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ultimateluckystudent-writes · 3 years

Note

hello! if this isn’t too weird, i’d like to request nagito and his fem s/o being heard having...seggs...... (maybe? possibly? perhaps? you can include the seggs scene?? if it’s not too much..) and the next morning their classmates are literally like 🧍‍♂️🧍🏻‍♀️ and it’s so awkward 😭😭 I CAN JUST IMAGINE HIYOKO AND MAHIRU LIKE 😀🤬 and everyone else like 😅😐please don’t feel obligated to do it but if you do then thank you so much!!! have a great day/night

Nagito and S/O being overheard

Anon, you're a genius. Absolutely, this is my favorite request I've gotten so far I had to do this first (even... if I'm... really late) It kind of spiraled into a little fic with smut and fluff but eh, the more the merrier right?

-Mod Usami

Word Count: 1.9k

Content Warnings: Island Mode AU! Some smut at the beginning, the rest is pretty fluffy. If you don't wanna read it, skip to where you see *****

“Fuck! Oh, fuck, yes!” Nagito’s hips hit yours with a fervor that was unfamiliar but completely welcome. His long, bony fingers held your waist tightly to hold himself steady as he fucked you while you lay on your back. Above you, he had a look of complete focus as he worked to keep up his pace. Usually he was quite gentle with you, making you take the reins if you wanted something rougher, but tonight he touched you with a drive you couldn’t place.

It had been much the same earlier, when he brought you off the first time eating you out; however, you had grown accustomed to Nagito’s eagerness when his face was between your legs. You’d been much too distracted by that very tongue laving your clit to notice any difference. When his hips slotted between yours though, the difference was so clear.

One of Nagito’s hands moved from its place on your torso to the back of your thigh, pushing it back towards you gently. His eyes remained locked on yours, and though his pace didn’t relent, his eyes were soft and questioning. When you could moaned in response, he couldn’t help but grin to himself a bit. The new angle allowed him to go even deeper,

“My hope...” He choked out, obviously attempting to remain steady even while he was so pleased. “I- you- you sound beautiful already and- and I know this is a selfish request-”

“Wh- What do you want, Nah- ah! Nagito!” You’d meant to continue on, but it was rather difficult. Your fingers dug into the sheets. Nagito moaned aloud at his name, his brows furrowing.

“Yes! My- my name! Just like that!”

“Of course, my pretty boy.” You managed to give him a sloppy half-smile. You let your head fall back once more as he continued. “Nagito! Oh, ah, Nagito! Fuck, baby you’re- you’re so good!” Your hand began to reach down to your clit, but his voice interrupted you.

“P- please, allow me-” He adjusted himself so he was pressed further down into you, one arm supporting himself on the bed and the other beginning to rub circles around your clit, one of your legs over his shoulder. All at once you were enveloped in how good he was making you feel, and knew you weren’t going to last long.

“Oh, Nagito, Nagito, Nagito!” Your voice was almost a whisper, chanting his name like a prayer. The leg not already against him came to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper. “I’m- I’m close-”

“Yes!” He moaned. “Please, please cum for me- I want to see you, I wanna see you-”

“Nagito!” A particularly electric motion from his hands caused your own to fly into his hair. “Nagito, Nagito- ah!” Your legs shook as you came, left trembling in his hands, and he didn’t last much longer. As he came, he leaned down as much as he could while still pumping into you to kiss and bite down on your neck. He peppered kisses all over you as you both lie in the aftershocks, panting in between nips and kisses. At last, he sucked hard on a spot by your pulse point, making you shiver while he marked you. “Nagito...” You whined. “You’re gonna leave marks...”

“Forgive me, my love, I selfishly crave nothing more than to see you completely marked up by my hand.” He murmured, his voice breathy and sleepy. You giggled, a bit out of it yourself.

“You talk funny.” You nudged him to move and he finally stood back up and wiped the sweat off of his brow. After cleaning up a bit and hitting the light, the two of you crawled back into bed to finally get some rest. You held his head close to your chest and played with his hair, and you were quickly asleep. Nagito needed to try a bit harder to fall asleep. He was facing the window he’d noticed he’d left open earlier, and tried not to laugh too much and make you stir.

*****

“Good morning everyone! It’s another beautiful day on the island! Please eat breakfast and do your very best today! Love, love!” Usami's voice crackled through the tv in your room. You internally groaned, upset that you could never find a way to turn that damn monitor down, until the events of last night came back to you. You smiled to yourself as you pulled Nagito closer, right while he was in the middle of a yawn.

“Morning breath.” You grumbled, moving to kiss him on the cheek.

“Nobody made you kiss me in the middle of my yawn. Least of all me.” He protested, but he sounded pleased. “Good morning.” You simply grumbled in response, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. “We’re expected at breakfast eventually.”

“So what?” You grinned deviously and peeked open your eyes just enough to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to his neck. He made a little squeaking noise and tilted his head to give you more access.

“Ah- as much as I- oh- enjoy your intimacy...” He swallowed hard, as if he was preparing himself for what he was going to say next. You didn’t relent. “We really shouldn’t do this every time we wake up together- we end up la- hah- hmm.” His voice died down into a hum as you began to suck on his neck. “Didn’t you complain about marks just last night?” His voice was strained. His hands found your sides and held on tight, despite his hesitant words.

“Yeah, but they’re probably already there, so it doesn’t matter now, does it?” You said in between your kisses. You pulled away just for a second to see that you were in fact leaving red marks something deep within you hoped would bloom into something darker. My precious boy… maybe they’ll all stop being so rude to you if they understand you’re mine.

“Well, there wouldn’t have been anything to connect it to me.” He said seriously. A laugh bubbled up out of you. “What?”

“Nothing.” You lied. Nothing would connect it to you except all the time we spend together, the way you cling to me when other people are around, those puppy-dog eyes you give me in front of everybody whenever we’re sent to collect in different areas… “But your logic is flawed.” You argued, moving to straddle his hips. He looked awestruck under you, something that made you falter for a moment. “Everyone else would know it wasn’t them, and that would likely narrow it down because...”

“Because?”

“You’re not the best liar when asked something directly, Ko-chan.” You giggled, tapping him on the nose. His eyes crossed trying to follow it.

“You’re probably right.” He beamed. You rolled your eyes. He seemed like he was in too good of a mood now to disagree with anyone. You leaned down to kiss his forehead and your feet finally found their way onto the floor. You felt much more energized now. You and Nagito began to get ready for the day. Nagito had begun to keep clothes in your cabin at your insistence and desire to have as much time with him in bed in the mornings. Still, between your conversations and extra kisses you both snuck, you found yourself late to breakfast.

“You don’t want to walk in separately?” He asked. “It might be rather… suspicious if we walked in at the same time. Especially with… these.” He gestured at your necks, which were marked up in matching fashion, though yours were a bit darker due to time. Despite his words, you’d seen the way Nagito smiled when he caught sight of himself in the mirror earlier, something you hadn’t seen him do… ever.

“I don’t mind, really, Nagito.” You took his hand and kissed his knuckles, making him blush once more. His face was already almost permanently red around you. “Besides, it’s not like anyone actually cares if we’re fucking… they probably won’t think at all about ”

“Ah...” Nagito pursed his lips as you finished climbing the stairs to the hotel’s restaurant. “About that...” His words fell on deaf ears however, as you pushed open the doors. All your classmates were already there, and though you expected to be able to slip in without much notice, all conversation paused as the two of you walked in. Everybody’s eyes turned to you at once.

“Good mo-or-orning lovebirds!” Ibuki sang, waving her utensils and accidentally splattering some of her food onto Byakuya. You froze completely, your eyes widening.

“Good morning, Mioda-san.” Nagito said from behind you. You turned to him, but he seemed most unfazed. There was still a light blush on his cheeks, but you couldn’t tell if that was from earlier or now.

“Mioda-chan!” Mahiru said crossly. “We agreed I would talk to them about it first!”

“Oh, fuck.” You covered your face with your hands. “Oh my fucking God. They all already knew.”

“Well… if it helps, we- we didn’t know until last night.” Mikan laughed nervously, before her own eyes widened. “Oh no! That probably doesn’t help! I’m so sorry, Koizumi-san!”

“Last night? What- oh no.” You could feel your face begin to burn. “Did.. did you...”

“A lot of us… heard you last night, yes.” Chiaki nodded. “Though I believe it was mostly the girls, as it came from the girls’ side of the dorms.”

“Komaeda, my man, I never thought I’d say this but like… how’d you do it?” Kazuichi asked.

“Now is not the time Soda-san!” Sonia chided. “(L/N)-san, did he at least pay you first?”

“I’m gonna do it.” You whispered to yourself. “I’m gonna walk into the ocean and never come back-”

“It’s somehow not that sort of deal. I keep trying but-” Nagito shrugged. You turned and glared at him furiously. “I sense I’ve made a mistake of some sort.”

“She doesn’t make him pay!” Hiyoko smirked, and just from the look you knew you wouldn’t like where this was going. “We all heard last night how much of a cum dump you are!” Several people gasped. Your face froze in what must have looked like a delirious grin. Your mind wouldn’t even register the words she was saying.

“I wish I could have heard.” Teruteru whined. “I’m sure the lady sounded… orgasmic in more than one sense of the word.”

“Haha!” Nagito said the words instead of actually laughing as he stepped out in front of you. He was smiling, but his eyes were cold. “I believe, besides last night, those sounds are usually reserved for me.”

“Whatever, weird choice aside, if she’s getting it from who she wants it’s cool!” Akane said around a mouthful of egg. “As long as she keeps it down! I almost didn’t make it to my early morning run today!”

“Thank you for getting us back to the point, Owari.” Byakuya sighed. “I hate this conversation with a newfound passion. Keep it down, please. Make sure your windows are closed.”

“What? But my windows are almost always closed!” You protested, thankful for the further change. “We’ve got AC, why would I-”

“It doesn’t matter!” Fuyuhiko groaned, shoving his chair away from the table. “And now I’ve completely lost my appetite. Can we go, Pekoyama?” She gave a curt nod, and they left to clear their plates.

“That’s cool! I’m gonna throw myself off one of the bridges today anyways!” You waved at them all. “Toodaloo!” With that, you began to walk away.

“She’s joking… I think.” You heard Nagito say behind you.

“I’m not!”

“...I’ll go with her. Ah, we’ll see you all at morning delegations- hey, wait up!”

#nagito komaeda #nagito x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #danganronpa #dr2 #bunnywrites #request

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matrixaffiliate · 3 years

Text

Convene

New Story! FFN and AO3

It's been six months of stress and odd hours for one Harry Potter, which has meant any quality time with Ginny is nearly nonexistent. But closing the case and a bit of fast planning means that he can arrange for nothing but quality time with his wife.

A little steamy story for the wonderful @fairqueen2 as part of the @harryandginuary Harry and Ginuary Gift Exchange! I hope you enjoy!

Convene

Harry handed Ron the file and holstered his wand. "We're so on vacation it's not even funny. Only call if the world is about to end. I need this break."

And he did. The last six months had been chaotic, taking down a serial killer. Add to it Gin's first season as a starter and it was amazing the Potters had managed to get more than an hour together without being passed out cold on their bed, and their bed was being underutilized in the saddest way. If they managed anything, life and reality barged in before the afterglow had even begun.

"Have you told Ginny yet?" Ron took the file and tucked it in his desk drawer.

"She still doesn't know, but I'm going to pick her up right now." Harry chuckled. "You wouldn't believe how much weight I had to throw to convince Gwenog that she didn't need Gin for the first week of the off-season training.

Ron snorted, "You're full of it."

Harry chuckled, "Just don't ask questions when the Harpies' training room gets some new equipment."

Ron laughed loudly and waved Harry off as moved for the Apparition point.

Harry popped to the Harpies' office and nodded to the receptionist as he strode the familiar path towards the locker room, choosing a bit of wall to rest against as he waited for Ginny to walk out the door and hoping she wouldn't be too disappointed at not getting to go out with the team to celebrate the end of the season.

He chuckled as some of the players walked out and cat-called. He and Gin had something of a reputation among the team, and while he still felt some of the uneasiness of embarrassment, he mostly enjoyed their good-natured teasing. Then he smirked as Gin walked out and they only fueled the flames by her moving swiftly into his arms.

"Hey stranger," she pressed a light kiss to his lips and Harry followed her retreating mouth.

"I'm kidnapping you," he murmured against her before kissing her more seriously, sliding his tongue along her bottom lip before nipping her with his teeth.

"You have time for kidnapping?" She ran her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and pressed her curves against him.

Harry slid a hand under her shirt and up her back as he moved to kiss along her jawline. "Ron and I closed the case yesterday. I have a Portkey and packed bags at home ready to send us to that private island Fleur went on and on about last Christmas."

Ginny pulled back with wide eyes, "If you're kidding I'm going bat bogey hex you into next year."

Harry shook his head, "I told Ron not to let anyone contact us unless the world is ending and I've already cleared this with Gwenog. It's you and me and no one else for the next week on a private island resort."

Ginny's smile blossomed on her face before she pressed forward, kissing him in a fervor, her hands pushing under his shirt, her breath coming in quick gasps as she seemed intent on devouring him in the corridor. And Harry met her fervor with his own. It felt like ages since he'd held her like this, felt her fire, the way she made his blood burn and his mind push out the world.

"Get her out of here, Potter." Gwenog's voice sounded nearby.

Harry reluctantly pulled away and rested his forehead against Gin's.

"You heard the boss," Ginny grinned.

Harry pushed them off of the wall behind him and took her hand. "Let's go, the sooner we get home the sooner I can activate our Portkey."

"Don't forget your promise, Potter," Gwenog called as they moved to the Apparition point.

"What promise?" Ginny quirked an eyebrow at him.

Harry pushed his free hand in his hair. "I'll tell you later."

Ginny went to protest, but Harry turned and took them home.

"Portkey is right here," he led her to the water bottle standing next to the two suitcases near the fireplace.

"So you're not going to tell me?" Ginny laughed and took hold of her suitcase handle and held out her hand.

"We're just helping make up the difference for some new equipment for the team." Harry tried to sound confident, and Ginny laughed.

"I wondered how you'd convinced Gwenog to let me go for a week."

"She's ridiculous, you know," Harry shook his head. "She seemed to think I was being a baby about having not seen you properly in months."

"I mean, you did just plan a spur-of-the-moment vacation in one day." Ginny grabbed his hand as he picked up the water bottle.

Harry looked down at her with a quirked brow. "You didn't seem to mind when I told you."

"I never said I wasn't appreciative," Ginny pressed up and kissed his cheek. "So let's do this."

Harry kissed her lips, savoring the taste of her, then activated the Portkey.

They landed in the middle of a bungalow and Harry felt the breeze of the salt air blow the weight off of his shoulders.

Ginny hummed and moved to the bed at the far end of the bungalow. "You're a genius, you know?"

She sprawled out on the bed, kicking her shoes off and onto the floor. Harry shrugged out of his Auror robes and removed his shoes as he followed his wife. "Genius, eh?"

"Yes," she sighed and closed her eyes. "This is exactly what I needed."

Harry moved his fingers along the hem of her shirt. "Just this? Nothing more?"

It was the slightest change of her expression, one he'd learned to recognize after years together. It was the slightest uptick of the left side of her mouth combined with her shifting her face to look at him. It was all the sign he needed that they were of the same mind.

"Was there something you had in mind?" Her voice was almost bored, but her eyes sparkled up at him.

Harry shifted to align his body along hers and then slipped his hand under her shirt, tracing his fingers along her stomach. "Nothing specific, but in a general sense yes."

Ginny's eyes fluttered closed. "Does your general sense include more of this?"

Harry chuckled, "Yes, and a few other things as well." He moved his hand high enough to tease her before sliding his hand back down to her navel.

It was the slightest arch of her back, a barely-there upward tilt of her hips, combined with Ginny's hum of approval had Harry letting out a long slow breath.

Ginny blinked open her eyes again and smirked at him. "Are you going to make it at this pace?"

"I might speed things up at some point, but right now I like this pace."

Ginny reached her hand up and cupped the back of his neck, pulling him down for a kiss that was far from the teasing pace he'd originally set.

"We can speed up," she murmured against him, "We have all week for slow."

Harry moved to kiss along her jaw and her neck.

"Are you sure?" He murmured behind her ear and smirked as she arched into him.

"Damnit, Harry, take a hint!"

Ginny pulled his mouth back to hers and kissed him, plunging her tongue into his mouth before sliding the tip around his lips. Then her hands were shoving his shirt up his torso and Harry pulled away to pull it over his head. The fervor that they'd felt in the corridor returning tenfold as clothes fell away and finally they were reunited without the urgency of the past few months, without the exhaustion, without the stress, without the heaviness of knowing that reality would be waiting for them the moment they opened their eyes.

Harry kissed up Ginny's neck as he shifted his weight off of her.

"I love you," he murmured in her ear before pulling away to see the dreamy smile that he only saw in these moments. The smile that was all for him, because of him.

"I love you too," she pulled him down and kissed him, slowly, caressing.

"We should probably send for dinner," Harry spoke against her.

Ginny hummed and continued kissing him. "And I want to swim in the ocean."

Harry smirked against her, "I think I'd like to swim with you in the ocean."

"And lay on the beach?" Ginny asked as her hands slid up and down his arms and chest.

"I think I'd rather enjoy that as well." Harry shifted to lie against her, tracing her hip bone with his fingers. "As long as we work in time for some slower fun of this sort."

Ginny grinned up at him, "I was suggesting that slow would be involved in the swimming and the sunbathing."

"And you called me a genius," Harry chuckled before slanting his lips over hers again.

"Where do you think you learnt it from?" Ginny nipped at his lip. "Now go get me food."

Harry slid his hands around to hold her against his chest for a moment, breathing her in and savoring the fact that this was their next week, the two of them, together with no other cares as she tucked her head into the crook of his shoulder.

"Alright," Harry kissed the top of her head. "Dinner."

"And then more of this," Ginny shifted against him and sighed into his chest.

Harry chuckled and reluctantly untangled himself from her. "Keep that up and I'm going to completely forget about the food."

"Fine," Ginny gave him a push. "Go find me food, and don't forget the pudding."

"I'm not enough of a pudding for you?" He teased as he pulled a pair of joggers from his suitcase.

Ginny laughed sprawled out luxuriously against the pillows, her hair splayed in every direction, her body completely relaxed in a way Harry had missed over the last few months.

"Why don't you see if there's a pudding that would work with those slow plans you had?"

Harry paused mid pulling up the leg of his joggers and looked up to stare at his very alluring wife. "You really are the genius."

"Don't forget it, Potter." She blew him a kiss. "Now hurry, I'm hungry."

Harry moved to the bed to kiss her instead, sliding his hands across her chest and into her hair. "I might have to have pudding first then."

"We're on vacation, I think it's a rule to have pudding first." Ginny slid her hand along the waistband of his joggers. "Now go get me food, Potter." She gripped his bum before pushing him away.

Harry groaned but moved for the door to call for the house-elf assigned to their bungalow. With any luck, Ginny would want pudding first with every meal they had on this vacation.

#harry and ginuary #harry and ginuary gift exchange #hinny #hinny fluff #steamy fluff #romance #harry x ginny #harry potter x ginny weasley #harry potter fanfiction

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iknowthekoolaidflavor · 4 years

Text

The Hoskins: The Family Reunion

You invite Collin to your family reunion.

Set before getting married and having Junie.

Warning: annoying aunts and smut (fingering, dry humping)

A/N: Whenever I write for the Hoskins, I always say “It’s going to be a drabble”, then I proceed to do the complete opposite lol. Enjoy!

As nervous as you were about the family reunion, you were having a great time. You loved your family, but they were nosey beyond compare. Back home, the entire block knew that at if someone knew their business, it was because of your family’s love of gossip. Very embarrassing, to say the least.

When Collin overheard you asking your mother about the reunion, you could see the excitement spreading across his face. He always stressed the importance of family. You saw it in the way he treated his mother, stepfather, and stepbrother. Collin wanted a family of his own and you knew that in due time, it was something you could have together.

“Would you like to come with me?”, you asked after getting off the phone

“Yeah. It would be nice to get to know everyone”

Your relationship with Collin had been going strong for a year. In that time, you slowly introduced him to parts of your family. It started with your parents, then your siblings, aunts, and close cousins. The rest of the family you only saw at events like funerals and reunions would have to wait to meet him, and this seemed as great a time as any. It’s not that you didn’t want them to meet him. Collin is one of the most important men in your life, and you wanted them to see what you see in him, no matter how rude and judgemental they could be. Collin’s past was bound to come up, and the last thing you wanted was to throw hands at your great aunts for running their mouths.

The cookout went off without a hitch. It seemed everyone was as in love with Collin as you were. Your younger cousins fought over who he would play with next, he argued with your older cousins over west coast and east coast hip hop, and your mother somehow pulled him on to the makeshift dancefloor for a litany line dances. Your camera roll was full of Collin indulging and enjoying himself.

After telling your cousins he didn’t smoke, they challenged Collin to a game of basketball. You’ve never seen him play, but it was a joy to watch him run around sweaty and shirtless.

“How long have you two been together”, Aunt Mae, your great aunt, asked

“A year and a half”, you responded after finally tearing your gaze away

The image was seared into your memory.

“And were just now finding out about him?”

“Maybe she didn’t want us to know”, Aunt Vivian stepped in, appearing to take your side

Aunt Mae was blunt and a little cut throat. She always got straight to the point and didn’t care who she offended. Aunt Vivian was hit or miss. One minute, she’s singing your praises, the next she behaves like her older sister. The constant flip flopping exhausted you. As much as you love your family, this was the main reason you avoided spending extended periods of time with them. Someone had to take your mental health into consideration, and it was never them.

“Here we go”, you mumbled

“She didn’t want us knowing she’s dating someone with a criminal background”, Aunt Viv finished

“That’s because Collin is more than his background. Yes, it happened, but he moved on. The minute y’all found out about it, that’s all you saw, then you’ll do what you always do: talk behind his back and treat him different, when everyone knows that’s not what he deserves”, you grimaced, trying to simmer your distaste for the conversation

Listening to your Aunts go on about your relationship with your boyfriend made your blood boil. It was clear they didn’t know Collin, nor did they want to get to know him.

“What makes you think he’d make a good father or a husband?”, Aunt Mae countered

“You don’t know him like I do”, you snapped, “Despite how the world sees him, Collin still keeps his head up and continues to do what’s best for him. He’s intelligent, kind, honest, he always puts people before him. Sometimes to the point he has to be reminded he needs to take care of himself too. He wants to be a better person, and he’s proven that time and time again--”

“I’m not sure he deserves a second chance”, Aunt Mae stated

“Do you really want to go there with me?”, you took her silence as your queue, “Last year, you snatched Aunt Viv’s wig off her head because she said your potato salad was trash and yet you still got your second chance”

You continued to list all the heinous crimes your aunt committed against various family members and noted that everyone has given her second and even third chances against their better judgement. By the time you were done, Aunt Mae looked like she was ready to burst into flames.

“Dessert is out”, you heard a soft voice from behind

Collin wrapped his arms around you, kissing your cheek and making his presence known.

“I got you a slice of sweet potato pie before anyone else could get to it. Lets eat it by the lake”, Collin suggested

“As much as I want to say seeing you two has been fun, we all know it would be a lie. Next time, keep your judgement to yourselves”

You gingerly got up from the table, glaring at your aunts. Collin held your hand as he led the way with your hand in his and the pie in the other. He found a secluded spot under a tree for you to relax.

“How much did you hear?”, you asked as you sat down

“Mae really snatched her own sister’s wig? Over potato salad?”, Collin laughed

“Yes”, you sighed

“Mae had no reason to be upset. Her potato salad is trash. Someone needed to say it”

Collin smiled when he finally heard you laugh.

“Were you really upset over what they said about me?”

“Of course I am. They have no right to be that--”

“I don’t give a damn what your aunts or the rest of your family think about me and neither should you”, Collin retorted, “They’ll come around and if they don’t, that’s on them”

It grew quiet between the two of you.

“Besides, the only person whose opinion on me I care about is yours. As far as I’m concerned, it’s the only one that matters”

Collin pulled his arms around you as you finished your slice of pie. Hearing your aunts talk about him like that struck a nerve, but he knew he would be alright.

As the evening ended, you and Collin went back to your cousin’s house with her husband and their three-year-old. Shelby spent most of the evening in Collin’s lap telling him about her friends at daycare until she finally fell asleep.

Around ten, Collin was glad to finally fall into bed with you. The day was long, but you two still enjoyed yourselves.

“I’m glad you came with me this year”

“I hope I’ll be here years from now”, he mused

“Seriously, if it weren’t for you, I would have knocked Aunt Mae out, then pushed her in the lake”

“No, you wouldn’t”

Collin stared at you, taking in your sheer determination. Deep down, there was a part of you that would do it with no hesitation. Collin leaned in to kiss you goodnight. After sharing multiple ‘I love yous’, he kissed you again, but he didn’t expect the kiss to become as intense as it did.

His hand trailed down your body while your head rested in the crook of his other arm. Collin kissed you with fervor as his hand reached for the hem of your underwear. You softly sighed against him when his deft fingers found your clit, rubbing quick circles against you. Collin gently bit down on your bottom lip, making you moan.

“Do you want them to hear you”, Collin smirked

“Not my fault”, you countered, “Feels good”

He gently sucked your bottom lip as he pulled you in for another kiss. You loved nights like these when Collin found himself not being able to get enough of you. Moments later he found your soaked entrance with two fingers and they sank in effortlessly. You tried to keep your gasps quiet, but at this point they would just have to hear you.

Collin pressed his cock against you, rubbing it against your thigh. He pulled away to catch his breath as he curled his fingers to hit your g-spot. Your heels dug into the mattress as you let out a breathless moan. Collin kissed up and down your neck as his thrusts became rougher.

You could hear him cursing under his breath as the sounds of his fingers slipping into your wetness filled the room. Collin pulled you into another kiss as he pressed down harder on your g-spot. You shook as he brought you to an orgasm as he trembled beside you. Collin’s orgasm rippled through him as he tried to catch his breath.

He took his fingers out of you and slipped them into your mouth, waiting for you to suck them clean. You grinned as you slipped your hands past his boxers, ready to return the favor. To your surprise, your fingers were already covered in cum. Collin sheepishly grinned.

“I’m glad we didn’t fuck tonight”, he mused, “Might have ended up with a baby of our own”

The next morning, you sat with Collin at the table with Shelby. Your cousin and her husband had a few errands to run. As Collin fixed his plate, he kept dropping the tongs on the table. He was as gentle as he was clumsy.

“If your sausage fingers weren’t so big--”, you started

“You weren’t complaining about my sausage fingers last night”

Collin leaned over and mimicked your moans in your ear, “Feels good”

Your cheeks felt like they were set ablaze as Collin’s salacious grin spread across his face. Collin bit his lip, taking in your shock as a minor victory. Maybe he should have put a baby in you.

“Wait”, Shelby gasped, “There’s more sausage?”

“No, your cousin ate all”

Collin smirked at Shelby’s distaste for you eating her favorite food.

“And I’ll be eating more of it tonight”, you whispered as he choked on his juice

#collin needs more love #the hoskins #collin x reader #collin hoskins x reader #collin hoskins #blindspotting drabble #this was supposed to be a drabble #blindspotting

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caranfindel · 4 years

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Initial reaction 15.14: Last Holiday

Well, friends, here we go. Are you ready?

(I'm not. But here we go anyway.)

THEN: Cuthbert Sinclair. (Really? That's a deep cut.) Abbadon. Larry Ganem. (And S8 Sam, who is fucking gorgeous.) Oh, and God and Jack and all that stuff, in case you forgot.

NOW: Sam's in the library, doing research, and is distracted by some ominous noises. Ominous in a machinery-breaking-down kind of way, not in a monstery kind of way. Enter Dean, wearing an apron. "What's with the apron," asks Sam, "because it's only protecting your jeans, not the Red Shirt of Bad Decisions." At least that's how it sounded in my head. I mean, who only gets dirty from the waist down when they're cooking? (Well, that lends itself to all kinds of double entendres, doesn't it?) Or maybe Sam doesn't say that because he hopes the RSoBD will be destroyed in a tragic burger accident.

Seriously, Dean, that shirt is precious and you need to protect it, no matter what Sam thinks.

Dean complains that the pilot light keeps going out, and the hot water is unsatisfactory (and we know how he feels about his showers), and Sam reminds him that if the bunker was ever state-of-the-art, it was in the 50s. They exposition for us that Jack is hiding in his room. "Can you blame him?" Sam says. "His soul is back. Everything is hitting him. Everything he's done..." And Sam continues, but I'm sorry, I'm stuck here, thinking about re-souled Sam with everything hitting him. {sob} However, neither of the Winchesters seem to be thinking about this, so. Carry on.

The guys remind us that if Jack kills God, he'll have to kill Amara as well. Which I assume means Amara isn't going to get killed? Just saying. As much as I talk about foreshadowing (too much, please stop!) this show teases us with anti-foreshadowing with equal fervor. And Cas is apparently looking for Amara? What does he hope to accomplish? "Excuse me, but we're killing your brother, so you have to die too. Condolences. But if we follow canon - not that there's any reason to assume we will - you have to die at about the same time. So I need you to come with me while we figure out where he is and how to kill him."

There's another ominous noise, and Dean says "Oh, come on. Now the air?" I hope he means the air conditioning, and not the air purifying/exchange/whatever that Ketch shut off when he locked them in the bunker back in... whatever the BMoL season was. Hey, remember when the guys were locked in the bunker and they were running out of air and they wore single layers and goggles and got all sweaty and depressed? Because I've kind of never gotten over it. But I digress.

Sam is surprised that Dean expects them to fix it. "We've fought the devil," Dean says. "I've killed Hitler. I think we can handle a few old pipes." Surely this isn't the first time they've had to do some repairs around the place.

Deep within the bowels of the bunker, Sam reads some ancient instructions and complains that they can't just call a plumber. Dean refers to the bunker as the most "secretive, secure supernatural hideout in the world," which makes me laugh, because remember when Larry Ganem told Sam it was secure against all manner of evil? What a joke. Is there anything or anyone evil who hasn't been able to get into the bunker? My house is more secure against evil than the bunker, and all I have for protection is a circle of termite bait and a couple of ancient dogs.

They locate the "bunker grid control center thing thingy" (oh Sam, I adore you), complete with reset and standby buttons. Standby is glowing. Dean hypothesizes that it will work just like his computer, which needs to be shut down when it gets too many popups (I suspect you need some virus protection, dear boy), and slams down the reset button before Sam can stop him. Everything goes dark, but then starts up again, so Dean considers it a success. He calls himself "Meat Man" again and heads upstairs to finish cooking his burgers.

Time jump. Dean goes into his room, carrying a burger and a beer, and is astonished to find a middle-aged woman there. She's wearing a plaid wool skirt I owned in the 80s and is folding his underwear. "Oh, hello dear!" she says cheerfully. Dean yells for Sam.

Gosh, Dean, it's like this place isn't secretive or secure at all.

The horrified Shaggy and Scooby boxers are ~chef's kiss.~ Well done, someone.

Title card!

Library. The woman tuts at dust and wonders how they've lived in "this filth," which reminds me of an awesome Tumblr post which theorizes that faeries actually keep the bunker clean, and only first-born son Dean can see them. "Lady, who the hell are you," Dean demands, and is chastized for his language. He calls for Sam again, and gives him the story of how he walked into his room and found her "folding my underthings."

She explains that her actual name is indecipherable in "your tongue," but "Mr. Ganem called me _Mrs. Butters."_She's a wood nymph. And she's not in the woods, nymphing (thank you Dean) because she has more important things to do - she lives in the bunker and takes care of the Men of Letters. I.e., "my boys. My family."

Dean invites her to leave, but this is her home, and she's been here since "before the war." And she thinks it's 1958. "Well, I hate to tell you," Dean says, "but it's 2020." YES, DEAN, WE ALL FEEL THAT WAY ABOUT 2020. Mrs. Butters is horrified to learn all her boys are dead. And for some reason Dean tells her they were murdered by a demon instead of saying old age, or they went to a farm upstate, or whatever. She spots a photo of the last group of MoL, which we've never noticed before, and realizes that this is why they never came back from that last ceremony. When they didn't return, she decided to put the bunker - and herself - in standby mode.

But she also realizes that if these boys are like those boys, it's been a while since they had a home-cooked meal or celebrated a holiday. Or washed their clothes, as she makes a face. That's uncalled for, lady. We all know that Sam Winchester smells like rosemary and mint no matter how long it's been since he did laundry. Sam explains that they're not really "holiday people," which rings true coming from the guy who didn't want to celebrate Christmas and hates Halloween. (And only had one real Thanksgiving in his life and his brother still holds that against him but NO I'M NOT BITTER.)

Dean is more interested in what "standby mode" is. Mrs. Butters says the MoL used her magic to give the bunker "extra oomph," and snaps her fingers. Voila, extra oomph! There's some humming noises, the telescope alcove lights up (!), and an alarm sounds. Because the map table is actually a monster radar, and it indicates a nest of vampires 50 miles away. And gives the address. WELL.

{Sidebar: Why didn't the BMoL know the AMoL had this capability? Why was their focus on "you're not as good as us" instead of "you used to be as good as us; what happened?" Discuss.}

Do I care? No. Because look at these precious perplexed faces.

Dean's ready to go (and it earns him another stern warning about his language), but Sam wonders if they can trust her. "Look at her," Dean says. And I agree. She's a dumpy middle aged woman in a brown plaid wool skirt. She's basically me. And who could be more trustworthy, more concerned with the Winchesters' health and safety, than me?

Um. Anyway.

Not to change the subject or anything, but the pretty is strong tonight, y'all.

Dean suggests they give her the benefit of the doubt, and if it turns out she's not what she says she is, "then we deal with it." The music turns ominous. "What about Jack?" Sam asks.

Oh, Jack is actually in this episode? I thought maybe they were explaining his absence earlier, like they always do with Cas. (Because I always cover the guest star credits on first watch. Spoilers.) But it turns out Jack is actually with us tonight. Sitting on his bed, looking depressed. Dean knocks on his door and tells him they're going out, and there's a "probably harmless" guest making snickerdoodles. This sparks Jack's interest. It would work on me, too. I love snickerdoodles.

Impala. Sam's not sure it's a good idea to keep Mrs. Butters around, even if she is legit. He's concerned about Jack, but Dean brushes him off.

He'll be fine. I mean, I've been through worse and look at me. I'm the picture of health.

Ignoring your trauma doesn't make you healthy.

Sure it does.

Oh, Sam. Just listen to yourself. No, I mean, please. Listen to yourself.

Sam feels like Jack is hiding something, and I wish there were someone around who had also done awful things while un-souled, and remembered what it felt like to deal with that afterward. Someone sympathetic and empathetic. With soft puppy dog eyes and beautiful hair. Oh well. I guess Jack will just have to go unburden himself onto whoever he comes across.

Bunker. Mrs. Butters brings Jack a sandwich. He doesn't open the door, but she leaves it for him.

Vampire nest. A couple of vampires are watching Dark Shadows (so meta!) and drinking blood stolen from a blood bank. So, are these, like, maybe not bad vampires? Maybe they don't kill people? We'll never know, because Sam and Dean walk in and cut off their heads. And come home to... Christmas. Lights are strung all over, jazzy Christmas music is playing, there's a huge decorated tree and gifts, and Mrs. Butters has a tray of homemade cookies. "We are so keeping her," Dean says. Sam looks unsure.

Kitchen. Mrs. Butters tells Sam that since he and Dean have been so busy killing monsters, they haven't had a chance to celebrate anything. But I can barely pay attention to a single word that comes out of the woman's mouth because LOOK AT SAM IN THIS T-SHIRT. LOOK AT IT.

Single-layer Sam is something to celebrate.

She insists that Sam "enjoy the world you're fighting for" (which is never gonna happen, lady) and excitedly talks about all the holidays she wants to make up for. Then Jack enters, and her mood changes instantly. Even Jack's adorable little dorky wave doesn't melt her. "What are you?" she asks coldly.

Enter Dean, wearing a real-life version of the purple "sleeping robe" and nightcap he wore in "Scoobynatural." OH MY GAWD. I really hope this was a surprise for the rest of the cast.

And I also hope he's not really going commando underneath... or do I?

Mrs. Butters is distracted enough to decide that if the boys vouch for Jack, he must be okay. She hands Jack a smoothie but tells Dean he must have tomato juice due to his cholesterol. And she pronounces it the Patrick Stewart way, not the Mark Hammil way.

Before Dean can drink his to-mah-toh juice, the monster radar alarm goes off, and the guys rush off to prepare for a hunt. For future reference, when you leave the kitchen, Sam's room is to the right and Dean's is to the left. We next see the guys fully dressed, receiving sack lunches from Mrs. Butters. Dean's sandwich has the crusts cut off. {Sidebar: Sam never had someone to cut the crusts off his sandwich. Hold me. And also, how many reminders am I going to have of "Dark Side of the Moon" tonight?} She tells Sam the monster is a lamia, the blessed knives are in the trunk, and she just waxed the car so Dean needs to take it easy.

As the guys rush off, she turns to Jack and his smoothie mustache. "Well. What shall we do with you?"

NOTHING GOOD, I'M SURE.

As Jack helps wash dishes, he fills her in. Lucifer was his father, Mary was his family and his friend but he killed her. Mrs. Butters is very supportive, telling him "life gives us second chances and it's our obligation to hold onto them." And she presents him with another smoothie.

Montage! Thanksgiving dinner. More hunts. More sack lunches. Halloween (and even Sam seems to enjoy it). Fourth of July. (Yet another "Dark Side of the Moon" shoutout). A hunt requiring the grenade launcher and Thor's hammer from that episode whose title I can't remember! Sam's birthday! By the way, none of these holiday celebrations include Cas.

Mmmm. So worthy.

Time jump. Jack catches Mrs. Butters looking at something in a file cabinet and being very sneaky about it. He requests another smoothie to get her out of the room, and then finds what she was looking at. It's her MoL file, including a reel of film. The film shows Cuthbert Sinclar talking about File 5150 (aw, RIP Eddie Van Halen). The subject was actually recovered from the Thule (aw, "Everybody Hates Hitler") and we learn that wood nymphs "react violently when home or family are threatened." Sinclair says he "conducted a series of experiments designed to show this strange and magical being of our mission" and convinced her to join the MoL family. Huh. Wonder how he did that. Then Mrs. Butters demonstrates her devotion by literally ripping the head off a Thule. "Son of a bitch," says Jack, because he's been spending a lot of time with Dean.

Jack runs into the war room looking for Sam (and yes, I'm petty enough to love that he looks to Sam first), who is off getting ready for a "big date." Huh. Okay. Mrs. Butters offers him soup, but then Sam walks in, giving off some pretty strong Hot Professor Sam vibes (hello again, "Everybody Hates Hitler") with a sweater vest and tie, and I am thrilled with this development.

Thrilled, I tell you.

Mrs. Butters tells him he looks wonderful but offers to trim his hair (back off, lady, I will cut you) and Dean enters in time to make a weak Abercrombie and Bitch joke. Sam tells him Eileen's in town, and he's taking her out to dinner and "some privacy, something."

"Heavy on the something," Dean says, and we're going to talk about that later, I promise. But for now, Mrs. Butters tells Sam to take one of the old cars from the garage. Finally. Can we just make this permanent? Can Sam have his own fucking car, please? She produces a bouquet of roses from nowhere and sends him on his adorably anxious way. Then she tells Dean she found a broken TV in one of the rooms and fixed it. "The Dean Cave?" Dean is off like a shot. I wonder if that's the TV he smashed with a hammer, and if so, how did she fix it? (Also, hello again, "Scoobynatural.")

Jack is still unsettled. He follows her into the dungeon and tells her he saw the film. {Sidebar: The film showed her killing one of their enemies because she's protective of the MoL. Is it really that awful? Discuss.} "And how did that make you feel?" she asks. "You relished his pain, didn't you, Jack?" Oh, turns out that was a setup - she wanted Jack to see the video, so she could confirm that he was a bloodthirsty little monster. And do the Winchesters know how powerful he has become?

They should be scared of you!

I would never hurt them.

You have before, haven't you? Have you ever thought that Sam and Dean keep you in here, closed in, secure, because they're scared you'll do to someone else what you did to their mother?

Well, I mean. Now he has. She flings Jack into the wall. He tries to use the glowy eyes on her, but he finds himself powerless. She snaps the magic handcuffs on him. "You didn't think those smoothies were for your health, did you? Oh, I've learned a few things while I was doing the dusting around here. A little yarrow root, some ground jawbone for texture, and voila! You are as weak as a puppy."

Wait. That's all it took? To power down a nephilim, who is canonically more powerful than his archangel parent? So when the Winchesters were trying to take down Lucifer and AU Michael, all they needed was some yarrow root and ground jawbone? And the answers were all right here in the bunker?

(Sigh. Don't think about it. That way lies madness.)

(Also, canon! Ha ha ha ha.)

She tells Jack she's making the bunker safe again and getting rid of all the monsters. Like you, sweetness. Aw. Sad Jack.

Kitchen. Dean comes in looking for a snack and is immediately presented with some kind of grilled sandwich. She tells him to eat it, because he'll need his strength when they go kill Jack. Aw, that's the sound of a heart breaking.

Dean is disappointed that their good thing has gone "full Nurse Ratchet," and glances longingly at the sandwich he has to leave behind. He takes Mrs. B's knife and suggests they let Jack go and pretend this never happened. The only logical conclusion is that Dean is under Jack's spell, so he gets tossed into the dungeon too. Oh, cool. Does that mean Sam gets to be the hero and save them?

Spoiler alert: Ha ha ha ha no.

Hello, Demon Dean. That's the only other time we've seen this expression, isn't it? {Or is it simply the only one branded onto my brain? Discuss.)

Map table room. Sam comes in and is met by Mrs. B. "Bit past your curfew, Samuel," she says curtly. He's no longer wearing his tie. Hmm. So, let's talk about the Eileen situation. Isn't it weird that (1) Dean didn't know she was in town, and (b) she's not spending the night at the bunker? Wouldn't you think she'd be a house guest? I mean, she's not "in town" for the heck of it. The only thing that would bring her to Lebanon would be Sam. So why isn't she here seeing Sam? Is she just driving through on her way somewhere else? She can't even spend one night in the bunker? And the tie? If Sam removed his tie, doesn't that strongly suggest Dean was right about the "something" going on? Did they do it in the back of the old car? At a hotel? I have questions, friends.

Anyway. Sam asks where Jack and Dean are, since it's late and they should be sitting around the map table waiting for him to come home and not, like, in bed or anything. "Well, I have some good news, and some bad news."

HERE IS SOME GOOD NEWS INDEED.

Honestly, I like this look better without the tie.

Time jump.

So, Jack has taken over Dean's mind. And they're both downstairs, right now, ready to be killed by us.

You were always the smart one, yes.

Sam, who is the smart one, says he's going to go to his room and get his gun, and he'll meet her in the dungeon. "And we can... get to the killing." I LOVE HIM. {Sidebar: I have watched his fake relieved sigh several times and it makes me smile every time.} Once he’s safe in his room, Sam calls Dean and starts to tell him about Mrs. Butters.

Went psycho, we know.

Why didn't you call me?

Well, I mean I, you know, I figured you were "practicing your sign language."

And that's more important than coming to save you?

...

Dean?

It's been a while for you, man, you know?

Aw. Always the supportive big brother. {Sidebar: As long as Sam is doing something Dean thinks Sam should be doing. But I digress.}

{Sidebar: I love Dean, y'all know I do. Warts and all. He'd be boring if he were perfect.}

Dean suggests Sam shoot her, although they don't know if a gun will kill her because neither of them got around to researching it because they were distracted by Christmas and Thanksgiving and breakfast on Boxing Day. That's how you get killed, guys. {Sidebar: How much do I love that Sam calls it Boxing Day? For my Brit friends, that's not really a thing in the U.S., although it's gradually starting to become one. And I love it.}

Dean then suggests that putting the bunker in standby mode might put Mrs. B in suspended animation again. Meanwhile, Jack and Dean are stuck in the dungeon. Jack suggests using his power to remove the cuffs, but Dean points out that the power surge would catch Chuck's attention. But what power surge? Jack already tried to use his power against Mrs. B and it turned out he didn't have any.

Jack suspects there are other reasons Dean doesn't want him to use his power, and suddenly decides it's time for a deep conversation.

Do you still think I'm a monster? Okay, I'm just gonna say this, okay? Just get it out there. Jack, I'm trying, okay? I really am. But what you did, that's not easy to forget. Now, I was angry with you. For a while. And maybe I still am a little bit, okay? But I'm not gonna let some evil Mary Poppins take you out. You understand?

Okay. Good talk.

Sam shows up in the library looking for Mrs. B, and trying to hide his gun, as if he hadn't told her he was going to his room specifically to retrieve said gun. But Mrs. B realizes he's trying to kill her, and freezes him. She's not mad, she's just disappointed. She tosses him into a chair and keeps him there with the power of her mind, not with rope or anything, in case you were wondering. {Oh, hello, "Funeralia" and "The Trap."} She tells him that when the MoL first found her, she didn't realize how important they were. But Mr. Cuthbert explained it to her. And since Sam is her favorite, she's not going to give up on him. Yet. She's going help Sam the same way Mr. Cuthbert helped her understand. Well, that doesn't sound ominous at all.

He's my favorite too! And I also think he needs to be hurt! See, she's basically me!

Dungeon. Dean is going to try to chop Jack's handcuffs off.

You're sure this is gonna work?

Let's say yes.

Aw. That was a perfect opportunity to bring back "maybe 90% sure." And it doesn't work - Jack is sent flying into a glassed-in cabinet that I've never seen in the dungeon before. Dean says "dang it" before remembering that he can use his big boy words, which is adorable. And then he gets an idea.

Upstairs. Mrs. B tries to convince Sam that Jack is a monster because he's Lucifer's son. Sam, of course, takes the opposite side of this debate. "Now, Mr. Cuthbert taught me that pain can be a wonderful teacher. Let's see if it can't correct your ways."

I SWEAR, Y'ALL, SHE IS ME.

Sam could sneer at her and say "I've been tortured by the devil himself; what can you do to me?" but we don't have that version of Sam any more. Mrs. B, without tools, yanks off one of his fingernails. {Oh, hello "A Very Supernatural Christmas!"}

Meanwhile, downstairs, Dean has a different theory on pain. It's just "weakness leaving the body," he tells Jack. We get a little "on three" bit, where he actually does the thing on one. And the thing is that he tries to cut Jack's handcuffs again, but this time Jack is strategically placed in front of the dungeon door. So when he's thrown back by the blast, he ends up breaking the door down.

Upstairs. Sam's been relieved of even more fingernails.

Downstairs. Dean takes a hammer (!) and smashes the reset button. Why doesn't he just push it with his hand? I mean, sure, we get the hammer, and the red lights and warning klaxon, and all of that turns me into Pavlov's dog {Hello, "Soul Survivor"}. But still. Seems unnecessary.

Upstairs. Mrs. B seems to be gone, and Dean bends over like he's untying Sam's wrist. But Sam's wrists aren't tied to anything, so. I got nothin'.

Downstairs. The runes that seem to hold Mrs. B in stasis light up, but do not stay lit. Well, that can't be good. And then the bunker grid control center thing thingy starts shaking and springs a leak. Ooops. Here she comes, complete with glowy green eyes.

Upstairs. Dean finishes untying Sam from the chair he wasn't tied to, and remarks on how gross his tortured hand is. Mrs. B shows up, yells that they've all been very bad, and flings them across the room. She's sure Sam will thank her someday for killing Jack, because it's so important to kill monsters and keep the MoL safe. It's why she couldn't go back to her forest. Sam explains to her that Mr. Cuthbert tortured her and used her, and Dean tells her Jack is going to save the world. Oh, okay then. The regular lights turn back on and Mrs. B tearfully says she misses the MoL so much.

Aftermath. Mrs. B heals Sam's hand and apologizes and all is immediately forgotten and once again, Sam gets to forgive his torturer and turn the other cheek. Yay! Sam, what was it you said earlier?

Gif stolen from @michaeldean

The guys send Mrs. B back to the woods, but first they have this conversation:

Sadly, without my magic, the bunker will revert to standby mode, so. Ah well, things were getting too easy anyway, you know? Who needs a monster radar? Or whatever that telescope thing is? It's an interdimensional geoscope. It's a what? I looked in it earlier; I didn't see anything. Oh. Well that's not good.

Holy crap, you guys. Interdimensional. It let the MoL look at the alternate worlds. And now you can't see anything because all of the alternate worlds have been destroyed. Gotta admit, this is an excellent little twist.

Jack presents Mrs. B with the photo of the MoL. "Oh look," she says. "The man who tortured me and kept me from my home, right here, front and center." Well, no, she doesn't. But I do.

Mrs. Butters gives them some last instruction. "Dean, eat your vegetables. And Sam, cut your hair. And Jack, go save the world." Well, I'm in favor of one or two of those things.

Try to tell me I'm wrong. Just try.

After-aftermath. Jack tells Sam that he doesn't know if he can kill God, since he was sidelined by a wood nymph "because I was stupid." He asks if Sam thinks he can do it.

"Jack, you're the only who can." No pressure.

Dean shows up with a truly awful-looking birthday cake for Jack. "I made it myself. Obviously." But Jack is thrilled because it's from Dean, and it means Dean loves him and has forgiven him, until the plot requires otherwise. He makes a wish and blows out his single candle. Fade to black.

So! There were parts of this that were simply marvelous. There were parts that were kind of dumb. There were parts that would have made me very angry if I weren't so tired and jaded. But the good parts were darn good, and the pretty was dialed up to 11, and we all know I'm a sucker for a pretty episode. And there was NO B PLOT. AT ALL. Thank you baby Jesus.

And let’s just refuse to consider the possibility that these were, in fact, their last holidays. Thanks.

Now I get to see what you thought about it. And, as always, please help me stay unspoiled for future episodes, including episode titles and casting info. {smooches}

#spn #15.14 #initial reaction #recap #tv recaps #spoilers

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tsukuna · 4 years

Text

Assistant to the Chancellor

Summary: “An outsider with no reason to be given the hefty task of dealing with the Gralean Empire’s flamboyant chancellor has ended up with just that. She’s willing to put up with all the antics, but is there ulterior motives for her obedience that none are privy to? And can they compete with the grim secrets of Chancellor Izunia himself?”

No True Rating Yet • Female Reader • Before the Events of XV • Under the Cut

A couple weeks had passed since you had begun working for Chancellor Izunia and you found yourself growing more comfortable with his flamboyant personality. If nothing else, you could tolerate it. There were even moments where you found yourself giggling at his little antics, to which he’d react with a self-satisfied smirk. You were grateful that these flirty gestures and comments were at least coming from an attractive man, not someone slimy and entirely not your type (which you weren’t quite sure what would even constitute as “your type”). You shuddered to imagine Besithia acting as Ardyn does.

It had taken a couple days and evenings, but you finally finished the paperwork--sifting through what you’d bring to his attention, throwing whatever out, putting official seals on anything that required it. All simple things, but it seemed far too much for someone who didn’t even appear to take the politics seriously. Though who were you to judge when you hardly took the work seriously yourself?

A sigh passed your lips, knowing that it would already be dark outside and thus you would need to go sleep soon after. You placed a soft knock on the Chancellor’s office door.

“Come in, love,” he invited with a sing-song voice.

“Ardyn,” you gave a short bow, “everything you need is ready for you.” You explained the gist of what you completed, hoping it’d make his busy work easier.

“Thank you. You continue to impress me everyday,” he said your name with a warm expression.

“That’s the goal, right?” You offered up the same energy. “I know it’s a bit late, and I wouldn’t want to keep you any longer, but is there anything else you’d like from me before I take my leave?”

Ardyn closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat, obviously considering your request. “Dinner!”

“Eh?” There was no chance of you holding back the shock on your face.

“Your boss is requesting that you share dinner with him,” he chirped. All you could do was blink at him for a few moments.

“I actually had some leftovers I have to finish so they don’t, uh, go bad,” you made an excuse.

“Hm, quite a predicament we find ourselves in,” Ardyn stated, scratching his stubble. “How about this then!” He excitedly put a finger up as if having an ‘Aha!’ moment. “Tomorrow is our day off, yes?” You slowly nodded your head with a quirked eyebrow. “Then we will go out for dinner, a nice dinner tomorrow night!”

“I…” You had no excuses to deny the Chancellor this time, and his satisfied expression indicated he was well aware. “If you truly wish to share a meal with your humble assistant tomorrow night, I shall accept.”

A sly smile graced Ardyn’s lips, “Wonderful, I haven’t had anything to look forward to in quite some time. We can meet here in the evening.” He laughed before waving you away, “That’ll be all for today, my dear. See you tomorrow,” he winked.

You bowed before bidding him goodnight and rushing to your room. Non-work related conversations with the man always left your brain feeling drained as you tried to ascertain what motivations he had under that carefree facade. You crashed unceremoniously onto your bed, not bothering to eat anything, though you technically did have leftovers that were going to spoil.

What were you to wear tomorrow? What conversation points did you have to discuss? Where were you even going to eat? Such questions eventually lulled you into a sleep.

Though not a very satisfying one. You woke up in the late afternoon to a mess of rat’s nest of hair and dried drool caked to one side of your mouth. ‘Maybe I should show up like this,’ you snorted but your better judgement told you to clean up. It wouldn’t be any good to lose your current position, it’s already difficult to get the information you’re looking for as is. You slinked off to the showers, making sure the temperature was as hot as your skin could take before stepping in. The shower routine you had wasn’t too long, yet you still sat there in contemplation long after you were done.

Travels all around Eos led you to no further information on what you were seeking--information about the lost and long-forgotten Astral you heard stories of as a child; stories that were deeply rooted in your existence. Eventually, the only place you hadn’t checked was Niflheim. And so here you sat, in the last place you could hope to check.

Your skin was raw from the hot water by the time you finally exited, but hey, at least you were clean now; however the clock was ticking against you, you slept in far too late and showered far too long. “Ah shit,” scolding yourself, you quickly got to work on finishing up your appearance.

It was nothing special, frankly speaking. You didn’t want to look like you tried too hard for your kinda-but-not-really dinner date with your superior. Donned in a black, sleeved, and laced dress accented with gold, you accessorized only with your pendant. The only styling your hair received was a decent blow drying. Nodding as you checked the mirror last time, you headed towards the office, but not to work this time.

Truthfully, you expected the Chancellor to be late like he often is at work, so your heart skipped a beat to see him waiting. “Apologies for making you wait for me,” you bowed once you finally reached him.

Taking you by the chin, Ardyn lifted your head up and gave one of the signature smiles, “Not a problem. I would be happy to wait a thousand years for a beauty such as yourself,” he kissed the back of your hand with a wink. Though it was nothing out of the ordinary for him to say, there was something about it that felt chilling. “I see you’re as lovely as ever,” he offered as a compliment.

“I see you’re looking… the same as ever,” you quirked a brow. He wore his typical dark, layered outfit, though you were a bit relieved to see that he ditched the fedora for the night. ‘I quite prefer his wine-red hair uncovered,’ you admitted to yourself.

“Apologies,” he chuckled, “Believe it or not, I don’t own very many outfits.” Seeing how eccentric Ardyn was, you did believe him and nodded as confirmation. “Well then,” he said your name in a rather sultry way that made you blush, “shall we get going?” The chancellor offered his arm to you, which you timidly took.

The two of you shortly arrived at a low-lit, rather intimate restaurant. It was intimidating to an extent, you’d never bothered to go somewhere nice. Your life had been about eating quickly, eating cheap, and only eating when necessary. “I don’t know if I belong at a nice place like this,” you remarked with a laugh as the two of you were seated.

“Nonsense, it is my duty to treat my ever faithful assistant to something out of the norm,” Ardyn gestured around the room.

“Treating?” You opened your eyes wide. “That won’t be necessary. I can pay for it. Though I appreciate the thought,” you put on a smile.

“Absolutely not! I am the one who invited you after all.”

“Well then next time I have to pay!” You quickly smacked your hand over your mouth, realizing what you said and the implications of it.

“You are one of the most entertaining humans I have ever met,” Ardyn stifled a laugh. “But fine, if you are to ask me out, I will allow you to pay.”

“Ever the gentleman.”

The chatter the two of you kept over dinner was rather innocent and not professional, but not overly colloquial either. There were, however, multiple incidences of him reaching over the small table to get touches of your hand in. To be honest, you weren’t too shocked at the gesture, but it did garner a bit of surprise out of you when he instead clutched your pendant between his fingers.

“Such an interesting little thing,” the Chancellor pointed out. “Such an interesting little gem.” He examined the green crystal, the designs within, and the metal twining with fervor. “You wear it daily.”

You nodded. “It is very special to me, it is all I have of my parents,” a soft smile came to your face. “It was actually an anniversary gift to my mother, but after their death, it ended up in my hands.” You paused before continuing, “It is the only earthly possession I truly care for--my most precious treasure.”

“To care for something is quite a gift,” Ardyn spoke absentmindedly almost as if you weren’t there, but you hummed affirmatively anyways. The waiter brought the check, breaking the man out of what appeared to be deep thought. It was a fast transaction, and finally, the night was winding down to an end.

Ever the chivalrous man, Ardyn walked you to your living spaces. “Thank you for tonight,” you bowed deeply. “It was an honor to spend alone time with the Chancellor,” the pleasantries slipped from your lips. It was a shock to find his fingers flicking your forehead, and you recoiled at the slight sensation.

“I thought I told you long ago not to act so, hmm, how to say… kiss-assy with me just cause you work for me,” the man rarely swore so you couldn’t fight the full smile and laugh that was drawn from you. He seemed pleased to have garnered such a reaction. “Sorry,” you managed to get out after another laugh.

“Well, dearest, it appears the night out is over. I thoroughly enjoyed the experience.” You nodded in agreement. “I shall see you once the work week begins,” the ever cheeky Ardyn leaned down to give a kiss to your forehead where he had previously flicked it before quickly turning and waving goodbye.

As you tried to sleep, your face heated every time you thought of the peck. You were aware that the majority of his flatteries were empty, but it still gave you butterflies. You had never let anyone share contact like that with you after all. A deep sigh rose out of you, you had to brush off all the strange feelings before work began as usual; however, you didn’t know if Ardyn would ever let you do so. The man certainly knew how to press buttons you didn’t know existed.

‘What a pain.’

#ardyn x reader #also posted to ao3 #find me on ao3 as Adagium (Chxltxn)#Self Insert #female reader #ardyn izunia #ardyn lucis caelum #final fantasy xv #ffxv #ghuoligans #multichapter #oops 2 years later #ardyn/reader #still love my boy though #slow build

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gyeomork · 4 years

Text

Breakup

(bambam x reader)

genre: little angst, fluff

warnings: cursing

word count: 1.6k

a/n: whew it’s been a while. school has been dragging me left and right but i finally have time to write. it’s very tough times so everyone please stay inside and stay safe. but back to the good news GOT7 COMEBACK you guys better be streaming!!!! and don’t swear by that moon damn it. lmao anyway i hope you enjoy this and give feedback please! bye muah ^3^

my boyfriend had just broken up with me. he was graduating in a few months and going to college miles away, leaving me here. apparently our relationship wouldn’t do well as long distance even though we haven’t tried it. i was a mess. i had to get away. escape… to the bathroom. to cry and really just let my shit loose. scream, yell, sob. not like anyone would hear me over the trash music booming through the house anyway. so there i am in the tub, letting my tears run down my face. what a fucking dick; invite me to this party to break up and leave me here. great, how am i supposed to get home? i’m not taking a ride from that dickwad.

right in the middle of my hysterical breakdown, someone walks in. smart ass, i mentally curse at myself, you go to the bathroom to breakdown and don’t lock the door. the stranger rushes in and hastily locks the door, not noticing me. he turns around and beelines straight for the toilet. he zips down his pants and begins a stream so heavy you’d think you’re at niagara falls. “dude! come on really?!” i exclaim while covering my eyes. “hey, gotta do what i gotta do” he says nonchalantly. “ok yea just hurry up and get out” i sniffle. i hear him zip up his pants so i uncover my eyes and recognize who it is, my boyfriend’s younger brother, bambam.

i can not let him see me like this. ‘why?’ you ask. let me tell you about bambam. bambam, or bam, is the class clown that knows any and everything about any and everyone. wanna know what happened in the bathroom during 3rd period? ask bam. why did she never come back to school after the dance? ask bam. hell, what did the principal have for lunch on sunday? ask bam. 99% of the time, he knew and 99% of the time, he talked shit and made fun you. and after that, for the next few weeks or so, the rumors would spread like a wildfire and you’d be the laughing stock of the whole school. for that, i despise him. of course every time i would go to my boyfriend- ex-boyfriend’s house, he would be nice to me; offer me water, snacks but only because he had to. their parents are huge on manners. but moral of the story, i’ve never been exploited by bam and i don’t need to be now.

i look deep into my lap to avoid eye contact and possible recognition. he washes his hands and goes to the towel next to the tub to dry them. i feel his eyes on me but i keep mine focused on my lap. he makes his way to the door and i start rejoicing in my head but he stops and begins to speak and i feel my heart sink. my school year is already ending bad as is, i really don’t need a bunch of meat head kids staring and whispering loudly about me to add to the trauma. “y/n. can i talk to you?” he asks with a serious tone. his seriousness took me by surprise, he’s always goofing off and trying to make me laugh. i never do of course. he turns around and walks over to me “no, i need to talk to you. scoot over”. i was so devastated that i didn’t have the strength to fight him so i make room. we sit side by side with our feet dangling off the edge of the tub.

“i’m sorry” he starts “i should have told you he was going to do this” i glance at him and he has a guilty look on his face while playing with one of his many rings. “you knew?” i ask with a tinge of disgust in my voice. he doesn’t say anything, he just nods. “there’s another girl” he looks at me with sympathy. “when you left our house, so did he to go to her’s. that’s why every time you came back for something you left, he was ‘in the shower’ even though he just showered while you were there” when he’s speaking everything starts clicking in my head. “they’ve had this plan to go to college together for months now and when they were both accepted it just sealed the deal”. for months. they’ve had this plan for months. every memory. every moment we had over those months. all fake. no wonder he took me to this party, for him it’s a celebration.

i begin to cry again. “i’m so sorry y/n” he reaches out to comfort me but i smack his hand away. “why didn’t you tell me? so you can watch it happen in front of your eyes and then run and tell everyone? and for what? do you get off by watching other people’s pain?” i snap at him. “no! god no! do you think i want to see you hurt like this?” he snaps back. “then why didn’t you tell me?” i practically yell at him. “because you pushed me away!” he yells and i flinch out of shock. “because you pushed me away” he says quieter and looks down to fiddle with his rings again. “i tried to talk to you but you would never listen. you would always tell me to leave you alone like i had wronged you. i would tap on your shoulder and you’d look as of though i had killed your parents” he admits sulkily and i sat there silently feeling guilty. “for nights i stayed up thinking about you, wondering what i had possibly done wrong. i thought so hard and lost hours of sleep thinking. do you know what that shit does to a person y/n. it tortured me” i bit on my lip feeling more guilty than a boy who stole cookies out of the cookie jar and got caught. “i asked myself questions like ‘is it because i’m her brother’s boyfriend?’, ‘does she hate me?’” i looked away when he asked that, feeling waves of remorse crash over me. “wait. you hate me?” he asked sounding as broken as ever. “why?” he asks softly “is it because i’m the ‘rumor king’. because that shit’s not true” he says defending himself. “really?” i ask and he shakes his head. “yes the ‘rumor king’ is a rumor. it all started when i told some of my friends what happened to that one girl that fell down the stairs two years ago. they took the story, twisted it, and spread it. at this point i don’t tell them stories anymore because every time i do, they're ready to make adjustments. and to get the burden of everyone asking them what happened off of them, they say they heard it from me. they just love the attention, they think it’s hilarious. it’s sickening” he says in annoyance.

i can’t believe i spent all this time resenting bam when he was just trying to help me. i feel so stupid to not give him the light of day and push him away. to think that all of this pain and stupidity i’m feeling right now could’ve been avoided if i had just listened to him. i feel like complete and utter shit so, naturally, i cry again. “i’m sorry i made you feel like that bam, i’m sorry i hated you for no reason, i shouldn’t have pushed you away, god i’m so stupid” i bury my face in my hands. “hey no don’t say that. come here” he wraps his arms around me and brings me into his chest. “it’s not your fault, i would’ve hated me too” we chuckle. “i shouldn’t have been making you lose sleep because you did nothing wrong” i muffle into his sweater. “you make me lose sleep regardless” i hear his heartbeat quicken and so does mine.

“i could stay up for hours thinking about just your smile” he smiles and covers his face with his one free hand in embarrassment. i look up at him and stare into his beautiful brown eyes that i could see myself getting lost in. i’ve been so busy hating him that i never realized how attractive he is. especially when he cut his hair shorter than ever before; everyone hated it but i thought it made him look even more attractive. i never knew how beautiful of a person he could be. he gently wipes my tears away with his soft hands. his eyes are staring right back into my puffy ones and flicker to my lips once in a while. i swallow nervously, having an idea of where this might be going next. i glance down to his plush pink lips and that gives him the cue to lean in. the kiss was more than i imagined it to be. his pillowy soft lips were working wonders on me and before i knew it, it was over. he scans my face to make sure that i was okay with it and i was more than okay. he kisses me again but this time with more fervor. i slide my hands to the back of his head to deepen the kiss while his hands move down to my waist pulling me closer and eventually on top of him. it was getting more and more intense by the second until we jumped at the sound of someone beating down the bathroom door yelling about how badly they needed to piss. both of our eyes widen and we start to laugh. i hide my face in the crook of his neck from the embarrassing position we were in. he kisses my neck and asks “you wanna get out of here?”

#bambam #bambam got7 #bambam fic #bambam fanfic #bambam fluff #bambam imagine #bambam scenario #got7 #got7 fic #got7 fanfic #got7 fluff #got7 imagine #got7 scenario #got7 bambam #bambam angst #got7 angst

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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years

Text

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day One Hundred Forty-Four: Bearing Fruit ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]

For so long, he had so little to show for his actions.

His growth while training in Konoha felt...stagnate. From age seven when the massacre occurred to thirteen when the chūnin exams concluded, it was like he crawled along at a snail’s pace while time raced forward. Time, time, he never had enough time…!

Training under Orochimaru was...better, but still felt...lacking. Not in the sense that the snake sannin was keeping things from him, or...coddling him. More like he didn’t take Sasuke entirely seriously. Their views...differed. Whenever Sasuke spared those Orochimaru demanded he kill, he was called soft. It didn’t matter that he argued no one else had to die but Itachi. He could still see the derision in his teacher’s eyes.

A look that clearly said weak.

Then, finally, nearly a decade of work paid off. He confronted his brother, had a long and bloody battle...but emerged the victor. At last, his clan would have peace. Revenge.

But...no.

It was all a lie.

Madara - or Obito, as Sasuke later learned he was truly called - pulled the rug out from under him. Granted...as furious and confused as he was, Sasuke had to be grateful. If not for Obito and his scheming...he’d likely have never known about the truth of the Uchiha incident. Behind the slaughter of his family, his clan, his people.

But what irked him most wasn’t that he’d been lied to...it was that, once again, all his efforts were in vain. He mourned his brother, of course...but it felt like he’d been knocked all the way back to square one. Seeking revenge against those who wronged him.

Once again he was a little boy staring up angrily at the people who had truly taken everything from him.

But this time...he wouldn’t fail.

Danzō was simple enough. The fool’s martyrdom didn’t bother Sasuke in the slightest. It wasn’t like he’d have lasted much longer anyway. Next on his list was Konoha.

But before that could happen, Obito went and started a war. And during that war, Sasuke confronted even more truths. Learned even more about the futility of his previous plans, as he spoke to both his brother, and the prior Hokage.

Could nothing be simple?

Even his ultimate plan - to clean the slates of the old ways, and bring the shadows of the shinobi world to light - was stopped in its tracks.

By none other than Naruto.

How nauseatingly typical.

Of course, by now, he’s come to terms with that...interruption. But at the time, his rage, his disappointment, his fervor to do something, anything, about a world that had led to so many wars, so many deaths, so many massacres, pushed him to the most radical of solutions.

But at least he’d tried to do something…!

How many others simply laid down and accepted such a world? A world where genin watched young and grown men throw their lives away as tools? Where children were burdened with beasts of unimaginable power...and treated like pariahs when they’d had no choice in such matters? Where an entire clan could be wiped off the map simply for demanding equal treatment beneath a rigged and biased system?

It, quite frankly, sickened him.

But, for a time...Sasuke grew tired. So, so tired. Finally he had the power to make such a change reality. Ten years after the loss of his clan, he was practically a god among shinobi. But his only equal dogged his every step. Tempered him, maybe...but also refused to see any path, any method, but his own.

So, Sasuke intended to leave. Clear his head. Try to figure out the true path to peace.

But, Life had other plans. Itachi was revived. Shisui revealed himself to be alive. His niece and nephew were sparks of potential for a new generation of Uchiha, half-blood or not.

Something new finally bloomed in him.

Hope.

He wasn’t alone…! He had not one, but two of his kin at his side. Suddenly the bleak future of solitude he’d accepted was no more.

...but what to do with that hope?

They started at the top. Oust the prior council. Unite the clans against the imbalance of power between the administration and their populations. Homura and Koharu were forced to step down, stripped of their powers. Never again would they incite violence against their own people. Itachi was pardoned to match his brother.

At last, the Uchiha were free…!

Of course...it wasn’t so simple. Legally they’d been reinstated. Socially? They were still outcasts. But Sasuke cared little about that. He had his family. He needed nothing else.

...well...almost nothing else.

Idling was, for him, an impossibility. Sit too long without an occupation, and he’d surely go mad. So, he started scavenging for something to do. At first he considered rejoining the shinobi ranks - his brother had done so, taking over the ANBU branch. Shisui took a job as a Hokage bodyguard. But what could he do…? Simply doing grunt shinobi work seemed...pointless. He was too strong to be wasted on petty missions. ANBU work was challenging, sure, but...not his style.

And then...it hit him.

He’d return to his roots. A job he’d daydreamed of holding when he was just a boy.

Sasuke decided to rebuild the police force.

Of course, he knew he couldn’t do so alone. Strong as he was, he was just one man. To patrol an entire village - meet all of its citizens’ needs - he’d never manage.

So, he turned to their allies.

Having offered a hand to the Uchiha early on in their return, the Hyūga were like a looming shadow behind them, daring anyone to bring trouble to their distant cousins. Sasuke, Itachi, and Shisui were mighty - among the mightiest. But they lacked numbers. And that was where the Hyūga came in.

Among them, Sasuke had been getting to know Hinata best. No longer heiress (and no longer seeking to be), she instead had been serving as a kind of diplomat between their clans. With a returned Neji acting as Hanabi’s advisor, she in turn was the bridge between the families.

Which was wise. She wasn’t stuffy or overbearing like Sasuke quickly learned the rest of the Hyūga were. She he could get along with.

Rather well, actually.

Which is why he brought his idea first to her.

Something had sparked in her eyes. An eagerness. Quickly agreeing, she helped organize and bring the idea before her father, sister, and cousin.

After brief deliberation, it was agreed. The Uchiha and Hyūga would unite to create a new police force. The eyes to watch over Konoha from within.

Just as Itachi watched beyond their wall.

To Sasuke’s honest surprise, Hinata was among the first to join. She admitted to a similar sensation: one of idleness and feeling useless. Diplomacy, yes, she was well-versed in...but it felt unsatisfying. Shinobi missions, too, were just not the same. Not enough. She agreed perfectly that helping Konoha from within would help strengthen it. Clear out bad will, keep order, help those that needed help when a shinobi wasn’t able.

Was it any wonder, then, that they became partners, soon leading the force together?

It was then, some time after their founding, that Sasuke felt...complete. Like he’d finally found his role. All of his efforts - all the years, the work, the pain - were finally bearing fruit. No longer did he feel like a failure, always one step behind.

No...now, he’d taken the reins of his own destiny. He would protect and shape Konoha from within to something bigger, better, than it was before. The shadows would be cleared under his watchful eyes.

And he wouldn’t do it alone.

In fact...he’d never have to do anything else alone ever again. He’d found and gathered his family...rebuilt the bonds with his friends...and found a quiet love in the last place he expected to find it.

The fruits of his labors were sweet, indeed.

I'm...slightly early for once! Woohoo! Another of my more...introspective pieces. Sometimes when a prompt feels a bit too...vague, I do pieces like this. Not based on a scene, or dialogue, but more on a recap of how that prompt overarches for a character. And...most of the time it's Sasuke, lol - I don't know why! In all honesty I relate to Hinata very closely, so...I don't know why I default to writing from Sasuke's POV more often. He's just easier for me to write. *shrugs* ANYWHO, this is - obviously - about how Sasuke finally finds a place and a purpose post-war. ALAS has a LOT of canon divergence post-699 (as my regulars will know), and this sums up a few ways it's different. There's...a LOT more to it, like the main conflict of arc three (aka everything post-699), but...that's not the focus for tonight. But, before I blabber on, I'll call it a night - I can finally get to bed early for once xD And as always, thank you for reading!

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #a light amongst shadows [ canon verse ]#365daysofsasuhina

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emmizu · 6 years

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bluepulse

‘holy shit you just saved me from getting run over by a bus’ au to ‘did you just crash my super important business party in your superhero costume?’ au

[first] [previous] more to come I’m sure :)

Jaime really needed some air. Keeping track of everyone Michael was talking to and making sure he didn’t mess up any investment opportunities when Ted stepped away was exhausting. Not to mention time consuming. That was why he needed to step outside on the balcony for a quick break.

Also, he hadn’t been able to look at his phone all night. Kid Flash was probably texting him like crazy. Like usual. If he had to guess there was probably thirty or more messages. So, when he pulled out his phone and checked- there wasn’t anything there.

Just the last message of him telling Kid Flash that he was heading out. The speedster didn’t even reply. He’d read the message, but he didn’t get the usual emoji filled reply. It was a little disappointing.

He was probably out on a mission. A pretty important one if he couldn’t even reply to a text like he usually did.

Jaime put his phone away and leaned against the balcony railing. Looking over the edge, he watched the celebrities lining up and walking down the red carpet before coming inside to the event. Big time celebrities were coming. Bruce Wayne was their big hitter, and some of his kids, which was great because Michael needed their backing if their business was going to make it.

“Lame party,” came an all too familiar voice.

Startled, Jaime spun around to greet his surprising company. The red and yellow superhero suit was strikingly bright under the Gotham City night smog. His gaze immediately snapped over to the balcony doors. They were closed and the windows’ curtains were long enough to cover them. Luckily, they were the only people out here.

Thankgodforthat. Damn him.

“It is lame,” Jaime replied uneasily, walking over to the superhero and using his body to, at least, try to block him from anyone who happened to look out here. “You seriously came here all suited up like that?”

Kid Flash had no shame in his game as he touched Jaime’s chest and pulled on his blue tie. “Figured I’d stop by and see what the fuss was all about.”

“Aren’t you on a mission?” Jaime asked, attempting to push the other’s hands away and failing.

“Sure am.” Kid Flash answered, peeking around him to get a glimpse of the party. His hands roamed down in a teasing motion before trailing back up to his shoulders.

Jaime connected the dots right away and shook his head, grabbing Kid Flash’s shoulders to drag his stare away from the scene behind him. “You’re here to watch the party?”

All of a sudden, Kid Flash looked hesitant. His mouth hung open on empty words. Then when Jaime blinked, the expression was gone and replaced with a forced smile. “Yeah just some simple surveillance.”

“Right.” Jaime should’ve expected that answer. “Can I at least ask why?”

Kid Flash was studying him now. The red lenses on his goggles made it hard to tell what color his eyes were. All he would have to do was slip them onto the kid’s forehead and see for himself. Wait. Did he just call Kid Flash a kid?

Well, it was hard to judge whether the person under all those colors was a teenager or… a young adult. Actually, teenagers were like young adults, but he thought there was a difference at least. It was strange though. In the moments they were alone like this, he’d never asked to see the person underneath.

And Kid Flash had never offered.

Jaime didn’t touch the goggles, but he did hold speedster’s face in his hands.

“You’ve never… how old are you, ese?”

The question seemed to startle the young hero. So much so, Kid Flash grasped Jaime’s wrists- squeezing them with a startled laugh. “You ask so many questions sometimes, dude. Um, since it’s so important to you, I’m eighteen and three quarters.”

Oh.

What should he say to that?

A part of him was really relieved, but another part of him was worried. That was a young age. Kid Flash has been around for a long time. Years even. Last year, he’d gotten a total knee replacement. It was in the news for three weeks straight. No one from the Flash family ever addressed the circumstances.

It wasn’t his place to ask either, but somehow his gaze wandered.

Kid Flash’s voice got his attention again. “Did I totally freak you out? ‘Cause if I did,” he said- looking over Jaime’s shoulder quickly. Someone had opened the door then closed it before stepping out onto the balcony. “Guess that’s my cue to go.”

Jaime dropped his hands and attempted to step away. However, his attempt was cut short as Kid Flash grabbed onto one of them, tugging at him to stay put.

“Before I go,” Kid Flash said, expression playful. Grasping the lapels of Jaime’s suit, Kid Flash brought him close. So close, they were practically breathing each other in. He smelled like sandalwood and sweat. The scents were only undertones likely smothered by his suit.

He’d read once on the internet that their uniforms could hide their scents if need be.

Their eyes locked for a brief moment before sliding down to each other’s lips. Kid Flash was grinning like the Cheshire cat. Teeth and all. His gaze was sultry. Jaime’s heart was pounding against his chest and echoing in his head.

God, he hated that someone like him had this sort of effect.

Swallowing uneasily, Jaime glanced away from those tempting lips. They were dry and cracked, but Kid Flash had recently licked them. He could tell by the sheen coming off of them from the balcony lights.

“We should go on another date soon,” he suggested quietly, adjusting his grip momentarily. “I’ll text you tomorrow?”

Jaime almost didn’t realize the last part was meant to be a question. It was his way of asking if all of this was okay with him. How could someone so young be so… he didn’t know the proper word for it.

Kid Flash was already leaning back, patting his chest affectionately and straightening his jacket and tie. “I’m taking the starry-eyed look as a yes, Jaime. But I’ll let you get back to the party.”

“W-wait! Let me just…” It took every ounce of self-confidence to do this. To grab the back of his head, bury his fingers into his windswept hair, and pull him forward into a much-needed kiss. Kid Flash inhaled sharply through his nose before returning his partner’s fervor.

So, he was right. The kid’s lips were rough against his, but Jaime didn’t mind tracing his tongue over them. Kid Flash enjoyed the attention, gripping the other’s hips and pulling him tight against him. Sucking the speedster’s bottom lip into his mouth, Jaime nipped it over and over- making sure his partner would be feeling this later.

Releasing the properly abused lip, Jaime tilted his head to the opposite side and trailed a slew of wet kisses to Kid Flash’s ear. The warm skin underneath his lips vibrated strangely, leaving them tingly. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling either. Especially since they were pressed right up against each other.

Whispering hotly, “sorry… I hope that was okay.”

“More than okay,” Kid Flash panted, kissing the other’s cheek with a chuckle.

Being this close, Jaime noticed for the first time how red the speedster’s entire face was. He could even feel their hearts thrashing against each other’s chests. It was like they were trying to escape with how hard and fast they were beating.

He needed to go back to the party. Really he did, but he wanted to keep kissing Kid Flash. Who happened to be nuzzling into the crook of his neck, lightly nipping the skin there. Jaime kept one hand in Kid Flash’s hair while the other dropped to his lower back with a groan.

“So, you gonna let me leave now or are you keeping me hostage? Red’ll kill me if I don’t get back on mission.”

With a sigh, Jaime leaned back to get a good look at him. God, he internally whined. Kid Flash looked absolutely wrecked. Amazingly so. Throwing his head back, he slowly dropped his hands to his sides and took a careful step away- checking over his shoulder quickly when the balcony door started to open.

Before he could say anything, Kid Flash had already disappeared. Where exactly he went, Jaime had no idea. This place was crowded and practically glowing from all the paparazzi lingering outside with their cameras. So, the only place he could’ve gone was up.

As if following the thought, he looked up at the side of the building- imagining the escape for himself until another voice broke his thoughts.

“Ted said you’d be out here.”

Jaime nearly gave himself whiplash with how fast he turned his attention to the newcomer. Holy crap! It was Tim Drake. As in adopted son to Bruce Wayne. As in, he needed to nail whatever conversation he was about to have with said famous person.

“Y-yeah. Here I am. What d’you need?”

“I’d like to talk about Michael’s company, but I’d like to hear about it from you. Get your perspective and all that.”

Oh, thank god. He could talk business. Anything to get his mind off of Kid Flash. Speaking of, did he just see a reflection of red yellow lightning in the windows behind Tim’s head?

#bluepulse #speedbuggy #young justice #jaime reyes #bart allen #blue beetle #impulse #expanding on that au everyone went crazy for #thanks for reading folks #toodles

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language-rxgers · 7 years

Text

Best Boyfriend You’ve Never Had (Bucky x Reader)- Part 2

Summary: Reader tells Nat, Wanda and Sam of her situation, and confides in them the unexpected reason behind her denial that it will lead to happily ever after.

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Reader, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Steve Rogers (mentioned)

Warnings: Feels, slight angst

Word Count: 2152

A/N: So sorry it’s been a while, but here’s part 2! I don’t know for sure when part 3 will be up, but it’ll be soon! Thanks for reading, and enjoy!

Masterlist

Part 1 (Previous) / Part 3

*gif is not mine; credit to rightful owner*

The next day, Bucky had gone on a small trial mission with Steve. He hadn’t been out with the team in the field since his return from Wakanda; while T’Challa’s scientists were successful in thoroughly erasing HYDRA’s trigger words from Bucky’s mind, he still suffered from haunting nightmares and PTSD from both his time in the war and as the Winter Soldier. However, he had been getting better, with the help of yourself, Steve and the rest of the team, and after months of training and recovery, he finally felt ready to join the Avengers on missions. Now, mind you, this wasn’t a real mission; it was just a trial scenario- a simulation set up by Tony and Maria, with former SHIELD field agents Hill had recruited acting as the enemies. You hadn’t a shade of doubt in Bucky though; he was really doing so much better, and he was so thankful to finally be free of HYDRA’s hold. He still had a ways to go, but you knew he would never be alone again, not while you were still breathing.

At around noon, after finishing the last of some paperwork, you headed down to the kitchen. You entered to see Sam and Natasha sitting at the counter, both nursing steaming cups of coffee, and Wanda was cooking on the stove. It smelled intoxicating, but then again, anything Wanda made was fantastic. Though the team had made a schedule for grocery shopping and cooking, it usually ended up being Wanda who would take over for the meals, claiming no one on the team knew how to cook. Not that you were complaining. You smiled at the young Sokovian as you claimed the stool next to Nat.

“What’cha making?” You leaned over the counter to peak at what was cooking in the frying pan, face splitting into a pleased grin at the sight of brown rice and steamed vegetables in one pan, with chicken breast in another beside it. It may look simple, but Wanda had some sort of secret recipe for the meal that was like no other. “Oh, Wand, I adore you.” She grinned, tending to the stir-fry.

“So, any news from Steve about Bucky?” She turned down the heat on the stove, looking up at you. You shook your head.

“Steve said it would most likely take a few hours, but I’m not worried. I’m sure Buck’s gonna do great.” A giddy grin split across your face at the mention of the chestnut-haired soldier. Ever since you had agreed to bring him as your fake boyfriend to your sister’s wedding, your chest swelled in excitement at the thought of him. Nat, of course, took note of this. She bumped your shoulder.

“What’s got you all excited? Ever since yesterday you’ve been irritatingly chipper.” She sipped nonchalantly from her mug, eyeing you from her peripheral. You simply shrugged.

“I dunno. Just in a good mood.” You played with a pen laying on the marble countertop. Nat gave an insinuating hum.

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain team member possessing a certain metal appendage?” You felt heat spread through your cheeks. Your eyes flashed to Sam warningly, who was staring bug-eyed at your reaction, trying desperately to hold back a teasing remark. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Okay, it’s not what you think-“ you pointed an accusing finger at a smirking Nat. “I know that look, and it’s not like that, but I guess I do have something I need to tell you. I’m only telling you guys because if I don’t then Sam will start a rumor-“ the mentioned former pararescue airman feigned an offended expression, placing a hand on his chest, “-and then everyone will suddenly think I’m in love with Bucky. I’m not, okay, he’s just my friend.” Please, don’t let them see through it, keep your face straight, (Y/N). “This doesn’t leave this room, got it?” Sam, Nat and Wanda all simultaneously nodded their heads with fervor, eager to hear your confession. Wanda leaned forward, rice and chicken forgotten on the stove. You took in a deep breath. “Alright, so yesterday, I got a letter from my sister- an invitation. She’s getting married.”

Cheers of congratulations were exclaimed, before you shushed them, smiling in gratitude. “She’s getting married, and I’m a bridesmaid, but she said that she expects me to bring a plus-one for once. I didn’t want to be that one sister who still doesn’t have boyfriend again, so I may have told her I have one. She was so excited, I felt like I had to, you know? I mean, I haven’t been on a date since dinosaurs roamed the Earth, and every family reunion, it’s always the same questions: ‘So, (Y/N), anyone special in your life yet?’; ‘Well, (Y/N), I’ve already met everyone else’s dates for the night, where are you hiding yours?’; ‘Oh, you still aren’t in a relationship? That’s fine, I guess. But not for too long, I hope, I’d like to have grandchildren sometime before I die.’ I just couldn’t do it again.” You sighed in exasperation. Nat frowned.

“So, you said you had a date, but you don’t. What next?” You bit your lip and met her eyes; you had a feeling she knew what was next.

“Bucky came by my office after I hung up, and I vented to him. I wasn’t expecting him to do anything, but next thing I know, he’s offering to be my plus-one. And I mean, plus-one, plus-one.”

Wanda’s eyebrows shot up. “Like a fake boyfriend type thing? Like the movies?”

You nodded. “Yes, it was like a scene straight out of ‘Can’t Buy Me Love’ or like one of those Hallmark movies.”

Sam straightened, pointing a finger at you. “Hey, don’t drag the Hallmark movies, they don’t get nearly the credit they deserve!” You raised an eyebrow at his outburst. His mouth fell slightly agape, hand slowly lowering as he sealed his lips again and avoided your gaze. Wanda held a hand over her smirk, giggling softly. Nat rolled her eyes and inhaled, turning back to you.

“So, what, now Brooklyn Boy’s playing your guy for the wedding?” You nodded, grimacing. You slumped forward onto the counter, head resting in your hands.

“This is a terrible idea, I’m so awful at acting. There’s a reason I never go on undercover ops. And even if I was, they’ll never believe Bucky’s with me. Ugh, I should just call my sister and tell her I’m coming alone. I’ll say we broke up or something, wait for Bucky to get back and tell him he’s off the hook.” You felt a hollow pain radiate through your skull, recoiling and sitting back to look at a wide eyed Nat. Her brows were furrowed in disbelief and her hand was still resting in mid-air. “What the fuck!? Did you just hit me upside the head? Who does that?” The bitter smell of burning chicken assaulted your senses, and you, Nat and Sam all turned to the stove. Wanda met yours eyes before snapping her head down to the sizzling food below.

“Shit!” As she scrambled to turn off the stove and salvage the meal, Nat turned back to you after the shock wore off.

“Are you insane? Why would you do that? Haven’t you ever seen a romantic comedy in your life? This is great!” You narrowed your eyes at the bright-eyed redhead, quirking a questioning eyebrow. She sighed in frustration. “Obviously, you guys are supposed to go to the wedding together, pretend to be a couple, fall for each other- if you haven’t already, which I seriously doubt- have some sort of falling out or misunderstanding, realize you can’t be without the other, reunite, and make up with some huge romantic gesture. Happily ever after’s practically been served to you on a silver platter in the name of James Buchanan Barnes.” You almost laugh at how naïve she was being. Someone like Natasha, who was raised knowing nothing other than the cruelty of life, that love is a fantasy children make up in blissful ignorance of the harsh realities of life.

“Nat, you know damn well that there’s no such thing as happily ever after. Especially not for people like me. That’s a pipe dream for idealists.” Wanda frowned, setting down the frying pan she was wiping down.

“People like you? What exactly do you mean by that?” Her question left no room for nonsense, but there was a softness in her eyes, a genuine confusion as to why you thought you wouldn’t deserve to be happy. Your eyes widened at your slip up.

“Uh- us. I meant people like us. T-there’s no certainty in what we do, anyone we dare to love could die at any time. Missions, threats, enemies- we’re surrounded by danger; we can’t risk getting close to anyone. It’s hard enough not being able to save innocent people you don’t know; I don’t know if I could handle losing someone who wasn’t just a civilian to me.” The kitchen fell into a somber silence as the other three pondered your comment. They knew it was true. They couldn’t not.

Nat shook her head. “(Y/N), I know that you’re scared. You want to protect everyone. But you can’t close yourself off and keep yourself from being happy for the rest of your life. Yes, this life is hard and unpredictable. But that just makes it so much more worth it to find happiness for yourself, in whatever form you can, for however long you can. You need to just run with it, be happy, for once. And you’re wrong. There is such a thing as happily ever after. Maybe it won’t last forever, but in that moment, it does. Even if it’s lost five minutes later, that five minutes of happily ever after is so worth the pain. Better to have had and then lost, than to never have had at all.” You were struck by Natasha’s words. Her peridot eyes shone with wetness, a faint smile gracing her full lips as her eyes glazed over in nostalgia.

You knew she was talking about Bruce. You had been there for her through every step of their story; her realization that she loved him, her confession, his hesitance due to the fear that he couldn’t give her a love she deserved, their brief moment of happily ever after, her heartbreak after his decision to disappear, and her recovery from it all. You had always thought that you would never let yourself hurt the way she had hurt, but now, as you reflected on how happy she had been before Bruce had hit stealth mode on that jet after Sokovia and disappeared into an oxymoronically fond yet painful memory, you felt a foreign sense of desire for that moment before the heartbreak. That perfect moment before the tide falls.

While you knew Bucky didn’t love you as you secretly did him, you knew that with your life, you rarely would get a moment in which there were no worries of impending threats and responsibilities. While maybe it wouldn’t be a romantic one, perhaps your five minutes of happiness could be that brief moment of serenity, a weekend away with your best friend and family, celebrating not a successful mission in which there were no casualties or lost friends, but the joining of two innocent lives on a path leading to their own happily ever after forever.

You met Nat’s eyes again, letting out a soft exhale, and she knew she had finally gotten through to you.

“You’re right. It won’t end up being romantic like the movies, but maybe it’ll be worth it. A weekend away with my best friend and family. Be a nice chance to get away from all this for a second. Pretend to be on my way to having what my sister has. Love, stability, I guess it is kind of a nice idea.” Wanda reached across the glossy marble and grabbed your hand, squeezing it gently. The corners of your lips brushed upwards in gratitude, then you met Sam’s eyes over Nat’s shoulder. He nodded, giving you a soft and genuine smile.

You and your three teammates- and now, confidants- fell into an easy chatter while you ate Wanda’s impressively salvaged meal, entirely unaware of a fourth presence lingering just outside the doorway.

Bucky leaned against the wall, mulling over the conversation he had been shamelessly eavesdropping on for the past few minutes, the same thought constantly repeating in his head. While you had insisted that your arrangement with Bucky wouldn’t end up to be romantic, you had never explicitly denied that you didn’t want it to. He knew it was a reach, but a flicker of hope sparked in the blue-eyed soldier’s chest as he continued on his way down the hall to his room.

‘Love, stability, I guess it is kind of a nice idea.’

A/N: Sorry it took a while, but here it is! Part 3 coming soon.

Part 1 (Previous) / Part 3

Tag List- Sorry if I missed anyone’s requests, let me know and I’ll be sure to add you! Strikethrough means the blog couldn’t be tagged.

@the-instrumental-mortal

@satans-knitting-club

@starkxpotts

@bexboo616

@learisa

@chaosinacoffeecup

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader fluff #bucky barnes #avengers #marvel #bucky barnes x reader fluff #future angst #fluff #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #sam wilson #steve rogers #future bucky angst #here we go #bucky barnes wedding au

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leslieohdamnjr · 7 years

Note

Hey could do the turn into an unexpected kiss with Thomas Jefferson where the reader lowkey hates him, but like he's their crush anyway.

Okay so I didn’t exactly do this request because I misread the prompt but it was still pretty unexpected…

It wasn’t that you hated him, nor that he was as arrogant, self absorbed or insufferable as so many people made him seem. It was that he was handsome, naturally charismatic and smart as hell. And that you couldn’t help but lash out at someone who made you feel so weak. So it seemed like every time you even caught his eye you’d be yelling at each other about this or that. Which only made the people around you hate the both of you more.

“God, when will you finally just fuck him?” Angelica groaned, dragging you into a separate room after a particularly heated argument with Thomas at a party she and her sisters were hosting.

“Despite what you think Ange, hatred isn’t always sexually charged.”

“Fine, but this one definitely is.” You shook your head. “Tell me, straight to my face, that you’ve never thought about hitting that.”

“I have only rarely thought about hitting that.” You smirked back at her as she downed the last of her drink.

“So you admit it!”

“Only rarely!” You repeated.

“C’mon.” She whined, “You haven’t had a drop tonight, have some fun!” She took your wrist to drag you somewhere else, seemingly having already forgotten the conversation you were just having

Several drinks later, you felt that ‘having some fun’ was beyond you. You were sick to your stomach and less than balanced. Mostly you just wanted to go home and crawl into your bed.

“Angelica.” You said slowly, each letter you pronounced sounding less enunciated than the last, reaching her as she stood in a group of about five of her friends, “Can you drive me home, please? I don’t feel good.”

“Um, sur-” She was interrupted by a loud crash coming from the next room over, “Oh shit. Y/N, I gotta…” She’d run off before she could even go on, leaving you standing alone and wondering if you were going to fall over right then and there. You certainly couldn’t start walking, you were in no state to operate a pair of stilettos. Perhaps it was for the best that she’d left before agreeing to drive you anywhere, she wasn’t exactly stone cold sober herself.

“Hey, you okay?” A pair of hands came down on your shoulders stopping the swaying you hadn’t even noticed you’d been doing.

You looked up at the man in front of you. Ugh. “You are the first thing I- last thing I need right now.” You slurred, trying to slap Thomas’ hands off of your shoulders. You mostly missed and even when one of your hands hit his, it was barely strong enough to be called a tap.

“Really?” Thomas droned, “Because it looks like you need someone sober to drive you home.”

“You guessed it hotshot.” You said, making a finger gun toward the center of his chest.

“C’mon.” He said, moving his arm around your shoulders to keep you steady and beginning to walk you toward the door.

“Just get Angelica.” You complained, “Anyone else.”

“Angelica’s drunk and she asked me to take you home.”

“Clever.” You muttered, letting him take you to the door. As soon as you stepped outside, the chilly air hit your face and made even your flushed cheeks cold to the touch. “It’s cold.” You said.

“You can have my jacket.” Thomas stopped walking to shed his jacket and drape it over your shoulders.

“Why are you being so nice?” You asked as he pulled you further down the street, past several cars parked at the curb. He didn’t answer, only opened the door to a boxy car reminiscent of the late sixties for you to fall into the passenger side.

“Gotta say,” You began once he sat down next to you, “Would not have pictured you driving this.”

“She’s a good car.” He sighed, pulling onto the street.

“She?” You giggled.

“Yes, she.” He defended.

“But seriously. Why are you being so nice to me? I thought you hated me.”

“I don’t hate you.” You gave him your best ‘seriously?’ look, though you weren’t sure how clear it was due to your disoriented state. “I don’t!” He assured, glancing at you before turning his eyes back to the road. Apparently your expression made sense enough.

“I don’t hate you, and you don’t hate me.” He shrugged.

“Then why are we always shouting at each other?” You asked,

“Because you make me feel like I’m losing control.” He explained. “I can’t focus, I can’t put together words the right way, and I don’t understand what I’m feeling. I don’t know what it is about you. And you don’t hate me, you’re just responding to what I say to you.”

“Are you saying you’re in love with me?” You sang.

“Love’s not the word I would use, darling.” He chuckled, “How about deeply infatuated with you?”

“Alright fine.” A sudden bravery shot through you and you opened your mouth before you could even stop yourself. “Pull over.”

“Why?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Just for a second.” He did as you said and the car came to a slow stop at the side of the road. Without a second thought, you took hold of his loosened tie and pressed your lips to his. For a second, Thomas squirmed in shock, but his hands quickly came to the base of your neck and he was kissing you back with equal fervor. Though, his side of the equation was much more coordinated.

“I’m deeply infatuated with you too.” You murmured.

“Are you or is it just all the vodka in you right now?”

I’m sorry I already finished writing when I realized I’d read the request wrong! I hope you liked it regardless :)

Here’s the list!

(the prompt list)

And here’s the box!

(the ask box)

Please feel free to send a request or feedback :)

#drabbles #queueueueueue #thomas x reader #thomas jefferson x reader #thomas jefferson imagine #thomas jefferson drabble #thomas drabble #hamilton drabble #hamilton x reader #thomas imagine #jefferson imagine #hamilton imagines #hamilton imagined #hamilton imagines blog #hamilton imagine blog

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abnahaya · 7 years

Text

How was your heartbreak?

Heartbreaks are always interesting story to tell, not because bad incidents are more attractive, but for many perspective they can be seen yet still interesting. Most people see heartbreaks as an end, but they also can be brand new beginnings too. Heartbreaks mostly refer us to think of lovers, but they occur between other people and things too. So as thebeginning of the month of love, let’s talk about heartbreaks.

(I think I am too influenced by the heavy rain and the gloomy mood and unable to stop thinking how miserable I will be on the upcoming Valentine day, but please ignore it.)

Frankly, I wanna write about a heartbreak today for some of the people who are close to me went through it recently. not to mention that I too, still recovering from one. So since I have asked about yours before (from the title, yes) therefore I will slightly tell you about mine.

My heartbreak was sophisticated. Literally.

The latest massive heartbreak I had was almost a year ago when I was dumped. yep, you didn’t read it wrong. I had this boyfriend whom I dated for almost two years, and I actually believed him when he said: “It’s not about who is the most perfect, let’s stick around each other no matter what happens and protect what we have. (re: the relationship)” It was one of the most beautiful things someone ever said to me, really, only if he actually meant it -which he did not.

Anyway, I was so in love with him that the breakup -although I knew best that it was the only and best way for me- fucked me up pretty bad. Still-haunted-by-the-same-person-for-a-year bad. No matter how much he hurt me that time, and me being completely aware that it’s so much better for not having him around, I will not lie, my mind flies to his image whenever I hear a love song; if you know what I mean. And there are points when I feel really tired of it, I mean, come on, heart, it’s almost a year and we all know that he never worth it. My friends keep telling me to stop thinking of him and stuffs, but seriously, I wish I know how. I too, feel stupid when a hot guy tries to hit on me but I cannot feel anything towards him, not even a glimpse of attraction, but in the contrary I keep on dreaming of the same jerk.

I mean, I know, technically I just have to focus on whatever I’m doing now, building my career and new social life, upgrading myself and shits. And I’m trying to do it now, I work hard and enjoy life on my spare time, what can possibly go wrong? Why have I not in peace? Well, one thing was wrong. I believe in myself too much I forgot that there’s a greater power that I can always rely on.

So one night, I kneeled down and prayed. I asked God, how?

The next day I went to church and got this readings from Rome 12:

Love in Action

9 Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good.10 Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves.11 Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. 12 Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.13 Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality.

14 Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. 15 Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.16 Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position.[c] Do not be conceited.

17 Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone.18 If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.19 Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,”[d] says the Lord. 20 On the contrary:

“If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.”[e]

21 Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

Did you see the italic lines? My tears almost bursted out when the priest actually reading those. Those words penetrates my soul.

Once again, Jesus answered my prayer.

The passage lead me into thinking of how I have been managing my heartbreak for the past year.I was deeply hurt so that I am blinded to other things, I keep playing victim, and therefore I keep being hurt. It’s like I closed the door, but let the windows open.

So how did I manage my heartbreak all this time?

When I am down. I share with people. First mistake, I hardly share with God on the first place. Second, was it really all sharing to lessen the burden? was it not to justify myself and make me feel a bit more at ease, (just a bit, since it will come again) and create the feeling as if I have forgiven him and move on?

Honestly speaking, I haven’t forgiven him. I know I have to and I think I have been trying to, but I have not. Another mistake.

It’s like when someone tells you that they fell from a bicycle. Which one is more effective? Asking how they fell or telling them how to treat the wound (or even better, help them!). And vise versa, I won’t get better from telling everyone how I got heartbreak, no matter how much satisfying it feels.

It is SUPER HARD to restrain myself from not talking about how cruel he was towards me for all this time (I lose myself most of the times, too), like so hard until I need to write it on capslock. But then I realize I just spread hatred, maybe now too what is left inside of me for him is not love, it’s just hatred. We all know love and hatred are thinly separated, anyway. But hey, it’s been a year and talking about how shitty my ex bf is proven as ineffective alternative.

I prayed for him, many times, but did I really mean it? How can a real prayer come out from a heart full of hatred? I really don’t have the answer for that.

In case you can not grasp what I’m implying, to put it simple: to overcome a heartbreak, you need to LOVE MORE. Because when you love like Jesus does, there will be only goodness, as you can read again from the passage. Those are what we do when we love, especially when what we love is something (or someone) evil.

Finally, I understand what the quote was all about.

The first time I know this quote was from another heartbreak of a good friend of mine, when she was betrayed by her 10-yrs relationship-boyfriend yet she couldn’t come to say goodbye. She thought it was the reflection of the quote, when we love someone so much untill it hurts, then we become unable to feel the hurt again and only keep loving. Yeah, I know, stupid, and wrong too! LOL

But I did feel the same way when I thought I could not come to hate my ex. Another mistake to the list. When you love someone or something so much but somehow whatever it does only causes you pain, love more. Why? Love does not hurt. If you really love, only goodness comes out from you, whatever happens, you will be able to smile and say, “I still love you.” If you don’t, you haven’t loved enough.

Need an example? Sure.

I once was told about how afwully annoying I was and got asked, “how can your mom stand with you all along? how can your friends bear to be with you all this time?” Well, they love me. Truly love me. I lied to my mom, I fought with my friends, we’ve been through bad times, but here we are, we keep up with each other.

And again, I feel so blessed to know Jesus as my Savior, for not only He leads us with true example, He literally tell us how, in a very educative way. He does not give a list of Dos&Don’ts but He lists the essence of His teachings, for us to be interpreted an applied according to our situation, problems, and faith. And today, I learnt how to deal with my heartbreak.

If this does not make sense to you, no problem at all. I used to be called ‘too naive’ whenever I try to explain how I wanna be fair or keep on seeing the positivity out of the bad people/things, like “you need to see how cruel the world can be and it does not work by kindness at all.” I might not know the world as much as you do, but I know everyone in the world needs kindness, and love. I know it sounds lame and not cool, but hey, it works for me, so why don’t you try it too?

So how was your heartbreak? Because mine is just hard enough to push me loving more. I hope I don’t annoy you with this post, tho, lol. Keep on loving! Cheers!

#love #heartbreak #sharing #diary #life lessons #christianity #bananayue

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hadesburns · 3 years

Text

prayers to the god of death

kyuhyun is ten years old by the time the sky falls, but by then, he can only mainly remember two things about his mother before the madness claims her, drags her from her bed down into the dredges of hell— the same hell he’d be forced to deal with for yet another six years, his emancipation from her custody never seeming to come soon enough.

the first is the way she draws in on her cigarettes, the windows around their small, messy apartment locked up tightly, the toxins and fog shifting through the air like a watercolor image, the smoke painting itself across his lungs, despite having never tasted the stuff on his own tongue. her face is rarely ever that calm without her addiction, so he doesn’t fight it, going to bed and waking up to the same inhale, exhale; the stick burning at the helm of her teeth, burning at edges of their lives, burning just a fraction too long. he remembers wondering what it would be like to be as loved as a pack of cigarettes, to be held that close, to be guarded that carefully.

when he’s eleven, he tries it out himself and realizes every breath is a prayer to the god of death, and thinks he understands her a bit better now. he thinks he likes this a bit better now.

the second thing is the way her voice rumbles through her chest, low and gravelly, too many days spent dyeing her insides black, too many sleepless nights staring out at the haze of their living room, as she watches him and tells him that his father had been the devil himself. she says it casually, as though the words are simple, explanatory, obvious, as though they aren’t meant to shock or scare or traumatize the prepubescent boy.

“i thought father died in a car crash?” he asks, tone unsteady, eyes shaky, hands busy putting dishes away because she just can’t be bothered with it. “on the day i was born?” he knows this, she’s told him before when she’s had too much to drink, and he’s confirmed it with his own research of that night; the thunderstorm strong enough to block all vision through the windshield, oncoming traffic, tight roads, and even tighter turns.

“yes…” she murmurs and then leans forwards as though sharing a dark secret. “the ground swallowed him up, gulped him down, back to where he came from.”

this is a story he believes in for years actually, until later when a doctor sits down with him and explains what schizophrenia means, how it affects people, how it affects his mother. tiny, ten-year-old kyuhyun with bottles of pills larger than his own palms, responsibilities marking his shoulders like a tapestry, names for prescriptions he forces himself to learn, forces himself to memorize. they all tell him he’s a smart kid, and even though he can’t afford any sort of good schooling, he proves them right anyway.

and for a while, he thinks he’s doing a good job of it ( meals and medications and routines, no after-school studies, no clubs, hardly any friends ) until he gets a little older, starts growing into himself a little more. the first time she looks at him and tells him he’s starting to resemble his father, he knows his days with her are numbered, knows the memories will begin taking over their relationship, knows there’s very little he can do to stop it, to help her. the drugs keep her on edge, but the insanity still tears at her seams, and it’s like watching the only person you love in the whole world disintegrate slowly right in front of your eyes.

suspicions are confirmed when she changes the locks and he can’t get inside, has to ask the landlord to let him in. she stops answering him, stops recognizing him, stops trusting him. by fifteen, he is too much of a hurricane for her, the condemnation in her gaze too much for him to bare, so he leaves, he lets her go, drips himself out of her life like poison, carefully, painstakingly. he makes a deal with the hospital to have a nurse come by regularly, to make sure she’s keeping up on her health, to help her now that he can’t.

at sixteen, he cashes in the money he’s managed to save up, hours and hours working part-time jobs, scrounging and haggling and hoping, to get himself an apartment, to get himself a life. he’s quick to do it too, burying himself in the hobbies he’s always loved, cooking and music and writing. falling into the music scene gets him into concerts and clubs, his own determination and assertive personality catching some attention there; kyuhyun is someone who figures out what he wants and dives towards it, little to no room for doubts or second-guesses.

and what he wants, is to be on that stage.

with more time on his hands than he’s ever had before, he works on his writing, on his presence, on the music he adores so passionately, a new flame kindling at the center of his chest like bonfire, the reverberation reminiscent of thunderbolts striking with each new idea. he steps like lightning to grasp his goals, dark eyes sharp on the prize, and even though his first time being on stage— the underground rap scene spread out before him like a yellow-bricked path, leading to the future— doesn’t go as perfectly as all his dreams predict, it goes well enough that he wants to try again. and again and again.

and he does. slowly but surely, he builds up an audience, builds up his own preferences, his own music style, his own writing style, makes connections, makes friends, makes a stage name. he’s nineteen by the time BCE contacts him, and he thinks it’s his big break, he thinks it’ll be great, unimaginable, transcendent, every beat of his heart pounding blood through him in tsunami waves, eager and excited. but getting in turns out to be the easier part; staying in is harder.

they tell him everything he’s doing wrong, every way he’s too slow, too clumsy, too stiff. staying in requires him to work with people who don’t like him, who don’t know him, who don’t think he’ll last past the end of next week. staying in requires him to watch and match up with people who have danced their whole lives, people who have sang since they were still in diapers, who carry steel-plated feet and iron-clad hearts, sly eyes and silver tongues.

here, he is nothing but a boy with a murky past and a murkier future, haunted by cigarette smoke and a lineage of evil, psychosis snapping at his heels, but he has his name and his thunderstorms, strong fists and a resolve more powerful than theirs is to break him. long nights spent in a studio, practicing form and dance, practicing notes and tones, practicing rhythms and instruments, the force that drives him propelling him forward, always onward. the sweat on his brow becomes a badge of honor, the bruises and scrapes honing him into a clearer image of himself.

at twenty-one years old, kyuhyun snatches a debut spot, not necessarily into the position he’d wanted ( “what do you mean i’m not the main rapper?” ), but definitely the one he’s always had; responsibility. they lecture him about image and leadership, about how his fellow members in the band named “KNIGHT” are now somewhat his liability. and, as with everything in his life up to this point, he takes that role seriously and with fervor.

five years pass with knight taking a lot of heat, both good and bad, and him collecting up the pieces and blame as best he can, failing and succeeding in various amounts. along with all-time highs come the incomprehensible lows, and somewhere on down the line, kyuhyun is losing his faith. he wants to believe they can stick together against all odds, but as members fall and fade into hiatuses and scandals, he understands he can’t fix everything.

still though, anyone looking for him can find him easily enough, mirroring the woman who’d nailed his heart to a wall and taught him everything he could ever want to know about self-destruction; a cigarette burning between his fingers, the light of the devil carved into his eyes, drowning himself in music his company will probably never let him produce.

he does it anyway. misery tears at the fringes of him, threatening to unravel him, threatening to silence the storm of him, but he does it anyway, even as every inhale is a prayer to the god of death, and every exhale entombs him further into the fog.

#kyuhyun | each cigarette smoked is a prayer to the god of death #bio | you keep what you kill

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thisdaynews · 5 years

Text

Impeachment takeaways: Where we stand and what comes next

New Post has been published on https://thebiafrastar.com/impeachment-takeaways-where-we-stand-and-what-comes-next/

Impeachment takeaways: Where we stand and what comes next

Are you surprised it’s gotten this far?

Natasha Bertrand, national security correspondent:It was only a matter of time before we got here—the number of Democrats calling for an impeachment inquiry was steadily rising, and Trump’s call with the president of Ukraine was just the tipping point — and the smoking gun — they needed to move forward. The fact that the White House released a record of the call only appears to have helped the Democrats make their case, contrary to what Trump seemed to hope it would do: reassure everyone that the call was “perfect” and “legal.”

Kyle Cheney, Congress reporter:I’ll take the easy way out: yes and no. Hollywood would reject the script for this scenario as too far-fetched, so there’s no way anyone could have predicted that Trump would lean on Ukraine for assistance in taking down a political rival — a day after special counsel Robert Mueller testified about the perils of election interference by foreign powers. But there’s also no way any honest observer of Washington couldn’t envision Trump finding a way to self-sabotage so theatrically that he’d be embroiled in an impeachment process for something entirely unforeseeable a few weeks ago.

Andrew Desiderio, Congress reporter:Pro-impeachment lawmakers have told us for months that Trump would eventually “self-impeach” as he seeks revenge against his political enemies for their pursuit of the Mueller investigation. And Speaker Nancy Pelosi’s formal embrace of impeachment proceedings was a vindication of sorts for them. But if you had told me two weeks ago that the number of House members supporting an impeachment inquiry would balloon as much as it has, I would’ve said you were crazy. The impeachment effort was practically on life support as Democrats largely failed to sustain momentum from the Mueller report. Only a totally separate, unrelated scandal could ignite the impeachment fervor to the point of no return, I told myself. And here we are.

Josh Gerstein, legal affairs contributor:I’m not terribly surprised because Trump never seems to have viewed any of the actions that led to the Mueller probe — either the original pussyfooting with Russia during the 2016 campaign nor the episodes of potential obstruction of justice that follow — as any sort of cautionary tale or even a line to steer clear of. It seems like all those times people asked him if he’d accept help from a foreign government and he refused to rule it out, we were supposed to take him both literally and seriously. And that’s why we’re here.

Darren Samuelsohn, White House reporter:Not really. I wrotea story in April 2016– before Trump was even the nominee – that surveyed this very scenario with the use of my very own flux capacitor. Then, once the Democrats won control of the House in 2018 this seemed to be the logical outcome of the aggressive oversight that Nancy Pelosi & Co. had promised would happen. While we didn’t know when Robert Mueller’s probe would be finished, or what it would say, many of the details were out there that Trump was in trouble for obstruction of justice. I will admit though that I didn’t anticipate the Ukraine curveball.

Let’s talk logistics: How many articles of impeachment do you think the House will write? And how long will impeachment proceedings last?

Natasha Bertrand:I’ll leave this to my colleagues who spend all day reporting on the Hill, but my sense is that while Pelosi would prefer impeachment articles to be short and easy for the public to understand, presenting a consistent pattern of misconduct by the president may be more effective — and more convincing in the annals of history.

Kyle Cheney:The best information we hear from sources is two articles. One would focus on the whistleblower complaint and Trump’s efforts to solicit foreign aid in the 2020 election. The other would be an all-encompassing “obstruction of Congress” article in which the myriad Trump investigations led by six House committees could present their best evidence that Trump stonewalled them with unprecedented intensity. The Judiciary Committee has been blocked by the White House from interviewing Mueller’s central witnesses; the Oversight Committee faced roadblocks to investigating Trump’s handling of the U.S. Census; the Ways and Means Committees is fighting in court for Trump’s tax returns; and several other investigations have been ground to a halt by Trump’s resistance.

Andrew Desiderio:Some House Democrats would like to see dozens of articles of impeachment against the president — ones that cover everything from Ukraine to Mueller to emoluments and everything in between. But as Kyle said, and aswe reported on Friday, Democrats are likely to pursue only those two. It really comes down to whether the House intelligence committee can get its hands on the intelligence inspector general’s report, which presumably includes information that corroborates the whistleblower complaint. If they don’t get the report, it could take longer for the committee to interview witnesses and request documents that it doesn’t already have. The second factor is, of course, the political calendar. Most Democrats acknowledge that it wouldn’t be prudent to be conducting an impeachment proceeding well into 2020.

Josh Gerstein:Before the Ukraine news broke, many Democrats felt obligated to press forward with an impeachment inquiry and some sort of vote on the allegations Mueller investigated. For that reason, I think the articles the House ultimately votes on will have to encompass more than just Ukraine. I’d be surprised if the more liberal members are willing to leave it at just Ukraine and obstruction of Congress and ignore things like Trump’s alleged effort to get White House Counsel Don McGahn to lie about attempts to fire Mueller, but perhaps they could argue they couldn’t clearly establish the facts because of Trump’s stonewalling.

Darren Samuelsohn:I can see why Democrats would want to keep this short and sweet, focused on one issue like the Ukraine and leave behind topics like Mueller and Trump’s business dealings. Then they can get back to their 2020 nomination fight and let Trump be Trump, potentially injecting more impeachment fodder into the mix that they can always come back to later on if things get out of hand or in a second term.

What are the biggest unknowns — and what do you want to know?

Natasha Bertrand:Has Trump similarly pressured other foreign leaders for political favors? Consistent with the whistleblower’s complaint, our reporting indicates that the transcript of the Ukraine call is not the only one the White House “locked down” in NSC’s codeword system. Additionally, we now know certain State Department officials, including special envoy Kurt Volker and U.S. ambassador to the E.U. Gordon Sondland, were involved in facilitating this backchannel—how much did Secretary of State Mike Pompeo know, and did he sign off on it?

Kyle Cheney:What did Trump say to Russian President Vladimir Putin in a phone call a week after he spoke to Ukrainian President Volodomyr Zelensky? The Kremlin revealed only that the two discussed wildfires in Siberia, but the call came just as Trump had withheld military aid from Ukraine and pressed Zelensky to investigate Biden. Soon after the call, Trump began advocating for Russia to rejoin the G7.

Andrew Desiderio:The biggest unknowns at this point center around the corroborating documents and witness testimony that led the intelligence community’s inspector general to conclude that the whistleblower complaint was urgent and credible. The complaint mentions how White House officials were “deeply disturbed” by Trump’s conduct, and that others sought to “lock down” information about the president’s interactions with Zelensky. Democrats will seek to interview those individuals, if they didn’t already speak to the inspector general, to learn more about the president’s push to pressure Zelensky to investigate Biden. Additionally, it remains an open question whether Trump froze military aid to Ukraine in order to gain leverage over Zelensky. As of now, there is smoke, but no fire.

Josh Gerstein:I’d like to know more about how other top U.S. government officials responded to Trump’s effort to pressure Ukraine to investigate Biden. The decision to withhold aid to Ukraine clearly triggered debate and concern within the administration. The July conversation with Zelensky even more so. There are already hints that officials at the U.S. Embassy in Kyiv were drawn into the effort, along with figures like the U.S. Special Envoy to Ukraine, Kurt Volker,who resigned Friday. On the flipside, the whistleblower complaint says some officials raised concerns about the Trump strategy made plain in the call. Who voiced those worries? Where were the complaints directed? Did no one take any action other than the whistleblower?

Darren Samuelsohn:It’ll be interesting to see what Democrats extract from the Trump administration about the role of the president’s aides and advisers. This investigation has the potential tosnare any number of top peoplefrom the administration, including Vice President Mike Pence, Attorney General Bill Barr and Rudy Giuliani. Each one is likely to face subpoenas to testify, and each is likely given the president’s past rules of engagement to put up a fight. That could mean a digression into the courts, which I don’t think the Democrats want given they’re already fighting for the Mueller grand jury materials and Don McGahn’s testimony in that very same venue. But if they do force it and win, then things could get really interesting and put to the test just how loyal these aides are to Trump.

The adage is that impeachment is all about politics. Politically, who is most at risk here?

Natasha Bertrand:One big risk is that Democrats don’t make a convincing case to the American people, simply by being unorganized and appearing weak in the face of an administration that, to date, has been consistently willing to ignore Congressional requests and demands. Nancy Pelosi admonished House Judiciary Democrats, for example, for not holding Trump pal Cory Lewandowski in contempt “right then and there” for his combative performance in an open hearing earlier this month. Critics have also questioned why the Democrats aren’t doing more to try to enforce subpoenas to hostile witnesses, like using their power of inherent contempt.

Kyle Cheney:The conventional wisdom says Democrats could be punished for overreaching — but conventional wisdom is almost certainly wrong. The mix of an impeachment process with an election year has never occurred in American politics, so its effects are virtually unknowable. Trump is historically unpopular but voters have also been slow to warm to calls for impeachment. In a Washington news cycle in which one week’s controversies are the next week’s ancient history, there’s not even a guarantee that voters would be thinking much about impeachment by the time they pull the lever — either in the primary or the general.

Andrew Desiderio:I’m going to echo Kyle with an addendum: Conventional wisdom is almost certainly wrong in the era of Donald Trump. Early on, many Democrats had resisted impeachment because they thought it was bad politics, especially because of unlikely action in the Senate and the divisive nature of the process itself — not to mention, Trump using it as a foil as he campaigns for re-election. But the Ukraine scandal has changed everything about the political calculations. Yes, Pelosi is taking a risk by embracing impeachment proceedings. But she also seems to firmly believe that these allegations — that the president sought to extort a foreign leader to interfere in the 2020 election on his behalf — are so beyond the pale that public support for impeachment will only rise.

Josh Gerstein:Having cut my teeth on the Clinton impeachment, I think there is a key lesson to be learned: The Clinton White House saw the key to staying in good graces with voters was to look like you’re doing your day job. You can get away with a lot if it looks like you’re on the ball. This is really the political challenge for the Democrats: pushing impeachment without allowing it to be all consuming. One particular problem is that impeachment is such a riveting prospect for journalists that we’ll make a huge deal of that and may ratchet back coverage of other things, like policy proposals from Democratic presidential candidates. Perhaps it’s actually a good thing for the Dems that McConnell is almost certain to smother whatever articles of impeachment reach him, allowing the Dems to say they did their duty but not linger on the topic too long into 2020.

Darren Samuelsohn:I don’t buy into impeachment being a weight on the impeaching party in the next election. The evidence I keep hearing cited is 1998, when Newt Gingrich’s Republicans lost seats they hoped to win while preparing to take down Bill Clinton. But that was a midterm election, not a presidential campaign. Plus, George W. Bush won two years later not just because of hanging chads and Al Gore’s stiffness. He promised to “restore honor and dignity” to the White House. So, he made the issues around Clinton’s behavior leading up to his impeachment into a winner. Last thing I’ll say on 1998: It was more than 20 years ago. A lifetime ago in politics, and totally different era before Trump broke all the rules and when twitter was just a funny word.

Impeachment doesn’t happen around here very often. What are you doing to get ready for all this?

Natasha Bertrand:Re-listening to Slate’s Slow Burn podcasts and preparing for the president to become more combative than we’ve ever seen him. An impeachment inquiry, combined with an election year, mixed in with Trump again encouraging foreign election interference? Things are going to get very ugly.

Kyle Cheney:Reading the unsexiest texts possible: Congressional Research Service reports about impeachment process and precedents. There’s no true guide to impeachment because each one in American history has been wildly different and arisen amid different circumstances and political climates. But knowing what levers lawmakers have to pull and what processes have guided these rare events in the past will the best harbinger of what’s to come.

Andrew Desiderio:For those of us who spend our working days on Capitol Hill talking to lawmakers and aides for hours on end, this is the type of story that we live for. But it’s also a trying time for the country. I don’t think anyone — no matter one’s political affiliation — is truly happy about what we are about to embark on. It’s important for all of us to put that into perspective.

Josh Gerstein:I’m having four gold stripes sewn onto each sleeve of my best suit. On a more serious note, I’m trying to figure out whether there are any hints in the history of impeachment that could allow troublemakers to try to force a trial of Trump in the Senate, perhaps through court action. Seems like someone will try, even if it’s a longshot.

Darren Samuelsohn:I’ve been nerding out on impeachment for a while and would recommend several things. Bob Woodward’s “Shadow” is a great read on presidential scandal and covers all the Clinton stuff well. If you want to learn about the Senate trials of Andrew Johnson and Samuel Chase, the George Washington-appointed Supreme Court justice who was the second Judge to ever be impeached by the House, go find an old musty copy of “Grand Inquests” by William Rehnquist. He published it seven years before he’d end up presiding over the Clinton impeachment trial. And don’t forget the Hillary Clinton zombie memo — definitely worth a click to see why this nearly 50-year old Watergate report written by a team that included the future first lady still matters.

#comes #Foreign #Politics #stand

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shannaraisles · 7 years

Text

Set In Darkness

Chapter: 9 Author name: ShannaraIsles Rating: M (for language) Warnings: None Summary: She’s a Modern Girl in Thedas, but it isn’t what she wanted. There’s a scary dose of reality as soon as she arrives. It isn’t her story. People get hurt here; people die here, and there’s no option to reload if you make a bad decision. So what’s stopping her from plunging head first into the Void at the drop of a hat?

Healer’s Hands

"You don't have to do this, Rory. Not tonight."

She sighed, shaking out the drying cloth in her hands pointedly, her eyes fixed on a fascinating bit of wall to her right. "So you keep saying," she said in a wry tone. "Yesterday, in fact. Oh, and the day before. And today, you've been avoiding me."

Cullen rolled his eyes, stepping up out of the bath. "I have not been avoiding you," he informed her, taking the cloth from her hands to wrap it about his waist.

"Really?" she asked knowingly. "So why did it take following you to the baths in the middle of the night to even find out if that potion is working for you?"

"I don't know whether to be disturbed or flattered that you tracked me through Haven on a moonless night, just to give me a massage," he commented, avoiding the question like a pro.

"I wouldn't have had to if you'd just let me do it in your tent two nights ago," Rory pointed out, crossing her arms over her chest. She was still addressing the wall, hoping he mistook her blush for the heat in the bath house. "Now we either do it here, or I walk you back to your tent and do it there. Either way, you're getting a massage tonight."

She could feel him staring at her, weighing up her intent, not daring to look around and meet that gaze. That cloth at his waist would not be modest at all now it was wet, and she didn't think he'd take her seriously if she was talking to his crotch. Oh yeah, talking to the wall is a much better impression to be making.

Cullen sighed heavily. "You are the stubbornest woman I have ever met,"

"So're you," she retorted, listening as he stepped into the dressing chamber. "So that's a yes, is it?"

"It's a reluctant concession from one stubborn woman to another," he called out to her.

Rory felt her jaw twitch. Trust him to take me literally just to see if he can get a rise out of me. "So put away your man-boobs and decide where you want to be massaged," she countered, instantly regretting her choice of words. "In what location do you - no, that's worse." She grimaced at her own clumsiness with words. "In here or in your tent? And shut up."

She heard him chuckle, the sound setting off a happy little glow inside despite her mild irritation. "I said nothing," he protested in amusement.

"I know you said nothing," she replied. "I could feel you maliciously saying nothing with every word I said."

"That makes no sense, Rory," he informed her, sounding a little muffled.

"You have a very piercing stare," she offered by way of clarification. "I always know when you're waiting for me to blush."

"And you have a beautiful bottom, but you don't hear me accusing you of maliciously wiggling it at me."

Rory's hands flew to cover her backside, relieved to discover that she was still clothed. Clothes only miraculously disappear around him in daydreams, you daft sod. Still, it was embarrassing to realize that he'd noticed her rear end, though it could only have been in the last couple of days. The morning after her close shave in the woods, she'd gone to the forge and bought a sizeable amount of butter-soft ram-hide from Harritt, then politely asked one of the women who was good with a needle to make up a couple of pairs of pants for her. The resulting articles were warm, sturdy, and form-fitting, and she felt a lot more secure in them. Her next purchase was going to have to be a longer jacket, though, it seemed.

As Cullen's chuckle reached her ears, she growled under her breath, letting her hands fall away. "Are you drunk?" she accused mildly.

"Just exhausted," he answered, and the laughter was gone from his voice. "Forgive me, I shouldn't have ... after what happened with the Orlesian ..." He sighed, sounding closer than before. "It was inappropriate of me to say such a thing."

"Cullen, I'm not a china doll," she said in frustration, though barely any of that was because of him. Everyone in Haven seemed to be on eggshells around her, and it was driving her insane. "I've been coddled and mothered and generally treated as though the wrong word will break me, and it won't." She turned, glad to find him fully dressed once again. "What happened was my own fault. I decided to go out alone, even after Rylen warned me it might not be safe."

His eyes blazed suddenly. "Never say that again," he told her sternly, staring into her eyes with an intensity that would have frightened her from anyone else. "What that ... what he did was not your fault. Men like that are the dregs of the world, no better than maleficar or darkspawn. His actions do not reflect on you. And I will not have you thinking otherwise. Do you understand?"

Gobsmacked by the fervor in his words, Rory could only nod mutely. For once, the inner fangirl was silent, awed into speechless gawping by this very real evidence that he seemed to genuinely care ... for her well-being, at least. She felt her breath catch in her throat as his bare hand touched the aching bruise on her throat, reaching higher for callused fingers and palm to cradle her jaw almost tenderly.

"If that man had not already met the Maker, I would have killed him myself," he went on, his voice intimately low between them. "You are mine."

Oh, my giddy aunt ... A glowing pool of pure, unadulterated desire ignited deep in her belly, throbbing with each beat of a heart that was suddenly far too loud. "Yours?" she breathed, not quite able to summon her voice.

She must have looked confused or alarmed. Whatever the reason, Cullen seemed to abruptly realize he was wavering on the edge of a clearly defined line. "One of my people," he clarified, drawing his hand back from her burning cheek. "My responsibility. I look after my own."

Ah, disappointment, thou art a feisty bitch. "Yes, you do," Rory assured him, glancing down at his hand, which still sported bruised knuckles from a punch made in her defense. "I - we - appreciate how much you care for us."

The corner of his mouth twitched, hinting toward another of those unseen smiles. His hand rose, rubbing at his neck in a manner that was wonderfully familiar, and Rory felt some of her disappointment lift on seeing it. My gods ... he really does like me. But what about Evelyn Trevelyan, or that trigger-happy elven mage? He might like them more, if he gets the chance. She gave herself a mental shake.

"I ... take it we're going to your tent, then?" she asked, dragging herself back to the reason she'd ambushed him in the bath in the first place. "I'd offer the clinic, but Fabian's taken to sleeping there with me."

Cullen looked almost relieved by her topic change. "He wants to protect you," he commented, gesturing for her to move past him to the door. "That, I can understand. And yes, my tent."

"What do you mean, you can understand?" Rory glanced at him curiously, lifting her cloak off a hook to pull it around her shoulders as they stepped out into the cold night. "I don't need protecting."

"Yes, you do," Cullen argued quietly as they fell into step together. "I am at a loss to explain how a woman so well-traveled knows nothing of personal defense."

And the convenient lie come back to bite me in the arse. A arse he apparently thinks is beautiful, but that's beside the point. "I've never needed to learn," she told him, which was true, in a way. "No one's ever threatened me enough that I've needed to fight them."

"Which makes our failure in security even worse," he grimaced. "Surrounded by soldiers, you should have been safe."

"No, all it means is that I've been extraordinarily lucky," she affirmed a long-held belief out loud, and that wasn't a lie, either. "I think the fact that I made it to twenty-six without my luck running out is quite impressive, actually."

"You might almost call it miraculous," he agreed, the hint of a smile once again in his voice.

"I don't attract trouble," she protested laughingly.

"Perhaps not, but I have seen you trip over something that wasn't there more than once," he reminded her, nodding to the guard on the gate as they passed through.

"Clumsiness is not a crime," she defended herself mortified that he could say he'd seen it happen multiple times.

"The way you cackle with laughter whenever you fall over could be considered criminal, if it wasn't so charming." He came to a halt, opening the ties on his tent flaps as she waited.

"I do not cackle," Rory insisted adamantly, only to be undermined by a disembodied voice from the next tent over.

"You do cackle. Like a wee nug being tickled."

"Shut up, Rylen."

She rolled her eyes at the sleepy laugh that answered her, ducking into Cullen's tent as she felt her cheeks burning. What was her Starkhaven friend going to think of her being in the commander's tent after midnight?

She was surprised to note how warm it was inside the canvas structure, though it was hardly spacious. Just room enough for a small brazier, two chests, a crate for a desk, and a bedroll, all illuminated by a dim lantern hanging from the crossbar. In this enclosed space, Cullen seemed too big, too close, too handsome. Too tempting. But she was here for a reason, she had to remember that.

"How do you want to do this?" he asked in a gentle tone, as though aware of how too he was in here.

"Where are you tense?" she answered him, needing to know that before she could go much further.

"My neck," was his somewhat predictable reply. "My shoulders."

As much as she would have liked to hear "everywhere", it was something of a relief to have him pinpoint the place that needed to be manipulated. All over would have taken most of the rest of the night, for a start. And just his neck and shoulders helped her avoid the highly titillating experience of a totally naked Cullen under her hands.

"Then we can do this with you seated, or lying down, whichever you'd prefer," she said with a nod, raising her hands to undo her cloak. "This is all about you."

His expression flickered for just a moment, a shadow implying unkind inner thoughts darkening his eyes for a split second. Then he turned away with a short nod, bending to unlace his boots. "It will be more comfortable for you if I am lying down."

It was awkward with both of them trying to prepare in such a small space. When Rory bent to remove her own boots, she was virtually eye to eye with his groin, noting - with pride in herself for seeming detached - that Commander Cullen was a leftie. When he stretched up to remove his shirt, she realized that he was easily a foot taller than her, her gaze focusing on the divot of his clavicle right at her eye-line. His arms came down on either side of her, his eyes finding hers in the dim light, and for just a breath, she was sure they were wavering on that line again. Then he stepped back, ducking to avoiding the lantern, and lowered himself to the bedroll, arms flat at his sides as he stretched onto his stomach.

"You've done this before, haven't you?" she accused him lightly, her voice hushed to avoid disturbing the others in the tents all around.

"Once or twice," he confessed with the same humor, his volume matching hers for the same reason. "After injury, to rehabilitate my muscles. Never ... never like this."

"You have to tell me if you feel pain, all right?" she warned then, inching closer on her knees. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I will," he promised softly, watching as she pulled a small bottle of unfragranced oil from one of the many pouches on her belt. "I trust you."

"I should hope so," she agreed, considering her options. Quite apart from the sheer magnificence of his naked back, he was broad ... too broad for her to comfortably do this from either side. "I, uh ... I need to ... straddle you," she confessed awkwardly. "Is ... is that all right? I'll try not to actually sit on you."

Cullen let out a soft snort of laughter, waving his fingers at her. "It's fine," he assured her in a confident tone. "I doubt you weigh much more than my sister."

She blinked, wondering which sister he meant. Something else she wasn't supposed to know. "I'll take that as a compliment," she decided, lifting onto her hands and feet to swing a leg over the narrower span of his waist and hips.

"It's intended as one," he promised, tensing only a little as her knees came to rest between his arms and ribs. But he somehow managed to banish that new tension as she settled with her backside brushing his. "Rosalie is tiny."

"Oh, well, thank you," Rory chuckled softly, pouring oil onto her hands to warm it. "Now shush and let me relax you."

"You're like Mia when you're bossy, though," he added, closing his eyes as her hands began to stroke over the broad expanse of his shoulders.

A slow tremor leeched through him at the gentle passage of her hands. How long had it been since he'd let anyone touch him, she wondered, admiring the golden gleam of taut skin over toned muscle in the dim candlelight. Long enough that he sighed with what might almost have been gratitude when her hands did not immediately pull away. In fact, now she was touching him, Rory wasn't sure she was going to be able to stop. His skin was smooth beneath her palms, hot and firm, yielding to the slow pressure she eased into him with only the barest resistance. He groaned, the sound laced with relief and pleasure, and she felt herself grow hot as that sound struck straight to her core.

Was that the sound he would make if she touched him somewhere else, she wondered shamefully, knowing she shouldn't be thinking such a thing when he was under her care. Here and now, in this moment, he was vulnerable, beautiful in the trust he had given her to see him so disarmed. She had never felt so privileged, so touched, to be allowed to treat someone, yet her traitorous thoughts would not stop. Would he sigh like that if she kissed the little scar between his shoulder-blades? Would she hear that moan against her ear as he moved inside her? She should not be imagining it, taking advantage of him in her mind's eye. But the thoughts were there, unbidden, impossible to ignore.

He really was an Adonis, glistening beneath her hands as she worked the tension from his muscles, a god among men. But it wasn't his physical beauty that made him so; at least, not solely. This was a good man, a kind man, so troubled by his past mistakes that he was prepared to endure terrible torment to separate himself from the man he had been then. How many people even had that kind of honor, let alone were ready to exercise it? Yes, he had his faults - a learned hatred of magic and mages, a temper that flared a little too easily, a casual indifference to keeping his family in the loop - but who didn't? To have come so far after enduring so much and still be gentle at heart ... that was what made him beautiful in her eyes. The woman he chose would be lucky indeed, and she had better recognize it, or Rory would break her perfect nose for her.

As he relaxed under her palms, she listened to his breathing growing slow and steady, no longer laced with moans but with the comfortable sigh of deep, dreamless sleep. Mission accomplished. With careful motion, she lifted herself from his back, reaching to tuck the blankets warm about his shoulders. Wiping her hands clean, she pulled on her cloak and boots, hesitating as temptation reared its head. Where's the harm? He'll never know.

Slowly, gently, she leaned down, brushing the ghost of a kiss to the upturned corner of his mouth, over the scar that had haunted her dreams a few too many times. His lips puckered, as though answering her kiss in his sleep, making her smile as she stroked her fingers through his tousled hair. "Sleep sweet, sweetheart," she whispered softly, slipping from his side to let him slumber in peace.

Oh, yes. Mission definitely accomplished.

#set in darkness #multi-chapter fic #cullen rutherford/original female character #cullen rutherford/rory allen #rory allen #cullen rutherford #massage #touching the cullen #flirting #teasing #fluff #a kiss! sort of

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pan-matsuri · 7 years

Text

Questions

Borrowed from this post. 1: Let’s start with a tricky one; what is the real reason you are confused right now? I have immense anxiety regarding my current work situation, knowing that I leave my heart at home every morning to go to a job that I have no interest in doing and mentally exhausts me with stress, but at the same time possessing a fear that I’m not actually qualified for any other jobs and a similar fear that switching jobs will result in a reduced paycheck and further deferral of going to grad school. This couples on top of an anxiety that working these sort of jobs any longer will dull my mind and that I often fear that I’m not actually smart enough to go to graduate school and be a teacher like I dream of. And on top of all of that, I fear that my general lack of energy will prevent me from being able to pursue my creative dreams, such as writing a story. I also one day dream of pursuing romantic subplots but I just have a whole mess of anxiety and fear that my reclusive nature brought upon by general and acute work-related stress prevents me from even knowing where to begin to meet new people and commit to the energy needed to make a relationship work. This all ties in to a fear that I’ve constructed in my mind the idea of a perfect life that I’ll never be able to replicate fully. The executive summary is that I constantly struggle with my risk-averse nature, knowing full well what I want to do and how to achieve it, but being too chickenshit to actually do anything about it. We’re off to a good start, I think. 2: Do you ever get “good morning” texts from anyone? No I hate mornings. 3: If your significant other smoked pot, would you care? Yes I think so. I have asthma so the smoke would be a problem, plus it would be a hobby that we wouldn’t be able to share. 4: Do you find it easy to trust others? No. 5: What were you doing at 11PM last night? Playing video games. 6: You’re drunk and lost walking down the road; who is with you? I don’t drink, and I try to make sure I know the area before I start wandering by foot. Take that, quizmaster! 7: What would you do if you found out you had been cheated on? It would hurt a lot. 8: Are you close with your dad? Much closer than we were when I lived with my folks. But we have some disagreements. 9: I bet you kissed someone last night, right? You should check your sources. 10: What are you listening to? It’s probably in Japanese and it’s probably an anime theme on repeat. 11: You can only drink ONE liquid for the rest of your life - what is it? MILK. 12: Do you like hickeys? Okay so one time when I was younger, I accidentally gave myself a hickey on my arm because I found out you could leave a mark with suction and I wanted to investigate. I have had fuck-all for Sex Ed or Health education in my life and had never even heard that term before, so when my parents asked why I had a hickey on my arm, I didn’t really know what they were talking about. 13: What time do you go to bed? The wrong time. 14: Is there someone who continuously lets you down? Yes and it is me. 15: Can you text as quickly with one hand as you do both? I would not describe my texting as “quick”. I move the phone towards and away from my face to confirm depth perception, extend my index finger forward, and carefully press the wrong letter on the keyboard. This method allows me to type at the same speed at which I am able to process conversation. 16: Do you always answer your texts? Most of the time, but it takes me a while if I get nervous and overanalyze my response. I also don’t respond if the last text has ended the conversation. 17: Do you hate the person you fell the hardest for? No. 18: When was the last time you talked to one of your best friends? Last night. 19: Is there someone that makes you happy every time you see them? Many people do that. 20: What was your last thought before you went to bed last night? Frequently, I distract myself from falling asleep because I know I will not want to wake up in the morning to start another soulless day on the job. 21: Is anyone else in the room with you? Yes technically. I work in an office. 22: Do you believe what goes around comes around? Boomerangs rely on this principle to function. 23: Were you happier four months ago than you are now? Four months ago was before I got demoted, and it was also before the election, but neither of those things has really changed the world all that much. I’m still just as stressed and the world is just as filled with hate, it’s just that now I don’t have a reason to care about work and the hate is more out in the open now. 24: Is there someone you wish you could fix things with? Not sure I understand. 25: In the past week, have you cried? I cry at every anime. 26: What colour is the shirt you are wearing? I only wear black and gray anymore. 27: Do people ever call you by your last name? No. 28: Is anyone ignoring you right now? Possibly the entire earth’s population but that’s for the best, as I am a piece of work. 29: Do you have a best friend? Yes. 30: Would it be hard seeing someone else kiss the last person you kissed? I’m sure it would be. 31: Who was your last call/text message from? My housemate and best friend Amelia. 32: Are you mad at anyone? Who has the time? 33: Have you ever kissed someone older than you? No. 34: How old will the last person you kissed be on his/her next birthday? The premise of the question is wrong. 35: How many more days until your birthday? I have already been born. Sorry, you probably missed it. 36: Do you have any summer plans yet? I want to, but need to confirm them. 37: Do you have any good friends of the opposite sex? Yes, most of them. 38: Are you keeping anything from your best friend(s) now? Most people keep secrets. 39: Do you have a secret that you’ve never told anyone? Actually now that I think about it, I think every secret that I have has been divulged to at least one person, but never two secrets to the same person. 40: Have you ever regretted kissing someone? Can’t regret something that’s never happened. 41: Do you think age matters in relationships? It can. People of different ages can have wildly different problems. 42: Are you available? Mentally I’ve been checked out for years but I’m trying. 43: How many people have you had real, strong feelings for since high school ended? Upwards of one. 44: If you had to get a piercing (not ears), what would you get? I wouldn’t. 45: Do you believe exes can be friends? Yes, there are many reasons why relationships change. 46: Do you regret anything? I regret lots of things. 47: Honestly, what’s on your mind right now? I don’t think anyone thinks my job is important. I certainly don’t, but I thought at least someone would. 48: Did you ever lose a best friend? Some things are natural. 49: Was your last kiss a mistake? See question 40. 50: Why aren’t you pursuing the person you like? I’m not certain who they are. I have some hunches but I am not sure. If anyone reading this knows the answer, please let me know. 51: Has the last person you kissed ever seen you cry? See question 49. 52: Do you still talk with the person you LAST kissed? See question 51. 53: What was the last thing you ate? Cheerios, dry. 54: Did you get any compliments today? Not yet but I just drew a Pokémon so here’s to hoping. 55: Where are you going on your next vacation? Seattle. 56: Do you own anything from other countries? Yes, most notably I own a wanderlust from Japan. 57: Are most of your friend guys or girls? Many of my friends are women. 58: Where have you lived most of your life? The lower-middle class. 59: When was the last time you took a long drive? I don’t have a valid driver’s license anymore. But I took a trip with my parents to the coast when they were visiting. 60: Have you ever played Spin the Bottle? Not that I recall. 61: Have you ever TPd someone’s house? I am not often filled with such hatred. 62: Who do you text the most? Probably Amelia. I don’t text very frequently. 63: What was the last movie you saw? In theaters, it was Doctor Strange. At home, I believe it was Atlantis: The Lost Empire. 64: What’s preventing your current boyfriend/girlfriend from going back to their ex? I believe it is because they do not exist but you would have to ask them. 65: How many boyfriends/girlfriends did you have in 2011? Zero. 66: Is the last person you kissed younger than you? See question 52. 67: Do you curse around your parents? I do now. 68: Are you happy with where you live? Yes, it’s much better than the last one. 69: Picture of yourself? [link] 70: Are you a monogamous person or do you believe in open-ended relationships? Everyone can do want they want but I would get along best with another monogamous person. 71: Have you ever been dumped? Sure. 72: What do you most like about making out? I don’t. 73: Have you ever casually made out with someone who you weren’t seriously involved with? See question 66. 74: When you kiss someone for the first time, is it usually you who initiates it or the other? See question 73. 75: What part of a person’s body do you find most attractive? I believe it was intended that people would be observed as a whole. 76: Who was the last person you talked to last night before you went to bed? Amelia. 77: Had sex with someone you knew less than an hour? Sex is gross. 78: Had sex with someone you didn’t know their name? See question 77. 79: What makes your heart flutter and brings a big cheesy smile to your face? Anime. 80: Would you get involved with someone if they had a child already? I don’t think we’d be able to pursue the same goals with the same fervor at this time. 81: Has someone who had a crush on you ever confessed to you? Yes. 82: Do you tell a lot of people when you have a crush? Social media has made this default behavior for society, I think. 83: Do you miss your last sweetie? I don’t have one. 84: Last time you slow danced with someone? A wedding. I made two of my friends dance with me because they are important to me and it was important that I took the time to say as much. I’m sure it was awkward. 85: Have you ever ‘dated’ someone you’ve never met? No I don’t think so. 86: How can I win your heart? I need it to live so I’m hesitant to offer it as a reward. But if we’re talking about my affections, I like quietly talking about anime and sharing dreams and going on long walks. 87: What is your astrological sign? Aries. 88: What were you doing last night at 12 AM? Still playing video games. 89: Do you cook? Yes. 90: Have you ever gotten back in touch with an old flame after a time of more than 3 months of no communication? See question 83. 91: If you’re single right now, do you wish you were in a relationship? It would be nice to have the support but I want to make sure that I can give a relationship the full energy it deserves. 92: Do you prefer to date various people or do you pretty much fall into monogamous relationships quickly? I don’t know how to date. 93: What physical traits do you look for in a potential interest? A pulse. 94: Name four things that you wish you had! I’d poll my friends to see if there is anything that they want that would not otherwise be able to achieve without magic. I can think of at least one for sure. I can also think of a number of normally obtainable things that could be expedited with magic. 95: Are you a player? I believe you misspelled “playa”. 96: Have you ever kissed 2 people in one day? See question 74. 97: Are you a tease? Frequently. 98: Ever meet anyone you met on Tumblr? I may not be using Tumblr in the same way as the question suggests it should be. 99: Have you ever been deeply in love with someone? Perhaps. 100: Anybody on Tumblr that you’d go on a date with? There are a lot of people on Tumblr. 101: Hugs or Kisses? Hershey’s Hugs are made with white chocolate and milk chocolate so you get both flavors at once. 102: Are you too shy to ask someone out? This is basically what I am getting at by answering all these questions. 103: The first thing you notice about the opposite sex? They look nice. 104: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you babe? You could theoretically do this for years to cover up that you never learned their name. 105: If a sexy person was pursuing you, but you knew he/she was in relationship, would you go for it? No, I don’t think so. 106: Do you flirt a lot? I thought about trying it at the grocery store once. 107: Your last kiss? See question 96. 108: Have you kissed more than 5 people since the start of 2012? See question 107. 109: Have you kissed anyone in the past month? See question 108. 110: If you could kiss anyone who would it be? Yeah. 111: Do you know who you’ll kiss next? No, but I’m sure some people can answer this. With the right attitude, you can define your own future. 112: Does someone like you currently? This is not a thing that is readily available information to me. 113: Do you currently have feelings for anyone? I might. 114: Do you like to be in serious relationships or just flings? I’d prefer something serious. 115: Ever made out with just a friend? See question 109. 116: Are you happier single or in a relationship? I don’t have enough data to make a judgement. 117: Your own question that you want me to answer. Just write it. I guess maybe I’m not doing this right.

#questions #personal

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