#have fucked up my ability to take anything at face value

[milkiematcha]

600 words of jeno jacking off in a bathroom because you’re hot

lee jeno was going to collapse. not from anything he’d done today- he’d barely done more than lounge around and take a few photos to post- but from the photo, you had decided to send him. a mirror picture, with one of his sweaters riding up around your hips and your legs spread just enough to show the wet spot on your sheer panties, your fingers dragging on the bit he wanted to see the most.

you knew exactly what you were doing, of course. even the way the sleeves pulled over your hands and made you look so tiny on his bed, even the plushies just in frame and the way the phone blocked your face. every little thing was a strategy to make him crazy. and that it did.

when jeno called you he wasn’t expecting to sound so fucking desperate, his voice gravelly and deep as he stepped into the stall, the sound of you picking up immediately hidden my his voice. 

“why would you send me that around the guys”

you giggled. you actually fucking giggled at the question. he would have been seeing red if there was any blood left in his brain to properly think with, but instead, he was painfully hard, already tugging at his belt.

“i thought you’d like it.” you murmur, and he can just hear the teasing lilt to your voice. “don’t i look pretty?”

his breath catches in his throat when he finally manages to jerk his pants down, his hand immediately slipping into his boxers. you giggle again when he gasps, not even knowing it’s from the feeling of his thumb brushing over the head of his cock. “you know how you look.”

“tell me anyway.”

he jerks his boxers off too, pulling his lip between his teeth in an attempt to quiet himself, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of knowing how much you affected him. “i’m going to fucking break you-”

“i’ve got you jerking off in a bathroom like a horny teen. i think we know who broke who.”

if he was in the room with you, you would have never said that. not ever, out of fear for your precious ability to walk the next few days. but with him trapped at work, you were totally in control of everything. 

“you’re going to regret that.” his voice is somehow deeper than before, his hand jerking desperately over his cock, but his voice somehow steadier than before. “you’re going to wish you never opened your mouth.”

“you say that, but here i am, and there you are. don’t say things you can’t back up, nono.” 

his head is tilted back, his hand moving faster as he attempts to think of any response to you. but his head was empty other than thoughts of how badly he wanted to choke you on his cock, making any sort of logical thinking completely useless.

the groan that leaves his lips when he cums is marred by a string of expletives and then followed by raspy breaths. on the other side of the phone, you had gone silent, your breath catching in your throat at just how pretty he sounds. 

he speaks, quietly, maybe a minute later, his voice sharp and harsher than you had heard it since the last time he... the last time you had bothered to act up.

“i’ll be home in 20 minutes.”

your voice is shaking when you respond, barely able to keep up your confident teasing façade. “you sound worked up about some-”

the beep rings out before you even finish talking.

and 15 minutes later, when the key turns in the door, you have half a thought of regret. and then you realize that you really don’t value your ability to walk as much as you thought you did.

#jeno smut #lee jeno smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #i missed writing lol #not proofread

[modelbus]

This might be more on the angst side… oops? Also, this is like 3k words… There are POV switches!! And this was inspired by an ao3 story with a similar premise but that was with Kaz and Wylan so there’s that.

There is alcohol and suggestiveness in this! Be warned, it’s a bit different than my usual!

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x gn!Reader

Flufftober 4 - It’s All An Act (Spies)

"Sorry, what?" You stare at Kaz, and he stares back evenly.

"It's a simple mission. You don't have to do anything."

"Then why do you need me?"

He sighs, gloved hand tightening and loosening on his crow cane. Without a doubt, he was upset at you for not getting it, but forgive you for being a little startled when he asks you to pretend to date him!

"It'll be too suspicious if I show up alone. All I need you for is pretending to date me. But carry some weapons in case things go... awry."

"You want me to go with you to a party, pretend to date you, and... that's it?"

"That's it."

You stare at him for a few more moments, trying to figure out if he had any other angle. Most times, Kaz Brekker kept his crows in the loop. But there were times when he didn't, and you knew him too well to not try and figure out if it was or wasn't.

Although you were the second newest crow (thanks to Wylan for taking the newest title) you and Kaz actually somewhat got along. You’re certain it's because he values you ability to kill without hesitation. That's what you are to him: his assassin. Your role, your one job, was to kill and to kill efficiently. 

He didn't question why you were able to kill so easy, and you didn't question his aversion to touch and water. You got along, and things were fine.

Or, they were, until you had to go and start noticing stupid things about him. Like the way he looked mid-fight, slamming his cane into someone. Or the way his lips would barely twitch when one of them said something particularly funny. It took you a bit to realize, but when you did you knew you were royally fucked.

Because, of course, you started to develop feelings for Kaz Brekker. Feelings that, as long as you were sane, would stay quite hidden. Which only made this whole job harder.

He wanted you to pretend to date him. It might just be the hardest thing he's asked of you yet, and he doesn't even know it.

"Take the job. Wish I could go to a party." Jesper grumbles, and you glance at the sharp shooter sitting next to you.

"Unfortunately, no one in their sound mind would believe we were dating." Kaz says cooly. "That, and everyone knows your face around here."

You grimace. Your own insurance, coming to bite you in the ass. Most people only saw you face before you killed them. It was easier to sneak around in plain sight that way. Obviously the crows were the exceptions, and maybe a few others out there.

"You're sure nobody else wants to do this?" You try.

"Wylan and Jesper are far too in love for me to take Wylan, Inej is out hunting slavers, and Nina..." He shakes his head. 

"Fine. Whatever. I'll do the stupid job."

You sigh, knowing this job very well might be the death of you. Emotional death, that is. But then again, it was Kaz. Surely he wasn't the type to be a touchy fake date, not with his touch aversion.

"Good. Meet me down here at nine sharp tomorrow night. Dress nice, have concealed weapons."

Kaz walks off, not waiting for you to confirm you understood his directions. You scowl at his back before sighing. 

"This will be a disaster."

"I'm sure it'll be fun!" Jesper exclaims. "It's a party, how bad can it be?"

"I have to fake date Kaz Brekker." You deadpan.

"Yeah, but he wants you for arm candy. To draw the attention away from him. That's the closest to a compliment you'll ever get out of him."

You can't help but sigh again. "We take what we can get with him, don't we?"

-

Kaz is waiting for you outside the Crow Club when you arrive. He isn't dressed any different from his normal, except a pocket watch with a fancier chain than you’re used to. His gaze is level as he gazes at you as you walk towards him.

And you knows you looks good, but that isn't why he's looking at you. You’re in a nice outfit for once, flowing sleeves down to your wrists, and black gloves up to your elbows nearly. The gloves and long sleeves were carefully planned, knowing exactly what role you’d be playing tonight.

"How many knives do you have?" Kaz asks, looking behind you, almost like he's checking to see if you were followed by anyone. 

"Seven." You grin. You may be a pretty distraction tonight, but you’re just as dangerous as you are pretty.

"Good." He nods. Not approval, but close enough. "Let's go."

You walk next to him as they go through the streets of Ketterdam, slowly heading to the more expensive places. The streets widen, becoming more and more lit as they go, and you realize that maybe you should've asked whose party this was.

"So, Brekker. Lovely night, isn't it?" You ask conversationally. From the very start You’ve always used his last name, and haven’t even thought of changing that despite how he always ground his teeth at it.

"What do you want?" He snaps.

"Come on, be nicer to your date." You can't help yourself. Kaz might not react much, but it's funny when he does react.

"This was a bad idea."

"But we're too far into it now."

Kaz's jaw clenches, and you can't help but laugh quietly. "So, the plan?"

He sighs, and you wait a moment. Although he's sometimes an asshole, and mostly keeps things to himself, he's always told you everything you needed to know in a plan.

"Just look pretty and act stupid. Do what I tell you, for once." He finally says.

"Oh, yikes, that'll be really hard. I mean, listening to you?" You joke.

Kaz pulls up short, slamming his cane out in front of you. "I mean it, assassin." 

And just as you called him Brekker, he called you by your job. Assassin. 

"You can't call me that tonight." You respond calmly. "It'll give us away."

"Say it." 

You groan. "Fine. I'll listen to you."

He nods sharply, continuing on. "Good."

"You're a little paranoid, don't you think?"

Kaz doesn't even justify you with an answer at that one, leaving you to walk alongside him quietly. 

"This is it." He announces suddenly, and draws up short.

You let your eyes flicker over the building—tons of windows—then return to him. "...are you sure?"

"Yes. Inside. Now."

The second you take a step in, you shrink yourself. Shoulders curling in, angling yourself towards Kaz. You can feel his eyes on you as you do so, raking over you.

"Loosen up." He instructs you in a low voice.

"Easy for you to say." You murmur back. "You're not the one pretending to be the crow's whore."

"Someone's said that to you before."

It's not a question. Of course it isn't. Kaz's eyes sharpen, hardening into something mean in front of you.

"Not now." You say dismissively.

He glares at you but gives you a curt nod, and together you walk into the party. You, just for tonight, let yourself revel in the eyes being drawn to you. You give a taunting grin to someone they walk by, playing up your role a little.

Look pretty? Yeah, you can do that.

"Mr. Brekker." A merchant says, his eyes sliding from Kaz to you. "And..."

"Alex." you purr, tilting your head.

Like hell you’re giving your real name out to anyone here. Instead, Alex, a random name, will have to do.

"My date." Kaz cuts in smoothly. "Don't mind them."

"Pretty." The merchant says appraisingly. You should be flattered, but you’re more disgusted.

Kaz tilts his head, studying you. "Yes." He agrees coldly. "Get a drink, we're going to talk business. Loosen up."

You pause, but this certainly isn't the time to mention that youve never drank before. Instead you give him a graceful nod, floating off through the crowds. 

The bar is an open bar, you can tell that from the lazy way the bartender is flashing his watch. Nobody here is expected to get drunk, or to steal it. Unfortunately for them, you and Kaz are here, so no watch is safe.

"I'll have a drink." You say lightly, leaning on the counter.

"Of?" The bartender asks, snorting.

Shit.

"Make me what you're best at." You answer, looking at him through your eyelashes. It should be a safe answer.

By the way the bartender smiles and starts to make something, it is. A second later a glass of something is slid your way. Here's to hoping this won't fuck with you too much.

-

Kaz Brekker

He's starting to get a little worried. Not too much, he knows you can handle yourself perfectly fine, but it has been a while since he sent you off. You weren’t at the bar: he's been checking it every few moments.

It's starting to piss him off. One job, one easy job, and you can't even follow that. There was no point in bringing you if you was just going to vanish. 

"Come on, Assassin." He murmurs, still scanning the crowd.

Truthfully, he shouldn't be calling you that here. Alex was the name you gave the merchant earlier, and Alex was the name he should be calling you by. He isn't sure where Alex came from, actually.

It doesn't matter. What does matter is what he came here for, and finding you. 

Of course, right as he's about to turn back to the real reason he's here, there's a clatter of decidedly sour guitar strings. Most don't turn towards the noise, but Kaz does. And when he sees, his entire body freezes.

Because where else would you be except talking to the guitar player. And, from the looks of it, flirting with him.

"There you are." Kaz says, striding to you, feeling like yelling. "I've been looking for you."

"Sorry." You chirp, grinning brightly at him.

At that, he falters. When was the last time he saw a smile that bright, that genuine? Actually, scratch that, when had you ever apologized to him?

He leans closer, whispering in your ear, words coming out more as a snarl than anything else. "What are you doing, Assassin?"

"Me?" You ask, looking genuinely surprised. "I'm talking to the guitar player! I used to play guitar, you know, before my father broke it."

He flicks his eyes over you. Not once have you ever divulged information about your personal life, and not once did Kaz ever ask.

"You're drunk?" He asks, incredulously.

"Me? Drunk?" You gasp, stumbling.

With a lurch, he grabs your arms to stop you from hitting the floor. Even through his gloves, it sends a jolt up his spine.

"Three layers." You slur, and he realizes you’re comforting him while drunk. "Don't panic."

"How much did you drink?" He demands lowly, dragging you to a darker corner.

"Three. Maybe four."

"Three what?"

Only three drinks shouldn't have messed you up this much, not unless they were straight vodka or something ridiculous.

"I don't know." 

He stares at you. It isn't like you to be so... careless.

"What do you mean you don't know?" He snaps.

"I've never drank before." Kaz's jaw goes slack. You’ve never drank before? This is your first time drinking? Ever? "Hey, anyone ever tell you your eyes are nice?"

"Shut up, I need to think." Kaz growls, drawing a hand down his face.

His eyes dart around, landing on a nearby door. Without a second thought, he shoves you in, closing the door behind you and locking it. It's a bathroom, and for that he's incredibly thankful.

"Splash yourself with water." Kaz orders, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.

"Why?"

"To sober you up."

"Will it really?"

Kaz is starting to like you a lot more when she's sober.

-

You

An explosion rockets through the building, shaking the walls a little. "Woah." You laugh. It’s funny for some reason. "One of ours? Wylan's?"

"Yes." Kaz says, eyes flicking between you and the door. "Water, now."

"Why are we bombing the party?"

"Near the party." He corrects you impatiently.

There's a sudden pounding on the door, and Kaz swears under his breath violently.

"Anyone in there?! Open up!" 

You lift yourself onto the bathroom counter, sitting next to the sink. You watch Kaz, his scheming face on.

"What are you doing?" He asks, still glaring at you.

"Get over here."

"What are you doing?"

"Kaz." You raise your eyebrows. "Get caught or get over here."

Kaz clenches his jaw, striding up to you. "Now what? You're drunk, we're in a bathroom."

You run your hands through your hair, messing it up. You move back further to lean against the mirror, spreading your legs.

"Hands on either side of my head."

Immediately, Kaz stiffens. "Pardon?"

"We either make it look like you're about to fuck me or we get caught." 

His eyes go cold, but he leans in, placing a hand to right of your head. His left hand, though, goes to your waist.

"Three layers." He murmurs, almost to himself. "You're drunk, which means I'm yelling at you later for this."

"Please don't-" You cut yourself off with a gasp when the door slams open. You’re close. Not enough to touch Kaz, your mind isn't that foggy, but enough to certainly imply some things.

"Oh." A strange voice says. "Oh. My- my apologies, I didn't-"

"Get out." Kaz growls, turning his head away from you to glare at whoever is at the door.

The door shuts quickly with a loud "thud" noise. Both Kaz and you stay there for a moment, waiting to see if the intruder was actually gone.

"Wasn't that fun?" You say weakly.

"No." Kaz snaps, turning his head back to glare at you.

"Don't be pissed at me. I just saved our asses." You complain, meeting his eyes.

"Who said I'm pissed at you? Frustrated, certainly. I can't fault you too much for being drunk when I asked you to get a drink." 

"You have a nice voice." You say honestly.

"Close your mouth before you say something you'll regret."

you stare at him for a moment, mind swirling with thoughts you can't truly sort out.

You’re suspended for another second, neither of you having moved from the quite intimate position. You wasn't a short person, but you were smaller than Kaz, meaning he's practically covering your body with his right now.

"Could you get off me?" You say quietly.

"You're the one who put us in this position." He responds, raising his eyebrows. "If you were uncomfortable with it, you shouldn't have done it."

Either way, he removes his hands, but doesn't step back. Your head swims, having entirely forgotten his hand was on your waist in the first place.

"No, it's because I liked it too much." 

Kaz closes his eyes, rubbing his temples with gloved hands. "This is why I don't deal with drunk people."

"What, drunk people are too honest or something?"

"No. Secrets get spilled that nobody wants to hear."

"You don't want to hear my secrets?" You pout, a little upset. You must truly be nothing to him if he didn't even want your secrets to use against you.

"Why are you sad at that?" Kaz asks, and if you didn't know better you’d think he sounds incredulous.

"Because that means I mean nothing to you, which is depressing."

"Where did you get that idea?" His eyebrows furrow.

"You want everyone's secrets." You point out, still leaning against the mirror while sat on the counter. "Why not mine?"

"Trust me, I want them. I just want them out of your own free will."

Hell if you know what that means, but... "Nobody is holding a gun to my head."

"You're drunk. You have no filter."

"Correct. And? When did you care about morals?"

"I don't." He levels his cool gaze at you. "But when it comes to you... I know I wouldn't want my secrets getting out because I'm drunk." 

"When it comes to me?" You echo, jumping on the lose thread in his words.

"Get off the counter."

"Explain."

An unstoppable force meets an unmovable object, what happens? A collision so grand, so huge, that everything else pales in comparison.

But they aren't unstoppable or unmovable. You are drunk, Kaz has his own problems.

So he steps back, and you slide off the counter, fixing your clothes.

"Let's go." Kaz says gruffly.

But even now, even in the dim lighting of a bathroom, even with a foggy mind that is slowly clearing, you know. Hell, you both know.

Something has changed.

#six of crows #soc #kaz brekker #crooked kingdom #grishaverse #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #soc kaz #six of crows kaz

[ecoamerica]

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[miam0re]

Aftercare | Demon Brothers

Warning: Uhhhhh Implied Sex? Mentions of whipping, rough sex, pet play

Pairing: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor X Fem!Reader (separate)

Summary: How he takes care of you after he's fucked you nice and hard

Mia's Notes: Okay finally some proper obey me content!! I've been wanting to write stuff for them for a while wahhhhhh now I finally have hafjngakjfa. Will I write for the side characters, I'm thinking about it eheheh. Well hope you like this! mwah mwah

Lucifer knows that sometimes he takes it too far, to the point where you can't even speak properly 

He knows you enjoy it but still, you are his responsibility, his everything. And Luci is not one to slack in duty 

You're in his arms, nuzzling into his neck as he hugs you. His first priority is your comfort so he brings out oils of different scents and magical abilities, anything to make you feel better

His fingers knead your sore muscles and gradually heal any of the harsh impact marks (he's teetering on the edge of pride and sympathy) 

The red lines where he whipped you, he's most gentle around those areas. The way you're squirming, he can tell it hurts :(

He's carefully when he's turning your body around or helping you sit up against the pillows, holding a glass of water to your lips as you drink. Hydration is important for your throat to feel better after how much he made you scream 

"My lovely pet, I love you dearly. You've made me so happy...and so proud. Now let me take care of you."

If there is one thing Mammon prides himself in, it is how he's prepared to pamper you when you feel the fatigue and exhaustion hit

He's ready with these really expensive scented candle (did some research and bought some which he knew were relaxing scents) and some silk robes for you 

and how can we forget, the softest, fuzziest socks in all three realms

Mammon is a big softie and even though he's all like "Mammon the great must have been so rough that you can't even move", he's freaking out on the inside 

You're his precious love, he's going to wrap you in the soft blankets like a sushi and kiss you all over your face 

His way of praising you is by telling you how worthy you are to stand by his side. Might slip up and straight up tell you how much he loves you and values you 

He’s really vocal with his love for you, he’s just mega thankful you’re here with him

Thousands of kisses for you from him uwu 

"Only you are fit to be with the great Mammon! Because... Of how amazing you are. I love you, Treasure- whatever!"

When the sub-drop hits, you feel emotionally distant from him, and he doesn't like that at all :(

He loves you more than all his collectibles, even more than ruri-chan! 

Sure he may not be very experienced with sex and stuff, but he knows that you need him there with you. So why not do the one thing he's good at

Two player video games. Bonus if it's his favourite game 'It Takes Two'. Any co-op game for the two of you to play together <3 (what if you played genshin impact)

He'll hold you in his lap, arms hugging you tight as you get through the puzzles together. One kiss on your cheek because he can't handle more than that

He's delicately caressing the red lines across your thighs, where he may have squeezed too hard with his tail while cumming. Can't help it if you make him feel so good

"We work so well together, I bet we can finish the game in half the time. I love you so much, my Player 2." 

He's shushing you softly while wiping the tears from your face as he guides you to lay on top of him

You've done so well for him, he'll be there with you and care for you when the exhaustion his and the adrenaline subsides 

He's petting your body, stroking your hair and taking off the cat ear headband, massaging your neck after unclasping the collar

He's dragging a hand down your spine, chanting spells to calm the pain as he carefully pulls the cat tail butt plug out

He loves holding you close and whispering poetic phrases of love into your ears, kissing the top of your head as you drink some water

You're still so caught up in the scene that you're meowing and purring on top of him.. he doesn't dislike it though 

As rough and mean as he can be, he has a sweet side for moments like these. 

"Shh, Kitten, rest. You're so wonderful, a story more passionate than any I've ever read. I love you."

The avatar of sex himself. He can write a whole book on what come before sex, during sex and after sex

He knows everything about how your hormones go crazy but once everything is done, the sudden drop in the levels bring in the shallow depression 

And Asmo baby is all about the after care!!

What better way to relax your senses and aching muscles and get you cleaned up that a nice bubble bath

Want lavender? Jasmine? Or maybe you prefer a nice citrus scent. Whatever you want, Asmo is filling the tub with warm water and bubbles

He’s massaging your scalp with shampoo and lathering your body with soap, laughing with you as you play with the bubbles floating on the surface 

And when you’re done, he’s carrying you to his bed once again, only to rub some lotion on your skin. It’s really sweet how he’s using jade crystals to massage your face as you lay your head on his lap

You though you were glowing from the sex? But it’s really the aloe vera in the cream he’s using. Your skin is just as precious as his :p

“My Cutie Pie! Your skin looks so soft! I love you so much! Did you like the bath, because I know I did.”

Beel knows how his hunger for you can leave you heaving for breath, body burning from the exhaustion. 

You’re groaning in discomfort, crying about how your body and tummy hurts 

A light bulb flick in his head and he thinks of a sweet, romantic gesture for you that is sure to make you feel better

Please wait for him just one second as he runs to the kitchen and brings you chocolates and fruits and some warm tea

He’s quickly got you seated on his lap as you curl into the warmth of his chest. You look so comfortable like this, don’t you dare think he’ll let you lift a single finger now 

He’s holding fruits and pieces of chocolate to your lips, wrapping his hand around your frail ones as you take small sips of the herbal blend. His heart elates when you sigh in happiness and rest against his shoulder.

“Open wide, Cupcake. I love you and I want you to get your energy back up! Thank you for being with me.”

In all honesty, he’s too tired to do anything quite grand. The way your bodies moved together, he’s exhausted.

How about some cuddles? He knows how much you must be craving innocent physical affection and cuddles are right up his alley

He’ll scoot closer to you, wrapping his arms around you and tangling your legs together. His embrace is so tight and warm, you’ll find yourself slowly falling asleep

With your back against his chest, his nose buried in your hair and your neck as he kisses up and down your skin

His arms are snug around your waist, fingers rubbing mindless circles on your tummy

He isn’t one much to talk, but he’s concerned about you, whispering a question here and there in between the sweet words he breathes into your ears 

Your sleepy mumbles make him smile and he’s finding your hand, intertwining your fingers together, snuggling closer to you till your bodies were pressed together. 

“Go to sleep, my Star. I’ll protect you, here and in your dreams…because I love you, so much.”

#mia.smut #mia.writes #obey me smut #lucifer smut #mammon smut #leviathan smut #satan smut #asmodeus smut #beelzeub smut #belphegor smut #after care #obey me

[eriexplosion]

Cut for fandom salt

The reason I get so heated about the 'Is Tech Alive/Dead' discourse is that like. It is very hard for me to explain just how pissed I would be if he was dead. Not because 'oh no a thing happened in the show that I didn't like' I'm in my fucking thirties I've dealt with shows making stupid decisions before. It's what a permadeath here in particular would mean with everything surrounding it.

It's starting a series based around getting you to want a family to reunite just to pull the rug out 2/3rds in and say 'lol dumbass they were never going to reunite.' All those themes of family and needing it to be complete? Never meant anything.

It's building up a character, intentionally making sure he's read as neurodivergent in a very clear and confirmed way, giving him multiple plotlines, and then cutting them all off without finishing any of them by taking two episodes to set up a mission that has zero plot purpose except to kill him off and then say Oh well it's stakes and consequences there had to be a price to pay for... trying to reunite the family and save their brother I guess. How dare they.

It's providing zero confirmation in story on the death, spending months upon months saying shit like 'he doesn't come back in this episode at least' and 'this was the end of mine - and that's a good thing!' and 'if you could only see who's on my screen' knowing that there's a large portion of fans genuinely upset by his death, using social media pretty much exclusively to rub our faces in the scene, and then turns out they were just stringing everyone along the whole time, he really was dead, the lack of confirmation in episode meant nothing, us playing coy and dropping hints for ten months meant nothing, fuck you for giving a shit.

It's setting up a story where the clones could be more than soldiers and then abruptly cutting it off and going on and on about how wonderful it is that he died self sacrificing as a soldier and it's what any clone would want, because this show about how all clones are individuals is actually about how they're all interchangeable and any clone would want the same thing.

It's that if Tech is dead there is not a single piece of the show, a single interaction with the fans since it happened, a single anything from anybody involved that was not set up to make ND people hope (or god forbid even feel some kind of acceptance at seeing a neurodivergent character getting treated seriously) string them along, and then punish them for it so that everyone else can coo about how mature and bold it was to kill off the autistic guy for shock value. And then they don't even fucking address it the next season because ~oh there's just no time~

And I would really prefer if a show that I have loved almost every other aspect of, that has been genuinely well written and moving, didn't randomly decide to drop every single piece of their writing ability in order to put out the most ambiguous death scene ever, fuck with their audience for ten months, and then shit on them for caring.

#eri talks #because every goddamned day I have to see another thing about why 'oh it's good writing if he's dead' #no it's fucking not #this is not one of my well reasoned and in depth debate posts this is me venting

[bakeryblood]

vampire eddie, biting kink, some sort of handcuff usage. go nuts.

Take It Easy

Pt. 1

Vampire!Eddie Munson x Male Reader

cw: Alcohol, Angst, Depression, Blood

Y/N shifted the van into park before pulling the keys out of the ignition. Starting out at the seemingly abandoned trailer home Wayne Munson and his Nephew used to reside in. Every time, every week you came it was always the same. The same melancholy mixed with existential dread washed over your body as you grabbed your bag and hopped out of the drivers seat, quickly heading up the short flight of stairs and creaking open the metal door.

No hats lined the walls anymore, no collection of mugs on display. Wayne had taken anything and everything of sentimental value out of the trailer when he left months ago. The day he finished packing and you’d come by as you always did he stopped filling the box and walked over to you.

“Y/N..please stop coming here…He’s not coming back.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing but as you watched the older gentleman’s resolve crumble and a tear fell from his eye you knew he was just tired of waiting and hoping that Eddie would burst through that door one night. He’d missed too much work and sleep in the last weeks and he just couldn’t stay there anymore.

You bit your lip as you looked up at the tear in the roof, insulation where the black vines used to fill the space. There were still marks on the ceiling that reminded you of burns, stretching out, making vein like patterns. Wayne took your hand and placed something small and cold into it tearing you from your thoughts as you looked down at the set of keys, quickly looking back at him and shaking your head.

“Wayne, I can’t.”

“You can and you will Y/N. Along with anything else in his room, take it. The apartment doesn’t even have enough room for most of my things..he’d rather you have it than..” He trailed off with a shuttered breath, unable to finish his thought process of taking his missing nephew’s belongings to a donation center. Y/N wanted to cry but it was as if they’d run out of tears as they felt their face get hot, going into his room was so painful he could understand Wayne preferring someone else handle the task.

Walking over to the dresser that had sheets with music and lyrics written on them, notebooks with his future campaign plans. You couldn’t read anymore. You didn’t want to continue to test your body’s ability to not break down again, but as you went and sat on the untouched bed still as messy as the last day he’d managed to pull himself out of it. You leant over and hid your face in your arms as you heard the loud noise of the box tape being stretched out and placed on the seam of the cardboard box.

________________________________________

Dust flies into the air as the old Chevy van barreled down the dirt driveway of the trailer park, the couple sitting outside of their RV hollering at the driver to ‘slow the fuck down’, that there’s kids that live here despite it being close to midnight at that point.

As Y/N stepped out and slammed the car door he looked towards the flickering out of season Christmas lights and raised the hand that wasn’t holding a six-pack of beers connected at the top by rings of plastic and flipped them the bird before making his way up to the trailer, almost tripping up the steps and bursting through the door face first, thankfully catching himself before swinging it open after a moment of struggling to get it open. It always had a habit of sticking, Wayne or Eddie would usually spray the hinges and latch with WD-40 both to avoid forcing it and to keep from disturbing the other’s sleep schedule as they tended to sleep and come home at opposite times.

The old woman looked over at her husband as he tossed another old newspaper into the small fire they had in the pit in front of them. “Been a while since anyone lived there, should we ring the police?”

Her husband scoffed and shook his head. “You old bat, that’s Wayne’s place. Either it’s one of his boys friends or another shit bird coming to use it to smoke dope. Either way, it ain’t our business..” His wife glared at his insult before standing up and pulling her robe around herself in a comforting fashion. It was true that she’d forgotten, but seeing that van pull in like a bat out of hell did seem to jog her memory.

Three months. Y/N closed and locked the trailer door behind him as he walked in and assessed the condition of a place he used to spend so much time at. Taking his lighter out of his pocket he flicked it open and the small amount of light was enough to illuminate the space of the living room and some of kitchen. Dust particles along with what was likely airborne insulation floated around as he walked around looking at the graffiti littering the walls.

‘Hawkins Local Freak: Missing’

A debatably badly drawn pentagram in red spray paint. Y/N chuckled softly and shook his head as he went to the kitchen bar and placed his beer down before pulling one from the plastic. “Never were many people as creative as you where Eddie. Not here anyway..” Y/N popped the tab on the can and tossed it back, flicking his lighter closed as he felt it begin to heat up passed a point of comfortable holding as he slammed the first beer of that pack.

This wasn’t a regular hobby of his, racing as fast as he could towards getting black out drunk. In the last six months he’d only drank one other time over at Steve’s house and quickly excused himself to go sleep off the alcohol in their bed while he kept himself company. Tonight just seemed right for it. Since Wayne abandoned the place he spent a couple months visiting the home, spending time with what items of Eddie’s he’d left there. His guitar for one. Occasionally he would see that the curtain in the window had been moved to the side, bunched up slightly and he’d rush inside to find no signs anyone had really been there.

Eddie had been a big influence in Hawkins, both good and bad. The kids looked up to him so much and missed the head of hellfire dearly whilst others still considered it a good thing he had ‘skipped town’ after the cult leader accusations arose. Y/N knew he would have wanted him to do everything he could to look after Dustin, keep Steve from teachin’ him wrong. He knew he would have wanted you to take his campaign notes and keep hellfire alive.

But you failed. You gave up. You dropped out of school and slowly allowed yourself to drift away from the teens, unable to keep hearing their concerned voices as they asked you if you were okay almost every day. You could read them just as well as they could read you. They knew you weren’t okay and you knew they didn’t believe you when you said you were.

“I’m sorry Eddie..I miss you so fucking much..” Y/N leaned over on to the counter they had kept a hand on as to not get lost in the dark and they rocked. As unhealthy as it had been for him to continue to hold out hope, he felt so empty now. Like Eddie would have really let him have it if they saw him now. ‘Drinking is supposed to be fun you idiot.’

‘Wow, six months and you give up on me?’

Y/N wiped his eyes and felt for the wet, condensation covered cans of beer as he desperately held onto those thoughts. Their voice was still fresh in his mind. ‘Look on the bright side, at least you got to keep all my cool shit!’ Y/N grabbed his lighter after popping the top on the can and headed off for the bedroom, which was surprisingly in much better condition. Where the living room had been littered with cans, bottles and cigarette butts stomped out into the carpet Eddie’s room seemed untouched.

Considering how many of the people who detested him were all talk, more likely to be fearful of what might happen if they actually happened to run across the man who had been missing for the last six months, it wasn’t all that surprising. The bed was still as Y/N had left it on one of his many visits, making up the sheets. Besides his books, notes and stereo you had left everything else. Walking over to the rack of cassette tapes you set the open lighter on the tall dresser and left for your Walkman in your pocket before squinting to read the messily scribbled band names on the mixtapes.

‘1983-1986’ Pretty straight to the point for Eddie who tended to label his tapes with a silly name or label the vibe to them unless it was an actual bands tape he bought. Y/N stuck the cassette in his Walkman and slipped the headset off his neck and atop his head, listening as he looked over his shelves of things, cigar boxes he used for different little items. Movie ticket stubs, jewelry, the occasional banished DnD die or photograph.

Opening one that seemed to sit on top, first thing his eyes landed on was a tiny bag of white powder. Y/N’s head dropped as he sat the box down and picked the baggy up, rolling his thumb over the top of it. The light from his lighter disappeared as it fell over and Y/N stood up quickly from his crouched position next to the bookshelf, hands stretched out to feel his way until a faint red glow shown through the cracked bedroom door just enough for him to see his silver lighter laying on its side atop the dresser.

Y/N looked from it to the bedroom door and after pocketing it he slowly made his way over, stopping only for a moment to grab Eddie’s baseball bat from his very brief stent of little league that sat behind his door whenever it was open. Held at his side as he walked down the wall trepidation building more and more the brighter the red tint seemed to get. Like he had been transported into a photographers darkroom. It was the gate.

Y/N’s breath caught in his chest as he stared it down, part of him wanting to rush out and tell the others. So they could bring Eleven to close it. But the rest of him fought against those thought, what if he was still in there? Y/N felt the tears begin to bubble up in his eyes once again as he made his way to stand under it, gripping the metal beer can in his hand tightly before tossing it up through the portal as hard as he could as the track on the tape clicked to the next song, ‘Master of Puppets’. He couldn’t take this anymore.

Y/N ripped the Walkman from his pocket taking the headset with it and threw it against the wall of the trailer affectively smashing it to pieces as he screamed in anger. Crying was no longer enough for him to regulate his emotions, hell, it had never seemed to do much anyway. “Fuck you! Fuck you Eddie! You damn bastard! You always talked about being a coward, why couldn’t you just run!” Y/N held the sides of his head, the level of their own voice gave a headache the opportunity to start forming.

As he couched down holding himself he heard something that caused him to slowly pull his hands away from their face, uncovering their ears as they slowly turned their head in the direction of the kitchen. It had sounded like something or, someone, had opened and closed the fridge that sat currently inoperational given the trailer didn’t have electricity currently running to it. It was hard to make out anything for certain with the red cast over everything, shadows seemed darker.

“Well damn Y/N, tell me how you really feel.” Snapping their face forward at the voice coming from above them, they were finally ready to admit, they had lost it.

Eddie Munson, in all his glory, wasn’t just there in front of them. Being alive would have been enough to make them faint, but the fact that he had been levitating momentarily. You watched, shaking slightly as he slowly lowered to the floor. His black boots leaving soot and ash on the already filthy carpet as he stared down at you. “Y-You’re…alive?”

He attempted to suppress a smile as he tilted his head back and forth, his dirty hair, crunchy with dried blood swaying as he did. “I wouldn’t say that.” Y/N’s eyes scanned him over in more detail. Taking in his torn, blood stained hellfire shirt, he’d lost his outside layers they had left him there in, his bandana was tied around his neck and his injuries were healed from what you could tell.

Y/N scrambled up off the floor and leaned in closer to him causing Eddie to recoiled a few steps back as the young man made his advances. How fucking dare he. You didn’t care if this was a hallucination or what but this version of Eddie wasn’t going to just run away from you. “You— Piece of shit! Come here!” Y/N grabbed their arm and quickly pulled their hand away. He had heard the Byers youngest child talk about the upside down and how he felt like he never could quiet shake the cold it left him with.

But this was different. If you had ever once had the opportunity to feel a cadavers skin that’s what it must’ve felt like. Frozen. “Y/N..” You were now the one backing away from them. This wasn’t real.. And if it was, it wasn’t Eddie.

“You aren’t real..”

Eddie feigned a hurt expression and held up his arm, dirty with black marks. “You felt me, I’m here. I’m real.” Y/N shook his head as he felt his lower back press against the edge of the kitchen counter that separated one area from the other. “This is a sick joke my mind is playing on me. I’m..”

Eddie seemed to grow irritated at the notion that he was just a figment of your imagination. Three months alone in that hellscape and the first chance he got to escape this was his welcome home party? “I’m sorry I couldn’t do better for you Ed, I’m sorry I let them leave you there.”

In a split second he was on you, it almost was like the counter shook from the force of his hands coming into contact with it to stop himself. “Y/N, you’ve been my friend since middle school. I’m back now, so save the obituary, please.” He growled as your eyes were locked onto each others. That was true, you had been friends since middle school, and this was the first time Munson ever had made the hair on the back of your stand up.

You saw him give a hard swallow before pushing himself back off the counter and walking away from you again, he seemed like he wanted to keep a solid eight feet between you at all times. You just couldn’t do that, despite how filthy he was the moment your brain accepted the fact that he was truly there you rushed him, wrapping your arms around him as he threw his up in the air. “Y/N, stop. You need to get off of me.”

“Save it Munson, you can yell at me later.” You pressed your face against his neck and it was the same as his arm, though perhaps the shock in the moment made your senses exaggerate the feeling.

“Y/N…Why do you think that place suddenly let me leave like it did?” You lifted your shoulders in a shrug, letting them drop back to normal as he slowly let his hands creep up you, one resting on your lower back and the other coming up to rest between your shoulder blades. “It’s because it wanted me to..”

“I don’t care Eddie, that’s so far from being important right now. I don’t care how you made it out, you’re here now.” You we’re so scared if you pulled away he would just disappear. Proving to be a hallucination after all. The silence between you was so loud until Eddie finally spoke up again.

“Y/N..I’m sorry…” You lifted your head up to look at him before you felt the sharp pain of him biting into the crook of your neck, sharp teeth sinking into it you were the consistency of an apple. You grabbed a handful of his hair and surprisingly it was quite easy to pull him off of your neck, although not a comfortable feeling. Reaching up to guard the bleeding wound you stared at him in disbelief as he breathed heavily, standing there as if he was torn between making a break for it and leaping upon you like a wild animal.

“Y-you bit me!” You looked over at the front door before making a few long, quick strides for it. The wet, warm sensation of the blood slicking your hand as the man stayed where he was, licking his bottom lip as he watched you begin your attempt to leave.

“I told you to back off didn’t I?” As you pulled the handle a few times, cursing as you pulled your bloody hand off your neck to use both of them on the ‘stupid jammed piece of shit door’ until you felt him on you again, pressing himself against your back and your front against the cold metal trailer door. “Don’t make me force this, I don’t want it to hurt more than it has to—“

“Stop it! This is one of your horror comics Eddie, you don’t need—“ His hand went to the back of your head, pressing the side of your face it against the door roughly as he moved his face beside yours growling before speaking.

“Because you know what this feels like? To feel absolutely nothing for fuck knows how long and finally after getting back your skin begins to crawl.” He clenched his jaw as he nuzzled his head against yours. “Begging you to give in to your new instincts in exchange for saving you from death, you know that feeling?” He didn’t want to do it to you, out of anyone not you. But you were here. You were so warm. He could smell the remnants of cologne on your skin and the beer on your breath. He could taste the ethanol in your blood.

“Then..fucking doing it..” Perhaps under different circumstances, when his mind wasn’t overtaken by the need to feed, he would have hesitated. Lacing his fingers into your hair he gave your head a tug to the side to better expose the mark he had made earlier, giving you a small taste of payback for yanking him off of you the way you had.

As he took up the space again, mouth working over the wound you couldn’t help but allow yourself to feel a sense of hedonistic pleasure from it. Adrenaline fought the pain back while your touch starved skin was ravaged by him, once the first mark at clotted he bit down again. You only had yourself to blame being the one who stopped him earlier, now in no position to do so again. You groaned in pain as he pulled out of your flesh only for a moment to come back down, doing his best to suction as much blood from the wound before lapping at it.

It wasn’t most lucrative way for him to get what he wanted but between his animalistic urges and what he had known from his horror comics you’d mentioned, it was all he knew to do in the moment. And once he had gotten enough to finally push himself away from you the both of you realized the gate had again gone dormant leaving you in the pitch black darkness once again. He could see you perfectly fine as you turned around and looked around blindly holding your tender, painful neck.

He was truly disgusted with himself, the type of shame a young boy feels the first time they touch themselves. He felt like a monster, he knew he was a monster. He wasn’t the Eddie you knew anymore and he proved it. “Eddie..?”

You felt your pockets for the lighter you’d forgotten about until then and flicked it on, holding it up as you walked forward towards the figure leaning over with his arms against the wall of the trailer, his back facing you as he attempted to heave. Before you could get close enough to reach out and touch him he spoke up. “Get the fuck away from me Y/N!”

You scoffed lightly offended at his aggressive tone, you were past being scared of him. “You already ate, Dracula. I’m not leaving you here anyways.” You had wanted to tell him to calm down, that you were the one with multiple punctures in your neck right now, but the way he was looking at you like you were the deranged one in this scenario made you hold back.

“And what, I’ll just hide in your closet during the day?” You rolled your eyes and walked over to the kitchen bar, picking up the van keys and jingling them at him. “You don’t even know if you ‘can’t go out in the sun’ yet, But I do know that you fuckin’ smell.”

#stranger things #stranger things one shot #stranger things x male reader #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x m!reader #eddie munson x male reader #eddie munson x male!reader #vampire eddie munson #vampire eddie x reader #angst fic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x you

[linka-from-captain-planet]

Florrickology, Part 5: Counsellor Desiré "Fuck It, We Ball" Florrick

Back in Part 1, I alluded to this fascinating aspect of my beloved's personality. I have had much to say about her overarching actions re: her role in the story, but it's time to focus on the details of what she actually does and how she actually handles the challenges she faces of the course of the three acts.

What is so interesting about Florrick is that she's presented as character who would be fully Lawful Good: careful, methodical, a planner... but IS she?

Again, it's important to emphasize that Florrick is a background figure. She's a quest-giver and a story-mover first, and a character last.

As I mentioned in previous installments of Florrickology, what she actually says and does isn't as important as the impression they leave the player with; you aren't supposed to read too much into her literal lines/actions, but rather take them at pretty much face-value and move on with the game, because they mostly boil down to a) moving the plot for more important characters/events and b) video game mechanics.

But as a background character propagandist and Florrick's first and #1 simp, this creates a playground of fun stuff to play with that is actually rooted in canon, because even if you aren't supposed to read into these things, you can and I did.

In Part 1, I said:

I'll have more to say about Desiré "Fuck It, We Ball" Florrick and her personality in another florrickology post, but the long and short of it is that this woman is not afraid of shit and sashays into every situation fully confident in her ability to charm or steamroll it to her liking. "She is used to getting her way", indeed.

Let's dig in deeper, encounter-by-encounter.

"She is used to getting her way" is straight from the dialogue file for the first Florrick encounter conversation, which along with "She should come off as no-nonsense but good" is the only description of her in the files. These definitely set the tone, because what's the first thing Florrick does in the game?

Command the player to assist with search and rescue. She's not really asking, even if she does phrase it in a civilized manner. As far as she's concerned, she's calling the player up (on borrowed authority, as she's only an advisor, not a duke herself) for a mandatory civic duty... even if they're not even Baldurian, or even from this plane of existence. If you think about it, unless Wyll is with you, it makes 0 sense to agree to anything she asks (especially if you don't yet know anything about the overall plot), and all this is an insane thing to ask of a random stranger who just happened to stop by.

I love this because not only is it insane, it's assertive. It's asking for forgiveness, not permission. It's the door-in-the-face technique. It's being so self-assured and confident that she is correct and others will comply because she is correct that it doesn't even occur to her that anyone would refuse. From her perspective, it's probably a small ask considering what she would be willing to do, and proceeds to actually do, for the sake of the greater good and the survival of Baldur's Gate.

My first play through I had literally no clue what the fuck she was talking about, was only tangentially aware that "Baldur's Gate" was an actual place and not the place I currently was, and had not yet synthesized any information about the overall plot, but of course I was immediately like "never arguing with a woman with big brown eyes... whatever you say gorgeous" and would have immediately run to """moonrise towers""" if I had any idea where it was. So needless to say it worked on me.

This blisteringly self-assured and balls-to-the-wall approach to handling every situation follows her throughout the game.

Depending on how you progress through the Act 1 map, she may be the first character who tells you details about Moonrise Towers, the center of this hot new cult on the block, swallowed in shadows so perilous that they can only be attributed to nefarious powers at work... so obviously, she's just like "anyway, I'll see you there."

And then she literally runs off with her ragtag group of surviving Fists, thong and all. No further planning. No correspondence with contacts in the city. It IS the next step in handling this matter in her estimation, which is true and correct, so that's what they'll do.

Fuck it, we ball.

When you meet her again in the Last Light Inn, her Fists have completed a reconnaissance mission to Moonrise (maybe she went with, considering her famously good scouting skills) and determined it to be unassailable, which indicates she considered storming the tower as an option, despite presumably already having rendezvoused with the Harpers who informed her that the tower was guarded by cultists, zombies, and an immortal undead general. (You also find her mid-argument with a Fist, putting him in his place as he questions her authority and she is NOT having it.)

On speaking with her, she promptly voluntells the player's party to investigate the tower further, while she returns to the city to appeal to the council for reinforcements, specifically newfangled Steel Watch units. Then for some reason, she drops this fairly baffling line:

Baby... what the fuck do you mean?

Does she mean she half-expects to die trying to transverse the shadow-cursed lands, which she's already done with no issues (presumably sheltered by the radiant glow of her gorgeousness)... or does she know or suspect there's something up with the council, which she's never indicated before? I think I missed something in this convo due to being distracted by beautiful she looks in this lighting, but if I didn't, then I guess she's possibly referring to getting past the Absolute's army parked in the way to the city, but regardless...

Fuck it, we ball. It's what she decided to do, so it will be done.

The next time you meet her, she's like a completely different woman. Defeated, head hung, demoralized, just waiting in her cell for execution. She can't escape for Video Game Reasons, but realistically... she definitely could, as a level 11 wizard. She just chooses not to, because as she says herself, she already lost. She failed, and the city will fall, and there's nothing worth living for.

It's shocking to see her in this state because it's so discordant with her previous behavior: head high, spine iron, barking orders.

So, good thing she bounces back immediately! This is again a Video Game Mechanic, but I do find it very in character that her response to even the "I'll beat your ass" rescue option is basically "You're totally right, giving up wasn't very cash money of me."

I've had much to say about the last real Florrick encounter, and how much it sucks ass, but it really is the biggest Fuck It, We Ball moment in the game, because you have to consider:

Florrick knows the player and/or Wyll have killed the avatar of a god. And she confronts them anyway, ready to fight and definitely ready to die. She's already fugitive marked for death; she's already determined that with Ulder fallen, the city is doomed.

Might as well die like she lived, right? Might as well take a mother fucker down with her, right?

All of this subtle chaos and insanity is super fun (also hot) to me because it's like... what is this woman's actual deal? Combined with what I pointed out in Florrickology Part 3, where Wyll implies it's somewhat routine practice for her to up and kill would-be assassins and also scout the wilderness for danger, "moving the plot" and "video game mechanics" add up to one hell of a woman. How does she come off as such an uptight, level-headed person but sometimes act like 5 raccoons stuffed into a distractingly sexy dress?

Truly an icon of a character for us modern-day corporate girlies who just get a little squirrelies sometimes.

Women can truly do it all!

#probably will have to edit and repost this one later #brain full of stardew valley but I wanted to keep some momentum #florrickology #counsellor florrick #ball so hard university

[oceanmusings]

Wanted

Pairing | Gale Dekarios x Prisma

Content Warning | some spoilers to act 2, both from Gale's romance and how it can go at the Last Light Inn. Oblivious to flirting or romance, first kiss, some anxiety. Super fucking fluffy my lord-

Word Count | 2.4K

Summary | Gale tells Prisma he finds her attractive when she fights and he wants her, but Prisma mistakes what he really says. A friend of her needs to point out that the wizard really likes her and now Prisma has to figure out how to tell him she shares the same feelings. (featuring my friends oc, Kaelith)

Masterlist

Prisma is very aware of her faults. Her lack of strength is a big one that she knows well, and maybe she is a little closed off, but she has her reasons. But the big fault of hers is she can’t read anyone or have the ability to look between the lines. She knows she takes a lot on face value, she has since she was young. Her mother would give her a command of some kind and then when Prisma thought she understood, she would come to learn that there was more to the request that she didn’t understand. Or there was a time when she was in her 20’s and one of the neighbors - a beautiful elf with short blonde hair - had asked her one evening if Prisma wanted to have dinner sometime. Prisma thought this was a request to hang out with a friend, so she accepted. She wouldn’t find out until halfway through dinner that this was indeed a date. And she only found out after the blonde elf told her she was nervous to ask her out on a dinner date.

Prisma wouldn’t forget the look on her face after Prisma choked on her apple salad and exclaimed. “This is a date?!”

Then came the awkward silence and Prisma having to admit she misunderstood the invitation.

Upon meeting Gale - or well, saving him by pulling him out of a rock; that was one way to meet someone - the wizard was a bit of a challenge for her. She enjoyed talking with him and could listen to him talk for hours about any subject. Quickly, she considered him to be a friend and she was sure he thought the same about her. But there were some aspects about the wizard that confused her. She knew he was flirting at times, but she’s known people before that she thought were flirting because they liked her, but would find out that’s just who they were. It didn’t mean anything.

So even though a blush that would rise to her cheeks and a tingle that would run through her system. She would send him a smile and let out a small laugh. Then turn away from him. She didn’t want to ruin a friendship by misreading things.

The fear of misreading seemed to run deeper than she anticipated. After they arrived into the Shadow-Cursed Lands and were attacked by some shadow figures with some - what Prisma would learn later call themselves - harpers. The buzz of adrenaline was still all around them as the final shadow figure went down, it took a second for Prisma to figure out how to breathe again and come back to center. Finally feeling the ache in her bones, the sweat that made her clothes cling to her skin, and suddenly the pain registered as she noticed new gashes on her skin that these figures caused. She stayed back as she took this moment to heal the gashes while everyone else looted the area or talked with the harpers. Her focus lessened as the wizard came up to her, saying something about if she read a book about something. Her head was a bit fuzzy from not only fighting shadow figures, but also the aura of this place. The feeling of sorrow, death, and despair already beginning to plague her. It was admittedly hard to listen to Gale as she did the last healing spell on herself. “Sorry, hun- what are you trying to say?” Prisma says finally, brushing wild red hair out of her face to be able to give Gale her full attention.

The way he was looking at her was different, she could note that, but he also seemed nervous. His thumb was rubbing his staff absentmindedly, and he has this nervous smile on his face. She felt his eyes rake over her whole body for a brief moment before snapping back up to look into her purple eyes. “Only that I find you quite irresistible. Even illuminated by such rotten light as this place produces.”

Confusion replaced Prisma’s expression. Raising an eyebrow as she looked around them. Nothing but darkness surrounded them, no sun was able to penetrate the tree’s and their only source of light was from the torch Astarion or Gale held. Or the tiny blue flame Prisma cradles in her hand.

“Perhaps it’s just the thrill of our near-death experience talking. But standing at your side through such darkness and despair, it only makes me want you more.”

“Want more what?” Prisma said out loud before she could stop herself. “Do you need me to get something for you? I get it. This place is more dreadful than I thought it would be. Despite Halsin’s warnings. Maybe at this Last Light Inn there will be something!”

Gale suddenly looked disappointed, a small frown on his face before quickly being replaced by a grim smile. But Prisma noticed that frown, more confusion filling her features. “It’s quite alright, Prisma.” Was all he said before he stepped away from her and began to go join the others on what they found. Prisma watched him, blinking owlishly, her brain trying to wrack what happened. Did he want something from her? And if so, what?

Prisma heard a muffled groan behind her and she turned to one of her newest friends - Kaelith. A half-elf with red hair that fell almost to their shoulders. Their face in their hands and looking pained. Not in the physical sense though, it seemed. They weren’t hit by the shadow figures from Prisma’s memory of the fight. “What?”

“You’re so stupid.”

“What?” Prisma squeaked, offended. “What did I do?”

“He just told you blatantly how he feels, and you still didn’t get it?”

“Wait, what-? What Gale just said?” Prisma took a second to try and rethink what Gale was telling her, but her fuzzy mind came up short. “What did I miss?”

“For fucks sake- He likes you!”

“He does?” Prisma deadpanned.

“Yes. The way he looks at you should be evidence enough. But he just said it to you now! That’s what he “wanted” from you.”

Prisma was quiet as she processed what Kaelith was saying. Gale liked her? She tried to remember everything since meeting Gale and she couldn’t deny the signs, it being more obvious now. And what just happened should’ve been the biggest sign to her. “Oh Gods.”

“Finally!” Kaelith exclaimed, taking her by the shoulders and shaking her slightly. “You have no idea how insufferable it’s been to watch this. Now, go talk to him!”

Prisma didn’t end up talking to Gale though. They had met the harpers at the Last Light Inn, met another druid - Jahiera - and then an ambush happened and came to save the cleric, Isobel. Things with Gale were quickly pushed to the back of her mind. It didn’t resurface for Prisma until they had finally made camp. Prisma sat near the fire at the center of their camp, poking the flames with a stick she had grabbed near her. Remembering everything that her and Gale have done together. Everything he’s said to her.

Kaelith was right. She was stupid.

“Darling, what are you doing?” Prisma was pushed out of her memory and turned her attention away from the flames to look up at her two friends. Astarion and Kaelith.

“Nothing.”

“Shouldn’t you be talking to someone?” Prisma followed Kaelith’s gaze to Gale at his tent. He wasn’t far from them, but he was sitting on one of his pillows at his tent, absorbed by whatever he was reading. Prisma knew he wouldn’t hear a thing. Prisma stood up and looked down to her friends, nervously tugging her cloak closer to her body.

“Are you sure you’re right about this?”

“Yes.” The warlock and vampire speak at the same time, exasperated by the druid’s nervous nature. Kaelith took Prisma by the shoulders and pushed her towards Gale’s tent while exclaiming “tell him!”

Prisma stumbled a little from surprise at the shove, turning to glare at the two for a moment, and then walked up to the wizard’s tent. His fingers were gliding over the pages as he read, the furrow in his brows as he focused was incredibly adorable, and he was totally not aware of Prisma’s presence until she cleared her throat.

“Oh! I didn’t see you there, Prisma.” With a smile, Gale closed his book and got up from his sitting position. “What can I do for you?”

“Um- I was hoping to talk with you about something.” She took a moment to look around their camp. There were a lot of them around, and she realized she didn’t want to do this in front of them. “Privately. Maybe when everyone else goes to sleep.”

“Oh- uhm, of course.”

Prisma sends him a smile and tells him to meet her at the house up on the hill.

As everyone began to wind down, Prisma took this opportunity to slip away from everyone. She grabbed some candles in her trunk that she had been collecting along the way and made sure to wash up a little bit before she heads up. Trying to get as much dirt and muck off of herself as she could. Entering the broken down house she found what seemed to be a queen size bed in the middle of the main room, with a fireplace and bedside tables with a wardrobe somehow still intact. There was another room off to the side, but it was so tiny, she decided to stay in the main room. She had lit the fireplace and slowly filled the room with candles. She held her blue flame as a bit of light and not only to light the candles, but she found the blue flame filled her with a sense of comfort. The fire was light to hold and kept her warm in such a cold and dead place. It was the only thing keeping her grounded.

Her mind was still spiraling on what she should say to Gale though. And she wouldn’t have much time to figure it out as she heard a pair of footsteps, followed by said wizard’s voice. “Prisma?”

Prisma had been pacing the room as she tried to think what on each to say to him, stopping in her tracks at his voice. “Hey! Thanks for meeting me.”

“Of course. Are you okay? You don’t look well.” Gale had taken a second to survey how many candles Prisma had spread out in the room, casting a beautiful glow throughout the broken room. But he stepped closer to her as he studied her face in the better light. The concern etched across his features caused a warmth to spread throughout her chest.

“No- well, yes. But I’m fine.” Prisma extinguished the blue flame from her hand, taking a second to take a breath and calm her nerves. “I feel like I should apologize.”

“What for?”

“Well, what you said earlier. I completely missed what you said and made a fool of myself and you, and I want to say sorry.”

He suddenly looked embarrassed and took a step back, distancing himself. The blush that raised to his cheek and ears was so adorable, it was hard for Prisma to hear his response. “Oh, it’s quite alright. It was very forward of me to say and not the time or place. If anything, I should be the one to-”

“But you shouldn’t!” Prisma couldn’t stop herself from interrupting, stepping closer to him before he could be too far from her. “I am usually very bad at reading people or looking between the lines. But sometimes when people tell me straight out what they want or need from me, I will still miss it. And that’s what you did. You told me what you wanted straight out, and I still missed it. Kaelith had to be the one to make me realize what you were saying.”

Gale blinked, surprised. Looking maybe a little mortified they were having this conversation now. “It’s okay, Prisma. Please, don’t stress about it. We can forget the interaction ever happened.”

“That’s the thing, I don’t want to forget it happened.” Prisma made one last step and reached her hand for Gale’s, letting their fingers interlock. “Besides, I didn’t ask you to come up here to talk about that.”

He raised an eyebrow. “It’s not?”

“No.. uhm... Gale, how do you feel about women who make the first move?”

A shy smile pulled at his lips, anticipation radiating off of him now. “I don’t know. I’m still waiting for it to happen.”

“Goodness…” Prisma could feel her face heat up and she knew the large blush spreading across her cheeks and pointed ears had surfaced. Her mind was racing with excited anxiety, an inkling of fear what could happen if she did this.

She decided to stop listening to her fears. They haven’t been any help to her lately at all. She closed her eyes and closed the gap between them, pressing her lips against his own. Gale was eager to return the kiss, his free hand landing on her waist to pull her closer to his body heat. Despite the eagerness shared between the human and elf, there was an air of nervousness, a little hesitant on what could come next from doing this. Maybe she was mistaking it for excitement?

The smell and warmth of Gale enveloped Prisma like a familiar hug. A smell only she could associate with him now. Lavender, spice, and something old that only books could hold. Prisma also realized she’s never kissed anyone with a beard before. The scratch of his tickled her upper lip in such a pleasant way it quickly became a favorite of hers that she wanted more of.

Unfortunately for both, they needed to breathe. Prisma’s lungs begging for mercy. If there was no use for breathing Prisma would stay here and basically kiss the wizard to death.

Neither moved away from each other as they separated from the kiss, staring into each other’s flushed faces. Gale’s eyes were sparkling in a way she’s only seen when he had shown her a little bit how he performed his magic.

“Technically,” Gale spoke in a soft tone, no louder than a whisper. He let go of her hand to brush his fingers through her red hair with a gentle touch. She leaned into it. “I was the one who made the fire move.”

“Shut up.” Prisma breathed and pulled him back into a kiss. He gladly let her.

#dnd character : prisma #bg3 oc #bg3 tav #bg3 #bg3 gale #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale dekarios x tav #gale dekarios x oc #gale dekarios fluff #bg3 one-shot

[dispatchvampire]

Accidentally In Love (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x FemaleOC

Warnings: Potentially lethal levels of fluffiness right now, potential for smut later. A little blood, canon levels of violence potentially. Plus size female OC, body descriptions.

Rating: PG-13 (right now for language, but look for this to change)

WC: 2200-ish.

Summary: 

Echo's living a normal life in NYC, a 911 dispatcher, the most excitement she gets is from the calls she takes. And then love comes crashing in one day when she's riding her bike through Central Park.

Steve and Bucky weren't looking for anything on their daily run around the park besides fresh air and exercise. The streak of purple eye candy on a bike that lapped them pretty regularly was a nice addition but not mandatory, at least until some impromptu roughhousing results in some civilian casualties in the form of the most beautiful woman either of them had seen in a long, long time.

A/N: AU, Post CACW, Bucky’s Chill and we have always lived in the Tower. Just call this a throwback to the found family, everyone lives in Stark Tower fics.

This is supposed to be a super-fluffy love story. Still undecided if I'm gonna keep this one going but posting now for giggles and grins. It's got some CSI:NY characters crossing over because why not.

I'm just messing about and playing in my WIPs folder. Not Beta'd: we die like men! (honestly, I tried but if you catch something I missed, let me know)

Chapter 1

Five miles at a time. Everything in the early morning hours was measured five miles at a time for Echo Nerys and her trusty mountain bike. From 6:30 to 8AM give or take, she was a glittery purple streak on a circuit through Central Park from end to end that she’d measured precisely both for distance and scenic value. The moment she left her job at NYPD Central Dispatch at 6AM, she was changed and on the bike, ready to go. She even had an appropriately timed playlist on Spotify. 

She’d started as early in the spring as the weather allowed for, in her long compression pants and jacket, getting her face chapped as she and her body remembered what it felt like to be on two wheels and free. A figure in all black in the early hours of the morning fast enough to pedal past the majority of the criminal element and yet still taking hits off her asthma bong when she paused to get drinks from her backpack. 

Now, though, with the summer slowly stretching out down the coast, she’d tied up her puff pigtails and ditched her all black for the wildly purple tie-dyed bike shorts, sports bra, and tank top, all matching, because why not and her favorite pair of sunglasses that made her look like a trained killer. Even her earbuds were purple. There were some who said she didn’t really have the body for the tightly clinging gear, but fuck those people, she was going to be comfortable and safe while she worked out and they didn’t have to look if it offended them. Her body, not-toned stomach, thick thighs and semi-floppy arms, was her own and had been through many of its own wars, and she could wear what made her happy. 

She’d picked up riding the previous summer and had taken it inside for the duration of the winter, riding in the basement gym of 1PP, but she didn’t have a whole lot to show for it physically other than shaplier calves and slightly thinner thighs. She wasn’t in it for the way she looked, but how good it felt to finally move after being sick and stuck with her joint pain for so long. Now that her meds were mostly managed, she was hell on two wheels, six days a week if she could manage, five if she wanted to go easy on it, and it felt amazing.  

On her pace, she saw herself coming up on a group of joggers just cresting the hill, the tallest among them, a hottie from the Homicide Squad, Donnie Flack. All black-haired, blue-eyed Irish, he was every dispatcher’s crush and untouchable as a museum piece because of his wife in the Coroner’s Office. No one wanted to test a forensic scientist’s ability to exact revenge. It was just poor planning. And he was such a sweetheart, it was impossible not to be his friend. 

“On ya left!” she hollered out as she approached the group, powering up the hill despite the way her knees screamed and her thighs burned. It was the principle of the thing, really, as she stood on her pedals and waved as she sailed past them with a jaunty grin. Now that she’d caught up to them, she saw it was a couple other guys from Homicide and one of the guys from down in Trace Evidence. 

“Lookin’ good, E!” Danny Messer, Flack’s whip-thin, mouthy bestie from Crime Scene Investigations, hollered back with a huge grin and a wave as Donnie stuck his fingers in his mouth and wolf-whistled. Messer was good people, and his wife was a doll. Echo lived in their building a couple floors down and had babysat their kids more than a couple times. 

Once she was out of sight, she concentrated on her speed according to the handlebar speedometer and focused on her Beastie Boys as she took the path around the edge of the Jackie O Reservoir. It was so beautiful, with duck families out in force, moms with their collections of babies trailing behind. The water made the air feel a bit cooler as the wind rushed over her skin as she progressed toward the Butterfly Garden. 

Next up on her list of gorgeous sights was the two guys in front of her that she’d dubbed Hotness 1 and Hotness 2. She passed them a few times on her rides, most mornings. Hotness 1 was tall like Donnie, but broader, with muscles upon muscles. He looked like an escapee from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, if Galatea had been 6’3” and blonde with cornflower blue eyes and an ass that would have reduced Michaelangelo to abject weeping. 

Hotness 2 wasn’t any easier on the libido, with his blue-grey peepers and long dark hair he kept in a bun at his neck to go with his panty-melting smile and muscles. His bangs broke free of their confinement framing his face as they drifted over his model-perfect cheekbones and brushed against his sharp jawline. Not that she’d been ogling. Much. 

Alone, they were the kind of flawless that caused traffic jams. Both of them together was an obscenity charge waiting to happen in their running shorts and sinfully well-fitting t-shirts, and more than one jogger—both male and female—had pulled up lame, run into a tree, or tripped over their own feet watching them go by.  

“On ya left!” she called as she approached them, smiling as they waved when she flew by. If she happened to be standing on the pedals and sticking her ass out a bit more than was strictly necessary, well, could anyone blame her? Really? Besides, their smiles and waves of acknowledgement were totally worth it.  

Just past The Loch was the Glen Span Arch, which always felt like a fairy garden to Echo. A stone bridge over the asphalt path with the stream running next to it and abundant trees, it was easy to imagine falling into a rabbit hole like Alice diving into Wonderland and never coming back. With the sun dappling through the leaves, it was here she felt like she was the only person in the world and life was perfect. 

At least it was, until a grizzly bear in a blue shirt and black shorts descended into her path from down the hill. Echo hit the brakes so hard the back tire came up off the path and ditched out on the bike to keep from hitting him. She went one way and flung the bike the other, doing her best to guard her face and head from what would likely be a hard hit.

“Fuckshit!” 

It was over in a second, she was in the creek, soaked to the bone on some very hard and unforgiving rocks that were currently poking into her ribs and hip, with no idea where her bike was. Or her sunglasses. Or phone. Taking inventory from toes upward, she was happy to report that for the most part, she’d likely sustained bruises but otherwise, she’d live. At least, until she tried to push herself up and her hand slipped on the wet rocks, sending her face first into the flowing water. 

“Ah Christ! Hold on!” a deep, unfamiliar male voice hissed as he hooked his hands under her arms and bodily lifted her from the stream. Literally picked her up like a discarded toy, and like she weighed just as little, cradling her to his surprisingly firm and muscular chest. “I got you, sweetheart.” If she wasn’t so busy reeling from the hit and sputtering from the water coming out of her sinuses, his warm, rumbling voice as he brushed his lips over her temple would have definitely done the job. “I gotchu, darlin’. Are you okay?”

“I think so?” Echo took a second to compose herself after he set her on her feet with his arm protectively around her waist, scrubbing a hand down her face to deal with the water and unfortunately blood coming from sore spots on the bridge of her nose and her chin. When she looked up from her bloody hand, she wondered exactly how hard she’d been hit in the head, because in front of her was the concerned face of the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, looking her over like she was the most delicate bone china and he’d just yeeted it off the dining room table. He cupped her jaw in his hand, thumb gently brushing over her cheekbone, it was familiar and more than a little terrifying. Who the hell was this guy and why the hell was he touching her? 

At her tiny, horrified squeak, his blue eyes widened, looking over his shoulder at his friend, Hotness 2, who had a cell phone pressed to his ear. “This is your fault, ya jerk. You plannin’ on helpin’ or what?” 

The grey-eyed Adonis with the long dark hair held up a strangely metal-looking finger and spoke tersely into the phone before hanging up and coming over to them with a disgruntled look on his face for his friend. “Medics inbound. Settle down, Stevie.” The moment those steel-blue eyes turned on her, though, it could have been the sole cause of global warming because damn, if she didn’t melt a little on the spot from their tenderness. “I am so sorry, dollface. I didn’t see you. Are you okay?” 

When he reached for her face to examine her bloody chin, she recoiled out of reflex, not fear, but unfortunately that was the moment that everything went to shit for the second time in ten minutes. 

“NYPD! Step away from her!” Flack had his gun out and his badge around his neck, with Danny doing the same as he cautiously approached her with the rest of the heavily armed, sweaty contingent. Apparently Tall, Dark, and Yummy wasn’t moving fast enough because then Donnie barked, “Now, asshole! Move away from her or I’ll shoot.” 

Both hands up and out to the side, 2 stepped back, eyes never leaving the gun trained on him. “You don’t wanna do this, pal.” He seemed amusingly calm, which made about as much sense to her as any of the rest of this, which was none at all. Blondie slowly straightened up further but kept an arm around her waist to hold her up.

The very fact that the man spoke seemed to incense her friend further. “You think I give a fuck about your opinion?” 

“Hey, that’s not necessary…” The man standing with her gave her a reassuring squeeze before stepping over to stand with his friend. 

With them occupied, Danny crept up next to her and moved her off to the side, surrounded by the rest of the guys from Homicide and Evidence. “She’s secure, Flack.” 

“Good.” The detective nodded before turning his attention back to his quarry. “Now what the fuck were you doing feeling up an injured woman? You get off on that?”

Hotness 1 was all calmly defiant righteousness, standing shoulder to shoulder with his buddy. “We called a medic for her, they should be here in a couple minutes. We weren’t looking and didn’t see her on the path until it was too late.” 

“This true, Echo?” Danny asked softly as he gently seated her on a nearby boulder and seemed to be checking her over for more injuries than just her face and her pride.

She went to nod but that rattled her head too much. “Yeah, Messer. I guess. It was just a regular crash. My fault as much as theirs, really. No real harm done.” 

Frowning ferociously, Flack clearly was not content with her answer. “IDs, I want ‘em. Now.” 

Blondie nodded slowly, alarmingly unperturbed about having a .40 caliber pistol pointed at his face. “Front right pocket. You wanna get it or should I?”

“Don’t get us shot, Stevie,” the longhaired man admonished his friend. From his long-suffering expression, this was apparently not the first time this type of thing had happened to either of them. 

Rolling his eyes, Flack held out his hand. “Alright, smartass, wallets now.”

While the Homicide Hottie (as they called him in Dispatch) held court with her two new acquaintances, the ambulance rolled up and the medics  began cleaning her wounds and checking her over as her worried neighbor stood guard over her. The last thing she wanted or needed was stitches and additional facial scars, but it looked like she might not get a choice in the matter. 

“Messer! Get over here!” The note of concern in the detective’s voice had her looking over immediately, only to find all the guns put away and all their postures seemed substantially less aggressive, though no less agitated. 

“Ma’am, could you hold still please?” The female medic with the gentle hands turned her face so she could clean the wounds better. 

She didn’t know if it was the movement or what, but all of a sudden, she was going down, hard. The last thing she remembered was the ground rushing up to meet her. Again.

#avengers fluff #avengers fanfiction #avengers fanfic #avengers marvel #avengers fic #steve rogers/reader #steve rogers fanfic #stevebucky #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes #beefy bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #beefy bucky #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky fluff #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x bucky barnes x plus size female character #stucky #stucky x plus size reader #stucky x female reader #stucky fanfiction #steve and bucky #stucky fic

[kdinjenzen]

I'll be honest, while your answer makes sense and I understand what you are saying, I will admit am a bit hurt by the response.

I work in the industry as well. Have for almost 5 years. I got laid off when a giant company decided to pivot to AI development, screwing pretty much everyone on the lowest levels and have only recently regained my barings by having to take the first opening back at the same job because the alternative was worse and employment is a shitshow. I know first hand how fucked all of this is and it stings being told off by someone I respect as if I don't know any better.

That being said, I am sorry for bringing the topic to you. It upset you and I was in the wrong for bringing it up

You asked me, anonymously, where I feel the line is for supporting a cause versus a self indulgent act that directly contradicts supporting that cause for the sake of a selfish personal pleasure.

Here’s the facts. I don’t know you, I don’t know your story, I don’t know if you ever worked in the industry, and I don’t even know if you’re even the same anonymous person who asked the original question that you so claim to be. That’s the problem with the whole “asking something anonymously” thing. You don’t build any rapport in doing so.

But back to the main topic. I have no idea why anyone would assume I would be the person to talk to if you want a simple platitude when it comes to a moral quandary.

You, if it was you, stated that you had a problem with companies using generative Ai (which is all based on stolen works) in their titles and how it has been a huge cause of the massive layoffs we’ve seen in the industry. But then said you still wanted to play a game made by one of those companies who is very loudly and proudly doing so.

Now you say you’re someone directly affected by that exact thing… and you still want to play a game made by one of the companies who is all in on the idea of generative Ai content.

Quite frankly, I don’t believe it for a second. But let’s take it as face value and move on.

If that IS the case then you came to me and expected me to say “oh no, you can play a silly little game from a silly little company who’s just using some silly little generative Ai that sillily steals from artists of all kinds people and sillily crushes their ability to make a living and is sillily laying off people as a way to increase their bottom line.”

Why, in my history of being an advocate for the rights of people, artists, workers, etc would you ever think that I’d say “yeah, go ahead and support the thing hurting people”?

You drew a line and asked me “can I cross my own moral line?” and I pointed out that I cannot make you do anything. You drew that line. You explained that line to me. You said that line was making you feel conflicted. You obviously have a problem with crossing that line yet you still WANT to cross it.

Anon, I dunno what to tell you. It feels like you just wanted me to be the scapegoat to your moral choice so you could blame me for your own desire to cross your moral line, and I am not the person to ask for that.

I like to think of myself as a kind person, but I’m not a person who will lie to you just so you can ignore your own morality.

[romajuliettemai]

A few more SSS incorrect quotes

I haven't posted sss stuff in a while and this has been in my drafts for forever so here we go! (Some of these were edited or created by me & take place in a past timeline- also don't ask why some of the spacings are weird idk)

Silas: Do you cook?

Roma: I made a cake once.

Marshall: Yeah, it was good.

Roma: Really?

Marshall: Don’t make me lie twice, Roma.

Orion: Some people are like slinkies.

Rosalind: What?

Orion: Not really good for much but bring a smile to your face when you push them down the stairs.

Rosalind:

Rosalind: Please don't push Alisa down the stairs.

Orion, pushing Alisa down the stairs: Too late.

Benedikt: You need to stop swearing so much. Oliver: Shut the fuck up. Benedikt: Yeah, that's not how you do it. Oliver: Alright sorry. It's just that it's hard not to swear. The words just creep up on me when I least expect it. Benedikt: Now now, don't be like that. Just replace the swear words with 'beep' and you'll be fine. Oliver: Shit the beep up. Benedikt: Oliver: SHUT, DAMMIT! I MEANT SHUT!

Orion: I've never encountered a problem that can't be solved by an spontaneous musical number.

Juliette: BEHOLD, the field in which I grow my fucks! Lay thine eyes upon it, and thou shalt see that it is barren!

Alisa: Uh, I think I got your lunch. *Holds up a note that reads: ‘I am very proud of you. Love, Orion’* Rosalind: Oh yeah. I didn’t think this was for me. *Holds up a note that reads: ‘Be good. For the love of God, Please be good.’*

Rosalind: I owe you one.

Orion: It's ok, you can just date me and we'll call it even *winks with two eyes*

Alisa, after getting a library card: Now I know what true power feels like. *proceeds to climb on top of the bookshelves*

Roma: Guys, Orion is missing. Celia: Good.

Alisa: I tried to write ‘I'm a functional adult’ but my phone changed it to ‘fictional adult’ and i feel like that’s more accurate.

Orion: Oliver is at that very special age where a kid only has one thing on their mind. Phoebe: Girls? Oliver: Homicide.

Phoebe: Hey! Wanna hear a joke? Silas: Sure. Phoebe: Your life! Silas: Actually, my life isn’t a joke, jokes have meaning. Phoebe: Silas...no.

Orion: Now, if I may speak for good-looking people everywhere... Oliver, rolling his eyes: Only as their rodeo clown.

Benedikt: Celia, we tried things your way. Celia: No, we didn't. Benedikt: I did it in my head and it didn't work.

Roma, clearly exhausted: Did you have to stab them? Future Katherina: You weren’t there. You didn’t hear what they said to me. Roma: What did they say? Future Katherina: "What are you going to do, stab me?" Juliette, calling from the other room while sharpening her knives on a bowl: That’s fair!

Roma, rubbing his forehead, annoyed: In what world?

Alisa: I desire moisture. Oliver: Please just say "I want water" like a normal person.

Silas: You know I think my life has value. Orion: Who are you and what have you done with Silas?!

Sorry for not having posted anything Secret Shangai in a while- just been super busy. Probably not going to be as active on here just because I literally do not have the ability to be- but I'll hop on every so often and check in! Thank you to everyone doing their best to keep the fandom alive, I'll continue to try to contribute to that! <333

#chloe gong #foul heart huntsman #foul lady fortune #secret shanghai #our violent ends #these violent delights #last violent call #secret shanghai finale #secret shanghai series

[xy-nox]

One Hell of a Lawsuit

(Everything here is pretty under explained narrative wise but that’s a future issue..) 2nd Part

————————————

“You’re suing commission?!”

The silence was deafening, all eyes on Brian. “Oh don’t give me those looks. Is this humane?” He said motioning to the muzzle on the other side of the table.

    He paused to take a sip from his canteen, chicken soup just like his dad always makes it. He’d have to thank his brother again for making it. Would also have to make a complaint to commission for jaw pain ‘cause of their little ‘punishment.’ Regardless… “I have rights, not just on earth, but also up here. Section 3 on captivity, subsection 57. ‘Unreasonable restraints aren’t to be used unless the subjected is hostile to those maintaing them.” He flicked out his pocket handbook and slid it across the table. 

Manny picked it up and flipped to the section stopping on a page full of annotations and highlights. “This clause may be ignored if the subjected has committed any of the following crimes in section 4, subsection 1 on unredeemable crime.”

“I’ve sifted through that too,” Brian said putting down the thermos. “I’m redeemable bitches.”

Jov laughed at that. “I might just’ve sued, in solidarity of course, if you weren’t. You started a scuffle,” she said running her hand over a scratch on Brian’s face. “Not the next interplanetary war.”

Manny resumed his place in the handbook after a sip of coffee. “Unreasonable in regards to restraints differs between species. For humans, anything that’ll give us sores, long lasting aches, broken ribs and or other bones. This includes but doesn’t limit to restraints that limit the ability to communicate, breathe, eat or perform other bodily functions due to covering or restriction of the jaw, mouth or nose. This is considered unreasonable without repeated hostility.”

“Wait, wait, wait—“ David said around his food. “It was only the one Iter’cov you beat up, right?”

“Yep. I have no repeated offenses. This case is so damn simple I could defend my-fucking-self.”

“The commission doesn’t often use Earthly systems of law to settle lawsuits because they lose more often than they win.”

Attention shifted to Clojer who shrank in his chair, fluffy ears back and flattened. Brian was more by the day convinced he was an over-evolved house cat.

     Clo continued after a sip of tea. “You’d have a harder time convincing them to let you use the trial by jury system alone as they often involve others as well.”

“Seriously?” What do they usually use to try people?”

“The Rivaelean system is often used after Earthly if the commission wants to be quick about it. With it, your actions and motive are put into a.. pipeline? I think that’s the best way to describe the chart. It sifts through a series of yes’s or no’s and in the end assigns a ‘verdict’ for that action or your motive a point value. For example… ‘Heinous’ is the verdict of the action, of let’s say a stabbing, with a point value of 30. The motive is deemed ‘uncalled for and unprovoked’ assigned a value of 25. The added numbers are higher than 50 so the given punishment is ‘Harsh.’”

The whole table sighed at that. “There’s no wiggle room. You get a bad score on your crime and you’re going straight to the slammer,” Jov said.

“What’s what I did to the Iter’cov count as?”

     Clojer made motions with his hands going down the chart in his head. When he finished, his expression was tight. “Your crime would hypothetically get a score of 10 for excessive harm in defense of another. The maximum you can get and still not have a punishment ‘devoid of temporary restraint or imprisonment,’ is 15. I’m not sure how they’d take your motive though.. it could go either way.”

     Brian considered the numbers and smiled, swiveling in his chair. “So what you’re saying is there’s a chance with Rivaelean and a shoe in if I get Earthen?”

     “In essence,” Clo said excusing himself from the table. Jerizole was yelling about something to do with a faulty wire and electrocution risk so it sounded like lunch break was over.

Manny kept the handbook as he left., silent assurance he’d keep looking into this. It was just him Jov and David.

Dave slumped in his chair with a sigh. “Holy fuck, we’re suing the commission.”

[[This will be continued as soon as I flesh out some more of the chart. It is a WIP at the moment but I want to have more solid numbers before I go in and write how the case goes but I intend to write more about Brian’s friends up till the day of the trial. In addition to this, please excuse any errors regarding our planets confusing ass legal system and terminology regarding it.]]

Next part/related bunch of words

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space oddities #humans are space australians #humans are space orcs #humans are weird #humans and aliens #law for narrative purposes #earth is space australia #earth is a deathworld #original story #humans are space fae #when you sue you higher ups for the lols

[bbygirl-aemond]

i was reading a meta about Rhaenyra's relationship with Harwin Strong and about Criston Cole and HAAAAAAA

In history, who is blamed for the dance, at least in the popular imagination, is Criston Cole the Kingmaker, who didn't like Rhaenyra and convinced brother against sister to fight and consequently ending the Targaryen dynasty

I'm pissed and I don't even like crispin cole that much 😭😭😭

The way that history blames him is so unfair like

oh god don't get me on my little criston soapbox ahaha but long story short i fully agree with you. criston is very bitter and has major anger issues, but it frustrates me how much people take his relationship with rhaenyra at face value rather than acknowleding how problematic it really was. i think it should spark some conversations about the double standards we hold men versus women to when it comes to experiencing sexual assault, because if criston and rhaenyra's genders were reversed i think fans' takes would be very different.

i've made a post here about why criston's ability to consent to rhaenyra was compromised. criston is canonically dornish (= poc, subjected to racism by other characters in the show including harwin), lowborn, and poor, while rhaenyra is valyrian (= white), as highborn as it gets, and super fucking powerful and wealthy. and she coerces him into sex in a situation where she literally holds the power to have him killed (if she accuses him of coming onto her) while he has no power at all. and he only takes this risk reluctantly, and under the false assumption that the sex means something. rhaenyra doesn't do this intentionally, but being oblivious to your power doesn't make it okay when you use it to pressure others into sex under false pretenses. like she just did not consider the implications of the power difference and of how much more criston risked than she did. of fucking course he's bitter, and of fucking course he hates her.

and i've made a post here about how and why criston ended up with the greens. alicent gave him a very real purpose and sense of healing after what happened with rhaenyra. she was one of the only characters to treat him like he wasn't lowborn, dornish, and poor. she entrusted him with herself, and with her children, and literally brought him back from the brink of suicide. of course he loves her, and of course he'll do anything to protect her and her children. he raised those children when viserys would not (think of how many times he rightfully gives viserys the stink eye in the show, there's very much stepdad-esque resentment there). and the political threat to them is very much real (maybe i should make a separate post about this, but there's one here that i think does a good job). honestly, the fact that he was defending them against rhaenyra was probably only a small bonus. obviously he hurts other people, including innocent people, in the name of protecting his loved ones- but like so does literally every other character involved in the dance lmao.

long story short: criston's actions were very much based out of a love and desire to defend the family he'd built, not so much around his hatred of rhaenyra, though that was probably the cherry on top of the cake. i'm not surprised history remembers him so poorly though, given how bigoted westeros is towards dornish, lowborn men like him. because how dare someone actually fight for their position rather than being born into it, am i right?

#ask #asks #answered #hotd #house of the dragon #criston cole #ser criston cole #criston #ser criston #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra #alicent hightower #alicent #hotd meta #meta

[look-at-the-soul]

Hey, Mar!! I'm wondering what you would write for this gif? (Only if you want to and have the time, of course!) 🥰

Hey Lee! Oh I love this gif!! 🥰😍 thank you!!

OMG this is perfect for a one shot @lyarr24 suggested me a couple of weeks ago! Let’s see how this one goes and it’s inspired by Luke Bryan’s song- Do I (Check him out, y’all can thank me later 😍)

Summary: Tommy and you had a fight, now you both have to deal with the consequences of what you said and did.

⚠️ Angst at its finest, sorry! Cheating. Mention of sex

Tommy x Reader -one shot-

Do I

Y/N had been distant, he noticed immediately. He knew her so well, when she said something out of embarrassment, when she truly liked the food, when he said something he shouldn’t, and the list could go on.

But this time, he deliberately decided to not ask what was happening, because deep down he knew.

Things weren’t like they used to be, their relationship reached the breaking point and now there was no turning back. He could only wait for her to get back home.

A week earlier…

“Fuck it!” Smashing the glass of whiskey on the table, part of the liquid made it to the surface and left a wet mark on it. Y/N winced at the harsh sound of his voice. “You should be grateful, but no… you choose to complain.”

“I’m not complaining, I just asked you to step down a little on the betting shop so we could spend more time together.”

“And how exactly do you want to spend time together if you wanna go out and grab a job?” Tommy poured himself more whiskey.

“I want to accept the job offer at the club because all I do is being here alone.” Y/N was surprised to see the ability to down the amber liquid of his glass. She had a job offer at an exclusive male club that only allowed in business men, politicians, lords, it was simple she would just take their names walk them to their table, she would be the welcome face.

“Yeah? Are you sure you’re going to just take ‘em to their table? You’re not going to offer them the menu too?”

Y/N was shocked by his insinuation.

“It’s impossible to talk to you like this.” She looked at the now empty glass of whiskey, was this his third?

Tommy frowned, squinting his eyes he shot. “Like what? Hmm? Go on tell me.”

“What do you want me to say? Just… forget it, I didn’t say anything.”

“Make up your fucking mind, you’re just wasting me time.” He blurted out.

“See? This is why I don’t like talking to you, I prefer to be alone. You’re s-”

“No, now you fucking listen to me.” Tommy interrupted Y/N.

“I’m always listening Tommy, that’s your problem you always want to have the last word.” She raised her voice. “But this time it won’t be your way.”

“Oh great, let’s do everything your way then, what’s your first request?” The look of annoyance he shot in her direction broke her heart.

“And all of this shit was caused because I asked you to spend more time with me and when you said you can’t leave your business in someone else’s hands I told you I wasn’t asking for permission to work… you think I’m not capable of getting a job and support myself?”

Scoffing, Tommy dragged his eyes from her legs and up her body before he talked. “You’re going to need to do more than taking those men to their tables if you think you will be able to support yourself with that salary.” He left the empty glass on the table and turned around.

Y/N couldn’t breathe anymore. Blinking, she looked at him to make sure he wasn’t serious. She wanted to slap him.

“Of course, you’d think I’m just like you huh? Surrounded by whores all the time. Men can also fall on my feet by the snap of my fingers… one day you’re going to wake up to an empty bed and you’ll feel sorry for the rest of your fucking life!”

Y/N’s eyes were filled with tears, the words felt like venom on her lips because she wasn’t like this, she was educated with values, she grew up with the money just for the necessary but he just made her go mad with every thing he was saying.

“What do you fucking mean? Are you gonna leave for good? Hmm? You wouldn’t dare.” He dared to say sarcastically.

“That’s what you want?”

“You know the fucking way out, or do you want me to show you?” Tommy moved his hand dramatically showing her the way she should walk.

His words hurt like a million thorns, she only meant for the night. “I’m done Tommy, for real.”

“There’s the fucking door.” His eyes were popping out of his head, the alcohol made them look red. “You want me to fucking open it for you?!” He pointed at it again and in a few long strides, he was turning the knob around.

“You’re going to regret this so fucking much.”

“Bet ya gonna walk five fucking steps and come back knocking.” He lighted a cigarette and threw the matchstick next to her feet.

“You’re so sure everything works out the way you want, one day you’ll learn you can’t control everything.”

“Are you gonna leave for good? Cos I didn’t ask for your little life advice thank you very much.”

“Watch me.”

The loud bang the door made when she closed the door was heard miles away.

To be honest, he never thought she would actually put a foot outside alone at night. His heart got up to his throat and immediately he felt a wave of guilt running up and down inside of him. Rubbing his face, he dealt with that feeling the only way he knew; he poured himself another glass of whiskey. He wanted to go after her, but it was so late now. All the things he said were out of anger, Arthur accidentally just killed a man and like usual, he had to clean up his brother’s mess.

The following morning Tommy woke up with a terrible headache, he drank beyond his own limits and now he would pay the price. Adjusting his eyes to the daylight, he looked behind him, her side of the bed was empty.

Fuck.

Tommy got up abruptly from the bed and groaned annoyed as he felt a sharp pain ran through his foot, he realized then a bottle of whiskey was broken, he must’ve knocked it down last night. It hurt like a bitch.

Picking his underwear from the floor, he supported his weight on his heel and walked to the bathroom.

The small flat he shared with Y/N felt so empty, they had been living there for almost a year, after two years of visiting her in the living room of her parents’ house, he suggested they finally took the next step and started living together. Now it was silence keeping him company.

After a couple of minutes, he found her tweezers in a drawer, walked to the living room and took a bottle of whiskey to pour some alcohol over the tweezers, it would work as sterilization. Taking off the broken glasses from his skin was more painful than just keeping them there, as he took a big piece he was panting, trying to keep his complaints down. “Fuuuck.” He let the glass inside a cup next to him. Drops of blood were falling to the tiled floor of the kitchen.

He felt as if he was pulling out his own skin every time he took a piece of glass out.

Not being able to stand any more pain, he took a pause, leaning back on the chair he smashed his palm on the table. Blaming himself for this accident and for making Y/N go the way he did, he had been cruel to her and now he regretted everything he had said.

It was an unnecessary fight over something stupid that escalated quickly to a point he never imagined. One of the main problems is that they barely had a fight, but when they did, the argument blew out of proportion.

Tommy heard the front door open and close softly and Y/N made her way in quietly.

For an instant their eyes locked on each other, the apologies they wanted to express showing in their gazes, he didn’t want to feel ever again the heartache that caused his chest to feel tight every time he took a breath.

Y/N’s expression changed when she saw Tommy was hurt. She refused to ask what had happened because it was obvious; he stepped on broken glass. She moved on automatic around the flat, got the bottle of alcohol, clean towels, bandages and some balm for the injuries. Without a word, she took a seat on the floor in front of him, touching his ankle softly, she placed his foot on her lap and started to take out the small pieces of glass embedded in his instep. He winced by the pain while she tried to be careful to not hurt him anymore.

Tommy looked at her features, she had a messy hair which she tried to fix, failing in the process, her makeup smeared, making obvious that she had been crying. All she wanted was to work, that’s all she asked for, to be independent, and he mocked her.

“Try to support your weight on the other foot.” He didn’t notice she was done, he was immersed in her. Y/N got up, wiped her hands and was about to walk out of the kitchen when he spoke.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Her name on his lips sent a burning sensation down his body.

She didn’t say anything, she just gave him a sad look without looking at him in the eyes and a small nod.

****

The following days weren’t too different; they weren’t speaking to each other, there was a broken bridge between them and neither of them were doing anything to try to cross to the other side, let alone try to repair it.

The anger was long gone, now all they had left was the words they both had said out of anger, the saddest part is when they let the alcohol do the talking it’s because somehow, somewhere down the road that’s exactly what they thought but they never said it before.

He missed the sound of her voice and the way she laughed, fuck, he wanted to feel her lips on his again, his fingers through her body…

That’s why he left the betting shop early, he wanted to do his part and apologize for what he said. As he heard the door open, Tommy took a deep breath.

His elbows leaned on the table, while his fingers were intertwined, Tommy turned his head in her direction looked up at her, resting his hands against his chin. She stopped on her tracks at doorframe.

But when he found her eyes, he couldn’t help but notice the sparkle in them was gone, her eyes didn’t light up the way they used to when she looked at him.

“I’m glad you’re home.” He admitted genuinely. “Can we talk, Y/N? Please.”

Her heart broke into million pieces just like the bottle she found in their room the day after their last fight.

Avoiding his eyes, she walked to the opposite side of the kitchen, leaning against the cupboard, she looked at the floor.

“I shouldn’t have mock at you the way I did Y/N, if you want to work I will support you. And I will start coming back home earlier, we can have lunch together if you want.” He started to say and her lower lip trembled uncontrollably, her arms were folded in front of her body, her eyes filled with tears. “I’m sor-”

“Stop it, Tom” she pleaded, her hands now covering her face. “Don’t do this.”

“Y/N.” Tommy got up to take her in his arms but she moved away. “I know I shouldn’t have said those things to you.” She walked to the window, facing outside instead of him. “That was the booze talking, not me.” His hands were on her shoulders.

Tommy felt them shaking and a quiet sob escaped from her.

“You don’t understand.” Slowly Y/N turned around, she was still looking at her hands, her face red by the crying.

“I know you’re angry with me.” He brought his thumbs up to wipe away the tears. Y/N shook her head.

“I crossed the line Tom.” She managed to whisper. And when he moved her chin up and looked in her eyes, he found the same look of guilt he had seen in the past, on himself. “The night we had that fight I went out, drank my soul out, complained to the bartender of our fight and I slept with someone else, it… it meant nothing… I’m sorry.”

They just stared at each other in silence. Suddenly, Y/N felt as if the room was getting smaller and she was running out of breath, walking around Tommy she ran to their room.

All she could do was cry, she shouldn’t have gone to the pub that day alone, the bartender just kept filling her glass, then a man heard her sobbing and mumbling about her selfish boyfriend and started talking so nicely to her, saying the things that Tommy never said, listening like Tommy didn’t do, he always wanted her to go straight to the point… ‘Do you need money? Tell me how much, don’t go explaining about the lavender skirt and top that match the hat you saw on Somerset Street.’ And she started telling this stranger how Tommy never was home before nine and if he was, he would check the numbers of the pub because his brother was lousy with the money. The stranger now knew about Arthur too and repeated several times how this idiot didn’t deserve a girl like her, everything around her started to spin around. He praised on her hands, her earrings, the color of her lips, the drinks were suddenly on his tab and he said something funny, a few minutes later she was in the back of a taxi with him, his hand on her leg and his lips he had a mustache, Tommy was always perfectly shaved. ‘you can call me Tommy if you want’ he had said before he made himself inside of her. He didn’t sound like Tommy, ‘no, wait’ she tried to say, but the words wouldn’t come out. When she woke up the following morning she emptied the contents of her stomach on the floor, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the guilt. She regretted that night so much, it shouldn’t have happened.

And then she found him with his foot injured.

She took a million baths after that, trying to erase his hands from her body and his mouth from her lips. She felt terrible, embarrassed of her behavior, she wasn’t like this, she wasn’t a cheater, she loved Tommy.

But she couldn’t look him in the eyes after what she did. She didn’t know herself anymore. It could have passed twenty minutes or five hours, she didn’t know anymore, he was probably gone by now. She made a mistake.

The room of the bedroom opened and soon Tommy was lying in front of her in the bed, his blue eyes looking at her intensely without an ounce of hate in them.

“I’m sorry.” Y/N sobbed and broke in tears. A thousand apologies wouldn’t be enough.

Tommy could’ve started yelling, breaking things, drinking a whole bottle in minutes, but he couldn’t judge her, he couldn’t point a finger at Y/N when he had three pointing at himself.

He had failed her in the past and all she did was look in another direction and pretend it didn’t happen, she suspected, he never confirmed it, he pushed the affair to the back of his mind, if he didn’t remember it, it never happened. It was once, at the Eden club when a show girl was rubbing against him before his brothers started the fight, back then they was just in a courtship, her family had strict dating rules and they weren’t allowed to go out if they didn’t have one of her sisters as chaperone, he could only see Y/N on Fridays from six to eight, and he was tired of just using his hand to get himself off. The woman followed them outside the club and got in the car with them. The next morning, he was full of regret but he couldn’t take his actions back.

He decided he would never cheat on her again, it wasn’t worth it and she didn’t deserve it.

Now it was different, it was her the unfaithful one, but he couldn’t blame Y/N for it because he said some horrible things to her. She went to get pissed because of him, he was never around, he never listened to her, always busy, making his business the priority, when all that really mattered was right in front of him.

He could be the scariest man in Birmingham but the business, the success, the money, the recognition, it didn’t matter if he didn’t have her. Those hours without her were the worst of his life.

People always have a way to find out of this kind of things, if anyone talked, his reputation would be under the ground… but he didn’t care about any of that, because in those hours he realized what his life would be if she was gone for good. His loneliness flashed through his eyes for a moment, his life without her meant nothing.

“I should probably go now.” She whispered when he said nothing. Wiping her eyes, Y/N tried to get up, but his hand stopped her, making her lie in front of him again.

“I should’ve treated you better, Y/N… I’m sorry for the things I said too, for pushing your buttons the way I did.”

“Tommy…” Her words caught up in her throat. How could he blame himself for what she did?

“Listen to me please.” His strong hand was holding her by the back of her head. “I promise you I won’t drink like that anymore, I won’t raise my voice at you ever again.”

“I never meant to do it, Tommy.” The guilt was eating her alive. “Please forgive me.”

“Can you do the same?” When Tommy saw her nod, his heart felt lighter.

After all words are harder to forget than actions. Because the hardest part wasn’t asking her to forgive him for what he said, the hardest part was to forgive himself.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Y/N whispered. “Don’t do it.”

“Just answer me one question and I don’t ever want to talk about this ever again.” He cupped her face in both hands as if she was the most precious treasure. “Do we get to give this one more chance?”

“I think…” Y/N began to say, placing her hand on his heart. “There are two kinds of forgiveness… the kind that when you forgive and you’re also giving them another chance, or the one where you forgive but you move on without them…”

Do I have your love? Am I still enough? Tell me don't I? Or tell me, do I, baby. Give you everything that you ever wanted? Would you rather just turn away and leave me lonely?Do I just need to give up and get on with my life? Tell me, baby do I get one more try? Do I? Baby, do I?

Holding his breath, he asked: “Which one do you choose?”

Slowly, Tommy saw a small smile appearing in her lips.

“I choose you, over everything.”

Because forgiveness isn’t approving what happened. It’s choosing to rise above it.

****

A/N: Quote by Robin Sharma

Remember, if you like this story, your comments keep me going 🤗💖

#That’s what Cill said #cillian murphy #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #cillian murphy imagine #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagine

[lowkeyerror]

Young & Capable

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Angsty start

Summary: Youngest member of the Avengers is having a problem being taken seriously. When she takes matters everything seems to implode.

Masterlist

Being an Avenger was like a double-edged sword. While your work saved millions of lives and thousands of citizens respected you, it was hard to find that same respect inside of your team.

It's not like they didn't care about you, moreso that they cared too much. You were younger than them, and they took that too seriously. You felt like they had you in plastic bubble wrap and training wheels.

To make matters even worse, they teased you relentlessly about your crush on Natasha. Everyone knew about it, including Natasha. She even hit you with the' I'm too old for you' line.

It was ridiculous. You were a strong, capable member of this time, and you were tired of waiting for them to see that. So slowly, but surely you began distancing yourself from the team.

You woke up a little earlier for your workouts, cooked your own meals, spent hours studying footage of the greatest combat masters of all time.

Natasha commented on the change in passing," You're bulking up."

You nodded and continued on your way," Yep."

Instead of leaving you, the redhead followed you," Your suit's going to need to be redesigned if you keep going."

Again, you nod," I've already sent the plans to Bruce and Tony."

Her eyebrows knitted together," You did the design yourself?"

You sigh," Ya, I always design my own stuff. I know my body better than they do. Did you want something, Nat?"

The woman cleared her expression," No, I was just checking on you. I feel like you've been pulling away."

You stop in your tracks and look at the shorter woman," I'm just trying to be the best version of myself. The one that is completely capable of doing anything anyone else on the team can do."

Natasha felt like that was the first time she had actually seen you. Your jaw was set, your eyes were determined, you really meant what you said. She found her eyes traveling lower, your newly built body had caught her attention.

" You don't have to prove yourself to anyone, you know that right," Natasha says.

You shake your head," It doesn't feel like that."

She stood there puzzled as you kept walking. Had the team really made you question your value that much?

Soon, the others also began to notice the changes in you. They were worried about you and tried to bring it up multiple times, but you just brushed them away.

It came to the point where Tony had called a team meeting as a sort of intervention for you.

" Kid, what's been going on with you lately?"

You rolled your eyes," If this is what I think it is, I'm not playing this game?"

" Y/n we are worried about you?" Wanda said her demeanor was soft.

You couldn't help but raise your voice," Why? There's nothing wrong with me. I'm smarter, stronger, and faster than I have ever been. So what exactly is the issue? I'm at peak performance. No more comments about my missions, no more doubts in my abilities, and stop fucking calling me kid."

They all went wide-eyed at your outburst. They'd seen you frustrated before, but never mad like this.

" You just changed, so suddenly we wanted to make sure you were alright, that's all," the worry hadn't left Steve's eyes at all.

They all had that look on their face; mixtures of worry and pity. It was as if you were some kind of charity case. You couldn't take it anymore.

You slowly stood up and calmly spoke," I quit."

If the room wasn't silent before, it was now. Everyone was in shock. You walked out of the door and subsequently out of the building.

You were done with whatever this was. In your mind, you knew you deserved better than this. You deserved to be taken seriously.

" Y/n wait," Natasha's voice stopped you in your tracks. Your harsh glare didn't faze her," You can't quit."

" I just did, Natasha."

She grabs hold of one of your hands. Your eyes linger on the spot before meeting her eyes again.

"You took an oath to protect the world."

" I can do that without the Avengers," you try to snatch your hand away, but her grip tightens.

" You're being childish."

You scoff, then successfully remove your hand from hers. The way your eyes glared into hers was startling.

" Well, maybe if everyone in there stopped treating me like a fucking child, I wouldn't act this way."

You tried to storm off again, but Natasha pulled you back. With some skillful maneuvering, you were able to get away from her again.

" Can't you just talk to me?"

You deflate," What do you want me to say, Nat? I don't feel like an equal on this team. Everyone babies me because I'm the youngest. I was hired for this job just like everyone else, my skill set speaks for itself. I'm not a rookie, and I never was. I worked my ass off for this and every time someone tries to explain something I've known for years it pisses me off."

Natasha understands your frustrations, and she hates that she was part of the problem. Before your transformation, she did think of you as just some young kid trying to be a hero.

But she was wrong. You were an adult, in your early 20s, but adult nonetheless. You knew the ropes as you ran them, just like everyone else.

" I'm sorry, I should've done better. The team should've done better, but please come home. I'll make sure you're treated right from now on. We just need another chance."

You were hesitant to agree," I don't know, Nat."

" I don't want to lose you," her gaze shifted to the ground.

You felt the back of your neck heat up and your mouth fall agape," What?"

Natasha was close, closer than she'd ever been before. Her green eyes pierced through yours. Your heart was going to explode.

" I don't want to lose you, Y/n."

You refused to believe what was happening," This isn't going to work on me, Natasha. I- I know what you're doing."

" I don't think you do."

Against your better judgment, you rested your hands on her waist," You're trying to get me to stay by pretending you've got this sudden interest in me."

Natasha's arms flung around your neck," Or I could just have a sudden interest in you."

" That's not how this works."

She raised an eyebrow," Isn't it? The main character never realizes that the perfect person for them is right in front of them until they might not be there anymore."

" Natasha-"

" When I saw you in the hall that day, it was like I was seeing you for the first time. The way you spoke, the way you looked, you weren't just my younger teammate anymore. You were Y/n, and I should've seen Y/n a long time ago."

Natasha tried to pull away, but this time it was you keeping her in place," Do you really mean that?"

The former assassin nodded.

You could feel her heart beating, or maybe it was just yours, but it gave you a surging of courage. You kissed her and kissed you back. Your grip on her waist tightened, not completely convinced that this wasn't a dream.

" I never thought I'd get to do that," you smiled at her as a pink blush took over her cheeks.

" I wouldn't be mad if you wanted to do it again," Natasha replied.

You simply pecked her lips before taking on a stern look," If I go back in there, things have to be different."

" They will be," Natasha promised.

You took her hand in yours," Let's go then."

The two of you walked back to the complex hand in hand. Natasha didn't drop your hand when you were in front of everyone else.

" Look, I'm the youngest here, but that doesn't mean I'm a baby. We're equals, and I need you guys to stop treating me like we aren't. Understood?"

There are a few mumbles of understanding throughout the groups, as well as some apologies.

Thor comments," You two are holding hands."

That regains everyone's attention. You're about to speak, but Natasha beats you to it," It's none of your business."

With that, she yanks you away from the group. You shrug and laugh as Natasha basically shoves you into her room.

" So what now?"

Natasha makes herself comfortable on the bed and gestures for you to do the same," Now we cuddle and watch tv."

That was exactly what you did.

Having finally felt like you had the respect of your teammates was one thing, but having Natasha in your arms was an entirely different satisfaction.

#lowkeyerror #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #the avengers #Tony Stark #wanda maximoff #steve rogers

[hell-drabbles]

Alright no idea what to talk about but I just wanted to tell this niche little things

In Beel's attack of kings prologue story he talks about a shop that allows people to change genders

And honestly I have never wanted to be somewhere more then that

Anyways I had something to say about embittered companion and angel companion but I'm still thinking it out rn

And also this au idea was for a obey me au

But essentially think of a au where the devils can sacrifice Solomon's descendant to bring back Solomon

I don't know

I feel like the demons would do so without regret if there was a choice to do so

Dante Anon

Huh, that sounds like fun. And take your time with your thinking, I too am taking my time. But that's because I've been groggy.

I probably wouldn't call it changing genders so much as customizing your own body, almost build-a-bear style, just so there's a plethora of options that isn't just limited to what is perceived as female and male by the masses. Don't want to change anything about your dick but want to have the biggest of knockers? Go right ahead. Want a pussy but don't want anything else? Go right on ahead buddy. Want the stuff to be temporary or permanent? You can choose so. Lot of little options, might be overwhelming to a beginner so there might be sampler packages to start them right off.

Also sorry for not being all that active, immune system went a little into overdrive and became convinced I was infected with something and gave me the old fever and chills combo. And then I started showing signs of hives and low blood pressure and almost whited out just trying to look for some medication but I'm doing better now. It's my own fault really, I haven't been eating well at all.

And hohoho, that certainly sounds like an interesting au, though I can only imagine it as a series of one-shots rather than something I can expand. Curse my limited imagination! Solomon's descendant over is pretty much engrossed in this paradise that they're in. They're being fucked however they liked, they're indulging in new and weird kinks just about every day, and the devils give them all the love and affirmation that they could possibly want! Which, eventually, leads to them forgetting that they're devils. They've been projecting their own human elements upon the devils, and often forget just how fickle and childish they can be.

So, when the opportunity comes that Solomon can be brought back with this sacrifice, of course they take it. And that would slap the descendant right in the face, a dose of reality that they have entirely forgotten was possible. Funny too, because I would imagine this all happens right after the descendant has abandoned their home back on Earth.

I just like the thought of the descendant being smacked in the face that these devils have different values and different ways of expressing themselves, that their ability to love and fuck isn't reserved to just the descendant like they want it to be. I just like being cruel to them. Seriously, out of all the self insert protagonists, there's something about them that just...ticks me off. They just remind me of all the male eroge protagonists that I've ever played. They're all horny to atmosphere-deafness, they're all dumb as fuck, and they all make me feel second hand embarrassment just reading about them as they bumble their way into dick or pussy because they showed the barest of kindness. The fact they can be female does not absolve my feelings towards them.

But, instead of getting rid of that personality all together, I want to commit to it and see what kind of person it ends up creating. Just, how big of a mess would this person be with these kinds of traits interacting in Hell, in a place that does not put sex and love in the same category. Any descendant that is easily jealous of other devils fucking one another is not going to survive down here. I know there are devils that want to fuck one person only, but that was so hamfisted in there to placate the audience that I don't consider it canon. Nor do I consider the "some devils can lie" canon. They can be tricky with their words, intentionally misleading, but lying outright they cannot do.

But anyways, this kind of au would force Solomon to also shift his perspective on the devils, since he seems to believe that they're all innocent. He infantilizes them, simply put, and that will also come biting him in the ass because, simply put, they're devils. Indulgent in their sins, no restrictions to be found.

But yeah, that be my thoughts. The angels and devils, as they are now, are just too human for me, you know? But ah, I'm just repeating myself. Sorry about that.

#admin #dante.anon

[rottingcorps3s]

"Mistaken Friendship" Part 4 - S.R.

Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader (they/them pronouns and no identifying features are used)

Simon is put off by how friendly the local barista is and hurts their feelings when he turns down their ‘friendship’ he refused to admit that they had.

Rating: 13+

Word Count: 1.1k ish

A/N: Last past is here :)) Hope you enjoy, kinda angsty, but in my opinion, I think this kind of ending fits better with Simon's character. Might consider doing a super short epilogue type thing, let me know if you'd be interested!

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

It had been around a month later and Simon was finally able to return to his apartment. It was well into the late hours of the night when he had finally arrived, throwing his gear and belongings onto the living room floor before taking his place on the couch. His exhaustion was evident, ask any random stranger to take one look at him and they’d all tell you the same thing. Fuck, he needs a nap. In which he would agree with that statement, but knowing Simon he would not follow through. He avoided sleeping to the best of his ability, this was a known fact about him. The amount of people that asked the question, does Ghost sleep? And each time it was followed with a swift nope. He runs on pure adrenaline and coffee.

Coffee.

The last interaction at the café at once crossed his mind at the thought of coffee. It remained in his memory while he was out on the job, but he had quickly pushed it to the side. The last thing he needed to think about was how confused they looked that he had blatantly disregarded any past interactions they had. The fact that he had gone out of this way to purposely order a drink he would never dare to drink in any other circumstance. May God strike him down from the heavens for ordering a coffee with…cream; he shuttered at the thought. The look in their eyes reminded him somewhat of a wounded animal, cornered in by the hulking man and using their best puppy dog eyes to avoid confrontation. At first he was confused by their reaction; who would want to be associated with someone like Simon to begin with? Emotional baggage, night terrors and maybe the fact that he was quite literally a licensed murderer, but they didn’t know that. They had taken him at face value, trusting him and creating a one-sided friendship with him that he never had the intention of returning. They had greeted him with a warm smile every time, had memorized his name and his drink (given that it was basic as fuck), and would chat with him as he would sit in the corner in the large armchair, and they would just talk. About anything. And they never once expected him to share his life in return, which is exactly what he wanted.

A friendship. Simon wanted a friendship, and he had majorly fucked over his chance at having one because he refused to admit that anyone would want to be friends with him to begin with.

Fuck.

-

The bell ringing above the door caught their attention instantly. They had the perfect view of the front from where they stood behind the counter, slightly crouched over as they continued to stock the mini fridge. The person walking in, however, had yet to notice their presence as they were hidden almost perfectly from their sight. Their blood ran cold at the realization of who had walked into the store, in that moment they considered dropping down to the tiled floor and army crawling their way to the back room and turning the lights off and prayed that he would just maybe get the hint. But no, they refused to give him that satisfaction. They quickly popped up from their position, and came face to face with him as he approached the counter, just like he always had.

“Hello.” They said curtly, a half-smile appearing quickly and disappearing just as fast.

Simon nodded once in response. Typical.

“What’s the name?” They asked in retaliation, grabbing one of the paper cups next to them.

Simon froze at their question, taken aback by their bluntness. He had to admit, it did sting a little; being treated as if he never existed to them to begin with. Now I know how they feel, he thought. He still had yet to answer their question, only being able to stare blankly at them as they shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

“I don’t have all day.” They said.

Ouch.

“Um,” now it was his turn to stutter, “Simon.” He finally answered.

“What do you want?” they asked again, half-heartedly writing his name on the cup and turning their attention back to him.; their gaze burning into his own and he quickly averted his eyes to the menu behind them to avoid making eye contact.

“Just, uh,” he hesitated, “americano. Black.” They nodded in response, saying nothing else as they turned away from him and quickly began making his drink. Simon sighed deeply to himself. The silence that surrounded them only made the tension grow. This was the moment where they would usually be chatting him up, just like any other day, telling him about different costumers that walked in, the ridiculous drinks that some people had ordered and how many days it had been since Simon last showed up; making snarky comments about how the time in between was getting shorter and shorter. In which Simon would simply nod in response. He was well aware of it, but his late-night visits really did a number to help him forget about his night terrors. They had finally turned back around, drink in hand as they sat down in front of him. Simon noticing the lack of heart over the ‘I’ in his name.

“4.50.” They said, which Simon obliged by handing the money over to them. They were quick to throw it in the cash drawer and slam it shut; eyes boring into his own.

“Have a good one.” They said before turning around and continuing the job they were doing before he had walked in. No cheery smile, no sweet sounding goodbye, no ‘see you in X amount of days’ comment made.

Nothing.

Simon was quick to leave without another word, not trusting himself to say anything as he struggled to come up with he correct words to say. The bell rang above the door once again, alerting them that he was in fact gone and they were able to relax. A deep sigh left their lungs as they finished the work they were doing and stood back up. Their eyes lingered by the front door for a moment, the door he had just walked out of; their heart aching at the thought of that being the last time they may encounter each other again. They hoped it wasn’t.

They diverted their gaze back to the front counter again, noticing something out of place that was not there before Simon had walked in. A piece of paper. A folded-up piece of paper. A letter. They were quick to snatch up the object and quickly unfolded it.

I’m sorry.

I hope we can be friends…again.

- Simon ♡

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod ghost #cod modern warfare #modern warefare 2 #call of duty