#i’ve undoubtedly missed something but my point still stands

[iceicewifey]

💜 happy intl women’s day to queer women, trans women, black women, indigenous women, asian women, latin women, jewish women, muslim women, women of mixed faiths, non religious women, fat women, underweight women & women struggling with body image, women struggling with addiction, women that have a complicated relationship with gender and the word ‘woman’, gender nonconforming women, women that use pronouns other than she/her, women that are unhoused or displaced, women that self ship, women that draw, women that write, women that create, and women that struggle to find their creative outlet.

happy intl women’s day to women in palestine, in sudan, in yemen, in the congo, and everywhere else in the world.

happy intl womens days to all women.

#international women's day #haven’t seen a post like this today and i’m sure there’s one floating out there somewhere but wanted to make my own :x #i’ve undoubtedly missed something but my point still stands #i love you women!!! #spankz chat #edited to add some i’m embarrassed about forgetting

[moral-terpitude]

Misadventures - Part 6.5

A/N: not what I thought I would be posting tonight, but I’ve determined some flashbacks may be interesting, and it just feels fitting to introduce a friend of Quinn’s back home before we see him some more.

There’s nothing you’ll miss if you skip it before I post chapter 7, and I don’t blame you because there’s no Tommy in this chapter🤷🏼‍♀️ also I’ve been trying to find ways to include songs from The Jaws of Life, and apparently flashbacks are going to be it 😂 ft. an old project I drew (and my handwriting has apparently not changed much.)

Summary: It’s early April 2020 and Quinn is not handling COVID lockdown well.

[Masterlist] [Series Masterlist]

cigarettes on a dark, bent highway • follow you from a distance like • demons in a dеath machine • I feel your stomach tightening

“Quinn, are you okay?”

She sighed, sipping from the coffee mug, feet tucked under her on the couch.

“I don’t know, Hannah.” Quinn sat the mug down, closing her iPad as she leaned back in the cushions of the couch, “I hate feeling helpless like this. I can't even turn the tv on because I can't stand watching the news.”

“You never usually watch the news.” Hannah shook her head, sitting on the steps from the kitchen to the living room.

“Okay, that’s a fair point. But still. I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to hear about it. I feel like normally, something like this, we would just be drinking right now, and that would occupy more time, but just the thought of it turns my stomach.”

“Listen, we came back in one piece—“

“I don’t remember anything!” She could feel the anger bubbling in her stomach, they had this conversation so many times and each time she felt more and more mad at herself. “I don’t remember what he looks like, I don’t remember if we used a condom, I don’t remember, fuck, I don’t remember if he pulled out. I don’t remember shit. Do you know what that feels like?”

Hannah stared at her blankly. For a fact, she didn’t remember much either.

There had been no intention of attending the Mardi Gras festivities while they were in New Orleans, they didn’t even know it was going on until they were in the thick of it. They had been there only for work, they had said.

Strictly.

A convention in New Orleans weeks ago. Both of them came back sick with no idea what it was.

Quinn felt like she was dying the first few days. A mix of trying to breath through the coughing and trying not to cry for how terrible she felt, she had been a mess.

“I should have just went back to Michifan, as soon as we came back, my dad said it was going to get bad, and if we wanted to we could go back to the cabin, or come stay there, but no, here I thought,” tears started to well in her eyes as she tried to choke them back, “that we’d be fine and that everything would die down, and now, we’re sitting here without fucking jobs at the moment!”

Hannah swallowed thickly. This wasn’t the first outburst Quinn had in the last few weeks and she was sure it wouldn’t be the last.

She had been undoubtedly cranky. Calls from the state health department about shutting down weren’t even what had irritated her the most.

It was other artists who just thought they didn’t have to listen and could do whatever they wanted.

“Chris wanted me to stay open and eat the fucking fine from the state. Said if we all chipped in that it wouldn’t be so bad. He had a fit when I said I wouldn’t do it. I feel like I’ve personally put everyone out of work and I hate it.”

She sighed, keeping another sob from wracking through her as she buried her head in her hands, bare faced and rubbing at the tears stuck in her lashes, she finally felt a sense of relief at letting it all out.

“Quinn, I think you just need to go to bed. You look exhausted.”

“I haven’t done anything! Why should I fucking be exhausted, Hannah. I’ve sat here, all day, a little ball of stress in my pajamas, trying to find a way to make some god damn money for everyone while the shop is closed! People aren’t working, so they don’t have extra money to spend—“

“I am sure, if it goes on any longer, there will be money from the government, or something. Dead ass. You just need to chill. Dante said they’re fine, Chris is just frontin’, he has money stashed, and, it’s good. We’ll all be good. Just take a breather. Periodt.”

Quinn smiled, the tiny ponytail on top of Hannah’s head bobbing as she talked was enough to send her over the edge for a laugh. She knew if she busted out a “Periodt,” she was better off not arguing with her.

“Fine. I will go to bed. But I am not going to sleep.”

“Don’t tell me you’re starting Buffy again.”

“No; I just finished it the other day. I can’t do a rewatch that quick.”

Dragging the comforter along behind her, arms full with water bottles and her iPad she schlepped past Hannah to her room, an awkward goodnight exchanged between the two of them before Quinn shut the door with a click.

If she wanted to, she could rent a car. Drive back home. But how could she? Abandon all her duties to her employees and coworkers by not staying around and trying to figure something out?

It wasn’t right.

The bubbling sound of her phone ringing as she stared at the blank screen was taunting her. How could her best friend not answer her at a time like this?

“Quinn, it is ten at night, what are you requiring of me at this hour?”

Dalton crammed his glasses back on his face as Quinn pulled the blanket up to her chin, burrowed in her bed. Sandy hair askew with a hood pulled up over his head. Bleary eyes struggling to focus.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Blondie.”

“Oh shut up. It looks terrible doesn’t?” She ran her fingers through the light hair, probably needs a good wash.

“Quinn your roots are grown out and it’s the first time I’ve seen your hair faded in years, so yeah, it looks terrible. But I know that’s not why you’re calling me.”

“How are you guys holding up?”

He shrugged, “Jay is at work. He’s barely been home. Slept at the hospital a couple of nights because they just can't get caught up. I’ve been staying at the studio so that he can rest when he is home. He doesn’t want to get anyone sick from bringing something home from work, so, I’m bored as fuck and haven’t had good head in fucking weeks.”

Quinn laughed, a smile fighting its way onto her face despite her tear stained cheeks.

“There we go,” Dalton laughed, dog barking in the background, before he continued, “Okay, mama, are you gonna tell me what’s wrong, or do I have to dig it out of you?”

Quinn sighed, rubbing at her eyebrow as she thought. “I think I did something terrible, Dee.”

“Well, you’re here to tell the tale, and also not in jail, so how terrible could it be?”

“It’s not funny.”

“I’m not laughing, I’m just stating the facts here, babe. What happened?”

“I think I finally reached my limit. I…” she sighed. There had never in their entire friendship been anything that Quinn had been embarrassed to tell Dalton.

“Have you ever just…drank enough that you left a bar with some random and come to, like, a few days later?”

“Days?! Quinn. A few days later?!”

“Yeah.”

“No, I haven’t ever came out of a blackout days later!”

“Well, it’s not the first time. I think I’ve been working through it, Hannah hasn’t even noticed, but I know I left a bar in New Orleans with a guy. I remember bits and pieces. Nothing that tells me anything. Maybe a few seconds of waiting for an Uber and I feel like I’m making that up to just try and find something to grasp at.”

“Mama, that’s fucking called alcoholism. You are a functioning alcoholic.”

Quinn stared at him through the camera, letting the words sink in. She had assumed that was the route she was headed down, but to think she had already went that far? Had it really been that bad?

“You are using alcohol to cope with—“

“Do not bring him up!—“

Dalton softened his tone before continuing, “what happened to you, and I don’t recommend it. You need to quit before—“

“I haven’t been drinking. I swear on my life. I started weaning myself off of shit when we got back. I figured it was bad when I had the bottles under the bed, but I didn’t realize how many there were.”

“Quinn, detoxing at home will fucking kill you.”

“Well I did it. Okay? It’s done. I dumped it all down the toilet, and now we’re all stuck in our houses like caged fucking animals with nothing to do!”

Dalton sighed, sitting up on the couch, rubbing his eye beneath his glasses, “Have you went and got tested?”

“No. I don’t know what’s open. I haven’t looked.”

“Okay, I think you haven’t looked because you don’t want to know. I think doing that will bring you some peace of mind. Do that, take a breather. I don’t think you need to try and remember anything.” He shook his head, “You’ve…informed me of some of your escapades and while I’m sure it’s not the safest thing, you’ve coped. You’ve moved on.”

“You sound like my therapist.” She sighed, wriggling around in the blankets in hopes of sticking a foot out the side to cool down.

“Right now I'm your therapist, Quinn.” He sighed, “if you can’t keep doing it. Don’t. You don’t have to drink. I think it’ll be easier than you think. You’ll feel better, that’s for sure.”

“I think I’ve lost like 10 pounds already.”

“Well, yeah, that’ll happen.”

She took a deep breath, finally feeling like her lungs were able to fill with air, “I think I feel better.”

“You were probably having an anxiety attack. It’s not uncommon. Everyone has been turned on their head the last few weeks. Just take some time to rest. I think your body needs it.”

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“Ugh, you look like you need a hug, you little touch starved muppet. When this is all over, I’m coming to see you.”

“It’s just so boring being just Hannah and I. Like, not to be rude, but I think we’ve told each other our life stories three times over.”

“You told her?”

“Okay, maybe not everything. I don’t particularly like advertising that I’m damaged goods.”

“Mama, you are not damaged goods. I swear if you don’t quit. You’re a fucking gem. I think you need to get a pet or something. Adopt a cat. Around here they’re trying to clear out the shelters so they’re waiving adoption fees.”

“I said after Penny I’d never get another cat,” she whispered, eyes welling up just at the thought of losing her.

“Okay, well, you need to go to sleep before you keep crying and I need to go to sleep before I keep putting my foot in my mouth by the scenic route of my asshole. Goodnight, Quinn.”

“ ‘Night, Dee.”

A cat, she pondered, tossing her phone on the bedside table, it might be worth a shot.

#misadventures #quinn meyer #modern tommy shelby #modern tommy shelby x oc #tommy x oc #tommy shelby x oc #modern!tommy shelby #modern day au #modern au #tommy x quinn #tommy shelby fanfic #modern!tommy #fanfic #fanfiction #backstory

[realcleverscience]

AI, Automation, Jobs, and the Every-Skill Worker

Been thinking a lot about AI in light of recent successes like stable diffusion and chatgpt, and how it seems we’re undoubtedly approaching the technological singularity, where science and technology is growing exponentially fast.

I am extremely concerned about the short-term implications and potential for mass layoffs. If we get AIs that can suddenly do, say, 85% of a job, it makes it easier for companies to lay off 85% of the people doing those jobs.

So what will people do?

I think one of the few things working in human’s favor right now is the difference between AI and Robotics. While both are improving at extraordinary rates (esp with AI helping robotics), AIs are a lot cheaper than robotics because it’s just code. You can duplicate code endlessly for almost zero cost. In contrast, robots are machines, which not only require code, but also lots of physical resources and face physical risks.

In short, even though we don’t yet have robots that are very good at picking up diverse objects, we’ll definitely get to that point soon. However, people are just as good as robots at many of these tasks. So considering the costs of robots, esp general purpose robots, not to mention lag in true AI to problem solve... I could see a scenario where humans and AI work together, instead of just robots and AI.

In particular, I could see AI and augmented reality creating a new class of “every skill worker”. For example, let’s talk about changing a tire. I’ve personally only done it once, years ago. I had no idea what I was doing. My dad helped guide me through the process, standing at the side, giving instructions. And voila, a car idiot like me was able to change a tire. Most of us could *physically* do LOTS of “skilled” jobs if we were just following step by step directions from a mentor right next to us. The problem is how to get those directions. These days, a lot of people go to places like youtube to watch lessons on how to do skilled jobs, like, say, fixing a broken washing machine or reprogramming a buggy piece of tech. The drawback, of course, is that it’s not catered to each person and their particular needs. It also doesn’t provide feedback like, “hey, make sure to screw that extra tight” or “I noticed you forgot to do xyz”. But imagine an AI that works with AR to be your guide. For instance, many people have been writing about how it feels like they’re working with a partner when they code with chatgpt. Imagine something like that but a program that can see and recognize what you’re doing. It can give step by step directions, see what step you’re on, see if you missed something, and provide visual guides for each step on the ar display.

This could mean that any half-intelligent person could be dropped into any number of complex skilled jobs and be able to just get started. Imagine a temp agency where one day you’re dropped into a washing machine factory or fixing a car, or installing advanced technology on day 1.

I know we haven’t heard much about AR in a while (this post feels like me getting excited about Google Glass 10 years too late... or too early?), but I think it could still prove a useful tool once its ready for prime time. Additionally, I want to note that robots will still be used in many and increasing roles, but I think there may be some where just hiring a person is just as economical, especially if AI and a depression cause some economic changes. E.g. There could be changes which lower wages without lowering quality of life, and which could make humans more economical. For instance, if we instituted a UBI, lower wages wouldn’t really matter. If we automated a lot of expensive services (esp education and medicine), this could lower cost of living and bring down wages. And of course, wages can be lower *with* a lower quality of life, such as mass layoffs and a depression due to AI.

Sooo... while I certainly have my preference for how I’d like to see things evolve, my main point here is that there *could* be a role for a humans, and that AI and VR could give everyone “super skills”. And hey, outside the dread of staying alive in an advanced-AI capitalist system - it’d be pretty cool to be able to do just about anything.

#a.i. #a.r. #economics #science #automation

[for-fucks-sake-h]

La Paloma

A/N: A story in which Harry’s cocky talk is about the only thing he can lay on thick. Otherwise known as the realistic sex blurb! In the midst of a lot of smut on this website (myself included) I wanted to do something a little different than “sex god Harry Styles” and show a side of sex that is actually real and common and I think... funny! Thank you to my girls @oh-honey-styles​ @andwhenshesays​ @real-work-of-art​ @haute-romance-quotidienne​ for always encouraging the madness. Happy reading! x 

Word Count: 3.8k || Rated: M (mature), for implied smut, shit talking and a floppy disappointment! 

“Can’t wait to get you home,” he murmured in your ear, his warm breath sending a chill down your neck despite yourself.  

You were surrounded by people, who if they overheard anything he had whispered in your ear, you would have been mortified. Warmth spread to your cheeks as you lifted your shoulder to urge his face away from yours, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth as his toned, pink, silk covered front pressed closer to your side.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ sexy.” His palm made its ridiculously slow course of direction from your opposite shoulder, all the way down your spine, until he could grip your hip tightly to keep you close.  You could smell the tequila oozing from his pores, one (or three) too many La Paloma’s if had any sense of it. “Have I told you that tonight?”

“You did tell me,” you confirmed quietly, turning your head to look at him. “A few times, actually.”  

“Tell ya again,” he urged quickly, his hand squeezing your hip once more. “You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.” His voice was slow, the alcohol coating his throat into a subtle rasp. “Never wanted anyone more than you.”  

He was persistent, if anything. And horny. He made that abundantly clear as his intricately patterned hips ticked forward, his groin pressed tightly against the top of your thigh. He crowded every inch of your space, a few random twists of his hair tickling your temple, the silk of his shirt tickling your skin entirely too softly, the subtle hardness of his undeniably impressive length ready and waiting for you.  If you had let him, he would have snuck you into a closet, an earshot away from your distant relatives that attended your cousin's wedding alongside you.  

Your blood boiled with it though; that need, the utter desire you felt deep in your belly.  You almost gave in, almost let him lead you away, almost risked the embarrassment of being the subject of your family's gossip when someone undoubtedly caught you. You didn’t, clearly, what with the way the last hour had been a torturous form of foreplay.  

“H,” you warned, glancing behind him with a timid smile as one of your uncles approached the other end of the bar.  

You were standing just off to the side, in a tiny little nook that had no business being large enough to fit both your bodies. You weren’t even sure how you got there, your mind fuzzy from both your drinks and your boyfriend.  But there you were, listening to the deep timbre of his voice recite, in detail, what he planned to do once he got you alone.  

“What? I can’t love on you?” he faked innocence.  

You laughed softly. “You can if you keep it PG.”   

“Guess that depends,” he pondered with a slow drawl, “does making you come on my face fall under the PG category?”

A dramaticized roll of your eyes had him playfully giggling against your cheek. “Definitely not,” you sighed with a smile.  

“No can do then.”  

“Harry--”  

“Y’drive me crazy, you know that?”

“Feelings mutual,” you chuckled dryly.  

“The worst part... is that I know exactly what’s waiting for me.” His voice lowered, his lips just barely skimming over the corner of your jaw, warm breath caressing your skin once more. “I know you’re wet, and it’s fucking killing me.”  

You were wet, uncomfortably so, and this man did nothing to quell it. If anything, he went out of his way to intensify it. You didn’t miss the way his fingers toyed with his bottom lip periodically throughout the evening, or the way he walked dick first back to you from retrieving drinks in perfectly tailored pants, or that his hands always found purchase on you somewhere; your thigh during the ceremony, your shoulder throughout speeches, the small of your back as he slow danced with you. He kept you close at all times, the warmth of his palm searing into your skin at any given moment.  

You downed the mouthful left in your glass as a distraction, his hooded eyes burning a hole in your face as he watched, his thumb toying with the material of your dress.

“I can’t stop thinking about it, love,” he rasped. “Sinking into you.” He somehow felt closer. “Feeling you clench down on me the way you do.” His hand squeezed your hip. “Hearing you moan my name.” He swallowed harshly, Adam’s apple bobbing out of the corner of your eye. “Watching you come…” he exhaled. “It’s so fucking good.”

There was a moan sitting at the bottom of your throat, begging to escape with every passing word.

“You always feel so good. I just want you on me, wanna be so deep I can’t breathe. It’s like… heaven.”

“Take me home,” you murmured breathlessly.

***

“I want you so bad.”  The whine slipped up your throat, passing Harry’s lips where they were pressed to the delicate skin of your neck.  

When you gave him the green light to leave the reception, you’d never seen him move faster - giving his well wishes and goodbye kisses to everyone that mattered at warped speed. His affection didn’t let up in the car, a warm palm dipping entirely too far between your legs in the back of that town car for you to focus on anything but him.

You both had stumbled through the house as best you could, tugging each other's clothes off on the way, until you were in your bedroom, hands caressing the silk of his broad shoulders as he pulled you closer. His skin was warm against yours, tingles coursing through your veins at his touch. You could hear his panting breath just as much as you could feel it fanning out over your skin between the burning kisses his mouth left behind.  

“That was the longest wedding I’ve ever been to,” he murmured barely audibly as he followed your careless guide towards the bed. “Felt like I was going to explode.”    

Your chuckle was soft as the backs of your legs met the edge of the bed, keeping a tight hold on him as you both fell onto the soft pillow top. He was heavily pressing you into the mattress, quickly slotting himself between your thighs. You pulled him in by the back of his neck, your mouth finding his with a deep kiss, the tiny bit of stubble on his face a stark contrast to the soft skin of his neck.  

He pressed his hips into yours roughly, practically grinding against your core.  The hardness you felt against your hip at the wedding had subsided, the car ride home seemingly giving him time to calm down. But now you wanted him.  

“I’m so wet,” you whispered, eager to feel him after so much build up throughout the night.  

He pulled back just so, a dimple barely forming into his cheek. “Can feel that,” he slurred, the words forming together in one drawn out breath.  

You leaned up to press a kiss to the corner of his puffy mouth, your lips finding their way down his jaw and neck. His hand smoothed down your thigh, squeezing roughly as he pulsed his hips against yours once more. His lips barely made contact with your skin, light kisses being pressed to your chest and neck. He was right there, not even half hard against the apex of your thigh. 

Harry enjoyed himself at the wedding - had his fair share of drinks. You both did, a delightful buzz coursing through your veins as well. You and your boyfriend were very similar that way, equally handsy and eager to be alone once you hit a certain point. It’s more fun being tipsy and horny when you’re in love with each other.  

“You okay?” you asked softly at his ear, feeling his shaky breath against the side of your neck.  

“Mhm,” he hummed, pressing a sloppy kiss to your clammy skin.  “Just give me a minute…” his words trailed off as he pushed himself up on one hand while the other slipped around his cock, giving himself a few slow strokes. And it was a sight to see; watching him play with himself right between your thighs, his stomach clenching both from his position and his hand.  

You couldn’t help yourself from reaching down to brush your knuckles over his hand as a signal to let you wrap your fingers around his cock instead. He happily obliged, choosing to kiss along your cheek and neck once more. You found a slow rhythm with a subtle twist of your wrist just as your mouth sucked a soft kiss from the side of his neck, just below his ear. But something that would normally have him hard in a few strokes, wasn’t doing the trick - three strokes coming and going, going, going, his cock steadily limp in your hand.  

He was breathing heavily against your collar bone as you gave him a few more pumps. His Paloma’s definitely seemed to be inhibiting him now, his tip brushing against your center over and over without so much as a glimmering twitch.  

A frustrated huff came from his pink lips.  “I don’t know what’s going on.”  

“Baby,” you eased as you pulled your hand away. “It’s probably the alcohol.”  

He wordlessly pushed himself up onto his wobbly knees, gripping himself once more as he looked down, a deep furrow dented between his brows. Two more useless strokes and brushing his tip against your core once more had him accepting defeat, falling onto the bed beside you with a disappointed grunt.  “Can still make you feel good,” he mumbled as he scooted the tiniest bit closer to your side.  

He smoothed his hand down your stomach and between your legs, only to brush his fingers just to the left of your clit. You shifted your hips slightly to get him on the right track, trying to help him find his way to where you needed him. And he did, momentarily, until he was too distracted as he tried to kiss your neck, moving off your clit once more.  

You sighed heavily as you turned your head to look at him, which only gave him false encouragement.  

“S’good, yeah?” he asked softly, his lashes blinking heavily back at you.  

You hummed through an extremely soft chuckle as you slowly turned your body towards his, your hand reaching up to cup the side of his face as his hand fell from between your thighs. “Sort of lost it, babe.”

“What? Nooo,” he whined. “Wanna make you feel good.” The pout on his lips was so evident that it almost made you smile, strong arms wrapping around you to pull you close.  His forehead knocked against yours, a soft chuckle coming from his lips as he pushed his weight into you more. “Wanna make you come,” he murmured as he clumsily crawled over you, pressing wet kisses onto the skin of your chest.  His tongue smoothed over your nipple, a zap of pleasure crawling down your spine at the sensation of his teeth scraping against your sensitive skin.  

You weaved your hands into his hair as his lips smoothed down the center of your sternum, his face pressing softly into your stomach. You shifted beneath him as his arms wrapped around your waist, his mouth lazily pressing kisses to your stomach as his weight pressed you into the mattress further.  

“H,” you murmured with a scratch to his head.

“Hm?”

You lifted your head to look down at him as he nuzzled into your skin. “Are you falling asleep?”

“Wha? No…”

“Harry,” you sighed. “Come here.”  You pulled on his arms in an attempt to bring him further up the mattress. He groggily responded, pushing himself up your body until he was laying beside you, arms wrapping around you and legs tangling with yours.  

“M’sorry, love. Can’t keep my eyes open.”  

“Sh, it’s okay.”  

He squeezed you tighter as he tucked his face into your neck, your chin resting on the top of his head. “Promise I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.”  

Sleep overcame him immediately, a content sigh falling from his lips before soft snores were escaping his open mouth. It was as endearing as it was annoying. After all that build up, all his shit talking, it was almost comical now. Or at the very least, you had to laugh, because otherwise you would cry of sexual frustration.

So you laid there, willing your mind to settle enough to fall asleep - all while Harry blissfully snored, his body radiating even more heat against your already too warm skin.

***

Was there anything worse than being woken up by a charley horse in your calf? In the grand scheme of the world? Yes. But in that exact moment? When shooting pain stabbed through your leg like a worn down razor blade?  No, there was nothing worse.  A night of drinking everything but water would do that do you though.  

You whined as you shot up from your pillow, whimpering as you attempted to massage the sore muscle, curling and uncurling your toes, breathing heavily as the cramp twisted tighter.

“God damn it,” you cursed quietly as you rubbed your fingers into the tense muscle, releasing a slow breath when the pain finally started to subside.  

And if that wasn’t bad enough, your boyfriend snored peacefully beside you, completely unaware of your turmoil as he cuddled a spare pillow close to his chest.  Was it his fault that you had a charley horse? Obviously not… but somehow you felt like it should be. Especially when you looked over at him drooling on his pillow, back muscles fully on display, hair a mess, puffy mouth hanging open - beautifully infuriating, all at once.    

So before you took your pillow and smothered him with it, you got out of bed, slowly easing onto the traitor leg before nakedly trudging to the bathroom for a shower.  He was in the exact same position when you returned with wet hair and fresh skin, and when you returned an hour and a half later with a neatly folded basket of laundry, he was still in the same position.  You were half tempted to hover your face in front of his mouth, make sure he was still breathing, just when a hiccuped snore escaped him as he wrapped himself around the pillow more.

You padded over to his side of the bed quietly, taking in the long lashes spread across the tops of his cheeks and the hair that was matted between his temple and the pillow, before carefully reaching out to stroke the backs of your fingers across his clammy cheek.  His skin was soft despite the impossible heat, pungently sweating out the last remnants of alcohol coursing through his system.  

There was a part of you that wanted to wake him up, mostly because you missed him (you were supposed to spend the day together) and partly because you couldn’t possibly forget what went on the night before. You would be lying if you said it didn’t linger in the back of your mind all morning, the reminder making itself present as soon as the water touched your skin in the shower, a surprising similarity to his touch - burning hot and completely encompassing.  

But you loved him, so with a huff and a roll of your eyes, you left him there to snooze away.

It was nearly dinner time before you heard the ensuite shower turn on from where you were perched in an oversized dark leather chair in the living room.  You stayed put, wrapped in a blanket with your Kindle and a cup of tea when he finally appeared in a pair of athletic shorts and a Kendrick Lamar hoodie with the word DAMN. written across the chest, hair still damp and sticking up in every direction.    

“Good afternoon,” you greeted, receiving a subtle look over his shoulder.  

“What’s so good about it?”

Your eyebrows rose as you peered at the back of his head while he filled his water jug from the fridge.  

“Wow,” you chuckled softly, entertained by his pouty face. “I mean, you’ve been relaxing in bed all day while I folded all your underwear. Sounds pretty good to me,” you shrugged.  

“Feel like shit,” he shook his head as he made his way towards you, plopping down on the sofa with a loud sigh.  

“Well, yeah, nine Paloma’s will do that to you.”  

“Didn’t have nine,” he grumbled before he chugged nearly his entire jug of water.  

“I was being gracious, babe. Think you had more than nine,” you laughed.  

He shot you a dirty look before his lips twitched with a small smile.  “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.”  

“Fine?” he scoffed, eyebrows high on his forehead. “Would have thought more than fine, love.”

“Why’s that?” you laughed.  

“Y’know,” he smirked, a smug look crossing his face as he playfully raised his eyebrows a few times.    

You furrowed your brows in confusion, watching as your boyfriend gave you a tenacious look of pride.  

“Uh,” you chuckled. “I don’t know.”  

“Last night?” He looked at you expectantly. “When we got home? Was good, yeah?”  

You snorted a laugh, suddenly realizing that he wasn’t joking judging by the cross look on his face, brows furrowed deeply.  

“When you passed out on me?”  

His confused blink had you laughing again, watching as he seemingly tried to piece together the pieces of your non-existent rendezvous.  

“Didn't pass out on you,” he argued.

“Ya did, baby.”  

His bottom lip pouted out just barely as he contemplated your words, eyelashes blinking softly. “Well shit,” he huffed dramatically. “Musta dreamt it.”

You barked one loud, singular laugh. “Glad dream me got some at least.”  

His laugh was infectious and heart felt, his eyes crinkling endearingly.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” you roll your eyes, unable to keep the smile off your face.

“I would make it up to you now but I’m afraid I’ll throw up in your mouth.”  

“That’s so hot,” you deadpanned. “Don’t think I’ve ever been more attracted to you.”  

He smiled timidly, a faint blush crawling across his cheeks ever so slightly. Before he could say anything else, you started to stand up from your blanket cocoon. “Well, not-laid me is going to make some dinner while you… I don’t know, do whatever you’re gonna do with this,” you waved your hand in front of him, motioning to his hungover state.  

He didn’t follow you, even though you half expected him to, and when you returned only 25 minutes later, he was fast asleep on the couch with your abandoned blanket draped over him.  

You released a sigh, accepting that the day was gone by that point, and went back to the kitchen to eat alone.  You cleaned up once you were finished and quietly put the leftovers in the fridge while Harry slept on the sofa before you poured yourself a glass of wine and headed upstairs.  

It wasn't until you were settled in the tub for a bit, topping off another dose of hot water as the bubbles slowly disintegrated around you that the door to the ensuite slowly started to open.  He looked like a puppy that had gotten into a trash can, tail between his legs and a guilty look on his face.  

“Good nap?” you asked as you sunk into the hot water again before tilting your head back to finish off your wine.  

He didn’t say anything from where he stood leaning against the door, watching you with his temple propped on the woods edge.  You glanced over when a few silent beats passed, eyes meeting his gradually.  You didn’t say anything, didn’t offer anything else up, but that seemed to jumpstart him enough to push himself off the door and actually enter the bathroom, heading straight for the vanity to wordlessly brush his teeth.    

You focused on the hot water as it eased your sore muscles rather than the sound of Harry gargling a couple feet away. And once he was finished, he appeared beside you, crouched down next to the freestanding tub, elbows propped on the ledge for balance while his disheveled hair and the look on his face tugged on your heart strings.  

“Sorry I’ve been useless today,” he spoke softly, a subtle frown pulling at the corners of his mouth.  

“It’s okay,” you eased. “You’ll have other days off.”  

“I know, but still.”  Full days off for him were few and far between as of late. “Promised you the day. And promised you other things too apparently... haven’t held up my end at all.”  

“H,” you sighed. “It’s fine, really.”  

You knew your boyfriend, you knew that he was hard on himself sometimes. Pair that with his ego being a bit bruised and you had the perfect recipe for a pity party, which judging by his face, he already arrived at the party long ago.  

“You can make it up to me another day,” you added softly, lifting your hand from the water to smooth down the outside of his misshaped eyebrow.  

He caught your hand before it dropped back into the water and pressed his mouth to the inside of your wrist. “I love you.”  His words were spoken against your skin, his eyes closed as he pressed another kiss to the same spot.  

“I love you too.”  

He released your wrist in favor of cupping your cheek, the warmth from your bath evident beneath his thumb when he stroked it against the apple while the rest of his fingers softly rested against your neck.  

His lips were warm and minty when they met yours, the softest slip of his tongue making your skin tingle with goosebumps.  

“Well…” his hand slowly trailed down your neck to cup your shoulder, your bicep, your elbow. “I can make some of it up to you now.”  

His voice lowered minutely, taking on the tone that made the depths of your stomach twist delightfully.  

“Thought you felt like barfing?” you asked as you stretched your arms up over your head, your chest extending out of the water as beads of bubbles cascaded down your breasts.    

“Feel better now.” His response was quick, immediate, eager. You didn’t miss the way his eyes trailed down your body, his hand caressing the back of your arm softly.    

You shrugged. “Maybe later.”  

Your eyes didn’t leave his when you extended your foot out of the tub to press on the bottom of the faucet's handle, effectively pushing it up and all the way over to the left to fill the tub with some burning hot water for the third time that evening.  

“I charge interest, yanno.” An expectant raise of your brow accentuated your words.     

A subtle smirk tugged on his lips - he knew exactly what you meant; the eager glint in his eye, the soft flutter of his lashes. It looked eerily similar to his expressions throughout the wedding, as if he was imaging all the ways he could devour you if you’d just let him. All the ways he could pay you back, how many times he could make it up to you.  

A bit of waiting never hurt anyone. If anything, it made it sweeter in the end.  

***

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it. As always, I would love to hear your thoughts! xo 

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#harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #la paloma #rs

[mrsbrookegillespie]

⚝The Girl Next Door⚝ Vampire!Luke x Reader (Series)

(Not My Gif)

Vampire!Luke x Reader (My Babysitter’s a Vampire AU)

Description: Set in Season One (After The Movie) Y/N decides to stay around for a little longer for a unknown reason to the gang. With that comes new problems, more supernaturals, and more uncoverings of the secrets that lay hidden beneath her facade, especially when a new girl enters the town.

Warnings: mentions of death, minor violence, and probably typo. Also cringy My Babysitter’s a Vampire talk. Tried to make it like the show in the way I write.

One more thing... It’s long. Because this is the first one of the series I wanted this one to be long, but the other ones will be shorter, unless it’s a thicker plot.

Enjoy!!!

“Look who decided to stay…”

Y/N freezes for a moment. His chilling voice sent her heart pounding against her ribcage. “Could say the same for you.” She turns on her heels rapidly to face him. “New found freedom and here you are in this same small town, at a school that’s quite boring if I’m being honest.” 

Luke tilts this head. His eyes twitch, widening for a moment. “If it was boring there wouldn’t be witches and vampires roaming around. So, who knows what else is lurking around these corners…” He teasingly smiles at Y/N’s dumbfounded expression. “Am I wrong?” 

“No…” she sighs. 

“You’ve seemed to have caught quite a lot of people’s attention.” He side eyes the group of Freshmen boys gawking at her.    

“It seems I have.” She doesn’t bother looking away from Luke. “Luke.” His now yellow eyes fixate on hers. “I hope our previous encounters don’t get to your head.”

“I wish I knew what you were talking about, so please enlighten me.” He crosses his arms, subconsciously leaning towards her. 

“I mean… With me saving you.” 

“You didn’t save me,” he argues. 

A sarcastic laugh interrupts the confrontation between them. “Oh, is that right?” Sarah appears at Y/N’s side. “Because I think if she wasn’t there to rescue you, there would be a wooden stake in your chest right now.” She mimics Luke’s stance, Y/N awkwardly standing there witnessing this endeavorment.

Luke laughs, dryly. “Is that what you think? Well, I think if a pathetic girl--” 

“Right here,” Y/N mumbles.

“--could take you on, I could’ve survived your weak throw.” 

Sarah sucks on her two front teeth. “Come on Y/N, let’s get out of here.” She grabs ahold of Y/N’s arm tugging her away from the boy.

“Little strange that you’re buddying up with the girl who nearly killed you,” he shouts.

Weirded out glances are shot towards him. 

“You just had to save him?” Sarah asks.

“What? Would you rather me save Jesse?” Y/N responds, raising an eyebrow.

“Or how about no one?” 

Y/N huffs. “Think he’s going to be a problem?” She looks back at where Luke and her just were, only to find he’s disappeared. 

“The biggest,” Sarah answers.

“Yeah… Me too.” 

“Hey guys,” Ethan says, walking up to the pair. “What’s up?” 

“Just another lovely conversation with Luke,” Sarah explains. “Would still really love a reason from Ms. Magic over here.” 

Y/N puts her freehand up to mock surrender. “Don’t look at me,” she pauses. “Just doing my job,” she whispers to the point where no one else hears her. “Seen my cousin anywhere?” 

Ethan shakes his head, but it goes distracted when something catches his attention. “Found him.” 

They all turn to see Benny sweet talking to an unfamiliar girl. “Makes sense,” Y/N comments. “Who is that?” Her eyes narrow.

“No clue, never seen her around before,” Ethan informs. 

“She’s pretty.” 

They all jump, startled by Rory’s sudden appearance. “Where did you come from?” Y/N asks, harshly.

“Sorry, not as pretty as you Y/N,” Rory rushes, winking at her. 

She rolls her eyes. Benny and the new girl stopping in front of them. “Guys I want you to meet Clarissa, she’s new, and she actually just moved in next door to us,” he remarks. 

“Hello, Clarissa, I’m Sarah.” 

“Ethan.” 

“Rory.” 

Y/N stares at the girl for a moment. Something didn’t fit right in Y/N’s stomach when staring into her pure green eyes. They were almost too green. “I’m Y/N.” She bounces on the balls of her feet. “Benny’s cousin,” she adds.

Clarissa grabs Y/N’s hand without warning. “I’ve heard so much about you!”

“You have?” Y/N chokes out a laugh. “All good things, I hope.” She grew heavily uncomfortable when Clarissa stared intensely at the purple gem that was snug in the center of Y/N’s ring. 

Y/N pulls her hand away hastily, wiping it on her jeans. “Of course.” Clarissa’s sickly sweet smile almost gave her a headache. 

“Benny,” she grits through her teeth. “Can I speak with you?” 

Benny looks at her, confused. “What’s up?” 

Y/N clears her throat. “Alone.” 

With no verbal response she drags Benny to a corner where the rest of the group stared at the two. “What’s wrong? Is it Clarissa? Look, I know she’s coming off a little eager but--” 

“That’s all you’re getting from her?” Y/N exasperates. “Don’t you see her eyes they’re pure green, I think they’re magical contacts--”

“Magical--what?!” 

She gestures to where Clarissa was picking at Sarah’s hair. “And she’s wearing a headwrap-thing! And--” She aggressively points at her ring, “--she was analyzing it. I think she knows who I am, and people knowing what I am equals trouble.” 

Benny stares at his cousin like he’s witnessing a crazy person. “Okay, someone’s been overworking her powers a little too much.” He grabs hold of her shoulders. “Clarissa is just a lonely new girl, who just happens to now live right next door to us. And maybe she likes jewelry, and green is good. Nice color. And… You do know there is something called culture, right?” 

Y/N groans. “You’re not getting my point, I think she’s--”

The warning bell rings, cutting her off. “Gotta get to class, maybe you should go home--”

“But--”

“Get some rest.” Benny runs off, catching up with Clarissa.

“Okay, what’s got you all down?” Sarah asks, following the invisible lines Y/N’s making with her eyes, landing on Clarissa. 

“Something is not--”

“I had a vision,” Ethan blurts. “When I shook Clarissa’s hand.” 

“I knew it!” Y/N exclaims. “Snakes on her head, am I right?” 

Ethan shudders. “H-How did you know?” 

“Medusa, I can sense descendants wherever I go,” Y/N admits. “It’s my seventh sense.” 

“You mean sixth sense,” Sarah corrects.

“No, I mean seventh sense.” Ethan and Sarah furrow their eyebrows. “Hard to explain. We need to warn Benny, but I think she already put her spell on him.” 

“Spell?” Ethan questions. “What spell?” 

The second bell rings. “Let’s talk later, during lunch!” Y/N jogs away rounding a corner.

“The thing is…” 

“Ah!” Y/N screams when Clarissa slithers in front of her. “You…” She points an accusing finger at her. “Stay… Away.” Y/N makes a mental note of how her contacts were replaced with a dark pair of sunglasses. 

“You have something I need. You think I want to be this way, snakes for beautiful long hair, turning people into stone. Do you know how lonely it is? I turned my best friend into stone, no way to reverse her back.” Clarissa takes a step closer to Y/N.

“Well, there is, it’s just--AH!” Y/N falls back onto the floor when Clarissa pushes her. “A little more complicated because of…” Her voice fades off.

Clarissa’s eyes didn’t dare to look away from Y/N’s ring. “Because I don’t have that.” 

“So, you want my ring?” Y/N scoffs. “Well, you can’t have it. I’m not giving it to you.” 

Clarissa chuckles. “Like you have a choice.” 

“No, no, no, please don’t do this…. AH!” Y/N had no time to react before Clarissa’s headwrap fell, and she ripped her sunglasses off. 

Grandma gasps, placing a hand on her heart. Not wasting any time she rustles off of the couch, getting to work.

RING! 

“Where’s Y/N? She was supposed to tell us--” 

“Tell you what?” Benny asks, cutting off Ethan. ‘

“That--Clarissa!” Ethan fakes a smile when she comes into view. “Tell us--” 

“Tell us about her upcoming date,” Sarah finishes, nonchalantly. 

“Date?” Luke stomps up to them. “Y/N? On a date? With who?”

“With…” Sarah’s eyes search the area. “Rory!” 

The blonde boy stops, surprised. “What about me?” he asks.

“Your date with Y/N?” Ethan strains his voice, hoping Rory will be smart enough to follow along. 

Rory frowns. “Date…?” Ethan and Sarah nod, pointedly. “Date! Yes! Date. Date with Y/N. I am going on a date with Y/N.” Rory stills. “Wait, I’m going on a date with Y/N?! Sweet!” 

Luke’s jaw drops. “There must be a mistake,” he laughs. “She would never choose an idiot like you.” 

“And who would she choose… You?” Sarah ridicules.

Luke’s eyes flash yellow. “Well, thanks for the compliment. You don’t think I’m an idiot,” he replies. “Where is she?” He changes the topic.

“I-I think I saw her go home,” Clarissa chimes in.

Ethan and Sarah both avert their eyes to the girl. “You did?” Sarah glances at Ethan who undoubtedly thinks the same thing. 

“Yep!” Clarissa innocently smiles. “Why would I lie?” 

“Yeah, why would she lie?” Benny, oblivious of the situation, puts on the same smile Clarissa is sporting. “She’s new.” 

“Which means we know nothing about her,” Luke snarls. 

“Luke’s right!” Ethan confirms. 

“Is he?” Sarah’s voice goes a little higher, but on the inside she 100% agreed. 

“I’m going to go check on her,” Luke announces. 

“Why are you acting like you care about her?” Sarah snickers. “I’m coming with you.” 

“Sarah,” Ethan hisses, grabbing her wrist. Gasping when he makes contact. “I had a vision,” he confesses, letting go of her. “It’s urgent.” 

Sarah quickly glances at everyone before landing on Luke. “Just let us know if she’s there.” 

“Or how about you guys check after school?” Clarissa suggests. “And then if she’s not we can all help look for her--if missing of course. You don’t really want to miss school, do you?” 

Luke bursts into laughter. “You really are new.” And just like that he’s gone. 

“Woah, where’d he go?” Clarissa scans the room. “What are you people? First we have witches, and wizards and now--” 

“Wait, how do you know that?” Ethan interrogates.

“Guys! Chill out, I filled her in on Y/N and I being ‘magical’.” Benny does the quotations. “And how Y/N was a little freaked out by her, but it’s all good.” 

“You told her what?!” Sarah feels her anger rise within her. 

Luke opens the window of Y/N’s room, entering it. “Hello?” he calls out. “Y/N?” 

The door swings open, exposing Grandma on the other side. “Thank God, you’re here.” She runs to grab his arm. “She doesn’t have much time.” 

“What’s going on?” 

She takes him to the basement where Y/N sat on the table, completely made of stone. “She appeared right here, like this, not too long ago, but long enough where we’re getting close to the effects being permanent.” 

“What happened?” Luke walks up to Y/N.

“Medusa, or descendants. Has there been any odd behavior around the school? Or perhaps a new face?”  

Luke perks up. “Yes, there’s a new girl. A little weird, and--” 

“Tell me everything you know, and while you’re doing that, mix this up for me.” She hands him a bowl. “Hurry!” 

Sarah and Ethan continue to sit where they’ve been sitting for the last ten minutes. “How are we going to fix this?” Ethan asks.

Sarah scrunches her face when she realizes Ethan was actually asking for an answer from her. “Don’t ask me, this is not my area of expertise.” 

“If we don’t figure it out soon, you’ll turn to stone.” 

“I’m a vampire, Ethan, I don’t think that’s even possible.” 

“Well, you’re not a full vampire, maybe it’s different,” he disputes. “Look, I know what I saw, and I saw you turn to stone.” 

“So, what do we do?” 

Ethan stops again to think. “We… We need to use her own power against her,” he concludes. “But, we need Benny’s help.”

“Y/N said he’s under her spell, how are we going to take him out of it?” Sarah voices her concerns. “This would be so much easier if Y/N was here. Where is Luke? I knew we couldn’t trust him.” 

“Forget him, we have to figure it out on our own.” 

“I’m just--I’m worried. Y/N hasn’t just vanished like this before.” 

Ethan chuckles. “You obviously haven’t known her for as long as I have.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Ethan inhales through his nose. “We were all best friends when we were kids, it was always me, Y/N, and Benny versus the world. We thought she was crazy when she spoke about her being a witch, and having magical powers. But, she was still our best friend.” He frowns. “Then she left, and never came back. We never got an explanation as to why. She was seven and we were five… And, yet, we remember those days like they were yesterday, and then of course she randomly pops up out of nowhere ten years later. Knowing all of this stuff about me, vampires, magic, it just doesn’t make any sense.” 

“Well, she’s back now, you can get answers. Trust me, I’m just as curious as you for some things when it comes to her…” 

“Have you guys seen Clarissa?” Benny asks. “I haven’t been able to find her.” 

“What?” Ethan stands up. “She’s gone?” He looks at Sarah in alarm. “Benny, okay, I need you to understand this… Clarissa is Medusa, or descendant, or the same species..” 

Benny doesn’t move at first. “Funny, but seriously can you guys help me?” 

The lights flicker. “That’s not good,” Sarah thinks out loud. 

“Benny we’re telling you the truth, I had a vision, and Y/N she--” 

“She put you up to this. She was acting weird earlier. Where is she by the way?” 

“You won’t be seeing a lot from her anymore,” Clarissa’s voice echoes through the halls. 

“Is it just me… Or are we the only ones in the school right now?” Benny searches for any signs of life around them. 

“That’s your question?!” Sarah hisses. “Didn’t you hear what she said about Y/N?” 

“She’s probably just trying to scare us,” Ethan excuses. “We can’t make assumptions.” 

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you guys, we don’t know if Clarissa is--Oh my God!” Benny makes direct contact with the lockers' reflection of Clarissa, snakes floating around her head. “Run!” 

Clarissa apparates in front of them. “Don’t look her in the eyes,” Ethan advises.

“No duh, Ethan!” Benny shouts. 

The locker doors slam open around them. “How is she doing this?” Sarah covers her eyes.

“I’m guessing Y/N’s ring,” Benny guesses. 

“How do we stop her if we can’t see her?” 

“Maybe I can help,” another voice declares. 

“Y/N?!” Sarah calls out. “Where have you been?” 

“I was stuck in a… Situation. But, Luke helped me.” Y/N smiles at Luke. 

“Bring it, now!” Grandma orders. Luke hands it to her. “Stand back.”

“What do you need me to do?” Luke asks, taking a step away from Y/N and Grandma. 

Grandma meets his concerned eyes. “Be there for her when she comes back… It won’t be pretty.” She holds up the potion pouring it all around Y/N’s body. “Here we go.” She internally prayed this would work, especially with Luke watching. She begins to mumble some words incoherently, a bright light coming from her hands. 

“It’s working,” Luke blurts in relief, when the grey stone starts to break off exposing skin. 

“AH!” Y/N screams when most of her upper body is free. She notices the way her hands were still stone, panic rising. 

Luke doesn’t hesitate his arms around her neck, settling her head in the crook of his neck. “You’re okay, it’s okay, you’re alright,” he assures, softly into her ear. Y/N can feel her fingers break free, gripping onto his shirt. “Shhh…” He runs his fingers through her hair. 

Grandma weakly smiles, slowly backing away from them, to leave them alone.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N asks when her cries settle down.

He pulls away, wiping the last fallen tears from her cheeks. “You went missing, and the rest were worried. I took it upon myself to… Find you. I also heard you were going on a date with Rory and I--” 

“Wait! So, Clarissa is at the school with my friends… ALONE?!” 

Y/N’s expression turns stern. “Now Clarissa, how about you do us all a favor and give me my ring back.” She moves close to Luke. “Take the rest, and hide.” 

“What? No. I’m not gonna protect some losers, and that would include me touching them…”  

Y/N takes a deep breath, breaking her stance to hold the bridge of her nose. “Luke, I swear to God I will go back in time and stab you in the heart myself if I have to if you don’t listen to me.” It goes silent. Yes, even Clarissa didn’t move a muscle. “Got it?”

Luke simply nods. 

“Back to business now.” 

“Magical contacts,” Clarissa states more than questions. “Smart.” 

Y/N shrugs carelessly with a smirk. “Learn from the best.” In less than a minute it was just her and Clarissa alone in one of the many creepy hallways of the school. “Now my ring.” She holds out her hand. “It’s not going to give you what you want.” 

“And how do you know exactly what I want?” Clarissa snaps. 

“It’s dangerous for someone not trained to use it, I don’t want to hurt you.” 

Clarissa scoffs. “How are you going to do anything without this?” She points to the ring that rightfully belongs to Y/N. “You’re nothing without it.” 

Those words rang in Y/N’s mind. “That’s not true.” 

“Oh, but I think it is.” With a wave of Clarissa’s hand, Y/N goes flying back. “And with this ring I’m everything.”

Y/N winces as she stands. “You’re just going to hurt yourself.”

“Not a chance.” Another lifeless throw of Clarissa’s fingers Y/N falls to the floor. “See? Can’t even dodge a simple spell. You’re useless, and pathetic. It’s a miracle you can even call yourself a witch.” 

“See?” Y/N mocks Clarissa’s tone. “That’s where you’re wrong.” She stands up, strong. “I’m no witch.” She closes her eyes, the adrenaline coursing through her veins, a certain friction being felt at her fingertips. She elegantly moves as though she is a flower in the wind, building up a bundle of energy at the palm of her hands. 

“I could’ve said that,” Clarissa laughs. “You know, I never thought someone like you could befriend so many vampires.” Y/N bites her lip to keep from distracting herself away from the task. “Who was that one… The one you arrived with. Seems quite special to you. With this ring, vampires will never be immune to my power, nor will any other supernatural when I learn how to get past your little spells. I will make you feel the pain I felt… Starting with that boy.” 

When Y/N opens her eyes it sends a shock wave towards Clarissa. What used to be her dark brown eyes are now a violent shade of purple. “Oh… There is no spell,” Y/N’s voice comes out more deep and demonic. “This--” She gestures to herself, “--is all me.”

“Uhhh…” Clarissa stumbles back.

“Told you I’m no witch.” Y/N creeps up to her. “And I’d watch what you say very carefully.” 

“It’s not poss--” 

Y/N raises up her hand, Clarissa following as she leviates in the air. The lockers that were open around them began to crumple. “Oops… I meant that to be you.” 

“AH!”

Sarah, Benny, Ethan, and Luke become startled by the sound of screaming. “What was that?” Sarah asks, slightly scared.

“Was that Y/N?” Benny starts to stroll towards the school. “We need to help her!” 

Luke harshly grabs his shoulder. “If we’re going to go in there we’ll need these.” He presents the clear contacts to the group. “They’ll block out her magic.” Luke’s thoughts drift off to earlier. 

“What do you need me to do?” Luke asks, taking a step away from Y/N and Grandma. 

Grandma meets his concerned eyes. “Be there for her when she comes back… It won’t be pretty.”

“Let’s go,” Sarah says. “Luke?!” 

Grandma takes his wrist before he follows Y/N out of the house. “Be there for her.” 

“What?” 

“Be there for her when she comes back from the fight,” Grandma guides, vaguely. “She can’t control it.” 

“Control what?” 

“Her emotions… Her powers… Her alter ego,” she explains. “The night she saved you, the night she almost killed Sarah, who do you think that was?”

Luke shakes the odd feeling off. Running after the rest. 

“Please, help me!” Clarissa pleads. 

“Who would ever help you? You’re a monster. You kill people with no remorse. What makes you more worth saving than anyone you’ve murdered?!” Y/N grabs a hold of the girl's wrist. “This belongs…” She plucks the ring off of her with magic. “To me.” Carefully sliding it down her own finger without touching it once. Y/N moves her grip to both Clarissa’s shoulders. “How about I show you the pain you caused?” Her eyes grow brighter as she clearfully shouts sinful spells at Clarissa. The snakes that make up her hair cower in fear as her body becomes more and more weak in Y/N’s hands.

“Y/N!” Ethan yelps. “What are you doing?” 

“Dealing with the enemy,” she answers.

Clarissa allows the tears to fall from her eyes. “Don’t do this! I’m sorry.” Y/N ignores the girl’s cries, and wails. 

“Y/N, you need to stop this.” Luke tries to get her attention. 

Y/N lets out a dark chuckle. “That’s what they tell her, right? To stop this side of her, to hide, well not anymore, not while I’m around will allow her to bury me once more in her pureness,” she pauses. “They will all. Feel. My. WRATH!” 

With a blinding flash of light everything went quiet. 

Everyone opens their eyes to find Y/N lying limp on the ground. “Y/N!” Her friends rush to her aid, huddling around her.

“Wake up.” Luke cups her face, patting her cheek gently. “Wake up, wake up, wake up,” he repeats.

Y/N gasps, her eyes fluttering open. “Guys? Wh-What happened?” 

“You don’t remember?” Ethan asks.

Y/N shakes her head. “No, I just remember Clarissa and--” She cuts herself off, looking around. “Where’s Clarissa?” 

They hear a squeak behind them. 

They turn their heads, Y/N lifting hers to see the damage she caused. “Oh my God!” she shrills when she sees a small snake on the floor. “What have I done?” She scrambles away from the group, going over to what she believed was Clarissa. “I have to fix this.” She picks up the snake.

“Y/N--” 

“Please,” she sobs. “I’ll fix this. I promise I will.” She sets the snake down, taking a deep breath. “I can fix this,” she tells herself. Her arms lift up gracefully, as she moves them around, almost like a dance. A soft breeze brushes everyone coming around to where Y/N sat. “Mmm… Mmm…” She hums a melody. “Water, Earth… Fire, and Ice, I bring thee together to create a new light,” she sings angelically. “Water, Earth… Fire and Ice reverse what I’ve done… Take in the curse and disperse it with love. Reverse the curse and I’ll pay back for what I’ve done…” A warm light glows from Y/N’s hands illuminating the snake that transforms back into the shape of a human. 

Clarissa opens her eyes, sitting up. A trail of long, golden blonde hair follows. “You did it.” She smiles. “You broke the curse.” She wraps her arms tightly around Y/N. “Thank you.” 

Y/N hugs the girl back.

Hiss! 

They pull away from each other. “Oh! I think you have…” Y/N points at the top of her head.

Clarissa reaches up to grab the small snake. “I guess someone had a curse to be broken too.” Her eyes meet Y/N’s. “Thank you, once again.” She giggles. “Sorry I stole your ring, and turned you to stone” 

“What?!” Ethan, Benny, and Sarah exclaims.

“Old news,” Luke mutters. 

“And sorry Benny about the spell I put on you.” 

Benny blinks a few times. “A spell?!” 

“I owe you my life,” Clarissa says.

Y/N waves it off. “You don’t owe us anything. You’re free now, so be free.” 

Clarissa, and Y/N stand up. “Then I must go… Find my parents.” 

Y/N’s eyes light up. “I might have something for that.” Y/N looks around, twirling her finger around to make--

“A compass?” Clarissa questions.

“This is an enchanted compass, think about what you’re trying to find and it’ll take you right to them,” Y/N explains, handing it to her. 

“I was wrong about you,” Clarissa starts. “I thought the ring made you who you are, but… It turns out it’s your heart that makes you everything…” She vanishes.

“Wh-where’d she go?” Ethan looks at Y/N confused.

“To where her parents are.” Y/N smiles. 

The sun shines through the windows, the bells of the school ringing as people walk out of the classrooms. “Where were you guys?” Rory asks. “You missed fifth period.” 

Everyone glimpse at each other’s reactions. “Magic is seriously weird,” Sarah comments. 

“You tell me,” Ethan agrees.

“I already knew,” Y/N admits. 

“When will I get one of those rings?” Benny questions. “I mean… I am a warlock too, and yet why can’t I do all the cool stuff you can do?” 

Y/N laughs. “I don’t know if I would call it cool, but…” She looks at Luke who hasn’t been able to look away from her since she woke up. 

“Are you okay?” 

Y/N is taken aback by his question. “I will be,” she answers, truthfully. “Thanks for being there for me.” 

“Why are they looking at each other like that, when Y/N and I are supposed to be going out on a date?” Rory thinks out loud.

Hearing only the last part of it Y/N looks at him in alarm. “What did I hear about me going out on a date with you?” She gapes at Sarah and Ethan who appear guilty.

“Was that Erica?” Sarah dramatically points the opposite way of them. “I was wondering where that girl was… Gotta go!” 

Ethan stands there awkwardly, as Sarah runs away. “Did Sarah just call for me to come with? I think she did, buh-bye!” 

And so there were three. “So? When is that da--” 

Rory gets cut off by Luke hissing at him. “It’s a no from her loverboy,” Luke bickers. “Leave it.” 

Rory pouts, but genuinely frightened by Luke, paces away. “It’s been a long day, I think I’m gonna go home.” Y/N runs a hand through her hair. “See you later, ‘kay?” She walks off.

Benny was left confused when the direction of her words was towards Luke and not him.

Taglist (Comment If You Want To Be Add, be specific if you just want to be added for this series or Luke Patterson in general):

@lovesanimals @charliegillespiewife @wanniiieeee

#jatp #jatp cast #jatp imagines #luke jatp #jatp netflix #jatp fanfic #jatp fanfiction #jatp fic #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phat ones #luke patterson #luke x reader #luke patterson imagines #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson fanfiction #my babysitter's a vampire imagine #my babysitters a vampire #my babysitter’s a vampire x reader #sunset curve #netflix #imagine #imagines #x reader #julie molina #julie jatp #madison reyes #charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie x reader #charliegillespieedit

[luisjuanmilton]

Hello, Ana, I hope you're doing okay. I saw your latest posts and you got some pretty rude anons in your ask box. I'm just writing this to add my 2 cents to what's happening since Silverstone because, as much as I don't agree with a couple of things you say, I think people are completely missing the point about some of your statements and are sending unjustifiable hate towards you (as I recall, an anon was sending asks about you to another blog asking if they were on your side and that's just peak stupidity). So, I'm watching F1 since the 2001 season (yes, I'm above 40) and when Alonso became the WDC in 2005 it was the best season ever for me. Men are not my thing, so I've never felt particularly fond of any of them on a personal level, social media wasn't a thing, I'm also working on STEM, so the technical aspect of the sport always fascinated me. I'm saying all of this because when Alonso won he broke a streak of victories held by Michael from and from a sports perspective, that was awesome. Dominance in the sport is boring. I never had anything against Lewis, he's undoubtedly the GOAT and I actively supported him in 2014 (Vettel's dominance had to end) and even 2015. But since Nico retired and Lewis' dominance became unparalleled (because as much as he has the same 7 WDCs as Michael, Lewis is a much better driver, and Michael played dirty, so Lewis had way more to achieve), and I was wondering when someone would come to stop that (maybe Vettel again?) (+)

Guys this is the first part of a very long three part ask I received which continues in full after the read more, and I want to ask everyone to read it because it’s incredibly well put and well written and it’s so important. I really think it perfectly explains the situation at hand and that’s why I’m going as far as to use Max’s tag, but if you’re a Max fan who doesn’t want to read it this is your cue to not click on the read more - even if I would advise for you to read the whole thing.

(+) The thing is, with the events that happened off track I can no longer wish for such a fiercely fought championship, and the reason why is that I don't trust RedBull and Max's work ethics anymore.

A championship should be decided ON TRACK, not with lawsuits and discourses full of vitriolic racist-toned hatred. It's a fact: RedBull as a scuderia did an amazing job this year, that car is insanely fast, Max himself is absurdly talented, but at this point can we really separate things to the point of sweeping racism under the rug and focus on the championship as if nothing is happening?

I always listen to the mantra "you can't separate the artist from their work" so how can we do it? How can we look at RedBull objectively and still feel happy for their results at the cost of Lewis Hamilton's wellbeing?

I see lots of people messaging you saying you're equating cheering for Max with being racist and no, not everyone cheering for Max is racist, but AT THIS POINT, could you guys cheering for Max ignore how permissive he is?

He has so much power inside that team, he could make Horner and Marko stop their nonsense, he could've issued a statement condemning the racism thrown at the fan, he could, as a public person, take responsibility in his hands and stop that shit. But he's silent. His IG post? Adrenaline.

But now, 48hs later there's really an excuse for his silence? Guys, as much as he's angry, it's not like people are calling Lewis only a bad driver, they are offending his race, their posting monkey emojis to his social media.

In Max's shoes, would you see your rival going through that and remain silent as if your pain due to your crash and missing the race could somehow be equivalent to RACISM? I'm not demanding you all to stop liking Max per se or trying to say he's a bad driver, this is not the point AT ALL.

I was there during the Schumacher era and, believe me, Michael wasn't an angel on track. Formula One always sparkled heated debate, but I've never seen anything like this before. Lewis is silent since Sunday, a couple of drivers are either issuing personal statements or a standardized GPDA text, and Max is still silent.

And in my view, regardless of how I feel about him as a driver, as a human being, he's failing miserably. This championship shouldn't be more important than standing for Lewis against the racists coming for him.

So instead of complaining people are calling you racist for supporting Max, ask yourself for how long you can put his behavior off track behind in a serious matter like this. Instead of asking Ana or any other fan to be better in their statements, go to Max's page and demand him to say something.

You're all aiming at the wrong target. RedBull has black employees, could any of you imagine how they must feel as well? How do black fans feel?  As for the championship, I hope Lewis gains a huge advantage soon as Horner and Marko will clearly try everything to have him banned until Abu Dhabi.

Let's move our desire to have a competitive championship to 2022 when, hopefully, Ferrari will give Charles a decent car. Nothing, guys, nothing can be more important right now than a black man - black fans, black employees - wellbeing and mental health. We're crossing a line we shouldn't have and people need to be accountable for their actions.

#thanks for this anon really #it was very eye opening even for me #lewis hamilton #max verstappen #formula 1 #long post #tw racism

[buckyownsmylife]

Diving Bell - Andy Barber smut

The one where Andy has been a patient librarian, but now that you’ve accepted his advances...

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, dubcon, (andy pushes the relationship into boundaries that weren’t previously consented), age gap, (reader is over eighteen and in college), semi-public sex, somewhat of an exhibitionism kink, oral (f), andy’s definitely dark but reader is generally into it, she just doesn’t know what “it” will be, dirty talk

Word count: 3k<

A/N:  this is for my own birthday celebration challenge! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them, instead of on Thursdays, which are my usual one-shot posting days. Hope you guys like it!

Reader’s P.O.V.

My face burned and I wondered how I hadn’t spontaneously combusted from how hot I felt under the hot new librarian’s gaze. Sure, the girls had warned me about it - I’d hear so much about him, in fact, that I was sure I’d be disappointed when I actually did manage to meet him.

Boy, was I wrong.

He was the definition of daddy, luscious beard and hair just begging to be pulled and I could feel the burn his jaw would leave behind if he deposited kisses down my neck - or better yet, on the insides of my thighs - but he was at least twenty years older than me.

There was absolutely no way I’d ever catch his attention. Not when so many girls had tried to get in his pants - girls hotter than me - and had failed miserably, as I’d been told time and time again from the very same seductresses.

So I saw absolutely no point in trying. Although, one could very well admire, right? Also, fantasize couldn’t do any harm, not even to my extremely vulnerable pride. It’s not like I could control it, anyway.

But another thing I couldn’t control was his effect on me. The way my whole body warmed up when I felt his eyes on it, how I couldn’t immediately focus on his words whenever he addressed me.  I even stopped coming to the library to study because 1) I couldn’t concentrate with him around and 2) his presence had brought a whole new wave of first-time library users, and seeing as their interests weren’t on the actual books, they tended to be extremely loud.

Once essays started to get assigned though, there wasn’t much I could do. I had to get back to the library, and so I chose to go when it was already dark, hoping he wouldn’t pick up that shift, and knowing most frat girls would be at an impromptu Thursday-night party to celebrate (once again) the start of classes.

I didn’t understand why they couldn’t just throw a party for the sake of partying. Did they have to reuse the same excuse, over and over again? It’s not like anyone cared. I certainly didn’t, and the people who went for the free beer didn’t care about anything just as long as the alcohol kept flowing.

“What are you doing here?” His voice startled me, almost making me drop the pile of books I’d been gathering. Even though there was no way I’d confuse him with someone else, I still looked over my shoulder to make sure it was really him, that he was actually there, staring at me with those caring warm brown eyes.

“S-should I be anywhere else?” I tried to sass, even if my own voice gave me away. He chuckled though, extending a hand to help me with the load in my arms, and although I hesitated for a second, I ended up accepting his help. It was his job, after all. This couldn’t really be considered flirting, right?

“I don’t know. I’ve heard about this party tonight, figured you’d be there.” Frowning, I finally turned to stare at him directly in the eyes, almost immediately regretting my decision. Damn, he looked good.

“How do you know about the party?” I asked, and his lips immediately curled up, trying to contain a smile from stretching over his face.

“Some girls may or may not have invited me to meet them there.” Clicking my tongue, I decided to look back at the bookshelf, instead of paying him any more attention.

“Why? Are you jealous?” The question felt too much like something a fuckboy my age might ask me at a party, not a forty-year-old man who worked a full-time job. When I turned to look at him again, eyebrows raised high, he chuckled.

“Sorry, that’s not usually my style… I’m just at a loss of ways to get you to notice me, that’s all.” Well, now I was beyond shocked.

“Why do you want me to notice you?” I asked, utterly confused, but Andy just laughed, shaking his head at me like he was profoundly amused by my ways.

“I always notice when you’re around. Even worse, I always notice when you aren’t.” And then, as he looked around like he wanted to make sure other people wouldn’t hear him, he leaned over me and confessed, “It gets pretty lonely here without you.”

The accompanying wink almost gave me a heart attack. Stuttering out something even though I didn’t know what to say, I moved away from the bookshelf in search of the nearest table, finding it thankfully empty.

When I turned around to look for him again, he was right by my side.

“I don’t get it,” I managed to admit once my arms were book-free. “We’ve talked like twice. You helped me find books, I acted like a fool. You weren’t supposed to flirt with me, why aren’t you interested in the college girls who actually hit on you?”

He raised his eyebrows before frowning, hands deep in his pockets as he stared down at me in all of his height. “Have you ever considered… that I just don’t want them?”

The insinuation stirred something deep inside of me, leaving me flushed and overall a mess. Stumbling out an apology, I gathered my stuff and left as quickly as possible, determined to process what had happened that evening by myself, so it could actually feel real and I could decide what to do from then on.

But something changed ever since that evening. I stopped trying to run away from him and started to actively go to the library in the times I knew he was there, at first still avoiding him and looking away every time he caught me staring, silently grateful that he didn’t try to force me to open up to him.

His patience was rewarded when in a few weeks, I began to talk to him again. Asking him for book recommendations, never anything other than what was strictly related to his job, but the way his eyes glinted knowingly at me warned me that he did understand where my mind was at.

It didn’t take long for him to start flirting with me, and from then on, I slowly accepted his advances and even began to eagerly wait for them.

I smiled widely when I heard his low whistle, admiring the way he looked in that comfortable sweater as he put away the books he was holding to fully give me all of his attention.

“Well, don’t you look incredible?” He asked as I twirled so he could fully see the dress I’d put on just for him. “Did you dress up for me, pretty girl? Because I like to think that you did.”

Biting my lower lip, I tried to gather the courage I’d been trying to build up all week, before finally nodding and admitting, “Yes, I did.” From the stupefied look on his face, it didn’t seem like he was expecting that. Even worse, I wasn’t expecting the outcome of my little attempt to flirt back.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” And that was all the warning I got before his hands cradled my face and he took my mouth in his, kissing me breathless, leaving me aching and soaked when he finally released me.

I was panting by the time he let go of my lips, and he smiled softly at me as he brushed over my cheekbones, saying, “You know… if you ever need anything… You know I’m always here to help.”

Andy’s P.O.V.

“So, what brings you here tonight?” My own smile denounced just how much of her intentions I already knew, from how well I knew her. Her late-night visits to the library had become more and more frequent, and I couldn’t say that I hated it.

“I don’t know,” she feigned nonchalance, shrugging while perusing the bookshelves before looking back at me from over her shoulder. “The hot new librarian in charge of the night shift has told me he was always available to help me with anything I needed, and I’ve been needing a distraction.”

My chuckle was low, in order not to interrupt the few students still trying to finish whatever assignment they were working on, but she heard it. I watched as she shivered at the sound of my voice, prompting me to lick my lips at the powerful reaction I could so easily elicit from her.

“You didn’t use to be so blunt,” I teased, remembering how she used to come in here looking for me, only to run away at the last second. It was adorable. Ever since I started working at this university, it wasn’t unusual for college girls to come in groups and watch me from a distance, their giggles whenever I glanced at them unmistakable in the almost completely silent environment. Eventually, one or two would always break away from the group and try to flirt while their friends became a captive audience, but I was quick to shut them down.

They weren’t the one I wanted. She was standing in front of me now, pretending to be interested in a random book, biting her lower lip to keep a smile from spreading over her face. “Do you miss it?”

There was something undeniably attractive by her shyness back then, her inability to ask me for information or even sustain my gaze, but now that I knew what it was like to have her meet my eyes, now that I’d had the luxury of hearing her speak, of getting to know the intricacies of her mind, how could I miss what was, back then, a stranger?

“Not at all.” Her laughter, even subdued because of the place we were in, was enough to have my stomach doing backflips. I had to smile, instinctively getting closer to her, just like a moth, drawn to a flame. 

“I want to do dirty, dirty things to you,” I admitted, one hand on the back of her head as I pressed her against the bookshelf, my lips just over her ear as my beard undoubtedly tickled her neck. “Can’t very well protect my soul if I’m still thinking about you as an innocent little thing, now can I?”

Her eyes dropped down to my lips before meeting mine again, and just like that, I had all the authorization I needed to connect our lips and kiss her breathless. Humming in delight against her quiet neediness, her eagerness to open her lips, welcome my tongue with hers, I blindly moved us further towards the back of the library, relaxed in the knowledge that amongst taxidermia books no one would come to check on us.

Not that I cared all that much if they did.

“Hm… Want me, sweetheart?” I pressed, needing to hear her say it, taking sick pleasure in knowing this came from her, this was her own desire. She almost didn’t answer me, eyelids heavily pressing her eyes closed when our mouths parted, but in the absence of my touch on her, she jolted.

“Yeah, I do! I do, I do…” She insisted, pressing herself against me, feeling just how badly I wanted her too. It made her gasp, witnessing how hard she had made me - she didn’t know it yet, but it’d been this way ever since the first day.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” I whispered, just to see the way goosebumps took over her flesh while I got rid of her underwear, moving us towards an empty table where I could lay her out to take.

“No, I don’t want you to stop,” she moaned when she saw me leaning over to kiss between her legs, eyes still connected to hers until she closed them to throw her head back, overtaken by the sensation of my warm tongue slipping between her folds. It was better that way, she wouldn’t see the dangerous smirk that denounced that she would come to regret her words before I was done with her.

She tasted just as sweet as I always imagined her to. So wet already, it was clear she was desperate for me. The cock straining against my pants reminded me I couldn’t be too cocky about it - I wanted her just as badly.

“C’mon, honey…” I teased, dipping my tongue in her hole as my thumb frantically rubbed her tiny clit. “Give me more, I want more.” I needed her to cum before I could shove my cock into her. It was important.

The sudden tension of her thighs denounced the arrival of her orgasm, and where usually I’d love nothing more than to keep licking her, delighting myself with her taste and overstimulating her sweet body until she was crying, there was only so much I could take tonight.

“There you go,” I complimented when she easily succumbed to my directions, having turned her around and laid her with her stomach on the table, legs dangling off of it. “Want to feel me now, pretty girl? Want me to fill you now?”

Her answer was a whine as her hips searched for mine. She was offering herself to me, the innocent little thing. Didn’t know I’d take her regardless of it.

I had the instinct of slapping my hand over her mouth as I penetrated her, and so her moan came out muffled. I could still understand a breathless, “so good…” being uttered against my palm, and it only made me bite down on my lip harder, so my own sounds wouldn’t reverberate across the silent library.

It was a twisted kind of pleasure to hold her arms back as I fucked her roughly but as silently as possible, trying not to make the table squeak so it wouldn’t draw attention to us. Even though I didn’t particularly care if someone did find us - I wouldn’t stop fucking her if God himself tried to intervene -  I’d prefer to reach my goal without unwanted interferances.

So I was glad she didn’t seem to mind the fact that anyone could easily look our way and see us fucking. Had I really tempted her that much, that she would let me do whatever I wanted to her body, just as long as I fucked her?

Guess I was about to find out.

“Do you know how many times I masturbated in the back room, thinking about this sweet pussy?” I asked, voice raspy with desire as I kept jackhammering her as quietly as possible, but probably failing to do so in the midst of my arousal. “To think I finally have it now, wrapped around my dick…” My voice faltered as I realized all of my dreams were about to come true, right at that moment.

“Can’t wait to fuck my cum back into you, sweetheart. I’m gonna keep you so full from now on.” I felt her body tense underneath my fingers as she processed my words, but it was too late for her now. My hand still over her mouth, I stopped her from screaming or fighting me in any way.

“Just relax, honey. Doesn’t it feel so good?” I mocked, fucking her harder and harder as my control slipped from me. “It feels good for me, too. So now you’ll have to take it.”

Reaching around for her clit, I started rubbing it in quick little motions, desperate to feel her cunt clenching around me once more, milking my cum.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Cum again for me. Let me keep making you feel good as you do the same for me.” Her orgasm had her legs raising between mine, right when I started to spill inside of her, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. Once I was sure she wouldn’t scream, I took my hand away and pushed her back against the desk, massaging her ass eagerly, hoping it would take.

“You’ll look so good all round with my child.” Once I pulled my cock from her, I made sure to adjust her underwear so it would stop my cum from flowing, massaging the damp tissue with a smug expression.

She managed to turn around in my embrace, blinking confusedly, mouth opening and closing as if she couldn’t quite figure out what she wanted to say, and I cooed at her adorableness.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take good care of you and the little one.” I rubbed my hand over where she would soon grow, licking my lips at the mental image of her pregnant. God, why did that make me so hard?

“You can trust me,” I assured her, pulling her closer to I could kiss her forehead, before adjusting her body so it rested on mine. I knew there were tears rolling down her cheeks, but it was just from her coming down from the adrenaline high. She wanted this. She just needed to be able to think clearly to see just how perfect this would be. “We’ll be so happy together.”

#tw dubcon #My 2k challenge #my fics #andy barber smut #librarian au #andy barber #smut #andy barber x reader #andy barber reader #andy barber reader insert #andy barber reader inserts #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x you

[hakasims]

The Most Important Review of Every Single Marwan Kenzari Film

If you’ve seen this one about Luca, you know the drill.

Now, Marwan’s brand is a little less defined than Luca’s but I managed to find similar tropes in a lot of his films. Also, rather than copy myself and give you a redundant Marwanmeter, I decided instead to recommend which Luca character best pairs with each Marwan character for your crossover pleasure. Let’s see if we ship the same things! Some of them are crack. You’re welcome.

(all gifs again by the awesomely amazing @weardes​ who did not ask to be my gif factory but life’s a bitch)

Het zusje van Katia (2008)

Will you miss him if you blink? Kinda. They talk about him a lot but his actual screen time is like 43.7 seconds. Also can I just say... he’s supposed to be from Italy?? The boy says literally one (1) Italian word, and you’ll never guess what it is. (Obviously, it’s “bella” like there’s a chance he could’ve said anything else.)

Is he hot? Painfully hot.

Is he naked? There’s this one scene where he’s wearing the sluttiest pair of speedos I’ve ever seen in my entire life.

Does his hair look great? Actually, yes. Perfect hair, perfect beard, he looks amazing.

Does he fuck? Yes, a lot - off screen, including an M/M/F threesome he presumably, probably, most definitely initiated.

Best paired with? From what I’ve gathered, this hoe ain’t loyal, so the best course of action is to find him a Luca that would benefit from a one night stand with no strings attached and wouldn’t fall in love with him. The obvious choice here is Valerio from Slam - Tutto per una ragazza. They meet, they fuck, then Giac makes his 4-hour drive back to Pisa, and they don’t see each other again until the next time he’s in Rome. Everybody’s happy, especially the two sluts in question.

De laatste dagen van Emma Blank (2009)

Will you miss him if you blink? Yes, absolutely.

Is he hot? Very.

Is he naked? Almost constantly.

Does his hair look great? He’s got those cute short curls, he looks so good.

Does he fuck? That’s literally why he’s there: to fuck and to die.

Best paired with? Man, I wish I had something to work with here. The only thing we know about him besides his sexual prowess is his affinity for white suits and toy helicopters. And as far as I know, those might be the exact things Fabrizio from Nina finds hot in guys. So like, why not?

Loft (2010)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s the fifth most important character.

Is he hot? Yeah, sure.

Is he naked? There’s a scene where he’s wearing underwear and a tank top but it somehow makes him look like a kindergartener.

Does his hair look great? It looks quite nice.

Does he fuck? Yes, though I wish he didn’t.

Best paired with? Tom is a very violent person and a drug addict. He does messed up stuff to his sexual partners I’d rather he didn’t do to any of Luca’s characters. Feel free to use him for your sadistic fantasies or as a villain or whatever.

Rabat (2011)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s one of the three leads.

Is he hot? Oh yes! And cute!

Is he naked? He’s at the beach wearing nothing but boxer shorts.

Does his hair look great? He’s got this extreme undercut thing that would look ridiculous on anyone less pretty, so like no, he doesn’t have great hair, but also like it’s Marwan, you know what I mean?

Does he fuck? Before he embarks on a road trip with his friends, he has an offscreen threesome with two girls he picked up at a wedding. Slut.

Best paired with? Gabriele from Waves. They’re both sweet guys who could meet in some Tunisian port and decide to sail the Mediterranean Sea together.

Black Out (2012)

Will you miss him if you blink? Not unless your blinking is very deliberate.

Is he hot? Not really. He’s a dirty cop with a shitty moustache and oral fixation.

Is he naked? No, but I wish he was: his clothes are awful. Marwan is 29 in this movie and he looks 50!

Does his hair look great? Nope. They took Marwan’s usual short hair and made it not work somehow.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? The one thing Luca’s characters all have in common is that none of them come off as bootlickers. All of them are either too soft for such a relationship or wouldn’t waste their spit on a cop.

Wolf (2013)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the protagonist.

Is he hot? *gestures wildly at the gif*

Is he naked? He’s got quite a few shirtless scenes.

Does his hair look great? It’s nothing special but suits his character well.

Does he fuck? Oh yes.

Best paired with? Hear me out. I know that some people ship him with Fabio, but in my opinion that pair, while hot, doesn’t work. Here’s my pitch: Cesare from Non essere cattivo. The drug connection is still there, but in this case Majid’s problem-solving skills won’t fall on deaf ears. Cesare needs a daddy, ok? Majid can be a daddy when he needs to, especially when he has a soft boyfriend to care for. And Majid needs soft, not psycho.

Hartenstraat (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the protagonist once again.

Is he hot? Painfully.

Is he naked? There’s that iconic scene where he’s wearing nothing but black boxer briefs and boots while carrying a tray...

Does his hair look great? He’s got Joe-like curls and looks like what every male romantic lead should aspire to look like and then cry because they all fail.

Does he fuck? There’s one very unfortunate sex scene played for laughs. I’m pretty sure he’ll need therapy afterwards. I certainly do.

Best paired with? Paolo from Il padre d’Italia. Paolo deserves the best boyfriend, and who’s better than Daan, an extremely hot man who cooks? They both have daughters, so they can talk about that, I guess, and Paolo can finally have a family. Honestly, this is so wholesome I just made myself cry.

Lucia de B. (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? For sure.

Is he hot? He’s a cop. Again. But he looks good.

Is he naked? Fully dressed, but man are his clothes ugly. Is that a cop thing?

Does his hair look great? He has slightly longer curls, which is fine and the best thing about this character.

Does he fuck? ACAB. (I know this doesn’t answer the question, I just wanted to make it clear.)

Best paired with? See my bootlicker comment from earlier. While Detective *checks notes* Ron Leeflang isn’t explicitly corrupt, he’s obviously a dick, so the best I can do here is recommend any Luca character that has ever been in trouble with the law for any fics about power imbalance you want to write but aren’t comfortable with a nice Marwan playing the villain.

Bloedlink (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? Oh no, he’s there the entire time.

Is he hot? In a weird way, yes.

Is he naked? So, so, so naked. Like, leave nothing to the imagination naked.

Does his hair look great? I’d say that little rat tail is the exact opposite of great.

Does he fuck? Probably more than is good for him. I should also add that he’s canonically queer in this.

Best paired with? Rico is a pathetic loser in need of someone who’s got his life together and has a lot of experience dealing with fuckups. Enter Loris from Il mondo fino in fondo. He has a stable job and a savior complex, and with his little bro gaying it up in Chile and not needing him anymore, all he wants right now is someone to fix. I should be a fucking matchmaker in real life, for real.

Pak van mijn hart (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? Undoubtedly.

Is he hot? No. The whole point of his character is to be the lesser choice compared to a guy who looks like a completely ordinary bland white dude...

Is he naked? ...so of course he isn’t naked! What, are they gonna take this poor woman, show her Marwan Kenzari’s post-Wolf body and expect her to choose her deeply mediocre ex? Please! They’re gonna dress him in the dorkiest clothes possible...

Does his hair look great? ...and make him wear the most awful wig that was clearly run over by a truck.

Does he fuck? No. As you can observe, they tried really hard to make him unfuckable, but honestly, he seems like a perfectly nice guy.

Best paired with? You know what? Mattia from La solitudine dei numeri primi is in desperate need of some sweetness and normalcy. I’m sure Richard will treat him with kindness and respect.

Collide (2016)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s the fifth most important character. Out of five.

Is he hot? Very hot.

Is he naked? Not for a second! What’s up with American movies where people aren’t just casually walking around naked without any plot necessity???

Does his hair look great? His curls are so cute you guys! Look at them!

Does he fuck? Not explicitly.

Best paired with? Fabio from Lo chiamavano Jeeg Robot. Again, the drug connection is there, but Matthias is soft enough not to butt heads with Fabio and, by the end of the movie, rich enough to satisfy his cravings for good living and fame. Also look at how good their color coordination is with those dark wine red clothes! Sometimes planets just align, okay?

Ben-Hur (2016)

Will you miss him if you blink? Yes, especially if you aren’t watching the background.

Is he hot? Your usual Marwan hot.

Is he naked? No.

Does his hair look great? His typical short curls with a twist. I think the forehead area is supposed to invoke the Caesar cut? I don’t know. It looks fine when not hidden under that dumb helmet.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? A better script and a much better director. (Seriously, what is this blocking?)

The Promise (2016)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s there a decent amount in the first half of the movie and then almost completely disappears in the second half.

Is he hot? Very much, yes.

Is he naked? Unfortunately, no.

Does his hair look great? He’s got short curls again, but this time they’re fashionably styled, it’s magnificent.

Does he fuck? Oh yeah! And there’s no way he isn’t bi or pan in this. No way.

Best paired with? Roberta from L’ultimo terrestre. Listen, Emre Ogan may be a slut but he’s a gentleman, okay? He’d treat Roberta right and he’s got daddy’s cash to spare on hundreds of gorgeous white dresses for her.

The Mummy (2017)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s there, but barely.

Is he hot? Dangerously hot.

Is he naked? Not once! Instead we get a naked Tom Cruise literally no one asked for.

Does his hair look great? It’s your basic professional short hairdo.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? Malik is a member of an organization tracking and destroying various monsters and historical artefacts related to them. Guido from Tutti i santi giorni speaks four languages, including Latin, and is a literature and ancient history nerd which makes him a valuable asset. Malik can fight and protect; Guido is bumbling and in need of saving. Guys, this writes itself.

What Happened to Monday (2017)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, especially not in the third act.

Is he hot? He’s okay.

Is he naked? Very naked.

Does his hair look great? They shouldn’t have greased his curls back. He looks like another victim of Fabio Cannizzaro’s stylist. Also I wish he’d either shaved or finished growing out that beard.

Does he fuck? He fucks and he fucks good. He’ll go down on you, he’ll deflower you slowly and gently, he’ll choke you if you want him to, he’ll spoon you all night, he’ll give you emotional support, he’ll murder people for you - he’s down for whatever.

Best paired with? There’s one Luca character who needs a lot of sex and even more emotional support. Alright, most of them do, but I’m thinking of Ettore from Lasciate andare. He needs it, okay? Good dicking, good spooning, a good ear, a fine piece of ass to cry into - you get the gist. Most importantly: someone who’d love him for who he is and with whom he could relax and be himself. (Also, I see you, people comparing him to Fabio. Shame on you for sleeping on this soft boy and judging him based on his appearance.)

Murder on the Orient Express (2017)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s kinda always present, being very French.

Is he hot? Very hot.

Is he naked? No, but I’m willing to forgive that because he looks so good in his conductor uniform.

Does his hair look great? He never takes off his hat.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? Mickey Miranda. They’re both murderers morally dubious characters who would look hot together. What else do you need? (Again, I see you, people who want Pierre for Roberta because he’s a “nice guy”, and I know for a fact you didn’t watch the movie. Spoilers, I guess.)

The Angel (2018)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the protagonist.

Is he hot? Oh yes.

Is he naked? Not once, but you won’t regret it because he’s wearing excellently stylish 1970s clothes.

Does his hair look great? It looks fantastic. The sideburns (not yet seen here) are a good touch.

Does he fuck? He can definitely get it, but he’s loyal to his wife.

Best paired with? As the most aesthetically coherent and fashionably hot pair in this post, Ashraf and Primo are a no-brainer. Can you imagine Primo calling him “Angel” in different contexts? When he’s being intimidating, not realizing how palpable the sexual tension between them is, and later not even hiding his arousal? Sometimes things just work because they’re hot. That’s all, folks.

Aladdin (2019)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the main villain.

Is he hot? It’s not like he went viral for being the “hot Jafar” or anything.

Is he naked? No! Fucking thanks a lot, Disney.

Does his hair look great? He has a buzz cut under that turban but he looks good in the turban, so that’s something.

Does he fuck? It’s a Disney movie, so he doesn’t fuck - explicitly or otherwise - but he still comes off as a thirsty bitch.

Best paired with? Jafar ends the movie as a genie who’s obligated to grant his master three wishes but is enough of a petty bitch to exploit the hell out of the “gray area” and screw them over Wishmaster style. My unconventional pair for him is Lui from Ricordi? So many scenarios with distorted memories and magic-induced mindfuck. So many possibilities for awesome and messed up crossover gifsets! Don’t say I never give you guys anything.

Instinct (2019)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s very prominent.

Is he hot? I hate myself for finding him hot but I do.

Is he naked? He’s playing basketball shirtless in one scene, shaking his sweaty boobs everywhere.

Does his hair look great? His weird mohawk-like thing is honestly terrible, but if anything can make it work, it’s Marwan’s bone structure.

Does he fuck? Um, I’m pleading the Fifth on this one for the sake of good taste.

Best paired with? Prison. A very lonely, Luca-less prison.

The Old Guard (2020)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, unless blinking in your case means sleeping through the gloriousness that is the first ever canonically gay couple in an American action film.

Is he hot? Painfully.

Is he naked? Shirtless in one scene.

Does his hair look great? Soft curls courtesy of Luca Marinelli’s tireless lobbying.

Does he fuck? Not on screen, but you can just tell by the way he looks at his husband and reads impromptu poetry right to his face. And everybody knows nothing kindles the fires of passion quite like murdering homophobes together.

Best paired with? If you have to ask, you’re clearly reading this by mistake. In which case, kudos for finishing such a long and confusing post, now go watch The Old Guard and cry at the beauty that is The Immortal Marriage.

#marwan kenzari #luca marinelli #the old guard #and other movies #i'm lazy #immortal husbands #and their parallel versions i guess #crossover ships galore

[dancingamongstdust]

Old Habits (Warren Worthington x Reader)

So I was digging around in my old files and I found this from a few years ago. I’m sure I published it somewhere once but I have no idea where. Either way, the writing isn’t too bad so I thought some readers here may enjoy it. 

Before, when you originally met Warren, you had never had an issue with reaching out and grabbing his wings if he tried to march away from you. It had become a habit.

There would be an argument over something inconsequential and both of you would scream and shout like children. Warren would realise that his temper was getting out of control and try to stalk away from the fight before it got out of control. You would snatch a fistful of his feathers or the edge of a wing; anything that was within range was ample gain. It never hurt him but he stopped moving due to the sensation. Then he would turn around and kiss you until your lips were bruised and you couldn’t breathe properly.

This time…

You had been eternally grateful to Charles Xavier for bringing Warren back despite all his previous actions and your heart belonged to whoever had saved his life. When you had seen him walking through that portal, you had sold yourself on the notion that you would never be seeing him again. A bitter reality without the white angel wings that you had spent hours wrapped in.

The fight had been inconsequential really. Something about his sulking and yelling at anybody who tried to get close to him.

But now you withdrew your hand as quickly as you reached out.

Warren still spun around to look, the metal feathers screeching against the walls as he did so. Instead of kissing you, his eyes fell on your bloody hand and he reached for it with tentative hands. “I…” his words died in his throat.

You met his eyes with a clouded expression and sighed. “Sorry,” you said. “I forgot…” Your eyes fell on the huge metal wings and you sighed. “I didn’t think that through. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Warren said. “No, you shouldn’t have had to think about it in first place.” Unlike the feathered version, these wings made a horrendous noise when they bristled and even he winced at the sound. “Just go and get somebody to look at that.” And he stormed back into his temporary room, slamming the door far too loudly behind him.

You sighed, shoulders slumping. Charles had approached you to see if you could possibly fix the situation and maybe convince Warren to relax a little more in the mansion. His end goal obviously being to offer the angelic mutant a permanent place to stay.

Stomach churning, you hurried down the stairs to the nearest mutant that could heal your hand or at least somebody who knew basic medical skills.

Two stitches and a little bit of healing later, you were sitting in your own room and staring down at your bandages. While you had been standing up there, it hadn’t hurt at all but now it was burning like fire. You rubbed it gently and sighed. Warren had always been self-sabotaging. At this point, shutting you out could almost be classified as a hobby of his.

So eventually – at an hour that any reasonable person would be asleep at – you climbed out of bed and marched over to the room to quiet your wailing mind. If you didn’t know Warren’s self-destructive tendencies you would have presumed it was too late.

But you had lived with the man before.

You didn’t bother knocking. You knew that Warren would have pretended he didn’t hear you. So you counted on him forgetting – or purposefully – not locking the door.

“I’m tired of this,” you said when Warren finally noticed you and removed the headphones that were blaring rock music so loudly that you could hear them from across the room. You walked over and sat on an untouched desk, watching the winged mutant carefully. “Every day, you make me sit and watch you turn all that anger and hatred inwardly and I can’t do anything about it. I feel useless when it comes to you. Like there’s nothing I can do to help.”

“Help?” he scoffed. “Help what?”

“You.”

He rolled his eyes and sat up on the bed, those metal feathers screaming a symphony as they were dragged across the wall. “I don’t need your help,” he said. He glanced at your bandaged hand. “Look what happens when you try. I’m fine. They said that my feathered wings will grow back soon and then I’ll be able to get as far away from this fucking place as possible.”

“I want to stay.”

“Then stay.”

You gave a forced laugh. “And here I thought you knew me well enough to know that there isn’t a chance that you would leave without me following.”

Warren crossed his arms and his wings puffed up as he attempted to become more intimidating. It would work on most people. Not you. “Nobody likes codependent twits,” he grumbled. “But then again, it’s not my problem if you want to chase me around the country like some lost poodle. If you get killed, I don’t want anybody blaming it for me.”

“It’s not… alright, no, I’m not rising to that,” you said firmly. “No matter how often you insult me, I’m not going to leave and you know that by now. Warren, won’t you at least consider staying here? There are others who –“

“Joined forces with an ancient evil and attempted to bring about the end of the world because they were offered shiny wings then almost died and had to be saved by their enemy out of pity. Just so many of those assholes running around that I can barely even walk without seeing one.” His hair was falling into his face now but he didn’t seem interested in doing anything about it. “But they don’t count if they switched sides during the actual battle.”

“You were unconscious the majority of the battle.”

“Thank you for reminding me. I wasn’t aware.”

You sighed and reached out to move his hair away from his eyes. It said something that he didn’t move away despite the glare he was sending in your direction. “Wouldn’t you prefer to be able to rest for a little while until you got back onto your feet?” you asked. “I’ve been talking to some of the people here and they’re all friendly if you give them a chance.”

“I don’t see any weapons attached to your back that are constantly hurting people you actually care about,” he noted.

“My hand was my own fault,” you repeated. You stood up and moved closer, reaching the uninjured hand past his head and resting it gently on the metal of his feathers. “See? I’m being careful now and it’s not getting me hurt. If I had taken a few more seconds to think it through, I wouldn’t have grabbed your wing out of habit. But you said they’ll go back to being normal soon.”

“Apparently,” he said. “Some of them have fallen off but they’re meant to do that. What would you do if they stayed metal? You’d have to start finding your own beds instead of curling up next to me constantly. Something tells me you won’t find these wings ‘comforting’.”

A phrase you had always used when speaking about his wings and it hurt to hear him spit it with such bitterness in his tone. It had always been something genuine to you. “They probably won’t keep me as warm as the normal feathers,” you admitted. “But I don’t doubt that I could grow used to them and love them as much as I adored the originals.”

He scoffed. “Always a fucking optimist. Even when I have tattoos that probably will never fade etched into my face.”

“I’m not always an optimist,” you said. “When you disappeared into that cage fighting thing for months without telling me and then came back with your wing fried to a crisp, I was so worried that I thought I would vomit. I lost countless hours due to nightmares about waking up and finding you dead or missing again.”

“And then you did.”

“I was too late,” you said. “No matter what you said, I knew that your wings were making you distressed and I wanted to help but I didn’t know how. If I had figured out how to fix things sooner then there wouldn’t have been a reason for you to go with that asshole.”

Warren just glared at you and then flicked his bedside lamp off and lay down on his side. It used to hurt his wings when he slept like that but you were unsure that the metal felt anything. Either way, you lay your hand on his shoulder temporarily and then took the hint to leave the room. There was nothing else for you to say or do.

Almost a week passed where you only opened the door to throw random food and drink items at Warren where he was pretending to be asleep. Sometimes he would mumble something and other times he would continue to ignore you. You took the bandage off a few days later. It was something Warren undoubtedly noticed but he didn’t say anything until the day you opened the door to find everything strewn across the floor in such a state of disarray that you flinched.

“What’s the problem?” you asked.

Warren glanced at you out of the corner of his eye and muttered something about not having any shirts that weren’t torn to shreds by his new wings. Which later led to you going shopping and returning with a bunch of new shirts with cuts in the back for the new wings. It took you a while and he grumbled under his breath when you dumped them on the floor but you didn’t say anything.

The charade continued day in and day out but you weren’t deterred. You waited patiently for Warren with a well-learned routine. This had happened many times before. A waiting game that you had perfected over many years of worrying about the angelic mutant who held so much of your attention and your heart.

You walked through the door with a milkshake in hand when he was busy plucking the metal feathers off his wings. Silently, you placed it down and settled cross-legged behind him on the bed to help him peel off the shedding metal over the unreachable areas.

It came off easily and you happily spotted some of the soft, white feathers peeking out from beneath the metal. You ran your fingers happily over it and smiled. They would be returning soon.

“You’re going to need to preen these daily while they’re growing out,” you said. You didn’t expect an answer but you said it with the knowledge that you would be the one to do it. “Otherwise they’re going to be crooked and then you won’t be able to fly properly.”

Warren’s feathers fluttered slightly as he turned around to face you. They didn’t sound quite as horrible when they brushed against the wall now and there were fewer grooves than before. Deep scratch marks already tore up the bedframe and one of the bedside lamps had disappeared a week ago. “Just leave.”

“Alright. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Why do you bother?”

Your fingers brushed the doorknob and you shrugged. “It’s just force of habit now.”

#x-men #one shot #archangel #warren worthington x reader #warren worthington iii #x-men apocalypse

[lovely-jily]

almost caught

something for @jilytoberfest! prompt: "if we get caught-" "i'll make it worth your while, i promise."

i wrote this quickly and didn't revise it a ton, but im just excited to contribute for jilytober!!! hope you lovely's like:)

"Okay, James. I'm going to be completely frank here- and I wholeheartedly mean every word when I say this- this is perhaps the stupidest idea you've ever had- and you've had loads of stupid idea's."

"Oh, come on. Try to have some faith in me," James whispered back, opening one of the drawers of the desk. They were in the Ravenclaw Prefect's office. James had suspected that the Prefects were somehow involved with their Quidditch team cheating by using weighted and magic-infused balls. The only evidence he had to back his theory up was a "gut feeling" and the fact that the bludgers seemed to target the other team more often, which Lily chalked up to confirmation bias. While she disagreed with cheating, she figured a better idea was to talk to their Prefects, not snoop through their office.

"Famous last words," Lily rolled her eyes, "I can't believe that I let you drag me into this. If we get caught-"

"I'll make it worth your while, I promise," The boy reassured her as he looked up at Lily, messy dark curls hanging in front of his eyes. He had finished looking in the first drawer and moved to the one below it, quickly searching. Lily wasn't sure what he meant by that, "Besides, we won't get caught. Now, are you going to start searching, or are you going to make me do all the work like usual?"

"Like usual? Excuse me?" Lily said. She was standing in front of him, hands firmly planted on her hips disapprovingly before turning to the cabinets. Besides breaking his collarbone last night in a quidditch game (Which Madam Pomfrey fixed just fine, and if he followed her instructions, he'd be totally healed in days), the year was going swimmingly for James and Lily. She enjoyed working with him as Heads and was seeing real change in him. He was no longer a bully, and in fact, he always shut that sort of thing down.

"I don't even know what I'm looking for."

James just chuckled as he closed the second drawer, kneeling to search the third drawer, "Probably anything quidditch related."

"You've got the wrong person for this," Lily sighed. That was probably true. She knew nothing of sports- both muggle and wizard alike. She turned to the cabinets on the far wall, which was full of books, mostly student records, and smelled musty.

"You know, this would be so much easier if you just agreed to use the cloak with me," James commented as he stood up and brushed off his pants. Lily had grown to like him over the past few months and didn't mind working with him as co-Heads. He was kind, responsible, and enthusiastic enough that almost everyone adored him- even Lily. She was even starting to get butterflies around him, something she never thought could happen.

"I'm never going under that damn cloak with you," Lily said as she took out a book of student records. She dusted it off and then put it back where she found it.

"Never is a strong word," James said as he walked over to the wardrobe. He opened it up and stepped inside, pressing against the back of it to see if any secret openings were on the back wall.

"I know," Lily said, following him and standing behind him, "That's why I said it."

That's when they heard the door handle jiggle, indicating that someone was trying to come in.

Lily, panicking, looked up at James. He quickly grabbed her by her waist and lifted her into the broom closet, quietly slamming the door. One hand was on her waist, the other over her mouth to try and keep her quiet. He gently took it off and put it behind her head. One hand was still on her waist as he tangled his other in her hair.

Fucking hell, he was hot.

Lily's hands were holding tightly at the bottom hem of her skirt. She knew that if she didn't plant them there, they'd undoubtedly find themselves tangled in James's dark locks.

"Maybe you were right about that cloak," Lily whispered as they were both breathing heavily and pressed up against each other. She wondered if he could feel how hard her heart was beating. She wasn't sure if that was from fear of getting caught or being so close to James.

James just brought his finger back to her lips and shushed her softly. His breath was softly blowing on her bangs, which caused them to tickle her forehead. All Lily could do was look up at him, remembering what was going on outside the cabinet, hearing the door open. He then anxiously looked out through the crack of the wooden doors, trying to watch whoever she heard come in. Lily tried to ignore the way he was clenching his jaw. She noticed that was a sort of nervous tick of his, something that he did when anxious. One hand was still on her waist, the other resting on her hair on the nape of her neck.

Why was she caring more about James's hands on her than she did at the idea of getting caught?

"Weird, I swore I heard voices," Sabrina Wood, the sixth year Prefect, said.

"So did I," Robert Thomas responded.

James, seeming to spot something above Lily's head, quickly reached his hand up. However, he never got to inspect what he wanted to. Lily heard the sound of his collarbone crack, implying that it was rebroken. While Madam Pomfrey had patched him up just fine, she said he needed to refrain from sudden movements of reaching above his head. Lily now realized this was why.

James leaned forward and grimaced in pain. Still on Lily's neck, his hand grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled at it slightly.

"Fuck," He groaned quietly in Lily's ear, and she felt his hot breath against her ear and neck. Her eyes widened at how attractive that word was coming from his lips, silently cursing herself at the sinful thoughts that flashed in her mind.

The sound of footsteps walking around the office brought Lily back to the current reality. She looked above her see his arm clenched in a fist. He was in a lot of pain.

Wordlessly, she pulled out her wand and pointed it at his broken collarbone. She had practised nonverbal spells a number of times, although never this one. She wasn't sure if she'd ever done this one on a human before.

The footsteps were walking towards the wardrobe and she looked at James. He had relaxed his grip on Lily's hair (much to her disappointment) and moved it to her waist. He nodded slightly, giving her permission to try.

She wordlessly performed the healing charm. James gripped at her shirt in response to the painful snap of bone back in place, just as they heard Robert say something about how they needed to get back to their rounds. They heard the two leave and the door close, listening to the charm the Prefects performed to lock the door. Once they determined they were alone, James let out another groan as he brought his hand down from above Lily's head.

"Good girl," He exhaled as he melted into her, and Lily's eyes widened again. That should not make her feel the way it did, but regardless her toes crinkled and she tightened her grip on her wand.

"You alright?" She asked sheepishly, trying to relax. She was feeling bashful and disappointed that they now had to exit the wardrobe.

James, slightly sweaty from the pain, nodded and raised his other arm to what he wanted to look at earlier. He pressed against the wall, and a hidden drawer slightly popped out. He reached his hand in and pulled out a piece of parchment from inside it.

"Lumos," he said, still breathing heavily. The room lit up, and Lily looked at James, light reflecting on his glasses. He was looking so damn good, skin sticky and lips soft. She fought against the image of something else that could make James groan, sweat, and breathe heavily.

They both looked at the parchment, and written in neat handwriting was "For those who forget, use wingardium leviosa to control replaced quaffles."

James looked up at Lily, a victorious smirk on his face, which Lily couldn't help but smile at.

"God damn it," Lily said, annoyed that he was but also influenced by his contagious smile, "You actually were right."

"We did it, Evans," James said excitedly, putting his hands on her face and shaking it with enthusiasm.

Lily laughed, blushing at his hand placement, "For Ravenclaws, they really are thick. That was way too easy to find."

James shrugged and dropped his hands, "I don't really care too much. We'll take this right to McGonagall. She'll sort this whole thing out."

Lily nodded as he opened the wardrobe door, feeling the cooler air hit their skin. She blinked at the sudden brightness as he helped her out.

"I can't believe you could do that spell so well, and wordlessly too! You never fail to astonish me with your brilliance," James ruffled her hair with his empty hand and pocketed the parchment with his other.

Lily, blushing harder, smiled at him, "Says the idiot who rebroke his collarbone."

"True," James just laughed, putting his hand on Lily's back to push her forward. He then put both hands on her shoulder and shook them back and forth as he guided her out of the door of the office and down the corridor, "What would I do without you, Evans? My saviour."

Lily just laughed as she shrugged off his hands, playfully pushing him. She looked up at him, his hands clasped behind his back and glasses peering down at her.

"Probably walk around with a broken collarbone."

"Of course," He looked forward, "I've got a question for you, Miss Evans."

Lily's stomach lurched at that statement, and she bit her lip in anticipation, "Yes?"

He stepped in front of her, stopping her. His hands were still behind his back, and he looked down at her. They were nearly as close as they were in the wardrobe.

"Did you think about kissing me in that wardrobe?"

Shit. Fuck. How did he know??

Her stomach dropped, and while she was taken back from the question, but decided she wasn't too mad about it. So they were doing this now?

Lily, full of panic and anxiety, was determined to remain as calm and collected on the outside as she could. She smirked and tilted her head flirtatiously.

"Maybe. What's it to you?"

James smirked back and stepped back to Lily's side as they started to walk again, "Why didn't you?"

"For starters," Lily said, deciding to remain confident, started to lie, "You had a broken bone and seemed to be in a decent amount of pain."

James scoffed sarcastically, "I don't know what you're talking about. Didn't hurt at all."

"Ah, of course, it didn't," Lily looked at her feet as they walked as she remembered the way that he grabbed at her hair and his tone when he whispered "Fuck" in her ear. She got chills again.

They were heading to McGonagall's office. She wasn't sure how James would explain how he obtained the evidence to McGonagall, but she wasn't thinking about that too much at that point. They were talking about kissing, something much more compelling and appealing to Lily.

"Regardless, and back to the more important thing at hand," He smirked at her as he leaned to whisper in her ear, sending chills up Lily's spine, "Perhaps we can get stuck in another wardrobe soon- and don't hold back next time. I still have to make it up to you for nearly getting caught."

#jily fanfic #jily fanfiction #james potter #james x lily #jily fandom #marauders #jily fic #jilytober #jilytober fest #jilytober 2021 #mauraders era #jily fan fiction #jily #jily tension #tension #lily evans x james potter #james & peter & remus & sirius

[jimlingss]

(sorry my tumblr app glitched so im not sure if this was sent twice) taking a chance for the requests! how about a seokjin or namjoon arranged marriage au with this: “Am I your lockscreen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that.” 🎄 happy holidays!!

↳ Playground Promises

1.9k || 100% Light Fluff || Kim Seokjin

The bell rings.

Moments later, children are sprinting from the doors and flooding the playground. You watch in fondness as some climb the monkey bars while others sit and dig into the sandbox. All of them were forging their first friendships they’ll remember forever and you were their witness.

This is one of your favourite times of day. You enjoy seeing the kids have their fun, listening to their laughter and giggles, watching their games of tag to play pretend. But today, your enjoyment is interrupted by a certain male teacher that comes to stand behind you.

Tall. Dark. And handsome. His broad shoulders carry the weight of the third-grade class and practically the entire elementary school. But you’d never admit that out loud.

“It’s a bit chilly out today. You should’ve brought your coat with you.”

You hum.

Every staff member, married and single, swoons over Kim Seokjin. It’s hard not to. But if others knew what your relationship was with him, you’re sure you’d never hear the end of it. The kids would make a big fuss and so would all the staff and faculty, and you’d rather avoid that.

“I didn’t know you were on playground duty today.”

“I switched with Sana,” he says and leans over to smile. “Thought you could use some company.”

You scoff. “She’s perfectly fine company.”

The corner of his plump lip pulls. “If you want to talk about the mathletes program. And I’m pretty sure you don’t.”

Before you can respond, a boy approaches the two of you with pink cheeks and wind-swept hair. “Mr. Kim, can I go to the bathroom?” the third-grader asks in the midst of catching his breath and the older man nods.

“Go ahead. But don’t run in the hallway, Lucas.” 

Said boy grins and dashes off.

Seokjin turns to you and lowers his voice. “My mom’s been asking about the kids.”

Your brows furrow. “Why? They’re a good bunch.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I don’t mean your class’ kids, I mean our kids.”

You blink owlishly. “There are no our kids.”

“That’s the problem.”

You sigh and roll your eyes. “Wasn’t getting married enough for them?”

Seokjin shrugs with a faint, mischievous smile. “They want to go out for brunch with your parents this Sunday. Are you free?”

“When am I not free?” you retort lightly, but slip your phone out of your pocket to check your calendar anyhow. Seokjin glances over to your screen and once you finish, you slip it back into your pocket. “I have some marking to do, but I’ll probably finish by then.”

“Okay.” The pair of you turn back to continue monitoring the children playing and you’re glad to revel in the silence that’s been created between you. But after a beat, Kim Seokjin pipes up again. You don’t know why you’re surprised. He’s quite the talkative guy. “Hey, Y/N.”

You look over and he meets your eye.

He asks, “Am I your lock screen?”

Your face heats. If you were once cold, now you were warm from head to toe. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” you mumble. It was just a picture from the other day and you wanted to change things up on your phone. You had nothing else to use. It was convenient. That’s it.

Your entire relationship with him is built on convenience. At least...on his side it is.

Still, Seokjin grins and fortunately, he doesn’t tease.

You rush to change the subject. “A-Anyway, yeah, Sunday works for me. But we should probably talk about this after work.”

“Why? No one’s around.” His smile is spread from ear to ear and he leans in, whispering, “Are you that scared of people finding out we’re married?”

Immediately, you whip your head in all directions. Luckily, there’s no kid or nosy faculty member. You turn back to him, glaring. “I already said, I like to keep my private life under wraps.”

“I remember. But if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were embarrassed of me.”

You scoff and a murmur unintentionally spills out of you, “That’s impossible.”

You don’t notice Seokjin’s smile.

It’s been three months since you got married. It was a summer wedding. More importantly, it was an arranged marriage. And not because you were both wealthy and needed to be wedded to get the inheritance under some arbitrary contract rule or because it was your grandmother’s dying wish. No. You live a much more mundane, normal life than the dramas, movies and books.

It was your mom who threw a fuss. She was scared you’d be alone and unmarried, an old maid like your aunt — you didn’t say it, she just heavily implied it. But following her practically senile meltdown, you agreed. Partly to appease her worries and partly just out of curiosity.

You always wanted to get married. And deep down, you always wanted your own kids. But at the rate you were going, you had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to meet someone on your own.

What you didn’t expect on that blind date was for the other person to be Kim Seokjin, third grade teacher. Down the hall from you at the school. Someone across the room every lunchtime. Your dads were apparently long time colleagues, but Jin was still as equally shocked as you were during that first meeting. Yet, he easily agreed to getting married when you brought it up. Even when it was only after two months of occasionally seeing one another outside of your workplaces.

You still don’t know why he said yes.

“Ms. L/N!”

You’re torn out of your trance by a little girl at your knees. 

She pouts. “Jennie won’t let me play on the slide!”

“Did you ask her to share?”

“Yes!”

Before any more can be said, she drags you over and Seokjin trails after you. There’s another girl with brown braided hair climbing on the slide, and she swivels her head over as the two of you approach, eyes the size of saucers. 

“Are you taking turns, Jennie?” you ask her, and she vigorously nods.

“I am!”

“Well, you’ve been on it for a while. How about Lisa takes a turn next.”

“Okay,” she draws out and gets off of the slide before turning to her friend. “Here you go.”

It’s always little problems you have to solve — from sharing to knee scrapes and monkey bar accidents. Sometimes it’s difficult for the children to compromise, difficult for them to apologize and difficult for you to find a good solution. But you undoubtedly wish your own issues were this simple.

While you’re stuck in your thoughts, you miss Jin watching you fondly. 

“You’re good with kids,” he says as you move out of the way of running children and walk back to the perimeter.

“I wouldn’t be doing this job if I wasn’t. But I deal with older kids much better.” There’s a reason you teach fifth graders and not any lower than that. Seokjin knows it too.

“Remember when we had to supervise that kindergarten class together?”

You shudder. “It was a nightmare.”

“You weren’t that bad,” he tries to say but then laughs. You feign a glare, and he adds on, “Okay. I’m sorry, but I still mean it. It’s not as terrible as you thought. You’d make a good mom.” 

At that, your glare vanishes in favour of furrowing brows. You really shouldn’t, but you can’t help it when curiosity pries — so you break your own rule against discussing private matters at work. 

“Do you want my kids?”

Seokjin is wide-eyed and he turns to you. “Why not? We’re married.”

“Yeah….but…”

“But? Do you not want kids?” 

“No! I definitely want them,” you declare, almost a bit too boldly. He nods and you explain, “It’s just...I don’t know if you’re serious.”

Seokjin blinks. “I’m being perfectly serious.”

“I mean I don’t know if we’re serious.” You add, “Enough to have kids.”

“What’s more serious than being married?” Jin has a genuinely inquisitive and amused expression, head quirked to the side. 

You inhale a sharp breath and his gaze coaxes you to go on, so you do. “It’s just that you agreed so quickly to be married to me. It doesn’t….feel real. I don’t know if you wanted to marry me, if you did it on a whim, if this is some kind of joke—”

He frowns. “This isn’t a joke, Y/N. I wanted to marry you.”

Your mouth hangs open. Your eyes are rounded.

“Wh—”

“Mrs. L/N!” You’re interrupted by your fifth-grader, Park Jimin. He sprints to you, huffing and puffing, before leaning his hands onto his knees to catch his breath. “Have you seen Taehyung?! We’re playing tag!”

“No, I haven’t.”

Jin suddenly points to the left. “He went that way.”

Jimin books it.

Silence fills the spaces between you and Seokjin again, but it isn’t like normal. It’s filled with unanswered questions and the suspenseful cliffhanger of an unfinished conversation. The laughter of kids on the playground and field resound around you, but for the first time, you don’t listen to it. 

It fades into the background as you turn to Seokjin, wanting to know more. “What did you just say?”

The man smiles softly. “You have to know.”

“I don’t,” you assert. “So tell me.”

“I’ve always liked you.”

You blink and he continues, “Since you substituted for the art teacher and I saw you squirt red paint all over yourself. It’s something I couldn’t forget. Plus, the way you draw those stick people.” Seokjin laughs heartily and you’re trapped in your spot, unsure of how to react or what to say. He reads your expression and softens. “Did you really think I would rush into a marriage if I didn’t have feelings for you?”

“I…” Your mouth is agape. “I don’t know. Why did we never talk about this?”

Seokjin shrugs. “You never asked and I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable if you didn’t feel the same way. I knew you married me for convenience.”

“That’s not true,” you retort within a beat. This whole time, you thought he married you for convenience sake. But it wasn’t entirely like that for you.

Seokjin’s eyes are big and you swallow down your embarrassment. “Isn’t it obvious every single breathing person loves you? It’s hard not to.”

Slowly but surely, a grin spreads into Seokjin’s puffy cheeks and he’s smiling from ear to ear again. “Well, you’re very good at hiding it then.”

Suddenly, the bell rings.

All the children reluctantly climb off the equipment, some dusting their hands while others grabbing their friends, and they rush into their lineups. There’s a few stranglers lugging their legs while groaning. But busy in their small playground worlds, no one turns around to notice you leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to Seokjin’s mouth. It’s shy and brief, like the first peck exchanged between two for the first time. And you pull away just as fast, lips left tingling.

“We can continue this later, Mr. Kim.”

You stride off while Seokjin’s left smiling. After a breathless moment, he chases after you like children who have just made promises of their first love on the playground.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jin fanfic #jin fluff #jin scenario #jin reader insert #jin x reader #seokjin reader insert #seokjin fanfic #seokjin scenario #THIS IS MY LAST DRABBLE Y'ALL :D #anonymous

[writefightandflightclub]

Right behind you:(Bodyguard!Santiago “Pope” Garcia x M!Celebrity!reader)

This is my offering for this week’s #writerwednesday from @autumnleaves1991-blog, which this week is joint with @flightlessangelwings’ Jey’s Pride celebration! 🥳

The verbal prompt was: glitter and/or “I’ll always be by your side.”

The visual prompt is the photo below.

This gave me the idea for a very quickly written one shot with bodyguard!Santi and male celebrity reader! I hope you like it!

Warnings: food mentions; mentions of panic attack / hyperventilating. Mentions of sensory overload. One mention of Santi “sucking off” reader. Language. TYPOS, undoubtedly.

Rating: mature for mentions of oral sex but no explicit / actual smut.

Gender stuff: he/him pronouns / masc! terms of endearment used for reader. Implied that reader is a penis owner - no other physical descriptions besides reader wearing a suit and some make-up.

Genre: angst then mainly fluff and happiness! Hurt / comfort, I guess.

ALSO: BONUS CAMEO FROM ANOTHER OSCAR CHARACTER. Did you spot him?

You perch on the couch in your suite, taking steadying breaths and trying desperately to ward off hyperventilation as your bodyguard grips your trembling hand firmly in his. The air is quaking in and out of your lungs and you can no longer help the tears which spike in your eyes and spill over on to your cheeks.

He gives your fingers a squeeze as he crouches before you, and you can’t help the surge of guilt that this is so far outside of his job description. He’s meant to protect you, not comfort you. His work centres on your physical well-being, but you can’t count the times he’s bolstered your emotional well-being too. Then again, this is the only time he’s done so quite as blatantly in front of the rest of your staff, perhaps.

“Oh no, don’t you dare cry, sweetie,” your make-up artist - who will not be getting rehired you decide suddenly- flaps around you, attempting to fuss over you with a tissue. Her panic about her work being ruined at the worst possible moment is plain as day, and it only makes your chest constrict further.

“This isn’t helping” is the only thought blaring loudly in your mind, but you cannot for the life of you push the words out right now. You shut your eyes in an attempt to block it all out. To subdue the sensory overload.

You are thankful that your bodyguard intuits that sentiment on your behalf when you can’t, and you hear his voice is coming from a different angle now, his head whipped sharply sideward and up towards the offending MUA.

“For real? Ffff....” you close your eyes and hear Santi bite down on a curse. You’d laugh if you weren’t so preoccupied, trying desperately to focus on his voice amidst the chaotic, intersecting hubbub of the room. “Ma’am, could you please back the shit up?” He bites. Apparently he can’t stifle the cursing entirely.

Your limp hand travels along with his as he waves his arm around emphatically. “In fact. Out. Everyone out. Now. Please.”

His request slices through the nervous air in the room, his words deep and commanding and delivered with an authority that you doubt anyone would dare question. This man must be obeyed, and in the back of your mind you congratulate yourself for your decision to take a chance on hiring this moody ex-soldier with creaky knees. When he needed to he could certainly clear a room. And on top of that, he offers you a whole lot more besides.

Indeed, here he is, going above and beyond, kneeling on said creaky knees for you. Protecting you, and comforting you too.

Your eyes are still closed as the room gradually quietens, until it is so still you could hear a pin drop. Until you can hear the steady rise and fall of Santi’s breath. Until you can hear the delicate wet noise of his lips parting so his tongue can skim his lips. You can hear him swallow.

As you hear the sound of the final remaining person shuffle out, and the door gently click closed behind them, you are finally able to peel open your eyes. You are able finally able to release your bottom lip from the grip of your teeth, an indent having formed where you have bitten down so hard you have threatened to draw blood.

Santi is as still as death as he waits, and as soon as he hears that final click, he is moving. Only then, does he allow his (thin) veneer of professionalism to collapse. He allows the flats of his palms to snake up your thighs, rubbing reassuring shapes into you, and you feel the familiar heat and press of of him through the luxe fabric of your suit trousers.

“Look at me, cariño,” he soothes, in a deep, fond tone, entirely different to those bitten off commands reserved for the rest of your entourage. “It’s just you and me now. Look at me, baby.”

You do. You look into his big brown eyes and you and he could be the only two people in the world, never mind the room. You sniff, and you fumble away a stray tear before settling your palms on top of his.

You slow your breathing and Santi flashes you a small, proud smile. “That’s it, honey. Nice and slow. Just like that.”

Then, he flinches, his head leaning to the side as though he could physically retreat from whatever angry voice is no doubt blaring into his ear. Then, he makes a point of taking the earpiece out altogether, letting it hang over the collar of his white shirt.

He tugs in a huge exhale too, letting go of the tension he held in his body through his concern for you, although his eyes slit flit around your face in residual concern.

“They’ll be mad you did that,” you warn, with a nod to his earpiece.

“Whatever. It’s not my job to get you to the red carpet on time. It’s my job to look after you.”

“Your job? Hmm? That all I am to you?”

He flashes you a lopsided smile as you tease him. “I’m a lucky man. My job happens to be a thing I love doing outside of work too.” You lift your palm to his face, the familiar texture of his stubble beneath your fingers. “Now, honey. No rush. But do you wanna tell me what’s going on?”

You look away from him then as you realise he won’t let you distract him enough to avoid the true issue at hand, but his hands are still languidly smoothing your thighs, and you know he won’t make you do anything you don’t want to before you’re ready. He might dole out some tough love, eventually, but not until he is sure that you can take it. He lets you fumble until you find the words. “It’s... even the thought of it, Santi. This is the biggest thing I’ve ever done. All those cameras. All those eyes on me, I...”

Santi shushes you, as he hears the resurgent panic creep into your voice, even as your fingertips idly trace over his handsome features, a self-soothing unconscious thing, as he continues to kneel before you.

But while you may be panicked, he’s smiling. Looking up at you earnestly. “You deserve all those eyes on you, hermoso.” You don’t mind at all that when his voice comes out now it’s both fond and a just a little dirty as his own, very attentive eyes sweep over you.

“I don’t know...” You nibble on your lip again.

“Baby. You deserve this night. You’ve worked so hard for this. You’re so talented. And holy shit. You look so fucking hot in this suit I can barely function.” You let out a small, tentative laugh, which Santi seems pleased by, his own eyes creasing at the corners in return. “Besides,” he continues, tone more earnest now, his thick brows raised as he hammers his point home. “I’ll be right there. Just a few steps behind you, okay, mi Principe?”

You take one more deep breath, expelling it slowly and steadily through the “o” of your mouth, and Santi can’t resist your pursed lips a moment longer. Yet, for all his comments about how hot you are, his kiss is not as devouring as you might expect. It is a soft, tender thing, barely skimming your lips, and yet even so it appears to inspire a reverent heat in him, his eyelashes fanned on his cheek as his eyes remain closed a moment longer. As he expels a gust of disbelieving air at how you make him feel from this alone.

“Or,” he proposes, his voice breathy. “We could sack this whole thing off? We could order chilli cheese fries to the room and I can suck you off until you can’t think straight?”

You kiss him again, this time giving him just a hint of tongue, even as you laugh musically into his open, increasingly eager mouth.

“Appealing as that sounds, my love, I probably shouldn’t miss this...” you nod your head towards the door “...lil thing.”

“Yeah. Probably.” Santi concedes with a fond, lopsided smile, his eyes flashing with adoration, until he reluctantly schools himself back to something resembling professionalism. He gives you a few moments to gather yourself, and for his... eagerness to subside, before asking “You ready?”.

You nod. “Ready as I’m gonna get.”

“There he is. That’s my man.” Santi gives your thighs one more squeeze before he stands, and you swear you hear his poor knees creak; and then, he is replacing his ear piece, his face becoming all business as he presses two fingers to his ear. “Kolpakov? We’re ready to move out. Everyone in position?”

He awaits the response before turning back to you, practically gasping as he sees you stood there in all your glory for the first time. His eyes sweep up and down the length of you. He shakes his head incredulously, switching his mic off for a moment more. “Fuck me. You look like a fucking dream.”

“Not so bad yourself,” you respond in a loving, flirtatious tone, dancing your fingertips across his chest as you sweep past him towards the doorway and he turns with you as if in your thrall.

As you prepare, taking another deep breath and gripping the handle, Santi reaches for your arm, delaying you for just another moment. “Santi,” you laugh. “We can do the chilli cheese fries later, I promise.”

But that’s not quite what he has in mind. He looks at you intensely, and he cups your face in his broad palm. “Don’t forget. You deserve those eyes on you. But if you get overwhelmed, know that my eyes are on you. Wherever you go, I’ll be right behind you.”

The sentiment and sincerity with which he says this makes your mouth fall open in shock. Makes your chest constrict with happiness rather than nerves - but you aren’t afforded the opportunity to respond. In the next moments, the door is flung open, and your entourage is flooding you, barking directions and whisking you down the staircase and out on to the red carpet.

You are pulled away from Santi, and you don’t get to be near him again, besides a quick, surreptitious whisper into the shell of your ear as he follows you out the door “we need to talk about your ass in these pants because holy shit” - but that is all you can steal.

True to his word though, wherever you go he is right behind you. He is there with a firm arm to form a protective wall should a photographer come too close, or a fan get too handsy over a barrier. He is standing, stern and formidable to your rear as you provide sound bites to the tv stations forming a line up to the venue (and, trying very hard not to ogle your ass in these pants, probably).

He’s right behind you, designed to fade into the background in every sense. For all his charisma, he’s good at it. Not drawing attention. Even his suit is designed to be non-descript.

But... that’s not where he should be, you realise.

And, when you are almost at the end of the carpet, you stop in your tracks. You hesitate, and you turn around, your gaze instantly finding him in the crowd. He looks concerned, alarmed, as though you may have gotten the jitters again and like you might be about to do a runner.

But that’s not it. That’s not it at all.

In fact, you are more calm and sure than you have been all evening, looking at his befuddled, deer in headlights expression as all the attention suddenly falls on him. He has some big talk and a tough exterior, but the centre of him is soft, and you love that about him.

And so, a cautious smile blooms on your face as you settle firmly on your plan of action, and you walk determinedly in the “wrong” direction, going against the stream of attendees and making a beeline for your love, as he, for once -your man of action- stands frozen in confusion.

Then, when you arrive at him you stop, placing both your hands flat on the lapels of his suit, smoothing them down.

“What are you-?” he begins to ask, but you cut him off.

“Santi, my love. This is ridiculous. I don’t want you behind me. I want you by my side. Where you should be. So, fuck it. Will you do me the honour of accompanying me to this premiere?”

He answers with a smile. With sparkling eyes. With his arms flung around your waist. With the press of his curved lips against yours, and a slip of his supple tongue. “Baby. I’ll always be by your side.” His hands slip a little lower. “Or - you know - sometimes right behind you.” He winks at you. God, you adore this idiot.

So, you wrap your arms around him, guffawing fondly into his neck before kissing him again, more deeply, not caring who’s watching. Your face splits with a beaming smile as you break from the embrace and link your arm into his, proceeding to walk up the carpet again: together this time.

“Fuck me though, honey,” Santi leans over to confide in you as he straightens up his tie, as if suddenly noticing the photographers for the first time now that they are noticing him. “You could have warned me you were going to french me on the red carpet, I would have put on a better suit.”

You laugh warmly as he continues to babble, and you reassure him that he looks perfect.

You know he’s doing his best to mask it, but he’s the nervous one now - you can tell. “Don’t worry, handsome,” you reassure. “Just you and me, remember?”

No-one else in the world.

“Jesus. How do you do this?” he asks, balking at all of the camera flashes going off in his face, his voice choked.

Luckily, Kolpakov - his second in command- figures out what’s happening and takes the cue to intervene, shifting the line back just a little to give the two of you some space. A good job too as you see beads of sweat forming on your love’s brow.

“How do I do this?” you ponder. “Well, I always have you to protect me, right?” You squeeze his arm tenderly. “And I’ll protect you now, my darling.”

This- having him by your side? You have no doubt that this feels right. It is where he has been all along, albeit only in the shadows. In private moments. But tonight, as he encouraged you into the spotlight, you realised how little you cared for hiding. You need him with you.

“Jesus,” Santi chuckles, looking around and trying to take everything in. “The boys are gonna have a fucking field day with this one. I didn’t even tell them we were dating.”

“What the hell, Garcia?!” you chide fondly, mouth open in a shocked “o”, before beginning to chatter and banter away with him as you easily fall into step together. Distracting him from his nerves like he always does for you.

With Santi by your side, you no longer care about all of the other eyes on you. All of the camera flashes. The crowds. Those watching at home.

You’re proud of your achievements. You’re proud of your relationship. And besides, the only eyes on you which you pay any heed to are his. Santiago’s gorgeous brown eyes, which, right now, shine with nothing but pride.

Yours shine right back.

You think he is the one who deserves all eyes on him, tonight.

#santiago pope garcia x reader #writer wednesday #Oscar Isaac #triple frontier #santiago pope garcia #male reader #m!reader #mlm

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Of bees and bonnets - Chapter 2

So, a bit more background on different characters...

-> Part 1

Summary: Victorian AU - love, social conventions, secrets - Explicit (but not yet) - many characters

Words: 1,5 k

Characters: Thorin, Dís, Kíli, Fíli, Ori, OCs

Upon entering the main salon, Lilly was first struck by how static everything looked; the room was painfully clean but cluttered with things that looked ‘disused’ and abandoned.

The settees were upholstered in colours and styles that had been démodé for too long a time to have gone unnoticed and there were knickknacks strewn around that seemed incongruous in the home of a middle-aged widow and her older brother. These were the things of a young woman, Lilly thought and – immediately – she wondered if her future Mistress would be one of those wilted beauties crying about their first season every other week.

As her eyes slid over silk and velvet, exquisite in quality but pale with age, she had to admit that this first room was intriguing her by containing this many hints of information without telling her anything definitive about her employers.

The centrepiece of that strange three-dimensional painting of faded glory was undoubtedly the man standing by the fireplace though: tall, stiff, and handsome in a sharp way, he had the bluest eyes she had ever seen in her life.

“Mistress Elisabeth,” he bowed slightly, his demeanour a melancholic blend of military and anachronistically formal.

“Lilly,” she corrected, “you may call me Lilly.”

He blinked a few times before nodding slowly, “very well, Miss Lilly then.”

So, this was the man who had advertised to find a companion for his sister, Lilly thought, surprised by how good-looking he still was; she had expected a decrepit old man – maybe even infirm with age already – rather than this very serious middle-aged nobleman eyeing her calmly.

“I have picked out your references amongst many others,” he spoke, “and I think you will get along great with my sister.”

Lilly wondered if the woman in the huge painting over the fireplace was said sister, but that dainty creature looked nothing like the man facing her now; she was pallid and slender, fair-haired and pale-eyed, with a mouth like a spring rosebud and tiny, white hands folded neatly in her lap.

She was right.

The sister was an imperious woman with raven locks bound impatiently into tight braids that were pinned haphazardly at the back of her head and eyes the colour of woodsmoke.

“Dís, this is Miss Lilly,” Thorin introduced the women, and the usual gestures of greeting and respect were executed with habitual precision but profound disinterest.

“Tell me something about yourself that shocks me,” Dís demanded, waving her brother out of the room; if she was to have a companion forced upon her, she wanted her to be at least somewhat entertaining lest she completely defeat the purpose.

“I will die a spinster most probably,” Lilly replied, “and I don’t mind the lack of a husband – they seem to be rather tiresome creatures – but I regret never having been kissed.”

Dís cocked her head, waving at the younger woman to go on.

“My needlework is excellent, but I hate it; my singing is not as excellent, but I love it,” Lilly obliged her employer, thoroughly enjoying the spark in the other woman’s eyes that spoke of wit and humour beyond what was seemly and acceptable in a dignified widow of the upper classes.

“I have two sons,” Dís said, getting – rather ruthlessly – to the heart of another worry of hers, “did you come here with designs upon them?”

“How could I?” Lilly replied, “I’ve never seen them. My dear spinsterhood – decided as it is – shall not be threatened by anything other than true love.”

She pressed her lips together to stifle the undignified chuckle making its way to her lips and flinched when Lady Dís threw her head back and broke into roaring laughter.

“Come child,” she invited, the mask of the perfectly well-bred and soft-spoken lady sliding back into place as she led Lilly down a gallery until she pointed at another huge painting.

“The one on the right is Fíli, my oldest, and the other one is Kíli, my youngest,” she said in a tone that betrayed worry and deep love at the same time.

How many had there been between them, Lilly wondered, but this was not a question one was allowed to ask any stranger, let alone an employer one had only just met.

“They are handsome,” she complimented in a soft, polite voice for they weregood-looking men – tall and stately – who would bring great honour to their house and name if there was to be another war.

“They are on their way back home,” Lady Dís informed her.

There was something else in her tone now, Lilly noticed, but she was unable to really pinpoint it. Apprehension? Nervousness? A guilty conscience?

“They’ll throw debutantes at Fíli as soon as he comes through the door,” Kíli laughed between two swigs of watered-down ale, earning a sour look from his older brother.

“And you’ll be spared?” Ori asked soberly; he had done his schooling on a stipend due to his studious nature and he was not entirely sure if he should envy Fíli or not.

On the one hand, his friend was guaranteed a thing that might well be a chore to him and that would have been an extraordinary but rather unattainable luxury to Ori: a wife.

On the other hand, he was not entirely sure if he would have wanted women to be forced into meeting him, but that might also have been linked to the fact that the fairer sex usually seemed rather uninterested if not outright disappointed whenever they made his acquaintance.

“It will be great fun,” Kíli tried to cheer his brother up as well as he could; young and impressionable, he still hoped for an epic love story to unfold before his very eyes.

“He has been away for years,” Victoria muttered, her rosy lips settling into a moue that was both charming and disheartening to her dear mama.

“You liked him well though,” the older dame prompted her oldest daughter encouragingly; Fíli was a good match, and the connection would bring great honour to the house.

“You have to think of your younger sisters as well,” she pressed on, setting aside the bonnet she had been decorating painstakingly for her youngest daughter and giving Victoria a stern look.

“I know,” the girl sighed.

It was true, when she had met Fí – back when they had been naïve children – at picnics and dances, she had found him to be charming and always in good spirits, but that was neither here nor there when it came to securing an advantageous match.

She resented the idea of being pushed upon a man who had just returned from extensive schooling that was entirely unreachable to her on grounds of her sex.

There would be so many young debutantes desperately vying for his attention as it was, and the mere thought of the indignity to be suffered in the name of her family made her stomach churn.

“We shall call upon them as soon as they are back,” her mother declared in a definitive tone, “I have heard from the baker’s wife that they might already have set out.”

Victoria had not seen the oldest son of the forbidding widow on the cliff for years, but she would have been lying if she said that she was not in the least curious to see if the dandelion boy had grown into a golden man.

As the days melted into the rocky earth around her, Lilly – who had grown up in bustling crowds and big cities – learned to love the rolling hills and the sharp cliffs.

Often, she felt as if she had been dropped into a completely different world and she would stand for minutes on end merely watching the wind chase its tail through the rough, high grasses or the sun filter through the dense clouds with stubborn persistence.

She was a fish on land, she knew, but she was also eager to discover this new and unhospitable environment and claim beautiful discoveries that soothed the heartache of being alone in the world.

Her hosts revealed themselves to be kind underneath their slightly rusty politeness and – much to her surprise – Lady Dís was a woman of great verve and impeccable wit.

Most of all though, she relished in the relative freedom she had found in this house; whenever Lady Dís did not need her, she was free and welcome to sit in the library or to go for walks along the cliffs.

“Oh,” she said one day, her brow darkening, “that oaf of a brother of mine!”

Hastening her steps, Lilly joined her in the hall to find her mistress holding a pristine white envelope.

“I told him to take this letter to the post office when he leaves,” Lady Dís mumbled in that annoyed tone that was reserved for private conversations; Lilly always felt that it was a privilege to share her most visceral reactions and her most private thoughts.

“I can take it now?” she offered; after all, her mission was to support and aid the Lady in all things within her might.

“Oh no, child,” Dís laughed, “Thorin has taken the carriage…and Dwalin.”

“I can walk down to the village,” Lilly insisted with a warm smile, “it is a fine day.”

And so, she made it to the post office – where another letter was waiting for her mistress – and was on her way back when she found herself confronted with the most unexpected danger.

So, I hope this is still enjoyable :D

Love you all <3

Taglist:

@blairsanne

@narniaandthenorth

@fizzyxcustard

@laurfilijames

@myselfandfantasy

@legolasbadass

@linasofia

@lathalea

@midearthwritings

@guardianofrivendell

@clumsy-wonderland

@fckmini

@tharan-duil

I am sorry, I have not checked exactly...If you want to be added to the taglist (or removed) please let me know 💖

#the hobbit #fanfiction #ori #ori the dwarf #thorin #dís #fíli #kíli #victorian au #mystery #drama? #meet the characters #tension #first clouds at the horizon?

[butwhatifidothis]

So. Took a look into that fic @nilsh13 is going through the comments of. Dunno if I’ll actually go through the entire thing - 300k words is certainly a lot of words to read through, especially with it still updating, but I’ve read through/am reading through longer ones - but I jumped to the latest chapter to get a feel for where the fic’s at now.

I’m not halfway through the chapter and I have Words To Say lmao, under the cut

This is going to be as serious a critique about the sections I’ve selected as possible - I want to be clear why I think what is being written is not of high quality, pointing out specifically what I have wrong with it. 

Here are some snippets of the fic (boldened), and following those snippets are my thoughts on them:

“My actions have caused immense turmoil, pitting friend against friend, mother against daughter, and brother against sister*,” muttered Edelgard, desperately trying to drive any hint of self-pity (emphasis mine) from her voice. “My best friend has been disowned by her family, Hubert and Ferdinand’s fathers are dead or imprisoned, and the woman I love is now deemed a heretic by the Church that once offered her shelter. The weight of my decisions seems to pull down all who are caught in the shadow of the Imperial crown.” The Flame Emperor gave Professor Hanneman a wan smile. “Whatever imagined slights you believe you have committed against me, they pale in comparison to the carnage my own words and deeds have unleashed.” 

""I made my choice, the only choice I could make, and dragged this continent down to hell with me. It makes me a poor ruler, and an even baser person, but that was the path I knew I must take."" 

“"It is funny you use the word ‘choice’, Miss Edelgard. When I resigned my title to study at Garreg Mach, I lost marriage prospects, became penniless outside of a small stipend…I even renounced the opportunity to have a family.” Hanneman smiled, his whole body suffused with melancholy. “Really, how could I dare to dream of bringing a daughter into a world this senseless and cruel, knowing that someday, she too, could be hurt in such a way? I…I would not survive it.” The man’s body shook. “I sacrificed those things, things I desperately wanted, because the chance to allow my sister to rest in peace was more important. And I would make that choice again, despite all that it has cost me. You are much the same.”"

"“But your sacrifices were your own,” protested the Emperor of Adrestia. “Thousands bleed for the choices that I have made, and sacrifice themselves for the cause that I have placed before them. There is a profound difference-“"

"“We are both wise enough to know a painful truth,” said the scholar with a melancholy smile. “No matter how grave the sins, no matter how many innocents suffer…there will be countless individuals who will defend the law not because it is just, or righteous, but because it is the law. They will permit a hundred Abysses, and a thousand women to be raped, and a million dead children, as long as such actions do not disturb their order.” He placed a hand on Edelgard’s shoulder. “To stand against such moral rot, knowing that the world will despise and vilify you for it, is the truest sign of not only a just ruler, but a good woman.”"

"The academic’s words blazed with the passion of both a scholar and a man who had watched his world crumble to ash. A man who had been forced to live in the remnants of a life forever altered by the cruelty of both society and of humanity. And yet he had fought, the only way he could, to make the world better. It gave the Flame Emperor new resolve."

"“I…” He turned and looked away. “I believe in you, Miss Edelgard. When I see you, and your determination, your spirit, your bravery in choosing not what is easy, but what is right…it reminds me of her.” Fingers clenched around his locket. “I will fight for you, in the way I should have fought for my sister, long ago. My strength is meagre, and my courage more meagre still. However, all of it is yours.”" 

The author writes Edelgard as one trying to give pity onto herself for her actions, despite how negatively they affect her, due to the immense ramifications those actions have had on those both around her and those under her care. This is the appropriate response to someone who has done as morally dubious an action as starting and spearheading a war that has led to the deaths and suffering of countless innocent people, some of whom were undoubtedly already going through immense suffering without war compounding itself onto their already existing pain. She - rightfully - points as, as a negative towards herself, that she has forced thousands of people to sacrifice their lives, livelihoods, friends, family, homes, etc. in order to continue with her war. Edelgard's canonical self-justification - that she had no other choice to do this - is properly utilized, and further characterization is given to her when she herself recognizes that performing such horrendous actions on the people under her care makes her a poor ruler and terrible person. This is, in truth, a decent set-up for her to go onto a possible path of redemption or self-realization.

However, that progress is forcibly stopped and reverted by Hanneman justifying her actions and recontextualizing them in a morally good light. In fact, the entire story does this, as characters act wildly out of character in order for Edelgard to be seen as good in comparison to them. Focusing on the quoted lines, however, Hanneman relating him giving up nobility and going into momentary poverty - whether true to canon or not - to Edelgard's war actively paints her actions as something that she had a right to be making, which she does not, as they force others to make sacrifices for her cause. When she herself rightfully points this discrepancy out, Hanneman excuses her actions by pointing to another - supposed - source of turmoil and essentially saying "You are more right than x, therefore your y actions are not only better, but objectively good, and make you a good person." He says nothing of the inherent injustice of taking away the choice of the people to live as they want and fight for who they want as well as deliberately taking away any semblance of safety from them, and makes objective statements about Edelgard's moral righteousness despite her taking actions that would, by definition, make her moral righteousness a subjective matter at minimum.

Hanneman is projecting the image of his sister and his own personal sense of justice onto Edelgard, and thus sees her as just as much a victim of the war and society as everyone else. Edelgard is a young woman who has gone through trauma due to Crests, as was his sister, and he himself (in this story, though not within the quoted lines) wanted to beat the man who abused his sister to death, and so he sees Edelgard using violence as a means to achieve justice as not only not questionable, but morally good and brave, as he felt he was not brave enough to enact "justice" onto the man that caused his sister's death. Instead of this being settled, focused on, or even mentioned, despite its obvious nature due to deliberate connections Hanneman himself makes, it is used as a means to showcase that Hanneman is a, for lack of a better term, "expert" on what he is saying when speaking to Edelgard. He knows what it's like to want to force change, he has by-proxy experienced the apparent injustice of the Church - not human society, not his family's decision to allow his sister to be married off, not the man who caused her death's decision to discard her, but strictly the Church and only the Church - and so he can "rightfully" justify and excuse Edelgard's morally questionable actions and paint them in a solely positive light, with no nuance or gray whatsoever.

Edelgard, in the first quote, attempts to say her actions without a tone of self-pity, and yet the narrative itself pities Edelgard. She should be allowed to feel bad about her actions - not because they are causing unfathomable suffering on people who were underserving, but because they’re just hard decisions that she was good and brave to make and maybe she can feel a little bad for herself for making them. She shouldn't feel responsible for choosing to start the war - in fact, did she really have a choice, or did everyone else in society force her to? She shouldn't question whether she's a good person or not, because she simply is - no debate, no question. She is - “justly” - standing up against "moral rot"; that she does so with even more moral rot is irrelevant, because, according to the story, it is not as rotten as that she's up against, therefore it is no longer rotten in the first place. War has been completely justified, as it is now not the last resort of desperation that could only ever be morally grey at its absolute best, but an objectively morally white decision of an objectively morally white person who is facing an objectively morally black opponent.

The actions of other characters attempt to paint Edelgard as someone closer to the former, but I will - maybe - eventually go over how those characters are extremely mischaracterized in order to prop Edelgard as their moral superior. 

#anti edelgard #Anti-edelgard #Edelgard critical #o captain my captain #<- borrowing nilsh's tag for this lmao in case I do end up continuing this #but yeah from just the latest chapter there are characters that 100% cheerlead for the pure righteousness that is Edelgard #so yeah that's... gonna be fun lmao

[ethanesimp]

LET ME GO // V. D. A.

Pairing: Servant! Victoria De Angelis x Royal GN! Reader

Summary: You're cornered into making a decision that won't only break your heart but Vic's too.

Request: Maybe something that makes me cry

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death threats and death, arranged marriage, swearing

Word Count: 3.1k

Masterlist // Taglist link in bio

Taglist: @superchrystaldrug @reputationdamiano @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you @bidet-and-legolas​

A/N: I hope this is sad enough nonnie and that you like it :) It's my first time writing for Vic so I hope y'all enjoy reading as much as I did writing it! And yess, we’re still continuing this angst fest :)

Love was a double-edged sword.

That was one of the first things you learned in your life. You’d see people in pain, crying and destroying themselves for it. It took you a long time to understand why one would do so much for a person, what was so special about them to sacrifice so much?

It took Victoria for you to fully understand. She was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful, energetic, and sweetest people you’d ever met. Those gorgeous blue eyes and endearing laugh made you fall head over heels for the girl you often saw around the castle ever since you were little. 

Ever since you shared your first kiss with her at the back of the stables while your friend Thomas looked out for guards, you knew your relationship was going to live on borrowed time but had always refused to dwell on the thought too much.

You were aware the circumstances you lived in were like a ticking time bomb stuck to your back. It was far too obvious and you’d be too naïve to think otherwise considering you were a member of royalty and the kingdom would eventually be your burden to carry. However, what you weren’t aware of was how easily things would fall apart or when, or how quickly. 

You’d already spent three years of pure bliss next to Victoria, sneaking around the castle and stealing moments and memories only the two of you knew about. You couldn’t deny that you’d always longed for more, to be able to show all your love for her in public and ask her to rule the kingdom by your side, but no amount of dreaming or wondering about what if’s would ever make your situation any different.

Six words were all it took for your bubble of denial to finally burst. Those six little words kept on repeating inside your head over and over again as you held Victoria in your arms. Her pretty eyes were looking into yours and a sad smile adorned her face as you brushed her hair back with your fingers. You could see the tears in her eyes and knew she could see yours, but neither of you dared to comment on it yet.

It was a delicate subject and neither of you wanted to talk first in fear of triggering an argument, even if you were both aware it was coming soon and there was no way to stop it. So you just sat there together in complete silence. The only thing that could be heard was the sporadic sounds of the window creaking because of the wind and the soft crack of wood burning on the large fireplace. 

You placed a soft peck on her lips and caressed her cheek delicately with your thumb, also removing the tears from her rosy cheeks. You pressed your forehead against hers and tightly closed your eyes as you smelled the sweet scent of flowers that hung in the air because of the small flowers woven into her light hair. 

Her arms were tightly wrapped around your body as if she was afraid that you’d suddenly vanish in the form of smoke and would slip from her fingers. You held her closer as a form of reassurance and sighed when you felt her once quiet sobs turn so violent they’d shake her whole body. 

“I’m sorry,” You mumbled and rubbed circles on her exposed back. You wanted nothing more than to take away all the pain she felt and let her know things would be alright, but you didn’t want to lie to her either, “I’m so sorry you had to see all that amore.”

She shook her head and buried her face against your chest as she cried harder. Victoria had always been so strong, so unbreakable, yet those six little words had just broken her and her heart into a thousand pieces. 

You’re getting married tomorrow. No questions. 

You’d been set to marry the heir of a nearby kingdom ever since you were a little kid, promised away to the other royal in exchange for resources to save a dying kingdom and they’d told you all about it in front of your friends… and your girlfriend. 

Your father had made you meet them right in front of her. The young royal, ignorant to your situation, had even gone as far as to kiss both your cheeks and quickly peck your lips. You had all been so taken aback by it, but no one commented on it because it would look suspicious. 

Even though all you wanted to do was take Victoria and run as far away as your legs would take you, the conversation you’d had with your father just minutes before the announcement stopped you from even trying. 

He looked exasperated, angry. You’d tried to browse your mind for anything you’d done wrong as of late but couldn’t come up with anything. There was no reason for him to be as mad as he seemed. 

“I seem so stupid to you, don’t I? You ungrateful child,” He’d spoken, tone sharp and voice laced with venom. You had flinched at how harsh his words sounded, still clueless as to what he was talking about, “I could put up with you not giving a shit about the Kingdom that will soon be yours because you’d have to stop that childish behavior of yours. But sneaking around with a maid’s daughter? That’s just ludicrous!”

Your heart fell to your stomach right then and there. He knew.

“I have tried so much, given you every single thing you wanted to hopefully get you to listen, but I’m tired of playing nice. You’re getting married tomorrow. No questions. And don’t you dare try and run away unless you want all her friends and family killed the second you step foot out of this castle.”

 She thankfully hadn’t heard your father’s words and you weren’t planning on telling her a thing. You knew for sure that if she’d heard, you would’ve already lost her. She had always been one to stand up against things that were wrong, and that time wouldn’t have been an exception. Unfortunately, your father was anything but lenient and you had no doubt that if she even thought of raising her voice at him things would end in chaos. 

“This is so unfair,” She murmured against your chest as more sobs escaped her lips. You stroked her head gently and nodded, “I know it is, I know.”

Then, she raised her head and looked at you with excited eyes as she wiped her tears away. She had an idea and you had a feeling you wouldn’t like it, “Let’s run away, Y/N. Right now. I have an aunt who lives far away in a kingdom where they will never find us! And we can be happy.”

Your gaze softened at her words. There was nothing you wanted more than to run away with Victoria, far from your parents and the responsibilities you’d been born into. You would’ve tried it too had your father not threatened to kill her family and friends if you did so. But you weren’t going to say a thing. 

“Victoria… We can’t- I can’t,” Her smile fell the moment she heard your words. She pulled away and left your embrace, making you instantly miss the warmth of her body pressed against yours.

Victoria sat down next to you, her eyes focused on yours as if she were trying to read your mind, “What do you mean you can’t? This hasn’t been the first time we’ve talked about it and you’ve always agreed to do it if we ever needed it, which we do now. What’s changed?” 

You had to look away after hearing just how hurt she sounded. You didn’t want to see her cry again because you knew you’d end up telling her every single thing your father told you. Anything would’ve been better than having to tell her, so you decided to say something that would not only break her heart but yours too, “I just can’t, okay? Vic, we were being childish! I cannot just flee the kingdom and expect no consequences. That was a stupid idea that would never work. I need to serve my duty, not run off with some servant’s daughter and forget all about my responsibilities here!”

She moved even further away from you. Victoria didn’t even try to hide the hurt caused by your words, “Oh, okay. I get it now,” She nodded and laughed bitterly as she turned around and gathered all the clothes that had previously been scattered all over the room, ”All this time I’ve been nothing but a fool...

“You know, when this all started between us, my friends kept telling me you were just using me for your amusement,” Victoria spoke. Her tone almost made you flinch because it just had as much venom laced in it as your father’s had earlier that day, “I never believed it, you know? I thought you loved me! But no, you’re just as hungry for power as all those fucking bastards, and I was nothing more than just your little game.” 

Her words felt like agonizingly painful stabs to the heart. You didn’t give a shit about power, about the kingdom, about anything but her. However, you weren’t selfish enough to be driven by your desire to be with her, a desire that was almost a need at that point. At least not after knowing everything that was on the line. Her family… her friends, friends who had become your own too. 

Oh how much you wanted to cave in. You wanted to reach out to her and wrap your arms around her frame while you told her just how sorry you were, how much you didn’t mean those words. But you stayed quiet instead and listened to her insults, took them in, and tried your hardest not to flinch or shed a tear, as much as it hurt to do so.

You didn’t stop her either when she ran out the door, tired from crying and screaming at you. Instead, you waited until she harshly shut the door behind her to finally cry. You cried and cried for what seemed like an eternity, got up from the bed, and tore the room to pieces out of pure frustration and hatred to both the universe and your parents for doing this to you. 

It felt like everything was moving in slow motion as you smashed the mirror to pieces with your shoe and tore off the blue wallpaper from the walls. Then, with weak knees and a heavy heart, you slid down the wall and sat on the floor.  You pressed your forehead to your knees and placed your hands over your face as you cried some more. 

Eventually, you fell asleep, exhausted from all the crying and heartbreak you were feeling, wanting nothing but for it to stop. Not too far away, Victoria was being held in the arms of her best friend, who held her while she cried and fell apart in his embrace. No one who was with the two knew what to say. Contrary to what Victoria had said in an attempt to hurt you, all her friends believed you were head over heels for her. Everyone knew you’d do every single thing she asked, but they had all been proven wrong. 

─────────༺♡༺─────────

There was an instant the next morning when you woke up, everything still foggy, where you forgot everything that had gone down the day before. You should’ve held onto those seconds tighter, but your brain didn’t let you as it brought back all the memories from the previous night like violent waves breaking into the shore, so painfully you had to hold your head with your hands.

When a servant walked in, he didn’t question the broken glass scattered all over the wooden floor, neither did he comment on the bare walls and the fact that you looked terrible. He didn’t because he was one of Victoria’s closest friends, Damiano. He silently pieced the story together in his mind and felt his heart break for his two dear friends.

He’d once described you two as a melody. A beautiful one that seemed to flow smoothly and left everyone around them speechless because the force in it was something that no one ever expected from such a quiet-sounding and delicate piece. You loved each other with everything you had, kissed each other like that time would be the last, and now, when you needed all that power and force, you weren’t using it. It made him sad and he couldn’t help but compare you two to an instrument that had gotten out of tune during an important solo. 

Minutes before entering the room, he’d been ready to lash out at you for breaking his sister’s heart, but the mere sight of you made him reconsider. Especially when you looked at him with red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. You looked into his eyes with so much panic and desperation as you spoke up, voice hoarse and barely inaudible, “I’m so sorry.”

He crouched down to your level and didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around your body and hold you like he’d held Victoria the night before. Damiano, for the first time in a while, was out of words to say. He wanted to understand what had happened because Victoria had been so distraught the night before that her words had come out in, mostly, incoherent mumbles that not even Thomas or Ethan could catch. 

“What happened Y/N?” He asked in the sweetest, most delicate voice he could muster. It caught him off-guard how you started crying even harder at his question and gripped the collar of his shirt so tightly he was afraid of getting choked by a heartbroken you.

After a few sniffles, you spoke up. Thankfully, your words were much clearer than Victoria’s had been, “I fucked up, Damiano. That’s what happened,” You hiccuped, “I’m nothing but a coward. When my father threatened to kill her family I just stood there looking so fucking stupid. I just nodded along to everything he was saying.”

Damiano’s brown eyes opened wide as he processed your words, “He did what?” You brought a hand to your face and pulled at your hair in frustration at the realization that you had let those words slip. No one was supposed to know, especially not the person who was so close to her that he was basically her brother.

But the secret you’d tried so hard to hide was now out and it felt like a breath of fresh air after being close to suffocating, so you told him everything. All the words spilled out of your mouth and you didn’t even try to stop them. In fact, the exact opposite thing happened and you told him everything with as much detail as possible to the point where a little movie seemed to be playing inside your head.

He didn’t say a word until you finished talking. By that point, you had already calmed down enough to only sniff every once in a while, which was nothing compared to how distraught and shaken up you’d been minutes earlier. That’s when it dawned on him that the only thing you needed was to talk, it also explained why Victoria had been so heartbroken. She didn’t know about it…

It was like you were able to hear his thoughts, because the moment he opened his mouth to speak, you interrupted him, “No. I cannot tell Vic and neither can you. I know you love her just as much as I do and you know how she’d take this… Look, I can live happily if I know she’s out there, safe. How would I ever live with myself if she was gone and it was all my fault?”

His heart broke at your words, but he truly had no clue what he could ever say to make you feel any better, so the only thing he did was hold you closer and let you cry some more.

-

He eventually had to leave before another servant walked in to help you get ready for ‘the big day’. The other servant didn’t question the looks of your room either and stayed quiet as they helped you into the outfit that had been selected for you to wear to the wedding. You almost wanted to chuckle, you had no choice on who’d be there at the altar by your side and it seemed like you had no choice in what you’d be wearing either.

To anyone who’d seen you walk down the halls of the castle would’ve easily mistaken your frown for nothing more than being nervous at the thought of getting married. Hell, Damiano had even told you that a rumor had spread around the castle quickly after everyone found out about you being engaged. 

It was, apparently, no secret to any of the servants that you were seeing someone. Anyone who didn’t know any better had thought it had been the other royal you were set to marry. That you’d spend blissful hours sneaking around the castle, eager to finally unite and live together forever. They weren’t exactly wrong. You did wish for that with everything you had, but not for the person who was already anxiously waiting at the altar for you to walk in.

No. You wanted all that with the blond-haired girl that sat at the very back, with her hair neatly braided back and a few flowers adding a pop of color to her head. You almost wanted to chuckle when you saw she wasn’t wearing a dress. Ever since you were little kids and she’d started working around the castle, she’d begged your father to let her wear a pair of jeans instead of the skirts maids would wear. He hadn’t seen it as a huge deal and ever since he allowed her to do so, you’d never seen her in a skirt, ever, much less a dress. 

As you stood at the altar, you often looked for her in the crowd. Thankfully enough, she’d stayed with her eyes glued to the floor for most of the ceremony and hadn’t caught you staring, not once. Everything that followed seemed to happen so quickly you spaced out over most of it. It hurt, but Damiano’s reassuring smiles and just looking at Victoria gave you enough strength to keep the tears in.

You never thought that’s how your life would go, but you were thankful because at least she’d be safe. She’d have the chance to find someone else and fall in love one day. You only hoped that eventually, when many years had passed, Damiano would tell her all of the truth and maybe, just maybe, she’d find it in herself to forgive you for it all. 

#victoria de angelis x reader #victoria de angelis x you #victoria de angelis x y/n #victoria de angelis fanfiction #maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction

[thirsty4theextraordinary]

Come on love, let’s get this freak-show on the road

I’ve been replaying Fallout 4 for like the 100th time recently and again I have fallen in love with Hancock all over again. So this is a little one-shot I wrote up last night that goes through how Hancock is feeling about the SS. 

Hopefully you guys like it. 

Pairing: John Hancock X Female Sole Survivor 

Tags: Fluff, nothing else just some sweetness. 

“To think I ever doubted you.” 

That was how he had started this, how he had got to where they were now. Of course, she seemed unfazed like nothing had changed. It had been days since their conversation on the side of the road. They had made camp at a local settlement of hers, or rather the Minutemen’s. She chatted idly to the settlers as they sat beside the campfire, unaware of his eyes on her. She had achieved such an amazing amount since coming off of ice. 

When they had first met, she had come strolling into Goodneighbour with Nick Valentine at her side. She was beautiful, and fresher-looking than any woman he had seen before. Like a poster of one of those pre-war movie stars. Of course, he was attracted, you would have to be blind not to be but he kept it to himself. And that vault suit hugged her curves aa though it were painted on.  

Once they started travelling together that’s when things had changed. Into something that he had never experienced before. She was kind, intelligent, cunning and not afraid to hurt those who needed hurting. He had had pre-existing ideas of what the Vault-dweller would be like in a fight and it was nothing like this. She had the reflexes of a trained killer, and as much as he had thought he would be the one protecting her, it was sometimes the other way around. He couldn’t count the number of times she had stimpak’d him mid-battle, just to turn and shoot his assailant in the face, as though it was nothing at all. 

The more they travelled together the more he fell for her. It wasn’t like him, John had always been a lone wolf, content with the occasional one nightstand. He had no problems finding lovers, even turning Ghoul hadn’t dampened his chances. The sexy King of the Zombies had no issues with the ladies. So why was he so hung up on the woman in a bright blue vault suit? 

It was one night, when they had stopped to make camp and he looked over at her sleeping form, that he fully understood, that what he felt wasn’t just simply lust, like usual. At first, it disturbed him, he wasn’t used to feeling like this, this intense feeling was scary. The womaniser in him denied these feeling of course and he told himself that the last thing she need was the love of a Ghoul. While he had never had trouble finding lovers, he knew that not all soft-skins were so inclined to his kind. He wasn’t sure he could take the rejection from her. He huffed to himself, she had turned him into a teenager again, nervous about asking out his first girl.  John Hancock was a confident flirt, never had he questioned himself before, but then never had he felt like this. She really was something else.  And yet he had never expected her to say what she did. 

He hadn’t expected the conversation to lead that way, he hadn’t even led it that way himself. He just simply wanted to let her know what a great friend she was, how impressed he was with her moral compass, deep down he wanted to be a little more like her. He felt it was only right that he shared, after all, she had been upfront since day one about her past, and what she was trying to do out here in the Commonwealth. But up until this point, he hadn’t really told her much about himself, only how he had become mayor and why he had wanted to leave. He had just wanted to share, to open up a bit. He hadn’t expected her to turn it on him like that. He had been telling her about what had happened at Diamond City. 

“I felt like I was the only one who saw how screwed up things truly were, who couldn’t just pretend things were fine. Still feel that way… or I did. Until I met you” He mentally scolded himself for that last part would she notice, question him. But she just kept listening politely, she hadn’t taken it for any more than just a declaration of admiration. No feelings attached. So with a smile, he continued. 

“I know I run my mouth, but having someone who sees the world for what it is and is willing to do something about it. It’s meant a lot to me. I feel damn lucky to have you as a friend.” 

“And that’s what we are? Friends?” the words had fallen from her mouth like they meant nothing, like she hadn’t just propositioned him. He couldn’t help the flutter that he felt in his stomach or that grin that spread across his face, he felt suddenly exposed, was she playing with him. But like aways, John use crude flirting and overconfidence to hide his nervousness. 

“Well, now that you mention it, I have been having slightly more impure thoughts than usual. Maybe we’ll get to…. act on those. Heh,” He had said to her. It wasn’t that he regretted saying it, after all, it was the truth. Watching her ass bounce in the vault suit, as she ran and few yards ahead of him as they travelled had undoubtedly been the inspiration for a few impure dreams. But did he want her to think that was all he had to offer? A few nights of passion on the road, just friends until they got into the bedroom. He wasn’t really sure what it was she wanted, maybe that was all she expected, after all, he did have a reputation. He told himself that with any other girl, especially one that looked like her, he would be happy. But as the days went past and he saw her save people who needed saving and take out those that threaten them, he knew he would never just been content with a sex only kinda deal. But it’s not like that had happened either since their talk nothing had happened. But it had been a tough few days, maybe she was simply worn out, he couldn’t blame. Or maybe it was all just meaningless flirting.  

“I’m off to bed, thanks for the drink Ben” she suddenly announced standing from her seat beside him, the settler nodded his head to her. She turned to John and bent down.

“Goodnight, Hancock,” she said sweetly before she placed a tender kiss to his cheek. He couldn’t help but turn his head and capture her lips. Just because she made him feel something new, didn’t mean he had forgotten all his moves. She squeaked with surprise at first but kissed him back nonetheless. He pulled away, shooting her his infamous grin. 

“You can call me John you know,” he told her and she smiled at him blushing pink. 

“Goodnight, John” she replied trying his name out and he smiled like a fool. No one called him that much anymore, but it sounded so sweet coming from her.

“Goodnight, Sunshine” he replied. His whole life he had been running but at that moment he knew, he could never run away from her.  

She stood fully and without another word headed off towards the small wooden shack that Ben had offered them for the night.  With his mind whirling he took off after her. He closed the door behind him and she looked up from where she was sat on one of the mattresses on the floor. She was going threw her pack, checking out ammo supplies and the like. 

“Hey, when you got time, I got something I still need you to hear,” he said as he perched himself in the rickety chair in the corner and pull the slightly smashed packet of cigarettes from his pocket. 

“Is everything alright?” she asked suddenly looking a little concerned. God, why did she have to look at him with those big beautiful eyes of hers? He took a breath.

“Oh yeah. Better than that. This is just… tricky” he began. Pushing the cigarette between his lips and lighting it. He offered her one silently and she took both the pack and lighter from him without a word, lighting the cigarette and taking a drag. 

He found himself opening up to her again, telling her things only he really knew. Things he hadn’t really told anyone.  How he felt inside, not about her but about himself. He needed to know she understood, that she saw him for who he really was. All his self-loathing out in the open, the real John Hancock on full display.  How he was just running away, with no real destination in mind. She hadn’t just listened to him spill his guts she had consoled him. 

“You may have run, but you always ran for a reason,” she told him with a nod of her head. Hearing her say something like that from her, was like a warm shower, washing away his insecurities, his worries. 

“Been trying to convince myself of that for a long time, but hearing that coming from someone like you…. I don’t know if you understand what that means to me,” he said with a smile which she returned. Again he took a breath.

“So, lemme get to the point. Throwing in with you has been the best decision I’ve ever made. It’s like I found a part of myself I never realised was missing…. Which happened sometimes when you’re a Ghoul” there he was joking again, protecting himself. 

“If I hadn’t taken up with you, I’d probably be in a gutter somewhere, getting gnawed on by Radroaches. You have been one hell of a friend” He had used that word strategically, he hadn’t forgotten the stolen kiss they had just had but he needed to test the waters. 

“Have you ever thought about us as maybe more than just friends?” she said her face serious. Was she testing him too? 

“Heh. It that obvious? But come on. You don’t want to wake up to this mug every morning. Never wish that on anyone I cared for.” it was honest, there were no sexual undertones, no joking. He was checking, he knew he could charm the pants off most girls in the Commonwealth but this was more than that, he wanted to check he hadn’t made a mistake. 

“Who I fall for is my decision. And I’ve fallen for you” she admitted with a smile and he swallowed hard. 

“Wouldn’t expect that kind of lapse in judgement from you. But I guess that works out for me then, doesn’t it?” he joked, mentally he scolded himself he should have told her how he felt. What she meant to him. But she giggled at his joke and he couldn’t help but smile. 

“Heh. Moments like this, I know all that karma stuff is bull. Because no one like me should be this lucky.“ he said looking down at the lit cigarette in his hand, the long line of ash waiting to be flicked off. 

Her hand entered his peripheral vision and he looked towards her. She had thrown her cigarette away and she was holding her hand out towards him. He threw his cigarette out the hole in the shack wall and took her hand. She pulled him to sit in front of her. Her beautiful eyes staring into his soul.  

“Look John, I know you joke to protect yourself. But I’m going to be honest now” she said and he blinked his heart beating out of his chest, she was going to tell him that he meant nothing to her. 

“When I said I fallen for you” she began, he knew what was coming”

“I really meant it” she breathed holding his hand a little tighter. He let out a breath he hadn’t know he was holding. She meant it?

“I love you, more than I’ve ever loved anyone before,” she said and he smiled so brightly it hurt his cheeks.

“I love you too, Sunshine,” he said and she smiled.

“But I want to check what that means to you. What I mean is, I don’t one-night stands or friends with benefits. I’m either in all the way or not at all.  So what do you say?” she said her voice far less confident than he was used to hearing from her. Had she been having all the same thoughts as him? God, he was a fool. 

“You don’t know how happy you make me, saying stuff like that. With you, I’ve found the person I was meant to be with. My missing piece. I don’t want to ever be without you. So you wanna make this thing official?” he asked and she smiled so brightly he could feel the warmth of it. 

Without a word, she leant forward and captured his lips in a kiss he wouldn’t ever forget. It was passion-filled but loving, with a swift movement he pushed her back so she was lying, her back on the mattress and he hovered above her. He looked down at her grinning like a teenager, who had just seen his first boob. She giggled before she leant up and captured his lips in another loving kiss. 

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