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#Susan's second chance
gentle-giant-swag · 10 months
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GGS: CITRON BRACKET SECOND CHANCE BATTLE 1
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Hugo’s propaganda masterpost
Wrecker’s propaganda masterpost
Sisyphus’ propaganda masterpost
Susan’s propaganda masterpost
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xycbvkrg00 · 2 months
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(xycbvkrg00.tumblr.com) Who could blame you as you are powerless to resist all these sinful temptations... PROCEED...
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danielleurbansblog · 10 months
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Review: Welcome to Beach Town
Synopsis: Beloved  New York Times  bestselling author Susan Wiggs returns with a compulsively readable tale of an idyllic California beach town forced to reckon with scandal when a high school valedictorian’s speech reveals secrets that shake the town to its core. “Readers will savor sunny skies and perfect surf in this stunning new novel, but one thing is for In this Beach Town, there is…
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dargeereads · 2 years
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Claiming Grace by Susan Stoker available in audio on Scribd
 4 stars
audiobook
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This story really touched me, there was just something about Grace that made me ache for her. Even as the story unfolded and she gained her confidence, every time something hurt her, I wanted to make it all better. Logan was, is, the best man, partner, for her, as he felt much the same as I did, and was able to help her transition from victim to survivor. These two had been through so much, their HEA attempted to be thwarted, but they could not be stopped. Loved it for them, loved their story <3
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nunalastor · 1 month
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Charlie getting concerned over Lucifer's insistence on proving himself as Alastor's partner to Susan:
-
Charlie: Please dad, c'mon. This isn't worth it!
Lucifer: Charlie. She called me a gigolo. A gigolo! I don't even know what that means but I know I can't let it stand!
Charlie: Who cares!? Susan's mean to everyone! Even if you did somehow get her to like you she'd still be a mean old bitch to you!
Rosie: She absolutely would.
Lucifer: I just need to get through to her that I'm not just playing around with Alastor's (probably shriveled) heart! Cox isn't even that great, he's clearly just as bad as Susan thinks I am! Maybe, no, definitely worse!
Charlie: Wh- You don't even like Alastor!
Lucifer: Not the point.
Rosie: [Chuckles while Charlie groans.]
[Suddenly the doors burst open and Alastor storms in, murder in his eyes.]
Rosie: Enjoy your date, hon?
Alastor: Rosie dear, if you must revel in my suffering, I'd honestly rather you use pliers to remove my fingernails one by one.
[The door bursts open again and Vox and Susan stroll in, smiling and chatting.]
Vox: Oh Alastor, you left the very expensive gift I got you in the car!
Alastor: (through gritted teeth) That's very generous of you, but I-
Susan: [Growls and raises her umbrella threateningly.]
Alastor: ...Thank you.
Susan: (sweetly) Aw, what a nice young man. I don't understand why you two didn't work out.
Susan: (angrily, to Lucifer) Unlike this fuckin' cheapskate over here.
Lucifer: I built him a whole new radio tower!
Susan: Pssht. That fuckin' eyesore? I wouldn't let a pig live in that sty.
Alastor: [Actually likes the new radio tower but refuses to say so.]
Alastor: Well as lovely as it has been to spend time with the both of you, I believe it's time you were on your way. Vox does have quite the hectic schedule to return to, no?
Vox: Alas, being the CEO of a multi-million dollar corporation does eat up one's free time. If only I could spend all day locked up in my mansion playing with toys-
Lucifer: [Eye twitch.]
Vox: -or better yet, doting on you as you deserve. But you're right. I really should be getting back to my important work. It's been just wonderful to see you again, Alastor.
[Under Susan's glare, Alastor holds his hand out for a handshake. Vox takes Alastor's hand, bows, and raises Alastor's hand to his mouth for a kiss. Alastor goes rigid and flashes the radio dial eyes but before he can retaliate, Vox pulls him close and wraps his free hand around Alastor's waist.]
Vox: Until next time, Alastor~
[Vox leaves, shooting a stunned Lucifer and an infuriated Alastor a smug look. Susan is oblivious.]
Susan: Such a romantic. I might just snap him up myself at this rate!
Alastor: By all means, don't let me stand in your way.
Susan: [Swats him with the umbrella.]
Susan: Don't give me that cheek, boy. You're lucky Vox is willing to give you a second chance after you broke his heart! I hope next time I see you, you've pulled that fuck-ass bob outta yer ass and dumped the gigolo.
Susan: [Leaves.]
Alastor: ...Well, if you'll excuse me, I need to go run my hand under boiling water for an hour.
Alastor: [Leaves.]
Charlie: ...Dad?
Lucifer: Yeah?
Charlie: (eyes red, horns out) Destroy that motherfucker.
Lucifer: Oh, with pleasure.
Rosie: (sipping her tea) Oooh, things are about to get really interesting...
👀
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libraryofloveletters · 3 months
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chapter eight: lucky doesn't cover it
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Sebastian Vettel x Fem!Reader
Warnings: honeymoon stage, seb is so cheesy and soooo touchy, it's like two teenagers in love really, nsfw themes but nothing graphic, suggestions to sex and nsfw content, liv and millie are so sus of you two, the lies are catching up to you two, secrets are told, family sweetness. - this is low-key a filler chapter, I have drama next chapter *smiles evilly*
Word Count: 3.1k
Author’s Note: sorry for the 4 million year wait, y'all know I love me some seb so hopefully this makes up for the lack of seb lately. don't blame me, tell that man to come out of hiding again!
sugar and spice; all things nice masterlist
---
It has been a few weeks since your first date with Sebastian and things were going well, beyond well actually. You couldn't have asked for a better version of things to unfold.
The two of you had begun dating but decided to keep things quiet, especially from Olivia and Amelia. Neither of you wanted to complicate things for the girls, wanting to keep things as they were in case it didn't work between you two, god forbid.
Liv and Milly were currently in the pool at your place, you had brought lunch out onto the back deck and Sebastian was keeping an eye on them while they were in the pool. The door creaks, Seb glances over his shoulder to see you coming out with a pitcher of juice, setting it down on the table with the food you had brought out moments before.
You leant over slightly, pouring some juice into the cups for the girls when your knee brushes against Seb's thigh. His black shorts left his legs on display and typically, you'd regard his legs as just.. legs but something about Sebastian was different now, you weren't sure if it was because now he was your man or if you had been so pent up and now that you'd getting a chance to release it, it's hitting you at once.
Seb's forearm lays on the arm rest, fingers creeping up the back of your thigh to the hem of your shorts. Almost leaning into his touch, Olivia's voice pulls you from the thoughts in your head.
"Is lunch ready, mama?!" She shouts from the pool.
Clearing your throat, you nod. "Yeah!" You reach behind to swat Seb's wandering hand away, throwing him a glare as you pick up the towels and walk over to help the girls out of the pool.
The man watches as you wrap the towels around the girls, sending them off in the direction of the table to eat and he can't help but smile; how did he ever get so lucky ?
Olivia and Amelia sit across from Seb, the two of them joint at the hip like baby penguins waddling about. The only chair left was the one next to Seb, it had become your usual spot anyways.
The 4 of you chatted, the girls updated you both on class trips, projects and the drama between Susan B and Susan H. Seb was more intrigued than you as you had heard the rundown when you picked them up from school on Friday.
A warm hand rests on your thigh under the table, startling you momentarily. You look over to see if he was trying to get your attention, but he wasn't. "Does Susan B know that Susan H held Josh's hand on the playground?" He asked the girls, clearly caught up in the drama of second grade.
Amelia corrects him. "It was Susan H that held Josh's hand, dad. Susan B was boyfriend girlfriend with Josh first."
"And Susan B saw all of it happen while she was on the swings too," Olivia adds, making sure to emphasize on her words for dramatic effect.
You smile, shaking your head at the second grade drama as your hand rests atop Seb's, fingers interlocking over his. The man squeezes your thigh softly as his thumb rubs gently over your skin.
Lucky doesn't begin to cover it.
--
"Milly!" Olivia shouts, pulling on your hand as you locked the car. You see the blonde girl and her dad, both of their curls unruly and sparkling under the morning sunshine.
Amelia smiles, shouting back. "Liv!"
Sebastian lets his little girl when he sees you with Olivia, knowing you'd stop them from running into the busy parking lot. The two girls wrapped each other in a hug, Milly says good morning to you and you smile, saying it back. You followed closely behind them as you attempted to put Milly's hair into a ponytail while they walked, knowing they had gym class and having her hair in her face would bother her.
"Good morning, Mr. Seb!" Liv smiles at the man, Seb pinches her cheek softly. "Morning sweet pea," he says back with a smile.
The girls were whispering about something, perhaps the fact that Josh was giggling with Susan H today instead of Susan B. Seb nudges your shoulder, leaning into you slightly. "Morning you."
"Good morning Sebastian," you glance at him, knowing better than to start him up before he doesn't stop.
His hand rests on his chest, feigning hurt. "Sebastian? You wound me, woman."
"I try my best," you smiled, turning your head to look at him. Sebastian leans into you, his lips by your ear. “You look nice. I like your top,” he gestures to his chest, his fingers brushing over his sternum - just as he did months ago when you helped him with Milly's bedroom.
The action causes you to look down, your top had slipped a little bit when you grabbed Olivia's bag out of the car.
You roll your eyes, swatting his arm playfully before readjusting your shirt. "Behave, there are children here."
"There are children at home too, but we've done dirty things there too-" "Dad!" Milly shouts, getting her dad's attention. "Did you put my water bottle in my bag?"
"It's in your lunch bag, kiddo." He tells her, fixing the strap on her bag. "Now you two are gonna be late if you don't get your butts down to line up."
The girls hug each of you, switching to hug the other and then run off to line up for entry. You and Seb waved to them from the sidewalk before you head back to the parking lot, his hand resting on your lower back as you walk. HIs hand slipped lower and lower by the second until you stepped away.
Your back is against the pickup, looking at your boyfriend - that's such a funny term. You didn't think at your age, with a 7 year old kid that you'd have a boyfriend again. It seems unreal to you, both in a good way and a bad way.
"Do you have work today?" He asks, noticing you've taken the truck and not your car.
"Yeah, gotta drop by the construction site today."
"What time are you off?"
"Noon-ish probably, I hope. You know how it goes with them," you shrugged. Seb nods, "the girls are staying at school for lunch today, sooo... why don't you come by after you're done work?"
"Are you gonna cook me lunch then, Sebastian?" You asked, raising an eyebrow. He wasn't a big cook but there were a few recipes that he had perfected and liked to make.
He shrugs, making a face. A hand resting behind your head, caging you in between him and the truck. "Figured we could order from your favourite Italian place."
"As nice as that sounds, you know how slow they are. It'll take them forever to deliver."
Sebastian's got a wicked grin on his face, something dirty on the tip of his tongue just waiting to be said. He leans in, lips by your ear. "There's a way we can pass the time."
If you hadn't gotten what he was suggesting before, his lips on your neck gave it away. "Sebastian!" You giggled, pushing him away. "Stop it before we get in trouble."
"We don't go to school here, it's fine."
"We have kids that go here though, and I have work. I need to go before you make me late."
"You're no fun," he tells you, pouting like a child as you get into the truck, your door still open as you look at him. "Stop pouting, you doofus. Come gimme a kiss so I can go," your hand stretched out for him.
Seb smiles, reaching up to give you a kiss before you let him go. "Have a good day, I'll see you after."
"Drive safe," you tell him, shutting the door. You wind down the window. "Not like a formula one driver!"
"I'll try my best!" He shouts, "no promises!"
You rolled your eyes, smiling as you pulled out of the parking lot.
--
Clothes scattered on the floor, your heels kicked off on the steps on the way up to Seb's bedroom and your purse long forgotten by the front door.
"C'mere," Seb grabs your arm, pulling your back flush against his chest. His warmth kept you snuggled into him, not wanting to move anytime soon.
"We really do need to get up."
"What for?" He asks, peppering kisses along your shoulder. You roll your eyes, "you ordered food and frankly, I'm starving."
"Yeah?" He says, you can sense the shit eating grin on his face. "Wonder why you're so hungry."
"Oh hush," you reach back, smacking his cheek softly. "I had work, don't think so highly of yourself."
Seb laughs, untangling himself from you when the doorbell rings. "As if you summoned them, honey." He pulls his shorts on, grabbing his wallet off of the nightstand.
You roll over, grabbing his hand. "I have to go," he tells you and you pout, making a face. Seb smiles, leaning down to kiss your head. "I'll be back in two seconds, and I'll have your chicken parm so you'll love me even more."
"Yeah," you chuckled, leaning back. "Fine."
Seb laughs, leaving you in bed to go get the delivery from the guy. You decided that pasta was too messy to eat in bed so you got dressed, meaning you borrowed Seb's shirt and made your way downstairs.
"Sleeping beauty emerges," he jokes and earns another eye roll from you. The two of you find your way to the kitchen, as you do most times, grabbing what you need before making your way to the table.
It was a very domestic scene; sitting at the table, eating as you discussed what the girls had in school that week. As if you had been married for years.
"I have to get dressed," you announce, getting up as Seb took the empty plates to the kitchen. "What for?" He glanced at you, rinsing the plates out to put them into the dishwasher.
"We have to pick up the girls."
"I'll pick them up, you rest."
"You're sure?" You asked and Seb nodded, "100%, you stay and relax." He kisses you softly, hands cupping your cheeks.
You smile and nod, following him to the door. "Where are you going?" Seb asks.
"I'm going to get dressed."
The man looks at you clearly confused, he had already told you to stay and relax and that he would pick up the girls.
"They can't come home to see me wandering around here in just your shirt, they don't need to see that."
"I do," he raises his eyebrows, a cheeky grin on his face. "Sebastian behave," you groaned, rolling your eyes playfully at his childishness. He smiles, putting his hoodie on before grabbing his car keys.
"I'll see you when I'm back," he tells you, giving you a kiss before heading out.
The drive to the school was normal, 5 minutes and he's parked, waiting for the two girls to come out. The teacher sees Sebastian, waving to him as he signals that he's taking both Milly and Liv home today. It's nothing unusual that you and Seb take turns picking up the girls, it's just whoever was free or closer. Most times Seb picks them up as you're usually at work.
Milly's holding one of his hands and Liv is holding the other, the 3 of them walking back to his car. "Mr. Seb? Where's mom?" Liv asks him, the man looks at her puzzled for a moment.
"Uh she's at our place."
Milly and Liv exchange a confused glance as they climb into the car. "What's she doing there?" Milly asks her father, clearly curious.
"Well, she was running late on her way back from work so I told her I'd pick you guys up and meet her at home."
The answer seemed to curb their curiosity for the time being, Seb driving home with the girls. Your truck parked on the road as you were always certain you'd crash into Seb's car if you pulled into the driveway.
The girls were held expecting you to get out of the truck but Seb instead led them to the front door, unlocking it to let them in. "Hi girls!" You called, stepping out of the kitchen. You had gotten redressed while they were gone, much to Sebastian's dismay.
"Hi mama," Liv says, glancing at her best friend. "Mr. Seb said you were running late from work."
"I was," you tell her, glancing at Seb. The man shrugs from behind the girls as if to say he needed an excuse.
Milly or Liv seemed to be buying the lame ass excuse you and Seb - mostly Seb- came up with. "How'd you get inside?" Milly asks you, knowing her dad had just unlocked the front door.
This story wasn't adding up.
Seb clears his throat. "Why don't you two go get a snack, you can have candy if you want. There's Kit Kat in the pantry." He tells them, the girls drop their bags by the stairs and go running to the pantry.
You look behind you to make sure the girls are gone before walking over to Seb. "Really? I'm running late but I'm in the house? You couldn't come up with something better?" You whispered to him.
The man shrugged, "they're like mini detectives, all scary and judgey. I had to say something!" he whisper shouts to you, "we need to tell them."
"Already? It's too soon."
"We're together all the time, babe. I can't keep kissing you in secret." He says, a look feigning exhaust from the lack of kisses on his face.
You sigh, nodding. "Fine," your hand cups his cheek, kissing him softly. "Let's go."
"Girls?!" Seb calls for them, "can you come here? Y/n and I want to talk to you!"
The girls come in, chocolate on their faces and fingers. You grab a tissue and wrap their faces and hands as they sit on the couch, you and Seb are across from them on the other couch. "What is it?" Milly asks, looking between you and Seb.
"Well," you start, looking to see if Seb wants to speak but he signals for you to go ahead; typical men. "How would you two feel if.. Mr. Seb and I started.. well, seeing each other?" You asked them, the girls both have a confused look on their faces.
They exchange a glance, "what does that mean?" Milly asks, her brows furrowed; the splitting image of her father.
"It means they kiss!" Liv tells her, her hand over her mouth as she giggles. Milly makes a face. "Ew! Cooties!" She giggled, her and Olivia making faces at each other.
You and Seb exchange a look, trying not to laugh.
"It does mean we kiss," Seb says, "but it means we like each other."
"Like how we like each other?" Liv asks, "like best friends?"
"Sort of," Seb smiles, "it's more like when two grown-ups really like each other in a special way. They care about each other a lot, like how friends care about each other, but with even more love."
"So super duper best friends," Liv says, making you laugh.
"Basically, yeah. How do you guys feel about that?" You asked, not wanting to leave any stone unturned.
"Does this mean we're.. sisters?" Milly asks, "cause you're Liv's mom and you're my dad so you're mom and dad.."
"I guess," you say, looking at Seb for some help. "I mean, yeah. You are sisters."
The girls giggle, "cool!" They happen to say at the same time and get up, coming over to hug you and Seb. You smile, "we've got to head home, sweetheart. You can come by tomorrow if you want."
She makes a sad face but nods, her and Milly walking to the door to gather Liv's stuff when Seb pulls you up from the couch and into a hug. "See? Was that so hard?"
"Shut up," you huffed, the man laughed as you two walked to the front door.
You watch as the girls hug each other bye, Milly comes over to give you a hug and you lean down to hug her back. Seb kisses Liv's head before turning to you, giving you a kiss.
"Ew!" The girls chorus, making the two of you laugh.
You and Olivia head home, the two of you going about your evening. Liv does her homework while you worked on some work plans and emails, you had dinner together and then both of you did your night time routines before you joined her in her bedroom for story time.
"Mom?" Liv calls for you as you shut the book, setting it on her nightstand. "What is it, kiddo?"
"Does this mean Mr. Seb is my dad?" She asks, leaving you stumped.
You sit there for a moment, trying to figure out how you'd answer her question. "Well, no. He's not your actual dad but you can look at him like your dad if you want."
She nods. "Do I keep calling him Mr. Seb?"
"Yeah, I would think so."
Seb was in a similar situation at his place, Milly had begged him to watch her favourite cartoon instead of story time and Seb caved. The two of them on the couch when she turns to her dad. "If Liv and I are sisters, does this mean auntie y/n is my mommy now?"
It takes him a second to register the question. He can't say yes, because Milly did see pictures of her actual mother, but it's also not a no.
"In a way, yes. She's not your mommy but you can look at her like your mommy, she'll always be there for you."
Milly seemed satisfied with her father's answer, nodding as she turned her attention back to the tv.
---
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minamorris1857 · 7 months
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Imagine…
Lucy falls out of the wardrobe and just sobs. She can feel it, that it won’t open back up. Everyone they loved is on the other side of a wall, but there’s no way around it. She hugs her knees to her chest and wishes she was anywhere else. She is grieving.
Susan steps into the Spare Room and immediately feels sick. Her body doesn’t fit right anymore. Her legs are too short and her head is so light because her hair is gone. She gives dry sobs and scratches at her skin. It’s like putting on a shoe that’s too tight or a dress that’s too short; she feels both tied down and exposed but she has no idea how to fix it. She is in pain.
Peter takes one step out before he runs back in. He rams the back of the wardrobe with his shoulder over and over and over again, until hot frustrated tears stream down his cheeks because he cannot be a boy again, he can’t. There’s no strength in his body anymore, but when the wood starts to creak he gives up. He slides down the wall in defeat and reaches to tug on a beard that isn’t there, to rub a scar that’s melted into his skin. He is defeated.
Edmund stumbles onto the floor and just heaves a great sigh. He did not want this, nor did he expect it, but he should have. He does not weep, he does not tear at his skin, he does not force his way back home. He simply stands up, and thanks Aslan for the second chance at life, even if he does not want it. Edmund is not happy to be back in England; his heart is, in fact, cleaved in two. But he knows the power of plans that are not his own. He is hopeful.
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chaoticace2005 · 1 month
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Why Sir Pentious got redeemed:
1. He was killed so his soul got re-evaluated (if so what happens to all other Sinners who die?)
2. He got redeemed a millisecond before Adam killed him, the intent of sacrificing himself being enough to get into heaven
3. He was destined to be redeemed when he put his pride away and confessed to Cherri
4. Being in Heaven or Hell is based on whether or not you believe you’re a good person. At that moment his opinion of himself shifted enough to qualify for Heaven.
5. He racked up enough good points to be redeemed, as did Angel, the only reason he’s there and Angel isn’t is because Valentino owns Angel’s soul.
6. Susan owned Sir Pentious’ soul, keeping him tied to Hell. She died at that very moment though, releasing him.
7. Susan is a bad bitch and can’t die. But she saw how stupid he was about to be and was like “I give up”, releasing him.
8. The universe knew that Adam was going to die and there always has to be one Alex Brightman in Heaven. They couldn’t take Fizzarolli because they don’t want to deal with Asmodeus, so they defied their own rules and took Sir Pentious.
9. He didn’t get redeemed. His design was just re-used and this is a totally different Winner, the story just ended like this to give us hope
10. He didn’t get redeemed, this is Charlie’s hope of what did happen because she can’t accept his death
11. All of Hazbin is a story being told by Frank, and he added his boss going to Heaven because that’s what he believes happened (either a conspiracy theory or that’s what the Hazbin crew told him.)
12. Using a war machine to kill people was the last sin he needed to repent for, the fact he was redeemed before Adam’s blast is just luck.
13. Adam’s blast beamed Sir Pentious up to Heaven
14. Adam’s blast is actually a de-Sinner, usually it kills people but because Sir Pentious didn’t have a lot of Sin-juice he was reborn
15. He chose that moment to convert to a born again Christian. He was born again.
16. He sneezed and an angel blessed him
17. This was another “fuck you” from the universe: he kissed the girl he liked and made a family only for it all to be taken away
18. It’s a Good Place situation where he thinks he’s in Heaven but it’s really not and this is just extra torture.
19. He’s in purgatory and this is what he’s dreaming.
20. It’s a test by the higher ups in Heaven “OH you think heaven is good for Sinners? Wrong!” Then they chose a guy who was starting to find happiness in Hell to prove their point that Sinners can’t find joy in Heaven
21. His death was so anticlimactic the universe felt like it had to give him a second chance.
22. Vox is a heavenly official in disguise (the TV is just a mask.) And told him back in episode 2 to kill himself, Sir Pentious sacrificing himself fulfilled that wish, so the universe redeemed him for fulfilling Vox’s challenge
23. Lilith ex-machina came in last minute like a girl boss and saved his ass. Her powers transcend time.
24. That’s Sir Pentious’ clone, which Pentious had programmed to be released the second he died (there may be tons of Alex Brightmans in the world, but there can only be one Sir Pentious.)
25. Charlie learns how to redeem Sinners in the future. She also learns to time travel, so she grabs Sir Pentious at that last second before he died, helps him get redeemed and then chucks him back into the timeline because screw the consequences.
26. Alex Brightman got amnesia and said “H-huh?! Where-where am I?!” during recording. Everyone though he just ad-libbed a line and tried to make it fit in.
27. The Eggs are secretly gods. They blessed and saved Pentious before Adam could kill them.
28. Emily saw what he was about to do and pulled a lever. It was the right lever.
29. Last minute someone realized the play on words with Pentious’ name (Sir Repentious) and added this scene in
30. Alex Brightman was originally not going to return to the show, so Pentious and Adam died. Later things changed and he could return, but most filming had already been done so they took him aside and filmed that final scene separately and added it in.
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spicycinnabun · 2 months
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pt. 1 2 3 5 6 7 💐
When Steve first started working at the flower shop, he had only been helping customers and taking their orders over the phone. Their small family business had grown quicker than anticipated, and Steve’s parents had needed the extra set of hands.
The shop had been a gift to his mother. It had been something she’d always wanted, but his dad had never agreed to, until finally, he had fucked up badly enough in their relationship and had funded it out of guilt.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise that it turned out to be as successful as it was. Steve’s mom, Linda, was passionate and talented. She loved flowers and celebrations of any kind and maintained a big, beautiful garden at home.
It also helped that his father and mother were socialites. They had a lot of friends to support the business, spread the word, and make it b(l)oom. They had a great location in the mall with little competition around.
For good or bad, weddings, anniversaries, sickness and death, flowers were always there.
Steve had mostly helped after school, but it became his full-time gig once he’d graduated and hadn’t gotten into college. Due to the sheer volume of orders, his mother could no longer make the arrangements alone, so she’d taught Steve everything she knew.
From watching her over the years, Steve knew how to care for the flowers. He could prep them and nurture them. The creativity that came naturally to his mother took Steve a bit of time, but he eventually realized what looked good. Usually, it was the simpler arrangements. He was good at that.
Linda was very kind in general, always giving him positive feedback and encouragement instead of criticism. Steve was lucky to have her, especially since his father was so hard on him. She loved and cared for him unconditionally. While his father constantly tried to make him feel inferior, her belief in him built him up to be the strong, confident man he now was.
When his mom had to step back even more from the business to travel abroad with his dad, Steve suggested they hire Robin. Scoops hadn't been fun for her, probably ever, and Steve had missed her since graduating.
At first, Steve didn’t think he’d like working at the shop, but like a flower, it had grown on him. He liked helping people, talking to them, and most surprisingly, he liked the flowers and what he could do with them. While he liked roses—after he removed their thorns, of course—his true favorite was sunflowers.
Working there suited him. It was simple. It let him use his hands and mind in ways he hadn’t tapped into while in school or doing sports. He enjoyed the additive and subtractive aspects of flower arranging. His favorite part was the pruning. It was almost cathartic. He loved pulling and clipping off all the unnecessary parts and making them look perfect.
It took Steve a minute to recognize the man walking around the shop.
Last month, when he was working on the big window display, Steve had seen him for the first time. Guitar case, long rocker hair, enough rings and piercings to set off a metal detector fifty miles away… but Steve remembered it most because the guy had tried to say something to him through the glass. He had left before Steve had gotten the chance to go out and ask him what he’d said.
The second time, Robin had waited on the mystery man. Steve had just caught him walking out with a dozen Black-eyed Susans while he stood there, disgruntled, in his soil-stained apron.
This time—the third time—it was late, and Robin had already clocked out for the night. Steve was sick. He was in the middle of a cold and just wanted to go home and crawl into bed. But even though he wasn’t feeling good, he knew he still had to do his job. There were flowers to be sold.
So, mustering up a charming smile, Steve approached him. "Can I help you find anything today?"
🌷🪻🌻🌹
this part written by my stevie, @batty4steddie (psst, go check out her gorgeous st gifs too) 💕
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ineffable-rohese · 4 months
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Neil's picks for Aziraphale & Crowley's Angelic Playlist were Cry Me a River (Julie London), The Book of Love (Peter Gabriel), and The Show Must Go On (Queen).
Three songs. Two about the aftermath of a break up, and one about coming together in love. So very clearly, we can infer a Crowley POV song, an Aziraphale POV song, and a song for the two of them and their happily ever after. (Song lyrics for all three after the cut for reference.)
The Book of Love is a perfect wedding song. It's a song to play under two people declaring their desire to spend eternity together. With lines about dancing and reading and it's perfect. It's originally a Magnetic Fields song that was released in 1999. Peter Gabriel recorded a cover in 2004 for the movie Shall We Dance about which I know nothing but the Wikipedia summary. But since we know how movies are important here... It's a standard rom-com with a bored Richard Gere secretly taking up ballroom dancing after following a pretty lady from the train (J-Lo). His wife (Susan Sarandon) thinks he's cheating, turns out nope, just dancing, drama ensues, he gives up dancing but eventually his wife becomes supportive and he realizes he loves his wife. And dancing. And they live happily ever after, with both of them getting what they want. Maybe we can draw some parallels here? But I think the song speaks for itself better than its connection with what sounds like a standard early 2000s romcom.
The individual songs are where it gets interesting.
Cry Me a River was first released by Julie London in 1951, but became popular after she sang it in the 1956 film The Girl Can't Help It starring Jayne Mansfield as an aspiring rock 'n roll singer. Again, relying on Wikipedia here, but there is an interesting bit about a blossoming forbidden relationship, wiretapped phones, and someone editing the recordings to keep the love affair secret. But again, it's probably a stretch to look too deeply into the movie.
The song has a very classic jazz feel. It's from a decade and a half later, but if you were, say, an angel who enjoyed Moonlight Serenade or A Nightingale Sang in Berkley Square, it has a similar feel. You definitely wouldn't say it's bebop. The lyrics are about someone who was in love and had their heartbroken. Their former love (who never shed a tear over the break up) has returned and wants to make up. The singer essentially says "you love me? Prove it. Cry me a river like I cried when you left." Which, fair, but in our context, ouch.
The Show Must Go On is a Queen song, and we know how much Queen we hear in association with Crowley in particular. But this just isn't any Queen song. It was written by Brian May about Freddie Mercury's struggles as he neared the end of his life, and it was recorded in 1990. (Coincidentally or not, the year Good Omens was published, a book co-created by friends, one of whom would die too soon, and the other of whom would reflect on his friend's end of life struggles as the story was told more fully. Yes, I'm crying about this.)
In the song, the singer is fighting to reach a place of freedom, away from empty spaces and heartbreak. They are fighting with pure will, and even though their heart is breaking they smile and carry on because the show must go on.
What I really appreciate here with the POV songs, is that they are cross-coded. Queen is Crowley-coded, but the song about someone fighting through heartbreak to achieve something vital, while forcing a smile for the audience? That's absolutely Aziraphale in Heaven. And the 40s/50s jazz ballad is absolutely Aziraphale's style, but the jilted lover who may be willing to give their love a second chance but needs to see proof that the lover cares as much as they do is Crowley all the way.
It's almost like... Well it's almost like even in their separation, they are each carrying a piece of the other. The book of love has music in it, indeed.
The Book of Love
The book of love is long and boring No one can lift the damn thing It's full of charts and facts, and figures And instructions for dancing But I I love it when you read to me. And you You can read me anything.
The book of love has music in it In fact that's where music comes from Some of it's just transcendental Some of it's just really dumb But I I love it when you sing to me And you You can sing me anything
The book of love is long and boring And written very long ago It's full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes And things we're all too young to know But I I love it when you give me things And you You ought to give me wedding rings
Cry Me a River
Now you say you're lonely You cry the whole night thorough Well, you can cry me a river, cry me a river I cried a river over you
Now you say you're sorry For bein' so untrue Well, you can cry me a river, cry me a river I cried a river over you
You drove me, nearly drove me out of my head While you never shed a tear Remember, I remember all that you said Told me love was too plebeian Told me you were through with me and
Now you say you love me Well, just to prove you do Come on and cry me a river, cry me a river I cried a river over you
The Show Must Go On
Empty spaces, what are we living for? Abandoned places, I guess we know the score, on and on Does anybody know what we are looking for?
Another hero, another mindless crime Behind the curtain, in the pantomime Hold the line Does anybody want to take it anymore?
The show must go on The show must go on, yeah Inside my heart is breaking My makeup may be flaking But my smile, still, stays on
Whatever happens, I'll leave it all to chance Another heartache, another failed romance, on and on Does anybody know what we are living for? I guess I'm learning I must be warmer now I'll soon be turning, round the corner now Outside the dawn is breaking But inside in the dark I'm aching to be free
The show must go on The show must go on Inside my heart is breaking My makeup may be flaking But my smile, still, stays on
My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies Fairy tales of yesterday, grow but never die I can fly, my friends
The show must go on The show must go on I'll face it with a grin I'm never giving in On with the show I'll top the bill I'll overkill I have to find the will to carry on On with the show Show Show must go on, go on, go on, go on, go on, go on, go on, go on
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cobaltperun · 3 months
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Lost (14) - Collide
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Tara Carpenter x female Reader
Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.
Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics
Word count: 5.1k
Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part
-Where do we go from here when they're tearing down our lives?-
The steaming mug of hot chocolate, a warm blanket, and another night all alone. If only there weren't so many memories tied to this house she would have moved somewhere, at least to an apartment or something. It was just too hard to think of anywhere else as her home. Even now that she had a second chance in you.
In a way, at the very least.
You've said it once, you're not Zack. You're still the only family he had beside her. At least as far as the family that accepted him goes. So, in a way, you were the only living reminder of him. You made her so happy when you visited her. And you brought the most wonderful, loving girl, with you.
Her phone suddenly rang. Maybe it was you, she rarely got calls from anyone else, but you made sure to call every now and then. Then she'd get to talk to you, Tara, and sometimes even Sam. Now that she thought about it, she had an unread message from you, she got it while she was at work and then it slipped her mind to read it later. That was probably why you were calling. So, Susan picked up her phone.
"Hello, Susan," she didn't recognize the voice. Maybe it was one of the patients from the hospital, or a doctor or a nurse she rarely talked to.
"Hello, I'm sorry, but who is this?" she took a sip from her mug, waiting for the answer.
"Oh, no one important. I was actually calling because of Y/N, she told me you are her half-brother's mother and that if anything happened, I could call you," Susan immediately sat up straight at that.
"Did something happen to her?" she wanted to hang up and call you right away.
"Not yet, no, but it could. So, what's your favorite scary movie?" Susan, having read the books after what happened to you, recognized the line. She remembered the state you and Tara were in when you came to her house.
If what she heard was true she was done for. The killer was with her. So, she hung up, quickly opening the messages. She didn't even get to type a single letter before a knife stabbed her back. She cried out, dropping her phone. The piercing of her flesh continued as the figure of a masked monster in black robes came into her line of sight. The stabs would have been enough, but the killer made two deep cuts on the crooks of her arms. She'd bleed out slow enough for it to hurt, but quickly enough so that no one could help her.
And then the monster left her, lying on the floor.
She could barely move her arms, but the adrenaline still pumping through her veins helped her reach the phone. She managed to type exactly three letters as her vision became blurry and hit send. She wouldn't be found until two days later when a neighbor noticed her doors were left wide open.
Thousands of miles away, all the way in New York you were woken up by your phone. You groaned, reaching over to your nightstand, and seeing the message. You smiled. Leave it to Susan to respond with only one word.
"Mhmm, Y/N," Tara hid her face from the light coming from your screen.
"Sorry, Love. It's Susan. I'm guessing she's down to spend Thanksgiving with us," you kissed the top of Tara's head when you felt her smile against your neck. It was Tara's idea, really. So, you went and invited Susan to spend a week in New York, since you hadn't seen each other ever since you came to New York.
Her response? Fun. You figured that was a 'yes' and sent her a thumbs up, which she immediately read. No response came, but you expected that. You'd just call her after you figure out a proper plan for that week. Which would have to wait, because you had another exhausting week ahead of you.
~X~
Nine, god damn, hours. You felt like you were just about ready to kick Thomas' ass for just dropping a two-week-long vacation on you out of the blue. If only it was your vacation.
So, instead of canceling his classes you were replacing him. Instead of doing the morning sessions and the second afternoon training session, which would mean 4 and a half hours at the gym, you were stuck with Thomas' sessions as well. Which basically meant you were at the gym from 6:45 am to 10:15 a.m., then again from 11:45 a.m. to 3:15 p.m., and finally from 4:45 to 8:15 p.m. So, nine hours of training people and an hour and a half to keep the gym running. By the time you came home after the third training session, you were too exhausted to do anything.
Tara hated it even more than you did. You tried, you really did, you'd go back home after each double training session, and you'd buy flowers, things like that, but it didn't help much. You loved how needy Tara was, how she wanted to spend time with you, to be held by you. Right now, her neediness proved to be a double-edged sword.
You tried to watch a movie with her, but you fell asleep. Tara understood that. She did not understand how you fell asleep last night while she kissed your neck. She wouldn't even look at you, or speak to you when you dropped by after morning sessions.
That's how you ended up right where you were now. Waiting for Sam, because you had a feeling it would be better if Sam was with you when you came home. You couldn't be more thankful when she came out of the therapy much sooner than she was supposed to.
"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes," you greeted the moment Sam got into the passenger seat. Then you noticed the look on her face, that defeated look that told you she opened up a bit and it didn't go well. "Rough therapy?"
Sam looked at you, her eyes softening as she noticed just how tired you looked. "Rough day?"
You turned the engine on, loving the way the car came to life. "You have no idea," you sighed, just ready to get home, take the coldest shower possible to keep yourself awake, and hopefully make up for the last night's inability to stay awake. At least driving wasn't an issue. You never bothered to seek an explanation, but whenever you were driving you were completely awake, no matter how little sleep you had, or how tired you were. Step out of the car, sleepy, behind the wheel, completely awake.
"Tara?" Sam guessed, though that probably wasn't difficult, you saw how cranky Tara was this morning. Sam must have seen it as well.
"Uh... let's just say I fell asleep when I shouldn't have," you blushed, hoping that Sam wouldn't question it further.
"You've been exhausted ever since Thomas left, I'm sure Tara understands that," Sam did not avoid further questioning.
"Yeah, not when you fall asleep while your girlfriend is kissing your neck," you grumbled through clenched teeth. You didn't need to turn to look at Sam, you could feel the incredulous look on her face. In your defense, Tara was warm, and lying on top of you, and you were tired, and the kisses felt really comforting and good. Comfy and sleepy was a combination not even you could beat.
Sam suddenly began stifling a laugh. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's just funny," well, you'd probably laugh about it once Tara gets over it. "You two will be fine, Tara just misses you, you know?"
You nodded, not taking your eyes off the road. "I know, Sam, I miss her too," you couldn't help but smile, it was just a small lover quarrel, not even that, really, since you didn't have the capacity to participate.
"I have an idea," you were vaguely aware of Sam pulling out her phone. Was she calling Tara? Probably.
No one answered though and you were suddenly reminded of what happened roughly four months ago.
"You know you're supposed to pick up when I call," Sam's concerned voice made you even more worried. "I got out of therapy early and Y/N is driving me back home. I was thinking we could cook dinner tonight. I mean, if that's what you'd like," she left the message and sighed.
"She probably, ah, I don't even know, maybe her phone is charging?" you were grasping at straws, but you weren't ready to think of the other options just yet.
"Or she's at a party, Omega something," Sam buried her face in her hands, trying her best to not get frustrated right away.
"What party?" shit, you were starting to think falling asleep last night was the worst possible timing, ever.
"There's a frat party tonight, she really wanted to go, but I begged her not to," the arrangement you and Sam managed to get Tara to agree to, remained unspoken.
After Tara first disappeared and went to a party the three of you came to an agreement. She could have her parties, as long as you or Sam were with her. Mindy or Chad wouldn’t do, Tara refused to listen to them, she refused to stop unless you or Sam made her stop, and as worried about Tara as they were, they didn’t exactly want to go to parties to babysit her. You wouldn't stop her from having fun or drinking until she reached a very specific point between drunk and no longer aware of what was happening.
You hated just watching over her, but you tried to step in sooner exactly one time before she got drunk. The next time there was a party Tara went and disappeared again, so you just figured it was better to stay by her side and make sure she was fine than to drive around the whole damn city looking for her.
"I don't know how to reach her, Sam," the mental toll of watching Tara cope in one of the worst ways possible was slowly getting to you. You'd do anything to get her to stop drinking like that, but she just wouldn't listen to you. "Should I just drive straight to that party?"
Sam thought it over. "Let's check if she's home first."
You both knew it was extremely unlikely, but you still hoped.
You hoped even as Sam unlocked the apartment, but you couldn't hope once it was clear Tara wasn't there. You leaned against the wall, completely awake now. "She didn't even bring her taser," you pointed out, huffing as you began pacing the apartment. You knew you should already be heading out to find Tara, but you just needed a moment.
"I'll go get her, rest for a bit," you wanted to argue when Sam said that, but honestly, you just felt relief. "I'll call you if she's not at that party."
"Thanks," you just let her, not sure how drunk Tara would be, or if you were ready for another hunt all over New York, so if you could delay it even for ten or fifteen minutes, you'd accept that opportunity.
"How the fuck am I supposed to help you, Tara?" you leaned back against the sofa, letting your eyes close just for a moment. The next time you opened your eyes it was because of your phone ringing. "Did you find her?" you immediately got up, ready to get the car keys if Sam didn't find Tara.
"I did. She's pissed though, she should be at the apartment in a minute or two," Sam warned you.
"She's pissed? Brilliant! Just perfect!" you hung up just as you yanked the doors open and saw Tara climbing up the stairs.
"Don't you even start!" she yelled the moment she saw your mouth opening.
You felt really close to snapping as you stepped outside the apartment to meet Tara. "Oh, I'm sorry, did your party get interrupted?"
You could see she was going to walk by you and get inside, but the mocking in your tone made her halt right next to you. "It did! And you know what? I was about to hook up with a guy!" if you were any less tired, any more attentive to the way her eyes immediately filled with regret when she said that, then maybe you would have been able to control your temper.
Not tonight though. "Well, it certainly wouldn't be the first time you were with someone while loving me, now, would it?!"
Tara recoiled as if you slapped her. "Do not bring Amber into this, Y/N!"
"Hey, come on, this isn't like you," Chad tried to get between you two.
"Stay out of this," you warned, but Tara was already heading inside.
"No need! We're done talking!" she yelled while marching to your room.
"Oh, no, not this time, Tara!" you went after her, catching the doors just as she was about to slam them shut.
"What do you want, Y/N?! I'm living my life, you hear me?! it's mine, not ours!" she screamed, pushing her finger into your chest. "You're possessive, you won't let me go to any party alone; you've become even more controlling than Amber!"
You threw your hands up in the air, just for a moment looking anywhere but at Tara. "Maybe I wouldn't have to be if you had an ounce of self-control! Or do I need to remind you how I found you the two times you were at a party on your own?!"
"What of it? I ended up in a bad place twice, and? Surely, I've run out of all the awful things that can happen to me by now!" she was having difficulty breathing and the red haze that had overcome you faded away.
"And if you haven't? If someone takes advantage of how drunk you are?" you stopped shouting, even though some of the anger was still there.
Tara just shrugged. "Add it to the list, I guess," you stepped away from her and went outside the room. "Y/N!" she gasped your name but didn't come after you, a coughing fit kept her in place.
You came back to the room, unpacking the inhaler you got a few days ago. "Your current one ran out, right?" you pulled her down to sit next to you and brought the inhaler to her mouth. "I can't, Tara, I can't take it if something happens to you again," you could only hope she would finally hear you. Judging by the way she clung to you, gripping your shirt like it was the only thing keeping her grounded, a tiny bit of you hoped she would hear you.
"You're not angry with me?" she asked, tired of shouting as well, tired of being angry, of not having you around since you started covering Thomas’ part of the training.
You almost told a lie. "I am, but I'm more worried about you than I'm angry at you," especially when her asthma gets triggered. At that point, any argument can wait and you guessed those pauses also made both of you calm down.
"I wasn't really going to hook up with anyone. I just wanted, I don't even know what I wanted. To make you angry, or to hurt you, I guess? I regretted it the moment I said it," she confessed, tentatively climbing into your lap for comfort.
You took a deep breath, feeling the tension between you two dissipating with every moment.
"I'm not messed up," she whispered into your ear, the desire to continue what she started last night evident in her eyes, but you shook your head.
"No, you are. You are still drunk," you weren't about to do anything with Tara while she was even slightly drunk.
Tara responded with a huff and pulled back from you as much as she could while still sitting on your lap. "Fine, fine," she knew better than to argue with you on that.
A knock on the doors caught your attention and Tara got off your lap so you could go and open the doors.
"Oh, thank God you're not fighting anymore," Anika said as soon as she noticed neither one of you was frowning.
"Told you love birds would be fine," Mindy patted her on the back.
Chad coughed. "More important things people," he reminded the two and you tilted your head to the side. "You need to see this," he pointed toward the TV and you felt a shiver run down your spine due to the worried look on his face.
You couldn't believe the nightmare was starting again. Someone was brutally stabbed and a Ghostface mask was found at the scene of the crime. Even worse than that Mindy recognized the names and from the look on Tara's face so did she.
"You know them?" you asked as you sat down next to her.
"Barely, not that it matters, this isn't about us," you could see the worry in her eyes, the fear that it actually was about all of you.
That's when Sam came in, followed by a guy you came across every now and then. Danny? Tara thought something was going on between Sam and him, but she didn't have proof and you weren't about to ask Sam if she wasn't going to talk.
The moment Sam figured out what was going on it was like someone flipped a switch. "Pack a bag, we leave in ten," you and Tara just looked at each other.
"Sam! Wait, Sam!" Tara went after her into the kitchen.
"We're leaving town," Sam ordered, not even for a moment considering Tara's objection.
You walked in, hugging Tara around her waist from behind to calm her down, she just had an asthma attack and you wanted her to feel safe. "Sam, you know running away didn't work last time," sure, you came back to Woodsboro willingly, but Amber and Richie were going to use Chad, Mindy, and Liv as bait anyway.
"It'll work this time," Sam picked up the biggest knife you had and went back to the living room.
Tara got out of your hug but began holding your hand. "Hold on, let's talk for a second. 'Cause this might not have anything to do with us," Tara followed after Sam, trying to reason with her.
"Are you serious?" Sam demanded, finally turning to look at Tara.
"It's a big city! It's Halloween. Everybody's wearing masks! You don't know-"
"Tara! Tara, this isn't a coincidence! You knew him!" Sam interrupted.
"Barely," Tara leaned back into you, prompting you to once again place your arms around her waist.
"Chad, Mindy, back me up," Sam turned to the twins.
"I mean it is a bit..." the expression on Chad's face showed he agreed with Sam.
"Too close to home," Mindy basically finished for him.
"Sam, we finally got our lives together here," you took Tara’s side, yes there were issues, yes, Tara wasn't handling things properly, but you were building something here.
"We'll do that again, somewhere safer," Sam assured you, not even wasting a second to push back against any arguments in favor of staying.
"So, you're just making the unilateral decision to abandon my and Y/N's college education and flee the fucking state!" Tara clenched her fingers around your hands. The weaker grip in her left hand nearly made you reconsider.
"Y/N," Sam turned to you, looking for support. "Please don't take Tara's side just because it's Tara."
You shook your head. "Sam, I'm not going to run every time there's a hint of danger. If we do that we'll always be on the run, I won't live like that and if Tara doesn't want that-"
"Which I don't," Tara quickly chimed in.
"Then I won't let you force her to live like that," you could feel Tara's anxiety rising as Sam remained silent.
And then the phone rang, and Tara nearly jumped in your arms. She wasn't the only one affected, everyone was put on edge by Sam's phone ringing.
Sam went over to the phone and rejected the call. "It was Gale," she said, which wasn't a good sign. Especially since Gale's book didn't exactly make any of you the fans of the reporter.
"Why did everyone freak out when her phone rang?" you almost forgot Ethan was there.
"You gotta keep up, my dude," Anika just told him.
Sam's phone rang again, this time from an unknown caller, and though anxiously she still picked up. "Yes?"
There was a pause for a few moments. "Yes, it's me," Sam replied to whoever was on the other side of the line. "Okay, okay, I'll come," she hung up. "It's the police, they want me to come down to the station," she didn't waste a moment and picked her jacket up to leave.
Tara just looked at you. There was no need to talk, you grabbed your jackets and you turned to Chad. "You guys be careful," you went after Tara, grabbing the keys on the way. You considered driving, but the police station wasn't that far and it was late, it was Halloween and people were partying, so maybe walking was a better option.
You caught up with Tara at the bottom of the stairs and she gave you a quick, though a bit uncertain, smile. "We'll be fine, Love," you quickly leaned down to kiss the top of her head and then she led you outside, after Sam.
"Sam, slow down," Tara called after her sister.
"Tara, no, get back inside, lock the doors," Sam immediately rejected the idea of Tara coming with her.
"Are you serious? Now you don't want to stick together? Besides, I have Y/N," and both you and Sam knew Tara would feel better if you were there for both her and Sam.
"You heard the boss, Sam, don't fight this," you offered Sam a cheeky smile and she just shook her head.
"Fine, let's go."
~X~
You were about ten minutes away from the station when Sam's phone rang again and you saw that the caller was... Richie?
"The fuck?" Tara said exactly what you thought.
"I never deleted his contact," you raised an eyebrow at that. Really, Sam? "This is coming from his number."
"Don't pick that up," Tara told her, but you were already tuning the conversation out, instead looking around the three of you.
Whoever was behind this now couldn't appear out of nowhere. You couldn't see anything suspicious behind you, but you felt Tara quickly grabbing onto your forearm. You turned around and saw a man approaching, holding a phone, so you stepped in front of Tara and Sam, ready to act the moment he made any move.
There was no need for that, the man just walked by the three of you.
The police sirens put you on edge as you made sure Tara was close to you.
"You shouldn't believe everything you read on the internet, asshole," just as Sam said it you noticed a movement to your right.
And there it was. The familiar robe and mask coming almost out of nowhere, hidden by the darkness. You pushed Tara toward Sam and stepped between the two and the reoccurring nightmare. You did a quick jab followed by a hook, sending the figure into the bicycles behind him.
Something felt wrong. He fell too easily. As if he decided to fall. "Run!" you ushered Tara and Sam, not that you needed to as Sam was already getting Tara away from the could-have-been fight.
You turned back when you caught up to them, to see the Ghostface chasing after you.
"Y/N?!" you saw fear in Tara's eyes, the confusion caused by you of all people running.
"Something's different! I don't know what, but it just feels wrong!" you liked to think years of fighting gave you a good sense of what someone can and can't do in a fight and you didn't like one bit what happened right there.
Your words only increased Tara's fear. "Help! Please!" She cried out, hoping maybe someone would hear her.
"In there!" Sam pointed at a bodega just around the corner.
The three of you ran in, with Tara and Sam cutting the line and pleading for the clerk to call the police. You just stood with your back behind them, waiting for Ghostface. You saw him at the door, looking much bigger than you. Tara, probably still thinking about what you just told her, grabbed onto your forearm, and tried to pull you back. "Please, Y/N," you glanced back, seeing the fear in her eyes. That one moment was enough for everything to go wrong. Ghostface quickly killed two men, tossing them aside and advancing toward the three of you.
"Sam! Don't!" judging by Tara's screams you figured Sam was pulling her back.
You relaxed, easily shifting into a fighting stance. As wrong as it felt, you knew there wasn't a way out without a fight. Besides, if you could end this now, you'd have only one more Ghostface to worry about.
"Hey!" the man working at the bodega shouted and raised a shotgun, firing it at Ghostface. As the Ghostface vanished behind the shelves you couldn't help but wonder why the man didn't just shoot first. You know, without warning the clearly armed and dangerous masked individual.
"Go out the back!" he told the three of you.
Well, you weren't about to waste that.
"Thank you!" Tara said, but as the three of you got to the back doors you realized it was locked. "Shit! Keys! We need your keys!"
The man turned to give them to her and Ghostface took his chance. Stabbing the man and taking the shotgun, shooting the man that tried to help you.
The three of you ducked behind shelves and you glanced at Tara. You've fought Ghostface before. You were afraid before. But back then you were afraid for Tara. Now you were afraid of the killer. There was nothing you could do against a shotgun. There was no way you could get shot and survive, let alone continue fighting. There was no way Tara or Sam would survive and just for a moment, between fight, flight, or freeze, your body chose to freeze.
Ghostface shot the freezers behind you, shattering the glass. Sam began moving again, trying to crawl to safety, trying desperately to keep Tara alive. Tara, however, wouldn't move an inch without you.
Another shot knocked a bunch of cans down, halting your escape and making Tara squeeze your hand. That snapped you out of it and you pulled the two of them back toward freezers. From the looks of it, you did that just in time as Ghostface came to the side you were on mere moments ago. You looked at Tara and moved, staying crouched as you moved toward Ghostface. You'd go around the shelves and try to take him down from behind.
Your heart hammered in your chest when you turned around the corner and saw a shotgun right in front of your face. You weren't fast enough to get it out of the way, no, you were allowed to grab it and lift it up. "Run!" the last time you screamed as loud as you just did Amber was holding Tara at gunpoint.
"Y/N!" Tara screamed your name, but you didn't look at her, you looked at Sam.
"Take Tara and run, damn it!" you yelled, pushing the shotgun up to make sure Ghotface couldn't shoot any of you. You couldn't focus on anything else, not on the screaming or Sam's frantic attempts to get Tara out of bodega, you could only focus on the fight. You felt a small sense of relief, knowing that as long as you kept holding the shotgun Ghostface wouldn't be able to let go of it either.
The moment you vaguely heard the doors opening you yanked the shotgun down and kneed the man in his stomach. There wasn't even a grunt, but he tossed the shotgun away so that neither of you could use it. You let him, using the small opening to land an uppercut to the jaw, followed by several hard and fast punches to the face. You pushed him into the counter, continuing the assault. It felt wrong. It felt like your punches barely affected him. He was moving, reacting to your punches, but it was too much, it was as if he was moving on his own, and not due to your hits.
A hard hit to the side knocked all the air from your lungs and he easily pushed you back. He slammed his shoulder into you, taking you to the ground. You gasped for air, barely having time to put up a guard before a fist could connect with your face. You recognized this feeling all too well. You were in this exact position plenty of times. You raised your elbow, hitting his jaw and getting up just enough to put him in a chokehold.
Another hit to the side nearly made you let him go, but you squeezed harder, trying to find a way to snap his neck despite the mask. The third hit to the side loosened your hold enough for him to get on his feet and slam you back down on the ground. You felt like everything was spinning as he repeated the same motion again. Lifting your entire body up and slamming it back down on the hard floor. By now you were too shaken to even hold onto him.
And then you went flying, right through the glass and onto the pavement.
"Y/N!" that was Tara's voice. Shit. She didn't get far enough.
"Run, you idiot," you wheezed as you rolled over, trying to get on your hands and knees. The police arriving saved your life.
Tara was immediately with you, yet you barely heard her saying your name, you barely felt her worried touch. A single thought went through your mind as the police officers scattered around the perimeter and all you could see was a mask on the store's floor. 'I can't beat him.'
A/N: Scream 6 starts! Nothing to say here. Thank you for reading! Updated on: 30.03.2024.
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sailor-aviator · 4 months
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Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Ten
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Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Ten
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.
Trigger warnings: Mentions of death, Language, Talk of mating rituals, Talk of potentially life threatening situations, Smut (oral, f receiving), Dirty talk, Confrontations. I think that's it, but please let me know if I've missed anything!
Word Count: 4k
Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List
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The rain was more of a mist in the following days, setting the mood that had fallen over the rest of the town. Seagulls cried off in the distance and the waves crashed almost dully against the drab beaches of North Island. It was like the life had been sucked out of the little town in a matter of seconds.
Had anyone liked Mandy? Not particularly, but the idea of someone you’ve known your entire life meeting such a violent and unexpected end was sure to make people feel some type of way. Maybe not overwhelming sadness, but perhaps a mixture of shock and fear. That could have been anyone after all.
You watched waves crash into the shore from your perch on some of the rocks outside the Floyd home. They had departed earlier that morning, dressed in all black and looking worn.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Susan asked you, her eyes rimmed red from the tears she had been shedding nonstop over the past couple of days. You had given her a tight-lipped smile.
“I’m sure, Susan,” you murmured, nodding slightly. “It wouldn’t make sense for me to go, anyway.”
There was no love lost between you and Mandy. In truth, she despised you, and you couldn’t say that you didn’t feel something similar towards her.
Still, the thought of her lifeless body laying there on the beach had tears springing to your eyes.
You had sobbed into Bob’s chest, shoulders shaking and fingers becoming stiff from clutching him so hard. It wasn’t until a pair of gentle hands rested on your arms that you opened your eyes, revealing concerned, familiar green staring back at you. You flung yourself into Jake’s arms, your tears and sobs starting anew as he held you tightly, stroking a hand over your hair as he murmured assurances into your ear.
You felt ridiculous for it, really. You hadn’t even known Mandy all that well, and there you had been, in hysterics as if you had while everyone else stayed strong for you. So, no. It didn’t feel right to attend her funeral, so you stayed behind, allowing those who knew her the chance to mourn her properly.
The mist clung to you, seeping down into your bones until a chill settled over you and you could no longer keep the shaking at bay. You trudged up the wooden stairs to the back of the house, the grey light casting a gloomy glow throughout the different rooms as you made your way up the stairs to change.
You had promised Nat that you would swing by Mrs. Cambroni’s shop to pick up the masks for the Moonlight Masquerade that weekend.
“I would go,” she had murmured, her face drawn and a distant look in her eyes as she spoke, “but I have to be there.”
“I understand, Nat,” you had assured her. “Don’t worry about it. I’m happy to help in any way that I can.”
So now you found yourself walking down the nearly empty streets toward the boardwalk. Most people were tucked away in their houses or in the various businesses that didn’t require one to be outside in the rain, and in some ways, you envied them.
You had expected this summer to be uneventful at best, spending time with Bob and his childhood friends while swimming and winning prizes on the boardwalk. It was supposed to be a fun, but overall underwhelming time spent with new and old friends before you went on to continue your studies with Bob.
Instead, you found yourself in the middle of a nightmarish fairytale filled with mermaids and murder. It chilled you to think of how many times you had been dragged beneath the waves and the one time you had. But, you wondered if all would be well now, as horrible as it seemed. After all, it was Mandy that had tried to kill you that morning by luring you into the water. Would it really be that big of a stretch to assume that she was behind the other murders as well? You supposed not, considering that seemed to be the line of thinking everyone had adopted. They tried to steer clear of that conversation for the most part, but you had overheard Nat and Bradley talking in hushed tones the day before about delayed claiming. They had stopped when you walked into the room, and before you could question them further, they had directed you out the door with the promise of ice cream.
They should have known by now that you wouldn’t drop it.
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The bell above the door chimed to signal your entrance, and you shuddered as a wave of air-conditioned air washed over your still damp form. Why you thought changing would help, you weren’t sure, but it never failed to hope. The static laced pop song from the radio that sat on the counter filtered throughout the shop, feeling almost suffocatingly normal to you now.
You immediately headed for the display table near the front. An array of masks sparkled in the fluorescent lighting of the shop, and one in particular stood out to you. It was an off-white fabric that was embroidered with baby blue and pink flowers, different colored pearls embellishing the fabric. It amazed you how perfectly it matched the dress Nat had picked out for you, as if someone had known you’d need it.
“I was wondering when you’d stop by.”
You whirled around to meet the green eyes of Cole. He smiled as you placed a hand over your heart, willing the muscle to calm down.
“You startled me,” you groused half-heartedly, offering him a smile. He peered around, frowning when he saw you were all alone.
“You by yourself today?” He asked, brows pinching in concern. You shrugged, turning back to the mask and picking it up from the table.
“Everyone else is at the funeral.”
“Right,” he murmured, walking over to stand by you. “My aunt went to pay her respects.”
“You didn’t want to?” You questioned, earning a sigh from the older man.
“It’s not that I didn’t want to,” he hesitated, “but it wasn’t like Mandy was well liked, was she? I certainly wasn’t her biggest fan.”
“You shouldn’t speak ill of the dead,” you replied, voice almost a whisper as the gruesome scene that plagued your thoughts once again flashed in your mind’s eye.
“The dead aren’t here to listen,” he snorted, shoving his hands in his pocket. Your eyes flickered over to him before turning your attention back to the mask in your hand. The two of you stood in silence for a brief moment as you ran your fingers over the mask.
“Has anyone told you yet why we throw on the Moonlight Masquerade every year?” He asked, turning to face you.
“Isn’t it just another excuse for everyone to get dressed up and wasted?” You countered with a snort. Cole grinned, plucking the mask from your hands.
“We celebrate it,” he began, hovering the mask over his face, “to remind us that the sea people walk amongst us undetected. That they could be anyone, and we would never know unless they revealed themselves to us.”
“I suppose it’s great for the local businesses to make some money too,” you chuckled. Cole smirked, handing the mask back to you before turning and heading towards an accessory display a few shelves over.
“You know,” he drawled, casually running his fingers over the different necklaces before grabbing one off the line, “it would be a shame if your look was marred by that mark on your neck. Why don’t you wear this too?”
“The mark?” You balked, your hand flying up to reflexively touch the mark in question. It tingled underneath your fingers, and you couldn’t suppress the shudder that ran up your spine.
“Yeah,” he smirked, walking back towards you. “It actually reminds me of the claiming marks in the legends.”
“Does it?” You hummed. “You know, I’ve been hearing a lot about it, but no one has told me anything about it.”
The two of you stood in silence once again as Cole studied you, his face neutral and not giving anything away.
“What is it you want to know?”
“How does it work?” You asked, feeling excitement coil in your belly at the prospect of finally having your questions answered.
“Well,” Cole drawled, “let me see. You’ve heard the stories about the intention bites?”
You nodded.
“Good,” he continued with a nod, “well, the claiming bite is the next stage, the permanent stage. The sea people don’t give it without being completely sure about who they’re giving it to. People don’t accept it without being completely sure it’s what they want.”
“And why is that?” You breathed, leaning in closer, practically vibrating with anticipation. Cole smirked at you.
“Because it could kill you.”
You jerked back, eyes wide. “What?”
“The process can kill you,” Cole said as if he were talking about the weather.
“How?” You frowned, clutching the mask in your hand a little tighter.
“Well, it’s the whole process of it all, really,” he sighed, letting his eyes drift closed for a moment. “In order for a sea person to claim their chosen mate, they have to drag their partner down, down, down beneath the waves, cutting them off from air until they’re to the point of death. Then, they breathe life back into them, bringing their partner to the surface where the bond is sealed with a physical act followed by the claiming bite.”
You stood in shocked silence, processing what he was telling you. How had the others not told you any of this? Were they just going to let you walk into this blind?
“Are you okay, Skipper?” Cole asked, concern laced in his features as he watched you. You took a shaky breath before offering him a small smile.
“Yes,” you nodded. “Yes, Cole. Thank you. I should get going though. I promised Nat that I’d meet her later.”
“Don’t forget your masks,” he smiled, gesturing towards the table. You let out a laugh that was much too high pitched, wincing internally at how freaked out you sounded.
“Right,” you sighed, picking out a mask that you thought would match Nat’s dress, quickly scurrying after Cole towards the counter.
“I’ll see you around then, Skipper,” he smirked, handing you the paper bag once you had finished paying. You gave him a small wave before turning and all but fleeing the store, the bell chiming ominously after you.
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Cole’s words lingered in your mind as you walked along the boardwalk with Jake a few days later, his arm wrapped securely around your waist as you tucked yourself into his side. The sun hovered below the horizon, casting the last little bit of light onto the beach before the darkness of night took hold.
“Are you cold?” Jake asked, leaning down so that his breath brushed against the shell of your ear. A small shiver ran up your spine at the sensation, and you pressed yourself a little closer to him with a shake of your head.
“No,” you hummed, a content smile on your face as the two of you continued to walk. “‘m perfect, actually.”
“Yeah,” he smirked, green eyes sparkling as the two of you neared his home. “You are.”
You let out a rather unladylike snort as you trotted up the stairs and onto his porch. Jake grinned at you, trapping you between himself and the porch railing as he leaned in, arching an eyebrow at you.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” you giggled. “You’re just really fucking corny, sometimes.”
Jake’s mouth dropped open in fake outrage, sending you into a round of giggles as he pressed into you further, his knee slotting in between your thighs as he did so. Your giggles cut off into a small gasp, eyes growing wide as he leaned in close enough that his nose brushed yours.
“You think I’m corny?” He challenged, a devilish smirk finding its way onto his lips. You let out a shaky breath, unable to tear your eyes away from his as you nodded slightly.
“Yeah,” you replied, cursing yourself for losing composure so quickly. You shifted, unwittingly brushing your clothed core against his thigh and letting out a moan at the pressure against your clit.
The change in Jake was instantaneous. His green eyes began to glow as he let out a low growl, hands gripping your hips slightly harder as he deliberately rolled them back down onto him. You cried out, hands flying to find purchase in his shirt.
“That feel good, sweetheart?” He asked, the smirk once again finding a home on his face. “You like when I rub you right there?”
“Jake,” you whispered, eyes hooded with lust as you attempted to move against him. He tsked at you, holding you firmly in place as he gave you an admonishing look.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he tutted, leaning in to hover his lips above yours, his breath washing over you in hot waves as you let out a needy whine. “Good girls don’t take without asking.”
His lips pressed against yours then, slightly chapped but firm against your own. His tongue slid along your bottom lip, and you immediately granted him entrance, groaning as his tongue licked into you, stroking against your own. After a moment, Jake pulled back, nipping at your bottom lip before looking at you expectantly. It took you a moment before you realized what it was that he wanted.
You leaned up, capturing his lips with yours for a moment before leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses from his lips, down to his jaw, and down the length of his neck.
“Please, Jake,” you whimpered. “Please make me feel good.”
“I don’t know,” he hummed, teasingly. “It doesn’t sound like you really want it.”
You let out a frustrated grunt as you once again attempted to roll your hips down against him, only to have him stop you. You nipped at the base of his neck, soothing over the bite with your tongue. Jake stiffened against you, and before you could ask what was wrong, his hands slid to grasp the underside of your thighs, hauling you up and through the screen door, lips moving eagerly against yours as he did so.
Your arms wrapped around his neck, and you let out a gasp as you felt his length press against your thigh. Jake made a beeline for the stairs, and looking back later, you were impressed with how easily he managed to get the two of you up the stairs without incident. Jake maneuvered the two of you into the room you had slept in just two weeks before, and you realized in that moment that it was his room.
Jake sat you on the bed, pulling away with short pants of breath as he looked at you with hooded eyes.
“I promised I’d take it slow,” he murmured, gaze searching yours, letting you make the next move. You reached for him, pulling him towards you by his shirt.
“I don’t care,” you said firmly, shaking your head as you pulled back to look at him once more. “I don’t care. Need you.”
Jake’s lips connected with yours once more as he laid you down on the sheets, running a hand up your side and underneath your shirt to lay just below your breast. His lips left yours, mimicking your actions from earlier and trailing his lips down from your jaw to your neck where his mark lay. He ran his tongue gently over the mark, earning a keening cry from you as you arched into him.
Jake quickly pulled your shirt up above your head and making quick work of your braw before latching on to your right nipple. His other hand came up to tweak the other, sending rivers of pleasure straight to your core as you writhed and moaned beneath him.
“Jake!” You cried out as he scraped his teeth over the pebbled nub before switching his attention to the other. Your hands flew to his hair, fingers curling in the soft, blond strands as his hand moved down to unbutton your shorts, helping you slide them down your legs and onto the floor.
He peeled himself away from your breasts, trailing his tongue down the expanse of your stomach as he settled in between your thighs, eyes trained on your clothed core where you could feel the wet spot on your panties. Feeling heat pool in your cheeks at his hungry gaze, you attempted to close your legs, but Jake caught each knee in one hand, prying them back apart and leveling you with a glare.
“Don’t hide from me,” he growled, leaning forward to run his nose along your covered slit, inhaling deeply. He let out a strangled groan as you let out another gasp at the action, chest heaving with anticipation. His nose pressed into you, nudging your clit and sending you arching into his touch. You were sure it hurt with how tightly your fingers held onto his hair, but Jake was too lost in the bliss of you, mouthing at your center and reaching a hand down to push your panties to the side.
“This all for me?” He asked huskily, glancing up at you with hooded eyes. You swallowed thickly, only able to manage a nod. You let out a yelp as Jake frowned, turning towards your right thigh and biting down just hard enough to leave an imprint.
“I asked you a question, sweet girl,” he warned, soothing over the bite with his tongue as he gave you another glare from the corner of his eye.
“Yes!” you cried out. “Yes, it’s all for you.”
“I made you this wet, huh? Did I make my pretty girl feel good?” He prompted, peeling your panties down your legs.”
“Yes,” you sobbed, arching into him, desperate for some type of relief, but Jake was firm, holding you down as he toyed with you.
He hummed, darting his tongue out to give an experimental lick at your dripping slit. You let out a strangled cry, pressing your face into the sheets as he repeated the action.
Jake let out a low growl as he dove in, tongue fucking you as his nose repeatedly bumped against your clit, his strong hands keeping you open and on display for him. Your breaths came out in pinched cries as he drove you closer to your high, the coil inside your belly pulling tight. You nearly sobbed as he added a finger, plunging it into your depths, seeking out that spot inside of you.
“So tight,” he whispered, almost reverently as he focused his attention on your clit, adding a second finger and hooking them until you let out a wail. You felt him smirk against you, and if he wasn’t making you see stars, you’d have smacked.
“Did I find that sweet spot, pretty girl?” He chuckled, honing in on that spongy spot deep inside of you. Your release was quickly approaching, and your hips rocked up to meet his thrusts your hands moving to find purchase on his shoulders, nails digging into the skin.
Jake let out a low groan as your walls fluttered around his fingers, the sting of your fingernails driving him mad as he chased your release almost more eagerly than you did.
“Need you to come for me, angel,” he murmured, sucking your clit back between his lips and adding a third finger. The stretch of his fingers had you keening, and he sped his thrusts up. “Look so pretty like this, all strung out for me. Can’t wait to have you wrapped around my cock, this pretty little pussy milking me dry. I’m never going to get enough of you, I swear it. I’m gonna keep you nice and full, and you’ll feel me for days. Now come for me, sweetheart. Come all over my fingers.”
And with a brush of his teeth against your clit, you were sent careening over the edge with a high-pitched cry, your eyes scrunching closed as the coil in your belly finally snapped. Jake lapped up your release eagerly, tongue licking up everything you had to offer. You trembled in his grip, thighs shaking from excursion and aftershocks as the blond licked you clean. You let out a shaking breath as he pulled his fingers from you, licking your juices off with a hum.
“So sweet,” he murmured, eyeing you up and down with a small smirk. You fought to catch your breath, reaching out clumsily for him. He leaned into your touch, allowing you to pull him into a lazy, lust-filled kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, moaning at the flavor and reaching a hand down in between the two of you to grip his length. Jake let out a moan before pulling back abruptly, pupils blown as he looked at you.
“No,” he said, shaking his head, and you frowned up at him.
“What?”
“No, I-” he paused. “I don’t want our first time to be like this. I want to do it right.”
You watched him for a moment, your mind still reeling from the orgasm he had just pulled from you. Slowly, you nodded, pulling him down into another kiss, your fingers lacing through his hair to massage his scalp.
“Okay,” you nodded against his lips.
Jake smiled down at you, repositioning the two of you so that your heads were up by the headboard, facing each other as he traced his fingers absentmindedly over your skin. The two of you stayed like that for a while, just basking in each other's presence. You allowed your mind to wander, and it inevitably drifted to what Cole had told you the other day.
“It could kill you.”
“Jake?” You whispered, peering up at him from where you were nuzzled into his neck. He hummed, one eye slinking open to look at you.
“Is it true that the mating bite could kill me?” You asked, and Jake’s eyes shot open. He sat straight up, leaving you scrambling to follow.
“Where did you hear that?” He demanded, brow furrowed as he watched you wearily. You frowned up at him, your own brow pinching together as you regarded him.
“So, it’s true,” you muttered. Jake shook his head, running a hand through his hair as he let out a heavy sigh.
“It’s true that the mating bite comes with its risks,” he conceded, chewing on his bottom lip. You waited patiently for him to continue, curling your knees up to your chest as you watched him. “It’s rare for it to kill someone though.”
“But it does happen?” You prodded, lips pursed. Jake glanced at you before looking down at his lap.
“Very, very rarely,” he admitted. “The process becomes more dangerous the longer someone goes without taking a mate.”
“Like you?”
Jake looked at you fully, a look of hurt mixed with desperation painted on his pretty features. He reached for you, and you allowed him to cup your face in his hands, his thumb running gently over the apple of your cheek.
“I would never do anything to hurt you,” he murmured, eyes pleading as they darted over your face. “Don’t for a second believe that I wouldn’t kill for you, Skipper. You are everything to me.”
You studied him silently, eyes tracing over the hard lines of him. Jake had never given you a reason to not trust him. Quite the opposite, in fact. The desperation in his voice had a part of you regretting even bringing up the topic in the first place. You smiled up at him softly, running your fingers over his jawline, his day old stubble rubbing against the pads. You leaned up to place a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, laughing lightly as he tried to chase your lips with his.
“I trust you,” you whispered.
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A/N: Friendly reminder that I am in the process of redoing my tag lists. If you have not signed up for the new one, please do so by clicking the link at the top of the post! Please be sure to have your age/age range and blog filled out or I will not tag you and more than likely block you. As always, please comment and reblog to show your support! Updates are also posted on my AO3 account under sailor_aviator. If you enjoy my work, consider leaving me a tip!
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gallifreyanhotfive · 2 months
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Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 28
Donna Noble missed the Auton invasion of 2005 because she was sleeping off a massive hangover she got after realizing she had unrequited affection for a coworker. She similarly missed the Sycorax invasion due to a hangover.
The Doctor screamed as they were pulled from the Loom.
Trakenites have a natural empathy towards creatures in distress.
The Thirteenth Doctor had Preventacles on the TARDIS, which were psychic spectacles that allowed people to see the most likely events about to occur in their future. Dan once accidentally put them on because he thought they were sunglasses.
Baris is the Doctor’s "Number One Fan." He had Mega Plastic Surgery to make himself look just like the Tenth Doctor, even changing his voice to match and getting a second heart implanted in him.
The ones knocking on the outside of the spaceship in the episode Listen were once suggested to be River Song and Jack Harkness.
It is possible for a Time Lord to be time blind.
During the game the Eighth Man Bound, an "Initiate" would sit in the middle of a circle and take some drugs, and those in the circle around them would give them an identity crisis by repeating their name until it lost meaning. This would cause them to enter a state of flux between their regenerations and see their future bodies. The game was incredibly dangerous and could result in regeneration or loss of identity. About fifteen Academy students died from it every semester. The Doctor holds the record for this game.
Sarah Jane Smith once confessed to Cindy Wu that she had fallen in love with a "lovely, brave silly man" once but that her chance had passed by the time she'd worked out her feelings.
The Time Lord retina is capable of thinking on its own.
Callum was originally a mouse that the Master turned into a boy in an attempt to get a new body.
The Doctor claims that they delivered Genghis Khan.
The Doctor and likely other Time Lords do not have prostates.
Bernice Summerfield originally thought that Star Trek: The Next Generation was a documentary program rather than a fictional show.
Rassilon's Universal Solvent is a blue, glowing liquid. The Fifth Doctor said that it dissolved universes.
Time Lords often keep their Looms in cradles. They would whisper to each other at night.
Inside the TARDIS, there is a place a remembrance where the Doctor keeps all sorts of mementos from his past companions. In this place, the Fifth Doctor has a copy of The French Revolution that Barbara had given to Susan, Sara Kingdom's Space Security Service ID, Adric's Badge for Mathematical Excellence, and more.
Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28
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theamberfist · 10 days
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Leave it all on the Dance Floor! | Alastor x Overlord! Reader
Platonic! Alastor + Best Friend! Reader who's also an overlord.
Description: After seven years, Alastor pays a visit to the territory of his best friend, an overlord with the power to make people dance.
(Notes: CW Alastor, mentions of cannibalism) If you like this I will make more parts!
"More wine?" A voice beside you asked gently and you turned your head to see your trusted assistant, Joan, standing there with a tray of wine glasses in her hand. Your expression softened at the sight of her but you shook your head.
"No, thanks." You replied with a sigh. You must have been zoning out before because now that she'd gotten your attention, the music playing nearby didn't seem nearly loud enough and you reached over to the speaker on your right to turn up the dial. Joan, a demon that highly resembled a black cat, frowned.
"Not enjoying tonight's party?" She asked with slight disappointment evident in her voice. After all, the two of you had always worked so hard to put on events like this for those living in your Swing Sector. It helped keep their spirits and, therefore, loyalties high despite the fact that their souls were owned by another; or at least, that was the reason you'd always given. In truth, the feline knew there was probably no need to go to such lengths. After all, you were one of the most beloved overlords in the entirety of the pentagram, and most of these sinners had handed their souls over to you willingly.
"I'm just a little tired from the rest of this week." You replied finally before glancing at your demon assistant again with some hope in your eyes. "Any word on my 'special' guests?" Maybe if one of them showed up, you'd find it within yourself to enjoy tonight like Joan wanted you to.
Your hope died a second later, though, when she shook her head. "Zestial and Carmine both politely declined but sent their regards," she explained, "Our other guest gave no response, and it seems Rosie will not be able to attend this evening."
Damnit. There went that plan. You always invited your overlord friends to attend these parties, and usually, three out of four of their answers were always the same. Zestial and Carmilla didn't consider dancing to be their scene, and he hadn't been seen in years, so despite sending word of every gathering, you'd stopped expecting to hear anything back.
But Rosie usually did her best to attend whenever you invited her. She always said how she just loved the chance to spend time with you and you both had gotten more than accustomed to dancing together. She was rather talented at it too, and you'd lost count of how many times you'd won dance contests at these events. She wouldn't have missed one of these if it wasn't totally necessary, so you suspected something important must have come up.
"Susan again?" You asked Joan with a sigh, earning a solemn nod from the catlike demon.
"I'm sure her actions had something to do with Rosie's absence tonight, yes." She told you as politely as possible, not wanting to insult any of your friend's people in front of you, even when she knew how much you hated that one in particular.
"If I see Susan again I'll have to make her regret keeping my friend away from another of our parties," you decided as you took a glass of wine from Joan's tray now, "This is the third month in a row." Joan nodded before slipping away to continue serving wine to the other party attendees and you sighed as you continued sipping wine from your place above the dance floor.
Out in front of you, nearly everyone from the Swing Sector was enjoying their evening. From drinking to dancing to chatting, it was all just how you liked it; the only problem was that in recent years, you'd begun to lose some of your enthusiasm when it came to parties like these.
You knew it had started back when your best friend went away years ago, as ever since, you'd only been losing more and more enjoyment when it came to your daily activities. The worst part was that you didn't even know when- or if- he would be coming back.
Still, as you finished off your glass of wine, you knew you needed to at least try to keep up appearances, despite what you were feeling on the inside. And that, of course, meant going around and mingling with your guests. You set the now-empty glass on a table near where you'd been sitting and then headed off towards the dance floor now, where crowds of people were gathered around.
A small sense of pride filled you at the sight of what they were wearing. Even without having been told to do so, everyone had come donning something originally made by you; the greatest designer in hell (though certain overlords would disagree with that title). Whether the clothes were from your lines years ago or the one that had just come out last month, they all wore outfits personally created by their own stylish overlord.
So at least, if nothing else, you had a well dressed group of people at your disposal.
"There they are!" People exclaimed now that you were up and mingling around, and the crowd quickly parted to allow you to pass them by. There were gasps and aww's as people called your name or waved in your direction. You just smiled back and tried to sport the high amount of power you possessed in the way you moved.
Truthfully, you had been doing the whole overlord thing for a while. You died back in the 1940's when swing dancing had been highly popular, and upon arriving in hell, had quickly swept the pentagram with your combined strength and charisma.
You supposed that was why it had now become your trademark, in addition to fashion. Of all the different types of dance that were out there, swing had always been your favorite, and you were extremely talented at it. As a result, everyone who came under your control would be as well.
"Lovely to see you," you grinned at various party guests, "Glad you could be here!" The first time you'd hosted one of these, you'd required the attendance of everyone in the Poise Sector. By now there was no such thing, and yet the entire sector always turned out for them.
You chatted lightly with some of the people you recognized best and introduced yourself once again to those you didn't; knowing there would be a few new souls at your disposal by the end of the night.
As you turned to the dance floor, though, the sight of it slightly disappointed you. There were people out there, of course; there always were when it came to your sector. But there were so few of them that the space held none of that fun, beautiful energy you'd come to love so much. As much as you didn't feel like dancing tonight, you knew something had to be done about this, and so you headed up to the slightly-raised stage at the end of the dance floor with a sigh.
"Excuse me!" You called to get everyone's attention once you were standing atop it. Instantly, the chatter died down and they all snapped their gazes in your direction. With a grin you placed your hands on your hips like a disappointed mother. "I thought I was clear this was a dancing kind of party!" You exclaimed, "So I'd better see some more bodies on that dance floor; dead or alive!"
Immediately, the space began to fill up as couples made their way onto the dance floor. You smiled at the sight and then stepped down from the stage. That was more like it.
You hated to see a dance floor without lively people on it, which was how you'd found out about your powers in hell in the first place. Upon getting to your first party and seeing no one else dancing, you'd immediately turned up the music and started doing so yourself, only to find that everyone else who heard it seemed to be swept up into your movements as well a moment later. And when you stopped, they'd done the same, as if somehow attached to you and your will. It hadn't taken long for you to realize you were the one making them sway and bop to the music, and of course, you'd been enjoying that ability ever since.
You'd even met your best friend that way; accidentally running into him at one of your nightly outings. At first, he'd been offended by your attempts at forcing him to dance alongside you, but after realizing how much appreciation you had for good music and dance society, the two of you had hit it off pretty quick. Plus, it hadn't hurt that you'd both been from similar time periods.
"Care to dance?" A voice spoke behind you now and you turned to see Joan standing there with her hand extended towards you. Once you recovered from the surprise, your smile widened even more.
"I'd be delighted, darling." You replied as you took her hand and let her lead you onto the dance floor. Things had gotten much livelier now; just the way you liked it.
You weren't even using your powers at the moment; after all, you generally didn't have to in order to get the people of the Swing Sector to do what you wanted. They knew what would happen if they disobeyed, and they respected you too much to do so in the first place.
Joan and your presence only brought the energy up higher; if that was possible. The sight of you dancing near them made people step up their game and if you continued letting things escalate, you knew you would soon have an impromptu dance contest on your hands. That was how it usually went at these parties, anyway, and back in the day, you and your old friend had won many of the little contests together.
But you forced yourself to push him out of your thoughts as you danced with Joan now. You couldn't keep dwelling on that loss; no matter how much it may have hurt you for him to disappear so suddenly and without warning.
Joan seemed to understand where your head was because she threw herself into the moves; twirling and dipping you like her life depended on it. Having danced with the cat demon plenty of times before, you easily kept up with her and even threw in a few of your own accent moves.
The two of you probably danced through about five songs together before you finally paused, letting you both catch your breath in the middle of the dance floor. Joan had a huge smile on her face though, and it proved to be contagious as your own widened through your heavy breathing. After a moment you regained your composure, though the feline was still tired from your first few dances.
You were about to suggest she take a break before continuing when you suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder. You raised an eyebrow, knowing none of the people in your sector were brave enough to touch you out of nowhere like that; even if you beloved, you were still an overlord.
Whoever it was must have given Joan a look because her eyes widened and she immediately nodded, stepping away from you and through the dance floor.
Ah, so whoever this was had decided to cut in.
You couldn't help feeling a little irritated at that knowledge. After all, you'd already been having a tough night and now as soon as you and Joan had started enjoying yourselves, it had been interrupted. You even considered telling this person off for it.
That was, until you looked up to see their face. If you'd been breathing heavily before, your breath had all but stopped now in realization.
Yellow teeth curved into a huge smile, red eyes, and a pair of small, all-too-familiar antlers sat atop his head. In that moment, you could have cried.
"...Al?" You breathed, seeing his smile widen.
"Pleasure to see you again my dear! It's been quite a while now, hasn't it?" He replied with a carefree tone. Even his voice, with that damned radio filter, sounded just like you remembered.
"Alastor!" You exclaimed so loudly that you were sure even Rosie over in Cannibal Town could hear you. Not waiting another moment, you pulled him into a hug so tight that it could have crushed a someone's bones, had the person in your embrace not been the Radio Demon himself. "It's you!" You couldn't hold back your joy and his smile widened even further, if that was possible, as he hugged you back.
"In the flesh, darling!" By now, the rest of the Swing Sector had gone back to dancing as if nothing had happened. Of course, they were as shocked as you to see Alastor back after seven years, but they knew better than to voice that surprise in the middle of your reunion. There would no doubt be gossip about the circumstances of his arrival and visit later, though.
"Where have you been?!" You demanded once you pulled away from his embrace. Of course, you knew him well enough to know he likely wouldn't give the answer to you straight; he liked hearing theories and speculations way too much for that.
"Oh you know, here and there!" Alastor replied vaguely before glancing around at the other sinners on the dance floor. He kept a smile on his face but glared at the ones currently looking your way, making them immediately turn back to minding their own business. "Now, care to have this dance with me, my dear?"
"Of course." You replied with a grin as you took the other demon's hand, glancing at the various dancing pairs around you. "In fact, I think you may have returned just in time for a dance contest." 
You could already see the competitive sparkle that grew in Alastor's eyes, having won many such competitions with you in the past. As much as you wanted to know where he'd been all this time, you supposed that would have to wait until after the two of you had defended your titles as the reigning swing dancing champions of the Swing Sector. 
"Then we'd better show these sinners how it's done!" The Radio Demon exclaimed with all the enthusiasm you'd come to expect from him. 
As you two danced, you could feel the party's mood begin to liven up. You couldn't get a smile off your face anymore than your best friend could, it seemed, and it had begun to spread to the souls under your control as they stepped up their own dancing game. 
"Now tell me, how have you been since I saw you last?" Alastor asked before twirling you around, "And don't leave out a detail, dear!" You chuckled, knowing there was so much to catch him up on. 
"I've managed," you replied sarcastically, "I have more souls under my command than the last time we met and Swing Sector has been coming along nicely. We even finally put in that diner Rosie and I have been talking about for years!"
"Wonderful!" Alastor exclaimed before glaring at a dancing couple that had gotten a little too close to encroaching on your shared space, "How glad I am to hear that worked out for you!"
"Me too," you admitted, "Some of her people staff the place, along with my own. That way, we have a wide variety of menu items. I bet you'd enjoy the food there!" At this, the deer-like demon nearly smirked. 
"Oh, I'm sure I would," he told you as the song you'd been dancing to ended and a new one began, "Speaking of Rosie, how has she been these past years?" 
"She's a lovely as ever," you said with a smile, "She usually attends over monthly parties but hasn't been able the last couple of times due to...circumstances." At that, Alastor's ears fell back as if he already knew whom it was you were referring to.
"I see..." He replied before regaining his composure and widening his smile again, "Well, I suppose now that I've returned the three of us will have to find a time to catch up again!" 
"Definitely!" You replied with a nod, "And then you can explain to the both of us why you've been gone all this time. I tell ya, we were starting to worry you'd gone and died!" You sent him a playful glare, "But of course I know the great Radio Demon couldn't be taken out so easily. Speaking of, have you let Rosie know you're back in town yet?" 
There was a brief pause in the conversation as he spun you again before you came back to face him. "Al...?" You questioned sternly. The deer demon, still smiling as brightly as ever, simply shrugged innocently (or as innocently as someone like him could). "Al!" You exclaimed now. You would have given his arm a light smack if you hadn't been in the middle of a dance. "I can't believe you just appeared after seven years and you haven't even thought to tell her you're back in town!" 
"I plan to inform her shortly," Alastor replied dismissively, "But make no mistake, darling, I've only returned today, and you're the very first person I came to!" That made your expression soften a bit. 
"Really?" You asked, only for him to nod in response. 
"Of course!" Before Alastor could go on, the song picked up and you knew it would be drawing to a close soon. He seemed to realize it too because he turned to you and you nodded in confirmation. From there, you both picked up the pace and gave it your all; showing off for all the new-in-town sinners who thought they had even a sliver of a chance at winning this competition. 
Leading the steps, Alastor seemed to have disregarded everyone else's places on the dance floor now as you two moved across it. Finally, the song started to come to a close and he timed one final spin perfectly so that he'd dipped you dramatically as it ended. 
There, you paused for a brief second before the entire dance floor erupted into applause. Smiling, you stood up straight and brushed yourself off, knowing you and the Radio Demon had once again won this competition. 
"Still got it, I see." You smiled towards the deer demon as the two of you took your bows. 
"Of course!" Alastor replied cheerfully, letting go of your hand now to adjust his coat. "How could I call myself your friend if I'd let my dancing skills diminish over the years?" You rolled your eyes but a smile was still evident on your face as you pulled him into a hug again. 
"I'm really glad you're back, Alastor." You said seriously now, taking note of how all the people around you suddenly seemed to find the ground and sky much more interesting than your display. Good; they knew better than to be nosey about their overlord's dealings and relationships. 
"As am I." Alastor replied before finally pulling back to look you in the eyes, "I must say, I've missed you a great deal all this time!" You chuckled now before turning to see Joan signaling to you that it was getting late and that she would be in your boutique nearby if you needed anything. With how much time you always spent in the place, it had become your home by now, and the whole second floor had been converted to a living area. Joan, being your closest supporter, always made sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed before leaving you for the night. 
"Come on," you told Alastor now, nodding towards the boutique. "We can have tea, and then maybe I'll consider designing you some new clothes. It's been seven years after all; don't you think it's time for a little update?" 
"I trust your judgement," Alastor replied as his smile widened. You headed for the boutique and he followed after you, taking in the sense of familiarity the place brought him. 
He'd been worried about your reaction to his sudden return, but as expected, you'd taken it as well as ever. Alastor knew he was more than lucky to have a best friend as understanding as yourself, even if he wasn't going to be getting out of telling you the truth eventually. But until then, he was glad just to be able to spend time with you and catch up.
It really was good to be back. 
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ovlxo · 4 months
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Affair - Modern Duff McKagan x Reader
Warnings: Minors DNI, 18+, SMUT
Disclaimer: I love Duff and Susan, this is 100% a work of fiction, fantasies are fantasies right?
POV: Your Axl Rose’s daughter, 21 year old, Y/N Rose. You’ve just got back to the hotel after a gig where Duff spent his breaks and subtle turns making eyes at you, it was something that had been brewing for a while between you both but Duffs’ wife, Susan had always been there and so neither of you had had the chance to act on this sexual tension…
“Okay, room keys; we’re all on the eighth floor, rooms are all double suites, hot-tubs in two of ‘em, fight amongst yourselves.” Your dad spoke with authority as he threw the keys on the table. 
“Dibs on the hot-tub, night guys.” Slash grabbed one of the gold-tipped keys and swooped Meegan up toward the elevators with a ‘whoop!’.
“Yeah, my legs are killin’ me from my ride this morning. Am I good to take the other one?” Duff made eyes with everybody, lingering a second too long on you. 
“That’s cool, Y/N, pick a key, doll. I’ll see you down here for breakfast in the morning?” Your dad smiled at you, wrapping one arm around your shoulders and kissing your hair.
“Yeah, Dad, okay, night.” You blushed at the embarrassment of your dad showing any affection in front of the whole band and picked up a key. 
“Night guys, great gig tonight!.” He spoke with a genuine smile toward the group and headed upstairs. 
The rest of the band trickled upstairs slowly, Duff was over by the payphone, jamming at the small metal buttons. Realising you weren’t ready to call it a night you headed over to the bar, eyes on Duff who spotted you out of the corner of his eye and watched you walk away. 
“Can I have a Cosmopolitan, please?” Smiling up at the bartender as you swivelled in your seat taking in all of the names on the bottles lined up.
“Hope you’ve got some ID, little lady.” Duff’s voice melted through your body as he spun you around to face him.
“Hey, what did that pay-phone do to deserve such a beating?” You giggled, kicking his leg with your heeled boot playfully. 
“Nothin’ works in hotels, man! Just means I’ll get it in the neck when I’m back home for not checking in.” Duff’s hand went to the back of his neck, as his eyes shot up and down your body, hoping you wouldn’t notice.
“Oh there’s no way I could deal with that, have a drink, talk to me…” You smiled, gently biting your lip as you looked down toward the top button of his pants.
“Okay, just one and then we’ll go to bed.” He winked and sat down on the stool next to you, ordering a whisky on the rocks. 
“Promises, promises. I do like the sound of that hot-tub.” You shot back quickly, sipping on your cosmo, and feeling a wave of pleasure rush up your spine. 
“I’m surprised you didn’t have one ear-marked, Daddy’s little princess.” He laughed, finding an excuse to bump your knees together and gently touch your arm.
“Fuck you! Would Daddy’s little princess be sipping drinks at the hotel bar and trying to bone his bassist?” Your stomach sank as you realised what you’d said, the cosmo helped you speak the whole truth apparently.
“I guess it’s expected when all that bassist has done for the last month is imagine her underneath him.” Duff’s hand ran from your knee to your inner-thigh, eyes not leaving your lips as you bit down in response to his gentle fingers.
“What would you say to making both of our little fantasies come true?” You placed a hand on his thigh, squeezing and making your way towards the growing bulge in his pants. 
“I’d say, how about we finish these drinks in my hot-tub?” His finger brushed right up against your now sodden lace panties. 
“Lead the way, McKagan.” You held out your hand and grabbed your cocktail, almost watching the scene out of body in disbelief. 
Duff led you to the elevators, both of you vigilant for any late-coming roadies. The elevator seemed to take forever to arrive as you both felt the niggle to rip each other's clothes off right there. 
Finally, you arrived at Duff’s suite which was nestled right in a corner away from any other doors and potential prying ears. As soon as the key turned the lock green, Duff grabbed hold of you and threw you over his shoulder, you let out a quiet shriek as the door closed and Duff carried you to the inner-balcony doors. Thankfully, the hot-tub was already bubbling away, you slid down Duff’s body and wrapped your legs around his waist, instantly consumed by his lips, your tongues entwined with each other, tasting the bitter whisky on his tongue only served to arouse you even more. 
He practically ripped the silk dress from you, happily greeted by your red-lace lingerie.
“I love this…” he moaned in your ear as he greedily grabbed at your breasts, pushing his now rock-hard member up against your inner thigh. 
Your hands gripped his hair as he sucked on your nipples, carrying you over to the tub, he gently placed you in the water, pulling your bra off as the bubbles caressed every inch of you. He quickly stripped, caressing himself as he slid under the jets with you. His hands were instantly on your body, grabbing your hips and pulling you toward him, squeezing your cheeks and exploring your mouth once more with his own. 
“Give it to me, Duffy.” You whispered, biting down his neck, to his tattooed shoulder. 
“Anythin’ you want, baby.” Duff pulled you into his lap as he sat on one of the perches, you quickly lost your panties as he replicated your actions and started nipping your neck.
Slowly sliding down on his generous length, your nails dug into his shoulders. Both of you moaning in sync at the sensation. 
“Fuck yeah…” he whispered, squeezing your hips and leaving a dark purple bruise on your collarbone before throwing his head back.
You bounced gently on his lap, feeling his balls slap against your ass as he met your thrusts. 
“Oh God… Duff… harder.” You gasped, taking him as deep as you could, the pain melting into pleasure as you bit down on his lower lip. 
“You like it rough, darlin’?” He smiled, pulling you down and increasing his thrusts to a bruising pace. 
“Holy… Fuck… Yes! Duff!” You cried, pulling him closer and feeling your release bubbling over. Water splashing around as Duff took full control and bounced you harder against him.
“Shit… I’m gonna cum… Ohhh… Y/N” Duff’s hand digging right into your hips, as he spilled inside, his hot seed filling you to the brim as you lost complete control, mumbling his name as your vision became spotty, his thrusts never ceasing as he rode you through your high. Fireworks burst in your head, you felt your whole body tighten around Duff, his warmth only relighting the fire inside you. 
Your head fell down against his shoulder as his rested on yours. His cock still firmly inside you as you both came down from your high.
“You’re somethin’ else, baby.” Duff smiled against your skin, stroking your thighs as sweat dripped down from his hair. 
“Now how about we finish those drinks?” You giggled against him, feeling his body completely relax into yours. 
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youryurigoddess · 2 days
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The Small Back Room — Hour of Glory (1949)
Good Omens 2 begins with the visit to The Small Back Room not because it was meant to serve as an exposition scene for Maggie and her record shop. It’s a substantial foreshadowing of the main plot and the relationship changes between Aziraphale and Crowley.
As all the other classics referenced throughout the show, this 1949 Powell and Pressburger production is easily available online — whenever you have 100 minutes to spare, I highly encourage you to watch it.
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Our story begins with the arrival of Stuart, a British military captain, who makes his way through a labyrinth of offices towards a small building — the research section led by an eccentric, queer-coded, bow tie wearing professor Mair — to ask for help with a secret Nazi weapon.
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That’s when the professor calls our hero, Sammy Rice — an engineer and bomb disposal expert in the service of Her Majesty’s government and, not accidentally, the most brooding, wounded man in Powell and Pressburger’s impressive canon of dysfunctional and alienated characters.
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Due to a prosthetic foot keeping him from active service and confining to work in the titular back room instead, Rice is dramatically slipping into alcoholism. Haunted by self-loathing and disappointment with the internal politics, he can’t see the point of his research anymore.
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Sammy is also conducting a clandestine affair with the secretary of his research unit, Susan. They live in the same building and meet regularly, but can’t openly enjoy their company or even dance due to his injury, which makes him even more bitter and pathologically determined to wear her angelic patience down.
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Susan puts up with it until the minister is forced to resign. She knows that if non-scientists take over, their section will become useless, Rice even more difficult, and the war possibly lost. She urges him to take action and when he dramatically refuses to make a difference, she leaves him.
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Seemingly at his lowest now, Rice becomes a sudden chance to redeem himself. Captain Stuart calls him about two unexploded booby traps found in Wales, but left to himself, he dies during a heroic attempt to dismantle one of the thermos-like devices before our engineer arrives at the scene.
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In a nerve-jangling finale, Stuart’s notes help Rice dismantle the second device. He becomes a hero, gets an officer commission as head of the new scientific unit, and discovers that Susan not only came back in the meantime, but repaired everything he drunkenly destroyed in the apartment after their breakup.
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The parallels seem straightforward enough for me to add that in this context the role of Maggie through most of S2 may particularly reflect Crowley’s stagnancy in both work and love life. And if you’re unsure why the demon identifies with the heroic roles and characters, you might want to read this post on the subject.
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Now, The Small Back Room was distributed in the US under another title — Hour of Glory. Which happens to be a specific Bible term referring to Christ’s “hour”, the period supposed to consummate all of his work on Earth and reveal God’s ultimate plan of salvation: the Son’s death.
John 12:20-36 Jesus replied, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. Anyone who loves their life will lose it, while anyone who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servant also will be. My Father will honor the one who serves me. Now my soul is troubled, and what shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour. Father, glorify your name.” Then a voice came from heaven, “I have glorified it, and will glorify it again.” The crowd that was there and heard it said it had thundered; others said an angel had spoken to him. Jesus said, “This voice was for your benefit, not mine. Now is the time for judgment on this world; now the prince of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.”
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Christ’s hour began in the garden — this time the garden of Gethsemane — as he prayed passionately for the cup to be passed from him, similarly to Aziraphale declining Metatron’s offers on screen, both regarding the hot drink and his reinstatement as part of the Heavenly Host:
Luke 22:42 “Father, if you are willing, please take this cup of suffering away from me. Yet I want your will to be done, not mine.”
All throughout the Old Testament, we see God’s wrath being described as a cup poured out on sin and those guilty of it. By accepting it, Jesus took the toll of all the sins — from Eden up until the last one to be committed right before his Second Coming — on himself, for the sake of his beloved humanity.
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The passion of Christ continued as Judas betrayed him with a kiss, his disciples abandoned him, and the high priest accused him of crimes he was not guilty of. Even Pilate, the prefect of Rome, pretended to uphold the law; and remember we already expect a S3 trial based on another Archers movie.
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All in all, it’s an hour of great injustice and pain, but also glory of God. We’re led to believe that the Ineffable Plan will similarly triumph over the great one (or whatever Metatron tries to implement at the moment), as it did in S1. And its ending will be a good one, back in a garden.
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