#like I'd point out something in the thing we were looking at and they'd go 'oh wow good observation!!' as if we weren't the same age

[mntcoronet]

*pause moment* hey why the fuck did I just realise that during high school, I felt like a fair number of my peers (from outside my friends group) treated me somewhat more "softly" or like a child than they would've done with other people. and why was that

#maggles ramblings #like idk if they were actually doing that or if that's just what i Felt was happening #but. when they'd have to talk to me for things; like short 'do this in pairs' stuff; i def felt like they treated me differently #like I'd point out something in the thing we were looking at and they'd go 'oh wow good observation!!' as if we weren't the same age #maybe they just acted differently cos they didn't wanna be doing it. which like sure. but man u could at least try to discuss the topic #or did i seem like too much of a shy little creature that only just learned human speech that they forgot i was competent enough to get A's #but hhh man idk. i never know how people perceive me that's the real issue here #i can sorta make estimations based on how they talk to me; i can tell well enough if someone just doesn't wanna keep talking to me #but that doesn't mean i can figure out WHY. but i do know that sometimes it feels like.. they pick up on something about me #like i can roughly tell whether the person talking to me still considers me Just A Normal Guy or if they've realised like 'hey... #this person doesn't quite Get It with regards to social/conversation stuff'. bc of the way they talk. but i still never know why!! #like sure every time i go have conversations with new people i feel like I'm just pretending to be A Normal Person yknow #and when other people who seem very socially competent Keep talking to me i just think oh wow you haven't figured it out yet that's wild #figured what out? idk that I'm just pretending i guess. about what? uh good question just pretending in general #pretending like i know what to say; that it feels completely Natural to talk like that; like I'm not mentally rating each of my actions #but then sometimes there's people i just feel like i don't have to do that around nearly as much. i swear i gravitate towards those ppl #but yeah it's just. it def feels like they know I'm Not Getting something when i talk to a lot of people. like they Know i missed a memo #and i don't even know what the memo is about; or whether I've gotten any of the previous memos or just absorbed the knowledge #by observing things. ya #ok im done with that train of thought i need to go and work on that au i accidentally stayed up till 2am last night thinking of ideas for

[thatdiabolicalfeminist]

A lot of people will be spending more time with their families of origin in the next few weeks.

And when you're with people you've spent so much time around in the past, it can be easy to fall into old habits and social role dynamics without really noticing, and without evaluating whether those patterns are reflective of the values we have now.

So with that in mind, I'd like to gently suggest taking a closer look at your family's interactions and see whether there are patterns you're part of that you don't want to be and could potentially do something to disrupt.

For example, is there anyone:

your family routinely treats as faintly ridiculous or hysterical?

or whose ideas, opinions, or interests are automatically dismissed by the group when those same things would be worthy of consideration/discussion from someone else?

or who gets teased and made fun of more than others, or past the point where they seem to be having fun?

or who is expected to do a disproportionately large amount of work that others could be helping with?

or who is consistently left out of group activities and is not asked if they'd like to join this time? (Do they think you'd be happy if they did join in?)

or who is automatically treated like "the problem" in any conflict they're in, regardless of whether they initiated the conflict or were being reasonable or not?

or who makes/has made repeated requests that some reasonable boundary be respected that is habitually ignored, belittled, or argued with?

or who habitually speaks or acts in unkind or unloving ways and gets minimal pushback, and/or minimal concern for the targets of their unkindness, because "that's just how they are"?

Or is there maybe:

a gender, racial, and/or class/income, etc., divide in who in your family does how much cooking/cleaning/kinship work?

a difference in who leads dinnertable conversations and whose input, interests, opinions, etc., are more valued/respected?

a difference in whose job or home life is worthy of being asked about?

automatic assumptions about people's interests, skills, life experiences, etc., that haven't been updated in years? Is anyone trying to build connections and find out more about who each of you are now?

Group social dynamics are always complicated, and perhaps never more so than in families. I'm not in your family, and I don't know the complicated contexts between each of the members. I also don't know how you'd like your family interactions to go, or if you're even spending time together willingly or unwillingly. Maybe this post will be helpful to you, maybe not.

But if you want your family to interact in more loving ways, sometimes as adults or even teenagers there ARE things we can do to interrupt patterns people are participating in without even noticing!

We can start helping with work we're not expected to participate in, and we can ask others who don't participate to take on part of the task. (In many families, a man standing up and starting to clear away the dishes and saying, "Brian, would you mind grabbing the green beans and the mac and cheese?" would be out of the ordinary if the women usually do that, but (in many families) people would go along with it once suggested.)

We can try to bring neglected others into conversation by asking and genuinely listening to their thoughts and opinions.

We can speak up when someone's interrupted and insist that we want to hear the rest of their thought.

We can take seriously the person treated like a joke, and show others that we're taking them seriously.

We can say "I don't think we need to discuss people's bodies here" or "not cool, dude" and redirect the conversation when someone is unkind.

Sometimes we can take people aside and ask them to ease up on a person being teased. Sometimes saying "I think it's actually hurting their feelings" or "it's not funny anymore, let up" is enough to actually make a difference.

We can ask about someone's job, interests, home life, hobbies etc., when they are usually left out of being asked.

We can try to remember that people aren't fixed in stone, and try to get to know who people are now without making too many assumptions.

Sometimes harmful patterns can be interrupted just by pointing them out and making an effort to not participate in them anymore.

#how to be a good friend #family #how to not be an asshole #how to help #thatdiabolicalfeminist #long post

[wordsinhaled]

the thing about crowley’s confession is… he must have thought about it in the bit of time he had before doing it. i mean... he went and sat outside marguerite’s with his wine, and thought. he thought very hard about how there was a threat—a sleeper—a ticking time bomb in aziraphale’s bookshop that could explode at any moment, take away all their hard-won peace, their safety, their comfort.

but most importantly, a threat to aziraphale. gabriel had tried once to destroy aziraphale already, and only hadn’t because they'd swapped bodies. and crowley's clearly terrified that this time, what they're doing feels reckless, feels like playing with something far too important at stake. it's like... already knowing someone is so important to you—and then having the possibility that it could really be something dangled in front of you—and then knowing there's an existential threat to that potential? awful. horrifying. no wonder he can't find the words.

we know crowley is a romantic. we know how much joy it brings him to see other people fall in love. and... honestly... i'm not sure it’s that nina needed to spell the nature of his feelings out for him, exactly. crowley's known where he stands towards aziraphale for a long time if we're to judge him by his acts (which are always acts of service, care, and attention, which always speak louder than his words). so i don't think it was that, as much as just—the experience of being perceived by someone else, sort of jostling something for him.

because crowley's watched the romance films, hasn't he, he knows the exact tropes he's working with, but the idea that they could apply to him—to him and aziraphale? i don't think he considered that until it was offered to him as an option. and once it was, there was crowley's mind far exceeding the speed limit trying to wrap itself around all of this.

and so he must have looked at it, and all signs, all signs, were pointing to aziraphale being receptive.

crowley probably thought about all the times aziraphale had touched him in the last day alone. all the little glances and looks aziraphale had been giving him, which crowley surely hadn’t missed because he’s always staring right back. he probably thought about how aziraphale thinks the bentley is their car and the bookshop is their shop, about how aziraphale told him that he thought they’d carved a peaceful existence out for themselves. and after the ball, he probably thought about how aziraphale asked him to dance, at this event that was meant to get other people to fall in love, but aziraphale had wanted to dance with him.

so crowley most likely looked at all of this and thought he’s finally ready. he’s finally caught up. when i ask this time, he’s going to say yes. and he watched aziraphale so warily, too, after the realization, because there's a way that it feels, to be holding on to a truth so direly important and so terribly exciting and so very requited, as far as crowley can tell. it's like, am i holding myself differently now? can he tell? has he always been able to tell? am i about to muck it up? i'm about to muck it up. i muck everything up, but not this. not this. he's the center of my universe so it's worth it. and it's alright, even if i muck it up, because he's going to say yes. dear god: i'd only ask if it was important.

and so he queued up their song in the bentley and he talked to muriel like they’re a them, like they’re going to be a couple, a couple who needs us time. he gave himself the luxury of imagining it, of planning it all out in his mind—how everyone was going to finally leave off pulling them toward some greater purpose and just let the two of them be together, and aziraphale was going to at last let crowley be to him what he’s always wanted to be—what he’s been being already, evidently, to the point where strangers on the street ask how long they’ve been together.

and then in the end, to be rejected like that. to be rejected even while the love is pouring off aziraphale in anguished waves—and if he loves me too, then why won't he say yes? to be rejected and to know this isn't how it's supposed to go, even though it's the way it's always gone. crowley always asks and aziraphale always says no. somehow, this time was supposed to be different. he'd dared to hope properly. and how had he misjudged it so terribly this time? how much of it had been wishful thinking? and he had to have felt aziraphale's hands grasping at his shoulders, had to have felt the start of a kiss returned, and thought that maybe there was a spark of hope yet.

but there wasn't.

because nothing lasts forever. apparently.

#aughhhhhh #good omens #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #aziracrow

[wasawattpadkid]

Drunk Antics

Summary: When Billy and Stu have a little too much to drink they come to you.

Pairing: poly!ghostface (college au) x fem!reader

Warnings: Nothing really just fluff and angst. Drunk Billy and Stu

The pounding on your dorm door was bound to wake up everyone in a 5 mile radius. "What the hell-" Billy and Stu hit the floor in a heap of giggles. "Told you she was home fuckrag." A tiny hiccup could be heard coming from Stu. "How did you two even get in here?" You questioned helping the men up. "A magician never tells his secrets Y/n." Stu's words were slurred and his legs were shaky. You closed the door telling them both to sit down. Thankfully Stu listened falling back on your roommates bed. "I'm gonna be sick..." Stu groaned.

"No no no, no you're not." You grabbed a trash can running to his aid. "I'm kidding!" He giggled his hiccups getting worse. Billy tossed his hair back dancing around the room. "I was thinking of you tonight..." Stu said dragging his hand down the middle of your shirt. You laughed dryly. "Oh yeah I bet you were. You know you smell like perfume Stu." You weren't pissed just disappointed. "We robbed a perfume store." Billy laughed at his partners answer.

"Dance with me Y/n." Billy tugged at your clothes trying to pull you to him. "Babe you reek of Jack Daniels." Billy's lips made contact with your neck biting and sucking the skin he found. "Oh no, not tonight. You are both way too drunk." You pushed him back just enough to see his splotchy red face. The tip of his nose bright red making him look like Rudolph. "I didn't have near as much as he did." He pointed to the unconscious man on the bed. "Fuck." You left Billy standing to roll Stu on his side just in case.

"He'll be fine. I didn't drug him this time." You whipped your head towards your boyfriend. "What!?" You whisper yelled and he just laughed. "Kidding! If making a joke is a crime arrest me." He held out his hands connected by the wrist. "As much as I'd love to see you in handcuffs not tonight Billy, I said no." He rolled his eyes stomping his foot like a toddler. "Jesus how much did you drink tonight?"

You helped him out of his leather jacket flinging it to the side of the room. "Slow down there my girlfriend kills people." He slurred and you laughed. His knuckles were slightly bloody which is something you'd definitely have to bring up tomorrow. "We need to get you into bed." He rubbed his hands together once again thinking he was about to get lucky. He sat down on the bed letting you pull off his shoes. The next thing to go was his shirt. "You're very beautiful at this angle." When he was drunk his charm was on high. "Thanks." You didn't even bother with his jeans. "Now lay back."

Billy did as told waiting for you to climb in with him. "Where you going?" He asked his pout could be heard in his voice. "I'm checking on Stu." You sighed hating being a babysitter. "And I don't want the world to see me!" Billy loudly began singing making you jump. "Cause I don't think that they'd understand." He was your drama queen. "With everything meant to be broken." You were 100% sure those weren't the lyrics. He mumbled the next line tears now forming in his eyes. "Babe don't.. aww." He held out his arms like a toddler pulling you on top of him.

Your head laid on top of his chest as his arms squeezed you. "Promise you won't leave us." He whispered. The sound of his voice broke your heart. "Where is this coming from?" A whimper left his throat. "Just promise." You sighed. "I promise Billy." With that his heart rate slowed and he began to fall asleep. Thank God your roommate went home for the weekend.

"Y/n?" Stu whispered from the other bed. You closed your eyes preparing for more antics. "Yes babe?" Silence. "Yes babe?" You repeated. Nothing. "Stu!" You whispered gaining his attention. "Hmm?" He mumbled. "What'd you want?" You asked ready to help him to the bathroom or trash can. "I don't know you called me." You took a moment before you laughed with pity. "Your head is going to kill you tomorrow."

"If it doesn't you will." He muttered falling back asleep. "Damn straight." You smiled as you cuddled up with Billy.

#scream #scream x reader #scream fanfiction #scream fanfic #scream 1996 #poly!ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis #billy Loomis ghostface #stu macher x reader #stu macher #stu ghostface #ghostface x female reader #scream oneshot #fanfiction

[sinsmockingbird]

Aight, dis the (F!)MC family with (Yandere!)Yukong request (more like a ramble I guess which you can feel free to adapt to a request/fic as you want) :3

What do you think their children would look like? They'd probably have floofy hairs/tails like Yukong (Foxian/Kitsune genetics I've always thought are probs very strong), and they'd probably grow up very spoiled, by Qingni, who'd I'd imagine would be a great older sister, and by the Astral Express whenever they visit.

I can't help but feel like there'd be some friction there between Yukong and the crew, since the crew might feel something is off about Yukong being overly protective, alongside with Stelle's sudden decision to stay on the Luofu, and Yukong is afraid they might try to take Stelle with them.

I also wonder how Qingni would react to the whole situation in the first place. While she'd probably be very happy to see her mother happy, and to have younger siblings, she might also find Stelle's sudden decision to stay a bit weird (not that'd she'd comment on it).

If Stelle and Qingni grow close during Stelle's stay on the Luofu, I could totally see Yukong using that to further try to convince Stelle to stay, pointing out how they make such a lovely family the three of them together. Something along the lines of, It'd be a shame to throw it all away to go explore, and maybe never get to come back to see them. Who knows, maybe we could give Qingni some younger siblings? She did always want some as a child. Surely it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if you somehow ended up pregnant, right?

Sorry for the mess of ideas that this was oeidfvgjherhfgu I had a lot of thoughts after the fic that you made (which I may or may not have read lots of times already). Please feel free to only adapt parts of it/segment it, I can always send other requests in the future with the other sections if they don't mesh well together/get too long if you don't mind.

"PROTECTING" PT.2 | Yukong

PAIRING: Yukong x Afab!Reader

WARNINGS: Fluff, SFW, Slight NSFW, Yandere!Yukong, Manipulation, Alludes to smut & breeding.

AUTHORS NOTE: I love these little rambles and ideas. I tried to include as many of these as possible, and I'd love to hear any more ideas you have!

WHEN YOUR daughter was first born, she was a perfect mix of you and Yukong, with a fluffy tail and ears being the prominent foxian genes in her. She was immediately spoiled and loved by not only you two but the Astral Express as well. She was quickly welcomed into the family, dotted on by someone almost 24/7.

Welt was quickly deemed her Godfather, and was seen as her grandpa considering the fatherly relationship he had with you. Himeko was her Godmother, and she honestly almost cried when you asked her if she'd like to.

Dan Heng was surprisingly protective over her, despite not really knowing... how to treat her, yet he wouldn't dare let someone harm her, like a protective older brother. March 7th was, as expected, absolutely in love with her, declaring her the cool aunt who buys her so much toys, stuffies, clothes- you name it, March will get it.

Qingni was... interesting. She absolutely loved her little sister when she was born, always quick to care and play with her when she got the chance. She'd do anything for her, spoiling her with all sorts of things just like March.

Yet, despite being happy to have a little sister, Qingni couldn't help the weird feeling she had in her chest. Your sudden decision to stay on the Luofu was certainly... sudden, to say the least, and especially how quickly your relationship with her mother grew. While she was happy for Yukong to have found someone to love, she just found it all weird, but she didn't comment on anything, rather just enjoying the fact she has a younger sibling.

Plus, Qingni found herself getting close to you as well. She was really beginning to see you as another mother, despite not calling you mom yet. Which you didn't mind, you were simply happy to have a good relationship with her.

"You and Qingni seem to be getting along fine." Yukong mused as she moved to hug you from behind, nuzzling her face into your neck.

You laugh softly at her affectionate actions, watching as Qingni entertained her baby sister. "I'd like to think so."

"Trust me, she likes you." Yukong reassured, pressing a gentle kiss against your temple before laying her head on your shoulder. "We make quite a lovely family, don't we? Us four."

You thought for a moment, watching as Qingni stopped her sister from chewing on her tail. "Yeah... yeah we do."

Yukong lifted her head, eyeing you for a moment, seeing the way your eyebrows were furrowed together, sensing that something wasn't right. "Is there something wrong, my love?"

"Hm?" You look at her, before quickly shaking your head, then pausing as you thought for a moment. "Nothings wrong, perse... sorry, I'm just having thoughts about missing the Astral Express."

That made worry strike Yukong like a strike of lightning hitting a tree. It wasn't uncommon for you to find yourself having thoughts of the Astral Express crew as well as missing that adventure with them. It scared the old foxian like no other, because she's tried everything to get you to stay here on the Xianzhou with her.

Her ears pulled back against her head, tail swishing back and forth more behind her. She held a hard look on her face when you looked back to gaze at your daughter and Qingni, and Yukong realized what she had to do again to ensure you would stay here with her.

You let out a sudden gasp as you felt Yukong press her front flush against your back, pressing you against the counter you were both standing behind. You quickly gripped the edge of it, eyes widening and face flushing as you felt her press her face into your neck, inhaling your scent while kissing and nipping at your skin.

"Y-Yukong, the girls!" You quickly whispered it with panic, eyes wide as you watched your guys daughters, praying they didn't look over to see one of their mothers pressed so intimately against the other.

"We're fine, they're too distracted by one another," Yukong reassured, her voice low and sultry as she kissed your neck more.

You whimpered softly, before biting your lip to hold back your sounds, not wanting to alert Qingni. You bowed your head slightly, breathing heavy as you felt Yukong grinding her hips against you from behind, letting you feel her growing bulge under her clothes. Her sudden need for you caught you off guard, but you definitely weren't complaining.

"My love, let's go to our room. The girls will be alright by themselves for an hour or so," Yukong murmured, moving to suck on your ear lobe, nibbling on it and making your face flush more.

"J-Just an hour..?" You ask, tilting your head slightly back towards her.

"Just an hour," Yukong repeated, but she had other plans. She was going to keep you locked in your room for however long she wanted, thoroughly breeding you again.

Because there's no way you'd leave the Xianzhou, leave her, if you have a second, maybe third or forth child, right? You wouldn't dare do that to her.

She was going to make sure you'd never leaver.

ENDING NOTES: Sorry this is short! I wanted to keep this part mostly SFW. But I'll maybe do a part 3 if it's asked for.

#*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟsins writings #honkai star rail #honkai fluff #yukong #hsr!yukong #dom!yukong #yukong x you #yukong x reader

[george-weasleys-girl]

Begin Again - Pt.1

Season of Love Event

Friends to Lovers to Friends to Lovers Again

*I didn't intend on this turning out as long as it did, but here we are. I'm not certain when the next part will be out. I'd like to say it'll be before the end of the week, but it'll more likely be a couple of weeks. Or possibly in March.

George Weasley x fem!reader

Summary: Six years after the war, a familiar face shows up on Diagon Alley

Warnings: mention of underage sex

~•~

Y/N sank back into the oversized, velvety chair. It'd been a long time since she had traversed the cobblestones of Diagon Alley. Not since before the second Wizarding War.

So much had changed. The little coffee shop she sat in used to be... what was it? A shoe shop? She couldn't quite remember. Well, whatever it had been, it certainly wasn't this cozy little place. She sighed and glanced out the window, her eyes drifting back over to the now world-famous joke shop, debating for the umpteenth time since she set foot back in London two days ago, whether or not to pay a visit.

"Here you go, ma'am," the server's voice broke through her ruminations.

Y/N turned and smiled, happy to see that her order of a double shot of espresso and a giant cinnamon roll had arrived. It wasn't the healthiest of breakfasts, she had to admit, but she needed something to jolt her awake.

"Anything else I can get you?" The server asked, eyeballing the stack of muggle tabloids with a mixture of curiosity and disdain.

"Nothing at the moment, thank you," Y/N smiled, ignoring the way he looked down his nose at her. Let him think whatever he wants. She was long past the point of caring what other people thought of her. She had far more important things to occupy her mind.

Like this absolutely divine cup of espresso sitting before her.

She enhaled the heavenly aroma before taking a sip. "Mmm, caffeine, my friend," she mumbled, smirking at her own silliness.

The coffee hit her veins almost immediately. Y/N pulled the Weekly World News from the top of her pile and dug into her morning routine. She scanned the pages, snorting at a couple of the more ridiculous stories. She knew, just as much as any rational person (magical or not), that only the very gullible believed this nonsense.

Except... as she'd come to learn long ago, it wasn't all nonsense. In amongst all the batboys and alien love slaves there was hidden a sliver of truth. And if you knew what you were looking for, you'd find it.

~•~

George shuffled into the coffee shop. He hadn't had a decent night's rest in weeks. April 1 had only just passed, and May was barreling toward him like a rogue bludger. As it did every year since the war.

"Morning, Mr. Weasley."

The redhead pasted on a smile. "How are ya, Albert?" He greeted the barista.

"Oh, fine, fine," Albert grinned. "What'll you have?"

"The usual," George leaned over to look at the pastries. "And a cherry danish."

The barista nodded. "Comin' right up."

"Thanks," the redhead sighed. He didn't particularly like cherry danishes, but Fred loved them. Every year he was gone, his lost twin seemed to drift further and further away from him. George hoped the pastry, as small a thing as it was, would bring a little of Fred back to him.

He turned around to take in the busy cafe, debating whether to eat here or take his meager breakfast back to the shop when he spotted a familiar face. George's heart skipped a beat. Could it be? After all this time? It was a face that once lit up his life, that he once loved to kiss, that he once sought out in every crowd.

And, admittedly, still did.

Y/N Y/L/N. Beautiful, funny, intelligent, and, once upon a time, his.

She was his first everything.

First best friend outside of Fred.

First crush.

First girlfriend.

First kiss.

And after the Yule Ball, his first lover.

He'd intended to propose to her once they'd graduated, but something happened in their seventh year. Maybe it was because of all the stress from everything that was happening then, or maybe they were just too immature, but they started drifting apart. Arguing more. Lots more. They soon realized that they were fighting more than not and decided to take a break and try going back to being friends.

And they did try. But everyone knows how those things go. By the time he and Fred made their dramatic exit from Hogwarts, they were barely speaking.

Not because they were angry. They just didn't know what to say to each other anymore. Everything had become weird.

After that, she visited the shop a few times. The last he saw her, she'd stopped by the store to say goodbye. She'd taken a new job and was moving to Italy.

He'd wished her well, kissed her cheek, and then she was gone.

"Here ya go, Mr. Weasley," Albert's cheerful voice shook George from his reverie. "That'll be three galleons even."

George paid and then made his way to her table. "Y/N?"

Y/N looked up, and the smile that spread across her face lit up the whole room. She saw the boy she once loved in the man standing before her. A boy she once thought she might've eventually married.

Her pulse quickened in spite of herself. "George!"

The years suddenly fell away, and without thinking, she stood to embrace him. He met her halfway, his long arms wrapping around her, pulling her in close.

~•~

"Believe it or not, I use them for work." She admitted when George asked about the stack of tabloids. "And, they're good for a few laughs."

George eyed the stack. "Looks like you need a lot of laughs."

Y/N shrugged. "Life hasn't always been kind."

"I know what you mean," George looked down. "My brother, my twin, Fred, you remember him? He, um, he ...

Six years on, and he still couldn't say the words.

She reached out and touched his hand. "I know. I-I heard. I'm so sorry, George." Y/N said. "I wanted to write, but I... " Words failed her.

"It's alright," he gave her a sad smile. "It's not like I was in any shape to read letters. Truthfully, I wasn't in shape to do much of anything for a while."

Y/N squeezed his hand. She didn't have any siblings, much less a twin. So, she could only imagine the pain he must've endured. "All the same, I should've..."

"No, love, please," he interrupted, taking her hand in both of his. "Don't torture yourself with 'should'ves.' Godric knows I've done enough of that these past few years. And it won't change the past. It only makes things... hurt more." George looked away for a few moments. When he turned back, his smile had returned. "So tell me about this job that requires you to read this crazy stuff." George nodded toward the tabloids.

~•~

"So, your telling me there are other worlds?" George looked incredulous. "And things sometimes travel here through holes in the... membrane between the worlds?"

Y/N nodded.

"And these tabloids occasionally report it."

"Surprisingly often, actually," Y/N grinned.

George opened his mouth, then closed it again. "What's your job in all this?" He said after a few moments. "Do you hunt down whatever comes through?"

"Oh, no," Y/N took a nibble from her cinnamon roll. "I'm a seamstress."

"A seamstress?" George was about to take a sip of coffee but froze at her words.

"I mend the holes," she clarified. "Sew them back together. With magic, of course."

George stared at her for several seconds before speaking again.

"So... um..." he began, still trying to wrap his brain around the whole concept. "Do these holes just appear randomly or what?"

Y/N took a deep breath. "Ok, so... there are three types of openings between the worlds. Holes, gateways, and rips. Holes are where reality got too thin, and things wander through, usually unintentionally. The second are gateways. A hole formed, and instead of repairing it, structures were built to allow easier passage and communication. These are heavily guarded and highly regulated." She paused to take a sip of her espresso. "And then there are rips," she continued. "This is when something decides it wants to get through right now. Damn the rules."

"Wow..." George leaned back in his chair. "What happens when something rips through?"

"There are people whose job is to, well, put things back where they belong."

George nodded, thoughtful. Then something occurred to him. "Why haven't I heard about this before?"

"Used to be top-secret," she shrugged. "Only the highest echelons of the government knew. But then a rip opened in the US president's oval office. No one was there at the time, thank Godric. But, long story short, word of our organization leaked, and then, after a fair bit of chaos, a bunch of stuff got declassified. Now here I am telling you about it."

"Oh, that's good then, you know, that things worked out, and you're, you know, here," George stammered. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too," Y/N smiled, reaching for his hand again.

"So, um, how long are you back for?" George asked.

"Permanently."

George's face lit up. "Really?"

"Yep," Y/N smiled wide, matching his enthusiasm. "They're expanding the London headquarters. I'll be retiring from the field next month to head the new training program."

"That's fantastic!" George was practically bouncing in his seat. "I guess we'll be seeing more of each other then?"

"I certainly hope so."

~•~

That night, George poured himself a shot of whiskey as he always did after work. But rather than settling down for the night, he paced the apartment, trying to rid himself of his restless energy.

He'd been bouncing around the store all day like a giddy schoolgirl. It was a far cry from his usual fake smiles and general mopiness this time of year, and, of course, Ron noticed.

He finally cornered his older brother during the afternoon lull. "Mate, are you alright? You've been acting... odd." Ron looked genuinely worried.

George bristled at the question at first, but then he remembered the date.

Oh.

The reminder deflated him a little. "Yeah. Surprisingly, I am okay. I-I ran into Y/N at breakfast."

Ron blinked. Of all the things his brother might've said, that was the last thing he expected. "Y/N? Y/N Y/L/N?"

"The one and only."

"Ok, wow," Ron mused. "Haven't seen her in forever. How long's it been?"

"Too long," George said, walking back to the sales floor.

Ron eyed him warily. He'd lost count as to how many ill-fated whirlwind romances his brother had had since Fred's passing. He hoped this wouldn't lead to another one. "So, um, how is she?"

"She's great," George said. "Moving back to London, actually."

"Oh, yeah? So, I take it you guys are meeting up again?" Ron probed.

"Of course. We're meeting up in a couple of days to go apartment hunting."

Ron screeched to a halt. "You're WHAT?!"

George stopped, eyebrows scrunched together. "Apartment hunting... she's just moved back and needs a place to live. I know the area better than her and thought I'd help her out. W-was that wrong?" He finished, suddenly uncertain of himself.

His younger brother's shoulders relaxed. "No, no. Not at all. I just thought for a second you two were... you know... moving in together."

"What? No, it's nothing like that. Yet," George said, keeping the last bit silent.

"Well, that's good," Ron replied, relief evident in his voice. "Just... take it slow, ok? Get to know each other again before you jump into anything."

George only nodded.

~•~

A disgruntled rumble from his stomach alerted George that he hadn't eaten since lunch. He glanced out the window to the warm glow emanating from The Leaky Cauldron. Dinner out, he decided and grabbed his coat. Maybe a walk would do him good. And he could chat with the bartender while he ate.

George had never gotten used to being alone. Not for very long anyway. It was why he jumped from one woman to the next. Anything to keep his loneliness at bay.

Most of them were friends with benefits, though there was the occasional girlfriend here and there. But in the end, he ended up feeling lonelier with them than without. And so he'd move on to the next one, endlessly searching for that deep, soulful connection.

Like he'd had with Fred.

Like he'd had with Y/N.

George froze mid-step, a thought suddenly occurring to him. Maybe the reason he'd never had a successful relationship was because somewhere in the dark crevices of his heart, he was still holding out for the one he'd never stopped loving.

He was holding out for Y/N.

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @xmjthewitchx @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @samberriejams @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @mrsgweasley @hufflepuffie @morally-grey-obsessed @fredweasleyyyyy @anvaaryn @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @hmisa11 @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1Lellykins @junerprsh @wolfkill16 @kaysau2510 @qmylovexoxo @planetkt @costheticbabe

@smallsweetvanillabean @hanne-montana @greenapplegrass @el-de-phi @lizzytrees @spididerman @yoursarahg @marvelgirlstories @theimpossible-girl-whowaited @ceehance @Havenater1920 @jelloangela @charmedfandomgal @loca4moony @whotfskai @netflix-addict

@moonatician @lunacurlclaw @sierraluvzz @min-aaa @now-that-we-dontalk @lillisummers @lovesanimals0000

#george weasley #season of love event #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you

[wittlesissyb4by]

"What's the matter?" Stephanie asked, coming back upstairs. "Everyone's here, it's time for brunch. Why are you taking so long to get out of bed?"

Oh shit. I forgot people were coming over today. I slept in, but that wasn't why I was taking a while to get up. Right as I slipped from dream space and back into reality, my brain eventually woke up enough to realize something was wrong.

Stephanie read my face almost instantly. "It happened again, didn't it?" she sighed. Giving me that accusatory, exasperated look.

I clutched the sheets to my shoulders. But that was way too obvious. I shouldn't have done that.

She ripped the blankets down, tearing them from my grip.

"Well..." she said, sighing and somewhat smiling to herself, almost as if she expected this.

I tried to turn away, to hide my stained undies, but there was no hiding the little puddle soaked into the sheets.

"Another wet dream?!" She exclaimed incredulously.

It was my 3rd one this week. They'd been happening more and more lately. It wasn't too much of an inconvenience. It was just extremely embarrassing, and Stephanie liked to press the issue.

"You really can't control yourself, can you??"

"It's not my fault!" I whined, trying to salvage some dignity in my soaked, sticky boxers. "You've had me locked up for weeks! And your teasing isn't helpin--"

"Oh don't try to blame this on me!" She scoffed, smirking, "You wanted this. You wanted to do this whole 'chastity play' thing. You told me not to let you out no matter how much you beg. I'm just going by what you said..."

I scrunched up my face. She was right. I hated that she was right. This was literally what I asked for, but it sounded way more fun in my head...

But I also didn't think she would take to it so quickly. She really seemed to enjoy teasing me. Giving me little tickles in the crotch as I walked by. Whispering seductive, dirty things in my ear while we were out at dinner. Even taking the cage off every now and then to edge me several times before putting ice cubes to it so she could stuff it back in. It was torture, she knew it, and she loved it.

"Besides..." she continued, "why would I need to unlock you when you're getting plenty of release into the sheets?

I pouted at that, but there wasn't much I could retort with.

"Well..." she sighed, pulling her hair hair up to tie it back. "I think you know what this means..."

It could mean any number of things. When the hair went up, it was her entering 'dominant' mode.

"You're gonna have to go back in diapers."

My stomach plummeted. Diapers?? Not those again...

"I'm sorry," she said, reading my face, not sounding sorry at all, "but this is not the first time you've been having accidents in bed. Remember what happened after New Year's?"

I remember. Of course I remember. She wouldn't let me forget it. I got a little too drunk to the point that I was incoherent enough to miss the entire countdown. The next day, I woke up to wet sheets. She was furious, not just about the piss-stained linens, but the fact that I neglected her almost the whole night.

For the rest of that week, I had to spend the night in a big pair of fluffy adult diapers. I didn't know they made them that big, or that childish.

"Honey please..." I begged, "Don't you think this is a little excessive...?"

"Absolutely not." She said firmly. "Until you can learn to control yourself better, I don't see any reason why you shouldn't have to wear diapers all day in case you have another 'accident'!"

I winced at the words. "All day??"

"Yes." She said, "As in 'daylight'. Night time too. I'd much rather wake up to your wet diaper than to wet sheets."

My mind was reeling, but apparently the matter was decided because she headed to the closet. Her ponytail swished back and forth as she dug through. Finally, she found what she was looking for. She held the ridiculous white, crinkly diaper up with a huge smile.

"It's diapy time!!" she cooed.

"But Steph!" I whined as she yanked my sticky boxers down, and lifted my legs up by the ankles so she could slide the diaper underneath.

"You just said everyone is downstairs!!"

"Mhmm.." she said, pulling the diaper up over my cage. "What's your point?" she asked, taping up each side.

"They're...they're..."

"I'll let you wear pants." She said, reading my thoughts. "But if you keep whining, I'll send you down there in nothing but your diaper and a t-shirt."

That shut me up real quick. She finished taping up the diaper, making several passes to ensure it was nice and tight, tucking in the folds to ensure there wouldn't be leaks. I tested the bulk, cringing at how loud they were between my legs.

"Try not to move to much," she smirked, "You don't want them to hear the crinkles, do you?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 1.4

Oh, John. It's hard because I'm like “fame was not good for that man” but I'm also like “he would've gone crazy with self-loathing if he didn't have the fame.”

John and Paul start to answer a question at the same time. John: no, go on, you can say it. They're seriously so married. 

John's schoolboy flirting is cute, but what's more noteworthy to me is a) how happy Paul is to be shoved and b) how he instantly leans back into John. It's like they're bungeed together or something. 

John gets me. Look how much he loves Paul bringing out the forced confidence shield to protect him. He's so in love. So turned on. 

Here's my question about the death threats. Did the other Beatles actually receive them and tell Brian about them and keep them from John? Because that would be incredibly sweet and noble of them, but also, in that case, surely John received death threats too. Meaning he just didn't care about his own life and assumed the others were being left out of it because they hadn't actually said they were bigger than Jesus. Or did they have people filtering all their mail by that point? And Brian had been keeping the death threats from all of them? Because that could be interpreted as both protective and selfish of him. Does anyone know?

Again. I just love how Paul goes to bat for John over and over during this tour. Batting his eyes and playing with his hair and shouting down any and all criticism of John speaking his mind.

This moment is so telling to me. An interviewer who was up front at several concerts points out the looks and smiles between John and Paul which you can only see from the front and asks, “is it really that much fun every time?” The easy answer is, “Yeah. We like what we do. It's fun!” But Paul gets cagey. “Oh well the thing is you know with things like that it's probably…” and he makes up a bullshit story about messing up on a song they haven't performed in a year. Why do that if you don't have something to hide? (Even if you're subconsciously hiding) That right there is a tip-off for me that they're not normal about each other. 

Interviewer: are you guys breaking up? John, immediately and emphatically: No. Paul: "Depends what you mean by breaking up, you know . . . Because we can't go on forever like this, so we've got to think now and prepare for, you know, if it did happen. The time has come for us to break up, but we've realized the possibility . . . Of breaking up as a natural progression." Literally shut the fuck up right now, you're going to give John an aneurysm.

I understand. I know. I don't relate to Paul much but I do relate to his hyperactivity and his avoidant attachment. I make sure constantly that I'll be okay when all my relationships end. But you don't talk about that in front of the other person. Especially someone like John whose worst fear is being left. Come on. Think. 

See, now look what you did, Paul. Here's John's answer the next time they're asked about breaking up. 

And yeah, the klan being the ones to “stand up against the Beatles blasphemy” really proves my point from the last post I think. It's just masked racism. 

It actually seems like Paul's more vocally political at this point in time than John is. I wonder what happened to change that? Was it just the influence of their respective wives? Was it just easier for them to play up the roles they'd been assigned for the most part?

Okay on this round of “are you breaking up” they look at each other first before they answer and then Paul goes “all together probably.” I wonder if they talked about their previous answers together and admitted – however cautiously or however veiled – that hearing the other say they might leave hadn't been fun. Who knows, honestly.  

Paul and John often talk about making a radio show together apparently. Gosh if only they could've done that now. I'd make them my token white boy podcast. It'd be great. They'd be so lame and so adorable and they'd talk about recipes and politics and they'd gossip and rank other people's music. But anyway, what really gets me is the often bit. So they really did plan their post-beatle future together. Enough that it was a frequent topic of discussion between them. They planned to be together forever. 

Ugh it always guts me that Paul brought a girlfriend to Paris with him to meet up with John.

Okay my tin hat is glued to my head for this but. But. Hear me out alright? So John starts filming on 09/19/66. He's there for 6 &½ weeks. Putting the end at the beginning of November, right when Paul goes in disguise and alone to Paris. Do we have tabs on John for those dates? John just talked about going around Paris in disguise. What if  they met up by themselves and in secret? What then?

 No fucking wonder John was exhausted with him. Damn. He takes a month and a half to write strawberry fields, shows it to Paul, then...

Interviewer: the songwriting team will keep going whatever happens will it? John: yeah, we'll probably carry on writing music Forever. It's just so ‘Obviously. Might as well ask me if the sun's going to come up tomorrow.’

His friend – try dangerous drugs with and take home to daddy type “friend” – just died brutally and suddenly two days ago, and this is what he looks like and talks like and he's going in to work like it's nothing. I just. Compare that to John talking about Brian's death? Obviously two very different relationships but still… Paul's upbringing really fucked him up so hard. He thinks he's not allowed to be human. What can I say? It's a drag.

AKA the happiest 6 months of John and Paul's lives. 

I find it fascinating that Paul alone is asked to compose and record what would eventually become the carnival of light and that he just went ahead and included everyone in that. Really makes me wonder if he got a vibe off John that him doing the family way alone was hurtful or if they maybe even talked about it? Or maybe he just didn't like doing the family way without John.

Actually quite a lovely, forward-thinking, humble speech. Imagine being John, though. Watching that from home like “why the fuck is he philosophizing to the world without me?” Because you know John shares all those sentiments and might even have got there first. It would be infuriating.

“A lucky man who made the grade” is an interesting way to describe Tara and I can't help but wonder if it has anything to do with Tara being cool enough for Paul to associate with him. And Paul is many things but stupid is not one of them. He's going to at the very least wonder if this verse is about John laughing at his friend's death. Right? Like I know Paul's the repression CEO but seriously I don't think even he is that good. 

Maybe that Leopold and Leob quote isn't just about tearing people down verbally. Maybe Wooler genuinely got a vibe of a sense of superiority and therefore lack of empathy with Lennon/McCartney.

I mean he really does sound like he's describing sex though, doesn't he? Emotional, loving, romantic sex. Followed immediately by Paul's “I'd love to turn you on” lyrics and the “down with pants” and “sword swallower” pins. Alrighty then. 

What I would call my Beatles bio after watching this. "They Touched Dicks: The Only Logical Conclusion."

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #understanding lennon mccartney #ulm

[shoezuki]

Sampo has taken him to dozens of planets at this point, massive ships the size of celestial bodies and burnt out stars that have turned lush with discolored plant life over billions of years. Massive, writhing metropolitans and quaint, warm planets with people who gawked at their appearance. He's seen massive astral leviathans' open maws that span galaxies and ingest stars, phantom ships made of wood and bone slice through shimmering fogs. Planets composed of intertwined living beings, made of twisting and layered plant matter, places where the stars speak low sharp words and dance over his closed eyelids and make him dizzy.

But he hasn't take Gepard to his home planet.

Gepard assumed it was inevitable; he had known a while before Sampo had taken him off Jarilo-IV that Sampo wasn't from Belobog. He'd suspected it but been unsure long before Sampo mended him back to health. It was a partially spoken truth now, while Sampo divulged more information about every aspect of the universe to him.

"When are we going to your home planet?" Gepard had asked, openly, one night they spent on a waterlogged planet with specks of land, watching as the ocean jumped up and strange aquatic creatures swam through thick air.

Sampo had scoffed, Gepard watching him stand and look out over the horizon with his arms crossed. "My home planet? Please, no need to go to that lump of rock! Trust me, it's the worst planet out here. I've walked on gas giants and burning sun's that were better than that place."

"You came from it," Gepard said softly, maybe thinking Sampo would understand why there's something clinging on the inner walls of his heart that make him want to see where Sampo came from so bad. "It can't be that horrible then, right?"

Sampo doesn't speak, but he shakes his head. "Do you wanna go out? Do you think we could swim in the water... sky... thing?" He grins and Gepard let's him change the topic, content to follow Sampo.

He doesn't talk about his planet without Gepard pushing him. He doesn't talk much of anything about where he came from, how he grew up, why he apparently spent years jumping across planets long before he ended up in Belobog. Gepard asks, sometimes, when he feels maybe he can coax a response from Sampo. But he always deflects, gives vague or contradictory answers, or only responds with tame non-answers.

Sampo acts as usual; he talks constantly, about little things or memories or stuff he wants to show Gepard. When he's not talking, he's humming, tapping his fingers against the glass control panels of the ship, kicking his foot absentmindedly against his chair with a constant metallic thunkthunkthunkthunk. He always grins wide when he looks at Gepard, sometimes grabbing Gepard by his face and pressing kisses against every inch of skin so rapidly it's almost overwhelming.

Sampo talks to Gepard when he thinks he's asleep. Gepard, every time, pretends not to listen.

"I don't want to take you back."

Their bed is small, more like a cot made for one person. Gepard had offered it to Sampo the first time they'd investigated their stolen ship but Sampo had just laughed and pulled Gepard to lay with him. Every night Sampo holds Gepard, arms locked around him and keeping his head pressed to Sampo's chest, or his own body weight draped over Gepard like a weighted blanket.

Right now, he hooks his chin over Gepard's shoulder, running fingers through his blonde hair, one hand over his side. Sampo's hand ghosts over his ribs, burning through Gepard's shirt, directly over the rough, newly healed scar.

He's quiet, so painfully quiet, and gentle, with his touch faint and entirely for Sampo's own gain. Gepard nearly drifted off, but now he keeps his eyes closed, his breathing soft, hoping Sampo doesn't feel how his heart jumps when Sampo brushes a finger over the shell of his ear.

"I don't want to take you back," he repeats softly, his words dark and low with the confession, "I'd keep you in this... stupid little ship, in the stars with me forever. If I could. If you wanted. Only if you wanted."

Gepard does want it: to keep waking up to nothing but stars and Sampo's sleeping face or exhausted grin; to listen to Sampo drawl on about all the stars and planets and strange celestial lifeforms they pass with knowledge that feels bigger than Sampo himself; to be dragged from planet to planet, Sampo's hand searing new marks into his own palm and finger prints, his excitement electric and tangible.

Gepard does, deep down, want it. He wants Sampo to himself, too. To give himself entirely to Sampo. But a part of him will always be in Belebog. They both know it.

Sampo is quiet, the next morning. More than quiet--he's subdued, faraway, as if locked inside himself. Even when Sampo isn't speaking he's loud, his presence always drawing and begging for Gepard's attention. Now he seems small, curled in on himself in the piloting seat.

"Sampo?" It feels rude, wrong to break the silence with his own voice, but Gepard does. "Are you okay?" Sampo turns his head, barely, to look at Gepard where he stands against the wall. He shoots him just a smile, but says nothing. It makes more concern coil and simmer deep in his gut.

Gepard has no clue where they are now, in the vast impossibility of space. The universe is foreign to him, but Sampo treats it like an old friend, like he knows it intimately. Gepard has let Sampo take the reigns, guide them to wherever he wants to go. It had stressed him out, at first, the lack of knowing, the unfamiliarity of new worlds. But now more than ever, he's content just being with Sampo. He'd go with him anywhere.

Where they are now, though, feels different. The outside space is dark, swirling celestial bodies of black and grey and bloody reds and browns the colour of bruises. The terrain is made up of fragments of comets, rocks, shattered formations and debris. The debris varies from collections of dust to meteors larger than their ship, jagged and broken apart like Qlipoth had shattered them open with his hammer. Gepard sees the metallic glint of wrecked ships, metal shards embedded in rock and flayed among it all.

He hates this place. Gepard doesn't know if it's him, or if it's some sort of cosmic effect, but there's a heaviness pressing on him. Maybe it's something real, tangible, or maybe it's the way Sampo navigates the wreckages and meteors with a stiff ease in his shoulders.

Gepard walks up to him, quiet behind him. He wants to touch Sampo, feel the heat of him against his palms, but for some reason he feels like he can't. Instead he places his hands on the back of Sampo's seat, his fingers barely brushing against Sampo's back.

"Sampo, are you okay? If... if something is the matter, you can tell me--"

"What d'ya think?"

Gepard blinks, finding himself shocked by the weight of Sampo's gaze suddenly on him. His eyes always have a dull quality to them, the shine underneath his pupils gone save for when Gepard whispers against his skin or presses his lips across his face. Now, though, his eyes are dark, all consuming. They absorb the light and snuff it out, making the small ship feel cold. "I... what?"

"This place," Sampo hums, turning back to focus on navigating. His smile is a practised, stiff line. "It's lovely, isn't it? Or do you find it creepy? Messy? I mean, it's a lot of destruction. There's a good reason no one but ol' Sampo comes around here anymore."

Gepard frowns, feeling like Sampo's having a conversation he's not a part of. "What do you mean? What is this place?"

"There used to be a planet," he pauses, making a noise in the back of his throat, "actually, a few planets. Small ones. They'd been under the IPC's control for a looonnng time. Until they abandoned 'em after clearing all the minerals out and leaving the planets hollow."

His mouth is dry, his fingers digging into the back of Sampo's seat harshly. Sampo's voice is light, conversational, like he's explaining one of the allegedly 'boring and lame' planets they'd passed before. "The planets were basically just rocks, before the IPC made them into mining projects and shipped a bunch of people to work away there. They left the workers when the mines dried up.

"Rivet Town looks almost exactly like the mining planets did, back then." He clicks his tongue, shaking his head slightly. "The people who'd scrounged up enough money took off, taking everything they could with them. Mine supervisors left behind their working families and their kids and went back with the IPC while the planets starved slowly."

The ship slows, between asteroids and at the edge of a vast, whirling expanse of debris. It swirls around out and around a burning, black body of... of something, within the center of a shattered planet light years away from them. Gepard stares, and the sight of it burns into his eyes.

"D'you know how Masked Fools recruit people?" Sampo says it with a giggle, not waiting for a response. "Sometimes they just whisk kids away from happy families before they can remember anything. Sometimes people go to the taverns themselves and try and choke down the drinks, but that's not often. Most often, though, the Fools find hopeless, little planets and whisk away orphans seconds before... boom! Planet gone! You never forget the popping noise a collapsing, imploding planet makes."

He cackles, laughter loud and echoing off the metal walls. Gepard's hands are shaking, staring out into the ruined abyss, the remnants of planets and lives and a past Gepard can never, ever see or understand. His eyes burn and his heart aches.

Gepard lunges forward, pressing himself harshly against the chair as he wraps his arms around Sampo. He circles his chest and presses his face into the curve of his neck, holding him so tightly as if Gepard is trying to squeeze Sampo into his very being. Sampo's laughter becomes broken, wet and frantic when Gepard holds him tightly. He shakes under Gepard's tight grip, the shine of tears of Sampo's face as he continues to stare into ruined space. Sampo bites his lip, hard, to stifle himself.

"Come home," Gepard exhales, pressing his words into Sampo's skin, "come home with me. After-- after all this. I don't care how long we're out here or where else we go but please. Please come home with me. I'll copy the key to my apartment. I have enough room in my closet for you. We can--I can buy you wigs and dresses and whatever the fuck you want. Anything."

"Why?" It's a whisper, barely a question. Sampo lifts his hand and grasps the forearm pressed over his chest. "Why?"

"Because Natasha probably still needs your help, and Seele will gut me if you don't return, and Hook without a doubt misses you, and Serval pretends she hates you but still asks me how you are when you text me, and I'm in love with you." He sucks in a breath; saying it always makes him feel airy, lightheaded. "I'm in love with you, and I want you there. Why else?"

There's silence for some moments too long, Sampo still shaky in Gepard's grip. He starts to worry that he's suffocating, that it's too much, but when he tries to pull away Sampo grabs his arms and holds them there, stopping him from moving.

"... but my criminal record's gone," Sampo whines, the faintest bit of humour in his voice. He tilts his head back, eyes still red rimmed when he looks up at Gepard with a searching smile. Gepard, having spent so long with him at this point, knows what he's really saying.

"I'm sure you'll record will be as long as it was before in no time." Gepard grumbles, wrinkling his nose and letting his conflicted feelings into his tone. But he lets it drop away with a sigh, shaking his head and feeling fond. "... as long as you try not to give my Guards too much grief, Koski."

Sampo doesn't say anything, but when he smiles and laughs, when he pokes into Gepard's cheek and says that the Silvermane Captain better not go soft on him, his eyes are shining.

#sampard #honkai star rail #sampo koski #gepard landau #in the bones #this mini fic has been half done in my drafts n i been unsure on finishing it cuz its quite. obvious. how this relates to other. stuff #but i want to write more minifics of these idiots going around the universe n shit #anyways i hc that sampo became so fond of jarilo and belobog cuz he had a childhood a lot like the kids in the underworld #before he became a fool

[alessiathepirate]

The Fate of the Furious

ALIVE: Deckard Shaw x fem!reader

Summary: She thought Deckard Shaw died - yet luckily he didn't. After joining the crew on the rooftop, he had some explaining to do.

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I may have made while I wrote this short story.

A quiet thank you for my friend who watched these movies with me during a movie night. I love you <3

Warnings: swearing, mentioned violence and death

•••

"Oh, this will be good." Roman said to Tej as he poked - or rather punched - his arm. Both of them looked at the scenario in front of them, suddenly forgetting about their bickering over Ramsey.

Perhaps if things went differently, they'd stop arguing to quietly laugh at Shaw carrying a baby - only silently, because they perefer living over dying. Shaw with a baby was something they couldn't imagine at all, yet the thing Roman pointed out wasn't the baby. No, it was Shaw himself, who clearly overestimated his self-worth if he showed up there after the stunt he pulled.

And just in time, the girl whose feelings were very obviously hurt because of the said stunt noticed Shaw's arrival - and she looked like she's seen a ghost.

"No way, man. I really don't want to see this." Tej answered unsurely, leaning back in his seat.

"You won't want to miss it either. She'll kick his ass, that's for sure." In no other scenario would Roman dare to say that - the guy might have super hearing or something.

And just like that, the show started.

"You dick!" the shouting was so loud everyone's gaze was on her, but then - after understanding the situation - they decided to look away, not wanting to become a target of her wrath. "You absolute fucking asshole!"

"Come on, sweetheart, don't curse in front of the-"

"Don't you act like you suddenly give a shit about someone!"

"Oh, he fucked up!" Roman laughed in his seat.

"He fucked up big time." Tej agreed, and it was very rare that they did.

"No way I'd be him right now..."

Her expression was a mixture of anger and hurt, and she very clearly didn't want anyone else there to intervene - no man would dare to either way and they wouldn't succeed in doing so without getting a punch to the face.

But Letty, understanding her feelings because she was the only one she had talked to about them, did her best to diffuse the situation - in front of the child at least.

"I'll take him, don't you worry." she took the infant seat from Shaw, who had the expression of betrayal on his face.

"Thanks for your help, now why don't you go and talk this out?" if Dom's voice was anything to go by, he secretly very much enjoyed seeing Shaw's face as his son, the safety blanket he could hide behind was taken from him.

"Yeah, why don't we go and talk this out, Shaw?"

Ramsey gasped behind them and Dom patted Shaw on the back, sending him the luck he'll need. Roman poked Tej on the arm again, Hobbs chuckled from not so far away.

Deckard Shaw must have fucked up big time - he himself knew that too. It's been months since she called him Shaw. He was never Shaw, only Deckard or maybe if he was lucky enough, Deck. But he was never ever Shaw.

"All right, let's talk this out, sweetheart."

She hugged herself with her arms, not giving him the opportunity to hold onto her hand. Deckard didn't try to do so though, he understood where the line was and he didn't want to overstep it.

They walked to the other side of the roof, away from their gazes and voices, and only then did her eyes start to water.

Deckard wasn't good at apologies, but even he knew that's the time for one. She's hurt and rightfully so, but he didn't mean to hurt her at all. God, he'd go to Hell and back for her and he knew she'd do the same - they knew more than a few things about the other and they liked the other even if they don't like many people.

But now she's sad and hurt - and angry, because of Deckard and he didn't know what he should do to make it better.

"Sweetheart, I-"

"No, don't you fucking sweetheart me." Sweetheart was the petname Deckard saved for her and didn't use it on anybody else. "I thought you died, do you know how that feels? I thought you fucking died!" she grabbed onto the railing to try and regain her strength. "Do you know that I cried for you? I fucking cried for you. I almost went after Dom by myself to hurt him like he hurt me and Dom is my friend!"

He put his hand on her shoulder and she let him, but she didn't look at him at all.

"And then you just call me to tell me everything is okay, I- I don't know what hurt more: that you didn't tell me or that you don't trust me enough to tell me stuff like that."

"I trust you. I trust you and I don't trust anybody else." Deckard touched both of her shoulders to turn her towards him.

He expected her to be angry or sad, he even expected a punch to the face, like when she playfully hit him after a way too bad one liner on a mission. But she didn't do any of that.

No, she was crying. And if Deckard was bad at apologies, then he was even worse at comforting crying women - especially someone he genuinely cares about.

"Why didn't you tell me not to worry?" her voice was high pitched, the kind Deckard hadn't heard before. She never cried. He hadn't seen her cry.

He made her cry.

"Because I needed her to believe it."

It was a poor excuse. He knew it - she knew it.

Yet it was still better than not saying anything or him just saying a 'fuck you'.

"So you're okay? Not even a small cut?" she asked looking at his face, trying to find some scars.

"You know me, sweetheart." he smiled and she was the only one who has ever seen him smile. "And I know you too, so if you'll punch me please tell me so I can get ready."

She chuckled. "Because?"

"Because your punches are really fucking strong."

That was the kind of compliment Deckard Shaw gave her, the kind only she recieved and no one else. And she smiled at that too, even if her eyes were still teary and the pain and fear didn't fully go away.

"I don't want to punch you."

"Really?" he had a suspicion that she really wanted to.

"Really. I just got you back and you want me to hurt you straight away?"

"I'd let you and I'd deserve it too."

He really meant that, she thought as she examined his face, trying to find some dishonesty. She couldn't find any - but to her surprise, his eyes were soft. There was some softness in there, the kind no one's ever seen, because they didn't deserve to see it.

"No, just..." she wiped away the tears and pushed his hands off her shoulders as she leaned against the railing. "I just want you to promise me that you'll tell me- the next time, because in a job like ours there will be a next time for sure."

"Yeah, I promise."

She smiled softly, her wrath slowly disappearing and tiredness took its place. She looked tired.

"You know, we never really talk about it, but just so you know, you mean a lot to me." she said quietly, as if she's confessing something she's not ready for yet. "And I mean it. I really do. No joke or anything."

"I know." he really knew, and he also knew that not many people would do that for him. "And I'd kill for you."

"I know, you already did." she chuckled. "And not even once."

"They deserved it."

"In your eyes everyone deserves to die who looks at us the wrong way." she said remembering all the times Deckard decided to pull out a gun to shoot someone who was unfriendly. "Actually, I'm surprised Hobbs is still with us."

"I promised to fight him one day."

"Yeah, I'm not surprised about that at all." she looked at the others who sat around the table talking. "You'd win."

"I know I would."

"But he'd kick your ass too. He asked me if I want him to do that after the stunt you pulled. I said I'd think about it."

"And what do you think?"

"You'd deserve it, but I'm leaning towards a no."

Deckard laughed and so did she. It was good to laugh with him again.

They stayed quiet after that. She didn't know what else to say or rather how she should talk about the things she should definitely talk about. She thought of the last few hours and days, how Letty was there for her after Deck's fake death - and what they talked about. How she regretted not telling him the things she wanted to.

"I didn't mean it like that." she spoke up after a while. "When I said you mean a lot to me." she had his full attention, she knew it and felt it in his gaze. "I meant that I think about you as more than a friend."

She continued to look at her friends again, watched as they laughed and talked. Dom had his son in his arms and Roman and Tej were arguing again. She focused on every small detail instead of looking Deck in the eyes.

"I know what you meant sweetheart. That's what I meant when I said I'd kill for you." she had to look at him when his hand was on hers. "I just can't let them see me as a softie, can I?"

He was teasing her and he was grinning, and in that moment for her he was the most lovable, playful asshole in the whole world.

"You dick!" she shouted with a laugh as she hit his arm and she felt the others' eyes on herself. "You come back from the dead and you act like this? I should let Hobbs kick your ass. Being soft with me is the least you can do to apologize."

"I knew you wanted to hit me."

She hit him on the arm again - this time the both of them were grinning like idiots and she wouldn't have it any other way.

"Of course I do. This is the worst love confession I've ever seen."

"But you wouldn't have me any other way."

"That's right, I wouldn't. I'd be way too bored without you in my life."

This time he caught her arm before it could land and his hold on her wrist was gentle. That hand could kill and punch - and he looked damn good when he did that -, but it would never ever hurt her. Not intentionally.

They both leaned in to kiss the other - and they most likely argued about who had the balls to initiate the first kiss later. It was a great kiss, a damn good one. The one what's full of passion and emotion, the one that made her stomach tighten.

"I love you, you idiot, but if you act like you're dead in front of me ever again I--" he kissed her again to shut her up.

"I love you too."

"So much for not being a softie." she giggled as she hugged him, hiding her face from everyone - because she was grinning like an idiot in love.

"You won't let this one go, will you?"

"Not at all." she answered. "By the way, just so you know, Dom wasn't the only one who called your mother."

"You did not call my mother."

"I didn't want to punch you, but she'll definitely scold you for me."

She smirked as she saw his expression. "You're one evil woman."

"But you wouldn't have me any other way." she quoted.

On the other side of the roof the table was set a long time ago and everyone was waiting for the two of them to join in so they can start to eat. Although watching the drama before eating wasn't too bad either.

"You know, as much as I dislike him, I'm happy she's happy." Ramsey said after the pair kissed.

"I was right man, I really didn't want to see that." it was Tej's turn to poke Roman, who only stared at Deckard and her in disbelief.

"I expected more drama." Rome said with clear disappointment in his voice. "And why is she in love with the guy? What does he have that I don't?"

"Why don't you go ahead and tell that to him yourself. I'm sure he'd happily answer you with a punch." Tej teased him with a grin. "Go ahead boss, ask him."

"I hate you all..."

#fast and furious #the fate of the furious #deckard shaw #deckard shaw x reader #deckard shaw x fem!reader #fast and furious x reader

[ageingfangirl2]

A Little Goes A Long Way! Buggy (OPLA)

SMUT! A week has passed since a drunken encounter between you and your captain occurred and he's all you have on your mind, little do you know your captain feels the same way. Buggy x Reader (Female)

Part 2

Y/N

It had been a week since you'd gotten drunk with the crew after a successful raid that came with a lot of treasure. It had been a week since you drunkenly told your captain that you wanted him to fuck you and that you craved him, and the captain followed through fucking you beneath the deck. It had been a week since he left dark hickeys on your inner thighs, chest and neck that had only started to fade recently. It had been a week since your last interaction, and you weren't sure if he regretted that night because his orders came from other crew members.

There was one thing you were sure of and that was that you couldn't get him off your mind. He was like a drug and you were addicted. Maybe you'd been at sea too long and needed a release. You would fool around when you docked in a port with random guys, but the captain made those guys seem like boys and sex wouldn't be the same unless it was with him.

You weren't the only female crew member, but you'd been around the longest. Of course, Buggy had screwed them, and they had stories to tell that only piqued your interest. Alvida was the only one who didn't have an interest in him that way. The other crew were more feminine than you, but you could draw an eye or two, choosing to make men come to you and not the other way around. But here you were debating going to Buggy and begging for round two.

'y/n can you do me a favour?' Alvida asks, popping her head around the kitchen door.

You stop chopping vegetables and face her smiling, the two of you got along really well since she joined, 'Anything for you Alvida.'

She winks at you, 'I was asked to gather intel on our next target from a guy in town. Can you deliver it to the captain please, I'm going back into town.'

she slaps some documents down on a barrel and you roll your eyes, 'Of course, go get laid.'

She blows you a kiss, 'See you tomorrow beautiful, don't do anything I wouldn't do.'

You laugh at her antics as she vanishes. You finish chopping the vegetables before picking up the documents. It looked like you had an excuse to see Buggy, you just weren't sure what was going to happen.

BUGGY

Running a ship was hard work. Yes, we had a success last week but now we need to move on to the next target. Alvida should have something for me, though I wasn't quite sure where the damn woman was. Working also got my mind off y/n of all people. They'd been on the crew for a couple of years, mainly helping in the kitchen and showing impressive knife skills in shows. They put up with my rants, and flirting and took punishments like a champ. I never once pursued them, unlike other female crew members out of respect. So imagine my surprise when a week ago when they were drunk they came up to me and said they wanted to fuck and had been thinking about me for a while.

I'm a man and gave into my carnal desires, taking y/n in the shadows, pounding into them as they begged for more. I left marks all over their body, and they were beautiful in the light of day when they weren't covered. But for a week now I'd been ignoring them, assuming that once sober they had regrets.

'Captain can I come in?' y/n calls out, knocking on the door.

Well, this would be interesting. I take a deep breath, 'come in.'

y/n walks in smiling, they are always a happy person, and this makes it hard to read them, 'Alvida's a little busy and asked me to deliver this intel.'

y/n puts the folder on the desk but doesn't immediately leave. I sit back in my chair and smirk, 'something else on your mind?'

y/n closes their eyes and takes a deep breath before pointing an accusing finger my way, 'I'm all over the place and it's your fault.'

My smirk reaches my ears and I chuckle, 'Mmm, it's not all on me, you know y/n,' I say teasingly, 'I was minding my own business having a couple of drinks when you came onto me. Been thinking about me all week have you?'

y/n opens their eyes and a blush gives them away. I detach a hand and use it to pull them towards me, forcing them onto my lap which they straddle without any further prompting.

I unbutton their shorts and slip my fingers inside, shocked to find them not wearing any underwear, 'dirty girl.'

y/n bites their lip, 'I need to do laundry, this wasn't planned.'

I nod along, mischief in my eyes, 'You didn't lock the door. Do you want someone to walk in on us?'

This wasn't my first rodeo, I knew exactly where to touch, rub, pinch and how much pressure to apply to the clit to get certain responses. y/n was putty in my hands whimpering and trying to keep control, but this was my fight to win.

I lick my lips, 'answer me. Do you want to get caught with your captain? Do you want the crew to think you're another whore for my dick?'

y/n's whimpers were enough to get me hard, but they still kept eye contact which was hot, '...maybe...right now...I want you inside me...'

I don't give any warning before I move away from the clit and thrust two fingers inside their tight warm cunt, 'BUGGY!' they squeal loudly, and squirm on my lap.

'Tell me what you want,' I whisper, voice low, and y/n shudders beneath me.

'...faster...please...' they beg and a moan slips out.

I add a third finger and quicken the pace. Beads of sweat form on y/n's forehead as they come undone around me. y/n bucks their hips and grinds against me, 'FUCK!' I exclaim as y/n starts fucking themselves on my fingers matching my pace.

if anyone walked past my quarters right now all they'd hear were y/n's moans, 'You really are a dirty girl. So desperate and needy, I should have fucked you sooner,' I laugh.

With one more forceful thrust from me y/n cums on my fingers still inside them. They breathe heavily coming down from their high, the blissful look in their eyes turning me on even more, '...fuck...Buggy...'

I remove my slick fingers and bring them to my lips, licking them clean, 'so sweet. I didn't have to do much, you fucked yourself and it was hot.'

y/n's face turns a darker shade of red before they bury it in my chest in embarrassment at their slutty actions. I can't contain my laughter as I hold them against me and kiss the top of their head, 'next time I'm going to watch you finger fuck yourself y/n. You're captain's dirty girl now.

#anime fanfiction #anime imagines #opla #one piece fanfiction #one piece imagines #one piece live action #one piece #one piece live action imagines #one piece live action fanfiction #anime blog #one piece smut #one piece buggy #one piece buggy fanfiction #one piece buggy imagines #opla buggy #opla buggy fanfiction #opla buggy x reader #buggy the clown smut #buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown imagines #buggy the clown fanfiction #opla smut

[rxmqnova]

Mommy's Natasha

Y/N: 6 years old Wanda and Nat: teachers Story: Wanda invites her girlfriend over… ——————————————————

Y/N'S POV I hate school! I always beg mommy to not let me go there, but she always does. I used to like school, but few weeks ago a group of boys from my class started making fun of me after discovering my mama is a teacher there. They even broke my crayons a few times.

I haven't told mommy about it. She has a lot of work and she'd be sad, so I'm keeping it for myself.

"There you are! Let's see what we have for lunch" Johnatan says, taking my bag away and searching through it.

"Give it back! It's mine!" I fight back, trying to get out of the strong hold of the other boys that are holding me. Honestly, I don't know what the entire class finds so funny about it. They always take my lunch and then I'm hungry the entire day. I don't exactly find that funny.

"Hey, hey, hey. What's going on here?" The most strict teacher on our school comes to the class… Miss Romanoff. She teaches older students Russian which is cool, but I already can speak that language… it's really similar to Sokovian.

"Nothing" The boys say, letting go of me. I quickly wipe my tears, knowing that if I didn't they'd do something horrible to me afterwards.

"Nothing?" She asks, raising her eyebrow. "It didn't really seem like nothing to me"

"She started it!" Johnatan points at me.

"Did she?" Miss Romanoff asks, bending a bit down to look into Johnatan's eyes.

"Y-Yes" Johnatan says, he's clearly scared of her. I'd be too if I was on his place, cause she seems to be on my side.

"I don't want to see that ever again. Understand?" She looks at him sternly and he only nods. "Good" She stands up again, turning her attention at me. "Y/N, can you come with me for a moment? And take your bag with you" She gives me a smile.

I have no idea how does she know my name, but I guess she knows my mom? I better take my bag and walk out of the classroom with her.

"Are you okay?" She asks me and I nod my head. "Sit here, sweetheart" She smiles, pointing at a chair in her office, so I do as said. I climb up and wait for her to speak. She sits on another chair opposite me. "Was this the first time they were being mean to you?" She asks and I shake my head no. "Did you tell your mom?" I shake my head again. "Why not?"

"Because I don't want mommy to be sad. She has a lot of work" I tell her honestly, looking down at my knees and trying to push back my tears.

"Детка, your mommy needs to know things like that. She might be a bit sad, but she's going to do everything to protect you" She smiles. "Will you promise me you'll tell her?" I better nod my head. I don't know why she's being kind to me, but it's a bit scary. "Okay. Now tell me what were they doing with your bag?" (baby)

"They took my lunch. It's probably in the trash by now" I answer with a sigh, still looking down.

"Anything else?" She asks and I shake my head no in response.

"Okay. Come on. Let's buy you new lunch then" She smiles and stretches her hand for me to hold. I give her a smile, hold her hand and we walk to our school cafeteria.

———————————

Mama and I just arrived home from school. I haven't told her anything yet since mommy's new girlfriend is coming over for dinner, but I will tell her tomorrow.

Mama gets into cooking and I get into building a fort, so I can play before she comes. All I know about that woman is that her name is Natasha and that she's nice. At least that's what mommy said, so I hope she'll be nice to me.

"Y/N, baby, clean up the fort please! Natasha should be here in 10 minutes!" Mama calls from the kitchen.

"Yes, mama!" I call back.

10 minutes? I can play for a few more and then clean up. Just 5 more minutes…

Doorbell

"Y/N, could you open the door please!" Mama calls. "Coming!" I call back.

That must be Natasha and I haven't cleaned up the fort yet. Mommy will be mad.

"Oh. Hey there" A familiar voice says.

"Miss Romanoff? Are you here to tell mommy? I haven't told her yet, because mommy's girlfriend Natasha is coming over for dinner" I quickly explain.

"No, honey. I'm not here to tell your mommy. But I think you should tell her as soon as possible" She smiles. "I'm here, because your mommy invited me over for dinner"

"You are mommy's Natasha?" I gasp, making her chuckle.

"I guess I'm mommy's Natasha. Yeah" She says with a smile.

She's completely different than at school. It's like someone changed her. But I like this version more.

"Y/N/N, is it Natasha? I hope the fort is gone like I asked you to?!" Mama calls.

"Yeah!" I call, knowing I have to clean it now otherwise she's going to be so angry with me.

"Someone hasn't cleaned up the fort, am I right?" Miss Romanoff says with a smile and raised eyebrows.

"Please don't tell mommy, miss Romanoff. I'll clean it right now" I tell her nicely. I really don't want to be in trouble.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll go to see your mommy and you can clean it up meanwhile" She smiles. "And you can call me Natasha. We're not at school"

"Okay. Thank you, Natasha" I smile. "Mommy is in the kitchen" I quickly do all the cleaning, take a 'thank you' picture I drew for miss Ro-Natasha earlier and head to the kitchen.

"There you are. Where have you been, honey?" Mama asks, lifting me up and sitting me onto her hip.

"Cleaning up a bit more" I whisper, playing with her hair.

"A bit more?" Mama chuckles. "Okay. Let's get into eating" She kisses my forehead and sits me on a chair.

"Wait. Can I speak with Natasha alone please?" I ask as I jump off the chair and take a hold of Natasha's hand.

"Mmmkay?" Mama says, giving me and Natasha a confused look. "I'm gonna check how well you cleaned up" With these words she goes away.

"Up, please?" I smile, lifting my arms for Natasha.

She lifts me up, sitting me onto her hip just like I asked her to. "I drew you a picture" I smile, showing her my drawing.

"Wow. That's really pretty. Thank you, sweetheart" She smiles. "How did I deserve that?"

"I wanted to thank you for buying me lunch and saving me from Johnatan" I thank her, playing with her long curly red hair.

"No problem, детка" She smiles. "If they're mean to you again, you can come to me, okay?" I nod with a smile. "But that doesn't mean you don't have to tell your mommy, okay?" (baby)

"I will tell her tomorrow, I promise" I promise her.

I rest my head on her shoulder. She's not the scary teacher anymore. She's mommy's Natasha.

----------------------

Wanda Maximoff masterlist Masterlist

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #wandanat #scarlet widow

[darlingsfandom]

Me again! ☺️

Okay can we talk about Yvonne’s lipstick on Cillian’s nose during his acceptance speech being the cutest thing ever 🥹

I had an idea based on that where Cillian x girlfriend reader can’t keep their hands off each other during the ceremony. Like they sneak off at one point and come back with his shirt still unbuttoned and lipstick on his neck and lips. So when it’s announced he has to walk up on stage like that, it’s VERY obvious what they was just up to.

I know you’ll work your magic 💕

they're are the cutest! can they take me in with them? Anything they'd want I'd do!

Gif credit: @thesoldiersminute

Warnings: swearing, public sex!

It was all glitz and glamour in your eyes as you watched your boyfriend pose for all the cameras. You stood there with a soft smile until you realized he was waving you over but you declined until he gave you the look! You bit your bottom lip while clenching your thighs as best as you could without anyone noticing. Your heart was going to burst out of your chest, this wasn't the first award show you've went to with Cillian but it never got any easier. All the flashing lights, people calling your name or his name, all the other the other celebrities , it was a lot to always take in but Cillian always did his best to keep you calm and safe.

His arm wrapped around your waist to pull you closer and kissed the top of your head making you blush. Cillian switched places with you when it was time to move forward. He grabbed the long black material of the train of your dress to show off how pretty you look in it. Cillian couldn't help but smile when you turned to look over your shoulder at him, you looked gorgeous! Very little eye make up, dark red lipstick and just a pinch of blush on your cheeks but that most beautiful part of you was your shy smile. He was falling in love all over again.

All you could hear was people calling his name as he hooked his arm onto yours while walking into the building. He patted your hand with his as the two of you made your way to the table.

"Cillian!" Robert cheered as he hugged his best friend making you giggle while Cillian patted him on the back. Robert looked at you and smirked. "And hello pretty lady! You must be Cillians girl." Robert wrapped his arms around you and rubbed your back before taking your hand and kissing it which made your cheeks pink.

"Dats right, she's me girl!" Cillian gripped your hand and pulled out your chair for you helping you sit down. Cillian sat down with you and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. "Da best girl in ta world." Cillian kissed your temple as the rest of the cast made their way to the table. You did your best to stay calm as more people filled up the room. Cillian held your hand tightly making sure to squeeze it every few seconds before placing it on his knee. "Yer doin so good sweetheart! I know tis is a lot fer ya but I'm proud of ya." He kissed your cheek before pulling you closer.

Once the ceremony started and the lights dimmed down you calmed down a little more. You were star struck a few times but as the awards continued you felt something else growing. All the nerves, the smells, the way Cillian held you , the fact he was dressed in that suit... it was making you want him even more. You squeezed his hand hard making him look down at you with concern.

"Ya alright darlin?" He rubbed your cheek gently. You pouted at him and shook your head.

"Let's get ya some fresh air." You were on your feet and linked onto his arm making your way out of the stuffy room. Once the two of you were in the hall Cillian turned to face you and held onto your shoulders.

"Me pretty girl, ya feelin okay?" Your eyes looked into his and he knew exactly what was hidden in them: lust! "Oh, is tat yer problem baby?" All you could do was nod. The two of you casually made your way to the bathroom in hopes of ignoring any paps that were lurking around.

Once the two of you were in the bathroom Cillian pushed you against the wall with a smirk on his lips before kissing you hard. It wasn't even soft, the two of you were kissing like your lives depended on it. Your hands ran down his back gripping the fabric as he moved you over to the sink to bend you backwards so his hands could bunch up the bottom of your dress.

"Dirty girl, didn't even wear yer panties tonight?" You giggled a little in between kisses when you felt his fingers tracing your thighs. Cillian dropped the fabric before reaching behind you and unzipping your dress. "Beautiful! Absolutely beautiful baby." He looked at you like you had just fell from heaven with awe in his eyes that quickly turned into lust when he remembered what was going on and the fact anyone could just walk in.

"I need you Cill! Please please!" You whined spreading open your legs for him while jumping backwards onto the marbled counter , it felt cold against your hot skin. His jaw dropped when he seen how your pussy glistened with wetness.

Cillian waisted no time bending down, spreading open your folds and licking up your slit.

"Cillian!" You gasped loudly before covering your own mouth when his icy blue eyes looked into yours. His tongue lapped up your juices like a starved man as your fingers pulled on his hair while you bit down on your knuckles to keep your moans and whimpers down. Cillian watched as you melted around him. He pulled away slowly licking his lips before leaning in and spitting onto your clit. His thumb rubbed it in as you watched him with pleading eyes.

"Aww yer bein such a good girl fer me! If anyone deserves an award baby it's you! Makin everyone tink yer so innocent yet yer getting fucked in a public washroom!" As you opened your mouth to say anything his fingers were sliding inside of you making you grip the counter. "Ya know I'm right baby." His lips wrapped around your perky nipple as his fingers sped up inside of you making you whimper.

"Baby! You're gonna make me cum!" Your voice was shaking as you arched your hips off the counter.

"Cum fer me! Cum sweet girl!" Cillian encouraged you while pumping his fingers as fast as he could while keeping eye contact with you that sent you over the edge and making a sticky mess on his fingers. You were panting heavily while he cleaned up his fingers but Cillian wasn't finished with you. He undid his pants and freed his hard cock that sprung right up .

"Please Cillian ! I need your cock! Fuck me please!"

"Yer such a dirty girl!" He gave you that signature smirk while stroking his cock a little. "Me dirty girl, how could I ever say no to fucking ya when ya ask so pretty!" Cillian lined the head of his cock up with your pussy before slowly pushing in. He loved how your mouth hung open and the smallest yet neediest moan fell out of your mouth. Your hands gripped onto his chest so you could pull him closer for a deep kiss. Your tongues mixed together hungrily as his cock slipped all the way inside of you. You cried out into mouth while Cillian toyed with your nipples, twisting and pulling while he started thrusting into you. He moved one hand under you to have you wrap your leg around his waist while you pulled him close as possible by the shirt. You pulled a little too hard making a button pop off but neither of you cared, not when his balls were smacking against you hard.

"Dats me good girl takin me fuckin cock." He grunted into your ear. You held onto him tightly as you could throwing your head back in pleasure and crying out his name. At this point you didn't care who heard or who could walk in. You needed him! Cillians thrusts were becoming sloppy which meant he was close and with one more hard thrust he was cumming deep inside of you with a loud grunt and looking into your eyes. He panted against your face while his cock twitched inside of your warm pussy. Cillian slowly pulled out of you and before you could do anything his fingers were scooping out his cum and shoving them into your mouth. "Good girl! Clean yer mess." You smiled weakly around his fingers while sucking them slowly.

Cillian helped you back into your feet, got your dress back on you and zipped up. He did his best to help you look back to normal and not completely fucked out. You helped him tuck his shirt in his pants and get him back to normal. He stuck his head out the door and luckily no one was around, so both of you quickly snuck back into the room and just in time because they were announcing his category. When his name was announced as the winner both of you stood up and you were kissing all over his face. Cillian made his way up there and when started his speech he was all smiles. He asked if there was lipstick, he just moved on but in that moment you realized that it was obvious that you two had just did something. His hair was slightly messy, his shirt was wrinkled and not as nicely tucked in as you thought, plus his zipper was still down! You giggled to yourself when you felt a bump on your shoulder only to see Robert giving you a smirk.

"Now that's one way to win an award!" He chuckled making your face flush when you realized that Cillian was now off stage and back behind you. He looked at Robert with grin. "As you can see, I won in more ways than one tonight ."

#cillian murphy blurb #cillian murphy fluff #cillian murphy drabble #Cillian Murphy #cillian murphy smut #Cillian smut #emsblurbs

[heartbreakgrill]

happen: sleep token (vessel).

a/n: we pretend we don’t see my unfinished fics, okay? also we pretend we don’t see my spelling and grammar and plot mistakes in this, okay? okay. enjoy :)

"your paint is smeared."

vessel looked up from his piano, first meeting my eyes, then following where my finger pointed to.

"shit," his accent stuck out like a sore thumb, elongating the i in the cuss word.

vessel wiped a finger across the paint in an attempt to blend it in. it didn't do much.

"i think you might be making it worse," i commented with a smug smile.

vessel met my sneering gaze. he was unphased by the sarcasm on my tongue. he reached a blackened hand forward as he tried to rip the clipboard from my hands. i ducked out of his reach. the piano blocked him from me, but his arms were long enough that he managed to swipe a hand across my stack of papers.

i scoffed, stepping back a few feet, examining the black paint overtop my paperwork. "vess!"

"y/n!" he mocked my tone. he rounded the piano, coming to look down at the paper in my hands. "your paint is smeared, lovey."

i looked at up with an annoyed stare, "fuck off."

vess patted my bare shoulder, sending electrically shocked goosebumps down my clammy skin. i shifted my arms, hoping he wouldn't notice how i shivered under his touch.

"i'll go get some more paint, kay?" i offered with a deep breath.

vessel settled in front of his piano again. he nodded, pressing a few keys, "there's a tube in my dressing room."

"be right back."

i turned on my heel and headed for the stairs. i passed ii, who patted my head, and iv, who made some chirp about me owing him a shot- which just wasn't true.

i reached the dressing room soon enough. i'd been in here- in the other ones- numerous times. we often all hung out as a group between shows, in here or out on the town with various disguises on the boys. i still didn’t know who the guys were outside of those masks and strange nicknames. sam did, of course, because he’d been teching for the boys for years now. plus, they all had a brotherly relationship. they trust him.

for some reason, going in here by myself felt provocative. i kept my vision tunnelled, just in case they left something important out. they were men, after all-messy, sometimes careless, forgetful.

outside clothes, hoodies and sweatpants i recognized, sat strewn across the chairs and couches. their personal cellphones were sat with their things, different from the work phones they had been assigned. i had their work numbers, for professional conversations, for getting bullied by ii and iv in the groupchat. vessel and i talked, sometimes, about new coffee shops in new towns we'd be stopping by, movies we'd need to go see when we had a day off.

personal phone numbers were for the trusted.

i b-lined for vessel's paint and brushes, on the counter beside his phone. as i did, my eyes glossed over a wallet. it wasn’t one that i recognized. but, i knew that it was vessel's. or, whoever he really was. my fingers itched with a curiosity that i could not feed. it was none of my business who they were. if they wanted me to know, they'd tell me. they'd unmask themselves when we're chilling out on the tour bus.

if vessel trusted me, if he felt our silly conversations held any depth like i thought they did, he'd tell me who he was.

no matter that i'd known him for six months and hehad yet to do so. no matter that i thought we might have reached that point. no matter that sometimes, when he looked at me, there was a longing sat right behind his eyes, a wanting that made me feel entrusted, that made me feel like he understood what was bleeding off my skin.

no matter.

i grabbed the paint and headed back for the stage. vessel was sitting on the side of it now, talking to ii about something or the other. i handed the paint off to him. i went to go backstage, heel prepared to turn, when he spoke, "thanks, lovey."

ii followed vessel's gaze up to me. i stood overtop of them. ii's eyes raked up my bare legs, over the little black dress i wore. he met my eyes and nodded. "hey, gorgeous."

ii always enjoyed flirting with me. playfully, of course. vessel rolled his eyes at the usual quip. "here we go..."

"i am going to do my job. see ya later!"

ii reached up and grabbed my hand before i could leave. i jerked back to my spot, brows raised. ii shook my arm around, "go on, darling, give us a strut."

"you're ridiculous," i ripped my hand from his, though i chuckled slightly.

"tell her, vess," ii nudged his bandmate's shoulder with his elbow, "tell her how beautiful she is. she just doesn't believe me!"

i met vessel's eyes. he never joined the boys in their teasing, never flirted like ii did. he was always genuine, kind. our conversations were always full of depth, too. in fact, he never showed much interest in me besides those longing, full glances that i took to heart, that i let create a delusional fantasy land in my head. everytime i thought he might be, when we'd have these great conversations, he'd pull back. like was afraid, or he didn't fully trust me.

so, i shuddered when vessel's eyes drug down my body, over my exposed chest, the barely visible tops of my boobs, the curve of my waist, hugged tight by the dress, and the skin of my thighs and calves, right to the tips of my platform boots.

it was then that i realized today was going to be a very different day.

"you look..." vessel rolled his eyes back up my body, to my own flustered gaze, "good."

i couldn't get away fast enough. i thanked them both, stuttering slightly, before turning on my heel and racing towards backstage. i bumped into iv's shoulder and muttered a half-hearted apology.

i knew that they all were staring at me, analyzing my girlish behavior. i knew they'd talk about it.

and that was embarrassing as fuck.

when the show ended, i was determined to not be anywhere near any of the boys. i escaped to the bus sam, myself, and the other techies slept on. i changed into comfortable clothing and lay in my bunk, willing the blush on my cheeks to finally leave me alone.

this wasn’t supposed to happen. did i long for him to say something like that? duh!

did i actually want it to happen? no, bitch.

because that changed everything for me.

i just needed to hide out here for the night, will my anxiety and the fawn look in my eyes away. tomorrow, i could shift everything back to how it was. tomorrow, he’d probably act the same- passive, uninterested.

even if there was any weight to that entire interaction, it’s not like anything could even happen between us.

management made the band swear off girls for risk of privacy and in order to focus on their work. besides, i worked for the band. i helped run every single show they did. they were my boss’.

and there was that whole issue of him not trusting me. because it was so obvious that he didn’t.

i was letting my brain run around too much.

what snapped me back to reality was the commotion of everyone returning to the bus, excited chatter from the other men on the crew filling the once silent vehicle. sam's voice got closer as he and another techie approached their bunks, across and above from my own. i figured they’d just be grabbing something before everyone headed out to the bar.

but, of course- that wasn’t my luck.

"yoohoo," sam knocked a fist on wall, near my head, "is there a y/n in here?"

i huffed, "what do you want?" i knew they were here to berate me to come out with them. but that would mean seeing the boys- having to confront the issue that was vessel.

"get up, grandma," sam teased me for being in bed so soon, "we're going to the bar."

"i'm tired," i replied, a slight groan in my voice. please just go away.

"that's a load of bull," sam scoffed, "you literally said this morning that you wanted to go out tonight."

i went to reply, but more voices filled the bus, all too familiar ones that made my chest tight.

"what's going on? is y/n okay?" that thick british accent burst through whatever i was gonna say next. iv.

then, another spoke- ii, i was pretty certain. "what? what's happening? aren't you coming out, y/n?”

i shoved my head into my pillow, wanting to scream. the only downside of tour was this obvious lack of privacy. i appreciated that my presence was always wanted by just about anyone i worked with. but, god, can’t a girl daydream and regret her actions in peace?

i pulled open the curtains sheltering my bed, just a fraction, not even trying to mask my annoyed expression. ii, iv, and sam were squatted just outside my bunk. sam wore a cheeky grin, but the others had their outside masks on. i could read their energy well, though.

"i'm fine, guys," i waved them all off, cuddled up under my blankets, "i just wanna chill tonight."

"no! you can't! please! you have to go out with us! you promised last time you would! plus you owe me a shot!" iv whined, head tilted to the left. he really needed to find a new gimmick.

i rolled my eyes, "you're a baby."

"wow, y/n," ii set a comforting hand on iv's shoulder, gasping at my insult, "that's harsh. here i thought we were friends."

sam laughed in response, "yeah, y/n. that was really mean. you hurt iv's feelings." he, also, touched iv’s arm.

i met iv's eyes with pursed lips. his eyes read no signs of offense. we were all always so mean to each other and i knew they’d call me out if i ever took it too far. no, this- this was them bullying me back. trying to get me to come out. they’d probably, eventually, get on me about my flustered escape from earlier. ii nudged iv, and he began to fake cry, head dropped down into his hands.

i rolled my eyes again with an exasperated huff, "oh, my god. here we go."

the bus door swung open, then shut again, as the rest of the band made their way in. i didn't notice, too caught up in the boys' theatrics to get nervous that vessel was in my vicinity. he stood just out of sight, watching all of us.

iv sobbed, shoulders rocking. "i can't believe you'd say that, y/n!"

"whatever. im not coming out, freaks,” i went to shut the curtain, but sam pushed it open all the way.

i dropped my head to my pillow in annoyance. ii spoke now, egging on the situation further. i grew nervous he’d bring up earlier, "there's just one thing you can do to make this up to him."

"let me guess, it tastes like vodka and rhymes with hot?" i murmured as i pressed a stressed hand over my eyes.

ii pried my hands from my head. “actually- tastes like hennessy and rhymes with get the fuck out of bed!" he, then, reached into my bunk and tickled my sides.

i laughed this ugly, wheezing laugh, squirming away from ii's reach. iv's showcase of crying twisted into him falling back onto his ass, laughing with his head thrown back. sam held onto the bunk as he joined. i then heard vessel and iii's laughs, echoing from a bit down the hall. i tried to snap myself out of the situation, insecure by vessel's presence. but, ii just wouldn't stop tickling me.

luckily, he did, leaving my face red, tears spilling out of my eyes, and a newfound energy to get up from my bunk. i didn’t forget that vessel was standing there, watching. and, i knew, i’d have to face the reality of my embarrassment eventually. but, the boys drunk were usually pretty sweet.

"alright," i huffed and shoved the covers off of my body, "let's go, you freaks."

"you'll come?" ii offered me his hand, helping me off of the floor.

"yeah, i'll come," i released his hand, steadied on my feet. i shoved his shoulder as i walked towards the closet at the end of the hall. i pushed past sam and iv to get there. as i searched through my bag, trying to find my dress from earlier, i felt eyes still on me. all the boys had begun moving from the bus, going outside to smoke and wait on me. but, vessel was still there. lingering.

he waved at me as i looked down the hall towards him. my face flushed again and i gave an awkward smile. god, i was not helping the situation. if anything, i was making it worse, making him uncomfortable, ruining everything. he’d never trust me now.

i put back on my little black dress, tights to bear the cold, platform boots. my makeup was still in tact, though i had to clean up a few smudges made by my sweat from the show. i finally met everyone outside the bus, drawing eyes to my body as i bounded down the steps.

"still looking sexy, darling," ii flirted, cheekily, taking my hand and forcing me to do a little spin in front of everyone.

as i faced back to everyone, i pulled my hand from his and shoved him away from me again. "creep- let's go. you owe me a shot."

"um, i think it's the other way around," ii scoffed.

i began walking from the group, towards the bar down the street. i tossed a confused look over my shoulder, "that never happened. you're crazy."

i left behind a trail of laughing men, a stunned ii. they teased me- but i did back just as much.

it was just a five minute walk, and i kept my pace ahead of everyone because i was cold and wanted to get there quicker. i knew someone was watching me- again. i knew the feel of that stare. i knew it was vesel. so, i tried to stay just far enough ahead that he couldn't catch up. i don’t think i could keep up any meaningful conversation when my heart was still beating this quickly.

alas, the over 6' man fell in stride beside me, easily, hands shoved in the pockets of an alpha wolf sweatshirt. he adjusted his sunglasses, inhaling a chilly breath before saying, “why’d you run off earlier? before the show? did i- say something wrong?”

"no reason," i snapped a too-quick response, arms crossed over my chest. my cheeks were reddening again.

he tsked his tongue, “good. shame, though, i didn't get to enjoy this dress for as long as i would have liked to.” i couldn’t see his eyes- but i knew they flicked down over my body. i straightened up under the gaze.

what game was he playing?

maybe he just wanted to hook up. i knew it wasn’t anything serious for him, because it couldn’t be.

i could imagine he and the boys were horny. all the time they’d spent declaring celibacy on this tour must be getting to them. so, i convinced myself that’s what this was. but, i of course didn’t want that.

so, i couldn’t help but feel let down that i had gotten my hopes up. i had thought that maybe, just maybe, he wanted me like i wanted him. that, again, maybe, he trusted me like i wanted him to. like i trusted him.

i looked up at him, head tilted back from his height. i tried to read the air between us, hoping something else was there. but i knew he wore a cheeky grin beneath his mask. i frowned, slightly, a desperate disappointment laying just behind my eyes. my head shook just slightly, "don't."

vessel's shoulders fell. he nodded, just once, before silencing himself.

we walked to the bar in drowning silence. i wanted to stop, to turn to him and ask him a million questions. why didn’t he trust me? why didn’t he want me? why couldn’t we try?

why couldn’t we have met in another lifetime, where he didn’t feel the need to hide behind a mask? where he didn’t have to put his life on the line just to reveal himself to me?

not that would fix anything if he didn’t feel what i felt.

i needed a drink.

when we got to the bar, we got swept up in the excitement from our group, separated from each other. i was grateful for the space. it allowed me to breathe, allowed me to start getting wasted.

ii and iv shoved drink after drink into my hands. we pounded shots off of the wooden counter of the bar. we paid far too much for the shitty jukebox in the corner to play our favorite songs. ii even eventually drug me out to the make-shift dance floor, holding my free hand in his, guiding my hips with his other palm.

i clutched onto my vodka cran, following the rhythm ii was swinging in his hips. we danced to some usher song, sultry and silly. normally, i’d shove him away and cuss him out, make fun of him. but, the alcohol was starting to burn my throat, sending a soothingly loose feeling through my blood. i was relaxed.

the song slowed and we did with it. i rested my heavy body against his, chin on his shoulder. we danced in a circle. i could see vessel, sitting at the bar, burning a hole through ii's head with his eyes. he saw me looking at him and quickly looked away.

i just wanted to walk right up to him and kiss him, mask or no mask. i just wanted him. i didn’t care what he looked like. who he was. because i knew him- i knew him well. i knew when his favorite cat died, i knew that he dropped his sandwich in the first grade and cried on drive home. i knew he preferred tea over coffee, with two sugar cubes, and an exact glug of milk in it.

my mind was racing like crazy. i needed to ground myself or i’d do something i’d regret.

that’s when ii mumbled into my ear, “he wants you so badly.”

i jolted out of my own head space, pulling my chin back from ii’s shoulder to look up at him. “what?”

i was having trouble processing words.

“vess. he’s been pining after you for so long,” ii had a sense of urgency in his eyes. "and he think he's trying to see if he can shoot my head off with his eyes right now."

i peered over his shoulder. vessel was watching us again. he didn’t look away, though i knew he could see.

“fat chance,” i blurted out. “he keeps pushing me away…pining my ass. everytime we have, like, a really good conversations about, like, the stars or some shit, the next day he acts like he barely knows my name.”

ii was patient, just listening as i rambled, surely drunk now. i continued on, “i don’t know, dude. like, if he wanted me he would do something about it, yeah? he’d show me. he’d say something. he’d- he’d just do something. instead he just makes me feel crazy.”

i finished myself off with huff. i downed the rest of my drink and set it on a table close to us. both my fists leaned against ii’s shoulders. i was getting dizzy.

ii squeezed my hip in comfort. he waited a moment, for me to catch my breath, to respond. "it's difficult. being in our position. it's hard to tell who's getting close just to catch a peak. forcing everyone we care about to sign mountains of paperwork just to really know us. to trust that we can stay hidden, though the entire world is just itching to unmask us. i know you know that. i know you understand it. that’s part of the reason why we all get along with you so well. the pressures gone. we can be ourselves- no matter what our names are, what we look like. cause you just don’t care.

“i don’t!” i agreed, punching my fist lazily against ii’s shoulder. “i don’t care who you guys are! because you’re still the same to me. and i trust you. and i love you guys. and i just- but just, why can’t he want me?”

he chuckled, “oh, darling. he does. you know he does. and you know the risk, you know the worry. you push it away because it’s not going to be easy. put your pretty little head to rest. just…let it happen as it happens.”

“i think i’m too drunk to really understand this right now, babe,” i droned on, eyes squinted as if i could understand him better with a blurred gaze.

ii tapped my nose sweetly. he stepped back, glancing over to vessel. “just let it.”

i met vessel’s gaze- invisible to me, but so obvious from the burn on my skin. he stood from his seat, hesitant, yet somehow determined.

i felt my body pulled towards him. we met in the middle. some stupid country song was playing. the bad was emptying. our friends were loud. my breath smelled of alcohol. vessel seemed exhausted.

but, for some reason, this was the night that it would happen.

vessel held out a hand, skin pale yet still stained from the paint. i took it. he waited a moment, as if awaiting my consent. then he guided us to the backdoor of the bar. we were out in an alley, alone.

“i’m sorry, lovey,” he said, once he was settled on his heels in front of me.

i clutched his hand like an anchor. “for what?” my brows furrowed.

he brushed a thumb across my knuckles, “that it’s like this. i…i wish i could love you under different circumstances.”

the word passed by without a second thought, so easily spoken from his lips. i barely noticed it. “it’s okay…it’s-its not your fault, vess.”

“no, it’s just,” he ran his other hand overtop his hat, covering his hair just perfectly. “it’s just that i need you to know that. how i feel about you..” now he danced around the word, “because i need you to know that…but…i can’t go forward with any of it. i can’t follow through with it. and i’m so sorry. i just…can’t.”

i slid my hand up to his cheek. he nearly crumbled under my touch. my fingers touched the edge of his sunglasses. he didn’t move. he didn’t try to stop me as i slid the glasses off his nose. i knew those eyes well- i was grateful to see them, even in this dark lighting. i could read him better, i could see his soul.

“i’ll sign whatever you want me to sign.”

the words lingered between us as he processed them. then, he denied them, “lovey…i-“

“i’ll sign a million nda’s. i’ll sign away my life. i’ll- i’ll delete all of my social media. and i’ll wear a mask, too. i’ll step into the darkness with you, vess. i’d do it. i want to do it.”

“lovey, please, i can’t-“

“i can. if you can’t, i can. i can for the both of us.”

vessel dropped his chin, looking away from me. “i can’t ask you to do that for me. beside, you- you don’t even know what i look like. i’m- i’m probably not what you’d want. you can’t love someone you think is ugly. i don’t know, lovey.”

“i do know, vess,” i quickly replied. “i know. i know you. i know your soul. it doesn’t matter to me what you look like, or who you are. cause i know your heart. and that’s all that matters to me. besides, i can’t go on hiding- knowing that we love each other. i just can’t. i won’t allow it.”

vessel met my eyes again. he removed his hand from my own. his hand hung by his thigh, clenching into a fist. it shook. i was worried he’d walk away.

but, after his hesitation softened, he reached his hands up to his face. he tugged the medical mask off of his ears, revealing his familiar lips and smile to me. his nose was new, a feature i’d never seen. but, it was just a nose.

he took off his hat, too, revealing his entire complexion to me. i grinned in response, barely even getting a good luck at him because i really didn’t care.

“that changed nothing for me,” i grasped at his hands. “i feel the same. i feel- the same. maybe better, knowing that you trust me. but- the same. i still want you- i need you, vess…please. i know you need me, too. i’ve always seen it in your eyes. just…take a chance. come out of the darkness…for me. please.”

vessel slid his hands up my arms, slowly, brushing my hair over my shoulders as he passed. his fingertips tickled my neck, the lobes of my ears, until he cupped my cheeks. i leaned into his touch, eyes alight with abounding adoration. he tilted his head down, brilliantly colored eyes boring into my own.

and then he kissed me.

#sleep token #sleep token x reader #sleep token x you #vessel x reader #sleep token!vessel x reader #fluff

[andsomemaniacgotridofthewheel]

Why is it always either

"Aziraphale wanted to go to heaven, he was happy and giddy about it, and he never really cared about Crowley anyway, only about Starmaker"

OR

"Aziraphale would have never ever gone to Heaven out of his own free will, he was clearly horribly threatened and forced!"

Why does everyone always have to reach for the extremes?

No, Aziraphale obviously absolutely did n.o.t. WANT to go to Heaven. He doesn't like Heaven, he likes Earth. Even if the other angels weren't all jerks and bullies, which he absolutely knows they are! I mean, duh!

But that doesn't automatically mean he would never have made that decision on his own! I liked the post from the health care worker who wrote that if they were suddenly offered the position of Minister of Health, they would just have to take it, even though they knew that they would be surrounded by awful people and end up fighting and probably losing an uphill battle, being absolutely miserable and frustrated. But they wouldn't be able to look at themselves in the mirror anymore if they didn't at least try. Because they'd feel they failed their duty to their patients.

Was there never anything you really REALLY did NOT want to do but still HAD to???

We absolutely do not need to talk about "Aziraphale not caring about Crowley" here, if that is actually something you really think, please just leave my blog. I don't even know what show were you watching, but it wasn't Good Omens.

Was Aziraphale threatened? Maybe. It's definitely possible. But I don't think so. The Metatron knew exactly what he had to offer, and in which order, to convince Aziraphale. Why unnecessarily antagonise him, he doesn't need to use the stick if he knows how to sell him on the carrot! I don't think the Metatron is that crude.

Which brings me to my next point:

people also seem to wonder about the shared look of contempt between the Metatron and Crowley.

But you realise that the Metatron was there when shit went down in Heaven, right? He knows what exactly it was that led to Crowley falling. Aziraphale might have been a soldier in the war back then, but it is extremely unlikely that in his position he actually witnessed the key moments that started the rebellion.

But the Metatron, the Voice of God, the angel with such a high rank that he is somehow actually outside their hirarchy, did. There might even have been a direct confrontation between the angel with questions and the VOICE OF GOD, who couldn't/wouldn't/didn't want to relate any answers.

And it is safe to assume that Crowley never told Aziraphale any details. In 1862 he still maintained the "sauntered vaguely downwards" fable, in line with his carefully built cool guy image. His drunken monologue after the bookshop fire comes a little closer to the truth ("looky here, it's Lucifer and the guys, [...] food hadn't been that good lately, I'd got nothing on for the rest of that afternoon"), but even here he very much pretends that he never really cared. Now that we have seen the innocence and enthusiasm of Starmaker, we know that's not true. Something big happened to that cheerful worriless angel, something not caused by the Fall, but causing it. The questioning was only the start of it.

There is a strong possibility that Crowley might even have tried to change things himself, back before the Fall, and most likely crashed and burned failed spectacularly. Again, all witnessed directly by the Metatron.

Aziraphale doesn't know that, though. He only has a vague idea about it and a sense of injustice and unfairness. And the Metatron, master-manipulator and -mind, knows that as well.

He also knows that, on the surface obedient but covertly subversive, little soldier angel Aziraphale, probably a lot better than Aziraphale is aware he does. They probably never had any close contact, but who knows what kind of research Heaven can do?

We don't need to go into detail about how he manipulated Aziraphale, other people have done so already. But it is important to state that by offering explicitly the opportunity to change things in Heaven, he got Aziraphale's love for life on Earth and his desire to do good fighting for dominance within him. But he would never have been able to convince him to leave Crowley. So he solves the main conflict for Aziraphale, telling him he could take Crowley with him! Definitely knowing that Crowley absolutely would NOT want that. Awful conundrum avoided!

I am not even saying that Aziraphale didn't know he was manipulated. He didn't know that Crowley's reaction to going to Heaven would be that severe, and he probably also doesn't know that the Metatron very well did, when he made him the offer. But he might have absolutely caught on to the Metatrons manipulating language, his ingratiating and patronising. But still - the opportunity to change things! To actually make Heaven better! Maybe he really did misjudge him! (Let's not forget that Aziraphale's previous experience with the Metatron was a 2-minute-conversation, why should it be so impossible that he changed his mind for the better since then?)

And then all this culminated - aided by millennia of little miscommunications and THE worst timing e.v.e.r. (I am actually more suspicious of Nina & Maggie's role in the whole thing, because there is so much that doesn't make sense about their little pep talk) - in the Final Fifteen. Crowley reacting differently to his news than he thought. Then offering the ONE thing he wants most in the world. But to get it, he would have to say to himself "yeah I WANT this and I'll take it even if Heaven stays the way it is, that's not my problem", and all that in the space of just a few minutes. Putting him on the spot.

Can't you see how "you go too fast for me"-after-being-at-it-for-almost-6000-years-Aziraphale was completely thrown by everything? Didn't you see how close he came to changing his mind after Crowley walked out? Are we sure he wouldn't have, if the Metatron hadn't been there immediately to usher him to his new duty? How is an angel supposed to calm down, think it through, and look at the problem from every possible angle under these circumstances? Having the choice between betraying everything you are to get everything you ever wanted, or losing everything that is dear to you but having done the right thing, and you don't even get a minute?

Again, we have one Fallen Angel who has a most likely violent experience trying to change Heaven. And another Angel who hasn't had the chance to try yet. Of course they're not on the same page. But they also don't really have time to compare notes. Your exactly means something different than my exactly.

And one more thing: Aziraphale's "I forgive you" is a direct callback to their bandstand break-up. He desperately wants this blow-up to be temporary, to end well like the other time. It's the first thing he can think of. It's his way of saying "maybe later", "I can't, not yet", or even "wait for me".

And Crowley knows that, he isn't hurt or offended because he thinks Aziraphale believes he needs forgiveness, he understands perfectly well what his angel is saying. Which is why it is his "don't bother" that breaks my heart. Because that means he (thinks he) is done waiting. He can't do it anymore. He finally put himself out there and his angel still isn't ready. So he's stepping out of their little dance routine.

Yes, Aziraphale walked out the door. But Crowley closed it after him.

#aziraphale #the final fifteen #final fifteen #ineffable divorce #good omens #good omens 2 #the metatron #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #ineffable dumbasses #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable spouses #ineffable partners #ineffable duo #good omens aziraphale #good omens metatron #az fell #crowley #good omens season 2 #good omens s2 #good omens show #good omens tv show #good omens analysis #good omens meta #air and gravity #aziraphale defense squad #nikku.txt #nikku's posts

[myers-meadow]

An orange and a knife (Halsin x Tav)

Title: An orange and a knife

Pairing: Halsin x (named) Tav

Summary: You share an orange together. Twice. Or: Your adoration of Halsin grows by the day, but acceptance of those feelings is a whole different beast entirely. One night, they burst to the surface, and you can hide them no longer. Maybe you won't have to.

Warnings: none, all ages; pining, yearning, complicated feelings, happy end. First person pov. An exploration of emotions and how I wouldn't be able to take living close to Halsin as I'd just implode from adoration.

Wordcount: 1459

Please reblog or comment if you enjoyed! Have fun reading! <3 Dividers by@saradika-graphics.

I sank down on the log by the fire, plate and knife in one hand, a big orange in the other. Gale had it left over from somewhere and I gladly took it off his hands. Most of the companions had already retired to their tents, to read, to meditate, to sort out food for the next morning and the journey ahead. Karlach and Halsin were left, wrapped in conversation and I sat my ass down next to Halsin, who immediately scooted over once he spotted me coming. 

"Ay girl, did you borrow that dagger from Astarion?" Karlach joked, pointing to the overly large knife in my hand. They all knew I wasn't a fighter, and I didn't tend to carry weapons, so her guess wasn't a bad one.

"No, actually," I said, going along with the joke. "Wyll lent it to me."

She and Halsin laughed. I laid the plate down on my lap, holding the orange as i sliced off the ends. Halsin leaned back, turning towards me, to allow me to join conversation. Before I came, they'd been discussing Karlach's new ability to touch people, and from the looks of things, they got along swimmingly. My heart swelled at Karlach's joy as Dammon installed the new part earlier that day. Absentmindedly, I cut the orange in thick slices, then cut them in the lenght to eat from the rind.

"You want some?" I held out the plate to them both, leaning against Halsin's arm to reach Karlach, fingers dripping with juice.

"Thanks, soldier!"

Halsin laughed, in that way he sometimes did, somewhat quietly, when he had a joke to himself, or was just too polite to say what was on his mind, but he took a piece anyway. I didn't comment on it, too busy with my first piece, having looked forward to the orange as dessert ever since Gale mentioned the fruit in the morning, hoping no one else got their hands on it before me, fingers sticky, teeth digging in the soft, stringy flesh, sweetness filling my mouth. Moments like these were what kept me sane throughout all this. I realised I was sucking away on my third slice, before coming to my senses and passing the plate along again.

"Have more, please." My cheeks grew hot, hoping I hadn't ruined the romantic tension between them. "Please don't mind me."

Halsin sucked off his fingers and I tried not to look at it for too long, afraid my hunger would show - just as these two were getting along so well. "We were talking about what Karlach wants to do now that she can touch others again."

"And all thanks to you!" she beamed, reaching over for another slice.

"Dammon is a treasure," I said and handed the last piece to Halsin, moving to stand again to clean the plate and knife. "It's getting late, I'll leave you two to it, goodnight, loves! Have fun!"

The next night, Halsin tended to my wounds before I could seek out Shadowheart. Gale was cooking something delicious-smelling back at the heart of camp, and most retreated to do their own thing before dinner. We sat at Halsin's tent at the edge of the light. It was a relief to be back around him, surrounded by his warmth, his smell, the herbs he dries in his tent, the small pots of salves and potions he keeps on hand.

"Let me come with you, tomorrow," he said, voice soft, the healing spell sizzling out, the last of the blue glow fading. "You've been taking hits like you're Karlach, but you're a spellcaster. You should stay back more, like Astarion."

"I try, I just always happen to be-" a gasp left my lips as Halsin rubbed the bruise on my leg with a warm hand, to see if he was done yet, "right there in the middle of it."

He slid my skirt up to see how bad it was, his fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake, but not from cold. He dipped his fingers in one of his healing salves. "The cultists really don't like you much."

I covered his hand with mine. "I'd be glad to have you by my side tomorrow."

After a particularly rough day of adventuring later that week, my dear companions elected to have me stay at camp. Karlach was overjoyed to join Wyll, Shadowheart and Astarion anyway, so it was a win-win for many. Camp was rather quiet. The hours passed agonisingly slowly, especially as most companions seemed to have their own routines, and no need for company. Sometime before midday I found myself by Halsin's tent. He went out the day before to forage for herbs, and was hanging it all to dry, tying them into bundles with lenghts of string. Movements practiced, it was hypnotising to watch him. Large hands that still had such nimble fingers.

"Did you come here just to stare at me?" His voice startled me. From the way he eyed me, it felt like he was aware of my amorous intentions.

I hummed. "I've never spent the entire day at camp before."

"That doesn't answer my question." His tone was light.

"I'd like to stare, if you'll allow me," I said, eventually. He smiled. His hazel eyes glowed. 

"You're welcome to stay, as long as you have desire for my company."

So I stayed, enjoying the easy conversation, the sun on my face, and fell deeper and deeper in love with him.

No matter how much I tried resisting my feelings, every time I caught a glance of Halsin across camp, a terrible wave of adoration washed over me. The amount of times that Gale got upset when my attention slipped was more than I'd like to admit. With the adoration, came the jealousy. It was foreign to me before, but when Karlach would nestle close to Halsin, the pangs of it were heavy in my stomach.

One night, Halsin sank down next to me, orange and knife in hand, my heart leapt at the sight of him.

"Here, you like oranges, right?"

"You remembered."

"And I remember how terribly awkward you cut it. Here, let me show you an easier way." Halsin angled towards me so much that our knees were touching, and I could see only him, the rest of camp reduced to vague shapes in the dark, the fire behind him illuminating his hair, laying harsh shadows on his face. Beauty. He laughed softly in much the same way as back then, when we shared the orange for the first time. "It'd help if you'd actually pay attention to what I'm doing."

I hummed, but did as he said. Instead of cutting slices, he divided the whole orange into parts, to eat from the rind in a much more effective manner. The knife dripped with juice when he wasn't even halfway done. I ate as he cut, as he didn't bring a plate to put them on. With sweetened lips, I thanked him. "You're right, this makes a lot of sense. Thank you."

He smiled warmly and I almost had to avoid his eyes with the overwhelm of emotion. "Gladly. Frankly, I've never seen anyone cut fruit that clumsily."

I laughed. "Well, I just love to surprise people."

We shared the rest of the orange, in this comfortable bubble of this shared experience. As I was done with my pieces, and Halsin took his last bite before discarding the peel, the juice glistening in the firelight - in an impulse I reached up and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Immediately, regret drowned out all other thoughts.

"Fuck, Halsin, I'm sorry-"

Seeing my panicked expression, and not caring for how sticky his hands were, he cupped my cheek and kissed me fervently. The sweet citrus mixed with the tobacco he smoked earlier that evening, warm, heady, delicious. Tingles set me alight as though hit by a lightning arrow. In the distance, somewhere, Karlach cheered, and the others didn't remain silent either. It didn't really process - there was only the sensation of his lips against mine, lingering even after he pulled back. Halsin rested his forehead against mine. Somehow my fist was balled into his shirt, and I let go slowly, smoothing out the fabric.

"You've no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he breathed, his voice quiet and heavy with emotion.

"Since the moment-" I swallowed thickly, refusing to look at him still, "we met, amidst the goblin guts."

A laugh rumbled from his chest. He pulled me into him for the best hug of my life and happily I sank into him, heart fluttering lighter than ever before. "Then we have a lot to catch up on."

#halsin #halsin silverbough #halsin x tav #balders gate 3 #halsin baldur's gate 3 #halsin x reader #halsin bg3 #bg3 halsin #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #halsin silverbough x tav #tav #meadow's writing