I don’t think people realize how much of an impact this kind of support can have, I don’t think everyone knows what these little things can mean to us.
It may just be me, I don’t know. But every single time I see this on my dash or on someone’s blog or anywhere else, I kind of just breathe a sigh of relief. That’s one more person who cares. That’s one more person who doesn’t hate me.
Because it means so much, especially when all the media is spewing out is that I’m a terrible person and no one wants people like me near them. It means so much because I’m tired of people who won’t sit next to me in class, or who choose to join the longer line at the grocery store because they don’t want to be beside me and my family. It means so much when I have to lift my head any time someone says the words Islam or Muslim because I’m scared that they’ll say something that’ll hurt, when I have to pay attention to the news because who knows what so and so is saying now, who knows which of my people are being attacked now, who knows what’s going to happen to me now.
It means so much because I’ve been given the idea that the world is against me. And a huge part of it may be, but at least I’ve been reminded that some of it, just a small group of people, acknowledges that I’m a person too. That people like me are just that, people.
Maybe it’s just me, I don’t know. But now you do, so thank you for believing that I’m human when so many people don’t.
Have a great day x
Go unfollow this blog all you want, I am reblogging this.
I am aware this does not follow this blog’s style, however, I find it necessary to reblog this
Not art, but super important
definitely not crying–
If you don’t support Muslims then get off my blog. I am a Muslim. If you don’t support us, get off my blog and I never want to see on it again
Neredia boredly watched the knights train for the day, tapping her finger against her temple, shaking her head at the boorish grunts.
“You, your highness, are bored,” her brother noted with a knowing grin causing the whole party to turn to her.
“The plumeless peacocks have very little in the way of carrying themselves, both in battle and out of it,” she replied with a roll of her eyes.
“Her highness thinks she can do better?” her younger brother’s eyes glowed with mischief.
“I know I could do better,” she gave her brother a look.
“Then prove it,” Kasper insisted with a laugh, gesturing to the training ground, “prove to us how great of a swordsman you are.”
“I will,” she stood up indignantly and the fighting ceased, “gentleman, please continue,” she looked for a sword, weighing it in her hand as she hummed. As she decided upon a sword, Geralt and Jaskier crossed into the ring. “Ah, Witcher, join me,” she smirked at him.
“I think that is not a good idea, your highness,” he huffed and crossed his arms, “I’ve been training with swords longer than you’ve been alive.”
“Is that a challenge?” she arched her brow at him, “sounds like a challenge you have to partake in to know if it’s true,” she tilted her head to the side, “come,” she nodded.
“I prefer to do my sword fights without the gazing eyes of many,” he gave her a look.
Nereida humphed before picking a knight out of the crowd to practice with.
As the princess beat him for the fifth time, Geralt chuckled approvingly from the side with a shake of his head before disappearing into the woods.
The princess caught sight and nodded before going after Geralt, following through the thicket of trees. She froze a few feet away as they came to stand in a clearing of the forest.
“I knew you’d follow me,” he turned to her, “you didn’t mention you were so skilled with swords,” he nodded to the blade in Nereida’s hand.
She laughed breathily as she examined the sword, “you never asked, nor have you ever given me the chance to show you,” she told him with a knowing smile, “so how can I prove it to you?”
“Prove it to me now,” he took his sword out.
“You’re going to let me cross blades with the famous White Wolf?” she asked smugly
Geralt hummed in approval and looked at him, “only I’ll let you live after I beat you,” he shrugged.
“I see one flaw in your plan,” she stepped closer to him.
“And what is that?” he asked in a low voice, golden eyes boring into her blue ones.
She smirked as she hit the blades together, backing away, “you have to beat me first,” she laughed.
Geralt looked at her with a glare, crossing their swords with the first swing, “and if I lose?” he grunted.
“You owe me a kiss,” she laughed as she ducked below his sword, “and what if I lose?”
“You owe me a kiss,” he shook his head with his gruff voice, “seems like a fair trade off,” he challenged.
“I don’t know, seems sort of suspicious for us to ask for the same thing,” she parried forward as he made his way back, “I may have to reconsider my award.”
“Do you talk as a rule while fighting?” he swung , but just so delayed for her to duck behind a tree, “or am I just lucky?” he swung at her again only to miss once more.
“Is my conversation not enlightening enough for you?” she teased as she made a jab at him.
Sucking backward, Geralt gave her a look, “Princess, your voice is very distracting,” he tested, ducking beneath her swing. He slung his sword into his other hand, using that as momentum to swing around to her again.
“Is it? I thought I was annoying,” she referred to one of his adjectives he used earlier in their relationship, backing him to a tree.
“I don’t recall saying that last night,” he smirked which caused her to falter. He used that to his advantage and backed her into the clearing.
She laughed and fought back just as hard as she regained her footing, “you know, Geralt, I do look forward to my victory kiss,” she teased, but ducked from a blow.
He barked a laugh, switching hands once more and swung, only to come face to face with her, sword drawn up to his chest, but his in the same position. “Here is something we didn’t didn’t discuss..”
“What was that?” she panted against his face, eyes scanning his face for a hint of what he was about to refer to.
“What if we tied?” he hummed as he dropped his sword to his side.
“Well, that is quite the predicament we’ve put ourselves in,” she dropped hers as well. “I think we should decide who wins in a different way,” she stepped closer to him.
“Hmm, I hope you’re ready to lose in hand-to-hand combat,” he replied dryly.
“Oh, no,” she shook her head, “I was thinking something like this,” she pulled him in for a kiss.
Geralt pulled her close to his chest, dropping his sword, hers following suit and clanged together. He picked her up by the thighs carrying her and pinning her against a tree, “you’re going to have to be quiet if we do it here,” he grunted against her lips.
“I knew it!” Jaskier cheered, “Kasper, you owe me 40 Florens,” he laughed victoriously.
“Jaskier,” Geralt growled as he sat Neredia down, “can you not be irksome somewhere else?”
“Geralt, this all could have been avoided had you just told me where you slept last night,” the bard reasoned with a knowing smile.
“If you wanted to know, you should have asked someone besides the least talkative man in court,” Nereida smiled over Geralt’s shoulder.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Kasper looked at his sister betrayed.
“I do not expect you to tell me everything that happens in your life, nor should it be reversed,” she shook her head, “it’s my business.”
Geralt clenched his jaw as he looked at the other two men, “and you took bets on it.” “Oh no, no, no, no,” Jaskier shook his head with a laugh, “we took bets on if you two would get together or be too stubborn to admit it.”
Geralt watched Nereida’s chest rise and fall as she slept. The night before playing over in his mind. Not only had Yennefer returned, he almost lost the woman who lay before him. He reached out to gently trace the red line that fell down her neck from the mage ripping the pendant away. He couldn’t help but feel the guilt that rushed over him, if Nereida had succeeded last night, her death would have been on his hands. The feelings that whirled around inside of him had never been so strong; anger, guilt, and most of all sadness. The witcher absentmindedly rubbed her neck as he thought about how to deal with the mess he had made.
“Good morning,” a soft voice called out to him over the sea of his thoughts, his eyes came down to meet hers.
“Good morning,” he laid his forehead against hers as he kept rubbing the side of her neck. They lay in silence for a few moments before he spoke again, “Rei, I can’t apologize enough,” he pulled back to stare at her, “everything that transpired was my fault. If I had been honest with everyone-”
“Geralt,” she said gently as she reached for his cheek, “I’m going to ask you one thing and then we can move on from it.”
“What is it?” he asked.
“Do you still love her?”
He looked at her and pulled her close again, “after knowing you, I think it’s impossible to love anyone that isn’t you,” he told her earnestly.
“That is all I need to know,” she mumbled and curled up into him, grabbing onto him tightly, “after all, it is I who should be apologizing for last night.”
“No,” he muttered, “not at all, the place you were in-” he licked his lips, “it was an accumulation of things and there was nothing that happened yesterday that helped that. Even immortal princesses have a breaking point. You just reached yours, dove,” he muttered softly.
A knock echoed through her room and they both sat up quickly. Geralt took off to the bathroom to hide as Nereida pulled on her robe and answered the door.
“Good,” Kasper entered the room, “you’re awake.” “Come in, why don’t you?” she said dryly as he passed by her, “to what do I owe the pleasure?” “What were you doing past the palace walls yesterday?” he asked as he looked around her room.
“Am I not allowed to leave? Am I a captive now?”
“You could have died,” he snapped, “when are you going to learn that the world we live in is not a game?”
“The world we live in is nothing but a game,” she shouted at him, “you use me as a pawn in your game of politics day after day. If I choose to go by the sea and contemplate drifting away it is because you and Aleksander have left me with no one.”
“No one? Are we no one to you?” he asked.
“It’s not that,” she rubbed her face, “but I have been left with no choice in my affairs for so long. I would like to be free to make my own decisions, my own mistakes.” “Rei,” he crossed to her, “I know neither I or Aleks have been easy on you, but we only want what’s best for you,” he grabbed her arms.
“Do you truly believe that or is that something you tell yourself to help you sleep at night?” she glowered at him, “because it seems to me, if you truly wanted what is best for me, you wouldn’t be trying to ship me off to the highest bidder,” she countered.
“Rei-”
“No,” she cut him off, “that’s exactly what you’re doing,” she protested, “I don’t ask for much. But, what I do ask is that you respect me as much as you Aleksander,” she pleaded.
Kasper sighed as he looked at her, “you’re right, forgive me,” he nodded. “You just worry me,” he grabbed her shoulders, “and I know you can take care of yourself, “it just- you’re my sister and I care so deeply for you.”
“I know,” she mumbled happily.
After breakfast that morning, Geralt and Nereida set out to find Yennefer. The princess couldn’t help the anxiety that rushed over her body like a mighty wave. He stole a glance in her direction and grabbed her hand, a rare display of affection out in the open. The gesture was not unappreciated as she tightly gripped his hand.
She took in a sharp breath as they stepped into the gardens, “this is it, this is where she was yesterday,” she murmured.
“Hey,” Geralt looked at her, “it’s okay, I’m right here.”
“You’re not going anywhere?” she asked him.
He shook his head, “wouldn’t dream of it.”
“You really shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep,” the mage appeared before them.
Geralt tilted his head to the side, “Yennefer,” he growled, “what the fuck are you doing here?”
“You know I expected a warmer welcome from you, Geralt,” she sneered, “seeing as how we’re bound together and all.”
“I did it to save your life,” he countered.
“That was your first mistake,” she replied without skipping a beat, tossing his pendant at him, “your second was coming here,” she told him.
“Because I moved on from your tormentous hold?” he caught it and handed it to Nereida, “you have no right.”
“I have every right, you’re the one who used the last wish on me, not a princess,” she looked at him, “you know magic like I do.”
“And I also know I can break it,” he let his power flow to the tips of his fingers, “one rune from me and we’re parted.”
Yennefer laughed humorlessly, “but do you really want that? Wouldn’t you rather be out in the real world with me, rather than this pimped up marketplace, selling prized possessions off to gain favors?”
Nereida licked her lips nervously, she did make all the right points. Monsters in Cidaris would eventually dry up, what would happen then? Would he leave her?
“Rather that, than a prisoner to a woman who can’t love because she doesn’t love herself,” Geralt countered. “Now I will only say this once, I free you and you never come back here, is that clear?” he growled. “I am not yours to command or place a spell over. I do not do your bidding Yennefer of Vengerberg.”
She looked from him to Nereida, unwavering from his side, holding her head high. The mage looked back to Geralt, “fine then, free me. But you know where to find me when you tire of this pretender.”
With the sigil drawn and the spell muttered, Yennefer was gone. Nereida puffed out a breath and all but collapsed. “Is she- Is she really gone?” she asked him.
“For now, until she seeks more chaotic attention,” he turned to her, “are you okay?” he asked.
“You just broke off a spell of djinn with the woman you spent years loving and you’re asking me if I’m okay?” she asked incredulously.
“Yes, because I fully believe she would have killed you last night,” he took the pendant and draped it around her neck again, “had you not been wearing this.”
“Besides it being yours, what makes this so special?”
A gruff laugh came from his throat, “I might have enchanted it with the protection spell of the Witchers before I placed it on you. Mainly because you are so stubborn and insist on going out in that forest for even the smallest of your subjects.”
She laughed and reached out to trace down his cheek, “I love you Geralt of Rivia,” she muttered before kissing him softly.
Steve had found Y/N by happenstance, but never would have had it any other way. She was the bright light on his stormy days and the beacon when he found himself too lost in his troubles. She made him extraordinarily happy. So much so that when he found her baking in the kitchen, dancing with her music he couldn’t help but grin ear to ear. He crossed behind her and wrapped his arms securely around her, singing along softly in her ear.
Put your head on my shoulder
Hold me in your arms, baby
Squeeze me oh so tight
Show me that you love me too
Y/N laughed as she swayed with him, “you sir are baiting me,” she teased as she mixed the batter.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he chuckled softly.
“You always do this when I’m baking,” she whined with a laugh. “You come in being all charming and affectionate, just so you can steal something that I’m baking. I know you’re game, Mr. Rogers.”
“What if I just want to love you?” he murmured, kissing her ear, “you’re in here, looking adorable with this irresistible song playing.”
She smiled and looked over at him, “what makes this song so irresistible?” she teased softly.
Put your lips next to mine, dear
Won’t you kiss me once, baby
Just a kiss goodnight, maybe
You and I will fall in love
(You and I will fall in love)
“Oh I don’t know,” he laughed, “maybe it’s the fact that this was the song we danced to on our first date,” he kissed her neck, “or that I made sure it was playing the first time I told you I loved you,” he kissed her neck again, “or that it was our first dance at our wedding,” he hummed as he grabbed her by the waist, spinning her around to face him, “any of those ring a bell?”
“Maybe a few,” she laughed and rubbed his cheek, “it’s on every playlist I have,” she told him.
“It makes me want to dance with you,” he took the spoon out of her hand and set it in the bowl before grabbing her by the hips again.
People say that love’s a game
A game you just can’t win
If there’s a way
I’ll find it someday
And then this fool will rush in
He pulled her to the center of the kitchen, wrapping her up in his arms as they began to slow dance on the tile.
“How do I get anything done with you?” she teased with a soft smile as she leaned her forehead against his.
“At a snail’s pace,” he chuckled and kissed her nose, “but you wouldn’t have it any other way.” “You got that right,” she giggled happily.
Put your head on my shoulder
Whisper in my ear, baby
Words I want to hear
Tell me, tell me that you love me too
(Tell me that you love me too)
“What are you baking for anyway?” he asked as the oven sounded the preheat alarm.
“Bucky’s birthday,” she laughed, “I promised him I would make brookies,” she told him as the song came to a close. “Don’t tell me you forgot your best pal’s big day,” she teased.
“Oh I didn’t. I came in here to ask if i could lick the spoon, but our song was playing and I couldn’t resist,” he swayed her slightly.
Put your head on my shoulder
Whisper in my ear, baby
Words I want to hear, baby
Put your head on my shoulder
She made a face, “I already promised the spoon to Sam…”
“How dare you,” he picked her up and held her tight, “that’s my spoon.”
“I’ll let you lick something else if you behave,” she muttered, booping his nose softly.
“I hope to god it’s the bowl,” Bucky came into the kitchen, “and if it’s not, take it somewhere else that isn’t the compound.”
Y/N looked at Loki, she felt he needed help and for him, she was convenient. She trusted him more than anyone and she never would have thought she’d have no reason to trust him. Not that she knew what he had done or what he was, so who was she not to give him a chance.
Loki stared down the woman before him as she mulled over helping him. He was a stranger after all, of course he could just enchant her, but he felt that wasn’t entirely necessary. She didn’t know who he was and that’s what made her easy. Easy to manipulate like a puppet on a string.
All that drama, drama
Can make you wanna, wanna
Lock your door and throw the key and
Hide away where you’re safe
Where your heart doesn’t break
You’re afraid, it’s okay, it’s okay
To say Loki was on edge would be an understatement, he checked the curtains every few minutes, just to see if he was being followed. He couldn’t tell if Y/N noticed and didn’t care or if she was oblivious.
“Are you expecting someone?” her question answered his own. Turning to her, she sat on the couch with a book in her hand, “or did I invite a murderer into my house?”
He knew it to be a joke, but there was still a part of him that jumped like a scared little boy at the possibility of being caught. “I’m just tired of being here, do you ever leave when it’s not for work?”
“No one is keeping you here,” she pointed out to him, “I took you in because I wanted to help, not because I had to. You’ve been here two months, but there’s the door,” she gestured impatiently before going back to her book.
Loki ran his tongue over his lips as he broke out in a smirk, someone who wasn’t afraid to talk back to him.
Everybody’s scared so dance in the dark
Da-dance in the dark, da-dance in the dark
Party with your fears, da-dance in the dark
Da-dance with the dark, da-dance in the dark
Y/N rushed to the guest room as she heard shouts of protest, all but breaking down the door to get to Loki. “Loki,” she shook him awake, “it’s okay! You’re okay,” she rubbed his arm.
He panted as he came to, eyes wildly scanning his surroundings, “Y/N?” he asked as his gaze landed on her.
“It’s me,” she told him calmly, “what happened?”
“I-” he looked at her and shook his head, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“It’s okay,” she assured him, hesitantly reaching out to caress his cheek, “but, if you do, I’m here,” she promised.
His hand shot out to grab her wrist as she went to pull away, “stay, please.”
Everybody’s scared so dance in the dark
Make, make it an art, da-dance in the dark (dance in the dark)
Party with your fears, da-dance in the dark
Da-dance with the dark, da-dance in the dark (dance in the dark)
Almost a year had passed and the affection Loki had grown for Y/N was almost unimaginable. He came to look forward to her bright smile that greeted him each morning, adoring the sound of her laugh at one of his jokes. But, if he was being honest with himself he knew he was scared of her finding out about his past and how she would see him after she knew. He had thought about telling her so many times, but he just couldn’t so he stayed silent.
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, oh
Da-dance in the dark, da-dance in the dark
Loki kissed along her neck, a small gasp leaving her mouth as she fell back against him. Her chest rose and fell as he ran his slender fingers up her body. “I need you,” he whispered in her ear.
“We really shouldn’t,” came her response as the bass of the club still bounced through their bodies even in the secluded back area.
“But do you want to?” he twisted her to face him, eyes dark with arousal, “come dance with me,” he beckoned her further away from the crowds, a smirk on his face.
Can’t keep it bottled
Pain is hard to swallow
You cross your heart without bleedin’
Hide away where you’re safe
Where your heart doesn’t break
You’re afraid, it’s okay, it’s okay
Y/N was on her way back to her home when she felt someone grab her, a hand clapped over her mouth before she could scream and put in a government car. “What is going on?” she demanded with wide eyes.
“How did you find him?” the agent asked her.
“Find who?” she looked around for answers.
“Loki,” he answered, “ the dangerous war criminal who has threatened our way of existing one too many times.”
She couldn’t help but laugh, “Loki, my Loki?” she asked incredulously, “there must be some mistake.”
“I’m afraid not,” he handed her a file, “feel free to look for yourself.”
“There’s no way,” she refused the file indignantly, “how would he be able to threaten ‘the way of existence’ as you so put it?”
“It’s all in here,” the man shook the file for emphasis.
“And who are you to tell me all of this? You abducted me from the street,” she rolled her eyes, “why should I believe you?”
“Because that ‘man’ is a Norse god,” he handed her his card, “New York, 2012, if you won’t trust me, at least look it up for yourself. When you do: give me a call. The name is Tyler Hayward.”
Everybody’s scared so dance in the dark
Da-dance in the dark, da-dance in the dark
Party with your fears, da-dance in the dark (oh)
Da-dance with the dark, da-dance in the dark (in the dark)
The truth was something that weighed on Y/N like a brick. She laid next to the man- the god she had come to love and she felt sick. One quick search on the internet told her that the agent hadn’t been making anything up. She pressed a hand to her chest, as if to stop her heart from racing. She knew what she had to do.
Sitting up, she pulled her hair back, pacing the room. Even the soft noises alerting Loki’s senses.
“Y/N?” he looked at her, “what is it?”
“I know about you and I have to do something about it.”
Everybody’s scared so dance in the dark
Make, make it an art, da-dance in the dark (dance in the dark)
Party with your fears, da-dance in the dark
“As it turns out- twisting his knife isn’t the only thing he’s good at,” she stared at him in disdain, void of any affection she carried for him.
“Y/N,” he looked at her.
“None of it was real, was it?” she looked at him, “just a game?”
“It may have started that way-”
She shook her head and grabbed her jacket, “I don’t care what you do with him,” she looked to the agents, “he wants to burn our world to the ground, then tear him apart.”
He looked at her in desperation, “Y/N” he pleaded in a whisper to her retreating form.
TW: discussions of sexual assault and suicide, do not interact if these are triggers
Suicide Hotline: 800-273-8255 & Sexual Assault Hotline: 800-656-4673
Y/N sat at her desk, sipping her coffee as she read over her files. She had been working nonstop on her case, trying to catch the serial rapist. She groaned as she heard the obnoxious Detective Fowler come into the office. Rubbing her temple she tried to block out the overpowering smell of his cologne as he came next to her.
“Looking for your next boyfriend?” he grabbed her chair and pulled her back.
“Fowler,” she sneered, “scare off the next girl you were going to fuck?” she rolled her eyes.
“Kinda hoping it would be you, Y/L/N,” he smirked.
She pushed against him, “no, now if you’re done being a jackass, I have a serial rapist on my hands,” she shook her head.
“Oh you didn’t hear? That case is getting closed.” “It’s what?” she demanded.
Marshall walked in as Fowler got up in Y/N’s face again, “what word can you not understand? Case or closed?”
“Why the fuck the case is getting closed, I have a living witness who has given me the first lead in months, the first one who was assaulted and lived to tell me about it? So tell me, Fowler, who gave you the authority?” she demanded.
“The fact that the chick was lying?” he sneered in her direction.
“How could you possibly know that?” Y/N demanded.
“C’mon, we all saw her,” he laughed and looked around at his colleagues.
Marshall came and stood by her side, “what does that mean, Fowler?”
Fowler looked at the superior officer, “Marshall, her file was thicker than some of the raps of the people we have in prison.”
“That doesn’t mean she made anything up, so I’ll ask again, what do you mean?” Walter crossed his arms over his chest.
“She came in, we sat down and talked, signed a retraction of her statement,” he laid the file on Y/N’s desk.
“Meaning you made her,” Y/N snarled as she looked at him, “this wasn’t your case to fuck with,” she shouted.
“Y/L/N, with me,” Marshall grabbed the files off her desk and tossed her jacket to her, “we’re gonna take a ride.”
She followed him from the precinct to his truck and looked at him, “where are we going?” she asked him.
“To talk to your only living witness.”
Marshall had never seen a cop who lived day to day with as much empathy as Y/N did. He stood in the corner, listening to the woman retell her story for what he could only imagine felt like the hundredth time.
“I really am sorry we have to go over this again,” Y/N took and grabbed her hand, “but I want you to know one thing: I believe you, and that is enough to keep this case open,” she promised the victim.
The woman took a look at Marshall and back to his female co-worker, “what about him? Why is he here?” she asked.
“Because no one should be silenced on what happened to them, no matter their history,” he told her, “Detective Y/L/N and I are not going to stop searching until we find the guy that did this to you,” he promised.
Day turned to evening, evening to night, and still Y/N and Marshall sat at their respective desks, mulling over file after file. She stood up and stretched, looking around. Spotting his light, she went and brewed a pot of coffee before bringing a mug to him, “figured you might want that,” she muttered, “you look as tired as I feel.”
“Thanks,” he muttered as he flipped through the pages on his desk, taking notes as he worked.
Y/N watched him work over her mug as she took a sip, “did you mean it?” she asked him suddenly.
The seasoned detective looked up at her, “what?”
“Are you really going to help me look for this guy? Not stop until he’s dead or behind bars?”
“Or both,” he promised her in so few words.
“You’re homicide, not rape, why help me?”
“Just like I said, every victim deserves to be believed, not to be cast off or forced into forgetting about it,” he sat his pen down and looked at her. “I just don’t know how you do it,” he told her.
“Do what?” it was her turn to question.
“How you work every case as if it’s personal, I mean, it’s as if it happened to you.”
“Because it did,” she answered him truthfully, “and everytime there’s a new file that pops up on my desk I treat it the way I wish someone would have treated mine. Just because the justice system failed me, doesn’t mean it should fail others.”
“I-I-”
“Don’t,” she shook her head, “what’s done, is done. But the more of these men I get off the street, that just means this won’t happen to someone else, someone else’s kid,” she stole a glance at the picture of him, Faye, and Lara, “I do it for those girls,” she nodded to the image.
Marshall followed her gaze and nodded, “that’s quite the motivation,” he looked back at her, “then let’s find this piece of shit.”
Y/N was putting on her vest as she stood stationed outside of the suspect’s house, tightening the straps. A confirmed victim on the inside made her realize that they needed to act quickly. She hurriedly checked her gun as Marshall watched her.
“We need to wait on SWAT,” he told her, “if he’s armed-”
“Then I am to,” she cut him off, “Marshall, he has encouraged all but one to suicide and I can’t risk that happening to her,” she shook her head, “not when I can save her.”
Marshall clenched his jaw and looked at her, “I’m coming with you.”
She stared at the suspect through the glass, rubbing her arms slightly. Harper came to stand by her side, “you did good work,” he nodded.
“With all respect sir, we nearly didn’t catch him, if it wasn’t for Marshall’s intervention of Fowler’s stupidity, this case would have been another statistic,” she told him.
“Yes,” he lowered his head slightly, “I was made aware of the situation, which is why Fowler is on suspension, and I’m giving you this,” he handed her a folder.
“Another case?” she looked at him, “what is it about this one that makes the Commissioner give it to me?”
“It’s your first case as lead detective, alongside Marshall of course,” he looked at her, “you’re a good detective and you’re a damn good outspoken individual who doesn’t let things fall to the wayside, in fact, I think this is long overdue.”
“This is still a man’s world, sir, I do my best just to make sure someone still hears the silenced voices,” she told him.
“Which is why I couldn’t have picked anyone better,” he headed to the door, “and Y/N, don’t bloody the perp up too much, he still has to go to trial.”
Y/N laughed and looked down at the files she was given, her new job details on top. She ran her hands over the file and looked back up at the man being interrogated on the other side of the mirror, shaking her head.
“If looks could kill,” Marshall announced his presence as he took Harper’s place beside her, “he would have been dead the moment you went into that house.”
“I will never understand anyone who chooses to alter lives with no remorse,” she clenched her jaw, “it just doesn’t make sense to me.”
“You got your orders I see,” he grabbed the file from her, “I guess that makes us partners now,” he looked at her.
“I bet every other detective is in mourning,” she tried to joke, which was well received.
“It also means I can ask you something now that I’m technically not your boss,” he looked at her.
“Which is what? How do I take my coffee?” she opened the door for them.
“Would you like to grab dinner with me?” he ignored her snide comment.
“As a date?” she asked.
“As whatever you feel comfortable with.”
“A new partner and a date all in one day with Walter Marshall, I must be dreaming,” she smiled.
Marshall shook his head with a small smile, “is that a yes?”
HAPPPPPPPPPPPY HAPPPPPY BIRTHDAY ASH!!!! Wishing you a beautiful day and sending you so much love and tons of hugs! Love you and wish I could be there to celebrate with you! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
Answer:
HBC party anyone? I love you sweet bean ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
Summary: August loves to gift his girl some creamy pie on her birthday.
Pairing: August Walker x Reader
Warnings: 18+, explicit smut, male!dom, fem!sub, spread eagle, handcuffs, use of toys, fingering, orgasm denial, squirting, edging, cunt slapping, slight degradation, chocking, multiple orgasms, vaginal penetration, cream pie, cum swallow, bodily fluids
A/N: Are you seeing those warnings? This is the filthiest smut fic I have ever written! Thanks to @agniavateira for listening to my ideas and providing with helpful pointers.
I wanted to add something witty and funny. But I’m speechless.
The jewelry slays me
@loricameback no him deep throating his finger to get it wet to get the ring on… JFC @nuggsmum
I don’t need your commentary @inkededucatednnerdy. I’m slowly dying here with the visual without your help
Just imagine him doing that to get his fingers wet right before he gets ready to use them on u….. the wet slurping, suckling noises he would make all the while starin u in the eyes….
I didn’t think this could escalate but it has….
I’m not even going to… nope
i can’t…
Another somersault.
I’m not sorry y’all. Not one bit. I’m so glad my reblog started this tonight…
IF IT HAS BEEN A VERY LONG DAY, YOU ARE ‘WEARY’. IF SOMEONE IS ACTING IN A WAY THAT MAKES YOU SUSPICIOUS, YOU ARE ‘WARY’.
ALL IN ‘DUE’ TIME, NOT ‘DO’ TIME
‘PER SE’ NOT ‘PER SAY’
THANK YOU
BREATHE - THE VERB FORM IN PRESENT TENSE
BREATH - THE NOUN FORM
THEY ARE NOT INTERCHANGEABLE
WANDER - TO WALK ABOUT AIMLESSLY
WONDER - TO THINK OF IN A DREAMLIKE AND/OR WISTFUL MANNER
THEY ARE NOT INTERCHANGEABLE (but one’s mind can wander)
DEFIANT - RESISTANT DEFINITE - CERTAIN
WANTON - DELIBERATE AND UNPROVOKED ACTION (ALSO AN ARCHAIC TERM FOR A PROMISCUOUS WOMAN)
WONTON - IT’S A DUMPLING THAT’S ALL IT IS IT’S A FUCKING DUMPLING
BAWL- TO SOB/CRY
BALL- A FUCKING BALL
YOU CANNOT “BALL” YOUR EYES OUT
AND FOR FUCK’S SAKE, IT’S NOT “SIKE”; IT’S “PSYCH”. AS IN “I PSYCHED YOU OUT”; BECAUSE YOU MOMENTARILY MADE SOMEONE BELIEVE SOMETHING THAT WASN’T TRUE.
THANK YOU.
*slams reblog*
IT’S ‘MIGHT AS WELL’. ‘MIND AS WELL’ DOES NOT MAKE GRAMMATICAL SENSE.
IT’S NOT ‘COULD OF’, THAT DOESN’T MAKE ANY SENSE WHATSOEVER. IT’S ‘COULD HAVE’. SAME APPLIES TO ‘SHOULD HAVE’.
And this is why my students look at me as though I’m the devil when I try to tell them that no i’m not lying this really is a thing
IT’S ‘COULDN’T CARE LESS’ NOT ‘COULD CARE LESS’ IF YOU COULD CARE LESS THAT MEANS YOU CARE
it’s ‘couldn’t care less’ not ‘could care less’ if you could care less that means you care ^Haiku^bot^0.4. Sometimes I do stupid things (but I have improved with syllables!). Beep-boop!
as a person whose native language isn’t English, I truly appreciate this
‘AFFECT’ IS THE ACTION. ‘EFFECT’ IS THE RESULT. SOMETHING DOESN’T ‘EFFECT’ YOU; IT ‘AFFECTS’ YOU. HOWEVER IT CAN HAVE AN EFFECT ON YOU.
It’s not delivery it’s digorno
Every time someone writes “ball your eyes out” I immediately picture a melon baller, just pop those suckers right out…
About affect and effect: have any of y'all heard of the raven technique it literally saved me
® A(ffect)=V(erb) E(ffect)=N(oun)
To put it simply
What you are doing is the affect what happened after you did the thing is the effect
I appreciate this post with all my soul, but as a child of the ‘80s, “sike” as a misspelling of “psych” became part of the playground vernacular 🤷♀️
YOU “POUR” SYRUP OVER PANCAKES.
YOU “PORE” OVER ANCIENT MANUSCRIPTS.
THE COFFEE THING IS STILL WRONG. A FREE COFFEE IS COMPLIMENTARY WITH AN ‘I’. COMPLEMENTARY COFFEE IS COFFEE THAT COMPLETES SOMETHING ELSE, LIKE A MEAL OR A DESSERT.
YOU “BARE YOUR SOUL,” YOU DON’T “BEARYOUR SOUL.”
A PERSON’S FACE CRUMPLES WHEN THEY’RE UNHAPPY, IT DOESN’T CRUMBLE. THEIR COMPOSURE MIGHT CRUMBLE, HOWEVER.
IT’S “HAVE ANOTHER THINK COMING,” NOT “ANOTHER THING.”
THE PAST TENSE OF TO LEAD IS LED, WITHOUT AN ‘A’.
YOU LOSE YOUR MIND OR YOUR KEYS OR WHATEVER, WITH ONE ‘O’. YOU DON’T LOOSE THEM. YOU MIGHT LOOSE DISASTER UPON THE WORLD, BUT IT’S UNUSUAL TO USE AS A VERB AND IT HAS A HARD (UNVOICED) ‘S’ SOUND SO YOU’LL KNOW IF IT’S THE ONE YOU MEAN.
IT’S “MAKE DO,” NOT “MAKE DUE.”
AFFECT CAN BE A NOUN, BUT IT’S PRONOUNCED DIFFERENTLY, WITH THE STRESS ON THE FIRST SYLLABLE, AND IT MEANS A CERTAIN KIND OF FEELING OR DEMEANOR.
EFFECT CAN BE A VERB, AS IN “TO EFFECT CHANGE,” BUT IT’S LESS COMMON. YOU AFFECTTHE THING THAT’S CHANGED; YOU EFFECTTHE TRANSFORMATION. IT WORKS THE SAME WAY AS IMPLEMENT.
If you can’t respect adults asking minors not to interact with adult content, then you are violating the very first rule of sex you’re so desperate to read about. CONSENT.
Not only can I confirm that I’ve never written anywhere close to fifteen one shots that are appropriate for minors, I can confirm that this makes me extremely uncomfortable and disgusted. What makes me furious, is the immature attitude and willful ignorance this child displays on their own writing.
This is not funny. This does not make you cool. This does not make you an adult. This makes you a collassal c*nt.
You should care that your stupidity could get an adult into legal trouble. You should care that this attitude is to harmful to others, both adults and minors. You should care.
The very fact that you choose to violate someone’s wishes just proves how you are too immature to be reading about sex which relies on consent, respect, and trust.
This makes me extremely uncomfortable. Willfully seeking out adult writer’s who have expressed discomfort of minors reading their material, and then making jokes about under 18 reading their material? It’s absolutely disgusting and very childish. This person’s age is showing.
In case you’re new around my blog then let this serve as a reminder that if you’re under the age of 18 I do not consent to you reading any of the explicit materials that I write. I do not want minors following me. If you are, unfollow me now.
Ifyou are under 18 unfollow me and do not interact with my work.
Respect me, respect my wishes and the wishes of my friends and partners.
I would add “please” but the example shown above made my stomach turn this morning, so no please, no thank you.
in average
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