#FUCKING LISTEN. MAYBE YOU COULD LEARN SOMETHING FOR ONCE IN YOUR DAMNED LIFE.

[stinkbeck]

there’s this really sweet polite girl who always thinks critically in class and for some reason, men just never take her seriously. like she says way smarter things than them on the regular, but they just assume because she tries to be kind and personable that she’s got nothing to offer or something.

#like wtf. why does every guy start rolling their eyes as soon as she starts talking #FUCKING LISTEN. MAYBE YOU COULD LEARN SOMETHING FOR ONCE IN YOUR DAMNED LIFE. #tbh these guys are kind of idiots lmao. there’s another student who speaks with an accent and they can’t restrain themselves from rolling #their eyes with her either. they just turn towards being patronizing with her bc she has like self-respect and an obvious tendency towards #harsh realities

[heliads]

there's things i want to say to you

No one on this earth can get under your skin quite like Lando Norris. It would take something insane for you to be able to move past that. Maybe realizing that Lando's crazy for you would do the trick.

masterlistT

You have one mission for this particular race weekend, one mission alone, and that is to not mess up. On the track, off the track. Don’t fuck it up. This isn’t unusual by any means– flying around corners and down straights at such tumultuous speeds typically means you aren’t angling to make any mistakes anyway, but this weekend in particular needs to be perfect.

Everyone’s on edge right now, not just you. This is the time of year when contracts start expiring, when what had seemed like a decent season might end up being your last. It’s all on the wire, and at last it’s occurring to you, and everyone else for that matter, that their entire career is up to whatever they do on the track.

You’ve already sat down with your PR manager several times to discuss how you should handle this weekend, as well as the next few weekends until you can get a contract renewal locked in. You have no reason to doubt your current team, you’ve been delivering the results as asked, but there’s always the small voice in the back of your head wondering if you haven’t been picking up on the warning signs. You’ve heard of drivers getting blindsided before. Why couldn’t it happen to you?

So yes, although you’ve been just fine since your last contract signing, drivers have been let go for smaller offenses. That’s why you need to be damn near perfect this weekend. If you get through this latest race with no mistakes and some good points, you’ll be just fine. Once you’ve signed to your team again, you can relax. Up until that time, though, your behavior needs to be as proper as you can make it.

You’ve been managing such a task pretty well this whole weekend. Thursday you were nervous but in control all throughout the interviews, Friday landed you some good practices, and you did well enough in Saturday’s qualifying that you have nothing to lose sleep over yet, at least. You just need to get through today, and then luck will be on your side even more than before.

The race will start in less than an hour; you’re wandering the grid in the throngs of other drivers and team principles and spectators. At some point soon, you’ll have to head over to listen to the usual bungling of the host country’s national anthem, but until then, you’re putting on a good face. Your PR manager is flashing you discreet thumbs up whenever you see her. Life is good.

You weave around the various cars, not so close that you’ll be accused of spying but just close enough that you could, you know, if you wanted to. No one minds getting a better idea of their opponents’ sidepod designs anyway. Above all else, you keep an eye out for camera crews; Martin Brundle’s here somewhere, interviewing some poor sap, and you’d like to keep out of his way lest he turn to questioning you instead. The guy’s got a knack for getting under anyone’s skin, you don’t much feel like an interrogation today.

In fact, you can see him right now, eagerly thrusting his microphone towards some hapless driver. You see the papaya cap first, then hear the grating voice, and– well, maybe you’ll drift a little closer than before, because watching Lando Norris get picked to pieces by Martin won’t be the worst start to your race morning after all.

In single-seater racing, everyone is your enemy. At the end of the day, it’s you versus all nineteen other drivers on the grid. This means that you should have no particular arch rival, but if you were going to hate someone more than anyone else like that, it would be Lando by a long shot.

He’s just infuriating, that’s all. It’s like racing with a kid, he never learned to grow up, and every time you have to talk to him, you walk away wishing you could throttle him. Lando annoys you to death, and worst of all, he’s quite aware of it and proud of it, too. Usually, you go out of your way to avoid being near him, but you can make out the displeased look on his face from here, and if Martin Brundle is tearing him to shreds, well, you’d like to hear that more than anything.

You casually adjust course so you’ll be passing behind Lando. It looks like nothing at all, just you trying to navigate the packed grid, but you can hear every word of the conversation happening between Martin and Lando now.

You can’t help but smile as you hear Martin questioning Lando.  “McLaren hasn’t had as good of a weekend so far as they’d like, I think,” Martin is saying, “What’s your strategy to turn that bit of bad luck around?”

Lando’s grin is frozen on his face like plastic. “Uh, we’ll definitely be gunning for whoever’s in front of us with everything we’ve got. Best strategy is to just go for it.”

Martin nods. You’re close enough now that you’re about to walk straight behind Lando, close enough that you swear Martin sees you just before he asks, “Anyone in particular that you’ll be going for?”

“Yeah,” Lando says, scratching his head absentmindedly, “Y/N L/N.”

Perfect timing. The cameraman quickly pans his camera between Lando’s deliverance of this answer to you, right over his shoulder like a devil. The worst part is that you genuinely don’t even think Lando knew you were there or planned it like that. He just likes throwing you under the bus for fun.

Martin chuckles– this must be the best thing for him all morning, really, drama like this gets him talked about like nothing else– and addresses his next question to you. “So, Y/N, what do you think about that?”

Lando turns around, evidently startled, but you just plaster on a smile. “He can try his best, but I won’t be letting anyone through today,” you tell Martin, and leave as soon as you can.

You can sense the cameras following you no matter how far away you go. Damn. And, as you walk further towards a group of your race engineers, you remember the most important part of your PR manager’s advice for this weekend:  avoiding trouble, not just putting on a good face. That hasn’t worked out so well for you now. You do very well in that race, but what the Internet focuses on the most in the days to come isn’t your result but endless gifs of your irritated face in the background of Lando’s interview when he says he’ll be targeting you.

It’s not the greatest, to say the least. So much for playing it cool before a contract is signed. Oh, PR’s going to have a holiday over this one. You’d almost be surprised with the speed at which they suggest a media activity to wipe the slate clean, except for the fact that they’ve probably been counting on you messing something up this weekend so they had to have backup plans. Always nice to be trusted, isn’t it?

The event actually isn’t that bad. They’ve gotten a good amount of you together for some manner of charity work/awareness raising/well intentioned propaganda nonsense. They love putting F1 drivers together on a program outside race week, like it’s some kind of proof they can point to when the press conferences seem more awkward than usual. See, they hang out all the time! Of course they like each other!

(They do not like each other. Not at all. Some do, but. Most are not some. You are not some.) 

Today, drivers will be in pairs, volunteering with children so motorsport can accrue a younger fanbase. Normally, you love events like this, the kids get so excited to talk to an actual live Formula One driver as if they’re typically just in display cases or something. Things will go wrong, fun times will be had, and your PR manager will ease off for a day or two provided that you do a good job. Not the worst thing in the world.

Usually, the organizers of such image-boosting nonsense at least try to put friends together. Quick camera cuts and a good deal of B-roll can only do so much to cover up the missed jokes, the cruel laughs. You’re with your teammate more often than not, a unified front, or else with one of the drivers you’re closer to. It’s easier that way. The smiles come more quickly.

That’s what you expect when you show up. Instead, you glance at the email telling you the place and the name and the time, and you see that you’ll be stationed with– no, no please– Lando. Lando Norris. Lando, the one boy you can’t stand more than anyone.

They know that. Of course they do. It is physically impossible to avoid that fact. As if you haven’t seen the YouTube compilations of terrible moments between the two of you, the Instagram posts with the hateful stares, the TikToks with captivating audios of every time you’ve slighted each other in the paddock or during interviews. You’re a bitch, he’s an ass, and neither of you get to be the good one coming out of those fights, but more often than not, it’s him.

There’s nothing you can do about it now. Causing a kerfuffle will only turn the organizers against you, and you refuse to show weakness in the face of British children, drivers or otherwise, so you keep your smile fake and your mouth shut. This is a good cause. You can hold your tongue for a few hours. The kids will, at least, appreciate it. Hopefully.

Lando’s already at your assigned station when you get there. He’s spinning aimlessly in one of the chairs they’ve given him, and you have to fight to hide your laugh at his rotation speed.

“Trying to train for G-Force, are you? I’m almost impressed with your dedication to the sport, Norris.”

Lando looks up with a start when you speak, and he hurriedly puts his feet down to stop his frenzied spinning. “You’re impressed with me? Glad to hear it.”

You roll your eyes, taking a seat on the chair next to him. “Oh, always. Do you know who put the two of us together on this activity? I want to have words with them.”

Lando snorts. “Not me, definitely. Whoever it is, they’re probably in witness protection at the moment. You look like you’re going to murder someone.”

“It might be you,” you tell him.

He groans. “Come off it. What have I even done to you? Can we not go without fighting for, like, five minutes?”

You scoff. “You’re the one who went after me on live television not three days ago.”

“Oh, you mean the interview with Brundle? That was so not my fault. He tries to trick you into going after other drivers, you know that.” Lando argues.

You arch a brow. “So he specifically tricked you into naming me as your first target? I didn’t know he operated at that level of mental warfare.”

Lando has the grace to look somewhat ashamed. “No. Uh. That may have been me.”

Thankfully, you’re interrupted by one of the event organizers coming in to tell you that the kids are arriving shortly. They pour in soon enough, about dozen children all thrilled to death about the fact that they actually get to talk to you and Lando. You’re soon distracted by the flood of questions directed towards you, ranging from kids wanting to know which drivers you’re best friends with to what superhero is your favorite.

You answer each question with equal solemnity, and before long you’re laughing with ease. You’re meant to be doing crafts and questions, so you help the kids make plastic beaded bracelets while you talk about the different colors of the flags and tyres. All in a day’s work.

Surprisingly, the fact that you have to do all of this with Lando right there beside you isn’t the worst thing in the world. He seems content to just watch you have fun with the kids with this weird, quiet smile on his face, and when everyone’s making their crafts, he’s bent over a project of his own, one that he refuses to let you so much as peek at.

At last, Lando straightens up and presents the finished product with a flourish. “It’s for you,” he says proudly, “Consider it a peace offering.”

You stare at it. He’s made a bracelet for you, complete with the same brightly colored beads that the other kids are using. Except, in the center, he’s spelled out a message—

You frown at him, confused. “This just says ‘driver.’”

“You are one,” Lando points out helpfully. 

There is a fight to not roll your eyes, and you are on the losing side. “Incredible.”

“I also made it in your team colors,” he says. He’s smiling at it. At you. Fondly.

It’s not an expression you usually associate with him, but you’re smiling too, aren’t you? You can’t seem to stop. It’s just— you’re here with him, and instead of fighting, he’s gone to the trouble of making you this. Your colors, your message. Fuck. 

You slip it onto your wrist before you can stop yourself. “Thank you.”

Lando’s grin broadens. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

You let out a frustrated huff. “You’ve ruined the moment. Stop having an agenda.”

“You’re still smiling despite my agenda,” Lando mentions. 

He’s unreal. It’s not as bad as before, though. Not that you’d tell him that much. 

Just in case he actually has ruined the brief moment of peace, Lando raises his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, then,” he says, “I’ll be better. Name one thing I can do to make this easier on you and I’ll get it done in a heartbeat.”

He’s expecting you to tell him there’s nothing he can do to improve himself in your eyes. It’ll make him seem like the bigger person and he’ll have the upper hand, then. Instead, you tilt your head to the side, considering him, and then at last point your finger at the offense on his chin.

“Shave the half-beard,” you say, “Please. It’s an eyesore.”

“Will that get you to stop complaining?” He asks, mouth twisting up in an amused grin. 

“Nothing can,” you argue back, “I thought you knew that.”

If anything, Lando only seems more pleased by your response. “I’m starting to learn.”

He’s stubbornly unwilling to argue with you. It would be infuriating, but for some reason, it still makes you smile thinking about it hours after you get back home, rubbing your thumb over the beads on the bracelet he strung for you. 

And, when you see him at the paddock for the next race, he’s fucking clean shaven. Not a whisper of a beard in sight. He spots you looking and winks. What the hell. 

It makes no sense. None at all. He doesn’t say a thing about it, and if he won’t, then you can’t either, because you’re not entirely sure that this isn’t just all in your head. Maybe he felt like shaving anyway. Maybe a girlfriend put him up to it or something. This prompts a frantic research session, and after perusing many F1 WAGs Instagram accounts, you’re certain that Lando isn’t dating anyone at the moment. This isn’t important information, of course. You’re just, you know, curious.

You keep the bracelet on. Tucked under a sleeve, always, no one needs to know and least of all Lando, but it stays on. You’re not entirely sure why. Luxury brands have offered you diamonds, but Lando made this for you, and for some reason, that makes it far more valuable in your opinion than anything else. It’s silly, but it’s yours. That’s all.

No one has picked up on the war waging in your head. Your PR manager mentioned once that she was glad you and Lando weren’t actively fighting anymore, and it took you a few moments before you realized she was right. Not only have you stopped sniping at each other in interviews, but a couple races now, he’s actually approached you in the paddock to talk, and what’s more, you’ve let him.

It’s stupid, and unreasonable, and definitely not something you should be devoting so much of your life to thinking about, but now that the seed has been planted in your head, it’s kind of impossible to ignore. Lando gets you water on hot weekends. He helps you avoid Martin Brundle when the commentator is out doing his grid walks. You seek him out to talk through race results. You laugh at each other’s misfortune, but it doesn’t sting like it did before.

He’s insufferable. You love him. 

You love him. 

It’s the first time you’ve admitted as much to yourself. You have a feeling that it won’t be the last. There is much more to you, to him, than just the fighting, so much more that you want to explore and express and linger over, but—

But Lando doesn’t want that, does he? Lando is a spoiled brat, a young Prince Charming who is very used to getting what he wants and not at all acquainted with people contradicting that. It’s why the two of you clashed for the first time. If he had wanted you in any sense of the word other than as an enemy, he would have done something about it at the start.

Even now, the two of you have been drunk in clubs before, have walked back to hotels alone in the middle of the night. If Lando wanted something from you, something more, he could have taken it. He hasn’t, so the awful truth you must admit to yourself if this:  he doesn’t want it at all. He’s studiously neutral, but nothing more than that.

It’s starting to gnaw away at you. Lando isn’t the only one who likes getting what he wants. Now that you’ve stopped hating each other, he’s closer to you than he ever has been, but yet it still isn’t enough. You can stand right next to him, can even lean against his shoulder, but it all means nothing.

It’s infuriating. It makes you act up, act out. Your shared friends on the grid invite you out to some gala, and you go because you know Lando will be there, and you leave early because you want him to follow you out. He does, and you two argue the whole way back, because if you can’t have him as you want, maybe you should push him away. It’ll certainly make things easier.

The two of you are squabbling in the back of the taxi about something unnecessary. Probably something he said and you escalated, if not the other way around. At last, you can’t take the weight of his disapproval anymore, and you ask the driver to let you out. It’s close enough to your hotel that you can walk, anyway. Lando can stay in the car and go back to his place. Problem solved.

It is, at least, until he chases you out of the car as well. He’s saying something about how you need to get back in the car, something about an approaching storm. You look up at the darkening sky and realize what he’s talking about. You had half thought that the distant thunder had been in your own head instead of across the city, but storm clouds are descending upon you now.

Lando shakes his head exasperatedly, hurrying you towards the door of the hotel. It really isn’t that far, but he still threatens to carry you there at least twice. His temper only grows more taut when he starts seeing lightning in the distance. It isn’t even raining here yet, but he doesn’t relax until you’re both through the door and out of harm’s way.

You, on the other hand, only freeze up when the roof is at last over your head. It occurs to you, not three steps into the shelter of the lobby, that your wrist is bare. Underneath your jacket, you reach over to scratch absentmindedly just beneath your other palm, but instead of hitting plastic beads, they touch only blank skin. You freeze in place, gaze swinging wildly to your forearm, but it’s true, the bracelet is gone. You don’t remember it coming off, but it’s gone now.

A frantic search of your pockets reveals nothing; as if they’re deep enough to hold anything, anyway, least of all this all-important thing. The bracelet was on your wrist when you left the cab, so it must have been lost while you were outside. It wouldn’t have been that long ago now. You could still find it.

Lando groans in irritation when you immediately make for the doors once more. “Y/N, come on–”

You’re ignoring him, though. Lando’s going to think the worst of you anyway, and you want your bracelet more than you want his incensed remarks about how it’s such a bad idea to stay out in this weather. The storm is hurriedly dawning upon you, and the trees lining the walkways shake as if with fright or chill, but that doesn’t stop you from retracing your steps, silently praying that you’ll find the one thing you cannot bear to lose. You can buy an awful lot back, misplacing jackets or other jewelry isn’t that big of a deal, but that bracelet– well, Lando only made one of those, and it was yours.

You didn’t walk that far when you were out here, all things considered, so you’re able to pinpoint the possible bracelet locations quickly. Either here, behind the flowering tree, or there, along the stone walkway—

Lando has followed you out, raising his arm over his face to protect from the spattering of raindrops now starting to fall from the sky. “Y/N, come on, I’m serious, we have to go in.”

You hold up a finger, still looking only at the ground. “Just give me a second.”

Lando heaves another tremendous sigh. “What are you even doing?”

“Trying to find something I lost.” You have to raise your voice to be heard over a clap of thunder which, although isn’t necessarily nearby, still makes Lando flinch as if the ominous sound came from overhead. 

“It isn’t worth it,” he says, “we can find it later, I promise. Just get inside, will you?”

“No!” You shout back.

Lando casts a frantic look up at the approaching storm, then rushes over to stand in front of you, blocking you from moving any further. “Y/N, please. What could possibly be important enough to stay out here? You’re going to get struck by lightning.”

You try to escape past him, but Lando stays firm, refusing to budge until you tell him what the matter is. At last, you give in. “Fine. It’s your bracelet, the one you made me. You made it for me, I’m not losing it. You may not like me, not like– Not like I like you, but at least I can have that. That’s what I want.”

Lando’s face goes blank. Whatever he was expecting to hear, it wasn’t that. The naked surprise in his expression makes your stomach twist with shame, and you turn away, headed back to your search once more. Lando was caught off guard by your answer, so he isn’t able to stop you.

You hurry away from him. You don’t know what he’s thinking, or, hell, why he even made you the bracelet in the first place. Maybe it was for a specific reason, but it was probably just supposed to be a joke, something to be used against you, but you kept it anyway. You kept it, and you treasured it like gold.

You run further into the storm, away from him. The rain starts to fall even more than before. Maybe it’s okay, though. If the storm carries you away, if it drowns you in the flood, at least you won’t have to face him again. You look from side to side, searching for any pocket of plastic colors, but nothing, nothing.

Nothing, and then Lando’s voice, faint because of the storm, but still there somehow. Still there, despite everything you’ve said to him.

“I wanted you,” he calls back, shouting to be heard over the ever quickening wind. “I wanted you, but you hated me, and I thought it was better if we were enemies than nothing. At last then I could still talk to you.”

You feel as if you’ve been struck by lightning. The shock of it freezes you in place, even as the rain pounds down in sheets around you, chilling you through skin to bone and blood. It is only now, once your frenzy has been replaced by sheer immobilizing surprise, that you stand still long enough to spot the bracelet at last, tucked inside the cup of a stone on the walkway.

You reach out to pick it up, but your hand meets someone else’s before your fingers can close around the beads. When you look up, it’s him, it’s Lando, just as soaked from the rain as you, but here. Still here. Still here, for you.

He slides the bracelet over your wrist, then leans closer, just enough that you can feel the reverberations of his whispered hurry as he whispers it to you before urging you back towards the hotel once more. He’s pulled off his jacket and holds it above the two of you to protect from the wind and rain. It forces you to run so close to him that you can feel the heat radiating between the slim space from his ribs to yours. 

You feel it still, even after you make it past the threshold of the hotel and stand there, shivering, just behind the glass doors. You can see the storm wild outside– so crazy to think that you’d just been out there, with the wind tearing at the trees and the rain so devastating– but in here, it’s calm, completely still.

Lando remains just a breath away, slowly lowering his dripping jacket away from your head. “It’s you,” he repeats, “It’s always been you.”

After all of that, all of those revelations and discoveries, he still has it in himself to surprise you. The kiss is unexpected, but not unwelcome, and warms you head to toe despite the cold of the rain still pressed deep within your bones. It’s welcoming, inviting, and it tells you that despite everything, every fight, every reason not to stay– it will only get better from here.

f1 taglist: @j-brielmalfoy, @juphey

#lando norris #lando norris imagines #lando norris x reader #lando norris oneshot #f1 #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 oneshot #formula one #formula one imagines #formula one x reader #formula one oneshot #lando #lando imagines #lando x reader #lando oneshot #f1 lando #f1 lando imagines #f1 lando x reader #f1 lando oneshot

[nayatarot777]

how can you co-create with the universe to attract fortune to yourself? 🪡🎨 • pac 🎴

if you’d like a personal reading, then see info here

subscribe to the patreon if you’re interested in daily messages from spirit, weekly pac readings for “the week ahead”, exclusive extended readings to the tumblr PACs, exclusive pac readings - such as 18+ and love pac readings - new moon + full moon readings, plus more. i’m on there everyday, just doing my thing 😂

{• pile one •}

cards: the hierophant, knight of wands, 3 of cups

spirit is suggesting that you focus on finding a community that connects people based on their faith. a community of people who are focused on sharing knowledge and downloads that they’re receiving from the divine. whether this is a spiritual community, a self-help community, maybe even a religious community (please be careful with any communities like this, because when you’re not, that’s when you fall into the trap of a cult 🙃). i’m also seeing that you guys could create your own community of people on your own platform in which people are able to learn valuable lessons from you - especially about friendship, happiness, “sisterhood”, i’m hearing. i’m seeing jupiter in the 4th house/jupiter in cancer, so if you guys have either of those placements (or maybe sagittarius in the 4th, moon in sagittarius, something that mixes cancerian and jupiterian energy together) then your abundance is tied to womanhood and femininity. so surrounding yourself with likeminded women/feminines or helping them in some way will bring a lot of abundance to you. i’m also hearing “changing people’s definition of happiness”. motivating people to follow their own morals and values, leading you to do the same.

{• pile two •}

cards: 2 of swords, knight of pentacles, strength

you attract abundance when you’re in your ego. not when you let your ego control you, but when you control your ego and know how to direct your strengths into some type of creative process that you can persistently focus on. when you focus on taming your ego so that you can use it to your advantage. you need to honour your ego a lot more. i feel like, with the 2 of swords, spirit is saying that you’re listening to external noise from the outside world wayyy too much. you don’t need to look for direction and guidance from other people. other people can’t help you. you need to listen to your intuition. certain communities (especially the “new age”, phony ass ‘spiritual community’) will teach you that it’s a negative to be in your ego. no tf it’s not. your ego is your identity. who you are. if you don’t know who you are, then you’re a nobody. a pushover. with no morals, no personal values, no backbone (which is probably why those same communities promote toxic positivity and being a doormat for the sake of appearing like you’re all ‘love and light’ and shit). fuck all of that. you need to have patience with yourself when developing your ego because you may not even know who you are currently. once you do, you’ll find your courage and strength to listen to your intuition and invest into what it’s telling you. your ego is your life force. feed it with valuable energy by valuing it - regardless of other people’s opinions. only insecure people who don’t know who they are will get triggered by you. who gives a damn about them though? this is your life. start living it as the person who you truly want to be.

{• pile three •}

cards: the emperor, queen of swords, 8 of pentacles

you guys are extremely intelligent people. you need to find confidence in your knowledge and what you know that you know - especially with something practical that you’re trying to master or perfect. you have an eye for what needs to be improved in your day-to-day, practical life or in your business. whenever the emperor comes out with the 8 of pentacles, it definitely indicates entrepreneurship to me as a reader. and this entrepreneurship could be surrounding honesty, truth, giving direct messages to people so that they can improve their life. this could be life coaching, motivational speaking (especially with this emperor (aries energy) mixed with this queen of swords). you guys know how to pump people up to start working on themselves and aspects of their life as much as possible. and you guys are naturals at this. start just posting random posts of encouragement or motivation whenever you get the inspiration to, and i feel like you’ll attract a lot of people to you who are willing to give you abundance in exchange for the energetic abundance that you give to them. you can really monetise your words and your motivation due to the guidance that you’re able to give people about their sense of self and how that relates to their manifestations/goals + achievements. this aries energy could also be about physical activity - like fitness training. you know how to stay on people’s necks so that they complete a task thoroughly and over and over again to the point where they perfect it. and you can do that for yourself. feed into that.

#psychic readings #tarot reading #pick a card #pac #pick a photo #divination #tarot #pick a picture #pac reading #spirituality #daily tarot #intuitive #tarotcommunity #tarot cards

[necros-writing-stuff]

Imagine this: a younger/kid PC finding out about the attic, maybe even a picture from when Bailey and Eden were still in school, and is now determined to find Eden, and try to bring the two together again

———

Basically The Parent Bait, but there’s only one (1) annoying and stubborn kid (except anon has never seen the movie)

Bailey knew you were a menace as soon as you were dropped off on his doorstep. And he was right. You break out of the youth wing and wander around, you latch onto him as he passes by despite his best efforts to not be fatherly, and of course he caught you coming down the ladder from the loft.

Now you've followed him to his meeting with Eden, staring up at both of them with a big smile on your face as they feel a mutual relief that they kept their pants on.

"One of yours...?" Eden looks jumpy, ready to get gone. Its best that people don't know he exists, and if this kid is some sort of spy (a terrible one if they are), then it could mean trouble.

Bailey flicks some ash off the end of his cigarette. "You're meant to be at school, kid."

His glare doesn't change a thing, you're still there, swinging your arms back and forth as you rock on your feet, a giggle bubbling up from your chest.

"Is this your boyfriend from that old photo?"

Both of them freeze. There's an old photo? You used the word 'boyfriend', too, which doesn't help with how god damn fragile the line of friendship and lovers is between the two.

"We aren't boyfriends, what fucking photo, kid?"

Your little hand dives straight into your pocket, producing a faded picture with creases marking the material. "This one! From an old box in the loft. I don't know why you don't like me up there, it's just dusty."

There's so much innocence still in your eyes. So much lack of knowledge about the world leaving blank spaces in your head that you fill with dreams. You don't even seem to realise how the mention of the loft makes both men grow pale.

Bailey snatches the photo from you, briefly glancing at it to ensure its really them. Eden looks away from it. He'll have to burn it later.

"Wait here kid. Don't move - not an inch, do you understand? I need to talk about something you're too young for, so no listening in."

He grabs the fabric of Eden's coat, hauling him several feat away before speaking once more in hushed tones. "I'm worried about this one. They'll give me a stress heart attack when they're older, I just know it. Hope someone just adopts them so I won't have to put up with them."

No response from Eden as he looks at you over his shoulder, nodding his head when you wave at him.

Bailey continues. "They think I'm like. Their dad or something. It pisses me off, Eden, how can one kid be that dumb? I mean-"

"Or whoever raised them this far was just as much of a cold bastard as you and they think it's normal cause they don't know anything else."

Sometimes Eden says smart things. Sometimes. Bailey rarely likes it. "Yeah well they should learn better anyway."

Eden has something in his eyes when he looks back at you once more. A hint of pity and wistfulness.

"I want kids, I ever tell you that?" They're speaking quietly, but this one is whispered.

The hunter can't adopt. He doesn't have the paperwork, can't pass inspections. But you're an adventurous kid who runs off a lot.

"I can just report them missing. You'd be doing me a favour, and it's better than killing them because they know we used to be just like them."

A month passes before he's able to see Eden again. A month where it looks like the man hasn't slept and has claw marks on his face. He's smiling, though.

"The kid decided we needed a pet badger."

Fatherhood looks good on him.

"But also is asking when their other dad is coming for tea."

And you're still finding ways to make his life difficult.

#spill your guts #anonymous #eden the hunter #bailey the caretaker #baileden propaganda #i give eden feral child

[missjanjie]

100 Prompts #3

the first prompt list of the new year! yall know the drill, send a number + ship (and au/trope if applicable)

“I’m happier than ever, honest.” 

“Do you ever think about me? About us?”

“Just be cool, act natural.” 

“You’re lying. Tell me you’re lying.” 

“No, I’m not okay.”

“Please? I’ll make it up to you.” 

“I wish I’d never laid eyes on you.”

“You have to admit, we’d be hot together.”

“I said I’m in love with you!”

“You are… really something else.” 

“I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Make me.”

“We’re gonna get caught.”

“I can’t do this anymore, I have to go.”

“You started without me?”

“I had nowhere else to go.”

“Please, just hold me.” 

“Explain it to me like I’m five.” 

“I never meant for any of this to happen.” 

“You broke me.”

“I have to go after them.”

“They say you’re trouble.”

“I don’t need your pity.”

“You have to promise not to fall in love with me.”

“You’re leaving? Now?” 

“I don’t think you even know what you want.”

“They’re the one that got away.” 

“I’m not trying to be your friend, I’m trying to fuck you.”

“How long have you been standing there?”

“They’d kill me if they knew.”

“You’re not dying, you have a crush.”

“Are you always this oblivious?”

“When I’m with them I’m thinking of you.” 

“Fuck, it’s locked!” 

“Don’t start singing. For the love of god, don’t start singing.”

“What do you want me to do, get on my knees and beg?”

“Heard you were looking for me.” 

“Ignore me all you want, you can’t un-fuck me.”

“I can’t give you anything but time.”

“Why are you naked?” 

“Oh my god, you’re in love.”

“I swore I’d never fall in love again… then I found you.”

“Jealous? I’m not jealous, I just think they can do better.”

“Do you have any idea how much self control it takes just to exist in the same space as you?”

“Just listen to me for once in your life.”

“Come on, you said you’d behave today.” 

“I think I misunderstood the assignment.” 

“Whose baby is that?”

“Call me tomorrow if you’re still alive.”

“You’re the love of my life… just maybe not this life.”

“That’s not what you said last night.” 

“I’m on my fifth White Claw, that’s the kind of night this is.” 

“Why are you bleeding?” 

“Damn, you look like shit.” 

“You weren’t supposed to see that.” 

“I know it’s three am but I couldn’t let you be sad by yourself.”

“Can I touch you?” 

“Run away, run and find something better.”

“All I wanted was you.”

“I think I just met my soulmate.” 

“There’s nothing more to say.” 

“What happens next?”

“Stop, you’re wasting your time.”

“I don’t know how to be fine without pretending.” 

“Oh. I didn’t realize you moved on.”

“I thought you were dead!”

“You can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending it’s me.”

“Uh oh, you’re listening to your extra-angsty playlist, I see.”

“Aren’t you a little old to be playing hard to get?”

“Don’t settle for me.” 

“Ugh, just kill me now.” 

“I haven’t seen you smile like that in a long time.”

“We can learn to love again.” 

“All you needed to do was ask me to stay.”

“You… You just kissed me.” 

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?”

“Stop being so stubborn and let me help you.” 

“I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“That… is an interesting choice.”

“Well, let’s make another bad decision while we’re here.” 

“I’m bored. Wanna make out?”

“Okay, I guess we’re doing this.” 

“Wow… I’m speechless.” 

“Let’s see what you’re made of.”

“I just need some air.” 

“I’m tired of you treating everything like a joke.”

“Holy shit, do you ever stop talking?”

“It finally feels like my life has meaning.” 

“I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.” 

“I’m happy as long as you’re mine.” 

“It’s my first time.” 

“Believe me, I didn’t want to fall in love with you.”

“One of these days, you’ll have to stop lying to yourself.”

“It’s now or never, baby.”

“The fact that I can’t have you makes me want you more.”

“You have a choice to make, better get it right.” 

“Oh, honey, I was born for this.”

“How high did you have to get to come up with that one?”

“I feel like I’m too old to be dealing with a crush.”

“I hate that your smug attitude is turning me on.”

#writing prompts #writing starters #sentence prompts #sentence starters #fic prompts

[remyfire]

I think the funniest thing about Hawk being Like That is that Alan Alda has writers credits on the show. This man voluntarily made his character the most touch starved needy desperate person on the planet and that's so fucking insane of him. But also Mr Alda I would like to give you a little hug and a kiss for giving him to us because I love him with my whole heart. And don't even get me started on the fact that Hawkeye yelled to a general "I want to have your baby!" In literally the first season. Like Hawkeye my love not everyone needs to know you want to be pregnant 😂 And truly he deserves to be absolutely smothered with cuddles, everyone loves him and he loves everyone and I think it could help fix him.

Listen my Trap brain is always on, he's my man, I am thinking about him quite literally daily. And now that you reminded me of the priest line I'm gonna think of that too! Like Trapper my love what happened in your past? Did your parents give you that many names in hopes you'd be a priest? Did you pick one yourself for confirmation? Why did you keep all of the names despite seemingly abandoning the religion? I am peering at him like a bug under a microscope and there's nothing he can do about it.

That little coffee through line with Margret is so cute! Even though I'm sure it was unintentional on the show's part I definitely couldn't help but think of it and flash back to The Nurses in both the scenes in Temporary Duty and CAVE. Margaret and cups of coffee representing her character growth is honestly so sweet and I love it. Also ooohhhh self proclaimed Military Brat Margaret Houlihan realizing that the Army Way isn't the only way or even the best way, and the things that would DO to her. The realization that what she's learned her whole life isn't necessarily good, and having to contend with what that means for her and her career and her personality. And also having to face her father after that, because we see in Are You Now, Margaret? that she cares very much about disappointing him and even affecting his career. Would such a realization maybe help her become more of her own person that isn't living only to make her father proud and keep up the Houlihan name? Or is her desire to be a point of pride for her family more important to her than her personal development? Truly she's so fascinating to me. And it's definitely an interesting parallel with Mulcahy, both of them having something so deeply ingrained in them that it h u r t s when it's finally inevitably broken out.

Everyone in this show suffered enough in the narrative for several lifetimes but damn if I don't wanna give them a little bit more hardship to really crack them open and wrap up their character development in the way they deserve. I'll definitely give them softness and love but first they need a little bit of pain I think 😂

(Also I am officially onto season 8! I finished Goodbye Radar last night and was a Wreck. Man I love this show)

Okay hi again anon, sorry for making this sit while thinking too hard about Hawk and Beje and Trap things.

I swear that Alan did more to break and attempt to breed Hawk than any of us fanfic authors have ever done. I am not entirely convinced that this man didn't start getting the bends once he couldn't whump Hawk anymore and instead pivoted to writing fanfics for the old distant zines that popped up in the '80s. He probably has multiple AO3 accounts right now just churning out agonizing pain. Alan we know what you are.

I do hate that we got so little development for Trap compared to Beej but it's also delightful because it means all of us get to sit here and rotate him on a merry-go-round that goes faster and faster and never stops. Anything is possible. He's so INTERESTING!!! He's like half a guy! No matter what anyone says, they could probably make it work! And that means I am in fact slam dunking the religious trauma into him at breakneck speeds. Sorry, bud (lie).

I'm so glad you mentioned Are You Now Margaret because that's one of those underrated episodes that always has its teeth so deep in me. We learn so much about her so fast. Her big friend group!! She had so many people who loved her and who she loves enough that she refuses to endanger them even though she hasn't spoken to make in years!! The fact that she will give her father that kind of deference even though we all know in our bones that he doesn't deserve it! God, Margaret.

I love people like you who run in with a wrecking ball just absolute decimating all these characters that we know and love so that I can come in after in my little clown car with hot chocolate and blankets. I am a simple author. I know what my duty is here. And it's getting everybody laid by everybody else but ALSO giving them extreme amounts of aftercare and pillow nests ;v; We all share such a vital role in this ecosystem.

#and my role is to be very simple and i know this #my ramblings #long post

[the-path-to-redemption]

I'm not even a fan of Oscar, but I think but the way they had him not only hold no hard feelings against people who abused him, but also had his already rarely occuring character development happen OFF SCREEN and that he did something nice for those very people not long after what they've done (a meal), is just brutally, egregiously disrespectful to him. It makes me want to batter my head against a wall. It's not that he's not allowed to be a forgiving, kind person, but to downright skip without even trying to show how this child processed his feelings and worries and still had the courage to go back and commit his life to something that seems to hopeless, it's beyond lazy writing. What, too boring for you, RT?

Also Imo it would've been more interesting if Oscar had disappeared for several days instead of like what, one day? Half a day? Y'know to not rush too much his turmoil, because realistically it'd take a while for a thinking, feeling human being to make this kind of desicion. Idk maybe he actually considered giving up, but someone took him in to stay for a while and had a heart-to-heart comforting conversation with them or he stumbled upon a group therapy in which he was heard out and then listened to someone whose experience he surprisingly could relate to and seeing how that person still resolves to keep going inspired him to try to do the same— anything would've been better than to fucking skip this crucial moment. That's exactly what made him boring and hard to sympathize with to me.

I will forever be bitter that Lost was dedicated to Jaune. JAUNE. The person who assaulted a child in his sister's house, driving him away into an unknown town after said kid learned about his imminent doom of being assimilated by an ancient wizard, that is if he wasn't murdered by a Grimm witch and her lackeys before that. Oscar was a child, and no one gave a damn.

I agree with your second paragraph, anon; why not have Oscar be focused on for once? Why not have him call back to his home, where people who lived with him for his entire life, and show the audience a moment of vulnerability that HE SHOULD HAVE HAD. Why can't we have a moment where Oscar tries to reach out to Ozpin, someone who actually relates to him? Nah, fuck that. Oscar is given nothing but abuse and neglect from everyone involved, and I don't blame anyone who doesn't like his inclusion.

I vaguely remember a fan comic where the artist shows Oscar struggling with his identity as he puts on his new outfit, telling a silent Ozpin that he likes the color orange more, but puts on green as an acceptance that he will be Ozpin one day. That gave both of them more character than anything the writers did, but who's surprised?

#answered #anonymous #rwde #rwby critical #anti rooster teeth #oscar pine critical #anti crwby

[rhaenys-queenofkhyrulzz]

Mctna modern au headcanon

This is so ooc but pls forgive me 🙏🙏

A 32 year old Seon-ho sits down in the corner of a bar by himself. It's barely past 9 but most people have already left. The ice in his drink had long since diluted whatever cheap alcohol he'd ordered. He closed his eyes as a band started up on the makeshift stage, losing himself in the music and his memories.

And I met her downtown in the slums of Austin Once we were sober, she said "I'm from Boston" I told her, "I couldn't give Massa-two-shits" Luckily, she likes guys that treat her like

Third-year uni student Seo Hwi gives in to his friends Mun-bok and Beom to at least attend one party before graduation. It's not that he doesn't like them- in fact everyone agrees he'd probably be the life on them. He just doesn't see the point in partying with a massive group of strangers when he'd much rather just have a good time with his friends.

Enter Nam Seon-ho. He's in the same year but mainly keeps to himself. Still, that doesn't stop him from stealing glances at that one handsome, always-smiling Culinary Arts student. He decides to go to this party and get blackout drunk 'cause once he graduates, he'll be stuck back at home with his dad learning the ropes of his company.

They reach the venue (a rundown off campus house with shitty LED lights all over the place) that night. Mun-bok quickly leaves Hwi to chat up a pretty girl by the drinks table and one of Beom's other friends beckons him away. Hwi feels a bit stranded so he gets his own drink.

He makes small talk with some people but an hour later he's bored. He goes to get another drink when he sees Seon-ho, the 'kinda beautiful actually' business major he sometimes sees walking around campus, chugging back some disgusting mix of drinks like there's no tomorrow.

Help me, everyone calls me Mickey Just wanna be your darling

Hwi wants to approach him but Seon-ho talks to him first, thanks to some good old liquid courage. They hit it off really well even if Hwi makes one too many corny jokes. One thing leads to another and then they're making out in the corner before stumbling their way into Seon-ho's apartment. Sung-rok curses when the door to their dorm slams open and throws a book at Hwi who barely dodges it. He's grumbling something about 'damn self-destructive tendencies' as he makes it out of the room just before they're making out again.

A couple months pass and they're actually a couple now. They graduate and move back to Seoul. Seon-ho takes up a job at his dad's company while Hwi is now a new hire at some fancy restaurant. Things are good for the while. They're happy and making time to see each other. In fact, they're almost unhealthily dependent on each other.

So, listen, I know you're probably with him And maybe for good reason But, you don't fuckin' need him I warned you

But as the years go by, they're getting busier and Seon-ho is getting more stressed at work because of Nam Jeon. He starts drinking more and more. It doesn't help the fact that the owner of the restaurant Hwi works at, Yi Bang-won, has started to take an interest in him. This gives way to lots of arguments between them. Why talk it out when they could just fight and fuck instead? Plus, Seon-ho gets to the point where he's almost always drunk when he's off work and has even started to get high.

Maybe stop getting your advice from the guy you get your high from

Hwi can't bear to see the love of his life- because they both know; that's what they are to each other- destroying himself day by day. Especially when it puts Yeon in danger because of it.

How can I love someone that can't stand The thought of loving me back? Why do I think I need that? I know you, pick me But one day, babe, you'll thank me For teaching you how to leave A piece of shit just like me I warned you

They break up.

Everything goes to shit. Seon-ho is convinced Hwi hates him and that Bang-won had a role to play somehow. Seon-ho overdoses. Nam Group gets involved with this huge drug scandal. In the midst of this all, Seo Geom passes away in jail after wrongful imprisonment and Yeon develops epilepsy. Hwi's mind is so clouded with worry, grief and anger, he's convinced that the Nam family was responsible for those fake charges. Seon-ho and Hwi hate each other.

Yeah, I remember when you said how you wish that I was dead So, I tried to kill myself Swallowed way too many pills And god the tummy-ache was shit But not enough to kill the kid

Against his will, Seon-ho survives. Nam Jeon shipped him off to rehab, telling his failure of a son to keep his head down and listen to him. For the next 6 years, the only confidant he has is Sung-rok. He and Hwi don't talk anymore, even if they both hate and yearn for each other each day.

Sometimes I wish I didn't live But I'm so fucking glad I did I remember what you said You were wishing I was dead Now, you're wishing me the best 'Cause my song's stuck in your head

In the present day, miles away, Hwi is listening to the same song on the local radio station as he's washing wares in his kitchen sink. He'd uncovered the truth about Bang-won about 2 years ago. By then, all forms of communication between him and Seon-ho had been cut. He felt such horrible guilt for blaming Seon-ho for getting Seo Geom imprisoned after their breakup as some horrible form of revenge. He'd sunk to the floor, tears welling up in his eyes when he recalled the last words he'd hurtled at him, "You pretend to be so different from him but you're just like your father!"

As Hwi puts a dish on the drying rack, he sighs deeply to himself . His heart constricts painfully in his chest. Even though he can't forgive Seon-ho for getting Yeon hurt those years ago, he hopes that he's doing well wherever he is. He just wishes he could make things right between them.

I'm so glad I still exist Just so I can rub it in

In the bar, Seon-ho gets up to leave, the condensation from his unfinished drink pooling at its base on the table. He wonders what Hwi would think of him if he saw him now. When he realised he was all alone in this world, he'd made it his mission to at least quit getting high out of sheer spite.

You were perfect and I'm so sorry I'm such a dick But you still love me I still regret letting you leave me Don't you forget you used to need me

Now, Seon-ho knows that they'd both had parts to play in the train wreck of their relationship. They were both argumentative near the end and were never willing to compromise their own values for the other. At his lowest points, he'd wondered what would happen were he to lose his wretched pride. He and Hwi could've talked to each other. The heavens knew they were so fundamentally flawed and yet, they understood each other in ways no one else could.

Seon-ho looked up at the stars and shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. Hwi, if you can hear this...I'm sorry.

In his home, Hwi's heart suddenly felt a bit warmer.

For as much as both men had and still hated each other, they'd always loved each other far more.

#Spotify #mctna #mctna headcanon #headcanon #my country the new age #seonhwi #nam seon ho #seo hwi #found this in a satosugu geto rp playlist when i realised that this song actually made a pretty good modern au #bittersweet ending tho

[alostlovergirl]

Gonna fix her. ( Steve rogers x reader )

Warning: abusive behavior, toxic behavior, misogyny.

Summary: Steve has a problem with all the modern women, but his girlfriend is where he draws the line. She was gonna learn to settle down.

Steve rogers was America's golden boy and everyone thought as him as a respectful man. That he was a good, king man, but that was all a fucking ruse. The truth was that he hated the modern women of the world. He hated now they did whatever they wanted and constantly disrespected the men of the world for no reason. Now, some men were insufferable and he could understand why some women hated men but, he wasn't like that and there were some good honest men, who worked hard Ana made a good honest living. Men like that, in Steve's opinion, deserved a housewife and children. Men like that deserved whatever the hell they wanted in the world.

Now, he has given his life for his country over and over. He thought that he deserved the world for his constant  sacrifice. How selfish was he for being like that.

Now, the girl he has been with was not what he wanted. He hated her disrespectful ass. She was volatile and loud, she drinks entirely too much, she didn't like to listen or clean up. The only reason he hasn't broken the relationship off because she was so damn pretty and knew she could be so much better than the way she was acting. He was gonna fix her.

Steve came home to a messy house. He signed and looked up at the stairs of their shared house. He grumbles and walked upstairs to their shared bedroom. There was clothes all over the floor. Her clothes. He looks at her sitting at his desk and using her vanity mirror to carefully apply eyeliner to her eyes.

" What is all this shit on the floor, darling?" he asked trying to contain his anger. All he wanted was a clean home to come home to for once.

She turns towards him and blinks at him with her long eyelashes. “ sorry, I was trying to find my dress" she says in such a soft pretty voice that he almost felt bad about being angry.

He sighs. “why can't you be clean? Women are supposed to clean and be clean. You modern women are so unclean "

She turned around with a disgusted look on her face. She scoffed and put her eyeliner down.

“ Steve you are being misogynistic. You cannot just say that to a women. You may have came from a different time period, but you can't just say that. Stop being a prick'' she spoke before turning back towards her vanity mirror with a scoff. Steve rolls his eyes and stands up.

“ well it's not my fucking fault that I rather be with a women who spends her time partying all the time. That's all you do and I want to settle down with kids. Why can't you focus on my own needs and not yours.” he says as he walked over to her and puts big hands on her shoulder.it was a shame because she was gorgeous, like now as she is putting on her makeup and going her long hair up into tight curls.

He just wanted to fuck her right now, hold her face down into the pillows, smudge her pretty makeup and make her a nice and dumb cocksleeve. His cock twitched at the thought of her squirming, begging him to stop or at least to slow down. He watched as this pretty women rolled her eyes and shrugged his hands off of her shoulders.

“Get off of me. You are being a jerk. Maybe we should break up cause this isn’t working. All you want is to keep me to yourself and have kids when I don’t want to. I want to have fun, I am 23 years old and I rather not be tied down with a husband and kids” she gets up while Steve's eye twitch. Something just snapped in Steve. He grabs her by her hair and pulls her back against his hard chest. He smiled as he could feel her fast, scared short breaths.

“You are not fucking leaving me. I don’t know who you think you are, but I am the man of the house. I don’t know what your fucking problem is, but don’t worry I am gonna fix you. You need a good man, good dick and need to be swollen with children. “ Steve spoke against her ear with his rumbling deep voice. She shivered and he smiled, letting go of her hair. “now go to your little party and we will talk about this later when you get back.”

He walks away from her and sits on the bed as she quickly got out of the room. She had to know that even if she didn’t come home he could always find her. He was going to fix her, wether she liked it or not.

#dark marvel #marvel #steve rogers #captain america #new page #new #x reader #toxic behavior #steve rogers x you #chris evans #first story #new writer #mcu x reader #superhero

[stormyjane7]

A Red Eyed Devil

Read here on AO3

It had been a few days since you had clearly made it apparent to each other and the group that you were bound to one another. As you looked up from your book, and around the camp, you knew that it hadn’t stopped everyone fussing and flirting with what you felt like was already claimed as yours. It was starting to aggravate you more and more as you thought about it. What gave them the right to think they could get you away from him? You catch Gale looking in your direction after another sloppy attempt at flirting with Tav. If you could have killed him with just your glare, he’d be in a puddle of his own blood right now. Gale sheepishly looked away from you. You both knew he was caught red handed and in the wrong. 

A growl almost escaped your lips as you saw that Shadowheart was attempting next. This was truly unbelievable. Did she not even see Gale's failed attempt and certain death glare from you? Though granted you were sure she was into the darker side of the bedroom things, so she might enjoy being threatened. You held your breath as you see once again Tav smile graciously and turn her down. 

Thankfully your love was breaking away from the group and heading over to you. Her face held a sour expression which fanned the fire building in you. Jealousy and possessiveness were never feelings you were afforded before the tadpole. You could never have anything outside of whatever scraps you were given. Now that you are free to roam, holding as tight as you can to the one Gods damn good thing in your miserable life is all you have. Fuck anyone who step into your territory. 

“Can you believe them?” Tav sighs as she reaches where you are. “I can’t keep telling them no over and over. They just don’t get it that I'm taken and not up for grabs anymore.”

“Well my dearest, I do have an idea to get them to stop. You may not be up for it however, it would be quite the scandal.”

“I’m listening. What did you have in mind? If I can get them to stop and leave me, us, alone I’m all ears.”

“What if you let me take you right in front of them? Use their own shame against them. I doubt after that they would question my claim on you or you on me.” You can see that she is blushing, even spots on her chest. If you were to strip her now, you could win a bet she was red from head to toe.

“I..uh..wow.” She coughs trying to gather her composure. 

“It’s okay love. It’s just a wild idea and does not have to be done. We can figure out something less, debauched.” 

“No.” She said firmly while looking back at the group. “While I’d hate to give them a free show, it’s quite possibly the only way to get them to stop this nonsense.” She looks back up at you with determination on her face. “Lets do it. Nothing showy, just quick and to the point. If we’re still heated after we’ll just go out into the forest to finish up. Deal?” “Oh darling, deal indeed.” You close your book and set it to the side. “Go on then dear. I’m right behind you.” You watch her walk with what seems to be the biggest confidence boost toward the group. Her face must be commanding attention as the chatter around the fire stopped as she approached. She took a breath before she started undressing herself. Weapons that were being clean, fell out of hands; a lit cigar was now rolling on the ground; and a spell book closed with a resounding snap. All eyes were in a state of lust and confusion as they watched their fearless leader undress themselves fully. 

“I want you all to watch and learn. I tried playing it nice but maybe this will get it through your heads.” She said tilting her head up in a defiant way.

You saunter up behind her and hear a gasp from the group as you wrap your hands around the top of one shoulder and around her waist. You turn her around in your arms. 

“Tav, do you consent to submit to what I’m about to do to and with you?” You lift her chin up with a hand so you can look directly in her eyes.

She nods. “Yes Astarion.”

“Good girl. Now get on your knees for me won’t you dear?” The silence in the camp was truly deafening as everyone watched their leader get on her knees in front of you. “Now, release me of my trousers and do whatever it is you wish with me. I’m not picky.” You say with a grin.

She undoes the laces of your trousers and lowers them down your legs. You kick them off to the side. She gingerly wraps her hand around your hard length and gives it a reassuring squeeze. You stare into her eyes as you watch her open her mouth to wrap her lips around you. 

“That’s right my pet. You’re so Gods damn good for me.” You make sure to put strength behind the words of possession. You grab her hair and slide yourself in and out of her mouth. You look at the camp group as you make her go all the way down to the base and make her gag. The expressions among the group were priceless. You pull your sweet girl off of you, wiping the precum and spit off of her lips.

“Now won’t you be a good girl and turn around towards our dear, sweet, and smart friends on your hands and knees?” She smiles and nods at you. After she has done so, she gives you a wiggle showing you that she was okay and ready to continue. You got on your knees behind her and in one smooth motion entered her from behind. Her head throws back with a moan escaping her lips.

“Now, dear, sweet, smart friends. I want you to understand one thing.” You grab her hair again to make sure that her face is up towards them. You can see her eyes are closed with the throws of passion rather than shame, so you don’t make her open them at this time. As you speak again you start thrusting into her make sure to slam with each word. “She. Is. Mine. I. Am. Her’s.” 

She cries out after you said the words. You slow your pace a tiny bit so that your words came out as clearly as possible. “If I catch any of you flirting with her again with true intention, I will have your head. Is that clear?” You growl the last sentence.

The entire group snaps out of their trance to vigorously nod their heads. 

“Good.” You pull out of Tav and grab your pants to pull them back on before you scoop your darling up and head towards the forest. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have unfinished business to attend to now that you have been set in your places.”

#astarion #astarion x reader #bg3

[lady-lazagna]

I'm not super back into Bakugan (that five-year solo special interest phase will be missed) BUT impulse buying a Shun funko pop has reignited something in me

SO I'm gonna write some random headcanons of the core six (anything after season one doesn't exist to me lol sorry) and their Bakugan:

-Hitting Shun with the Autisti-fication beam. Only talks when he feels it's important, super observant, can't tell you how he feels for the life of him (I am him, actually). In my hc, he's pretty sensitive to bright lights, fucking hates people touching his forearms or neck, as is over-empathetic.

-Runo wants to be a lawyer. No one's 100% sure where this ambition came from, but it likely has something to do with the constant sexual harassment she faces in her current workplace under the watch of her criminally ignorant father... but who knows🤷‍♀️

-Always designating this hc to the loudest mf in the show, but Dan is a youtuber. That guy is an absolute Clout Chaser. He'd do a lot of irl stuff I think, like challenges, pranks, storytimes- and of course, a lot of Bakugan content. Some would compare him to David Dobrik. He'd fucking kill those people.

-Julie lifts. Girl could bench-press you in a heartbeat. When she gets excited, she'll just grab whoever's closest to her and twirl them around like a doll. However, she's learned to ask people if they're okay with this beforehand since becoming friends with the aforementioned autistic ninja. ^^^

-Alice listens to Death Grips when she knits. That's it. Guillotine has the best rhythm for knitting in her opinion.

-Marucho had a big "in a silly goofy mood😋" phase after he stopped being his parents' bitch. He tried really hard to do silly and "outlandish" things that were actually like... bare minimum. He used an empty chip packet as a hat and thought he was going completely off the rails.

-Obviously Runo swears the most out of the group- girl has a lot to say, and a lot of it consists of "you dumb fucking bitch." Dan tries to swear just as much, but it doesn't come naturally to him so it always feels very off when he does. Marucho, Shun, and Julie don't swear as often, but when they do, it's always unexpected and very hilarious. Alice is the only one who actively doesn't want to swear.

-On the Bakugan's end, Preyas uses a lot of old-timey slang for swear words. Dan told Drago that "fuck" is interchangeable with "play" and insanity ensued. Gorem tries not to swear because he knows it's impolite. Tigrerra also thinks it's impolite, but sometimes you just need to call your fellow Bakugan a bitch (and damn does it feel good, even if they have no idea what you're talking about). Skyress only swore once, when she told Shun's grandpa that she fucked Shun's mum. Hydranoid has never heard a swear word in his life and Alice is determined to keep it that way.

-Little self-insert shipper Laz would kill current me for this, but it has to be said: Dan, Runo, and Shun are in a polyamorous relationship. Three bisexual icons. It was bound to happen. I could write a whole post about their relationship if I could be bothered. Maybe I will be bothered one day.

-Actually maybe the entire gang is bisexual (except for maybe Alice... we need a lesbian other than the pretty evil Vexo lady). At first I thought about making Julie a lesbian, because then she'd be a pink femme lesbian (just like me fr), but I do kind of like her relationship with Billy, so she's yet another bicon. I've also heard of this dude named Tsubasa Ren that Marucho has a thing for, so *slams fist on table* ANOTHER BICON.

-Okay maybe the Vexos and the Resistance and whatever other fucking aliens they added do exist to me, I'll just ignore their entire storyline and how they fucked over my three leading ladies.

Aight that's it for now. Idk if headcanoning works the same way here as it does in the beyblade world, so if you're upset by me making them autistic and gay, I offer you my sincerest eat my ass.

#new vestroia onwards is bakugan's shogun steel #I love ignoring canon #bakugan #bakugan battle brawlers #shun kazami #runo misaki #dan kuso #julie makimoto #alice gehabich #marucho marukura #preyas #dragonoid #gorem #tigrerra #skyress #hydronoid #headcanons

[artsyunderstudy]

For the author ask: 20 🙏 I love your smut and think you do a fantastic job so advice please. And 30 if you’re up for it!

Aww Stacey I love your smut too, tho! YOU'RE BRILLIANT AND DON'T FORGET IT!

What is your best piece of advice for writing smut scenes?

I just want to preface this with saying I don't pretend to be an expert at smut scenes and there are definitely people out there who write smut so well that it fucking baffles me like how is this so effective and so hot god damn.

I have a few pointers.

I have to remind myself of this so much but ... try not to break momentum. (I guess this also depends on what you want out of the smut scene, because maybe it's more about something other than trying to keep your reader Sexually Activated.) But if you want something hot, seriously think about it like you are actually trying to coax a person to orgasm. Foreplay is as effective in smut as it is in real life. Also if you have a LOT of stops and starts, especially if you are breaking out of a sexy space, or if the mood is shifting dramatically, you have to coax the reader back into the sexy stuff when you redirect. Just, pacing I guess.

Show don't tell is also a really really good piece of advice for everything in writing, not just smut, but its very effective with smut. Don't just tell me character A feels good. Tell me how their eyes are dilating, or how their breath catches, or how they've lost motor control or something. Also keep all the descriptions very active, it makes it feel more urgent.

Think about the emotional impact of the scene. I'm a big old ace softie so I don't get much out of a sex scene that's got no emotional stakes, honestly. it doesn't even have to be big stakes, it doesn't have to be angsty, but get me emotionally invested! Is this about the characters learning to communicate something they haven't been able to before? Is this the first moment they realize they love each other? Is this a goodbye? Is one of them feeling insecure? I just like emotional stakes, and I feel a solid mixture of the physical aspects and the emotional aspects keep me very invested.

(edit) Oh this is a good piece of advice I just got recently and put to use but TRY TO WRITE THE SCENE IN ONE SITTING. While sexually activated. Your momentum will naturally be better, and you're more likely to tap into the thing that makes it sexy to you.

How do you edit your stories?

I do a lot of pre-planning (which you can read about here), but I don't really do a rough draft. I don't write without direction, and I cut very very very little once I start writing in earnest. I jump from notes to, I guess what people would consider more of a second draft? Something close to done, but needs polishing. Once I have my draft done, I get it beta read for errors and suggestions, but I also read it myself. over. and over. and over. And I use a screenreader to listen to it over and over and over. And I make adjustments. And I run it through grammarly. And I think about pacing and beef it up if I think it needs it. Honestly I'm someone who could spend months in editing. I have chapters for my current fic that I finished a month ago and I'm still doing little edits on. So I can pretty much do it indefinitely. Eventually tho you just gotta let it free.

Click Here for Author Asks!

#ask game #spicy

[waitmyturtles]

Well. Okay. The Promise, episode 10 (finale), gave us… stuff to think about. Lots of mismatched, incongruous, random, unconnected, any other synonym — stuff.

I’m in mourning, not for the show ending (I’m so glad it’s over), but for the damn potential of the show. It could have been SO. MUCH. BETTER. Would it have been better if it weren’t a commercial? Likely. Would it have been better if the show cared for its characters? VERY LIKELY.

I was hooked originally for the nostalgia aspect of the show, the reflections on Nan and Phu’s childhood, how Phu stayed in Chiang Mai during those 10 years away, the connection to village life, how that reminded me of my childhood while visiting SE Asia. I was hooked to learn about a slice of Thai food culture in coffee cultivation and how beautifully it was depicted.

The show was filmed gorgeously! Khom Kongkiat, my otherwise dear Uncle Tong, clearly has respect and awe for this slice of Thai rural life.

But, fuck, man. The characters and their stories were clearly secondary to the priority of selling the damn skincare, but ALSO — I’d argue that any sensible journey of emotional growth was rendered secondary to this seeming NEED for these UNNECESSARY spikes of INCONGRUENT DRAMA that, I don’t know, maybe Uncle Tong thought he needed to juice up the show, to mix it up from the commercial aspect?

SO MUCH of the finale was unnecessary. Khunkhao in a knife fight?! Nan’s plane inexplicably disappearing?! And then, PHU (should we be surprised?) having the SHEER. AUDACITY. to scold Nan for trying to surprise Phu on his birthday, and like, LITERALLY getting himself ACCIDENTALLY (not on purpose, PHU) in a disappearing plane situation? Phu — are you my mother? Even in times of utter relief and joy, you’re still gonna be a titchy, whiny B? Get TFOH, PLEASE, MAN.

Mayyyybe I can understand how things reconciled between Phu and Khunkhao, but even that played out inconsistently fast. I mean — they were fighting over the same guy. And then you’re huggin’ it out. Now, I get that finding your missing brother, and finding FAMILY, would be important. That could have been a key point that the show could have leveraged — that, if Nan were to decide to go to China, that Phu would not be alone, as Khunkhao himself said.

But then — the show sends Khunkhao away? And gets him into a knife fight? Only to meet another guy named Nan Fah? Good lord, OKAY.

And then? Nan is throwing ALL THE BONES to Phu for Phu to declare his committed love to Nan, awlll of them. How can Phu POSSIBLY MISS? TELL NAN YOU WANT NAN TO STAY! You two can have a reasonable conversation about careers and whatnot! But, Phu! Nan — FOR ONCE, OMG — wants to hear that YOU, PHU, DO NOT WANT TO BE SEPARATED FROM NAN. Just tell the homeboy, one time!

Phu can’t even pull that off. (As @respectthepetty rightly noted, all of this bullshit is not the actors’ fault — they did fantastically for the crap writing they got.)

And finally, FINALLY (IT TOOK YOU 10 EPISODES!!!), Phu can tell Nan that he promises to wait for Nan, to NOT LEAVE, that he will support Nan in Nan’s career. My gawd. Listen — if the writing was truly meant to indicate that Phu was a whiny, selfish B, at least THAT came off accurately and successfully. GAH.

And then Nan tries to do something sweet for Phu, coming back to surprise Phu — then gets himself lost in the air (???) (with no explanation as to how that all happened!), and Phu SCOLDS him — and then they bonk. OH. KAY.

Jeezus. It’s making me madder as I’m writing about it, ha. (And unfortunately, due to being in public places at the time of this writing, I haven’t even enjoyed the sessy parts — DOUBLE GAH!)

Listen, I LOVED the actors in this show. Take this show with Step By Step, and we’ve had some candy for those of us who really want to see more actors in their 30s and 40s in BLs. I really loved having a show with two fabulous-looking dudes working in work lives, and figuring out their shit in that context.

But The Promise undermined real emotional growth here. Unless Phu, this entire time, was MEANT to be, say, an Arthit-like character from SOTUS — all brick wall, not a single emotional point to give, totally self-absorbed — I mean. Now that I write that, I realize it’s true. He WAS intentionally written like that. I don’t want to believe it, but it has to be that way — for a character to scold his partner after the partner got into a near-death (we assume) plane situation. I’m shaking my damn head.

This show has so much potential. I am absolutely throwing my cup of kopi at the screen. I haven’t felt this negative about a show in a while — and I’m watching SOTUS S. I’m really bummed, because this show could have done so, so much more about internalized fear, maybe even internalized homophobia, and ran with it. It ran away from it.

#the promise #the promise meta #IT’S OVER #GOODBYE NAN AND PHU #although i’ll be watching the sessy times tonight when i’m situated again ha

[containatrocity]

Write my your last words (sissy > rusty)

It's an old envelope with her name on it. He'd told her never to open it- until, perhaps, he couldn't say the words himself because he was gone.

Hi, sweetpea.

I guess if you're reading this, then either you disobeyed me when I told you that it wasn't for you to open until I was dead... or I'm dead. I want to say I'm sorry, first and foremost. I... probably wasn't the best parent you could have had, Chester was always better at all this. Lee was always better at all of this. But both of them are gone, and things aren't looking like they're getting better around here- so I want... a contingency plan, I guess, just in case I'm gone next. I love you. you're... seventeen, now, when I'm writing this, and after seven years together I think we've both done a lot of growing. When I was your age, I ran away from home. I told your dad I never wanted to see him again, and I stuck to that- I shouldn't have. If I've done my job right, all these years, then I hope you know that people make choices that hurt, sometimes, but the ones who love us will keep trying- don't cling to an anger at somebody else to justify an upset with a completely different person. It'll rot at you, and I know, underneath the way you hurt too, you deserve to be happy.

Don't miss me too bad- you'll grow into- or hell, maybe by the time you read this already are- a damn good woman, you're kind, you're brilliant, and I know sometimes people see the first and assume the second isn't true. But you're destined for great shit, more than I ever was, and by god, I hope you're not reading this because I wanna see you be the etymologist or artist you always wanted to be. But if I'm gone before my time, then I'm fucking proud of you, and I always have been- you're all the best parts of your mama and your daddy in one person, and I'm damn lucky I had the opportunity to raise you for my own. I love you, I love you, I love you. Look after the house. Be good. Hug your friends just a little tighter for me, once in a while, make it a hug from me. Fall in love, with somebody, anybody. I know it's scary- but you deserve it more than anybody I've ever met.

I know you believe in something better than us. a power higher, a place of rest in the clouds. I did, too, you know. But I don't. Anymore. Instead, bury me in my blues, with no box to speak of, and when the honeysuckle springs up in the summer, when the mushrooms dot the forest and when your butterflies and beetles, Moths and morels make themselves known again, look for a few that linger too long. Listen for a Whip-poor-will that's a little off key but doing his best to bring breakfast home. Know I went back to what made us the happiest, when I was a kid too. Camping trips in the backyard, where I told you I knew everything because I was seventeen, just like you.

I didn't know a damned thing, you know? But you taught me some of the things that are the most important to me now. Keep learning. I'll see you through the eyes of the forest I gave my life looking after.

For now, not forever- Uncle Rusty.

#r.musings #this one is probably the only canon one unless stated otherwise it's just a lil thought experiment #r.sissy

[sacredglitch]

It's 'Thinking about OCs silently' time so have this piece that I wrote on a whim after listening to "What Once Was" by Her's on repeat.

TW: Death / Pondering Death (through memories)

Celebrations were in high spirits in the 141 Mess. Classic rock shaking the walls as each sector of the base celebrated another hurdle crossed into locating more insiders of Shepard's, though apparently nothing closer in locating the man himself. Laswell was hopeful that one of them would crack and reveal his wearabouts. Hope was enough for them to take a moment to breathe.

Murphy was asked by countless members if he was up for drinks, even challenged by Moggy to see who could drink either under the table best. He just laughed it off and let them all enjoy themselves.

For him, tonight was a different celebration. His hand traced the 3 year old tattoo.

Three fucking years.

Three years since he watched his commander give his last commands. Since he watched his fellow Lieutenant count from three to one. Since the door opened and they all swept into the room, one foot hitting off a trip wire and the room exploding into dust. First year he wasn't at home to remember them or visit them. First year it was just him.

Keeping their faces and voices alive.

He grasped the Guinness can and took a swig. How his Commander drank this like it was water was beyond him. But it kept him alive. To Malware at least.

Green eyes danced with the shadows in the Mess. He envied it. Being able to celebrate with a team you felt right in. Felt at home in.

Last he felt that was when Captain Donovan was harping at Corporal Fitz that he "Better kick those superstar calfs into high gear, now" as they jumped down from the Helo. Another swig of stout, washing the memory away with the taste.

"It's not a simple 'rest on it and it'll pass', Murphy" Clicker had once said in one of their sessions, "This could take years to finally settle with. A support system is crucial in healing."

Survivors Guilt, amongst PTSD and other labels was all he gained from that fuck up. He's still unsure if he should feel appreciative it was just them, not a limb or his life. Maybe his life would have be-

He huffed.

No, O'Rourke, no self depreciation.

One of the worst habits he taught himself after everything. That and taking the blame. He did not cause it. He couldn't change anything.

He needs to learn that.

Another swig.

Boots crunching on the autumn grass caught his ear but made no moves to acknowledge them, eyes solely focused on the obstacle course ahead. The steps halted just behind him. Ghost wouldn't let himself be heard, Soap would have made some calling to him, and Soup would have probably chucked her shoe at him. Other names floated in and out of his mind before they slammed to a stop; "Penny for your thoughts, Irish?"

Gaz.

A smile came to him, though he didn't let it go past his cheeks. If you thought Price or Wrench could be bad with their 'mothering', Gaz was much worse. Though more of subtle method to his loving madness, it could be just as smothering.

"A support system is crucial for healing."

Damn it.

He shook his head, gesturing to the curb beside him. Observing lazily, he noted the Sergeant was just in his down time clothes; a hoodie and slacks, no hat. Going off the direction he came from, he must have been with the other crew of celebrants; movie watchers. It was Roach's pick this time so fuck knows what kinda film was being shown. Most likely foreign, man had a weird love for them.

They all had a weird love for something, Murphy supposed. His eyes did catch a glint of a beer bottle. Not a completely sober film viewing then.

"As if I've got any thoughts to give." He teased back easily, swirling the can in his hand. "Movie any good?"

The younger shook his head, scrunching his face. "It was something sappy in Spanish. Think Alejandro had mentioned it last time him and Rudy visited. Couldn't make heads or tails on the love triangle so..." Gaz trailed off with a shrug, looking at the night sky. "Mess having any fun?"

Murphy returned the shake, eyes falling to the half empty can. "Nah, wasn't in there... I'm drinking on my own terms." He paused. "Though rumour has it Moggy has replaced me with Conor, fucking Maple syrup bastard."

Gaz let out a low whistle. "He in the dog house then?" Another tease.

"Too right he is!" he laughed then took another drink. "Fucker can fix his own damn PC next time."

The air around them began to ease, feeling more open and lax than it did when he started drinking. Garrick always had that aura to him. Even when he was just starting out in the base, the Sergeant never failed to make him feel at peace. The taste of guilt crawled up his throat. He took a short breath, then chased it away with more stout.

Brown eyes watched him before furrowing. "Thought you were a cider kinda guy?" Murphy forced a grin. "I am."

"You trying to prove to Conor who's the better Irishman?" "No."

A pause, Gaz taking that moment to reflect over Murf's tone. Cold. Closed off.

He swallowed some of his own beer before nudging the brunet gently "Penny is still on offer here."

Murphy chewed the inside of his cheek. Other than Price, Laswell and the medics, he's never spoken about the faith of his old team. He bonded over his tattoo with Conor, who seemed to put the pieces of the puzzle together after hearing his name and shared a few stories here and there but...nothing, nothing, to do with the incident.

Perhaps it's a sign that now is the time to start. He doesn't have to go into detail. He doesn't have to say more than "It's the anniversary of my ARW team passing."

Murphy is in control here.

His hands fidgeted with the can, rolling it and playing with the tab before letting his eyes rest on the course once more.

"I'm drinking in memory of my old team....They're three years gone now." His voice was wobbly and scratchy, as if he hadn't been speaking at all. But he did it. It's out in the air. Out for Gaz to listen and process it.

He had a small debate on downing the rest of the drink, yet he knew well his stomach wouldn't appreciate it. Another sip instead.

"... I'm sorry for your loss." Came the reply. He knows he shouldn't of but he laughed, loud but rough. He's never understood why people apologise for something they were they ever apart of. "Don't be, Garrick. Not like you caused it."

Another drift of silence, then a hand fell on his shoulder. "Being empathetic here, mate." Gaz mused, smile still light on his lips. Murphy met the hand before shrugging lightly.

"I get that, and it's appreciated, but..." he sighed, moving his free hand behind him to lean on it before adding "The phrase never made sense to me. Still doesn't."

His eyes only saw the kind and most certainly 'mother hen-ly' face Gaz had on him. Shithead definitely picked it up from Price. Almost spitting image.

"Guess it is a weird one. But I get the feeling of grief....Be surprised if anyone on this base didn't."

How many people here have to suffer from multiple grievancs at once? He couldn't help but think.

As far as he knew, Soup was the only one with a similar experience. Yet she seemed as if she was on top of the world. Murphy still felt as though he was on the rubble covered ground, the weight of his Commander's lifeless body against his. His fist clenched around the can, indenting it.

"So..." Gaz began, tone one of ease, as if he was trying to deviate a situation, "was someone in the Ranger's a hearty Guinness drinker?"

The Lieutenant nodded. "Commander was, yeah."

That made sense. Gaz hesitated before moving his hand from the brunet's shoulder to around his back. Murphy didn't make any movements to pull back, if anything he moved himself in a little further but couldn't meet Gaz's eyes.

Lifting his own bottle, he looked to the sky again and softly said "To your Commander then. And all your troops."

Guilt almost had him frozen in a vice as he lifted the can in solidarity. "To the Band of Brother's." It was a rocky start to dealing with their loss openly, but a start nonetheless.

#OC: Murphy Malware O'Rourke #cod oc #cod gaz #sgt kyle garrick #programmer oc #kyle gaz garrick #angst #but Gaz is a ray of light #liSTEN I SWEAR NOT ALL OF MAL'S LORE IS SADGE #this is as sad as it gets #it gets sm better from here #also potential gaz/OC #👀👀 #just saying #call of duty oc #OC writings

[devin-kin-ward]

Chapter 0: Before. An act of destruction sets off a domino effect

July, 1789. The people of France are dying from poor harvest and the government has failed to provide adequate supplies to them to compensate. A mob is forming in Paris, and in a matter of days, the Bastille prison will be stormed. People who stand against tyranny are gathering, demanding Justice.

But in a small home on a farm outside the city, an argument between brothers is unfolding.

“This isn’t up for discussion, Laurent!” The older brother says firmly, his voice barely soft enough to not disturb the sleep of the ill woman in the adjacent bedroom. Of course the words spoken are in French but they’ve been translated here for convenience.

“Yeah, it’s not. Because I’m not about to let you go running off for this.” The two brothers couldn’t be more different really. Andre, the older of the two, is a strong, righteous man whose fair hair and firm built spoke of what kind of person he was: diligent, determined, capable. Laurent by comparison was always the type to struggle at every turn, and while he could eventually achieve most things, the lack of consistency meant the darker haired brother had always stood in a shadow Andre had cast.

“Someone needs to take care of mother. That much we at least agree on. But the king is stuffing his fat face while we common folk die. I’m going to be part of the solution. I have to be. Which means you have to step up for once in your life and do the right thing here.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I do the right thing all the time. I-“

“Save it. I’m not going to listen to another one of your ‘I do things too’ speeches. We both know the only time you put your back into anything is when you don’t have the choice. Well you don’t have the choice. I’m going to Paris. Today. You’re stepping up here. End of story.”

“So that’s it? You just run off and die for some stupid beliefs, leave your sick mother and your little brother to fend for ourselves while your blood waters the streets?”

“I’m not going to die. I’ll survive this and anything else until Justice reigns over France.”

“You always do this kind of thing! You never once think about how your choices-“

“Not another damn word, Laurent! I break my back for this family every day. From the moment father passed I had to bend over backwards to make our ends meet. And now that even my best isn’t enough, I’m going to do something about it. Maybe while I’m gone you’ll learn something valuable… I’m going now.”

“And let me guess, you’re taking the horse?”

“Gonna need it to get to Paris. You’ll be fine without. You’re young, strong, and when you’re not screwing up, you’re capable.” As Andre turned to make for the door, a million thoughts rushed Laurent’s mind. His brother, who had always looked down on him, always made his life harder… or at least that was how Laurent saw it, was going to die and leave him horseless and helpless.

… well, helpless was a given, but maybe horseless didn’t need to be…

The younger brother barely even realizes what he was doing when he grabbed the knife off the kitchen counter. Anger, frustration, jealousy, hatred, malice, greed, envy, years of living in his brother’s shadow came to a single conclusion as the roughly made iron edge slipped between muscle and bone to stroke the older brother’s heart. He was going to die either way, right? Might as well leave the horse. Plus, now the pigs had something to eat.

As the blood of his brother stained his hands, Laurent let out a breath that he had no idea how long he’d been holding. Yeah, life was going to be hard. But at least now he didn’t have that shadow cast over him anymore. And it’s not like mother was going to be getting out of bed any time soon. This treachery, this sin, this was exactly what he’d always wanted all along.

As the last of his life left his body, and Andre looked at his brother, his killer, and felt no anger. No hate. Only sadness. He was sad his brother had hated him so much as to do such a thing. Sad his chance to enact justice in France would never come to pass. Sad his mother would never see him return home a hero. Sad his brother couldn’t support him in what he thought was right… and as the light left his eyes and he closed them for what would be the last time… a tap on his shoulder jolted him up.

Looking around, the world was exactly as he’d remembered it, only dimmer. Not because the sun had set, or because his eyes had clouded. But because all the light in the room was seemingly being absorbed to one place. Standing over him, two figures. One, an older man with silver hair and a dusted beard draped in a dark cloak, and the other, a radiant and beautiful figure, feminine in shape but masculine in build, with three eyes on their forehead, and two more between their normal eyes and their ears.

“You who thought of nothing but making the world better…” the seven eyes one spoke in a firm tone. “Normally, your end would be just that. But I would like to extend you an offer. Do you still seek Justice? Do you still wish to make the world a better place for everyone?”

#creative writing #supernatural story #spirits #demon #transcending #reincarnation #betrayal #destiny