#i have an easier time when I'm alone. life becomes easier to handle when i can do it on my own terms

[daz4i]

how is it. that for a whole week. the house smelled fine, and other than some dust and cat hair it was really clean too, and everything was organized and easy to find with no towers of dishes in the sink about to topple over. even tho i didn't clean that much or do anything out of the ordinary to keep the house this way. but now my parents have been home for like 3 days and already every room except for mine is inhospitable from how bad they all smell, and there's mess all over, and the table is constantly sticky, and the sink is somehow full yet barely has any dishes in it bc the way they're organized is so ineffective, and i hate it here i wanna leave so bad

#i know i probably can't run a place in the long term on my own. but. neither can they apparently!!!!! damn!!!!!!!! #idk if it's been getting worse recently or if my patience just runs thinner lately #the way they live is just incompatible with me and my needs really #ough ough ough i need to move out. I'm so scared. but it'll be good for me probably. #I'm just fantasizing abt a clean apartment. no sticky surfaces. no bad smells. mmmmm #vent #sorry i had to clean my brain out. it did help tho. i needed to complain abt this shit 😭 #today has been awful in part bc of that. the constant bad smells that stick to everything. the inability to do things when i need to #this shit makes me literally unable to function on even the most basic levels... like i didn't really eat or move much bc i felt so bad #i have an easier time when I'm alone. life becomes easier to handle when i can do it on my own terms #but I'm so scared 😔 and I'm stressed about the process of getting there too #maybe this is the reason I'm having stress nightmares these days idk. i need to send some files for that. but I'm too scared

[ghouljams]

but witch having a bad day bc somethings upset her n wanting price? Like n she struggles so much bc she knows if she was scared or hurt she'd pull bc shed have to and he'd be happy to help her out but rn she just wants price, not needs him. And price would be so over the moon when he feels the most tentative tug on the tether.

Istg thats how they finally become closer, when witch starts calling him when she wants him not just needs him

God I'm so fucking feral for them, they want each other so badly but neither of them wants to say anything for fear of scaring the other away. Even Price's flirting is such a cleverly disguised misdirect of his feelings. What do you mean he's in love, no no he's just flirting because it's fun, he's just naturally charming like this. And Witch literally can't stop her care from bleeding through into her spells, everything she gives Price is such a declaration, but God forbid she say she likes him or she might burst into flame. Anyway, here's some fluff for them, lowkey inspire by this video

People always assume that magic makes everything easier, that if they had access to the power you do they'd never have another bad day. The reality of magic isn't quite so... magical. It makes life easier sure, but only if you've prepared for the bad days in advance. Even then it's balm on a wound, an extra dose of ibuprofen for a migraine, another chore to upkeep if you want it to do anything to soothe the ache.

You can chart all the sigils you want onto your skin, but it doesn't unburden the ache in your chest. Doesn't relieve the burgeoning sadness or the sticky fingers of anxiety. There's no good reason for the dark cloud over your head, your day was hectic but you've handled worse. It's your hormones making your usually warm house feel cold and cavernous, making everything feel bigger and more terrible than it actually is. They make you curl into the corner of your couch, lonely, as you tuck your knit blanket under your feet.

There was a time that being alone didn't bother you. You've spent most of your adult life alone, content with phone calls and the occasional visit from your loved ones. Now your thoughts hover around wanting someone nearby, wanting to be held and comforted with physicality instead of words. You can't ask anyone for that.

Well, you suppose you could. You know one person who would gladly give you that. The idea of calling him is more embarrassing than calling one of your friends. You can't ask Price over for something so small, so self indulgent. Besides, you'd so quickly brushed off his concern when you saw him this afternoon. You'd feel like a liar asking for him now when you could hardly spare him time between the day's appointments. That doesn't stop you from wanting him, as much as you chastise yourself for it.

Your fingers toy with the tethers the lay against your skin. They're so gentle, hardly a spider's strand to their weight, easy to ignore. It's silly feeling your heart clench just thinking of how easy it would be to call him here. He's likely busy. The world outside your front window is dark, it wouldn't be worth his effort to even knock on your door. Wanting is so pesky. Your magic feels muddled, responsive to your desires but caged by your self imposed limitations. You try to think of something that could replace the feeling of having Price around when your ears pop. You tug sharply at your tethers as you turn to see what your wards are decidedly not biting.

Price rolls his shoulders with a pleased groan, "There it is, barely felt the first one." You untangle your fingers and wipe them against your blanket, as if you could erase the evidence of your wanting. Price walks around the couch to sit on the side opposite you. He drops heavily onto the plush cushion, leaning against the back with a sigh. He looks tired. You feel worse for having called him, you weren't trying to.

"I didn't mean to call you," You tell him. Price hums, his eyes closed as he rests his head against the afghan thrown over the back cushions. Having a guest in your house makes you feel restless. "I'll put a kettle on," You unbundle yourself, and slip your feet back onto the floor.

"Sit," Price tells you, commands you, as you start to stand. Your butt hits the cushion again in record time, the after effects of foreign magic shaking your fingertips as you draw your feet up again. "What do you need?" He asks.

You sigh, try not to feel like a huge fucking burden for a man who's really been nothing but helpful and understanding to you previous requests. You prop your cheek against your hand, going for casual. You're not sure if you sell it. "Nothing," you lie.

As if he'd believe that. Not when he could feel the soft pangs of loneliness with each brush of your fingers through the tethers connecting you. Price watches you tug your knees up to your chest, feels the lingering want on his skin, the clutch of his heart at the gentle look in your eyes. You're truly a terrible liar. Even if he hadn't felt your desires, he'd know you wanted something. You hardly look at him.

What about what he wants then? Is it easier for you to blame him?

He wants to hold you, wants to comfort you in the way you seem so desperate for. Why shouldn't he? Feeling you pull for him had tipped the rest of the world off his plate, it's just you, you're all he needs. All he wants.

"C'mere sweethear'," He holds a hand out to you, feeling your gaze touch his fingers. Your hesitation betrays you. "Unless you want me comin' over there," Price warns. You jump to take his hand, letting him pull you onto his lap. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as his hand grips your hair, your nose presses to his shoulder as you curl your legs to lean against him.

You smell like burnt magic, bitter and smokey. His hand digs under your shirt to rub your back, his lips insistent against your shoulder, your neck, your hair. You relax against him like unspooling thread, each muscle and line going slack in his hold. He can feel the crisp edges of whatever cage you sealed yourself in, his fingers starting to scratch at the dark swirls of it. You'll feel better if he pulls you out of it.

"Don't," You hum, your voice so sweet and tired, muffled against him.

"Not meant to keep everything cooped up love," Price reminds you. You make a quiet 'mmph' sound, arms starting to unwind from your tight grip on him. A threat you'll make good on if he isn't careful.

"Safer like this," You jerk a little closer when his blunt nails dig into the charcoal ink, the shiver of his attempts at breaking your magic making you feel electric. "Just hold me, please." You try a different approach. His fingers still, before every inch of his hold tightens on you.

"Thought you'd never ask," He mumbles. It feels like he can't get close enough to you, and after some maneuvering you're laying on top of him.

This you can do. You stretch out your legs, feel him shift underneath you, making sure you get as much contact with him as he can manage. Price bends his knee, the leg on the outside of the couch boxing you in carefully as you settle against his hip, your legs falling on either side of his thick thigh. He tugs a blanket over the both of you, keeping an arm around your shoulders. You forget sometimes, the way he dresses, that he is a well muscled man. You can feel the way each of them move and flex, the soft layer over them hardly disguising the raw strength that lays underneath.

You're safer like this, you think. Safer with him, always. Safe to want things without feeling like a burden. And even if you were a burden, he seems to say with a smile, I'd gladly carry it.

#Price's side of this fic is that he was sitting in the bar after a long day #felt literally the slightest touch from Witch and immediately focused all his attention on it #cataloguing what she was feeling as she touched his tethers #and plotting whether or not she was pulling for him #eerily silent while the rest of the 141 stares at him #before he just stands and apparates to Witch lol #tw periods #cod x reader #x reader #cod x oc #x oc #price x oc #john price x reader #captain john price #john price #john price x oc #john price mw2 #captain price #captain price x oc #captain price x reader #captain price cod #not to get too into it but I think the combination of blood and magic #makes periods sorta dangerous for witches #nothing better than magical blood for power hungry fae #which does mean Price gets a little feral when it's that time of the month #and like any other time of the month #Ghost and König get the same way with their darlings #fae!price #1fae1

[giddyfatherchris]

📱skz texts — how they react/comfort you (when you’re going through a rough patch with a friend)

| including. felix, han, hyunjin

warnings. none!

a/n. who am i 😮 posting two days in a row??😮 hehe sorry it took so long for the second batch to come! bang chan and lee know will be next<3 hope you enjoy babies xx tagging my sweet bubs @httpdwaekki as promised hope they measure up to your expectations 🙈

a/n. also i know these are ‘out of order’ but… whatever:)

changbin, seungmin & i.n

bang chan & lee know

Felix

He was just about to get into the car when he got your text.

He hefted up the last bags in before he smiled, knowing only from your words that you would be so happy with the surprise he had prepared for you. As he drove to your school, he reminisced on the last few weeks. 

His knuckles turned white from gripping the steering wheel as he remembered the first night you had arrived at the studio, crying. Your cheeks were red, and you looked so disoriented. You explained in between sobs that you fought with one of your best friends. School was easy for you, you had to put in your fair amount of work, but it did come to you easier than for other people, aka them. They let that jealousy grow and grow and had it become a nasty tumor hogging everything in its path. Until that one night when they held your success up against you, and it all exploded, leaving nothing in its wake. 

He tried calming you down, but it was one of those moments in his life when he felt the most unhelpful, helpless, and worried. You seemed to be reassured by his touch, but your breathing was still labored, a constant stream of tears flowing down your cheeks. He held you closer, thanking the universe he had been alone practicing, but he knew even if the whole group had been there, he would have let everything down to be there for you. 

Releasing his grip, he breathed through the memories and hung to the truth that it was now over. Yes, you still had to see that person from time to time in school, and they were still being incredibly pissy, but you no longer were hurt by their behavior and attempts at screwing you. Thanks to many, many nights spent with Felix, you talked everything through, and he helped you process the situation. He was so proud of the way you handled things, and since it had been a while since you two had the opportunity to have a special date he impulsively decided to organize this getaway. He smiled as he pulled to the curb, noticing your confused smile.

"Hey you, isn't tonight a recording night?"

"Not for me. We're going away," he answered with an enigmatic smile. He nodded for you to get in, "It's a surprise. Yes, everything is arranged. Yes, your bags are packed, and yes, I'm totally free to go."

You narrowed your eyes as he answered all your questions without you having to ask them. "And, where are we going?"

"I'm afraid I can't reveal that information yet."

You rolled your eyes, secretly delighted. "Okay then, can I ask why?"

At that, he settled and grabbed your hand. "Because I'm proud of you. I know it hasn’t been easy for you lately, but you've handled everything so well and managed to get out of it stronger. There was not much I could do to help, but I can do this. I think you deserve this little getaway for all the hard work you've been putting in."

"Lix..." your gaze softened with his kind words.

"No complaints will be accepted at this moment. You just have to sit back, relax, and let me handle it, sounds good?" He brought your hand to his lips, softly kissing it while his eyes scanned your reaction. 

"Sounds very good." You smiled back.

He kissed your joined hands once more before putting the car in drive. 

You let a beat of silence pass before you tried again with a pleading tone. "You really won't tell me where we're going?" 

He laughed at your impatience. "No baby." 

A smile wouldn't leave his face as he imagined your reaction when you would pull up in the entryway of the little cottage he had booked near the sea. He could already picture your eyes growing in size and your excited screams when you would see the blue waves and sandy beach. Felix felt his heart strain under all the love he felt for you, as he promised himself to keep doing these little things for you forever.

Han

He already knew everything about the situation happening with one of your friends. Honestly, he had a hard time understanding why they were suddenly turning against you. But then again, he always had a bad feeling about them and never thought they treated you half as well as you deserved. 

Still, he hated seeing you so affected by it. He understood why, but he hated feeling so unhelpful. He listened when you needed to vent and tried supporting you as much as he could, but he always felt like it would never be enough. So, when you texted him before heading home from work, hinting at how hard today had been, guilt started gnawing at him.

You got home about 20 minutes later. He was already waiting for you at the door. As soon as he saw the tired look on your face, the dark circles slowly settling under your eyes, his heart ached, but before you could notice his sad puppy eyes, he masked them with his warmest smile.  

"Hey pretty, how are you?" Immediately he took your bag from your hands and helped you take off your coat before wrapping you in a hug.  

"Could be worse, but could be better too," you sighed. "They were extra petty today, I'm not sure how to deal with this anymore."

He pulled back to grab your face, staring at you lovingly as he did. You looked back at him, the sight of his plush cheeks and chestnut eyes already easing the pain in your chest. "But, I'll be okay. I just want to think of something else. If you're still up for it, a movie night would be amazing." 

His face lit up with a sweet smile as he kissed the tip of your nose. "You can head up for a quick shower. I already started the heater and laid down some clothes for you. I'm taking care of everything."

As soon as you disappeared in the corridor he started creating the perfect setup. He made sure to bring all your favorite blankets, pillows, and plushies on the couch. When he heard the shower start he was already preparing hot beverages for the both of you, along with a few of your favorite snacks. He proudly looked at the final result, dimming the lights to create the perfect cozy ambiance. Han would have done anything you would have asked of him tonight. Still, as he looked at his work, a proud smile illuminated his features. As outgoing as he was, he always liked when you said you would rather stay in with him than go out. 

Your soft steps on the floor snatched his attention away from his thoughts. Your hair was still wet from your shower, your face bare, and as planned, you wore the matching pajamas he had laid out for you. You were now both rocking an adorable fuzzy set. His heart tightened at the sight of you, looking so relaxed and cozy. 

"Since you said you didn't know what to watch, I made a little selection."

You snuggled up next to him, listening to his suggestions before adding one of your own. "While I was in the shower I was thinking we could watch one of our comfort movies. If you want to, of course."

"Sure, what were you thinking of?" he asked as he handed you the remote and placed his arm around your shoulders to pull your body closer to his. 

You quickly typed in the movie title, and he felt a smile tug at his lips as he read it. "Are you sure you want to watch Howl's Moving Castle again? I made you watch it just last week."

You nodded confidently, "It's the first movie we've ever watched together and it gives me the best comfy vibes. So if you're down for it...?"

He only pressed play in answer, made sure you were snug in your fort of blankets, kissed the side of your head as you settled against him and the familiar soundtrack started playing.

"I wish I could do more to help you with this whole thing. I hope this still lessens your burden, at least a little. I'm sorry I can't do more." He whispered a few seconds into the movie.

You turned back to look at him, his hair falling in soft curls. The worried expression on his face made you want to hug him as tight as you could. Maybe then you would be able to squeeze it out of his body.

"It's perfect. I couldn't ask for a better partner to go through all this. You do not have to apologize. It's all more than enough." you kissed his plump lips tenderly, "You will always be more than enough." You added before focusing on the movie again, not seeing the beautiful smile now visible on the young man’s face.

Hyunjin

He stared at you in disbelief as you dropped to the floor from extenuation and frustration. You had barely closed the door that you laid your head on the wall and closed your eyes. Your handbag hung limply from your hands, and your coast rustled and creased from the awkward position you were in. He knew what this was about as it wasn't the first night you had assumed that position. The first time you did, a few days ago, he had panicked, thinking you had lost consciousness or were sick. Even if it was nothing of the sort, his worry was still called for when silent tears streamed down your face. That's when you first explained what you were going through, that you had made new friends at your workplace only to discover they were associating with you to steal your ideas. Hyunjin remembers your smile and shining eyes when you first came from work telling him you had made new friends. When you discovered they stole your ideas and presented them to your boss first, that dream had cruelly shattered. You had fought back and proven the ideas were yours, but still, the situation at work was horrible as they had decided to make it hell for you as revenge. Hence the exhausted slide down the door every night.

He crouched next to you, a silent support. "I'm sorry, give me two more minutes, and then I promise to get up and get in my pajamas." You sighed heavily.

"Can I ask you a question?" he softly spoke. You looked up before nodding silently. "If the situation has been solved, if you still have your job, and if your boss is happy you spoke up about it. Why do you still feel like this? I'm not trying to judge or anything I promise. I'm only trying to understand." 

You thought about his question, analyzing his features, so soft and open. "It's just so- conflicting? In a way? I mean, I feel angry at them for doing this to me, but I also feel guilty for ratting them out, even if they deserved it. And I'm angry at myself for not seeing through their schemes. It's just a lot of contradictory feelings. Plus, it hurts... I really thought they liked me at first. It hurts to know they never did, it doesn't help all the little voices telling me I'm worth dirt. I don't know, I've just been stuck in this stupid loop for a week now... I'm not sure what to do to get out of it." 

Even if he wasn't touching you, Hyunjin's attentive stare felt just as intimate. You loved that about him, how present he always was. You knew his silence was no indicator of his level of care. He stared a second more before suggesting, "You know what, I don't think you should get changed. I think we should do something different tonight. What would you say to go out?"

"What are you thinking?" you cautiously asked.

"I'm thinking you need a change of scenery. I think we should go out, have a drink, go for a little exploring, or we could even go to the amusement park! I think changing it up could help you get out of this loop you say you feel stuck in."

You stared at him in silence, weighing in the pros and the cons, still a spark lit your gaze. He dropped his chin on his knees and stared at you with his attentive eyes. You knew if you said you didn't want to go he would support you, but you also knew Hyunjin had that innate sense sometimes where he knew exactly what you needed before you even did. 

"What do you say angel?" he finally asked, slowly reaching out to wrap his slender fingers around yours. 

You simply nodded a slow smile spreading on your lips. For the first time this week, you felt the familiar pang of excitement.

You settled on going to the amusement park as it had been the thing that sparked the most interest in you. Your skin prickled as you neared the gate, it felt so refreshing, so new. You were about to head in when you heard a few familiar voices calling your name. 

You turned around to see Bang Chan, Lee Know, Changbin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, and I.N approaching you, broad smiles on their faces. You weakly waved at them as you looked at your boyfriend, a proud smile already on his face.

"I thought you needed to be reminded just how appreciated and liked you are. I'm truly sorry it turned that way with those assholes, but please do not let it make you doubt your worth. You are surrounded by people who love you and think you are the most amazing human being. Me on top of that list." He leaned in to kiss your temple while he pulled you in for a quick hug and you felt your heart overflow with joy at the gesture he had pulled and the seven excited boys joining you.

You truly were blessed with the most amazing people.

#ilya texts fics #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids texts #stray kids fluff #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han skz #felix skz #seungmin #i.n skz #felix x reader #han x reader #hyunjin x reader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Same as it ever was 6

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as neglect, bullying, manipulation, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Between your home life and work, you just can’t catch a break. Especially after you draw the ire of your boss.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen ft. Pete Brenner

Note: have a happy friday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Sunday gives you an excuse to get away. Pete, like a dog with his tail between his legs, doesn't even try to come up with an excuse to 'work'. You take Simone with you to the grocery store, warning the slug that he can handle Malik for a couple hours alone. You notice the pout in his lips but don't acknowledge it.

You don't need much but you take your time. You agree to buy Simone an Archie comic, shrugging off the extra few dollars as you notice her growing restless. You made her leave her book at home. You're happy she loves to read but she can't ignore the world all the time.

"You wanna get lunch?" You ask as you push the cart through the lot.

"Mm, I dunno," she drags her feet, "I'm tired."

"Probably 'cause you need to eat," you judge her with your elbow, "come on, how often is it just the two of us."

She grumbles but you ignore her reluctance. You're in no hurry to get home and you can scrounge enough for a sit down in the diner. It might be the last nice thing you can afford.

You load up the bags on the trunk and drive down the block to the same place you would take Simon when you were still pregnant with Malik. Those days were nice and so far behind you. The memory makes your heart ache.

You open the door ahead of Simone and follow her into the mom and pop shop. You're seated by the window in a booth. You order coffee as your daughter gets an apple juice. You peruse the menu but you're not very hungry.

"Oh, they still have the grilled cheese," you say.

"Yeah…" she continues to read the menu, nonplussed by your suggestion.

You tap your toe and cup your chin as you look out the window. It's a nice day even if you're gloomy inside. You turn back to the table and flip over the menu. 

The waitress returns with your drinks. You sip your coffee before you order a mac and cheese and Simone gets chicken fingers. You hand the menus over and smile at your daughter. She's old enough, she'll catch on soon.

"So, what's your latest adventure about?" You ask.

"Uh, well, I just read one about a knight. She's a girl and she goes off to fight an army of trolls…"

You immerse yourself in her retelling of the children's novel. You don't care, it's better than reality. You giggle and smile as she becomes more animated. She can be so monotone but her passion makes you proud.

A figure approaches, breaking your trance, and you look over expecting the waitress. To your chagrin, it's not.

You grip the edge of the table as Simone's voice peters out and she looks at the man with her cool deadpan. You clear your throat, fighting the urge to reach across and shield her. Mr. Hansen smirks down at you as he glances between you and your daughter.

"Funny running into you here," he snickers, "enjoying your weekend."

"Just having lunch," you say crisply, "hope you're having a good Sunday."

You turn straight on the bench and look at Simone as you gesture for her to face you. She frowns as you try to come up with an escape plan. You don't even know what to say and he's not going anywhere.

"Oh I'm having a wonderful weekend. Look at you, how cute, this must be the spawn."

"Spawn?" Simone murmurs, "hey, what's your deal, guy?"

"Sim," you wave her off, "that's good to hear Mr. Hansen. I hate to keep you so–"

"Room for one more?" He winks.

"Ew, no," Simone speaks before you can, "mom, tell him to go away."

"She's mouthy. Not hard to guess why," he scoffs.

You slide off the seat and stand, stepping between him and the table. You arch a brow, pleading with your hands out.

"Please, sir, we're just enjoying a meal out. I'll see you tomorrow. At work."

He watches you, his amusement playing on his face. He's enjoying seeing you squirm, just like before. He always knows the most sensitive spot to hit. Your kids would be top of the list.

"Tomorrow," he winks as he leans back on his heel, "we got a special meeting, don't we?"

"Sir," you hiss.

He chuckles and rolls his eyes, "alright, ladies, enjoy your lunch."

He backs up and struts away. You don't sit until he's out the door. What on earth is he even doing in a place like this? It's not exactly a Michelin star experience.

You settle back in and swallow, turning to watch out the window. He isn't in his usual suit but still dressed nicely. A peach polo peeking out under a teal bomber jacket and canary pants. Tacky if you say so yourself.

"Who was that weirdo?" Simone asks.

"My boss," you lean back, "just saying hi."

"He's strange. Like the villain in the book I was reading," she scowls out the window, "you need a new job."

You laugh despite yourself, "you have no idea. First things first, I'm starving."

🗄️

You get home, exhausted. You put away the groceries and tidy up. Of course Pete couldn't clean up after making a mess of the kitchen for a simple PB and J. You sigh as you finish and look in on the kids in the living room.

Malik colours as Simone creases her brow at her book. You hear Pete outside working on his Corvette. For a brand new car, it sure needs a lot of maintenance.

You tell the kids you'll be upstairs if they need anything. You go to the bedroom and open the closet. You're so anxious about tomorrow, you may as well get ready to face the music.

You pick out an outfit. Nothing special. You don't have anything fashionable. It's not like you need more than a striped blouse and worn black pants. You just don't want to come back up there to grab it all in the morning.

As you come downstairs, you hear Malik giggling. You peek in through the doorway with your armful of clothing. Pete sits on the floor at the coffee table beside the boy and scribbles with a crayon. He meets your eye as you pass and gives a sheepish smile. You shake your head and keep going.

You open the door to the basement and the cool air sweeps around your descent. You put the outfit on the folding table beside the camping cot. Your first few nights have been less than comfortable. As cozy as your own marriage.

You check the dryer and take out the towels, folding them on the top and stacking them there. You hear footsteps on the stairs. You keep your back to the airy space.

"Hey," Pete says. You're not surprised. He keeps trying to corner you. "So…"

"Busy," you grab a basket and set the towels in it.

"Hm," he stops only a few feet from you, "Simone said you ran into someone. Your boss."

"Yup. Nice guy," you utter dryly.

"I thought Mandy was your boss."

You roll your eyes as you lift the basket and turn, "one of many. She's up in York now."

"Ah…" he hangs his head, gripping one hip, "a lot's changed."

"I'm not in the mood to talk so let's not do this."

He huffs and steps into your path. He puts a hand on the basket. He looks you in the face.

"I will be home every day at six–"

"Too late."

"Please, can't I just try? Can't you?"

"Me? I tried, Pete," you snap, "come home at six anyway. The kids will be happy."

"What about you?"

You stare at him grimly. Your eyes tingle and you look away. Your chest rises and falls.

"I haven't been happy in a long time. Don't think I will be again," you shrug and pull the basket away, striding past him, "I didn't make you happy either, did I?"

He huffs and trails after you as you cross to the stairs. As you go to make your ascent and he grabs your arm and spins you back to him. Before you can react, he snatches the basket from your grip and places it on the stack of rubbermaid bins by the wall.

He puts his hands on your arms and pulls you against him. He leans in and you turn your head, his lips crashing into your cheek. You shove on his chest and growl.

"What are you doing?" You pinch by his ribs.

"Baby, please, let me make it up to you–"

"Don't touch me," you push on him, "get off."

"I love you. I mean it–"

"Stop!" You hit his chest again but he doesn't budge, instead wrapping his arms around you, squeezing the breath out of you. How is he still so strong when you only ever got weaker? "Pete…"

"You can't walk away–"

"You already did," you keep your voice down, mindful of the open door above.

"Let me try. I wanna make love to you–"

"Pfft, yeah right. Go get tested and I might even consider letting you hold my hand," you snarl, "get off of me now."

"Wha– I'm clean–"

"Get!" You bring your knee up and feel it collide with his crotch. He releases you and staggers back, cupping his most precious possession. "You're a dirty fucking weasel."

You turn and pick up the basket and stomp up the stairs as you hear him whimpering. Serves him right. You can't help but smile at the ounce of power you feel in that moment. 

🗄️

Monday morning both too quickly but not fast enough. You get up with the kids and get them ready for school, filling a thermos of coffee for yourself. You drive them to school and send them off with dread in your chest.

For a moment, you idle outside the school. You miss the days when you only worried about spelling quizzes and dodgeball. You hope at least your kids never end up where you are.

You follow the crawl of traffic out of the school zone and reluctantly steer towards work. You yawn and drain half your thermos before you get to the office. As you shoulder your bag and look up at the corporate facade, you feel the world threaten to crumble around you. No, not the whole world, just yours.

You enter behind a few others and try to find your courage in the elevator. You peek over at your coworkers; you recognise two but the other you don't know. There's not much workplace camaraderie, more of an understanding to get your work down and clock out.

You follow them out and go to your desk. You sit and pop the lid off of your thermos. Just enough to get you through this. You don't unpack your lunch, certain you won't be eating it there.

You turn on your PC and sign in. You're in no hurry to get started on work. Your calendar pops up with the internal schedule reminder. There it is, a meeting in ten minutes. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You get up and go to the bathroom. You can do this. You dealt with your scoundrel husband, you are still moving, you're not dead in the water.

But how do you survive this? Do you beg? You quit and take the loss? No you can't. You need this job and if you get fired, at least you'll have a hope at severance. 

You avoid your reflection. That old woman isn't you. You go out and check your watch, pausing as the shine of your rings gleam in the fluorescent light. You slide them off and put them in your back pocket. 

You check the schedule one last time and go to tbe meeting room. There's no one there as you find the door shut. It's clearly empty on the other side of the windowed walls. You lean against the plaster and tap your sole.

"Ah, there she is. How's it goin', toots? You need some chamomile? The chairs sure are comfy, aren't they?" Mr. Hansen struts down with his hands in his pockets.

"Sir," you greet flatly. He's mocking you. Jokes on him, you're always tired. 

"Come on," he twists the handle and swings the door open so that it bounces on the hinges, "get moving."

You don't react to his crass tone. You merely step into the room as the light flicks on as the censor picks up your movement. You walk along one side of the table as Hansen shuts the door.

You hover behind a chair as he goes along the wall and tugs each cord to repel the blinds down, blocking out the hallway. Uneasiness bubbles in your stomach as you watch him. You expected him to make your humiliation public.

"Have a seat, honey buns," he faces you, approaching the other side of the table.

You sit and fold your hands on the table top. He has no paperwork, not even a computer. You wonder what exactly is going on. 

"Is someone from HR–"

"Look, let's keep the sticklers outta this," he waves you off, kick one foot out as he shifts his weight to one hip, "unless you really want a disciplinary slip. Me, personally, I can't be fucked with that paperwork."

You frown and flatten your hands on the table, trying to keep your anxiety from showing. He looks at the gesture and tilts his head. His cheek dimples and he snorts.

He doesn't comment. Not at first. He paces up and down the table and bites his thumb. 

"Alright, let's get to business," he stops at the end, close to the corner, "what are you willing to do to keep this job?"

"Sir?"

"Pretty daughter you got. Probably eats up that paycheck in no time. All those cute shirts and ugh, the growth spurts–"

"Mr. Hansen," you swallow, "please, I don't think my family has anything to do with this."

"They have everything to do with this," he insists, "let's not pretend."

"I'm not– I'm sorry I fell asleep. It won't happen again."

"I gave you an out. All you had to do was put your hands down my pants and you could've napped in the boardroom. No problem. I do it all the time," he snickers, "but no, you're a stubborn little bitch. Makes me wonder what the old man sees in ya. Really, cause a tight ass ain't fun unless you get inside–"

"Mr. Hansen," you exclaim, revolted by his lewd words.

"Whatever he's doing, he's not doing it right. You need to loosen up, toots," he runs his thumb across his mustache, "and that little girl won't be so proud of mommy if she ends up working at Burger King like some stoner teenager–"

You sputter, heat creeping up the nape of your neck and speckling down your body. You shake your head. Did he know or is it a lucky guess? Either way, you don't have the energy for this. You're done being a joke for men.

"Just spit it out. What do I have to do?" You sneer as your hands ball.

His lips slant and he smothers a noise in his throat. He slowly walks closet until he's right beside you. You turn the chair to face him as he leans down and puts his hand on yours. He unfolds your fingers and feels along the indents left by your rings.

"Looks like trouble in paradise," he winks, "well, I'm the good kinda trouble. Trust me."

You stare at him. You're not as naive as you once were. There's no denial here. This is real life, a bitter pill you need to swallow.

"That's it? A hand job and I keep my job?" You squint.

He laughs and cups your chin, "oh, you think that's it?"

You can't help but let your surprise bleed through. Your not some young hot thing. Is he just trying to rub salt in the wound or is he serious?

"I…"

"Hand, mouth, cunt, ass, tits," he pulls away as he lists of each word, "you look in tact for the most part. But most importantly…" he shoots you with a finger gun, "you're desperate. What more could I ask for?"

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #pete brenner #dark pete brenner #dark!pete brenner #lloyd hansen x reader #pete brenner x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #same as it ever was #the gray man #pain hustlers

[cobrabobra]

Dating Carl headcanons:

I think the most important part that people often forget about Carl is a teenager, ani insecure one. How could be not be if he literally has a hole in his face?

He surely knows that his skills are exceptional, that he knows how to handle things, that he's brave and pretty fucking cool, but every teenage boy has his insecurities and Carl is no exception.

I could imagine him being anxious after arriving in Alexandria, seeing that there are boys his age, he begins to think that maybe you'd leave him, that he was your boyfriend because he was the only choice.

He constantly tries to show you that he is in fact the best option for you, trying to protect you, provide for you, going on runs alone just to get you something. He's willing to risk his life just to make you see what he'd do for you.

And that brings another problem, Carl risking his life all of the time. Going alone to the woods, going to the Sanctuary, provoking Negan and his people. But I think that's a mix of frustration, being angry at how things are and wanting to change them and the need to show everyone that he's independent and capable of handling himself.

Another one of Carl's insecurities is not being able to express his emotions very well, he's used to bottling everything up until it explodes and he doesn't want to do that to you, but he doesn't know how to do it differently. He's scared to share, scared that you won't care or be troubled by it when you already have a lot of things on your head, he's scared that you'll get scared of him, that he'll push you away if he shares.

He never considered himself as handsome, he always was the pretty boy type, but that didn't bother him if it didn't bother you. Well, it didn't bother him until he got shot, then he wasn't pretty or handsome or anything other than a disgusting, ugly freak. He tried to hide that it bothered him, that he felt you didn't love him anymore, that you were scared of him, or grossed out. Which you probably were, everyone would be, but it quickly became normal, it wasn't gross or scary, it wasn't beautiful, it was normal, it was a part of him.

"Carl, are you here?" you knocked on the bathroom door, he was in there for quite a while and you were worried. "Can I come in?"

"No, please, don't" his voice was weak and shaky, like he was crying.

"Carl, please. At least tell me what's happening" you begged, your heart beating hard in your chest, you were scared, you needed to know what happened.

"It's just- it's my eye" he sighed, trying to calm himself, he didn't want to look weak in front of you. "I'm okay, just don't come in"

"Alright, I won't. Just- you know I love you, right? Nothing will change that" it was a promise, it didn't matter what he'd look like, what he'd become.

Carl never fully accepted his eye, but it became easier to live with it, thanks to you, he understood that this was a part of his body, that it can't be changed and that it didn't change anything between the two of you, that helped a lot.

You helped him a lot, not just with the way he looked at himself, with his emotions, but you saved him countless times, you cared for him, protected him and he wanted to do the same for you. He never was the best with expressing his feelings so that was his way of showing you his love.

You still did the usual couple things, holding hands, kissing, cuddling, fuck, Carl started to panic the second you were beyond his reach. You were his safe place and he needed you all the time.

It's just the talking about his feelings part that was hard for him.

He wasn't the romantic type, he didn't get you flowers or jewelry, but he made breakfast for you when he woke up before you, he made sure to wrap you up in a blanket when you were taking a nap on the couch. He showed his love through doing these little things for you.

He loves spending time with you, baking together, reading together, taking care of judith together, going on walks together, showering together, everything you did, he wanted to be close, to keep an eye on you.

But that doesn't mean he's clingy, he wants to be near, not to sit in your lap and kiss you all the time (he kinda does want to, but he doesn't do it).

If anything happens to you, I pity the fool that tries to stop Carl from being with you. He'll kick and punch, threaten and beg, anything to be there for you when you need him.

And if someone did something to you, don't worry, they're already dead, we all know that Carl's a little psycho and he'll do everything for his family. He tries to be calm and rational but if somebody lays thair hand on you he simply can't control himself, plus it's not like they don't deserve it.

He'd try to be his best self for you, it was because of you that he wanted Negan to live, he lost himself for a while and you pulled him out of it, because of that he believes everyone, well maybe not everyone, most of the people deserve a second chance, people can change.

He knows you're both young, maybe too young for him to even think about it but he can imagine having a family with you. The way you take care of Judith, hold her in you arms, the way you talk to her, kiss her forehead, play with her, he wants that for his own kid.

He wouldn't settle for just any ring, if he proposes, he's doing it right. He searches for not only the prettiest ring but also the coolest looking one.

When it comes to touching, Carl isn't particularly clingy, but he likes to keep a hand on your thigh, squeeze it a little, tease you. I think there's a lot of teasing, he can be cruel sometimes.

But you teasing him? No, that's not happening, not on his watch. He's too impatient for that, too vulnerable in a way.

He likes to kiss you, a lot. Good morning kisses, goodnight kisses, you look so pretty today kisses, all of them.

"Morning" he said, his voice raspy and tired, his eyes still half closed. He hugged you from behind, his chin resting in your shoulder, his hair tickling your neck.

"Morning" you said, smiling a little, he was so cute like this. "I'm making eggs"

"Mhm" he didn't care about some eggs. He took your chin in his hand and made you look at him, he wasn't harsh or anything, his movements were slow and delicate. He placed a sweet kiss in your lips and it has you melting into his arms.

"Breakfast will be ready in a minute" you turned your head, your cheeks were slightly pink, he never failed to make you blush, not even after doing this hunderds of times. "Wash your teeth"

Carl can be rash sometimes, like when he's really excited, horny or after a fight, adrenaline buzzing in his veins, he'd pull you in for a hungry, desperate kiss, his fingers digging into your hips, his crotch pressed against yours, but he's usually delicate with you, unless you want him to be a little rough.

He's a caring lover, tending to your every need, he'd be a loving father and a great leader, but only with you by his side.

Hope you enjoyed and thank you for your kind words under my daryl headcanons.

#carl grimes x male reader #carl grimes x reader #twd x reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes x you #carl grimes headcanons

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Mr Gaiman,

I just watched episode 6 of The Sandman and really loved the portrayal of death. Before the pandemic I was always sad when my patients died, and sadder still for the people they left behind, but I could handle it knowing that I made their passing easier and was there for their families. When death said that she gave them "a friendly face at the end of their journey, just as they had at the start" it really resonated with me. That is essentially what we nurses do, and often after caring for someone repeatedly over the years the last thing we do for someone is to help them through their final transition. The way death held those people's hands and guided them to the afterlife made me thing of all the times I've held a persons hand as they left the mortal realm. I like to think of death taking their hand from mine and escorting them to the afterlife.

I have to admit since the pandemic, I've been struggling with death. I worked on a ward that primarily cared for post-COVID lung transplants. I saw so many people die before their time, and die so horribly. Worse still, we would fight and fight and think we were making headway only to have them snatched away unexpectedly. I've been off work for 7 months with PTSD and I'm not sure if I can ever return. I miss nursing, I've made an important difference in so many lives and I'm not ready to give that up. Without it, I feel like my life has no purpose, but every time I am faced with death old wounds open up. I couldn't even watch that episode of The Sandman without crying. Heck, if I'm honest, I'm crying writing this now.

How do I become OK with death again? Intellectually I know it is a natural part of life and I've always been so good dealing with it but that part of me seems to be broken. I need something that can soothe my pain on an emotional level, something that can help me find peace with the pain and loss. I'm not a religious person and trite answers like people "going to a better place" doesn't mitigate the sheer unfairness of the pain of those left behind and lives unfairly cut short. How can I get to a place that lets me do what I love again??

Crying probably helps. So does taking a break, if you can, from that part of your job, until you are ready to return. Sometimes it gets to you, and it’s obviously got to you, and that’s not anything to feel guilty about. Death is big and loss is real. Finding someone to talk to is good too, if you can.

My friend Hayley Campbell wrote a book about Death. She went into it because she loved the subject. She talked to people who deal daily with death in all its aspects. And then one day she saw a baby’s body about to be autopsied and it broke her. I think in some ways she’s still putting herself back together.

(The book is All the Living and the Dead, it’s not for the squeamish although I’m pretty squeamish and I survived, and it made me cry a few times.

Here is an Amazon link. If you are interested, get it from your local bookshop if you can. It may help you to feel less alone, although I don’t know if it will heal what is hurting you. Perhaps only time can do that.)

[peanutbutterand]

i miss you, i'm sorry; lmh

 in which alcohol and a broken heart prompts you to make a phone call to your ex.

~ Angst with a capital A. 

wc: 1.6K

Reference(s): “I miss you, I’m sorry” written by Grace Abrahams and a line from Notting Hill directed by Roger Michell

~

“I miss you”

The flashing lights seemed to somehow mute the chaotic noise around you. Head hurting, mind overwhelmed, and still, your fingers unconsciously danced across the screen of your phone, typing a number you had deleted months ago.

Some things don’t stay the way they're supposed to. Out of sight, out of mind right? Funny how all logic and rational thinking is suddenly muddled by the denial of a broken heart. 

“y/n.”

If it weren’t for the alcohol in your system, you’d cry at the sound of his voice. Instead, the concern in his tone forced a bittersweet smile to form on your face.

He shouldn’t be worried, he shouldn’t have even answered. But he did. And you hated that you knew he would. Because even in your drunken state, it was so natural for you to go back to him. 

“You promised.” 

You felt pathetic. Clinging onto his promises of forever, even when you fought his declarations towards the end of your relationship. The need to be right overpowering the need to be loved.

It was careless, taking everything you loved and disputing it with cruel words driven by a fixed mindset. And he did the same. Hurt people hurt people, because no one wants to be hurting alone. 

You did your best to move on. You really did. It was easy at first, fueled by anger and pinpointing all the blame of your failing relationship on him was something you did with your head held high. 

And then all of a sudden, your pride became too hard to swallow and all the hate you spewed ricocheted in the forms of longing and regret. 

You often found yourself reminiscing about fights in his apartment and the disappointment that came with broken dishes, just to get a glimpse of him.

Because he was always readily available in your mind, whether it be in the form of heartbreak or not. And the extent to which you would willingly fall back into these moments only resulted in any progress of moving on to slip through your fingers.

“y/n, where are you?”

How do you move on from someone who is so deeply engraved into your mind, someone who has touched every part of you with sweet kisses and gentle hands, someone who starts your thoughts and always ends them.

For these reasons, your doubts and hesitations were not baseless. Because how do you move on from someone you once promised forever to? It almost seems wrong to do so. 

“I don’t know what to do Minho. Everywhere I go leads me back to you. Everything I know brings me back to us.” 

There was so much to say, so much you wanted to tell him. It was desperate and embarrassing, but others might say you were simply in love; that you were just a girl, talking to a boy, asking him to love her. 

“Y/n, please….go home.”

“I can’t.”

“Y/n–”

“Every corner of that fucking house is haunted Minho.” 

It was suffocating. Home was no longer home but a place filled with traces of his presence. Bittersweet reminders of the life that once flourished remained in every room.

His coffee cup in the cupboard, his hoodie tucked away in your drawer, the silly love notes he left embedded into your books, his morning kisses, his laughter, his smile, him. 

He was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Even in his absence, he was consuming you. So no, you wouldn’t go home, you couldn’t. Because the definition between home and Minho seemed to blur overtime. 

“I don’t know what to do anymore."

The drunken daze was now fading away, your clouded mind becoming overwhelmed with the sober emotions that flowed through your body, because they were one in the same when you were drunk, just easier to handle in a state of intoxication. 

“I thought you hated me.”

Such a statement was not meant to be laced with the gentleness he evoked, so much so, a certain heaviness clung to your chest. For the reminder of the three words you spewed at him the last time you spoke will forever bring feelings of angst and regret. 

“Minho…”

Some things are better left unsaid. Until the time comes when those things are all you can think about, clouding your judgement and cultivating a narrative of missed opportunities guided by the words “what if”.

You had many. And they creeped up on you, leaving you lost in your thoughts of love that you’ll never be able to live, at least, not with him.

But not was not the time to wallow in your self pity and despair. Not after all the time you had dedicated to pondering over the “what ifs” and certainly not when the person these “what ifs” revolved around was here, listening to you. 

“I was angry and upset and desperate to hurt you. I don’t hate you—I never could. I’m sorry.”

The slow sigh that ran after your words displayed your relief more than you intended. Thinking back to the last time you spoke to him was routine for you.

But this time, instead of being tormented by the hurt laced in the memory of that night, you were now comforted by the fact that your truth was now something he knew.

And you weren’t going to deprive yourself of his, no matter how much it may break you. You were in too deep to consider that now. 

“Do I still make you sick to your stomach?” 

It was his turn to let out an audible sigh. And it seems as though you weren’t the only one reminiscing back to that night; for his response appeared to be nurtured with time and consideration.

“No y/n, you never did. You never will. I didn't mean that. I wish I had ever said those words to you, but I did. I’m sorry.”

It’s one thing to say something. It’s another to mean it. And it felt nice to hear he didn’t. You knew he could never have meant it, but the assurance you experienced upon his confession pulled apart the remaining angst embedded in your memories. You could only hope he felt the same.

It was cold outside. Somehow, your feet carried you out of the stuffy place, the moon illuminating the still street, a complete contradiction to your surroundings a few seconds ago. 

The silence seemed to emphasize your acknowledgement of everything that had happened and was happening. The phone pressed to your ear. The quick beating in your chest. The familiarity of the slow breaths he took as you listened. Your boldness. His patience. 

“I’m sorry I called. I know we said we weren’t talking—”

“I miss you too.”

You almost didn’t catch it. His voice low and quiet, almost as if the statement was a passing thought that had slipped past his tongue. But you caught it, as did your denial, that after all this time, he too missed what once was.

A part of you wished your ears had been deaf to his words. Because the way your hand fell to your chest, the way it felt as though your heart had paused, the way tears immediately lined your waterline, was the same way you recognized exactly how much you missed him.

One step forward and three steps back is the damage his words did. But you started it first, and it was only fair to finish what you started. 

An absent smile lined your lips with tears falling down your face. Your tears were warm against your cold skin and you so badly wanted the warmth to stay.  

“Everything we were scared of happening, happened Minho.”

“Nothing happened in the way we wanted Y/n.”

Your absent smile turned bittersweet, fingers gently grazing your cheek in an attempt to catch the warmth from your eyes. You were right. And he was too. They say that nothing that is meant for you will ever get away, so why did he?

“Is this better for us y/n?”

It’s hard to make peace with something you don't entirely agree with. He hurt you more than anyone else has. But he loved you better than anyone ever did. 

“I don't know. I’m still confused.” 

Your eyes shut, squeezing what was left of your tears out. 

“I do know that I was really happy with you, we were happy together. And we were really good to each other.”

You went into this conversation with hope and uncertainty. It was only normal for that hope and uncertainty to cultivate into doubts and hesitation. He didn’t deserve that. And you didn’t want to make things worse than they already were. Not now. Not ever. 

“But….”

“But we’ve been here before. And I want to love you because I love you, not because I need you— I missed you Minho…..I miss you. I’m sorry.” 

And in an instant, no sound came from his phone. Your voice, gone, as if it were never there.

Gone before he could familiarize himself with the highs and lows of your tone. Gone before he could tell you to not cry, for he recognized the tell tale signs that you were. Gone before he could say everything he wanted to say and more. 

And perhaps that's why he continued to hold the phone to his ear, head falling to the back of his couch as he allowed the words he meant to say to you, the second your name appeared on his phone, break free from his lips.

Barely a mumble, but with his whole heart and all his truth. 

“I still love you, I promise.”

#lee know #lee minho #lee know x reader #stray #straykids x reader #straykids #straykidsangst #stray kids angst #angst #skz imagine #skz imagines #hyunjin x reader #skz #skz scenarios #stray kids #bangchan x reader #hwang hyujin imagines #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids imagines #hwang hyunjin #minho x reader #minho #skz minho

[urlranpo]

Boyfriend Ranpo | Bungo Stray Dogs

a/n These are just some general headcanons. I'm sorry for making this so long, sometimes I just have a lot to say about a character. Especially Ranpo because he's like one of my favorite characters. enjoy!

+++++

It looks like it's so hard to fall for Ranpo with his cocky attitude and childish behaviors, but somehow, it's so much easier than it seems.

He will know you have a crush on him before you do, but he won't say anything about it. He's still unsure about his feelings for you. Does he like you, or does he like the attention you give him?

He might be a little shit, but he wants to be fair to you.

It might take a while, and some courage, but he'll eventually come to the conclusion that he does like you. How you ever put up with him in the first place is a mystery, but he's grateful for your patience.

One day he just decides that you're his and announces it, and of course, you're confused af.

What's the problem? You like him, he likes you, it only makes sense the two of you go out, right?

You're not opposed in the slightest, but it's very sudden. And he knew you liked him?? Of course, he knew, but still could've said something sooner.

You might have to have a private talk with him later, and surprisingly he's very serious and admits that he's liked you for a while, he just wasn't sure how to approach it since he was new to all this.

When the two of you start officially dating, it's almost like nothing has changed between the two of you. He gives you more attention than anyone else, but he was already doing that before you were dating.

There is one thing that has become different, though. As much as he's extroverted and boisterous in front of everyone else, when you're alone with him, he's somehow shyer than you remember.

Like said before, he's new to all this. He doesn't entirely understand romantic relationships, so he would appreciate a little push here and there, but most importantly, patience.

Ranpo will eventually get used to being in a loving relationship with you, and he won't be as awkward when you're alone. In fact, he becomes 20x clingier.

Your first kiss with him was very spontaneous. The only thing you were doing was talking about your day, and Ranpo comes out of nowhere and leans into to give you the softest kiss of your life. With all the sugar he eats and drinks, his lips feel like pillows. And of course, he acts oblivious about it.

He's very affectionate with you and shamelessly displays that affection in public. Why should he care what anyone else thinks? He adores you and he can't help it when he's "y/n attention deficit." When he does it at the ADA, he get numerous groans, but he doesn't care. He basically runs the place anyways.

Very reluctantly, Ranpo will share his treats with you. But you're the only person who is allowed to touch his candy and know where he stashes it. Loves it when you feed him his candies, saves him some of the work of unwrapping them.

A fun hobby of his is teasing you. There's nothing that makes him giddier than seeing your flushed face when teases you. You look so cute, and the fact that he can get such a reaction from you is stunning.

Isn't the type to be big on taking you on fancy dates. He honestly believes any quality time with you is a date. So, more likely than not, you're going to be the one to do any date planning if you're into that. Unless you push him (or Fukuzawa tells him he needs to treat you better) Ranpo won't usually plan any dates.

He will introduce you to both Fukuzawa and Yosano if you haven't already met them. They're the two people who feel the most like family to him and it's important that you all get along.

He will do everything in his power to protect you. Now, Ranpo isn't the strongest in the agency, but he is the smartest. Many of his decisions are meant to, not only keep the ADA and city protected, but to keep you safe.

Honestly, Ranpo doesn't know how he'll handle it if you were to get hurt. He would blame himself forever because he knows there's probably something he could have done to prevent it. So, make sure to reassure him if at all possible because you will get hurt sometimes, but it's in no way shape or form his fault. He can't control everything no matter how much he thinks he can.

Serious arguments aren't a common occurrence between the two of you. Most fights are over something stupid that aren't that deep. The "angriest" Ranpo has ever been with you was when you ate the last of one of his favorite candies. He sulked all day and refused to talk to you until you got him some new ones.

If there ever was a serious argument, he wouldn't exactly know how to deal with it. He doesn't like fighting with you at all. If he's the one that caused the problem, he becomes timid and would give you a moment to cool down before he apologized with his hat in his hands.

But if you were the one who caused it, he would be a little bit of a dick ngl. He would use his logic and just take you down a peg. He doesn't really realize he's being mean until the two of you take breather away from each other.

After it all, no matter who's fault it was, all Ranpo wants to do is be held. You both can talk or watch tv, he doesn't care as long as you're cuddling.

Overall, Ranpo might be a little conceited and a bit of a know-it-all brat, but he's your brat that you're stuck with forever. He could never imagine himself with anyone else.

Smut Below

+++++

He's an enigma when it comes to the sexual stuff.

Ranpo has never been too experienced in the romantic department, so he's definitely not well versed in intimacy either. But he's not completely clueless.

He knows of some things, and there were countless amounts of people he's met on his cases that tried to get him in bed.

Always thought it wouldn't be a big deal to have sex, but when he realized he loved you, he became a little nervous. He might need a little bit of a guiding hand. He'll try and be the guide if, you, yourself, are a virgin, but he can't promise he'll be the greatest.

Like with all things, however, he learns. He takes note of everything you like and what makes your body jump. And before long, he's an expert when it comes to making sure your needs are being met and more.

Ranpo is more of a switch leaning sub than anything. He can fill either role, but he likes being taken care of the most. It's just in his nature.

When he's subbing, he can be a bit of brat at times, just begging to be shut up. And he does shut up real fast when you punish him. You never heard someone whine like he does. It's pretty cute.

Sometimes he just needs you to take care of him, though. It can be stressful when he has to make difficult decisions while working cases, so just release all that built up stress for him please.

Then there's the times where he's in control and takes revenge on you. He'll tease you until you cry, whether it's with his words or his tongue. As impatient as he is when you tease him, he somehow switches it up when it comes to teasing you.

Easily, he could spend hours working you up, just to rip away your chance of orgasm last second. He can read your body like the back of his hand, so it's no problem for him.

Huge on oral fixation and oral in general.

When it comes to his oral fixation, he loves to just suck on your tiddies. Small or big, he doesn't care as long as he has a nipple in his mouth. And he may or may not enjoy marking up your chest in hickeys. Somedays he's bold enough to go a bit higher and leave them on your neck. If anyone asks about them, he acts like he has no idea what they're talking about.

And then he just straight up loves oral. #1 enthusiast for both ways. Spending hours in between your thighs is a dream for Ranpo. He loves the way you taste. Says you're the sweetest thing he's ever had.

When he's receiving, he's a little embarrassed because you're sucking on his dick and he's moaning like hell. But god, does he love it. He'll never get over the feeling of your tongue pressed against his tip. It drives him crazy.

#bsd #bungo stray dogs headcanons #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd x reader #ranpo #ranpo edogawa #bsd smut #bsd imagines #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs imagines #bungo stray dogs smut #ranpo smut #ranpo x reader #ranpo edogawa x reader #ranpo imagines #bsd headcanons #rampo #bsd rampo

[poppadom0912]

Hi! You have so many good Chicago stories! I had an idea for a Will Halstead fic, if you'd be interested... OC/Reader is a nurse at Med, she and Will are a (newish?) couple. She has been sick or hurt, but isn't telling Will, to avoid worrying him - Sharon (or someone) has been on his ass, for something he didn't do of course, but he's been under a microscope, so she doesn't want to bother or distract him - until she passes out or ends up in an OR (depending on the illness/injury) and he finds out after the fact... Heavy on the angst is always good ;)

A/N: I'm a sucker for angst. Hope this is good enough. I tried researching as accurately as possible but there might be inaccuracies.

I'm posting this is celebration of not failing my exams which means no resitting! I didn't get the high grades I wanted but we move on. Enjoy!! Hope this is good enough.

Warnings: Canon-typical injuries, blood, angst w a happy ending, surgery

*****

Becoming a nurse was inevitable for you because it was the next best thing after a doctor and you didn't want to go through all those extra years of learning and debt.

You were born with a congenital heart defect as a result of your mother poorly caring for her diabetes during pregnancy. All your life, your parents had been on top of your health, always dragging you to specialists and making sure you were still taking your meds.

You moved states several years ago and now you weren't constantly reminded of the defect you were born with.

There were times though when you did get forgetful and Will never complained about your bad trait that you couldn't handle, he shrugged it off and made sure your health was one hundred percent.

Your relationship was in the honeymoon phase, six months in you were both decently comfortable. Everyone was aware of your relationship but you both agreed to keep work at work and home at home.

Recently, Will was under extra scrutiny from Sharon because of a small incident that happened in the ED when his brother rolled up bleeding from his shoulder. No one could blame him for his reaction, it was completely justified but that hospital were being asses and wouldn't let go.

Following this, your interactions at work decreased at your suggestion to make things a little easier for him. And at first, it was working but then it just got straight up frustrating.

All of a sudden, following the intense summer heatwave, everyone's workload doubled and your hours never lined up. You'd be leaving and he'd be preparing for his second double shift of the week.

And things only got worse from there. You were so busy because of the nurse shortages that your priorities began shifting, your health dwindling down the list.

But no one needed to know that.

*****

Week One

"And that's me done, you ready to break?" Will asked, setting aside the tablet on the desk. You both took your breaks together as much as you could, any time you could get together you would take.

"Yes I am." You nodded, slipping your hand into his as you began walking out of the ED. "I remember someone promising coffee from the cart outside."

Will chuckled, rolling his eyes at the reminder of the expensive coffee sitting outside that you loved. Just as he was going to reply, Maggie shouting your name stopped him.

Sighing, your heart felt heavy both figuratively and literally. With a sheepish smile, you pecked him on the cheek with a promise to catch him later on during shift.

Not being able to get a word in, Will simply watched you scurry off to help the next incoming patient, leaving him to change directions towards the cafeteria.

*****

Week two

You should've been more attentive but being short of breath after a run wasn't uncommon. It was early morning and Will's side of the bed was empty so you took what used to be a daily run alone.

As the day progressed, you started feeling tired and your fatigue progressed. It should've been the first sign to you that you needed to slow down and take care of yourself but the next shooting in Chicago just couldn't wait.

"Y/N, are you okay?" April asked, standing besides you with a new file in hand. "You look pale."

"I'm fine." You assured her, nodding as you licked your drying lips. "And before you ask, Will doesn't know and doesn't need to be interrupted, he has a patient in the ICU."

April backed away apprehensively, always trying to check up with you whenever time permitted. Maybe she was also to blame for not being more forceful with her concerns.

It wasn't her fault that she forgot you had a heart disease.

*****

Week three

"I love you so much." You muttered against his forehead before stepping away to leave the dark bedroom.

Will stirred slightly at the contact, shifting under the covers and further messing up his curls you so badly wanted to delve your fingers into but you were on a time crunch.

Just as you were leaving the room, your chest clenched, pain suddenly overtaking you. Clutching onto the door frame, your grip slacked and your bag dropped causing Will to wake up.

"What's wrong?" Will asked in his half awake state, completely disheveled. He was blinking the sleep away while he turned to you and tried to see what was wrong but failed due to severe sleep deprivation.

"Are you okay? What happened?" He continued, voice hoarse like it usually was after a deep sleep

For some reason, you struggled to form words, your chest feeling as though it was being stabbed repeatedly.

And for some reason, you couldn't come up with a logical excuse and you stupidly left without a word to your lover.

*****

Week four

You couldn't ignore it anymore.

It felt like your body was starting to give up on you. You were constantly tired and out of breath and the chest pains never let up, at times, they even doubled and felt worse than the worst of your period cramps.

The biggest flashing red warning sign should've been when you fainted in the bathroom after your shower.

You came home shattered from your 24 hour shift. Just as you walked in the door, Will was leaving for his 48 hour shift. At this point, you really felt like the world was against you.

You were kinda like roommates more than romantic partners. You were barely at home together and at work, you tried to keep interactions to a minimum after the small incident that the board was elevating ridiculously.

Waking up on the bathroom rug, your body felt numb almost paralysed. It was like what movies described comas to be but your chest was still pulsating in pain.

You weren't being a really good nurse because you simply got up, drank some water and ate some food before sleeping it off.

*****

Week five

The silence was suffocating.

The two of you finally got more than two minutes together but words somehow failed you.

With droopy eyes and furrowed brows, your hands itched to grab the blue scrubs covering your chest. If it wasn't for your boyfriend sitting opposite you, you would've been hunched over the sinks in the women's room.

"What's wrong?" It was a question but with that tone, it felt more like a demand. His two words hit you hard, your eyes dragging from the table up to his big brown eyes filled with nothing but eternal love and concern. "And don't say nothing cause that's clearly bullshit."

And for some reason, you flinched.

Licking your chapped lips, you scrunched your eyes closed at the pain encasing your heart. Despite being back on your medication, the pain didn't cease.

"Y/N? Baby-"

"CODE SILVER. CODE SILVER IN THE ED."

*****

Today

For the past week, Will was hypervigilant about his work. Peter kalmik was never his biggest fan so it didn't help he was constantly making his presence known along with the more power holding board members.

You hated how he no longer fought his case and he just conformed, keeping his head buried in the sand and distanced himself from those he cared about.

It got to such a point that when Jay came in with only work intentions, Will physically forced himself to stay well away.

You were so caught up in your concern for him that you neglected your medication on the kitchen counter.

The pain today all of a sudden increased tenfold in the middle of shift. You were helping Doris turn over a treatment room, listening as she talked about her family drama that you loved to hear about when you felt the world come to an abrupt stop.

Before you knew it, breath escaped you and darkness enveloped you.

“Y/N?!” Doris shouted, going around the bed and crouching down besides your unconscious body.

As she started checking your pulse and your breathing, Connor ran in with Maggie in tow having witnessed you fall from the nurses desk.

In a flurry of rushed movements, you were placed on a bed as your friends searched for the cause of your unconscious state. Out of the blue, Maggie spoke up, reminding everyone of your heart condition.

Equipped with the new but old information, the cardiothoracic surgeon was now more than confident he was able to help you.

"Whose her emergency contact? Is it still her parents or has it been changed to Will?" Connor asked the charge nurse as they started wheeling the gurney towards the elevators. They needed to get you into surgery as soon as possible before you deteriorated.

"Good question."

"Page him anyways."

"Already on it."

*****

"I'm a horrible boyfriend."

"No you're not."

"All the signs were there and I missed them."

"We did too."

"I know Connor is one of the best but what if-"

"I'm going to stop you right there." Maggie cut him off, looking at him sternly, eerily resembling the face of a mother telling off her child. "This is no ones fault and you know that, stop punishing yourself for something no one could control."

Will opened his mouth to interject but stopped himself when Maggie held her hand up. "Yes, maybe Y/N should've taken better care of herself but as a doctor, you know that this surgery was inevitable anyways."

"It's better that she was already in the hospital and not home alone where no one would've noticed till you finished in another eight hours." Maggie continued, being more gentle as she got her point across. She was just as concerned but for everyone else's sake, she could be their pillar.

"Look at her Will." Maggie said, gently rubbing him on the back, hopefully bringing him some comfort. "She's in the best hands."

And of course Will knew that, he wouldn't say it to Connor's face but the man was a heck of a surgeon. There was no one else he would want operating on you but he was simply unnerved to no end.

He couldn't wipe off this icky feeling he had. It lurked around him like a shadow and stuck to him like a stain. He felt like a failure - he was unable to help you as both a doctor and a boyfriend - what good was he?

News spread of your collapse around the hospital and as an automatic response, the hospital board stepped metres away from Will, almost like he was sick with a deathly contagious disease.

It was so stupid that it was funny.

Will wanted to rip his hair out. How he was even standing watching your surgery was beyond him right now. He felt sick to his stomach at the sight of your chest cracked open, your heart just there for the world to see.

He never felt so useless before.

*****

Waking up was one of the most confusing scenarios you've ever been in. The last thing you remembered was being in the ED with Doris before blinking and the next thing you knew, you were waking up in recovery.

Your body felt like the heaviest gym weights were sat on you. Your mouth unbelievably dry as your eyes squinted in the dim lighting, trying to look around the room for any sign of life.

And right by your bedside, sleeping in a very awkward position was the man you considered the love of your life.

It must've been the movement of your head, you literally turning your head less than 90 degrees that woke him up because without any further prompting, Will was no longer dead to the world.

Instantly, he was alive and alert, no trace of sleep anywhere on his face as he made eye contact with you.

He felt as light as a feather to see you awake, the biggest weight being lifted off his chest from the relief that nothing went wrong despite knowing Connor made no mistake at all.

"Pulmonary valve stenosis." Was the first thing Will said, easily recognising the confusion painting your face. "Connor put in a balloon. They'll keep you for probably a week to monitor you to see if you need a valvotomy."

You hummed, letting him know that you understood everything he told you without talking. Somehow, without even looking at him, he knew and brought forth a cup with a straw in, holding it to your mouth allowing you to sip easily.

"I'm so sorry Y/N." Will said earnestly, his eyes shimmering as he intertwined your fingers with his. "I wasn't paying enough attention to you otherwise-"

"Stop." You interrupted him, voice still slightly hoarse from not using it. "Blaming yourself helps no one."

"What's done is done." You continued, squeezing his hands when he squeezed yours first. "I'm really the one to blame. If I took care of myself and did something when I first was having problems then we wouldn't be here."

Silence followed, the only sound being the constant beeping from all the machines attached to you.

"Never faint on me again, you hear me?"

"Can't promise you that babes."

"Yes you can."

"You're hilarious Will."

"No, I'm being serious Y/N."

"Don't make me laugh, where's Connor Rhodes, my favourite doctor?"

"Very funny, I think I'll buy April expensive cart coffee next time."

#one chicago x reader #one chicago imagine #onechicago #chicago med #will halstead imagine #will halstead x reader #will halstead #will halstead x you #will halstead fanfic #will halstead x y/n

[notyour-valentine]

The Boy in the Window 16 ~ Tommy Shelby X Reader (Series)

Chapter Summary: (Y/N) grappels with the aftermath of her decision and tries to get on with her daily life, which isn't made any easier by the rumours that have begun to circulate

Notes: Have we all recovered from last time? I'm not sure I have...but onward we go. I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Here, you can find my [Masterlist] and the [Series Masterlist]

Warning: Canon conforming mention of violence. (18/21+). Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Expect spoilers for Peaky Blinders Season 1-4.

Wordcount: 4371

Part 16

[Previously]

(Y/N) had never expected it to be easy. She wasn’t naive, but not even in her worst nightmares had she thought it would be this awful. 

She had thought that with enough discipline she’d get through it. After all, loss was no stranger to her. And she had always found the strength to somehow go on.

No matter what life had thrown at her, no matter what threatened to drag her down and rip her apart, she had somehow always found a way to bite down and get on with it. Mostly, she had just drowned herself in banality, focussing on nothing but the day to day. 

But the trouble was, he had become her day to day, so even if she tried to block out any thought, to focus not nothing but the menial tasks of her daily life, she could not escape it.

In fact, it only ever made it worse. 

He had become such a large part of her reality that her subconscious refused to accept the fact that he was no longer here. 

She’d drag her tired body, exhausted from the night she’d spend staring at the ceiling, downstairs after only a few hours of restless sleep and in her fatigue, she'd make breakfast only to realise later that she had taken more than just two plates out of the cupboard, more than two cups, more than two spoons. 

All these little items weighed more than a ton whenever she had to put them back unused. 

When she had been folding clothes, she had stumbled about a stray sock and found herself staring at the stupid monogram - C.S. 

It wouldn’t be missed, not by the man who had paid for them and not by the boy who had worn them.

He probably had a whole drawer of socks, besides, he had always groaned when she had reminded him to wear warm socks, preferring to run barefoot even on the coldest of days. 

Unless they wanted to go ice skating.

There was no use in sending the sock back, and so she kept it folden in her bedside drawer. 

A stupid, single sock with no use and no purpose, marked with the initials of the previous owner and stained with her own tears. 

She’d tidy up the toys and feel the ones grow heavy in her hand which he had considered his favourite. They were old toys, not comparable to the shiny fashionable ones he would have in his playroom, but he had liked them, had played with them, had given them life. 

And now they were just lying there looking as lost as she felt. 

(Y/N) still hadn’t managed to adapt her cooking. Why, she could not tell. 

She hadn’t been as foolish when it had been the other way around, when she had begun to cook for three or four, but now there were always left overs that would remain and mock her for her folly. 

(Y/N) had never realised how few two really was until she sat with Emma alone at her kitchen table. 

It had never been big, but it had never felt so empty before. 

But the worst part was the moments in which she truly forgot.

When she was out with Emma, an icy fear would grab hold of her and she’d search the street for blond hair and soft hands, for the dark peaked cap, and the perfectly fitted coat.

She’d feel the kind of terror that threatened to rip her heart out of her chest only to realise that he was not there because he was not here anymore. 

No Italians, no vendetta or dangers just…life had taken him from her. 

And her weak, foolish heart couldn’t handle it. 

Emma knew it too.

She hadn’t understood why Charlie had left, no matter how many times (Y/N) told her that he had gone home. 

She still asked for him, every day, every night. 

Once, Emma had flicked through her story book, only to stop at the page that showed the illustration of the Princess' loyal horse. 

Charlie had hated that story, had wailed so loudly her ears almost fell off when she had read that the horse had been killed. 

He had made her change the ending after that, but there was no changing the ending now and so Emma’s little fingers traced the fur of the white horse before pushing at the pages angrily as if she wanted to put as much distance between herself and the image. 

(Y/N) couldn’t blame her, though. After all, she would lie awake at night wondering if he was alright, if he was healthy, if he was eating well. 

One time there had been sudden rainfall and her only thought had been the desperate hope that the boy hadn’t been riding when the skies broke, else he could’ve gotten a terrible cold. 

Of course, there was no way she’d ever know. She had no right to know. 

So she would just spend her nights in her bed, staring at the ceiling, trying and failing to fight the memories and thoughts that made her throat close and her eyes burn while she shuddered. 

(Y/N) never remembered to heat a brick for her bed now that it was cold once more. 

And once she realised, she often no longer had the strength to get up and go down. 

Besides, she deserved the cold, and the empty bed and the pain. It was punishment for her sins. 

If only it didn’t hurt Emma so. 

The fact that her daughter was unhappy, wasn’t lost on her. 

She had grown quiet in his absence, and she was never quiet unless she had been ill. 

In the months and weeks past she had gotten used to a playmate and had somehow forgotten how to play all on her own. 

(Y/N) had deserved her own heartbreak, but Emma hadn’t. 

And that was a kind of pain that she couldn't endure.

~

Her fingers stroked over Emma’s hair.

Instead of looking at her, her fingers kept pushing the small ball so that it only rolled a few inches, before rolling it back with the others.

“After church,”, she told her, trying to sound as light hearted as possible, “we can go to the church green, how does that sound?”

Emma only shrugged. 

(Y/N) pressed a kiss to the top of her head and sighed as she got up. 

They weren’t late to church, but the eyes followed them anyways. 

It wasn’t a new sensation.

Whenever she went to Mrs Cook for new work or to Mr and Mrs Davies for her groceries, people would have watched but since it was over, she somehow felt more vulnerable under the eyes that followed her and the whispers she would leave in her wake. 

By now she did not doubt that they knew.

A child that came with the Shelbys and happened to leave with them as well?

Even if she had somehow managed to deny that, she had forgotten that Ethel Laddler’s sister lived across from the Shelbys in Watery Lane. 

(Y/N) wasn’t as naive as to think that she would have kept the sight of her and the children arriving with Tommy Shelby to herself. 

No, she felt these gazes and she knew what they meant. 

Luckily Emma was too small to notice.

During the prayer time, when all eyes were closed and all hands clasped she not only prayed for Emma, and for her own dead, but for Charlie and his father too. 

How could she not?

But perhaps she shouldn’t have done, because (Y/N) felt a decade older when she opened her eyes again, and a lifetime more wery. 

“Go,”, she told Emma after the service was done.

“Don’t you want to play with your friends?”

They were glad to see Emma, but her daughter who was usually fidgety during church in expectation of the time after only went with slow and dragged steps. 

With a sigh, (Y/N) sat down on the bench and tried desperately not to think. 

But of course, that never worked. 

Her thoughts, if given even a little leeway went to them at once. 

It had only been a few days, but to her it was a lifetime of misery.

Every minute of every day, awake or asleep, she felt the strain of their absence, the cold emptiness they left behind. 

It would get better, one day, she knew that from experience, but right now that reality felt as far and as unreachable to her as the silvery light of the moon. 

But it always did, at first. 

She had been here before. She had endured it before. 

Only this time she had no right to her grief, which somehow made it impossible to bear. 

Her eyes began to burn once more and perhaps that was why she let her attention drift away from the children for only a moment. 

It snapped back immediately when she heard shouting.

“No!”, Emma shrieked, stamping her foot angrily. 

“No, no, no!”

Robert was in front of her, arguing with as much intensity and reaching out to grab something Emma was holding, turning his back to her. 

She shoved him with all her might. 

Surprised by her ambush, Robert fell, just barely catching himself with his hands.

Still on the ground, he turned and kicked at her.

“Alright, that’s enough!”, (Y/N) called.

She had abandoned her spot on the bench and had pushed past the crowd of children.

“Emma, Robert, stop, both of you!”, she ordered, pulling them apart. 

Robert was startled by her sharp tone but Emma reached down and wretched something from his hands, rage burning in her eyes. 

She had her hand on Emma’s back as she pulled her away.

“What was that about?”, she demanded to know as soon as they were out of earshot. 

“Hm?”

“He’s stupid.”, Emma snarled, her hands clutching the little toy to her chest.

“He’s stupid and I don’t want to play with him!”

“You can’t call other people stupid, Emma.”, she said. "It's not nice."

“But he is, Mummy, he is!”, Emma insisted. “He doesn’t know any of the games and doesn’t follow the rules!”

“What games, darling?”

Emma fell silent, her lips forming a pout as she glanced at the toy in her hand.

“The games we used to play.”, she muttered. “Charlie and me.”

(Y/N) forced her eyes shut for a moment to gather the strength for a response. 

“Emma,”, she began slowly, crouching down to be of an eye-level with her.“There are more games than the ones you played with Charlie, other games that are just as fun.”

Emma stamped her feet again, close to tears.

“But I don’t want other games, Mummy, I want our games!”, she argued.

“Then teach them to Robert and the others.”, she tried once more, only to see her daughter shaking her head before she leapt forward and into her arms. 

With a sigh, she wrapped her in an embrace. 

“Why can’t I have Charlie?”, she whispered, her voice breaking. 

“Because he’s gone home, Emma.”, she told her for the millionth time. “He’s gone home and he’s not coming back.”

There were no tears, just Emma burying her face in the crook of her neck and her leaning her head against hers. 

I know, she wanted to tell her, I know, my darling. I miss him too. 

But she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. 

It took a whole while before Emma decided to leave her arms again and only then with reluctance, and only to play a skipping game with the other girls.

“We all know where she picked up that sort of behaviour.”

The sneer made her skin crawl even before she could see the glee in the eyes of the woman that had spoken.

Ethel Laddler was standing right next to her, with Mabel Sloan and Gertrude Jackson, each trying desperately to suppress their delight - and failing. 

“Do you now?”, (Y/N) asked.

She was too tired to be annoyed by them and that caused them more irritation than her anger would have done. 

“Oh yes.”, Mrs. Jackson said. “Everyone knows.”

(Y/N) chose not to speak. Instead, she just looked at them, waiting. 

Mrs Laddler clicked her tongue.

“Must’ve been a harsh disappointment to you,”, she said, “after all you tried.”

“What I tried?”, she asked, raising her eyebrow. “What exactly did I try?”

Mrs Sloan snorted and Mrs. Jackson clicked her tongue. 

“Everyone knows,”, she said, “even the Quakers sing songs of the harlot that took Tommy Shelby to bed. But it seems he doesn’t seem to pay as much as he used to.”

With that, she looked her up and down with nothing but gleeful disgust in her eyes. 

“Perhaps not worth the money this time.”, Mrs. Laddler added, unable to hide her smirk. 

“Is there a problem here?”

She turned the other way to see Father Callitch standing there. 

He was a kind man, far younger than the priests they had before and filled with ambition to make the best of his grim posting. 

Hardly any of the good ones stayed long in this part, but he tried, working hard to build something with the community and she had always liked him. 

“We were only saying goodbye to Mrs Hale, Father.”, Mrs Laddler chirped. 

“Goodbye?”, Father Callitch asked, turning to her. “Are you leaving?”

“We expect so.”, Mrs. Sloan added gleefully. “The church circle, at least.”

He raised his eyebrow, looking from one to the other slowly. 

His eyes only softened when they returned to her. 

“I heard of no such thing, Mrs. Hale.”

“She must.”, Mrs. Jackson insisted, spitting the words. “With unchristian behaviour as hers.”

(Y/N) swallowed hard, but it was the priest that answered.

“Unchristian behaviour?”, he asked, faining ignorance as he sat down on the bench beside her. “Forgive me, Mrs. Jackson, but I fail to see where in the scripture it is frowned upon to take in a child in need of aid. Or can you think of a passage?”

His words were polite, but there was a sharpness in his gaze neither (Y/N) nor the other women failed to notice. 

“That is not what we mean.”, Mrs. Laddler argued, shifting on her feet. 

She no longer sounded as confident as she had a moment before. 

“No?”, Father Callitch asked. “What then do you know, Mrs. Laddler?”

His emphasis carried enough weight to make her purse her already thin lips. 

“Hm…thought so. But thank you for reminding me, Ladies, to make the next sermon about the unchristian practise of spreading rumours and casting stones.”

(Y/N) didn’t fail to notice the faint hint of a smile on his lips as the three of them took their leave, calling their children away with them. 

“How are you, Mrs. Hale?”, he asked after a while. 

She glanced at her lap and sighed.

“Why did you do that?”, she asked sharply. “Why did you defend me?”

“Because it is what I believe to be right.”

She always hated how calm some people’s voices sounded, especially when her own mind was spinning out of control. 

“Do you?”, she asked, turning to look at him.

He had the face of a scholar, with thinking lines and sharp eyes. 

If he hadn’t been a priest, he could have been handsome.

“What if you were wrong?”, she asked. “What if all they said was true?”

She turned her eyes away because in spite of everything she could not look into the eyes of a man of the church and say what she had to.

“What I really was Tommy Shelby’s whore?”

The words had sharp edges that cut her up inside as she forced them out. 

A murderer’s whore…a gangster’s harlot…a peaky blinder’s bitch. 

She had heard them in whispers.

Callitch, however, didn’t seem to be shocked in the slightest at her choice of words. 

“Well,”, he sighed, “It is not my place, or anyone’s place to judge.”

But everyone seems to be so very good at it anyways. 

His hand found hers and gave it a squeeze. It’s warmth was surprisingly comforting.

“Besides,”, he said softly, lowering his voice so only she would hear.

“You were put in an unjust, impossible position, Mrs. Hale, one which is only to be pitied."

He gave her hand a little squeeze.

"Your strength to endure it, is to be commemorated. We all know that Mr. Shelby will not be denied.”

It took a while for (Y/N) to understand the meaning of his words, but when she did, she pulled her hand out from under him.

“You all think he’s nothing but a monster.”

It wasn’t a question, but he answered with one.

“Don’t you?”

~

She had just dumped the dried laundry on the kitchen table to fold when she heard the knock on the door. 

Not today, she thought, glancing at the clock.

It had been just as horrid as the day before, and the one before that and (Y/N) saw no reason to deal with anyone anymore. 

Besides, it was almost half past eight and Emma was already in bed. Since she didn’t expect anyone, she saw no use in even looking who it was. 

But when the key turned in the lock, all fatigue melted from her bones and she jumped back, all the terrors of the weeks past rushing back in full force.

A mad fear gripped her as she ran out into the corridor, without a plan, without a weapon, only to huff in realisation at who was there. 

“How the hell did you get in here?”, she demanded to know.

“Took Tommy’s key.”, Lizzie said with a shrug, entirely unimpressed with her reaction.

Staring in wide-eyed disbelief, (Y/N) watched Lizzie take off her coat and place it on the hanger.

“Do I get tea or do I have to do that myself too?”

In the end it was (Y/N) who had made the tea, after hastily throwing all the laundry back into the basket half unmade to make room. 

“So,”, Lizzie said, taking the ashtray from the windowsill and placing it in front of her as she lit her cigarette.

“You've looked better.”

(Y/N) didn’t even dignify her remark with a reply. 

Lizzie of course, looked glorious, in a purple silk blouse and a black skirt, with amethyst stone earrings. (Y/N) must’ve looked like a crone next to her, like an ugly duckling next to a swan.

“How’s Emma?”, Lizzie wanted to know. 

“What do you want, Lizzie?”, she asked, starring at the untouched cup of tea in front of her.

The other woman sighed as she tapped the top of her cigarette.

“Well, I’m here on business.”, she said, clearing her throat. From her purse, she pulled out a folder stamped with the Shelby logo. 

“What do you want to get to first, the house or the foundation?”, she asked as if (Y/N) ought to know what that meant. 

Her eyes were filled with expectation, while all she could offer her was confusion.

“What house?”, she asked. 

“Your house.”, Lizzie said unimpressed. “Warburton House.” (Y/N) only blinked. 

“This…is my house, Lizzie, you know that.”

She rolled her eyes impatiently and pulled forth a copy of some files. 

It was a parish filing in the village of Arrow in  Stratford-Upon-Avon district, confirming ownership of a property called Warburton House on her. 

The name, the date of birth, everything was entirely in order.

“But this isn’t right.”, she argued. “I don’t…how would I…”

Lizzie scoffed.

“Do you never pay attention to the things you sign?”, she asked sharply. 

Shame crept up (Y/N)’s cheeks. 

“I don’t understand…”, she admitted. 

“The papers Tommy asked you to sign, remember?”

How could she not? 

She had been sick to her stomach with fear once she had known, and he had told her only at the last moment. Otherwise she never would have gone through with it. 

He had wanted it and so she had signed them.

“Did you read them?”, Lizzie demanded to know.

“I…I thought they were about Charlie.”, she stammered, knotting her hands in her lap. 

She muttered something under her breath in disbelief as she brought the cigarette back to her lips.

“Course they were about Charlie.”, she insisted, “making sure he’d be alright. That you’d be alright.”

A manicured and red painted finger tapped the paper right where the name of the property stood. 

Warburton House. 

There was no street name or number. Just Warburton House. 

That wasn’t calming in the slightest. 

“Well,”, (Y/N) said after a while. “That was before. He will have changed his mind.”

She hadn’t expected him to contact her again, but at the same time she had thought he might have tried at least. She had said all that had to be said, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any things left that she wanted to say and a part of her had hoped that perhaps he’d feel the same way, even if it was impossible. 

“He hasn’t.”

“Has he told you?”, she asked, trying to stop her racing heart. 

“Fuck no.”, Lizzie said, inhaling once more. “There’s just the list.”

“List?”, (Y/N) asked. 

“Whenever he disappears he leaves a list.”, Lizzie said, leaning back in her chair. “A list of orders to be followed to the letter. This is why I’m here. The list.”

“What do you mean, disappears?”, she asked. “Where is he?”

Lizzie shrugged.

“No one fucking knows. He had the party, announced he was going on holiday and off he went.”

“Is Charlie with him?”, she demanded to know. 

Lizzie shook her head, which somehow calmed her, but not much. 

Tommy missing…

That couldn’t be good, especially at a time like this when he had a restless mind and a drained body. But at the same time, Lizzie didn’t seem all too surprised. Perhaps that was something.

“Anyway, this is on the list.”, she said, tapping the file once more.

“You’re to move out in a week. Mover’s been called, even though the house got full furniture so just tell them what you really want to take with you and get packing."

“What?”, (Y/N) gasped. “I’m not moving!”

“It’s on the list. Good luck telling them no.”

She shook her head in bottomless disbelief. 

“Lizzie, this is ridiculous. I can’t just move to some place I’ve never been to. This is my home.”

Lizzie leaned forward and took her hand.

“I know the house.”, she told her softly. “It’s got gardens with flowerbeds and a vegetable patch and a few trees. It’s a good place to live and a good place to grow up in.”

(Y/N) bit the inside of her lip and shook her head once more, but before she could argue more, Lizzie pulled out another stack of papers. 

“Now, about the foundation. Here are the files.”

She placed them in front of her, so that she could not escape the large letters that spelled out SHELBY FAMILY FOUNDATION. 

“This has nothing to do with me.”, she insisted sharply. 

“Yeah well,”, Lizzie said unimpressed, “25% increase of non-taxable donations to charities. Two new institutes for destitute children in the city. Expanded work with the local community and an annual budget for projects with the local churches for those in need in Small Heath. Ring a bell?”

That (Y/N) could not deny. 

“Those are Tommy’s plans.”, she argued. 

Lizzie’s eyes dug into her as she nodded. 

“Yep. Well, here are the plans. Go on. Look at them.”

(Y/N) opened the file as if the paper could burn her. 

The plans were rough, yes, but they made her heart beat faster. 

Those that were already formed were good. An expansion on schooling, on healthcare, on support for war widows and war orphans. And generous money yet to be allocated somewhere in the community. 

“Welcome on the board.”, Lizzie said as soon as she lifted her eyes again.

“Lizzie, no.”, she said, shaking her head.

In this, however, Lizzie didn’t seem to fight her.

“Well then, too bad for the community.”

With that she closed the file.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”, she asked. 

Lizzie leaned back and smirked slightly. 

“Tommy’s thought you’d try to be difficult so he made it simple. All this either happens with you on the board or not at all.”

(Y/N) slumped back in the chair, rubbing her temples.

All this was too much information in too little time on her already tired brain and she had to take a moment to just gather herself in this whirlwind Lizzie had brought into her kitchen.

“Are you serious?”, she asked suspiciously.

Lizzie’s look told her all she needed to know. 

“But I have no experience. I don’t know anything.”

“Either with you or not at all.”, Lizzie repeated. “It’s your choice.”

What kind of choice is that?, she thought bitterly. 

(Y/N) shook her head. 

“That's blackmail!”, she insisted. 

“Look,”, Lizzie snapped, leaning forward and pointing at her, “Life’s not about what you deserve, it’s about what you take and you’ve just been given a chance.”

Her voice was uncommonly stern, like that of a school teacher, or her mother a lifetime ago. 

(Y/N) swallowed hard. 

It seemed too good to be true, but that was because it was. 

She couldn’t accept this.

Tommy might talk big now but he truly wanted to help the people to and he would do it, with or without her presence. 

She was sure of it.

“Seriously, (Y/N)!”, Lizzie hissed after over a minute of silence. 

“Lizzie, I already told you-”

The other woman cut her off impatiently.

“At least give me your perfume or another scarf of yours, if you’re too stubborn for the rest.”

“My scarf?”, she asked with a frown. 

Lizzie nodded, forcefully putting out her cigarette.

“You left one in the bag with Charlie’s things.”, she explained. “He’s been sleeping with it every night since he got back until one of the maids washed it. And now he's been screaming the bloody house down for two days straight because it no longer smells like you.”

End

~

Part 17

Thank you for reading! I’d be very grateful for feedback of any kind!

Taglist: 

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @watercolorskyy @books-livre @chlorrox @quarterpastmidnight

Tommy Shelby Taglist:

@knowledgefulbutterfly

TBITW Taglist:

@kaitebugg03 @esistmon  @chlorrox   @theshelbyslimited  @budugu  @woofgocows  @orkwardx0 @judig92 @100percentamess @kabbuu @esposadomd  @im-nowhere-but-also-somewhere @starsnsecrets @lady-loves-a-lot @katiepie67 @acoolnight @chaotic-onigiri @ohshititsfenharel @muhahaha303 @globetrotter28 @xoprincessmel @shittingonyourgrave @pessimisticbiitch @elisa20beth @simran-preet19 @majesticcmey @akiisbae @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @vodkainthecoffee @pearlstiare  @jk-acc @cutecurly-hair @lovecleastrange @kishie8  @kirenia15 @burninggracesandbridges @nervousmumbling

#Peaky Blinders #Tommy Shelby #Thomas Shelby #Thomas Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby Imagine #Thomas Shelby Imagine #The Boy in the Window #valentineswritings

[mythical-fangirls]

Now, for my own safety because people don't know how to simply scroll past salt. I'm gonna say it now if you like Dragons The Nine Realms Scroll Away now. This is a rewrite of the series because of its wasted potential and god-fucking awful ending.

Now that the Nine Realms is over, I can talk about a rewrite my brain has been brewing up since the show began.

Now, there are two ways a rewrite can go after I witnessed the finale.

A series of episodes that showcase dragons being found again and again by humanity, and in the end humanity always deciding to leave the dragons alone once again. Because after that ending, my brain immediately thought of it happening before, of humans and dragons always meeting and bonding again and again and again, only for humanity as a whole to prove unkind that the humans who care for the dragons have to hide them once more

A general rewrite of the series. I'm bias to an OC I crafted when the series started, but to keep things simple I'm going to be using the same characters and just tweaking their stories to better fit the whole idea the series was trying to get to

The cast is first aged up to be around young collage age, and they're at the Icarus base as part of an internship as per their varying majors. This would explain Alex's skills with tech and hacking and shut because she's majoring in it.

Tom's studies would be more general sciences, with a focus on ecology. It's only a coincidental plus that he's working with his mom since she's a geologist. Tom's here to study how the opening of the fissure has affected the environment around it as whole

Jun's studies are history based, with a focus on archology. As the fissure is around a historic site that she was already interning at. Jun is also a bit of linguist due to needing to translate the old texts they find on digs. The fissure opened up more potential dig sites in the shockwaves after it first opened

Alex is a cyber security major currently at the site as an intern to help manage the base as she also has varying tech classes and certifications under her belt

D'Angelo is a biology major, with plans to eventually become a veterinarian. He's there to study the flora and fauna within the fissure and how the opening of the fissure has affected the plants outside of it

Eugene is currently on a gap "year" and has been simply working during it. But a company he's working for offered him position to basically be in charge of Icarus' food supplies and the like as, due to the uniquely somewhat confidential nature of the project, it would be easier to have someone who already knows the people within the project and thus someone trustworthy to the people within the project, to handle their supplies

The kids are mainly here to help the people they're interning under analyze information the proper project team acquires to do more menial tasks for them. Except Eugene who's main job is to basically ensure stock of mainly food supplies but also other things the team might need

Tom isn't related to Hiccup, he's actually related to the Twins for pure Comedy

Jun is still incredibly fond of myths and folktales, its the reason she's a history major because those tales are a window of how society was at the time (if that makes sense)

Eugene and Jun are still siblings, and their parents are still divorced, but Eugene was left in their mother's primary custody and Jun was left with their father. Eugene was coddled too much by their mother, which left him indecisive over his path in life

D'Angelo's desire to become a vet is because of a pet his dad got him before he would've had to leave for another military assignment. That animal was his best friend, and it died due to an illness that they didn't catch because his dad just got home after months of being gone. Out of grief he could never bond with an animal like that again. Out of a bit of guilt, he's aiming to become a veterinarian

Now I always had an image of the Nine Realms within my head before the show aired that I refuse to let go of

There's a biome of shadows and storms where dragons like the Skrill, Night Terrors, and Night Furys live and thrive within

(Yes, Night Furys. I always thought it would be amazing if Toothless wasn't truly the last of his kind but rather the last of his kind to join them in the Hidden World)

Animals from ages past live and thrive in the Hidden World alongside the dragons. Mammoths, Dodo Birds, Saber Tooth Tigers, Giant Sloths, Eurasian Aurochs, and so many more. The environment of the hidden world is borderline fantasy in how it operates and thrives despite the lack of sunlight

There are eight realms within the hidden world, as the nineth would be where the Icarus base is. Each realm is unfathomably vast with so much nature and creatures living within it. What makes the Fissure so special is that its basically Yggdrasil in that its the point where all of the realms connect

Dragoncite, as a rock, has no use to dragons. At least to dragons in the modern day. When dragons first went completely underground, many of them missed the feeling of the sun against their scales. One day, a Rumblehorn, after consuming a specific diet that only happens in the heart of the hidden world, produced the first Dragoncite. Dragoncite, when heated with dragon flame, radiates a heat similar to the heat of sunshine. Dragons heated it up for survival or addition, they heated it up for nostalgia. As a reminder of times long past. Dragons in the modern day do it because their ancestors and forefathers did it

With ^ in mind, this would also lead to many dragons being very eager to soar into the open sky. Finally feeling the true heat dragoncite was replicating. But the loud machines and once familiar now unfamiliar sky intimidate them, for there is no reason to trek beyond their home that has all they need

The initial earthquake that opened the fissure was a quarrel between a Fault Ripper and a teenage Screaming Death. The following earthquakes are the result of the Fault Ripper attempting to close the fissure

The Fault Ripper is a noble species in the hidden world, they are the dragon that create vast caves and paths between the varying realms. Where Whispering Deaths dig to eat, Fault Rippers dig to serve their environment

Jormungandr, as a dragon, is like the hidden world itself. Unfathomably large. One doesn't even realize it's a dragon unless you somehow find its head/tail. One can find oddly rounded formations in the Hidden World that go through mountains and caves. No one would ever suspect them to be the same nor even consider it to be a dragon because the environment and the dragon itself have melded into one. Jormungandr is in a sort of eternal hibernation, absorbing nutrients through its scales in the varying environments of its segments

Treasure Hunters/Poarchers/Hunters trying to head into the fissure to steal either information, creatures from within, or even just Plants constantly try to go in and is in fact an ongoing issue for the research team because these goons are disrupting the natural environment of the creatures and thus tampering with data!

The goons go missing a lot though, and none of their people on the surface know why because even the search parties they send in go missing

(Answer: dragons and other carnivores but mainly the dragons)

Now, I refuse to believe Hiccup would leave so much random shit in the Hidden World and seem to move his young children and wife to the Hidden World and leave Berk to what?? Snotlout??? Democracy??? Anyways

Either Hiccup himself (with Astrid obviously and maybe the other riders), when his kids are grown and managing the village in full, or (again another bias thing my little wrym brain wants) a child of his (maybe a 3th after Zephry and Nuffink? To match with Toothless also having three kids?) is the one who stays in the hidden world and records their findings. Living out the rest of their days in the Hidden World, hoping that their notes will guide the future. They pray to the Gods that whoever finds their notes is kind to dragons and will show them the kindness of the world

The notes are locked in a container made out of gronkle iron and death song amber

And that's all for now my brain is a pile of water mashed potatoes

#how to train your dragon #dragons nine realms #dragons the nine realms #rewrite #httyd

[kankuroplease]

I don't know but this feeling that Wakaba'. enjoy'' Tenko (I know it's not true but 💀). also she doesn't keep her son?...I'm not very proud of thinking that, So, can you tell me, What happened after Tenko and Wakaba got together and after the birth of their son I suppose that their cute little boy is also spoiled by his father.✨😆

Putting these two together because it’s all related

To others, it may seem like Wakaba was desperate and made Tenko marry her because of an unplanned pregnancy.

Their relationship was very lust driven starting off, but Tenko did care for her and made sure they had a proper conversation about what they were doing and their expectations from this relationship.

As for Wakaba, she didn’t want or expect much. Just Tenko. If he wanted a more serious relationship, she was more than willing to do that. If it was just a fling, she was going to enjoy it while it lasted.

They understand each others love languages and it was an easy to foster their relationship. She appreciated his gifts, often putting them on immediately or the very next day, and held him without hesitation when his pain was evident. He always made time for her and praised/acknowledged her efforts.

After finding out that they were expecting, he was all over her even more (if possible) and very protective of her. Having his own family was at the top of his goals in life and He also thought she made the most beautiful bride all round with his kid. Teasing her that he’d put another one in her if he could (which earned him hard cheek pinches from her and his mother).

Tenko’s love language is gifting, so he spoils Wakaba a lot with things he knows she will love and sometimes that is a little weekend get aways she never got to experience before becoming a mother (of course they bring their son and nanny too sometimes, but Nanny will veto certain trips for the kids and stay home because they’re not kid friendly enough). He doesn’t see a problem in giving her everything and making her life easier when she’s made his life easier to live by accepting as he is.

Wakaba truly loves her husband and son, but she also loves not having to do all the dirty work alone because she has a nanny/wet nurse. So yes, she hands him over to his nanny when she wants to nap or spend time with Tenko alone. Her and her nanny are very close as are their children are almost the same age and they both get along (both high maintenance girls, she just knows how to handle children better than Wakaba lmao). Them employing her means she’s no longer a struggling widow and Tenko treats her and the kid like they’re part of the family with an allowance on top of her general pay.

Their relationship isn’t always so rosy as it was a whirlwind romance and they had to learn each other’s boundaries on the go. Which has lead to them having some serious arguments. However, Tenko doesn’t like being the cause of others pain and Wakaba knows he’s too sincere for his own good sometimes (and that she can be a lot to handle too), so if he’s apologizing or trying to get her to see where he’s coming from, she should listen.

#ask #kpz naruto founder au #kpz firestorm 🔥 #OC: Tenko uchiha #tw suggestive

[drawnecromancy]

Since you've been posting such cool art of them, I thought I'd do the Revealing OC asks for Eleanor and Nathaniel!

For Eleanor:

6. Who will they take advice from, no matter what it is? Who won’t they take advice from, no matter what it is?

15. What would they consider a waste of time– other than school or work?

For Nathan/iel:

13. Name one thing their parents taught them.

3. Ask them to describe their love interest. (Or someone he's close to, if romance isn't his thing.)

--@ceph-the-ghost-writer

Ooohh thank you ! This is very kind especially considering most of their art is getting a bit old, haha :3

Questions from this ask game !

I will be placing this all before Eleanor's (first) death, so they're both about 50 and shit's super fucked. :]

Eleanor

6. Who will they take advice from, no matter what it is ? Who won't they take advice from, no matter what it is ?

She doesn't really take advice from anyone. Honestly it would be easier to advise a donkey than her, so I guess the answer to the first question is "no one because she'll tell you she can handle it, fuck off".

The second question though ? Nathan. Definitely Nathan. And yet he keeps trying.

15. What would they consider a waste of time- other than school or work ?

Socializing but that's mostly because she's bad at it and has a horrible time talking to anyone ever lol

She's 50-something, has never developed a social skill of any kind that isn't yell at people until they leave you alone, and parties are her worst nightmare. Although at least there's usually alcohol at parties.

Nathan

13. Name one thing their parents taught them.

That he could live his life how he wants and he didn't have to become a warrior at all if he didn't want to. Yes, yes, he's super good at fighting and magic and everyone encourages him to become some kind of legend - and hit parents sat with him when he cried about other people's expectations and gently told him that he didn't have to. No one would force him. He was going to grow up and he could just choose to do something else.

In less poetic stuff they also taught him how to behave as a vampire because vampire puberty is fucking weird. You're exactly like a human until you hit puberty and then you start biting people what the fuck

(I guess that's two things, lol)

3. Ask them to describe their love interest.

At ~53 : "Oh, you know. The shouty general who hates me. Not sure why I keep trying to speak to her at this point."

10 to 20 years earlier : "... I've missed her. A lot. I know things are very different nowadays, and I don't quite think she considers me a friend anymore, but just being around her is nice. I'd say she's gotten grumpier but I think I'm just not used to her being grouchy all the time anymore... Oh you want to know what she looks like ? Haha, I've already said too much."

Back when they were teenagers : "She intimidates me because she's better than me at almost everything, but she's also so cool, you know ? Have you seen her disarm Torick the other day ? It took her less than a second, he had no idea what the fuck happened ! She's so cool. It's incredibly scary to spar with her it's almost like she's actually trying to kill me."

#eleanor ridgen #nathan stormbreaker #winter's rage #ask games #thank youuuuu #you can Tell Nathan is so tired #sighs #holds them gentle

[sezez]

Okay... Is everyone seriously gonna ignore the Ferryman being the main reason why Otto went insane and Noone choosing to stay in Nowhere? Because he is the one at fault here and should receive the larger amount of hate and anger than what Otto and Noone are getting!

Otto is attach to Cici because she was the only one who was ever there for him:

I am mad at him and I really believe he was gonna be different from all the other adults in the LN universe, but nope!

I think that Otto and Cici lived in a unfriendly household or environment. Which lead to Cici being the one who cared for Otto. and if that is the case, then we can all guess on how much pressure that is for Cici.

Because she could have been a child, Otto said she disappeared when he was a little boy. We can only imagine the sacrifices she made for Otto to live, and when the Ferryman offered his hand to her, to escape, to save her. She took it without a second thought.

She couldn't handle it anymore, we don't know if Cici never liked Otto but we can only assume that.

But Otto on the other hand, loved Cici, he loves his big sister for being there for him. And imagine how heartbroken he must have been when she left him, no explanation, no trace of her, no nothing. He was all alone now.

And I imagine that Otto's old professor was his therapist when he was younger, and once he was well, he wanted to become a therapist. He wanted to help other children overcome their trauma, like his therapist did to him.

It was all going well for him, he was forgetting about his trauma, Cici. But then, he met Noone.

Her syndromes, her condition, her dreams, they're just like Cici's. And at that moment, he snaps, he snapped back to his old self. The one who was obsess with finding an answer to what happened to his sister, his memories of her came back and he was desperate for answers now. And we all know what happened next.

The Ferryman is tricking children into going to Nowhere to "save" them:

I don't understand why the Ferryman is being called as "the good guy who saved Noone from Otto", even though he basically tricked Noone into thinking she'll be safe in Nowhere but that place is far, far worse than the real world.

The Ferryman is targeting children who's life is damage, they are more easy to manipulate, easy to bribe them into joining Nowhere. And I wouldn't be surprise that the Ferryman KNEW Otto was gonna become a therapist or knew that if Otto met a child who is going through the same thing as Cici and snaps, the child will be easier to lure into Nowhere.

What if the Ferryman never took Cici? Or what if Noone and Otto never met?:

And now, I like to imagine a What-If scenario.

If the Ferryman never took Cici away, then maybe Otto wouldn't have been a craze man and he could have been a nicer, kinder and normal man. By the time he met Noone, he does help her, making sure her health is well and when he found out about her tumor, he will get that out of her head (literally, pun not intended). And TSON would have gotten the happy ending.

If Noone never met Otto or if Noone was assign to a different therapist (one who has zero idea about Nowhere or has no relation of it) then it everything would have been fine, to say the least. I'm not too sure that the therapist may or may not go insane the more they heard Noone's nightmare or they would even be a good person in the first place. But let's go with a helpful therapist instead, and then we got ourselves a happy ending.

#little nightmares #the sounds of nightmares #the sounds of nightmares theory #tson noone #tson otto #ln the ferryman #i blame the ferryman for all of this

[archangeldyke-all]

feel free to ignore this if it makes you upset or uncomfortable!! I was watching this video by Caelan Conrad about how grooming is portrayed with lgbtq people and it really just broke me.

I’m a 18 year old lesbian from the south. I’ve come out to my immediate family (most are Christian) but most of them dismissed it as me being to young to know. I’m so fucking scared that if I even end up dating, that they’ll being to see me as a groomer or something. I have a little sister and it hurts so much when I distance myself from her but I just can’t handle the possibility of someone thinking that I would ever hurt her like that.

i know that a lot of lgbtq people find joy in life but it feels so unattainable with everything right now. Do you ever get over this daunting fear? Do you have it?

hi baby. i wish i could give you the biggest fucking hug in the world rn. i've never seen this video, but i do know a LOT about this fear and being dismissed. this is going to be a long post, lol

i came out at the age of 13 to my mom. it was a complete accident, i didn't mean to come out, but her intuition figured it out. she was certain i was too young to know, and i had my first ever panic attack right in the middle of the lunch rush at a local cafe! it was horrible. at school, i was the first queer kid out, and as a result i faced a lot of horrible, shitty, disgusting, perverted questions and comments and teases. i was raised incredibly catholic (like, church 2/3 times a week) but through my adolescence i lost my faith and... no one was sad to see me go.

all of this is to say: i'm very familiar with this feeling. i doubt you'll ever meet a lesbian that hasn't felt this way. we're made to feel so predatory and ashamed for feelings and attractions that are completely natural and normal. (there's plenty of sociological reasons for why queer people in general are always portrayed as predators, and there's even more reasons that lesbians are specifically targeted by the 'grooming'/'predator' comments so often that i'd be happy to talk about some other time.) it's depressing and discouraging, but i promise you every single one of us feels this way. you are not alone.

i also promise that it gets easier. it's so fucking corny and lame, but it's also true.

give it time. your family will become a smaller and smaller fraction of your world. this isn't to say they will matter any less, just that your world will expand beyond them. you'll find passion in your work or art or hobbies and gain more freedom as you get older. you will make queer friends, you will find queer spaces. they won't be where you expect, and it likely won't be glamorous, especially in the south, (hell, coming from a small town midswesterner here: some of my best memories come from loitering in the wal-mart parking lot and breaking into the public parks after closing) but you will find them. you'll also make straight friends who love you, and they'll prove to you that the world is changing for the better! you'll work with queer people, you'll love queer people, you'll beef with queer people, and each time you meet another person like you, you'll feel your world grow a little bigger.

most of your family will come around in time. if they don't-- don't worry about it. you can't control what they choose to believe about you, you can only control you. don't push away your sister-- you'll regret it when you get older. instead, show her how much you love her every single day, treat her with compassion and respect, and she'll treat you the same way, regardless of the shit she hears from your family.

also: anyone who accuses you of doing something horrible is just projecting. you are not the problem-- they are.

and finally: despite the fact that i've been out of the closet since i was a kid, and the fact that 'dyke' was my nickname in highschool-- i was scared to say the word 'lesbian' until i was 19 years old. i was consumed with the fear, discomfort, and disgust you're feeling right now. but as i grew up and my world got bigger, i realized that there wasn't anything wrong with me, there was just a whole lot of shit wrong with the world. and it took time to unlearn all the shit swirling in my head, but day after day, i got more confident with myself. what helped the most, though, was reading about, and meeting and interacting with other lesbians (old or young, annoying or mean or nice, butch or femme-- any lesbian) whenever i could. the more i learned about lesbians and lesbian history, the more compassion and respect i had for them-- and then for myself for being one of them.

and now look at me: i'm running a lesbian smut blog!!

joy is on the horizon for you, baby. it'll start small, but it'll grow and grow and grow. i really hope this helped you believe it <3 i love you so much, i'm sending you a million kisses, i'd you'd like them. xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

[bookwyrminspiration]

Hello! What do you think would be the fallout if Sophie went as far as to kill another person, either in self defense or with murderous intent? (I.e. a neverseen member.)

How do you think this would go onto affect dear Sophie, particularly in the camp of guilt and all that. Do you think she would crumble or would is serve as a start to a much darker path, one of corruption and loosening morals?

I think Sophie's storehouse fire gives us a solid guide to anticipate how she'd handle killing someone; we see her make a split second decision, act, justify her actions and resolve, then realize her friends disagree and start panicking a little while reminding herself why she did what she did, and then ultimately just trying to move on because she doesn't have time to dwell. What's done is done.

My guess is that's about what would happen if she killed, say, Gisela. On the battlefield she's like "there's only one way to truly end this" and then she one track mind stabs her throat out before she has time to panic. And Sandor's trained her well so she doesn't flinch from the spray of blood. And then her friends don't ever look at her quite the same, and they're quiet when the battle is over and they all go home. Because they understand her reasoning, but she still just took someone's life.

But this time, I don't think her friends would really try to argue with her about it, and they'd try to be really gentle in their conversations. Because they are risking her sanity if they make her feel guilty. And Sophie can't be fixed if she breaks. No one can be fixed if Sophie breaks. So they'd let her justify it to herself and convince herself it was the right thing to do.

That would only last so long, I think, before her doubts and horror catch up with her. Because even though she may have been entirely justified, killing someone fucks you up; she's only 15. And she never chose this. Her friends chose to fight (Marella/Wylie less so), but Sophie was created in the middle of all this. She can't leave it behind like they can. And she'd also be aware her sanity is on the line and that there's no one to fix her, so she'd keep trying to push it out of her mind an reaffirm her actions, but this isn't the kind of thing you can repress forever; it will come back.

I think out of the kotlcrew, she's most equipped to kill given her upbringing, her increased exposure to violence and human horrors. I don't think she'd become corrupted, but perhaps would turn in on herself? Because no one treats her quite the same, they're all always watching, she's always anxious and hollow and shaking, and so its just easier to be alone. keeping herself busy so she can't think about what she did.

I think she'd do that for a while, but it would get to be too much trying to ignore it; it comes back. she has to face it and it's sink or swim. either she faces it and comes out the other side better for it, or she's lost to it and fully crumbles. I believe she could work through it, she's resilient and best equipped, but it is a significant trauma her species is specifically not made to process

She'd feel guilty, but would reflect and conclude there was literally no other way to stop everything, and I think that feeling of lack of choice would really help. Forced by circumstance and lessen how much it feels like it was her choice. Like yeah, she did have another choice technically, but realistically? Someone had to. And she'd be really glad it was her and not one of her friends dealing with it, which would make her feel a little better.

Overall, i think she could do it. I think she could kill someone (in this I'm imagining Gisela) and work through it to be okay in the end--but it would be hell in the process and irreversibly change her and all her friendships. And would take a lot of time, which she may or may not have.

#kotlc #sophie foster #quil's queries #nonsie #shannon seems to be hinting that sophie will kill gisela #so. I suppose we'll see if I'm right or not #sometimes I understand the characters! sometimes shannon pulls a 180 and i'm like wtf was that #but I think murderous intent sophie would have to be a very specific set of circumstances and would be a different series #i can imagine a way it would happen. but it would so radically alter the story it wouldn't be what it is now #would still be a good story! just not the same one