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spaceprincessem · 1 year

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next year all our troubles will be out of sight | 1.2k dickkory & titan fam fic

read here or on ao3 | for the DC Titans Naughty or Nice 2022

Day 1: snowed in

Dick places the last dish onto the drying rack, nudging the lukewarm water off before he turns looking into the now cleaned kitchen. He can hear the echo of laughter from the living room, the lingering smell of popcorn and hot chocolate wafting in from the hallway. It didn’t take too long, considering he had Connor and Rachel to help out with the majority of the cleaning after dinner.

(Their team had lost the snowball fight that commenced this morning when they realized their plans to go skiing and snowboarding were not happening as a good couple of feet of fresh snow kept them trapped in their cabin. “Cabin? This is a mansion.”)

Dick waved Connor and Rachel off about a half hour into the dishes, their big pleading eyes something he quickly caved into when they heard Tim and Gar queuing up a holiday movie for the evening. Dick didn’t mind though. He took enjoyment from the soft Christmas music playing over the radio, the methodical movements of washing dirty dishes, the high stack a gentle reminder that their family is all here. That they survived and now they get to just be.

After the fight with Brother Blood and Mother Mayhem Dick wanted to give them someplace safe. Someplace they could rest and recover and just enjoy their time together as Christmas rapidly approached. He quickly found a cabin in the mountains of northern California and promptly booked the place on their way out of Metropolis. They stopped along the way, him and Kory picking up gifs for the kids, the kids sneaking gifs for each other, and all the things they would need to make their two week stay feel as festive and relaxing as possible.

The cabin (“Dick this is definitely a mansion”) was expansive and private, beautiful dark logs with white bricks, large windows to let the natural light in, and a wrap-around porch on both the main and upper levels. There were at least ten bedrooms and all six bathrooms boasted soaking tubs and saunas for ultimate relaxation. There was a living room perfect for movie nights, a game room, and at least two hot tubs. There was already a fresh dusting of snow and the cabin had been beautifully decorated for the holiday. Greenery was wrapped around every inch of the cabin, twinkling lights and ornaments of all shapes and colors adorning the space. The only thing Dick requested was to let them cut down their own tree for decoration.

After settling into the cabin they explored the small town down in the valley, loading up on a variety of Christmas ornaments from the shop before picking up coffee and pastries next door. Gar picked out all the animal ornaments and Rachel claimed every single snowflake she could see. Tim‘s bag was filled with a variety of Santas and Conner chose the star to go on top. Kory found an ornament making kit and spent the first evening decorating beautiful red and gold balls with their names on it. Rachel and Tim made popcorn garland while Gar and Dick untangled lights and Connor passed around eggnog and spiked cider.

Dick peeks into the living room, warmth flooding his chest at how content and settled everyone looked sprawled on the couches and tucked on throw blankets as some cheesy movie plays on the television. For a moment he feels his breath hitch in his throat, the pang of guilt and fear taking hold. He almost lost this. Almost lost the family he and Kory have worked so hard to build and keep together. He knows what it means to be a hero. The risk that it poses, but it never keeps away the underlying terror that comes with watching the people who mean the most to you put their lives on the line to save the world. It feels nearly endless. Like they move from one end of the world scenario to the other. Dick knows peace won’t last forever, but he hopes the universe just gives them this once chance to breathe. He lingers for a moment longer, letting the itch beneath his skin fade into a quiet buzz before he’s moving, almost like falling into gravity as he seeks out Kory.

He easily finds her on the balcony of their shared room, leaning over the railing with a glass of champagne in her hand. She’s wrapped in one of his sweaters, a little oversized on her small frame, but she looks absolutely gorgeous in the moonlit, beneath the twinkle of lights wrapped around the banister. He quietly slips outside, the cold biting, but he doesn’t care as he pads over, wrapping his arms around her waist. She is blistering hot, a sun contained, and Dick presses in close to steal her warmth.

“So how long did you last until you let Rachel and Connor go?” Kory asks, amused as she takes a sip from her glass.

There’s another one waiting just for him on the small patio table next to where the bottle is sitting in an ice bucket.

“Mmm,” Dick hums into her neck, “twenty minutes?”

Kory laughs, her fiery hair tickling his nose as she turns to catch his gaze. “I am so shocked to hear that,” she says, not shocked at all.

“What can I say?” Dick shrugs his shoulders, “They drive a hard bargain.”

“Somehow,” Kory muses, “I don’t believe that.”

Dick just grins before leaning in to kiss her. She tastes like champagne and cinnamon. Like the first snowfall and waking up early on Christmas morning. Dick licks hot into her mouth, pulling her impossibly close. She manages to set her glass down, her hands soft and warm against the sting of the wind as it nips at his cheeks. And Dick could do this forever. He could hold Kory in his arms. Kiss her slow and sweet. Hot and needy. Hungered and full of irrevocable love. Anything and everything she could ever want or need.

He tries not to think about how he punished himself, just holding her out of reach. How he was punishing her too for straddling the line that kept them from taking the very thing they’ve wanted for years now. His feelings for Kory have always simmered just below the surface. Through Trigon and Deathstroke and Barbara and Gotham. He’s never felt deserving, never felt like he could be everything she needed, but god did he try. Even if they couldn’t be anymore than co-leaders of the team. He never wanted to let her down. And through the hurt and the fear and pain they still, somehow, found their way to each other. Dick never plants on letting her go ever again.

“You know,” Kory raises a mischievous eyebrow, “since the kids are working through a holiday movie marathon we have the entire hot tub to ourselves.”

Her grin is wolf-like and Dick feels his mouth go incredibly dry. She carefully extracts herself from his arms, moving towards the hot tub, removing one article of clothing as she goes. Dick marvels at the way the starlight makes her glow and he knows that there’s no one in the universe more beautiful than Koriand’r.

“Dick,” she chides with a laugh, pulling her lip between her teeth, “you just going to stand there all night?”

Dick just smiles sheepishly before quickly shrugging out his clothes. As soon as he’s in the water he pulls her close, slotting their mouths together. He only breaks their kiss for a moment as the first few quiet flutters of snowflakes fall on their cheeks. They look up into the night sky, dotted with stars and snow, and Dick kisses Kory like it’s the beginning of forever.

tagging some of the besties @escapism-through-imagination @jonskory @ambelle @ambeauty

#DC Titans Naughty or Nice 2022 #dickkory #dc titans

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miniimapp · 1 year

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Christmas Traditions - 4*TOWN

Gen ;; Fluff - Story

Warnings ;; cute boys being cute with each other

Proofread + Edited ;; no

Word Count ;; 1,417

Auth. Note ;; WELCOME TO DAY 25 OF THE 4*TOWN CHRISTMAS COUNTDOWN !! WE DID ITTT !! Let me know what enjoyed about this advent calendar series and just your general feedback lmao

This is one of many posts tonight, so please go check out the advent calendar pinned to my page for each day's post :DD

Enjoy !! <3

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‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. Unfortunately, that blissful peace and quiet would not stay long, for 5 boys where about to cause quite the stir. Or, more accurately, one would disturb the peace and drag the rest down with him..

Ordinarily, T could be found swaddled up in his blankets and curled up like a little burrito on his bed earlier than any of the other boys but on Christmas Eve? The battle for sleep is one hard fought and, more often than not, lost. When nights like these come around, where T wishes for rest more than anything but his body is a live wire of excitement, it becomes almost impossible to get him asleep. Luckily, T knows he has a partner in his late night troubles in the form of Tae, for a very similar reason. He’s glad to have another among the boys who he can talk and relate to, he knows Jesse and Robaire have much more chronic sleeping problems than he does and so it feels almost insensitive to complain to them about it. T of course knows they’d never see it like that but he does and that’s reason enough for him, so to Tae he goes every time, pillow in hand and stories in mind.

Gathering a blanket in his arms, T shuffles his way down the hall and over to Tae’s door, quietly knocking his knuckle against it twice. He rocks back and forth on his heels as he waits for a reply, whether it be a “go away”, a “come in”, the door opening or some other sign of life. Worryingly, there isn’t a reply at all. Okay, well that’s fine, maybe Tae managed to fall asleep, sometimes he does manage to override his nerves with his exhaustion. T’s fingers tap against his thigh in time with his rocking as he ponders what his next move should be. Ultimately, he decides to bring himself and his blanket into the living room and tire himself out watching TV on mute with subtitles because he’s a considerate roommate, don’t you know?

With a growing smile on his face, T makes his way to the living room, blanket still firmly clutched between his fingers. Imagine his surprise when he finds Tae, a steaming mug of what T assumes to be hot chocolate with a mountain of whipped cream and marshmallows on top warming his hands, sitting on their middle sofa. All of the seats surrounding him are empty but each has a steaming mug in front of it too and all the toppings you could want are neatly arranged on the coffee table in the middle of the seating area.

Tae quickly whips around to face T, scaring the life out of him in the process. T practically jumps out of his skin at the sudden movement and back up into a wall which makes him shriek at the sudden touch; the whole affair has Tae creasing, he’s doubled over on the sofa and probably crying with the force of his laughter. If T weren’t the victim of this whole endeavour he’d probably find it quite funny himself but since he is it’s all rather rude.

Shaking off the last few peals of laughter, Tae beckons T over to the sofa he’s sitting on. “You’re so easily spooked, it’s adorable.” Tae says, shakily as he fights back another bout of laughter, “Come on, sit down and drink up or your hot chocolate’ll become cold chocolate”

T deadpans as he picks up the warm mug and holds it to his lips, taking a small sip of God’s gift to the world. After another couple of small tastes, T shifts the mug onto his lap, hands still wrapped around the toasty surface. “What’s all this about then?”

At his bluntness, Tae giggles and pats his shoulder, “You’re so impatient.” Tae, sighs and waits a couple seconds for dramatic effect, “Don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough.”

T involuntarily shivers, getting flashbacks of every time Tae has said that with his little gremlin smile only minutes before all hell breaks loose, “Is this a threat? Did I prank you recently and you’re getting revenge on me now? On Christmas Eve? That’s just cruel, Tae, I thought you were better than this…”

Tae stares at him in utter disbelief, “First of all, never think that you’d ever get away from my revenge by trying to guilt trip me, you’d be making things way worse for yourself. Second, how could you just accuse me of such evilness, I love a good ol’ bit of chaos, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not evil!”

Nodiing frantically, T hums and agrees, “Of course, silly me, what was I thinking.. Very sorry, please don’t hurt me!”

In response Tae simply huffs dramatically, grumbling under his breath, “Some people, honestly…”

Interrupting Tae’s grumbling, the kitchen door is pushed open by Robaire who holds it in place as Jesse and Z pass through with plates of cookies and sweets to share. T stares at them in confusion as Tae jumps off of the sofa to steal cookies off of the plates with Jesse isn’t looking help them out with carrying the goods. “I’m sorry but what the fuck is happening right now” T finds himself sputtering, his eyes bouncing from member to member.

The boys stare at each other for a couple of seconds that feel like they stretch on forever before Tae finally steps forward, a nervous smile on his face. “So, you know how sometimes we get so pent up that it’s basically impossible to fall asleep, right?” At T’s confirming and incredulous nod Tae continues speaking, “Well, I figured since I knew tonight would be hard for me you’d struggle with it too so I asked the guys if they’d, um, mind hanging out with us and they agreed.” Tae quickly turned on the other boys, “And there’s no backing out so I hope you brought your blankets!”

Tae turned back to T, completely tense with nerves but with a mildly excited and hopeful look on his face, “So, uh, yeah. Hope you don’t mind that I didn’t ask you but I wanted this to be like a Christmas surprise for you, you know?” T felt his eyes well up and he quickly turned his face away from the others on reflex. He took a couple deep breaths before looking back at the other boys, his face splitting into what felt like the biggest smile he’d ever smiled, “Thanks, man, I appreciate it a lot.”

At T’s response, Tae’s whole being practically crumbled in relief, “No problem, glad to help a fellow chaos sleeper.

As the two boys’ conversation petered out, the others took their places within the seating arrangement. Jesse had just picked up his mug of hot chocolate when Tae let out the most dramatic gasp any of them had ever heard,

“Jesseeeeee?” Tae Young dragged out the older man’s name, pitch rising the longer he held it, “Would you pretty please play us a song?”

Jesse sighed, “You’re not gonna take no for an answer are you?”

Tae giggled as he shook his head, “Nope!”

With an exaggerated groan, Jesse put his hot chocolate back down and made his way over to his room where his prized guitar lived. As he walked back over to the others, Jesse tuned the strings of his guitar, a grn had taken over his face by the time he sat back down. “Our leading lady is ready, any requests for a sing-along?”

The boys all pondered over what Christmas song to request, because obviously it has to be a Christmas song before Z spoke up, voice soft and calming within all the late-night excitement, “How about Last Christmas?”

Robaire hummed his agreement, “That’s a tune and a half, I vote Last Christmas, too.”

“Any objections?” Jesse asked, ever the fair one. When met with no objection, Jesse started playing Last Christmas.

Curled up on the sofa, singing along to Christmas songs with his best friends surrounding him, is how T decides he wants to spend every Christmas. Curled up on the sofa is also how T finds himself in the morning, waking up to a flurry of chaos about Christmas breakfast, lunch and dinner, as well as presents and all those fun things. This is 4*TOWN’s Christmas and he hopes it becomes a tradition.

#4town christmas countdown #4town #4town jesse #4*town #4town aaron t #4town robaire #4town aaron z #4town tae young

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savingthrcw · 2 months

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what if the point of her character is that she doesn't have a super specific past or personality because she's The Liar which can make her fit in pretty much any fandom - birth name is Elizabeth but the name she feels most real to her is Stella, because it was given to her by her baby sister. Goes by whatever name feels more appropriate around your muse.

And like, when she's herself she's chill and uncaring at the same time, would definitely spend her days having cocktails by a pool after a night of dancing, either living the Life or eating McDonald to cure her hungover (or the historical version of trash food), can't stop conning even if she's rich because she still can't resist a good crime, probably has a mountain of diamonds somewhere. Especially can't stop when she can punish someone who is being cruel.

But when she's LYING, she can be anything and anyone. Her gift, which she excels at, has always been to lie/con/act, BUT she decided to use it for good after she found out how nice it felt to help people (Leverage style) or avenge them or whatever else she can offer, and she's the kind of conwoman who gets Christmas cards from her former marks because either they never found out she tricked them or were still charmed after discovering the fact (again, Leverage style, if you've seen it think of Sophie). She WILL even give away her beloved money if it means saving people, but she'll do it while complaining a lot. She will destroy those who scam sick people too. She's got no fighting skills but has connections that can make her dangerous.

If you want to interact maybe she's "working" or maybe she's at the point of retiring, or she's being hired to do her job by the other person, or, more easily, your muse or a person close to your muse is the NICE type, and she feels compelled to help when they are in trouble, especially if it means freeloading for a while. She could be in the police's radar in certain fandoms and tasked to help (technically there is no charge against her whether because her fake identities are the wanted criminals or because like I said her marks just can't hold it against her)

shippy wise: she's only good at flirting when she's acting a role (she gets shy if flirted with otherwise, she's not that smooth). I historical/fantasy fandoms she's a widow, who impulse-married a boy she was in love with as soon as she was of age, already thinking of retiring by then and staying out of the game while married (because yes, she was already into this as a kid, her whole family is a mess of criminals) but he died a couple of years later and she was done with romantic commitment for the time being, at least in her real personal life. In modern verses she didn't marry the guy, life just got harder so they simply split up and she went back to what she was good at. Also, she DOESN'T sleep with her marks to con them, she only sleeps with men she actually likes. She claims it's because it'd make the game too easy and she likes a challenge. If a guy is too kind and gullible as opposed to a gullible bastard, she CANNOT con him, she doesn't have the heart for that.

and if anyone is interested let me know!

specific of fandoms where she can't just be human:

baldur's gate 3: a bard with very high charisma and deception obviously, and maybe spells to charm people.

dragon age: rogue and spy, bit like Leliana. Still has spells to charm enemies.

grishaverse: a tailor who specialized in changing her own face first but besides that she's the same person from the bio

marvel/DC: can be a completely normal person dragged in for her ability to lie or, if it works better for our plot, an alien with the same skills but also the ability to make people believe ONE lie at a time until she drops it (the rest is up to her regular acting)

ouat: part of Robin Hood's gang at first but moved because she wants to make more money, would be a tax collector when cursed

merlin: a sorceress that has obviously a lot of extra charming powers but much like in the mcu cannot and will not abuse of that power

icons not mine! credit to hollowedartist and buffyism

#about stella #about stella;#muse: stella #show: fandomless

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coralsgrimes · 11 months

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I find it amusing that no one has called BB on obviously trying and failing to rewrite the last few years in interviews recently. He knows everything that’s been said since the Jules mess started and now he’s quietly trying to make excuses. Everyone assumed JH and her besties talked him into the album, but all of a sudden he’s open about it being his mother pushing him to do it— which I figured, anytime he gets pensive and serious it’s about his parents. Talking about watching a “vibrant friend” go through a low period after a breakup. The best one was him talking about a family vacation, and casually dropping that he “hadn’t been on a mountain or ski trip in at least a decade.”

August and Christmas blew up in his face, and he needs to look like nothing was ever going on, so this Peyton girl pops back up practically out of of nowhere. Why doesn’t he just get a PR manager and save himself the trouble

NO ONE POINTS OUT HIS BULLSHITE??? HAVE YE BEEN DOWN ME BLOG?

So first, all his career all he says are excuses and pre-rehearsed stories. It's not new but it became very fucking obvious lately is all

Next, who is the everyone who 'assumes' that fairy queen and her crowd (also kind of Benny's crowd xd) talked him into the music? Like this is first time imma hearing this? Thought the story is that his overblown ego, fangirls, unemployment blues and finally the yes people he surrounds himself with were the factors? and obvi the blessing from momma too lol not like them pushing him. He was pushing, everyone was looking at the trainwreck....

Thiiiiiiiird, ye like he was kinda off hand dropping what the inspiration was for the EP, then everyone sniffed sum shite so he started to change the story in real time. Like we all know, everyone and their neighbor dog aunt knows lol cuz we witnessed in live like?

Can't remember anything about him saying he wasn't on a lil trip but ima not interested in listening to him sooooooo also montana never happened like ye seen pictures? yer problem cuz Benny said it never happened ye gotta live laugh love with that x.x

And miss P is around FOR YEARS, she just got a pass outta basement lately and honestly still can't figure out why?

And he not getting PR team cuz he is a renaissance man with a useless degree and also an empath so he can manage on his own lol also why does he needs them for? he has no job? no one cares about him in the big world? theres only his established fans, half of which will protect him with their lives and the other part that would shit on him but forget about his misstepies in two to four weeks if he pops them two top buttons or gets cutesy with Jessie lol

#like he probably saves money here #cuz like...#THO #he probably has someone who sends the interviews scripts to them magazines I never heard of lol

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bobparkhurst · 1 year

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festive ficlets: dec 10

Prompts from @almost-a-class-act

Pairing: George Luz x Floyd Talbert

Prompt: Christmas baking! That's it, that's the prompt.

Notes: This pair was another rewatch discovery, and once I thought about it, I needed to see it. There's some lovely little moments with these two, I can't let it go.

“Ouch!”

“Told you it was hot.”

Tab contemplates, then ignores, the responsible voice in his head, telling him to let it slide, and instead sticks out his tongue at the back of George’s head, a manouevre made somewhat more complicated by the fact that he’s jammed his index finger into his mouth in an effort to quell the sudden rush of pain from where he’d accidentally brushed it over a baking tray in an effort to steal one of the cookies George has just retrieved from the oven. He pulls it out and inspects the wound, or at least, the potential wound, since there is no evidence yet of blistering. With his uninjured hand, he turns the tap and lets the water run over his hand. Mouth free, he sticks his tongue out at George again.

“There’s my handsome man,” George says mildly. He winks at Tab in the reflection from the small mirror hanging from the wall and goes back to focusing on the cookies. The whole house is fogged through with the smell of gingerbread and burning - they’ve been at this for most of the morning, and the first efforts were less spectacular than either he or George had hoped. Even Duke, their probably something of a bulldog maybe, who could usually be relied upon to hang around the kitchen waiting for scraps, had made himself scarce. Tab could hear him snoring from the couch he was not allowed to sleep on.

It had been George’s idea, to bring sweets to the Luz family gathering, and Tab had agreed less because of any strong feeling about the plan, and more because George had woken him at three in the morning, eyes glittering in the darkness, to tell him he had had it. If he’d had his wits about him, he thinks, he might have asked then if George had had any idea on how to bake in the first place. As it was, he’d murmured a sleepy “sure, fuck off,” and rolled over with most of the blankets. He eyes the increasingly worrying mountain of bowls and pans that are cluttering the small kitchen and wonders if this is his penance.

“I got a good feeling about these ones,” George says. He has, Tab notes, flour in his eyebrows. “How’s the finger?”

“I’ll live,” Tab says, drily. He inspects it again. It hasn’t even had the decency to turn red where he’d caught it. “Can I at least have a cookie for my trouble?”

George clucks, wiping his hands over the floral apron he has acquired from somewhere Tab hasn’t asked about. He plucks a small, misshapen piece from a plate half hidden under a dying zinnia plant, scrapes the burnt edge off with a knife he has secreted in one of the pockets of the mysterious garment and tosses it towards him.

“Here.”

Tab wrinkles his nose as he catches it. George points the knife at him.

“The good ones get wrapped up, not eaten,” he warns. “And gift wrapping is your job.”

Tab takes a bite. He can taste the charred edge still, but he’d rather get stabbed again than admit as such when George is in one of his enthusiastic moods. For all his grousing - and he has, to be sure, utterly perfected it as an art - he rather loves being swept up in whirlwind Luz sometimes. He doesn’t think there’s a single thing the man has done that hasn’t been with his whole heart, and it’s as intoxicating now as it was the first day they had met. He’s pretty sure that it’s love making him feel giddy and not smoke inhalation anyway.

“I thought my job was to stand around and look pretty,” he says, through a mouthful of cookie. “This is good.”

George seems to think about it a moment. “I’ll consider that one of your skills. Your job is wrapping gifts and not eating my Ma’s Christmas present.”

Tab shoves the rest of the cookie into his mouth and shakes the crumbs into the sink.

“No promises,” he says.

#floyd talbert #george luz #band of brothers #bob: festive ficlets #hbo war barely coherent christmas chaos

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nocrumbsonmyjewellery · 6 months

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thinking about objects for nostalgic adornment.

i was getting caught. i grew excited about the knife, the seedpod and the fossil, their connections in my mind and visually, their place in the world, then realising they had little technical relation to my idea. i was feeling stuck in my original idea that these objects must be those found at a beach, collected and pocketed on a rainy day. but, the whole point of design is that it evolves, and if i'm excited about this avenue it ought to be explored.

the above objects were gathered from around my home, where they've sat since they were given, made or came home, in pocket or hand. each one has importance to me, though it is only i who could see that. i thought i might write a little description for them, one by one.

the knife brooch - one of my mums keepsakes from her and my dads time abroad. when they were in their mid twenties, after saving for years, they sold nearly everything they had and took off traveling for as long as they could. as long as they could, turned out to be about two and a half years, living off a frugal ten pound a day with any excess going towards a box of wine at the end of the week, or trinkets, like this one.

bridesmaid necklace - my parents married after 14 years together when i was 10 months old. as freshly emigrated englishman they got married at a local beach, of course, on new years eve (dad says this is so he could always remember the date, to keep him out of trouble on anniversaries). the blooming pohutukawa trees matched the red of mums wedding dress, handmade by grandma, and my dads button up, bought from farmers, most likely. i remember nothing of the day, having been only 10 months old, but the photos live on as memories, as well as the carved shell necklace i wore as a bridesmaid, along my two older cousins. a talisman of a special day.

purple shell - this is one of the first shells i can remember being fascinated by as a child. anytime we visited bethels growing up, my pockets came home with a good few of these and ramshorn shells. (really they're the vertèbre of a type of squid, so not shells at all, but lovely all the same) they have decorated my room for many a year.

hagstone - this one's story has already been told.

citrine crystal - i believe i got this from a sandbag at crystal mountain. i was attached to it from the get go, and carried it around with me for the rest of the day. family was over from the uk, so we were out seeing the sights. after a visiting par homestead, we were pulling out from the carpark when i realized i didn't have it. dad begrudgingly allowed me to run back inside and look for it, luckily it was waiting were i left it. i've not lost it since.

fossil - i have always collected rocks, stones and shells, as you can likely tell by now, but i went through a short faze of fossil love too. this was bought from a side of the road market, sold by a couple of rock hounds making their way around australia. they were a fascinating pair, and gained a good chunk of my pocket money that day.

geode - one christmas, dad bought me a few geode rocks. together we smashed them open with a hammer, to find what sort of crystal made have been hiding within. i still love them.

baby's breath - mum bought this for me to wear in my hair at my first school ball. there ended up being a power cut part way through the evening when i and near everyone else from our school was getting ready, to everybody’s horror and amusement. believe it or not getting ready in the dark was a lot harder, and I forgot a few things, this being one of them. so i didn't end up wearing it that year, but it has sat dried in a jar as a memento either way. it would have matched the flowers in the corsage bought by ethan, who i went to ball with a year or so before we got together. he had asked, and i'd said yes, under the promise that it was only as friends. he obviously didn't pay any attention. i'm glad of that now.

ring - this is the first ring i ever made for my partner, given on our first anniversary. i had been in uni for maybe a month, which is very much reflected in its craftsmanship. alas, he loved it all the same, at the time it was one of my most advanced pieces. it marks a beginning in many senses.

a lucky life, really.

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travelingtheusa · 7 months

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GEORGIA

2023 Oct 2 (Mon) – We drove into Helen for lunch at Paul’s Margarita Deck. Parking was $20 but they took that off the bill. The margaritas were excellent. We sat at a long counter facing the river and watched a couple of guys float by on their tubes. Yesterday, the river was full of tubers. Guess the weekend fun is over.

After lunch, we walked next door to the Georgia Mountain Coaster and rode the cart down the track. The damn thing was fast! I kept hoping it wasn’t the wrong thing to eat first. But everything stayed down and it was actually fun.

At 5 p.m. we went to a travel meeting. Group 1 made heavy hors d’oeuvres. The briefing on our activities at the next campground was very confusing. I will make up a calendar that makes more sense to me. We were assigned to group 2. We will leave at 9:30 a.m. and were assigned to be the leaders of the group. There will be 3 other rigs with us.

2023 Oct 1 (Sun) – We stayed in for the morning. At 4 p.m., we rode with Brenda & Rick into town. The road was so congested yesterday with all the tourists that we decided to leave an hour early. Taking a back road, we arrived at the parking lot in 15 minutes. Lol. Now, we had 45 minutes to kill. We walked up to main street and walked among the crowd. Diane (who rode with us), ran into the hat store and bought herself a hat.

At 5 p.m. we met the group at the Festhall. Veterans got in for free. The caravan paid for the rest of the group. The hall was huge. There were long rows of tables and chairs. Those of us who went (many did not go), sat at two tables. There was a live band. The music was great. Several of us got up and danced. The best dancing took place when the band took an hour break and the juke box played line dances. Brenda has absolutely no sense of rhythm. Watching her dance made me sure I would look good (or least, not worse) than her. We didn’t care who looked good or moved well. We just all laughed and moved.

2023 Sep 30 (Sat) – The group went to Unicoi State Park and hiked to the Anna Ruby Falls. It was a moderately strenuous hike uphill but when we got to the top, there were two waterfalls next to each other. They both come down and fill the Smith Creek. There were so many people hiking the trail.

2023 Sep 29 (Fri) – The group went to breakfast this morning at the Country Cottage. It was a cafeteria type set up where we got plates and went down the row, asking for food items from the steam table. We carpooled with Bill & Patty.

We came back and Paul continued working around the RV. The front cap is trying to separate from the rest of the RV and Paul is working on keeping it attached until we can find a new RV. I am really looking forward to buying a new rig this January.

At 3 pm, we went to a first timers session that John & Kathy were having. We have never done anything special for people who are going on a caravan for the first time and wanted to see if that is something we want to do on our future caravans. I don’t think there was much that went on that we would want to make it something to do.

At 4:30 pm, we drove into Helen for dinner at the Hofbrauhaus. The town is cute; very German. Helen was a gold mining town. When the gold ran out, they became a logging town. When all the timber was gone, the town was in deep trouble. The founders got together to try and figure out how to keep the town alive. They decided to create a German town. There is absolutely no connection to Germany but they did a great job creating the environment. All the buildings are decorated in European fashion with bric a brac and white lights. It’s cute with lots of restaurants and souvenir stores. Very touristy.

After dinner, Paul and I walked the town. We bought a Christmas ornament, a hair garland for me, and a hat for Paul. We came across a restaurant that advertised Paul’s Margarita Deck.

2023 Sep 28 (Thu) – It was a mad dash from Iowa to Georgia but we have arrived safely with our small convoy of followers. Lol. We left Iowa with 2 rigs following us. The next campground, we picked up another one. Then, we picked up 2 more at the following campground. Each day was a move to a new campground over 5 days. We rolled in with 6 rigs (us included). One of the members of our party came down with COVID. They also had a problem with the hookup for their tow vehicle so they traveled separately to get it fixed and stay isolated.

We are camped at Yonah Mountain Campground in Cleveland, Georgia. So many states use other state’s city names. Some use state or country names for their cities. It can get very confusing. At any rate, this campground is hilly and campsites are uneven. It is pretty with lots of trees sprawled over a hillside. There are 21 RVs on the Autumn in the Appalachians caravan. We are just participants, enjoying the ride with everyone else. No leading. I did volunteer to be the jokester – tell a joke at the beginning of every travel meeting. Paul volunteered to be the photographer for the caravan.

We had an orientation meeting tonight. We got our jackets (red with the emblem embroidered on the chest), a lovely bag (also embroidered with the emblem of the caravan), a swinger, a pin, and our travel book. After introductions and overview, we had lasagna for dinner. There are 6 couples on the caravan who have never been on a caravan before. Rick & Brenda, Joe & Diane, and Dennis & Terry have been on caravans with us before. The Wagon Masters (John & Kathy) and Tail Gunners (Tony & Gina) were at the National Muster this year. This promises to be a fun caravan.

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redsoapbox · 2 years

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Boo Hewerdine and Jodie Marie Are Added to the Have Yourself a Merry Christmas Line-up

Folk-pop singer/songwriter Boo Hewerdine first surfaced in 1983 in the Cambridge, England-based group The Great Divide: two years later, he founded cult favorites the Bible, releasing a pair of acclaimed albums (Walking the Ghost Back Home and Eureka) and scoring a minor hit single with "Honey Be Good" before disbanding the group in 1988. From there, Hewerdine teamed with Texas performer Darden Smith for 1989's well-regarded Evidence, followed in 1992 by his true solo debut, Ignorance. After briefly re-forming the Bible, he returned in 1996 with Baptist Hospital; Thanksgiving followed three years later. Hewerdine maintained a low-key presence in the 2000s and 2010s, but he recorded steadily on his own and also in collaboration with the Great Divide, State of the Union, Brooks Williams and Chris Difford. (All Music bio, Jason Ankeny).

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The Bible

Back in the 80s, I had an ongoing compulsion with compiling the ideal indie mixtape. New songs would be added here and there, while others would inevitably be dropped into the bargain bin of my memory banks in the quest for the perfect 90 mins of indie pop. There was consistency, though. Some songs are just classics, period! So, the ever-present songs included “Almost Prayed” by The Weather Prophets, “Word Around Town”, by Westlake and “'My Favourite Dress” by The Wedding Present. Also, un-droppable was “Graceland” by The Bible, so it’s an absolute honour to feature Boo Hewerdine on the album. In addition to the All Music bio above, there are some additional points worth noting: A re-released “Graceland” reached no 51 in the UK charts in May 1989. Boo Hewerdine’s solo albums feature guest appearances by the likes of Richard Thompson, Martha Wainwright and Eddi Reader (another contributor to this album). Reader's first hit single after Fairground Attraction had called it a day, was with Boo's “Patience of Angels”. The song was nominated for the Ivor Novello in 1995.

https://boohewerdine.net/

I’ve written about Jodie Marie a number of times for Wales Arts Review and New Sound Wales, and she remains one of my favourite musicians of the present day. Before I quote my own work (poor form, I know), here is All Music’s short introduction to her work: ‘Welsh singer/songwriter Jodie Marie (born Jodie Marie Warlow) makes yearning folk-pop with a bent toward soulful ballads and bluesy anthems. A native of Narberth, Pembrokeshire, Wales, Jodie grew up listening to blues music, began performing locally at age seven, and by her teens was writing her own songs. An album of cover songs she recorded caught the ear of record execs at Transgressive Management, who quickly signed Marie -- then age 16. Soon thereafter, she began recording an album of original songs in London, working with guitarist/producer Bernard Butler (Suede). In 2012, Marie released her debut album, Mountain Echo, on Decca.

It was 2015′s Trouble in Mind that caught my ear, and I nominated it as the redsoapbox AOTY. I concluded my Wales Arts Review of the album with ‘Whilst Mountain Echo was an album of sunrises and sunsets, of moonlight and ocean mists, its campestral lyric reflecting an idyllic childhood lived along Pembrokeshire’s Landsker Borderlands, Trouble in Mind contains not a single reference to nature, or indeed, the outside world in any shape or form. It’s a claustrophobic, nocturnal record, set entirely within the haunted house of the human heart, an album of candlelight and ticking clocks, of straight-faced lies and sleepless nights. It’s worth getting acquainted with Jodie Marie and these marvellous songs, you’ll be glad to have heard them all, and one or two might just become travelling companions for life’.

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Jodie Marie “This House”

However, the best was still to come. The sublimely soulful The Answer (2021) was packed with dynamite tracks like “This House”, “Curse the Day” and You’re Gonna Miss Me (When I’m Gone). It’s a thrill, a privilege and an honour to feature Jodie on Have Yourself a Merry Indie Christmas.

https://www.jodiemarie.co.uk/about

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atlabeth · 3 years

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nightmares - mike munroe x reader

summary: It was a deal made by two almost-friends in the early hours of the morning after the worst night of their lives, when they realized that all they really had left was each other.

a/n: so this is once again. not my normal content but ive been on an until dawn kick lately and fell in love w the characters all over again. i dont know if anyone still reads or writes for this fandom but. here u go. enjoy

warning(s): lots of cursing, canon typical violence, mentions of graphic violence/death (but nothing too descriptive), mentioned depression, insomnia, and alcoholism, some heavy themes but its hurt/comfort so it ends in fluff

wc: 4.8k

You were running.

You were running, and it was freezing — fuck, it was freezing.

You knew your surroundings; how could you ever forget? Every fucking moment on the goddamn mountain was engraved into your mind for what you assumed would be the rest of your life, an assumption that had since been proven correct.

And now, against your will, you were back. Of course you were back.

A shudder ran through your whole body as that all-too-familiar screech rang out behind you, each second of it like nails on a chalkboard in the worst way. Your lungs burned like all hell but you couldn’t stop — if you stopped, you were as good as dead.

Some part of this fucked up thing was almost funny. Humans were always boasting about how they were the top of the food chain, how they were the height of evolution. There was nothing to keep an ego in check like being hunted by a supernatural creature.

Any thoughts of bullshit philosophy were dashed from your mind as you took a hard right, nearly falling over from the sharp curve of the mountain but just able to catch yourself. Your heart was thundering in your chest, the beats nearly lining up with your sprinting. You felt an intense urge to turn around, try and gauge your chances, but the thought of slowing down for even a second terrified you. It’s not like you needed to anyways — you knew exactly what was after you.

You were nearing the end of your road, both literally and figuratively. You stumbled over a tree root, your hands splayed out in front of yourself at just the right angle to keep your momentum going and, in some feat of luck, stay upright and running.

But your luck had just run out.

Your senses were proven correct as the harrowing cliff edge came into view, and a thousand things screamed in your mind at once as your demise stared you right in the eye. You barely managed to catch yourself, very much aware that the snow falling into the void could’ve just as well been you.

That fucking screech again, even closer than before, and you whipped around as you took an instinctive step back. Your hands patted around everywhere, searching for something to defend yourself, but you had nothing. No gun, knife, even the ground around you was devoid of rocks.

You had nothing. You had nothing to defend yourself from this goddamn nightmare creature, and you were going to die.

Your eyes darted around wildly in an attempt to find something, anything, to save yourself, but there was nothing. You took another step back and felt your foot slip, your breath catching as you barely managed to save yourself with a twist and a lunge away from the edge. The shock of the ground and the cold against your skin was just enough to remind yourself that you were actually alive. Another pile of snow mimicked the fate that seemed imminent as it trickled over the side of the cliff, and you screwed your eyes shut as you tried to shut your mind up.

Think, goddammit, if you wanted to get off of this fucking mountain you had to think—

The screech that pierced through the night sky was far too close for comfort, and as your head snapped back towards the woods you swore that your heart stopped beating.

It had caught up. You were out of time you were going to die but you didn’t have anything and you were going to fucking die—

A flash of white pushed off a tree and lunged towards you, teeth bared as it emitted that horrible screech. You didn’t even have time to scream, completely frozen in place as one clawed hand reached your neck, and you braced for the moment of release.

You shot up in your bed, breathing rapid and unsteady with a barely contained cry on the edge of your lips as your hand instinctively flew to your neck. You heaved an almost strangled sigh of relief to know that your head was still attached to your body (it might’ve seemed obvious, but… your head wasn’t exactly on straight at the moment, all jokes aside) and collapsed against the headboard.

You ran your hands across your face as you tried in vain to calm yourself down, ultimately having to turn on your lamp to ease your troubled mind that there was nothing going thump in the night.

It had been this same routine almost every night — horrible nightmare, wake up crying or screaming or both, and start the day at 3 am because you couldn’t fall back asleep.

It was exhausting. You were exhausted.

You knew you couldn’t go on like this, but what choice did you have? Therapy had been mandated by the police for a certain amount of time after the incident, but… it’s not like it had helped. How could it, when no one truly knew what you had gone through?

Well… that wasn’t completely accurate.

One person knew what you were going through, and you hadn’t said as much as one word to him since that night. You didn’t really… know what to say.

Hey. I know we’re not all that close, but I’m sorry your girlfriend and all your friends were killed by a Wendigo and that I made it instead. Hope you’re not going insane with grief. I’ll send you a card at Christmas!

...yeah. You had no idea what to say to him after months of no contact.

The relationship you had with Mike Munroe was a strange one, to say the least.

None of you were the same after that night on the mountain. The horrors of the mines would be forever entrenched in your head, flashes of the Wendigos appearing every time you closed your eyes. You and Mike were the only ones who made it off, and the guilt you carried everywhere was a burden you knew you couldn’t shoulder. And even after the physical scars had faded, you knew the mental ones never would.

Sometimes you wondered how you had even managed to get involved with the group in the first place — bonds that had been made in your freshman and sophomore years had somehow managed to stay strong enough throughout the rest of high school, strong enough to cement your spot in the friend group and the yearly lodge visits. You liked them all well enough, enough to go up to an isolated mountain with them for a weekend or so, but… yeah. Sometimes you did wonder what the hell you were doing with them.

But now?

Now, you would give almost anything to hear Sam’s laugh or one of her compliments, or tease Ashley and Chris about their very obvious feelings; hell, you found yourself missing Matt’s useless football facts. And even though Emily and Jessica weren’t always the nicest, you still had managed to worm your way into their hearts. Knowing that you would never get Emily’s brutal but helpful advice or get dragged to a football game by Jessica again?

If someone had told you the difference between life-long trauma and a completely normal existence was that blonde girl with the braids in your biology class, you might’ve thought a little harder before accepting that party invite.

The days after you were rescued from the mountain passed in a daze, questions and interrogations from police never sticking for too long. And it didn’t even feel like it mattered, the way none of them seemed to believe you.

They kept you separated from Mike throughout the whole process, and you were only able to catch glances of him when you were being transferred to different rooms throughout the long process. It really was like something out of a horror movie — a group of teens go up to a lodge in the woods, and only two return with a story of unspeakable horrors — and rather than try and work out what had happened, they seemed intent on pinning the deaths on you and Mike.

As if you weren’t dealing with enough after watching your friends get murdered by the monster of another friend, the people that were supposed to be helping you were instead trying to charge you with them. If it wasn’t so fucking infuriating, it would’ve been laughable.

The worst part? You could hardly blame them.

When you took a second to listen to yourself, to what you were spouting to the police, you sounded insane. If you hadn’t witnessed it all first hand, you wouldn’t have believed yourself.

You told them to go down to the mines. That the thing that killed your friends would be down there, and they could see it for themselves.

You didn’t know if that was the right choice. Hell, you might’ve been sending those cops to their deaths. But it was the only way you could think of to get them to believe you.

(You doubted they would go down there anyways. What was the word of two crazy college kids over actual logic? Not much, you imagined.)

You were in that damn interrogation room for what felt like forever until you were finally taken to a hospital to get your wounds treated. But even in the hospital bed, police were by your side asking about what happened every day of your stay. After your discharge, you were forced into custody until they got information that they deemed satisfactory.

By some miracle, you and Mike weren’t charged with anything. The news might’ve gotten hold of your story, but you didn’t know. You didn’t want to know. You didn’t ever look at the news after the tragedy, too afraid that you would see the smiling faces of your friends staring back at you, or pictures of you and Mike with news anchors trying to talk about how involved the two of you were.

If there was one thing worse than going through hell, it was other people trying to make a profit off of your spiral.

Your friends’ families offered their condolences, but not much else. You didn’t hold it against them. Your survivor’s guilt was strong enough to know exactly why they didn’t reach out further.

(You blame yourself for their deaths, after all. Why wouldn’t they?)

It was the same situation with Mike.

Maybe you had purposefully drifted apart from him, trying to build up walls of your own so that he wouldn’t be able to spring it on you first. You assumed he hated you after what had happened, and he had every right to. You might’ve helped each other through the night, but you had no other option. Now, everyone else but you was dead — people he cared about more than you — and you just couldn’t face that.

But as you stared at yourself in your bathroom mirror, you realized that you might have to.

You looked awful.

Weeks of sleepless nights were catching up to you, appearing in the form of

hollow eyes and dark circles, along with a slight discoloration of your skin. The scars from the mountain had mostly healed, but there was a particularly nasty gash on your cheek that was still showing — it wasn’t doing you any favors in the ‘looking completely normal and sane and not severely sleep deprived’ department.

You splashed some water in your face to try and wake up a bit, but the slight drowsiness that followed you everywhere seemed to be a permanent part of you now.

(It was almost funny, in a way. You were so paranoid and alert all the time, unable to fall asleep, and yet it was all you could think about in moments like these. You wondered when irony had become such a staple in your life.)

You had tried talking to therapists, your friends, your family, even searching the internet for advice on what to do after a life changing traumatic event. Nothing had worked.

The simplest solution had come to mind more than once, but you had pushed it aside with the determination to work through this on your own. But now, staring at yourself and seeing how much you had deteriorated…

You had to go talk to the only person who would understand.

You had considered turning around more than once on the drive over.

Because, really, what the hell were you doing? Showing up at his doorstep in the middle of o dark thirty because— because what?

Because you had a nightmare?

He had gone through the same thing you had, probably even worse. Losing Jessica right in front of him, having to cut off his fingers to get free, spending countless hours alone, dealing with the nightmare that was the sanatorium, and then…

Well, you had been in the mines with him and Josh when it happened. There was no doubt in your mind that the scene replayed in his head endlessly, just like it did for you.

Showing up… it was going to be a mistake. You knew it was.

For all you knew, Mike had moved on already. He was stronger than you, he always had been. Maybe your presence would send him spiraling once more, or maybe it would just earn you a verbal beating like no other. Mike had always been nice enough, but the trauma you had endured was enough to turn a saint into his own worst enemy.

You didn’t know what would happen. You didn’t know anything, and as you turned down his street you regretted more than ever not keeping in touch with him. Maybe then you wouldn’t be in this situation, scrambling after your last hope for salvation after slowly killing yourself over the past few months.

But there was no chance to turn back now, because before you knew it your knuckles were rapping against his front door.

The pause between your arrival and a response was so long that you considered leaving and pretending like this never happened, but just as you began to step back the door swung open.

You didn’t really know what you were expecting, but… he was there. The only other testament to the horrors of Blackwood Pines, and maybe the only person that could help you through this.

“...hi,” you murmured, swallowing the sudden lump in your throat as you looked the personification of your shame in the eye.

Mike blinked a few times, whether to try and wake up a little or out of surprise from his visitor you didn’t know, but it was a few seconds before he responded in kind. “...hey. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you around.”

You chuckled dryly as you nodded. “Yeah. Sorry for the sudden arrival. I’m, uh… I’m kind of surprised you even opened the door.”

He huffed out a short breath in a facsimile of a laugh. “Not getting much sleep these days.”

“That’s something we’ve got in common.” You crossed your arms across your chest and let out a loose sigh, eyes wandering around in an attempt to think of what to say next. It should’ve been so easy, but… but for some reason, it just wasn’t.

“Guess so.” That awkward silence stretched out once more, neither of you knowing how to fill it. Thankfully, Mike continued to take the plunge, but it wasn’t without a slight barb. “What are you doing here?”

“I—” you stopped just as you had begun, because you really didn’t know. You had come here for help, but could Mike really do that for you? He was the same as you — a fucked up teenager trying to deal with something so far beyond him.

“I don’t know,” you admitted as you made eye contact once more. “I… I really don’t know. I’m out of options, and… I can’t keep going like this. So I came here to talk, or— or to try and get some help. I don’t know.”

That same silence filled the air once more, the night ambiance the only thing in between the two of you. You missed when that silence used to be comfortable, but… you could only blame yourself for it.

“So— so, what?” he asked, the beginnings of a frown starting to crease his brows. “You just— we go through all that together up there, and then when we get back down you don’t say a word for months. And now— now, out of nowhere, in the middle of the night, you just show up and ask for help?”

“God,” you muttered. When he put it that way, it was true. It was ridiculous, to expect his help after the way you had just left him to deal with it all on his own for a reason borne of your own insecurity. “You’re right. This was— this was stupid. I’m sorry.”

You had already turned to go when you felt a calloused hand on your shoulder, causing you to stop in your tracks.

“No.” His voice was surprisingly soft as he sighed, stepping back with a shake of his head to make room in the doorway. “No, I—” Mike paused for a moment, as if he couldn’t find the right words to say. “I’m sorry. You can come in. Obviously, you can come in.”

Your eyes widened slightly as you tried to hide your shock at the gesture, but you weren’t about to turn it down. You nodded, and he stepped aside to make space for you to walk in. When you did, you were met with a mess not unlike the one back at your apartment, save for the beer bottles. Clothes were strewn about haphazardly on every surface, so you took a seat on a clean spot on the floor, leaning back against a chair and pulling your knees up to your chest. You actually preferred it this way — it was grounding, in a literal sense. Mike pushed aside a laundry basket and did the same, but pulled one leg up and let the other lay extended.

“Why?” he asked suddenly, breaking the silence that had been accumulating once more. “Why did you just…” he gestured around with his hands to try and get his point across but ultimately settled with a sigh. “You didn’t say anything. You didn’t try to text, or call, or write, or— or anything. Hell, I would’ve probably jumped to get a messenger pigeon from you. But it was just… radio silence.”

You picked at the dry skin on your thumbs as you tried to come up with an answer. “I… I don’t know,” you repeated. “It was stupid, and it was horrible of me to leave you alone. I mean… I don’t know why I did it. I know what I’ve been going through, and I know you’ve been going through the same. So I don’t know why I didn’t try to reach out and see how you were doing.”

He chuckled mirthlessly as his eyes swept over the empty bottles that had accumulated on the coffee table. “I’m not the best with alone.”

“I know,” you said quietly. “I thought…” you shook your head as you looked at the ceiling. “I thought that you hated me. I know that you cared about them all more, you were closer to all of them, and… and I thought you wouldn’t want anything to do with me. That I would just always be a reminder of what you lost. And… and, I don’t know. Maybe it was my way of trying to move on. Was a stupid fucking idea, though.”

That got a genuine laugh out of him as he ran a hand through his hair. “I guess I get that. I dunno why I didn’t try to talk to you either. Maybe since you didn’t say anything, I didn’t want to either. This whole thing fucked me up.” His gaze moved to you. “Fucked us both up.”

“You can say that again,” you muttered as you tapped your fingers on your knees. “I can’t look anywhere without seeing them. I mean, I see that fucking…” you grimaced. “I see Josh, and I see what that thing did to him, and I just— I’m right back to step one.”

He swallowed hard and nodded. “...yeah. That was seven layers of fucked up.”

“You can’t just keep saying everything was fucked up,” you said dryly. “It was shitty, too.”

Mike snorted, some kind of slightly masochistic humor going on between the two of you. “Nothing really gets the point across like fucked up.”

“Guess you’re right,” you finally conceded with a small smile. “This is… this is nice. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to… I don’t know, to talk to someone like this.”

“It is,” he murmured.

Another pregnant pause hung in the air, but the silence wasn’t as uncomfortable now. Trickles of what it used to be like, of your old life, were beginning to poke through.

“I never hated you,” he said suddenly. Your eyes flicked up to meet his, and it was like his brown eyes were piercing through you as he continued. “I never did. After it happened… yeah, I was mad. I was fucking pissed, but it was never at you. You were my friend too, y’know? Even though we weren’t that close, we were still… we were still something. And I’m glad you made it. I just wish you hadn’t convinced yourself that you had to go through this alone. Maybe things would’ve turned out different, these past few months. For both of us.”

You nodded, choosing to avert eye contact first because you almost couldn’t handle the sincerity. Your heart sank a bit at the sight of all the beer bottles, and you knew that he was right. Maybe things would’ve been different if the two of you had weathered it together from the start. And so you said that.

“I still can’t help but feel like I’m to blame for—” you gestured around at the mess with a sigh, “for this.”

“Look.” His voice was raspy as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair, and as he met your eyes once more you were able to see how truly exhausted he was. With dark circles that matched your own, scars that were still healing, and a certain hollowness behind his eyes… It was like looking in a mirror. And it made you realize how fucked up the two of you had really become.

Mike had always been good at holding himself together, putting up his signature egotistical-douchebag-jock act in the face of anything that threatened to tear him down, and more often than not he came out victorious. But not even class presidents were immune to the horrors that they had faced, and it was taking more of a toll on him than you had realized.

“It’s not your fault. You— you did everything you could; I know I’m still alive because of you. Besides, we were idiot teenagers — we still are — and none of them deserved to die because of it. Not Hannah, not Beth, not any of them.” Mike shook his head and sighed. “Not even Josh. Man was fucked up even before all of this, but he didn’t deserve what happened to him. He needed help, but instead he got his fucking… god. I can’t even say it. But he didn’t deserve it.”

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, the subconscious process having stopped because of the weight of his words. It was cliche, but you didn’t know how much you needed to hear those four words: it’s not your fault.

“Maybe you should be my therapist,” you joked weakly. But as you let your eyes trail back to Mike you bit your lip. He hadn’t included himself in that statement, and it wasn’t too hard to figure out why.

“Mike… it wasn’t your fault either. You’re not just saying bullshit to try and make yourself feel better, it really wasn’t your fault. What do they say? ‘Getting through your guilt is the first step to recovery’ or some shit? You deserve to be here just as much as I do.”

“But it was,” he insisted. “It’s easy for you to say that. You tried to stop it, I… I just went along with it. Fuck, I started it all. Hannah and Beth went missing because of me, Josh went out of his fuckin’ mind, and if he hadn’t brought us all back up there for his revenge plot then they wouldn’t have died. How is it not my fault? Why do I get to live when all of them died because of me?”

“Mike,” you sighed. “I… I don’t know. I don’t know why we made it back when none of them did, but it’s not your fucking fault, okay? You— yeah, that prank was fucking stupid, but— but how could you know what was going to happen?” You huffed a laugh that was only slightly unhinged. “People pull pranks all the time. Native American legend cannibal spirit things don’t try to kill people all the time. You can’t keep blaming yourself. It’s not going to help them, and it’s not going to help you.”

That silence stretched out once more as he took in your words. You didn’t know if he believed them or not, but you did. That had to be worth something, right?

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he muttered, breaking the silence once more. “And I… I don’t know. I don’t know why it took almost fucking dying from those goddamn things, a— and seeing what happened to all of them...”

“I don’t know,” he repeated, leaning back against the foot of the sofa. “All the shit that happened, all of them dying — I don’t know how long it’ll take until we’re okay again. Hell, I don’t even know if we ever will be okay again. What happened up there was fucked up in the worst way, and the fact that no one believes us makes it a hell of a lot worse.”

You chuckled darkly as you cupped one hand in the other. “You can say that again.”

His lips twitched for a moment as if he wanted to smile but ultimately thought better of it. “I know we aren’t that close anymore, but the truth is we’re the only ones on this fuckin’ planet that know what really happened up there. We’re the only ones that will ever really understand what happened to us, and… and I think we’re the only ones that can really help each other through this shit.”

He met your eyes once more, something resolute in them. “So the next time this happens, because it will, if you don’t want to be alone… you can come here. Any time, any day, no questions asked. Just knock on that door, and I will be there. No more isolation, no more trying to get through this on our own. We gotta be there for each other, because we’re all we have.”

You nodded gratefully, a feeling of warmth slowly creeping through your body with his reassurance. “Thank you, Mike. You… you have no idea what this means to me.”

“I think I have some clue,” he murmured.

As you exchanged weary smiles, you saw a faint twinkle in Mike’s eyes. He was always the kind of person to help others, even if it was for the wrong reasons, and that was one thing that stuck with him after the disaster. And in that moment, a long lost feeling washed over you — safety.

You hadn’t felt safe in… well, it seemed like forever. Adrenaline and pure instinct were responsible for getting you through those twelve hours, along with an overwhelming wave of numbness and denial. But once all of that wore off, the nightmares had begun. Your friends, the Wendigos, the mountain itself — anything and everything that your mind could use against you, it did.

It was a living hell. You could hardly ever sleep anymore, horrific images always jolting you awake after an hour or two and keeping you awake for the rest of the day. It was no wonder Mike had ended up with a drinking problem — it was probably the only way he could sleep, the only way he could bring some form of peace to his mind. By some miracle, you had avoided that fate, but… you would be lying if you said you hadn’t come close.

But somehow, for some reason, you could tell that things were going to be different. Now that you and Mike weren’t avoiding each other anymore in the name of painful memories… you felt like things were going to be okay. Or as close to okay as you could get these days.

You weren’t alone, and neither was he.

He had saved your life on the mountain more than once. Now, he was saving you again. Just in a different way.

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

ud tags: @kwyloz

#mike munroe #mike munroe x reader #mike x reader #until dawn x reader #until dawn #until dawn fic #mike until dawn #sadie writes #i always get so insecure when i post things that arent for atla #then i remember that. this is my blog and i can write what i want #lol

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visd3stele · 3 years

Text

Self care for Sirius - gn reader

- I tried a gender neutral reader for the first time, how did I do? Man, I really hope it's not offensive or bad representation. Let me know if there is anything wrong here. Spread love 💛

more of my fics

request something here

summary: when Sirius is in distress, reader helps

A/N: I really tried to.make it short. It didn't work. But I like it!

TW: light mention of bad home situation/ child abuse (seriuosly, blink and it's gone), reader on Sirius' lap, but nothing explicit or sexual

!This fic is not reviewed, might contain typos!

Spring Break. Y/n loved this time of the year. Not because the high hills of Scotland mountains lighten up with vibrant green and patches of flowers that fight through stone and rock. Not because they'd live in a castle just like they imagined when a little child: freely and burdened by no responsability. Not even because y/n's birthday, summer baby, was just around the corner. Y/n loved spring breaks for the peaceful silence that wrapped up Hogwarts into a crystal ball of fairytales come to life and magical childhood dreams. Never during the year was the castle school so empty. Kids always stayed behind even on Christmas and summer. But for some reason, the two weeks of free spring sooshed them all away.

Well, not exactly all, y/n had to admit. They had to share the long hallways, feasts that doesn't shriek in size compared to any other time of the year, Quidditch fields and a common room with no other but the marauders. Which would be fine, if not for y/n's growing crush on one of them. They knew those boys for six years already, been in so many troubles with the marauders, they can't remember how their room from home looks like, but knows the detention class like the back of their hand. Yet somehow, Cupid decided to tense his bowstring and point his golden tip arrow towards their heart.

"Oi, y/n, come're mate," James shouted from somewhere down below. Y/n was wandering aimlessly through the school, their feet bringing them to one of the open corridors, suspended in the air. And to the marauders, which they were not avoiding.

"Hurry, up, y/n! Merlin, one would say you're avoiding us, aye?" Peter's laugh made y/n roll their eyes, but sprinting towards them to dissamble his acusation.

"Of course not, Snitch brain. We're the only ones at Hogwarts, it'd be imposible to avoid you."

They hopped over the last three steps and landed in front of the boys who came to greet them. "What are you up to?" Y/n asked, though when their eyes scanned the trio, they realized something is wrong. "Where's Sirius?"

James looked down, lifting a hand to rearrange his glasses. As Sirius' best mate, more like brother to be honest, Potter would deffinitely know the most about y/n's crush. But it also means he won't talk. Peter would follow his lead, as always. Pettigrew went so far as to run past them, shouting he'll bring butter rolls for everyone.

Remus was the only one left to answer y/n's burning question. They didn't want to let the boys know how much they care about Sirius. How jealous they get because there are others closer to him than them. But y/n knew how much the marauders liked to go on adventures when there was no one to prank and even worse no one to witness it. And if Sirius Black missed the opportunity to do some mischief with his friends while one would say is impossible to get in trouble, meant whatever happened brought him down.

"Remus John Lupin, why is Sirius not here?"

"Sorry, y/n, but it's no' my story to tell. 'tis no worse than when he ran from home, but he's still no' feelin' himself."

Y/n pursed their lips. "Where is he?"

"Common room."

"Would id be okay if I go to him?"

This time it was James who answered, looking them up and down sternly as if deciding on what he should do. "Yes. Go. We'll be in the kitchen with Wormtail."

"Make sure we'll bring some rolls to you two soon." Remus said as the two boys departed.

Y/n's mind raced through every possibility they could imagine: his parents coming after him, the Ministry forcing him to go back to Grimmauld, his crazy cousin deciding to wipe out the blood traitor from more than just a tapstry. But Remus said it wasn't that bad. And they had to trust it to be the case, despite their worried, enamoured mind.

In the midst of all the chaos that was their brain, y/n glimpsed one hopeful thought. Why did the marauders left them alone with their mate? Of course, Remus implied they'd come to the Gryffindor common room soon, but James would have never dismissed a hurting Sirius. None of them would have. So why let them go to him?

Y/n shook their head, intenting to rid themself of the theories and daydreams of a fool in love before they hurt themself. Or worse, embarass themself in front of Sirius.

"Hi there, grouchy. 've heard someone sunk your ships. Well, second mate y/n y/l/n reporting to duty, sir. Ready to rebuilt the naval." They joked, but Sirius only sketched a smile that didn't reach his eyes. He was pacing when y/n opened the door, tossing one of his obsidian and silver rings from one hand to another. Y/n always wondered about that particular ring, shaped as a thick snake with its tail in its mouth. So uncharasteristic for roaring red and golden lion Sirius Orion Black. But as nor the boys, nor the girls brought it up, y/n put in on the list of things they weren't privy of in his life. A painfully long list.

"Can you sit with me on the couch or do you want to walk a path through Mcgonagalls carpet? I'm sure Minnie won't mind... too much. But still."

Sirius nodded, yet again too, well, serious for y/n's liking. As soon as he sat, y/n crossed their legs up in front of them and turned to face him. "So, wanna talk, or..."

Black straight locks, thin and dense, moved around Sirius' face when he shook it. Not in negation, y/n realized a few seconds after, but in tiredness. "My brother," the boy said so soft they could better hear the troubled ponding of his heart than his words. The wizard, unable to resist seated too much in his state, jumped up, sliping the ring back onto his finger. In its place, needing to work something with his hands, Sirius reached to trace a small two stars tatto on the right side of the base of his neck. So close to where his jugular pulsed with life and, currently, nerves.

Y/n waited patiently for their crush to continue speaking, willing themself to focus on Sirius' issue, not on his long, piano player fingers against his skin. They chastied themself when their mind begin to wonder how soft it really was, or how would those fingers, caressing up and down Sirius' neck, feel on their own.

"I left him, y/n." The raw, strangled cry took them by surprise. Y/n never understood the relation between the Black brothers: one as fierce and wild as a stray flame that could warm a group of campers or set a dangerous forest ablaze and the other as cold and calculated as the unforgiving ice, to heal burns or to swallow ships. They always thought the wizards only ties are their family, and since Sirius showed them the middle finger as adieu, y/n believed the siblings to ignore each other. Not that they'd talk much at Hogwarts before, anyway. But they were terribly wrong.

"I left him with - with those monsters! I knew nothing of Reggie the whole summer and didn't even try to reach out and now..." He trailed off, a horrified expression carved on his face.

"Sirius," y/n walked towards him. They placed an unsteady hand on his shoulder and squized once. "I'm not even sure you could've reach out. It'd've put both of you in a worse situation."

Sirius gulped and nodded, fully agreeing, though stubbornly believing there must have been something he could have done. Not a single tear fell from or dwell in his wide, stunning eyes. Yet the grey stood out due to red veins webbing on the white part and purple bruises from the lack of sleep. How long has he been like this?

Almost frentic, he turned to look at y/n, with a force that took them by surprise. "Reggie has the mark, y/n. He's fourteen and I left him to be mauled and manipulated by, by," but no word was strong or vile enough to express his feelings. And y/n understood that.

" 's okay, 's okay. 'twasn't your fault, you hear? Not yours. You're still a child, Sirius. There's nothing you could have done."

"No, no, there is. I didn't see it, but now I do. I could've..." but y/n cut them off, gently and firmly. "Great Godric! When did you sleep last?"

"If I'd've slept, I'd've missed thinking hours, y/n. I found so may ways I could have, should have, saved Reggie."

"Sirius. Stop! Listen to me, you'll go take a nap and we can talk more after."

"But..."

"No. Nap. Now!"

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

Sirius slept until lunch next day. He woke up famished, with normal looking eyes and seemingly refreshed. But he still wasn't himself. His mind still pondered obsessively over all the ways he failed his little brother and the solutions he should have found.

"D'you know what always helps me relax when I'm stressed over somethin'?" Y/n asked once the two of them got up from the table and made it back to Gryffindor tower. All alone.

Sirius humphed a reply, but gave them his whole attention.

"A self care routine. Wanna try?"

When Sirius shrugged, but made no attempt to dismiss the idea, y/n grinned - though a bit forcefully - and pushed Sirius on the couch. They returned seconds later, arms filled with brushes, pencils, little cubic bottles that read nail polish and face masks.

Y/n sat next to Sirius on the couch. "Ready?"

"To relax? No. But go on, let's try it."

"Hey, a well rested and calm mind is more helpful than panic."

And with that, they threaded their fingers through his hair, tieing it in a loose bun at the back of his head and plucked one of the masks to aplie it on Sirius' face.

"How does that feel?"

"Ticklish." He still wrinkled his face, eyebrows drawn together in concentration to inward conversations, but his voice became lighter with laughter. It may have been just his body reacting to the tickling sensation, but to y/n it was a good start.

"Alright, we keep that on for fifteen minutes. Can I paint your nails while we wait?"

"What color?"

"Your pick, obviously!" They tried to match their voice with the roll of their eyes. "I've got black, red and purple."

Sirius whistled mockingly. "Such a variety, y/n. How am I supposed to choose?"

"Shut up, Black." Y/n playfully scoffed. They weren't one for long nails and bright colors, nor for heavy make up. But it didn't mean they didn't enjoy the relaxing moments when their mind focused only on the brush sliding over their nail, or the eye pencil moving atop their lids.

Fifteen minutes later, Sirius' nails shone a dark shade of purple and he asked if he could paint y/n's too. After they took his face mask off, they gave him permission to play with the black nail polish on two of their fingers. He made a mess of their skin around the nails, but the color managed to dry, at last, and it didn't look half bad. Y/n beamed when they caught Sirius' shoulders slumping down from their tension.

While he was working on their finger, y/n allowed themself to indulge in a few moments of simping over the sixteen years wizard in front of them. His tongue stucked out as he tried - and failed - to color inside their nails' edges. Few strands of hair snaped out of their hair tie prison and cupped his face, shading his features until only his eyes glittered grey and happy. Sirius seemed to forget his worries, at least for the time being, and y/n couldn't have been more pleased with themself.

Sirius was blowing over their painted nails, wiping the color off their skin when y/n bowed their head as well, meaning to give some advice to the boy. It wasn't enough that his touch on their hands made their heart loose control, but the current proximity completely erased any coherent thought as well. So they just stood there, staring at no other than Sirius Casanova Black. The very wizard who turned all the heads when entering a room and had more hook ups than y/n bothered to remember anymore.

"What's next?" Sirius suddenly asked, raising his head a bit so that now, his and y/n's foreheads were almost touching. Y/n gulped. Breath caught in their throat and became irregular. "Uh, uhm," they gestured helplessly around the pile of stuff they brought in earlier.

To their relief, Sirius' curiosity got the best of him. He didn't seem to notice how flustered he made them, or y/n's awkward stumble over their words. He examinated with upmost attention the small mountain of things sprawled on the floor and picked one up.

"That's an eyeliner, right?" When they nodded, Sirius admited " 've always wanted to try one." He smirked up at y/n. "Help me?"

Getting a better grip of themself, they agreed, jumped on their feet and walked in front of Sirius. The problems was, if they towered over him to draw the black lines around his eyes, they'd shadow his face, making it impossible to work. So y/n tried something else. They knelt in font of Sirius. But now, they couldn't reach his face comfortably enough that their hands wouldn't shake. "D'you wanna try it yourself? I can guide you," they sighed defeated.

Sirius put on a thinking face, pretending to debate over their offer. "Know what, y/n?" He said eventually. "I have a better idea." And he scooped them up in his lap, their legs on each side of his hips.

Y/n's face resembled a cartoon's one. Eyes comically wide, face unusually red and if one looked closely, heart shaped butterflies circled their head. "Is everything okay, y/n?" Sirius teased, but when they didn't answer, he asked seriously "Is it not... sorry, should've make sure beofore..." he tried to lower them on the couch.

"No!" They shouted. Then clasped their hands over their mouth bashfully. "I mean, no, it's... this is good. I like it."

The wizard smiled, not a mischivious grin or a teasing smirk, but a genuine content smile. That made y/n laugh breathlessly. Wetting their lips, they traced the outline of Sirius' eyes with the thin tip of the eyeliner.

The moment felt more magical than any spring break they've lived so far. More like a fairytale than wandering around the castle on their own, pretending to dance at balls at midnight and fight the wretched at night. Until...

"What on Merlin's dirty socks?" Y/n and Sirius jumped apart, startled. "Is that make up, mate?"

"Y/n's cure for stress."

"What is it, Potter? Wanna be next?" They smirked, not even annoyed he ruined their monent. Now, y/n believed there might be more to come.

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multi-fandom-imagine · 3 years

Text

Video Game One-Shots and Drabbles Master List.

-Drabbles are up to 300 words and less than 1000

-One-Shots are more than 1000 words

- ✦ means it is a drabble

- ★ means it is a one-shot.

- ♥ means it has sexual content or implied smut

-💔means it is an angst fic.

-★ means it is a Headcanon.

-⚜ means it is a Mini Series.

Assassin’s Creed:

Uncanny || Jacob Frye ||-✦

Smooth Talk || Deimos!Alexios ||- ✦ + - ♥

Marry me || Jacob Frye ||- ✦ + - ♥

Patching up a wound || Edward Kenway ||

Beautiful Music || Jacob Frye ||

A Scared Kiss || Ezio Auditore ||

Fierce Moon || Jacob Frye || - ♥

Bang Bang || Jacob Frye || - ♥

tall buff characters opening pickle jars (◕‿◕✿) || Jacob Frye ||

Tall Buff characters that are actually gentle giants || Connor Kenway ||

tall buff characters that are afraid of breaking their lovers || Shay Cormac ||

The Five Senses-Hearing || Alexios ||

Uncharted:

Did you hear? I’m going to be a dad! || Samuel Drake || ✦

You can call me Daddy Drake || Nathan Drake ||- ✦

Snowball Fight || Nathan Drake ||-✦

It’s just an Epilogue || Nathan Drake ||-✦

Mr. Wonderful || Nathan Drake || *Rewrite*-✦

Mr. Wonderful || Nathan Drake ||

Raging Storm || Sam Drake ||.

Being Pregnant has it quirks || Sam Drake ||

Turkey Trouble || Sam Drake ||

What if I'm a bad dad? || Sam Drake ||

Red Dead Redemption:

Tonight We Dance|| Arthur Morgan ||- ✦

I’m Crazy About You || Arthur Morgan ||- ✦

I’m Gonna Be A Daddy? || Arthur Morgan |||- ✦

I’ll Be The Best Father Around || Arthur Morgan |||- ✦

Stage 1 — The Meeting || Arthur Morgan ||- ✦

Stage 2 — Courting || Arthur Morgan ||- ✦

Let Me Stay Here By Your Side || Arthur Morgan ||- ✦

Mistletoe kisses || Modern!Charles Smith ||- ✦

Just Some fun in the camp || Arthur Morgan ||- ✦-♥

Arthur Morgan’s 25 Day’s of Christmas {{ Full List }}- ✦

A Bambi Kiss || Arthur Morgan ||

Arthur Morgan Sex Headcanon.- ♥ -✨

Resident Evil / Day’s Gone:

To The Man Who Let Her Go || Chris Redfield ||

So Many Kisses || Carlos Oliveira ||

I’ll never stop living you || James O'Brian ||

So many kisses || Carlos Oliveira ||

First Kiss || Carlos Oliveira ||

Sleepy Hug || Carlos Oliveira ||

The Little Things || Carlos Oliveira ||

She Wouldn’t Be Gone || Leon S. Kennedy ||.

The Lift hug || Carlos Oliveira ||

A Forehead Kiss || Carlos Oliveira ||

My Life ; My Princess || Carlos Oliveira ||

I’m going to hug you now || Carlos Oliveira ||

Fuck IKEA || Leon S.Kennedy ||

You look! I’m to Nervous || Rookie!Leon ||

Get your dad jokes ready || Rookie!Leon ||

Get your dad jokes ready || Leon S. Kennedy ||

Silent Comfort || Rookie!Leon ||

A kiss…. in relief || Billy Coen ||

Jealousy || Leon S. Kennedy ||

A kiss … …to pretend.|| Leon S. Kennedy ||.

an adrenaline kiss || Rookie!Leon ||

Summer Bike Rides and Picnics || Deacon St. John ||.

Hallway Sex is the best kind of sex || Deacon St. John ||

Supermassive Games: { Little Hope / Until Dawn / Men Of Medan }

Forget-me-not’s & Foxglove’s || Mike Munroe ||-✦.

Don’t You dare throw that snow ba-” || Mike Munore ||- ✦

First Date || Mike Munroe ||- ✦

I think I might be Pregnant || Josh Washington ||- ✦

It’s Not Just Make Believe || David Milton || - ✦.

He’s One Of The Good One’s || Anthony Clark ||-✦.

Keep Bleeding Love || Abraham Alastor || Pt I-✦.

Keep Bleeding Love || Abraham Alastor || Pt II-✦.

I’m so sorry || Daniel ||-✦.

Just kiss already || Abraham Alastor ||-✦

Love In The Mountains || Josh Washington ||

Lovin In The Forest || Wendigo Josh Washington ||

You’re Safe Now || Mike Munore ||

Take it off || Josh Washington ||

I think i might be pregnant || Josh Washington ||

Devil May Cry-

Baby Hog || Dante Sparda || - ✦

Please Don’t Cry || Nero ||

Baby’s First Kicks || Nero ||

What a wonderful Christmas Surprise. || Dante Sparda ||

Silent Night || V ||

Just this once || Dante ||

I said a book…not a poem || V ||

Leave it To Dante || Dante ||

Do you think they’ll have your eyes?|| Vergil ||

Expecting || Nero ||

Miscellaneous Games: { Wolf Among Us / Detroit Become Human }

Ralph likes to kiss! || Ralph x Reader ||- ✦

“Am I too old to go trick-or-treating?”|| Connor ||- ✦

It’s getting hot in here || Connor ||-✦

Romantic Kiss || Connor ||-✦

You want me to what? || Hank Anderson ||-✦

Sweet Boy || Connor ||- ✦

December 3rd: Snow || Bigby Wolf ||- ✦

Morning Kisses || Bigby Wolf ||- ✦

Cuddles || Bigby Wolf ||- ✦

Christmas Morning || Bigby Wolf ||- ✦

First Snow || Bigby Wolf ||- ✦.

Amortentia Bigby-★.

Then you kissed me || Bigby Wolf ||

Little Red Ridin’ Hood || Bigby Wolf ||

Everyone Needs a little lovin || Bigby Wolf ||

'So... Hypothetically, if we were to have a baby, how would you react? || Bigby Wolf ||

tall buff characters that are actually gentle giants || Bigby Wolf ||

What A Handsome Wolf || Bigby Wolf ||

Miscellaneous Games 2: {OverWatch / Mortal Kombat / Far Cry 5}

Heelllloooo || Johnny Cage x Reader |||- ✦

Vampire!Gabriel Reyes - ✦

Bats || Jesse McCree ||- ✦

Laughter || Gabriel Reyes ||- ✦

First Kiss || Sub-Zero ||- ✦

Oh My God || Kenshi ||- ✦

You’re Alive || Eli Palmer || -✦

I’ve Missed you || Sharky Boshaw ||-✦

The Dragon’s Nest || Hanzo ||

Miscellaneous Games 3: {Call Of Duty / Marvel Avengers / Ghost Of Tsushima}

Bambi Kiss || Steve Rogers ||

Tall buff characters that are actually gentle giants || Daniels ||

I’m so sorry. || Steve Rogers ||

When I am dead || Taka ||-💔

but it’s all coming back to me || Jin Sakai ||

Friendship is the Best Medicine. || Jin Sakai / Ryuzo ||

Pure love. || Jin Sakai ||

It’s Just A Kiss || Jin Sakai ||

I’ll make you feel better || Jin Sakai ||

Be The One You Need || Joseph Turner ||

The Ghost & The Kitsune. || Jin Sakai ||

The Last Of Us:

Amortentia Joel-★

A kiss to bruised skin || Joel Miller ||

Baby’s First Kicks || Joel Miller ||

You’re My Light || Joel Miller ||

tall buff characters || Joel Miller ||

Final Fantasy:

A kiss on the nose || Tseng ||

You’re glowing || Cloud Strife ||

The SOLDIER and The Baker || Cloud Strife || The Date-⚜

A Kiss…Out Of Love.|| Biggs ||

Just a little confession of love || Biggs ||

The SOLDIER and The Baker || Cloud Strife ||-⚜ Part 1 || Part 2. || Part 3 || Part 4. || Part 5.

I’m Scared || Cloud Strife ||

Cheiloproclitic || Cloud Strife ||

Sleepy Kiss|| Cloud Strife ||.

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sweet-by-and-by · 2 years

Text

Image Credit | Updated 12/22/22 | Find me on AO3

Warm Ups Collection:

Wearied So, The Hanging Tree, Sin and Smoke, That Coal is Gonna Bury You🔞, Home, Gummy Worm

Arthur x Reader:

On the Blue Side of the Mountain (Masterlist)

After a narrow escape from the downfall of the Van Der Linde gang, you and Arthur have lived comfortably on your mountainside homestead for years. Away from any Pinkertons, Cornwalls, and O’Driscolls, you’re finally safe. All you can do now is try to find peace and hope that the shadows of your past don’t catch up with you.

Tobacco and Sweet Tea

In the peak of summer’s heat, you can’t help but find yourself irritable. Luckily, Arthur thinks he has a way to cheer you right up.

Give Me What I Need

NSFW 🔞. Arthur finally makes it home after a stagecoach robbery scouted by Uncle goes horrifically sideways. You have just the thing to set his sour mood right.

Morston:

If It Makes You Stay

In a fit of dumb luck, a troubled John Marston meets Arthur Morgan; lead hand and trusted son of the Van Der Linde Ranch. But the timing might just be fate. Together they work to give John another shot at a life he’s only wasted so far.

A Modern!Morston AU for the Red Dead Redemption Reverse Bang

Heart on Your Sleeve

Arthur spent 20 years working his ass off to become the top artist at Van Der Linde Ink, the high-end traditional shop founded by Dutch Van Der Linde and Hosea Matthews. Who does John think he is, showing up with his ignorant style and calling it art? A modern tattoo shop! AU

Christmas for Outlaws

When a job gone wrong lands Arthur in some small-town Sheriff's crosshairs, it looks like this Christmas Eve will be his last. Unless John has something to say about it.

My gift for rangerdanger985 as part of the 2021 Secret Winter Exchange

Full of Cheer

John finds Arthur’s festive spirit a little lacking as he struggles to move on from the past.

A gift for yeehawpurgatory for the rdrevents 2022 Secret Winter Exchange

Charthur:

Sunshine, Daisies, and a Sawed-off Shotgun

Arthur's been here for days, hoping against logic for some sign of rescue. His knight with a sawed-off is just around the corner. My take on Blessed are the Peacemakers for Charthur Exchange Week

Sadithur:

Fun and Games

Sadie and Arthur take to the woods to try and kill some time at Clemens Point. A little competition never hurt anyone, right?

Things Unsaid

Arthur Morgan and Sadie Adler have danced around each other since she joined them on that snowy night in Colter. As Sadie comes into her own, there are plenty of things left unsaid. An excruciatingly late entry for Sadithur Week on Tumblr.

A Tearful Farewell

A quick snip in response to a Maynard Dixon painting.

Shutter

Quick snip inspired by whatnowfriend and their photo of Arthur.

Misc:

On My Own

Making his way across the West after his father’s hanging, a young Arthur gets himself into more trouble than he's ready for.

Exit, Pursued by Consequences

John knows he’s not supposed to bring anything else back to camp, but when he finds it all alone in the wilderness he knows has no choice. Hosea and Dutch be damned. No ship, young VDL Gang.

You Will Always Be Fond of Me

Arthur, Dutch, and John take on a stage robbery to bring in some cash for the gang. Entry for the first round of Saturday’s Red Dead Rodeo. No ship.

And to All a Good Night

Arthur has never been one to get excited about Christmas. Sean decides that this year, he'll help the old man find his Holiday spirit. So long as Arthur doesn't kill him first. No Ship.

Baptized in Your Name Arthur Morgan x Charlotte Balfour

The rugged stranger who found her at her lowest turns back up on Charlotte Balfour’s doorstep, offering help as she navigates her new life in the remote wilderness. Determined as hell, she lets him teach her a thing or two about guns, and finds herself offering her own help in turn. But as questions of his past bubble to the surface, will she find the man she believes him to be, or will she learn of a darker side?

First Kiss Tilly Jackson x MaryBeth Gaskill

Rarepair Week Day 1. Mary-Beth is forever nose-deep in a romance novel, daydreaming of knights and lords and ladies in kind. Tilly is determined to help her see the story that’s right in front of her.

Darkness Arthur Morgan x Josiah Trelawney

Rarepair Week Day 3. Josiah and Arthur run into some trouble on a night out in Saint Denis- but they always have each other to help pick themselves back up.

Requests are always welcome, and comments/kudos/likes/reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you for reading, I love you all 💕

#my fic #masterlist #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 masterlist #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 fanfiction

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gatheringbones · 3 years

Note

how do i deal with the good parts of my abuser? when it's bad it's nightmarish and unspeakable and traumatizing but when it's good it's the safest i've ever felt and something i'm never, ever going to get back if i end this

you keep those bits you loved about them and you keep them alive in yourself and you find them in other people.

and once that lack of contact settles in the bits you love about them can finally be separate from the threat they present to you— you can finally appreciate and examine them and learn from them on their own merits without running the risk of being sucked back into the gravity well of abuse. the love and admiration and respect you feel for them can finally exist without exposing you to more harm.

my mom loved an underdog. nothing fired her up more than the idea of somebody not knowing the one piece of information that might save their life. she loved paying and being paid under the table. she went on nightmare elk hunts with terrible men and always hiked her way out. she climbed every mountain in the olympics and nothing ever killed her. she loathed a coward. she looked me dead in the eye and told me that my dad said the mean things he did to trick me into feeling so bad I would do anything he said, that it was smoke and mirrors and that I didn’t need to fall for it. she told me that if any adult ever asked me to keep a secret that I should come and tell her right away and that I would never get in trouble. she could cook anything, bake anything, sew anything, and she devoured new information on history and politics and culture at the speed of light. she was impossible to intimidate. she could fill a gallon bucket with blackberries and dig her limit in razor clams and she always found enough chanterelles for christmas gravy. the ravens loved her. she took me and my sheltered, closeted friends to every drag event and queer community event she possibly could and never told their parents. she was the bravest, smartest, funniest, and most interesting person I have ever met.

and I get you— it’s a trap, feeling that much love for somebody who presents that much of a threat. and there’s the fact that the loving vibrant image I just described for you is partially a projection on my part, a fictionalized version of her that doesn’t entirely match up with the actual person she is (which is just another part of the grieving process— the bit where you mourn the person they never entirely were to you).

and I get that feeling of “when it’s good it’s good, it’s the safest and best I’ve ever felt” because your brain and your abuse-sharpened instincts know exactly when your abuser is safe to be around and there’s no better feeling in the world. there’s this accompanying feeling of everything being worth it for just one more moment like this, when they’re calm and stable and safe to be around. but it’s not. the costs are too high, and those moments are too few and far between, and those good memories and good moments become weaponized against you in that you’ll endure anything just so long as you get a taste of what that kind of safety feels like. But that’s simply not sustainable. It’s so bad for you. It’s so bad. You deserve to find out what it’s like to live a long period of time without those nightmare ups and downs. So much makes itself clear to you after that first year of no contact, to say nothing of the second, or the third, or the seventh.

and it turns out it’s just grief. the thing you’re trying to avoid with all your might by maintaining that degrading, corrosive, life-inhibiting connection is just grief. and grief will sweep in and leave everything a jumbled, stinking wreckage for a long, long time, but then the edges get filed down and it turns out it can be lived with far more sustainably than the abuse. And the best qualities of your abuser can finally be what they are, enshrined with love and admiration in your heart, without that desperate internal imperative to reconnect.

#cw abuse

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bellemorte180 · 2 years

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first lines

Rules: List the first lines of your last 10 (HA!) stories. See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag some people to take part.Tagged by @thetourguidebarbie Thank you for the tag! Sigh.....I have SO MANY WIP. And I did the first paragraph of each fic 🤷🏽‍♀️

The Machiavellian

July 1918

She ran down the hill, the sharp intake breath piercing her lungs making it difficult to breath. Her skin was slick with sweat, making her white dress cling to her body. Her corset dug into her ribs causing movement to be difficult. The setting sun beating down on her as she pushed forward did not help her for she was not used to such exercise but she did not let that stop her. She couldn’t. She just had to keep running. Her life depended upon it.

Of Temptations and Pomegranate Seeds

The first time he saw her, she was standing among flowers in shades of pastel pinks and rose gold. Her pure white wings fluttered behind her, her long blond hair hanging around her shoulders. She knelt upon the ground, dirt covering her faded blue dress and her hands holding a flower in the palm of her hand. A tree was arched above her, forever moving in unison with her, blocking the warm sun from blemishing her perfect skin.

A Portrait of a Broken Marriage

Klaus maneuvered his way through the crowd, the scent of creole lingering in the air as he sipped on his morning coffee. The early sun beat down upon him and a cool breeze had him pulling his light coat tighter around him. The aftermath of Mardi Gras was always something that made Klaus shake his head. Memories consumed him of his own youth, recklessness that had him questioning his sanity when he was young.

Three Hundred Miles of Good Road

The English Gazette

March 15, 1813

My dear readers,

Another season is upon us and as London is flooded with the elite and highest of the Ton, I am once again pondering the questions of what exactly makes up society? What is it and who e xactly decides what is or is not appropriate? I personally find that the highest of society are nothing more than sycophants dressed in pompous clothing and fill the dark void of their lives with vices and temptations that they scorn the lower class for.

O'Holy Night

Christmas Eve, 2010

The bells chimed, a haunting echo that pierced through the cold air. A low breath was let out, hanging before her in a white mist. The lifeless-gray headstone appeared in a soft blanket of snow, the ground having frozen over the empty casket. It was strange to think that a year ago, she had been nothing more than a girl, with dreams of a future and it was strange to reflect on that part of her life. A life before a pillow covered her face, taking away any breath she had, the face of her best friend staring down at her. The last strand of innocence died a slow death that day.

Echoes of Sorrow

Rye, East Sussex, England

The heels clicked against the hardwood floor of her tudor style cottage. A few people milled about her home, checking the schedules and ensuring her make-up was perfect. She had sent her fiance and daughter away from the house to ensure that her young three year old did not find her way into trouble during the interview. She pushed her long curls behind her ear, turning to look at her reflection in the glass window, barely seeing the soft snow that was falling in the cold March weather. It was a soft white blanket that laid upon the ground, echoing a peacefulness that she had struggled to find in her life.

The Long Road Home

Caroline Elizabeth Mikaelson

I Intend to be your Last

October 10, 1924 - February 19, 2016

Just Another Fairytale

Once upon a time, the Kingdom of Orleans was reaching a new age and it’s security hung in the balance. The kingdom stood between the Northern Mountains of Rousseau and the Southern Mystic Sea. To the West was the bayou, a swampy grassland that typically held the poorest of the kingdom while in the East held the rich and thick forest of Abattoir. A village was located not far from the forest and it profited well due to a long dirt road that led to the royal castle. The foot traffic alone was enough to make the local tavern stay afloat.

Last Love

“Does it ever make you think that every time he texts you, you feel your heart sink?” Klaus asked her, sipping on his bourbon at the Mystic Grill. Caroline narrowed her eyes at him in annoyance. His smirk placed on his lips and Caroline wanted nothing more than to smack it off his face. However, she knew better than to take on the Original Hybrid; he would wipe the floor with her.

Death in its Purest Form

The lights flickered overhead, the fluorescent hugh gazing overhead as Caroline breathed in the sterile smell of the room. Staring at the white false brick of the wall, unable to gaze at anything else. The high pitched ringing that sounded in her ears blurred out everything else around her. There was a voice, mingled in the sound; something distant and far away. Eyes looked at her, expecting an answer but she had nothing to say. No words could form from her lips as she felt her throat dry up and tighten.

Tagging: @helpless-in-sleep @klavscaroline @little-miss-sunny-daisy@cupcakemolotov @princess-of-the-worlds @darkestgrays

#klaroline #tag games

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spencerreidslove · 4 years

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Let’s Be Bad

A/N: I was rewatching season 6 episode 13 “The Thirteenth Step” when it hit me. What if Spencer and Y/N were a crime duo being hunted by the BAU? So this idea was born. This fic is my baby and probably one of the longest things I have ever written. There is mentions of aclchol, a couple sexual themes, and normal Criminal Minds case stuff, so be aware. Let me know if you guys want a part 2 with their interrogation and stuff.

————-

“Buckle up crime fighters, because this one is bad.” Garcia said, standing up at the board. She clicked the remote to show a murder scene, four bodies in total, in a totally destroyed gas station.

“Not only did our bad guy murder four people last night in Chandler, Arizona, the police believe that he also did this.”

Gracia clicked her remote and the picture changed to another scene, six bodies this time, in a drugstore.

“A massacre just outside of Las Vegas, three weeks ago.”

“Three weeks is a long cooling off period.” Rossi said.

“M.O’s the same, though. All shot in the head and then all dragged into a line, store totally destroyed.” Prentiss said.

“With last night’s murder bringing the body count up to 10, the police need our help now. Wheels up in thirty.” Hotch said, standing up from the table.

“Seriously? You want to go somewhere cold?” Spencer asked as you made your way into a small sandwich shop, just over the Utah border.

“Yes! Imagine waking up on Christmas Day to a white Christmas.” You said, wrapping your arms around one of Spencer’s.

“Where would we go that’s like that?” He asked, looking up at the menu, printed on a board.

“Wyoming. Up in the mountains. It’s nice there. We’ll get a cabin, live up there, together.”

“Alright,” Spencer said, smiling. “We’ll go to Wyoming. After.” He put one of his arms around your shoulders.

“After.” You agreed.

The two of you made your way to the counter, where a man, no older than 20 or so was waiting.

“What can I get you?” He asked, cleaning a spot on the counter.

He looked up and immediately his eyes latched onto yours.

Spencer said his sandwich order, but the boy didn’t seem to hear him. He was too busy staring at you, making you very uncomfortable.

“Hey.” Spencer said, slamming his hand on the counter. This seemed to knock the boy out of his trance.

“Sorry.” The boy said, still not taking his eyes off you.

“Take your eyes off my girlfriend and take our orders.” Spencer said, getting angrier.

“Sorry, she’s just like really pretty.” The boy said. Under his breath he mumbled, “I don’t see how she ended up with you.”

“That’s it.” Spencer said. He reached into his waistband and pulled out his pistol. Spencer quickly shot the boy in the head, and then turned to the other two patrons in the store. He quickly shot them, and then started moving to put them in a line.

This wasn’t the plan. You had only killed 2 days ago, the police would be quick to link you to this murder. But, Spencer sometimes had a temper and when it took over, there was no going back.

You pulled out your own pistol, and shot the remaining store worker who had come out from the back room.

“I’ll line them up.” You said to Spencer. “Go clear the security cameras.”

Spencer nodded and went into the back room. You spent the next few minutes lining the bodies up in a row. When you went into the back room, you saw Spencer toying with the panel that controlled the cameras.

The cameras quickly went blank, and only showed dark screens.

“I’m so glad you’re smart enough to know how to do that.” You said.

“IQ of 187 sweetheart.” Spencer said. “C’mon, let’s get going before the cops show up.”

“Hotch!” Emily called putting across the parking lot. “You aren’t going to believe this.”

Hotch turned his attention from the local police officer to Emily.

“A witness was next door at the craft store and saw a man and woman leave the sandwich shop together a couple of minutes after the gunfire.” Emily said.

“We’re looking for a man and woman killing team?” Hotch asked.

Emily shrugged. “Apparently.”

“Another witness said he saw the back of the liscine plate from across the street.” Morgan said, coming up to the group. “He didn’t get any numbers but he saw it was from Nevada.”

“Makes sense of their first murder was in Vegas.” Emily said.

“Prentiss, make sure the witness who saw the man and woman gets to a sketch artist. Morgan, see if the man remembers what type of car they were driving, then see if Garcia can find anybody from Nevada who drives that model.” Hotch said, directing out tasks.

“Going from three weeks to a 2 day cooling period is a massive deescalation.” Rossi said. “Something in that shop must’ve set them off.”

“You said the security cameras were wiped?” Hotch asked.

“Yeah, you can’t even access them now.” Rossi said.

“Get then to Garcia, she’s the only person who might be able to get them back and working”.

“They’ve found out that we’re a man and a woman team.” You said, calling out to Spencer, who was in the bathroom. You were laying on the bed in a random hotel, watching the news, where a blonde woman was talking about your most recent murder.

“Doesn’t matter. They haven’t linked us to the others, have they?” Spencer asked, coming out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist.

“They don’t have a clue.” You said.

“Good. For all they know we just shoot random people. They have no clue about the others.” He said.

You smiled as he came over beside you and started kissing your neck. “They’re never gonna get us.” He said.

You laughed a little as Spencer nicked lower on your neck.

“They’re too stupid to know what we’ve done.” You said. You could feel Spencer smile as he continued his kisses lower.

“What have you got Garcia?” Hotch asked to the laptop that was sitting on a table in the local police precinct.

“Not a lot, sir. Whoever wiped these cameras is some kind of genius. It’s nearly impossible to get the footage. And I am a cyber genius.” Garcia said.

“So you can’t get any footage off them?”

“Sir, I said it was nearly impossible. I will have this footage recovered wether it kills me. Au revoir!” Garcia said, signing off.

“These sketches aren’t helpful in the slightest.” Prentiss said dropping the pictures on the table. “The witness said she only saw the side profile of the woman and the man had sunglasses on and was faced away from her for most of the time.”

Hotch sighed. “We don’t have enough.”

“Ok, why these people? Why these places? They’re clearly going somewhere, but where is that?” Morgan asked.

“We have too many questions and not enough answers.” JJ said.

You were laying across the backseat of the car, your head in Spencer’s lap. You were drinking some kind of random alcohol Spencer had picked up straight out of the bottle.

“I can’t believe we’re here.” Spencer said, stroking your hair and looking out of the window.

“I could’ve waited.” You said.

Your car was parked down the street from your childhood home. It was your brother’s birthday and you knew he would be home. It was finally time to exact your revenge, just had Spencer did.

“Y/N, c’mon. It’ll be good for him to be gone.” Spencer said. “Plus, I get to see your childhood room in all its glory.”

You laughed a little and shoved him lightly. “You got it?” You asked.

Spencer moved as he reachedfor his bag in the front seat. He pulled out a small vile of poison. “Wouldn’t forget it.”

You slowly sat up. “We have a birthday party to attend.”

“Oh!” Garcia cried, looking at her computer screen.

She quickly reached over and dialed for Hotch’s phone number. “What have you got, Garcia?”

“I got the footage back! It took a lot of work and a lot of trouble but I got it! It’s already sent to your tablets.”

Hotch picked up the tablet and clicked play on the video Garcia sent him. In the video, a young man and woman were walking into a sandwich shop, talking and holding hands.

“Keep an eye on those customers that just walked in.” Garcia said.

They reached the counter and engaged in a heated discussion with a worker.

“There’s no sound on the original video, so I don’t know what they’re saying.” Garcia said.

The man took a pistol out of his waistband and shot the worker, and then turned and shop the other customers. The woman reached and grabbed a pistol and shop the other employee that had come running out.

The woman began lining the bodies up while the man disappeared into the back room. The woman joined him, and then the cameras went dark.

“Garcia, run their faces, see if anything comes up.” Hotch said.

“Already on it. If they have ever been photographed, I will find their entire life.”

Hotch let out a sigh of relief.

They finally had a break in the case.

“I’m nervous.” You said. You and Spencer were standing on the front porch of your childhood house, waiting to ring the bell.

“It’ll be fine. We get in, act all friendly, and then we put it into their drinks, and then we get out.” Spencer said, coming over and rubbing your back.

“Alright.” You said, ringing the doorbell.

There was a moment before somebody came to the door. “Y/N?” A woman asked on the other side of the door.

“Hi, Mom.” You said.

“I thought you said you’d never wanted to come back here again?” Your mom asked.

“Yeah, well things change.” You said. “This is Spencer, he’s coming in too.”

You and Spencer made your way past your mom into the living room where your brother and his wife were sitting.

“Y/N?” You brother asked.

“Max.” You said, addressing him. “Happy Birthday.” It took everything in your power not to slap him. He was the reason for all your suffering.

“It’s nice to see you.” He said, standing up and going to hug you. You flinched slightly, but still managed to hug him back. He squeezed you just a little too tightly.

“And who’s this?” Max asked, looking at Spencer.

“Spencer.” You said.

Max sighed and shook his head. “Never one to elaborate.” He stuck out his hand for Spencer to shake.

Spencer kindly shook it back, giving Max just the slightest smile.

“Happy Birthday.” Spencer said.

You caught Spencer’s eye as Max moved to sit back down. It would be a happy birthday, just not for Max.

“We are looking for a man and woman killing team, they are most likely in a relationship and are on a mission.” Hotch said, standing in front of the local PD.

“At this time we do not know what their mission is, but we believe they are on a trip to reach that point. They started in Nevada, and were last seen in Utah. They could be headed for any of the surrounding states, including back to Nevada or Arizona.” Prentiss said.

“They are rapidly devolving, as they went from having a three week cooling off period, to two days. We don’t know when they’ll strike again and have to catch them sooner rather than later.” Rossi said.

“All of their attacks have been in small stores; a drug store, a gas station, a sandwich shop. We believe they choose these places due to personal connection to one. Whoever they are going after probably owns a small store.” Morgan said.

“With that in mind, we suggest all owners of small stores who know somebody who looks like this, to keep an eye out. Do not try to approach them, they are armed and dangerous.” JJ said, from her place outside, briefing the news.

“Everybody keep an eye out and be vigilant.” Hotch said.

The crowd dispersed. Morgan’s phone began to ring.

“Talk to me Babygirl.” He said, answering.

“Well, tall dark and handsome I have some great news for you. I got a hit off the faces from the security feed.” Garcia said.

Morgan put her on speakerphone and the team gathered around to listen.

“Your man is Spencer Reid. Child prodigy from Las Vegas, he graduated high school at age 12 and his IQ tests 187. He dropped out of college at age 16 due to the fact that his mother’s schizophrenia was getting worse. Reid became her full time caregiver until around age 25, when he sighned her up for a new drug test that involved her living in a new campus.

“It seemed to be working, until a year ago when the main Doctor administered a new drug cocktail that was not FDA approved, and ended up killing Reid’s mother and several other patients.” Garcia said.

“Garcia, where’s that doctor now? They might be going to kill him if they both lost a parent.” Rossi said.

“I would say yes, but it seems like they already have. Four weeks ago the doctor, his wife, and son were found dead in their apartment from cyanide poisoning.” Garcia said.

“What about the girl?” Prentiss asked.

“Her name is Y/N Y/L/N. She is from Silverton, Colorado. She was working in a casino in Vegas until around a month ago.”

“Must be how they met.” Morgan said.

“She filed several cases against her older brother Max Y/L/N for physical abuse, but the charges were dropped everytime. From the looks of her hospital records it was bad.”

“They’ve exacted their revenge on Reid’s nemesis, now they want revenge for Y/N. Garcia what’s Max’s address?” Hotch said.

“He won’t be there. On his wife’s Instagram it says they’re going home for his birthday. I’ve sent you that address.” Garcia said.

“We need to get there, and fast.” Rossi said.

Talking and laughing with your family for several hours was painful, and Spencer could tell. They had watched you suffer for years at the hands of your brother, and did nothing.

“Why don’t I refill everybody’s drinks?” You asked, standing up.

“I’ll help you.” Spencer said.

After you had collected everybody’s cups, you made your way to the kitchen where you filled everybody’s cups with what they had asked for.

Spencer pulled the cyanide vial out of his pocket, and put a little bit in each cup. When you returned to the living room, you handed everybody their cups and watched as they took drinks.

It would be a few minutes before the poison started to kick in, but you couldn’t wait.

After a few moments, your mom started to choke.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Your dad asked. Then he started to choke. After just a few seconds, everybody was on the floor, choking in pain.

You and Spencer quickly came around, grabbing phones and smashing them with your heels, making sure no one could call 911.

When you reached Max, you kicked his face. “That’s what you get you son of a bitch!”

You kicked him again, and again. Before you could do some more damage, Spencer grabbed your arm.

“We better get out of here, darling. We have a lot of ground to cover.” He said. You nodded and followed him out of the house, with one last slam of the door.

“Dammit!” Morgan said, entering the house and seeing that all members of the Y/L/N family were dead in the living room floor.

“They’ve already been here.”

“Hotch, these bodies are still warm, they can’t be far away.” Prentiss said. “We probably just missed them.”

“Hey! We just got a hit from APB, their car was seen headed twoards a hotel a few miles from here.” The local sheriff said.

“Dave stay here and figure out what happened, Morgan, Prentiss, JJ, with me.” Hotch said.

You and Spencer we laying on your bed in your hotel room, drinking the same alcohol from earlier.

“You were right.” You said.

“I am about most things. Be more specific.” Spencer said, taking the bottle from you.

“That it would feel good to have him gone.” You said. “I already feel twenty times freer.”

“I knew you would.” Spencer said. He placed the bottle on the bed side table and rolled ove on top of you. “I know lots of things that would make you feel good.”

Suddenly, there was a pounding on the door.

“Spencer Reid! Y/N Y/L/N! This is the FBI open the door!” A male voice called from the outside.

You and Spencer both looked at each other in terror.

Could they maybe have found us? Your eyes asked.

The door was suddenly knocked open and FBI agents were flooding into your room.

Spencer and you were being pulled apart and cuffed.

“Spencer Reid, Y/N Y/L/N, you are being charged with the murders of 21 people.” A serious looking man said.

“What?” You said. “You have the wrong people!”

“No we’re pretty sure we don’t.” A brunette woman said.

“You have to have the wrong people! We haven’t done anything!” Spencer said.

You were both being hauled up by the agents behind you.

“Anything you say can and will be held against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.” The agent behind you said, reading off your Miranda rights.

Your eyes caught Spencer’s as you were pulled to separate police cars.

Could this really be it? You thought. It looked like it just might be.

Tags! (Open)

@rexorangecouny @magnificentmgg @rachelxwayne @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @just-damn-bored @andreasworlsboring101

#aaron hotchner #cm #criminal minds fanfiction #david rossi #derek morgan #dr spencer reid #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #mgg #spencer reid fanfic #penelope garcia #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

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