#I’d like to be pleasantly surprised but I doubt that will happen

[chaotic-kitty]

I screen recorded Nadia’s tale as well!!

(Definitely did not forget to post this👀)

It’s saved to this google drive folder. It has Asra’s and Nadia’s tales (minus the payed scenes.) I’ll be uploading a playthrough for each tale they do, and they’ll all be there. <3

My Thoughts: (potential spoilers)

Again, it wasn’t that bad, but it wasn’t that good either.

Nadia and the MC both felt OOC.

I loved the idea of vulnerable Nadia! But, it just didn’t feel like Nadia. We’ve seen her vulnerable before, this was someone else’s kind of vulnerability….if that makes sense?

Every scene was basically the same thing but new setting. MC was playing therapist to Nadia every damn scene.

I liked the fact that the townsfolks brought up what we’ve been saying for a while. Their feelings were incredibly justified and often overlooked, so I’m glad they got their moment to say that.

The MC made me want to just scream in that scene. They honestly sounded like they lacked empathy and understanding of the situation; making water puns when going to a flood stricken area. 🙄 Real classy.

The storyline was interesting. It had potential but it felt, again, like it was poorly executed. It was longer than it needed to be. It was lacklustre and boring.

The other M4 seemed OOC, too. Especially Julian! He was acting like Lucio. He wouldn’t act like that. He has some respect and is too anxious and stuff to make himself at home quite like that.

The trip to the magical realms seemed unneeded in the story. I mean, I get why they went….but it didn’t have any sort of effect.

And I really didn’t like how the whole story had no resolution whatsoever. I know a story doesn’t need one, but given this is a tale…..kinda makes sense to have something. Especially if they already did a time jump in said tale.

I have other points I might add later.

#I’m really not looking forward to the other ones #well less so than I already was #i know all the ways the other M4 are mistreated and written by people and it seems that’s the way this is gonna go #I’d like to be pleasantly surprised but I doubt that will happen #the arcana #the arcana nadia #the arcana apprentice #the arcana game #the arcana fandom #fictif

[lambtotheslaughterr]

I Burn : Part Six

A Rafe Cameron Mini Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 4.7k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

PART FIVE | MASTERLIST | PART SEVEN

            Later that night, you decided to hide out in your room. After Rafe’s suggestive thoughts, all you wanted was to be alone. You had ignored Dr. Mooney’s concerned looks as you loaded into the van, & pointedly ignored Rafe’s sat ahead of you in the van. Rafe was wrong. You didn’t feel tugged between two men, you felt like a piece of meat. Whether it was true or not, Rafe had planted the seeds in your mind. Now, you didn’t feel like you could be open towards Dr. Mooney. And that was a major loss as you felt Dr. Mooney was the one man in your life who didn’t sum you up to be a harlot. He cared about you, more than your own father did. But after what Rafe said… You didn’t know who you could trust.

            You skipped dinner that night, instead using that time to write in your journal that Dr. Mooney had given you. But you weren’t writing because you were feeling the burn. You wrote about everything that Rafe had told you. How you felt confused, betrayed, troubled. And after filling out a couple pages, you reread what you wrote & that’s when you realized something major. Recovery was working. You were disappointed that a trusted man wanted you, if it were true. You may have felt that brief burning at the beach, but it ultimately died out. You didn’t want Dr. Mooney to want you, not like you had when you first came to the facility. You wanted him to respect you, to be proud of you.

            Though the epiphany brought a sense of comfort & a smile to your face—you were getting better—it too brought doubt. About your future here. How could you continue your one-on-one sessions with Dr. Mooney now that you would be reading into every word he said, every action he took towards you. Rafe had gotten into your head & that burned.

            You resolved that you would avoid Rafe for the rest of your time here. He had never done anything to help you. He tempted you, pushed you to embrace your addiction rather than fight against it. Rafe didn’t care about you, that much had become obvious to you. In the beginning, you had been drawn to him, regretfully. And he took advantage of it. As you reflected on the last couple weeks: how he got into your head on his first day, his rejection of you at the community garden, cornering you in the hall closet, even following you into the quiet room. Rafe was bored, like everyone else was under that rood. You were only a toy to him. So, fuck him.

            As you were sitting at your desk, your back to the door, you heard a gentle rap on the doorframe. You turned in your seat, dreading that it would be object of your endless thoughts, but you were pleasantly surprised that it was Albert.

            “Hey.” Albert was holding a plate of food. “You weren’t at dinner, so I figured I’d bring you food.”

            “Oh,” you stood up awkwardly, tossing your journal onto the desk, “thanks, Albert.”

            You gestured for him to come inside & he did, offering you the plate. You took it but placed it on the nightstand by your bed. Your appetite was still non-existent.

            “You alright?” He asked, but you knew he only asked since the answer was obvious.

            You shrugged, “I don’t know.”

            “What’s going on?” Albert leaned against the opposite wall, his hands in his pockets as he stared concerningly at you.

            “I don’t know.” You repeated, avoiding his eyes. Though you didn’t trust Rafe & now Dr. Mooney, you still couldn’t find it in yourself to place your trust in someone else.

            “Something happened at the beach.” Albert commented without question. “Didn’t it?”

            Your eyes briefly met his before you shook your head, “Just the same old bullshit. You know how it is.”

            “Sure.” Albert nodded but he didn’t appear convinced, “But I don’t like Rafe, don’t trust him. And he had to of said something to upset you. You were quiet in the van.”

            Damn Albert & his too observant behaviors.

            “It’s really not your business.” You soured.

            Albert half-scoffed, half-laughed but he wasn’t amused.

            “You need a friend.”

            “I have friends.” You replied sternly, “Ones that aren’t addicts & life ruiners.”

            “Wow.” Albert cocked his head, “Ouch.”

            Guilt flooded you immediately. This was Rafe’s doing. Your walls & distrust because of him were now being directed at people who didn’t deserve it.

            “I’m sorry.” You sighed, holding your head in your hands, “You’re right. I do need a friend.”

            Albert waved away your apology, replacing it with a sympathetic smile, “Talk to me, dude. Anything you say will stay between us.”

            “And Siena? You won’t go running to her with the gossip.” Albert & Siena had become attached at the hip in the last couple weeks. In fact, you were surprised she wasn’t in your bedroom with the two of you.

            Albert chuckled, “I love Siena. And I love Siena because she couldn’t give a shit about any of the drama surrounding others.”

            “That’s not a confirmation that you won’t say anything.” You teased, but there was an undertone of seriousness.

            “I won’t say a word.” Albert promised.

            So, you told Albert everything. While Dr. Mooney wasn’t allowed to indulge others about your sessions & what the two spoke about, the same couldn’t be said for you. You informed Albert about your struggles, Dr. Mooney’s support, Rafe’s mind-fucking, & finally, about what Rafe had told you about Dr. Mooney at the beach. By the time you were finished, you looked to Albert for comfort, or at least some sense of what you should do.

            But Albert’s silence unsettled you.

            “What?” You frowned.

            Albert looked at you once then sighed, standing up from where he was sat beside you on your bed, “I, uh, heard something the other night.”

            “What did you hear?” You questioned.

            “These walls,” Albert pointed to the walls of your bedroom, “they aren’t that thick. Voices carry.”

            You just watched him as he appeared to struggle to tell you what he was trying to.

            “My room is next to Rafe’s. And one night, pretty late actually, just before light’s out, I heard another voice from inside Rafe’s room.”

            “Okay…”

            Albert stared solemnly at you, “It was Dr. Mooney.”

            Dr. Mooney? He was never at the facility that late. Why would he…?

            “He was warning Rafe to stay away from you.”

            That heart in your stomach feeling returned with a vigor.

            “But that doesn’t mean anything…” You tried to pitifully defend your doctor, despite your own negative feelings towards him.

            “I didn’t think so either at the time. I thought it was strange that he was confronting a patient in their room, especially that late at night. And honestly, I was siding with him. I mean, I’ve said it myself to Rafe, to stay away from you, so I thought Dr. Mooney was just looking out for your best interests too but…”

            When he paused for a lengthy amount of time, you pushed, “But what?”

            “But” Albert sighed, shaking his head, “I don’t know. After what you just told me, perhaps Rafe is right. What Dr. Mooney did, or how he did it, was out of character for someone in his position. Seems personal now.”

            You swallowed your discomfort. Could it actually be possible that Rafe was telling the truth? The potential made your head swim sickeningly.

            “Oh, god.” You held yourself, pressing your face into your arms.

            Albert noticed your change in body language, returning to his spot beside you. He placed a hand on your back, rubbing circles there, “Look, I could be wrong! I hope I’m wrong. And Rafe could’ve just twisted the conversation to get in your head.”

            “But you heard it yourself, Albert! Rafe even has you questioning…” You sighed in frustration, “Everything has gone to shit.”

            Albert offered a small smile, but it did little to make you feel better, “I feel like I just made things worse.”

            “No.” You rushed out, “You didn’t. You helped. I just… don’t know what to do now. Do I tell my parents?”

            Albert dropped his hand at that, seemingly deep in thought.

            “What now?” You asked exasperated.

            “You’re just making me remember something.”

            “Well, what?!” Albert’s pauses were beginning to get on your nerves. If he was here to ease you, he wasn’t succeeding.

            “It was just gossip at the time, there was no proof of it & all speculation, as far as us patients went.” Albert began, “But when I was here the first time, a year ago, there was a rumor that Dr. Mooney was sleeping with one of the patients. She was here one day then gone the next. No good-bye party or anything. Just gone. And then Dr. Mooney was gone, too. ‘On vacation’, they said. But I don’t know. The timing was concerning.”

            You frowned.

            “We thought that maybe they were just saying he was on vacation while they investigated, but of course we never heard anything else, if there even was an investigation. If it was even true.”

            Your head was spinning. You felt nauseous.

            “But he came back. And everything was normal. He was his normal self. All the nurses & other doctors still treated him like they had before he left. That’s why it was just gossip. People could’ve just been bored, coming up with their own theories & that’s just the one that stuck.”

            You shook your head, “You should go.”

            Albert wasn’t helping. When you got back to the facility from the beach, you were already exhausted from the information Rafe fed you, & now Albert was feeding into that more so.

            “_____?”

            You stood up, “I’m sorry, Albert. I’m tired. I just need to be alone.”

            Albert frowned but said nothing, just nodded & stood up, “I really didn’t mean to make things worse.”

            You nodded but couldn’t say anything further. Once Albert crossed your threshold, you slammed the door shut. Then you dragged yourself down against the door until your butt met the cool floor.

            What the fuck was going on?

            Today was a bad day. It was one thing to have to face Albert, Rafe, & Dr. Mooney in group session, but it was another thing to have it observed by Dr. Frazer. He was the head doctor & director of Arrowhead. Whenever he came around, which wasn’t often, everyone felt restless. He had steely eyes, a stiff stance, & hardly spoke a word. Just quietly observed.

            That day in group session, you forcefully placed yourself between Siena & Renee, not wanting to sit near any of the men, but that only meant you were forced to look at them. You felt you couldn’t win for as long as you were trapped in the facility.

            And today’s group session topic had been brutal. Discussion surrounded how your addiction harmed those closest to you. Renee, as usual, never took the questions seriously, always giving short, brief answers. Albert & Siena were thoughtful in their responses, humbling in nature & self-reflective of their recklessness. But when it came to be your turn, you felt like you would projectile vomit over everyone.

            “Um.” You felt your hands shaking, so you hid them between your thighs, “I think the person who has been effected the most by my addiction is my dad.”

            You kept your eyes low, unable to look anyone in the eye. Too scared to.

            “Because of what I did he was forced to fire his TA. And since then he has been facing a lot of backlash at work.”

            Renee gave a soft chuckle but quickly hid it with a forced throat clearing. You ignored her reaction.

            “How does that make you feel?” Dr. Mooney questioned. You still hadn’t looked him directly in his eyes. You stared at his shoes.

            “Like shit.” You admitted, “I’ve never been really close to my dad, but now he can’t look at me. Treats me like scum.”

            Dr. Mooney hummed, “Have you considered that perhaps he feels like he failed you?”

            You flashed your eyes to Dr. Mooney’s, “What?”

            “Your father. Oftentimes the people closest to us are so angry with themselves for not addressing the addictions they see in their loved ones that they will sometimes project their feelings outwards.”

            You shook your head, “No, not him. He doesn’t blame himself, that much I know.”

            “It’s something to consider though.”

            “No.” You interjected, your voice hard, “It isn’t. My dad sees me for the whore that I am.”

            Renee snickered beside you, clearly amused by your antics. Dr. Mooney widened his eyes, briefly flashing them towards Dr. Frazer who sat in a chair similar to your own outside the circle.

            “Everyone here does.” You pointed out, gesturing to Renee, “She’s the only one who calls me what I am. Nympho, right.”

            “_____.” Dr. Mooney said your name firmly, likely in an attempt to control the conversation being had in front of his boss, but you were having none of it.

            “What?” You returned, shaking your head, “You taught us that the first step in recovery is admitting to our problems. I am a whore! I’m saying what it is!”

            In that moment, your eyes landed on Rafe who sat beside Dr. Mooney. He was slouched in his seat, his arms crossed in front of his chest. You hated that you couldn’t make out what he was thinking or feeling, but you hated even more that his stare was unwavering as you made a spectacle of yourself.

            “You’re a fucking asshole.” You pointed at Rafe. Then you turned to Renee, “And you’re a miserable bitch.” Renee laughed out loud at that.

            “_____!” Dr. Mooney & Albert said your name in unison, but it didn’t deter you.

            “And you two.” You stared at Dr. Mooney & Albert.

            “You’re weak.” You said to Albert. The flash of hurt on his face stayed with you but a moment as you focused your attention on the doctor directly across from you, “And you’re a fucking creep.”

            Dr. Mooney stood quickly then, dropping his clipboard onto his seat. You mirrored his movement, kicking your chair out from behind you so you could leave, “How’s that for harming those closest to me?”

            “_____.” Dr. Mooney’s voice was hard but a harder, deeper voice overpowered his.

            “Dr. Mooney.” Everyone stilled as Dr. Frazer spoke. It was only the second time in your stay at Arrowhead that you had heard his voice, “Sit back down.”

            Dr. Frazer then turned his eyes onto you. In an instant, your rebellious attitude had been stamped out. Unable to stand all eyes on you, & more so, how you had spit some horrible words at people, one of whom you particularly cared about, you rushed out of the room. You were a coward.

            No one came looking for you the rest of the day, not even Dr. Mooney. You didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. And now, you too didn’t have any friends. Albert had been your only one & you had insulted him in front of your peers. You cried yourself to sleep that night, knowing that the rest of your stay at the facility would be dreadful. But it was all your doing. There was no one to blame but yourself.

            The next morning though, before even breakfast, Nurse Carney appeared in your doorway.

            “Come with me.”

            Nurse Carney was usually all smiles & sunshine trapped within human skin. But there was no smile or bright radiance emanating from her as she looked at you.

            “Where are we going?”

            But she said nothing.

            So, you were forced to follow her through the corridors of the facility until she led you to the main office. At first, you thought she would bringing you to Dr. Mooney’s office, which you were far from looking forward to, however, she only led you past his office to another at the end of the hallway. The plate on the door made your stomach slosh.

            Dr. Holden Frazer.

            Oh, this couldn’t be good.

            Nurse Carney knocked on the door before the same solid voice from the day before sounded from the other side. She opened the door, poking her head in, “I have _____ here for you.”

            “Thank you, Nurse Carney. You may return to your duties.”

            Nurse Carney nodded, backing up to let you pass. You locked eyes with her once more, but she did not return any sort of kindness in her eyes.

            Dr. Frazer’s office was the complete opposite of Dr. Mooney’s. Whereas Dr. Mooney’s office was warm, welcoming, & comforting, Dr. Frazer’s was sterile, barren of any personality, & lacked any color. You felt immediately unease as you entered it.

            Behind the desk. Dr. Frazer sat upright in his chair, his eyes watching you as you stood before him shamefully. He then gestured for you to sit in one of the two chairs before his desk. Your defiance had been eradicated since yesterday, so you slowly took a seat. The chair itself as cold & uninviting as the office around it.

            “Your mother is on her way here.”

            Your jaw dropped. Oh, fuck.

            Dr. Frazer showed no reaction to your own, “After yesterday, she was called & informed about your outburst. So, she is coming in today for an appointment with myself to discuss your future here.”

            You pressed your lips together, “You’re kicking me out?”

            “That is up to her.” Dr. Frazer responded coldly.

            “And my father?”

            Dr. Frazer remained stoic, “Busy.”

            Of course. Of course he wouldn’t want to come. He was already ashamed of you. He didn’t need you to humiliate him further.

            You swallowed, “I’m sorry about yester—”

            “Apologies do not suffice here, Miss _____.” Dr. Frazer cut you off, “Your behaviour yesterday was unacceptable. You attacked patients & your attending doctor.”

            You hung your head, feeling heat bloom along your spine.

            “I know…”

            Silence hung in the air for a beat before Dr. Frazer spoke again.

            “She will be here within in the hour. I suggest you make yourself presentable & be on your best behaviour if you want to continue your treatment here.”

            You raised your head to meet his eyes behind your lashes.

            “Dismissed.”

            Surprised at his aloofness, you slowly raised yourself out of the seat. Though corporal punishment was no longer allowed in such facilities & care centers, you sure felt like you just had the whipping of your life.

            Exiting Dr. Frazer’s office, you found your way back to your room, ignoring any curious eyes or whispers as you passed by other patients. In the common area, you spotted Albert & Siena lounging on the couch. Albert met your eyes briefly before shaking his head at you & looking away. He was no longer your friend, & you didn’t blame him.

            In your room, you got dressed & applied what little make-up you were allowed to bring to the center. You feared facing your mother & that disappointed look in her eyes, but you were grateful your father wouldn’t be joining her. It wasn’t like you were hoping to see him any time soon either after what he suggested was happening between you & Dr. Mooney the last time he was here.

            After you finished getting ready, you decided to remain hidden in your room until Nurse Carney or another employee came looking for you. You were restless as you waited, watching the hour pass by. Your mother was surely there at that point & yet no one had come for you. You wondered if their meeting was to be one-on-one, & you would know your fate afterwards.

            It was only when another forty-five minutes passed after your mother’s expected arrival that a knock came on your door.

            “Come in.” You announced, though your voice was small.

            It was an assistant nurse who informed you that your mother was waiting for you in the lobby. Following the nurse, you were relieved that there were no familiar faces in the common area. Once in the lobby, you spotted your mother as she spoke heatedly on her cell phone. The nurse left you as you waited off to the side for you mother to get off the phone. She was likely speaking to your father, updating him on how you were no longer allowed treatment at Arrowhead.

            However, once she got off the phone & spotted you, she grinned & approached you before embracing you.

            “Oh, honey.” She smelled like rose water. You buried your face into her blazer as she held you. Tears unexpectedly wetted the collar of her jacket.

            “Mom, I’m sorry.” You lifted your head to look at her, “I’m so sorry.”

            “Baby.” She cupped your cheek before glancing around, “C’mon darling. We’re going out for lunch.”

            “What? What do you mean?”

            Your mother frowned then, “Not here. There’s a lot we must talk about.”

            Your mother was not a fan of Dr. Frazer; she made that abundantly clear as she drove the two of you to a nearby brunch spot.

            “What a cold man.” She had commented, “And how dare he suggest your removal because of a little outburst. Ya know, Steve Summers put his nephew up at Arrowhead, it’s how we learned about it, & that boy was a handful. The stories Steve told your father & I about how much trouble he caused at that facility, yet they kept him. And that doctor, if you can even call him that, has the audacity to want to have you removed? Over my dead body.”

            Your mother’s protectiveness made you smile for the first time in a long time. Now you wish you had been preset in their meeting to see her give Dr. Frazer the same no bullshit attitude he dished.

            “So, I’m staying?”

            “Of course!” Your mother shook her head, “It’s the best treatment center within 100 miles & I’ll be damned if we put somewhere less than that.”

            You felt conflicted at staying, but at least you wouldn’t embarrass your father further.

            Speaking of your dad, “How’d dad take it?”

            Your mother sighed, pursing her lips, “I haven’t told him. Won’t tell him.”

            This was shocking, & out of character. A million questions lied at the tip of your tongue, but your mother pulled into the restaurant. Once the two of you were seated, you were finally able to ask the first of many.

            “Why aren’t you telling dad?” You asked, uninterested in the food menu before you.

            “Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Your mother informed you. Her behaviour changed then, her poise transitioning from confident to worrisome.

            “Your father is going to trial in a couple weeks.”

            “What?!” She shushed you at your surprised reaction.

            “Honey, lower your voice.”

            Lowering your voice, you repeated the shock, “Trial for what?”

            She sighed, dropping her own menu on the table, “John is suing him.”

            Your heart sped up. His TA was suing him?

            “For wrongful termination.” Your mother shared further.

            You sputtered, “What? That’s fucking stupid.”

            “Language.” She reprimanded but ultimately nodded, “But I agree. Unfortunately, John knows what he’s doing. He’ll lose but he doesn’t care.”

            “If he’s going to lose then why is it going to trial?”

            Your mother peered at you then, her eyes sorrowful, “To get the attention of the university. When a case goes to trial any faculty involved must be suspended until the trial closes.”

            “He’s doing it to punish him…” Your voice softened.

            “Yes.” Your mother nodded, “He doesn’t care about winning any money otherwise he would’ve settled out of court. What he wants is to ruin your father’s name.”

            You collapsed against your seat, tears lining your vision, “This is all my fault.”

            “Oh, honey…” But she didn’t argue against your claim.

            “If I hadn’t…” You licked your dry lips, “Then dad would be fine.”

            The two of you sat in silence for some time while your mother ordered for the both of you. But once the food came, you hardly touched your plate as your mother picked at hers.

            “Fortunately,” your mother began, “it will be a closed trial. But…”

            You stared at her, “But what?”

            “Because your father fired John for, you know, your name & condition will be revealed.”

            “They can do that?”

            “You’re not a minor, honey. And having placed you into a recovery center, it shows that your father is aware of your… problems. He could be held accountable.”

            “Wait, so, John could win?”

            “It’s very unlikely.” Your mother reminded you, “Your father has a good set of lawyers defending his case.”

            “But you said…”

            “I know what I said.” The cracks in your mother’s tough exterior was beginning to show. She wasn’t telling you the full truth, that your father may actually lose the case, thus ultimately his career & reputation.

            “I can’t believe this happening.” And it was all your fault. If only you hadn’t approached John, just left him alone. Then none of this would be happening.

            “It’ll be okay. But that’s why I won’t be telling your father about yesterday. He already has enough going on.”

            “Yeah, I get it.” You whispered, shameful.

            Your mother got the check & once the two of you were in the car on the way back to the facility, you finally answered the question you knew she was avoiding thinking about.

            “What if he loses, Mom?”

            Your mother gripped your hand, shaking it in a reassuring manner. She smiled at you, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes, “He won’t.”

            But you weren’t so sure.

            After your mom dropped you off out front, Nurse Carney was waiting for you. She led you back inside. It was midday, lunch time. You had hardly eaten at the restaurant, but your appetite had disappeared with the information surrounding your father’s upcoming trial. Nurse Carney checked you in at the desk then dismissed you to head back to your common area. But your heart was racing, your head was full of noise. You needed to talk to someone. Now.

            Ignoring her, you instead went in the opposite direction of the youth wing & towards the doctor’s offices.

            “_____!” Nurse Carney hollered behind you. You sped up in your walk as you heard her exit the front office to follow after you.

            You had just made it to your destination, knocking rapidly on the door when Nurse Carney appeared next to you.

            “You are not following protocol.”

            “Fuck your protocol.” You rushed out, your breathing coming in shallowly.

            Then the door before you swung open & Dr. Mooney stood in surprise as his eyes glanced between you & Nurse Carney.

            “I’m sorry, Dr. Mooney, I’ll take her back to her room.”

            But Dr. Mooney frowned, looking at you, “Are you okay?”

            “No.” Tears skipped down your cheeks, “I really need you.”

            He took you in for a moment longer before nodding once, “It’s okay, Nurse Carney. I’ll see her back myself.”

            It was obvious that Nurse Carney didn’t agree but she wouldn’t argue.

            Dr. Mooney closed the door behind you as you stepped inside to stand in the middle of his office. Sobs racked your body as you finally broke down.

            “_____, what’s going on?”

            But you couldn’t talk. Not yet. Instead, you broke another protocol.

            You couldn’t think about Rafe’s intrusive words or Albert’s year old gossip. What you needed right then was the only person who had consistently shown care towards you in the last couple months. Spinning around, you hugged Dr. Mooney. You latched your arms together around his back & pressed your face into his chest. You didn’t care about the no contact policy. Because right then you didn’t view yourself as a patient or Dr. Mooney as your care provider. What you needed was the only friend you had in this hell hole.

            Dr. Mooney never returned the hug, but neither removed you. He let you cry against him. And for that you were thankful. However, after a few minutes & you had calmed down, he gently placed his hands on your shoulders & placed some distance between the two of you. He angled his head to meet your bleary eyes.

            “Talk to me.”

            You shook your head, “I can’t do this alone.”

            He frowned but nodded, “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together. I promise.”

            And you knew it to be true. Dr. Mooney would never let you down, & that’s exactly what you needed.

a much longer part to i burn! i wanted to give you all a pretty lengthy update as i won't be able to update either of my rafe series for maybe another week as i will be going on vacation! so, always, please share your thoughts w me via comments, reblogs w reviews, or talking to me in the ask box. i love all the love ya'll send my way!

thank you for reading!

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#dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark!fic #dark!fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #non con fic #dark!outer banks #i burn part six

[buckysimp101]

Everything the Light Touches (18+) - Chapter Sixteen

Mafia!Bucky x F!Reader

chapter warnings: tension (of the semi-sexual variety), lil bit of thigh-riding (flashback), guns (nobody is hurt, it’s just practice, but thought i’d let you know just in case. also, i have no clue what kind of gun they’re using. i just know it’s a pistol)

a/n: hope you’re buckled in bestie boo, this chapter is where we’re gonna start seeing some of those *tensions* rise ;) 

Series Masterlist 

Your heart was pounding in your ears as you took in what Bucky was saying to you. He’d explained briefly the issue that had him running out of the apartment at a ridiculous hour but now he was speaking in hushed tones to Natasha at the door. You sat down on the couch, your ass hitting the cushions hard, as you realized what this meant. It meant that your parents had decided to go to war. To help Pierce. To betray you. A part of you knew you shouldn’t be so surprised to hear the lengths they’d go to for more power, but the thought that they would risk others lives made your stomach curdle. You were withdrawn so deep in your head you didn’t hear the door open and close behind Natasha as she left until you saw Bucky kneel in front of you. You chanced a look at him, almost regretting it as you saw the pain and the anger swimming in his oceanic eyes. Bucky was hurting. 

“Was anybody hurt?” You asked quietly, watching Bucky’s face for a tell of some sort to see if he was lying. His head shook vehemently denouncing the question which managed to lighten your stomach but only a little. 

“I meant what I said, Y/N. I will keep you safe. And if that means giving my life in the process then that’s what I’ll do.” His words were softly spoken, almost whispered as if he was unsure if you should hear them, and while he probably thought that what he was saying would bring about some sort of comfort it did the opposite.

Your whole body shivered at the thought of James Barnes laying down his life for you. You never wanted that. Never in a million years. And while you understood that Bucky is partially the reason you were in this mess now, you weren’t sure how you’d be able to make it if he gave up his life to protect you. But you didn’t have time to express those thoughts. Those feelings of intense doubt, guilt and fear. Because Bucky was reaching out to your hand pulling you up with him as he stood in front of you. Your breathing was labored, borderline panting if you were being honest, uncertainty filling your veins as you stood in front of the man you once loved and awaited his next move.

You were so sure that he was just going to tell you to go to bed and not worry about what was to come, about what had happened. So needless to say, you were pleasantly surprised when Bucky Barnes wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for a hug. Your breathing caught in your chest as his smell assaulted your senses, the scent doing its best to drag you back into a time long past where you knew without a doubt that this man was your forever. You only hesitated slightly before wrapping your arms around his waist in response and leaning your head against his chest. The two of you stood there for what felt like hours but must have only been a few minutes. You managed to look up to find Bucky staring at you, a hesitant look in his eyes before he began to lean down to you.

Your heart stammered and your brain was on fire. IS HE GOING TO KISS US AGAIN!?!? WHAT IS GOING ON!! THERE IS NOBODY HERE TO PROVE IT TO. DANGER! DANGER! ALERT! ALERT! 

But he didn’t do that. Instead he touched his forehead to yours and closed his eyes, seeming to bask quietly in your embrace before softly speaking, “sweetheart, you will never know how sorry I am. For everything. For letting you go. For practically casting you aside. For forcing you into this life. I truly hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me one day though I doubt I will ever deserve your forgiveness. If it takes fighting the rest of my life for you to understand how truly sorry I am, I’ll do it.”

You could feel the movement of his lips at the top of your head as he pressed a kiss to your forehead before giving you one last squeeze and pulling away. You weren’t sure what to say, your words had been robbed from you in those last  moments and you merely stared up at him, your lips parting slightly in awe and slightly in fear of the future. He sighed heavily after looking at you, offered a squeeze to your waist and began leading you to your bedroom. Your heart was racing again, uncertainty filling you once again as he opened the door to your room and motioned for you to go inside. Your steps were hesitant but as you turned around you noticed he was still at your door, on the other side at that. Standing in his hallway Bucky leaned against the doorjamb with his hands tucked in his pockets before speaking again, “get some rest, you need it. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

And then he closed the door.

Bucky was gone.

You were alone. Alone with your thoughts. With your feelings. And with a potion of doubt and fear swirling in your stomach.

So you did the only logical thing.

You slept.

The next morning was busy in the apartment. Steve, Sam and Natasha had all shown up throughout the day to talk with Bucky as they planned their countermoves. You did your best to ignore them and focus on the last minute wedding planning, not wanting to know what they planned to do in retaliation. You finalized flowers over FaceTime, you clarified the time and place for the caterers, and you even managed to sneak in a call to Wanda when you needed a little help decompressing. You didn’t tell her everything. She didn’t need to be made aware of what had happened the night before and she certainly didn’t need to know the little feeling that kept popping up in your stomach whenever your eyes met Bucky’s. Hell, you didn’t even want to admit that a part of you was still attracted to him.

How could anyone not be attracted to James Barnes? When you were younger you stated it was scientifically impossible for someone to be unattracted to him. Maybe past you was right.

You quickly shook that thought out of your head as you heard the fading footsteps of the team walk out the front door. Most of the day had slipped away pretty quickly without you realizing and now Bucky was standing in front of you with his hand reached out, his eyebrow quirked at your unmoving body, signifying that he’d probably been standing there longer than you realized. You felt your cheeks warm as you took his hand and asked, “what’s up? Is everything okay?”

Bucky nodded curtly and responded, “I’m going to take you somewhere. With the threat that Pierce and his men pose we need to make sure you’re prepared. We’re not going to leave the building but there is a place for us to practice, if you’re willing?” He said the last part questioningly, as if to give you an out if you really didn’t want to do this. But you’d had enough of the damsel in distress act that you felt like you were giving off. If anyone was going to keep you safe it was going to be yourself. Tony Stark had taught you that. You nodded in agreement and Bucky took you to the back elevator, scanned a card and pressed a combination of floor numbers that took you down, down, down. 

When the elevator doors opened you noticed you were in a training room of sorts. It had been divided into multiple rooms for different purposes but that was ultimately what this space was. Bucky must have noticed the question in your eyes because he spoke as he led you out. “When my father and I bought this building we had this installed. It’s where we train new recruits, can’t exactly do that at a normal gun range or gym, and it’s nice to have a private space to…practice when you’re not exactly the most loved person in all of Manhattan.” He spoke sheepishly as he averted his gaze and rubbed his neck with his hand. When he led you into a room where the floor was covered in padded mats you noticed him taking his shoes off and walking toward the center of the floor before turning to face you as he crooked his fingers for you to go to him. You followed suit, taking off your shoes and walking towards him as you tied your hair up to get it out of your face.

There was a breath of silence before Bucky spoke again. “So, we’re here today to see what you’ve got. What we can improve on. What we can add to your arsenal of self-defense. I remember many years ago working with you on some things and thought, maybe you remembered some of it.” His ears were turning red and you could tell a part of him was a little embarrassed at the memory he was recalling. You smirked at that. You knew what memory he was recalling. You remembered it very well.

Ten Years Ago

“Okay sweetheart, now if someone grabs you like this,” he said wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you tight against him, practically pulling you into the slow growing erection in his gym shorts, “what do you do?” His words tickled your throat as you squirmed in his arms, knowing the reaction you’d get from him. Bucky groaned in your ear causing you to giggle in return as he pulled you in tighter. “Stop that, you know what it does to me,” he growled causing you to laugh out loud this time.

“Jamie I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you breathed as you leaned your head to look at him, fluttering your lashes flirtatiously, pulling another low growl from his throat as he leaned down to kiss you hard. You reciprocated the kiss as he spun you to face him, slotting his leg into the part between yours that you had unconsciously given him access to. You rolled your body precariously against his legs drawing a moan from both your lips as he squeezed your hips a little tighter. “James Buchanan Barnes this is highly inappropriate, what would society say?” You teased against his lips before a breathy gasp ripped from your lungs as he used his hands to roll your body onto his thigh once more, so closed to where you wanted, no, needed him. You were both a panting mess as you parted, twin smirks on both your lips before you spoke again, “besides, in what world am I going to be attacked by someone grabbing my waist? Aren’t they more likely to like…strangle me or pin my arms or something? This seems like very inefficient training, sir.”

His lips twisted in a larger grin as he pulled you close and leaned down to press a kiss to your lips before growling, “oh I’ll pin your arms, sweetheart.”

You squealed and managed to wiggle your way out of his grasp as you took off across the training room in the basement of the Barnes house to evade your ‘captor.’ You could hear Bucky’s footsteps catching up with you as you attempted to bob and weave but you weren’t fast enough. You never were. He wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you into his arms before effectively pinning your arms to your side and smacking a hard and wet kiss on your lips.

“I love you, Jamie,” you panted into his kiss as he swallowed the words.

“I love you more, my beautiful girl. Always and forever.”

Bucky cleared his throat as his whole face was approximately the same color as a tomato now, he most likely had drifted off into the same memory as you. But before either of you could say anything that would make things more awkward than they were he cleared his throat once more and took a step towards you. Your breath caught before he spoke again, “so. Tell me what you remember or what you’ve learned in self-defense. And we’ll see where to go next. Okay?”

You nodded your head and wracked your brain thinking of all the times that Tony had sent you and Wanda to self-defense classes, or provided them for you himself at the mansion with Pepper. One thing about Tony Stark? He was always prepared. And he wanted to make sure you were as well. A part of you wondered if Bucky was expecting you to use the moves he’d taught you once upon a time, because believe it or not that training session ten years ago had been a little valuable. But you decided to show him something new. You felt the beginnings of a smirk grow on your face as you motioned for Bucky to come towards you.

“Here, stand behind me and wrap your arms around mine. You want to try to capture me, your goal is to immobilize me, okay?”

You noticed something cross his eyes before his own devious smirk grew but he nodded anyways and walked around you slowly, almost menacingly and wrapping his arms around yours holding you in place. He scent almost consumed you yet again but you shook your head and re-focused. You knew what you were going to do. But you were pretty sure Bucky didn’t.

“Okay, so to get out of a hold like this. All I’m going to do…is sing.”

“Wha-“

He didn’t have time to finish his question when you began to move, “solar plexus!” You jabbed him in the gut with your elbow, a surprised grunt coming out of him before you continued, “instep!” You stomped on his foot, causing him to let go of you completely in surprise. You noticed the threads of recognition beginning to form in his surprised eyes but you continued, “nose!” You reached up to try and punch his nose but he was able to calculate the next step and caught your wrist instead, but not before you tried to lift your knee to his groin for the last and final step, causing him to twist away from the line of fire and dropping your hand in the process. You took a step back, grinning from ear to ear as you watched him try to shake off the pain from the solar plexus jab and the instep stomp. Your breathing was a little heavier with adrenaline, his from pain, and that’s when he spoke, albeit a little breathy.

“Miss Congeniality? Really?” He teased but his tone was full of adoration. You merely grinned and shrugged in response.

“Sandy Bullock taught me everything I know.”

A hush fell over the training room, silence engulfing the two of you as you worked to breathe normally again. And then it was full of a deep belly laugh. One that warmed you from the inside out. One that you swore could make the sunshine on the darkest most dreary day. Bucky Barnes’ laugh was like the universal medicine to every ailment. And damn if a part of you didn’t light up at hearing it again.

It was also addictive. And contagious. Because next thing you know the two of you were doubled over in a laughter that was close to becoming hyperventilation. Tears were falling from your eyes as you attempted to recover from the impromptu laugh fest. You both managed to catch your breath but avoided eye contact. You had a history of not being able to take each other seriously after laughing that hard. 

“Okay, what next?” You spoke up first, hoping to get off the mat and maybe even put a little distance in between you and Bucky. He cleared his throat and shifted his weight a little as if he were uneasy about the next step.

“Well, it seems like you’ve had no shortage of hand to hand self-defense lessons in the last decade. But now it’s time to see how you can handle a gun.”

Your body shivered at what he was implying. Without so many words, he’d told you that there could come a time in the not-so-distant future that you’d need to shoot a gun to protect yourself. You merely nodded your head in response and headed off the mat to put your shoes back on and walk towards the gun range you’d seen upon entering the space. There were two targets set up already, awaiting your practice. You focused on your breathing. While you weren’t afraid of using a gun, it had been a very long time, but you weren’t about to tell Bucky that. In fact, a part of you was interested to see how this would go. Interested to see if he knew anything about your time in California other than working for Tony. 

That right there should’ve been a tip. You’d practically been adopted by Tony Stark, his weapons supplier, years ago. While you didn’t know that Tony was the Barnes supplier then you did know how to fire a gun. That was another case of Tony making sure you knew how to defend yourself no matter what. 

Bucky followed you into the range, handing protective ear and eyewear to you as he went to grab the pistol and bullets you’d be using. You were so focused on your breathing that you didn’t feel his presence as he walked up behind you. Your breathing stuttered as you felt Bucky step into your space before reaching around to position the pistol in front of you.

“This is what we’ll be using today. I’ll tell you all the places in the apartment you can find them in case you ever need it. And I always carry one on my person and have one in the car. Nod if you understand.”

You nodded.

He whispered, “good girl.”

You gulped.

He continued. 

“This is how you load it,” he showed you by taking your hand slowly and putting it around his, “make sure the safety is on. Do not turn the safety off until you’re ready.” He spoke right next to your ear and his words were making goosebumps form along your neck and spine. You nodded again. He continued after loading the gun for you. He took one hand off the gun and maneuvered yours so you were holding it, with his clasping around yours to guide you. He continued going slow to teach you the proper way to stand, to hold and when you were ready, he put the protective gear on you and showed you how to pull the trigger. The first time he told you to shoot he stood pressed against your back, taking most of the shock of the recoil with his body practically wrapped around yours.

Your senses were heightened to a level they’d never been before. You could hear every breath he took, feel every swallow, sense every time he ran his tongue over his lips, his nervous habit. After a couple rounds you felt him step back, giving you the chance to do it on your own. You flipped the safety back on before turning slowly to meet his gaze. Bucky was staring at you with what you could only describe as burning hunger blazing in his eyes. You watched him gulp down a deep breath as you made eye contact with him while reloading the gun, not even needing to look at it. You knew what you were doing. And it had nothing to do with what Bucky Barnes had taught you. You walked to the neighboring bay, the whole while maintaining eye contact with Bucky as he licked his lips, the slip of his tongue looked somewhat enticing. NOPE. NO IT DOESN’T. NUH UH GIRLIE. WE ARE NOT DOING THIS TODAY. NO MAAM.

You turned slowly, trying to shake off the burn of his gaze before looking down your new target, getting in position, and unloading the entire gun into the target without hesitation. You admired your work from afar before turning slowly to meet his gaze. You were thrilled with the disbelief in his eyes. His mouth agape and his eyes wide, you turned the safety back on, handed him the gun and walked around to fetch the target sheet. There were a number in the ring just around the bullseye, or what was left of the bullseye. You’d hit it so accurately it didn’t exist anymore. It was completely obliterated You handed the paper to Bucky before taking off your gear and beginning to walk towards the elevator without him.

“Thanks for the lessons, Jamie,” you smirked as you pressed the button for the floor to his penthouse, leaving a shocked Bucky in the gun range with his jaw touching the floor.

taglist:

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#mafia au #mafia fic #mafia!bucky #mafia!bucky x reader #mafia!bucky x yn #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #buckysimp101 #everything the light touches #everything the light touches fic #bucky barnes is a dummy

[double-hoe-seven]

Come here often?

Request: “hiya! may i please request a Richard Montlaur fic where he keeps flirting with their team doctor or physiotherapist of some kind 💘” Pairing: Richard Montlaur x Reader Word Count: 575

“Hey, you’re good with tech, right?” Richard asked as he walked into the treatment room. “I’m decent with it, why?” You ask as you tidy up a few things. “I’m having a problem with my cell.” He says before adding “it seems to be missing your number.” You don’t have to look at him to know he has a big grin on his face. You can hear it in his voice, yet you still turn to face him with a slightly amused smile. “Better than the last one, eh?” He asks proudly. “I’ll rate that pick up line a 7/10.” You tease. “I’ll get to 10, and then I’m taking you on the best date of your life.” He says confidently. “Just remember that your first attempt and picking me up was asking if I came here, the place where I work, often.” You remind him with a grin. Dramatically, he slumps his shoulders, hangs his head and leaves, letting out an even more dramatic sigh as he passed Colin on his way out.

“You’re still making him work for it?” Colin asks as he hops onto the table and lies on his stomach. “I’m still trying to figure out if going out with anyone on the team will endanger my job.” You hum, starting to work on his newest strain. “I don’t-ow-don’t think it’d be that bad. Rebecca likes you, the rest of the guys like you, you do your job.” Colin says. “And if we were to break up?” You question. “When did you become a pessimist?” Colin asks, groaning at the pressure you put on his injury. “I just think you should go for it. He very obviously likes you and you are so bad at hiding how much you like him. He comes in every day with a new pickup line for you to rate and has been for what? A month? Two?” “It’s been about six weeks.” You hum thoughtfully. 

You ran into Richard again the next morning when you both happened to be heading inside at the same time. “Do you come here often?” He asks with a confident grin as he holds the door open for you. “Expecting that to work the second time around, huh?” You ask with a quiet laugh and a grin. “Nope, but I knew it would show me your smile that’s so bright it puts the sunrise to shame.” He says coolly, watching for your reaction. “Fuck me, that was amazing.” You mutter, stopping in your tracks to process it. “So, dinner this weekend?” He asks hopefully. “Friday night?” You ask. “Parfait!” He exclaims excitedly with a bright smile. “I’ll pick you up at 7!” He calls, already running to the locker room to no doubt tell everyone, leaving you there laughing quietly at the adorableness of his excitement. “Well, I’ll be...” Ted says from behind you. He has a big, pleasantly surprised grin on his face. “I really thought I’d be waiting until the cows came home for y’all to end up together and now I get to witness it? I am just tickled pink.” He says happily. “I have questions about some of what you just said, Ted.” You say with a chuckle. “Cows are slow and take forever to do anything. As for the tickled pink, that one’s easy: when you get tickled, you laugh so hard you turn pink.” He says. “Did that answer the questions?” “It did, actually, thank you.” You hum. “So, am I gonna get an invitation to this wedding?” Ted jokes.

@bdffkierenwalker @anarchistbeauty @tsundere-cherry-girl​ @qquell​

#Richard Montlaur #Richard Montlaur Fic #Richard Montlaur x Reader #Ted Lasso

[visualsandvoices]

Ok idk if anyone said this re: Greta gerwig’s narnia on here already I only pop in from time to time…

But it seems like Liam Neeson will return to voice Aslan and Tilda Swinton is set to return as the White Witch?

There was also a comment in an interview saying it won’t change people’s conception of narnia, but just make it bigger (I think that was the phrasing, or close to it).

So I’m cautiously optimistic. That makes it sound like they want to get the audience on familiar territory — hopefully it lands! To use the same actors and then depart to dramatically from the 2005 version would be pretty jarring, so maybe they want to recreate that movie relatively closely as a launchpad for the rest of the series? But they still gotta make it their own which makes me nervous lol

Netflix handled the Shadow and Bone adaptation pretty well so maybe I’ll be pleasantly surprised 😬

The only thing is that Greta Gerwig seems emphasize messaging and themes in equal measure as plot. Little Women deals prominently with marriage, expectations of womanhood, wealth/class, etc. Barbie is theme over plot, I’d almost say, given the virality of America Ferrera’s speech, I’m Kenough, and the overall impression of Barbie having an awakening to being a human woman or whatever. I haven’t seen it so maybe there’s plot I’m missing but that seems to be the idea.

This kinda thing doesn’t work for narnia, imo. I don’t want to hear Susan give a speech about womanhood in the war era, or some remark on femininity, firstly because it’s so overdone in movies these days but also bc if you’re going to put any theme/motif/messaging on equal footing to Narnia’s plot it should be faith.

I’m not saying Christianity has to slap you in the face. The Disney adaptations handled it well I think. It was there without the movie overdoing it, and there wasn’t any sort of moral or speech or sound bite to sell to the audience otherwise. It was a fantasy movie.

Susan would make an easy target, and I really hope Gerwig doesn’t fall into the “lipstick and nylons” trap everyone argues about. First of all it should hardly be foregrounded bc it doesn’t really become an issue until after she’s left narnia in which case she’s offscreen. The Last Battle maybe, but again it’s brief. My two cents on it though are that I always took it to be her grief for not being able to return to narnia forced her to try to move on, and maybe the resentment over her loss broke her faith. She’s still a character to sympathize with. People say Lewis couldn’t get past her being female and hence the lipstick and nylons but I think that’s a bad read. She was a queen, an adult woman, and cerebrally mature only to return a boarding school student. Of course she didn’t return to her dolls. I also think that it happened because she’s so logical and calculated and careful (neither good nor bad as a trait on its own) that loosing something she loved only augmented her original doubts and made her stubborn. So again it’s not about womanhood nylons and lipstick, it’s grief and sort of an internal self-defence kinda thing. If Gerwig were to explore anything with Susan as she’s older I would say doubt and logic versus faith and responsibility would both be true to the character and far more original/interesting for audiences.

I would love to see how they handle The Horse and his Boy, the Golden Age and how the kings and queens earn their titles (just, gentle, valiant, magnificent). I would love to see a Jill Pole who is allowed to cry, to be a scared school child, and also brave and stoic and thrust into an underground world on a rescue mission. I will be fascinated to see their concept for The Last Battle, because again it’s very much so a Christian story.

So I really do hope Netflix allows the series to live past the first 3, so we get new material. Caspian and Dawn Treader are gonna be a test for Gerwig’s strengths before she’s allowed into fresh territory with the other books.

I just think that if you’re intending to strip it of the intention behind the story — lost faith, found faith, tested faith, resilience, trust, redemption, all through a Christian lens, then maybe don’t adapt it at all. I’m not saying you have to make Christianity so foregrounded it feels like a sermon, but you cannot have narnia without that being the lens through which the world is understood. They aren’t separable things.

AND going back to the casting hopefully it’s not Timothy chalamet / Saoirse Ronan / Florence Pugh. As much as they’re great actors, I think for narnia as a reboot to land, they need a bunch of unknown, fresh faces and actual kids not people in their twenties/thirties. Even as a background narnia cameo it would honestly be distracting.

#narnia #greta gerwig narnia #netflix narnia #the chronicles of narnia #the problem of susan #c s lewis #greta gerwig #tcon #barbie #barbie movie #little women

[thequeenofthewinter]

Hello!

Writing questions for you :D What are some themes you tend to tackle in your stories? Do you think they heavily make up the bulk of your voice/style as a writer? How clear do you envision your characters' voices (both as dialogue and inner thoughts etc) when you write? Do you differentiate between them with different turns of phrase, or idioms or things of that nature? And are you more of a discovery writer or do you plan ahead and follow an outline?

Thank you for the thought-provoking questions, Mareena. <3

Ooof, well, that’s an interesting question. I think, speaking in a very general sense, that some of the things that I am tackling are an exploration of human emotions, relationships, and interactions. I don’t want to make things seem like they’re much “deeper” than they are. (It’s a fic.) But, I would hope that readers can see some of those topics shine through because I like to write them and I have had a great time doing it. There are also some themes of light and darkness and perhaps “not everything is what it seems”. Life is messy, dude.

I would say that it does make up a bulk of my voice/style as a writer because I do tend to like to write these big, sweeping emotions. (And, let’s be honest. I love a nice touch of drama here and there.) ;)

Definitely. I have a very clear picture of what they are and are not even if they are not sure of it themselves. I like a good dialogue and I love a good bout of inner thoughts. For example, I’d say Dahlia is more playful and extroverted, but in a different way than my Lydia is. Lydia is very sassy and snarky at times and she isn’t afraid of stepping on a few toes. On the other hand, Dahlia is more cautious and thinks more about how what she says affects others. (At least most times.) 

There is not a doubt in my mind that I am more of a discovery writer (for better or worse). I kind of like to see where my characters take me and what they will do. It’s been a very interesting experience, and I have been pleasantly surprised along the way. With that being said, I am not a total pantser. I do plan a basic outline of events which will happen; and when I am working on a particular chapter, I’ll think about “okay, how would Dahlia get from A to B”. However, I like to let my characters take me there.

#winter answers asks #winter talks writing #on writing #fanfiction writing

[timidloner]

Hey! It’s fangirl back again, not dead from work yet. And I hope you’ve been getting some rest and staying hydrated! So, the whole thing going on between Moon and Sun keeps playing in my mind. I know we’ll get answers throughout the story. And it would be an endless cycle of Sun taking Moon’s creations for their own and Moon destroying Sun’s creation or converting them, if Moon didn’t already do something about Sun seeing that he’s missing in action. It’s like a constant conflict of choice between the two. I doubt that they will ever reach a compromise or anything. And I think in an old post, you mentioned something about that hinting at Sun’s chance to even try to do it again. And I got the magic and souls thing, which makes sense now, never really thought of a context like that.

Now that that thought is out, I love the other options rambling gave for MC planning to kill Joren. I’d love to see a good mindbreak option as a result for trying to kill him (both the “happy” and “blank-eyed”). Ahem, now as my hidden demons have awakened, I remembered about being able to fuck Joren in his *cough* monster form *cough*. How would one persuade him to do that? Considering he’s a towering murdering machine in that form. And I remember something about MC being able to change physically too 👀.

Hey!! Nice to see you again! I think it's time for me to give you a special tag!!

I've been well, today I had a particularly nice breakfast. And I hope work treats you better this week!

You've been solving the puzzle very well. These siblings will never reach a compromise, they're too far gone for that. Someone has to win this conflict or they'll be forever stuck on a cycle of destruction, that's Moon final goal, not winning a battle, but the war.

And Sun is alive, but things are complicated for him!!

Did you translate my post? Aww, I'm actually super happy that you like my story enough to do that :((!!! And if you didn't, that line I just wrote will be a bit embarrassing, haha!

Sometimes crazy ideas come to me, I just mix them together and I get my lore! I left that post in Spanish since I wanted to keep it a secret from the majority of my followers, kinda like an open secret.

And yes! MC will change but only on certain endings.

Also...

Haha! Sorry! And yes, Ram writes great ideas, the mindbreak ending wasn't something I'd have thought about, even if I'm into it!

And about your inner demons (hehe)...

Joren expects MC to freak out when they see him in his monster form for the first time, he considers that moment like a trial of fire. If MC can accept him after that, then he has won.

I don't think anyone in their right mind could act nonchalant after seeing something like that, and while you'll choose how MC feels about it, I plan to make it a bit realistic. It will take MC three or four interactions (more off screen) with Joren in his monster form (cuddle scenes, scratching his belly/ears, maybe even riding him??) before they become used to it.

After that, you'll get the option to push it further.

It's not like Joren will be against it, he simply would never have thought about it! This is because:

The last time he had sex was when he still "worked" for that noble family, and he was fully human at that time.

He just wants MC to accept that side of him, desiring him while in that form seems to be asking too much.

If MC expresses any interest in that, he's going to be really pleasantly surprised! And I have various ways planned on how this can happen:

MC asks directly to do it.

MC just... starts touching him (monster) without even talking about it beforehand (lmao, now the victim of dubcon is Joren).

MC asks him if he has ever done it while in his monster form, they can be direct or shy.

During one of those cuddle scenes, MC starts getting horny, and since Joren (monster) already knows when they are turned on by now, he'll test the water.

The first scene won't have penetration, though. That's something will have to train themselves for with the help of Joren (human), and with a lot of phallic objects, haha

I realized too late that we can't have Joren fucking MC with his monster tongue, that would be torture since we're talking about a rough cat tongue!! And I'm too attached to the werejaguar concept to change it.

I'm also giving him a weird monster cock (only in his monster form, the man has a normal dick) since felines don't have knots and I'm not into barbed dicks. I haven't decided yet how it will look, though.

#ask away! #from lon to you #fangirl✨!! #lore funfacts #spicy ask #should i just ignore my common sense and give him a knot anyway #for the sake of the erotica??? #ill see #gotta consult this with the Kylo poster

[spaceorphanssecondbreakfastclub]

SO's US Book Tour : Arkansas

True Grit

By Charles Portis

I have never read a Western.  I haven’t ever wanted to read a Western.  But when flipping through the list of books for Arkansas - I tripped over True Grit and thought, why not, I’m branching out.  After struggling to get through The Monkey Wrench Gang, I worried that I was going to find it difficult to get through.  Turns out that was not the case! I was pleasantly surprised at the ease in which I got through this one.  It is a good story.  It’s not my favorite, nor will I probably ever pick up another Western, but I enjoyed it much more than I thought I’d might.  

This might be the simplest book I’ve read so far, which is fine.  A book doesn’t need to be overly complicated to be enjoyable, and I think it works in the book’s favor to be a straightforward adventure-slash-revenge story.  

Written in the late 1960s but set in the 1870s, the narrative is that of an older Mattie Ross recalling about how when she was 14-years-old her father was murdered by a hired hand - Tom Chaney - and how she set about bringing him to justice by hiring a US Marshall by the name of Rooster Cogburn.  And that’s really it - the book, like the narrator, is pretty focused on that plot.  

Honestly, when I first started reading, I was a little skeptical of a grown man writing from the perspective of a fourteen year old girl.  And, admittedly, Mattie Ross doesn’t really sound like a girl her age - 19th century or otherwise.  But I think it actually works in the novel’s favor.  I really appreciated Mattie’s focused drive and her shrewd observations.  She isn’t one to mess around.  She isn’t one to get caught up in overly emotional sentimentality.  Her world is harsh - but she still tells it like it is.  Sometimes, it is to comic effect - having deadpan reflection of rather obscene human nature is pretty funny at times.  But the ‘true grit’ the novel’s title refers to is really Mattie - and her unwavering pursuit to bring justice to her father’s murderer.  

It’s funny - all through the novel, Mattie tells everyone she meets that her one goal is to take down Tom Chaney for the murder of her father.  It becomes a mantra, and becomes strikingly similar to Inigo Montoya from The Princess Bride, who repeats his revenge mantra to anyone he meets.  In fact, the characters are similar in design when you bring them down to a base level.  

Anyway -- while I doubt it’s that realistic that a fourteen year old during the 1870s would get away with as much as Mattie does, I like her as a character -- much more than I thought I’d might. 

The other major character is Rooster Cogburn, a washed out, gritty old US Marshal - who has a lot of baggage carried around from his colorful past.  Part of the charm of the novel comes from the unlikely pairing between Cogburn and Mattie, which never really dissolves into a found father/daughter trope, which again, is a nice change of pace.  Cogburn, begrudgingly, ends up respecting Mattie in the end, and they bond in the way people on adventure do, but it always is billed as a temporary alliance -- one that Mattie appreciates from the lens of an adult, but never grows beyond the mission they set out to accomplish.  

The first half of the book details Mattie searching out Cogburn.  I never really thought of Arkansas as being a part of the old west, but the backdrop works really well -- Arkansas being on the edge of the frontier.  It kind of reminded me (due to my limited engagement with the time period and location) of those frontier towns you start in at the beginning of the old computer game Oregon Trail - where you get your goods and stuff before setting out across the west to get to the Pacific coast.  The second half of the book details going out into ‘Indian Territory’ - the unclaimed wilderness on the Arkansas/Oklahoma border - where, really, there are no laws and anything can happen.  

They’re joined by a Texas Ranger named LaBoeuf, who is out to get Chaney for killing a Texas senator.  Of course, LaBoeuf and Cogborn don’t get along - and LaBoeuf isn’t really thrilled that Mattie is tagging along to bring Chaney down.  But he becomes instrumental in tracking down the gang of thieves Chaney is hanging out with.  

Tom Chaney, himself, isn’t really in the novel that much - and to be honest, he’s kind of flatly dumb and villianous.  There are much livelier characters even within the gang of ‘bad guys’ that Chaney is hanging around, that the confrontation seems, well, a little anticlimactic if I’m being honest.  But the purpose of the novel is less about the destination and more about the journey into the wilderness, and the resolve of Mattie, Cogburn, and LaBoeuf at bringing the outlaw in.  

One of the aspects of the novel that I did find fascinating is the detail of the worldbuilding.  The novel makes reference to the American Civil War, and to the politics of the 1870s.  There are references to how life is different in Arkansas, to Texas, to the East Coast.  I don’t know much about Charles Portis - but I have to believe he’s fairly knowledgeable about the time period he’s writing about.  Not only is he able to drop these references to the time authentically, the novel itself feels like it was written back in the 19th century.  In some ways - it reminds me of all those classic stories we had to read in school that documented and showcased life during a specific era.  

I believe this is one of those novels that is considered a modern classic - and I can see why.  I liked it well enough for what it was (though I doubt I’ll ever feel like going back to this world) and can understand its popularity - especially to those who enjoy stories set during this time period.  While it may not be for everyone, it very clearly is a Western, I’d definitely recommend it - and am glad I picked it up. 

#so's us book tour #true grit #charles portis #books #book reviews #arkansas #westerns

[theselfdoubtdiaries]

August 10

Dear Zoe, time has gotten away from me and the last month feels like a blur! I have just sat down and had a big writing session with myself and as always, this helps.

Helps me get clear on where to from here (cuts through the brainfog a bit) but also I think it helps me see where I’ve been – to reflect on what has transpired. The ups and downs along the way that I just tend to minimise cos this creative life of ours is so deadline driven that it’s easy to simply tick things off and move on…..without appreciating the time, work and effort (emotional and otherwise) that has gone into getting those things done...

The PIN show opened last night at ANCA. I was filled with last minute doubt about the pieces I’d supplied yesterday….but I guess if they hadn’t wanted them they wouldn’t have selected them….It’s the usual jitters about showing one’s work I suppose? Even though I had downplayed this as a small event ...it’s still about putting your work out there isnt it? So in the end I’m glad I attended the opening and am ok with the works I supplied and I was pleasantly surprised at the install as I hadn’t expect much :) So that was a bonus

But the other thing that has happened and this is a biggie regarding the upcoming Botanical exhibition: In the last 4 weeks I was dumped unceremoniously by my collaborator…..(at least that’s how I felt…) And it threw me into a spin- I was in the middle of making for it...I had just bisque fired a bunch of pieces….and then I felt lost. Talk about sparking feelings of doubt! The lack of communication was the thing that upset me the most – and I still don’t really understand what happened. I know what he said – but????? Anyway, I now have a new collaborator and we have worked out a plan to use some existing works. I didn’t feel ok about just asking someone new to respond to the very abstract and difficult pieces I had developed with the first artist….so they are now just sitting in a box. On the plus side, I now have a body of work ready to go…..! And it’s work I am excited about. Maybe I’ll try and get some finished before we go away. Possibly for some of the members’ shows coming up? We'll see.....

But Zoe, I can’t write a post without commenting on your last one. So much has happened since then for us both. You made a breakthrough with those experiments and I loved seeing them when you last visited. I’m so glad that the photoshoot we had with Mel before you left helped us to get focused a bit more on how our show next year might end up looking. We will be ok…..

Talking about grief: it never really goes away. I still miss my Mum. But it’s bearable – it’s nice to think of her, make her recipes, exchange stories. It keeps her with us still. Last week when I went to my uncle’s funeral in Melbourne (her eldest brother), I was thinking of her heaps. But reconnecting with my cousins and the other Aunties and Uncles was SO good. I can’t believe I almost didn’t go….It’s just so important to be part of that process and to feel supported and held in the shared memories. We all need it. …… I am thinking of you now and sending love. I know that the concept of grief has new meaning for you at the moment...and you will talk about that when you are ready. In the meantime, know that you are not alone.

#selfdoubt #artlife #creative process #art practice

[thatonegeekygirl]

do you guys want to see the good omens/foundation crossover i wrote for school? of course you do!!

“So,” Seldon said awkwardly, clasping his hands behind his back. “how’s your day been?” The man standing beside him turned his head. He wore a creamy coloured suit, brown checkered bow tie, and brown slacks, and made Seldon’s slick dark suit seem obtusely formal in comparison. His hair was white without being aged, and his face was neatly shaved and held wrinkles suggesting it often bore a cheerful smile. He was round though not heavyset, and a bit short. He held a kind of amiable and warm air about him that made Seldon feel as though at any moment he would pull out a kettle from his sleeve, and ask him how he liked his tea. 

The man smiled pleasantly. “Oh, you know how it is. Although, then again, I suppose you don’t.” He chuckled softly to himself, as if he were sharing a joke with an absent friend. “How about you, dear fellow?” Seldon nodded slowly. “Fine, fine, Mister…” “A.Z Fell!” The man held out a hand. “But you can just call me Aziraphale.”

They shook, and Seldon absentmindedly chose to avoid pointing out the fact that both names sounded nearly entirely alike.

“Seldon,” Seldon said. “Hari Seldon. You can call me Hari, or Seldon, or Hari Seldon, just for the love of Trantor don’t call me doctor.”

“Good to meet you, Hari, ” Aziraphale said with a smile. “I’ll refrain from calling you Doctor, of course, but if I may ask why do you have such an aversion to being referred to with your well-earned title?”

“It just doesn’t rub me the right way. I doubt I could explain it if I tried,” Seldon explained, shoving his hands into his pockets. “And I don’t mind being asked in the slightest. Afterall–” he gestured to the flashing panic button amongst the elevator's keypad. “--we may very well be stuck here a while.”

“Indeed we may.” Aziraphale checked his relic of a golden pocket watch. “It’s been nearly ten minutes already. Well, anyway, if we’re here for the foreseeable future, we may as well get to know one another. What do you do for a living, Hari?”

“I’m a mathematician,” Hair replied, expression darkening. “Although I often wish I wasn’t.”

“Whyever not?” Aziraphale asked, surprised. “It is my understanding that mathematics is a respectable and sought-after profession among humans.”

“Well, I suppose I don’t wish I wasn’t a mathematician. Rather that I hadn’t come up with one specific concept. If I’d just avoided straying from my studies on aerodynamics, if I’d never noticed the correlation between them and humanity, I would never have gotten into this mess in the first place!”

“What sort of mess?”

“The uncomfortable kind. You see, I developed a theory–and a theory it is only–that one could predict the statistical likelihood of future events through a combination of mathematical formulas and historical parallels. I called it psychohistory.” He sighed tiredly. “And in one trip from Helicon to Trantor I suddenly find myself mixed up in an arms race for the fate of the galaxy. Hummin seems to think I’ll come up with some grand ‘eureka!’ moment and discover the way to turn it from mere postulation to a practical reality. So far, though, I’ve got nothing greater than a few faint gut feelings. Not nearly enough substance to bet humanity’s future on.”

“Is Helicon your home planet?” Aziraphale asked mildly.

Grateful for the change in conversation, Seldon said, “Indeed it is. I don’t blame you if you’ve never heard of it. Trantorians who do are few and far between.”

“As a matter of fact, I have heard of it,” Aziraphale interjected genially, “although I can't claim I’m an educated Trantorian since I’m not one at all. It’s a small planet in the Arcturus sector, if I’m not mistaken. Quite well known among nearby worlds for its martial artists. You don’t happen to be one, do you? I’ve always wanted to meet a twister!”

“I’ve dabbled,” Seldon replied, surprised but delighted. “But wait, you're not from Trantor?”

“I am many things, but I am not Trantorian,” Aziraphale confirmed. 

“Where do you hail from, then?” Seldon inquired, curious.

“Oh, well…” Aziraphale waved a hand vaguely. “Around.”

Feeling as though he’d hit a nerve of some sort, Seldon fell silent, contemplating the odd man beside him and their conversation thus far. Aziraphale seemed unlike any person he’d met before, and Seldon had met plenty of peculiar personalities and cultures in his recent Hummin-induced travels. Perhaps it was simply that Aziraphale seemed far too nice. No human he’d had the pleasure of speaking to had been quite so genuinely good natured…In fact, now that he thought about it…

He turned his head subtly to look at Aziraphale. The man was now humming quietly to himself, some jaunty tune Seldon didn’t recognize, and swaying slightly back and forth. There didn’t seem to be any part of him that didn’t exude kind intentions and jovial mood. Even his outdated milk chocolate shoes declared their owner one of goodness. And he had said…

Seldon abruptly turned to face Aziraphale. “You’re not human at all, are you?” Aziraphale startled, and Seldon feared he’d crossed a line. Then, to his relief, Aziraphale ran a hand through his hair and smiled sheepishly. “No, Hari, I must admit I’m not. Should’ve known a lad as sharp as you would figure it out. Crowley’s always telling me not to chat with humans, but I just can’t help it! And you’re such a pleasant one too.”

“Well, what in the Emperor’s name are you then?” Seldon asked intently, resisting the urge to edge closer in examination. “Wait! Are you a robot? Is this Crowley a robot too?”

“No, no,” Aziraphale chuckled, “nothing like that, although I am sorry to disappoint. I’m an angel.”

“An…angel?” Seldon tilted his head.

“Oh, that’s right. I keep forgetting how long it’s been since humanity still believed in story tales...just think of me as a supernatural galactic supervisor,” Aziraphale clarified.

“Dors has told me about beings like you…” Seldon breathed in wonder. “She studies history, you know, and she’s quite good at it. But I never believed such things could be real! This changes…everything!” “I’m afraid, dear fellow, that you won’t remember enough of me to change much at all,” Aziraphale said apologetically. 

“What do you mean?” Seldon asked. 

“I truly am sorry, but Heaven doesn’t allow humans to go around declaring that entities like me exist. It tends to skew events a bit. The moment we step out of this elevator, you’ll believe you’ve been standing here alone this whole time. No worse for wear, either than a slight headache. It rarely happens anyway since few angels wish to spend any time speaking with humans at all. They don’t have much respect for mortals in general. It’s a shame, really,” Aziraphale mused wistfully, “I believe humans could teach us a great deal.”

The panic button suddenly emitted a chee note and blinked from a harsh red to a cheery blue.

“It seems as though they’ve managed to repair the mechanism,” Aziraphale said with a hesitant smile, as the elevator was gradually set into motion. “It’s been a refreshing conversation, my friend.” He held out his hand once more.

“And an enlightening one for me,” Seldon said as he took it, then continued somewhat desperately. “I really won’t remember this at all?”

“Perhaps a faint spark of emotion,” Aziraphale admitted, “if you’re lucky.”

“Then please,” Seldon said, “tell me. Am I doomed to search in vain for answers? Or is Hummin right? Do I find out how to use psychohistory for good?”

Aziraphale smiled, cupped a hand beside Seldon’s ear, and whispered his answer.

Then the elevator dinged and the doors opened.

Hari Seldon strode out of the elevator, grateful to be out in an open, bustling space after being enclosed in the tight chamber alone for so long. Checking the time on his watch, he glanced about in search of Dors, who’d told him to meet outside the elevators nearly fifteen minutes before the current time.

“Hari!” A familiar voice called. 

He spun around and a grin split his face. “Dors!” “What took you so long?” She asked, trying to be stern but unable to resist smiling back.

“The elevator broke down, believe it or not. Luckily they repaired it in somewhat short order. It was probably just an error in the programming, it happens from time to time when systems age,” Seldon explained. “Where are we off to now?” His stomach growled, and he smiled abashedly at Dors’ light laughter.

“I suppose we should get something to eat first,” she replied. She gestured to the right of the long hallway. “I know a place nearby that makes at least somewhat palatable food.” Dors began leading the way amongst the throng of people, and Seldon moved to follow,  but then paused as his eyes caught those of a man with creamy white hair. The man smiled knowingly at him, nodded once, and disappeared into the crowd. Seldon stared at the spot where he’d vanished.

“Hari? Hari!” Seldon snapped back to reality.

“What’s the matter? Do you see one of the Emperor’s men?” Dors asked, worried and alert.

“No, no…” Seldon said absently, “just…saw someone that reminded me of something I can’t quite remember…” “Perhaps it was just deja vu,” Dors suggested, “come on, a full stomach will surely help with whatever it is that's got you on edge.” Seldon nodded slowly and they once again began their walk to the restaurant.

“Did spending time alone in a broken elevator give you any time to contemplate psychohistory? Hummin is beginning to worry you won’t manage to come up with anything before the Emperor gets a hold of you,” Dors questioned.

“No, surprisingly not…” Seldon replied, glancing once more in the direction where the white-haired stranger had vanished. “But for some reason I find myself sure that everything will turn out fine.”

#THE FOUNDATION BOOKS NOT THE SHOW #good omens show and book they're both wonderful :) #fanfic #prelude to foundation #good omens #good omens show #good omens fanfic #foundation fanfic #foundation trilogy #isaac asimov #neil gaiman #terry pratchett #creative writing

[leossmoonn]

Accidentally in Love | Chpt. 9

masterlist | chpt. 8

pairing - james potter x fem!reader

type - fluff, angst

summary - you and james start a fake relationship to make your crush’s jealous, but what happens if you two start falling for each other?

warnings / includes - mild language, fake dating trope, teasing, kissing, food and alcohol consumption, changes povs often!

————

*gif isn’t mine*

“It wasn’t meant to end up like this, you know?”

“And how was this meant to end up? Didn’t you both get what you wanted? Both of your crushes like you two, even though yours is practically a psychopath,” Remus snorted.

Y/n chuckled, nodding in agreement. “I honestly didn’t see that one coming.”

“Most people don’t,” Remus sighed.

“I just…” Y/n sighed. She rested her head against the bed frame. “I didn’t think I’d actually feel this way about him. It was an innocent plan meant to help both of us. It seemed so simple when we talked about it, but now it’s just turned into this big mess.”

“How do you feel about him exactly?” Remus asked.

Y/n looked down at her hands, beginning to fiddle with a lose string on her sweater. “I… I wouldn’t call it love, but it’s more than friendship. He makes me… honestly, he pisses me off. He’s such an idiot, and he’s always making these horrible jokes! Like, he made a dad joke about cheese. What kind of 17 year old does that?” A smile gradually lit up her face as she began to talk about James more.

“He’s very smart, though. I was pleasantly surprised to hear he was mostly O’s. Oh, and he’s so cute. I love it when he smiles and when he laughs. He’s always so cheerful, and it’s contagious. I love that about him. I always know I’m going to be in a good mood when he’s around.”

“Yep, he’s great company,” Remus agreed.

Y/n let out a little sigh, still smiling from ear to ear. “He makes me feel safe, too. You don’t know this about me, but I’m a little bit of a pessimist. I have commitment issues and I’m not always the best at believing in good things. But James just makes me throw all of that out the window. With him I feel free and I feel happy and… hopeful. I can imagine a future with him, honestly. When I think about us, I don’t even have a single doubt in my mind. Well, not one that involves Lily, anyways.”

Remus put his hand on her forearm. Her eyes snapped up to his.

“He doesn’t like Lily, Y/n.”

Y/n scoffed, “bullshit. You know, you’re a really bad liar, Remus.”

“I’m serious,” Remus frowned. “So am I. I was so stupid to think he would like me. And I was even more stupid to fall for him. I’ve always tried to keep my guard up, but something about him makes me put it down so fast,” she said.

“Do you really think James would have went through the trouble to ask who your favorite musicians are, bend the Hogwarts rules and getting them to deliver the cassettes to you. He also bought a necklace from him because he wanted you to wear something that was exclusively from him.”

Y/n chuckled, “yeah, true. I still can’t believe he spent that much money on me.”

“Yeah, he used almost all of his chore money.”

Y/n went quiet for a few moments, pursing her lips in thought. “You think he likes me, then?”

Remus smiled and nodded. “I think he loves you.”

Her eyes widened and heat fanned over her face. “Oh, man. Love?”

“James feels a lot. He’s the most emotional man I know, besides Sirius,” Remus smirked. “Admittedly, James does like a lot of girls. He finds people attractive, but it’s rare that he actually falls in love.”

“And what about Lily?”

“I’m going to be frank with you.” Remus straightened up and positioned himself to where he was sitting across from her, looking her in the eyes. “I think he did fancy Lily at first. I mean, it was so evident. But as time passed, the chase got more exciting. I think that if it weren’t for Lily always teasing him and then pulling away, he would have stopped liking her beginning of third year. He got so immersed in the game, he turned it into a fantasy, therefore calling it love.”

Y/n raised her brows. “Seriously? Does… Does James think the same way?”

“Honestly, I don’t think James is that smart to realize it. Not yet, at least. But I do know that right now he is with Lily, plotting some dumb plan to make you jealous.”

“Oh, right. He’s with her.”

“But I can confidentially say it’s not because he wants to be.”

Y/n let out a big and long sigh. Her brain scrambled with what to do. What if Remus was wrong and James actually did love Lily for real? As much as Y/n wanted to believe Remus, the little voice in the back of her head held her back.

“You need to tell him how to feel, Y/n,” Remus stated.

“I’m not really good at that.”

“Well, then you need to be.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“But what if I’m right.”

“I suppose there could be a chance of that.”

“Look, Y/n,” Remus began. “I didn’t like you at first, I’ll be honest.”

Y/n gasped, making her eyes wide and her jaw dropped. “Really? I never noticed! Man, you are so good at hiding your distate for people!”

His face turned red and he looked down shyly. “So you did know?”

“Yep. I could feel you wanting to strangle me every time you looked at me,” she smirked. “Okay, I wasn’t fond of you. That doesn’t mean I wanted to kill you,” he rolled his eyes.

“Same different,” she grinned. “Anyways, continue.”

“Thank you,” he chuckled. “Although I didn’t like you then, I like you now. I just wasn’t sure about you, you know? This girl who I had never heard of taking advantage of the sweet and innocent James Potter? It seemed like a disaster waiting to happen.”

“And it did turn into a disaster. Good job for being right,” she sighed.

He held his finger up to her face. “Let me finish, okay? Although it did seem like a disaster waiting to happen and it did turn into a disaster, I’m actually glad you two met. The way you talk about him, and even in the way you look at him, I can tell you really care about him. And he really cares about you, too. I think you two are a great couple. You are opposites, but you balance each other out. He makes you better and you make him better.”

Y/n blinked rapidly and tears began to fall down her cheeks. Remus’s eyes widened and he began to panic.

“I-I’m so sorry. Is that not what you wanted to hear? It’s all the truth, you know. I swear, I’m not a liar. Not when it comes to these things.”

She shook her head, wiping her nose and eyes with the back of her hand. “No, no. It’s not that. It’s just, um, thank you. Thank you so much, Remus. It really means a lot. You’re one of James’s best friends and hearing you say that you think we are good together, it just… it means a lot.”

Remus smiled softly, taking her hand into his. “Well, I hope you’ll be even more happy to hear that Sirius likes you, too. From the moment he heard another the fake dating plan, he’s been rooting for you, too.”

“It’s funny, you know,” she stated. “Pandora is just like Sirius. Granted, they don’t know we are faking dating, but she’s always been so supportive. And Alice is just like you. Very protective and sometimes overbearing, but she means well. Just like you mean well.”

“Alice sounds like a great friend. So does Pandora. It’s great that you have support on both sides.”

She grinned, “yeah, I’m so thankful for them. And I know James is thankful for you two. He talks about you guys all the time.”

“Good to know,” he smiled. “Y/n, you need to tell James how you feel right now.”

She nodded in agreement. “Alright. Okay. You sure your hand will be okay?” She gestured to his knuckles that had ice on them.

“Yep. I’ll be just fine. Now go and save James from his own stupidity, please.”

Y/n giggled and got up off the bed, leaning over and giving Remus a hug. “I’ll have him back in tip-top shape, I promise.”

“I know you will. Good luck!”

She gave him one last smile before leaving the infirmary.

————

“And she’s with Otto. That… that asshole,” James clenched his jaw.

“I’m sure she doesn’t mean any harm, James,” Lily frowned. “I mean, you liked me and you’re hanging out with me, too.”

“Yeah, but…” James bit his lip, nausea bubbling up in his stomach. “It’s just… different.”

“How so?” Lily asked. “Well, I’m… I’m not sure if she doesn’t like him any more,” he said.

“James, I don’t think she likes him anymore. She so obviously likes you.”

“I don’t know. I saw them talking earlier and she looked really happy,” James frowned. “She’s a kind person. I’m sure she was just being friendly.” Lily put her hand on his hand, trying to comfort him.

James sighed and groaned, running his hands over his face. “I’m such a prick.”

Lily frowned, “you’re not, James.”

“Yes, I am. I’m a prick who is an idiot who is a dumbass.”

“James, why do you say that?”

“Because… well… it’s hard to explain.” He began to play with her sleeve, twirling his finger around a loose string.

“If it makes you feel any better, you can talk to me. I won’t judge you or anything.”

James bit his lip, his heart pounding as he thought about telling her the truth. Telling Lily about the plan would change everything, and James wasn’t sure if he wanted that. But then again, how much worse could it get?

“Y/n and I aren’t dating,” he started out. Lily furrowed her brows. “I know things have been rough, but I’m not sure if you can really call it quits yet. Have you two talked.”

He shook his head. “No, we aren’t dating. We never were. It was all a plan to make the people we like jealous.”

Lily’s eyes grew wide and her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah,” he admitted sheepishly. “Y/n liked Otto at the time and I liked you, but I don’t like you anymore. I haven’t for a while. I like Y/n a lot. I-I think I love her. I know it sounds crazy, but even though her and I were fake-dating, everything still felt real. The dates, hand-holding, the kissing. I look into her eyes and… and I feel complete. I just feel so safe with her and I’m always so happy to see her. I can’t get her out of my head. She’s the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning, and I see her in my dreams.” He let out a big sigh, slouching into the couch. “But now I’ve ruined it all.”

Lily sighed, shaking her head in disbelief. “James, you’re right, you are an idiot.”

James frowned, “I know, but —”

“Let me finish,” she said. “But you are a kind and cashing idiot. You haven’t ruined anything, James.”

“Yes, I have.”

“No. You don’t know that she likes Otto. You don’t know if she’s with him right this second. Not until you go and find her and tell her exactly what you just told me.”

“And what if she doesn’t feel the same?”

“Then at least you put your heart out there and there’s no shame in that. The worst thing she’ll do is not feel the same way back. You two weren’t dating anyways. But something tells me she will feel the same way.”

James nodded slowly. “Maybe I will go and tell her.”

“No,” Lily said, “not maybe. You will go tell her now.”

“Alright, alright. I don’t know where she is, though.”

“You’re really going to let that stop you?”

“I’m just nervous.”

Lily sat up and held his hands in hers. She looked into his brown eyes. “James, you are anything but nervous. Do not let the 50% chance of it going wrong stop you. Because if you don’t go and find her, then you’ll regret it forever.”

James smiled, “thank you, Lils.” “Of course. Now go and get your girl!” Lily exclaimed, patting him on the back.

James laughed and got up off the bed. “Alright. Um, thank you so much. You’re a big help. And I have to say, I’m surprised you’re not surprised I said I liked you.”

She snorted, “everyone knew, James. It wasn’t exactly a secret.”

“Right. I’m not that subtle,” James chuckled.

“Okay, stop staling! If you stay here one more minute I’m going to throw you off the Astronomy tower.”

“Okay, okay, I’m leaving!” James walked over to the Fat Lady portrait, letting out a shaky breath as he stepped out.

————

chpt. 10

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#james potter × reader #james potter #james potter imagine #james potter x reader angst #james potter x reader fluff #james potter imagine fluff #james potter imagine angst #marauders #marauders era

[emerald-chaos]

Daydream

**gif not mine! credit to the owner**

So, I couldn't help myself. This is a continuation of my previous Bucky fic Insomnia because I just really enjoyed the dynamic between Bucky and the reader. I had a lot of fun writing this part and I love building things up between the two of them. If you guys like this or are interested in seeing more - please let me know! I love talking with people and hearing their ideas and such.

Much love xo.

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 2079

Warnings: cursing, struggles with mental illness, mentions of sex (nothing entirely explicit but better safe than sorry), alcohol use, and really poorly written jokes lmao

Fingers threaded into hair.

Hot, opened-mouth kisses marking every surface of your neck.

Nails trailing down his back leaving raised, red lines in their wake.

“Oh my god,” you groaned as you let your head fall back and continued to rock your hips into the man in front of you.

Strong hands tighten their hold on your hips, sure to leave purplish-blue bruises for the morning.

“C’mon, baby,” he grunted, face buried in your neck as he helped your body to grind against his, “I got you. Let go, fuck, let go for me.”

A pair of slender fingers snapped in front of your line of sight, tearing you from your daydream and bringing you harshly back to reality.

“Hmm, what was that?” You blinked a few times before you turned your attention to the redhead who you, apparently, had been having a conversation with.

“Are you serious?” She laughed, “I’ve been talking for the past 10 minutes! I looked over and you had that far off, glossy look in your eyes. Not to mention you’re bleeding.”

A hand found its way to your lower lip and you realized she was right. You had been so lost in wet dreamland that you chewed a layer of skin off of your lip. You hoped she didn’t notice the heat rising in your face as you cleared your throat, grabbing a tissue from the coffee table.

“Sorry,” you muttered, pressing the tissue against your injured lip, “guess I got lost in thought.”

“Is it one of those flashbacks again?” She asked kindly, facial expression softening.

You nodded quickly, knowing fully well that the statement was a lie. Your gaze drifted over the woman’s shoulder to the subject of your previous thoughts. It would be easier to explain the common occurrence of your PTSD than it would be to explain that you were reminiscing on the hot, steamy, passionate sex you had the night before.

Bucky was situated across the room, leaning against the counter as he talked to Rogers and Wilson. The unfortunately tight, black, short-sleeve t-shirt he was wearing left nothing to the imagination. It accentuated every muscle of the body you had gotten to know so intimately not more than 10 hours ago. His muscular arms were crossed at his chest and he was sporting his signature scowl. Everything about the sight sent a shiver down your spine. You finally had a taste and you wanted more.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Your friend’s voice gained your attention once more.

A small smile found its way to your lips as you met her gaze again. Apart from Bucky, Nat had always been a good trauma buddy of yours. From the beginning she had been someone you felt like you could confide in and someone who would understand your troubles. Sometimes you wondered if a requirement of joining the avengers was to have a fucked up, tragic backstory.

“I’m okay, Nat.” You reassured, “Just got lost in my head again.”

“Whatever you say. Maybe the party tonight will help you get your mind off of things,” She mused as she pushed herself from the couch to stand up. She paused briefly before she turned to you again, “you are coming, right?”

“Yeah,” you snorted, “Tony actually threatened me if I didn’t go this time, so, I guess I have to.”

After the last party you skipped out on, Tony cornered you in the hallway and gave you quite the interrogation. Then he went on a spiel about how staying in your room all day and all night was bad for you and that if he didn’t know better he would think you weren’t appreciative of what he’d done for you and blah, blah, blah. Tony really was a good person underneath all that hair gel. All he wanted was to help you break out of your shell and give you the family he knew you were lacking. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be a pushy asshole.

“Good, I’ll see you there. I’m sure Barnes will too.” A devilish grin painted her lips as she watched your jaw drop. Before you had a chance to say anything she was off down the hallway.

Fuckin’ Natasha.

*******

A pile of clothes littered your bed as you slipped another dress over your form. Not once in your life had you ever been concerned about what you were wearing or what you looked like, but there was something about tonight that made you want to turn heads. Your eyes raked down your figure as you twisted from side to side, admiring the way the black dress hugged your body in all the right places. Not to mention the thigh high slit in the dress showed off probably the only body part you weren’t self-conscious about. Tony, being the theatrical and over the top man he was, once said that you shouldn’t show up to his parties if you weren’t dressed to court a royal or to bring a man to his knees. Guess you were shooting for the latter.

As you put the finishing touches on your look for the evening, you felt that familiar heavy feeling settling into your chest. Your body always had a tendency to go into fight or flight mode when you became too familiar with anything or anyone. It felt like every fiber in your body was screaming for you to retreat into sweats and stay in your room, to not allow yourself this opportunity to enjoy the people you’d grown so close to. You know what happens when you let people in.

Grief, trauma, coping - it made it really difficult to live a “normal” life. Everyday tasks are daunting, it can be next to impossible to have intimate friendships or relationships, and not to mention the intrusive thoughts that infect your mind on a daily, if not hourly, basis. Here you were, the happiest you’d been in years. You were finally in a place where you felt loved, comfortable, safe - and yet your mind was trying to self-sabotage again.

You took a moment to close your eyes and take several deep breaths. When you opened your eyes you locked eyes with your reflection in the mirror and made a pact with the girl staring back at you. The intrusive thoughts and self-doubt couldn’t continue to have a hold over you anymore. You gave yourself a small smirk and nod as you made the decision to throw caution to the wind and give the party a try. What’s the worst that could happen?

*******

Come to find out, the worst that could happen would be your competitive nature overcoming the rational, thinking part of your brain; which in turn would lead you to enter in a drinking contest. Thankfully a small portion of your pink, smooth brain was still functional enough to tell you when you’d reached your limit. Now you sat comfortably on the couch, legs tucked underneath you as you joyfully watched your friends argue.

“Dr. Banner, my friend, you are one of the most intelligent people I know. However, you are wrong.” Thor stated simply as he finished the rest of his drink.

“Thor, for the last time, water is not wet!” Bruce retorted, throwing his hands up in frustration.

You let out a loud snort before thinking, “Oh yeah, water. I should drink some water.”

Your feet planted themselves on the floor and slipped back into your pair of shoes. As you made your way to the kitchen you were pleasantly surprised by your balance and coordination, considering how much alcohol you’d consumed. Seems that drinking with Thor has done wonders for your tolerance.

While you were busy searching the refrigerator for a bottle of water, you were also oblivious to the soft sound of footsteps coming into the kitchen. After retrieving the beverage, you closed the door and turned to leave. Instead, you turned right into the chest of a figure that was definitely not there a moment ago. You yelped as you clutched a hand over your chest dramatically, your face filled with horror as though you’d just come face to face with the grim reaper.

“Jesus Christ, Barnes!” you scolded.

Bucky was holding his abdomen as he leaned back, consumed with laughter at your reaction. You huffed and wanted to be offended, but he looked so damn cute laughing that you couldn’t help but join him. You pushed his chest playfully and grumped as you hopped up to sit on the counter, opening the water to gulp about half of it down. Bucky couldn’t help but grin at your pouty state as he finished up his laughing fit.

“My apologies, sweets. Didn’t realize I’d be makin’ ya scream twice in one day.” He teased, grinning even wider as he did so.

Your jaw dropped at the comment, quickly looking around to make sure no one else was in the kitchen to hear what he had said. After seeing that the coast was clear you kicked your foot at him out of annoyance, only for his metal hand to catch it smoothly. The two of you locked eyes, motionless for a moment before he moved closer, sliding his hand from your ankle to your thigh. In the moment, you damned yourself for choosing this particular dress. The closer he got, the faster your breathing became. The contrast between his cold embrace and your flushed, warm skin sent a shiver down your spine. Abandoning the water bottle, you ran your hands up his abdomen and chest until they rested on his shoulders. Following a small nudge from his knee, you parted your legs to allow him space to stand between them. The heat in your face at an all time high as he pressed his flesh hand to your cheek.

“Haven’t been able to stop thinkin’ about you.” Bucky whispered as he stroked the apple of your cheek with his thumb. Each word that left his lips had you feeling way more intoxicated than any liquor you’d had all night.

As quickly as it started, his touch was gone and his back was turned as he opened the fridge. Before you had a chance to open your mouth to ask what the hell just happened, Tony was entering into the kitchen.

“Well, well, well. Surprised to see you here, Annie.” Tony beamed as he laid eyes on you.

Yes, Tony had nicknamed you after little orphan Annie. Yes, he also referred to himself lovingly as Daddy Warbucks. Yes, any person in their right mind would probably be offended, but you were just fucked up enough that you found it kind of hilarious.

“Wish I could say that it’s a pleasure, Tony.” You grumped back, upset that you’d been cockblocked and by Tony no less.

“Never lose that spunk, kid.” Tony winked as he turned to see Bucky retreating from the fridge with a beer in hand. “Inspector Gadget! Good to see you too.”

As much as you didn’t want to encourage him, you couldn’t help but laugh. Much to your dismay, Bucky simply raised his bottle to Tony as if to say “cheers” and padded out of the kitchen.

“He has such a way with words.” Tony teased as you rolled your eyes.

A sigh left your lips as you slipped off the counter and back onto the floor, muttering a “goodnight” before leaving the kitchen and heading back to your room. Although you wanted nothing more than to find Bucky and finish what he had started in the kitchen, you came to the conclusion that you were probably too drunk and definitely too tired.

Back in the comfort of your bedroom, you went about your normal nighttime routine. As you exited the bathroom, you couldn’t help but notice a piece of paper that had been slipped beneath your door. Grabbing the paper from the floor and plopping back onto your soft mattress, you opened it to read the note that was scribbled in black ink.

Never got the chance to tell you how gorgeous you looked tonight. Gotta say, I’m a big fan of that dress.

Sweet dreams.

- B.

When you finished the note, it felt as though you were floating on cloud 9. Even when you laid your head down and tried to welcome sleep, Bucky’s words were still replaying in your head over and over again - like they were lyrics to your new favorite song.

Turns out you were down for Bucky Barnes, and you were down bad.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan #sebastian stan character #marvel fanfiction #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #white wolf #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan imagine

[ariaadagio]

Thoughts about S6

This is gonna be a little all over the place. Just me rambling, really. 

So, I went up to LA to watch the show with some fandom friends on Friday. We had an absolute blast. I loved the finale season of the show. LOVED. I had some quibbles, of course, but none worth lingering on at length. I know the ending was controversial for some, but not for me. It worked on all levels. 

I didn’t have much love for the end of 5B (I know, y’all are probably shocked, given some of the things I’ve written re: Lucifer becoming God or godlike) which is why I never really chimed in on the post-5B discussion. I just couldn’t muster much enthusiasm about it, and I didn’t want to froth about or hate on it when other people were having fun and gushing. 

But my main issues at the time involved: Lucifer suddenly wanting to become God felt poorly setup and unearned, and Chloe suddenly quitting the force to support Lucifer becoming God felt incredibly impulsive, perhaps almost out of character. 

S6 not only was perfect for me in its own right, it actually went back and fixed my S5B issues retrospectively. Lucifer suddenly wanting to become God felt poorly setup because it WAS poorly set up. On purpose. He never actually wanted to be God. It wasn’t his calling. And Chloe dropping her Detective job so suddenly WAS impulsive. On purpose. She really didn’t think that one through and ended up being bored out of her fucking mind without that job to engage her problem-solving brain. So ... kudos to the writers for that. I am so pleasantly surprised by that backtracking and never expected it.

As far as season 6 goes ... oh my gosh, what a brilliant roller coaster. Like @tarysande, I also spent a large portion of the season wondering what the evil trick was with Rory. I didn’t trust ANYTHING she said for many episodes. I kept waiting for a shoe to drop that never did. I really appreciate that Deckerstar did not get married—I never felt like a marriage was necessary for them given where they were in their life (a divorcee and a Devil who isn’t beholden to human constructs of law). I actively did not want a Deckerstar baby, but the show did it in a way I found absolutely lovely. Rather than using Rory as a magical “happily ever after” button as so many shows do, she was a tool to create massive character growth in Lucifer, and I am so on board with that. 

I cried during this season. Frequently. Which is something that rarely happens for me when watching or reading fiction. I am just ... so stupidly emotionally involved in these great characters. 

Some people may fixate on the separation between Lucifer and Chloe until her death, but to me ... it worked. Lucifer found a higher purpose and chose to fulfill it, to keep his promise to his daughter—to be a better father for Rory than his father was for him—and he does still ultimately get a “happily ever after” with his family and friends and dearest loved ones. It just starts a little later than planned. Chloe, meanwhile, gets to live her life knowing without doubt the love of her life is not only okay & pursuing his calling, he’s waiting for her on the flip side. They’ll have eternity together—ETERNITY, in exchange for a few decades apart. Bittersweet? Yes. Tragic? No. So I am okay with this. This is a level of certainty no real human ever gets—and as someone with zero certainty about the future whatsoever, I can’t express enough how much this foreknowledge alone would be a comfort in difficult times. It really resonates with me as a meaningful gift.

I do agree that there’s plenty of room for Lucifer to see Chloe without Rory’s knowledge, though I’m on the fence about how realistic this is. I think Dan called it, honestly. Having to watch and not participate is more torturous than not participating at all. And, as I said, he gets to see everybody eventually. He knows his daughter will understand—actively consents, even—and he knows their reunion will come.  He knows Chloe will come back to him, too, because he’s grown to trust and love her fully.

Along those lines, Lucifer showed amazing character development this year. Once this man figures out his feelings and commits, he is ALL IN. I was so proud of him, talking out his feelings, and saying I love you, and hugging people left and right. His goodbyes made me tear up, particularly the scene with Maze. Which. OMG. These two. That scene was a long time coming, and so heartfelt. i loved it. I also loved how comfortable in his own skin he finally seemed this season. He utilized his wings SO MUCH. And his devil face where appropriate. And there was zero angst about any of it.

Time travel is a trope that tends to break my brain, but ... I think Rory showing up is what enabled her own conception. Lucifer didn’t think he could have kids until he finds out he does in the future and then boom, suddenly he can conceive. He self-actualized working swimmers. I know this creates a chicken or the egg paradox—how could this loop ever even start if Rory hadn’t existed at least once on her own—buuut, I’ve definitely seen this trope used in other shows, such as Netflix’s Dark. So, imho, there was an added level to Lucifer’s sacrifice at the end—he wasn’t just trying to preserve his own epiphany via a promise to his daughter, he was actively choosing to save his daughter’s entire existence, and he was choosing to be different from his father.

People who think Lucifer was robbed of choice ... I beg to differ. For the reasons stated above, and also? He was the one who came up with the idea of returning to Hell. No one forced that on him. The only thing Rory did was speed up his time table. And I think there’s a beautiful kind of symmetry to the idea of him returning to Hell and choosing to reframe it as a place of healing, rather than eternal suffering. In a sense, he’s making his own Plan for himself. He’s defining his role in the universe: the Devil, not God. He’s defining his family: Chloe, Rory, Trixie, Dan, Maze, Eve, Linda, Amenadiel, Ella, and all the great friends he’s made. He’s defining his home: not a place, but where his heart is. For the first time in his life, the Devil decided who he is and what he wants to do with his life, instead of letting external forces do it for him.

And I fucking loved every minute of it.

A perfect ending for a long, thoughtful journey.

P.S. If you disagree with me, that’s fine. There’s no wrong way to interpret art and media. But please know I’m not really in the mindset for debate right now. I just want to live in my happy post-S6 bubble. I’d appreciate it if you let me :)

#lucifer meta #lucifer on netflix #lucifer s6 spoilers

[persephones-wren]

Could you write a Kaz Brekker request where the reader and Kaz are more than friends but not lovers and the reader is a Crow and therefore, can handle things for herself so she doesn't tell Kaz when a friend's ex is threatening her but Kaz ultimately finds out when the ex comes to the Crow Club and Kaz handles it since as much as he knows she capable, he is still protective of her and it leads to them finally becoming official?

Protective (Kaz Brekker x Reader)

I'm sorry about the ending, I couldn't find a great way to finish it- but maybe I'll fix that when I can think of something. Besides that, I hope you like it! :)

Warnings: depicted abuse, mentions of sedatives, misogynistic language (please let me know if there's any more)

Genre: not fluff

Word Count: 2705

You had a confusing relationship with Kaz.

It was an odd “more than friends, less than dating” relationship. It made sense, considering in the Barrel, women were more property than anything else. Besides, leverage was a thing everyone wanted on Kaz, even his closest allies. He wasn’t going to put himself in a position that made him anyone’s puppet. You didn’t exactly need him to declare you untouchable, anyway; you were usually more than okay with skirmishing with the Dime Lions and others that happened to be in your way.

You had never expected him to help you handle things that you could do alone.

It had been one of your wealthier friends, who helped get you out of the Menagerie. She had dated Zachariah Alix, a man with power and influence. She had usually dealt with his off-putting advances and abuse, but even you, who couldn’t see her often, could tell she wasn’t happy.

“Break up with him, then.” Your voice echoed in her private chambers as she sighed, multiple emotions running through her expression.

“Y/N, I just, I can’t. We’re already supposed to be married soon. Criminals in the Barrel are lucky in the way that you’re allowed to love who you please,” and damn your head for immediately thinking Kaz, “but merchers, well, it’s not that simple.”

“You callin’ me a criminal?”

“Yes,” she muttered, and you laughed, “but that’s not the point.”

“Are your parents forcing you to marry him?”

“Not exactly, but there’s going to be a lot more pressure if I break up with him.”

“Alright, well...from the list of merchers we’ve stolen from-'' she shot you a look, “sorry, sorry. It’s true though. I’m sure there’s someone on the list that’s for you.”

“I’ve got someone in mind already.”

“Well, that makes things easier, doesn’t it? Break up with him and get with the other guy. No parental pressure. Why do you need my advice, then? I get caught here and I’m as good as dead.”

“Okay, okay! It’s not parental pressure,” she lowered her voice, guilt painted across her face. “He’s going to stalk me if we break up. He might kill me. I don’t know what to do.”

“Alright,” you mulled it over. “That’s different. What can I do for you, then?”

“Can you be there when we break up? Moral support? And perhaps, well...if it wouldn’t trouble you, maybe do a little something to get him to leave me alone.”

“Like beat him up. It won’t trouble me,” you had answered. “Sure, I’ll do it.”

“Thank you,” she sighed in relief. “You’re the best, Y/N.”

“It’s nothing.”

…

“I don’t think we should continue on like this.”

There was a tension-filled silence, before Alix spoke again. “Why not, sweetheart?” He advanced towards her, and you had to prevent yourself from physically cringing. You were mostly moral support, and there to defend your friend if she got into deep shit, but, well...hopefully it wouldn’t come to revealing yourself.

“You- get off of me,” she pushed him away harshly. “You don’t get to talk me into forgiving you again. You are a child. You hit me and scream and throw tantrums. I want to be with someone who loves me, not someone who treats me like his mother. So that’s it. Get out of my house. We’re breaking up.”

There was another silence, before he spoke up again. “You little bitch,” he snarled, and grabbed at her dress, “you think you can just break up with me? No one’s ever going to be there for you. I’ll kill you and blame it on some Barrel thug. Check yourself, you’d be nobody without me.”

His hand closed in on her neck, and she looked to you, panicked. You put a finger to your lips before you snuck behind him, flicking off the safety and putting the pistol to his head.

He froze.

“Drop her.”

He did, and she slid down against the wall, tears streaming down her face. You had never intended to let it get that far, and it hurt your heart- but you had to deal with him first.

You knocked the gun into his head and used your elbow to knock him to the ground, putting a foot on his chest.

He looked up at you, terrified. What a coward.

“Too bad your daddy never taught you how to use guns,” you taunted, and grinned. “You leave her alone. She’s broken up with you. Get out of her house.”

“You’re Brekker’s whore, aren’t you?”

Your grin grows incredulous. You apply pressure to his chest steadily, and he wheezes, but he still continues.

“Yeah, look at you.You’re all upset, aren’t you, girl? Bet you’re sold out to half of the Barrel by him. Brekker likes his Kruge.” His eyes scan from underneath you. “Can’t say I’d blame him if he wanted to keep you as his personal pet, though.”

You scoff. “Careful what you say, I’m the one with a gun,” you remark, and you click a bullet into place for show, before taking your foot off. “Get out. If you touch her again, it’ll be more than me you’ll deal with.”

He scrambles upwards and disappears, and you hear the front door open and shut. You sigh.

“I’m sorry, I never intended for him to get that far. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” your friend sighs, hands lightly touching the bruises on her neck. “I think I’ll be okay. Thank you. What about you? You’re not-”

“I’m not with Kaz.” You help her up, and she smothers out her dress. “If Alix ever bothers you again, let me know.”

“Of course. I doubt he will. Thank you again, Y/N.”

…

He never did bother her again, but you- you were a different story. Every day, now, Kaz would offer you a note with some vague taunt on it.

“I’ll kill you.”

“Brekker’s slut! Slept your way to the top!”

“Let’s fight without a gun next time. I’ll have you pinned underneath me.”

“I’ll sedate and have my way with you. You still know some things from the Menagerie, don’t you?”

You had brushed off most of the taunts and threats, but they might’ve been starting to impact you, just a bit. You had assumed that Kaz had never read the threats. Each time, he would hand you the note with no expression.

Today’s note was a bit different.

“Y/N. Another note came in for you today.” He set the note on the table.

“Huh? Oh, thanks.”

You picked it up and unfolded the note, shielding the back of the paper with one hand. Kaz was clever, one of the many things you liked about him. You were sure that he’d try and read the back of the note if he could.

“Let’s meet on your territory. Crow Club at eight, in the alleyway.”

“Got yourself a boy, Y/N? These notes have started coming in every day,” Jesper whistled next to you, eyes scanning over the note. You look up, and Kaz is gone, watching from more of a distance. They’ve got it completely wrong.

You glance back down, and fail to notice how Kaz’s fingers tighten on his cane. Your laugh is dry, and you shake your head. “Nothing of the sort.”

Jesper ignores your denial. “Well, whoever he is, he seems awfully persistent. He wants to meet at the Crow Club, in the alleyway? Kinda sweet he wants to meet on your land, but why won’t he come in? He afraid of us, or somethin’?”

“Something like that,” you affirm.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to meet in here, either,” Inej says.

“Especially not with him here,” Jesper adds.

Your eyes meet Kaz’s across the room, and you both stare for a moment before he turns and looks away.

“Maybe.” Your answers are ambiguous, and you’re sure both Inej and Jesper want to know more, but you need to prepare for tonight.

“Sorry, guys. Excuse me.”

…

You have three throwable knives strapped into your boots, a small handgun holstered in your coat, and a syringe full of clozapine tucked up your sleeve. You’re prepared to take Alix down easily. You don’t exactly intend to shoot him, if only to make sure that the Crows don’t have a bigger target on their back from getting involved with the wealthy, but- well, you can’t deny it’s good to be ready in dire circumstances.

It’s 7:58 by the time you’re heading out to the back of the alley. You’re hiding behind the wall, just about to step over, but there’s already voices conversing there.

Did he bring backup? You grimace. You hadn’t considered that he might not fight fairly.

“Did she send her boyfriend after me ‘cause she was too much of a pussy to show?”

“I’d be careful what you say about Y/N.”

That’s Alix, and Kaz.

You’re not sure what you’re supposed to feel. He never did these kinds of things for you, never declared you his, but- you could handle this yourself. You didn’t need his protection, and you didn’t need him going out to deal with things because of one creepy ex.

Or, your thoughts betray you, you’re worried for him, because this could be a trap.

He glances over at the wall, where he seems to know you’re standing. It’s a warning glance, one to be quiet and let him deal with it.

“Aw, Brekker, you sweet on her? And here I thought it was a one-sided thing. Too bad I’m gonna ruin that pretty face of yours.”

Alix comes swinging. Kaz doesn’t say anything in reply, and instead jabs his cane forward, right into his stomach. He stumbles backward, and Kaz is still poised, waiting.

“I thought you were going to be more of a challenge than this. Even a fool knows not to attack first.”

“I’m no fool, Brekker. Don’t make any more sudden moves, or you’ll be shot. Do you know how easy it is to hire hitmen?”

There’s a faint look of surprise in Kaz’s expression before it smooths back into calm. “Well, to be honest,” he smiles pleasantly, “I thought merchers were above such methods.”

He’s glancing at you again, before his eyes move over two guard towers.

He’s pointing out to you where they are. Shit, what do you do? You’re no Inej, who can scale the walls and take them down silently. You’re no Jesper, who can shoot them with precision. You’re not going to be able to take out both snipers quickly enough. If you kill Alix and Kaz doesn’t dive behind the wall in time, he’ll get shot.

You let out a silent sigh. If only you could get both Kaz and Alix behind the wall, then you can get rid of the problem at its source, and then fuck the hitmen. They’re not going to kill Kaz if they can’t get paid.

“The rich are never above any methods. The only thing the rich care about is eradicating the criminals that roam the streets. I thought I was gonna get Y/N, and I could take her back to Tante Heleen,” he grinned, “But you’ll be worth a lot more. Wonder who’ll lay claim to you first.”

Kaz doesn’t say anything, just puts his hands behind his back, as if he’s waiting to be cuffed. But he gives quick signals to you, right before Alix steps around to secure the bonds- a quick countdown. He’s expecting you to shoot.

“No plans up your sleeves this time, Dirtyhands?”

You suddenly fire at Alix’s shoulder, a scream tearing through his throat as the cuffs drop to the ground. Kaz dives towards the wall, grabbing his cane along the way and breathing hard next to you.

Somehow, your aim remains true, and when you peek over the corner, you see Alix desperately trying to grasp at his wound. A grim sort of satisfaction greets your expression.

“Should’ve shot him in the head,” Kaz looks on with you.

“I’m trying not to paint a bigger target on our backs,” you explain, before you remember you’re supposed to be mad at him. Damn him for taking the fall for you. Did he know it was going to be a trap?

“Why the hell would you confront him alone? I had it handled, Kaz.”

“Not now..” His stare is directed at the shadows. And before you can get another word out, both of you are headed to his office.

The brisk walk is silent, and the tension could be cut through with a knife. At last, you reach his office, and he shuts the door, and sits down at his desk. You stand in front of him.

“Care to explain why you decided to confront Alix by yourself?” “I read the notes. I knew it was a trap.”

This doesn’t make you feel any better. “So you read the notes, where he called me a whore, a slut, your personal toy, and you don’t decide to tell me? You let it continuously happen, and then when the note comes today, you decide to go and white-knight for me because protecting me is a better idea than consulting me, huh?” you scoff. “That’s bullshit. You know I can handle myself. There’s a reason you chose me to be a part of the Crows, is there not? Or is what Alix said true? Did I sell myself to get to the top? Become your bitch?”

“I knew you could handle yourself just fine,” Kaz says calmly. “I didn’t want you to get hurt, because you didn’t consider the fact it was a trap. You could’ve died.”

“I would’ve been fine alone. Just because you’re the one who accounts for everything doesn’t mean I don’t use my head.” You know you’re being unfair, he’s right about the fact that you thought the fight was legitimate, but you could’ve saved yourself all the same.

“I’m not saying you don’t use your head, I’m saying that the probability of you dying if you went alone were much higher. I wanted to help you, save your ass back there,” he refutes.

“I would’ve died. So what? Deaths happen all the time in the Barrel! I die, and what?”

He doesn’t say anything.

You give a sardonic laugh. “I’m just an investment to you. I do what you want, with no question or hesitation, because I put my faith in you. My death just means the loss of a good soldier. I’m replaceable, though. My opinions are invaluable, so you don’t talk to me before you do shit. I’m always going to be underneath you, just a pawn.”

“You’re assuming things.”

“Like what, then?”

“Have you considered the fact that I was there because I wanted to help you? Because you’re a part of my Crows, and I don’t take anyone threatening us too kindly?”

His admission has you pausing, but he continues. “You die, and what? Forget what I may feel. What about Inej and Jesper? What about Nina, Wylan? I don’t want you to be underneath me. I see you as an equal.”

“I-”

“That’s why I was there. Because I-” love you, he nearly says, but he stops himself. “I protect the people I love.”

“And I’m someone you love,” you state quietly.

“Yes.”

You’re not sure how much you must have pissed him off to make him an honest man, but you can’t help smiling a little. “Saints, Kaz, at least ask a girl to be yours before you tell her you love her.”

“Fine. Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?”

“Who the hell are you and what have you done with Kaz Brekker?” You grin.

“Stop dodging the question,” he bites out.

“Yeah, I will,” you sigh. “But don’t get yourself killed, and especially not over me, please.”

“Well, darling, I think it’s fair of me to ask the same thing for you- don’t be reckless. People die far too easily in the Barrel,” he responds.

There’s another small silence, before you speak up again.

“Kaz. Thank you.”

He’s slightly surprised at the genuine warmth in your eyes, quickly replacing the anger that was in them before. He shrugs a little.

“It’s what lovers do, right?”

“Yeah,” you answer. “Lovers.”

Lovers, indeed.

#shadow and bone #six of crows #grishaverse #six of crows x reader #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #soc kaz #soc x reader #kaz x reader #kaz brekker #thank you anon #might edit later #request

[queensoybean0724]

Succession Chapter 5 (Karl Heisenberg/female reader) Resident Evil Village fanfic

Here’s chapter 5!  I hope y'all enjoy the sexual tension!!!

Title: Succession Chapter 5

Characters: Karl Heisenberg, female reader, the Duke

Rating: PG-13 for language, sexual tension (also may be triggering with kidnapping and forceful grabbing) this is a slow burn; it will get very smutty and spicy later on!

Summary: you discover a long lost relative has died and made you his sole beneficiary.  While flying to collect your inheritance, you crash in a village in Romania.

Author’s Note: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village.  This is a work of fiction.  Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter 5

When he left you to go retrieve your belongings from the crash, you had very little to do to entertain yourself.  You looked over the books he had lying around.  A few books were in German.  The other books were of topics you didn’t find interesting.  But there were a few pieces of fiction that proved to be of interest and passed the time until Heisenberg returned.

Five hours later, you heard the keys in the lock and you jumped for joy...not because he was back, but because you were in terrible need of the bathroom.  

“Honey, I’m home!” Heisenberg called out before laughing at his own joke.  You looked down to see your suitcase and messenger bag as well as two other small suitcases under his arms.  Son of a bitch, you thought, he actually found my stuff!

“You were actually able to find my bags?” you asked, watching as he placed them down at your feet.

“I sure did, doll face,” he answered, “I also found a few other suitcases that I think could be of use to you...they look to have been owned by women on the flight...and I doubt they’ll be using them anymore…”  

“Hey!” you said with an air of disbelief, “everyone on that plane died!  I appreciate you bringing me more clothes, but show some respect!”

Heisenberg chuckled and held up his hands in surrender.  As you stooped down to inspect your bags, Heisenberg gave you a thorough once over.  His long sleeved shirt hung on you, the hem of it coming to your mid thigh.  Your hair was rustled and in need of a good brushing, but it gave you a wild, post-sex look that made him stiffen slightly in his pants.

You stood up and looked up at him.  “Thank you, Karl,” you said and his cock stiffened even more at the sound of his name on your lips.

“It was nothing,” he said, turning and walking towards the table, “I was going through the wreckage for scrap metal anyway...just thought I’d try and look for your stuff while I was at it…”

“Karl?” you spoke...and once again Heisenberg had to bite his tongue to keep from groaning at his name, “can I use the toilet?  I really have to go and there isn’t one in here…”

“Yeah, sure…” he muttered.  He turned towards you and grabbed your arm, pulling you out of the door.

“Oww!  You don’t have to grab me so hard!” you spat as he walked you across the hall.  Heisenberg said nothing; he simply opened the door.  You looked in to find a small room with a toilet and a steel sink.

“Come back into the room when you are done,” he growled, “do not make me chase after you again…”  You ignored his moody temperament and went into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind you.  Cursing under his breath, Heisenberg walked back into his room.

“What the fuck are you doing, Karl?” Heisenberg muttered to himself as he grabbed a drinking glass, filled it with water, and sat down at the table.  He reached down to adjust his cock in his pants before digging in his jacket for another cigar.

A few moments later, he heard the bathroom door open.  He listened for fast retreating steps running down the hallway, but was pleasantly surprised when he heard you walk back into the room.

*

“How’s that, huh?  Comfy?”

Heisenberg had secured your wrists in the makeshift handcuffs that hung from his headboard, making sure that you were not going anywhere for the evening.  You looked up at him and shot him the most murderous glare you could muster, to which he let out a laugh.  Releasing your wrists, he walked over to his dresser.

After you returned from the bathroom, Heisenberg left and locked you in again, allowing you to change into your clean clothes.  When he came back, you were in your pajamas:  a black halter top and blue drawstring shorts.  You were sitting at the fireplace, keeping warm and sitting on a blanket.  You noticed his jaw clench and his shoulders stiffen when he looked at you.

He draped his trenchcoat over the back of the chair and told you there was an area in the factory where you could wash your clothes and hang them to dry and that he would take you there in the next few days.  You thanked him, but just when you thought he was actually kind, he grabbed you and began cuffing you to the bed.

“What time is it?” you asked as you plopped down on the bed, curling up on your side.  You pulled on the long chain so you could reach for the sheets and covers, pulling them up over your body.

“Past midnight,” Heisenberg answered, walking to his dresser.  You had lost all sense of time since the crash and you couldn’t believe how late it was.

You looked over at him, wanting to ask another question, when your voice and your brain stopped.  Heisenberg had removed his hat, his sunglasses, and the objects hanging from his neck, placing them on top of the dresser...and removed his shirt.  Your mouth opened as you took in his body.  He was in good shape; his back, chest, arms, and torso well defined from working in the factory.  He had scars that peppered his body, but seeing as he worked with steel and metal all day, that wasn’t unusual.

Heisenberg undid his belt and pulled it from the loops of his pants, wrapping it around his hands and placing it on the dresser.  Impure thoughts flowed through your mind of him using that belt on you...spanking you...restraining your wrists behind your back...wrapping it around your neck like a collar…

You laid your head back down on the pillow and pushed the intruding thoughts away.  This was a man who kidnapped you and is keeping you locked away in his factory.  He had countless bodies down below and who knows what he did with them.  He wouldn’t let you use a telephone or any sort of communication to get help.  Why was he keeping you here?

Heisenberg walked to the other side of the bed and slid under the covers.  He left the lamp on the table turned on in order to give you an ounce of comfort.  God knows you wouldn’t be able to sleep in the pitch black next to a stranger.

He glanced over at you curled up facing away from him, taking in your shoulders, your back, and the curve of your hips underneath the covers.  His lust for you was growing.  Hell, it took every ounce of self control not to throw you on his bed when he walked in and saw you sitting at his fireplace.  The light dancing off your face and the way your pajamas hugged your curves nearly did him in.  You had left his shirt on the table once you put your clothes on.  He picked it up when your back was turned, lifted it to his nose, and smelled your scent on his shirt.  He didn’t know how much more of this torture he could take.

Heisenberg turned his gaze to the ceiling, adjusted his cock in his pants again, and relaxed back into his pillow.

*

You awoke to the sounds of drawers opening and closing loudly.  Heisenberg didn’t make any attempt to be quiet so as not to disturb your sleep.  You blinked and groaned, turning your face into the pillow.

“Well, good morning, sunshine!” Heisenberg greeted as he tucked his shirt into his pants and grabbed his belt.  You groaned again.  You hadn’t slept well at all.  The weight of all that happened came to reality once again as you laid cuffed to the bed.  Anxiety brewed in your belly and the only reason you were able to drift off was after a long bout of crying once Heisenberg had fallen asleep.  The man had slept soundly, as was evident by his fitful snores throughout the night.

“Come on,” Heisenberg said, unlocking your restraints and letting them fall to the floor.  You sat up on the edge of the bed, rubbing your wrists.

“Where are we going?” you asked as you knelt beside your suitcase, grabbing some clothes.

“To see the Duke,” Heisenberg answered, “I need some supplies…”

He allowed you to dress in the bathroom across the hall and take your toiletries with you in order to brush your teeth, wash your face, and brush your hair.  Once you were done, you opened the door and found him leaning against the wall.  He had put on his trench coat, hat, and gloves while he waited.

Heisenberg made his way down the hall and you followed behind, much to his shock.  He half expected you to turn around and run the other way, desperate once again to get away from him.  The fact that you still stuck by his side made a slow smile spread across his face.

He slid open the large doors one at a time.  The air was cold in the early morning.  The sun was shining with just a few clouds in the sky.  It was a pretty day.  You looked over at Heisenberg as he put his sunglasses on.

You followed Heisenberg down the path and looked out towards the gate.  They were open wide and sitting there was a large wooden carriage.  The back doors were opened and there was an array of things hanging from the doors and sitting along the ground on either side of the carriage.  As the two of you approached, you saw a man sitting inside the carriage amongst the supplies.  He wore clothes that were smaller than his big frame.  A cigar was in his hand and he lifted it to his mouth.  Once his eyes fell on you, they widened slightly.

“Well well well...who do we have here?” the man asked, looking down at you.  Heisenberg said nothing to the man and immediately began searching through the wares.

“I’m Y/N,” you answered.  

“You can call me the Duke, Y/N...and it is lovely to meet you…”  He leaned down and extended his hand.  You stepped closer, stood up on your tiptoes, and shook the man’s hand, smiling.  He had a kind face and seemed very nice and polite.  “I don’t suppose you know anything of that plane crash I saw not too far from here…” the Duke mentioned.

You nodded just as Heisenberg grumbled under his breath.  “I was on the plane,” you said softly, “I don’t think anyone else survived other than myself…”

“Well,” the Duke said, “it’s a miracle you did survive.  The crash looked very unpleasant…”

“What will you take for this?” Heisenberg interrupted gruffly, holding up something wrapped in paper with PORK written on it.  The Duke rattled off a price to which Heisenberg offered a cheaper price.  The two of them bartered as you stood there in silence.

A loud huff came from the front of the carriage and you stepped to the side in order to see what made the noise.  A horse stood facing away, reins hanging from its mouth.  The horse was jet black with long hair falling from its neck.  You smiled.  You had always loved horses.

Walking closer to the animal, you placed your hand on its hip and ran your hand along the horse’s body as you walked closer to the front.  You remembered one summer when you took equestrian lessons and the trainer told you to always keep one hand on the horse as you walked around it in order not to spook the animal.

“Hey…” you said softly as you looked up into its eyes.  The horse let out another huff, the steam of its breath pushing out of its nose.  You smiled and slowly began to pet along its neck and hair.  The horse seemed very relaxed, allowing you to pet it.  You raised your other hand in front of its face and it nudged your hand.  You laughed softly as you praised the beautiful animal.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING??”

You jumped back from the horse and turned to see Heisenberg standing at the back of the carriage.  His gloved hands were balled into fists as he stood glaring at you.

“I’m petting the horse!” you answered shrilly.  

Jesus Christ, you thought, I wasn’t doing anything.  You were about to yell obscenities towards the man, but then you took in Heisenberg’s rigid stance and his chest rising and falling.  You knew exactly why he was so upset.  “...you thought I had run off, didn’t you?” you asked.

“Come back over here where I can see you…” he growled.

You walked back to Heisenberg and the Duke, mentally calling Heisenberg every filthy name you could think of.  Your arms were crossed in front of you and you kept your mouth shut.  You took in the scenery around you, kicking the dirt and rocks on the ground.

Finally, Heisenberg seemed to be finished with whatever supplies he needed from the Duke.  He paid for his things, loaded them into a sack provided by the Duke, and turned to you.  “Let’s go,” he muttered, grabbing your arm and walking back towards the factory.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Y/N,” the Duke said.  You turned to look back at him, giving him a small smile and a wave.  As you continued walking with Heisenberg, a sudden ounce of defiance sprung in you and you turned back to the Duke, pulling your arm from Heisenberg’s grasp.

“Oh, and Duke,” you said, “if you hear of any search parties in the area, please let them know a survivor is here at the factory…”

“No!” Heisenberg interjected, “don’t say anything!  Y/N will be just fine here!”  He grabbed your arm again in a sudden jerk and marched quickly to the double doors of the factory, practically dragging you behind him.

Once the two of you walked over the threshold and into the building, he pushed you forward with a loud grunt.  You shrieked and fell to your hands and knees as he dropped the sack and quickly closed one door and then the other.  Once he secured the lock, Heisenberg grabbed you by the nape of your neck, pulled you to your feet, and whirled you around so that your back was pressed against the nearest wall.

“What the fuck are you trying to pull??” Heisenberg growled, his right hand wrapped around your throat.  He pressed his left hand against the wall next to your head, keeping you from escaping.  “First off, the Duke will not help you.  He stays neutral in all things pertaining to this village.  And second, if you wander away from me again, I’ll make sure you permanently stay shackled to my bed for the rest of your days!”

“Fuck you!” you spat at him, hitting at his arm and trying to wriggle away.  His fingers tightened on your neck.  You tried to kick him, but you weren’t quick enough.  Heisenberg pushed your legs apart with his feet and thrust his hips against yours, keeping your body pressed against the wall.  Your hands wrapped around his arm as you struggled to push it from your neck.

You looked up into his face, both of you breathing heavily.  You could barely see his eyes through the sunglasses.  He tilted your head up.  The softest touch of the tip of your nose touched his nose.  Heat grew between your legs at the feel of his groin against yours.  Your eyes widened when you felt the growing hardness of his cock through his pants.  Without thinking, you slowly tilted your hips upwards.

With a soft groan, Heisenberg rolled his hips against yours.  A quiet whimper escaped your lips and you instantly regretted it.  You watched as the ends of his mouth curled upwards in a knowing smile.  God damn him, you thought.  Your fingers continued to tighten on his arms.  Heat flushed your cheeks and your pupils grew.  Your hips tilted upwards once again.

Just as Heisenberg was able to press his lips to yours, you snapped out of it and brought your right hand across his cheek.  He barely registered the hit as he slowly took his hand off your neck and took a step back.

“Get your ass back to my quarters,” Heisenberg growled.

#resident evil village #resident evil village fanfic #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg fanfic #daddy heisenberg #heisenberg #house heisenberg

[politijohn]

Which, if any, US politician(s) would you support if Bernie chooses not to run in 2024?

If Biden runs for re-election, I don’t see any mainstream left-leaning politicians running against him on the Dem Party ticket. It just doesn’t happen. Though, I’d love to be pleasantly surprised.

That said, I’d like to see Marianne Williamson run again on an even more progressive platform. I think she’s such a fascinating woman who has such good intentions. Her often mystical worldview is almost a breath of fresh air in the realm of politics, especially if channeled appropriately. I’d also love to see Barbara Lee run for President one day but truly doubt she’d do so in 2024 against Biden.

#asks