#but i’ve had to accept that it’s purely a me problem and my brain is lying or something

[angelsdean]

✨angelsdean’s recent reads: JULY ‘22✨

So, I read a lot of fic. And I’ve been wanting to make rec lists but a problem with reading a lot of fic is that after a while I tend to forget what happened and fics blend together in my mind RIP. But I want to start at least rec’ing my “recent reads” so that’s what this is: stuff I’ve read throughout this month. Okay, let's do this! Divided into two sections, canon-verse and AUs, and listed by word count. 

💥Canon-verse fics💥

About Five Times The Distance by KelpietheThundergod [ 70k, rated E ] - It's been months since Michael unexpectedly let Dean go, but he's still dealing with the mental and physical repercussions, some of which have turned out to be permanent. This case fic follows Dean and Cas as they develop their relationship and establish intimacy. Dean is so clingy. I cried a lot.  

Darkest Roads verse by chaoticdean [ 63k, rated E ] - Dean and Cas go undercover as a couple going through therapy, in order to catch a monster that specifically targets couples dealing with issues, feeding on their distress, anger, and pain. Feelings left untold come to the surface, as they do. 

It's safe to sleep inside his skin by kathscradle [ 13k, rated E ] - Dean just really wants to get inside Cas, like burrow under his ribs and make a home there. Close is never close enough, etc, etc. 

The Council Of Charlie Bradbury by FallenAngelOfThursday [ 13k, rated T ] - Cas is back from the Empty, and Dean is struggling to accept that there's finally peace in the world. watching the camera footage of the dungeon scene on repeat probably isn't helping. Cas gives Dean space to heal, but is lonely. Sam decides to bring Charlie in to help these two finally get together. 

a sparrow with broken wings by Anonymous [ 11k, rated T ] - Cas dies, and Dean stops eating, and he keeps on dreaming. Dean’s grief over Cas’s death manifests as a severe eating disorder. It’s heavy but it ends happy. 

the motions by fidgetygirl [ 5k, rated M ] - The bunker has a christmas party. Sam gets dunked on. Dean tries to stay sober and just breathe.

take a sad song by foolondahill17 [ 4k, rated M ] - stanford era dean gets an abortion fic! it’s purely a coincidence that both me and @foolondahill17 were both thinking of this concept at the exact same time but it really did feel like this was dropped right out of my brain. 

the boy without a home by FallenAngelOfThursday [ 3k, rated M ] - A short dean studies on identity and his quest to feel like he belongs. 

3 hr 33 min (221 miles) by NightChanghes [ 3k, rated G ] - A little over a year ago, the Empty took Castiel. Nearly 5 months ago, it spit him back out. Dean is still mourning.

Chasing Feathers by junkyardheart [ 2k, rated G ] - The missing scene from Faith 1x12. Dean learns that he's dying, and ruminates on life, death and everything he wishes he had the time to fix. Faith!dean feels. Dying boy I love youu!

million reasons by casdoms [ 2k, rated M ] - oh dean’s mommy issues<3 anyway, set in s12, Dean’s feeling a lot about Mary coming back, and Cas comforts him. 

Time for a gay wedding by fellshish [ 2k, rated M ] - thee 30k dean fic ! Is Cas gay? Clearly there’s only one way to find out. Dean proposes. Truly chaotic dean energy that only @fellshish can capture.  

Sex Should Be Fun by things_renew_themselves [ 2k, rated M ] - Castiel and Dean speak about April and Castiel's sexual encounter. Years later, they speak about having sex with each other. 

hug-o-meter by Emeraldcas [ 1k, rated G ] - Dean wants to hug Cas because of course he does, so maybe he'll just ask him and see what happens.

until my darkness goes by CherryBlossomSprings [ 1k, rated G ] - Dean has been sober before. He was clean for a whole year in purgatory. Not that he had that much choice, liquor is unsurprisingly hard to come by in monster heaven. And he managed a few weeks when The Mark was at its worst. He can do it again. No, he has to do it again.

A Cat in Hell’s Chance by thesebrokenwings [ 1k, rated T ] - Dean adopts a cat and Cas has a hard time adjusting. Fellas, are you ever jealous of the cat?!  

💫AU fics 💫

Meathead by ValandraWrites [ 92k, rated E ] - Professor Cas and body-builder Dean meet at a gym. Dating and BDSM shenanigans ensue. **There’s one kink in the tags that might scare some off, it almost did for me but, it’s only in one scene and very minor. The story overall is really good.  

sons and daughters by foolondahill17 [ 77k, rated M ] - the sequel to Silver Linings, so you’ll have to read that first. Silver Linings follows a year in the life of Dean Winchester. Dean’s bi: sexual and polar. He’s got a string of hospitalizations under his belt. He’s a felon. He’s got a secret. 

A Judicious Application of Free Will by Annie D [ 57k, rated E ] - Dean lives the simple life in Lawrence, running the family business at Winchester Hardware. When Castiel moves into the neighborhood, they strike up a friendship that has the chance to become something more. But before that can run its course, the secrets of Castiel’s past catch up with them both, and their whole world changes. Truly a wild ride! 

put your money where your mouth is 'verse by kototyph [ 56k, rated E ] - A modern AU featuring Vegas, coconut bras, airplanes, Boston, cupcakes, prasinophobia, baseball, kittens, nor'easters, and men expressing deep emotion (in that order). Basically they get accidentally married, then fall in love. 

On Air by wincechesters [ 21k, rated E ] - Cas and Dean are radio DJs and best friends who own a house together but are totally just friends. But for some reason, a lot of their listeners and even some of their friends and family seem to think that they’re secretly in some kind of relationship. Which is ridiculous. Until an ill-fated on air game of Truth or Dare turns everything upside down. Literally idiots in love. 

Are @impala67 and @angelbeekeeper dating? by angelcaswinchester [ 3k, rated T ] - Mid-30s, single, with an obsession with vintage cars and cooking in his spare time, Dean wasn't prepared for anything to come out of signing up for a Tumblr account. But then Dean finds the blog @angelbeekeeper and maybe he develops a little crush on the blogger, Castiel. But there's no way Castiel would notice him, right?

#*does math* did i read over 500k words in july? yes #do i think that's a lot? not..really? #this looks like a lot for some. maybe? but for me july was actually a pretty off month ajskfdk #fic recs #deancas fic recs #destiel fic recs #recent reads #myrecs

[satocidal]

I'm studying social work so I kind of mix law, sociology and psychology 😅 this is why I'm the way I am, ig

And like, I'm really sorry for the toxic things that happened to your friend.

Yet, as someone who's got friends with toxic things happening in their life and who had toxic things happening in my own life, I also have to say some people are not 'ready to be helped'.

Some people will not see you for your worth. That doesn't make you less worthy, it just means you two simply don't fit.

And while a lot of one's behaviors are influenced by how they grew and their mental state, it is also not your duty to help them "escape" those. Especially when they don't willingly try to help in those things that are actually their problem.

For example, I was really depressed in my middle school years. I had a lot going on and all that. Everything was a mess and in shambles.

BUT

When my bestie came into my life and started talking to me, I started making progress because I /wanted/ to get better.

And I'm not saying there aren't moments when I fail and revert back to bad habits. But actively trying is a form of accepting a helping hand and being thankful.

It's the "my trauma/mental state does not excuse my behavior, it just explains it"

If my apartment is messy my explanation is I wasn't in a good mental state and it reflected in my surroundings and all, but it's not an excuse for the apartment being messy. That one is legitimately and exclusively my fault.

My bestie offering help is welcomed, but I do not sit and watch while she does it for me because she doesn't have to clean after me. I have to do something too. To help, at least. Even if it's in another form such as teaching her to make pancakes and offer her the patience her mother didn't have to teach her how to do it.

People will say friendships are selfless. And they are, in the sense that one shall not expect instant gratification for an act of pure heart.

But they're not /free/. Because you "pay" with something else. Sometimes it's your time and all.

So yeah

Don't let even your own brain make you believe you're in wrong for possibly letting go of someone who doesn't try to keep you 🥺

~🦊

Answer under cut<3

I mean I do get you, I really do but then how do i put it? Like I just…idk, I just deal with things in a sense that it’ll pass. Like issues with firmed or whatever happen and my thoughts ar just- no matter, not like these friendships would last a lifetime and it shows that they won’t. And I know this is very very toxic a thinking but idk it’s just how I cope now.

I’ve never had emotional,y detaching from things so I’m afraid that if I decide I want to, it’ll be done with so quick. And it makes afraid because i feel like no one has ever understood me like she does but then at the same time, i don’t want to open up anymore because she doesn’t want to hear stuff probably at all.

But that’s that- idk.

#from.🦊baby #☼࿐𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠→

[xfortunearcana]

ICE CREAM SANDWICH STARTER SENTENCES (PART 1)

“I have hurt myself. Not on purpose, but because I’m being an idiot. Or because I’m near an idiot! That idiot is usually me.”

“I’ve stubbed toes, I got hit in the face with a shoe, fallen off of a skateboard, fallen down stairs…”

“I’ve fallen down the stairs more than I’d like to admit; one time with an entire plate of spaghetti. But that was more of an emotional pain than a physical one.”

“… When I hear fun coming from outside my window.”

“I don’t know how to explain it, it’s not important.”

“Clearly they were having a blast, and I wanted to have some blast.”

“I had an advantage. While most people are fast or strong, my body is wiggly.”

“You good?!”

“… And because I’m an idiot, and embarrassed, I was like… yeah!, and he was like ‘cool’, and then left.”

“… So to pass the time my good, loving friends made jokes at my expense.”

“What is wrong with me? This was a deep seated problem from childhood.”

“I am not a smart person, and I never have been and I never will be.”

“Get out of here! Get away from my house!”

“I know what I’m talking about when I call myself stupid, or dumb. This isn’t a self deprecating thing, or a self hate thing. It’s just like one of those facts of life.”

“Earth is round, sun is bright, and I got square brain.”

“How did I get through school? Barely.”

“Every time I’ve had a misunderstanding where there really shouldn’t be any misunderstanding, I’ve been writing down and putting it in this list. And now I have a list of all the times I was being dumb.”

“So now, my stupidity is quantifiable.”

“Pay per view is not… paper view.”

“Paper view implies there’s paper involved instead of a TV. Like you would just get some papers with pictures of the show you wanna watch? Turns out it’s something you pay every time you view it.”

“Calling someone a sweetpea is not calling them a pea of which is sweet.”

“When information enters my mind… it just… I don’t know what happens to it.”

“What would a sweet pea taste like? What is that flavor?”

“If I had a nickel every time I was dumb, I would not have to be smart to make a lot of money.”

“I thought for a very long time that peer pressure was ‘pure pressure’.

There’s water pressure, air pressure, and then there’s your friends.

“Mushrooms are called toadstools because it’s like a stool… for a toad.”

“Amazing! I’m accepting that as fact.”

“In conclusion, I’m not… got the smarts.”

“But I’m good at other things! Like this little dance.”

“Silver lining, I now know all these things! And my intelligence has been improving, if only a little, over time.”

“Look at me! Look at my eyes!”

“Do I look like somebody who likes to work, or do I look like somebody who likes to eat pizza like a cookie?”

“Did anybody else think that’s crazy?! Or am I crazy? I AM crazy!”

“I don’t like to work. I just like… the money.”

“I don’t want people yelling at me about… onions! I don’t care about onions.”

“It was not really that great!”

“Excuse me! Why would you say that? You could say a million things to me! You could compliment me!”

“Why not say, ‘wow (name), your eyes look beautiful today’?”

“The worst part about rude customers is that you can’t say anything despite if they’re wrong or not.”

“YOU’RE MEAN!”

“More than anything the situation was just awkward.”

“Here’s some advice: if you wanna ship drugs, DON’T!”

“So uh, that’s another red flag. Two for two, baby?”

“Is any retail job good enough? I don’t know.”

“Another dude wanted me to help him with his email because the government was hacking his email.”

#☽‌ SPACE DUST ‌;‌ ‌(Created by Lyra)‌ ‌☆��� #☽‌ ‌DUSK STARS ‌;‌ ‌(Ask Box)‌ ‌☆‌

[daveinediting]

Last night, the show BrainWorks: Vision and the Brain won an Emmy Award in the category of Children/Youth/Teens.

The show won the award. 

The show on which we worked, myself on editing and motion graphics.

Now, I have no problem taking credit for my own efforts. And it's certainly a lovely thing to dress up for an awards night with your wife, colleagues, and friends... and then actually find yourself onstage with part of the team behind the project receiving that gold, weighty Emmy. I won't lie. It was a bit of a surprising out-of-body experience that was very much like watching a live feed from a point of view camera attached to my forehead.

I was up there because the show for which I contributed editing and motion graphics won in its category.

It's a little like accepting an award on behalf of your child who beat other children at something. Maybe they produced the best drawing of Mickey Mouse. Maybe they did the funniest impersonation of their teacher. Maybe they recycled the most candy wrappers (because they ate the most candy, obviously). 

It's their achievement but you take the credit because your child is the product of you, your partner, and your efforts.

A show award is a little like that. It's an imperfect metaphor but the reason I use it is because there are craft awards specifically for writing and editing and photography among other specialties. I won a Telly award for music and that definitely was all me. I have friends who won photography and writing and editing awards and that definitely was all them. Show awards, even though they're not treated this way, are most like team news coverage awards where there's at least an attempt at acknowledging everyone involved because the award-worthy finished product was created by everyone involved. The audience experience is defined by everyone involved. And the ability of the team to achieve rarified levels of professionalism, craft, performance, inspiration, speed, creativity, and undeniably engaging work... is because of everyone involved. In live broadcast news, it's called team coverage. A specific experience made possible by a team and recognized as such just as films and streaming series are crafted by highly skilled, highly talented specialists who work together at sometimes massive scale. And that team of professionals, however large or small, whether film or broadcast television or web, defines a quality of work goes well beyond standard job descriptions. Theirs is a truly collective, whole is greater than the sum of parts, effort.

As an editor, I spent most of my career working at a small production company where we're exquisitely aware of each other's contributions. For me especially, my part of the team process starts with watching every last bit of footage that comes back from the field. All of it. Drones. GoPros. iPhones. HDCams. DSLRs. Everything. Whatever's in use to capture moving images. Whatever's gonna be invented to capture moving images.

However the technology shakes out, the experience of this footage tells me what can be done. The experience of this footage informs me of what's absolutely possible. And so it's usually a bit of a Christmas morning experience absorbing the photographer's work, responding to that work with pure emotion, without agenda. And yes. The work I do then is very much either constrained by or set free by what I see and hear and feel.

In my career, I've nearly always had the pleasure of leveling up great work. It's what I absolutely adore about my career. And yes, there have been those occasions when I threw things at the monitor out of outrage and frustration. Few and far between were those occasions, though. 

In my early production experience in the field, traveling Europe, traveling the American Midwest to the West coast, there was never a question that we all relied on one another. In my later experience, a few times as a director, I was struck not only by how the professionalism and skill of each crew member impacted the production... but also how the personality of each crew member was a massive X-factor producing all kinds of unexpected dividends. Ideas that could and did flourish around the certain people. Performances that got better in the right environment. Things you could make up on the spot and execute flawlessly because everyone's at the top of their game.

It's a team, I find myself repeating relentlessly.

And that never stops being true.

As well, the individual contributions of each member of that team goes beyond mere job description. 

And that definitely never stops being true.

Don't get me wrong. I love what I can do in my corner of a production. But. I get to do what I do best because I'm engaging professionalism, a profound quality of work, and a definite human touch that is a superpower in any profession: the ability to bring out the best in others. The absolute best. 

So.

Last night, the show BrainWorks: Vision and the Brain won an Emmy Award in the category of Children/Youth/Teens.

The show won the award. 

The show on which a team of us worked together, producing something of fun and energy and knowledge that none of us, not one.

Could have achieved on their own.

😊

#production #post production #team #colleagues #collaboration #emmy awards #awards #recognition #acknowledgement #working together #team effort #making each other better

[higruejay]

Friends I may never see again because you pretty much do not keep up with people you met in the hospital, but I cherish in my heart so deeply:

The girl I first met through hostility, dubbing her new name Spandex, until we learned we both were suicidal anorexics with anger problems. How we boooonnded and got to process our [stuff]

To the guy I first met as he sat perched on top as the cabinet, saving us as Spider-Man one minute and when the real evil came, full on Jedi. I bow to you. And we actually got to hang out after but he got married and I had to respect that. Great guy.

The guy on a mission to bring down the entire hospital complex after malpractice took his true loves life, one intense intense intense drawing at a time. I wish I still had the one you drew for me of the Reaper but you know, destruction…

To the woman with the most steadfast husband, having the time of her life in her Metallica beanie. We never got to do that clothing swap :-(

The guy who knew how to just step out of the matrix and hold down a wife, kids, and house. Through his shades he told no lies. We never got to start that fashion company….

The young man that dreamed of opening a Russian lounge and honestly was just enjoying the moment, enjoying the sun here and there.

My mother from another who taught me about bimbimbop(spelling?). Even though you were literally going through torture you were still soooo kind.

My GIRL, who would swipe swipe swipe that card and we’d be eating Pizza Hut, Chinese, whatever for nights, so hyped for dinner time. Then before bed we’d jam out to Final Countdown and remember how amazing we are. You were too good for that guy.

Gentle buddy in die hard love with that one celebrity and honestly is so talented might just met em one day. You taught me vision is so powerful but damn brain bleeding? Maybe gentle vision? Still, amazing.

My little sis, girl how you not goin eat IN the hospital, but yes girl, RADICAL ACCEPTANCE. I know that family of yours is still cherishing you. Reminds me, I need to find a new fantasy series, I should of wrote down your recommendations.

White girl. I’m sorry. I should of just braided your damn hair. You were so pure, I wish I could tell you I got a great paying job now! We never got to go out and turn up :-(

The seasoned, soon to be retired father and artist. Your mind is incredible. I really hope the sports thing worked out.

My maiiiinnn man, motorcycle man, you are a real one. I know they changed the rules solely because of you.

The old white man from the mountain. Scariest white man I’ve ever met, biggest heart I’ve ever met. Never sell my soul for fame. And I got your mocha! Man you saved my life!!!!!!!!!

Oh Mama, hustler, traveler, FRIEND. We never got to go to Vegas :-(. I miss our nail painting sessions and clipping things out the catalog. Bonding.

Hey man, who knows maybe we ARE robots… I don’t think so, but we had the best time watching movies and eating candy.

My girl Avacadoooooooo . Brandy’s true number one fan. May I flip a table as perfect as you one day, I too dream of putting a banger in his place if I’m ever disrespected. You are the most loving person I’ve ever met, your Mom is incredible.

My pastor, I’m telling you, you are a pastor. I don’t know if you’re back in Mexico but I never sit at a dominoes table the same anymore.

Buddy, YOU BETTER STILL BE SOBER, and I hope you got your love back, you never really lost her though… And yes, avacodooooooo absolutely scared the shit out of you.

The man with the feds, Hollywood, demonic/witchcraft babymama, and own parents against him. I will never stop fighting for my right to be treated right because of you.

My first friend from the system, yes get as far away from that family. You are the embodiment of patience and enduring.

Friend, I really hope you are making that dope chain mail, medieval stuff you love and MOVING your body, even if just a pinky and a leg stretch.

My DJ, I hope you still enjoy my playlist. I wish I remember what’s on there. I hope you’re doing something even better than what you lost.

Loverboy, white man soul you are smooth and hilarious, I hope you stopped being triflin and did right by that girl.

My boy, Kanye West’s only fan, Taylor Swift isn’t good enough, pure of heart and valor white boy. BASSNECTAR. We had the best jam sessions, I don’t think I’ve ever played the guitar as good as I did ever again after that.

The tranquil retired school teacher. I wish I had a teacher like you.

The traveler; some great conversations. No one vacations like you.

Friend, I really really really really really hope you’re ok and well. Needing a bulletproof vest is beyond my imagination.

I could cry thinking of you! Man you were right none of us stayed in touch yet I remember you giving another person money to help them on the outside, after having just met them like a week or two ago. Compassionate. And yes that one med was a game changer.

And not the last, certainly not the least, my spiritual mother, friend, teacher, healer, and stomp down a naysayer, [insert your spiritual name]. Woman. THANK YOU. You advocated for me, loved me, and saw my shine when I felt snuffed out. As I die one day I will remember dancing down the hallway in your fur coat. I really hope you are close to your family.

Soooook many souls, stories, and memories. Too bad a lot of them are blacked out.

[emilemily]

Came across screenshots in my cloud of our last conversation and it filled me with this heavy anger and feeling of unease

You so easily threw me aside without giving us the opportunity to discuss, to reach a common ground. I acted quickly and irrationally because I felt attacked seemingly out of nowhere. You had been sitting with these feelings for weeks and hadn’t shared them with me, so it caught me off guard

You didn’t give me the opportunity to even process and come back and be a bigger person. You took that opportunity from me and threw me away. You said things you can never take back. You said things that were so dismissive that it made my abandonment issues flare up and do the talking for me

You know how my past trauma affects me and you know that I need time to process. In the past I was always quick to explode, quick to jump into defensive mode. I wasn’t the most rational person in the entire world. I’ve worked on that more and as I’m aging I’m noticing that start to kind of round out

And lately sometimes I’ll catch myself really missing you. Missing our friendship. Missing the pure love I felt towards you, that special love I’ve only ever had for you despite any past relationships or friendships. I still feel that love for you. When people talk about their special person it always prompts my brain to contemplate you

The first person who ever truly loved me. The sweet voice and big heart and kindness. The person who had no problem telling me about my shortcomings, but knew when to back off and let me process. The patient man that assured me that no matter what would happen, I’d always have you. The person who apologized so sincerely for not being there for me when my dad died.

The last 6 months I’ve had some of the worst depression, anxiety, and suicidal ideation that I’ve ever experienced, even as a teen. I’ve had several bad nights where I wanted to go get a bottle and score some blow. In those moments I think of you extra because you were the person who cared about me most. Or maybe that’s just what I thought

But the truth is, everyone runs out of patience. Everyone falls out of love. Everyone reaches their limit. You did. The part that hurts me the most of all is that I’ll never understand exactly what led to that or why. The reasons you cited at the time were misconstrued on your part, and I didn’t even get the chance to explain because I was in full blown ‘abandon the person before they abandon you, take back your power’ mode

But why couldn’t we have just talked about it? Why couldn’t you have given me the opportunity to explain myself, reassure you? Why didn’t you communicate with me before blowing up? I’ll never understand. So many years lost

And I’ll be honest, it has gotten better with time, the Johnny sized hole in my heart. It is mending slowly. I won’t lie and say that my views on love haven’t changed, because they have. Everyone is expendable, even people who say they’ll always love you. No matter how long they back it up.

I don’t cry about you anymore. My moments of sorrow pass quicker as time goes on. I have accepted that you’re gone and now my heart is doing the hard work.

The love of my life will thank me for accepting this, for not desperately trying to reach you. Don’t ever let someone tell you they don’t want you twice.

Thinking of you today, but doing so much less solemnly as I did before. Progress is progress.

One day months will pass between thoughts of you and there will no longer be love in my heart for you. But for now, I’ll take what I can get.

Wishing you the best always, and praying to a god that doesn’t exist to rid my heart of you so that your rejection doesn’t sting anymore.

Em

[gplewis]

April 7, 2021

wondering if I’d rather be punished or healed. Maybe I don’t want to be healthy and good; maybe I want to be a maniac, someone normal people quote, writing for the audience’s Twitter feed, being someone they wouldn’t dare to be — perhaps this is what it means to never come down off the pedestal of distance; maybe the true writer can’t belong with the normal; I can never be what I see, I cannot treat myself to the delicacy of belonging in the mainstream; the unknown is the magnet and it’ll never be acceptable or maybe understood, included; maybe I don’t want inclusion, I think inclusion and community are fake, ultimately another picture to be sold and consumed; I wonder if the only true reality is this bitter biting down into my own reluctance to surrender and bitter truth that I know this is where I have pledged to live, to wring out my feelings as I stand at this uncomfortable distance, separated from God and love...and maybe like the earth orbits and tilts from the sun, I too must do my annual, periodic separation from God and love and report from where I am; my reporting job can never be easier and the job necessarily grows in difficulty as time and life go on. There is no prize for endurance except more truth which is necessarily exhausting, forcing you to take a difficult, unprecedented pivot alone with no one to comfort you yet; comfort yourself later, freeing others from the task — of course this separation from someone who wants to love me is not tenable; of course the question is “who is the book club you’ll share this with?” or “what reader?” I think in my practice, I must keep these questions from being answered; it can never be easy or straightforward, it must need to be reinvented when you get there; you can’t know what the step to take will be two steps ahead: all one does in life is move through the dark with no prior knowledge; it was never otherwise; this moment here and now is the only one, the true start *and* continuation; nothing has changed but you. This used to be romantic and maybe could be; perhaps this is the black and white code (left brain, masculine) and welcomes the intrusion of fire, water, color, sound, uninhibited joy and playful exploration, sensuality, all the offerings of the pure divine feminine which frankly I have been in a standoff and reevaluation with ~ they’re machines for disappointment and complaint; maybe doing the work of living together (by which I mean, any two people next to each other...see, this book is right, the only problem is separation from others and thinking about it, making sense of it, justifying it | this may not be profound enough to publish but anything I write is perfect. This is anything but cliched self-love; is self-love art? I don’t think so but I’m also not concerned, I’ve had years of dalliance with thinking about art and human expression and human necessity, now I am in a middle period of loss of awestruckness and more the messy middle of figuring out what to do with banality, repetition and endurance...write a book called The Problem of Endurance which also would be the problem of Me? It used to be The Game of You; maybe I can make it less lonely by playing it too ~ playing not to win but playing to play with the others because being looked at as good isn’t actually any fun, it’s about playing well with players you look. My problem has always been getting out of Alone.

[maybeijustwanttobeme]

Fear of the Knight: Prologue.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Female!Reader

Warning: parent abandonment.

Summary: Martha Wayne encourages friendship between Bruce and Y/N for personal reasons. She never imagined that her friendship could transcend anything else.

Notes: English is not my first language.

Masterlist: Fear of the Knight

I hope you enjoy it ⭐️

- Are you sure about what you're doing?

- Yes - said Martha Wayne pretty sure of herself, while she continued with the last touch of her perfect appearance.

- We are not in danger, my love. - Thomas said trying to calm her thoughts.

- Thomas, Gotham is becoming even more dangerous, and the family [Y/L] can be a good ally, especially for Bruce's future.

Martha had been thinking for weeks that the worst would come. The galas they attended suffocated her. Maroni and Falcone attended the last ones. The mere thought that those guys seeing her little Bruce at some point was eating her alive. It was enough knowing that they were watching her husband and her.

She needed at least one of the known families in Gotham somehow backing the Waynes. The problem was that there was no family in all Gotham more powerful than the Waynes.

She was very aware that her family was royalty in Gotham.

Alfred and Martha investigated the [Y/L] family. They had several family scandals, but no crimes were committed apparently. The biggest scandal was the abandonment of [Y/M]. The beautiful woman left her family without apparent reasons. The gossip was that she ran away with a lover.

She left behind a beautiful and cheerful girl, [Y/N]. Martha knew the little girl because she was in Bruce’s class, and her little prince had told her she was a good friend.

- You can not replace her mom.- Thomas said after a long silence.

- I don’t want to do it. I just want Bruce to have a friend with whom he grows up, and if at any time he needs anything, she would be there for him.

- He is already a Wayne. The world is his.

- It will give me peace to know that Bruce can have an ally in a family that reminds clean. He is already like a prince in the city, and I know I’ll never be able to protect him from everything, but I’d like to try it. Are you going to deny me that peace?

- I’ve never been able to deny you anything. I just want you to be sure because you’re going to practically adopt a girl.

- I know, but I'm sure of what I'm doing.

Thomas Wayne saw the determination in his wife. Martha had always been a very intelligent woman. People would underestimate her because they think she’s just Thomas Wayne’s wife, but she was the heart and brain of the family. No detail escaped her. All the actions she took were coldly calculated for the benefit of her family, especially her son. Thomas knew Martha loved him, but he never saw love as pure as Martha had for Bruce. Many took it as one of the most beautiful faces of the city and the one in charge of the charity of the city, and nothing more. Martha knew the importance of public image so she could pull strings without believing that innocent Martha Wayne could do something like that.

The view of the front room of her husband’s office was a spectacle. She felt she could see all the movements of the city. She liked to play with his pearl necklace to relax a little. She knew what she was doing was selfish, but Bruce was worth it; for him, she would do everything. Martha knew that [Y/F] would accept. Everyone wants to be around the Waynes. A sweet little voice pulled her out of her thoughts. Bruce ran to see her after his piano lessons.

- Mommy! Alfred told me that we'll have guests.

- My prince! Yes, your friend [Y/N] and her dad are coming today. I need you to be a good boy today, okay?

- Why are they coming?

- You know her mom is gone, and I want to help her.

- She has been sad at school, although she says she is not.

- We have to help the people we can, Bruce.

Alfred politely interrupted the conversation. He announced the arrival of the guests. Bruce rushed to meet his friend. While Martha took a deep breath, put on the best innocent face and rearranged her necklace.

Letting [Y/F] into the room, he watched closely the Wayne house.

He didn't know why Martha Wayne called him. He knew it could only be good news, it’s not like Thomas called him.

- Alfred, you think they can bring us the coffee service. Also, could you check the kids? You know Bruce can play a little rough sometimes, and we don’t want anything to happen to [Y/N].

Martha gave Alfred a look to be prepared for anything. She knew she could put her life in the hands of Alfred Pennyworth, and everything would be in order.

-Of course, ma'am.

She sat in front of [Y/F]. She tried to establish a small talk, but [Y/F] had no intention of having a banal conversation with Martha Wayne.

-Please, don’t misunderstand, Mrs. Wayne, but I don’t think you called me to talk about Gotham's weather.

-No, I want to offer you something a little unusual. As you know, I go to the kid's school several times to make sure everything is perfect, and I have seen [Y/N] sad. My son and his daughter are friends, and I'm worried about her. So, I thought she'd spend more time with us to lift her spirit.

-Are you telling me that I’m not a good father?

-Of course not. I’m just saying that I know that you are a very important gentleman and I just want to help a friend of my son.

[Y/F] could only think of Martha Wayne's naivety. She was such a rich lady, that basically just asked if his daughter was for sale.

[Y/F] loved his daughter, but he had always preferred a boy who could carry on his legacy. It was a unique opportunity; his daughter stuck to the Waynes.

-Well, as you know Mrs. Wayne, I am a family man, and to think that I have long left my daughter with nannies hurts me, but why should I leave her with you?

Martha knew she was asking what he would gain from leaving her daughter.

-Well, Mr. [Y/L], a girl always needs a female figure and much more within the elite in Gotham. Besides, their nannies aren’t the most discreet.

Martha Wayne had an ace on her sleeve. She gave him an envelope with some photos. The photos were little [Y/N] crying and a video of [Y/F] scolding his girl for wanting the attention that any kid needs. - The director of Gotham Gazette sent me this. He considered it a sensitive issue, and I asked him not to publish it. I think it's pretty clear that nannies can’t be exactly trusted with our kids all the time.

[Y/F] was surprised. Had Martha Wayne bought her nannies? Did he have staff working for the Waynes?

He knew that the Waynes owned the Gotham Gazette, and that was how Martha had prevented it from being published. What else would she have on him? Was it just a babysitter wanting to make money?

He could not read the expression of Martha Wayne.

She was inviting him to join her but knowing that she was the one in control of the situation.

-I think [Y/N] could use more time with you and Bruce.

Martha smiled. She knew her intention was very selfish. But she never knew that she achieved more than just a friendship.

#bruce wayne #batman #batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne imagine #battinson x reader #battinson #the batman #batmom #batman fic #batman x batmom

[thebibliosphere]

So I'm currently unemployed because I got fired for taking too much sick leave (it was legally sketchy blah blah blah but in the end I just can't work and take care of myself and investigate my mystery health problems at the same time). So I've been spending more time writing!

I really admire your writing and loved Hunger Pangs. I'm looking forward to the poly elements developing and I'm wondering if you have any advice for writing about poly. I've made one of my projects a snarky take on "write what you know" ... Apparently what I know is southern gothic meets Pacific northwest gothic, chronic illness pandemic surrealism, and falling back-asswards into threesomes.

I know this is a very open-ended question and I don't expect an answer, I'm just curious about it if you have the energy. As a writer, trying to write honestly / realistically about polyamory/enm, I'm curious if you have any thoughts on what's different about portraying monogamy or nonmonogamy in books, romance or erotica or otherwise.

I'm trying to read examples but it's hard to find examples that fit the niche I'm looking at. Excuse me if this question is nonsense, it's the cluster headaches.

I'm sorry to hear you've been dealing with all that and solidarity on the cluster headaches. But I'm glad you're finding an outlet through writing! And I hope you're happy with an open-ended ramble in response because oh boy, there's a lot I could talk about and I could probably do a better job of answering this sort of thing with more specific questions, but let's see where we end up.

There's definitely a big difference between writing polyamory/ENM (ethical non-monogamy) and what people often expect from monogamous love stories.

Just even from a purely sales and marketing standpoint, the moment you write anything polyamorous (or even just straight up LGBTQIA+ without the ENM) you're going to get considered closer to being erotica/obscene than hetero romances. It's an unfair bias, but it's one that exists in our society. But also the Amazon algorithm and their shitty, shitty human censors. Especially the ones that work the weekends. (Talking to you, Carlos 🖕.)

So not only do you start out hyper-aware that you're writing something that is highly stigmatized or fetishized (at least I'm hyper-aware) but that you are also writing for a niche market that is starving for positive content because the content that exists is either limited, not what they want, or is problematic in some fashion i.e. highly stigmatized or fetishy. And even then, the wants, desires, and expectations of the community you're writing for are complex and wildly varied and hard to fit into an easy formula.

When writing monogamous love stories, there is a set expectation that’s really hard to fuck up once you know it. X person meets Y. Attraction happens, followed by some sort of minor conflict/resolution. Other plot may happen. A greater catalyst involving personal growth for both parties (hopefully) happens. Follow the equation to its ultimate resolution and achieve Happily Ever After. 

But writing ENM is... a lot more difficult, if only because of the pure scope of possibilities. You could try to follow the same equation and shove three (or more) people into it, but it rarely works well. Usually because if you’re doing it right, you won’t have enough room in a single character arc to allow for enough growth, and if ENM requires anything in abundance, it’s room to grow.

And this post is huge so I’m going to put the rest under a cut :)

There's also a common refrain in certain online polyam/ENM circles that triads and throuples are overrepresented in media and they may be right to some extent. Personally, I believe the issue isn't that triads and throuples are overrepresented, but that there is such minuscule positive rep of ethical non-monogamy in general, that the few tiny instances we have of triads in media make it seem like it's "everywhere" when in actuality, it's still quite rare and the media we do have often veers into Unicorn Hunter fetish porn. Which is its own problematic thing. And just to be clear, I’m not including this part to dissuade you from writing "falling back-asswards into threesomes." If anything, I need more of it and would hook it directly into my brain if I could. I'm just throwing it out there into the void in the hope that someone will take the thought and run with it, lol.

I’d love to see more polyfidelitous rep in fiction, just as much as I’d like to see more relationship anarchy too. More diversity in fiction is always good.

Another thing that differs in writing ENM romance vs conventional monogamy is the feeling like you need to justify yourself. There's a lot of pressure to be as healthy and non-problematic as possible because you are being held to a higher standard of criticism. Both from people from without the ENM communities, and from the people within. Granted, some people don't give a shit and just want to read some fantastic porn (valid) but there are those who will cheerfully read Fifty Shades of Bullshit and call it "spicy" and "romantic," then turn around and call the most tooth-rottingly-sweet-fluff about a queer platonic polycule heresy. That's just the way the world works.

(Pro-tip for author life in general: never read your own reviews; that way madness lies. I glimpsed one the other day that tagged Hunger Pangs as “ethical cheating” and just about had an aneurism.)

And while that feeling of needing to justify yourself comes from a valid place of being excluded from the table of socially accepted norms, it can also be to the detriment of both the story and the subject matter at hand. I've seen some authors bend so far over backward to avoid being problematic in their portrayal of ENM, they end up being problematic for entirely different reasons. Usually because they give such a skewed, rose-tinted perspective of how things work, it ends up coming off as well... a bit culty and obnoxious tbh.

“Look how enlightened we are, freed from the trappings of monogamy and jealousy! We’re all so honest and perfect and happy!”

Yeah, uhu, sure Jan. Except here’s the thing, not all jealousy is bad. How you act on it can be, but jealousy itself is an important tool in the junk drawer that is the range of human emotion. It can clue us in to when we’re feeling sad or neglected, which in turn means we should figure out why we’re feeling those things. Sometimes it’s because brains are just like that and anxiety is a thing. Other times it’s because our needs are actually being neglected and we are in an unhealthy situation we need to remedy. You gotta put the work in to figure it out. Which is the same as any style of relationship, whether it’s mono, polyam or whatever flavor of ENM you subscribe to* And sometimes you just gotta be messy, because that’s how humans are. Being afraid to show that mess makes it a dishonest portrayal, and it also robs you of some great cannon fodder for character development.

Which brings me in a roundabout way to my current pet peeve in how certain writers take monogamous ideals and apply them to ENM, sometimes without even realizing it. The “Find the Right Person and Settle Down” trope.

Often, in this case, ENM or polyamory is treated as a phase. Something you mature out of with age or until you meet “The One(tm).” This is, of course, an attempt to follow the mono style formula expected in most romances. And while it might appeal to many readers, it’s uh, actually quite insulting. 

To give an example, I am currently seeing this a lot in the Witcher fandom. 

Fanon Netflix!Jaskier is everyone's favorite ethical slut until he meets Geralt then woops, wouldn’t you know, he just needed to find The One(tm). Suddenly, all his other sexual and romantic exploits or attractions mean nothing to him. Let's watch as he throws away a core aspect of his personality in favor of a man. 

Yeah... that sure showed those societal norms... 

If I were being generous, I’d say it’s a poor attempt at showing New Relationship Euphoria and how wrapped up people can become in new relationships. But honestly, it’s monogamous bias eking its way in to validate how special and unique the relationship is. Because sometimes people really can’t think of any other way to show how important and valid a relationship is without defining it in terms of exclusivity. Which is a fundamental misunderstanding of how ENM works for a lot of people and invalidates a lot of loving, serious and long-term relationships.

This is not to say that some polyam/poly-leaning people can't be happy in monogamous relationships! I am! (I consider myself ambiamorous. I'm happy with either monogamy or polyamory, it really just depends on the relationship(s) I’m in.) But I also don't regard my relationship with a mono partner as "settling down" or "growing up." It's just a choice I made to be with a person I love, and it's a valid one. Just like choosing to never close yourself off to multiple relationships is valid. And I wish more people realized that, or rather, I wish the people writing these things knew that :P

Anyway, I think I’ve rambled enough. I hope this collection of incoherent thoughts actually makes some sense and might be useful. 

----

*A good resource book that doesn't pull any punches in this regard is Polysecure by Jessica Fern. It's a wonderfully insightful read that explores the messier side of consensual non-monogamy, especially with how it can be affected by trauma or inter-relationship conflicts. But it also shows how to take better steps toward healthy, ethical non-monogamy (a far better job than More Than Two**) and conflict resolution, making it a valuable resource both for someone who is a part of this relationship style***, but also for writers on the outside looking in who might have a very simple or misguided idea of what conflict within polyam/ENM relationships might look like, vs traditional monogamous ones.

** The author of More Than Two has been accused of multiple accounts of abuse within the polyamorous community, with many of his coauthors having spoken out about the gaslighting and emotional and psychological damage they experienced while in a relationship with him. A lot of their stories are documented here: https://www.itrippedonthepolystair.com/ (warning: it is not light material and deals with issues of abuse, gaslighting, and a whole other plethora of Yikes.) While some people still find More Than Two helpful reading, there are now, thankfully, much, much better resources out there.

*** Some people consider polyam/ENM to be part of their identity or orientation, while others view it as a relationship style.It largely depends on the individual. 

#long post #writing #ethical non-monogamy #relationship styles #relationship models in fiction #also that kindle link is an affiliate link #because fuck giving amazon free recs

[chironshorseass]

You’re my favorite person for when it comes to Powerful!Percy (your thing about Percy’s fight with Hyperion is chef’s kiss), so I was wondering what your thoughts were on Percy blowing up Mt. Saint Helen’s on accident. He really did cause a quarter million to be evacuated and almost destroyed the Northwest United States unintentionally. I Stan.

thank you!! i’m glad you like my takes because apparently everyone gets brain rot from them and we love that 💅

i’ve said this mainly in my take about hyperion but i also mention it in the one about percy fearing water, and my initial post, that i headcanon or more so i point out how percy is the ocean.

and for the mt. saint helen thing...it’s so crazy that so many of percy’s most important moments when it comes to his powers have been on accident. or, well...it’s more so that that’s how it looks like. because rereading that scene again, he kind of knew what he was doing. at least, he willingly unleashed the power that potentially created an exploding volcano.

this was one of those moments when he realizes just how much he’s capable of. the sea is inside him. all he had to do was let go. and that’s exactly what he did. so yeah, ok this time i checked, and THIS confirms my entire theory and i am losing my mind bc why do ppl not talk about this:

(this is, in context, the part where percy has to clean the stables in that ranch and talks to the naiad of the river nearby who gives him some advice)

and this naiad literally compares herself to percy. she says, “the water is within me. it is my life source.” and then proceeds to become part of the river itself. like hey!!! what if percy could do that??

and hey???? what if he did? what if he became actual water at some point?

and examining the scene of when he blows up the volcano, this is what happens:

in that moment of panic, of helplessness, he calls to the sea. he searches deep within himself. because this is what the naiad told him, which is what i’ve been saying this entire damn time!!!

and here’s the best part, which is where i’m coming from, saying that he became the water itself. at least in my interpretation:

“I shot upward from the heart of the volcano in a huge explosion, just one piece of flotsam thrown free by a million pounds of pressure.”

and we could infer that he was just thrown up in the air like trash, but i think it’s more than that. the sea is within me. again, this is what he literally says. it is CANON that he unleashed the raw, PURE power of the ocean. he became the ocean. he was part of that water mixing with the lava—because he is the ocean.

which is another thing, people debate that this is one of the only times percy demonstrates that he can cause an earthquake, and...i unfortunately have to disagree. don’t get me wrong, i love the idea of percy having dominion over the earth and totally accept it as canon with my whole heart, but it isn’t what happened here. this explosion happened because an enormous amount of water created enough pressure to make a fucking volcano explode.

and how can anyone do that if their life source wasn’t linked to the sea? how could he summon that water? that strength? because that’s what he did: he SUMMONED WATER in the middle of a VOLCANO!!! and then he proceeded to merge himself with said water. this actually reminds me of nico di angelo’s case, because he can become a literal shadow. i’m pretty sure there was this whole thing in boo where he’s kind of permanently becoming part of the darkness. so why not percy? why not have him be like that naiad, who’s life source comes from water? that’s basically what’s going on here.

and i am also considering this as a fact (yes, yes it is), because when he arrives at calypso’s island, he is on death’s door. just like nico was when he first shadow traveled. of course, there’s the part where he was thrown off the face of the earth and nearly burned alive, BUT that wasn’t his problem at all!! because leo was also thrown into ogygia, and he wasn’t in such horrible shape. the burns shouldn’t have hindered him as much, because he is still poseidon’s son—and besides, when he summoned that water, it should have healed him to some degree. no no no, he nearly died because of the way that he almost burned himself out, nearly wasted his entire life source, poured it all out into that volcano and just. became water himself. THAT’S what happened. THAT’S why hephaestus was like, “you don’t know your own strength.”

this is just the tip of the iceberg. who knows how much the ocean affects percy and how much he can affect it. would his mood change with the tides? with a storm? and what if he tries this again? what if he tries this unleashing of his own self? what if he tries to melt into water, just to see how it goes? can he willingly do it, or would that cost him just as much as that time in mt. saint helens? WHEN, i repeat WHEN are we going to see this again??? but no, we won’t see this again. rick didn’t give it to us and he never will, so i have to do all the dirty work😤

#anon #mari's ted talks #pjo #tbotl #percy jackson #powerful percy jackson #dark percy #dark!percy #the battle of the labyrinth #im posting it rn apparently i get brain rot at midnight #also thx anon! my take is here and im kind of👁👄👁 myself #ask tag🤠

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 318: On Your Left

Previously on BnHA: The Hawksquad+Lurkers were all “well this sucks” and sat around a bit talking about how maybe they should actually come up with a new plan that is actually good, but then in the end they were like “nah.” Deku was all, “THERE’S SOMETHING INSIDE ME THAT PULLS BENEATH THE SURFACE!! CONSUMING, CONFUSING!! THIS LACK OF SELF CONTROL I FEAR IS NEVERENDING. IT’S HAUNTING HOW I CANT SEEM TO FIND MYSELF AGAIN. MY WALLS ARE CLOSING IN.” Just, literally that whole entire song. All Might was all “Deku you should take care of yourself, try eating a thing,” and Deku was all “BYE, ALL MIGHT,” and just LEFT. He left!!! What the fuck!!!

Today on BnHA: Endeavor is all, “maybe if Deku didn’t listen to All Might he’ll listen to me instead.” Deku is all, “[doesn’t listen to Endeavor]” because, well, yeah. The Vestiges are all, “surprisingly, even we are a little concerned -- maybe you should get some rest, kid.” Deku is all, “((Ò ‸ Ó)).” The Vestiges are all, “holy shit.” Deku is all, “[wanders the ruined city streets terrifying the populace on account of him looking like Shelob had a baby with one of the Nazgul].” Some shriveled-up puppeteer villain asshole is all, “HORIKOSHI SAID IT’S MY TURN TO ATTACK DEKU TODAY SO I AM GOING TO SUMMON MY FRIGHTENED HELPLESS ATTACK MOB!!” Kacchan is all “WHADDYA MEAN THEY FOUND THE NERD!!! -- oh wait, that’s me, I found him. I found the nerd, you guys.” And just in time, too. I was about to owe a whole lot of people a whole lot of dollars.

so I have been super good about spoilers this week as always, but let me tell you guys, for the past 36 hours my dash filters have basically been nonstop “manga spoilers” this and “bnha 318” that, and so I’m coming in with a fair amount of hype here. your move, Horikoshi

oh, good! they got Endeavor to call Deku to try to talk him out of it. what a great and wonderful plan

“listen up kid, you haven’t slept since March and you are basically a walking biohazard right now, I’m just telling it like it is. didn’t you get shot like three times?? and there was a whole thing about how you urgently needed medical attention?? and supposedly we gave it to you, but I mean you haven’t even changed your clothes and don’t seem to have any fresh bandages or anything, so did we?? did we, really?? and also we all got blown up yesterday, so yeah.” hmm he’s making some reasonable points here you guys, but you sure do go on and on, Endeavor

oh he says foreign aid is finally on its way! I’m sure they’ll be very helpful. I mean in fairness they can hardly be worse than the home-grown heroes at this point

hey Enji, could you maybe try appealing to Deku the sixteen-year-old human boy, as opposed to Deku The World’s Last Hope? he does have value beyond his quirk. I know that’s always been an incredibly difficult concept for you to grasp, but could you maybe TRY, jesus

and also we’re worried about you as a person?? you’re just a kid and you’re pushing yourself way too hard?? you were going to say that part next, right. why the hell didn’t Hawks make this call instead

“don’t worry about me... I’m completely fine” Deku you do understand that saying it over and over again doesn’t actually make it true

and again with the rush!! all the rush rush rush!! we’re running out of time, we can’t let AFO and Tomura keep getting stronger, I have to end this now, there’s no time to rest, etc. etc. etc. just the constant pressure of this whole big countdown on top of everything else

holy shit, you KNOW it’s bad when even the Vestiges are telling him to chill

these guys are basically the walking talking embodiments of self-sacrifice; if even they’re telling him he needs to take five, then he must seriously be like half a step away from death’s door

OH SHIT LMAO

DIDN’T EVEN LET HIM FINISH HIS SENTENCE BEFORE HE SENT HIM INTO THE FUCKING SHADOW REALM WITH THAT FUCKING LOOK. HOLY FUCK. DIDN’T EVEN KNOW IT WAS POSSIBLE TO DIE TWICE. SHIT

(ETA: so I’m pretty sure this was just Danger Sense activating and so he cut them off to go do more hero stuff, but I’m gonna go ahead and stick to my original interpretation anyway lol.)

anyway so how’s everybody doing. we all good? En, you good? Banjou? Shino? I’m imagining you guys all curled up in a little ball on the floor right now lol. can’t say I blame you though, no shame

lmaoooooooooooo

“SHEESH.” sheesh indeed, lmao. “what in the FUCK was that”

see, this is why y’all need Kacchan. you need someone who’s not going to back down from him no matter what. if it’s a matter of out-stubborning Midoriya fucking Izuku, then there’s only one other person on the planet capable of that, and we all know it. don’t pretend like you don’t. I am not going to shut up about this! we’ve had our hurt so now what about SOME COMFORT, DAMMIT

“I’m afraid that he’s becoming influenced by my conscience” nah are you kidding Nana this is all 100% made-in-Japan pure original Deku right here

see, Banjou gets it. “that kid, he’s totally going on his own.” exactly. this was so inevitable it was basically scientific law

“well I for one don’t see the problem with Deku being so obsessed with saving everyone else that he pushes himself until his body and soul literally fall apart” okay, whose speech bubbles are these?? we’re about to have words

lol of course

well you always did prefer the direct route didn’t you. but even you can’t possibly think this is okay lol

dark AU!Kacchan please tell us more about your badass doomed timeline in which everything went to shit and you apparently had the same character arc that Deku is having right now except it somehow made you sexier instead of turning you into a rabid t-rex. I have so many questions

oh so now you want to help??? well -- good, actually. sorry if that sounded offended just now lol

(ETA: so at first when I got to the end of this chapter I was wondering if Katsuki B. had somehow summoned his alternate-universe counterpart through trippy OFA space telepathy lol. but in the original Japanese there’s no reference to “we”, so this appears to be a mistranslation. this line should probably read more like “if there’s something/someone out there that would be able to complement/complete the current Midoriya Izuku [it would be]…” which, oh hello, is that Horikoshi once again reaffirming that Deku and Bakugou complete each other lol. “guess what guys, the Vestiges ship it too" heck yeah. they know what’s up!)

look how admiring his boyfriends are. HORIKOSHI GIVE US THE REST OF THIS BACKSTORY ALREADY GODDAMMIT

“meanwhile somewhere in the depths of the ruined city, Deku was having a dance-off with the villains”

I like how the villains all have this “AHH WHAT THE FUCK” kind of body language to them lol. I mean if it were me, and an eldritch horror suddenly clawed its way from the shadows with its writhing glowy tentacles and pants-shitting nuclear death stare, I would probably just die on the spot. no need to stick around. only pain awaits

lol for a minute I thought this was Can’t Ya See-kun and I was like “WHAT A FASCINATING CROSSING OF PATHS” but it’s just some random girl

he seems genuinely confused lol

Deku it’s because you look like something that crawled out of a sewer drain, sweetheart

lol they just took his word for it?

so trusting. even though they’re immediately hauling ass anyway just to be safe lmao

“my appearance is frightening to others” no shit Deku it’s because you look like a fucking alien exorcism. you look like a Lich that got caught up in an oil spill my dude

NO NOT THE CHOSEN ONE ANGST AGAIN

I RAN OUT OF ESSAY JUICE FOR THIS ALREADY HORIKOSHI!! I’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT IT FOR MONTHS NOW WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG!! BUT ANYWAYS, GOOD!! I MEAN, BAD, THOUGH, OBVIOUSLY. BUT YES

“ENJOY THIS MONTAGE OF DEKU BATTLING A RANDOM KAIJU AND WANDERING THE WOODS LIKE A DERANGED GREEN BABA YAGA” okay yes but sir, exactly how much longer is this going to go on. if it’s a matter of you wanting to make sure we get it, let me assure you that aside from a few stray chuunis who think that Deku embracing the Darkness is the coolest thing he’s ever done, all of us here in fandom fully comprehend that this is Not Good

-- OH SO IT’S LIKE THAT

really. with the flashbacks to his loved ones’ smiling faces and everything. not even gonna try to aim above the belt, huh

AND NO KACCHAN??! NO CLASSMATES?!?! IS HE PURPOSELY NOT THINKING OF THEM??? OR ARE THEY BEING SAVED FOR THE NEXT PAGE??? SO HELP ME, IF THE NEXT PART OF THIS SENTENCE IS “CAN PROTECT THEM”, OR EVEN WORSE, “CAN SEE THEIR SMILING FACES AGAIN”, I...

WHAT DID I JUST SAY

(ETA: my man did Sero and Kaminari fucking dirty lmao. I miss their smiling faces too omg.)

the sheer, unparalleled irony of him saying this while he stands there looking like the gargoyle demon from Fantasia got crossed with an umbrella that got struck by lightning. Deku :(

oi who the fuck is this clown

is he controlling this mob with his evil hair. “what if I made an exhausted, running-on-fumes Deku battle a brainwashed mob at Ground Zero.” Horikoshi do you just have like a checklist of horrible things you want to do to your protagonist

easy there Sasori

well joke’s on you buddy because he’s apparently “completely fine”, so

“here’s to hoping that you know more about AFO’s location than the others” jesus christ Deku you really have hung your mercy out to dry huh

now he’s forcing his mob of terrified prisoners to attack Deku ahhhh. sucks to be them. at least they’re not being controlled by bees

so Deku is saying that Sasori’s control can be broken with “physical trauma.” similar to Shinsou’s quirk I guess. but so does that mean he’s gonna have to hurt them? ( •﹏•)

NO NOT MORE SAD EYES

“DEATH BY EMPATHY!!!” HORIKOSHI NO

fuck. he looks like he’s on the verge of passing out

this is what happens when you nerf a character’s self-preservation stats in favor of spamming their bone-breaking stats instead. NOW ACCEPTING BRAIN CELL DONATIONS FOR A BOY IN NEED!! with your loving generosity we can hopefully help him live to the ripe old age of seventeen

OMGFGGG

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

[grabs your hands] ლ(*꒪ヮ꒪*)ლ [swings you in a circle] へ(ﾟ◇ﾟへ)

THASSSSSSSS WHATSSSSSSS UPPPPPPPPPP

HORIKOSHI REALLY SAID FUCK THAT MASK (ノ°ο°)ノ YOU FINALLY LEARNED!! IT’S CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!!!!

JUST FOR YOU KACCHAN, HORIKOSHI LEFT THIS ONE BAD GUY WHO’S STILL WEAK TO FIRE. GOD BLESS

IT’S YOUR COUNTERPART, KATSUKI B!!!! HOW WE DOIN OVER THERE IN THE TRIPPY COSMIC OFA SPACE REALM LOL. DO WE BELIEVE YET, FANDOM???

LIGHTS!!!!

INSTANT RESULTS!!! IT’S SUPER EFFECTIVE!!!

(ETA: imagine what this must look like to Deku though. he’s been caught up in this dark cloud of despair and exhaustion that’s been building up over... I’m gonna go ahead and say “weeks”, because yeah. and now he finds himself here, in the place where All Might’s legacy ended and the torch was passed to him. and the world is in ruins, and he’s surrounded by frightened people who are all trying to hurt him -- because who isn’t trying to hurt him, these days -- and he’s scrambling to figure this all out, but meanwhile the weariness is finally starting to catch up to him, and so he’s basically just standing there in a fog of complete and utter misery.

and then all of a sudden through that haze, he hears the one voice that’s more familiar than any other that he knows. like, I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he thought he was just imagining it at first. Kacchan showing up to save him right when he’s at his most desperate and feeling the most alone. Kacchan, showing up to save him.

this is the person he always looked up to as a child (to be fair he was quite a strange child lmao). the person who was even closer to him than All Might. the person he always thought was amazing. and bam, here he is now. appearing in the sky out of nowhere to one-shot the bad guy with a single blast (which, btw, that was his armor-piercing attack too lmao dslkjlk take it easy there kiddo). like, that must have felt absolutely surreal to him, especially coming at a time when he’s already half-delirious and barely hanging on to reality. he must have really thought that he was losing it there for a second.

but he’s really there. it really is him. and for this brief moment -- before the rest of the situation catches up to him, and he remembers about all of the fucked-up AFO stuff, and remembers why he was so afraid and why he was pushing everyone away -- for just this one brief moment, he’s too exhausted and stunned to do anything except to just react. just stands there, looking up at him in awe.

and you know, it almost reminds me of...

just. you guys. the character development. the freaking character development. someone who brings reassurance. someone who shows up and makes you think, “oh, it’s all going to be okay now, because [person] is here.” the role reversals. the growth. the payoff!! because who is the one person who always had faith that Kacchan would one day grow up to become an amazing hero like that. WHO IS IT. YOU ALREADY KNOW.

omg. anyways, bless you Horikoshi, my feels which have been on backorder since fucking September have finally arrived lmao. yes, good, thank you. worth the wait. it is always, always worth the wait. fuck yeah.)

“LOWFRIES” SO YOU’RE TELLING ME THE WHOLE GANG IS HERE, AHHHHHHHH (º̩̩́⌣º̩̩̀ )

BEAUTIFUL. WONDERFUL. SENSATIONAL. I DON’T EVEN CARE THAT JUMP IS ON BREAK NEXT WEEK. THIS RIGHT HERE WILL SUSTAIN ME

#bnha 318 #midoriya izuku #BAKUGOU KATSUKI #!!!! #twowy mctwoface #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha meta #bakudeku #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

[arvinsescape]

Free

A/N: I finally got my new laptop and was able to write again so I wrote an idea that’s been in my head for a while, it’s loosely inspired by Luther, a series that I’ve re watched recently, I hope you all enjoy.

Summary: Tom just knows you had something to do with your husbands murder. His problem? He can’t prove it.

Warnings: Swearing. Smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up, condoms are a barrier from many things), oral (Fem receiving), mentions of murder, talks of an abusive relationship. (Minors do not engage). I think that’s all.

This is purely a work of fiction. I accept constructive criticism. 

W/C: 3.6K

You were driving Tom insane, he knew, in his gut, he was so sure that you had something to do with your husband’s disappearance. The case had landed itself on his desk when missing persons had deemed it a murder case, even without a body. Could he find the hard evidence that linked you to the murder? No. Was he sure it was you? A thousand per cent. Your case had been dropped months ago but he couldn’t get it or you out of his head.

“Tell me what happened?” Tom asked as he sat opposite you for the first time.

“I’ve already answered all of these questions.” You replied, Tom could tell you were nervous, you had a hard expression, but he saw straight through it.

“I don’t believe some of the answers that you gave.” He said as interlocked his hands on the desk, leaning slightly closer to you.

“I’m not really bothered what you believe, it’s what happened.” You fired back.

“People don’t just disappear.”

“Sure, they do. That’s what missing person’s is for, right?” You said as you cocked an eyebrow at him and he almost smiled, slightly enamored by the way you were handling his questioning. He’d gained a reputation for getting people to crack, but you? You seemed unfazed by his line of questioning.

Ultimately Tom had had to let you go because he couldn’t find the evidence, he needed to convict you. It drove him mad, it had him stumped for months just trying to figure out how you’d done it. How you’d evaded his thorough analysis of your property and workplace. You were smart, that was glaringly obvious to him, every time he thought he’d found something, he came up short.

A week ago, he’d found himself with a similar case on his desk, only this time the body was found. Again, there wasn’t much evidence but there were so many similarities between your case and this one. He found himself up for hours cross referencing your case file and this one, although the woman they suspected this time wasn’t as intelligent as you were, she’d lied about her alibi. Unlike you she’d said she was with a friend who denied it. You on the other hand had said you were at home all day and he couldn’t confirm that as truth and so this evidence became inadmissible in court.

He’d found himself on your doorstep, almost wanting to beg for your help, it was strange, he’d never felt like he needed anyone else’s help before yet here he was outside your door.

“Detective Holland. A man I thought I’d never seen again.” You said once you opened your door. He couldn’t help but note how beautiful you looked, he shook the thought away as he showed his badge and entered your home.

“Mrs. Leigh, I need your help.” He said in a matter-of-fact manner, he noted the small smile that had appeared on your lips and fought his own back, yours was so contagious.

“It’s Miss L/N now.” You politely corrected him.

“My apologies.”

“What could you possibly need my help with?”

“A case I’m trying to solve.”

“Forgive me but I’m not sure how I could be of help to you.” You said with furrowed brows.

“I think you could.”

He talked you through the case and his theories, all the holes in stories and suspicious behavior and you just drank it all in, nodding in certain places but ultimately you kept quiet. It wasn’t until e was done that you spoke.

“I mean, and this is all hypothetical, you’d hide the weapon in plain sight.” You answered as you made your way over to your fridge.

“That would be stupid though.” Tom said confidently, there was no way he’d missed something that was in plain sight. He watched as you pulled the bottle of wine from the fridge with a sigh. What had urged you to help him was beyond you, but a part of you knew that your case still haunted him, and you somehow felt guilty for it.

“People like you will always overlook stupid.” You said with a confidence he couldn’t quite place.

“So, you’re saying if someone wanted to hide evidence, they’d do it in plain sight because we’d overlook it?” Tom was bewildered, there was no way that this could be true, he’d spent hours going over the case files, there’s no way he missed such major evidence such as the murder weapon. He watched as you nodded mindlessly before digging through the drawer for a bottle opener.

“The autopsy report indicates a stab wound to the neck.” He continued. “They bled out. I’ve searched that house and I couldn’t find a single knife small enough to fit that wound.” He spoke. He knew the evidence for this case was in the house, the timing of everything would not have given the perpetrator any time to hide evidence away from the house.

He watched as you took the cork out of the bottle, once you’d removed the cork you placed the bottle opener on the counter, the tiny blade used for taking the paper lining off the bottle top was shining at him, almost mocking him.

“I could think of a few.” You hummed as you filled a wine glass. Tom was filled with excitement as he realized you were right, the small knife was easily concealed within the opener, he had overlooked it, not thought for a second that such a small knife was in the most basic household item.

“All I need to do is tie the murder weapon to her and case closed.” He beamed and you smiled, genuinely smiled for the first time since Tom had met you and he couldn’t help but return it, he really was enamored with you.

“Case closed.” You smiled as you sipped from your wine glass.

You had started to infect the young detective’s thoughts in a different way. He used to obsess over how you’d done it and now he was more obsessed as to why. He couldn’t understand how a woman like you, who was so quiet, kind and charismatic could have harmed another person. He started to wonder if he was wrong, if you’d had anything to do with it at all but his gut told him you did.

All the evidence for his current case came together and the victim’s wife had gone to prison for his murder, pleading guilty. She’d killed him because she wanted his money. He thought back to your case, your husband had had a lot of money, but he couldn’t see that being your motive, he couldn’t think of anything that would motivate you to murder someone. Over the time it took him to gather the evidence, he’d sought out your help more than once and he’d become enchanted by you, he found you intriguing, he wanted to get to know you better.

He wondered if that was what had brought him to your doorstep yet again. He should have been out celebrating the win, but he found himself outside your door. He knocked and wondered if you’d answer, it was late, he noted but he found himself hoping you’d open your door for him. When he heard the lock click his heart raced with excitement, he hoped you’d have that lovely smile on your face that you always had.

“Detective.” You smiled and he laughed.

“Tom.” He corrected and you smiled wider at him.

“What brings you to my doorstep Tom?”

“I wanted to thank you.”

“Thank me?”

“I’m not sure I’d have found that evidence had it not been for our chat, so thank you.”

“Well, you’re welcome. Did you want to come in? I’ve just opened a bottle of red.” You asked with that oh so contagious smile.

“How could I refuse?” He said as he made his way passed you and into the living room that he’d become so familiar with.

A bottle of red wine shared between the two later had them both feeling slightly tipsy. Tom knew he should probably make a move, but he didn’t want to, not unless you wanted him to. He found he very much enjoyed your company and wanted to stay in it as long as possible.

“Thank you for helping me finish the wine.” You smiled.

“Favor returned?” He smirked and you laughed.

“Sure. I suppose I won’t see you now.” You thought aloud.

“I suppose not.” He said, you’d moved closer to each other now, faces inches apart. “Unless you want to help me solve more cases.” He continued.

“I don’t think you’ll need my help again.” You said quietly, eyes flicking from each other’s eyes to each other’s lips.

“You never know.” He answered as quietly as you had. Tom licked his lips in anticipation, he probably shouldn’t be entertaining the idea of kissing you, but he couldn’t help it. You hummed in response as your noses brushed one an other’s. He couldn’t stop himself as he closed the small distance between you.

Your lips met in a desperate kiss, his hands finding your hair as you fisted his shirt in a desperate attempt to pull him closer to you. His mind felt blank as he became completely consumed by thoughts of you and what he wanted to do to you. He’d found you attractive the second he’d brought you in for questioning all those months ago but the more he’d gotten to know you the more he found you attractive. The rational part of his brain that was telling him this might be dangerous shut off as bit your bottom lip and you moaned slightly.

Your lips disconnected as you both needed air, both as breathless as each other. You looked at him and the look in your eyes drove him wild, your beautiful eyes were looking back at him completely list blown. He reconnected your lips as you straddled him, his hands finding your waist, lifting your shirt slightly to feel your skin.

“Bedroom?” He asked through a breath as your lips briefly disconnected.

“Upstairs, third door on the right.” You said quickly before reconnecting your lips, the kiss was hot and heavy as Tom stood, carrying you effortlessly to your bedroom, not breaking the kiss for a second. As soon as he found himself in your room, you both fell onto the bed, Tom’s back hitting the mattress. He almost moaned as you rocked your hips into his, the friction causing him to stiffen even more than he thought possible.

“You’re so fucking hot.” He said as he sat up, his lips connecting with your neck. You rolled your head back to give him more access and he took the opportunity to trail kisses down your throat, listening to the small gasps you were exhaling. He was more aroused than he’d ever been in his life, he felt completely drunk off you.

“Tom, I really want you to fuck me.” You spoke and Tom groaned at the filthy words that left your mouth, he wasn’t expecting it.

“Wanna taste you first.” He spoke as he flipped you both over, your back easily hitting the mattress as your lips reconnected. He trailed kisses down your neck as his hands went to the hem of your shirt, pulling it from you effortlessly. He unclipped your bra and threw both your shirt and bra onto the floor. Kissing down your chest as he took a nipple into his mouth, slightly grazing it with his teeth before licking and sucking at it.

Your moans grew louder, and Tom found himself entranced by the sounds you were making, he doesn’t recall ever being with anyone who sounded as pretty as you did. He continued his attention on your nipples, switching from one to the other.

“Tom, please.” You begged and he smirked against your skin.

“What?” He asked as he made eye contact with you, his fingers moving to roll your nipple.

“I need you to move lower.” You moaned.

“Whatever you want baby.” He spoke as he placed a final kiss to your breast before moving down your body.  

He quickly removed your shorts and groaned when he realized you didn’t have underwear on. He looked at your glistening heat and almost moaned at how wet you were for him.

“So wet, look at this.” He said as he ran a finger through your folds. “I’ve barely touched you and your soaked.” He smirked as you rolled your head back into the pillow.

“Please.” You begged as he let out a breath over your heat, watched as you jolted slightly from the sensation. “Tom.” You moaned as he ran his tongue through your heat.

“You taste fucking amazing.” He said before practically diving in, sucking your clit as he listened to your moans. He continued to lick and suck at your clit as he heard your moans grow louder, you must have been close he thought to himself as he sucked your clit and listened to the high-pitched moan you released.

He felt as your hand moved to his hair, almost keeping him still as he continued to lick and suck at your clit, your hips bucking up to meet his movements and e found it so incredibly hot, the way you’d started to use his face to almost get yourself off was driving him wild.

You let out a moan of his name as your orgasm crashed through you, Tom felt your legs shake and helped you through your intense orgasm, feeling proud of himself for not disappointing you. Once you’d come down from your high, he pulled away, moving back up your body, your legs continuing to shake through your aftershocks.

“So perfect.” He mumbled as he gave you a quick kiss, taking in the blissful expression on your face. “Did so well for me. Fucking hot.” He said again as you removed his shirt, placing a kiss onto his chest. You continued pressing kisses to his chest as he fumbled with his belt, almost getting frustrated as it got caught.

“Here.” you said as your hands took over, taking his belt into your own hands, undoing it almost like it was second nature to you. He found it all the more of a turn on. You made short work of his pants; they found their place with the rest of the clothes on the floor of your bedroom.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” He asked.

“Yes. I want you to fuck me Tom.”

It was all the confirmation he needed as he slipped into you, both of you moaning at the contact. Fuck, you felt good, almost perfect for him. You were both a moaning mess as he thrusted into you over and over again. His hand gripping your thigh to hoist it higher around his waist. You almost screamed as he found your g spot from his new angle, your nails clawing at his back which only made him thrust into you harder.

“Fuck, that feels good, you feel so fucking amazing.” He said as he felt you clench around him. He shifted your leg higher to get an even better angle on your g spot as he continuously pounded into you, listening to your moans of his name. he felt his own orgasm approach as you tightened around him, he knew you were close, and he watched in awe as you reached your own hand to your clit and started to rub it.

“That’s it baby.” He said and after a few more thrusts he felt you come around him which brought on his own orgasm, he removed himself from your tight heat and released his load all over your stomach with a moan of your name.

It took you both a good few minutes to recover, he was collapsed on top of you as you ran your fingers through his hair. He kissed your shoulder every few minutes and found himself more happy and content than he’d been in a long time. He removed himself from the top of you and went into the bathroom to find a warm cloth to wash the two of you off.

Once you were both cleaned up he laid in your bed with your head on hi chest as you slept soundly, and he ran his hands through your hair. He was deep in thought as he thought about your case and what had happened and now he was dying to know what had driven you to commit such an act. He was so sure in his gut you’d done it but having you here in the state you were he wondered how you could harm an insect, let alone another person.

“I wish you’d tell me what happened. Just be honest, everything’s different now. I’d want you to confide in me as your partner not see me as a detective who’s looking to lock you away. Fuck Princess, I think I’d move the Earth if you asked me to.” He whispered and he meant it, he didn’t want this time with you to end, he was so infatuated with you by this point. He fell asleep after a while, thoughts of you completely on his mind.

**

“I need to know how you did it.” He spoke after a while of you both being awake, you were spooning now as his hand rubbed your bare skin, he pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder.

“You’ve read the file.” You spoke.

“That says you didn’t do it, but I know you did Princess.”

“My case is closed, why don’t you leave it at that?”

“I can’t. I’m obsessing over it.”

“I’ve already told you.” You said after a while and Tom furrowed his brows as he turned you onto your back so he could look at you.

“No. You haven’t.” He spoke carefully, maybe he’d missed something, a confession maybe.

“For a Detective Inspector, you can be pretty stupid.” You laughed and he thought on your words for a second. Thought about how much help you’d been and what you’d said, of course you knew how this woman had done it, it was how you’d done it. The only difference was that you’d managed to dispose of the body.

“So, you did do it?” He said quietly, a small part of him was proud he was right, his gut was never wrong, but the bigger part of him wondered why.

“You just need to prove it.” You said as a tear made its way down your cheek. Of all the things Tom expected, this wasn’t one of them, he wasn’t expecting you to cry.

“Hey,” he said as he swiped the tear away with his thumb. “Tell me what happened.” He urged in the most comforting manner he could, he needed you to know you could trust him with this.

“Have you ever felt trapped? That’s how he made me feel, like I had no way out. I tried to leave him so many times, but he wouldn’t let me, he had me by the throat and it felt like he was squeezing the life out of me.” You said through your tears and Tom’s heart dropped, this wasn’t a usual case where the wife murders the husband for a payout. “He wasn’t the nice rich guy everyone thought he was, he hit me, took all his anger out on me but I could never prove it, if I had bruises I wasn’t allowed to leave the house until they weren’t visible, which wasn’t often. I snapped.” You spoke and he pulled you into a hug.

“Y/N…” He said and you interrupted him.

“But it never matters to people like you. You don’t give leeway for the small amount of people who had no other choice. That’s why I never came clean, never admitted to what I’d done, I didn’t want him to trap me any more than he had, I didn’t want to go to prison because of him.” You said as you finally let the tears out that you’d kept in for so many months.

You hadn’t intended to kill him; it was an accident. You cried for ten minutes as Tom held you, placing comforting kisses to your temple. Something about finally telling the truth was freeing, you knew he could and would probably arrest you for this, but it felt good to finally tell someone the truth that was eating away at you.

“I’m not going to do anything.” Tom spoke after a while.

“What?” You asked through sniffles as your tears ceased.

“I understand now. You’ve been punished enough. Your secret is safe with me.” He said sincerely and you believed him, but you didn’t want to drag him down with you.

“You could lose your job, go to prison if anyone found out.” You said and he kissed your cheek.

“They won’t, your case has become a cold one. There’s still no body, I doubt they’ll reopen the case.” He said through a small smile. He didn’t want to ask what you’d done with the body, he assumed you were clever enough to make sure it was never found and if it was he would make sure none of the evidence led to you, he would make sure that all the evidence ran dry, he felt like he would do anything for you.

“So, I’m free?” You spoke, hope lacing every word.

“You’re free baby.”

#tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland smut

[fridayfirefly]

The Power of Luck [Chapter One]

Read The Power of Luck on AO3

Masterlist [All Works]

Masterlist [The Power of Luck Series]

Written for Maribat March Day 6 - Miraculous Side Effects

The Ladybug Miraculous had quite a few side effects. Marinette was able to think quick on her feet, she was a skilled tactician in battle, and her reaction time was half that of a normal human. Most notably, the Ladybug Miraculous granted its user the force known as Miraculous Luck, which, depending on the situation, was sometimes more of a curse than a blessing. Marinette didn't get to choose how that good luck manifested. For instance, when she needed an extra day to finish a history project, her school closed down due to a gas leak. Or when she wished for a fresh start after the defeat of Hawkmoth, her parents were offered a deal to grow their bakery business in America.

Marinette assured her parents that she didn't mind moving. After all, most of her class had already moved on. Lila had been deported to Italy, narrowly avoiding jail time. Chloé (much to her dismay) was sent by her father to an all-girls boarding school in England. Adrien was taken in by his Aunt Amelie (as Gabriel was in jail and Emilie was declared brain-dead) and moved to England as well.

No one else from Marinette's class left the country, but many of them moved out of Paris. Nathanial was accepted to an elite art school in Marseille. Max was accepted to a gifted program at an elite school in Bordeaux. Officer Raincomprix was transferred to Toulouse and took Sabrina with him. Juleka and Luka both started homeschooling after their mother sailed the houseboat down the Seine to the city of Rouen.

Worst of all was the loss of Alya. Her parents were horrified that the son of Hawkmoth was in the same class as their daughter, and promptly pulled Alya out of class and decided to move out of the city. Alya begged them for weeks but nothing came of her protests. In the end, Alya left too.

The Miraculous Luck could do a lot of things, but it couldn't keep her friends together. Those who remained at François Dupont filled holes in other classes. Marinette tried to make the best of her new class, but she felt no real connection to them. When her parents proposed the move, Marinette jumped on the opportunity. In Gotham, she wouldn't be haunted by the ghost of her old life.

Marinette cut her hair, leaving it choppy and just above the shoulders. She donated all of her brightly colored clothes to the thrift store down the street and created a new wardrobe for herself. It was toned down and mature, much more fitting for Gotham.

Marinette left Paris a much different girl than the naive fourteen-year-old who thought she could save the world. She was ready for a city like Gotham, a city that didn't make any promises, a city where Marinette could set down some new roots.

-----

At first, it was easy to fly under the radar at Gotham Academy. It was a school filled with the self-absorbed children of millionaires and billionaires, after all. Marinette was there on scholarship - her good grades, leadership experience, and working-class parents combined to cut her tuition down by 75%. Marinette quickly learned that scholarship students were at best ignored, and at worst mercilessly bullied. So Marinette kept her head down and vowed that she would get through the year unscathed.

There was one variable, however, that the Miraculous Luck wasn't able to account for. Marinette's entire plan fell apart thanks to one boy: Damian Wayne.

Marinette became acquainted with Damian Wayne through the school's rumor mill. She learned that he was one of the most wealthy and most attractive people in the school, but he was thought himself too good to spend time with any of his fellow classmates (Marinette couldn't fault him on the last bit; she also found the students at Gotham Academy to be difficult, to say the least). Marinette also learned through the school's rumor mill that Damian spent quite a lot of time staring at her. Given that Damian had never paid the slightest amount of attention to a Gotham Academy girl before, this was a big deal. Suddenly Marinette was the farthest thing from under the radar. Everyone who used to look down on her wanted to be her friend. It was exhausting.

Marinette resolved to ignore Damian Wayne - an easy task, given that she still didn't even know what he looked like. Now that everyone was staring at her, it was hard to

"Why?" grumbled Marinette. "Why couldn't my so-called Miraculous Luck help me get through one normal year of school?"

Tikki shrugged from her spot inside of Marinette's backpack. "Maybe all of this attention will turn out to be a good thing?"

"I doubt that." Marinette glanced around, checking that no one had spotted her talking to her backpack. There was one spot in the cafeteria that was hidden from view, a window-sill nestled behind a pillar, bordered by a wall on one side and an out of order vending machine on the other. Marinette sat on the window-sill every day to eat lunch, with Tikki as her companion for the meal.

"I think your problem is that you're overthinking this. Miraculous Luck always works out in the end, even if there are some obstacles in the middle."

"I just want this horrible school year to be over," sighed Marinette, setting her head down in her arms.

"Don't give up yet, Marinette. I have high hopes for this school year," said Tikki.

Marinette had some serious doubts but picked her head up anyway. Maybe this year wouldn't turn out the way she expected. Marinette defeated Hawkmoth, the greatest villain Paris ever faced. She could survive a year of high school.

-----

Marinette was going to survive her senior year of high school. Damian Wayne on the other hand... Marinette still wasn't sure if she was going to let him survive the year, after everything he put her through.

"Excuse me?" a sickeningly sweet voice piped up from behind Marinette.

Marinette put on her best disinterested-face, took out one headphone, and turned around. "Yes?"

There were three girls standing behind her: a blonde, flanked on both sides by a brunette and a red-head. The blonde girl had a smile on her face but a devious look in her eyes. Marinette had long ago learned to spot manipulators, and this girl had it written all over her. "Are you Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"

"Yes."

"My name is Julie Cooper. I was just wondering... Are you dating Damian Wayne?"

Marinette huffed in exasperation. "What do you think?"

Julie's eyes narrowed. "I just wanted to warn you. I mean, did you really think that Damian Wayne would seriously date a girl here on scholarship? You should break up with him before you get hurt."

"It was a rhetorical question. I'm not dating Damian Wayne. It's just a rumor."

Julie instantly perked up. "Oh, good! I was beginning to think that Damian had lost his mind. I mean, I'm sure you would be a nine or a ten at a public school, but at Gotham Academy, you're like a seven, maybe an eight on a good day. Most of the girls who go here are actually hot, not just," the girl waved her hand towards Marinette. "Above average."

Marinette wasn't sure if Julie meant for her to feel flattered or offended, but her words had the strange effect of making Marinette feel both all at once. "Um, thanks? I'm going to go now."

Julie's brunette friend suddenly paled as the girl started to tug on Julie's sleeve. "Um, Julie?" she whispered.

"What, Nora?" Julie's eyes widened as they fixed on something behind Marinette.

Marinette turned around to see what the cause of their concern was. Or rather, to see who the cause of their concern was. It was a boy, tall and scowling. "Are you done here, Cooper?"

Julia nodded, a nervous edge to her voice, "Bye, Marinette." She and her two friends hurried off, exchanging frantic whispers.

"What do you want?" asked Marinette with a sigh. She was tired of dealing with boys who were only interested in her because Damian Wayne was interested in her.

"I wished to apologize."

"For Julie? Did you put her up to this?"

The boy looked confused. "No, of course not. I meant that I wanted to apologize for everything, not just Julie Cooper."

"For everything?" The truth suddenly dawned on Marinette. "You're Damian Wayne! I didn't think that you would be so tall."

"You didn't know what I looked like?" There was real shock in his voice.

"Well, by the time I learned that you had been staring at me everyone was staring at me, so that wasn't much help in figuring out who you were."

"You could have googled me."

Marinette shrugged. "I could have, but it felt weird to google one of my classmates. I pretty much just resigned myself to never figuring out who you were."

"I should have approached you sooner. I've wanted to apologize for a while, but every time I've caught you alone you've looked like you wanted to be left that way."

"I'm not a fan of most of the students here."

"The students here can be..." Damian searched for the appropriate word. "Tiresome. I resigned myself to a dull four years of high school in their company. That is, until I saw you."

Marinette cocked her head. "Why me, though? I'm nothing special."

"You're different than everyone else here."

Marinette stiffened. "I know. I've been told. I'm here on a scholarship which means I don't belong," she snapped

Damian shook his head. "No, that's not what I meant. You move through life differently than all of the other students here. You don't care about the gossip or drama - at least, not until you were right at the center of it all. You've seen the real world, so you float above the high school drama. You're just so... so..."

"So what?" Marinette's tone softened.

Damian ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it. The addition of the messy hair added a certain charm to his otherwise polished exterior. "I've been brainstorming for the right word for weeks. The best I can come up with is pure. You don't let yourself become affected by anything in this school."

It was a very flattering description of her. It was also very on the nose. "I'll forgive you, Damian Wayne, but only on one condition."

"What?"

"I want to get to know you, and I have a feeling that you feel the same way."

Damian nodded. "It's a deal."

Maybe her Miraculous Luck wasn't so useless after all. Marinette had expected to go the whole year without making a single friend. Now, it seemed that she might make one after all.

@maribatmarch-2k21

#maribat #daminette #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Damian Wayne #MaribatMarch2021 #maridami #marinette x damian #miraculous ladybug fic #my work

[mrs-cavill-wife]

The Skirt and The Elevator. (One Shot)

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female Reader (Angel)

Warning: Language. Angst? Some moments of tension but fluff. Plot twist?

Author's Note: Well well that's my first fanfiction ever. I'm sorry if it is too long, it's based on dream i had. I swear I'm hyperventilating but I'm excited, hope you guys enjoy it. Yes, I put my name on the character, hope you guys don't mind. Leave some feedback and reblog it if you really like, please and thank you!

Tag List: @lexyvaldez26 @thereisa8ella @natura1phenomenon @mrsavery @number1chonie @themanfromu @littlefreya @legendarywizarddetective @lovingbearherringhairdo @zealoushound @deangal-101 @everydaymultifandom @summersong69 @jgtfvhsg @tellingyouastory @sillyrabbit81 @nuggsmum @pussyverson @oh-for-fic-sake @foodieforthoughts @fanficlover91 @r-t-doll @its--fandom--darling @poledancingdinos @hlkwrites @rmtndew

Summary: Captain Syverson has a very attractive visit, but the rebellious girl knows how to attract danger and the Captain's heart can hardly stand it.

Cap. Syverson POV

These weaklings don't know how to flex, what the fuck are they doing here? Or rather, WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING HERE?

Well, I was one step away from a few holidays, a good break, with the best company in the world .. but the 1st. Lt Anthony contacted me, he needed a good soldier, a captain to train new recruits and well, without wanting to brag, my title is not just a title.. and here I am, with these soft asses, burning under the sun.. it could be California sun, with some.. What the fuck are these brats looking at?

"Hey your pieces of shit, focus.."

I looked to the side and saw that vision, an oasis in the shape of a woman. You can call it out a skirt but swear I can see up to half of that round booty that I would love to.. SHIT, SHUT UP BRAIN, She's Anthony's daughter..

Angel's POV

I got there, with my best smile, being the owner's daughter has its advantages but I know that my Daddy won't approve of my outfit and in fact, fuck it, he knows I don't give two shits about opinions, from nobody, at all and I'm not on the best mood, my beautiful vacation was ruined, and i already had some plans but my company went down to take care of other things but I have my ways to find some fun.

Just like now, I am loving sitting in front of these soldiers, reading my magazine as they try to see something under my tiny skirt as the Captain lets fire out of his eyes. Of course he noticed me as soon as I arrived, he always does and I love to test his patience.

Hearing that rough voice yelling at the boys is a lot of fun, I like to be admired, but knowing that the Captain is losing focus? Holy shit, is certainly the best part.

I crossed my legs a few times, some times letting it sightly open and that's it, the Captain was no longer pretending to ignore me, he was looking at me with disapproval, anger.. Oh Captain, you know it turn me on baby but yeah, that's my cue to leave and I did.

When I was waiting for the elevator, I was leaning against the wall, laughing to myself, my favorite hobby, I love playing with it. I heard long, steady steps, I didn't have to look to know who it was. I thought the elevator would take longer, I mean, t's about twenty-one floors here, but the doors opened just in time, I ran inside but I wasn't fast enough, those warm hands were already holding the door and the most beautiful blue eyes I've seen were staring at me.

"What's your freaking problem, woman? Are you hating me enough to make my job difficult or are you just testing my patience?"

He asked and I looked at him with my best ironic face and mischievous smile. I touched his hand, playing with his fingers, softly, just the way he likes and I saw saw his beastly posture being tamed.

"Huh I think both.. well, actually, the three?"

He looked at me confused arching one eyebrow and that's my chance again. I managed to move his hand, taking him by surprise and quickly pressed the button for the ground floor, causing the door to close, but before the elevator moved, I screamed when the door closed.

"Focus to find the thirty reason, Captain"

Cap. Syverson POV

And the elevator closed before I could say anything else. Third reason, is it? Ok lady..

I received a text, it was one of the recruits, saying that my daughter was here. I know, it's not the place for a five-month-old baby but well, it's a quiet day and I was just finishing the beginners' training, or almost training because it was ruined by beautiful legs and a skirt that I'm dying to tear up if I see again and I was planning going home after. Suddenly I heard a loud noise and a familiar scream, the elevator was creaking and the owner of the 'little mind-destroying skirt' was in panic. My phone rang and one of the soldiers told me it was for the elevator is undergoing maintenance, but for me not to worry, powders were already solving the problem.

"Not to worry? NOT TO WORRY?There's a woman who can die if the elevator goes down… What's wrong with you? Why didn't they tell you before the elevator was going to be under maintenance? I'm going there to the ground floor"

I hung up after yelling at the top of my lungs. I ran to the emergency stairs. Twenty-one floors.. OF STAIRS ... great, well, weren't you the one who was bragging, Syverson? Time to show your strength.

Angel's POV

I just went through the twenty minutes of pure agony of my whole life, in fact, in my head, it felt like hours. But at least, I was out of the elevator, one of the soldiers fanned me while I drank a glass of cold water and recovered my breath. I took out my cell phone and saw that it had an unread message. It was from the kindergarten. Oh shit, she was already here. I gave the glass to one of the soldiers and ran to the lobby and relieved myself with the view. After almost having a heart attack, seeing my daughter and her father, the loves of my life together.. everything I need.

He ran up to me with our princess on his lap and touched my right shoulder, looking at me with distress, nervous, shaking and cold hands.

"Baby, I had to get her first.. are you alright? Any wound? I'll kill those motherfuckers but first let's get a cab, I'll take you to the emergency.."

I giggled and touched his beard face, gave him a soft peck and hugged him tightly while our little princess looked at me and touched my cheek making me smile.

"Sy, it's over. I'm alright, baby"

I kissed our daughters hand then looked at him and my heart smashed seeing a single tear falling through his cheek.

"I.. I don't know what I would do without you. I need you two in my life.. shit, I shouldn't had accepted to come.. I ruined our vacation"

I interrupted him giving another soft peck in his lips.

"But you don't wanted to disappoint my dad aka your boss aka your father in law.. I know, love. It's all alright. We can have another vacation soon and we're together, it's all the matters, right?"

I saw he smiling softly at me then at our daughter while she played with his beard, then he hugged us tight as he could.

"Yes, that's all that matters, love."

After a few seconds, he separated us and smirked. I know this smirk..

"But I didn't forgot what you caused.. I will tear apart this skirt when we head home"

I giggled and kissed him softly ending the kiss with a light bite on his bottom lip.

"Mmm I'm counting on that, Cap"

#henry cavill one shot #henrycavill rp #captain syverson imagine #hubby!sy #henry cavill x female reader #captain syverson x ofc #captain syverson fic #captain syverson fanfic

[foilfreak]

Beauty and Her Beast: Summary and Ch.1

A Salvatore Moreau x Female!FishMutant!oc fic based on this idea I had the other day that a very specific subset of the fanfom went absolutely apeshit for, which I'm here for and decided to act on. I can't make any promises for consistent uploading or even a finishes product by the end of this, but so long as im still interested in working on it, I'll keep working on it, and if im not, then I wont, plain and simple. Anyways, here's the summary and chapter 1, please let me know what you think of the story so far, i hope you all enjoy (you'd better all enjoy), and I can't wait to see you all again for chapter 2. Bye! <333 (Link to ao3 posting will be in comments so check there if you want to read it there instead)

Warning: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

Summary:

Now, I’m sure everyone already knows the ancient tales that tell of a beautiful young woman slowly falling in love with a horrific monstrosity of a man. The pure and true love this innocent beauty comes to feel for him, despite his terrifying appearance, is the key that breaks the cruel and twisted curse under which he’d been kept prisoner. This allows the man behind the monster to not only return to his true human form, but then go on to live his Happily Ever After with the beauty who saved him. Everyone already knows of these tales, as well as the messages behind them, however that is not quite the way this particular tale plays out.

The tale I am about to tell bears many similarities to the one above, however there are also quite a few important differences. For while the original detailed a beauty falling for a monster because of the kind and loving man he was behind his hideous exterior, this is a tale of a beauty, with a few monstrous qualities of her own, falling in love with a kind and loving monster, not at all despite his grotesque appearance, but rather, in part, because of it.

This is a tale, where the Beast still falls for his Beauty first, but the Beauty is the one who will be pursuing her Beast.

Chapter 1: Mother's Gift

Few of those who lived isolated from the outer world, high up in the mountains of Romania, would expect anyone of reasonable sanity to be out traveling in this hellish sort of weather. The wind howling a demonic high pitched tune; snow, sleet, and hail pounding into the ground like an endless shower of bullets from the heavens; and hungry lycans still roaming the area, tirelessly looking for their next meal, would be enough to incentivize even the strongest of mortal men to seek shelter away from the deadly conditions of the outside.

A man by the name of Salvatore Moreau however, one of the 4 lords of this mountain region who lived in the reservoir just past the windmills, did not appear terribly concerned with what other people thought of the traveling conditions. Completely unbothered by the horrifying weather and threat of suddenly being ground into doggy food, the hooded man trudged his way through the dark and barely maintained snow paths. Starting at the reservoir and making his way toward the village, Salvatore moved as quickly as his deformed body would permit, an unusually chipper spring added to his lumbering hobble of a walk.

Mother had a gift for him.

Yes, a truly joyous day it was whenever Mother Miranda called upon him to join her and the other lords for a meeting. Miranda was usually so busy with her experiments that she rarely had time to visit her children outside of these ‘family meetings’ they’d been having recently. However, it would appear as though Mother has come up with a solution of some kind to this problem and wishes to share it with them in person. Whatever this solution is, the mutated man has no idea, as Mother Miranda had been quite vague in her message, however the fact that Salvatore was being given the chance to see his radiant mother AND receive a gift from her, all in one day, was more than enough to make up for how agonizingly lonely he’s been these last few months since winter set in, as well as how agonizing it was for him to walk in this weather.

Salvatore arrived at the usual meeting site just as the clock struck 8pm, precisely as Mother had instructed. However, much to the hooded man’s confusion, when he turned the handle on the large wooden door to enter the room, he quickly realized that he was currently the only one present. This was especially strange considering that, usually, at least one of his siblings was always present a little earlier than necessary, usually Alcina or Karl, but occasionally Donna with Angie in tow.

Mother had clearly said in her message that she wanted to start the meeting at 8pm sharply, so where on earth is everyone?

“Moreau” Mother Miranda’s voice called out, immediately pushing all thoughts from Salvatore’s brain as her powerful, yet lucious voice echoed against the halls of the room like a choir of angels.

“Y-yes! W-what… is it… M-mother Miranda? I-i-i came to you… j-just like you asked” Salvatore responds, bowing his head in reverence as he slowly crosses the room and approaches the otherworldly woman.

“So you did, though I suppose you coming exactly when I call makes the most sense. You always were the most obedient of my children” the woman remarks with casual disdain, her voice devoid of any sort of motherly affection or tenderness. Despite the clear disgust and disregard with which Miranda regards the hooded man standing before her, her words light Salvatore’s soul ablaze, filling his mangled body with intense feelings of heat and desire that melt his heart of the cold, icy frost that had frozen it over the course of the long winter.

“Y-y-yes, y-yes of c-course, Mother M-Miranda! I-i would… I would do any-anything... for y-you. A-anything you s-say... anything y-you n-need… I’d d-do it... f-for you. W-without question!” The deformed man says, practically getting on his hands and knees and crawling as he neared closer and closer to Miranda, stopping only when he’d arrived just in front of the steps the raven mother stood upon, his gaze trained at the ground as he knelt at her feet, awaiting his fate at his mother’s hands.

“I know you would, Moreau,” Miranda says cooly, gently brushing the palm of her hand against the black fabric that covers the top of Salvatore’s head, “which is why I’ve called you here today; to reward you for your loyalty and service to me thus far.”

Salvatore sinks sharp and jagged teeth into the flesh of his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood as he desperately tries to silence the needy whine that wanted to tear its way from the back of his throat. His body shivered and twitched in unimaginable delight from the sudden tender caress to his sensitive skin. How long had it been since someone had touched him so gently? How long since someone had spoken to him with such kind and soft words. Took the time to gather presents as a reward for years of faithful servitude? How long since someone had loved him like this?

‘Too long’ the disfigured man sighed to himself, reveling in the soft, gentle contact for as long as he is able.

“Moreau. Look at me” Miranda commanded firmly, and despite not wanting his beloved Mother to be forced to bear witness to his hideous face, he complied, lifting his head up and back to allow his gaze to lift from the floor and up at the glowing figure that was his Mother, his beautiful, incredible, intelligent, majestic mother.

The light shining down from above illuminates Miranda from behind. From Salvatore’s perspective on the floor, the light darkens her face and most of her torso and waist, giving a softened, almost ethereal glow around Miranda’s figure. This, along with the rest of her garb, makes Mother Miranda appear even more like the holy woman that Salvatore naively believes she still is. Despite her less than affectionate treatment of him thus far, Salvatore still stared up at the darkened face of Mother Miranda, his eyes shining with reverence, love, desire, and unending devotion.

“Y-yes... Mother?” Salvatore breathed, barely able to speak above a whisper as Miranda stepped away, gesturing for him to follow.

“Are you ready to collect your gift now?” The raven mother asks, speaking more softly than before and even holding her hand out to Salvatore, her pose and appearance mirroring that of a powerful god taking mercy upon her wretched follower, reaching out to reward the years of faithful servitude and worship.

Salvatore, barely able to keep himself calm as he stumbled to his feet, did not grace Mother Miranda’s question with a proper response, instead practically racing to take the woman’s outstretched hand in his own.

“I’m ready Mother… I-I’m ready for... my g-gift now… can I… c-can I have it n-now… p-please?” Salvatore begs, pulling at Miranda’s hand like an overly excited child, seemingly unaware of the disgusted twist of her face when the hooded man’s cold, slimy fingers firmly latched onto hers.

“Of course, my child” Mother Miranda says, pulling her hand back from Salvatore’s and instead placing it along the man’s hunched back, beginning to guide him to wherever it was the raven mother had hidden his gift.

As Salvatore limped next to Mother Miranda, the deformed man couldn’t help but wonder what exactly it was that Mother had gotten for him. Was it a new cloak, to replace the worn one he was currently wearing? Perhaps a new set of romance films so he didn’t have to rewatch the ones he already owned over and over again anymore? Or maybe it was something to help with his digestion?

It would be nice to get his chronic acid reflux under control again.

Regardless of what the gift actually turned out to be however, Salvatore was merely pleased that he was finally getting a chance to spend time with Mother Miranda all by himself for a change.

Maybe, if he was lucky, she’d even agree to hold him, just like she always did back when he was still undergoing cadou treatment.

Oh how wonderful that would be!

#salvatore moreau #resident evil #resident evil 8 #resident evil 8 village #resident evil 8: village #mother miranda #beauty and her beast #fic #mine #chapter 1 #re8 #re8 village #re village #salvatore moreau x reader #moreau x reader #moreau x oc #salvatore moreau x oc

[imaginesmai]

Arvin Russell - The preacher’s sins (2/2)

Here is the second part of this fic! Hope you enjoy it.

Plot: The preacher’s manipulation is finally kicking in, but Arvin isn’t letting go so easily. 

Warnings: It’s about TDATT, so you can guess, again. Violence, manipulation, hurt reader.

Lenora died two days after your argument with Arvin, you and him were drifting apart and Knockemstiff was entering in the coldest Autumn yet to meet. The villagers were on edge every second of the day, there was more violence and the people’s faith was starting to become dangerous. Just a few days ago, a pregnant woman and her boyfriend had walked into the café, and had been kicked out by angry clients who scream obscenities for not being married.

The preacher’s words were starting to make roots into the town, it seemed, and you were no exception; at least, you didn’t think you were. Since that talk with the preacher, he had opened your eyes about your sins, and you could say happily that you were getting better at reading. Every two days, you would go the church and he would be waiting outside, with his car and his bible. He would read to you, helping you understand what you couldn’t and giving you a kind smile. And if you got a word wrong, well, he knew how to fix it.

“And she… uh, she… “ you squinted to see what the word was, but you couldn’t read. Your heart started to beat loudly in your ears under the watchful eyes of the preacher. “She was con… con…”

The preacher put a hand on your shoulder, and your eyes got misty. You knew it was well deserved, because who didn’t know how to read? But it still brought tears to your eyes when it happened. You searched into your brain for something to say, but since Lenora’s death no one was teaching you. Arvin, your sweet boy, was the only reason why you sometimes doubted what the preacher was doing was right. And in order not to lie to his face, you barely saw him anymore.

“Come on, Y/N. You know what to do” the preacher said, unfastening his belt. In a moment of panic, you shifted away from him. “It’s for you own good. You think someone will love some brainless girl like you?”

“Please, preacher” you whined as he got up, belt in hand. “Please, not today. They – they haven’t healed, a-and it hurts. Please, I don’t –“

“You think your suffering is close to what he suffered? You whiny bitch, take out your clothes before I make you”

As quickly as you could, you got naked in front of the preacher, except from your underwear. The first time you did it, just before meeting Arvin in the graveyard, you had cried and begged. Then the preacher had explained you that it was the only way to cure your sins, to redeem yourself for lying to him in the first place. He had told you not to talk to Arvin about it – and you didn’t, because he promised you to teach you to read and be a good girl for him.

You didn’t know if it was because of what happened to Lenora, because of the hurt look on Arvin’s face when you told him you couldn’t meet that weekend, or because you had noticed that lately the preacher’s eyes were shiner than usual when you took off your clothes. But you were starting to doubt if what he considered redemption was really it.

“It’s for you own good” the preacher said, as the belt fell for the first time near your right shoulder. He didn’t bother to avoid the previous days lashes – he liked to see how longer could you keep the tears away. “You want to clean yourself?”

“Please, don’t –“

“I asked you a question!”

The belt fell so many times that you lost count. You thought about how all of this could end – he had told you, you could wipe your sins with the belt or with him. And every time you chose the belt, the preacher’s face got angrier. He wasn’t the nice, quiet man that presented himself in the church a few months ago, with a kind smile. You had really thought he was a nice man, but as the days passed and you were submitted to your own hell, your impression of him was changing.

You were afraid, something you hadn’t been at the beginning. It was easy to ignore what he was doing, because you took it as a punishment for not learning how to read. It was a motivation, and you were eager for each meeting, until one day you could show them that you could read. Maybe write a letter to Arvin, and watch how his warm smile lifted finally your mood. But the preacher had less patience each day, and you were making more mistakes – because he didn’t want you to learn, he just wanted you to choose the other option. Wanted you to leave Arvin and lay with him, and even you, who couldn’t read, wouldn’t do that.

You accepted the hits in silence, waiting for it to be over so he could drive you back to the church. And from then, pretending nothing was wrong.

-

The familiar truck from the Russell was parked outside your house the next day, when you finished your shift at the café. You almost didn’t notice it, because your father used to have one pretty similar. It wasn’t until you parked your car in front of your fence that you saw the familiar boy staring at you from the side of the truck.

Arvin was smoking, as always, and had a brow raised. He watched without saying anything as you got out of your car, getting ride of the ashes of the smoke. You took your time in grabbing your bag and closing your car – if your memory was right, it had been five days since you last saw Arvin, and it had just been a brief talking in the washing rooms. You had noticed he had something to say, but even if just two months ago you wouldn’t have had any problem talking about anything, now he couldn’t find away.

He waited for you, not saying a word. You chose not to say anything about the bruise and swelling around his left eye, because if you talked, you were sure you would just burst crying. That day the preacher had been busy with a family, so he had given you the day free – which was why you were coming home so soon, and why Arvin and you were the only ones there.

As you left he keys on the kitchen table and your bag on the chair, Arvin closed the door behind him. You didn’t have to look at him to know that he was staring.

“I was ‘ere yesterday” he announced, his voice echoing the empty space. “Waited for you to come back, but your daddy told me you’re coming home later now”

“Longer shifts, you know” you took out the pan, ready to make dinner and avoid the conversation. “Leroy is having – “

“I came from the café, and it was closed” Arvin cut you off. “Is everythin’….?”

Arvin didn’t finish his question, and you felt bad because he wasn’t demanding an explanation – he was just worrying. You kept moving things around for dinner as Arvin understood you weren’t going to talk. There was a suspicious wet feeling on your eyes, and a lump on your throat. The previous day the preacher had been particularly rough, not just with his belt, but with his words. And when you thought about Arvin, about how good he was, you wondered if they were true. If you didn’t deserve him.

Instead of giving up, Arvin walked around the kitchen aisle. Unknown to you, it hadn’t been the first day he had come to look for you. Since Lenora’s death he had kept his distance, too busy in his own grief to notice that you were no longer asking him to pick you up. He blamed himself, for the argument in the graveyard two days before her death and for not being there. So busy, that he didn’t know where his girl was spending her nights away.

He didn’t want you to think he was accusing you, because he would trust you with his eyes closed. But after asking around for a while, he discovered you were spending more and more time with the preacher, and that you didn’t smile as brighter as before. Now that he was finally alone with you, he couldn’t let it go.

“Y/N” he called you, putting a hand over yours and stopping the torture over the poor tomato. “I just wan’ to talk with you. I know she was your friend too, and I’m sorry I wasn’ here before”

“It’s fine, Arvin” you said. You didn’t look at him, nor shook his hand off. With the knife midway of cutting the tomato, you didn’t move. “Sorry for not… being there too”

“No, that’s my fault, darlin’” Arvin finally rounded your body and leant his head against your shoulder. “Can I treat you dinner? I’ve savin’ up for a bit”

“I can’t, I have to – “

You interrupted yourself with a pained whine and scrambled away from Arvin, almost having forgotten how bad your back hurt. The look of pure terror on his face decomposed you whole. In just two seconds, the knife had fallen to the ground and the tomato had rolled away, and Arvin looked like he had touched ice. He was pale, with his arms still open in a mid-hug and staring at you with wide eyes.

The house was silent for a long minute, while tears welled up in your eyes. Arvin looked lost, as if he could just vanish in thin air, but he collected himself well enough to help you up and sit you on the kitchen’s stool, that creaked under your weight.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, not moving his hand from your shoulder. He knelt in front of you and made you meet his eyes. “You can tell me anythin’, pretty girl”

“It hurts” you cried to him, finally saying out loud. “It hurts when I sit, or when I drive. And – and when I sleep too. I just don’t want it to hurt anymore”

“What hurts?”

“The belt”

Somehow, Arvin knew what you were talking about, and lifted your shirt with such soft and caring hands that you heart broke a little more. He asked permission with his eyes before doing anything, and reassured you when you whined in pain. Eventually, the brown blouse you had been wearing for your shift at the café came out, Arvin lifting your arms and passing it through your head.

He left it on the table, and turned you around so that he could look properly at it. The poor wrapped bandages you managed to apply by yourself came out easily as you cried into your hands. One by one, they came apart under Arvin’s skilled fingers, who made a pile of them on the floor. Even if you didn’t see his face, you had a vague idea what it looked like. In that moment, you understood that what the preacher was doing wasn’t right – because you couldn’t talk about it to Arvin without feeling embarrassment and self-pity crawl through your throat.

“I’m so stupid, Arvin” you broke the silence, as Arvin feather touch ran down your back. “I can’t – I can’t get most of the words… They are, a-all the same. And… and…”

“Who?”

You turned around to look at Arvin, and didn’t see any of the reject you had expected from what the preacher had told you. There wasn’t even an inch of anger, at least you thought it wasn’t directed at you. When he met your eyes, there was just worry and love for you, and such a sadness and pain that probably matched yours.

Arvin cupped your face delicately and pressed his lips in the corner of your mouth, catching a falling tear. He kissed your face as many times as the belt had fell on you the previous day, until his own tears were staining your cheeks. Between kisses, Arvin learned about you learning to read with the preacher, about your thought of not being worthy of him and a bunch of other words that made him hold you tighter.

Your bare chest ended up colliding with Arvin’s, and his arms wrapped around your back without touching any bruise. He held your head close as he shook with emotions, and shushed any attempt of apology from you.

“I’ll fix it” Arvin promised you, once the tears were over and you were just holding each other. “I’ll fix it”

“But it was my fault, Arv, he –“

“He fuckin’ beat you. Nothin’ you could have done deserved it” he caressed your hair, and you felt at ease for a long time in a long time. “I swear I’m gonna make ‘im regret every second, a’right?”

“He said I was no good for you” you confessed, hugging him tighter. “I don’t – I have never gone to school and you – you deserve…”

“Hey” he brought your face out and gave you a soft smile. “You’re coming home with me now, and I’m gonna make you forget bout him”

Arvin pressed his lips against you, not minding the awkward position you were in.  The kiss was slow and lovely, and you hadn’t notice how much you had missed him until that moment. He kissed you again and again, making sure you weren’t going to disappear from his grasp, and repeating how much he loved you every time his lips weren’t on you. You two held each other for a little longer, until the sun disappeared completely from the sky and the time when your parents came home was close.

Then, he helped you put on your blouse again, wincing every time his eyes landed on your back, and walked with you to his car. You two drove to his house, his grandma in bed and his granduncle away, which left the whole place for you. It wasn’t like that weekend where everything started – you couldn’t say you were the same person as then, but Arvin loved you even more. He let you sleep on his bed, and he held you through the night until you fell asleep.

Once you had closed your eyes, you didn’t notice anything else. You didn’t notice Arvin barely containing his rage anymore, and getting up to get the gun he had gotten for his birthday. He pressed his lips against your forehead and jumped through the window as you slept, getting into his car.

Arvin Russell didn’t get to pull the tigger that night. When he arrived to the church, he saw the preacher bidding farewell to a young girl, and he waited. Waited until he was alone, and decided that a man like that didn’t deserve the mercy to die. Waited, and then he fell on him in the dark night and left him trembling and bloody, crying out in pain each time Arvin brought his fist on his face. He heard the cracking of the ribs, his nose breaking, and the pathetic sobs the preacher was begging with. Arvin left him unconscious on the woods, with no memories of what had happened.

That day, Arvin broke two knuckles and sprained his wrist. The preacher was sent to the hospital and, out of fear, never put a foot on Knockemstiff again. And you healed, physically and mentally, while Arvin taught you how to read. Loving you every step of the way.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists​, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Tom Holland and Peter Parker Taglist

@delicately-important-trash​​

@lexxxistrips​​​​

@smilexcaptainx​​​​​

@aikaterrina​​​​​

@zalladane​​​​

@gypsystuf​​​​​ (since you didn’t answer me, I just put you on the general taglist. Let me know if you want to change!)

@nikkixostan​​​​

@galaxystern08​​

@justifymyfeelings​​

Arvin Russell (the preacher’s sins) Taglist

@jeyramarie​

#arvin russell #arvin russell one shot #arvin russell imagine #arvin russell x reader #arvin russell fic #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel #tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #imaginesmai #imaginemai #tdatt imagine #tdatt one shot #tdatt x reader #tdatt #tdatt fic #the devil all the time one shot #the devil all the time #the devil all the time imagine #the devil all the time fic #the devil all the time x reader