#but if i actually had the courage to do things myself i’d get arrested for

[count-alucard-tepes]

Headcanons for my One Piece hotties: Drunk texts they send to their S/O

Kizaru✨

Kizaru: baby, when I get home I want kisses and to love with all my very essence! You are the best thing that ever happened to me and the shining light in my life. I don’t know where I’d be with you and I appreciate everything you to do for me!😍😍😍

S/O: are you drunk?

Kizaru: 🤔 how’d you know?

S/O: ⬆️⬆️⬆️

Akainu🌋

Akainu: I’m amgry

S/O: You’re supposed to be having fun with your friends, babe

Akainu: Kizaru is dancing on a pole and Aokiji is throwing money at him. I’m too pure for this.

S/O: babe, take a video! Right now

Akainu: I can’t…I’m laying on the floor and looking at the stars…they remind me of you when you’re all happy and cute

S/O: BABE! VIDEO PLEASE!?

Ryokugyu 🌱

Ryokugyu: if this was my last night alive, I would spend it cuddled up to you and not my plants I promise

S/O: omg, are you drunk!? Where are you?

Ryokugyu: oh man, one thing I was in a pub with the guys…next thing I know is I was sitting on a bridge with a bottle in my hand..and someone’s walking stick…I think I beat someone up or won this walking stick in a drinking game…either way…your man is a winner 🥇

S/O: omg share your fucking location!? I’m calling Kizaru rn!

Sir Crocodile 🐊

Crocodile: grrrr I’m a crocodile, I bite *nom nom*

S/O: …what in the actual hell? Did someone steal this phone? Also he can’t text with one hand so it’s definitely stolen

Crocodile: I’m using the voice to text thingy…if I was a real crocodile would you love me?

S/O: fuck no, that’s weird

Crocodile: What! This is why I’d eat you if I was a real crocodile

S/O: pretty sure you eat me regardless of being a crocodile or not 😏

Crocodile: wait…was that a dirty comeback? Daddy’s coming home

Doflamingo Donquixote 🦩

Doffy: I’ve decided

S/O: on what? And where are you btw?

Doffy: you are the chosen one! And you shall bear my heir!

S/O: deal

Doffy: 😭😭😭 really baby, you’re gonna have my babies?! Omg I’m gonna be a mom

Doffy: I mean a dad

Doffy: I can’t stop crying

Doffy: halp me

Benn Beckman 🔫

Benn: I think my aim is better when I’m drunk, want to see?

S/O: that’s not a good idea, come home rn

Benn: babe, you were right…I accidentally shot Shanks while we were drinking and we have to go to the hospital

Benn: I’m a supportive husband

Benn: I meant first mate! Not husband!

Benn: babe, don’t be mad! I didn’t mean it like that…I panicked and texted…also the cops are here

Benn: bail me out of jail, please

Katakuri Charlotte 🍡

Katakuri: babe, someone put something in my drink…I swear I just had one and now…I’m all shakey and shit

S/O: oh no! Love, just drink some water. I’m on my way

Katakuri: nah, I’m gonna find my brothers and kick their asses first

Katakuri: I found them and threw them into the river nearby lol

Katakuri: ah shit, I forgot they can’t swim…I have to go save them brb

Katakuri: omg, Y/N, it’s Smoothie, we had to fish big bro out of the water…come to the hospital asap

Killer🔪

Killer: I think I’m gonna stop wearing my mask and just embrace myself

S/O: baby, did you have too much liquid courage?

Killer: babe, someone said I looked like a Barbie so I beat him up

Killer: so apparently there’s a guy Barbie called Ken and he thought I looked like that…I thought he said I looked like a girl

Killer: okay I felt bad so I sang I’m a Barbie girl for karaoke for him…he’s a fan I guess..also I don’t want him to have me arrested

Killer: omg babe he’s a marine, I’m fucked …call Kidd…I need help

Kaido🐉

Kaido: 👁️ ❤️🫵

S/O: you discovered emojis, love?

Kaido: 🙈

S/O: everything alright?

Kaido: need booze…send help

King👑

King: would you love me if I was a worm?

S/O: omg what is this shit?

King: answer the question, Y/N

S/O: yes, I would

King: I had a bet with Queen that you would said no…I have to drink 5 bottles of tequila.

S/O: oh no…are you okay?

King: babe, I started breathing fire?! Did you know I could do that! I also fell over and can’t get up…everyone else is on the floor too…I feel so old rn

King: well at least I know you’d love me as a worm

King: also I lost my mask so I’m the one of the floor with the bag on my head

King: Queen drew a grumpy face on it so you know it’s me…it has a crown too

Queen👑

Queen: zoom zoom zoom zoom

S/O: getting lit, baby?

Queen: you know it, I think I can stage dive this time

S/O: omg no babe! That’s not a good idea!

Queen: babe, I did it…and I’m in the hospital now… hurt my back…but I saved my beer babe! I’m awesome!

#ooc #one piece #one piece kizaru #borsalino kizaru #one piece akainu #akainu sakazuki #aramaki ryokugyu #ryokugyu one piece #katakuri charlotte #katakuri one piece #sir crocodile #one piece crocodile #donquixote doflamingo #doflamingo donquixote #doflamingo one piece #killer one piece #kaido one piece #king one piece #queen one piece

[littlemixnet]

To me, a good ally is someone who is consistent in their efforts – there’s a difference between popping on a pride playlist or sprinkling yourself in rainbow glitter once a year and actually defending LGBT+ people against discrimination. It means showing my LGBT+ fans that I support them wholeheartedly and am making a conscious effort to educate myself, raise awareness and show up whenever they need me to. It would be wrong of me to benefit from the community as a musician without actually standing up and doing what I can to support. As someone in the public eye, it’s important to make sure your efforts are not performative or opportunistic. I’m always working on my allyship and am very much aware that I’ve still got a lot of unlearning and learning to do. There are too many what I call ‘dormant allies’, believing in equality but not really doing more than liking or reposting your LGBT+ mate’s content now and again. Imagine if that friend then saw you at the next march, or signing your name on the next petition fighting for their rights? Being an ally is also about making a conscious effort to use the right language and pronouns, and I recently read a book by Glennon Doyle who spoke of her annoyance and disappointment of those who come out and are met with ‘We love you…no matter what’. I’d never thought of that expression like that before and it really struck a chord with me. ‘No matter what’ suggests you are flawed. Being LGBT+ is not a flaw. Altering your language and being conscious of creating a more comfortable environment for your LGBT+ family and friends is a good start. Nobody is expecting you to suddenly know it all, I don’t think there’s such a thing as a perfect ally. I’m still very much learning. Even recently, after our Confetti music video I was confronted with the fact that although we made sure our video was incredibly inclusive, we hadn’t brought in any actual drag kings. Some were frustrated, and they had every right to be. You can have the right intentions and still fall short. As an open ally I should have thought about that, and I hadn’t, and for that I apologise. Since then I’ve been doing more research on drag king culture, because it’s definitely something I didn’t know enough about, whether that was because it isn’t as mainstream yet mixed with my own ignorance. But the point is we mess up, we apologise, we learn from it and we move forward with that knowledge. Don’t let the fear of f**king up scare you off. And make sure you are speaking alongside the community, not for the community. Growing up in a small Northern working-class town, some views were, and probably still are, quite ‘old fashioned’ and small-minded. I witnessed homophobia at an early age. It was a common thought particularly among men that it was wrong to be anything but heterosexual. I knew very early on I didn’t agree with this, but wasn’t educated or aware enough on how to combat it. I did a lot of performing arts growing up and within that space I had many LGBT+ (mainly gay) friends. I’ve been a beard many a time let me tell you! But it was infuriating to see friends not feel like they could truly be themselves. When I moved to London I felt incredibly lonely and like I didn’t fit in. It was my gay friends (mainly my friend and hairstylist, Aaron Carlo) who took me under their wing and into their world. Walking into those gay bars or events like Sink The Pink, it was probably the first time I felt like I was in a space where everyone in that room was celebrated exactly as they are. It was like walking into a magical wonderland. I got it. I clicked with everyone. My whole life I struggled with identity – being mixed race for me meant not feeling white enough, or black enough, or Arab enough. I was a ‘tomboy’ and very nerdy. I suppose on a personal level that maybe played a part in why I felt such a connection or understanding of why those spaces for the LGBT+ community are so important. One of the most obvious examples of first realising Little Mix was having an effect in the community was that I couldn’t enter a gay bar without hearing a Little Mix song and watching numerous people break out into full choreo from our videos! I spent the first few years of our career seeing this unfold and knowing the LGBT+ fan base were there, but it wasn’t until I got my own Instagram or started properly going through Twitter DMs that I realised a lot of our LGBT+ fans were reaching out to us on a daily basis saying how much our music meant to them. I received a message from a boy in the Middle East who hadn’t come out because in his country homosexuality is illegal. His partner tragically took their own life and he said our music not only helped him get through it, but gave him the courage to start a new life somewhere else where he could be out and proud. There are countless other stories like theirs, which kind of kickstarted me into being a better ally. Another standout moment would be when we performed in Dubai in 2019. We were told numerous times to ‘abide by the rules’, which meant not promoting anything LGBT+ or too female-empowering (cut to us serving a four-part harmony to Salute). In my mind, we either didn’t go or we’d go and make a point. When Secret Love Song came on, we performed it with the LGBT+ flag taking up the whole screen behind us. The crowd went wild, I could see fans crying and singing along in the audience and when we returned it was everywhere in the press. I saw so many positive tweets and messages from the community. It made laying in our hotel rooms s**tting ourselves that we’d get arrested that night more than worth it. It was through our fans and through my friends I realised I need to be doing more in my allyship. One of the first steps in this was meeting with the team at Stonewall to help with my ally education and discussing how I could be using my platform to help them and in turn the community. Right now, and during lockdown, I’d say my ally journey has been a lot of reading on LGBT+ history, donating to the right charities and raising awareness on current issues such as the conversion therapy ban and the fight for equality of trans lives. Stonewall is facing media attacks for its trans-inclusive strategies and there is an alarming amount of seemingly increasing transphobia in the UK today and we need to be doing more to stand with the trans community. Still, there is definitely a pressure I feel as someone in the public eye to constantly be saying and doing the right things, especially with cancel culture becoming more popular. I s**t myself before most interviews now, on edge that the interviewer might be waiting for me to ‘slip up’ or I might say something that can be misconstrued. Sometimes what can be well understood talking to a journalist or a friend doesn’t always translate as well written down, which has definitely happened to me before. There’ve been moments where I’ve (though well intentioned) said the wrong thing and had an army of Twitter warriors come at me. Don’t get me wrong, there are obviously more serious levels of f**king up that are worthy of a cancelling. But it was quite daunting to me to think that all of my previous allyship could be forgotten for not getting something right once. When that’s happened to me before I’ve scared myself into thinking I should STFU and not say anything, but I have to remember that I am human, I’m going to f**k up now and again and as long as I’m continuing to educate myself to do better next time then that’s OK. I’m never going to stop being an ally so I need to accept that there’ll be trickier moments along the way. I think that might be how some people may feel, like they’re scared to speak up as an ally in case they say the wrong thing and face backlash. Just apologise to the people who need to be apologised to, and show that you’re doing what you can to do better and continue the good fight. Don’t burden the community with your guilt. When it comes to the music industry, I’m definitely seeing a lot more LGBT+ artists come through and thrive, which is amazing. Labels, managements, distributors and so forth need to make sure they’re not just benefiting from LGBT+ artists but show they’re doing more to actually stand with them and create environments where those artists and their fans feel safe. A lot of feedback I see from the community when coming to our shows is that they’re in a space where they feel completely free and accepted, which I love. I get offered so many opportunities to do with LGBT+ based shows or deals and while it’s obviously flattering, I turn most of them down and suggest they give the gig to someone more worthy of that role. But really, I shouldn’t have to say that in the first place. The fee for any job I do take that feels right for me but has come in as part of the community goes to LGBT+ charities. That’s not me blowing smoke up my own arse, I just think the more of us and big companies that do that, the better. We need more artists, more visibility, more LGBT+ mainstream shows, more shows on LGBT+ history and more artists standing up as allies. We have huge platforms and such an influence on our fans – show them you’re standing by them. I’ve seen insanely talented LGBT+ artist friends in the industry who are only recently getting the credit they deserve. It’s amazing but it’s telling that it takes so long. It’s almost expected that it will be a tougher ride. We also need more understanding and action on the intersectionality between being LGBT+ and BAME. Racism exists in and out of the community and it would be great to see more and more companies in the industry doing more to combat that. The more we see these shows like Drag Race on our screens, the more we can celebrate difference. Ever since I was a little girl, my family would go to Benidorm and we’d watch these glamorous, hilarious Queens onstage; I was hooked. I grew up listening to and loving the big divas – Diana Ross (my fave), Cher, Shirley Bassey, and all the queens would emulate them. I was amazed at their big wigs, glittery overdrawn make-up and fabulous outfits. They were like big dolls. Most importantly, they were unapologetically whoever the f**k they wanted to be. As a shy girl who didn’t really understand why the world was telling me all the things I should be, I almost envied the queens but more than anything I adored them. Drag truly is an art form, and how incredible that every queen is different; there are so many different styles of drag and to me they symbolise courage and freedom of expression. Everything you envisioned your imaginary best friend to be, but it’s always been you. There’s a reason why the younger generation are loving shows like Drag Race. These kids can watch this show and not only be thoroughly entertained, but be inspired by these incredible people who are unapologetically themselves, sharing their touching stories and who create their own support systems and drag families around them. Now and again I think of when I’d see those Queens in Benidorm, and at the end they’d always sing I Am What I Am as they removed their wigs and smudged their make up off, and all the dads would be up on their feet cheering for them, some emotional, like they were proud. But that love would stop when they’d go back home, back to their conditioned life where toxic heteronormative behaviour is the status quo. Maybe if those same men saw drag culture on their screens they’d be more open to it becoming a part of their everyday life. I’ll never forget marching with Stonewall at Manchester Pride. I joined them as part of their young campaigners programme, and beforehand we sat and talked about allyship and all the young people there asked me questions while sharing some of their stories. We then began the march and I can’t explain the feeling and emotion watching these young people with so much passion, chanting and being cheered by the people they passed. All of these kids had their own personal struggles and stories but in this environment, they felt safe and completely proud to just be them. I knew the history of Pride and why we were marching, but it was something else seeing what Pride really means first hand. My advice for those who want to use their voice but aren’t sure how is, just do it hun. It’s really not a difficult task to stand up for communities that need you. Change can happen quicker with allyship.

Jade Thirlwall on the power, and pressures, of being an LGBT ally: ‘I’m gonna f**k up now and again’

#jade thirlwall #lgbt

[vampiregirl1797]

Being in Love & Working at the BAU

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

GIF Not Mine.

Click Here For Masterlist.

Word Count: 2,817

Warnings: none that I can think of.

Summary: Y/N realised she was in love with the boy genius of the BAU about six months ago, and she’s been working hard at keeping it under wraps since. Problem? She works with profilers.

When JJ began dating Will it had been obvious to the team from the get go, though the blonde believed she’d done a wonderful job at keeping it from us. At that point, I’d sworn to refrain from hiding anything from the team, because chances are they knew before I worked up the courage to tell them, and also I hated keeping secrets from those I loved.

However, from the moment I realised that I was developing feelings that most definitely were not platonic for a certain member of the team, I found myself taking back my original vow and amending it to the following: be honest about everything but this. And it was difficult. I was constantly monitoring my expressions, my body language and my words whenever I was around him. It was exhausting and stressful, but on the plus side I was almost certain the rest of the team had no idea what was going on. 

I blinked, bringing myself back to the present, seeing as I was at work, focus was key. Though to be fair, almost all of the team had retired to their hotel rooms at that point, so I wouldn’t actually be penalised for getting lost in my thoughts for a minute or two. My eyes flickered over the clear board covered with pictures from the three different crime scenes, and individual pictures of each victim. I always wondered what they were thinking in those photos, they always looked happy and it seemed almost wrong that their happiness had to be in the same vicinity as the gruesome images that portrayed their murder. 

With a sigh, I grabbed my now empty coffee cup and headed over to the small kitchenette in the station. My gaze fell onto Spencer as I filled my mug and I found myself reaching for a new one to pour him a beverage without even thinking about it.

‘Hey Spence,’ I murmured, my voice soft to avoid startling him too badly as I gently placed his steaming hot beverage in front of him.

‘Hey.’ He returned my smile, his brown eyes shining with exhaustion and warmth, ‘what are you still doing here?’

‘Oh, I—.’ I broke off with a sigh, the genuine concern in his eyes made it impossible to lie to him, especially when it was obvious he already knew the truth, ‘I couldn’t bring myself to leave.’ My eyes fell on the clear board again, and lingered on the happy smiling images before I forced myself to look into the warm and comforting eyes of Dr. Reid, ‘I knew if I did I wouldn’t sleep anyway, so I guess I just didn’t see the point.’

‘I understand.’ His eyes fell to the mug he was now holding between his hands as he spoke, and then lifted to meet mine when he was finished. I felt my heart skip a beat in response, as it always did when his beautiful oak eyes were focused on me.

‘We’re quite the pair, huh?’ I chuckled, running a hand through my hair and fighting back the yawn that wanted to escape my throat, ‘how have you been sleeping?’

I saw how hard he fought to keep the exhaustion from his expression before he admitted defeat and let me see it.

‘Spence,’ I murmured, my hand reaching out and grasping his left one. He removed it from his cup and turned it over so that our hands were linked together, ‘is there anything I can do?’

He’d confided a few months ago that he’d been having really awful, vivid nightmares that kept waking him up throughout the night. Eventually, he avoided sleep all together out of fear of what his unconscious mind was waiting to torture him with. I’d offered some tips that had helped me when I’d gone through the same thing: camomile tea, warm baths with lavender oils and playing a soothing playlist to fall asleep to. Since then he’d been sleeping better, but I’d noticed the familiar dark circles starting to form underneath his eyes again.

‘I do have an idea, but if it would make you uncomfortable then I understand.’ He said, biting his lip and subconsciously holding my hand tighter.

‘Okay, what is it?’ Unable to be unaffected by the anxiety that was practically pouring out of him.

‘I read a study that found those who slept in the same bed as their partner reported a higher quality of sleep and no nightmares.’ He spoke so softly that I had to strain to hear him, and when I did, I had to take a minute to process what he’d suggested.

He wanted me to sleep in the same bed as him. I felt different emotions start to I whirl inside of me, each generating a different answer. The anxiety told me that it absolutely was not a good idea. I already had romantic feelings for Spencer, what if doing this made it all the more complicated and more difficult to hide? Another part of me was determined and demanded that I took the opportunity to comfort him, because I loved him and how was I supposed to turn him away when he needed me to help him? But when I looked over to Spencer’s expression I felt the inner turmoil inside my mind fade away—he looked tired, vulnerable and hopeful. All I felt then was a strong desire to help him get a good nights rest and hopefully keep the nightmares at bay. I couldn’t be selfish with him, and if he needed me I was going to help him, even if it meant me being exposed to the feelings I’d been trying to suppress for months now.

‘Okay, but I warn you— I’ve been told I cuddle in my sleep.’ I said, keeping my tone light to diffuse the tension that had formed between us.

He chuckled, the sound was wonderful and I found myself joining him with ease as we both stood to head back to the hotel. According to the clock in the station it was ten thirty, so hopefully we’d get at least eight hours of sleep. As we made our way to the elevator, I wondered how much one night could alter a dynamic between two people.

//

I woke to the sound of my phone ringing, emitting Garcia’s personalised ringtone—‘Baby girl’ by Bryce Vine. My hand went to reach for it, but I stopped short when I realised I couldn’t move. Before I had the chance to panic, Spencer’s familiar scent invaded my nostrils; I could smell the mint smell of his shampoo, the faint remnants of his woodsy cologne and the vanilla from the hand lotion he’d borrowed before bed. He was spooning me from behind and I was helpless to stop myself from melting further into his warmth and turning my head to further take in his comforting scent. I was just on the precipice of falling back into the most peaceful sleep I’d had for years when the phone started to ring again. 

Spencer stirred this time and grabbed it, groggily promising that he’d be in soon before hanging up and tossing his phone onto the carpeted floor.

‘Was that Garcia?’ I asked, clearing my throat in an attempt to remove the sleep from my voice.

‘Yeah, they have a lead and want us in as soon as possible.’ He sighed, his grip not loosening from around my waist, ‘that was the best nights sleep I’ve had in... god I can’t even remember.’

‘It was for me too.’ I admitted softly, fighting the emotions waging a war inside my head.

I was insanely comfortable in his arms, as if I belonged there... as if I was home. But I was sure to remind myself that the feeling was one-sided—Reid didn’t feel that way about me, and why would he? I was his colleague and a friend they trusted enough to confide in about his sleeplessness. Now was not the time to get lost in my own feelings, this had been about him and I refused to allow myself to get lost in my own head.

‘We should get going.’ I murmured, reluctantly easing from his grip and heading for the bathroom to get dressed. 

By the time I emerged, Spencer was gone and I tried to ignore the way that made my stomach drop to my feet. I sent a thumbs up to the text he sent me:

Headed to the station, I’ll see you there. Thanks again for last night. Spencer.

When I arrived at the station I headed straight for the coffee before joining the others at the rectangular table in the conference room. I noticed Emily’s surprised look when she noticed I hadn’t bought a mug for Spencer but I ignored it, unwilling to focus on how I was feeling. Right now I had a job to do, there was no time to deal with the rejection and abandonment coursing through my veins. 

‘Garcia found a link, each victim was registered to a chat room discussing different fantasy novels.’ Hotch announced from where he was stood at the head of the table, his head down as he flicked through one of the case files.

‘And each agreed to a face to face meeting the night before their death with someone by the username Red Youn. I tried tracking the IP address but he’s a smart cookie and re-routed through about a million different servers.’ Garcia revealed from the speaker in the centre of the table.

‘Red Youn is an anagram for your end.’ I thought aloud, ignoring a certain pair of eyes I could feel boring into the side of my head, ‘what if he sees himself as the antagonist in his own version of a fantasy novel?’

‘That would explain the similarities in victimology.’ Morgan commented, talking about their almost identical appearances. 

‘But how would he know that before meeting them?’ My lips pursed, ‘were any of the women in contact with anyone new before they died?’

‘Ahh, sugar you always ask the best questions.’ Garcia praised, ‘yes all three women spoke to a man with the same number on the days leading up to their death. This included sending photographs and discussing their favourite villains in different fantasy novels. I’m sending you the name and address of the person this number is registered to.’

‘Garcia you are wonderful.’ I said, a genuine smile forming on my lips, it was small but it was the first sign of happiness I’d shown since I’d left my hotel room this morning.

‘Aw, tell me something I don’t know.’ She teased before she hung up and we all geared up and headed for the unsub’s residence. 

We had a suspect to arrest.

//

We’d managed to apprehend Jacob Kerwoski successfully and we’d all decided to celebrate with a meal prepared by Rossi at his humble abode. After we’d finished the food we all separated off for different activities— Derek had challenged Garcia to a game of darts, Rossi and Hotch were talking in the library and sharing stories of past cases, Emily and JJ were sat outside each holding a glass of wine and whispering about something they had to keep their voices low for. Reid and I were sat in the living room, I was personally too full to move so I was slowly sinking further and further into the soft cushions around me.

I was grateful that my stomach felt like it was exploding, it provided a distraction from the elephant in the room. I hadn’t directly spoken to Reid since this morning and I didn’t know how to break the awkwardness that existed between us now. I knew it was partly due to my inability to hide my rejection this morning after I’d returned to an empty room once I’d dressed. But it wasn’t his fault that I’d taken it so personally due to my romantic feelings for him. 

‘Reid?’ My voice was soft and tentative.

‘Y-yeah?’ He stuttered, surprised that I’d broken the silence in the room.

‘I’m sorry how I’ve been acting around you today. I just wanted you to know that it’s nothing to do with you, it’s my own issues that I need to deal with.’

He was silent for a long moment after I spoke, his eyes just staring into mine as if he were debating whether or not he should say something. It was a look I was used to seeing on his face— Spence often had thoughts, facts and information swimming around in his head and he had to filter himself. But his next words took me by surprise and had my heart beating out of my chest.

‘I know how you feel about me, Y/N.’ His voice was soft that I questioned if I’d heard him correctly, but the serious expression on his face assured me that I had.

‘H-how do I feel about you Spence?’ I asked, nervously clearing my throat.

‘For the first few years of us knowing each other, you cared for me as a friend, but that changed about six months ago. I don’t know why, and nothing obvious changed in your behaviour. You still bring me coffee, still hug me when I need it, still offer to help me with anything and everything when I need someone to rely on. But the way you look at me now, it’s... softer and warmer. You didn’t used to look at me that way before.’ He said, his voice slower than it usually was when he explained something, his calmness made my heart stutter in my chest.

‘The way you look at me now, it’s the same way that JJ and Will look at each other, except more intense.’ He scooted closer to me on the sofa, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from his body, ‘I noticed it because I’ve been looking at you the same way for the past year.’

I blinked and my mouth fell open as my brain short circuited with the new information. Spencer had been looking at me the same way— how had I never noticed that before? I’d been so concentrated on not revealing my feelings— that I’d apparently sucked at doing— that I hadn’t noticed a change in Spence’s behaviour like he had in mine. I’d say I was a terrible profiler but I knew that I never would have noticed regardless of anything else, because I’d always believed he deserved better than me.

‘Y-you love me?’ I breathed, the emotion in my voice rendering me incapable of speaking higher than a whisper.

‘I do.’ His smile was soft, his eyes sparkled with an affectionate warmth that simultaneously made my heart melt, and breath catch in my throat.

I’m not sure who moved forward first, or if we both moved at the same time, but the next thing my mind registered was his lips moving agains mine. It started out tentative, but as Spencer’s hand slid in my hair and pulled me even closer to his chest, the kiss deepened. My hands went to his shoulders and slid up to his scalp to curl into his tousled hair. I felt him moan into my mouth when I gently tugged on the strands, and when he started to guide me to lay back onto the sofa I went willingly, pulling him along with me. 

It was hard not to get too lost in the kiss, or to take it further than we should, because finally being with him just felt so right and natural. But eventually we pulled away, reminded that we were at risk of someone walking in on us when Garcia and Derek started cheering in the other room.

‘That was...’ I trailed off, my brain still too lost from the electricity of the kiss, ‘wow.’

‘I-I ugh couldn’t agree more.’ Spencer murmured, his hand sliding from my hair so that he could wind his arm around my shoulders. 

As I melted into his side, we chatted quietly for the rest of the night, our voices no higher than a whisper as it wasn’t necessary and it allowed us to revel in our own little bubble. It was much later, when we were both on the cusp of sleep that I nuzzled my face into the side of his neck and murmured the words I’d been holding back for six months now.

‘I love you Spence.’ My eyes fluttered closed and just before I fell into unconsciousness, I heard my genius return the sentiment.

I fell asleep with a smile on my face and a heart overflowing with pure happiness.

A/N: As you can probably guess I’m still watching criminal minds, and finding myself wishing a man like Spencer Reid existed in real life. I hope you enjoyed this one-shot!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #Criminal Minds

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Love the story but will we ever know why Jamie was in prison? Ten years is a very long time so it must have been serious yet everyone is so forgiving, so understanding and very accepting of a man who was incarcerated for such a long time. I’m not sure I could trust him so quickly.

anonymous asked: Still wondering, why was Jamie in prison? Long sentence must mean serious crime. Just curious.

—

It Does My Heart Good: Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Chapter 14

Claire reached across the table to squeeze her husband’s hand. “I’ll wash up. You two - why don’t you sit on the back porch? It’s so nice outside - we haven’t really taken advantage of it yet.”

Brianna raised a ruddy eyebrow at her father. “Do you still have that bottle of Oban I gave you as a housewarming gift?”

Jamie snorted. “Of course, lass - did ye think yer mam and I had drank the whole thing already? It’s just been the two months!”

“You’ve gotten so much done already - how was I supposed to know?” Brianna pushed her chair back from the table. “I’ll get us set up. See you there?”

As his daughter breezed by, Jamie stood and gathered the three dinner plates. Claire’s hand gently touched his elbow, and he looked over at her.

Smiling. Always smiling.

“Go. Use the nice tumblers. Something’s eating at her - maybe you can find out what it is?”

He leaned over for a kiss. “I’ll just listen. I’m good at that, aye?”

She kissed him again. “Aye. Now go.”

He found Brianna curled up on one side of the bench he’d set up at the corner of the porch. Watching the late summer sunset.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” 

She looked up at him, and gratefully took the tumbler of whisky as he sat beside her. “It is. You two really lucked out with this place.”

Softly he clinked his glass against hers. “I’ve really lucked out wi’ a lot of things this past year, Brianna. Had ye told me a year ago that I’d be here, wi’ you - marrit to yer Mam, and stateside, weel...”

“Do you miss it?” She swirled the whisky, inhaling deeply.

“What? My empty life in Glasgow, and the blokes I unloaded trucks with?”

She pursed her lips. Not looking at him.

Patiently he waited.

“I’ve thought long and hard about the best way to ask you this - but there’s not a good way, and there will never be a good time.” She sighed.

He stiffened. “What is it you wish to know?”

She took a sip of the Oban. “Why were you in prison? Ten years is a really long time.”

He knew this day would come, of course. He had told Claire everything, their first night back together, in her old bedroom at Lamb and Fez’s home. Prepared for criticism...he had experienced only understanding, and forgiveness.

He sighed.

“Aggravated larceny.”

“Ten years for that?”

“I was twenty-four years old. Had lost your Mam, and both of my parents. I was very, very angry, Brianna.” He sipped his whisky, watching the sun sink behind the trees. “I fell in wi’ a very rough crowd. Burglars. Mostly petty things. But this one man, he kept talking about a ‘big score.’“

“Me and two other men, we broke into a warehouse. The two of them meant to re-sell the stolen goods - I was just along for the ride.” He pursed his lips. “Vitamin supplements. Very easy to re-sell. We just didn’t count on there being a security guard there.”

Brianna sat as stiff and still as a board beside him.

“I tied him up as the others made off with boxes and boxes of vitamins.  We had another man driving the get-away truck. I had a gun, but the guard knew I wouldnae hurt him.”

The man hadn’t even been scared. Had stared him down. Challenging.

“The plan was that I’d be the first back to the truck - to sit up front with the driver. And the two others would follow - pack up the truck and sit wi’ the merchandise in the back. All went according to plan. We were in and out in less than an hour.”

“How did you get caught?”

“Charles Stuart always was an idiot. And that night proved it - because on the way out, he hit the guard very hard in the back of his head. The man nearly died, but he called for help. We didnae even make it to the drop-off point before we were arrested.”

“Ten years sounds like a harsh sentence for vitamins. Especially when you didn’t actually steal anything.”

Jamie shrugged. “The lads made off with several hundred thousand pounds worth of vitamins. The value of that brought the charge up to ‘aggravated.’ And then they nearly killed the security guard.”

“But you didn’t do any of that.”

“But I was there, Brianna. I helped them commit the crime. And I had already been arrested a few times - so they went harsh on me.”

She nodded. Processing. 

“I’m not ashamed of you, you know. Knowing this about you - it doesn’t change anything.”

He set down his tumbler and tentatively reached across the bench to squeeze her hand. “Ye have no idea how much it means to me, to hear you say that. It’s all in the past - I’m no’ that man anymore. It proves that I wasnae fit to raise you as a wee bairn, even if you and yer Mam had been in Scotland.” He turned to face her, eyes blazing. “It may sound strange, but prison changed my life for the better. It gave me the strength to stand up for myself, and to never allow myself to ever get wrapped up in other people’s problems anymore.”

She squeezed his hand in return. “I know. It’s one of the many things I admire about you. It gave you the courage to respond to my letter, didn’t it?”

He nodded. “I wish, so much, that you and me and your Mam could have been together all of these years. But I wasnae ready to be a da. Not then. But I am now, Brianna. I owe that to you.”

She blinked back tears. “You don’t owe me anything. Ever. And thank you for telling me.”

“Well, you asked,” he teased. “Claire and I - we promised honesty to each other, always. I vow the same to you.”

“Then let me tell you something honest, and true. I’m proud you’re my father.”

His tears shone in the twilight, and he crushed her to him. So grateful for second chances.

#Anonymous #;mod gotham #adoption au

[raevenlywrites]

The Ties That Bind 18 of ???

The courtyard seemed enormous in the evening, the dusky shadows erasing the edges of the crowd as night ate away at the remaining daylight. And the remaining time before the serpiente arrived.

I’d flown out and consulted with Zane, bringing with me the soldiers Raymond and Anderios had deemed fit to join the serpiente. We’d all agreed it would be best for their number to camp for the night and approach the keep in full daylight. It would give the two solider groups a chance to acclimate to one another, and it would give me time to assemble and address my people.

My people. I kept thinking of them as if I were already their monarch, already the final voice of authority in our kingdom. In truth, I had no illusions about that; the council of generals had only listened to my mother when it seemed to suit them. But still. The Tuuli Thea swore certain oaths when she took the crown, and those oaths currently bound my mother, not me. We’d let our grief for Xavier get in the way of the transition, putting off the ceremony until our brief mourning period had passed. Tonight, I was forcibly reminded of why my kind did not overly give themselves to grief. There was no energy left for living, if tears were wept for every shed feather. Had I simply gone on with the ceremony after the funeral, this would be my kingdom now, and I would not be waiting stoically while my mother addressed our people.

“And it is our fervent hope that as our Danica has brought peace to those who have fallen, her reign shall bring peace to our lands. It is with that hope that we have invited the serpiente Arami here to continue the talks that began in the Mistari lands. We respect and admire his highness’s courage and tenacity, to journey into the heart of our lands where he so sorely outnumbered--“

I did my best to keep my face completely neutral. This was supposed to be a reassurance of friendly intentions. It sounded more like my mother was advising an ambush.

”--and so we ask that you all remain in your homes if you feel unsafe, to avoid any complications--“

This... this was not what I wanted at all. My citizens weren’t under house arrest. Yes, it would be simpler to just keep everyone out of the way, but I was hardly going to turn the Keep into a militarized zone. That was the opposite of the goal. I wanted the people of the Keep as accustomed to the serpiente as the folks of the fields seemed to be. ”--and assure you that there will be guards around the serpiente encampment at all times--“

This was ludicrous. We weren’t taking the visiting serpiente prisoner. Where was she getting all this?

”--and any who wish to hear the discourse will be welcome to sit in in the Court’s eaves--“

The Court? Did she really think I was going to have talks with Zane in the middle of the Court, as if we were on trial? I’d already told the generals we would be using the war room. Damn her, she was doing it again! How could I have agreed to let her speak for me?

Because I hadn’t had a choice.

Because she was still technically queen.

The ceremony for the Tuuli Thea was traditionally held on the night of the full moon, when the courtyard was bathed in light. It was the only space large enough to hold all who wished to witness, from the highest ranking raven to the lowliest sparrow farmer. The new queen would accept oaths of fealty from her Royal Flight, her generals, and any subjects who wished to pledge themselves to the Tuuli Thea. Most often, only the youngest folks did so, adding their faith and vows to the generations’ before. Each oath was a stone added to the magics that protected our fortress. It was a celebration of those of us that remained, a small but determined link added to the chain of our proud people.

I had put it off, because in the face of Xavier’s death, I could not spend the night looking into the faces of so many young people, as fresh and full of life as my brother had been. As Zane’s brother had been. Truly, Gregory’s pained face still haunted the dark space behind my eyes when I closed them in search of strength. It was a small mercy that the last sight I had of Xavier was strong, and determined.

No, I had been unable to bear the thought of looking into the eyes of so many youths that mirrored my last thoughts of my brother, knowing that in them all I would see was the pain of a dying cobra.

So now I sat, as my mother hedged her bets and refused to commit, and knew I only had myself to blame.

”--and so we invite you all to help us welcome the serpiente to the Keep, and move forward towards peace and prosperity. And with that in mind, I now invite my daughter, Danica Shadae, future Tuuli Thea, to deliver her announcement.”

I felt myself stare as if struck by a hammer, as my mother turned to beckon me forward. Zane’s arrival had been my announcement; she’d already delivered and mangled that. What more did she expect me to say.

“Give them something to look forward to,” she whispered as she kissed my cheeks in acknowledgement. “To take their minds off their fear.”

I blinked. It was a good idea, but she’d given me no time to prepare. I could see that to her, things were apparently going exactly as we’d discussed. I felt like a sleepwalker, trapped in a nightmare about having to recite a ceremonial ballad with no preparation. If I had suddenly aged backward and lost all my clothes, I would not have been less startled than I was now. At least then I would know it was truly a nightmare. This, unfortunately, was all too real.

I squared my shoulders, drew a deep breath, and plastered by practiced smile to my face.

“Good evening, friends and flock. It warms my heart to see all of you gathered here so quickly. I’m sure you’re all very anxious for news of how things went with the Mistari.” Nope, almost certainly not. Surely in my time spent running around in the woods with Zane Cobriana, various news and rumors had already spread. They were looking for something new. This was a disaster.

“As my mother stated,” I fumbled, “the serpiente will be arriving in the morning. Talks at the Misatri were cut short because Zane’s sister announced that she was expecting--“

Give them something to look forward to.’ Gods. These folks couldn’t care less about another Cobriana. I realized now my mother had all but cornered me into announcing my alastair. Rage flared, sudden and irrational. She was right, it was a good move, but this wasn’t what we’d talked about. I did not appreciate her maneuvering me into making the decisions she wanted.

“And has asked that I sing in the birth.”

Not true, not true, so not true. The Shardae magics did not take kindly to my lie, but as I didn’t know it was untrue, I was technically in the clear. Still, I felt my confidence waver as I continued to build this fabrication. I couldn’t have done so as queen, standing on the stones that had accept my vows to serve my people loyally and faithfully. But as only Danica, young and untried and flying in the face of tradition...

“It is my dearest hope and honor that I will be able to bless this child with words of peace that it will actually live to see. That it will live and grow beside my own child, and they will know each other to be dear family.”

I felt a pulse as my words rang out, that eerie, double-ghost echo, that sensation that these words had been said before.

“Tomorrow, we welcome Kiesha’s kin into our home. I hope you all will join me in welcoming them into our hearts.”

The Ties That Bind Tag list: @thehellinsideyourhead @therecouldbecolorsandlove @adventuresofacreesty @writing-with-melon @rainydaydarling @faithfire

Raev’s Gen Tag List (should I tag you guys in this? It IS a thing I wrote. I’m gonna say yes unless you guys are like “no of course not we’re sick of hearing about your stupid fic for a twenty year old book XD)

No one has complained yet so yall gonna keep getting tagged :P

List is currently: @lordkingsmith @writinglyra @drbibliophile @mperialscribe @adie-dee @lexiklecksi @theramwrites @writinginslowmotion @raenawrites @apollon-arium @anika-writes @faithfire @thehellinsideyourhead @adventuresofacreesty

#Raev does fic #hawksong fic #the kiesha'ra #hawksong

[singtotheskiies]

Hi can I make a request? Scott Lang x team cap!reader where they get to know each other in the car ride during Civil War and during the fight 🤣 but like when they open the door like in the movie and he is like asleep and wakes up, the reader is like drooling on him and its funny? And after the home arrest at the end they go and visit him secretly because they escaped with the others. Sorry for my English ❤

request: Hi can I make a request? Scott Lang x team cap!reader where they get to know each other in the car ride during Civil War and during the fight 🤣 but like when they open the door like in the movie and he is like asleep and wakes up, the reader is like drooling on him and its funny? And after the home arrest at the end they go and visit him secretly because they escaped with the others. Sorry for my English ❤

summary: the civil war between the avengers may have bred a lot of tension and strife, but it brought you one good thing—scott lang.

words: 2432

warnings: none, it’s just fluff:))

a/n: scott is a literal angel bb; i got so into writing this imagine🥺🥺i hope you enjoy!!!!

✖️✖️✖️

You sit in the back of the white van, looking straight ahead at the back of Wanda’s head in front of you. Clint is driving, shoulders set stiffly, his knuckles white around the wheel. If you had to pick one word to describe the mood of the car, you would have to go with an obvious “silent.” Everyone seems grim—everyone except for Scott, who’s sitting next to you—so close, in fact, that you could feel him—

“Are you—vibrating?” you ask in disbelief, looking at him sideways.

“I—uh—you just talked to me?”

“Yeah?”

“Oh my god, wow, I definitely haven’t been waiting like years for this to happen, I mean look at you, you’re just—“

You’re full-on staring at him now, brow furrowed in confusion and amusement.

“Thanks—I think?”

“God, I just—I’m such a huge fan of yours. My daughter Cassie loves what you do, she can’t get enough of you on the news. ‘Record it, Daddy!’ she always says when you’re on, and I say, ‘Okay, peanut!’ because I want to watch you as much as she does, and—oh, lord, I’m making such a fool of myself, I’m sorry—“

“Hey, it’s okay! Just—take a breather,” you say, chuckling. “That’s—really flattering, actually. Very nice of you.”

“Oh, wow,” Scott says, and you can actually see him blush at your words. “Um, thanks—that means a lot.”

“Hey, I’ve heard of what you’ve done, too. Pretty amazing stuff,” you say, and his face practically glows.

“Aw, it’s nothing—I mean, compared to you, I’m just insignificant. Like an ant—okay, that was horrible,” he trails off. Once he sees you laughing at his unintended joke, he visibly relaxes and smiles along with you.

“You know, Scott,” you say, “I think the fact you were asked here is pretty telling of your abilities. They wouldn’t have wanted you to come if they didn’t think you were capable.” He looks down shyly, murmuring a thanks, and you grin at him. You’re beginning to get an idea of this man—adorable, dorky, determined with a heart of gold. He’s not too hard on the eyes, either.

“Hey, Scott, tell me some more about your daughter,” you say, and the two of you strike up a conversation.

At some point, Clint yells at the two of you to pipe down, muttering something about not being able to think over your laughter. Wanda just shoots you a smug look, raising her eyebrows suggestively. You roll your eyes at her, muttering “grumpy ol’ Clint” before turning back to Scott and talking at a reduced volume.

✖️✖️✖️

After some time, Scott notices you stifle a series of yawns. Your eyes start to droop, and he finds your slow blinks stupidly endearing. “Sleepy?” he asks softly.

You giggle, and he swears his heart bursts from how cute it is. “Yeah, a little. The car’s moving really smoothly and y—“ You trail off.

“What?”

“It’s nothing, I just—I guess your voice is pretty soothing, too,” you say, and Scott clears his throat subconsciously.

“Uh, thanks! I mean, I think that’s what I should say—sorry, it’s—that’s really nice of you, thanks,” he stutters out, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and pride. You smile at him before yawning again, covering your wide-open mouth with a hand he wishes he could hold. He doesn’t think he could ever work up the courage to do that, but your compliment makes him feel a little powerful. Adrenaline rushing through him, he opens his mouth to make an offer.

“Um, if you’re—y’know—tired, you could always, like, rest your head on my shoulder if you wanted? Of course, I’m not trying to force you or anything, but it might be more comfortable than the window. Or maybe not. But, uh, offer still sta—“ His rambling is cut off by your (very soft and nice-smelling) head softly landing on the offered shoulder. He stiffens at first, unsure of how to react, but eventually leans his head onto yours, feeling your hair brush against his cheek. He fully intends to stay awake to savor every single second of your presence, but your steady breathing, soft body, and comforting smell all but force him to drift softly into sleep.

✖️✖️✖️

The sound of voices outside the van rouses you, and you start when you remember you had fallen asleep on Scott shoulder. God, how embarrassing, you think, sitting up straight. To make matters worse, there’s a dark patch on Scott’s shoulder that makes your heart drop. You couldn’t possibly have—drooled on his shoulder, could you? Hopefully he won’t notice. Looking up, you realize that the two of you are alone in the van. He’s still asleep, leaning back onto the headrest. You’re about to gently shake him awake when the van door slams open, blinding your still-sleepy eyes with daylight.

Scott jumps, also startling awake. “What time zone is this?” he asks, and you laugh before hopping out of the van and realizing that standing in front of you is the rest of your team. You nod and wave at Steve, Sam, and Bucky—you had fought with them a few times before.

Scott rushes by you, exclaiming “Captain America!” and shaking the mentioned hero’s hand vigorously. His eyes are full of adoration as he continues, “It’s an honor! I’m shaking your hand too long—“ He steps back, an awkwardly adorable smile on his face as he clumsily introduces himself to everyone else. After introductions, it‘s time to get suited up, and the two of you walk side by side.

“Hey, uh, I’m sorry for—y’know,” you say, motioning to his still-damp shoulder.

“No, it’s okay—I don’t mind. My mom always used to say that drooling meant you were sleeping really well. So I’m glad you were comfortable,” he says, laughing.

“I most certainly was,” you answer, laughing with him.

“You were so calm meeting them, I mean, wow, that’s impressive! I know you’ve fought with them before, but I would still be losing my mind if I was anywhere near Cap,” he continues.

“They’re just like the rest of us,” you say. “Powerful, yes, but also imperfect people who need help. I’m just here to provide that help.”

“Wow,” Scott says, staring at you with doe eyes. “That’s something else.”

You just smile affectionately at him.

✖️✖️✖️

Scott is speechless for a full minute when he sees you in your fighting gear. Standing stock-still in shock, he manages out a “You—look—wow—even better in person,” and you grin.

“Not too bad yourself, Lang. It suits you,” you say, before chuckling. “Now it’s my turn to make a bad pun.”

Scott manages to quirk one side of his mouth up before Cap’s voice breaks him out of his daze—time to fight.

Punching and ducking and flipping, you manage to land quite a few hits for your team. You’re getting good feedback over the comms, and you continue to fight, maneuvering around the opposing Avengers fluidly. As focused as you are on fighting, you can’t help but notice how innovative and successful Scott’s tactics are. Plus, his commentary makes you chuckle more times than you’d care to admit. One time, he’d even used your shoulder for a running jump, and feeling his tiny feet as they pounded across you was definitely an interesting experience.

There comes a point in the fight where your team needs a little momentum, and Scott offers his help without hesitating.

“I got something kind of big, but I can’t hold it for long. On my signal, run like hell. If I tear myself in half—don’t come back for me,” he says.

“He’s gonna tear himself in half?” Bucky asks.

“You’re sure about this, Scott?” Steve adds.

“Scott, that doesn’t seem reasonable,” you say, trying to conceal some of the overpowering worry in your voice. “You could really get hurt.”

From your hiding place, you can see Scott look right in your direction. “I do it all the time,” he says. “Well, once—in a lab. Then I passed out.” You shake your head at him: this doesn’t sound at all good.

“Scott!” you cry, but he’s already running, repeating “I’m the boss, I’m the boss,” in an apparent attempt to psych himself up. He jumps, landing on Rhodey’s back. In a split second, he’s the size of a building, towering over the airfield.

“Oh my god,” you murmur, staring up at him. Your attention is soon captured by Steve’s hand on your arm.

“We gotta get out of here!” He yells over the noise of the fight.

“We can’t leave Scott!” you scream back, but Steve is already dragging you toward the exit. “Hey, are you hearing me?”

“He’ll be fine!” Steve says, gripping your arm tighter. “He’s smart; he’ll figure it out!” You hear the shot of Tony’s machine heading for the two of you and duck under a car, using the opportunity to pull free of Steve’s hand. Ignoring his calls after you, you break into a run, heading back to where Scott is being tangled up by the spider-kid.

“Scott, c’mon!” you shout through the comm. “Everyone’s safe except for the two of us!”

“Y’know, I’d really like to, but this kid’s got me all tangled up,” Scott yells back. “This stuff is really sti—woah!” His giant form begins to topple, and you run instinctively, jumping and landing a hard hit on the teen—Peter, you thought.

“Sorry, kid,” you say. No hard feelings.” You turn your focus to Scott, who’s about to hit the ground. You can only pray he’s able to size down before he wrecks the whole place—and, very possibly, himself.

At the last possible moment, he shrinks to his normal height, hitting the ground with a thud that makes you wince. Without even thinking, you run to him and kneel down.

“Does anyone have any orange slices?” he quips, and in your utter relief, you wrap him in a tight hug. You notice that even after having fought, he smelled really, really good.

“Ow,” he muttered, and you pulled away.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I totally forgot—“ you stammered. “Did I hurt you at all?”

“No, no, it’s all good,” he said, falling back onto the ground. “It—felt really nice. I mean, yeah, you were pressing against some scrapes and all, but you, uh, well—it was—very nice.”

You sigh in relief before remembering that the two of you were very much in the middle of a battle zone. “We gotta get out of here,” you say. “Are you good to stand?”

“Probably,” Scott says, wincing. “Although I might need some help.”

“Get up here,” you say, standing and reaching a hand out to him. He manages to get upright, but limps a bit and seems generally stiff. You offer an arm to support him as the two of you run, definitely not paying attention to the defined muscles stretching under your hand. The two of you manage to make it to the quinjet, sprinting inside to safety as you dodge blasts from Tony and Rhodey’s suits.

✖️✖️✖️

An hour later, you’re sitting in the quinjet, dabbing some hydrogen peroxide on a cut on Scott’s cheek. You frown as you reach a particularly stubborn spot, shifting so that you draw closer to him, legs further intertwining with his. As you move the cotton gently towards his hairline, your eyes are drawn to his. You’re surprised to find that he’s gazing at you, expression soft and half-lidded in admiration. When he notices you look back, he gives you a shy smile, eyes crinkling up adorably.

“Thanks for helping me back there,” he whispers.

“You’re more than welcome. I couldn’t just leave you there. I was worried.”

“Wow, you—really? About lil ol’ me?”

You hum in affirmation, feeling your heart soar strangely in your throat as you take in the man in front of you. Leaning forward, you press a gentle kiss to his uninjured cheek and get the pleasure of seeing a rosy blush spread all the way down his neck. You reposition yourself so that you’re sitting next to him, placing your head on his shoulder a second time.

And when his hand finds yours, hesitant, searching, you can’t bring yourself to care about anything else.

✖️✖️✖️

You knock on the door, readjusting your dark glasses and ballcap as you wait for Scott to answer. Even though what you’re doing is probably illegal, you know how Scott values connection despite his awkwardness. You’ve taken the liberty of visiting him, bringing him snacks and little gifts and games you’d think he’d enjoy—and, hopefully, best of all—yourself.

You hear his footsteps nearing the door, crashing into something on the way followed by a subdued curse of pain. He’s still grimacing when your eyes meet his, but the expression quickly morphs into one of disbelief.

“W—what are you doing here!” he exclaims, looking equally floored and excited at your presence.

“Thought you might be a little lonely, so I thought I’d help,” you say, lifting up the bag of gifts and food.

“Well—wow—uh—please, come in.”

As you step inside, Scott whirls around the room, adjusting small objects and not-so-small messes as he does do. “Gosh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know anyone was coming. Especially you! I mean, I would have, y’know, actually cleaned up if I’d known—“ He looks at you sheepishly, but you just smile.

“I think it’s perfect, Scott. Now what say we have a look at what I broughtcha, huh?”

He rummages through the bag with the eagerness of a child, and you watch him affectionately exclaim at each new thing he finds. When he reaches the last object, he looks up at you in complete awe.

“Thank you! I—uh—I don’t know what to say,” he says.

“Hey, it’s my pleasure,” you say, beaming at him.

“Um—do you, uh, have anywhere else to go today?” Scott asks, not meeting your eyes.

“Hmm—not that I can think of,” you reply, grinning.

“Would you like to—well, y’know—hang out some? We can try to make a dent in all this food,” he says, voice adorably unsure and excited all at once.

“I’d love that,” you say.

Later that night, he somehow works up the courage to kiss you on the couch while you watch a movie. It’s soft, reverent almost, and he places his forehead on yours afterwards, eyes closed in bliss, awestruck breath coming in the form of a barely-there giggle.

“You’re amazing,” he says, and you assure him you feel the same with another series of short, soft kisses.

#scott lang #scott lang x reader #scott lang imagine #scott lang x you #antman #antman x reader #antman imagine #antman x you #ant man #ant man x reader #ant man imagine #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #mcu #mcu x reader #mcu imagine #marvel cinematic universe #paul rudd #paul rudd x reader #paul rudd imagine #paul rudd x you #avengers #the avengers #avengers x reader #avengers x you #self insert #fanfic #imagine

[nevernotwriting]

You, Me, and Yancy | Chapter 4: Behind Bars

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A chill fell over your arms as you opened your eyes. You were greeted by white brick walls in a large room filled with empty beds. You sat up, groaning as a dull pain filled your side.

This was unlike any hospital you’d ever been in before.

You lifted up the thin, scratchy blanket covering your body and pulled up the striped shirt you definitely weren’t wearing last you could remember. There was a padded dressing on your side, partially covering a huge dark bruise. The whole thing was held in place by several wrappings of bandage around your torso.

Your memory came flooding back to you as you surveyed your injury. You and Mark running for your lives. You lifting up your bloodied shirt. The panic in Mark’s eyes as you fell to the ground, sirens drowning out your hearing as the world faded to black.

You sighed, tossing the blanket aside and sitting on the side of the bed. Maybe there’d be someone around here who could give you some answers.

The door to the infirmary burst open before you could stand. A man in a tweed suit and glasses strode in, accompanied by two others resembling a doctor and a guard.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” the man in the suit drawled. “Welcome to Happy Trails Penitentiary.”

Everything clicked into place. This didn’t look like an ordinary hospital, because it wasn’t a hospital at all; it was a prison. You and Mark must have been arrested after you passed out.

“Shit,” you whispered to yourself, feeling tears spring to your eyes. How the hell were you going to get out of this?

“Now, no need to be nervous,” the man spoke again. “We here believe in rehabilitation over punishment.”

The way he spoke that last word struck fear into your very core. He clenched his fists as he eyed you, as if he were daring you to step a toe out of line. His demeanour changed in the blink of an eye, and he switched back to a cheery tone.

“The ol’ doc here’s just gonna give you another once over, then we’ll escort you to the yard and you can mingle!”

You looked up at the guard, who you assumed would be the one to escort you. He gave you a cold, threatening look. You gulped.

The doctor, who you prayed was actually qualified, changed your dressing, looking pleased that the wound was healing well and no longer bleeding. She gave you a pack of spare dressings and bandages, trusting you to change them yourself after showers. Before you could offer your thanks, you were hauled out and down the hallway by the guard’s firm hand on your shoulder.

“No fightin’,” he threatened, shoving you into the yard.

You looked around, shielding your eyes from the harsh sunlight. Three people were playing basketball on the concrete, and a handful of others stood in groups, talking and casting suspicious glances towards you. Guards were dotted everywhere. You folded your arms as you continued walking, feeling entirely out of place.

You scoffed at yourself. You were technically a criminal; you belonged here as much as everyone else, maybe even more so. No use feeling sorry for yourself now.

You kept wandering until you came across the only other person who was also alone and looking noticeably uncomfortable.

Mark was sat on a bench, hands knotted together as he stared at the ground. You could tell from here that he was frowning and biting his lip, a habit you’d come to recognise as his “thinking” face. He was also picking the skin around his fingernails, meaning there was a level of fear and stress clouding his mind.

“Mark?” You got his attention once you were close enough. He looked up with a startle, his eyes lighting up when he realised it was you.

“Oh, Zero, thank God,” he breathed, jumping up and wrapping his arms around you. You winced at the accidental pressure on your injury.

“Sorry,” Mark withdrew his grasp, still keeping his hands on your shoulders. He studied you for a moment, pressing his lips into a tight line and blinking to hold back tears. “I’m just so happy to see you. How’re you feeling?”

“Not bad, actually. Still a little shaken, but I’m fine.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

“Good, I’m glad,” Mark sighed. “They wouldn’t let me see you in the infirmary. Think they thought I might try and break us out with you slung over my shoulders.”

You scoffed and shook your head at the thought. “Yeah, cause that’d definitely work.”

Mark laughed with you, tension easing from his stance. “You never know. I’d do it if I had to,” he cast you a softened glance. You smiled and looked away. His casually sweet comments were always appreciated, but the intense glares the two of you kept getting from the other inmates brought you back to reality.

“I think I’ve got an escape plan figured out, though. We don’t belong here,” Mark continued, stepping closer to you as a particularly tall, muscular man lurched past the two of you.

“Don’t belong here? Mark, we are technically criminals.”

Mark blinked at you with a scoff of denial. “Well, yeah, but trust me, we got nothin’ on these guys.”

He pointed behind you to a man with a white beard, who was sat talking to younger man with fuzzy ginger hair and glasses.

“See Hank over there? He used to be a meth kingpin. He can make wine in his toilet tank.”

You whipped back round to face Mark with a raised eyebrow and a grin. “Making friends already then?”

“Well you know me, life of the party an’ all that,” he joked, hands on his hips. You rolled your eyes at him.

“For real though, I think these guys are gonna be our best way outta here. Guards are gonna call us in pretty soon, so I’ll lay the plan out for you later.”

 The rest of the day felt incredibly short, which you attributed to the prison lifestyle sinking in already. You were relieved that you and Mark had been placed in a cell together, so you could at least take comfort in a familiar, friendly face. The two of you were in there now, having showered and eaten a few morsels of dinner a couple of hours prior.

You were carefully replacing your dressing, taking deep breaths as you unveiled the gnarly wound.

That’ll probably scar, you thought to yourself.

Mark gave you some privacy by looking away. You winced as you pressed the new dressing into place, tears stinging in your eyes. Next came the bandage, which you had to wrap around you without letting your dressing unstick. You looked behind you to where Mark was sat staring into his lap. You cleared your throat.

“Um… Mark? Could you give me a hand please?”

Mark looked up, jumping up with a helpful smile as he took the bandage from you. You hoped he didn’t notice your breath hitching when his hand brushed your torso as he passed the material round, delicate hands taking care to not press on too hard. He tucked it in on one side and secured it.

“There.” He smiled at his handiwork, but the crease between his eyebrows told you he was more worried than he was letting on.

You felt your throat clench, tears springing to your eyes. A sniffle escaped you before you could stop it. Mark snapped his gaze up to your face.

“I’m so sorry,” you whimpered, covering your face with your hands. “I shouldn’t have told you to go out guns blazing. It’s my fault we’re in this mess.” A sob escaped your chest.

Mark gently took your wrists in his hands, prying them away from your face. His expression was one of sorrow and gentle concern as he slipped his hands into yours.

“Hey, listen. It is not your fault at all,” he said, shaking his head along with his words. He swallowed, briefly flitting his eyes to the floor before he looked at you again.

“If anything, it’s my fault. I was so excited that you were with me, a-and that your first heist was going so well, I let myself get carried away. I’m so sorry. I will get us out of here.” He sighed, trailing one of his hands out of yours and to your face, where he wiped away a stray tear with his thumb. He stared at the spot where his hand stayed, warming your face.

Your heart wrenched at seeing him so distraught, blaming himself for your circumstances. You mustered every ounce of courage you had to mirror him, placing one of your hands on his cheek. His eyes snapped back to yours immediately, and you realised how little distance remained between the two of you.

“If it makes you feel any better, it was still a lot of fun. Minus the getting shot part,” you smiled.

Mark exhaled a laugh through his nose, his eyebrows raising slightly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Mark scanned your eyes for any traces of doubt, then let a smile emerge onto his face. You smiled back at him, rubbing your thumb on his cheek.

His smile died down, a look of serenity and curiosity overtaking him. Your breath hitched in your throat as his eyes flicked down to your lips. He leaned in ever so slightly, and you did the same. His eyes became hooded when only mere inches separated your lips from his, your breath tickling his cheeks as they flooded with a pink hue-

A loud metallic banging noise filled the hall next to your cell, startling the two of you out of your trance. A guard shouted down the hallway.

“Lights out!”

You were submerged in darkness seconds later, left with a yearning heart and a head swimming with emotions.

Next chapter

#a heist with markiplier #ahwm #heist mark #heist mark x reader #heist! mark x reader #yancy x reader #ahwm yancy x reader #ahwm yancy #my writing #nevernotwriting

[emmy-writes-sometimes]

No Shame

You get into a fight with one of the people who accused your brother of killing Ben Rifkin, and your dad actually takes it pretty well. Your mom, though, is a different story.

-

           “Are you sure you want to go?” Your dad asked you as you unplugged your laptop from the kitchen counter and shoved it into your backpack. It had been a week since Ben Rifkin’s death, and almost a week since they arrested your brother, Jacob, for a night. They’d offered to get you a tutor, too, so you wouldn’t have to go back, but you’d said you wanted to look normal and finally they’d agreed.

           The harassment was where it got rough. Normally you were fine at just taking it. You just let them have at it because you knew Jacob was innocent, despite what he was saying on social media. And you let them have at it because they knew that you’d throat punch someone if they really got in your way. Your brother was your best friend, your twin, your confidant, and you were there to defend him just as much as your dad was. Only you were taking on a harder audience; teenagers.

           “I’ll be fine,” you assured him. “If I’m not, I’ll come home at lunch and we can do the tutor. But I think we need to look normal, at least until the trial in May.” Your dad nodded, sighing, rubbing his eyes from lack of sleep. You knew he had barely slept because you’d been in the kitchen until 1 A.M. doing homework and he had just had a cup of coffee at that time.

           “Alright. Just be careful, alright? Anything you say, anything you do, can be used against us. Maybe not shift the blame to you, but it’ll make Jake look guilty.”

           “Yeah, Y/n, don’t make me look guilty,” Jacob said with a smirk as he reached into the freezer for waffles. You rolled your eyes and playfully pushed him out of the way. He may be ten minutes older than you, but you were ten times as likely to tell him when to shut the fuck up.

           “Hey,” your dad interrupted. You looked over at him to see that he wasn’t smiling, even though you and Jacob were. “At least let me take you. I don’t want you walking by yourself. Especially after all this.” You nodded, knowing he was right, and waited for him to put shoes on and get the car keys.

           Fifteen minutes later and you were reassuring your dad that everything was fine, trying to get him to let you out of the car. Everything was most certainly not fine; people were starting to make jokes saying that Jacob killed Ben over you, or he was taking the fall for you, but he wasn’t. Most people were able to see that it was just a stupid rumor and there was absolutely no evidence to back it up. But some people, like Derek, who you honestly thought did it, didn’t seem to care.

           You and Derek had been at odds for years. Your best friend was Sarah, but your least favorite person by far was Derek. And lately Sarah had been on your side, thankfully, and tried to get him to back down. But you knew that it was getting closer to trial, it was the week after spring break, and you knew that Derek was going to try to say something.

           “How do you feel?” Sarah asked you as she saw you walk up to the locker that was right beside hers. You un-did your combination, a little surprised you still remembered it with everything going on, and looked over at her.

           “Awful,” you responded. “I told my dad everything was fine, but I just wanted to get out of the house. It’s like, Mom definitely thinks he did it but she just won’t talk to anyone, and Dad’s so worried about the trial that he’s not even sleeping, and then Jake’s acting like everything is fine and the only things he says about it to me are when he’s crying in the middle of the night over it right before he posts something stupid on social media.” You sighed. “I’m sorry.”

           “No, it’s fine. I get it. Just… You should know that Derek is spreading rumors again.” You rolled your eyes.

           “Of course he is.”

           “He knows about the locker room. With Ben. I had no idea and I kept telling him it was wrong, but he wouldn’t listen. I think he must have looked through the phone.” You were waiting for your dad to catch up on the Ben’s phone was stolen thing, but honestly it might take awhile. But it bought you time to get away from the rumors that you and Ben had done something in the locker room two days before his murder. Or, rather, what he’d done to you. You tried not to think about it. Could it hurt the case? Yeah. It could be a motive. You just needed it not to come out until after the indictment. If that even happened.

           “We only talked about it once and he un-sent the messages. Are you sure?”

           “I don’t know how he knows, but he knows.” You sighed. Suddenly you could feel everyone’s eyes on you a little bit more than usual. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I tried to tell him not to tell anyone, that if it made its way back to the cops…”

           “I’ll just tell my dad later.” Sarah ran a hand up and down your arm, trying to comfort you for a second, before giving you a half smile and walking toward your homeroom. Homeroom didn’t go too terribly; people were looking at you, but luckily you had a teacher who didn’t seem to care and put people in their place when they were talking about you. But it was Chemistry where you had trouble. You and Sarah were usually lab partners, but today the teacher switched it up, and even though you were on a list of people not to put with someone else, she put you with Derek.

           “If it isn’t the killer’s sister,” Derek said to you. “I’m surprised he’d kill for you. Doesn’t seem like he’d do that for a lot of people. Or maybe he’d just do it for anyone.” Derek shrugged, smirking when he saw the look on your face, but you just started getting the solvent in the syringe. He bumped your elbow, causing you two get two drops of iodine in the tube instead of one, and you glared at him.

           “Just shut up, okay? I don’t want to talk about it. And I can always call the DA and come clean if you want to come clean too.” That shut him up for the time being. But after a few minutes of you doing all the work, as usual, he started at you again.

           “But really, though. Did you ask him to do that to you? Because if that was against your will, it was called the r-word. And the r-word is a really great m-” You turned around, pulled your sweater up your sleeve, and punched him with all of the strength you’d learned in the self defense classes the school had called in.

           “Whoa, whoa, whoa, Miss Barber!” The teacher said, looking back at you. You’d knocked Derek off the bench and completely onto the floor. His nose was bleeding. And you knew you were in trouble. With your dad, with the school, and probably with the DA.

           “I’ll go to the office,” you sighed. You gathered your books in your bag, took off your safety gloves and lab coat, and started walking to the office. You pulled your phone out and sent a quick text to your dad – You’re going to be called to come get me in about five minutes. Just so you know.

           “Miss Barber,” the principal said as he saw you walk into the office. “Your teacher called me. She said you punched another student? Derek?”

           “Yep,” you responded. “I’m not answering any questions, so just go ahead and suspend me. I already told my dad he’s going to have to come get me.” You never used to be in trouble. You were always so bold that you told people what you thought and no one else had the courage to say anything about it. But now you were too stupid to care about anything. You wanted all of it to be over, and if it meant coming clean because you were too stupid not to restrain yourself…

           “You broke another student’s nose.”

           “I’d say a week’s suspension should do it. Or, honestly, I might not even bother coming back.” The principal looked at you with wide eyes – why did you want to be punished so bad? Probably because everything with Ben was your fault. At least, that’s what everyone would say once they figured it out.

           “If you want a week’s suspension, a week’s suspension you’ll get. You’re to report back here next Monday at 8 for further punishment. And don’t think I won’t be calling your father to tell him the full story.”

           “I’ll tell him the full story first,” you said. Just as you said that, your father burst into the office. He sighed when he saw you in the chair and waved his hand for you to come along. You could see that he was seething with anger, he was frustrated, and he was extremely pissed off.

           “Y/n,” your dad said to you as he grabbed your arm, walking you out of the school. “Don’t look at anybody else. Just get in the car.” He opened the door for you and you sat down, watching as he crossed to the other side.

           “I’m sorry I couldn’t control myself,” you said to him. He sighed.

           “Babe, you have to be careful with this. He…”

           “I only punched him because he knows something that would be detrimental to the case. And now he’s going to tell everyone else.” Your eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Dad. I just got so mad and scared and…”

           “Let me call the lawyer. She’ll meet us at the house and you can tell her everything.”

           “I wanna tell you first.” He sighed, calling the lawyer to come over, and then he pulled away from the school. He was going to take the long way home. “The week before Ben died, I was in the girls’ locker room after soccer. I was the only one there. Sarah had already left to get us a table for dinner. I was playing music so I didn’t hear him come up behind me. Until he turned me around. And he… you know,” you said. “Tried to go farther than he should have. I kicked him in the balls and left, but…” Your dad sighed, looking over at you with sad eyes.

           “You should’ve told me about that the moment it happened. Sweetheart, that’s called…”

           “I know what it’s called,” you responded. “And people will think it was Jacob’s motive. Which it wasn’t, because Jacob didn’t kill him, but… When I came home and I told Jake about it I made sure not to mention Ben’s name. So unless someone else told him, he didn’t know it was Ben who did that to me.”

           “This could’ve been bad,” he said as he pulled into the neighborhood. “This could’ve been really bad. But if you can prove that Jacob didn’t know it was Ben at the time, then maybe it won’t be as bad as it looks.” He took your hand from where it was sitting. Your dad was the first person you’d told about it in so long that you were trying not to start crying. It was the last thing you wanted anyone to know, but if it would help Jacob, you needed it to.

           “Are you mad?” You asked him as he pulled into the driveway. He didn’t answer you at first. But as he was about to open the front door, he shook his head.

           “No. Not at you. I’m mad at that kid for doin’ something to my daughter. I’m mad at the stars that had to align for all of this to happen. I’m mad that I put you in a position to confront that again. Just promise me you’ll tell the truth. On whatever stand. No matter how bad it looks. We’re here to protect you just as much as we are to protect Jake.”

           “Okay,” you said softly. You walked into the door to see that Jacob’s tutor was packing up to leave for the day, and Jacob looked confused as to why you were home. You gave the tutor a minute to leave and as soon as she did, Joanna pulled into the same spot.

           “Where’s Mom?” Jacob asked.

           “I don’t know, but I’ll tell her later. Right now we just need to figure this out. Come on, both of you.” The three of you sat down in the living room, waiting for Joanna. She walked into the house and immediately she knew something was wrong.

           “What now?” She asked, shutting the door behind her.

           “Y/n has something to tell you. It’s going to come out, but I think there’s a way to make it not reflect on Jake,” your dad said. Joanna looked at you, and then at Jacob.

           “Does he know already?” You nodded. “Does everyone know already?”

           “No, but it’ll get out soon. Because I punched Derek over it.”

           “Oh, God. Just tell me what it is and we’ll figure it out.” You started telling Joanna the story and she started writing everything down, occasionally looking up at you or at Jacob. Both your dad and Jacob shifted uncomfortably, multiple times. And you were crying by the time you finished, knowing how bad it would be. You looked up at Joanna.

           “Thank you for telling me, Y/n. It’s not easy, I know that. Especially in a situation like this. I’ll need some time to figure this out, but I think Andy’s right. If Jacob didn’t know it was Ben that did that to you, then there’s no reason you should be worried.” Your dad gently rubbed at your shoulder, feeling how tense you were. He said goodbye to Joanna and she left, and then the only person that you were going to have to deal with was your mom. You and your mom were already at odds about everything – you were just closer to your dad. It was probably because you were so much like your dad.

           “Jake, why don’t you go upstairs? You shouldn’t have to hear this again.” Jacob nodded and went up the stairs, probably to go play video games to drown out what would inevitably be a full-blown argument. “You want me to talk to your mom first?” You nodded.  

           “I have to own up to it. But maybe you should tell her who I punched.”

           “I’m proud of you for coming to us. I’m not so proud you punched Derek, but I probably would have lost it too. I can’t blame you for that.” Your mom pulled into the driveway and you sighed. She walked in the back door and saw you sitting on the couch with your dad. Your dad stood up.

           “Laur, Y/n needs to talk to you.”

           “About what?”

           “She got in trouble for punching a kid today. I had to take her home. But that’s not what we need to talk about. It’s what it was about.”

           “Why are you being so cryptic? And what the hell, Y/n? You punched another student? Right now? Do you know the possible consequences?”

           “I did it because he was saying stuff about Jacob that wasn’t true. But he was threatening me with something that he wasn’t supposed to know. Nobody was supposed to know?”

           “Know what?” Your mom yelled. “Andy, Y/n, I swear, you have to stop keeping secrets.”

           “Like you don’t have any secrets?” You said back. Your dad jumped in between you.

           “Hey! Both of you. Just sit down and we’ll talk this out, alright? God, you two.” Your mom shut up and sat down on the couch. Waiting for you to start talking. Your dad stood beside you and waited. Throughout the story your mom’s face paled. You could see her get angrier and you wondered if it was the same kind of angry as your dad was. If it was at you or at Derek or at Ben.

           “You just jeopardized your brother’s entire future,” she said to you.

           “I know. But he told me not to tell anyone so I didn’t.”

           “Leave Jacob out of this.”

           “I’m trying to, but it involved Ben.”

           “I’m so ashamed of you, Y/n. For everything. You should think about what you could have just done to your brother’s case.” She stood up and her heels clacked across the floor as she went upstairs, leaving you and your dad. He sat down in front of you, taking your hands.

           “How can she be ashamed of me for…”

           “Not for that. You should never be ashamed to tell someone this happened to you because it did. We’ll figure it out with the case, alright, you don’t need to worry about that. This comes down on you, not your brother, and we’ll deal with it. Like we always do.” You nodded. “And besides. I think it’s kind of awesome that you broke a kid’s nose first try.”

           “It was those extra self defense classes,” you responded. He chuckled.

           “Come on. I’ll put in a frozen pizza and we can watch a movie or something. And I’ll get you some ice for your hand, it’s still pretty swollen.” You looked down to see your knuckles were black with bruises. You hadn’t even noticed. You’d been running off of pure adrenaline since you realized what you’d done.

           A few minutes later Jacob came down, your mom following. She didn’t meet your eyes. But Jacob extended an olive branch and let you get the last soda from the twelve pack in the garage.

           “I didn’t do it,” Jacob said softly as he looked at you. “But if I’d known back then I might have.” You looked down and watched as he went back to the house and tried not to cry because you’d really screwed up, hadn’t you? You sniffled and walked into the house, where things were as normal as they could be, and tried to face the fact that your brother’s case was going off the rails because of you.

           A/N: This is suuuuuuper angsty and I changed the storyline a bit from what you asked but I hope you like it still! I tried to make it fit in with the story a little more.

#defending jacob imagine #andy barber x daughter!reader #andy barber angst

[allesiathehedge]

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tyguhnijok viva procrastination! gbhnjmk,lp.ñ-   l’DDD

Heeeeey guyz~! It’s been a while since I roamed around on my blog, although I have a lingering feeling like I was here just yesterday. I kind’of find it hard to believe that weeks had flied in a blur since ever and that I totally lost track of the time! Of course, it was not my intention to leave all of a sudden. and I do really hope that my temporary absence hadn’t alerted anyone, but if it did, then I apologize for that. .3.”

To sum everything up, I merely got caught up in watching a series called “Murdoch’s Mysteries” a month ago. It’s not an anime, but a Canadian mystery drama television series. I immediately got hooked on as soon as I saw some randomish episodes on TV then hoped on laptop to watch the rest of all available seasons online :’> It even has some brief scenes featuring the inspector and his wife that resemble Salphys here and there, and I really loved it a lot  X’D Geez, those 13 seasons sure felt so long and draining to watch! So proud of completing it and already awaiting for another season! <333

-

Anyway, I finally took my time to answer a mountain of quizzes that had been in the corner for months under the cut~ Again, thank you a skele-ton for bearing with me! Also, where you are, quarantined or not, please stay safe and take care of your health! Don’t forget to wash hands too! Because your life matters the most! To every centimeter of bone! <3 

-

Thank you so much! Your kind words mean a lot to me! 

I never imagined that, since the beginning, the creation of this humerus ship would bring so much joy and fun which it did for multiple times~ 

Even if I’m not as very motivated as I was before, I still sell my soul filled with love to these so-nerdy characters. This nostalgic thing made me realize how much I wanna draw so many things with them again all over the place. Especially playing tricks on each other  ;w;  -

It’s alright, nonnie you aren’t the only one :’D 

Admittedly I hardly update these days, so I assure you it’s pretty okay if you fail to remember it at all, plus the story itself. Heck, if it were me, then I’d not be able to remember every comic nor movie unless I check them out properly. XD -

Heh :3 Assuming it was related to the latest Timetale update, then thanks :3  -

Those cheesy beans~~ Q 3 Q -

Gotta Cheeto Fatsts!  -

Aww! ygurtyuyuiopi I’m flattered :D I’m glad you love my style~ 

Surprisingly, I never thought I would end up loving Alphys more and more, after I started designing her for the first time. Initially I really thought she’d be nothing but a boring and ugly traitor, too much for my taste, or that she’d not be that important for the story plots but my interest had shifted and changed quickly after some time and persistence, ironic eh?  :’3

Yah, sounds like Alphys literally had sort of cosmetic surgery LOL  x3  -

Nothing better than being stuck in my own faboo-paradise-like isolation where I have almost everything I love~ <3 Actually, thanks to my introvert powers, it never kills me nor stress me emotionally at all -amen-. Aside from working home, I don’t have any problem coping with that during the pandemic :’3 

I wish you the same too! 

#StayHome -

Oh, don’t worry too much about that.  Your sincerity is very appreciated! :D Truth be told, I agree it isn’t always easy to see the other side of ours and flaws.

We all overstep our boundaries sometimes too. I myself still have troubles in being supportive as well, but I do what I can just to make everyone ‘happy panda’. We’re humans after all. The more we learn from our mistakes, the better we become. At least, you did the right thing and I admire you for that. Don’t think I’d ever have that courage loool. :> -

I’m still leaning into believing that our gov did a good job and that they managed to implement a lot of strict restrictions and ordinances, such social distancing, suspending transportation and closing any activities to prevent the crowd gatherings, except supermarkets and pharmacies that are only open. 

Frankly, I think they executed that action a little bit too late. If only they listened the warning back in January-February, then we’d be much safer and well prepared. We probably won’t reach the peak until after Easter, but we will have to wait and see what happens next. 

Given the fact that the healthcare system is poor compared to other countries, we do still hope that it gets somewhat worked out so the situation here won’t take a turn for the worse like one from Italy or USA. We already have over 4.400, a great number of people in self-isolation and quarantine, some still getting arrested for fleeing and disobeying, and, from the look of it, the toll of death isn’t definitively a good sign either if you ever ask me. Not to mention, there’s still quite a lot of them not being aware of it... -

.... Maybe  :P Better not become “Chara-virus” then infect all monsters  l’D -

Nice personal shipping preference^^ 

I wouldn’t be surprised if some fans actually do that, and that, regardless of sexual orientation, Alphys would be strait shipped with other females or males, beside Undyne.  -

Thanks for the kind comment^^ 

Yeah lol Sansy loves everything about her~  :> 

What a lucky hus-bean, isn’t he~?  uwu -

Oh gosh, don’t you ever dare break m’soul! Or else I’mma criiii  :’<<<  -

#replies #took me several hours to complete asks #dies #sleepy times x.x #yay brainfarttttt

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #365

“i’m numb to the pleasure, but still feel the pain”

Are there palm trees where you live? No. Do you own any Hello Kitty stuff? If so, what? No. What’s your favorite flavor of ice pop? Blue raspberry. Do you like animal print? What’s your favorite print? Not really. I think animal "print" only really looks nice on, well, animals. Does your dad have any facial hair? Yes. What do you think of foot tattoos? They're not my favorite, but some look nice. I myself wanna get "11121" (a Silent Hill 4 reference) "carved" onto the top of my feet. Do you like bugs or do they scare you? Some do. I've gotten more into them though as my passion for tarantulas expanded to other inverts, like mantises. Ever seen the movie Chernobyl Diaries? If so, did you like it? If not, do you want to see it? I haven't, but I'd be willing to watch it. I find the whole Chernobyl incident to be extremely fascinating, so I'd probably like it. Did your senior class in high school have a class trip? Where did you go? Bitch I wish. :/ Do you have an instagram account? What’s your username? Yeah, two: brittanymphotography and eldritch_obscura. Do you like Gir from Invader Zim? I think he's cute. Do you or would you ever own a gun? Why or why not? No thanks. If I'm not mistaken, I can't legally obtain one anyway because of my suicidal history. I'm fine with having like, pepper spray and a bat handy by the bed, lol. If it was offered for free by a professional, would you get your hair dyed platinum blonde? For FREE? Fuck yeah I'd try it. What do you normally order at Dunkin Donuts? A chocolate frosted donut, and sometimes a plain/cake one. Do you watch football? Favorite teams? No. What about WWE? Favorite wrestler? That's an even bigger no. Funniest thing you’ve ever heard a teacher say? Okay so this is hard to actually explain and it be funny. I had this amazing, kinda charismatically awkward history teacher in high school, and when talking about some legal stuff I can't remember, she deadass quoted "Without Me" by Eminem ("if the FCC won't let me be...") like so casually and everyone fucking died, just from knowing her and her personality. It was just very unexpected. Do you wear a lot of makeup? What do you think of girls who do? No. Girls can wear however much makeup they please. Do you have a savings account? Are you good at saving money? No. I can't really answer the second question because of me never having a steady flow of money. Would you rather have a relationship or casual flings? Relationship, 100%. I would never have a casual fling. Do you know anyone that’s part Native American? Yes. Who was your favorite Spice Girl? I remember none of them. Have you ever tried to poison someone? Yikes, no. Have you ever saved anyone from a fire? No. Have you ever had a seizure? No. I've had sudden spasms, but never a full-on seizure. Have you ever had an out-of-body experience? No. Have you ever had a black eye? No. Have you ever had a tooth pulled? No. Have you ever had pneumonia? I have not. Have you ever had tubes put in your ears? Yes, as a baby. Have you ever been shot with an arrow or bullet? Thank god no. Have you ever had kidney stones? No. Have you even been bitten by an venomous animal? No. Have you ever thought about being in the military? Fuck no. I wouldn't qualify, anyway. Have you ever been sedated or put under anesthesia? Yeah. Have you ever used shrooms or any other hallucinogen? No. What upcoming event are you most looking forward to? I can barely believe my tat appointment is almost here lakjsd;ajwlej;rwe What was the last song you heard? I'm currently listening to Motionless In White's synthwave edit of "Voices" they just put out. I looooove it. What time did you wake up today? Maybe like, 5:20? Is there a vase in the room you’re in? No. Have you recently been insulted? Yes. Compared to someone else of your age and gender; do you feel that you have a lot to offer someone? N O P E How many days a week do you work? I'm unemployed. Is there ONE person you feel more connected to than others? Yes. What is your worst relationship quality? I obsess over the person probably leaving, so especially at the beginning, I'm paranoid and distrustful. I want to emphasize that I'm not the asshole that snoops through her partner's phone out of distrust, but still, the fear is just there. What was your most recent serious injury? A serious one? Man idk. I've had a lot or negligible and smaller ones, but a big one... *shrug* What were you most recently happy about? I was happy to see "synthwave" in this video title, haha. Are you a fan of cake? Oh yes. What is your favorite insect? Butterflies. Is your town beautiful? Ew, no. Do you prefer the city or the country? THE COUNTRY. Have you ever witnessed an eclipse? Lots of lunar eclipses. Do you wear lipstick often? No. You’re going on a date with someone you like. What would you like to do? Considering the pandemic, probably just like... grab fast food and sit and eat at a park. That'd be cute. You’re hanging out with your best friend. What would you like to do? It'd be nice to get back to Avatar: The Last Airbender while hanging out with Doris (her beardie that I adore), too. Have you ever written or considered writing a play? No. Who is considered the “black sheep” of your family? Why? Ha, me. To begin, I like all the "dark" stuff, I'm the unreligious one, the one with political beliefs unlike most of my family, I'm not doing what I should be... Why is your favorite movie your favorite movie? It's just a masterpiece. I love love love animals, African one especially, and I find it to be an amazing story of courage and dedication to family. Plus I shamelessly love all the songs, haha. What’s an odor you hate? GASOLINE. FUCK. What’s a sound you hate? Fingernails on a chalkboard. Or screech-y noises in general. If money was no issue, what would you like to do right now? I was initially gonna say go to Yellowstone, but fuck that hot weather this time of year. So, this brings us back to Venus' terrarium; I'd want to get a new one and better materials. What’s something you’re so good at that you take pride in your skill? I wouldn't say I'm "so good" at it, but I do take pride in my writing. What’s something you’d never ever dare to ask another person? Hm. Under ANY circumstance, I guess "are you pregnant?" There's almost like... no situation where I'd be comfortable asking somebody that. What’s the worst/best thing you’ve done without your parents knowing? We're not getting into that lmao. Do you know anyone who has a hearing deficit? No. What is one thing stopping you from becoming a veterinarian? I could never stand seeing so many hurt and dying animals and still be okay at the end of the day. Are there any opinions you used to have even a few years ago that you look back on and think, “I can’t believe I ever thought that way”? THERE ARE!!!!!!!!!!! A LOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The last time you cried, what was wrong? I fell and skinned my knees when stepping over this barrier Mom made to keep the damn dog out of the hallway and thus my room to fuck with the cat and eat his food. I previously twisted my ankle, fell backwards, and had one other accident with it despite moving stuff, and I didn't cry from pain, just massive frustration. I want this dog GONE. Do you like multi-choice tests or tests you have to write out? Multiple choice. Who last called you ‘beautiful’? Couldn't tell ya, bud. Have you ever caught a firefly? Yeah, I did that lots as a kid. Do you own any camouflage? No. What’s the stinkiest pet you’ve ever had? Uhhh I dunno. Have you ever been on the news? For what? No. Have you ever seen one of your friends get arrested? No. Do you put sprinkles on anything? No, I hate sprinkles. How do you like your steak? Medium well. Long hair on guys: yes or no? Yaaaaaaaas. Is there a basement in your house? If so, what is it used for? No. When was the last time you started a new medication? It's been a while. What is your favourite type of nut? Cashews, I think. Where did you eat the best pizza you’ve ever eaten in your life? I'm so fuckin basic, like my genuine answer is Domino's lmaooo. Did you ever watch The Rugrats when you were a kid? Yeah, I loved that show. I even had the two video games; I was obsessed with the first one in particular. Do you know anyone who was adopted? Yes. Do your parents’ professions match their college degrees? No. Do you write shopping lists on paper or just remember it in your head? I don't do the shopping, so. But I would definitely need to write it down. Have you ever used a lawnmower? No. Have you ever consumed so much alcohol that you vomited? No. Can you tie balloons? No, actually. My hands are just too shaky. When was the last time you were at a pet store? A few weeks ago when we got rats for Venus. Ugh, it is SO overpriced; they come in a box of two, and as I feed her twice a month, it's honestly quite a bit of money. Like if I remember correctly, it's around $16. FOR TWO. SMALL. RATS. I've recommended we just buy them in bulk NOT from an overpriced chain pet store, but the problem with that is then we have *too* many, and the nutritional value of frozen rats apparently does degrade with time, so I don't want to feed my snake poor food. So it's just an annoying thing we have to do. Have you ever taken a pregnancy test? Not like, an at-home one. I've been tested before surgery, but that was just a safety protocol. Does your ex still think about you? "The" ex, probably not. Honestly, who is the last person to tell you that they love you? My mom. What is the last state you were in besides your own? Virginia. Would you go down to see the Titanic if given the chance? Man, that's kinda tempting. Maybe. It'd be super cool. Have you ever seen the Hollywood sign in real life? No. Did you ever see a scorpion in the wild? No, they don't live here. Do you type the proper way? Have you ever typed on a manual typewriter? Yes to both. What was your maternal grandmother’s first name? Cecelia. Name a word that people use locally that outsiders probably can’t pronounce. Conetoe. You said it wrong.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''voices'' by motionless in white

[arotechno]

The Heartless: Chapter 8

Read on Inkitt

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Chapter VIII: in which sometimes we surprise ourselves

After being recognized in my hometown—and tearing through it screaming in the most conspicuous way possible—there was no way I could stay there any longer, so I fled into the northern woods to consider my next course of action. It was only once I was alone with only the trees and creeping undergrowth that I let the tears begin to flow, initially white-hot with anger before sinking into unrestrained grief.

Maybe this was what Bertrand had meant when I said I would only end up getting hurt. But there had been a part of me that was hoping against any kind of rationality that I would return to find my parents alive and well. Even if they had rejected me, being able to chew them out for it would have been far more cathartic than the pain of only reopening a wound that could never be healed. A small part of me may have even been hoping I’d find Basil still here after all these years. But the idyllic notion of even having a home to return to had been a fantasy. Maybe people like me were only ever meant to be transient, like any home we’d ever have could only be temporary unless we built it for ourselves, clawing at the earth trying to create something out of nothing. Maybe this was the natural order of things, like if I tried to fit any sense of permanence or belonging into the caverns of my ribcage it would only ever inevitably be swallowed into dissolution by the empty space.

When I had finally wept myself dry, I reassessed my options. The easy answer would be to head back to Bertrand’s house with my tail between my legs and continue on as if nothing had changed at all. But I had reopened an age-old wound that left a sharp pain in my chest, as if I’d been cut open and left out in the woods to rot until the soil and the trees moved in through the gash that’d been left behind and made a home in the vacant space between my ribs. I concluded, perhaps foolishly, that the only path remaining was forward. No matter the costs, I had to press onward for answers, all the way to the far reaches of the kingdom if that was what it took. I would keep moving, leaving my hometown and the Village of the Heartless in the dust. I vowed that I would not return until I found answers, whatever that ended up meaning; no matter what, I refused to return home empty handed.

In spite of myself, I pulled the portrait from my room out of my bag. I had not seen my parents’ faces since the day I left, but their fading memory came rushing back clear as day as I wiped the dust and decay from the old frame—my father’s stoic kindness, my mother’s impish but steadfast guidance.

When the oppressive feeling returned, I went to put the picture away, but hesitated as I saw the afternoon sun reflect off something clear and shiny at the bottom of my bag. In disbelief, I reached in and pulled it out—three little glass vials of familiar red liquid, tied together with a piece of fraying string. There was a note attached:

Ace,

I have no use for these anymore, but perhaps they may help you on your journey. I do not know if they work, though I suppose you may get desperate.

Please take care, Ace. It is not a kind world out there. Though I suppose you know that better than most.

Bertrand

“Foolish old man,” I muttered to myself bitterly, though I was unable to keep a fond smile from creeping onto my face. Of course Bertrand had sent me with love potions, and nothing of actual use. I figured he must have slipped them into my bag at some point before I left. It was typical of him; ever insistent on his efforts to break the curse, no matter how futile. Nevertheless, I slipped the parcel back into the satchel carefully, followed by the picture frame that had been laying discarded at my side.

With a newfound resolve, I pushed myself to my feet, wiped the dirt from my pants, and began stumbling weary and bleary-eyed eastward.

* * *

As I traveled further from home, the quiet pastoral villages blurred into bustling small towns that made me hyper-aware in a hollow sort of way of the few measly coins jingling in my pocket. The evenings sang not with the quiet chatter of families and children’s rhymes, but with raucous laughter and live music that spilled out of taverns and large, ornate homes. The roads were all paved with neatly cut bricks or stones that clacked pleasantly under the dusty worn-out soles of my boots. The streets were always well-lit and well-maintained, lined with diligently trimmed bushes of sickly-sweet smelling flowers set against yellowing foliage. The trees still held a little greenery, as though summer were taking its last breath before giving way to the fall.

The further east I traveled, the more I stuck out like a sore thumb, though people seemed more content to simply brush past me in the streets rather than pay me any mind. I’d heard stories of the eastern towns as a child, tales of opulent mansions six stories tall and streets paved with gold. There, where the rich nobles and all sorts of other important folk lived, the wells never ran dry and the cellars were always overflowing, even in the longest winters. This, of course, had been a fairytale, nothing more than an over-exaggerated pie-in-the-sky dream of a life of wealth and bounty that was always going to be out of reach.

Seated in the shadow of an alley beside a lively tavern, stomach rumbling at the smell of freshly fried meat emanating from the open doors, I reckoned that the myth and the reality may as well have been the same, for all it was worth.

The night was cool, a light autumn breeze pushing the fallen leaves across the dirt floor of the alley. The only light came from the full moon and a flickering oil lamp that hung in the window above my head, casting my quivering shadow against the opposite wall. The sound of drunken laughter and clacking cups reverberated off the bricks, echoing in the empty night air.

The window flew open and I pressed my back as far against the tavern wall as it would go, sucking in a breath and holding it. An arm swung out and tossed a dirty canvas sack out into the alley, and then the window snapped shut again. After a moment of still silence, I exhaled and leaned forward on the balls of my feet to get a closer look at the bag. I pulled back a corner of the fabric; the sack was full of food, what looked to be burnt scraps and almost-rotting produce, the leftovers that paying customers didn’t want. My stomach growled, so loudly I feared it would alert half the town. Desperate, I leaned in closer—it wasn’t stealing if the food was being thrown out, right?

“Hey, get back!”

A figure jumped out from the other side of the building, sending me stumbling backward onto my butt. I clambered to my feet and reached instinctively for my bow, the figure for a knife on their belt. We both froze, squinting in the dim light of the alley.

“Wait a minute,” the figure hissed. “It’s you!”

“Knife Boy?” I blurted.

“Arrow Guy?”

“What?”

“Nothing.” The hand at Knife Boy’s belt moved to rest on his hip, and my eyes were drawn to the glint of moonlight off the dagger’s blade. “Wow, what is with you Heartless and scamming other folks’ food?”

My grip on the bow at my back tightened. “Keep that word out of your mouth before you get me arrested, or this time I won’t hesitate.”

Knife Boy raised his hands in surrender, taking a step backward. “Right, listen, I’m not going to attack you. I’m better than that now, I promise.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What are you doing all the way out east?”

“I could ask the same of you. Pretty risky for you to be traveling this close to the castle, no?”

“I asked you first. Do you live out here?”

Knife Boy stifled a laugh. “Do I look like I live around here?” He gestured down to his clothes, which even in the poor lighting I could tell looked more or less the same as mine. “I’m just here to steal, and you were about to take my loot that I waited hours for.”

I finally released my grip and lowered my hand back to my side. “Wait a minute. If you’re a thief yourself, why did you chase after my friend for stealing food back west?”

“You and I both know that had very little to do with the food,” Knife Boy replied bluntly.

“I—Fair enough.”

The tavern kitchen window opened brusquely, startling me back onto the defensive, and a deep voice bellowed, “Hey! What are you rotten kids doing out there?”

Knife Boy made a hasty dive for the discarded food and shouted, “Let’s get out of here!”

“Why should I trust you?”

He tossed me a burnt roll from the bag and urged, “Let’s go!”

Juggling the offering in my unexpectant hands, I took off after him out of the alley, halfway across town, and into the moonlit woods that lay beyond. Eventually, we reached a small clearing with a clear, bubbling stream. The leaves had been pushed into a pile like a makeshift bed, and a circle of stones and charred wood comprised the remains of a campfire. It looked as though Knife Boy had been camping out here for at least a few nights, perhaps longer.

Panting, Knife Boy dropped down clumsily onto his leaf pile and began rifling through the sack of food, appearing to toss away anything he deemed entirely inedible. I sat down cross-legged a cautious several feet away from him, drawing my cloak tighter around myself and taking bites out of the bread he had thrown me in the alley. The resolve and courage I’d had back there had disappeared into the quiet night, settling into an unfortunately familiar sense of danger and otherness. Seeming satisfied with his inspection of his (our?) loot, Knife Boy passed me a bruised apple and set the bag aside before he began gathering kindling.

“Why are you helping me?” I found the strength to ask, hating the uncertainty in my voice.

Knife Boy did not look up from where he was trying to start a fire. “Do you want the honest answer?”

“I certainly don’t want you to lie.”

“Wonderful, you’re going to make me admit it.” As a spark finally took hold and ignited a small flame, Knife Boy wiped the dirt from his hands and sat back down on his bed of leaves. “To tell you the truth, the way you stood your ground for that girl made me realize maybe I was wrong about you bastards. I didn’t think you could act like that.”

“Like what?” I prodded.

“Like a person.” Knife Boy turned to me and the firelight shone bright against his face. I had never seen him this clearly; he couldn’t have been any older than 15, features still soft around the edges, but there was a glimmer of something in his eyes, something familiar and sad.

“Can I ask you something?” I found myself saying.

“That’s mostly all you’ve done since I ran into you, so I don’t see why not.”

I chose to ignore his pointed comment. “Where are your parents?”

Knife Boy’s expression shifted into something unreadable and he quickly looked away. “They’re dead,” he whispered tersely, picking up a twig and dragging it through the dirt in front of him. “I’ve been traveling mostly on my own for a few years now.”

“Can I ask how they died?”

“You can ask, but I won’t tell you.”

“Right, sorry.” I turned the apple over in my hands, still uneaten. “I don’t know what happened to my parents, but I think it’s safe to assume they’re dead as well, or otherwise rotting in a cell somewhere. Either way, I doubt I’ll ever see them again.”

Knife Boy hummed in acknowledgement. After a moment, he looked back up at me, the unease in his eyes glinting in the firelight. “You knew your parents?”

“Now you’re the one asking questions?”

“It’s only fair,” Knife Boy muttered brusquely. “But you don’t have to answer.”

I shrugged. “It’s fine. I did know my parents, I lived with them for ten years. I had a friend, too, also Heartless, but when he was discovered, he was attacked by the other kids in the neighborhood. My parents sent me away, and that was the last I saw of them or him. I recently returned to my old home, only to find that both my parents and his parents were detained by the royal guard soon after, and nothing was ever heard from them again.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

I shrugged again, even though Knife Boy was no longer looking.

��So that’s why you’re traveling. What are you hoping to find?”

“I’m not sure anymore,” I admitted. “Answers, I suppose.”

Knife Boy reached across the distance between us to snatch the apple out of my idle hands and took a king-sized bite out of it, and I saw no use in chastising him over it.

“What you want is revenge,” he countered with his mouth full.

“I’m sorry?”

“If you want to get to the bottom of this, then aren’t you headed for the top?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at the question, earning a puzzled look from Knife Boy. The idea of infiltrating the castle grounds had crossed my mind on several occasions since I left the empty house. There was a voice in the recesses of my mind that said this entire journey was futile, but until the rest of me could accept that possibility, admitting defeat would simply never be an option.

“I have considered that,” I responded. “But I don’t think I’d make it very far.”

Knife Boy nodded and set his gaze somewhere far off beyond the trees that surrounded us as he continued devouring the apple. He said nothing more, leaving only the stream’s gentle gurgling and the crickets’ chirping to fill the void our voices had left behind. As the minutes passed in relative silence, I assumed the conversation had died, as Knife Boy didn’t seem eager to say anything more.

Then he chucked the remains of the apple core far into the woods and offered, not at all helpfully, “On your own.”

“Sorry, what?” I prompted, unable to hide the bewilderment in my voice.

“You wouldn’t make it very far on your own,” Knife Boy clarified in a biting tone, as if saying it out loud were physically painful.

“Are you… saying you want to come with me?”

Knife Boy groaned petulantly. “Ugh, when you say it like that it makes it sound like I actually like you and don’t think you’re weird and gross!” He huffed, not meeting my eyes. “Look, let’s just say that I owe you, okay? For sparing my life, twice now actually. And for showing me that I was wrong about you.”

Admittedly, “weird and gross” was one of the less scathing remarks I’d had directed at me or my kind before, so I let the petty insult wash over me like the rushing water over the rocks in the stream.

“And what do you get out of helping me?” I prodded.

“Let’s make a deal. You stop asking me personal questions, and I’ll help you sneak into the castle to find answers or avenge your formative childhood tragedy, or whatever.” Knife Boy reached his fist out towards me. “How’s that sound?”

With a smile, I returned the gesture; however, Knife Boy pulled back before our fists could make contact.

“Deal.”

#the heartless #aro #aromantic #aro writing #aro writers #aspec #aspec writing #aspec writers #writing #writeblr #op

[strangesoulmates]

Also, is there some story of inspiration behind your specific works? For example, As Certain Dark Things Are to be Loved? You called it comfort food and it definitely is, but what inspired you to start it? Same goes for More Precious than Rubies, Pledged in Blood, Good Intentions, Matelotage, and basically every other story of yours. Their plots are so different, united only by most delicious characterization. Was there smth. big that gave you any of these ideas?

I know I've answered this at least a few times before for some of these fics, but since my tagging is garbage and I can't find any of them, I'd be happy to do it again, especially since it was awhile ago and I know that lots of new people probably don't know.

I guess I'll answer about them in the order I published them to try and make the timeline clearer?

More Precious than Rubies was...God, I don't even know how the hell I had the courage to post it, it was so far out of left field compared to most of what I was reading.  Anyway, I somehow wound up in the depths of Tomarry hell my last year of college right before finals, and since I was supposed to be, you know, writing papers and taking exams and shit, I couldn't actually channel any of that into writing, when my summer research internship started, I lost my fucking mind when it came to writing.  I have two different WiPs from that period that still haven't been published but stand at several thousand words (one is...jesus, nearly 100k and no where close to done).  There was a throwaway line in that fic

“You’re like a dragon,” Harry said with a fond, if exasperated sigh. “Hoarding treasure.”

Tom found himself quite pleased and flattered at the comparison. No one had ever put his need to collect trophies in such terms before. It didn’t hurt that it clearly showed that Harry thought of Tom as dangerous and powerful, for all that it was clear Harry felt himself safe with him.

Staring into emerald eyes, he barred his teeth in a vicious grin.

“A dragon. I quite like that. Yes. I am a dragon, and you, my beloved,” Tom said, wrapping his arms tightly around him and pressing a lingering, covetous kiss to his forehead, “you are my most prized jewel.”

Tom watched Harry’s expression in fascination, watching as surprised pleasure and irritation warred across his face.

And that idea stuck with me and ate my brain until More Precious than Rubies was Born.

Fun fact, Harry is also compaired to a magical creater in the fic languishing on my harddrive:

“He’s like a bloody niffler, sniffing gold out of places no one else would think to look,” Tom ground out, voice reluctantly impressed and immensely frustrated. “I don’t understand how he finds these people, let alone how they end up being so bloody useful.  And yet he does it, time after time.”

The rest under the cut, because theres A LOT

As Certain Dark Things Are to be Loved is actually because of a prompt meme I've never been able to find again that I read when my brain was in just the right place to latch on and have a complete breakdown over (in a fun, creative way).  I forget what the theme of the list was, but the prompt that caught my attention was something along the lines of "Character A and Character B were childhood friends.  Character A kissed B before moving away.  In college, they discover Character B living across the hall."  And then things just spiraled totally out of control.  

It started out as just imagining how I could twist things from Cannon to make them fit and what that would look like. It was also my first time writing a nonomagical AU so it involved a lot of thought.  I had also just graduated college and was at home while all my friends were in grad school (which I talked about here) and I really missed it.  All of that came together to write a whole lot of this very quickly, and I, after some hemming and hawing, decided to post it.  Visits to grad schools I had been admitted to only added fuel to the fire. 

Good intentions came, of all places, out of watching an episode of Lie To Me (a very interesting TV show that I enjoy revisiting from time to time).  In a particular episode, the main character deals with like, a suave, sophisticated character who ran a criminal empire and clearly some kind of sociopath and I was like “TOM!  THAT’S IT!  IT’S MODERN DAY TOM!!!” and then several episodes later (or earlier?) they were trying to get something out of a criminal who was in prison who ALSO reminded me strongly of Tom and I was like “Harry would absolutely be how they got him to talk, by putting him in that room” and  like you know, even little flashes of dialog because apparently James arrested Tom and the little bit of dialog was “He’s not obsessed with the son because he hates the father.  He hates the father because he’s obsessed with the son.” (none of this is in the fic or will be in the fic, but it was a big part of its genesis).

Then I asked myself follow-up questions, like “how does Tom even know Harry?” and the answer I came up with at first was them getting to know each other while Tom was in prison. So I thought, okay, well, pen pals maybe?  As like part of a college class (since I think think that’s the only place that there could be an assignment like that)?  Because at some point around here I fixated on the idea of like, them meeting for person the first time in prison and that being where their relationship really developed (originally this was called Cellmate AU in my docs)

And then I decided for some reason that Harry should be a little kid, just because I kind of loved the idea of the contrast between his childish innocence and Tom’s…Tomness.  And that’s the convoluted story of how Good intentions first came to be.

Pledged in Blood was my attempt at trying to write something small and self contained for a Tomarry Big Bang awhile ago.  The initial idea came out the idea of wanting a grown up criminal mastermind Tom to run into Harry who is a police officer and for that to lead to desperate makeouts because they were very close as kids and Tom thought Harry was dead.  And so then the thought was, "okay, what the hell situation could they have been in where that could have happened?"  Kidnapping was the answer I came up with.

I started out with it as a Muggle AU, but it just didn't feel right. But the idea of Tom and Harry being kidnapped together got stuck in my brain and thus Pledged in Blood was born. The idea that sparked it actually got partially used int the deepest secret nobody knows] because I liked it too much not to scavenge it for something else.

The Heart of a Star and Matelotage are both gifts for @acciotomriddle based on her prompts for some kind of gift exchange. I couldn't finish one in time because it got out of control (surprise surprise) and then THE SAME THING HAPPENED WITH THE OTHER ONE.   But I posted them both because I was attached at that point.

And I'm not going to talk about Janus because telling  you about what inspired it would spoil everything. When it's no longer a spoiler, maybe I'll make a post about it.

[scotiaeire]

We were all heathens once...

An article on ritual sacrifice and eating of dogs got me thinking. I do that sometimes. Think. Doesn’t always work out well but, meh. Old age allows for some meandering and blethering.

Besides. It’s my blog. I can say what I like, so...

Y’know, christianity is an incredibly young belief system. And for Europeans, it doesn’t actually belong to us. Since I’m not wasting time on a potted history of a belief system I was never raised in nor am particularly interested in, just know that. It doesn’t belong to, stem from, or align with, Europe. Even though they did manage to force a square  peg into a round hole...

There was a time the whole global population was pagan in one form or another and in the timespan of human history, that wasn’t so long ago, yet it *was* a very long time that we were just that..all pagans.

To identify myself if folks ask, I call myself “heathen”, a word that simply once meant “heath dweller”. Now it’s come to mean Scandinavian or Norse paganism. (unless you’re christian, in which case for you it means anyone not christian).

Other folks call themselves “pagan”. *shrug* Same diff. It means we’re attempting to live according to the belief systems of our ancestors, and having to (and in most cases struggling to) adapt their methods of ritual and lifestyle and mindsets for the world we live in today.

It shouldn’t be so hard tbh. Just “pretend” christianity never happened. Most of Europe would still be heathen. It would have evolved over time, with each passing generation and technological advancement, because of course nothing remains static, or it dies.

I’m not going to say I can tell you what the world would be like had the religions stemming from the Middle East not overrun the Western world. Sweden was the last European nation, if I remember rightly, to be forcibly converted to christianity, and still there are pockets of heathenism within the country that have never taken to the conquering faith.

In other nations, such as my own Scotland, a strange amalgamation of traditional Celtic paganism absorbed the church teachings and just got on with it. Thus, the goddess Bride became Saint Brigit, etc, and if you want a prime example of how all that works, take a read at the Carmina Gadelica and other literary collections of folklore up to and including the traditional songs of the Highlanders.

But I was never christian. I was born into a heathen family. It wasn’t a bed of roses. I had the bullying (which included a teacher spitting at me as she walked past) after my parents raged at the headmaster that in no manner was I to be included in morning prayer, lunch grace or assembly prayers.

At the time, it just embarrassed me and made of me an outcast. I hated it. As I grew and found my own heathen path, I was grateful. I see quite a few ex christians struggle with feelings of guilt for “leaving the faith behind” (hint: it was never *your* faith. It’s a foreign one, if you are European or Scots, English, Welsh or Irish) or who can’t quite shake the “sin” shit that was drummed into them.

I see others who, having no roots in heathenry or their native paganism, struggle to find out what they can learn from.

I’m not here to give advice but I’d advise going back to history books, removing the jaundiced eye of any christian authors from the facts if you can, and take it from there. Also, archaeology is your friend here. Folks and fairy tales. Sagas, Eddas, Old Irish Tales. Ancient songs that are traditional to your country. It’s a start. (So aye, I did give advice. Sorry. Ye can take it or leave it, no skin off my nose)

We can’t (sadly) live the lives of our ancestors because, frankly, the powers that be won’t let us. Whereas once, animals would be ritually sacrificed then feasted upon at certain times of year, now the animal cruelty folks’d be visiting your door and you’d be fined or arrested. (Another hint: you get round that by raising meat livestock. Vegetarian heathens, I have no advice for ye’s sorry. Heathenism is an animistic path that doesn’t preclude the consuming of sacred animals. And if you’re actively looking to your ancestors for inspiration, this *is* the type of thing they practiced)

We can’t go to war on our enemies, because governments got the Sole Right to do that, without us having an actual say in who our enemies really are.

Who, today, can *truly* erect a Nidthing Pole (curse pole) on the perimeter of your enemies property without being, again, arrested. Note also the interference of the State in just how pagan or heathen you can actually *be*....

So heathenry has to adapt and change to fit with how we are *allowed* to live these days. And therein lies the shame..the majority allow the minority to dictate how we can live, worship, and be spiritual.

So we do what we can. In quite a few countries, proclaiming yourself as heathen can be actually dangerous. So you keep on the down-low and keep your head down about it and practice quietly, or in secret.

Other places are more tolerant but I  have noticed that even though they are “on the outside”, the reality is that if you are openly heathen you will often encounter a backlash from christians or other faiths not pagan on more than one occasion.

And you’ll undoubtedly be painted as some kind of demon/devil/evil person. And it takes some kind of courage to stand against that, to tell people without it disintegrating into a pub brawl, that you’ve the fucking *right* to be who you are when it comes to your faith, and if that means following the faith of your ancestors, nobody has the right to prevent it.

Just, y’know, when you are following the faith of your ancestors, do them justice, eh? Make them proud of you. Let them see that you’re not defaming their ways.

Despite how my posts might appear, I’m a “live and let live” woman. You leave me be, and I’ll do the same for you.

My own personal mindset is that I don’t “do” eclecticism, simply because I feel it’s a bit of an insult if I’d been, say, performing rites to Thor then throwing in a bit of Dianic witchery (Italian) or the like. “Hello Thor, Big Fella. Meet Diana”. Nah. Not gonna work out there...

I’m no purist either though. If christianity hadn’t been forced on some of our ancestors, heathenry would have adapted, evolved and changed over time. But the *roots* of it would have remained. The pantheons would have been unlikely to have meshed with other pantheons, as did the Celtic and Roman deities in some parts of the British Isles. Chiefly, England.

The practices though, would have changed and so we shouldn’t feel downhearted when the State states (sorry) ye can’t go out and blood eagle your worst enemy or shove that Nidthing Pole up in your annoying neighbour’s back garden. If it’s hexery you’re into there are much more subtle ways, if you’re a woman. If you’re a heathen man, you might want to employ a woman to do the job for ye. Ergi, and all that...

Because times have changed we can sometimes feel adrift, not knowing quite how to *be* heathen in a modern world that increasingly shrinks our freedoms to even live.

But there are ways. The article I shared previously to this post spoke of sacrifice. In pre christian, pre nanny State days, sacrifices were serious matters and serious events. They *meant* something of note.

I have to be honest here, “sacrificing” a bowl of fruit or a bunch of flowers isn’t quite the same. Ye can say what you think about that but it’s not.

Because if you need to sacrifice anything to get a god’s attention, if you’re desperate (been there, done that) then what you give *has* to have meaning, *has* to be hard to give, and *has* to be worthy of that god. Or it means nothing.

No, I’m not advocating animal or human sacrifice. But if the thing you give has little meaning to you (and don’t tell me a bowl of fruit or bunch of flowers means the world to you...) then why should a god listen to you?

Anyway...heathenry was more than the rituals of sacrifice, hexing your enemies and going to war. In domestic life little daily rituals kept the household running smoothly. When the partner of a woman left on a journey, for example, she’d sew charms into his clothing for protection and safe return. The hearth of a home..the firepit or fireplace..has a wealth of rituals surrounding it, probably the most prolific of the domestic magics, perhaps apart from spinning and weaving. Charms to keep your children safe, spells to help older folks thrive, all were taken care of in fine heathen fashion.

So if nothing else, that, at least, we can return to.

#Heathen #heathenry #heathenism #meandering thoughts on paganism #ancestors #European paganism #Norse heathenism

[enchantingkittengaditor]

Born Into This | 02: The Middle Of Starting Over

POV Paddy

“What do you know about what happened a week after your school started? I believe that was the week of the 8th of September. I’m particularly interested in yours and Ms. Barnes ‘study date’ on the 9th and your families’ reactions to you letting her into your home.”

“PATRICK! WHY THE HELL DID YOU INVITE A BARNES INTO OUR HOUSE!” My father yelled at me in his English classroom while Finn watched from the doorway.

“Because we need somewhere to work on the project you gave us. And anyway what does her last name have to do with anything?” I asked him.

“You’re still so naive. Her family is the one that destroyed our home in London. And I thought you could work on it at school or in a public space or at hers, not our home.”

“Why?” Finn asked from the corner of the room.

“So we could have a foothold in her house.”

“I can’t believe this. You promised me and mum that I wasn’t going to be like the other three. I wasn’t going to be a part of all this. I wasn’t meant to join until I was old enough to choose. Everyone agreed at least one of us was meant to have a normal life. I was meant to be normal,” I yelled at my father as Finn locked the class’ door, making sure no one got in to hear this conversation.

“No one in this family is normal Patrick least of all you. You are going to play an important part in the future of this family. You’re going to be the one to put us back on top and not be the minions of some second rate psychopath.”

“Well, this is all well and good but your next class starts in a few minutes and people are wanting to come in,” Finn said from his spot by the door.

“Of course. We’ll discuss this at home Paddy.”

“Actually, we won’t TJ’s coming over so we can do our project. You know the one you assigned us,” I said as we walked out of the door toward our next class.

“A little cold don’t you think,” Finn said as we moved over to our lockers.

“Maybe but it worked didn’t it.”

“Maybe but I have a feeling your study date’s not going to go as you have planned.”

“Maybe not but nothing ever does in that house.”

“You ready?” I asked TJ as I walked up behind her.

“Yup. I just need to grab something from Millie then I’m all good to go,” She said as she quickly shut her locker when she noticed me.

“What are you hiding in your locker?” I asked her.

“I’m hiding books, art supplies and a very embarrassing letter from my twin brother before he… Nevermind,” she said waving to Millie and Sofia behind me.

“Um erro para você,” Sofia said to TJ handing her a bag.

“Now I’m ready to go,” She said smiling at me.

We walked out of the school in silence, getting into my brother’s car. I started talking to Sam while TJ read her book on the car ride to our house out of the city. By the time we pulled into the long driveway, Sam had built up enough courage to talk to TJ.

“I hear you have a twin brother,” He had said to her.

“I had a twin brother. Had being the keyword in that sentence. It was one of the reasons I made the move here with my aunts,” TJ responded with a sad smirk.

“Can I ask what happened to him? I may not know what it’s like without my twin and I can’t imagine what it must be like but sometimes I wish I did,” He told her, looking her in the eye through the rearview mirror.

“He isn’t with us anymore. I’m not convinced he’s truly dead. It feels as though there should be a bigger gap in my heart if he truly was. But it just feels like it did when we were kids and we would go to different schools every day, except we’re further away from each other this time,” She said with a wistful look on her face as if she was trying to figure some big game of chess out, “Sometimes I wish that I could know if he was dead or not, just so I could either find him or his ghost and kill him with my own hands.”

“Well, feel free to do that to Harry anytime you want. I’ll help you make it look like an accident. I have the same emotions toward him as you do your twin.”

“I might take you up on that offer, Sam. But for now, Luisa May Alcott and her Little Women are calling my name and I need a good grade on this if I don’t want to be murdered by my aunt Hayley,” She said smiling at him as we got out of the car.

“Have fun you two and remember, Paddy, keep a door open!” Sam yelled at us as we walked into the house, while he waited for Harry so they could do something I don’t even want to think about.

“Sorry about him and my entire family and friends that live in this house,” I told her as we walked up the stairs to the front door.

“It’s OK. I’m sure my family is 1000% weirder than yours.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Ok. My brothers once decided it would be a good idea to throw toilet paper at my head for an Instagram video,” I told her starting with one of the less weird stories I have from my family.

“My aunts have a metal reinforced bomb shelter that could survive any bomb I’m aware of, in our apartment that they have told me on numerous occasions it’s not used for sex stuff.”

“OK, I’m thinking through all of my stories and none of them match that.”

POV Hayley

“What do you know about what happened the week of the 8th of September?”

“The only thing that I can’t remember that would be at all relevant.”

“Has it disappeared from your memory?”

“It appears it has slipped my mind.”

“So you have a date,” I teased TJ at dinner.

“It’s not a date, it’s a study session for an English project I could do by myself blindfolded in your warehouse. It’s on Little Women, all I really would have to do is ask Emma or Flo and I could get all the answers I would ever need. Or I could just do it myself but it’s a group project,” TJ told me stabbing my salad on my plate.

“It sounds like you have a date,” Lizzie told her.

“And you stole my salad.”

“It’s not a date,” She laughed/defended herself. “And I did.”

“If you say so,” I told her changing the topic, “So how would you feel about helping me on Sebastian’s case? You can annoy the hell out of him till he takes the plea bargain. Or you could trick him into a confession.”

“Aren’t you meant to be proving his innocence?” Lizz asked me.

“Yes, but no jury is going to let him get away with it in today’s society.”

“He was arrested for public intoxication, that’s a slap on the wrist especially with his family,” TJ told me what I already knew.

“He was arrested for public intoxication, attempting to purchase sex, and pimping out college girls. He can get away with public intoxication, maybe depending on his labwork but with his track record and all of this shit he’ll see some prison time. I hope. I feel so sorry for those poor girls he was pimping out,” I told her eating my own dinner.

“How is it that I’m the one who sees this as an uncomfortable dinner time talk? I’m the one that partakes in murder and torture for a living,” Lizzie spoke up refilling her wine glass.

“Maybe because you partake in mob activity and pimps tend to be mob members in this city?” TJ spoke.

“We don’t do that. Like we no longer deal drugs we help them out instead, providing employment and educational opportunities for those who would have no other option but to turn to people like Sebastian and Chris. We don’t play in that game. We try and empower women,” Lizzie said voice rising in anger.

“I’m sorry Liz, I just don’t know that much about all this,” TJ told her.

“So, should we play a game?” I asked trying to ease the tension.

“Sure,” They said in unison.

“How about two rounds of Never Have I Ever?” I asked.

“I’ll win so sure,” TJ said with a smirk.

“If you have you have to take a shot of hot sauce or vodka. I’ll start,” Lizzie said, “Never Have I Ever, worked for the law.”

“Screw you, Elizabeth!” I said as TJ tried to find the hot sauce on the table as I got the shot glasses and took a shot of vodka.

“I had one internship,” TJ said taking her hot sauce shot with pride, “My go, never have I ever shot a man.”

“Not myself, well not with a gun,” Lizzie said as we turned to look at her before she asked, “Do crossbows count?”

“Yes and I want to hear that story,” TJ told her as we both downed Vodka shots.

“Never have I ever had a crush on another member of a mob,” I say handing TJ the hot sauce.

“I haven’t Hayley, I haven’t had a yet crush,” She told me.

We finished our game and turned in for the night all of us doing our own individual tasks. That was until Lizzie came and saw me about TJ.

“I’m worried about her, it’s nearly the one-year anniversary of Robin’s death. I think we should do something about it. Either take her somewhere in memory of him or try to distract her from it,” Lizzie said standing in my doorway.

“Remember at the funeral she said she cherished the memory of going to McDonald’s in time square with him when they were 8 and first came to New York, maybe we could go there with some of her friends,” I told her looking at her through my mirror.

“Who should we invite?” Lizzie asked, “I mean obviously Sofia and Millie, maybe Mia, Emily and Lily?”

“What about her new friend from school? The one she has a school project with?” I suggested.

“Maybe, I’ll have Mr. T look into him, just to make sure there’s nothing too bad hiding in his closet. You can never be too sure with these things,” Liz said, “Maybe you should rethink your stance on Stan.”

“Maybe, you should reconsider Chris’s offer,” I told her.

“OK, so can we agree no more boy talk, lyubit',” Lizzie said to me moving toward me and away from the door.

“What do you want to talk about?” I asked her.

“I’d prefer to not talk and maybe do something else instead,” She smirked.

“Can you two please shut your door! I DON’T WANT TO HEAR ANY OF THIS!” TJ shouted from her room.

“OK!” I shouted getting up to shut the door.

“Can I ask what happened next Ms. Atwell? Or has it disappeared from your memory as well?”

“What happened next is strictly between me and Ms. Olsen, God rest her soul and may it not burn in hell with those monsters that did this to her. But I’m sure you can assume what happened next.”

“I’d like to hear the words come from your mouth.”

“You sound like her, but instead of words she preferred to hear something else from me.”

“That’ll be all for know please Ms. Atwell,” The judge told me.

“But he wanted to know what happened next your honour and that requires a bit of foul language that may make you a bit uncomfortable.”

POV Chris

“What do you know about what happened the week of the 8th of September?”

“Not much admittedly, I was on a bit of a bender. You see I was just dumped by my betrothed thingy that Robert set up years ago to keep the peace when the Holland’s moved to New York. Meant to be a part of a peace treaty me and some other unfortunate soul were meant to marry into the Barnes’ as a show of peace.”

“Did this end with the events that unfolded?”

“No, it didn’t. Enough members survived for a need for the treaty.”

“Except they replaced me with Sebastian.”

“Just tell us your story.”

“Hit me again,” Sebastian told me as we played cards.

“We’re playing go fish Seb,” I told him.

“I know, I meant another beer,” He said.

“Sorry.”

“You seem distracted. What did Robert say?”

“The reason I’m Elizabeth’s liaison is I’m meant to marry her and one of the brothers is meant to marry Jean’s granddaughter. And from the age range, I was given of her it sounds likely that Paddy will be drawn into this life after all. And I’m meant to tell Nikki but she terrifies me.”

“She is a scary woman when it comes to protecting her children, especially Paddy.”

“She thought she could save his soul but very clearly she was wrong. I knew Dominic and Robert were up to no good in all of their meetings.”

“It gets worse. Robert killed the girl’s twin brother with his own hands. She was told he died of cancer which he did have but it didn’t kill him.”

“Robert killed a child with cancer because he thought he was a threat, that’s just cold even for him.”

“What was cold of me?” Robert asked coming into the kitchen taking one of the beers from the fridge to hand to Sebastian and another one for himself.

“We were talking about your plans for me and the Barnes girl.”

“She’s coming over tomorrow, it’s a bit of a study date. Hopefully, they don’t kill each other that would put a damper on my plans,” Robert said to us sitting on one of the stools at the bar.

“Why do your plans involve the love lives of two teenagers, isn’t that a bit weird even for you?” Sebastian asked him.

“Maybe but not here I get to say what’s weird and what’s not. Maybe you’d know the feeling if you stayed in Romania a little longer than you did.”

“OK, that’s enough Robert. It’s too much even for you.”

“You seem to have forgotten your place here Evans. As soon as you are in charge you can change how things are but until then I make the rules and Dominic made that deal to save what was left of his family and their business,” Robert spat at me.

Right, the destruction of the Holland Mafia, the event that lead to Robert becoming one of the most powerful men in the world. The events that took place in 2004. London was in term oil there were fights on the streets between the Holland and the Barnes Families until August when Dominic was losing he decided that instead of lose the little bit of power and control he had left he was going to strike a deal with the Barnes Mafia in an attempt to save his own life and the life of his boys. Though through my conversations with Elizabeth I doubt that anything would have happened to the boys other than they’d have been taken into the family fold and been brought up outside of the mob. He used that power to make a deal his yet to be born child would eventually marry the youngest Barnes. He didn’t tell his wife or his boys. He then used this deal to bargain for his escape to New York where the last few of his men joined with Robert’s giving him more power in exchange for protection.

“Fine but that doesn’t make it OK for this to be happening. Any of this,” I said.

“Maybe but what we do isn’t moral it’s a business based of people doing immoral things and if you can’t handle that I can and will arrange for your early retirement.”

“No thank you, Robert,” I said through gritted teeth while he left the room.

“We should tell the kid. Or Nikki maybe that could be a way around this whole thing,” Seb said once we checked that Robert was out of earshot.

“I’m pretty sure that we should tell the kids and Nikki at the same time, you never know maybe the girl will have the guts to kill Robert or at least hurt him,” I told him.

“If only she would. It would make life much easier for us,” He said looking around, “Now tell me about this Elizabeth character does she seem nice or like she’ll shoot you next time you enter her office?”

“Both if that’s possible. She seems like if I say one wrong thing or make one wrong move I’m going to end up in the Hudson. But I saw her with her I want to say niece the other day in central park and she seemed so calm and sweet.”

“She has a niece?”

“I looked into it and not really the kid refers to Elizabeth as aunt and lives with her but she’s Jean’s granddaughter.”

“So not her sisters’ kid?”

“No, they seem to have disappeared off the grid. They haven’t been spotted in 5 years apparently.”

“How have they managed that in today’s tech-driven world? And how did you get all this beer? Robert doesn’t own the beer trade in New York.”

“I honestly have no clue. And Elizabeth gave it to me as a peace offering for the first day on the job as her liaison, apparently, they’re the ones that managed to get almost all of the alcohol trade in NYC. Tip-off before t-total America.”

 POV TJ

“What do you know about what happened the week of the 8th of September?”

“That was an interesting week for sure, we got contacted by two ghosts, I had a study session with Paddy and I nearly shot Tom Holland.”

“You shot a gun?”

“Oh god no I despise the things, I nearly shot him with a bow that I had in my possession for PE class. It wasn’t nearly as bad as it sounds. Yes, I actually hit him but it was his hair that got hurt and his ego but that could take a beating and still be too large.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. That thing was way too big just because Robert thought he should be his next in line.”

“So have you actually read Little Women?” I asked Paddy as I sat on his bedroom floor.

“First, you know you can sit on a chair. Secondly, I am almost done with it,” He said pointing to the chair opposite to him.

“Yes I know I can but I don’t want to. So I’m going to sit here on the floor and start working on the project while you finish reading it,” I told him opening my computer to start working through the list of tasks Paddy’s father had set out for us.

“Cool.”

After about an hour of working in silence, there was a knock on the door, followed by a woman pocking her head through the door.

“Hey, Pads do you and your friend want a snack?” The ginger-haired woman asked.

“Yes?” He said more as a question to me.

“Sure,” I said to her smiling.

“Thanks, Mum,” Paddy said as I turned back to my computer before I heard his voice go from that of a normal teenage boy to one that grew up in a family of mobsters, “What the hell do you want Chris?”

“I wanted to tell you two and your mother something I found out from your father and Robert. Well, actually from Elizabeth but it has to do with Dominic and Robert,” Chris said as I turned towards him.

“Why didn’t aunt Lizzie tell me if she wanted me to know, Christopher?” I spoke.

“Aunt Lizzie?” Paddy asked.

“Probably for your own protection but I don’t care about that. As long as you don’t die I can get away with anything to do with you,” Chris told me looking directly into my eyes.

“You underestimate my aunt, she’ll kill you if you get to close. She’s a sweetheart though,” I told him.

“Hey – Chris,” Paddy’s mum said voice changing instantly.

“Nicola. I have some news for all three of you.”

“Where does you shooting Tom come into this?”

“I’m about to get there.”

“Go ahead.”

After hearing the new Chris had to say Nicola went after her husband and I went in search of Robert Downey Jr. to kill followed by a puppy-like Paddy. I happened to have a bow and some arrows with me from PE which I took with me on this search. I did come across Robert with some of his close associates, mainly Paddy’s oldest brother, Tom.

“What the fucking hell Robert! When you said our families made peace all those years ago I didn’t think it meant with a freaking arranged marriage! That is the cruellest thing you have ever done and I am counting murdering my twin brother because you saw him and me as threats to your family! Well, Downey I’m here to tell you, you’ve just started a war you can’t win because even if you survive, all this won’t, neither will your legacy. Because the truth will come out whether or not you admit it is the truth. See you in hell asshole,” I stated drawing back the string on the bow and aimed at the table and Tom’s hair, meeting my targets before swirling around and walking toward Hayley’s car in the driveway leaving Paddy standing there staring at his brothers.

I overheard him say, “I should go back and finish my homework.”

“I got your bags from Chris. You need to get out of that English class and maybe that school,” Hayley said as I sat in her car and she took off.

“Or you need Jesus, maybe come to church once in a while kid,” Lizzie said through the phone.

“Or maybe I need someone to tell me the fucking truth from all of you,” I said grabbing my headphones and putting my on and staring out the window. Mr. T is the facts person in the mob if you need to find out anything you go to him and he’ll have the answer 24 hours later. He was the one that lead the charge against the Holland’s all those years ago.

When we arrived back home I stormed into the building getting into the elevator, “I’m going to see Mr. T he’s got more answers than either of you. Including one that I asked him to dig up yesterday.”

“Be home soon. It’s no longer safe for you in this city. You’re coming to church on Sunday. It proves your not actually going to hurt Robert at least not yet,” Hayley said.

“OK Hales,” I told her getting out of the Lift on the floor below Hayley.

“Hey, I heard you were coming over. And I got your answers,” Mr. T said as I knocked on the door.

“And apparently a tiger,” I said as I stepped into the apartment.

“Looking after it for a friend. But in answer to your first question. It’s true you’re suspicions were correct. Sadly for your brother and your mother,” He said.

“Sadder for his wife and my genetics. Now, what can you tell me about how to take down the Downey Mafia. I need to destroy them,” I said with what I hoped was the stone-cold look of a killer.

“Happily,” He responded, handing me a drink from his fridge.

 POV Sebastian

“What do you know about what happened the week of the 8th of September?”

“Nothing that I’d tell you.”

“Please enlighten us, Mr. Stan, it’ll make this a lot easier for you down the road.”

“Maybe but it’s between me and the people involved not you and the internet. So I’d rather stay silent on the matter.”

“So she tried to shoot you?” I asked Tom.

“No, I think she just missed Robert.”

“Trust me if she wanted to hit you she would’ve. I’ve seen her trophies in Elizabeth’s office. She was just trying to scare you all,” Chris spoke up.

“Well, I hope next time she doesn’t aim to kill because I’d rather go out with a bullet than an arrow,” Tom said grabbing a beer.

“Well, then don’t piss off TJ or her family they tend to do things the old fashioned way,” Chris smiled into his beer.

“That’s interesting. How exactly did you know that?” I asked him.

“I have my ways, Stan. Now Holland what are you going to do about your brother?” Chris asked.

“That comes down to my parents. And I’m on standby in case mum needs a body disposed of.”

“Well, good luck with all that. We have bigger issues,” I said looking at the fridge.

“What? Out of beer?” Tom asked.

“Not quite but the only way we can get more is to ask Elizabeth or go through her and help aid her.”

“Well, before we inevitably go to war with the Barnes family, who are objectively older, wiser and more powerful, let’s get shitfaced and ruin our aim tomorrow!” I said.

“Cheers! Here’s to getting shitfaced by illegal means!” Tom said.

“Dude. Just speak normally.”

“Can I ask if you figured out how they figured out the outlawing of alcohol?”

“Probably, Hayley Atwell, she’s a lawyer at one police plaza and worked in Washington for a bit,” Paddy said grabbing Tom’s beer.

“Rough night?”

“Really your asking that after everything that’s happened today?”

“Fair enough, kid. Why don’t you join us?”

“You let a minor get drunk?”

“After everything you’ve heard today about these events that’s your question? If I let a minor get drunk? Of course, I let a minor get drunk! He just found out he’s betrothed to someone he has a school project with and he just met! Who may or may not be related to the people that killed his family members. And you ask if I let him have a beer?”

“Yes, Mr. Stan that is what I’m asking.”

“Well then. The answer is yes and I’m aware it’s illegal in two forms but I did it anyway.”

#mob!au #mob au #mob!reader #mob!tom #mcu #marvel #fanfic #fan fic #My writing #writing #mob!mcu #mcu cast #sebastian stan #chris evans #hayley atwell #paddy holland #kelli berglund #elizabeth olsen #robert downey jr #rdj #tom holland

[k-renne]

HELPLESSNESS BLUES - CRACK UP

Your mother always told you to stay away from wolves, wolves like the Logan family who always seemed to be up to no good. It was only natural as a local farmer, you had to protect your livestock. Farmers just weren’t in the company of befriending werewolves.

A/N: This chapter has some heavy angst and then smut, with some abo nonsense

“What do you think they’re up to by now?”Jimmy said to Mellie. 

“Oh, I don’t think that’s something I want to imagine. Those two are probably gonna be at it all night.” 

Jimmy laughed, “Yeah, I did not miss the way he was looking at her. Did I tell you how many boxes of tissues we’ve gone through in the past month?” He shook his head. 

Mellie cringed, “That I definitely don’t wanna know.” 

“He seems so much happier, I’m real happy he found someone.” Jimmy grins. 

“Me too, but farmgirl’s family does worry me.”

He let out a heavy sigh, “Yeah, they could be a problem.” 

Back at the farm you had locked yourself up in your room, you refused to talk to your father and your mother who had driven up as soon as she heard the news. You were much more focused with the window, the dark trees under the moon. The farm didn’t seem to matter to you tonight, you just wanted Clyde to be safe. And that meant he had to stay away, at all costs. 

You knew he would come for you, but so did your father. He made you a cruel promise, Clyde could stand outside your window for as long as he liked but the moment you made any attempt to go to him he’d meet a bullet. 

“Mother you can’t let him do this,” You tried to appeal to her reason. 

“I will not let my daughter go off with a monster, honey you were supposed to find and marry a nice boy. A human. This is all for your own good, you’ll see that someday.” She kept her tone even as she explained it to you. 

No, I won’t. You thought to yourself. 

No matter what, Clyde would be hurt. You could risk it all but pay the ultimate price. You just couldn’t see it working out, the least you could do is keep him safe. You owed him that much. 

Tonight you felt like a little girl again, trapped and powerless. Your independence stripped from you. That feeling crushed you as you waited for Clyde, sitting by the window and wiping tears from your face. 

It was midnight when you heard rustling in the trees, Clyde walking out from the treeline in just a pair of pants. Faintly you could see two other werewolves in the background, their eyes glowing like fireflies in the dark. You hated that they’d have to witness this. 

He had that same longing look in his eyes when he walked up to your window, they were warm and wide with hope, happy to see that you seemed mostly okay. You started to cry again, he came much closer. You clasped your hand over your mouth to muffle your sob, shaking your head. 

When you opened the window Clyde smiled up at you, “Sweetheart please, s’gonna be okay. We’re gonna get ya outta here,” He nodded. 

You didn’t understand how he could get close like this, leave himself so exposed to danger at a moments notice. And still he was comforting you. Couldn’t he see? “No,” You gasped. “Don’t get any closer.” It felt so painful just to say those words, unable to suppress your whimpers as you spoke.

He stopped in his tracks, a deep frown on his face. He looked back to the forest briefly, before turning back to you. His voice was thick with emotion, “But I have to farmgirl, ya can’t stay here. S’not safe.” He shook his head. “And I’d never get to see ya...I can’t do that sweetheart. I need ya to be safe. I need to know that you’re safe.” 

You smiled, but your eyes were full of tears. “And it won’t be safe if I leave Clyde, I can’t be with you.” Your voice was shaky and emotional as you spoke. 

Clyde took a step back, as if he was wounded. He felt his heart break at your words. It only lasted for a moment before he turned angry, it wasn’t right for you to be saying such things. You didn’t know what safe meant. He growled low, “You don’t have to be with me sweetheart but I will not be lettin’ ya stay here. Not with a family that don’t even love ya the way they should.” 

You hiccuped as more tears fell, your vision blurry. But you had made your choice already. “No, I won’t go Clyde.” You couldn’t. 

Clyde pressed his lips in a thin line, his nostrils flaring. “I didn’t come here to argue about this, ain’t no time for that.”

He was walking closer, no! “Please Clyde, don’t-you can’t come any closer,” You pleaded. 

He wouldn’t listen. He wasn’t listening, a determined expression on his face as he began to climb up to your window. You shut your eyes for just a moment, trying to think. As a last resort you closed your window, latched it shut. Maybe, now he’d listen. 

His eyes were so sad when he was met with glass, your back turned to him. He rested his forehead against the cool glass, hot breath fogging up the window. “Please,” He begged you. 

The cock of a shotgun turned his attention away from you, there below him your father and a few men stood with guns. “Boy you best get off of my property and away from my daughter before I shoot, can’t ya see she doesn’t want ya?” He tilted his head, aiming his gun. 

Clyde’s breath caught in his throat, he felt sick to his stomach. He stumbled off to the treeline drunkenly, defeated. He was met with the open arms of his siblings, their commiserating howls filling the night air. 

After that night Clyde had tried to call you, reach you in anyway but you couldn’t bare to speak to him. He tried visiting the farm too, but each time it was heavily guarded and new trespassing signs on the property kept him away. One day he gave up trying to call you, he hated talking on the phone anyways. Never had the courage to leave a message, he just wanted to hear your voice. 

Eventually it was time for you to move on, not just from a failed attempt at farming, but from what felt like a horrible break up. You had some money saved up, so it was time for you to leave Boone County behind and leave behind the pain of your past. Maybe one day you’d have a farm again, but next time you wanted to do it completely on your own, somehow. 

There was nothing left for you in Boone county. 

It took Clyde a lot longer to pick himself back on his feet, because that feeling never really goes away. Not with you. He started learning how to bartend and it was going okay, at least work was a good distraction. He never really imagined himself owning a bar. At one point he even got himself landed in prison, but that all was part of the plan. 

Years later you’re back in Boone county for a friends wedding, it hurts to be here. So much that you feel like you need to get a drink just after the first day being back. Regrets weighed heavy on your heart. 

Duck Tape, what a strange name for a bar, yet so fitting for Boone County. Some things never seem to change.

“Farmgirl,” Clyde’s eyes widened. He knew he smelled something familiar, something sweet. But he thought his mind was just playing tricks on him. 

“Clyde-” Of course you’d run into him here, the one person who could reel you right back in to the place you were so desperately trying to leave. 

“Are you alright sweetheart?” He asked you, his voice soft. Seeing you now made him forget all his heart ache, because his only concern was you and he could tell you were hurting.

You felt your eyes water, you sniffled as you tried to fight back tears. “I’ll be okay,” You quickly rubbed away a tear. Laughing as you tried to smile. 

He felt intense frustration seeing your pain, knowing that your parents probably caused it. How long had you been suffering like this? It made him angry, he didn’t even feel it as his fist slammed down on the bar counter, jaw clenching. The other patrons stared at him but he didn’t care. 

“We need to talk,” He gritted out. You knew you couldn’t avoid conversation this time. So you nodded. 

“Okay Clyde.” His first question was where you had been, all this time. 

“I never even knew that you left, all this time.” Clyde let out a heavy sigh. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I tried to talk to ya, I knew you were upset but I just needed to know that you were okay. Almost got myself arrested one time, surprised they didn’t get a restraining order on me.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t make that any easier. But it was so hard, I-you were in danger Clyde. I did what I did to keep you safe.” You justified. 

“Keep me safe?” He raised his voice, his eyes going wide. He huffed in frustration, he knew that your fears weren’t unfounded but still he wished that you trusted him more than that. To protect you. The alpha in him ached. “That was supposed to be my job sweetheart, I-we would’ve been fine. You just had to trust me.” 

You frowned, you could see now how much your actions hurt him. You didn’t think he deserved to go through this again, you pulled away. “I should go Clyde.” 

Clyde’s hand shot out to grab your wrist, growling at you. “Stay.” He demanded in a harsh tone. When you stopped pulling away his features softened, “Please farmgirl, stay tonight.” His brown eyes were pleading, burning with a familiar longing. 

“Stay where?” You asked. You were planning on staying at a motel, but you didn’t know what he meant exactly. 

“With me,” He said, blushing. He didn’t mean for it to come out forward. “Ah, ya don’t have to…” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking away shyly. “I just miss ya that’s all.” 

You smiled at Clyde, for him you felt like you’d do anything if he asked. “Okay.” You nodded. 

Something about walking into Clyde’s humble little trailer felt like home, it felt warm. You felt your heart race just thinking about how he actually lived here. 

“Sorry if it’s a little messy, don’t usually have company,” Clyde cringed, seeing the empty beer bottles and pizza container, a pair of socks on the floor. But if anything it was a relief to you, it was surprising to you that he wasn’t married by now because he always seemed like the type. Even after all this time, a deep part of you still wanted to be with him. 

“That’s alright,” You reassured him. 

Clyde gave you a strange look. He was panicking, he had you in his home and it was his idea to ask you to stay but now he had no idea what to do with you. And he didn’t even have a place for guests to sleep, he was fucked. At least he could try to pretend like he knew what he was doing, he turned on the lamp next to the couch. “Would ya like somethin’ to drink farmgirl?” 

“Clyde, I haven’t worked on a farm in years.” You said in a strained voice. You had to tell him; the truth weighed heavy on you.

“Sorry, it’s an old habit I guess.” He rubbed the back of his neck. You only noticed now that his left arm was different, made out of metal with fingers that looked like they could actually move. You briefly wondered how he got it, you were happy for him though. It’s what he deserved. 

“It’s okay, you can still call me whatever you like,” You softly smiled at him. He was blushing, again. Thankful too because he didn’t know if he’d be able to stop calling you that. 

You sat on the couch next to Clyde, each of you with a beer in hand. There was distance between you that you were hesitant to close. You longed for the closeness that you used to have with him, to kiss him again. 

“So um, what have you all been up to lately?” You asked him. 

Clyde thought about it for a moment, he didn’t feel like anything all too important had happened in the time you were gone. Sure, there was the recent heist he helped Jimmy pull off, but he’d rather not get into that one. “Jimmy got divorced,” He said bitterly. 

“Oh, that’s too bad.” 

“Yeah but he’s with this other girl now, Sylvia. Must make him happy cause I don’t see him much without her, and he’s got his daughter too in Lynchburg.” 

“What about Mellie?” You missed her too, you felt like you had missed so much. And you liked listening to his voice. 

“Mel’s with this guy Joe Bang, and I don’t know about him. But she seems happy, I guess.” Clyde looked off in the distance as he talked. 

You frowned, “But are you happy?” 

Clyde felt a breath catch in his chest, he should be happy. He had more cash than he knew what to do with, the bar was successful, his family was doing well and he had this fancy new arm. He let out the breath he was holding, “I’m doing just fine sweetheart.” 

You laughed, “Now you sound like me.” 

“But you lost everything, your farm, your family-” 

“And you,” You added, interrupting him. You were smiling but your eyes were sad. 

Clyde pressed his lips together in a line. He didn’t know what to say to that, so he took a long sip of his beer as he tilted his head back. He felt your soft hand on his arm, the heat of your body as you moved to sit flush against him. It was too much, after all this time. The longing he had for you came right back in droves, while for years he had tried to push those feelings away his mind was screaming at him. Mate.  

Your hand was on his chest now and he felt his cock twitch to life, “Sweetheart-” You had to stop touching him like this, he could feel himself spiralling into need. “-Please don’t.” He begged you. 

“I’m sorry,” You rested your forehead against his shoulder. “I missed you too.” 

Clyde hissed, feeling his cock painfully harden, “Ah it hurts.” He groaned. 

“What? Are you alright?” You asked, concerned. 

Oh his face had to be so read, it was too embarrassing to say. “Uh, s’been a long time for me. And my kind-we get sensitive,” Clyde grunted as you squeezed his chest. You were trying to comfort him, but your touch was doing something else entirely. 

“I don’t understand.” You said, shaking your head. 

“Werewolves need touch, in certain places. I...it’s been so long since anyone’s touched me.” His voice was throaty as he explained. He didn’t know why he was telling you this, letting his dirty shame spill right from his lips. He wasn’t meant to be alone the way he had been, but he didn’t really want to be with anyone else but you. It just felt wrong to even try. 

That was when you looked down, noticing the large bulge of Clyde’s cock straining in his shorts. Oh gosh, the realization hit you with arousal. Seeing that made you feel tingly, his flushed cheeks and needy expression. 

“I can touch you.” You resumed your ministrations, lazily tracing the buttons on his shirt. 

“Farmgirl, please don’t feel bad. I don’t need anyone’s pity, especially not from you sweetheart.” He shook his head. 

“But Clyde, I want to touch you.” You admitted. 

“Hmm?” Your words didn’t quite register with him. But your hand continued to drift lower until you were palming his bulge in your hand. 

“Ah sweetheart-” Clyde panted. “At least lemme kiss you.” 

His hand tilted your chin up for easy access as he planted a soft kiss across your lips. The first kiss was soft, but as you kissed him back with years of pent up passion his own mouth grew hungry as it seeked yours. The taste of beer still on his tongue as you moaned into his mouth, just kissing him made you feel on fire. You remembered what you were doing as you continued to rub and tease him through his pants. 

You felt the vibrations of his chest as he growled lowly, arm pulling you closer to him. “Feels so good farmgirl,” He huffed. And he wasn’t just talking about your hand over his cock, holding you this close felt good too. You smelled so sweet, and his own scent was getting all over you. He needed more, Clyde nosed down your cheek to breathe in your scent against your neck, kissing and sucking the skin into his hot mouth. You let out a sweet little moan and Clyde pressed his lips harder against your skin. This felt like happiness. 

You huffed in frustration as you tried to undo Clyde’s pants and free his cock, the button pulled taut by the size of his bulge. “Ah lemme do it,” He moved your hand out of the way, freeing his cock with ease. He sighed at the relief, tension dropping in his shoulders. 

He looked even bigger now, his cock heavy as you gently gripped him in your hand. “Fuck,” Clyde cursed at your touch, his cock drooling onto your hand. 

“Oh,” That was unexpected. You felt the velvety skin of his cock become slick, what a strong reaction to your touch. It was new, but it only served to turn you on. 

“Mmm-sorry, s’a werewolf thing. Makes it easier, s’like a natural lubricant.” Clyde groaned as he apologized, the warmth from your soft hand was doing things to him. It wasn’t normally this bad on his own, maybe because it had been so long. He could only imagine how bad it was gonna be the time his next rut came, ohhhh. His mind went blank as you began to stroke him. 

Clyde’s lips desperately found yours, his hand moving over yours as his kiss made you weak. “Don’t stop, tighter now, faster,” He rasped, showing you with the help of his own hand. 

The sound of his slick cock in your hand along with his lips meeting yours was so arousing you could hardly focus on the task at hand, you wanted to just melt into him and let him take over completely. But he needed this, and you would finish what you started. 

“Not gonna be long now sweetheart,” Clyde warned you. With how deprived he’d been of touch, there’s no way he’d last. He could feel that he was close already, just the thought of cumming all over your hand. One last squeeze of his cock had him spilling hot cum all over your fist, Clyde moaning your name as he threw his head back. You continued to jerk him as his cock throbbed, more cum spurting from the reddened tip. 

He needed to kiss you again, his mouth messily pressing against yours as his hand fisted your hair. His cheeks were red as he pulled back to look at you, lips slightly parted as he panted. He was so grateful, but he knew that a handjob wouldn’t be enough for him, maybe just for tonight. He had cum so much that your hand was coated in him, his mind thought of a few dirty things to do with all that cum but for now he cleaned up his mess.

Clyde looked up at you as kneeled in front of you on the couch, his hand on your thigh. He bent closer to nuzzle between your thighs before your gentle push stopped him. “I need to take care of ya sweetheart, I can smell how wet you are.” He shook his head. To leave you unfinished like this when you just gave him the sweetest relief wasn’t right. 

You just smiled down at him, “Not tonight, it’s pretty late and I’m tired. I know you probably are too Clyde.” 

He nodded okay, he wouldn’t push it if you didn’t want to. He led you to his bedroom, gently taking your hand. “I can let ya borrow some of my clothes to sleep in. I got some old t-shirts.” He said as he began to unbutton his shirt after stepping out of his pants.

“Sounds good to me.” You began to strip and Clyde just gave you this look, his eyes so dark it made you shiver. He quickly looked away as he tried to distract himself by searching in a drawer for something for you to wear. You had seen him naked before, but he had never seen that much skin for you. It was hard to tear his eyes away from someone so gorgeous. He tossed a t-shirt behind him without looking, or else he’d get hard all over again. 

But seeing you in his clothes might just be worse, it made him feel like you were his and the way his shirt barely covered your thighs had him all too pleased. He didn’t feel tired until he laid down, his body feeling like it weighed a ton as soon as he hit the mattress. And with you right against him, so soft and warm, it wasn’t long before Clyde passed out. 

TAGLIST: @thecurlycaptain, @oh-adam, @givemelifeorgiveme,@pastelprintessa, @yuuyamiartist, @magikevalynn, @formerly-anonhamster

#clyde logan x reader #crack up #clyde logan #werewolf!clyde #werewolf au

[rankdisasster]

Five and Nine dearie! ;)

since you asked about all my stories, I have around 13-ish so this is basically a giant commentary for everything:)🤘🏼😃

hidden in plain sight

what part was hardest to write?

The fucking letters, jesus christ. I thought, ‘hey, wouldnt it be fun to have Billy’s point of view with him reading what she admires about him and make it super lovey dovey and sweet?’ and I almost gave up so many times cause fuck it was hard. Took over a week with switching the wording around and finding what flowed best. Also finding what didn’t sound creepy.

were there alternate versions to this fic?

Nah, I mean I could’ve had their places switch, where he’s the one that writes to her... but I loved writing him feel all blushy and giddy over someone thinking of him like that.

look what you’ve done

what part was hardest to write?

After the fight and the ignoring and all that pent up anger being released, there was an awkward moment with all this tension between the two in her room - that was challenging for sure. Cause he was being a piece of shit and he himself knew it, she knew it, everybody knew it. But what took some thinking was to be able to show the guy he was before the fight and his insecurities getting the best of him.

were there alternate versions of this fic?

I dabbled with a lot of reasons why they’d fight, but Billy as a person is just sensitive and insecure and him seeing something like that, no matter how innocent or short the exchange could’ve been in reality with her and some nameless stranger could still set him off and trigger the monster he’s got hidden inside. I can’t remember other scenarios I had thought of but that one stuck to me.

sixteen

what part was hardest to write?

The relationship felt natural, like I could hear all the conversations they’ve had and seen everything they’d done together, I really really liked that dynamic but one stupid small part that killed me was writing the douchey boyfriend lol. Ultimately it’s such an insignificant part, so I scrapped any further drama with him and his deal because the story wasn’t supposed to be about him; it was supposed to be about her and Billy, their past, how it affected them both when they saw each other again after so long.

were there alternate versions of this fic?

None actually! I had it in my mind right off the bat that I wanted him to be nervous and caught off guard for once. like I said in the commentary for this, I know his personality, I know he’s quite used to thinking/believing he’s the most powerful in the room but I wanted that to change for this instance, and I strayed away from having him be untouchable or macho in any way.

whipped

what part was hardest to write?

THE KIDS. I’ve never ever written them before, and I even debated watching a few episodes before tackling it.... but I didn’t and I think I pulled it off alright. I loved their humor. I knew Dustin was always being a paranoid goofball, Lucas as the same without all the anxiety or nerdy interests, Mike as impatient and pessimistic, and Will as being very quiet. So yeah, I overcame that doubt and just did what I thought felt right.

were there alternate versions to this fic?

I thought a lot about what movie they’d watch - like a rom com would’ve been pretty funny too, but I had to have him tease and scare the kids so I made their movie of the night thing be Nightmare on Elm Street😂

punch-drunk love

what was the hardest part to write?

A lot of this flowed easy and generally wasn’t stressful at all. Describing him as a fun drunk was a blast. Thinking of what he would he say if he had no filter and felt on top of the world. I can’t think of anything that I was held back by this time, it all came out in just a couple hours when I should’ve been sleeping lol.

were there alternate versions to this fic?

When I was brainstorming by myself I thought it would just be more smutty and desperate or even a little more sad. I had it planned that she’d reject him initially, but then I got an ask that changed the game and I’m really proud of how it turned out.

naive

what part was hardest to write?

I hardly went over it or stressed much other than tweaking a few details, but plot was pretty self explanatory - I think the most difficult part to write was all the possible ways there could’ve been scenarios where he could’ve mislead her

were there any alternate versions of this fic?

I almost wanted to write them in class but thought him on lifeguard duty would’ve been more engaging and had a lot more to go off of

old habits die hard

what part was hardest to write?

Literally everything. every. single. PART about writing people have sex is challenging, omg. Foreplay....down to kissing.....then down to actually fucking, I got red the whole time. Especially after posting it I’d almost pissed myself ‘cause it’s so nerve wracking putting smut out there holy christ.

were there alternate versions to this fic?

I wanted to get into their marriage and relationship but.... tbh I thought everyone would just skip it and get to the good stuff. So yeah there was probably an almost started version on my phone where I had backstory on how he proposed and all but thought no one would care too much lol.

obstacle 1

what part was hardest to write?

Hurt/comfort is a little challenging when you wanna do it differently. I wanted to sway away from her being this perfect female caregiver that knows exactly what to say and what to do cause that’s just so hard to picture when it comes to real life and all, not that I’m mixing fiction and life it’s just sometimes hard to believe that every girl is perfect at taking care of a guy breaking down.

were there alternate versions to this fic?

Nothing too different, I reasoned in my head how he’d get into trouble cause there are infinite ways Billy could’ve fucked up but.... stealing chocolate is pretty funny and juvenile, and he knew it too, but he’d absolutely still get his ass whooped anyway.

playing hooky

what part was hardest to write?

I found it hard to know what they’d do after she got blasted, cause.....what would two teenagers do in a small town skipping school? Also easily taking personal experience for her snapping and getting tired of her careful image cause everybody had these impossibly high expectations for her, but what they’d get up to doing that was ‘illegal’ that they could get arrested for took some time to think about.

were there alternate versions to this fic?

At first I pictured them maybe like breaking in somewhere they weren’t supposed to, hence the ‘we could get arrested’ line, but skinny dipping was my favorite pitch.

thick as thieves

what part was hardest to write?

The ending gave me a tough time, I had to think whether or not if I’d forgive someone for doing that shit to me. It’s happened before, to everybody and myself, the pains of drifting apart and the jealousy that comes with seeing them blossom and become social butterflies, the joys of being in high school... Oh and I’m still working on another part:)

were there alternate versions of this fic?

I dabbled with lots of ideas but I knew I wanted two friends growing apart, a push/pull between their relationship...I don’t remember what else I had planned that I ditched.

the craft (1996)

what part was hardest to write?

Maybe the love spell part. I wanted to write it as severe and dramatic as possible, and really show how desperate and gone he was.

were there alternate versions to this fic?

Hmm, I based this off the film and it does show a lot more about the girl group besides the love spell bit, but I wanted it to focus on that cause it was more interesting fucking with Billy. I liked how dark both the movie and the fic was

in utero

what part was hardest to write?

My obstacle with this one was creating this female Billy in my head, which to me was basically a flawed, outrageous, outgoing/promiscuous high school girl who makes a mistake. Writing him pining was definitely enjoyable, and him practicing his lines on how he’d say how he felt and stuff. The wording was switched around a ton, but I’m fairly happy with it. It’s not perfect, he stutters and trails off because he’s nervous, but in it’s own way I think it’s a perfect display of an insecure guy summoning up any courage he has and trying to shoo away any doubt.

were there alternate versions to this fic?

Oh man, tons of ideas came to my head with this one. I wondered if maybe she could’ve never gotten ‘rid’ of ‘it’ and then they run off in the sunset, raise ‘it’ together.... Billy maturing and finding a home with their own family. BUT the reason I chose the path she took was because she’s just a kid, fresh from high school, had no idea what she was gonna do with no money other than visit her best friend. I think she knew she didn’t want it and couldn’t stand the guy who put her in this position, so she ran.

— so there it all is, kudos to you if you actually read this far down and to anyone who has reblogged or commented on any of these.... THANKYOU🖤🥰✨

And especially thanks to Haiden cause you’re the best

#ask #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fic rec