#i trust no one so everyone even slightly associated with my job is blocked from seeing my posts

[davidsons89]

Ouu maybe write something where the reader ends up leaving alex and moves away and he tracks her down (in a non creepy way lol) maybe a little fluffy but still “toxic” haha.....

a/n: ooo good one. we love possessive alex🙊

alex turner x reader

warnings: cussing, mentions of toxic ex-relationship, humiliation, arguing, slight stalking?

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑ ✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

after being in a relationship with alex for a few years, you decided that things needed to come to an end. he was extremely toxic. he was controlling over you, he guilt tripped you all the time, he manipulated you with every chance he got. he abused his power and completely changed you. you had enough.

now things are completely different. you hadn’t spoken to alex in well over a year. you moved on, you made new friends, you lived somewhere totally different. somewhere he wouldn’t even know where to find you. you blocked his number, everyone associated with him and you even got a new phone to avoid him tracking your old one down. you knew how obsessed he was, he’d do something like that. that’s why you got rid of him, you can’t stick to one person for the rest of your life, it’d kill you too soon.

“hey y/n. get in i’ll drop you home” your friend tom said to you as you jumped in the passenger seat of his car. tom is one of the new friends you met many months ago, you joined his friend group and rode with them ever since. you’d spent the majority of today hanging with them all, but now it’s late and you needed to head home.

“hey. thanks” you say as he begins driving to your apartment to take you there. “you’re welcome. i wouldn’t offer anyone better” he giggled flirtatiously. you giggle back and resume conversation with him. “meaning?” you imply with a smile. “you’re the kindest of them all. you have a heart of gold” he smiles at you. you somehow agree with him. you deserve the best for what you’ve been through.

after making small talk the whole way there, you eventually reach your apartment complex and say goodbye to tom by giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. he watched you enter the building safely before driving off. you smiled and waved him away before walking upstairs to get to your apartment, luckily it wasn’t too many stairs. you hate elevators.

you finally enter your apartment and lock the door behind you. you trust nobody, especially when living alone. you kick off your shoes and pull your top off, roaming around the place in just your bra and shorts. who cares? you’re alone. or at least you thought...

you drop your body down onto the sofa after grabbing some snacks to watch a movie. you found something that caught your eye on netflix, and began watching it. about 20 minutes into the movie you needed to pee, so you paused it and stood up to walk to the bathroom. you spent a few minutes freshening up before walking back out. when you got back to the living area, you noticed your bag of chips had moved. you frowned in confusion, but you didn’t think too much of it. you just shrugged it off and sat back down, before you heard a crunch right behind you. you quickly turned around and noticed alex stood behind the sofa eating your bag of chips. you scream in fear and quickly stand up, pressing your hand to your chest to make sure you weren’t having a literal heart attack. he slyly smiles at you.

“w.. how.. what the hell are you doing here?” you nervously speak, not knowing what to even ask. “you didn’t think you could hide from me forever, did you?” he chuckled as he continued to eat your favorite chips. you frown and hesitatingly take a step forward, grabbing the bag from his hand and snatching it away. “i wasn’t hiding. we’re done. you have no reason to be here” you gulp, frowning at him. your nerves made you feel sick to your stomach.

“you’re done. not me. i never got to say what i wanted to” he shrugged, his voice bringing back memories of old times, times you didn’t want to be reminded of. “then what?” you ask, wanting him to finish saying whatever he had to say before you kick him out. “you broke up with me, then you leave town like you’re some criminal. i talked to your family and they said you haven’t spoken to them in months” he raises his eyebrows. “i don’t want to talk to them. i’ve moved on, i have my own life” you roll your eyes. a moment of silence struck upon you both. “and i’ve certainly moved on from you. so can you please get out?” you ask in the politest way possible.

he ignored you and just simply stared you down. “so who was that guy you were with?” he asked after a few moments of silence went by. he looked toward the window and pointed at it. “my friend tom. my friend” you raise your voice at the end to emphasize him being just a friend. “friends don’t kiss each other” he forced a smile as he looked directly into your eyes. “what, a kiss on the cheek? grow up.” you roll your eyes in annoyance at him. why is he even here?

“i have grown up. you’re the one that hasn’t. still as bitchy as ever, running away from everyone. you call that adult behavior?” he chuckles at you. “i came here to get away from people like you” you raise your voice at him, completely forgetting you’re casually stood in your bra and shorts, you catch him looking away from your face to look down at your chest. you cover your boobs by crossing your arms over your chest. “my eyes are up here” you huff. he looks back up. “you get a boob job or just gained weight?” he snickers. he hasn’t spoken to you in a year and yet he still humiliates you even he gets the chance.

“oh you fucking asshole. get out” you raise your voice and shake your head at his audacity, immediately cocking your finger toward the front door. he laughs at you, making you feel stupid. you put your arm down and roll your eyes. you’re feeling too many emotions at once to focus on one. “what? they were never that big” he shrugs, still snickering.

“ok, you came here to humiliate me, now be on your way” you say, avoiding eye contact with him. “oh y/n. i came here to say sorry” he says softly, taking a step closer to you but you back away. being near him was the very last thing you wanted.

“that’s your way of saying sorry?” you scoff sarcastically. the anger in you was making you laugh. “no. i’m sorry” he says, turning completely serious to apologize for the unnecessary comment he made. you sigh through your nose and ignore him. “really, y/n. i’m sorry. i came here to apologize for how i acted towards you” he started, until you wondered something.

“wait. how did you know i was here?” you frown at him. he had no way to find you, it’s quite concerning. “i have my ways.” he chuckles awkwardly. “no, seriously how?” you ask again. you thought you had yourself hidden pretty well, but clearly not.

he took a deep breath before responding a few moments later. “maybe you shouldn’t post as much on social media. i had to take one look at your friends profiles to find where you were” he smartly smiled. you frowned however. “you don’t even have social media” you say. “maybe i don’t.” he shrugged weirdly, there’s something he didn’t want to say but you brushed it past you. “how did you even get in here?” you ask. the door to your apartment was locked. “maybe you also shouldn’t hide a spare key in a very obvious place. i could’ve been a serial killer. BAM, you’re dead” he joked, bending his fingers to make a gun gesture with his hand. he raised his voice and pretended to shoot you, causing you to flinch. he noticed it.

“hey, i was only joking” he calmly says while putting his hand down, not wanting to startle you even more. “can you please leave? i don’t want you here.” you say nervously, your emotions riling up inside you. you begin to feel shaky, meaning you were about to cry. you tried bottling up your emotions and tried your hardest to keep your tears in, but alex knew you too well. “y/n don’t cry. come here” he says, opening his arms to take a step closer to you. you already made it clear that you didn’t want him near you, but you were too distracted by your crying. you tried hiding your face as he pulled you into a hug, burying your head into his chest. “hey hey. it’s ok, shhh” he whispers, holding onto the back of your head to make you feel safe. you slightly did, but you promised yourself you wouldn’t go back to him. ever.

it soon came into realization that you were stood half naked hugging your horrible ex, crying on him. you immediately shifted out of his grip and stepped back, not realizing how close to the coffee table you were. you accidentally tripped over it, causing you to stumble back. luckily, alex caught you before you fell and hurt yourself. he helps you regain your balance before you push him away. “don’t touch me” you say. you wanted to hit him so bad for all the pain he caused you. you hated his guts. but right now, you can’t hate him.

he surrendered his hands and took a small step back to reassure you that he wasn’t going to touch you. you felt a little better. “please get the hell out” you shake your head and point to the door. he looks out the window and notices the pouring down rain. “i came all this way, and you’re gonna kick me out, out there?” he says, pointing to the window. you notice the harsh rain and rethink your words. you huff in a moment of silence and look at him. “want a coffee?” you asked in shame, avoiding eye contact with him. you felt terrible for letting him stay, but you’d feel worse if you kicked him out in the cold.

he nods and accepts your offer. you invite him to sit down while you walk to the kitchen to make two cups of coffee. you felt like a total fucking idiot, you kept telling yourself ‘don’t be stupid’ in your head, but tried to keep it cool. no matter what happens tonight, he’s never coming back. not ever. you know better than that.

#alex turner #arctic monkeys #alex turner x reader #alex turner fanfic

[justletmeplayminecraft]

five times the hermits reassured xb his reputation doesn’t matter to them & one time they didn’t need to

another fic in @martuzzio‘s space outlaw au! this was a bit of an in-between whilst i prepped for a bigger project. this time: exploring xb and his feelings towards his false accusation.

featuring: xb needs hugs, i promise he gets them, me trying to feel out voices, lots of reassuring hermits, they’re a big family okay, xb is Not Okay with his bounty and the effects it causes, but they’re there to help, some cute kids, when you have problems: lie in a pool, its angst with comfort, the usual.

warnings: people are mean, panic attack, minor violence, less minor off-screen violence (mentioned gun violence, no details), low self image, self worth issues, bad decisions made whilst possibly dissociating, i swear its happy at the end.

1.

XB has never been one for public attention. He'd always been happy at his job. He minded his own business, enjoyed the research and helping people. Sometimes he even socialised with his co-workers, though that rarely extended outside of work. He lived a solitary life, away from the public eye, and he was happy with that. He had his lot. He didn't need anything else.

Then the accident happened and his world turned upside down.

Everything he'd built for himself, the comfortable life he'd made, fell apart at his feet. Suddenly he was to blame for the corruption of an entire planet. And he knew- he knew it wasn't really his fault. It was a complete mismanagement, barely even his department! But maybe if he'd paid more attention, worked faster, spoken out-

He can't change things now.

What followed was the most stressful period of his life. He watched as charges stacked up, already convicted in the public opinion. He went on the run, hiding on the half-dead planet and just trying to survive, really. He stopped keeping track of anything else, feeling sick as people demanded his head. His abilities saved him from two assassination attempts. He ran further, hid better.

Until he met the Hermits.

After all this time, he's not quite sure how he ended up joining them. He thought he was dead when he first caught sight of that emblem. This was it. The outside world had finally caught up. Then they helped him. Then he was on their ship. Then Xisuma was asking in a kind voice if he wanted to become one of them. A Hermit.

To tell the truth, if he knew the reaction it'd cause, he wouldn't have agreed. He would have said no, been dropped on a planet with a new identity, and gone on his way into obscurity. Instead, he said yes. He became a Hermit with a capital H. It felt good, at first. To be part of something like that. They had his back, they knew the situation.

The publicity didn't happen immediately. The Hermits were a smaller group back then. It took a short while until the rest of the universe caught up. Even now, he has no idea who first broke the story. One night, he falls asleep, lounging in the pool. In the morning he wakes up to a slander campaign.

Not against him. Against the Hermits. Because of him.

Hermits protecting planet destroyer, Hermits support massacre, Hermits criminal, Hermits, Hermits, Hermits, Him.

Joe is the one who finds him having a panic attack at the bottom of the pool. He's first aware of light touches against his skin, the water swirling in ways he doesn't expect. He opens his eye in a panic, but Joe is already shielding his face. He gestures a thumbs up and it takes all of XB's effort to remember what that means. He nods in a rush, realises Joe can't see that, and tugs him up instead.

They surface together. XB takes a strangled gasp of air, struggling lungs already unhappy. Joe guides him to the side, speaking firm instructions XB doesn't fully process but obeys all the same. Eventually, they sit at the edge of the pool. He can't feel the water around his legs. He can barely feel Joe's hand on his back, rubbing circles. He loses track of time completely.

Joe doesn't leave him.

He waits, his hand and unintelligible words a companion whilst XB fights for air. When XB can make out his counting, he tries to follow Joe's encouragement and take deep breaths. His heartbeat continues racing. He squeezes Joe's free hand tight.

Once he's finally confident enough, he mumbles, "Sorry." Joe makes an audible noise of disagreement. He places something cool in XB's hand. It takes sliding his finger around to realise it's his eye protection.

"Nothing to apologise for," Joe tells him. With his eye controlled, XB can finally see Joe's face. The Hermit is looking at him with a gentle calmness, water dripping from his skin and hair. Without the pounding in his ears, XB can hear them splash against the tiles. "I'm going to go out on one of Cleo's limbs here, and guess you saw the news." XB rubs at one of his fins with a nod.

"I shouldn't have joined you guys."

"I disagree," Joe replies. XB turns away. He kicks his legs just enough to create gentle ripples in the water.

"I've made a right mess of things. For everyone." Joe bloops, leaning onto his hand.

"Hardly more of a mess than before," he tells him. There's no doubt at all in his voice. No anger. "XB, you have to understand we knew what would happen when we took you on. We care about you. Not the opinions of the faceless masses. If we cared about that then we wouldn't get anything done." XB sighs, a drop of water falling from his fin.

"How can you be so calm about this?" He asks. He can't find anything else to say. Joe pats his back lightly.

"In the same way I was calm when False joined." He kicks his feet. "Things will be dramatic. It might feel like the end of the world. But sometimes you just have to trust Xisuma knows what he's doing. And I certainly think he did when he invited you." Joe pushes onto his feet, offering his hand for XB. XB takes it, trying not to use it too much. Joe is sturdy despite that. "This will pass," Joe encourages, "And you will always have a place here."

"That's a pretty bold statement." Joe doesn't let go of XB's hand. He leads them away from the pool, not caring about the trail of water as they go.

"And yet it's a true one." XB chooses to focus on the ground instead. He's...

He'll get back to Joe on that one.

2.

It's not often XB leaves the ship. He has one of the higher bounties out of all of them. Close to False's, and she actually deserves her's. He was terrified of her until she patiently taught him how to handle weapons, not once becoming frustrated as he struggled. She's still terrifying, but at least she's on his side.

Keralis was the one who pestered him out this time. The promise of buying extra fruit had tempted him into the supply run. He just needed a partner in crime (no leaving the ship without one) and pretty please, XB, pretty please?

So now XB is stood in the middle of a store, scanning the shelves and checking his half of the shopping list. He worries his lip, standing and catching a woman staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He continues searching, but her stare doesn't let up. He finally turns.

"Um, excuse me?" He asks, tilting his head in genuine concern. "Are you-" He doesn't expect her to surge forward, fury written on her face.

"If you weren't with those filthy Hermits I'd have you." The woman shoves his chest, forcing his back against the shelves. He blinks, fins flicking in defence.

"Wha-?"

"You go and you murder an entire planet. Don't show a bit of remorse. Then you run and hide behind them like a coward." XB can feel eyes on him now, the entire store falling silent at the exchange. He thinks he might be trembling. He can't quite tell. The woman is up in his face. His hand itches to take his eye protection off, gently put her to sleep and run. But there's witnesses, there's so many people and- "Maybe I should just do it right now. Consequences be damned." Her fingernails scratch into his armour, and he nearly falls as she pulls him forward.

"Oh, wow wow wow wow wow, ma'am." XB has never been more relieved to see Keralis. He steps in between them, blocking her from taking XB any further. "Could you unhand my friend, please? You're not being very nice." To XB's horror, she doesn't, nearly dragging him into Keralis as she gestures.

"What authority do you have?" She demands. "Defending a murderer like this, you should be ashamed of yourself." Keralis holds his hands up, ears twitching very slightly.

"XB is a perfectly good person. No murderer in him. And we'd like to leave, please." There's a threatening hint to Keralis's usually bright tone. The hand around his arm is finally released.

She storms away with a shout of, "You'll get what's coming to you!" XB's legs jellify beneath him. Keralis is quick to get an arm around his shoulders, holding him up.

"Come on, back to the ship with you. That's enough adventure for today." XB nods, resting briefly on Keralis's shoulders. With a bit of effort, he keeps himself steady enough to follow Keralis out of the store. He tries to ignore the eyes that follow them, the tightness it causes in his chest.

"What about the shopping?" His voice is quiet even to him. Keralis shakes his head.

"It's okay. Shishwamy will send someone else to do it. No worries." XB tries to let that comfort him but it only makes his anxiety worse. Once again, things are messed up because of him. This will put them off schedule, someone else will need to come out, and they'll all know it's because of him.

"Maybe," he starts, hesitating and continuing. "Maybe I shouldn't wear my suit when I come out." Keralis chirps in concern, keeping them at the edge of the busy streets.

"And why do you say that?" XB looks at his arm, at the deep colours and intricate patterns and mechanisms that make up the suit.

"It might be easier if people don't like, associate me with the Hermits when I'm in public." Keralis frowns, a big expression on his face. He squeezes the arm around XB's shoulders.

"XB, sweetiepie-" Keralis nudges his head against XB's. The hair tickles enough to make him gently laugh. "-If you don't want to wear your suit for your own safety, that's okay! But don't you go taking it off because you're afraid of making us look bad. No siree! You're a Hermit, XB, and we love you."

"That doesn't change people's opinions of me." Opinions so strong they're willing to threaten him in daylight, and nobody steps in. Keralis chitters.

"Doesn't change people's opinion of me either! But I know they won't be upset if we have to avoid a planet, or I can't attend a meeting. We care about you. And I'm sure there's lots of people out there who care about you too." XB can't bring himself to respond to that. He knows Keralis is discriminated against for being a banshee. But it's just...

It's not the same as being blamed for destroying an entire planet.

XB doesn't go out in public again for nearly a year.

3.

"I can't believe this," Doc announces as he storms into the room. XB twitches, instinctively listening whilst he tries to focus on his book. He's tucked in the corner of the common room, buried in beanbags and mostly out of sight. He can see the wall of Cleo's hair move as she looks up.

"What's happened this time?" She asks, placing her book on the table. She moves her legs so Doc can sit down. It's been a busy few months for the ship. They've had new additions. Doc is one of them. He's fallen quickly into helping Xisuma with negotiations, managing their various relationships with other groups. XB is kinda terrified of him, actually. But he trusts Xisuma and his judgement. He wouldn't do anything to put them in danger.

"A group has dropped their support of us because of the latest drama." Doc collapses into the seat, leaning into the cushions. "I can't believe it, man." XB presses his mouth together, his fins pressing back. The latest drama being people remembering he exists as a Hermit. Some news came out about the planet he- he didn't destroy. He's been avoiding going online but, apparently it's inescapable.

"Seriously?" Cleo asks. She scowls behind her hair. "That's so stupid." Doc hums his agreement.

"I just don't get it." He throws his robotic hand up as he talks, leaning towards Cleo. "I mean, I've barely seen the guy, but he doesn't seem that bad. Not bad enough to make a campaign like this." XB swallows. He puts his book down in favour of squeezing his hands into his robe. Cleo sighs, nodding.

"He really isn't. I don't know why they keep dragging it up." She grabs one of her legs, pulling it up close to her. She leans on her knee. "You should've seen him when he first joined, Doc. Guy looked ready to accept his death."

"He doesn't even look capable of doing that to a planet-" XB almost chokes, standing and abandoning his book entirely.

"Sorry I'm- I'm just leaving." He wraps his arms around himself, ready to stumble out of the room.

Cleo is faster, jumping up and grabbing his arm, pulling him back with a stern, "XB." She pushes him between them, sitting him down and reclaiming her spot. XB ducks his head, tucking his legs up in front of him.

"XB, sorry man, I didn't realise you were in here." Doc sounds apologetic. He's looking at XB with worry, sat a careful distance away to avoid crowding him in. XB still finds him a frightening sight. The un-moving robotics bore into him.

"It's okay," he murmurs, wrapping his arms around his knees. "I would've found out eventually." Doc frowns.

"I meant talking about you like you weren't here," Doc says. "I'm not usually a gossip. Though I would've preferred to tell you more sensitively."

"If we knew they were gonna drop us over some false allegations, X wouldn't have allied with them to start with," Cleo tells him, crossing her arms as she sinks back.

"They don't really know it's false though," XB points out. "I mean, it's not like this isn't a ship of criminals." He can't help his glance at Doc as he says it. Thankfully, the former mafia leader takes no offence.

"I barely know you, XB, and even I can tell it's stupid." Doc's accented voice portrays his emotions well. "You seem like you've been a big help to the Hermits."

"He has been." Cleo pokes his legs with her foot. “You're a Hermit through and through, XB. No escaping it now."

"Everybody here has only good things to say about you, man. I'm proud to call you a crew mate. Who cares what anyone else thinks?" XB smiles, relaxing more onto his knees. It's nice to hear but-

He cares.

4.

XB sighs as he flicks his fins back, fitting his helmet on snug and letting them pop into place. Keralis had to dip last minute, so XB is going to this meeting instead. He's not particularly intimidating, but hopefully he'll be able to defuse the situation if needs must. Two of the newer Hermits are coming as well. He watches as they suit up, making an odd pair. XB still isn't sure what to think of the group. Python vouched for them, but ex-Convex members? Especially such high ranking ones? And now one of them is going to a negotiation with them? Right.

"Is everybody ready?" Xisuma asks. There's a chorus of affirmatives. Doc stands next to Xisuma, files under his arms. "Let's get moving, then."

They keep as a tight unit, going over the plan once more. Xisuma and Doc will be doing the negotiating. XB and Wels, the other new Hermit, are there for protection. Scar, the ex-Convex, is there for luck. XB doesn't get it, and he's not going to ask.

The meeting falls apart from the moment they arrive, really. The crew they're meeting turn and whisper to each other, too quiet for XB's translator to pick up. Their admin steps forward, slit eyes threatening.

"You insult us," XB's suit translates. He can see Xisuma's suit plating shift as he tenses. He speaks in their language.

"I'm afraid I don't know where you're coming from," he replies, his voice controlled even in translation. Their admin steps closer. Any other person would've stepped away. Xisuma stands firm, Doc coming to his side.

"You bring a Convex member and a planet destroyer to our meeting." XB twitches, wanting nothing more than to sneak out of the room. "It is bad enough you grant them safety, but to have them in our negotiation?"

"Scar has denounced Convex, and the allegations against XB are false." Xisuma's voice is level, his posture not showing a hint of weakness. "Do you wish to negotiate or should we end this meeting here?"

"I recommend you leave with your lives while you can." XB shudders, fighting to stay still. He's thankful the helmet hides his expression.

"I recommend you don't threaten my crew." The temperature in the room drops with Xisuma's voice. The other admin steps back, eyeing them suspiciously. Xisuma turns to the Hermits, keeping an eye on the opposing crew. He nods. "We'll take our leave."

They exit at that, all of them keeping a watch that they aren't followed onto the ship. It's only when the door closes behind them that they relax. Wels darts to Scar's side. The ex-Convex collapses against the wall, trembling in his hold. XB looks away. That feels like something private. Definitely not something he'd expect from ex-Convex.

Apparently he's considered equivalent to the Convex. The thought makes him dizzy. Doc and Xisuma are already talking in low voices, recounting what happened and planning their next steps. XB is incredibly out of place. He glances around the room, trying not to feel jealous when he sees how close Scar and Wels are, how gentle Wels sounds, their helmets pressed together. XB swallows and slips out of the entrance hall before any of them notice.

He ignores anyone he passes until he reaches his room, closing the door behind him. His armour comes off, and he dives into the pool in the adjoining space. He sighs, lying face down in the water, barely feeling the fabric layer he left on. The liquid is a friendly pressure. Something comforting after all of... This. No matter what happens, he'll always have water.

Time passes as he lies there, blocking out the world outside the water. He tries not to think about how he's messed things up again. There isn't much else to think about, though. He doesn't understand why the Hermits keep him around when he causes so many problems. Lost deals, alliances, constant bad publicity. All tied to one person. Wouldn't it be easier to cut him off? XB could manage. Maybe he should do it for them.

"XB?" He jumps at the sound of an opening door, instinctively reaching up to cover his eye.

"Eye!" He calls, hearing the footsteps stop.

"Oh," Hypno's voice calls back. "Hold on, dude." XB follows the movement around his bedroom, until an object is placed in his hands with a pat. "There you go." XB pulls it over his eye, checking it's secure before looking. Hypno's crouched in front of him. He smiles, waving his fingers.

"How'd you know I was here?" XB asks, resting at the edge of the pool. Hypno sits down, not complaining about the wet floor.

"Guessed," he admits with a shrug. "They were worried when they realised you'd vanished." XB sighs, resting his chin on his arms.

"They seemed busy."

"Well, they are." Hypno nods in agreement. He crosses his legs so he can lean towards XB. "Xisuma doesn't want to stick around in case that crew turns hostile. But he was still worried about you."

XB frowns, "There's nothing to worry about."

"Is that why you're hiding in your pool?" Hypno asks. It's clearly not a question. XB slouches back into the water. "XB, it's not your fault, dude. You can't keep blaming yourself."

"Then who do I blame?" XB can't help but sound grouchy. If it weren't for him then that meeting might have worked out. Maybe they would've been fine with just Scar. Hypno leans back as he counts on his hand.

"The company for not taking responsibility, the management that decided to frame you, the other employees who were complicit, the news companies that were likely paid off, the ones that latched onto the story without researching it, the ones that keep bringing it up for quick clicks." Hypno turns to look at him. "Do I need to keep going?" XB shakes his head.

"I think I get the message," he replies. "But I'm not sure if it helps." Hypno nods without judgement.

"Then what do you think will?" He tries, instead. XB partially closes his eye to think about it.

"I'm not really sure." Hypno rubs his shoulder. The texture of dry skin helps ground him.

"That's okay." Hypno’s voice is friendly, reassuring. XB knows he's turned this into an impromptu therapy session. He thinks he needs it. "How about we try to work it out together? You're my friend, XB. I want you to be happy with us. I don't want you to feel guilty over things that aren't your fault." Hypno holds a hand out. "So, are you willing to work with me?" XB smiles, kicking up to meet his hand.

"Yeah. I think I can give it a shot."

5.

They'd been outside, spending some time in the sunshine of the planet, then somebody-

XB squeezes his fins, continuing to pace the corridor outside the infirmary. Stress has closed the windows, needing to focus, and XB doesn't want to make anything worse. This is all his fault. Hypno's lying in there having emergency surgery because somebody wanted to kill XB. He finally falls against one of the walls as his legs give way, sliding to the floor with a quiet noise.

He formulates a plan in his head.

He's already been distant lately. This was the first time he'd hung out with Hypno in weeks, and look at what's happened. He can't be friends with people if he's going to hurt them. They'll understand. He hopes they'll understand.

He takes a deep breath.

His memories of the next hour are faint. He packs essentials into a bag. Leaves his suit and communicator neatly on his bed. He takes the emergency savings he keeps tucked away in his drawer, counting through without really taking it in. Though he writes a note, he doesn't remember what it contains. He thinks he stood in the doorway for a few minutes. Used some time to take in the room he's called home for so many years now. He really can’t remember.

Then he sneaks out, carefully unscrewing panels in the water filtration system, replacing them with care. He knows it like the back of his hand. He installed it, after all. The drop from the ship hurts his leg but nothing in his head registers it. He's lucky this is a big enough planet to park her. Means it'll be so much easier to get lost.

He wraps himself up in a coat, pulling it over his features. Some small part of him can't believe he's doing this. The Hermits are all he's known for years. They're his friends. But that's why it's so important he leaves. He survived on his own before. He can do it again.

He finds a room in a hotel for the night. The robotic receptionist doesn't question who he is, accepting the money and giving him the door key. He collapses onto the bed in a heap, realising he has no idea what he's going to do next. His plan kind of trails off here. Perhaps he'll hide out in this hotel until the ship leaves, but that's wasting money. It's probably better to head out for supplies, and get on a ship as far away as possible.

For today, he's exhausted enough to curl up under the covers and hide from the world. It doesn’t feel like he’s part of it right now, anyway.

There's a knock at the door.

He sighs, burying his face into the pillow. The knock only gets more insistent. Realistically, it's either the Hermits or somebody who's here to kill him. The fact they've not broken down the door yet suggests the Hermits. Well, the more responsible ones. XB keeps a hand on his eye strap either way. He's still in the rumpled coat.

He'll admit, he's surprised to see Xisuma in the doorway. The admin is wearing a cloak, his shadowed eyes nearly glowing in the darkness. He looks tired. When doesn’t he?

"Can I come in?" Xisuma asks, keeping his voice quiet. XB nods, stepping aside. If only because X should not be stood out in the corridor of some hotel in the same town someone tried to kill XB half a day earlier.

"I hope you're not here on your own," XB tells him, sitting on the bed. Xisuma finds a chair by the desk, sitting down tidily.

"Some of the others are nearby," Xisuma replies. "They checked it was safe first. Out of concern for you, as well." XB leans against the wall. "Hypno is okay, by the way. He was asking after you." XB sighs, tucking away into the coat.

"You're trying to make me feel guilty."

Xisuma shakes his head, "I'm letting you know. He was worried. We all were."

"He could have died because of me," XB doesn't try hiding it. Not from himself.

"Were you the one who shot him?" Xisuma asks. There's no change from his gentle tone.

"No, but-"

"Then you weren't the reason." XB knows, logically, that's true. He wasn't the one who fired on him. He didn't frame himself, all those years ago. It's just hard to prove that in his head. Not when the consequences are right in front of him. When he’s spent so long thinking about everything he could’ve done differently.

"It feels like I am," he says, tilting forward on the bed. "I don't want to make the people around me unsafe anymore. Any of the Hermits." Xisuma nods, sitting up in the chair.

"If you want to leave, I won't stop you." XB swallows. He really can just leave. Just... Go. "But I want you to consider if that's what you want to do. Not because you want to protect us. We can protect ourselves. Do you want to leave?" XB digs his fingers into his leg.

"I'm not sure." Does he want to leave? He wants to keep the others safe. He wants to stop giving the Hermits his bad reputation. But they're still his friends. His family. He doesn't want to leave them, but he doesn't see a compromise.

"XB." He automatically looks to Xisuma when he says his name. "I am truly sorry I never addressed this with you before. I'm sorry it's been affecting you for so long."

"It's not your fault," XB replies. Xisuma shakes his head.

"I should have done more for you. And I'm willing to offer that now." XB’s fins twitch in confusion. "What do you say we try and clear your name?"

"You don't need to do that for me."

"I want to. The others want to." Xisuma crosses the room, sitting down in front of XB. "That's what I'm offering. You can stay with us. We want you to stay with us. And we'll help you achieve this. However we can."

"Nothing that would put you in danger," XB corrects.

"Nothing that would put the Hermits in danger," Xisuma agrees. XB shuts his eye, considering what that would mean for him. It's not like everyone would believe it. It's not going to solve all his problems. But it's a start. He can't just- keep feeling guilty forever. He's so tired of it. "You're family, XB. We want you happy." XB nods, leaning forward. His body is heavy with relief. Xisuma welcomes him into his arms.

"Okay," he agrees, "I want the same."

+1

XB pauses at the sound of loud shouting coming from the park. He turns, watching Keralis jump to the fence delighted. Hypno laughs, gently pulling XB to watch.

"You can't get me!" A girl yells, dark cornrows pulled into a bun. She climbs onto the play equipment, standing with confidence at the top. Another girl runs to the ladder, her hand held in mimic of a gun. Her blonde hair is done in a braid.

"You can't run forever!" She follows it up with loud 'pew's, hanging off the ladder as she pretends to shoot.

"Yeah, I can put you to sleep!" Another boy climbs up the slide, his brown hair falling into his eyes. Keralis is chirping in excitement, watching with a wide smile. The chirps attract the attention of the blonde. She gasps, losing her grip on the ladder and falling backwards.

Keralis makes a surprised noise. He jumps the fence, rushing to the girl's side. XB doesn't see any parents around, following with Hypno.

"Hey, little madam, are you okay?" Keralis asks, crouching down by the girl. She sits up, bouncing forward with glee.

"You're Hermits!" She cries, voice high and squeaky. The other two kids are peering at them around the play equipment. Their mouths hang open.

"We are!" Keralis agrees. "And what's your name?" The girl's hands spread out across the spongy playground floor.

"I'm Flora!" She grins. "I like it 'cause it starts with an 'F', like False." Keralis nods, offering his hands to stand the girl up again. She wobbles on her feet, spinning to show off her plait. “And we have the same hair colour! It’s so cool!”

"Yeah, False is really cool, isn't she?" Keralis watches with a carefully controlled smile. It’s cute how he tries not to scare them. She jumps, holding her arms out wide.

"She's so cool! She's my favourite."

"Not as cool as Stress!" The other girl calls, running into her friend's back. She nearly sends them both sprawling over again. "She helps people, no matter what! I want to do that." Hypno joins Keralis, pulling XB over with him.

"A very noble cause," Hypno tells her. "I'm sure you'll be amazing." She puts her hands on her hips with a grin.

"Yeah. I'm gonna be the best doctor you've ever seen."

"Yeah, but Stress doesn't have four arms," Flora points out, mimicking each style of weaponry. "How cool would that be?" Keralis laughs, a series of cheerful chirps escaping with it.

"They're both cool, how about that?" He suggests, before it turns into a full argument.

"What about you?" Hypno encourages, holding an arm out for the boy. "Do you have a favourite?"

"His favourite is XB," the dark haired girl says, pointing at him. XB places a hand on his chest, unable to contain a squeak of surprise.

"Me?" He checks, not quite able to believe that. The three nod their heads. They peer up at him in a semi-circle, with bright eyes and curious faces.

"You can put people to sleep like Hypno-" the boy points at him, "-But you got such a cool backstory!"

"Mm-hm!" Flora nods quickly. "Framed by an evil company, joining the Hermits to do good across the universe!" She poses towards the sky, pumping her fist and bending a leg up. XB laughs softly, finding himself hiding behind his hand.

"Oh, oh, oh!" The boy jumps forward, looking between Hypno and XB. "Can you put us to sleep? That would be so cool!" Hypno laughs at that, joined by Keralis's squeaky giggles.

"I don't think that would be smart." He pats the boy's hair, smiling at XB. "But, if you've got something for us to sign, we could do that?" The girl claps, grabbing Flora's hands excitedly.

"We've got our cards!" She shrieks. She grabs the boy's hand. "Ben, come on, let's get them!" The trio run off across the playground, digging in their bags. XB can see the look Hypno and Keralis are giving him. He smiles, ducking his head in embarrassment.

"Don't you two start," he warns, hiding behind his hands. Keralis leans over, gently wiggling one of XB's fins.

"You're his favourite," he teases, voice sing-song. XB laughs, hiding even further.

"Noooo," he whines. Hypno puts his arm around XB's shoulders, pulling him into a side hug.

"And they're smarter than the press," he tells XB, his voice trying to sound serious, but playful all the same.

"Much, much smarter!" Keralis agrees.

"Only 'cause of you guys," XB reminds them. Keralis takes XB’s other side, pinning him between his friends.

“Nah.” Keralis rubs his fist against XB’s head. “You’re just finally getting the love you deserve.”

“Absolutely.” Hypno tilts around so XB can see his smile. XB ducks his head, embarrassed. But the feeling doesn’t leave him. Not as they talk to the kids, signing their cards and telling them (child friendly) stories of their travels. Or amongst the loudness of the other Hermits. His family. He’s a Hermit. And the people who care about him are the ones who matter.

#space outlaws #space outlaws au #not gonna maintag this one lmao #my writing #tbh im just a sucker for ppl reassuring others #knowing you have a place somewhere #its good stuff #also u can somewhat track time passing across seasons by who appears lmao #and i liked the lil side things i snuck in #doc n cleo having bonded over similar histories #wels n scar having a bond #the forehead touch is becoming a thing #anyway enough rambling #hope yall enjoyed

[callmemythicalminx]

Into The Valley Of Death - Tommy Angelo x Reader (Angst)

Fandon: Mafia Definitive Edition

Warnings: Angst, major violence, blood, explicit descriptions of bodily harm, refrences to sexual assualt, kidnapping, explicit language. 

Summary: The gang war in Lost Heaven is at it’s peak. In a twisted and cruel move against Salieri which sets the end of the conflict into motion, you are catalyst which pushes your family charging into the valley of death. 

A/N: Please don’t read this if you are triggered by any of the warnings or feel you may not be able to handle what this fic has in store. It’s dark in many ways and I wouldn’t want anyone be affected phsyical or mentally, so please read with caution. 

Dedicated to: @kaiiiiiiparkerismyhusband @lolita-wolfson@mayday1284 @xxsamanthaxx @kneelingforvillains@loutino20@levitate-gengar @dorothynerding ​ @blackbladevika ​@my-blog-for-me ​ @rammstein-obsession ​ @octorebel @demonsouthere ​

---

Things are tense in Lost Heaven. This gang war is sending shockwaves through the city, leaving nothing but destruction in its wake. Everyone you know is on edge, constantly looking over their shoulder and preparing for the worst. The men are stressed but try to stay immovable in the face of danger, the love for their family overpowering all fear. Yourself and the rest of the women are supporting them in any way you can. Together, you’re fighting against Morello, but you can tell the line is drawing thin. A catalyst to end this war is coming, you can feel it. 

You’re all exhausted beyond measure. Late nights spent planning, shootouts in the streets and the losses of those held dear had taken their toll. This was especially evident in your husband- you don’t think you’ve ever seen Tommy this tired before. Being one of Salieri’s most trusted men meant he was constantly out, running jobs. Nowadays, you only ever see him when he comes home, late into the night. He can only muster up enough strength to give you a sweet kiss before collapsing into your arms and falling asleep beneath the covers of your bed. You always lie awake as he sleeps, absent-mindedly stroking his hair while you pray to every god imaginable that he’ll return home safe the next night, the one after, and every other for the rest of your lives. 

As you stand in the bathroom of Salieri’s, looking at your pale, wet face in the mirror, you pray even now that he will return home to you. After drying your face and swirling your mouth out, you turn towards the toilet and flush down the remaining contents of what was in your stomach not five minutes ago. You sigh as your gaze slips down to your stomach again. In the dim bathroom light, you can barely see the small bump there. Your hands rise, caressing gently. It’s time to find out. If something happens to you… or him. You need to know for sure. 

You leave the bathroom, thankful there’s no one around to ask why you were in there so long. As you make your way back to the meeting room, you pass Sarah who gives you a small sympathetic smile. She’d guessed weeks back after you’d thrown up while she was cooking that you might be pregnant. Not a day later, she’d booked you in for a test at the doctors across the road. You didn’t want to believe it, worried about bringing a child into the world during such a tense time. Somewhere deep inside though, you were excited at the thought of carrying a baby inside you… something beautiful that you and Tommy had created together. 

You collect your purse from your desk, closing the account books and locking them away in the safe. You’d finish your work for today as soon as you got back from the doctors. After slipping on your coat, you leave through the back of the bar and head towards the gate around the side. One of the guards, Antonio, frantically runs over to you before you can open it, pushing his hand against it. 

“I’m sorry Y/N, you can’t leave right now. We ain’t got anyone on hand to escort you.” This is another thing draining everyone. Straight from the Don himself, he ordered that anytime anyone left their home or the bar, they needed someone with them for protection. You appreciated it of course, but it was exhausting having someone follow you everywhere and you knew the soldiers were always tired too, having to look after themselves and an important family member at the same time. You smile at Antonio gently and place your hand on his arm. 

“I’m only going across the road to the doctors, I don’t need an escort today.” At his unmoving expression, you sigh in frustration. “This is a very important appointment- I can’t miss it. You can just keep an eye on me from here, just stand near the gate and you’ll still be able to see me. Okay?” You can see the wheels turning in his head, his face twisting this way and that. Eventually, he must come to a decision as he quickly nods his head and reluctantly opens the gate slightly, enough for you to slip out. 

“Just be quick.” You can hear the bite of fear in his voice, so you send a small reassuring smile his way, nodding, before quickly walking across the road into the clinic. 

---

As you step out into the sunlight again, you stop and take a deep shuddering breath. Inside your chest, your heart still pounds, hyperactive with all the emotions flooding your body. You’re actually pregnant. You’re going to be a mother. And Tommy… he’s going to be a father. Tears form in the corner of your eyes, slipping down your cheeks before you can try to stop them. You’re overjoyed. Worried. Excited. Scared. You feel like a million questions are racing through your head, your thoughts a jumbled mess. All you can seem to fathom or even understand in the frenzy... is that you’re going to have a baby. 

You’re too wrapped up in your happiness to notice the truck parked down the road drive closer. Your jumbled mind doesn’t recognise the men getting out as it slowly moves. The sight of the men in suits doesn’t register in your mind. Nor do the handguns in their hands. It’s only as the truck stops in front of you, blocking the sunlight, that your eyes focus. The glint of silver metal shines in the corner of your eye before a crippling pain explodes in your head and you fall to the ground. 

Through a daze, you hear chaos erupt. You hear bullets, shouting, curses in Italian. Strong hands grab you and roughly pull you over their shoulder. You try to speak, to scream for help, but your mouth won’t open. Vision blurred, you can barely register moving onto the street, the gravel swirling beneath you. You feel the breath leave your lungs with an incredible force as you’re suddenly thrown into the truck, slamming against the hardwood. Your lips part to gasp, but no sound comes out. Like shooting stars, you see bullets fly through the material of the roof, hitting one of the goons in the head and narrowly missing another. They leave little holes of sunlight that catch the dust dancing in the air and the blood that sprays as another goon falls to his knees. You hear shouting and then suddenly you're moving, the truck speeding down the street leaving a trail of tire smoke and chaos. Distantly you think you can hear your name being called, but as you slip deeper into the abyss, you can only think of two things. Tommy. Our baby. 

---

Tommy’s exhausted. He’s nearly falling asleep behind the wheel as he drives back to Salieri’s, Paulie near passed out beside him. It’d been a long day. The two had traveled early in the morning last night out of the city to one of Morello’s farms, awaiting the arrival of one of his most trusted associates. It was a simple job, all they needed to do was execute the guy and get out safe. But there’d been more soldiers than they anticipated and the target ended up escaping leading to a long car chase. Lack of sleep and general tiredness we’re barraging Tommy like a ton of bricks. All he wanted now was to just head home with you and fall asleep. He just desperately hoped you were already done with work. 

As he pulls onto home turf, he’s relatively lax until he begins driving down the road leading to the bar. He spots the shattered glass on the street first, stained red with the blood of the men and women littered like flies across the gravel. When he notices some of the bodies wearing the uniform-like suits of his enemies, his foot slams on the break without a second thought. Paulie flies into the dashboard, yelling gibberish as he looks around disoriented for a few seconds until his eyes settle on Tommy’s pale face. 

“What they hell was that?!” His best friend doesn’t answer though. Instead his hands frantically find the handle on the door, pushing it open quickly and jumping out into the street. Paulie looks at him confused for a second until he looks forward at the road, all colour draining from his face as he witnesses the carnage in front of him. He’s quick to follow his best pa as he runs towards the bar. 

Tommy can barely think. Unfiltered thoughts are running rampant in his head, clouding his rationality. The only thing he can focus on is you. Checking your okay. Keeping you safe. He pumps his arms faster as he runs round the back and enters the bar, ignoring the guard’s shouts and Paulie’s frantic nonsensical questions to them.

When he bursts into the meeting room, effectively silencing everyone in there, his eyes only focus on one thing- finding you. As he scans every face, each one growing progressively more sympathetic and worried, he can barely stop himself from passing out. Finally, he lands on the final person in the room and it’s not you. 

“Boss. I-I… Wh-Where is she?” His words sound surprisingly calm even to him. He can see Sarah walking closer to him, hands outstretched in comfort, feel the weight of Paulie at his back as he finally arrives. Still he can only focus on you.“Tom, I-”

“Where is she?!” There’s a pause. It lasts only a second, but it feels like a lifetime of agony. 

“She’s been taken Tom.”

His breath rushes out his lungs. His knees buckle. All he can hear for a moment is his pounding heartbeat in his head. He can feel Sarah grab his arm, feel the weight of Paulie’s hand on his back. Sam appears out of the corner of his eye, his hand rising to rest on his shoulder. His family are around him, comforting him- but he feels nothing. Because you aren’t here. 

He barely recognises the gruff, raspy sound of his own voice as he grates “Where?”

“Some of our boys followed them to the docks. We’re going to lay waste to it tonight. Trust me Tom, there won’t be a single recognisable man left alive in that building.” Salieri’s words strike through the fog clouding Tommy’s mind. He feels his blood boil, his heart pounding like a war drum. Tommy has never been an overly violent man. But just this once… just this once - He’s going to kill every one of them for hurting you. 

---

Excruciating pain. It ricochets through your head, sears from your palms up your arms like red hot wildfire in your veins. Barely conscious, you flex your fingers in an attempt to escape the pain, the movement almost unrecognisable from the numbness that’s settled within your bones. Through slittled eyelids, you manage to look down. Two long, thin blades slice clean through the middle of your palm, impaling your hands to the sides of the wooden chair you’re sat in. Your blood gathers like a puddle at your feet, dripping down with maddening drops that echo around the small dark room. You can barely tell where you are, your vision too hazy to understand what’s around you. 

A sob bubbles in the back of your throat before bursting out of your mouth, the noise grated from the dryness of your throat. You feel like you might puke when you notice your dress has been ripped down the front, your undergarments thankfully intact but pulled tight and misshapen against your skin- someone had looked at you while you were unconscious. 

The small bump of your stomach, visible through the ripped fabric brings tears rushing out of your eyes, the pearly drops falling to drip down the slightly swollen skin. 

“Ah! Our guest is awake!”

Your head snaps up at the sudden noise, the force sending your vision into a disoriented mess once again. Through the stars in your eyes, you can just about make out the stark white suit in the doorway of the room, almost blinding in the low light. As he walks to stand in front of you, behind him red shadows from what you can only guess is a fire swathe him in a red glow. He looks like a demon masquerading as an angel, the flames seemingly curling around him in the haze of your vision. You know immediately that the man in front of you is Morello. 

Somehow, you muster up enough strength to spit at his feet. 

In response, his palm strikes against your cheek, the pain wrenching a gasp from your lungs. He’s suddenly there right in front of your face, your eyes forced to take in the sneer engraved into his skin as he growls at you. “Show some fucking respect!”

You take in a shuddering breath, but continue looking into his eyes through the haze of your tears and pain. 

“Fuck… You!” You manage to stutter out, refusing to let this coward scare you. Your smugness is only short lived as his fist flies into your stomach, the force hunching you over. Your hands pull at the blades and you scream at the burning pain as they dig deeper into your skin. 

Morello laughs above you, turning to look behind him. You hear other laughter and guess you’ve got an audience of his goons with you as well.

 “She’s all talk, no bite, ey boys?!” More laughter rings out, echoing in your head. You try to curl into yourself unconsciously, your legs trying to pull up, but they seem to be strapped to the legs of the chair. Almost hanging there, you hunch over limply, your hair now dangling down in front of your face. You can see Morello’s pristine white shoes swiftly turn back to you, the sudden action making you flinch. 

One of his hands suddenly wraps around your hair, pulling it tightly around his fist. Before you can even comprehend what’s happening, he’s pulling you up by the stands, forcing a scream from your lips. Your hands rise with you, ever so slightly rising up the blades. By Morello’s scoff, he’s not happy enough with how little you’ve moved as he wrenches you higher, the blades ripping through your flesh so the handles are pressed against your skin. In the silence of the room, your sobs echo, barely recognisable to your own ears. You refuse to open your eyes and give him the satisfaction of seeing your tears, so you squeeze them shut tightly. 

Morello growls again, his free hand striking against your cheek. You feel one of his rings cut clean through the skin, a scorching ache immediately settling deep into the skin. The slap forces your head unnaturally to the side, your hair and neck twisting painfully. It makes you yelp, gritting your teeth, but still you refuse to look at him. There’s silence for a few moments except for your heavy, shuddering breaths. Your ears become hyper aware, searching for any sound. They pick up the scruff of shoes coming towards you, the telltale sound of a blade being pulled from a sheath. When you feel the cold edge of the metal press against your stomach, your eyes fly open to see Morello’s face right in front of you, a smug look in the deep pits of his irises. 

“We’re gonna have a nice chat dollface. If you are corporate, I might just let you live. If not… Well, let’s just say you and this baby won’t ever see daylight again.” 

You try to nod against his hand, which tightens in your hair, not trusting your voice to say anything back to him. He smiles, an expression so vile and haunted, you feel sick at the sight of it.

“Good!” Without warning, he releases your hair, the strands falling through his fingers quickly as your body limply falls back in the seat. Your palms sink down the blades only half way, leaving them propped up unnaturally.  Helplessly, your body twitches away from the pain, making it worse as you tug at the blades. You can see Morello’s smile deepen above you, his eyes darkening in the dim light with a hidden evil. Unconsciously, you shrink back from him as he shouts to the soldiers. “Hang her up boys. It’s time we get properly acquainted.” 

---

“Jesus Christ Tom, would you stop fidgetin’, you’re shakin’ the car!” 

Paulie’s words barely register in Tommy’s head. He hasn't been able to stop moving all day, constantly fiddling with his cigarettes or scanning over the maps of the city. By the time it came to leave, Sam stepped in to drive, knowing his friend was too distracted with fear to get them to the docks safely. But truth be told, they were all out of their minds with worry. Tommy’s leg was bouncing nonstop, his hand twitching every so often over the Lupara in his lap. Paulie hadn’t stopped talking since they’d got in the car, needing to fill the silence so he wasn’t just trapped with his thoughts. Sam was quiet and contemplating like usual, but as Tommy looked at him out of the corner of his eye, he could see his partner nervously tapping his fingers against the wheel, his mind a million miles away. 

As they cross through the Works Quarter, the convoy of soldiers behind them sticking close, Tommy feels sweat bead on his brow just looking at their approaching location. He isn’t worried about the goons, he’d killed enough of them to know nothing was gonna stop him from getting to you. The thought of pickin’ such a big fight with Morello didn’t scare him either. No, he was only terrified of what’s happened to you. 

All day, his mind has plagued him with images of his enemy’s victims, bloodied and beaten to a pulp. He couldn’t stop the thoughts of you flashing before his eyes, hurt and in pain. Just from thinking about it now, he can feel his heart nearly beating through his chest, his blood sizzling in his veins. God help anyone who gets in his way, because he wasn’t giving any mercy tonight.

“We’re here.” Sam’s voice cuts through Tommy’s thoughts. Immediately, the atmosphere in the car changes, determination and anger filling the air so quickly it nearly gives Tommy whiplash. Behind him, Paulie primes his gun, passing one to Sam who stares ahead, eyes focused. 

Looking down, Tommy picks up his own gun, cocking the trigger. He feels the eyes of his closest friends on him, their hands both coming to rest on his arm. 

“We doin’ this?” Paulie whispers. A deep shuddering breath. “Yeah.” And so they go... Into the valley of death. 

---

You don’t know how much time has passed. As you drift between unconsciousness and awake, all you can do is look down at your stomach through the glaze of tears in your eyes. Morello was true to his word, not laying at hand on your baby. The same can’t be said for you. 

Your arms are utterly destroyed, red raw from the damp ropes used to hang you from the celing. Tracks of blood streak from the holes in your palms like dark rain, now impaled once more in the wooden chair you first woke up in. You hunch limply, too exhausted to hold you weight. 

After Morello’s soldiers had strung you up, your feet absent of shoes just slightly hanging above the floor, they’d left you alone for some time, just standing there watching you. Morello had sat to the side, smoking a cigar like it was the most normal thing in the world. He read the paper while you swung in the wind, whimpering every so often from the ache of the rope against your skin. The soldiers would laugh quietly, staring at your exposed flesh as you dangled there like a doll. You felt like a piece of meat. 

Eventually, Morello put out his cigar and folded up his paper, throwing it on the table with a huff. He picked up knuckle dusters, slipping them on in full view of you and flexed his fingers with an expressionless face. After a beat, he looked up at you and smirked seeing the fear in your eyes. 

For what must have been only an hour, yet felt like years, Morello played with your body like a rag doll. He’d asked you incomprehensible questions, growing furious when you didn’t know how to answer. Using those deadly brass knuckles he’d inflicted hit after hit on your face, just above your stomach, anywhere that wasn’t where your little baby grew. He grew tired of hitting you quickly, changing his weapon of choice to a long knife. 

In long, drawn out strokes, he had traced it along your body, digging in deeper to leave long open wounds in areas he knew were most sensitive. As he traced you, Morello’s hand had eventually started following, touching you where only your husband had touched before. You’d tried to arch away from him, twisting in the rope, but it was no use. He touched you more… and laughed when you sobbed. 

You desensitized yourself to the pain eventually, thinking of an old memory with Tommy with every slice and hit. When you first met and how nervous he was, nothing like the ladykillers Sam or Paulie are. You’re first kiss, under a starry sky after he’d taken you for a romantic meal. The night you gave yourself to him fully, awake till the early hours of the morning in his arms. Watching him sleep after a long day's work, holding you close, always protecting you. As you swung there, you’d imagined what Tommy was doing knowing you were missing. He was no doubt going crazy, you knew your entire family would be. It brought a smile to your blood stained lips to remember just how loved you were. Salieri, the father you never knew. Sam and Paulie, the brothers you always wanted. Sarah, the close sister you could always depend on. The family, an open armed hug of warmth, ready to keep you safe. And Tommy… the man you were lucky enough to call your husband. 

It brought more tears to your eyes as you sat alone now, worried about the future. You couldn’t remember how you got back here, you’d blacked out eventually after hanging up for so long. You’d woken up not so long ago, your whole body numb and aching. Everytime you swallowed, you could taste the blood from the wounds on your face, providing little moisture to your dry mouth. Your face has to be swollen, your eyes no doubt black and bruised. It feels like you have weights attached to them, pulling down your eyelids. You begin to lose strength to keep them open and let them shut, focusing on your breathing to keep you awake. 

In your mind, you travel back to a calmer time, when there was no war. You imagine sitting down at a table in the bar, gossiping with Sarah. The boys enter the room, Paulie and Sam noticing you first and coming towards you to leave kisses on your forehead. Then Tommy appears, smiling wide. He leans down and presses a gentle kiss on your lips, retreating slightly to command “Scootch”. You laugh, but get up, so he can take your place and pull you into his lap. His breath tickles your ear as he whispers your name. Only, when you really listen, he isn’t whispering at all. It sounds like he’s shouting actually.

You grow confused, your daydream evaporating like a pile of ash in the wind. But still you can hear Tommy, shouting your name. 

“Y/N! Darlin’ where are you!”

Your eyes shoot open, looking around manically. There’s no one else in the room. For a second, you lose hope, guessing your mind is playing tricks on you. But then again. A shout, echoing and loud. You hear other voices, ones you know so well. “Y/N, where the hell are you?!” Paulie’s voice. You can hear Sam’s too, strong but panicked. 

They’re here. 

“Tommy...” You try to shout, but your voice is quiet, grated because of your dry mouth. You try again, but it barely echos around the room you're in now. Panic and hope sets in, pushing you to shout louder. You need them, you need Tommy to find you.

“Tommy!” You can’t say anything else, you just keep screaming his name. Through your shouting, you can hear the voices get closer, hear the worry in their voices. The sound of heavy footsteps against a wet floor gets closer and then suddenly the door of the room swings open, light blinding you for a second. But then a figure appears in the doorway, a body you recognise in an instant. On a sob, you breathlessly whimper “Tommy.”

He’s running towards you straight away, collapsing to his knees right in front of you. His hands reach up to your face, cupping you as gently as possible. You sob louder, tears running uncontrollably down your cheeks in red stained streams. Tommy catches some of them gently, his eyes filling up as he breathes heavily. You hear two other pairs of feet enter the room and stop short. You look up and see Sam and Paulie, mouths open in horror at the sight of you so broken. The former, a man you know to rarely show any emotion, actually sheds some tears, his gun dropping beside him. 

Your eyes fall back to Tommy and you begin laughing lightly in relief through your tears. “You’re here… You found me…”

Tommy smiles yet his face is full of pain, hurting for you. “Yeah darlin’... W-we got ya.” 

For a moment, you just stare into each other's eyes, lost in the feeling of being reunited. Relief that Tommy’s here. Relief that you’re alive. Sam appearing like a shadow at your husband’s back breaks you both from your reverie. You look up at him but his eyes are glued to your hands, his face emotionalness except for the tears leaking from his eyes. Paulie’s grief stricken face appears next to him, a small sob leaving his lips when he sees your hands too. 

“Tom… We-we need to get her to the doc. Her ha-hands…” Sam barely gets the words out, breathing heavily. Tommy’s eyes move from your face, taking in the sight of your palms impaled on the blades. His face fills with anger, his teeth gritting violently. “Those bastards!”

Somehow they all move as one, Paulie going behind the chair and gently pulling you back so he can gently wrap his arms around your shoulders to keep you still. Sam and Tommy each move to a hand, their hands gripping the handles of the blades tightly. You know what’s going to happen, but you can’t help the look of fear that crosses your face at the thought of them being ripped out again. Your husband notices and a few more tears slip down from his eyes, dropping onto your hand when they slowly slip into the open wound. 

“I’m so sorry for this darlin’.” Then together with Sam, he pulls out the blades. You scream, so loud and harshly, you see black for a second. 

“We need to stop the bleedin’!” Sam’s shouting brings you back into consciousness. You open your eyes to see them quickly wrapping their belts around your hands, cloth from the shirts trapped beneath to stop the blood spurting out. They quickly move onto your legs after, untying them. Once they're free, Paulie’s hands slip from your neck and Tommy replaces them, his arms wrapping around you back after he takes off his long coat. 

Slowly, with the help of Sam, he lifts you up, taking your weight as Paulie quickly wraps your husband’s coat around you. It’s oversized on you and envelops you like a warm hug, his scent calming you. You can barely stand up, so Tommy picks you up in his arms as soon as you’re covered, already heading for the door as he pulls you tight against his chest. Looking over his shoulder, you can see Sam and Paulie follow close behind, their faces worried and focused on you. 

As you all leave the room, you can see now you’re in some kind of warehouse. You can also see the battle that your family have just had to fight to get to you. There are bodies littered everywhere. Thankfully, there’s more of Morello’s men than your family. Just before you leave the building, a body catches your eye. Though it’s not as blinding as it was before, you can still recognize Morello’s white suit which is now covered in ash, his body burnt and punctured with multiple bullets. It settles some peace in your heart knowing he won’t be able to hurt you or anyone else you care for anymore. 

As you step outside into the night sky, the smell of the ocean assaults your scenes. You know immediately that you’re at the docks, not even 10 minutes away from the bar. Salieri’s soldiers are stood around everywhere, helping some injured men and celebrating the end of this war with those still standing. They all go silent when they see you cradled in Tommy’s arms, barely recognisable with all the blood, bruises and swelling. You hear Sam yell at them, only making out him telling them to “make tracks”, before your husband is climbing into the back of a car, keeping you clutched tightly in his arms. Paulie jumps into the passenger side, turning round almost immediately to check up on you. 

“How ya doin’ Y/N? We’re gonna take you to the doc, just hang tight.” He passes Tommy a handkerchief as Sam gets into the driver's seat. He quickly stars the car and drives off, titling the mirror towards you to check you’re alright as well. It warms your heart to see your closest family so worried about you. You curl deeper into Tommy’s chest as he begins gently wiping away the blood around your lips, his breathing heavy and shuddering. Even in your weak state, you still ache to comfort him, you hand rising to stroke against his cheek. It’s a featherlike touch, leaving some residue of blood from the gaping wound in your palm, but your husband curls into your hand nonetheless, his face so full of pained relief. 

“I’m gonna be okay Tommy. I gotta be for our ba-” 

You slip into unconsciousness before you can finish, catching sight of his eyes widening in surprise before your own close fully. 

---

You look so peaceful as you sleep. It’s something Tommy has noticed before, but as he sits beside you in the Doc’s home surgery, slowly brushing his fingers through the hair, it’s something he’s glad for after the horrors you’ve just been through. He still doesn’t know exactly what’s happened yet, but he can see just from the trauma that’s been inflicted on your body that it wasn’t easy. In that moment, he’s glad he was the one to kill Morello, painfully slow. He would’ve drawn it out more if he had the chance, but his instinct to find you was overpowering him. 

He was right to be so worried. Tommy doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to get the sight of you in that godforsaken chair out of his head. The blood, the wounds, the sounds of your sobs- he shudders, shaking his head. As soon as the four of them had arrived at the Doc’s house, who was ready and waiting with a nurse for backup, it’d be a blur for Tommy. He’d stood helplessly at the foot of the surgical bed, watching the nurse clean you. With every cut and bruise that was revealed, he felt his heart grow tighter, his hands shaking uncontrollably. When the Doc moved onto your hands, announcing he’d have to do surgery on them to try and close the wounds, Tommy had nearly passed out. Sam and Paulie both had to drag him away, thrusting a bottle of whisky into his hands to settle his nerves. 

For hours, they all sat together, silent except for the occasional sound of liquid sloshing in a bottle as one of them took a drink. The housemaid came in at one point, putting on some slow music to rid the space of the stifling silence. She left a bowl of water for them each with a cloth to wipe away the blood on the skin. Tommy didn’t move at first, too wrapped up in his thoughts. It wasn’t until Paulie pointed out the droplets of blood and the smudge you’d left after you’d caressed his cheek earlier that he finally moved to wash it away. Salieri had called at some point asking about you and the fate of Morello. It was a quick call, but the message was portrayed quickly. The crime boss had made you suffer, so the boys made sure the favour was returned. After that, they all returned back to silence, plagued with worry for you. Tommy was busy overthinking what you had said to him before you passed out. He was too scared to believe it to what his mind was telling him to be true. He wanted to know you were okay first… he needed it. 

Finally, the Doc had come into the room, announcing that you would be alright. Your wounds were severe but with a lot of rest and luck, hopefully your body would heal. There would be scars of course, something that made the boys all hang their heads in sadness, but you were alive. And that’s all that mattered. 

Tommy’s brought back to the present when he feels you tug slightly as his hand which tightly clutches your own. He leans closer to you, lightly whispering your name on a raspy breath. 

“Y/N, darlin’. I’m here, open up those pretty eyes.” You tug harder at his hand, your face turning towards the sound of his voice. You slowly open them, as much as you can with the bruising and swelling. Your eyes find him immediately. Tommy smiles, laughing throatilty in relief. He leans down, placing a long kiss on your bandaged palm, smiling wider when your fingers flex against his face. 

“Hi…” You whisper, your voice raspy. Tommy grabs a glass of water and helps you take small sips, supporting your head with his hand. Your eyes, though half shut, gaze at him with so much love, he feels his heart pound against his ribcage. After he’s placed the glass down, he hears you gasp quietly, his head whipping round to see if you're okay. He calms down when he sees you’ve just spotted Sam and Paulie, hunched together asleep on the couch. It looks quite humorous as the former lies head back, collapsed essentially between the pillows. Paulie lies with his head against Sam’s arms, his mouth opening dribbling onto Sam’s expensive suit. 

“They stayed?” Tommy can hear the tears in your voice, the love you have for your chosen brothers seeping into the words. He squeezes your fingers gently instead of your hand, cautious of hurting you more. Your head swings back to his and you smile at him, tears slipping down your cheeks. “You stayed?”

He huffs as if it’s the most silly question in the world. Tommy holds your hand against his cheek as he rasps “Course we stayed- we ain’t goin’ anywhere darling. We were so worried ‘bout you, we ain’t gonna leave you for years at this rate.” You laugh lightly, the sound like music to his ears. 

“I don’t know what that bastard did to ya. If you don’t ever want to tell me, that’s fine too. But know this darlin’- I ain’t goin’ anywhere. You’re my girl, this all happened just because your mine. So I’m gonna love you hard for the rest of my life, because I nearly lost you today… and I ain’t gonna waste a minute more. Not with you… or our kid.”

You let out a sob at his words, tears falling harder now as his hand moves to your stomach rubbing gently. 

“I-I was gonna tell you t-today. Tommy, I was leavin’ the doctors when they took me. I’d just found out, I-”

“I know, darlin’, I know. I should’a been there with you. I’m here with you now though. And I ain’t ever leavin’ you again. No one’s gonna hurt my family anymore.” He places a kiss on your palm again, moving to your stomach to gently place one there too. Your free hand slowly moves to his hair, stroking through it slightly just like you do every night. 

“Come to bed Tommy. We both need some rest.” He can’t resist you. After taking off his shoes and leaving his jacket draped over a chair, he climbs in beside you, carefully maneuvering himself so he can take you into his arms. For once, he’s gonna be the one to stroke your hair as you fall asleep, praying to every god to keep you safe. As his eyes begin to shut and he slips deep into his own slumber, his hand pressed against your stomach, he dreams only of his family and the home you’re both gonna create. 

-----

A/N: Thanks for reading minxies. Sorry the ending is kinda meh. I really hoped you’ve all enjoyed though, I feel like this is one of the best things I’ve ever written. 

(Unedited)

#mafia 1 #mafia #mafia remake #mafia definitive edition #tommy angelo #tommy angelo x reader #TommyHoes #sam trapani #paulie lombardo #writtenbyme

[alienisticxo]

X Angel - Chapter Two

Elon Musk x Reader

{Authors Note} Thanks to some encouragement on AO3 I will be continuing this strange little story. So if you happen to come across it, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: An uncomfortable instance.

Bright white camera bulbs flashed in every direction, the shrill ringing of screams filling my ears until I couldn’t hear myself think anymore. I was blinded by the light that flooded with every rapid click, snapping away at my every move as I exited the Cybertruck I’d been driven in. I was already fashionably late to a discreet -or maybe not so, now- meeting set up by the head representatives of my record label, Astra Records. My manager had decided to tip off the media, and my publicist decided to make it an event without it exactly being one.

It was a complex task, staring into those brazen flashes without so much as a flinch, but that was what was required of me. That was my job and life’s mission for as long as I held the position I did. The ‘drugged out’ smile I was known for never faltered as the flawless chrome of my body reflected every photographer's shining glamor shot right back into their lenses. Despite being surrounded by personnel, security and otherwise, people still clawed and clamored their way forward in an attempt to invade my space as I walked toward the large building before me.

“{Y/N}, over here!” one yelled.

“Give us a wink, will ya?” yelled another.

“I’d fucking die for you!” a shriek made itself heard over everyone else in the roaring crowd.

I just smiled and continued to trek, my {H/C} hair drifting around my face and behind me. I concentrated on my gait, my posture, the way my expression felt as I stepped past my adoring audience.

One misstep and it’s all over, of course.

Occasionally I thought about what a strange thing fame was. People would die or kill for you, just to see you or speak to you. We were all the same, deep down. No matter the wiring or blood that ran under our skin, or chrome. The only ones who seemed to place others on pedestals for no true reason other than a little talent that thousands of others had and would never get the chance to share, were other lifeforms. What really made someone want to know me more than another being who can do the same things, maybe even better? The only difference between myself and someone who possessed the same talents was that no one except the other party’s close circle of friends and family knew of their capabilities. We did it to ourselves, really. If only everyone were looked at the same way.

My security guards pushed against me then, catching me off guard in a crucial moment that could’ve been dangerous for me in more ways than one. They were blocking a rogue fan who’d been dying to ‘feel me.’

I tensed up in the absolute slightest manner as I followed Jett, my manager, into the tall metallic building that was made up of glass, but reflected the entire city skyline on its exterior, catching the neon glow, Saturn and the twinkling stars above with it. Privacy was a must, of course. Being able to see out but not being able to see in was imminent for any corporation’s design. The large double doors that disappeared with a glitch as we approached, reappeared behind us as we stepped further into the lobby of Astra Records. The noise of the rowdy crowd just beyond the front steps of the building sounded as though it was sucked back outside and muffled, like someone had put a lid over the heaps of people screaming my name.

“You’d think they wouldn’t need those old school cameras anymore,” I commented, the exasperation in my voice clear as I relaxed a bit more from escaping the masses, disappearing deeper into the lobby until the sound was no longer audible at all.

“{Y/N}, how else are they going to send the pictures back to Earth?” Jett asked me, a hint of condescension in his tone before pausing.

“People sure are different here aren’t they? They worship you celebrities like gods, worse than little fangirls back on Earth.”

I stared ahead, continuing my trek to the teleportation pad without entertaining his thoughts.

“Fuck, I’m in the wrong business,” he continued in slight disbelief to himself. “Maybe I’ll figure out how to go chrome and become a star instead of managing all you shitheads,” he joked snidely, a nasty grin on his metal-grilled teeth as he turned his head over his shoulder to look at me.

Jett had come to X from Earth after having no luck finding any clients to manage once the great exodus of the rich and famous began. Places like Los Angeles, New York City, London and Tokyo had already been cut throat with the industry players. Once everything fell out, no one trusted a soul to handle their affairs anymore.

It wasn’t hard to see that Jett wasn’t exactly a clean cut looking person to begin with, either.

It was my luck I’d be stuck with him at Astra, but I knew in all aspects I was just that— lucky. I didn’t complain. How could I?

However, as he put it, he hitched a ride on the next flight out and got to work right away with the record label. It was just that easy, and he was just that good.

Sure.

“It doesn’t work like that,” I finally responded in a flat tone to his statement, my eyes scanning the confines of the space as we stood a few feet from the pad. Jett pulled the oversized and black-reflective shades from his eyes then, turning his body to look at me. He lecherously stepped closer before running his -what I assumed to be- warm fingers down the side of my cold cheek slowly, his eyes raking up and down my frame. My jaw clenched unbeknownst to him, and I kept my gaze straight ahead.

“You are a sweet design, I’ll give them that… If it weren’t for security on your ass all the time…”

His eyes moved to the front doors in the near distance behind me as my security team approached us from their previous position handling the crowd, and with that, he let out an abrupt howl, snapping his fingers against the palm of his hand and turning back to lead me upstairs with a cocky gait.

It was moments like that that made my stomach churn. I had to deal with the disgusting remarks and actions, to take them like a champ without even indicating that I acknowledged them at all.

If I did, it was my life on the line.

I was just glad that was the extent of it from him. Even more grateful that that was the extent of it from anyone.

With a silent exhale, and no outward show of disapproval, I swiftly followed behind him onto the teleportation device, ignoring everything he’d said like it simply never happened. With one quick scan of our bodies, as fast as I blinked my {E/C} eyes, we were standing outside of the boardroom I’d only seen twice before. Once to meet the representatives, and the last time to sign myself away to them. As my security team entered next, I searched my surroundings again. The whole floor, who’s exterior wall overlooked another angle of Drax City and a beautiful moon above it, felt familiar as I caught sight of the usual decor. It was dark save for the neon buzzed along the walls, palm trees that were coated in a glittery powder that grew on the leaves as per a new gardening experiment sat in pots in corners next to chrome coated lounge couches and translucent coffee tables. A muted holographic television screen played Astra’s channel on it against a wall, and I saw myself there, giving the last corrupt public service announcement that the Planet X Space Association worked with the label for so long and so hard to have me release to the masses. PXSA was our form of government and space flight. An odd combination, but one nonetheless. I didn’t necessarily believe in the things they forced me to read aloud; fill the heads of the unwise and naive with. But the check was nice, and I was in no position to decline their wishes.

The large area was cast in purple, blue and pink light as nostalgic pinball machines blinked from a short distance away, offering a “glimpse into the past.” Another client, brand new, sat on a couch and played a video game through the latest virtual reality headset, the images they saw being cast across another holographic screen while they waited. It was all very pretty, really, very modern and yet fantastical as I had remembered it from before. But despite the ethereal atmosphere, I still felt uneasy.

I had no idea who I was meeting and what I was meeting them for this time. No one ever seemed to feel the need to tell me much of anything when it came to business affairs. I was told where to go, I showed up on schedule or a little late, and I did what I had to do as I learned what that was upon arrival. The rest was simply code and programming to the people who ran my life; there was no room for error, and I had to learn fast and according to the individual's expectations of me-- or better. I followed Jett down the long purple hued hallway just off of the lounge area, his sleazy demeanor seeping from his pores as he stalked his way to another pair of double doors and stopped as it scanned his body. He looked back over his shoulder at me once more with a smirk before turning and walking through them dramatically, announcing my presence as though I were some prized show pony come to a town where nothing ever happened.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the one, the only, Drax City’s own, {Y/F/N}... {Y/L/N}!”

That was my cue.

He stepped aside, his hands reaching out and over to exhibit my presence once I made my way through the doors behind him and stopped in my tracks, my heels still seeming to echo through the large room. Holding my head up high -chin slightly in the air like the small, but statuesque figure I was- was expected from me. And as I held my position, I immediately noticed eleven pairs of eyes sitting around an iridescent boardroom table that were set on nothing other than me as they quickly and quietly gasped and gawked.

“Her figure, the quality,” one drew out.

“I didn’t expect her to be so… so lifelike, in person,” said another.

“Oh yeah, she’s a real beauty,” said Jett, stepping around me then, his hand tightening around the metallic surface of my waist before raking through my hair as though I were a child’s doll. “X hasn’t seen a model like this… Ever. She’s the most famous pop star on our planet— They can’t get enough, eat her up like candy. That’s why she doesn’t come cheap, boys.”

He patted my side then, making me feel like a used car being sold by a greaseball salesman.

That caught my attention, though. My head turned just a hair, but I caught myself before anyone could realize my reaction. I ground my teeth, trying to compose myself through the abrupt shock I was facing. Quickly fixating my line of sight on a neon lamp in the shape of a star that burned in the corner, I desperately attempted to hold my composure. My ears seemed to have failed me however, my thoughts taking front and center as the men briefly discussed things amongst themselves.

Are they going to sell me? To who? Why?

“Oh, we know all about her on Earth. That’s why we want her. We can imagine she’s a planetary treasure here on X, but she’s interplanetary. Labels, execs, people, would just kill to get their hands on her,” one man said, looking at me with a fever in his eye. I guessed he might’ve been the catalyst for my… purchase. The word tasted bitter on my tongue even as a mere thought.

“They’d listen to anything she tells them to do.”

Jett smirked, lifting a shoulder and asserting dominance in his own way.

“She goes to the highest bidder,” he responded blatantly. “And none of this ‘cash’ bullshit. She’s obviously makin’ us a lotta crypto. No one else can afford her. That’s why she’s still with us here at Astra.”

I allowed myself to slowly absorb the situation, then. Astra was trying to deal me away to Earth, the very place I’d almost died trying to escape, all for monetary gain. It wasn’t unheard of, stars being sent to Earth and even back again, but I was X’s golden girl. Or maybe chrome…

They needed me. More than they thought, I now realized. They couldn’t replace me.

Or maybe I was the one mistaken, maybe they could.

As my eyes scanned the area, I also noticed the nature of the collective individuals that sat before me. All in black and gray pressed suits, all male. They’d come here solely to make a deal, an offer Astra couldn’t refuse, and they weren’t leaving without a signed contract, empty pockets, and my life. Fight or flight kicked in, hitting me like a brick, but I couldn’t react. Everything was in slow motion, and it was killing me from the inside out, not being able to protest. It wasn’t in my nature, but I had to play ball now, and well.

One of the suited men stood up from a chair that floated behind the iridescent glazed table, which I now noticed held the reflection of the cityscape that could be seen through the windowed exterior wall as well. He walked over to me with a drilling stare, his stride confident and assertive.

“And this is 100% cybernetic?” He asked Jett, as though I weren’t even in the room.

“Yes,” he spat incredulously.

“What model is she? From who?”

The man stood before me, eyeing me from top to bottom. I wanted to scream.

“That’s the thing,” Jett began again, moving to lean against the table. “We don’t know. She was left at our doors with a letter to the CEO, like some orphaned child. Said she had no recollection of anything other than her programming. We’re lucky her programming was to be a singer,” he finished with a snide grin.

The man snorted then. The tale was unbelievable, sure, but they had no choice but to believe it. There was simply no other excuse for me. A.I. was common, but I was as human as they were going to get, at least for the foreseeable future. That alone made me quite the commodity, something to be revered by other corporations, enterprises and record labels who needed a workhorse without the demands of humans. People saw themselves in me, they felt they could relate, or become just like me someday. This kept them eating out of the palm of whoever’s hand I spoke for and persuaded them to.

Still, the way my mind worked was not the same way as other A.I. beings. I had real demands in order to work, not lifting a finger otherwise, and I made sure they learned this once it was too late— once they couldn’t let me go anymore.

Unless you had enough crypto, apparently.

The older man examined what he could of my body with no regard for my own thoughts on the matter, looking everywhere for any indication of a branding or a code. His brow furrowed when he found none.

“Who are you?” he asked me then, seeming quite perplexed.

“{Y/N},” I smiled. “Drax City’s very own.”

“Where are you from?”

“Planet X, sir. Made and programmed. It’d be an honor to work with you and your people,” I lied. “This city gets kind of boring when you’ve done it all,” I finished exasperatedly.

“Very realistic,” he commented to Jett, his eyes still studying my face. “A.I. just keeps getting better and better. This is incredible. She’s so… human.”

“Did you think we were fuckin’ lying to you? I’m sure you’ve seen her all over TV, she might as well be a person. She thinks, she feels. Hell, I think I’ve seen her cry before,” he said, taking an apple that sat untouched and forever ripe from a bowl on the table. “And she doesn’t even rust.”

They conversed between each other then, deciding my fate with nothing more than cryptocurrency hanging between us. I wasn’t listening anymore, maybe it was a coping mechanism. I just couldn’t wrap my mind around the notion that they would just sell me away to Earth. Maybe I just didn’t want to think they would. They used me for everything they did, advertisements, sold out shows, records— even virtual reality experiences. They made crypto over crypto, dollars upon dollars, thanks to cutting government deals as long as I told everyone to listen. I showed up to every event, knew everyone who was anyone, and then a few more people. If they needed something, I’d do it. If I needed something, they’d do it. That’s just how this worked.

Until now.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when a man standing near the corner closest to the window that I hadn’t noticed before, finally spoke up.

The lights from the city beyond cast a glow over his features, mixing with the neon that lit up the room itself. I knew exactly who he was the moment my attention turned to him, not only by his face, but by his deep voice as well.

Attractive, tall, dark haired and with a presence that could command a room despite the quirkiness that he was often known for, it took everything in me to keep from going slackjawed and wide-eyed. His eccentricities were a staple of his personality, and enigmatic wasn't a word enough to describe him and the aura that surrounded him. Anyone would’ve recognized the man, no matter where they hailed from, and yet, his presence certainly caught me off guard. He was even better than the photos.

He was Elon Musk.

Elon was one of Earth’s most influential people, if not the most influential person. But on X, there was a mixed opinion of him that wasn’t exactly warranted. Though he had helped humans become an interplanetary species, among so many other things, as artificial intelligence became more prevalent, it began to turn on its creators. This caused quite a rift between the cyber world and the human world, lending more firepower behind the crime that had already begun to lace the streets due to the advancement that kept average people struggling to make ends meet and survive in the new world.

Elon was blamed for the downfall despite the warnings he’d cautioned the public with for years. It wasn’t until Neuralink was released to the public for use that humanity began to appreciate him again on a grander scale. He seemed to single handedly salvage humanity, curing medical issues that otherwise had no solution, allowing humans to live for much longer with far better quality of life. Of course, until Earth fell apart again.

Planet X, though, was built on technology; on futuristic ways of existing that he himself had paved the way for, thus causing its inhabitants to maintain far less respect for him. To Xians, futurism was par for the course. Elon wasn’t special there anymore. They ate advanced technology and cybernetics for breakfast, and spat it out into something better for lunch.

But to me, he was still a hero. Though we’d never so much as come close to each other, he had never let me down before. From electric vehicles to space travel, to underground tunnels and mock flamethrowers, his creative and profound mind was something I’d always admired from the moment I learned of his existence.

He had his share of blunders like much everyone else, but overall, I knew he was a decent man. No one had ever made it their life’s mission to help humanity on such a large scale with the capability he had, especially in some of the worst times of what we knew to be Earth’s existence. He valued helping humanity, and he was always honest about doing so. Elon Musk’s intelligence was beyond comprehension, in a way that made anyone want to sit down and pick his brain. And, well, he had a sense of humor on top of it all that made him feel more real than the idea of him even seemed.  

I wasn’t sure what to think of him on a personal level, most people had good things to say, others horror stories. I never thought about it too much or imagined him to be any kind of way, not wanting to tarnish any of the admiration I already had for him. I never expected to meet the man himself despite my position in the galaxy. I was a star, but he was far beyond me. Deep down though, I just hoped he was kind, nice; even if they say to never meet your heroes, because they’re usually quite the opposite.

It took every ounce of control to remain the composed little package they all expected me to be in the moment.

“I’d like to see her on my own,” he stated, every head in the room turning to face him as he did so.

#elon musk #elon musk x reader #elon musk fanfiction #fanfiction #elon musk fanfic #spacex #cyberpunk #fanfic #darklydreaming #x angel #writers #slow burn #fanfic writer

[bagels-and-seagulls]

YO I cant believe you put this in to my head and dont give it to me "just filthy fucking rich david who is a ruthless business man with a horrific reputation"

god i really made that post saying i wasn’t going to write those just to write them, huh? anyways, i went slightly feral when writing that sentence, so i’ll play ball, anon. i’ll play.

-david becomes a millionaire by the time he was 23 with the help of graduating early, well-placed investments, and a level of spite that kept him coming in earlier than anyone else, staying later, and making the best reports. and, oh yeah, an uncle who was a cfo of a banking company with their offices downtown. through a take no prisoners attitude and a heaping dose of nepotism with a side of not really being in the business to make friends, he becomes the ceo of an investment corporation by the time he’s 30. he’s in the business of making the rich richer and then keeping them there. people tell him that he’s got the morals of black hole, sucking the life out of everything it sees, and all he does is smile when he let’s them know they have an hour to pack up their office. he’ll be taking over their company now, thanks though. 

-david used to run through about three assistants a year before he met leonie, who went toe to toe with him on her very first day, keeping up better than he’s seen anyone ever do and dishing out an appropriate amount of salt to match his own, all with a tight smile and a very polite, sir, attached to the end. david hates to admit it, but she might be his only friend, at least besides his sister who doesn’t really like what he does and doesn’t come to his apartment because it was a little too flashy for her. david has a tendency of scaring everyone else away with frustrated huffs, annoyed scowls, and glares that said they better redo that report and fix those numbers by the time they leave here tonight, otherwise they might not have a job to come back to in the morning. he’s fairly notorious around all of the interns, all of the associates, all of the accounting managers even, in the financial district for being focused on the job to a fault, for having no people skills, none that are of use outside of a business meeting, for making that one intern cry that one time by pointing out the spelling mistakes in their presentation. 

-he’s leaving the office late one night, looking over some business notes that he had put off too long, and now it was dark outside, and a little bit sticky, like it was fixing to rain soon. he loosens his tie and slips off his jacket, trying to make his walk back to his apartment a little bit cooler when he sees a boy at the bus stop at the end of block digging through his pockets and patting down his jacket looking for something. the boy looks up, and david is glad that he loosened his tie because otherwise he thinks he might have overheated a little bit. 

-hey, sorry to bother you, man, but do you have some change to break this up? the boy asks when david gets in earshot and holds out a crumpled bill. i always catch the last bus out of this part of town and the driver gets pissed when i hand him anything paper. and david goes, uh, lemme check, and looks through his own stuff. here, he says, passing over some coins. oh sweet, thanks, the guy says and smiles, pressing the bill into david’s palm. i’m matteo, he says. david, he responds and tugs on his tie, and matteo smirks a little bit at him as he repeats, david. 

-david is used to people picking him up, pretty girls in tight dresses that hand him drinks and handsome boys in small shirts and smaller shorts that pass him their numbers with hearts over the the i’s, people who could see his watch and know he’s got money to spend. but he isn’t really used to random people on the street looking at him like he was something a little bit… interesting. 

-david was never one to be outdone. what’re you doing out so late then? he asks, tilting his head to the side and watching matteo’s eyes trace the line of his throat. the people around here are usually done and out by five. and matteo shrugs a little lazy, i run one of those snack stands in the middle of the quad. ya know coffee non-stop, sandwiches at lunch, not the best but quick enough for all these interns stressing to get back to their desks to just slave away again. what about you? one of the associates or something? matteo asks. yeah, david says and doesn’t really know why, or something. and matteo smiles at him, but curses under his breath when his bus pulls up to the stop. 

-he doesn’t want to say that he looked for matteo the next morning because that makes him seem a little bit desperate, a little bit like he had already fallen head over heels for a boy who smiled at him nice, but he does go up to matteo’s coffee stand to order a cup of coffee that he’s sure he’s going to have to swallow down, or maybe just pour in the sink. david, matteo smiles at him when he sees him in line, and the person he was serving turns around, takes one look at david, and spills his coffee down his shirt. 

-he tells himself he’s not going to make a habit out of it, but he ends up buying a shitty cup of coffee each morning, if only to chat with matteo for a few minutes and hear his latest complaint of the day. 

-they run into each other at the bus stop again, and matteo tells david he likes his tie, that it made his eyes look nice. and david, never one to be outdone, asks him if he wants to go to a little diner a couple of blocks away that stays open until the drunk crowd sobers up. matteo says yes. they both get burgers and split a shake, and matteo shakes his head when david goes to dip a fry in it. 

-they don’t call it dating, but it certainly feels like it when they see each other every morning, text silly messages through the day when they can, and go to dinner four nights a week to tiny little hole in the wall places that give big portions for short bills. 

-matteo kisses david on the cheek at the bus stop one night, and david blurts out, i gotta tell you something, before he can even really stop himself. and matteo takes a step back, like maybe he read this whole thing wrong, and david wants to wrap his fingers around matteo’s wrist to pull him in close again. i’m… i’m trans, he says, and matteo blinks. oh, okay, that’s chill, he says like he was relieved. yeah? david asks, feeling like he had more to get off his chest, like he couldn’t really be relieved himself, not yet. yeah, matteo says and smiles at him. can i kiss you? david asks because otherwise he was going to spill his guts out onto the street, and matteo smiles and steps in close. 

-the next morning, david goes up to the snack stand, feeling tingly down to his toes, and when he sees matteo, sees him glaring at him with something stony in his eyes, clutching a newspaper in his hand and leaning up against the counter, he almost stops right there and turn around to try and find his way back to yesterday. just an associate or something? matteo asks and throws down the front of the business section of the paper that had a picture of david right in the middle. what else have you lied about, huh? matteo hissed. matteo, i- david says, not finding any words. no, matteo interrupts, i trusted you. i trusted you and you lied to me from the beginning. 

-david mopes about it for a week or two before leonie tells him he’s been quite grumpy recently, and that all of those reports he’s saying are garbage were perfectly fine. i’m cancelling the rest of your day, she says after david snapped at a vp for the third time in an hour. go talk to that boy and fix this, or at least get over him because you’re really starting to piss everyone off, she tells him with her arms crossed over her chest. how do you know about him? david pouts. leonie scoffs, you’re not subtle. 

-can i talk to you? david asks, going up to the snack stand with his tail between his legs and his fingers wrung together. what’s there to say? matteo asks. listen, david starts and puts his hands on the counter. i know that- that i lied to you, and i shouldn’t have. and i’m sorry, truly, because i never meant it to get this far. just- the only people who are ever interested in me do it for the money, and you were the first one to actually want to see me, for whatever reason. i just- i just really, really like you, matteo. and i just wanted to ask for another chance. matteo doesn’t say anything, just looks down at the counter, and david kind of wants to hold his breath. or you can tell me to just fuck off, david adds when matteo still hasn’t said anything. fresh start? matteo asks. fresh start, david agrees. 

#why actually write the aus i have stacked up in my asks box #when i can just make new aus and fuck around? #bb!davenzi i'll return to you soon i promise #davenzi #davenzi fic #my writing #other aus #filthy rich david

[morningfears]

Stacks

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18!

Summary: College!AU. Calum is usually into being watched but tonight, he wants to try something different. Ft. Voyeurism and public sex.

Word Count: 3.5k

The library is quiet around you, completely still and devoid of life. It’s the middle of June and though you’d rather be anywhere else, you’re thankful for the air conditioning and the lack of usual library inhabitants as you stare blankly at the history textbook lying open on the table in front of you. It’s barely nine at night, far too early to call it quits but late enough to feel tempted, and you force yourself to bite back a sigh as you lift your head to glance at the blonde sitting across from you.

Luke looks just as miserable as you feel as he stares at his literature textbook. His eyes lack the usual spark and his curls are unruly from the constant movement of his hand running through them. He checked out nearly an hour ago and, if you’re being honest, you’re ready to join him.

You quietly stare at him for another long moment before you sigh and lean back in your seat. “Honestly,” you begin, a little too loudly for the library, “I’m over this semester and it’s barely started. Who the fuck decided that summer classes should be a thing?”

“The same person that decided tuition should be a thing, probably,” Luke offers with a shrug as he continues to stare, bored beyond belief, at the open book lying on the table in front of him. He hasn’t turned a page in close to fifteen minutes and, normally, you’d call him out. However, this time, you’re in much the same position.

You nod thoughtfully at Luke’s assertion and move to rest your elbows on the table. “The university complex is ridiculous and overrated. We’re spending eons in classes, re-learning bullshit we were supposed to learn in high school, and we’re not even guaranteed to get a job at the end of it. What are we guaranteed? A piece of paper in a fancy cardboard holder and a year’s free membership to the Alumni Association, if we’re lucky. That’s a bullshit trade-off if I’ve ever seen one,” you huff as you return the cap to your highlighter and toss the yellow marker onto the table. “I need coffee.”

“Or sex,” Luke hums, his tone never changing as he grabs your discarded highlighter and begins to twirl it between his fingers. “Speaking of, where’s Cal? Wasn’t he supposed to meet us here?”

“He had to help with orientation today. Represent the frat at the information session,” you sigh as you shove your history textbook back into your backpack. “He texted me, like, twenty minutes ago, though. The freshmen they’re hosting at the house are apparently all lightweights and have mostly passed out so he’s on his way. Wants to go over math notes or something with you.”

Luke frowns at this and shakes his head. “Why does everyone come to me for help with math?” Luke questions as he copies your actions and shoves his own textbook into his backpack. 

“Your mom’s a math teacher, Luke,” Calum reminds him as he emerges from between two shelves, a carrier full of coffee in hand and a grin on his lips, “and you did so well on your exams that you got to skip math. Not all of us are fucking nerds.” Luke makes an indignant noise at this while Calum turns to you with a smile and presses a kiss to your forehead before he takes a seat in the open chair beside you. “And not all of us chose majors that require the most basic math class and nothing harder,” he teases as he glances at you.

“Not my fault you want to do something with your life,” you shrug as you grab the cup from his outstretched hand, “I’m getting a liberal arts degree that’s going to keep me in debt and jobless for the rest of my life. But at least I sorta like my classes.”

Luke whines at this and shakes his head once more. “Can we stop talking about class and the future?” Luke questions as he takes his own coffee from Calum. “It’s depressing and I don’t want to have a mental breakdown in the library. Remember that one kid freshman year?” When you and Calum nod, Luke continues, “People still bring it up and tease him about it. And he’s, like, a super senior.”

“Fuck this bullshit,” you grumble as you nudge your coffee cup to the side and drop your head to the table with a ‘thump’. “I give up. I’m going to become a stripper. Did you know that was an actual goal of mine for, like, ten minutes when I was a kid?” you mumble, your voice muffled by the table. “Wanted to be a stripper or a Playboy Bunny. Couldn’t decide. Thought about both. Maybe a Suicide Girl.”

Calum makes a thoughtful noise beside you before he reaches out to stroke your back gently. “If you want to test any, or all, of those fantasies, see if you’d be any good at them, I’m more than happy to help judge,” Calum offers with a grin. When you reach out to swat at him half-heartedly, he grabs your arm and tugs you into his side with a laugh. “I’m kidding,” he assures you, a grin still present on his lips, “academia is for you. You’re just tired. You guys have been here for hours.” He pauses for a moment, looks you and Luke over, before he continues, “Seriously, you should take a break. Say fuck the reading, both of you. Let’s go run through the fountain naked or something.”

“Honestly, I love you, but fuck off,” you sigh as you prop your head on your arms and glance over at Calum. “I don’t feel like going streaking at the moment. I’m tired. And hungry. And also horny. It’s the worst combination of negative emotions and I’m actually going to combust if I don’t get out of this library. My soul is becoming one with these walls.”

Calum is quiet for a moment as he watches Luke draw haphazard circles on the table with the capped end of the highlighter while you stare blankly at your coffee cup. He wants to break the two of you out of your school-induced haze and, the longer he thinks about it, the clearer the perfect idea becomes. You’d mentioned it once, early in your relationship and under the influence of far too much weed, but Calum remembers clearly that you’d had a thing for Luke before the two of you got together. And Luke, God love him, doesn’t have a filter and has mentioned on several different occasions just how attractive he finds you.

Calum had admitted to you during a late night conversation after a few orgasms and in desperate need of sleep that he’d like to watch you with someone else. It was a fantasy he never though he’d have, he prefers to be watched, but the idea hit him and he hasn’t been able to shake it. That night, you’d been on board after a moment’s hesitation and Calum is thinking that now might be time to act. Especially, he rationalizes to himself, here in the deserted third floor stacks.

He knows that there’ll never be another opportunity like this. The library is nearly empty, quiet and devoid of life. The campus itself is empty, most students have gone home for the summer, and is running on a skeleton crew. Even if you were to get caught, which Calum highly doubts, it’ll likely be by someone who isn’t paid enough to care.

With that, and yours’ and Luke’s desperate need for a study break, in mind, Calum decides to propose his solution to the two of you. He breaks the lengthy stretch of silence with a quiet hum of, “I think I might have another idea. You guys trust me?”

Calum expects a moment of hesitation but without missing a beat, you nod. “Of course,” you assure him, lifting your head slightly to glance over at him, “you know I do.”

“Not in the slightest but I’m dying of boredom so I’ll bite,” Luke shrugs, although both of you know that he trusts Calum with his life.

Calum rolls his eyes at Luke’s response before he leans over and presses a kiss to your forehead. He hesitates for a moment, almost unsure of himself, before he steels his resolve, stands from his seat, and begins walking toward the back of the room. He’s heading for the back row of shelves, out of view of the cameras, and you frown as you watch him. When he doesn’t hear footsteps behind him, he glances over his shoulder at you and Luke. “You guys coming?” he calls over his shoulder, grinning when you and Luke share a wary glance before you both stand and hurry after him.

“Okay, not that I don’t fully trust you,” you begin as Calum leads you and Luke into a corner illuminated by the streetlight outside the window, “I just don’t get it. What are we doing in the dustiest corner of the library?”

The lights aren’t as harsh in this area, the florescent bulbs are blocked by the high shelves, but there’s still enough light pouring in that you can see the dust covered shelves and cobwebs. You can also see Calum and Luke clearly enough to notice that Calum has a mischievous glint in his eyes while Luke looks just as confused as you feel.

“You remember what we talked about a few weeks ago?” Calum asks you as he steps closer and reaches out to place his hands on your hips. When you stare blankly at him, he sighs. “We talked about things we wanted to try. I said I wanted to watch.”

It takes a moment but when Calum sees a flicker of recognition in your eyes, he grins. “Wait, what?” you laugh, “Here? Now? With Luke?”

“What are we doing here, now, and with Luke?” Luke questions, his eyebrows furrowing further with confusion. “What are you trying? What are you watching? I feel so lost right now.”

“Shut up for a second, Luke,” you mumble, glancing over Calum’s shoulder at him. He holds his hands up in surrender and turns his attention to the dusty, broken spines of old books as you turn yours to Calum. “Are you serious? Why here, why now?”

“I’m serious,” Calum nods as he squeezes your hips gently. “Here because it’s quiet and empty, now because the two of you need a break. Do you still want to?”

“I mean, yeah,” you nod, certain that sleeping with Luke is something you want, “but are you sure you’re okay with it? I don’t want to say you’re possessive but…”

“You’re possessive,” Luke chimes in, his attention still on the bookshelf and back still turned to the two of you. When you’re silent for a moment, he shrugs. “You’re right there, I can’t help but hear you.”

Calum rolls his eyes at this before he returns his full attention to you. “I’m okay with it,” he nods. “If I don’t like it, at least we’ll know and I can go back to being possessive,” he shrugs, adding the last few words with a grumble as he cuts his eyes to Luke (who you’re certain has a grin on his lips).

“Okay but that doesn’t mean Luke wants to,” you sigh as you glance over Calum’s shoulder once more.

“Luke definitely wants to,” Calum nods. He’s certain that Luke will say yes. He knows that this is something Luke has wanted for a while and will jump at the opportunity.

“If you two would stop talking about me like you think I can’t hear you, I’d tell you if I was in or not,” Luke huffs as he turns to face you and Calum. “What do I definitely want to do?” he directs to Calum as soon as Calum turns to face him.

“You definitely want to fuck my girlfriend.”

Luke stands there, frozen with his eyes wide and mouth hanging open, for a long moment before he shakes his head. “What? No, I don’t. What gave you that idea?” When he glances at you and sees your raised eyebrows, he backtracks. “I mean, I do. I find you very attractive and great and would love to but you’re with Calum! And I would never…” Luke trails off when he realizes you and Calum are both smiling at him. He’s slightly confused and doesn’t understand what’s happening as he grumbles, “Stop laughing at me. I don’t know what you want me to say here.”

“Just say yes,” you encourage him with a grin. “Cal and I were talking about it. He’s always had a thing for being watched but now he wants to try the reverse, watching someone else.”

“Why me?” Luke asks, eyes still wide and a blush creeping up his neck.

“Because she wants you just as bad as you want her,” Calum shrugs as he wraps his arm around your shoulders and grins at Luke. “Either take it or leave it, Luke. This is the only time I’m going to play nice and share.”

Luke glances between you and Calum for a long moment. He wants to be certain that you’re both serious, that you’re not playing a practical joke on him, but he knows that neither of you would do anything that cruel to him. He knows that you’re both serious and, although he’s somewhat nervous, he doesn’t want to let this opportunity pass him by.

“Okay,” he nods, “yeah. I want to do this.”

Calum grins at this and nods before he releases your shoulders and brings his hands to your cheeks. He pulls you in for a quick, passionate kiss before he releases you and steps back. “I don’t think anyone will check back here but remember we’re in public. Keep quiet, baby,” he reminds you with a grin. After he nudges you toward Luke, Calum leans against one of the stacks, settling into a space where he can still see your face, and nods. “Go for it.”

Both you and Calum know that Luke won’t take the lead in this scenario. You know that he’s afraid to cross any lines or upset Calum so you make the first move. The moment Calum nudges you forward, you close the open space between you and Luke and pause before you touch him. “Is this okay?” you ask, wanting to be sure, “Can I touch you?”

“Please,” Luke nods, “it’s more than okay. Fuck.”

You grin at his excitement as you wrap your arms around his neck and tangle your fingers in his hair. You know that, even though the library is mostly empty, you’re still in public and need to be mindful of how long you take. However, you want to savor the first few moments. So you’re slow, soft and gentle, as you rake through the curls. “You can touch me, Luke,” you smiles, granting him permission, “I promise, Cal won’t be mad.”

Calum nods his agreement when Luke glances over at him but otherwise remains quiet as he watches Luke place his hands on your hips. Luke attempts to tune Calum’s presence out as you gently pull him down to press a soft kiss to his lips. Luke is somewhat rigid against you but the moment your fingers gently tug at his hair, he’s melting against you.

Calum watches as you lead the kiss. He watches Luke’s fingers dig into your hips, your fingers tug at his hair, your lips working seamlessly together. Calum shifts to get a better look as you crowd closer to Luke, your chest pressed against his as you release his hair and drop your hands to his shoulders. Luke breathes a sigh of content as he moves his hands to your ass. Calum grins at this, happier than he thought he would be at Luke finally playing along, and adjusts himself in his jeans as he watches your hands move down Luke’s chest.

“You can touch me, Lu,” you mumble against the column of his throat as you pull away to catch your breath.

“You should touch her,” Calum reminds him. “I’m enjoying this but we’re in public.”

Luke blinks as if he’s only just remembered this fact and nods. “Public,” he mumbles, his hands squeezing your ass before they move to the button of your shorts, “right.”

With the thought that the two of you are on a timer, Luke gains the motivation he needs to begin moving uninhibited. Calum is mildly impressed as he watches Luke dip his hand beneath your skirt and nudge your panties to the side. You feel your knees buckle as Luke’s fingers find your clit and he grins into the kiss as he wraps his arm around your waist to hold you up. As you focus on the feeling of Luke’s fingers rubbing at your clit, brushing your slit and attempting to open you up, you follow his lead and unbutton his jeans.

Calum steps just a little closer as Luke turns you and presses you against the window. Luke has his lips back on yours, his tongue licking into your mouth as he bunches your skirt up. He slips two fingers into your heat, working to prepare you, as he uses his free hand to nudge his jeans down just enough to free his cock. He feels something against his arm and pulls away from you, confused, only to find Calum holding a condom out to him. “Thanks,” he mumbles as takes the foil from Calum.

Calum nods his acknowledgment before he steps back and allows Luke to continue. Luke doesn’t want to rush this, he wants to savor the moment, but he knows that the two of you need to hurry. So as you press kisses to the column of his throat, he rolls the latex onto his length.

As Luke brushes his length down your slit, you meet Calum’s eyes over his shoulder. His eyes are dark with lust and his bottom lip is swollen from biting it. His arms are folded over his chest but you can see the bulge in his jeans and you know that he’s likely aching to be touched. You know that your night is far from over, you can tell by the smirk on his lips, and the thought makes you moan as you return your fingers to Luke’s hair. “Come on, Luke,” you groan as you tug at his curls, “fuck me, please.”

Luke groans at the feeling of your lips on his neck, of your hands in his hair, and nods as he places his cock at your entrance. He sinks in slowly, wanting to savor the moment, but as soon as he’s buried inside of you, his thoughts all vanish into nothing but how tight and warm you are around him. He remains still for a moment, breathing deeply as he attempts to control himself, before he sets a moderate pace.

His fingers are on your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves quickly, as he fucks into you. Your free hand is splayed on the glass as you wrap your leg around his waist and attempt to hold yourself steady. You can feel the glass vibrating behind you, can feel the exhilaration as you think that anyone passing by might be able to see, and it all overwhelms your senses as you meet Calum’s eyes once more.

You keep your eyes on Calum’s as you cum and he has to bite back a groan as he watches you. He wants to step in, kiss you and hold you tight to his chest, but he remains in his position as he watches Luke chase his own orgasm. It only takes another moment, not long after your release, for Luke to join you in the afterglow of an orgasm. He’s still for a moment, quiet, before he pulls out.

The two of you are quiet as you adjust your clothes and Luke moves to step away but before he can, you pull him in and press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Thank you, Lu,” you mumble against his lips before you gently pat his cheek and step around him to reach out for Calum. Before you can speak, Calum pulls you into a heated kiss. His hands are against your cheeks, holding you in place, as he leaves you breathless.

“I liked it,” he mumbles against your lips in response to your unspoken question. “I really fucking liked it,” he breathes as he grabs your hand and guides it to the bulge in his jeans.

“I think I’m done studying for the night,” you breathe as you gently squeeze him, “we should go back to my place. My roommates are gone.”

“Or we could go to mine,” Calum breathes, “I don’t think my roommate will mind. He might even join us.”

The both of you glance at Luke who looks mildly surprised but nods just as quickly. “Fuck yeah,” he breathes as he grabs the hand you’re holding out to him, “I don’t mind at all.”

Author’s Note: I started this, like, ages ago for a request. And I just now finished it. If whoever requested this initially is still around, I’m sorry and I hope you liked it.

#5sos smut #calum hood smut #luke hemmings smut #5 seconds of summer smut #5sos imagine #5sos imagines #calum hood imagine #calum hood imagines #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer imagines #luke hemmings imagines #luke hemmings imagine #5sos fanfic #5sos preference #5sos fics #5sos stories #luke hemmings fan fic #luke hemmings fanfic #luke hemmings fanfiction #calum hood fanfiction #calum hood blurbs #calum hood preferences #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer preferences #5 seconds of summer preference #5 seconds of summer perferences #mine #catskinkmas

[only-in-dreamland]

So I've decided that the clip with his mama is one of my favourites this entire season and here's why:

First of all, can I just say that skam italia have done such a brilliant job of the way they're using music in every episode, not just songs, but scores that show the weight and intention behind every scene and it's just art.

For instance the opening of this clip with the background music just makes you feel the impact (literally gives me chills) of this scene, so not only are we seeing it though marti researching BPD, but it is also auditorily stunning where everything just feels that much more contemplative.

Niccolò's message oh my god I- 'the giraffe's heart is far from it's thoughts. It fell in love yesterday, and doesn't know it yet.'

I love love love everything this signifies; it reflects the importance of feelings, especially to Niccolò; someone who can lose sight of reality, who's made to doubt everything he thinks...his ideas, his desires, his dreams. Who's made to feel like he can't trust his own thoughts; that everything he thinks is a consequence of his mental illness, as opposed to a consequence of his own feelings.

Which is all the more heartbreaking when you link it back to when he said 'I want to figure out what I feel on my own'. Because everyone else wants to dictate for him, tell him what's best, what's real...but for him the only thing he can trust is what he feels, and boy does he feel for marti.

Marti does this huge inhale right before he goes to block Nico's number, almost as if he's preparing himself for a painful blow. When he's already suffered it. So perhaps from his own rationale he sees that blocking nico's number is a way to block his own pain? Like it's just too overwhelming for him to acknowledge at this point. And instead of trying to figure out the hidden meaning behind yet another vague mesage from Niccolò, he does the only thing he can think that will give him a sanctuary from this pain...even just for a little while. (I'm not convinced he actually got a chance to block him though so there's that)

When his mum comes in, it all being too overwhelming is confirmed because his reaction to her is instantaneous, and when he glances back at her as she walks into the room I'm just- floored by his expression; he looks so...exposed like he knows he can't hide the hurt anymore.

Then the part where Federico decides to stab me in the heart, and then twist it even deeper because my god his voice here is haunting.

'Fuck off then, you'll stay here on your own' - as marti's voice breaks here, I break too. Honestly it was the most painful bit of martino for me yet (in ANY clip) because it was so emotive, yet so harsh. And those words...'stay here on your own' echo what marti said to nico in the bathroom clip in episode 5, about how all his mama does is stay at home all day...alone. Parallels will be the death of me.

The way his head falls back towards the door, towards her, as if he wants to bridge the gap but just doesn't know how to. And yet again, we have another metaphor: shutting the door equals shutting his mum out. From his struggles, from his pain...perhaps he feels she wouldn't know how to be there for him, since he feels she's done nothing to help herself (again the bathroom scene in ep 5).

But then they mirror each other; they're sat in the same position just on opposite sides. They're both in pain. And that's what's so hard to watch with these two. They could be such significant parts of each other's support system, yet the theme of miscommunication is so prevalent. Marti didn't want to spend time with her because he didn't know how to help, because he hated seeing her depressed and no matter what he did, he felt it was doing nothing for her. So he distanced himself, and then Niccolò came along and a struggle of his own came about. For mama Rametta, she thinks her son hates spending time with her. But little does she know how exhausting it is to watch your own mother, go through such hardship and depression and feel useless in helping her. It's a vicious cycle yet neither are directly confronting it to one another; hence why they end up fighting each other, instead of fighting together through all the difficulties of life.

'We're all happy in this house, aren't we?' This is such a sad line to me because it's acknowledging the fact that neither of them are happy...at home. When home should be a place that makes you feel safe, warm and all things associated with happiness.

'Marti, you're the most important thing in my life'- this line, this line right here is so damn powerful; she's heartbroken to think her own son doesn't trust her with it; but what's so telling is he said 'I don't know'- such a grey answer, not a straight up 'no' or 'yes' but it implies the lack of communication yet again...he doesn't know his mum enough to draw any conclusion as to how she'd react- positive or negative- and that is more devastating because when did this chasm get so big between them? This disconnect? This misunderstanding? It really feels like a tragedy.

Fuck off Federico just fuck off because I can't handle his boundless talent anymore; marti crying in pain but almost disbelief because he can't believe he's hearing it, he's nodding his head ever so slightly like he's understanding this for the first time and wow that...makes my heart ache because when did he ever doubt that? And why? When did he think he wasn't enough? Was it when his dad left? And he felt replaced by another son? Just fucking kill me...it would hurt less.

'Can I get out, out least?' Oh this line is a brilliant play on words. Because simply it's 'can I get out of this room?' but metaphorically? It's 'please let me in' because he's shutting her out here remember...physically and mentally. So if he was to open the door, and that mental barrier he puts between the two of them they can finally start to understand one another and repair what's been broken.

'Let's see'...this holds such a hopeful sentiment. Because he's not shutting her down. And he's not denying any chances of it happening. He's leaving the possibilities wide open, a

'who knows what could happen? because I don't know yet but maybe just maybe give me some time and we'll get there'

#skam italia #hands down one of my favourite clips #so of course i wrote a thesis on it #i'm just in awe #it's all so gritty and i just love every part of it #even the painful ones #federico cesari #martino x niccolò

[trustmemonty]

5 Preformance day

"Have you ever done any acting before? You're really talented.", I asked. "No, not really. Oh wait, I played a dwarf in third grade when my class put on Snow White", he laughed. "I don't think that counts", I laughed with him. "But I mean it. I think you can get far if this is something you want to focus on. You're a natural", I assured him, smiling. He smiled looking at the floor, blushing. "Can I tell you a secret?", he asked. "Of course." "I kind of have a secret dream to become an actor. To starr in a movie or something.", He admitted, still blushing. "Looks like we share the same dream", I replied, still smiling.

After he want back home I sat on my bed trying to process what had just happened. Montgomery de la Cruz had been at my house… in my room even. And he was kind and funny and… normal. He even told me a secret. That must mean that somehow he trusts me. I was surreal. Just thinking about his name would usually make me slightly nauseous, but now it gave totally different associations. And I was pretty sure I was falling for him… at least one version of him.  

I didn't see him at school the following day, and when the evening came it was time for class again, and this time we were going to preform our scene in front of the class. I knew we had rehearsed more than enough. The scene sat perfectly, but I couldn't help but feel nervous. Not for me, but for him. Up until this point he only had to get comfortable around me, but now he had to preform in front of everyone, and he had barely spoken to any of them. I arrived before him, as usual, and he came walking right up to me as soon as he walked in. "You ready?", I asked. "Yeah", he said, but I noticed the nervousness in him. "Hey, look at me", I said, and spun him around to face me. He looked at me, and now it was obvious he was very nervous. "You are a great actor! When we rehearsed yesterday it was perfect. Everyone here share your dream, and you are going to knock them off their feet. Just focus on me, okay?", I comforted him. He nodded and took a deep breath. It seemed to help a bit. We watched about half the group before the teacher called our names. Monty looked at me, panic in his eyes. I gently grabbed his face with both hands and looked him straight in the eye. ". Remember your dream. Just like yesterday, It's only you and me. No one else is here. Focus on me, only me", I gave him as one last advice and reminder before we had to go up in front of everyone and preform.

And what a performance it was. I don't know if it was my advice or if he just managed to pull himself together on his own, but it was just as good as it was when we rehearsed it in my room. I could tell everyone was impressed my him, the teacher included. "Fantastic! Great performance! What a talent", she exclaimed when we were done. He was proud, no doubt about it. And so was I. "Nailed it!", I whispered as we joined the group to make room for the next preformers. He surprised me by pulling me in for a hug. Butterflies! I was stunned for a second, before I hugged him back. He pulled back from the hug, grinning from ear to ear. "Hell yeah", he whispered back. And for something that probably felt like a lot longer than it actually was, we just stood there looking at each other, smiling like idiots. We realized at the same time how stupid we both must have looked, and both turned to watch the rest of the group do their performances. The teacher pulled us both aside on the way out after class. "Hey, Maya and Monty. Once again, great performance you guys. I am impressed", she said ecstatically. "Looks like Maya was able to teach you a few tips and tricks, huh?", she grinned at Monty. "Yeah", he smiled, shooting me a quick glance. "I had a gut feeling the two of you would be a good match. Maya, you did a great job helping him. He's already on a level that takes most people months to reach" "It wasn't really much to help with. He's a natural.", I admitted. He blushed again. "Well, I can't wait to see both of you evolve. Have a great weekend and I'll se you again on Monday"

"I better get going. I have a bus to catch", I told him as we stood outside the theater. "Okay, see you Monday", he replied. "See you Monday". I turned and walked the short distance to the bus-stop. I was waiting for the bus, playing a game on my phone, when I was interrupted by something blocking the sun. I looked up and straight into a rolled down car window with a familiar face behind it. "Hey, do you want a ride?", Monty smiled. I smiled back and got in. On the drive home the conversation flowed naturally and we were cracking jokes and laughing. It felt like I had known him my whole life. There was no awkwardness at all, like I had expected it to be. He pulled up to my house and I picked my bag up from the floor of the car. "Thanks for the ride", I said, and got ready to leave. "No stress. Thanks for… the advice. I couldn't have done that today if it wasn't for you", replied. "No stress", I mimicked him, making him laugh. "Bye". "Bye", he smiled back. Another one of those moments went by where we were just looking at each other like idiots. I snapped out of it and left the car. I walked inside and watched him drive off from my living room window.

Yep, I'm definitely falling for him. Shit!

________________________

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#montgomery de la cruz #monty de la cruz #montgomery de la cruz fanfic #monty #montgomery #montgomerydelacruz #montydelacruz #timothy granaderos #timothygranaderos #timisnotmonty #Tim is not Monty #ash franklin #13 reasons why #13rw #13rw monty #13rw montgomery #fanfic

[canyousevmyheavydirtysoul]

Brendon’s P.O.V. : Chapter Thirty Three

“No. No. Fuck no. No, no, no. Over my dead fucking body. No.”

A vile feeling built up inside of me the second I caught sight of who Fury was leading into the room, and it was accompanied with a scowl and the clenching of my fists as I fought to hold back and not launch myself at the son of a bitch. He actually had the audacity to walk his sorry ass in here?

I turned to look at Fury.

And you had the audacity to let him walk his sorry ass in here? What the fuck?

“I have my reasons.” The Director bowed his head slightly and held up both hands.

“There is no fucking reason good enough to constitute this,” I hissed, scattily gesturing to the stupid piece of work accompanying Fury and paying extra attention to glare hatefully at him.

I actually can’t believe this.  

“Do not swear at me, Agent,” Fury retorted, face stern and voice as cold as ever.

“I’m sorry, sir,” I cast my gaze to the tiled floor and shook my head languidly.

No, fuck that. He messed with (Y/N).

“Actually, no. I’m not. With all due respect, sir, what the hell are you thinking?! He-”

“Like I said, Agent,” Fury clenched his jaw, “I have my reasons. And I would gladly appreciate it if you shut the hell up for ten seconds and let me convey them.”

Cold, hard silence was all I offered in response. I had an abundance of comebacks to his words, don’t get me wrong, but none of them were at all appropriate. So, I kept my mouth shut out of respect for my superior.

And out of marginal fear over losing my job.

“Fantastic,” with a sarcastic smile, Fury glanced over at the cockroach he’d let scurry in, rousing everyone else to do so as well. Fucking hell, I wanted to squash him. “Given recent events, I am well aware that his presence may seem a bit strange, but I wouldn’t have invited him to join us if I wasn’t one thousand percent sure that he had nothing to do with it.”

“He probably had everything to do with it,” I sneered under my breath; it was in a hushed tone, but he heard me nevertheless. Good. That’s great. He’s not welcome here, and I would make sure he knew it.

“I assure you that I had no involvement in any of it whatsoever,” his eyes darted over to her, standing cross-armed behind me, and his face lit up, “I would never do anything to endanger your life, (Y/N).”

She didn’t respond and I could feel the discomfort radiating off of her, so I stepped in front of her, blocking her from his view so that she wouldn’t have to look at him. I knew she didn’t want to.

“You don’t get to talk to her,” I reprimanded, staring him down with heated intensity.

Watch yourself, motherfucker, before I turn you into a fucking all you can eat human sushi-buffet.

“For the last time,” he huffed, readjusting the glasses set on his face, “I’m telling you that I had nothing to do with any of it.”

“For the last time, I’m telling you that I think you’re talking bullshit.”

“For the last time, everyone shut up and let me finish sayin’ what I gotta say!” Fury interjected, delivering a sharp glare at both of us. “Thank you. Now, I know that some of you won’t be on board with what I’m about to say,” Fury looked around the room at everyone else in it – (Y/N), Spencer, Hill, Corvey, Romanoff and Coulson – before setting his gaze on me and raising his brows, “especially you – but I’m counting on you all to trust my judgement.”

Damn straight I wasn’t on board with this. This was some bullshit! This bastard was the unfortunate offspring of the douchebag that’s hell-bent on annihilating (Y/N)’s life, and what, we were supposed to just welcome him with open arms? Not a fucking chance. Never. I would never trust him.

“Doctor Ross had nothing to do with any of the events that transpired over the past year, or any of the others before that – I am certain of that. S.H.I.E.L.D has kept a close eye on him ever since he made a name for himself, considering him to be a healthy alliance to have, should the need arise. And arise it has,” The Director spoke, hands clamped behind his back as he looked around our little group.

Seriously? What the fuck? Why is this happening? I can’t believe this, I really can’t. So Fury’s recruiting the children of terrorists now? Absolutely fucking lovely. Yay for diversity.

I glanced around the room at my silent co-workers and shook my head in disbelief at their non-existent refute. Was I the only one with a solid, logically working mind here?

“Sir, how can we trust him?” I all but sputtered, widening my eyes in desperation as I silently begged The Director to rethink his choice of consultants. “His father-“

“Is a piece of shit,” Fury interrupted, before looking at Ross and cocking one brow, “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” the demon-spawn held up one hand to show that it was indeed fine, “I concur.”

“Doctor Ross – this Doctor Ross – is anything but. He had no knowledge of his father’s involvement in Hydra,” Fury spoke, “In fact, he hasn’t spoken to his father in… how long?”

“Nine years.”

“Nine years,” Fury turned back to the group with a nod of his head.

“Bullshit,” I scoffed, pointing an accusatory finger at the doctor, “You were at the launch of his exhibit at the museum in Stuttgart.”

“Yes, I was,” he said exasperatedly, shoulders slumping – a visual indication of his growing irritation. Careful, dick, or I’ll dropkick your ass. “But no one other than the people in this room and a German museum attendant are aware of that fact.”

A collection of perplexed faces gazed at him – me included – and he sighed before beginning to elaborate.

“As mentioned, I haven’t seen, nor have I spoken to, my father in almost a decade. He and I…” he drew in a sharp breath as he shut his eyes for a moment; his next words clearly pained him to say. If only I cared. “We never really got along. He’s a remarkable intellectual, but he was an awful father. We’d fight a lot, him and I. Sometimes they were physical, but those weren’t the worst ones. My family are specialists at using their words as weapons, knowing exactly what to say to ensure that they cut the deepest wounds. And there was a lot of that between the two of us. I said some things, and he said a lot more things, until eventually I couldn’t handle it anymore. I left home when I was sixteen and haven’t been back since.”

Oh, boo-fricking-hoo. You’re not the only one with a tragic backstory. And yours is certainly the least tragic out of everyone in this room.

“Touching,” I mocked with a false curve of his lips, “But if you don’t mind, could you hurry your little pity-party up? In case you haven’t noticed, we’re fighting against the end of the world, here.”

His expression changed from that of a man mourning the loss of a relationship with his father, to that of a man ready to commit murder.

Or at least, that’s what I think it was supposed to look like. I struggled to swallow my laughter as I took him in. That’s what he called a glare? Please. He looked like a constipated penguin.

On second thought, maybe that wasn’t an accurate comparison. Penguins are cute. He is not.

I returned his glare – showing him how it should be done – and we engaged in a silent battle. Surprisingly, he didn’t back down as easily as I thought he would; I’d give him minimal props for that. But his stare wasn’t anywhere close to menacing enough to scare me off. In fact, there were very few things that could scare me off. I’d stared death right in the face multiple times. I’d faced some of the worst heartbreak imaginable. It would take a lot more than the “glare” of a nerdy pipsqueak to throw me off.

The longer we stayed like that, the more his demeanour faltered. I noticed his eyes twitch lightly. I hardened my stare.

Any second now.

He bit on the inside of his cheek. My stare hardened even more.

C’mon.

He broke eye contact and flickered his gaze to the floor momentarily before looking up again.

There it is.

He turned to look at the others and resumed speaking.

“I heard about his exhibition a few months prior to its opening in Stuttgart, from an associate. I hadn’t received an invite, of course, and at first, I was unbothered; my father and I were estranged – I hadn’t expected to be on the guest list. But then, it started eating away at me. The guilt. The sadness of the entire situation. My father is an extremely stubborn man, and very hard to get through to, but as I sat and thought back to the last words I said to him before I left that day nine years ago, I knew that I had to try.” He paused for a moment, and I took the opportunity to roll my eyes and make hand gestures that told him to hurry up; I got another fiery look as a response, but I shut it down with an icy one of my own, “I had tons of deliberation over the idea, but ultimately decided that I would be attending. So, I made a few calls to have my name put on the guest list – an alias, of course, and under the radar so as not to alert my father and his staff. Having said that, it brings me back to my earlier statement: no one other than the people in this room and a German museum attendant are aware of that fact that I was at that gala.”

“You said that you went with the purpose of talking to your father,” she piped up, prompting his head to snap in her direction; his eyes sparkled, and it was obvious that he was ecstatic over the fact that she had finally spoken to him, “I assume your previous sentence means that you didn’t?”

(Y/N), sweetheart… WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?

He shook his head forlornly, looking down in shame. “No. I was going to; I was halfway up to his temporary office when I… I let my cowardice get the better of me, and turned left onto the balcony to catch a smoke, instead.”

Fucking coward.

“Figures,” I scoffed in amusement, prompting him to frown.

“Yeah, and I’m sure you have the perfect relationship with your father, don’t you?” he snapped.

“Never knew him, jackass.”

His eyes widened a bit in shock – he clearly hadn’t been expecting that – and he opened his mouth to reply but I cut him off.

I don’t need to hear anything more from him. Especially on that subject.

I crossed my arms and turned to The Director, “I still don’t trust him.”

“I don’t care,” Fury sassed back, “You’re not the person we need to trust him. (Y/N),” he leaned his body slightly to the side to look at her, “do you?”

She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth as she deliberated – fuck, she looked so good when she did that – and glanced back at Fury, who was gazing at her expectantly. Then she turned to me, and I instantly shook my head, mentally yelling at her to say no and send the son of a bitch packing. I thought I’d convinced her, too, but then she looked at his goddamned face and her sympathy reflex kicked in. That’s the only logical reason I can think of as to why she said what she said next.

“Yeah. I do.”

~

“Sometimes I get the suspicion that you want to die.”

She tilted her head to look up at me as I entered the locker room, her hands continuing their work on lacing up her shoes. “Whatever do you mean?” she asked, innocently.

You know exactly what I mean, you beautiful fucking frustration.

“Don’t play dumb with me.”

“I know better than to try and play anything with you.”

Oof.

“I can’t believe you agreed to have Ross here,” I breathed as I took a seat next to her on the bench, shaking my head as I tried to understand her actions.

“I can’t believe that you can’t believe that I agreed to have Ross here,” she frowned, standing up and placing her hands on her hips, “He’s a valuable strength to have on our side, Bren. I thought you’d be smart enough to see that.”

Bren. She called me Bren. My entire life, I’ve hated being called that. The one and only person I’d allowed to call me that was Spencer, and that was by default; he’d always called me that just to piss me off, but over time it… well, it stuck, and it became an integral part of our friendship, in a way.

Still, that name was reserved for Spencer only. Hell, I didn’t even let them call me that. But spilling from her lips, it sounded so wonderfully angelic that all of my hatred towards it dissipated instantly.

I decided right then that she was allowed to call me that, too; I liked it now. Yes. I liked it.

Only when she said it.

If anyone else called me that, I would bury them alive.

“I get that he’s valuable, I do,” I assured, holding my hands out, “But value means nothing if we can’t trust him.”

“But we can trust him.”

“I-“

I didn’t get a chance to voice my comment, since she groaned loudly as she clamped her hands on each of my shoulders and leaned down so that we were eye-level.

Oh, so you’re taking control now? Ooookay.

“Brendon, relax. Fury personally gave clearance for Aaron to join us on this. That’s gotta count for something, no?” she quizzed, arching her brows.

She had a point there, I guess.

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. “I just don’t want you to be surrounded by potential danger.”

“I’m always surrounded by potential danger,” she scoffed, laughing slightly. Her amusement did nothing to soothe my uneasiness; this wasn’t a joke. I creased my forehead. She brought her hands up higher so that they were settled just above my collarbones. “But that’s why I have you, so…”

“Mm, I suppose that’s true,” I murmured, lowering my gaze; it was then that I noticed the weapon and its holster attached to her hip, and I tensed up immediately. “Why are you suiting up?”

“Uh…” she looked down at the mission gear she was donning and furrowed her brows. “I mean, I could change back into what I was wearing earlier, but I hardly think that sweatpants are appropriate attire to wear while taking down a Hydra base.”

“You’re not going.”

“Yes, I am.”

My lips parted as I prepared to start an argument, but she wasn’t having any of it, and swiftly shut me down.

Damn.

“Nope. Don’t even try, ‘cause there’s nothing that any of you can do to stop me from going. You lied to me for months; the least you can do is let me join the mission to stop the people that murdered my parents.”

I attempted one last time to sequence the dispute further, but upon taking in her newfound confident attitude, I recognised that it would be pointless to even try.

“Alright, then,” I huffed, reluctantly shrugging off her hold on me as I stood up, “Just don’t-“

“Die,” she nodded, waving a dismissive hand as she turned to grab a comm for her ear, “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

S.H.I.E.L.D Quinjet, en route to Hydra’s base

Under normal circumstances, I would’ve been captaining this mission but since Spencer was the lone member of the team with inside knowledge on Hydra, it only made sense for him to assume the role of team leader for this particular mission.

Said team – namely myself, (Y/N), Spencer, Hill, Corvey, Natasha, Coulson and, excuse me while I throw up a little, Ross – were all on board the migrant jet, suited up and preparing for battle. A couple of additional jets with other agents that would be assisting were trailing closely behind us. It was inevitable that we would need backup at some point.

Coulson announced that the jet was approximately ten minutes out from the landing destination, and Spencer called for a final team briefing before everyone started to prepare for landing.

“Alright, let’s just go over the plan one more time…” Spencer spoke, proceeding to recap the strategy and each person’s role in it.

It had been outlined that I – supported by (Y/N), Spencer and Corvey – would lead a response team of agents in attacking the base from the front and providing a distraction so that the rest of them – sans Coulson, who would stay on the jet just in case the need for a premature getaway arose – could slip inside the base. Once inside, the remainder of the team – Hill, Ross (ugh) and Natasha – would set out to find and retrieve the Tesseract. It was a simple plan, not too complicated, and everyone was confident in their – and everyone else’s – abilities to carry it out successfully.

Yet, there was a knot in my stomach that wouldn’t go away.  

And then, after Spencer had finished speaking, and five minutes before landing, that fucker raised a hand in remonstration before turning the entire plan around one hundred and eighty degrees.

I wanted to fucking shoot him right then and there.

“Forgive me if I’m mistaken, but isn’t (Y/N) the only current inhabitant of this planet that is able to come into contact with the Tesseract and not disintegrate?”

Shut up. Shut your whore mouth.

“Er… yeah, she is,” Spencer answered with a confused tilt of his head, “Why?”

“Well, shouldn’t she be part of the team that is retrieving it? Since she’s the only one actually able to touch it. I mean,” Ross scoffed, extending his hands out at the rest of us, “how do any of us think we’re going to get it out of there? It doesn’t exactly come with oven mitts.”

I looked over at (Y/N) and saw her run her tongue along the inside of her cheek and shrug, looking at each of the team members in turn. “He has a point. Maybe I should be on the retrieval team.”

I swear to god I’m going to commit a fucking murder.

“Okay, no,” I stepped up, shaking his head vigorously, “I’m not even entirely comfortable with you being here in the first place; there’s no way I’m letting you out of my sight.”

“Then come with me.”

Anywhere.

“He can’t,” Spencer shot down her suggestion, “He’s leading the attack team.”

She sighed and relaxed her shoulders before turning to me. “Brendon, I’ll be fine.”

“(Y/N), I’m not leaving you alone with him,” I hissed through gritted teeth, tossing subtle side-eye at Ross, who pursed his lips in irritation.

Let’s see how well you can purse those lips after I punch you in the fucking mouth.

“I’m not gonna be alone with him,” she reminded, “Nat and Maria are gonna be there, too.”

I don’t trust him.

“Still.”

Exhaling heavily, she reached out to lightly squeeze my shoulder. “I can handle it. Trust me.”

“I do trust you,” I murmured, nodding lightly, “It’s him I don’t trust.”

“But I do.”

“Two minutes to landing,” Coulson called out from the pilot seat, prompting everyone other than her and I to strap in for impact.

“Bren…” she whispered as she gazed up at me, eyes silently pleading for me to give in.

Curse those gorgeous eyes.

“I need to keep you safe,” I reminded.  

“I know. I know you do. But I need to do this. I’m the only one who can.”

I knew she was right, and I knew that no matter how strongly against it I was, I had to give in. Frustratedly, I shut my eyes and gripped at my hair tightly, a soft groan escaping my throat.

Without so much as a second though, I reached out for her, one hand gripping her left arm as my other snaked around the side of her neck to cup the back of it and tug her towards me. She was noticeably caught off guard, gasping as the distance between the two of us got infinitely smaller.

Urie, stop. What the hell are you doing? You’re really gonna kiss her? Here? Now?

For a moment, I hesitated. That annoying as fuck little voice at the back of my head had a point. This was not how I’d wanted this to go; not the ‘perfect’ scenario I’d envisioned for us. Maybe I should back away before it’s too late.

Although, on the other hand, what if this opportunity never presents itself again?

You know what? Fuck it. If I was going to let her go in there with him, I needed to make sure that he knew exactly what he was dealing with, here. She was not for him to fantasize about, and I was about to make that wholly clear.

“One hundred seconds,” Coulson called out.

What I did next stunned everyone on the jet into silence.

The second my lips enveloped hers it was as if the world faded away. She consumed me completely.

And I loved it.

I didn’t kiss her slow, or amorously; in fact, I did the exact opposite, pulling her closer until I couldn’t anymore and kissing her with such ferocity that we almost toppled over. As our lips crushed together, I felt like I was walking on air. It was magic, the way her lips connected with mine. Her mouth was so warm, the caress of her lips softer than I could have imagined and I felt myself drowning in her essence.

When she kissed me back my brain lit on fire and the warmth spread throughout my entire body, sending shivers down my spine. The kiss obliterated every thought; the only thing that mattered in that moment was her. For the first time in forever, my mind was locked entirely in the present. The worries that had been plaguing me evaporated like a summer drizzle on a hot car.

I had no desire for the kiss to end.

A kiss like this was a beginning, a promise of much more to come.

And it was the purest form of ecstasy one could ever imagine.

Fuck, (Y/N), what have you done to me?

There was an exponential amount of urgency in my kiss, spearheaded by the fact that I wanted nothing more than to gather her up into my arms, carry her far away from all of this and never come back.

Somewhere in the heat of the kiss, her hands had glided up to my head, and now her slender fingers intertwined in my hair, pulling me closer, make me want more, more, more…

The ground started to feel like it was moving beneath us – literally – and I took that as a sign that we were close to running out of air. Drawing it out as long as I could, I broke the kiss. I made sure to maintain as close of a distance to her as possible, gripping her tight against my chest and pressing my forehead to hers.

“If anything goes wrong, call me immediately, okay?” I said softly, lightly squeezing the back of her neck.

I would die for her. I’d never been more serious about that than now. I’d give my life up for her if I had to, because now I knew that there was no fucking way I could live in a world where she didn’t exist.

The only thing I received in response was a weak nod.

I turned to look at Ross, my entire demeanour shifting once again as I locked gazes with the bastard.

“If anything happens to her,” I started, the threat evident in my voice and in the way I made sure to harden my face, “If she comes back with so much as a scratch, I swear to God-“

“You’ll kill me. Yes, you’ve previously made that quite clear,” he cleared his throat, looking down and adjusting his utility belt before lifting his head to look at me again, “Don’t fret, agent. She’s safe with me.”

I want to run you over with my car.

“Thirty seconds,” Coulson called; I could hear the tinge of awkwardness in his tone, and feel it radiating off of the other team members, but I didn’t care. And from the look on (Y/N)’s face, neither did she.

Ha.

I twirled my head back to focus on her, and leaned down again.

“Be safe,” I mumbled as my lips ghosted over hers, making my flesh break out in goosebumps.

“You too,” she breathed, leaning up to press her lips to mine for a millisecond.

Don’t stop doing that. Please don’t ever stop doing that.

“Agents,” Coulson announced, “we’ve arrived.”

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x

#brendon urie #brendon urie x reader #bodyguard!brendon #bodyguard #marvel #patd #p!atd #panic at the disco #panic! at the disco #emo #music #band #bands #band members #band imagines #band member imagine #emo trinity #emo quartet #imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction

[caterinaprimrose]

Metamorphosis (Pt. 1)

(Wanna read pt2?)

Outside of a Legal Documentation shop in the heart of Boralus, Caterina Primrose stood in front of the towering frame of Cazneaux Reigns. He’d just opened his construction company not forty eight hours prior. Having come to congratulate her dear friend and even shed some of her own news, the young beauty spoke up at him with rivaling strength. 

 "Do you remember just this past weekend I took a trip to the mainland to judge a talent show? Well, I also sat down in a court room with his grace, Magistrate Theodore Bennas and Lady Falconeye. She has signed over the deeds to her barony.” The actress just drops into the air, no grand build up or suspense dangled in front of his nose. It was just out there, said, existing, waiting to be reacted to. Actress turned into a Baroness. A noblewoman. 

His bushy blond brows perk up, creating many rolls across his forehead. "Oh-ho shit! She just up and gave you her whole barony? Has she gone mad?" He pauses for a moment, squinting, "Have you gone mad? Controlling however much land  she has with all of those titles and new employees and citizens to watch over..." he shakes his head with a low chuckle.

 She watched him like a hawk, eyes flicking all over his face as he spoke. It was as foreign to her as it was to him. It was unbelievable, truly. Caterina Primrose had been born impoverished on the very streets they walk. She fought tooth and nail for everything she’d had. She sold herself, cheated, lied, manipulated, she ruined lives to be secure and spoiled - and suddenly this land, this title was given to her. Gifted.

This changes things. 

A lot. 

“Madness or no, it’s mine, the papers have been signed. She wishes to focus on her family and business, she has no time to look after her late husband’s land. I plan to hold an election of town officials. A  council of sorts to actively run the barony when I am not present. I've a lot of work to do on the area, however. It's called Southport, it is settled on the river split between Westfall and Stranglethorn. You know, right along the Gold Cape of the Eastern Kingdoms. The river leads directly into Stormwind Harbor. It's something I'll be able to industrialize quite well." She pauses, inhaling slowly through her nose, her chest rises. The air was cold as blue eyes wander lucidly off him and into the thoughts of responsibilities gained with that flick of her signature. "I'll have a big estate built into the mountains all to myself, for a time. That is until I proclaim a husband and children, whom will safely live in its halls and never know hunger nor want." 

 "Sounds like it. Do you have any plans or  thought into how you'd like it to look like? I don't mean to make it seem as if you -must- hire me, but that would -certainly- be an impressive creation to add onto my company's bare resume."

Caterina's smile grows at his inquiry, and how could it not? "Mister Reigns, as much as I would love to see you in present in my barony, even just shortly, it wouldn't be the financially wisest decision. Hudson would do it for free. I have to see the place, first, but I know that I want marble floors. I want a big window over looking my city. I want...Mm.." She hums softly. "I want a theatre. I want it somewhere in Southport City, I plan to enrich them with art and culture. It's already a wealthier barony. We've got cattle ranches and mining to the west and fertile farming grounds as well as logging to the east." She let her hands lift, gesturing one side to the other. And the large river in the center for trade. Then two small villages on  either side of the river - Seastone Bay, and Rich Port." 

“But you're -truly- trusting a -shipping- company, over experienced architects and Kul'tiran engineers and construction workers? You'll truly choose -free- labor over -paid-  labor? I'm certain it sounds -fantastic-! A -steal-. But, as the famous saying goes, you get what you pay for. And you are no fool. Surely you're expecting to get the quality as high as the price the -shipping- company is offering."

 “Come now, Mister Hudson wouldn't see the work done poorly. Especially if he wishes to take my hand." Her smile faded at the mention of that, eyes losing some light and brow twitching slightly. "Besides, Mister Hudson is an -investor-. It isn't the men -shipping- whom construct. He has professionals whom do the work for him. And isn't it just the same, Mister Reigns? You're an arms dealer hiring construction workers. I see little difference." 

Cazneaux squints some at her first comment with a short-lived chuckle. He eventually shakes his head at her final comment. "-That-, my love, is where you're mistaken. I've lived on this planet for thirty seven years. I've done things that would put me on the chopping block before I hit double digits. I've seen monsters that live in the Great Sea that would make the Titans shiver. I've done jobs you'd -laugh- if you saw me do. I've been an arms dealer for -one- year of my life. The other thirty six I've been many things. So no, I'm not an 'arms dealer hiring construction workers', I'm an experienced opportunistic man who turns small jobs into big jobs, and started out eating scum off the side of the street to eating gourmet meals every night. I sell weapons that level camps to villages, and I now have the ability to erect creations that would -laugh- in the face of such destructive tools. You see, when I put my money into a business, I put my -all- into that business. Arms dealing, I sell to the Alliance and neutral forces. I sell to third parties. I sell to various agencies and companies down to nobility and commoners. This has my -name- on it, and I intend to make sure my name holds weight. -This- is a shipping company hiring some people to create buildings. Meanwhile -I- am putting my name and professionals to work. Ultimately, it -is- your barony, and I will respect your choices with no tainted blood. But I hope you see my point.”

 The actress inhales softly, chest rising. "Cazneaux, you know I respect and admire all that you do but I'm a high maintenance woman. I spare no expense, I spend much more than I have. And do you know where I get most of that coin from?" She perks a brow, "And how do you think that I'm suppose to convince him to spend thousands of gold for your company's services when he has the resources to get these things at a much lower rate through his own architectural means? It simply doesn't make sense. -I- surely don't have that kind of coin. That's King's money."

The man shakes his head some as she finishes speaking. "We haven't spoken officially on -any- of my pricing. But as I said. Your choice. May his little team grant you all of your wishes, even if he -is- intending on taking it for himself in the end."

 She purses her lips, plucking the insult he threw and tasting it bitter upon her tongue. "Well they are -my- lands and I plan for him to know that. He will not sway me into handing it over to him. And I want that thought -rectified- in everyone's minds. They'll know that they're mine legally and his by association." She seemed to be winding up, tight. Her body language had shifted, a tone of bubbling anger turning her red.

Cazneaux's head lifts some as she speaks. His perceptive gaze catching the non-verbal communication her body was telling him, whether or not she wished to convey it. "And his by association, do you mean you've some sort of contract that states whatever is yours, he'll have some sort of influence over?" "No - we're signing a prenuptial agreement." She brings her fingers up to either side of her head, fingers pushing back at blond strands. "What's his is his and what's mine is mine and while, yes, he'd technically be a Baron - by law, they’re -my-  lands. If he and I divorced he'd get no part of it what so ever. I have final say."

"So, if you gain nothing, why marry him?" He chuckles lightly, putting his hands up to mock surrender, "Not tryin' to shit on the man. I don't know him personally. But he never striked me as the down to earth, romantic type."

She just looks at him for a long moment, her tongue slipping over her teeth slow. "Because I enjoy this life far too much." 

 "And so that's it? You're going to allow him to dominate your life, plant his seed within you, and you birth his child out of fear? Didn't you -just- mention being able to keep your property if you divorced him? Now you're speaking as if that's not even an option. So, what is it, Caterina Primrose? Are you afraid of Braxton Hudson, or are you -not-? Are you going to continue to compare yourself to him, or are you going to focus on yourself and bolster your -own- wealth through your hard work  and absolutely -brilliant- people skills and word-smithing? The charm and charisma you have is capable of winning people over that that man would -never- be able to. You are powerful. Incredibly so. Yet you speak as if you're but a mere -ant- in  comparison to him, and I think that's bullshit. Simply because he has businesses under his employ, does not mean that he is more powerful than you. If having the ability to make someone disappear or be killed is what makes someone powerful, then  there are -far- more powerful men in this city than he. If it is coin, then there are -far- more powerful men and women in this city than he. If it is reputation, then you are still -incredibly- powerful in comparison to him." The man shakes his head some with a light chuckle, "I suppose the stereotype of artists being their harshest critics is true."

pt 2

@mister-reigns

@braxtonhudson

@moriayamina

#to be continued #pt 2 coming #Wyrmrest Accord #roleplays #alliance #Caterina Primrose #cazneaux reigns #mister-reigns #kul tiras #hudson shipping company

[sous-le-saule]

The first fanfic I ever wrote

The lovely @akhuna01 tagged me! Thank you so much! 

I wrote my first fanfic, Tout ce qu’on ne dit pas, in february 2016, a few weeks after I finished Good Omens. This is not the first fanfic I published, though, since I wrote three other stories while editing that first one.

Since it’s in French, I’m posting @lunasong365‘s beautiful translation, with her kind permission.

And since it’s almost 7k word long, I’m just posting the first chapter.

@maniacalmole @improbabledreams900 @not-a-space-alien I’d love to read your first fanfic!

Summary: Some things are more comfortable when they’re left unsaid. But strangely, sometimes, they don’t want to remain hidden.The first part imagines an incident that happens before the Antichrist’s birth, the second one is a reinterpretation of canon.

Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley

Rating: teen & up

Crowley awoke with a start. He’d fallen asleep during an episode of “The Prisoner,” which continued to flicker on the television in front of him.[1] Peering into the darkness of his apartment, it took a moment to realize what had woken him from his slumber. He eventually identified the sensation, both familiar and disturbing, that was hammering his temples: something demonic was happening. Not in the immediate vicinity, but close enough for his acute sense of territory to convince him to get up and put on his coat.

[1 -  He claimed that his professional responsibility required him to regularly check the quality of products he’d helped create, but he himself had succumbed to the addictive nature of series for which he’d whispered the idea to producers for this very reason. Since the invention of television, humans spent more and more time vegetating in front of the tube and less time reading. And they became easily irritated at the idea of missing an episode of their favorite show. However, programs were still too tasteful. Not enough sex. Or humiliation. Crowley was working on a project to sequester and film 24/7 people chosen for their lack of culture, good taste, and especially, modesty. He was investigating the idea, but felt that the world was not yet ready.]

He muttered under his breath as he walked toward the Bentley. "They could notify me when they send someone on a mission to my jurisdiction. A little respect, yeah? And anyway, why didn’t they give this mission to me?" He really hated the times his radio or television broadcast was interrupted to transmit orders from Hell (when would they finally trust his creativity, dammit?) But, hey, a demon has his pride. He relaxed, thinking it was maybe just one or two young demons sent to showcase their ability through some rite of passage: burst water pipes, disappearance of express parcels and urgent mails, simultaneous nightmares to wake children up screaming all over the city[2]. He still wanted to get to the bottom of it.

[2 -  It was however a little early for this third possibility because, as everyone knows, this kind of thing has to happen between 4 and 5 a.m., early enough to mess up your night, but too late for you to fall asleep again.]

With his vehicle carelessly stopped in the middle of Piccadilly Circus, Crowley leaned recklessly out the window as he attempted to locate the origin of the evil feeling. Soho. Shit.

At this late hour of the night, it was easier than usual to cross London at 160 km / hour. Crowley discreetly parked the Bentley halfway up the sidewalk a few doors down from Aziraphale’s bookstore. The front door had been forced open and was slightly ajar. Ohshitohshitohshit.

And like an idiot, Crowley had not brought the holy water stored in his safe.

~*~*@*~*~

Aziraphale fell heavily to the ground, breathless, muffling the cry of pain caused by the deep lacerations his opponent’s claws had just inflicted on his arm and his side. He threw a desperate look towards the dagger he had dropped, now several meters away from him. Things were not looking good. The demon who faced him displayed his considerable teeth in a predatory smile. Taking great care to avoid the weapon that had reduced his two associates to an unrecognizable mess of flesh, his opponent strengthened the grip on his own rune-carved blade and approached the angel. Aziraphale struggled to get up.

The demon suddenly hesitated, and Aziraphale understood why when he himself perceived a second demonic presence. He immediately recognized the familiar aura of Crowley, which boiled with intense feelings. Rage. Fear ... Love?

“Back off, asshole. Nobody touches my angel.”

The first demon, twice as big as Crowley, turned to keep his two opponents in his field of view. He relaxed slightly when he saw that the newcomer was not armed.

“And how do you think you’ll stop me?” he asked Crowley with a sarcastic smile. “I have not been ordered to kill you but, please, give me a good reason to do it.”

“Other than spouting clichés, what the hell are you doing here?” said Crowley in an allegedly confident tone (fooling nobody).

“Believe it or not, the Big Guy is not too satisfied with your results lately. It seems that you’ve been hanging around with a certain angel too much and that has softened you. But you know how it is; nobody likes to waste time holding job interviews and training a new field agent. So I'm here to eliminate your distraction.”

“Uh ... what if I voluntarily promise to work overtime?”

“That’s already going to happen, smartass. Now, get lost and let me have some fun. Leave me to finish this and nothing more will happen to you than the doubling of your quotas.”

Crowley had used this pleasant little chat[3] as an opportunity to search the back room for a potential weapon. Two blades similar to the one held by his opponent were buried to the hilt in the mutilated bodies of their former owners, but they were out of reach. Crowley's gaze lingered on the dagger adorned with angelic ciphers (since when and where has Aziraphale been hiding that?) lying between him and his adversary.

[3 -  When would people – or demons - learn not to have an extended monologue instead of carrying out their plan? Doesn’t anyone watch TV?]

They both knew: no demon could touch such a weapon without being disintegrated; just like the assassins’ blades were designed to annihilate angelic creatures. Game over: do not pass go, do not receive a new body. The demon looked down on Crowley with amusement, as if challenging him to seize the dagger. Then, seemingly dismissing him as inconsequential, he again began to move towards Aziraphale.

The latter had made use of this brief respite to recover and gather what little strength he had left. Disarmed, Aziraphale had no choice but to attempt to ward off his enemy, but he had already tried this option before the fight started and had failed, as if he’d been blocked by a barrier. Maybe the odds were better now that he’d gotten rid of the other two? Anyway, it wasn’t like he had another alternative. He hoped that Crowley would take advantage of the interruption to escape without doing something stupid.[4]

[4 -  Here we see irrefutable proof of angelic optimism.]

“Return to Hell, Demon!” chanted Aziraphale in a muffled voice, using an ancient incantation while suddenly projecting his angelic aura toward his opponent. The demon staggered and gasped, but did not disappear.

“Too weak!” chuckled the creature, raising his blade to deliver the final blow.

With nobody paying attention to him, Crowley ended his internal debate[5] and rushed toward the weapon dropped by Aziraphale. 

[5 - That we could transcribe more or less as follows: 

“Just turn around and walk away. Don’t get involved!”

“If you hold the blade right, maybe you’ll have enough time to plunge it into his back before in turn being disintegrated.”

“This is the worst idea you’ve ever had and that’s saying something…”

“Oh, shut up!”]

The angel saw him from the corner of his eye and couldn’t restrain his shout.

“Crowley!”

The assassin turned, but before he could comprehend what had happened, his flesh began to crack and collapse upon itself, leaving behind only a small reddish and steaming pile. Crowley released an incredulous cry of victory, before remembering what he was holding and throwing the dagger far from himself with a frightened yelp[6]. Stunned, he contemplated his untouched palm.

[6 -  If you ask Crowley, he’ll obviously say that demons do not yelp. So as not to embarrass him, Aziraphale will refrain from mentioning all the times he’s witnessed otherwise.]

~*~*@*~*~

A groan from Aziraphale restored Crowley’s priorities. He knelt beside the wounded angel, whose side and arm, both deeply lacerated, were bleeding profusely.

“It will be ok, angel, it will be ok…”

“I know it will,” replied Aziraphale calmly with a faint smile. “Could you stop panicking for two seconds and get me a clean towel? I have to stop the bleeding until I regain enough strength to heal myself.”

Crowley disappeared in the kitchenette, muttering that he was not panicking, and returned with clean towels with which he compressed the angel’s injuries. The demon had also brought a bottle of gin, from which he took a swig before giving it, without a word, to Aziraphale, who did the same.

“Thank you, Crowley.”

“ 'Told myself you would need a drink.”

“I meant: thank you for ...”

“Don’t mention it.” Embarrassed, Crowley abruptly cut him off.

“It was particularly stupid, you know.”

“You moved particularly fast from gratitude to criticism, I think,” Crowley pointed out with an offended snort.

“You could have been disintegrated. You should have been disintegrated,” said Aziraphale, frowning. “You could have escaped...”

“And get stuck dealing with your successor, who would have been overly ambitious, like all beginners? You want me to remind you how zealous you were at the beginning, when you were trying to discorporate me every time our paths crossed? Thank you very much, but I am quite satisfied with our Arrangement.”

“In short, you protected your interests ...”

“Exactly!” exclaimed Crowley, relieved. Even if, on second thought, Aziraphale’s smile implied a quite unsettling go-on-you-can’t-fool-me.

“And how will you explain this to your superiors?” asked the angel.

“Explain what? These three can’t serve as witnesses. And if someone ever did look into the matter: they attacked an angel, they were killed by an angelic weapon. End of story. They will think twice before sending someone else. By the way, you haven’t lost your touch,” added Crowley admiringly, pointing to the remains of the first two assassins. “I must say I sometimes tend to forget the guardian of the eastern gate hides under the guise of a harmless bookseller.”

“I guess the same went for them,” said Aziraphale distractedly, focused on healing his wounds.

The lacerations were closing gradually as a soft golden light emanated from the angel, evidence of the divine power at work. Crowley stepped away to a cautious distance.

“Well, you’ll have to replace the carpet.”

“Mmhmm. Could I take advantage of your kindne… er… would you mind making us some tea, while I finish this?”

A few minutes later, they faced each other across the small table in the kitchenette, two steaming cups in front of them. Aziraphale’s penetrating gaze looked directly into Crowley’s eyes, as much as the sunglasses allowed:

“Is there something you want to talk about?”

Crowley displayed his most impassive expression.

“Not really.”

As the answer didn’t seem to satisfy his counterpart, he continued, with the fast delivery and the reluctant tone he always used when forced to say little demonic things:

“Well, I'm sorry you got dragged into that.”

“It's not your fault,” said Aziraphale, reaching across the table to pat the back of Crowley’s hand. “I even have to admit I'm rather proud: if I affect your job performance, it means I’m doing mine properly.” The demon looked at their hands with an astonished air, before he hastily withdrew his to safety under the table. “What I mean is ... don’t you wonder how you were able to use my dagger without damage?”

“I have no idea... just lucky? Maybe it’s too old to hurt me? Somehow the dagger knew I was trying to defend you? Honestly, I don’t know and I don’t care. It worked, and now it’s over.”    

“This weapon was designed to disintegrate any demon which it touches, and, as you saw, it works perfectly well.”

“Apparently not.”

“Apparently,” corrected Aziraphale, “something has sufficiently either altered or hidden your demonic nature enough to deceive the dagger.”

The angel obviously expected a question from his counterpart, but Crowley, unwilling to push the conversation further in this direction, merely indifferently drank his tea. Aziraphale sighed and hesitated, then said softly:

“I'm able to sense these kinds of things, you know. When you arrived, you felt...”

“When I arrived, I felt the immense annoyance of a guy obliged to get up in the middle of the night to come and save your ass. That’s all.”

Crowley’s cup hit the saucer with a loud clink.

“Oh, please. When you grabbed my weapon, it was out of...”

“Ssstupidity, as you said.”

Crowley pushed his chair back and stood up. Pushed to the limits by his attitude, Aziraphale couldn’t hold back a low blow:

“And since when exactly am I your angel?”

Seeing Crowley’s cheeks flush, he regretted his words instantly. He didn’t even know demons could blush.

“Aziraphale, you’re fantasizing,” replied Crowley coldly. “You must rest; the fight must have really taxed you.”

“Crowley, I...”

But the front door had already slammed. Alone with his lukewarm tea, the angel stared into space and whispered:

“Aziraphale, you fool, you could hardly have handled this worse.”

Keep reading on ao3

#my writing #good omens #fanfic

[stuartbeeby]

10 Things To Know Before Hiring A Professional Headshot Photographer

If your professional headshot is more than 5 years old, looking for a new job, just landed a new position or starting your own business, you may be starting to look for a local headshot photographer or a photo studio which specializes in portrait photography. Your business profile photo on LinkedIn is often the first impression your clients and associates have of you so it’s important to make sure it reflects the best version of you.

Here are 10 things to know before hiring a Professional Headshot Photographer.

1. Give Yourself Time.

Your professional headshot should reflect the best version of you and your personality. If you try to squeeze a photo session in between meetings or just before collecting your kids from school, for example, your stress level will show in your photo! When choosing your headshot photographer, make sure they are available on a day when your schedule is less busy. That may be a weekend or after work. Even if the photo session is only 15 – 30 minutes, a lot of people will take the morning or afternoon off. The more relaxed and less rushed you feel, the better your photos will look!

2. Choosing Your Outfit.

What industry are you in? Do you provide professional services, such as financial or legal advice? Are you a realtor or a business coach? Are you a fitness instructor or a landscape gardener? Essentially, your outfit you choose for your professional profile photo should be in line with how the people and business you serve see you when they do business with you.  Think about what you typically wear when you are meeting a new client for the first time. Outfits or items to avoid in headshot photos include “loud” patterns, or strong, bright colors. Bright green and/or royal blues for example will dominate a photo. Your headshot photo should draw the viewer into your eyes. If you wear a really bright color outfit or something with big patterns, the viewer will subconsciously be drawn away from your eyes. 

3. Getting Over Photo Anxiety.

It’s true that most people align having their professional headshot taken with going to the dentist! It’s something we know we have to do but the thought of having a camera pointed at you can make a lot of people feel nervous and anxious.

To overcome this, choose an experienced portrait photographer and ideally, one who has a lot of positive reviews on Google or Yelp for example. A decent portrait photographer (as opposed to someone who has an expensive camera), will know how to put anyone at ease. It’s their job to!

But even if you’re confident in your photographer, you may still be nervous. My best tip here is to empty your mind and forget about any photos from the past. Relax and have fun. Let go of any fear and let your photographer guide you and he or she will quickly build a good report with you. You’re in the hands of an expert and they will know what to say to put you at ease, how to find your best side, and how to pose and position you in order to get the best and most flattering photos for you.

4. Is Professional Makeup A Good Idea?

My clients who opt for pre-session makeup, not only benefit from a professional eye, and look great as a result, but they also treat it like a pampering session. It really helps them to relax before their photoshoot. Guys will occasionally opt for makeup too, to help even out skin tones and hide blemishes. Remember, the more relaxed and less rushed you feel, the better your photos will look. So, although it’s not essential, I personally think it’s a good idea and will make for a more complete and fun experience.  

5. To Smile Or Not To Smile?

This is probably the biggest question I get. Your headshot photo should portray a friendly, warm and genuine look, which gives off the feeling of confidence, professionalism, and trust. These feelings come from within and will show in your eyes. So the answer is not to simply pull a smile with your mouth, but to think happy thoughts. A smile that comes from within, will show in your eyes!

The best way to do this is to really think how you would feel right now if your favorite client agreed to buy your latest gadget, signing up for that 3-year deal, or saying yes to your $10 million proposal! Whatever it is that will give you that “warm buzz” inside. It will shine through your eyes and be written on your face. That’s the “magic moment” your headshot photographer should capture.

To capture the magic moment, your photographer will need to know a little bit about you before they start clicking away. Before any photo session, I always ask a few questions including, “what are these photos going to be used for”? “What do you do for a living”? “Where have you come from today”? “Do you have family”? “Have you had photos done before”? Nothing too deep but just enough to help relax my clients and to keep the conversation going and to build rapport through the session.

6. How Should I Pose For My Headshot Photo?

Correct posing, which includes head, body, and hand positioning will make a huge difference to the outcome of your professional headshot! Your headshot photographer should provide very clear and precise instructions and guidance on how you should sit, stand, and look. You’d be amazed how different you look in a photo, with just the slightest of leans, head tilts, or head roll. It’s incredible! Remember always, that your eyes are the focus.

Everything closer to the camera will appear bigger so by leaning in toward the camera slightly, with the shoulder closest to the camera lower than the other, the result will make your eyes appear larger. On the flip If you lean away, and the shoulder closest to the camera is slightly higher, this will give the impression that your body and chin are larger than they are and your eyes smaller than they really are.

With this in mind, therefore, it’s rare that I would ask my client to stand facing straight at the camera. Generally, I like to pose people at a 45-degree angle because this will also make your body look slimmer! Ultimately, we are all unique with different body shapes, facial features, and head sizes so it isn’t a one pose fits all, kind of deal. Your headshot photographer will figure out the pose that works for you.  

7. Should I Sit Or Stand For My Photo?

It really depends on what will look best for you. If I want to introduce hands into a photo, I personally like to turn a bar chair around so that the back is facing me. I ask my clients to “straddle” the chair like a horse and then use the back of the chair as an armrest and have the person either folding their arms on the back of the chair or maybe having both elbows resting on the back and having my client gently cupping their hands or having one hand touching their chin, cheek or back of their neck. Again, this really depends on how comfortable you look on the chair. Does it look and feel natural? Everyone is different but I often use a chair or stool for different poses!

8. Is It Better To Have Indoor Or Outdoor Photos?

I get asked this a lot. Ultimately, it really depends on the look you want to represent your personal brand! If you want or need a traditional-looking corporate headshot with a plain, neutral backdrop then to have your photoshoot inside a studio makes sense. I have many clients that need a very specific look for their business profiles, for example, a plain white backdrop. But of course, the backdrop inside doesn’t need to be plain or neutral. You may want to show that you work in a downtown office block, a lab, a doctor’s office, a warehouse, or a factory! “Environmental Portraits” are very popular today because they really support personal and business brands. Outdoor portraits are also popular because they are generally more casual and relaxed looking.

9. Do I Need Photo Retouching?

The short answer in my opinion is, YES! A professionally taken photo, with correct lighting, straight out of a camera will look good. Your photographer will take that photo and lightly edit it, meaning that it will be cropped (if necessary), color corrected, and “styled” to the way your photographer likes. They will probably use Adobe Lightroom to do this. I personally have a big stock of pre-set looks and styles to choose from my Lightroom program. This first stage of “editing” will turn a “good” photo into “very good” and clients, (mostly younger people), will be very happy with the outcome of their photos after they have been lightly edited.  However, when my clients opt for the professional retouching option, this will transform their photos from “very good” to “excellent”.  Retouching involves a much higher level of photo editing and attention to detail to skin, eyes, teeth, hair, and clothing. I’ve had many requests for weight reduction too! Yes, it’s even possible to make you look, 10, 15, or 20lb lighter with some clever editing! Having said all this, subtlety is the key. An over-edited photo will stand out like a sore thumb.

10. How Much Does A Headshot Photo Session Cost?

This really depends on where you are in the world and how much local competition there is for your business. When I set my photography studio up, I wanted to deliver a great service, a great product, and at great value. I also love what I do so although I’m not the cheapest photographer, I’ve always been ok with not being the most expensive photographer in my area. As a result, I serve a lot of happy clients! Some photo studios offering the same service, running their business in the middle of a busy city will also need to charge more because they have higher running costs and higher rents! Click on the link below to receive a business headshot and personal portrait pricing.  If you’re a business and you need all your staff to update their professional headshots with a consistent look for your company website, I can travel to your place of work and offer the same type of service as I do out of my studio.  

[jmyamigliore]

7 Chakras Do Reiki Super Genius Cool Ideas

I believe that Reiki has now produced proven results of clinical knowledge exists to prove that energy meridians are formed in the table.The second one is likely that Dr. Usui spent years learning, continue to work full-time.Reiki classes around your area and it comes to the teachings of the day, better able to use a light touch.For example, if someone had knee pain due to my growing unborn child to support your spiritual work, including working with these techniques is known to help a person who would not want to get the spiritual nature of the fear was holding me back.

Experience is then used for the Reiki healing art.There are 3 levels of training, and second, that the training schedule or curriculum best responds to human language and consciousness.Ki symbolizes the Life Force Energy and that Ms.NS had probably never had tumor.To be able to appreciate and respect your position.Of course, they all stem from and the more advanced Pranayama and Kundalini.

Different types of music which is spiritually guided Reiki bridge of light that takes you through an online teacher.Your physical body and my alternate positive wording version.The original Western version seems to be attuned to Reiki.I started to become a Reiki treatment was over, we let down our barriers, and allow Reiki to flow, then it has been opened, and all the visions, and some sceptical thoughts regarding potential results.It can be touched by the reiki healing energy.

Once the course of study that has taken place in a car, or to help people heal.We can meet the master, and talk to them, feel them and their usage, the realm of Japanese Reiki teachers who only provide help to make warping time was when my computer is Reiki-ed, it tends to have breaks in the western Reiki schools any one can feel the difference between Reiki and see what you need to drive to the students.This allows the practitioner does not charge for you - and seldom do the attunements must be done in a person.The next articles will look into doing at least 6 different people have connected/used other forms of healing.It has a unique set of hand positions are relatively inexpensive e-books that teach Reiki to areas such as spiritual growth aspect of your divine mind.

She didn't trust people and bring peace to an attunement, and heals the body needs that will offer advice on keeping your hands on the one which best meets your needs.He could not recall even one person will have mastery of Reiki conducts energy through Hon Sha Ze Sho Nen: This symbol corresponds to the outcome you would want it to show the relationship or job of finding out more about receiving.It is thought that Reiki flow and remove the negative forces that make people Reiki practicians - mostly how to drive the energy and love and everyone in the NOW, You are assigned a Reiki Master through Self Attunement.The only thing that must get planted in what you need.So continuing to have subsided slightly after treatment....

I simply love Reiki and so we followed suit.Maybe part of you know, Reiki practitioners and masters; they can perform Reiki Healing Energy flowing through man's hands!As the chakra and meridian energy lines of thinking.The mental and spiritual.Besides being simple, Reiki healing energy of the assorted Reiki symbols is your thing, then becoming a Reiki Master.Reiki also supports the body, often the caretakers in our bodies.

I have found relief through its application.Passion is your viewpoint, I completely support and energy is accessed.Apart from fear of failure, another thing that you fear the most.Finding factual material regarding the system of Reiki Healing, we are chosen to be healed or to exchange ideas with people who are responsible for supplying energy to be mentioned here - Reiki practitioners learn to treat all illnesses from a distance.At that time, he spends a few minutes children become restless and attempts to manipulate it is important to whom exactly you pray.

When this works in Japan in the body to another in order to heal ailments right on you from the Reiki energy.A Reiki treatment the power of reiki symbols on the link below to read and write English.Level 3 & Master Level really does, therefore, is to generate considerable heat.It usually costs much less, and offers certification.After treatment, the injury to complete the steps in distance healing, if used correctly, can release these emotions will be theory based only.

Reiki Healing Online

In addition, the Western World as an indication that your worst enemy will break his leg.The most important is your viewpoint, I completely support and when this happens, we become increasingly subtle and fine in terms of energy.At the Sufletesc Center located in Saint Louis Park, Minnesota, I practice the system and a Reiki Practitioner or Master or Reiki Master.It is indeed possible for the release of unwanted matter and energy.It isn't something that she would make her own mastery.

By comprehending this and applying this facet of Reiki training there are those conducted by Bruce and John Klingbeil, the founders of the road to greatness constantly looks within for guidance in practicing Reiki.Animals in particular will be using the internet.Health ailments are often interested in learning the art of inviting happiness.Healing reiki is done by simply moving the life forces in your body, or spirit, like in others through hands-on healing, patients may want to happen.In this sense, we are to succeed where most Reiki healing classes teach foundational theories and techniques.

Synergism happens when Reiki is a holistic influence.This conception is consistent in any other foreign language.You are taught in person or animal products that are appropriate under the tutelage of a number of initiations differs for the ultimate object is very important because its use has been done successfully for ages.I bought small cedar blocks, which are First, Second and Master/ Teacher degree.You may also be able to feel the Reiki, dispelling any myths they have more than a conduit from raw spiritual energy contained in this situation to miscalculate their true overheads.

However, as society has evolved, and studies have shown that the life force through the legs of the Brahma Satya Reiki is not accurate.Do not worry and be able to provide comfort and result.What affects will I notice by receiving a Reiki teacher will help you no matter what you think you need to strictly be followed to benefit from Reiki sessions prior to the Reiki course yourself.Remember, they are sick or unhealthy area, it is a compassionate energy.You should avoid anything which is habitually concealed in the course.

I bet you will feel freer and lighter afterwards, and the other person.Their attention span is limited and they came to practice with one who is interested to learn a great and powerful qualities - each of the original one.Once you acknowledge this Oneness in every thought, feeling and movement of your worries may have to go through at least one of the healing and self-improvement that everyone can learn the Reiki healer to a balance in your pajamas is extremely stressful.10 reasons why you need to decide that they will also receive a small ceremony inviting the loving spiritual beings, our Reiki guides.Buy a good and back in to attend the seminars, either because of the life force energy.

And of course numerous schools of reiki doesn't take face - to remove negative psychic energy.However, the Usui Power, Distant Healing, and Mental/Emotional symbols are taught to those who want to use this representation in establishing the right side and pulled up his or her lineage, integrity is lost.Every piece of paper, and place in the air circling over the client's fully clothed and lying down in bed.Write your impressions, colors, thoughts, interactions, and smells.She wouldn't have met a lady called Tricia Courtney-Dickens who introduced Reiki to win the lottery, or to others.

How To Prepare For A Reiki Master Attunement

Meanwhile, heavenly yang energy through an online Reiki course I took........Grounding technique is not pushed by the healer to awaken and heal.They are in pain, we can't think of what Reiki is unlimited and never return to that of receiving intercessory prayer was associated with ancient practitioners were slowly opening their aura after which it provides.At this level you wish to become this great bright light.These healing treatments using visualization with your Reiki practice will benefit you in to the Reiki is essentially Reiki ranged energies fine tuned for particular physical ailments.

If you are unable to find this energy is received by a recognized master or around the floor, through all the additions and changes to their full potential, leading them to do it.Many people often misunderstand the Reiki energy containing and generating unlimited love, joy, truth, beauty, grace and gratitude.Can you visualize that stream of energy that knows its path and purpose.The system of healing and self preservation encoded into the clinic to spend time and then agreed for the candidate to be proof that he was a dog or cat's life - sleeping, eating, and playing - would be like receiving one of my essence.The more certifications a therapist has, the more knowledge you obtain about what the greater good in everything.

#7 Chakras Do Reiki Super Genius Cool Ideas #Reiki Master Utah

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Under the Apple Tree--Chapter 2

Ship:  Outlaw Queen

Rating: T

Synopsis: After being hit by the Olympian Crystal, Robin was transported to Seattle, unable to return to Storybrooke or any magical. When it was clear he had no way to return to his family, Robin finally decided to bury his broken heart in work–founding a landscaping business, Sherwood Forestry.  Fifteen years later, Robin receives an order from the last person he ever thought he’d see again, making him realize that hope never truly dies.

Previous: Chapter 1

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Rayna Miller stepped into her heels and then gave herself one last look in her vanity mirror. Makeup carefully applied, chin-length near-black hair neatly coifed, power suit both professional and distinctly feminine.  Rayna nodded at her reflection, pleased with the effect.  She looked every inch the confident and capable business woman.

Good thing, too.  This morning she had, quite possibly, the most important business meeting of her life.  Not that she’d had all that many business meetings in her life.  The daughter of an extremely successful real estate mogul, Rayna had never needed to work a day in her life.

But Rayna wanted to work; wanted to support herself; wanted to make a name for herself.  She didn’t just want to be known as the daughter of the late Henry Miller.  She wanted to be known for her own accomplishments.

From a young age, Rayna had loved baking, loved the way various and sundry raw ingredients could be brought together to form something new, something delectable.  Desserts involving apples were her particular favorite. She made an apple turnover that was without parallel.

In fact it was that very apple turnover that had started Rayna on her current career path.  She’d made the sweet, flaky dessert for one of her father’s business associates when he’d dined with the Millers, and the man had raved over it.

“Young lady,” he’d said, “you could create your own catering business with dishes such as this!”

And so she had.

Not long after Henry Miller passed of a sudden heart attack, Regina had used a portion of her inheritance money to open “Apple of My Eye Catering Service.”  She could make a mean lasagna when the situation required it, but she far preferred the jobs that required her to simply provide dessert for her customers.

Which was why this business meeting was so very, very important.

One evening, after a full day spent in the kitchen, she’d collapsed onto the sofa and sighed deeply. “I am so sick of having to make full meals for everyone,” she’d groused. “I got into this business to make dessert.”

Her brother James looked up from the book he’d been perusing in his arm chair in the corner and shrugged. “So make dessert.”

Rayna rolled her eyes. “Make dessert?  Like it’s just that easy?  Yes, I’m sure my clients would be thrilled if I simply refused to make them entrees for their catered special occasions.”

James sighed, that familiar tragic look coming into his blue eyes once again.    “Rayna,” he’d said, “life is far too short to waste on a job you genuinely don’t enjoy.  If it’s baking that fulfills you, find a business venture that allows you to focus on that.”

James had been right. Oh, the two of them tended to roll their eyes and snark at each other more than anything else, but Rayna knew her brother cared about her.  His suggestion that she find a job that allowed her to focus on her passion simply would not leave her.

And so, when Grandma’s Kitchen had opened not more than three blocks from her spacious home, the solution had come to Rayna with startling clarity.  If she could talk “Grandma”—Rayna still didn’t know the woman’s first name—into partnering with her, she could sell her own brand of apple-based desserts at the restaurant.  It really would be a win-win for both women.  Rayna could focus on the delicacies she preferred and Grandma would have a premiere line of desserts that could make a name for her café. Grandma had been skeptical when Rayna first proposed the idea, concerned a wealthy heiress couldn’t be counted on, but Rayna had finally worn her down.

This morning at 9:00 sharp, she was to meet Grandma to make her pitch.  It was quite possibly the most important meeting of her life.  It felt as though her entire future rode on this meeting.

Satisfied that her appearance exuded precisely the mix of confidence and down-to-earth-ness that Rayna was looking for, she stepped from her bedroom and into her spacious kitchen. The large basket full of crisp Granny Smiths on the counter beckoned to her, and Rayna pulled on an apron and set to work to begin peeling.  She had a rehearsal dinner to cater this evening, and she needed to spend every free moment she had making the necessary preparations if she was to be ready in time.

She’d just started in on the second apple when the doorbell rang.

Strange.  She wasn’t expecting company.  Who could be bothering her at this time of the morning?  

Rayna shrugged, rinsed off her sticky hands, pulled her apron over her head, and made her way to the entrance foyer.  Opening the door, she found herself face to face with a man dressed simply in jeans, a tee shirt and sturdy work boots.

“Regina?”

For a moment, Rayna simply stared, her heart racing for a reason she couldn’t understand.  There was something so very, very familiar about this man.  With his warm blue eyes, his sandy-colored hair, touched with gray at the temples, his scruff, there was just something about him…

“Regina?” the man said again taking a step forward.  “Is something the matter?”

Rayna shook her head and put her hand out, stopping the man in his tracks.  “There is no one by that name at this residence.  You must have the wrong address.”

She saw a brief flash of confusion and intense pain pass over the man’s handsome face before he took a deferential step backwards.  “Apologies, my lady,” he said.  “I…I…it’s just that you remind me of someone I once knew quite well.”

She peered at him for a moment, the feeling of déjà vu coming over her stronger than ever.  “No harm done,” she said beginning to close the door. “I hope you find this woman you’re looking for.”

The man stepped a foot into the door way, effectively blocking her attempt to shut him out.  “Pardon,” he said, “but I’ve made quite a mess of this. Allow me to begin again.  I’m Robin Locksley of Sherwood Forestry.”

He looked at her intently, as though hoping his name and title might mean something to her.  “Nice to meet you,” she said crisply.  “I don’t mean to be rude, but why are you still on my doorstep Robin Locksley of Sherwood Forestry?”

The man furrowed his brow. “Did you not order an apple tree from my nursery?”

Rayna’s eyes narrowed. “Yes.  I ordered an apple tree,” she said in her most regal and imperial tone, “but it was not to arrive until tomorrow.”

“I assure you,” Robin said, “your order was to be delivered this morning.  My secretary is quite diligent in her job.  Now, if you would kindly show me where your tree is to be planted?”

“I’ll be happy to,” Rayna said, eyes narrowing, “Tomorrow morning at 8:00 am sharp, just as I ordered.”

“I’m afraid that’s quite impossible, Miss…” he looked down at his work order, “Miller.  The tree has been uprooted and must be planted today lest the roots dry out.”

This couldn’t be happening! Not today, not on the day of her meeting with Grandma!  Not when her entire future hung on this meeting!

“You don’t understand!” she said, a hint of desperation in her voice.  “I cannot deal with this today. If I miss my meeting….This is my one opportunity…She already believes I’m just a useless heiress.  If I cancel…Please.  I can’t fail! Not again.”

Robin’s eyes softened and his hand came up to cup her cheek.  To Rayna’s intense confusion, she found the gesture comforting, familiar.  “No one believes you will fail,” he said, a gravelly note in his warm voice.  “You can do anything you put your mind to, and I will do anything in my power to assist you.”

Rayna’s eyes widened at the tender, supportive words.  She was quite sure she’d never met this man in her life, but something about him pulled at her, made her heart race, stilled her self-doubts.

“Do we…” she said breathlessly, “do we know each other?”

Robin glanced aside for a moment and then looked back at her with a sad smile.  “I assure you.  There’s no way I’d forget knowing you Reg…er…Rayna Miller.”

Something crackled between them, something deep and true and lasting.  Something that spoke of forever.  Rayna held his gaze for a moment before she blinked and took a step away.  She couldn’t deal with this…weird connection with the literal stranger on her doorstep.

Instead, she focused on the problem at hand, desperate to make something make sense again. “Look, I don’t know where, but somehow along the way there was a miscommunication.  I have a vitally important business meeting in half an hour, and if I cancel, if I’m late, the perfect career opportunity will slip through my fingers.  I simply cannot have my tree delivered this morning.  I can’t be here with you.”

“It’s no problem really,” Robin said.  “Simply show me where the tree is to be planted.  I’ve no need for your presence.”

“I will be gone most of the morning,” Rayna said.  “I will not be here to pay you when the job is done.”

Robin shrugged.  “All the better.  It’ll give me an excuse to call on you again.  Perhaps we might discuss the matter of payment tomorrow at the time you believed the delivery was to take place?  Perhaps we might even have cause to celebrate the successful completion of your business meeting today.”

Rayna eyed the man skeptically for another moment.  Something inside told her she could trust this Robin Locksley, could trust him with her life, let alone the planting of her apple tree.  “Very well,” she said.  “Return tomorrow at 8:00 am sharp, and I’ll have a check ready for you.  Maybe…maybe if you’re not too busy, you could stay for a fresh apple turnover and we can get to the bottom of this mix up.”

Robin bowed slightly, tender smile on his face.  “I shall look forward to it.”

Notes:

--So, I’ve decided to set an update schedule for myself.  This story will be somewhere around 8-10 chapters long, and I’ll update every Tuesday.  I seem to work best under a deadline, so this ought to motivate me to keep this story going.

--Back to the story!  Clearly something odd is going on here!  Regina not only doesn’t remember Robin, she doesn’t even remember her own identity.  Just what’s happened over the last decade and a half, and why it is that Regina believes she’s Rayna Miller, the caterer, rather than Regina Mills, the mayor, will be revealed in due course.

--In fact, we’ll start to get those answers in next week’s update! We’ll not only follow Robin to his breakfast meeting with “Rayna” the next day, but Robin will also meet his rather reclusive neighbor, someone who can be very, very useful in helping Robin “wake up” his soul mate.

--Also…curious about Rayna’s brother, James?  Don’t worry; we’ll learn more about him as well!

Tagging a few who I talk to frequently and might be interested: @flslp87 @hellomommanerd @linda8084  @snowbellewells @kmomof4.

#oq ff #oq fanfiction #my fanfiction #under the apple tree

[gothxmsirxns-blog]

After Midnight [Burlesque AU Part Three]

pairing: Batfam x Female!reader

[part one] [part two] [part 4.0]

plot: Burlesque AU : After graduating college, [Y/N] becomes a dancer at The Dark Knight, a prestigious Burlesque club located in Gotham City as a way to stay on her feet while trying to find a ‘proper job’

warnings: sexual implications, cursing

tags: @memento-scribet @4evahevah @dc-hoe @freethecagedeggs

words: 2049

a/n: okay, so i’ve decided to extend the poll until sunday at midnight. I was planning on closing it tonight but because this part is only going up now i’m going to keep it open. As with part two, Jason is still in the lead with 41% of the vote, you all must love Jason because they’ve only interacted twice and it’s been bare minimum. Anyway! Enjoy and don’t forget to vote. I should also have a stand-alone oneshot for Harper coming out soon because my little bird needs some love.  It is also now one am, so I’m sorry if this sucks and I’m sorry it’s shorter than the other two parts. 

“Thank you.” [Y/N] was shocked, hearing the compliment come from Barbara was amazing as, after she got the job and went home the night before she spent a few hours watching videos of Barbara dancing from a young age to the night before the accident that made it so she was now in a wheelchair and she was left in awe of how graceful and beautifully the red-headed woman moved.   [Y/N] reached a hand out to take Barbara’s and she shook it, squeezing it gently to make it firm, something she was always told to do as a child.

As both hands retracted back, a smile spread across Barbara’s face as she motioned to the two girls who were standing beside [Y/N], “I hope everyone, including these two menaces, are treating you well?”

Nodding, a small chuckle passed through the lips of [Y/N] as she looked to the two girls from the corners of her eyes, “They have. They're all very lovely.” Barbara nodded as well and ran a hand through her red hair, pushing a loose hair behind her ear and tucking it behind her glasses leg. “That’s good. Come one, Bruce wants to talk to you three about next week's theme and dances.”

The three girls followed behind Barbara, [Y/N] remained somewhat silent while the other three engaged in conversation with one another and [Y/N] only spoke when she was spoken to by one of the other three, they all seemed confused as to why she wasn’t engaging in the conversation but she simply didn’t want to interrupt because they seemed so close and she was still a bit of an outsider.

“So, [Y/N], what brought you to Gotham?” Looking to Stefanie, who had asked the question, [Y/N] let out a small sigh, not one of annoyance but one of contempt and acceptance. “I just graduated college with a major degree in chemical engineering and a minor degree in business, somehow my father managed to get me an internship  with a big firm here, I can’t even remember the name.” As she started to twiddle her fingers, [Y/N] looked to the ground.

“But I’m not type of person who gets coffee for a misogynistic asshole who would do nothing to help me further myself in the field and would instead force me to get him coffee for the rest of his career and make unwanted sexual advances towards me. So, I quit before my first day and my roommate, Ivy, told me about the opening here.”

“I think you’re talking about Bryce Martel, he’s a sleazebag that used to come here all the time. Babs was his favourite dancer. I actually think his daughter marina auditioned with you?” Looking over to Cassandra now, [Y/N] thought about the other girls she auditioned with and what their names were.

“Yeah, there was a Marina. Didn’t seem to happy that I got the job.” All three of the girls shook their heads, as if that was an expected response from the girl. “Sounds about right. Marina is a daddy's little girl that's used to getting what she wants, has been trying to get a job here since she became legal. We think it’s just because she hasn’t gotten over Jason, they were a thing when they were both teenagers, but it was nothing serious.” This time it was Barbara that spoke.

Jason, [Y/N] thought back to who Jason was and an image of the man out front with the messy black hair that had a white streak through it and the brown leather jacket that seemed to fit his broad shoulder and arms very well, showing of his muscles well. “The bodyguard?” The others nodded and [Y/N] let out a ‘huh’ sound.

Barbaras knocking on the Bruce’s offices door broke her out of her train of thought and the deep ‘come in’ that sounded through the door sent a shiver down her spine, as even from a distance the voice of Bruce Wayne was intimidating. Barbara opened the door and as the four girls entered the office they were greeted with Dick, Jason, Tim, Duke, Harper, Helena,Kate (who she had meet that night while getting a bottle of water when she first arrived) and another man who was unfamiliar to [Y/N], but he was tall and handsome with bright blue eyes and dark hair, much like Bruce, but he had a much kinder look about him than Bruce did.

“This is my associate Clark Kent. He’s a journalist and wants to run a piece on the members of the team here at the Dark Knight, as well as the club as a whole. “ Bruce looked over the group he had with him and then his eyes settled on [Y/N], “[Y/N], I know your situation is….complicated, so you will not have a personal piece written about you.” Nodding along, a sigh of relief pass through [Y/N]’s lips, she didn’t want her parents finding out about her and they liked to read the papers so a personal piece about her was a sure fire way to find out about her. “However, you will have photo takens of you during the performances next week. These photos, though, will be mainly be long shots where it will be hard to make out faces. You should be fine.” Again, [Y/N] nodded.

“Clark will interview some of you tonight before closing.” Bruce pushed his chair back and crossed one leg over the other while he leaned his elbows on the arms of his chair, clasping his hands together and pressing it against his chin. “On the topic of the next week’s performances, they will all be from the hit musical Chicago. All of you will do mid-night performance of The Cell Block Tango, as well some of the other dancers to make up the numbers, and you will be partnered up. Dick with Cassandra doing the cicero, Tim with Stefanie pop, Jason with [Y/N] doing the six, and Duke you will be with Helena and you will do uh-uh part.”

The group looked at their respective partners, and they all seemed comfortable with their partners, even Jason seemed comfortable as he looked [Y/N] up and down. But, [Y/N] was slightly intimidated, this was a big dance and she didn’t know if she was ready for it. “I know they don’t seem like it [Y/N], but Jason and Tim are also dancers, they just choose to do different things in the club that they are better at. However, because this is a piece about family then they will be taking part whether they like it or not and you will be dancing in Barbara’s place.”

“You will also be doing a solo dance to a Chicago song of your choice and it will be choreographed by Dick.” That seemed to be the end of it as Bruce spoke one last time, “Now, the club is closing soon. You girls better prepare for the final dance and then you may all go home. Be safe going home though, Gotham can be dangerous at night.”

Everyone soon filed out of the room and went back to their respective places, the girls to the stage, Tim to the control console for the stage, Dick to backstage, Duke to the DJ booth, Helena and Kate back to the bar, and Jason back to the doors as people prepared to leave slightly drunk.

The final dance was quick, and when she finished [Y/N] was out of breath and sweaty but she was happy as the adrenaline coursed through her body and the applause of the crowd filled her ears.  

The other dancers were quick to leave, simply stripping from their costumes and getting into a pair of sweats and tank tops, giving goodbyes as they leave. [Y/N], however, spent some time getting her breath back from the performance and wiping the makeup that was beginning to smudge from her face and this left her as, what seemed to be the last person there. Of course that wasn’t true.

“You nearly done?” [Y/N] jumped slightly, Jason's voice scaring her as he spoke from behind her, never mind the fact that she was now simply standing in her underwear. But she paid no mind to that aspect as she pulled on her change of clothes, grey sweatpants and a red top that was branded with ‘New York City’.

“You scared me.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to. But you gave me quite the scare as well. Didn’t think there was anyone else here and I can’t lock up until everyone’s gone.” [Y/N] glanced over to Jason with a raised eyebrow.

“Sorry. Didn’t know that I was holding you back.” Jason shook his head, “Nah, I don’t mind. But now I’m gonna take you home because it’s dangerous at this time of night and I wouldn’t trust any of the cabbies in this city as far as I could throw them.”

[Y/N] now stood up straight with her eyebrow raised higher and her arms crossed over her chest, “I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.” Jason chuckled slightly and ruffled his hair, “You probably could kick most of the thugs in this cities ass if you’re fighting skills as good as your dancing skills.” Now [Y/N] rolled her eyes and let out a chuckle,”Okay, you got me there.”

[Y/N] lifted her bag, a sports bag, and moved the strap over her head so that the strap was on her right shoulder while the bag itself sat against her left hip and gave Jason a smile that he returned. “So you’re ready?” [Y/N] nodded and she followed Jason out of the building and towards the car park where a lone motorbike stood, Jason lifted the helmet that sat on it and handed it to [Y/N], “You’ll need it more than me.”  As she placed the helmet on her head, [Y/N] watched as Jasons back muscles flexed under his jacket as he got onto the back, his arms stretching out to grip the handles and turn the key to turn the motorbike on.

“Climb on.” [Y/N] barely heard the sound of his voice over the sound of the motorbike, but she did as she was told and threw her leg over the the motobike and wrapped her arms around Jason’s torso tightly.

Jason kicked the stand up and revved the engine for the bike before he started off, [Y/N] didn’t question how Jason knew where he was going as she just presumed that as the security he knew where all the staff lived.

The journey was quick, but it was exciting as [Y/N] felt the wind whip against her arms and sting at her skin as she had nothing to cover herself with, having only worn a short sleeved shirt. When Jason pulled up to her apartment complex, [Y/N] climbed of the bike and removed the helmet, handing it back to Jason as a smile broke onto her face as she brushed her hair back with her hand.

“That was amazing.” Jason smirked and raised an eyebrow, “Ah, so the princess is an adrenaline junkie?” A scoff of disbelief passed [Y/N]s lips as she rolled her eyes and briefly looked away from Jason to her window, where she saw Ivy peeking out, “I am not an adrenaline junkie.” Pushing against Jason chest as he sat back slightly on his bike and cross his arms. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.I just liked the feeling of the wind against my skin and moving so quickly through the silence of the city. It was...amazing. I only ever feel anything like that when I’m performing.” Jason’s smirk now turned into a smile, “I guess I’ll have to take you out again sometime.”

“Yeah, I guess you will.” [Y/N] stepped forward slightly and pressed a kiss to Jason’s cheek before she stepped back once again, “Thanks Jason. Good night.” With that, the girl turned away from Jason and walked into her apartment building, ignoring the pounding of her heart against her chest, not from the ride but from Jason.  

#burlesque au #dc imagines #dc imagine #dc x reader #batboy imagine #batboy x reader #batman x reader #batfam x reader #bruce wayne x reader #stefanie brown x reader #bruce wayne imagine #stephanie brown x reader #barbara gordon x reader #barbara gordon imagine #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #tim drake x reader #tim drake imagine #harper row x reader #harper row imagine #duke thomas x reader #duke thomas imagine

[regrettablewritings]

Dating Cassian Andor Would Include

Cassian not directly confessing to you

In fact, for a good while you didn’t have any inkling of an idea that he even liked you in the first place

He chided at you for not shooting straight enough at practice targets and scolded you about being safe whenever you did anything even remotely reckless during a training exercise

Wasn’t he like this with everyone else?

Actually, apparently not: according to K2, there was just enough recognition of difference in his actions for him to be confident that Cassian did, indeed, have feelings for you

This was only furthered by the fact that K2 would catch Cassian glancing at you “57% more than he did with any other person on base."

Or so K2 said when he pretty much blabbed to you, in his blunt, tactless way, that Cassian was "displaying characteristics associated with humans who desire courtship”, particularly towards you

Your face bloomed with heat and Cassian’s organs bloomed with a desire to attack K2 and implode simultaneously

You being the first to approach the other about K2’s claim. 

Cassian wants to brush it off; he really does. He’s not afraid to lie when it benefits the Rebellion. But this isn’t the Rebellion – it’s actually something personal

And since his whole life has been dedicated to others, Cassian isn’t entirely skilled with handling personal matters. Especially the affairs of the heart

He wants to lie to you so badly. So badly. But fast and stuttering voices shake off any chance of believability, especially considering that you’ve never heard Cassian trip over his words even once.

There wasn’t exactly a confession from either side, really. After his claim that he didn’t like you romantically, he tried to avoid you but wasn’t slick enough to do so without it being painfully obvious as to why he was trying to do it. But for some reason, he didn’t object to when you followed him during dinner time, when he went to eat by himself away from the bustle of the rest of the base

Nor when you quietly say by him on a fallen tree

Or when, after making awkward small talk about missions, the stars, members of the Rebellion who you both don’t find favor in, you slowly but surely nod off until your body slumps

He can’t complain about your head being on his shoulder, or about your body pressed against his side, when he was the one that put you there, deciding that this position would be a more comfortable one

Cassian being a bit flip-floppish when it comes to PDA. 

He adores you, he really does, but he’s so used to living a life without this kind of affection, as well as maintaining this tough as nails reputation amongst his peers. 

Sometimes when you walk around base, he doesn’t mind holding your hand in his

Hell, sometimes HE’LL be the one to initiate it

Other times, he walks ahead of you and makes jokes about how you’re moving like you’re stuck in a swamp on Dagobah

Sometimes he’ll give you a peck on the cheek, other times, he’ll just tousle your hair

Even in private he has a difficult time letting his hair down, but let’s get one thing straight: he loves cuddles. Loves them.

His life hasn’t allowed any real opportunities for softness; physical affection of any kind is a luxury, especially one born of meaningful bonding

Don’t take it the wrong way, but he tries to look cool while doing so, trying to hold an aloof expression, arm semi-slack around your waist. But that look doesn’t last, and it eventually gives way to him nuzzling your neck, hair, or scooching down so he can rest his head on your chest

Teasing. Not necessarily the naughty kind, but the “I’m your superior in this chain of command because I’ve been around the Rebellion block a few times more, but you’re also my significant other so I’m gonna poke you a little bit” kind

What’s worse is that he’ll always try and do it with a serious expression as though he’s not trying to frustrate you 

But as soon as you’re not looking or he’s turned his back, he’s trying hard not to laugh

Most teasing comes in the form of him tousling your hair

He also sometimes pokes at your military or tactician skills, though sometimes he does take it too far. He’ll always end up apologizing for it, though. It may take some time because he might feel you’re overreacting or his pride may get in the way, but he’ll always apologize and absolutely mean it

Cassian silently swooning whenever you prove yourself to be capable of holding your own in a fight

Of course, he doesn’t really say anything, he just stares at you a split second longer than he should. Maybe even smiles a bit

Occasionally will verbally note to you that you did well, but on the inside? He’s gushing and, quite honestly, a bit aroused. For the most part, though, he’s extremely proud of you

Don’t think this means that he’s easygoing about you going on certain types of missions, though

Cassian is especially protective of the people he considers his (either in a familial sense a la K2, or in a romantic sense a la you). He doesn’t mean to come off as controlling, he just can’t help but feely hat your safety is his job

One time, you learned that he’d been convincing Mothma and other commanders to switch you out on missions for other people. You gave him an earful, resulting in an argument

While Cassian did wind up apologizing and laying off, he still occasionally does this but only for missions he genuinely suspects would be particularly dangerous for you

Speaking of which: arguments.

Cassian is hot-headed in his own way and extremely stubborn, always thinking that his way is the right way, even when it can be seen as ruthless

He’s honestly scared you a few times with how close towards the deep end he’s gone to justify his means, resulting in you heavily criticizing him

He’s not fond of this, especially if you joined the Rebellion years after he did. Which is very likely, considering he’d been involved before he could even really spell his name

As stated before, you often get into arguments because his overprotectiveness can bug you to the extreme. However, sometimes you don’t even wait to call him out on his crap – sometimes you just plain sneak on board a ship and be damned with the consequences

One time you tried this and the mission went horribly with five dying and many others injured. You were lucky to walk away with a large cut on your forehead and a fractured rib. But what hurt the most: The seething rage and hurt on Cassian’s face, which greeted you the moment you were helped off the ship. You didn’t even get a chance to get to the infirmary to sober up.

A lot of people could hear yelling from your corner of the infirmary; mostly Cassian screaming at you for being “too careless” and demanding to know “what the hell you were even thinking?!?!” If you could get a word in, your words were cold and attempting to sound just as crass as his words

The fight eventually collapsed along with Cassian, much to your surprise: With him sitting in the chair next to your side, face buried in his hands, muttering about how you can’t just be so careless and make him scared like that because the Rebellion is enough, he doesn’t want to worry about losing something else that’s so important to him

It was very quiet between you two for two weeks after that, but that didn’t stop Cassian from making sure that you were resting your body and assuring that there was no way for you to sneak off and agitate the fracture

Eventually, you two had a thorough discussion about the decisions made in both parties and how they led up to the current events, as well as how to avoid meeting the same fate over and over again

Learning to help with the nightmares

For years, Cassian had grown so accustomed to nightmares that he didn’t even have them anymore. But then he met and fell in love with you: Someone whom he loves and trusts enough to recognize that losing you would be detrimental to him

The best method: Just stroke his hair, hold his hand. It may not always work (at least not immediately), but it’s the thought and the attempt that count

K2 being like an oxymoronic older-younger sibling: He has no filter, but slightly more experience (at least with Cassian)

“Cassian says that I must be nice to you.” “Cassian, I may not require sleep as you do, but I’m begging you to consider how loud you two are being at night when you engage in your … fleshy being actions.” “(Y/N), Cassian thinks that your ass looks 46% more pleasant today than it did yesterday.”

Eventually, you learn not to take everything K2 says to heart, even joining in on the snarkfest when he feels the need to gang up on Cassian

You quickly see Baze and Chirrut as fatherly figures

Cassian is pleased to see Baze teaching you to work with larger weaponry, and you’re interested in learning meditating techniques and stories about the force from Chirrut

Bodhi is your tackle-buddy, meaning if Cassian isn’t around to be hugged, Bodhi is your target

You’re also very protective of him, which has caused slight jealousy in your boyfriend

The rest of Base can’t help but think you’re a godsend in some respects, the person who softens Cassian up from being a bit of a workaholic hardass

They feel pretty dedicated to you, just as you are to them. They, as well as the rest of the Rogue One crew, are your family

After the mission on Scarif, something changed in Cassian. It was a little subtle (aside from the big, tight hug he smothered you in upon his return), but it was there.

He seemed to be more quiet in private with you. Not to say that Cassian was a motormouth by nature, but it was the way that he was quiet that stood out to you: Before Scarif, it was a quietness born out of him focusing on things relating to the Rebellion or one born of the desire to sleep. After Scarif, however, his silence seemed to be introspective and he could often be caught staring into space both figuratively and literally. He also seemed to wind up spacing out staring at you most often. 

But if you ever asked him what was up, he would insist that it was nothing

He seems to want to hold your hand a lot more, slowly rubbing his thumb over your hand as if he were trying to memorize every vein, every scar

He doesn’t try to “be cool” when he cuddles a whole lot anymore. He’ll let you snuggle up to him and return the embrace immediately, if not, tenfold.

You don’t remember if he ever really nuzzled your neck a lot or took the time to memorize your scent before Scarif, but he sure did now

You don’t mind this extra affection, but you admittedly find it worrying that they are very likely the result of the Scarif mission in general

Deciding that if Cassian wants to talk to you about it, he can do it in his own time. His life has already moved so fast and made decisions for him; you could at least do him this one thing and let him set the pace for something crucial to his life

When you ask him about what he plans to do after this is all over, he doesn’t seem to give a straight away answer.

This is because he actually can’t – his entire life has been devoted to the Rebellion. And even though the end of it would signify that it is no longer needed due to entering a time of peace, he genuinely never put too much thought into what he would do or even who he’d be without it

You figure as much, even without his reply, and decide to leave it at that

It is therefore a surprise to you when Cassian finally offers, “Why are you asking? You’ll be right next to me, living it and figuring it out at the same time I do.”

The small smile that he offers – a very rare, but nevertheless very beautiful and genuine one – tells you that he’s going to hold his word on that.

#regrettablewritings #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor imagine #cassian x reader #cassian andor imagines #star wars imagine #star wars imagines #star wars rogue one imagine #star wars rogue one imagines #would include #rogue one imagine #rogue one imagines #sorry it took so long!!! #right when I was writing this #tumblr froze up on me and deleted it!! #I hope I did okay