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internalsealpanic · 2 years

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Fuck, Marry, Kill: Not a Guide to Healthy Relationships

summary: Fuck, marry, kill is a sure fire way to figure out Batman’s secret identity and yours by extension. a/n: based on this and is an unnecessary prequel to intervention. No need to read either it just gives you context to my headspace when writing this. warnings: Multiple batman crack pairings, explicit sexual language involving both villains and heroes, and shitty understanding of Atlantean biology. An ungodly amount of crack.

"Fuck, Marry, Kill."

You blink, bringing one of Dick's emergency juice boxes away from your lips with a pop. "What the fuck does that have to do with Harold 'The Space Ace' Jordan hitting on me?"

Bruce takes a long sip of his coffee. A stalling tactic if you've ever seen one. You roll your wrist along with your eyes. Bruce quirks his lip and tries to hide it with his coffee but the movement of his face is less than a minute. "Graphic detail or cliff notes?"

You slide your eyes to the stack of folders on your side of the batcomputer. "Cliff notes."

His cliff notes began with the sentence, "There was a lull during one of the Justice league meetings." With that, any intention you had of perusing over the files while listening to Bruce's dry commentary was gone. With a few pauses for your benefit, and an oversimplification of a few facts and conversations, Bruce had laid before you a comedy of errors resulting in the following order of events: the founding Justice League Members playing Fuck, Marry, Kill while listening to some gossip about Brucie Wayne, how that had resulted in what Bruce thought was the perfect opportunity to reveal his secret identity, Clark metaphorically withering to ash, Barry wanting to vibrate into the speed force, Arthur awkwardly denying what he'd said, Diana just staring at Bruce, J'onzz not understanding the problem, and Hal flashing through an existential crisis, acceptance, then figuring out your secret identity.

He does this all without looking away from the screen.

It takes most of Dick's emergency juice boxes to get you through the explanation. When he finishes, You blink again. A little more stupidly this time. You open your mouth then close it and it takes you a frustrating amount of tries to even get a word out. Bruce couldn't really blame you.

"Just so we're clear, this is all true. All of it."

Bruce hums in affirmation. There's a wrinkle in his eyes that further confirms it.

You set the empty juice box in the container with the rest of the empty juice boxes. Tipping your chair back, you search for the correct words. You flap your hands a little and you hear a choke of laughter from Bruce's direction which makes you snap your attention to him. You frown then start slowly. "So you let your friends— Don't give me that look. Fine. Colleagues vividly describe how they would raw your rich boy ass then you proceeded to tell them that you are, in fact, Bruce 'Very Fuckable for a Spoiled Brat' Wayne." Bruce snorts at the clearly derisive mimicry of Hal's voice. "Am I getting this right?"

"Mmhmm."

You tip your body back a little more, looking up at the ceiling. "You got a recording, yeah?" You ask, angling your head towards him.

Bruce sets down his mug, giving you the do I look like an amateur face. You flick your eyes to one of the windows on the screen and yep, it's being backed up.

"Is this what you were doing this entire time?" You ask, squinting at him. He picks the mug up again and slurps instead of answering. You chuck one of Alfred's bagels at him.

He catches it, like an asshole. "I've been multitasking," Bruce says, mouth full of bagel.

"I'm going to tell Alfred you've been talking with your mouthful this entire time," you say, picking up one of the folders.

"I doubt he'll believe you."

"He will. He believed me about the garden snakes."

A bitter look crosses Bruce's face. "He won't," is all he manages to say.

"He will."

"He won't."

"He will."

"He won't."

The volley turns into a soothing back and forth that fills the cave as you two submerge yourself back into the case.

It's probably the tenth suspect in your file that jogs your memory.

"I get access, right?"

Bruce peels away from the screen, confused.

You know Bruce well enough to know that he's not playing dumb. "The JL meeting. Yanno, the one where Clark wants to pound you like raw beef?"

You commend Bruce for his mastery over his ability to flush and his ability to cave to your terrible negotiation strategy.

"Need I remind you that you compromised my identity because of that stunt?" It is technically phrased as a question. Technically. But there's the underlying threat of I will never shut up about it and Bruce caves to that.

"You only get access because you're helping me with this incredibly tedious case."

You stifle a laugh.

You plug your laptop in so you could use your earphones and possibly save Bruce some productivity. It becomes a fool's errand when your sniggering becomes harder and harder to control with every graphic description of how each member describes how they would either marry Bruce for the money or fuck (either gently like Arthur or roughly like Hal). You have to cover your mouth at the unnecessary graphic detail each of them goes into.

"Do you just enjoy people's misery or do you enjoy mine particularly?" Bruce asks, pouring another cup of coffee for himself, having given up the ghost.

You take in a long slow breath, shucking your earphones. "I enjoy the misery of the masses but yours is a special flavor," you say, waving for him to give you a cup of coffee.

Bruce hands you an empty mug and you're forced to make the journey to the coffee maker behind you. "Bruce, you cannot blame me."

"I will try," he sighs into his cup.

You blow a raspberry at him. Well, you're facing the coffee maker but spiritually, it's directed at Bruce. "C'mon, this is comedy gold."

Bruce leans back against the batcomputer. "I assume the answer to my question of when are you going to drop this is never."

Your eyes sparkle. "Broosh, there is so much to unpack."

"Such as?"

"Whose delicious offer are you taking up?"

Bruce chokes. "Who let you read trashy romance novels?"

"Alfred. Anyway, Diana is definitely a solid candidate given your taste in women," you say, sliding your hands across the air like you just pitched a new ad.

"Oh! Oh! Hal seems like a dark horse given your relationship but you also have an authority kink. He probably has it in him."

"The amount of projection you're doing is impressive."

"You're gonna pick Clark, aren't you?"

"You can't hear me, can you?"

"Clark seems really sweet but I bet he'd bend you like a pretzel and see how well your conditioning has trained those muscles," you say with a broad grin. You tip your head back, staring at the stalagmites. "He'd probably be really sweet with aftercare though ... wow, this is hard."

Bruce runs his hand over his face. There is a stubble forming on his chin but somehow it feels more pleasant than this conversation. "It feels like you've considered all of my colleagues as an option," he slurps his coffee in punctuation.

"Of course, I have."

Bruce chokes.

You turn your body towards him. "I have eyes, Bruce."

Bruce puts a hand over his eyes and groans. "Why couldn't you stay tiny and adorable and not say things like that?"

"Did we not already discuss my adoration for your specific flavor of suffering?"

Bruce just wanted to sort through this widespread money-laundering scheme. How the flying fuck did this happen?

You plop back into your seat, wheeling it back towards your stack of folders. "C'mon Bruce, you've gotta be interested in one of them."

"Has it occurred to you that I have a goal of keeping our relationships strictly professional?" Bruce says, plopping back into his own seat.

"Think about it."

"And if I don't want to?"

"Indulge me."

"I think I've done enough of that."

"Fine, I'll go. I'd go with Arthur."

Bruce snaps his head towards you. "How much do I have to pay you to shut up?"

You cackle. "Hear me out! Think about it. The guy can hold his breath for a while. "

Bruce plants his face firmly to the keyboard, hands over his head, shielding him from the tortures of your intentionally inaccurate description of Atlantean anatomy. He thinks that if you put this much thought into a thesis, you'd be able to get a Ph.D. pretty easily. Just ... not a Ph.D. in biology, marine or otherwise.

"Please tell me you're not going to go through the entire roster with this much detail," he begs, angling his head to look at you.

You pause your rambling and Bruce finally knows what they mean by the sweet release of death.

"I wasn't..."

Bruce lets out a breath.

"... but now I think I will."

Bruce questions the use of your time as an intern as you give very detailed lists of possible pros and cons of a friends-with-benefits relationship with various Justice League members. And when Bruce has the audacity to question the fact that you've thought about this, you stretch the list to heroes that were not included in the meeting, and even worse, you threaten to stretch it to his rogue gallery. The funniest and most awful part about this was it was all on a spreadsheet, which he notes is far too organized.

"Explain to me where you found the time to do this?" He asks, resting his cheek on his knuckles. As he says this, it occurs to him that he would do this too if he knew this conversation would ever come up.

You look up from your computer. "I keep forgetting your only internship was with assassins."

Bruce rolls his eyes.

You quirk your brow. You're not wrong. "I do a lot of busy work which I get done quickly, so I kill time by doing shit like this. I could work on case stuff for you if you put it on Excel."

Bruce blinks, more awake than before. He puts his hand over his mouth seriously considering this. "They'll notice."

"Sure. Anyway, you're stalling. As I was saying, you really should consider exploring a relationship with the Atom."

Bruce leans back in his chair and groans. He gives up. Turning to you, Bruce levels you a scowl. "Please just get it over with and tell me who is the worst candidate on this spreadsheet."

"Do you want to include anti-heroes and/or villains or leave them out?"

Bruce curses inwardly.

You snort. It's been a while since you heard him say a proper swear word after adopting Dick. Your mouth ticks up in amusement. You've broken the bat.

Bruce rubs his face. "Ok, say I said include villains without any graphic details, who would be included on the list of the worst?" He asks not taking his head out of his hands.

He hears the rhythmic clicking of a keyboard.

"I've got Lex on the list."

Ok, he sees that but Lex is definitely not the worst.

"Clay-face?"

"Still arguably fuckable."

"Next."

"So, you would do it."

"Next."

"Ra's."

Progressively getting worse.

You shrug at the absolutely horrified look on his face. "Some people are into that."

"By people, you mean not including you."

"Bruce, I am into older men but not that old. I don't want his dick to turn into dust while I ride it."

Bruce thinks if there is anyway to unhear that. Before Bruce can raise any big-brotherly objections, you continue. "How about Brainiac?"

"No."

"Condiment King?"

"No."

"Solomon Grundy."

"No, that counts as necrophilia."

"Really? Huh. How about the Joker?"

Bruce responds with a full-body cringe, so you scroll a little more.

"Black Manta?"

"Same objection as Arthur but more evil."

You huff, annoyed. "But the man has two dicks and handlebars for when you ride him."

Bruce blinks. "That's not how— He's not a shark."

"King Shark then."

"No."

"But—"

"No."

"Killer Croc."

"No."

"Waylon is a sweet guy!"

Bruce lets out an exasperated breath.

"How about Grodd?"

Bruce's face tries to peel away from his head.

"Ooh! Wait! Wait! Weasel."

Bruce's face shifts from existential confusion back to that same face peeling attempt but more successful.

"Ok, hear me out," you say as you type, "according to this, weasels apparently grab their future mates by the neck and chomp down hard, so Weasel is an Alpha which implies ... that he has a knot."

Bruce just kind of sits there. "Did I not say no graphic detail?"

You look up from your screen. "You call that graphic? I could describe in detail how he could mate you."

"I'm going to throw up."

"Why is Bruce going to throw up?" Dick asks sleepily.

You and Bruce both have a heart attack. Mechanically, you turn to a very sleepy little Dick Grayson, his cheeks still speckled with drool and hair mussed up to stand.

"Hey chum," Bruce says a little awkwardly.

How much did he hear?

"Hey Dickie, c'mere."

Dick looks between you and Bruce's awaiting arms. You both wait in anticipation to see who he chooses.

You rejoice mutely when he goes towards you. You scoop him up and add to your tally, all while giving Bruce a shit-eating grin.

"What were you guys talking about?" Dick asks, snuggling into your sweater.

"We're talking about Bruce's dates."

Dick's nose wrinkles in a silent 'quit it'.

Bruce grins, knowing full-well you can't say anything graphic in front of Dick. "Is there anyone on the list you would 'date'?" Dick levels Bruce an almost glare that is too sleep rumpled and cute not to make Bruce chuckle.

A wry smile that makes Bruce's stomach slosh and twist spreads across your face. You will make him regret challenging you. "For heroes, I would pick Hal. Definitely." Bruce's face does this thing where his jaw tightens and a vein at the corner of his left temple twinges. He doesn't coax you to continue but you do. "As for villains, there's this guy. Hold on." You scroll through your database. "There's this guy named Slade. I've fought him before and he's pretty competent."

Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose. "This is all hypothetical of course."

The wry smile on your face does not disappear. "Me and Hal have a lunch date tomorrow."

Dick decidedly does not look happy about this and Bruce? Bruce is going to pass out.

#crackfic #bataunt reader #Bruce Wayne #Bruce Wayne/Justice League #Bruce Wayne & Reader #dc x reader #april fools

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k-s-morgan · 2 years

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Have you ever been in a fandom where the canon ending disappointed you?

For sure! It's easier to list the fandoms where the endings didn't disappoint me first :D From such examples, there is 'Hannibal' - it mostly solved every arc and brought the characters to their happy ending together in a subtle and beautiful way. I loved the end of 'Black Butler' the anime - it was somewhat open but perfect in every way to me, with Ciel and Sebastian destined to stay together forever. I loved 'Shadowhunters' ending - Magnus and Alec got the biggest and most explicit HEA imaginable. They got to address each other's insecurities, the last episode focused on their beautiful wedding, and Alec is implied to become immortal.

I was mostly indifferent about 'Harry Potter' ending. I'm glad the trio lived, but I didn't like the epilogue. Can't say I hated it, but it felt too forced and oversimplified.

Now, as for the disappointing shows... 'Sherlock' is the biggest example. I always prepare myself for the worst, but even I couldn't imagine the nightmare of S4. I managed to find some good fics that continue from S3, but all in all, I could never look at this show the same. I could deal if one or two arcs were ruined, but the writers destroyed literally everything - every character, every relationship, every plot. I'm baffled to this day.

I wasn't all too happy with 'Merlin' ending either. I would accept the outcome of Arthur dying and Merlin waiting for him if it was done in a more logical way, but Arthur's death just feels very dumb. Merlin is suddenly not a great warlock, he suddenly forgets he has a dragon and an immortal cup at his disposal, etc. It makes no sense and you have to really suspend your disbelief to buy it. But there are beautiful stories out there that helped me do it.

'Supernatural' ending is just... lol. I ignore the existence of E20 because it's one of the most ridiculous and offensive pieces of writing I've ever seen. I only accept it as a part of "Chuck won" narrative, which is what I think they'll got for if there is ever a renewal. This ending can compete with Sherlock. Dean forgetting Castiel exists, Sam forgetting about Eileen; Castiel forgetting he loves Dean and being too busy doing 'stuff' to announce he's alive; Sam forgetting their son is a God and Jack just... doing something, I guess. Dean's death is as absurd as it was in the episode where he died in 1K crazy ways. I could go on forever, everything about it is awful and illogical, and it breaks every rule all other seasons established. You could really watch E1 of S1 and this episode, and you won't feel like you missed much of anything.

'The X Files' had an open ending that I found satisfying in S9, but after that... I was more or less positive about the second movie, but other seasons were just a big no. Carter really doesn't know how to wrap things up and finish the arcs he started instead of creating new ones all the time and using cheap tricks to fool the audience.

'Queer as Folk' ending sucks. Characters suddenly regress in the last 1-2 episodes and do things that are completely illogical. Brian and Justin getting married was probably too saccharine for the writers, so they decided to remind the audience that bisexual Lindsay, who's in a long-term relationship with another woman , is actually in love with gay Brian and jealous of Justin. So she gives the worst advice, manipulates the situation, and gets Brian to think that by marrying Justin, he will be holding him back. Cue him pretending to be miserable about their upcoming marriage and Justin deciding that they don't need it & going to NY to be an artist in a way that's entirely impossible. Ugh. The whole E13 and parts of E12 are so forced and illogical.

Endings are hard, but not so hard that so many writers constantly create so much nonsense. I really don't know what it's about.

#fandom #hannibal #merlin #shadowhunters #the x files #queer as folk #sherlock #black butler #harry potter

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msmarvelouswinchester · 4 years

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Love In Sin

Chapter 5

Summary - Special Agent Winchester is forced to go undercover with his frenemy Special Agent L/N when they try to track down a notorious drug dealer. How will Y/N and Dean complete their task? Will their relationship worsen or will new feelings emerge between them?

Pairing -AU Detective!Dean Winchester x Reader

Series Warnings - Angst, Slow burn, Fluff, Implied Smut, Mentions of crime and drug, Swearing.

Chapter Warnings - Slow burn, Swearing

Word Count - 2.3k (this is probably the longest chapter in the series)

A/N - I was supposed to post this in two parts but here ya go folks!

Beta'd by the amazing @deanwanddamons (she is awesome)

The dividers by the talented @talesmaniac89

Series Masterlist

“I'm never organising a party again! I am exhausted!” you exclaimed sitting on the floor.

Dean let out a low whistle as he looked around the room full of streamers. He had been out to do the grocery shopping in the meantime. He came back with a bunch of food items and pie. That man really loved his pie.

“I knew you worked better with food in your system” he laughed.

“Shut up!” you grumbled, “we need to go and meet the neighbours now. Let them know about our party.”

“Now?” Dean raised an eyebrow at you.

“Dean, the party is tomorrow.”

“Why can't I get some alone time with my wife?” He pouted.

“What?”

“You know we haven't christened the bedroom yet,” he wiggled his brows, making you roll your eyes.

“Don't you think you are taking this undercover a bit too seriously?” Raising your finger, you poke his chest. He immediately grabbed your hand, pulling you close.

“I like roleplay,” he smirked. You jerked your handout of his grip and glared at him.

“Okay, okay. Let's go.”

You got up and went to your room to get changed into something better than the pants and oversized t-shirt you were wearing.

“Where ya goin’?” Dean asked, following you into the room.

“Get out, Winchester. I need to change,” you said and pushed him out of the room.

“You know I am your hus-” He started saying in a cocky tone, but was cut off by you yelling ‘Shut up’ to him.

You changed into jeans and a flannel and finally came out of your room.

“You look great.”

“Thanks,” you said blushing slightly. Can this man just stop complimenting you every now and then?

You and Dean approached the first house which was apparently Castiel’s .

You rang the doorbell and waited for someone to open the door.

“Yes?” A young boy of around twenty opened the door..

“Hey, is Castiel there?” you asked.

“Dad? Yeah sure. Wait here. Let me get him,” the boy said and went back inside the house, leaving you standing in front of the door which he had closed with a slam.

“Who's ask-oh hey! The Campbells right? That was my son, Jack. Come on in,” Cas said and gestured at you to follow him.

You went inside the house and took a seat on the couch. Castiel's house was beautiful. It was full of antique collections. There were also beautiful antique portraits on the wall.

“Hey! Cas told me you guys moved in here today. I'm Meg,” The woman greeted you both, and took a seat on another couch in front of you.

“Hey. Nice to meet you. I'm Y/N and he's Dean. You have a really beautiful house.”

“Thank you. It's all because of Cas. He loves to collect antique pieces and now our house looks like a museum. You just got married right? That's a really beautiful ring,” Meg said, glancing at the ring on your hand.

“Thank you but it was actually his choice,” you said looking at Dean, “so he deserves all the credit.”

“You two make a cute couple,” Meg grinned. You blushed at her words and nervously tucked your hair behind your ears.

“Thanks. We are actually here to invite you and Cas to our housewarming party. Tomorrow at seven,” Dean said.

“Oh we will be there, for sure!” Cas smiled.

“Awesome. So, as we are new here, can you tell us anything about the other neighbours?” Dean asked, hoping to get some information out of Meg and Cas.

“We have been living in this area for almost two years now. It may come off as a beautiful neighbourhood but actually it's the worst. No one talks to anyone and some of the neighbours are downright rude,” Meg said, clearly annoyed by her neighbours.

“Really?”

“Yes. There is Rowena. She lives two houses down from us. She is extremely sophisticated, she is the CEO of the company called Herbs and Magic.It's a company which produces organic skin care products,” Meg said. She definitely had a lot of information about the people living in the area.

“So, she is like the queen bitch,” you joked.

“No. Actually she is kind of polite. The queen bitch is Amara. She lives with her brother Chuck . I think you may know Amara. She worked on “Love in Sin” and a bunch of other films.”

“Yeah, I have heard of that film, not that I have watched it. This neighbourhood is really one of a kind,” you chuckled.

“Tell me about it,” Cas laughed along with you, “I don't know why Meg loves this neighbourhood so much. All the people who live here are assholes.”

“Hey! Not all of them. There is Mick Davies and Arthur Ketch - they seem like nice people and you know why I chose this place. It's easier to get to work from here.”

“Well Mick and Arthur haven't talked to us at all,” Cas rolled his eyes.

“Where do you work?” You asked.

“I work at Chuck's company.” You shared a look with Dean.

“Chuck Shurley? The producer of the film Love in Sin?"

“Yeah that and he is like the God of the business industry!” Meg exclaimed, "You know about the Carver Industries which deals with automobile manufactures?"

“Uh-yeah, of course we have heard of him,” Dean said, "Rich neighbourhood!"

“Anyways, thank you so much Meg. We have wasted a lot of your precious time. We should go now. We have others to invite too,” you said and got up from the couch.

“It was so nice to talk to you. Let's meet up some other time. You know, just a girl's day out,” Meg said.

“Definitely! I love to have a girl's day out with you,” you said and Meg pulled you in a hug.

“And they are already making plans,” Dean joked, making Cas laugh out loud.

You and Dean left the Novak household and went to invite the other neighbours - all of them definitely lived up to their reputation.

“Well, that was interesting. The Novaks don't seem like someone to be the right hand person of Crowley. Rowena is the CEO of a company - why would she need to be partnered up with a drug dealer? And the Shurley’s? How did the bureau forget to mention such an important detail?” You asked.

You had ordered a pizza because you neither had the energy nor the will to cook.

Dean hummed at your words and bit into a slice of pizza. “We need to keep a close eye on all of them. The Shurleys are our top priority.”

“Yup,” you said and noticed Dean typing on his phone after he was done eating.

“I have briefed Mr. Singer about today's incidents. Let's call it a night. We have to be on our toes the whole day tomorrow,” Dean said, making you nod in agreement.

Your eyes trailed up his body as he stretched his hands, his biceps flexing under the thin material of his unbuttoned flannel. You continued to stare as he yawned and shook his head.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” Dean said, a stupid smirk on his face. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you blushed at him - this man was surely doing things to you.

“Shut up,” you grumbled and left to go back to your room.

“Night!” You heard Dean call out to you.

“Night,” you replied to him.

You woke up in the morning to find an arm draped over your stomach. You froze when you realised it was Dean's arm. What was he doing in your bed? You remember clearly you went to bed alone in your own fucking room.

Dean was still asleep. He was spooning you from behind, his hot breath fanning against your bare skin which was not covered by your tank top. Goosebumps erupted on your skin. So he was a cuddler - no that's not the important thing now. Why was he in your bed?

You tried to remove his arm from your stomach and started to stir beside you.

“Hey, morning,” Dean said in a gruff voice. You looked back and saw him greeting you with his eyes closed. Damn that son of bitch for looking like a model from one of the fashion magazines in the morning whereas you looked like you had just fought a war.

“Morning. What are you doing in my bed?”

“You don't remember?” Dean asked, finally opening up his eyes - he really did have beautiful eyes.

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’.

“So all that effort went to waste? Awesome,” Dean groaned and rolled to the other side of the bed.

“What happened Dean Winchester?” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“You had a nightmare. I woke up to hear you yelling and then your gorgeous mouth started saying my name. I tried to wake you up but you had turned into a sleeping beauty and I was too tired to kiss you awake so I climbed into the bed with you and voila! You calmed down and I think I fell asleep here,” Dean shrugged.

You observed him for a moment. He was straight up lying to you. If you had a nightmare that bad you would have remembered it. Why was he lying to you or maybe you really didn't remember? You wanted to ask him, but instead decided to drop the subject.

“Well then thanks. My nightmares are pretty intense,” you played along, “ready for today?”

Dean nodded and got out of your bed but stopped at the doorway and turned towards you.

“If you want to talk to me about your nightmares, I'm here for you, sweetheart,” he gave you a small smile.

You both got freshened up and Dean offered to cook you breakfast. You came down to the kitchen after some time to find Dean setting a plate of homemade waffles on the table.

“Smells nice in here,” you said.

“It tastes even better,” Dean gloated.

“Okay smartass,” you mumbled and sat down at the table. You ate a piece of the waffle.

“God Dean, these are so good,” you moaned, “you are an amazing cook.”

“I know,” Dean chuckled when you kept moaning after eating every piece of the waffle. You looked up at Dean and saw the tips of his ears had turned bright red and he was shifting uncomfortably in his seat. You immediately became embarrassed when you realised what you were doing. Your face became hot with embarrassment.

Dean cleared his throat and got up from his chair.

“I am going to take a shower,” he said.

“But you didn't eat your waffles.”

“I-uh,” he cleared his throat once again, “I'll eat those later.” Dean left the room in a hurry. You kept eating your breakfast in silence and decided to take a shower and get ready for the day after you were done with your food.

You went up to your room and grabbed a pair of fresh pants and a sweatshirt. You made your way towards the bathroom but before you could go into the shower, you collided with Dean, falling ungraciously on your ass.

“Shit, sorry,” he said and extended his hands at you.

You looked up at Dean and swallowed hard. He was shirtless and only in a towel. He had just come out of the shower and his hair was still wet, tiny droplets of water lining his hair and chest. You grabbed his hand and he pulled you up to your feet.

“Sorry, fault’s all mine. I-” your eyes travelled down to his body. You saw him smirk a little. That cocky bastard.

“My eyes are up her L/N,” Dean said.

“I-I should go,” you said, picking your belongings up from the floor and going to the bathroom.

The rest of the day until the party started was uneventful. You lazed around the house, occasionally asking about each other's lives and discussing about the case. Dean said since he was ‘the best husband in the world’ - his words, not yours- he would cook for the guests and you agreed with him, knowing you were a terrible cook yourself.

It was almost an hour before the party started, so you decided to start dressing up for the party. You decided to keep it simple and also because you had one dress with you. You chose a navy blue cocktail dress and paired it with some blue earrings. You looked at yourself in the mirror and your attention went to the diamond ring on your finger. It was for a job, but it still felt weird to look at the ring.

“You ready?” Dean knocked on your bedroom door.

“Yeah.”

“People have started to co-” Dean's words got stuck in his throat as he let his eyes roam your body.

“You,” Dean cleared his throat, “you look beautiful sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” you bit your lip to stop the blush which was threatening to spread on your face, “I'm almost done.”

You gave the final touches to your makeup - you chose to go for a light makeup. You took your phone from the nightstand and stepped your foot out of the room but was immediately pulled back by Dean, turning you around so fast that you almost had whiplash.

“Sorry, didn't mean to surprise you,” Dean said, “we are newly married, we should be a little handsy - honeymoon phase, as they call it. Maybe we have to kiss when we are downstairs,” Dean reasoned.

“Okay,” you said, nodding your head.

You left the room, swaying your hips a little but you couldn't hear the groan that left Dean’s lips.

“Hey gorgeous! You look lovely,” Meg exclaimed and pulled you into a hug as soon as she saw you coming down the stairs. That girl was such a hugger.

“Thanks Meg. Right back at you.. Where's Cas?” You asked looking around the room.

“Looking for me?” Cas popped up behind you, startling you, “you guys got yourself a lovely home.”

“Thank you guys!”

“Hey! Sorry but can I borrow Y/N for a second?” Dean came down the stairs and asked your neighbours.

“Yeah sure, Campbell,” Cas said and you followed Dean into a secluded corner of the house.

Let me know if you want to be tagged in the series!

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neon-junkie · 4 years

Text

Loyalty

Summary: Is someone here to steal your chickens again? Or is it a long lost lover who accidentally comes across you and your homestead?

Pairing: Javier Escuella x gn!Reader

Word Count: 1444

Rating: SFW

Tags: Angst, Fluff, Happy ending, Pre-RDR1, Crying, Reunion.

Notes: Tumblr ate this anon’s ask sooo I’m posting this as a fic instead. Will be doing more of these :)

It's been so long since the events of Beaver Hollow, since the Pinkertons tracked the gang down for the last time, since the standoff that tore the gang apart. The obvious choice was to stand beside Arthur and John, which is what you did, leaving your former sweetheart on Dutch's side.

That was the last time you saw them. Their broken heart visible in their eyes, tears refusing to fall since they just couldn't believe you were turning your back on them. You weren't, you never thought you were; you were just siding with the right side, the side they should have been on, the side they clearly wanted to be on.

You moved on. You had to. You had to escape the surrounding area and push as far as your horse would take you, over the river to West Elizabeth, down past the Great Plains, heading over to New Austin. You'd started a new life here, working on a ranch until you could afford a small one-person shack with a few chickens and your horse.

Season's changed. The leaves fell from the trees time and time again. Your former horse passed and you eventually got a new one. Your former lover never left your mind, despite how much you tried to shake them off. You'd tried to love again, tried to move on. You'd spend countless nights at the saloon trying to pick up anyone, trying to enjoy one night stands, trying to fall in love again, but nothing ever worked.

And here you are, currently feeding the chickens on a warm summers eve, the suns rays peeking from the mountains. You gaze at the sky, the red reminding you of all the blood that fell to the ground those many years ago. Most of the time, you ignored those thoughts. You were used to them by now, those feelings of grief and despair now turning numb and hollow. But tonight was different, tonight your heart ached for the first time in a while. Something felt off, despite everything seeming normal.

You retire for the evening after shooing the chickens into their expensive coop, locking the pen behind you as you left. You enter your cabin, locking the door and putting your coat on the rack whilst you kick off your boots. Dinner doesn't take long to prepare, re-heating leftovers from the night before, taking your time to eat whilst you write in your diary. You push the plate to the corner of the desk, giving you more space to write.

Something's telling you to go back through your memories, so you do, turning back through your diary, pulling your old one out from the set of draws built into your desk. There are pages and pages of camp stories, photos of the gang, small wrinkled bits of paper from where your tears had fallen as you'd written in the book when the gang was falling apart.

As you go over the pages, your ears perk up at the sound of your horse nickering, whining uncomfortably from their small sheltered pen. You get up to your feet, peering from behind the curtain that overlooks your horse's stable. They seem fine, nothing's there, they must have just gotten spooked from their own shadow. No surprise.

You go to sit back down but you hear the sound of your chicken coop gate opening, that distinct little clicking of metal from the lock on the gate. Somebody's definitely out there, probably attempting to steal your chickens. Unfortunately, you'd had strangers attempt to do this before.

You follow protocol, picking up your already-loaded shotgun, despite it not being fired in a while. After turning the safety lock off, you unlock your door, quickly slamming it open, cocking the gun as you raise it to your shoulder, ready to fire.

"What the hell do you think you're doin'?!" You bark, startling the stranger who's stood in the chicken pen, their hands about to reach down and grab one of the poor birds.

"No need for that," they reply, quickly standing upright and raising their hands. "I can leave," they tell you.

"I think that'd be wise, and don't bother coming back," You tell them, eye peering down the barrel of the gun. Something about them felt... familiar.

They shuffle backward out the pen, kicking the gate shut with their foot. They go to reach down to lock the gate but you cut them off. "Leave it," you order. Their hand returns to the air, continuing to slowly back away from your home.

Damn that large tree you had, despite it being perfect shade for your chickens, it's blocking the light from the moon, barely showing their figure, let alone their face. It isn't until they finally move back into the light that you feel your heart sink.

The beautiful shade of tanned skin, the shoulder-length black hair, the distinct facial hair. Either your former lover had an identical twin that he never told you about, or he's stood right in front of you, attempting to steal your chickens.

"Javier?" You softly ask, lowering your gun ever so slightly so he can finally see your face.

Javier's heart drops as fast as yours did, his mouth parting slightly as he realizes who he just tried to steal from.

"Amor?" He asks, his hands lowering from head height.

"It's you?" you question.

"It's me," Javier shrugs.

You're quick to prop your gun against the inside of the cabin, rushing over to him. Javier rushes over to you, in sync, removing his sombrero as chucking it to the ground so he can hug you properly. You've not felt a hug this tight in a long time, and you can't help the flood of tears falling from your eyes. Javier does the same, not holding back, allowing himself to whimper into your shoulder as he grips tightly onto you.

"I thought you were gone," you tell him through sobs, dampening the ends of his shortened hair as they brush against your cheek.

"I had to flee. And you..." Javier breaks the hug so he can cup your face, both hands on your cheeks. "...I thought you had moved away. Gotten married. Started a new life," he tells you.

You shake your head, your hands coming to rest on top of his. "I couldn't," you tell him.

"You've aged like fine wine," he smiles, tilting your head down so he can kiss your forehead.

"You..." you pause, finally taking a proper look at him through your tears. "...you look tired, Javi'. You look rough," you honestly tell him, noticing the bags under his eyes, the jagged way his hairs been cut, the weight he's lost.

"I am," he shrugs. "Too many sleepless nights without you," Javier tells you, moving his hands down to your waist so he can pull you back into a hug. Your arms wrap back around his shoulders.

The two of you hold each other for a few moments, enjoying the long-awaited contact, the touches you thought you'd never feel again. You move away, one hand coming up to cup his jawline, gazing into his eyes. He's really here. Your former love, your other half, the man you swore you'd spend your life with, is finally standing in front of you, his hands around your waist as he gazes at you with love-struck eyes.

"Come here," Javier whispers, moving his hands back up to your jawline, finally pulling your mouth against his. The kiss is gentle at first, shy yet so familiar. He feels different, but he still feels like he's yours. His mustache lightly tickles your upper lip, just how you remember. His nose slightly bumps against yours, just how you remember. His kisses are gentle and passionate, just how you remember.

You feel one of his tears run along your cheek, and all that does it make you cry more. "Javier, please, come inside," you break the kiss to tell him. It's not a question because you know he'll say yes. You know he'd walk to the other side of the earth just to see you smile, and you know he could never deny you of anything.

You take his hand, walking him back into your cabin, soon to be our cabin. He's quick to pick up his hat from the dusty ground, placing it on your coat hanger as he enters. You shut the door behind you, locking it, ready to spend the night crying and going over the years apart.

Javier's ready to stay by your side, this time promising to never leave, to never run, to stay loyal to what truly matters, and that's you.

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happenedinkingsman · 4 years

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𝐓𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞

Pairing: Merlin x reader

Summary: Y/N contemplates her entire career at Kingsman on the floor of Stateman’s surgery room, after a particularly difficult surgery she performed on a certain agent

Warning: Description of surgery, swearing if you squint your eyes

Words: 1.5 k

Y/N kept laying on the Statesman’s surgery room’s floor, even after three different agents had come by to see if she had aid to get to her room, or desired a change of clothes. Polite as ever, she declined every time, shaking her head a little, making everyone else grow irritated while she just rested there, smiling slightly.

It had been a long and god-awful surgery. And Y/N had had their share on long and awful surgeries, this one was easily the worst. Not only because her feet were basically screaming form pain and her neck was cramping after the 16 hours of complications and near-death experiences, but mostly because who she was trying to save.

Really, it was only a matter of time, before he’d go and pull something so heroic and stupid like he now did. She had always told Merlin how one day he’d be hanging from a thread on the surgery bed.

“Lucky me then, I have the best surgeon in the world to save me,” He’d answer cheekily, earning a slap to his chest from Y/N.

Now, he was wheeled into another part of the med wing, mostly in one piece minus one limb.

Y/N hadn’t realized it before, always too busy with her work in the med bay to see what was right in front of her the whole time. She always considered herself to be married to her job, as did all the other agents as well. Drilled into their minds that working for Kingsman was certainly not a position to mix business and pleasure, made Y/N forget any kind of possibility to find love.

She was stupid not seeing it before when it was so obvious. Immediately after she switched from her position from the central hospital to Kingsman (being noticed by Arthur after she saved a child’s life with a juice box straw and a bottle of whiskey) she and Merlin had clicked, bonding over the work off-field. Whenever they’d wheel in an injured agent, he’d wish her good luck although everyone in the whole department knew she could handle almost any injury.

After a while, he’d begin to bring her coffee in the morning, in exchange Y/N would leave him tea on his desk, as she always came to work before him. Sometimes she’d leave a note, with a stupidly hilarious comment of the work she’d have that day, never failing at making Merlin chuckle.

Indeed, Y/N had been a complete idiot, not seeing how much she loved the adorable man in the chair. That was most likely the reason she was so dead set on getting Merlin out of that surgery room alive. He had in a way saved her life when the attacks had hit their homes. Defying orders, Merlin hadn’t put Y/N’s address into the database, for reasons the woman did not know. Not yet at least.

But it had saved her life, and now she had hopefully saved his.

“Gaius”, Agent Tequila greeted Y/N as she finally managed to peel herself off of the surgery room’s floor. She smiled at him tiredly, noticing how Eggsy and Harry were also in the room waiting for her. Knowing she must have been in the surgery room for at least an hour plus the seventeen hours before, it made her beyond happy to think the two had waited for her, patiently in the lobby.

Harry got up from his seat, hugging Y/N shamelessly. She hugged him back, burying her face into her chest, still not completely used to him being back.

“You did marvelous job darling,” He praised, speaking softly. Y/N just smiled. “So far at least, he’s alright.”

“I’m glad,” Understatement. She was more than that, there wasn’t most likely enough words to describe how glad Y/N was right now.

Eggsy smiled his goofy lop sided smile, pulling Y/N into a hug as well. He made a pretend scowl when she hugged him back.

“Yeah, you really were there for 17 hours,” Eggsy joked. “You need a shower.”

Y/N chuckled and hit his bicep after pulling away from the hug.

“Your girlfriend alright?” She asked, a hint of worry in her voice. Eggsy nodded, smiling contently and dug his hands into the front pockets of his trousers.

“Damsel de-stressed do to speak,” He said humorously, although everyone could see the rock being rolled off of his chest. Y/N had been so busy with getting Merlin out of Poppy’s secret lair without him completely bleeding out on her hands she hadn’t had time to comfort Eggsy. Or anyone for that matter.

“Right”, Y/N stepped back a little, playing with her hands. “I think Eggsy’s right, I do need a shower.”

“I’ll come by to check on him, after?”

“Don’t rush”, Harry warned her, knowing how little rest Y/N had gotten during the past 72 hours. Y/N smiled and nodded, walking back to the other direction and towards the room she was given.

Y/N looked after Merlin, not trusting anyone else at Statesman to do the job. She knew the doctors were talented, surely. They were working for an agent corporation, but still, she couldn’t quite place the life of the most important person she knew into someone else’s hands. Not after she had had to cauterize his wound so he wouldn't bleed out and then cut him open once again to remove any infected flesh.

No, she couldn't let go of him, quite yet.

Merlin had been sedated for the past week. Y/N wanted to give his body some time to begin the healing process, also it would lessen the pain he was most likely going to have to endure for the next month or so.

For the first time since she joined the Kingsman, Y/N shamelessly walked around the Statesman HQ just in sweats and a thick sweater. After everything that had happened, the woman quite literally said fuck it when she had changed out of her surgeon gown. She had been almost been nuked by a terrorist, as of now, out of all the things she was worried about, what Y/N decided to wear was most likely the least important one.

Y/N walked down the same, familiar hallway towards the infirmary, holding a cup of coffee in her hand. In her left hand, she messaged Galahad, telling him she was once again checking up on Merlin.

It was a bummer that neither Y/N nor Merlin could go to Eggsy’s and Tilde’s wedding, but it was better for her to lay low for a bit and Merlin to just get better. Eggsy, of course, understood this, but still threatened to come over and throw another reception party at Statesman, if Y/N couldn’t bring her ass to England to see them soon. His words, not Y/N’s.

“Hey”, Y/N briefly greeted another doctor, who was checking up on a field agent. From what she could see through the small crack of the curtain, he seemed to have quite a few bruises and most likely a broken nose. Nothing too bad.

Y/N turned to Merlin, after making sure the curtain was fully pulled in front of the bed for maximum privacy. The heart monitor gave out reassuring and steady beeps, while Y/N checked for Merlin’s IV and other vitals. They had decided to stat gradually lowering the propofol, so Merlin could begin to wake up on his own. A couple of times, Y/n had caught him mumbling something incoherent in his sleep, signalizing that he had begun to dream. It was a good sign, as then she knew he had begun to wake up slowly.

“Hey you,” She eventually sat down beside the bed. Merlin looked a lot better than she had a week ago, that’s for sure. His face was much more colored, not hollow and grey anymore. His fingers didn’t feel as cold either.

“What are you dreaming about?” Y/N spoke again, as Merlin mumbled something so lowly sh couldn't understand. She smiled and placed her hand on his forehead to make sure he had no fever. He didn’t.

Y/N left her hand there, gently stroking his head with her hand.

“You’re going to be alrigh-”

“Y/N?” She sat up straighter when she recognized her own name form the middle of the mambo Jambo Merlin was murmuring about. Y/N gently grabbed his hand, squeezing it slightly.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

Y/N could almost see a hint of a smile, trying to tug the corner of his lips. She leaned a bit closer, trying to figure out what he was saying.

“What is it?” She asked softly, squeezing his hand again, selfishly trying to keep him awake. Instead of speaking again, Merlin grasped her hand, ever so slightly squeezing it. Y/N chucked, squeezing back with glossy eyes.

“I’m going to take care of you”, she said, softly stroking his cheek with her free hand. “I promise.”

---

#kingsman x reader #kingsman merlin x reader #kingsman secret service #kingsman golden circle #kingsman #merlin x reader #hamish x reader #harry hart x reader #eggsy unwin x reader

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hideawayintheimaginationworld · 3 years

Note

I am interested in that fazbear frights/little nightmares au you mentioned! Could you tell us more about it plz?

Well I really like the disturbing nature of Little Nightmares in a whole “holy shit I can’t believe someone actually imagined this, this is disturbing”. Honestly I can imagine the disturbing nature of Little Nightmares could be applied to FNAF a little, so it inspired me needless to say.

So in the AU, each protagonist tries to get out of the “Purgatory” like realm, the monsters (SpringBonnie, Eleanor, Funtime Freddy, etc.) capture humans for a number of reasons: to turn them into “husks”, eat them or just out right murder them for fun. They have been doing this for years.

Each protagonist was lured/taken there in different ways:

•Oswald's Dad was kidnapped and they released him once they had Oswald locked up. This is a common trick they use to get kids.

•Eleanor (who is similar to the Lady in this AU, breaks any mirror she looks at), tricked Sarah with a friendly facade, knocked her out and kidnapped her.

•Millie was actually born there, her parents were servants to Malhare (The Thin Man in a way) and had her in secret, she is hidden by her grandfather, Millie promises one day they will both get out of this awful place and go home.

•Greg was sold to them, by his father, to save his own ass (AKA he's asshole), Greg met Fetch there, who is kind of like a hellhound who is extremely protective of him.

•Hazel was actually kidnapped, Alec wasn’t aware but learnt they wanted to take him instead but she told them to take her because she wouldn’t fight, so he actually opened a door into the realm to look for Hazel while trying to avoid this world's version of Lonely Freddy (who acts similar to the eye on the wall from the first game, if the eye sees you, you turn to dust; if Lonely Freddy sees a kid, he hypnotises them immediately and they become paralysed, leaving the victim to be eaten by monsters later).

•Oscar and his friends were lured to the world when they were younger, they don’t know how get back home and they hide in the walls.

•Delilah was born there like Millie but instead she was brought up by Eleanor to be her servant, Delilah craves to escape, get married and have a happy family one day and it's the only thing that keeps her going.

•Stanley was a servant but he rebelled after he witnessed Funtime Freddy kill a child who tried to escape, Stanley usually guides kids to get out but he never leaves because he feels like if he ever did, then the kids would have no chance to escape.

•Devon was kidnapped alongside Kelsey and Mick, they already killed Mick, and Devon and Kelsey have a promise to help each other escape.

•Pete and Chuck, it was a matter of wrong place, wrong time, Pete and Chuck have been separated, with Pete knowing he's alive but locked up with younger kids, he also knows he needs to get him out before they get hungry for “human meat”.

•Kasey escaped when she was younger, she was traumatised by her experience of seeing so many kids die, she thinks of that as her old life (she is still a trans person in this AU).

•Samantha also escaped when she was younger, but her sister wasn’t so lucky. Samantha is now in her 50s, she adopted two children: two sisters who reminded her of herself and Susie, and swore she would always protect them.

•Bob also escaped from there, but he uses the magic he stole from that world to go back every once in a while to look for any kids who want to leave, over the years, he has successfully rescued 20 kids from their gruesome fate.

•Matt is a mind controlled servant to the Malhare, he is aware he's being controlled but he can’t break free. His mind is warped.

•Arthur in this AU is the adoptive dad of Andrew, Arthur didn’t want to leave as he knew he could survive but he knew Andrew wouldn’t, so he immediately formulated a plan to escape and took Andrew with him. He happens to live across the street from Alec and tried to tell him to not go after Hazel because he would most likely get killed also. Arthur realising he went anyway, goes along to see if he could need help.

Another fact: all the protagonists wear masks to cover their faces, the masks also exist as a means to block the mind control of the Malhare, they were all made by Arthur and scattered around in places only kids could find them, examples:

Millie wears a bunny mask that is similar to BonBon, Alec wears a bear mask, Pete wears a fox, etc.

Matt wears a full head of a rabbit to keep his senses of the outside world completely “off”.

Vanny is in this AU too, she was a kid who tried to escape but the Malhare brainwashed her and convinced her to never ever go home, and to instead hunt the kids who try and escape.

Okay ramble over, I will do some artwork for this at some point.

#Ask #Five Nights at Freddy’s #Fazbear Frights #Fazbear Frights: Little Nightmares AU #I'm trying to brainstorm a name for this AU #A proper name #anonymous

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whirlybirbs · 5 years

Note

r u joking me uh MISS TURNER cleaning up a BEAT UP ARTHUR’S WOUNDS i LOVE MY SOFT BOY

a/n: this is ridiculously soft. arthur has feelings, everyone notices, save for you. while you’re lost in thought, arthur’s in a mood. who knew a few well-aimed punches on arthur’s behalf were enough to knock you loose from your funk.

here’s some miss turner + arthur being lovesick and stupid pining idiots. again, from my simpler said aloud series!

You haven’t been the same since your sister Jenny left.

Dutch had sent her on her way with parting words and threats veiled within hugs as they posed as cousins departing in the Rhodes railway station.

Best not tell anyone where we’re at, Miss.

She will, of course, but it’s one less mouth to feed and one less conflict dividing the camp.

After Jenny’s less than kind words, the Van der Linde’s gang had been more than careful with you -- and it was driving you up the wall. You weren’t some wallflower to be marveled at.

You’re angry -- and, not wanting to inflict that upon others, you pull away.

You don’t eat with the girls at dinner, instead holing yourself up with your book and doing your chores around camp in silence. You keep your head down, even going so far as to walk past Arthur when he rides back from hunting with Charles without a word.

Typically, he’d at least get a hello.

Your mood is making Arthur Morgan just as bitter.

Everyone notices it. At first, it was thought that maybe, just maybe, Arthur had gotten himself into a bad mood with the climbing heat -- he’d has always had a short temper in the summer months -- but, it’s not until Mary-Beth and Tilly overheard Miss Grimshaw griping about ‘how Arthur hasn’t had it this bad since that wretched little wench, Mary Linton’ to Hosea one morning that they piece together what’s going on.

And, if anyone can read the outlaw, it’s Miss Grimshaw. She has, after all, known Arthur nearly as long as Hosea and Dutch.

Mary-Beth and Tilly, for all the romance-novel-reading they do, can’t believe that hadn’t noticed it sooner.

Arthur Morgan is sweet on Miss Turner.

And, so began to the week of hell in Camp Van der Linde.

Arthur’s mood is a wretched thing -- he can barely sit still with you like this and he hates himself for it. I mean, you’re clearly upset and no amount of him tryin’ his best to cheer you up seems to help (though, really, he limits himself only to small talk and bringing you coffee; the need for distance is driving his heart apart). You just... pass him by with a sad look on your face.

Even Sugarcube, for all her trying, isn’t able to get you to perk up a smidgen. No matter how many nuzzles and whinnies she gives.

Given all that, Arthur is like a hurricane, tearing through camp.

After five days of this nonsense, everyone in camp has had it.

Karen has started a tally of how many long-drawn sighs Arthur tosses in your wake. She’s up to six.

That’s when Dutch and Hosea decide some fresh-air might help.

So, they go out fishing.

(In reality, they get up to more than just fishing -- they run into Rhodes’ sheriff and deputy and a sad lookin’ Trelawney being carted in the back of a jail cart. Arthur is dispatched to help catch the Anderson Boys and, after one fist fight, one knife fight, and nearly falling off a moving train three times, he ends up being recruited as a damn deputy.)

When they come back, rowing in just before sunset, Arthur’s got a nasty set of bruises up the side of his face and a bag of fish in his hand. Hosea and Dutch and him are laughing, booming, happy sounds that catch the camp’s ears -- Pearson is first to help them pull the boat in.

You spy the trio making their way to the fire. You lean back, swiping at your forehead and leaving your washing for a moment.

Mary-Beth, Tilly and Karen watch as your jaw drops.

“Christ, Arthur --”

The outlaw perks up, sheepishly so, at the sound of your voice saying his name. In the orange light of the sunset, you can see the angry purple and black bruises along his cheekbone and eye. His nose is busted along the bridge, lip split. He is, really, in rough shape -- but he’s peachy-keen when your hands surge up to touch his jaw. He clears his throat, trying to ignore the evident hammering of his heart at the gentle touch. You turn his head, shock slapped on your face.

“S’ nothin’, Miss Turner,” he rumbles, “Really.”

“Did a fish do that?”

“Mm,” Arthur chirps, “Sure, big ol’ sturgeon, it had a mean left hook.”

Pearson leans around you, snagging the bag of bass from the outlaw’s hands. You blink at Dutch and Hosea behind him, sending them off with raised hands as they try to skirt your worry -- the camp seems to hang on the interaction, eyes lingering on you and the lead enforcer as you drag him towards his cot and force him to sit.

Susan Grimshaw hums. Mary-Beth, Tilly and Karen can hardly look away. Forget those silly romance books, this is the real thing.

Away from the mid-evening bustle, Arthur can finally get a good look at you; you’re digging through a box Hosea had set aside on Arthur’s desk, pulling out rubbing alcohol and a pad of gauze. You are, really, a sight for sore eyes. The summer sun has you looking like something out of a dream -- glowing. Your hair, swept up and away, frames your face with fly-away’s.

“I swear,” you mutter, “One of these days --”

“I’ll be alrigh’, Miss Turner,” he says slowly, watching as she pulls at the gauze, dunking the alcohol on it, “Nothin’ a lil’ sleep won’t fix.”

“Good thing you were already mean-lookin’,” you chirp the bold lie, moving to stand close and tilt his jaw up, “These bruises sure ain’t gonna make you any prettier.”

Arthur laughs at that, eyes screwing shut. You grin.

Quickly, you dab the open cuts along his cheek and nose. He doesn’t even flinch -- not a bit -- so you make sure to clean them nice and good. He tries to memorize the feeling of your hands along his face. When you turn, Arthur’s eyes are back on you.

Across camp, Mary-Beth shoulders Karen. “Look at him look at her --”

“He’s got it bad.”

Arthur clears his throat when you swipe at his cheek again.

“Are... Are you alrigh’, Miss Turner? You been awfully quiet this week an’ --”

“I’m fine,” you say quickly. You note the way he seems to pull away, pull a pout and a dejected look. Quickly, guilt floods you. Arthur doesn’t deserve the treatment. You begin again, fiddling with the gauze, “Just... embarrassed.”

Arthur shifts on his cot. “... Embarrassed?”

“ -- The whole fight, y’know, with Jenny.”

“If I may say,” Arthur hums, “She deserved it, mouthin’ off like tha’.”

“Well,” you sigh, “It’s mostly what she mouthed out about that’s got me upset.”

Arthur pulls a face. “The bit about you and Waylon?”

“I passed up a life some of you would kill for -- a life some of you have killed for. All because... All because I wanted to be in love and happy and... It’s stupid. It’s all so stupid.”

You chuck the gauze in the bin, dropping your hands to the edge as you sigh. The sunset has painted the camp all kinds of shades of citrine; it’s calm, with a nice breeze cutting through. By the fire, dinner is being cooked up. The flaps of tents flutter in the wind.

A moment passes, and Arthur speaks again. This time, it’s a bit gentler.

“I don’ think it’s stupid, Miss Turner.”

That catches you off guard.

“... You don’t?”

“No,” he laughs, a bit sheepish, “No -- I mean... Before... When I was younger, I was real sweet on this girl -- she, uh, she didn’t share the same ideals as you. Family before everything else, y’know? And, uh, marrying for love... It just didn’t happen. She was sad, after that.”

“... Didn’t work out?”

“He died,” Arthur says, “And she regretted it. Tried to come back to me.”

You blink. A brief flare of jealousy strikes you in the chest. You’re not sure how it had been stoked, but it’s alive and burning. You turn and eye Arthur carefully. Blue eyes are stuck on you. Like honey.

“I... I could never,” you muster, “Waylon... he was seventy years old, Arthur --”

“Christ.”

“Old as dirt.”

“... I’d say you dodged a bullet,” Arthur says then, standing and moving to touch your arm, “Don’t beat yourself up too much -- sometimes, families aren’t do or die. I’d know.”

“Yea...?”

“My pa,” Arthur drawls as he closes the box of medical supplies and moves to shuffle it under his cot, “was a no good bastard. Left me with nothin’ but his hat an’ memories.”

“An’ your ma?”

“Don’t remember her much,” Arthur says, eyes falling on the framed portrait by his bedside, “...Dutch an’ Hosea have been the only real family I’ve had. An’ John, if you count ‘im. Slippery bastard.”

You laugh, fiddling with your hands as Arthur steps outside his tent. His hand falls along your back, leading you gently -- he is every bit a gentleman when he wants to be. It never ceases to amaze you.

“So, what I’m sayin’ is... Let us be yer family. We’ll keep y’ safe. Sure won’t try an’ marry y’ off any time soon, that is.”

“I think, Mr. Morgan,” you say slowly, eyes glued to his smile as he approaches dinner. Everyone seems to perk up at the appearance of you both -- Karen and Mary-Beth and Tilly are grinning like silly. You smile fondly their way, “I don’t have much choice.”

“‘Course y’do,” he smirks, “Y’ jus’ like us too much.”

“Right, well, with you gettin’ beat on by fish --”

“Like I said, mean left hook.”

You laugh so brightly, Arthur’s whole world stops. The Van der Linde gang watches on, enraptured at the prospect of their lead enforcer being locked in the gooey tempo of love-sickness. Hosea and Dutch share knowing looks. It is rare, this moment of happiness and peace that washed over Arthur’s face. He isn’t bitter. Isn’t old. He’s boyish and young and stupid for being in love.

You sit shoulder to shoulder with the blonde outlaw that night, deciding that, well, he’s right.

Family doesn’t need to be blood; this is right enough.

#simpler said aloud #oh my this is the best thing i've written in a while #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x oc #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan reader insert #rdr2 imagine #rdr2 fanfic #Anonymous

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wealucy · 4 years

Text

the control freak { natasha liu bordizzo, cis female, pansexual } ♛ 》LUCY WEASLEY, TWENTY, has been marked safe after the recent events. SHE is currently a BAKER. to some, they are COMPASSIONATE & OBSERVANT. for others, UNEASY & HYPERSENSITIVE. to me, they remind me of a sense of déjà vu, heavy concealer to hide under eye bags, nervous tapping to eliminate silence, braided hair, and an apology forming on the tip of her tongue without a second thought.

full name: lucy irene weasley.

nicknames: luce.

date of birth: july 19th.

age: twenty.

i’ve got the magic in me

bloodstatus: halfblood.

hogwarts house: ravenclaw.

wand: hazel, 10″ with unicorn hair.

amortentia: freshly baked bread, sea breeze, and lemongrass.

if you met them, you’d understand — family.

father: percy weasley.

mother: audrey weasley.

sibling(s): molly weasley ii.

extended family: arthur weasley (paternal grandfather); molly weasley (paternal grandmother); various weasley aunts, uncles, and cousins (biological and married in).

take me by the hand — brief bits.

y’all know how percy canonically has no chill? that ish is genetic because lucy has none either.

rather soft-spoken especially by weasley standards, and is constantly paying attention out of fear that something might go wrong.

spent countless hours of her childhood baking with grandma molly and has since fallen completely in love with it. lucy isn’t great at showing affection, but if she’s ever shown up to your front door with a loaf of freshly baked bread, she loves you.

lucy has a low degree of seer abilities that manifest in basically the worst possible outcome. it’s more outlined in her second bio point, but the gist is that instead of turning her into someone like trelawney, its just given her lifelong anxiety and a fear of things happening to her people. yikes.

the sorting hat barely touched her head before chucking her into ravenclaw territory.

not likely to speak out on most things, but will get riled up at insults or disrespect to her family. she won’t be able to enunciate any proper rebuttal and will just end up a stammering mess telling you you’re wrong, but it’s something.

just a little bit more — bio points.

Growing up, Lucy was what some parents would describe as ‘sensitive’. Not her parents; hers chalked up all of her fussiness in her early years as a byproduct of being her father’s child.. She would fuss over anyone who allowed her to, often times reminding them of all the bad things that could happen from whatever troublemaking stunts her cousins were up to.It was thought cute when she was a kid (“a mother hen in training”, her parents would joke), but as she grew into adolescence and later into adulthood, Lucy’s fretting turned into an anxiety that influenced most everything she did.

It wasn’t just that her thoughts were hardwired to be negative — Lucy would swear there were images that passed through her mind of things going horribly wrong. From her sister scrapping her knee during a game of tag, to her grandfather suffering a tragic gnome incident if he decided to clean the yard a certain way — even if what she envisioned didn’t always come to pass, they still left her fearful.They grew few and far between the older she got, but that didn’t stop Lucy from waking up each morning to wonder, what if today is the day it all goes wrong?

Much like her neuoriticism, Lucy also inherited her father’s intelligence. Growing up, she often wondered if she fit in with her extended family — she wasn’t outgoing or athletic or even humorous like so many people associated with being a Weasley. She didn’t even look the part, and Lucy often found herself questioning what good she was, if not in the same ways that her aunts and uncles and cousins were. Academia is where Lucy truly shined though. Learning came easy to her, and while it’s been her biggest enemy for as long as she can remember, Lucy’s mind has also been her greatest ally. Once she got to Hogwarts, she began to rely on her intelligence for a sense of control over her constant anxiety. This was reinforced by the way her parents, particularly her father, would beam with pride at how much she excelled in school. It wasn’t that Lucy felt like she was being forced to be the smartest — even if she brought home terrible grades, she knew her parents would still love her. But it was the one thing she truly felt like she could control. What was wrong with that?

It was a strong motivator for ages but by the time fifth year hit, the amount of pressure Lucy put on herself to succeed backfired in the form of her experiencing a panic attack in front of her head of house. Following this, and a reassuring urge to talk to her head of house, Lucy opened up about her constant state of anxiety. She felt humiliated and weak, but there was one blessing in it all: a statement on her mind “flashing” prompted her head of house to recommend Lucy speak to a few others, and after years of thinking herself crazy, the idea was proposed that she possessed a low-degree of seer abilities. Nothing to merit recognition by any means; she definitely isn’t about to be the next Cassandra Vablatsky. And merely knowing about her powers doesn’t give her any way of controlling them, but knowing it was an answer to a question Lucy had always been too afraid to ask. That alone was a relief.

Baking has always been her outlet, ever since she was a little girl and could be found helping her grandmother out at just about every family get-together. Over time, it became the only thing that really helped to quiet her mind, after studying became more about her need to be perfect than any source of relief. Being in the cooking soothed Lucy’s anxieties in a new way. She couldn’t very well imagine awful things happening if she was focused on figuring out the right amount of almond slivers needed for a recipe, could she? Lucy was smart enough to have gone into just about any field she set her mind to, but after graduating, she decided she’d much rather focus on something she loved than enter a workforce that would push the limits of her anxiety.

A part of her will always fear being a disappointment by her family’s standards — the Weasleys are filled with so many success stories, consisting of curse-breakers and quidditch stars and war heroes. Now her cousins are settling in to the professional world, and many of them are making names for themselves as well. Meanwhile, Lucy spends her days rolling dough and sifting flour, working in a small bakery that’s only been opened in wizard London for a few years. One of Lucy’s biggest flaws is constantly comparing herself to others. And really, when you come from a family like hers, how can she not?

inspo

pinterest board

#inomniaintro #//aslkdjlfksafd this is longer than i intended #lucy.

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journal-of-an-outlaw · 5 years

Text

Price to be Paid

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

AO3 Link

Chapter 9

You and Arthur decided to camp after all, him having found an extra bedroll from somewhere you didn’t want to ask much about. It was too dark to see by the time you left the last debtor and neither of you could find the new campsite without a map.

“Here looks good, I think.” A few rocks had to be moved but it was off the main path and out of sight of anyone thinking to rob the two of you.

The glow from the campfire warmed the small clearing, and you offered to cook with what you could find nearby. While you roasted a rabbit over the fire, Arthur scribbled away in his journal and the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, a concentrated look settling on his face.

“How old are you, Miss Moore?” The question caught you off guard as Arthur broke the silence. He hadn’t looked up from whatever writing he was doing in his journal. A flush started to spread up your face. “Isn’t that a bit...oh, I don’t care. I’m twenty nine.” You poked the fire and didn’t know what to expect from the man. He nodded and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Why do you ask? How old are you?” Arthur chuckled slightly. “Just wondering in relation to Marston how old you are. You don’t look old if that’s what you think I’m impyin’. I’m thirty five this year.”

You had no idea he was older than you by a few years but it didn’t matter much. In terms of life experience you were sure he outnumbered you a hundred times over.

“You married? A widower?”

“Jesus Arthur, no. I didn't run away from anything like that. Had a boy a long time ago but he - he was shot in a robbery attack at a bank and didn’t make it. Henry. Never really thought about romance after that, just seemed so...far away I guess. Other girls got married to continue their lives and for me, that would have been the end of it. Couldn’t think straight for a few years after it happened.”

He nodded appreciatively at the response and continued on his own. “Glad we didn’t swipe two widows in the same week, Dutch don’t like splittin’ up families much. Poor Mrs. Adler had a lot of ugly coming at her all at once. And that don’t count that Michah was the one who found her in the cellar.”

Not wanting to discuss the abusive, nasty drunk you let his words hang in the air. From between the trees you could see the moon climbing up through clouds and starlight, and the whole universe shone down above you. Constellations swirled and sparkled, winking back and forth across the night sky to answer a call that began millennia ago.

Figuring a complete change in subjects would be best, you broke the silence that wrapped around you too tightly. “Arthur...you could have left me on the ground and just escaped with Abigail back in Blackwater much easier. I would have been fine. Why did you come back for me?”

Arthur didn’t seem to have an answer yet, so instead he reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of rum. After a long swig, he passed it to you.

“I don’t really know. I didn’t think...well you’d just been shot! Course I wasn’t gonna leave you bleedin’ on the ground. Couldn’t look back without knowing I did that.”

Rubbing your hands together and reaching toward the heat of the flames, you responded, “Should have just left me on the dust. Woulda been much faster for you and Abigail to escape without some shot up, dead weight hanging onto you for dear life.”

He laughed and tried to play it off. “I’ve known Abigail a long time, and she would have beat me dead if I left someone she finally approved of to die. Her seal don’t come out too often now that she’s got Jack.”

The bottle of rum was in your hands again and you took another pull. By now your head was beginning to swim slightly and a happy hum had settled over your body.

“How much does Herr Strauss lend out to those folks anyways?” Arthur was thumbing through the papers you had collected this morning.

“Nothing conspicuous, and only from those who are desperate enough to take it. Looks like we got...thirty five here altogether? Ain’t too bad for…” Arthur trailed off as he turned one of the papers over. “Aw, hell. We got one more stop to make tomorrow before camp. Damn fool lent to four folks, not three. Last one here’s a Mr. Downes...name’s familiar. Think I met him in Valentine.”

You passed the bottle back to Arthur and he took a large pull. Empty, he threw it towards the tree line and sighed. "If you wouldn't mind, YN, would you grab the other bottle I've got in my saddle?"

You sauntered over to where the horses were tied up for the evening and rustled around in the saddle bags. Rope, gun, papers...there it was. A full bottle of rum. You yanked it out and looked back towards the campfire where things had suddenly taken a turn. Arthur was standing with his hands up in the air, and two men were pointing guns at him and speaking in slurred tones.

"Now listen here, mister, this is how it's gon go. You were stupid enough to camp alone in our territory, and now you gotta pay the Lemoyne Raiders whatya owe them."

It was a gang you vaguely remembered by name, the Lemoyne Raiders. Crouched down by Zeus you slowly withdrew a shotgun and a pistol from the weapons holster on his side. These damn fools, two bed rolls were out lying by the fire, did their eyes not work?

You crept quietly back to camp and watched the two begin to rummage around, then waved and made sure Arthur saw you. He signaled for you to get away while the two raided his meager supplies, but you ignored him. The shotgun felt better in your hands so you tossed the pistol through the air and Arthur caught it silently. His face checked the safety and he glanced back at you bewildered. You had just tossed him a loaded gun which could have gone off at any moment, and you didn't even check the safety. The pistol was quietly shoved into the back of his pants while the two men emerged from his tent.

"Mister, you got nothing here. Just some cans of food. Where's the money?"

"What money?" Arthur grunted as one of them scanned the ground.

"You folks always got money, runnin' around and robbin' folks." The silent one finally spoke up. "Hey, uh Jim, there's two beds here."

You stood up and cocked the shotgun while the two idiots spun around to face you.

"Don't. Move." You instructed coldly, staring down the barrel at the two. They reluctantly put their hands up, muttering about having to submit to a woman.

"Here's how this is gonna go, fellas. You two are gonna leave. Forget you saw us. We’re just a pair passing through who won’t kill you if you don’t see us. Got it?”

They hesitated, but a quick movement to grab his gun had Arthur slamming the butt of the pistol into the taller one’s head. The other was now unguarded and he lunged towards you to try and wrestle the shotgun from your hands but you swung it around and smacked him so hard he hit the ground instantly, a large bump already forming from the impact.

With the two limp bodies, you and Arthur walked to the stream a good ways away from your camp. He chucked the empty bottle of rum between the pair to make it look like they simply passed out drinking.

“Stupid fools. You looked mighty frightening with that shotgun, I will say. Wonder how they didn’t hightail it out then.” You laughed knowing he was trying to lighten the mood. “Our camp is a good ways away, hopefully they get turned around and don’t find us again. It’s late,” as if to emphasize your point a yawn overtook you. The two of you headed back and walked the quarter of an hour mostly in silence.

A warm tingle from the rum still worked it way through you as you rolled your coat up into a pillow for your bedroll. Arthur began to protest that you should take his tent and he would sleep out in the open but you lay down before the words could pass his lips.

“I’m fine out here, it’s a warm night! Don’t worry. G’night, Arthur,” you mumbled as your eyes fell closed.

The soft glow from the dwindling flames danced on your face, and you looked so peaceful and beautiful falling asleep. Arthur shook off his heavier coat as a breeze passed through, thinking you were more in need of a blanket than he was. He gently bend over and draped the coat across your shoulders and hips, then climbed into his tent to write away in his journal some more.

Sun breaking through the clouds woke you up to a beautiful day. Apparently those two men hadn’t found you again as the only sound around you was the leaves above you brustiling against one another and the horses munching on some grass.

Arthur didn’t seem to be up yet. His smell of horses, tobacco leaves, and mint was overwhelmingly close though, and as you started to sit up you noticed his jacket draped across your shoulders. He must have put it over you when you fell asleep and for just a moment you pulled it tight around you and inhaled the scent. It was the perfect mix of outlaw and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

The campfire was long gone out but you wanted coffee. After you threw some smaller logs into the pit and began a flame, you brewed the grounds into boiling water and took a sip to fully wake yourself up.

“‘Sere enough of that for me?” a gruff voice mumbled from Arthur’s tent. You smiled as you poured him a cup. Too bad there was no sugar to add.

He came out groggy and rubbing his eyes, the sun a bright contrast to the darkness of his tent. Gratefully he accepted the cup from you and took a long sip. The silence was comfortable between you two as the morning crept on.

Eventually it was time to pack up and head off to the last of the debtors. Arthur rolled up the bedrolls while you stamped out the last of the fire. Once you were ready to go, you handed Arthur back his coat.

“Thank you, Arthur...that was sweet.” It was still warm out and the coat was heavy, so he attached it to Zeus with his bedroll. “Was nothin, YN. I didn’t need it and you looked chilly was all.” His tone was relaxed while he brushed his horse.

“Well, even if it was nothing, thank you.” You swung up on Eclipse and gave her a good pat, saying good morning and making sure everything was all in place. After the check was complete, you headed out behind Arthur and Zeus at a steady pace, the forest giving way to more open fields and rolling hills.

The countryside was so vastly different here compared to Blackwater this time of year. Summer was always hot in the southwestern town, but it seemed so dusty to you compared to the green grass growing elsewhere. Even as the world changed from summer to autumn, you remembered swirling dust in everything. Your clothes, your books, the walls of the stores downtown. Sure, winter got cold and spring was full of nasty storms that brought rain for days, but you didn’t know what to expect from this side of the country with its rolling green hills and mountains the climbed towards the heavens.

Getting to the Downes house took a few hours. It was a cute little home with a vegetable patch off to the side with plenty of growth. The pair of you stayed back to observe for a few moments and see the best approach.

“See anyone else nearby?” Arthur asked and handed you the binoculars. “Nope. Just the lone one in his garden. How do you want to do this?”

Arthur contemplated, then decided it was best to go alone. The two of you coming in with guns was overwhelming but alone he could subdue him incase anything happened. Looking back through the binoculars you noticed something concerning.

“Arthur, that man is sick. Very sick, he’s coughing up a lung over there.” He swore and observed the man. “Course Strauss lends to the worst off folks around here...well, should make it easy.”

Stepping down from Zeus he checked the barrel of his shotgun for bullets. “Just...be careful, then,” you called softly after him as he walked off towards the house. He smiled back at you and raised his hand to acknowledge what you said then took off towards the small home.

Watching from your spot in the trees, Arthur approached the man who immediately raised his farming tool up in self defense. Arthur ducked as Mr. Downes swung the rake at him but it was easily blocked and pulled from his hands. He shoved the farmer back towards the wooden fence, and grabbed his collar to pull him in close and threaten him. The house caught your attention suddenly as smoke began to rise from the chimney. You clicked your tongue and both horses started walking towards the house, shotgun held tight in your left hand. Neither man noticed you approach.

As you got closer you could hear Arthur and the man talking. “You borrowed money from my business partner, Herr Strauss. You owe him. You took the money. He wants it back, what’s not to understand?”

Mr. Downes was very, very sick, you could see that now. He nearly coughed right in Arthur’s face, and before you could approach him to help the front door or the cabin swung open, and who you assumed was the wife and his son ran towards you.

“Thomas! My husband isn’t well. If we could just have more…” but she never finished as Arthur shoved Downes away from him and stalked back to you and the horses, and cut her off. “Like I said, we ain’t anybody’s idea of charity. Get us the money!”

He approached with tension clear across his shoulders and barked, “Why didn’t you stay in the woods like we said, YN?”

Your throat was a bit dry as you tried to answer. “The cabin...I saw smoke and was gonna tell you.” He ignored you for the most part lost in his own mind, then took the reins for Zeus and climbed up quickly. His spurs clicked as the horse took off, and you struggled to catch up. Something had set Arthur off and he was in a foul mood.

The next hour was silent, and after awhile you couldn't take it anymore.

“Arthur, why didn’t you collect the debt from the Downes family?” He pulled Zeus’ reins and came to an abrupt stop, looking at you with an angry brow.

“They didn’t have the money, that’s why. Strauss lent to the wrong damn people.”

You were by a small stream so you decided to get down and fill up your water flask. Arthur angrily splashed cool water on his face to try and calm down, muttering while he crouched close to the moving water.

Cautiously you pressed him for answers. “Why do they make you run these awful errands? I have only known you these past few months but that’s not the you I’ve seen every other day.”

Not looking back he replied, “Because I’m big, and I can get the angriest when they need me too. Ain’t a good thing I’m doin’, but somebody’s got to. We need money. And just so you know, that is me, darlin’.”

He stood up to his full height and you realized just how terrifying he could be to a stranger. Broad shoulders filled out his shirt well, and you could see muscles hiding beneath from years of hard work. When he needed to his eyes could get mighty dark and send shivers of fear through a person. If you were someone who took on a loan, seeing him ride up and demand it back would work pretty well.

At camp he was different though. Relaxed and protective of those he loved and had ridden with for years. But out here he was a stranger; a mirror of society that could change its reflection at any moment. He was whoever he needed to be to make sure the job got done.

“You must really hate threatening folk who don’t need it if it makes you act like this. Beatin’ up someone who just needed money, they’re weak and you’re told to kick them when they’re down. It can’t be good for the soul to struggle with what you want and what has to be done.”

Arthur just stared. His mind seemed to be racing and he couldn't think of anything to say. He simply searched your face in hopes of finding an answer neither of you had.

You walked back over to Eclipse. The new horse had been perfect for you since she was purchased in Valentine. Sleek, fast, but still study enough to carry the equipment it took to camp around the countryside with guns and such. It was calming to brush her out and to care for her.

Finally Arthur joined you with the horses. His eyes wouldn’t meet yours, so you silently swung up and got situated in your saddle.

“You’re right,” he spoke quietly, and you had to watch him to make sure you heard the rest. “Ain’t easy. We used to have a creed, and only took from those who could stand to lose it. But now?” he laughed darkly as he continued on. “I’d follow Dutch anywhere, but he’s a bit off since that stint in Blackwater.”

“Watching those who are family change ain’t easy. Sometimes makes you change, too. You can’t be unbreakable for your whole life or you’d never get a chance to grow.” Arthur kept staring at you even after you had turned away, thinking that there was something familiar in this feeling, but he couldn’t place what it was.

Eclipse responded quickly to you clicking your tongue and walked forward. Zeus kept pace while Arthur was lost in thought.

“Do you know what happened in Blackwater?” thinking of your hometown brought to mind that no one really explained the story. It was always referenced to but never addressed.

Arthur sighed heavily. “I don’t rightly know all the details...I wasn’t actually there on the ferry. Dutch got the impression that the banks were sending money on that boat instead of by train so they couldn’t get robbed. It was supposed to be the last heist we pulled so we could finally get out and be done.”

This was something that had plagued him for awhile. “Me and Hosea were off running our real estate gig, something that was real and would have worked. But Michah put it in Dutch’s head that this ferry was the big one. Anyways, it ended in a big shootout with the Blackwater Police and some Pinkertons and us, plenty dead by the end of it. We had that money but had to hide it incase we was found out. Leavin’ town is when I ran into you and Abigail, John had been shot so I had to get her safe.”

Imagining your hometown going through that was rough. You didn’t think your father was on the ferry but you genuinely had no idea. Of course, you knew he wasn’t dead, but it sounds like many others fell in his place.

“Jesus Arthur...I had no idea it was so bad.”

He watched you from the corner of his eye, interested to see how you reacted. He didn’t know about your father yet and that would have just made things worse.

“What about the money? Are you going back for it?” you wondered out loud.

He laughed once. “Not right now we ain’t! Every other window has a wanted poster up of Dutch and Hosea, would be a death sentence to head back anytime soon.”

“It’s been nearly 5 months, surely it would be safe soon?”

“YN, folks seem to have a much better memory for those who do wrong against them than right. I have a feeling we won’t be welcome there for a long, long time.”

Along the train tracks were signs pointing out a nearby town of Rhodes. The old paint was chipping off the wood, and you could see it was riddled with bullet holes.

“Damn. Those Lemoyne Raiders don’t mess around, we’ll have to be careful riding through here.” Arthur followed the trail heading off to the right and towards the trees.

“Tell me about this new camp. Does it have the same view as Horseshoe Overlook?” You wanted to move on to a different topic as the last one had left an odd taste in your mouth.

“It’s, uh, big spot on the lake. Nice little island you can row out to, good fishing I’m sure. You’ll like it, spent so much time by the water at the last place this’ll be much closer. Won’t have to worry about anyone sneaking up on us there.” He smiled back at you over his shoulder and continued riding ahead.

Arthur Morgan noticed more than you gave him credit for. Most men you had met were lazy or only had one thing on their mind, but he was observant and quick.

“Does the lake help with this awful heat?” It may have been mid September, but the turning of the season did nothing to beat away the humidity that settled in the further south you traveled.

Sweat slowly trickled down your back as you fanned yourself with your hat, the large brim providing a breeze that was much needed.

“Lakes got a good breeze, don’t worry.”

An easy silence fell over the two of you, and for once you didn’t feel like you had to worry. After months of being around these people you were comfortable and safe, knowing when words didn’t have to be spoken.

You stopped once more before arriving at camp for a quick chance to rest the horses in some shade and stretch out your legs. Riding all day was hard on a body.

Arthur handed you his canteen and you took a drink happily. Somehow the water was still cold from that stream and it tasted wonderful on your dry throat. You thanked him and he tucked it away on his horse, but before he finished he froze.

“YN,” he said very seriously. “Don’t move.”

It all happened very fast, but Arthur reached out and grabbed your arm to pull you behind him, then fired his pistol at the ground. You made a small noise and the horses spooked, but you couldn’t quite see what had caused the commotion. His arm was still holding you back and you clutched his sleeve tightly.

“Just a rattler, but it was coming up to you and Eclipse there. Figured we shouldn’t risk it.”

The dead snake lay on the ground and it was big.

“I...thank you, Arthur. Glad you got it in one shot.”

You finally let go of his arm and he scoffed. “What, you doubtin’ me as a sharp shooter?”

Flatly you replied back, “No, it just woulda taken me three or four rounds to even get close.”

“Maybe that’s something we can work on then. Can’t put you in danger ‘cause you don’t know how to aim.”

“I can aim just fine! Snakes are just...little is all.”

Chuckling softly he replied, “Three rounds for one snake! C’mere. I still got a can we can use for practice.”

He walked over to a log and set up the empty corn can on top. “Now, grab your pistol. No not that one. Yeah, that’s good. Okay. See the little notch on top there?”

Looking down the barrel you could see a raised piece of metal with a dip in the middle. “That supposed to be there?” He didn’t answer so you took it as a yes and raised the gun up to eye level, watching him move away from the can and back towards you.

“If you keep your eyes open, it tends to help your aim. Now, shoot one and let’s see what’s going on.”

The shot was close, but you missed the can and hit the log instead.

Arthur rocked back on his heels and contemplated. “How’s that left arm? Holdin’ strong?” You nodded but he came up behind you anyways. “Here. Don’t lock it like that, makes it hurt more after.” He placed his hand just above your elbow and bent it slightly. “There, now relax your shoulders,” his other hand rested gently on your right shoulder, pushing it down into place and loosening up the tension.

“Seems right. And...shoot.”

The can flew wildly, and you whooped at your victory. “Right off the stump, did you see that!” You spun around to face Arthur who was much closer than you thought and threw your arms around his neck. He made a rumbling sound in his chest as you knocked him back a step, but you felt his arms wrap around you tightly for a brief moment before you let him go.

“Sorry, Arthur, it’s just so exciting! I’ve never been good at this before. Shooting, and riding, they didn’t really fit into my life before. It’s all so new!” A bit embarrassed at your reaction, you dipped your head and moved to tuck a piece of hair that had fallen out of your ponytail in the excitement.

Arthur, however, seemed to take no mind at it all. In fact his face broke into a rare full smile, lines forming around his blue eyes as he put his hands to rest on his belt. He acted much more relaxed and at ease while teaching you to shoot.

“Alright. Well, next time I go out robbin’ I’ll bring you along and we can really put Dead Eye Moore to the test, how’s that?”

The horses were rested enough so the two of you set off to finally find Clemen’s Point. You were eager to find the new camp and get settled as the past few days had brought a lot of change, and you were ready to begin a new chapter of your life with the Van der Linde gang.

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anaklnky · 5 years

Text

𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙗𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 [arthur shelby x reader]

🔗 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: arthur shelby x fem!reader

📖 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: y/n is a massive tomboy and often gets picked on by members of the public. she wears mens clothes. but that doesn't put arthur off at all. one day when she enters the garrison and a group of men make comments. arthur steps in,,, but not before someone else does.

📣 𝐚/𝐧: ooo i hope you like dis one ;) link to what y/n is wearing is below.

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐞𝐭𝐜: violence, alcoholism, smoking, swearing, making out??, homophobic comments, vulgar language... you have been warned.

it was a saturday morning. still looked as dull and deathly as ever in small heath. but i couldn't give a shit. small heath was my home.

i woke up and put on my usual atire; which included a white shirt, a black jumper, black trousers and black leather shoes. to finish off my unique outfit, i included a silver chain around my neck and rolled up both trouser legs at least twice. as so they didn't drag upon the dirty floor.

as i jumped up from off of the floor, i heard the bedroom door creak open.

"mornin' love." it was arthur. my husband of 6 years. "ow' are ya this mornin'?" he asked. in his hand he held a cup of tea. he then placed it on top of my dresser. which had pictures of my late family neatly arranged on it. with the odd bit of jewellery that had been passed down to me. far too blingy for my liking. so i had left them there simply for display. ornamental use.

"i'm good thanks, my love." i replied. arthur swooped down and placed a long, deep kiss in my hair. i smiled at the pressure laid on the crown of my skull.

me and arthur had married a year before war broke out. i was horrified when news struck the family that all three shelby men had signed up. to participate in the unneeded killing spree. i begged and pleaded arthur to stay at small heath, but as i knew, it was too late at the time. he had already signed his life away to the war. and i couldn't do a thing. but the time he spent away in france, didn't change a thing between us. infact, it drew us closer than ever to one another. when he returned home, i knew he would never be the same. i had seen it. with my own eyes. part of me was scared to fucking death. hoping arthur would let me help with the hellish nightmares that would proceed to come knocking on the walls of his memory during the night. but part of me was happy, happy that i would see him again and hold his figure in my embrace. sink into his chest and feel safe. but that was in the past, and the past is behind us.

"any plans for today?" i asked arthur. i walked towards him and placed my hands upon his chest.

"yeah, we gotta head over to the garrison," he replied, placing his hands on my cheeks, making me look up at him. "important bis'ness to look after." he leant down and kissed me. his thick moustache on his top lip felt harsh on my skin. but after 6 years of marriage, i grew used to it and began to love it.

the kiss grew heated. his calloused hands had since left my cheeks and were wrapped around my waist. pulling me even closer into him; my arms had risen to his head and rumaged into his thick hair. although he had an undercut, the hair he had was extremely thick. his kisses had abandoned my lips and trailed down my neck.

"arthur, we got-" he cut me off with a rough kiss to my lips, cutting me off. my hands went down to his cheeks and cupped his face. arthur then pulled me closer into him, if that was even possible. with my hands on his cheeks, i pushed arthur away slightly. earning a groan to fall from his chapped lips. "we got important bis'ness you said."

"yeah, we fucking do." he sighed.

"come on then, less' get going." i strapped my watch on firmly to my right wrist and put my guns in my chest holster. checking both of them beforehand.

"who you planning to kill today love?" arthur chuckled, a cigerette in his mouth. i walked towards him and took it from his mouth, putting it in mine and taking a long drag from it.

"fuckin' no one." i breathed out, blowing the smoke in his face. then putting the cigerette back his hand. i then marched out of our bedroom and down the stairs.

"you lil' minx!" arthur called out. i laughed at his response. i grabbed my black trench coat from the coat hanger and swung it over my shoulders.

"hurry ya' fuckin' arse up mr shelby, or i'll leave with out cha'!" i yell.

"coming mrs shelby!"

with that we both walked out the house and down to the garrison. where an unexpected event would occur...

3rd person

"come on harry, pass me a bottle of whisky." y/n told the bartender. "lemme show you what mrs arthur shelby can really do."

with that she placed the bottle of whisky to her lips and downed the spirit like it was water.

"go on y/n!" john called.

tommy, john and arthur stood around her as she gulped down the last drip of the single malt whiskey. when she finished, she placed the empty bottle on the bar surface.

"fuck me, i feel fuckin' marvelous!" y/n swung towards her husband. wrapping her arms around his waist.

"cause you are fuckin' marvelous." he lowered his voice dangerously deep. arthur then kissed her passionately on the lips.

"alright brother, calm down." tommy laughed, placing a smack to his elders' shoulder.

arthur's lips left y/n's. he looked at tommy under his eyelashes, frowning.

"fuck off tommy." he placed the tumbler of whiskey to his lips and took a swig.

"alright, arthur, he was just playin'!" she placed a soft kiss to his chin. he then slowly relaxed.

but he wouldn't be relaxed for long. that's when trouble grew.

"is that a bloke or a woman? it's hard to tell!" belted a man from the other side of the garrison. a group of men, that surround the individual, laughed alongside him.

the obviously hadn't noticed that y/n was accompanied by the peaky fucking blinders.

"what did he just fuckin' say?" growled arthur quietly. close to y/n's ear. john was about to swagger up to the them and give them a beating they'd never forget... or live through, but y/n grabbed his arm in time.

"you two leave it, cunts like them aren't worth the beating." y/n sighed, pulling john back into the circle and pulling arthur close. making sure he didn't kill the man.

"did you 'ear that? 'ave you gotta a cock or what?" the man didn't stop his horrible profanities. he kept pushing his buttons.

but when you pulled arthur into a deep kiss. he spoke.

"oi! gay boy, wanna come over 'ere and," he grabbed his crotch.

"that's fuckin' it." arthur growled, pushing you behind me.

but y/n pushed him behind her instead.

"y/n-"

she shrugged off her coat and passed it to john.

"sorry love." she reached into arthur's front pocket and pulled out a silver knuckle duster. she pushed it onto her strong hand.

the men started laughing again.

y/n walked up to them, face emotionless.

"what's ya' name ya' git." she asked, pulling a cigerette from her cigerette case. she brought out a lighter and lit it. then placing it back in her pocket.

"the names sands, georgie sands." he replied.

"right georgie, you can either leave this pub." she took a drag from the cigerette. "and never come back." the men all laughed.

"you 'ear that lads, this one gives out orders and threats." he slapped one of his mates shoulders. at this point everyone had cleared a circle in the middle of the garrison and gone quiet. waiting for mrs arthur shelby to give the man what he deserved.

"or, mr sands, get your arse fuckin' kicked." she hissed. taking another drag from her cigerette.

"i like me beer mate, so erm, i think i'll stay 'ere." he laughed.

"that wasn't a fuckin' option." with that y/n flicked the cigerette towards mr sands and launched at him.

y/n swung an punched him square in the face. with the knuckle dusters leaving permanent damage.

"you're fuckin' mad." mr sands whined. y/n reached out onto his collar and dragged him to stand up. as she did so, she pushed him up against the bar. the bloodied knuckle dusters were chucked towards the shelbys, with tommy catching them.

y/n wrapped her fingers around the man's throat and with the free hand, pulled a gun from her chest holster.

she stared madly at the gun, putting on a show. she stared at it, laughing. before putting the gun under mr sands' chin. a few men gasped.

"y/n, careful, you're drunk." tommy had his hand out.

"fuck off tommy, i know what i'm doin'." she sighed. she replaced the gun away from mr sands chin and put it on the bar. tommy backed away.

"harry, whiskey." y/n ordered.

harry rushed to pour the whiskey in a glass, before sliding it towards her.

y/n kept her hand wrapped securely around mr sands throat. she picked up the glass and shot the bitter liquid down her neck.

"ya see mr sands, you've seen the real me. now," she asked. "do you know who i fuckin' am?" she said through gritted teeth.

"no." he wheezed, shaking his head violently.

"i'm y/n fuckin' shelby," she growled. "this ones' wife." she pointed at arthur.

mr sands gulped.

"and if you fuck with me," she glared. "you fuck with 'im." she shook her finger at arthur. "you understand mr sands?"

he nodded again.

"good." she let his throat go. he keeled over and sprouted a coughing fit. mr sands' face had gone bright red due to lack of blood flow. "harry, another."

harry prepared another glass of whiskey and, again, slid it towards y/n. she then slid it towards mr sands.

"there ya go mr sands. we're equal now." she smirked.

"thank you mrs shelby, thank you." he shook.

y/n grinned evily, she walked over to the empty whiskey bottle from earlier. she grabbed it by the neck and wavered it around.

arthur gave her his raised eyebrows. "what ya doin' missus?" he whispered.

"'ang on love."

mr sands had finished with his drink and was now staring at y/n, scared.

"oh and mr sands, by the way, i don't want to suck ya cock."

with that y/n raised the empty bottle and bashed it against his head. mr sands fell to the floor limp. blood pouring from his head. y/n leant down and moved his head to the side, placing her hand below his nose. he was still breathing. alive. she stood back up and retrieved a cigerette from the silver case and lit it again. her bloody hands raised to her lips and brought the cigerette away from them. smearing blood on her face. she then turned to the rest of his group.

"and you, get fuckin' lost!" she pointed at the door. with that the men scuttled out of the garrison.

"fuckin' hell love." arthur laughed, taking the cigerette from y/n's lips and throwing it on the floor. "ya even sexier to me now more than ever. but ya shoulda let me 'andle that." he used his thumb to push the blood away from her lips, before kissing her fully.

he pulled y/n in closer and pushed her against the bar, making sure not to stand on mr sands. not that he cared. his lips locked with hers, kissing her harshly.

"alrigh' you two, thas' enough." tommy said. "arthur, take her home and clean her up, me and the boys will sort this out."

the two pulled away from each other and stood up straight. y/n brushed the blood from her hands onto her trousers. she then took her coay from john and put it on. "thanks john." he smiled and gave her a small nod.

"thanks tommy boy." y/n said, dragging arthur out of the garrison.

with that they left for their home.

"love, next time, lemme and the boys sort it out. as much as it thrills me to see ya like that, lemme sort the fucker out." arthur sighed, holding y/n close to his side.

"arthur, i was fine. but thanks for the worry." she looked up at him.

"i love ya y/n shelby."

"fuck me you've gone soft arthur shelby." y/n giggled. he just gave her a playful look. "i love you too you fuckin' horses arse."

#arthur shelby #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy reader imagine #john shelby #john shelby x reader #john shelby imagine #peaky blinders angst #arthur shelby angst

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prairiedust · 5 years

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Jack the Friendship-Killer

Jack Kline can be refracted through several folkloristic lenses to get a deeper understanding of his character. The first lens is that of the Jack character of English and American folklore-- sometimes a giant killer through his innocence and good intentions, at other times too cunning for his own good. How do we understand Jack now that he’s burned off an unknown quantity of his soul?

Jack of “Jack and the Beanstalk” and Jack from “Jack the Giant Killer” are subtly different heroes. Beanstalk Jack is not particularly clever-- in fact it is his naivete that starts the whole escapade in the first place. He believes that he’s been given magic beans, whereas common sense (personified by his mother) says that Jack was just conned and in fact had impoverished his family beyond recovery. Beanstalk Jack’s adventures don’t stem from him being particularly smart or strong-- while he is able to climb down the beanstalk with various treasures and then chop it down and thus kill the giant, his main skills seem to be his ability to sneak around and run fast, and to be really, really lucky

Jack the Giant-Killer, however, is a deadly clever and impressively strong young man-- the son of a farmer who sets out to kill a local giant and upon finding his first success, makes that his vocation. In the story of the Giant Killer, Jack meets a series of giants, and defeats them through a combination of brains and brawn.

The fourth giant Jack GK meets is a two-headed giant in Wales. Let me make sure I have my Jack Giants in order…yeah that’s giant #4. This giant plans to do him in by poison, but Jack outwits him and foils his plan. In the morning, the giant serves him a hasty pudding. Jack takes a sack and ties it to his waist and fills it with the pudding. Standing up, he shows the giant a trick-- he slices the bag under his shirt and all the hasty pudding falls out, but Jack is obviously unharmed. Not wanting to be outdone, the Welsh giant slices open his own belly, but falls down dead. Jack the Giant-killer has established himself as a professional liar at this point.

In another “episode,” however, he befriends the son of King Arthur, who is a paragon of generosity and gives away his last twopence in order for a dead man to be put to rest. Jack is so impressed by the prince that he becomes his manservant and in order to procure a meal and a place to sleep, he rides ahead to the home of another giant. To this giant he tells a half-truth, that the son of King Arthur is on his way with a force of a thousand men. The giant is so terrified that he has Jack lock him up until King Arthur’s son had passed, and Jack GK and the prince spend a fine night in the giant’s castle. The giant was so grateful that he hadn’t been slain that he offers Jack anything in his possession, (much as the gods of Olympus gave Perseus gifts in Clash of the Titans.) Jack takes a coat of invisibility, a cap of knowledge, a sword that could cut anything, and peculiarly speedy boots. These items help Jack and the prince out in their next set of adventures.

Jack Kline is poised as Jack the Giant Killer in his story, now. He has gifts-- his unusual nephilianic powers-- and has discovered a new one: the power of deceit.

Jack GK’s adventures shift, however, once he has befriended the son of King Arthur. Instead of wandering the countryside looking for giants to slay, with the prince he encounters a lady who has been enchanted to serve the devil himself; it is she whom the prince set out to save in the first place. Jack commits himself to his prince’s quest, and uses his giant-gifts to save her, and she in the end marries Arthur’s son and Jack goes on to have more adventures. During the rescue of the prince’s lady, Jack uses his giant-gifts to best Lucifer but it’s important to realize that he does not resort to any of his old tricks-- while the magical items do give him an advantage, he doesn’t cheat nor lie in his typical manner to help his friend the prince. Once the prince’s quest is over, Jack is made a knight of the Round Table and strikes out on his own again and gets back to his old tricks, and soon finds a lady of his own to rescue and marry.

Our Jack, however, has no superlative companion to serve. He has father figures, true, but it’s a key point in the Giant-Killer story that the prince is a companion, a friend-- as Jack is introduced as the son of a farmer and the prince as the son of a king, it can be argued that they are of the same age. With Maggie gone and the Lebanon Kids alienated, Jack has no companions to look up to to keep him in line. He has no peers. Even God was not a singular entity (barring the time that he had Amara locked up.) This innate isolation may be his salvation, or his undoing.

We were offered a second lens through which to analyze Jack. As Donatello said, he’s the most powerful being in the universe (absent Chuck and Amara I guess?) and his mind is impossible to know. The MOTW that we were given in an episode about Jack trying to make friends was a singular creature, perhaps the only one of his kind at all, who had devoured his family and been turned from an ordinary, human kind of monster into an extraordinary, supernatural one as a punishment, because Henry Parker, who cannibalized his family, had felt no remorse for what he’d done. In fact, he continued to do it even after the winter had passed. Since he felt no remorse, the elders of the tribe who punished him imposed remorse upon him in the form of eternal hunger, a hunger that would literally destroy him if not assuaged.

Interestingly, There seems to be no remorse in Jack-- in fact, he chose to lie about his time alone in Lebanon rather than face any consequences that might be imposed upon him by his elders. He seemed to feel that Stacy’s encounter with his angel blade was her own fault, and the way I read the scene was that after he healed her he expected the group’s complete approval (even adoration?) once more. His mistake did not seem to impact him.

The third and most complicated lens through which we can try to divine Jack’s new nature is one that was invoked many times. Perez seems to have totally made up his Native creature rather than draw further from Native mythology or legends. I can find neither hide nor hair of any such thing as a Kohoka; Perez appears to have created it based on the Wendigo, although Kohoka is a place name mentioned in the Journals of Lewis and Clark, and there is a Kahoka, Missouri, which was named after the Cahokia tribe of the Illinois confederacy, so I suspect he came across something SOMEWHERE? At any rate, the Kahoka can be classified as “probably made up,” but Sheriff Romero obliquely invoked Coyote many times in the episode. So many times that I’ll bet that seven more mentions of coyotes were left on the editing bay floor after this episode was filmed. I’m not going to do a big meta about Coyote, but here are some very important and relevant stories. Despite what you might read, Coyote was not monolithic. Coyote was for some nations a trickster, for others a fool, and for many he was the old man who made the world. In my opinion Coyote stories are among the best you’ll ever read. Many if not most stories about Coyote are religious in nature.

How Coyote Got His Cunning

https://www.firstpeople.us/FP-Html-Legends/HowCoyotegothisCunning-Karok.html

Coyote Secures Fire

http://www.sacred-texts.com/nam/pla/jat/jat17.htm

Why Coyote Stopped Imitating His Friends

https://www.firstpeople.us/FP-Html-Legends/WhyCoyoteStoppedImitatingHisFriends-Caddo.htm

In some nations’ stories, Coyote was paired with Rabbit, who among other things, kept him humble.

Coyote Misses Real Rabbit

http://xtf.lib.virginia.edu/xtf/view?docId=Apache/uvaGenText/tei/Chi13.xml&chunk.id=CN13&toc.id=CN13&brand=default

And then this one because it’s just really, really good (and I’m fascinated with Mount Shasta):

Why Mount Shasta Erupted

https://www.indigenouspeople.net/mountsha.htm

Just to give a little taste of the Appalachian Jack that I grew up with, a Jack who is even more wiley than his British forbear (it’s hard to find Jack Tales because they’re rarely written down, but many have made their way into books) here is Jack and the Varmints:

https://www.ncpedia.org/culture/stories/jack-tales

Tl;dr: Jack needs a peer.

See you all again on Thursday!

#the folklore of supernatural #jack kline #14x16 #don’t go in the woods #jack the giant killer

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lost-n-stereo · 5 years

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A/N: It’s my first year being a Chuck and Blair fan on Limoversary and I wanted to write up a quick little one shot dedicated to Chuck’s limo. Enjoy!

oh darling (let’s enjoy the ride)

The first time they ride together in Chuck’s limo they are nine years old.

His dad bought them all tickets to see Seussical the Musical on Broadway and even though he told everyone that it’s lame he’s actually excited to go. Nate and Serena have their heads bent towards each other, giggling over a comic book his best friend brought with him. Blair is next to him, hands primly sitting in her lap as they head towards the theater.

“Having fun?” He asks her, because it’s too quiet on this side of the limo and he doesn’t know what else to say.

She sort of rolls her eyes and gives him a look. “We haven’t really done anything yet so how could I be having fun?”

He knows that she’s not trying to be rude or mean, that that’s just the way Blair is. She says what’s on her mind regardless of how it may sound and he actually really likes that about her.

Not that he would ever admit that out loud.

They sit next each other in the theater and every time her arm brushes against his he can feel the soft cashmere of her sweater and it distracts him from the show.

He tucks his hands under his legs and tries not to look at her for the rest of the night.

***

“I love your limo,” she tells him one day when they are fourteen.

Chuck gives her a strange look. “Why? It’s just a car.”

Blair laughs, kicks out her feet into the empty space in front of her. “Yes, but it’s luxurious, Charles. Makes me feel like an old Hollywood starlet.”

He doesn’t want to tell her that she’s more beautiful than any actress he’s ever seen but that is exactly what he’s thinking. Before he can do something stupid, like admit to himself that he’s got a crush on his best friend’s girlfriend, he changes the subject

“So, Georgie asked me to come to her house this weekend.”

Blair groans. “Chuck, didn’t you learn your lesson the first time? Georgina Sparks is the devil.”

He laughs and nudges her with his elbow. “They say the same thing about me, you know.”

His heart does this stupid flip when she looks at him with her big brown eyes.

“Well then they don’t know you like I do.”

***

They aren’t dating but they spend enough time hooking up in his limo that they may as well be.

“What is it with you and my limo?” He asks one day when she’s straddling him, her uniform skirt riding high on her thighs and her white lace stockings on full display. It’s not that he really cares about her fixation with moving vehicles; he just likes listening to the way her voice gets breathy and raspy when she’s turned on.

“I don’t know,” she says, her fingers making quick work of the buttons of his shirt. “Maybe it’s not the limo but the person it belongs to.”

If he was anyone else he might make a bigger deal of her admitting she has feelings for him. But he doesn’t because he’s Chuck Bass.

“Mmm,” he kisses a line from shoulder to her ear. “I didn’t realize you had a thing for my father.”

“You’re disgusting,” she says on a laugh and he grins, picks her up by her thighs and lays her down on the seats.

“Yes, but you love it.”

It’s the first time he uses that word in regards to this thing between them but it won’t be the last.

***

Blair decides that they all need to take a weekend trip to Atlantic City so that’s exactly what they do.

Chuck postpones all of his meetings until Monday and picks Blair up first before they head to Serena’s to get her and Nate.

“This is going to be fun,” she says, leaning across the seat to kiss his cheek when she gets in beside him. “Shopping and gambling…”

“Sex in a hotel room that doesn’t belong to me.”

She squeezes his thigh. “Yes, that.”

Chuck reaches up and thumbs the diamond earring in her ear that he hasn’t seen since she opened the little blue box he gave her on Christmas. “You wore them. They look gorgeous, as do you.”

“Thank you.” She leans over to kiss him, places her hand on his cheek like he loves. “Nice tie.”

He laughs, smoothes his hand down the burgundy paisley tie that she gave him and doesn’t miss the way it matches her dress.

His teeth nip at her lip when he kisses her back. “Love you.”

Blair’s eyes soften like they do every time he says the words. “I love you, too.”

They kiss until the limo pulls to a stop and Serena opens the door, complains about how sickeningly sweet they are and demands a glass of champagne.

***

“Chuck? Can you come and get me?”

His eyes close at the sound of her voice. They haven’t been together in months, she’s engaged to someone else and he is definitely the last person she should be calling.

Still he asks, “Where are you?” because he’s Chuck and she is Blair and no matter what he’s always going to be there for her.

When he pulls up to the bar she’s standing outside, her hair is pulled up on her head in a very un-Blair like ponytail and her heels are in her hand. He gets out and opens the door for her and he can smell the liquor on her skin when she slides in.

“Thank you,” she says when the car pulls away. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

He’s this close to reminding her that she could have called a cab but she obviously knows that already.

“It’s not a problem,” he says, reaching over to grab her a bottle of water. “Drink this.”

She gives him a look. “I’m not drunk.”

“Okay.”

“I’m serious!” She yanks the bottle out of his hand and drinks half down. “I’m just dehydrated.”

Chuck rolls his eyes but doesn’t respond. It’s no use talking to her when she’s like this, he has seen her drunk enough times in their lives to know she’s even more stubborn inebriated.

“Drink more water then,” he says instead and smiles when she downs the bottle and asks for another.

***

“Can you put a car seat in a limo?”

Blair giggles, one hand on her growing baby bump and the other on his arm. “No, you can’t.”

Chuck frowns, looks between her and the car. “Then, what do we do when the baby arrives?”

She looks at him as if he’s adorably clueless and it makes him scowl. “We will need another car, obviously.”

“But…you love the limo.”

Blair looks up at him, skin glowing from her pregnancy, and places her hand on his face. He can feel the cool metal of her wedding ring and he loves it even more now than he did before they were married.

“We will still have the limo, Chuck. We’ll just need a town car when we travel with the baby.”

He sighs, kisses her cheek and places a hand on the top of the limo. “See you around, old friend.”

Blair laughs and shakes her head.

“You’re an idiot.”

***

“Dad! Did you see how many toys fit in the back of this thing?”

Chuck laughs and picks his son up, sets him on the seat next to him and puts his arm around him. “You have to be very careful in a limo, Henry. They don’t have seatbelts like in our other car.”

“I miss Arthur,” Henry says with a frown. “I don’t get to see his face when we drive like in our car.”

Blair smiles, lowers the divider and Henry squeals in happiness.

“Hello, Mister Henry.”

Chuck looks up to see Arthur’s kind eyes smiling at his son in the rearview mirror. The man has been driving him since he was a child and he likes how full circle they have come.

“Hello, Arthur,” Henry says. “Thank you for driving us to the zoo!”

“Those are very good manners, Henry.” Blair holds out her arms and Henry looks up at Chuck as if to ask if it’s okay for him to cross the seats to get to his mother.

“Go, but quickly.”

He laughs when Henry scurries over the seats and into the waiting arms of Blair. Chuck’s heart does a familiar flip when his wife snuggles their son, and when her eyes meet his over Henry’s head he thinks about their first ride all those years ago.

A bump in the road causes Henry to giggle and it only takes a minute before Blair and Chuck are joining in.

She reaches over for Chuck’s hand, runs her thumb over his wedding ring, in a silent I love you.

So he lifts her hand, kisses her palm, and gives her a smile.

I love you, too.

#chuck and blair #limoversary #chuck bass #blair waldorf #chair #gossip girl #gossip girl fanfiction #chair fanfiction #fanfic

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ijustwant2write · 6 years

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In Line For The Throne-Arthur Pendragon x Reader

(GIF credit to @believeincrisscolfer)

Summary: requested by anonymous:’Hello there, I was wondering if you could do a Merin one shot centered around Arthur? Maybe have it be about them talking about needing a male heir or just a heir in general to take over Camelot when Arthur is gone. Yet, he doesn't know she's pregnant. I hope that idea makes sense.’

Characters: Arthur Pendragon x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Angst, fluff (mentions of sex, I suppose?)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Tell me my lady,” one of the ladies of the court caught my attention,“will we see any princes or princesses running around the castle any time soon?”

There it was, the question I had been asked over and over again since I married Arthur. It was relentless. Everyone was so obsessed with the thought of me becoming pregnant. Not that I didn’t want children, in fact I wanted many with my husband. But the pressure was building and I was beginning to grow tired of the constant nagging for an heir. The worst was when I had to endure afternoons with the ladies of the court whilst our husbands discussed important things such as the welfare of our people, money and what not; here I was stuck nibbling on cakes and sipping wine whilst these women gossiped and giggled the afternoon away. Not all of them were awful, mainly the older ones who knew that they had nothing better to do.

“You ask this every week, do you not think that everyone would know if I was with child?” I questioned, trying to not let the sarcasm take over.

“Of course, how silly of me.” She quickly apologised, not wanting to get on the wrong side of the queen.

“But you are trying, aren’t you?” One of the bolder ladies asked, smirking as she drank her wine.

Due to the fact that I had not fallen pregnant within the few months Arthur and I were married, many had assumed that we had never even consummated the marriage. This infuriated me. Firstly, no one should even be suggesting that, secondly (and I’d never say this out loud) we had been trying, desperately in fact. Not because of an heir, but because we loved each other and wanted a family of our own. I began to grow worried, scared that we weren’t able to conceive a child and that our rule would be effected. But I wouldn’t let that show, there was no way these women were going to bring me down.

“You would be wise not to ask your queen such questions. Now, if you’ll excuse me ladies, I have some much better things to do.”

I abruptly stood up, remaining calm as I walked out the room. The guards opened the door for me, and I smiled as they slammed it on my behalf; they had heard me ranting many times, they were able to express my frustrations for me. Just as I began walking in the opposite direction, I heard Merlin call out to me.

“Your highness!” I turned around, seeing him chase after me.“The king wishes to see you in your chambers.”

“Thank you Merlin. Walk with me?”

He nodded, falling in step beside me. Merlin was a loyal and kind subject, someone who I trusted with my life. He had always been by Arthur’s side, following him into perilous situations that I doubted our bravest soldiers would even face.

“Merlin, may I ask you a question?”

“Of course. What’s wrong?”

“Well....have you heard anything about Arthur and I? About...about, you know-”

“About what?”

“About us not having a child yet?”

“Oh.” He had heard such things, he was just too kind to repeat them.“No, I’m afraid-”

“Merlin,” I stopped him from walking any further, sighing as I spoke,“I know people talk. They’re doubting me as a queen. How can I rule a kingdom if I can’t even have a child?”

“How you rule isn’t defined by how many children you have.”

“It’s the one thing queens are meant to do. I have to secure the bloodline.”

“Please don’t beat yourself up over this. It’ll happen soon. And if you want, you can speak to Gaius about it.”

“Thank you Merlin.” I tried to not show how upset I was, but talking about it more and more wasn’t helping.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Another week passed, meaning I had to face more criticism from the other ladies. Those who I could tolerate weren’t so bad, they could actually see how upset this was making me (and took heed of my warning that I would throw their husbands out of court if they ever mentioned it again), however, that didn’t stop everyone. I knew that if I kept making threats then I’d only receive more backlash. But even Arthur and I were starting to argue.

We tried all the time, but instead of doing it out of love, it felt more like a chore. I didn’t want to try for a baby if we weren’t happy about it. Arthur persisted but I said no every night for the past week; perhaps we were trying too hard and needed a break.

“Arthur?” I called out from our bed, wondering why he hadn’t joined me yet.“Are you coming to bed?”

“Oh, you actually want me there now?” He snapped back, sat at the table.

I groaned.“Arthur, please don’t be like this-”

“I’m sorry if I keep bothering you about wanting to try for a child, but if you hadn’t noticed, we’re the king and queen of Camelot.” He made his way to the bed, standing at the end of it with his hands on his hips.“I’m not sure whether you’ve forgotten, but we need an heir.”

“I know, but we can’t continually try-”

“Why not?!”

“Because I’m sick of it! I don’t feel like your wife when we have sex, I feel like some stranger who just needs to get pregnant.” I had raised my voice, but I was too tired to fight.“There’s so much pressure being put on both of us, but you seem to keep forgetting that.”

“I know, my advisers mention it every week-”

“So do their wives! Look, let’s just stop for this week at least, please?”

Arthur said nothing, grabbing a jacket before walking away. I didn’t bother to go after him, knowing that he needed to cool down. The door slammed shut, startling me slightly before I fell back onto the pillows, even more frustrated than before. Were we ever going to start the family we so desperately wanted? Or were we destined to be childless, stopping our bloodline instead of carrying it on?

The next morning I hoped that Arthur would be lying next to me, that we could both apologise to each other. But as I rolled over, he wasn’t there, though his side of the bed had been slept in. My hand brushed over it, sad that he was already gone. He must have got up really early to avoid speaking to me. As I slowly got out of bed, I felt slightly dizzy, but brushed it off, seeing as I had cried throughout the night.

“Good morning your majesties!” Merlin chimed as he entered the room, carrying breakfast with him.

He started setting the table, plating up the food as he rambled about today’s to-do list. He was so busy talking that he hadn’t noticed that it was just me. However, I couldn’t concentrate on his words, because the smell of breakfast was too overwhelming. Without warning, I grabbed a bucket and started to throw up, feeling Merlin right behind me.

“Are you OK? I’ll get Arthur!” Merlin rushed to the bed, thinking that Arthur was still asleep, as he usually was.

“He’s not there, Merlin.” I coughed, hating the taste of vomit.“I only just woke up, he must have left earlier.”

Merlin helped me stand, guiding me to a chair before pouring me a cup of water. I grimaced as the taste of vomit swilled around my mouth but swallowed anyway, closing my eyes for a brief moment.

“You haven’t seen him at all this morning?”

“No.”

“So what you’re telling me is that Arthur got up without being dragged out of bed, and got dressed all by himself?”

I laughed, looking up to see Merlin smiling too. I was glad that he was able to cheer me up, even if it was slightly. This happiness wouldn’t last long, as I felt another wave of nausea hit me, making me reach for the bucket once again. Once I stopped, Merlin took the opportunity to run for Gaius, it was the fastest I had ever seen him move. I had an idea of what had caused this ‘morning sickness’, though I didn’t want to say it out loud, scared that I would risk jinxing it. Smiling to myself, I anxiously awaited Gaius’ visit, hoping that I was right.

Gaius checked me over, seeming in high spirits himself. I think he too knew what was happening to me before he even arrived. Merlin dashed off to find Arthur, clearly not understanding what my ‘illness’ was.

“Well your majesty, the bad news is, you’ll be facing this situation for a while.” Gaius said, still smiling.

“And the good news?” I wanted to jump for joy, knowing what was next.

“It would seem that you are pregnant. Congratulations-”

I squealed for joy, throwing my arms around his neck. He was surprised by my forwardness, but hugged me back anyway, chucking as I started to cry. He congratulated me again before leaving me. As soon as the door shut, I scrambled to my wardrobe, throwing on the first dress I found and grabbing any pair of shoes; I didn’t care that my hair was messy from my restless nights sleep or that I had no jewellery on, I had to find my husband.

The image of the queen running through the castle confused all of my subjects, though of course, none of them questioned me. I had to stop, feeling myself getting out of breath, only to look out the window and see Merlin preparing Arthur’s horse. I opened the window, shouting down to him.

“Merlin! Where’s Arthur?!”

He looked around him, confused where my voice was coming from until he looked up.“He’s preparing for a patrol, he’ll be here any minute!”

Returning back to my sprinting, I quickly made it to the courtyard, seeing Arthur standing next to his horse, ready to mount it. I screamed out his name, alerting both him and his knights as they saw the mad woman charging towards him. Arthur managed to catch me as I threw myself at him, not caring if I wasn’t acting ladylike.

“What’s going on? Are you alright?” Arthur panicked as he set me on my feet.

“Yes, well, no, I’ve been throwing up all morning.”

His face twisted up in disgust before the panicked look returned.“Are you sick? Has Gaius seen you?”

“Yes, and I’m not sick.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’m pregnant.”

The knights instantly started cheering, raising their swords in the air. Merlin smiled, laughing out of joy until he was dragged away by the knights, all of them still hollering about the great news. Arthur was stunned, staring at me and silent. My smile disappeared, but I was soon laughing as he lifted me in the air, spinning us around; he rambled on and on about how happy he was, even when I kissed him he didn’t shut up. We embraced for a long time, we were finally (and truly) happy now; this was it, we would now secure Camelot’s future and have the family we always dreamed of.

#arthur pendragon #arthur pendragon imagine #arthur pendragon imagines #arthur pendragon one shot #arthur pendragon x reader #merlin #bbc merlin #merlin imagine

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sandalwoodhusbands · 5 years

Text

for him.

Lucas posts music covers on youtube and there’s a guy who keeps sending him the most original photos he’s ever seen.

(also on ao3) // previous

A year and a half later

Way Down We Go // Kaleo (Cover) – by turnupthelucas

lucasxlallemant21:

Oh my god so fucking goooood! Your voice keeps getting better and better <3

+ turnupthelucas: thank you!

elio0oliverr:

that wink at the end??? ended the world’s problems

lallemantstan:

my wig is on the floor, my skin is clean and my ears cry with glee

harrysdimple:

Mr. Lucas Lallemant really out there changing the music industry uh

ghostlypitch:

When are we going to get original content?

+ turnupthelucas: soon ;)

+ lustiel: OHMYF GOD CHRISTIE ALSFNEGEJK

+ malectrash: JE SUIS DEAD

(View other 5097 responses)

slipperysnow:

we need more videos with lucas playing the guitar. so hot

Lucas locks his phone, smiling to himself.

It all started as a joke, as most things do. In the beginning, it had just been him and Yann, a viral shitty 15second recording and a guitar.

Yann had been messing around with some strumming patterns on Lucas’ bed, playing some famous tunes at random.

Lucas had been unaware of the phone against the headboard filming him spin around the room with his desk chair, so when he heard the first notes of the acoustic version of Break up with your girlfriend, I’m bored, he didn’t hesitate to belt out the lyrics like there was no tomorrow.

Yann had posted it on his Instagram story without Lucas knowing.

When Lucas logged on his own Instagram account a couple hours later, he felt very confused at the rising number of followers and odd requests to ‘post more videos’ he got, to say the least.

He hadn’t really thought about his voice before that day, but he had to admit the clip sounded pretty fucking good. So he said to himself, why not? - worst case scenario, the video is a complete flop and his friends mock him for a week.

Needless to say, it was the furthest thing from a flop. In the span of a month his first ‘official’ video hit 700k views on YouTube, and so many people begged for more covers in the comment section that he filmed another one. And then another one. And then, well - then he never really stopped.

Which brings him to this day. With over 300k followers on Instagram and more than a couple of millions views on YouTube, he is one of the most popular artists in France at the moment.

He has viewers all over the globe, people send him letters (and the occasional gift) almost daily, and he's sometimes recognized when he goes out for drinks with the gang.

He’s living his best life, basically.

“Lucas” Yann groans from the sit next to him. “Can you please concentrate on the screen?”

Lucas lifts his head up and looks at the tv screen just in time to witness a geared up man appear out of nowhere, shooting his character in the head.

“Oops.”

The game’s menu glares at him in colors of red and black as Yann chucks the controller at his stomach half heartedly.

Lucas grins at him sheepishly, scratching his head.

“C’mon, restart the game. No distractions this time, I promise.”

His best friend raises an eyebrow.

“If I catch you looking at your phone even once,” Lucas raises his hands in mock surrender. “I swear I will choke you with my own hands. And not in the kinky way.”

Lucas snorts, putting his phone down on the table. He readjusts himself on the sofa, back pressed against the cushions, and sits with his feet tucked under his legs.

“Okay, I’m ready.” He clasps his hands together. “Press play.”

The sound of Yann pressing the controller’s button and Lucas’ phone going off intertwine in time.

“Really?” Yann complains as he pauses the game.

Lucas shrugs apologetically, bending forwards to check his phone.

He turned every channel - related notifications off after almost going crazy one afternoon with the constant pinging, so now his phone only notifies him when a friends texts him.

If they got interrupted by Basile pestering him again about getting them into that party next Friday, Lucas is going to kill him.

He runs the pad of his index finger over the back of his phone, unlocking it. His eyebrows shoot up in confusion when an Instagram notification pops up.

Who communicates through direct messages with their friends when you can use whatsapp?

He slides down the notifications bar, frowning when he reads the username.

“Uh”

“Is it Baz?” Yann questions from the kitchen, sticking his head in the door. “If he’s asking about the party again, tell him to go buy the tickets himself.”

“Eh, not exactly?” Lucas trails off, his confused tone making it sound like a question.

Yann walks back into the room with a sandwich in his hand and a bottle of water. Despite his confusion, Lucas gives him an unimpressed look.

Yann shrugs.

“Who is it, then?”

Lucas proceeds to show him the screen in silence.

@srodulv shared a picture with you

“Okay.” Yann looks at Lucas with an equally puzzled expression. “Who the hell is this ‘sroduluv’ person, or whatever?”

“I… don't know.”

“But you're following them.” Yann states.

“Yes.”

“And they sent you a picture.”

“Apparently?” Lucas asks in a high pitched voice, throwing his hands up in the air. “Shit, I don't know!”

That's all it takes for Yann to burst out laughing, falling on the couch and rolling over himself as he tries to control his chuckles.

“What's so funny?” Lucas whines.

“Bet you 10 bucks it’s another dick pic.” Yann laughs, looking at Lucas pointedly.

Lucas blushes profusely at the reminder, tucking his chin on his neck. It’s been known to happen, alright. He can't help that he looks like a twink most of the time - Yann says it's the hair. Arthur argues that it's his mouth.

Anyway.

“That happened once.” Lucas retorts. “Maybe twice.”

Yann looks at him with a face that has whatever helps you sleep at night, buddy written all over it. So maybe it's happened more times than he’d care to admit.

“So? Open it!” Yann urges Lucas, nudging him when the latter just stays still.

Lucas braces himself and taps on the notification.

He opens the picture.

“Wait,” He blurts out. “What?”

“Is it a dick pic?” Yann asks curiously. When Lucas only blinks, he gasps. “Is it worse?”

Lucas blinks again, half expecting to see the picture before his eyes turn into an actual dick pic. When he opens his eyes again, the picture is still there, looking exactly like it did seconds ago.

He passes the phone wordlessly to Yann.

“What the- is that a fucking dog lying on an inflatable popsicle pool toy?” Yann laughs incredulously. “Holy shit. That’s what I call a plot twist.”

“Who the hell is this person and why are they sending me dog pics? What is going on?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” Yann says distractedly, still looking at the screen in wonder. “but you have to marry them.”

“What the fuck, Yann?”

“They sent you a picture of a bulldog laying around a pool, Lucas. That's the epitome of true romance.”

“We don't know who it is. We don't even know if it’s a dude.” Lucas hisses. “For all we know, they could be a serial killer trying to lure handsome young men with pictures of insanely cute puppies.”

“It is a cute puppy.” Yann concedes. “But you can, and call me crazy here, maybe look at their profile? Just a suggestion, though.”

Lucas withdraws his phone from between Yann’s hands immediately, tapping on this mysterious person’s profile with no hesitation.

And, holy shit. He definitely remembers now, alright.

It’s the guy . The one with the soft hair and sparkling eyes.

His eyes land on a recent picture - it’s in black and white. He’s supporting his head with his hand as he looks at the lenses with captivating eyes. He has a bit of stubble, and the black sweater he’s wearing makes him look so cozy, and Lucas wants to die.

“I definitely need to marry him.” Lucas murmurs dazzled, his heart going fast against his ribcage, as he scrolls through the guy’s posts. His lips actually tingle with how bad he wants to brush his mouth against those cheekbones.

Lucas hadn't even noticed he had followed him back.

His eyes find his bio again, and he's surprised it's still the same one from a year ago. Model. Then, another detail catches his eye, and his breath hitches. Eliott.

Eliott.

That’s his name. It fits him perfectly, Lucas thinks.

“I’m guessing he’s hot, then?” Yann snorts from the other side of the couch. Lucas had kind of forgotten he was still there, to be honest.

He looks up from his phone.

“He’s gorgeous.”

Yann smirks with knowing eyes.

“Are you going to answer him?” He asks innocently. As if he doesn't know already, the bastard.

Lucas doesn't dignify him with an answer. Instead, he looks back at his phone, fingers looming over the keyboard as he thinks of a good answer.

In the end, he settles with a simple text.

@lucallemant

hi? haha

He waits for a beat, then two, and tries not to feel disappointed when he doesn't get a text back.

He’s probably busy, he tells himself, or maybe he's sleeping? Lucas doesn't even know where he's from. He might be living in fucking California, for all he knows - although he really hopes that's not the case.

Noting his distress, Yann takes the phone from his grip and turns the volume off, tossing it to the other couch. He puts the controller in Lucas’ hands and squeezes his shoulder.

“C’mon. It's best friend quality time.” Yann gives him a gentle smile. “I demand attention now.”

Lucas bursts into a laugh - just like that, he forgets all about his phone and possible unanswered texts.

***

The hours fly by, and before he knows it, Lucas is saying goodbye to a freshly - beaten, grumpy Yann.

“I totally kicked your ass.” Lucas brags as they walk to the door.

“I totally let you win.” Yann fires back.

“You wish.” Lucas laughs before pulling Yann into a half-hug, patting him on the back. “See you tomorrow, dude.”

“Tomorrow.” Yann salutes and flashes him a smile, closing the door.

Lucas shakes his head, still smiling, and makes his way to the couch. His bed for the last few months, actually. It's a long story.

He sprawls himself on the sofa with his hands under his head, sighing. He should go shower.

He smells himself discreetly, pleased when he doesn't get the need to fill his nostrils with soap. He’ll shower tomorrow, then.

He’s starting to relax when his eyes land on his phone, still discarded on the other couch, and he swears. He'd completely forgotten about it.

With his heart in his throat, he pushes himself forward as he reaches for the phone.

It’s just a guy. I didn't even really know of his existence before today. He tells himself like a mantra. So what if he doesn't answer back? There's plenty more guys out there. Although maybe not as beautiful, or mesmerizing, or - okay, not helping.

He breaths through his nose before unlocking his phone.

A little sound leaves his mouth.

@srodulv

Hello :)

Okay. So they're really doing this, then. Cool. Totally cool. He's so not freaking out right now.

He types out an answer.

@lucallemantj

what's up with the dog pic?

He locks the phone again, holding it against his chest as he wills his heart to calm down. This time, he doesn't have to wait a second before his phone pings again.

@srodulv

With all the messages you must get, I though I should try to make an impression haha

Did it work?

So the guy isn't afraid to double text, then? Interesting.

@lucallemant

it definitely left an impression alright

@srodulv

A good one, I hope?

Lucas grins. He turns off the lights and gets himself comfortable on the couch, getting rid of the t-shirt he’s wearing.

It’s July, and he’s in the heart of Paris. Also, despite the good views this apartment might have, the air system would do with some fixing.

@lucallemant

sure :)

@srodulv

I’m Eliott

@lucallemant

i know

@srodulv

@lucallemant

it says on your profile

@srodulv

That makes sense haha

Lucas flushes. He can't believe he went with the ‘I know’ trope. He groans internally.

Did he fuck up?

@lucallemant

i’m lucas

When Eliott doesn't answer back, Lucas feels his heart fall to the floor. He definitely fucked up.

Fuck. This is why he never gets a date. He's so fucking awkward, God-

@srodulv

I know ;)

Lucas sighs with relief. He didn't fuck up yet, then.

He even sent him a winky face. That's good, right?

@lucallemant

i liked it, btw. the picture

@srodulv

I knew you would

Lucas bites his bottom lip, grinning from ear to ear.

@lucallemant

you did? what else do you know, then?

@srodulv

Hmmm…

Lucas grins even harder. This sounds so much like flirting. Are they flirting? Lucas is trying to, at least.

@srodulv

I know that you are very nice. You like singing, too. And you like guys who send you ridiculous pictures with dogs and pool toys, now.

@lucallemant

a bit pretentious with the last one

@srodulv

Am I wrong?

Lucas blushes. Not at all. He's not going to tell him that yet, though.

@lucallemant

wait you've seen my videos?

@srodulv

A couple of them

If Eliott notices the change of subject, he doesn't comment on it. Lucas is thankful.

@lucallemant

and what did you think?

@srodulv

Oh they're awful

Just kidding. I think you have an amazing voice, actually

@lucallemant

omg thank u

Should he do it?

Fuck it, he's going to do it.

@lucallemant

i’m kinda blushing over here haha

Double texting his crush. Yann would be proud.

@srodulv

Aww shame I can't see it. Where’s over here?

@lucallemant

Paris (:

@srodulv

Cool! I live there, too

Lucas tries not to freak out at the newfound information. He’s not doing a very good job, but he's certainly trying.

His fingers hoover over the keyboard, deciding whether he should type the text or not.

What he wants to say is, maybe we could go out for a drink, then?

What he types in instead, is

@lucallemant

weird we haven't bumped into each other yet lol

@srodulv

Well I’m not in Paris right now, actually

@lucallemant

where are you then??

@srodulv

London, for a job :) I’m staying here for a couple more weeks

What are you studying?

@lucallemant

that must be so cool!! i’ve never been to london, but i want to go so badly

and i’m studying biophysics. sounds boring, i know. and it takes so much time off my daily life i barely have time to post covers. thank god it's summer now

@srodulv

I would love to take you there sometime, then. If you want to

I want to. He wants to scream at his phone. I really fucking want to.

He resists the need to chuck his phone out the window in pure ecstatic.

@srodulv

And that sounds so interesting! Maybe one day you can give me one or two classes on the topic? Damn, you really have everything

@lucallemant

everything? i don't think so lol

@srodulv

You are super cute and nice. You have a killer voice. And now you are really fucking clever, too? That, sir, is having everything as far as I'm concerned

@lucallemant

i’m certainly not cute enough to be a model. Unlike *others*

and who are u calling sir omg I’m 19, not 90

@srodulv

You're a baby :o you would make the cutest baby model

@lucallemant

how old are u??

@srodulv

@lucallemant

what the fuck are you calling me baby for omg you’re literally two years older

@srodulv

Nope, sorry. You’re a baby

A BABY, Lucas

Lucas feels like his heart is going to burst. He doesn’t think he’s smiled for so long in years – maybe ever.

Eliott is doing things to his head. It’s not just that he is, admittedly, really attractive – Lucas won’t lie, it doesn’t hurt -, he’s also charming as hell. He’s making Lucas feel so special right now, and Lucas loves it.

He glances at the clock on his phone from the corner of his eye, mouth hanging open when his brain registers the time.

It's 3 a.m.

Have they really been talking for the past 2 hours?

@lucallemant

it’s 3 a.m. already, what?? how did this happen?

i should go to bed :/

@srodulv

You’re leaving me already? :(

@lucallemant

nooo i will be back, promise

i just have to get up really early tomorrow morning

@srodulv

Promise?

Lucas smiles. He’s so cute.

@lucallemant

i promise

@srodulv

Okay, then :)

Sleep well, Lucas ♡

@lucallemant

goodnight eliott

He debates with himself for a momet before making up his mind. Eliott did it first anyway, technically.

@lucallemant

♡

He locks his phone and leaves it on the table. Rolling himself over, he exhales, hiding his grin against the makeshift pillow.

Sleep comes to him fast, glimpses of smokey grey eyes and bright smiles painting his dreams with vivid colors.

When he wakes up, the sun coming through the big windows shines on his skin comfortably. He feels warm all over with the memories of last night, his dreams still present in his mind.

And when he sees Eliott’s new post, the caption //way down we go// glaring at him through the screen, he convinces himself it’s just a coincidence - despite having posted a cover of the same song less than 24 hours ago, and Eliott admitted he’d seen some of his videos. It’s a coincidence .

Nonetheless, when his friends ask if he forgot grumpy Lucas at home for the 4th time that morning, he just flips them off with a soaring heart.

He's still smiling.

#skam france #elu #elu fic #elu fluff #skamfr #skam fr s3 #skam fr season 3 #lucas x eliott

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