#like i spended a whole morning just in the first trial

[aledethanlast]

I want to clarify something about my Lawyer!Andrew post:

Andrew is not doing this to impress people. In fact he actively doesn't want to impress people. He is done being a superman who holds everyone's lives in his hands. It's not good for his mental health when he's doing it and it's not good for anyone when that he fails, because the law is too big and some of these fuckers are just legitimately dumber and more guilty than his literal murderous mafia husband.

Anyways. Andrew wakes up in the morning, goes to his closet and shoves aside the 15k dollar Armani suits so he can put on the two piece he got at Macy's (then tailored to fit, cause he still has standards), and a matching tie.

He goes to the office. Brad asks him if he heard about the latest draft picks. Andrew stares him down until Brad goes to Andrew's desk and drops a quarter in the "Asking Andrew about Exy" jar. Andrew's coworkers seem to think that he's gonna buy the office a Foosball table with the jar money. They are wrong. It is for a new cat tower. Also, no Andrew hasn't seen it, but he got the rundown from Neil and Kevin, so he knows enough to tell Brad not to bother with a season pass for the Sealions this year.

He has two cases to deal with today. The first is a vehicular manslaughter charge. The client is pleading self defense, and that the victim was a stalker. Andrew likes her because, despite bursting into tears every time they have a trial prep session, she actually listens to instructions and knows when to shut the fuck up. He's confident.

The second is grand larceny. The guy is so super incredibly guilty but Brad gave him this case because he knows Andrew loves police misconduct cases and this one is just so full of protocol breaches that Andrew only had to show Neil the file for him to burst out laughing.

Janet says he has a call waiting. Janet is the highest paid paralegal in the county, because she also filters his celebrity mail. Technically Neil's pr firm still represents him, but Janet knows to turn down the DA's gala invitations without needing to argue with him.

He picks up the phone. It's the DA. The man invites him to the police gala because he knows Andrew ignored the emails. Andrew assumes the man was banking on Andrew giving a polite refusal he can wheedle or harangue into compliance. The man is new to the job, so Andrew will forgive this embarrassing miscalculation.

They spend the next hour discussing court dates for a certain case. Andrew's client for that one is disabled and only has partial aid, and he won't let them set court dates that they know she won't be able to attend. The DA, despite his embarrassing naivate, seems to be on the same page in this regard, so hopefully this will go well when they bring the matter to the judge.

In the span of this phone call, two of Brad's clients come into the office, and within five minutes of walking in are made to contribute to the jar. They don't get their questions answered, because he's on the phone, and they're not Brad.

He has court tomorrow. Court is annoying, because it's a room full of strangers who hear his name and forget why he's there, and he's not allowed to bring the jar. Court is a chore, because he has to walk people through their own idiocy, and then occasionally convince the room of just how stupid or brilliant it actually was.

Court is also, maybe, just a teensy bit fun, because whatever the stereotype of a lawyer is, Andrew really isn't it, and that makes people take him a lot less seriously until he starts quoting their words back to them faster than the stenographer.

(Janet also filters job offers. They tend to crop up every few months.)

(It used to be more fun, back in the early days when Neil would sit in sometimes, until he remembered just how horrifically boring the whole thing is. But that's fine. Andrew is happy having his own thing.)

But really, court is easy. It's a place where your word has weight, where promises are binding, and when everything is going to shit, nobody looks at Andrew like he's the freak for keeping his head.

#the foxhole court #all for the game #aftg #andrew minyard

[malikselfindulgence]

RED SON X READER BLURB ☆ 1K WORDS

Description: How Red Son tends to show his love to his partner :3

Content: RED SON REFERRED TO WITH HE/SHE/THEY PRONOUNS! I personally see her as genderfluid but any hc is cool. Reader is gender neutral

Fic under the cut!

Red Son doesn't really ever say "I love you" 

He might have whispered it once, but you were half-asleep in his lap and the warmth from his hands threading through your hair turned your brain to mush, so you could've been imagining it. Besides that, he's never said the dreaded L-word.

You're not sure why- perhaps an aversion to such disgustingly vulnerable words in general, or his parents hammering lesson after lesson of how displaying emotions so openly is weak. Or maybe it's a lot simpler than that, and the thought had simply never crossed his mind.

Red Son does love you, though. You know this, and they know it too. They tell you they "tolerate your company" and that you're "just adequate enough to be in their presence"- both code words for I like being with you. 

Red Son's love is his driving force- it builds up in his chest and overflows out of him, despite his insistence that his heart is black and cold.

For her family, it's countless nights spent in her lab, working on their next plan to overtake the world, it's trying to live up to her father's legacy, not allowing a single smidge of dishonour to smight her family's name, it's continuing to live in the demon bull fortress, despite the fact that she's over 400 years old now and old enough to live in her own house. 

For his friends, it's reminding them of their self worth when needed- however brash and blunt he may be, it's watching Mei's streams as he works, leaving small comments to show her he's listening, it's helping MK fix up his dreadful noodle-cart while begging him to put it out of its misery and purchase a new one already.

For you, however, it's a bit of a mix of these.

For the first few months of your relationship, it was a lot of trial and error. There was a cultural gap between you and Red Son, demon courting being completely foreign [and frankly concerning] to you. And even if there wasn't, Red Son had no relationship experience. They were still reeling from having friends now, never mind a romantic partner.

Red Son would try to read up on mortal's courting customs [or "dating", as he's come to learn], he'd sit through those crappy rom-com movies and shudder each time they did something over the top, he'd even thought about asking Mei for help, which was just wholly embarrassing, and he totally didn't try to subtly do so only for her to call him out on it and laugh immediately.

It started out with a lot of choppy romantic gestures that just weren't….Red Son, despite how hard he tried to enjoy them, and after a long conversation [or two, or three-], you two eventually found your rhythm, one you both enjoyed and found comfort in.

Red Son built you things- trinkets and machines and the like. If you mention off-handedly that you'd been wanting this thing for ages but just never had the money or time, you best believe they'll be showing up on your doorstep the following morning with a box hidden behind their back. They also fixed things for you- your fridge, your washing machine, your kettle. They grumble the whole time about how out-dated and rusty and repulsive your tech is, but they've never once turned down your requests. They've even offered to upgrade your TV a few times, but you're just too attached to the old thing.

Red Son spends a lot of time with you, even if you two aren't actively engaging in conversation. You'd sit across from each other, or in each other's laps, doing your own separate thing, just in each other's company. Every once in a while you pipe up with a random thought or question, and he shares his own as well before you two fall back into comfortable silence. You like watching him work with his hands, and he likes seeing how passionate you get over your hobbies. He shares parts of his life with you and you do so as well in turn.

Red Son's also shockingly touchy with you. She's not one for grand acts of physical affection- picking you up in public and hand-feeding you syrupy fruits and whatnot, but she will loop her pinky finger around yours when you walk, she'll kiss your forehead just before you head to bed, hug you from behind when she's freshly awake and still sleepily dazed, and once she gathers up the courage to do so, kiss you when her feelings rush through her body and send her hurtling towards you. She always has to be touching you in some way or another.

Most importantly, Red Son tries for you, and for themselves. They still mess up sometimes, they still get scared and terrified and defensive, they're still figuring themselves out, but they try for you. Red Son'll try out a new food just because it's your favorite, or will dabble in new music genres for your sake. Even more than that- Red Son tries to be more open, they try to talk about things they've never spoken aloud before, they try to listen to you- they start taking breaks more often, and eating better, and their self confidence rings a little truer and a little less fake each day. It's more than you could ever ask for. 

So, no, Red Son doesn't really say "I love you", but you don't mind. You hear it in the shared space between the both of you, in the mugs of your favorite drink freshly brewed and handed to you when you're stressed, in the angry notes scolding you for not resting properly, in the brush of his hand against yours. You hear it loud and clear, and you whisper your response into his hair every morning, every evening, every night,

 "I love you, too." 

#malik's writing #requests opeenn!!!! #btwww #!!!!!! #send me requeststss!!!! #red son x reader #redson x reader #lmk x reader #lmk red son x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #lmk headcanons #lego monkie kid headcanons #x reader #self insert

[theflyindutchwoman]

Is this the same undercover thing you and Tim were discussing the other night? I already told you that kiss didn't mean anything. Right, right. It was for the case. Make out. Stop crime. That totally tracks. Go to school. Okay. Well, have a great day. With your boss. Who you kissed.

| ANATOMY OF A SCENE - CHENFORD EDITION 5.01 - Double Down

Words cannot express how much I love this scene… I mean, what a way to start the episode - and the season! This serves as a perfect reminder of the seismic shift that happened in A Day in the Hole… and as an acknowledgement that this was more than a mere kiss, no matter how many times Tim and Lucy want to pretend otherwise. Their reactions made that very clear, be it right after their makeout or the morning after. And Lucy's dream emphasises this again, as it takes place a few days later. They're still affected. They're still reeling. Although, technically, this isn't the first time Tim appears in her dreams… Back when she was a rookie and fell asleep on their night shift, he was already present in her mind, in his full sarcastic and sassy glory. Even her dreams showcases the growth of their relationship...

But the way she is smiling in her sleep… So much for this being just a kiss! She is absolutely enjoying replaying that moment. With her boss. Not her boyfriend. And what makes this even better, is that this isn't the same footage. It's the same angle, same ambiance and all… But this is a steamier version. One where Tim is being more assertive and emboldened. Her dream is so telling… It does get interrupted in the same manner than their kiss. Tamara is nothing if not consistent. Lucy being so flustered, caught off-balance, looking a bit guilty proves how far gone she is.

Thankfully for Lucy, Tamara doesn't bring that up yet, giving her some time to recover. This part of this scene tends to be overlooked with everything that goes on, but that Tamara wants to be there for Lucy is so touching. She did something similar for her for the prep trial. She tries to act casual, giving her some options on how they could spend the day together… Just so she wouldn't have to think about it or be by herself on this day. Something that is incredibly thoughtful because Lucy wouldn't necessarily confide in her, to avoid burdening her. I like that she has a support system… Better yet, that this system is one she created herself. This is exactly what she would do without question if their roles were reversed. These two have such a deep connection and love for each other, it's really heartwarming.

But the teasing is never far with them… And Tamara can't help herself the second Lucy mentions her undercover op. She is having too much fun at her expense… And honestly, who can blame her? 'I already told you that kiss didn't mean anything'… Says the woman who was replaying that kiss in 4k full HD in her dream a minute ago… Who's the lying liar who lies now?! But it's the fact that apparently Tamara brought that kiss up before that sends me… The way Lucy says 'I already told you' makes me think that they've had this conversation several times in the past few days. And not just after Tam got home that night. Her shit eating grin says it all… 'Make out. Stop crime'. So iconic. Once upon a time, Tim told Lucy that 'cop eyes stop crime'… Talk about a different approach.

'Have a great day. With your boss. Who you kissed'. I could quote this whole exchange, this is so hilarious. And I like that it shows how comfortable Tamara and Lucy are with each other. That they are family. Who teases mercilessly each other. For kissing their boss… Who has to deal with something quite similar...

#the rookie #chenford #chenfordedit #lucy chen #tim bradford #5.01 #Anatomy of a scene - Chenford Edition

[writingfics-passingtime]

Hello my love!! For the mistake prompts:

Miracle Baby by Nothing but Thieves + Dealers choice!

This is such a fun idea😮‍💨 Happy drabbles!

Wasting My Time

This drabble is part of JJ’s Mixtape - a mini series based on my followers’ favourite songs and characters. You can read more of them here!

Song Prompt: Miracle Baby

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader (romantic, no pronouns used but disclaimer that this one feels more female-implied than others)

Word Count: ~1450

CW: Swearing, mentions of drugs, explicitly implied sex

Note: First, I love the subtle roast calling this a “mistake prompt” thank you Ella 😂 this song is so cool and gave me hazy dive bar feelings, and going-home-with-hot-stranger feelings. Hope you enjoy!

Matt hated things like this.

His fingers idly tapped against the cool condensation blanketing the beer bottle on the bar in front of him, halfway torn between thinking about his trial in the morning and debating whether to go out tonight. Either way, he was itching to leave.

It was loud. The obnoxious kind of loud, not the kind where you could feel the appreciation for life and joy and merriment. Being dragged along to these stupid law school alumni mixers was the worst way to spend a Sunday evening. Yeah, you hated things like this.

But you’d just spotted the perfect distraction.

At your 10 o’clock. Tall, dark, handsome, sitting alone at the bar. Better yet, he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else but here, so, common ground.

You made your way through the masses, through the thick and clogged atmosphere saturated with terrible work-related jokes and the desperation to impress. Everyone else was in a sea of familiar faces but not you. You didn’t go to Columbia for law school. You only came because your roommate was too shy to come alone and promised she wouldn’t abandon you the exact way she did about five minutes ago.

Besides, you’d only lived in New York for three months and you’d spent so much energy settling into your dream law job that you hadn’t given much attention to making friends. Or to sex. But that was about to change.

Hence, the lone wolf at the bar.

After ordering some kind of sour cherry and lime cocktail with an over-the-top name, you settled on the stool next to the man. He didn’t acknowledge you and a quick glance at his walking stick gave you an indication as to why not.

“Let me guess,” you turned your head towards him and he looked your way. “Criminal law?”

He nodded, smiling with half his mouth. “What gave it away: the cheap suit, or the air of constant dread?”

You laughed, and the sound of it made Matt’s smile crack open. “You didn’t hand me a business card the second I sat down. And the lack of white powder around your nose.”

He laughed back, and you were successfully distracted.

His name was Matt, you soon learned. Past knowing he practised criminal law and that he graduated from Columbia you learned nothing more about his law career. You told him you were new in town, he told you he’d lived here his whole life, you told him you were grateful to meet someone so normal who’s been around forever and still thinks this city is worth staying in. He asked you why you chose New York and you said it just seemed like the right place to be. You couldn’t explain in. You blushed when you admitted it and your heartbeat picked up, so maybe you were doubting that decision.

He asked you about your hometown and turned his body completely towards you. You told him about it, about escaping on scholarship to Princeton, and your knees were soon gently resting against his. Somewhere throughout the course of the conversation, he rolled the sleeves of his white dress shirt up to just below his elbows. He took his time, made a subtle show of it.

You sipped slowly, Matt noticed; you weren’t here to get drunk. The citrus of your drink complimented the lavender in your shampoo, body wash, whatever the fuck it was that was the calmest thing in this place. It was clear you two were getting on well. So much so, no one bothered you.

Finally, he asked: “Where do you practise?”

“Nuh-uh,” you shook your head and pulled a knotted cherry stem from your teeth. “You and I are having a nice conversation here, Matt,” you chuckled. “All I do, all fucking day, is talk about law, think about law, breathe the fucking law-”

He grinned and held up an apologetic hand. “Message received.”

“Let’s talk about anything else.”

“Okay,” he held up that same hand towards you, putting the ball squarely in your court. “Shoot.”

You narrowed your eyes and twirled the stem between your fingertips. After a moment of contemplation, knowing very well where this may lead, you decided that this tall, dark and handsome distraction was worth the risky line.

“Do you think you could beat a grizzly bear in a fight?”

His eyebrows shot up but he didn’t stutter. “Excuse me?”

“No weapons. Pure brawn. One-on-one. Who wins, you or the bear?”

“The bear,” he waved his hand decisively. “No question.”

“Thank god,” you breathed in relief, nursing a smirk behind the stem in your fingers. His puzzled look was his question, so you answered. “Six percent of American men think they could beat a grizzly bear in a fight. Which means, there are about…” you looked around in a estimate head count, “four men in this bar who vastly overestimate their abilities.”

Matt bumped his eyebrows. Another question.

“I’m just making sure you’re not one of the four,” you said after another sip. Your glass was almost empty.

“Oh?” Matt cocked his head and found himself drawn in closer. “And why is that?”

You placed your now-empty glass down, letting it hit with a finality against the wooden bar. “Forgive me if I read you wrong, just seemed like you were searching for a reason to get the hell outta here too.”

Matt let your comment linger, and lifted the bottle to his lips to take another swig. He drained the last little bit and placed it on the counter next to yours. Your heart was beating pretty fast and you tried to calm your cherry-stained breathing, tried to look cool and collected. You wanted him, and you were the perfect distraction.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

Your breath in was shaky. Risky. No one else would’ve heard it.

“I’m just making sure I’m not wasting my time,” you said. “It’s not usually that fun, going home with a man who thinks they’re more capable than they actually are.”

He laughed once through his nose and pulled his beaten leather wallet from his coat pocket, placing thirty on the table to cover his beer, your cocktail and a tip for the bartender. “Trust me, sweetheart,” he stood and held his open palm out to you. You took his hand and left your stool with your coat and bag over your other arm. He leaned down, leaned in, so you could hear his husky promise over the sound of the bar. “You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

Sufficed to say, you had never met a more capable man.

His place was nice, his sheets were clean, he was strong and generous and attentive and that was a big problem. Because this was supposed to just be a distraction. A one-night thing. But it was hard to leave his bed at two thirty in the morning, it felt like tearing yourself away. And that was a problem.

Stay, he’d said. He had fresh towels, a toothbrush, he’d call you a cab in the morning after he’d made you coffee. I can’t, you said. On any other night you would have, but tomorrow was a big day. He understood, didn’t press the matter, and he called you a cab after wishing you a twenty-minute goodbye.

It was only at quarter to nine that same morning, when you were walking up the front steps with a takeaway coffee in hand, that you realised you didn’t have any way to contact him other than through your roommate, who might have his information. You didn’t even know Matt’s last name.

Matt thought about you as Foggy prepped the client in hushed whispers from the defence table. As he straightened files and pens and his personal voice recorder, he wondered when he’d run into you again. You’d been a good distraction. Too good. It was like you were still next to him, like he could still smell the cherry and lime, the lavender and honey and-… wait.

You settled next to your boss and put thoughts of last night out of your head, ready and focused to take on the day. It was a big one. For the first time since moving to New York, you were the lead on a case.

Matt’s mind raced as he listened to every whisper in the courtroom, and as he listened to them hush as the judge kicked off proceedings from the bench.

“Are we ready to begin?” Judge Wallace asked in a deadpan, looking straight to the defence’s table. Foggy stood.

“Defence is ready, Your Honour.”

From fifteen feet away, Matt heard the prosecutor stand. He closed his eyes behind his glasses and held in a sigh when he heard your voice say:

“Thank you, Your Honour. The State is ready to proceed.”

Oh… fuck.

#spicy matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock Drabble #matt Murdock x you #daredevil x you #daredevil x reader #i love enemies to lovers but is this the opposite ??? #Yes I’ve been gone for three plus months #But im just in the mood to write today #and I’m on a Matt Murdock high right now #Marvel x reader #JJ’s mixtape

[spiralwriting]

Promises

(look at me being productive, woo hoo)

Promises should never be broken.

Despite the knots that tightened sickeningly in my stomach and the salty river that threatened to spill from my eyes with each passing second, that sentiment circled my brain, flashing like a neon sign.

No matter how much it hurt.

No matter how much I wish I could be anywhere but here.

A promise is a promise, no matter the pain it causes.

So in spite of the dread settling in my heart, I face the man I've come to visit- the man I promised to visit.

This is far from the first time I've sat on this decrepit old chair across from the equally uncared for table, but the white hot glare it reflects never ceases to scolded my eyes; exposing them to the ugly truth of the situation. A Truth I'd trade for anything: a miracle perhaps. A miracle I'd use to travel back in time, one I'd use to prevent this all from happening. How? I don't know, but I'm sure I'd find a way.

If only I had the chance.

Today is particularly grim, so grim in fact that I wish I hadn't even bothered rolling out of bed this morning. Although, I wouldn't miss today for the world, even if it causes me unparalleled amounts of agony.

I can't miss today, it might be my last opportunity to say goodbye, because I don't think I can bring myself to come back and face him if things don't end up going well.

"You didn't have to come today..." His voice, soft, yet tense. "I know this must be hard for you..." he feels it too, the pressure in the room.

Sighing, I shake my head, "No matter how I feel, today is important. I want to be here for you before shit goes down."

This afternoon, the final trial, the verdict. It's terrifying, but it's unavoidable. The gang has been together through thick and thin, today is no different. Currently, there have been no hints towards what might happen, so it's completely up in the air, which makes it that much more unnerving. Ashley is supposed to be giving a statement to the court, which is interesting, seeing as nobody had asked any of us to do so.

"Well I'm glad you're here," a small, feble smile spreads across his scarred face "I will admit, I was really happy when the guard told me you did end up coming."

I can't help the smile that creeps onto my face, knowing that I made his day a little brighter during this bleak time. "Good news for you then, I'm not going anywhere, love."

A yawn suddenly overtakes that smile, drowsiness swallowing my body. "You look exhausted," concern shadows his face "you haven't been sleeping right again, have you?"

I run a hand through my hair, averting my gaze to look at the dull concrete walls of the room instead of his rather unimpressed expression.

"Don't worry about it, just a couple of late nights." My eyes return to meet his, but he doesn't seem convinced.

"Mmhmm."

I can't help but laugh bitterly at his disbelief. I'm aware that he knows me far too well to fall for that blatant lie, and he knows it to.

"Let's be real here, the words 'sleep schedule' haven't been in my vocabulary since I was 12 and they released clumpy."

From the serious look on his face, he didn't appear to like my joke too much. "Has this whole thing been stressing you out? It's okay if it has, i understand that but it shouldn't stop you from functioning. You still need to take care of yourself-"

"Relax! It's nothing to do with this, it's just work n' shit." Lier.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

He sighs in defeat, wether he believes me or not, he doesn't push further. "How have you been anyways? Up to anything interesting?"

I think for a moment, resting my head lazily in my hand, whilst the other traces imaginary shapes across the fridgid table. "No, not really. Life's been pretty boring since we lost most of the group." My eyes narrow "I spend most of my time working now, trying to get enough money to get myself a place." Head shifting to look at him once again, my hand stops and relaxes. "When I'm not working my ass off, I'm usually here." Or drinking my life away in the dark abis my room.

He sits back in his chair, tilting his head slightly, something I've always loved about him, even now, it's so... Cute. "When's the last time you spoke to ash?"

Mirroring his actions, my face falls in distain. "Not recently, that's for sure. I've talked to her about all this, but she's certain none of it is real, that were just deluded by childhood fantasies." A scoff falls from my mouth "So I haven't bothered with her."

"I know it's frustrating, she's expressed the same feelings towards me when she's been here, but you can't isolate yourself like this." He moves forward, holding his chained hand out for mine. I oblige. "You're gonna end up alone, and that's not what you deserve."

My grip on his hands tighten as I attempt to conceal my frustration, "I know, I don't want to end up alone, it's just so... Ugh!" Ripping my hands from his own, I rub my face, aggravated "I just don't understand how after everything she still doesn't believe us. After Larry, after Todd, after..." My gaze falters and falls to the table "... You."

"Her friends are getting hurt, and I don't understand how she just doesn't care." I burry my face in my hands.

After everything we've been through together, her complete disregard for anything I, or anyone else has to say, is pushing me to the edge. I know I'm not insane, despite what she might think.

"Don't say that," guilt consumes me at the somber tone of his voice "she does care, in her own way, she just... doesn't understand. She's still out friend, remember that."

I peek at him through my fingers, he's leaned forward again, brows knitted together and sad look in his eyes. He's hurt by her disbelief, I can see it, but like always, he sees the best in her, like he does with everyone. Like he did with me. He's so sweet, so kind, and I'm once again brought back to how. How could this happen? I believe him when he says he had no choice, but why. Why sal? Why the most genuine, most loving man on this earth? It's not fair.

But when has life ever been fair to him?

My head falls forward, hands dropping and hair covering my shameful face, "Yeah, sorry, you're right. I'm just frustrated, you know? It's hard to understand where she's coming from but... She probably feels the same way, huh?"

"Yeah, she does. Can't blame her, she was never as involved as we were in the cult."

The guilt falls away with the force of a waterfall, replaced with uncontrollable rage at the mention of the cult. They caused all of this. I haven't thought about, nor touched anything to do with it since the incident. Why would I when all it does it cause harm and heartache to those who get involved? As soon as this whole thing is over, I don't plan on sticking around long.

"Alright Mr. Fisher, times up." A guard saunters lazily into the room, looking at a sheet of paper. "you've got an appointment with Dr. Enon before your trial."

Blankly, I stare at the man that interrupted our conversation. The world around me begins to dissolve as I realise the time that approaches.

I rise to my feet, legs feeling numb, and as if I could collapse at any moment. My steps feel staggered as I make my way out of the melancholy room. In contrast to the dull, lifeless room I previously sat in, the seemingly endless halls are pristine, bright and somewhat less depressing. Though, it still feels devoid of life.

My body turns and takes a step forward towards sal.

"I'll see you in the court room, okay?" My hands caress his mask, fingers running smoothly across his scruffy hair. Guiding his face up, I lay the ghost of a kiss on his forehead, keeping it there for a moment. "I love you, Sal." A whisper, a secret, a promise, only for us to hear.

A relaxed exhale releases loudly through the holes of his prosthetic, head leaning against my chin slightly. "I love you too..."

"Come on, let's go!"

I glare at the guard overtop of the mop of messy blue hair, releasing his face and taking a miniscule step backwards. A smile sits painfully along my face as we say our farewells and I watch him turn and make his way down the hall.

I stand there for what feels like hours before he finally rounds a corner.

My face falls.

#sal fisher #sally face #sally face x reader #sal fisher x reader #fanfic #part 1 #sal x reader #angst #tw death and shit #fanfiction #sally face fanfiction

[thesamoanqueen]

Blackwater XIII

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: drama, angst.

A/N: since things were going well on one side, they couldn't go well on the other. Life lessons~

She had taken off her dress like a soldier takes off his armour. She hadn't actually fought, maybe only for a few minutes and with words, not with claws and fangs, but she couldn't really complain. Mate or not, she was the stranger and even though she had never been in that role before, she guessed it was normal to have questions about her. On the other hand, it hadn't lasted long, they had lowered their guard before Roman arrive, without saying a word about the trial and Y/N found herself spending the whole lunch between stories of when he was a kid, future meetings and lobsters that disappeared from the table with bottles of wine. It had been nice, putting her in a good mood, but the tension remained until they returned home, just the two of them.

We did it.

She had never cared what people thought of her. Those had always been just wrong opinions and she had done everything to stay as far away as possible from everything and everyone, but now it was different. She had a reason to prove who she was, a million reasons to stay, to build something and even if she had to step out of her comfort zone, it hadn't been bad. Or at least that had been her impression until she returned downstairs, joining Roman who instead didn't seem to want to move from the deckchair by the pool where he had gone to sit.

- I thought it did well - she admitted, accepting his hand when he turned to look at her, a quick and brief smile seeing her with one of his hoodie on.

Something was occupying his head, Y/N could feel it too throught the bond without having to physically feel the tension of his muscles under clothes, as she caressed the back of his neck to calm him.

Maybe they don't-

- It's like that, they both love you – he reassured her, his big brown eyes now looking at her honest smile.

- I like them too... they're amazing.

They really had been with her. His mama had even hugged her when they said goodbye – even though Y/N had risked a paralysis upon contact – and his father, so intimidating at first, had insisted on setting up another meeting after she had offered to accompany him on a fishing trip. He hugged her. They were cute, reminding her of the times when she was a daughter too, she liked them and it was truly more than she ever imagined she could have in her future. A real family.

Lulled by that sensation, Y/N softened against him, his big hand moving lazily on her thigh until it stopped to draw circles on her caramel skin, eyes focused on that point with a serious look.

- You didn't ask why I was late – he mused and Y/N lowered her shoulders with a heavy breath.

So all his thoughts were born from her meeting with the mayor, document dealer, whoever was that man who had tried to speak the voice of authority with her and Solo that morning?

- I did everyone a favor, trust me, whatever Paul says

- Pearce doesn't matter – Roman cut short and Y/N turned to look at him.

If he wasn't late for that appointment, then what?

- I chose to listen to you about my cousins.

Y/N found herself smiling before even nodding.

The informations she had about the border were not so many. Roman avoided talking about it if she was around, much like he had avoided talking about the trial and she had resigned herself to his attempts to keep her away from certain matters, but she knew enough. Whatever loss the twins and therefore the entire Bloodline had suffered, didn’t justify the vibe between them and Roman. She had arrived there seeing them bond like the family they were and now they didn't even speak to each others. It shouldn't have been this way, it didn't really matter what happened and what impact it had, they were still standing, they could still be together, rebuild, start again and that was all that mattered. If she still had some of her family, she wouldn't have to go through everything that happened to her after, they were lucky to still be there for each other and she was happy that Roman decided to make that effort for everyone.

She knew he didn't want to. She felt it. But that step would have been good for everyone, including him.

- It will mean a lot to them – she reminded him, caressing the back of his neck once again.

He didn't move though, his eyes still trained on her, the same expression as he stared at her.

- What's up? – she asked – no jokes about you listening to me. I'm happy you decided to do it

- You're happy for them

- I'm happy for everyone

For them, for him, what was the difference? From what she knew, solving that problem at the border would improve the situation for the entire family. And yes, they would finally stop spending weeks outside trying to fix things, they would start again and so for him, finding himself with one less problem to deal with.

- I'll have to go there, is this okay too? – he asked again and Y/N let her hand slip away.

She hadn't been with him during other fights, but she knew what was out there. She had also gotten her hands dirty in very bad situations and she hadn't thought for a single second that it would be easy, but she was sure that he could do it. Roman was the alpha with the largest territory ever seen in that country for decades, no one had done what he did, he was strong and any obstacle they would put in front of him he could handle it. He had a pack that everyone feared, now her too was there to watch his back, he had nothing to worry about even looking at the situation with all the caution possible.

-You will not be alone, you are never alone – she noted with a glance and Roman tensed.

- It will become my responsibility.

- It doesn't have to, we'll do it together if-

- You will stay here.

What?

What?

She had heard wrong. He hadn't said it. He couldn't have said that. She was his mate and at that moment it was impossible for him to leave her behind. They had to be together. He had managed to leave her alone in a room only after months, he still didn't allow her to go around without Solo or someone to supervise, it was physically impossible for him to move away from her and voluntarily decide to leave her there. And even though he didn't say it and Y/N never thought about it again, she knew that Roman was terrified of losing her or that she might leave. Going away without her, walking away from her when he hadn't even marked her... was out of any discussion. He-… he couldn't be serious.

But as absurd as the possibility seemed, Roman also seemed equally convinced, and her disbelief turned too quickly to offense.

Because it was unthinkable yes, but he was serious. He was leaving her behind.

- Why?! – she demanded to know, her gaze hardening as she watched him bob his head in an attempt to control himself.

- Y/N

- I swear if you say it's for my good-

- You'll stay here.

- No. I won't stay and wait and make dinner for you, I’ll be there too. I owe it to the boys and-

- Now stop! – he exploded with a growl and for a long moment Y/N felt his rage, his wolf, inside her head, as had already happened on the night of the trial.

His hand was threatening to leave a mark on her leg, but Roman released his grip as soon as her body began to feel uncomfortable, clenching his fist around nothing, his shoulders hunched and his gaze lowered. Y/N watched him inhale slowly, blood pumping through his veins and something heavy pressing down on his chest that she wasn't sure was simple annoyance at his rejection. There was more and her hand moved without even having to think, covering his to push him to look up again.

- I can help- she tried, but Roman silenced her before finishing.

- Then for once do what I tell you to do.

***

Jey had dragged him there, lets give him another chance he had said. They both knew how it would end, they had been playing that game since they were four and he always won, ignoring anyone who got in his way, but Jey believed in second chances. Even though they had passed the second one so long ago that they had lost count.

They had grown up like brothers, always together, under the same roof, eating at the same table, doing the same things, hanging out with the same people. They had shared more with Roman than they had with Solo, but he wasn't truly their brother and it was moments like this that showed it, always. When things got bad, you always had to think about Roman. When something needed to be done, it was for Roman. When someone had to take precedence, that someone was Roman. They had grown up together, but he knew he was different, he knew he had been chosen and he had taken advantage of it without remorse, without thinking twice, throwing them into the mud when they tried to take a step further.

He and Jey had earned everything. They had worked hard and done the impossible to get to where they were, but he had taken away the chance to that last step, to really reach him, to really be by his side or show him that he was not so special. By all means, even those that a brother would never use against you. Jey pretended otherwise, lowered his head, looked away and started from scratch every time, but that was too much.

Get up. Stop that.

His voice echoed in his head, begging, scolding him.

Hell, nah. He wouldn't have smiled and nodded to keep the circus going that time, he was tired. They were in this situation because of him, as always because Roman was involved and they had to support him. They had spent the last month at the border, toiling, fighting and now after being scolded, punished like kidz, he also had to accept being humiliated and deprived of what was rightfully his? Even what he had earned?! No way.

- We've got your back, Uce – Jey doubled the dose, positioning himself in front of him to shield him, when Roman turned to look from the car on which he was still holding his ass.

Why the hell his brother loved him so viscerally, Jimmy had never understood. They were a family, he loved Roman too despite everything, but Jey was on another level and had always turned against him in the worst way. He still remembered the day he'd seen Roman nearly split Jey’s head in half for that title of chief, the same day he'd choked him almost dead.

- The Wiseman will let you know what to do next – Roman interrupted, without shaking hands or greetings, rolling up the window again.

He watched him and Paul leave them there, Solo silently getting back into the car and Jey still standing in front of him, his weight shifting from one foot to the other, shoulders turning. Together they could stop him, make him see reason and give him a dose of reality if he didn't want to do it, but his brother was still not ready after all those years.

- He's taking what's belong to us – he exploded, not caring if they were far enough or not.

- We can't leave things as they’re, he's right-

- He's taking what's belong to us, you get it or not?! – he repeated again and Jey turned to look at him, his brow furrowed.

Those territories weren't just the Bloodline's, they were theirs. Of him and of his brother, they were their legacy, their future. They had lost them, they had ended up in the wrong hands, now they answered to others, but if they ended up under Roman's direct control... they could forget about them. For the rest of their days, because he wouldn't give them up.

- Solo will be there too.

- He will give him trash, as he has always done with us.

Silence. Yes…

They had already been there. They had learned over time, growing up, understanding. For Solo it was new, but Roman had already dragged him into his game and they both knew that he would not have reserved a different end for him, especially not now that he was creating something else for himself, not now that his future was the goal and not the one of the entire family. He would have taken everything, passing over anyone. Their offense was an excuse to take more.

He pulled the bag out of the closet near the entrance, throwing it in front of the door without even checking what was inside. He no longer even made the effort to pack his bags, he kept them ready just in case the great Tribal Chief decided to send them to clean up who knows what corner of his empire after a nap. He saw Naomi on the couch, crossing her arms, watching him kick a misplaced box and slam the door.

- Say it – he huffed exasperatedly, he knew that expression.

- Y/N said she would talk to him-

Talk, ha! That was funny!

- And you believed her? – another look. He knew that face too.

- Maybe she actually did and Jey is right.

He really hoped that was the case, because otherwise they would find out later but he wouldn't stand by and watch that time. He would have been ready for everyone.

***

He was alone, but the Wiseman's voice still echoed in his head through his earbuds, as if he had never left, as if Roman hadn't locked himself in the gym to release tension and avoid everyone.

His muscles were starting to pull, a sign that tiredness was setting in, but his legs still bent, his arms still holding the barbell on his shoulders, sweat running down his back soaking the shirt now stuck to his skin. He had to bear that burden, he had to bear his family, he had to bear the bullshit of his cousins and the looks they cast blaming his choices. Choices that he had made because of them and which now forced him to plan everything ten moves in advance, so as not to put at risk even what was currently far from the teeth of his enemies.

- They both know they'll have to stay on the second line while you're there - Heyman reported, as Roman forced another push-up and another.

He would cross the border again for the first time in months, but it was different now. Previously, the attempts of the outsiders were annoyances, not real problems. Before it had been like going hunting, playing with his prey and then getting it out of the way. Now they had ripped something away from him, they were throwing it in his face to humiliate him and even though he knew he would teach them a lesson, that he would take back what was rightfully his, he didn't have the slightest desire to put anything else at risk. No stray would have run away with a shred of what was his, that lesson had to be useful to everyone and ensure they would stay away from his land, his home, Y/N and their future.

- Is it clear? – he asked through clenched teeth, blood pumping, gaze fixed in front of him.

- Absolutely, my Tribal Chief. Everything will remain under control – Heyman quickly assured.

- Well, finish organizing everything and let me have the report tomorrow.

He didn't even wait for another answer, dropping the barbell to the floor with a thud to rip off the earbuds and catch his breath.

Without his voice in his head, the room was silent and for a long moment Roman remained there, taking advantage of that calm, of the peace that surrounded him. Everything seemed incredibly distant, there were no problems, nothing to conquer, no empire to defend, just an empty room and his heart slowly returning to beating normally. He looked distractedly at the clock on the wall, he had been down there for three hours, now it was even past dinner time.

With a heavy breath, he took a towel to dab the sweat on his neck and opened the door, stepping out to put an end to this voluntary withdrawal. In the house there were still some lights on and Roman followed them to the kitchen, surrounded by the same silence that had enveloped him as soon as he had finished talking to the wiseman and stopped training. The living room with its huge couches was tidy, not a cushion out of place and so was the dining room, with its vase of flower and all the chairs lined up. When he arrived in the kitchen only the lights under the forniture were on, the counter empty, but Y/N had placed a message on the fridge.

She had cooked the dinner for him.

“I won't wait and make you dinner!”

She had done it.

He narrowed his eyes, inhaling deeply.

No date just the two of them. They hadn't even had dinner together and even though he sensed she was around by their bond, he didn't even have any idea where she was or what she had done after the argument they had. They had spent the afternoon apart, him locked in the gym and her doing who knows what. But she had cooked dinner for him and in silence Roman warmed up the plate she had left, eating with no one beside him to talk and his gaze fixed beyond the window, from which he could see the edge of the forest.

We promised to take care of her.

He remembered it. It was a constant thought in his mind. A priority need that he was putting first on that occasion too, but it was difficult to explain, it was difficult for her to accept and he couldn't distract himself, not when now there was so much at risk for their future.

They will not screw this.

He finished eating alone, put the plate away alone and went back through the house alone, heading upstairs to at least get the sweat off him, since the weights on his shoulders remained. Up there the situation was no different, a few lights on along the hallway and silence again. When he reached the bedroom he almost expected not to see her, to start worrying that she was out in the middle of the night but instead there she was, with his hoodie still on, curled up in the corner of the bed with her back to him.

He stopped in the doorway to look at her, waiting for a reaction, a sign. Because he knew that she was angry and Roman had learned the hard way what happened when she was angry, for a whole month and instead nothing, not a movement, a word, a breath. He approached slowly, looking at her as he had done for hours, days, when she had just arrived and he could do nothing more.

- Y/N… – he called her softly, but Y/N didn't answer or move.

She had fallen asleep without him.

The thought of it made his mouth curl in annoyance, prompting him to turn and walk to the bathroom. He needed a shower, to burn himself and get rid of that terrible feeling that was sticking to his skin like an indelible stain.

***

She had slept in a corner, trying not to move, her body tense, ears open as hadn't happened for some time now. She had heard him return to their bedroom the night before covered in sweat, she had heard him call her, but she had been unable to answer and he had not even reached out his hand to touch her. He had spent the night like this too, in the opposite corner, far from her, without breathing her scent or holding her under his arm as he always did, until daylight broke and he disappeared for daily routine.

She was left wondering what had happened, curled up in the hoodie she had slept in, one of many of him that she had gotten into the habit of stealing because for some strange reason it made her feel better. But that time it hadn't worked, it hadn't been the same and Y/N had put it away to go on her run, but her run wasn't going as well as she should have either.

Why did it seem so difficult even when things were getting better? The problems at the border could be solved, the elders did not pressure him anymore, his parents were even happy that he had found her, and she tried to let go of old habits to build something together. Yet with every step they took, something else jumped out and a part of her was now starting to wonder if maybe she was seeing things wrong.

She stopped to smell the roots of one of the many trees that surrounded her, her almost reddish paws dug a small furrow at the edge of the path near the house. She recognized that smell, she didn't have to concentrate to know that he too had passed through there on his way back.

He had seemed so exasperated the day before, as if dealing with her was the point of no return and she had felt angry, frustrated and hurt. Y/N wanted to help, support him, she was trying to be what she was supposed to be, a good mate, yet it was quite clear that she wasn't doing that.

She went up the path, arriving at the empty back of the house and shifting only when she was in the garden. The house was quiet, lots of space and many empty rooms, but Y/N knew even without having to check that he was there and not out doing who knows what. They hadn't spoken since the day before, since the argument they had near the pool and quickly, Y/N crossed the living room, stopping just before the stairs, when her eyes fell on the bag next to the front door.

I don't like it.

When Roman turned to look at her, leaving the kitchen, his expression was impassive, but her wolf cried anyway even though she had just growled her disapproval of whatever he was doing and kept doing, after checking her with a glance.

Not a word. He hadn't even tried to get closer.

I don't like it!

- What are you doing? – she asked softly, ignoring the wolf voice in her head, while he placed who knows what inside the bag and got back on his feet.

- It's just a couple of changes.

He cannot leave us here!

He was actually doing it instead.

- ... are you already leaving? – she didn't think it would happen the next day, she thought it would take more time, a few days, that Paul would have to prepare things.

- We've left them running around for too long.

She nodded in silence, even though he had his back to her, evidently busy arranging what was necessary for that trip.

She had thought several times about the twins and all the time they had spent away from home in the last month, now it was his turn. He would have gone there in their place, crossed the border, met those who threatened them and it would not have been a peaceful encounter. It was necessary, indispensable for their family and she had asked him to do it first, but now a part of her couldn't think of anything other than how they were about to part ways for the first time since they had met.

- You can do it. I know you can – she said, swallowing a heavy breath.

Roman stood, silently with his back to her for a long moment until Y/N saw him turn again, slow and inexorable as always, to move towards her. A shiver ran through her body feeling him close to her again, sensing his true scent, his big brown eyes scanning her even before his hand rose to caress her face. Y/N felt his thumb rub over her soft cheek, graze her plump lips and move down her chin, hand covering her throat for a moment as he always did when he was deep inside her, then stopping at her weak spot near the shoulder and squeezing just enough to make her knees tremble.

- I’ll do it. Im not one of my cousins.

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[mci-writing]

I’m so ready to go home, why am I still a state away 4 days after I was supposed to leave RAHHHHH-

Bandages (Ishigami Senku x Reader)

Warnings: Spoilers for New America Arc (specifically chapters 158-161 give or take), angst with a happy ending, angst and fluff, mention of Senku being shot but no explicit detailing of it that I can remember 😭 sorry if there is, gender neutral pronouns but there may be plausible she/her that I missed (very very sorry if there is)

Giggles flow out of an open window, a desk lamp the only source of light in the room as low music plays from a speaker. The owner lays out across a bed, feet happily kicking in the air while the fluff of their socks frisk each other in passing. The international calls on the phone will more than likely wrack the bill up, but it's hard to care when their closest friend is chatting away on the phone. It's getting late for them, inching into the next day, while their friend's day is slowly approaching the evening.

“So you tried lion, just like that?” (Y/n) holds their phone close to their ear as they roll onto their back, head hanging off the side of their bed while the plush of their blankets presses into the back of their neck, "I thought you were joking about it earlier... What did it taste like? Was it good?"

The other person on the line chuckles at that, grinning as he sits in a desk chair and scoots it to the desk in his current room with his arms crossed. He flicks on a light, grabbing a pen as he pulls a notebook towards him, "I'm ten billion percent sure you're more interested in the food I've been eating here than my research, Dragonfruit."

"Of course not, Leekboy. Tell me all about your disease research onnn... Ebola!"

This is their second phone call together for the day, the first during (Y/n)'s lunch break at school while Senku was getting up for the morning. They'd talk for an hour, the whole lunch break, until the two had to disperse for their respective duties, and then would reserve ay other catching up for night calls. It was technically both of their way of tricking the other into going to bed, but they'd spend weekends up for hours on end talking to each other about whatever came to mind until they'd pass out.

Senku was currently talking about the advancement on their research, in as much detail as possible, as per usual. (Y/n) might not understand much of it, but they still let him excitedly tell them about the topic. It's enough for them, satiates the longing to see their friend and calms the tugging feeling of them missing him. Deep down, Senku also knows they don’t understand a word of what he’s saying, but he still entertains them.

“Buuut,” He finally ends his rant when he can sense (Y/n) getting bored, a grin forming on his lips as he leans more against his shoulder, adjusting the phone a little better. He’s fully stopped writing, twirling his pen between his fingers before slamming it on the desk, “I’m ten billion percent sure I’ll be back in Japan soon. I finally got what I actually came down here for and our recent test trials are looking promising.”

He leans back into his chair, an entertained twinkle in his eye as he hears the realization dawns on them. He holds back a snort at the noise they make, “Really?”

“I’d give it a solid week or two,”

Senku jumps at the loud bang on the other line, a soft ‘Ow’ following a little after. (Y/n) lifts their face off of the book they’d just smashed it into, sheepishly laughing as they scrub the squashed feeling off, “Try coming back in one piece, please? I’ve really missed you… you being in the science lab every day after class. It’s soooo boring not being able to mess with you.”

The line’s quiet a moment before Senku lets out a few chuckles, “I guess a lab’s not the same if you don’t have a few goofballs running around you,” He responds after a beat, “Get excited, ‘cause when I get back I’ve got a few project ideas.”

“Ohh, joy. I’ll be sure to warn Taiju and Yuzuriha,” (Y/n) pulls up their group chat and happily sends a message, taking a minute to check the time. The sight makes them shiver, a groan releasing from the deepest parts of their body, “It’s suuuper late…” They peek at the time once more, doing a quick calculation in their head before their eyebrows furrow, “And it’s definitely getting late for you, sir.”

“I’m not even tired-,” His phone rings, a FaceTime request with (Y/n)’s glaring face staring right back at him. He feels his face warm at the small pout on their lips, eyebrows knitted together with narrowed (e/c) eyes.

He watches their mouth move as they say, “Turn on your camera,” and he’s intelligent enough to do as they say. He’s rewarded with a smile, “It’s nice to see your face again, Leekboy.”

“You could’ve seen it more often if you just asked, Dragonfruit,” He easily quips back, setting his stuff aside neatly before getting up to lay his head down. His grin grows at how flustered they get, “It’s nice to see you too, (Y/n).”

“You should’ve started with that!”

~~~

“Senku!” The sound of gunshots still ring through (Y/n)’s ears days after the fact. Every time they look at him they remember each and every detail of the attack: the blood, the look of shock on everyone’s faces, the helplessness they felt watching Senku be targeted and almost taken out by a sniper.

He may be resting now, but (Y/n) knows that first chance he has he’ll jump right back up to lead, even if he’s still in the process of healing. They’ve heard him whispering his plans for once he’s back on his feet and it makes their heartbeat pound in their ears. There’s not much they can do to stop him.

“Hey, Leekboy,” They call when they finally get him alone, sitting on the edge of his medical bed. They’re unable to look at him, (e/c) eyes staring straight ahead to the walls of the lower deck, “Promise me you’ll take it easy?”

“Heh,” He chuckles, a little more breathless than before but better than the last few days since the incident, managing to tilt his head to look to them, “It’ll take more than that, Dragonfruit. 10 billion percent sure-,”

“Don’t brush it off! Stanley still hit you with his bullets,” Their eyes finally meet his, tearing up a little. He’s a little taken aback by their small outburst, analyzing their face and body language, “I… wouldn’t be able to handle you being gone, whether you’re worried about it or not. I could barely handle when you were off in Africa for a few months, but if you died?”

They feel their tears fall onto the skin of their hands. The cool feeling shocks them as they start to realize how worked up they are. They feel Senku squeeze their hand, pulling it a little closer to him after he manages to sit up.

“Well, get excited, cause I’m not planning on dying anytime soon,” He reassures. He doesn’t stop them from laying their forehead on his shoulder, his cheek pressed against the back of it, “If I did, you’d miss seeing my face-”

“Senku,” They state, straightening up and looking into his eyes. Their grip on his hand tightens, shifting their hold to press their hands to their chest. He can feel their heart hammering, the air around them stilling as their (e/c) eyes look through him, “I’m worried about you. You’ve almost died so many times, but this time…” They hesitate, their breath hitching as the tears start to roll down their cheeks. Their shoulders shudder as they attempt to hold back everything they’ve been bundling up, “This time…”

They’re unable to stop the tears, their free hand doing it’s best to run at their eyes and clear their sight. They begin full on sobbing, letting his hand go as they hold themself. (Y/n) leans into him, like they have numerous times before, and cried into his chest, drenching his bandages. Senku doesn’t hesitate to hold them their, focusing on the wall ahead of them as he takes in their words.

This isn’t his first time seeing them cry, but he’s never seen them openly cry over something concerning him. It’s makes him feel even worse, that he could cause them such distress due to his reckless actions and that they’ve been holding it in.

“(Y/n),” He finally speaks as their sons die down, his hold tightening as he pulls them more into his chest, “I promise, I’m going to survive this and I’ll try not to make you worry so much again.”

They shift in his hold, getting a better look at him as he stares down at them, (e/c) eyes meeting his crimson ones that are a mix of serious and teasing. His mouth slowly curls up into his usual confident grin, his hand coming up and wiping their tears away.

They mirror it with a smile of their own, laughing a little, “Yeah, Leekboy? I’ll miss seeing you geek out in your lab with Chrome if you’re gone.”

“Of course, Dragonfruit,” He teases back, “Heh, I’d miss seeing your face.”

He doesn’t miss the way their face flushes or the small shift in their body language as they avert their eyes, “I’d miss seeing your face too…” A small glint reaches their eyes, “Senkie~”

He grimaces at that, flicking their forehead and narrowing his eyes, “I prefer Leekboy-,”

“What happened to preferring Sen~ku?”

He grips their cheeks between his fingers, continuously squeezing them til their lips pucker, “I’m gonna kiss you to make you shut up.”

“I’m not gonna stop you.”

He doesn’t hesitate, cupping their face before pulling them closer. Their noses brush against each other, his breath fanning over their lips, before softly connecting. It’s quick, a little nervous, and leaves them both smiling. They both go straight back to each other, deepening the second kiss before inevitably pulling away for air.

(Y/n)’s a little dazed after, their hands at some point gripping his shoulders. They use them to keep them steady and grounded.

“Holy shit…” They mumble, Senku chuckling at their reaction. They take him in, remembering his bandaged state.

Wait, how long has he changed his bandages out?

His drenched bandages…

“Shit, your bandages!” They hop off the bed, pressing a quick peck to the top of his head, and rush out of the room in search of Luna or a new set of bandages stored away.

#ishigami senku #ishigami senkuu #ishigami senku x reader #ishigami senkuu x reader #senku ishigami x reader #senkuu ishigami #senkuu ishigami x reader #senku ishigami #dr stone x reader

[imdefyingmavity]

Fav ghosts headcannons?

Too many to name! This show has really given me brain rot and just when I was starting to think the hyperfix was ending.

Okay some random ones.

As ghosts don't need to breathe, sometimes they will just go to the lake and lay on the bottom to watch the fish, or Thomas try to drown himself, or Kitty doing her rendition of Part Of Your World. As they also don't feel much pain, another fun activity is daring each other to jump off the roof. Fanny refuses as she does this enough every morning.

Only four people knew about Mary's trial before she had her big talk about it in S4; Robin, Annie, Humphrey and Alison. Robin is rarely tactful with everyone but as he was the one to watch her die and the first ghost she met he's always been sweet with her about it, Humphrey has talked her through many sleepless nights and of course she relived it all to Annie who was more determined to help unleash her feminine rage. Alison being the last one encouraged her to tell the others (Alison had to take a moment to cry after though because Christ that was awful). Likewise Captain also told Alison the story about Havers before he told the others as it was easier to confide in one person, and she said to just tell the others when he was ready as Mary did but it took him a bit longer to work up the courage until he thought he was literally at death-death's door.

Robin didn't just figure out his ghost power with the invention of electricity, he's always had a connection to thunder storms but rarely tried to practice anything with it as they were part of his ptsd, and sometimes when he got emotional lightning always seemed to strike closer to him. Often times during a big storm other ghosts would find him cowering somewhere like a frightened dog (though ironically he loves fireworks). It's why saving Mike was such a big deal, he had no idea what being struck by lightning again as a ghost would mean, if it would hurt or destroy him but did it anyway (you're welcome, Mike and Alison!).

Julian is Mia's favorite uncle - no of course she loves them all but he has the advantage of being able to text and a betting account he can spend on nothing except her, and he might spoil her a lot to make himself feel better about missing out on his own daughter but they do develop a cute bond even if Alison isn't always sure he's the best influence for her daughter she doesn't come between them.

One I've mentioned before but it really is my favorite, Kitty being able to see Robin, Annie, Humphrey and Mary when she was growing up and having them be her imaginary friends, which they loved until Eleanor teased her for it and forced her to "grow up" and she lost her Sight. It broke all their hearts and they hated not being able to protect Kitty from Eleanor's mental abuse or let her know she was there. Yeah that flashback of their father taking Eleanor to the ball and leaving Kitty to cry? They're all sat around her wanting to give her a hug, I can't unsee it. I wrote a whole fic going into this I love it so much.

#bbc ghosts #bbc ghosts headcanon #robin the caveman #mary guppy #julian fawcett

[thezombieprostitute]

Sparks Fly - Part 5

Summary: After working as an engineer for Wilford & Gilliam Trust for several years you find evidence of seedy dealings and burned books. After turning in the evidence you find yourself in danger and seek help. You're taken into the protection of a mob family where you run into your high school best friend, Mace.

Word Count: ~1300

Warnings: Courtroom stress. Implied violence and attempted murder. Please let me know if I missed any.

Part 4 -- Part 6

Series Masterlist

The day of the testimony arrives way too quickly for you. You can barely eat anything that morning and only do so at Mace’s insistence. You’re already scared and don’t want the threat of vomiting making your nerves worse. 

He talks you through everything, emphasizing the security his people are gonna have looking out for you. “Barton’s gonna have an aerial view over the courthouse. GBH is gonna be in the crowds around the place, following any leads Barton gives him. And inside the courthouse is gonna be Nick.” He shows you a photo of Nick so you can search for him if you need to. “On top of that, Huffman’s taken care of the mole in his office and our intel guys have triple checked the rest of his team so the legitimate security force you have is going to protect you as well.”

You fight another wave of fear as you remember your first days in witness protection. The nonstop fear and seemingly never ending line of people wanting to kill you. Mace sees you tense and immediately pulls you in for a hug, gently kissing the top of your head, rubbing your arm.

“And after today,” you whisper, “do we know what’ll happen to me?”

“Teach managed to get you another week of being in this safehouse, pending emergency situations,” Mace tells you. “That way we can see if Wilford & Gilliam even have the resources to retaliate after everything.”

“They seem the type to spend their last penny on taking out someone who cost them so much.”

“Yeah, but at the same time, your testimony is going to do a lot of good for a lot of people hurt by their products, tactics and everything else,” Mace comforts. “I know it might not mean much to you, but you really are doing a lot of good with this. A major civil case, at the very least, is going to be able to use your testimony to give families some kind of retribution.” 

Mace had been talking with Barber, the Family’s lawyer, on a daily basis. He wanted to make sure that when he gave you information, comfort, it was backed up by someone who actually knew their stuff. Barber was quick to give Mace and Teach support for keeping you safe because of the good involved in taking down Wilford & Gilliam. There was a major class action lawsuit only able to go forward because of you. It affected several people in the Family’s territory which helped the push for more protection for you. 

You push yourself up, “I should probably get showered and dressed. Huffman’s gonna be here in an hour or so, right?”

“Right,” Mace confirmed. “And you know I wouldn’t let you leave with someone I didn’t trust to keep you safe.”

“Right,” you nod.

Mace is first to the courthouse. He’s not allowed on the text chain between either of your security teams but he is allowed to text if he sees something or someone questionable. He’s keeping an eye on the courthouse website’s calendar, making sure he knows if any changes happen. He’s nervous about the whole thing and grateful they don’t have good coffee or he’d be even more jittery. 

Once the proceedings begin, though, he calms down a bit. He’s in the back row of the right room at the right time. He takes a look around at the other people in the room, trying to memorize important identifiers in case identification is needed later. He’s practiced at making sure to not immediately look up when someone enters or leaves the room. He knows how to look like just another bored face. I’ve got this, he lets himself think. 

The room is far from empty, the giant conglomerate that is Wilford & Gilliam is on trial. The rows are occupied by victims and press alike. Because of that, he isn’t surprised when someone sits a little too close to him. What does surprise him is that he recognizes the signet ring on the person’s hand. Trying to not be obvious Mace looks as best he can from the corner of his eye but the guy is too tall. He needs a new angle. 

Thankfully that’s when you’re brought in, dressed in the business formal attire Teach had picked up for you. Your entry was the excuse he needed to look up and glance to his side, confirming his suspicions. Franco the Younger, hitman for Wilford & Gilliam. How the hell did he get past Barton and G? Mace wastes no time subtly pulling out his phone and texting a message to the team. 

He makes sure to keep looking forward, in case you need him, but his focus is on Franco, searching for any and all movement. The Franco’s were dedicated to their corporate overlords. All Mace knew was that they had no limits. They’d do whatever was needed to get their prey. They’re the ones that killed Curtis’s brother Edgar, eager to be rid of the competition for the favor of their CEO’s. The fact that Curtis could confirm some of the more heinous rumors about the brothers made Mace’s skin crawl.

His relief comes in the form of Nick taking the seat on the other side of Franco. Nick stretches his arms on the back of the pew, he’s able to pat Mace’s shoulder a little in an attempt to be comforting. 

Franco looks at Nick who whispers, just loud enough that Mace can make it out, “you know, me and my Lady have a party to go to in a few days that has me all kinds of worked up and stressed. I’d love to take that energy out on someone. What do you say, Franco? You wanna help me with that?”

Mace lets himself smile as he sees Franco’s hand clench into a fist. The Franco’s may have the stronger reputation for ruthlessness but Nick’s reputation for efficiency in causing pain is well nigh legendary. Franco wordlessly stands and walks outside of the courtroom. Nick follows a few minutes later, letting Mace focus on you. 

You’ve been doing an amazing job in your testimony. You’re hitting all the important notes, making sure your explanations aren’t overly technical while not being so dumbed down that holes can be poked in your words, allowing doubt to seep in. It took up so much of your brain power you didn’t have the energy to be scared or look around for Mace. You keep your attention on the questions only occasionally needing to fidget with something for your nerves. 

As much as you’d wanted to keep Mace nearby for the pre-trial prep you had to admit, Huffman was likely the better person for it. He talked you through all of the things that were going to happen, gave you some advice for how to handle yourself and speak to the jury at their level. You took all of his advice to heart and, given the looks you’ve seen from the lawyers and the families in the gallery, you’ve been doing well. 

The only thing that you couldn’t really prepare for was how much time was needed. It felt like you’d been answering questions for hours without a break. Maybe that was their tactic? Wear you down to make you less intelligible? Less trustworthy as a source? It was a major relief to you when the judge called for a recess. You’d get some food and some friendly company to help settle your nerves before round two. 

Part 4 -- Part 6

Series Masterlist

Tagging:

@chibijusstuff

@jamneuromain

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@rebekahdawkins

@texmexdarling

Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

#mafia!james mace #mob!james mace #james mace x reader #mace x reader #mafia au #mafia!mace #mob!mace

[deadeyeedangel]

trial run - moira o'deorain x intern!reader

˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩ hi ! it's my wife's birthday today, so naturally i thought i'd finally get around to those hcs i was planning on writing! these posts will probably never be formatted with those pretty little headers i see around and i'm pretty unapologetic about it, i can't lie i kiiiinda care a lot less about the presentation and more about the actual writing and i'm a pretty busy person, soooo... sorry i guess? anyway sorry for yapping and i hope you all enjoy, HAPPY BIRTHDAY DOCTOR O'DEORAIN!!!

˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩ TAGS: sfw, reader was meant to be fem but tbh no gendered terms are really used so reader can be seen as gender-neutral, age difference (reader is implied to be a doctoral student in early 20s), canon-divergent/au because i'm projecting my own internship problems here i cannot help it, moira being moira but it's way tamer than usual, actually kinda really fluffy i needed some comfort oops, mayyy make a part 2 with the date if you guys reeeeally want it :p

✧˚ · . suffice to say she wasn't a fan on your first day- to be honest she wasn't a fan even before then. the doctor preferred to work in solitude and silence, and hearing that she would have to practically babysit a doctoral student for a whole summer? forget it.

✧˚ · . she very begrudgingly opened up to the idea of having a shadow, however, after she found out her lab would be receiving more funding as a result of the research you were being hired to do. unfortunately that still didn't mean she liked you, though.

✧˚ · . you were young, fresh-faced and naïve, and when you shuffled in through the doors to her lab you were met with a cold presence that you didn't necessarily care for at all. it was what you were expecting when you were told who you would be working with, though, so it didn't come as a surprise. after all, no matter how much better you thought you would fare working alongside your sweet professor dr. ziegler, there was only one in the facility that could find even some use in a bioinformatics student.

✧˚ · . you barely had a moment to introduce yourself before the lanky irishwoman waved off your extended hand.

"wasting time will get you nowhere. unless you wish to bring me my coffee and just sit there every day, make yourself actually useful."

you were silent after that, doing exactly as she said and leaving her alone. no words were exchanged for the rest of the day.

✧˚ · . your first week was pretty unremarkable, but you were easing into the schedule you had made, making a small dent in the large workload you had to do for your thesis. moira was always just moira, working silently in her own corner of the lab and occasionally taking a break to examine your own work but saying nothing at all. by week two, however, the silence was beginning to drive you insane.

✧˚ · . your first real conversation was initiated, surprisingly, by moira. the older woman was hovering over your shoulder as usual, examining your catalogs of the dna structures and compositions of the various modified rabbits she kept in the lab, and she decided to snarkily point out you had missed a section. expecting that to be the only thing she had to say, you sighed and corrected it before moving on but she kept speaking, pointing out areas that you missed in a tone that you could only describe as pointed and patronizing.

✧˚ · . in certain... other situations, you'd find being talked to in this manner by a quite attractive older woman to be much more pleasant, but this was your hard work she was critiquing.

✧˚ · . don't worry, though, it's her love language. she might not say it but she wants you to succeed.

✧˚ · . expect more conversations about your work and hers. you begin to speak more in the mornings when you first walked in, and at nights when you left.

✧˚ · . as the days went by and your final deadline for your thesis was approaching quicker and quicker, you ended up spending nearly all 24 hours of each day in the lab, and of course, moira had noticed.

✧˚ · . she leaves small things out for you that she'd usually leave for just herself: two mugs of coffee now, two plates with some small meals, two shot glasses in case things got rather dire... but don't ask her about them, she'll shut down that it was her doing quite quickly.

✧˚ · . one very early morning she returns from the bathroom to find you slumped over your desk, fast asleep. your face was smushed against your keyboard, keying in a constant and ever-growing string of the letter h into your catalog. if you ever found out and asked, she would have simply said she didn't want the data to be messed up. however, that was most certainly not the case as she gingerly lifted your head up carefully to delete the keyboard smash, saving your work and turning off your computer before leaving you back to your rest.

✧˚ · . she was back at her work for a good five minutes before she decides to take her lab coat off, draping it over your still-sleeping form like a makeshift blanket. you woke up that morning confused but grateful, with a slightly flushed doctor o'deorain saying she simply didn't want you to get sick, as it was cold in the lab anyway.

✧˚ · . your thesis was due the day before your last day of work, and moira was quieter than usual. you've been stressed and working dilligently all day, but when you finally submit it right before the clock struck midnight, moira got up from her side of the lab, and retrieved two glasses and a bottle of champagne.

✧˚ · . you never thought she'd be the type to celebrate this sort of thing, especially when it took her away from her work, but when she motioned you to come over, you couldn't help but listen.

✧˚ · . clinking your glasses together, moira congratulated you on your work, and over the alcohol, conversation brewed quickly. you spoke of your plans for the future, your research, her research, discussion flowing for hours, as if it were meant to be. a well-received moment of relaxation for the doctor, you assumed, surprised she'd spend it with you rather than alone.

✧˚ · . she never got the chance to ask if perhaps the two of you could see each other... outside of the lab, maybe for dinner or a coffee. a trial run if anything, she said.

✧˚ · . or- well, she didn't really say it. angela came up to you after a class and told you on her behalf. nerd with a crush doing nerd with a crush things, i guess.

#overwatch #overwatch x reader #moira o'deorain #moira overwatch #moira x reader #i heart my bitch wife that wants to kill me #moira o'deorain x reader

[tundra1029]

Love

A/N: please read with the audio playing in the background, immersion at its peak or so i would say, can imagine as g!n/male/female/etc. just making a smol drabble cuz the audio is... just inspiring for me. Have a Happy Valentines Day!

WARNING: A lil angst, fluffy fluff!

You came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, having just finished showering, you walk towards your closet to acquire your clothes for the day as the radio buzzes and turns on.

It's when she walks in that door, and you look at her like it's the first time you've ever seen her.

All dressed up in your favorite outfit and ready to go, you get out of your dorm and immediately see your s/o standing behind your door and you grin.

and your heart drops, and you're amazed, and you can't wait to tell all your friends about this girl. You can't wait to tell your mom about this girl. And you simply say to yourself, "This is her. This is the one." That's love.​

They greet you as they always have and you say hi, stepping closer to them and leaning in to press your forehead to theirs and sweetly kiss them.

We're constantly so worried about a certain person being the one or that one person may not be the one, and we're wasting our time.

You both hold hands as you start your way to the cafeteria in order to get the day started.

When has love ever been the wrong thing to do? Loving someone is never the wrong thing to do. Loving yourself is the best thing you can do. And, why not love yourself and love someone else? That's the best of the best.​

You stare lovingly at their face as they begin to convey their morning to you. You were mesmerized with their eyes, so deep that you can keep getting lost in them, with their lip, so lush and kissable that if it were possible, you would never part from them.

When you see the person you love. When you see them, and you just know that is something great, and that is something that not a lot of people can feel, and you should be very, very thankful that you're able to feel that way. 

You let go their hand and lay your head on them and kisses their fair and soft covered skin as they wrap their arm around you and softly squeezes you. Praying to the gods you believed in and convey your gratefulness for gifting you such an amazing, kind and patient person who was with you through all the trials and sadness in life.

And if you're able to get that person, you should be even more thankful because people spend their whole lives thinking that that's the right person, and yet they can't have them, 

They kisses your cheek and whispers an i love you as they pull you closer to them, staring at you full with love and devotion.

So you best be grateful because love is the best thing that's ever happened to this world.

You wonder how you got so lucky as to have them with you as the light from the sun behind them casts a halo of light around their head, looking like an angel has come down and shower you with love. You have never had felt this love before and it scares and excites you but you decided to take that leap of faith and closed in on their face and you nuzzle their nose and they giggle, sounding like harmonious little bells.

 Love is the best feeling you can ever feel, whether it's from your mother, your father, your family, your brother, whatever it is, or whether it's from a loved one. You should never let it go. You should never let it die.

As you both walk into the cafeteria, you see your Ex hanging around with their arm wrapped around their toy of the month. Your eyes glosses over as flashes of arguments, fights, doors slamming and blood fills your mind but before you spiral into those memories, your s/o pulls you closer and pushes your face into their chest as they glare at your Ex.

 And just because your heart is broken one time, that doesn't mean you aren't supposed to love. 

You blush as they lead you to a table filled with friends and loved ones. They were looking at you both with grins and teasing smiles as they see your s/o being protective over your being.

That just means you weren't the right person for them, and they weren't the right person for you, otherwise they would still be there.​

As you sat down on a chair, you began to think of the what ifs and the what would be. What if your Ex didnt abuse you, What if they didnt save you, what if you werent enough for them. You look at your s/o who is talking to one of your friends with topics that they always talk about, you see their eyes light up with passion as they keep on talking. You close your eyes and get rid of those horrible thoughts and decides right then and there that you will always love and cherish them for as long as you are able to, you lay your head on their shoulder and nuzzle their neck as you whisper under your breath an i love you too.

So, please, never stop loving, ever. Love is the best thing. And never stop loving yourself.​

A/N: this is not proof read so sorry if this is bad and all. This was the first time i ever made a fic this long but i do hope you enjoy reading this! Happy Valentines to you all!

Tag list: @i984 @eviekensington @maryannecrimsworth @wol-fica @cursedchar @short-black-diamond @dragonfirerogue

#wednesday x reader #Wednesday Addams x Reader #enid sinclair x reader #larissa weems x reader #bianca barclay x reader #yoko tanaka x reader #divina x reader

[theodorelore]

Can you write platonic gladers x gn child reader (8 - 10), like when their in the scorch trials

- this is based off the first part of the scorch trials- i plan at some point to make another part(s) to finish the book. honestly when i started this, i planned to have more written, but then i got 1k words down and decided i could make another part HAHA

↱ platonic!gladers x gn!reader

↱ cw: none

↱ summary: the very beginning of the scorch trials

↱ a/n: thanks for the request:)

the start

the first thing you noticed when you walked into the dormitory was how beautiful it looked. after all those months living in the glade, this looked like something out of a movie- even if you hadn't seen one of those before. your saviors led the group of survivors into the main room, saying how on either side was a room to sleep in, as well as bathrooms. 

it was almost too good to be true, you snuck a glance over at thomas, and he seemed to be in shock about the whole ordeal. you felt a wave of sadness when you remembered about chuck, but quickly was replaced by an unrecognizable need for food. apparently, your saviors knew that you were all hungry, and had appeared with pizza.

actual pizza. your mouth started watering as minho grabbed your hand and led you to the front of the line. frypan, who was at the very front, had no issues with you cutting the line. after receiving three huge pieces of pizza, he led you over to a nearby couch, and joined the line.

the pizza was better than anything you could have imagined; the cheese was melty, and the pepperoni was insanely good. newt took a spot beside you, laughing at the amount of pizza sauce on your face. he grabbed his napkin and gently wiped the excess sauce off of your face. you wrinkled your nose at him, taking another huge bite of the pizza. 

"really?" he asked, his face looked disapprovingly, but his eyes showed amusement.

just at that moment, thomas sat on the other side of you, "c'mon newt, leave the kid alone." he told him, reaching behind you to swat at his shoulder. you stuck your tongue out at him, smiling. 

minho was the last to join the three of you, but by the way the three of them were laughing and speaking to each other, it felt like they had been there for a while. you finished your last slice, and not even a second later, thomas was sliding one of his slices onto your plate. you shook your head, trying to hand it back to him, but all he did was claim he was full. you reluctantly finished the slice, ignoring the look on thomas's face.

once the gladers had all finished eating, a woman came in to take the dirty plates away. after she left, another woman came in to show you where you'd be sleeping. the room had about twenty bunk beds inside of it, and there was two bathrooms, each with ten showers. the boys let you pick out your bunk first, you chose a top bunk while thomas picked the bottom one. newt and minho were beside you. after that, the woman said there was clothes in the drawers, so to feel free to shower while there. you picked out some pajama pants and a hoodie, and then spending a good twenty minutes in the shower.

after leaving the bathroom, you noticed that neither newt, thomas, or minho had moved during the entire time you had been showering.

"you guys okay?" you asked, starting to climb the latter of the bunk bed.

"yeah, why?" newt asked as thomas and minho started walking towards the bathroom.

you shook your head, "no reason." you then started to unmake your bed, getting underneath the blankets.

you saw thomas come out of the bathroom and start to unmake his bed. "alright y/n, i'm gonna go shower, i'll see you in the morning, okay?" newt told you, seeing how you were already falling asleep.

"g'night." you mumbled, and then you were out like a light

—

rough hands grasped your sides, shaking you. you groaned, trying to swat the hands grabbing you, but they didn't let you go. 

"y/n, you need to wake up right now. something's wrong." a voice said, and you opened one of your eyes slightly. only then did you hear the other sounds of what was happening in the room. it sounded like animals were being tortured. then you saw that newt was the one who was still holding you. 

"what's going on?" you asked, trying to get out of his hold.

newt's face was pale, "we don't know, but you need to stay there. don't move."

you didn't have time to question him as he shoved the blanket over your face again, and told you not to take it off, and then he was gone again. you could still hear those awful sounds but was too afraid to try and figure out what it was coming from. 

you could also hear the sounds of newt, minho, and thomas speaking about something, but couldn't figure out what it was being said. 

then you heard something that would most likely stay with you forever. there was a loud bang from somewhere beside you, and then someone saying "kill me!" over and over again. you don't know how long you sat there, covering your ears, and cowering in fear, before newt was beside you again. 

"c'mon," he picked you up, "we're getting out of here." you kept your eyes on the floor, not wanting to see who was making those awful noises.

newt carried you back to where you had pizza the night before, only it was pitch black inside. he let you down, letting you hold his hand instead. they stood in silence before minho decided that he was going to be the one to start looking for the light switches. thomas also started to look, before crashing into a table.

minho must of got to the light switch because suddenly, light illuminated the previously dark room. everyone gasped, looking at the sight in front of them. there were bodies hanging from the ceiling.

thomas tried to cover your eyes, but you had already seen. it was the people from the night before. 

it was a blur after that, thomas and newt was conducting people to look for teresa, while minho was in charge of watching you. they had been in the room that teresa was supposed to be inside of, when the door opened again, and a boy who you've never seen before came walking out with thomas.

minho immediately jumped to his feet, pushing you behind him, "who is that? and where's teresa?" 

thomas just shrugged, "he says his name is aris, and he doesn't know how he got here." thomas turned to walk back out into the common area but stopped.

"are you okay?" you asked, seeing his hesitation.

"the bodies are gone."

after that statement, a loud alarm started, just like the one in the maze.

all chaos broke out.

#platonic x reader #the maze runner x reader #newt x reader #newt x y/n #newt x you #thomas x reader #thomas x you #thomas x y/n #minho x reader #minho x y/n #minho x you

[rallamajoop]

Resident Evil Village: A needlessly detailed hour-by-hour timeline

Say what you like about Ethan Winters, that man can get a heck of a lot done in a day. Roughly the complete events of Resident Evil Village, just for a start – the timeline’s actually pretty clear on that front. Ethan stumbles into the village just before dawn on February 9, and fights his final boss battle with Miranda at just about the same time on February 10, the following day.

Look, he’s got a daughter to rescue, okay, he’ll sleep when he’s dead (almost literally, in fact – that period just before dawn after Miranda rips his heart out is all the shut-eye he gets).

Exactly what time everything happens within that day is a little less obvious – so naturally, it’s only after I’ve already posted a whole fic that kind of hinges on building a semi-complete timeline of every memorable injury Ethan receives that I went back to the game and realised, oh shit, there actually are specific times of day spelled out all over the place! There are clocks in some buildings, diary entries complete with date and time – and it (mostly) all stacks up!

I mean, up to a point – somewhere in Donna’s house, things get weird. But I don’t think that part will really surprise anyone.

And since I’ve already spent way too long piecing together disparate clues for my timeline posts about the ages of the four lords and when the Mia/Miranda switcheroo happened in the days leading up to the game, what the hell – let’s take it one level finer, and look at the hour-to-hour events of the game itself.

Our first major source is the in-game diary, which you can access via the maps page. I wouldn't take this thing too literally – I really doubt Ethan’s actually sitting down every so often to write about his day and sketch detailed pictures of whatever shit he’s just seen – it’s more here just to summarise recent events for any player who accidentally skipped some cutscenes or wants a quick refresher.

Times in the diary aren’t very precise, just ‘dawn’, ‘early morning’, etc, but they map out a rough series of events.

Dawn (or probably some time before dawn): Ethan wakes up after the truck crash in the forest Early Morning: Ethan reaches the village, encounters the old hag, etc Morning: Ethan reaches Luiza’s house, is put on trial by Miranda, escapes and reaches the castle Noon: Ethan escapes the castle and the Duke sends him on his quest Afternoon: Ethan defeats Donna and Moreau, and battles through the stronghold. Evening: Ethan sets off for Heisenberg’s factory, meets Chris, battles Heisenberg, etc Dawn: Final battle with Miranda

I’d have called it the middle of the night by the time Ethan finally battles Heisenberg, but the slight timeskip to dawn does make sense, since Ethan spends some time dead in the gap there. Also, damn, that was one busy afternoon! (Especially if you’re me, and squeezing all the optional bosses and side-areas into your schedule.) But maybe we can take it that not much actual time passes in Donna’s house – who knows how long hallucinations take in real time?

Anyway, those are the broad strokes, let’s get to finer detail: clocks!

The first clocks you’ll see in the game show up in the Winters’ home, both putting the time of day at 7:34 PM. Time for dinner, and to put the baby to bed.

There are no clocks available when Ethan wakes up in the snow in the dark, but the sun rises while he’s in the first hut you encounter just outside the village. The Internet would lead me to believe that sunrise in Romania in February is around 7:15 AM, so nearly 12 hours have gone by since our opening scene. So either that was a very long drive, or Ethan spent a lot of hours wandering in the woods in the dark, or he was "unconscious" for a long while after the truck rolled over (but then, I already got to share a few of my own theories about that one in that fic I mentioned above, so I get to feel validated there. *g*)

Note that Miranda also holds her ceremony to divide Rose into four crystalline pieces at dawn. The lycan attack on the village seems to have started before dawn even breaks (and I can only assume it's over by the time Eugen staggers home, presumably in too much of a funk to even notice, because there's no mention of it in his diary. But shhh, don't think too hard about that one).

As Ethan arrives on the outskirts of the village and sees his first view of the castle, an attentive gamer will hear a clock strike 8 times, so it's 8AM. Given the sun's just peaking over the mountains, that would about fit too.

There are no clocks that I’ve found in the village proper, probably so the devs don’t have to worry about updating them as the day progresses (though the light and position of the sun certainly changes through the day). But once you make it into the castle, there are clocks everywhere.

Most are either the large grandfather model…

…or the small, mantelpiece model.

There are also a couple of really small ones of a third model, which you can find in castle saferooms.

And they all tell roughly the same time, which is… er, 10:00? 10:05? 10:30?

Seriously, look at these things: the minute hands are pointing to the 5 (or 12 on the mantlepiece model, suggesting someone hasn’t synchronised their clocks perfectly), but the hour hands are consistently stuck midway between 10 and 11, which suggests it should be 10:30. But maybe this is just the devs' way of hedging their bets about the fact time passes while Ethan's in the castle. Or maybe this is just what happens when you eat the guy who comes in to do clock repairs before he’s even finished.

Still, let’s take this basically at face value: Ethan enters the castle around 10AM, and is out again by around noon (as per the diary).

Our next time-of-day indicator isn’t a clock, but the diary left by Chris’ team on the computer that shows up in the church.

So, sounds like the team legitimately arrived while Ethan was in the castle, around 11:35 AM. Presumably, Ethan isn’t supposed to be able to find the computer until after 1:10 PM (time of the latest entry). And while I'm here, I just have to point to that "Found evidence of EW" line ‒ found what evidence? A bunch of broken crates and dead lycans? A wallet dropped while frantically reloading his gun? Two severed fingers? We'll never know.

Also, for those keeping track: it is 100% canon that in the time Ethan needs to take out both Donna and Moreau, clear out the stronghold, battle his way through the factory, and defeat Sturm, all Chris has managed to do is futz around the factory for a bit, mess around with an old tank, and not-quite-finish planting explosives. Pff, loser. (Okay, I tell a lie ‒ he also shows up in the reservoir, so maybe he just procrastinated and hung out with his friends for a few hours instead of actually getting to the one job he promised everyone he was actually going to do. C'mon, we've all done it.)

Moving on, there are more clocks waiting for us in Donna’s domain, but here’s where things get… weird.

To begin with, the first clock you can find (ticking loudly by the stairs) thinks it’s 6 o’clock. Whether this is AM or PM, neither makes any sense here. But the fact it’s ticking suggests it’s working, and the time doesn’t change after Donna is dead and her hallucination-flowers are all wilted, so… I don’t know, maybe Donna and Angie just don’t live in the same mental time zone as the rest of us. Or maybe the devs just didn’t bother changing clock.asset from its default setting.

Downstairs, in the basement, you can find another clock in the workroom, and it’s not 6:00 down here, but 9:21. Again, the time doesn’t change as events progress.

More interesting is a smaller clock you might spot on a table in the hall on your way down, next to a lantern and a bowl of rotten fruit, which shows yet another different time.

What makes this little elaborate-portico-model clock interesting, though, is that it’s an asset from RE7 – cap below comes from the Baker house.

And like every clock in RE7, the one in Donna's house shows 10:15. The attentive player may even remember this, since in RE7 that time was part of a puzzle.

It’s not the only call-back you’ll find to RE7 down here – the ringing phone is other one I caught, very reminiscent of Zoe’s calls from RE7. The phone's actually not a reused asset, though – the RE8 version has an old-fashioned rotary dial, where the RE7 phones had buttons, making them substantially more modern.

I was thinking there were more RE7 assets down in this section – the torn floral wallpaper in a run-down corridor definitely has RE7-vibes, and the horror potential of sending Ethan back through a literal scene from his nightmares goes without saying. But I couldn’t find anything specific that was reused. Even the fuse-box puzzles use completely different assets.

Which all begs the question, are we supposed to notice that clock as an intentional callback on Ethan’s Hallucinatory Journey? Or is it just a casually reused asset without greater meaning?

In all honesty, I would not have noticed the portico-clock came from RE7 if I hadn’t seen it pointed out in a Reddit thread somewhere – and if we are supposed to notice it, it’s not the model I’d have chosen. The large grandfather clocks from RE7 are far more memorable (and, impressively, distinct from both the large-grandfather-clock models found in RE8). The portico clock is used in a couple of different places, but isn't super-memorable, and is easily missed.

You can find it there in the Daughter’s DLC as well (prequel set before the events of the game), though there it and all other clocks have been dutifully adjusted to show a different time (7:22PM).

What's much stranger is that there are actually two of these clocks in Ethan’s home back at the start of the game. And they read 10:15 there too, even though the main wall clocks read 7:34.

Heck, I even found this damn thing down in the Umbrella facility in the remake of RE2, still reading 10:15.

So… yeah, I’m gonna have to go with ‘clumsily reused asset’ for all appearances of this clock in RE8. And having now spent way too long down the mad rabbit-hole that is the clocks of House Beneviento, I'm forced to conclude: nothing means anything, everything is just here to fuck with me, and for all I know Ethan stumbles out of this place before he ever went in, IDEK.

It doesn't help that post-House Beneviento, I found no clocks anywhere, nor any more documents citing time-of-day. None in Moreau’s Reservoir, none in Heisenberg’s Factory (which doesn’t mean there aren’t any I didn’t catch, but I was definitely looking for them).

The sun’s pretty clearly setting by the time Ethan reaches the factory, and it’s set by the time you fight Heisenberg. What time of night it is while Chris is doing his mad run through the village is anyone’s guess, but presumably a bunch of hours go by somewhere, since the whole night has passed before our showdown. But then, as already established, Chris is a guy who can canonically burn most of his afternoon lost in one factory (granted, the place is one hell of a maze), so maybe he does the same down in the village.

The important thing is that the Duke’s here to get Ethan to his appointment with Miranda at dawn ‒ cue ending sequence and credits.

So, for those keeping track, here's the 'complete' hour-by-hour timeline for Resident Evil Village, as close as we can track it.

February 8 7:34 PM: Opening scene. Chris burst into the Winters' home, kills "Mia" and kidnaps Ethan and Rose.

February 9 Pre-dawn: Ethan wakes up next to the crashed truck. Lycan attack on the village begins. Dawn (around 7:15 AM): Miranda holds her ceremony to crystalise Rose and divide her into four pieces

8:00 AM: Ethan reaches the outskirts of the village, explores, encounters the the lycans and the old hag, etc Morning: Ethan reaches Luiza’s house, is put on trial by Miranda, escapes and reaches the castle 10:00 AM (approx): Ethan reaches the castle 11:35 AM: Chris' team arrives on site 12:10 PM: Chris' team infiltrates the village Noon (approx): Ethan defeats Dimitrescu and escapes the castle, and the Duke sends him on his quest 01:10 PM: Chris' team establish their base in the church and split up to investigate separately Afternoon: Ethan defeats Donna and Moreau, and battles through the stronghold Evening: Ethan sets off for Heisenberg’s factory, meets Chris, battles Heisenberg, etc Night: Chris fights his way through the village and discovers Mia in Miranda's lab

February 10 Pre-dawn: Ethan wakes up in the Duke's wagon Dawn (around 7:15 AM): Final battle with Miranda

So... yeah. Up to early afternoon on the 9th, the timeline here is surprisingly detailed. And considering what a chaotic fairy-tale mind-fuck of a game this thing is, that's actually pretty impressive. But beyond Donna's House of Extreme Mindfuckery, Ethan has lost all track of what's going on in his life, and I think we can all forgive him for that.

And now I will never be able to walk past a clock in an RE game without getting the urge to take a screenshot again.

#Resident Evil Village #Resident Evil #Resident Evil timeline #meta #Ethan Winters

[softguarnere]

Hello! What would the boys do to help their S/O with insomnia?

Hello Anon! As someone who basically has Not Slept™️ for about a year now, this one really made me think. Thank you for the request, and I hope that you are able to get some rest 💕

Dick Winters: He is a busy man, but he is never too busy for you. He often wakes up in the middle of the night and can't go back to sleep because his mind is going a mile a minute as he thinks about all the things that he needs to do. So when he begins realizing that you're also awake, he worries that it's because of him. When you assure him that it's not, he would jump into action, trying to find ways to fix the sleeping habits of you both. He does a lot of research and implements a very structured approach. He's determined to help you, and if it also helps him, then in his mind, that's just an added bonus.

Lewis Nixon: This man sleeps like a log. Gotta admire his ability to sleep pretty much anywhere, basically at will. He doesn't really understand how someone could not sleep, not be able to stay asleep, or not feel rested after waking up. BUT, he is nothing if not devoted to you, and he would do anything to understand and try to help you. He would make sure that the bedroom is a calm environment, and he would hold you and talk quietly to you about anything and everything until you fall asleep. Only when he's sure that you're resting would he allow himself to drift off.

Ron Speirs: He strikes me as kind of a night owl himself. He would be very understanding of your struggle. That being said, he knows the importance of a good night's sleep - and maybe seeing you struggle would motivate him to work on his own sleep patterns, because he wouldn't want to come across as a hypocrite. Sleepless nights with Ron would be so calming. Just sharing a space in the dark and whispering while the rest of the world slumbers is so peaceful. If you have to struggle with this, it's a comfort to know that you're not alone in it.

Carwood Lipton: The way that this man would go out of his way to help you! We're talking creating a whole nighttime routine - he's turning off screens and making the bed comfy and putting the fan on just the right setting. He would endeavor to make mornings easier too, just in case you didn't sleep well during the night. No matter what, feeling and seeing how much he cares is the last thing you notice before going to bed and the first thing you notice upon waking up.

Babe Heffron: Okay, listen. His sleep schedule isn't the greatest. Babe just sort of passes out whenever he's tired and wakes up whenever he feels refreshed and is good to go. He would definitely try to do better if he thought that it would help you, though. His friends would come to the rescue, giving him advice and encouragement. And he's willing to try anything and everything to help you. Trial and error is a process, and you're on the journey together.

Eugene Roe: Definitely uses his background in medicine to find the right approach. You don't have to stress yourself about finding or creating a schedule, because he's got it all under control. Your new favorite part of the night becomes the time when you sit together after dinner, drinking tea and resting your head on his shoulder while you watch the world grow dark from the window. Even if he can't fix it, spending time with him is a comfort in itself.

Bill Guarnere: He comes from a big family. He knows a thing or two about helping someone get to sleep and stay asleep from watching his mom work with him and his siblings. He has a habit of waking up several times in the night anyway, but now whenever it happens, he stays still and listens to make sure that you're still asleep. If he feels you starting to wake up, he rubs circles on your back until you drift off again. Only then will he try to go back to sleep himself.

Joe Toye: This man is like a weighted blanket - warm and strong. He knows that he likes someone's arms around him, so he figures that holding you and just trying to be a calming presence might do the trick. Always makes sure to check in with you in the mornings to see how you've rested, and is waiting with a glass of water and some warm breakfast to help you meet the day.

George Luz: He hates seeing you so tired and stressed out because of it! And he especially hates feeling helpless over the fact that he has no clue how to help. But he's up for the challenge; there's no way that he's letting you go through this alone. If you end up staying awake all night, he's right there by your side. If you want to go to bed early, he's already putting fresh blankets on the bed. You're in this together.

Don Malarkey: He has trouble falling asleep, but once he's out, he's out. So when he realizes that you're not falling asleep at the same time that he is, he tries to teach you his ways. When that doesn't work, he tries everything that he can think of to help you. As an early riser, he can at least make sure that he stays in bed and holds you, making sure that your last few hours of sleep are peaceful and soothing.

Shifty Powers: There are nights that he wakes up in the middle of. Not wanting to bother you, he usually stares at the roof and just thinks. When he realizes that you're going through the same thing, you both feel a little less alone. Laying on your backs, staring at the ceiling, you would hold hands and just talk quietly. Sometimes you both manage to drift off again, and sometimes you don't. On sleepless nights, you greet the day early, both sitting on the front porch wrapped in blankets to watch the sunrise, still hand in hand.

Joe Liebgott: Before you got together, he would just get in his car and drive on sleepless nights to calm himself down. Now, though, he would be willing to stay in the bed because he wants to make sure that you're rested. Definitely the type to wrap you up in his arms and whisper to you soothingly until you fall asleep. The last thing that you hear is always his voice telling you that everything is okay and that he'll be right there beside you come morning.

David Webster: Another night owl. He doesn't mind staying up late to write, or getting up early to write, or writing whenever he wakes up and can't go back to sleep. His own sleep is so all over the place that he has no clue how to begin helping you. But he'll do his best. He would create a calming night routine where you go to bed together, and he holds you and reads to you until you fall asleep. Now whenever he wakes up, he just watches how peacefully you're sleeping and stays by your side until morning.

Skinny Sisk: Never loses hope for a second. He would encourage you to pursue methods that might help you sleep better, and he would step in if you asked for his help. Even if he's not sure what to do - or even if there's anything he can do - he would offer his support and let you talk it out. Sometimes the most he can offer is a forehead kiss goodnight and again as a good morning, but you know that he's got your wellbeing on his mind.

Skip Muck: This man would be so on top of things! He is out to reduce your stress level in any way that he can. He's making dinner and insisting on a walk around the neighborhood before coming back in for a cup of warm tea and then whisking you off to bed. He likes to talk as the two of you fall asleep, but only about light-hearted subjects. If you wake up and can't go back to sleep, he'll make up little stories to tell you until you drift off again.

Bull Randleman: He would be so understanding. He really wants you to get the good night's sleep you deserve. He would be willing to try anything and everything to help you. His favorite nights are the ones where you fall asleep on his shoulder while sitting on the couch, and then he carries you to bed. It brings a smile to his face to see how at peace you look when you're getting the rest that you need.

Floyd Talbert: Probably cracks a joke or two about how he "knows something that would probably help you sleep better ;)" But in all seriousness, the gravity of the situation would hit him and he would try his best to help you get some rest. He's actually a great listener, so if you just want to talk about how frustrating this all is, or talk until you fall asleep, he's totally up for it. He would go out of his way to wake up before you, make breakfast, and do the morning chores so that you could rest more and not have to stress upon waking up.

Thank you for the request anon! I hope you like these, and I hope that you get to rest better soon 💕🕊️

#the fact that I wrote these while unable to sleep 😶 #call out for myself and my lack of rest hahaha #yes I WILL continue to use sun imagery for Shifty in everything I write - I am so sorry this is just how it is #band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers head canon #band of brothers headcanon #dick winters x reader #dick winters #lewis nixon #lewis nixon x reader #ron speirs x reader #ron speirs #carwood lipton x reader #carwood lipton #babe heffron x reader #babe heffron #eugene roe x reader #eugene roe #bill guarnere x reader #bill guarnere #don malarkey #don malarkey x reader #george luz x reader #george luz #joe toye x reader #joe toye #shifty powers x reader #shifty powers

[ofmermaidstories]

Let me preface this by saying I did check your FAQ but I didn't see this there yet I still find it hard to believe no one has asked you this at least a thousand times so if they did and I just missed it I'm sorry and you can delete this ask but—

You write such beautiful, detailed fics with lots of foreshadowing that often starts from the very beginning of the story. I think you made an author note once about only posting the first chapter of a fic after you've written the whole thing (or maybe that was Andie...?). If so, is the time between updates just you going through and rereading / editing like 100k words?

Basically, I want to ask: what is your fic planning process like? From the moment you get a first idea to posting the last chapter, what does I look like? I think you're a really, really amazing (one of the absolute best if not THE best) author but I cannot fathom how one human being can write such mammoths of fanfiction and stay motivated enough to finish them.

Also you're already planning Halloween stuff ?? You plan things literally half a year in advance?? Are you even human? We don't deserve you. 😭

You called yourself lazy in the webcomic post but I think you must work unbelievably hard to make such high quality stuff and without even getting compensation for it. You're amazing and I'm very thankful to exist in the right timeline and fandom to read your work. :,)

(oh my god this became such a ramble I'm sorry)

Oh Ari. 🥺 Hello.

I update as I write! So that was probably Andie, lmao, who’s definitely the better example to follow when it comes to plotting/completing a fic. 🥺 She’s amazing and if I could fashion myself after any other writer in our niche, it would be Andie hands down!

But okay, let’s get into it. 📝

A little disclaimer, before we start; I did not go to school for any of this lmfao. The most relevant education I have behind me is a extra-circular literature class I had during my last two years of high-school. The only reason the following works for me is because I’ve cobbled it together from years of trial and error. You can read advice and watch youtube videos about the writing habits of famous authors, but you have to tailor everything you hear to suit you and the way you work. The best advice in the world from the highest paid author in the world won’t work if you’re not wired in the same way! You have to take everything about yourself and what you like and what you want into account!

Part I—first we take Manhattan

start ur fic lol

First thing’s first; I’m a plotter. I don’t pants. If I pants, I lose interest—I need to have the final vision in front of me, even if it’s just a bullet point. I have to know what I’m working towards. That is crucial to literally everything I do. Every fic you see on AO3, every WIP I’ve mentioned working on or wanting to work on—I have always known two things about them, immediately: the hook that gets us in there, and how they end.

So for fics in particular, the start might look something like—I get an idea (I want Reader and Bakugou to kiss). And then I sit there and I brainstorm to myself (What’s stopping them from kissing? Why does Reader want to kiss someone so rude when there’s so many other nice boys out there? Is Reader particularly kissable?). And then, if I’m lucky, I think of an ending (Reader and Bakugou finally kiss, but he’s the one that initiates it, because he’s always wanted to, because he likes that Reader always wears a yellow coat to work—it’s ugly and it sticks out among the black and tan ones of the crowd but he comes to associate it—and thus Reader—with routine and his mornings going well).

This is often the most fragile time of an idea. That hook (Reader and Bakugou kiss) might fall apart with a bit more prodding (why would they kiss? Reader’s a stranger to him; most of us don’t go around kissing random strangers just because we like their coats). Or maybe the hook sticks (they spend almost years in orbit around each other, a constant near-miss) but the ending doesn’t work (I don’t know how to move Bakugou to a position where he can kiss Reader, where he has the opportunity to). For every idea you see in action, or listed, there’s like three more that died during this stage and are now being cannibalised for spare parts.

Part II—running up that hill (a deal with fic)

work work work

If our idea survives, we then move to the “throw everything at the wall and see what sticks” stage; which manifests itself in this case as a doc, where I’ll just write any and all ideas I have for this little world so far.

For fanfics, it’ll generally look like—

TITLE

SUMMARY: Bakugou and Reader kiss.

(in which Bakugou first notices you because of your ugly yellow coat)

📝 Reader is allergic to diary products; for ages Bakugou thinks of her as That Cheesy Extra, because of the colour of her coat. She laughs when she eventually learns about this. (“I can’t even eat cheese,” you complain)

📝 Reader stops walking past the coffee shop Bakugou gets his coffee at, one day; moves??? Leaves the city to help a friend out for a few months. Despite himself it throws Bakugou off-kilter, and when he sees someone (not Reader) in a yellow coat during a villian attack, he momentarily loses focus—gets injured???? The news of his injury makes the news, Reader sees it in Bumblah nowhere.

📝 Her coat is donated accidentally by a roommate, in a mix up, for a charity she’s volunteering at; when Reader returns to the city, she has to make do with a new one, a more neutral colour. Bakugou recognises her anyway and that’s when he realises it was never about the coat (!!!!)

Like, this is actually a pretty good approximation of what all my current fics have looked like, at that stage, before I tidied them up and refined them into proper outlines. Because that’s what will happen next, once we have a rough idea of what we want! Things get moved, or removed—tightened. A rough plot outline takes shape! If I get any ideas for a sequel or a spin off that I might want to do, I’ll note them here (Reader’s roommate, Roomie, who’s working at a charity—eventually meets Shinsou, who’s working on a case. She thinks he’s homeless; he doesn’t realise. They carry on like this for a while.)

Once I have a rough outline (rough meaning in bulletpoints), I’ll start on my more in-depth outlines—I do these chapter by chapter! I say this a lot, but they’re basically a really rough version of said chapter. So it might look like:

Reader’s walking to work; it’s cold enough that’s she’s wearing her coat. There’s a new coffee-shop opened on the corner—it’s full, popular, you think it might be because it’s at a crossroads between two different Pro Hero agencies. Reader glances at the window, interested, but then a friend calls out and you hurry along. Bakugou, inside the coffee-shop waiting for Half and Half to get his order, is affronted; your coat is ugly as shit, and he complains loudly about it to Shouto, who mentions something about Baku. having no room to complain about ugly colour choices.

The swap between Reader/You happens a lot because I’m not using my brain properly, at this stage—I’m just shovelling the sand I need into the sandbox. Once I finish my shovelling, I go back and I rewrite it—but better, LMAO. I flesh things out, I throw things away as needed, I add things in. It’s basically really, really intensive handholding and I would not recommend it for anyone who’s already daunted by the idea of plotting; I do it because if I don’t have a chaperone there (aka my outline) then I’m prone to getting distracted. I am basically the fanfic equivalent of the undiagnosed ADHD kid at the back of the class that only gets work done when they’re sat right in front of the teacher (and even then, there’s like a 50% chance it’s not actually work that’s happening but doodles of that weird pointy S thing over and over again).

Once it’s done, though, we have a completed chapter! I then post it and wait like a little crab under some rocks for people to be tricked into being nice to me, and then I dig back in and think nice thoughts about repeating this process to get chapter two. Eventually I will—and viola! Another chapter! We repeat that over and over until we get to the end of our original outline and we have a finished story. 😌📖

Part III—you’re on your own kid

motivation

No one ever likes this part, or what I’m about to say, because at best it sounds like saccharine fodder and at worse it’s out of touch with most people’s experiences in fandom, but—the only way to stay motivated when doing a long-haul fic is that you have to do it for yourself.

People are so kind to me, about the fics I’ve done; it’s part luck and part what I choose to write and part how I write it. And I mean—I share them because I want a little bit of attention, lmao, that’s natural because we’re humans, we all want attention. But here’s the thing, here’s the secret—I take these fics 110% deadly seriously. LOL. That sounds like a joke, but I do! I do that because it’s how I’m built and how I keep myself interested in them—because taking them seriously means I’m more invested in realising the ending I’ve imagined for them since day one.

If other people stopped being so nice about what I was writing, I would be sad—anyone would. 🥺 We all want to be told that we’ve done a good job. But I’ve had the ending for the Deku fic, for example, in my head since it’s predecessor was on-going. That is literal years of knowing how I want Izuku and Scribble’s story to end. If everyone disappeared tonight I would sulk, hardcore, and then I would finish that last chapter anyway. I would finish it because I’ve spent so much time and energy working on that story that not finishing it is a disservice to the world I built around those characters and most importantly to myself. I probably wouldn’t stress as much about it, LOL, if the audience shrunk back down to just me, but I’d still do it. 🥺

I write—and try to finish—these fics because I deserve to see them finished. I want the completed tick, on ao3. I want to look at it and know that I can do it—that I can start something as simple as Bakugou hating on some rando’s yellow coat, and bring it to the finish-line where they finally come together, and see each other, without the yellow coat or through a coffee-shop window.

And this is what I mean by like, tailoring things to suit you—because I know others might be perfectly content to imagine the ending for themselves, without writing it. Or maybe they don’t want to treat fic seriously, because it’s fun escapism. Maybe disappointment that it’s not received like they thought it would be sours the whole experience of fandom for someone—there’s no right or wrong to this. I know I can write for an audience of just me because I’ve done it before. The satisfaction has always come back to the same thing—knowing I finished it, and wrapped that world up as best as I could. You have to pick and choose your poison—and then you have to run with it.

I hope that answers at least some of your questions, Ari. 🥺 Thank-you for such a thoughtful ask; for being so sweet. 🥺 You’re amazing, and I’m the thankful one—I’m glad we’re here, together. 🌷🌾✨📖

#ofmermaidstories-asks #ari do i have a tag for you? 🧐 hmMMMm #anyways i hope you have a good week and that this was at least a tiny bit helpful lmao #i should link it…. ugh i should overdo my whole masterpost tbh 😩 this is where the lazy comes in bc id rather stare at my wall tbh LMAO #first we take manhattan—then we take berlin 🎵 #writing stuff

[maggie32432]

Firelight (Rafael Barba Imagine)

Third POV

"What the hell were you thinking?" Rafael says, marching alongside you after a long long day trying to catch a predator and possibly putting yourself in harms way to get the creep to incriminate himself. "I was thinking that I'm a detective and can easily and willingly use myself as bait when the situation arises," You say defensively, "Olivia said it was fine," You reassure and he sighs to himself,

"When you do things like this it makes it harder for me to do my job!" He exclaims as you both approach his apartment front door, "So why did you invite me over to your place then?" You ask, dusting the snow off of your coat, as he unlocks the door to his large home.

"Because now after you did this I need to prepare you for what they could ask you on the stand tomorrow!" He exclaims "I've been on the stand before, Barba,"

He mumbles something in Spanish to himself before allowing both of you inside the apartment. He immediately goes to the bar cart to pour a drink and you slide your coat off your shoulders, happy to be out of the New York City snowstorm.

"Besides, with this storm I guarantee the trial date is going to have to be pushed back. No way these roads will be clear by morning," "Great. So another day the man who tried to rape you will spend another day not facing punishment,"

"Is that what this is about? You're mad that he tried to go after me," "He didn't 'go after you', Y/N, he had you pinned against the wall and said what he wanted to do to you. I had to hear all of that," "You're not mad because I made the case harder for you. You're mad because I was in danger," You say, voice softer now as Rafael bites his cheek, looking out the window.

"Rafa," You say softly, sitting on the couch next to him. "Olivia said something to me today. It's had me thinking a lot," "Well tell me. You know you can tell me anything," You say, feeling his warmth now that you're sitting so close.

"It was nothing. I assume you're right about the case, but you should still stay here," "Hm?" You ask, trying to not focus too much on the fact that he completely changed the subject. "The snow storm is forecasted to make the roads dangerous. Stay here with me," He says and you feel your heart melt.

The light in the apartment is dim. The only light flickers from the gas fireplace that Rafael clicked on when you both came in. He swirls his drink in his hand as you sit inches away from him, both listening to the crackling of the fire.

The lights of NYC light up the windows as snow falls at a fast speed. "You asked me here because you wanted to be with me and know I'm safe," You whisper and he bites his lip, and your heart begins to race.

"Rafa," You say, inching closer to him and he shifts in his seat, "Olivia said that-well she asked if this case is going to be too personal for me because it involves you," "Wait what?" You ask, stomach now doing flips, "She thought that I was too close to this case because it involves you,"

Your breath catches in your throat as you watch Rafael, your best friend in this whole world, put his drink down on the coffee table. This is not nearly the first time you've been here to talk about cases or just spend time with each other, but it's always been just that...nothing more than just friends.

"That makes sense. She knows we're good friends," "No. That's not it and you know it," He says, now looking you in the eyes as you fiddle with your fingers. "me has embrujado" he whispers to himself before glancing back up at you. "She was right, Y/N. I don't know how to win this case without wanting to rip this guy apart with my bare hands," Rafael says, and without another word, you put both hands on the sides of his face and kiss him gently.

He smiles into the kiss before placing a hand on the side of your head, "How long have you felt this way?" "Since the moment I met you," He says before kissing you again, laying you back down against the soft couch, letting the firelight illuminate each other's features.

The kiss deepens and you begin to undo his tie, "You sure?" "Rafa...please," You whisper and he smiles before he kisses your neck...leading to a night that you'd never ever forget.

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