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ykiwrite · 1 year

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behind the scenes

description: georgie was feeling way too comfortable with your girlfriend and emergency was needed

warnings: fluff, angst, suggestive

word count: 1.3k

"And just as we finished shooting that scene, i saw Jenna standing over there looking so terrified 'cause-" said Georgie unable to contain his laugh from escaping.

He was putting all of his weight on one particular person he sat next to.

Jenna.

The apparent height difference, the difference in personalities, both undeniably eye catching people made them look like fairytale couple.

That refers to an untrained eye who knows nothing about who's dating who really.

You watched them while nested in the depths of the couch shared with as well laughing Emma. A fluffy blanket over the two of you did not help with the slumber you were falling into. The feeling of Emma shaking from laughter kept you awake and on standby. Both thankful for it and silently despising it.

Actually, forget it. You couldn't fall asleep even if you wanted to. Georgie and his storytelling was on volume 100, it was too hot in the room, too loud and Jenna was too far away.

Never really the jealous type but today something was in the air. Except you didn't know what exactly.

Perhaps it's because this week's schedule was terrible. Perhaps, you just missed her. Perhaps today's day at work went not so smoothly and you hoped a fraction of comfort for the end of the day could be found on the set with Jenna.

Jenna, who without a second thought saw through all of your complaints over texts demanded you drop by for a few hours.

Turns out everyone was evidently having a blast, you could not relate to that. Maybe it's the part of the acting, the actors high or such. You weren't sure if that was Jenna's attempt of making you feel better. It probably was not, she'd go out of her way for it. It's just how the pieces fell and you ended up on the filming set. If she had the time and space she would do it differently.

Whatever the reason, you picked to withdraw in silence. With not enough energy to speak, drained and drowsy it seemed like the best answer.

Fairly annoyed by the sight of Georgie going out of comfortable bounds with his hand around her shoulder surely reflected on your expression.

"Pssstt..." secretly called out Jenna with no intentions of stopping Georgie's rambling.

Simply looking at her and nodding gave her a green light to continue. In series of polite movements, she removed his hand and leaned over the table. Hoping you will copy her but you didn't made her puzzled. She kept staring, squinting her eyes, trying to figure you out. After a few seconds with no avail that turned into a pleading pout;

"Please?"

With a sigh, you raised yourself with help of hands. Not bothering to fix stoic face of yours, finally eye to eye with her.

"Hey," she whispered with a smile that almost broke you out of character.

"Jenna, i'm not up for jokes."

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. You good?" she asked genuinely, swiping a strand of messy hair out of your place.

"Oh wow, you actually noticed? I thought Georgie was more interesting." It's a bitter line and tone Jenna is not used to. Especially coming from you.

She looked at you with invisible question marks above her and continued, "Of course i did but i admit he is a bit too talkative today." She gave him one last glance before her eyes scanned you up and down. She was suspicious of something. One thing in particular she was positive of.

"Hold on, you're not..." she wasn't sure whether to push it or let it slide.

"What?"

"You jealous?" She took a dare and let it be heard.

Were you offended? Not really, more like just shocked and caught red handed. Even from her first try. Not moving an inch, trying to keep what's left of your cool, you told her "No? I'm just wondering is he always like that? No wonder everyone ships you two."

A grin on her face portraying the complete opposite of how you're feeling right now started to bother you. It usually meant she read right through and there was no defense left to use.

Promptly leaving her chair only to kneel next to your figure on the couch. Soft hand rested on your leg supporting her. In not the best position to be, compromising even.

"You know so well i could care less about him," tilting her head, "romantically."

"Romantically?" you repeated to chase what's that supposed to mean.

"He's my friend and we're pretty much forced to look at each other everyday on the set. It's not like i can escape him." A rested hand on your leg was sort of a comfort. Comfort that would last if it weren't for her fingers repeating circles around.

Slightly distracted knowing she would get worse if you let her continue.

With no goal nor energy for fighting about her valid answer, you simply nodded. But would you be her girlfriend if you didn't know that's not a sufficient answer? You are not off the hook.

Mainly because she cares and wanted to make up for it. And because there's a rule no one should go to bed mad.

A grand idea was being forged in Jenna's head while you talked about today's events. Not that she didn't listen, she was just calculating the risks and advantages of the idea while listening.

"Hey Georgie?" Jenna asked loudly, turning to him.

"Yeah?"

"Remind me, how long is our break?"

"Uhh," pondered Georgie while checking time on his phone, "we still got over 20 minutes free. Why?"

"Nothing, just wondering." All of her attention back to you again.

Quickly, without looking shady, she signaled her head over to point out the direction you two were supposed to go. Like it's your secret language, though you had no idea what's she on about.

"Jenna, i don't-"

Being pulled by the hands never allowed you to finish the sentence. Standing on your feet, you offered her unfazed stare.

"We got 20 minutes to spare. That's plenty." She said with confidence, her legs ready to sprint out of the room. The less time wasted the better.

"For what? I know how your set looks already, i had a tour."

It was possibly the most amusing disappointed state you ever saw Jenna in. In disbelief but loving you no less, her hand linked with yours in rush.

"No, i know. It was wild, that's why i told Hunter-", Georgie got startled by his coworker's hurried steps, "Where are you guys going?"

If he let one more second pass Jenna wouldn't have to lose time. "Just around the building."

"You already showed her the entire place three times already." Now Emma sided with Georgie.

As if betrayed by Emma's question, knowing damn well she was the least oblivious one. "So? I forgot to show her something."

Catching your breath, Jenna let go of you while struggling to open the door. Observing the "Dressing room" sign, you smiled to yourself.

Grabbing you by the shirt while pushing the door open with her back was a view, to say at least. It was enough of an adrenaline rush itself.

"Again? Dressing room?" You chuckled, backing your steps away from her who paced towards you.

Stranded in the corner with a body against the wall and no space to left to move.

"Again. It's not like we have any options, really."

"If i recall, you have 20 minutes ticking. I think it's not long enough for you to do the job."

So she took it, and you as a challenge.

Sitting in front of the makeup mirror, Emma let out a gasp.

Making Jenna's head look up from her phone in a similar panic, she asked "What?"

"Jenna, our makeup artist will kill you. Of course you didn't take her on the fourth tour around the set. Georgie will have nightmares."

Looking at herself in the mirror, she noticed what Emma did. Her neck to be precise.

"Let him."

notes: at this point idk what i'm writing except my daily delusions that will never happen

*enjoy though! 🖤

*update: removed percy from the fic 20/1

#jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega imagines

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sorencd · 9 months

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APPLE CIDER

pairing: charlie dalton x f!reader

summary: he’s brash, annoying, distracts you from your studies, and plays the saxophone too loudly. you don’t like him at all. right?

word count: 0.6k

a/n: really tempted to make an unofficial part 2 to this one hdhasfuf

the room was frigid as the cold wind entered your room through the window, sending a chill down your body. you were staring up at the ceiling, thinking about the past events of this week. you got up from where you were on your bed to close the windowpane, deciding that you couldn't bear the chilly temperatures anymore, but sat down on the edge, you spotted your jumper that was hanging on the door.

'hi (y/n).' a voice from above you spoke, it was charlie. he had that cheeky smile again.

'what do you want, dalton?' you replied, annoyance evident in your tone. clearly stating that you didn't want him there and bothering you. you were studying outside of the school you attended, the neighbouring academy to welton, emma porter academy. you shouldn't have expected peace and quiet when you chose a bench outside of school as your place to study.

'you're really good at organising.' he said as he pointed at your notes.

you looked up at him with a bizarre expression, where did that compliment come from? to hide your confusion, you instead feigned irritation. 'seriously, what do you want charlie? i'm busy right now.'

'you looked lonely and i didn't see your friend amelia around here anywhere. so i figured i'd give a poor soul like you company.'

despite your best efforts to try and make him leave you alone, he was persistent. no matter how many times you told him to go away, he'd quickly change the topic and say something about you.

'you know what? i'll be the one to leave. please don't follow me.' you pleaded as you started walking away.

he didn't say anything the first few minutes you got up to leave, you were tempted to look back to see if he had any sort of reaction, but before you could, he beat you to it and spoke up.

'i like your jumper!'

you quickly shook your head as you cleared your thoughts of charlie. lately, he's been plaguing your mind and you have no idea why. it's giving you a hard time to focus and you're afraid your grades and studies would be affected if this continues.

you resumed what you were planning on doing and closed the window shut. you caught a glimpse of yourself in the reflection, your hair softly glowing from the light the moon illuminated.

'could you, i don't know, smoke somewhere else?’ you complained as you coughed while waving your hand in the air to try and get some smoke out of your face. charlie really went out of his way to sit down next to you on your favourite spot, the bench, to light a cigarette.

‘i think i’m fine where i am.’ he snickered and raised his cigarette up towards your head and though you tried moving away, charlie still managed to put cigar shavings on top of your head. to your dismay.

you stood up from the bench and quickly cleaned your head, you hoped the smell wouldn't rub off on you to save you the trouble of explaining to your parents why you smell like cigarettes.

'would you quit that?' you angrily grumbled as you scowled at him. he only laughed again in return.

'sorry sorry, wouldn't want to ruin your pretty hair.'

and there it was again. that feeling in the pit of your belly that bubbled up every time he'd compliment you. he's just messing around with you, isn't he? after all, you both hate each other.

for the second time tonight, you snapped yourself out of your daydreaming and made your way back to bed where you plopped down face first and let out an exasperated sigh.

charlie has been fogging your mind all week and it was starting to get annoying. that annoying sly grin of his, his annoying handsome face, annoying compliments, annoying soft hair, annoying charlie. you disliked him. hated, even. you hated him a lot. you don't even like him that much.

but maybe it's time to admit that you do.

#dead poets society x reader #dead poets society #charlie dalton #charlie dalton x reader

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positivelybeastly · 4 months

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Assuming nobody in the marvel universe knows the extent of Hank's actions outside x-force and the quiet council, what do you think will happen if word got of what he did?

This is kind of a funny one, really.

So, as things stand, and to clarify your point, the only people who realistically know the extent of X-Force Beast's actions are the Quiet Council (Cypher, Xavier, Magneto, Apocalypse, Sebastian Shaw, Storm, Nightcrawler, Jean Grey, Emma Frost, Mystique, Kate Pryde, Exodus and Mr. Sinister, with later additions being Hope Summers, Colossus, Destiny, and Selene) and those on X-Force (Wolverine, Omega Red, Laura Wolverine, Sage, Domino, Deadpool, Kid Omega).

We also have to imagine that they probably told other people, i.e. Jean probably told Cyclops, but that's basically up to the writers deciding if they want to ever make this whole mess part of a joined up story rather than one long Percyverse tale.

So, what happens if words gets out? Uhh, honestly, it's up to the writer, but logically speaking, not a lot.

Beast can basically just bounce and leave the X-Men behind forever, and no-one's really gonna say anything, mostly because to incriminate him is to incriminate themselves. Rule one of black ops is that you don't leave evidence, so even if they know, they have to either be a witness - and admit that they let it happen - or present evidence which we have no real reason to believe exists. I imagine the space prison probably got vaporised because Krakoa did not want that to ever get out. Terra Verde had nothing linking him to it. I imagine telepathic knowledge isn't admissible in court.

Like, imagine if Jean wants to try and get Hank prosecuted. How does she know? Well, when she found out he'd killed a small country, she held him up in the air and said mean things to him for a bit, then walked away from the situation in a cloud of moral superiority. She later then proceeded to hold civil conversations with him, touch his arm in a quasi-affectionate manner, and plead with him to see good again.

The panel cuts it off, but the art shows her touching Hank's arm.

Fairly certain that man has a kill count in the hundreds of thousands, Jeannie, you sure you want to go with this tack?

Especially in the wake of a shit ton of in-universe Orchis propaganda that's been demonising mutants non-stop, if it were to come out to the public now, people would probably just dismiss it as a complete fabrication, tbh. Hank is one of the few mutants with a legitimately good reputation, so he'd survive it.

He would probably have to deal with some questions from the Avengers, though, especially if he wanted to work with them again or the allegations came from a reputable source, like an X-Man of good name like Storm or Wolverine.

But again. They were both perfectly fine with the Terra Verde genocide. They were both completely fine with the space prison, and a ton of other fucked up shit that Beast did. The point at which it became a problem that needed to be solved is when it affected one of them (the Wolverine mind control saga). That does not reflect well on them, so frankly, I don't think any of them are likely to be selfless enough to point the finger at Hank.

If a writer really wanted to push this to the extreme end of the scale, Hank would probably end up at the Hague International Court of Justice for genocide and a litany of other crimes, and be looking at life imprisonment or the death penalty, depending on what the Marvel universe's version of the Hague doles out. But again, it'd be a shaky court case with a severe lack of witnesses or evidence. It'd basically just be a lot of X-Men pointing at Hank and saying, hey, that guy did fucked up shit that I was fine with him doing until it affected me.

The funny thing is, that X-Force Beast kind of won. Like, I imagine he's going to get gutted by Wolverine at the end of X-Force, that's not really something I doubt, but if the prevailing theory that a younger, more heroic Hank is going to take his place comes true, then he basically just got to do it all with fairly minor repercussions in the grand scheme of things.

Oh no, he's 20 years younger, in the prime of his life, and no longer shackled to the X-Men! Oh no! How awful! How much of a punishment can you logically mete out to a war criminal who doesn't even remember doing what he did, for whom there's no evidence of his actions? You can't really punish young clone Hank for what X-Force Beast did, that's not really justice.

There's been some speculation that X-Force Beast left behind his Avengers era back-up out of romance or love, out of guilt and nostalgia, out of a subtle feeling that he is in the wrong and the only way to fix himself is to go all the way back. And I tend to agree! That's not a bad character beat! It makes sense!

But a part of me is waiting for the reveal that he chose to leave that back-up because there's no way that baby Hank, whose memories end with the Avengers, can be brought to justice for his older self's crimes. We already did this with Cyclops back during the All-New X-Men days. X-Force outplayed them all, and got to do essentially what he wanted.

I don't know if Ben Percy has realised this, because frankly I don't believe he thinks that deeply on what he writes on X-Force, but if things shake out the way his foreshadowing indicates, his villain won.

Maybe that's his final bit of commentary on the CIA? Iunno. I couldn't give less of a fuck about the half-baked crap he's shovelling while he writes a tired Wolverine vs. Sabretooth retread. In-universe, it just means every other writer has a baked in excuse to ignore the bumblefuck bullshit he's been peddling for 5 years.

The only real consequence of all of this is that Beast basically can't interact with the X-Men again unless they retcon that it was all a mind control slug or some bullshit, and . . . like, I like a lot of his relationships with the other X-Men, but they have not been conducting themselves well or been particularly good friends to Hank for close to 20 years now, so I'm fine with that, honestly. Hank's lucky in that he's a versatile character with enough relationships and friendships outside of the X-Men that he could exist for another 60 years, not talk to another X-Man, and still be swimming in stories.

#vinial453 #outofmuffins

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renee-writer · 1 year

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Baby Girl Chapter 61

AO3

“Ick, Ick, Ick!” Claire exclaims as she goes through the histories of the two victims. They are that but predators as well. That fact is made more clear the deeper she dives in.

Their list of crimes scans all from child fondling to rape and sodomy. She has to remind herself they aren’t the subjects of this crime but the victims. The team is facing a similar issue.

“Eh, I am glad he be dead.” The man sits, arms folded, staring across the desk at them. “I wish it were me that gelded him.”

“Ron!” his wife calls out.

“After what that unholy bastard did to her, do you think differently?” He turns to her, his eyes ablaze.

“He was with me.” She calls out, her own eyes pleading, “I swear it. We were in London on holiday. I can give you the hotel information.”

“We don’t believe it was your husband.” Geillis says. “We are interviewing all the families affected by both men. What we need is any that won’t show up on our list. Anyone who’s case wasn’t prosecuted.”

They look at each other and he gives a barely perceived nod. “There was a little girl, a mate of our Emma’s. She accused him,” you can see her struggling to even get the pronoun out, “ of touching her too. They said there was no evidence, that she was just copying Emma. Her name is Harriet Thomas.”

He wakes, strapped to a board, in the dark. “Hello! Hey where am I?”

“You are in the place you will receive your reward.” A voice replies out of the darkness.

“Hey, let me go! Who are you?”

“Justice.” The lights go on and before his eyes can adjust, he feels a dug then a sharp clear pain. He screams as his body realizes what just happened. He continues as he extinguates. His manhood is placed in a jar next to the other two.

#my writing #outlander fanfic #baby girl #chapter 61 #jamie and claire #cannon divergence #outlander fandom #modern au

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mountphoenixrp · 2 years

Photo

We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

Elijah Baird, who is known by no other name, a 21 year old son of Emma-O. He is an associate editor for The Phoenix Rises.

FC NAME/GROUP: Mujin ; Kingdom CHARACTER NAME: Elijah Baird AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: November 20, 2000 PLACE OF BIRTH: Saint Jean-Cap-Ferrat, France OCCUPATION: Associate Editor for The Phoenix Rises HEIGHT: 176 cm (5’9″) DEFINING FEATURES: Always wears a gold necklace with a red gem inherited from his grandmother.

PERSONALITY: Elijah is outgoing and friendly, clearly able and desiring to make others smile. He puts others before himself all the time. Whether it is draining his energy to make enough gems to pay a stranger's bills or by hurting his own hurt for other's happiness, Elijah never hesitates to make others happy. Yet, in doing so, he had hurt himself too many times and became used to being walked over. He has became distrustful of the intention behind friendships, mainly as his powers too often valid that hesitance.

Still, Elijah seeks genuine friendship and a family that looks past his material wealth. He values individuals who are not greedy, and he craves that type of relationship more than any item on the planet. For now, he is plagued with loneliness and feels sorrow over the lack of love from his parents. In so, he looks at Mount Phoenix to provide him with the missing pieces of his heart.

HISTORY: Elijah was born along the coastline of France to two individuals who claimed they had too little time nor resources to take care of the child. Eli ended up being raised by his grandmother who spoiled him in love and took care of him like her own child. Most of his happiness was found in a little hut that constantly smelled like honey and cinnamon. It was the happiest he could remember.

When he started going to school, he found the start of a change within him. His classmates struggled to get away with mischief no matter how sneaky they were with him. He understood far too well with little indication of their intentions. For Elijah, it meant nothing, but as he got home one day and realize the a pretty rock he found for his grandmother had turned to blue, it unlocked a new chapter that would change his life around. Despite his grandmother's hesitations, the small hut soon changed to a livable home. Life started to become easier for his grandmother, and even though she did not dare ask, Elijah made sure every rock that landed on their land was used to make his grandmother's life comfier. It was the least he could do after she had took him and loved him. Even as a child, he knew he should be grateful.

Not long after the growing wealth, his parents suddenly came back in both of their lives. Pleads with Elijah came to let them take him back in, claiming that resources were the only fault. It was an question no child should be forced to answer, and with his grandmother's pushing, he made the wrong one. He chose to give them a chance. And to the fault of both him and his grandmother, the changed leaf that both wanted never happened. Their greed grew as the luxuries came and tripled. When Elijah realized the fault in their reasoning, he tried to go back to his grandmother, but the law would stop him from returning. The corrupted courts decided that his grandmother had no right to take him back in, and he was back to being his parent's money cow.

And for the next several years, he stayed in an increasingly large home with parents too busy spending the money of his gems on vacations, trips, gambling, and everything else that did not include him. In their many trips away, it was the only time he had to try and be with his grandma, to receive some form of care. She was his only source of happiness, and when she passed away just a year after his graduation, all he could had left was sorrow.

But even with her death, preceding and after, his parents were no source of comfort. Elijah buried his grandmother alone and came back to an home with her items. He sorted the evidence of her life full of sadness. When he finally returned back to his large expansive home, that sorrow had changed from anger. Within near a snap of his fingers, the paid housekeepers were called to action, and the rage toward his parents came in an impressive display of destruction that was all packed up into cheap, flimsy suitcases that waited in the rain and sunshine for his parents. Finally, he had gotten the courage to cut them off.

However, he did not receive the boost of energy and happiness he had thought kicking his parents out would have created. Instead, he felt even more alone, devoid of any hope or care for the future. He became the lord of one of the most beautiful homes in the area, but he never showed his face. He took his meals to himself and allowed himself to hide on the internet and in his the many novels that lined his private library. He sought his own solace, but he found himself miserable in that search. Until, one day he stumbled on a video of a group name Hexed. Elijah, immediately, found some connection to their music, pulling him slowly out of his funk. Hexed was evidence, even in their hard rock image, that there was people out there who cared about their family and happiness with little care about the money. The girls gave him a glimmer of hope after years of stark depression. For that, the male believed he owed them the world.

He returned that in part by developing one of the largest fanbase servers that worked hard to generate all the help the girls needed, keeping fans updated with their shows, and even making drives to buy their albums. Yet, he could only do so much from afar, and one day, when a little fan let him in on the fact that they were spotted on an island named Mount Phoenix, he made a connection to an old letter found when sorting his grandmother's items. With that, he knew he had a chance once again to find more good in the world.

PANTHEON: Japanese CHILD OF: Emma-O POWERS: Elijah is capable of turning rocks into gems of all sorts. For the most part, he can control whether he turns it or not, but if he is highly emotional, then he will accidentally turn them into gems. Elijah is insightful, and he can tell people’s intention without trouble. STRENGTHS: Generous, Kind, Warm WEAKNESSES: Lonely, Lack of trust, Desperate for Friendships

#kpop rp #krp #kingdom #ko sungho #kingdom mujin #mp; welcome

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 2 years

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Goretober 2022 Day 7

Prompt: Candy Gore

Summary: Storybrook is overtaken by a curse that turns the townsfolk into candy-craving zombies. Emma and Henry are quite adamant about getting Regina to join them.

Warnings: Gore, death, and body horror

Emma sets a bowl of candy corn on the table. Evidently, Regina is getting sick of it all. Of she and Henry begging for candy and more candy even though they have bowls of the stuff at home. “But it’s Halloween!” They insist.

She doesn’t care if it is Halloween, Christmas, or the self-invented ‘Emma Apprication Day’, she refuses to buy them even another gumball more.

Evidently, she is beginning to think that the whole town has gone feral. Candy crazed. They fist fight over a dropped packet of skittles and shout over the last MnM.

Just a week prior the local general store had seen a riot akin to that of King’s Under The Dome. Regina, though a fan of his works, hadn’t intended on letting her town become another horror story set in a small town in Maine.

She is finding quite quickly that, her wishes are–as per usual–forsaken by the universe itself, or whatever powers have compelled the townsfolk to flock to candy as zombies shamble to living meat.

“Come on, Regina, just one more of those family sized bags.” Henry pleads. Regina’s stomach turns, she has never been so angry at Henry, so aggravated by the very sound of his voice. There is a deep sense of sorrow that comes with her building rage.

And yet, the boy who looks about her just doesn’t seem right.

There is something in his eyes…

Or maybe there is an absence of something?

Or something in place of something else?

Hunger instead of humanity.

It is the very same thing…lack of a thing? That she has been seeing in eyes all around town. Henry no longer looks at her like a mother. He looks at her like a provider and nothing more. It is rattling close to the old days. The days when she had more or less deserved to be looked at with ambivalence at best and resentment at worst.

But she has been good to him. She has been good to Emma. Her only crime this time around is withholding them from obscene amounts of candy.

The quantities that had lead several townsfolk already to gorging themselves to death.

“Just one more!” Henry repeats.

She has long since stopped acknowledging the pleas. And has longer since stopped listening to Emma cuss at and insult her over a lack of chocolate bars–kit-kat bars to be specific. And lately the woman hasn’t even been eating those right! Instead of breaking the sticks apart she has been biting them from the corner.

“Have a piece of candy corn.” Emma insists, pushing the bowl over to her. She does have more humanity left in her eyes than Henry and maybe it is because she is a grown woman. “You’ll understand then.”

“Swan, I don’t think I want to understand this candy fixation. You all are like vampires. Nutritionally challenged vampires.” She is well past the point of caring who she offends. “And you’re rotting your fangs.” She thinks that she is rather funny. She needs something to make her laugh these days.

“Try one little piece.” The expression that Emma tries to imitate is that adorable puppy-eyed pouty face that Regina normally can’t resist. Today is grotesque, uncanny. And maybe it is because her lips have been stained a neausiating blue from fruit roll ups and gushers.

She half expects Emma to start oozing the same fluid in those candies. Her cheeks are puffy enough.

Regina wanders away from the kitchen with a knowingness that Emma is one of the most present of the townsfolk, so to speak. She can still hold up a conversation that doesn’t consist of grunts or chewing noises. God, Regina hates that sound. That sucking and smacking. She hears it in her nightmares.

And she can think of only one culprit for her woes.

But she could have sworn that the Blind Witch has taken up a permeate residence in the Underworld.

Whatever the case may be, whoever might have caused this, she is rather humiliated to be losing her town to this. She wonders if Snow and Charming are embarrassed to be taken down in such an absurd fashion.

She steals a glance out of her window.

She is not unfamiliar with angry mobs.

Hungry, needy mobs are another matter.

Are they really going to claw her apart for the sin of not bulk ordering copious amounts of Halloween candy to replace that which they’ve already ravenously devoured. God, they are looking at her as though they might chew on her limbs instead.

“Just one more…” Henry requests, punctuating the pouding at her door. He girns at her. His smile is decaying. Discolored and rotten. Chipped and broken. There are bits of gummy candy stuck in his gums.

.oOo.

Most days, Regina wakes up hoping that this has all been some sort of sugar-coated nightmare. Today she wakes up bound.

It had been foolish to let Emma and Henry go about unbound. She should have kicked them out of her mansion before the candy corrosion had completely rotted their brains as surely as it had their teeth.

“Just have one bite and you’ll understand.” Emma insists again.

But Regina doesn’t want to. She doesn’t want to be in anyway understanding of the sort of cravings that have stolen most every portion of the people she had loved.

Fleetingly she wonders just when she had stopped thinking of them as Emma and Henry and started think of them the way she thinks of Daniel.

The way she thinks of zombies–of grotesque imitations of the real people.

But they aren’t dead.

They aren’t undead.

Hook is dead, his stomach had ruptured days ago.She’d seen the blood bubbling between his lips. Grumpy is dead, suffocated by chewing gum. His eyes had bulged and his face had bloated. Belle is dead, jaw fractured by candy that lived up to its name. It hangs askew with shattered teeth–Regina had the misfortune of stepping on one of the ones that had fallen out. Henry and Emma are still alive. In theory they could be saved.

But they seem keen on resisting.

Preventing, in fact, if her bindings are anything to go by.

Just as she had wanted everyone to suffer with her, they apparently want her to suffer with them. Emma crouches down in front of her and takes her hand. Regina shudders, the hand that holds her’s is sticky. Her grimace is just the opening that Henry needs to pry her mouth the rest of the way open.

It has been ages since Regina has had candy. She’d stopped eating in years before this epidemic. Maybe that is exactly why that very tiny square of chocolate had tasted so powerfully rich.

So dreadfully irresistible.

#Goretober 2022 #Goretober #Once Upon A Time #Regina Mills #Emma Swan #Henry Mills #Swan Queen #Fanfiction

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arvinsescape · 3 years

Text

Quiet and Shy

A/N: More Arvin! Based on this request that i was sent from @thisisparadisemylove : Hello again! I’m here to put in a request for Arvin x reader where reader is friends with Lenora and much like her she’s a bit shy, blushes easily, etc. and Arvin likes her? I hope that’s enough to go off of! Let me know if you want more details!! Thank you for sending it in and as always hope you enjoy.

Warnings: I don’t think there are any.

W/C: 1.6K

You’d been friends with Lenora for years, both being quiet in school you’d connected quickly. Although you were shy, you tended to get left alone unlike Lenora. You hated that she got bullied, it was awful and as much as you always wanted to defend her, you just couldn’t speak up. That’s usually were her adoptive brother Arvin came in. He was very protective over her. Very protective over his family. Of course, you had a crush on your best friend’s brother. Everything about him made your stomach and heart flutter. Lenora often teased you about it and your face went a shade of red that made her laugh uncontrollably.

You made your way over to Lenora’s house one Saturday, you’d promised each other that you’d study for maths class, neither of you being very good at it. As you approached the door, you knocked, Lenora always told you to just walk in but you never did, you always got to shy and nervous in case anyone said anything, not that they would, the Russell’s loved you, but you could never shake the feeling.

The one person you prayed wouldn’t answer the door did. Arvin. You always found yourself a ridiculously embarrassing blushing mess around him. You watched as he leaned against the doorframe, god he had nice biceps. He smiled at you as he realised who was at the door.

“Hey sweetheart, Lenora never said you were comin’ over.” He said and you blushed at the nick name, you couldn’t remember a time he didn’t use a nick name for you.

“Hey Arvin. I’m supposed to be studying with Lenora today. She in?” You said in a small voice.

“Christ doll, you’re lucky I’ve got good hearin’ otherwise I wouldn’t have heard that.” He laughed, he wasn’t sure why you were always so quiet around him, you’d known him years. “Yeah she’s in the livin’ room.” He gestured behind him as he moved to let you get past him. You smiled shyly at him as you made your way to the living room where Lenora was sat on the couch, pencil in her mouth as she studied the book in her hands.

“Hey Lenora.” You said, catching her attention, she looked up at you and smiled.

“Hey Y/N.” she greeted you. “We should get started, this is blowing my mind.” She laughed as you got to work studying.

Finally, you closed your books and sighed, you’d been at it for hours, some of it sticking, some not. You looked at the time and saw you’d been there all afternoon. “I should probably get goin’, ma will have dinner ready soon.” You said to Lenora.

“No, stay! Grandma won’t mind, she never does. C’mon Y/N, give her a call.” So, you did, and you ended up having a lovely dinner. You kept stealing glance at Arvin and every time Lenora caught you, she’d snicker, earning a playful glare from you. You ended up staying for a while, making your way into Lenora’s room so you could chat privately.

“You are so obvious Y/N.” Lenora suddenly said.

“What are you talkin’ about? Obvious about what?” you asked, brows furrowed.

“How much you like my brother!” She laughed as she spoke a little too loudly for your liking.

“Shh! Lenora!” You groaned as you tried to cover her mouth, she swatted you away still giggling.

“What? It’s not like he doesn’t stare back at you.”

“What? No, he doesn’t.” you replied quickly, Arvin definitely did not like you back, that was ridiculous, why would he? You could barely hold a proper conversation with him.

“He does! I’ve caught him lookin’ at you enough. He’s not so subtle either.” She laughed. She couldn’t help but find it amusing how you pined after one an other but didn’t make a move. “You should just tell him.” She said, suddenly being a little more serious.

“Are you insane? I can barely say ‘hi’ to him without blushing. Besides, I don’t think I’d ever be able to look at him again if I did that.” You sighed.

“Whatever you say Y/N. I know you’d be happier with the results than you think you will.” She shrugged.

“Can we just, I don’t know, talk about something else?” You pleaded. She laughed but agreed and you stayed for another hour before finally deciding you should head home.

“Thank you so much for dinner Mrs Russell, it was amazing.” You said as you headed towards the door.

“How many times child! It’s Emma.” She laughed. “You’re not walkin’ home alone at this time are ya?” She asked and you nodded. “Don’t be ridiculous, I’ll get Arvin to drive you.” Your heart rate picked up at the mention of Arvin and before you could protest, she’d disappeared and not long after Arvin appeared.

“You comin’ Lenora?” Arvin asked as you looked at her with pleading eyes, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Arvin and he swears he felt his heart shatter, were you frightened of him?

“No, I’m pretty tired I’m gonna head up to bed.” She said as she looked at you, a smirk appearing on her face. God dammit Lenora!

“Come on then love, I should get you home.” Arvin said as he started towards the door.

“You really don’t have to take me, I don’t wanna be a pain.” You said, you felt heat rush to your cheeks. Why were you like this?

“What? An’ I let you walk home alone? What if somethin’ happens to ya, wouldn’t forgive myself. Come on.” He said in a slightly more demanding tone and your feet followed him out of the door and into his car.

It was quiet for a while before Arvin suddenly sighed and took a turn off, not in the direction of your house. You panicked, what was he doing?

“Arvin? Wha-“ You began to say before he spoke up.

“I’ll take you home I promise but I just wanna talk to you.” He sighed as he stopped the car and turned to face you.

“Okay…” You said hesitantly.

“Do I scare you?” He suddenly asked and your eyes snapped up to his. He was looking at you in a way you couldn’t quite explain, almost as though he was afraid of your answer.

“N-no, what makes you say that?”

“I don’t know you always get shy around me and I know you’re quiet but sweetheart I’ve watched how you interact with Lenora and I’ve known you just as long and you’re different with her, more open. It almost seems like you never wanna be on your own with me, and that look you gave Lenora before we set off?” He said, hurt was evident in his eyes.

“I’m not scared of you Arvin. I know you wouldn’t hurt me. It’s just, look, it doesn’t matter.” You mumbled as you disconnected your gaze. This wasn’t something Arvin wanted, and his hand slid under your chin and turned you back to face him. You blushed and your heart fluttered at the intense look he was giving you, he was looking at you like you were the last thing on Earth he’d ever see.

“It does matter. You can tell me. It’s okay love. I won’t judge.” He said as he continued to look at you. God he was beautiful, why couldn’t you just say it? Oh yeah, because he wouldn’t feel the same. You just shook your head as you tried to escape his grasp, you were blushing furiously now. His grip tightened, not enough to hurt you but enough so you couldn’t move.

“Tell me.” He ushered.

“I can’t. It’s embarrassing.”

“Okay, then I’ll start. I like you sweetheart, always have. There’s somethin’ about you that’s intrigued me from day one. Hell, I think I’d go as far as to say I’m in love with you. I love how shy you are because you don’t open up too many people and I’d be honoured if you started to open up more to me. Christ love, I really want you to be mine.” He finished his speech and you felt as if the wind had been knocked out of you. He liked you back? No he loves you.

“I like you too Arvin, that’s why I’m so quiet around you, I never wanna say anythin’ embarrassing. I’ve liked you for years, probably love you. I just always get so nervous around you.” You smiled at him as his face lit up.

“Thank God for that. I was worried you were gonna reject me.” He laughed lightly. “You don’t have to be shy around me you know? I wouldn’t find anything about you embarrassing.” Your nerves were starting to settle a little. He moved his hand to your cheek and held it tenderly. “Be my girlfriend sweetheart?” He asked you in a pleading tone.

“Yes.” You answered almost instantly making him grin. He leaned forward and closed the gap between the two of you. It was a tender kiss, full of your feelings for each other. There wasn’t anything desperate about it, he didn’t want to push you. He pulled away and you blushed before he started the engine back up, still grinning to himself and you to yourself.

“Come on doll. Let’s get you home.” He said as he reached his hand over and placed it on your thigh. You took it in your hand and played with his fingers as he drove you home. He stole glances at you every now and again and smiled. You might have been a quiet and shy girl but at least now you were his quiet and shy girl.

#Arvin Russell #arvin x reader #arvin russell imagine #arvin russell x y/n

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wizkiddx · 3 years

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without making this a sap story ive had some not so great news from home and am in one of them moods to not talk abt it. but i need a tom h to hug me , pls could u write something like that?

hey anon - i am sending u all my love, and hope things get a little easier for u as soon as possible. if u ever do wanna chat abt nothing or rant just send me a pm x I hope this is at least somewhat what u were looking for <33

summary: life is sometimes not good, but your fave boy makes it just a little easier to deal with (with some original help from his brother too)

a bit angsty but i promise mainly fluff (and a popcorn fight?)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What drew you out of the sort-of-trance was a two soft but firm knocks at the door - well Tom’s bedroom door. You’d been relaxing with him and Harry, watching the new ‘Line of Duty’ when your mum had called for the daily catch up. Admittedly, she had already tried to call you twice today but somehow you’d managed to miss both of them. On reflection, possible not that shocking because you’d been at a charity golf day with the boys which involved a fair amount of noise, chat and competition.

Thankfully the boys had both done pretty well, Tom coming slightly ahead but that was the norm between the two. It meant they were both happily basking in their relative victories and not moody and grumpy like they are oh so often when things go wrong. Because to them, against your pleading, begging and sometimes lecturing…. golf was not just a game.

You and your mum had always been very close, so usually speaking to her was uplifting and made you feel a little bit more complete - what with travelling with Tom for work, her voice was a slice of home. This time though, it was not so much the case. It was just sad news about your home town. Nothing directly to your family or close friends but still, it makes you feel generally down.

Who knows how long it’d been since you’d hung up on the phone, just staring at the wall opposite. Everything felt just hollow and empty, lacking in meaning somewhat. You weren’t necessarily thinking, more like devoid of emotion, of thoughts, of anything. Just a bit cold.

“Y/n…Y/n?” His voice sounded hesitant, as though scared he was interrupting your call. When you didn’t respond, the door cracked open and his fluffy head poked in, not that you noticed - your brain was still half absent. Tom on the other hand, was instantly looking you up and down, very much confused as the why you looked so rigid and not present. Noticing the phone was lying quiet on the bed in front of you, he felt safe to enter. He made a beeline for the bed, perching himself down on the edge, in-front of you - so he was blocking your fascinating view of the grey wall opposite.

“What’s going on in that little head of yours?” His voice was soft and gravely, choosing not to put much energy into his vocal box as he rubbed up and down one of your arms.

“Hmmm? Sorry, was miles away.”

“Could tell darl.” As he chuckled his eyes crinkled round the outside. “How was your mum?”

“Yeh…um okay, I-I guess.” As much as you wanted to shake yourself out of it, it just wasn’t that easy. Everything was laced with this underlying chilliness.

“You sure? You dont really sound it?”

“No, I um…well I’m not sure. I think I’m okay?”

“What happened?” You shook your head in response, making Tom press his lips together with a small nod. “ Don’t wanna talk about it huh?”

“Not… not right now. Please?”

With a permitting nod, Tom stood up and squeezed your hand, urging you to follow. Trailing behind him into the living room, he then instructed you to take a seat on the sofa adjacent to Harry, Tom himself disappearing back into the house. It made you pout a little, you wanted him to just look after you a little this evening but that self pity wasn’t allowed to last long - because a piece of popcorn flew into your cheek. You whipped your head around, with mouth open feigning shock, to see Harry smirking at you cradling a bowl full of other possible missiles in hand.

“And what was that for?” He shrugged his shoulders, turning his head back to the TV.

“You looked sad.”

“…” Your mouth was open, no words coming out though, as you looked at the frizzy haired boy in bemusement. Sometimes you thought you understood how his head worked but at other points, the boy was a bloody mystery. Instead of explaining his thought process (because there almost certainly wasn’t one), he just smiled evily at you - wiggling his brows. And I know you know what that meant.

Sure enough by the time Tom reentered the room, arms full with different objects he’d collected round the house, the floor had been littered with popcorn kernels. You and Harry were squealing at each other as handfuls of the snack were catapulted vaguely at each other as you chased him round the room. It took Tom shouting at the both of you for you to freeze, slowly lowering your hands in ceasefire with a giggle.

“I leave you alone for two minutes.”

“ It was his fault!” You protested, causing a 5 minute of ‘ he said-she said’ between the two of you, even if Tom wasn’t listening to the bickering. Instead, he quickly whizzed round the room picking up all the obvious popcorn bits and then spread out all the blankets he’d got from round the rented house on the sofa.

You knew Harry, in his very own and special way, was only doing all this to cheer you up and you couldn’t appreciate it more. Your relationship with him had recently got so much closer, thanks to Tom being busy on set actually filming - while you and Harry just had some quality ‘almost sibling’ times. And now living with him too - naturally he had grown to know your tells almost as well as Tom.

“Alright children calm down… thought we could watch movie?” Plopping himself down on the cream seat, Tom made grabby hands to you which of course you had to comply with.

“I’ll um… I’m gonna leave you to- well to the being in love shit. It’ll make me chunder”

“We love you too bro” Tom called to Harry, who was already on his way out - but the tone of gratefulness in his voice was evident, he appreciated Harry noticing that the two of you could do with time together.

“Don’t make it weird!” Harry’s response had you sniggering, as you pulled the fluffiest blanket over both you and Tom and nestling into his side.

After a few minutes of Tom pretending to argue with you about film choice, before ultimately agreeing with your choice of ‘La la land’ as he always planned on letting you. The Holland boys were both very talented at subtly being a shoulder if needed, and yes you knew it was all an act - but you weren’t about to call him out. About halfway through he kissed the crown of your head and murmured. “Can tell you’re not watching darling.” He wasn’t wrong to be fair. Yes, you were looking at the screen - but your mind was far away from the plot line.

“Sorry I um… minds like a runaway train sometimes.” Tom released a breathy chuckle at that before murmuring a ‘come ‘ere’ to you as he all but lifted you up from sitting by his side. You ended up lying almost onto of him, with both of Tom’s strong arms holding you tightly to him. Smiling into his chest, you nestled closer so the soundtrack to the movie played over the top of his constant thudding heartbeat. It took a few moments of you both just staring into the screen, completely contented for Tom to speak, squeezing you slightly tighter whilst the two of you watched Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone twirling on the road.

“I gotchu now lovie”

And you swore then that all the thoughts racing in your mind were outpaced by those of a different kind. Still intense ideas, ones that buzzed round your brain, but these were happy. Thoughts of ‘how could I be so lucky’ and ‘I love this man with my whole heart’.

Apparently these thoughts were also a comfort because when Tom looked down at you after what must’ve been at least half an hour, you were spark out. Breathing deep and unchanging, eye locked shut and mouth slightly squashed against his chest so your lips were pressed together. But what made the boy physical pout was the way you relaxed hand was loosely balled round a fistful of his purple hoodie. As if you were clutching at him to keep him as close to you as possible.

He felt so grateful - not only for you, but also for the fact that he had the ability to make it a little better. You didn’t need him - Tom swore you were one of the most fiercely independent people he’d ever met - yet it was clear you wanted him. You wanted him when you felt down, the same way you wanted to be around him when you were overly hyper and chatting pure rubbish. You didn’t want him because he was the ‘Tom Holland’ you wanted him because he was Tom.

He couldn’t fix what was going on back at your home (I mean right now, he still didnt even know what was going on). But he did know how to make everything just a little less shit. He knew how to be your person.

And that would forever be job Tom was most proud of.

once again sending u all lots of love (esp u anon 💕)

would love to know what u guys think if ya made it this far ;)

tagging (link to join) : @hallecarey1 @hollandfanficlove

#tom holland #Tom Holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland blurb #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagines #harry holland

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whosscruffylooking · 3 years

Text

Instinct Part Two: Interrogations and Intrigue (Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader)

A/N: I'm super excited for this part. Spencer and Reader’s relationship finally has some foundation!

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings! Mentions of suicide and manipulation.

(Reader’s POV)

I tap my foot anxiously as I peer around the bland and intimidating interrogation room. It looks like something out of a mental asylum in a 1980's horror movie. They want me frightened? They got me.

Count Dracula barges in abruptly and sits opposite from me. I wince at the sound of the metal chair scraping against the cement floor.

“My name is SSA Aaron Hotchner. I'd like to take a moment to get your description of the man who broke into your apartment," he shows no emotion.

I nod, "Well, he had his hood up and a bandana on, but from what I could tell, he had green eyes...maybe blue...or hazel. I'm sorry, I'm not a hundred percent sure. He was just a little bit taller than me, so maybe 5'8 or 9. He climbed out of my window, so clearly, he's at least slightly athletic. He disguised his voice; he made it sound almost like Batman."

He writes down some notes. A statement that the other agent presented to me at the crime scene puzzles me. I decide to inquire for myself.

"The other agent..." "Dr. Reid?" "No, Emma? Emily?" "Yes, Agent Prentiss." "Yes, her. She told me at the ambulance that I might be the key to solving this. What did she mean by that? This wasn't just a one-off robbery? How could it involve me?"

He purses his lips, obviously pondering the right response, "What do you know of the Nomad Boys?"

My heart rate rises, but I promptly disguise my anxiety. "You get straight to the point, don't you," I quip, "I know that they used to operate about a block from my old neighborhood growing up. A lot of people have lost their lives because of them. Both figuratively and literally."

"Are you aware of your brother's involvement with them?" Agent Hotchner examines me.

I gasp. What kind of game is he playing here? I shift uneasily in my seat, "Excuse me?"

"We have significant evidence that your brother Jeremy was involved with the Nomad Boys from 2015 until his death."

I slam my fist on the table, "How dare you. How dare you bring my brother up and implicate him in illegal activities that he had no part in. Is this what you people do? You're so desperate to close a case that you can't admit defeat in then you pin it on people who aren't even here to defend themselves?"

"You seem relatively defensive yourself. Care to explain why?" The emotionless man taunts.

"Two hours ago, I was the victim of a failed robbery, and now I'm being interrogated by the feds about my dead brother? Is that not a good enough reason to get defensive?" I clamor back.

Tears sting my eyes and threaten to spill over as I dig my fingernails into the palm of my hand, trying frantically to suppress my growing rage. He watches me like a predator to its prey. The sound of my rapid heartbeat muffles my hearing. I can feel my skin heat up with anger. I stare right back, eager to display my disdain for his treatment.

"If you'd excuse me," he gathers his files and leaves the room. I exhale shakily and hastily wipe the stray tears from my eyes, desperate to gain my composure.

(Spencer's POV)

Hotch exits the interrogation room and clutches my shoulder, "You're up. She knows more than she's letting on, even if she doesn't realize it. She will feel more comfortable with you." "Hotch...I-I feel like maybe Emily or Morgan should go in. Not me." "Why?" He glares at me. I swallow the lump in my throat.

I have a job to do.

"Forget about it," I say, stepping past him into the dimly lit room. She looks up at me with pleading eyes, silently begging me not to put her through what Hotch did. I sit across from her, noticing her obsessive picking at the skin of her fingers. Her knee bounces and lightly taps against the underside of the table.

She takes a deep breath and breaks the stillness, "Whatever it is they are thinking, it's not true. None of it is true. They're wrong."

"Y/N, I appreciate your willingness to cooperate and come back to the precinct with us and sit in here to be interviewed."

She throws her head back and laughs, "My willingness to cooperate?Interviewed? You mean interrogated, right?"

"I know this must feel like an ambush," I say, and she jeers, "but I promise if you just hear us out, the sooner we can rule you and your brother out of this."

She sits up, eyes wide, her posture defensive, "You just said my brother and me. Am I a suspect too? For god's sake, I don't even know what we are suspected of! Do you think I'm apart of the Nomad Boys too?"

Strike one, Spencer. Don't screw up again.

"I didn't mean it like that, y/n."

"But you said it," she crosses her arms.

"I need to ask you some questions about your brother's death."

"I'm going to be sick. Screw you, Dr. Reid."

I can't manipulate her. I don't want to. I can't use months of researching her to achieve our agenda.

It doesn't feel right. Why doesn't it feel right?

But for the efficiency and success of this case, it's required.

"Every day, you wake up in fear of the nightmares that haunt you each night. You live with the images of your brother engrained in your mind. The patterns he used to follow every day have now been adopted by you, most likely in an attempt to keep his spirit alive somehow. You are constantly looking over your shoulder because, still to this day, aspects of his death leave you unsettled and uncertain. You opened the door today because you were under the impression that the person on the other side would be able to offer you insight into your brother's death. He couldn't because he had another agenda, but I can. I can give you that insight; I just need you to work with me."

I watch as she struggles to fight the pain that comes from masking her fear. I got to her.

Why do I feel so guilty?

Her lip trembles as she begins to speak, "I know he didn't kill himself. That's all." "What makes you so sure?"

She releases a sob and then grapples with composing herself, "B-because he loved his family. He loved life. His girlfriend was pregnant; he was going to be a father. What kind of man who was so family-oriented and had such a bright future ahead of him would do that to himself, to his future child?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize he had a child." "Aren't you guys supposed to know stuff like that? Shouldn't you come in here armed and ready with any ammunition needed to break me down?" She cocks her head. "We do. We try to find out all vital information on our suspects and those connected with them." "That's how you know that I follow the same routine as my brother? Have you been watching me?"

I can feel a bead of sweat drip down the back of my neck; I reach my hand around to pat it off and to buy myself time to come up with a sufficient answer. She chuckles, "You don't have to answer that. I've seen you and Count Dracula in there tailing me."

My heart stops, and I swallow unexpectedly, slightly choking in the process. "For professionals, you sure don't take into consideration the fact that most people are suspicious of black SUVs now...mainly because of tv shows. Black Suburbans with tinted windows are either law enforcement or a celebrity. And judging by the fact that no celebrity would ever willingly set foot in my town, I was quickly able to determine which I was looking at every Monday and Friday from 10am to 5:30pm. You should really try getting some red cars, maybe blue, just try and blend in a bit."

"Actually," I begin falling back on my knowledge as a way to diffuse the situation, "Any vehicle, when suitably modified, can be utilized as a police vehicle, but the most prevalent are those produced or altered by manufacturers for the role of being a police vehicle."

"Validation and dissemination: am I making you uncomfortable, Dr. Reid?" She raises her eyebrow. I adamantly shake my head, "Not at all. I was merely dissecting your point and proving it to be a failed tactic to intimidate me."

She looks at me keenly, but not in the way she had looked at Hotch. No, she peers at me as if striving to convey a message, an offer to be her ally. While locked into her gaze, I can't help but study her. Contrary to all of the times we followed her, hidden within the shelter of our car, I can now learn her up close. She is attractive in a flawed, approachable way. Her vulnerability camouflages a might that even she doesn't perceive exists.

(Reader's POV)

I study him thoroughly. He baffles me. A man in the station he is, maintaining the job he has, and bearing the weight of both victims and perpetrators on his shoulders, should be coarse, bitter, emotionless, much like the first agent who grilled me. Yet, here he is, eyes lighting up when he starts to spout off facts. His nervous ticks overflow, making it seem like he is incapable of withholding the truth of what this job does to him. He doesn't want to put me in this position. He's not like the standard brute that treats this job, and it's prey as if they are nothing but a bridge to walk over to get appreciation and approval.

"I want to help you," he proposes in a hushed tone.

"I know," I whisper, easing back in my seat.

Unexpectedly, he offers me a wink and then stands from his chair. Stepping over to the door, he clasps the doorknob but delays for a moment. I look at him in anticipation. Looking back at me, he declares, "I'm going to get you answers. I promise you that." And with that, he's disappeared behind the two-way glass. A feeling of being left alone in an alternate universe overwhelms me.

Spencer is somewhere out there on the side of the good guys, his reputation untainted, with the certainty that he will be going home tonight. I, on the other hand, have lived in uncertainty since my brother died. Here I sit, on the side of the glass that is riddled with darkness and evil. Spencer lives in a world of heroes. But I have been subjected to the world of criminals. I have a feeling, though, that I won't have to navigate it alone.

Tag list:

@mcntsee

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writefightandflightclub · 3 years

Text

You are my sunshine (Finn x GN reader)

What is this? This is 7/10 one-shots/blurbs for my “friends to lovers” event. (More deets in pinned post). The prompt is from @phoenixhalliwell and is Finn with “You think something is wrong but I simply have a huge crush on you and turn to jelly whenever you’re around.” Emma, thanks so much, and I hope that you like this! <3 I don’t write Finn often so I dearly hope I did him justice!

Author’s note: Finn! He’s precious. He deserves everything! Hope you enjoy this- there’s a little bit of angst but it’s followed by fluff. Everything ends well <3

Word count: 3k. You had all better be proud of me for writing something less than 5k :P

Warnings: lil bit of angst (reader thinks Finn is mad at them). Trapped in a cockpit but no danger / not claustrophobic or anything. Slight reader insecurity. It’s pretty light tbh :o)

You watch Finn leave with a sharp pang of pain. His excuses are becoming more and more elaborate, and it’s wearing thin.

“Sorry, I have to go and deal with a porg infestation on the Falcon.”

“I can’t hang around, Leia’s fuming mad at Poe - he made some crude Outer Rim innuendo during the briefing and she is pissed.”

“I can’t play sabacc anyway because... because I got dust in my eyes on the mission and everything is blurry.”

“I have to run and...” and then he, in fact, ran away from you.

Alright, the first two were feasible, but that last one, especially? Pretty kriffing flimsy.

It was beginning to sting a little. Alright, a lot. You and Finn usually hung out, whenever he was around on base. You always had, ever since Finn had taken control of his fate and been welcomed by the Resistance.

Since then, you had become his first real friend, and when everything was scary and new to him, you had held his hand. Literally- Finn was always reaching for you. For comfort. For reassurance. To demonstrate his fondness of you. Just because.

Of course, he’d settled into the Resistance like he’d always been a part of it, and had quickly formed a range of new friendships, including with Poe and Rey - all the cool kids on base. Of course he had. The man is likeable, courageous, and he has sunshine in his heart - despite being raised in the shadows. The strength of his light is so powerful that it blinds you sometimes. So, he’d made other friends, but you had always been his first, and his best.

At least, until now.

Recently, Finn’s touches and warm hugs and light had begun to retreat from your sky. You miss his bright brown eyes and his beaming smile desperately. You miss your movie nights and long chats. You miss laughing until your sides hurt. You miss the way he can turn anything into an adventure. The way he really listens when you talk, and his good, brave, generous heart.

This distance? It is more than a natural drift - it is more an intentional break. Intentional on his side, at least. Most definitely not on yours.

You don’t know why. You don’t know what you’ve done wrong…

…But you are determined to find out.

And, if Finn won’t talk to you off his own back, you’ll simply have to concoct some flimsy excuse of your own.

***

That’s exactly what you do, yourself and Finn now sealed together, alone, in the cockpit of some old cargo ship.

“You’ve trapped us in here?!” the man exclaims, voice loud and ringing with a rising panic.

“No,” you sigh, defeatedly. You don’t want to panic him - you just want to talk to him; without him running away. “You’re not trapped. Obviously, I’d never actually...” you trail off as you watch Finn urgently button-bashing on the control panel by the door, clearly pretty desperate to leave. “I just thought…” you explain, raising your voice a little to be heard over his rising and increasingly vocal frustration. “It was supposed to be a chance for us to talk.”

Finn turns towards you, all this energy coiling in his body, practically bouncing on his toes in his rush to get out of there. He looks as though the prospect of talking to you fills him with dread.

Your face drops. You should have realised this was a bad idea.

“We talked this morning,” Finn defends, weakly. Yeah, for all of two seconds. “Can’t you open this thing?” he pleads, throwing his thumb towards the door.

Fine. Whatever. If he’s that desperate to flee from you, so be it. Maybe you need to accept the fact that things aren’t the same between you anymore. Maybe never will be. Your heart aches in your chest.

Your shoulders slumping, you push the Jedi-in-training and all-round Resistance hero aside, punching the unlock code into the panel.

It beeps angrily in response.

A furrow in your brow, you try again.

“Oh, kriff.”

“What is it?” Finn asks from over your shoulder.

This is fine, actually. You have a back-up. Except, you pat your belt for your communicator, remembering at the same time exactly where you left it in the hangar.

“Okay,” you turn around to face him, your face locked in an apologetic grimace, hands raised in surrender. “So, we may actually be trapped now, but I would like to emphasise this was very much not The Plan.”

Finn purses his full, brown lips together, in entirely transparent irritation, an ire brewing in his eyes.

“I’m sorry!” you say defensively, though you note that your friend, Finn, would have found this funny -made the best of it- and the Finn is front of you now is someone else entirely.

“Being stuck here with you is the last thing I need right now,” Finn says into his hands, the words muffled, and yet their meaning perfectly -and painfully- clear.

Oh. Okay. That’s how it is?

You take a step back from him, wrapping your arms around yourself and rotating quickly away to face the transparisteel window. His harshness feels so alien to you, and bitter tears sting in your eyes, which you don’t want him to see.

“Kriff. That’s not what I meant. It came out wrong,” Finn says softly from behind you, and you finally hear the familiar kindness infusing his voice. The kindness you’ve been so desperate to enjoy again these past weeks. “What I meant was... was...”

Your back to him still, you raise your arm in the air. “Save it, Big Deal. You don’t want to talk to me? Let’s not talk,” you bite, your voice low and taut.

You’ve given Finn the benefit of the doubt for long enough now. Maybe this was a problem you shouldn’t try to fix. He obviously likes things precisely as they are.

Finn, for his part, hovers beside you, clearly apologetic, but you can’t even bring yourself to look at him. Instead, you focus all of your energies on popping open the console, pulling out the wire guts, and looking for a way to open this damn door.

He may have been running away from you, but now you’re the one who wants nothing more than to get out of there.

You had wanted to talk, but all of a sudden you don’t want to hear it. You can’t take one more flimsy excuse without breaking.

***

You’d tried everything. Banging on the door, waving out of the viewports. Trying to find a hatch to escape out of. There was nothing left to do but wait for your data patch to run. You’d linked-up some wires and an old data-pad to the controls, and it was simply a matter of time before your program loaded, overriding the door panel and thus letting you out of there.

Unfortunately, the small matter of time is proving problematic. It has already been about an hour, and the screen indicates your program is only about 75 per cent through -blasted old tech- and you’re not sure how much longer you can endure this fraught, awkward silence.

Save for your escape attempts, you and Finn still haven’t spoken, and, eventually admitting defeat, you have each sunk to the floor on opposite sides of the cockpit, your knees drawn-up to your chest and backs pressed against the walls of the cool metal chamber. Now, the increasingly cool metal chamber, as the afternoon draws on and the suns begin to sink below the horizon.

You sigh.

“Why are you avoiding me, Finn?” you finally ask, firmly, bringing your eyes to meet his. “And, I beg you. No more kriffing excuses.”

Finn’s knees are drawn-up too, and his elbows resting on top of them, fingers weaving and fiddling together somewhere in the middle as your question finds him.

He purses his lips together once more, his bright, expressive eyes brimming with trepidation, his hand coming up to self-consciously brush against the tip of his rounded nose.

Eventually, his head drops down, until you’re only looking at the top of it. He’s growing out his tightly-coiled, black hair on the top, sides closely cropped, and you idly note that the length suits him. There’s nothing else to note, as he still isn’t saying anything.

Still, when you take a step back from your anger and your boredom, you recognise all the signs of him being anxious, now that he can no longer run away from your questions.

“It’s not what you think,” he sighs, and you shake your head in continued frustration and look sharply away, up and out of the viewport.

And, in the continued absence of an answer from him, your insecurities begin to fill in the blanks. “You know, Big Deal, you don’t have to hang around me just because I’m the first person you met.” Out of the corner of your eye you see Finn’s head snap up to look at you, distress shining in his eyes. You ignore it. “If you’ve decided this friendship isn’t what you need anymore, I can take it. I just wish you’d stop bullshitting me. I deserve better than that.”

Then, you try to suppress it, but you shiver, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to keep warm. You’ve felt chilly for a while now, but you have desperately been trying to conceal the fact.

Without missing a beat, Finn slips his -Poe’s- jacket off from his shoulders, shuffling closer to you, without rising from the floor. As he shrugs it off, he reveals nothing but a white, ribbed vest underneath, tight over his toned figure, and tucked into his belt at his waist. The vest sits in contrast with the deep brown of his skin, the bulge of his cultivated muscles evident in his strong, densely-packed shoulders and arms.

This? This is precisely what you’ve been trying to avoid. You feel warmer already.

Regardless, he moves to your side, kneeling next to you, and he pauses when he gets there. Hesitates. He lifts his finger, running it ever so slowly over the textured goosepimples on your forearm. “You’re cold,” he states, his voice so deep and rich, and his touch and his proximity sending a shiver through you in an entirely different way. You’d like to argue, you really would, but he weakens you, his sudden warmth melting you quickly after his long absence, and you let him guide you forward enough that he can drape his jacket around your shoulders. It is still warm from his body heat. It smells like him.

You wanted silence, but this is the kind that you don’t like; tense, albeit in a different way.

“Thank you,” you say thinly, expecting Finn to pull immediately away again. But he doesn’t.

Instead, his eyes go a little wide and afraid, even as he sets his jaw determinedly. He reaches his hand out, ghosting it slowly down the length of your arm, until he has scooped one of your hands up and flattened it in-between his own broad, warm palms.

Holding your hand.

You’ve missed that so much.

You watch Finn in gentle puzzlement, as his pink tongue nervously swipes out over his bottom-lip. And, with your eyes gently encouraging him to go on, he finally blurts it out. He finally says what he’s been keeping from you.

“I have a huge crush on you. I turn to kriffing jelly whenever you’re around me.”

Your hand suddenly becomes clammy, held in-between his. Your heart quickens.

Wait, what?

“I’m so sorry if I hurt you,” he says, his eyes soft like distant starlight. “It’s just, I panic. I know I like to pretend I’m all smooth...” he chuckles self-consciously, that laugh sounding from deep in his chest, and oh boy, you’ve missed that sound too. You’ve missed that gorgeous pearly smile, which blooms tentatively on his face.

“Smooth?! You do a terrible job of that, Finn, no-one’s buying it,” you tease, but it’s fond, your free hand settling on top of his, and your eyes crinkling with reciprocal joy as his beautiful broad smile widens, his face full of sparkle and light.

“Oh? Okay. That’s how it is?” he laughs.

You’ve missed this. Have missed him.

That’s it? That’s all it is? He has a crush?

After a few moments, the two of you apparently basking in relief -on your part that you haven’t done anything wrong, and on his, that his confession is finally through- his smile naturally falls from his lips; however, it lingers in his eyes, that gentle starlight back again.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you. I just… kept messing everything up around you. I didn’t want you to think I was the biggest dumbass on base.”

“Oh, Finn, honey-” you grin, and he completes the sentence with you, nodding, and a big chuckle falling out of him. “Poe is the biggest dumbass on base.”

Isn’t that the truth?

You simply look at each other for a moment, all this starlight swirling in the space between you.

“Come here,” you say softly, finally, unable to resist, and you shuffle on to your knees so you can lean forward and give him the biggest hug, your arms folding around his sturdy, muscled form. It feels so good to close this distance, especially after so long. Especially as no-one on base gives better hugs than Finn, you are reminded, as he holds you.

“Are we... cool?” he asks apprehensively, into your shoulder as he squeezes you tightly, and you pull back from him, your hands still resting on his shoulders and his weaving under, settled around your waist.

“We’ll always be cool, Finn. It’s going to take more than that.”

“Yeah?” he smiles happily. “Good, because I missed you so kriffing much. I have so much to tell you.”

“And I want to hear it, but first,” your mouth tips up into a smirk. “Can I kiss you now?”

Finn’s eyes widen in shock and he makes a bunch of noises – broken, flustered syllables and consonants, his eyelashes fluttering in disbelief. He’s sunk into his relief so readily, that he must have forgotten entirely to entertain the idea you might like him back.

Your hands trail all the way down his toned arms, until you slowly fold his hands into yours, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “Play it cool, Finn,” you tease, giving him a quick wink.

He schools himself, and even as you notice a hard swallow bob down his throat, and he lets out a long, slow exhale of breath through the circle of his lips, he makes use of his classic bravado. At least, for long enough to get some coherent strings of words out.

“Yes please. Y-yeah. Kiss me. You... should do that.”

Too many words.

So, you inch forward, and you press a fleeting, light, chaste kiss to his impossibly soft lips. Just enough to shut him up, before dipping your head back, giving him time to respond.

He looks at you sweetly, in shock for a moment, but, before you know it, his lips are chasing yours with a whole new confidence, and his mouth twitches-up in a smile as he meets you again. This time, the kiss is not fleeting. This time, it is drawn-out; a slow, sensual, gradually deepening thing. He hums against your mouth, the sound low and reverberating through you, and, as the kiss grows, his broad hands slowly and safely lower you down against the cockpit floor, arranging his jacket under you so that your skin needn’t touch the cold metal - only his warmth.

When you break for air, he settles himself over you, strong arms holding him up, his eyes shining with disbelief and adoration. He looks at you in a way that says – yes, you may have been his first friend, but that, maybe, you could be his first love as well.

As he gazes down at you, your hands wind up around the back of his head, skimming lovingly over his textured, raven hair, and readying to pull him back down to you, eager to drink more of him in. To feel more of his skin against yours. However; you are cruelly interrupted by a harsh sequence of beeps, indicating that the door is finally unlocked. Finn briefly twists his head over his shoulder, confirming with a look.

“Power’s back on- we can get out of here now,” you say breathily from under him.

“Nah,” he says, with a subtle smirk and a shake of his head, apparently not wanting to move anywhere that would shift his warm body from on top of yours. “I think we should stay here a little longer, how about you?”

“Fine by me, Finn,” you agree quickly, beaming back at him, like the moon reflecting sunlight, basking in his warm glow.

His eyes narrow for a moment, searching yours, and he rolls you both on to your sides, your thigh coming to land over him, and his warm hand begins to stroke you there, as his sweet, languid kisses continue to find you in succession, his breaths coming more quickly, his need unravelling. “Is this okay?” he asks, pausing momentarily to skim his thumb over your cheek and down under your chin. “How are you feeling?”

While Finn seems relatively calm and sure right now, you are suddenly feeling like jelly. “Shaking. Nervous,” you admit, your words trembling out of you.

He nods a little, like he could tell. Maybe he could feel you tremble against him, or maybe it’s deeper than that. Maybe it’s the Force. You certainly feel like something deep and powerful is eddying between you.

“It’s okay,” Finn promises softly, his voice breath, and planting a small kiss to the tip of your nose. “If you want to keep going, I’ll be here to hold you.”

Your eyes shine with happy tears, and this time, when you drag him enthusiastically to your lips, your legs wrapping more tightly around him, you know that you need not be nervous at all. It has always felt right whenever he reached for you, ever since the beginning; and now is no exception. It is so much more than him holding you physically – you feel safe in his arms in every way you could.

You had missed him so deeply, not only because you have a huge crush on him right back, but also because he is your friend. And while he may not have been your first? He is certainly your best.

Finn is your sunshine, and you are endlessly pleased to have him back; to see him shining.

#finn star wars #finn x reader #john boyega #finn (star wars) x reader #star wars imagine

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sadistgalore · 3 years

Note

We need #9 for Harper! (Also, I have an OC named Emma. Lol.)

@distinctlywhumpthing

holy shit i actually got an ask and that's so cool that your OC and I share the same name! I'll be sure to check out your stuff!

Taglist: @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams, @whumptakesthecake, @all-whumped-out

Please let me know if you would like to be added/removed from the taglist.

---

#9- strangle my muse (from this list here, don't be afraid to ask more prompts!)

CW: lady whump, sadistic whumper, punishment, strangling, loss of voice, death threats, near death, stabbing/impalement, emeto mention

Harper’s mind didn’t process the vase falling at first. She saw it tip, then drop to the floor and crash, but her mind was empty as she watched it happen.

What she did process was a door slamming, and her Master yelling What the fuck did you just do?! That’s when she realized the broken pieces of china on the floor, that once belonged to one of Dark’s prized possessions. The same one he had threatened her with extreme pain if anything ever happened to it.

And now it’s broken. Destroyed. Useless. Like she will soon be.

Harper shakily looked up from her mistake towards the man who had finally arrived in the sitting room, his own face in such shock and disbelief that Harper couldn’t predict what would happen next. She spoke before he could say anything. “I-I-It was an-an accident-”

Dark let out a scream of pure fury and wrath as he lunged for her, the sheer force pushing her against the wall as his hand settled tightly around her throat. “You fucking bitch! Do you have any idea what you just did?!”

Harper couldn’t respond or apologize even if she wanted to. His rough fingers had an iron grip around her thin neck, the space to breathe becoming smaller and smaller.

“You had one fucking job, one fucking job!” He yelled as he slammed her head into the wall, but she couldn’t even let out a scream as his hand finally cut off her air. She let out choked gasps and her hands began to grasp desperately at his, but her fight was getting weaker by the second.

“You fucking whore,” he growled as his grip grew impossibly tighter, ignoring the fading struggle of the girl. “I should kill you for this.”

Harper couldn’t have been bothered to be scared at the familiar threat of her death as her focus was drowning out from everything. The blackness that was once at the corner of her vision was slowly clouding her captors face.

This is how I’ll die, she thought, as the pain in her constricted lungs became numb. Being strangled to death, all for accidentally dropping a vase.

Dark gave her one final glare before dropping her to the ground, standing over her coldly as she coughed and heaved in air soundlessly. She barely registered the few shards of china cutting into her skin, but of course Dark did. He crouched down, ignoring her tears and frantic breathing before taking a shard, and positioning it just above the skin of her palm. “I won’t kill you,” he said in a softer tone than before, but still dangerous. “But I will make you pay for this.”

The girl could barely manage a plea before her skin split open, insufferable pain evident by the red, dark blood flowing out of the opening and onto the floor. It wasn’t long before he took another shard, and pushed it into her thumb, pain amplifying as her fingers twitched on the ground.

It hurt, it hurt so fucking badly but she couldn’t scream. Her throat seemed as though it had been compressed so badly no sound could come out of her. Harper didn’t know which was worse; her inability to plead for mercy, or the never ending shards of broken china being inserted into her skin. She cried silently, never feeling as if she had enough air and worried that she may never speak again.

She didn’t know how long the impalement went on, but it seemed like her tormentor was satisfied when he got back up and left to go back to his office. Harper struggled to breathe; her lungs feeling as if she was breathing fire into them, her throat erupting into pain whenever she swallowed. She felt like she was laying on a bed of nails, every movement aggravating all of the little openings in her skin.

But once she finally got up to find a way to somehow heal herself, she noticed all of the shards were gone. Then she had an extreme urge to vomit as she realized the broken pieces of the vase were all wedged into her skin.

She passed out from pain not a minute later.

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lexibugsblog · 4 years

Text

Got Time For A Sinner

WARNING: NSFW

Got a little saucy with this one, hope you still enjoy ;D

What if you left with Arvin after the woods?

The autumn leaves church under my feet as the blue jays sing in the trees. As I stroll through the woods I see two crosses nailed to two trees. Arvin had only ever told me once about this place, but upon my request he left no detail out, so I knew I was close. As I walk through the branches, leaning into each other forming an archway of some kid, I see it, his father's church, then I see him.

“Arvin?” he was kneeling on the ground in a white shirt and his old blue jeans. I felt like I was seeing a ghost, as his head whirled around and he scrambled to his feet.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“I was passing through and I just- I guess I wanted to see where it all began for you, since I thought I'd seen the end of you...Where have you been?”

“I’m sorry.” he mutters on the verge of tears, as was I.

“You left me.” I state a little more harshly than I intended.

“I did what I had to do, for Lenora, you know I had to.” He came a little closer.

“I get why, It was the right thing to do, but it still hurt.” I finally looked up at him, as I bit my lip he took my hands in his, “Now they're saying you killed Sheriff Less, sister and husband...I’m just...” I knew Arvin had a good reason for what he had done. Who knew what she was involved in, but the whole town knew how Lee covered for her time after time, her death shouldn't be any different.

“I know.” he places a soft kiss on my forehead as his hand cups my cheek, I place my hand over his, looking up at him once more, blinking away the tears in my eyes. Truth be told i didn't care what he had done, I was just happy to see him again. Before he could pull me in for an embrace we heard a twig snap behind us, we both stared at each other for a moment, then another, louder this time. Without warning Arvin grabs my arm, pulling me along with him to the ground behind a fallen tree a few yards for where we were. Footsteps get louder and louder until, “Arvin Russel!” Sheriff Lee yells. “I know you're down there somewhere” Arvin peaks up above the tree to see if he could pinpoint where Lee was and more importantly if we could escape, “Sheriff Bodecker son! Got a couple questions for you!”

Ruling out an escape Arvin peaks over the tree once more, Lee sounded pissed but would he really hurt Arvin or I? We hear a bird, followed by the echoing sound of a gunshot causing both Arvin and I to jump. I look at Arvin wide eyed, “Sorry bout that! God damn bird scared me!” Lee yells sounding out of breath, “I ain't here to hurt you!” Arvin pulls out his gun, struggling to load it, “And I know you don't wanna hurt me! Come on out so we can have a talk!” Arvin finally gets the magazine loaded, and the gun cocked, “Okay” he whispers, he lays back closing his eyes for a moment to get his bearings.

“I figured this might be where you'd come!” Lee shouts as he arrives at where we were standing just moments ago. “Remember that night you brought me up here!” Arvin nods at a branch next to me, understanding what he wanted me to do, I grab the stick and hand it to him. “That was an awful thing your daddy did.” Arvin throws the stick into the brush away from us, the sound of the stick clattering followed by the sound of another gunshot. “God dammit boy don’t-don’t fuck with me!” I swallowed a lump in my throat as Lee ran towards where Arvin had thrown the stick. Arvin looks over at me, taking short breaths in and out, I shake my head, my eyes pleading with him not to speak, it’d only give away our location.

“Put the gun down Sheriff, I got one pointed right at you!” I sign inwardly, trusting in Arvin.

“Can’t do that, son!”

“Just set it on the ground and step away!” Arvin begged.

“What?” Lee prompts, and Arvin repeats himself, yelling even louder this time, I could hear him closing in on us.

“So you can kill me like you did my sister and that preacher in West Virginia?” Arvin closes his eyes, his breath shaking as he responds, “I’m not a bad person, Sheriff.” my heart ached for him in that moment, “That preacher weren’t no good! He hurt my sister so bad she killed herself, Sheriff.” My mind flooded with images of the day of Lenora’s funeral, or aunt Emma clinging to Arvin and uncle Earskill becoming a shell of a man. Once the funeral was over Arvin drove me home, trying to remain strong for me too as I cried inconsolably in the passenger seat. “I had no choice!” I remember reading the note Arvin left me, I knew what he was going to do, hell maybe I could have stopped him, but in truth I didn't want to. I wanted the preacher dead for what he had done to Lenora and I knew that Arvin had to be the one to do it.

It was Then we see Lee approaching us, Arvin trains his gun on him as Lee sneaks behind a tree, “I hate to be the one to tell you this, Sheriff, but your sister..and her husband, they weren't no good neither! I got a snapshot in my pocket of her hugging on some dead guy!” I knew Lee's sister and her husband were odd but I did peg them as killers. “You let loose that gun and I'll show it to you!” Before Arvin can barely finish the sentence Lee runs from behind his tree charging at us, two gunshots ring out in the air. I scream, closing my eyes as Arvins body shields mine. I was never very religious but in that moment I prayed to every god I'd ever read about. Once silence fills the air again, I open my eyes as Arvin unshields me, I sit up, both of us scanning each other over for wounds but neither of us find any. Confused, but relieved we look up to see Lee lowering his gun, looking stunned, as he opens his arms wide, revealing the blood beginning to pool on his shirt. He stumbled back, falling to the ground. Arvin stands up lending me his hand as he does so. Once we're both on our feet , we climb over the tree hesitantly, I grab onto Arvin's arm as we cautiously make our way over to him.

I let go as Arvin makes his way over to Lee, who's gasping for air, as Arvin reaches in his belt throwing away his hand gun. Knelt beside him, Arvin pulls out the snapshot he mentioned moments ago, presenting it to Lee“I had no choice.” he says once more his voice strained, as he explains further, “They were going to kill me, I swear. I begged her to put the gun down.” Lee finally looks away from the picture and up at the trees, “I'm sorry.” Arvin states, as I place a hand on his shoulder. It seemed hours went by as we listened to the Sheriff fighting to stay alive. In reality it had only taken a few minutes, “We should go.” I warn, as the Sheriff takes his last breath.

Before we leave, Arvin plants the remaining evidence he had had on Lee’s sister on Lee himself, maybe once the body was found and both crimes investigated, maybe we could come back, but neither we wouldn't, even if we had wanted to, it would be too risky. As we walk over to gather his things, Arvin takes the gun, placing it with the bones of his childhood beloved dog, this was a new chapter for us both, a chance to put everything behind us.

We both rush back to my car, Arvin goes to throw his things in the truck, noticing my bags were already present. He shoots me a questioning look, “Like I said, I was passing through.” I explain, before hopping in the driver's seat. Not long into the drive, Arvin had already passed out in the passenger seat. As the hours ticked by the night drew in, I decided to pull into a motel and grab us a room. Once the room was paid for and I had gotten the keys, I walked back to the car, where Arvin was still sleeping. I gently rap on the window, with the keys waking him. He startles awake, relaxing only once he realizes it’s me. He opens the car door with a large yawn, closing it behind him as he helps me grab the bags from the trunk.

We both drudge up to our room. I flick on the lights illuminating the uniform room. I had always hated motels, they always seemed so impersonal for something that is meant to make people feel at home, but we both needed a shower and a place to rest our head for the night.

“I’m going to grab a shower,” I inform Arvin as I set my bags on the stiff bed. I undress as the steam from the shower fills the room, I test the temperature of the water before jumping in. Another reason I had always hated motels, terrible water pressure, granted this time, I was happy to just be under the water, ready to wash away the events of today. I close my eyes running my hands through my hair as I hear the curtain being pulled open. I could feel his presence behind me, before he took my hair, pulling it all to one side over my shoulder. Pressing soft kisses along my neck as he does so.

“Got time for a sinner?” he asks in a tired, husky voice.

“Always.” his hands fall over my body, down to my hips, as his kisses trail over my shoulder and down my back. I sigh into him, as his hands snake forward finding my folds, wasting no time finding my clit with his thumb as his other two fingers find their way into me, curling to hit my spot. “Arvin,” I moan, reaching back for him to steady myself as his other hand finds my neck squeezing softly as he places a more fiery kiss against my skin, the water pelting down, making me even hotter. “Christ” I mutter as he picks up his pace, my hips involuntarily moving to meet his pace. “I'm really sorry for leaving.” He whispers into my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “It’s-fuck!” I pant, as I feel a familiar coil in my stomach as he begins rubbing my clit once more, pumping his fingers in and out faster, coxing out an orgasm, I let out a loud moan, as I come hard on his fingers. His fingers then slow helping me ride out my orgasm, before leaving me completely. Once I catch my breath I turn to him, I stare into his lust blown eyes, “Promise you won't leave again.” I demand.

“I promise,” and with that I finished my shower and dried off. Arvin finishes before me so when I finally finish I pull on my silk bathrobe he must have brought in with him earlier. As I exit the bathroom I find him sitting on the edge bed, his head in his hands. As I walk over to him, he lifts his head, his hands go to my waist as he places his head to my stomach. I run my hands through his soft hair, placing a kiss on the top of his head, before tilting his chin up to look at me. His eyes swimming with remorse, “I forgive you.” I say as I place a chaste kiss on his forehead. When I pull back, we both stare at each other for a moment, my fingertips tracing his lips. He places a kiss on my thumb as he pulls me to his lap, both my legs landing on either side of him. My fingers find their way into his hair as he places a gentle kiss on my lips, as if testing the boundaries he pulls away but just barely. “I love you.” he whispers. A smile forms on my lips, as I look into his chocolate eyes, “I love you too.” I reaffirm, his lips find mine again, this time the kiss was deeper, harder, as he pulls me as close to him as possible.

His tough slips into my mouth, my brain lighting up at the familiar taste. I finally pull away to catch my breath, as I do his hands begin untying the belt of my robe as his lips trail down my neck and chest. My eyes flutter shut at the sensation, finally his lips meet mine again. I begin to fumble with his belt before untucking his shirt. We break the kiss once more, so Arvin can finish ridding himself of his shirt and pants. Once he finishes he pulls me to him once more, his fingers gliding over my skin as he pushes the robe off my shoulders and onto the ground. I pull him to the bed with me. His lips trail up my neck until they find my lips as he slides between my hips, hovering above me. I wrap my legs around his waist as he reaches between us, probing my entrance, before slowly pushing his length inside me, his forehead resting against mine as I gasp at the feeling of him inside me. “Are you okay?” he asks

“Yeah, I want this, I want you” I reassure him, then without hesitation Arvin begins thrusting. As he increased the pace even more he raised his head, looking down on me affectionately, “You're so beautiful.” he grunts, his body blanketing mine. His hands sliding under my ass, as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. I wrap my arms around his neck, meeting his thrusts, the sound of our bodies colliding filling the room, “Oh, God!”

“Are you close?”I nearly came just at the sight of him, beads of perspiration and water trickled onto me from his hair. I knew Arvin could tell I was close by the way his thrusting slowed but he went deeper, all the while whispering how badly he wanted me. Suddenly my pelvic area began pulsating and contracting, “Yes!” I yelled out almost pornographically as I rode out my orgasm. His lips crashed to mine, kissing me like I was his only source of oxygen. When he finally pulled away he was dragging his tongue against mine before biting my bottom lip, as I continued moaning he pressed his lips to my neck.

“Shit!” Arvin grunted as if gasping for air.

I felt him cumming inside me. The heat spread as he muttered how much he loved me. “Was that okay?” He checks in, slowing his movements, brushing a strand of hair from my face. I nod my head as he allowed me to ride out the orgasm at my own pace while biting my neck. “If you ever try to leave again, I'll kill you myself.” I swear to him causing him to smile against my skin. Once he finally pulled out of me the cold air prickled at my skin, however it wasn't long before he pulled me to his chest, my leg slung over his waist. He gently pulls the covers up over me, while rubbing my back. “By the way,” I start and he raises an eyebrow at me, “Everything you did, was for the right reasons, and for what it's worth I think that makes you a good person, or at the very least not a bad one.” Arvin has a big heart, i don't know if he will ever be able to forgive himself for what he'd done, even if he'd been told it was right a thousand times, but ill be damned if I wasn't going to try, He places a kiss on my hand, then placing it back on his chest, laying in silence until we both drift off to sleep.

#the devil all the time #Arvin Russell #arvin russel x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #arvin russel smut #arvin russel imagine

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davidpastrsnack · 4 years

Text

drive (pt. 1) - matthew tkachuk

a/n: slow burn friends to lovers is my shit and so is matthew so here we are. the name is inspired by the song drive by halsey, a classic friends to lovers anthem. i hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you think!

After three months of freedom with you friends and family, the summer was finally coming to an end. To celebrate, you and your close group decided to rent a house on the lake for the weekend, clear of all parents and responsibility. When Friday morning rolled around you finished packing your bag before heading off with your two partners in crime, Matthew and Brady.

You grew up in St. Louis, quickly becoming acquainted with the Tkachuk family when your dad accepted a position within the Blues management with Keith. For as long as you could remember, they were your best friends, but especially Matthew. He was the closest in age to you and since day one you were inseparable.

There was no denying that his move to Calgary took a toll on your relationship. You texted every now and then, but it was obvious that you had two seperate lives that the other wasn’t a part of. But despite this, every summer it was like you were still those twelve year olds running around as if nothing had changed.. Except now you two got into a lot more trouble together.

Matthew was driving and you sat in the passenger seat, always forcing Brady in the back for as long as you could remember. They were bickering about Matthew’s choice of music and you started to zone out, getting lost in the scenery as you traveled further and further from the city.

The reality of summer ending was starting to hit you. You had graduated college just a few months ago, yet nothing career wise seemed to be panning out. Your parents reminded you not to worry, that you could stay with them until something came together, but it made hearing all your friends’ plans for the year that much harder. You were over the moon for them, but each time it felt like a reminder of your failure.

You were suddenly pulled out of your trance by the pest in the backseat, feeling him poke your shoulder repeatedly.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N,” Brady joked.

“Sorry,” you shook your head. “What?” you asked, turning to face the blonde.

“Can you go on aux? I can’t listen to his shit any longer.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes as you connected to the bluetooth in Matthew’s far too expensive car.

“Will you relax?” Matthew muttered to you. “You promised me you wouldn’t stress about anything this weekend,” he pleaded, placing his free hand just above your bare knee.

“How long have you known me? Seriously, when am I not stressing?” you retorted, raising your gaze to meet with his ice blue eyes.

“Fair enough,” he chuckled. “But just try, please.”

“You two are something,” you heard from the backseat, shifting to glare at Brady.

Just like that, Matthew’s hand slipped from it’s post on your leg, moving to turn up the music to shut up his brother.

-----

After finally arriving at the lake later that evening, you all decided to go out to the local bar, a classic, dingy spot that always seemed to make the best memories. You were sharing a room with your close friend Emma, right across the hall from the boys. You got ready with the other girls, opting for a simple outfit of jeans, a white top, and sneakers. The air was hot and thick as soon as you walked in, and you moved straight to get a drink.

Hours later, everyone was having a great time, letting loose for one last weekend before reality struck. You had just enough alcohol running through your veins for a fun buzz, but you weren’t too far gone yet. You and Emma were dancing, totally lost in the beat of the music when your face suddenly dropped.

There was no way.

But unfortunately your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you. Your ex-boyfriend had just walked in with his posse, catching your glance right away and sending you a sick smirk. You hadn’t seen Logan in over a year, but of course here he was the night you were finally able to relax with your friends. Your buzz seemingly disappeared instantly, and you left the girls to go sit at the booth with the guys. You slid in next to Matthew, his arm instinctually wrapping around your shoulders as he kept listening to the conversation.

It didn’t take long for him to figure out that something was off with you, he could feel the tension in your body beneath his grasp.

He lowered his head to be level with your ear, “You good?”

You didn’t want to tell him what was wrong, knowing he would have no restraint. To put it simply, Matthew never liked Logan, but especially not after what he put you through during the breakup.

You nodded, giving him a soft smile. “I just need another drink,” you deflected, slipping from under his arm to get up.

“Wait,” he grabbed your wrist, “I’ll come.”

He didn’t know what was going on, but he had a gut feeling that he shouldn’t let you go alone.

And he was right. As soon as you guys made it to the bar Matthew locked eyes with Logan.

“Y/N, is that…” he trailed off, not wanting to freak you out.

You turned to look where he was, sighing as you saw Logan standing across from you two.

“Yup, it is,” you said, letting out a nervous laugh.

Matthew’s energy shifted immediately, exactly how it does when he’s on the ice. His light eyes darkened and he visibly stood taller, glaring in Logan’s direction.

“Matthew,” you warned. “It’s fine. Just leave it alone. Please,” you begged, wrapping your hand around his bicep in hopes of calming him down. You didn’t want anyone to make a scene, and you knew that’s exactly what would happen if the two of them got any closer to each other.

Just like you thought, your touch made him snap out of his trance, looking back down at you.

“Fine, but if he comes any closer I make no promises,” he declared.

After getting your drinks the two of you stayed put, listening to Matthew ramble about the upcoming season. Logan hadn’t moved, but your back was turned to him so you couldn’t see.

But Matthew could, and he most definitely noticed that he seemed to be inching closer to you, his destination obvious.

The gears in Matthew’s mind started moving right away. He needed to get him away from you but he knew you would kill him if he made a big deal about it.

You were mid-sentence when he panicked.

“Kiss me,” he interrupted.

You were stunned, the shock evident on your face. “What-”

Before you could get another word out, Matthew was grabbing your face and bringing your lips to his. Despite being beyond startled and confused, your body took over and you melted into him. Your lips moved together like they were made for each other, his tongue working perfectly with yours. Your hands moved up his chest and circled around his neck, gently tugging his curls. One of his much bigger hands dropped to your waist, urging you to arch into him.

Matthew was so lost in the moment that he forgot why he kissed you in the first place. He just couldn’t seem to pull himself away, a fire ignited deep within him by your touch. But finally he slowed his lips, gently separating from you and lifting his eyes to scan the bar. It worked, Logan was sitting on a stool with his back facing you both. Message received, loud and clear.

You slipped your hands from his neck, quietly trying to catch your breath as Matthew leaned over your shoulder. After a few seconds he looked back down at you, a cocky, but sweet, smile on his face. It took everything within you not to stare at his lips, pink and swollen, but you quickly snapped out of it when it hit you what had just happened.

You hit his chest, making him stumble back slightly, not expecting it.

“What the hell was that?” you questioned. It wasn’t that you were angry, but now you were forced to confront your feelings for the man in front of you. You obviously weren’t blind to his looks and charm, but you had always admired them from afar, never challenging your status as friend. And you were truly at peace with that, but now that you had a taste of him you wanted more.

His face was laced with nerves, realizing he might have really crossed the line. But then again, you didn’t seem to mind.

“I’m sorry, I-, Logan looked like he was coming over and I didn’t want him to but you didn’t want me to make a scene so I thought if I kissed you he would leave you alone,” his word vomit was in full force, letting everything out in one breath. “I think it worked though.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you, I guess,” you laughed.

And just like that, Matthew was back to his usual self.

“Trust me, no problem,” he winked with his classic smirk on, grabbing your arm to guide you back to the booth.

You rolled your eyes at him, grateful that he couldn’t see your blush. Now you were just hoping that no one saw. The last thing you wanted to do was have to explain that to anyone.

Nearly an hour later you were standing outside the bathroom waiting for Emma to come out. As much as you tried to act normal with Matthew, you were struggling to say the least. Any feelings you previously had were now infinitely amplified and it made him leaving again that much harder, not that anything would happen if he wasn’t leaving.

You were scrolling through Instagram as you waited when you saw the silhouette of a big body heading towards you. You assumed it was Matthew, but you were horribly wrong, looking up to lock eyes with Logan.

“Well hello there, Y/N,” he slurred. Of course, he was beyond drunk.

“Logan, leave me alone. Please,” you pleaded, head glancing at the door wondering what was taking Emma so long.

“Relax, I just want to catch up a little.”

You didn’t respond, rather you went back on your phone, hoping he would just walk away if you ignored him.

“So, you’re finally fucking that asshole Tkachuk, huh?”

Your heart sank at his words, but the anger quickly followed.

“Excuse me?” you were genuinely stunned at how bold he was being. “Who I’m fucking is absolutely none of your business,” you hissed.

Just as you went to enter the bathroom in search of refuge from his harassment, another body joined you, but this time it was one you welcomed.

Brady headed towards you the second he caught eye of the situation, making it just in time to hear Logan’s words.

“Everything okay over here?” He challenged Logan. He pulled you into his side, his arm snaking around your shoulders. He might have been younger, but he towered over both of you.

“Who the fuck are you?” Logan asked, puffing his chest out. You rolled your eyes at his actions, not understanding how someone could be so dumb to mess with these two.

“I’m the asshole’s brother,” he calmly responded.

You had to stifle your laughter at his comment, turning to hide your face in the crook of his arm.

At that Logan gave up, storming off back into the crowd.

“Thanks, Brades,” you smiled up at him, giving his torso a squeeze before letting go and leaning against the wall.

“Of course. But I have to ask, are you fucking the asshole?” He raised his brows at you, a silent way of saying ‘don’t lie to me.’

“What? Are you crazy?” You exclaimed, trying to deflect as quickly as possible.

“Y/N,” he warned.

“No. We are not fucking. Jesus, Brady.”

“Alright, but you two need to figure your shit out,” he murmured.

Before you could give him your rebuttal the door swung open and Emma emerged.

“Hey!” You yelled, grateful for the distraction.

You grabbed her hand, walking side by side towards the door to head home. Brady trailed behind you and you knew you needed to say something to him before you were back with the group.

You turned your head back to face him, “There is no shit to figure out. Drop it,” you snapped.

He threw his hands up, acting like he was totally innocent. But even though you and Matthew were clueless, Brady knew it was only a matter of time before you two came to your senses.

-----

The next day was spent on the boat with the music blasting and the alcohol flowing. Despite everything within him telling him to stop, Matthew couldn’t help but stare at you in that bikini. He prayed that his sunglasses hid the way his eyes dragged over your frame every chance he got. It felt dirty to look at you like that, but last night was like a slap in the face, awakening him to how far gone he truly was for you.

The day ended with a bonfire back at the house, everyone cozying up around the pit reminiscing on another summer together. You were laughing at someone's story and once again, Matthew’s eyes betrayed him. He was in the chair next to yours, so enthralled in watching you so happy. You had been so stressed out about graduation and finding a job that you deserved a weekend of freedom.

He couldn’t help but notice how you started to shiver as the sun went down, only wearing your still-damp bikini and a pair of shorts. He moved to get up to grab you something, but you stopped him.

“Matty? Where are you going?”

His knees almost gave out at the nickname. You had called him that ever since you were kids, but everything had a new meaning now that his feelings were all he could think of.

“I’ll be right back,” he assured.

You nodded, joining back into the conversation. It was dumb, but you already missed having him there.

He was back within minutes, handing you one of his sweatshirts. You thanked him, pulling the soft material over your head, taking your time so you could hide the blush that you knew covered your cheeks. It smelled just like him, and you had a feeling that he wasn’t going to be getting it back anytime soon. His gaze lingered over his name and number on your shoulder, noting how good they looked on you.

As it got later and later, people started going up to their rooms, eventually leaving just you and Matthew alone.

“Come here,” he quietly gestured towards himself.

“I’m right here,” you laughed.

“And you’re also freezing. So come here,” he repeated.

You couldn’t deny that you were still cold, your bare legs not helping much. You slowly stood up, walking to his chair. He moved his arms from his lap so you could sit down, your body resting across his thighs. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him, and you already felt yourself warm up from the heat he was radiating.

You sat in a comfortable silence for a while, your head lying on his shoulder as you both watched the fire die out.

“You’re gonna think I’m crazy, but hear me out,” he mumbled, finally breaking the silence.

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, “What are you up to now?”

“Come to Calgary with me.”

part two here

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #nhl imagine #nhl writing #hockey imagine #hockey writing #my writing

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ourloveisforthelovely · 3 years

Text

Princess Part 3

Harry Potter Marauders Era

Link to Part 2

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Rating: M

_____

Over the next few weeks, as you suspected, you didn’t have much time with Regulus. He was always busy with something else. Whether it be his death eater business, quidditch, or whatever he had going on with his friends...you falling into second place. Sure, the two of you saw each other every day in classes and meal times but that wasn’t the “time” that you wanted.

“Don’t feel so bad, Y/n. I am not seeing a lot of Evan either.”

Emma said, trying to sound comforting but it was nothing of the sort. You never wanted a relationship like Emma and Evan. They seemed to be more about showing off than coming across as lovers.

“That’s easier said than done, Emma.”

What Regulus didn’t know was Alexander was using his absence to turn on his flirting game. Alexander was flirting with you every chance that he got. It didn’t matter how many times you told him to bugger off, Alexander was always there. He was always waiting for Regulus to disappear.

“You need to tell Regulus.”

Emma said, one morning over breakfast. Regulus had already left for a morning quidditch practice and Evan had wandered off to make some first year’s life miserable. You looked up from the tea that you had been absentmindedly stirring since Alexander finally got the hint and left. It took you practically yelling at him and Emma telling him to “live in fear” before he checked out.

“And watch Regulus and my cousin get in trouble for basing Alexander’s face in? Besides, Regulus has enough on him right now.”

Emma’s eyes narrowed.

“He is still your fiancé.”

You shrugged.

“Fiancé or not. He doesn’t have time for me right now.”

That afternoon, you sat in the library waiting for Regulus to show up. Today was date day. Neither of you had any afternoon classes and it would be the first time that the two of you had been alone together since the first day of school.

“Come on, Regulus, don’t let me down.”

You muttered, looking down at your watch. Another 20 minutes passed with no sign of Regulus. You finally got annoyed and gathered your books to head back to the Slytherin common room. If Regulus turned up then he could sit there and wonder why you weren’t showing up.

The moment that you stepped out of the library, Regulus and Evan turned the corner laughing about something. Regulus froze the moment that his eyes met your displeased one. Merlin, he forgot about your date.

“Y/n, wait.”

He called out after you as you turned in the opposite direction. Regulus bid Evan a farewell before taking off after you.

“Y/n!”

You didn’t stop until his hand finally wrapped around your wrist.

“Are you deaf?”

You shook your head.

“What do you want, Regulus?”

His frown intensified.

“You’re mad at me, Y/n. I get it.”

“Oh, look you remember who I am. Very good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have studying to do.”

Regulus didn’t move to let go of your hand. He wasn’t a fool. Regulus knew exactly why you were mad at him and you had every right to be. He hadn’t been the best fiance in the world over the past few weeks.

“I’m sorry. I just got hung up with….”

“With Evan. I know. I saw. Our date was supposed to happen an hour ago. Me, like a fool, waited for you...as always. I’m not waiting anymore. Go have your fun with Evan and leave me out of it.”

You didn’t wait for Regulus to reply before continuing your journey back to the Slytherin common room. When Regulus didn’t chase after you to voice his dissatisfaction with your comment; you were surprised. Normally, Regulus was not a “walking away” type of person.

Both Evan and Emma looked up when you stormed into the common room. Evan glanced down at his watch.

“That was a fast date. You two are getting quicker.”

You rolled your eyes.

“That’s because the date didn’t happen.”

Evan frowned.

“Where is Reg?”

You shrugged and headed for the girl’s dormitory.

“I don’t know and I don’t care either.”

The next morning was the first quidditch match. You were praying that Slytherin would stomp Ravenclaw’s butt. Watching Alexander be miserable because his superb seeker skills not being as good as he believed would be wonderful to see.

You hadn’t seen Regulus since your little tiff earlier the previous day. He didn’t come to find you nor did you go to dinner. If you had gone to dinner, Regulus probably would have just ignored you. That was how he handled any argument that wasn’t his “fault” (in his mind). Regulus would ignore you until you were pleading with him to speak to you.

That isn’t happening this time.

You thought. As much as you wanted to speak to your lover, Regulus needed to see that you were deserving of his time. If he wanted you to be his wife then you couldn't always come second.

“Hey, you came!”

Evan shouted as you plopped down beside him. You nodded, rolling your eyes.

“Whether I am made at Regulus or not, I promised him that I would come. I also want to see Alexander two names have his ass handed to him.”

Evan smirked.

“Is he still giving you grief?”

“He hasn’t stopped.”

Emma said from her place on Evan’s other side. Evan frowned.

“I’ll deal with him later.”

You shook your head.

“Just drop it, Evan.”

You were thankful that the match had started so Evan had to drop the conversation. Evan would probably bring it up later to Regulus (if not the moment after the match ended). If Alexander turned up in the great hall with cuts and bruises all over him, you wouldn’t be surprised!

The match ended up being a lot more “personal” than you cared to admit. Alexander was looking for any excuse to run into Regulus. In return, Regulus had kicked the other boy off of his broom a few times. It was clearly evident that both team’s seeker was out for the other’s blood.

“Hope the little git breaks his arm.”

Evan said with a smirk as Regulus knocked Alexander off of his broom for the fourth time. The moment that Alexander hit the ground, he took his wand out and aimed a hex at Regulus as he caught the golden snitch. Luckily, Regulus knew what the other boy was doing and moved in time. That didn’t mean, however, Alexander was off injury-free. Regulus was off of his broom the second he could touch the ground and after Alexander.

You watched with an open mouth as Alexander made a mad dash to get away from Regulus. When Regulus punched Alexander in the face, he hit the ground hard. Alexander sat quietly for a moment as he recovered from the impact. After a moment, he jumped back up and made a dash for Regulus and latched onto his left arm clearly trying to pull as hard as he could.

There was a moment where Regulus’ sleeve pulled up and Alexander clearly saw the dark mark on the other boy’s arm. You knew exactly what was happening as Alexander slowly dared to meet Regulus’ face. Regulus raised an eyebrow and punched Alexander again.

“That is enough! Both of you, detention! 50 points from Ravenclaw and Slytherin!”

Madame Hooch yelled as she stormed across the pitch to yank both boys apart. She didn’t care if Regulus and Alexander were both bigger than her. After realizing that Alexander’s nose was definitely broken and pouring blood, Madame Hooch turned back to Regulus with a surprised expression.

“I don’t know what has gotten into you, Mr. Black but I suggest that you calm down while I take Mr. James to the hospital wing.”

Evan thought the whole thing was freaking hilarious. Your cousin was laughing like a damn hyena the whole way to the castle.

“I’m kind of jealous. Regulus got to give that little prick the most epic beat down in front of the whole school and I didn’t get one punch in.”

“Yeah, but at least you do not have detention.”

You replied. Evan shrugged.

“I would clean toilets for that.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I’ll see you two later, I’m going to wait for Regulus.”

You waited outside of the Slytherin locker room until Regulus walked out. He was clearly still seething as his eyes met yours.

“Come to fuss at me too?”

You shook your head.

“No, I wanted to see if you were okay.”

“Spectacular.”

Regulus muttered before going to walk past you.

“So that’s it? One word from you…”

“What do you want, Y/n?”

Regulus snapped. He didn’t care how sad your eyes looked. At the moment, Regulus was mad and didn’t want to fool with anyone.

“I guess nothing.”

You replied and went in the opposite direction. It wasn’t going to do you any good to try to talk to Regulus at the moment. You could offer to take your shirt off for him and he would probably be offended by the color of the bra that you were wearing. Nothing would make him happy right now.

When Regulus walked back into the common room, Evan grinned like a proud parent.

“That was brilliant! Wait, where is Y/n?”

Regulus shrugged and pointed over his shoulder.

“Probably down at the lake.”

Emma quickly decided to come in.

“She’ll be fine, Reg. Alexander got what he deserved for messing with her the way that he has. I am glad that you finally saw it.”

Regulus frowned. What was Emma talking about? You hadn’t mentioned anything about Alexander to him in the past few weeks.

“What are you talking about?”

He questioned as Evan and Emma exchanged confused expressions.

“You didn’t stomp Alexander because of how he has been trying to make the moves on your girl?”

“Well, no. I was beating his face in because he gets on my nerves but no I think I need to go visit him again.”

Emma nodded and sat back down by the fire.

“Yes, you do. He has been coming onto Y/n hot and heavy but you would know that if you had been paying her one ounce of attention.”

Regulus was silent for a moment before he turned and went out of the common room in search of you.

You had been sitting by the lake for a good half an hour before you heard footsteps in the leaves.

“Y/n?”

Regulus’ voice answered your internal question on who you were about to be dealing with. You didn’t look up right away.

“Yes?”

You finally replied as Regulus dropped to the ground beside you. Regulus quickly reached out and pulled you into his arms.

“What’s that fucker been doing to you?”

“Nothing.”

You half-whispered. The last thing that you really wanted to do was argue with Regulus. The two of you were doing enough as it was.

“Don’t lie to me. Emma and Evan told me everything.”

“Well, now you know.”

You said before carefully pulling out of Regulus’ arms.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He questioned, softly.

“Why do you care? You haven’t paid attention to me for weeks. I can handle my own problems and don’t need you to do a goddamned thing. I think we should take a break, Regulus. We need to take a break until you can decide just what you want me to be in your life. I am not going to be some woman that is kept in a large house and not paid attention to unless you want your dick sucked or my legs spread for you. I am not living Narcissa Malfoy’s life.”

You quickly took off your engagement ring and put it back in Regulus’ hand. Regulus was stunned as he quickly stood up to chase after you.

“Y/n! Princess, wait. Look, I’m sorry that I have been busy with...er...things. I was wrong to not focus on you. Please, I love you. We’ve been together since we were children.”

You shook your head.

“I said we are taking a break. I’m tired of being second.”

You pulled yourself from Regulus’ grasp and stormed to the castle as the thunder began to roll...

_______

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#regulus black #regulus x reader #timothee chalamet as regulus black #regulus black x reader #evan rosier #marauders era fic #harry potter marauders #regulus arcturus black #the rosier family #walburga black #orion black #druella rosier black #the ancient and noble house of black #death eater regulus #slytherin #princess #princess update

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comrade-meow · 3 years

Link

This is a transcript of a speech by developmental biologist Dr Emma Hilton delivered on 29 November 2020 for the ‘Feminist Academics Talk Back!’ meeting. This talk was originally published by womentalkback.org

Sex denialists have captured existing journals We are dealing with a new religion

Thank you for the invitation to speak today, as a feminist academic fighting back.

As ever, let’s begin with a story. And, trust me, by the end of this talk, you’re going to know a lot more about creationism that you expected:

1. In the 1920s, in concert with many other American states, the Tennessee House of Representatives passed the Butler Act, making it illegal for state public schools to: “teach any theory that denies the Story of the Divine Creation of man as taught in the Bible.” In other words, banning schools from teaching the theory of evolution.

Three months later, Tennessee science teacher John Scopes was on trial, charged with teaching the theory of evolution, a crime he was ultimately found guilty of. He was fined £71 – about £1064 in today’s money – so it could have been an expensive affair for him, had he not got off on a really boring administrative technicality.

Yet, despite the evidence against him and his own confession, he was an innocent man. Scopes was not guilty of teaching the theory of evolution. He admitted to a crime he had not committed. He even coached his students in their testimonies against him. So why would he admit to this wrongdoing of which he was entirely innocent? Why would he contrive apparent guilt? In protest. In protest against a law he viewed as fundamentally incompatible with the pursuit of scientific truth.

2. The history of creationism and education laws in the US is turbulent and often opaquely legalese, especially for those of us unfamiliar with US law. Some of the methods of the wider creationist movement, however, will be immediately recognisable as they are employed by a new movement, one which seeks to erase another scientific truth, the fact of sex.

Method 1. The framing of human classifications, whether it’s species or sex, as “arbitrary”. This leads to the premise that such phenomena are “social constructs” that need not exist if we chose to reject them. That truth must be relative and consensual. Never mind that these “arbitrary” classifications appear to be surprisingly similar classifications across all cultures and civilisations.

It also necessarily spotlights tricky boundary cases – not really a personal problem for the long-dead evolutionary missing links, but a very real problem in the modern world for people whose sex is atypical and who are constantly invoked, even fetishized, as “not males” or “not females” to prove sex classification is somehow no more than human whimsy.

People with DSDs have complex and often traumatic medical histories, perhaps struggling to understand their bodies, and they deserve more respect than to be casually and thoughtlessly used as a postemodernist “gotcha” by the very people so horribly triggered by a pronoun.

Method 2. The distortion of science and the development of sciencey language to create a veneer of academic rigour. Creationists invented “irreducible complexity” and “specified complexity” while Sex denialists try to beat people over the head with their dazzling arrays of “bimodal distributions arranged in n-dimensional space”.

Creationists, unable to publish in mainstream science journals because they weren’t producing, well, science, established their own journals. “Journals”. Sex denialists have captured existing journals – albeit limited to more newsy ones and to occasional editorials and blogs about gender (which is not sex), about how developmental biology is soooo complicated (which does not mean sex is complicated – I mean, the internal combustion engine is complicated but cars still fundamentally go forwards or backwards), about how discussing the biology of sex is mean (OK, good luck with that at your doctor’s surgery). Many such blogs and articles are written by scientists who simultaneously deny sex to their social media audience while writing academic papers about how female fruitflies make shells for their eggs (no matter how queer they are), about the development of ovaries or testes in fish and about how males make sperm.

The current editor-in-chief at Nature, the first female to hold this position, studied sex determination in worms for her PhD, and she now presides over a journal with an editorial policy to insert disclaimers about the binary nature of sex into spotlight features about research on, for example, different death rates in male and female cystic fibrosis patients.

The authors of the studies are not prevaricating or handwaving about sex, but the editorial team is “bending the knee”. I used to research a genetic disorder that was male-lethal – that is, male human babies died early in gestation. I’d love to know if this disclaimer would be applied there.

Method 3. Debate strategies like The Gish Gallop. This method is named for Duane Gish, who is a prominent creationist. What it boils down to is: throw any old argument, regardless of its validity, in quick succession at your opponent and then claim any dismissal or missed response or even hesitation in response as a score for your side. In Twitter parlance, we know this as “sealioning”, in political propaganda as the “firehose of falsehood”, although Wikipedia also suggests that it is covered by the term “bullshit”. So, what about intersex people? what about this article? what about an XY person with a uterus? what about the fa’afafine? what about that article? look at this pretty picture. what about what about whataboutery what about clownfish? The aim is not to discuss or debate, it is to force submission from frustration or exhaustion.

Method 4. The reification of humans as separate from not just monkeys but the rest of the living world. The special pleading for special descriptions that frame humans as the chosen ones, such that the same process of making new individuals, common to humans and asparagus, an observation I chose because it seems superficially silly – it could have been spinach – requires its own description, one that accounts for gender identity.

3. In the Scopes trial, which saw discussion of whether Eve was actually created from Adam’s rib and ruminations on where Cain got his wife, Scopes was defended by a legal group who had begun scouting for a test case subject as soon as the Tennessee ban was enacted. This legal group claimed to advocate for:

“Freedom of speech for ideas from the most extreme left such as anarchists and socialists, to the most extreme right including the Ku Klux Klan, Henry Ford, and others who would now be considered more toward the Fascist end of the spectrum.”

The legal group so keen to defend the right to speak the truth, in this case a fundamental, observable scientific truth? The American Civil Liberties Union, a group whose modern day social media presence promotes nonsense like:

“The notion of biological sex was developed for the exclusive purpose of being weaponized against people.”

and

“Sex and gender are different words for the same thing [that is] a set of politically and socially contingent notions of embodied and expressed identity.”

and shares articles asserting that biological sex is rooted in white supremacy.

Since the Scopes case, the ACLU have fought against many US laws preventing, or at least compromising, the teaching of evolution. I cannot process the irony of a group of people historically and consistently prepared to robustly defend the truth of evolution while now denying one of the most important biological foundations of evolution.

4. How do we fight this current craze of sex denialism? A major blow for creationism teaching was delivered in 1986 while the US Supreme Court were considering a Louisiana state law requiring creationism to be taught alongside evolution. The Louisiana law was struck down, in part influenced by the expert opinions, submitted to the court, of scientists who put aside their individual and, as one of them has since described “often violent” differences on Theory X and Experiment Y, to present a unified defence of scientific truth over religious belief. 76 Nobel laureates, 17 state academies of science and a handful of scientific organisations all got behind this single cause, and made a very real change.

Support for creationism has slowly ebbed away and the US is in a much more sensible position these days, although I still meet the occasional student from a Southern state who didn’t learn about evolution until college.

Sadly, one of the Nobel laureates has highlighted how unusual this collective response was and that he could not imagine any other issue that would receive the same groundswell of community support. Although he forged his career listening out for the Big Bang, so maybe I need to go through the list and find the biologists.

Part of the problem petitioning biologists to speak out is not necessarily fear of being cancelled or whatever, but simple lack of awareness of the issue, or incredulity that it is being taken remotely seriously. I’ve been working on a legal document and was discussing with a colleague about my efforts to find a citation for the statement, “there are two sexes, male and female”. He laughed at the idea that this would require a citation, told me to check a textbook, then realised that this statement is so simple that it would not even be included in a textbook.

And he’s right. I can find chapters in textbooks and hundreds of academic papers dedicated to how males and females are made, how they develop, how they differ, yet very few that feel the need to preface any of this with the statement “There are two sexes, male and female”. It is apparently something that biologists do not think needs to be said.

But of course, I think they are wrong, and that we live in a time where it does need to be said, where some aspects of society are being restructured around a scientific untruth, and where females will suffer.

Without recognition of and language to describe our anatomy, and the experiences that stem from that anatomy, mostly uninvited, we can neither detect nor measure things like rates of violence against women, the medical experiences, the social experiences of women and girls.

And, as for creationism, the reality of sex perhaps needs to be said by those with scientific authority, in unambiguous terms. Otherwise, we are living in a society that tolerates nonsense like there is no such thing as male or female, that differences evident to our own eyes are not real, that anatomies readily observable and existing in monkey and man alike do not actually exist. I’m sure this last assertion has the full support of the creationist community. And perhaps, as for creationism, a true tipping point will be tested when it is our children being taught these scientific untruths, or worse, when it is illegal to say different.

5. At the end of his trial, the only words Scopes uttered in court were these:

“Your honor, I feel that I have been convicted of violating an unjust statute. I will continue in the future, as I have in the past, to oppose this law in any way I can. Any other action would be in violation of my ideal of academic freedom—that is, to teach the truth as guaranteed in our constitution, of personal and religious freedom.”

I do not exaggerate when I say we are dealing with a new type of religion, a new form of creationism and a new assault on scientific truth. I also do not exaggerate when I say it may take a high profile court case to rebalance the public discourse around sex. There is only so far letters and opinion articles can go.

Two things I predict: 1. It will not be defended by the ACLU, and 2. With the recent proposals on hate speech law, it will probably involve a Scottish John Scopes, who finds themself in front of a judge for the seditious crime of discussing the sex life of asparagus at their dinner table.

Dr Emma Hilton is a developmental biologist studying aspects of human genetic diseases, and her current research focuses on a congenital motor neurone disease affecting the genitourinary tract, and on respiratory dysfunction in cystic fibrosis. She teaches reproduction, genes, inheritance and genetic disorders. Emma has a special interest in fairness in female sports. A strong advocate for women and girls, Emma tweets as @FondofBeetles.

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