#they were two people but one was more active

[ttsukiimi]

˗ˏˋDOUBLE STUFFED ! ´ˎ˗

୨୧⋆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ Irritating neighbors are never a good thing. Then how come having both of them inside you feels so good?

୨୧⋆ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ gojo x reader x geto, smut (mdni), 3some, unprotected sx, doggy, oral (male receiving), multiple 0rgasms, slight dumbification, slight f!ngering, slight slapping, slight mean!satoru, both at once, fac!al, overstim, reader referred to as (princess, baby)

୨୧ ⋆ 𝐚/𝐧 ⎯  the pain I went thru to post this…

As a tired college student, a fair number of things annoyed you. Loud children and their negligent parents, unpleasant people, your English professor who seemed to give out a ton of homework each day. But nothing compared to how irritated you were by your neighbors.

Satoru and Suguru.

While most girls would kill to be within ten feet of their presence, let alone live by them, what they didn't know were how loud and uncaring they could be. And that included the way they brought a different girl to their apartment each day dressed in skimpy shorts and a tight crop top—they seemed to have a type.

Though, the real anger within you only began to boil as they went on with their daily cycle. You always found yourself wondering if it was really that good to have them screaming and moaning in such a way that you could hear them clearly from your room.

Not that you ever wanted to find out, of course.

And today was no different. You could hear the banging of the headboard, her moans and cries of please, the lewd smack of their bodies—how thin were these walls?

You sighed, closing your textbook shut, concluding your 'studying' for the day even though you hadn't really even done anything. You had promised to finally complain to them today about all the noise, and you were sure you were doing the whole complex a favor.

By the time the sounds ceased, your statement was complete. Sure, the two males may be obnoxious, but they were damn attractive. You made sure to rehearse your sentence several times before you stood at their door.

Knock, knock.

Suguru's head swiveled to the source of the tapping, thinking to himself if their fling had forgotten something. He looked at Satoru and the male only shrugged, mouthing an "I don't know" quietly to him.

Upon opening the door, his eyebrow quirked upwards in confusion. You were a pleasant surprise to him.

Yours sprang up in embarrassment as you weren't expecting him to be shirtless. You fiddled with your hands, gaze darting anywhere but the man in front of you.

Tilting his head, Suguru leaned against the doorway, and smiled in amusement. Everything about him was so compelling—his long, luscious black hair, how he towered over you, his built physique—you didn't realize you were gawking.

"Well?"

"T-The noise," you started, clearing your throat. "Could you keep it down?"

Satoru, stuffing his face with post-nut sweets, snickered in the background, and they both feigned ignorance. The man in front of you hummed and scratched his head playfully.

"I don't recall there being any noise,"

And, while you would have found this entertaining if you were one of their little toys, you weren't. Your arms crossed over your chest, inadvertently pushing your breasts up, and his eyes shamelessly drunk in the sight.

Suguru had always found you desirable, finding himself thinking about the girl next door, even while he was balls deep in some random. But he made sure to hide that, even from Satoru, his bestest friend.

“Look,” you sighed, rubbing your temple. “I need to study and your ‘activities’ keep distracting me. Just, please—“

“Study?” Suguru questioned, his gaze searing as he looked down at you. “Princess, from what I heard yesterday, you were doing more than studying.”

And that’s when it clicked. Your cheeks flushed with heat.

It’s true. Yesterday, you’d abandoned your studying for something more…rewarding. Your fingers were stuffed deep inside your cunt, pumping in and out, while you moaned at the sweet pleasure. Thinking now, maybe you were too loud.

Satoru suddenly appeared behind Suguru and pushed him aside. He was aiming to grab your arm to pull you in but his friend nudged him in the rib.

“You’ll scare her off, move.”

Suguru then looked at you, smiling a little. “How about a bet?”

You quipped at the idea.

“We have a little fun with you, and in return we promise to be quiet.”

How could you say no to such a promising deal?

But it was all we, we, we. There was no way you could take both of them at once.

However, as you found yourself under both men, their eyes filled with lust and desire, perhaps you could.

"Satoru," you whimpered, watching the white-haired man take his painfully hard cock out of his sweats and pump it.

He grinned at you, sliding the tip over your lips, smearing his pre all over your mouth. "Think you'd look better with cum all over that pretty face."

They had you on your knees, each taking either the front or back. Suguru teasingly glided his tip up and down your pussy while Satoru held you up by your hair, both men pushing themselves into you in tandem.

Behind you, Suguru sucked in a breath—one thrust into you had his mind fuzzy and had him yearning for more. You were even more addicting than he thought you would be.

Quickly, he found a pace, drilling his impressively sized cock in and out of your warmth. "Fuck," Satoru huffed, feeling how your throat constricted around him and you gagged, looking up at him with teary, pleading eyes.

He scoffed, cocky grin widening. "No breaks, princess."

It was like you could feel every vein lining him once he started to move, your jaw locking in order to accommodate the sheer girth and largeness, more tears pouring down your cheeks.

"Don't break her," Suguru chuckled, large hand taking hold of your hips to steady his, the impact of his thrusts multiplying tenfold. Each drive had you shrieking out in a delirious mix of pain and pleasure, not to mention the fact that both men were set on making you feel good.

"Can't promise that; her mouth's so fucking warm," Satoru murmured back, using his thumb to wipe away a blend of saliva and pre-cum from the corner of your lips. "Keep sucking like that 'n I might just have to keep you."

With each ram into you Suguru's balls smacked against your clit pleasurably, stimulating the nub of nerves in a way that made your vision blurry with stars. You choked on your moans, the sounds vibrating onto the cock in your mouth and sparking the feeling of his climax.

Satoru groaned and pulled out, twitching as hot spurts of his seed dripped onto your face, down your lips and onto your lolled tongue.

"Told you I could last longer."

"Oh, shut up. She hasn't even came yet Mr. 'I'll have her orgasm 5 times.'"

Guaranteed, Suguru could be a little absurd when making bets like this, but that was a promise he could keep.

Over the course of the next hours and so, the two men had you in multiple positions, ones you didn't even know exist nor could be executed. Your mind was blurry by then, fogged by the multiple highs they forced out of you and your poor cunt, though even then they made sure this position stuck in your mind.

This time, you'd be having both of them. Both at once—not one in one hole and one in the other—both.

Satoru kneeled by your left and Suguru by you right, both males with their cocks in hand. You lie there, hopeless, your breathing steady yet uneven at the same time.

Slowly, one entered, now doing so easily with how much they had stretched you out. Then, as slow as the first one, slid in the other. The feeling was so much—too much for such a fucked-out mind.

You couldn't even process who was doing what, just noticed a big hand around your neck, squeezing lightly. "Eyes open, baby." Suguru's soft voice sounded, a low hum that made your body shudder.

It was thrust after thrust, drive after drive of two huge cocks, now both at once. "Hng—can't! N-no more!" you mewled, gripping at the sheets, anything that would keep your sweat-sheened body from rising off the bed. Satoru grasped your hips in a bruising grip, one that would surely leave red blemished for days to come, and snarled, white hair sticking to his forehead.

"You'll take all of it. Only fucking done when we say so." Then came a hot slap to the side of your ass, the sound rippling throughout their apartment.

They stretched you to the hilt, a point where you never thought you'd reached. Your stomach churned in pleasure, body feeling weightless, and there it was—your fifth orgasm of the day.

With the green light of your own, the two men gritted their teeth as they were swept up in pleasure. So swept up that, they didn't even notice how their seed was pumping into your already battered cunny.

Though, once they came to, both men couldn’t care less, too indulged in the double stuffed sight in front of them.

#ꔫ : ˚ ͙۪۪̥◌⎯ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈’𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 #jjk fic #jjk smut #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x you #gojo x you #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #getou suguru x you #suguru geto smut #geto suguru smut #geto smut #jujutsu geto #geto x you #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #gojo satoru smut #geto suguru

[mewhenimanangel]

reporting live, paige bueckers

— synopsis. you meet paige when you’re assigned to report on the uconn v. iowa game.

notes ౨ৎ: i’ve never wrote for a real person before it feels so strange…but there’s like no fics on here i had to take matters into my own hands.

also yes im rewriting history to make uconn win!

you checked yourself out in the mirror, fixing your outfit - low rise black work pants with a white button down that showed a small sliver of your stomach with black sling back heels.

you tossed your hair around to fix it making sure it was in perfect shape. after all, your job was pretty dependent on looks.

you worked as a reporter for the city's top news agency and tonight you would be attending the uconn versus iowa women's basketball game.

you were also pretty active on social media and managed to make some money that way, you were more than grateful for your lifestyle.

you called your friend, devon , to make sure she was on her way to get you knowing you absolutely could not be late tonight.

she answered the phone and you sighed a breath of relief when it sounded like she was in fact on her way.

"hey girll, are you excited for tonight? pretty big story" she said, bustling city noise behind her.

"yeah i'm excited to interview uconn after they beat iowa's ass" you smirked when you heard her gasp on the other side. "they so will not! my girlfriend caitlin's gonna pull through"

"nah, paige buckets got that easily" you scoffed as you packed your bag, ready to head downstairs out of your apartment.

your bosses had assigned you to tonight's game and hooked you up with two court-side tickets for you and a guest, along with the camera crew.

you of course had to invite your best friend to go with you.

you stepped outside the building and watched as her car pulled up outside.

"ugh i can't believe i get to see caitlin clark up close" devon squealed as you got yourself situated in the car. "ugh be calm, you literally have a boyfriend." you joked. "okay and?" she laughed as she drove off.

once you were at the stadium, you and devon met at with your crew as you found your seats inside.

the game wasn't due to start for another fourty or so minutes but it was already packed inside.

you were glad women's basketball was finally getting the recognition it deserved after you and your mom had been fans of it almost your whole life. you even played a little bit in high school.

you and devon got snacks before sitting down and getting yourselves comfortable.

it didn't feel long until the players came out and the game was started. aliyah and hailey jump started the game before kk threw the ball back at paige.

the game was a close one and you made sure to follow it closely. throughout the game you did side interviews with other players and people attending the game, which was all just leading up to the end of game interviews.

it was the final quarter and you made sure to pay close attention.

it all came down to the last few seconds when paige threw the ball off caitlin's back to catch it again and land the ball in the net, giving uconn the winning score!

you and your crew sat up as you turned your reporter accent on "there you have it folks, uconn has won this round and will advance to the final game against south carolina. what an amazing job tonight by these wonderful ladies on both teams. win or lose, it was a great watch and i'm cheering for everyone's next move."

once you were sure the cameras were off you turned around to devon and threw your hands in the air.

"bitch i told you! i tolddd you paige had this game" you squealed. "ughhh you're so annoying why are you always right" she groaned.

a few minutes later you popped some mouthwash melts and fixed your makeup before you were to interview paige.

your hands were sweating like crazy. you never wanted to come off as an insane fan girl but you were obsessed with paige.

your cameraman followed you as you walked over to paige and she turned around. "hi" she smiled and shook your hand. "hi, are you ready?" you asked her. "yeah" she smiled. you gave your cameraman a thumbs up as he turned the camera on.

you turned to paige, who was already staring at you and you took a deep breath. you're usually never nervous to interview people but god the way she was looking at you.

her eyes were trained on yours and she had a little smirk on her face, her face was glistening from the tiring game she just played and she licked her lips waiting for you to ask your first question.

you cleared your throat "i'm here with paige bueckers, who just made the winning move in the highly anticipated iowa versus uconn game! tell me paige, how did it feel to take the winning shot?" you turned the microphone to her.

she rubbed her chin "ah it was really nerve racking to be honest i mean. i could feel my team counting on me and i knew i really had to pull through and get us out on top" she answered, eyes focusing back on you.

"yeah but that was a tough shot wasn't it?" you watched her eyes drop down to scan you before meeting yours again. "yeah but i knew i could make it in for sure"

"right, bueckers get buckets i don't know what to tell y'all" you joked to the camera. paige laughed.

"yeah for sure but i really owe it all to my team" she continued before kk came up behind her. "yupppppp WE GOING TO THE TITLE GAME" she threw her arms around you and paige and the threw of you jumped in excitement before running to find her other teammates.

you laughed it off before continuing for the camera "well there you have it, paige it was lovely to talk to you. congratulations on the winning game! make sure those of you at home tune in to the final game taking place in just a few days." you signed off the camera before your crew stopped filming.

you turned to paige and dropped the reporter voice. "it was nice to meet you by the way" you smiled. "i could say the same" her eyes never left yours and you bit your cheek to hide a smile.

"well i should let you go celebrate, congratulations, have a good night!" you said, beginning to walk away.

"bye it was nice to meet you" she said before you fully walked away.

you walked over to devon who was waiting on the side. "i know damn well your heart is racing"

"shut up" you smirked.

#nia writes ࿐ #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #paige buckets #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #nika muhl #kk arnold #bueckers get buckets

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

Sins Of The Father, Fuck The Daughter - Lewis Hamilton

Switching Team pt 3

Dark fic 18+ - if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS

Warnings/themes: Age gap, smut , coercion, manipulation, corruption/innocence kinks, gaslighting, parental intervention, baby trapping, revenge

@omgsuperstarg is being massively credited bc she has helped inspire so many ideas w this series so have to give a shout out.

One more part after this and then we're calling it on the series.

Another race weekend. Another endless train of clips seeing his very recently wrecked daughter dripping in red.

The whole world has noted that y/n always seems to have swollen lips, from whatever activity herself and Lewis were enjoying before arriving. Her red dresses practically uniform and this week came with an addition of all red Louboutins and a gust of wind did give some of the paddock a peak at what is better described as red string under her dress rather than anything that could be described as underwear

The media has tried it's best not to dwell too much on the matter but the transformation of the quiet and shy girl who seem to definite the innocence of wearing white has now been touched by Lewis and seems to be transformed. Hardly recognisable as the same person.

"Toto, we know that you have seemed to have lost two people to supporting red. How are you feeling about y/n's new relationship?" The reporter asks with a smile jumping at the opportunity to get Toto's opinion since everyone knows of his and Lewis' feud.

"I think I will have to console my daughter when she comes to her senses and sees Lewis is only corrupting her to hurt me. Which I think is quite poor form from someone like Lewis. Perhaps Fred can get his driver under control." Toto states making somewhat of a joke at the end, though even picks up on the tone and suggestion behind it.

"Fred?"

"I imagine Toto has more control over his daughter than I do over Lewis. It is my job to handle my drivers as drivers, not to monitor their personal lives." Fred shrugs earning a slight glare from the Mercedes team principal. "We are here to race."

"You should try reminding your driver of that when he's flaunting my daughter around like a possession." Toto grumbles earning a very obvious side eye from the Frenchman.

-

Y/n feels Lewis' hand clap over her mouth as his other hand pushes down on her stomach, forcing the bulge almost up into her other organs with the sensation of pain merging with pleasure and earning a muffled but still audible moan as she milks ever drop of cum from him.

Lewis has decided that he won't be fully satisfied about having successfully taken y/n from Toto until she's got his child. Though he might have to ease up on bruising her insides at that point, he's almost certain her tummy does actually have a small bruise from his dick.

Seeing her in all red actually brings out some primary instinct to fuck her till she's walking like the memory of his dick being in her is permanently there.

He'd had a conversation with Fred and then he saw the press conference and he decided that if Toto was so eager to see his daughter then he'd see it be done.

"That's a lot." Y/n mumbles commenting on the feeling of his cum flood out of her. "You want me to not wipe it?"

"No. We're going to see your dad."

"I really don't want to." Y/n mumbles then wincing when two fingers press into her before he removes them and raises his fingers to her races.

"Clean up." Lewis instructs making her look as his other hand squeezes her thigh in warning.

Y/n swallows before holding his hand to put his fingers in her mouth licking his fingers clean of the salty cum.

"Come on. We're going to see your dad and Susie."

"But-"

"Y/n." Lewis cuts in his short temper being a result of Toto's comments and the hurt expression on y/n's face makes him realise that he maybe needs to remember that she might be his daughter but she's an innocent in this matter. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, but we don't have time and you know I like-"

"I know. But I don't even want to speak to my dad...I don't understand why you're pushing for it." Y/n mumbles with a pout.

"Because he wants to see you and he's blaming me stopping you as the reason why you won't." Lewis states earning a small nod. "You don't have to speak to him for long."

"Can't you just do the talking?" Y/n sighs earning a small smile of amusement.

"You have to say something, but I'll talk to him as well." Lewis assures her while helping her stand up. "Good?"

"Yeah."

They walk through the paddock moving to the Mercedes unit where Toto is actually sitting outside with Susie and Jack.

Despite their relation, Jack doesn't know much of his sister. By the time he came alone she'd long since been left in isolation and the two are anything but close.

"Why don't you go find George, Jack?" Susie asks, not wanting to leave but also not feeling Jack should be involved in the conversation. Thankfully he rushes off eager to speak to George since he admires the lanky Brit a lot.

"Y/n, how have you been?" Toto asks as Lewis pulls out a chair for her and tucks it in. "I didn't know you had such a love for the colour red."

"Toto." Susie scolds as Lewis sits down looking fairly smug.

"I'm here because Lewis asked it of me, if you intend to be disrespectful we can leave." Y/n states crossing her arms and frowning at him. "I didn't ask for this you know."

"Well if Lewis would stop using you-"

"Enough, Toto." Susie cuts in sharply.

Y/n swallows since Susie has always defended her but it's complicated between them.

"Lewis, whether your intentions were motivated by revenge on Toto or genuine feelings for y/n. You clearly have made her happy and that is what is important." Susie smiles looking at y/n. "Are you happy?"

"Yes."

"Then that's all that matters." Susie assures her then linking her hand with Toto's. "Your dad won't be making anymore public comments about it."

Toto makes no verbal confirmation, too busy trying to stare Lewis down but the driver is unwavering.

"I'm glad we all had this talk, it's been important. Y/n and I have to go, things to do. Come on, y/n."

The two leave though Toto and Susie both notice the bodily fluid that's now leaked low enough to be visible and if you glimpse you'll spot it.

"He is doing it on purpose. He is trying to provoke a reaction-Susie, you cannot expect him to allow this." Toto hisses to his wife. "He treats her like property and with no respect. How can you be ok with it?"

"Y/n is an adult. We have to let her make her own mistakes to learn her own consequences." Susie sighs then smiling at him. "We can only hope the consequences don't come in a form that she regrets in the long term."

-

Y/n watches Lewis talking to his engineers, ready to get the car out onto the grid.

There's been an off feeling since her and Lewis left that very short and uncomfortable meeting with her parents. She appreciates Susie's efforts but it's fairly obvious where Toto's feelings lie and she didn't miss that Lewis was purposely sitting like the cat who got the cream. Quite literally.

"Y/n, good luck kiss?" Lewis smiles catching her attention and earning a smile. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, just thinking about earlier. It's...fine."

"Hey...don't let them ruin a good day. You look gorgeous, the race is going to be good and I want to see you afterwards with that gorgeous smile. All for me."

Y/n actually does genuinely smile over his words and when he leans in for a kiss it's fairly obvious his goal of perking her up was very successful. Something they're both very grateful for.

Watching the race y/n is so focused on Lewis she doesn't actually notice the cars around him, not till George appears and looks like he's trying to be the next torpedo driver as he tries a dive bomb and just completely smacks into Lewis, ripping through the right side of red sidepod and wrecking the floor.

"What the fuck?" Y/n whispers standing up as collective groans and yells of outrage shout through the garage.

That's race ending damage even if he wanted to continue.

They call for him to come in and he's pulled into the garage after trying to see if there's any chance of the car continuing but as suspected it's done for.

Lewis gets out being weighed before he takes a moment then sighs moving to his engineer. They spend a while watching replays, onboard, looking from different angles and he even moves back to the care talking to the mechanics as they inspect the damage which is severe.

"Are you ok?" Y/n mumbles making him look at her as he places his helmet down.

"You're never talking to your dad again." Lewis states earning a slightly shocked expression. It's one thing for her to be angry at.

Now George truly could've pulled that move of his own decision, he's the exact type of driver who would. Like an idiot. He got off lucky doing it.

"Y/n, I mean it." Lewis grumbles as a PR assistant appears telling him they need to get him to media. "I'll see you in the unit."

He then goes and spend the next half hour absolutely rinsing George calling him Toto's runner boy and directly making the accusation that the move was a matter of George being told to target Lewis and do anything to ruin is race. All because he's dating y/n.

-

Lewis made it clear.

He also used her as a bit of a cushion for frustration, she woke up this morning and decided she wouldn't be getting out of bed, although he did apologise for the sex that was about as rough as it's ever been. It's not as if she didn't enjoy herself. But the man certainly knows how to leave her feeling the effects of his dick the following day.

Luckily her is more than happy to do everything for her, he kisses her constantly and just holds her in cuddles, orders room service, gives her all his attention.

"You're the best thing in my life, you know that?" Lewis whispers gently pushing her hair back.

"You're the best thing in my life too."

"So...as an apology for the weekend-"

"You don't have to apologise." Y/n states quickly than moving over to straddle him. "I always love having sex with you."

"Do you?"

"Are you really going to make me prove it?" Y/n laughs earning a quick chuckle.

"No. You are in a rest day. Same as me. I think we're both owed it."

"Lewis...did it hurt?"

She knows that any impact in an F1 car can make the body ache but she really wants to know that Lewis is ok.

"It always hurts a little. But that one wasn't the worst." Lewis smiles then pulling her down to kiss her lightly. "You're sweet to ask, baby."

"Well so long as we can cuddle for the rest of the day, I think we're both resting enough."

"Agreed."

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #dark!lewis hamilton #dark lewis hamilton #dark f1 fic #dark!f1 #dark f1 #dark!fic #dark fic #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton #lh44 x y/n #lh44 one shot #lh44 x you #lh44 imagine #lh44 x reader #lh44 #sir lewis hamilton #f1 one shot #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 2024 #f1 imagine

[clockwayswrites]

*writes 800+ words of Another Red but not the part I'm supposed to*

Jason breathed in the heavy clove scented smoke, taking comfort in it. He didn’t smoke often anymore, but if Bruce and Alfred hadn’t gotten him to stop, he didn’t think he ever would. Somethings were just too much part of a person. The smoke swirled up into the night air, caught in the constant breeze a harbor city like Gotham had.

“You don’t have to do this kid, put yourself in danger like this.”

“No, I do,” Rabbit bit out. Jason was pretty sure if he could see the kid’s teeth, they would be bared in a feral smile. “What I can’t do is let people get hurt when I can go and help them.”

“Yeah, and what about your safety? You could die.”

Rabbit laughed like that was some sort of big joke and Jason felt himself bristling at the reaction. Jason knew how dangerous this was— more than anyone else in his family. He’d felt that fear and pain and—

“Yeah, well, Hood, sorta too late for that.”

Jason’s anger left him so suddenly that he felt cold in it’s absence. No—

“Do you know, it’s not the death itself that’s bad,” Rabbit drawled, almost lazily. He finally lit his gifted cigarette. He didn’t take his mask off, like Jason had hoped he would, but ducked his head down and pushed the mask up just enough to take a slow drag. He looked so small like that, hunched over on himself with the bright ember dangling from his fingertips. “The body stopping everything… it’s sorta of quiet. All those functions we don’t think about going on all the time— breath’n and blink’n and beat’n… it’s quite without all that going on. Nah, it’s not the actually dy’n that’s so bad, it’s the fear that comes with it.”

“Yeah.” The admission almost hurt Jason to choke out.

“Yeah,” Rabbit agreed. He took another drag from the cigarette. His free hand was curled over his head, likely to keep his face hidden from Jason, but it just made Rabbit look all the more like a scared kit. “And that fucking fear? That worst part? I live with that all the fucking time, Hood, so nah, I’m not so ‘fraid of dy’n‘gain.”

“At least let me help you avoid it,” Jason said. He didn’t mean to plead but fuck if he wasn’t.

Rabbit snorted and took one more drag before he snuffed out his cig and stood. “Yeah? And how do you plan to do that?”

All traces of the drawling accent was gone and that hint of Gotham was back in Rabbit’s voice.

Jason wondered which was more real.

He reached into his belt instead of pressing the matter— instead of pressing the accent or take on death or talking Rabbit out of this life. Jason knew in every shattered bone of his that it wouldn’t do any good. This life already had the kid by the neck and there was nothing to do about it. It would choke Rabbit out one way or another, just like the rest of them.

The red fob was innocuous against his glove, could hardly even see it in the dim, yellow light of th Narrows. Red on red on red—

“Take it.”

Rabbit didn’t.

“What is it?” he asked instead, leaning forward just a little.

“A panic button.”

Rabbit snorted and flicked the remains of the cigarette at Jason. “I’m not taking a fucking tracker.”

“It’s not a tracker until you activate it. You press and hold the button on each side for two seconds and only if you do that is it a tracker. I can’t activate it remotely on my end or anything,” Jason said. “It’s the same one I give some street kids and sex workers. There’s nothing special about it, it’s just a tracker.”

Rabbit watched Jason with an eerie stillness. “Swear it.”

“I swear, it’s just a panic button. It’s only a track if you turn it on.”

Rabbit still didn’t move. Jason sighed and started to pull his hand back before Rabbit darted forward and grabbed the panic button. The little fucker was quick.

“I won’t press it just for anything,” Rabbit said with a defiant jut of his chin.

“Wouldn’t expect you too,” Jason said with an honest, easy shrug.

Rabbit watched a moment longer before he pulled out a keyring without any keys and put the button in. It hung between a battered food shelter tag and a library barcode that Jason was sure was counterfeit.

“Yeah, whatever. Now go on and get, Hood. Don’t you have a whole city to look after?”

“Fucker,” Jason said fondly and stamped his own cigarette out before he tucked the butt away in a pouch slot. The small part of him that was still very much a Bat wanted to do the same with Rabbit’s so he could try and pull some DNA. Instead he flicked Rabbit off and leapt off the roof to the kid’s laughter.

#another red #dp x dc #batpham

[schemmentis]

La Cosa Nostra - Pt. 10

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

Cowritten w/ @janeyseymour

Summary: Barbara learns the truth and you spy someone unexpected talking with the Feds...

WC: 3.4k

Barbara Howard is still thinking about the fact she has this ledger, and Melissa does not want it back. The woman knows that she shouldn’t open it- not with the explicit instruction from her friend to not open it, but she feels the need to. Perhaps she could help to balance the checkbook and find where the issues are in the ledger.

So, with Gerald in the office and the girls nowhere around, the woman of God opens up the ledger. And when she sets her eyes upon it, she can’t help but gasp.

It isn’t what she expects to see- not in the slightest. No, instead there are a bunch of names that she’s heard were rumored to be connected to the Irish mob, and others that she knows she's heard her husband mentioned before in his work. Lo and behold- there is the Schemmenti name.

Barbara slams it shut. She should turn this over to the police immediately, and she nearly does. She’s actually in her car and about to pull out before she stops to think what this would mean for your family.

Turning this over means that you would end up in prison, potentially Melissa too if she has any ties to this side of the illegal business. It means that the girls would grow up without a mother figure, perhaps two- ending with those two sweet girls who Barbara absolutely adores in foster care and away from her. It means ripping a family apart that she absolutely adores, even if they do have a hand in what her husband actively roots against. She cannot do this to the Schemmenti family, she decides.

Without a second thought, she hides the ledger that she now knows the truth of in her glovebox. And then she pulls off out of the driveway and heads for church.

When she gets there, she slides into the back pew silently. Barbara is the only one there, no sermon taking place. But she needs the strength that God can give her, so she prays to God by herself.

“Dear Lord,” she whispers softly, head bowed down. “Please... please grant me the strength to carry what I am holding with me now. Please keep those beautiful little ones safe and out of harm’s way. Please... please keep those two, who you know I am speaking of, safe. Please... if not for the two of their sake, for their little girls. Lord, please. I am begging. I am here begging...  because even though they are wrapped up in shady business, they are good people. They are two wonderful women who would do anything for their little girls. And God, please... if something does happen to them, please do see to it that those two little ones are spared of the understanding and disparity of the world. Gerald and I will take them in if we have to. Just please, keep them safe, and keep them from this dark and depraved world that we live in- because they don’t deserve to grow up in this world without somebody, anybody who loves them for who they are.”

She slips out of the church with her eyes down, as if she doesn’t have something that could quite literally get her killed. The woman of God speeds back to her house and hides the ledger back where it once was. There is no way she can let anyone find out she has this- especially not her girls.

By the time you leave Mickey, you feel that you know what you have to do. You have to continue to fight for this- if not for yourself, than for your family- the family that is real and true. You feel the slightest bit better having been able to speak to Melissa’s brother, and as you drive through the countryside, you allow yourself to hum along to the music that plays softly through the speakers. You’re more at ease than you’ve been in the past few days.

When you pick up Melissa, you park the car in the lot and head in through the back. She looks so at ease now, in her element. She’s humming softly to herself as she and Val continue to prep for the dinner rush, and you can’t help but let your eyes go soft as you take in the beautiful sight and sounds.

You snake your arms around her waist and kiss her cheek and then behind her ear in that one spot that almost always makes her shiver. “Hi, my love.”

“Ciao, mi amore,” she whispers back to you as she craned her neck to kiss you gently. “How was your day?”

“Actually…” You start before pausing long enough to kiss her lips again before letting her return most of her focus to her prepwork. Your arms stay around her waist. “It was good.” 

“A quiet day around the house did you good, huh hun? I knew you'd relax eventually.”

You prop your chin on your wife's shoulder. “I went to see Mickey,” You admit softly. You watch your wife's hands as she works. You notice the small pause in their process when she hears what you've said before they keep moving.

“What'd you go all the way up there for?” She mutters as she chops a pepper with a bit more force than before. “‘S a long drive.”

“A drive I needed. It helped clear my head, I think. I'll make it up to you by staying home bored out of my skull tomorrow?” You say, attempting to joke as you squeeze her waist lightly.

Melissa is quiet for a long moment. You don't push her to speak her mind. Instead you let her think as she works, just enjoying being in the presence of your favorite person. You're about to pull away from being so in her space when she sets her knife down.

She turns in your arms, hands on your wrists to keep you from stepping away when she moves. “You coulda talked to me and helped clear your head. Instead you went all the way to the pen.” She sighs, lightly brushing stray hair away from your face. “It was that bad, hey? You needed my goofy ass brother's advice?”

“C'mon, you know it ain't like that, babe.”

“Then what's it like? Tell me.”

“We've both been stressed to hell ‘bout this. How was I gonna just…talk to you ‘bout it? Wring us both through it for the hundredth time?”

The fingers caressing your cheek slide down in order to grip your jaw. “I'm your wife.” Melissa reminds softly. “That's kind of my job, amore. Go through the wringer with you as many times as we need to. I meant it when I told you ‘for better or for worse’.” 

You smile at that, just a bit. You remember when you had first started seeing each other- how you both had your doubts and fears. You remember the day that the two of you decided to lay everything out on the table, weighing the pros and cons of intermingling your businesses and how it would affect both your personal and professional life. She had told you that day that she was in it if you were. You answered her with a passionate kiss. You also remember the day that the two of you were wed and your families were officially tied together- the way that as you both spoke those words in front of your families to witness, Melissa let go of her tough act, her voice wavering and eyes shining with tears, as she told you that the two of you would be together for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, til death did the two of you apart.

And you have seen each other through better and worse. You’ve seen her on the happiest of days- the day you found out you were pregnant, the day the girls were born, when they took their first steps, when she opened her restaurant. And you’ve seen her through the lowest of lows- the day her Nonna died, the day she finally cracked under all the pressure with opening Twelve Tables, how she’s had quite a few moments of doubt when it comes to raising the twins. You’ve seen each other through moments of wealth, as well through moments where you were living paycheck to paycheck and doing everything you could to make ends meet. You’ve both seen one another in sickness and in health- whether that be while you were suffering from terrible morning sickness during your pregnancy with Cat and Rosie, or when the two of you were taken down by the flu that the girls brought home from daycare. You’ve held each other through it all, loving and cherishing every waking and sleeping moment that you share together, and you fully plan on it until death does the two of you apart. 

Now though, the two of you aren’t sure when it will be that death parts you. For all you know, it could be tonight. And that… terrifies you beyond belief. Even before, when things in the business got rocky, it’s never been as bad as it is now. You’ve never been in as much danger. But now? Now you’re on the forefront of this operation, and you have the feds tailing you and presumably tracing your every move.

You sigh, Melissa's eyes on yours softening you as they always do- especially now with how relaxed you can see they are. She's not upset or angry, just trying to understand your choices and remind you she's here. 

She uses the fingers gripping your jaw to pull your face to her own so her lips can kiss yours. “Sono con te amore mio. Sempre.” Melissa whispers the reminder against your lips, her hand sliding away from your jaw to the back of your neck as she kisses you deeper this time.

The sound of someone clearing their throat loudly behind you in the room makes you pull back after a moment. You gently press your forehead to your wife's, not moving away further.

“Hey, Val.” You greet your wife's manager without looking.

“How many times am I gonna have to remind you the restaurant is off limits to foolin’ around?” She teases with a smile as she moves past both of you.

“That depends.” You say as you slowly pull away from Melissa, though not completely. Your hands are still on her hips, hers are still at the side of your neck and gently threading the fingers of her other hand through your hair. “How long you plannin’ on workin’ here?”

“As long as your wife lets me, Y/N. You know that.” Val tosses back easily.

“Then I guess you got at least a hundred or so more reminders that might happen.”

Melissa lightly hits your shoulder for that. “Stop.” She murmurs. It doesn't sound that much like she means it when she kisses you again. “Lemme finish what I'm doin’ then I'll be ready to get the girls.”

You continue to hold the redhead by her waist as she finishes chopping the cilantro used for garnish before she sighs softly. “Okay, let’s go get our little tornadoes, and then… Val, I’ll be back for the dinner shift.”

“Melissa, you know I have it handled if you want to spend time with your family,” the manager reminds her.

“I think I need to be here,” the owner states. “But I might just have to bring my circus with me.”

“We’ll see you later, Val,” you nod in the woman’s direction as you guide your wife out the back door.

The second that you’re out of the restaurant though, your wife has you pinned up against the stone wall. It catches you off guard, but it’s not unwelcome. 

“Honey,” you mutter against her lips after a few minutes- your wife’s hands and lips wandering. “Baby, as much as I would love to… you do have security cameras out here, and we do have to pick up the girls.”

She groans but does pull away. “We need a night where we aren’t both so exhausted, and we can actually have time to ourselves where we aren’t just sleeping.”

“I’ll see if I can take the girls to one of our parents this weekend,” you promise her. You lead your beautiful wife down to the car, and you pull off in the direction of the girls.

Once you’ve collected them, you take them back to the restaurant, and they are all too thrilled to jump on Valentina with hugs and kisses.

“Can you keep an eye on them?” Melissa asks her manager. “Just for like… twenty minutes?”

Val eyes the two of you, who are still very much undressing each other with your eyes. “No.”

“You still want a job?” your wife threatens, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Let me remind you that I do own this place.”

“You wouldn’t fire me,” Valentina rolls her eyes. “Fine. Just… don’t… anywhere where I’ll be able to see it on the security cameras.”

By the time the two of you reenter the restaurant, you’re both much more at ease. The girls are sitting at their designated table in the back with their coloring books and crayons with Val, giggling as she too doodles with them.

“We really need to give her a raise,” you sigh softly as you watch with a soft fondness in your eyes.

“Oi, remember who you're married to.” Melissa says with a small jab of her elbow to your ribs when she sees your look at the twins with Val.

You roll your eyes but kiss your wife again just to make sure she knows you definitely didn't forget. “Like I could forget being the luckiest woman in the world, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah, just watch our girls, sweet talker.” Melissa answers despite her smile and a tint to her cheeks.

You take over coloring duty to let Valentina follow your wife back to the kitchen for the dinner rush that's starting to come in. The twins chatter with you about their days over their crayons and pages. You manage to keep them quiet and contained to your table until Val is bringing out little plates for them for dinner. You smile knowing well that it's your wife's work and nothing at all that's actually on the menu. The best and solely Melissa made things were reserved for your tiny twin terrors.

“Mommy!” Both your girls are saying excitedly, with mouths full a few minutes later.

“Stay here.” You say softly at them starting to scramble for your wife despite her making her way over.

Melissa sets a plate in front of you and one next to you for herself. Quickly kissing the heads of your girls and murmuring to them softly as she wipes their faces. It's only then that she takes her spot next to you for her dinner break. 

“You comin’ home with us for bedtime or are you stayin’ to close with Val?” You ask as you work on stabbing another forkful of pasta.

“I don't wanna make ya come back.” Melissa answers. “It'll be late and I don't want to—”

“No fuckin’ way.” You cut your wife off when you glanced back up from your plate, your eyes catching a table across the restaurant floor.

“Mam! That's a bad word!” Rosie says loudly from her spot standing on her chair next to you instead of sitting. You wince as most of the sentence is said directly into your ear.

“Mam you gotta pay the jar a dollar!” Cat exclaims from next to her sister, referencing the swear jar on the entertainment center in your living room.

“What is it?” Melissa asks, seeing your face. “Rosie, sweetheart, sit down before you fall.” She adds without even looking at your youngest.

“Sit down completely.” You add when you see Rosie merely crouch on her chair instead in the corner of your eye. You lean a bit more into your wife, gesturing as subtly with your fork as you can. “Look at who's sittin’ at the table ‘cross the floor.”

Melissa glances about the room, looking like she's merely checking on the restaurant and that her staff is working even though she's on break. You know when she sees it though because a half second after her head is turning back to face you, her eyes wide.

“I know that is not Uncle Dom sittin’ with the Feds in my restaurant.” She hisses out at you.

“‘Cept it is. It definitely is.” You retort, forcing most of your attention back to your meal and your daughters. 

“You think he's talkin’?”

You scoff at your wife's question. “Dom? Flipping? I don't think so, babe. I think he'd sooner have a heart attack at your restaurant for the dramatics of it than do that.”

“Then they're pressin’ him.” Melissa guesses, doing her best to not seem as if she's noticed that particular table at all.

“Or tryin’ to.” You cede. “Maybe finally gettin’ closer on the Bobby business. Realized it ain't somebody like us they should be worried about.”

“God, if only. I ain't gonna put my guard down yet though.”

“I wouldn't.” You agree.

You're nearly finished eating when Val comes to your table, leaning close to your wife's side. “Dom is askin’ for you. I told him he'd have to wait.” She relays, glancing between the two of you for reactions. 

Valentina doesn't know about the salon and it's extra business. She doesn't have to, though. She lives in the neighborhood and she knows plenty well who people like Dom are. If you guessed, you'd imagine she has an idea of who you and your wife are, too. 

“Thanks, Val. I'll take care of it, huh? You mind bringin’ the girls a couple cannolis?”

You groan as your daughters cheer and Val walks away. “Baby, why?” 

Melissa leans to kiss your cheeks. “‘Cause they've been little girls on their best behavior for their moms tonight.” She says loud enough for the twins, shooting them a smile. “And to keep them occupied just a little longer.” She adds in a whisper to you.

You reach and grasp your wife's wrist as she gets up to leave the table, watching Agent Shaw and Danik rise from Dom's table and shake his hand before they leave. You look back to Melissa who looks down at you. “Be careful, yeah?” You whisper before you kiss her knuckles. 

She smiles, her fingertips brushing your cheek in affection when you pull away. “I'll be fine.” She promises before stepping away to weave through the tables on her dinner floor.

Valentina comes over and brings your girls dessert, and they grin the entire time that they eat, the chocolate sauce and raspberry sauce finding its way more to their cheeks than their mouths. You silently curse your wife as you usher them into the bathroom to clean their sticky faces and fingers- but you have to admit that they’re absolutely precious.

“Why’re you here?” Melissa asks the older man- the one who took your salon out from under you. “And why the hell were you talkin’ to the feds?”

Dom shrugs. “I wanted dinner.”

“You know you can always get dinner over at Ma’s. You have no business bein’ in here during our rush, and you know that,” your wife says pointedly.

“They were askin’ me questions,” he tells her. “Asking about you and the restaurant- if this place had anything to do with Bobby’s murder.”

“What the hell could they be askin’ ‘bout?” the redhead grumbles. “They already searched the damn place and tore it up. I’m sure you heard about it.”

“I told ‘em that the restaurant is legit,” Dom says quietly. “I told ‘em that you put your whole heart into this place, just as you do with the salon… that they need to stop harassin’ you, or there’s gonna be hell to pay.”

“We already told them that,” Melissa mutters. “They have no right showin’ up here like that.”

“Well, they did,” the man shrugs. “And it seems like you should be in the clear with the way that they saw how business is conducted- that you brought your girls here. Which is why, I have a proposition for you.”

“And that would be?”

“We start using Twelve Tables as the front.”

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #abbott elementary fanfiction #la cosa nostra #collab fic

[artigas]

I’m really happy that Black Sails is experiencing a bit of a renaissance, but (predictably) some of the takes I’m seeing online are so busted. It’s wild to me that anyone would complain about the fact that Anne Bonny kisses Jack after she’s developed this life-changing relationship with Max. It’s absolutely wild to see anyone roll their eyes or feel uncomfortable about the fact that Flint has sex with Miranda when he returns to her in season one or that Max is most likely a lesbian but actively has sex with men for pay and knows how to make that pleasurable. It’s crazy to me that some of the very audiences who claim to want queer representation feel so discomforted when they actually see the mess and seeming inconsistencies of queerness that they asked for.

The reality is that there are lesbians who have had (and will have!) meaningful, mutually-gratifying, and deeply sexual relationships with men. There are gay men who’ve enjoyed having sex with women, who are gay as the day is long and nevertheless feel sexually attracted to a woman or two and are nevertheless gay men, full stop. There are gay cis men who are happily married to trans women. There are femme dom tops and butch bottoms and there are mascs afab people who like femme boys. There are non-binary people and trans men who actively identify as lesbians. There are ace and aro people who enjoy thinking about and engaging with sex — sometimes in fiction and sometimes in real life. Queerness, in fiction and in reality, defies neat categorization. That is the beauty, power, and (perceived) unorthodoxy of queerness.

Now, I’ll say this — do I think the straight men behind Black Sails were actively thinking deeply and insightfully about the paradoxes and fuckery of queer identity when they wrote Black Sails? No! By their own admission, Steinberg and Levine have owned up to the fact that some of the writing of the show was really hinged on their own blind spots as people who are not (to my knowledge) members of the queer community. If I want to be generous, I think that the beautiful mess of Black Sails is that, in not feeling like experts enough to designate specific identity labels to any of their characters, the writers stumbled their way into more authentic representation of lived queer experience, which is to say that the notion that James Flint was actively thinking of himself as a gay man was anachronistic. As many lesbian archivists and theories have noted, the notion of a queer identity — as in, queerness is who you are, not what you do — was patently unthinkable for most cultures in the past. In other words, the idea that Anne Bonny operates in the eighteenth century as a lesbian and thus would not willingly engage in relationships with men is not only untrue of the series, but untrue of most recorded lesbian experiences in the real world. The notion that a lesbian would operate her entire life without engaging sexually or romantically with men, for instance, is a very new privilege that some of us are very lucky to enjoy, but it is not true for the vast majority of human history — hell, it’s not even true of our present world.

This is all to say that think that there’s something really funny about how we want queer characters to fit into neatly organized boxes. This isn’t a new problem, either. When the show was still airing, the BS fandom would get itself into tizzies about wether or not Flint is gay or bisexual, wether or not Anne Bonny is a lesbian, wether or not Silver is queer when his only canonical relationship is with Madi, etc etc. We’ve been having these discourses for years and I don’t know. I get that much of it is fueled by how badly some people want to see themselves represented in media, but . . . well. The siloing of queer characters and queer narratives into neat little boxes has never felt very authentic to me and nine times out of ten, it’s also just so damn boring.

#black sails #anyways I gotta stop yapping #its just wild seeing the same arguments play out on twitter and other corners of tumblr when like #lmao I was there for the day when like 2.5 people got very angry that I referred to Max as a queer woman ONCE #and interchangeably with calling her a lesbian lmao #when I tell you … I love this show but those writers were not being that intentional with any of this lmao

[ciaonicole85]

ESCAPING INTO A SHIP

So what exactly made me latch onto the Sydcarmy ship like a leech on a water buffalo?

It was unexpected (for me)! Yes, the very first meeting between Syd and Carm did make an impact. I thought "Oooh, what's this?!" However, Carmy was/is such a mess that I quickly dismissed it. And Sydney just seemed to want his professional approval and a partner in making something great after the soul-crushing failure of Sheridan. So, the first season I personally didn't feel a mutual sexual/romantic tension, more like an automatic respect and shared goals/passions. Sydney nor Carm were obviously trying to flirt. Most slow burns on TV are 100% obvious like a Jeanine and Gregory (Abbott Elementary), Nick and Jess (New Girl), Jake and Amy (Brooklyn 99), Jim and Pam (The Office)...Until Braciole Ep. 8 that is.

S. 1 Episode 8- I won't get into everything but Carmy was desolate. Yes, he became a psycho chef and two people quit in Ep.7. However, he mourned Sydney more than Marcus. She was in his flashback/nightmare (?), then the way he told Tina that she looked like Syd (the poor pup), him texting her before opening the note from Mikey, and finally the most gorgeous locked gaze scene since Pride and Prejudice (2005). The soft lighting, the music, the colors, the mind-reading...magical. I still didn't get it initially. Silly, blind me.

Mentorship where??? Season 2 Carm and Syd's "mentorship" dynamic is pretty much over. They are true partners and spending more time together. They're dressing alike even when not in uniform, finishing each other's sentences or talking in unison. Sydney is opening up more of herself and Carm is asking to know more. They use the ASL sign for sorry with each other and no one else until ep 10. Then there's that locker scene in ep. 1 or 2, when they almost hang out just cause. However, Carmy misses the moment and there's the return of the kicked pup face. Before being on the ship I was delighted with all of their scenes and was looking forward to the food tour. They just ROCK together on screen.

Classic Love Triangle- Who's Claire? She's "Claire Bear", the prototypical "cool girl", who is willing to chase an socially awkward, wrong-number-giving man, despite being a pretty ER resident with no shortage of options. Did a CW writer get hired? Anyways, why was her presence used almost exclusively to put strain on Carmy and Sydney's relationship instead of The Bear generally? We could have had scenes with Nat, Richie, and Marcus arguing with Carmy about him being distracted due to Claire. They saved 99% of that for Sydney. They CHOSE to insert her in between or just after scenes with him and Claire. Showing Sydney's tattoos and her getting dressed with the stained chef's coat juxtaposed with them was WILD.

I LOVE that both believe their interpersonal problems are solely about The Bear/business partnership. In most "slowburns" the characters are far more conscious and actively work to keep things platonic. Jeremy might be a smidge aware that Sydney means more to him after the panic attack, but I bet he's shoved it down. All he knows afterward is that being with Claire feels wrong hence ignoring her call and recommitting to SYDNEY. He could of said "You all/This/The Bear deserve my full focus etc..." He was also nagged into greeting Claire at Friends and Family, seemed anxious when Fak brought her up right before The Table scene, and also while explaining that "she's great" to Sydney. He was at peace when focused on Sydney in the moment below.

The actors: Jeremy and Ayo's real life friendship is warms my soul and their chemistry onscreen is amazing. DON'T WASTE IT!!!

Jeremy smolders on screen. I want to see Carmy continue to stare, yearn, fall, then eventually confess and for Sydney to reciprocate his feelings. Anyhoo, does anyone else melt when Carm means business?! They do this twice in season one and it's not good for me. Whew, I need to clean my whole house or run a few miles.

Finally, there's so many other parallels between these two. They are fearful avoidants, have a missing or dead parent, jacked up stomachs, use sarcasm, but are generally very earnest, they struggle with anxiety, are compassionate, are perfectionists, peace-makers, give people multiple chances, are workaholics...so much more. A lot of that is also ME, lol.

Sydcarmy is my Roman Empire. I love them as much as you can fictional characters and they deserve the most tender, angsty, triumphant, romantic best-friends to more love story.

#get the straight jacket #I gotta clean my house now #the bear #sydcarmy #sydney x carmy #carmy x sydney #sydney adamu #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #syd adamu #friends to lovers #slow burn #love story #word vomit #thoughts #roman empire

[jazzyblusnowflake]

In what ways do you believe V would display romance and affection?

V is... a difficult one smh. she hardly even allows anyone to touch her, and the solver had altered her AI beyond the possibility of her being able to relearn a new personality easily- or at least not overnight. Its like a semi-perminant trauma response.

so lets see-

V is prideful, even if she doesnt flaunt it like J, she couldnt bring herself to actually face people when shes doing something kind for them, she usually does it from behind the curtain. she doesnt want anyone to know she has anything soft about her, shes still scared of getting hurt, we have seen this several times during the show where she gets put off by the solver when Uzi uses it.

But when in a relationship she had to deal with the fact that the bond has to go both ways. it was... not easy for her to even admit she liked to be in a relationship in the first place. in fact i doubt if any of them even thought about it at all- before they knew what was happening they were all just an inseperable part of eachothers lives, and try as she might, N and Uzi just knew she cared about them lol.

V learned to open up a bit more. She opts for silence rather than flat out lying to peoples faces now, and when she feels ready to share something the others hear her out.

another thing that V does is trying to participate in things N and Uzi suggest. its really not easy to deal with 2 people who are so emotionally charged- so N and Uzi dont blame her for sitting out of activities but she tries to join them just to have the company, like going out around the desolate human cities looking for random stuff and sharing interests, or cuddling in a fort and doodling stuff- maybe even sometimes dancing or looking for clothes and getups. even though she might not participate in the activity herself, she still likes to be present and that itself shows N and Uzi that she cares.

speaking of clothes, Vs time with Lizzy showed her that a part of her still wishes she had the freedom to live as a normal drone for all the time that was robbed of her. she likes to look pretty and she likes to wear pretty outfits... something that she might have not had the choice on even if she had lived all her life as a normal drone. and showing the other two some of the outfits she choses and prettying herself up for her partners is probably a side of her shes not gonna willingly let anyone else see any time soon. N and Uzi arent complaining :p

Initiating any physical affections is something that she does rarely but sometimes even she craves the attention. Uzi and N feel like a cat had chosen to trust them lmao. She used to start really simple like curling her tail around N or Uzi or their leg or tail- she opted to skip hand holding and just go towards hugs or cuddles whenever she wanted the attention or N and Uzi were idly doing something and she just decides to join. sometimes she would demand neck scratches and rubs or head pats, she usually doesnt let anyone simply touch her so those are a big deal. and well if she goes for more like kisses or anything more intimate, she makes sure that her partners are okay with it and that shes not bothering them or forcing them by doing so.

Sleeping. thats it. V hardly allows herself to rest. the fact that she would let herself sleep around N or Uzi or even cuddle with them shows shes immensely trustful and happy of where she is right now. N and Uzi want to expload cuz its like a cat had fallen asleep on them and now they cant move cuz they dont wanna wake her up TvT

i think thats all i have for nowwww >:3

#snow rambles #snowballflo #murder drones #nuzi #vuzi #envuzi #nuziv #uzi doorman #serial designation n #serial designation v #biscuitbites #violetviolence #goldenmemories #violentbitingbiscuits #murder drones envy #envy

[mauvecherie-writes]

Sorry yeah but the way you readers get spoiled on here is INSANE. I’m just gonna use them as an example of an ongoing issue on tumblr but I was going through @laneywrld’s notes bc I was re-reading her latest LH fic and it’s all likes and just two comments: one reblog/comment from me and one more in the comment section.

The fic is 7.7K words and you’re telling me only TWO people out of 153 notes were able to verbalise how they enjoyed the work??? Do you know long it takes to write 7.7k words ???? Let alone 1K???

This isn’t an issue with just the LH/F1 space for black writers who do x black!reader but MOST black authors in this app. They put out some good ass work to get CRICKETS back. Hell even me sometimes. I’m at the point where I know who exactly is going to comment bc they’re so consistent in their showing up for me and I try to do that for other authors I enjoy here.

But bloody hell, for the majority of readers - yall give nothing and it’s honestly so exhausting to watch and see my moots on here be demotivated about writing anymore because readers who say are engaged not be actively engaged with your work? I don’t know how many times writers have to ask people to comment and reblog on their work because that’s more motivating than just a like! Hell, dropping into their ASK BOX to rant about a character or a story is far more engaging than a like.

I don’t know how many times we keep having to circle back to this conversation. At the end of the day we’re doing all of this for free - it’s the bare minimum we ask. Rant over.

Do better by your fave writers 🩷

#mauvecherie writes #support black writers #black readers #black reader #black authors #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x black reader #lh

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Wanna play mermaids?

Barbie dolls: jegulus x reader (James, regulus, you)

Words: 3.4k ish

Summary: you and regulus work as mermaids at the renaissance fair and shockingly a lot of dads hit on you guys but what if one of them was hot?????? OH GOD PLEASE RELASE ME I WANT PEACE PLEASE GOD PLEASE

Warnings: your mermaid name is meryn, I personally think mermaid is a gn term but I understand why you wouldn't view it that way I was a mermaid kid so all I did was read books on them so to me personally I just feel like they wouldnt care about gender norms or gendered language BUT I UNDERSTAND so you and regulus are referred to as mermaids but there is no other gendered language, morden au, marylily is real, regulus is trans with stars around his top surgery scars and he's a tad insecure about the scars but it's cool, that's all.

You and your boyfriend, Regulus, loved working at fairs. You both had spent a very long time honing your costumes and characters. So when the biggest fair in your area hired you both, you were giddy. After you hung up, you and Regulus both screamed and jumped around the kitchen, holding onto each other. After waiting and picking at the fine details, the fair had finally opened again.

Every summer for about three months the fair on the outskirts of town was open. People dressed up, fairies, witches, queens, knights, regular old Renaissance peasants, came from all over to join in the festivities. Behind the large, fake, castle gates was a massive amount of care and love. People worked to fill their booths with handmade products. People spoke with old accents, calling out to thou to payeth for a large pretzel with your Chime credit card. You loved it. All the costumes, all the activities, all the love people put in, seeing the joy in children's eyes as they met real life mermaids. Even if it was just you and your  dumbass boyfriend in costume, it was real to them. You were even more excited to go to the one in town, you had seen how their mermaid tank was set up.

For quests they had to find the building with the painted mermaids all over it. It was open concept mostly, as most things at the fair were, no ac, all wood, and still beautiful. The building was mainly there for the gift shop, if the people wanted to see the real mermaids they'd have to follow the small stone path. Through a small arched gate, vines climbing up it, was a small winding garden path. Stunning flowers and vines growing around them as they made their way down the line. Eventually they'd turn the corner and see it. The large tank of water, usually with a mermaid inside. Around the tank were large fake rocks, making it look less like a tank and more like a tiny cave. Inbeaded in the rocks were gold dabloons and seashells. False seaweed twisting around the rocks. It was convincing enough for a child. Then there was another small path that led the guests out of the garden and back to the gift shop.

For the mermaids however, the path was different. You entered in through the gift shop, an employee showing you behind the beaded curtain in the back. Through there you found two doors, both painted teal that was now peeling and dim. Through the door on the left was a bathroom aka changing room. Through the door on the right was a small pool, the half of the tank that wasn't visible to the public. On two of the walls there was a space to walk, sidewalk wide. There were regular old swimming pool steps off in the corner, a lovely space to sit and take a break in your opinion. Then across from the door was an entryway. It started at the bottom of the tank and raised all the way up to just above the water. You entered the tank for the children to see you by getting into the pool and then swimming through the entry. It was most definitely one of the nicer set ups. There was one time where you showed up and found a troft waiting for you.

You and Regulus had gotten dressed, slid into your tails, and flipped yourselves into the pool all within an hour. You still had about thirty minutes to waste before you were needed outside. You had noticed that Regulus was quieter than usual but you just assumed he was tired. It was early in the morning and he was more of a night owl. Though now as you were both sitting on the steps, passing time in silence, you felt worried. You nudged his shoulder with yours. You asked him if he was alright and he seemed to sink. He shrugged. There a moment of silence before be started whispering to you.

"I'm just worried someone might say something." You raised an eyebrow at him.

"About?" Regulus rolled his eyes and gestured at his chest. He had scars, but so did millions of people. Regulus once vented to Sirius about his insecurities over his scars and Sirius offered the solution of tattoos. Of course he would. Regulus took it though. He went and got stars littered around them. Regulus was definitely more confident in them when you were alone or with friends but he always seemed to get a little antsy before working. You shrugged.

"Has anyone said anything before?" You already knew the answer. You just needed to remind him of it. Regulus pinched his lips together, shaking his head. "Then why would anyone say something now? What makes this job any different?" Regulus sighed and dropped his head on your shoulder.

"I have no real merit behind my anxieties." You nodded. You pressed a kiss to his forehead, glad he finally came to a proper conclusion. You slipped off the step, dropping to your shoulders in  the water. Regulus soon joined you. You swam through the opening. The outside part of the tank was much nicer than the inside. It was still early in the morning, the fair opening accnoucment started at 7:40 but no one really entered the fair until 8 ish. If you looked to the side you could see the sunrise. Regulus' head popped up out of the water next to you. You smiled at him. There were two small false rocks with flat tops in the two corners at the front.

You loved how Regulus looked in this lighting. He glanced over at you when he noticed you staring at him. Regulus rolled his eyes and made his way over to the corner across from you. He plopped himself down on the rock and rested his arm over the edge of the tank.

His tail was purple. You were there when he got his inspiration. You and Regulus were shopping for Luna's third birthday present when a little girl ran up to him holding up her Barbie doll. She kept pointing at them both. You saw the similarities instantly. It was a little mermaid doll with short black hair and a purple and blue tail. After her mother came running around the corner apologizing a million times and throwing the girl over her shoulder. Regulus turned to you. You shrugged and looked back to the dinosaurs. Luna was going through a dinosaur phase. She only wanted dinosaurs. Dinosaur chicken nuggets, dinosaur socks, dinosaur cereal, if it wasn't dinosaurs she wasn't having it. Regulus sniffed. You looked over at him. He was wiping at his eyes. You wanted to laugh a little. He was crying over a Barbie. All things considered though you've done the same so you hugged him and cooed.

Now he really was a spitting image of the doll. Your tail was orange. For no other reason than you thought it looked cool. You kept flapping your tail over Regulus'. He looked away from the garden to glare at you. A man in full peasant garb came around the corner, scrolling on his phone. He turned it off and shoved it into his leather pouch attached to his belt. He smiled at you two.

"Hey you guys, I'm John. I'm basically going to be right by you guys at all times if you need anything, if anyone gets weird. And also so I can direct people towards the exit but majority I'm here to support you." You both nodded at John. You shook his hand, introducing yourself and Regulus with both your names and mermaid names. Regulus gave John a short wave before looking back out at the garden.

"Yeah we're already having a line build up out there, your first meeting time is at 8:30, that's when the gate opens. Then the second meeting time starts at 9:30. And then so on and so forth, but after 11:30 that's it until 1:30 so we all have lunch time then." John explain, pulling his phone out the scroll down the schedule. You didn't have the heart to tell him you already knew the schedule.

After Regulus had celebrated with you for the first 5 minutes of finding your new job he was pulling out his laptop and reaserching everything. He took notes. Color coordinated notes. Regulus then helped you memorize everything. From the schedule to the blueprints to the faux accents people put on. He even went over your characters' lore with you again.

However you appreciated John's kindness to explain the schedule to you anyways. So you thanked him. You decided if he didn't run off to have lunch with his other peasant friends you'd find a way to get your lunch outside and eat with John. John notified you when the other workers opened the gate.

Quickly after that the first family was rounding the corner, jumping over the vines. Regulus fixed his posture, sitting up straight and smiling wide at the little boy. He was clutching onto a cloth mermaid doll like it was his lifeline. He squealed when you both waved at him. he was quickly advancing on you two, leaving his loser family behind. He was more interested in Regulus than he was you. The little boy told Regulus his favorite color was actually blue. He also explained siren lore to Regulus. Regulus smiled and nodded along. The boy asked Regulus what his name was. Regulus pressed his finger to his lips before pointing to you.

"His name is Llyrrick." You said, smiling at the boy. He pouted looking back to Regulus. Regulus had quickly realized after your first few jobs, talking to people for that long, masking for that long really, was extremely tiring. So you both adapted. Suddenly Llyrrick just didn't talk and Meryn, you, was talking double time.

"Do you not talk?" The little boy asked, tilting his head to the side at Regulus. Regulus pinched his lips together, shaking his head no. The boy's smile grew, letting out an excited squeal. He quickly ran back to his family, who was standing awkwardly next to the tank. He latched onto what looked to be his older sister. She looked to be only a few years older than him. He dragged her over to Regulus.

"This is my sister, she doesn't talk either. So sometimes I talk for her at restaurants and stuff, like you." He said smiling at you. Regulus smiled brightly, waving at them both. The girl looked more than giddy to meet a mermaid who was like her, her smiling biting back at her cheeks. Regulus held up his finger before flopping himself off his rock seat. He quickly swam back through the opening. Both the kids looked back to you, with sad looks, scared he was running away from them.

"Llyrrick is getting you two presents. Hey do you two where we merfolk keep our money?" They both shook their heads at you. "At the riverbank." You giggled at your own joke, even though you didn't really find it funny. Both the kids chuckled at your joke. You kept running off puns to keep them entertained. Regulus was back in few more seconds. He pulled himself back into his rock seat. Regulus reached into his now soaking cloth bag. It was small but it held a lot of false mermaid coins. Regulus reached into the bag and pulled out two, dropping one in each of the children's hands. You both waved them off as John pointed them to their way out of the garden.

You and Regulus gave each kid a coin before they left. Some of them spent more time talking to you, some talking to Regulus more, and some just stared at you both in silence. As the hours passed you started looking more and more to your lunch. You loved watching the childrens' excitement at seeing real life mermaids, but it was still tiring. Lunch was quickly approaching, you were already at the end of your 11:30 line.

"Sorry, he doesn't know how to flirt. He just kinda stares with his mouth open." She whispered to you, trying not to disturb Harry The Number One Mermaid Fan and Llyrrick's conversation. You shrugged.

The last family was rounding the corner. A small boy and three adults following after him. The boy was in jorts, light up lighting McQueen sneakers, a red shirt with a cartoon mermaid plastered on the front, and glasses too big for his face. He looked to be 7 or so. He was holding onto what was most definitely his father's hand. They looked like carbon copies, even in matching glasses.

Behind them both were two beautiful women.  One was in all green, with long red hair and the other was in as many bright colors you could imagine, her curly hair pulled into two buns. If you didn't already think it was the hottest set of parents you most certainly did now.

The man had a mustache that could truly only be described as a pornstache. Even worse, he made it hot. His muscles were large. You felt sympathy for his tshirt sleeves. You slowly turned your head to stare at Regulus. He gave you the exact 'you seeing this?' look you were giving him. You smiled and turned back to them as they got closer.

The little boy was dragging his father to the edge of your tank, his two mums following behind them. You thought they were the hottest throuple you ever did see. If you were the mirror mirror on the wall and they asked you who was the finest of them all you'd consider death. It'd be easier than picking. The boy smiled at you two as his father froze at the edge of the tank. You said hello to the boy as Regulus waved. He introduced himself as Harry, The Number One Mermaid Fan. You smiled at him. He talked to you both. Regulus gave him encouraging looks. Regulus crossed his arms over the edge of the tank, dropping his chin on his forearms.

You noticed the father was staring at you both. It unfortuently wasn't as uncommon as you wished it was.  A lot of people would stare, most of them making you uncomfortable. You glanced over at him. His jaw was slack and his shoulders slumped, making him look like a child salivating at a candy store window. You stared back, raising an eyebrow at him. The red headed woman came up from behind him, giving you a smile.

"I'm not flirting with your husband. I'm actually just sitting in a tank. Us merfolk don't flirt we give each other seaweed bouquets for courtship." You stated blankly. It wasnt the first time a partner of someone has chewed you out for looking at their loved one. Apperantly an orange fish tail was quite flirtatious.

"Oh gross no. I'm married to her, not him. Anyways just give us a second." She pulled the man away, over toward the other woman. They both gave you a small smile before gripping onto the man's shoulders. You continued to talk to Harry The Number One Mermaid Fan and ignored them entirely. As Harry started to ask Regulus more questions about sea life, all of which Regulus answered, the father came back up to you clutching his phone tightly. He had shinked into himself, looking as small as a buff as shit dude could.

"Excuse me, sorry I don't mean to be irritating, but do you think it's possible I could get both your numbers?" He was muttering so quietly you barely even heard him. You looked over to Regulus. He was already staring at you. Regulus gave you a light nod before answering Harry's question on the economy system with his hands, John stepped over to him, pressing his hand to the father's chest, giving him a light shove.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave." John whispered. You reached out and tugged on the edge of John's shirt.

"Thank you, John. It's alright." John looked back at you to check a second time that you were speaking and not clone. You nodded. John looked back to the father, looking him up and down with the stink eye before moving away.

As John shut the exit gate you looked at Regulus. He groaned and slumped lowing into the water. You nodded, understanding completely. Regulus stared at you, you could see his admiration simmering under his gaze. You gave him a knowing look as he continued to slip lower and lower under the surface of the water. You rolled your eyes as his head disappeared under the water before popping up next to you again. Regulus pushed him up next to you on your rock seat, dropping his head on your shoulder and interlocking your elbows.

"Well I can't give you my cell phone number but i can give you my Shell-phone number" Your smile grew as you said your own pun. The man started laughing at your joke as he opened his contacts. You warmed, most people ignored your puns. Who would've thought a dad would enjoy your dad jokes?

You quietly whispered your number and real name to him. He was giddily smiling the whole time, giggling as he entered in the numbers. When you were done you looked over to Regulus, silently asking if he was sure you can gave his number away. Regulus sent you a wink and pulled his hand out from under the water, a shell in his palm.

On occasion, you genuinely wondered if he was a mermaid because you never packed shells but he always had pulled some out from nowhere. You turned back to the man listing off Regulus' number and his real name. The man was bouncing on his heels. He looked to be fighting off the urge to do a jig in celebration.

Just as you were finishing handing off Regulus' number, Regulus was dropping two coins into Harry's hands. The man thanked you a million times before lifting the boy off his feet with ease and throwing him over his shoulder. The boy squealed and laughed as the four of them left. Both of the women sent you two bright smiles.

"He was hot." Regulus whispered against the skin of your wet shoulder.

"Fuck, I know. Jeez Louise." Regulus nodded understanding your exasperation. He gently kissed your shoulder, sitting up. He looked back at John.

"Thanks, John." John stared at Regulus with wide eyes. You looked over your shoulder to smile at John.

"Right well, I'm going to go to pop over to the food court. I'm going to wander around a bit but I'll be back before 1:00, okay?" John said. You both gave him a nod. He left through the garden.

You and Regulus ate lunch in the inside tank. After that you both continued to meet more children and families. As the Fair closed for the day, you were slightly ashamed to say you glad. You and Regulus were out of your tails, not bothering to wipe off the painted scales on your faces. All the guests had left, you both leaned on each other as you left through the faux castle walls. Staying in a pool all day and being exhausted made your legs slightly wobbly.

"Mm bath, dinner, bed?" Regulus muttered, his voice slightly hoarse from not using it all day.

"Would you still love me if I said, A bath is too much energy?" You really weren't sure if you could last another second in water. Regulus hummed.

"Okay, Dinner, stinky bed time?" You nodded against his arm. He dropped a kiss to your forehead as he lead you through the parking lot.

"Glad we got that sorted, now the question is what are we having for dinner?" You groaned at Regulus asking you so many questions.

"Hey maybe that guy from earlier will be up for coming over. I'm entirely positive he won't mind being dinner, he was jumping up and down getting your number." You offered. Thinking about real answers was too hard.

"Really? I was thinking noodles." Regulus muttered, his tone flat. You lifted your head off his shoulder and smiled at him, lightly pecking his cheek.

“Noodles work.” Regulus nodded, pulling you off towards your car.

#regulus black #james potter #marauders era #marauders #james x regulus #jegulus #jegulus x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james x reader #james potter x regulus black #regulus x james #regulus black x reader #trans regulus #james loves regulus #regulus black x female reader #regulus black x you #regulus black x james potter #james potter x reader #trans james potter #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x #regulus deserved better #trans reggie #trans regulus black #the marauders era #the marauders #the maraunders map

[bloodblanks]

the cadence within [il dottore x reader] — chapter i.

As the daughter of a moderately wealthy businessman, you lived a comfortable but solitary life. You never thought to leave your peaceful refuge, not until one of your father’s associates—who was also your only friend—made an unexpectedly tempting offer.

co-written with noodsies, however, they’re shy and wish to stay anonymous! ♡

author's note: this fanfiction will contain mature content, including explicit sexual acts, violence, dottore himself, and similar themes.

please read at your own discretion.

<- previous chapter

Power presents itself in many different forms. Most often, those with power are thought to possess strength, intelligence, wealth, or status. However, you were not exceptionally talented in any of the above. Instead, you found yourself gifted with something much less conventional—charisma.

—

“Pantalone!” You opened the door, beaming at the raven haired man who stood before you. “Lovely seeing you here today.” You stepped back and held the door for him.

“Y/N,” Pantalone returned the smile, thick eyelashes fluttering as his eyes crinkled with joy. “The pleasure is all mine.”

He walked inside before pausing, waiting for you to push the dense mahogany door into place, making sure it locked shut. Your home was in a rather secluded location where few people passed by—much less dare intrude. Secrecy was invaluable to all of your father’s guests.

“Unfortunately,” you began, “my father is running late today, which I apologize for. But please do come in and make yourself comfortable in the meantime.”

Your father was a busy man with a full schedule, one he went out of his way to readjust for the impromptu meeting request. It would have been unreasonable to expect perfect punctuality, and the apology wasn’t necessary.

Still, you had one job, and it was to be nice.

“Nothing to apologize for,” Pantalone replied. “Your generous hospitality more than compensates for it.”

While being cordial was more of a chore with the often unpleasant and impatient businessmen your father associated with, you found Pantalone’s company an effortless task.

You weren’t sure of the exact reasons behind it, but your home was often used as a place for meetings and negotiations relating to your father’s work. You weren’t present for the discussions themselves, but you did greet and welcome every guest—something your dad was not fond of doing himself.

For someone who worked a job where conversation was important, talking was not one of your father’s strengths. Though he managed just fine when it came to business, small talk and pleasantries were burdensome activities for him, which is why you handled them instead.

It wasn’t like you particularly enjoyed talking about the weather which never deviated from cold, or listening to middle aged men complain about joint pain, but you disliked it significantly less than your dad did. If anything, you had a tendency to avoid matters of actual significance, preferring your meaningless exchanges over accountability.

Pantalone was just another one of your father’s many associates, but he visibly stood out from the rest. You didn’t know much about them, but you were confident that everyone you’ve greeted was in some way or another, a powerful dignitary.

But they were no Harbinger.

That fact alone was enough to separate Pantalone from every other person you’ve ever interacted with throughout your approximately two decades of lifespan. You didn’t know for sure, but you knew well enough that his wealth and power surpassed that of all your father’s clientele combined.

But that wasn’t what truly made him different.

Pantalone was a striking contrast to your father’s other associate; not just because he was a Harbinger, but rather he was the sole person you could consider a friend.

You hadn’t bothered making new friends after moving to Snezhnaya. There wasn’t any particular reason for it. Although confidentiality could qualify, you found yourself either occupied with your own hobbies or keeping your father company when he was actually home and not busy with work. Anything you desired was delivered directly to your residence, so you had no need to venture into the city and make small talk with the shopkeepers.

This meant your interactions were limited to your father and his associates, all of whom were as pruned and grey as him. The only exception was Pantalone, and though you didn’t know exactly how old he was—it would be rude to ask—he didn’t seem significantly older than you, both in appearance and mannerisms. At the very least, he didn’t possess the wrinkles and bitterness the others did.

At some point, you began looking forward to your interactions, which both preceded and succeeded Pantalone’s business meetings with your dad. While you still maintained an air of professionalism with you, your amity went beyond mere pleasantries.

As you led him down the wide hallways and cavernous rooms, you couldn’t help but ask the question that had been nagging at you since yesterday.

“Pantalone,” you broke the silence, “may I ask a question?”

“Of course, dear,” he replied.

“Today’s a Monday,” you stated, “and you were just here last Tuesday.” For as long as you remembered, Pantalone had a very specific schedule. Once every other week, every Tuesday, he’d visit. As far as you knew, never had he strayed from that schedule—not until now.

“Ah, as observant as ever, Y/N,” Pantalone remarked.

“And on such short notice too...” you continued, letting your words trail off before asking him directly, “Is something the matter?”

You stopped in front of your father’s study, turning the doorknob and allowing Pantalone in, before you let the door leisurely shut on its own behind you both.

“Oh, no, not at all. It’s just that business can be unpredictable at times—I’m sure you understand.” His tone was as carefree and relaxed as ever, but you were certain this was no trivial matter. However, it wasn’t your business, so you set aside your curiosity and didn’t push any further.

“You’re right,” you agreed. “I was just a bit worried that something was up. I’m glad to hear that everything’s fine.”

‘Worried’ was an exaggeration. While you did care about Pantalone, you had no reason to fret over his well being. It was unlikely that anyone or anything could pose a serious threat to him, ever—he was a Harbinger. Perhaps it was disingenuous for you to feign concern, but you thought it was a polite sentiment regardless.

All of your dad’s meetings, with all of his associates, were held in this room. It was furnished with this intent in mind; a well-lit room with a coffee table flanked by two sofas near the centre, encircled by a desk, a few china cabinets, and most importantly, a kitchenette.

“I didn’t know you cared so much, Y/N.” A teasing remark, as you should have expected. You watched as Pantalone sat down on the sofa with a smirk.

“Do I seem that heartless to you?” you prodded back.

“Quite the opposite. If anything, you have too much heart.” Your eyes widened ever so slightly, Pantalone’s reply catching you off guard—you didn’t expect him to answer so sincerely.

Despite your familiarity with conversation and flattery, you were usually the one to give compliments, not receive them.

“You’re flattering me. I’m not doing anything special,” you brushed it off awkwardly. You quickly turned towards the kitchenette to escape the topic. “Earl grey tea with cream and two sugar cubes?”

“Why, I’m flattered that you remember how I take my tea,” Pantalone said. You filled the kettle, waiting for the water to boil as you took out a teacup and saucer from the cabinet above you, along with tea leaves and an infuser. You opened the refrigerator beside you, retrieving a glass bottle of cream.

You weren’t sure how or when exactly it started, but you always had a fondness for tea. The shrubs themselves, the processing of the leaves, the plethora of varieties and tastes, the simple act of brewing tea—you adored it all. When you still lived in Fontaine, where the weather was warmer and vegetation was abundant, you would often tend to your imported Chenyu shrubs and curate the leaves yourself; something Snezhnaya’s harsh, frigid climate didn’t allow for.

Though you missed the extensiveness of your tea hobby in Fontaine, you found other ways to keep yourself occupied. The time you would have otherwise spent on picking leaves was now dedicated to baking. It was something your mother taught you from an early age, a craft you now spent time perfecting. After all, freshly baked goods were a perfect accompaniment to tea, and your father’s clients appreciated the assortment of delicacies.

It was an excuse to bake batches of pastries that you otherwise wouldn’t be able to finish if anything, but it was something everyone was happy with. The guests enjoyed your confectioneries, your father evaded vapid chit chat, and you baked to your heart’s content.

“I’ve made you tea every other week, ever since we’ve moved here,” you pointed out. “So about two and a half years. It’d be awfully rude if I didn’t remember your preferences by now.”

You earned a soft chuckle from Pantalone.

“Well, now I’m curious. What else do you remember about me?” he asked, the question making you gulp.

You did not have a good memory, and you were especially uncomfortable with being put on the spot, your brain oftentimes turning blank, forcing you to blurt out any nonsense to try and salvage whatever situation you were being put in. You tried to think of something to say so it wouldn’t be obvious that you couldn’t recall; that would be rude.

“Only your darkest secrets.” You fumbled with placing the dried leaves in the infuser.

“So you know her name then?” he interrogated, and of course you didn’t.

“Of course,” you declared with utmost confidence. “Full name, date of birth, medical records, everything.” You knew you were just digging yourself a deeper pit, but you had just poured the water and the tea wasn’t done steeping yet.

“And what about her death certificate?” he continued. You stirred the tea rapidly, pouring in just the right amount of cream alongside two sugar cubes, before picking it up and serving it with the plate of madeleines you had baked earlier.

“That’s included in the medical records.” You placed the tea down on the coffee table a bit too hard. You made sure to place the plate down more gently, as if to absolve yourself of embarrassment. “Here’s your tea. And of course, some madeleines I baked this morning.”

You sat down on the sofa across from him, awaiting his expression as he brought the teacup to his lips, sipping the beverage with elegance.

“It appears you really are as observant as ever,” he smiled with visible satisfaction.

“I’m observant when people are interesting,” you noted, relieved that the conversation had finally shifted.

“Is that so?” Pantalone put down the teacup. “Y/N, what about me do you find interesting?”

There were a plethora of things you found interesting about him, and you wondered if some of them would be too intrusive or direct to point out given his status, but promptly discarded the consideration.

“Well, for starters,” you said, “you’re a Harbinger.”

“Oh my,” Pantalone spoke with feigned surprise. “I nearly forgot!” He reached towards the plate, picking up one of your madeleines and taking a bite. You watched his face hungrily for validation, awaiting his judgement of your madeleines. Even though your confectioneries were never worse than satisfactory, you often liked to try new variations or entirely different recipes, taking note of any feedback from guests to further improve your skills.

“Wonderful baking as always, Y/N.” Pantalone’s words seemed to align with the pleased expression on his face, and you couldn’t help but grin, feeling proud of yourself.

“You know,” Pantalone started, bringing your attention back to the conversation, “such status can be quite cumbersome. People behave rather differently around you. It becomes hard to tell when such pleasantries and favours are coming from a place of genuine kindness, or somewhere else.”

The atmosphere suddenly dropped to a more solemn tone, startling you.

“Be that as it may, I’ve always felt at ease in your company. Contrary to popular opinion... us Harbingers aren’t all that different from everyone else, and I feel refreshingly ordinary in your presence.”

You listened to him attentively, musing over his sentences in your head to carefully formulate a response.

“Refreshingly ordinary...” you muttered. “I didn’t expect to hear that. If anything, you’re quite special to me. Regardless, I’m happy to hear that I’ve been pleasant company for you. The feeling is mutual.”

You finished speaking, a wistful smile on your face as you glanced downwards, the focus slipping from your gaze. While you and Pantalone had many conversations over the years, they primarily consisted of playful banter and idle chatter. Rarely would you be as pensive as you were now, and while sentimentality usually made you uncomfortable, you found yourself not minding it right now. Perhaps you were more lonely than you had originally considered, but you realized your words held more truth than expected.

Pantalone was someone special to you. There used to be others, too. When you still lived in Fontaine, you had close friends; people you deeply valued and cared for. But distance does not make the heart grow fonder. Distance simply meant the space between, and the space from Snezhnaya to Fontaine would parallel the growing disconnect between you and the ones you used to hold dear.

Everything in Teyvat had a limit to its elasticity, tangible or not. Things can only be stretched so far before the tension eventually causes it to sever. Emotional connection was no exception to that. Despite your agreements to continue writing one another and keep in contact, eventually the letters became fewer and longer between. The last time you had received a letter was about seven months ago.

People separate. People move on. It was only natural, and you had come to accept it. You had no idea what your former friends were doing now, but you were probably nothing more than a passing thought in their heads every once in a blue moon.

You didn’t often reminisce about them, either. But when you did, you would naturally ponder the idea of making new friends. Even though it would be wise to make an effort, you didn’t want to. Meeting new people, getting to know them, becoming as close to them as you were with your former friends—it was exhausting just to think about. You didn’t want to bother yourself with something so tedious.

But since Pantalone had been routinely visiting for the past few years, your attachment to him inevitably grew without you even realizing it.

Your rumination was interrupted by the sound of heavy, pounding footsteps rapidly approaching.

“Oh,” you said, “it seems like my father’s—”

“—Oh, Lord Pantalone, please forgive the delay!” The door flung wide open, your father rushing into the room. “Such tardiness in the face of a Harbinger is unacceptable and—”

“—Please, it’s all right, F/N,” Pantalone tried to calm your very much frantic father. “I was enjoying a lovely conversation over tea with your daughter just now and—”

“—No, no, no! This will not do!” your father declared. “You must be impossibly busy with work! We should discuss business as soon as possible—Y/N, you may take your leave now while we discuss urgent matters!”

You were halfway through getting up when Pantalone spoke.

“Well, actually, F/N, the reason I requested this meeting was because I wanted to speak with you regarding your daughter.”

What?

Your head snapped towards Pantalone, the rest of your body still frozen in an awkward motion between standing and sitting, your eyes wide with shock and mild horror.

You weren’t sure if you had heard him right or not. But judging by the similarly surprised look on your dad’s face, you likely heard him correctly.

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t ever thought of Pantalone as attractive. His elegantly styled black hair was smooth and silky—or at least it appeared so, you never ran your fingers through it—and his skin was radiant, fair as porcelain, his amethyst irises embellished with full sets of ebony lashes, sitting behind intricate silver glasses that framed his gracefully poised face just right.

However, you had never thought of anything beyond that. Not only were you unsure about how old he was—he could be twice your age, for Archons’s sakes—he was also your dad’s business associate, and you weren’t sure how your dad would feel about that, though you supposed you’d find out soon.

“Uh,” your dad stumbled over his own words, “Lord Pantalone... are you sure you want to, uh, discuss such matters with Y/N present?”

“Why, of course, F/N,” Pantalone replied, completely nonchalant. Your eyes darted between him and your father, the two of them wearing completely opposite expressions.

“Uhh,” your dad gibbered awkwardly, “are you sure you want to discuss such matters with me present?” You could see that he, too, was looking back and forth at the both of you in a futile attempt to grasp the situation. He was presumably contemplating the prospect of anything having happened between the two of you. The thought alone was enough to fluster you, and you were just thinking of how to explain that no, you were not and had not been sleeping with his business partner, when Pantalone spoke again.

“Oh, Archons, no, it’s nothing like that, please don’t misunderstand!” he exclaimed, his statement sending you into a brand new state of confusion. “I merely want your daughter to spy on Dottore.”

“I’m sorry, what?” you interjected, evident disbelief in your voice. You didn’t need to look at your dad to know he was even more disturbed than you, considering how he was at a loss for words.

“You see, it has recently come to my attention that Dottore is plotting something rather unfavourable to the Tsaritsa,” Pantalone elaborated, though you weren’t sure whether his explanation was helping or worsening the situation. “As a Harbinger, it is my duty to ensure her safety, and as Dottore’s closest associate, I’m in a most advantageous position to do so. Alas, I am but one man, so some assistance would be incredibly helpful.”

While the initial misconception was already difficult to process, the clarification was even more incomprehensible. You were stunned, unable to formulate any coherent thoughts until your dad managed to snap out of his stupor.

“You want my daughter to spy on Il Dottore? Forgive me, Lord Pantalone, but are you daft? How the hell is she supposed to do that? She is a child!” Despite its irrelevance to the situation, you couldn’t help a spark of irritation rising up at his words. You scowled, but put your annoyance aside for now, for there were more pressing matters at hand. Your father was becoming agitated, so you made an attempt to assuage the tension.

“...It’s fine,” you said, straightening up as you turned towards the Harbinger. “Pantalone, could you please elaborate?”

“Well, you see, I need someone whom I know and trust, that Dottore doesn’t know, but can come to trust,” he asserted. “I need someone new, unassuming, but not entirely unfamiliar. Someone who can keep a secret and find a secret. Who better than the daughter of the magnificent F/N?”

From an outside perspective, it was easy to make the assumption that you were knowingly assisting your father in keeping his clandestine activities concealed. Most people likely thought that, but it’d be incorrect.

Truthfully, your role in your father’s work was limited to greeting associates and serving them tea, along with any freshly baked goods you had made. Of course, you knew that your father wasn’t the most noble of men, considering his clientele—the Harbinger on your sofa being a perfect example—but that was the extent of your knowledge, and you preferred to keep it that way. You knew it made you apathetically recreant, but it was much easier to stay unaware and turn a blind eye to his questionable doings. You would keep yourself uninvolved in his business, hiding under your security blanket of willful ignorance.

The exact shelter that Pantalone was trying to coax you out of.

“Well, okay, sure, but—” your dad tried to protest.

“—And as a token of my gratitude,” Pantalone furthered,

“I would bring M/N back to life.”

next chapter soon... any interactions are appreciated (´･ω･`) thank you very much for supporting my work! ♡

#genshin fanfic #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin x you #dottore #dottore x reader #il dottore #il dottore x reader #il dottore genshin #il dottore smut #pantalone #dottore genshin #dottore smut #dottore x you #fatui harbingers #fatui x reader #fatui smut #genshin impact fatui #dottore headcanons #dottore hcs #il dottore headcanons #fatui #dottore reader insert #il dottore reader insert #genshin reader insert #pantalone genshin

[osirisiii-bc]

Primo Emeritus: Florence.

This is the first of my posts where I locate each Papa in Italian cities based on the occult influences/history of each city. I hope you find it interesting and useful!

Primo Emeritus, The Old One, the embodiment of all that is sacred. A personality like his deserves to be located in an ancient city full of art, poetry, and history, shaped by the esoteric and alchemical obsessions of the Medici family, amidst the enduring shadow of centuries-old Satanic cults.

Let’s see why I have chosen Florence for Primo.

In this chapel of ritual…

From the early 70s to the late 80s, a series of murders occurred in various regions of middle-north Italy, with the most infamous taking place in Tuscany, known as the case of the 'Monster of Florence' (Mostro di Firenze), which resulted in the deaths of 14 people - officially, but it is believed there were way more.

The theory is that these murders were part of a large network of Satanic rituals involving influential figures from Rome, Perugia, and Florence. This network is supposedly still active. The original cult allegedly responsible for initiating these rituals seems to be the 'Rosa rossa' (Red Rose) cult. 

A fertile ground for writing Ritual...

2. The creator of Hell.

Florence is the birthplace of Dante Alighieri, the renowned author of the Divine Comedy and the creator of the now canonical structure of Hell.

Primo could have had many more things in common with Dante than we expect: indeed, it is said that Alighieri was part of an esoteric cult named ‘Fedeli d’Amore’ (Loyals to Love), probably affiliated with the Templars. From there, Dante is said to have drawn inspiration for his symbolic and esoteric tales, as well as his passion for numbers.

Keep an eye on Dante, as he will eventually come back in the next chapters.

3. The ghost behind the open window.

It’s not a Ghost story without an actual ghost.

In Piazza Santissima Annunziata, there is a building, Palazzo Grifoni, that holds a mysterious detail: a window that remains open at all times, whether day or night, summer or winter. Legend has it that a woman of the Grifone family bid farewell from that window to her lover, likely Ferdinando I, who departed for war. She waited for him by that same open window throughout her life, but he never returned, dying in battle. When she passed away, the window was finally closed. However, soon after, numerous mysterious events happened in the building, to the point the residents concluded that the building was haunted by the ghost of the woman, and they have kept the window open ever since not to upset her.

But that's not all: the Ferdinando I statue placed in the square, has his face turned to look right to that window… At the very end, he finally came back to her.

4. The Boboli alchemical garden.

Boboli represents a very particular case of an alchemical garden conceived to be ‘accessible’ only to those who have a strong alchemical and esoteric knowledge. It is built as a symbolic route where you can contemplate the principles of magical and alchemical doctrine along the way. You’ll be welcomed by two fountains, placed one on top of the other: the Mose’s (it is an indoor fountain) and the Carciofo’s (artichoke). They are believed to represent the esoteric concept of “as above so below”, but the references to esoteric concepts are present along the whole garden.

Primo would have surely loved this place.

#ghost band #the band ghost #primo emeritus #papa emeritus i #papa primo #italian cities #ghost theories #Ghost band theories

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 27, Unhinged - Pt. 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of violence, human trafficking.

Word Count: 949

Previously On...: You watched some home movies of Jade in her Hydra facility. It was... disturbing, to say the least.

A/N: Rock me, rock me, rock me, Sexy Jesus! He died for our sins, you gotta believe us! Seriously, Hamlet 2 is a gem, and now this song is stuck in my head forever.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

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You and Bucky were silent as you closed your laptop. What could one say after watching a person you knew, personally, rip through a group of people as though they were wrapping paper on Christmas morning? There were no words.

After several long minutes, Bucky finally spoke. “After seeing that,” he said, “I think it’s all the more reason to make sure you don’t leave this safehouse unless you absolutely have to.”

“Yeah,” you said, devoid of all your previous fight. How could you argue with him about your safety after having seen that?

Bucky looked at you in surprise, as though he had expected you to challenge him. He nodded curtly. “Good,” he said. “Alright. We need a game plan. Did you come up with any leads about that Chloe girl that we can follow up on?”

You sighed. “Yeah,” you said, opening up a new tab in your browser. “So, Chloe mentioned her family was having money problems. I was able to figure out where her mom and step father do their banking; I thought we could take a look at their accounts, see if there’s any unusual activity that might point to them getting a share of her auction price. Then maybe we could trace the deposit back to whoever did the sale.”

“You think her parents knowingly participated in trafficking their own kid?” Bucky asked in horror. “Pocket, that’s dark.”

You avoided looking at him as you opened up a backdoor into the accounts in question. “You’d be surprised what people are willing to do when money gets involved. Not even a mother/daughter bond is immune from that kind of greed.”

 Bucky’s gaze on you was almost tangible in its intensity. “I’m sorry. It’s so hard for me to envision a mother betraying her child like that; sometimes I forget you had to live it.”

“But you told Carthage about it,” you said softly. “At the mission debrief. When she said trafficking was below our paygrade.”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky turned your chin so you were facing him. “I told her that human trafficking was something you and Nat both cared very deeply about stopping; that’s it.” He frowned. “I don’t expect you to believe me and that’s okay, but I would never divulge your past to anyone. Not when I know how few people you trusted with that information. I just wanted her to stop acting like it was some kinda game and to treat it as seriously as it deserved to be treated.”

“Oh,” you said after a moment. Something in his words rang true, but there was still the lingering doubt that he was being honest. “Don’t worry about, Barnes,” you said, studiously avoiding eye contact as you breached the bank’s security system. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

You could feel him staring at you, and you didn’t need to be looking back to envision the look he was giving you— the one that let you know he thought you were full of shit. Fortunately, he allowed your lie to pass without another word while you continued to breach the bank’s system. 

“Okay, I’m in,” you said after a moment. Bucky got up and came to stand behind you, looking at your monitor over your shoulder.

“Anything?” he asked.

You scrolled through Chloe’s stepfather’s transaction history. Liquor stores, smoke shops, some escort services. “Real classy guy,” you murmured. And then, you hit it: the night Chloe had left the club for good, there was a substantial deposit made to the account in the amount of $250,000.

“Holy shit,” you whispered. “I figured he might get a cut, but I had no idea it would be that much.”

Bucky let out a long, low whistle. “If that’s their finder’s fee, I can’t imagine what the final sale was for.” 

You were furiously copying down the depositing account’s information. “I’m going to send this info back to Nat,” you told him. “See if they can reverse-search it and find out where the money came from. Once we know the source, we might be able to break into their systems, get info on who won the auctions. Maybe some of the other girls are still alive…” Your voice trailed off. You were too jaded to allow yourself to hope you could save all of them, but if you could save even one…

Bucky began moving toward the apartment’s front door, grabbing his leather jacket from where he’d hung it on a hook.

“Where are we going?” You asked him, closing your laptop and standing up.

“We aren’t going anywhere,” he informed you as he put the jacket on. “I’m going to go have a little chat with Chloe’s stepfather, see if there’s any additional information he’d like to generously offer us. You are going to stay here, locked securely behind the door and not opening it for any reason until I get back.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the images of Jade moving through the Hydra compound, slaughtering everyone in her path rose to your mind. You nodded. “Yeah,” you said. “I’ll stay here.”

“Thank you.” Bucky released a relieved sigh, then walked over to you, kissing the top of your head. “If anything happens, call me, and I’ll head straight back. If Carthage shows up, there’s a gun in the bedside table. Aim to kill.”

“Obviously,” you told him. “I’ve only been fantasizing about it since I found out about Russia.”

“I’m being serious, doll,” Bucky said. “Now that we’ve seen what she’s capable of, I don’t want you taking any chances.”

“Yeah,” you said as you walked him to the door and opened it for him, “I was being 100% serious, too.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

[leandra-winchester]

The Tommy timeline is making me insane

We know the 911 writers are REALLY crap about timelines. I mean, just within the Eddie Begins episode there are several dates that just don't add up. I love those writers, but they can't even count to 10, lol.

Tommy was never supposed to come back, so him being in his late 20s-ish in 2005 when Chim joins the 118 was of no consequence, but now that Tommy is back, that makes it really difficult to say how old he really is.

Some people have speculated that he's 45, but I find that too old. Lou was born in Nov 1984, which makes him 39 currently. I could see Tommy being 1-2 years older than that AT MOST.

So let's say Tommy was born in early 1983 and go from there.

He would have started school at 6.5 and finished HS at 18 years old in 2001. Which means he could have joined the army that year and started training to be a helicopter pilot.

There's a program called "From Street to Seat", also sometimes called "High school to Flight School", so that is a possibility. Training would have been around 2 - 2.5 years until he'd achieved the rank of Warranty Officer and be a fully trained helicopter pilot in late 2003. After that, you have to enlist for TEN years at minimum to repay them getting you through flight school.

At that point, the US had entered the war in Afghanistan and just started the one in Iraq.

Tommy could have been stationed anywhere in the US, or been deployed to one of those countries, or at first, as a still very young officer, been deployed to an allied country like Germany. In the early 2000s, there were many bases in Germany where US soldiers were stationed, only serving short missions in Afghanistan or Iraq. So that's an option if we don't want him to be permanently stationed inside a war zone.

Now, how did young Tommy leave the army early so he ended up being a firefighter just two years later?

Well, there's always medical discharge, but if it was for any injury, him already being a member of the team (and by the looks of it no longer a probie) in 2005 is a bit tight. He'd have to recover from his injury, then apply, then be accepted, do the basic training at the academy (18 weeks) and his probie year... so yeah, that's really a very tight timeline.

Another option would have been Don't Ask, Don't Tell. Back then, army members could not be actively asked if they're gay and therefore fired for it, but if they voluntarily disclosed/confirmed it, they would be kicked out.

If he was lucky (and probably the version I'm going for in my fic), and had a very lenient superior officer, he might be offered medical discharge for depression. Usually, that can get you out of the army pretty quickly.

So, to recap:

Born between Jan/June 1983

Finished high school summer 2001, joined the army

Finished flight school in fall 2003, was deployed somewhere or in service in the US

Found out/discharged in early 2004

Started LAFD academy in summer/fall 2004

Started his probie year end of 2004

Just finished it when Chimney joined in (should be late) 2005, at now 22 years old.

Still an incredibly tight timeline, and I wish Chim joining had been more like 2007 or so, but alas. It works.

You are welcome.

And I need to lie down. God I hate inconsistent timelines, lol.

Oh and I just looked it up, and apparently you're only a probie for 6 months at the LAFD, so I guess that makes it a little easier.

I mean, if you shift things around a little, you could even make him only 40 now, born in summer 1983 instead of early. Maybe he was initially gifted and able to enroll in school at just barely 6 years old.

#Tommy Kinard #911

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

I know you are tired of being reminded of the whole mess that’s been going on. I had no idea what was going on until foxyanon told me cause I asked. The shock that went through me when I was reading ems post. I was decent friends with bel and interacted a lot with her. Had no idea how vile those bloggers are, just damn right disgusting and rude. But I told em as well that I have nothing to do with what’s her face. I’m always here for you! This fandom needs some serious work done and rethinking. I’m screaming the biggest f you to her! I love your content even though I don’t say anything much. You’re wonderful and deserve better! 💗💗

Thank you for reaching out, and treating me like a human being. It is more than I currently deserve. I will place the rest of my response beneath a cut, as it will be quite long and I'd like to give people the option to scroll past, as they are doubtless tired of all of this, and rightly so.

Yes, the behaviour of that group is despicable, but I cannot downplay the gravity of my own in that.

I had a longstanding block with two users (I am not going to use their online nicknames, I do not deserve to), arcielee and sylasthegrim, I said disgusting things about both of them - the screenshots of my messages regarding them both on the post you have doubtless all seen are real (so is the final screenshot where I mention an anon I had received telling me to die in my sleep, the rest of the screenshots in that post have been falsified, doctored or snipped heavily out of context to make them appear hateful - the doctoring has been confirmed by two individuals well versed in Photoshop)

I hold my hands up and apologise to both those people, and the people that have seen those messages and been harmed by them. They are inexcusable, indefensible and were guided by a false belief that those two people were being hateful in turn about me, and actively going out of their way to harm and spite me. I am unsure what Bel thought she had to gain by exacerbating the animosity between me and Em and those two women, regardless, we should have done the mature thing and reached out directly to them. I will say, that I have never once sent anonymous hatred to either person. The extent of my vitriol was confined to that group chat.

Bel also used slurs in the group chat (I would like to point out that myself, Em and Fae did not). I won't repeat what these were. I do not want those ugly words on my page. They made me uncomfortable and I called her out any time she used one in particular, but she always laughed off my discomfort and carried on anyway. She is mixed race, I am white, in my mind it is not my place as a white person to tell an ethnic minority what is racism and what isn't. There are enough white voices shouting down others in online spaces. I know better now. I should not let my own discomfort silence me. I will call out hatred, bigotry and discrimination in every instance that I see it. My past inaction is embarrassing, it's offensive and I am devastated by the hurt I have caused to others. I am so deeply sorry.

I didn't speak up for a long time, because I have seen what these people are like when they have a grudge against someone. It's frightening, I was a coward. Yet despite staying silent on all of it, I have been doxxed just the same. I suppose perhaps that's karmic retribution?

I appreciate that people have felt my response has been lacking, however, I was out of the country, away from home, from the 14th until the 22nd, with only my phone at my disposal and with the expectation from my husband that I would enjoy the vacation we were on, and not be online dealing with all of this.

I would like the opportunity to atone for my behaviour, to make amends. Currently, I feel I am not going to be given the opportunity to do that, and understandably so. Emotions are high, people are raw from what they have learned and they do not feel comfortable being around me.

Seeing the screenshots of the people in their group passing around my personal photos and saying incredibly vile things about my appearance triggered a lapse with the eating disorder that I am in active recovery for. I then had another a few days later. I need to take some time away to get myself well, as the fear and anxiety of all of this is taking its toll. I also need the space to deal with the legal action I will be exploring with regards to Chris having doxxed me. I am not running away. I simply need to get myself into a space where I am stable enough to handle all of this, be accountable, and take responsibility without my own emotions diminishing other people's.

I know people hate me right now, but it pales in comparison to how much I hate myself. I am so very sorry for allowing this to happen.

#asked and answered

[sonic-fankid-showdown]

Poll 27, Round 1.

About Pacífica: (by @saku0115) Pacifica the cat is a 15 years old teenager, she grew up in a safe city being raised only by her mother, she only hears from her father through the letters he regularly sends her at home, even though she has never physically met her father and he lost the genetic lottery, she is the spitting image of him in both good and bad ways. she dreams of going around the world like her father does, but she doesn't because she loves her mother too much to leave her alone and she knows that she doesn't want him to become her father, although she doesn't know why. She has the ability to change shapes at will and practices magic. with these two abilities she occasionally goes on adventures pretending to be someone else, clearly nothing bad could happen.

About Midnight: (by @kristhesheep) Neo supposedly created Midnight to be a powerful and worthy successor, despite caring for them like one would a normal child. Shadow, truthfully, wasn't an active party in their creation. Midnight is a very formidable foe, between the Chaos manipulation abilities from Shadow's biodata and the technology copied from Neo's own body, including the shape shifting. Midnight is known to be surprisingly polite despite their intense stare. They rarely start fights, though they'll finish them quickly when provoked. They're very protective of those they're close to and very curious. Neo sometimes brought them stargazing when they were very new, so they have a nostalgic appreciation for astronomy. When they get more independence, they eventually become a habitual traveler. They always stay close with their extended family, though. They rarely talk to strangers, having a quiet and distant nature, but they will sometimes watch people from afar, also being very curious. So the general populace thinks of them like a cryptid.

#pacífica the cat #midnight the android #round 1 #sonic fanchild #sonic fankid #sonic fankid showdown #sonic oc #sonic the hedgehog #sth