#don't have much to say about this piece. i think my brain stopped working halfway through

[wasyago]

being dead is not an excuse to walk around with blood all over your face

[littleladymab]

OC Kiss Week - Rain

So like I knew I was doing the official prompts out of order, but I hadn't realized that I wrote them down out of order on my doc. So anyway, Rain is day one for me!

Requested by @jadeoxfordrose and @citadelofswords! Love and miss these kids :') I don't think this is "what the ghost" verse, but it is the same setting that I alluded to in my SlumberZine piece!

Theo belongs to Jade 💞

+++ 

The rain is completely unexpected and Davey doesn’t know how to take this change in plans into consideration.

“C’mon,” Theo urges, nudging him with their elbow and then smacking him in the chest with something. “Date’s not over yet.”

Startled, Davey catches whatever it is against his chest and looks down to find an umbrella. “There is no way you planned this,” he says, and Theo’s grin is more than enough to make up for the interruption.

“Nothing catches you off-guard when you’re always prepared,” they tease. “Now are you going to open it up or are we going to keep huddling here?”

They’re under the awning of a hardware store, caught halfway between the cafe they had lunch at and the park with the pop-up exhibit that was supposed to be part two. People hurry past, many caught as unaware as Davey was by the sudden downpour.

Davey obliges, since he’s the taller of the two, and holds it expertly over both of their heads as Theo presses in against his side. “The exhibit isn’t going to be open in this weather.”

“That’s true…” Theo’s voice trails off, and Davey hopes that he isn’t imagining the disappointment in it. “We’ll have to cut the date short then.”

“I suppose it just means that I have to see if you’re free next Thursday and if we’ll be able to catch it before it closes,” Davey chimes with as much enthusiasm he can muster.

“Ah,” Theo says and laughs. “A literal rain check, hmm?”

“They call it that for a reason.”

They laugh again. “Yeah, next Thursday is fine.”

“Good. Good! Alright then. Wow, a second date before the first is even finished—” Davey cuts himself off with his own laugh as Theo playfully shoves his shoulder. “Shall I walk you to the bus stop?”

Theo loops their arm through Davey’s to ensure the umbrella is covering as much of them as possible. “I’d like that.”

His brain short-circuits at the gesture before his expression melts into a probably quite stupid grin. “After you, then.”

It’s not until they’re halfway down the block that Davey’s brain finally does catch up with the situation and he wonders that since he lives nearby, should he have asked Theo to come over? Or would that have been too forward? They’ve known each other for a year now and while this is their first date-date they’ve hung out before but just never at either of their places. It’s always been with the girls or Parker.

Putting the sudden pressure of the invitation back to his place feels like a bit much, even if it does feel a little rude since it is close by.

Once they’re beneath the shelter of the bus stop, Davey shakes out the umbrella and folds it up to hand back to Theo. They take it without comment, still going on about the rude customer that Merril had to deal with earlier in the week.

“I wanted to punch him,” Theo finishes vehemently.

“I’m surprised Merril didn’t,” Davey confesses and they snort.

“It was a near thing.”

Davey opens his mouth, about to ask when is the next time that Theo and Merril are working and maybe he’ll stop by to see them both but secretly it will be a chance to take Theo out after they get off and well maybe he should ask Merril and make it a surprise— But then the bus rolls up to the stop and they have to dance out of the way to avoid the water splashing up onto the curb.

Theo already has their bus pass in hand and has a moment when the other people at the stop file on and off. They look like they’re also about to say something, but in the end, they square their jaw like they’ve made up their mind.

“Text me when you get home,” Davey says for a lack of anything better to say. He shuffles the few paces closer to the bus in time with Theo and the line. “And we’ll plan for next week. Well, after I check the forecast.”

“Make a back-up plan if it does,” Theo says, then just before they can step out from under the awning to board the bus, they whirl around and press a kiss to Davey’s lips and the umbrella into his hands.

Davey’s so startled he’s barely able to catch the umbrella but utterly fails to return the kiss as Theo does the mad dash through the rain into the bus. “Wait,” Davey says, holding out the umbrella.

“Keep it,” Theo laughs as they swipe their pass, hair clinging to their cheeks and their shoulders drenched. “Give it back to me later.”

The last thing Davey sees as the bus driver decides he’s not one of the oncoming passengers and closes the doors in his face, is Theo’s silhouette waving to him.

Davey is still standing there, clutching the umbrella in both hands, chilled to the bone and more wet than not as the wind shifts the rain into every crevice of the stop. But there’s little pinpoints of warmth against his jaw from their fingers, and his lips from theirs.

Finally, a buzz in his pocket jolts him back to his senses, and he checks his watch to see a message from Kari about pizza soon, and Davey pops open the umbrella.

Right, he thinks, giddy in a way he hasn’t been in years. Maybe an invitation back to his place next time wouldn’t be so bad. He can make dinner for them after the exhibit.

Davey spins the handle of the umbrella and heads to the crosswalk, grinning.

[dyrewrites]

WiP Questionnaire

Tagged by @winglesswriter (hello new fren!) here

I am taggin @rowanmgrey-author and YOU

--Big Post Coming Through--

Answering for "Before Deluca"

What was the first part of your WIP that you created?

->This<- which became the introduction/beginning of the first chapter. Most of it was wildly altered...but it's why I have a 130k words of novel now.

If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

It's not much for a theme song, but for some reason my brain says this one;

What are your favorite characters that you made? Why?

Lucient is the favorite of this WiP, it should be Ludovico/Deluca (who is telling the story) but it's not. I love him too but Lucient's just so much fun to write and more complex than he initially seems. Also he's bratty but loving and earnest and just...he just wants this man, ok. Forever, only him. And I love it.

What other pieces of media do you think your fan base would share?

Honestly, no idea. My brain cannot wrap around the idea of a fan base for anything I've done. Just does not compute.

What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP?

Getting the two main characters to stop making me write sex scenes. I kid (it's a problem I don't really mind) but the biggest struggle has been the real world setting and how much of it I want to replace with the magic I've injected into it. Historical fantasy is one thing, but it's more Alternate Earth at this point and my brain gets angry when it has to conform to rules it didn't create.

Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

Unfortunately not. They wouldn't be safe around the main cast. There are vampire who behave like animals, and by that I mean they wholeheartedly believe they are dogs due to abuse and mind-control and it isn't pretty. So...no animals, I am sorry. At least not yet, there may be a cat at some point (I tend to put them in everything).

How do your characters get around? (Ex. Trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

A great big ol' sailing ship that begins with the name La Lune Royale but gets another one later. She is very beeg and covered in magic. When landbound, they use carriages, coaches, a train here soon, and eventually a car (maybe, I dunno if either of them should be trusted with such a thing).

What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

The time-skip that takes them through the rest of their first century together and into their second (and final). So...halfway point? You will recall the 130k I mentioned at the top, yes? Help me.

What aspects (tropes, maybe) of your WIP do you think will draw people in?

The vampires probably, and the romance, and maybe the magic? I dunno. It gets weird and doesn't seem to follow some of the tropes expected of this genre...I write weird vampires.

What are your hopes for your WIP?

To have it done by the end of the year would be neat, like done done, published and all.

->blank questions under cut<-

What was the first part of your WIP that you created?

If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

What are your favorite characters that you made? Why?

What other pieces of media do you think your fan base would share?

What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP?

Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

How do your characters get around? (Ex. Trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

What aspects (tropes, maybe) of your WIP do you think will draw people in?

What are your hopes for your WIP?

[galadae]

.

these days every time i start on an art idea for myself that's more than a sketch i just get this weird fear that it will suck, or i stop halfway through because the amount of work i need to put in for it to be as good as i imagine is more than i feel like handling at the moment. i haven't done a legit illustration that i put effort into (as in multiple concepts and serious thought about composition, value thumbnails, color thumbnails, etc) in about a year, and i still haven't done all those action pose studies i promised myself i'd do way before that. the point of those at the time was for my webcomic which I no longer have any interest in finishing bc it's just too much right now. but all that to say i keep trying to make things and finding myself lacking when i had all these cool art plans for this year.

like. it's the middle of january, i have plenty of time, i don't need to worry about this. i'm just. annoyed that i still have baby fears about some parts of art despite being confident in many aspects of it.

i just want to get back whatever my brain was on when i did 2 major zine pieces and three 15+ page comic chapters in a year while working my other job. like that's definitely the reason I was burnt out, but. If I could get a fraction of that back I think I'd manage my creative energy better now. If I can pool my knowledge together and shake all the dust off I can make so much cool stuff. I just. I'm realizing that I want to update my portfolio and I don't have any recent personal pieces that feel up to the same level of effort as the stuff already in it. So I want to make stuff I'm really proud of this year, if I can. I just have to be patient with myself, which is possibly more of a challenge than doing action pose studies.

[dreambones]

A game I would love to make one day is one with these two as protagonists, they make me so happy and it’s always a joy to think how would they react to certain scenarios and what would they do if this and that. I even have a game idea written down with a plot and side characters and a whole new setting outside their origins as fan characters for CDDWTD.

But this past year I’ve grown to be wary and kinda scared of fandoms.

(My thoughts are under the cut, you don't have to read them, but I decided to post this because I am tired of tiptoeing around)

The only thing stopping me from making this game is that I love Luka and Goldie, they mean lots to me, and I know what can happen if they get attention and become "popular".

People will ship Luka and Goldie romantically and fully ignore Ditzy and Goldie are partners (even if is stated in the game and it's an important part of it). I've seen it over and over again, people ignoring the female character and favoring mlm relationships even if there are other canon mlm in the story. Even if they are not straight, the male-female couple gets torn apart.

Goldie being asexual and not interested in sex will be ignored and not respected.

Ditzy will get turned into a bitch, eye candy, and/or just seen as a sexy character with nothing else going on with an empty head.

I don't even dare to add Bebe to the imaginary game, what would they do to her or Soda.

To see them all squished into infinite AUs where half of them are just new ways to hyper-sexualize them and anything else about them is irrelevant (and I am aware of the contradiction of me saying this as someone that makes adult content on the side, but that's a topic for another day).

I would love to work on a game with characters that I adore and make me so happy to work with, but I don't want to see them butchered and pieced together by strangers that just want a new "blorbo" that has nothing to do with the original content.

It is scary and frustrating to feel no one cares about the original content, it's just about making AUs and using the characters as playthings.

Don't get me wrong, AUs can be fun! I like to imagine some of my stories as AUs sometimes, what would happen if it was a film, or what if they traded personalities, maybe in this one they are pirates. But if you have been in fandoms for a while, you have seen what AUs I am talking about above.

I know it's not all fans and not all fandoms, but it does feel like it's more often now than before, sometimes the original content is not even halfway done when it reaches popularity and there are already a thousand AUs tearing it apart to mold it into different things far from the original.

I can’t make games where I am not attached to the characters, I tried that with Jake, but eventually, I had to give him something that made me want to work on the project because I can't work on something I am not passionate about, that makes my brain tic and excited to push forward.

Making games makes me happy, making stories and seeing the characters come to life is amazing and I don't want to stop creating out of fear, but right now I don't know how to create while finding a safe place for the characters and stories I care so much about and that could make someone else happy.

So yeah, this has been in my head for a while, and I know I will step on a couple toes with this, but I'm a bit tired of walking on eggshells and life is too short to live wary of everything I do and say and think about. You don't have to share my thoughts, nor agree, but this is what's been in my mind. Maybe one day I'll find a way to make Luka and Goldie game, I would love to, but maybe today is not the day.

[thenewblackcanvas]

just a room away

18+ • drabble • yunho • pt. 1 • pt.2 • pt.3  • pt.4

you’ve avoided all contact with yunho since the night of the storm.

you haven’t even spoken to your friend much. you weren’t close to begin with but you’ve taken on an opposite shift to her at the store whenever possible. she’s a little perplexed but doesn’t question it.

with the stress you've accumulated lately, you decided to take a break and go to a small spa just outside of town. however, if you had bothered to even speak to her for one moment you wouldn’t have been caught off guard by what happened next.

“y/n?”

his voice stops you as you’re leaving the small restaurant in the lobby and going back to your room. “y/n, wait!” the shock on your face only lasts a moment before continuing to walk. he catches up to you, hopping into the elevator before the doors can close. you don't say a word. he furrows his brows as he looks at your stoic profile. lips turning up in amusement and confusion. you were being strange to him. was this a game? as the doors opened, he was still close behind. the closer you got to your room the angrier you got. stopping in front of your door you spin around “Why are you following me”

however he was no longer right behind you. “I was going to ask how you knew where my room was”

sure enough, his keycard opens the door diagonal to yours.

“fuck” you murmur, before going into your room and shutting the door.

•

about an hour passes of your uneasy thoughts. the thought of him is crowding your mind despite your peaceful getaway. his close proximity is the cause of the intensity and you quickly convince yourself there's a way to alleviate the pressure in your head and your core.

You knock on his door wanting to assert some kind of line but the moment he opens the door your brain empties of any coherent thought. as you close the door behind you he starts trying to speak seeming to have begun piecing together why you were cold to him but you stop him by getting close to his face. you hover over him as he sits halfway on his bed. the stance has him quiet, fully pushing back onto the bed. “this trip is to relieve my stress. I’m not here to talk to you.” the way you emphasize talk makes him furrow his brows in confusion but you're getting onto the bed lowering your face close to his waist before he can think of a response.

the position you're in makes his mouth water in an instant. face down with your ass up while your hands move to stroke him through his pants. he breathes out with a stutter at the feeling but can't hold back a low groan when you kiss his cock through the fabric. 

he has to admit, he loves seeing the nervous, doe-like side of you where he works you up and takes charge, admiring how small you are compared to him but this…he doesn't have words for this. when you start to tug down his sweats you finally look up and make eye contact. for some reason he gets bashful, his cheeks tinging pink as he lifts his hips for you to pull his pants down to have his cock. he looks away, before you bring your lips down on him. the experience of you kissing his tip gently isn't one to revel in because you take him half way into your mouth immediately after. you try to pace yourself, the feeling of him partly in your mouth and in your hand a little more than intimidating but more than that it's also empowering. you want to make him feel a fraction of what you did then leave him to fester in his questions and confusion. the feeling spurs you on taking him faster as your head moves rhythmically. you hear him mutter ‘shit’ under his breath. you pull back to let him glimpse your wet lips. the look in your hooded eyes makes him want to reach out but you move away from his hand before lowering back onto him, taking him farther than before, gagging at your overexcitement. he tries to ease you back with a hand on your face but you push it away as you continue to take him. you can't take him too far, filling the slack with your hand. you aren't well versed in this but you've wanted to try something. You pull back slightly to allow yourself some reprieve before swallowing. his hips stutter immediately.

you smile the bit you can at his reaction as you suck a bit more before doing it again. he subconsciously grabs the sheets under him. you don't give him a second to think, going almost on autopilot. you pull back for a breath, swirling your tongue around his tip before taking him again. the feeling of him getting closer makes you want to bring him there. the way he had you feeling the past few weeks has been maddening. you remember this, digging the nails of your free hand into the tops of his thigh. he hisses, making a move like he's going to grab your hair but wills his hand right back to gripping the sheets. right when you hear his rushed 'im going to fucking cum' you pull back to just the tip, sucking like a lollipop until you feel the tension reach a peak. as he freezes, you bring your other hand to cup partly over his tip, catching everything he spills out. stroking him through his release gives you a rush. you smile happily at the rush of power that is tingling you all over. reeling in your smile, you sit up to look down at him, getting close to his face again before wiping your cum covered hand down his shirt. 

the moment you get up to leave is almost a win. almost.

but before you can fully crawl off the bed he tugs you back, handling you much like a doll into place between his legs. “where are you going tiny?”

you're lost for words at having lost control over him that quick. he'd admit he was stunned but the sight of you moving to leave knocked his brain back to where it usually was. the robe covering you was barely doing its job anymore but he had no need for it anyway. he opened it quickly with one hand, the other holding you in place by your thigh. your whole front was exposed now as he looked down at you from over your shoulder. you'd almost forgotten his cock was still out until you felt it twitch behind you.

he lets you sit up as slips off the soiled shirt before gently bringing you back to sit against his chest. “you wanted to show off right? so I could see how good you could treat me? how good you could make me cum?” he moves your thighs apart, resting next to his. “be the one in charge even?” one arm comes across your shoulder, almost locking you in place like a thrill ride. “well tiny…” his other laying on your stomach for less than a second before moving to your core. “it's my turn again.”

he smacks your pussy, jolting you in his hold. you hear his chuckle low in your ear.

“I thought this was a relaxing trip for you but instead you started a game you cant finish.” right as he stopped talking his hand slid quickly between your slit. the wetness there made the grin on his face grow. “but don't worry, i can.” he unleashed a speed you hadn't expected as he toyed with your clit. you scream out before trying to silence yourself. he rubbed and pinched, occasionally moving to smack again. the fire in your stomach was growing by the second. his arm holding you released to play with your breasts. his tight hold still keeping you from moving away but fingers playing with your nipples to add to the spreading warmth all over your body.

shamefully, the moment you let go came with two words you don't think he meant to say. “my baby”

the admiring and lustful words flung you over the edge without a parachute. you swore you stopped breathing for a second. when it was finally over you had to seal his hand between your thighs to get him to stop. you hadn't realized you were shaking a bit until he was whispering, “it's alright, you're alright”, while trying to close your robe over your breasts. when your thighs fall open as you exhale, your brain slowly starts working normally again.

you gently remove his hands from you and move off of the bed. you don't see his face of disappointment and confusion as you get up. “i'm good. i just have to leave before i fall into a delusion again. goodnight.”

he’s taken aback as he watches you leave

his sleepless night turns into a contemplative morning before finally going to knock on your door. But as he opens his own he sees yours is wide open, the maid already making your bed.

pt.6 series masterlist

[elvendorx]

i just dug up your posts about J&S and their dynamic on their own and within the Marauders four and I am simple enamored with everything you say, i would read a whole essay if you had one <333

also can i get 5 and 44 for the ask game?

Ahh thank you so much, I decided a while ago to post what I enjoy so it's nice that it resonates! I have lot of drafts and also some asks that are long overdue responses (my mind's a mess so they take a while to structure coherently but if you’ve ever sent me an ask, I'm not ignoring it I'm just incredibly slow!) so maybe those will do instead of essays?? (although I can’t control my word counts so maybe they’ll feel like essays💀)

Also I just realised you wrote Benefits which I loved! <33

5. What are your fanfic pet peeves? Do they have a huge effect on whether or not you decide to read something?

This is lowkey tough. I don’t have too many pet peeves so much as things I don’t agree with but that I can skim over. Things that I flat-out won't read (mainly ships, and cis mpreg) are things I filter out anyway, I’m good at knowing what won’t work for me by now. It always comes down to characterisation for me, as soon as I stop believing in or recognising the character, I’m out. I do feel like I’m super picky with small things so I try to breeze past things that don’t hugely matter.

Like I often cringe at the way people write house-elves that aren’t in the series, especially house elf names? This is petty of me but “Tippy” and “Tiffy” make my skin crawl. Again, am I just being a mean pedant, but the names of house-elves in the series have harsher consonants - Hokey, Kreacher, Winky, Dobby. I also don’t really like reading about the Potters as having a house-elf because as much as they were rich and pureblood, they were clearly not part of the pureblood elite and I think they’d deviate from the more antiquated, traditional aspects of old wizarding families. In my head Fleamont and Euphemia are old rich hippies but it’s not really a make-or-break.

Dialogue can make or break a fic for me, and dialogue that is just there for the plot and doesn’t take on any traits of the person speaking it is something I struggle to stick with - again that’s characterisation, I struggle with OOC stuff but I also struggle when the characters are like, fine, but essentially blank slates who I wouldn’t recognise if I didn’t know who they were supposed to be. 

44. Rant about something writing related.

God, my main writing rants are at myself. Like when I find something I wrote years ago (because I didn't write basically anything between 2017-2021) and I'm like "ooh this is good!" and I've left it halfway through a crucial sentence and because it's been years I can't remember where it was going and I have to abandon it because I don't have the mental room for another WIP right now. But also sometimes these pieces are helpful and fit into other things I’m working on, so swings and roundabouts.

And also just the way I write which is random scenes as they come to me, which I think isn’t an uncommon way to write but I would like it if I made it easier for myself and had a brain that could write chronologically. And I also wish I didn't forget the scenes/sentences I think of on public transport or when I'm in bed about to fall asleep.

More generally, I think the attitude towards writing in fandom needs recalibrating. Writing is a skill, editing is an important part of writing. Within fandom I think you should write for yourself, put what you want to see out there, but at the same time if you rush it and immediately publish it and then get upset that you haven’t had as much engagement as you’d like then maybe just take more time with your work, spend time with it, edit even if it’s just one word or letter at a time. Knowing where you’re headed also immediately makes your work more cohesive because I feel like it’s very clear when a writer has absolutely no idea and just wants to get the first chapter out there for the validation of it, or when a work jumps from one point to the other with no real character journey to get there and like yeah, the release at the end is great but the pay-off is better with the build-up. If it’s for fun and you don’t care, go for it, but I think there’s a lot of entitlement in writing these days that is unsustainable.

[vvatchword]

If left to my own devices, I tend to get up in the early afternoon. Today was no different. I stepped outside and I took a big breath and I got real high and I thought at the top of my brain,

"what's going on"

For the dog was barking and I detected a weird noise under that.

I followed the dog's barking and found my poor freaking mother lying on the floor.

She's not very heavy, but it's awkward trying to pick her up, and i have some old back injuries, so I ran to tell my father that I needed help.

"I need to do paperwork!" he said.

My friend. Can you even halfway understand the blinding all-consuming rage that blew over me then? I briefly lost all connection to my corporeal form and became a being of pure, unadulterated fury. If my dad hadn't been on the other side of the door, I would have slapped the fuck out of him. The only reason I didn't say the most brutal shit you ever heard was because at least four different possibilities came up at once and got stuck in my throat. What did come out was a strangled, half-screamed, "SHE FELL on the FLOOR," and in my words were threats of every very real abuse being spoken out loud where my father can't bear to hear them. (For it is better to appear good than to be so, and as long as they aren't said, he can pretend any number of things about himself.)

My god. I can abide almost every form of abuse with a smile, but lying and cowardice turn me into the fucking devil.

I could tell my scream rattled him, because he came straight out and cared very much. Mom cried only when he showed up. This disgusted me further. Wasting her tears on this piece of shit.

I have been ignoring the job hunt for some time, losing myself in writing and non-stop Best of the Worst episodes, but the idea of relying any more on my father's money fills me with a transcendental rage past reckoning. His kind of love is so careless, so smooth and undifferentiated--like a child's love. He wants to be filled and treated and petted, but he is unwilling to do the same for others. In short, he wants the objects of his love, and he wants the fruits of their love for him, but he doesn't want the work. He's an empty pit we keep throwing treasures into.

When he says he loves you, he really means it, but he doesn't want to do what's right for those he loves. To do what's right for other people, you have to be able to empathize with them--to understand what they really want and need, especially when those wants and needs are completely alien to your own. He can't do that, and what's more, he can't learn, and even more than that, he doesn't want to, and as icing, he has never been able to face his own shortcomings.

Anyway.

Yes. The dog got a treat.

Her treatment of my father makes me wonder how much she picks up on. She will fight him when he puts my mom to bed and if he's lying down she'll tromp over him as hard as she can. She never fights me and if I'm lying in his space, she will politely wait for me to move.

The dog has my back, at least.

In other news, I watched Nicholas Nickleby (2002) and Glass Onion. Exceptionally good films. I think I've watched more movies in the past two months than I have in the past three years combined. I kinda hate it, tbh. Either a film is awesome and worth it or it isn't and I'm impossibly bored. It can't just be good looking. It's got to have something smart or personal (to me) going on.

My father has a predilection for animated children's films, which nine times out of ten are like nails on a chalkboard to me, but I usually end up hanging in there for mi mamá.

That's how I ended up rewatching Kung Fu Panda. I started thinking about how Kung Fu Panda set off the creative community in China--don't quote me, and feel free to correct me, but I believe they were astonished something so good could be produced by Westerners--and of course, I had initially watched it and been like, ho hum whatever babby show be urself. So I watched it a little closer and dredged up what I knew of Chinese philosophy (it's been a hot minute). It ended up being kinda nice for me.

Also, characters being out of their elements and getting fired and shit has been good for me in a whole new way. I watched Candy Cane Lane with Eddie Murphy and I mean. Not completely vacuous, very cute other than the cheap-ass CGI, very serviceable, and least they tried something new and I appreciate that. But what got me was: his character got fired!!! And that's what I carried with me for the whole film for some reason. I just needed the Bob Cratchitts this holiday season. You can guess why. Just trying to make sense of myself, I guess. Where can I fit in? Can I ever work again? I can't even keep a sensible sleep schedule.

I've got to do something. Can't leave Mom unsupported.

[nessie665]

🖇🔍 📝 🗃 📓 📒

I want to know everything basically

🖇 What subjects or themes recur in your works?

As in WIPs I'm working on now, I'm going to say pinning and the desire to change, not always to be better, but to be something different and new.

🔍 What's been your biggest challenge in writing so far?

It doesn't matter how good of a day I'm having, the language barrier is always going to be a bitch. Maybe one day my brain is gonna do effortlessly what it now takes a massive amount of energy and concentration to do.

📝 What inspires you to write?

Chaos. The wonderful thing of writing is that when my brain is all messy, writing allows me to clean that mess, almost like taking out the clutter of my head and placing it on goggle doc. A sorcery indeed.

🗃 How many wips/projects are you currently writing?

Oh man, the thing with what I just said is that the mess is still there, no longer in my brain but on my docs, lets' see

-Spy x Phantom: I'm currently working on chapter 7 now, which may be the last, as I'm not sure if I'm planning to slice the story intro several works or just do one massive work.

-You are not a robot: my fnaf sb prequel/au, I'm only one chapter left to finish it. I'm so excited, there are plans for a sequel, but with the movie and new games coming out soon, the change in the canonical implications is making me back off a little.

-Coal to diamond, sold to fools:, listen, this was an iwtv holiday fanfic, for the 2022 season, it may be ready for the next one. Tbh, the problem is that I was never really sure what I wanted to do this one. Maybe once I figure it out it will be a piece of cake to write the rest, but until then, the at least 3 different versions for the next chapter are resting on the drafts.

Nothing new: now this one is actually new. It's a one maybe two shot inspired by the song of the said name, and it's about Christine struggling to keep up with her unexpected rise to fame and her teacher’s sudden apathy after the bistro, I had an idea of where I was going, but halfway it turned intro smut, and oh my god, how did that happen *scandalize gasp*

📒 Do you have any favorite characters to write?

Christine has just been really speaking to me lately, she used to be a tougher nut to crack in the past, so I'm thrilled about this development we are having

📓 What was the last sentence you wrote?

This took me so long to answer that the actual, well, answer has changed several times now, as in right now it's:

''She could taste the warmth of her skin, dreamt of the movement of her hips on her thigh, her hip bone under her fingers. Christine would think of name after name, look intro the folklore of her childhood, trying to find a way to call the angel that haunted her nights, to stole her name to keep her by her side.''

A little longer than a sentence, but I just don't know where to stop, those are 101 facts about me.

Thank you so much for you ask, hon. Your interest in my little disillusions is really flattering. <3

[dzpenumbra]

3/7/23

I.... lost another day today.

I had plans, I had momentum. I woke up at a decent hour considering how bad my sleep cycle is. I did yoga, I meditated for the first time with my new mala. I made breakfast. I showered. My plan was to work on the last stone piece today, and I was going to shower first. When I got out of the shower, my mom texted me about money.

She texted me about the car payment situation, looking for an update on the rental car situation from last Friday. If you don't know about it, look it up on here, I'm not recapping, it's way too complicated. I called her and asked directly what information she's looking for. It isn't a thing I can really... sum up in a text. This turned into her correcting nearly everything I said for well over 3 hours straight. No exaggeration. I did everything I could to stay calm, to stay civil, to explain clearly what was happening in front of me. It just... she wouldn't fucking stop. She came to me looking for information... and then corrected everything that came out of my mouth.

I told her halfway through (at around the 3 hour mark) that we were like baking soda and vinegar. That if she was going to take an opposing stance on everything I say, it will ONLY result in conflict, because she is being oppositional. This woman is knocking on the door of her early 70's soon. And I'm explaining to her... that if you decide, for some reason, to take a directly oppositional stance to everything that someone is saying... and reject everything that they are saying... that you... can't really expect to have a healthy conversation. Like... it pains me how my family has normalized this so much that they genuinely don't understand how it's even bad.

I explained the difference between discussion and debate. I explained that fighting someone who is... not fighting you back... is... well.. imagine a boxing match... where the other person isn't fighting back... and the fight wasn't agreed upon... then replace the punches with words and emotions. That's... not good. I think we can all piece together what that is...

Somehow the conversation went over to my career. Again. Somehow it went to me having to make a stand defending my life's work. Again. Somehow she expressed how my career support was on borrowed time. Again. Which, I guess... are... deflections? And threats? I don't know. It feels like... low blows or something. Like... what the fuck does this have to do with the bill for my rental car? That I was swindled into, by some predatory service people at a car dealership. That we've known about for months. Now that the car is gone... you check in with me 3 days after the incident where you leaked my address to these people, so they literally showed up at my apartment building unannounced on a Friday morning. And decided to not just not show any concern for how this affected me... but... somehow find ways to fault me for it?! To make me the bad guy? To put my entire life under a magnifying glass? Fucked up shit, man. And I'm sorry, I'm tired of covering for this. I'm tired of hiding this behavior. Whenever I go into situations like this, I try really hard to act as though I have an audience, as though I'm in broadcast-mode. Like I'm writing here, basically. And I have a lot of practice with that. And this mode is hardly censorship whatsoever, in fact it's nearly flawless stream-of-consciousness, which I'm very proud of. It's taken a while to be able to develop the skill of brain dumping this fluidly. The only edits that really come out are if I'm really going to... put someone's personal identity out there? Which I don't really feel right about. And often when I'm talking about work that someone else is doing or should be doing in therapy, and their reasoning behind it. And I say - that's their story to tell. And I stand by that. So it's less censorship, and more... not telling a story that's not mine to tell. And the name-censoring, more for respect of those who don't consent to being talked about here. So... I really keep that in mind in all of my interactions now. Act like you're being recorded, act like you're broadcasting, but be yourself and be honest. And it has done good things for me, and I leave most of these toxic conversations with very few regrets. The only real regrets are usually... that I stayed in the conversation that long... that I lost so much for so little gain.

So... why did I stay? Let me put it this way. That car bill... it's... gonna be more than the amount of cash I have in my account. It's going to be... several times more. And I currently do not have any source of income. And my mom, who has pledged to financially support me via the family business as I build my art career... she hasn't spoken to me since she screamed at me and hung up on me the night before the car was repossessed. This bill will not just financially devastate me, it will put me into pretty serious debt. Debt that I have no plan whatsoever to pay off. And I live alone in a city where I know no one, and no resume or work history for the past 7+ years. So... kinda in my best interest to not storm off because of an emotional outburst. Kinda not really in my best interest... survival-wise. It kinda feels like being stranded in the woods and getting pissed off that one of your granola bars went stale and throwing it in a lake or something. That's a really weird analogy... um... okay, fuck analogies... My survival instincts keep me rooted in this conversation for over 5 hours... and throw away my work day... and skip dinner... and take all the horrible things she's saying and painful emotions she's bombarding me with that have nothing to do with me or my actions... because if I leave? If I get fed up and say "fuck this"? My life could legitimately be in danger. And there's good evidence behind that. Dark as fuck, right?

So... maybe my way out of all of this... is to tell this story. In a graphic novel form. Maybe that will connect with people. Or maybe I just need to find some grind job near my, shackle myself to it for a few months, grind grind grind XP until I get enough cash to... barely pay my bills? And then... that's my life? Because if I quit, I'm dead or homeless? Or hop to another one if I'm lucky?

This country is a fucking lie. And it has been for a long time. That's as political as I'm getting. I'm just... I'm angry. I feel trapped. I have a life that I can see very clearly, that I want very badly. I trained for it for over 15 years. I literally put my blood, sweat, tears, heart and soul into it, every day. It is... me. It's my soul-work. I do it every day. I have endured every single "supporter" trying insidiously to coerce me out of it, to peer pressure me into compromising my vision, to drive me off of my path. I have remained steadfast. I have remained faithful. Why? Why endure this?

This is my identity. This is who I am. This is my life. My career is not a fucking hobby, it's not a place I go to get away from my life, it's not some gig I got because I didn't know what else to do with my life. It's the way I experience life, it's a lifestyle. This career has been a culmination of every interest and passion I have had since I was a child. It's everything. This isn't "I didn't really know what to do in high school so I just figured... all my friends come to me for advice so... i decided to get a psych degree and get licensed and... here I am!" Or... "my dad worked in economics, so I just... did what he did... and I realized I liked it!" Or... "I didn't know what the fuck to do and I just got a random job one day and realized that I really liked it!" Those are all valid stories. But they are not my story. My life has been this since... as far back as I remember. I have always been this person, I have always thought differently, seen the world differently, been more sensitive, had a different perspective and been an outsider because of it, made connections that other people don't make, shared analogies that others don't understand. I have always felt uncontrollably compelled to turn those messages and images and stories into... something. To share them with others. Their importance is clearly visible to me, even when others scoff, call them nonsense and throw them in the garbage.

But I'm stuck around people who lack ambition. People who lack vision. People preoccupied with fear, self-preservation, money, sex, politics, control, shit like that. My life has been one much more of a... spiritual exploration... of the experience of life. And I grew up in a godless world. And, I say this with a lot of confidence, if I were born to a religious family, I would 100% be a preacher or reverend or monk or pastor or whatever term you have for it right now.

But because I lack... a cohesive theology... And subsequently lack a community from that... I end up here. In a world where my passions and my talents were respected throughout the entirety of human existence until... mass production... until industrialism... made people forget... how valuable it is to have someone lovingly put their soul into something specifically for you. Because I ended up in a world that is content with soul-less things, things that from raw-material harvest all the way to it ending up in your home were never touched by the hands of another human. And that may not mean much to the layman. But that means a lot to me, and I think it's more valuable now than it's ever been. Because you don't know how valuable loving, positive human interaction is... until it's gone.

I guess I know how the topic of my life purpose was brought up. I probably did it, like I did right there. Because I do that when I feel like my life is threatened. My life... of course... not being limited by my fragile meat suit that I ride in like some biomech robot or something. My life not being... my mortality. My life being... my purpose. My identity.

That was a huge change in the way that I looked at life and the soul that came after a long period of mourning after I broke up with my ex and had my first few dealings with Death. Life is more than just... mortality. A life is a story. A life is a routine. My life at 21 is not the life I have now. It's... actually strikingly similar... huh... okay, let's try that again! XD My life when I was a baker was not even close. My life at that stage was waking up at 2:30 AM, showering, going to work, keying in and disabling the alarm, putting my music on in the radio... I think with a CD? Maybe aux cable, but I think CD. I usually listened to The Great Misdirect by BTBAM. I would fire up the oven, I would prep the pastries. I would get ready for the first round of bagels. My first co-worker on morning shift would get there around 5-5:30. I'd have a good chunk of the first few rotations done by that point. Open at 6, I'd keep doing rotations as needed up until my shift ended around... 10:30 or 11? Then I'd go home. And god knows what I did with my time then because all of my "friends" locally were at work then, probably played a lot of Minecraft or watched TV or something. And I'd be in bed by 7-8PMish. That was my life. On loop. That is not even close to my life right now. That's the life of a completely different person.

So... if I look the same and have the same body... but I think different thoughts (because I've given up on my purpose), have different goals, and do different things with my time... am I still the same person? How different can it get?

When my survival, my identity... starts to be threatened - that's what I was talking about, I remember - I will defend it with all I have. I have had my dreams shattered enough times. I have given up enough fucking times. I have lost enough. I am all-in. And I will not give up until I die. Come hell or high water. In a society where I'm constantly hearing people bitch about how "people don't want to work" and "people aren't motivated" and you hear someone like me, with this level of conviction. Where you could throw me in the fucking desert with no supplies and I'd make art in the fucking sand. I would carve the stories into my skin so I could share them with others when I returned to tell the tale. And they try to convince me to drive fucking DoorDash. Go fuck yourself. Go. Fuck. Yourself. Give me fucking pep talks. Help me override my stupid mental health blockers. Encourage me. Help me write grant proposals, help me brainstorm how to talk to gallery owners and shit. Help me meet people. Help me find a connection between spirituality and art, so I can find a happy median and live in there.

I mean this so desperately severely, if I had gotten 1/8th of the effort that was put into coercing and peer pressuring me to abandon my passions into... like... brainstorming who I could talk to? Helping me find connections? Helping me with confidence and self-esteem? Just like... basic friendly supportive shit?! I might have a financially sustainable life right now. Or at least something.

If this sounds like a freak out, it's because it is. And I'm exhausted and tired of doing it.

Survival mode is... e x h a u s t i n g.

All this keeps coming out because I'm trying to communicate that when I feel my life is threatened... meaning... my lifestyle and my career... when I feel that I will have to abandon it... because my family can pull (and has in the past pulled) financial support at any time on a moment's notice... I start to explain. I explain and explain. What the fuck else am I supposed to do? Roll over and fucking die? Give up? Go fold t-shirts at the fucking Gap for $15 an hour when I have important shit to do with my life? Am I really expected to not preserve my life? To justify my life? Its importance? Its value? This seems so... intrinsic to me. If my life is threatened, I will make a strong case for it's survival. Duh.

So... maybe what I'm saying with all of this - and I keep getting distracted by tangents of going into explaining what the reflex is and why I feel that way - maybe I'm saying... It's insanely unhealthy to have to justify your existence over and over and over and over every fucking week, for years and years. To your own family. To your own "supporters". Not even your critics, your "supporters". It's like being in a department in a company that you've heard rumors for years they are just itching to liquidate. They're just waiting for you to fuck up. And every quarter, you have to prove yourself. Every week, you have to justify your department's existence. They come knocking and your head is on the chopping block, and it's on you to talk them out of executing you. It's traumatic.

And the feedback loop? The big-scale repercussions? I'm now getting really traumatically set off by the act of having to sell myself. Having to explain to others what I do, who I am. After having it repeatedly drilled into my head that I have skeptical eyes on me that do not believe me. That assume I am lying. I now... feel that when I talk to strangers. I feel it when I read my dating app profile and see "Artist at Freelance" as the job title. And I hear echoes in my head like "... yeah... " or "when's the last piece you've sold?" or "but you don't make any income". This complex did not exist pre-2021. Back then, I may not have had much confidence in my skill levels, but I never thought I was a fraud. And I never thought people thought I was lying or making excuses or bullshitting them. Now... it's hard to even meet new people. Because the first question people ask you is, "what's your name?" and the second question people ask you... "what do you do?" And it feels weird to even say or hear my real name, I do not hear it out loud very often. And it's been nearly impossible to talk to someone about my work without sheepishly avoiding eye contact and staring at the floor and shoulders going up and stumbling on my words and... I get tense and stumble over my words and feel unsafe and shit - fucking embarrassing high school level social anxiety shit. And I'm supposed to walk into a gallery, alone, with no practice... and sell them on how I'm the most hot-shit artist to grace their premises.

So, the grilling and the skepticism and the negativity... the lack of support... the lack of faith... ends up being a death by 1000 papercuts... to my self-confidence as a professional. And kills my physical capacity to even have a chance at success. It charges the electric fences that prison me. And all I've ever wanted is someone to root me on and vouch for me. To get really excited for me and pep talk me. I never really got that. Very rarely. More often than not, I got people who showed up at the end result and acted like I owed them a thank you or something.

I remember my senior show in college. My mom complimented one art piece I did that was a big step outside of my comfort zone, that was a sculpture combined with a painting, adding dimension. It was a piece about... trauma. And addictions. Being lost in the static, the noise, and being terrified, horrified. It was panic, really, like... near-catatonia. It's hard to really put into words really, it's a long story. Which leads to my main point. While I appreciated the acknowledgement, it was the most recognition and praise I got from that other than like... people signing the sign-in book like a fucking highschool yearbook with generic platitudes and shit. My bandmate and former best friend actually asked me what one of my pieces meant. And... that was... probably one of the first times anyone had ever done that. And... looking back at it... I have no idea what I told him. I have no idea if I even knew what to tell him. Because... art can be really weird like that. Like... I look at that piece that I described above? I see it in my mind's eye? And I can dissect and analyze it now... because I've had over a decade and a half to reflect on where I was in life back then, what that imagery means to me, what other pieces used that imagery, shit like that. But... a lot of the time... I don't know. I don't know at the time what a lot of my work even is about. It's just something really powerful and memorable that pops into my head and will not leave me alone. It's a concept in my head that is emphasized. <- Like that. Like a dream that you just can't let go of, that just sticks with you. But I have tons. Constantly. And they are all important. I just... don't really know why or how at the time a lot of the time. So... it can be really hard to convey that to others. Even if they do show me the incredibly kind gesture of actually giving more than 1/16th of a shit about what my work is about. It's a very important part of my work, because it leaves a huge berth of room for viewer engagement, which... is kinda the point, right? Otherwise, I'd just... keep the images in my head... Duh...

So yeah. I need to go to bed. This... shit got out of control. See what this did to my head? Like... I really don't need an existential crisis right now. I just lost my cat. I'm 100% alone, no other living being with me, for the first time since I was 19. I lost my car. I am in an apartment building in a city where I don't know anyone. And then my mom comes up and just... dumps this shit on me. Because... she's stressed again. And that stress has gotta go somewhere...

I dunno.

Therapy on Wednesday. Thank god. Stone work resumes tomorrow. No excuses, I really want to wrap that project up, I can't keep doing 5 hour beatdowns where I'm just standing in my living room staring at a wall listening to my mother tell me how she's not going to support me forever and this isn't a "blank check" or whatever. Like I'm some shitty used car they bought in 1986 and they're just now having buyers remorse.

Any... good vibes... I can dredge out of today? I watched a MrMoonsHouse stream, I like his stuff a lot, he's a great roleplay actor. He's been streaming a lot more lately. I meditated, and it went well, I just... somehow missed one of the marker beads, which I guess isn't that important. I was going to use them to switch from deep breathing to normal breathing, and it goes 9-marker-9-marker-9-done. And I missed the second marker somehow... But it wasn't a big deal. Just... building habits. Meditation was not as frustrating as its been in the past, doing it right after yoga helps a lot. It was really nice to put the mala to use, it's so beautiful and it serves its purpose very well.

I had ice cream. That was nice. That's about all the good for today.

Here's to a peaceful and prosperous tomorrow.

[jbreenr]

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale × Reader

Summary: You wanted to meet Ransom's family, he wanted to make sure you'd never want it again.

Word count: 3k.

Warning: Poorly written smut (+18 only, please), public sex (prompt 11), fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that, kids. be responsible), a bit of dirty talk, the Thrombeys being the Thrombeys. And I think that's it.

A/N: So, after finding out one of my stories was stolen an translated in Wattpad, I did not know if I should post this just yet but, what the hell? Let's do it. Anyway, this is for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817 's Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge so, happy belated birthday! Yaaay. 🥳 Hope you like this at least a little and that it's not as bad as my paranoid brain thinks it is. Also, I just love how the prompts fit perfectly together, don't you? As always, lack of vocabulary and grammatical mistakes abound. *apologizes in español*

Wheel results (just attaching evidence):

ᴹʸ ᵍⁱᶠ

Draining, tedious, exasperating. Those were some of the adjectives Ransom associated with Thrombey family reunions. He'd arrive late, have some sort of conversation with his grandfather and leave early to do whatever that took him away from that big house.

Today though, he had a reason to stay for more than half an hour.

If it was up to him, you two would have stayed at home, happy, relaxed, and most importantly, naked in his bed, having a more pleasant time than the one you were most likely about to have. 

He tried to persuade you. Of course he did! But your insistence and puppy eyes made it impossible for him to say no to your request. 

So, here you were, getting out of his car, cake in sweaty hands and an excited smile on your lips, an expression so different from Ransom's, who seemed to be ready to get back behind the wheel and drive straight to Canada.

He didn't knock; he simply opened the door and held it for you to enter. If the three floor house was imposing from the outside, you felt impressed by the inside. Extravagant sculptures, apparently expensive paintings and other kinds of pieces of art were scattered everywhere, telling you just how wealthy and eccentric Ransom's family were. 

“That's Harlan Thrombey! ” You exclaimed as you stood in front of the portrait of your forever favorite author holding a knife and a book.

“So?” Ransom asked, unconcerned.

You turned to him open-mouthed, the cake almost slipping off your palms as you went to playfully slap him in the arm.

“How come you are related to Harlan Thrombey and you didn't tell me?” Your question was more of a shock than an accusation.

The carefree gesture he did with his shoulders only accentuated his next words. “I did not think you would be interested in knowing.”

“I wouldn’t be interested?” Incredulity, flowing out of your lips. “He’s the best thriller author of all time! He’s like today’s Edgar Allan Poe!”

To say that you didn't believe him was an understatement. He knew for a fact that you liked Harlan Thrombey's books, just taking a look at the bookshelf in your apartment was proof enough of that.

“We call him grandpa here.” Said a femenine voice. A brunette walked in your direction, her pretty features hardening as she looked at your boyfriend. “Don't we, Hugh?”

He seemed to be ready to say something but decided not to. Instead he inhaled and placed his hand on your back.

“This is Y/N, the only reason I’m not telling you what you need to hear right now.”

Her eyes rolled in irritation and then turned to you. “I’m Meg. Let's introduce you to the rest of the family, shall we?.” And she dragged you to the room where more people were gathered together, discussing something, not before sending a deadly glare at Ransom.

Given the distance between you and him, you didn't listen to the heavy sigh he let out before waking behind.

“Everyone!” Meg called, making everyone leave whatever they were doing to look at her –and you, in consequence. “Meet Y/N, Hugh's new friend.” She then proceeded to introduce every single member of the family, including the housekeeper and the nurse, except for the grandfather, who apparently had a moment of inspiration and left them momentarily to put his ideas on paper.

None of them left their seat to go and shake your hand except for Meg's energetic mom, who hugged you and expressed how much she loved your coat even though it was soooo last season.

Sitting on a couch next to Ransom, you half expected someone to ask you about how you two met or how long had you been dating or what was it that you did for a living. Nothing. As fast as their attention was on you, it fell from you to their previous discussion.

You now understood why Ransom jokingly suggested deep cleaning the house instead of attending that reunion.

What you weren't aware of, Ransom thought, was that all of them were behaving wonderfully compared to previous times.

You didn't know if you felt more disappointed or uncomfortable. Ransom had left your side to go to the studio for a second and you had barely had any interaction with his family. All of them, dipped in their own matters to even notice your presence. 

Fran, the housekeeper, was kind enough to take the cake to the kitchen and offer you a glass of water, but after giving it to you, she disappeared along with Meg and the nurse. 

“So,” All at once, the room went quiet as Ransom's uncle spoke. “Have you read any of dad's books, Y/N?” Only until you heard your name was that your head snapped up.

“Oh, uhm… yeah. I'm a big fan.” Taken by surprise, you simply answered.

“Really? Which one have you read?”

And to that question, you felt suddenly included in the conversation since you had knowledge of the topic.

“I'm like fifty pages from finishing 'The Needle Game' and intrigue is eating me alive.” As you heard the excitement in your voice, you tried to compose yourself and said “Though 'Nick Of Time' is my favorite.” You smiled at him, hoping that your answer was a good one.

The woman that was introduced to you as Ransom's mother nodded as she licked her lips. The light of the fireplace, reflecting on her glasses as she moved her head up and down.

“Have you read 'Ultimatum' or 'Drop In The Pocket', dear?” Her tone was curious, but the look on her face said differently.

You responded anyway. “They're not bad. I feel like the ending of 'Drop In The Pocket' was a little vague and out of line but it can always be interpreted as an open ending so…” The change in their expressions told you that you had to add something else to that answer. Maybe it was not time for literature humor yet. “But I enjoyed both.”

She hummed and took her drink, detaching from the talk that continued with courtesy questions until it morphed into a heated discussion between Ransom's father and uncle, who would repeatedly ask for your opinion to back up his own.

The discomfort you felt, dispelled to be replaced by the disturbance of being bombarded with dozens of questions at a time, each louder than the other until they changed to a completely different topic to which you were occasionally included as a neutral point of view.

“She knows what she's talking about!” Said Richard at some point when you confirmed one of his arguments. “Thank you, dear.”

Ransom came back from his obligatory argument with his grandfather to find you nowhere to be seen. 

“She's using the bathroom.” Informed Jacob, who did not take his eyes off of his cellphone. 

Thinking that you went there to hide, he started his way to your potential direction until an overheard observation from his mother stopped him halfway through. 

“… Did you hear how she talked about dad's work? Oh, I assure you she won't make it to next week with Ransom.”

Her and Richard's backs were to him, both of them unaware that their son was listening to their share of opinions.

“And did you see her hands?” Joni joined the criticism contest. “She could use some moisturizer, I tell you.”

As usual, they ignored her attempt to fit in and kept going.

“I know it's contradictory to say this,” Richard paused, as to make his point clear. “But he could do better.”

Despite their whispering, Ransom heard every single word and was glad that you were not there to see what was about to happen… 

Ransom's words stuck on his throat when he saw you making your way out of the bathroom, fixing the skirt of your dress, with such niceness and warmth directed to him as you smiled, oblivious to the fact that the people you were trying to get to like you weren't going to. 

His parents were right. He could do better. He could determine to not see them ever again and it would be the best thing to happen to him… Besides you, obviously.

“What's wrong?” Your concern was evident, just as his annoyance was undeniable.

Cold hands caressed his cheeks and Ransom thought of going back to Joni and tell her to fuck off. Your touch was soft, comforting, and gave him the greatest idea he'd ever had.

“I want to show you something.” Was his answer. It was better if you were the one who decided to never step on that house for the rest of your lives. It didn't matter if it was out of embarrassment.

Taking your hand in his, he guided you up the stairs to the first landing. The creaking sound of the old structure, probably alerting everyone in the other room that you were going to the next floor.

“Are you okay?” The sweet giggle that you let out when he abruptly stopped, almost making him feel bad about what he was seconds away from doing. 

“Better than ever.” And he stamped his lips to yours. 

Taken aback, it took you a second to respond. Hands on each side of his face as his own explored your body. When his fingers lifted your dress to caress your ass cheeks was when you ended the kiss. 

“What are you doing?” You asked in a breathless whisper. “Not that I'm complaining.”

You were cornered against the wall with Ransom towering in front of your smaller frame.

Trying to escape from whatever he had in mind was useless, you knew that much. Though, you were not sure if you really wanted to escape.

“What I've been wanting to do ever since you got a shower without me this morning.” His lips found your jaw and descended to your neck where he sucked to create a bruise. Your eyes closed to the sensation.

“Wait. No, wait.” His fingertip that had started rubbing your still clothed bud paused it's motions as his eyes focused back on your face. “We can't do it. Not here.”

Ransom's finger went back to work, bringing a soft moan that you tried to suppress. “Why not? No one's gonna come here.” His other hand moved up your thigh to lift it. “Even if they did, they wouldn't notice.”

With an expert swing of his wrist, he moved your panties aside, letting the cold air that wandered inside the house hit you before his skilled middle finger entered you while still managing to rub your clit in circles with his thumb.

Adrenaline ran through your veins, fuel activating every nerve in your body and shaking away fear from your brain, replacing it with lust and boldness.

“I'm blaming you if we get caught.” Your hips jolted forward wanting to feel more of his hand, the contradiction between your words and actions, making him smirk.

He added a second finger. Knuckles deep and his cold ring slowly warming against the inside of your thigh, he said, “I'll take responsibility, sweetheart.” Pumping his fingers in and out, he felt your slick running down the back of his hand to his wrist, wetting his overly expensive watch and the cuff of his cozy sweater .“But I can't assure you we won't get caught.”

His words, instead of working as a bucket of cold water as one would expect, increased your need to be touched by him, the yearning for him to take you right there and then. 

“Damn it, Ransom.” One of your hands flew to his shoulder to hold onto him for dear life. “I'm close.”

“You're not cumming unless I'm inside you, pretty thing.” At what point did he unfasten his belt and unzipped his trousers, you had no idea. The friction of his digits was gone in a second but the feeling of his already leaking tip rubbing against your most sensitive parts was enough to make you forget about those trifles.

Your lips opened, ready to tell him to keep his voice down when he suddenly thrusted home, stretching you out so deliciously that you had to cover your mouth to muffle the moan that threatened to inform everyone of your current activities.

Ransom's breathing hitched. Being inside you was a dream come true, feeling your walls enveloping his cock so fucking good… it was like you were made for each other, and he was going to prove it, even if his family didn't really get to know.

His hips started moving. Back and forth, back and forth. Delicately at first, letting you adjust to his size but the second he felt you throbbing around him, he increased the pace. Little by little his pounds gained power and energy.

Your whimpers –stuck in your throat, leaving only soft snuffles that crashed against Ransom's cheek, soon became more rapid, erratic and as his fingers dug in the flesh of your thigh to keep you still while he accommodated to go even deeper you heard a creaking noise.

Your boyfriend's blue eyes met yours, his movements never faltering despite the alert given by the dark wooden floor under your feet.

There was a conflict in your head, and Ransom could tell. The way you tightened and the pleading look on your face told different stories, yet Ransom knew they had the same ending.

Shaking your head, your eyes asked him not to do it, but you knew Ransom well enough to be sure that not even begging could stop him. 

“You love it, don't you?” His smile grew bigger as his change of position allowed him to hit your sweet spot on and on, ripping high pitched whines from you and obligating you to close your eyes. “The thought of getting caught. The image of someone seeing how good I make you feel.” The placement of his foot, making the landing creak repeatedly each time he pushed up accompanying every word. “Fuck, you're talking me so well. Such a dirty girl, uh.”

His big hand yanked the strap of your dress down, exposing your left boob. Your already hard nipple was soon attacked by Ransom's fingertips. He'd pinch and twist it slightly, just enough to make your back arch in search of his touch.

Pleasure was overflowing your senses, you could feel your heart thudding in your ears and your legs losing strength. Your hand left your mouth to grip at the back of Ransom's neck to keep you from falling.

The sight of your lower lip trapped between your teeth didn't please Ransom. In other circumstances, he would've let you stay that way, as quiet as possible so no one would walk on you. This time though, it was his intention to rip the most delicious sounds from your lips so you thought of the possibility of his family listening.

And so, he lent to kiss you, passion and desire transmitted through his breath. His tongue asked for a permission that was not really required, but as you let it in, Ransom took the opportunity to bite down your lip.

With your lips forcefully parted and Ransom's restless hand traveling back to your bundle, you had no other option than to moan with each quick circle his digits drew.

A series of laughs and undistinguished words were heard from a distance. Both Ransom and you turned to see what they were about, stopping in your tracks with him still buried deep inside your needy cunt.

“Guess dinner's ready.” Unbothered about the information he just gave, he hid his face in the crook of your neck and resumed his movements.

A shaky oh, fuck fell from your lips as you felt the familiar knot in your stomach forming. Your head flew back, hitting the wall with a soft thud. 

“Careful. We don't want to be obvious, do we?” You knew you were about to explode, and by the way your walls were clenching and your trembling body tried to separate from him, Ransom knew as well. “Let go, sweetheart.” A roar erupted from him as he felt you tightening around his length. “Cum for me.”

With a last, powerful thrust of his hips, you let out a silent scream. The coil snapped, making you see a kaleidoscope of colors behind your eyelids and listen to a loud ring in your ears. 

Ransom followed right after, cursing as he finished inside of you, coating you with every last drop and making sure everything would stay there.

He slid out, leaving you with a feeling of emptiness as he zipped his trousers and took a step back to let you fix your appearance.

You managed to accommodate your dress just in time for Ransom's family to walk out of the room they were in to see you. Your agitated breathing and blushed cheeks, getting everyone's attention. 

“Are you okay, dear?” Ransom's dad asked.

“She's fine.” Your boyfriend answered for you. “She's feeling a little sick. I better take her home.” He took you by the hand and helped you down the stairs to the door, which you thanked. Had he not done it, you would have tripped taking the first step.

“But she hasn't met grandpa yet.” Meg noted, furrowing her brows.

“It'll be next time.” And with that, Ransom took you out of the house and in the passenger seat of his car without giving anyone the chance to say goodbye.

When you were at a considerable distance, you sighed, letting out the air you didn't know you were holding.

“Just so you know, there won't be a next time.” You informed him, against your want to meet his grandfather.

“Why not?” He asked with a chuckle, already knowing the answer. 

“Cause embarrassment won't let me come back in the near future.”

Behind an eye roll and a tap on your thigh, Ransom hid the triumphant grimace his perfectly carried out plan gave him.

[edie-baby]

to have and to hold | juri vips

summary: Juri Vips was a bastard of a teammate. Mostly just because you were insanely in love with him and his flirtatious ways. Juri senses a change in your behaviour and when things begin going back to normal, Juri just fucks it up again. (Similar premise to the Mr & Mrs imagine with Liam, but different[?])

word count: 2894

warnings: swearing, still. i don't think i should have to put warnings about swearing anymore, it's basically a given.

Working with Juri Vips was a fucking trainwreck. There was no light way to put it, it was messy, it was painful, and yet you could never stop fucking staring at him. Being his teammate in F2 for the past year and a half, the two of you had gotten quite close, to the point where his family invited you on vacation with them when they were going, and you had joined them once, but realised about two hours in, that it was a thinly veiled attempt from literally his entire family to get the two of you together.

And while you were all for it, being forced to spend so much time with Juri, while he was shirtless nonetheless, was a literal dream come true, it was also incredibly painful for you to stop from pouncing on him at any given moment. Because as much as his family thought there was something between you, it was purely Juri’s charisma and character to be almost constantly flirting with you.

You remember the first time the two of you, a few other F2 drivers had come along as well, had gone to the beach and he had seen you bust out the bikini you knew made you look like a hot piece, he hadn’t shut up about it, or you, for weeks afterwards.

“Well look at you, little miss supermodel. I would have thought you’d be walking catwalks with legs like that, not pushing pedals like the rest of us. God, you look like you just stepped out of my dreams and onto this beach. If you keep looking like that, I think I might have a problem to deal with later in the shower.” He had hollered, and many of the guys around you either joined in or had nothing to say but gawk. Juri’s comments had cemented themselves in your brain however, calling back upon them whenever you felt less than top dollar, which you had to admit was becoming more often in recent months.

Juri had noticed your slowly waning confidence, of course he had. His gorgeous view of you in crop tops, little skirts, and tight shorts had turned into oversized shorts, hoodies, and ill-fitting jeans. All of which still made you the most beautiful girl in the world, but there was something missing from your aura, a general happiness that had been lacking since the new season started a few months ago. In the entire time Juri had known you, you were never one to listen to other’s opinions of you, whether they be good or bad, the only people you had ever listened to and taken words to heart from were himself, your parents, and your boyfriend.

Somehow in the span of about three minutes, Juri had tracked the four most likely culprits of your diminished ego. He knew he hadn’t said anything harmful or damaging to you since the season began, as many of your conversations had revolved around racing, other drivers in the paddock, or your family. Your parents, he was confident in, he had met them many times before, and they were always genuinely warm and welcoming, he supposed there might have been another side to them, though he believed he would have picked up on it by now. Which leaves only your boyfriend, whom Juri had zero confidence in.

Tye was nice, almost disgustingly so, but he was also much too proud of being nice for it to be genuine. He would open car doors for you, give you flowers every few months, and once bought you a necklace with a pendant of his name. But you would never forget that he did those things for you, because as soon as you would mention something relatively negative, those few acts of kindness were shoved down your throat.

Juri, of course, was not privy to that information. All he knew was that Tye’s possessive behaviour and complete lack of care for your wishes meant that there was something beneath the surface Juri was sure was the reason for your confidence, or lack thereof.

So when you came into work one day, to continue shooting some videos for the YouTube channel, wearing a gorgeously fitted pair of jeans, and a halter-neck singlet, Juri knew something was afoot. Also notable was your lack of gold necklace and your beaming smile toward the Estonian.

“You gonna keep staring like that, or do you want to take a photo?” You asked, your voice holding the teasing lilt Juri had missed in the past weeks. Without breaking his gaze from your body, Juri reached into the pocket of his shorts, his hand retrieving his phone and taking a photo of you standing there, tight clothes and bright smile in all its glory. He smirked when he saw your barely concealed smile.

“You’re in a much better mood than usual. What happened?” Juri couldn’t help but ask, the drastic shift in your mood was more than intriguing to him. Your smile widened, taking the last few steps toward his position in a chair behind the large conference table.

“I lost 80 kilos last night.” You whispered, leaning in closer to Juri, the glint in your eyes, the proximity and the tone were all so familiar to him that he couldn’t help but meet you halfway, barely three inches between your faces as the words processed in his mind.

Juri glanced down at your body confusedly, trying to figure out where exactly the 80kg had disappeared from. Then, the pieces began clicking into place. The lack of gold necklace, the tighter clothes, the glowing smile, none of which would have been staring Juri in the face if Tye had a say.

“You dumped Tye?” Juri questioned, his eyes lighting up, his raise in volume betraying just how excited he was for you, and himself. You nodded, eyes softening as you watched the pure joy cross Juri’s face. Him being happy was something that always warmed your heart, but Juri being happy about you finally being happy? You were sure your knees were about to buckle.

“I’m glad. I can have you all to myself now.” Juri grumbled, reaching for your hands that were braced against the arms of his chair. With a sharp tug, your balance was offset, and your body was tumbling toward Juri’s. You landed with a giggle in Juri’s lap, his own laughter joining yours and the two of you simply enjoyed each other’s presence after having an intangible wall built between you during your relationship with Tye.

Juri couldn’t hold a taken woman like he loved her, not when that taken woman wasn’t his to hold. And you, how could you revel in the feel of man’s touch that was anyone’s but the man you supposedly loved. You couldn’t break out in goosebumps, or have a shiver roll down your spine when you felt the familiar pressure of his calloused fingertips pressing into the skin of your back, desperate to keep you close. You weren’t allowed to sigh in content when you felt the warmth of his body seep into your skin, or whimper when his hot breath rolled over the skin of your neck.

But now you could. Now, without the moral implications of enjoying another man, you could sink into this all-consuming feeling you have when Juri is near.

“Morning you two. We’ve got a video to film in the garage if you want to follow me?” The social media manager, Georgina,  a lovely woman in her 40s whom you always went to for advice and style tips, poked her head into the room you and Juri were tangled in, a cheeky smile on her face when she spotted the somewhat compromising position. A blush fell heavy on your cheeks, and you were quick to try and scramble away from Juri.

He had other ideas though. When Juri began moving, you clutched onto him for dear life, terrified of falling to the ground even though it was only about two feet. Your arms circled around his neck, your legs fully wrapping around his hips from where you were straddling him on the chair. His large hands came to rest on the underside of your thighs, hoisting you up higher on his body. Your legs clenched around his middle, the feel of his fingers pushing into the soft skin of your legs was electrifying, and you were sure if you didn’t have a video to film, you would have been telling the Estonian to find an unoccupied office to take what he needed from you.

But alas, you had a job to do. So, still wrapped around Juri like a vice, he carried you through the Hitech office, nodding to other staff you passed, and occasionally nuzzling his nose into your neck to get a good whiff of your perfume. Juri had said multiple times the scent was intoxicating and could bring any man to his knees. You may have gone out and bought an extra bottle to ensure you never ran out after that.

After a few minutes, you stepped into the garage with Juri, well, he stepped in you just kind of floated in. The scent of grease, rubber and a slight hint of fuel invaded your nostrils, and you sighed in content. Juri chuckled at your actions, he always loved watching you step into a garage, or out onto the pit lane to take in the smells of burnt rubber. You told him every time he laughed at you that it evoked a calm feeling within you, it was nostalgic, filled with happy memories from your childhood and the memories of races you shared with Juri on track.

“Alright lovebirds, can we get you in these chairs and we’ll start explaining while we finish getting set up.” Georgina stated, smiling fondly at the love between her two youngsters. Juri sat you down in one of the chairs sitting before the cameras, not leaving your side for long as he planted himself in his own chair and dragged you as close as possible.

Georgina explained the rules of the game, and the way you would be playing it, choosing you to sit in the background listening to music whilst Juri answered questions about you. First, they gave you a list of questions about yourself, asking to circle the correct answers and they would be compared to Juri’s during the game.

“Ok Juri, the first question. How old was Y/N when she started karting?” Georgina questioned. She watched you in the background closely to ensure you couldn’t hear anything, but you were blissfully unaware of everything around you, headphones in your ears, legs tucked up on the chair, scrolling through your phone with the occasional giggle escaping your lips. Each time Juri heard the angelic sound, he would turn to look at you with a look so soft it made the entire team’s heart swell.

“Uh, I think she was 10, I know she started late because she had to argue with her parents to let her do it with her brothers, and I think 10 is about the right age.” Juri answered, looking as though he was thinking quite hard about it. It had been a long time since the two of you discussed your start in karting, it was one of the first conversations you had together, and since then you hadn’t had to talk about generic teammate topics. Juri was proud that he remembered something seemingly insignificant from a year and a half ago, but supposed when it came to you he could never forget a thing.

“Alright, next question. What is Y/N’s biggest fear? Is it A, the ocean, B, goblins, or C, heights?” Juri’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he heard the second answer, trying to figure out why it was even an option in the first place. His eyes focused on one spot on the floor, his brain moving a mile a minute to analyse conversations he had with you.

“Well, we’ve been to the beach together a few times, and thinking back I don’t think she’s ever gotten into the water. So maybe the ocean, but she also said once when we were looking at a castle that she doesn’t like gargoyles, so goblins could be a thing. But she’s definitely not scared of heights. She’s gone skydiving, bungee jumping and climbed bridges and things like that. So I’m going to say the ocean. I feel like I would definitely know if she was scared of something like goblins.” Juri laughed, his eyes still glued to the spot on the floor, his thoughts flowing through his mouth with little consideration of how they could be interpreted.

“What is something Y/N never leaves the house with?” Georgina was hopeful for this question, she was sure it could be the catalyst for the two drivers to finally own up to their feelings after reading your answer. Juri listened to the multiple choice answers, but none of them sounded just right.

“So, the rings sound the closest, but sometimes she will wear lots, and other times only a few, and when she can’t wear them on her hands, she’ll thread it onto a necklace to wear under her race suit, or something so yeah, I’d say the rings.” Juri answered, turning to look at you behind him, wearing the exact ring he was talking about on the ring finger of your right hand.

“And what ring is the one she wears on her necklace?” Georgina probed, knowing the answer and just wanting to see the way Juri heated up when he talked about it.

“Uh, it’s a diamond ring that has a J engraved on the inside.” Juri answered, his cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink. A smile broke out on your face as you watched Juri, his flustered state always made you giggle as he was such a confident and put-together person usually. As a habit, you began spinning the ring on your right hand around, feeling the shape of the diamonds and knowing the initial carved into the inside was a claim over you.

“Do you know where she got it?” Georgina asked. She was getting frustrated, Juri was much more calm about revealing the intimacy of the ring than she had hoped.

“I gave it to her. About a year ago, and then she gave me a necklace with an (your initial) on it. I wear it every day, and it’s the only piece of jewellery I wear while I drive.” Juri answered, his fingers reaching up to toy with the thin gold chain hidden beneath his shirt. He looked over his shoulder at you, spotting the spinning ring immediately and smiling at you.

You looked up at him, a dazed look as you stared at the gorgeous man in front of you. He could see the stars in your eyes, staring at him as though he hung the moon, and if he was honest with himself, if you asked, he would. There was nothing you could ask of him that would be too much, even if you didn’t ask, he would do everything for you. No one had ever held this power over him, he wasn’t even sure it would feel this good if it were anyone else, but you just did something to him. You unlocked a part of him he didn’t know existed.

You were just, everything. To him. You were everything he ever wanted, ever needed, even everything he didn’t know he needed. You opened him up, poured sunshine into his life in the form of your smile, happiness penetrated his bones because of your laugh. He didn’t want to lose that again, didn’t want to lose you to another man. He needed you, and he needed you now.

It was like slow motion, the way Juri surged out of his chair toward you, his hands cupping your jaw roughly as he guided you to your feet. The laptop on the ground pulled the earphones from your ears, your phone clattering to the floor in your surprise. Your hands reached up to fist in his shirts, not wanting to lose this proximity. You had him in your grasp and you’d be damned if you ever let him go again.

Juri pressed his lips to yours, as soft and warm as you’d imagined them so many times before. You kissed him back with ferocity, the eighteen months worth of emotion poured into a kiss to communicate your feelings in a way that didn’t need words. He kissed back just as fiercely, his hands holding your face still to allow him to do exactly what he needed. You were pliable to his every demand, putty in his hands. Juri had always had this effect on you, every fleeting touch or brush of a hand on your waist made your knees weak and your stomach flutter with the force of a thousand butterflies.

Juri pulled away, barely a breath between your lips as he panted slightly. Your eyes were trained on his lips, the fullness of his bottom lip, the redness from your assault on them making them look all the more kissable.

“So, how about we switch that ring to the other hand and really make this a Mr & Mrs video?”

[yourlocalfictionalenthusiast]

IN LIFE, IN DEATH...

PART TEN

:Masterlist:

A/N: And that’s a wrap! Ahh, writing this series has been so fun and I’m so glad that so many of you have liked it so much. Thank you guys for staying until the end and hopefully for upcoming stuff 👀 I hope you enjoy the finale of In Life, In Death... <3

(Also the song mentioned in part six and this part is ‘She Is Love’ by Parachute) <3

-

December 1994

Luke groaned as he woke up, squinting hard to try and adjust his eyes to the amount of light in the room.

Even before he could see clearly, he knew he must've fallen asleep in the studio judging by the soreness in his back and neck that he always got when he slept on the old couch. It couldn't have been more than six in the morning, and Luke could still feel the tiredness in his bones. So he tried to turn away from the light and hopefully fall back asleep, but there was something keeping him firmly in place.

His heart skipped when he looked down and saw that you were laying right next to him with your head on his chest and an arm thrown across his stomach. When he realized that his own arms were wrapped around you, his heart broke out into a full-on tap dance.

Waves of confusion ran through his still-foggy brain until he saw his guitar case propped up against the piano and his backpack on the floor with his clothes spilling out of it.

Then the events of last night quickly came back to him.

How he had gotten home late from rehearsal and his mom was waiting in the kitchen with his latest report card and her signature lecture at the ready. One minute he was standing there yelling, packing all he could fit into his bag, and the next, he was halfway to the studio with the rain soaking him head to toe.

He had expected it to be empty when he finally got there, but he was flooded with relief when he saw you. All the frustration slowly melted out of him the longer he laid there with you, leaving him feeling exhausted and shivering despite how warm he felt.

The last thing he wanted to do was talk about any of it, but when you asked, the words came out of his mouth before he could stop them.

He remembered rambling and crying again, the sound of your voice and the feeling of your fingers in his hair warming him up even more. Then finally, he remembered falling asleep with his chin tucked on top of your head, the smell of your shampoo filling his senses.

Without thinking, Luke reached down and carefully pushed a piece of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear and smiling to himself when you shifted into his touch. Then taking in a sharp breath as the realization ran through him all the way down to his toes.

You were his best friend.

The person he wanted to see at the end of a long day. Whenever he was full of anger or lost in confusion, all he had to do was look at you and everything suddenly made sense again. With your pretty smile and laugh, and your way of flipping that little switch inside him that made his head all fuzzy and the ground start spinning under his feet.

You were his best friend, and he was in love with you.

-

2020

All you felt was a mixture of anxiety and nausea as you stood on the Orpheum's street corner, biting the tips of your fingernails.

The entire plan hinged on Willie and Teddy getting everything done in time, and considering that they had betrayed you all before, you couldn’t help but expect the worst.

“Look, don’t worry. Willie said he’ll get us on that marquee.” Alex said nervously as he kicked pebbles across the sidewalk.

“This is going to work, right?” Reggie asked.

“It has to.” Luke mumbled, wincing seconds later when another shock hit them.

Two sharp pops cut through the air behind you and you all whipped around to see Willie and Teddy standing just a few feet away. Willie was watching you all carefully with concern written all over his face, his eyes lingering on Alex longer than anyone else. Teddy stood at the edge of the group, practically burning a hole in your face with his guilty stare.

“Are you guys okay?” Willie asked.

“Yeah, nothing we haven’t felt before.” Alex laughed awkwardly. “How’d it go?”

“Well, when the opening band wakes up, they’ll find their bus two hundred miles out of Vegas.” Willie said with a proud smile as he did a spin, showing off his stolen jacket with the band’s name across the back.

“With absolutely no chance of getting back in time.” Teddy added.

Luke gave Willie a fistbump and pointed up to the office above the Orpheum. “That means there’s probably a promoter up there freaking out right now.”

Willie grinned, sarcasm laced in his tone. “Nah, man. This is Hollywood. I’m sure he’s being very professional.”

You laughed and then Alex slowly inched forward, clearly struggling for the right words to say to Willie. You gave his arm a quick squeeze before following Reggie and Luke down the street to give them space. Before you even got halfway down the sidewalk, Teddy poofed next to you.

“You know, If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you don’t want to talk to me.” He joked.

“Teddy-”

"I just-I didn't want to leave things the way we did." He rambled. "I'm sorry, I should've told you everything that night in the diner-"

"Teddy, It's okay." You said. "You told me before Caleb could put the stamp on me, and you didn't know the details about the plan until after it was too late to help my friends. Plus, I know how much you're risking helping us now."

As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt some of the weight fall off your shoulders. You weren't sure why since the situation was still a little painful and awkward. But being around Teddy always made you feel a little like that kid who started working at the diner with Cece all those years ago. Besides, they were so alike that you found it hard to stay mad at him.

You held out your hand for Teddy to shake. "Despite everything, I'm glad we met."

“Likewise, Gorgeous,” Teddy said with a relieved smile as he grasped your hand. With a subtle wink, he nodded over towards where Luke was standing at the end of the street. “He’s a lucky guy.”

"What? How did you?-" You sputtered as he stepped away. You never told Teddy about Luke, or at least you didn't think you did.

Teddy just smirked in response before disappearing into the air. At the same time, you saw Willie skate away out of the corner of your eye, leaving Alex alone on the sidewalk.

You all phased next to him and Luke squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "You okay, man?"

"Yeah. I'm good." Alex smiled slyly as he gestured to the office. "Looks like this show needs a new opening act though."

You grinned. "Let's go see if we can help with that."

-

When you got back to the studio, you found Julie pacing back and forth in the middle of the room as she wrung her hands together.

When you all poofed in, she immediately jumped into a load of questions, losing her breath halfway through and flailing her arms around.

"Whoa, just sit down," You laughed excitedly. "We'll tell you everything."

Julie took a gasping breath and plopped backwards onto the couch then stared at you all with expectant eyes. "Well?"

"It worked!" You announced. "Everything's fine."

"You should be getting the call...now!" Alex pointed to Julie’s phone on the table just as it started buzzing. You all cheered and Julie shushed you as she answered the call.

You heard a woman's voice say something through the phone and Julie gave a thumbs-up as she started jumping on the couch. You watched in amusement and mild horror as Luke and Reggie lifted Alex up into the air and spun him around.

Once he was back on the ground, Luke and Reggie made a beeline for you, each of them grabbed one of your arms and flipped you upside down over their shoulders.

You all spent the next twenty minutes laughing and screaming and Alex even got a little teary-eyed but you pretended not to notice. Then Julie called Flynn and ran off excitedly to decide her outfit for the night, leaving the four of you alone to plan out the setlist.

“Okay, so I’m thinking we start with Stand Tall.” Luke said excitedly as he wrote the words down in his songbook.

“Sounds good.” Reggie said, suddenly quiet.

“’Sounds good’? Guys, I wanna hear ‘That sounds awesome!” Luke reached out and nudged Reggie’s shoulder. “I know this isn’t the way we imagined any of this. But we need to be all in tonight. This is our second chance to play the Orpheum!”

“I get it.” Reggie sputtered. “But it’s hard. Do we even know what’s on the other side when we cross over? Do we still get to hang out together?”

You shifted your weight as the happy little bubble surrounding you popped. You had been so wrapped up in the excitement of finally playing the Orpheum that you almost forgot what tonight was really about.

“You guys are the only family I have.” Reggie’s eyes were glued to the piano as he played with his fingers. You reached out and locked his arm with yours in an attempt to comfort him.

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen either. But it’s not like we have a choice.” Alex said.

Suddenly, Reggie’s arm fell out of yours as all three boys fell back, clutching their sides.

“I’m pretty sure we do.” Reggie groaned. “And it rhymes with ‘Hollywood Ghost Club’.”

The garage doors creaked open and Julie appeared with a bright smile and a blue garment bag in her hand. When she saw your expressions, her smile fell. “What’s wrong?”

“We just got hit pretty hard by one of those jolts.” Alex said. “But we’re fine.”

“Oh, good.” She nodded, though she still looked on edge. “I’m nervous.”

“That makes two of us.” You said. “But we made it this far for a reason. We got this.”

“Can you ride there with me? I'm gonna need more pep-talk material for the drive there cause I still think I might puke.” Julie tucked her hair behind her ears.

“Of course, and don't worry, we’ll leave the windows open.” You joked, making everyone laugh.

The sound of a car horn cut through the air and Julie looked outside. "That's my dad. Are you ready, (Y/n)?"

You nodded. "Yeah, uh, give me a second. I'll meet you in the car."

As Julie disappeared behind the doors, you turned to the boys and sighed as you tried to soak up this moment. For all you knew, this could be the last little window of time you had alone with them before tonight.

Julie was a huge part of the band of course, but these were your boys. The ones who you started this all with, who had been by your side for everything.

From the look on all their faces, you could see that they were thinking the same thing.

Without saying a word, you launched yourself at Alex. He made a surprised noise but recovered quickly, throwing his arms around you and holding you tight.

"And I'm the emotional one?" He jokingly muttered in your ear and you pinched his side, making him jump back. "Rude."

As soon as your arms were open, Reggie stepped forward and hugged you so tightly that you were thankful to not need oxygen anymore because he was definitely crushing several vital organs.

You laughed and gave him one last squeeze before pulling away, locking eyes with Luke instantly.

Alex cleared his throat awkwardly and grabbed Reggie's shoulder, steering him over to Luke's songbook to 'check out the setlist again'.

"And then there were two." Luke joked.

You laughed and stepped into his waiting arms, making him laugh. You soaked up the feeling of comfort and familiarity for a minute before pulling away.

"This, uh, is for you," Luke said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. You knitted your eyebrows together in confusion as he handed it over. "I wanted you to have it in case...well, you know. If tonight doesn't work."

"It will." You said, trying to ignore the fact that it very well could happen. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, Patterson."

"I wouldn't dream of it." He quipped back, his voice sounding softer and less teasing than you would've expected. You pulled back from him and because you didn't know if you would ever get another chance, you stood on your tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek.

You moved away too fast to see his reaction but the gesture made the other two boys smirk at you as you dashed out of the doors, making a beeline for the car pulling out of the driveway.

-

The back rooms of the Orpheum were a maze.

You had left for a few minutes to walk around the venue and clear your head, trying to wring out the last of your nerves.

By the time you found your way back, you expected to find the rest of the band rushing to get ready in the dressing room. But all you saw was Julie anxiously pacing as she had been earlier, a habit she seemed to have inherited from both you and Alex.

“You okay?”

She snapped her head up towards you and sighed. “Yeah, just a little worried. The guys aren’t here yet.”

You looked around the room and then at the clock, frowning. The show was in less than half an hour and that was already cutting it close. Part of you wanted to go check on them but Julie seemed to need you more at the moment.

“Okay, well, give them another ten minutes. I'm sure they'll be here. They wouldn’t miss this…again.”

You ran your palm across the front of your pocket, feeling Luke's note next to your parent’s photo, and hoped you were right.

But then more and more time passed until the stage manager came to escort Julie to the stage.

"Just a second!" She calls out and then turns to you. "(Y/n), something's wrong. They were getting those jolts pretty hard before we left. They must've run out of time."

You shut your eyes tight as the words sunk in. All you could bring yourself now was, ‘This isn't what was supposed to happen.’

The world fell out from under your feet and you had trouble even standing up straight as you imagined what must've happened to them. Your best friends, your brothers, your family was gone and there wasn't anything you could do about it.

The guy knocked again, this time a little harder and with a nervous tone. Julie chewed her lip as she looked between you and the door and you could almost see the cloud of grief settling over her.

As hard as it was, you tried your best to shove your feelings down and marched up to Julie. There would be time to fall apart later, but you knew that this what they would want you to do. "Let's go do this for them, okay?"

She took a deep, shaky breath before hesitantly nodding. You followed closely behind her as she walked out the door though the halls until she reached the stage. You waited beside Flynn in the wing as Julie settled behind her microphone and addressed the crowd.

There were scattered claps from around the venue and then she took a deep breath before singing the opening.

After the first few lines, you took your cue and materialized at the center of the stage. The crowd gasped and cheered the way they always did, but you kept your eyes shut tight and focused on the music.

Just as the song started picking up, you heard a familiar pop in the air and then the sound of drumming. You whirled around to see Alex mounted onto a drum set at the back of the stage, twirling his drumsticks around and smiling like he had never been gone at all.

Once you got over the initial shock, you wanted to cry with relief. They were okay, they were here. Alex winked at you goofily, and you ran towards Julie’s keyboard.

She had started bouncing on the balls of her feet, both of you finally getting into the song now that they were coming back. You followed suit, dancing around the base of the drum set as yours and Julie’s voices came together.

Then Reggie appeared on the other side of Julie and you ran to his side. You bumped his shoulder with yours and he grinned, moving to stand back to back.

The song was ramping up to the chorus when a staticky noise cut through the air, not loud enough for the crowd to hear but enough to make you all look over to the other end of the stage.

You could see Luke's form fading in and out, a look of anguish on his face, and the pit in your stomach opened up again. The crowd was on the edge of their seats as Alex's drumming paused and Luke finally materialized to sing the opening of the chorus.

You didn't even know you were moving until you suddenly found yourself across the stage next to Luke, unable to stop smiling as you sang.

Julie joined you, throwing her arms up in the air happily and jumping around. Reggie appeared by her side, flashing the crowd a winning smile.

Alex stood up and gripped his mic as he sang this solo. You looked back at him and flashed him a proud smile, then whooping loudly when Reggie sang his lines.

You all went down the line hitting your notes until the chorus kicked in again and your heart felt so full you almost couldn't stand it. This was what you were so close to achieving before you died, it was all you had wanted for years, and you knew that if you hadn't died, that night would've changed your life. But this night was something even more special. Because you were all here, all together.

Even if it was just for one last song.

Julie caught your attention and nodded towards the platform that spread out into the crowd. You followed her to the center and stood back to back as everyone cheered.

The guys joined in on either side of you, Alex grabbing one of your hands and Luke holding the other. You all bowed to the audience before taking your cue and vanishing, leaving only Julie on stage.

You landed in the wing, feeling a little lightheaded and overwhelmed from all the emotions you had experienced in the last five minutes. The elated smile fading from your face when all three boys poofed by your side only to fall to the floor instantly.

“It didn’t work.” You said miserably as Julie emerged into the backstage area. She grabbed Flynn and whispered something to her, pointing in the direction of her family. Flynn nodded and disappeared into the crowd while Julie ran to your side.

You hauled Alex onto his feet, letting him lean on you to stay upright while Luke and Reggie trailed behind Julie as she led the group back to the dressing room. Once everyone was inside, they collapsed on the couch or the floor, loudly groaning in pain.

“What happened? Why didn’t it work?” Julie asked tearfully.

“I guess playing here wasn’t our unfinished business.” Alex said hollowly.

“Point Caleb.” Reggie muttered as he clung to the side of an armchair.

You stood frozen next to Julie as panic spread through your whole body, both of you flinching in sympathy as the shocks continued.

“You have to save yourselves right now.” Julie begged. “Join Caleb’s club. It’s better than not existing at all!”

“She’s right.” You managed to say, your voice shaky and almost giving out. Your stomach flipped at the thought of them having to work for an evil club owner forever, but the alternative was worse. “You guys need to go now! For me. For us.”

“We’re not going back there.” Reggie shook his head.

Luke pulled himself up and stumbled forward a little so that he was right in front of you. “No music is worth making if we’re not all making it together.”

You sighed sadly, thinking back to your conversation yesterday. “So no more regrets?”

Luke let out a deep sigh and then reached up and cupped your cheek with his right hand. “Just one.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in response and Luke blinked hard as if he was trying to find the words. "I never told you why I left that night."

"Luke, don't." You gave him a weak smile. "I get it."

"You do?" He asked.

You struggled to get the words out. "Yeah, I mean it was bound to happen eventually. We just got too close and it was weird for you. I understand t-”

"What?" Luke asked, cutting you off with a confused look. "No, no, that's not it at all. Read the-"

Before he could finish, you heard Julie gasp loudly from a few feet away. You looked over to see her stepping back from Alex with an awestruck look on her face as she gripped his forearms.

Wait, what?

Before you could even begin to process what you were seeing, Reggie was reaching out to Julie, who grabbed his wrist and hauled him up to his feet. The three of them stared at each other for a few seconds before Julie turned to you and Luke.

“Guys, come here.”

Alex reached out and pulled you into his side while Luke threw an arm around Reggie’s back and Julie brought you all in closer to her. At first, nothing happened. But then there was a faint buzzing sound and the boys lifted their wrist towards the ceiling and you all watched in awe as the stamp floated away in the blink of an eye.

“Whoa.” Reggie said, his eyes still glued to the ceiling. “I don’t feel as weak anymore.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Alex agreed. “Not that I ever was that weak in the first place.”

You rolled your eyes and let your head fall over on his shoulder. “What do you think that means?”

Luke smiled. “I think it means the band is back.”

It was quiet for a second before Alex looked at you all shyly. “You guys think we can try that hug thing again?”

You laughed as you huddled together again, sniffling and laughing. Then Julie yelled out that you had played the Orpheum and then you were all jumping around, still tangled in each other’s arms.

Eventually, you all broke apart and while the boys started chasing each other around, you turned to Julie. She looked into your eyes and immediately flew into your arms, muttering into your shoulder, “I always wanted a big sister.”

The words warmed your heart and you squeezed her extra hard, grateful that you actually could now. “Well, I’m honored.”

“My family's probably looking for me so..." Julie stepped back from your arms with the biggest smile you’d ever seen on her face, you jokingly bowed to her and she copied the gesture before disappearing behind the door.

You wiped the last of your tears out of your eyes and turned around to find Alex and Reggie were talking in whispers and wearing knowing smiles. When Alex saw you looking, he cleared his throat and nudged Reggie’s shoulder.

“Hey, Reg.” Alex said cheekily, not taking his eyes off of you for even a second. “I was going to check out the next band. You wanna come with me?”

“Sure!” Reggie started strolling towards the door, stopping only for a second to nudge your shoulder and whisper ‘don't do anything I wouldn’t do’ in your ear.

Alex fixed Luke with a pointed look over his shoulder and Reggie gave him a dorky wink before they poofed away. You smiled fondly at the space where they were just standing and awkwardly turned towards Luke.

“Hi.” You said, laughing awkwardly.

“Hi.” Luke muttered back as he stepped forward until he was close enough to grab your hand. “About what I was saying earlier…”

You opened your mouth to say something but he shook his head and pointed to your pocket. “Read it. Please.”

You tugged the note he had given you earlier out of your pocket and carefully folded it open to see that it wasn’t a note at all. It was the love song that Julie had found that day in the garage, the one that he didn’t want anyone to see. You struggled a little trying to decipher Luke's handwriting. The ink was a little smudged and the song was clearly unfinished but it was the most beautiful thing you had ever read. And he had written it for you.

"I didn't leave because we got too close," He said. "It was the opposite, (Y/n), I left because I was scared to lose you, and I know that doesn't make sense because I kind of did w-"

You carefully tucked the paper back in your pocket with one hand and grabbed the back of his neck with the other, pulling him down and closing the last bit of space between you.

Luke's brain short-circuited for a second before he started kissing back, grabbing your waist with enough force to nearly knock you both backwards. It was dizzying and a little desperate, yet weirdly familiar, as if you'd been kissing him your whole life.

Most moments with Luke felt like they were happening in slow motion, but this time it was like a high-speed movie montage of your whole lives. The stolen crayons, the time capsule, the pre performance pep talks, the smell of cinnamon, the ferris wheel, his jacket, the movie nights and songwriting sessions. All of it had led up to this moment.

"I love you." Luke said immediately after you pulled away. "God, I love you so much. I'm such an idiot. I'm sorry."

“Hey, it’s okay.” You laughed, blinking another wave of tears out of your eyes. “I should’ve told you forever ago instead of skirting around it.”

“And what is it that you should’ve told me?” He said teasingly and you rolled your eyes. You had gotten so used to Luke being so shut down or nervous around you that you almost forgot how much of a little shit he could be.

“That I love you too.” You said, unable to stop smiling.

Luke leaned down and captured your lips in another kiss, this time threading his fingers through your hair as he cupped your cheeks in his hands. “I’m never gonna get tired of hearing that.”

You bit your lip to keep another laugh from bubbling up as you looked up at him, feeling completely overwhelmed in the best way possible. "So...what now?"

"I don't know." Luke admitted. "But I know one thing."

"What's that?"

"That no matter where we go, or what we do," He pushed a piece of hair behind your ear. "In life, in death... I'm yours. Always."

-

The End

-

In Life, In Death Taglist:

@ifilwtmfc @instabull @wanniiieeee @tenaciousperfectionunknown @charliegillespiewife @merceret @itismeasmolpotato @lilostif16 @dangerouslyclose @iainttakingshitfromnobody @givemebooksorgivemedeath @sunsetcurvedotmp3 @askgeoff @mayleenicole5676 @puppy11148 @vampire7595 @wackyworrieruniverse @reallysparklychaos @lovelydaydreams15 @rachmmb @musicismyescape27 @stackie4ever​ @spidermankenobi

(Strikethrough means I can’t tag you)

JATP Taglist:

@caitsymichelle13 @sunsetcurvej​

Let me know if you want to be added!

[jjk-anime-horray]

Fuck. The. Heat.

Daichi Sawamura x Reader (Requested by Anon)

One thing about being the assistant manager of Karasuno's volleyball team is that you had to deal with a lot of drama, however, when the boys were complaining about the heat they in fact weren't being dramatic. The heat today was an absolute bitch, and quite frankly the A.C. in the gym had broken-halfway through practice yesterday. So, everyone in the gym was currently sweating enough to parch a thirsty elephants thirst, and everyone was ungodly hot which was agitating because you were currently just as hot as they were.

But what made the situation even worse is that all of you decided to go to the beach that day to make up for the oven of a gymnasium all of you had to work in. And what was a better alternative than beach volleyball. Well the fact that you may have the fattest crush on the team captain in existence, and currently he was in front of you rallying with Tanaka and Asahi shirtless. It was getting harder by the minute to contain yourself, most specifically, all of your self control from flat out staring at the thick muscles of the captain. To make it worse, the only person in the whole wide world that knew about your crush was Sugawara.

One thing Sugawara was was kind, however, one thing that the silver haired boy wasn't was non-chaotic, and he was quite mischievous. You were quite accustomed to him teasing you about your love interest.

"Enjoying the view (Y/N)?" Snickeringly came from behind you, but you didn't have to look around to know who it was.

"Har Har." You quipped back agitatedly at the silver haired setter behind you.

"You know, you should just tell him you think he's hot instead of admiring from afar, because maybe he would give you a little tour of the merchandise. I'm sure he-Ouch that was uncalled for."

You had pinched his arm to get him to stop talking, and to stop teasing you. You knew that he maybe right, but it's also a lot easier said than done for the adventure of the heart. You both knew that.

"Was it really?" you say as you quirk an eyebrow upwards.

"No, it wasn't." He chuckled through smiling lips as his shoulders bounced up and down with the activity.

"Sugawara"

"Hmm?"

"You know you're an annoying little shit right?"

"Omg (Y/N) really? Just as I thought you were ready to be nice you decide to back stab me."

The moonlight colored boy put a cream colored hand over his chest, then dramatically flicked is soft fibers on his head, face , and neck to the side away from view in a theatric display of dislike.

"You wound me (Y/N) truly, do you know how stressful it is to look this good?"

"Suga you literally set yourself up for me to roast you more than you set a volleyball."

"Um rude, you don't have to be salty just because you can't get with your senpai."

The banter between the two of you quickly escalated into a full out verbal brawl, however, from the outside view it looked quite opposite to truth. Which caught the eyes and attention of the setter's teammates, temporarily halting their rally between them.

"Wow Suga's really going for it." Nudged Tanaka to his shorter friend Nishinoya.

"Yeah he is, good for him!" The shorter boy whisper yelled to his taller friend next to him.

His commentary didn't escape the ear shot of there captain however, and all of this new information caused the muscles on his upper jaw to tense from his dislike.

"Alright you guys lets take a break, we'll meet up in a little bit."

"Sweet!" The two boy voice in unison then quickly run off to see kioyko.

"Than little shit." Daichi grumbles to himself. Deciding that he's watched this scene unfold out long enough he decides to end his own suffering and end it himself.

Suga and you didn't even notice the large foot sets patting against the stand to in front of you until the both of you hear a deep informative clearing of the throat from there to look and find the large form of Daichi.

"Um (Y/N) can I steal you for a moment?"

At this point in time your brain was going haywire and numb at the same time from the sight of the young man in front of you. The beach shirt was unbuttoned to reveal his sculpted chest and abs that could rival Captain America himself in form. Quickly to not raise suspicion you snap yourself out of your daze and answer.

"Yeah of course give me a second." That second was used to situate yourself into a standing position, and sweep the sand off your butt. "Alright, lets go!"

Much to your surprise your wrist was quickly but gently taken into the volleyball players hand and you were swiftly pulled away from the setter to a new location away from the rest of the team. Leaving the setter with a proud smirk on his face.

Once you were out of everyone else's view the captain promptly let go of your limb then starter his conversation with you.

"Do you like Sugawara?"

"What?"

"You heard me, do you like Sugawara?"

"Ummm no. Why would you think that?"

"Because you were flirting with him, kinda loudly, and it made me jealous."

"I wasn't flirting with him, wait what?" That second notion that left his mouth completely left you by surprise, and it also let the male blush and rub the back of his neck with his irrationality.

"You were jealous of him?"

"Yeah because I like you, and I just didn't tell you before because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. Me being the grade above you and all."

All of the sudden you couldn't contain yourself, more specifically your laughter, and you knew it was bad timing, but you just came to an important realization.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh my gosh, Suga set us up."

"He did what?"

"He set this up because he both knew we liked each other, and he purposely made you jealous."

"That's not true he-" He cut himself off and looked back on the occurence of events he knew about, and quite frankly how he recently told Sugawara about his desire to ask you out and his hesitation. Suga noting his lingering glances and touches heading in your direction. The smug look on his face when he left to talk to you. Daichi finally put all of the pieces together.

"Oh my god i'm going to fucking kill him."

[romeulusroy]

Being The Smartest Shelby Would Include:

Polly knew you were smart from the start

She said so when you were a baby, but of course no one believed her

Everyone thought their kids were special, but you really were

Born just a few years before Finn, you weren't the baby, but you definitely weren't the oldest, so it was hard to be taken seriously

It started with your homework

You spent a lot of nights trying to tell your siblings it was just too easy

You weren't just getting every answer right, you were finishing pages of work in minutes, faster than anyone in your class

Eventually, you moved on to your brothers work

Finding it discarded on the table, you recognized Johns scraggly handwriting

He'd only made it halfway through, so you decided to finish it, even fixing some of his mistakes along the way

You wanted to show them what you'd done, but of course no one listened

At least, not until you stood on your chair and demanded that someone look over your work

It was a bit dramatic, and made for an embarassing story later, but you wanted to be heard

They did, finally, and they were shocked

Tommy handed it to John, who passed to Ada, skipping over Arthur, who eventually got it to Polly

"Well?"

"It's right, all of it. . . ."

"Fuck."

It wasn't just math though. You were reading every book you could find, even the ones your siblings struggled to get through

You had a knack for puzzles, for figuring things out no one else could, able to pull things apart and put them together just in your head

Polly knew, and she was going to do something about it

Anything she could find to keep you entertained, occupied, your mind at work, she'd bring it home

You had an incredible memory too, remembering everything from the contents on the back of bottles you brothers drank from to entire speeches Polly gave when all of you were misbehaving

It was amazing, to say the least

You were a kid when your brothers went off to war, so it was mostly Ada and Polly who spent long nights with you at the table over homework

You didn't think it was fair, that you were forced to stay in school when none of your siblings were

Polly called it a gift, said you shouldn't take it for granted

She had big plans for you, the kind of career kids like you could only dream of

Finn grows up with you reading to him every night

Even helping him with schoolwork, though that didn't last very long

It still irks you Polly let's Finn drop school, not even getting past reading himself, but you know better than to push the subject

By the time your brothers come back, thankfully all in one piece, you've become a bit of a myth or legend around the Small Heath

Not only are you taller and with more acne, a young teenager, you've made a name for yourself, and a business

After school you could be found with a hat on the ground, getting pocket change for your "abilities"

Showing off and splitting the money with friends, you put on shows

Memorizing the faces of strangers, drawing them almost perfectly by hand, reciting lines of poetry from class all from memory, etc.

Sometimes you bring Finn along, promising candy for his silence, making him part of the act

Your favorite is showing off the languages you've lesrned, switching between Romani, French, Italian, and German (to name a few) without a second thought, so effortlessly

Arthur caught you once, but instead of saying anything, he simply cheered you on, laughing at the fact that your business was doing better than the familys

You spent a lot of time in the shop like Finn, growing up there, but never really allowed in on business, not even to listen

Instead you were ordered to be quiet and focus on your studies

And you did, for a few years, slipping notes to John about what you thought would improve business, pressing your ear to the door to listen, putting up with being categorized as "one of the kids" with Finn

And then you made an announcement, one that almost killed Polly

You weren't going to university, and instead you'd be joining the family business

Your aunt put up a good fight, but your brothers were more than happy to welcome you, with rules of course

Ada wasn't too thrilled either, knowing how smart you were, and how special it was, but she wasn't going to stop you

Pol was, or at least she was going to try

"You could be anything you want y/n."

"And I choose this."

"You're-"

"Wasting my potential? So you've said."

You'd be more behind the scenes, working on the business side rather than the side with razors and guns

Your brothers were more than happy to hear that, though you'd gotten more than a few comments muttered by Pol

If you really wanted to, you could always be a doctor or a lawyer later in life, for now this is what you wanted most

You were finally part of your family

Within the first week, you have a full list of what could be improved and you're center stage in the family meeting

To say that was nerve wrecking was an understatement

Tommy had his doubts, of course, but John knew you'd been keeping their heads above water for a long time

"Go on then, you've got our attention."

You were the one they went to check over the books, the numbers, catching mistakes no one else did

It wasn't just spelling mistakes or addition issues, you were taking stock in inventory, in all the bullets that were wasted, the little things that went missing that no one seemed to notice

It didn't take long for you to work your way up, prove yourself not only to Tommy, but Pol too, showing her this wasn't a waste of your time

She's still not thrilled, but you're as stubborn as the rest, and she knows it's a losing battle

At least you're being smart with your work

Tommy made you check over every contract and agreement he made, making sure he didn't miss a single detail that would screw them over

He brought you to the races too, working out probability, though your math was shaky at best under that kind of pressure and uncertainty

You were the one counting the profits and losses too, weighing the options of whether or not to invest

You're really the only one who knows just how much the family makes

That is a dangerous thing in itself

You make friends quite easily

Not only can you speak an array of languages, bonding with everyone, but you've got that Shelby charm and good looks, too

You're quite popular, though your brothers constantly get in the way of any potential relationship

You're smart though, and not just for their gain, but yours too

If and when you're ready to date, you'll find a way

Alfie adores you

Tommy drives him mad, but he'd have you over any day

Not only does he love the fact that you can keep up with him, witty beyond belief, but your Hebrew is perfect

"So, you're the brains behind the whole operation?"

"Something like that."

You're brought along to a lot of in person deals

You pick up on things no one else does, remembering the littlest of things that can and will be weaponized if need be

Their kids and spouses names, the way they look at you, how they speak and carry themselves

It doesn't take long for you to know exactly who they are

"They're lying Tom. I know they are."

"How can you tell?"

"They look away when they answer, their eye twitches, and they always lean forward when they're saying something true."

"You got all that from a five minute conversation?"

You're not only their beloved little sibling, but the perfect weapon

They don't teach you how to use a gun, but you've been watching for years, making note of every tiny detail

When you do use a gun, which is inevitable, it's a perfect shot

Arthur and Tom insist you carry something with you, but you're fine sticking with a simple razor

The guns can stay with them. . . .

Not only does it come in handy with work, but your family, too

You pick up on the way Arthur escalates, talking him down before there's a full outburst

You know the nights Tommy does and doesn't sleep just by the sound of his voice, the way he signs his name

You know when to check up on Ada if she's not doing well after Freddies gone, even if no one else can see the hurt in her eyes

That's the thing everyone seems to forget, is that you're not only book smart, but people smart, too

Constantly making fun of your siblings right in front of them

"Pol, y/n's making fun of me!"

"I am not! You don't even speak Russian."

"No, but I can guess."

He'd never admit it to you, but Finn really is amazed by you

Ever since he was a kid he always looked up to you

School and homework and all that never came easy to him, and it lead to him giving up, so the fact that all of this comes so easy makes him proud to be your brother

"Y/n, curse in a language we all know or don't say it all."

Along with learning weapons along the way, you pick up on how to be a nurse, tending to whatever it needed

From your nieces and nephews scraped knees to bullet wounds

"Do not get blood on my new shirt!"

No one really suspects you to be listening or watching the way you do, so when they need it, you go "undercover"

Gaining the trust of the enemy, pretending to be a stranger that just so happens to get their attention as if you hadn't been figuring out what makes them tick, distracting them with drinks and small talk

If anything goes wrong, you picked up on how to get away, how to fight without getting too much attention, and not just by watching

With a memory like yours, there are some things you'd like to forget and can't

A lot of things do leave you with nightmares, with flashes of panic, with this dreadful feeling in your gut like you'd seen it all before

At one point or another you've called your siblings and aunt in the middle of the night, just to check up on them, see if they're okay

Begging your brothers to be more careful

They rarely ever listen though

"Is there anything you can't do?"

"I can't go on a date."

"Nope, not until you're forty."

"Come on Arthur, you can't scare them all away."

Despite all this, you're still treated like a child

Your siblings still see you as that smart little kid correcting their work and growing bored of even the most complicated things

No matter what you do or say, you'll always be small in their eyes

[sunnysidefangirl]

Midnight Snack Run (JJ x reader)

Summary: Reader wakes up with a wanting for a midnight snack.

Warnings: none? Not really edited sorry.

A/N: I want what the pogues have so I wrote it!!!

(Not my gif)

I groaned quietly before sitting up in the bed. The bedroom I slept in occasionally was almost pitch black. The only light being from the moon and stars behind the shutters. There was an annoying feeling that I just couldn't ignore. I wanted a snack right now. I wanted to go in the twinkie, drive to a small store, buy a bunch of food, and eat it. I've never had such a strong urge to do this...why? This is so random, could I just wait. No, probably not. I want to do it now, or else I won't be able to sleep peacefully. Should I really do this? I mean it's...

12:09

Twelve at night.

Darn you Y/n! Welp, I guess I am doing this. I quickly try to think of the best way to do this mission. I should be back by 12:40. I start to get out of bed but a hand on my hip stopped me.

"Where are you going?" JJ asked in a adorable sleepy voice. His hair was still unbelievably fluffy and sticking up in random places. His eyes were lightly squinted as he tried to regain his sight.

"I'm going to the store. I will be right back. " I said to JJ, softly getting out of his grip.

"You're going to the store?" JJ asks becoming more awake as the conversation went on. He checked to time on his phone before he sat up a little. "It's 12, are you crazy?"

"No, I'm hungry." I witfully told him. I change into a pair of sweatpants and a navy blue jacket. JJ sighs before he runs his hand through his blonde hair. A small amount of guilt entered me. I should have been more careful getting out of bed so I didn't wake him up. I leaned on the bed and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"I'll be right back." I said while putting my hair in a high ponytail with a few pieces of hair out to frame my face.

"Wait for me." JJ groaned getting out of the bed.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm not gonna let you just go out by yourself at night. Plus a snack does sound really good right now." JJ says while putting on an old white hoodie.

I smiled at the sweet gesture.

"Aw, JJ, that's really sweet." With a kiss on the cheek JJ became a little more awake. He blushed but rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah."

JJ puts shoes on as do I and then we were ready for a midnight snack.

"Okay so we should-"

THUMP

I tripped over the edge of the bed making a loud noise.

"Shhh!"

"I'm sorry it's dark!"

"Dude, here, take my hand." JJ says. I obey, grabbing his hand and allowing him to pull me out of his room.

We leave the bedroom and go to the hall way. Before I could go any farther JJ stopped walking.

"Wait what's the plan?" He asked

"Plan?" I question him.

"Yes, we have to have some sort of plan!"

"No we don't we just go to the store."

"That's boring. Since it's just us and I bet nobody else is up at this time we could go do something else too."

"Hmm..." I pause for a second. I guess he's right nothing is really open at this time. "I guess you're right. Maybe we could go to the beach."

"Exactly what I was thinking." JJ smiles.

"Wait, we should ask John B for his twinkie?" I don't want him to get angry at us or anything.

JJ then paused and looked at the door John B was currently sleeping in. After a few long seconds he shook his head.

"....nah. He'll be fine, he'll know it was us. Plus we'll be back before he even knows it was gone." JJ shrugs.

"Hey!" A third party voice whispers harshly. The third voice suprised me greatly. I turn around to see Kie. She had a sleepy look on her face and it was easy to see behind her glare. "What is going on here?!"

"We're getting snacks..." I said sheepishly.

"Snacks?" Kie says. She looked at me with a confused face. Probably wondering if I was crazy like JJ did a few moments ago.

"Yeah, wanna come?" JJ offered.

"...sure." Kie sighs. "Let me put some shoes on."

"Okay." JJ said.

We wait a mere minute for Kie and when she came back Pope was at her side.

"What's wrong?" He asked us, his hair was sticking up in random directions. Pope's brown eyes were squinted and he looked really tired.

"We're going to get something to eat man." JJ says with a shrug.

"Something to eat?! Right now?!" Pope exclaimed in disbelief.

JJ pointed at me and that lead to Kie and Pope looking at me.

"I just wanted a midnight snack!" I exclaim quietly. "Is it a crime for me to be hungry?"

Pope rolls his brown eyes but his face held a lot of amusement. I knew he couldn't actually be mad at me.

"Fine, I'll come too." He said.

"Why are you all awake?!" The booming voice of John B made us jump from the contrast of the previous whispering voices. He came out of his room with sweatpants and an old t-shirt on. He looked at us like we were crazy.

"Sorry dude, we didn't mean to wake you." JJ says.

"By the way can we take the van?" I ask. Might as well since he is awake.

John B turned to me and looked even more confused. His eyes were wide, you could practically see his brain working to figure out what is going on.

"Yeah...why?"

"We're going to get something to eat." Kie says. "Are you coming?"

John B looked at us for a while before he sighed. "I don't know, I-I'll see just...wait a second I need to go-"

"Sarah can come too." Kie smirks.

I start to laugh along with Pope and JJ. John B had another different look of disbelief. He snuck Sarah in often and he never told us so maybe he's wondering how we knew. The thing is, we all knew, they are awful at hiding secrets and sneaking around.

One time I decided to come over after a bad argument with my parents and since I was coming in late everybody was asleep. As I was about to walk into the room that JJ sometimes slept in, something in John B's room caught my eye. He was halfway out of the window pulling someone who I guessed was Sarah.

"John B, use your muscles!" She whispered.

"I am! You have to help me pull you up!" He whispered back.

Not wanting them to know I saw them, I made my way to JJ's room trying to keep my giggles small. They really have to get better at sneaking around.

"Sarah..." JJ sang in a teasing voice towards John B's door where she is, no doubt. This action made us laugh more.

"Uh, okay...okay, uh, I'm just gonna...just wa-wait here." John B replied becoming flustered. He then basically flew in his room but I noticed his slightly pink face.

We waited for a few minutes for John B and Sarah. They emerged from the room with slightly embarrassed faces. Sarah had a blush on her cheeks and a long sweatshirt on that probably belonged to John B.

"Don't be embarrassed! JJ used to sneak me in when we started dating." I grin linking arms with Sarah. She smiled back at me as we made our way outside.

"He what?" John B asked looking at his best friend. "I didn't know that."

"That's because we are good at sneaking and keeping secrets." I responded with a smirk.

"Hell yeah we are." JJ grins kissing my cheek. I felt my cheeks get warm at his affection.

In no time, we were all in the twinkie off driving to find a convenient store.

______________________________________________

JJ and I stayed in the van while the four others went closer to the beach. They sat at the beach and ate their snacks while playing in the sand.

I grabbed a bag of chips and opened it before I started to eat the salty snack. JJ and I sat in silence enjoying each other's company as we ate.

JJ opened his mouth towards me causing me to roll my eyes.

"You always ask me for my food." I said while putting a chip in his mouth.

"I can't help it." JJ shrugged nonchalantly. We were greeted with comfortable silence for only a few seconds. "This was actually a good idea."

"What?" I asked taking a sip of soda.

"Going out for a midnight snack." He said quietly looking at the sky. I was a little taken aback at the look of peace on his face.

"I really didn't mean to wake you up." I laughed lightly. JJ grins widely showing his crooked teeth. He suprised me, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close to him. I laid against him, my back against his chest and our arms wrapped together. JJ lightly kissed the top of my forehead before continuing to look at the stars in the sky.

We stayed at the beach for a few hours before going back to John B's and catching up on the hours of sleep we lost.

That soon became a pogue tradition. Whenever one of us had a bad night, couldn't sleep or was just hungry we would pile into John B's van, drive to the nearest store, and buy as much snacks as we could with how much money we had. None of us knew how important one night would be to all of us. It was simple times like this that really mattered to us.

All we needed was food, a van, a night sky, and each other.

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