#i really want to try and get a cane. it'd make my walk to work so much easier

[finncakes]

if i project on her hard enough i'll get a cane :]

[charliehoennam]

A/N: fulfilling @j23r23's request. Subtle reminder that my ask open again! Tried my best to sum it up, hope you enjoy <3

Summary: Reader's a pub owner and fianceè to The Alfie Solomons. Turns out she's a bit more than just that.

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x F!reader

Warnings: Language, Adopted!reader, not proof-read, I think that's it??

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

Most people would have been nervous if Alfie Solomons strolled on into their area of business without any notice.

Everywhere he went, his most trusted and strongest lackies followed behind for protection. They were intimidating on their own, but Alfie's dominant presence was enough to make anyone mentally retrace their days, wondering if they'd made their weekly payment for protection or if they'd gotten in trouble with any of Alfie's clan.

You, on the other hand, were not like the others. You remained calm, cool and collected the minute he wandered into your pub.

Despite it being young to the busy street and small in comparison to the neighboring establishments, you had heard many things about Alfie. Only rumors, however, mostly from your drunk clients at the Glass & Barrel.

Some would argue that he was full of himself. Others would make remarks on how he was a form of savior with the jobs he'd given them. A few despised him with all their might for the beating he'd ordered onto them. Judging by what you knew of these specific clients, you knew it hadn't been for nothing.

It was early morning when you hear the doorbell chime. You could hear him mumble on as he looked around at the pub, but couldn't quite make out what he said.

You knew right away who he was. The hat and the cane were dead giveaways, but it was his demeanor that made it clear. And what he did for a living did not sway you in the slightest.

You had expected his visit for a while. It was just a matter of time that he showed up to explain how his method of security works. It was simple. You pay and his boys protect. Extra pay meant he'd place a strong lad in the pub to chase away any unwelcome, rowdy guests.

The first thing Alfie noticed about you when he walked in and sat down at the bar was how unfazed you seemed. He knew at the moment that you were a fearless woman and he admired that.

He assumed you had to be that way, given the dubious characters that milked the bottles from your shelves and the barrels in the basement.

However, there was still a sweetness in you that teased his curiosity. It made him yearn for a woman in such a foreign way that he hadn't felt since he was a young lad.

Since then, his visits became more and more often until you realized he was stopping by about two or three times a week. The funniest thing about his visits was that he never drank anything other than water. It was quite comical.

He enjoyed charming his way into your heart. Every visit consisted of laughter, taste-tests of his finest brews, playful flirting and him trying to convince you to go out on a date with him.

You resisted. Alfie knew that you wouldn't be easy. He could barely imagine just how many drunken fellas have tried their luck with you. The gun you hid under the bar wasn't for nothing.

In fact, your reservation made you all the more special.

He respected your pace and, every time you turned down his invitations, he didn't press you.

"I respect that, love. But a man's gotta try, right? Maybe one day I'll get lucky and you'll say yes."

And he was right. One day, he did get lucky indeed and you finally accepted one of his relentless invitations. However, you requested that it'd be during the day.

You told him it was because the pub made more money at night, but really, you didn't want to give off the impression that you'd be repaying him with sexual favors.

Not that you didn't want to. Alfie's ruggedness was just one of the many features that you admired. You were more than attracted to him, but you weren't the type to sleep with someone so early on.

It was an unspoken boundary, but Alfie understood you better than you could ever imagine. He didn't need to hear you say it and he never forced you or questioned you about it. Truth is he was willing to wait as long as he needed to because he knew it'd be worth the wait. Because something told him that you would be the one.

The chemistry between you and Alfie was naturally cohesive. He cherished every moment he got to spend with you. Every laugh and smile he teased out of you were trophies to him.

Your relationship grew into mutual petting and necking often stolen in secret at the opera, in the corners of fancy restaurants or in the convenient shadows at the pictures. It gradually grew to the point where you finally felt comfortable enough to invite him to spend the night with you.

Alfie was right. It was definitely worth the wait.

He made sure to take it slow as to burn every single second and touch of into his memory. He wanted to make it about you and your pleasure.

Every kiss of his lips burned into your skin. His beard scratched your soft flesh of your as his kisses trailed over your body. His greedy hands pulled and squeezed you tightly, aching to meld your bodies to become one.

He couldn't get enough of you and you couldn't bare to part from him. The softness of his hair when your fingers raked through it, his hairy chest brushing against your breasts and then your back, the moans and groans vibrating from the depths of his core. It was enough to have you addicted to him.

That night with you was unlike any night he'd ever spent with any other woman. There was meaning to this act, deep meaning. You were the woman he loved, the one he hoped to marry. You were the woman that had given him hope to become a father and inspired him to be a better man. Despite being a hardworking man, he felt the lost desire to have a home to return to. Suddenly, Alfie had hope for a future in which he wasn't alone.

Throughout the time he'd gotten to know you, he noticed how you always seemed to stray away when the topic shifted to your family. You didn't lie about them. You told him just enough to satiate to his curiosity that was entirely about your adoptive parents.

The truth was that you barely knew your biological family. You knew who they were - your loving adoptive parents had always been honest with you about your origins - and that you were indeed one of the legendary Shelbys of Birmingham.

You hadn't thought about them for a long time until your now-fiance Alfie was meeting with Tommy Shelby at the distillery.

At first glance, you didn't know who was sitting across from Alfie in his office until Ollie told you and asked you to wait.

You stood outside of the office, away from Alfie's sight. It was clear Tommy was in rough shape. You'd heard about the beat down; you were amazed to see him still walking.

If he recognized you, he didn't make it obvious. He only saw you on his way out of Alfie's office, but he simply walked past you and left the distillery without looking back.

An emptiness hollowed you inside after he left. You wondered if he knew who you were. You wondered if anything would've changed if you had told him. After all these years, you doubted he'd even remember he had a little sister younger than Ada. Granted he was older than you - you yourself didn't remember anything from that time - there was a small part inside you that had hoped he'd remembered, but you had finally been answered.

It'd been a couple of days since you saw Tommy at the distillery. Although it hurt a bit to know he hadn't remembered you, you accepted fate as it was and felt like you could finally put it behind you as if you had finally buried the past.

Until the devil himself walked into the Glass & Barrel, announcing his arrival with the doorbell chime. He paused for a moment and let his eyes scan the pub.

It was early in the morning with only a couple of your regulars: veterans of the war drinking away their sorrows, and Bubba: the large bouncer Alfie insisted to keep inside the pub.

You froze as you watched Tommy take a cigarette before sliding it across his lips to wet the bud. From the corner of your eye, you noticed how Bubba looked at him and sat up alert, instantly recognizing him.

Bubba was a tall man who had gained his nickname for seeming common and unthreatening. You'd seen him in action plenty of times dealing with the rowdy clients to know he was anything but. He could blend into the crowd just as easily as he could fend off four men at once. Bubba always loved a good fight.

You nodded at him to let him know it was alright. He opened his newspaper again, but his eyes stayed locked on Tommy from the far corner.

You treated Tommy as you would treat any customer and offered him a drink.

"Whisky, please," he answered as he sat in front of you at the bar.

"Brown or white?"

"Brown" he nodded watching you move behind the bar. "This place yours?"

"It is, " you answered setting a glass in front of him to pour his drink.

"Nice place... Decorate it yourself?"

"I did."

He nodded and a small sip of his drink.

"You grew up 'round here?"

"Around London, yeah. Moved a bit here and there, but always stayed in London."

"You know, I once had a little sister. She was taken away early from us. My poor mum, she did her best to raise us. We were a bit of a handful. Six in total... Last I heard about her is that she lives in London."

Tommy cradled the glass in his hand and admired the brown liquid, but he could feel your eyes burning through him.

You froze as the realization washed over you. It was no coincidence that he wandered into your pub. It was entirely intentionally.

"Runs her own pub. Seems like that tends to run in the family," he paused and eyed you with a steely steady gaze, as if he could see right through you. "Does he know?"

Tommy felt like he already knew the answer. Alfie would have most likely brought it up during their first meeting if he knew.

"No. I haven't told him. I don't feel it's necessary to."

"I can respect that. But it doesn't change the fact that you're still family."

"With all due respect, Mr. Shelby, I have a family."

"I'm just saying, that's all. If you ever need a hand, you know where to find us."

You didnt bother replying since he was quick to stand, snuffing his cigarette out in the ashtray on the bar.

He stopped just before the door to set his cap on his head before glancing at you one more time on his way out.

You felt Bubba's eyes boring a hole into you so you quickly moved about, getting back to work. There was no doubt he'd be telling Alfie about this little visit. Tommy's a wise man; Bubba knew his visit was no coincidence despite having not been able to hear your conversation.

The truth would have to come out.

Once Eddie arrived to take over the night shift, you made your way a few streets over to the home you and Alfie shared.

Unlocking the door, you walked inside to hang your coat up. But from the corner of your eyes, you could a familiar shadow standing by the fireplace.

Alfie was never home this early. The lack of acknowledgement to your arrival made you certain something was up.

"Alfie. You're home early," you smiled walking towards him.

"Yeah, I am. I had an urgent matter to tend to myself."

"I see..." you nodded as you slowly drifted over towards him over the wooden floor that now felt like eggshells. Had Bubba told him about Tommy's visit? Had word spread about your relation?

"I heard tommy Shelby went to see you today... Care to tell me what that was about?"

"Before I tell you, Alf, there's something you should know."

As he lifted his gaze from the warm fire, his eyes carried the same softness he heard in your voice.

"I never told you this because I never thought it'd be relevant. But the truth is that I was adopted when I was a child... From Birmingham. I was 12 when my parents told me I'd been a Shelby."

You paused, hoping for some sort of reaction from Alfie, but there was nothing that could hint at his reaction.

"I didn't even who they were until that day I went your office. To be quite honest, I didn't even think any of them remembered me. That's why he came to the Glass & Barrel, to tell me he knew it was me."

Unbeknownst to you, Alfie already knew the truth. There was a doubt in the back of his mind that questioned - if you did in fact know your biological family - where your allegiance would lay and, at this point, it was only growing within.

His doubt consumed him, slowly but surely, over the following days. Everything had changed.

You first noticed that Alfie started missing dinner. After you moved in together, he was always home for dinner.

The mornings you once used to treasure due to the breakfast you shared with him were shared only with the presence of Cyril.

Gone before you woke up and home after you'd fallen asleep.

This night, you decided you were not going to bed. Tonight would be the night you confronted him.

The exhaustion of the day was beginning to set in. Your eyes felt heavy as you struggled to read your book, attempting to keep yourself awake.

Cyril, whose head was resting on your lap to be petted, snored peacefully. Blissfully unaware of your brewing angst.

Adrenaline quickly chased away and drowsiness you felt the minute you heard Alfie's car outside. It was now or never.

You waited for him to unlock the door and hang his coat up along with with his hat, still seated on the couch.

Alfie noticed the living room light on as he walked towards it and spotted you on the couch.

"Bit late, innit love? Should be in bed."

"Why are you avoiding me, Alfie?"

"No one's avoiding you," his foot was already on the first step of the stairs. Your anger quickly turned to tears as he proved you right.

"Then stay down here and face me, damn it."

Your hands trembled as you marched towards the stairs. Alfie stopped halfway up them when he turned to face you.

"I did not choose this, Alfie. I did not ask you be a Shelby. I did not choose the family I was born into. But if there's one thing I did choose was you."

Silences lingered heavily. His blue eyes stared down his nose at you. Your chest rose and fell with the adrenaline and flood of emotions coursing through you. As frustrated as you were, you didn't want to hate him. You couldn't if you tried.

Alfie hadn't thought about how his attitude would have affected you. He needed time to think. He trusted you blindly, but not knowing if your allegiance could change paralyzed him.

He watched how deeply emotional you were about his absence and realized that - the same way you chose to leave your biological family in the past despite knowing who they were - he needed to make a choice too.

He walked down the stairs until he stood before you.

"You're right, love," he nodded gazing into your tear-filled eyes. "I'm sorry, yeah?"

His palm met your cheeks as he cradled your face in his hands.

"I'm sorry."

"Do you really think I would betray you, Alf?"

Your hands wrapped lightly around his wrists.

"For a moment, I wasn't sure if I'm not honest. Fuck, love. You gotta see from my side, yeah? Just wasn't expecting the love of my life, the apple of my eye, to be a Shelby. And that you knew."

"I didn't it mattered, Alf. I'm no Shelby. This is where my family is. In this house, here with you. I'm a soon-to-be Solomons."

"Right, you fucking are," he whispered wiping an escaping tear from your cheek.

"I choose you, Alfie. You know that, don't you?"

"Yeah, love. C'mere," his arms opened and welcomes you into his embrace. "I choose you too."

[swanimagines]

CAUGHT IN HIS WORLD | KAZ BREKKER

Summary: Kaz asking you to accompany him for a job makes you think it'd be a nice opportunity to spend time with him, but instead you end up breaking and entering to one of the most feared gang's warehouse, and that doesn't exactly meet your morals.

You had always been a good and obedient child, raised in a wealthy family of merchants, that valued order and stability. But there was one person who made you question who you were, who you were supposed to be - and that person was Kaz Brekker.

The boy quickly gaining reputation as a ruthless killer, a child demon. He’d even get called Dirtyhands after he started to wear his gloves, for all the horrible things he did - some kids not much younger than him were taught that if they didn’t behave, Dirtyhands would come and take them. Him breaking his leg and getting a cane just intensified the rumours somehow, even the weakness was turned into something scary.

And you had fallen for him of all people. You had tried to push your feelings down - you really had. But it wasn’t that simple, maybe the life he lived was why you felt so drawn to him. So you sought for his company, hung out with him as much as he let you, and eventually he seemed to warm up to you too. Or at least he didn’t snap at you as much as before.

One day, Kaz asked if you wanted to accompany him for a job. He was being vague about the details, but honestly you didn’t mind, you’d enjoy spending time with him - even if a small voice at the back of your head was telling you that it was a bad idea. So here you were, walking through the dark alleys of Ketterdam, slightly uneasy about shady people lurking in the shadows. You thanked the Saints you were with Kaz while there, he’d kill everyone trying to ambush you, and people knew it.

Finally, you stopped in front of a warehouse and Kaz scanned his surroundings quickly. His gaze fell on the large lock hanging from the door and took out a small pouch of lockpicks, laying his cane against the wall and kneeling down on his good leg as he started working on the lock.

Was he breaking into a warehouse? Your heart started pounding in your chest, you had known in a way that you shouldn’t have come with him, but you had been too wrapped around Kaz’s dangerous aura to resist it.

“Wait,” you asked, for some reason hoping Kaz had a legitimate reason to do it. “Do we have a permission to do this?”

“Of course,” he replied, not even glancing at you. “Hein Middelesch asked me to snatch some jewelry and some papers to claim the ownership of certain shops at the Barrel. He’s a real gentleman, helping a rivaling gang like that.”

You swallowed, recognising the name. “H-Hein Middelesch? The leader of Grinning Cats? Kaz-”

The lock gave a click on that moment and opened, and then the door was open, and Kaz headed inside, without letting you finish the sentence.

The warehouse wasn’t that big, but the clicks of Kaz’s cane still echoed through the hall. You followed him meekly, feeling like you had just committed a murder of some kind. Kaz began looking through the cabinets and boxes, once in a while stuffing items to his pockets, and you glanced around, basically being scared of your own shadow.

After a few minutes of just standing there, you cleared your throat. “Kaz, um. I don’t know if it’s wise to be here. What if we get caught? The Cats are known to dig eyes out–”

“You can always walk out of the door.” Kaz interrupted, not even giving you a glance.

You sighed. “I… I don’t want to leave you here alone. It’s just that, my family wouldn’t think this is a good idea.”

Kaz moved onto the next box, and you almost heard an eyeroll in his words. “Of course they wouldn’t, they’re too busy to count their kruge and looking down at us Barrel rats.”

You felt a twinge of anger at his words. “That’s not fair. My family has worked hard for our wealth, unlike Pekka Rollins for example.”

Kaz’s shoulders tensed at the mention of his arch nemesis, his hands pausing for a moment. But then he continued, “Sure they did. And they’d be absolutely thrilled to know that their little princess is here, having broken in into a warehouse with me.”

“I'm not a princess. And I didn’t break in. You did. I agreed to come with you just to spend time with you. I didn’t know you’d do something like this. Clearly I made a mistake.” 

Kaz stood up, finally turning to look at you. His face had his usual scowl, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at you. “You sure are quick to turn against me.”

You crossed your arms, groaning. “I’m not turning against you, Kaz. I just don’t want to get into trouble.”

Kaz let out a snort. "Doing something like this probably isn't what you've been used to? Being acquaintances with me and assuming you'll never get your hands dirty isn't an option."

He always called you an acquaintance. Not a friend. Acquaintance. You had come to hate that word by now. You fought with your heart for a moment, before you finally gave in to it.

“Alright,” you grumbled, taking a look at the boxes around the hall. “What shelf should I look through?”

Kaz smirked, nodding over to the shelf next to the one he had been rummaging through. “Start with that one.”

You slowly walked over to it, taking in a deep sigh before you peeked into the first box. You definitely didn’t feel like you were in your element, but you knew that what Kaz said was true - in the Barrel, you either adapt or you die. It was harsh and cruel, but it was the truth. And as much as it went against your morals, you wanted to help Kaz to survive. Being a Dreg didn’t come for free, and there was no way Kaz would let that life go. Something had happened to him prior to meeting you, something involving Pekka Rollins, and his revenge required him to become powerful. The kind of powerful that didn’t come the legitimate way.

Deep down, you knew that this path you were going with Kaz Brekker could bring you into the criminal world - your family could disown you, you could end up in the street. But still, in a twisted way, this was something you felt right about doing. Even when you were reluctant about it, you felt like you were part of something that would help Kaz in a way you would never be able to help anyone else. You weren’t sure where that feeling came from, but you were always drifting back to Kaz, back in his company, somewhere you didn't belong. Maybe things would sort themselves out in the end. Maybe Kaz would start calling you a friend instead of an acquaintance. And maybe… 

Maybe there would be something more waiting for you and Kaz. 

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[bitegore]

I’ve been wanting to get a cane for a good while now, but something in the back of my mind just feels weird about it in a way I can’t quite kill off. I have broad pectus excavatum, which compresses my heart and lungs to a certain degree. This affects my tolerance for exercise and makes me exhausted from simple things like getting up and using stairs. Doctors say that my heart isn’t compressed enough to have a tangible effect on my day-to-day life, but I still feel like it does. And my sister gets on my case for even speculating about having a disability that I haven’t been diagnosed with because she fried herself on Reddit r/fakedisability discourse and thinks I’m doing it for attention, so I don’t even know what her reaction would be to getting a cane. I guess I just don’t feel disabled enough for a mobility aid, even though intellectually I know that I can do whatever I want forever… I’m worried its some form of internalized ableism that I’ll have to unpack, lol. Idk, can you relate? Do you need to get a cane from a medical professional?

-

Ah, I can't say I relate - my issues are very, very different - but I know for a fact you can get a cane in places like Walgreens and CVS (and if you're outside the US, likely at other pharmacy type convenience stores as well). You'll have to pay out of pocket for them and they're not custom-made for your issues, but my mom bought one from CVS when I was a kid and it helped her out when she had issues with her ankles. So that's one issue down.

I would say to ignore your sister + if she can't mind her fucking business you can always lie and say a doctor or some other medical professional or w/e told you you could get it if you thought it'd be helpful. But I really don't think her response should be... idk, relevant? Like you said, she's fried her brain on r/fakedisability and anything she says is going to be unhelpful and stupid.

"Disabled enough for a mobility aid" is. How do I put this. There is no such thing as 'disabled enough' for a mobility aid to Society, the message is always that you can try harder unless you literally cannot move at all and if you have even the slightest amount of mobility you shouldn't use a mobility aid at all. So it's a losing game no matter what. Instead I figure if you think it'll help you, get a cheap cane and find out how to adjust it to fit you, see if it'll help, and if it doesn't help then like idk see if you can give it to someone who'll need it. You'll never know if you don't try and you'll never satisfy the question if you don't find out, I figure. If you don't have the funds for it then that's irrelevant but a bunch of these are like, $25, that seems about reasonable to me.

I don't think I'm really the guy to ask about this, but like, idk I am on the "do whatever you want forever" train and it sounds like this is something you at least want to try. So I think you should try it. And if it works out then you should probably look into getting a real deal cane that is actually suited for you and won't hurt your hands or wrists, because I know that can be an issue with the cheaper canes, but then you'll be able to have an easier time with walking and stuff, and if it doesn't work out then you know it's not what you need.

[trixeraptops]

My second ever commentary post how fun

This time it's Enola Holmes 2

This is a live reaction so there is no context, suffer.

Warnings for swearing and all capsAnyways let's hop in the carriage and travel back to Victorian(?) England.

Ooh letter burning for the logo fun

Ok I doubt any of this is true don't lie to me bitch

Why is she running away from the police?What did she do

I will say she looks good

Yeah you should explain and I do remember you

Oh yay she opened a detective agency

Awww she kept Dash how cute

But didn't she give it Sherlock in the end of the last movie?

She forgot how sexist and ageist her time period is lmao

Hah they all just want Sherlock221B!!!!!

Trying not to draw attention, blows up a mailbox

Tewksbury is champion for change and progress I love it

Girl you have time for a little distraction you fucking tsundere

Chrysanthe-mum

Oh her agency is already shut down

2who is it

Aw a little girl she's so. Cute I love her scarf

Ooh the cinematic shot

Enola looks so out of place lol

I hope this is pro Bono I don't think this girl has much

Enola don't look so put off, not everyone is rich as you

Ew rat

We weren't sisters in the usual way, love that

It soesnt mean anything to the Lil one but to Mae it clearly does

Aw this is so sweet

The game is afoot Jesus your finding a missing person not hunting one

Changed her name to Hilda

They're looking for disease at the entrance omg

Bruv you're gonna get yourself and bessie in trouble bruv

That was smart tho

Ooh torn pages that's sus

She stole the pages?

Oh that woman has such a soft voice it's so pretty but I can't hear her

Mae definetely knows somethingMae was involves in the theft o.o

Haha 'young lady I'm afraid I'm married'

Damn she's in a bar and it's fucking rowdy in here

Mae is a showgirl isn't she?

She is

That was a fun jaunty number

The missing worked with Mae as a showgirl

Jesus Mae

Lol fake knife

False bottom! I knew she was a top lmao

It's a sappy romance poem

She ran away to marry someone didnt she?Ooh drama

Dun dunbdun mysterious blurred fellow in the background

Ew he's following her

He hid but he's very loud what is cane made of metal?

Sherlock! He's drunk

Lol roasted

His bullshit tips are everything

Now sh I'm thinking you should write that down

You shouldn't get so drunk ehen you have no way home write that down

Wait is she gonna live with her brother or is this is a John reveal?

Jesus christ he's really fucking observant even when drunk and hungover

I don't need tour help! But I'm still taking the food you offered

Don't speak with a mouthful

Tewksbury!!!

Ooh she sits where he walks to work so they can run jnto each other.

She looks so upset after making a joke

That was so awkward lmao

Feel a need?

It's a coded poem! Open mouth

She's so excited

You didn't have to say you don't sew bruv we get it your not like other girls

I doubt this case will get media coverage

The doors open o.o

Suspecious...But not as sus as her for breaking into someone's house

Oh this shows a struggle and abandonment

MAE she's dead!

This case just got alot more interesting

Inspector!

It'd mr.clangy

Sarah is wanted oof

Oh he tried to be respectful but superintendent is a bitch

I hate this guy I'm calling him mr.clangy forever now

Lestrade is so fucking calm, your boss just got punched in the gut

Hah he doesn't remember you bruv

Just a friendly visit cause your sis is running away from the cops

I cant I can't, maybe I can

He's such a fangirl omg

Damn she roof hopping

Shit she almost fell, she gone die

Wait what the fuck

Enola Holmes is turning all the men in England trans lol

I wonder if the cases are related

Wait Moriarty maybe?

I'm a slut for BBC Sherlock so forgive all the speculation that's purely based on BBC Sherlock, I know they aren't related

He has this walk

Grail

Immediate recognition lmao

AH VIOLIN

Enola looks weirded out

You tell Sherlock! She made it bout herself, she wants media attention not to help

Haha callback

He just walks past them lmao

I think Poppy might be a chick but I could be wrong

A hat! Dun dun dunnn

A TAPER CROWN HAT I KNEWBTHEY WERE RELATED

It's not a date it's a place!

Williams for reds not a Poppy at all

I'm going to a ball yay! Ew

Smh Enola

I love her cloak

Her dress is so pretty

Why is the music so sus when they light the cake

Lol the chaperone

She keeps forgetting what her society is like

Bitch you live here how do you forget this shit

He's actually leading Sherlock in a dance lmao

Oh she gone get caught

Tabitha Timothy lol

Fan language!!! Oh thats so clever and cute!

But she doesn't know fan language hahaha she immediately messed up

Omg Tewkesbury

Of course he's doing something with plants

This is so weird and cute i love their little relationship

Haha I love her

You're a man when I say soShe's such a bitch

She's a natural at dancing or maybe just with Tewksbury

What does that mean lmao

Don't touch the ginger cake!

Wait dance cards are an actual thing lmao

ID the writing ON SIGHT

TSUNDERE

jealous bitch

Cicely seems nice, she complimented Enola even if she had an outdated dress

Dislocated and I'll scream, ICON

He knows Bessie!

Ooh a secret meeting how funBunch of random letters returns

ITS MORIARTY OMG OMG

I LOVE THIS

I hope their as gay as the BBC

Oh my lord JUST SAY ITS ABOUT YOUR CASE

Not the police barging in

She gave him her evidence! How sweet

Cecily is the only one who looks concerned for her everyone else is making fun of her

Keep silent Enola!

Shut up mr.clangy no one likes you

Oh no he's gonna kill Bessie isn't he :(

His job is to kill match girls who are needling out the corruption?

Sexist

Oooh mr.clangy stopped Sherlock from getting her

Oof

POLICEMAN IS HIDING HIS HAND

Those fingerprints are blurry at best

Ohmygod I was typing the last line then Sherlock kicked a fucking sign and scared a cat

It's the jujitsu woman!

It's ok you can say it

Ew I don't like how that guard looked at Enola

Wtf whyd they push her into the center?They're gonna hang her? Or beat her? What?

IS IT HER MOM?!

No its jujitsu lady

AND HER MOM

Prison break bitches

Her mom really likes bombs huh

Carriage chase carriage chase

Theure giving people typhus or something

He's gonna jump on isn't heNot anymore lol

Mr.clangy you bitch stop shooting st them

You go girl

Holy shit he just broke their wheel

I hope the horses are all right

Probably are they disappeared with the crash

Fuck off you bitch

I LOVE THEM, I LOVE THEM OMG

HOLY TRINITY INDEED

DAMN HE GOING FOR THE KILL

THE CARRIAGE IS A BOMB

Genius

Aw they changed her into new clothes how nice

Her mother is initiating boy talk

He ain't my Boi

I love that's she's acknowledging her part in Enola self isolating

She's encouraging her to get allies ♡

I love these women

She just winked? Why?

Get a haircut as your parting word lmao

I knew it

They're killing the match girls by giving them typhus through the MATCHES

FUCK YES

And Sarah figured it out

She and Mae were expirementing eith it

Genius

They tested flies, mice, plants

Extraordinary I love them

She went to Tewkesbury!!!

His flat is filled with flowers and plants ♡♡♡♡

I love him

Yay their allies

Jealous bitch

IS CECILY SARAH?!

Shut up you awkward bruv

SHE IS

I FIGURED IT OUT MOTHERFUCKER

To be fair they spelled it out

TEWKESBURY YOUR NOT EVEN COURTING AND YIU DAID ILY

She sent Ily to William too

OHMYGOD I LOVE THIS

SHE HIT HIM

AAAHAHHHHHHH SHE RETUREND FEELINGS OMG OMG OMG

We live we laugh we love

Just tell em your a lord, I am, then they'll believe you omg

Sherlock!

The contempt in their voices I love this sibling dynamic

I knew they were connected I KNEW

Is that guy dead

He is

Mr.clangy

Moriarty is dead :(

Haha Tewkesbury

It's a set up!

Is Moriarty actually alive

He is

Ooh William thankyou for golding onto that

It's a letter isn't it

Nope map

Dora Dora Dora the explora

He can't fight lol

She's just beating him up until he pussies up and fights her

AH THEY KISSED

After she punched him multiple times lol

They're so cute

Secret treasure

SARAH!

She was wearing a wig this whole time damn

Uh oh they have to tell her he's dead

Aww poor Sarah ♡

Ew mr.clangy

BESSIE NO

YOU GO BESSIE BITE HIS ASS

SHERLOCK NO

Tewksbury is getting fucked up

Ooh but he's got a sword now

Fuck off clangy

Did Sherlock just kill someone?

How many bullets has he got? It's a small gun can't be too many

HAHA HE RAN OUT FUCK YOU CLANGY

ENOLA NO

Retractable knife for the win!

Ah shit she got knicked in the head real bad

Yes Tewkesbury fuck him up and get your girl

Shit clangy is dead Enola full ass killed him

Now that murder charge is valid

Sherlock you dramatic bitch

THE SOFT VOIXE WOMEN IS MORIARTY

WHAT A TWIST

I LOVE THIS

Go off queen! Tell him, dick him down verbally

Society creates yet another villain

For now at least, love thatOh no is the bad guy gonna win?

He paper burning is beautiful though

But the movie isn't over yet

Revolution!

Shut up boss man

Sometimes an inspiring speech doesn't work

At least not right away

Yiu go Bessie I love you girl

This is amazing I love this

I think this music was at the end of the other movie too

She runs her agency out of the fighting place now :)

Holmes and Holmes ♡♡♡♡

But I glad she refused

The running write that down gag ♡

They're gonna meet with jne another ♡

Ah they're so cute

MORIARTY ESCAPED O.O

I love them so much

Ohhhh the true part was Match Girl Strike that makes more sense

I thought I heard of match girls before

ENILA GOT HIM A FLATMAYE LMAO

IS THIS JOHN

IT IS OMG OMG OMG

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH

♡♡♡♡/5 I loved this movie

[c-oswinwrites-x]

Flightless Bird

Chapter/Part/Whatever the fuck you want to call it 1

CWs: Suicide mentions, internalised ableism, body dysphoria, shipping.

If any of this makes you uncomfortable, please, don't read it. I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable with my writing.

I stood on a roof, preparing to jump. You might be wondering why was about to jump off a roof. Well, it's simple. I'm an avian. I fly. Or at least, that's what I'm supposed to do. I have a stupid birth defect, meaning I can't fly. My wings are too small for my body. Not small enough to notice, but small enough that they can't support my weight. I've never met anyone else like me. I've never even met that many avians either though, so that might be a factor. Anyways, back to the roof.

All I could think of was my probable impending death. I knew I wasn't high enough to kill myself, but jumping off a roof is terrifying, no matter how high it is. I was about to jump, force myself to fly, when I noticed Scar. That awful, awful, beautiful man. No Grian. Stop thinking like that. He's neither of those things, least of all beautiful. Look at him for Xelqua's sake! Those eyes spell trouble Grian. Those gorgeous green eyes... that are so easy to get lost in. Shut up Grian. You don't have time for this!

Scar walked in my direction, a lot more bounce in his step than normal. His face fell when he saw me too. Oh gods, he thought I was going to kill myself... I pulled at my sleeve, trying desperately to think of how I explain... jumping off a roof... with no suicidal intentions... I couldn't think of what to say, so I just jumped, spreading my wings, hoping for the best. Of course, I fell. I don't know why I thought I'd be able to fly if I jumped off a roof. But at least I didn't get hurt too badly...I led on the ground for a minute, upset. I don't know why I thought it'd work. I don't know why I thought I'd ever be normal. Scar approached me, dropping his cane and crouching down beside me. I wish I was more like him. He knows he's not gonna wake up one day and be completely normal, and he's ok with that. He owns it. I wish I could do that. I wish I didn't force myself to do things I can't. I wish I could just accept that I'm disabled, and I will be for my whole life. I wish I could just accept that I'll never fly by myself.

"You alright?" Scar asked. "Mhm." I mumbled, too lost in my own thoughts to really pay attention to him. "Grian, as much as I would like to agree with you, you just jumped off a roof. You can trust me. What's wrong?" Scar replied. I snapped out of my thoughts at that. I turned to look at Scar. "I can explain!" I stuttered. Scar nodded at me. "It's complicated... I... can't fly. My wings are too small for my body... I don't know why I thought jumping off a roof would help me fly, I don't know why I even thought it was a good idea in the first place-" I started, talking far too fast. "Calm down Grian. Breathe. Now talk. Slow down. It's ok." Scar interrupted. Usually I'd be annoyed at being interrupted, but he helped a bit. "I can't fly." I said, trying to hide the obvious break in my voice, badly. "What? Don't say that!" Scar replied. "No, I literally can't. My wings are too small for my body. They physically cannot support my weight." I replied. "Oh." Scar whispered. "Come here." he said, louder this time.

I sat up slowly, suddenly feeling a sharp pain in my legs. I don't know what I expected, I mean, I jumped off a roof. I let out a sharp hiss, a noise I didn't even know I could still make. Scar wrapped an arm around me, running his fingers across the back of my head. I smiled at him, trying not to look like I was crying. Scar started talking, a slightly serious tone. I don't remember a word, I completely spaced out in his arms, trying to focus on anything other than the pain and failing spectacularly. I don't know how long we were there, but I eventually started paying attention to what he was saying again. "Do you think you can stand up?" he asked. "No..." I replied. "That's fine. I don't think I can either." Scar laughed. I wish I could joke around like that.

Scar placed a hand on my wing, just where it connects to my back. I shuddered. I've told him so many times why he shouldn't do that. It's not the kind of thing you do to your friend. But maybe that's not a bad thing... Shut up Grian. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. You don't have time for this! You have better things to think about than Scar! We sat there for a few minutes. "Maybe I should call someone." Scar mumbled. I didn't really want to get up, not when he was so close to me... and touching my wings like that... Grian! Stop thinking like that. I didn't really want to get up, but he was right. We couldn't just sit there forever.

[imagineitup]

𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩 (𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭, 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭) : 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵: chaotic, clumsy slytherin muggle, meets scorpius, who helps them? i think it'd be so cute ☺️☺️ hope you are well!

𝘢/𝘯: ok hear me out … scorpius coffee shop au 

𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵: when you spill the coffee order all over the attractive customer, you expect him to scream at you.  what you’re not expecting is for him to profusely apologize.  he even asks if you’re alright.  um, what?

- - 

“Double-shot espresso,” you call, raising an eyebrow at the name written on the receipt, “for Scorpius?”

It’s a strange name, that’s for sure.  You’ve seen your share of strange names, even though you go through the entire ordeal of trying to repress the last five years of your life.  You shake your head, trying to clear things out of your mind.  It’s near closing hours, and there’s only a few more minutes until you’ll get to leave.  Yet to your dismay, there are still people inside the coffee shop: students loitering around the dim lamplight and listening to music through tangled headphones, couples quietly holding their lover’s hand, little kids opening and closing the door to hear the whoosh of wind and soft bell clink. 

You let your eyes roam around the coffee shop, trying to guess who this ever elusive Scorpius is.  Maybe it's the older man leaning on his cane, doing his best to regard the different porcelain mugs despite failing eyesight.  It would make sense, considering this Scorpius hasn’t come to get his coffee yet.  Or maybe, even, the little kid yawning and tugging at his mom’s sleeve.  Little kids get all sorts of strange names these days, because apparently the more unique the better. 

“Scorpius?”  

But before you can contemplate any longer, there’s a screech of metal to your right, and you watch in amusement as an older boy your age comes running up to the counter, hopping on one foot in an attempt to regain the balance lost from his rush.  There’s another loud clatter as his chair leg regains its balance against the floor.  “Here, here, hi Scorpius --” he frowns, out of breath.  “Wait … you’re not … I’m Scorpius.”  His cheeks flood pink, and he runs a hand through his disheveled hair.  His eyes sheepishly meet yours.  “Sorry, I promise I haven’t done that in years.  Today’s just been a mess.”

Well.  You never thought this Scorpius would be cute.

But you end up laughing softly at him, shaking your head in amusement.  “I gathered.  You’re drinking a double-shot espresso at closing hours, and I think it’s safe to say I’m just a little concerned.”

“Pssh,” Scorpius says, shrugging bashfully.  “I just needed a jump after the apparating.  I’m exhausted.” 

You let out a screech.  Is he insane?  Your hands drop forward, and you watch in horror as the recycled paper cup you’re holding teeters forward and sloshes all over Scorpius and his nice coat.  The cup rolls against the floor, and you freeze, terrified.  Shit.

“Oh my god.  Oh my god I--”

“Agh,” Scorpius yelps, stepping backward to mournfully look at the coffee staining his wool sweater.  Then he bites back a hiss as he wrings out his hand, his bottom lip clenched in-between his teeth.  “Ouch.”

You’re suddenly all too aware of the other customers watching you with blank, unimpressed stares, some even going to the extent of ignoring you completely due to second-hand embarrassment.  The little kid with his mom finally manages to convince her to walk out the door, and the little bells jangle twice as they exit. 

You turn your attention back to Scorpius.  “I’m so, so sorry --”

Scorpius’s eyes quickly dart back to yours, and you wince, expecting him to yell.  Or at least hit you with a disgusted gaze and demand a refund.  But instead, he panics?  He steps forward again, clearly forgetting about the mess on the floor and the coffee sloshing against his shoes, and he reaches a tentative hand out toward you.  “Are you alright?  I’m so sorry!  I didn’t mean to make a mess, can I, can I help?  Fix it, I mean.”

What?

You’re speechless, all your words disappearing.  All you can do is stare in stupored awe, wide-eyed and speechless at the boy who stands across from you.  Here he is, this strange, strange boy, who talks about apparating out loud and apologizes to you for something that was entirely your own fault. 

“What?” Is all you can manage.  “Wh--”

“Are you okay?” Scorpius repeats, gently and clearly concerned.  “It was hot.  I, erm, really hope you didn’t burn yourself.”

“But I spilled it on you?” 

Scorpius shrugs.  “Well, must’ve been a reason, no?” He laughs bemusedly, shrugging good-naturedly.  “And besides, it’ll dry out in seconds.  It’s no big deal.” 

“But your sweater …” 

“I’ll just magic it out.”  

Your mouth drops open.  He didn’t seriously just say that, did he?

Scorpius stuffs his hand over his mouth, and then stammers, “I mean, the washing machine will do wonders.  Like magic.”  He turns, grabbing a handful of napkins from the counter and immediately starts dropping them to the floor, using his foot to seep up the coffee. 

You watch him with wide eyes.  “I’ll do it, you just sit --”

“No, it’s the least I can do --”

“Oh my god, I’ll get a mop.”

You run into the back room, the double doors swinging behind you as you let your face fall into your hands.  After taking in a few breaths, you let your eyes scan around the cabinets and extra bags of coffee grounds, and you shakily reach for the mop in the corner, nearly knocking over a box of glass supplies. 

When you re-emerge from the back room, you watch with bewilderment as Scorpius reaches for something in his jacket pocket, freezing when he sees you.  “Oh, perfect!” 

He cheerfully takes the mop from you, all too eager to help clean up. 

“Hey, wait a minute.  You want anything to eat?” 

Scorpius’ eyes widen, and he sneaks a look at the pastry shelf.  “No, I … I shouldn’t.  Albus didn’t give me that much muggle money,” he sneaks a look at the coins held in his hand, “he only gave me these.  Said it was enough for the espresso?”

Albus?  This Scorpius really ain’t sly. 

But you nod, busying yourself with fixing him another espresso, this time making sure to create it as perfectly as you can and to fill it to the brim.  As soon as you slip the lid atop the cup, you wander over to the patisserie display, reaching for the metal tongs to sneak in two iced gingerbread men and a loaf of banana bread.

“Scorpius?” 

He perks up, leaning against the mop and then stumbling, flushing a bright red.  He quickly places the mop against the side of the wall, and then turns to you as he sees the drink in your hands, pleased.  “Is that my espresso?”

You nod, handing him the cup (carefully this time), and then the parcel of baked goods.  “Here.  It’s the least I can do.  It’s on the house.” 

Scorpius blinks.  He tilts his head slightly to the side, his eyes filling with awe.  “Wow,” he whispers, his lips parting.  Then he gingerly reaches out to take the parcel, his face lighting up as he looks inside.  “You gave me three?”

You smile sheepishly.  “Yeah.” 

Scorpius attempts to slide over the coins he has, but you stop him, placing your hand over his and pushing the coins back to him.  “It’s on the house.”

“On the house?” 

“Free.”

Scorpius’s mouth drops open.  “But --”

“But what?”

“But I can’t accept this.”

“Well, you’re going to.”  You laugh, shrugging.  “Tell Albus Potter to teach you more about muggle etiquette.”

Scorpius grins.  And then he frowns, eyebrows scrunching up.  “Wait, what? Muggle?  What’s that?  I mean, what?  Erm, how do you know that?” 

You laugh, lips twisting up into an easy smirk.  “I’m a Hogwarts drop-out.  Magic wasn’t really my thing, so I decided to come back.  Finish up school and work here on the side.”

“But how’d you know --”

You hold up a finger, “you mentioned apparating,” you hold up another finger, “literally said ‘muggle money’,” and then a third finger, “and then you said Albus.  The Potter’s are practically famous, you know.”

Scorpius flushes pink. 

“And the phrase, ‘on the house’.”

Scorpius looks at his shoes, obviously flustered.  “Oh, I, uh --”

“It’s cute, though.  You should come back, one day.  I’d give you my number, but I don’t think you have a phone.”

Scorpius frowns, then smiles shyly.  “Do you have an owl?” 

You quickly write your address down on a napkin.  “Here.  Owl me one day.”

Scorpius’s fingers fumble as he reaches for it, and the smile that spreads across his face lights up the room.  “Okay.  I’ll come back.  And I’ll write you.  Every day!”

You laugh.  “I’m counting on it.”

[heaven-in-a-wild-flower]

Crows Headcanon: Wesper Headcanon (Wylan Van Eck and Jesper Fahey)

If you’d rather read this and more Crows headcanons on ao3 here’s the link.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Previous Chapter (Chapter 5)

Chapter 6 (the chapters aren’t related and do not continue the story, each can be read separately)

Wylan

It was inevitable. Their first fight. Of course, they'd fight at some point, living together. It began as everything does, small and barely noticeable. There would be tiny squabbles about clothes strewn about in the room, trinkets never returned to their places. Then it grew and grew, never-ending poisonous vines wrapping around them, strangling them. They spent every moment apart thinking of flaws with the other and every moment together pointing it out.

Just this morning Jesper grumbled about being too warm when Wylan woke up wrapped around him in the morning (even in sleep, his body knows what it really wants, too bad his mind isn't as smart right now). And Wylan knew, he <i>knew</i> that Jesper probably meant nothing by it. But his mind immediately began spewing venom into his heart. <i>You will only ever be a burden. He says he loves you, but he's already tired of you. How much longer do you think he'll stay here when he could have anyone?</i> But he's stubborn and strong and, he refused to show his heart because what else is that but an invitation to stab? So he pulled away and said, "Fine, then. If it's such an inconvenience then I won't touch you at all." And he walked out of the room, tears stinging in his eyes.

Jesper

I know I messed up. I've been messing up constantly. All of this is so new to me. I didn't know it would be this difficult to stay with someone. I've shared so many beds but I've never before shared a room. I didn't realise that it would bother someone else that my clothes aren't always in the cupboard. At first, it frustrated me that he would find faults with me all the time. It reinforced those voices in my brain that told me that I'd never be enough. So I took out those frustrations the way I always have, in cards and drinks and coins.

For a while, it was fine. I thought I'd fixed it somehow. Then, he started noticing more money missing. And he was so so angry. What else did I expect from a bomb-maker, if not an explosive temper? I knew that it wasn't working. I knew it was wrong. I knew that it wasn't truly helping me at all. But it scared me, terrified me that he'd already noticed all the worst things about me, and had to be stuck with that all the time. I realised then that this wasn't going to last much longer. So I gave up. I stopped trying to fix anything between us and just continued to feed the fire. If this is going to end anyway, what was even the point? What would be the point of telling me to please stay, please let me stay? How could I even convince him? He'd seen the worst things, the darkness behind my flirtatious smiles. He's let me stay for months now, and he hates it. He hates <i>me</i>, here. What could I ever do about that?

Even this morning, I complained about being too warm when he'd wrapped his body around me. I'd just gotten up, and for a single moment, I'd forgotten. I'd forgotten that we'd gone from being lovers, loved, loving, to...fighting. I'd forgotten that every word would be taken as a bullet. He'd flinched away from me (it made my heart <i>hurt</i>) and snarled, "Fine, then. If it's such an inconvenience then I won't touch you at all." And he'd stormed out of the room.

I raised a hand automatically, about to stop him. But what could I say? I'd only ever been good at destroying things, not fixing them. So I dropped my hand and laid back on the bed, eyes closed to keep the tears in, not succeeding in the least.

Wylan

It got so bad that even Inej and Kaz began to notice. They'd visit from time to time, either for his help or Jesper's. And naturally, they felt the crackling tension in the air. They never said anything about it, but he could see them exchanging glances, communicating in that way that only they could. It reminded him of the way he and Jesper used to communicate. The gentle brushing of their hands, stray touches on the elbow or shoulder, and he had to stop and take a deep breath to clear the constriction in his lungs.

They were both so tired of fighting all the time that even that had stopped. He never thought he'd miss fighting, but he did. At least then, Jesper was paying attention to him, even if he was smirking thoughtlessly. But now, nothing. They simply avoided each other around the house. He'd enter the kitchen, and Jesper would walk out. Jesper would enter our bedroom, and he'd leave. Even at night, Jesper would stay out so late that they never went to bed together. They did still sleep in the same room, the same bed. They still had that, but he didn't know how much longer even that'd last. So when he inevitably woke up first every morning, he'd stare and stare and stare. He'd caress every inch of Jesper's brown skin that he could see, just with his eyes, hand itching to touch.

He made sure never to get close to him, knowing that he wouldn't be able to let him go. He'd latch onto him and hold on forever.

Jesper

The silence was so loud it was deafening. It made his hair stand on end. He hated this silence, but he also didn't know how to break it. It'd grown so huge, a looming monster growing between them, and he knew no way of vanquishing it. So he let it be. He let Wylan avoid his touch like he had something contagious, and he let him keep as much distance as he wanted, even as his heart shrivelled every time it happened.

The only way he now knew to protect his heart was to stay out of the house. He didn't think that he'd ever need to protect his heart from Wylan. He couldn't believe that this is what it'd come to.

He came home every night, skin chill from the wind outside, aching to sink into Wylan's warmth and knowing he wasn't allowed. So he stared and stared and stared and drank whatever warmth he could from those bright curls and freckled skin. And in his dreams, the only thing he saw, over and over again, were those azure eyes gazing at him like they once did, in love.

Kaz

He'd had enough. What now that they didn't have any problems those idiots decided to make some of their own? He would not let this stand, not a chance.

Inej

She knew that gleam in his eyes. He had a plan, and since it was Kaz's, it was expected that it'd be devious. But, she knew for once that it was with the best of intentions. So she listened attentively when he told her and smiled a tiny proud smile when he was done.

Wylan

It was an overcast evening, and he shivered as he made himself a cup of hot chocolate. Jesper was out, of course, doing whatever he did every day. He didn't know. How could he if they didn't talk anymore? So he took out his flute and tried to practice, tried to ignore his trembling hands. Suddenly there was a loud banging on the door. He dropped the flute and ran for it, only taking a second to check who it was. Inej.

He yanked open the door. She wouldn't bang it like that if there wasn't an emergency. She looked worried, eyebrows furrowed and eyes wide.

What's happened?" he asked.

"Jesper...he's missing," she said, suddenly wilting. His heart stopped.

"What?" he whispered, his voice breaking.

"Kaz needed him for a job, so I went to get him. I checked all his usual joints, and he wasn't there anywhere," she looked pitying now. She'd definitely noticed the way his skin grew paler. If even the Wraith couldn't find him, where could he be? What-what could've happened to him?

"But," she said and he perked up immediately, "we think we know who could've taken him."

It takes them half an hour to make a plan to rescue him, hoping desperately that they were going to the right place. Inej instructs him on which bombs they need, and they set off.

Jesper

It can't be true. It could not be true. Not again. Kaz just told him that one of his rivals had kidnapped Wylan. They were now waiting for him to come to them and demand the ransom. How could this have happened? Why Wylan? He hoped with all his heart that they were at least treating him well, knowing that that wasn't very likely. As they sat there, a fire burned in his belly. He felt hatred rise like a storm inside him. He would not be merciful with whoever had kidnapped Wylan.

He didn't understand how Kaz could just sit there, relaxed as though nothing had happened. No, he knew that maintaining a veneer of calmness would make it easier to negotiate with the kidnapper. But he still couldn't stop his fists from clenching and his jaw from tensing. He tried to breathe deeply, telling himself that the kidnapper wouldn't kill Wylan because that would get him nothing. Wylan would be okay. He had to be. He couldn't die. He couldn't die, with Jesper not able to recollect the last time he touched him, the last word he told him.

So they waited. Jesper grew more and more jittery, legs shaking and fingers tapping and fidgeting. Kaz somehow grew calmer and calmer, cane resting gently on his lap, utterly in his element, ready to do his part.

When the outer door slammed open, Jesper stood up abruptly, and Kaz gripped his cane tighter. The door opened and in came charging...

Wylan

Finally, they got through the gate, and the soldiers posted outside and entered an empty room. He didn't waste a second. The moment he noticed the other door in the room, he rushed at it, pushing it open. And there he was. He ran to Jesper and hugged him, holding on so so tightly. He was so relieved to find him that he didn't even wonder why Jesper wasn't tied up and gagged.

"You're okay, you're okay," he chanted, under his breath, still unwilling to let go of his sharpshooter. Jesper held him in return, nestling his head in Wylan's curls, speechless for once. After a few minutes, or seconds, or hours, or an eternity, he pulled back a little to see Jesper wide-eyed, looking at him like he was a ghost.

"I'm sorry," they both blurted out at once, and they laughed and sobbed at that.

"No, no, I should be the one to apologise. I'm so sorry for being such a mess. The clothes and my other things and the gambling. Oh, I knew I needed to stop, and I couldn't and then- and then-" Jesper babbled.

"No! Don't be sorry. I'll help you, we'll do it together. Okay? I'm sorry too. It was all so perfect, and it scared me. I was so scared that you'd leave that I nearly drove you to leave myself," he said, staring right into Jesper's eyes so he'd understand.

"Okay. But just so you know, I never would've left," Jesper tells him, looking back just as intensely.

"Okay. That's good," Wylan says, chuckling, suddenly embarrassed.

Jesper tilts his chin back up and gazing into his eyes the whole time, kisses him. Wylan responds ravenously, and well...it all works out. They remind the other that they love them, that they always have and always will. And when they realise what Kaz and Inej tricked them into, Wylan is outraged, and Jesper just laughs and laughs and laughs (Wylan then kisses him, hearing the laughs echo in his heart).

Next chapter (Chapter 7)

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

[thecrystalquill]

Love/Hate

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1,500+

Summary: Draco and (Y/N) hate each other; it's easier for Draco to hate than to love. But when push comes to shove, a little love might be just what they need.

A/N: Hey! Finally it's Part 4! Might be a while until the next part (writer's block is catching up to me) but enjoy this one!

Masterlist    Series Masterlist

Chapter 4

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‘What's the spell for disintegrating something?' (Y/N) thought; she had been studying for the last two hours and her brain had started to become too tired to function properly. The library was quite full with other students hoping to finish their homework before the Christmas holidays or fit in some last-minute studies, and a few were being a little distracting – those few were sitting right in front of (Y/N) and happened to be her friends.

“My parents said they might get me an owl – I’d want a tawny owl but I think they’d probably get me a barn owl.”

“Wouldn’t it be great if we were allowed dogs here? I’d definitely have one.”“Not at all! You know what dogs’re like, they’d be fighting and they’d need walking and attention – which no one would have time for – and they’re so much louder than cats or owls—”

“Guys…” (Y/N) groaned tiredly, resting her head on her hand, “if you’re gonna keep talking, could you at least do it quieter?” She picked up her quill again as her friends raised their hands in surrender. “Also, what’s the spell for disintegration?”

“Deletrius – the eradication spell,” Maven answered boredly as she reopened the potions book she’d forgotten about.

Gasping, (Y/N) mentally scolded herself for forgetting as she scribbled down the spell; charms was usually one of her best subjects, but lately she’d been forgetting things that she already knew and lost focus too easily.

“You doing anything over the holidays, (Y/N)?” Penny asked, a quieter Hufflepuff that (Y/N) didn’t know so well, but treated her like her other friends just the same. 

Looking up from her papers, (Y/N) stuttered for a response. “O-oh… um… n-no. no I’m not, er, doing anything. Nothing special.” She cleared her throat before folding away her papers and putting the lid on her ink. “Hey, Naida, where was that divination book you found last week?”

The red-haired girl looked her way and blew a curl out of her face, "Over there, fourth shelf." She yawned, pointing in the general direction. 

Nodding, (Y/N) got up on her hunt for the textbook for yet another class she'd been struggling in.

Draco was sat in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express, staring out of the window as they neared the station. "Mother and Father already wrote to me," he told his companions boastfully, "they said we're having a Christmas party.  Mother's very excited, but I'm sure it'll be just as boring as anything. Your families have been invited, haven't they?"

Crabbe and Goyle nodded, then Blaise decided to speak up; not letting Draco dominate the conversation. "Yeah, my parents said it's gonna be fancy, have to dress up. I bet we're gonna have to… like… dance." He frowned, the others groaning in agreement; because, really, who wants to do that?

"Well then, you'll just have to avoid your parents at all costs, won't you?" Draco offered with a smirk, knowing all of their parents would be eyeing them all night.

Blaise was about to respond, when the train came to a stop, cutting him off. 

The boys collected their things and exited the train, starting their search for their parents. Draco looked around for a minute, before finally making his way to his parents, who had already collected his trunk from the train.

"Draco," his Mother smiled as he appeared in her view, she gave the boy a small hug then pulled back to see his face. "How are you? Your classes are going well, I assume?"

"Yes, Mother." He nodded with a half-smile, which disappeared when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

His Father looked down on him, patting his shoulder in so-called affection. "Draco," he nodded. 

Clearing his throat, the boy straightened his posture before replying. "Father," he nodded in return. 

"Has everything been going well at school?"

"Yes Father," he said simply. 

"Well," Narcissa began, clasping her hands together, "let's head home now, shall we? I'm sure you've had a long day, Draco."

As they were about to leave, Draco looked back, catching sight of a pretty (y/h/c) girl carrying a single case, leaving the station alone.

It was the 24th of December, just before the Malfoy Christmas eve party was due to start, and Draco was in his room fixing his bow tie and combing his hair. There was no doubt in his mind that tonight would be boring, he’d much rather spend the evening in his room, reading a book before bed. Unfortunately, he’d be drinking fancy flutes of bitter champagne and being forced into boring conversations with even more boring adults, or being made to dance with snotty pureblood girls that he probably already knew (and didn’t like at all).

"Draco, hurry up will you? Our guests will be here soon." His Mother called from downstairs. 

Taking one last look in the mirror, he took a breath and made his way out. He found his parents by the door, looking elegant as always in their expensive outfits and shining jewels. They always dressed in their finest clothes for these occasions, and never wore the same things twice; this party wasn't a celebration, Draco knew, it was simply an excuse for people to present their wealth and class, and try to show how much better they were than everyone else there. So, Draco was wearing his best black dress-robes, with his expensive polished black shoes, and his new diamond cuff-links.

As the guests started to show and music had started to play, a few forced dances later Draco stood with Blaise off to the side, occasionally sipping champagne as their parents talked. "So… this is… nice--"

"It's bloody boring, Blaise, don't even try."

"Well I'm just saying, it could be worse, right?" He half-defended, setting down the flute and putting his hands in his pockets. "You know, it'd be really bad if--"

"Dracey!" A shrieking voice interrupted them, their eyes widening in horror.

"Damnit, Blaise! You summoned her!" Draco scolded as he prepared himself for his worst nightmare. Turning around, he was blinded by a sparkly hot-pink dress (and there was really nothing hot about it). "Parkinson," he greeted through clenched teeth, with a tight-lipped smile.

The girl beamed at him as she stepped closer - because personal space isn't a thing. "You look so handsome tonight, Dracey," she complemented as she put a hand on his arm. 

"Thanks," he replied, subtly shrugging her arm off and sending a panicked glare to Blaise as he slowly shuffled away. 

Pansy started to twirl a pink nail in her hair and gave an almost-flirty smile. "What do you think of my dress? Don't you think it looks lovely?" She asked as she grabbed the puffy, knee-length, sequin covered skirt.

 "Yeah… er sorry but I have to go… look for… my… er… Mother's earrings. She lost one earlier so… I should grab her a new pair. Bye." He ran off into the crowd, putting as much distance between them as possible.

 "Wait! Dracey-Poo! Come back--"

He made his way to the garden patio, reminding himself to get back at Blaise when he finds him. It was dark by now, and cold. His breath fogged in the air and snow had settled over the grass, the steps had been enchanted to keep dry and so he sat down to the side, in the shadows where (hopefully) no one would see him. 

The sounds of the party could still be heard, but it was thankfully much quieter. As Draco sat there, his mind started to wander. 'How could this party possibly get any worse?' He thought, 'Maybe if (Y/L/N) came along it'd be worse? Well, probably not. She'd be far more entertaining.' He huffed at the thought; he shouldn't even think about wanting her here.Glancing through the glass doors to the party, the blond caught sight of the horrific pink dress running by. '(Y/L/N) would say something funny about that; she'd probably say she looked like a bedazzled flamingo pulled from a carnival or something.' He laughed at the thought, appreciating her sense of humour - then tried to shake off any more thoughts of her. Which wasn't working very well.

He saw a man walking passed, he was short and plump and had a ridiculous twirly moustache, in one hand was a polished cane and in the other was an almost empty glass of wine. ‘(Y/N) would say he looked like an evil Mr. Monopoly.’ He recalled her bringing the game one year and, though he made fun of it, thought it seemed like a fun way to spend free time. The more he thought of the insults that she would throw if she were here, the more ridiculous the whole even seemed to Draco. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have her there; wearing a beautiful long dress in her favourite colour, her hair pulled into a beautiful style, and smiling her beautiful smile. Again, the boy ignored his drifting mind; (Y/N) would never go to an event like this, a meaningless boring party to show off wealth and arrogance and pride. She'd much rather spend quality time with friends - as Draco would rather be doing now. He sighed at the notion; 'Besides,' he thought, 'she's probably having more fun than I am right now anyway.' 

 Unfortunately, though, she wasn't. 

Tags:

@salmonoctopus

@kaibie

[codenamed-queenie]

ohhhh i just blew my own mind. consider this: six of crows batfam au. not sure how it'd work but they're fully qualified and the banter would be insane.

You just blew my mind too, anon! 😲

This is a really great idea, and I think we need to get fic writers and artists on this ASAP! I swear not all my headcanons are gonna be this long, but here’s just my take on what this would look like:

Barbara Gordon: She and her father traveled to Gotham to make their fortune after Barbara’s mother passed away, and the family farm went under. A mob boss calling himself the Joker spotted a pair of easy marks and moved in. Barbara’s father was killed, and Barbara herself took a bullet to the leg. She walks with a permanent limp now, and relies on a weighted cane topped with a pair of bat wings.

Vowing revenge on the Joker, Barbara joined a Gotham City gang called the Signals (Bat signal? Eh? Eh? Yeah, I feel like I should come up with a better name…)  and quickly rose through the ranks. She always keeps her face hidden behind a masquerade mask, just in case Joker or any of his people might recognize her (he’d know her face, but not her name), and the act itself becomes a local legend. People can’t decide why she hides her face, and it only adds to her mystique. Especially once she starts going by the moniker ‘Oracle’. As in, ‘All-seeing’. Once she was powerful enough amongst Gotham’s criminal community, she formed her own inner circle within the Signals starting with a sharpshooting street kid she recruited and a Suli acrobat she rescued from a brothel.

Jason Todd: A stray kid from the streets of Gotham. He knows his way around a gun, and has a mind almost as sharp as his wit. After falling into heavy debt with Joker’s gang, he resorted to thievery, and even tried to steal Barbara’s cane to earn the money he needed. He almost got away with it too, but Barbara caught him in the act, and offered him a job. Work for her, and the Signals would have his back. Turn down the generous offer, and she’d kill him. Jason, surprisingly, agreed.

Dick Grayson: Grew up in a family of Suli acrobats, performing all over the world. One day, he and his little sister Cassandra were kidnapped from their family’s tent, and sold into slavery in Gotham, far away from their home. Dick went to a brothel, and Cassandra was sold elsewhere. One day, he ran into Barbara on one of her trips to collect protection money from the brothel’s owner, Tony Zucco, and impressed her with his stealth and ability to read people. (Much like Inej’s backstory in SOC) Barbara bought Dick from Zucco, and recruited him into the Signals, giving him the choice to join or walk away freely (deciding that the man had suffered enough.) Dick decided to join up, on the condition that Barbara help him find his little sister. Barbara agreed, and took him on as her right hand man and personal spy. On the streets, he’s known as the Nightwing, a name that earns almost as much fear and respect as ‘Barbara Gordon–the All-seeing Oracle’. Dick has since fallen head-over-heels for her, but Barbara’s only loves are money and revenge. (Or, at least, that’s what she tells herself…)

The trio received a tip on a job from Councilman Dent. A dangerous endeavor involving a highly-addictive drug that can supposedly grant humans ‘meta powers’ like the Grisha, and rescuing the only man who knows how to make it from the clutches of the Al Ghul clan. The man’s name? Bruce Wayne. The score? Thirty Million Dollars. The stakes are high; no one has ever crossed the Al Ghuls and survived. But if they do nothing, the metagene drug will be released on the world–and worst of all, they won’t get paid.

But first, they need to put together a good crew. Barbara’s first choice is

Stephanie Brown: A bright and bubbly Grisha Heartrender (The SOC equivalent of a metahuman with the ability to manipulate the human body at a molecular level) with an enormous love for waffles. (I thought Steph and Nina were way to similar to overlook!) She works for the Signals as a healer and assassin, but relies on the gang for protection. Currently, she’s on the run from the Al Ghuls–vicious Grisha killers who believe that Grisha power needs to be controlled or else wiped off the face of the earth. She had a run-in with one of them, but managed to escape…landing squarely in the Signals’ cross-hairs. Barbara has been hiding her, and the two share a strained relationship. Stephanie only agrees to help on one condition: her friend/partner, Duke Thomas, gets safe passage away from Gotham.

Duke Thomas: Duke wasn’t sure how he ended up in this situation. One moment, he’s living a quiet, normal life, and the next thing he knows, the mob leader Joker is extorting his family for everything they own. After the mobster kills his parents, Duke is left adrift on the streets of Gotham, never a safe place to be when you’re a lone Grisha. He was found and picked up by Stephanie Brown, and together, they do odd jobs for the Signals in exchange for shelter from the other gangs. All he wants is to get out of Gotham, but he’s willing to see one more job through if it means finally escaping this cursed city.

With the two Grisha on board, Barbara, Dick and Jason have one more potential recruit to pick up:

Timothy Drake: As the Signals’ best demolitions expert and chemist, Tim makes a valuable asset. But as the estranged ward of Councilman Dent, he makes even more valuable collateral. After running away from his legal guardian, Tim tried to make it on his own in the streets and alleyways of Gotham. He lasted about a day and a half, before he was cornered by a pack of thugs working for the Joker. Lucky for him, Jason and Dick were both in the neighborhood, and managed to fend off the attackers. They took the younger boy under their wings (after voting on whether or not to take him for everything he owned. Dick voted ‘no’. Jason voted ‘maybe’.) Barbara recognized him immediately, and decided to keep him around. Only so she’d have something on Dent. Not because she developed a soft spot for the wide-eyed little society brat. No. Not at all…

The last member of the crew arrives a bit later, but he proves to be every bit as valuable:

Damian Al Ghul: The heir to the Al Ghul clan, Damian was cast out of the family for showing mercy to a Grisha he’d been hunting in Gotham. Thanks to his quick thinking, Stephanie was able to get away. But when she turned him over to the police, he was unceremoniously thrown in prison. His family stripped him of his assassin rank, and essentially disowned him. But no walls could hold the pint-sized Al Ghul for long, and he escaped with a bitter mission to take revenge on the blonde Grisha. However, he seriously underestimated the people backing her up, and was beaten quickly. Barbara recognized a valuable asset when she saw one–an ‘in’ with the Al Ghuls, if you will–and offered him a deal. Run this one job against his family, and he’d have his pardon and safe passage to anywhere his heart desired.

But unbeknownst to the Signals, they aren’t the only gang after Mr. Wayne and the valuable information he holds. The Black Sirens, the Rogues and the Owl Court are all gunning for the same prize. Plus one more mysterious player…

Just kidding. It’s:

Cassandra Cain-Grayson: Raised in a Suli acrobat troupe, she and her brother Dick were kidnapped and separated. Cassandra was sold to the notorious Al Ghul family, and forced to begin training as one of their assassins. She has been tasked with protecting Bruce Wayne and his secrets with her life. If she can manage to destroy the thieves who are out to steal him, the head of the family, Ra’s Al Ghul, will grant her her freedom. And at last she will be able to seek out her brother and reunite them with their parents…

Aaaand, there you have it! I totally agree with you, anon, that the banter would be absolutely golden. You’d have gems straight out of the book, like:

Barbara: “Stephanie, love, always hit where the mark isn’t looking.”

Tim: “Who’s mark?”

-

Duke: “You have no finesse! No technique!”

Jason: “Sure I do. I practice the art of ‘pull his shirt over his head and punch till you see blood’.”

-

Steph [smirking]: “I can hear the change in Barbara’s breathing whenever she looks at you.”

Dick: “You…you can?”

Steph: “Mm-hmm. It catches every time, like she’s never seen you before.”

-

Jason: “ Usually people don’t start hating each other until a week into the job, but you two have a head start.”

[Steph and Damian glare at each other]

-

Duke: “She’s going to get us all killed!”

Dick: “Nah. Statistically, she’ll only get some of us killed.”

-

Barbara: “Who’d deny a poor cripple her cane?”

Damian: “If the cripple is you, then any man with sense.”

-

Steph: “ If any of you survive, make sure I have an open casket. The world deserves a few more moments with this face.”

-

Jason: “If the Joker kills us all, I’m going to get Tim’s ghost to teach my ghost how to play the flute just so that I can annoy the hell out of your ghost.”

Barbara: “ I’ll just hire Damian’s ghost to kick your ghost’s ass.”

Damian: “ My ghost won’t associate with your ghost.”

Honestly, this was too fun. Maybe I should write a fic on this??? 🤔

Btw, if any of you haven’t read the book yet, definitely give it a try! You won’t regret it!