#like god simply everything would be solved in my life if i looked like my prefered self

[fancyfeathers]

zainiscompletelydone333 asked a question

omg but imagine william's potential darling to be like agatha christie? a mystery writer whose mysteries are almost impossible to solve. whether or not they are as smart as the masterminds or detectives in her books, her stories do come close to confusing even sherlock or william a bit. if you've read her "and then there were none" SPOILERS its about a judge killing people for being evil and that is so william coded. anyways i'm straying far what I mean is william could be a quiet fan, and as the lord of crime, even replicate some of her stories as part of his crimes. watching his darling's face pale at the unknown criminal doing such a thing.....ASDKSHD an when he finally does officially meet her, he wonders if she'l ever base a character off him. a hero, or perhaps a villain?

For some reason this isn’t showing up in my tumblr inbox but thank god for my email cause this is a gem! Thank you @zainiscompletelydone333 for this!

Okay I love Agatha Christie, an actual icon! Fun fact she actually faked her own disappearance in 1926 and the police couldn’t find her for over a week and she just took a vacation to London after her husband threatened to leave her and she said fuck it and decided to treat herself. Then also Arthur Conan Doyle the author of Sherlock Holmes was hired to find her.

Anyway I am getting so off track but I love this lady so much so here we go!!!

But yes William would absolutely adore a darling like her. Imagine him first finding her works for the first time, perhaps one of his brothers or Sebastian or Fred was reading her work and just out of curiosity he picks up one of her books and is just immediately enthralled. Whenever he is not busy he is reading or even rereading one of her books and even begins to be teased by others for his slight addiction to her works.

Then when he and Sherlock is on the train investigating the murder that is when he gets an idea from both this and one of her books.

Weeks later an aristocrat who had been acting as a loan shark was found dead on a train in his compartment, stabbed a dozen times, his door locked from the inside, just like a murder from one of her most famous book…

But what William did not know is that she was on that same train…

And of course she found the body…

As William was making his way back to his seat to join his brothers, he hears a blood curdling scream and he simply chalks it up to someone finding the body. Then the panicked woman is brought to her seat by the staff and she looks a mess, pale faced, tears rolling down her face, hyperventilating, all things someone should be after seeing a dead body.

She is being asked questions when she finally calms down enough and William’s ears prick up as he hears words he never thought he would hear…

“Oh god… this is my fault…”

He turns his head to the booth next to him and sees her in absolute terror as she speaks to the train conductor.

She is right next to him…

She is terrified, horrified even…

And she is beautiful.

After everything from that incident had settled and she is off at home, trying to work on her next work for the life of her but being horrified by what she just witnessed…

Then more deaths come to surface all with the same pattern…

They are based on her books…

The author is absolutely horrified, she is loosing sleep, not eating as she should, and has rarely left her house in weeks…

Then she gets a knock on her door from a certain detective who was hired to look into one of the deaths, Sherlock Holmes. While he may like her books, he has noticed the pattern like she has and has one request for her…

“I want to help you to solve these cases. Who better to solve murders based on books better than the author herself?”

At first she refuses and dismisses him, but then when she is laying in bed that night she realizes he was right.

Her drawing room becomes a mess of her old notes that she had tucked away from when she wrote her book, copies of her her books with dozens bookmarks in them, newspaper clippings all around, and evidence she had Sherlock get access to with his connections that she doesn’t have.

After days of pure investigation and nights of no sleep she finally was able to figure out where the next murder will be, just by what books are left…

But that’s the thing…

There is not a single work of hers left that this murderer has not take inspiration from…

The only thing left is the author, and she can only assume that she is the next target. So without telling Sherlock, she packs up her bags and fakes her own disappearance, to fool both the police and the murderer.

She spends so much time in the shadows, watching and waiting to see who looks into her disappearance, seeing how people react to it, but nothing, not a thing…

It frustrates her even further…

Then she finally decides to return home, feeling like a failure. Her house if just how she left it, even the papers in the drawing room that look like the work of a madman that she will have to clean up after her failure so she can go back to what she is good at, fictional murders not really ones…

No she can’t do that, that would only give the murderer ideas…

So she quits.

No one hears from her for months as she nods herself taking up a librarian position at a local library, at least she is doing something with her literature. She says goodbye to Mr. Holmes and tucks away all her old books and works in progress that will never be finished on the shelves to collect dust for the rest of her life.

At her time working there she gets a frequent visitor at the library, a Mr. William James Moriarty. He had a fascination with murder mystery novels and the two form a quick friendship over their shared love of them. Everything feels like a new start, a clean slate but then he had to ask…

“Will you ever write again?”

That question has her heart hurt because she adores writing, but to sacrifice lives just for what she enjoys, she would never. She shuts down his question quickly and excuses herself, but then avoids the scarlet eyed man as to not be asked that question again.

But as she is laying in bed one night…

She hears the sound of footsteps in her study downstairs…

She feels her heart stop…

She closes her eyes and prays whoever is there will just go away, but they do not. So she musters whatever courage she has left and slips out of bed to see who is there in her study that has been collecting dust for almost a year…

And she approaches the closed door she realizes whoever is behind them must be the person behind the murders that gave plagued her and-

“William?”

The pangs of shock she feels in her chest when she sees the face of William Jane Moriarty looking through her unfinished works that she shelved away what felt like years ago. She must have looked like a deer in headlights as the Lord of Crime looking up at her with a smile, his red eyes staring into her soul…

She is terrified, horrified even…

And she is beautiful.

“Your unfinished work, will it have an ending? Or perhaps will we have to write one ourselves? What do you think, darling?”

The weeks go by and the next time the author is seen in public again she has an engagement ring on her finger and the announcement is being made about their upcoming wedding. The talk of the aristocracy says that she finally has a husband who is willing to deal with her crazied ideas that ended up killing so many people, not knowing that she is on the arm of the man who killed them…

Just for her.

(I could kinda imagine it ending up as a situation like the book Misery by Stephen King where he has her finish her work even if she doesn’t want to, but what differs is that while he doesn’t necessarily keep her locked up physically he does mentally. Sure go run off, he isn’t going to stop his darling, but just watch the bodies stack up pin ways she imagined, he is using her own mind against her which is the most terrifying of prisons. Then soon fear turns into dependency, she becomes terrified of him leaving her because now she has no where else to go but him so he has no need to hide her away when she clings to his arm like a terrified and wounded animal.)

[iluvapplesxh]

⧽⧽Visiting Hours⧼⧼

❀ pair: billie eilish x fem!reader

✰ summary: Without you, nothing felt like it should have. Your absence a pain Billie would never be able to bear completely ever. But she knows you'll wait for her where you are, and you'll meet again.

✯ warnings: mentions of death, angst, obviously no happy-end, !ENGLSH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE!

✒ a/n: uh, so definitely don't like how this turned out, but I'm just happy I had enough mentality and energy to write this and I'm sorry if it's not how you all imagined it but at the moment this is the best I can do. I love you all! <3 also listening to the song makes it better!

Billie’s sight blurred, the tears clouding it. They burned awfully, stinging her eyes as she tried her best to keep them from falling while she felt her throat close up, her breath stuck in her chest. Her hand was trembling in front of her, between her fingers was a piece of paper, imprinted with a photo of you. You had been smiling widely at the camera, holding up baby Shark in your hands excitedly as Billie had taken the picture.

Oh, how she wished she could just go back in time, to tell you she loves you. Even if she can’t change what happened she just wants to hear your voice saying ‘I love you, too’ again. Just one last time.

Billie’s chest felt strangely tight and a sob escaped her throat, causing her to drop the piece of paper onto the cushion of her sofa. The sofa which you had cuddled her on for hours, whether it had been the two of you watching a movie, a TV show, or just simply talking mindlessly for hours on without a care in the word. 

At the thought, tears slipped from her eyes and Billie took a big shaky breath in.

She didn’t pay any mind to her phone, ringing next to her as she looked down, shakily picking up the picture again, her other hand wiping furiously at her eyes. She sat up straighter and dropped the paper onto her lap, leaning her head back as her hands covered her face.

All she wanted was you, your arms around her comforting her, rubbing her back soothingly as she cried, telling her that it’s okay, everything’ll be okay and you’re here.

But you’re not.

She’s alone.

Alone in the now empty house the two of you shared so many memories in, date nights spent in the living room, laughing about anything and everything. Sweet, calm evenings and mornings spent in the kitchen, wrapped in each other’s arms as you messed around while making food, freely fooling around like lovers do in those movies.

Well, only those lovers have a happy ending. They say their vows at the end of the movie and promise forever trust and happiness. Not you and Billie. No, she could never love anyone else like she loves you. 

Everything was a mess in her life. Her friends and family worried sick about her. She hasn’t left the house in days and she couldn’t bear Shark whining and looking at her with a tilted head, sometimes searching the house for you and all Billie could do was watch with her chest and throat tight. 

Everything was falling apart and she didn’t know what to do. How to do anything. How to continue her life. It’s like the moment you were gone, her world stopped spinning. And she needed it to start again but she didn’t know how.

You would.

You always knew how to solve all her problems with simple words and actions.

Her fans were not much different. Worried and sad. And she hadn’t dared look at the media, headlines after headlines haunting her dreams and days. 

She didn’t want this. She just wants you. To talk. To tell you her every problem that has been piling on top of one another ever since you’ve been gone. And you’d listen, hold her hand and stroke her knuckles gently, murmuring reassuring words when she finished talking. Telling her you’d go through it all together. Because you always lived by the fact that love solves even the things that feel like the end of the world. God, she’s always loved the way your mind worked.

But where was that love now? When she needed it so desperately, where the hell was it?

Nothing feels right anymore, the house was too quiet and her head was so loud.

Her hands fell from her face, her red, teary eyes opening. Her breathing was ragged, shaky and unstable, unsteady. Her mind raced with thoughts but when she looked at that picture again, her mind went silent, but more tears slid down her rosy cheeks.

It felt pointless. Crying wasn’t gonna bring you back. Looking through millions of your pictures won’t either. Nothing will.

She pushed the paper down from her lap swiftly, sniffling as her other hand pressed the button on the side of her phone and the screen lit up, the notifications full of missed calls and unread texts. But she couldn’t care less about them. None of them were from you, so what was the point?

She swallowed harshly around the thick lump in her throat, head lifting at the sound of a quick bark. Her red and puffy eyes fell onto the gray Pitbull, and her breath hitched once more as her gaze dropped to the floor in front of him. A piece of clothing would have been the simple explanation to everyone else, but not her. Not when she’d seen that one so many times before. Your shirt.

“Shark” Billie wiped her cheeks and held out a hand. “Where did you find that, bud?” Her voice was hoarse and strained, another sob threatening to crawl up her throat once more.

The dog swiftly took the clothing into his mouth again, carrying it over to his owner with big eyes, only letting go when Billie’s hand made contact with the fabric and her fingers gripped it tightly, pulling it to her chest. Shark whined softly, jumping up onto the couch in a swift movement, nudging Billie’s arm with his nose in worry at her state.

A wet chuckle left Billie and her free hand, shakily resting on his gray furry head. It seemed as though he wasn’t able to move on either. Like he couldn’t believe you were gone.

“I know, bud. I miss her too” She whispered softly, hearing Shark whine quietly again, leaning forward and resting his upper body onto Billie’s thighs. She took a deep breath and looked down at the shirt in her hand. She slowly brought it up to her face, inhaling swiftly and a sob escaped her again as the faint scent of you filled her senses completely as if for the first time ever.

It took her a while, laid on the sofa motionlessly for hours with her thoughts racing as she just wished to see you one more time. Just one, a proper goodbye. But she didn’t want it to be a goodbye, no, not a goodbye. Just a ‘Till we meet again’. 

But she knew if she even had one chance she wouldn’t think about leaving again. She needed you to survive, to live, to breathe but she had to accept the fact that that’s not possible and that’s maybe for the best.

And she’ll have to try to live her life without you, and just when she’s alone, she’ll think about you, maybe let a tear or two fall because there was no way she could ever think about you again and nod cry. But she knew you’d want her to live her life to the fullest. To continue making music and keep her friends and family close. And for you, she’ll do just that, but never will she ever again in her life love anyone the way she loves you. Not one person could compare to you, the love you gave her. And which you took away from her along with her heart.  So far away, but maybe one day she’ll reach you and you’ll be waiting for her. She’ll hug you tightly and tell you everything that’s happened since, how much she’s missed you and how much she loves you.

And God knows everyone she’ll meet until then will know about you, about who you were and what you meant to her. To the world. And she’ll never get bored of telling every story the two of you shared. 

So what if she’ll never move on completely?

No one would ever want to leave the best thing in their life behind, even if it’s already gone. It’ll never be so completely. She’ll never be alone completely, you’ll be there, watching over her until you meet again.

✒ a/n: this is really short and little rushed, so sorry. I hate it but I kind of still don't know how to write based on songs so :/

REQUESTS OPEN!! ♡

[adverbally]

Slow, So Slow, I Fell to the Ground on My Knees

Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “Terrible Things - Mayday Parade” | wc: 1,002 | rated: T | cw: dustin in peril, hospital | tags: canon divergent, what if Dustin came back to help Eddie buy time, no I couldn’t bring myself to actually kill Dustin, meditation on guilt and love and responsibility, not as sophisticated as that sounds, pre-steddie, hopeful ending

———

Eddie probably doesn’t have any right to be here.

After all, it’s his fault Dustin was so determined to get back to the Upside Down. If Eddie had just followed him up the rope instead of cutting it, they both would have been safe. Instead, he played right into Dustin’s need to know what’s going on, created a puzzle that Dustin just had to solve.

Eddie should’ve known that Dustin would find a way, but it didn’t occur to him. All he thought of was his own pride, his own vow to stop running. It wasn’t until he heard Dustin shouting his name, running into the swarm of demobats alongside him, that the horrible reality of the situation set in. Not only would Eddie die, but he would take Dustin– sweet, stubborn, loyal Dustin– down with him.

By some miracle, Steve, Nancy, and Robin had shown up just in time to save them both. They had dragged them back to their own world, done what little first aid they could manage, and got them help. But the damage was done.

Eddie had held Dustin, told him everything would be okay even as blood oozed out of his mouth. Even as Dustin grew weaker, and his voice got softer, he apologized to Eddie with tears in his eyes. It still makes Eddie sick to remember how sincere he had sounded, saying he wished Eddie had never been dragged into this and he was sorry to leave him like this.

Standing at the foot of Dustin’s hospital bed, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat on the monitor, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, Eddie still can’t shake the guilt. He was an adult, it was his job to watch out for Dustin and keep him out of danger.

As with everything else in his life, Eddie had failed miserably.

“It wasn’t your fault, you know.”

The voice is soft, coming from a dark corner of the room, but Eddie still startles. “Jesus!” he gasps, clutching his chest.

“Sorry, I wasn’t sure whether I should interrupt.” Is that…? Yep, Steve Harrington himself rises up from the stiff-backed chair, still moving a little gingerly, and moves into the pool of light that gently illuminates Dustin’s bed.

Eddie looks down at the scuffed, shiny linoleum. “I, um, didn’t expect anybody to be here.” It’s late, technically past visiting hours, but Mrs. Henderson’s job with the hospital has allowed them some flexibility as long as they keep it quiet.

“His mom is on the night shift. I didn’t want him to be alone.” He explains it so simply, like it goes without saying that Steve would be the one to step in. Maybe it does. Whether it’s because it’s Henderson or because Steve would do the same for any of them, Eddie can’t say, but he hopes Steve would have stayed with him too if he had been the one in the bed.

“You really care about him a lot, huh?”

Steve doesn’t respond for a long time. When Eddie glances up, he looks… not sad, exactly, but serious. “Yeah, I do,” he eventually says, hushed in the quiet of the room.

Eddie already knows, of course. Even before all of this Vecna bullshit, Dustin’s ravings had included a lot of references to the things Steve did for him. Not just shit like dropping him off at the arcade. Helping him get ready for the Snow Ball. Giving him advice about his relationship with Suzy. Bringing him soup and crackers and Sprite when he was sick and his mom was stuck at work. Steve had already started teaching him how to drive, for God’s sake.

He’s seen it for himself, too. He can never forget the moment when Steve realized that Dustin had been hurt so badly. How he’d taken one look at Dustin’s pale, blank face and collapsed to his knees, his eyes wide with horror, and let out the most spine-chilling noise Eddie has ever heard. It was the sound of some animal kind of grief, something so deep that Steve wasn’t even conscious of it. Eddie still hears it in his nightmares.

Yeah, it’s obvious that Steve cares about Dustin. Loves him, even. Like a little brother, almost like a son.

Eddie wishes he could love someone like that. Standing in that field, telling him, “Never change, Dustin Henderson,” it felt like he already did. As if he had any idea what love meant outside of family and excuses and obligations. As if he even knew Dustin at all. What Eddie does know is that he would have sacrificed himself in a heartbeat if it would protect Dustin. He hopes Dustin will wake up soon so he can tell him that.

And here comes the guilt again, curdling in his stomach. Eddie braces his hands against the footboard of the hospital bed, leaning over to look down at the knit pattern of the blanket covering Dustin’s feet. “I’m sorry I didn’t keep him safe,” he says, to Steve, to Dustin, to anyone who might be listening.

“Don’t do that to yourself,” Steve sighs. “Nobody blames you. Dustin definitely won’t.”

“I do,” Eddie scoffs.

“Then you’re wrong.” Steve steps closer and rests a hand over Eddie’s on the bed railing. “Trust me, I’ve been there. You did your best in a really shitty situation.” When Eddie looks up at him through blurry eyes, Steve’s expression is soft. “I know it’s hard to believe it at first, so I’ll keep reminding you until it sticks.”

Eddie clenches his jaw and nods. He doesn’t trust his voice enough to speak. Instead, he twists his hand underneath Steve’s, putting them palm to palm and threading their fingers together.

They stay there like that until Eddie can’t stand for much longer, and then Steve drags him over to the pair of chairs in the corner.

They’re still holding hands when they drift off, shoulders and heads slumped together as they keep their vigil.

[nagitoshopejar]

A show of the ages

Summary: Velvettes show has gone wrong and her adopted dad decided to help calm her down

THIS IS A PLATONIC PAIRING

“Fuck off Vox!” The youngest of the vees was throwing her usual tantrum when one of her shows wasn't going to plan, or at least the preparations before it. There was a problem. Velvette’s models were not to be seen. “Vox go find them!” 

“Velvette dear, you know what chasing bitches does for our reputation.” The TV inquired, “we have a reputation to keep. Find someone else. There's more demons here my love.” 

Velve, looking as if she was about to tear up, who knows if she was gonna cry at all, it wasn't typical of her to be teary eyed but through all the stress of the show it wouldn't be too crazy. She always manages to save her show whether that means making someone fix it or doing it herself. Right now it seems like she doesn't have a way for the show to go on. Her normally clean dressing room had clothes and props scattered about the floor in Pink haired demons onslaught and fit of rage.

“Listen my dear, I’m sure we can find someone. Perhaps we should tell your fans the truth. We could put out a contest to see who would be a new model, our ratings may go up.”

“Shut up Vox! Is everything about ratings and stuff to you?” The youngest, face turning red just as much as her hair started sputtering insults, “Help me for real or I’ll unplug your moth attracting life support you old ass ornery bitch!” Velvette while her tone was getting louder had Vox trying to calm her down.

“Velvette, calm down please we will find a way.” Vox was unsettlingly calm with his usual trademark grin plastered anywhere there was marketing.

“Vox I swear to god you are no help to you and your big dumb stupid tv head like you're supposed to be modern tech and you're old but no smarts and you're not wise. It's any wonder why anyone would even trust in our brands with a face not matching a personality or smarts like yours!” Velvette was going on about this forever even closing her eyes tight to make it seem as if she was serious.

“The time spent yelling and insulting me could be spent solving this little conundrum of yours, Velvy.” Velvette hated it when he called her by that name. Yea they had the father daughter bond of a blood family but that doesn't mean he could just call her by that name whenever he wants to.

“Don't call me that you fuckwad.” she muttered loudly enough for Vox to hear while giving him a death glare of the century. “If you're not going to help then you need to leave.”

“But Velve my dear I am. I heard your loud noises and thrashing and now… your mess on the floor. I am here to help you so just work with me here.” Velve huffed still eyes locked on the older of the two not moving an inch from her spot.

“Vox, leave. Now. NOW.” 

“Now, is that any way to speak to your dad, young lady?” Vox cocked an eyebrow with an ear to ear grin.

This set Velve off on a tangent, “you, of all people are not my dad. You couldnt even care for a fucking cat, a goldfish if you wanted to, what makes you think you take care of me? You’re old, ugly, not good for nothing piece of shit just some side piece of A-” in her incessant rambling you could see Vox with a sinister, almost mischief grin, he had a plan and was gonna put it to good use. Velve in her onslaught of insults stops mid sentence and simply drops to the ground in giggles.

“Vohohoox what are yohoho doingggg?” she whines trying to suppress her giggles like a river to a beaver dam.

“You are not behaving. Clearly I can't ground you but I can tickle you.” He walked up nice and close to her face to just mention what was happening, “you don't know this but I have little electric bolts that I can use to humble someone with mere giggly antics. You could call it a tickle ray, and we could sell it!” Vox was not excited about his new VoxTech idea but first he had to deal with the little lady who thinks she can disrespect her dad. “Shall I crank it up a notch?” 

“VohoHOHOX” of course she couldn't be belittled to begging so she just yelled at the modern man not that she did want it stop “NOHOHOHOHO OHO MY GOHOHOD!” her now ball of giggles was simply melted into a puddle of giggles as Vox kneeled down beside her.

“Maybe this will make you think twice before insulting me.. Velvy.” he snickered, dragging his pointy claw down from the forearm to the hollows to spider along Velves pit.

“NOHOHOT THEHERE PLEASE IM BEHEHGGING YOUHUHU.” 

“Awww is the little Velvy ticklish? Just a wittle sensitive? But y'know, if you don't want here I could always move to another spot.” Vox slowly trailed his finger down to her hips with her trying to squirm away from his tickly claw. Note that he's working with one hand, the rest is his tickle ray. Velve was clawing, grabbing at his hand but wasn't pushing it away.

“SHUHUHUT UHUHUP- AGH!” The little lady was surprised by the sudden squeeze on her most ticklish area. “NOHOHOT THEHEHEHERE EITHERRR AHAHAHAH VOOHOHOHOHO PLEEHE!” She couldn't create full sentences quite at the moment as the TV head started using both his hands to squeeze her hips.

“You know, I haven't heard you ask me to stop or made any real effort to stop me.”

Velve was blushing like a maniac, her face red and hot from the embarrassment and laughing so much. “SHUHUT UP OHOLD MAHAN!” She was thrashing all over knowing full well she did enjoy it.

“But if you want me to stop all you have to do is apologise for insulting me.”

Through her laughter she spit out sentences mangled with words that sounded like she would never apologise even if part of it was her liking this attention and bond with her adopted dad you would never catch THE Velvette apologising. “VOHO- NOHOH- NEVEHRHRR PLEEAHAHHAHA.”

“Well then, I guess I have to keep going.” The taller figure liked the bonding like this as well. They both needed a let loose kind of activity to bond to and this was just it. Vox was enjoying tickling her just as much as Velvette was enjoying receiving it. Her smile was a genuine one, not one of forced due to the scene going on in front of them.

Eventually in the screaming laughter of the overlords Vox relented when it seemed as if she had enough and calmed down.

The TV smiling down at her, offered her a hand to help her up. Velvette, who was all giggly still from the ghost tickles, took the offer trying to stand. “By the way, the electricity might last a few extra minutes.” Vox mentioned with one last smirk on his face. “Now then my dear, why don't I be the model. I will even let you put make-up on me and dress me in pretty clothes if it makes you happy.” 

Velve with an honest and gently happy look for the first time, then had a look of astonishment, “really? Why didn't you mention that you old rag before doing that?” 

And with a soft demeanour Vox had replied looking at the littler one with much content, “you look like you could've used it you were too tense. You need to remember our reputation. I can't have you running around making us look like we lost control.” 

That night Vox put on his best performance in a dress to make his daughter a happy one.

[immediatebreakfast]

I love how Renfield is the oldest (59) and Mina is very likely the living youngest, and yet they bond so well. (It reminds me how well Mina befriended the 99 year old Mr Swales that he sought her company and felt care for her.) It probably contributed that Jack may have experience with interacting with "madmen" and studying, Mina had lived with and loved a "madman".

It's truly incredible how a simple conversation between an old man in physical cell, and a young woman in a mental cell put such a dent in the Count's plans that he had to flee to Transylvania once it was clear that nothing would stop the crew.

Even if the repercutions were huge in the narrative, in between the horror and the action it was just a visit (probably the first visit that Renfield had in a long time) to talk.

Reading again the entry I noticed how hostile Renfield is towards Mina at first,

"You're not the girl the doctor wanted to marry, are you? You can't be, you know, for she's dead." - R.M. Renfield, september 30.

and even with everything one can say about sexism, and the building infantilization of Mina, let's remember that this is the first time Renfield meets someone that is specifically associated with Jack. Renfield's remarked abuser in both authority, and personhood in general. Also by probably being informed by Dracula himself that both Mina and Jonathan are the key players in this continuous attacks against his plans in England, on top of just almost correctly assuming that Mina must share the same opinion towards the mentally ill that society has.

Three strikes against Mina that she switfly defeats by treating Renfield like the person he is, and talking to him in a normal manner. After taking care of her beloved Jonathan, and being at Lucy's side most of her life Mina is aware of how the Other is viewed. Maybe as she saw Renfield, Mina thought of a worse reality where the man on the bed was her Jonathan in Budapest, maybe she saw how Seward reacted to Renfield's words, and realized what was actually layed out in the room. Or maybe Mina just saw an old man in need of an ear, and she just listened.

This is the first time that Renfield puts a face on a victim of the Count's games, he puts a voice on the young victim whose life is going to violently end in what he thought was supposed to be eternal bliss. Lucy is a distant dream for Renfield, the revenge against these people who dared to put up a fight against this old ancient evil that goes beyond all of their years combined.

Renfield never knew Lucy, but he knows Mina now.

Renfield sees the young Mina Harker, entering life with her equal young husband in hand, and trying to solve the murder of what he knows now was her best friend, and he reflects. He reflects on everything he has done, on what has passed, and what he can do tomorrow.

Mr. Renfield asked if he might see me. Poor man, he was very gentle, and when I came away he kissed my hand and bade God bless me. Some way it affected me much; I am crying when I think of him. This is a new weakness, of which I must be careful. Jonathan would be miserable if he knew I had been crying. - Mina Harker, october 2.

And the man is devastated to see how he is helping orchestrate the murder of another young lady to please the Count. He becomes desperate to leave (a request that is denied by both Seward, and Van Helsing), so the Count can't have access to the inside of the asylum. It doesn't matter if he looks like a coward by the time's literary standards because if the only way to at least save that young lady is by acting like one? Then Renfield might as well do it, he has nothing to lose sans his life.

I think that the key difference between Mina, and Jack when it comes to Renfield is empathy, and the ability to simply treat the other person with the same humanity you should be treated.

Jack may have studied, and climbed until he got to be the head of an asylum, but his own biases, mental problems, and ableism blurred the lines between patient and doctor so hard that he made Renfield's life a boring hell. From when their dynamic was introduced, to Renfield's death, the narrative dictated how Seward was putting both into a deep spiral in which, not even with Renfield's manipulations, none of them were going to come out in victory.

In contrast, Mina has cared for Jonathan without any restrain, and has lived in service of what the situation demands of her at all times. She knows, as a young victorian lady, how to balance herself without trying to compete, or win the other person in the room with her. Mina only needed to genuinely talk to Renfield to break his heart because she gave him the respect, and honestly she expects for herself when talking.

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Mommy’s Little Scientist~ Peggy Carter xFem Reader

Peggy fic of reader working with stark and meeting peg in like Cali or something Scientist through Stark, Cali?

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, fingering, implied sex, mommy kink, praise kink, implied degradation kink, implied chocking kink 😏, age gap (all legal), Peggy Carter being a goddess

Idk exact length; long but not massive

Enjoy (;

You had started working with Howard Stark because he was said to be the smartest man of the century, and you needed the completion as no one could keep up with your level of thinking. However, you very quickly found out that while Howard was a genius, he was also a horny dumbass. He just couldn’t help himself.

And so when he first met you, a female scientist, all he could talk about was bedding you. And it was exhausting. Eventually you caved and told Howard that you were a lesbian (at first scared because of how ostracized you could be for that) but it surprisingly worked. Although now you had to deal with scissoring jokes on the regular, but hey, it was better than before.

You also quickly realized how harmless Howard was, at least his intentions. So, you two worked quite well together. Aside from him offering you second rounds on his daily flow of women, everything ran quite well.

You were currently single because dating women as a woman was a no go in society but also in the scientific community, you could lose all the hard earned credit which you had accumulated. But that didn’t stop Howard. He was constantly going on about how “You just need to get laid” and “C’mon I know some girls who are into that kinda stuf”, but you simply declined. Every time.

To be honest, watching Howard’s very active sex life, made you a bit jealous. You found yourself more needy and desperate than usual (desperate enough to fuck yourself in his bathroom on multiple occasions, because you were so pent up).

It’s possible that Howard picked up on that, because even though you liked women, Howard was quite in tune with women. This led to Howard trying to set you up with even more women, for gods sake.

One particular morning as you were re-reading your book on quantum mechanics, Howard came in to the lab with his face lit up: “I’ve done it! I’ve found you the perfect woman, my les-bean!” And yes, that was his nickname for you… You looked up at him in disbelief “Oh really?”. “Yep!” He continued “Your gonna love her, she’s right up your alley!” You chuckled, “And what makes you say that?” And he just smirked, “You’ll see”. Now this left you intrigued… Who was this mystery woman who would be “right up my alley”?

And that’s when Agent Peggy Carter walked into the lab with Jarvis by her side. “Miss. Carter, Miss. L/N; Miss L/N, Miss. Carter” Jarvis stated. “Oh Jarvis, go grab some more viles from storage, will ya?” Howard butted in “We’re almost out”. Howard’s words slipped over your brain as your eyes met Peggys. She was gorgeous. But this was THE Agent Peggy Carter… She didn’t like women, did she?

“Right, I’ll leave you two to get to know each other” Howard mischievously exclaimed and then he just left the lab, closing the door on his way out. You heard a click… That bastard had locked the door! Peggy had noticed it as well and interjected before you got the chance “Howard! This is not funny, open the door at once!” She sternly yelled. “Nope!” Howard exclaimed “Not until you both work out your own sexual tensions! C’Mon, you both could use a good fucking for gods sake!”

You looked at Peggy in disbelief. She looked back, rolling her eyes at what you assumed was Howard. “What does that mean, Howard?!” She asked. There was no response. You huffed. Howard was kinda right though… But this was nooo way to solve your own sexual dilemma. Especially not with Captain Americas really hot bay… So you just said the first thing that came to mind, “I didn’t know you were into girls”. She chuckled and hummed, “After Steve, I found that no man could meet my standards, so I tried the other team”. She elegantly spoke, although you sensed some hesitation on the “Steve” topic. “I see”, was all you could manage.

In all fairness, Peggy was really fine. You could understand why any man or woman would want her. Everything from her hips, to her lips, speech, hair, and overall confidence screamed incredibly attractive. “What about you?” She interjected your tunneling thoughts, “How did YOU end up locked in Howard’s lab, and not in his his bed” she chuckled. “I work with him. I’m a biochemist. Sure, he tried to bed me many times, but once he found out I was a lesbian, he switched to trying to set me up with all the other potentially gay women he could find” you chuckled. Peggy chuckled back, “That’s Howard, all right”. You looked at her and she looked back. And you both just sat in silence for a while.

“So…” Peggy started, “if we’re stuck here for who knows how long, maybe we could just get to know each other?” You agreed as there was basically nothing better to do, as Captain Americas bay would NEVER fuck you… “Um sure” you replied “What do you want to know?”. She laughed God, was her laugh intoxicating… “I assumed you would have many questions for me, many usually do; but sure, let’s start with you. Hmm…” she took a second to think “How did you realize you were attracted to women?” You blushed a bit as you began to give an answer “Well, I never had a great relationship with my mother I suppose… And when I started looking to date, I never felt attracted to age appropriate men quite like women… y’know?”

Peggy stifled a snicker and just smirked in response. Shit. You had basically just confessed to having mommy issue in front of Peggy fucking Carter. Who was at least a good decade and a half older than you.

“What about you?” You quickly deflected, hoping to save yourself from any more blushing and kink confessions. “I basically summed it up earlier, after Steve, most men couldn’t cut it for me.” She continued, “Howard said we both had pent up sexual tension. I mean, I understand me, but Why did he say that about you?” Now you were ales most chocking on the oxygen in your throat from surprise. “Uh… I think he just doesn’t like the fact that I’m never seen with anyone else, while he’s with a new girl every hour or so.” You half way Lied your way through that one. It was embarrassing for you to mention not having had any sexual pleasure from another since your studies. It had been a while. That was the true answer. Peggy responded while you were in your thoughts, “For me, I think Howard just wants me to get laid. I haven’t had a good fucking besides my own hand in so long.” Damn was she straightforward… You wish you could just say that. “Yea, I guess that’s part of it for me as well” you managed to get out, feeling back for not being completely honest for some reason. “When was your last time?” Peggy inquired. And this one truly got you. You blushed hard. You choked on your own air. Your eyes widened. You answered with a strain “a long time… since my studies..” you reluctantly answered, yet you felt safe to get that off your chest. Peggy chuckled, “Mine was during the war. Not as long as you, but a few years is certainly long enough.” “It certainly it” you agreed with her, glancing at her luscious lips for a second. Shit. Was Howard right? Would this actually work?

“What if Howard was right?” You asked, not being able to keep the line from your thoughts and your words straight, which you immediately regretted. Peggy looked at you a bit surprised but also pleased, “If Howard was right? Then… I think we’d make a mess of his lab” she laughed teasingly. “Then why don’t we?” You hesitantly whispered, hoping to god she’d say yes. But she didn’t say anything. She simply came over to you, tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and whispered into your ear, “then… you’d listen to every word I say, and be a good girl for mommy.” She backed up to look you in the eyes, hers full of dark lust. “Yes” you breathlessly whimpered. “Yes Mommy…” you whimpered and almost moaned.

The next morning, Howard had this breakfast and made his way down to the lab, exited to see if his little experiment had worked out. He unlocked the door and couldn’t contain his laughter. The lab was absolutely wrecked. Equipment everywhere. And on the center lab table, Peggy had you spread out as she finger fucked you with one hand and had her other wrapped around your neck. “Fuck Howard, out!” You mewled trying to get words out, about to cum for the upteenth time. You were in such a sex fog, you hadn’t even heard him coming or unlocking the door. “Well would look at that!” Howard exclaimed. Peggy moved close to your ear and tauntingly purred, “Last one love, cum on my fingers in front of Howard. Show him and Mommy how much of a lesbian slut you truly are”. And then you came. In front of Howard. And you couldn’t even contain your moan. It was too overstimulating. “Fuuuck, Mommy” you screamed. “Shit”. Howard said. “Hell, maybe I should be a lesbian” he chuckled, as he left the room, leaving you two alone.

[tgmsunmontue]

Saga of Solitude 1/?

Nepo!Baby Bradley and his life at USNA. DADT fully in force. Hangster AU. (Begun prior to 'It's not who you know' - the non-angsty version).

This 3.5k chapter is written on the assumption that you've read the prologue, but you do you (it will still 100% make sense, but He Remembers does set the scene).

PROLOGUE (He remembers) HANGSTER FIRST MEETING (Lonely Nights) Updating irregularly. This is a SLOW BURN

2000 (Bradley is 17)

                His hands shake as he holds the envelope. It’s thick. He knows that that’s a good sign. He promised Ice he would wait for him before he opened it. He carries it around the house with him, room to room, nervous that he’s going to somehow lose it if he lets it out of his sight. Mav is meant to be getting back from his deployment this weekend, and the girls are also meant to be coming for the weekend, so it’ll be all his family in one place to celebrate or commiserate with him.

                God he hopes it’s celebrate.

                He really wants to celebrate.

                What if it’s not?

                Oh god he thinks he’s going to be sick.

                Yep.

                Yep, he’s sick, just making it to the bathroom before bringing up the remnants of his lunch and the afternoon snack he’d forced down.

                Oh god, he doesn’t know if he can wait until Ice gets home.

                He sips the glass of water slowly, lets his stomach settle, reminds himself that his life will be fine if it is in fact a rejection letter. He’s applied to other places, Ice and Mav both insisting on it. He’s an honor student, plays baseball, runs track and is a member of the swim team. All things Ice had suggested to him if wanted to strengthen his application and prepare himself physically for entering the Navy. He’ll be fine.

                He’ll be fine.

                He turns on the TV, a hopeful step to distract himself but keeps checking the time. When he hears a car he runs out to the drive and it’s Ice’s car, but there is someone in the passenger seat, in uniform and his heart jumps.

                Mav.

                Mav is home.

                “Dad!” Bradley yells, running and wrapping his arms around his father.

                “Bradley! Holy shit you’ve grown!”

                “Maverick, language…” Ice says, his sigh resigned like he’s just reprimanding him automatically and Bradley lets out a laugh. “Surprise. He got in early.”

                “I got my letter. It’s.. here,” Bradley says, shoving the letter at Ice, not wanting the pressure of opening it.

                He looks and Mav and Ice; they’ve both grown still, suddenly less happy as they look at the thick white envelope, Ice slapping it against his palm, expression serious.

                “Come on, let’s go inside.”

                They head inside, and he leans into Mav’s arm around him, barely reaching now, but he won’t say anything. Ice is grabbing a letter opener, holding it out to him along with the envelope and he shakes his head.

                “Can you open it please.”

                Ice doesn’t bother answering, simply slits it along the top, pulling out the folded wad of paper and flicking the top sheet out sharply, eyes scanning it.

                “You’re in.”

                He lets out the breath he’d been holding, entire body slumping with relief.

                “Like there was any doubt,” Mav mutters, hugging him again, but he can see the tick in his jaw, knows he’s upset or worried about something. He’d seen it a lot when Mav had been teaching him to drive before Ice had decided that maybe he should take over the lessons.

                “We should sit down… maybe have some tea.”

                “You’ve been spending too much time with that British-raised Admiral, thinking tea can solve everything…”

                “Well, Bradley’s eighteen, didn’t exactly want to offer him whiskey.”

                “That’s okay, I can offer it. You want a whiskey?”

                “Maverick!”

                Bradley laughs, his nerves settling a little at Mav’s sheer ridiculousness.

                “I’m joking! Stop looking at me like that.”

                Ice lets out a long breath and he wonders if maybe he should have a whiskey.

                “Okay, so there’s also something we need to tell you.”

                “If it’s about sex we can skip it…” Bradley blurts out, wondering if that’s what has got them looking so deadly serious. He’s not stupid, at least not anymore. He’s realized they’re more than just friends, even if Mav has never uttered the words. Ice hasn’t either but he’s seen them, when they think he’s not looking. Heard them when they think he’s not at home, which he’s never mentioning ever. They’re both looking at him in shock and he pulls a face. “What? I’ve had sex.”

                “Fuck. Please tell me you’re being safe,” Mav mutters, which Bradley thinks is hypocritical considering the shit Mav pulls, although of course he is. Ice and Sarah have that shit covered.

                “Yeah, of course. I’m not stupid.”

                “Good to know. Not what we were going to talk about, but, uh, still good to know,” Ice says, looking at the ceiling like it will somehow give him strength. Maybe he’s thinking of the sex talks he’s going to have to give Tamsin and Petra, although they’re only five and three, so at least he’s got years to prepare himself.

                “It’s about your mom.”

                Bradley sits back, going silent. His mom has been gone nearly eight years, he can’t even begin to imagine what they have to say about her now.

                “She didn’t want you to join the Navy. I’m pretty sure when she said Navy, she meant any branch of the DoD, but we won’t split hairs. It was something we argued about. A lot.”

                “She wanted us to make sure you never joined. You’re eighteen and we wouldn’t be able to stop you enlisting. However we wanted you to know what she wanted.”

                “What do you want?”

                “We want you to be happy.”

                “Safe.”

                “But it would be hypocritical of us to stand in your way if you really want to join the Navy when we’re both… in the Navy,” Ice explains.

                Mav hums you can sail the seven seas and Ice shoots him a glare and it makes him laugh, Mav giving him a wink.

                “Bradley, we’ll be proud of you regardless of what you do, as long as you’re proud of it as well.”

                “You don’t need to feel like you have to join just because your dad was, or just because we are…” Mav adds and Bradley nods.

                “So, if you decide to accept this… and you do still need to accept it, just because they’re offering you a place doesn’t mean you have to accept it. If you decide to accept it there are some things that you need to be aware of…”

                “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. So this is a sex talk…” He notes the look that Mav and Ice exchange and realizes then that they think he doesn’t know, that he hasn’t put it all together. “Uh, I know you guys are a couple by the way.”

                He doesn’t get the response he expects, although he doesn’t know what he was expecting exactly. Maverick is laughing, but Ice has gone pale, looks nervous and he reminds himself that he’s considering entering an institute that will deny him something as simple as acknowledging his chosen partner.

                “Told you he’d figure it out,” Mav says, and he’s standing, going over to the liquor cabinet and pouring two whiskies, placing one in front of Ice who takes a sip with a slightly trembling hand. Mav pull a face, and he can’t really parse what it means. They’re not happy, he gets that much.

                “Bradley, DADT means you can’t talk about… well. Us,” Ice starts.

                “Yeah. I figured that out. I know you guys aren’t out. You didn’t even tell me.”

                They both wince at that and he wonders what it is he said.

                “Well, you can mention us, but you can’t mention our positions.”

                “Maybe avoid the fact that we’re in the Navy all together,” Mav suggests.

                “It also means you need to be… careful. For yourself,” Ice adds, turning the glass under his fingers.

                “Yeah. I get it.”

                “Bradley… we’re saying this because we care. Because we’re worried. You’ve grown up in an age where it’s… more acceptable to be… gay. The Navy hasn’t exactly moved at the same rate.”

                “We both married women because we needed people to stop speculating. It’s far more acceptable to be a widow or a divorcee…”

                “Oh.” Of course. He knew Mav had married his mom to make the whole adoption thing easier, but Ice marrying Uncle Sarah. He’d maybe thought bisexual, not that they were trying to throw people off their scent.

                “Yeah… I think you’re starting to get the idea kid.”

                “I’m not a kid.”

                “You’ll always be my kid. Our kid.”

                Shit.

                They’re both looking at him, eyes sad, and he nods tightly, once.

                Stares at the floor so he doesn’t see them watching.

                He gets it.

                But.

                He still wants it.

                Wants it bad enough that he’ll ignore what his mom wanted.

                Wants it bad enough that he’ll hide away a part of himself.

                His stomach roils at the idea of being found out then, but he has to at least try. He wants to fly more than he wants to have a boyfriend. More than he wants sex. Sex hasn’t been that great anyway. His times flying have definitely been better and more memorable than the times he’s had sex.

                “I want to fly.”

                “Yeah. Okay. How about you take the weekend, read through everything. We can discuss timelines and Plebe Summer…”

                “And how to avoid answering questions about your family.”

                “I’ll just… not talk about you at all. If anyone asks I’ll say my dad was a naval aviator and he died in a training exercise and –”

                “That’ll probably make them stop asking you questions. Won’t exactly make you friends.”

                “I don’t want friends. I want to fly.”

                “You can have both.”

                “Not if you’re lying to them.”

                “It wouldn’t be lying.”

                “Half-truths and omission is still lying.”

                Bradley looks between them, and he knows they’re about to enter a pointless argument with no winner that they seem to do every time Mav returns from deployment. It’s a pattern he’s noticed, all their attention turned and focused on each other and oh… Right. He guesses he’s still got a bit to learn.

                “I’m going to take this to my room and read it. Let me know when dinner’s ready okay?”

                “We’ll order takeout, something to celebrate. What do you want?”

                “Pizza!” Bradley calls out, can already hear the scraping of chairs and he’s going to put his music on and blast it.

…             …             …

                “You okay? Ice?” Pete asks, crouching beside him and Ice looks up from his glass of whiskey.

                “How did he figure it out? We’ve been so careful…”

                “He lives with us. Not all of us together, but he knew I wasn’t interested in Carole like that… He knows I’m not straight. When he came out to me I told him it wasn’t easy being in the Navy and not being straight. I really don’t think it’s obvious, not to our workmates or the casual observer. We have separate homes, separate lives… Our friends and family know because we told them.”

                “We didn’t tell Bradley, he figured it out on his own.”

                “He’s a smart kid. We did a good job,” Pete says, running his fingers over the back of Ice’s hand briefly, a caress that could be brushed off as accidental apart from the number of times Pete has managed it over the last decade. The closest he can give to a comforting hug in public.

                “Yeah, we did…”

                “He probably thinks we’re having reunion sex.”

                “Well, it has been five months. I wouldn’t say no.”

                Pete coughs, caught by surprise.

                “I – really? But Bradley’s home…”

                “Your son, who apparently knows we’re together, is now in his room in my house blasting music so loud I can feel it in my bones…”

                “Come on then! Time’s a wasting!” Pete says, tugging at his hand now, not wanting to give Ice time to second guess his decision and change his mind.

                “You taking me to me bedroom Mav? Where’s your sense of adventure?”

                “I left it in my thirties, it was replaced by my desire to never have my son never walk-in on me having sex…”

                Ice laughs then, reaches for him, pulls him close and he’s being kissed. Kissed properly like it’s a whole conversation, telling him how much he’s been missed, how much he’s loved, how much he’s wanted. Ice holds him close, one arm around his waist and his other hand on the back of his head, fingernails scraping through his hair and he presses against it, mainly against the hard body in front of him and one of the few perks of deployment is getting to come back to this every time.

                “Come on, take me to bed.”

…             …             …

                Bradley has seen videos of his parents, knows he’d probably have siblings if his dad had lived. He probably would have also known more than he wanted to about their sex life, given that they’d seen sickeningly in love with each other and not afraid to let the surrounding people know it. He remembers them being constantly affectionate with each other, always cuddling each other, often with him sandwiched in between.

                Mav and Ice don’t have that type of relationship at all, he’s never seen them kiss, or hold hands. Hugs have been few and far between, always coupled with manly backslaps or punches to the arm and he can only hazard a guess that it’s different behind closed doors. Except nothing between them changes over the weekend. They’re still friendly with each other, there are still looks which could maybe have a heavier meaning, but on Saturday night Mav says he’s heading home, to his place and Bradley has to stop himself from asking why.

                They have an illusion they need to maintain and he needs to play his part in maintaining it. He offers to go and stay with Mav, after all he’s only just back from five months away. Instead he’s told to stay where he is, that Ice wants to talk to him about the USNA once Tamsin and Petra are in bed. And he might not have siblings, but he does have Tamsin and Petra, who get called his little ducklings with how they follow his every move when they come to stay, or when he stays with Sarah and her wife when Ice isn’t at home and Bradley still needs to attend school. Bradley’s the one that reads them their bedtime stories, so he hugs Mav goodbye and tells him he’ll see him tomorrow.

                “You want a beer?” Ice offers and Bradley does a double take.

                “Uh. Is this a trick question?”

                Ice shrugs and Bradley accepts the bottle hesitantly, because Mav offering him whiskey as a joke last night is one thing, Ice offering him a beer with his serious face on is a whole different ball game and he knows they’re going to talk.

                “You had a chance to read through the material yet?”

                “Yeah. You know I’m going to accept right?”

                “I know. Stopping you from doing this would be like trying to stop Mav from flying. An impossible undertaking. So. I know we have time, but Plebe Summer… you want to be as physically ready for that as possible. It’ll make everything else easier. Mav and I will start you on a training regime so it’s not too much of a shock. Also start memorizing the orders now.”

                Bradley groans, but he guesses he’s going to have to prove to some that he deserves to be at USNA and not sailing in on the fact that Ice is pretty much his step-dad or de facto guardian or whatever the fuck people have been referring to their relationship as. Actually, he should probably know what other people think, or know.

                “What do other people think about me? About me living with you when Mav is deployed that is?”

                “That I’m doing Mav a favor. Some people might think it’s out of guilt, because of your dad. But it’s not. Your dad was my friend too. More than Maverick was back then, that’s for sure. Also I love you, your my kid in everything but name.”

                “It’s kind of going to suck pretending I don’t know you. Or that we aren’t close.”

                “Don’t pretend. You can mention me. But maybe don’t advertise the fact, because there will be people that will want to use your connections. There always are.”

                “Uh… I wasn’t going to try and make myself come off as a massive dick like I only earnt my place because I’m legacy.”

                “Bradley, you’re… triple legacy? If that’s even a thing. If anyone was going to accuse the Navy of nepotism then you’d be the poster child. Except you’re aptitude tests are great, you’d be a shoe in even if you weren’t a legacy kid. If you don’t want to draw attention to your relationship with me then we can manage that. I find deflection works best. When you’re asked about your family, what will you say?”

                “My dad was a naval aviator who died in a Top Gun training incident in eighty-six and my mom died of cancer in ninety-four. I was raised by my step-father after that. Any other awkward questions you want answers to?”

                Ice chuckles then, takes a drink of his beer and shakes his head.

                “God you sounded like Mav just then… You know what Mav told me to tell people when they suggested I try and reconcile with Sarah? That she was a lesbian and it was pretty hard to reconcile that.”

                “Oh ouch…”

                “Yeah, be good at what you do. Be friendly but simply discourage people from asking questions and you’ll be fine. When you make friends, and you will make friends Bradley, you’re far too social to not make friends, then you can maybe share with them who helped raise you after your mom died…”

                “You helped before she died too. You’ve always been there for me.”

                “I’ve always tried to be there.”

                “Thanks Ice.”

                “My pleasure. Now are you actually going to drink any of that or are you just warming it up?”

                “You can have it, I don’t like beer.”

                “How do you know? You haven’t even tasted it,” Ice states, his expression flat and Bradley rolls his eyes, knows when Ice is trying to wind him up.

                “You know I go to parties. I’ve had beer before.”

                “Learning all sorts this weekend aren’t we.”

                “Like you’d believe me if I said I’ve never had beer before anyway…”

                “Somedays I forget you’re not the same age as Tamsin and Petra.”

                “Ice…” Bradley says, rolling his eyes, handing him the bottle of beer.

                “If you ever have kids of your own you’ll understand.”

                “How did that, uh, work, anyway? Are you…” he trails off, not really sure how to ask his other father figure how he might identify.

                “I’m gay Bradley. Sarah knew before we even got married. Your mom set us up actually. This was back when it was instant dishonorable discharge if someone found out. Someone made a stupid passing comment about Mav and me, and we weren’t even serious about each other back then. Your mom had just been diagnosed and we knew it was a solution that would benefit everyone. Anyway, would you believe Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell is actually an improvement? It’s still not easy but…”

                “I get it. You don’t want to put me off going, but you want me to be prepared for how hard it will be.”

                “Yeah. Yeah, you get it. I don’t want you to come back to us and say we didn’t warn you. Mav isn’t academy, somehow thinks I have some secret insights I can share with you despite the fact it’s been over twenty-five years since I was there. Things will have changed.”

                They sit in silence for a few moments and Bradley knows they’ll support whatever decision he makes. That lying, even by omission, is going to become normal for him, habit. He has to accept that if he’s going to join. He’s going to have to hide himself, and his family.

                “Is it worth it?”

                “Is what worth it?”

                “Hiding.”

                The sigh Ice lets out is long and Bradley can tell he’s not avoiding the question, but more trying to formulate an answer, because he never rushes things, always treats Bradley’s questions with respect and gives him fleshed out answers, truthful ones, even when they might hurt. He’s talked more about his dad’s death with Ice than he has with Mav, knows that Mav still feels some level of guilt, and probably always will if what Ice says, so he doesn’t bring it up with him.

                “Yes and no. It used to be easy. No. That’s not right. It used to be easier. When we were younger, and had your mom and Sarah at our backs, it was easier. Now… well. We’re very used to hiding. But I’d love to take Mav to things as my partner. Officially. Not just pretend to bump into each other and pretend we haven’t seen each other in a while. It can be lonely.”

                “That sounds sucky.”

                Ice shrugs, seems reconciled to it and Bradley wonders if he’ll get like that and it makes him a little sad.

                “It is what it is. I can’t change anything. I’ve been very careful. But I made friends, close friends, ones that know about Mav and me, and some still serve now. If I lived my time again I’d make nearly all of the same choices. Maverick being one of them. He’s worth it.”

                “Even when he annoys you?” Bradley asks, because that seems to be a cornerstone of their relationship, and the smile Ice gives him is small and soft.

                “Especially when he annoys me. Reminds me not to take myself too seriously.”

                “Okay. Okay. Thanks for the talk…”

                “Anytime. You know that.”

                Yeah.

                He does.

CHAPTER TWO

[roguelov]

okay I have another idea for our throuple:

y/n is some kind of magical being and has powers as well. maybe they're power is like, manifestation. so they can will anything they want into reality, as small as a pen or as big as a freaking planet or whatever, but it's not limited to physical things.

they're immortal and have been alive for centuries and they just wander earth, staying in a city or country for a few years before moving on to the next. they always live kind of on the fringes of society, not entirely a part of it. they keep to themselves for the most part and don't involve themselves in other people's lives unless someone comes to them first. they become kind of like an urban legend wherever they live, granting wishes to whoever asks. so women would come to them for poison to discreetly get rid of their abusive husbands. or people would come to them to solve murder/missing persons cases when law enforcement failed. or helping lingering ghosts move on to the afterlife.

in other words, they simply use their powers to help other people in need. but they'd do it in a discreet way, as to not get caught. like leaving hints for the police to find and lead them in the right direction, only taking matters into their own hands when they absolutely have to.

And so they come across dream and hob one day. Maybe while out helping someone, or maybe at a ball or a banquet. but I haven't figured the rest out yet ^^ (this is really long, I'm so sorry)

ANON YOU HAVE THE BIGGEST BEAUTIFULEST BRAIN IMAGINABLE

I absolutely adore when a person could basically be a unstoppable force that no one can go against but instead is just living a very chill life. Warp reality to my will? Nah, this lil girl lost her dog and needs help so now I willed the dog to be in the bush right next to us

Can you imagine using your abilities to alter your appearance too? Perhaps that’s how you stayed off everyone’s radar because you always change a bit from style to different eyes and hair color (taller? Shorter? Wider? More muscle? Whatever). And maybe when you go to this banquet (perhaps a party filled with the supernatural and others gods and such) you change your appearance to go unnoticed. Maybe you are there to help another god and in turn they brought you to this party

However as you stay on the edges of the party you catch the eye of Dream and Hob. Dream can feel the power rolling off of you and Hob sees your kind eyes and smile. They come over and you are just stunned at seeing an Endless but Hob, an immortal, eases everything over. Hob being his cheerful self just pulls you into their small world and talks with you and you are just surprised at how welcomed you feel and find yourself laughing with Hob and Dream. And they can feel part of themselves falling in love with this kindhearted person

Maybe this story becomes Cinderella-like in how you leave the party and they try to find you but you don’t look the same at the party? So it becomes a whole adventure of Dream and Hob searching for you while you evade them (maybe you are a little frightened of falling in love since you been on your own for so long).

Also what if you’re friends with Johanna?? She’s come for you for help in the past and you love her sharp wit. Maybe Dream goes to Johanna for help in locating you meanwhile you in the next room over in a different appearance and disguising your power??

Anon honestly there is so much potential with this and I am frothing at the mouth

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Thirty (Part 2)

“Fucking hell,” He twists away and grabs the front of his hair. The rain has eased to a mist now but the clouds still shield the sky and block the light out like an early dusk. His limbs become a bit stilted and stiff as though he’s forgotten how to control them. “Fuck,” he says hoarsely, and he drops onto the wet sand and shoves the heels of his hands into the sockets of his eyes “This is it then, isn’t it? Things are over with us.”

I hesitate for a moment before sitting next to him, and the seat of my dress immediately soaks through and I don’t care about it. “Yeah,” I say gently, “They have to be, don’t they?”

“There’s nothing I can do.”

“I want you to go and be happy.”

He lets out an agonised, strangled noise, and it takes me a second to realise that he has begun to sob into his hands, and it’s the strangest thing, but I think I can feel my heart physically breaking inside my chest, tearing apart, ripping right down the centre. I didn’t know that when people spoke about heartbreak that this is what they meant all along. The ache inside me feels unbearable, and I want so badly to reach for him and tell him that I don’t mean any of it, and yes, I’ll take that Green Card and yes, I’ll come and live in Los Angeles, but instead I cram my wrist to my nose and I cry with him because it seems like the only sensible thing I can do. 

And once I’ve started I cannot stop, and the tears come, and they come, and they fill my eyes until I can’t see a thing but the greys and blues of the sea blurring together like watercolour bleeding down the page, and then I wipe them and I look to my right where Jude’s head is bowed and his shoulders are shaking, and I tell him that I’m sorry. He says something I can’t understand because he is crying too hard, but I don’t know that it really matters what it was, because on some level I know what he’s saying. Just like I do, he simply hurts. 

He sniffs and drags the heel of his hand up across his nose. He shakes his head as tears roll off the end of his spiky lashes, “God,” He says eventually, “I just really thought- I think I took it for granted that I’d get to be with you forever, or something, like we were perpetual-” and he bares his teeth and heaves a shuddering sigh into his lungs, eyes fixed on his feet, embarrassed, like he can’t bear to look at me and see what I think of him crying on the ground. “I wanted everything,” he chokes out, “All of the stupid stuff, you know? Christmases and New Years, I wanted to get you birthday presents and anniversary presents and travel with you and just- just wake up with you and make you breakfast and-” he squeezes his eyes shut, “But like, I can’t have any of it and now I just have to live without you, and it’s so horrible-”

I comb my fingers through the back of his hair and I whisper, again, that I’m sorry.

“I love you,” He says, though he knows that it’s not enough, and I know it too, because loving Jude Turner is like loving a memory, the dream, the idea of a man that my seventeen year old self believed would solve me, would prove that I am worthy of happiness only because he loves me back. And perhaps it’s an idea that he loves too, a girl who would make him feel young and careless and reckless, who would expect nothing, ask nothing from him but to be free.

I swipe at my damp cheek, “Yeah but one day you won’t. Someday when I’m long gone you’ll look back on this time and you’ll think about how glad you were that you never compromised or let yourself be held back by some girl. And then-” I sniffle, “-when you’re living this amazing life, and you’re happy and you’re successful and surrounded by people who love you you’ll think ‘oh yeah, her, God, you know, I don’t even remember what her name was anymore.’”

“No,” he shakes his head firmly, “No, I’m going to love you for my whole life.”

And then I make the loneliest sound I’ve ever made, somewhere between a gasp and a sob as I relent and throw myself into his chest so that I can let him hold me. He kisses my hair so gently and rests his cheek upon my head and says simply, “I’ll miss you.”

“And I’ll miss you,” I reply, “And don’t think I’ll ever forget you either. You know that you’re going to be everywhere, you’ll be the ghost that follows me around. Every time I wake up and you aren’t there, or get home and you aren’t waiting at the door, and every time my feet touch this coastline, and I get into the sea, or see the roof of that beach house poking over the dunes I’ll think, you know, I really wish he was here, because everything I did was better when he did it with me,” I exhale thickly, “But then I’ll think of you somewhere else in the world where I know that you’ll be happy and I’ll just be happy to, because I want that for you, I really do, even if I don’t get to be a part of it.”

There’s a long pause while we cry together, and he reaches down to brush fresh tears from my cheekbones, “I feel lucky to have known you when I did,” He says, “When I- When I go to LA, you know, I doubt I’ll be back again for a very long time, and- God, -and by then who knows where your talent will have taken you and what you’ll be doing. To know you now feels like the greatest privilege, and I know that you’re telling yourself that I won’t remember you years from now, but actually I’ll be saying, yeah, I knew that girl once and she was incredible, I caught her in a moment in time and you should have seen her, when talent just radiated off her like the heat from a sunburn and she didn’t even know it yet.”

I turn to face him and look him dead in the eyes, because I don’t know the next time I’ll get to really look at them, “You’ll be happy,” I insist. If I mean it I can make it so.

“You too,” He says , “And maybe when we both are we’ll find our way back to each other again.”

“Yeah, I hope so,” I say, and in that moment the sun finally breaks through the clouds, just a sliver of it, and it hits the side of his beautiful face, glows on his cheek and his hair and through his brown eyes to turn them golden, the colour and warmth of flames.

That’s how I’ll always remember him. 

And when our story is over and the edges of the clouds turn pink and amber, I get up to walk away. I turn to look at him one more time though I can hardly bear to. Standing there in the sunlight he simply raises his hand. “I’ll see you, Evie,” He says. 

“Yes,” I say, “someday.”

THE END To my Tumblr readers, thank you so much for reading along. It's been a pleasure to share this story with you.

For a very long time I knew that I wanted to tell a story like this. I felt like I had so many things to say, about growing up, about this country, about the way it feels to inhabit it, how it felt to be young and bored with no money to spend during the recession era – the uniqueness of that particular moment in time and the feelings, places and people that have changed in the years since, but I just never got around to it.

One evening in July of 2022 my mother, who has become an avid wild swimmer since her retirement, took me down to the beach to take a dip in the sea. It’s a beach I’ve been on a thousand times having grown up just a few kilometers away from it. I’d swum in it, walked it, even worked on it for three summers during my early twenties but for some reason on that day I felt overwhelmingly nostalgic about it. This is not a very exciting beach, I thought, but isn’t it a bit beautiful in it’s own way. From my place, neck deep in the water I looked at the way the marram grass shimmered in the wind and bits of old fishing nets and driftwood littered the coarse sand. A line of identical holiday homes peeped up over a low stone wall, and a little corrugated iron summer house sat right in the middle of the dunes, flat roof, wooden deck. I’ve always wondered who owned it.

Later on I got home and typed a few paragraphs of a story on my computer. I hadn’t written a thing in years. Then I just didn’t stop.

I’d spent the entire pandemic overanalysing my teenage traumas, reliving the things I’d done in college and into the first years of my twenties. A lot of weird things happened to me. Very dramatic things, honestly. I think I am the sort of person that draws highly erratic types to me or perhaps is just inclined to stir up emotionally intense situations, and as a result my life had felt like a whirlwind, some sort of strange carousel until I was forced to step off it in 2020. There’s no point getting into it, really. You’ve read Lucky Girl, so you get the gist.

I have to say thank you to my wonderful friends for being my biggest cheerleaders during this process. They hyped me up and listened to my every thought, proof read, problem solved and helped me to understand that it’s not embarrassing to do this, in fact it’s actually pretty cool to publish a story in this way. Grace & Sarah, thanks for letting me borrow from your lives as much as I borrowed from my own, and for talking in circles with me about everything and anything that came into our heads. I love you to bits ❤

Also to my partner, who never read this story, but tells his friends that his girlfriend wrote a book!! Who brought me tea and cooked me food while I was in a whirlwind of inspiration. He really just wanted me to come into the living room so that we could watch Succession, or White Lotus, or X Files, or whatever else we were binging during the last 15 months, but he never complained. “Ah, sims.” He’d say, and shut the office door.

To my first love and my teenage friends, who I think of all the time. Who embodied a time and a space that I’ll never inhabit again, but I’ll never forget any of it. I remember all of the places or the people who were around me while I lived out the end of my childhood, and when I revisit the places we used to go there are a thousand tiny snapshots of memory everywhere. Of these teenagers that don’t exist anymore, who are all entering their thirties now, of the time we had, the person I used to be and the inexplicable importance of those few short years. Nowadays when I’m there, on those beaches and in those woods I swear it’s like there’s a ghost there with me, and it’s me, the person I used to be. I’m reminded of the incredible distance I’ve come since fifteen.

To my readers most of all, thank you from the bottom of my heart. You really kept me going when it got tough and when it all felt too close to the bone, and I was a bit too freaked out to write. Your comments made this story such a wonderful experience and I’m so glad that I got to share it with you all. I still kind of can’t believe that so many people have read this thing – it’s bizarre. I really didn’t think a single person would care, but here we are. You’re all angels.

All my love,

Hannah.

Beginning // Prev // Epilogue

[mycatsaidwhat]

things i’ve heard college students say pt. 27

-if you hit it raw, why are you voting red? 

-if all he does is smoke and give you meat, you’re dating a barbeque grill sis 

-being horny is a feminine trait, you should be thinking about war

-lord, we thank thee for the food before us *grocery store sushi, sponge bob fruit punch, pokemon-themed fruity pebbles* 

-why does the aftertaste of coke zero taste like blood 

-suck it up, you’re an American, you can do anything with god and Nixon on your side

-i’m too drunk to pray for god 

-if I’m ever in a coma, just show me that meme of Georgia as a state backslapping the Republican elephant and I will bolt upright 

-“Academic weapon” and “alcoholic” both begin with A

That they do, Braden, that they do

-My Little Pony? More like My Big Pony

That did psychological damage

-turning right on red is the greatest civil liberty we have left in this country 

-well as of 1989, dueling does not prevent you from running for public office, so props to you 

-he walks like he got pegged

-if I’m ever throwing up on the side of the road and I text you that I’m drunk, you don’t have to come get me. I always find my way home. Like a pigeon. 

-being in a relationship will NOT solve your problems. Happiness comes from substance abuse 

-I wrote down all the reasons we should do shots tonight. For context I have an essay due tomorrow. 

-I want you to take a picture of Quintin Tarantino in person because he simply CANNOT look that weird in real life 

-you’ve got like 50 feet of intestines, right? You could definitely do a couple laps around a tree with them 

-*is making an alignment chart of writers that we’ve covered in class and whether we could take them in a fight and if we’d feel good about it* 

-i wanna kill everything or die, I don’t know, I’m sad 

-he seems like the kind of professor who would make us fill out the course evals in class 

-he has abs, what do you think we were doing? 

-Here in this house we stand for the flag. The flag being Bucky Barnes in the first Captain America movie, greasy and sweaty and freshly tortured

-I’m just trying to enjoy my shitty Busch light and you bring me Charles LeClerc with his legs spread 

-if I got cancer my private snap story would become an inspirational story and that sounds like a lot of pressure 

-college is just progressively caring less about people seeing what you’re doing on your computer in class. I’m texting, I’m on Doordash, I’m on Shein, I’m on Tinder, I do not give a fuck 

-got stacks on stacks on stacks, baby I clear the racks 

Nice, Dr. Suess, get it! 

I was referencing a rap over Gimme More by Britney Spears, but sure  

-if doing drugs and fucking raw in pools in front of everyone is what adult producers think eleventh graders are up to these days then someone needs to tell them 

-I’d fuck to the Gravity Falls theme 

-you missed the professor’s Coin Jar Day and his annual discussion of child marriage 

[bi-bard]

Wasteland, Baby! I'm In Love with You - Sam Winchester Imagine [Supernatural]

Title: Wasteland, Baby! I'm In Love with You

Pairing: Sam Winchester X Reader

Based On: Wasteland, Baby!

Word Count: 1,387 words

Warning(s): canon-typical injuries/sickness

Summary: [Season 11] The apocalypse was constantly looming overhead. (Y/n) had sworn to keep their feelings for Sam to themself until the threat was gone. However, with a new threat popping up every other day, (Y/n) grows tired of waiting and decides to throw caution to the wind.

Author's Note: I remember this being the most difficult song to decide a character for.

WASTELAND, BABY! - HOZIER WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

-----------------

I always felt selfish for wanting to leave the hunting life.

It had been instilled in me that I was given this life for a reason. Mainly so some other poor bastard didn't have to do it. It was a rough path to follow, but I was doing it for the right reason.

That didn't change that I still ended up in these states where all I wanted was to walk away from it all. Go find some job in some small grocery store or simply hide away in a cabin somewhere.

Those states only got worse after I met Sam.

Getting dragged into the Winchester's world was like being pulled into the next circle of hell. An apocalypse was around every corner. A new monster seemed to always find us before anyone else. We solved the problems caused by monsters, demons, angels, and even the Devil.

I thought that the increased danger was the only reason that my craving for normalcy had gotten so much worse.

As time went on, I knew that wasn't the case.

Over the years, I started to realize that it wasn't the bigger risks. It was the fact that I could actually picture it now. Instead of some vague idea, it was a vivid image. I could find myself not just longing for it, but actually picturing it with another person... with Sam.

I would've given anything to give up on that ridiculous idea of mine. Our lives were run by death and the constant risk of the world ending. Entertaining the childish feelings that I had was doing nothing other than wasting time.

But as the years passed, I found that I just couldn't shake those little habits. Looking for him after a fight, leaning in just a little bit closer whenever we sat next to each other, agreeing with him on almost everything. Constant reminders that I couldn't just brush this all off until later.

I held it all back for as long as I could.

And then, Amara happened. And she brought a... sickness with her.

Sam wanted me to leave when Dean did. I refused. He didn't like the idea of me staying there, but I didn't really care. Walking away from him felt impossible.

I found him sitting in the chapel. He was silent, either praying to God or about to.

"Hey," I said. He jumped, turning to me. "Sorry."

He just turned back toward the front of the chapel. I walked over and sat in the chair next to him.

"(Y/n)-"

"Don't tell me to sit farther away," I cut him off. "I'm getting tired of that speech."

"I wouldn't have to keep giving it if you just listened to me."

"Oh, what fun would my life be if I listened to you?" I chuckled. I glanced at the darkness crawling up the veins on his neck. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine."

I paused for a moment. "You don't have to lie to me, Sam."

"I'm not," he scoffed.

"Then why are you sitting in a chapel?"

He didn't have a real response to that. He just let the muscles in his jaw shift a bit as he moved a bit in his seat.

"I almost admire it... I would have thought that after so long in this life that praying would just..."

"Lose meaning?"

"Kind of," I shrugged.

"I haven't... I haven't in a very long time," he confessed. "I just... I wanted some sign of a cure."

I nodded.

We fell silent after that. I took the time to study him with little to no consequence. My eyes moved from the veins on his neck to his jaw. From his jaw to his eyes. His ever-so worried eyes. Always wanting an answer. Always wanting to save someone. I never knew that such a simple expression could make me feel truly at peace. I adored it.

I don't know when I truly decided to throw any and all caution to the wind.

I just knew that I had to.

I knew that I wouldn't be able to live with myself if this all took a turn for the worse and I never said anything to him.

"Sam..."

He looked over at me.

I froze for a moment. As if the realization of what I was going to do was finally setting in. I just needed to find a way to get the words out.

My hesitation must've been obvious to him. "(Y/n)?"

"I...," I took a deep breath. "I love you."

He scoffed. "I'm not dead yet, (Y/n)."

"I'm being serious."

His small grin fell as he studied my face. I wonder if he was trying to see if I was lying. Or if he was just trying to get a better grasp on what exactly I meant.

He didn't get the chance to ask me about it before he leaned forward and placed his head in his hands. He was very clearly in pain, shaking and grunting.

"Hey, Sam..."

I grabbed his arm. I tried to pull his hand away so I could eventually guide him to look at me.

The topic of that conversation died right then.

We started working on a cure. We actually started saving people. Like we were supposed to. We reconnected with Dean.

What I had thought could've been the end had been averted.

The conversation that Sam and I had would go untouched until after Dean, Sam, and I got back to the bunker.

Dean was helping a very wounded Cas. He waved Sam off to his room like a parent would a toddler. And then he waved me out with him, saying that he could "tell that something was different" and that "we needed to sort it out because he had bigger issues to deal with."

Sam was sitting in his room when I found him.

"Hey," I spoke up, leaning against the doorway.

"Hey," he grinned at me.

"How are you... How are you feeling," I asked. I felt my heart sitting in my throat.

"Fine," he shrugged. There was a pause. "We need to talk... about what you said."

My stomach dropped. I took a deep breath before stepping inside and pushing the door shut behind me. I leaned against the shut door. I don't know if it was my attempt to seem calm or if it was because I was scared to get too close for whatever reason.

"I meant it," I spoke up, trying to calm my nerves for a moment.

"Really," he asked.

"Yeah," I muttered. "I... I've loved you for years now. I kept... I kept thinking that I just needed to wait for a time when the end of the world didn't seem so... imminent, but we were sitting in that hospital and there wasn't a sign of a cure... I couldn't waste any more time. Through every moment that we were looking at the end of the world, my feelings never changed or faltered. They've just always been there."

Sam didn't speak up for a minute. That only worried me more.

"And you don't have to feel the same or even say anything about it. I just needed you to know," I added quickly.

"I do," he replied. "I do feel the same."

"Oh..."

There was this long pause between us. As if we were letting the dust around us settle. Everything that needed to be known was known. The only question left was what was going to happen now.

Sam stood up and walked over to me. I stopped leaning on the door. His hand reached up to touch the side of my face. I grinned at him.

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to mine. I reached forward, touching his sides so I could pull him closer to me. The kiss was slow. After waiting for far too long, we both seemed to have this urge to savor this moment as best we could.

Sam leaned back to press his forehead against mine.

I went to lean forward and kiss him again, but paused when he spoke, "I love you."

I felt the smile growing on my lips.

At that moment, the world could have been burning down around me and I wouldn't hold any fear in my chest.

Because at least I would have him.

-----------------

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[ckiine]

Fan shorts #1

Shinichi tending to injured Ran (Shiragami-sama)

Shinichi felt his heart lurching the moment he recognized the scream.

From his vantage point on the tree he had simply seen a person running around in the forest and he turned to hide away because if his identity gets exposed to anyone, Mokoto-san could very likely attempt suicide. Not to mention he was carrying around a fully loaded gun. Things could get very ugly, very fast.

But never in his life did he expect that the moment he would turn away he would here her scream.

In that moment his body went cold as he saw Ran tumbling down the cliff and jumped like a mad man over the tree tops to reach her as soon as possible.

He saw her collapsed and at the verge of fainting, her body was trembling slightly. He was stunned and shocked at the sight of Ran collapsed like that. Ran's eyes cracked open and she saw Shiragami-sama standing before her. Somehow she was not scared, her body was in so much pain that she felt herself go numb. With her final glance she started at the creature of legend and prayed with all her heart, with all her sincerity.

Please heal him. I beg of you Shiragami-sama. Please. I will give up my heart to you. All of it, but please let the real Shinichi come back.

"Shinichi...."

Taking the name of her beloved Ran welcomed the darkness.

Shinichi let out a ragged breath and felt his heart beating painfully, she had called out for him, even in such a situation she was calling for him. He felt miserable.

He bent down and moved her as gently as possible. There were multiple cuts and lacerations on her body but thankfully there were no fractures. He studied the shallow cliff from where she fell and saw no jagged rocks so most likely Ran had no serious head injuries either. Only then he let out a slight sigh of relief.

Ran, you silly woman why are you reckless?

He delicately gathered her in his arms and picked her up. Ran let out a slight whimper of pain at the sudden movement.

"Please hold on Ran, I will definitely protect you." Shinichi's voice was extremely soft and warm as he said these words and pulled the fainted girl as close to him as possible.

"Shinichi...." She whispered his name again even in her passed out state.

"Yes Ran don't worry, I am right here. I am by your side." He spoke softly and lovingly. Thankfully he reached the hut quickly, where he had a first aid box.

Thank god, at least I can disinfect her wounds and bandage them. I must solve this case quickly and take her for a full checkup.

Hattori, hurry up and solve this already, I dont have much time!

Shinichi sighed with impatience, it was quite rare for him to feel like that but a man was parading around with his face and had attempted a murder and to top it all off Shinichi too had turned back to normal but he couldn't even reveal himself freely, not to mention he had no idea when he would shrink again. He guessed he had close to 48 hours but stopping Makoto-san was more important.

He gently set Ran down and retrieved the first aid box. He glanced at her sleeping form and felt his face warm up.

She looks so defenseless sleeping like that.

Get to work you moron, now is not the time to admire her.

Shinichi slapped himself mentally and got to work and almost immediately had to prayed for forgiveness.

He was bandaging her legs.

Ahem

He successfully bandaged her knee but her right thigh was bleeding. Shinichi bit his lips and tried to control his erratic thoughts.

Moron! Idiot! Not now, she needs your help.

He tried to empty his thoughts and work as swiftly as possible, he cleaned her cut, applied the antiseptic and placed the gauze over her injury. The only thing left to do was bandage it.

Shinichi prayed for every from of patience out there and muttering a quick apology he grabbed her thigh. He avoided looking as much as possible and tried to work with swift glances so as to not peek too much. But not everything could be avoided because Ran, after all was wearing a skirt. By the end of it his lower lip was almost bleeding and his face was hot and flushed. He fixed Ran's skirt and moved away from her as if his body was on fire.

I need to get out of here.

Shinichi ran outside the cottage blushing like mad. He could hardly be blamed. In the end he was simply a teenage boy who had for the very first time psuedo-intimately touched the girl he adored. Although the circumstances were not favorable, but how was he supposed to keep his cool?

His palms were still tingling due to the lingering feel of Ran's skin. His fingers had nearly sunk in the soft supple skin. It was velvety and warm to touch. The scary part was, he wanted to touch her more. He wanted to touch every inch of her, feel her pressed up against him. Soft and warm. Safe and comfortable. Close and protected.

Shinichi let out a strangled cry and nearly smashed his head in the nearby tree.

Ran, do you know how much I long to be with you?

Shinichi lit a small fire as a signal for Hattori and the others.

I don't have the luxury of time

Shinichi went back to the hut a lot more in control and a little melancholic. He bandaged her hands and moved to clean her face but couldn't stop to gaze at her. Ran's face looked a little flushed and her eyebrows were furrowed as if in pain. She kept whimpering and made small hurting sounds.

The fever must be setting in now.

"Please Ran. Hold on for little bit. You will be okay soon, so please don't be in pain." Shinichi spoke softly in a coaxing manner

He hoisted her up and fed her a pain killer and a fever reducer.

Once he was done, he just looked at her helplessly and he couldn't resist. He held Ran in his arms again like a protective embrace and Shinichi felt the tension and stress evaporate from his body. His eyes were warm and adoring but they were filled with immense longing as well.

He yearned to talk to her, to touch and simply be with her. It was ironic because as Conan he was literally living with her but at times it actually filled him with much more despair that happiness.

Very slowly as if possessed, he ran his fingers through her hair. Even after her tumble in the forest Ran's hair was soft and silky to touch. Ran's face eased up as well and a peaceful look settled on her features, almost as if she recognized the person embracing her.

"Shinichi...." Ran mumbled in her sleep.

Shinichi came to his senses and pulled away from her.

I cant!

Shinichi had a wry smile, even this moment was stolen from fate almost like a figment of his imagination.

He let her down and got up. Ran even in her collapsed state felt the familiar warmth moving away from her and she whimpered in despair.

"Don't go..... Don't leave me...." She mumbled in distress and lone silver streak shone in her lower eyelids.

Shinichi felt wrecked looking at her in this state. He crouched over her body and gently cupped her cheek and wiped her tears, gently shushing her.

"Hush Ran, I promise, I am right by your side. I am always with you."

Shinichi, almost as if biwitched, leaned down and placed a feather lite kiss on her forehead.

You will permit me just this much, wont you Ran?

Their faces were close, Shinichi drank in her features like a parched man. Ran's her long lashes, flushed cheeks, plump rosy lips, her silky soft hair.

He sighed deeply and moved away from her and rushed out of the cabin.

Hattori and the others must be arriving soon. I need to drop him hint somehow, but I guess he will be able to deduce certain things the moment he looks in the other room of the cabin.

But Shinichi could still feel his body burning and it was not because he was reverting back to Conan but because of a certain woman for whom he was head over heels in love with.

[waitmyturtles]

Alllllright, a quick and dirty late review of the BELOVED show, Bed Friend, episode 8, which I referenced yesterday as getting just BETTER and BETTER with each ticking minute. A warning in advance that I am dizzyingly jet-lagged, so this may be non-sensical at times, but just roll with me, because:

IT WAS A GREAT EPISODE. Like I said in the comments of the post linked above, god, this episode had so much! I love the beach-vacay-and-temple-shots trope. I love that King jetted to see Uea. I love that they reconciled. I LOVE THAT WE GOT TO SEE FAMILY THAT LOVES UEA. I love King’s thirst for revenge -- we didn’t even SEE Krit in this episode, buh-bye! I love King’s desire to continue to make things right for Uea vis à vis the private investigator.

King didn’t just say that he’d take care of Uea. He is showing the hell up and doing the job, and damn. Yes, yes, he’s gotta channel that repressed energgyyyyy somehow, heh, but no, seriously. 

King’s in love with Uea. And I love how this show showed that development, and shows how committed King IS to Uea. While the plot is complicated, and full of STUFF -- King’s commitment to Uea is UNCOMPLICATED. It’s piercing through our hearts. He’s a man in love, and he’s gonna do shit for the man he loves, period. 

Geez. I so didn’t expect this from this show (as @wen-kexing-apologist noted in their review of episode 8 -- the seriously complicated plot at the start of the series made me wonder if this script was going to weakly solve everything with Uea just falling in love and being like, ooooh, everything’s great now). I didn’t expect that the very uncomplicated DRIVE by King to dig into Uea’s issues and help him problem-solve through his past would be the ultimate anchor for this series. 

I fucking LOVE that this show spun me for a loop. In a little bit of a Bad Buddy-ish way -- it took a player trope, the image of a player, and totally spun it on its head. King is weak for Uea. The kind of power that we think a player would have -- welp, King is using that kind of power instead to help Uea resolve real and tangible issues. 

I love that Lampang serves as a place of respite for Uea. I love that he has that, in physicality, and that King met him there. I love that it becomes, through Uea’s aunt and Uea, a place of love for Uea. We know he fucking deserves that.

I love seeing Uea fall for King. The corner smiles, the teasing, the silent giggling. The intimate confessions at the table near the kitchen (love all the implications of sitting at a place that means so much to making a HOME together, à la Kinou Nani Tabeta). 

I FREAKING LOVE LOVE LOVE THE COMPANY TEAM, Y’ALL. JADE AND GUN AND THE LADIES, come awn! Jade = MVP, one of the best.

This isn’t so much of an analytical review (I can’t muster the energy right now) as it is more of a love letter to how this show has fucking just held. its. own. against a tremendously complicated plot line. In particular, as many have mentioned, especially @bengiyo‘s stray thoughts, it was SO IMPORTANT, SO SO SO IMPORTANT, to see Uea take meds and talk about how receiving mental health care is helping him get through his days (@bengiyo, I’m also curious about the question you pose about survivors being offered mental health care at their companies -- as someone in the social services, that strikes me as a good idea, but I wonder if survivors have other interpretations, particularly related to privacy and labor retention, and the company avoiding harassment lawsuits).

In other words, this episode simply had everything. It doesn’t reach the Bad-Buddy-episode-10 echelon by way of both acting AND writing, but damn, did it ever close a hell of a lot of loops in a very convincing way.

And we get more next week. With all props to @wen-kexing-apologist: #pransdaddarktimeline edition looks like it closes out (and I HOPE that fucking mom GETS HERS TOO, pardon my franche). And a new guy in Uea’s life... this show keeps throwing curves, but now I trust that it’ll be handled well. 

[gunsli-01]

For the Milgram oc thing- an oc that's 17? And questions 3, 7, 9, 11 and 16 :- 3c

Curse the lack of anon...!

Yay~

3. What is their reasoning behind their killing(s)?

"It was getting really troublesome. There's just so much a person can let slide; ya, know?"

Jayden's reasoning behind his actions is whatever causes the least problems while solving the main issue. If that happens to turn out to be killing somebody he's not oppossed to doing it.

7. If they hadn't been put in Milgram would they have continued killing?

"No, it's stupid to make something like that a daily thing if one doesn't have to."

9. How would their prisoner outfit change depending on their verdict?

"Changing your clothes just because of how people view you is stupid."

If he was voted Innocent his clothes would get more dishelved and he'd outwardly seem irritable. However, his hair would still be well maintained and he'd appear well kept outside of the state of his slovenly attire.

His mindset would frankly be,

"Fuck trying to make these prison clothes look nice. I don't want to even be here."

So, it wouldn't be because he was actively changing his clothes to display that but simply because he wouldn't really care or be interested. If he were voted guilty his clothes would be more well kept but not really change aesthetically and he'd seem a lot more calm. Regadless of how many times he were voted guilty or how restrained he was.

11. What recurring themes present themselves throughout their music videos?

Police, criminality, vilification, ostracization, surveiling, self-policing, and interrogations (in a this isn't my first rodeo type of way).

16. Do you have any minigram plots for them?

Jayden is in the same Milgram James is in. So they'd continue to interract well off each other.

James: *writing dreamily into a journal*

Jayden: Oooo you look like you're writing something good let me see.

James: Sure, here you go!

Jayden expression getting bleaker as he flips through the journal. Before closing it.

Jayden: Ya, know you're really calm outwardly but yeah somethings-

James: Uniquely wrong with me?

Jayden: Pleasantly unhinged about you. I will be reading this again when you add more. Because I could never fucking imagine feeling as much emotion as I read here. Great job keep doing what you're doing regardless of what anyone says.

(The journal ammounting to literally multiple pages about discussing everything great about his victim and how he'd certainly do it again and she's a god to him. As ephemeral in memory as she was in life.

Jayden: This is so unhealthy god I wish that were me. I wish I allowed myself to go that insane in the privacy of my own mind.

Jayden is simply the definition of I will support my homies unhealthy fixation.)

This would lead to James continually coming up to him when he adds on more.

3. What is their reasoning behind their killing(s)?

"They tried really hard didn't they. They tried really hard and still... How about you try now? Try really hard to keep breathing for as long as you can. After all you were the one who had fun watching people struggle in vain first. So, keep having fun."

7. If they hadn't been put in Milgram would they have continued killing?

For work purposes yes. For personal reasons no.

9. How would their prisoner outfit change depending on their verdict?

If she's innocent, she'd have a very preppy outfit underneath her prisoner uniform. Kind of like that of a bubbly college student. She's the sort to order clothes simply because she's bored and not because she genuinely plans to wear them. They just look cute in the moment, and she can imagine wearing them. She'd request clothing catalogs to the prison first thing and have a laundry list of clothes on order.

Other prisoners can find her trying on clothes in her prison cell as if modeling for herself regularly and she will invite people to watch and ask for their opinion on the outfits.

If guilty, the color pallete of the clothing she chooses would be different and more muted, leaning into pastels instead of bright colors. Yet, it'd still be noticeably preppy. She would, however, start accessorizing with jewelry, and it would probably be the first time anyone noticed she had piercing simply because she wasn't wearing earrings before.

11. What recurring themes present themselves throughout their music videos?

Revenge, fairness, games, collective responsibility.

16. Do you have any minigram plots for them?

She'd be in the same Milgram as Luna, which is downright hilarious given what incited her crime. She would bother Luna to regularly watch her try on clothes simply because she's an actress, and Celia believes she has good taste because of that. Luna keeps telling her actresses have stylists for that, and she rarely picks out what she's going to wear. Yet, Celia just ignores it. It's heavily implied she has another personal reason for bothering her, and the topic of boys keeps coming up.

[vroomvroommbtch]

So it goes: Chapter 32 - MI x OC

Masterlist

Summary: A little trip to memory lane never hurt anybody, especially if the trip takes them to the place where everything started.

Pairing: Michael Italiano x fem!OC

Warnings: Some mentions of angst, some mentions of tears, some swearing and all the fluff you can get.

Word count: 6.7k

A/N: HI! Oh my god its been so fucking long. Really long and I feel terrible about it. Life has been nothing but a complete mess and to be the cherry on top my laptop decided to die BUT here we are back in business! Probably nobody missed this but I missed my problematic kiddos so much lol For the ones who asked for some happiness for dear little Maggie, here you have it. Now I’m just trying to not ruin Jas’ life for more than obvious reasons -RBR- and that’s why I’m holding myself. 😬 OKAY. Let me know what you think? Meanwhile I’ll be writing a Christmas thingy 👀. See ya bye! 🫡♥️

---

Part 32 - Death of a bachelor.

Since the day they came back together everything was so smooth that it was almost scary. Part of her brain was always waiting for something to go wrong, but every day she reminded herself that things didn’t have to go wrong. There was no reason for something to go wrong and in case something happened they could fix it. Maggie knew if they could fix the mess she made between them during the wedding weekend then they could fix everything, and that’s exactly how things were.

They didn’t have many problems, in fact, she could count them with one hand and she was pretty proud of them about it. Besides, when it happened, every single crisis was solved so simply that it looked like magic. But Maggie knew it wasn’t magic; it was simply her wonderful Michael and his incredible patience, which she thanked him and her lucky stars every single day for it.

The biggest problems they had were just two.

The first one was their relationship being public, which Michael solved by making it clear with an Instagram story. In one of his Q&As, someone asked him who was his favorite person in the whole world, to which Michael answered with a picture of Maggie with Olivia sitting on her lap while they were watching tv. The picture was accompanied by a little ‘Them’ on top of it, and right beside there was a tiny green heart. If that wasn’t enough, it was clear in the picture that they were home and Maggie was wearing a hoodie that was clearly his for the size. And if that wasn’t enough, the same weekend everything about them came to light, Michael decided to walk into the paddock with his arm around her shoulders, making sure nobody would bother her. After that weekend they didn’t even try to hide their love and their relationship. In fact, Maggie found herself sitting on Michael’s lap outside the Mclaren building after the Singapore race. He was the one who told her to sit there with him because there weren’t enough chairs, and that’s how they ended up cuddling together in front of the whole paddock for the first time under the Singapore sky. For some reason at the beginning, she was all worried about it, still not used to being with Michael in his work environment, but she got to relax after some kisses and whispers saying everything was going to be alright. Besides, her family was there, and they were all chatting and laughing while Olivia tried her first ice cream, and Jas complained about having to deal with a baby with a sugar rush and how Maggie and Michael were going to have to look after her.

The second crisis was a bit more complicated than the first one, and that one took even more cuddles and patience because it has nothing to do with people talking, but more with Maggie’s head and their relationship. She was with Jas and Olivia in their hotel room when she saw the story on his Instagram and felt the panic creeping inside her chest and taking over. That was one of the bad days when her mind was so loud that she couldn’t make it stop and something such as a simple question just triggered her. Michael answering that he wanted to keep working on motorsports or another professional sport if Daniel was taking a year off was what made her feel like the walls started to fall around her. They haven’t talked about it yet. They were too busy with life and everything that was happening that the conversation didn’t happen. Maggie didn’t ask either, thinking the answer was kind of easy, but she was wrong. Jas insisted it was nothing. As soon as Jas saw Maggie’s face changing while looking at her phone, her sister insisted there was nothing to worry about, especially knowing Michael and how he wasn’t going to risk them and what they had. ‘Y’know how he is. He wouldn’t buy a keychain without asking what you think about it, ciagot’ were Jas’ words as she held Olivia in her arms, checking if her fever was still there. That was the reason why the girls didn’t go to the track on Thursday as they normally would do. It was just another day of questions, interviews, and press for Daniel, so that included none of them having anything to do at the paddock. But the problem for Maggie was not seeing Michael until late that afternoon, which gave her too much time on her mind, which wasn’t nice.

She couldn’t read or draw because of the same reason, which made everything even worse. That was one of those days all she wanted to do was forget the world existed and hide under the sheets of the bed, and that’s exactly what she did. Since Olivia’s temperature was almost back to normal and considering Daniel texted saying he was almost done with work, Jas insisted it was fine if Maggie wanted to go back to her room and wait for Michael. Everyone who knew Maggie also knew that Michael was the only one able to make everything go away and calm her when everything was too much. Maggie also knew that Jas was right when she said Michael wouldn't decide anything without her, but even then, she couldn’t stop overthinking. Once in their room, Maggie tried to nap, but even that was impossible. Even when the pillow smelled like his perfume and lavender, the bed was cold, and she hated it. Not even the hoodie that she took from his suitcase was enough. She needed his arms around her. She needed Michael promising everything was going to be alright. She needed him and his kisses and his love.

Repeating it herself wasn’t enough, but she did it anyway until Michael finally walked into the dark room. She had no idea how much time passed, but she could see the sunlight slowly disappearing in the middle of the curtains. All she did while she lay down was focus on that as she took deep breaths to calm herself. But then she felt his arms. She felt his arms moving around her waist and that was enough to make Maggie melt against him. His chest against her back, their legs tangling and his chin resting against her shoulder were what finally made her let go of a breath she has been holding since she read those words. It was in the safety of his arms that she finally got to admit how terrified she was. Saying it loud didn’t take away the terrible feeling or the pressure on her chest, but it helped. Maggie still felt like someone was squeezing her heart but somehow a weight was taken off her shoulders as soon as she admitted it. She knew it was Michael sharing the weight with her that made her feel lighter.

When they went back together, when they sat and talked about them, and when they fix everything, they made a deal, and part of it included Maggie admitting when she had a bad day. It was part of Michael’s pleas for Maggie to talk to him because he couldn’t read her mind. He knew her. He knew her body like the back of his head, he knew her soul and heart, and he knew her better than anyone in the world, but he needed Maggie to let him in. He just needed one word to know, but beyond anything, he wanted Maggie to not bottle things up inside her. He just wanted one word to know, no explanation necessary if she wasn’t feeling like it. He just wanted her to let him know, just like he would do if it was the other way around. ‘Just say it and we’ll get in our bubble til you felt better’ was his promise, and he kept it. He always did and that day wasn’t the exception.  

That day Maggie murmured that she was having a bad day and Michael said that he knew and that it was fine, but also asked her to turn around. Maggie couldn’t deny him that, so she did, hiding her face on his neck as Michael kissed her forehead and stroked her back. There was only one reason why Maggie wouldn’t be by Olivia’s side on a Thursday, so clearly Michael knew something was wrong.

It took her some deep breaths and some kisses on her forehead to say she saw his answer on Instagram. It took her even more to admit she fucked up by giving for granted and thinking it was obvious that he was going to take a year off too. Maggie felt stupid admitting how she imagined that since Dan was taking a year off, Michael was doing the same. She felt dumb as she apologized for not talking to him before even thinking it was an option, but then she explained she thought it was an available option considering he still had his client and his program and all his things. She knew she shouldn’t, but Maggie apologized for being so silly.

As soon as she was over with the apology, Michael asked for her to look at him. Holding as close as possible and looking straight into her eyes, Michael insisted there was nothing to apologize for and that he knew perfectly fine that her fear came from not knowing what was going to happen in the future. And there was again his superpower of knowing what she was thinking and expressing it in a couple of words when all she could do was ramble.

But he was right in that, Daniel taking a year off and Michael probably not taking one meant them going on separate ways, and it was the scariest thing in the universe. With tears that she couldn’t hold for too long, Maggie explained that the idea of not seeing them for too long was almost paralyzing. But there was something way worse than that and it was the fear of losing Michael again, and all that together was like a nightmare. None of them knew what was going to happen, but if Jas, Olivia, Dan, and even Blake were in Australia and if Michael went to work with someone else, that meant Maggie was going to be alone in London. She knew Lily was around, but her best friend had her life and she would travel for work from time to time. Michael’s sister was also in London, they adored each other, and Maggie knew she could count on her for anything she needed, but Nadia also had her life. And her family was in Dublin and even when it was a short flight away, it wasn’t the same.

On top of that, if Michael went to work with someone else and he traveled, Maggie wasn’t going to be able to go with him. She knew the privilege of going around the world with him was because of Jas and Daniel. They were family so going with them was normal. Being there to help them with everything and especially with Olivia was normal and logical and the reason why she left everything, that’s why it felt like the walls were falling apart around her. That was the only life she knew in the last three years, especially since Olivia was born. For the last couple of years it has been the five of them -and then the six of them- against the world. That was how things were supposed to be and Maggie felt like if she didn’t have that then she had nothing. She had no idea who she was without them.

After every single thought and fear left her mouth and mind, Michael made sure to replace them with nothing but love and understanding. He insisted what he said didn’t mean anything, because as Jas said, he wouldn’t decide something so big and important without talking to her first. Then he insisted that, even if Maggie forgot, he knew who she was. Between gentle strokes and sweet kisses, Michael whispered she was nothing but the most wonderful woman in the whole world, who also had the biggest heart that he had ever seen. He was finally able to make her smile shyly when he joked saying he had no idea how such a big heart could fit inside her chest and her tiny, perfect, beautiful body and that he was the luckiest man in the world to have her by his side.

The last thing Michael did was apologize. He insisted he should have known better, he should have imagined that was gonna make her freak out. He apologized again because, if she was the most wonderful woman in the world, he was the biggest idiot in the world. He shouldn’t have assumed anything. He shouldn’t have made her doubt, no when Maggie was his priority. No when Maggie was the first thing on his list. No when he had no idea what would he do without Maggie sleeping by his side, resting her head on his shoulder or holding his hand as the planes took off.

That afternoon Michael decided to leave work for later simply because his girlfriend needed him. Even if he had too many things to do, he decided to forget he was coach Michael to be just her Mike as he promised again and again that he would never decide without talking to her first. But mostly Michael promised that whatever happens, he would always go back home to her. ‘You’ll never be alone, sweetheart’ were his exact words as he dried her tears and kissed her pink cheeks. They sealed the problem and their deal with a soft ‘She’ll be apples’ that ended up giving Maggie the next tattoo on her wrist, wanting to carry it on her skin as yet another reminder of their love but also their promises. She wanted to be able to read it and see it with the rest of their tattoos on her arm, just to be able to read it in the bad moments like those.  

All their problems seemed small after those two terrible days in their life. Nothing seemed as complicated as it could be, no when Michael was holding her hand. But even when it wasn’t that complicated, he was the one who thought it would be nice to take a weekend off, just the two of them away from everyone, even their family. Plus, there was nothing as good as taking those two days off while being in the USA.

Going to the States had always a special meaning for them. The flight was always filled with silly smiles and insisted jokes they would whisper in each other’s ears. It was dozens of memories of the first time they sat together in that plane and then even more memories of everything that happened in Los Angeles and Las Vegas. That was one of the reasons why Maggie liked to go to LA, and she was happy to be there with her family, especially considering this time they dragged David and Aoife with them. While Esmè and Andrè stayed back in Dublin with aunt Mimi, not wanting to slow down the kids on their free week, they all insisted David and Aoife needed some time off too, and none of them could say no to spend time with their kids considering how they could see them counted days a year. But the fact their parents were there was also the perfect excuse for them to have a weekend off, no worrying or taking turns to take care of Olivia. That's why Michael didn’t have to insist too much when he proposed to go to Vegas for the weekend and go back to LA on Monday. It took Maggie one second to say yes and then another to book a plane ticket and a hotel room, being nothing but excited about going back to the place where everything started for them.  

She was nothing but an overexcited kid all week knowing it was happening, but then it turned into nothing but overwhelming nostalgia as they got into the plane. Three years earlier she was also on a plane, fresh out of a breakup and convinced there was no way Michael was ever gonna look at her. Three years earlier she was absolutely convinced that snuggling by his side and holding his hand was everything she was going to be able to do, but then he let her use him as a pillow so she would be more comfortable. Then they almost kissed, then they kissed and they slept together and fucked up more so many times it was impossible to count. But there they were, three years later and making it work.

If twenty-five years old Maggie with an unbelievable crush on Michael knew what twenty-eight years old Maggie was living, she wouldn’t believe it. She would never believe she dared to grab him to go dance at that club, that they did everything they shouldn’t have done, but mostly she would have never believed that they went through hell and survived to be back together. She would have never believed they were so in love and living together in London. Not even the twenty-eight years old Maggie could believe she was so lucky, but there she was, holding his hand once again as the plane took off and landed.

It took a lot of effort from her to not cry as she looked out the window of the taxi that was taking them to their hotel. It took even more for her not to cry when she looked at Michael, who was looking back at her with nothing but love in his eyes as a lazy smile adorned his perfect face. She knew that was his little happy grin knowing everything was alright in the world. It was the smile that always said he didn’t need more than that. It was the hand squeeze and the kiss on his knuckles that let him know she didn’t need much either, but it was the little tear rolling on her cheek that told Michael that she was so happy that she was crying because of it.  

The afternoon was as happy as their morning arrival, but their night plans were Maggie’s favorite part of the whole trip. Michael had the wonderful idea to make reservations to go to the same restaurant they went to that first night they ended up together. He insisted there was no other place in Vegas that he rather go with her, and Maggie couldn’t agree more. They had the next day and the rest of their lives to go and try other places, but not that night.  

His plan was also what got her the wonderful idea of wearing a blue dress that night. The one she wore three years ago was carefully kept in their closet back in London, so she dragged Jas around LA with the excuse of having a girls’ day to find a new one. It took her ten stores, three hours, two coffees, and a stop at a tea shop, but they finally found it. They found it and it was gorgeous.

Maggie couldn’t erase the smile on her face as she looked at herself in the mirror of the shop the first time she tried the dress and the same happened when she tried it again in the bathroom of their hotel room. She was never one to compliment herself, but she looked good. She looked maybe even better than good. She knew the dress was gonna leave Michael’s jaw hanging and that’s exactly what she wanted. Maggie wanted to leave him dying to fuck her against the first wall or surface he could find while she was still wearing it. She wanted to leave him speechless and even more in love with her. She also knew he didn’t need any of that to love her, but she wanted to make that night special.

But even when Maggie knew she looked good, she was nervous about it. She was nervous about going out of the bathroom. She was feeling the same little butterflies she felt all those years ago, knowing she was dressing to impress him, hoping back then that she could finally make a move. But this time Maggie couldn’t help but smile even more, simply because the man on the other side of the door was all hers and she was all his. She smiled because the silly nerves had no reason at all but they were there anyway.

“Grà? Can you close your eyes?” Maggie called out, opening the door enough to pop her head out and look at him. And for a second she forgot what her plan was because there was Michael, looking like a dream wearing a black shirt as he did all those years ago, making her feel even more nervous. Clearly, she wasn’t the only one who had the idea of going back to their old outfits, which was nothing but hilarious. “And no, you can’t ask why. Just do it and don’t ruin the surprise”

“Oh, the desert air made her bossier. Are you gonna act like that later tonight too?” he asked with a silly smile on his face, buttoning up his shirt as he looked back at her.

“No if you don’t behave. Now close those pretty eyes of yours for me”

Holding his hands up as if he was surrounded, Michael finally obligated and closed his eyes for her. As soon as he did, Maggie stepped out of the bathroom, trying to be as sneaky as possible while walking on her tiptoes. Once she was finally in front of him, Maggie felt kind of silly. She had no idea why she asked him to close his eyes, but there she was, barefoot, wearing a blue dress, looking up at the man she loved. She couldn’t believe such beauty was all hers. She couldn’t believe he was her boyfriend and she couldn’t believe they were going on a date in Vegas after three years of everything starting there. She couldn’t believe that was her life, so for a second she forgot about the whole surprise thing and went straight to hug him, placing her hands on his back and a kiss on his chest as she rested her head right there.  

She felt his arms around her body and then a kiss on the top of her head and that was enough to make her forget about the dinner reservation and the plans they had. Suddenly there was nothing to do except be there in his arms focusing on his heartbeats. Suddenly all she wanted to do was order room service and wait for it in bed. She even wanted to leave the blue dress and his black shirt forgotten on the floor as they got lost in each other, but she knew none of that was happening when Michael moved his lips away from her hair. “Baby what- Holy shit, you’re wearing a blue dress?”

“Mmhm. I still gotta do my makeup and do something with my goddamn hair but I wanted to show you first. Problem is now I don’t wanna let you go” Maggie shrugged, hugging him a bit tighter as she placed yet another kiss on his chest.  

“Can I take a look at you?” Michael practically begged, moving his hands to rest them on her hips, stroking the blue material with his thumbs. And Maggie couldn’t say no even if she tried, so she finally took a step back, showing off her dress. The dark blue satin was hugging her body perfectly, just hanging from her shoulders gracefully thanks to the thin straps it has. It wasn’t short as the one she was wearing the night they started to see each other; this was just a midi length, but she knew what was going to kill him was the cowl neckline showing exactly what it needed to show. That and the ties on her back were going to be the death of him. Maggie knew it the second she saw the dress, that’s why she got it. That’s also why she decided to turn around, letting Michael see the whole thing.  

“You like it?” Maggie asked all shyly.  

“Like it? I love it. You look perfect. I mean, I prefer you naked, but you look breathtaking” he smiled, getting closer to kiss her before he kept talking. “You’re a fucking dream, sweetheart. You’re just- Fuck, I still can’t believe I’m so damn lucky to spend my life with you”  

Maggie couldn’t help but smile and blush like a schoolgirl at her boyfriend’s words. The way he was just smiling happy because of her was something that still surprised her. Not that she could blame him considering she was most of the time thunderstruck and tongue-tied thanks to everything he was and did, but she was still surprised in the best way. She knew perfectly fine how models and pretty girls in general were always around in the paddock and at the parties and tried to call their attention, but Michael would always say none of them could ever compete with her. Even after three years, Maggie was still surprised and happy because Michael chose her to spend their lives together. “I know, I know, you can hardly wait to put a ring on my finger. Don’t worry, babe, one day it’ll happen” she joked, patting his chest with both hands before she tried to go back to the bathroom to do her makeup.  

Or at least she intended to go to the bathroom and finally get ready, but Maggie couldn’t keep walking because Michael’s hand suddenly was holding hers, not letting her go far from him. “Why not now?” he asked looking down at her.

“That sounds a lot like a marriage proposal, sir” Maggie joked, smiling at him while she brought their joined hands to her lips, kissing his knuckles as she would do on every normal day.

The smile on Michael’s face was what told her that he wasn’t joking. The way he was looking at her was enough to let her know the question that left his lips was not a joke. He meant it. He meant every single word and he wanted to marry her. “Maybe it is. I had one last wish, remember? I used two so this is my last one. Marry me, Mags”  

She almost forgot about their joke. She almost forgot about that first wish and the kiss they shared hiding back at the farm. She almost forgot about his shiny eyes full of unshed tears as he begged her to go back to him as they decided to temporarily part ways that gloomy day in London. She almost forgot he still had one last wish in his pocket but never in her life had Maggie imagined that Michael’s last wish was gonna be that one.  

“Mike are you serious?” she asked in the softest voice, feeling the tears forming in her eyes before she could even realize what was happening. It was as if her brain couldn’t process what Michael was saying. She just couldn’t comprehend how after everything they went through; there he was proposing. There was no way she could be that lucky, so somehow her brain was saying it was nothing but impossible.  

But just when Maggie was about to ask again, Michael kissed her knuckles and smiled at her. “Dead serious, sunshine. Give me one second”. With a kiss on her forehead, Michael let her hand go, going straight to their suitcases on a side of the room. It was her basic instinct wanting to run to him, but instead she just sat on the bed, looking at every single one of his moves. It felt like a weird movie in slow motion, but from a bag from his suitcase he took a black box that Maggie was convinced was from some of his fitness equipment. Then she realized how damn smart he was because there was no way she would ever open any of that. There was no way she would ever touch his work equipment, and Michael knew it. Every time he got something new she would just ask for what it was and then would never touch it, too scared to somehow break it and ruin it. Not that she was interested or anything at all, but fear was the main reason why she wouldn’t fuck it up with some of those very fancy and very expensive things her boyfriend had. So every single time she saw that damn box between his things, Maggie never asked, she just ignored it, never imagining that from inside it there would emerge a small emerald green box. Her hands went automatically to her mouth the second she saw Michael walking to her with it in his hand and she couldn’t help but cry when he kneeled right in front of her, grabbing her hand with his to uncover her face. “I had this for a long time. I got it way before our break. I convinced myself maybe it was too soon back then. But then I told myself I was an idiot 'cause you’re the love of my life and it was the right thing to do. I tried to wait for the right moment, but I fucked up letting you go instead. I should’ve asked you this instead of asking you if you wanted time off from us. I know I fucked up that day, but I love you so much, sweetheart-”

“Hey, no, you didn’t fuck anything up” she interrupted him, holding his face between her hands so she could look straight into his eyes. “There’s no way you could ever ruin anything. You just make everything better. You make me better, and you know it, babe”  

“I love you more than anything in the world, do you know that?”  

“I know. I’d say I love you more but I’m not fighting you right now. I know you love me as much as I love you, so it’s perfect”

“Good, 'cause I mean it. I meant every single word every single time I said it. I’ve been in love with you since I first saw you in that video Dan sent me all those years ago. I love you and I’ll always love you cause there’s no way I could ever stop it. So, I’m gonna ask you again and in the right way cause that’s what you deserve. Margaret Byrne, my little sunshine, would you please marry me?”  

On any other normal day, Maggie would have stayed looking straight into his eyes, simply because she loved that shiny brown color with her whole heart. She loved it so much that she always joked saying she would get the code tattooed if she ever found the same color in the Pantone palette. But that night something distracted her from one of her favorite views, and that was Michael’s hands moving between them.    

Maggie looked down and suddenly there was the perfect ring inside the already pretty green box. Along a delicate silver band there were twelve small white diamonds and right in the center was the biggest and focal stone, which was a round cut diamond, exactly like she wanted it. It was perfect, it was everything she ever dreamed her engagement ring would be and what made it better was that Michael picked it up for her.  

But the best part wasn’t the ring, the best –and her favorite- part was her favorite hands holding it. Her favorite part was her favorite eyes shining full of love, happiness, hope, and illusion as they were fixed on her waiting for an answer. Her favorite part was the man of her dreams and the love of her life declaring his love for her and proposing to spend their life together. There was nothing she wanted more than that. There was nothing she wanted as badly as growing old with her big boy beside her. Damn, there was no other way she would want to do it, so that was going to be the easiest answer of her life.  

“I love you forever and more than anything in the world so yes, I’m marrying you” Maggie nodded as the smile on her face grew bigger while the tears kept streaming down her face.    

In three years they shared an uncountable amount of kisses. From some with nothing but lust and passion to some wet with tears and tinted with sadness, they kissed in every single possible way that existed. But that night they kissed and it was as if the universe proved to her once again she was nothing but wrong because nothing compared to that kiss. Nothing compared to the perfection of their lips sealing their new deal. Nothing compared to the sensation of kissing Michael that day. Nothing ever compared to the happiness of hugging and being held by her future husband while they tried to keep kissing between tears, giggles, and smiles. Nothing was as good as them together in every single possible way.  

It felt like a dream to see Michael taking the silver ring out of the box. It felt surreal to feel the cold metal as he put it on her ring, fitting perfectly because clearly, that man wasn’t going to fuck it up with the size. It felt like a damn fairytale to see the man she loved kissing her hand and the diamond ring over it, right before kissing her lips once again, making it impossible for Maggie to stop giggling.  

“Thank you for saying yes, sweetheart” he whispered against her lips, stroking her cheek with his free hand because Maggie wasn’t letting him go.    

“I should thank you for asking me, to be honest” she joked, kissing his lips once more before she looked down at their joined hands. “God, it's so fucking gorgeous. How can you be so handsome and good and sweet and smart and on top of that have good taste for engagement rings?”  

“I know what my wife likes” Michael shrugged, finally getting up from his place on the floor to sit on the bed right by her side, but instead, Maggie sat right on his lap. “I got it after you flew to Dublin during lockdown. It was the first night without you home. I was just sitting on the couch, fucking heartbroken, scrolling down Instagram while I waited for you to tell text me you were home and suddenly it was there looking at me. It was perfect so I had to get it cause I knew it was the right one for the right one. I’m just really sorry it took me so long to ask you”  

She could hear the little hint of sadness and melancholy when he mentioned that terrible day. Even her heart felt heavy when she remembered the tears, the sadness, the hugs, the goodbyes, the terrible flight, and then the first terrible night without Michael. She remembered perfectly the pressure on her chest and the desperation as she got inside her cold bed knowing perfectly fine Michael wasn’t going to join her. She remembered everything perfectly well, but she just decided to take a deep breath and just try to leave it all behind, especially in a happy moment like that. All she wanted to think about at that moment was them, their love, their happiness, and that gorgeous diamond that from that day lived in her left hand.  

“You did it and that’s it. Time doesn’t matter” she smiled, lacing their fingers together as she stroked his cheek and jaw with her free hand. “Damn, I’m gonna be your Mrs. Italiano” she giggled, still not believing what was happening.  

“You can pick the last name you want as long as you’re my wife” he smiled, moving his hand to her neck, stroking her skin with his thumb as he held her in place, keeping her near with his fingers tangled in her hair.  

His lips ghosting over hers got her whimpering in no time, leaving Maggie nothing but bewitched as she waited for his next move. Then his fingers running through her scalp got her moaning in such a way it was pathetic. Michael had her in the palm of his hand, and Maggie was nothing but ready to do whatever he asked. She was ready to comply and obey every single one of his words no matter how crazy or insane it was because that’s how in love she was with him. But then in a second of sanity, she remembered that they were supposed to go out. They had plans and reservations and now a reason to go out and celebrate, and she was still just wearing her dress and not even half ready. “I need to get ready, babe” she whispered against his lips.  

“Marry me” Michel repeated.  

“I already told you yes, babe”  

“I mean marry me tonight. Vegas is where everything started so why not?”  

Michael wasn’t joking. Maggie knew those eyes like the back of her hand, so she knew he was completely serious. He wanted them to marry that same night and God, how badly she wanted to say yes. There was nothing she wanted more, but for more than one reason it was a bad idea. “Cause I want a normal wedding. Beautiful, sunny Perth, our family, and friends, a cute white dress that would make you tear up cause you can’t believe how beautiful I look. Then I want you getting under that dress and even fucking me right there in some bathroom in the middle of the reception. Besides, we don’t have witnesses and we need two and-“  

She could have gone on and on with the reason, but she was cut by Michael and yet another kiss. But this time it wasn’t just softness, this was nothing but love and need and passion, and Maggie couldn’t help but moan as their tongues moved together. She needed to go get ready but she couldn’t help but move on his lap and place both her knees on side of his, getting their bodies as close as possible. They needed to go, but there was nothing she wanted more than to take his shirt off his body and beg him to fuck her right there and then. Instead, Maggie kept her hands on his neck and back, trying to hold onto something. She needed to hold onto something to not think about how Michael wanted to elope, how he was touching her legs and ass under her dress, how hard he was, and especially how wet she was.  

“Marry me” Michael insisted, smirking at her, knowing that evil grin and his fingers running around her skin would convince her in no time. And to make it even worse, he moved from her lips to her neck, leaving a trail of kisses all over her jaw until he reached the spot he wanted. “Just say yes. We go get dinner and then we get married. Just you and me. We said fuck the rest, so fuck ‘em”  

“I know you’re stubborn but please don’t be stubborn now. Remember our first night together? I told you Jas was gonna kill us for sleeping together and you told me it wasn’t as bad as eloping so let’s not fuck it up doing it. I love you and I really wanna marry you yesterday, but I don’t want everyone getting mad at us again, grá” Maggie explained, using the last sign of logic she had in her brain, even when Michael was doing a beautiful job turning her insane between kisses, licks, and bites on her neck.  

And to make it even worse, she could feel him smiling against her skin as he moved one strap slowly off her shoulder. “I said that? What an idiot. I should’ve asked you to marry me that night instead of saying something so stupid”  

“Too late for that. Besides I’m already your fiancé so there’s no point in regretting what we didn’t do, or that’s what a smart man told me more than once” Maggie smirked, too proud to be using his own words against him.  

“Did your fiancé tell you that he can make a call and move the dinner reservations to a bit later?” Michael asked, moving the other strap off her shoulder, letting her dress fall from her chest.  

And while it happened, Maggie didn’t even try to cover herself, she just let it happen as she moved her hands between them, first unbuttoning the first two buttons of his shirt and then letting her fingers wander down to his pants. “I mean, I saw him doing magic before, so I wouldn’t be surprised” she shrugged, moving just enough to deal with the zipper and the single button that was getting in the way of what she really wanted.  

“Good, 'cause I wanna see what my future wife’s wearing under this pretty dress” Michael affirmed, finally getting rid of her dress to leave it forgotten somewhere on the floor.

---

Taglist

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[brilliantfantasticgeronimo]

dw rewatch - takes on "the end of the world"

companion watch:

"the artic desert" hits different lol

something something bella vs the witch

rose's fear attack when she finds heres lf in the alien situation. she's genuinely terrified! it's a good beat, man. more than that, it's a rare beat. I get a lot of people don't vibe with it and prefer the more "buffy-esque approach, since it's "more to the point" and gets you larger than life figures… but personally I much prefer it when scifi/fantasy scenarios are portrayed as the terrifying reality they would be. also this: "ROSE: I just hitched a ride with a man. I don't even know who he is. He's a complete stranger"

war of the world vibes with the little robot fellas. /unintentional parallel to how cassandra dies and how the aliens in that book die?

"it gets inside and changes my mind, and you didnt even ask" "i didnt think about it like that" it's interesting that rose question this tbh

"five billion years in the future, my mum's dead" "bundle of laughs you are" /god i love this exchange. nine's constant attempt to downplay ANY surfacing of Real Emotions. rose's naivety in contemplating for the first time in her life that oh yeah, people die. the first statement of the "everything dies, everything ends" theme that will be woven throughout all the rtd era.

ngl i wish rose Did More in the plot of this episode, in terms of actually solving the crisis, feels like a stepdown after Rose giving her the most climatic moment... that said she does get a lot of great quibs in this one: "you two go pollinate and i'll go meet the family"/ "and i want you home by midnight!"/ "its better to die than to live like you, a bitchy trampoline" / "youre just lipstick and skin"

she's really similar to nine/ten in that aspect. they both have that "humor as defense mechanism" thing

blorbos:

the way nine and rose Lean in those stairs…. im Looking respectfully and im Thinking pure thoughts. (honestly ppl talk a lot about ten and rose's body language in s2 but there was A Lot going on with nine and rose as early as episode 1)

"all that counts is here and now" can't tell if zen mindfulness or a desperate defense mechanism to cope with ptsd.

first thing rose does is call her mum ): - Cassandra "I'm too young" vs Ten's "I was going to do so much more"...(ben wyatt voice) it's about the hypocrisy (oh having written this note before rewatching new earth... put a pin on that!)

timeless child retroactive continuity bonus: perhaps cassandra as "the last human" (not really a "human") paralleling "the last timelord" (not really a "timelord)? - "JABE: And what about your ancestry, Doctor? Perhaps you could tell a story or two. Perhaps a man only enjoys trouble when there's nothing else left". well post-s13 they're gonna enjoy themselves a lot more lol - there's something very anti-entropy about how the child gets to regenerate indefinitely without "losing" its essence and its dna integrity (vs cassandra's "flatness", the child gains more and more complexity as time passes).

colonialism/hegemony: - NINE: "mind you, when I say "the great and the good" what I mean is the rich." / "Five billion years and it still comes down to money" / this maybe be harsh,,, honestly i hate to say but doctor who sometimes really is just typical neolib """anti-capitalist""" fiction. - in the sense that it pretends to be anti-capitalist, but really is just capitalist realist. it's writers can imagine 203223 scenarios of the earth dying but they cannot conceive of a post-capitalist world, a classless society or simply a world without taxes. Of course you could say "this is so these stories are relatable" but even in their relatedness, there's rarely a portrayal of the anti-capitalist struggle (rather than just generic star wars-style, ideology-less "rebellions).- (that said, obligatory "I'm not a politics robot" disclaimer... "Do you think it's cheap, looking like this? Flatness costs a fortune." is an iconic retort lol) - there's also a kind of subtle Myth Of The Linear Progress Of History thing going on with cassandra being framed as someone who "stayed behind" and has not embraced this analogue to our "Color Blind Post Racial Society" which has "Obviously" outgrown prejudice and notions of racial purity. - "good thing i didn't take you to the deep south" / "you were to busy making cheap shots about the deep south" // parallels to-> "who do you think makes your clothes?" "Is that why you travel 'round with a human at your side? It's not so you can show them the wonders of the universe, it's so you can take cheap shots?" "sorry" . actually no rtd i dont think these are chepashots at all lol they are VERY relevant shots!! it's very transparent how the writers are kind of meek about making these *truly* transgressive points, but it's much easier to have the doctor argue that rose having a donor card is "a different morality"... again one is truly transgressive, the other is fun-but-no-challenging-of-the-hegemony scifi "dilemma". - the "quick word with Michael Jackson" line is doing A Lot but idek how to even begin to entangle it lol it's very 00s, for sure. - for once, a self aware one: "People have died, Cassandra. You murdered them." / "It depends on your definition of people, and that's enough of a technicality to keep your lawyers dizzy for centuries"

themes: - everything has its time and everything ends check your bingo cards. racial purity vs mixing vs 'progress'. class. life cycles. gut instinct (rose jumping the gun to empatise w/ the doc + nine going through the fans + rose reaction to the alien parade). destruction as tourism, as "artistic event" (an uncomfortable parallel to how this is what our heroes will be doing for the next 10+ seasons). - this episode does a bit of a u-turn on the previous (And the next) on its constant questioning of the intrinsic "meaning" of a physical body. in this, cassandra's continuous operations are framed as a kind of "lost of an essence". also the "surface" of her thinking as metaphor for her missing the "essence" of what it means to be human (biologically but more fundamentally, ethically).

Live Fast Die Young / YOLO / everyone deserves to be mourned. everyone deserves a dignified death. thread carefully and cherish life, because it will all be gone. our time is limited and short and it is because it is short that it means something. Life only means anything because there's Death.

ecology and environmentalism. "there are many species in that planet. mankind is only one / I'm a direct descendant of the tropical rainforest." obsessed with it. wish they brought back the rainforest.