#my sibling spoke to her at a con a few months ago + it turns out she used to come to our home town for holidays as a kid

[lesbiangracehanson]

at a comic con in london today + went to see marina sirtis do a Q&A + her actual voice is sooo like home to me

[zoropookie]

HELLO! I went to the fair and idk if I ever spoke on here about seeing my ex (that word feels rude we’re on good terms, we just don’t talk like it was a complete healthy relationship!) at a con where I met Scara/Childes Vas BUT I DID SEE HIM THERR AND HE THOUGHT I WAS STALKING HIM AND HE BLOCKED ME ONCE HE FOUND OUT I WAS GOING

(LITTERALLY HAVE NOT SPOKEN TO HIM SINCE DECEMBER AND WENT TO THE CON A MONTH AGO-)

ANYWAY. I was Walking with my friend after being at the fair which was SUPER FUN I’m going again! Just not worth $35 for a ride pass wristband and I went on one ride and my friend lost her phone.. it was a toddler ride to..

But anyway! After like 4 hours at the fair I saw his sibling in a ride line the same one my friends were just on and I walked right passed and in that one second I saw them I went “yup. That’s them” SO TURNS OUT UE WAS ALSO AT THE FAIR I JUST ONLY SAW HIS SIBLING. Did they see me IDKK

ANYWAY ITS FUNNY BC HE THOUGHT I WAS STALKIBG HIM AND NOW HES SHOWING UP TO WHERE I WAS SO SO WHOS STALKING NOW/J

i think i remember hearing about something like this a few months ago?? idk maybe it's a very small town you're in and all the events everyone wants to go to are just really popular? it's a little ironic that he's claiming that you're the one stalking him, i also don't know the full story either

[wiypt-writes]

Murder, He Wrote

Part 7

Summary: Ransom makes good on his promise and your parents arrive for dinner. But then, you discover something that brings your entire world shattering down around you once more…

Warnings: Bad language words. MATURE (NSFW 18+) NON-CON situation, kidnap and violence. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THOSE TRIGGER… READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!

Pairing: DARK! Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N:  So here it is, the last chapter to this series! I can’t believe all this spun from @jtargaryen18​‘s Halloween challenge last year, and here we are 6 months later! Of course, I’d love to thank my writing partner from the earlier chapters, but sadly she’s no longer on Tumblr. Without her none of this would have been possible. I love you SG wherever you are. Thank you to everyone who has read and engaged so far and I hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as I’ve enjoyed writing. The Epilogue will follow next week and trust me, you do NOT want to miss that!!

In this, the reader has a sister, however feel free to interpret the Y/S/N element as sibling instead, if that appeals to you.

Word Count: 8.5k (I’m sorry I don’t do short fics, really I am!!)

READ THE WARNINGS!!!! This is a DARK Series… don’t @ me if you can’t follow simple instructions and end up with butt-hurt. And if you’re under 18…get off my blog.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and by writing it does NOT mean I agree with or condone the acts contained within. This fiction is classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Murder, He Wrote Masterlist // Main Masterlist.

Part 6

 “Will you relax?” Ransom drawled from where he sat, sprawled back on the sofa in the main lounge of the house, his denim clad legs crossed at the ankles, his black cashmere sweater torso melting against the cushions. “It’s just your parents, what’s the big deal?” You weighed your reply but instead smiled, he couldn't possibly understand. He wouldn't. "Let me just have this moment, please." He looked at you, his eyebrow arched before he scoffed, “whatever, Sweetheart. But if you’re gonna keep pacing up and down, can you do it in the hallway? The wood flooring is a lot more hardwearing.” With a roll of your eyes you left the lounge, wringing your hands together. This was the first time in months you'd be seeing your parents and it wasn't lost on you the charade you'd have to keep up despite wanting to somehow plea for a rescue. It was also worrying how they were going to react. Especially following the call you’d made a week or so ago, just before New Year’s Eve.

When you’d dialled the number you knew off by heart, your mother had answered. And upon hearing your voice she had shrieked and then the line had gone quiet until your father had spoken your name with a trembling voice. You’d been unable to answer straight away, your own voice catching, before a sob had burst from your throat and the tears had poured down your face. You’d managed a few, choked words of apologies until Ransom had pushed himself up from the seat he had been perched in, silently observing. He curled his arm over your shoulder, giving you a squeeze as you composed yourself. Eventually, you’d managed to calm yourself down and thankfully your dad hadn’t asked too many questions but had accepted your invite to dinner.

And now, here you were, nervously awaiting their arrival.

It wasn’t lost on you that, in their eyes, the fact you had cut them off was your decision, not forced on you by the man you were now sharing a bed with. And that was your other worry, you had no idea how he was going to behave. If Ransom showed your family the same contempt he displayed to his own, your dad wasn’t the type of man who would stand for it. And then what? But you had zero time to think on it as the doorbell rang. Your heart leapt to your throat and your stomach turned acidic. Ransom poked his head out of the lounge and looked at you expectantly, like you were to answer. Adjusting your sweater dress for the millionth time, you walked to the front door and reached for the knob with a shaky hand. You steeled your nerves and blinked hard to dissipate the tears, and opened the door. For the first time in months you looked back into the familiar eyes of your parents. Your mom’s face was pinched, as if she was chewing the inside of her cheeks and as you glanced to your dad you already noticed the daggers he was shooting at the man behind you. To anyone else it would be enough to make them quake in their shoes, but not Ransom. “Mom, Dad.” Your voice sounded alien as you spoke quietly, your fingers grabbing at the bottom of your sleeves as one of Ransom’s hands curled over your shoulder. "Y/N," your dad replied, and the awkwardness officially set in.

"Aren't you going to invite them in, Sweetheart?" Ransom's voice made you jump a bit.

"Yes, please, come in," you stepped aside for them to enter. "Welcome to, erm, our home."

Calling it that felt all sorts of wrong, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it. Besides, it wasn’t like you could call it what it was, your prison. Your father stepped inside followed by your mother, the foyer now feeling a little crowded. Your mother was quick to pull you in for a hug. But it was brief and not the way she used to hug you, no, this hug felt like it came from a stranger. Your dad’s embrace, however, was everything you remembered. Safety, strength and love and you felt yourself melt into his arms, choking back a sob as you pressed your face into his chest. "We appreciate you coming to dinner," Ransom spoke, breaking the embrace you shared with your father. "It's nice to finally meet you both. I'm Ransom." Your dad looked at you as you nodded, wiping the tears from your eyes as he looked to Ransom. “We know who you are. With the news, the papers and Y/N's article, we've probably become more acquainted than you're aware.” He spoke calmly but cooly, gripping Ransom’s outstretched hand with a less than friendly shake, one that would make a lesser man wince. Instead, you saw what you thought was a flicker of amusement on Ransom's face before your dad released his hand and you introduced your mother. She didn’t offer her hand. Instead she gave a sniff and took a deep breath, getting straight to the point as she always did. “Well, this is all very nice and everything but what the hell do you think you’re playing at, Y/N? You disappeared with no trace, we thought you were dead, and then we find out you're not. Instead you’re, with him, choosing not to contact us or speak to us? Forgive me for the brash and abrupt approach, but before we sit down for dinner, we deserve some answers.” Her voice gathered pace and volume as she continued to rail at you, telling you how worried and sick the entire family had been, how thanksgiving and Christmas without you had been awful and whatever else she had on her mind as she spewed her words at you, her face an eyes blazing with anger. You felt sick, never had you meant for any of this to happen, clearly. And you'd secretly hoped Ransom would have seen the devastation he'd caused by his actions, however you knew that was an ill-fated hope just as well. You struggled to speak, the words jumbling around in your head and your mouth bone dry. "I'm so sorry," Ransom sighed. "Why don't we come into the lounge and have a drink or two and we can talk all about it? I know that Y/N was looking forward to your visit and clearing the air."

He looked at you as he ushered towards the lounge, a hidden smugness to his face that only you could detect. He thought he'd just played the hero, the prince saving his distressed princess. “Good idea,” your dad nodded, his hand gently on the base of your mother’s spine, “come on, Honey.” “Straight down, second on your right.” Ransom informed as your parents headed off a little ahead of you.

“Now, remember, what you tell them has to match what you said to Blanc.” Ransom took your hand in his and spoke quietly as you both began to follow your parents. “I. Know.” You grit though your teeth and jerked your hand free of his. He stopped dead and turned to face you, and for the first time ever you saw something akin to fear on his face, you were resisting that much anger. “Y/N...” he started but you shook your head. “You have no idea how much you’ve hurt them or me do you? That or you simply still don’t care.” You hissed before you took a deep breath and drew yourself up tall. “But, we’ll just go in there, spin a load of more lies and that’s it, all done isn’t it?” He blinked before his jaw set and he shook his head. “I’m warning you...” “What else is new?” You sighed. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything and I’ll still be here when they leave.” You stepped a pace or two in front of him and entered the lounge. Your parents were sitting on the couch you'd become very familiar with while Ransom moved straight for the drink cart. "Mr. Y/L/N, can I interest you in a top shelf scotch?" "Mom," you said softly as the conversation between your dad and Ransom faded out, "Ransom and I have a great white wine if you'd like or..." "Scotch is fine," she interrupted you, a stone cold look to her disappointed face. Ransom served the drinks, handing you your preferred wine with a kiss to your head. You watched how your parents interacted with him, the way your father watched every calculated step, the way your mother shot daggers in the two of you as you sat opposite them on the love seat. You leaned forward so as to move a bit away from Ransom, however, he was quick to put his arm over the back of the love seat, his hand able to still touch you. “So, erm, how’s....” “Your sister? Nanna? Granddad? Who would you like to start with?” Your mom took a sip of her drink and you dropped your eyes, your gaze focussed on your hands as they rubbed together. 

"I'm sorry, okay?” You stuttered, shaking your head. “I know you’re angry and upset and you have every right to be but... I didn’t do any of this on purpose.” “That detective man, Blanc, and the police... they said you didn’t want us to know where you were...” “I didn’t.” You choked on the lie a little. “My head was a mess and...” you sniffed as you felt Ransom’s fingers graze the skin on the back of your neck as you looked at your mom. “Mom, please, please don't make tonight continue with vicious jabs and vile glares. I'm sorry, to you, to everyone. I was...." you stopped and centred yourself. "I was lost and I didn't know what to do." "Why don't we just get this out of the way then maybe we can move on with our evening?" Ransom suggested and your father nodded in shocking agreement. "Let's let her explain, Dear. She said she made a mistake and there were good reasons she couldn't come to us, I'm sure. Let's just hear her out." Your father was always the more sensible one. You mother took a shaky breath and looked at you and you swallowed before you started to talk, the lie you had rehearsed in your head slipping from your lips. “I erm, I was having a bit of trouble at work and everything just got too much and... well, I don’t know what happened, a breakdown or whatever,” you took a deep breath, “I just needed to get away, from everything.” “Including us?” Your mom asked and you shook your head. “I wasn’t thinking straight, I just...” "You know, it doesn’t matter what you say to explain because frankly, I won't understand but I do hope that you never have to experience what we went through. Ever." She deadpanned. "I do believe that is my fault, Mrs. Y/L/N. I encouraged her approach and didn't discourage the fact that she wasn't contacting you or anyone she was close with." Ransom sighed, feigning concern for your parents.

You knew what he was doing, the Master Manipulator was coming out in him and you knew there was no going back, no. It was as if Ransom said 'challenge accepted' in winning your parents over. Just, so you assumed, the night would end and you'd be happy in his arms and they'd never think twice about your brief disappearance again. “We hadn’t been seeing each other that long, and my reputation isn’t the greatest. But I should have put my own concerns aside and seen that the way we were going about things was wrong and I should have insisted she reached out. You see, me and my family aren’t close and I sometimes forget that we’re the ones that aren’t normal.” "We hadn't known she was seeing anyone," your mum stated. She was out with her claws, not going to let Ransom nor you off so easily.

"Well, I'm not like Y/S/N, Mom. I don't just bring home whomever I'm taking to bed that month." You'd said it before you could stop it. Never had you said something like that before about your sister, nor spoken to your mother like that. And you didn't miss the twitch of a smirk to the corner of Ransom's lips, telling you he was a bit proud. Surely, you didn't want him to be rubbing off on you in that way. "I'm sorry, that wasn't how I meant it. I just knew I had to be more careful in sharing everything. Like he said, he's not got the best rap, but, after my interview on him, well I guess I just found him intriguing and-“ “Ah, yes," your father now spoke up, cutting you off, “the smear and redact. Believe me, Ransom, we're very familiar with your reputation and our daughter's initial thoughts on you. Which is why you can see how we were a little surprised, once the initial shock of her supposed death wore off, that the two of you were... together." “I understand.” Ransom nodded. “And I would feel the same in your shoes. But, well, I guess after the interview things just kind of spiralled from there. I don’t really know how it happened myself, to be honest, I’m just glad it did.” As if he was sealing the deal, he leaned toward you and pressed his lips to your temple. You sighed and gave him a smile. This bastard was smug enough to start shifting the tone in the room with a metaphorical snap of his fucking fingers and you watched it work on your parents. The ice slowly melting away, the glacial peak softening around your mother. And then the metaphorical snap became a real one as he moved his arm from round you, clicked the fingers of both hands and then slapped his left palm with the underside of his right fist with a flourish as he flashed a smile round the room. “Okay, so....who’s hungry?”

Your parents both raised their eyebrows and as your mom looked at your dad, you saw him shake his head ever so slightly and she took a deep breath, before she turned back to Ransom and you, a small smile on her face. “Dinner sounds great.” "Sweetheart, after you," Ransom politely shifted to the side so you could rise and lead the way. He turned back to your parents, "we wanted to make sure we were able to spend as much time together without the chore of preparing and cleaning up after so we had dinner brought in. Y/N had it all set just before you arrived." You shot him a glare as you moved by him, your mother and father behind you, Ransom pulling up the rear. Sure enough, still warm and catered were four place settings at the table in the large dining room across and down a bit from the lounge. Your parents sat down across the table from where you and Ransom stood, silver dome lids obscuring your eyeline as you sat. Oddly, you'd never eaten in the dining room before. It was your room in the basement, the kitchen table or the coffee table in the lounge. Red wine and cutlery were already set along with water. Your parents and Ransom set their scotch glasses near the wine. Your dad arched an eyebrow at the ostentatious nature of it all and you caught his gaze as he gave you a kneeling smirk. With a laugh, you realized that someone should at least remove the lids, and since you were the host, you rose from your chair and bent over the table a little, reaching for the knobs of their domes. You stacked them together and sat back down, pulling yours and Ransom's as you went.

As you settled down to eat, your parents both complimented the food before a little silence fell as you all ate, the occasional clanking of cutlery against the porcelain plates ringing out across the large room. Ransom made a few comments here and there about the food from the company you’d ordered from being good, as usual, your parents agreeing before a light conversation struck up about the holidays and various other mundane topics, all as if you were close and the conversation prior hadn't happened. Like it was a regular Sunday family dinner. All the time, you spotted your parents growing more and more comfortable with the situation, and you felt yourself relax a little, hoping and praying that things would keep amicable.

And then, after another spell of silence you heard your mother clear her throat. "So, Ransom, what is you do? I never gathered that from…well, from…” she trailed off and Ransom took a dep breath. “To be honest with you, Mrs. Y/L/N, not a great deal until recently. Just another way Y/N managed to help me change my life around." He looked at you with appreciation. "She made me see that living my life riding off people’s coat tails wasn’t really anything to be proud of.” He paused to take a sip of his scotch before he cut another piece of his steak. “Now I’m writing. I have a couple of things on the go and a few from my grandfather that he never finished so, hopefully, they’ll take off.” This bastard! You could not believe the bullshit that so easily sprang from his mouth. It was fascinating and yet absolutely disgusting at once. You found yourself convinced, and not for the first time, that he actually believed the shit he talked. "What's your book about, if you don’t mind me asking?" You father queried, after swallowing down his steak with his wine, saving his scotch for after. “Not at all,” Ransom swallowed his food. “Another area I’ve taken inspiration from, it’s based on a private detective.” He gave a chuckle. “I’ll be handing out a lot of royalties and dedications at this rate.” "Just a private detective?" You pressed, having wondered yourself as he'd told you once before you were an inspiration. He looked at you, smirking a little. “I’ve told you, Princess, I’ll let you read it when the first draft is done.”

Your father eyed you as Ransom spoke of pet names and inspirations. Your eyes flitted away from his gaze, entertaining Ransom's portion of the conversation but you found them quickly fluttering back to those kind eyes that matched yours. At that point, your dad shot you a sweet father-like wink before clearing his throat and speaking.  "So, let's not beat around the obvious, this is awkward." He paused to emphasize his point. "I'll just come right out with it. What could your future intentions be with my daughter?"

"Jesus Christ, Dad!" You surely hadn't seen that coming.  Ransom blinked a little before he cleared his throat. “I’ll keep her as long as I can, Sir.”

At that, his hand curled over your knee, giving a gentle squeeze and you took a deep breath, drawing your back up straight as his hand gently started to trail further up towards your thigh, fingers still hot on your skin through the layer of your thick tights. You cleared your throat, and moved a little, and Ransom removed his hand, a smirk blatantly evident on his face.

“Good to know.” Your dad reached for his wine again, a teasing smile on his face. “I mean the lease has gone on her apartment now and we turned her room into a gym the moment she moved out.”

“Oh purlease!” Your mom scoffed, “a gym. By that he means he has a rowing machine and a bunch of weights that serve as nothing more than expensive door stops.”

At that Ransom gave a full belly laugh, his head tipping back with just the right amount of humour. Not too much to appear fake, but enough to seem like the exchange had genuinely amused him. He almost had you fooled too.

Bastard.

The rest of the dinner past with fairly amicable chat, the ice well and truly broken. Ransom and your father struck up a pleasant conversation about football and then baseball, Ransom confessing that he hadn’t been following either sport much recently but also nodding when your dad suggested that perhaps they could catch a game sometime soon, in a bar. At that you had smirked into your glass, as you knew the thought of going to a place surrounded by a load of loud, drunken members of the public would be Ransom’s idea of hell. The idea that he might just have to follow through on your promise amused you, a lot.

Eventually, your parents both announced that they should be going, and the warmth and happiness that had descended on you began to slowly seep away as you hugged them both good bye. As they headed down to their car, you stifled down a sob as you waved them away, realising you had no idea when you’d be seeing them again. That was on Ransom, for him to decide when and if you deserved it.

But, you’d played his game. You’d behaved. He said he wanted you to trust him, to be content with him. Surely, he would realise that this was the happiest you’d been since he snatched you, and if you continued to behave then he would have no reason to keep you from seeing them for so long again.

With a sigh you turn away from the door and step back inside, Ransom just behind you. You stopped and waited for him to close the door and lock it. He gave you a little twitch of a smile. 

“Well, that wasn’t as painful as I expected.”

You rolled your eyes.

"You were great, Sweetheart."

"Yeah, well, you won them over. I doubt they suspected anything by the time they left." Your words didn't cut him, they cut you. You cleared your throat and shook your head, "anyway, I'm going to go clean up. I'll meet you upstairs."

"What, no 'thank you'?" He piqued.

You turned back to him, "Thank you, Ransom. For allowing my parents to come over."

“That wouldn’t be sarcasm, now would it?” He arched a brow, his arms folding across his chest.

"Oh, no, not at all," you overly pouted, stepping up to him, running your hands over his chest to seal your own sarcastic ploy.

His hands were quick to grab your wrists and oddly there was an air of excitement to your eyes.

“What on earth is there to possibly be sarcastic about?” You continued and he scoffed.

“It’s a good thing I kinda like your sass.”

You simply quirk your eyebrows and give a small shrug before attempting to turn away. However, Ransom still had a hold of your wrists and he kept you rooted near by.

“Ransom, what...”

“Leave the dishes, the maid comes tomorrow. I pay her enough, she can deal with it.”

You scoffed, “you’re such an asshole.”

"Come to bed with me," he asked more than suggested.

Since your little tryst in his precious car a week ago, he'd been far more touchy-feely, needy even. And in your eyes, Ransom Drysdale didn't do needy. However, this neediness served a purpose. You were able to keep him soft in all but one place, manipulating his needs for your own.

“You want me to come to bed with you?” You playfully quipped, cocking your head to one side.

“You want me to beg or something, Y/N?” His voice lowered as he narrowed his eyes. “Because I can make it a demand not a request.”

“Not beg, no.” You ignored his threat. “But a please wouldn’t go amiss.”

His controlling hands moved your arms around his neck before they fell away to your waist. His forehead bent into yours and his nose brushed against the tip of your own. "Please, come to bed with me, baby," he whispered against you.

You were smirking inside as his lips met yours in a deep kiss, his tongue gently flicking through your lips and sliding against yours. 

“Since you asked so nicely.”

It was a quick swoop, one that completely caught you off guard as he pulled you off your feet, his arm around your back while the other was hooked under your legs. His lips were on yours as he carried you to the staircase, not ever missing a beat or step, his tongue gliding over yours as he walked.

You didn't know how the two of you had made it up to your bedroom, and without incident but, the next thing you knew, you were led flat over your bed, his body caging you in.

“You said I did well.” You looked at him and he blinked, his brow furrowing a little. “How well?”

Silently as you waited, hoping he would take the bait.

And he did.

“Very well.” his eyes searched yours and you bit your lip.

“Well enough for me to see them again?”

"If you want, maybe lunch with your mother," he answered, kissing over your jaw and down your neck between each phrase.

You stilled, shock hitting your system and just how easily he had offered that up, you hadn’t even had to try. Noticing your change in body language Ransom paused and looked at you. “What? Don’t you want to?”

“No, I mean yes, of course I do. I just wasn’t expecting you to say that. I mean...” you stopped yourself short of saying what you had been about to, that you were his damned prisoner and until a week or so ago hadn’t left the grounds at all in months. You swallowed as Ransom sighed.

"Trust, remember, baby," he leaned back on his knees between your legs. "Call her in a couple of days, set up lunch."

“And you trust me to do that?” You swallowed. “No stupid tricks or mind games?”

"I won't be far behind." There it was, the stipulation. That silent warning heeding a tone left unsaid. “That said, I’m kinda hoping we’re past the point of me having to remind you about certain things to make you come back.”

"I understand."

Ransom shook his head, licking his lips. “No, I don’t think you do.” 

There was a tone of sadness almost to his voice and you watched him, his eyes locked onto yours and then you understood.

This went right back to the core of all this. He wanted you to want to come back. Not to simply do it because you have to. It was the ever present chink in his armour, the one thing you’d been able to exploit.

And, if you were being totally honest, could more than likely learn to live with the situation if you could have some kind of grasp and control, because that’s what this was about. That ever present power struggle and desperation he has within him to be more than people simply assumed him to be.

In a twisted way, you were almost proud to see the difference in his behaviour over the last few months was insurmountable. Whether that was directly down to you or not, you couldn’t be sure, but something had made him tap into that part of himself that could show reasonableness, rationality and, dare you suggest it, compassion.

Whilst you knew you’d never forget how he had taken you, against your will, or the pain and violence he had inflicted upon your body, maybe, in time, you could forgive. 

Because he simply hadn’t known any better.

"I'm not going anywhere," you spoke softly, sitting up to caress his cheek. His evening stubble scratched at your palm.

His eyes squinted shut, holding back an emotional response to her promise. There was so much he wanted to say but he couldn't. He physically could not bring the words out from his throat. So he did what he had always done, or thought he could, and that was to show her. Show her what he wanted to say. His lips pressed into the palm of her hand and as her fingers rubbed along his ear and behind his head, his lips travelled the length of the soft skin of her forearm until he pressed a delicate kiss to the crook of her elbow.

Turning his head, he caught her lips in a soft kiss which grew deeper as he pressed his body into hers, grinding his hardness against her groin. He felt the exhale from her nose against his cheek as his tongue muted the groan from her throat. His free hand skated up her thigh, to the hem of her sweater dress, bunching it in his fist. At that point, her hand gently wrapped around his wrist and he stopped, pulling away to look at her, his brow creased in puzzlement.

“Let me.” She whispered.

He swallowed hard and gave a short nod. She sat up and he leant back as she did, her hand against his chest, guiding him how she wanted him. As her hands fiddled with his flies, his eyes never left hers. When she tugged on the waistband of his jeans, he raised his hips slightly to allow her to pull them down, taking his boxers with them and he gave a slight sigh at the relief his rock hard dick was now free from it’s constraints.

“Feel good?” She smirked at the sound he made.

He nodded, “yes”, his voice gruff and gravelly.

No sooner had she said it, she’d taken him in her mouth. Instinctively, he bucked upwards, his hands settling in her hair, head falling back against the pillow as he hissed.

When his hips rutted upwards a second time, she moved back, releasing him with a pop and he glanced down at her, his face full of frustration but she simply smirked at him.

“Stop moving." 

The control of the situation wasn't his, it was hers and he was fully aware of it as she changed her pace, quick-quick-slow and if he squirmed she stopped.

A roll of his balls between her hand made him shudder. “Jesus Christ,” he groaned, “fuck, Y/N!”

She responded by taking him to the back of her throat, and the noise that came from his was halfway between a growl and a whimper as it stumbled from his mouth.

On and on this went, and every time she brought him to the edge and he couldn’t control his movements she stopped. It was a delicious torture, but one he was fast reaching his limit with.

“Fuck, baby, I…” his hands raked through her hair as she bobbed up and down on his shaft, her tongue pressing against the thick vein on the underside of his cock. He moaned loudly, “I gotta…”

"No," she purred, kitten licking the slit in his head, the precum dripping onto her tongue. Her lips enclosed over him again, short bobs until she was making long strides at deep throating him. 

She squealed as his hands tightened around her hair, squeezing at the strands to pull her back but she kept her pace, his hips giving way to a violent thrust to the back of her throat as he came hard, his spend shooting deep, coating her inside. His chest heaved as he came down from his high, not letting up on his grip until he was done trembling in euphoria. 

Then in a beat he flipped her to her back and hand his hands over the waistband of her tights, "that wasn't smart, Sweetheart," he growled. 

His eyes flashed in challenge as she giggled and whispered, "I thought it was." 

The force of him tearing her tights as he pulled them away from her legs bothered neither of them, her thin panties soaked and leaving a wet trail down her leg as he removed them, had him salivating. 

"You think it's funny? I'm gonna see how you like it," he challenged. 

Ransom wasted no time in taking a fast swipe at her leaking cunt with his tongue and Y/N cried out as he flicked the tip of his tongue over her swollen and throbbing clit. Her hands went straight to his hair, her knees practically boxing his ears as she curled her body towards his ample assault. 

His long arm slid up her body, over her tummy between her beasts as his splayed his fingers open across her skin, trying to press her back into the mattress. As she complied, she gave a gripping tug to his longer locks and Ransom emitted an elicit growl against her pussy. 

"Jesus Christ," she cried out, the sound sweet in his ears. 

"You taste so fucking good, baby," he spoke against just above her mounded flesh, whilst his fingers sought a wet refuge. He wasted no time in sliding two in, middle and ring fingers, slipping in a first, then second knuckle deep then scissoring inside her until they were all the way in. 

His lips curled around her clit as hers had done to his head, humming over the bud of pleasure, a pressure she nearly exploded over. 

"Oh, no, you don't get to do that yet," he stated firmly. The command made her twitch under him, her breath audibly hitching in her chest. "You're gonna cum on my cock as I fill that pussy up."

"Fuck, Ransom, please," she begged. 

"It's not funny now is it?" He slipped away from her body, sitting back on his heels and removed his own sweater. "Get naked, Princess."

He watched as she struggled to strip of the heavy sweater dress she wore, a stark difference to the fearful prize he had to himself months ago. Now she was his and he loved every single moment of it. From her sassy, smart mouth to the way she took his dick on demand. Ransom slipped his pants away, the two of them both naked and awaiting what was next. He wanted to flip her onto her tummy, rail her from behind while she took it on her hands and knees, keening at him as he thrust into her. 

But instead, he spread her legs wide and slotted his thick cock between her legs, her ankles locking around his narrow hips as he thrust in and gave a naughty twist of his hips. Slow, deep, nasty ruts into her core bounced her tits just a little and he found the wanton cries of her need to be enticing enough to lap at her nipples and breasts, licking and nipping at her skin. Grinding into her as he licked and kissed his way up her neck to that spot that made her cave in at the base of her jaw, jointed just below her ear. 

Her hands wound their way into his hair again and she gripped the strands, giving a pull back, restraining his neck a bit before she let up, allowing his head to drop a pinch. 

Chills covered his sweat sheened skin as she whispered, "harder" into his ear. His body quivered and his stomach fluttered. 

"Fuck, yes." He pulled out and flipped her to her tummy, like he'd wanted to do before. "On your knees, baby. Let me see that pussy."

She positioned like he demanded, a little sway of her hips telling him she was ready. A swift spank to her rounded ass and she cried out as he slammed home. 

"Oh, baby," she mewled as he filled her from behind, bruising fingertips pressing into her hips. 

Her lips praising him, using his nickname for her on him ignited a fire in his belly, his hips snapping harshly against her, his balls slapping against her clit. But it wasn't his pace and the pressure building in his body that was causing him to bury deep inside her, his head rubbing that g-spot that was making her moan filthy words. No, it was the look she gave as she turned her head to just peer over her should the same minute he was throbbing to cum inside her. 

"I'm...fuck, fucking cum, baby girl," he whimpered, desperately holding back so she could cream over his cock. 

And cum she did, her pulsating walls gripping him in a tight squeeze as she pulled him in with a force, literally crying out his name as she came. Her body practically convulsing in pleasure as he filled her up with his seed. The two of them collapsing against the expensive sheets, his body led over hers, still sheathed inside her as they both sagged and panted. 

As if high on the throws of their ecstasy, Ransom kissed along her back with heavy lips and hooded eyes. He could taste the saltiness of her skin, the dampness of sweet sweat a leaving a wet coating over his lips. And when he could feel the blood return to his extremities, he ever so gently pulled out of her, his body sore and tired. She whined at the feeling of his weight escaping her body, but he was quick to fill that void, replacing it with the heat of his frame as he pulled her close, allowing her head to rest against his bare and sculpted chest. He pressed his lips onto the crown of her head. 

"Sleep, baby," he whispered. "Just relax and sleep."

***** For weeks things were good, maybe even really good. Ransom was giving you more freedom, not yet unattended, but you weren't locked away. He'd made do on his promise. 

You had a great lunch with your mother, at the Country Club, in which he'd set up. He'd driven you there, waited in the bar but could easily keep an eye on you. Whilst he might have had ulterior motives that were slightly more sinister than merely being there to keep an eye on you in case you had a panic attack (the excuse you gave to your mother), all in all you didn’t mind. You, too, didn't doubt he paid the waiter a hefty tip to stay nearby as he'd checked on your table more often than most or necessary, again, you didn't mind. 

But despite his hovering, a point you'd made when you'd returned, he promised he trusted you so to save the pains of an argument, you let it go. You'd kept your own promise, never to drop a hint to your mother or anyone else that you weren't less than a free woman.

As the days neared Valentine's Day, Ransom seemed to be more touchy than usual and more than once you'd caught him softly staring at you. His eyes conveying more emotion than they did. Not unlike the first few nights when things had drastically changed between you in November. And when the day arrived, you both exchanged gifts after an early morning wakeup call that you most certainly did not mind. Ransom seemed genuinely pleased with the new silk scarf you’d ordered, having thought it would be a nice replacement for the one he had left at the mansion and point blank refused to return to collect.

For your gift, he handed you a small white envelope. Giving him a puzzled look, you opened it and pulled out a small card.

‘In our favourite room you'll find, your gift my beautiful Valentine.’

Instantly you felt an uncomfortable cold feeling in the pit of your stomach and you swallowed a little. It was a clue, exactly like the ones he had set for you all that time ago on Halloween the previous year. But, as you blinked and looked at him, you saw the expectation on his face and had to remind yourself that this was different.

This was not the same man.

"Is it at least wrapped in a bow, so I know it's mine?" You asked and he smirked a little, leaning back against the headboard of the bed.

 "Trust me, you'll know when you see it."

With a final look at him, you climbed out of bed and pulled on your silk slip before you headed down the stairs. As soon as you’d read the clue, you knew he meant the study. But, when you opened the door, you started to wonder if you’d made a mistake as there was nothing there jumping out at you, at all.

You started rummaging through the stack of things on the desk, looking for anything that resembled a gift. In your haste, you accidentally knocked small stack of notebooks over the edge of the desk. You rushed to get them and straighten them up, hoping not to mess up the order of things he'd had piled together. The moment the leather-bound journal like book touched your fingers, a jolt of curiosity ran through you. 

You opened the cover and ran your fingertips over the dried ink that sat engraved on the pages, a bold and all capitalized print to the handwriting. Not a surprise from a man who's harsh overture played constantly on the surface. Your eyes scanned and scanned the scroll, a frown creased your brow as you registered the meaning of all his notes.

These weren't just any sort of notes, these were his footnotes for his book. And that now disorganized stack of papers that moments ago littered the floor, you looked at them again and realized there among the typed and printed pieces of paper, was his manuscript. 

Hesitating, you picked it up. The front page was plain bar the words. ‘Murder, He Wrote’ and you scoffed at the fact that was the title of the article that had gotten you into this situation in the first place. Mind you, he had said you were a muse of sorts so maybe that was his way of tribute.

You flipped through, skimming the pages, finding yourself strangely proud if you will, that he’d actually finished it, well what appeared to be the first draft anyway. It was indeed about a private detective, by the name of Arnie Bronze, who was hot on the tale of a missing woman called Lucy Roberts who had vanished in mysterious circumstances.

You skipped on a few pages, the narrative shifted to that of focussing on the so called killer, a man named Riley, and you realised that Lucy wasn’t dead as anticipated, she was being held captive. 

In Riley’s basement.

You felt your stomach clench as you focussed in on a small snippet of dialogue, one that was extremely familiar.

 ‘I like this,’ Riley toyed with the straps to the bra Lucy was wearing, his middle finger tracing the outline of the strap against her skin before his lips followed the same path.

‘You should, you chose it,’ her voice was quiet, but still there it was, that unmistakable undercurrent of disdain she carried for him visibly present, as always.

Riley merely chuckled, ‘like I chose you, huh.’ At that, she blinked and looked at him, and he flashed her a smile. Oh, if only she understood exactly why…

What. The. Fuck?

Was he writing about you? Or had he already written this and was merely acting out his sick fucking fantasy. The answer to that became apparent when you tossed the manuscript down and reached for his book of notes.

It was littered with note after note, graphic accounts of the things he’d done to you, along with little questions and observations, how he could turn that into passages for his book. Your breath began to quicken and you turned the pages faster and faster, not needing to read his notes in the slightest as you could remember every sordid little detail for yourself.

Eventually you found the last page. This one contained two simple lines, the first from the night of Harlan’s memorial when he’d arrived home completely soaked.

Memorial was a shit show, as anything is when the fucking Thrombey’s are involved. Y/N made hot chocolate. Held a conversation I actually enjoyed.

This contained no side note as to how this could be used within his book, almost as if it was simply a journal entry, but you didn’t really have time to dwell on that, as your eyes flicked to the line underneath which carried no date.

Original plan changed, no longer going to get rid of when purpose served. Storyline of book will diverge at this point.

'When purpose served'. Well, it didn’t take a genius to work that out.

You threw the book down onto the desk, the room swimming around you as both your hands covered your mouth in shock and horror. You were sick to your stomach, the bile acid in your stomach turning acrid, and you wanted to wretch. 

He’d meant to kill you.

“So, do you like my gift?”

The voice made you scream and you jumped, turning to face the doorway where Ransom was stood, his sweats hung low on his hips, arms folded over his bare chest as he leaned against the frame.

“What?” you blinked, swallowing, the word nothing more than a trembling whisper. “You mean you wanted me to find this?”

“You asked me about being my muse.” He shrugged. “As you can see, you were much more than that. Happy Valentine’s Day, Sweetheart.”

You couldn't hold back the gag in your throat and you quickly turned into the waste bin by the desk, spewing your empty stomach into it. The bile burned your throat as it came up. With a shaky back of your hand, you wiped away the remnants of your episode and leaned forward on the desk, your free hand palm flat against the mahogany.

You were disgusted, that much was painfully true, but you were now terribly afraid for your life. A feeling that hadn't come over you in four months. You felt just as you had that very night, terrified, alone, and fighting a sense of chill that crept through your body and deep into your bones. Your eyes, big and brimming with tears looked up at him and your mind went numb in processing the situation. No quicker than you had just vomited, you felt a pang of hurt, your heart ripping from your chest as everything settled within you. You had accepted this, this fate that had been laid out for you. You were accepting him and the life you were being forced to live. You accepted the beast that had begun to care. But he was merely a wolf in sheep's clothing, the true monster you'd always known to lie in wait just under the surface. 

Your brows creased and your heart raced. You felt the bubbling of a scream start deep in your churning belly, your own monster vying to climb its up your chest and out of your throat. You were angrily screaming on the inside long before your voice sounded to the outside, piercing the room in a shattering, blood-curdling banshee cry of anger. 

“This…” you picked up the notebook in your right hand, throwing it at him violently, “this is the reason you took me?”

“Yes.” He didn't even dodge the thickly bound object as it hit him square in the chest before falling to the ground. 

“You...fucking asshole.” You spat, angrily swiping your arm across the desk. The neatly stacked piles of papers scattered like leaves falling from a tree as they fluttered to the floor. “And to think, I actually started to believe myself that there was more to you than everyone said, that underneath all of that bravado and narcissistic, downright nasty bastard exterior there was something or someone that maybe, just maybe was worthy of caring for! ” Your voice was loud, echoing off the wall of his study as you screamed at him. “But you kidnapped and raped and hurt me in ways I never thought possible for what? So you could write a goddamned book?”

Hot tears coursed down your face as you trembled, staring back at the utter monster who stood before you, his face stony as you wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand. “And then you planned to kill me once I no longer served a purpose? Well, tell me, how long have I got?”

“It’s not like that anymore.” Ransom took a deep breath as he stepped forward. He was calm, too calm and instantly you took a step back. “That was my initial plan, yeah, but what I wasn’t banking on was how being around you would make me feel.” He swallowed as he licked his lips. “I couldn’t get rid of you like I originally planned once you served your purpose. Because I love you.” Your mouth dropped open at his confession, utter horror coursing through your veins as you realised what he was saying. The chances of you getting out of this were depleting by the second. He really was completely fucked in the head. “No, no you don’t!” You shook your head, “this...is not love, Ransom, this is obsession, it’s...” He cut you off as he surged forward, his lips pressing to yours. You placed your hands on his chest, shoving hard as you turned your face away, screaming loudly at him to leave you alone. In an easy movement he spun you round, his arms clamping around yours pulling them behind you as he held you in place, your back pressed to his chest as he pressed his lips to your neck. “I know deep down you love me too...” his breath was hot on your neck, voice still eerily calm as his hips pushed forward and you could feel his erection digging into the curve of your spine. “Fuck, this is what you’ve done to me, feel that, Sweetheart? You wrecked me, and now I need you. It’s that simple.” At that he pushed you forward, harshly bending you over his desk, one large hand securing both of yours being your back, your body twisted in a warped recreation of that time he’d used your sweater to restrain you all those months ago. You struggled but he simply twisted your arm further, causing you to cry out in pain and desperation as his other hand roughly hoisted up your night-dress. “You’ll say it eventually.” He stated calmly as you heard that tell-tale rustle of fabric as he pushed down his sweats. “It might take another spell in the basement to make you realise, but you’ll come round.” “It doesn’t work like that.” You sobbed, your voice cracking as his hand let go of your arms and slid up to your neck, reaching round your throat. His fingers curled round your neck as he pulled your head back, his mouth nipping at your neck before he pulled back, his face inches from yours as his icy blues stared locked onto your eyes. They were cold, dangerous and you shook your head, tears pouring down your face.  Your lip trembled as you closer your eyes, taking a deep breath before you opened them again, resigning yourself to the fact that this next line might just seal your fate and wind up with you losing your life. But right now, that would be a blessed way out.  “I can’t love you simply because that’s what you want.” “Oh Sweetheart,” he chuckled, his lips ghosting over yours, “I know that. I know I can’t force you to feel something you don’t, but the only person you’re fooling is yourself. I just want you to admit it.”

“I won’t.” You stuttered, “never, Ransom.”

“Oh, Y/N. Haven’t you learned by now? I always get what I want, including this, you’ll see.” With a harsh thrust forward he pushed inside you, making you scream at the burn thanks to the fact you weren’t ready for him, at all. He gave a groan as he grabbed at your hips, your pelvis jolting painfully into the edge of the hard wooden desk you were bent over. “As my granddad used to quote,” he pulled back before delivering another deep thrust harshly into you, his fingers digging into your flesh as you closed your eyes, scrunching them shut as your cheek rest against the desk, tears leaking from your eyes, “we all become stories in the end.” 

He gave another deep rut forward as he ground into you, his breathing deep.

“Now it’s time to rewrite ours, Princess.”

*****

Epilogue

[astralpenguin]

@transnaturalweek day 2: coming out

1.4k, ao3 link

Kaia knew about Claire, but Claire had never needed to tell her.

Kaia had been there with them while they figured it out. Kaia had listened while they tried putting into words what they’d been feeling for a long time. Kaia had encouraged them to research these feelings, and had been there when they’d found out that there were a lot of people out there who felt exactly the same way. Telling Kaia that, hey, it turned out they’re not a girl after all, was easy, because Kaia had been sitting right next to them when they realised and accepted this about themself in the first place.

But if they wanted the other people in their life to ever stop calling them she, then they had to tell people about it.

Claire wasn’t interested in changing up how they looked. They liked having their hair long, and they liked the tinted lip balms they wore every day, and they didn’t want to bind. But they knew what this meant. They knew what people would assume when they saw them. Frustrating as it was, most people weren’t psychic, and they weren’t going to know that Claire wasn’t a girl unless they told them. Claire would be free to get as angry as they liked at anybody who continued to call them the wrong thing after they’d been told about it, and that anger would be fully deserved, but getting angry at people for using the wrong words to describe them when they literally didn’t know any better wouldn’t help anyone or solve anything. The world sucked, and the assumptions that people would make sucked, but it wasn’t any individual person’s fault.

They knew that if they’d figured this whole gender thing out while Kaia had been gone then they absolutely would’ve followed it up by getting angry at everybody they’d ever interacted with for not knowing. Kaia’s presence in their life calmed them, made them feel more able to face the world and all of its unfairness. They were okay so long as Kaia was in their corner.

And Kaia was in their corner about this. But Kaia couldn’t tell people for them. Claire didn’t want Kaia to tell people for them. This was something that Claire had to do themself.

They already knew how the conversations would go. Castiel and Sam would be supportive for sure. They’d probably be painfully earnest about it. Dean wouldn’t lay it on as thick as the other two, but he’d be supportive as well. Donna would grin like she always does and give them a hug. Jody would thank them for telling her and tell them that she was proud of them. Alex and Patience would actually know how to be chill, and Jack would definitely get excited and be overenthusiastic and very unchill. Claire knew that nobody that they wanted to know would react badly, and they knew that none of the people that loved them would love them any less once they knew.

It was still daunting.

Claire watched the coffee machine do its thing and considered the pros and cons of putting everyone in a group chat, making the announcement, and immediately leaving the chat. It was sounding more and more appealing every second.

“Oh, hey.”

Claire turned towards the kitchen doorway, and the source of the voice.

“I didn’t realise anyone would be in here,” said Patience.

Claire glanced towards the clock. “It’s three in the morning,” they said. “What are you doing up?”

Patience stepped into the room. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Claire flashed a grin. “I haven’t gone to bed yet. You’re the one with a normal sleep schedule.”

Patience eyed the coffee machine. “Are you planning on sleeping?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re making coffee?”

Claire shrugged. “Want some?”

Patience nodded. “Please.”

The coffee machine beeped and Claire poured out two mugs. They stirred in milk and sugar, and handed one of the mugs to Patience.

Most people weren’t psychic, and wouldn’t know Claire’s pronouns if they didn’t tell them. But Patience was actually psychic. Her specific brand of psychic ability allowed her to see into the future, not read minds, so Patience likely still didn’t know. There was a possibility that she’d already had a vision of Claire telling people, but there was a bigger possibility that she hadn’t had a vision about that, especially since Claire hadn’t made a concrete decision yet about when and how they’d be telling people.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” said Claire, leaning back against the counter and cradling their mug. “Why are you awake right now?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Patience turned towards the window and looked out into the night. “It happens sometimes. Usually nobody else is around.”

“Sorry to disturb your insomnia routine.”

Patience caught Claire’s eye through their reflections in the mirror and smiled gently. “It’s okay. You’re not disturbing me. The company is nice.”

“Does Jody know? Or-”

Patience shook her head. “I don’t want to worry her.”

Claire sipped their coffee. “I get that,” they said. “But if it gets any worse then you should tell her. She might seem overprotective but she’s only like that because she cares.”

Patience raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, and you take it so well when Jody’s overprotective with you. Are you really trying to play the wise older sister thing with me right now?”

Claire stifled a laugh, aware that other people in the house were trying to sleep. “That depends,” they said. “Is it working?”

“Nope. You’re too much of a hypocrite.”

“Damn.”

Patience laughed softly and sipped her coffee.

And she didn’t know, she didn’t, so Claire couldn’t be upset with her when what exactly she’d said sunk in a little deeper. Claire wasn’t anyone’s sister, but Patience didn’t know not to call them that. She hadn’t done anything wrong. The only person that Claire could get upset with over this situation was themself, but they weren’t about to do that.

But there was a way to make sure that it didn’t happen again.

For all that it had seemed daunting earlier, in this moment it was easy.

“Speaking of things that Jody doesn’t know about, I’m not a girl.”

The smile on Patience’s face dimmed. She turned to face Claire properly. “You’re not?”

Claire shook their head. “I’m gonna tell everyone soon, but. Yeah. I’m not.”

“So you’re a guy?”

“No,” said Claire. “Well, it’s complicated. I’m kinda somewhere in between.”

Patience nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Should I use they and them when talking about you, then?”

Relief flooded Claire that Patience already knew about this stuff, and that they weren’t about to have to give a big explanation about things that they didn’t even understand themself until a few weeks ago. “Yes, that’s exactly what you should use.”

“Got it,” said Patience. “Do you want me to hold off on using those pronouns in front of people who you haven’t told yet? People might not notice either way, but I wouldn’t want to out you.”

“Uh...” Claire drank more of their coffee as they considered this. “I guess you can judge it for yourself? I’m hoping to tell people soon anyway, so I don’t know if that’ll be an issue. Kaia already knows.”

Patience placed her mug on the counter. “I figured you’d have told Kaia already if you’re telling me.”

“Kaia helped me figure it out.” Claire traced their finger over the rim of their mug. “You’re the first person I’ve told.”

“Oh.” She looked touched. “Thank you.”

Claire pushed themself off the counter and put their empty mug in the sink. “Yeah, well. I mostly just wanted to correct you that I’m your wise older sibling, not sister.”

Patience laughed softly. “Older sibling? Yes. Wise? I’m not convinced.”

“Hey, screw you,” said Claire, a bubble of laughter escaping as they spoke. “I’m wise!”

“Didn’t you nearly get yourself killed last month because you tried fighting a pack of Rawheads by yourself?”

“I successfully fought a pack of Rawheads by myself, and obviously I was fine.”

“Jody was so angry when you told her about it.”

Claire grinned. “She was.”

Patience picked her mug up and placed it in the sink. “I’m gonna head back to my room,” she said.

“Gonna try and sleep?”

She shook her head. “Not much point. I’ll spend a few hours reading and go to bed early tomorrow to make up for it.”

Claire nodded. “Enjoy.”

Patience smiled. “Thanks,” she said. “I will.”

She left the kitchen, leaving Claire alone.

Okay.

So that went well.

They took a deep breath.

Maybe tomorrow they could tell Alex. After that, they weren’t so sure. The group chat announcement was still looking like a good idea.

They didn’t need to worry about it now.

They hit the kitchen light and made their way up to their and Kaia’s room.

It was time for them to sleep.

[isolctions]

...........so let’s finally talk abt what the actual fucking fuck is wrong with ai’rina rue castillo, huh gang? :-)

(everyone go thank @armsdealing & @durcgs beating the anxiety out of me in order to post this info-dump.)

...before we get into things, now’s the part where i establish a warning for triggers to be discussed in this lengthy headcanon post. there’s gonna be some talks of mental illness, slight alcohol abuse, & breaking down topics of familial abuse, mental abuse, religious abuse, emotional manipulation, and elements of non-con. be warned.

a’ight, so look. i’ve hinted in between threads & development that rue had a not-so-fantastic upbringing that impacted how she perceives herself, how she interacts with others, (in terms of her career, at least) and how she views personal relationships, but i didn’t realize how........severely her upbringing messed with her mental health until i started working through how i wanted to plot out rue’s behavior for her next album release. at first, i had the idea that she decided to take more time for herself & sort of distance herself from the public / media circus plaguing her life so that she can create much more authentic music. then i actually listened to the EP that i’m basing her album off of and thought “...oh.” THEN, i looked over old meme responses & old threads / mentions of her family and how she grew up and thought, not for the last time since piecing everything together: “....oh. oh fucking boy.”

so, that horrible realization dawning on me, let’s talk about rue’s childhood.

i wrote a thing like, two years ago almost (that upon looking for last night, i realized i didn’t actually share it w/ anyone but alex in our discord server & only mentioned a portion of it in rue’s moodboard that i made) that talked vaguely about how rue felt growing up. and it’s worth noting that...she’s the middle of ten fucking siblings. and that’s just the brothers & sisters she knew of that stayed with their mother. and on top of that, not all of those siblings are the product of rue’s father, or even rue’s mother for that matter. and it’s also worth noting that rue not only grew up in poverty, but she grew up never having any actual space that had solely been her own, or even an article of clothing that had belonged entirely to her. so naturally, as a young child, rue sort of became torn between starved for attention & wanting someone to pay attention to her (whether that be her older siblings including her in something, whatever teacher they had for the next six months to call on her for something, for her mother to miraculously show up with her unknown father in tow one day, & for literally anyone to be her friend, pls god Notice her!!!) and for people to simply leave her the hell alone. obviously, this carried into adulthood.

and branching off from the whole “lack of space” point i made, rue wound up growing up to become increasingly more private as time went on because she literally cannot remember a single moment where she wasn’t squished between a bunch of people. driving around in their minivan? rue’s packed in the middle of the second row. nowhere to sleep while on the road? rue’s smacked between gigantic older brothers & clingy little siblings. need to use to bathroom? lmao, she better off going outside!!! gotta change clothes? yeah, good luck with that. it was to the point where, when rue got her first period, she was humiliated by it — not because ‘omg, am i a woman now?? wtf is this???’, but because she ruined the one good sheet that she slept on with her sisters & they were super pissed at her and her mother withheld pay from her for weeks. >:/

already, rue grew up never having shit to herself until the record deal. but she also dealt with literally...so much abuse from her mother. rue thought this was the norm growing up, because all of her siblings faced their mother’s wrath at some point & all of them eventually learned to just deal with the shit and do what she says if they wanted to avoid it. they all compartmentalized and repressed to varying degrees. there’s a lot in which rue has repressed so deeply, she doesn’t even remember if it seriously happened or if she was just making it up bc it was so fucking bizarre for a parent to act that way towards their child, lol?? (and this behavior of “i’m just going to do what you say bc i don’t want to deal with whatever bullshit you’re up to if i say no” also carried into business / personal relationships, which is...very Yikes it’s amazing she didn’t get scammed or worse!) 

so sure, people have complimented her for her exceptional manners & her cleanliness & how quiet / polite she is & how amazing her posture is, bc seriously, this girl will never experience back problems in her life bc her posture is so on par. but where rue typically smiles / responds bashfully, she can’t exactly just up and say: “oh, yeah, my mom used to slap the shit out of me ‘til i bruised if i spoke out of turn or talked back, and if i reached for anything in the store or put my elbows on the table she’d slap a ruler against my palms ‘til i got welts, and she’d make me read verses all night without sleep if i did anything wrong and make me straighten up and kneel on rice if i slouched or took a nap in church and humiliated me in public if i so much as looked at someone of the opposite sex on the street n oh, did i mention i also cleaned houses for rich millionaire snobs from ages twelve to sixteen and if they said or did literally anything to me i wasn’t allowed to defend myself?? ya i’m real proper :)”

(and normal ppl will go: “...................what the FUCK is WRONG with you????”)

but oh man, babe, we’re not done yet!!! rue, being the product of both a highly religious and a highly exploitative household...had difficulty when she started reaching puberty & noticing her classmates. plural, because it wasn’t just boys that she began to secretly have crushes on / fantasize abt, sexually or domestically. she also realized, oh shit, that she started looking at girls differently too. and that literally put the fear of god into her heart, bc if her mother ever found out that she was having non-platonic feelings for the girls in her classrooms, she wasn’t going to be pissed. her mom might have actually tried to kill her. or have her exorcised or something. she knew the shit would be severe, and she wanted no fucking parts of her mother or her siblings inserting the church into her personal life, thank u very much! so rue started suppressing her romantic feelings for people to the point where if adult rue receives intimacy, she’s like “...is this allowed? is this not illegal??????” while simultaneously being like “i will be a slut. just this once. as a Treat to teenage me. :>” regardless, rue learned to molotov cocktail literally any emotion or thought she had, bc she was paranoid that it would give her mother a vision.

now, onto the perils of exploitation...she should’ve been used to it really, what with her mother forcing herself & siblings to lure customers into their shop with promises of visions and palm readings and the wonders of the cards and overexerting their abilities. same with housekeeping, like being of service to people was normal! but when seventeen year old rue decided to sign a record deal and break from home, she wasn’t thinking critically about what the fuck all of this would entail. and as described in this headcanon post abt her discography, her early music was the product of allowing people much older & powerful than you to influence your work & manipulate your values. so rue was very much parading around as someone she wasn’t, someone much more confident and badass and self-assured than she really was, and she was so impressionable back then that it literally makes her sick to think back on it now. she calls it her puppy phase and phrases the eagerness to please execs as ‘tongue wagging’. homegirl hardly even knew her name anymore, bc all she was and all she would ever be was rue, the star, the vocal temptress. not ai’rina, the help or ai’rina, the seer, ai’rina, the weak little nobody. but later on, the subtle manipulation was less about decision making & how they wanted her to sound, and more about how they wanted to present the latest trophy star — because after all, she was pretty. people liked her. she sung really well. suitors weren’t too far off into the distant future. so why not kill two birds with one stone by having a high ranking label artist keep tabloids talking by being seen in public with a few heart throbs? surely, there’s no harm in manipulating an eighteen/nineteen year old’s love life! under the guise of improving her social skills & relations with fellow artists and the media and the like, rue gave into the pressures and let herself be taken out on dates & seen at awards shows with a few guys. no big deal. it was only for a night or so, she could handle the attention. then, one night appearances turned into week long appearances. pretending to date for only a month! completely innocent, positive exposure. :)

(adult rue, looking back @ younger rue: you stupid fucking BITCH-)

yeah, so once her label/management realized that she was turning into a hot commodity, they lost no sleep at allowing their nineteen year old artist to be seen ‘dating’ 20-24+ year old men occasionally. and whatever happened after their public appearances were none of their business. plus, she was good at pretending and being arm candy — so rue experienced her first kiss, her first dates, and her first times with people who she’s almost certain hardly remember their time with her, and really only got involved with her for a mutual career boost. very few of them does she actually remember in a positive light, and the ones that were positive, still depress her bc lmao all of it was fake, even if they were really nice & made it less like a chore and more like they actually wanted to be with her!! even fewer of them were actual relationships. meaning, said person asked her out of their own volition, not bc their managers thought it’d be a decent match on camera. it was evil, really, what her old label made of her. (like, she makes funny jokes that her first time having sex was awkward bc she had a vision halfway through that bummed her out but in reality it was just...really more of a transaction that made her feel icky n progressively worse abt herself until it happened more often and now she just doesn’t care anymore. sex is just sex, u know?? everything’s fake. why you gotta make it personal.) this whole fiasco took over the larger part of rue’s career from like, age nineteen to age twenty-two or so, and she suffered dramatically from this because what is even a genuine, authentic relationship at this point? what do u mean you want to get to know me? did ur manager tell you to ask so many damn questions & try to get to know me? obviously you want something from me bc that’s why everyone gets into a relationship or has sex with me, stop confessing feelings for me u fucking loser. >:/

like...rue doesn’t even have friends. outside of her relationship with marcelo / @armsdealing​ (which, AGAIN, i think was initially arranged to promote her song be honest, how fucking IRONIC), rue does not have any personal relationships with anyone. i mean, she likes her latest management team since switching labels...her hair stylist is rly cool & her make up artist is fun to vacation with...she met a few other celebrities at events that she occasionally texts & has dinner with...yeah, she’s basically a pretty hermit. her family is more or less out of the question — the few brothers & sisters she does still have a positive relationship with (like, four of them lol), they don’t see each other in person often / mainly communicate via groupchat and facetime calls when all of them have time. she tried visiting with her mother over the years, but the verbal & emotional abuse/curses placed on her/accusations of being an imp of satan for singing to the public/memories of being forced to perform psychic shows & clean for chump change keeps her from trying to mend that relationship. like, being gaslit by ur mother isn’t really the vibe, u know? and bottom line, rue simply is a very shy and socially stunted individual who does not know how to communicate like a normal human being anymore. hell, her life revolves around pretending for strangers at this point!

now, onto how...all of That ties into her behavior / state of mind during this next album. so, after riding the wave of success from her third album & the circus that came with that. rue sort of had a fucking existential crisis. came out of absolutely nowhere. (not nowhere — one of her brothers called her out of the blue and called her ai’rina and she literally went “who the fuck is that?”) told her label that she was taking some time in between albums bc she was creatively zapped or whatever bullshit excuse she came up with that somehow worked bc this new label was a little more understanding than the last. vacationed for a little, did some hot girl shit, bought a house, tried to see her mother again for whatever reason then got the shit slapped out of her and finally screamed at her to never touch her again unless she wanted to Throw Hands. cried and got drunk abt it. that took six months. bullshat to her label again, dropped like two songs to smooth things over, decided to focus on magic for a little to ground her, started partying with label mates then going home shitfaced & hungover every other morning. that took eight months. dropped one last song, promptly deleted her twitter, tried to write songs again, got a call from her mother and panicked and got drunk. that took a year. vacationed some more, got even drunker, was bed ridden for like three months because holy shit i’m having so many visions and if i see One More Thing my brain is going to explode, couldn’t separate the present from the future for weeks after that, told absolutely no one about that, cried every day & had an identity crisis, dyed her hair to appease the identity crisis goblins. that took a year and a half.

now, she just chilling. dyed her hair again. scaring her siblings halfway to death bc she keeps going on benders & sending cryptic texts abt the visions she’s getting but they’re so incomprehensible that they’re seriously considering moving in to get her fucking shit together. had a vision that she was married with kids and had a two week identity crisis appeased only by moving houses. (she was in a neighborhood with families...too much Drama and visions. turned into a really cool song tho.) started calling herself by her birth name of ai’rina in private. reactivated twitter to send cryptic tweets that her album is coming. working on said album. trying to drink less but kinda failing bc how is one simply supposed to make a highly personal dual album without alcohol??? prbly somewhere crying in marcelo’s lap or smthn. just vibes.

like...i feel like, in my head, the Theme of her project is wrapped up in identity. her relationship with fame and whatnot. trying to coax her childhood self out of its’ shell so that she can function like a normal goddamn person for once and re-establish her values. like, if someone went to any of rue’s residences right now, it’s just songbooks everywhere and wine glasses and her crystals and shit, bc she still has people’s futures to read for money. (yes, she never really got out of that portion of her childhood, but hey it pays.) it was all very confusing to experience at once while in bed at four in the morning & even though i tried organizing and debated on this, it’s still a Lot. which is why i am once again asking for plots that would allow her to dissect all these Things

so yeah. album four otw, with a side of confronting our childhood & facing our traumas!

[obsessionsposts]

Tw: toxic relationship / emotional manipulation at the end / non-con use of drugs.

In the harsh forests of Siberia, there lays a forlorned man kneeling in the ground ; as he observed his sole friend being eaten by the serrated teeth of the snow.

He didn't know which is worse the icy winds that threatens to graze his skin, or the empty void that keeps on growing gradually to enrapture him in a spectral of sorrow; leaving him without a light and any shred of hope.

Not that it mattered anyways, Vladimir was born alone; lived his life alone and probably will die alone.

When the hamster drowned completely ; the man grumbled and stood up to make away to his estranged family whom visits him scarcely in his shack of solitude.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

" приве́т, брат. как дела? ", a familiar care-free voice echoed through the Siberian larch shack.

" Здравствуйте, младшая сестра.Я в поря́дке", replied Vladimir in a monotone tone.

A few minutes have passed, yet the situation kept on getting awkward between the estranged siblings. Until, Dunya abruptly disturbed the silence with her sugary voice.

" Brother, l may not visit you frequently. However, I fret alot about how negligent you've recently become not only toward us, but also toward yourself. So, I have an idea to remedy your desolation. ," the Belarusian suggeted awaiting the response of the reticent male.

"What that may be ? It won't work. No matter any attempt I've conducted to burn the memory. At best it haunts me, at worst, it depletes me.", came the cynical voice of the large man who is huddled beside the fireplace.

"Please understand that I give you my word that this time you'll- , she was cut off by Vladimir.

"No! You lack understandment. If you did understand me back then, why did abandon me? Now, don't try to manipulate me with your sugar-coated words,dear sister", his voice filled with loathe and disregard toward his traitor of a sister. Not that she was of his own blood, which proves his point people are discrenibly not to be trusted.

At one point, they'll take what they want from you; and then they will abandon you at any chance they get. He wont let it happen to him again. Never again.

As he ignored the wailing of his pathetic sister to stay and consider ; he left his shack and decided to go to the nearest town to meet one of the few people he came to trust. (Y/n).

His beloved snowflake.

His latest hope, that he'll make sure to persevere this time.

It's his turn to be selfish and take his reward for all the years of agony and loneliness.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

A jingle was heard notifying you that a customer came. Only to be pleasantly surprised, that it was the the russian regular customer; Vladimir.

Well,at first he intimidated you; with his structure,lack of expression,and his nihilistic attitude. With time, as you got to know him better he is such a fascinating and kind man despite the rumors spread about him.

The enormous brunette approached you with a stoic expression decorating his visage, however you knew better that he was glum.

"What seems to trouble you,Vlad? You appear to be out of it today, more than the usual?", you asked concerned about him; considering Vlad repress his emotion which isn't a healthy outlet as of you red about.

Another thing, he cherishes about you that your concerns and frets are genuine. Alongside, your intellect that sparked both his mind and heart alike.

" Нет, just stressed. I want to talk to you,if you're not busy.", he huffed as he inserted his large hands inside the pockets of his overcoat.

" No, not all. Considering I am about to close the shop now. I don't mind accompany you. Just give me a momento~ and I'll be ready.", as you left to close the shop; you didn't notice the ghost of a smile contorting through the face of the brunette russian.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

"So, what are up to,Vlady? and care to share why were you upset? I don't want to be pushy, but If you'd like to share then I am all ears", you remarked and poked the towering man inflicting a warm feeling inside his heart. Just like the sun he rarely saw.

Sighing, as he began to retell about what happened a month ago along with recent happenings.

The way, he spoke about his best friend passing hurt your heart- reflecting your true nature as an empath- and the cold anger of his when he spoke about his family.

You wondered what happened to represent such hate. No matter, what matters now is to bring Vladimir spirits up.

"Say, what would you like me to do to bring your hopes up? Anything you'd like!", as you encircled your arms around his waist or in your case below his stomach.

The warmth of your bodice and it softness clashed against his rough and cold ones made him realize, how much of an important factor you represent in his wretched life with his wretched family and wretched luck.

In addition, if anyone did what you did he will forcefully push them aside. But, you! you are his everything as much as he will be your everything soon enough.

Now, the door of opportunities had granted him this chance to enrapture you in his grasp forevermore; thus he will take it with an iron firm hands.

"да,please. Follow me to my lodge,маленький", offering his hands to you.

Grasping his hands, you began to walk aside him to his abode.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

Nothing,but the howling of the wind was heard ; as the both of you strolled toward his domicile. Vladimir reached his pockets to grab the keys and open the inky door.

"Such an interesting and intricate place you got,Vlad. Did you buy it?", stepping inside of the well-decorated abode. Said abode, was built upon black wood, and everything here are made of either wood or rarely metal.

Yet, it captured your interest as you are a fan of vintage architecture such as this.

"Glad you like it. However, I hadn't bought it. If, anything I built from scratch as I have an interest in building structures."

"My, that's amazing!,Vlad. You're such a talented man", you complimented his craftsmanship as you laid your hand at a woman in bridal clothes made from various type of wood.

Meanwhile, as you were immersed in the details of the house ; Vladimir brewed some tea for both him and his wife-to-be.

' It seems that you took my den to your liking. Good, adapt. Because, from on you'll be living here ;you'll become one with me and won't have the chance to leave me.'

" (Y/n)? May you come and chatter with me over a cup of tea?", Vladimir beckoned you as he sat in an umber chair; which is in front of a circular chocolate brown table.

"Sure thing.", trotting toward him with a sparkle of interest residing in your eyes. On the other hand, your guts is telling you otherwise. However, you ignored it. That was the last strike, before your fall down.

" Remember our first meeting? Nostalgic as it may be,but it always have a special place in my dormant heart", the brunette sipped his tea as he awaited your response.

" Indeed, I do !. Infact, I do too cherished and it is very sweet of you to say that. Considering, you're a grumpy bear usually", you remarked playfully,sipped your tea, and watched him glare at you halfheartedly.

" V-vlady, what's happening all of sudden. Why is everything so dizzy?", you spoke as you watch the world around you swirl and black spots began hazing your mind. Before you plummeted to the ground, a large arms had caught you in their arms. It wasn't warm this time,it was deathly cold similar to the embrace of death himself.

The last thing you saw were; Vlad's bloody irises and a cold smile gracing his visage.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

Once you awakened from your stupor, you were met directly with the bloody orbs of the person whom took advantage of you.

" Ah! маленький. You've awaken; its seems the drug didn't last long. No matter, what truly matters is that you're with me now." ,Vladmir crawled closer to you. Thus, you started to take a step from your former friend.

"Why are you doing this Vladimir? Why? after all we've been through; you do this", your eyes began to drip in tears as you screamed at your fr- No! at the strange man that possessed your friend.

"Because, you are the only one who cares authentically about me and isn't afraid of me. You painted my grey world with your light. You're the sunshine that I never had, this why I have to keep you away. So, no one would taint you. Can't you see I am a merely broken man shunned and forsakened by his own family?. Yet, you want to take away my chance of happiness,маленький?", Vladimir remarked bitterly,staring intently through your eyes with desolate engraved in his cold dead eyes.

"Just give into me,love. If you won't I might do something we both will regret."

Finally, in the end he have gotten something good out of this pointless life! and he'll will ensure her safety with him as he'll drown her with the love that he never had.

This is a story of man who lost everything,yet he gained something better than everything; eternal love.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

A/n: Hope you like it. Sorry if it took so long and thank you for requesting!

Translations:

приве́т, брат. как дела? - Hello,brother. How are you?

Здравствуйте, младшая сестра.Я в поря́дке. - Hello, little sister. I'm fine.

да - Yes.

маленький - little one.

[cravingmarvel]

Roman Nightmare - mente di pietra [2]

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Implied smut, alcohol consumption, charming bucky (if I forgot anything please let me know!) Btw, this series includes a lot of OCs!

Summary: It all started with a hook up, then another one and then Bucky was done for. He fell in love headfirst, no warning and no end to it anytime soon. But Y/n has a boyfriend and a secret and a wedding to attend in Rome. Despite giving him enough reasons to stay away, the two of them are like magnets, always finding their way to each other, wanted or not.

Have fun reading and please like, comment and reblog! Tell me what you think.

Chapter Two - mente di pietra 

Bucky Barnes sat in his home office, listening to a report from Chase who was stationed in Brooklyn, going on about a weapon delivery caught by one of his men. He was listening briefly, but his mind was otherwise occupied. It’s been nearly a month since the one night stand with y/n and Bucky just couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that she hasn’t tried to reach out to him, something that seemingly happens with all the women he shares a bed with for a night.

He glanced over to his phone, checking for new messages, but only the unimportant ones appeared. He momentarily forgot not only Chase, but also the fact that she had no way of knowing the mob bosses’ number. This became a routine over the three and a half weeks, checking his phone, e-mails and even asking Sam, his main correspondent, if she tried to find him.

Sam, understandably, rolled his eyes every time Bucky asked. Sam is his friend first and so his behaviour was excused, but still Bucky got mad at him for not having the answer he wants. Sooner or later Y/n would want to reach out, he reassured himself. He can’t go after her, that’s just not who he is. But somehow his brain kept flashing images of her eyes, her soft skin underneath his palms. He tried to shake the visuals out, locking them away, but there was no use. If he could just see her one more time, graze his fingers through her hair one more time, he would be satisfied.

The women he has around him tend to be a little clingy, lingering around him whenever he’s out with his friends. The ones he takes home have a habit of staying the night until the morning arrives, hoping for breakfast in bed with the attractive bachelor. Bucky doesn’t worry about that really, he’s out of bed before they realize.

Every morning after, Clint, one of Bucky’s most loyal men, escorts the beauties out, bringing them home. Over the years Clint has memorized this routine, already holding his hand out for the girls to put a piece of paper in it with their number on it hoping Bucky will call.

He never does.

As Chase ended the skype call, Bucky leaned back in is leather chair, turning it side to side, before deciding that he had enough. If she’s not reaching out to him, he will reach out to her.

-

Meanwhile, y/n sat in the newly opened café with her friends going over a presentation that was due for the next meeting on Monday. Though they were hard at work, none of them could help the conversation to drift off to non-work-related topics.

As the late evening approached, Chelsea asked for the other girls to get ready for their Friday night outing at her place, but Nina declined. “My parents have set up a date for me.” She lowered her head and y/n placed a hand on her back in pity.

Nina was truly the child of the family, being the younger one of five siblings, all married. She couldn’t help but struggle to find a partner. Not that she wasn’t desirable, she was plagued by shyness. Any man that approached her was met with stuttering words, head hanging low and few words. So, her parents took it upon themselves to lead her into the arms of a suitable companion, though none of the men ever suck around.

“Who is it now, a guy they met at church?” Franzi asked, not with poison, but concern. “Again.” She added, rolling her eyes.

Nina nodded her head not taking her eyes off her thighs, which were covered by the pastel pink skirt she wore ever so often. She never despised her parents for it, looking at it as her parents looking out for her. “Look, it’s not a shame that you’re not married, Franzi is the only one here tied down.” Chelsea spoke, looking over to Franzi who nodded her head. “And besides, you have a job you pour your heart and soul into. The time will come.”

Nina smiled shyly, cheeks turning pink.

While Bucky was focused on y/n, she was focused on her friends, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t cross her mind though. Her friends ever so often reminding her of him and that was enough for her. They asked questions which y/n felt like she couldn’t answer without consent.

After hugging Nina goodbye and wishing her good luck on her date, they walked over to Chelsea’s apartment.

Walking into the stylish place, Chelsea, Franzi and y/n took off their jackets and shoes ready to tackle their outfits, hair and make-up. They each sprinted up the stairs to Chelsea’s bedroom, giddy with excitement for the following hours.

Chelsea was in charge of picking out the dresses for each one, while y/n took over the make-up and hair department. Franzi on the other hand sat on the bed too engulfed by checking her cycle. “Y’know, maybe you should stop drinking if you and Ryan are really serious about this whole baby thing.” Y/n said, looking over her shoulder while letting the curl in her hand fall gently on Chelsea’s back.

Franzi made no effort tearing her eyes away from her phone screen, squinting her eyes. “You really are the least fun one of the group, aren’t you?”

Chelsea started laughing loudly throwing her head back, making y/n nearly burn her scalp with the curling rod. “I think you forgot who had a one-night stand.”

“Yeah like what, a month ago?” Franzi looked y/n in the eyes through the mirror without lifting her head.

Y/n scoffed focusing on the task at hand, finishing up the last pieces of hair and then running her fingers through the curls breaking them apart. Chelsea sprayed a little hairspray while y/n unplugged the curling rod.

-

Bucky stood not so far away from the bar, his eyes flicking to the door every so often. Sam, Steve and Clint stood opposite him, forming a circle, none of them were sure what this was about, but they just ran with it, hoping that she would show up any minute now.

A few women tried to push their way through to him, hoping for a drink spend on his name and maybe a lot more as the night lingers. Bucky spared them no glance though, mind focused on finding her in the crowd. He wasn’t sure about what he would do once she did show up, never in his life has he pursued a woman more than two days and most if not all girls practically slept on his doorstep waiting for him to open the door.

His hand shook around the glass he was holding, earning a few confused glances from his friends. They’ve seen him nervous before, but only when trouble starts to arise. Seeing their boss, the one who shot people straight in the head so shaken by a woman was indeed a strange sight to see.

-

As the three girls walked into the place, the bar was already packed with people, more than usual Franzi said to them. They worked their way through the crowd, the music overpowered by chatter, as they reached the copper bar. They all ordered their usual shot and raised their glasses to the weekend.

“Why the hell is it so full?” Franzi asked annoyed as a group of rather young girls pushed their way past her, each one bumping into her back without an apology.

“Because once a month they have happy hour and today is that day, Franzi.” Chelsea answered her question, knitting her eyebrows together, wondering just how young the girls are.

“Good, I thought the bartender was flirting with me. I swear to god, when Ryan and I have a kid, we will make sure they don’t go near a club until they’re twenty-one.”

While Chelsea and Franzi talked, y/n turned her focus to the crowd, not that she found their chatting boring, but she didn’t find it very interesting either. Her eyes roamed around the room lazily not focussing on anything specific, until her eyes found a pair of very familiar blue ones. She saw Bucky smiling at her, a tumbler glass in one of his hands.

Y/n turned her head away quickly earning the attention from her friends. “Bucky is here.” She whispered as if he could hear her over the noises, interrupting Franzi.

Franzi and Chelsea turned their heads trying to fid him in the crowd, which turned out to not be so difficult. “Yeah, we can tell.” Franzi smiled as Bucky reached the trio.

“Hey.” He spoke, addressing everyone, but his eyes were focused on y/n as she turned around to face him.

“Hey, Bucky. This is Franzi and Chelsea.” Y/n introduced him, and he politely shook their hands. He initiated a conversation, but y/n couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that he was here, talking to her friends.

“Can I steal you away for a moment?” Bucky caught her attention, placing his free hand in the small of her back, gently pulling her away. Y/n nodded and let him lead her through the crowd.

They reached his friends and Bucky introduced them, still keeping his hand steady on her back. Y/n smiled at the three her nerves overflowing asking herself why he was introducing her to his friend group.

“So, what do you do?” Sam asked as he took a long sip from his Bellini con Fragola. “Job wise.” He added.

“Ah, well I work for Stark. Not much to say about that though.” Y/n laughed uncomfortably, looking over to her two friends, who were watching cautiously. The four friends started chatting about Tony Stark, knowing him very personally, but y/n couldn’t really find any way into the conversation.

Franzi and Chelsea noticed the loneliness of their friend beckoning for her to come back. Y/n excused herself from the group, earning a rather confused look from Bucky. She squeezed herself back into the mass of people reaching her two friends with confusion.

Bucky watched after her as she sat back down at the bar and as there were more people swarming in, he decided it would be better to sit down than to stand within the crowd. He beckoned for Sam, Steve and Clint to follow him towards the table at the wall, putting on his rather mean face, ready to scare away the teens sitting on the red velvet benches.

They approached the table and immediately the five people sitting at it turned their heads to Bucky. Four of them looked terrified, but one kept a stern face. He was definitely drunk, Bucky thought, and he almost let the smirk give away his amusement. “Go.” Bucky said without breaking eye contact with the young man.

Everyone but him got up immediately and he was pulled by the girl who sat next to him, her hand firmly on his arm. “C’mon, Brad!” She hissed through her teeth clearly knowing better than to disobey the Bucky Barnes.

Brad got up slowly as Sam and Steve slit onto the bench opposite him, giving up the fight. Bucky and Clint sat down, and Bucky’s eyes roamed around looking for y/n.

Bucky’s jaw clenched watching a man talk to her, laughing as he finished talking. Bucky wasn’t jealous, he convinced himself, that’s just not who he is. He never got jealous, but then again her would never seek out to find a woman let alone introduce her to his friends.

To him it looked as if she was having a lot of fun, but what slipped through his hardened gaze is the fact that she was laughing out of pity.

He watched as y/n slit off the bar stool, rummaging through her purse as she disappeared through the crowd and re-emerged outside the bar. Bucky quickly stood up walking out after her, ignoring Sam as he yelled after him.

Bucky felt his confidence rise as the fresh air hit his face, breathing in deeply. “I can drop you off at home if you’d like.”

Y/n turned; cigarette positioned in between her lips with her lighter in hand. She was clearly more intoxicated, judging by the unsteady posture. “No, thank you.” She smiled back at him.

Bucky chuckled darkly. He could tell she knew what he meant, but he wasn’t quite sure what stopped her form accepting his offer.

Truth was, y/n had no clue what to say to him, she was drunk but not as much as the last time they saw each other. Bucky moved closer to her slowly, holding on to her waist as he took the cigarette away from her lips throwing it into the trash next to them. He leaned into the side of her face and she sensed his cologne better this time around, although she wasn’t sure he even wore some a month ago. “How about we go to my place then?”

Bucky lowered his head, trailing kisses down her neck to her collarbone. A quiet moan escaped her lips, fuelling Bucky’s ego. He held onto her waist tighter as she subconsciously nodded her head. She could feel his fingers digging into her side.

Bucky lead y/n to the familiar black car and opened the door for her. Y/n texted Chelsea what was going on and wished them a fun time.

The car came to a stop and Bucky climbed out of the car opening the door for y/n. She took his outstretched hand and as soon as she straightened her back, her eyes fell on the mansion. It was small compared to other mansions she’d seen online, a cosy in between of extravagance and family home. Bucky lead her closer to the white double doors, the mesmerised look on her face brought a smile to his.

As soon as the doors were opened, Bucky lifted her up into his arms and carried her up the stairs to his bedroom.

-

Around midnight, Bucky had no intention to sleep just yet. He tightened his grip around her waist, burying his face into her hair inhaling the soft tones of strawberry. He relaxed next to her, his eyes following the curve of her lips, to her cheekbones, the delicate rising and falling of her back. He gently ran his thumb over her cheek, placing a kiss to the crown of her head. Bucky exhaled deeply knowing that she would go home in the morning, but an evil part of his heart wanted her to stay, no just tomorrow, but every tomorrow after that.

Only problem was that he had no idea how to admit it to himself nor to the one laying securely in his arms, right where he needed her to be.

-

Y/n lifted the covers off her body, looking over to Bucky sound asleep still. She put her dress back on and went to grab her purse, but the darkness made it impossible to find. Y/n quietly shuffled around the room trying to decipher where her purse could be, but knew it was impossible to find anything in this room with no light.

The door squeaked as she opened and closed it with a click. She walked down the stairs into the small foyer spotting the security guard next to the door, the same one that drove them here. As she walked towards him, he held out the purse she was missing, saying that she left it in the car.

“Would it be possible if you could call a cab for me?” Y/n spoke quietly, but the bodyguard shook his head, telling her that she will be driven home. Y/n nodded her head and immediately heard footsteps approaching.

“Leaving so soon?” Clint spoke as he walked out of the house, Y/n following him.

“You’re Ben, right?”

“Clint.”

Y/n nodded her head, red tinting her cheeks as she climbed into the backseat. Her phone buzzed in her purse and as she read the message her heart picked up beating faster.

Harry:

Hey Babe!!!   I just landed. How ab lunch tomorrow?

***

Masterlist || Next

[sunshineandfangs]

Klarosummer - Lemon Squares || Sauveuse et Bourreau

@klarosummerbingo

Sorry, I was late, but this is my latest entry to “My-Brain-Needs-to-Chill” a memo to myself. 

Warnings: brief but graphic depictions of gore and mentions of abuse.

Klaus narrowed his eyes listening to the fearful and angry mutterings of one of the corner tables. He traced the edge of his brandy glass, not particularly impressed by its strength. Gulping the last mouthful, he set the glass on the bar and sauntered over to the table.

“Why so glum?”

They eyed him warily, noting the higher quality of his clothes. Wondering if he came from the lord’s castle, if he was there to question their recent lack of tribute.

To their noticeable surprise, he instead snagged a nearby chair, pulling it over to sprawl in, knowing it would make him seem less threatening. He could compel the answers from them if he had to, but compulsion was a blunt tool, made far less effective if he didn’t know precisely what he wanted.

And in fact, he didn’t. Klaus had only recently arrived in the little hamlet, intending to pass through on his way to a larger city. But the stench of fear and hate had been near palpable, and he couldn’t help his curiosity.

What manner of monster was tormenting this little town?

---

He raised his eyebrow, allowing his face to portray an air of curious concern. Waited patiently as the table shifted with unease. The silence stretched as the men exchanged a series of looks, before one of them reluctantly started to speak.

“There’s been trouble recently, sir. And if you are wise, you’ll heed our advice and leave this place as soon as you can.”

“Is the concern truly so great that you would advise travelers leave?”

Klaus’ curiosity and intrigue only grew as the men simply nodded solemnly at his words. Little hamlets like these needed some manner of foot traffic to sustain themselves these days, as the exchange of goods became ever more prevalent.

They literally should not be able to turn away strangers, and yet that was precisely what they were attempting to do.

His eyes dilated as his gaze carefully locked with each man in turn, knowing they would close ranks and refuse to divulge whatever secret this town held. Likely afraid that whatever horror had visited them would deter strangers forever. A true death sentence.

“Tell me, what is this cause for concern?”

Klaus felt his eyebrows creep steadily higher as a wild tale unfolded.

---

Three Months Ago

A scream tore through the still morning air, dawn’s first tendrils of light only beginning to creep over the land.

Nearby farmers that had already started their morning stilled in their fields and barns, clenching their pitchforks and hoes as they ventured toward the source of the noise. 

It had been a feminine cry, a woman’s hysterics they were all hoping, even as uneasy shivers crawled down their spines. Even for a woman, that shriek had been terrible, invoking sparks of primal fear.

And they didn’t like that. 

They should have no need to fear anything. Strong and capable as they were, protecting and providing for their women and children.

Yet when they came across the source of those screams, most shouted out themselves. One of the younger ones, only just out of his boyhood years, wretched into the grass, spiting up bile onto the dirt.

For there in the entryway of a small two-person cottage was a man.

Or the remains of a man rather, his body cut into more bloody chunks and ribbons that any of the men could count. The rest of him was smeared across the floor in pools of blood, offal such as intestines and stomach and liver intact, but gruesomely displayed just out side the door.

And just beyond the open door, the wood left open from where the woman had coming charging out the house, was a head. Standing on its bloody stump and smiling a too wide grin, lips peeled back to reveal rotting teeth. His eyes seemed to bulge from the graying flesh, eyelids similarly removed.

By God, none of them had seen anything like it.

--

More and more bodies were found by panicked villagers, many ending up near catatonic after seeing such horrors. No display was alike, each corpse cut and desecrated in new ways.

With the townspeople panicking, hostilely eyeing neighbors and strangers alike, it was no wonder that it took several weeks to realize one other fact.

Children were going missing.

And it was always a child related to one of the dead...

Then, whispers and rumors starting circulating. Of strange women being seen with the newly departed not long before their demise. Sometimes fair of hair and other times black. A few times red of hair even, a mark of devilry if there ever was one.

But no matter how cautious, people kept dying and children kept vanishing.

---

Now, Klaus wasn’t one to care for the concerns or problems of humans. More often than not he may have even been the cause of them himself. That being said, such elaborate and macabre displays weren’t really to his taste. He could appreciate the gruesome creativity he supposed, but that was really more his brother’s style. 

What did actually upset him was the children. Cruel as it sounded, death was often the kindest fate that awaited those in the clutches of monsters. And such things were not tolerated by him or his siblings when a child was involved.

A second compulsion blurred his table mate's memories of his appearance and questions, as he blurred away a moment later. Hunting for the creature whose death he would relish.

---

Somewhere deep in the woods a beautiful blonde woman smiled at a tiny, slip of a girl. Her frock a bit dirty and worn, her face drawn and tired.

The blonde extended a hand to the little girl, waiting patiently as the child considered.

Small fingers eventually reached out to twine with the blonde’s her eyes large and hopeful as she followed the woman inside, lured by promises of warmth and comfort and food.

---

Caroline paused, brow furrowed, lemon rind still pressed against the metal grater. She had conned Klaus into helping her with the Mystic Falls Bake Sale, an annual charity drive that donated its funds to Families Forward Virginia. And as always, Caroline was on a spree, making batch after batch of the famous Forbes Lemon Squares.

A baking spree, Klaus just disrupted with his disturbing choice in storytelling.

“What the hell, Klaus?! Why would I want to hear your creepy recounting of personal history?” 

She whirled around to make sure he could properly see her angry gesturing, her pointed stares as she glance between his eyes and the abandoned mixing bowl on his side of the counter.

He offered a dim half-smile, his normal amusement from her reactions quelled by an odd, uncharacteristic sadness. Though he obligingly returned to his designated mixing, staring into the batter as he whisked.

“Apologies, sweetheart, I find I’m in a bit of a mood today.” He shook his head, tone returning to the normal soft and weird affection he spoke to her with. “What you’re doing though is admirable, Caroline. We both know monsters will continue to exist for eternity, but you’ve found a way to aid the survivors.”

The two lapsed into silence, the kitchen filled with only the sounds of their baking.

“I never found her you know?”

“...What?”

“Whoever was terrorizing that town. She disappeared not long after I started hunting for her.”

“Why were you? Hunting her, I mean?”

Klaus whirled to face the blonde, a little hurt despite himself at her continued low opinion of him.

“Caroline,” he stated quite seriously, voice low and a bit harsh, “there are lines even I do not cross.”

She didn’t look at him, pouring mix over the prepared sugary crust, though her voice was soft when she finally replied.

“I know.” She paused. “But what if you were wrong?”

He stilled, confused by the shift.

“I mean think about it. You just told me she suddenly stopped and the children’s bodies were never found. After her rather,” Caroline’s nose wrinkled, “colorful displays she certainly didn’t seem to be ashamed of her actions. So, perhaps she wasn’t harming the kids, Klaus.”

He shook his head. “Your faith is misplaced, love.”

Caroline finally turned to him an odd expression on her face. She cocked her head looking thoughtful.

“Is it? I think La sorcière de Pierre,” the French easily rolling off her tongue to Klaus’ utter shock, “was just dramatic, not evil.”

Caroline left to relax in the living room, the squares set to bake in the oven, Klaus stood stunned still for several long moments before he bolted after her.

“What did you just say?” He whispered hoarsely.

“They were the monsters, Klaus. Molesters and brutes all.” She spoke this calmly, Old French elongating the vowels of her words.

And Klaus stared, mouth slightly agape, at the woman he had failed to find all those centuries ago.

---

Author’s Note: To my irritation several words in English translate to French with the same spelling which ruins the point. Anyway, this one is “Savior and Executioner” in French. I already used German so despite some Hansel and Gretel similarities it’s French. Apparently there was a similar tale from France circa 1697 so good enough for me!  Plus, I set it in France. So there lol

La sorcière de Pierre = The witch of Pierre

FYI that’s a real charity to aid children, I don’t know how reputable that particular one is, but considering donating to such funds if you have the means.

[heavenslastcrush]

The Legend of Joan

I recently had an incredible opportunity to travel to Antarctica over the New Year’s holiday on the National Geographic Orion. The trip was an unbelievable experience full of adventure, excitement, inspiration, self-discovery… even a little bit of romance.

Traveling and beginning a New Year in a new country has become quite the ritual of mine. It began in 2015 when I went to Australia with my boyfriend. We celebrated New Year’s 2016 on a yacht on the Sydney Harbor, right between the Harbor Bridge and the Opera House.

By the time the end of 2016 came around that boyfriend had become an ex-boyfriend, but I was determined to have just as amazing of a time despite being newly single. I thought about the last time that I was single and really happy, and it occurred to me that it was when I was living in London. So naturally, I needed to return. That year, I went to France & England with a friend I had lived and studied abroad with while in South Kensington. Said friend was also recently single, and also needed to get away. We counted down to midnight and welcomed the beginning of 2017 on a yacht on the Thames.

For New Year 2018, I needed to one-up myself again and venture to Asia – so I traveled to Thailand and Cambodia and rang in the holiday on the Marriott rooftop in Bangkok, overlooking the city while literally being on top of the world.

Since my traveling tradition also seemed to include being on a different continent, my initial New Year 2019 plan was to travel to Brazil & Argentina. I had an entire itinerary all mapped out – I would first spend a couple of days in Salvador, then venture over to Rio. Next I would travel down to Buenos Aires to actually celebrate New Year’s, and then spend a few more days at Iguazu Falls. I would bookend my trip with about 4 days in Patagonia.

I thought I was so clever, planning out such a great vacation.

Funny how life happens while you are busy making plans.

It turns out that I couldn’t find anyone to go with me on this adventure. I asked my parents, siblings, old friends, new friends… I even put a message on Facebook to see if I could get any random connections to join me. But alas, my efforts were fruitless.

It was critical that I still go somewhere, but I wasn’t quite brave enough to venture to Brazil solo. I typically have no issues traveling alone, but everyone that I have ever talked to about Brazil was in agreement that it is not super safe for anyone to travel to, let alone by one’s lonesome, and especially as a single female.

Where could I go that would be safe? That would still put me on a new continent? That I could travel to alone?

I googled a map of the world. I revisited the list of countries I’ve already explored on my “Been” app. And, as I was sitting there (admittedly at the office, being distracted by this sometime in early-October, which is super late in the game to be planning an international excursion, by the way), I glanced at the very bottom of this Google map image at a thin strip of white with a small area jutting out.

Antarctica?

Hmm…

Well, it was on my bucket list to visit all 7 continents before I died. I guess it would make sense to try to go to Antarctica now while I’m still young and could tolerate small amounts of cold.

I started Googling more about the continent.

Population?: 4K.

Yeah, that seems pretty safe.

Photos?

Oh, well these look pretty cool. Lots of penguins. Penguins are legit.

“Alright”, I thought, “I guess I could do Antarctica”. Next I needed to figure out how to get there.

Initially, I wanted to visit the tip and see things like Deception Island. But, I also wanted to go to the South Pole. Just to say I’ve been there.

Turns out, you can’t really fly into Antarctica. (Well, I suppose you can, if you are a billionaire and really bored). It also turns out, that there isn’t all that much in the middle of the continent, and that the most interesting animals and sights are actually on the edges. Cruises were recommended galore.

As with any other Google search I always begin with “Best [insert whatever it is I want to do/explore/see/etc.]”.

So, I type in “Best Antarctica Cruises” and scroll down until I find a link where some company isn’t trying to sell me something.

I found a Conde Nast Traveller article that gave me all kinds of details on what to look for in an Antarctica Cruise. (Here’s the link if you are interested: https://www.cntraveller.com/article/best-antarctica-cruises). In this article, they recommend either the National Geographic Orion or the Silver Explorer.

“I can be on a National Geographic ship?!” SOLD. HERE’S ALL OF MY MONEY.

I’m totally kidding, I did a little more research first.

I found that National Geographic actually had two ships at the recommended size, with reputable crews, Zodiac boats on board, etc. One was the National Geographic Orion. The other was the National Geographic Explorer.

Both were fully booked.

But, I sent an inquiry to Lindblad Expeditions anyway (Lindblad & Nat Geo are in a partnership together for these expeditions) to see if these were actually fully booked, or what my chances would be to get on this ship in two months. I also wanted to know more about pricing.

The short version of this part is that a single cabin costs a small fortune. But, there was an option to share a cabin if I were willing, at a reduced rate. There weren’t any shared cabins available, but they would put me on a waiting list.

I like money, so I asked them to put me on the waiting list. And also, to please let me know if there was any way to obtain more of a discount.

A couple of weeks later, a shared cabin became available. However, when I got this notification, I was in San Jose at Twitch Con 2018. I was pretty distracted by how awesome that experience was, and I didn’t pay the cabin fee (which they require you to pay the full fare within 24 hours) in time and lost out on that cabin.

When I got back to New Jersey, I was crushed that I missed out on the opportunity. I called the company to see if they could put me back on the waiting list again, spoke to a lovely woman named Catalina, and as luck would have it another shared cabin had just become available.

BUT, this cabin cost 10% more than the previous one.

“So, Ms. Horner, would you like the cabin?”, she asked me.

I tried to see if there was any possible way to get it at a discounted rate, or if she thought another cabin at the lower rate would become available again.

“I really don’t think so, this expedition is departing in less than six weeks. It’s unlikely that passengers will cancel as they are out of the time period where they would receive any sort of refund. So, would you like the cabin?”, Catalina pressed again.

After the deepest breath of my life, I responded “Yes, I would, please.”, scurried over to get my wallet, and made the largest single transaction I’ve ever completed in my life. (Seriously, I could have bought a car for less).

“Is there anything else I can do for you today, Ms. Horner?”, Catalina asked.

“Actually, I know you can’t tell me the exact demographics of passengers on the ship. But, are you able to tell me if there are any solo travelers around my age that will be on board?”

“Actually”, she began, “because this expedition is taking place over the holiday there are many families going. We expect more of a diverse age range than usual.”

I thanked Catalina and got off the phone with her.

I was going to Antarctica.

In the weeks leading up to the trip, I had assumed that my roommate would be geriatric and feeble. I knew it would be a female, but I thought it would be some little old lady, maybe on the edge of death, that wouldn’t be able to use her camera or a computer and that would be up all hours of the evening doing whatever the elderly do in the middle of the night.

Fast forward to December 26, 2018. I’ve made it to Santiago, have already spent a few days exploring the area, and am now at Hotel Santiago which is the National Geographic-commissioned hotel where all of the passengers are staying before leaving the next morning to Ushuaia on the charter flight.

When I arrived, there was a small reception of cocktails and hors d’oeuvres taking place for the passengers. I met a few folks including Mack, a lawyer from Baton Rouge, LA (who would later ultimately be my next-door cabin neighbor); Peter, a Scottish man who was part of the staff on the expedition and one of the divers on-board; and Tia, a beautiful entrepreneur from England.

I thought this would be as good of a time as any to try to meet my roommate, but alas, she was no where to be found.

After the reception, I needed to rearrange my luggage so I went to the hotel room. At this point I hadn’t streamed in a few days and knew I would have a stable internet connection so I decided to stream a bit.

Right in the middle of the stream, that’s when I met Joan.

Joan.

What can I even say about Joan?

Well, she was definitely old. 81 in fact. But, from the second I met her, I could tell this was no ordinary lady. And while she may have been “old” in age, she was anything but old in spirit or energy.

Joan is fearless.

Joan is a badass.

Joan is my spirit animal.

Joan is my role model.

Joan is my adopted grandmother.

Joan is one of my best friends.

Throughout my trip, I spent a lot of time with Joan. Not only were we roommates, but we also shared several meals and several drinks together. Here’s some of what I learned about her:

·         She lives in California.

·         She got married when she was 21 years old, and had a long 49 year marriage.

·         She has two daughters, and one grandson.

·         She was formerly an accountant.

·         Her husband passed away several years ago.

·         She takes college classes! (Over 7 per term in fact, which is more than most college kids!)

·         She has traveled to over 70+ countries.

But of all the things I learned about Joan, it all pales in comparison to what I learned from Joan.

Joan was one of the brightest lights on the ship. By the time we were leaving Ushuaia, she knew just about everyone on board, and everyone new her. I feel like she and I had this in common, but it was a great reminder, that no matter how old you get, or how successful you become, you should never be above saying “hello” and seeking out genuine connections with those around you. Relationships make the world go-round.

I mentioned this already before, but it’s worth reiterating: Joan was a fearless badass. Her attitude towards life was incredible. There was one point on the trip where we had the opportunity to jump into the Southern Ocean. (In case you are wondering, the water was a balmy 34*F.) There were people of all ages on this trip, but only about half of the people on the trip actually leapt in. Joan was of them. While I heard countless people talking about how “crazy” jumping in was, or their fear of “freezing up”, “losing their breath”, “going into shock”, etc. I heard Joan overwhelming with enthusiasm about the opportunity. At one point, another lady on the trip, probably in her late 30’s or early 40’s asked Joan if she was concerned about getting hurt by jumping in. Joan’s calm response was “Well, if that happens, then my kids can have an early inheritance, but I’m going in”. Badass.

This woman then proceeded to try to talk Joan out of it a bit, and Joan just shook that notion off and headed to the stern where we were all jumping.

Believe it or not, Joan actually jumped in before I did. I wanted her to go first, because I wanted to be able to watch it happen. (And by this point I was so enamored with her, that if heaven-forbid something did happen, I would have dived in after her). I started a cheer before she dove, and 100 passengers all chanted along in unison with me “JOAN! JOAN! JOAN!”.

Right before she dove in our expedition leader, Doug, pulled her aside and said “If you can’t pull yourself out, don’t jump in.”

I saw her hesitate, just for a second. I could see the wheels turning in her head. Thinking about whether or not she would have the strength to climb up the ladder afterwards. A second was all that look lasted for.

“I can do it. I’m going to do it.”

And then she jumped.

81 year old badass, all the way in the Southern Ocean.

You know that feeling you might get when your favorite sports team wins the Super Bowl? Or the World Cup? That’s how I felt watching Joan pull herself out of the ocean. I was so floored by her. Badass, I’m telling you.

In that singular instance, I learned so much from Joan. I learned that you are never too old to be fearless. That you must always believe in yourself. And, that sometimes, you just have to take a leap, even when other people doubt your abilities. Because taking those risky leaps, lead to great experiences, and even better stories.

As Joan and I spent more time together, she became one of my best girlfriends. We would come back to the room in between lectures, or after dinner, and just gossip about guys on the ship, crazy stories from the day, or how ridiculous people are.

I swear Joan got more action and romance on the ship than just about anyone that ever sailed on the National Geographic Orion.

One evening, I made it back from dinner before Joan did and was in the bathroom when she came in yelling (rather loudly for a little old lady, might I add), “HEATHER, I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU!”

Now, there was this guy on the ship, and I thought he was pretty attractive or whatever, so I thought she was going to tell me something about him, but was a little bit puzzled as to why she was this excited about whatever it was.

I came out of the bathroom in a hurry. “What?”, I said, “What happened?! What’s going on?!”

“I just got proposed to!”

“Wait… WHAT?!”

Joan just stood there staring at me, eyes wide, with a big smile. This was the look of a perfect blend of shock, amusement, and hysteria.

“By who?”, I questioned.

“ROD!!”

“Who’s Rod?!”, I questioned again.

“That old man!”

Ahh. I knew the one she was referring to. There was an old man on the ship who was business partners with Tia. He was 76, from England and wildly successful in his career.

“Wait, was he serious?”, I asked.

“Well, I don’t know. He sounded serious.”, Joan replied.

“Did he like get down on one knee or anything?”

“No, he just asked me from the far side of the dining room table.”

“Well, what did you say?!”, I asked. I really couldn’t tell if her tone was excitement from being newly engaged or shock at how ridiculous and preposterous such an inquiry was from someone she had only met a few days prior.

You know those times when you ask someone a question, and their reply is a firm indicator that your question was utterly absurd because they reply not only with their voice, but their full entity? This was one of those times.

“I said ‘NO!’, OF COURSE!!”

I couldn’t help but hysterically laugh. Here was my roommate, 81 years old, shining gem of the Orion, fearless badass, of course she would be getting proposed to.

“Well, I don’t know, Joan! Maybe this could be your second chance at love or something. But, that wasn’t a very good proposal.”, I managed to say in between gasping for air between chuckles.

“Listen, I am too old to be training another man. I don’t have time for all that.”

I erupted again.

Oh, Joan. You slay.

In that moment, I learned from Joan that independence is ageless, and no matter how old you get: you don’t need no man. (**triple snap, z-formation**) Sometimes I wish those trolls in Twitch chat egging me on about a boyfriend could spend 5 minutes with Joan. I think she could whip them into shape.

At the very end of the trip, once we started to head back to Ushuaia from Antarctica, Joan had booked a massage in the Wellness Center. We had a pretty chill day full of lectures, parsing through photos, and just enjoying the company of each other and all of our new friends on the ship.

The following day Joan’s back was bothering her a little bit. We wondered if it was because of a rather rocky Drake Passage the prior evening, all the hiking during the trip, or something else entirely.

After lunchtime, Joan found me in the room as I was swapping out my camera memory cards. “I got a massage.”, she told me.

Now, Joan is pretty sharp. I had never had to tell her anything twice, and she always remembered everything I told her. So, I was a bit puzzled as to why she was telling me again about her massage.

“I know”, I replied. “Yesterday morning… or, did you get another one?”

“I got a massage from Ian.”, Joan said with a sly smile.

Ahh, yes, Ian. Ian was the hotel manager on the ship. A tall, handsome, proper gentleman from South Africa.

Joan continued, “Now, if he proposed, that might be something to consider.”

Cracking me up again.

Even then, I learned from Joan, that while independence is ageless, so is romance. You can have either, or you can have both. But, the beauty in it is that you get to choose.

I was with Joan for 12 days. In those 12 days, we grew a deep and very special bond.

Joan taught me many things, but probably the greatest lesson that she taught me, or at least reminded me of, was that there is SO MUCH to live for, no matter your age or status in life, and that you can find friendship and family anywhere you go. So, always be kind to those around you, because you just might meet someone that touches your soul and that will remain a treasured part of you forever.

Joan, I love you, chica.

[ayehatethis]

Family ties

A/N: this is partially inspired by my love of Mully and partially of my own family. It’s not really fluff, but it’s not smut either.. just a short little blurb.

Growing up, my family was incredibly close. Any excuse to get together there would be a party. Whether it be a birthday, anniversary, holiday, or just a random Sunday afternoon. We were always together. I always had a bunch of aunts, uncles, and cousins running around and they were truly the village that the metaphor spoke of in ‘it takes a village to raise a child’. Each of my aunts was like a second mother, each uncle a second father and all of my cousins like siblings.

 My grandparents were the glue that held it together. Having a family of nearly 45 people definitely had its perks. But it also had its hardships. But my grandparents made sure that everyone felt loved and welcomed. Even if you weren’t actually related, you instantly became family when you walked through their door. They loved each of us equally but individually and it felt like a warm cocoon every time we were together.

Anytime anything happened where someone was sick, or injured, we were all there. 45 people crowding around a hospital bed passing a smuggled in bottle of liquor around the room or tossing sandwiches over the injured person became regular. We knew we were strong together and nothing could change that.

Until the last hospital stay. The last coma and the last sandwich tossed. We got older, we got angrier, and we got busier. No longer had time for one another unless it benefited us. As I grew older and my morals changed, their opinion of me changed as well. I was no longer one of the team, I was an outsider and unwelcome. Staring in at the party through the window uninvited.

What changed? My grandparents loving embrace was gone. Both passed and the pain of it all turned us against one another. Any chance they could get to tear one another down, they did. And when they kept treating me like a stranger on the street, I stopped pretending to care anymore.

I had moved on with my life. Got a job, met a boy, and fell in love. He became my family. He had an amazing group of friends and family around him constantly that reminded me of what I used to be a part of and I immediately felt welcome in his circle.

And I’ve been incredibly happy.

 My fiancé, Niall is quite a bit famous and we decided early on we didn’t want to acknowledge or publicize our relationship until we both knew we were serious. We didn’t need the press or anything getting into our relationship. And we’d gotten pretty good at staying off each other’s social media and the fans just thinking I was a friend of a friend that occasionally frequented the same parties. We never took pictures together or spoke to one another in public.

When he proposed a month ago, it begun our conversation on how and when to announce it to the world. Do we share a picture on Instagram of us together? Just the ring? Maybe call one of his friends he’s made in the business over the years? Maybe announce it on his James Corden appearance later this month, as a surprise to even the host.

Were currently sitting in a meeting room at his management company deciding the best way for this to happen. I hate this. I have how they control every aspect of his life even down to this, although I understand. They’ve gone over the pros and cons of everything a ridiculous amount of times before I actually fall asleep, my arm slipping out from under my head creating a thud on the table and startling me awake.

‘Pet, are you okay?’ he asks rubbing the side of my head where I hit the table.

‘Yeah sorry, this is boring. Why can’t we just do this our way without a bunch of other people’s opinions? Sorry guys, but none of you are in this relationship, we’ve heard your advice, I think you can leave us to decide.’

‘You heard the woman.’ He says to the crowd at the other end of the table before they all grab their useless paperwork and leave the room.

‘I don’t know how you do this all the time Ni, I just love you and want to finally be able to share that with the world. People are starting to think I made this boyfriend thing up.’ I laugh.

‘I know, me too. You just need to prepare yourself for people from your past to come out of the woodwork like you wouldn’t believe. People you haven’t talked to in ages will pretend you’ve been close for ever and they’re going to try to get something out of us. I just want you to be prepared.’ He warns me, grabbing my hands and holding them tightly in his.

‘Okay, so what do we do first?’ I question him.

‘First, we make sure ALL of your social media’s are private. Take off anything embarrassing, google your name and see if anything terrible comes up, and we get it removed. I just want you to be safe.’ He explains standing up and holding out his hand to me to take.

I stand up and follow him out the door and through the halls to the parking garage and into his car.

‘How long does that take?’ I ask after a few minutes.

‘Not long, I just need to make a call.’

He calls back one of his management team and explains our plan to scour the internet for information on me and clear anything incriminating. He tells the man on the phone we’ll change all passwords and privacy settings once we get home and he informs us he’ll call us in a few hours to proceed.

‘There. We’re in motion.’ He grabs my hand with his free hand and kisses my knuckles. ‘Are you ready for this, pet?’

‘I think so, but I’m still nervous.’

‘You’ll be fine. Oh and to let you know, anywhere you go from now on, I’m going to have someone with you just in case.’

We pull into the driveway of his Laurel Canyon home and I laugh, thinking this will soon be my home. Just a small town girl from the middle of nowhere living in a LA mansion with the man of my dreams. I never thought I’d end up here.

The next morning, a secretary calls Niall and informs him that all is well on their end and we can proceed as long as we’ve done our part. He hangs up and sits next to me on the couch. We start scrolling through his phone to find the perfect picture. We figure if we post just a photo of the ring, there’s going to be speculation and nonstop hassling of him until they know who I am, so a shot of the two of us for his Instagram is what we decide on.

I’ll post a photo of my ring to my couple of dozen friends on my now private account and he picks a photo of us taken from the night we got engaged. He had asked me in the backyard of his home over a home-cooked, candle-lit dinner. It was simple and perfectly Niall.

He had asked his roommate to take a few photos of the moments leading up to, during, and after because he knows I am ‘sentimental like that’.

He chooses a photo of him kneeling in front of me and captions it, ‘The Search is Over’. He looks at me with a grin and asks if I’m ready. I respond by clicking the ‘post’ button on his phone and grin back at him.

We decide to try to stay off of social media for a few days to let the news sink. I’ve not touched my phone since the day of the meeting and after what Niall had warned me about people coming out of the woodwork, I’m afraid to look. A week later I look at my phone to find nearly thousands of follow requests, friend requests and calls from people who were angry I kept this from them. He hadn’t even told them my name or any of my usernames so I’m not sure how they figured out it was me, but these girls could run the FBI, so it’s not surprising.

I delete most of them, other than the friends of Niall’s I’ve met and am now can publicly acknowledge. There are some from his family, and his bandmates and their families. I delete most, if not all of the fan requests and there’s 7 that remain that I stare at for apparently too long of a time because Niall comes and sits next to me, also staring at my phone.

‘Who are those people? You know them?’ he asks

‘You were right. Three are aunts, two cousins, someone I graduated high school with, and someone I was friends with in college.’ I say blankly.

‘You don’t have to accept. You can delete or ignore them, its okay. We’ve been together three years and I’ve never heard any of their names. How important are they?’ he asks and walks away.

He is 100 percent right. I delete them and set the phone down. I try to forget about it when my phone dings signaling a message request. I look at the name, recognizing it from one of the seven I’d deleted.

Hey, y/n haven’t spoken to you in a while, didn’t know you were rubbing elbows with the rich and famous. Maybe we can come visit you sometime? Don’t forget our invite to the wedding.

Love, Joan

‘UGH’ I scream and toss the phone to the couch, prompting Niall to run into the room.

He sees my phone which landed on the floor, picks it up, and reads the message.

‘We’re you going to reply to this?’ he asks

‘Only if I can tell her to fuck off’ I joke.

He laughs and runs out of the room, ‘hang on babe, I got you.’

He must be getting better responses than I am. I check his Instagram on my phone to find mostly positive responses. A few people calling me names, but what’s new.

He returns with his roommate Mully in tow, asking me, ‘You hated these people cause they treated you like shit right?’

I nod as I continue pacing the living room.

He grabs my phone turning on the video camera. He turns the camera to Mully and yells ‘HEY MULLY’ to which his friend responds, ‘FUCK OFF!’ and runs out of the room.

‘NIALL JAMES HORAN, I cannot actually send that!’

He collapses into a fit of laughter on the couch, ‘No, but it’s a nice thought.’

I sit down next to him and rest my head on his shoulder.

‘Besides,’ he continues, ‘if they start saying shit about you, you’ve got something prepared to send them.’ He laughs and ducks as I hit the back of his head with my hand.

‘NIALL, NO.’ I yell and he collapses into another fit of giggles.

[srlkiller]

today was a lot. i had a 1on1 therapy thing that was supposed to be like an INTRO TO UR RECOVERY WOO!!! LETS GET UR MENTAL HEALTH IN CONTROL!!! But instead it turned into me having 4 panic attacks constantly crying while venting to a social worker in a room w no air con for 2 hours about ‘how my month has been’ and ‘why i haven’t been attending any of my group therapy?’ well sue sweetie.. u asked me…n boy did i give u the answer ur career as a social worker has been WAITING 4!! then i got my 1st covid shot & briefly spoke to my doctor who was rude asf so i was like ok today fucked. Centrelink also called me and told me wrong info which fucked me over. then i see my dad calling and im like OFC HE IS!!massive fight as per n he hangs up but then continues via text bc hes petty asf.

BUT not as petty as my mom bc that is literally how the fight started. bc of her. like this bitch omg. she purposely runs off to my dad and tells him every little thing i do ‘wrong’ bc she knows his temper and how afraid i am of him due to past events so she uses him to basically do her dirty work for her n ‘scare me’. like that’s how manipulative and fucked up she is in the head. she made up a whole ass lie and told my dad that i said to my mom the only reason i was trying to stay in contact with my dad was so that i remain in his will as like the sole beneficiary or whatever….. how sick and twisted must you be to lie to someone directly in their face about something so serious INVOLVING UR OWN CHILD that you share with that person????? i would NEVER! say that about my dad. EVER. this happened months ago btw. as soon as i spoke about it w my dad and i was like “what.. dad i would never say that you know i don’t give a fuck about money like that i don’t care about your will why would i even be thinking about your will?” he was like wait actually that’s fucked up ur right. It was actually HER who made that comment. she got my dad to go and fix fencing at my nans house for free (using him) n my dad mentioned he had a girlfriend. my mum came home & SAID TO ME “u better hurry up and get in ur dads good books now that he has a gf.. before she gets a hold of his will and u end up w nothing” and i simply told her that my dad would never take me off his will regardless so why say that to me. once she got exposed she backtracked and was like “oh it was just a joke” & both my dad and I were both saying that even as a joke how is that funny? how does your mind even start to think in that way? how is this funny to you? then she flips it. her scripts are so repetitive now that ive caught on that i can actually predict what she’s gonna say before she opens her mouth. she manipulates u into thinking ur reality isn’t correct.. saying things like “ omg ur over reacting lol ur so dramatic no wonder no one takes u seriously in life, grow up, i have no idea what ur going on about, have u taken ur medication for the day, have u lost it, are u high on something?” like what in the fuck?

i never once mentioned anything about anyones will.. when i was younger i made the mistake obviously of telling her that my dad was leaving me his house. when my nans will was getting exposed she became overly obsessed w wills in general and changed hers. im guessing behind my back she has actually taken me off now but i don’t want her dirty ass money which is stolen from my accounts anyway. my nan left all her grandchildren a large sum of money that was supposed to be equally split among us, its now been over a year since my nan passed & i noticed a group text come up on my moms phone from her sisters talking about what they did for their children with that money. one of them paid off their entire hex debt so it must be a substantial amount. i have not seen a cent which means she has taken it for herself, put it in her name and placed it into a secret account without my knowledge. if it’s as much $ as i believe it is, this could seriously help me move out and better my situation which she constantly tells me she wants me to get the fuck out ect. yet you are holding the key to the door in ur hand? that’s twisted and very sick. they fought for a year over my nans money and all i asked for was an old XXXX gold stubby holder that was my grandads bc it was very sentimental to me. instead, they chose to have a garage sale and sold all of my nans things and sold that stubby holder to a random person for 20 cents………. i was in shock when i found out.. and they laughed and were like get over it omg it’s just a stubby holder you can just buy another one. these people are so fucked up but they all made me feel like i was losing my mind my whole life. money isn’t shit without sentiment. i could have given you 20 cents if you need that shit so bad. im only attached partially to these evil ass roaches by some genetics but to me none of them are my family. not once have i ever felt cared for, loved, accepted, safe or happy in their presence. i am only ever wanted when they can gain something from me. that is not family. my grandad was big on family n my nan and my grandad are the only two people i claim as family from my moms side. my nans two blind siblings who i admired & adored + a few of my grandads siblings were the only ones who actually showed interest in getting to know me & didn’t look down on me in any way. i was never considered ‘less than’ or not good enough yet i was the family disappointment to my mom and her sisters. but they have never seen her like i see her. the way she acts in front of family is not the person i know. she’s very good at acting. the way she pretends to be a ‘mother’ in front of her own family is actually scary. she’s like the ultimate con artist except she’s too fucking dumb to actually scam people and get rich off of her ability to manipulate whoever she wants. what a shame ur not intelligent.. that sure must suck huh. my nan gave me that maternal love i never had from my mother and my grandad was always that man who held us all together as a unit. when he got sick everything changed and started to go down hill. they had to give up their entire property, his big beautiful garden and vegetables he was really passionate about, the horses and land ect. my nan planted a rose bush and it grew big and blossomed big red roses and she said this is for you, my little rachel rose 🌹 🥺 she said she wanted to take the whole ass bush w her and replant it 😂 but my grandad was like we are not taking a fucking huge ass rose bush w thorns in the car w us Gloria.. i only remembered this today during that therapy session and i hyperventilated so bad n just started crying.. bc i couldn’t believe my brain had blocked that memory for so long just to recover it now that she’s no longer here to share it with.

i can feel the love my dad has for me even when he’s temperamental.. you can see it in his face and his eyes. when i look at my mom i try desperately to find some sort of just fucking anything and… i see nothing. i can tell that she doesn’t feel anything. but she does for other children. just not me. so i know she isn’t a heartless bitch and is capable of emotions of all sorts.. but anything to do with me it’s almost like im invisible or she cannot see fault in her self. she cannot in any way accept anything she has ever done, she has never said the words ‘I’m sorry’ for anything ever in life involving me, she has stood by (literally stood and watched) while her own sisters verbally abused me as a minor calling me out my name AND one even texted my best friend at the time who was about 14 saying that i was a bitch. meaning my mom gave my aunt my friends number to text that message.. my friends mom was livid about this bc what grown ass woman texts a random 14 year old girl paragraphs of shit like that swearing at them and saying that their friend is a rude ungrateful bitch. her mom reacted as a mother should. as i would love my mother to stick up for me just once in life.. u kno.. ever? i still remember my first SUI attempt at like 16 after being abused and this person told me they were leaving and coming back so i had about a 10 min window of time and i panicked as any 16 young girl home alone would.. i called my mom for help bc ur parents are supposed to protect you. her wording was “well what did u do to make him hit you?” “you know that you deserved that”. i was in disbelief that she would react like that.. she was talking so calmly while i was crying hysterically having a panic attack telling her this man was coming back in 10 mins asking her to please help me.. and all she could say was.. “you probably deserved it”. ive never been the same since then tbh. im not blessed enough to be a parent yet, i may never be.. but i know for a fucking FACT that i would NEVER say any of the shit that she says to me to ANY child let alone MY OWN?!?

you had me at 36 years old. you had time to think about this and evaluate whether you thought you would be able to care for a child and make a good parent. If you “didn’t want to deal with me” then you had other options.. you could have sent me to foster care, you could have adopted me out, you could aborted me, shidddd you could have mf swallowed me bitch let’s be real. no, you chose to have a child. there’s no 18 year contract.. she loves to play that card. “UR AN ADULT NOW”, what about me makes me an adult, my age makes me an adult to you? yet you’ve kept me so childlike, so codependent & haven’t taught me basic life skills despite me asking to learn. like im deadass watching YouTube videos to teach myself basic ass life skills… that is sad as fuck. when im 48… guess what??? i am still your child and unfortunately for me!! you are STILL my parent. there’s no changing that bc you made that choice. you can’t just b like yeah i change my mind nvm i want to return it…… like that is really her attitude. i was born with a lot of health issues that have escalated a lot and only continue to get worse with age both mental and physical. guess what tho… if ur child is born with defects u don’t get to just b like omg ew i don’t want it now this one’s too difficult. like trust me.. if i was one of those lil sperm rn i am not about to fertilise u for NOTHING if this is the consequence I’d rather jus keep on swimming lmao.

[wine-anon]

99 and 183 with Zoe x reader?

a/n: I’m so excited to write this request haha, it fits so well. Thanks for the request. This isn’t full nsfw but it gets a little steamy. I did a gender neutral reader, hope that’s okay. I chose to have Connor in this but he’s a little OOC.

Prompt: “This was fun— Lets do it again sometime!” and “Car sex looks so much more easier in the movies.”

Zoe nervously ran her hands down her skirt for the fifteenth time in the past ten minutes. She had spent an hour picking out the perfect outfit for her first date with you. You’d asked her out a few days ago when you were eating lunch. She was beyond nervous because she’d had a crush on you for the longest time.

“Zoe,” her mother knocked on the door to her bedroom, “(y/n) is here. Are you ready, sweetie?”

“I’ll be down in a second,” Zoe took a shaky breath and grabbed her purse off the nightstand before checking herself in the mirror one last time, “you can do this Zoe,” she whispered to herself.

She made her way out of the room and down the hall towards the stairs. She halted at the top, her nerves getting the best of her. Connor appeared next to her, she was too busy worrying to notice that he’d come out of his room. 

“I can’t believe that (y/n) asked you out,” Zoe sent him a scared look which prompted him to change what he said, “I just mean, they’ve wanted to ask you for so long. I’m happy they finally did, you two would be good together.”

Zoe appreciated the effort he had begun putting in. A year ago the two Murphy siblings wouldn’t have had a conversation that didn’t involve angrily yelling at each other. Something inside Connor changed a few months ago and he started to put in effort with all of his relationships, he even got friends, (y/n) was one of those new friends.

“I can’t do this, Con,” Zoe was beyond scared that (y/n) wouldn’t like her and she couldn’t find the courage to walk down the stairs.

“You’ll be fine, you can do anything,” a reassuring hand landed on her shoulder and Connor gave her a small smile, “and besides, if you don’t get down there quickly Larry might talk their ear off and we don’t need that.”

“Thank you, Connor,” she was genuinely happy that Connor was trying to help. Then it struck her, (y/n) was down stairs alone with her parents. Zoe ran quickly down the stairs, thankful that she wore converse instead of the heels she was considering. She found (y/n) standing awkwardly in the kitchen talking to Larry and Cynthia. (y/n)’s eyes flicked up to look at Zoe who stood in all her glory in the kitchen entrance, the girl was a sight to behold and it made (y/n) weak nearly every time they looked at her.

“Well, mum and dad,” Zoe grabbed (y/n)’s hand and began leading them towards the front door, “we’d better get going. Reservations and that. We’ll be back by ten. Bye!”

With that they both stood outside the Murphy’s house holding hands.

“Thanks, Zoe,” (y/n) chuckled, walking to their car that was parked on the curb, “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t have come then. You ready to go?”

Zoe nodded as (y/n) opened the passenger door, letting Zoe get in before shutting the door and running to the driver’s side. 

(Y’all ready for a point of view change???)

You’d been so nervous to ask Zoe on a date, you almost didn’t. If it wasn’t for Connor then you would never have asked. You spent every hour of the days leading up to the date thinking about how you could make it perfect. You settled for a small picnic dinner and stargazing at the newly reopened orchard. You were confident that it would be something Zoe would love but the second you saw how beautiful she looked, all confidence you had left you.

So, there you sat, you drove to the orchard not saying a single thing. The tension was awkward but you didn’t really know how to fix it. You glanced at Zoe for a moment to see her fiddling with her hands, her face was red. You almost breathed audibly in relief when you realised she was just as nervous as you were.

“I thought that we’d have a picnic at the apple orchard,” you gulped when you saw her look at you from your periphery, “they reopened it a few weeks back and it’s open until late. Is that okay?”

“Y-yeah, that sounds like fun,” she smiled wide at you, “I haven’t been back the orchard since it closed.”

With those few words the tension was broken and you two talked the whole way to the orchard. The conversation stopped when you parked your car at the front gates.

“Come on, there’s something I want to show you,” you got out of the car and grabbed the small basket and blanket from your boot. You took Zoe’s hand as she stood looking through the gates of the apple orchard. She smiled at you as you pulled her through the fields to the hill that sat in the middle of the grounds. The two of you made it to the top of the hill and you set up the picnic blanket.

“It’s beautiful,” Zoe gasped as she took in the view. The hill sat high enough to overlook the country fields to west and you had timed it perfectly to coincide with the sun setting. The reds and oranges of the sky blended with purples and the sky looked as though it had been painted.

“I’m glad you like it,” you laughed, “I planned this down to a second so that I could get the timing for the sunset right.”

She looked back at you with astonishment in her eyes. You wished you had a camera so that you could keep that look with you forever, but your mind was going to have to be good enough to do that instead.

“You really though of everything, huh?” she motioned to the picnic food that you’d payed out for you two to share and you laughed again, nodding with a flushed face.

“I wanted this to be perfect,” you looked down shyly, your confidence waning once more.

“I think it’s wonderful,” she grabbed your hand. The two of you stared at each other for a while, just drinking in the moment. Zoe then leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your lips, which caused your eyes to widen. You certainly weren’t expecting it but it was pleasant and you leaned into it. You kissed her back softly. When you broke apart, you shared a moment of light laughter and began to eat. The conversation was light and it flowed so naturally, that it felt like you’d known each other forever.

The sun dipped past the horizon and the stars began to appear, scattered across the sky in their beautiful way. 

“Did you want to just look at the stars for a while?” you asked her, not sure what else to ask, “or did you want to go home?”

“I certainly don’t want to go home. This has been incredible and I never want it to end,” she was so sincere that it made your heart melt at how wonderful she was, “though I had another idea of what we could do?”

Your confused face made her giggle, you had no clue what she was talking about. Though, the moment she kissed you, harder than before, you caught on to what she was suggesting.

“Oh,” it took you a moment to really understand what she meant, “Oh! Well, that’s certainly something I can help out with.”

You packed up the picnic as quickly as you could and Zoe giggled as she pulled you back to your car. There was thankfully no one else around the orchard, something that you noted as you shoved the basket back into your boot. Zoe had opened the back door to your can and stood waiting for you to close the boot. She then gently shoved you into the back seat and climbed in after you. As soon as the door closed behind her, Zoe latched her lips onto yours. The two of you continued to make out as you buried your hands into her hair. She softly moaned into your mouth as she ground herself down onto you.

“A-are you sure about this?” you gasped as her lips moved down from your lips to your neck, “I mean, like, in my car and all? With me?”

Shocked, Zoe lifted her head to tell you that she wanted this more than anything and that it didn’t matter where it was, as long as it was with you she didn’t care.

Sadly she didn’t get to say that as she moved up too quickly and hit her head on the roof of your car, hard. You clambered up from your back as best as you could with Zoe on your lap and cradled her to your chest. She let out a sniff, which you thought meant that she was crying.

“Are you okay?” you panicked when she didn’t answer, “oh my god! Please don’t be concussed because I don’t know how to explain this to your parents, or to Connor. Oh god, Connor’s gonna kill me.”

Zoe’s shoulders began to shake and you panicked even more. She lifted her head to look at you when you realised she was laughing not crying and you let out a breath of relief. 

“Car sex looks so much more easier in the movies,” she spoke between giggles, “you thought that I got a concussion from that little hit on the head.”

“I was seriously worried,” you managed to get out between laughs. The two of you laughed for a minute before stopping to stare at each other with flushed faces and swollen lips.

“Are you okay? For real?” you asked with concern.

“I’m fine, I promise it wasn’t as bad as it looked.”

You kissed her again softly, it was full of passion but it wasn’t as heated as the previous one. Turning your head to see the clock on your dashboard, you noticed how late it had gotten. Time seemed to slip past at an alarming rate and your heart sunk when you realised that you needed to take Zoe home.

“I have to get you home,” you whispered, “I promised your dad that you’d be back by ten and it takes an about hour to get back to your house from here.”

The look on Zoe’s face made your heart hurt a little, she seemed so disappointed and that was the last thing you wanted her to be.

“Hey, don’t be sad, please,” you begged gently, “this was fun— Let’s do it again sometime. Okay? I’ll take you out tomorrow, if you’ll let me.”

“I would love that,” her smile made your heart race and face flush red. She kissed you again and clambered into the front passenger seat.

You got out of the car, only to get back into the driver’s seat. You felt around your pockets and realised that you couldn’t feel your keys. Your face drained of colour and Zoe looked at you curiously, she gently asked you what was wrong.

“I think I left my keys on the hill back in the orchard.”

Sorry this took me a little bit to get out, been a busier day than I expected. Hope you like it!

[lovefortvmoviekillersandpsychos]

Red Queen ( Jervis x OC )

Against my better judgment, I have decided to post this imagine. To clear the air, it is clear the Jervis did *cough* does *cough* have romantic feelings for his baby sister, Alice. So, I thought, why not introduce another sister into the scenario and see how it plays out. So, without further ado……

Warning : mentions of incest, implied incest, cursing, depression

Her eyes were glued to the stage as she watched her brother perform his hypnotic magic. She had seen it hundreds of times a million different ways, but he never ceased to fascinate her. His hat that she designed for him. The suit she picked for him. The act she helped him decide on. She wore a red and black Victorian style dress with a corset and lace red gloves. She loves the color red.

They were on their way back to Gotham to follow a lead on their little sister. Jervis and Sylvia Tetch had been moving from city to city for years. Sometimes she took part in his show as a guest from the audience, other times she simply watched. Before Alice was born, the two were inseparable as twins, Jervis being only two minutes older. They would have been born sooner had Sylvia been born first but her was I’m the was and they were three days late. They were too close in their parents eyes. Their obsession with magic and constant need to be in each others company worried their parents. Their worry was justified the night the died. The night they found their two eldest children doing more than brother and sisterly things. Alice never knew. She never knew that her two siblings were once together or that they caused their parents death.

Sylvia loved her baby sister once. When she was little and needed guidance. But when Jervis pushed her aside and became infatuated with Alice, Sylvia became vexed. She even helped Alice escape their brother so that she could have him to herself. He never found out because she doesn’t even remember it, a serious bump on the head made sure of it. While Jervis cared for Sylvia and loved her company, he believed that he and Alice were meant to be together.

Jervis has his hypnotic power and Sylvia has her own. It can be called hypnotism, but she prefers to call it seduction. When Jervis stopped showing interest in her romantically, she went off the rails. She does not take rejection well. Sylvia took on lovers, many of which Jervis didn’t approve or care to keep around. Still possessive of her even though he no longer wanted her. While he drove a few of her lovers to kill themselves. Sylvia had a liking for decapitation.  

Her favorite phrase: Off with your head.

While he denied her romantically, Jervis did welcome her affections. She held him a lot and often lay next to him while they slept. She kissed his temple and had herself wrapped around him at nights when they were alone. He welcomed this but always denied her of going further. Embarrassed and feeling rejected, Sylvia would often leave him and go out to a bar where a man or two would hit on her, commenting that the tears on her cheeks were being wasted on a man not worth her time. That’s how her nights of killing usually began. They usually would end with Jervis finding her chopping off a man’s head while in lingère.

Sylvia had a feeling that tonight would be one of those nights because Jervis looked particularly handsome under the lighting. Why did her brother have to be so alluring? He was simply so naturally charming and it made any woman want to have his attention. Sylvia loved every moment he looked at her, even if it wasn’t the same way he used to. His obsession with their sister and her blood was driving him mad even though he claimed that Alice kept him sane. Jervis claimed that Sylvia kept him grounded. Grounded to what he never said. But he did tell her that she made him feel secure.

After the show, Jervis was approached by many women as usual and Sylvia but the inside of her cheek to keep from frowning. Jervis paid them little mind but charmed them still. A few were the women he hypnotized that night. He discussed with Sylvia earlier that he was to con some people out of their money and he was collecting. When the crowd of women thinned, Jervis excused himself and held his arm to Sylvia. She accepted as usual and they made their way to the home of a wealthy patron they had gotten to house them. The patron was in their other home while the two vacated this one. It was large and Jervis had the staff under his control. They shared a room even though there were over five they could have occupied separately. Sylvia helped undress Jervis and he undid her corset he had helped her put on for the night.  

“You do know that these things are not necessary dear sister.”

“But they make me look beautiful brother and it attracts the right attention.”

Jervis tensed,

“No men should look at you like that. You are too good for any man.”

Sylvia’s temper flared,

“Every man is never good enough in your eyes. I have my own needs Jervis, ones that haven’t been met by any man for a long time because you always scare them off and you would just give me some independence, maybe I’d stop being in love with you.”

Jervis stopped undoing the corset and turned Sylvia towards him,

“You keep me grounded Red. But to ground you would cause you pain and I only want the best for you.”

Kissing her forehead, Jervis began to pull out his pocket watch. He could not lose another sister. Sylvia spoke, not seeing his pocket watch at hand,

“Or, if you would have me as yours again, I’d never leave you. Jervis, you know I have never stopped loving you the way you used to love me. You know all that I have done for you and us. I killed our own mother to keep our secret from our sister. I killed so many people just to keep them from taking you away from me. But you didn’t do the same when they threw me into that asylum. I was in there for months. You never came. I got broken out and I found you hundreds of miles away. Did you even look for me?”

Jervis put the watch in his pocket and caressed Sylvia’s face,

“Of course I did. I just looked in all the wrong places. I went through all of your past lovers and nothing connected you to Gotham. Dear sister, I was lost without you. You ground me, keep me from exceeding my limits. You are important to me, just as Alice is too. Our past relationship was beautiful and pure, but it was not meant to be.”

And just like that, her brother broke her heart completely. Sylvia stepped away from her brother and ripped off her corset as she stormed out of the house with tears streaming down her cheeks as she has a hundred times before. Instead of finding a nearby bar where Jervis could easily find her, she hitched a ride with a handsome stranger to Gotham. Unfortunately for Sylvia, the man knew who she was and took her to a facility that conducted human experiments.

Jervis made his way to Gotham six months later. When Sylvia did not return the day after they spoke, he started looking for her. When he couldn’t find her after two days, he went into a frantic panic. Jervis did not understand what he said to make her upset. He stayed in the house waiting for her return but she never did. He repeated in his mind: She always comes back. Jervis was lost. He left the town and searched for Sylvia in all the places once more.

When he arrived in Gotham, he kept his act going. Performing shows and getting information about the city. Who to know and who to avoid. He asked if anyone had seen Sylvia, showed a picture of her and Alice. He missed both of his sisters. When he was in Gotham for nearly two weeks, he grew twitchy. That’s when he met Jim Gordon and he hired him to find his sisters. Showing the man a picture of both of his sisters, he recognized only one, Sylvia.

“This one, with all the red one. That’s the Red Queen.”

Jervis was confused at this revelation,

“Red Queen?”

Jim looked at Jervis questionably,

“Yeah, she used to hang around one of my exes for a while. But she got into some deep stuff when she became a crime boss for a bit. Guess she decided it wasn’t her style and she became a gun for hire. Works under some other crime boss now I presume. Haven’t seen her in months but I have seen bodies with her mark.”

Jervis cocked his head to the side and asked,

“What is her mark?”

Jim rubbed his face,

“Decapitation and using the victims blood to write "Off With Your Head!” on a nearby wall. Some criminals tried to copy her, but she’s stealthy. Knows the city like she was born here…I know that she was admitted to Arkham Asylum about two years ago, but she’s a ghost. I’m sure she was really sweet when you last saw her, but this city changes people. And she might not want to be found, both of them.“

Jim started to give the money back and Jervis sputtered out,

"I need my family back. My baby sister has been missing for years. My twin sister has been gone for months. Without them…I’m lost. Please, at least look. If you find anything I’ll double what I’ll giving you.”

Alice was found first, more like she found Jervis. He was about to have the man who was helping him walk off the ledge of a rooftop.  

“Let him go Jervis!”

Jervis looked elated to see his sister,

“Oh, Alice. Where have you been? I’ve missed you very dearly.”

Alice held a still and relentless gaze,

“I’ve been running from you. And apparently so has Sylvia now.”

Jervis’ eyes lit up,

“Sylvia? Have you seen her? I only lost her recently.”

A figure then dropped seemingly out of the sky and next to Alice. Wearing black leather with red embroidery, her outfit was like a onesie catsuit. Bright red highlighted her midnight black hair and her eyes bright red as well and blazing with fury. She looked even more beautiful than before. Jervis’ eyes bulged in shock and delight,

“Sylvia.”

He called her name so sweetly and he meant it, but she didn’t move. Neither of the sisters did. Jim Gordon was struggling to keep himself from walking over the ledge. Alice repeated herself,

“Let him go!”

Jervis smiled sweetly at Alice,

“You won’t hurt me-”

BANG BANG BANG

Three shots went off and only one grazed Jerivs. Gordon was broken from his trace and Jervis made a run for it. Alice handed Sylvia the gun and went to the ex-cops side. Sylvia sighed and checked how many bullets were left in the gun, she planned to use it later tonight. Her and he sister made eye contact and she smiled,

“Some family reunion huh?”

Alice started to smile back but abruptly stopped when the man handcuffed her to him. By time Alice’s eyes went back to where her sister was, Sylvia was gone. Jervis got Alice and that’s when Sylvia jumped into action. She found them easily, knowing her brothers mind so well. He was drawing blood from their sister, blood her valued very much. She had knocked out the two large oafs before making herself known,

“Let her go Jervis. You’re scaring her. This is no way to treat your sister.”

Jervis only smiled,

“Here we are. Finally! Our family, all together again.”

Sylvia laughed,

“Not for long. I’m not tied up and personally, I don’t want to come back to you and that endless cycle of: I cater to your every need and wish, you tell me you love me; I think I have a chance of things returning to how they were before you fell in love with your even younger sister, you tell me no; I get drunk and kill a few men, you find me, I cater to your every need. It’s a tiring and endless cycle. I realize now that things will never be how they were before. I’ll never feel you inside me again or feel you wrapped around me while I-”

Jervis snapped,

“Enough Sylvia. It was a long time ago.”

“Yes, eight years. Then you wanted Alice. But she is the sister that doesn’t want you. I did and now I’m done. So, I’m here to get my sister away from you. Either give her to me or we’ll do this the fun way, my way.”

Alice’s eyes were bulging. She hadn’t know that her siblings had been together. She knew that were always close and protective of each other but never would have guessed. Looking back, Alice could see it now, in her memories before Jerivs messed with her mind.

“I can’t give her to you Sylvia, but you are more than welcome to join us.”

Sylvia hissed and growled sharply and her eyes flashed red,

“I do not submit or bend the knee to any man. Our sister does not want to be with or with you. GIVE HER TO ME NOW OR I WILL HAVE YOUR HEAD! I WANT MY SISTER!”

Sylvia had snapped. Jervis saw the Red Queen before him now. Her eyes stayed bright red and she began stepping towards him with the look of murder on her face when a gun shot ran out and Jervis ducked in front of Alice. The shot was not aimed at Sylvia thankfully. Harvey and Jim came into view. Sylvia stayed were she was,

“Hey Har, pleasant seeing you here. Business or pleasure?”

Sylvia giggled and twirled twirled piece of hair around her fingers. Harvey looked slightly nervous, he and the Red Queen had become quite acquainted a few months back. The relationship was only trouble seeing as she left him for a guy actually close to her age and started killing people regularly. A gun fight ensued and Jim broke out of the trace Jervis had him under and the two men Sylvia knocked out now stood on either side of her as bullets went flying. Her eyes never blinked, but when she saw Jervis untying Alice, she dropped to the ground and made her way to them. Alice struggled against Jervis who told her he loves her and didn’t understand why she was resisting him. As Sylvia saw Alice loosing her balance on the ledge, she lunged for her but missed and was starting to fall with Alice as well. Sylvia screamed while trying to catch her sister but it was no use. Jervis caught Sylvia on the other hand who passed out at the sight of her now dead sister, impaled by a metal pole. Jervis was frantic and blamed Jim Gordon for Alice.

“You killed her!”

He noticed blood dripping from Sylvia’s side and panicked. Him and his goons fled the scene an Jervis reluctantly dropped Sylvia off at a hospital. As soon as he had both of his sisters with him, they were gone and the madness took over his mind.

Sylvia was treated and glad to awaken to a familiar face. Not Jervis but a fellow assassin, Viktor Zsas. He was her friend, taught her what she needed to know and they may have spent a few nights in a bed together but we’re too drunk to remember. Viktor had her checked out that day and under his protection. Sylvia didn’t mind staying in his hideout, so long as she was away from her brother. Her boyfriend Jerome was dead and Viktor truly cared for her. She felt actually safe with him, but dreaded the day she ran into her brother again.