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janovavalen · 6 months

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—goddamn! ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

aegon II targaryen x niece!reader

ㆍ୨୧ㆍshort story au

—part one — two — three — coming soon

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ summary: the two of aegon and y/n never got along. never—all until aegon catches the oh so wonderful, sweetheart y/n targaryen at a club.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍword count! 4138

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ warnings! drugs (cocaine, alcohol, weed) typical targaryen incest, small obsessive/obsession if you squint, smut, arranged marriage

fix idea from this tt edit <3

this fic will not follow the story line/plot of HOD! although i made up this au, i do not own house of dragon nor do i own the series, books, and characters! all rights go to HBO.

the night was brisk, dark and foggy. but the club was warm, stuffy and loud. aegon and aemond who had been dragged along to a environment he would have never stepped foot into was crowded by the large crowd of drunk and high dancers.

this, this was aegons environment. the fact nobody gave a fuck about what they did and who saw. openly doing drugs, openly fucking in the darkened corners of the room.

drug dealers and their buyers trading in the dance floor or even at the bar itself which wa not shunned upon. here, everyone was who they wanted to be from their shitty roles and life and jobs. free to be openly horny, high and drunk.

‘i wish to leave…desperately.’ aemond tightens his hands around each other as he looked at the the people as he groaned in disgust.

‘loosen up little brother we’ve just arrived. go fuck a whore maybe you’ll loosen up a bit in the body and mind’ aegon smirked while he walked to the bar and made his eyes dance over the females who smiled and blushed at him. flattering their way not only to his pockets but what’s behind his pants.

licking his bottom lips as he perched his forearms along the dark black counter of the bar. the bartender behind it was a woman who wore a skintight red dress and dark makeup with blonde hair that's curly and messy.

‘hi darling what would you like?’ she asked. her voice is smooth and sweet.

‘give me the strongest you got baby, make it cold, okay?’ he tilted his head a bit with a pinned up eyebrow and a small smile. she smiled back and nodded slowly while turning around, making sure she pressed her butt.

he noticed of course. he was a man who noticed any and everything a female tried and would offer him. their body, their mind, their purity. he wasn’t one to ask for it more of received it when they put forth into it. giving up everything they believed to fulfill the overbearing lust.

he did the same. with lust, alcohol, sometimes drugs even but he never gave a second thought about it because who really would when they’re happy with what they’re doing.

happy, to get away from possibilities, family, emotions that they don’t even understand.

a little later, the woman placed down the drink, the coldness of it dripping from her hands that extracted from the cup being gripped behind her pale hands and colorful fingernails painted the rainbow.

‘thanks love—what’s your name by the way?’ he asked as she blushed and pushed herself against the bar she stood behind with a smile.

‘amy, what about yours handsome?’

‘aegon…what you doing working in a place like this, huh? a beautiful woman like you should be in the most fine establishment, taking the orders of high class woman and men and getting tipped fabulously not by lowlifes who only seem to have money for drugs and beer’

her smile started to show more prominent as the brush on her face rose. tucking the hair behind her pierced ear—‘is that what you are then? huh?’

he simple shrugged before going jack to his brother who was suffering the sweet talks of a drunken woman with dark hair.

‘ah look my brother is growing up, speaking to your first woman huh?’ aegon wrapped his arm around aemond’s shoulder who stiffened his stature and suppressed the urge to roll his eyes in our torture.

‘i’m leaving—‘

‘no no no! don’t leave, stay here. be present, have fun. get drunk—forget about the family for a while—‘

‘if that’s what you do and if my outcome of this will lead to how you are now i don’t want that. sorry but i want to leave with or without you.’

aegon felt his jaw clutch at the fact aemond wasn’t giving up at all. his grip on his brothers neck tightened—‘shut the fuck up and sit here like a little pussy then. leave and you’ll regret it terribly.’ aegon let go of aemond who looked at his brother with frowned eyebrows.

aegon felt slight anger take over him and he rolled his eyes before taking a long sip of his cold drink that began to melt from the heat of the room.

the song of the night changed as his danced his eyes to focus on the dancing crowd of the room who held people freely dancing rather it was shirtless, pantless or even naked—the very moment the music got louder was the exact moment he saw the pure white hair in the crowd.

the white hair only shared in his family—her hair could have been dyed but…nobody would want the hair color of a targaryen.

his eyes stayed glued to the female who let her arms rise just above her head as if she were touching the clouds above, her waist moving slowly as he looked up and down her frame.

the back of her was slowly turning to reveal herself and her face to him. she was wearing a short black skirt with torn stockings, heeled boots and white bottom down work shirt that a man would wear that was dressed over with a long oversized leather jacket.

when her face, he immediately recognized her. the daughter of his eldest sister. y/n targaryen.

almost letting his jaw drop to the dusted floor he slowly walked over to aemond who was sitting there against his will—‘isn’t that our niece? y/n targaryen?’ aegon pointed with his pointer finger that held a thick gold ring around it as he let half of his face hide behind the glass cup.

aemond immediately looked up and went to search for the self claimed y/n. nonetheless he found her and was immediately transfixed. how could she even be here? why was she here? especially dressed like that. if their sister saw her like this she would have a heart attack.

aemond nodded his head and aegon laughed as if the most ground breaking joke had been told in the history of forever.

‘but how? how is she even here right now? i thought daemon had the house guarded and locked down just for her to stay in and never leave’ aegon asked once he was able to or speak properly.

‘i’ve…heard they let her have a home for herself since she requested more privacy. more guards but not as many lock devices as they thought. she must have been able to break some.’ aemond still watched her as she smoked the center of the dance floor with the smoke coming from her glossy, plumped lips.

aegon felt his pants harden. he was never going to admit this fact as of right now but he was going to go over. there was no way in hell he would get cover this image of y/n over in his mind like he did with the whores he fucked recklessly.

sipping the rest of his drink with a large gulp and slapping it down onto the table next to aemond who was shaken out of his trance, aegon ruffled his hair with his thin fingers and fixed himself up.

aemond seeing him as he did this looked him up and down in pure fright—‘what…where are you going? what are you doing?’

‘making my way over to the lady. what else am i to do?’

aemond stood up and made sure his height peeked now.

‘you can’t. deamon and rhaenyra have permanently permitted and even mother have forbid you to ever speak to her…if you talk to her and anything happens you could ruin everything—‘

‘that’s why it’s exciting. and that’s exactly why i’m going to do it right now.’ pushing his shoulder against aemond who closed his eye and inhaled sharply he was readying himself for the future as he turned around to watch the scene itself unfold.

as argon made his way over to y/n who was completely on a different planet in her mind, he took a long drag of someone’s blunt as they didn’t mind. holding it in then breathing out he finally spelled into her world.

her eyes were softly shut. the black makeup around her eyes being prominent and her scent of weed, booz and perfume filled his lungs.

looking down at her body as she turned around she felt the hard chest of a man and opened her eyes to see aegon looking down at her with darkened eyes.

though they were blue, she was still able to see the darkness they held behind them.

her eyebrows frowned as if the her in her mind was leaving the planet she was once on and back to earth. aegon softly smiled at this and she let her jaw slightly open after slightly gulping.

‘my beautiful, beautiful, niece. what a surprise’ he joked as she looked up at him in sheer fright.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

walking into the bathroom as she stumbled over the invisible strings in front of her, y/n forced her way around the woman who were hurryingly getting ready, smoking and taking up their last drugs of the night. she pushed open the stall door and gripped the walls as her breath quickened.

she felt her head pounding at the image of aegon even being here at the same time as she was. this wouldn’t mean anything but to her this was so dangerous. her uncle—her moms brother seeing her here of all places on earth, especially somewhere she wasn’t even supposed to know about.

her stomach started to bubble as she felt her spit grow warm. groaning and throwing her head back to calm herself down with deep breaths she felt the feeling slowly subtracting and drafting away. the acid in her stomach going back calm.

‘fuck…fuck! anybody got a fucking cigarette?’ she yelled as a girl next to her in the stall swiftly slid her hand under the wall—‘here baby!’ she yelled.

looking down, y/n grabbed it in a hurry and took a long drag of it. the feeling rushing over the anxiety and pressure she was once feeling with calmness. breathing it out she smiled a bit with closed eyes as she lowered her legs to give it back.

‘thank you’ she said while the girl voiced back—‘no problem. hey you okay? i heard you cursing at the toilet’ she joked while smoking the cigarette she was given back.

‘uh, kinda. someone who isn’t supposed too even know im here just fucking made himself known. my parents are going to strip me of my hair and skin and hang it on the wall…fuck.’ y/n felt the nervousness wash back over.

y/n was now sitting on the bathroom floor with her legs pulled against her chest as she gripped her head from the headache that was building up.

as if the woman knew what she needed she passed the cigarette back over from under the stall as y/n took it.

‘ah that’s why i always move from place to place. i know how that feels. i moved a while ago. trust me honey, the best decision i've ever made, my parents don’t tell me what to do anymore.’ she explained while y/n took a drag of the cigarette and passed it back.

‘damn…how’d you even leave? i’m so scared of leaving i don’t even know anymore.’ looking up at the colorful ceiling, y/n thought of her parents the the life she was born into.

‘just…up and left i guess. stole a couple of bucks, packed what i had in my closet in one suitcase and a bag on my shoulder and made my way here. grew up on the streets but got money from working here.’ she told while y/n listened.

humming back the girl finished the cigarette and looked over at the stall all then down at the floor to see y/n’s half body sitting down.

‘hey come out i might have something you need, to loosen up’

y/n looked over and heard the heels of the girl walking out of the stall. getting up herself and opening the door to see a brown haired girl with red lipstick, black crop top and glittery skirt with black heels.

y/n nervously looked down before smiling a bit.

the girl moved over to y/n and soothed her hair as y/n looked herself in the mirror.

‘your a targaryen huh?’ the woman asked. y/n grew nervous at the fact she new what last name she shared be the woman eased her tension with a simple smile.

reaching into her bag and pulling out bag that held white powder, y/n immediately knew what it was and walked next to the woman who evened it out on the counter with her card.

‘it’ll make you see shit, laugh and get a little horny but it’s so worth it i promise’ she told while leaving y/n face to face with three evened out lines of powder in her face.

‘okay…okay fuck it’ y/n shook her hands and immediately grabbed the rolled dollar from the woman who went with the line on her finger.

closing her eyes and sniffing the line straight—first, second then third.

whipping herself back up with closed eyes she breathed out—‘i said goddamn!…goddamn.’ she sniffed as the substance went further up into her mind. breathing out a bit as she reached forward to press on the water a bit, she placed some on her finger and whipped the remnant off her nose.

sniffing once more before rubbing her nose with her hand she looked herself into the mirror and smiled a bit at the pure fact that she didn’t recognize herself.

fixing her hair and tossing it behind her back. the woman looked at her with admiration before giving her a kiss on the cheek—‘good luck babe, see you soon i hope?’ she said, while walking out.

y/n smiled and looked back into the mirror to let the drug itself take over.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

just outside the bathroom stood aegon who was looking all over the club for y/n who had stumbled her way through the crowd and away from him before he could even stop her.

finally her white hair peeked through the crowd that huddled near the bathroom. fixing his once hunched stature he straightened as she walked to him. her face looked much more different than before. more, pleasured. not as horrified.

when’s she made toe to toe with him through their shoes, she looked him up with her eyes but not her full face, giving the white part of her eyes more room than its actual color.

‘why are you here?’ she simple asked, pushing the conversation to its start. the forwardness definitely coming from daemon.

‘same as you just want to run and forgetting’ he simply and truthfully answered. a little taken back at her boldness but nevertheless replied.

‘hm. so you weren’t sent by one of my parents nor one of your own?’

‘fuck no. if i were to you think id be holding this drink whilst talking to you? i’d be cut in half before i would be able to speak hello as before’ aegon told as she looked him up and down.

‘if your so as lying to me i will have you killed in your sleep—‘

‘oh i know princess…don’t let my presence ruin your night of fun. i just hoped to be able to enjoy it with you’

to put it simply he wanted to stay by her side the whole time. even if she weren’t to speak to him or so even look at him he would be satisfied enough to stand in her atmosphere.

‘oh so you want to follow me around like a lost puppy with your tail between your legs, huh? is that it?’ she asked while pushing her body against his own.

his jeans becoming more tight around his practically choking cock. he grinned down at her while letting his hand travel up her face and to her jaw. his fingers then inching it to her bottom lip and letting his thumb press its way into her mouth which she allowed.

he let himself groan a bit as she suckled it like a babe on its mothers tit. his hips now flushed against her own she rubbed herself against him as he closed his eyes. she knew the fact that his lust was overcoming him.

which was why it prompted her to push herself away and let her lips slowly retract from his thumb. he opens his eyes in a slight haze as she smiled up at him.

he finger going over his lips—‘you a bad little boy huh? letting your niece, the daughter of your sister…betrothed to another, suckle your thumb in the middle of a club surrounded by drugs, sex and drunks. how would your mother think of you as of now—‘

‘i don’t give a fuck how she thinks of me…how about you be a good niece and let your uncle fuck you behind this club and take you come to force my cock into your pussy…how dose that sound? huh?’ he forced his hand around her neck while their lips were inches apart from touching each other as she let them slowly open.

her heat below becoming wet and practically soaking her panties.

‘fuck…’ she whispered as he smiled against her lips. she looked between his eyes and lips before pressing her own against his. the lust controlling her every fiber in her body.

aegon grabbed the sides of her face as her own half his wrists. his lips hungrily kissed her own as she moaned into his mouth. he’s kissed plenty of women, but never has any of them held just as much hunger in their kisses as he did and been able to match and mold against his own.

he groaned and sloppily kissed her as she let her body press against his once more before he forced himself to pull away.

‘we have to go—we go to my house, where i’ll fuck you’

‘yes…please’ she begged as he kissed her once more.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

when they arrived into his large home—they were complete strangers keeping their hands off one another. his hands roamed over her body, face, waist and ass as her own pushed themselves against his stomach, neck and chest.

she moaned and he did too as she ripped his silk shirt open and let it down to the floor, the buttons on it clicking against the marble floors. he let her slip off her own shirt as

he picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist as she was holding his shoulders and neck with her arms that were completely bare.

his hands placed under her thighs as he gripped them. walking the both of them over to his bedroom and kicking the door open.

he slowly placed her onto the bed where her back touched the top of his dark green silk sheets her legs stayed wrapped around his own.

lucky for him this was his home where aemond definitely did not want to share. aemond stated the fact he didn’t want whores in the house every other night and or a party going on. he stayed with their parents and sister, helaena.

y/n thrusted her hips up into aegons growing cock as he groaned into her mouth and stuck his tongue into her mouth to flush against her own. when he slowly retracted she suckled down onto his bottom lip letting it slowly stretch before she let go.

‘you know how to please a man…my sweet, innocent y/n’ he whispered as she whined. her hips moving to his to try and ease the pressure that was threatening to spill from her.

‘sh…don’t worry—i’ll give you exactly what you need. what you thirst for.’ kissing her lips as he then kissed her chip, breast and slowly making his way down to her heat she watched him as his eyes kept trace to her own.

‘soaking’ he was in sheer awe as we was face to her pussy that clutched around nothing.

placing his lips upon it, he kissed her pearl before letting his mouth completely consume her.

‘ah—fuck’ y/n moaned as he stuck his tounge into her. making her hands down to grip his white messy hair, he moaned as she pulled it, his eyes watched her and threatening to close of pleasure.

he hated to admit the fact that only this would be able to make him soak his pants with cum without even being touched. her body, taste and noises were enough to get him off. her hands that gripped his hair and would occasionally sooth it.

y/n’s thighs were now wrapped around his head as he let his eyes roll back along with her own as she felt her peak rising to the surface.

‘i’m cumming…i’m going to cum all over your fucking face’ she mumbled while thrusting her hips into him.

he let one of his fingers enter her body as she moaned out loudly, causing him to almost cum right then and there.

‘cum for me baby…cum for me please’ he practically was dying for it. she gave him what he wished for and her legs shook as they released his head.

‘fuck!’ she yelled while he let his mouth suckle her throbbing pussy.

‘shit—you soaked me’ he smiled as he looked up at her as he looked back down at him and weakly smiled. he kissed her sensitive bud making her jump a bit as he kissed his way back to her lips.

she completely enclosed his moths and kissed him hungrily, tasting herself on his lips.

‘i want you to fuck me—please? please…i need it’ she begged. her legs wrapping back around his waist to push him forward to where his hard cock was pushed against her.

‘you really want that?’

‘yes—‘

‘are you able to keep up?’

‘fuck yes’ she smiled as he kissed her. she kissed him back and let him work his way down to his pants to unbuckle himself and let his aching cock pull out of its enclosure.

‘i’m going to go slow…okay?’ she nodded her head as she looked down at his cock that he lined up to her entrance.

the slowness was killing the both of them but was needed for the comfort of the moment. once it was in, y/n closed her eyes and let her upper body press itself against his chest. husband making its way under her to hold it there as he kept his eyes trained in her face.

his eyebrows frowning from pure pleasure as she opened her eyes and focused on him.

he moved painfully slow. but the more he molded his way around her walls the rougher and harder he got.

‘shit’ he groaned while she frowned her own eyebrows.

‘faster…go faster—‘ as she said this; he did just that.

his hips becoming in contact with her own as he becomes more messy and sloppy in his movements. her nails scratching at his back to create her own mark. he loved this. he loved the fact he could practically feel blood dripping down his back from her sharpened nails digging into his back.

he loved that her hair was messily stuck to her face as it’s long locks spread around his bed.

he loved her legs that crossed around his back as her ankles locked to make sure that she wouldn’t lose grip.

his arms almost giving out as he feels himself coming to his release, he let his thrust become harder as aegon placed his head against her shoulder and neck, biting down onto her shoulder.

‘i’m cumming—where do you—‘

‘in me! fuck…fucking come in me—treat me like a whore you find the street and breed me with your children’

his mouth opened as he felt pure euphoria with her words—‘you want my babies? to be swol and filled with my seed, as you grow—‘

‘yes! yes! please—‘ he then gave one last thrust before spilling into her with his body falling against her own as she held him tightly, the both of them finishing their moments.

she soothed her nails up and down his back as he felt himself grow drowsy.

after a bit he finally pushed himself off and and layed next to her as she turned her body, placing a leg over his lower second and massaging her hand up and down his chest.

the both of them forgetting the fact that this every moment could cause either war, or new blood for their family and themselves.

lost in the moment and completely forgetting who they are and what their families can and will do.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #hotd aegon #house of the dragon #house of dragons #short story au ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

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maehemthemisfit · 2 years

Note

MIkey Crush headcanons? GN!Reader

⇢ ˗ˏˋ pairing: mikey x gn!reader ࿐ྂ

⇢ ˗ˏˋ warnings: fluff and oblivious pinning, mentions of death ࿐ྂ

⇢ ˗ˏˋ masterlist ࿐ྂ

Mikey is so blindly in love that it hurts... more so everyone around him who has to bear witness to his lovesick attitude

But what really hurts the most is how oblivious he is to his own emotions, or better yet, the concept of love itself

He's never really seen himself with an s/o or starting his own family. Anytime he thinks about the future, he's just surrounded by friends and their own children, merely happily existing in their lives and he seems fine with that simple lovely daydream

Never once in his life has he thought about what it might be like to have that domestic life... well, that was until you came into the picture.

Whatever brought you into his world and made fate steer your paths together, it'd have to be a few times before he finally took interest.

Whether he happened to see something you did or if you had a more personal and close experience with him, whatever it was you did, it surely caught his interest

It wasn't a crush at first... more like innocent curiosity or nearing admiration

He was more subtle in the beginning, short glances, brief greetings and such

And then it became more to the point Draken and Mitsuya picked up his behavior.

Staring almost in a dreamily way, holding longer conversations even if you two knew nothing about each other, actually interested when your name is brought up in a conversation, oh and let's not forget him ReMemBeRiNg things about you that anyone else would have easily forgotten. 😳

Nobody really commented on it until it started getting out of hand

Mikey would have ✨m o o d s w i n g s✨ and everyone but him understood why

He's all happy, giddy, practically bouncing off the walls when you're in his presence. Then immediately after you leave, he's all mopey and annoyed

You know it's bad if he loses his appetite for food

OKAY DRAKEN GET TO WORK 👏🏾

At this point, the entire gang knows about Mikey's little crush, but the worse thing about it... is that the two of you are barely acquaintances 💀

So, when Draken tries to explain to Mikey how he should probably befriend you considering he has a cr-

"KEN-CHIN THATS A GREAT IDEA!! I'm pretty sure Hina's tired of me stealing her boyfriend all the time."

"N-No that's not what I'm-"

Annnd he's gone. God give Draken the strength he's on his 12th reason

And guess what? He doesn't even ask you, deadass just declares you're his friend while the whole gang facepalms 😒💢 That idiot...

Well, at least you're friends now so that could ease his attitude...

It does for a while, until he starts getting jealous when he sees Takemichi around you more often (totally not because you're vital in Mikey's future or anything)

He's grumpy about it, but at the same time not really aware why he's mad about it because it's just his two friends hanging out! what's so bad about that? Everything's fine and- why are they laughing together?? What's funny? What did he say??

He really pulls a >:(

Bro chill, that's not yo s/o

"Earth to Mikey? Hello?" "Huh..?" "You done sending death glares at michi?"

He's so confused... poor boi. He has the best intentions tho

Of course michi noticed his friend's stare, damn near felt the daggers that Mikey gazed at him. So michi lowkey drops the tea on your likes and interests (some info he got from the future- best wingman!) and tells Mikey maybe he should yk... ask you out?

Ask out... as a friend right?

He didn't get the memo... chile help this man

This part is dedicated to my future mikey x reader series so here's some exclusive hcs

Mikey won't ask you out. At this point he knows he "likes" you, but not in the yk "like like love" typa way, so he's still oblivious (i mean you both are to an extent)

One of the cutest things he'll do is take you out on these unofficial dates.

Its not really a date, but its not really hanging out either.

He'll take you to either his or your favorite place.

Stargazing, watching the sunset, gang meetings, late night drives in the middle of the night, out to eat- you name it

I think with each "date" he just falls for you even harder, especially if you reciprocate some sort of feeling back like comforting him and touching him affectionately, he just melts in your embrace and absentmindedly smiles at the thought of you, sometimes mid fight or drive which is dangerous as hell and Baji often has to shake him out of it.

He really could be mid rocking somebody's shit and then he thinks about you and instantly leaves to go find you, like there isn't an all-out brawl going on.

The nail's set in the coffin when he shares his dorayaki/taiyaki with you, even pah does a double take (yes he's late, but even he realized before Mikey)

If you do anything domestic for this boy like giving him a bento, he's a flustered mess

"W-What's all this for, (n/n)?" "Oh, I just noticed you haven't eaten all day so I made you this!" "Wait, y-you made it? For... me?"

Mikey.exe stopped working

Don't worry, he reboots after a while and pretends like nothing happened and everybody's like :0 bitch...what? And he's like "Isn't (n/n) the best?" :D

*sigh*

I think when he actually realized how deep in love he was, it was probably near/on the anniversary of Shinichiro's death. He'd show up at your door because he was having a really bad day, bruised from a fight he couldn't care less about. He didn't bother knocking, actually, he second guessed visiting you and was about to turn away until you opened the door, bag in hand full of taiyaki's you personally made, and on your way to see him.

Your surprised yet worried filled eyes said everything when you looked at him, ushering him into your home and quickly asking if he was alright, all the while grabbing medical supplies to tend to his wounds.

He wasn't mentally the best in this moment, but somehow your warm smile made everything feel... right.

Your soft touches and the way you placed one of those cutesy band aids over one of his cuts, giving it a kiss and saying it'll heal faster that way. He had to bite his lip to keep from breaking out in tears.

In that moment he just wrapped his arms around you and cried, barely able to speak as he tried to recall his day, the name of his brother being choked out as you held him in your arms, assuring him that you'll always be there, giving him all the care and comfort he could ever wish for.

"Then this... t-his gang was here- and.. a-and shin-" "Shh, it's okay. Take your time. I'm here, i'm not going anywhere, okay?"

"You... promise?"

"Of course, I promise. Forever and always." 💞

And that's when his ideal future changed.

He wouldn't mind you being there with all of his friends, happily laughing and goofing off together.

But of course, it was more than that. It has always been more than that.

Because he loved you and wanted to wake up to you every day and go to sleep with you every night. Suddenly the idea of raising a family with you didn't seem so unrealistic if it meant he could hold you like this forever.

He wanted this with you. Needed this...

Mikey pulled away; tears dried to his face as he looked you over once again, still gripping onto you as if he were to let go... you would vanish before his eyes.

Glistening obsidian eyes traveled down to your lips then back up to your twinkling eyes as you ran your fingers through his hair.

yeah i got carried away...

"(Y/n), I..."

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paperw0rmz · 10 months

Text

How to use Pinterest, a tutorial by a kid who wasn’t allowed social media but was allowed Pinterest

What is Pinterest?

Pinterest is a social media platform where likes, followings, comments, don’t fucking matter which means it’s the best social media platform period.

How do I use Pinterest?

First make an account you fucking tard. Do it. It’s fuckinf 2023. Why don’t you have a Pinterest? Make one. Now. Do it.

Anyways

Once you make and set up your profile you will probably be forced by Pinterest to click on interests n shit that you like, you CAN do that if you want, but you can skip it too.

So after Pinterest takes your personal info you can now do the best thing which is starting F.R.E.S.H

First pins

Go look around now! Like cats? Look up cats! Want a recipe? Look up some food! I don’t fucking care! Search around and then click the little pin button which then saves it to your profile so you can check on it later you probably won’t ever look at it again

Reorganize

FUCK! You saved too much random shit and dell down the rabbit hole of pins. You have cats, grandma cookies, and old screen shots from tumblr with an ifunny logo in the corner along with outfits and hair ideas all cluster fucked on your profile! What do you do?

You make boards or even better sections.

A board is where you have basically like a cork board and you can pin certain shit to. So say you want a board for everything to do with Misha Collins, you create a board and then transfer all your saved pins that have to do with Misha to that board and BOOM! It’s organized now : D

Sections are even better!

To make sections you must first have a board, so say you want to then REALLY organize your Misha Collins board. You then press create sections and then label your sections! So say you want crying misha happy misha or mishapocolypse, all of those sections will now be saved in the Misha Board even MORE organized than before!

Expert Mode

Psssh Pinterest is easy anyone can do- wait, five quick and easy ways to turn an old T-Shirt new again? Wait, no hold the fuck on I need to try this. Wait so I just cut it here and then- wait so I tie it here? But how do they- am I missing a step??? That doesn’t make any fuckin- why doesn’t this look like the picture? I don’t get it!!! FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU

Has that ever happened to you!? You see an idea on Pinterest and you then try it out and it doesn’t go as planned? No? It came out perfectly? Well you should go kill yourself actually. But before then there’s a really cool feature on Pinterest (that nobody uses anymore really) called Try it! Its a way to show that you attempted to make whatever the original pin made and is a great way to see if it’s actually humanly possible or if the instructions suck ass, also it’s funny to look at peoples failed attempts!

Shit my Pinterest is just misha Collins

Did your Aunt Barbra ask to follow you on Pinterest? Do you have nothing to show other than some Slavic mediocre looking man that you treat like a preteen girl? Post your own shit! Make a board and then sections in it for all photos you take!!! Literally!!! Please!!! It’s so cute to have a digital scrap book!!! I might kill myself if more people don’t show the mundane and boring parts of their lives!!! This is a cry for help!!!! If you want your pins to get noticed make sure you add generic shit like “twilight core Alex g” or “trans Fem robot bdsm” stuff that people just look up you know. Same with the discription, the first 50 words

are what pops up for other Pinterest users, so make sure to use those characters wisely!

Hurray

You now know how to use Pinterest! Congratulations! And of course don’t forget the other feature like:

Commenting on pins, hearting pins, staring pins, the inability to truly look up names so you are forced to send a link to your account instead for people to follow you, the useless QR code, linking in pins, store links in pins, and more!

In all, Pinterest is a very good website and app that allows you to just hoard images and then probably never look at again even though you tell yourself you will. It’s great for creatives, autistic people, and some other people I guess.

TLDR: go ape shit fam

#Pinterest #blog #txt post #this was for discord but I put effort so now it’s here

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radio-charlie · 11 months

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Hello everyone hope you like my song. I wrote the lyrics myself but the music is composed by the really cool Beat Dizzla D who let me post this on my socmed for free. You can check out his other beats at his website and his YouTube channel

Lyrics:

Everybody said Chinese boys can’t rap Well you’re right That’s why I’m here to sing

Feeling like a worm In that I fucking squirm I’m just a little tube Looking like a pube Everything is big and I’m just a fucking runt Screaming at the wind blowing fire out my cunt

World is gonna end but not in blood and fire Just our precious souls tossed on a funeral pyre And we don’t even know It’s happening so slow AI’s not the worst of it I don’t want you to wake up only when it’s time to go

What’s been in the making for so many years is coming to a head they’re turning up the gears But it will feel so natural you don’t see their control Reaching right down to the meat of it and further down below Caught me feeling like a dick Pins and needles on my head Blow my load and then I’m done Shrivelled grape drying in the sun (credit to my friend arnav d. for the expression) "What is to be done" said some guy a long time ago Guess he felt like a dick too But a different kind A better kind

I want you to know my friend That all the way until the end Whats yours is yours, your breathing blood The soul it carved out through its flood This whole world can’t jack your swag You made it and you own it, jag Nobody ever knew you like you know you Nobody can love you like you

Caught you feeling like a dick Pins and needles on your head Those weird thoughts and those weird dreams Nothing’s ever as it seems - Just remember. You know love You knew it well before they cloved your heart in two. Good or bad, sane or mad, just don’t forget that you are you

#ok yea i forgot that the past tense of cleave is #cleaved #not cloved #nvm u get the idea

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sparklingbluerose · 2 years

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Allied Forces x Reader

"Surrounded by all those whom she had loved the most,

They felt the same and took care of her with no cost."

A/N: STAN HETALIA IT CURES ILLNESSES.

☆

TW: Slight Smut At The End, Cursing, Badass Reader

Fem! (Y/N) 《Other Genders Will Also Be Made》

☆

"YOU MOLDY FROG! WHAT DID YOU?!"

...

Hehe..moldy– ahem.

Anyways, it was a normal day at the house of our (Y/N), 'normal' meaning chaos and complete destruction. But you had been rich enough to pay for damages at least. I hope you are...

"Guys, c-calm down." You sigh, with another attempt to stop them from running around and ruining the house.

The attempt as you can see...was in vain.

Rolling your eyes, you gave a big sigh. Since when and why were you born as a goddamn human feline...ah yes– i haven't told you about you yet. Well, you see..you are what they call a neko. Somewhat human with animal features like cat ears and a tail.

The same applies for the six extra mouths you feed as well which you are well annoyed with. This was sooo bullshit man...your eyebrow twitches, ready to kill them.

"One." You count out loud, making sure to give them the counting as a warning sign to stop running. It was a getting out of hand, and you were ready to beat their asses for it.

Arthur and Matthew clearly heared your voice, and immediately turns to you with wide eyes. "Guys! Stop it!" Matthew hisses.

"..Two." Your voice calls out. Holy shit, since when were you even this intimidating? In a calm manner, Ivan just smiles and forcibly makes Alfred stop moving around.

Lips twitching into a big smile, you look like a psychopathic chesire cat ready for blood. Oh...oh no.

Matthew clasps his hands in a praying position, just muttering some sort of prayer. So this is when it gets serious, huh.

"THREE." In a swift notion you immediately pulled Alfred and Francis by their ears, earning a cry from both as you pin them to the floor with the scariest face you could ever make...

"D-Dudette! We could l-like! Talk about this..righ-right!?" With a sweatdrop, the American attempts to wiggle out of your grasp.

Oh, but it wasn't working..."I suggest that you..maybe apologize like the good kitties you guys are and i'll let you off the hook..?" You make an eerie smile, suggesting ever so calmly.

You were being scary again! Nobody liked that. Of course well, there was no escape to the wrath of neko (Y/N) once you hit her final nerve...apparently. It was all fun and games..

..Though that all ended when your breath hitched, smelling an all too familiar scent, eyes widened as well as everyone else.

"..The fuck–" You stood up, looking down at the two with very furrowed eyebrows and a confused reaction. You were keepjng track of the schedule...you knew it wasn't today, right?

Nope, you were sure. You double checked the calender on the wall and confirmed. Their heat was somehow starting today..

"Wow, so much for my apology." You huff in annoyance, ears flattening before you look around for the cabinet.

"H-Here, love." Arthur obediently gives you the heat control kit and you take it from him with a thankful smile. Now, it wasn't a big problem, now you just...

Ah, nevermind. This'll be hell. "(Y-Y/N)!" Alfred stutters, eyes cascading over your body and you almost choke from how..submissive he was being. You haven't lived with them more than 7 months yet, so they haven't had their heat much but–

Holy shit were you seeing this right? Did you really just feel this victorious over some stuttering and pleads? Oh, my...you wouldn't forget this day for as long as you lived!

"Hmph.." A bit of pink tints your cheeks, and you take out the heat control pills needed for their problems.

This'll last for a week, but you've had your experience. Yours was a lot later than them, so basically you'd have yours next month.

'Calm down. Give the pills, just shove it down their throat and run away like an ugly bitch seeing their boyfriend with another girl she hated– wait what?' You stop in your tracks, holding in your hysterical laughter.

"Okay, okay.." You give a long inhale, and kneel down to the boys in need but...

...

You were pinned.

...

Shit.

"Uh?– Alfred...guys?" Now you felt so inferior, under the warm arms of the animallistic male. His ocean blue eyes were beautiful to stare at, you agreed. But was now the fucking time?

You shake your head, and gasped when you felt...ah, no..there wss definitely something poking you in the thigh!

"S-Sorry aru, it seems like it's starting again." Yao breathes out, the six unable contain themselves to just feel the certain warmth of another person. Anything— that would be fine.

Your eyebrows furrow. "If it's starting, get off me and ask each other to fix it!" You exclaim, not taking this very well yourself.

Though, the attempt didn't last so long, as you felt it growing and the whimpering sounds of the males that you once lived your life with– all being so damn clingy because of this heat...

Gah! You slapped yourself straight in the face, eyes looking at the pitiful sight. Well, you'll be damned..

"I'll help okay– just stop squeezing me before i pass out!" You bonk Alfred on the head, and he reluctantly lets you go. Well, there was really no other choice in the matter. If this was the way out for you then so be it!

"Now.." You mutter, with a hesitant sigh and frown upon them. You could only remember the last time you were being so hazy and out of breath..maybe the sound of pleasurable mewling?~

(HOLY CRAP I'M SORRY I CAN'T DO LEMONS I AM TOO MUCH EMBARRASSED FOR THAT ToT)

Taglist: @stygianoir

#hetalia #smut #fanfic #x reader #cat boy #cat girl #why do i do this to myself #lol

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thesunandmoons-blog · 2 years

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30 days.

darlin and david lore no ships rlly

zozo-01 quinn fucking with david by sending him photos of darlin’s injured body and soundbites of them screaming in pain

i think this is absolutely the best thing i’ve ever posted on this account, if i’m being completely honest. i saw a post from a mutual and i knew i needed to write a story based around it!! pls enjoy :D

tags : @zozo-01 @gavinsdeviant

cw/tw : kidnapping, hurt/comfort, abuse, blood, humiliation, self-care issues, just very angsty and not happy, but there is a good ending

Word count : 4,521

Fandom : redacted asmr

Pair : sam/darlin, but the relationship is not the main aspect of the story

if you wanna read on ao3!!

It had been weeks since Darlin’ had been taken.

Nobody could remember exactly how long, always estimating between 3 to 4 weeks, but Sam knew exactly how long. It was 3 weeks and 4 days. He couldn’t forget that, not when they’d done this for him.

Quinn was in their apartment, Darlin’ with their back against the wall, drifting in and out of consciousness. Sam stood between the wolf and vampire, bearing his fangs at Quinn, damn well knowing it wasn’t going to be enough to make him back off.

It had been a quick fight between Quinn and Sam, if you could even call it a fight. As hard as Sam had been trying, he’d been too weak, in the moment, to truly beat a vamp turned by old blood. Darlin’ could only sit there, arms draped on the floor as they were slumped against the wall.

They swallowed a thick lump that had formed in their throat, head lolling back at they were finally able to look at Quinn, him locking eyes with them. Sam was bloodied on the floor, laying on his stomach as his cheek was pressed against the cold floor, also covered in his blood.

“Ju-,” they coughed, spitting out the blood that was in their mouth onto the floor, continuing their sentence by saying, “Just take me. Leave him alone- he’s got nothing to do with this, Quinn.” Again, Darlin’ goes into a coughing fit, and Sam’s eyes were pinned onto them.

He was trying to reach his hand out to them- anything. There was no way they’d just said that. His Darlin’. They never gave into anything like that.

But this was different. Now Sam was getting the short end of the stick, so short that it might as well have not been there at all.

Briskly walking towards them, promply stepping on Sam’s hand, Quinn now stood in front of Darlin’, holding his hand out for them. “As much as I would love for you to put up more of a fight, my little puppy, this will have to do.” He bent over at the hips, hooking an arm behind their back and another behind their knees.

That was the last moment Sam had seen them before he had started drifting in and out of consciousness. Thank the gods that David had asked Sam to text him when they made it back to Darlin’s place, and thank the gods that he hadn’t had the chance to send that message. The consistent buzzing on his phone for the last 10 minutes meant that David was probably on his way, along with back up.

But that didn’t matter. Darlin’ was long gone. And the worst part?

It was voluntary.

David and Asher had found Sam on the floor of Darlin’s apartment. The place reeked of blood- Quinn, Sam, and Darlin’s blood, but mainly the latter two.

It had almost taken a full 24 hours of Sam sleeping, after the healing magic that was poured into him, to recover enough to form coherent sentences to David, explaining everything that had happened. How he was about to text, but Quinn had been waiting for Darlin’. They’d been ambushed, and he couldn’t get the text message through fast enough. How Darlin’ sacrificed themself for his sake, which sent him into a flurry of tears everytime he mentioned it.

Sam wasn’t usually one to have crying fits, especially not in front of people that weren’t Vincent or Darlin’, but this had to be an exception. Guilt had built itself a nest in his stomach, and it was eating him alive.

They had to find Darlin’. There was to question about it.

***

Over the past 25 days, there had been a few close calls when it came to finding Darlin’. It was almost like their scent had been spread around random areas of Dahlia, trying to offput and turn the Shaw Pack and Solaire Clan around. As much as everybody hates Quinn, he was damn smart and knew exactly what he was doing.

Over the past 25 days, many messages, photos and voice clippings, had been sent to David’s phone by multiple random numbers. In the beginning, it would catch him by surprise, seeing a random phone number text him, and upon opening the message the feeling of dread and horror overcoming his senses.

Over the past 25 days, Darlin’ had been beaten, bitten, spit on, anything you can think of, Quinn had done it. Not only had he done it, but he’d photographed it or recorded it and sent it to the Alpha of the esteemed Shaw Pack.

The videos always had a defiant Darlin’ in them, that low growl or a snarl coming from them before being kicked and beaten back into submission to him. No proof from Quinn had shown that Darlin’ was giving up anytime soon, until that video.

That one specific video that really fucked David up-

“Hey, mutt, smile for the camera! Go ahead, say hello to those pathetic, wet dogs you call family. C’mon, you can do it!” Darlin’s head had lifted, eyes squinting under the flash of the phone’s camera. “Good puppy! See, now it’s not too difficult to follow some fucking instructions, hm? Oh, little wolf, my soulmate who just wasn’t meant to be.” They’d only whimpered in response, that alone showing David how much Quinn had torn them down. How much he’d managed to tear them apart, leaving them on the concrete piece by piece. Even if he did continue to kick and beat them, he wouldn’t need to. The video had ended right after that.

Not only could David tell how emotionally and mentally ripped apart they were, but he could see it too. Physically. From what he could see, they were covered in many new bruises, bites, cuts, and... cigarette burns. David had known that Darlin’ used to smoke up until they’d met Sam, but the thought of who threw them into that habit had never crossed his mind.

Darlin’ had truly given up.

***

It was day 30, and nobody was letting up the search for Darlin’. There had been look outs and searched day and night, team members taking shifts and switching out for breaks. Even the smallest leads they would trail on. Anything that smelled remotely like Darlin’ or Quinn was followed until the trail was lost.

All trails had been lost at this point.

They all knew Quinn was fucking with them- taking Darlin’s scent and spreading it wherever he could to throw them off.

There was one fatal mistake that Quinn had made though. His ego was getting the best of him, but he’d been oblivious to that.

With his huge ego telling him he was unstoppable, he called David.

David doesn’t think he’s ever picked up the phone at 11:36pm faster in his entire fucking life. Any random numbered phone call and text message was at least answered or read, just to be safe, and he was damn glad that he picked up this call.

“Oh, hello Alpha! It’s so sickening to know you’re still desperately searching for my little wolf. My. Wolf.” As much as David was listening to Quinn’s voice, he was listening to the background, trying to pull out any kind of information from background noise as possible. Leaves rustling. Crunching tree branches under Quinn’s feet.

He was leaving a forest, or some heavily wooded area.

“Just thought I would give you a curtesy call- celebrating a whole month back together with my little mutt! They’ve finally learned their place again, and let me tell you how great it feels to finally have my property back in my hands. Thanks for roughing them up all those years just so I could tear it all down. Bye bye now! Talk to you soon, puppy.” With venom dripping from his words, Quinn hung up the call.

David immediately was calling anybody he could think of in the pack, including Sam. He finally had some kind of lead and idea of where Darlin’ would be.

***

Quinn, having just fed on Darlin’, and also being around them every minute of every day, was covered in their scent. Whether that was good or bad, he loved it. He loved all of it. As he walked through the forest, ending his phone call with David, he didn’t realize that he had left a perfectly distinguishable scent trail straight back to the cabin where Darlin’ was being kept.

He didn’t have a worry in this world- he’d been doing this at least a few times a week. Quinn would get tired of Darlin’, chewing on them and using them how he pleased, and would leave. Would go to try and find another way to fulfill his ‘needs’. Whether that meant more blood ‘cause Darlin’ wasn’t regenerating it fast enough, or that meant something else, he would go to outside sources to obtain it.

He would drain anyone to get his fill.

***

Anybody David could round up was shifted and sprinting through that forest.

Asher, Milo, Christian, Arden, anybody.

Sam.

The vampire was adamant on finding his Darlin’. His mate. Nothing had mattered to him more in those 30 days than finding them. He will find them and he will find them alive.

He will also be ripping Quinn apart with his bare fucking hands.

As skilled as the noses of the wolves were, nothing would beat Sam’s sense of smell to find Darlin’. Sure, all wolves out on the search had used an item of theirs to get an idea of their scent, but Sam didn’t need that. He knew what they smelled like- he couldn’t ever forget something like that.

With a howl in the distance, Sam stopped his paces, turning to look directly at David, whom he had been searching with. Because Sam wouldn’t have the ability to howl as a call-to-action to the rest of the pack, David had decided it would be best if they went together, just in case.

Long strides and even faster steps quickly closed the distance between all wolves and the howler- Asher. Asher had picked up on a scent, circling one of the random, old oaks.

David, this smells like them. It smells like they were almost wiped onto the tree- I don’t know how to describe it. It just smells exactly like that t-shirt Sam gave us.

He’d given a knowing nod to Asher, looking at the rest of the wolves, but Sam wasn’t sure what was happening. He wasn’t a part of this telepathic link connection thing that Darlin’ had told him about before.

It wasn’t long before everybody split into 3 groups, David shifting back to his human form. “Sam,” David put his hands on Sam’s shoulders, continuing, “we have a trail. And it’s not going cold this time, I promise you.”

Sam lead David and Asher, who were currently shifted, along the scented trail. The closer they were getting to the cabin, the stronger Darlin’ scent became along the trees. However, the only thing about this scent was that it was becoming mixed with something else. Something metallic, iron like- it clicked. Blood. Darlin’s blood. Lots of it, especially when the cabin came into view.

The vampire had assumed that David and Asher were using their telepathic link again as they looked at each other, likely sending out some kind of message to the rest of the pack who’d been spread out around the cabin, hiding within the thick forest.

The old, wooden cabin had been incredibly well hidden- if not for the background noise on the phone call that Quinn had graced David with, they would have had no chance of finding this place. It was, quite literally, in the middle of nowhere.

Everybody had been on the tips of their toes, the still air being thick with tension. For now, there had been no sign of Quinn, no sign of any of his little cohorts, and no sign of general movement. Everybody was slowly closing in on the cabin, sniffing and sensing for any other life besides Darlin’.

They needed to make this quick- if Quinn wasn’t there, there was no telling when he would be back. He could already be on his way for all they know, but they couldn’t think about that right now. All any of them could think of was getting Darlin’ out of there.

With a short, sputtering breath exhaled through his nose, Sam motioned for David to continue, not sensing any immediate threat around them. Sam had noticed the rest of the pack, obviously besides David and Asher, surrounding the cabin, backs facing it to keep some kind of look out. With how thick the surrounding forest was, they would need as many eyes on lookout as possible- and knowing this was Quinn’s doing? They could probably use even more help.

Noting Sam’s signal, David shifted back, readjusting his shirt as he slowly closed in to the front door of the cabin. Asher was right behind him, and Sam followed the two wolves. David pressed his ear against the door, but there wasn’t any sound from inside that would indicate that anybody was inside.

A quiet jiggle of the doorknob, which could have been the loudest thing Sam’s heard in a while, besides his own heartbeat in his ears, had David now pushing open the door slowly. The creaking of the door was subtle, but loud enough for a small figure in the corner to flinch.

Darlin’.

***

They looked limp. David thought they were unconscious, or dead, until they’d flinched. David’s eyes flooded with relief, even though they looked... worse for wear.

Darlin’ was, and this is not an exaggeration, coated and caked in their own blood, almost from head to toe. Their eyes were glossy with tears, but had a hollowness to them, like there was no more life in them. Darlin’s clothes had been ripped to shreds- it almost looked as if they weren’t even wearing clothes at this point. The exposure showed the new markings they’d received over the last 30 days. It was horrific. They were totally exposed, hands cuffed in front of them, but chained to the wall. Even their ankles had been cuffed up and chained to the wall. Darlin’ really had no chance of getting out of that.

There was a laundry list of physical differences that David could list upon seeing them initially: Eyes were faded of any light or hope, they were coated in blood, they were covered in new bite marks, cuts, bruises, cigarette burn marks, they’d looked like they lost a bit of weight (probably from not being fed properly, and being fed on too much), paler than normal, ratted up hair (also caked in blood and dirt), chapped lips, and the list could go on. You name it, it would probably be on there.

Darlin’s eyes held an initial panic when seeing David walk through the door cautiously, his hands up, palms forward. “Tanker? Can you hear me? It’s... it’s David.” His voice was as tough as it had always been, but the crack in his voice showed everything he’d felt in that past month.

Their eyes were still glossed over, David immediately recognizing the shine that treaded down their cheeks now. Darlin’s entire form trembled, folded into itself as small as they could get. Their head was tucked down to their chest as far as they could get it, using their hands to shield David away. “N....no..” Darlin’s voice was raw, quiet, and held so much bottled up emotion.

David stopped in his place, about half way in the cabin between Darlin’ and the front door. Asher had quietly followed behind, hands by his sides as he made himself visible to Darlin’. A quiet creak in the floorboard had Darlin’s eyes looking his direction. Their eyes went wide, looking more than terrified, as they saw not Asher, but the figure looming behind him in the darkess.

Sam.

Darlin’s entire figure no longer trembled, but fully shook. Their chest was heaving as they clawed at their neck, feeling like they were suffocating. They were pushing their bare feet into the dirty concrete, trying to force themself back into the wall they were chained up to. Darlin’s head was shaking side to side, tears now rapidly falling down their cheeks as their reality hit them. Everybody had gone there to save them, but it had really been too late.

They didn’t want to be saved anymore. They didn’t want to continue putting the pack at risk, the Solaire clan at risk-

Sam at risk.

Darlin’ had continuously thought about the last moment they’d seen Sam before letting Quinn take them. His bloodied and bruised body, unmoving on the floor in front of them. In their home. Their shared safe space that couldn’t be trusted anymore.

David had turned back to look at Asher, the beta giving him a knowing nod, as if they’d just had a full conversation. Asher turned on his heel, placing a gentle hand on Sam’s unmoving shoulder. “Listen, buddy, we’ve gotta get you outta here, just for a couple of minutes. David’s got this covered, but I think all of us being in here is overwhelming them.” Sam’s lips were pressed thin, and all he could do was nod. Sam could trust the alpha with everything in his soul- he knew David would do anything to protect Darlin’, but that didn’t mean he wanted to take even his eyes off of them now. He never wanted to let them go, not again.

Now seeing that the other 2 men had left the cabin, and it was only David, Darlin’s sobs and trembles lessened, but didn’t fully stop. The alpha wolf was taking small, slow steps towards them, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat as he made his approach. His hands were still perched up, slowly lowering and holding them out for Darlin’ to examine before he made any attempt to physically touch them.

“Tanker, we’re here. We’re taking you home. I know you’re... definitely terrified right now, but it’s going to be okay. We’ve been looking for you and we’ve finally found you. You aren’t being taken away from us again. Ever again.” His words were stiff, tight with tension and anger, but not directed at them, of course not.

Darlin’s gaze was at the floor. The shock that was plastered on David’s face after seeing and hearing what they said next was incredible-

The corners of their lips slightly turned up and they said, “No... I-I’m gonna stay.” Darlin’ coughed from the amount they were speaking, many words not leaving their mouth since they’d been taken. “I can’t risk your lives, not again. Especially not Sam’s life.. He’s my mate, David. I can’t do that again.”

David was appalled. He was... totally speechless. His head just shook rapidly, kneeling down onto the ground, hands gently grasping Darlin’s shoulders. “Tanker, it wasn’t a question. I’m not leaving you here. You’re my family- you’re everyone’s family here! We care about you and love you more than you could understand and we are getting you out of here.” David was starting to lose his cool- Darlin’s little speech really threw him for a loop. That was definitely not what he was expecting.

“I can’t promise I’ll go down easy if you’re trying to get me outta here, David.”

***

It was an understatement to say that David, Sam, and the rest of the Shaw pack didn’t pull Darlin’ out of there easily. There was kicking and screaming, all sheer determination from Darlin’ to be put down and left alone. Left there in that dirty cabin where Quinn would eventually kill them, and all of their issues would just disappear.

The exhaustion that poured from Darlin’ was immeasurable. They’d fought with David for a good 15 minutes before they’d given up fighting with him, knowing they wouldn’t win this. They’d gone practically limp in David’s arms, unchained from the wall and being carried out quickly to David’s truck.

Group A, as they’d called themselves, consisting of David, Asher, and Sam were now rushing themselves back to David’s truck, Darlin’s whimpering form curled up in David’s arms. Every movement, bump, or shift made Darlin’s body ache, groans and half-assed snarls leaving their mouth, followed by quiet apologies from David.

Asher was following behind the three of them in his wolf form, per David’s request, just in case anything came through the connective link. As soon as David had gently sat Darlin’ down in his back seat, Asher barked at him, eyes thin and trying to get David to shift.

Sam was in the back seat with them, Darlin’s weak figure leaned up against him. Their eyes were lidded, looking like cresent moons, and their breathing was slow. The violet bags that were stamped underneath his eyes were proof how much he’d worried about them. His hands were very gently holding their shoulders, just trying to keep them propped up. There was an initial stiffness in Darlin’s body when Sam touched them, even though he’d asked permission first. However, their body had eventually relaxed back into him, head lolling onto his shoulder as their eyes shut fully.

Sam’s eyes peered over their figure outside of the truck’s door, watching as Asher and David sprinted off in their shifted forms. He could only assume Quinn had returned, or something had happened with one of the other members. He wanted to go with- wanted to rip that leech’s head off himself- but there was nothing he wanted more than to be with his partner in that moment. His Darlin’. His mate.

***

Darlin’ had been home for 2 weeks now.

Quinn had been dead for 2 weeks now, curtesy of the hands of David Shaw.

As much as David had insisted that Darlin’ stay in his guest bedroom, they refused, not wanting to take the pity offer (it definitely wasn’t a pity offer, but there was a heavy guilt looming over Darlin’s mind).

Darlin’ stayed at their apartment, allowing Sam to stay there as long as he wanted as well. He’d easily taken up that offer, not ever wanting his Darlin’ out of his sight again. Sam knew that wasn’t always going to be possible, but he was going to try his hardest to keep them safe.

The first week had been hell. Darlin’ wasn’t sleeping, wasn’t eating, wasn’t drinking water- hell they weren’t doing anything. They’d just lay in bed, unmoving. Sam didn’t know what to do- he didn’t know how to take care of them. They’d ignored any water or food he’d brought to them, didn’t answer his questions, didn’t respond when he’d try to start up conversations. Hell, they were barely looking at him.

It had been during that second week that they’d finally started getting themself out of bed again. They’d started drinking small amounts of water, making small talk with Sam, responding to text messages again. Darlin’ was making as much of an effort as they could to integrate themself back into normal life, including all of the bad habits they carried around with them.

Smoking was something Darlin’ had stopped after meeting Sam. They’d fallen off the old habit, and had only indulged when they were incredibly stressed out, but this was different. They’d gone back to smoking a handful everyday, Sam even catching them trying to put the cigarettes out on their own skin after smoking.

It’s what I deserve. I put all of you through hell, the least I deserve is to feel that same kind of pain.

Sam couldn’t believe the shit they were still putting themself through. The cigarettes, not drinking or eating enough, still not sleeping? If they’d kept this up they’d be dead before the end of the week.

The vampire was trying his best to get some kind of sustenance into his mate, and his pleading eyes only fueled the guilt that nested in their stomach. Darlin’ was slowly trying to get back into eating and drinking water again- they didn’t want to upset Sam more than he already was.

They could tell how exhausted he was. His eyes were constantly bloodshot, constant eyebags, and he was always fretting over them, the little things. Darlin’ knew his intentions meant well, but they hated feeling as if they were made of glass and everybody had to tiptoe around them to make sure they were okay.

The first pack meeting that Darlin’ had attended with Sam after being returned home was tense. The air was thick and heavy, and the silence that loomed over the den was deafening. The two of them walked in, hand in hand, taking seats in the back. Darlin’ would normally just prop themself up against a wall next to Sam, but they knew they wouldn’t last that long on their feet without their knees giving out.

Asher and David slowly made their ways over to Darlin’ and Sam after the meeting had wrapped up, just wanting to do a general check-in. David’s keen eyesight was quick to notice the new circular burns on Darlin’s arms, his eyes peeking over to Sam. Asher tried keeping the conversation light hearted, knowing that David would be tense, moreso than usual, now that Darlin’ was back. Both of them had been a little more than surprised to see Darlin’ showing up to the pack meetings again, honestly thinking that they’d completely skip out from now on.

That wasn’t brought up, though. The guilt of this entire situation was so obviously glinting in Darlin’s eyes, and the last thing anybody wanted or needed to do was make that worse.

***

5 Weeks had passed since Darlin’ was brought back home, and Quinn was sent to hell.

It was a long, hard road back to recovery, and it would still take many months for Darlin’ to become the closest version of themself that they had been before Quinn had taken them.

The cuts, bruises, bites, and markings would slowly fade overtime, half of them disappearing from their skin and the other half calling their skin home for the rest of their life.

Sam’s purple bags had slowly lessened in vibrancy, turning back to that usual paled color under his eyes.

Darlin’s general physical health was slowly upping in condition again. Sam had made sure to keep the both of them on a feeding schedule, making sure they were both getting in the nutrients they needed to survive. Darlin’ moreso, but Sam was working himself to the bone to make sure they were okay, and his mate wouldn’t stop talking his damn ear off until he finally started taking care of himself again.

Things were slowly falling back into the normal groove again. It felt nice- not living in that same flood of fear that they’d been living in for the past few months. Quinn was dead. They didn’t have to be afraid anymore.

Things hadn’t been okay for so, so long. But they would be. Things would be okay again.

#redacted asmr #redacted sam #redacted darlin #redacted fanfic #redactedverse #i tried so hard #i know the ending sucks but this is probably the best thing ive ever written

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mbti-notes · 1 year

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Anon wrote: Hello, I appreciate what you are doing through your blog, it is great help to so many people like me. I’m having trouble typing myself, mainly as INTJ or INFJ, although I could be ISXJ as well although I am less confident that I am. So, the functions that mainly need to be compared are Fe, Te, Fi and Ti. Here, I list the common behaviours I observe in myself, thank you for taking your precious time to read it :)

- I act like how others act in uncertain social situations. I find the person I’m most comfortable with and act like them. I change my enthusiasm level to match theirs, even though I’m usually quiet and don’t talk. I tell jokes if the other person tells jokes. And be serious if the other person is serious. I observe people for their approval before acting a certain way and am seldom the first one to initiate or act a certain odd way. (Fe vs Fi?)

- When I get upset or disapprove of a person’s behaviour, I seldom act out, because I am not confident I can voice myself clearly. I act out in subtle ways, or “rebel” by ignoring what the person tells me. If I get sufficiently agitated to confront the person or the person confronts me by noticing my subtle actions (such as sending them online articles to prove that what they said is wrong), I am more likely to voice out my feelings in subconscious ways (meaning I don’t verbalise what I’m feeling, I just act on my feeling, although I may have intuition on what’s the healthy way to act) (Ni + Te? + Fe? or Fi?)

- I don’t have much opinions, if people ask me why I do things a certain way, usually I don’t have an answer, I just do what conveniently came into my mind, why do I have to justify everything, as long as it gets the job done right? (Te)

- I feel like I consider values of society before acting, although it is out of fear of being judged or scolded by others. However, I have my own values which may be learnt experience and they feel truer to me, like express your appreciation to others, don’t be rude, honesty (which is why I dont lie even if it makes things worse), openness (which is why I have no tact, and reveal things to my boss that affects my image), have good intentions (everyone should treat the other with respect and harbour good intentions) (Fi?)

- I take things very personally, mainly because I don’t know myself very well, so it’s hard to tell what are the root of my mistakes. So I take the safer bet to blame it on myself, so that I feel emotionally motivated enough to work on it rather than forget about it if I don’t blame myself. (?)

- When I am under stress because of an argument with coworkers, I get defensive subconsciously and try to find all ways to pin the blame on the other person so that I’m not to blame. For example, if someone asks me whether I printed papers the right way, and I think through it and realise that I may have done it wrong, I’ll say nervously, “what right way, I just printed it and gave it to our supervisor. XXX was the one who told me what I needed to do, he didn’t tell me about a right way.” (Fi loop?)

- I worry about the future, who I will be in the future, what I will do in the future, what’s the point of life. I’m at a point where I consider myself a cynicist, because it’s hard to accept that I will fail, so it’s hard for me to take any risk to pursue what I want (and also because I’m young and don’t know myself yet). I have random ideas pop out when people point out something, which nobody would reply to usually. (for eg. someone says “wow look at that plane” at the airport which is just a typical plane then to reply, I’ll say “I wish I could go on an A380, it’ll be so cool to go on a plane with 2 floors” to which nobody replies) (Ni)

- I am oblivious to my surroundings, I may not notice things that are right next to me, until I’m panicking or stressed and people point it out to me. For example, at work, they paste little post its near the machines on how to use them, and because there’s post-its all over the place, I don’t bother to read them, and after someone else points it out, it turns out the instructions were right in front of me the whole time) (inferior S, Se?)

- I don’t act if I don’t have to. If I had time, I would spend it in my head thinking about how to best use it, whether I’m using it well etc. And I get caught up thinking whether I’m on the right track, recall what I’ve done the past day, and whether that was the right course of action so that I know whether I have done my part to help myself grow as a person to be more confident and skilled than before. (Ni + Te? or Ti?)

- I’ve been working on both my critical thinking skills because I usually don’t know what I am saying. Like to me, if I could, I wouldn’t reply to a lot of what people say because my mind is blank, my answer to “why do you do it like that, wouldn’t it be better to do it this way” would be it is what it is, I am what I am, I do it like that ditto. So, my replies are basically trying to avoid being blamed for not answering, and usually just a bunch of words as fillers like “yea I didn’t think of that” or “I don’t know”. (?)

- I seldom express my appreciation or even consider others. It’s only after I see someone doing something courteous or after it has happened that I think back that I could have been kinder or expressed my appreciation to them. And I often also worry if I’m being kind enough. I tend to blame myself myself too hard for not being kind to others because I don’t want to be socially rejected by others, and for them to ignore me. (Fe? or Fi?)

- I often judge people and their characteristics (like this guy talks very sternly and confidently, which is intimidating to me, but after talking to him for a long time, it seems fake and just a mindset, and what he says may not actually be correct or as confident as he sounds). However, I am very bad at judging other people’s emotions, I often judge emotions surface level via other’s face which is often neutral or positive, and I seldom see the negative side, although I’m improving, and now I can understand that people may be feeling bad even if they look ok (Fe?)

- I have been called stubborn by others, and unable to change my views because I take things and my views personally. I have been told by some people that I trust less that talking to me is useless because nothing goes into my head to convince me, which could be unrealistic expectation, holding on to my personal values, and also because I am cautious about making any changes because I feel like I’ve already set something of a path to achieve my goals and be who I want to be, and accepting new views is going to be disruptive and put me back at square 1. (Si? because I stay with my routines / path to achieve my goals?)

- I overthink a lot, habitually, because of subconscious emotional forces, likely from my dom function (Ni?) about random ideas and planning / visualising what’s going to happen the next day or the next week etc, due to fear of being blamed at work. I try, but it’s overthinking or just thinking in my head is a part of me, that I can’t really remove like other people.

- I’m not sure about Ti, because I just can’t fathom how interpretation of facts can be subjective. I try to obtain multiple sources of facts, to get an average perspective of what is right, and seldom just believe based on a single person. But once I get an average perspective, I hold on to it quite tightly, and am resistant to new ideas being shared to me because I feel that I already have a righter answer which considers many facts (I know it’s not correct, but it’s subconscious)

Overall, I have been leaning towards INTJ, although I’m not too sure. Thank you for reading through this message, and I hope you will reply, and give me your thoughts on my type :)

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

All type assessment requests must follow the instructions on the contact page carefully. You must answer all the questions from the Function Theory Guide for every function of the two stacks you are comparing. Since you did not follow the instructions, you lack sufficient knowledge of the functions and the information you've provided is uneven and incomplete. The information for dominant Ni and inferior Se is patchy and does not rise to the level of definitive proof, and it is insufficient for ruling out all other types. The examples you've given overwhelmingly support auxiliary Fe and tertiary Ti, whereas there is little to no evidence of auxiliary Te and tertiary Fi. Be warned that seriously misinterpreting these functions indicates that you are operating on too many misconceptions that need to be corrected before you attempt any sort of function development.

#typing #ask

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chthonic-thot · 10 months

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CW: emotional abuse, vampirism, memory loss

We're on the sofa, close together but not touching. The television is on, just to have some background noise while we show each other memes. I smile at her, and I want to make some kind of dumb gay confession, but instead I just say "I'm really glad we're friends."

"We're not friends," she replies. She smirks ever-so-slightly, not looking up from her phone. My heart is in my throat.

"That... that's not funny" is all I can say.

"I'm not joking. We've never been friends." She's smiling a little wider now, and. Why are her canines so long. Was she wearing fangs earlier? I blink rapidly, trying to clear my head.

"That doesn't make any sense. If we're not friends, why are you always inviting me to like, movies and the aquarium and stuff? Why would you be hanging out with me right now?" My stupid voice is starting to choke up.

"Hey, hey. It's okay" she says consolingly, still wearing that damn smile. I can't read the look in her eyes. She shifts against me, wraps an arm around me, and pulls my head into her chest. I flush, more confused than ever.

"Um...d-do you mean that we—"

"Nope! We are absolutely not something more than friends." She sounds delighted. Why is she playing with my hair. I'm overwhelmed. I start to cry.

"I know, I know," she croons. "That's it. Let it all out for me."

"Why?" It's less of a question, more of a sob. Nearly a howl.

"Because I love having this conversation with you, over and over." Through the tears, i can finally make out her expression: ravenous desire. "Because the heartbreak in your blood tastes so fucking good." She snakes her tongue out of her mouth—her tongue shouldn't be nearly that long—and she starts licking up my tears. I whimper.

"Hey, none of that," she chides, tucking her tongue back behind her fangs. "I don't want your fear. We've done this dozens of times. You are so, so safe with me." I sputter out something. "I know, I know. You know better than to try to get away, now." I have no idea what she's talking about. "That's right. There's my good, good girl." What the fuck. Why am I hard. "No worries. No fear. I'll always be with you. Breaking you, ruining you." No. No, this isn't happening...

Her fingers make a fist in my hair and I yelp as she pulls me back into reality. "I need you to stay with me, prey," she growls. "Part of you remembers: this is the most important part." I guess that's why my stomach feels like a pit. Why am I not fighting this

"You're not fighting this because you need me," she whispers in my ear. She hasn't let go of my hair. "You need my attention so badly that you don't care what it costs. You forget these conversations, but the pain stays with you. Like porcupine quills in your mouth. Like ground glass in your gut. But you like it that way." No! I don't. I couldn't. "You can. You do," she gloats. "You hurt for me so, so well. And then that hurt spills over. I'm so proud of you, driving away the people that actually like you." I can't hold back the sobs anymore. I wail, tears and snot streaming. I raise a hand to wipe my face but she grabs it before I can.

I still hear her over my crying. I wish I couldn't. "They'll leave you. Everyone will leave you, except me. And when nobody in the world cares..." she pauses to tease my neck with a flick of her tongue, a brush of her fangs. Then she gets on top of me, as if she needs the weight of her body to hold me down. As if I'm not already pinned by her voice. Her gaze. By that godawful leering smile.

"That's when I'll finally, finally drink you fucking dry." She bites down hard and I scream. My vision starts to fade. I try to focus on the pain; The shame is so, so much worse.

#microfiction #vampire #cw: abuse #totally not inspired by that one fcuking chips ahoy commercial

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sashi-ya · 3 years

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Hi!! ^^ I hesitated to write this request.. but may I get a Law fanfic of a insecure fem reader. A comfort type but happy type ending.. Maybe Law surprising Y/N with something?? I was feeling depressed last week and finally poured out all those emotions, and reading your Law fanfics, since I have absolutely nobody but myself, helped me a lot. Especially the Law x fem bestfriend fanfic.:) It made me so much better and felt loved. This is my first time requesting so I hope this is not bad. Ty<3

My dear!! I’m so sorry to hear you’ve been through hard times. And I’m really really happy that one of my fics could help you out. Law x Best Friend was the very first fic I ever write… I’m literally so thankful with you for trusting in my writings, thank u so so much!!. Let me please make Law help you out a little more… ♥ I hope it does, and please if you need to speak to someone I’m here for you ♥

SFW ~ Trafalgar D. Water Law x F! Reader ~ Tangled Feathers ♥

Tw: A helping, comfort request. Angst & Fluff.

Cw: 751

Lately the days in the Polar Tang have been really busy. Escaping from the marines and all that stuff pirates do, kept your beloved Captain a little away from you. You were feeling bad, spending some days in bed, somedays contemplating life happen from a place where it wouldn’t affect you… but that felt lonely, and you were a bomb of emotions just about to burst.

Law, contrary to what others may think, is a highly emotional and loving man and it didn't take long for him to notice you weren’t being yourself the last few days…

A knock on the door announces someone coming to your cabin. “(Name)-ya, can I come in?” the voice of your captain asks. You sit on your bed, quickly fixing your hair as fast as you could, stretch your shirt and tell him to come in.

“Captain…” you mumble. “(Name)-ya, what’s wrong? You haven’t been eating with us, are you feeling sick?” he asks, like the good doctor he is, Law needs to know if any of his crewmates aren’t feeling ok, so he could instantly fix it. You look at him, eyes filled with tears. And then look down to your fidgeting fingers. You feel ashamed about your own suffering, you think you are being pathetic in front of your captain… the man you are in love with, since the day your eyes crossed back then.

“You can tell me what’s wrong, (Name)-ya” he insists, walking towards you and sitting on your bed. Law places his inked hand over your knee and squeezes it so softly, yet enough to make you feel how much he cares about you. You smile, subtly. Law’s touch is always something that can light up your world, no matter what’s holding your heart in a cage of pure sadness.

“I’m so… I’m sorry captain. I’m a little… depressed” you mumble. “What are you sorry for, (Name)-ya? For being sad? Depressed? That’s not a reason why you should be sorry. I, me, myself should be sorry for not noticing about it earlier, you know” he tells you; pain shows in his voice as he words the last sentence. Law truly cares about you, perhaps… more than you may think.

“No, captain! You… this is not your fault!” you instantly chime, lifting your head up looking directly into his eyes. It’s not his fault, no… it isn't.

“It’s just me, Captain. I’m…”

Law suddenly wraps his hands around you, tightly hugging you. You can’t speak, and words get quickly replaced with tears. Tears that won’t stop falling, tears that run like a river through your cheeks to Law’s shoulder. Tears that seem to wash the pain off your heart… but you still can’t speak. “Just… wait a sec. I’m gonna bring something, ok?” Law whispers, and quickly goes to his room. You keep crying, and crying…

He returns with a little chain on his hands. From the chain, a black feather hangs. “Let me…” he says, coming closer and passing the necklace around your neck. You hold the little feather in your hand inspecting it. “Press it against your heart, like this” he says and takes your hand, pinning it against your chest. “Feel how warm it is?” he whispers.

And it’s true… It feels warm. It feels like love, and caring. It feels like protection. “I do… thank you, Law…” you utter with trembling lips. Law passes his thumb to wipe some of your tears away. “I have had this since… Cora… you know. It’s from the coat that he used to wear, the same coat that kept me warm during cold nights. I have two, I’m wearing one, and now you are wearing the other. Please keep it” he says. You gasp, did he really give you such an important object to you? Why?.

“Are you sure? This is like… your one piece, Law” you ask, really confused and frankly forgetting about the sadness you were feeling. “No, (Name)-ya. My treasure is the love and compassion Cora gave me, my crew, my life… and… you” he confesses, tucking a strand of your hair on the back of your ear. “You are…” he whispers, and slowly plants a peck on your lips.

You can help but smile, instantly, unconsciously… “I love that smile…” he utters, lips lingering over yours. You pass your hands around his neck, hugging him tight, so tight. Feeling how the little chains with the feathers get tangled up one with the other…

“Thank you, Law…” ♥~

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procrastinatingsapphictrash · 3 years

Text

F*cking up the friendship

Word count: 3501

Genre: Angst and fluff

Pairing: Wanda x Natasha x fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol (let me know if I need to add any)

Summary: You sometimes forget Nat and Wanda are dating each other but when they go off on a date you feel sad and add alcohol to the mix, unable to fully control your words around them when they come back.

A/n: I’ve been in a huge wandanat x reader mood recently so you’re probably going to get spammed with a lot of these. Originally this was supposed to be a 1k words get together fluff fic that was suggested to me but then I added angst and other stuff so I decided to make the fluffy get together fic separately. Anyways I hope you all enjoy this, I spent hours yesterday writing so I could finish it in one day.

You sigh loudly as you flip through Netflix, finding nothing interesting to watch. Usually on a Friday night you would be doing something with Wanda and Nat but today they had told you they had a special date planned so you haven’t seen them at all. It was a completely horrible idea to fall in love with your two best friends who happened to be dating each other but your heart betrayed your brain and now you were stuck in this situation, finding it impossible to get over the two most amazing women you had ever met. Spending nearly all your time with them did not help and everyday you feel your heart break a little when they kiss each other in greeting but only give you a smile. You know you should be thankful for their friendship, and you are, but it also pains you to know that there can never be more.

You imagine what it would be like to share kisses and wake up wrapped in their arms. One time when you had fallen asleep on the couch after staying up late watching movies with them Natasha had carried you to bed and tucked you in and Wanda had said goodnight with a kiss on your forehead. You never talked about that night because you had pretended to be asleep but you replay it over and over in your mine, wishing that it wasn’t a one time thing. They are so strong, so kind, so smart and just so amazing in every possible way. It’s fitting that they are together but it also sucks to have to watch the perfect people have a perfect relationship while you pine silently, always trying to be a supportive friend.

You try to think positive thoughts but you can’t help but wonder what they could be doing now which ruins your mood. Nothing on Netflix looks good to watch by yourself with nobody to make fun of cringy rom-coms with or to hide your face in during horror movies. It’s almost scary how much time you’ve spent with them recently and how reliant you’ve come to be on it. Come to think of it you can’t remember the last time they went on a proper date and you start to wonder if by watching movies with them you were actually intruding upon their alone time. You hope they would have been honest and told you if you were but they have always been nothing but nice to you so it’s possible they just didn’t want to hurt your feelings.

Giving up on watching altogether you throw the remote aside carelessly, wincing when it bounces off the couch and hits the floor with a bang, and stand up. Making your way out of the living room and over to the room where the mini bar is you push all the thoughts from your mind, focusing only on the fact that you really need a drink right now. You don’t bother to turn the lights on when you enter the room, heading straight for the bottles and pouring some whiskey into a glass, much more than a recommended size.

Sitting down on the couch you take a gulp. It burns and tastes disgusting, you’ve never been one for drinking but tonight you enjoy the feeling, not drinking for pleasure but drinking to hopefully forget. It takes about an hour before your thoughts get all muddled and you feel more relaxed. You slowly start to close your eyes and drift off to sleep when you are woken suddenly by a thump and a stream of curse words. You startle and your hand jerks spilling the rest of your drink all over your lap.

Natasha and Wanda are standing a few feet in front of you. Natasha is looking at you with an expression you can’t recognize in your inebriated state and Wanda is clutching her foot, looking darkly at the leg of the coffee table.

“Shit.” You mumble loudly, both at spilling your drink and at seeing them while drunk. This wasn’t supposed to happen, they were supposed to still be gone and now you’ve just embarrassed yourself completely in front of them.

“Hey, Y/n,” Natasha is at your side in an instant, cupping your face in her hands, “let’s get you cleaned up okay?”

Wanda is there a second later, hovering. “And then maybe you could tell us what’s wrong.”

“Nothhhing’s wrong.” You slur, standing up. “Goodnight.”

“No no no, you’re not going anywhere by yourself right now.” Natasha tells you firmly, grabbing your arm. You don’t protest, partly because you know they are both stubborn and will always win and partly because you secretly want to spend as much time with them as possible.

“Listen to Nat,” Wanda advises, “can you walk?”

“I can walk.” You say, crossing your arms and trying to look serious

Natasha raises an eyebrow, doing a horrible job at stifling her laughter for a spy. “Show me then.”

You take a few steps forward, looking triumphantly at Natasha before you stumble, arms flailing out and grabbing Wanda to prevent yourself from falling. Wanda helps pull you back up straight and kisses you on the forehead.

“I think the correct answer to the question is no.” She tells you amused. “Let me help you.”

She doesn’t wait for a response and hooks an arm underneath your shoulders to help support your weight. You lean into her and match her steps, frowning when Natasha hurries away in front instead of walking with you.

“She’s just going ahead to grab something.” Wanda whispers, noticing your expression. You feel your entire body shiver from the sound of her whisper in your ear. Luckily she doesn’t mention it and just tightens her grip around you and continues until you’ve reached their shared room.

You stare at the door in confusion. “What are we doing here?”

“Did you really think we would leave you alone when you’re drunk and obviously upset about something?” She asks rhetorically. “We want to take care of you.”

You’re glad she’s holding you up otherwise you’re afraid you would have melted to the floor from her words alone. She pushes the door open and leads you inside. Natasha is waiting and hands you a pile of clothes. You recognize the bottoms as Wanda’s favourites and the top as Natasha’s shirt.

“For me?” You ask, confused. She had handed them to you but maybe she actually wanted to give them to Wanda seeing as it’s their stuff.

“Yes for you silly,” she says smiling, “are you able to change by yourself in the bathroom?” You nod, feeling slightly more sober now.

“Okay just be careful and call if you need us.” Wanda tells you before stepping away from your side. You already miss her warmth but you pretend to be unaffected and head into the bathroom to change.

It takes longer than usual, in part because you accidentally tried to put both legs in the same hole at first, but you managed to undress and put the pajamas on. They’re soft and smell like a mixture of them and you will deny it if asked but you hold the shirt up to your nose and breathe it in before realizing how weird that is. Walking back out of the room you shift nervously, unsure of what to do with both Natasha and Wanda staring at you intently.

“Come here sweetheart.” Natasha says and you immediately comply, heart pounding at the endearment, sitting down beside her on the bed in between her and Wanda. “Do you want to tell us why you got drunk now?” You shake your head furiously, only stopping when it starts to make you nauseous.

“No, I don’t really-” You get cut off by your own yawn, suddenly very tired.

Wanda giggles. “Let’s get you to bed now.”

You start to pout, upset that you have to leave and go back to your room but before you can move she uses her powers to gently float up the bed to the pillows, pulling you with her. Natasha joins you and cuddles you from behind so you’re pinned between them. Your eyes feel so tired but you try to fight sleep, wanting to stay in the moment forever.

“Goodnight Y/n.” Natasha says and you stop resisting and start to relax.

“Night Tasha I love you.” You tell her sleepily. “I love you too Wanda.”

“Sleep well Y/n.” Wanda replies, giving you a short kiss on the top of your forehead. You feel so warm and safe between them and it only takes another minute before you’re fast asleep.

---

You try to move but something strong and warm is holding you down. Your eyes fly open and the first thing you see is Wanda’s face, inches from your own. Natasha must be behind you because you can feel her wrapped around you and her small breaths blowing the back of your head. It’s nice but you can’t remember how you got here so you wrack your brains, ignoring your headache. You were sad so instead of watching a movie you started drinking, then they found you and then they took you back here and after that-SHIT. Shit shit shit shit shit you had told them you loved them.

You aren’t naive enough to believe they think you meant it in a platonic way, you never tell your friends you love them and Natasha and Wanda are both really smart and can easily tell what you’re thinking. You just hope that they don’t tease you about it because you don’t think you could handle anything but being let down gently.

“What are you thinking about?” Natasha asks from behind you. You hadn’t realized she was awake already but somehow she noticed you are, she’s scary with how much she knows sometimes. As much as you know this conversation will be awkward and painful you know there’s no point in delaying it and it’s best if you have control over it.

“That I’m sorry.” You tell her.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” She says gently, sitting up, understanding what you’re referencing.

“No I do, I made things weird and I didn’t want to do that.” You say, hating yourself for the lump that forms in your throat. You start to untangle yourself from Wanda, trying hard not to wake her. This conversation is difficult enough with one person, if Wanda wakes up you’ll most definitely start to cry and the last thing you want is for them to feel bad or to pity you.

“Y/n-” She starts but you interrupt her, not wanting to hear it.

“I hope we can still be friends.” You say making your way to the door before pausing. “Please tell Wanda I’m sorry and that I need some time to myself for the day but after that I will pretend nothing happened.”

“Y/n, please-”

This time you cut her off by closing the door. You run to your room. You don’t think she’ll try to follow and catch up with you but you don’t want to take any chances and you certainly don’t want the others to see where you’re coming from and your shame to get deeper. You are stupid, so stupid, you shouldn’t have gotten drunk and you should have kept your stupid mouth shut. Their friendship means everything to you and although Natasha didn’t seem like she would stop being friends with you over it things will definitely be awkward for a long time and you’ve seen friendships crumble because of it.

Luckily you make it to your room without anybody noticing and you take a few breaths to calm yourself, closing your eyes. It helps for a second but when you open them again you’re looking straight into your mirror and you can see yourself wearing their clothes and immediately feel the tears start to come. You jump onto your bed and bury yourself fully under the covers, trying to stop crying because you don’t deserve to, it was your fault, and crying only makes everything worse, including your headache.

---

Natasha shakes Wanda awake only to hear her groan and shift, attempting to fall back asleep.

Rolling her eyes she tries again. “Wanda. Wanda. Wanda wake up.” Wanda moves slightly and lets out incoherent mumbles before waking up more and sitting straight up.

“Where’s Y/n?” She asks alarmed, remembering you were here when she fell asleep.

“That’s why I’m waking you up; she left.” Natasha tells her and Wanda frowns.

“Why?”

“Because we messed up and now she thinks we don’t love her.” Natasha explains. “She thinks that she ruined our friendship by telling us she loved us last night since we didn’t say it back and she left before I had time to correct her.”

“Oh crap.” Wanda says, thinking about how things seemed for you. From your point of view you had drunkenly confessed your feelings to people in a relationship before falling asleep with them not saying it back.

“Yeah,” Natasha agrees, “I know we weren’t planning on doing the thing until this evening but I think we should do it now, we can’t let her be upset for any longer.”

“You’re better at talking so you should get her while I set it up.” Wanda says and Natasha nods in agreement.

“Be as quick as possible, we will hopefully be there in ten minutes.” Natasha tells her before giving her a quick peck. Wanda sighs dreamily, imagining what it’s going to be like when she is dating both you and Natasha (provided you say yes of course but Natasha is certain you will and she trusts Natasha).

Leaving her room Natasha quickly makes her way to yours and knocks on the door.

“Go away.” You say and she can’t stand how sad and self loathing you sound just from those two small words.

“No,” she replies, “I need to talk to you.”

“Please.” You beg, your voice cracking in desperation. You can’t see her right now, not like this. She doesn’t listen, hating to ignore you but knowing that if she talks to you she can hopefully make it all better.

“Oh Y/n.” She sighs upon opening the door and seeing your lump under the covers. “Sweetheart it’s going to be okay.”

“No it’s not, I fucked up our friendship Nat!” You cry out, still refusing to show your face.

“No baby you didn’t.” She tells you, the endearment accidentally slipping off her tongue in her attempts to comfort you. “Please just give me a minute to explain some things.”

“Okay.” You sniffle, both confused and curious. You hate that you’re even a tiny bit hopeful at her words and you attempt to squash those thoughts down to spare as much of your heart that hasn’t already been hurt.

“I would love to see your pretty face when I talk to you.” She prompts, gently lifting the edge of the covers. You slowly peek out of them like a turtle, well aware and slightly embarrassed of the fact that you look like you’ve been crying (which you have but it’s still embarrassing).

“There we go, that’s much better.” She tells you smiling. Even though you’re upset you can’t help but crack a wobbly smile back at her, her happiness really is infectious. She stares at your shirt as you pull more of yourself out from under the covers and you flush when you realize that you had never bothered to change and are still wearing her shirt.

“It looks nice on you.” She says softly, reaching out to touch the hem before clearing her throat and switching into business mode. “I think you got the wrong impression.”

“I know I never should have-” You start to apologize, scared of her shift in mood.

“That’s exactly what I mean.” She interrupts. “You seem to think that you’ve ruined our friendship by telling out how you feel but I can assure you that’s not the case at all and we are actually both extremely happy about your feelings.”

“Why isn’t Wanda here then.” You ask skeptically.

“Because she’s in the living room where I’m supposed to bring you.” Natasha replies. “Will you come?”

“I don’t know,” you say nervously, “are you sure that…” you trail off, unsure of what else to say.

“Y/n,” Natasha says and suddenly you’re all too aware of how close she is to you, “it will be good I promise.”

As soon as she finishes speaking she leans in and her lips are on yours. It’s better than any of the times you’ve dreamed and it’s the perfect mix between hard and passionate but also soft and sweet.

“Wow.” You breathe when she pulls away after a few seconds, unable to think of anything else.

She laughs. “Wanda’s going to be jealous that I got to do that before her and as much as I’d love to kiss you again we shouldn’t keep her waiting for too long.”

You nod silently and take Wanda’s hand when she offers it as she stands up and starts to walk out of the room.

“Wait,” you say just before you leave, “maybe I should change first.”

She looks over your (well technically their) clothes. “You are not changing, I like you wearing our stuff.”

You’re surprised to hear the slight possessive growl in her voice but it makes you incredibly happy. The start to this day had to be one of the worst in your life but it’s quickly becoming the best. Feeling as though you’re floating you allow her to pull you through the halls into one of the living rooms, the one you usually use for watching movies.

Wanda is sitting on the couch looking at the door when you come in but what catches your eye is the sheer amount of stuff around her. There are heaps of all your favourite candies and chips all around her and there’s a cute stuffed bear.

“Do you like it?” She asks and instead of answering you let go of Natasha’s hand and throw yourself at her, wrapping your arms around her waist tightly.

“I think that means yes.” Natasha says, laughing at your enthusiastic reaction.

“I love it,” you tell them, “I love-” You stop yourself before you tell them you love them again because even after all this you’re still not sure if that’s what they want to hear.

“We love you too Y/n.” Wanda says and you sigh in both happiness and relief at her words. “Nat do you want to give her the thing now?”

You pull away from Wanda to look over at Natasha, curious as to what the thing is. Natasha picks up a small red jewelry box from the table that you hadn’t noticed earlier in your excitement and hands it to you. They both watch as you open it, suddenly nervous that you won’t like it.

You open it up to see a necklace with two charms on it and two charms that are identical lying beside it. Upon closer inspection you gasp, recognizing the the letter charms n and w as the same ones Natasha and Wanda wore on their necklaces, reminding them of each other. The charms lying beside it are the first letter of your name, presumably for them to add to their necklace. You feel yourself tear up at how sweet and thoughtful this gesture is.

Wanda breaks the silence first. “This is what we were doing yesterday and it took all day because they were custom made so we wanted it done by the same person so it would look the same. We thought it would be nice for us to give you this when we officially asked you out so you don’t feel like an outsider or anything because we really like you and want things to go well.”

“What she’s trying to say is will you go out with us.” Natasha says, halting Wanda’s rambling.

Wanda smiles sheepishly. “What she said.”

You slowly look up, careful not to let any tears fall and launch yourself into their arms, pulling whatever part of them you are holding towards you.

“I think you already know the answer by now but I would love to.” You say, still trying to get as close to them as possible. They wrap their arms around you tightly and moving together they lift you a few steps to the couch and plop you down, sitting and cuddling on either side of you.

“Today’s movie day and we’ll take you on a proper date tomorrow.” Natasha promises and you hum happily in reply. You don’t care at all about what type of dates you go on or even if you go on them at all because you’re dating the two most amazing women in the world and that’s a high you’re going to be riding for a long time, possibly forever.

---

Taglist: @cherryblossomskye @aaron-despair @thewidowsghost @nyx-aira @stephanieromanoff @stop-drop-and-drumroll @peggycarter-steverogers @casperlikej @redswing @mxxnmocha @king-star

#natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat x reader #wandanat #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #marvel fanfiction #x reader

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concerningwolves · 3 years

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Hi! I hope you are doing well 💕 I’m writing a deaf character and I really wanna do it right so I’ve investigated a lot and your blog has been really helpful! So I wanted to ask- My character is supposed to be a guard (Like Royalty™️ and shit™️) so I would Like to know How she could fight and in general any tips you think could be useful for this character

Writing a Deaf Bodyguard (& Deaf characters in action scenarios)

► GENERAL TIPS

● TREAT YOUR d/DEAF CHARACTER AS HUMAN. (Or dragon. Or orc. Or... whatever species they might be.) Point is, don't become so afraid of misrepresenting deafness that you put the character on a ridiculously high pedestal. The fact of the matter is, one day they will likely meet an adversary who beats them. It might be because they don't hear something vital, or it might be because fights are messy, chaotic and brutal, and nobody can win all the time. They're allowed to struggle and ask for help. They're allowed to fail sometimes. They can screw up! They can lose a few fights! Everyone does these things; you don't need to cut out flaws just because the character is deaf.

There's also a strong narrative reason for doing this: you need action scenes/stories to have believable tension and conflict. These things drive the plot and keep readers hooked! If your d/Deaf character never seems to be at threat and powers through all fights, all you're doing is a) singling them out as 'Other', and b) weakening your narrative.

● DON'T WRITE THEM AS A BURDEN. You seem to have this one in the bag already, Anon, but I think it bears saying anyway. Yes, your character may fail and need help, but their deafness doesn't make them inherently weak or a liability.

The line between this point and the previous one may seem fine, but it boils down to this: are you consistently highlighting the fact that your character is deaf and using that as an excuse to belittle, side-line or otherwise diminish their value? Or are you saying 'this character is deaf. they may need accommodations and face certain obstacles a hearing person doesn't, but they're no better or worse than anyone else for their deafness'? If the latter, you're doing fine. (And really, anything is better than the former...)

● LET THEM HAVE SUPPORT AND ACCOMMODATIONS. There aren't accessibility accommodations on the fighting field, true – and certain adversaries will no doubt take advantage of that. But that doesn't mean your character's employers wouldn't give them accommodations or provide support. In this bodyguard scenario in particular, employers are going to do everything they can to help the bodyguard do her job. They don't want the person under protection to die, after all!

In a more general sense, just having other people in the characters' group look out for them and respect their needs is massively important. (This one is particularly true for survival and apocalypse narratives, where deaf and disabled people are usually presented as a burden). Maybe your bodyguard or fighter works as part of a team who help them with deafness-related obstacles. A support network doesn't negate your character's deafness – it just shows them getting the support they need.

As for accessibility aids, these will vary depending on the worldbuilding. Research assistive devices and aids for the deaf that are available in our world, and adapt them to fit your storyworld. Or, use your imagination and invent some cool James Bond-esque spy gadgets that would put Q to shame.

Some aids I imagine would be very useful are:

proximity sensors (so people can't sneak up on them). Maybe a watch with a sonar-type display?

sound detectors, such as flashing bracelets that light up to indicate different noises

vibrating jewellery/tie pins/shirt cuffs etc that alert the wearer to certain “danger sounds”, like a gunshot or an unsheathing blade

discrete hearing aids that won't get pulled out in a fight (if your character uses HAs)

That’s by no means a comprehensive list though, and obviously other factors like technology, available materials and magic/Sc-Fi elements will give you more to work with.

► FIGHTING AS A DEAF PERSON

This is where you'd need to research on your own more, but I do have two starter tips.

1) Research the accommodations made for and the stories of d/Deaf professional fighters (boxers, martial arts fighters, wrestlers etc). Take note of what difficulties they face, what their trainers and sports officials to do accommodate them, and how they overcome obstacles. Here's an article about Reece Cattermole, the UK's first Deaf registered boxer since the 1970s.

2) Your character will fight like anyone else; the difference is in how they rely on their senses. Hearing people can tell when someone is coming by footsteps, breathing, and other noises. Naturally, your deaf character will have learned how to use their other senses to compensate for the lack of hearing, but be careful how you write that. It's frustratingly common to see a sensory disabled character written with inexplicably enhanced senses, i.e., "character is blind but their hearing is SO GOOD they can basically use echolocation to see. It's like they're not even blind!". In settings where powers exist, this isn't so bad, but for non-powered characters it's... not good.

Think about Toph from Avatar the Last Airbender. Toph is a really good example of a disabled character in an action setting who isn't defined by her disability, but doesn't have it erased, either. She's blind and an earthbender, which means she can bend/has an affinity with earth. She can therefore sense vibrations through the earth and navigate like that, but she still can't see, and the narrative doesn't forget it. That's the sort of middle ground you ought to find.

Good luck with your writing, Nonny!

Also, if any d/Deaf people following me have experience with martials arts and fighting, your input would be very welcome! (*^▽^*)

[ Ko-Fi | FAQ & Ask Guidelines ]

#deaf characters #writing advice #Anonymous

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seasonofthewicth · 3 years

Text

nobody does it like you do - act 1

I'm finally back with some more rowaelin! I started this fic in november last year and wrote the first 10k in 24 hours, but from then on this fic was a struggle... Thank you so, so much to @morganofthewildfire for sharing so much of your time to help me with this, this fic would not be here without you 💗 I'm so happy to have finally finished it and can share it on here. I hope you enjoy

CW: past drug abuse, minor character death, violence

7.7k - masterlist - ao3

When her agent sends her the script it’s not the first time she’s heard of Rowan Whitethorn, his name is written at the top under the heading director, which itself is under the big red text reading confidential. He’s been at this stuff for a while now, directed a couple of movies that popped up on her radar but that nothing ever came of for her, and he’s well known in the business.

He was even nominated for an Oscar a couple of years ago, and she watched the ceremony with Lysandra, slapping the bills into her outstretched hand when he didn’t win.

His movie had been far too fucking raw for him to have won, she knew that, a tale about a group of kids who witnessed a murder and how it stayed with them and fucked them up into adulthood, but it had stuck with her nonetheless and she’d put her money on him anyway.

She reads the section of script Dorian has sent her, tucked up in bed with a glass of sparkling water and her most comfortable sweater, leaning back into the mountain of expensive pillows she had Elide buy for her and pondering how so much money could end up so uncomfortable, and she knows it’s something special.

She realises she wants this role, almost to an uncomfortable degree, when she’s about five lines in. The heroine is bratty and rash, but serious and pained in a way that makes her completely fleshed out and Aelin wants to play her, wants to be her and embody her in a way that takes her out of the pit she’s in.

She hopes this could be what gets her out of it.

Aedion had tried to pull her out, gods bless him, dropping by her apartment every morning for weeks to check up on her with a coffee in his hand, topped with cream and two sugars the way he knows she likes. Each morning he let himself in with her spare key, the one she gave to him the day she moved in, wanting him to be able to let himself in whenever he wanted but also knowing there was no one else she wanted to give it to.

She would have given it to Sam, would have given everything to Sam, but he’s gone and she’s left sitting here, wondering how to salvage what’s left of her reputation.

What reputation she had even managed to build after starring in one mediocre TV show and a handful of low-budget movies. She knows deep down, and in a way her brain likes to remind her of when she’s at her lowest, that the main reason she isn’t a complete nobody is because she’s Evalin Ashryver’s daughter. Her therapist tells her every time she bothers to go to a session that having a famous mother doesn’t mean she’s a failure and that she has to recognise each of her successes as her own. She nods along every time, but she doesn’t believe her. What has she managed to accomplish truly on her own?

It hasn’t been made public yet that Rowan Whitethorn is involved in the film, she only knows because Chaol wrote the whole script himself and texted her to let her know when he signed on to direct. She’s known Chaol since she was eighteen and took her first solo trip to Rifthold, drawn to the lights of the big city and the almost magnetic pull of the heart of the industry. He’d stumbled upon her in a club she was far too young to be in and had pulled her out, sending her home in a cab that he paid for. Looking back she was grateful for his attempt to avoid what she knew later was an inevitability.

She had cursed him when he told her she’d still have to audition, but she gets it. She hasn’t exactly behaved in a way recently that makes people want to take a chance on her.

Stumbling out of clubs, eyes as wide as saucers and high as a fucking kite isn’t the kind of star casting directors are desperate to hire, but she’s trying to be better. She’s promised those around her that she’ll be better, and she knows that the only reason she hasn’t ended up in rehab is that she has an incredible therapist and a highly persuasive manner of dealing with her friends and family. The only reason they’ve taken that chance on her is time, and she’s grateful for that mercy.

She turns the page, hitting the final line for the third time. Chaol’s script is so good she’s read the few pages she’s been sent over and over.

She only reads scripts in physical copies, takes the time to print them out using her shitty printer that belongs right back in 2008, and she knows it’s wasteful but she allows herself that small luxury of the crisp paper in her hand as she delves into each new world. Her character is in the middle of a teary monologue that she knows exactly how she’d do, the way she’d halt her breath and choke out the words-- it’s not her character. Yet.

The audition is next week, and she’ll work her ass off to make sure she’s ready. Her usual pre-audition ritual involves taking up far too much of Lysandra’s time to practice reading the lines and filming herself time after time, take after take, and watching it back in the unholy hours of night until she’s happy she’s made an improvement.

Or at least that’s how she used to do it, nothing has made her want a role like this in a long while. She worries as she bites her lip, that wanting something this much means she’s getting over Sam. That maybe one day she won’t think of him and hear the pounding in her ears, won’t feel the lightheadedness that comes with a memory of their time together. Worries that if she forgets the sounds of his screams she’s failing him somehow.

She takes another sip of her sparkling water. It’s poured into a wine glass so she can at least pretend she’ll get the relaxation she craves. Alcohol was never one of her vices but she finds it’s better to be safe than sorry. It’s unhealthy as far as coping mechanisms go, but she’s been worse so it’s going down as a win.

Chaol told her some guy called Brullo is casting this one. She’s never heard of him, which is kind of rare. She’s been on the periphery of this bubble for pretty much her entire life, following her mother around her own movie sets and sitting on the wooden directors chair when her legs still dangled off the side, but if he’s like any other casting director in Adarlan she knows how to impress him.

When she reaches the last line of the part of the script she’s been sent, her mind wanders again to Rowan Whitethorn.

He’s the kind of director up and coming actors can only hope to one day work with, even though she’s pretty sure he can’t be much more than thirty, he’s built himself to a level where he can be choosy with his projects.

It's a well deserved privilege. Each of his works has stayed with her after watching, his style is gritty and dark, but grounded in a way that leaves her empty each time after finishing.

She wants this, and she buries the guilt she feels for that. Sam would want her to want this. She deserves it, or at least she hopes she can come to.

Dorian books her a mid-morning flight so she doesn’t have to wake too early before the audition, he’s a damn good agent and one she definitely doesn’t deserve with his seemingly endless patience, but she’s continuously grateful for him.

Aelin styles herself for it, ties her hair back and leaves the makeup to a minimum in a way that she hopes shows them she’s right for the part, that she can be the insecure little girl who experiences far too much. She knows she doesn’t have the sheltered innocence the character has, but she’s an actress and this is what she does. Aelin pretends for a living.

He’s also booked her a room in a pretty nice hotel for the night, she’s not sure whether he’s used her meagre acting funds or the funds from the account she knows he mom throws money into every month. It’s an argument she and Evalin have had repeatedly, she wants to stand on her own two feet, but she never protests too hard. The account kept the roof over her head when she was too busy snorting her life away to consider where her next paycheck would come from.

Aelin throws herself backwards into the crisp white bedding on the hotel room bed and takes a deep breath. The only luggage she brought with her is a carry on slung somewhere by the door and the room feels too empty to sit here and wait for the car that’s arriving to take her to the studio in just over an hour. If she sits here and waits the nerves will only build, and then she’ll itch for something to take the edge off.

She picks her phone up to text her cousin.

Jet lag from a 2 hour flight. Who would have thought?

Aelin waits two minutes for a reply, locking and unlocking her phone as she sits there, but one doesn’t come. Aedion’s probably at a training session and not checking his phone. Aelin runs a hand through her hair, careful not to dislodge the pins she placed carefully in it this morning, she needs to stop using him as her crutch. She knows he doesn’t mind, but it’s not right either way.

She needs to get out of this room.

The streets of Rifthold are busy and crammed as she meanders down them, clutching the takeout coffee cup she bought from a vendor with a stall at the side of the road.

People pay her no mind as she walks, the oversized shades hide her eyes that she knows are a dead giveaway for her membership of the Ashryver line. Even if she didn’t wear them, everybody else here wants to be someone, and so far she can still blend in if she tries.

She sends a text to the assistant organising the audition, it’s kind of shitty of her but she keeps it brief because she can’t remember their name, letting them know the car isn’t needed anymore and that she’ll make her own way there. She needs the stroll through the streets to clear her head.

Aelin needs to nail it. She hasn’t felt the twisting of desire so sharp in her stomach for a long time and the only way she’ll manage it is with a clear head.

She alternates her breathing with sips of her coffee, the taste is bitter but she keeps drinking. She pulls her phone out to check the directions to the studio.

Spontaneous isn’t a word Aelin would use to describe herself anymore, any longing to go with the flow died the minute she lost control. It’s safer now to plan, to make sure she won’t lead herself astray.

Brullo is a man in his mid forties, with dashes of grey seasoned through his muddy brown hair, and kind lines around his eyes as he smiles and shakes her hand. Aelin wipes the sweat off her palm on her jeans before clasping her hand in his.

The audition goes about as well as she can hope for, she remembers every line, and the other casting director is fairly natural reading the lines for her to act against. Aelin swallows back her tears after she finishes, trying to keep what dignity she can to end the audition when there’s snot threatening to run down her upper lip. It was a brutal scene to start with, but if she can pull this off she can surely manage the rest.

Brullo’s expression is carefully guarded as she leaves, giving nothing away, but Aelin thinks she did a good job, which is all she could have ever hoped for.

She’s staring at the tiled floor, mulling over Brullo’s parting words, thanks Aelin, our people will be in touch, when she hits something hard and warm.

She’s too busy dissecting those eight words to register exactly who it is with their hands clamped around the top of her arms, steadying her as she stumbles, but she looks up and her gaze meets that of a pair of striking, green eyes.

The man gripping her is easily over a head taller than her, broad and strong enough that she fights back the shiver that wants to roll through her at his touch. He’s staring down at her, the strong planes of his face drawn into a deep frown, with his strangely coloured eyebrows pulled in.

They’re a kind of silver that matches his short cut hair, and it shines in the fluorescent light of the hallway in a way that it can only be natural, but she’s never seen a shade quite like it.

“Sorry,” she manages to stutter out, still thrown from the vulnerability of her audition.

“It’s alright.” His voice burns through the words, his accent rolling in a way that raises hairs down the back of her neck. He flashes her a dangerous grin and she steadies herself. She knows what that look means. She’s used to the male attention, and as much as she hates to acknowledge it, she knows her looks are an element of how she’s got as far as she has. That and her family’s name.

The decision of whether to register in the guild as Aelin Ashryver or Aelin Galathynius was one she had spent hours deliberating over. Did she want the level of independence Galathynius would give her, or the reputation being an Ashryver would bring?

The man releases his grip on her shoulders, but not before running his hands down her arms until he reaches her wrists which he releases with a light squeeze. She takes an almost imperceptible step back, leaning back to breathe some air into her lungs. All she ends up doing is filling her mind with this man’s smell, inviting and intoxicating, a delicious combination of pine trees and snowy winter mornings.

“I don’t usually go around slamming into people like this,” she tells him, letting some of her snark slip through. He’s said two words to her so far but she knows he can take it, and she wants to play.

His grin becomes even more wicked and it truly is a sight to see. This man is built like a god; broad, muscular shoulders stretching the white button up he wears and she spies the dark lines of a tattoo threatening to slip past his collar.

It’s been a couple of months since her last mindless hook-up, and this man would more than do. The mischief glimmering in his eyes tells her he’d know how to make her gasp and beg.

“Slam into me anytime.” His words are a sensual croon and her mouth drops open slightly, but he sidesteps her before she can manage to speak again, nodding towards the door she’s come through. “Good luck with whatever you were here for.”

With that he’s gone, leaving her to turn and watch the way his grey slacks pull against his thighs as he walks away from her.

Aelin tries not to think too much about the outcome of the audition, and flies back to Orynth in economy class with a sleep mask tucked over her eyes lest she be recognised when all she wants to do is curl up in bed and be alone for a bit. That or get fucking wasted, and she can’t do that.

She tries far too hard to forget about the man from the hallway, forget about the way his voice had rumbled deep in her chest and the tug in her belly that his words had sent through her.

She begs Elide to come to a bar with her, and she agrees. Aelin needs to pay her more, maybe change her title from publicist to publicist-come-part-time-therapist-and-life-saver. Aelin’s not sure she has the budget for that really.

Elide would smack her if she knew Aelin’s thoughts. Would scold her for looking at Elide just like an employee as if they weren’t childhood friends and Elide hadn’t been there holding her hand through the whole Sam thing. As if she, Lysandra and Aedion hadn’t been her only reason for being here now.

A bar might be a risk, but she can sip her sparkling water while she browses the small selection of men that Orynth has to offer.

She enjoys the easy conversation she has with Elide, chatting about what their friends have been up to, even though most of them are mainly Elide’s friends at this point. After Sam she stopped speaking to everyone but those who were necessary. She couldn’t manage any more than that.

“You should come with us next time,” Elide is saying as she sips her own lemonade. Aelin knows Elide would normally choose a crisp glass of white wine over a lemonade and her sobriety solidarity touches her heart.

“Maybe,” she shrugs, noncommittal.

The look Elide wears tells her she’s debating pushing the issue for the millionth time against the risk that Aelin would pull back again. She hates that she does this to her friends so she sighs.

“Text me next time,” she tries. “I’ll see if I’m free.”

Elide offers her a thankful smile, and Aelin returns it, trying to tell herself this is what she needs and that she shouldn’t just stay locked up thinking about Sam.

There’s a dark haired guy at the bar catching her eye, his jeans are far too tight and his shirt is ridiculous, but she can see the body beneath and his face is striking. Elide notices her stare and smirks.

She likely knows why Aelin invited her out tonight, but doesn’t mind. Lorcan’s probably waiting for her at the home they share, waiting for her to come back so they can be in love. Aelin hates the bastard, except she doesn’t. She introduced her friend to the tall, dark and grouchy hockey player at the wrap party for the shit teen movie she did a couple of years back, and she’s big enough to admit she wants what they have.

She had what they have.

What’s left in her glass slips down her throat easily in one mouthful and she promises to text Elide tomorrow before slipping out of the booth and over to the guy at the bar.

“You going to just stare at me all night?” She asks with a sly smile. “Or did you plan on doing something about it at some point?”

His smile makes him look even more attractive.

“Maybe I was waiting for you to make the first move, a beautiful girl like you can be intimidating.”

It’s a shit line and she rolls her eyes, but tugs him into a cab back to her place anyway.

“Please.” Her voice shakes as she begs. “Please don’t do this.”

The man in front of them scoffs and Sam squeezes her hand, his palm rough against her own.

“Aelin, baby. It’s okay, just do what he says.”

He lets go of her hand and turns back to the guy in front of them. His face is covered by a black mask, only two slits show her the dark brown of his eyes. She can barely look away from the knife he holds out in front of himself, it’s pointed at Sam but that doesn’t make her feel any better, it makes her feel worse in fact.

“Your wallet,” the guy demands.

Tears are rolling down her cheeks, fat and hot, as she fishes around in her bag for her purse.

“Just dump the whole thing,” the guy growls, irritated, but she’s pretty sure she’s going into shock and she can’t focus. Can’t breathe.

Sam’s voice is steady by her side as he throws his own wallet onto the street in front of them.

“Alright, man. We’re doing everything you say.”

“Hands up.” The mugger’s voice is sharp. “Don’t fucking move.”

She raises her arms straight in the air, trying to control the way her hands are shaking and the attacker ducks down to grab their things.

She lets out a tiny whimper and feels Sam spin to her, his eyes begging her to trust him. No, she shakes her head.

“I said don’t fucking move,” the guy yells and lunges for Sam.

His scream cuts the night air and she whirls, hands dropping into the air between them as he drops to the ground. The mugger takes off, sprinting down the empty street and she falls to her knees by Sam’s side.

In the dark, the pool spilling out across the floor by Sam’s side just looks black, but she knows that really it’s red. She’s not stupid. His face is twisted in pain and her hands flutter around his torso before she manages to pull back the flap of his jacket.

There’s a hole in his white t-shirt and now her jeans are wet where she kneels.

She needs her phone, needs to call someone who can make this all better, but her phone is gone.

She presses her hands against his side and his eyes shutter closed as he gasps. His breathing is stuttered and uneven.

“Sam. Sam, no,” she cries. “I’ll get help. You’re okay.”

“Aelin.” He raises a hand to press against her cheek, and the blood on it is sticky and warm.

“No, Sam. No, stay with me.”

The scream that tears through her throat will hurt tomorrow but now she barely feels it. “HELP!”

His breathing becomes much quicker as she presses on his side and screams again.

She knows abstractly that she’s crying, tears and snot streaming down her face as she desperately presses her hands against his side.

There’s a strong arm around her waist, tugging her back and away from Sam, and she screams one word over and over.

“No, no, no, no.”

There are people here now, leaning over Sam, leaning over his body.

“NO.”

Aelin gasps as she launches up in her bed. The sheets are stuck to her clammy skin and her head flies to the side. The guy is gone, the side of the bed he occupied when she fell asleep now cold. Good.

She lives it over and over in her dreams, sees the dark street more often than not, feels the phantom warmth of his blood down her legs. Wakes screaming herself hoarse just as she did that night. She doesn’t normally let people stay the night. Even when Aedion tried for the first few weeks after the fact, she couldn’t sleep, couldn’t turn her brain off for even a second. Every time she closed her eyes she was back on that street, begging and pleading for him to open his eyes.

She grasps at her side for the switch of her bedside lamp and flicks it on. Her room is cold and empty and she hasn’t had it in her to decorate past the basics so it’s plain and impersonal when she looks around, trying to calm her breathing.

She checks the time. 6:25am. Not bad, she must have managed about six hours of sleep last night, and it’s more than she usually gets.

There're a few texts waiting in her inbox, including one from Elide, and she expects it to be a request to let her know that she got home safe but it’s not.

Call me as soon as you wake up.

Sent at 6:02am. Elide is a chronic overworker, no matter how much Aelin begs her to stick to a 9 to 5 schedule, but she couldn't imagine her friend any other way. The smiling emoji at the end of the text lets her know it’s nothing she needs to panic about, so she takes a moment to scroll through her other messages. It’s unusual for her to wake up to so many.

She clicks on her conversation with Dorian, the only message she can see, his most recent one, just says Aelin. He has sent her nine messages while she slept, and she scrolls up to reach the first one.

Aelin, you did it. You booked the Rowan Whitethorn movie.

Her heart pounds in her chest, running into overdrive as she processes the words on her screen.

She got the part. She fucking did it.

This is one of those moments she knows she’ll remember.

Dorian has forwarded over a number of contracts and official things but she ignores them in favour of dialling Elide’s number.

“Aelin!” Her friend’s voice is breathy when she answers. “Congratulations, I knew you could do it.”

“Thanks, El.” A pause where she takes a deep breath in. “I can’t believe it.”

She falls back onto her mattress, pressing a fist to her lips as she smiles, eyes closed, almost giddy as she listens to her friend talk.

“They’re putting a press release out today at 12:30, announcing you and the male lead, who I haven’t found out yet but I will.”

“Oh my gods,” she sighs, covering her eyes with a clammy hand.

“I know,” Elide laughs.

She allows herself one tear as she stares up at the white of her ceiling.

This is big, she can feel it.

Later her phone buzzes as Elide sends her links to two different articles breaking the news.

Fenrys Moonbeam and Aelin Ashryver to star in new Chaol Westfall drama. More to follow.

Rowan Whitethorn signs on to direct The Crescent City, the latest project from Chaol Westfall (Throne of Glass, The King’s Hand & more).

She presses the phone to her chest as she lets out a sigh of relief.

It all moves pretty quickly from that point.

She’s on a plane back to Rifthold the next day and Chaol has sent over the whole script for her to read on the plane, bypassing Dorian completely even though that’s how it normally goes and she knows the two are like brothers.

Chaol was the one to introduce her to Dorian, and they kind of took her under their showbiz wings in the first few years she began to get really serious about acting.

They gave her the inside scoop, having been in the industry for a few more years than her. Chaol writing and making movies and Dorian doing all the background stuff like contracts and negotiations and exposure. They took her to their wrap parties that everyone knows are just networking events and introduced her to some of the big names in the industry without so much as batting an eyelid, and she knows she owes them a lot.

The script is phenomenal, and she has to try and hide the tears that form when she reaches the end, it probably wouldn’t be the best start to the project, being photographed crying on the plane on the way to start shooting. It really is some of Chaol’s best work, and she sends him a text when she lands that says fuck you, I hate it, but his reply lets her know he knows she’s joking.

It tells the story of her character, Feyre, and how she’s dragged into selling drugs to pay for her mom’s hospital bills. Along the way she meets Fenrys Moonbeam’s character, Rhysand, the glowering bad-boy who’s well established in the gang and together they see some shit and do some shit but manage to get out together. The topics are kind of cliché and over done, but Chaol has managed to add a level of originality to it that makes it really special.

It’s heavier on the romance than Rowan Whitethorn’s previous projects, but it’s gritty enough that she can see why he’s signed on. It’s going to be hard, she knows this, and it will really push her to her limits trying to embody the range of emotions her character goes through. But she wants it, and she will make her performance incredible if it fucking kills her.

There’s a niggling part of her brain that reminds her that she’s surrounded by some big names on this project, names that are big for a reason, and she can’t let them hiring her be a mistake.

She sends Chaol a follow up text, wtf are these names btw???

He ignores her.

When she’s in the car taking her to the apartment the studio is renting out for her while they film she decides to take a little trip through Instagram and look up her new co-star. Fenrys is a household name by now, a couple of years in after his debut, but it can’t hurt to know a little more about her leading man.

f.moonbeam01 comes up as the first option when the types the three letters f e n into the search bar and he has over eleven million followers.

Shit.

Not that she needs a reminder but it slaps her in the face that this is actually big. Aelin only has a few thousand followers herself and Elide has already told her to prepare herself for that to rise.

His Instagram is a mixture of mostly photos of himself, some selfies and some professional shots, and he’s obviously gorgeous. His deep brown complexion playing well against his golden curls with a straight strong nose and flawless white teeth. He’s definitely leading man material, and she can tell just how charming his grin is even through a screen.

There are also promo pictures for all the movies he’s involved in at the moment, there are at least three projects he has coming out this year. Damn.

His most recent picture is a screenshot of the article announcing their casting, and he’s actually tagged her in the photo along with Rowan himself. She hasn’t seen the tag until now, it’s normally Elide’s job as her publicist to tackle the professional side to her social media, but there’s 6.4 million likes on the photo.

Again, shit.

She can’t help herself from clicking onto Rowan’s account, rowanwhitethorn is a pretty simple handle. He only has 27 posts, most of them are behind the scenes shots from projects, one with his classic director’s chair that has his surname printed across the back in thick white lettering, and a few pictures of different cameras and pieces of equipment.

There’s only one picture of him on there, and it’s from 2017. He has his back to the camera and the sunset behind him lends a shadow that covers all of his features. Very artsy she muses to herself as she double taps the screen to like it, he probably won’t see anyway, the notification will probably get lost in the ones his account no doubt gets from his 2 million followers. The only thing she can gather from the photo about his physical appearance is that he has pretty broad shoulders.

She’s tempted to google him, wanting to know what he looks like, but she feels a bit too much like a stalker, and she knows she’ll meet him in a couple of days anyway so she leaves it and pulls up her emails to reply to the seemingly endless list of forms she has to fill out and send back to Dorian.

The apartment she’s living in for the next few months is modern and airy, with clean lines and bright decor. Aelin likes it, and while it’s not hers in the same way as her home back in Orynth, it’s far better than a hotel room that lower budget movies tend to shove actors in. Another reminder that this time is different, there’s a bigger budget than she’s used to, bigger names than she’s used to, and she can’t fuck this up. There’s more eyes on her now than ever before.

She sends Elide a picture of her new bedroom and her friend just replies with a bunch of exclamation marks and she forwards the picture across to Lysandra too. Aelin wanders through to the kitchen, wondering if anyone bothered to stock the kitchen, not that she can’t do groceries herself, it would just be nice. She’s delighted to find a fridge full of fresh produce and gets about making herself a dish of pasta and veggies.

She tucks herself in front of the big television, munching away as she watches some National Geographic documentary about whales and it helps to take her mind off the fact that this is her last night of peace for a while. She’s trying not to get too in her head about it, there’s a fine line between knowing it’s a big deal and freaking the fuck out about it, and she needs to stay on the right side of that line, needs to keep herself in check.

If she allows herself a moment to relax, a moment to sink into the situation and bask in the opportunity; she’s excited.

And depending on how well this movie does, she knows she may not have another night like this one. Somehow the thought doesn’t seem to scare her.

Lysandra calls her as she’s waiting for the car to arrive to take her to the studio, it's day one of their table read today and she’s tired. She spent all of last night tossing and turning, unable to shut her mind off and panicking over every single detail of how this day could go.

She’s lucky it’s only a table read, she’s not sure even a professional make-up artist would be able to cover the dark circles under her eyes.

“Hello, you.” Lysandra’s voice is cheery through the phone and Aelin smiles, she’s really missed Lysandra and hasn’t taken nearly enough time to seek her out during her recent whirlwind. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

They had texted since the news dropped, but with Lysandra shooting a campaign for a brand she can’t remember somewhere over in the Southern Continent they haven’t had time yet for a call.

“Thanks Lys,” she says as she gets into the back of the sleek black car that the studio has sent for her, tucking her small black backpack onto the seat next to her. It’s all she can use at this point, any other bag just makes her think of that night.

“How’s it going? Have you met everyone yet?”

Lysandra runs in these circles of A list celebrities and Aelin wouldn't be surprised if she already knew Fenrys. She met Lysandra when they were teens; years before her first show for Victoria’s Secret, years before she was walking for people like Gucci and Prada, and they stayed close when they were both living off cheap ramen and thin strands of hope. Aelin likes to tease her about hanging with a lowly C-lister like herself but Lysandra is always quick to quip that she’s maybe a G-lister at a push.

That could change.

“I haven’t met anyone so far, but I’m literally on my way to meet everyone now.”

“That’s exciting, you’ll have to let me know if Fenrys Moonbeam is really that good looking in person.”

“So you don’t already know him?” she asks, teasing. Maybe Lysandra doesn’t know quite everyone.

“Oh you know, apart from every week-end when we hook-up, we’re not really that good friends.”

Aelin laughs, mostly to herself, knowing that somewhere out there that probably is a story that’s cropped up in some cheap tabloid. She knows there’s probably some dating rumours about herself and Fenrys already even though she’s still yet to meet him. It’s just how it is, she knows this, has known this since she was old enough to read the stories about her parents’ messy divorce.

“What does Aedion have to say about that, hm?”

“Oh, he joins us obviously!” Lysandra’s laugh is bright and loud through the grainy speaker.

No-one is more desperate for Aedion to propose to Lysandra than Aelin, not even the magazines, desperate for a scoop of the golden couple, quarterback for the Rifthold Ravens and the world-famous supermodel.

“I think I’ve heard enough, thanks,” Aelin laughs as the car pulls through security checks at the studio. “Lys, I have to go, I’ve just got to the studio.”

“Okay, good luck! Promise you’ll call me later though and let me know how it goes.”

She needs to make sure she puts aside a minute to catch up properly with Lysandra, she’s been slacking recently and she knows her friend misses her. She misses Lysandra too, and Aedion. Maybe she’ll stay with them for a couple of days when she gets a break from filming, she can probably see them far more often now that she’s in Rifthold too.

“I promise,” she agrees. “Tell Aedion to make sure he spoils you from me.”

Lysandra snorts, “Oh he does, I’ll pass it along anyway though.”

“Means a lot. Love you, got to go.”

Lysandra’s returning love you is sincere, but she cuts off the phone as the car comes to a stop outside the plain brick building.

She readies herself in the back of the car, pulling down a deep breath to center herself, she can do this.

The girl leading her to the room doesn’t speak other than to tell Aelin to follow right this way, and she’s grateful, she’s not sure she could speak right now without vomiting all over the dated linoleum flooring.

She needs to get a grip, and fight the urge for a hit that strikes her when she’s nervous like this. It could make her fears disappear, at least for a moment before they all came crashing back down ten-times worse the minute the high faded. There is a reason she packed that shit in, and she knows her nerves will pass. It’s been a while since she’s done any of this, her last movie read was pre-Sam and no matter how hard she tries to push it down, there’s a lot of pressure on her for this to go well.

The girl pauses outside an unassuming white door and holds a hand out to gesture for Aelin to go in. She rolls her shoulders back, holding her head high before she steps into the room. If all else fails she’s still Evalin Ashryver’s daughter and to some people that is something to be proud of.

Fenrys Moonbeam is the first person to catch her eye when she steps into the room, and it seems he’s done some stalking too because he ends his conversation by the food table with some others she doesn’t recognise and bounds straight over to her with a grin.

“Aelin Ashryver,” he says, his voice deep and smooth like velvet. “I’ve heard of you. It’s a pleasure.”

“You have?” She’s both surprised and not at the same time as she holds a hand out for him to shake.

He bypasses the hand she holds out and tugs her into his chest, wrapping both arms around her and knocking her backpack off her shoulder.

“I have,” he says as he bends down to pick her bag back up. “Sorry about that.”

She shakes her head. She needs to stop acting like a bewildered school girl meeting the Queen, she needs to remember that she has second billing for this movie thanks to Dorian.

“Don’t worry about it.” Aelin finds a smile and plasters it on.

Someone calls for everyone to take their seats and she notices the name placards spaced out in front of each chair. She locates her own and it's surreal to see her name printed there, Aelin Ashryver, between Fenrys and another actress playing her sister called Manon Blackbeak. She’s even less known than Aelin, and she only feels slightly guilty for how much that relaxes her.

Aelin knows how this goes down, they sit opposite the production team, the director and all the executive producers and she realises that she’s opposite the sign that reads Rowan Whitethorn.

She slides into her seat, Fenrys and Manon chatting over her head as she does, and she spots a male slipping into the chair opposite her. He’s wearing a slim-fit forest green henley and dark jeans, his shoulders are just as broad as they were in his Instagram photo and here there’s no shadow across his handsome features.

She can’t deny that he’s attractive, she knew it the first time she saw him. Her stare locks onto the man from the hallway after her audition and he smirks at her as if they have a secret. And maybe they do, but now she’s realising that he’s her boss, and a little voice in her head that sounds suspiciously like Elide is whispering to her that opportunities like this don’t come around everyday.

She owes it to Sam and she owes it to herself not to fuck this up, but the look that Rowan Whitethorn is sending her across the table makes her think she could risk it all.

It takes them three hours to run through it in full, and she’s happy to see she’s not the only one with a tear in her eye at the end. Rowan doesn’t cry, but he hasn’t looked at her since before they started and each time she read a line she avoided looking at him. She knows there were a couple of times where he nodded along with her expression of the lines. She’s ignoring it.

This is what she lives to do, they’re not even filming yet and she feels like she’s right where she needs to be. It’s cliche but she breathes easier when she acts, the air feels lighter when she takes on a new personality and feels all the things she’s told to feel.

It takes away the restlessness she feels when it’s all just down to her, being told how to feel is far easier.

Her therapist tells her she has both anxiety and PTSD, but she feels like giving it a name doesn’t make it any easier to deal with. She knows a diagnosis can be a relief for some, but to Aelin, what she feels is far too messy to be summed up in four letters. Her life has simply become the before, and the after, even though what each of those contains is a complete fucking shit show.

There are two Aelins; pre that night and post that night.

The Aelin from before that night doesn’t exist anywhere but in her own memory.

Once the run through is completed and basic notices are given by the producers, things like call sheet distributions and health and safety, the occupants of the room begin to mingle. She sees him make a beeline for her, and she swallows. She’s not ready for this.

“You look surprised to see me.” His voice is as hot as it was the last time she saw him, the slight rasp in his throat and his accent. Gods, the accent.

“You don’t look too surprised to see me.” She tilts her head at him because she feels way thrown off, like he has all the power here. Which he does. But like, she can play it cool. Fake it ‘til you make it, right? “Maybe had a little google search?”

He shakes his head at her, biting his lip kind of like he wants to laugh, and she bristles. She needs to level the playing field.

“Says you.” He’s definitely laughing now. “I saw you liked my photo last night.”

“What about it?” She shrugs, hoping her acting skills are up to it. He only tilts his head to the side as he takes her in.

“Do you think I didn’t know who you were in the corridor? I’m the director.” And fuck him for saying it like that, full of an easy confidence that in any other situation would have had heat pooling in the floor of her stomach. “Brullo discussed the casting with me.”

Right. Of course.

She’s not sure what to say next. Honestly? She kind of wants to flirt with him, but fuck.

Instead she hums a laugh, not really caring whether he thinks it’s sincere or not, and looks absentmindedly around the room instead of back up at him. He reaches a hand out to brush his fingers down her arm, looping them round the bones of her wrist and squeezing slightly like he did the last time before letting go. Her eyes snap back to his.

“Just between you and me?” he asks and the smile he wears is far too hot for her to deal with right now. “I think we made a good choice.”

“Thanks,” she says, but it’s a little too breathy. A little too dazed for having spent such a short amount of time in his presence. She’s aware that she needs to be careful, they are very much not alone in this room right now, and she doesn’t need to start any rumours that would destroy her chances of escaping this without a scandal.

She’s here to do a job, and she’s going to do it well. She doesn’t need any distractions.

He leaves her soon after that, and his parting remark of “have a good first day, Aelin” sticks with her, and she tries not to replay the way his voice had wrapped around her name.

Manon Blackbeak is watching them from across the room, and she arches one perfectly shaped eyebrow at Aelin. She ignores her; let her think what she wants, she’s surely professional enough not to gossip to any press, and stomps over to where Fenrys is chatting with one of the producers. It seems like a good enough place to start.

#rowaelin #rowaelin au #rowaelin fic #throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #nobody does it like you do #ndilyd #im so nervous to post this lol #hope you all enjoy #cw: past drug abuse #cw: minor character death #cw: violence

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sexycowpoke · 3 years

Text

[Masterlist]

[Overwatch Masterlist]

Mccree Fluff Alphabet

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Well, this cowboy thinks everything of you is attractive... But if he needs to say what he’ll say your eyes. Those eyes are hyonotic and have attracted him since the first day he saw you. He says those are full of adrenaline and perfection. And the way you look at him. Damn. If he could. He’ll stay looking at those beautiful and playful eyes full of passion and love ‘til his last days.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

Sometimes it comes to his mind. And he would love to have a family of his own. Especialy with you. He would love having little cowboys or cowgirls all over the house is his only dream. He wants to call his children with cowboys/cowgirls names. Lke Bonny or Cody. He’ll teach them ho to use a gun and he’ll buy them a nerf and a pony. But this doesn’t mean that your future child won’t be a pet. If it’s a dog. He’ll call him Jack Daniels and nobody will change his mind over it. Ever.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

Ohh~. He loves cuddle as much as he loves his lovely serape (the red “scarf” he wears). Even more. You'll be cuddle in bed. On the sofa. On the chicken table. And when it’s cold you’ll share his serape and when it’s hot you’ll cuddle even in the pool. Everywere and everytime. He’s very romantic and very soft. And if you return after a long day he’ll go stright over you. Take you on bridal stile and take you in your shared bedroom for some confort cuddles. And he’ll never leave you so easly. Only for going to the bathroom. But that’s the only time. Btw he doesn’t mind if your the big spoon when you cuddle and snuggles. And touch hi hair while doing that. He’ll love you even more.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

They’re very romantic. And for the big flirt he is. He’ll take you to a walk on a beach or in a park. Even watching a movie and then both of you sleeping and spooning each other on the sofa or everywhere you were waching the movie. But. At the same time. Your dates will even be when your on mission together. Like. Your fighting some omnics or spying someone. For him they’re all dates. And when you spy and follow someone. For not getting caught. You two end up making out. Like. When the person looks at his back. Mccree will litteraly just pin you on a wall near you two and immediately starts kissing you... And you know what it happens if you weren't on mission👀. Ok I’m out *vaporizes*

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

You are my sunshine. You’re like the sun of his earth. The sugar of his sea. The yee on his haw. You know what I mean. Everything. If he didn’t meet you he would never know what really love is. He can be himself when he’s around you. And he can fell loved after a very long time.

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

As I said before. When you tow made eyes contact for the first time. You where the new supporter. And you already did show some ass while talking to Gabriel when he said you couldn’t help them. While you and Gabriel arguing. Jesse was practing with Genji. And when he hear you two fighting. He turns around. And BOOM. Love at first sight. He also stoped practing and come over you training defending you. Even if you were capable of that. When Gabriel knew that he lost the fight. He tells Mccre to show you the place. He didn’t even had the time to finish that Jesse said already yes and taking you by your hand while showing the place. And you two introduced yourself while he shows you around :)

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

O’course he is. He’s second name indead is gentle. Well. Actualy. His second name is deadeye but... Yeah... You know what I mean partner 👀

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

He loves holdind your hand. It gives him protection. And he’ll find every excuse to stay close to you. Everyone. Like one time he said “Darling, it’s freezing... Can I hold your hand?”. He doesn’t even care that much about other people opinions. Cause the only things he thinks in this beautiful moment is you. Your beauty. Your future together.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

When he saw you the fisrt he was like “Shit, I’m in love” thing. He was very curios about you at first but when he started to know you well he was always more in love than before.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Sometimes. Mostly is when other people watch you from up and down. Others are when people are flirting with you. And when it happens he'll wrap hi arm around your waist and pull you closer.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

He has two mods:

This:

And this:

He's very passionate in both ways.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

You said it at the same time. I know right? It happened the same day you two kissed forthe firt time. After you kissed both of you said those three beautiful words full of love and passion.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

His favourite memory is when he was on a mission. And you where at home. Since you missed him. A lot. You take his hat. That he forgets that morning. And one of his shirts. When he returns he see you on the sofa with one of his shirts and especially with his hat covering your beautiful sleeping face. He immediately takes a lot of photos and then takes you to your shared bedroom on bridal stile.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

Yellow. You reminds him happiness an love. In fact. Sometimes he gifts you sunflowers :)

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

Yes, and a lot. You want something? You already have it in less than a second. He treats you like a queen.

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

His favourite non-modern thing to do with you is reading books before going to bed.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

He use mostly "Darling", "My love" ,"babe" and "Sunshine/Sunflower". But he calls you "Baby doll" or "Doll" too 👀

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

Remember when I told you he loves cuddles? Yep. You'll cuddle on the sofa or in bed while cuddling and spooning each other. Talking about what happened the other day.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

When your sad he doesn't know much well what to do. But the first thing he'll do is hugging you and tell you your beautiful and noone will hurt you. If his sad he'll going to hug you from behind. Hiding his head on your shoulder. With one hand your going to though his hair. With the other one your taking one of his hand that are hugging you by your wrist. Telling him that it's fine and that you love him. While sometime kissing his forehead.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Everything. He just wants to be with you. Indeed he'll talk about what happened this days and other stuff. Obviously. Trying to make you smile.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

He always relax when you play with his hair. Most of the times he relax so much. That after five or ten seconds he's already sleeping on your shoulder or on your nap.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

He's proud of finding you and he loves to show everyone how you belong to. And you know what I mean 👀

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

He proposes while on a mission. You were blessing everywhere. "Darling, please don't leave me now" "O'course I won't love" "If we can get out of this... Together...." "Would you like to be Ms. Mccree?" "*Couches*...I would really like that Jesse"

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

His song will be "Put your head on my shoulder" by Paul Anka slowed ver.

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

O'course. He would love this. Especially after he encountered you. Cause before he didn't even think that he'll fall in love with someone. But then he meets you. And his plans changes.

Z Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

It'll be a dog. Like I said before. A boxer named Jack Daniels. And he'll be like a son. Especially to Jesse.

[This Fluff Alphabet is from here]

#overwatch x reader #overwatch #overwatch mccree #overwatch jesse #overwatch funfictions #overwatch mccree x reader #blackwatch mccree #mccree x reader #jesse mccree x reader #jesse mccree #mccree headcanons #overwatch headcanons #headcanon #fun fiction #x reader

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scribblingfangirl · 3 years

Text

WITH LOVE, THE GOSTS | Julie and The Phantoms - Part Three

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Author’s Note: I decided that this fic trilogy occurs a year after the season one final, making Julie and Y/N almost (or already) 17. Also… this part turned out waaay longer than expected. Which is why there is going to be a fourth part because I have one last idea but didn’t want to rush to write it. And to think this all started because of a rushed (haha) 1k Oneshot. I should really start to write more spontaneously, it seems like good things come out of it. Anyway, Enjoy! :D

word count: ~ 3.9k

summary: Even after meeting the boys they still aren’t tired of helping you out and they each have their own little ways to do it.

warnings: // (english is not my first language, not beta-read)

| PART ONE | PART TWO |

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Knowing that ghosts existed was an absurd feeling (even though you had always believed or hoped that there was more out there than just this world, especially with all those planets that had been discovered by NASA), but knowing that there were three certain ghosts that liked you enough to kindly haunt you, well… that was just plain unimaginable somehow. Yet, still less anxiety awakening than you expected.

After Julie let you meet the guys for the first time you thought you were prepared to accept that you would not be able to talk to them unless they played something (after all, you had Flynn to groan about that), but the occasional giggle from Julie and her glances into nothing still sent chills down your spine.

So you started to always look around very suspiciously whenever you were over at her house and make obscene hand movements just to be sure that the boys would move before you walked somewhere or sat down (which just earned chuckles from Flynn and annoyed sighs from Julie - “Just because you can’t see them, doesn’t mean they can’t see you. They know where you are, so please stop, or else my dad will call your parents and send you to Dr Turner as well.” The boys found it hilarious and liked to imitate you whenever they came too close to you.)

The boys also still kept doing little things for you, just not so in secret anymore (though… Reggie was never one for subtlety). Whenever you seemed to have had a bad day (or whenever they just wanted to make you smile) you knew you could count on them having something prepared for you.

You soon discovered that anything related to food (which sometimes were extremely odd and bizarre combinations) was Luke’s doing (except for pizza and meatballs, according to Julie that was always Reggie). And you knew it was Alex whenever it was something more calm and soothing, yet sometimes a little bit clumsy. And whenever it was blatantly obvious and/or slightly weird (in a good way!) it was Reggie.

Well, no. Not always in a good way. One time you came back from school and your whole room was filled with glitter and butterflies and a small note with a little ‘Sorry!’ on it was pinned to your desk - cleaning that had been a pain in the a-. But you couldn’t be angry at Reggie, even though you weren’t quite sure what his ultimate goal would have been.

Speaking of REGGIE...

All those helpful little deeds and nice gestures were always done within the limits of your house (mostly room) or Julie’s house and the studio, which is why you almost let out a loud yelp when suddenly during a math test your pen started to move on his own, filling out the empty space (because yes, you hadn’t been doing very much other than staring helplessly at the paper in front of you). Quickly you grabbed the pen as well (loosely and while trying to ignore the fact that you were practically holding hands with one of the guys) so that nobody would see a floating pen as you did a few weeks ago at Christmas.

From the corners of your eyes, you saw Julie slightly move her head towards you, as if she was listening to you - or rather someone right beside or behind you. ‘Of course. I can’t see them, so the only way to help me is by physically grabbing the pen, but Julie can hear and see them, so they (whoever this is - because let’s be honest, none of the guys really looks like a math genius) only have to tell her the corrects solutions and how to get there. My money’s on Alex.’

You were kind of shocked, and weirdly proud when Julie came up to you after class and said: “Reggie’s not so questionable after all, huh?” (Though… you should’ve guessed it, you did say subtlety wasn’t Reggie’s strong suit.) So you just giggled and shook your head while leaving some of your books in your locker (alongside the fact that Reggie was probably almost (if not!) hugging you from behind - you shuddered at that thought, it’s not like you were already awkward around living boys your age, no need to add ghosts to that list!)

A week later you and Julie entered the studio with blank faces and hanging shoulders. Julie threw a weak little wave towards the piano and sighed while you threw the blankets and snacks you were holding carelessly on the ground and let yourself fall face-first onto the couch, not being able to hide your smile anymore.

“We got our math exams back… yes the one Reggie helped us with.”

You couldn’t see what Julie was doing, but you heard her gasp and whisper “No! Reggie…” after a while. Then she was standing beside you, nudging your shoulder and willing you to sit up, but you didn’t bulge, needing a few more seconds to wipe the smile off your face again.

Faking to disgruntledly accept defeat as Julie’s nudges got stronger (the couch was really comfortable, you totally understood Luke now) you sat up and looked at Julie. “Who’s going to tell them?” you said with a heavy voice and felt how the couch dipped beside you. Raising your eyebrows you quickly glanced to the side (obviously not seeing anybody or anything) and looked back at Julie questioningly.

She nodded, telling you that it was indeed Reggie and gave you the okay to drop the bomb.

You sighed as you turned back around, facing the wall on the other side of the studio and hoped that Reggie would ignore the fact that you were probably talking to his ear or something. “So Reggie… the help you gave us on the math final? Well…,” you couldn’t keep your face straight any longer and jumped onto the couch, “WE ACED IT! I WOULD HUG YOU IF YOU WEREN’T MADE OUT OF CUTE AIR!” (Okay… maybe there was a little bit too much serotonin involved.)

Julie added smiling, “And I’m happy to announce that due to my good grades my father allowed Julie and The Phantoms to play at the upcoming Summer Music Festival!”

A guitar riff filled the studio, followed by a short drum intro and with a ‘puff!’ the boys appeared in front of you, beaming and glowing at the news. Reggie even threw a wink at you when you smiled back and said: “Thank you!”

Don't look down 'Cause we're still rising Up right now And even if we hit the ground We'll still fly Keep dreaming like we'll live forever But live it like it's now or never!

This allowed LUKE…

The music festival was an experience you would never forget. You were very happy Ray managed to persuade your parents to let you accompany Julie (sadly Flynn had no such luck). Not only did you turn 17 and the boys made sure to have the whole crowd sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you (as soon as you were back home you would add an extra point to your to-do: ‘find out how to kill ghosts a second time’), but the boys rocked the stage and Julie stood up taller and shined brighter than ever before.

Gone (yet not forgotten) were the painful shocks and the fear of never performing again and the serenity of the guys was visible.

It was the last night of the music festival when Julie got the phone call from her father. He would come by to get her the next morning and they would drive directly to visit other family members and spend the rest of the summer holidays there.

Of course, Julie was excited to see her cousins and aunts and uncles again, but she also felt bad to leave you to drive back alone (you had come with your car jam-packed with all the necessary equipment you needed and that wasn’t provided by the festival).

“Don’t worry! It’s only a four-hour drive! I’ve got good music, podcasts and audiobooks to keep me company and back home Flynn will be waiting. It sadly looks like I’m going to survive without you.”

Early the next morning Julie and some newfound fans of Julie and The Phantoms helped you load the equipment into your car and you said goodbye to Julie. Expecting the boys to just directly puff back to Los Feliz you didn’t waste any time and entered your car, connected your phone with the stereo and started to blast your favourite Broadway musicals.

You must’ve been on the road for half an hour when suddenly the playlist stopped and ‘Wake Up’ started to play.

So wake that spirit, spirit!

Confused you scrunched up your nose and touched the touch screen displaying the music system, trying to change it back to your playlist. But instead, the music changed yet again.

(Don't stop me now) 'Cause I'm having a good time (Don't stop me now) Yes, I'm havin' a good time I don't want to stop at all

“What the hell?” you muttered, staring at your stereo for a quick second before focusing back on the road, “Why you always going crazy on me dude?”

Once again the music switched.

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too?

It took you a hot minute to understand what was going on and then you couldn’t stop laughing.

Don't laugh at me, don't call me names Don't get your pleasure from my pain

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said mockingly, looking at the empty passenger seat, guessing that that’s where your invisible friend was sitting. “Your pain? I’m not the one who is able to puff wherever and whenever their heart desires and who sneaks up on innocent people.”

Silence.

“For what it’s worth. I’m sorry. I really am. It’s not like you choose this life, you deserved better than this. But I’m really glad I was able to get to know you. I’m really thankful for the light and happiness you brought back into Julie’s life.”

Don't you worry 'bout a thing

But I'm still learnin' to

using technology

You laughed. “Impressive skills nevertheless. Knowing three fitting songs and then changing them at the right time? Let me guess, Luke? Because I don’t think all of you three would fit into my tiny car full of musical equipment.”

At first, there was no music yet again, but then the slow melody of a (for you) well-known song flooded your car. It was the one Trevor Wilson song you never understood until you met the boys, the one song that was so totally different to his usual rock sound (except for the refrains, which, as you later would find out, were parts of the original lyrics Luke wrote for his version of the song).

I sing to remember the stories that used to be But I don’t write to create what could have been And as I scream words into the darkness around me They come out like a dying whisper

The kindest thing to do is to silence them and let them die To unleash my heartfelt sorrow into the sky And diminish the will to fight That pulses like fire and screams with pain through my veins

But life’s not always beautiful, it’s rare So I’mma chase it, watch you make it

Don’t need to introduce himself You will want to know his name Pushing your foundations down He is here to stay

Don’t call him a breeze when he’s a hurricane Don’t call him a tremble when he’s an earthquake Don’t call him an inconvenience Please just say his name

Leaving lyrics in my hands That I swallow like pills Like hurtful words, they rip and claw And press painfully against my chest

But no matter how painful they are I will soak them up, thinking of our hopes and wishes And as each word pushes a new pulse through my veins I keep staring out on the grave of our shared space of mind

Life’s not always beautiful, but it’s rare So I’mma chase it, watch you make it

Don’t need to introduce himself You will want to know his name Pushing your foundations down He is here to stay

Don’t call him a spark when he’s a lightning bolt Don’t call him a flicker when he’s a raging flame Don’t you dare to underestimate him Please just say his name

But even when the word flood finally comes to an end Fidgeting hands remind me of music never played

I owe him my voice I owe him my sound

So I give him this time I give him this space To sing it out loud To let him declare And let me be proud

What’s his name? (His name is Luke!) What’s his name? (His name is Luke!) What’s his name? (His name is Luke!)

How long do we say his name? (Until we explode!)

My name is Luke! (Tell your friends!)

Tears were rolling down your cheeks, the song now more emotional than ever before. You couldn’t imagine how this song must affect Luke. Thinking that his bandmate abandoned him (which honestly… he kind of did, only mentioning him in one song, not giving any money to their parents and so on) up until he heard the song for the first time.

“Luke…”

Forget about it Let's forget about it

The ensuing silence wasn’t awkward. You hummed along to the music Luke selected, sometimes it were old classics (probably his favourites), other times it seemed to be random newer hits he probably never heard before mixed with some songs from your favourite playlists.

It was nearing midday and your stomach made itself known. As if on cue a road sign hinted at a diner just up ahead. Setting the blinker you pulled into the parking lot a few moments later.

“I hope you don’t mind. I know home’s only like an hour away, but...” you began to trail off, not knowing where to look at and your stomach finished your sentence. And before you were able to grab the door handle it sprung wide open.

“Uh, what a gentleman. Thank you very much.”

The meal was over in a flash and once more you realised how much the boys actually knew about you without having actually interacted with you (perks of seeing other people without being seen themselves?).

It’s like Luke could read your wishes just from your facial expressions. Whenever you needed salt or pepper they were right there. Whenever something was too salty or had too much pepper on your drink was being pushed closer to your side. And when you accidentally spilt something and needed more napkins they magically appeared.

When you then spotted a cute little guitar keychain that reminded you of Luke that was being sold as a souvenir at the check-out it was suddenly safely tucked into your back pocket (though that was really really risky, and while you did not condone it you couldn’t really stop a ghost).

Back in your car, you didn’t even bother to turn on the stereo, knowing that Luke would take over as soon as your hands were on the steering wheel again.

However, a glance to your right presented you with a map of your surroundings, a big x hastily drawn over the Silverwood Lake in San Bernardino, which was basically just around the corner.

“You want to go swimming? We- I just ate! And my bathing suit is somewhere under that mountain of equipment on the backseat.”

Let's just get naked, just for a laugh Let's just get naked It's a trip and a half

You laughed at that, rolling your eyes and shaking your head, before stowing the map away and turning on the car. “I guess catching Reggie in the shower isn’t enough anymore?”

Hey!

“You started making it weird buddy.”

It had started to rain when you finally pulled up in your driveway, but you couldn’t be bothered to rush inside, enjoying the feeling of the cooling wetness on your skin.

“Look at that,” you said to nobody in particular, not knowing if Luke was still around or if he puffed back to the garage, “I didn’t even need to go swimming after all.”

He was. Sitting in the passenger seat, face on his arms while he leaned on the open car window, he watched you dance in the rain with a smile on his face. He was glad he decided to stick around and keep you company on that road trip. You gave him the courage to listen to My Name Is Luke for the first time (and getting to see you smile while showing off his impressive music knowledge was a bonus too). Because without knowing, you were doing little deeds for the boys too.

And made ALEX…

Whoever wrote that “Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass. It's about learning how to dance in the rain”-quote totally forgot to mention how dangerous small summer storms can be.

Well sure, it might have been your fault for staying out for too long and deciding to let the sun that came out a little bit later dry you instead of changing into fresh and dry clothes, but whatever happened happened and you got sick. (It’s not like you had anything better to do during the last few days of your summer holidays, right?)

Flynn had been a great friend and hung out almost daily at your house, playing board games, watching movies or tv or even just discussing upcoming Julie and The Phantoms possibilities with you. But your dearest little helper had been Alex.

The blond drummer had turned into the tall brother you never had but always wanted (focus on tall because the age thing with ghosts is seriously confusing) even if he was invisible to you 100% of the time. You had the same interests and were able to bond without actually having to say any words, little gestures and reciprocations on your side were more than enough.

Julie had come up with an easy solution and had bought you some of those sound buzzers (like the ones that dogs and cats use to communicate with their owners) and recorded some simple words and phrases the boys liked to use on them. Now the boys just had to press them to be able to communicate with you without having to use pen and paper or Julie herself (sure your parents were a little bit weary and confused, but you said it was for a longer school research project and that shut them up).

Now, feeling way better than during the last few days, but still very tired, you were sitting in your bed, not really focused on the tv show (or was it a movie?) that was playing on your computer. You had been contemplating and mentally preparing yourself to get something to eat and to drink for the past 15 minutes, but the thoughts alone were exhausting and binding you to the bed. Just then a tray with a water bottle, meds and a fruit bowl floated into your room.

Suddenly wide awake and full of energy you clumsily jumped out of your bed and grabbed the tray, throwing a quick glance out of the door to see if your parents were around and slammed the door shut, wincing at the loud sound and hoping that Alex had walked out of the way (not that it would have hurt him, but you know - rude).

“Rude.”

See? He thought the same. (Julie had to specifically add this word for Alex.)

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. But I would like not to get murdered or have Sam and Dean Winchester on my back because my parents think I’m possessed and need to be exorcised.”

“Me.”

“You what?”

“Me.”

“Alex… I need more context.”

“I do. Me.”

You just blinked blankly at the sound buzzers, trying to piece together what Alex was trying to say.

“Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. M-”

“THAT’S ENOUGH Y/N! WHATEVER THAT SCHOOL PROJECT IS, TELL IT I HEARD IT AND I DON’T CARE WHAT IT WANTS!” you heard your father's scream come muffled through the door.

The audience laughter from sitcoms filled your room and you groaned, grabbing a pillow and smashing it against your face.

Faintly you heard the telltale sound of a pen scribbling something on paper and when you peeked from behind the pillow a note was floating in the air in front of you. “You mean exorcise ME! You would be the one surviving!”

“What? Oh my god… yeah okay, YOU get exorcised… same thing. Both aren’t allowed to happen. Forgive my fever brain.”

“No.”

“Fork you, Alex.”

“No.”

“I have Carlos on speed-dial, I’m sure he already came up with other methods to get rid of ghosts other than the salt thing. He already told me that he’s sorry and that he thinks I might get haunted by you too with the amount of time I spend at their house.”

“No. Food.”

Confused at that topic change it took you a few seconds to answer. “What?” Looking around your gaze landed on the tray that you had deposited on your desk. “Oh right! Boy, I completely forgot how thirsty and hungry I am. Did I say thank you? Fang u!” you mumbled with your mouth full of fruit.

“No. Food.”

You swallowed down your food and took a big gulp of water. “Yes Alex, thank you. I am eating. You see? Here I am, here’s the food. The food is here and now whoops - ifs gan!”

You could basically feel the annoyance radiating from the ghost and weren’t really shocked when the pen started to scribble something down again.

“No! Argh!” He really wrote Argh… that dork really wrote Argh! “You can be worse than Reggie sometimes, but you do it on purpose and I’m just sorry for Reggie. A) Carlos thinks he got rid of us by making a french dip and B) You’re awfully lively for a supposedly sick person. I might need to use the buzzers more and see what other reactions I can provoke from your parents.”

Crumbling the note in your hands you thought ‘Challenge accepted’. “You know what? I think I’mma go back on Reggie’s offer and actually let him introduce me to Wilbur. He might know some stuff I could use to blackmail you. And you’re right! I feel much better, just very tired, but that’s nothing a little bit of fresh air can’t fix! Toodles!”

You left your room, leaving a flabbergasted ghost behind who had lost his snapback with the number of times he had been combing through his hair with his hands. And while angrily pressing a pink buzzer, the buzzer wasn't the only thing that screamed “WILLIAM!” after the girl. (That was another important sound Alex wanted to have recorded.)

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Taglist: @sunsetcurvej @ifilwtmfc

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp x reader #julie and the phantoms x reader #luke patterson x reader #reggie peters x reader #alex mercer x reader #jatp imagine #julie and the phantoms imagine #jatp fanfiction #julie and the phantoms fanfiction #jatp one shot #jatp oneshot #julie and the phantoms oneshot #julie and the phantoms one shot #my writing #viascribbles

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