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doctorqueue · 1 year

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Masterpost :]!!!

Name: Queue/Que

Age: Young adult

Pronouns: She/her

Other: 🦋♾️ [Audhd’er my friends 😎]

Hi! My names Doctorqueue, but y’all can call me Que or Queue! I’m an illustrator (not professionally LOL), and have been drawing fanart pretty much my entire life. I have ocs too but I’m not sure if I’ll post them here or not~.

My most recent special interest has been Rottmnt/TMNT! (Go to Insta for The Bad Batch stuff :3). I have few au’s I’ve come up with, can’t promise I’ll make stuff for all of them I’ve set up tags n stuff for the one I’m most confident I’ll continue :).

My stuff:

#my art

#coloured - any of my art with colour

#my wips - I have a strong track record of abandoning these so beware lol

#full render - my art that is fully lined and shaded

#queueocs - my ocs eheh

#my refs - references, guides and tutorials I’ve made

#not charas nor turtles - all art that includes/is not things that aren’t my ocs or tmnt

#my other - not art stuff or references, can be of anything

#my fan fanart - Fanart of other people’s aus/designs/fanfictions/sonas/ocs etc

#Queue fanart - Any fanart people may make of any of my stuff! Whether it be aus, designs, sonas, ocs etc. (I don’t see it happening but if it does I won’t remember what I wanted the tag to be eheheh)

Au tag:

[Babysitters Turtle Club]

Main Tag: #TmntBSTCau

Fandom specific tags and more info about my au below cut!

Info about au!!

[Babysitters Turtle Club]

Summary:

Takes place in the ‘87 Universe in 1997, 6yrs after the show is finished (may be inaccurate to canon! Haven’t finished ‘87 yet). Both the Rise boys and ‘12 Boys come from 2009 in their respective universes. The Rise and ‘12 Kids are together for about a week b4 they are found by the ‘87’ Turtles, that week actually being spent in the 2012 universe. Lil Donnie was nearly finished on a device to communicate with Rise Splinter, before he and the rest of the kids ended up in the 1987 world. ‘12 Splinter gets it to work and keeps in contact with Rise Splinter, they’re worried sick but seen as the Rise boys where sent straight to ‘12 Splinter they are hoping that something similar happened with both of their kids. I want them to not know what’s going on at first but I also don’t want this au to be too angsty, hence the Splinters being able to communicate pretty much straight away. 1 1/2 months in The Donnie’s have found a way to commincate with the other Splinters! though they can’t send the kids back until some science-y thing is stable, which will be in 2 months. The whole thing lasts about 3 1/2 months. I think the 2012 Kraang will be responsible, which is why little 12yr old Donnie could make a communication device to the rise universe so quickly but 1987 Donnie couldn’t.

Character info:

(1987 Boys)

‘Leonardo’ 26yrs old

‘Donatello’ 25yrs old (SLIGHTLY older)

‘Rapheal’ 25yrs old (SLIGHTLY younger)

‘Michelangelo’ 24yrs old

‘87 Brains&Brawn are twins in anything I draw them in btw

(2012 boys)

‘Leo’ 12yrs old (oldest)

‘Raph’ 12yrs old (second oldest)

‘Donnie’ 12yrs old (second youngest)

‘Mikey’ 12yrs old (youngest)

(Rise Boys)

‘Red’ 6yrs old

‘Blue’ 5yrs old

‘Purple’ 5yrs old

‘Orange’ 4yrs old

I thiiiink I’m leaning towards Leo being the older twin, but they wouldn’t find out until Donnie double checks their ages with ✨science✨ when they’re a little older. So it isn’t super relevant to this au.

Additional tags: #Papaphael (I have a soft spot for little Purple and Dad Rapheal, I’m p sure the ‘hc all ur fav characters as being autistic’ compulsion is def rubbing off on ‘87 Raph hsfsbjsbheb)

Fandom specific tags!!

#tmnt

#turtleverse

#turtle tots

#tmnt mm

#rottmnt

#tmnt 2019

#tmnt Bayverse

#tmnt 2k12

#tmnt 2007

#tmnt 2003

#tmnt 1987

#rottmnt Apocalypse Future - All my Apocalypse timeline stuff

Character tags

#leo

#mikey

#raph

#donnie

#Splinter

#April O’Neil

#Casey Jones

#Casey Jones Jr

#Cassandra Jones

#Irma

#Karai

#Lou Jitsu

#Hamato Yoshi

#Oroku Saki

#Big Mama

#Baron Draxum

#Senor Hueso

#Hueso Jr

#Shredder

#Krang

#Venus de milo

#Assistant - Big Mama’s assistant

#Mona Lisa

#Buffy Shellhammer

#Lotus Blossom

For me [scuffed reblog tagging system]

#03

#87

#12

#12 Future - Mutant Apocalypse timeline

#Mhem - Mutant Mayhem

#19 - Batman vs TMNT

#Bay - Bayverse

#07

#Fan Ver - A Character from a different Iteration applied to another that doesn’t canonically have them!

#Au

#Au Co - fan au crossover

#Iter Co - official iteration crossover

#Fan Iter - fan iteration

#Future - Most future aus just go under this

#Pfuture - present future (F!turts in present timeline)

#Present

#Hooman

#Tots

#MScars - post-movie centered stuffs

#Ndtorts - neurodivergent turtles, can just be psychoanalyzing stuffs it’s not actually only nd

#Save - would like to archive and see again

#Nd - neurodivergent

#MH - mental health

#ref - reference for later

#reference - art/fandom references

#Fref - possible future references

#Paint - paintings

#Ani - animations and animatics

#art - non-fandom art I like (may be fandom I’m not in)

#pro - speedpaints and art process stuff

Aesthetic n fashion stuff, based on my personal definitions/style mashups. except for decora that’s just itself completely.

#Strobe

#Warm

#Pastel

#Decora

#F Co - fandom crossover

#Batch - TBB

#Ponies - MLP

#Dragns - Httyd franchise

#Sek - Project Sekai

#Voca - Vocasynth (includes vocaloid)

#Spooders - Spiderverse

#Wars - Other Starwars (includes other Clones)

#StarB - Starbound

#Min - Minecraft

#Tribb - Star Trek

#Uber - Super4

#Leg - Lego

#Othr - anything else lol

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ask-1p-and-2p-france · 6 years

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(Mod speaking! If you wish, this 14th i could write down the little story about how and why I started shipping Francis and Louis, as i think it’s kinda funny and cute and strangely heartwarming)

#I’ll include a lil drawing promise #aph france #2p france #1p2p france

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

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Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 2

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village

Rating: T+ for blood, language, nudity, and horny

Warnings: Implied pain/blood kink

Summary: Local vampire tries to give her human soulmate a bath, but the human is feral and loving it. Then it gets a lil horny, to both of their frustration.

Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring

2: Bloodbath, Baby!

“I take it you changed your mind about the clothes? Or am I supposed to use these towels like a makeshift toga?” You asked, glancing around the bathroom, eying the ornate tub with mild interest. This certainly wasn’t where you had expected Cassandra to take you, especially not when she had somewhat promised you garments to wear. There were no pants or shirts (or even dresses) in sight, just a rack of the softest looking towels you had ever seen. It was admittedly difficult for you to resist the urge to use one to wipe the blood off of your shoulder. However, you figured that it would be best to save that for after you were given a good behavior prize. After all, it was much more fun to be a bastard if your “victim” (not that Cassandra really counted as that) knew how polite you were capable of being, and you were, under normal circumstances, very polite. Most of the time. Maybe.

“What did I say about talking?” Cassandra snapped at you, glaring at you from her perch on the counter. She was sitting on the edge, waiting for something, occasionally eying the room’s entrance.

“You told me to shut up for ‘five minutes’. It’s been eight, at the very least! I’ve been holding back, just for you, babe,” you replied, smirking as you did. For a moment your soulmate seems to consider chucking a bar of soap at your head. Eventually she thinks better of it, opting to roll her eyes at you instead. “For the record, I did count, just to be sure. Wouldn’t have wanted to make any assumptions about the passage of time, considering how fast time seems to fly when I’m with a loved one.” Unfortunately, this does not get a rise out of Cassandra, who has shifted to face away from you. Not yet willing to give up your buffoonery (and assuming that you would not, in fact, be getting a good behavior prize anytime soon), you released a loud, exaggerated sigh, before switching tactics.

Standing up with the blanket still curled around yourself, you maneuver over to the tub, eagerly climbing inside. With how large it was, laying down was fairly easy, though you weren’t entirely flat. Wanting to be as comfortable as possible, you adjust yourself and the blanket until it covers you, while letting one end go behind your head like a pillow. It’s nowhere near as nice as you had hoped. On the plus side, however, is the attention it gets from Cassandra. Before long she’s standing adjacent to the tub, staring down with an expression of exasperation.

“What the fuck are you doing?” She asked.

“Napping, obviously. Care to join me?” You answered, without hesitation. Then you gently pat the blanket, as if offering to let her sit on top of you. This only serves to make her angrier. Now she’s leaning over the basin, bracing one hand against it, her other hand reaching to grab your throat and pull you towards her. The two of you are so close that you can’t help but blush, and the feeling of her skin against yours is weirdly attractive. “I should have known you were the kinky type. Not that I mind,” you murmured, gaze wandering a little farther south than her lips. Before you know it she’s shoved you back down and let go of you. She shakes her hand a bit, like she’s just touched something gross, but you see the pink rising on her cheeks. As much as you want to tease her, the sound of approaching footsteps takes priority. Soon the door is opening, revealing a stressed servant, a pile of clothes in her arms. Suddenly you’re glad that Cassandra pushed you away, considering you don’t think she would have enjoyed having someone walk in on the two of you in that position.

“Lady Cassandra, I have what you requested. Would you like me to draw a bath for you? Or-” she pauses when she sees you, clearly unsure of what to make of your behavior. Hell, she almost drops what she’s carrying, and makes a soft ‘oh’ sound. Presumably dying inside, Cassandra quickly takes the bundle from her. Then she stands between the two of you, blocking line of sight, looking as tense as could be.

“Just get back to work, and don’t mention this to anyone,” she growled, gesturing towards the door. As soon as the maiden closes it behind her, Cassandra is turning back to you. “Get rid of that stupid fucking blanket or I’m forcing you to wear wet socks.” Understandably, you start giggling at her request, hardly able to believe that she had really just said those words out loud. “Would you prefer I cut up the soles of your feet? I’ll heal long before you do, asshole.” Now that makes you pause, trying to figure out whether or not her threat held up. Even though everyone had a basic understanding of how blood bonds worked (the less romantic, and more historic, way to refer to soulmates), the specifics were confusing for most people, including yourself. Would your aching wounds bother her? Or only the initial injury?... Somehow you had a feeling you’d figure out the answer within the next few days.

Until then, you decide to err on the side of caution, for once in your life. Still, you roll your eyes before you pull the blanket up and out of the tub. Again you spot a faint rosy tint on Cassandra’s face, and her gaze most definitely lingers on places other than your eyes. In the end you have to bite your lower lip to stop yourself from calling her out on it. Gotta get some clothes first, you think, then back to being a dick. Holding back only gets harder from there.

Wordlessly, Cassandra takes a seat by the front of the tub, where your feet are propped up on the edge. Giving you a judgemental look, she pushes them aside so she can reach the controls knobs easier. You give an exaggerated pout in response, only for her to ignore you completely, trying very hard to look anywhere but at you. It was in stark contrast to how she had looked at you a mere half an hour earlier. There were several interesting things to note about her behavior, and you found yourself almost excited to figure out the puzzle she presented. Did she care about you now? Simply because of your blood bond? Did she have a genuine soft spot for romance?... Those sorts of questions were all you could think about, even as Cassandra turned the handles, letting cold water splash into the tub.

“I’d say ‘fuck you’ but honestly, were I in your position I would likely do the same,” you said, shivering a little. Cassandra raises an eyebrow, staring at you like you were stupid, before turning the handle a bit more. Eventually you figure out what she meant by it. “What, you guys don’t have a quality water heater? This is Romania for fuck’s sake. I would have figured the water would be a hell of a lot hotter by now,” you added, only for her to splash some still very much cold water on your face. “Is this fun for you? Are you enjoying this? God, I hope you assholes have Legos somewhere in this maniac menagerie, so I can step on them while you sleep.”

“Do you always spit in the face of kindness?” Cassandra asked, moving towards the other end of the tub as she spoke. Once more you laugh, though this time it’s much more of a hollow sound, and your smile doesn’t reach your eyes. “My sister wanted to kill you, but I pulled your pathetic corpse out of the basement, now I’m letting you use my bath, and you’re mocking me. This is why I don’t bother with this shit,” she growled, even as she wets a washcloth and starts dabbing at your wounds. On one hand you understand her frustration… but on the other you couldn’t get the image of her past victims out of your head.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’d rather be clean than not,” you started to say, pausing to think for a moment. Then you reach out, putting your hand over Cassandra’s, making her freeze in place. It’s soft enough of a touch to surprise her. Which is why it’s so easy for you to snatch the towel from her hands. “You ‘don’t bother’ with this ‘shit’ because you’re a fucking sadist, who thinks all humans are beneath you, who acts like she has every right to bleed innocent people dry, who thinks she’s God’s gift to this goddamn hellhole we call Earth. Do you think this makes up for your sins? Do you-” her nails dig into your arm and she grits her teeth in pain- “think that I can forget listening to the screams of your victims? Whose graves is this castle built upon? Whose fucking bones am I standing on? Who died to keep you alive? How many other versions of me have you killed, in other timelines, in other lives, where the universe didn’t demand that we be together? I’ve seen your heart, girl, and it’s as raw as they come.”

There’s a brief second of intense, furious eye contact. Then a flash of movement, a rush of pain, tears filling the corner of your eyes. Blood pours from the new hole in your shoulder, but Cassandra is quick to lick it up. She’s groaning in between each run of her tongue across your skin, clearly feeling it every bit that you were, yet she shows no signs of stopping. If anything, her pain seems to spur her on harder. Even you can’t help but blush a little as you struggle beneath her grip. Why did vampires have to use their mouths? Why couldn’t they get blood transfusions, like the rest of society? This way, your pleasure mixes with your misery, leaving you confused, and the fact that you’re still naked is not at all helping.

“Oh fuck off, please,” you gasped, trying to push her off of you. To your surprise, she does as asked, pulling away after one last lick. When you turn to look at her, you see your blood covering her lips and dripping down her chin. “You’re a mess, Cassie. Hot water?” With that you return her favor from earlier, splashing some of the (finally above room temperature) water in her direction. Most of it misses her. A few drops, however, do manage to hit their mark. Then she’s wiping her face on her sleeve, scowling the whole time. There’s still plenty of blood on her face afterwards, but it’s nothing compared to what’s gathering on your shoulder. She eyes the wound, nostrils flaring briefly, a predator dying for one more bite. “If you bite me again, I swear to whoever that one lady y’all worship is, I will bite you. My teeth aren’t made for that shit, but I don’t care. We’ll both be miserable and that’s it, baby! That’s love! I’m threatening you with an unhealthy perception of affection, dipshit!”

This time you expect her to move away, or hit you, or do anything other than what she does. Calling your bluff, she moves around the ever-filling tub, pausing to turn the water off, before hiking the edges of her dress up and… oh. Oh. Somehow she’s in the tub with you now, legs on either side of your waist, presenting the side of her neck to you with a knowing smirk. But you are not known for your cleverness. Nor your ability to make good decisions, at that. Perhaps your blood loss was starting to affect your cognition. Whatever made you so feral, so beautifully unhinged, you embraced it with utter glee. Soon enough your teeth find themselves on Cassandra’s throat, digging in enough for you to feel your blood bond reacting. For a moment she stiffens in response. Then she relaxes, even takes in a rush of air that sounds oddly content, leaning into your touch. What the fuck? You think, almost shocked enough to let go. Almost.

“What’s the matter, pet? I thought you wanted me to know what it felt like on the other side of things?” Cassandra teased, voice quiet and low. Something about her tone sends a familiar, although unwanted, feeling to your core. Still, her words egg you on, and you find yourself biting harder, tugging at the skin a little. More tears gather in your eyes, but you fight through the pain as best as you can. You drag your teeth across her skin, wishing for sharper canines, before letting go to inspect your work. There’s a clear outline where your mouth had been, but not a single drop of blood. Frustrated, you go back in for seconds, choosing a different spot to target. Again you go through the motions, only for no crimson to stain your lips. This cycle repeats several more times, with you running your tongue along her neck in between bites, so focused that you don’t realize that she’s grinding against you until she stops.

“I need to file my teeth,” you mused, trying to forget about what you had just done. Now that it’s over, Cassandra seems to feel the same, and she quickly climbs back out of the tub. She’s refusing to meet your gaze, instead focusing on arranging the clothes the servant had brought earlier. By the time she’s facing you again her blush is almost entirely gone.

“Finish cleaning up, then bandage yourself and get dressed. I’ll have a maiden wait outside to bring you back to my room. Don’t even think about trying to run,” Cassandra said sternly. You’re too distracted by the thought of what happened to give her any snarky response. So she simply nods to herself, then leaves, slamming the door behind her. Though you had expected to be relieved by her absence, you find yourself groaning, holding your head in your hands. Why is she so attractive? This is probably illegal, you think, in at least several countries. Or it should be, at least. Now that she’s gone, there’s nothing to distract you from the price of her attention, with your shoulder and neck aching horribly. Cleaning up was going to hurt even worse. Still, you think, at least I’ll have some time to think of new insults. With that in mind, you begin to wash away the blood, thoughts entirely consumed by your newest ‘partner’.

#cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #resident evil: village #re8 village #unhinged maiden #well personally I prefer the term feral #absolutely feral #goddamn menace #blunt teeth sharp tongue #please enjoy #not beta read

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jonnnysuh · 3 years

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Dating Jackson would include:

A/N: Crazy how I’ve gotten through almost all of the 7s already. Jackson’s was kinda hard bc I think he’s an actual combo of funny and romantic ?? Idk lemme know what you guys think. As always, based on my observations/ my perception of him.

He loves you with everything he’s got. No half assing it

If you get the wrong order at a restaurant he’ll call the waiter back so that it’s correct

“Are you checking me out?” “No” “it’s okay the heart wants what the heart wants” “my heart wants to throw up.”

His hugs feel like home

When he doesn’t get his way he’s sooooo pouty you just give in there’s no other way I’m sorry

Loves being the center of attention, but for you, he’ll share it LMAO

Never lets you lift a finger to carry something heavy

Very very protective of you

He’s so convincing when he’s talking bullshit. His hand gestures just sell it for some reason

Will only be big spoon

Will (not seriously) serenade you and will hold your hand and pretend he’s in a music video

Really really wants your parents to love him

Will bring you flowers on the first date

Goes out of his way to find the thing you like that you mentioned once before

I feel like he smells soooo nice

After you’ve spent a day with him you’ll smell like him too

Kisses you before he leaves the house, kisses you goodnight, kisses u thru FaceTime, he literally doesn’t care he will find a way

Always talks about the kind of future y’all will have together

“Are you really gonna do it?” “I promise you $10000000000 and 3 cents that I will”

Soooooo extra

Like so extra

Wants to make you proud

Can talk for hours about his future projects

Super duper competitive over the dumbest things

Cuddling is his favourite

He’ll go to you second when he has a problem bc first is his mom sorry bout it

Bro if you wanted to do like bungee jumping or something it would take hourssss to convince him and then when u get there he’s like “nope I’m not doing it what if I DIE? Then who’s gonna run Team Wang? How do you think Jinyoung would feel???”

But then he’ll see you bungee jump and be like “okay I have to be manly I have to do it” and then when he bungee jumps he’s SHRIEKING ITS SOOOO LOUD

When he makes time for you, he makes time for you. He won’t even look at his phone.

He knows he’s handsome but it hits different hearing it come from you,,, he will literally be like “Stopppp 🤗🤗 What else do you like about me?”

Both of you will hold in your laughter when something happens at an inappropriate time

BUT THEN HE’LL IMITATE THE THING AND MAKE IT HARD FOR YOU GUYS TO STAY QUIET

If you’re angry at him he’ll literally do anything to make you laugh

Tells himself daily affirmations

“Do you think if I stretch every morning when I wake up that I’ll get taller? Why not???? ☹️☹️“

Would wrap his arms around you while you guys look at the city skyline at night AHHH

Will make friends ANYWHERE it doesn’t matter where

Screams when you turn the lights off

Loves to say what he’s thinking

Says he would fight anyone for you BUT he draws the lines at ghosts

“I am not gonna allow a demon to possess me”

Keeps an extra pair of pajamas for you at home

Makes sure his house is stocked up with your favourite things

Wants you to feed him

Will send you cute lil update pictures throughout the day

Idek what his love language is bc this man is everything

Bro taking care of him drunk would be soOoOooOo funny because this man loves everyone sober so he’s gonna be an extra lover boy DRUNK

Jackson is also team “I hate the people you hate” like he’s just WAITINGGGG FOR YOU TO SPILL THE TEA

But at the same time he’s like “don’t let the bad energy affect you. Be the better person.”

Yet he can’t stop listening to the gossip??? HUH INTER ESTING

Will show you offffff ((you know like that Will And Jada Smith red carpet picture??? Exactly that but more)))

like he will hype you up even when you don’t think you look good

Will step between you and anyone if it’s obvious you look uncomfortable

Comes up with a lot of ridiculous “what if” scenarios that he throws at you when he’s bored

“What if your second grade crush confessed his feelings for you would you leave me then?” “What if otters could produce milk. Like would you eat the cheese? I would”

He just makes you blush so easily why is he so good at words

His laugh makes you laugh it’s just so funny

Pulls out the chair for you, holds the door for you, makes sure you’re comfortable at all times

Every time he says “I love you” it just feels so right

Super energetic for the events in your life and it genuinely makes him sad when he can’t make it

Gets sooo excited to see you after so long like a literal puppy

When he gets mad he speaks so fast you have no time to interject

And when he’s mad he won’t be willing to listen to what you have to say

Gets distracted easily

Sometimes you’ll rant and at the end of it he’ll be like “YA! THE GUY SUCKS.” And you’ll look at him like ??? And he’s like “… sorry I wasn’t listening”

Isnt afraid to clown you ESPECIALLY when you clown him

You know like the Blake Lively - Ryan Reynolds type flirting? It’s exactly like that between u two. It’s obvious you guys are together but in the insta comments you’ll just act like “I have no idea who this man is”

Knows what you like to order at any restaurant

I feel like if you guys didn’t work out you could still be friends. His love for you is apparent either way.

He loves you more than anything and you know it

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homoose · 4 years

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Atlas

Summary: Three times that Spencer needed support, and one time he gave it. Lightly insp by the song Atlas by The Dip.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: heavy on the fluff, a lil bit of angst

Warnings/Includes: brief mentions of general anxiety/trauma/mild depression

Word count: 4.4k

———

Spencer pressed his fingers so far into the sockets of his eyes that Y/N thought he might actually jam one of his eyeballs into his brain. He was hunched over his desk, reading through the file of the case he was consulting on. Even on his mandatory 30-day leave, Spencer couldn’t fully tear himself away from hunting monsters.

Y/N moved from where she had been leaning against the doorframe, walking further into Spencer’s office. “Another headache?” She sighed, wrapping her arms around Spencer’s shoulders and pressing her warm cheek to his temple.

Spencer hummed. “Just need another cup of coffee.”

“Honey, you’ve been awake for almost three days,” Y/N sighed. “What you need is a gallon of water and 12 hours sleep.”

He leaned back further into the circle of Y/N’s arms and covered her hands with his own. “I can’t—the team needs this consult before they leave on Monday.”

“And just how long have you been reading this page?” Y/N questioned. When Spencer didn’t respond, she continued, “Mmhm, that’s what I thought. When it takes Dr. Reid two minutes to finish a page, something’s up.” She patted his chest. “Even the biggest brain needs a break.”

“Actually, there’s very little evidence that brain size has any correlation with measured levels of intell—” Spencer started.

“So you’ve mentioned,” Y/N chuckled. “My point still stands. I’m gonna make you a cup of tea and a snack, and then we’re gonna take a nap.” She kissed the top of his head before releasing her hold on him and moving to the kitchen.

Y/N filled the kettle and placed it on the stove before scrolling to find the playlist she had curated for days like this. The melancholic sounds of the Moonlight Sonata came through the bluetooth speaker as she pulled a wooden cutting board from the cupboard. Y/N dug through the bag from her earlier grocery run. She began placing the crackers, dried fruit, nuts, and cheeses on the board, taking time to arrange each piece just so. When she was satisfied with her work, Y/N turned to reach up on her tiptoes into the cupboard for her secret weapon. With a small smile, she placed it in the very center of the board. The kettle had barely begun its whistle when Y/N snatched it from the stove, cringing with a glance toward the door of Spencer’s office. She pulled his best-loved mug from the dish rack and dropped a fresh tea bag into it, covering it with the steaming water.

As the tea steeped, Y/N moved to the living room, crossing her arms as she contemplated the space. Although it was much darker than Y/N’s own living space, it was still far too bright to be comfortable for Spencer’s light sensitivity. Y/N made a mental note to find a suitable set of blackout curtains before retrieving a blanket from inside the trunk-style coffee table. She carried one of the kitchen chairs over to the window, quietly setting it underneath the curtain rod. Stepping up on the seat of the chair, she tossed the blanket up, trying to layer it up over the curtain. It took a few tries, but Y/N got it up and over the rod, adjusting it to block as much of the light as possible. She hopped off the chair, landing on the floor with a quiet thud.

“You didn’t have to do all this.” Spencer stood outside his office, hands in his pockets and honey colored eyes settled on Y/N’s face as she turned to him.

“I know.” Y/N padded across the hardwood. She grabbed Spencer’s hand and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. She shrugged, pulling him into the kitchen. “I don’t mind. I like taking care of you.” When they reached the table, she popped an almond into her mouth with a grin.

Spencer’s eyes moved over the cutting board, lips turning up in a small smile—the first one Y/N had seen in days—when they landed on the Jell-O cup. He picked it up and peeled back the lid. Y/N held up her mug of tea. Spencer let out a laugh and tapped it with his Jell-O. “Cheers.”

When the board held only crumbs and the mugs were empty, Y/N stood from the table and pulled Spencer to his feet. “Come on, nap time.”

“Y/N, I appreciate the thought, but I really have to finish—”

“Nope, sorry, that’s not part of the deal.” She gently pushed him toward the couch. At Spencer’s resistance, Y/N huffed out a breath. “Spence, you need a break. I’m not even asking you to go to bed. Just lay on the couch.” She lifted a hand to cradle Spencer’s face. “Unlike the brain size thing, there is actual research that says your brain doesn't function properly when you’re tired. And you, my love, are t-i-r-e-d.”

Spencer allowed himself to be lowered onto the brown leather couch, rubbing at his eyes. “Just twenty minutes.”

“Mhmm.” Y/N reclined next to him on the couch, grabbing the throw blanket draped over the back. “I’ll set the alarm.” She held out her arms. “C’mere.”

Despite himself, Spencer didn’t hesitate, winding his arms around Y/N’s middle and laying his head on her shoulder. She tucked the blanket around the both of them and wound their legs together.

“The alarm’s set?” Spencer mumbled, already falling under the spell of sleep.

Y/N pushed her fingers through his hair and scratched lightly at his scalp, smiling when he hummed happily and burrowed his face into her chest. “Setting it now,” she assured. Maybe she set it a little longer than 20 minutes, but Spencer didn’t need to know that.

⧭⧭⧭

Y/N rolled over toward the nightstand and reached out, clumsily running her hand across the smooth table to grab the ringing phone. When her fingers wrapped around the device, she pulled it towards her only to have it jerk abruptly out of her hand when the charging cord reached its limit. “Shit,” Y/N muttered as it clattered to the floor. She emerged from under the duvet, leaning off the side of the bed and dragging her hand blindly across the floor. Finally, clutching the phone in one hand and pushing herself back into bed with the other, Y/N swiped to answer the call. “H‘lo?”

“Hey.”

At the sound of Spencer’s voice, Y/N was suddenly wide-awake. “Spence? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, I just—um. I know it’s late, sorry. Are you—? I just—God, you have to work in the morning, I’m sorry. I can—it can wait.”

Y/N paused a moment to make sure he was finished before asking, “Do you need me to come to you, or are you coming here?”

Spencer let out a sigh of relief. “I can—I’ll come to you.”

After thirty minutes of groggy pacing, Y/N opened the door to Spencer, hair frizzy and clothes rumpled from a long flight. She stepped back, allowing him into the apartment and then closing the door behind him. Spencer dropped his go-bag on the floor and ran a hand over his face as Y/N turned the deadbolt and secured the chain. She had barely turned around before he was latching onto her, completely enervated. He burrowed his face into the crook of her neck, and Y/N wrapped her arms tightly around him.

Y/N shifted her weight slowly back and forth, moving the two of them in a gentle swaying motion. She rubbed a hand up and down Spencer’s back, soothing and rhythmic. Spencer let out a shaky breath, and Y/N felt the collar of her shirt becoming damp. She brought a hand up to Spencer’s head, stroking his hair and repeating a familiar mantra: “You’re safe. I’m here. You’re safe. I’m right here.”

Y/N lost track of how long they stood there, swaying and soothing and shattering. Maybe minutes or maybe hours later, Spencer pulled back, head lowered and swiping his arm underneath his nose. Y/N reached out to grasp his face in both her hands, lifting it and sweeping her thumbs under his eyes. When Spencer finally looked at her, Y/N saw the golden irises were shining and ringed with red. “I love you.”

“I love you. So much.” Spencer circled Y/N’s wrists in his hands. “So much.”

She pressed one, two, three chaste kisses to his chapped lips. She dropped one kiss onto the tip of his nose, drawing out a hesitant smile. “Wanna talk about it?”

He shook his head. “No.” Y/N pursed their lips, and Spencer sighed. “I—I will talk to someone, I promise. But I just—I don’t want it in here. In our space.” Y/N wound her fingers through Spencer’s, pulled his arms down, and tugged him closer. “Honestly, I just want to sleep with you,” Spencer admitted. Y/N wiggled her eyebrows and Spencer laughed. “You know what I mean.”

Y/N tried to pull a pout but just ended up smiling. “Fine. Come on, spoilsport. Let’s go to bed.”

⧭⧭⧭

“It was just… not a good day for her.” Spencer leaned back on the couch and scrubbed his hands over his face.

Y/N sat next to him on the couch. She couldn’t find the right words. “I’m so sorry, Spence.”

“Pragmatically, I know that there’s nothing more I could be doing. She made it clear what she wants, and I can’t force her to take medications or try new treatments.” He looked down at his hands, fingers tracing the lines of his palms. “But some days I—I just can’t… reconcile that this is what her life is now. Just… remembering less and less every day. Being confused and agitated all the time. I mean, all the time.” He paused and drew his lips into a thin line. “Not knowing who I am. That happens much more frequently than it used to.”

Y/N reclined back next to him on the couch, putting her feet up on the coffee table and pressing her shoulder to Spencer’s. “Even if she doesn’t always remember, you do. And if there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you are irritatingly persistent,” she joked. “You won’t ever stop trying to remind her. And that’s the best thing you can do for her.”

Spencer nodded, dropping his head onto Y/N’s shoulder. She tilted her head, an idea flitting across the front of her mind. “Hey, here’s a thought. You know that scrapbook your mom made? Every page is a story from her life. But she stopped around the time you were like, ten, right?”

“Yeah. There’s… not much in there after that.”

“Ok so, what if you picked up where she left off? You have so many great stories and memories with her. You could put some of your journals and articles in there, too. Pictures of you and the team. That one of you and Ethan in New Orleans. Ones with Henry and Michael. Maybe one of you in the lecture hall.” Y/N sat up. “Writing her letters is great, you should keep doing that for sure. But did you know that visual aids—like, particularly photographs—can help stimulate memory recall in Alzheimer’s patients at any stage?”

Spencer smiled. “I actually did know that.”

“Ugh of course you did. Couldn’t just let me have this one thing.” Y/N rolled her eyes, though Spencer caught the hint of a grin underneath the feigned annoyance. “Seriously, I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner. I have a ton of scrapbooking stuff,” Y/N said, scrambling up from the couch and into her bedroom.

“You do?” Spencer furrowed his brow. “I’ve never seen you scrapbook.”

“Eh, yeah, it was a phase,” she called from the bedroom. “Scrapbooking paper’s expensive as fuck, so it was a short-lived hobby.”

Spencer chuckled, listening to the sounds of Y/N rummaging through the bedroom closet. There was a muffled thud. “Everything okay in there?”

There were a couple more bumps and bangs, and then, “Ah yeah, here we go.” Emerging from the bedroom, Y/N wheeled a huge black roller bag over to the couch. She unzipped the top pocket and Spencer peered inside. “Oh so you meant, quite literally, a ton of scrapbooking stuff.”

“Look, my ADHD goes all out when it comes to starting new projects.” Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “It’s the, you know, finishing projects that we struggle with.”

The pair went about die cutting, arranging, gluing, and giggling. Y/N scoured the depths of the internet (namely Penelope’s Facebook page) for photographs of Spencer—in costume at the BAU Halloween party, in his tuxedo at JJ and Will’s wedding, a selfie with Penelope at a Dr. Who convention, a candid of him doing magic for Jack and Henry, and even one of him singing karaoke.

Spencer worked on laying out the pages, gluing down frames and choosing decals that reminded him of his mother. He wrote a short synopsis on each page, summarizing his degrees, his work, and his friends. By the end of the afternoon, they had more than a dozen pages for the new book.

“I need one more picture,” Spencer said.

“I thought I got one of everyone? Or is there another karaoke picture that I don’t know about?” Y/N gawked over the top of the laptop from her spot on the couch. She was never going to let him live that down.

Spencer laughed. “No, I’m pretty sure that’s the only photographic evidence of that night.” He turned and smiled up at Y/N from where he sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by scraps of paper and the remnants of sticker packs. “I need that one of us at the Cherry Blossom festival.”

“Oh. Well, um.” A blush crept up Y/N’s cheeks. “Coming right up.” She sent the photo to the printer, standing to retrieve it from her desk.

It was quiet in the room apart from the sounds of the printer, rhythmically whirring and inking the memory into life. Y/N absentmindedly chewed the inside of her lip, waiting for the final strokes of the photo to be laid. She turned back, photo in hand, to see Spencer smiling at her, soft and warm.

Over the course of the afternoon, he had swapped his shoes for a pair of fuzzy socks, and his contacts for his glasses. Y/N’s heart actually ached at the length of his sweater sleeves, covering all but the tips of his fingers. The picture of domesticity, Spencer patted the floor next to him. When Y/N sat, he took the photo from her hand, meticulously adding glue dots to each corner before pressing it down onto the page. He lifted his arm, tucking Y/N underneath and pulling her close. “Thank you. For all of this.”

“You’re very welcome.” Y/N snuggled a little deeper into his embrace. “All right so let’s see this masterpiece.”

When they arrived at the last page, Y/N was still incredulous over the details of the karaoke story. “Okay, but there has to be a video somewhere.”

“Oh, I’m sure there is. And you will never, ever see it.”

“Penelope Garcia is a tech wizard, and she is not above a bribe,” Y/N warned.

“What a coincidence, because I am also not above a bribe. Especially if it keeps that video from ever seeing the light of day.” Spencer laughed and squeezed Y/N’s shoulder. “I think this page is my favorite.”

Y/N and I at the Cherry Blossom festival. Y/N is kind, thoughtful, and passionate. She never fails to make me laugh. She’s always up for cloud watching with me, although she prefers altocumulus formations to the cumuliform heaps. We read together almost every night. You both love King Arthur and the Legends of the Round Table, particularly Tristan and Iseult. I could write a million more words about her and it wouldn’t be enough. When I was little, you told me that love is a world of its own that lives in the heart, not in the head. I know exactly what you mean.

⧭⧭⧭

Y/N tossed under the duvet, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to find a comfortable position. She had been sleeping for so long that her lower back was aching, the type of pain that twinges like the ticking of a clock, steady and incessant. She rolled over onto her stomach, stretching her whole body and reaching to turn the alarm clock toward her—3:27pm. She huffed, burying her head in the pillow with a loud groan. She had called out of work to have a productive day at home, and instead she slept the day away.

Y/N threw the duvet off and sat up. She tried not to let the guilt of calling out creep in. Instead, she shuffled into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. She resolved that small victories might be all she was capable of today.

She pulled her favorite sweater from the hook on her bedroom door, wrapping it tightly around her as she stepped over the threshold into the living and dining space. This is why she had stayed in bed so long. Y/N had been spending so much time at Spencer’s that she had been able to ignore the declining Depression Room™ facing her now.

Three days’ worth of dishes were piled in the sink. There was a stack of unopened mail about a mile high on the kitchen island. The trash and recycling needed emptying about a week ago. Jackets and shoes were strewn about the place—over chairs, the back of the couch, all over the floor. The coffee table was littered with granola bar wrappers, an old McDonald’s bag, empty gatorade bottles, and the dirty containers from last night’s takeout. Her desk was overrun with unfinished lesson plans, professional development books that needed reading, and spelling tests that needed grading.

Y/N knew she would feel better once she started, but she also knew it would take her all day to get the apartment looking even halfway decent. Since she had spent so long in bed, she had even less time to get it done. She was failing to fend off the guilt of calling out, particularly since she hadn’t actually gotten any work done. Compounding her guilt was the fact that Spencer’s apartment was always so clean and cozy. His job was a thousand times more demanding than hers. His life had more trauma and daily stressors than she could even imagine. And still, Y/N was struggling with basic adult tasks. She couldn’t understand it.

Just hang the jackets up. Throw away the junk mail. Wash the pots and pans first, then the plates and silverware. It will take four minutes to take the trash out. Spelling tests need to be in the grade book before the end of the marking period.

The door buzzer sounded and Y/N nearly jumped out of her skin. Running a hand through her hair and cringing at the greasiness, she crossed to the intercom and pushed the button to talk.

“Yes?”

“Hey!” Spencer’s chipper voice crackled through the speaker. “I tried calling you but couldn’t get through.”

Y/N was immediately torn between relief and panic. She was desperately in need of a hug and his company, but she was also mortified imagining what Spencer would think about the state of her apartment, the state of her life. “Y/N?” His voice broke through her musing.

“Yeah, sorry!” She tried to school her voice into something resembling normalcy. “Sorry, I—my phone died and I just— well, yeah.”

There was a pause, and then a tentative, “Can you buzz me in?”

“Oh, um.” Y/N turned and surveyed the apartment. There was nothing to be done. If she said no, Spencer would know for sure that something was wrong. “Sure, yeah yeah, hang on. Just—just a minute.”

Y/N moved quickly around the space and gathered the jackets and shoes into her arms. She fumbled with the door handle of the coat closet, tossing them in haphazardly and closing the door. There was no time to do much of anything else. She jogged back to the intercom, pressing the door button and then roping her hair up into a bun, hoping she could mask how dirty it was. She could hear Spencer coming up the squeaky stairs and felt her eyes start to water. She tilted her head back to keep the tears at bay.

Even Spencer’s knocking sounded happy. And of course that only made Y/N feel worse. She plastered on her best smile and opened the door. “Hi.”

“Hey!” Spencer stepped past Y/N, kissing her cheek and dropping his bag as he entered the apartment. “We had a paperwork day, and I write reports about as fast as I read, so I’m always done early. How was your day?”

“Um, you know, it was ok.”

Spencer’s eyes tracked over her face. “Did something happen?”

“No, no, I just wasn’t feeling great this morning. I called in, just hung around here.”

“You could have called me.” Spencer stepped closer. “How are you feeling now? What were your symptoms?”

“I’m fine. I was just, um—just really exhausted.”

Spencer studied her face a moment. “What’s going on?”

“Hmm? Nothing. Nothing, I’m fine.” Y/N cursed her wavering voice for betraying her emotions.

“Y/N, you have never once, in all the time I’ve known you, failed to answer your phone. I almost thought you were going to tell me to go away before you buzzed me up.” He put his hands in his pockets. “Did I— Did I do something to make you upset?”

Y/N closed her eyes, feeling more awful by the minute. Of course Spencer would worry it was his fault. “No, no, Spence, not at all. I just—um.” The genuine concern on Spencer’s face was enough to have it all spilling out. “I get like this sometimes. I can’t focus on anything or don’t feel motivated or whatever, so I put things off, and then they build up until there’s so much to do that I don’t know where to start, so then I don’t start anything, and then I feel bad about being lazy and not getting things done, and I get so overwhelmed that all I can do is sleep for like, fourteen hours like I did today, and then the whole day is gone and I still haven’t accomplished anything I was supposed to—”

“Whoa, whoa, c’mere.” Y/N hadn’t even realized she was crying until Spencer pulled her into him. He locked his arms around her back so tight it almost hurt. She was vaguely aware of the volume of her sobs, but she couldn’t even bring herself to be embarrassed. It was a completely visceral moment of release, one that she might never have permitted herself without Spencer’s prompting. Now that the floodgates were open, there was no stopping the rush of everything she had allowed to build up. She spent so much of her life being the one who helped, always listening, supporting, and comforting the people around her. She was good at it, and she liked being someone that others could count on whenever they needed her. She just didn’t know how to listen to, support, and comfort herself.

Eventually, her mind and body began to slow down, plunging from the emotional high. When Spencer felt her breathing return to that consistent rhythm, he loosened his grip around her. He left one arm firmly around her waist and used his other hand to rub circles on her back.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N mumbled into his chest. “This is so stupid. Compared to the stuff you see every day—”

“No— no.” Spencer pulled back to force her eyes up. “Don’t do that. Just because horrible things happen to other people doesn’t mean that what you’re going through isn’t hard. Y/N, do you hear me? Don’t diminish your own pain because you think someone else has it worse.” He cupped her chin gently in his hand. “What can I do to help you right now?”

“You already have helped,” Y/N sniffed. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

“Y/N... you’re not fine. And there’s nothing wrong with that. It—it’s okay to not be fine. But seeing you in pain hurts me, too. And I need to be able to do something about it.” He cradled her face in both hands. “You help me all the time. Please, let me do this for you. Let me be here for you.” After a moment, Y/N nodded and that was approval enough for Spencer. “What did you eat today?

“I um, I didn’t yet.” She sniffed. “I slept pretty late.”

“Okay, well it’s after 4:00pm. We’ve got to eat something.” Spencer ran his hands down Y/N’s arms. “I’d cook for you, but we already know how that story usually ends. How about takeout from the Indian place? They’re usually pretty quick.”

Y/N nodded again. “I need to take a shower, too.”

Spencer kissed her forehead. “You hop in the shower, and I’ll call in the order. It’ll be here by the time you’re done.”

When Y/N emerged from the bathroom, hair damp and skin smelling like lavender, the familiar aroma of curry and tandoori was drifting through the apartment. The coffee table was cleared and the kitchen table set with the takeout boxes and mugs of tea. The trash and recycling were freshly emptied. Spencer stood over the sink finishing up the last few dishes, the pots and pans already laid out to dry. He was quietly singing along to a familiar song—one of their favorites. His voice was sweet and soft and slightly off-key, and her heart panged in the best way as he sang:

Don't put the world on your shoulders 'cause you know it ain't your load to bear alone.

Y/N waited until the final notes of the song faded out, padding quietly across the kitchen floor. “You didn’t have to do all this,” Y/N said, wrapping her arms around his middle.

Spencer dried his hands before turning in her embrace. “I don’t mind. I like taking care of you. And I learned from the best.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and spoke against her skin. “You can even have the last Jell-o.”

Y/N smiled, quick and genuine. There were moments when life crashed over her, relentless waves breaking her down into grains of sand. And in those moments, this man forever grounded her to the truth—that she was treasured and deserving and whole— all of her, just as she was.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminals minds self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #homoose writes

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tennessoui · 3 years

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FeralObi anon here. How do you come up with these so fast?? Are you an infinite number of ideas and worlds in human-shaped form? I love both of those ideas. The first one kills me tho, Obi gets his first kind touch in years from lil Anakin. Also you can have lil Anakin coming home one day with a skulking, snarling nonverbal murder puppy and saying brightly, "He followed me home, can I keep him?" Schmi thinks this is definitely worse than the time he brought a krayt dragon home.

ah! hello! yes this is the first idea of a feral obi-wan who meets anakin when he's still on tatooine. i will also still do the second idea because like. i liked them equally as much rip me

but i told myself these were going to both be very short snippets and instead this one is uh 2k so i'll post the second one tomorrow instead of tonight!

(ficlet where obi-wan is captured by pirates/unspecified forces at a young age and then tortured for a decade before he escapes to tatooine when anakin is like 6. obi-wan, after a decade of torture is....not alright in this fic though he's only here at the end) (2k)

Shmi had known that when she sent her little Anakin away to follow after the stern-faced, warm-eyed Jedi Master, that this would not be the last time she ever saw her boy. She couldn’t explain how she knew, just as she had not been able to explain how she became pregnant, but she knew beyond a doubt that one day, she would see her little boy back in her arms.

She just hadn’t known it would be so soon.

“He died, Master Jinn died,” Anakin mumbles into the front of her dress, unwilling to move his head far back enough from her hug that he could talk clearly. “On Naboo. And the stupid Jedi council refused to train me even after I was so amazing in the air. Mom, I destroyed a blockade! Entirely! And they wouldn’t--they didn’t--” his little face scrunches up and then he’s bawling into his hands.

A slave, a born slave, knows intrinsically the injustice of the galaxy. It is not often they know hope.

“Oh my boy,” she whispers, smoothing a hand over the top of his head. She has questions. She has so many questions about everything he’s just said and what those strangers have put her son through, but the most important thing is a question she cannot wait until he has cried himself out to ask. “Is your chip gone, Ani? Did they remove your transmitter?”

Because she had sent him away from her so that he could be free. And that had been her own twisted version of hope, that her son could know a life she never would again. If the Jedi masters had proven to be just like every other master in the world, she would find herself sobbing into her own hands.

“Yeah,” Anakin sniffles and wipes at his ruddy cheeks, pulling back a few steps. “They removed it and everything. And--”

He pauses and drops his satchel to the ground in front of her. “They gave me credits. To buy you. For my trouble.”

He spits out the last three words like they’re the most disgusting thing in the entire world. As if Shmi’s freedom isn’t laying at their feet, mere centimeters away.

“Republic credits are no good here,” she hears herself say faintly.

“Padme, the handmaiden you met, she talked to the queen about me I guess,” Anakin mumbles, kicking his feet. “And when the queen learned that the Jedi didn’t want me even after all that, Padme says the queen says I’ll always have a place on Naboo. Me and my family. And then she took the Jedi credits and gave me these instead. It should be enough, Mom.”

Shmi sits down on the floor. With shaking hands, she opens the bag and looks inside. Yes. Yes.

There’s more than enough.

There’s enough to buy her freedom and take her boy away from Mos Espa. There’s enough to take her boy away from Tatooine completely.

“I…” she says. “Ani, I…”

“Padme said she’d send a ship for us,” Ani reports as if their lives are not changing right in front of their eyes. “In two days ‘cause I told her it might take a little bit of time to get Ben to come with us. But we can’t leave without him.”

This is said fiercely and with his arms crossed tightly over his little chest.

Shmi stares at him.

“I’ve already left him once!” Anakin says, stomping his foot. “But that was okay, because I knew you would bring him food and water and stuff. But if we’re both gone, no one’s going to be there for him.”

Shmi bites at her lip. There’s a lot of things happening very quickly right now, and she doesn’t know how to process half of them.

Her son has come back, after only being gone for a week and a half.

He has apparently either endeared himself so much to the queen of Naboo that she was willing to give him the money necessary to buy his mother from slavery and also promise him sanctuary on her planet. He says he’s done this by single-handedly ending a blockade, which is something she just cannot even think about right now.

He has told this queen--queen--that he will gladly live on Naboo with his family. Yes. Alright.

His family seems to include his imaginary friend, Ben.

Anakin has been talking about Ben for years now, ever since he was six and a half years old and sent by Watto to retrieve any scraps he could from what looked to be a crashed pod in the Wastelands. She’d let him ramble on about the ghost of a friend, because she’d known it to be something all children go through and experience. She hadn’t thought Anakin a lonely child, not with the friends he made in Mos Espa, but she’d always known that Anakin had a wandering spirit, ill-suited for Tatooine. If he liked to imagine an older man from a strange world hiding in the caves of the Wastes, then she wasn’t going to say anything.

“You have been leaving him food, haven’t you, Mom?” Anakin asks, almost accusatory. “I told him to expect you and everything.”

No. Shmi has not been traveling to the edge of the Wastelands every day during her precious few hours of free time in order to leave food to be picked apart by womp rats and desert critters and not her boy’s imaginary friend.

“Ani,” she says cautiously, quietly, “we cannot...we won’t be able to bring Ben with us when we go.”

Anakin, predictably, does not react well. “Why not!” he yells, backing away from her even further and looking as if she is the enemy. “Padme’s fine with it!”

“Aren’t you a little old for imaginary friends?” Shmi asks desperately, feeling cold suddenly even though the heat of the mid-morning sun has not abated at all.

If anything, her son looks more offended. “He’s not imaginary! Saying...saying that he’s not coming with us...is...is a bunch of poodoo!”

“Anakin!” Shmi gasps.

“Come on,” her boy says forcefully, grabbing at her hand and tugging her towards the door. She gets on her feet reluctantly and has half a mind to pull back just because he needs to learn that this sort of behavior is not okay, war hero or not. “We’re going to buy you from Watto. And then we’re going to go visit Ben!”

---

Buying her freedom takes less time than Shmi Skywalker ever thought it would. It feels distant as well, as if it’s happening to someone else.

It doesn’t help that her Ani is impatient and surly by turn, spilling the coin out onto Watto’s counter and barely waiting for him to finish counting it before he’s looking at the price of renting a four-person speeder parked outside.

“You won’t survive out there on your own,” Watto sneers, even as he’s passing her the kill-switch of her own slave chip. “Days. It’ll be days until the Hutts find out there’s a newly freed slave with no connections out there in the open. Ripe for the pickin’.”

Watto doesn’t have to tell her any of this. She knows. Gods, does she know.

But Anakin seems so sure about possessing the favor of the Queen of Naboo, or at least her handmaiden, which might be close enough to the same thing. She thanks Watto--she thanks him and then doesn’t even know why--and meets Anakin outside.

He’s bouncing around the speeder, little hands clutching his satchel to his chest. “Good!” he says when he sees her, hopping onto the machine and putting the parcel between his feet. “I got Ben something called a fig on Naboo, but I don’t know how long it’ll take for it to go bad. Apparently they’re sweet.”

Shmi goes along with it. Shmi doesn’t know why she goes along with it, but she does. She can see this is important to her boy, and though she’d rather spend the afternoon and early evening saying goodbye to her friends, she will allow Ani to say goodbye to his imaginary friend. Maybe she’ll even talk to it. “Hi, hello, I’m so glad you’ve enjoyed the imaginary blue milk and delicacies I’ve left out for you this past week and half. Oh no, it was no bother. My son insisted.”

The ride is quick--Anakin has always been a driver to push the limits of any engine he comes across--and before she knows it, he’s dismounting on a piece of desert and rock that look exactly the same as the last four pieces of rocky terrain they’ve past.

“Ben!” Ani calls, satchel clutched firmly in his hands as he makes his way deeper into the crevices of the landscape. “Ben, it’s Ani! I’m really sorry that I left! Ben? Ben! I’m back now! Ani’s back!”

It’s actually...quite pathetic, to watch her boy speak so pleadingly to the cold stone faces of the rocks around them, but if this is what he needs to do to say goodbye to his life on Tatooine, Shmi won’t say a word.

“Ben--” Anakin draws in a breath to call again, but then there’s movement out of the corner of Shmi’s eyes, and something jumps from the rock down to land on her boy.

She screams and darts forward, but the thing on top of her son snarls at her in guttural warning.

“No, Ben,” Ani coos, stroking at the face that yes, is human, now that it’s not in unnaturally fast motion. “That’s my mom, Ben.”

Ben--Ben??--growls anyway, pinning the boy--her boy--beneath him with his legs and arms.

“She’s fine,” Ani murmurs gently, one hand reaching up to stoke over the beginnings of a beard on Obi-Wan’s face “Oh Ben, I’m sorry.”

The man on top of Shmi’s child finally looks away from her and at her boy, which is both better and worse.

“Ani,” Ben drawls out, as if the word--or perhaps forming the word--hurts him.

Anakin is happy. Shmi can tell he’s happy without even being able to see much of him. It’s like the very air vibrates with his joy. “Yes!” her son says. “Ani. Ben.” He taps the man’s chest. “Ben. Ani.”

The man buries his head into Anakin’s hair, hands rubbing up and down his sides and his arms and his face.

Shmi needs to say something, wants to say something about this strange man touching boy like he owns him, but the memory of his growl and the flash of his golden eyes stops her from stepping forward.

“Anakin, get away from him,” she hisses instead of stepping forward and tearing the stranger off of her son. She has the distinct feeling Anakin wouldn’t let Ben go anywhere, not with the way his little hands are holding so tight to the man’s shoulders. The man’s shoulders that are covered with one of her old tunics that Anakin had told her became unsalvageable after its last wash.

“No,” Anakin says, tightening his hold on his...friend. “He says you didn’t give him food the entire time I was gone! He’s hungry.”

Shmi thinks there’s a very good possibility that this Ben is going to eat her, but she knows not to say anything of the sort. Not when it’s two against one.

“He hasn’t said anything!” She cries instead.

Anakin huffs at this and pats at the feral’s head. “Maybe not to you, but he talks to me.”

Shmi stares at him and wonders if there’s something she’s supposed to be doing or saying here. The man won’t allow her to tear him off her child, she knows that automatically. But she can’t--she doesn’t know--

“Anakin,” she tries, desperately.

But Anakin doesn’t even look at her, too busy petting over the man, who has at least allowed him to sit up. “Hey, I’m sorry, I thought she would,” he tells him in an undertone. “I really thought she would, but I’m back now. I’m not going anywhere without you again--”

He extends his hand and Ben presses his cheek against it with enough force that it pushes him back slightly.

“You’re coming to Naboo with us, Ben,” Anakin promises, clutching at the ends of the man’s long hair. “Or I’m not going at all.”

To Shmi, it sounds like a threat.

The way her son’s eyes flash an unfamiliar golden color makes her feel cold as a Tatooine night. She shivers, but no one notices.

#asks #feral!obi-wan #cw: torture aftermath #its really quite vague tbh #i wanted to use shmi as a narrator because i never really have before #but that means nothing but shmi's perspective gets shared #i mean obviously #but its defo outside perspective here #but this was fun #im not gonna tag it as obikin because anakin here is nine #but yeah i see them living on naboo and healing together from their traumas #and being the most important person to each other #and eventually when anakin is like 25 maybe even older #they kiss #but that's the story i didnt write lmao

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shtern-and-art · 3 years

Note

"Skeppy will probably cry" "Bad will probably cry". Bish, screw, that I am crying!!!

This whole thing was bloody gorgeous and I wasn't expecting that ending. I had no clue what ending to expect but that was definitely better than any I could have hoped for. Forest spirit to soulmate your honour!

I was terrified that you were gonna leave it at the point where he loses the spirit and becomes mortal again. If you had I would be actively sobbing!!!! And oh my god, the art!!! I still can't get over how wonderful your style is.

Imma ask fun things because if I don't I'll sit in a puddle of emotion all night:

What's the first tech thing Bad will buy and how annoying will he be about it? Poor Skeppy trying to answer 101 questions about something he doesn't really use XD.

Is no one concerned that the odd couple from a town they never name has a pet wolf??

Do they immediately go over to a different town or do they wander for a while. Find hidden creeks and befriend bears?

Does Bad still have a connection to nature and animals, like are creatures naturally more trusting of him?

Do they ever visit the og town again?

Does Skeppy still cause absolute chaos in other towns or has he learnt his lesson and only causes minor trouble now?

Does Bad ever try and study again? If he did what would he study and would Skeppy try to study as well?

Does Skeppy steal? I dunno, he just give off the vibe of a naughty lil trickster who'll pocket something if the owner refuses to sell it him.

Immediately after leaving the forest what the first 'argument' they have (not including the car one)?

Would they ever ride horse? If yes, how terrified would Skeppy be?

Skeppy falls outta tree. I don't know why but my mind keeps telling me that this man has great balance until he climbs trees. They are his mortal enemy and Bad finds this both hilarious and terrifying because he is going to hurt himself.

I had waaaaay more questions than I intended to have. My bad '^_^ but this story was way too much fun to read and you are entirely to blame for making it so engaging!

Make sure to take care of yourself and do stretches after and during drawing. You don't wanna hurt yourself <3

AaaaI’m so glad you liked it! :D And, dang, man, I cried while writing that part too :D

And I promised a nice ending for the main story, I did, and this one also makes the most sense narratively! For the story I wanted to tell, at least. Bad can’t really become human again, he’s changed to much. He can only move on, and do something with what he is, and has. And he did! :D That’s really nice and inspiring, this story will always have a place in my heart, heheh <3

Being a guardian spirit connected to a person and all, Bad may be not as strong as before, but he can’t die unless Skeppy dies first. And Skeppy can do that, but he’s pretty sturdy, and his lifespan operates on a whole other scale than human ones. And Bad knowing Skeppy’s real name balances it all out, makes them equal in the power and influence they have over each other.

So hellyeah, soulmates for the win :DDD

I’ll answer all questions under the cut, and this close up from one of the pages!

1) What's the first tech thing Bad will buy and how annoying will he be about it?

Probably a pager! Because it’s a more feasible thing to get than a wholeass computer Bad actually wanted :D An it means Skeppy will have to get one too, and that Bad will be having the time of his life texting him and everyone he can get a number from, even if they’re still in the room with him.

Poor Skeppy indeed, he can learn to appreciate the pagers, and later phones, too, and computers, but he really has 0 idea on how it all works and why Bad is so fascinated by it all.

2) Rat and regular people

Oh, she can shapeshift, just like Bad! If they’re out with people around, she takes form of a puppy, and Bad can pass her off as a weird mix breed rescue doggo.

3) Do they immediately go over to a different town or do they wander for a while?

Oh, since they have no end destination in mind, they can ride around for a bit, go visit some cool places and roadside attractions. Sadly, Skeppy is probably not spiritually or morally ready to full on befriend wild bears yet, and they do need money for gas and snacks. So, at some point they will have to stop somewhere and find work – at least for a bit, to save up. Life’s gonna be a bit complicated with all that, until Skeppy figures out his treasure-finding abilities :DD

4) Bad and nature and animals

He is definitely still in tune with all wildlife! Even more – Bad could become a proper guardian spirit for Skeppy in part because, in a way, Skeppy himself is part of the nature.

So yeah, Bad can understand animals (and plants) and communicate with them; they’re just more free to not take his shit, and Bad’s emotions do not “possess” them unless he makes an effort to do so.

He doesn’t like doing it, tho.

5) Do they ever visit the og town again?

Hm, I think they will completely forget about it for a while, until, like, 30+ years later they will be going somewhere, and find themselves around those parts. And they try to not appear too often in the areas they’ve spent a lot of time in already (they can be pretty recognizable, and also barely show signs of aging). But it’s been a long time, and the town’s really different now… So they make a stop, and spend a day there. They walk the unfamiliar streets between the new buildings, check out the popular hiking trail, the advertisements for hot springs and winter activities. The old cinema is still there, and is hosting an all-night marathon of classic horror movies of the last century.

Bad and Skeppy leave the town after sunset – the day was nice, but they have nothing more to do there. They ride through the forest on a well paved road, with radio playing something barely above the whisper. And in the dark of hot summer night, Bad can see the white stag running between the trees alongside their car. Shadows dance over the shimmering light of it’s fur.

Somewhere after the towns border, the stag disappears back in the forest. But the air in the car stays light and fresh, saving the smell of old pines and dry leaves all though the night.

6) Skeppy and chaos

Well, after the whole mess in the main story, Skeppy definitely learned some lessons, especially about not being a dick :D

But the thing is – he can’t really help the fact that things tend to stir up around him a lot. He naturally brings in chaos into everything, because he is, in part, a personification, or an outlet for it in the world. And so, to feel, well and good, and himself Skeppy gotta do stuff that disrupts balance, and creates some mayhem. And in gave him a lot of trouble in early life, but in the course of the main story he learned that he can chose were he lets that chaos to take hold, learned what can come of that chaos, apart from utter misery.

Like, where it can help dismantle something destructive, and where – bring in the more positive change, that was already brewing, possible, but is stagnant for some reason.

Soooo, I can’t say Skeppy causes only minor chaos in his life, but he sure learns even more about not being a dick :DDDD

7) The studying

I think Bad will want to get a higher education at some point, because he wanted to, and because it’s already new millennia and all that. Bet he’ll go for something very technical and/or literature. Maybe he’ll start by piking up some classes in small time colleges, when they stop in one place for a while, and later get into an online program, because why not.

Skeppy is not a college guy at all. He’ll listen to Bad talk about it, read textbooks if he wants to, can research stuff, buuut going to classes and doing homework is definitely not his thing.

8) Stealing

Well, you’re right, Skeppy can and will steal stuff out of spite! And will be scolded by Bad for it, and will not feel (that) sorry about it. But real stealer between them will be Bad himself :D

It’s just… he has the corvid tendencies, and a hoard (a box) of sentimental mementos from different people and events, and the thrill of stealing something small and harmless is very exciting. Bad is very proud of his little collection. Skeppy finds it very adorable, a bit hypocritical, and kinda creepy. Like, that pretty box he gifted Bad at some point is now full of stuff like:

- pressed flower from the clearing they had a picnic at on their anniversary

- the button the waitress lost that one day the storm caused a black out in the whole town

- some small animal bones

- couple pretty rocks Bad stole from Skeppy’s pockets

- penny that was once glued to the ground

- a handful of teeth people (and not people) lost in fights with Bad

- pen from some fancy hotel

- rainbow dash keychain that belonged to a child

- the list goes on

9) Argument

Oh, that same day they’ll fight over whether they should stay at the really crappy and suspicious looking motel, or go sleep in a perfectly fine forest near the road. Ironically, Bad wanted to try out the motel (because, yay, first time spending the night back in civilization), and Skeppy was the one insisting on sleeping in nature (because the motel looks like it could give you 10 diseases if you even stand near it, and sleeping in the forest is kind of nice, and means they can cuddle).

10) Horses

The guys will probably ride them at some point. Well, Bad will ride, and Skeppy will sit on his horse and hope it knows what to do and where to go, because trying to make this giant thing do something seems dangerous. If they’ll have to actually go somewhere fast, Skeppy will not survive that day, his butt (and legs) will be dead for days to come.

And riding with Bad on one horse may sound romantic and nice, but all romance dies when the gallop starts.

11) Skeppy and climbing

Skeppy is more down to earth kind of guy, more of a “rocks and caves” kind of creature, real-life lizard person or something. Up on the trees and in the air – not really his element, yeah. But it doesn’t mean that Skeppy will accept this fact easy. The embarrassment of never managing to safely make it down a tree is too strong, he just has to do it all over again, and again. And again. Because, clearly, he was distracted this time. And the time before that Bad was teasing him, and it “disrupted his flow”. And, really, maybe these trees here just do not like Skeppy much, and make him slip a lot. Yeah.

So, more often than not, if Skeppy climbs a tree, he will not stop climbing it until he falls, or the tree ends. Bad had to take him off high branches couple times, forcefully, because, of course, Skeppy was sitting there for 2 hours just to properly enjoy the sunset. He can climb down at any point, he just Choses not to. The view is amazing. The bark is literally part of his skin now, not because he holds on tight, no, he’s just Than Much one with the nature )<

---

Don’t apologize for the questions! It’s always so fun to answer them, and it makes me think more about stuff I may have skipped, or didn’t think about before. It’s really nice :3c

Again, thank you for the ask, and for being here for this story! <3

(And I’ll try setting timers for rest breaks while I draw, mb that will help)

---

In The Dark - masterpost

#mcyt #mcyt fanart #badboyhalo #skeppy #skephalo #In The Dark #it's so hot here #my laptop's keyboard is like a stove #=c=#shtern talks

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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 3 years

Text

Never felt the rain

Summary: Could you write something with Bill having a young daughter and when she asks him to go playing outside in the rain while he was working, he brushed her off, so she went out on own her own and got lost, so Bill thinks she went missing like Georgie?

A/N: here you go anon, I hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think, it would mean a lot! Also, thank you for requesting this, it had me writing again after a long time and I really missed it, so thank you

Bill has a habit of writing as soon as rain starts drizzling from the sky. He doesn’t usually maintain a schedule, especially not after going back to Derry for a second time an gaining six friends who flitted straight back into his life and who each deserved as much of his time as the others, but when it rains, he forces himself behind the computer.

He draws the curtains shut, puts on a pair of noise cancelling headphones, and hopes that the downpour stops soon. According to his therapist, it’s because the weather reminds him of the day Georgie died and he turns to writing as a distraction, and while she might not be wrong, Bill prefers not to think about the specifics. All he knows is that as soon as dark clouds gather, he retreats to his study.

Audra knows this, and has, to Bills great shame, been a victim to his snappish behavior when he gets disturbed, so she leaves him be, and takes their daughter, Lily, on a mother daughter retreat. It’s their own routine that work well for the both of them, and so far, there haven’t been any problems with it.

Today, the bad weather struck out of nowhere, the rain spatters drumming their own beat on the windows and the foundation of the house, and Bill and remembers how bleak Georgie’s last day on earth had been. He retreats to his study in quiet without informing his daughter or wife about his plans, and slips into an imaginary world, where there’s no rain or bad memories.

He gets lost in it, thankfully. The rhythmic tapping of his keyboard and his own hushed voice lull him into a state so fully focused it allows him to forgo his environment. That includes ignoring the rain, but also the wooden door opening behind him as a small child sneaks in, big blue eyes full of a playful innocence.

He doesn’t hear Lily calling out to him, and is only notified of her arrival when her hand tugs on the sleeve of his shirt. It startles him, a cursed ‘Jesus’, slipping from his mouth before he clamps his teeth over his lips to stop more from tumbling out.

‘Daddy’, Bill reads of his daughters face, before he finally clads off the headset and hears her voice filter through.

She’s Georgie’s age now, and she resembles him a lot. For one, she looks up to her dad with as much wonder as her uncle did, a daddy’s girl through and through. She has the Knick for adventure too, though Bill is not sure that’s always a good thing.

‘What is it honey?’ He asks her with a soft voice. He suppresses the twinge of annoyance, now he’s broken out of his concentration, it’s hard not to notice the outside, and it’ll be difficult to reenter his writing groove.

‘Can we play outside?’ She suggest, lips contorted in a devious little smile that proves that Audra must have said no to her question, and she’s now trying her hand at the person she has wrapped around her finger.

Bill’s gut reaction is to agree. How could he not, when he made the promise to himself to always be the best dad he could be, ever since finding out Audra was pregnant. He swore to himself that he’d never neglect his child, never put her on the backburner for anyone or anything, and that he’d enjoy, relish in every memory he’d be allowed to make with her.

But, he can’t. Not in this situation. Not when Pennywise only came back a mere four months ago, and he was forced into painful memories and past mistakes. Not when he’s relatively convinced that IT’s gone for real, but not 100% assured.

He smiles painfully, and gently pulls his daughter in his lap. It’s not so much that he’s trying to spoil his daughter, it’s just that he loves spending time with her as much as she adores spending time with him. His heart twinges painfully at the notion of disappointing her.

‘Not right now Lil, Daddy’s working.’ He presses a kiss on the top of her head, and squeezes her a bit tighter when a particularly hard downpour causes his heart to clench painfully. If only he had given Georgie a hug like this before letting him out that day.

It’s far too late for that regret now, but he won’t allow the same fate to be bestowed upon his daughter.

‘Please?’ Lily pouts, blinking her eyes in a way that is entirely disarming. She’s so good at convincing, she would make an excellent actress one day. ‘It’ll be so much fun.’ She leans in closer on Bill’s lap, bumping her forehead against Bill’s chest. ‘I promise I won’t step in any puddles.’

It’s a complete lie of course, and Bill can’t help but grin at the idea of Lilly thinking she’s being sneaky about the whole thing, but still, he can’t concur.

‘Later, alright buttercup? And I promise that I’ll spend an entire day with you tomorrow?’

Lily doesn’t smile, so Bill does the one thing he’s become a pro at since becoming a dad; ticking her until she can’t help but laugh.

She shrieks instantly, squirming away from Bill’s fingers as the dance over her sides until she’s nearly toppled of his lip in her haste to escape him, and then giggles long after Bill’s stopped.

Once that too dies out, she bites her lip, seemingly scanning her chances of getting him to agree on going out anyway, but then she concedes.

‘Alright then’, she says a little bit disheartened, but agreeing none the less. She slitters back out as quiet as she came in, but not before a kiss over her shoulder and waving at Bill.

‘See you later dad.’

Bill smiles and waves back, crushed by love and grief battling in his heart for the upper hand, then he puts on his headphone, covers his ears, and he neglects to hear the front door open and lock with a deafening pull.

----

In the end, it’s the guilt that makes him give up only a half hour after Lilly came in to ask for his time. He peruse the last line he’d written, he hadn’t managed to find his flow after the interruption anyway, and closes the document of his new book for the day.

He still can’t find the strength to go outside in this weather but perhaps he can convince Lily that watching a movie and snacking on popcorn is a much better activity then getting wet and cold.

He shuffles into the kitchen, where Audra’s is already at, and wonders if they have enough corn to put together homemade popcorn.

‘Do you think Lily will want to watch a movie? I’m thinking Disney might be the way to go?’ He inquires Audra absentmindedly while scouring the pantries for the ingredients he needs. He knows, just from the sounds of Audra’s voice that something’s the matter.

‘She’s not with you?’ Audra chokes out, voice pinched in panic.

Bill’s heart stops for a full second, before rabbiting so hard his chest feels like exploding.

‘What?’ He asks, but the words feel foreign, like he’s not the one saying it. Audra’s responding look is enough to give him all the answers he needs.

----

The rain remains unforgiven towards Bill, the background of the yet another great tragedy in his life. Cliché as it is, it does help cover up his tears, about the only positive thing in his situation right now. Audra is next to him, on the same level of utter panic as Bill’s, but he hopes for her sake that he appears more composed then he actually is.

He viciously wishes for the losers to be with him now, but calling them would take up to much time and they live too far away to be of any aid anyway.

His neighbors are aiding in the search, but they’re not enough. He doesn’t trust them like he trust his friends, he doesn’t want the life of his daughter depending on strangers.

They keep telling him that she’s fine, that she’s most likely having the time of her life without realizing how her parents are in shambles, but Bill can’t believe that. Lily’s been out for at least thirty minutes, that’s the time they noticed she had disappeared, and even Bill is shivering his socks off. He can’t afford to think about how cold Lily must be.

He separates from the group of searches after the weird glances he receives unsettled peeks when he ducks on his knees and calls out for his daughter in a sewer. Audra, who knows in part what happened to Georgie, lets out a sob.

Bill feels bad for leaving his wife all by herself, but he wants to cover as much ground as possible. He can’t wait at their front porch praying for Lily’s safe return, he knows from experience how feeble that is.

The options of where Lily could be are limited. Her friends live too far away for her to have walked to them, and there was only one place kids of her age liked to hang out. Still, when the park turns up nothing, he scours the area surrounding it, yelling out Lily’s name until his voice skips and a hoarse tone underline his words.

‘P-p-please.’ He screams with his head thrown back towards the sky, his stutter going unnoticed. ‘H-haven’t you t-t-taken enough from m-m-me?’ He’s unsure who he’s calling out too.

Bill’s attention is pulled towards a curtain that wobbles open, and old lady peeking from behind it, judging him with curious eyes. The first one to gossip apparently, but the last to help. Just as with Georgie. Bile threatened to spill as Bill walks on.

With his energy running low, as does his hope, Bill concedes to try and walk in the other direction of his home, to see if anyone else has had more luck than him. Then, seemingly using up all of Bill’s luck for the rest of his life, a wobbled; ‘Daddy’, cries out.

He’s never backed up so quick, and when he lays eyes on Lily, he’s never run that fast towards her either. It’s the pure and utter fear you experience as a kid, when you get lost in a comic in the store and you swivel back around to your mom, but she’s gone somewhere and you can’t find her.

That’s the feeling that linger when you lose someone close to you. And when she pops back up, that’s the utter relief Bill gets to taste now.

He’s back on his knees before he can comprehend it, and his hand curls around Lily’s back and head, cradling her so close this chest it’s nearly suffocating. Bill weeps, caressing his daughters hair as he checks her over.

‘Oh honey’, he chokes, swelling multiple times to force back the lump of tears.

Lily’s crying too, though it seems more out of reluctant than anything else.

‘I’m sorry dad. I just wanted to go out and play. But I fell and I think my bike is broken. I’m really sorry.’

Bill sorrow laughs. He can’t stop the ridiculous laughter that’s so absurd.

‘Lily, I couldn’t care less about a bike’, Bill explains, and he means it every bit. He pulls her back in a tight hug, allowing himself ten more seconds before he has to let go of her.

‘Please don’t ever do that again,’ he whispers, leaving a quick kiss on her head. He holds her as close as he wish he could have done to Georgie, if he had been found alive too. Maybe later, tomorrow or the day after, he’d have a more firm conversation about how sneaking out is not okay, but today, the relief wins over every other emotion or lecture.

‘Is mom mad?’ Lily asks, her own arms clenched around Bill’s shirt so tight it’s clear that she also had a large fright.

Shit, Audra. In an instant, Bill picks up his daughter, arm holding her up by the knees. She’s old enough to walk, but Bill has longer legs and walks faster.

‘No’, he assures her, despite a conformation of Audra. He’s sure his feeling are rekindled in his wife too. ‘But we have to let her know you’re okay. She’s worried too.’

‘Okay’, Lily agrees easy, her head resting on Bill’s shoulders. The rain isn’t that cold anymore, now that he has his child back in the safety of his arms.

----

That evening, Bill, Audra and Lily are cuddles together on their couch, watching Aladdin. Lily has long slipped to the land of dreams, but Bill and Audra want to keep her close for a little while longer. Maybe they’ll all spend the night here anyway, regardless of future back pains, but that’s a discussion for later.

Bill swipes one of Lily’s curls from her forehead gently, smiling when she snores deeper, then settles again.

‘Love you buttercup.’ Bill says, in his mind, he thinks, ‘I’ll never let anything happen to you.’

#request #My writing #bill denbrough #bill denbrough imagines #bill denbrough as a dad #bill denbrough x daughter #the losers club imagines #it chapter two imagine #adult losers #adult Bill denbrough #audra

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jaekaicx · 3 years

Text

so ive had this idea for an amphibia fangame for a lil while now-

(LONG post)

its based around the idea that sometime after anne got sent back to earth, she decides to sneak out one night to visit sasha and marcys bedrooms and poke through their stuff. this causes a bunch of memories to come back to anne through flashbacks while she tries to process everything thats happened and her feelings abt their friendship.

i was thinking itd be mostly a visual novel type thing. maybe with a few small choices, but the story would be mostly linear. thered be around 3 main story beats: a prologue bit w/ anne sneaking out of her house, marcys bedroom, and sashas bedroom. also one of the main mechanics would be looking at one of their bedrooms and clicking on random objects of importance and triggering a flashback sequence.

it came from the idea that anne will probably try to just shove all her emotions down and try to ignore her feelings abt true colors and everything that went down then. especially with what we saw in the sneak peek, anne will probably try to hide her emotions and bottle them up, which is obviously not healthy. so eventually shes gonna have to work through her emptional baggage and try to process everything.

i havent thought through EVERYTHING just yet, just some more major plot points and maybe one or two ideas for flashbacks. nothing too solid yet. but heres a bit more detailed runthrough of the plot

summary - prologue

so it would start off with anne at home. she and her mom are talking outside annes room. her moms concerned abt how annes been handling everything that happened in amphibia but anne keeps brushing everything off. her mom tries to get her to open up, but she keeps dismissing her and eventually shuts herself in her room. after taking a bit to cool off and think anne decides that shes gonna take the night to just ride off her emotions and stop repressing them for once. she also makes an impulsive decision to sneak out and check out marcy and sashas rooms.

anne goes to gather her stuff in her room, and just as shes about to climb out the window, sprig walks in to check on her. hes still rly concerned abt his big sis but he knows he cant stop her. he tries to go with anne, but she tells him she needs to do this on her own. so, sprig lets her go and tries to cover for her while shes gone.

so at this point i’ll probably give the player the choice of whose house to visit first. it doesnt rly impact the story or whatever, but i guess it might have a small emotional impact depending on whose house u choose to go to first??

(quick note: after this bit, there arent too many specific details for the plot and stuff like that. its largely just an overall idea of how the plot is gonna go. and even then, there isnt much to it. i didnt think that far ahead yet, which is why there isnt as much refinement yet. so far i just have general ideas for how annes gonna get to the bedrooms, with a couple of vague flashback ideas. just keep that in mind; this whole thing is still being thought over and planned as im typing this out)

summary - sasha

with sasha, annes still rly conflicted abt how she feels abt her. of course shes still rly hurt by being backstabbed by her twice and swordfighting her as many times. but as much as she hates sasha she cant bring herself to fully give up on sash. she hates her guts but deep down shes still willing to give sash another chance.

there may or may not be a small sequence where anne has to sneak into sashas house, but eventually she works her way into sashas room. im not entirely sure abt the details of sashas house n her family yet. im probably gonna wait for info from s3 until i solidify anything, but for now i do know that sashas family has a big house n theyre probably rich.

so anne goes into sashas room and its been left pretty much untouched ever since annes birthday, save for the few times someone came in to dust things off. again, dont rly have all the details for sashas room, but it kind of has a vibe of controlled chaos, with organized clutter and a bit of a touch of a rebellious teen girl. one detail i do want to have is a calendar opened up to the month the trio disappeared, with annes birthday circled and highlighted so much that its impossible to miss.

the calendar itself might include a flashback. im thinking of also having a varsity jacket and some old stuffed animal be different “artifacts” that trigger their own memories. there’ll be a bunch more, but those are the only ideas i have so far fjsbndnd

summary - marcy

ok so i want to be rly mean about marcys segment: this is going off the theory that marcys parents moved away while the trio was in amphibia.

anne doesnt know this yet tho, so shes in for quite a surprise when she turns onto marcys street to find a realtor sign on the front lawn. the clues are all there: an empty driveway, sign on the lawn, an overall empty vibe coming from the house. but it doesnt completely register at first. its not til anne actually comes up close does she notice the sign.

anne tries to deny it, and decides to prove to herself that “no marcys parents wouldnt do this. theyre not that cruel. im just gonna check marcys room myself.” the front doors locked, so she just goes over to marcys window and climbs in.

but its completely empty.

ok not totally empty, but a lot of marcys furniture and stuff is gone, except for a few stray toys and other “junk.” the home guys (idk what theyre called????) are still kind of in the process of cleaning everything out, so theres still some stuff left here and there around the house. but its still way too empty. and its yet another gut punch for anne.

anne searches the rest of the house a bit more, hoping that shes just hallucinating. but no, marcys parents are really gone. she tried to deny it before, but now she has more of an idea of how shitty the wu parents are. so anne decides to just mope around in marcys old room, checking out the stuff their parents left behind.

maybe she finds an old blanket marcy liked when he was rly young. or an old rubiks cube from marcys vast collection. a cnc figurine, some cards, a pride flag, and old diary? a couple of other old toys, an old report card or two, or maybe even some stray clothes. whatever anne finds, its all thats left of marcy, at least in LA.

it really doesnt leave anne in that much of a better emotional position. she already felt conflicted enough about what happened in true colors and what she found out abt marcy. but seeing even a small glimpse of what marcy was dealing with, it just makes her more confused. marcy was such a sweet kid! theres no way they couldve done anything wrong. yet here anne was, betrayed by both of her childhood friends.

only now is anne really taking the time to process the fact that marcy essentially kidnapped her and sasha with the calamity box. he didnt mean to do it, and theres no way they couldve known the box would actually work, but it doesnt completely excuse marcy. his actions still hurt anne and sash, and while they meant the best of intentions, it didnt rly come through that way.

and now marcy was dead. stabbed in the back by the newt king.

and now annes curled up in an empty bedroom, wrapped up in one of marcys old blankets, trying to wrap her head around her feelings about marcy while reminiscing in the past.

summary - extras/epilogue??

i kind of like the idea that anne ends up drifting off in which ever bedroom ended up being the second one she visited. she slowly comes back to consciousness, with her surroundings feeling somewhat familiar, only to wake up in horror bc “OH SHIT I FORGOT TO GO BACK HOME” im not completely sold on the idea tho bc it feels a bit abrupt and like too much of a tone shift?? idk it doesnt feel exactly right

but anyways, im also playing around with the idea of a small epilogue scene with the calamity trio hanging out in annes room, a good amount of time after amphibia ended. dont know what theyre doing in there, but theyre just chilling and feeling a bit nostalgic i guess.

but uh yeah thats pretty much what ive got for the overall idea. it doesnt feel too out of reach, but somethjng like this would definitely be ambitious. i could mayyyybe handle writing out the vn and drawing the character sprites, but i have no idea how to code a vn or draw detailed backgrounds, both of which would be pretty important to this fangame fjsndj. so i might consider having help with this.

THIS ISNT ANY SORT OF PROMISE OR WHATEVER. id rly love to follow through and make this fangame a thing, but im not making any guarantees. i have no idea if i’ll actually follow through, but i would definitely love to.

who knows. maybe in like a couple years this might actually become a thing. but for now i have no idea

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marvelfansince08love · 4 years

Text

My best friend and my sister

Word count: 3714

Pairing: Tammy x Miller!Reader (Lou’s younger sister)

Prompts requested: 1 “Why didn’t you tell me” 18 “How could you be so irresponsible?”

A/N: For my sweet Anon, I hope you enjoy x Sorry it’s taking so long to get these out, I’ve been very burnt out recently but I’m back on track now!

Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome @natasha-danvers @saucy-sapphic @witchxaf @creepingwolfberry @chewbacca0805 @coconutlipss

Prompts 1 & 18

You and Lou had always been close growing up. Having such a cool older sister had its perks. Like when you were eight years old and you had pleaded and begged for that toy you had spotted in the window but your parents had shook their heads, not having enough money to afford ‘special gifts’. Those were only reserved for birthdays and Christmas’s. You had walked out of the store devastated with tears in your eyes until Lou walked you around the corner and revealed the toy from the depths of her long coat, a finger to her lips and a wink keeping the secret gift between you both. Lou had been seventeen then and was struggling to find a part time job to help pay some of the family's bills and so she could buy you gifts.

“Every kid should have a few toys growing up. Including you, Y/N.” She would say.

Once Lou had reached the sweet old age of twenty-one, an opportunity had presented itself before her, one that she just couldn't refuse. One right where the tall green statue stood proud overlooking the city of dreams. New York City was Lou's chance to make something of herself and, who were you to deny her of that?

"This could be good for us, Y/N! I could make enough money to bring you over and you can live with me!" She had exclaimed, excitement filling her youthful blue eyes. You had nodded and basked in her excitement, the dreading feeling of abandonment slowly creeping its way through into your chest.

Once you had turned eighteen, Lou had kept to her promise of bringing you over to the big city, flying first class from Australia and leaving your parents down under, ready to start your new life; a better life.

You had lived with Lou while studying in New York. Your apartment was small, but enough for the two of you. That was, until Lou introduced you to the infamous Deborah Ocean. The woman was beautiful and mysterious, her words carefully calculated, her dark eyes taking in the room before she had even stepped into it. You thought she was pretty badass compared to your older sister, especially when you found out what they did for a living. The ‘jobs’ that they did helped keep you both afloat through your first few years in New York City, especially when the bigger jobs were coming through, which helped you move into a bigger, fancier place that you could call home.

That was the day you fell in love with the most breath-taking human you had ever laid eyes on. The woman was average height, her blonde hair resting against her breasts in soft curls. The small dark freckle on the corner of her upper lip drawing you in and oh, that wide smile that lit up her whole face making her brown eyes sparkle ever so slightly under the sunlight that seeped into the open living room space where you had stood, staring a little too long at this stunning woman.

"Stop drooling, kid. You're gonna end up needing the mop at this rate and we haven't even put an offer in yet," Debbie had whispered to you, teasing your love sick expression. You had snapped out of your gaze at that remark, stuttering over your words trying to defend yourself. You both stood and watched as Lou and this beautiful blonde discussed the price by the bay window overlooking the busy streets of New York. Tammy was her name, and it was the most beautiful name you had ever heard of, her soft voice showing a tiny hint of a lisp making you swoon just that bit more for her.

She was an old friend of Debbie's who knew just the right places for the best prices around the area, she had also helped with some of the more high profiled jobs when needed, mainly moving various illegal items across borders. You looked at the sweet blonde in awe, wondering how a woman like that could look so innocent and sweet.

You had never gotten over that first meeting with Tammy but as the years went by and you matured into a strong minded individual, you realised that you'd rather ignore that pining feeling and continue on with your life as if nothing had changed within you that day. As if you hadn't pictured her breathless beneath you while you buried your fingers deep inside her throbbing heat or how good her left hand would look with a diamond ring on her finger letting everyone know she is yours and you are hers.

No, she was a friend of your sister… your older sister, and a good friend at that.

'Still, it doesn't stop you from thinking about how sweet she would sound moaning your name,' You think bitterly to yourself, hating that you still have this pull to her.

That’s why you totally weren’t stalking her social media page as you entered your shared apartment with your older sister and her best friend. Briefcase in hand and your eyes glued to your phone screen, eyes transfixed on the sweet blonde who’s smile still makes your stomach flutter.

You were so invested in your scrolling that you had missed the knowing smirk shared between your sister and her best friend.

“Hey Kid, how was your first day on the job?” Lou asks, hiding her smirk beneath her coffee mug as Debbie lays out the new flooring plans for their next big job. You look up at the sound of her voice, taking in the blue papers on the living room table.

“Yeah, it was good! The students were lovely and eager, which was encouraging.” You gush, the excitement from your first successful day distracting you from the breath-taking photos of your secret crush.

“God, just the thought of college makes me shiver now. Thank god I develop my skills as a con artist.” Debbie jokes, her eyes trained on the carefully mapped out plan. You move to sit next to her, leaning your chin onto her shoulder pointing at an unmarked area on the layout plans.

“If you place the camera chip by the corner on the east wing here, that should cover up to the left side of the entryway down the hall.” You mumble, before grabbing Debbie’s hot coffee and taking a sip. Lou scoffs from her seat across but you can spot the pride in her eyes. Living with two very intelligent con artists has its perks. Debbie kisses the top of your head with enthusiasm.

“You’re the best, pumpkin. Still think you’re going down the right career path?” She questions, a playful smirk appearing on her lips making you shake your head as you move towards your bedroom.

“You guys have your thing, I have mine. Besides, I’m far too good for your lil crew, Ocean.” You joke, turning to wink at the brunette before heading into your room. You falter slightly upon closing your door hearing your sister’s voice shout through to you from the other side.

“The ‘crew’ are coming over later to go through the plan. You wanna join us?!” You bump your head lightly against your wooden door, already feeling the knowing smirks coming from both women.

“Maybe. I’ll see how I feel later.” You reply against the door, before moving away and removing your work clothes piece by piece, leaving a trail of material towards the en-suite bathroom.

Placing your phone on the drawer by the bathroom door, you head in for a shower completely missing the new text message from your favourite blonde.

Hey darling! I hope your first day went well. Can’t wait to hear all about it tonight! Tam x

***

Writing up the last few lines for your lesson plans, you look towards the digital clock on your desk as your stomach flutters in anticipation at seeing the blonde. You see, you may have never seeked out your intentions with Tammy but you would be fooling yourself if you thought you were over your silly crush on the woman.

A loud knock on your door interrupts your thoughts.

“Y/N! They’ll be here soon, are you joining us or not?” Lou’s deep voice came muffled from the other side of your door.

“Uh, yeah. Let me finish up this lesson plan and I’ll be out.” You reply, distracted by your thoughts. Shaking your head, you refocus back onto the task at hand before you can let your thoughts trail off into a much more filthier place.

You continue to write in your planner making sure that every detail has been looked over at least twice wanting everything to be perfect, completely unaware of the unannounced presence that stands by your doorway leaning heavily against the doorframe, soft eyes gazing lovingly at your hunched over figure.

“Hey, you.”

The voice startles you from your productivity, making you gasp and swirl around swiftly at the unexpected voice. Hand on chest, you try to catch your breath as the sweet angelic sound of Tammy’s laughter echoes throughout the bedroom.

“Oh my god, Tammy! You gotta warn me next time.” You breathe, turning back to rearrange your notepad and planner. Tammy chuckles this time before pushing away from the doorframe and making herself comfortable at the foot of the bed.

“I’m sorry darling, but we’ve been out there for nearly an hour and well.. I missed you. We haven’t hung out with you much lately and we’re missing our most valuable member of the crew.” She confesses, a small smile playing on her lips as she takes in your room. You feel your heart flutter at the thought of her missing you, but you quickly squish down the thought knowing she didn’t mean just her but the rest of the gang.

“Oh shit! I hadn’t realised the time. You guys haven’t ordered yet, right?” You ask, eyes hopeful and mouth watering at the thought of some delicious greasy pizza.

“We have..” You pout at her words before watching her smile wide at you. “But don’t worry Y/N, I ordered your favourite.” She informs you with a smug expression. You leap out of your chair and practically leap towards her, placing your arms around her shoulder you press a big kiss to her cheek before moving away just as quickly heading for the living room.

“This is why you’re my favourite, Tam Tam.” You exclaim, already out of the room before she could blink. Within your excitement you missed how the blonde touched her cheek where you had placed the kiss onto her scorching skin, a tint of pink blushing across her cheeks.

Yeah, you weren’t the only one smitten.

***

Over the next few days, you had helped your sister and her crew form the perfect plan to take over the new Randervelt Museum and their very expensive art pieces. Debbie had dropped enough hints that you ended up being a part of the plan.

“We can’t do this without you, Y/n.”

“The money is good.”

How could you say no? After all, you were a Miller and the thrill of a heist had always been appealing to you ever since your sister brought you along to your first one when you turned 21. “It’s tradition”, Lou had said.

During that time, you had noticed Tammy had been awfully quiet around you. Sometimes you would catch her staring just a little too long at you before she would turn away and engage in conversation with one of the others, as if nothing was wrong. You had tried to talk to her about her odd behaviour but every time you got her alone, she would make some kind of excuse to not be around you.

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt but the plan had gone smoothly with everyone accounted for, all except for well... you.

“Where is she, Constance?” Tammy raged through her earpiece, getting ready to jump back out of the van and go searching for you herself.

“She’s got caught up with that big ass guard. I’m going to intervene to see if I can get her out of the way.” Constance replies, far too calm for her liking.

“What do you mean caught up with the guard?! What’s he saying to her?”

“I dunno but, uh… it seems like he’s flirting with her.” Tammy gulps slightly at that, feeling her stomach drop.

“Well, get him to back off before I come in there and do it myself.” She says through gritted teeth.

“Alright girl, chill the F out. I’ll go get your girl.” She mumbles into her ear. Tammy’s eyes widen at the blunt statement as she hears quiet chuckling from the others.

“Ladies, can we please focus? This is my sister and I swear to god if anything happens to her I- just… Constance, go and get her. Me and Debbie are going to bring round the other truck so we can transfer the paintings over to you, got it?” Lou’s authoritative voice crackles through the earpiece. A collective of sorry's are mumbled across the team as everyone returned back to the task at hand. Tammy holds her breath, waiting for Constance's confirmation of a safe exit with you in toe.

“Got her. We’re on our way out now, be ready for us.”

She can finally breathe again.

***

The journey back to the warehouse was quiet and tense. Tammy tried to let go of the pent up frustration and unwanted anger of having you in such a situation in the first place, but she couldn’t seem to drop it. That is, if her knee bouncing rapidly had anything to say about it.

You kept your eyes fixed on the empty seat across from you, knowing that a certain pair of brown doe eyes were burning into your skull from the spot across. Once you had all entered the apartment, the team disperses towards the living area bringing in the pieces one by one.

Tammy is no longer able to keep her thoughts to herself, the words ready to spill from her throat.

“How could you be so irresponsible?” She scolded, turning towards you.

Your eyes widen as you gape at her, showing your shock at her blunt words.

You can hear Lou chastising Tammy quietly in warning from across the room, but from the look on the blonde's face she wasn’t about to listen to her friend.

“Excuse me?” You exclaim, taking a step closer to her.

“You could have gotten into some serious trouble back there Y/N, if that guy had caught onto what you were doing.. You need to be more careful.” She lectured, trying to slow down her rapid breathing knowing that secretly, deep down, it wasn’t your fault.

“Are you being serious right now?!” You question, baffled by her defensive behaviour.

“I knew it was a bad idea putting you in danger like that. I should have said something.” Tammy mutters to herself, but her words are clear enough for you to hear.

“What do you mean, Tam? Is that why you’ve been so weird with me? I knew there was something up with you.” You summarize, pointing an accusing finger at the blonde. You notice at the corner of your eye, the other woman silently leaving the room, clearly not wanting to be involved.

Your eyes catch your sisters, her crystal blue eyes staring back at you with understanding and knowing, baffling you even more before Debbie escorts her reluctant form out of the room, knowing that you are old enough to deal with the problem at hand.

“Okay, fine! I was pissed off, alright? I hated the fact that you were dragged into yet another job, an illegal job might I add. You are doing something good with your life right now, darling. I don’t want you getting mixed up in all of this. You’re too good for this.” She says, indicating towards the stolen art pieces. You frown at just how concerned she is with your involvement.

“Why do you care so much, Tam? I’m just your best friend's kid sister, remember?” You mock, remembering back to the time when you overheard her conversation with Debbie about your odd relationship with the older woman.

“She’s young, Debs. I’m merely being a friend.” Those were her words back then and they still stung to this day.

Tammy drops her gaze, shame evident, remembering how she saw your retreating form from the corner of her eye back when she spoke to Debbie about her confusing feelings towards you.

“I only said that because I was too scared to admit how I actually felt about you, Y/N.” Her voice soft, faltering slightly under her confession. Her eyes bright with unshed tears, her shoulders dropping as if the weight of her secret love for you has been lifted. You gape at the woman in front of you, overwhelmed with uncertainty and hope.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You managed to croak out, unable to form further words.

Tammy shrugs her shoulders in defeat, before slowly meeting your conflicted gaze. You could see the vulnerability in those big brown eyes, making you step towards her. That instant pull between you growing stronger just like it had during that first meeting.

“What, and tell your sister ‘oh hey, I know I’m one of your closest friends but I’m in love with your younger sister’? I don’t think that would have gone down well back then, do you?” You both chuckle slightly realising how ridiculous this all is.

“I’m pretty sure she’s known something was going on,” you pause for a minute, thinking carefully about your next words. “Because I dunno if you know this, but I’ve been in love with you since I first laid my eyes on you.” You confess, folding your arms across your chest as if to protect yourself from your own words.

Before you could apologise or take back your words, scared by the fallen silence that has settled between you both, Tammy walks the last few steps towards you placing her hands gently against your jaw, cupping your face within the palms of her hands. The tenderness within her hold makes you want to cry at just how much love seeps from her one single touch.

“I would very much like to kiss you.” She whispers, her lips an inch away from your own. You close your eyes basking in the moment before you reply.

“Then, do it.” Her lips clash with your own at your words, desperate as if they’ve been waiting a million years just to touch your own soft lips. Her tongue traces along your bottom lip making you part your lips ever so slightly but enough for her to trace her tongue along your own, fighting for dominance. Bringing your hands up, you thread your fingers through long blonde locks keeping her close not wanting to break away just yet. You continue with this fight for dominance with your mouths before the distinctive sound of someone gagging makes you break apart.

Turning your heads to the side, you both see Lou and the others stood by the doorway with stupid grins on their faces. All except for Lou, who was fake gagging next to Debbie who just rolled her eyes at her best friend's antics.

“Are you guys done sucking each other's faces? Because I wanna order pizza.” Nine says with indifference, before moving into the room and towards the kitchen where the food menus lay scattered on the kitchen island table.

The others laugh watching as you both fluster at being caught making out like teenagers. You eye up your sister who has been very quiet about the whole exchange, feeling Tammy shift uncomfortably next to you clearly waiting for your sister to react.

You keep a supportive arm around her waist, silently telling her that no matter what you’re both stronger than the rejection. Lou walks agonizingly slowly towards you both with a stoic face, giving nothing away while Debbie rolls her eyes at her friend's dramatics, once again.

“My best friend and my sister...” Is all she says, as if trying to piece the information together out loud.

You gulp once she’s up close to you, standing with her arms crossed as her eyes flicker between you and Tammy. The silent exchange feels like it goes on for a century before she breaks out into a huge smile, showing her pearly white teeth and her arms out wide towards you both.

“My best friend and my sister!” She exclaims excitingly, before pulling you both into a three-way hug. You both lock eyes over your sister’s shoulder, relief evident in those perfect brown eyes making you grin softly.

“Yeah, me and your sister, Lou.” Tammy says as she laughs at your sister's antics. Lou pulls back, holding your shoulders with her hands eyeing your now clasped hands.

“Just don’t make it gross, yeah? She’s still my little sister and I will kick your arse if you hurt her, Tam Tam.” Lou threatens, but the tone of her voice clearly shows she’s only half joking.

You roll your eyes at your sister’s empty threat before she bops you on the nose, which you bat away with your free hand.

“That goes for you as well, kid. She’s still one of my best friends, you hurt her in any way then me and you will be having words. Got it?” She promises, before winking and walking back towards the kitchen where the others have been not so subtly listening in to the exchange.

You look at the blonde in front of you, taking in her soft features and perfect smile, overwhelmed with love for this woman in front of you. Leaning in, you kiss the corner of her mouth softly.

“I could never hurt you Tam Tam. Who would get my pizza order right, if not you?” You tease, watching the mischievous glint burn within her brown eyes as she playfully shoves you.

“You, dork.” Grabbing her hand quickly, you place it over your heart and whisper.

“But I’m your dork,” you smile cheekily at her.

“Yeah, my dork.” She confirms, her adoring eyes gazing into your own thinking to herself.

Finally.

#tammy x reader #sarah paulson x reader #oceans 8 #lou miller x reader #tammy is an angel #sarah paulson #lou miller #debbie ocean

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sweettodo · 3 years

Text

Bratty reader ⟿ Shota Aizawa .

Quick little cock tease y/n, trash content but it’s whatever. I could do a lot better but there’s other things I’m thinking about. Anyways.

Includes : cock tease, smut, [a lil] dom Aizawa, bratty reader, edging, swearing.

Word count : 870

“Such a bad kitten, do you like making me mad?”

My hair in Aizawa’s grasp, ripping out of my scalp, his annoyed face right in front of mine. Not answering his question made the man even more mad, he yanks my hair and I gasp. He scoffs and rolls his eyes, “Oh yeah, I forgot you liked that shit.” He shoves me off of him, almost getting whiplash, I wince.

“Whatever Shota...” I mumble, rolling my eyes and getting on my bruised knees as he spins in his office chair to face me. In our house, I always was with Shota; or at least as much as I could because of how little he was home. He loved it though, he also enjoyed the challenge. I was a fucking brat. His legs spread, shirtless body and sweats what the only thing he wore, his laptop open, grading papers.

Walking into his office minutes earlier, wanting to pounce on the sexy man, his hair tied into a messy ponytail and his muscles in his right hand clenching as he wrote; I wanted to be a little gnat in his ear, bugging him to get a little reaction out of him; all for result of throwing me around a little. Call it a balance of power...

Now, after he had so obviously made it clear I was annoying him, scowl on his face, mean looking eyes. I use my knees to crawl in between his legs, my arms resting nicely over his thighs, looking at him with puppy eyes. I needed him to fuck me, of annoying him was the way to go then I had to do what I had to do, “Sir...” I breathe.

“Annoying me now when you can see I’m grading papers.” He grits through his teeth, “The more you piss me off, the less I’m gonna give you want you want.” He growls, looking down at me, my hands fiddling with his sweatpants strings, pouting. His hand running behind my ear and into my hair.

“I miss you, though” I whine, drawing my finger all around his stomach, licking my lips a little, “can I give you?” I ask, slowly grabbing ahold of Shota’s dick; hardening dick for that matter.

He grunts and sucks in a breath, watching attentively to how I slowly grabbed his cock into my tiny hands, watching my puppy eyes beg him to be stretched out, “I’m working.” He spits, but he doesn’t move, my hand slowly pumping the bottom of his cock through his pants.

“Let me taste you?” I beg, he rolls his eyes, he sighs and nods. Giddily, I start tearing at his pants hungrily, he chuckles with a slight ‘oh my god’ as he lift’s up his back. I rip down his pants and his hard on is tight around his boxers. He was officially captivated by my watering mouth spitting down the base of his cock.

“You must want something more, sucking my cock at the price of what?” He questions, my wet hand stroking up and down.

“I want you to fuck me.” I cheer, right as he’s about to say something, his dick is far down my throat, sucking him hard, my hand rotating up and down, side to side to get where my mouth couldn’t reach.

“Such a fucking cock hungry slut, what would you do if you didn’t have me?”

He groans, swearing under his breath, “god, fuck- you want me to tear that pretty pussy open, kitten?” I hum against his cock, he grabs a fist full of my hair to keep it out of his face, my hollowed cheeks sucking him in. Spit rolling down my chin, mascara and eyeliner running down my face, he was so close to nutting down my tight- beaten throat.

“You’re so lucky I please you.” He mutters into my ear, I shiver and feel up his strong thighs.

I see his free arm moving, shutting his laptop and shoving his papers to the far left of the desk, he rips my mouth off his cock by my hair, the little pop sounding throughout the office, “don’t ruin my students’ papers.” He mutters, lifting me up onto his desk, laying me onto my back. Whining, he flips up my little black skirt; which he loved.

He wasted no time sliding his big cock into your cunt, groaning at the feeling of your walls pulsating around his veiny member.

“See that kitten? Look at me.” I open my eyes and follow his eyes, he grabs my hand and presses it against my stomach, I gasp, eyes welling up with tears from him hitting all my sparking little nerves.

“I can feel it-” I moan, the shape of his dick which I could feel sliding in and out of me from my stomach, which only further turned me on.

He picks up pace, his big, calloused hand slamming down to meet my gasping throat, gripping at the right pressure points until he saw my face turn pale and purple.

His teeth stuck in a grit, demolishing my pussy, “you like this? You’re always distracting me with that body of yours,” he growls, my eyes roll to the back of my head, he continues, “I can deprive you of my cock, but you don’t want that right kitten?” He pulls out, I swing my head up, catching my breath, feeling cold and empty and baffled that he just violated me like this.

“No Shota! Please no! I’ll be good I promise!” I squeak, my legs wrapping around his waist.

He ponders, before smirking and reaching down, pulling up his pants in the process, shaking my legs off his wide waist, “Aizawa!” I growl, beyond furious.

“Get outta’ here I need to grade pape-”

“Aiz-”

“Y/n!” He roars, I roll my eyes and strut out of the office, slamming his door behind me.

I needed to cause more trouble. Now.

#aizawa x reader #shoto aizawa #mha smut #mha #mha aizawa #bnha #smut #bocu no hero academia

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dragonsareourfuture · 3 years

Text

Yoosung/GN!Reader — Muse

AHHHH WHY ARE ALL THE FANDOMS I GET INTO DEAD OR DYING??? Anyway here’s some Yoosung fluff with an artist reader who made a work of art with him as the subject. Begins with headcanons, ends with a lil oneshot. Enjoy!!!

- Yoosung would absolutely go nuts if you were to paint or draw or even just sketch him! As soon as he saw the image you sent of it through the chat room he nearly let out a yelp of joy.

- He’s internally freaking out, he can’t figure out what to tell you that would perfectly encompass how he feels. Just anything he types he’ll have to backtrack because no, it’s not good enough!

- Because of how long he takes though, you might get worried that he didn’t like it and is trying to find a way to let you down easy. In regular Yoosung fashion, he would never just outright say he hated it.

- But after a while, he still can’t think of anything to say, so he sends a picture instead — in it, he’s smiling like a goof, eyes turned to crescents and partially filled with tears. He’s using a hand to hold half of his face in astonishment (and definitely not to cover at least some of the blush he’s sporting). As he’s said before, no one’s ever loved him romantically before, let alone decided to use their talents to create art with him as the subject.

- Along with the picture he sends a little message that reads “I...I’m speechless...! In a good way of course! It looks too good for me to say with words!”

- He feels super sad that he can’t see the painting in person yet and probably calls you about it, asking you to send him more pictures of it until he can get his hands on it.

- He’d just be so grateful and want you to know that, the sweet baby <3

- Count on him asking for a fanart of his favorite LOLOL characters or his avatar after he discovers the true extent to your talent. “Only if you want to of course!”

. . .

Grand doors swung open, giving way to the chilled air outside. The sun was lower in the sky than it had been when the party first began, now brushing against the trees that dotted the skyline. Soft, golden light shone in your face, leaving you to blink away the slight discomfort it caused and keep your gaze angled to the pavement. You almost couldn’t believe you had been there for so long, still filled with energy and partying with your previously strictly virtual friends as all the guests you had managed to rope in left one by one.

By now, there were only a few cars in the lot, all of them belonging to you and your fellow RFA members. You tugged a soft hand along with you as you made your way down the walkway of the party hall and to your car.

A soft chuckle caused you to look behind you, acknowledging the person you could officially call your boyfriend as he asked you, “(Name), where are we going? The other members will worry, y’know.”

“Aw, but you want your present, don’t you?” You responded, a smirk playing on your lips as you turned back around. You reached into your pocket and pulled out your car keys, clicking the button that made your lights blink and the passenger’s side door unlock.

“Present? You didn’t have to— oh! The portrait!” Though you couldn’t see him, you could practically hear the bright smile accompanying his words. You knew he wouldn’t forget. He had been asking when he could finally get his pretty hands on your artwork since you sent him a picture over chat. He didn’t include that part about his hands being pretty, but you thought it was necessary.

You popped open the car door, hiding the contents from his single-eyed gaze with your back. “Now, I made sure it didn’t get too roughed up on the drive here, hence the wrapping—“ a canvas wrapped in a sheet was presented to Yoosung. He brought his hands together in anticipation. “—plus this makes for a cool reveal, don’t you think?”

“Yes! I wanna see it!”

“Okay, okay! Ready?” You inquired teasingly, merely fingering the drapes covering the canvas and pulling it down agonizingly slow.

Yoosung pouted childishly and reached forward with too much speed for you to stop him, tearing the sheet from your work.

You stomped your foot jokingly. “You’re no fun, Yoo.” Your smile faded when he didn’t respond. “Yoosung?”

You inspected his expression for any sign of anger, despair, annoyance — really anything that would have pointed to him being unhappy with your work in any way. But what you were met with was more confusing than anything. His expression was quite unreadable, and with one eye being covered by ivory bandages it was even more difficult to get a read on what he was currently feeling.

But the eye that you could see was transfixed on your work. His mouth opened and closed, like he was trying to say something but couldn’t for an unknown reason. Perhaps it was the same reaction that he displayed over text when you showed him for the first time — just speechlessness. You hoped to the gods that was the case. You didn’t know what you would do if he suddenly hated it.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” The nickname seemed to snap him from his stupor. Up until now it had mainly been him that used nicknames like that.

“Oh! It’s nothing it’s...wow....I mean no one’s ever really done this for me before!” Yoosung reached out to brush his fingers against the canvas, feeling each individual stroke of your brush, each bump and dent in the paint in what you swore was disbelief.

“I’m sure Rika’s done something similar.” You shrugged.

The blonde college student smiled sadly. He nodded. “Rika has done a lot for me, that’s true. But this...it’s so you! It’s so unique in a way that can only be you and I don’t want you to ever think that isn’t good enough. Okay?” His expression had grown progressively more serious, more determined to convince you of the value of your efforts. You felt the slight burn of tears meeting your eyelids, pushing them back down with a couple of blinks.

“Okay...I won’t. I promise,” You assured. You looked down at your hands, remembering you still held the portrait. You thrusted it towards him. “Here, it’s yours anyway.”

“Wh...mine? (Name), you know I love it but I couldn’t...! You worked too hard on it for me to just take it!”

“Yoosung, don’t do that self deprecation thing, ‘kay? I made this for you. I worked hard on it because I wanted to give you something I’m proud of.” You paused, waiting for any sort of reaction. All you got was Yoosung’s hands drawing themselves closer to his chest, twitching with uncertainty. So, you pushed your bottom lip out and pouted with obvious exaggeration. “Please? If you don’t I’ll be sad...”

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes playfully, finally reaching out and wrapping his fingers around the canvas and lifting it out of your grasp. He smiled down at the image of himself. It looked just like him, but your unique style influenced the way you painted his features in the best possible way. He could tell exactly which photo you used as a reference. He was looking straight at the camera, or viewer in this case, with a side-eyed gaze. In the left corner was the bouquet of red roses he had bought specifically for that picture. Specifically to ask you to be his.

“Why are you so mesmerized?” You asked, chuckling at how Yoosung stared at the painting in awe. “You’ve seen it before.”

“Yeah but this is different! Seeing it in person is so much better!” He defended quickly.

“I got it, it’s okay, sweetheart.” You shut and locked your car door, arm finding its way around Yoosung’s back as your hand found purchase on his waist. You pressed a delicate kiss onto his temple. “I’m really glad you like it.”

“Of course I did! Oh! And I bet the other members will too! Can I show them?”

A laugh broke through your lips. “Obviously. But if any of them ask for a portrait too they have to pay me first.”

“Oooh so I get special privileges?”

“The boyfriend of the artist always gets special privileges. It helps that you’re too damn beautiful not to paint. You’re like my muse.”

You couldn’t believe you hadn’t got to see Yoosung flustered in person before now. And it was glorious, if you did say so yourself. The classic tinge of pink dusted his squeezable cheeks and ears and he let out a small whine of indignation.

“If you keep saying things like that I’ll combust from embarrassment!”

“Better make sure I say more things like that, then.”

Yoosung whacked you with the canvas.

#mystic messenger #yoosung mystic messenger #yoosung kim #yoosung x reader #kim yoosung #mystic messenger x reader #x reader #reader insert #reader x mystic messenger #artist reader #x reader scenarios #x reader oneshot #mystic messenger headcanons #x reader headcanons

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illfoandillfie · 3 years

Note

uhm if you still need and want a benny boi request: hiking with him and soft sex by the fireplace to warm up 🥺 or in the tent bc it's probably pretty cold ngl

(@queenmylovely)

God you bitches get me. These prompts are wonderful and came in about 30 seconds apart lmao so i hope you like what I did with them!

warnings: smut but its like super somft and fluffy, also a lil bit of arguing

Blurb Advent: Day 16

The trip wasn’t exactly what you’d imagined it would be. Initially you’d been planning to get away during Summer, maybe head to the beach for a couple of weeks, spend your time relaxing in the sun, hitting the waves. But the timing never quite worked out and the whole idea of going away was put on hold until it had cooled down again. And of course, once it became clear the trip would be in winter, you had to stop thinking of the beach and find somewhere new to go. Luckily (you supposed) a family friend of Ben’s had a cabin in the woods that he was happy to let you use. You weren’t quite as thrilled with it as you would have been a little beach side cottage, but you really just wanted some time for you and Ben without other distractions and he wanted to get out of the city. And neither of you wanted to wait another six months for the break. So the arrangements were made and early on a Friday morning you grumbled your way out of bed and into the warmest clothes you owned, packing everything into the car, ready to head off on your holiday.

The cabin was cute, surrounded by tall trees and the promise of picturesque views. A generator had been installed a few years previous to allow access to electricity and there was a large rain tank to collect water for all the plumbing systems. You had been warned that in dryer weather you may need to seek out the nearby well to collect water for drinking and cooking. There’d been a lot of rain in the previous month so you didn’t think you’d need to worry about it but, all the same, you kept it in mind, adding a few metal water bottles to your essential supplies (which included things like food, the makings of tea and coffee, toothpaste and condoms). On top of the essentials you also made sure to pack Ben’s guitar and your travel paint set in the hopes that the seclusion and nature would inspire you both.

The first day was mostly spent getting there and unpacking. When you arrived, you had to carry all your gear up a short incline that the car couldn’t access but it was worth it when you saw the scene. It was gorgeous, the surrounding woods a little damp with fresh rainfall, the cabin looking cozy and warm and perfect for a romantic getaway. You spent the morning putting food in the fridge and poking around the cabin, getting the doors and windows open to let in some air and natural light. In the afternoon you checked out the store of firewood and decided to collect some more so that it would have time to dry out under cover before you needed it. Together, bundled up in warm coats and gloves, you walked around the immediate area, collecting any logs that looked large enough as well as smaller sticks for kindling. In the evening you made dinner together and settled in for a night on the couch, wrapped in as many blankets as you could get your hands on. Things had been so busy lately you almost didn’t know what to do with yourself now that you were taking a break from it all. But the chaos you’d been living in had meant you didn’t get much of a chance to talk to Ben properly so that was what you did. Snuggled up on the couch and talked, finally able to just be together.

The next day Ben suggested you check out the surrounding area, follow the hiking trail up the hill and see what was out there. There were practical reasons like finding the well just in case you did need it, but mostly it was just for fun. You each filled a backpack with a water bottle and some food as well as a grabbing a small first aid kit, some bug spray to combat the mosquitos you’d noticed the night before, and your paints. Ben slung his guitar over his back and you set off. The walk itself was fine though there were a few steep places on the trail. Ben used them as an excuse to hold your hand, getting a few steps higher and then offering his to help you follow. It was silly but cute and you found yourself giggling whenever he did it. It was quiet too, which was nice. You didn’t meet any other people on the trail but that meant you could stop and point out creatures that crossed your path or pause to take photos of interesting plants and pretty views you might like to paint later.

At the top of the hill was a little lookout area with a park bench. Since you seemed to have it to yourself you unpacked your bags and ate lunch looking out over the tops of the trees below. As you ate you pulled out your sketchbook and started to draw things you could see, going over some with paints and leaving others as just the outline. Ben pulled out his guitar and found a small spot to lean against a tree and play softly, his eyes closed as he plucked at the strings. It was tranquil and peaceful and perfect. Or nearly perfect. You hadn’t noticed it as much while you were walking but now that you were standing still you realised just how freezing cold it was. For a while you tried to ignore it but eventually you had to speak up.

“Benny? Are you getting cold? My fingers are starting to freeze, maybe we should think about heading back?”

Ben dropped into the seat beside you and grabbed your hands in his, “I’ll warm them up for you.”

“That’s cute,” you smiled, not mentioning how unhelpful of a suggestion it was, “But I’m serious. The walk up here took a while anyway, might be best to start heading back down now, before it starts getting dark and even colder. Plus I don’t like the look of those clouds,” you pointed to a dark patch of sky off in the distance.

Ben eyed the rainclouds and thought for a moment, “Alright, you make a good point. Let’s pack up.”

As quickly as you could you packed everything back into your bags and began to make your way back down the slope. Walking did help warm you up again though you couldn’t help but mention your need to defrost in front of the fire. And your discomfort only got worse as the rain began. The trees protected you a little but not enough and before long your teeth were chattering and your toes felt numb. Ben was just as unhappy, his hair dripping onto his face as he snapped at you to hurry up. He got particularly cranky when you paused to take a photo of the pretty haze the rain had thrown over one of the scenes you’d photographed on your way up, the roof of your cabin just visible through the trees.

“All your fucking complaining and now you want to stop to take pictures? Jesus Christ.”

“Hey, if it wasn’t for me you’d still be sitting up at the fucking lookout twiddling your thumbs.”

“You’re so fucking full of it. And slow! Could you walk a little faster please!” Ben tried to grab your hand and pull you along but you shook him off.

“It’s not my fault my feet feel like ice blocks. I didn’t even want to come out to this stupid cabin.”

“You’re the one who was practically begging for me to take you somewhere.”

“Yeah but not a fucking cabin in the middle of nowhere. This is the start of a horror film Ben. You brought me to a horror film.”

“Y’know this isn’t exactly what I wanted either. I was hoping for something a little more romantic, a little less bitching.”

“Well I think you’ve put paid to that.” You spat back, dropping your eyes to your feet so you could watch the terrain you were walking over, not wanting to slip in case Ben decided to walk ahead.

You were surprised when Ben held his hand out to you, offering his help to get down a particularly uneven patch of the path, but you took it all the same.

“Sorry,” he said softly, keeping his hand tight around yours, “I know this isn’t ideal.”

“It was lovely up until the rain,” you shrugged, “Sorry I stopped before, and that I’ve been winging so much,”

“Hey, you’re allowed to winge, especially when your idiot boyfriend gets you stuck freezing to death in the middle of nowhere,” he squeezed your hand reassuringly, “but maybe he can make it up to you when you get back to the cabin?”

“How?”

“I’m thinking we get the fire going and sit as close to it as we can until we’re warm. I can make us some hot chocolate and then maybe we whip up a curry for dinner? Something really hot.”

You chucked and nodded, “Sounds good. Can I make one request?” “What is it?” “Can we cuddle? While we’re in front of the fire?”

“The cuddling was implied. It’s the most romantic thing I can think of so of course we’re cuddling.”

“You’re not an idiot Ben. And walking in the rain is kind of romantic, especially when there’s a fire to go back to.”

Ben pulled your hand up to his lips, kissing the back of it as you walked.

By the time you got back to the cabin you were damp through, though your shoes felt completely soaked. Ben was true to his word though, peeling off his jacket and bending over the fireplace as he told you to go and get changed. You dug out clean, dry clothes, throwing Ben’s hoodie over the top. You grabbed all the blankets you could and came out to a fire coming to life as Ben hurried off to change. While he was gone you dropped the blankets on the floor, a little back from the fireplace, creating a sort of nest for the two of you.

“You stole my hoodie,” Ben pouted.

“Can’t blame me, it’s so warm and soft and I look cute in it,”

He chucked as he took his place beside you, wrapping his arms around you, “all of that is very true.”

For a while you just sat together, letting the feeling come back to your fingers and toes. Ben asked to see the photos you’d taken, pointing out scenery he thought would make nice artwork, and especially anything you could hang on the walls at home.

“I hope your sketchbook didn’t get too wet”

“I don’t think the rain got into the bags too much. What about your guitar?”

“It should be fine, it’s been in worse weather. Sorry I was short with you before,” he said quietly, his nose bumping your cheek.

You turned your head towards him, “It’s alright. I’m sorry too.”

He kissed you softly, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek.

You sighed against his lips and shifted to better face him, discouraging him from moving away.

Ben kissed you slowly and deeply, as if he intended to just keep kissing you all night. But gradually his hands began to wander too, fingertips lightly tracing patterns over your sides as they slipped further down. You hummed at the touch, mirroring him, trailing your fingers down his chest and stomach. Slowly, he inched the hem of the hoodie higher until he could pull it over your head. You didn’t mind, plenty warm from the fire and Ben’s embrace.

“This okay?” Ben asked between small kisses along the corner of your mouth, his fingers already tugging at your shirt.

“Mmhmm, very,”

He nodded and lifted your shirt over your head, keeping his arms up so you could do the same to him.

He didn’t rush, leisurely following the line of your throat with his lips, humming in response to your whimpers and mewls. You were already wet when he wriggled his hand under the band of your leggings, exacerbating your arousal as he stroked along your slit.

Once he had your pants off he rolled you onto your front, making sure you were comfortable amongst all the blankets, the heat of the fire washing over you. Gently, he hooking his fingers into the top of your underwear, pulling them down your legs, leaving soft kisses on your lower back and arse and thighs.

“Give me two seconds, babe,” he whispered, tugging his own pants off and leaning over to grab one of your backpacks.

“What’re you doing?” you asked, looking over your shoulder at the noise.

“Might have thrown a couple of condoms in here, just in case.”

“In case? In case of what?”

“I don’t know. In case the view made you super horny or we wandered into a fairy ring and ended up kidnapped by pervert fairies. Just, y’know, in case.”

“You’re so stupid,” you laughed, tapping him with your foot as you lay down again, your arms folded under your head.

“I was just preparing for any eventuality.”

“Mmm well, you might want to hurry up and prepare or else I’m gonna fall asleep here. It’s very comfortable,”

“Don’t do that, hang on,” You heard Ben tear at the wrapper and then swear and then tear it again as you laughed into your arms.

“Alright, ready. You still awake,”

“Surprisingly, yes,”

“Good,” his voice was close to your ear as he lay over you, cocooning you in his warmth as he entered you from behind.

You moaned into your arm as he slowly rocked into you, his chest against your back as he braced himself on arms either side of you. There wasn’t much scope for anything fast or hard but it was intimate, his cock pressed against your g-spot so that every slight shift of his hips sent a jolt of pleasure through you.

Ben kissed your shoulder and left his lips there as he mumbled, “feel good?”

“Mmhmm, fucking incredible,”

“Mmm, you feel incredible too.”

You pushed your self up and looked around for Ben. Within seconds he was kissing you again, tongue dragging over your lips as another jolt shot though you and you gasped.

For a while you stayed like that, your movements lazy and slow. But it wasn’t enough to push you over the edge, even with Ben groaning in your ear or sucking at your pulse point.

“I need more Ben,”

“Alright, babe, if I pull out are you good to roll over?”

You nodded, catching him in another kiss to show your appreciation.

Once you were on your back, leaning on your forearms, Ben adjusted his position, his legs falling between yours as he lined himself up once more. He wasn’t much deeper but the angle was different and you felt Ben hit a spot he hadn’t reached before as he leaned over you and attached his lips to your neck again.

“Fuck, Ben,” The fire was still burning, heating your opposite side as you threw your arm around Ben, digging your nails into his back as he gave an experimental thrust.

“This better?” “Yeah. You make me feel so good,”

Ben smiled and lay you back further, so he didn’t have to hold himself up with his arms, instead allowing him to slide one hand between you to softly play with your clit.

You grasped at his back as his hips snapped against yours harder, his fingers constantly rubbing at your clit.

“C’mon, babe, you’re close aren’t you.”

You nodded again, feeling as if you’d lost the ability to form words as your back arched. Everything was warm and comfortable – the fire and the blankets and Ben’s low voice, mumbling encouragement between kisses – and before you fully comprehended it was happening, your orgasm washed over you, pulling Ben’s name from your throat. He mirrored you a few seconds later, groaning your name as he stilled, his forehead falling to meet yours.

Carefully he rolled off you and you shuffled around to lean your head on his chest, still mostly tucked up in your blanket nest.

It was quiet for a moment as you both settled, your breathing falling into sync as you watched the fire and listened to the rain that had only gotten heavier while you were wrapped up in each other.

Suddenly Ben spoke, his tone more than a little braggy, “How’s that for romantic.”

#my writing #my blurbs #smut blurb #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy smut #ben hardy imagine #cant believe you made me yearn so fucking much #but here we are #guess those canada goose pics really fucked us all up huh #ohladymoon #blurb advent 2020

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valaks · 3 years

Note

Hey Valaks! I love your blog and your writing!

Please could you do 1, 10 and 18 for the writing asks?? 🌺

Thank you for the ask! I have added a cut to hopefully not be that person clogging up the feed XD

1. Tell us about your current project(s) – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

I have a few collabs outstanding like Gemini and a Kabir/Alex sequel to Reunion (It’s rated T at the most so still kid friendly) with Lupin and Devil Went Down to Georgia with Galimau. My utter love for both of my collab partners for pulling me through at a time when I’ve been really struggling. I have a WIPs List but I’ll confess to not having touched most of them in quite sometime (partly from life, partly because I’m not sure how interesting they’d be to anyone else other than me which influences my writing more than I would like to admit):

Good Intentions: Smithers never thought he’d be anyone’s moral compass, he was no angel to sit in anyone’s shoulder but trying to keep Alex Rider from following in the ruthless footsteps of his father or worse his former handler, Alan Blunt is as close to hell as he can imagine. (Wherein Alex becomes head of MI6 we watch his morality slip away form the eyes of an increasingly frustrated and heartbroken Smithers - it all culminates when Alex uses a child “just as an informant, simple information gathering” but hidden behind the charming smile of John Rider and the brutal coldness of Alan Blunt’s words is Alex Rider dying as he says them (Smithers just hopes there’s still a part of the boy he once knew in there to mourn)

Walk the Line: Alex thought he was done with SCORPIA. But they kept creeping back into his life in the most unexpected of ways. He thought he could at least count on it being on the other side until he gets teamed up with Walker, his former classmate and current CIA spy. Unfortunately he still hasn’t been able to figure out whose side Walker is really on - attempted deep cover op like his dad, repatriated rogue spy back on the “good” side, or SCORPIA double agent? He doesn’t know but at least he’s nice....in that obnoxious American way.

Temperamental: (Sequel to Sentimental which isn’t all that popular and you would need to read it for the sequel but basically amnesiac Yassen whose memories stop pre John’s betrayal set during the Stormbreaker mission and features him trying to come to grips with the use of chemical weapons against children and how to handle Alex once he snaps back to reality which is where this starts) Yassen had promised Alex Rider that he would be safe from the world of spying but fate had other ideas. In the days after Sarov’s failed plan, Yassen scrambles to find where MI6 have hidden his wayward charge without drawing Rothman’s attention. A request from one of their existing clients to look into suspicious activity at his son’s former school prompts Yassen to investigate under the guise of offering security. He should have known where there was trouble there would be Alex.

10. How would you describe your writing process?

Lordy do I ever not have a good answer for this. Typically it involves an idea hitting me and then the determination: would this idea work better as a short to post on tumblr (because the set up would take away the tension or would require a multi chapter which is not really my strength), as a prompt to lob out into the ether for someone better and brighter to touch on, or a fic. Once fic is decided I determine whose perspective the fic would be the most interesting from either because it would create the most tension or their internal monologue/background knowledge would add the most to it. Then the summary is written and a title is chosen. If it’s something I’m really passionate about and I already have it in my head I tend to write it all in one go, if there’s more I need to chew on then it’s a series of dates with the Evil Writing App. The final determination is whether it’s good enough for Valaks or if it gets sent to an alt account.

18. Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations?) Tell us about them.

Allegedly. I’ll try to go in order of posting -

Ruthless has a sequel where Alex just goes *quiet* once the initial dust as settled it’s unnerving to everyone because they’re not used to having to wonder just what Alex is thinking, at least not behind closed doors but what happened isn’t exactly something that can be recovered from easily, not when Alex isn’t sure who all’s in on it no matter what they’ve told him. Failure is the AU where I considered what would happen to Alex to make him want to torture.

Alibi was originally going to have Yassen show up in the end but I found it far more fascinating if MI6 was just testing Alex so out went Yassen and in went Ben. The sequel to it was torn apart and turned into Warm Reception because I wanted to trope flip SCORPIA comes to Brooklands and decided that it was more logical to have a small fight in Mrs. Bedfordshire’s lobby than anywhere else and I wanted to explore some side characters instead of Ben.

Providence’s sequel thoughts ended up inspiring Gentleman’s Agreement but I did write a small short for it “Yassen and Alex encounter each other on mission. Surprisingly they are working to mostly the same goal - Yassen needs to kill the millionaire who Alex needs to get information from. “I suppose I could answer some questions for you, Sasha. /In Russian/“ “Is now really the time for a language lesson?” he ground out in frustration but the man pointedly ignored him “/Fine but I don’t know some of the words/“ “/Then there is no better way to learn/“

I mentioned the Sentimental sequel but changing Sarov to come first and probable for almost a month before Yassen figures out he’s missing made the most sense. It was also a bit of fun at the Yassen would absolutely take Alex away from MI6....just to throw him in a school and throw away the key. Almost had him send him to Point Blanc but decided that wouldn’t quite fit all that well and wouldn’t be as interesting as if Alex had already gotten his feet back under him with MI6 and now sees that Yassen was right that MI6 would just use him until he’s dead but that doesn’t mean Alex wants to be anywhere near Yassen. Julia Rothman might have other ideas when she finds out what her newest second in command is hiding.

Gentleman’s Agreement.....there’s a lot of thoughts on Sequels and AUs, a lot of them have been written by better people, but that fic was written in 45 minutes so there wasn’t much time to recharacterize or change scenes. It did get Turncoat aka the Alex saves Yassen fic I wanted so badly.

Blood Brothers is a fic I really worked hard on considering how John would feel about his son being thrown into SCORPIA assuming Alex was of age. A rocky marriage was characterization that didn’t quite fit what I imagined would have happened but did fit the story so it stayed in. It was a fic that was supposed to get expanded on - the competition between Hunter and Yassen and Nile and Alex who is desperate to beat his Dad and his “apprentice”. I think two teenagers thrown against each other with a bit of a bone to pick, especially Yassen and Alex who can both hold a grudge even if one runs hot and the other runs cold, would have been compelling and a little fun but the premise and specifically John’s characterization doesn’t quite work out to me.

Found and Legends both have their plotting done but it’ll never see the light of day

Little Moments and Sweetest Thing were my guilty pleasure writing pieces for a while and I have about 1000 DMs of scenes for both of them that are lost to the sands of time and an embarrassing amount of self indulgence

Mates has a follow up ending for those who needed resolution in the comments of it. I’m not sure I did a good job of showing that Tom was in a semi abusive relationship since a lot of people seemed to blame him for him and Alex’s breakup. Most of my headcanons for how their relationship goes have them splitting much sooner just because of Tom’s own home life and either being unable to relate/talk to Alex and drifting away because his Mom throwing a plate at his head isn’t being hung over crocodiles but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt or because Alex is just too dangerous/jumpy to be thrown back into a school environment and lashes out even unintentionally especially not under the pressure of being seen as a failure. School is also a barometer of just how much he’s lost of himself and his childhood, bonus points for Alex being completely upfront with Tom about everything he’s done

In My Sights has an AU where this is all post Christmas at Gunpoint and Yassen is there because he knows Ian is already at Sayle’s factory and will have to be...handled. So two weeks of just getting Alex trained for the protection he might need, connecting him to resources, etc. Ian finding out that Yassen had been there was part of a draft at one point which was included Alex wondering about an all too sincere goodbye from Ian “who never hugged him” but I can’t find the snippet anymore ;__;

A Warm Reception was an alternate version. Originally I wanted it to be Alex watching his last chance at normality slip from his fingers and then the crushing realization that it was something that was his own doing, not even MI6 but Skoda who he had picked a fight with and the accompanying breakdown but then decided that Mrs. Bedfordshire was the right way to go upon writing the summary. Because everyone loves some Outsider POV

Adopted was supposed to be a one chapter throw away trope flip of K Unit adopts Alex. I kept it pretty consistent with Amitai and Lil Lupin’s K Units, tried to add in some more characterization just in how they treated some of the details. It has an alt ending/chapter where they find out Alex is Cub when they pull him from Three’s tender mercies almost by accident. I was persuaded into light humored fluff via guilt trip.

The Truth and Other Deadly Weapons has Ben acting exactly like he think he would in front of everyone but my AU was that this interaction happened in the field and absolutely shattered Ben’s trust in him partly because he had worked for the other side and partly because even if it ‘wasn’t as bad as it looks’ it showed a severe lack of judgment. It also featured several chapters of Alex running into the glass ceiling that is having “Member Malogosto Class of 2004” on your resume. Was going to feature Alex running into Walker as well and into problems within MI6 and the CIA but that was eventually cut and it was kept to one chapter.

Guardian....Guardian holds a very special place in my heart. I was given the prompt of a Monster Fic and I wrote what I knew but the interesting parts were all the ones that come after the story but might come across to a general audience as Hogwarts School of Prayers and Miracles. The plotting done post this was going to feature baby Angel Alex reuniting with his parents but...they were strangers to him and so he stayed with Yassen more and more, followed him, learned from him....it encompassed everything from the dynamics of broken families to reflections on theology and references from the Good Book....which is why it’ll never see the fandom but has a very special place in my heart.

In another, more perfect world Glocking Around the Christmas Tree is the Die hard fic this fandom deserves but as Lupin and I untangled the plot of the movie more and more we just couldn’t make it into anything that would be coherent on paper so it was changed and changed and is now a half finished sad abomination that sits on my works list only because Lupin would kill me if I took it down.

Hot Shot was supposed to feature my current favorite character that is not Nile Abara, John Crawley but I wimped out and changed it at the end because I swore I would write the Crawley fic that we all need. Hear me out: John Crawley knew and worked with John and Ian Rider, was respected by both of them, was recruited by SCORPIA within one year in the field, is the Chief of Staff of MI6, the man who “no one gets a knife in the back without him signing off” and is also the man who walks his dog to check on Alex. There’s a mentorship waiting to happen there, preferably in a nice work study program during college where Alex finally gets to see the repercussions of his missions and Crawley helps try and pull him back from the black mark that SCORPIA would have put on him.

My personal fluffy favorite is the spinoff of Devil Went Down to Georgia where Joe Byrne did pull Alex out post Skeleton Key and brought him home. There’s a pretty extended one about where Tom ends up after Mates. There’s also an actual sequel but ask me no questions and all.

Skipping a few collabs and Febuwhump fics but Burning Questions was just supposed to be Branded - a fic where upon being captured by Razim he is brought in and forcibly branded to differentiate the appearances of Alex and Julius (since Razim has decided to have him killed after shooting the Secretary of State). As a result of the pain levels spiking when Alex actually sees that the SCORPIA logo is branded onto his cheek Razim considers that emotional pain might be something to investigate. There’s a couple thousand words on it, one day I might polish it up.

First Impressions is supposed to be a mirror verse of Alex working for MI6 which includes Three as Blunt, Rothman as Jones and of course Sagitta as K Unit while he’s up against his father as Yassen and Yassen as Crawley. But it was cut down significantly even if the ideas are pretty fun to consider.

Sorry this was probably more than you bargained for but it was fun to get everything out there so thank you for asking

#alex rider #alex rider fanfiction #Im so sorry #I just have a lot

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