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bongo-clash · 2 years

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If I had a nickel for every billionaire that tried to kidnap me, I’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice

DP/DC week prompt: Mistaken Identity

'Look, in Bruce Wayne’s defence, he has a lot of children with black hair and blue eyes, and he’d had a very long day. But in Danny’s defence, he has no idea what’s happening right now and, according to his previous experience in being kidnapped by billionaires, his reaction is incredibly reasonable.'

(No content warnings || fic under cut!!)

Danny’s been in Gotham for about a week with his family, and so far it’s honestly been one of their most relaxing vacations to date. Sure, the drive had been long and finding a place to park the RV had been unsurprisingly difficult, but once the initial getting-there-fanfare was over with, everything had been great. The whole ‘not my circus, not my monkeys’ thing had been amazing for his anxiety. The famous Batman was more than capable of dealing with his peanut gallery without some random dead kid intercepting.

Okay, he was a little bit worried about Batman’s ‘no metas’ thing, but there was no good reason the vigilante would find out that little tidbit. It’s not like he’s even a meta in the first place! Being dead is a medical condition. Regardless, he’s doing the sensible thing and not making a show of himself; he may have flown over the top of the city invisibly on the first night to get some good shots to send to his friends, but no one needed to know about that but Sam and her gothic-architecture-inspo wall.

The hotel they’re staying at has good breakfast, the buildings in the inner city look cool as Hell, they already have heroes dealing with their issues so Danny doesn’t have to do anything, and there’s no ghosts barging into his room but the constant chaos of the city still feels homey. Overall, a ten out of ten vacation spot.

Surely, nothing can go wrong.

“Tim? What are you doing here?”

He’s taking a morning walk away from the hotel after he and Jazz successfully convinced their parents he would be fine on his own, and he’d stopped in front of Wayne Enterprises because Tucker would be frankly offended if he didn’t. He ignores the call at first, because he doesn’t know anyone named Tim, and it’s not his business, but that’s clearly shown to be a mistake when the call comes again but closer, and then again, but with a man putting his hand on Danny’s shoulder. He’s turns around to tell whoever it is to clear off when he actually catches sight of the guy’s face.

Sleek black hair, sky-blue eyes, a healthy tan and a very expensive suit. That’s Bruce Wayne. Bruce Wayne as in the guy who owns the building in front of them. Bruce Wayne as in the multi-billionaire.

Okay, don’t get him wrong, Bruce Wayne does some pretty honourable charity work, and his tech is pretty cool and Tucker’s obsessed with it, but Danny has a very sour history with billionaires and even before he’d met Vlad he wasn’t a fan of them; being friends with Sam for long enough does that to a guy. Dealing with the fruitloop had only cemented what he already knew, and that’s that you shouldn’t trust people that rich as far as you can throw them (or, maybe just not at all, since he figures he could actually throw them pretty damn far, considering the ghost powers).

Plus, Bruce ‘Brucie’ Wayne has this really weird habit of acting like a ditz, and quite frankly, Danny doesn’t buy it. He’s been successfully running a huge company and heading welfare campaigns for years, and if he’s truly as air-headed as he presents himself to be Vlad would’ve snatched up his company and his wealth in a heartbeat. Vlad, who is the other billionaire he knows, who is also pretending to be something he’s not with the whole ‘gentle hermit’ vibe he maintains with the press. No, there’s definitely something weird about Bruce Wayne and he hadn’t particularly wanted to meet the guy to find out what it is.

However, it’s looking like he doesn’t have much choice, what with the man having a hand on his shoulder and being about ten inches from his face. “Uh.” He blurts eloquently. “Hi?”

“Tim,” He repeats, frowning. “Why are you here? I told you to take the day off- don’t tell me you were just planning on sneaking off to work anyway.”

Danny’s certain Tucker mentioned some co-CEO of Wayne Enterprises called Tim, and he’s fairly certain Tucker mentioned he was the same age as them and also Bruce’s ward, but do they really look similar? No one’s ever said they do to his face, and he thought that was the kind of thing people talked about- the whole ‘who’s your celebrity lookalike’. So why-?

…Tucker also mentioned that almost all of Bruce Wayne’s wards have the same black hair and blue eyes. He’d even joked how Danny ‘fit the bill’. Oh no. What if this is an obsession-with-having-a-son-just-like-him thing? Do all billionaires do that or is that just Vlad? He could really do with someone else to compare the guy to that isn’t the fruitloop right now- it’d be really great to have some kind of gauge amongst general average billionaire behaviour so that he actually knew what to do.

Staying quiet to gather his thoughts was apparently not his greatest move, though, because the man’s frown only deepens. Bruce Wayne’s hand moves from the top of his shoulder to his arm, giving it a light squeeze that seems like it’s supposed to be comforting but really just makes him more nervous. “I’m taking you back to the manor. You were supposed to take a day off and I really think relaxing would do you some good.”

Now, there are a lot of things Danny could do to absolve this situation, and the smartest of all of them would be to inform him that there’s been a misunderstanding and that he’s just some random tourist who’d been wanting to take some pictures.

“I— what- can’t you just leave me here? Don’t you need to go in there?” Is what he says instead, because fight, flight, or freeze apparently includes brain freeze too. His mom was right, he never should’ve been allowed out unsupervised. Why didn’t he bring Jazz with him?

“The meeting can wait, you’re more important.” The man soothes, and suddenly the hand on his arm is pulling him away, leading him over to an incredibly expensive car and Danny’s so bewildered by the whole situation he doesn’t even fight back. He stands there, limp, as Bruce Wayne opens the car doors, nudges him inside, starts the engine, and drives further and further away from Danny’s hotel.

They’ve been driving for about twenty minutes before his stupor finally breaks, and by then they’ve fully left the bustle of the inner city and entered the sparsely populated realm of high society estates— Bristol, he thinks it was called? Doesn’t matter. He needs to get out and he needed to be out yesterday; he can’t believe he ever thought he could have a remotely sensible vacation. Let your guard down one time and you get kidnapped by a man with more money than everyone else in the state combined (though, to be fair, that sounds more normal given his circumstances than it should. Still, the billionaire being Bruce Wayne isn’t normal).

Now, there are a lot of things Danny could do to absolve this situation, and the smartest of all of them would be tell Bruce Wayne that he’d been too shocked to refute the man, but he wasn’t actually his son, and had finally gathered his bearings to say so and was very sorry for causing him undue stress.

Instead, Danny jumps out of a moving car.

Distantly registering the yell of alarm and the screech of the vehicle pulling to a sudden stop, he tanks the roll and springs back up again, taking in his surroundings for all of a second before sprinting in the opposite direction of wherever they’d been going. Bruce Wayne is definitely chasing after him- he can hear the heavy footfalls pounding behind him- but Danny’s been running from his problems for years. There’s no way he’s letting them catch up to him now.

He rounds a corner and disappears into thin air, because Batman’s not a day time hero so what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him and surely he’d get that Danny was only doing it for the sake of his personal safety. I mean, who’s he to say that Bruce Wayne doesn’t layer on his fortunes with the occasional ransom situation? …Maybe not the best excuse he’s ever come up with, but the damage is done now, and he drifts away for a few more minutes until he figures he’s far enough from his initial launch point that he can drop the invisibility.

Looking around, he can tell that he’s definitely lost, his surroundings still reeking of big money and the actual meat of the city barely hanging on the horizon. Well, technically he’s not that lost, given that he can still see inner-Gotham from here, but he doesn’t know where the Hell his hotel is in all that grey, and the walk looks far. While he was willing to risk the momentary power-usage to get himself out of the billionaire’s sights, he figures that trying anything else would be pushing his luck a bit further than it was willing to take him.

He must’ve been thinking about it for a lot longer than he realised, though, because he hears a quiet thud behind him, and there is now a vigilante blocking his exit. Long-ish black hair, an admonishing expression, and a black and blue outfit with a bird decal.

That’s one of the Bats. NIghtwing, he thinks?

Aren’t they all supposed to be nighttime vigilantes?

As if hearing his questions, the taller man tuts, bringing his hands to his hips like his mom does when he breaks curfew. He hasn’t got out the electric-stick-things that he’s pretty sure the guy owns, so that’s good. “Tim,” He starts, tone starkly disappointed, and- hold on, why is Nightwing on a first name basis with the Wayne Enterprises CEO? “I thought B told you to take today off.”

Hold on, that’s a weird thing for a vigilante to know about the Wayne Enterprises CEO, and- Danny’s assuming B means Bruce Wayne- why is he using such a casual nickname for the billionaire? Do they know each other? He supposes it makes sense if they’re all in cahoots, since the Bats’ stuff does seem pretty expensive-looking, but he’d honestly kind of assumed Batman was just some rich reclusive vampire or something. Like Vlad but morally-reversed.

Unless Batman is still a billionaire and not just funded by Bruce Wayne. Nightwing knowing the Tim guy would make sense, then, given they might see each other at rich people things. But, actually, would that make sense? Vigilante socialites don’t usually go around telling their other socialite friends that they’re vigilantes, do they?

Unless Batman is Bruce Wayne. But that’s ridiculous. He’d figured the guy was hiding something, and the hoard of children is kind of indicative of a weird guy generally, but the man being some kind of edgy bat-themed hero in his spare time was just too ridiculous. There’s no way.

…

…Holy shit. Batman is totally Bruce Wayne.

That means that Nightwing is probably one of Bruce Wayne’s many sons, which means that he’s one of Tim Drake-Wayne’s many brothers, which means Bruce Wayne may have called him to chase him down and bring him back to the manor. Even though they shouldn’t be doing that because he isn’t Tim Drake.

Now, there are a lot of things Danny could do to absolve this situation, and the smartest of all of them would be tell Nightwing that by some hilarious comedy-of-errors, Bruce Wayne had mistaken him for his son Tim the CEO when he is in fact Danny Fenton the tourist, and he’s very sorry for the fuss he’s caused, but he should probably call his sister to pick him up now, thank you very much.

Instead, Danny feints left and tries to dash out the corner he’d trapped himself in from Nightwing’s other side. Nightwing grabs him like a small dog with one arm and raises a grappling hook to the nearest roof. Danny feels like this is probably karma for all the property damage he’s caused in Amity as they’re flung violently across roofs higher than his town’s tallest apartment complex. He is quickly discovering that being airborne is actually so much worse when you’re not the one in control.

He doesn’t have an awful lot of time to ponder this, however, because they reach what Danny assumes is the Wayne residence soon after. Nightwing does an absolutely terrifying set of flips as they careen over to the other side of the ledge the mansion is on, and lets him go when they’re on the ground to put a finger against his hear, presumably to some communication device.

“I’ve got him, B! We’re outside the Batcave now- yep, all safe- see you in a sec!”

…They’re outside the what now?

Nightwing slings an arm over his shoulder- some mix of friendliness and making sure he doesn’t run away- and leads him into a concealed entrance against the ledge just beneath the Wayne mansion.

He has to be hallucinating at this point. There are actual bats in here. The whole place is scary and dark and gigantic and—is that a fucking dinosaur?

“Tim!”

And, as if just to cement how utterly absurd today has been, Bruce Wayne is striding towards them with an expression contorted by worry, and he feels bad right up until the moment the guy cups his face with his calloused hands (calloused because he’s Batman, what the Hell). “Tim, I was so worried,” He croaks. “What happened back there? Why did you jump out the car?”

Now, there are a lot of things Danny could do to absolve this situation, and finally, finally, he-

“What the Hell is happening right now.” He blurts, taking a sharp step back and letting the hand fall from his face, watching as surprise falls over the men next to him like an overcast.

Okay, maybe not the the smartest thing he could’ve said, but not the worst thing either, and that’s probably the biggest win he’s going to get today, so he’ll take it. “What are you talking about?” Nightwing asks gently, reminding him rather neatly that he is still in an absolutely gigantic pile of shit, seeing as he’s now going to have to explain that they have all made some very big mistakes today.

“Uh, okay, so funny story- and you have to promise not to like, beat the shit out of me or whatever-“ He ignores the horrified faces they make at that, nervousness leaking out into a hysterical laugh. “But, uh, a very bad thing has happened, and— it’s like, fine! I won’t tell anyone if you won’t tell anyone, it’s totally chill and I’m really great at keeping secrets-!”

Bruce Wayne cuts him off, looking terribly concerned. “Tim, whatever’s going on, we’ll-“

“I’m not Tim!”

The moment the words are out of his mouth, he backs away with his hands raised placatingly, panic heightened by the way the two men freeze in their tracks. “I am so sorry,” Danny chokes, figuring he can’t dig himself into any deeper of a grave than he already has. “I was just- I was outside Wayne Enterprises to take pictures and when you came up to me I had no idea what to do so I just froze, and by the time I came to I was in your car and like, I was kind of scared you were kidnapping me? Because I kind of have a history with billionaires and kidnapping so I just panicked and jumped out the car but that made everything worse ‘cause you chased me and now I’m in the Batcave and you’re Batman and-“

There is a very long pause when Danny’s words fail him. The Batcave is very quiet beyond the chittering of bats on the ceiling.

“You have a history with billionaires and kidnapping?” Nightwing asks, like literally nothing else he’d said registered.

Quite frankly, Danny does not want to know what their expressions are like. Averting his eyes, he replies- “That was definitely a weird thing for me to say. Sorry. Uh, yeah.”

“Are you safe?”

What is happening? “Like… right now? I mean, so long as you aren’t gonna feed me to that dinosaur then yeah; I’m just in Gotham for vacation. I don’t- it was a very nice vacation. Until like half an hour ago. Now it’s a stressful vacation.”

Bruce Wayne, to his credit, is not trying to kill him for his knowledge of the man’s secret vigilantism, which already makes him better than the only other billionaire he knows. The man drags a hand down his face, looking stressed beyond belief. “I should’ve known you weren’t Tim,” He breathes. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Yeah, now that I’m actually hearing you talk, you sound nothing like him. Bruce, were you actually listening when he was talking to you before you shoved him in the car? This guy’s midwestern. What happened to world’s greatest detective, B?” Nightwing snorts and, wow, they’re not taking this half as badly as he thought they would. And, hey, now that he’s thinking about it, these are the first actual vigilantes he’s ever met outside of himself and Valerie, and wouldn’t it be a waste not to ask them for pointers?

Maybe it’s not the best idea in the world, but he already knows their secret identities and they’re being chill about it, so maybe they’ll be chill with his, too. Screw it, he’s doing it.

“Again, I promise I won’t tell anyone- I’m, ah, pretty good with secrets like this.” They turn to look at him curiously there, and he tries to talk past the lump in his throat. “I’m kind of, um, also a vigilante as well? Funny coincidence, right? Small town gig, though, nothing like Gotham! And I’ve only been on the scene a few years, so… I don’t know what I’m asking, here. Any good pointers?”

Nightwing looks thoughtful. “Does this have anything to do with the billionaire you mentioned?” He asks.

“It very much has a lot to do with the billionaire. If Vlad Masters ever asks you for anything- I dunno, punch him? He’s got a really punchable face, you’d know if you met him. It’s all creepy and shit.”

Nightwing continues asking questions as Bruce Wayne’s head remains firmly buried in his hands, and sure, maybe letting this well-established team of heroes know about his less-than-legal and more-than-ectoplasmic hobbies might come back to bite him, but right now he can’t help basking in the fact that he gets to bad-mouth Vlad to someone who Vlad will probably care about his reputation with. Everything else comes second.

“-Hang on, you said you’ve been a vigilante for a few years, right? How old are you?”

Okay, almost everything comes second. Both men are looking at him now with something that’s probably-definitely concern and is getting worse the longer he neglects to answer, and Danny is very suddenly reminded once again that the majority of Bruce’s children fit the same appearance-criteria as he does.

He’s just doubled his own problem, hasn’t he? It’s not just one anymore-he’s going to have to deal with two billionaires now.

He’s never going on vacation again.

#dp/dc week 2022 #It turns out Tim Did actually sneak out to work on his day off #But he fell asleep at his desk so he didn't answer any of Bruce's calls #And now Danny's fending off threats of adoption with a stick #Tim and Danny aren't even twins or anything. They have literally Nothing to do with each other Danny's just a lookalike with horrible luck #If there's any mistakes please just ignore them I read it over once and I just wanted to get it out into the world #Exciting news tho!! I'm posting another thing for the peacock au for tomorrow's prompt :)#dpxdc #Bongo's Writing!!!

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fuckinthewholetown · 2 months

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Fallingforyou - Matty Healy Chapter One

I’m kind of shitting myself posting this but, it is what it is. If you think it’s shit, feel free to tell me, but please be nice or I will cry. I’ve also only skimmed over this so if there’s any typos, please tell me so I can fix this.

Tags: Slight angst, swearing, mentions of religion, gay, probably bad writing

Word Count: 2309

As much as you love touring, you’re the first person to admit it can get repetitive. Wake up in a random hotel room, get to the venue, sound check, perform, and repeat.

However, today is different. Today you’re performing a sold out show at Wembley Stadium to 90,000 people. This is the day you’ve dreamt about since you were five, giving one woman performances to your parents in your living room. And the cherry on top is you get to do it with four of your best mates.

Your day starts off as normal, doing your skincare routine in a hotel bathroom in the heart of London. You’re living the dream. That is until you hear a knock at your door. As you’re walking over to answer it, you pull your hair out of the makeshift pony tail it was in previously. Before you could fully open the door, it barges open and your guitarist and best friend Maddie O’Connell storms into the room.

“We need to talk.” She says, pacing back and forth.

“Ok, calm down. There’s absolutely no reason to be this stressed. Take a crystal.” You say, pulling some green agate out of your bra. You’re met with no response, just a deadpan stare. “Noted, not in a crystals mood. What’s up, this is the best day of our careers, it must be something big to get you this stressed.”

“You have to look me in the eye and promise that you’re not going to freak out” She says, sitting down on a seat in the corner of the room.

“I promise. Unless you’re shagging Matty Healy or Harry Styles, then I revoke that promise”

“Not exactly… It’s Ross” She says, refusing to look you in the eye. You stay silent, internally freaking out but refusing to break the promise you made to her. She takes this as you not understanding what she’s on about “Ross Macdonald… The bassist of the”

“Yes, I know who you’re on about!” You say, cutting her off before she can say anything else and send you into even more of a mental breakdown. You stand up, now it’s your turn to pace the room. “You’re fucking the bassist of my favourite band and you just conveniently don’t tell me until 5 hours before the biggest show of our careers? I love you to death, but you need to get better timing babes”

“I know,” she says, still refusing to make eye contact with you, “and we’re not fucking. Well, we are but it’s more than that. I like him, and I think he likes me.”

“How long?”

“Six months…”

“Six months!” This information is enough to stop you in your tracks, “you’ve been shagging the human equivalent of Jesus for 6 months and you forgot to mention it!”

“I’m sorry! I knew you’d freak out because you’re a big fan and I wanted to make sure it was serious before I got your hopes up. However, I’ve kinda been forced into telling you.”

You sit back down, confused over her last statement. “What do you mean forced into telling me? If one of the girls is secretly a bitch and forcing you into this, we can become a group of four. I’m a big boy, I can sing and play an instrument at the same time.” That half joke is enough to make her finally make eye contact with you.

“It’s nothing like that, the girls don’t know yet you’re the first person I told. I’ve been forced into telling you because they’re coming tonight, all four of them are watching the show.” And that statement is the straw that broke the camels back, you’re officially freaking out.

“What? They’re watching us tonight? All four of them are watching us? Oh god, I have to look Matty Healy in the eyes knowing I’ve read the dirtiest tumblr fanfiction about him. I read one of him as a priest, oh god I’m going to hell!” You say, putting your head into your hands. Maddie on the other hand does not see the seriousness of this situation and bursts out laughing.

“Him as a priest? Didn’t strike you as the religious type.” A chuckle escapes your lips as you finally return the eye contact.

“I went to an all girls catholic school actually, I love Jesus.”

“You came out of that school with minor alcoholism and even more gay than you were when you went in, I think Jesus would be disappointed.” She quips back. You laugh, standing back up from your slight mental breakdown.

“I’m happy for you, I really am. When are they getting here?”

“Just before sound check.”

“Before sound check?” You respond, falling back into your mental breakdown. “That’s in less than an hour. I’m meeting my celebrity crush and your new fuck buddy in less than an hour? Get the fuck out, I need to do a full face in 20 minutes!”

You all but push her out the hotel room, scrambling to get ready for the biggest moment of your life.

After somehow managing to do your hair, makeup, and put on a hot ass outfit in under an hour, you walked into the green room at Wembley Stadium. What met your eyes was what could best be described as a sight out of 16 year olds you’s wet dream. All four members of The 1975 sat around the table, gossiping about who knows what. As you walk in, the room goes silent. Luckily, your bandmates are there to quell the awkwardness. The pianist of your band, Sienna Turner is the first to speak.

“Boys,” She says, standing up and dragging you by the forearm into the circle, “this is Y/N!” You were expecting to be met with blank stares, but instead the boys jump up to greet you, tackling you into bear hugs. It’s a warm welcome off everyone. Well, mostly everyone. The man you’ve loved since you were a teenager stays sat in the corner of the room, closed off and refusing to even acknowledge your existence. You figure it’s probably just him being an introvert, so you go over to introduce yourself personally.

“Hey.” You say, hoping for any kind of response. You don’t get one. No acknowledgement, no hey back, not even a snarky comment, he just ignores you. This is not how you imagined this day would go.

“Damn,” you follow up, “I knew you’re an Aries, but I didn’t think you’d act so much like one.” You let out a slight chuckle. He, on the other hand, does not find this so funny.

“Good God.” He responds, rolling his eyes and taking another sip of his drink.

He hates you. The man you’ve been enamored by for almost 10 years despises you. The only possible explanation is he’s seen your private TikTok reposts of endless thirst traps of himself. Nevertheless, you had a show to do. And if there’s on thing you can do despite external feelings, it’s fucking shit up on stage. You nail sound check, sounding better than you ever have. Probably a mix of adrenaline and frustration over the fact that your childhood crush seemingly hates you for absolutely no reason.

You exit stage after sound check, immediately going back to the green room to get ready for the actual show. As you’re getting your makeup and hair done, conversation flows. You and your friends are talking to the boys as if you’ve been friends for years and you didn’t just meet them an hour ago.

“So, Y/N. You’re into like crystals and shit aren’t you? What’s that like, I don’t really get it.” George says, turning all eyes on you.

“It’s not for everyone, but I find comfort in manifestation and things like that. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think incense will cure cancer but keeping rose quartz in my bra definitely isn’t going to hinder my love life.” You laugh, trying to keep your response brief.

“Bullshit.” Comes from the corner of the room. The first words you’ve heard from Matty since your brief conversation earlier in the day. The room falls silent and you feel a red hue cover your face. The longer the silence, the thicker the tension in the air. You clear your throat, trying to restrain yourself from going over to him and giving him a black eye.

“Like I said, it isn’t for everyone. I was cleansing my room once and my mum thought I was smoking weed. When I told her what I was doing, I think she’d have preferred if I was doing drugs.” Everyone starts laughing and the room erupts into conversation again as if nothing happened. Every so often, you catch a glimpse of Matty in the corner of your eye. He never seems to move, his phone in one hand and a beer in the other. As you zone out of the conversation, your mind moves to deciphering why on Earth he could hate you so much. Nothing comes to mind, you’ve never met him before and you’ve definitely said nothing bad about him publically. Quite the opposite in fact, as last year a drunk video of you singing Robbers went viral on TikTok.

You zoned out for so long, before you knew it it was time to go on stage and perform the biggest show of your life.

“Ok girlies!” Ava Fletcher, the drummer in your band and also the member you’ve known the longest, speaks up. “This is it. No pressure but there’s 90 thousand people out there who’ve come specifically to watch us, so if we put on a shit performance our careers are probably over. But absolutely no pressure, just have a good show.” You laugh, leaning into the group hug you do before every show however this one felt different. The sense of adrenaline and fear within the group was unlike anything before. There was a lot riding on this show, and if you fucked it up a lot of people would be disappointed. However, all of these feelings are washed away when you’re wrapped into a hug by George.

“Blow their fucking minds out their.” He whispers into your ear. All feelings of nervousness are washed away when you realise you’re being hugged by the drummer of your favourite band. You go around, being given motivational speeches by every member of the band. Well, almost every member other than, you guessed it, Matty. He encouraged every member of your band except you, walking off before you could get to him.

The beginning of every show is always the worst. Hearing the roaring crowds increases your heart rate tenfold, but the stakes are even higher for this show. With one last group hug, you put your in ears in and run on stage, ready to start the show. As the show goes on, you occasionally glance side of stage to where the boys are standing. Everytime you make eye contact with them, they give you an encouraging smile or thumbs up. Matty on the other hand continues to evade eye contact, choosing to watch a different member of the band. However that didn’t stop you from putting on one hell of a show, and that’s what you did. You blew the metaphorical roof of that stadium, it was arguably the best show you ever did. The adrenaline high you had once you ran off stage couldn’t be ruined, even by a moody former celebrity crush.

The moment you exit stage, you’re immediately crushed by a massive group hug involving your band and the boys. Despite all of this, the only thing you can focus on is the hand around your waist. It’s Matty. You don’t think he meant it, instinctively putting it there when he was dragged into the hug. Nonetheless the area he was holding felt like it was burning under his touch, his calloused hands leaving marks on the skin underneath them. The group hug is cut short when he pulls away, clearing his throat slightly and going back to cradling his drink.

You do the rounds, talking to everyone backstage and discussing the nuances of the show and how amazing the audience were. This repetitive conversation continues until you get back around to him. You expect to be met with no eye contact, maybe an eye roll if you were lucky, but what happens next surprises you.

“You did alright out there, Princess.” The confusion on your face is palpable, at both the nickname and his sudden talkative nature. “Princess, like Princess Kida from The Lost City of Atlantis. It’s funny because,” you cut him off.

“Our band name is Lost Atlantis, yeah I get it. It’s funny.” You respond, a dead pan expression on your face. The tension was obvious, you could cut it with a knife. That is until Moon Dixon, your bassist, comes up behind you and wraps you in a hug.

“We’re all going back to Maddie's place to have a few drinks, you joining us?” She says, mostly to you but including Matty in the conversation as well.

“Yeah, let me get into something less sweaty and gross first though.” You laugh, trying to hide your disappointment as he walks off to join the rest of his band.

Get over yourself, you thought to yourself as you walked back up to your dressing room. Just because Mattys a dick doesn’t take away from the fact that this is the best day of your life. You just performed your biggest show ever, and three out of the four members are lovely. But despite this, you can’t get the curly haired man out of your mind. You see him every time you blink. How have you gone from badass pop girlie to pathetic simp in the space of three hours?

Chapter Two

#matty healy #ross macdonald #george daniel #adam hann #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfiction #Matty Healy fanfic #matty healy x reader

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dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice · 3 months

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The Grim Reaper's Guide to Breaking Every Rule of the Universe /// Chapter 2

Bruh. My back is HURTING from being hunched over my laptop lol. For some reason I've managed to shit out this next chapter at the speed of light, but I'm back at uni and deadlines are picking up so I can't guarantee another one for a couple weeks. ANYWAY - ALASTOR HAS FINALLY MADE AN APPEARANCE. Not in person yet, but he's here (in spirit). I also apologise to anyone not from Yorkshire, I've used some of our slang from there and it may not make sense, but MC's embracing her Northener crave for violence.

Summary: When touring America for the sake of it, you go to stay with your aunt in New Orleans for a while, taking up a peaceful part-time job restoring objects. But a few weeks in, a package arrives containing an old radio that's seen better days, along with a note seemingly written by someone who thinks they could fist-fight the Devil.

What you didn't know, was the hell of a path that was now set out in front of you. Not fist-fighting the Devil, but instead a very smug radio host who would have no problem spending the rest of his days driving you up the walls.

But two could play that game.

Tags: Demiromantic-Asexual Alastor x Demiromantic-Asexual OC/Reader - 1920s/30s New Orleans - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Violence (It's Alastor what else)

Word Count: 6800

Warnings: Period-typical sexism, Period-typical attitudes towards neurodivergency, Swearing, Descriptions of murder and dismemberment. MC'S RACE IS DEFINED DUE TO PLOT REASONS (also because she is based off my OC)

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

< Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 >

PART 1: Chapter 2

Another box for my trinkets it's trinketville.

Meraki (Definition): To put something of yourself into your work. (Noun)

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Thursday, 7th November, 1929.

The first four months of your new apprenticeship had you thriving more than ever before since arriving in the US. The last time you had felt this joyous and satisfied you were nearly eighteen, the tickle of the long grass on your cheeks as you laid in the meadow at the height of spring, holding the bunch of wildflowers against the kaleidoscopic swirls of the evening tones of the sky above you, admiring the way the lowering sun hit the petals and the small bugs that floated around with its golden highlights. It was one of the few times you had managed to bring your racing mind to a stand-still; no voices; no random lines of songs in your head playing on replay; no worries about the chores you were procrastinating or the book your friend had recommended weeks ago that you were yet to touch. You remembered the feeling of the summer dress you wore, the texture of the leather messenger bag beside you gifted by the old woman who lived further down the lane of the village. She used to babysit you when your parents would travel to York days at a time for work or personal errands. You loved to skip down that lane, with your hand running along the rough stones of the ancient stone walls that lined the lanes of your little village you had spent your whole life in – also lining your mind with the cuts it gave you as you tried to climb over them with the twins over the years.

The routine of working at the repair shop had brought the blissful feeling of stability back, the hectic frenzy of travelling from hotel room to hotel room, checking your tickets a thousand times to make sure you were on the correct train platform, then checking again. You no longer had to worry about travel dates that would leave you feeling paralysed from doing anything else.

Mr LeBlanc had been an excellent teacher and manager, drilling skills into your mind since you stepped into the shop for your starter shift. It was certainly an experience: opening the double doors to a vintage collector’s dream, an antique emporium filled from floor to ceiling (and on the ceiling). Ralph had brought you behind the counter, to a room in the back that he gleefully revealed to be concealed by a door disguised as a bookshelf. The workshop hidden behind was every antique restorer’s sanctuary, and it was certainly yours. Drawers lining the walls filled with every tool that could file, chip away, or apply anything you could find. In the centre was a large wooden table – thick, sturdy planks covered in chips and splatters of paint and adhesives used over the years. This table would be the place you would spend the next four months, your hair tied back by a patterned silk bandana, Ralph showing you how to work with materials from wood to porcelain, metal to textiles. You would pour over books you had pulled from Mr LeBlanc’s bookshelves until late into the evening, until he sent you home with them in your bag, and you protected them with your life as you returned on the trams (or ‘streetcars’, as Americans called them) in the evening light.

Every Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, he taught you everything he could, and you absorbed it all at the speed of light, your mind soaking up every piece of information like a dry sponge. By month three you had been given the go ahead to work on your first object from a customer – a small, spindly regency era chamber table belonging to a local gentleman. All it needed was some chips to be filled and repolishing, allowing Ralph to be confident enough in your abilities to complete it correctly. Your results came out on top, both Ralph and the customer being satisfied with your work, and you received the praise gleefully, along with the hefty tip the gentleman handed you over the counter. To you, everything was going fine and dandy.

Until October hit.

Apparently there were plenty of warning signs, according to most. They knew this was coming, your aunt knew this was coming. It was what she had said when you sat with her on the steps of the front porch.

“Shops are going to start disappearing.” She said, keeping her gaze ahead as she watched the cars sputter by. “With the rate this is going, I’m going to have to pull the boys out of school and get them working – I can’t keep the walls of this house up by myself.”

It had sent chills down your spine when you had picked up a newspaper, the words ‘Wall Street’ and ‘Stock Market Crash’ staining the pages for weeks. You put your mind and body into helping Mr LeBlanc, desperate for him to keep his business up and running. Unfortunately, as prices dropped, less people wanted to splurge the extra cash on something nice and antique, so you both lowered prices where you could, even going to lengths to hammer fliers to every street-post that advertised restoration jobs for any household item, promising customers that they would save money on repairs instead of buying it new.

It worked more than you thought, and it brought in enough income for Ralph to scratch by. He was also grateful you hadn’t asked for a raise to cope with the financial crisis, flat-out refusing when he had tried to hand you some tips he had received.

It was just the beginning of December when Ralph had called the house phone as you were getting ready for work. Ollie had yelled up the stairs to tell you and you scrambled down in your work trousers with your nightgown still on. Grabbing the phone, you listened to a raspy Mr LeBlanc as he told you he had falling ill with the usual winter flu. Unfortunately, being 63 meant that he was more susceptible to the illness, and was unsure if he would recover. If he did, it would still take a while, so he had asked you that morning if you were capable of running the shop solo. You had instantly said yes, refusing to let any sidetrack be his business’s downfall, so, with your head held high, you walked to his house, picking up any essential documents that he said you would need, and kept the shop up and running to the best of your abilities.

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Friday, 6th December, 1929.

It was the Friday of the first week of December when you were an hour away from closing. You had been lucky that it had been pretty quiet the last few days, allowing you to settle into working your first ever Monday to Friday and getting to know the everyday things that were essential to keep the doors open. You had brought an armchair behind the counter – the gap between the counter and the wall was spacey enough for you to fit the chair and a small side table.

After not seeing any customers for over an hour, you had wandered off to the small side kitchen hidden by a Persian rug hung over the doorway to fetch yourself a warm cup of tea and a slice of carrot cake that Agnes had slipped into your lunch bag that day. Returning to the front, you placed the food and beverage on the side table, and sank into the chair, propping your feet up and delving into the book you had bought a few months ago.

Your eyes were drooping by the time you finished the tea and cake, and you rested your head on the back of the cushion, lowering your eyelids shut but remaining awake, knowing you had to get up soon in order to close in a half hour. Though the sudden sound of the shop’s bell chiming had you shooting out of your seat like a cat on a hot tin roof.

Scrambling to your feet, you scooted over to plop yourself on the counter stool, fixing yourself to look as presentable as possible as you faced the person entering. It was the mailman, stomping his boots to rid of the snow from the mild blizzard outside on the shoe rug by the door whilst holding a semi-large parcel under his arm. You recognised him from his rounds of the area, normally dropping off the odd parcel here and there for Ralph. Making sure the curls you had pressed into your hair overnight weren’t flattened at the back, you straightened out the silk scarf tied round the front of your head, flicking a curl out of your eye, and faced the man with a warm smile, to which he returned. He was a tall, young looking lad, older than you, but youth still shone in his eager eyes as he approached you.

“Afternoon ma’am,” he greeted, tipping his snow patterned hat. “I apologise for the snow on the floor, m’fraid the storm doesn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon.”

You waved him off, assuring that you were going to be cleaning up soon anyway. He inquired about Mr LeBlanc’s whereabouts, and you explained that his illness wasn’t letting up any time soon.

“Shame,” he said. “I know you’re probably not getting overrun, but it still must be complicated being a young woman running someone else’s business – especially near Christmas, having to trek home in the cold and wet by yourself.”

“Oh, it’s quite alright.” You laughed with a shake of your head, trying to not let your frustration show at the thought of him doubting your skills because of your gender. “He’s given me everything I need, and I can deal with the weather just fine. Wet and cold is the norm where I’m from.” Changing the subject, you gestured to the half-damp parcel still under his arm. “Is that addressed to Ralph or the shop?”

As if suddenly remembering the reason he was here, he quickly hauled the parcel from under his arm and slid it onto the counter.

“It’s for the shop.” He explained, gesturing a gloved hand to it. “S’pose it’s a last minute repair for a Christmas gift or somethin’.”

Placing your hands on either side, you slid the large square box towards you. Standing up from the stool, you peered at the top. Brushing off the half-melted snow, you read the handwriting that ornately spelled out the address - this was probably another repair.

The parcel itself was probably the neatest you had ever seen anything wrapped. The parcel paper was thick and expensive, the water and snow running off without leaving any trace behind except for a slight sheen, and the edges were folded so crisp and perfectly shaped and flat you wondered if whoever had wrapped it was human. Tied round like a present was a thick twine, looping into a bow directly in the middle of the top. You admired the dedication of whoever had put in the time to wrap this, running your fingers over the corners only to jerk them back slightly as the folds were so sharp they felt like they were slicing at your skin.

Looking back at the mailman, you thanked him for the delivery, and hoped him safe travels back home. Tipping his hat at you, he turned away with a farewell, and the bell chimed again when he opened the door, dipping his head against the wind as he faded into the white wall outside.

When the howling wind finally allowed the door to shut, you began the closing routine, knowing that there wouldn’t be anyone else today with the severity of the weather outside. After locking the exits and pulling the shutters closed and the blinds down, you kept the shops lanterns on as you lifted the hefty parcel with a grunt and shuffled through the hidden doorway into the workshop.

Sliding it onto the table, you got to work opening it up, pulling the twine bow free and taking some small hand-held shears to slice open the glued down folds to reveal a cardboard box.

Pulling the thick brown paper and twine out from underneath, you chucked them onto the other workbench pushed against the wall to the right. Placing the shears down, you pushed your fingernails between the gap of the serrated cardboard and swung the flaps open. Inside was a lot of loose cotton wool, and you reached in, removing the protective layer and chucking it onto the table whilst simultaneously thanking whoever had spent their time padding the box out. This uncovered a semi-large shape swaddled in a maroon-coloured knitted blanket, and you reached your arms in deep to wrap around the object and haul it out.

Laying it on the table, you pushed the box and wool out of the way, and gently began unwrapping the blanket, mindful that some repair jobs may start out with several shattered pieces that you certainly didn’t want to accidentally drop an lose amongst everything. Coming to the final layer, your nails slotted through some of the holes of the knitting and clacked against what sounded like solid wood, and slipping the material off, you had your first look at your new potential project.

It was an old radio. Well, not that old, considering radios had only been in circulation for a decade or so, but it was one of the earlier models, the features you recognised from when you visited the county Mayor’s house when you were in your early teens. It was shaped with a resemblance to a cathedral arch, the wood panelling around the edge looking like pillars that began swirling and spiralling into gothic patterns the closer you got to the top. These patterns decorating the fine grated material that covered the speaker, and a few dials were situated on the bottom half, and you immediately noticed one was missing.

Pulling a stool over, you sat down to get a closer look, and you noted down the damages that came to light. It had obviously been looked after over the years, but, as always, people are prone to accidents, and this radio seemed to have gone through a few. Apart from the dial that was missing, there was a large split down one side, between two of the panels, and scratches and slight dents from where it had obviously been dropped. Grabbing your notebook, you jotted down your initial observations, before diving your hands into the left over cotton in the box to search for anything that could assist you.

To your luck, you found a small linen bag about the size of your palm, that you untied to reveal the missing dial and a few pieces of wood that had come off in some areas. Returning to your notes, you were just about to start a proposal form for treatment when something caught your eye. Looking over to the blanket you had put to the side, your eyes landed on a fancy looking envelope.

Reaching over, your fingers clasped around the paper, the material just as thick and expensive feeling as the parcel wrap, and you brought it towards you, careful not to elbow anything in the process, because if they could afford fancy radios and paper during this crisis, then they certainly were expecting you to repair this with equally expensive standards. Holding the paper up you read the loopy handwriting on the front of the envelope:

To the Owner.

Turning it over, you pried the even fancier wax seal apart as gently as you could as to not ruin the paper, and opening the flap, you reached in to slide out a folded piece of parchment. Unfolding it, you began to read the matching, loopy words.

---

December 4 th, 1929

Dear Owner,

I do hope this package finds you well. I am delivering this fine radio to be repaired at your establishment, as it belongs to my dear Mother and I would be overjoyed to have it completed in time for Christmas. Unfortunately, it has suffered its fair share of drops and bumps, but from what I have heard from others in our beloved city, you should be able to do an excellent job. The outside is obvious with what needs to be done, but there are areas within the interior mechanics that require some repairs. Now, I would take it to the radio shop, but the man who owns it is oh-so unpleasant, and would take weeks to be returned.

I am sure you would be happy to take on this challenge, for my mother’s sake, and that you will do a splendid job.

Regards,

Mr A. Boudreaux

---

You blinked. Then furrowing your brows, you read it again. And again. Did this guy want you to not only fix up the look of his mum’s radio, but magically know the ins and outs of radio technology? You shook your head, then did a quick once-over of the words scrawled onto the page. Yep, he wanted you to do a Frankenstein and completely resurrect the old thing.

Placing you elbow on the table, you rested your chin on your palm as you stared at the wall covered in tool across the room. There was no way you could do this, not without Mr LeBlanc still ill – though even if he was here, you didn’t know if he had any knowledge on radios. Sighing, you rubbed at your face tiredly, not caring if you smudged the mascara on your lashes, it wasn’t like anyone was going to walk in on you with panda eyes anyway. Letting out a prolonged groan, you came to the final decision of what to do.

Trudging back into the shop, you quickly made yourself another cup of tea, before snatching some of the letter paper and an envelope from under the counter. Slumping back onto the stool in the workshop, you placed the paper in front of you whilst reaching into one of the drawers attached to the table to grab a pen, then, taking a moment to think of what you were going to say, you began writing.

---

December 6 th, 1929

Dear Mr Boudreaux,

Thank you for your enquiry. As much asI would love to fulfil your request, there are some issues regarding certain stages of the repairs. Mr LeBlanc, who owns the company, has taken ill this last week, and it is not yet known when he will recover, and I am the only member of staff he has employed at the moment. Unfortunately, I am not experienced in radio mechanics, and strongly advise that you come and collect the radio and take it to be repaired at a radio shop.

The radio can be returned here for outer repairs, but I am afraid that is the only option I can offer you at this time. The radio will be ready for you to collect from 9am on Monday morning. I do apologise for the inconvenience.

Regards,

---

Signing the first letter of your name, along with you surname, you read over what you had written. Satisfied, you sealed it in the envelope and got to work wrapping the radio back up. Quickly taking a candle, you took a peek in between the crack in the wood, the light shining on the innards. You definitely had no chance of fixing that, if the absolute mess of dislodged coils, wires and metal pieces inside said anything. Reluctantly you placed it back in its box wrapped up and padded with the cotton, before taping it up and re-glueing the parcel paper and twine back in place. It was a shame that you had to reject the request, the payment for the repair would have benefited you and Ralph quite a bit, and it made you feel awfully guilty to prevent someone’s gift for their mother, but it was out of your control. So, with the guilt hanging over your head, you pushed the parcel into the corner under one of the tables on sale.

Doing one last round of the shop, you extinguished the candles dotted around and flipped the light switches off except the main one by the door. With your coat and gloves on, you made sure the scarf was wrapped tight round your neck before grabbing your bag and did one last sweep of the place. Glancing in the corner, you took one last lingering look at the sorrowful parcel that sat under the table, but quickly snatched your eyes away, and grabbing the keys, you flipped the final light switch and stepped out into the cold, looking for the nearest post-box with the letter grasped in your hand.

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

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Monday, 9th December, 1929.

Monday came rolling round as usual, and you began your usual weekday routine of washing and dressing yourself before heading downstairs for breakfast. Scooping some scrambled eggs onto the toast on your plate, you trudged from the kitchen to the dining room, the slap of your bare feet on the tiles echoing through the wide hallway.

Shuffling through the doorway, you sat opposite Ollie, who, by the looks of it, was still waking up as he shovelled buttered toast into his mouth with his head still lying sideways on the table. Reaching over, you slapped the handle of your fork against his ear that stuck out from between his loose, dark curls, and he let out a whine as he sat up to face you with one eye glued shut, the other barely open, bread hanging from between his frown.

“You’ll choke eating like that.” You said as you scooped egg into your mouth.

Ollie dropped the toast from his mouth onto his plate. “Good.” He mumbled. “S’better than Miss Sammie droning on and ooonnnn about nonsense.” He flopped his head back on the table.

“Well enjoy it while you can.” You snorted. “If this crash gets any worse Mum will be pulling you both out to find jobs. And I know you two wouldn’t last a day in the workplace.”

He jerked his head back, scrunching his face in offence. “Like you would be any better.”

You deadpanned. “I’m currently working 9 -5, Monday to Friday, dumbass.” You jabbed back in annoyance, throwing a piece of crust at his forehead.

“Shit, forgot about that.” He grumbled, but perked up suddenly. “Yea, but you’ve only been working full time since last week!”

You chucked another crust. “Running a shop full time on my own – something I’ve never done before??”

“Still.” He retorted, shrugging his shoulders.

You had opened your mouth to retort, but stopped halfway as Allie’s voice echoed through from the kitchen.

“There’s been another one!” he called out, almost excitedly, the thumping of his feet vibrating through the floorboards as he practically sprinted into the room with the morning newspaper grasped firmly in his hands. The two of us jerked back as he slammed it onto the table.

“Amuver!?” cried Ollie, voice muffled by food, though he quickly swallowed it. All evidence of his tiredness now gone, he snatched up the paper and brought it right up to his face. “It’s barely been a week!”

“I know!” Allie replied, his voice rising in volume every time he spoke. “At this point it could end up happening every month!”

You looked between the two of them confused since you couldn’t see what Ollie was reading. “What could happen?” you asked, perplexed.

The two of them froze, turning to stare at you. Their eyes darted to each other, before Ollie lowered the newspaper and spoke.

“…The murders?” He revealed, as if it was the most obvious thing.

You blinked, then looked between the two, more confused. “What murders?”

“What!?” Allie cried, bracing his hands on the table as he leant over it, eyes wide. “You’ve been gallivanting round town for seven months and don’t know about thee murders??”

You leant back slightly at the sight of your cousin’s crazy expression, and slowly shook your head. “I’m uh – not one to read the newspaper often.” You explained sheepishly.

He gaped, clearly shocked at your lack of knowledge about the subject. His head whipped to where his brother sat, and his hand reached out and snatched the newspaper from Ollie’s. You quickly moved your breakfast out of the way, saving your food from being flattened as Allie slammed the paper down and began aggressively prodding at the headline on the front page. Swatting his hand away, you read the giant words printed above a photograph of a lake you didn’t recognise.

‘BARRISTER FOUND BUTCHERED ON EMBANKMENT’

Suddenly intrigued, brought the paper closer to read the front column.

Tragedy strikes again in New Orleans as the remains of county barrister, Paul Morgan, were found on the embankment and in the water of Lake Cataouatche by visitors to the area. Morgan was reported missing last Wednesday by his wife, Martha, when he failed to return home for two days after a night out on Monday with his colleagues. It was reported that Morgan’s body was dismembered, and his head took several hours to locate. However, certain body parts are still missing, therefore the lake has been closed off to the public for the foreseeable future. Police are calling in and searching for potential suspects, and give their condolences to Paul’s close family and friends, stating that they are working overtime to bring the killer to justice and prevent any further deaths. Due to the nature and severity of the crime, it is possible that this is another victim of who the public dubs ‘The Bayou Butcher’. The Sheriff strongly encourages people to stick to an early curfew and remain indoors after nightfall, as the safety of the public cannot be guaranteed at this trying time. (More on Page 5)

You went to flip through, but the paper was pulled out your hands by Ollie who wanted to read it.

“You know what I’m thinking?” Allie hissed excitedly as he lowered himself onto the chair at the head of the table between you both. “This could be another Axeman!”

Ollie gasped, eyes sparkling. “Shit, it could!”

You perked up. “Another Axeman? How long has this guy been around?” you asked as you brought your breakfast back in front of you.

Allie turned to you, eyes shining in excitement. “The first body was found in 1927 – and the rest have been popping up every 2-3 months, but this is the first time there’s been two in less than two weeks!”

You narrowed your eyes in thought. “How do you know it’s all one guy?”

At this question he seemed to get more excited, practically vibrating in his seat as he gestured to his twin. “Ollie and I have been collecting newspaper clippings on every murder that’s happened, and we’ve tried to eliminate any outliers – like, different weapons, ones that are bleedin’ obvious who did it – the rest all have the same MO: they never find the whole body.” He yammered on at light speed, emphasising each word with a loud thump of his finger prodding the table. “Sometimes it’s not obvious, I think they try to throw the police off by going for something small – like a finger – but there’s always something missing, and we know it’s them.”

You frowned. “Them?”

He shrugged. “Could be a woman.” You raised an eyebrow. “What!? I don’t discriminate! Women can be scary!” You slowly sat back in your seat, staring your cousin down. He pointed at you as he looked at his brother with wide eyes. “See!? You wouldn’t be surprised if she dragged a body in?”

Ollie swallowed the food he was chewing. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she caused the second Great Fire of London because someone stole her food.” He said nonchalantly, before casually returning to his toast.

“Exactly!” cried Allie. “No wonder the government wants you all nice and buttoned up in a strait jacket!”

Dropping your fork with a clatter, you looked up at him in shock, mouth hanging open. He froze, quickly realising what he had said, and his face slowly scrunched up as he cringed.

“Too far?” he squeaked meekly as he glanced at you. “Sorry.”

Pouting, you glared silently before picking your fork back up.

A few moments of silence passed, before Ollie decided he had experienced enough of the dampened mood. “You know,” he began, catching your attention again. “We think the body parts aren’t just missing for the sake of it.”

“Oh?” you tilted your head, intrigued again.

He looked you directly in the eye. “We think they’re eating them.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Oo yummy, like a cannibal?” you queried, eyes darting to Allie, who perked back up, nodding. “So… there’s a cannibalistic serial killer running around New Orleans?”

Allie pointed a finger. “Serial killer, yes. Cannibal, possibly. We don’t actually have any proper evidence for that. I’m also going to skip the ‘yummy’ part, cuz I know you would never willingly consume human flesh.”

“You would be correct,” you confirmed with an amused smile, before glancing at the two. “Has mum ever suggested that you two should consider joining the police force?”

All you got were two matching cheshire grins in response.

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

After cleaning up your food, and disappointing the twins because no, you didn’t bring your serial killer books to America with you, because you didn’t want to be judged by the luggage inspectors on the ferry, besides, Jack the Ripper got a little boring after a while.

Even though it was interesting to learn about the current events of the city you were staying in, the subject of said current events did end up putting you on edge when you travelled to work that morning, with you clutching your bag a little tighter, and intensely staring down anyone who looked at you a little odd on the tram. It even got to the point where you had stepped off the tram, and spent the ten minute walk between there and the shop glancing down any alleyways as subtle as you could, even though you knew you would spot anyone against the white snow that reflected the morning sun into your poor, suffering eyes anyway.

Unlocking the shop doors, you stepped in, stomping the snow off of your boots on the mat before picking it up and shaking it off outside. Crossing the threshold of the room, you ducked under the rug into the kitchen, shrugging off your scarf and coat and hanging them up on the pegs.

You were just dusting off the old grandfather clock that was slotted between the shelves of smaller antique clocks when a knock echoed through the shop. Jumping slightly, you lowered the feather duster in your hand and looked over your shoulder to see the same mailman from Friday waving at you through the window in the door, his smile growing as you made eye contact with him . Placing the duster down, you quickly strode over to the door, twisting the locks before pulling it open and sticking you head through the gap.

“I do apologise Miss,” he began after you said hello. “I hate to interrupt you whilst your still getting ready to open, but my boss handed some priority mail to me – said I had to get it to you as soon as I could.” He held a letter out in front of you.

Frowning, confused, you slowly reached out and took the letter from his hands. “Okayyy…” Turning the letter around you came across some very familiar hand writing:

‘To Mr LeBlanc’s Employee.’

“Oh god.” You groaned quietly, your shoulders slumping. This could turn out to be quite nasty if this was going the way you thought it would.

The mailman glanced between the letter and your very prominent grimace. “Is everything alright?” he asked, concern shining in his eyes.

“Yea! Yea,” you breathed, glancing around the street with the dwindling hope that your client would show up to pick up his parcel, but the letter in your hand said otherwise. “Everything’s fine. Just some very small business issues.”

He glanced at your face again, and went to open his mouth, but hesitated, seemingly switching what he was going to say. “Well, uh, I hope everything goes well, ma’am. I’ll see you around?”

You nodded, still staring down the street. “Yea, sure. See you around.” You said distractedly. Quickly giving him a strained smile, you stepped back to close the door, and the man tipped his cap at you again before strolling away.

Walking over to the counter, you slumped onto the stool with a groan, chucking the letter down in front of you. Leaning your elbows on the surface, you rested your forehead against your palms as you glared at the words inked onto the paper. The way it was addressed to you already screamed passive-aggressive, and you hated confronting anything or anyone with a passion, and you certainly didn’t want to confront this Boudreaux guy because you denied his mum a Christmas present. With a loud whine, you slammed your head onto the counter before blindly patting the surface until you felt the thick paper and slowly dragged it towards you. Sitting back up, you held the seemingly innocent envelope in front of you, and stared at it for a couple more moments, before you couldn’t take it anymore and tore it open.

---

December 7 th, 1929

To the Employee of Mr LeBlanc,

I hope this letter has found you in post haste. I am deeply upset that you lack the skills of radio repair, after all it is a growing medium that most should be learning at this point. Therefore I have come to the conclusion that I will refuse your rejection. The fliers you put out stated very clearly that you could repair ANY object, and it would be very disappointing for people to hear that it no longer has that skill to offer, since the only other option for radio repair during these trying times is a very unpleasant experience with that owner I mentioned.

I do hope my Mother’s radio will be fixed on time, I do hate to disappoint her. If Mr LeBlanc does not recover within the period, or you have any queries about the repair, please call the number I have written below.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Best Wishes,

Mr A. Boudreaux

---

If your mouth hung open any further than you would be catching every insect that resided in the swamps surrounding the town.

Was this guy fucking for real??

You scoffed slightly. Then again. Eventually you scoffing spiralled into manic laughter as you guffawed at the audacity that this man thought he had. With wide eyes, you slammed the paper down back onto the counter, staring over at the wall because if you looked at those words any longer you would probably end up tracking this man down so you could shove his mother’s radio up his ass along with the fat metal rod that apparently already resided there.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed back the stool and stood up, deciding you needed you reset your mind before the first customers came in. Marching back to the kitchen, you spent the next five minutes sat in the middle of the floor, waiting for the kettle to boil as you very angrily stuffed the blueberry muffin you had brought in your mouth. You glanced at the clock and pouted as you realised you only had 15 minutes before you had to put on your best customer-friendly expression despite the metaphorical grey cloud that thundered above your head.

Thinking for a moment, you shot back up, chucking the muffin case as you strode back through to the counter, and snatched the letter up, marching back to the kitchen over to the rotary phone on the table in the corner. Picking up the handset, you pressed it to your ear as you spun the number written out on the paper in front of you.

It rang for a moment, and you tried to picture the man who would – hopefully – receive your call. You expected to hear the gruff voice of some 50 year old, that would start yelling down the line about how incompetent you were, especially when he found out you were a woman, before you heard a crackle as it was picked up and a polite and much younger sounding “Hello?” came through.

You froze for a moment, your vision of some rude, old guy whooshed away at the voice of a much younger, more spritely man, and you pictured someone like the mailman, until you heard a louder, drawn out “Hellooo?”, the man on the other end seemingly becoming amused at your lack of response.

Snapping yourself out of the character builder you had in your mind, you quickly spoke. “Hello, do I happen to be talking to–”

“Oh, I am sorry, my dear.” You blinked as you were interrupted. “But I do believe you’ve accidentally called an American number!” The man said chipperly, though there was a condescending undertone – his amusement clearly growing at the thought of your apparent mistake. You guessed it was when he heard your accent.

“I- what?” you stammered down the receiver.

“Oh you poor thing.” He simpered over the line like some fake grandma comforting you after you tripped over. He was clearly having fun – you could just picture the fake pout he was putting on. “Like I said, I’m afraid you have the wrong number.”

No, this was definitely the right one. His attitude over the phone matched his attitude in the letter precisely.

You could hear him being to move to put the phone down, and you quickly called out. “WAIT NO!!” you cried, on the verge of an outrage. “I definitely put the right number in! Now, am I or am I not speaking to a Mister Boudreaux?”

“Oh! Do pardon me.~” He practically sing-songed. Oh, so now he was willing to listen? “Yes that is I, and to who do I owe the pleasure to be called by an English dame such as yourself?” the fake flirtatious tone had you picturing the faceless man laid on his front, kicking his legs as he twirled the coil between his fingers. You pushed that amusing thought down, however, when you caught sight of the piece of paper in your hand.

“I got your letter.”

“Ah,” It was like a switch was flipped, the man’s tone darkening slightly. “I see.”

Rereading the words this guy had put down, you could barely control yourself, and you pictured the time your mother had marched you down the lane to the house of a boy in your school year. That boy had given you a large bruise on your forehead, and instead of telling you that he did it because he fancied you, your mum decided to give him and his family the verbal lashing of your life. ‘I’m not raising you to snap at the slightest pressure like those London lasses, my love’, she had said, ‘You’re gonna go down kicking and screaming like it’s the last thing you’ll do’.

And that’s exactly what you’re gonna do.

“Right,” you began, your Yorkshire accent coming on full force. “I’m gonna need you t’ open yer lug ole, lad, cuz I dunno how you lot do customer service over here in America, but bein’ passive aggressive t’ someone who’s literally done nowt to deserve the absolute shite you’ve just given me makes you out t’ be a right knob’ead, you hear me?” You reprimanded. “If you don’t get your arse down to the shop by the end of the week, I’m putting ya mum’s radio down as unclaimed and selling it t’ the next person I see!”

You quickly slammed the phone down, too fuming to hear anything that Mr Boudreaux had to say. The only reason you felt a little guilty was that you knew nothing about this guy’s mum – she could be the sweetest woman in the world, and you just up and went and threatened to sell her possession! Though, with the way her son behaved, you would be surprised if she turned out to be just like him. Ugh, then you would be dealing with two of them.

Letting out a sigh, you picked up the phone again, instead dialling the phone number pinned to the corkboard on the wall. It rang for longer this time, and when it picked up you received a very loud coughing fit. When it died down, you finally spoke.

“Ralph I need your help.” You groaned, plopping yourself down on the spindly chair next to you with a defeated sigh.

“I’ve got the worst customer in the world.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Does uh, anyone want more memes?

I hope you've enjoyed what I've given you so far, and I do apologise for the sudden dialect change, I was desperate for MC to finally speak the way I do lol. See you soon for Chapter 3!!

Please let me know if you want to be added to the Taglist!

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*feeds you content a lot earlier than I thought*

Taglist: @theredviolets @mybrainsautocorrect @all-user-error @belos-simp69 @boogiemansbitch @elio-ee @snowlotr @mistresslemonsuger @sugasweettea @jaygrl22 @mysterypotatoink @yunimimii @threefingeredpencil @mydeardelphi @glowinthedarkbones1150 @fluffismystaplefood @writer-girl99 @rl800 @the-unhinged-raccoon @riritvt

#alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor fanfic #alastor x you #alastor x oc

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jumpedthenfell-13 · 4 months

Text

im freaking out because tell me why i just came up with my favourite bispearl au ever

So I’m a massive fan of band aus right so I’m honestly surprised I went this long without making a Steven Universe band au

So, in the 90s a band called the Crystal Gems became popular. It was made up of Bismuth, Pearl, Garnet, and Rose. Bismuth, the drummer, had this massive crush on Pearl, who was the band’s guitarist at the time. Unfortunately, Pearl was in love with Rose, who was the lead singer, so nothing ever happened between them.

So, eventually, Bismuth had a few family issues to take care of in another state, and ended up just leaving the band. She moved in close to her parents, and, although she already missed being a part of the Crystal Gems, she got a job at IKEA and settled into her new home.

So, around sixteen years later, she goes to visit a friend that she met before she moved. Her friend says she’s going to a concert and Bismuth doesn’t really have a choice in whether she’s coming or not, and her friend also won’t tell her who they’re going to see.

So imagine her surprise when she sees Pearl and Garnet on stage with three other people she’s never met.

The show ends with a teenage boy, around fourteen, coming on stage and singing one final song, and, during that song, Pearl looks up. She and Bismuth stare at each other.

Pearl finds her excitedly after the show.

So later that night she goes with Pearl to the hotel room the group is staying in, and she meets the new band members.

Shortly after Bismuth left, the group found Amethyst. She’s a little younger than Pearl with her hair dyed purple, and she took over as the band’s drummer.

Lapis joined the group one random day when she met that teenage boy that sang, and she ended up becoming the lead guitarist and dying her hair a bright blue.

After that, Amethyst met Peridot, who joined the band and became a second guitarist, and was particularly close with Lapis.

The most upsetting news is about that teenage boy.

His name is Steven, and he’s apparently Rose’s son. According to Pearl, Rose passed during his birth, and she, Garnet, and Amethyst had helped his father, Greg, with raising him.

And then, Pearl gives her an offer she hadn’t been expecting at all.

Pearl says that she should join the band again.

Bismuth knows this isn’t a good idea. This is crazy! She’s got a life far away, one that doesn’t involve the band she used to be part of.

But maybe it’s because the idea is so crazy that she agrees without hesitation.

So she’s introduced at their next show. The crowd screams at the sight of her. Most are excited to see another new band member. Old fans are overjoyed to see her return after so long.

It’s insane. She knows she probably should have gone back to her old life with her job at IKEA and her small home.

But she finds that she likes this one a lot more.

#steven universe #steven universe au #bismuth #bismuth steven universe #bispearl #band au #steven universe band au #ONCE AGAIN THIS WASNT SUPPOSED TO BECOME A FANFIC

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signedkoko · 4 months

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Hihihihi! Can I get a parental/platonic parent matchup for hazbin hotel?

Im a cancer, around 14-15 years of age, and have short brown hair. I'm around 4'9-5'6 ft.

Around people I don't know I'm super nice and kind, usually complimenting my my way into a friendship with most people. I like to draw and read horror book, (I.E coraline, the man in the basement, dread end, etc).

I am mostly known around school as a kid who gives most of the time, buying goods for kids who can't at lunch, sitting with lonely kids, etc. I try my best to stay out of fights, and most times I don't initiate them.

At home, however, I can be loud and tired at the same time. I'll be like: "SO GUESS WHAT HAPPENED AT SC- I'm tired ima go nap" and I'm also the peacemaker of the family, being the youngest.

My fashion usually varies from vampire goth to grunge. I mostly wear vampire goth outside of home, but at school I wear grunge cuz if I wear vampire goth I'll get bullied.

Thats all! I'm sorry if I didn't provide enough info! Make sure to take care of yourself ♡

You got…Emily | Carmilla | Vox!

Your best friend is Emily! Ever since the two of you met, you've always gotten along. She really likes your drawings and tries to read what you read, but she finds them a bit scary and will usually depend on you summarizing things for her so she doesn't have to go through any of the gruesome parts. She is probably very scared and very intrigued with Coraline.

Emily agrees that you are one of the sweetest people she's ever met; she never feels judged around you and always gets her thirst for adventure quenched with all the media you show her. Your style is so cool to her, she might even ask if you can help her do some gothy vampire looks.

Expect quite serene days spent having fun without worry. Emily will always be there to defend you, and she probably has a billion questions to ask you at all times.

One figure who would take you in is Carmilla Carmine. She already has two daughters whom she adores deeply, and so she has a lot of experience with teens and teaches them all they need to know.

Your fashion probably just matches her looks, and she is more than happy to help you pick out a proper, well-rounded wardrobe that not only suits exactly what you like but also matches her a little bit. Lots of red and grayscale clothing.

Carmilla reads a lot, usually with a glass of red wine, and she makes certain to keep a section of her bookshelf for you, full of books she thinks you might like. She's the type to read all of them in advance, so when you finish, you can talk to her about them to your heart's desire.

Expect a protective but free household; you and her other daughters are held to her highest standard, and anything your heart wishes, she will do her best to achieve. You are always welcome to join the family business, too.

Another parental figure you may have is Vox! Vox never planned to have kids or take any in; no, he probably thinks he hates kids! But there's an exception for everything.

He probably sneaks you into the V's tower after finding you alone, and he's already committed to getting you cleaned up and warm because, man, what is this kid doing all alone in hell? He can't just—well, he can't just leave you out there, can he?

The more time you spend together, the more he considers you his daughter. You have your own room that he's always bringing things into. He's the type to just knock until you let him in and then give you some random thing he got you. Single slice of pizza, hot chocolate—hey, look how fast he can solve a Rubics cube. Wanna play with this new drone I'm prototyping? I found the book you wanted!

Oh yeah, the fridge is covered in your drawings. Even if they're digital, he has a little digital screen that has a slideshow of your work, and he does his best to show interest in any hobby you pick up.

If he ever hears you say you won't do something because you'd be bullied, he would probably hand you a taser and money to go indulge in what you like and zap the shit out of anyone who pokes fun at you.

He's not a very good parent in terms of morals, but he won't let anyone hurt you or shame you. He would get Velvette herself to help you find your style and would probably bar Valentino from ever EVER meeting you.

Expect a lot of movie nights together, trying all his new technology first, and getting every ounce of support. You'll never be alone, and you'll always be safe because, unless you ask him not to, he's always checking in on you.

Author’s Note - I actually could not pick, I had so many ideas!! So I went for one friend and two (separate) parental figures! I hope thats okay, I was literally ranting to my friends all night about the indeas I got lmaooo

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #helluva boss matchups #hazbin hotel matchups

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urfriendlylocalidiot · 1 year

Text

Since my prom is tonight :p

Also to make it less weird, the members are all like 16-18

blackpink x reader (high school au?)

Prom w/ Blackpink as your Date

Jisoo

Prom with Jisoo would be regal. You guys would definitely look and be the prince/ss and princess of the night. In the pictures you guys are even wearing crowns, at the insistence of one of your friends, since you guys literally look like royalty. You guys would definitely have pictures taken at a majestic place, and there would definitely be a limo, nothing but the best for you two.

Dinner would probably be at some fancy French restaurant nearby. There’s a little bickering over the bill, but you relent and let her pay. But don’t worry, you guys definitely buy ramen to eat after the whole event.

When you guys arrive at the venue, to say you turn heads is an understatement. Everyone’s eyes are on you. You both just look so magnificent, it takes breaths away. The pictures at prom though, are even better, in your opinion, goofier than the ones you took earlier. At the first slow song, Jisoo pulls you onto the dance floor. You guys are on the dance floor for the rest of the night. Until inevitably you guys leave to go to a chill party at one of your mutual’s house and eat the ramen that you bought earlier. It is the best night of both of your lives.

Jennie

Prom with Jennie would be relaxing somehow. You guys would probably wait and do an outfit reveal. And wow, are you glad you did, she looks amazing and so powerful. Little do you know, she thinks you look stunning, like she has to fight to keep her mouth closed because of how beautiful you look. Let’s just say the pictures came out amazing and the shock on your faces in the beginning is real.

Dinner would be one of your favorite restaurants. Probably the one from your first date, depending on how long you guys have been together. You guys would probably feed each other. The conversation would definitely be a look back at how far you guys have gone, and future plans career-wise.

You guys would probably drive there in a Cadillac, loaned to you from one of your parents. Not too much, but classy nonetheless. When you guys get to the venue, you guys go straight to the photo booth to take all the goofy photos and of course stolen kiss pictures that you can. You guys would end up getting separated, having to mingle with basically everyone. However, when your favorite songs come on, you meet up again on the dance floor. She will definitely dance with you on any and all the songs you want to.

Rosé

Prom with Rosé would be lyrical, like it came right out of a song. You guys would probably end up going in a group with some other couples in a limo. However, you guys are definitely the best dressed. The pictures are good, you guys manage to get some good ones, despite the place being in a random field.

Dinner would be at a nice restaurant, the conversation flows easily. The food is mid in your opinion, but that may have just been what you ordered. Rosé seems to really enjoy it. Inevitably someone in the group spills their drink and everyone gets involved in cleaning it up. You all have a good laugh about it later.

When you guys get to the venue, it’s nice. You guys take pictures in the photo booth and have a good time with everyone else. Of course you two dance to all the songs, and for all the slow songs, she would pull you close and sing the lyrics softly into your ear. You’d steal a few kisses while you two danced too.

After you guys get dropped off at your place though, the night is far from over for you two. You guys get into your convertible and drive to the nearest big city and 24 hour karaoke spot, belting all your favorite songs on the way, specifically, ‘Teenage Dream’ by Katy Perry. You end up retaking pictures on the roof of the car garage you park at, that overlooks the city’s twinkling lights. At the karaoke bar (and eventually hotel room that you guys end up staying at), you can’t help but think to yourself that this is what you really wanted, a nice night with your one and only. Rosé would definitely end up writing a song in the hotel room about this night after you fall asleep.

Lisa

Prom with Lisa would be chaotic but in the best way possible. You guys definitely get ready together. And will definitely end up looking drop-dead gorgeous anyways. In the pictures, you guys are intertwined in all of them, she just can’t keep her hands off of you. There are definitely more than a few pictures of you guys kissing… each other’s cheeks of course.

Dinner would wind up being at a local diner, since you guys both forgot to make a reservation, which was fine with you guys. The food was good and the company was even better. Lisa would definitely end up driving that night, a rented Rolls-Royce is the vehicle for the night. You guys roll down the windows and shout/sing the lyrics to every chorus that comes on.

When you get to the venue, let’s just say you better have good stamina. You guys are dancing to every single song of the night. At some point in the night, somebody tries to start a dance battle with Lisa, which she obviously wins. As your reward you give her a kiss and pull her away to the photo booth to take some pictures. As the night winds down, Lisa would drive you guys to a local hotel, and let’s just say you lose a little more than your clothes that night.

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fanfiction-artist-prototype · 1 year

Text

This is inspired by my mum watching lile a million and one movie24 Christmas movies and would like to preface I've never actually watched one all the way through, but I know the basics.

City girl, she's a romance author, goes back to her hometown for Christmas. She has not seen her parents or childhood community since she left at age 18, she's now 27 and is now Angie, not John.

Very nervous she stays in one of the local motels (that's the thing right? Like a tiny hotel on the side of a motorway/highway but they can be cheap inner city/town things just believe) and tried to find a way to get in contact with her parents, not expose herself to people she doesn't want to know the new her AND find inspiration for that Christmas getaway rom com her publisher JUST KNOWS will be her next best seller.

Being a purveyor of Hallmark movies she sees if there's a local Christmas project, it's ran by her parents she immediately strikes it off the list. The bakeries, her (embarrassing) childhood crush works there now, she's not looking to work through that so she strikes it off the list.

Animal shelter, Christmas fate, the local lumberjacks she tries every trope!

And then walks face first into the old grandpa who runs the blacksmiths. She doesn't know why the town still has one, she doesn't really know anyone that orders from him but apparently reanactors and museums do so he has work-

He's married though so not a meet cute. She used to spend her says at his forge trying to learn to "toughen up". He's her old best friends grandfather and treated her much the same. He was the first person to get her makeup and realise that oh, she wasn't trying to be a man she wasn't one.

She also hasn't seen him in years.

He recognises her almost instantly. On the street. A crowded street. He says her name, loudly. People are staring.

She ends up being his great niece by the end of the conversation. No one is any the wiser. She thinks.

Anyway, she visits him and he insists she takes her best friends old room, and wow its nice, it's fun and she's actually getting treated like a member of the family. Her new great aunt, who also recognises her somehow, immediately plays along and she ends up accidentally with a whole three pages of her work notebook being taken up with her new backstory.

As she continues to try and get inspiration she's pulled away from her work by her great aunt and uncle not intentionally mind you. They're just... existing.

(GU = great uncle // GA = great aunt)

She gets up to make a cup of tea and go back to writing and paused and waits until they've finished their slow dance in the kitchen, not wanting to disturb them. She walks in after helping her GU move some stuff about in the forge since the misses has atheritis and can't help much anymore, and bared witness to the utter adoration they share for each other as her GA starts chastising her GU for 'pulling her from her work, you'd think he'd understand how hard getting an ides right is.' She sees how when her parents come round to ask for their help in the festivities her GU looks his wife in the eyes and asks her to keep the spoons in the draws because he knows she wants to hit HER ma and pa if they don't recognise her (and she doesn't want them to, really she doesnt) but that's only going to make things worse. And how her GA bristles not for being told off preemptively but because her husband knows her too well.

She sees these two people so in love and just happy and every meet cute she writes in comparison is just tragically boring and lacklustre in comparison.

Her parents don't recognise her, it hurts but it's also for the best. At the Christmas light switch on - the last day of her trip before she heads off tomorrow as per the genres traditions- some random guy she kept bumping into at a coffee shop confeses he's missed her for the longest time, and he knows they haven't seen each other in years but would she just give him a chance to be friends again

It is the best friend.

Apparently Angie is not the only one to have a massive change. The friend had been under the impression they had in fact you know TOLD Angie- he had not. He hadn't realised by fate both he and Angie had changed their numbers at the same time so neither or their texts about their changes went through and both thought the other just didn't want to talk anymore.

His grandfather had been keeping him updated on the fact his best friend was back in town. The meetings in the coffee shop were him trying to reconnect thinking Angie really was ignoring him, hence the desperate last ditch attempt at the lights.

Angue obviously says yes, we can be friends again.

She goes back to her big city, new York, Chicago they're all the same in these movies and goes on to wrote a book about two grandparents falling in love with each other over and over again during the Christmas period.

The last shot of the film is Angie and her friend giggling childishly over a picture of his grandparents in reindeer antlers as the two lived together platonically or romantically in queer platonically nobody really knows. But they're happy.

#hallmark #christmas movie #prompt #idea

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the-arctic00 · 24 days

Text

My Experience with Psychosis

Earlier this year I had a psychotic break in which I traveled to Washington D.C. on a mission to either preach the gospel as a prophet or participate in spy training with the CIA.

I was under the impression that the poet Ellen Everett was a CIA plant and was leading me along a path towards becoming a CIA asset via her public posts and poetry. Not only this, but Ellen would be my wife, along with a host of other women who would operate as my spies a la Charlie's Angels.

This spy network of beautiful women was called The Empyrean, and consisted of a woman from my past representing the UK, another from my hometown, Ellen, representing the CIA, a woman representing Irish intelligence, another woman with the Irish, a woman representing Brazil, a woman representing Jews and Judaism, and a woman representing Mexico. In total, there were 8 women I was going to be in charge of as my spies.

Once I reached Washington D.C. I spent the time in my hotel room writing to Ellen through a whatsapp conversation with a scammer. This scammer took advantage of my condition and had me buy gift cards which I thought was a test by the CIA.

I also wrote to various celebrities, the President, and other random groups and people under the impression that Ellen was sending the messages to the right places.

After I ran out of money at the hotel, they kicked me out and I went to Target where I scared the person working there by ranting and raving. They directed me to a homeless shelter where I stayed for two nights. This homeless shelter was terrifying and disgusting but at the very least they fed me and gave me a place to sleep. While there, I had things stolen from me.

The second day away from the homeless shelter I began wandering around the streets of D.C. following the lights on the street corner. If I came to an intersection and there was a walk sign, I would walk in that direction. Obviously, I became lost after walking in circles all day and I ended up calling for help at a blue light telephone.

This led me to being admitted to a psychiatric hospital where I spent about two weeks. While inside the hospital I imagined that all the patients there were analogues of different people I had known. There was a man there named Everett, and so I believed he represented Ellen. There were other people there representing the other women and other friends I've had in the past. Two patients in particular, Kevin and Michael, seemed to represent a Kevin and a Michael that I used to know. I thought perhaps the CIA had put together an entire show to de-program me or interrogate me.

Before this all had happened I had been having conversations with the twitter account SwiftOnSecurity, believing the account was an FBI account, and they were reading everything I wrote in my google account. The way it worked was I would write something in my google account and check SwiftOnSecurity's page and things he wrote seemed to reply to what I wrote, and so I carried on 'conversations' that way with this account. I mention this because one of the nurses was what I imagined SwiftOnSecurity would look like. I called this nurse 'Swifty' and believed him to be the FBI. Various other nurses were thought to represent different things.

I also talked to Ellen through my iPad by using the notes app. I would write a message and then Ellen would respond by me clicking on the suggested words in the app. So, I would write a sentence, and then Ellen would reply by me hitting the first suggestion multiple times, or by picking the words that most sounded like a real sentence. I imagined this was a secret CIA piece of tradecraft that they had worked out.

Eventually I reconnected with my family and found a way to reach them via facebook once I was released from the hospital. My aunt got me a hotel room and a flight back home. Once at home, I tried to explain to my parents the different spy things that were going on but they were upset and I didn't understand why. I found a doctor and began taking medication and the delusions began to fade away.

Now, I'm most concerned about the future and how I will live with this illness. I currently live with my parents and things are OK, but in the future I won't have them and I am most afraid of what will happen. They have assured me I won't be homeless but I am not so sure.

#schizophrenia #mental illness #psychosis #ellen everett #poetry

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briamichellewrites · 3 months

Text

Bria was a musical prodigy. She could play any song after just hearing it once and she could sing any genre of music. Country, soul, hip-hop, rock, pop… Brad and Mike were impressed! They had to practice over and over until they were perfect. It was a gift they were envious of. She discovered her gift while taking lessons at school. Her teachers likened her to Freddie Mercury, who was also a musical prodigy. She saw the notes in her head. Her brain knew how to make the music come out.

Using Brad’s guitar, they tested her by coming up with random songs. Daughter by Pearl Jam? Yes. Something by the Beatles? Yes. Walk This Way by Aerosmith? Yes. Enter Sandman by Metallica? Yes. Gangsta’s Paradise by Coolio? Yes. Another One Bites The Dust by Queen? Yes. That one was super easy because it was the same chords over and over.

“I’m just a musical prostitute, darling”, she joked.

They laughed. Freddie Mercury? Freddie fucking Mercury. She was playing Santeria by Sublime when Joe, Rob, and Dave came in. They all stood in the doorway while she played. When she was done, they clapped for her. What were they doing? Brad told them how he and Mike discovered that Bria was a musical prodigy. They were testing her.

Dave missed Jon. He understood that he had a wife and kids who were waiting for him. It wouldn’t be fair for him to stay in LA. There would be other men, but none of them would be like Jon. He wanted to thank Bria for introducing them, but not in front of the band. Because they were having trouble with their label, he was thinking about stepping aside for a while. A group of friends were forming a Christian ska and punk band. They asked him to join them.

He talked to Jon and he encouraged him to do it. It sounded like his band would always be there waiting for him. Bria handed Brad his guitar. She would have to buy herself one. You don’t have one? Nope. Yeah, she should. He gave her recommendations. She finally got her inheritance and all of her parents’ stuff, so she could use the money to buy one.

The band was saddened by Dave’s walking away, but they understood. They would hire a replacement until he got back. He thanked them. It would just be for a year or two. They still needed a lead singer, so they jokingly asked Bria if she could do a blend of hip-hop and metal. She would try but she couldn’t guarantee she would be any good. They laughed. Dave asked if he could come over. She joked about him needing kitten therapy. Yeah, he did.

Back at her place, she and Dave went into her living room where Woody was taking one of many naps. He needed his energy to run around in the middle of the night. The house had been recently cleaned by her housekeeper. He sighed because he knew what they had to talk about and he was worried about how it was going to go.

“I’ve spent the whole day going over what I’m going to say. Now, I lost it. I’m stuck in the middle between you and Jon. It was never supposed to happen.”

“Do you regret it?”

“No, I don’t. After we left your place, we went to a hotel and slept together. It was the best experience I’ve ever had with another man. I just feel confused because I love you. I know I just met you and I’m jumping the gun. I have to let him go. What is your relationship with him?”

“My parents bought a house next to his and his wife’s. So, he’s known me since I was five years old. We slept together the night before you guys did.”

“Damn it. I need a drink. No. No, I don’t.”

She pulled him in and wrapped her arms around him. Why was he upset? Because he had fallen for both of them but could only have one. He didn’t want her to think she was a second choice because she wasn’t. She was his first choice. He was scared because he had never been in a relationship sober.

Every time he had been with someone, he was always drinking. He didn’t want to hurt her or drag her down with him. As much as he wanted to push her away, he wanted her to stay with him. If he lost her, he would beat himself up over it. He felt like a little boy being comforted by his mother. For the first time, he felt safe being vulnerable and opening himself up. She wasn’t going to hurt him.

“You’re not going to lose me. I’ve never been in a relationship but I really like you.”

“Will you take a chance on me?”

“Yes.”

He sat up before kissing her. She got onto his lap. He put his hands on her hips before putting his head on her shoulder. I love you. She loved him, too. They decided to go upstairs to her bedroom. On her bed, he sat down in the middle. She straddled him and gently grabbed his hair as he kissed her. He wanted to explore her body and make love to every curve.

The next morning, he informed the boys that they were officially dating. They congratulated him! Rob joked about her taming the wild Farrell. She agreed she had. They laughed. He didn’t want to tell them about the events leading up to him asking her to be his girlfriend.

Or him sleeping with Jon. They didn’t need to know that. He knew that he would understand that he couldn’t be with him anymore. Jon would want him to stay faithful to Bria. During a break, he stepped outside for privacy to call him using her phone. He answered thinking it was her. Hey, it’s me. He laughed and apologized for his mistake.

“It’s fine. I just wanted to let you know that she and I are dating.”

“Congratulations! Take care of her for me.”

“I will. I had to tell you, so you didn’t think I was making you think there was a chance with us.”

“I like you, Dave. Thank you for thinking of me. Does she know?” “Yeah, she does. She’s cool with it. What about your wife?”

“She knows. Thank you for helping me come out. Next time I’m in LA, we can meet up to hang out. Or whatever you are calling it these days.”

He laughed. “Yeah, it’s hanging out. You’re welcome. If you ever need anything, please call me.”

He would. They then said goodbye. He then went back inside and handed her the phone. Even though he was in love, he wanted to wait to introduce her to his family. Jon had to laugh. He was getting too old. Dave will always be a special person in his life. It was because of him, he found the courage to come out.

“Jon, we already knew that.”

He wondered how often he gave himself away. How many times did they think he was gay? He wasn’t attracted to any of his band members. They were like his brothers. My name is John Francis Bongiovi Junior and I am a bisexual man. Would he come out publicly? He wasn’t sure yet. Maybe after he told his family. That would be something he talked about with his family and band. He reminded himself of what Bria and Dave said. It’s nobody’s business.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon @fiickle-nia

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bookio · 2 years

Text

The Roads are like Washboards Here (2016) by Hilding Sandberg

Three female teenagers living a typical coming of age life out in a small town, among fields and tractors.

Two of the female friends seem to develope feelings for each other despite one of them having a boyfriend. While the third one (i identify her by the eyebrow piercing) gets very drunk after a party once and shares bed with a male friend of hers, who then turn out to have raped her.

She refuse to stay silent and tell everyone during another party, which splits all the towns teenagers basically into two groups. This whole ordeal is very stressful for the girls but they stick together and at the end, the pierced girl decides to shave off her hair.

This is suppose to be a sequel from another book with the same characters, but my library didn't have it. I think without it, the characters felt a little bland. I like the artstyle though, the environment looked very realistic! 2/5 stars

- - - - -

Ultrasound (2022) by Conor Stechschulte

A young balding man named Glen, has his car broken down outside a lonesome house in the middle of a storm. A teacher called Art and his young wife Cindi lives there, and let's him stay the night. The teacher convinces Glen to sleep with Cindi and she tells him about her isolating life marrying this teacher at age 19. Things quickly takes a strange turn weeks later when Art suddenly shows up outside Glen's apartment with a recording showing Cindi being very pregnant. Unbeknownst to Glen, Art also installs a customized soundbox while there.

They argue about responsibility which ends with Glen eventually agreeing to meet up with Cindi. They talk it out and try moving in with each other to care for this coming baby.

Meanwhile we also get glimpses of Cindi's childhood, hanging out with her best friend Shannon and the emotional grooming from her history teacher Art.

Shannon, now grown up, works at a facility that experiment with mind control and hypnosis through sounds. We get a short random scene between all this, showing Art ensuring a couple that a baby soon is ready for them.

Either way, Cindi's pregnant stomach one day suddenly deflates like a balloon. Panic and confusion sets in, but the couple barely have time to call for help til mysterious people pretending to be ambulance staff quickly gets the couple and brings them to a furnished cage at the mind control facility.

Cindi tries to make an escape with Glen, who's legs doesn't work outside the hypnosis. They eventually reach a hotel room thinking they're safe.

Before the escape, Shannon secretly installed a secret safe-switch in Cindi, to break the mind control in form of a special melody she let her listen to now and then.

At the hotel room, Cindi suddenly remembers the melody again, making a mirror glitch and for a moment show the facility staff observing them from a monitoring room. She falls into a manic laughing fit, shouting "We never left! We never left!".

Shannon recognizing her friend being at her breaking point, in complete mind torture, threatens the facility staff to let the couple go. When they refuse, she breaks the cage down by throwing a chair through the mirror.

Shocked but relieved, Cindi sees Shannon and climbs out with Glen to escape for real now. They're chased by security but manages to get to a car and drives towards their freedom. Glen is still under heavy hypnosis and is given earphones playing the melody over and over, changing the surroundings to reality. Turns out both Cindi and Shannon worked at the facility, but tricked into becoming one with the experiments.

The ending shows a scene from another household, where a young woman frantically calls her parents, saying she's sorry for been silent for weeks but something strange has happened. She was cleaning the apartment and accidentally bumped a weird music box, which made her dizzy and then suddenly she was heavily pregnant. She's crying and can't explain how since she hasn't had sexual intercourse, meanwhile a TV screen in the background shows the teacher Art celebrating next to a president who just been elected to power.

Really cool and confusing comic, the mix of media where memories blend with carefully drawn lines and some pages looking like they've been drawn on felt or drown in water. The characters was a bit difficult to distinguish since they basically had the same face (i draw like this too so i shouldn't complain really) if it hadn't been for the haircuts. It's kind of weird how i blindly picked two different comic books, and yet both shared similarities in containing rape and women cutting off their hair in symbolism to take back power of their body! 4/5 stars

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halfmoondaze · 2 years

Note

I want another enemies to lovers

The Strangest Effect

Today Y/N was attending the Kentucky Derby, being close friends with Druski and Urban, but this meant she was also stuck having to hang out with Jack.

The three of you were staying in the same hotel, with you having a separate room were Jack, Urban and Druski were staying. You were currently putting your accessories when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in” you yelled thinking it was Urban.

To your disappointment, it was only Jack.

“Are you planning on finishing anytime soon? We are going to be late” he said in annoyance.

You rolled your eyes.

“I needed help with my dress” you said referring to the zipper.

You attempted doing it yourself once again but to your surprise, Jack didn’t hesitate before walking closer to you and help you out. His fingers got ahold of the zipper as he began to slowly zip it all the way up, while you starred at him through the vanity mirror in front of you.

As soon as he finished, he looked at you from the mirror reflection of the mirror breaking the spell. You immediately looked away and muttered under your breath a quick ‘thanks’ before gathering the rest of your stuff.

“I’ll be on the hallway” he said in a low voice before exiting.

Once you arrived at the event, Jack separated fom the rest of you as he took some pictures at the red carpet and did some interviews.

The place was packed and all eyes were on Jack. He had brought everyone to The Kentucky Derby. His parents, Clay, DJ Drama, Bryson Tiller, Druski, and many others. Not being so close to Jack, you almost felt out of place.

Hw was glowing. Thos was a side of Jack you rare get to see. It was almost endearing to watch. Like a child on Christmas morning, Wait…what the fuck was she saying? For a moment she swore she almost sounded like she was falling for him…weird.

As Y/N’s first time attending the Kentucky Derby, she enjoyed the experience, even though it wasn’t really her scene, but there was something about being around an atmosphere of excitement that made the whole thing worth it.

The following day, Urban had invited Y/N and Jack for lunch together, in hopes to ease the tension between the two of them, as it was starting to get awkward for the rest of them.

Jack opened the front door to find Urban standing in front of it.

“I guess is just going to be me and you. Y/N said she wasn’t feeling really well”

“Yea right” Jack said rolling his eyes before waking past him to his SUV, encouraging Urban to follow hi.

On the drive to the restaurant, Jack couldn’t stop ranting about Y/N, which was making Urban become annoyed at him.

“Dude, are you changing the topic anytime soon? I swear you haven’t stopped talking about Y/N since we left your house” Urban laughed at him.

Jack realized he was right and decided to just turn on the radio to forget about it.

“You guys should just kiss already” Urban muttered laughing.

Jack responded to his comment by giving him a death glare before putting his eyes back on the road.

One night, Urban invited Y/N over to get together at Jack’s house. Not wanting to make a big fuss about it, she decided to join them considering she didn’t have anything interesting going on.

“Y/N” Jack said surprised to see you as he opened the front door.

“Um…hi, Urban invited me over”

“He did?”

“Yeah…this was stupid, Ill just go”

Y/N turned around to walk away but before she could Jack stopped her.

“Wait”

She turned around.

“Urban forgot to mention you were coming, but he hasn’t arrived yet. You can stay and hang out if you want” Jack said almost in a timid way.

Wait, was Jack nervous? Y/N thought to herself.

“Ok…” you said walking inside.

Jack was clearly not himself tonight. As he seemed distracted and not confident at all which was rare.

Jack and Y/N sat on the couch watching a random film. But it seemed like none of them could concentrate on it and there was this undeniable tension in the air.

“Do you want something to drink?” he asked suddenly.

“Sure” you responded hoping probably a drink would ease the awkwardness.

And this is how you and Jack ended up getting tipsy and sitting in a corner in the living room laughing at the most random things.

“Are you serious?” you said almost breathless from laughing too much.

“You bet”

As soon as the laughter dies down, they fnd themselves lost in each other. Jack starts leaning in to kiss Y/N and Y/N does the same.

In that moment, laughter can be heard from the hallway along with the sound of footsteps. Urban had most likely let himself inside with some friends.

Jack stands up and reached for her hand.

“We should go downstairs”

“Yea” she said taking his hand as she stood up.

It has been a week since Y/N and Jack’s last encounter, and they were actively avoiding each other. Everyone at their circle soon catch on to it and wouldn’t stop teasing Jack about it.

During that time, Jack attempted to text her several times, but he would always end up erasing the message before he could hit ‘sent. This was new to him and he was having a hard time navigating through it. But soon enough he grew impatient and decided to just confront you. Which is why he was now in the front of Y/N house talking himself into just ringing the stupid doorbell.

“Ok” he whispered to himself before ringing the doorbell.

After a few minutes you opened the door.

“Jack, what are you doing here?” Y/N asked surprised by his sudden visit.

“I just wanted you to know that I don’t hate you. I don’t know why I even treated you so bad all this time. I think growing up I always had this crush on you but I didn’t know what to do with myself about and instead of just being a man about it and say it, I would just be mean to you. And I guess I never find a way to act on it so I remained acting the same way. And I came to realize this the last time he hung out”

You were speechless.

“Jack…I don’t know what to say”

“You don’t have to say anything, I just wanted you to know that I don’t hate you. I could never hate you” he said before turning around and walking away.

“Jack wait”

Jack turned around and stood there in shock as he felt your lips touch his. Eventually leaned into her and out his hands on her waist as he kissed her back.

After a few minutes the both of you broke the kiss.

“Can I take you out on date and officiate this?”

You giggled at him.

“Yeah, I like the sound of that”

#jack harlow #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x you #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow one shot #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow concepts #jackman thomas harlow #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow fic #requested #request

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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years

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Heyo! I'm a REALLY REALLY REALLY! Big fan of angst and your works, so I have a suggestion! So like, in this au Bakugou and Y/N are aged up and they have a daughter (let's just say her name is either Katsumi or Kirumi). So, the child is 4 years old and she didn't get her quirk yet. Let's just say Bakugou got drunk when his friends dragged him to a bar and this woman decided to hit him up and let's just say he cheated- so Y/N found out because kiri just had to tell her because it wasn't manly at all for him to keep a secret and Y/N left him with his child and boom! Bad ending. Please tag me in this one tyy!

Bet.

(Changed it up the slightest bit to make Katsumi remember bc I kinda wanna do a part 2 for this)

Nobody to Blame but Yourself - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: ANGST, cursing, cheating, alcohol consumption

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Pt.1 Pt.2

You have a small, beautiful family. Your loving husband, Katsuki and your adorable daughter, 5 year old Katsumi.

Katsumi was your precious baby girl. She had Katsuki’s ash blonde hair with your silky smooth hair texture. She had your E/C eyes and Katsuki’s porcelain skin. She had Katsuki’s bravery and boldness along with your kindness and compassion. She was a perfect mix of you both.

Y/N and Katsuki have been together ever since their childhood. Their families were close and they grew up together. Katsuki always swore to protect his princess. They got together in their junior year and about 5 years after they graduated from UA high, Katsuki proposed.

—

“Be back soon, okay Suki?” You sweetly said to your husband as he got closer to the door. He pulled you in with a smile and pecked your cheek.

“Yeah, yeah Teddy Bear. I’ll probably be back sooner than you think, don’t even wanna go with those losers.” He complained with a strained face. You giggled at his expression and went on.

“Those losers have been your best friends since high school. You love them. You know you do,” you teased. “Besides, you haven’t spent some time with them in forever.”

“Yeah Y/N. I’m a husband and a dad. I don’t need to be around my friends, I need to be with my family.” He exclaimed with a playful voice.

“Well your family will still be here when you get back. Just as long as you always come back to us too.” You said with a wink.

“Always will Teddy Bear.” He said holding you tight. He held you close until you both heard the little pitter patter of feet running to the front door. You both looked down and saw your daughter in her pjs and watched as she jumped onto Katsuki.

“Be back soon daddy!” She said with a squeal. Katsumi was definitely a daddy’s girl. Her and her father were attached at the hip the second she was born. They were best friends and you loved their father-daughter dynamic.

“Katsumi, you’re supposed to be sleeping, love.” You said with a chuckled as you held her tiny hand while Katsuki picked her up in his arms.

“I wanted to say bye to daddy before he went to see uncle Kiri! And uncle Denki and uncle Sero and Auntie Mina!” She said and watched as you and Bakugou lip synced to her voice as she said the Bakusquad’s names. She laughed at her parent’s teasing as Katsuki assaulted her in kisses.

“That’s sweet baby bear. Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon. So get to bed you brat,” Bakugou said as he placed his daughter down and ruffled her hair. Others would look down on the rough treatment but you knew Katsumi never took it seriously. She always laughed and played back with Katsuki whenever he put on his ‘mean guy act.’

“M’kay.” Katsuki bent down to kiss her cheek and you followed doing the same action before Katsumi ran back off to her room. You and Katsuki said bye to each other after Katsuki gave you a loving kiss. He walked out the door to meet with his friends as he knew he was in for a long night.

It would soon shock him to see how true that statement would be.

—

The night was going well. Katsuki left around 8:30 and he said he would be back sooner than you thought so considering he was now a family man, you thought he’d be back by midnight. However, you woke up in the middle of the night and saw it was 3 in the morning...and he still wasn’t home. You were starting to get worried now.

If this was back in your earlier years of marriage, you’d say this was okay. Not great but okay, except now, Katsuki has responsibilities and promises that he vowed to keep. He should’ve been home a long time ago. Where was he? You stayed up deciding to sit and wait for him to come home and after almost 2 hours, your phone rang.

You picked it up quickly with a little bit of fear and anger sitting in your stomach. You didn’t even bother to check who it was so when you heard the voice of your husband’s best friend instead of Katsuki, you grew concerned.

“Katsuki! Where are you?!” You asked with worry as you slightly shouted into the phone.

“Hey Y/N..... It’s Kirishima. Umm...I have something to tell you.” He said with sadness detected in his voice.

“Kiri? Is everything alright? Wheres Katsuki?” You asked.

“I’m so sorry Y/N...”

Listening to the red head’s voice made your eyes pop. Your body trembled and tears began to pool in your eyes as you shook your head in denial. Katsuki loved you. You both had a daughter! A family! He would never....he wouldn’t....right? After talking to your friend for some time and getting the crucial information you needed, you made up your mind on what you had to do.

“T-Thank you, Kirishima. Goodnight.” You said into the phone with a hiccup.

“I’m sorry Y/N. You don’t deserve this. You and Katsumi....goodnight.” He said and hung up the phone. You placed it down and sat in silence for a moment. After about a minute, you broke down again and cried into your hands. You sobbed as tears flowed down your cheeks. Rivers of heartbreak and anger streamed down your face as you cried the night away.

Well..you couldn’t cry all night. Katsuki would probably be back in the morning and you had plans. You’d have to save your tears for later. You looked at the time.

4:18 a.m.

You set your alarm for 6 and went back to bed. The whole night, all you could think about was your precious baby girl. This was going to break her little heart. Instead of crying over your husband’s betrayal, you wept for your daughter’s future without her best friend. Eventually you cried yourself to sleep and the sun rose in time.

—

10:00 a.m

Katsuki opened his eyes to the alarm on the nightstand. He yawned a bit before adjusting his eyes to morning light. The more he looked at the stand, the more he realized he didn’t recognize it. Nor the alarm clock. He looked around and noticed he wasn’t in his bedroom. Katsuki shot up and sat on the bed and looked down to notice he was completely undressed. He looked to the side and saw some random woman. A complete stranger who was also naked in bed with him. His heart grew rapid as his eyes grew frantic.

“No, no, no, no, no, no this can’t be happening..this can’t be happening!” Katsuki said as his hands found way to his hair as he tugged on the blonde locks. The woman next to him awoken to his shuffling and smiled up at him. She placed her hand on his bare chest and cuddled in close to him as she sighed in content.

“G’morning handsome. Had a fun night?” She teased, reminding him of his affair and unloyal actions.

“Get the fuck off me!” He said as he jumped out of bed and found his pants. He pulled them on and continued to scream. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! The hell did you do to me you fucking slut?”

“What’re you talking about? And who the fuck are you calling a slut?” The woman said with sass.

“Just tell me where I am!” Katsuki demanded.

“A hotel! You know, the hotel you dragged me to so you could get your dick wet.” She said as she sat up from the bed but still covered herself with the blanket.

“Why the fuck would I do that?!” He screamed.

“You tell me. All I know is that I saw you in that bar, you drank a hell of a lot with your friends, I came up to you and flirted with you, you flirted back, we shared a few more drinks, and you dragged me here. I mean, I consented of course but still.” The stranger explained. Bakugou shook as he looked around in a frenzy. “Anyway, round 2?”

“You fucking bitch, I have a wife!” He screamed at her as he got himself dressed.

“Heh, wow. Well when your wife leaves you after she finds out you cheated, give me a call.” The woman said as she layed back down on the bed. Katsuki seethed at her as he squinted his eyes in disgust.

“You shameless slut. Like hell I will! And Y/N’s not gonna leave me! She loves me! And I love her-“

“Sure didn’t seem like it last night~” the woman said. Bakugou had enough and blasted the bed she was on with his quirk before cussing her out and leaving her there. He quickly ran out the hotel and found his car. He hopped inside and started it as he quickly sped off home.

“Shit!” Bakugou screamed at himself. How could he do that?! How could he cheat on you?! You were his everything! You and Katsumi! His two girls were his entire world! And he betrayed the both of you by doing this. He could only hope that you wouldn’t find out. He can’t tell you what he did. He would lose you! He can’t lost you! This whole thing just has to pass over and things will be fine. Right? Well something didn’t sit right with him as he inched closer and closer to his house.

—

When the 6 o’clock alarm rang, you woke up, ready for the day to begin and the drama to unfold. You were quick to get yourself ready. Brush your teeth, shower, get dressed, a little makeup, and you packed your important belongings and your clothes. Everything else would be replaceable. You put on a pair of shoes and put the rest in the large suitcase you had.

You made a quick call to Mina, assuming she already knew what happened. You asked if you could drop Katsumi off for some time and she of course said yes. After saying ‘thank you,’ you brought all your bags into your car and went back inside to get your daughter.

You walked into your daughter’s bedroom to see her sleeping peacefully. Next to her bed, a framed picture of your once happy family. It was Katsumi’s 4th birthday and she didn’t want to spend it with anybody else except for Mommy and Daddy. Now, you were gonna have to take someone out the picture. You shook your daughter awake and watched as she opened her beautiful E/C eyes that resembled your own.

“Katsumi..hey baby, wake up.” You softly said with a reassuring smile to not alarm her. You watched as she rubbed her eyes with her tiny fist and looked up at you.

“Mommy? What’s going on?” She asked as she looked around in a daze.

“You’re gonna have a little play date at Auntie Mina and Uncle Kiri’s house. Uncle Denki and Uncle Sero will be there too! You excited?” You asked with enthusiasm to hide your pain.

“Really Mommy?!” Your daughter asked with excitement.

“Mhm! Get ready and get dressed for Mommy. They’ll be here at 8, okay?” You said rubbing your daughter’s back before she quickly jumped out of bed and into her own bathroom.

“Okay Mommy!” She said as she ran into the bathroom, turning on the sink to begin her morning routine. Some time passed and Katsumi got dressed and you went back in her room to help her dry her hair. You helped her put on her shoes and by the time they were on, Mina and Kiri were already at the door.

You opened it with a soft smile and the couple looked at you with supportive, sad eyes. “Hey guys..”

“It’s okay to be sad Y/N, we’re here for you.” Mina said. Your eyes teared up at her words but you shook your head and gave her a hug.

“Thank you, but I promise myself I wouldn’t cry. At least, not when Katsumi’s around. I gotta be strong for her. Her whole life’s about to change after all.” You sadly said as you looked down and released your hold on Mina. Your pink friend nodded before walking into the house to find Katsumi in her bedroom. You and Kirishima stayed at the door and talked a bit more.

“I’m so sorry for all of this Y/N. I should’ve been watching him more.” Kirishima said as he looked down in sorrow.

“Kiri, you shouldn’t have to watch him. He cheated and that was his choice. Your choice was being a true friend and telling me. A true man,” you joked. You both gave a little bittersweet laugh before calming down again. “Thank you so much Kirishima.”

The red head did nothing but pull you in for a tight hug. You almost cried on his shoulder before your daughter came to the both of you. “Uncle Kiri!”

You both separated and looked down at the excited 5 year old. She jumped onto her uncle and he happily held her in his arms. “Hey squirt. Ready for a day full of fun?”

“Mhm!” Katsumi replied. You all talked some more before Katsumi said her goodbye to you and went off with Kirishima and Mina. You shut the door and took a break as you allowed a few silent tears to drop. You wiped them away and went to pack your daughter’s bags. Just a few more hours and he’d be home..probably. All you knew was that you’d have to face him eventually.

Finally, you finished packing your daughter’s things and placed them in your car. You put on a jacket and waited for Katsuki to walk through the doors. Soon, this perfect little family would go crumbling to the ground.

—

Katsuki pulled into his driveway and his eyes took notice of your car still there. He smiled at the sight and quickly got out of the car. He slammed the vehicle door shut and ran to the entrance. He unlocked the door in a rush and to say he was happy to see you on the couch, still there, was an understatement.

“Y/N! Hey Teddy Bear! I am so sorry!” He said as he ran to you and sat down next to you on the couch, pulling you in for a tight hug. He was too happy to even notice your jacket and shoes that you wore.

“Katsuki, you were gone all night. Where were you?” You said in a soft voice as you placed your hand on his chest so you could face him.

“I-..I overdid it and spent the night at Kirishima’s. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, love. I was passed out the whole night.” He said and attempted to pull you in again but you pressed a hand to his chest to stop him. You couldn’t believe he was going to lie to you. Actually, now that you think about it, cheating wasn’t below him so why would lying be either?

“So why didn’t Kirishima call me? Or Mina?” You questioned. Unfortunately, you underestimated Katsuki’s quick tongue. He was a good liar, and if you hadn’t already known the truth, you’d probably believe him.

“Shitty hair’s phone died and Alien girl was asleep by the time we got back. By the time he put me in the guest bed, I knocked out so don’t asked me what happened after.” He said. Your anger and fury grew at his lies but he didn’t notice. “Look, I’m so sorry I came back so late but I can make it up to you Teddy Bear. Now would you just give me a hu-“

“SHUT! UP!” You screamed as you pushed him off of you. You stood up from the couch and Bakugou watched you in “confusion.” Bakugou felt his heart racing as he had a guess at why you were so mad but he refused to believe it.

“T-Teddy Bear, whats wrong?” He asked with shaky hands as he tried to reach out to you but you dodged all his attempts.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?! You’re fucking lying to me! You’re lying to me after doing what you did! Katsuki, are you just gonna act like you don’t know what you did?! Because I know! So why don’t you?!” You screamed at him. Bakugou still couldn’t believe you knew so he tried his soft attempts once more and reached out to you again.

“Baby, please calm dow-“

“Are you fucking serious Katsuki? You’re gonna tell me to calm down?!” You laughed out in disbelief. You watched as Katsuki’s lip began to tremble and he looked down in shame. “Say it.”

“What?” He spoke softly.

“Say what you did.”

“......”

“Say it Katsuki! Tell me what you did and how you betrayed not only me but your daughter too.” You specified. It took Bakugou a second before he spoke up in a soft, quiet voice.

“I cheated on you...”

“Louder.”

“I cheated on you!” He said while standing up and facing you with tears in his eyes. “I cheated on you! Okay?! I got drunk last night and slept with someone else but baby I swear I didn’t mean it!” He said as he walked to you and tried to hold you. You once again pushed his hands away before speaking back.

“It doesn’t matter if you meant it or not Katsuki! You still did it!” Your voice grew dry as it began to break. Your eyes pooled with tears as you continued. “I would’ve NEVER done that to you. I wouldn’t even be CAPABLE of doing that to you Katsuki! Because I love you!”

“I love you Y/N! I swear I do!” He fought back but you retaliated.

“It doesn’t seem like it! Because you slept with someone else! You promised me you would never hurt me. You promised you would always protect me. You promised me that you loved me and only me! Not only that but you promised your daughter that you would never bring harm to her! Guess what?! You’re the reason her whole life is going to be so fucked Katsuki! Do you realize that?!” You screamed at him.

“I do, Teddy Bear, I do!” He said.

“Don’t fucking call me that Katsuki!” You said with an exasperated voice. Bakugou shook his head as he walked to you and kneeled infront of you.

“Baby, please! I’m sorry! I was drunk, it didn’t mean anything! It was a mistake but if we can forget about this I promise I’ll make it up to you!” He begged.

“Forget? Forget?! Are you insane?! I’m never gonna be able to forget any of this Katsuki. How the hell am I supposed to forget that my first friend, my first love, my first kiss, my first everything betrayed me like this! How am I supposed to forget that my husband, who I’ve known since we were fucking babies, cheated on me?! Tell me!” You said as the tears finally fell.

“I don’t know...I don’t know but I promise I can make it up to you! So please forgive me! Please stay!” He pleaded. The whole time he couldn’t let go of you. Every time you pushed him off, he just came right back.

“How am I supposed to trust that you’ll actually keep that promise?” You said softly with a sad voice. “If it wasn’t clear already, I’m not staying. We’re getting a divorce, Katsuki.”

Bakugou felt his heart shatter. He looked at you with his trembling body and shaky irises. “W-What?”

“Katsuki...you cheated. There’s no other way around it. No explanations or excuses. And you can’t even blame it on the alcohol because I’ve been blackout drunk before too and the idea of cheating on you never even crossed my mind. You have nobody to blame but yourself.” You said with a broken voice and a shrug. “We’re getting a divorce and I’m taking Katsumi with me.” You said and began to walk to the door.

Bakugou couldn’t believe what he just heard and so he got up from his knees and ran after you. He ran in front of you and held you by the shoulders. “What?! No! Baby!! Please, that’s my daughter! You can’t just take her from me, please!”

“I won’t be taking her from you,” you said and pushed his hands off your shoulders. “We can co-parent, but when she’s old enough, when Katsumi asks why we’re no longer together, I’ll be telling her the truth. So you can still see her, but when she’s ready to know, if she decides she hates you and doesn’t want to see you ever again, then you’ll have to accept it.”

At this point, Katsuki began to openly cry as he allowed his fat tears to flow down his face. Hiccups left his mouth as he shamelessly sobbed infront of you. “Y-Y/N....please don’t go. You guys are my family, you’re both my entire world..I-I love you both so much,” he said and went in to grab your hand, which you allowed. “I know I hurt you both a-and I know I fucked up, but please just give me another chance. I swear this was just a mistake, I never meant to do it. Please stay...please let me fix my mistake. I love you.”

Tears once again filled your eyes but you didn’t allow them to flow. “.....I love you too Katsuki,” at those words, Bakugou felt a bit of hope. “But I just can’t stay with you. If it was just me..I probably would give you another chance..but Katsumi is your daughter Katsuki. She’s your own flesh and blood and you betrayed her. You’re supposed to be her hero and you betrayed her like this. I just can’t trust the fact that you won’t do something like this again, and not just for my sake but for our daughter’s too. I’m sorry, but this is where we end.”

Once you said that you walked away from Bakugou, leaving him in shock. He stood there, regretting everything. Not just his mistake, but all the times where he could’ve been a better husband.

‘I should’ve held her more..I should’ve been home more...I should’ve been more for them,’ he thought until he heard the door open and slam shut. He turned to face it and looked around the now very empty house. He allowed silent tears to drip down his face and then he took a little tour of his new environment.

He walked to the master bedroom and saw all your belongings gone. He saw your closet was empty, all your shoes gone. He went into the bathroom and saw all your stuff was missing. The tears flowed faster and when he walked into his daughter’s room, it made it 10x worse.

He opened the door to the pink room and saw her bedsheets missing, all her toys gone, her closet was barren, and her bathroom was hollow. He walked back out to his little girl’s former bed and sat down. He cried on the bed and sobbed into his hands. He broke down as he thought back to your words. You were right.

‘You have nobody to blame but yourself.’

Katsuki looked up from his hands and when he did, he took notice of the picture frame that was left faced down on the night stand. He picked it up and his heart turned to dust. It couldn’t break anymore. He looked at the picture of his once happy family. His beautiful wife, his blessing of a daughter. His two girls who had a protector...that protector was supposed to be him...and he failed. He smiled at the picture but continued to cry. It was a beautiful sight but you left it behind.

He took the picture with him as he walked to his bedroom. He sat on the bed and held the frame close to his chest as he layed down on the cold mattress. Tears still freely fell as a shadow casted over his eyes. No words could be said except for a few.

“N-Nobody to blame but myself.”

@darl1ngmei

A/N: Hey Cubs! It’s been awhile since my requests have been closed AND THEY STILL ARE but the reason why I took this one was because I’ve been on a writing spree recently (I literally have 15 drafts full of different writing pieces🤣) and I rly liked this request! Please don’t start sending requests because they may just get lost. When I open up my requests, then you guys can send some because I love to satisfy! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this piece and thank you to the cub who requested this! 🧸💗

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

Intro and masterlist

✨about me ✨

this is a mature blog, I trust all minors to be responsible and avoid everything marked NSFW!

NSFW sideblog: @pervstash-spencer

Hi! my name is emily, I'm 23 she/they

Capricorn, bisexual, non-binary, autistic, and I have fibromyalgia ✌🏻 overall just a fun time y'know.

ao3

i love: supernatural, star trek, marvel movies, criminal minds, this is us and grey's anatomy !!

Accepting requests for Spencer Reid x Reader fics currently

all my tags are listed below if you want to see other posts about said fics, also here is my Spotify for the fics <3

Dad!spencer Masterlist

First times Masterlist**

all links to my fics below the cut!

Updated: July 28th, 2021

** for smut

~~ for angst

Spencer Reid x Reader fics

Hypothetically**~ Ao3 | Tumblr -- 27 chapters, complete. 89k

reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast.

friends to lovers, case of the week style story

touch me**~ Ao3 | Tumblr 5.8k

Spencer is incredibly touch-starved and hard on himself since coming home from prison. Luckily, the medical examiner in this small town is really good at reading people, and exactly what he needs.

amethyst you so much P1 Ao3 | Tumblr 6.4k

Spencer has had a crush on Y/N since she started working at the bau. She only ever works the night shift after a case, handling all the aftermath gracefully. one night, Spencer stays back and they strike up a conversation about rocks, causing their feelings to dig a little deeper.

of quartz i will P2** Ao3 | Tumblr 6K

after 2 years of dating, Spencer decides it's finally time to get Y/N something to match her Amethyst bracelet.

Amoreena**~ Ao3 | Tumblr Completed 83k

Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Seven* Tumblr WIP

Summary: Spencer’s been married to Y/N for 7 years now, they have 7 children together and each one is going through something different. Spencer’s always wanted to be the best dad, now he gets to figure out how to be.

the guy at the rock show Ao3 | Tumblr 5.6K

Y/N lost their parents when they were 17, finding a new home and solace in Penelope Garcia and taking the Garcia name. They're the top forensic specialist in D.C, in a band and they drive a motorcycle... not to mention they are madly in love with the cute doctor who works with their sister.

journey to Camelot** Ao3 | Tumblr 3.8K

When Penelope introduces Spencer to online games, he expects to be spending his nights alone. Yet, somehow every time he comes back from a bad case, he logs on to chat with the ever so lovely user FairlyGwen and getting a lot more than just a helpful tip from her.

Exploration** Ao3 | Tumblr 4.7K

request: season1/2 spencer walking in on reader while she's watching porn in their shared hotel room

Expedition** Tumblr 1.2K

Summary: there's a first time for everything... including joining the mile high club with your boyfriend on the work jet.

10 Days Ao3 | Tumblr 1.4K

it's spencer's first father's day and he's extremely emotional about the little love of his life that he's only just met. he spends the day with his baby, Edwin, and his wife, crying and happy about how wonderful new little lives are.

ain't it fun?** Ao3 | Tumblr Masterlist 11K

reader just needs an NA meeting before they have a meltdown, they end up with the best friend they could ever make.

I'm not kidding!** Tumblr 6K

Spencer keeps getting little notes from a secret admirer, they're nice and sweet at first as they tease him with their crush until she's sending him notes about all the dirty things she wants to do to him

Perfect Timing** Tumblr 1K

spencer and reader have been spending the last month together in the same hotel room during a pretty brutal case. tension has been rising and she's completely in love with him.

what happens when they both think the other won't be back for a while and they want to shower?

Redamancy** Tumblr 5.4K

the co-op librarian at the FBI Academy has been secretly crushing on the smartest agent in the Bureau, TA, Doctor Spencer Reid, and he's been crushing on her too.

Being Neighbourly** Tumblr 1.9K

Request: reader is Spencers neighbour and she can hear him masturbating every night that he's home how do you have her deal with that?

Professional Hair Dresser (Ph.D)** Tumblr 6.4K

summary: after Spencer's knee injury, he starts visiting a salon every week to get his hair washed

36 Questions to Fall in Love Tumblr 8K

Summary: When Derek bets Spencer that he cant make someone fall in love with him in a week, he doesn’t expect Spencer to marry the girl the next day

New Romantics** Tumblr 23k

Summary: She needs help studying for her Case Exercises at the Academy, He needs a date for the annual Banquet... they just so happen to be neighbours who aren't afraid to lend a helping hand, or in this case, a helping kiss.

Million Dollar Man** | Tumblr WIP 5k so far

summary: Spencer's therapist recommended he branch out and meet new people who don't want to talk about his work... she didn't expect him to sign up for a Sugar Daddy website.

Sugar, Honey, Ice Tea** | Y/N version | 1-4, 5-9, Epilogue 25.6k

Summary: Fix-it-fic: Dr. Y/L/N and Savannah Hayes have been best friends since their medical internship at Bethesda General. When she receives a frantic call that Derek's best friend is being transferred to the prison she works at, an unlikely friendship bubbles.

Eventually falling head over heels for the innocent man.

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Prison, Prison Violence, Assault, Blood, Depression, Murder, Self-Hatred, Hurt Spencer Reid, Canon-Typical Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Drug Addiction, References to Drugs, Drug Use, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Romantic Tension, Forbidden Love, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Strangers to Lovers, Requited Love, Falling In Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, past abusive relationship, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault

Spencer x Ethan

Ruin it.** Tumblr 5.4K

Summary: Spencer never had sleepovers as a kid, so now that he's an adult he's always sleeping over at Ethan's house, ad he'll take any excuse to crawl into bed beside him.

Warnings: mutual pining, love concessions, blowjobs, handjobs, anal sex (both top and bottom spencer in this), childhood friends to lovers

400 Celebration fics

Reid Me Tumblr 2.5K

Spencer has noticed a beautiful woman at a spirituality booth at the farmers market every Saturday for almost a whole year now. he finally asks her to give him a reading.

mystery of love Tumblr 700

Spencer surprises his wife with a trip to Italy.

Spy Kids Tumblr 900

Spencer and Y/N's kids think that they are secretly spies and request a mission story before bed.

a father's greatest weakness Tumblr 1K

Princess Y/N is betrothed to the Viking king in an effort by her father to keep the peace between their countries, he doesn't expect her to join in the fight to free Scottland.

Luke x Reader

Best Dad Ever 2.8K

Request: angst with a happy ending, reader and luke have been divorced for a few years but have a child, she tries and tries to fall out of love with him but he's around so often that she can't

Spencer x OC

Sugar Honey Ice Tea** Ao3 | WIP 9/10 chapters complete 25.6K

Fix-it-fic: Dr. Beth Pattinson and Savannah Hayes have been best friends since their medical internship at Bethesda General. When she receives a frantic call that Derek's best friend is being transferred to the prison she works at, an unlikely friendship bubbles.

Eventually falling head over heels for the innocent man.

Intro to Criminal Minds: Why They Did It Ao3 | Tumblr WIP 6K+

Spencer is teaching a 7-week seminar on the most interesting criminal cases, explaining their actions to understand why they took place. Only, not everyone in the audience is a student.

Criminal Minds x Mindhunter AU

Spencer x OC Peggy Carr

Franklin x Reader

Voulez-Vouz** | 3.2k

Summary: in a small town, everyone knows each other… or at least they think they do.

Warnings: porn with plot, smut, Dom reader, Sub!Perv!franklin, making out, teasing, face sitting, oral (female and male), hand jobs, overstimulation, prostate message, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, let me know if I forgot anything.

Chip x Reader

forever is the sweetest con** | 6.2K

Summary: Reader’s dad is a carpenter; sometimes he takes on apprentices and sometimes, if they’re lucky, they get his daughter’s number at the end of their training. Chip Taylor, however, hits the jackpot when her father invites him over for one of her homecooked meals.

Warnings: reader’s mom passed away, mentions of parental death, strangers to lovers, random acts of kindness, mutual pining, falling in love, steamy make-outs, oral sex (male and female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, sub!chip, food mentions, praise, love confessions.

Raymond x Reader

Alone Together ** | 2.4K

Summary: Raymond moves into a haunted house and ends up sleeping with the ghost who lives there... only he doesn't know that when you fuck a ghost you also become one.

Warnings: details of suicide and murder, blowjobs, pegging, bottom!raymond, top!reader, becoming a ghost, major character death.

Star Trek Masterlist

Star Wars fix it fic

Supernatural masterlist

thanks for all the love, as always,

-Emily <3

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crackheadgeminibby · 3 years

Text

better for you

pairing: chris evans x female!black!reader

warnings: age gap, angst, language

word count: 2.7k

a/n: this lowkey sucks and is very poorly edited, i’m sorry but on the plus side, i surpassed 400 followers yesterday!! so thank you to those 400+ people🤍🤍

i do not consent to my work being copied in any way, shape of form or reposted on any other platform

not my picture

You didn’t consider yourself a jealous person. Much less a jealous girlfriend. Not at all. Never had and you thought you never would.

You had practically raised yourself as your parents had always been more preoccupied with their jobs. You loved your parents, you really did, but when your high school counselor told you that you could graduate high school a year and a half early, you took the opportunity to start college immediately and move out of your parents’ house. This drastic change when you were so young made you become extremely independent. Which is why your relationship with Chris worked almost perfectly. You valued your independence, as he did his, and you respected his independence, as he did yours.

As a corporate lawyer that had multiple firms around the country, you traveled a lot, needing to meet with clients. Chris, as an actor, also traveled a lot.

You both trusted the other without a doubt at the beginning of the relationship despite that Chris was, at first, a little wary of being with someone as young as you. As a 24-year-old, he thought that you should be living your life, partying, sleeping with whomever you wanted without being tied down, but you had explained to him that despite your age, those were not the things that you wanted.

You and Chris were truly made for each other, knowing the other more than they knew themselves. You would even dare to call yourselves soulmates.

Which is why you could not fathom why you were in your current situation.

You had left early in the day for California, where you were overseeing the opening and start-up of your newest firm. Chris, on the other hand, had left 3 days ago to go on some trip his publicist had arranged for him. You hadn’t bothered asking what it was about, assuming that it was about ASP. Plus, you didn’t mind it: he had to do what he had to do.

But now, you couldn’t believe yourself.

You were sitting on your hotel bed, in a white and fluffy robe, fresh out of the shower. Your computer was open in front of you, the TV was blaring the news and you had your phone in your hand. It was almost 11pm but you had been doing this for at least 3 hours. All three electronics were talking about the same thing: Are Chris Evans and Lily James dating??

It was a bit your fault that people gave themselves the right to assume things like that, to be honest, since you had been the one to pressure Chris about keeping your relationship secret. You knew that people would talk and judge you for your 15-year age gap. You, personally, didn’t care and neither did Chris but his career was dependent on his public image and you didn’t want to hold him back, especially not at a pivotal moment in his life like right now.

So, you had agreed on telling your families and your very close friends and Chris had convinced you to let him tell his publicist, Megan. God, she fucking hated you. When Chris arranged for you guys to meet, she had called you “a walking, breathing PR disaster”. You had laughed it off calling her funny, but you knew that she was 100% serious. You really shouldn’t have been surprised that she would do something so fucked up at some point.

A bunch of different news outlets were pumping out new stories every 30 minutes, each article a little more detailed than the previous. It was all over the Internet and it seemed to be the only thing that people cared about today.

Considering the 8-hour difference between London and San Francisco, you hadn’t been able to talk to Chris at all since you got to your hotel. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to talk to him. He hadn’t even tried to talk to you. Why was he avoiding you and acting like he had something to hide?

You’re reading the latest Daily Mail article on your computer about how Chris and Lily apparently got to his hotel in the same car when you hear your phone ring on the nightstand. You don’t even bother looking at the caller ID as you reach for your phone, eyes still glued to your computer and answer,

“Hello?”

You hear a loud exhale on the other end of the phone before you hear Chris’ tired voice, “Baby, hi.”

You tense up slightly before asking, trying to seem nonchalant, “What’s up?”

“Have you watched the news today?”

You bite your lip, thinking, before replying, lying through your teeth, “No, why? What’s going on?”

Chris sighs again before answering, “Nothing, it’s fine. How was your day?”

You roll your eyes. Was he seriously not going to say anything?

“Fine, but it’s really late and I have to get up early tomorrow so good night.”

You hang up the phone before Chris can answer anything. You throw the phone at the end of your bed, frustrated beyond belief.

You continue to read the Daily Mail article as you hear a message coming in. You don’t bother to get up to pick up your phone as you see the message appear on your computer screen a couple of seconds later.

chris💙, 11:01pm:

Good night baby girl. Good luck tomorrow🤍

You groan loudly at his message. Even when he had pissed you the fuck off, his words still brought butterflies to your stomach.

You disregard his message and finish reading the article. You roll your eyes as you close your computer and get up to put it on the hotel desk. As you’re walking back to bed, you take your phone from the end of the bed and put it on its charger, ready to go to bed.

You’re not sure how you manage to fall asleep that night as your mind swirls with unending thoughts.

When your alarm wakes you up at 6am the next day, you feel groggy, having slept very badly last night. Which was to be expected.

You get up and change while eating a protein bar before heading to the hotel gym: you needed to do something to get your energy up. Once you finish your workout, you head back to your room to get ready for the day.

When you get out of the shower, you open your computer and, having left the Daily Mail website open last night, you see a new article posted 2 minutes ago: Chris Evans and Lily James seen on a date in a London park.You groan loudly, closing your computer as you hear that your cell phone is receiving multiple texts.

You reach for your phone on the hotel desk and your eyes widen as you see your lock screen.

5 missed calls

12 messages

You open your Phone app seeing one call from Chris, two from your best friend, one from your brother and one from your mom.

You open the Messages app as a new message from your brother comes in.

will, 7:31am:

When did you break up with your boyfriend? And why didn’t you tell me?

you, 7:32am:

i didn’t

yet

will, 7:32am:

You know i’m gonna fucking murder him right?

You smile fondly at your brother’s concern, chuckling softly as you type your reply.

you, 7:33am:

as you should(:

You open the rest of your messages, mostly asking the same thing. You didn’t feel like talking about it anymore so, you ignore them until you get to your conversation with Chris.

chris💙, 5:22am:

Hey, I’m sure you’ve seen the articles by now.

I’m so sorry

Call me when you can, please. I really need to talk to you.

You bite your lip as you think about what to answer. You didn’t have the energy to deal with this right before your firm’s opening. Shaking your head, you lock your phone, putting it back on the desk, getting dressed.

As you get back to your hotel room, exhausted from your day, you hear your phone signal an incoming text for the millionth time today.

You sigh loudly: you knew it was Chris texting you again. You had been ignoring his texts all day because you didn’t want to get in a bad mood while you were opening the firm.

You put your purse and work bag on the floor, unlocking your phone. You open the conversation with Chris, scrolling through his messages.

chris💙, 6:15pm:

I’m leaving a bit earlier than I planned, I should be home tomorrow morning.

Are you back in Boston or are you gonna stay in LA?

You sigh, feeling guilty that you had been ignoring his texts all day. You start typing a reply, your finger hovering over the send button for a couple of seconds before clicking on it.

you, 6:17pm:

i’m still in san francisco i’m leaving tomorrow morning

As soon as your message goes through, you see the three dots pop up in the conversation.

chris💙, 6:17pm:

Oh my God, hi. Are you okay?

Can I call you?

You chew on your bottom lip: you really didn’t think he was going to answer that fast.

you, 6:18pm:

i’m about to take a shower then i’m gonna go to bed i’m really tired sorry

chris💙, 6:18pm:

Okay, I’m sorry

Good night

You groan loudly. You really didn’t know why you felt so guilty: he was the one running around with another woman. As you think about this, you realize that you didn’t really know who she was.

You shake your head at yourself as you pull up Google on your phone and look for her. You don’t even realize it but, 20 minutes later, you were now at the oldest post on her Instagram.

You curse at yourself, dropping your phone on your bed, and head to the shower.

You stay under the hot stream of the shower for at least an hour before you finally get out, toweling off.

You order some room service for dinner, settling down in front of a random show playing on the TV. After pushing your food around for half an hour, you sigh loudly, put the tray on the hotel desk and get under the covers before finally falling asleep.

You had not slept very well so you had been in a rush to leave the hotel and catch your flight to LAX in the morning. You were exhausted and hungry when you got to your shared LA home with Chris but there was no food in sight, considering that neither of you had been here in a couple of months.

As it was not too late in the day, you decide to take a nap and order some food after.

When you wake up a few hours later, the sun has already completely set and the house is pitch black. You rub the sleep out of your eyes and take your phone before heading to the living room to order some food.

As you enter the kitchen and are about to head to the living room, you hear a deep voice, “Hey, you’re up.”

Taken by surprise, you throw your phone in the direction of the sound and scream, “Holy shit!”

“Ow… What the fuck?”

You’re breathing heavily, clutching your chest as you turn on the kitchen lights, brightness illuminating the area as you see Chris holding the side of his head.

“Jesus Christ, Chris! You almost gave me a fucking heart attack!”

Chris rubs at his head as he looks towards you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Your heartbeat starts to slow down as you roll your eyes.

“What are you even doing here?”

Chris frowns and replies, “Well, you never told me where you were going to be but when I got back to Boston and you weren’t there, I assumed you were coming here.”

You groan silently, crossing your arms over your chest and raising your eyebrows,

“So, London seemed to be very fun.”

Chris shakes his head, looking up at the ceiling, before making eye contact with you, “I didn’t know that’s what the trip was about.”

You chuckle humorlessly, “Really, Chris? Since when do you go on trips, not knowing what they’re about?”

Chris exhales loudly, taking a couple of steps towards you, “I promise that I didn’t know. Megan planned everything and just sent me the info.”

You snort loudly, rolling your eyes. Chris frowns before asking, “What?”

“Megan, Chris? Really? She fucking hates me, of course she would pull a stunt like this.”

Chris frowns again, shaking his head, “What are you talking about? She doesn’t hate you.”

You laugh, this time, actually finding this funny, “Chris, she literally called me a walking disaster.”

Chris struggles to find an answer to that: he knew that Megan used this exact kind of formulation so he couldn’t deny it.

“And you know what? It’s fine. Maybe you really should be dating her instead of me.”

Chris’ face contorts in a mix of hurt and anger, “Why the fuck would you say something like that?”

“Because it’s true, Chris. She’s better for you. She’s actually your age, not a fucking child compared to you. She can give you the things you want from life that I can’t. Maybe it’s better that way.”

“What way?”

You shrug your shoulders, looking at your feet, mumbling, “If we weren’t together.”

Chris scoffs, “You literally have to be kidding me.”

Chris takes large steps, making his way towards you and takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him.

“Y/N, I’ve told you before and I will tell you again. I do not give a shit about your age. And I thought you didn’t either. So, what’s the problem here?”

You bite your bottom lip nervously, “Because what if what Megan said is true? I mean… If people find out that we’re dating, the shit talking would never stop. I can’t do that to you.”

Chris sighs, enveloping you in a hug.

“Baby, it doesn’t matter. None of it matters if we’re not together.”

He lets you go, stroking your cheek, “You’re it for me. There is no one better for me than you. And no one is going to take that away from us. Not you. Not Megan. And certainly not my fans. If they love me as much as they say they do, then they’ll respect you.”

You chuckle slightly, “Chris, I don’t know what kind of fantasy you live in, but in real life, that’s not how things go.”

“Okay, but who cares? There’s two people in this relationship, you and me. Not you, me, Megan and my fans.”

You scoff, mumbling, “Yeah, tell Megan that.”

“I will. The same goes for her. I didn’t know she actually meant those things about you and I’ll tell her that she needs to knock that shit off.”

You sigh, nodding slightly, “Okay.”

“And, baby, I’m sorry.”

You furrow your brows, trying to understand, “I never should have agreed to Megan’s little plan thing. But, most importantly, I should have told you as soon as I knew. It’s just that I kinda owed Lily a favor and she needed this. But it doesn’t erase the fact that I should have been honest with you and I’m sorry I wasn’t.”

You sigh, “I know, it’s okay. I knew this kind of thing could happen when I decided to be with you, and I overreacted a bit so I’m sorry too. I knew it wasn’t true and I should have asked you about it instead of ignoring you. I just… couldn’t let go of the fact that maybe you should be with her.”

Chris shakes his head, “I shouldn’t. And I never will be.”

Chris laughs a bit before continuing, “Sorry, but you’ll have to try harder to get rid of me.”

You laugh loudly, throwing your head back. Looking back at Chris, you smile warmly before hugging him,

“I love you, Chris. Like, a lot.”

Chris chuckles, squeezing you tighter, “I love you too.”

#chris evans #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x woc #chris evans fanfictions #chris evans fanfics

305 notes · View notes

sunkisseddaffodils · 3 years

Note

hi! can i pls request a sherlock x fem!reader fic in which reader is kinda john's childhood bestfriend, but they were separated when reader with her parents moved somewhere (to united states, for instance). so now when she is in britain again, she sort of struggles with finding a not very fancy place to stay. fortunately, she meets our johnny boi and he immediately proposes for her to stay in 221c, baker-street. so reader moves there, meets sherly and they sorta starting to fall in luv with each other, idk, i just want something sweet and fluffy. its probably to long and messy, but i hope you'll take my request. love u💖

Pairing: sherlock x fem!reader

Genre: reader insert, fluff

Song to listen to: so far so good by great good fine ok

A/n: thanks sm for the request anon! I'm going to split this into parts as it's already too long! Hope you like it!

Reunion- Part 1

Y/N wholeheartedly regretted her decision to move back to the UK when she was sitting for the seventh night in a row in a basic Premier Inn hotel room. Not only was it pouring down with rain, as was the usual in Britain, a couple weeks prior she had received an unwanted message from her future landlord that the flat she was moving into was no longer available. A flat that, after she had spent months meticulously searching for the right price, conditions and area, was finally the perfect one. She would have delayed her move from Seattle if she hadn’t signed a contract for a new job that was starting the next week.

Hunched over at a small desk in the room's corner, she was trawling through Facebook Marketplace for apartments. But it was to no avail; she’d rather not have to share a flat with a random person. And for some of the insanely cheap prices, there had to be a catch. She genuinely loved London, but if you wished to live in the city for a fair price, you had to have a flatmate or enter a house-share. The problem is, after four years of residing in dorms at the University of Washington, she needed her own space. Giving up, she clicked back to the timeline and, as she was scrolling down; she noticed a post from a profile that was familiar. A post by John Watson.

John, in the image, was posed next to a man wearing a navy coat with a matching scarf draped around his neck. The photo seemed to be taken in front of Scotland Yard. John’s life must have changed considerably, seeing as the last time she had talked to him, he was serving in the army as a doctor. Does he work for the police now? And another question rolled around her mind. ‘Who was the guy standing next to him?’ Her heart fluttered just at the sight of him. She sighed and murmured quietly that she should ‘get a hold of herself’.

She and John were basically inseparable growing up. They lived on the same council estate and their parents were friends. They were regularly at each other’s houses. Their families went on holiday together. At school, they even took the same GCSEs! This all changed when her mum found out that one of her extended relatives passed away and left a house to them five thousand miles away in Washington. A few months later, they had packed up and moved to Seattle. Not only had she left England behind, but she had also left her closest friendship behind. Of course, they agreed to keep in touch, but it was only logical that they drifted apart because of being thousands of miles away.

Suddenly, she had a lightbulb moment. She should surprise John with a visit! She recalled seeing one of John’s posts saying he resided on Baker Street. It was merely 15 minutes by tube from her hotel. Plus, it would be good to have a friend in the city after she had left her family and friends in the U.S. Maybe he would also know some pleasant apartments in the London area with decent prices. As she turned her laptop off, she had some doubts niggling away at the back of her mind. What if she was unwelcome? Could she really just turn up out of the blue?

Y/N had spent five minutes pacing up and down outside 221 Baker Street, deliberating on whether she should even go through with it. She knew herself well: she was socially awkward, and she knew she would somehow make a fool of herself just trying to explain her reasoning for coming to see John. Taking a deep breath, she headed into the cosy cafe that was attached to the front of the building. She thought coffee might offer her some much-needed energy and motivation to reunite with John. She took a quick swig, another deep breath, and knocked on the chipped black door firmly. After waiting a few seconds, there was no sign of anyone coming to answer, so in a state of panic, she jogged quickly away from the entrance. Before she could properly run away, she heard the familiar voice of John Watson. He greeted her ‘hello’ and told to her follow him upstairs.

Something was off. They made little small talk on the way up. John only asked her name and even then he didn’t recognise her. Oh god. But why would he let her in if he had no clue who she was? They entered through one last door into a somewhat spacious room. Sunlight shone through two windows on the back wall, illuminating the apartment. John’s flat wasn’t too messy, a bit dusty if anything. Although, the sight of papers and books piled up on various cabinets, shelves and on what was supposedly the dining table, made her want to start faffing about the place and tidy up. Three chairs were positioned in front of the fireplace between two antique bookcases. She was slightly concerned when she saw not only a skull on the mantelpiece, but a knife was also stabbed into several letters. She didn’t really think that John was into this sort of interior design. From what she could remember, John’s bedroom in the council flat was always neat. Not like this apartment. It finally came to her attention that the man she fancied from John’s Facebook post was sitting in the black leather chair, staring intensely at the floor. Great. Now, this was even more awkward. John directed to her sit in the dining chair placed in between the armchairs. John sat down and grabbed a notepad from a side table, pen promptly positioned to jot things down.

Y/N wasn’t sure what was going on, but it sure felt as if she was being interrogated. Sherlock had decided to move on from staring intensely at the floor to her instead. She fiddled with her jacket sleeves nervously. John spoke up:

‘So how can we help you today?’

Y/N coughed awkwardly and stammered:

‘I’m sorry what?’

John responded hesitantly:

‘Aren’t you a client?’

Just as you were about to answer, Sherlock cut in before you could respond.

‘John, you idiot. She’s not a client.’

John scowled at him for a second before returning to face Y/N.

‘So who are you then?’

She quietly and politely explained:

‘I’m Y/N L/N. I don’t know if you remember me, but we grew up together on the Powell Estate. I moved to-

‘Seattle’,

Y/N turned to Sherlock, shocked at how he could know that.

‘- when I was 16 with my family'

John only took a moment to register what she said, followed by his face lighting up with a smile and his voice filled with glee.

‘Wow, you’ve changed so much! I didn’t recognise for a bit there. What a coincidence though, I was passing by our old estate the other day and now you turn up! What are the chances of that!’

Once again, Sherlock interrupted

‘Y/N, don’t listen to John, there are no such things as coincidences.’

Half an hour later, Y/N and John had relocated to a more comfortable position on the black three seater leather sofa by the front door. After learning that there was no case today, Sherlock had left the flat in a sulk. Warms cups of tea in hand, they reacquainted themselves with each other. Y/N learned John returned to London after being shot in the shoulder. He had nowhere to stay, so that’s how he met Sherlock and they’ve been flatmates for several years now. John is now working at a local GP and his flatmate, Sherlock, works as what he insists everyone calls him ‘consulting detective’. John learned that Y/N wrapped up the last two years of school and then went on to study for eight years at dental school. And now that she’s back in the UK for good now. In her head, she began to prepare herself on how to ask John if he knows of any apartments at a reasonable price in the area.

‘John, I need to ask you something.’

Sherlock solved her problem though when he turned up of nowhere causing both of them to jump out of their skins. Hand folded behind his back, he started to analyse Y/N.

‘John, she’s going to tell you that she has nowhere to stay at the moment and if you know of any good places. The hotel room card that’s sticking out of her jean pockets is a good indicator for a start. Plus the fact that she wearing her work shirt when obviously she’s doesn’t have work today. Probably doesn’t have many clothes that are not in her suitcase. ’

Yet again, Y/N was surprised. Her jaw was pretty much on the floor.

John turned to Sherlock, groaning.

‘Sherlock, you’re doing that thing again where you analyse people. For the love of God, please don’t scare Y/N away when I’ve only just got her back.’

Then he turned towards the detective, making a point of grinning slyly when he said:

‘It’s funny though that Sherlock just mentioned that, though. Coincidently, Mrs Hudson, our landlady, just started looking for tenants for the upstairs flat, 221c. She does special rates for us and she would do the same for you as you are a friend of mine. You should absolutely move-in upstairs!’

Read pt 2 here

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