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cherrychilli · 1 year

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Do over

Part 3 of Caught

Steve Harrington x Hopper! Reader smut, AFAB reader

Summary: Hopper finds out that you’ve been dating Steve Harrington in secret and you’re both left to deal with the aftermath of your father's unfortunate discovery.

A/N: This little series was so much fun to write. Thanks to everyone who liked, reblogged, commented and asked to be tagged. Hope you all enjoy the conclusion!

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, breeding kink, P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, pussy spanking, slight daddy kink

Wordcount: 4.8k

Not proofread

“Hopper’s daughter? Are you insane? Like, actually, clinically insane?”

The full body shock is immediate as Robin begins to pace rapidly back and forth, running her hands through her frazzled hair disbelievingly while her eyes double in size and her mouth hangs agape.

It was big news. Steve knew that and if it wasn’t such an urgent problem he would have allowed her more time to wrap her mind around his bombshell of an admission.

“Yeah yeah- enough of that- what do you think I should do? I mean, I can’t just go over there without a plan. I need to map something out. And quick! before he thinks I’m trying to hide”

But it’s no use, his impatient plea falls on deaf ears because she’s still reeling.

“A dead man- I’m talking to a dead man right now”, she rambles to herself before turning on her heal to begin pacing in the opposite direction.

Steve sighs defeatedly, realizing that he can’t rush her into a more coherent state.

This time with more patience, he attempts in a softer tone like one might with a particularly anxious toddler, “alright, why don’t you just take these in the back- get this all out of your system and then come back and help me, please”. He places a stack of newly returned tapes in her arms and directs her towards the back room with a hand pressed gently against her back. Somehow, she manages to find her way despite her unfocused gaze and her repetitive utterances of “I can’t believe this – I just believe this” while shaking her head from side to side.

Getting caught with you, especially in the way that it had happened, by your father, the Chief of Police was...not ideal. But Steve was determined. He cared for you and he needed to make it clear to Hopper that you weren’t some girl he was using for sex.

Steve returns to the counter and fishes out his wallet, in desperate need of a pick me up. Flipping it open, a smile tugs at his lips as he looks down at a picture of the two of you together. Your ‘first date’. The picture was taken at the photo booth two months ago when you’d ran into each other at the county fair. You both knew the other was going to be there with your respective groups of friends – there’d been so much tension between the two of you during the weeks leading up to the fair. Very ‘will they won’t they’ as cliché as it sounded. You’d had your first kiss together that night too. Steve remembers how demure you seemed in your pretty dress as the two of you walked by the tree line, away from your friends and away from the rest of the crowd. Everyone was too preoccupied to notice the way you both looked at each other or the fact that you’d wandered off to be alone. He’d wanted to kiss you so badly but held off thinking it might be too soon.

Everyone had this idea in their heads about you. They all treated you like you were made of glass and the last thing Steve had wanted that night was to scare you off by being too forward. But there was another side to you and that was the night he caught his first glimpse. He was in the middle of relaying a story – something funny Dustin had done – and it wasn’t that you were disinterested in hearing it. You liked hearing how fondly he spoke of the younger boy. You found it incredibly sweet how their unlikely friendship came to be but there was a pressing matter on your mind and you couldn’t resist any longer. Your hands reached out to grasp at the front of Steve’s shirt as you pulled him down for a sudden kiss. It was unexpected but he melts into it quickly, remembering everything from the sound of the fireworks going off in the distance, to the taste of cotton candy on your lips.

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t wait anymore”, you’d said when you finally parted for air.

He realized you weren’t nearly as fragile as people thought you to be.

Quickly checking over his shoulder to make sure Robin hadn’t shuffled back in yet, Steve carefully pulls the picture free from behind the little plastic display to sneak a peek at the one he’d hidden underneath. It was one of the pictures he had taken of you yesterday. He couldn’t resist – he had to have one with him while he kept the others hidden away in his room. Your face wasn’t in it- he’d promised you he’d be careful. It was a shot of your body – stretched out on his bed, still clad in your lacy underwear and peppered with fresh hickeys.

He can feel his cock begin to stir in his pants and he knows better than to get hard at work but he can’t help but let his eyes linger a few moments longer. Who would have known just by looking at you that this was what you’d been getting up to in secret.

Steve’s so busy admiring every curve of your body that he doesn’t take immediate notice when the front door swings open. No one really came in at this hour – kids were supposed to be in school and the adults were usually at work right about now. When he does finally look up it feels like he’s just stepped off the edge of a cliff, wallet slipping from his fingers and landing on the opposite side of the counter.

Jesus, Fuck

Hopper’s mirthless, raging face looms over him, his stare alone somehow willing Steve into fearful submission.

The fear intensifies when Steve’s eyes dart down momentarily to realize that his wallet’s landed right beside Hopper’s boots – thankfully, picture side down.

Steve’s mouth’s completely dry and all he can hear is the sound of his own blood coursing in his ears. Jim Hopper was a big man, by anyone’s standards. Big enough to make even the most arrogant drunk think twice about picking a fight with him. Right now, he seemed impossibly big. Almost mountainous, even.

The look on Hopper’s face told Steve everything he needed to know and now all the boy could do was wait. With no one around to see, there was no way the Chief wouldn’t swing. Right?

He clearly wanted to. What father wouldn’t?

God, this is going to fucking hurt…

“This is major. Huge! There’s no way he won’t kill you, I mean really- “

Like a godsend, Robin strides back towards the counter, only cutting herself off when she sees who’s walked into the store.

Steve takes his first breath since Hopper showed up, relief washing over him. A witness!

He eyes Robin from where he’s frozen in place, a mix of helplessness and desperation evident on his face.

She knew she needed to do something to help her friend from getting his face caved in. Despite being the one who hadn’t messed around with Hopper’s daughter, she struggles to maintain a calm cadence, croaking out a very nervous, “Hey Chief, here to check out the new releases?” to distract him.

Steve’s nothing but thankful for her awkward but sincere effort to break the dangerous tension mounting in the store but Hopper ignores her altogether to turn back to him.

“Whatever you think I might do to you if I ever see you near my daughter again is nothing compared to what I’ll actually do to you, understand?”

Steve nods quickly. Even if he wasn’t afraid for his life he knew there was no convincing Hopper of anything right now. There was no room to carefully explain or reason. There was barely any room to breathe. He’d have to plead his case later.

With one last ire fueled stare at Steve he turns to leave, eyes briefly skimming over Steve’s wallet on the floor before stomping out of the store.

Robin cautiously inches over to Steve, eyes trained on the door, wondering if Hopper might just change his mind and come back.

“Are you okay?”, she finally asks.

“Ask me again in an hour”, he replies weakly, blood yet to return to his pale face.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

You knew this was hard for your father. He had trusted you and you had lied. You should have been honest from the start. Sure, he wouldn’t have been crazy about the idea of his daughter dating Steve Harrington but if you hadn’t tried to hide your relationship and instead, had explained how happy Steve made you, things might have turned out differently.

“He won’t be bothering you again”, was what Hopper said to you when he came back home that morning. You hadn’t even realized he’d been gone. You’d accidentally slept in late, exhausted from having cleaned up your father’s mess last night and your many futile and tearful attempts at trying to convince him that Steve wasn’t the kind of boy he thought he was.

Hopper seemed pleased with himself, having scared the shit out of your boyfriend with not more than a look and a single warning. Instantly, you knew what he’d done and now it was your turn to start yelling. It goes on for hours – you, trying to make it clear that he had no right trying to decide who you can and can’t date and him, trying to shoutexplain that he’d done it for your own good because according to him, all Steve wanted to do was take advantage of you.

“If he’s such a good guy, why didn’t he try to explain himself this morning?!”, Hopper boomed

“You probably didn’t give him the chance! All you do is intimidate!” you shot back defiantly

“He was corrupting you- I needed to keep that pervert away!” he retaliated.

Frustrated and well beyond your limit, you angrily tread to your bedroom and slam the door behind you, locking yourself inside before burying yourself underneath your blankets. It infuriated you. You’re an adult now but this was Jim Hopper. As long as you’re under his roof, he still calls the shots.

You avoid Hopper the next day. Only coming out of your bedroom when you hear the cruiser pull way as he leaves for work. You use that time to fix yourself something to eat and wonder around the cabin, wracking your brain for solutions before going right back inside when you hear him return in the evening.

Hopper can’t find it in himself to apologize because he doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong. The way he sees it, some handsy boy treated you with less respect than you deserved and there was no way he was about to let that continue. But at the same time, he couldn’t stand to have you mad at him.

You’re the only person he’d ever even attempt to make peace with after a bitter fight. He’s just about to knock on your door when the phone begins to ring. With an irritated huff he walks away from your door to answer it. He sighs again, rubbing at his temple as he listens to the caller on the line. “Alright, I’ll be right there”, he grunts back and hangs up the receiver. Grabbing his keys, he’s about to head to the cruiser but he decides to try reaching out to you one more time before he leaves.

He knocks gently against your door. No response. It hurts because he knows that you’re up and not actually asleep – he’d seen your shadow from under the door not very long before the phone had started to ring. Carefully softening his tone, he starts, “Honey…I have to head out again- there’s some sort of commotion down Marley Street- house party that got out of hand – some little sh- someone set a couch on fire and it spread- it’s a mess and I have to get down there”. No response still. “I might be out a while so keep the doors locked…I’ll be back as soon as I can”. Hopper turns to leave but the sound of your room door being unlocked has him whipping back around. You crack open your door just a couple of inches and his face drops when he sees your eyes all red and your cheeks puffy from crying all day. He may not be the calmest person around or the easiest person to reason with but you knew he had done what he did because he cared about you. You didn’t like being mad at him either knowing that it hurt him too. “Be careful, dad”, you reply softly. He smiles back tenderly. “Thanks, hun”. You both part a little somberly but hopeful that the next time you talk, you’re more likely to reach an understanding than another screaming match. You both just needed some time to cool off first.

You decide to clean yourself up with a nice hot shower when you hear the cruiser take off. Returning from the bathroom you remember that you hadn’t been able to call Steve the day before – too busy and exhausted from all the yelling. You dial and wait. When he doesn’t answer fresh tears start to emerge. You try to tell yourself that maybe he’s out with Robin right now but part of you worries that Hopper had managed to get to him with his threats and that he was avoiding your call on purpose. You put the phone back down, sick of listening to it ring.

You retreat under your blankets again, ready to softly cry yourself to sleep and let the cycle repeat itself. You’re about 3 minutes into it when a sudden series of taps against your window make you still your breath. You’re alone. It’s dark. And now you’re very, very scared.

You’re just about ready to scream bloody murder when you recognize the face peering through your bedroom window.

“Steve!”

You throw the blankets off yourself and practically sprint to your window, smiling so hard it almost hurts.

“He’s gone, right?”, he whispers cautiously when you unlatch the window and open it for him.

“He left about 30 minutes ago- something about a fire down Marley Street”, you beam despite the context of the news you’re relaying.

“I saw – I drove past it on my way home from work- probably Jake Ramsey’s fault. That guy’s always passing out flaming shots.” He crawls through your window and straightens out before continuing. “No one got hurt but the whole place is a mess. Drunk kids all out on the lawn, fire department was called. Pretty big – I knew they’d call your dad in and that meant you’d be alone so…”

You throw your arms around him and squeeze, “I tried calling and when you didn’t answer…I’m so glad you’re here”, you mumble into his chest.

“I never went home, babe. I just drove straight here”, he replied, hugging you back with a reassuring squeeze.

You crane your neck back to look up at him, “My dad didn’t scare you off?”

Steve suppresses a nervous laugh at that. Hopper did scare him. Almost effortlessly so but he decides to leave that part out when cups your face with his palm, thumb stroking your cheek lovingly. “Not enough to keep me away from you”, he replies honestly.

He leans down to meet your waiting lips, kissing you softly. It’s a tender, sweet moment but it slowly changes into something more needy when you purposely press your chest up against his and one of his hands trail down to glide along the curve of your ass over your sleep shorts, squeezing your flesh before breaking the kiss to suck at your neck.

“You never got to tell me over the phone- how exactly did he find out?” he makes out against your skin.

“Left a stupid notebook behind in the car- he drove back to the center to give it to me- Loretta told him I didn’t work there”, you reply, eyes fluttering shut.

“Oh?”

“But he didn’t realize yet that it was me he’d caught you with that night- he thought you’d been going around with some other girl- stringing me along during the day- probably didn’t think I’d ever put out for anyone”

Steve scoffs. “Course he didn’t. The Chief of Police’s daughter? Little innocent thing like you? You’d have to be a fucking loon to try and get under her panties”, he pulls at your waistband playfully and lets it snap against your skin.

You giggle before replying. “Remember when we started by using condoms?”, you card your fingers through his hair, occasionally pulling at the soft brown locks when he latches on to a particularly sensitive spot.

“Can’t remember a thing before you let me slip inside without one, babe” he nips at your earlobe.

You blushed remembering the first time you’d done it without one.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

You’d planned it to be a surprise. You didn’t tell Steve that you’d gotten on the pill yet, deciding that you wanted to have a little fun with him first. You tried to contain yourself as you watched him roll on the condom that day before you began to ride him in his bedroom. You staved off your own orgasm until you could tell he was getting close by the way his abdomen clenched and the grip he had on your thighs would tighten. “Stevie, this isn’t working” you’d whined in faux frustration as you ceased bouncing on his cock. You almost felt bad when worry washed over his face and he sprung up from his pillow to look at you face to face. “What’s the matter, angel? need me to be on top?”, voice full of concern.

“it’s not that- I’m just tired of not getting to feel you”, you pouted back.

“Baby, I’m literally inside you right now”, he let out a short disbelieving laugh.

“that’s not what I mean” you pull yourself off of his cock, letting it slip from your hole.

“I need this off- It’s getting in the way”, you point at the condom curled over his dick before you begin pulling it free from his length.

You enjoyed the dumbfounded look on his face a little too much as you tossed the latex aside and held on to his shaft, making a show of rubbing his bare cock along your slick pussy. “Oh, Steve, that feels so good”, you moan out, aiming his tip at your clit and pressing the two very sensitive areas together.

“Shit- baby, hold on-“

You’re not deterred, you can feel how badly he’s tempted to let you ride him raw but you anticipate his hesitation all the same.

“But Stevie, imagine how good it would feel”, you whine back. It’s downright cruel the way you’re teasing him right now but you can rest easy knowing that the torture you’re putting him through is going to be well worth it-and he’d agree.

“Sweetheart- fuck- it’s not that I don’t want to, it’s really not that”, he chokes out

“Please, Steve? I wanna feel all of you”

His resolve is crumbling by the second. “Baby, maybe we should wait until you get on the pill? You know,uh be safe?”, he sounds barely convinced by his own reasoning, phrasing everything like a question.

“So, you’ll fuck me without one if I get on the pill?”, you purr back teasingly to clarify.

The truth was he wanted to fuck you without it and you knew it.

“Yeah baby, I’ll give it to you just how you want it”, he strains.

You pretend to look thoughtful for a moment before shrugging your shoulders with contented smile. “Mm, alright”, you hum back innocently.

His breath hitches when instead of releasing his throbbing dick, you raise your hips and line up his cock with your entrance, pushing down until he sinks all the way inside.

You both moaned at the feeling. Your tight warmth envelopes his dick and you can feel every ridge and inch of it pulsing inside you.

“Fuck fuck fuck – did you- when??”, he chokes out, barely coherent but you knew exactly what he’s asking.

“Last week”, you moan out, a satisfied smile stretching across your face.

“Surprise”

He didn’t last much longer without it but it didn’t matter. You liked knowing the kind of effect your pussy had on him. And he made it up to you 15 minutes later. Thrice.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

You let the memory fade away when he works a hand between your bodies to rub over your clothed cunt.

“W-well- there was one left over. I left it inside the notebook- completely forgot about it- slipped out right in front of him- that’s when he put it all together”, you force out in a whine.

Steve stills his hand over your mound, pulling away from your neck to look down at you with concern.

“So, he knows I’ve been fucking you raw?”

“No…, I don’t think so- he never found my birth control pills”

Steve’s expression relaxes for a moment before he eyes you up and down suggestively. “Hm. Too bad.”

Your eyebrows shoot up at this. “’Too bad’? Isn’t our situation bad enough?”

He only smirks before returning to mouthing at your neck, slipping both hands underneath your shirt to give your breasts some attention.

“How pissed do you think he’d get if I knocked you up?”, he breathes against your ear.

The questions catches you off guard and you don’t know what to say because you’re too busy trying to process the way his words have begun to make your pussy throb.

“If I put a baby in you- got you all nice and big”, he squeezes your tits with both hands for emphasis,

“- couldn’t hide it then- then he’d know- everyone would know”

You let a moan slip at that, dragging your cunt along his thigh for some relief.

“That what you want, baby? Really stick it to your old man if I got you pregnant right under his own roof”

Your head’s swimming but you still manage to whisper-shout back at him, “Steve! We’re too young”

He chuckles, “I know that- I mean eventually”.

“I can tell you want it too” his eyes flick down to where your shorts have begun to turn damp against his jeans.

You see it too and you’re too far gone now to try and deny it.

“Fuck- please just fuck me before he gets back”, you finally give in.

Your shirt lay discarded in the corner of your room and your nipples throb faintly with the memory of how he’d played with and sucked them moments ago, leaving them all pert and puffy. You’re all spread out on your bed underneath Steve, a shaking whimpering mess and he hasn’t even fucked you yet.

“Stevie, please hurry- can’t let him catch us again”

“You know, if you weren’t so busy thinking with this” he brings his open palm down on your clothed clit with just enough pressure to make you yelp, “we wouldn’t be in this mess”.

You relish his faux admonishment. You both know that the two of you share the blame in getting caught but he isn’t wrong. You’d been so needy for him and he liked chiding you for it.

“Needed my cock that bad, angel?” he brings his hand down on your delicate folds again.

“That why you left the condom in your notebook? Smart girl like you- you know better than that”

Smack

“So forgetful…mind all blank now that your pretty little pussy’s being used?”

Smack

“All those years without anyone to touch you and now- “

Smack

“You can’t get enough of it”

“Steeeeve”, you draw out in a desperate whine.

He ignores your plea, “Jesus, how can you sleep in these damn things, they’re so tight. I can see every part of you”.

You’d outgrown this particular pair of shorts a while back. You could still fit into them but he was right, they looked like a second skin on you. He ogles the outline of your cunt through the pale purple cotton and your face warms up when he pinches your pussy lips together. You wiggle your hips and that earns you another slap.

“Take them off- panties too”, he commands.

You do as your told, shimmying both off before he’s forcing you back on your bed with your thighs spread.

He doesn’t say much this time, instead busying himself by landing several hits directly onto your naked cunt until your clit’s all swollen and your labia’s all pink from the impact. You can hear how wet you’ve become with every smack and he just tuts at the sight between your legs.

“So impatient…”, he lets out in a low groan, inspecting your arousal by rubbing your slippery slick between his thumb, index and middle fingers.

The way your thighs twitch and tremble with every slap isn’t lost on him. He’s confident that he could probably get you to cum from this alone and he’s so tempted to do just that but you’re right. As much as he wants to take the time to put his theory to the test, he doesn’t want to risk another encounter with your father just yet.

He brings his hand between your legs again, this time gently rubbing soothing circles into your abused little bud.

“Want me to make it feel better, baby?”, he coos.

Your chest rises and falls with labored breaths as you nod affirmatively, eyes all watery.

He picks you up and carries you away from the bed, sitting you down on the edge of your desk instead. Your college brochures tumble to the floor and your neat little pile of transcripts tip over and messily fan out behind you.

Your legs fall open as he impatiently sheds his clothing too.

Taking one last moment to tease you, he taps the head of his cock against your aching clit until you choke out a pathetic ‘please’.

He takes pity on you then and you both watch as he finally pushes it in, savouring the stretch.

It’s going to be quick and rough, you both know it but you still gasp when he pulls back far enough to begin driving his cock into you in a hurried pace. You can feel yourself beginning to gush, eyes rolling back as you chant his name again and again. Pens and paperclips rattle and roll off your desk, a mess of stationary littering your bedroom floor.

You’re so cockdrunk your unfocused gaze eventually lands on the framed picture at the corner of your desk. You and your father, his arm wrapped around your shoulder and you leaning in close to him as you smile for the picture. Your arm shoots out to turn the picture face down – his face is the last thing you want to see while you’re getting railed and you don’t need another reminder of how pissed he’d be if he knew you were seeing Steve in secret again – in his own house even.

Steve notices your expression and laughs, low and a little dark. “Forget him, baby, I’m your daddy now”.

He picks you up by the waist and you gasp. You’re forced to support yourself with your palms planted flat on your desk behind you and your arms extended. Your legs immediately wrap around Steve’s waist for stability and you’re left to hold on as he grips your ass and begins pounding into you, much harder than before. You squeal at the intensity, desk creaking dangerously beneath you while your tits bounce on your chest.

Your arms ache from having to support your weight but your building orgasm soon captures your complete attention.

“Getting close, angel?”, he grits out with a smirk

“So-so close, daddy”, you pant back out.

Steve groans approvingly when you say it, and he can tell that you like it too because your cunt clenches around him like a vice.

“Daddy, I’m-“ you let your head fall back as the coil in your abdomen snaps and your orgasm ripples through you. Your silky walls clamp sporadically around Steve’s cock and he rests his forehead against your shoulder as he spills into you with a deep grunt, driving into you with short, hard thrusts until he has nothing left to give.

Somehow, you’ve managed to keep your arms outstretched but they start to wobble and he notices, easing you down onto the surface of your desk and pulling out to watch his spend flow back out of your hole. Cum seeps out of you and leaks directly onto your half-completed college application forms but you’re too blissed out to really care. You’ll gladly pick up another set of papers when the feeling starts to return to your trembling legs.

You stare at each other, eyes half lidded, sweaty and panting.

Steve’s the one to break the momentary silence when he reaches out to frame your face with his palm again.

“I wanna be with you- no more sneaking around. I know he won’t like it at first but let’s be upfront with him. Make him understand”.

Your chest blossoms with adoration and you blush under his affectionate stare.

“Maybe at dinner? This Friday? I’ll pick a place” you offer, still a little breathless.

“Yeah” he smiles back at you warmly.

“Some place that gets packed, alright?" he adds.

And then a tinge more seriously so that you understand what he means. “Witnesses, you know?”

#steve harrington smut #stranger things smut #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x hopper! reader

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thebetawolfgirl · 5 months

Text

We’re Just Friends part 3

Pairing: Timmy x Reader

Summary: Y/n shows Timmy how loved he is and how much he means to her!

Warnings: Smut, oral (male receiving) soft Timmy.

We’re Just Friends pt3

It had been three weeks since y/n and Timmy got together officially but had yet to let anyone know about them, Timmy didn’t want anyone to know just yet because he didn’t want y/n to get backlash from her friends and from Stephanie. Y/n knew he also wasn’t ready to share her with everyone yet, and to be honest she didn’t want to share him either for now.

They would tell everyone soon, or people would just find out eventually and they would have to deal with the aftermath, but at the moment they were just enjoying being alone with each other, getting to know each other as a couple.

They knew everything about each other as best friends, now they were learning about each other intimately and sexually. Y/n learned Timmy, although enjoyed being in control sometimes and pleasuring her, he actually preferred being taken care off, which y/n didn’t mind because she loved being on top and then pampering and spoiling him with affection. He was always following her around like a puppy and nuzzling her neck like a small child, but what she also found out which she found adorable was that he a very jealous man.

Like a few nights ago at a friend’s party one of Timmy’s own friends were getting very touchy-feely with y/n and she saw Timmy struggling with the guy touching her, so she removed the guy from her and wrapped her arm around Timmy’s shoulders pulling him closer against her feeling his arms circle her hips.

She ran her fingers through his hair listening to the group talk over each other and used the distraction to whisper soothingly to him how much she loved him and how good he was to her and placed a chaste kiss against his nose feeling him nuzzle against her neck calming slightly.

When they finally got home he dragged her into the bedroom and made her come 4 times, and nearly broke the bed from the force of his thrusts and to be fair she was surprised the police didn’t come kicking down the door expecting a murder.

Afterwards he wouldn’t let her out of his sight, he was genuinely worried his friend would ambush her, and she would go with him.

Y/n hated that he was so insecure, he couldn’t believe she had chosen to be with him, she wanted to rip Stephanie’s spine out and strangle her with it. She broke his confidence.

So tonight she was going to spoil him with so much love he wouldn’t know what to do with it all.

She had spent all day in the kitchen cooking his favourite dishes, from the soup his grandmother made him to cheer him up as a boy, to the beef casserole his dad would make on Sundays and she even baked his favourite dessert from scratch.

She had also rented some of his favourite movies, even some of the French ones he would watch with his grandmother and made a playlist of his favourite songs as background music.

After everything was ready she went and got dressed, putting on the Chanel dress he had bought for her just because and put on the Love Necklace he had recently bought for her and looked at her reflection in the mirror before hearing him knock on the door.

He jogged up the stairs to her apartment and knocked on the door at 6pm on the dot holding a bottle of her favourite wine and the biggest bouquet of blood red roses he could find. She had told him she had a surprise for him tonight and was nervous about what it was, he had been raking his mind all day what it could possibly be.

He reached the door and could smell delicious food and- Hang on, was that his grandma’s famous soup he could smell?

The door opened and he was greeted by the most beautiful human being he had ever seen and she was smiling at him and the place was bathed in warm candlelight and the aroma of food reached his nose.

‘Surprise!’ She practically whispered against his ear enveloping him in a tight hug before taking the wine from his still hands as he stood in shock looking around at the set candlelit table.

‘Wha-How- What’s going on?’ He whispered walking through the door, letting her guide him to the table.

‘This is just to show you how loved you are, and how much I love and appreciate you. You’re so special to me and that is what tonight is about.’ She smiled pushing him to sit down before leaning down to peck his lips gently.

‘B-but… Why?’ He asked bewildered stammering looking up at her.

‘I have realised the negative effects Stephanie has had on your confidence. I was too blind to see it, and wasn’t able to stop it. So by the end of tonight, you will never doubt your worth again, and you will know how loved you are, and how much I love you.’

He wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her close burying his face in her stomach as she ran her fingers through his hair gently.

‘Time for the starter.’ She held his face wiping his eyes.

‘Is that my grandma’s soup I smell?’

He asked as he watched her scurry to the kitchen to serve the first dish.

She nodded smiling ladling into two bowls and bringing them over carefully.

‘It might not be as good as your grandma’s recipe but I tried my best.’

She sat down across from him as he poured the wine and raised their glasses.

‘To the most wonderful woman on this earth.’

‘To the most wonderful man on this earth!’

They clinked glasses and before he tried his soup and closed his eyes tasting it and hummed ‘Mmm tastes like home.’

She smiled widely happy he was enjoying it.

They made light conversation while they ate their soup, after the soup bowls were cleared away, she got the second dish plated up and carried it over to him as he looked wide eyed at the dish.

‘My dad’s Sunday Casserole???’

She nodded smiling as she sat across from him, he stood up and leaned across to catch her lips in a long kiss.

‘You’re an angel! I don’t know what I did to deserve all of this but I am no longer complaining.’

‘Oh it’s not over yet, my love. Far from it!’ She smiled as they dug in to the casserole and he hummed again in satisfaction.

They finished the second course and y/n put the dishes into the sink,

‘Okay, I hope you have some room for dessert.’

‘Always!’

She giggled shaking her head, that boy would never pass up dessert no matter how full he was.

She plated up the key lime tartar with the ice cream on the side and sat it in front of him smiling as his eyes went wide.

‘Seriously?? You remembered?’

He asks incredulously as she smiled at him and rolled her eyes at him ‘Of course, you wouldn’t eat anything else for a month after your mom let you try a bit of hers during the cruise.’

He let out a laugh remembering the memory.

‘I’ve never seen anyone get hyper off of fruit before. I mean, it’s fruit.’ She frowned genuinely looking confused before smiling.

They ate dessert in comfortable silence as Timmy just looked at her and admiring the woman across from him, she had done all of this for him, to prove to him he was worthy of love and to be loved.

With Stephanie he had to work hard for her affections, but with y/n it was literally effortless he didn’t need to do anything, he didn’t have to lift a finger, she gave her love so openly without question or without expecting anything in return.

She put the plates in the sink and walked back over to him and took his hands helping him to stand up and leaned up to peck his lips which he returned deepening it before she pulled away making him whine trying to bring her back.

She smiled pressing her fingers to his lips, ‘another surprise, my love.’

He blinked at her and nodded and followed her to the living room and sat on the couch pulling him to sit with her. She held up the DVDs in front of his face smiling.

He read each title and picked the French title out looking at it. ‘I first watched this with my grandma, I was sent home from school unwell and my parents were working and she came to pick me up, she put this on for me, she told me how she would watch it with her grandmother when she was feeling unwell.’ Y/n set the rest of them on the coffee table and pulled him in for a hug holding him tight and stroking his hair. ‘We can spend all day tomorrow watching these, for now we can go to bed, how about that?’

He nodded and sat up and leaned forward to catch her lips and she deepened the kiss this time, he pulled her onto his lap gripping her hips tightly, she wrapped her arms around his neck and ran her fingers through his hair making him sigh against her lips.

‘Bedroom.’ He gasps against her and she stood up taking his hand and guided him to the bedroom.

She stood in front of and slowly undressed him beginning with his shirt, before slowly sliding it off his shoulders. She grabbed the remote and put his special playlist onto the first song and continued to undress him reaching for his jeans unbuttoning them.

He raised his hands behind her and unzipped her dress before removing it down her shoulders to reveal her lingerie, ‘Fuck!’

He cursed seeing what she was wearing, she was wearing his favourite colour: Navy Blue covered in black lace, he could feel his throat go dry and his cock grow against his jeans as he gulped looking at every inch of her before looking into her eyes.

She was smiling up at him as he took her hands in his, she shook her head pulling her hands away and pushing him gently onto the bed before crawling on top of him and kissing him slowly while straddling him, feeling his hands hold her hips.

‘This is about you tonight baby.’

He nodded and watched her strip from her lingerie before climbing on to him again and began kissing along his jaw and down his neck before moving to the other side and repeating her actions, he lay his head back closing his eyes and sighed contently as she kissed across his chest and downwards before licking and gently sucking each nipple, making his hips rise from the bed grounding against hers, she nipped along his rib cage on either side and moving her body down his and kissing over his hips making him hiss.

‘Y/n,’ he whispered her name as she reached between his legs and licked up each thigh hearing him grip the headboard tightly while letting out a harsh moan.

She looked at him as she took his cock into her mouth and sucked teasing the tip with her tongue making him gasp as he lifted his head to look back at her his green eyes black with hunger.

She began to move her head up and down taking him as deep as she could while sucking hard and using her tongue, while keeping eye contact with him.

He raised his hips as he groans from the back of his throat, while he gripped onto the headboard until his knuckles were white, she moved her hand and teased his balls, and gently squeezed them until he came in her mouth, ropes and ropes of his seed shooting down her throat, he watched with wide eyes as she took every drop down her throat before pulling off him and climbing back up to him with a smile and kissed him letting him taste himself on her tongue.

He whimpered kissing her back as she straddled him again deepening the kiss and placed his hand on her chest where her heart beat raced. He sat up wrapping his arms around her waist and lay his head against her chest listening to her heartbeat calming his own, she lifting his head and pecked his lips repeatedly when he lifted her by her hips and lowered her down on his once again hard cock, she gasped feeling him fill her to the hilt and began to rock her hips back and forth against him slowly letting her head fall back.

He leaned forward kissing all over her neck holding her close against his body as they rocked against each other at a steady pace, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and began to pick up pace, he lay back against the pillows pulling her on top of him breathing raggedly against her shoulder as she rode him harder while keeping the slow pace.

He raised her hips to meet hers gripping her body feeling his fingers dig into her skin, thinking he could never let her go now. Ever!

He moved his head kissed her all over her face he could reach before crushing his lips against hers hungrily as they both picked up speed at the same time.

He listened to her moans as his dick hit a particular spot only he could reach according to y/n, he thrust harder against her before flipping her onto her back and slamming his hips into hers harder causing the bed to rock back and forth rapidly as he buried his face into her neck and held her body against his, scream out against his shoulder as she dragged her nails lightly down his back. He groaned and hit that spot over and over again before the both came in a tangle of sweat and limbs and bedsheets and ragged breathing.

He kissed along her neck as she brushed his hair from his forehead panting heavily.

He lay his head on her shoulder blinking up at her as she smiled at him and ran her fingers down his back making him sigh closing his eyes contently as she leaned down and kissed his forehead gently.

He reached up and captured her lips in a deep open kiss which she returned with a smile.

They broke apart and he wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck before lowering his head to rest his head against her breasts as she pulled the duvet over them holding him tightly against her body and fell asleep.

@sufferingstarlight

@gatoenlaciudad

@kteezy997

@lixzey

@tchalamess

@tchalamss

@mel-vaz

#lil timmy tim #timothèe chalamet #timothée hal chalamet #timmy x reader #timothee chalamet smut #timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet #timmy fanfics #timmy fluff #timothee chalamet imagine

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recreationalfanfics · 1 year

Text

Yandere Adventurer vs. Yandere Femme Fatale Drabble

Based off of these Yandere Adventurer and Yandere Femme Fatale Hcs. Big Question: Which one of them could get it?

You watch in shock as your co worker is being held by two officers, tears running down his face as he SWEARS he hadn't stolen those artifacts, but his pleas fell onto deaf ears. Your standing in front of the University doors, watching as everything went down along with everyone else, and unsure of what to make of the situation. It had been such a perfectly normal morning too, you and Richard talking about things from favorite historical events, to the most ridiculous ones that sound too unhinged to be real yet they actually happened. Then the police barged in, accusing him of stealing one of the relics that went missing when Jesse brought them back.

Jesse Reeves was an amazing human being, in your eyes. Not only was he smart (depending on the situation), he was a charming yet brave and daring man who had been to all types of places. Searching for lost treasures in the most wild parts of the world, stopping villainous plots and organizations in the Artic, and even discovering lost ruins in the deepest parts of the oceans. Now, he held the not-so-impressive title of being your best friend after meeting him during a grand opening of a new exhibit he brought back for the University.

You don't know how you became friends with someone as amazing as him but you weren't complaining! And you thought you had a friend in Richard but now, as you watched him vehemently try to deny stealing the artifacts and get shoved into a cop car, yelling and kicking and trying to break open the window with his shoulder, you weren't sure what to think of him.

Jesse, on the other hand, leaned against the brick wall entrance with his arms crossed, and wearing a smug grin on his face.. When Richard saw him, his eyes were filled with betrayal but soon flared with anger as he yelled muffled cusses towards the blonde man, but no one could hear him. Nevermind believe him that THE Jesse Reeves would steal something from the museum when he had loyally been bringing back relics for them for ages, nevermind to frame a boring old co-worker like Richard who hasn't even worked a full month at the university. Yes, no one would believe Richard if he told them, but they really should've.

With a taunting wave, Jesse then stood up straight and walked over to you, reverting to his more bubbly personality as he stood next to you.

"Now, what in the wide world happened here?" He asked, a very convincing clueless look on his face.

- Yandere Adventurer now realizes the full extent of his feelings for you after that stupid co-worker is away and taken care of. He doesn't just love you, he's completely enamored by you! Out of all the treasures in the world, you're the most precious one he's come across, and he's decided that he wants to keep you to himself.

- Yandere Adventurer does get annoyed when you say that you'll miss Richard though. Why? Yeah, he might've lightened your workload but that was just about all he was useful for, at least, in Jesse's eyes he was.

"I mean, I didn't expect HIM to have been behind the theft. He seemed genuinely excited to work here." You wondered aloud, still unsure what to think about the events that transpired in the early morning.

"I bet he was, probably 'cuz he was fixin' to get his fingers on those artifacts." Jesse suggested, a bit of a scowl on his face. You assumed its because he's upset that he had such a hard time finding the thief only for it to be revealed it was someone who worked in the same department as the both of you. However, that wasn't why he was scowling. He just wished you'd talk about anything OTHER than Richard but, no, it turns out that bum was still on your mind, "Look, darlin', maybe we should think about something else besides good ol' Richie. Somethin' like...my next adventure."

You groan when you hear that, "Shit, I forgot! You're going to leave for Venezuela next week! Which means I'm handling the archives by myself again...and Richard just started reorganizing the documents too!"

Stop talking about him already.

"Actually, ya might not have to worry about the archives for a while there," Jesse began with a playful smile. Raising a curious eyebrow, you tilt your head a little, "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean...I've been thinking about it and I was wondering if ya might wanna go adventuring with me this trip," Your expression changes and he can see the hesitancy in your eyes, "NOW! NOW! It ain't gonna be as long as my other adventures and it might not be as dangerous but even if it was, I wouldn't let anything bad happen tah ya! S'just, you know, I like my adventures and I like you...so it'd just...it sure would make my day if ya at least considered it!"

You bit your lip anxiously and looked to the side. You were a historian but you were more of the "doing research on the computer in an air controlled environment" kind of historian, not the kind that went through death traps in nearly collapsing temples that had ancient curses on them. Like Jesse was.

However, the hopeful look in his sky blue eyes makes you feel guilty. You want to deny his offer but could you, in good conscience, dim that glow in his eyes. In fact, Jesse was COUNTING on that. You were too much of a sweetheart to let him down and Jesse knew that not even you were able to resist his charm.

"C'mon, it'll be like a vacation! You'll get tah see so many different waterfalls, tons o' great good, an' you'll get tah get a little up close and personal with history! Shoot, we can both have our names on the discovery plague an' everythin'! Wouldn't that be cool?"

"Jesse, I-"

"Both of you, in my office. Now." The headmaster of the University, and your boss, interrupted.

Even if you never saw eye to eye with him before, you were happy that he had intervened now and went with him. Jesse, however, was less than pleased. Still he followed along with you into the hallway, although there was a scent that hung in the air, one that smelled eerily familiar to him.

Yandere Femme Fatale who had been stalking you for a while, actually. Not long enough to know you were friends with her former flame but enough to memorize your schedule by heart and enough to fall deeply in love with you.

She had applied for the job of Archivist assistant, only to be enraged when she found out someone else was chosen. Oh well, she could just plan out their death but first things first, she'll have to kill the employer who had put a hit on you in the first place. The reason why this guy wanted you dead?

Apparently he couldn't take rejection well.

It sickened Yandere Femme Fatale, the way how entitled men think they could have whoever they wanted just because they inherited some pocket money from daddy. Don't worry, darling, she'll make sure you'll never have to worry about them now that she's there.

"Jesse, (Y/n). This is Scarlette Le Claire, she will be the new Archivist assistant."

Jesse froze up upon hearing her name. You, however, were entranced by the woman sitting in one of the seats facing the principals desk. She was applying lipstick to her plush lips when her dark eyes noticed you from her compact mirror. She shut it before standing up.

God, she was tall and even more gorgeous.

She extended a gloved hand in front of you, one you were nervous to take because of how expensive it looked, but you didn't want to be rude.

"Hello, it's nice to meet you." She greeted warmly, her voice sounding like honey to your ears and God, she smelled so nice.

Jesse, however, was far from entranced. He knew personally that wherever that woman went, someone was bound to get hurt. Misery and death followed her wherever she went and he wasn't gonna let any of that touch you. He also was uneasy about the look in her eyes, he recognized it from all the times she chose money over him. Greed. Insatiable greed that will never be enough for her.

He didn't like that she was looking at you like that.

"Now, (Y/n), I'm going to need you to step outside with me. Since you'll need to train Ms. Le Claire."

You're too hypnotized by the woman in front of you that you don't respond or react, at least, not until Jesse whistles to capture your attention. With a confused "huh?", you turn and look at him and he points to the door where your boss was waiting rather impatiently. You apologize and run out, taking one last look at the woman and giving her a sheepish smile. The moment you walk out the door, Jesse is glaring her down.

"Got' a lotta nerve coming here, Scarlette. If ya got a problem with me, we can settle it elsewhere."

Scarlette rolled her eyes and fluffied her hair, making sure it looked good for when you came back.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Jesse. Not everything is about you." She scoffs. Jesse narrows his eyes and walks up to her, "Then who is it about?"

Scarlette's eyes flicker towards the door, where she can see your silhouette talking and nodding. Then she looks back at Jesse, who didn't even have to look back to see who she was looking at.

"You ain't laying a hand on (Y/n), ya hear?"

"And what if they come to me willingly?"

"They won't." Jesse argued, not really believing in his own words. He saw how you looked at her, the way you looked at him the first night he met you.

Scarlette didn't respond, she simply smiled as her eyes flickered towards the door again, patiently waiting for when you'd come back in. After being informed that you'd have to train Scarlette, Jesse's offer to Venezuela immediately went to the back of your mind as you excitedly told her you'd show her around. She hooks her arm with yours, not even bothering to pay attention to Jesse anymore.

Like she said, this wasn't about him.

This was about making you hers.

#Yandere Femme Fatale #Yandere Adventurer #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #tw yandere #fem yandere #yandere female x reader #yandere female #yandere male #male yandere #male yandere oc #yandere male x reader #male yandere x reader #female yandere oc #Oc: Jesse Reeves #Oc: Scarlette Le Claire

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lethalchiralium · 1 year

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Hello! I hope you are well and having a fantastic day!

Can you, if you're alright with it, make this a oneshot separately for Ghost, Soap, and König and how they would comfort their S/O in this scenario.

May this be an x Fem!Reader where the reason that Y/N joined the military was to get away from her abusive family, and when she first joins the force, she's very quiet and sticks to herself, obviously being shy around either one of the boys. Eventually, they both start talking, and once she gets comfortable around him, she turns into an extrovert and tells him many things with him lovingly listening to her.

Maybe she could also tell him about how, with her family, she couldn't tell them anything because she was either told not to talk or they wouldn't listen, in other words, shut her out. Making her feel like she couldn't talk to anyone.

(You don't have to write it if you don't want to.)

You’ll Understand One Day | John “Soap” MacTavish x F!Reader

a/n: i used artemis for this because she can be seen as you! i’m also sorry this took so long i got distracted (AGAIN)

warnings: vague mentions of neglect, abuse. cussing, soap being soap and having a crush

summary: Soap has a special interest in Laswell’s protégé, Artemis.

Soap would have never ever believed that she was this talkative when he first met her. He was never a man to go out and catch feelings, it was more like those feelings immediately grabbed him and put him in a chokehold - that’s exactly what happened because of her.

Laswell’s protégé, Artemis, was a force to be reckoned with. She had been lent to the 141 for extensive tactical training by Laswell, and when she stepped off the plane, Soap internally swooned - though he swore to himself never to tell her. He had walked up, shaken her hand and talked her ear off about the whole base.

It was very early on that all of the 141 noticed that she almost never spoke, only ever responded to orders and comms. If anyone tried to approach her, she’d back away like a scared dog. That put Soap off - what if she had a mission go wrong and she’s scared of attachment? What if her last team didn’t treat her well, that’s why she’s scared of him?

Tried to bump into her at the water fountain, she ducked away as soon as she noticed him. He even sent Gaz to talk to her for God’s sake, she scurried away like a mouse. The only person she didn’t run away from was Price, which was odd to Soap - almost everyone was scared of Price. His poor little heart thought she had heart eyes for Price, but oh, he was dead wrong.

He asked his Captain about the relationship, Price rolled his eyes and said that Artemis wasn’t used to being with a team that was like a family. She didn’t want Price to think she wasn’t capable of doing her job, so she was like his shadow.

Soap internally swiped the sweat off his brow, but he was still confused. Family problems? Artemis? No! She was too nice for that, too skittish, too good for that. He didn’t want to think about it, he didn’t want to believe it was real. So he made a point to get her to talk to him, no matter what it took.

He walked up to her at the water fountain and loudly asked her a question. “So, Arty, you know why the strawberry was cryin’?”

She looked bewildered, eyes widened and back straightened as if to make her look bigger, but it didn’t put Soap off.

“…No.”

“‘Cause he was in a jam!”

Her eyes narrowed, eyebrows furrowed. “Funny.”

“You like jokes then?” He smiled. “Price gets all his jokes off me, the bastard.”

She just stared at him.

He stared right back, his smile reached his eyes. “I hope you’re not stealin’ jokes from Price, you can just get’m from me!”

She nodded and walked away.

It took her only a couple more weeks for her to not move away from the fountain when he approached her, she was no longer like a scared deer at the shore of a lake - she only stared at him as he filled up his water bottle.

“Ya know why the coffee filed a police report?” He screwed the cap back on, his smile still huge. It’s like he couldn’t make it go away when she was around.

“No.”

“‘Cause it got mugged!” He chuckled, his smile got impossibly bigger.

There was a crack of a grin on her face as she spoke, “What’s the most terrifying word in nuclear physics?”

His eyebrows furrowed, raking his brain for an answer while still being shocked that she was talking to him. “Uh, dunnoe.”

“Oops.”

Soap let out a bark of laughter, almost dropping his water bottle. “S’good one, Arty!”

The smirk on her lips lit up his heart again, the infatuation only getting worse.

After that day, he’d seemed to find her everywhere. He used to spend hours looking for her, just to check on her, but never find her. It’s like she is making sure he sees her whenever she’s near - he smiles about it. He’s always smiling.

She approached him more, telling him jokes more often; that evolved into asking him questions about his life, his hobbies, his favorite gun to use. Soap was happy to oblige, babbling on and on about his large family and the trouble he used to get in as a ‘wee lad’. And at a certain point, something changed - she began to answer his questions. Soap was getting confused more often at what had opened, what had changed in her pretty little head for her to talk to him with more than the same ten words she had for months before.

It was a Saturday night in his Glasgow apartment when there was a knock at his door. The Glasgow Celtics game was on, he was pissed off that they were losing and texting his mom about it. She was sure to be watching, so he knew it wasn’t her at his door. His sister lived in Edinburgh, and was known for announcing her presence by calling him six different times on her way to Glasgow - it wasn’t her either. And it definitely wasn’t any of his team, he knew how almost everyone knocked.

He hopped over his couch, almost slipping on the hardwood because of his Celtics socks that he wore every game he watched. He was grumbling to himself, upset about the game, that it was almost over and that they were losing. He ran a hand through his mohawk, quick to grab his front door handle and pull it open, “This better be good-“

He shut his mouth, eyes wide as Artemis stood in front of him - soaked to the bone, eyes red and her dufflebag on her shoulder. He opened his mouth again, then shut it quickly. For a blabber mouth, as Price says, he did not have one word to say as she clenched the handle of her duffle.

“I didn’t mean to bother you.” Were her first words, nervously teetering on her feet as she then sniffled. “I just- Ah, fuck,” One hand went up to her eyes, rubbing at them before continuing, “Can-Can I crash here?”

Soap was bewildered, to say the least. The girl he was pining over was at his door step, soaked and in tears, and he felt anger rise in his chest. Who would force her to walk in the rain? Who made her cry? Come to think of it, he never even asked if she had a boyfriend. Eejit, eejit, eejit! He was mentally kicking his own ass as he swallowed thickly, answering, “Y-Yeah, c’mon.”

He looked ridiculous, he remarked to himself, wearing a ratty 141 t-shirt with MACTAVISH on it and a pair of bleach stained Celtics sweatpants. He moved out of the way, but she had kneeled to untie her boots. He watched her, noticing that she had to have been in the rain for at least half an hour, since everything she wore was dripping water into the carpet of the hallway. As soon as she shucked off her boots, she walked in, setting them beside the door before standing up straight again. Soap hadn’t closed the door yet, still in shock that she was in front of him - in a soaked university sweatshirt he didn’t recognize and jeans. She glanced out the door before looking down at her clothes, then back up to Soap. “Could I use the shower? And some clothes?”

The Scot licked his lips as a way to try and wake him from his stupor, but it barely worked. “Down-Down th’ hall on th’ right, ah will git some clothes fer ya.”

She was gone then, walking down the hallway - leaving wet footprints since your socks were soaked too. All Soap could do was close his front door, lock it, and mentally kick himself in the ass. If he’d known you were coming, he would have at least brushed his teeth - and he remembered the pile of dirty laundry in his bathroom. He was going to stub his toe on purpose.

He heard the lock click on his bathroom and immediately jumped into action, moving towards his kitchen and putting away plates that had been clean for a few days, just sitting on the rack. He filled the kettle with water, placing it on his old stove and turning it on high. He then moved away, rushing to his living room and picking up his many empty bags of crisps. He threw them away before moving to his cramped laundry room next to the bathroom, hearing the water turn on as he opened the small cabinet he had to old sweatshirts and sweatpants, all of the sport and military merchandise type.

He grabbed one of his larger sweatshirts and a pair of sweats that he figured was close to her size, knowing that she probably would have felt more comfortable with him not seeing her body through his clothes she would wear. He wanted to respect her space. He turned off the light in his laundry room, noting that the shower had turned off as soon as he closed the door, he set the green and blue set of sweats in front of the bathroom. Soap then hightailed himself back to his kitchen, mind still flying thousands of miles a minute.

The kettle on his stove was beginning to whistle and he almost tripped on himself as he moved to the stove, pulling the well-loved kettle from the hot element to the cold one. He then opened his cabinets, grabbing a box of his best tea and two of his cleaner mugs. He settled them on the counter, putting the tea in the mugs just as he heard her open the bathroom door, before shutting it again. He took the mugs to his coffee table before making the smart decision to bring his small jar of sugar and his bottle of milk too, settling them on the table while he heard the door open for the final time. He looked back to his TV, trying not to seem like a creep and seeing that the Celtics were still losing. He heard her walk into the living room, he reached forwards and muted the TV as she sat on the opposite side of the couch.

“Made ya tea.” Soap looked to her, his heart pounded in his ears as he observed her in his clothes. H/C hair dropped water onto the sweatshirt as she reached forwards, putting sugar and milk in her mug.

“Thanks.” She murmured as she took the warm mug into her hands, taking a sip and sitting back. Soap wasn’t too worried about his own tea as he was why she was here.

“Do ye wanna talk about it?”

The look is her eyes almost confused Soap, she mumbled, “What?”

“Ye don’t hav’ tae talk about it if ye don’t wantae, I-I’m just curious as to how you even knew whaur I lived.”

“Ah. I-uh called Price.”

“Oh.”

She reached forwards and placed her mug down on the table, wiping her mouth before whispering a soft, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to invade your privacy.”

He shook his head, settling his hands together and knitting his fingers. He was trying not to explode. To be honest, he had imagined her coming to his apartment on very different terms - after a date, maybe just a sleepover or just to hang out. Soap’s whole world was spinning; the girl he’s pined over for months is sitting in his apartment, crying, and he’s daydreaming over her. Get yerself together, yeh fockin’ muppet! “Uh-no! No, no- I wasn’t really doin’ anythin’.” He paused for a moment before adding, “Important. Anythin’ important, meh team was losin’ anyway.”

“Well, I just-“

Brrrrg! His phone began to ring on the coffee table next to the TV remote, his eyes glanced down to it, seeing that it was his sister. She stopped what she was saying, mumbling, “It’s okay, you can take the call.”

Soap took his phone in his hand, shutting it off before putting it back on his coffee table. If his sister really needed something she could call their dad. He looked back to Artemis, confused as to why she looked as if she was going to cry again. He reached his hand out to comfort her, she hesitantly took it. “What’s wrong? What’d I do?” She shook her head, hands going to her eyes as she sat back on the couch, clearly upset. He felt awkward then, not sure what he had done to make her cry. “Arty-“

“Thank you.” Her voice wavered as she laughed a little, leaning her head back as she wiped away her tears. “Thank you.”

“What’d I do?” Soap questioned again, curious.

She sniffled, settling against the arm of the couch as she whispered, “You just declined a call to listen to me.”

He blinked rapidly at you. Was she serious? “Well, yeh. I think whatever you say’s important.”

Her hands dug into her eyes, sniffling a little louder before her hands unceremoniously dropped to her legs. She then brought her feet up onto the couch, bringing her knees to her chest as she could rest her head on them - keeping her gorgeous face looking towards him.

His big Scottish heart felt like he was doing laps with Ghost, running as fast as he possibly could while Ghost barely broke a sweat. He almost condensed himself into remembering his first crush in primary school, how his heart beat so fast and so hard that he thought he was dying. His mum just laughed about it, telling him that he should never be scared of love.

“An-And if ya wanna talk about whatever happened, ‘m all ears. ‘Cause my ears are really big ‘n always have been, ever since I was a wee lad ‘n-“ He smacked his own hand over his mouth, the giggle that escaped her lips made his stomach do a flip. It was ethereal, like an angel had possessed her. No, he concluded, she is an angel. She’s Artemis, she’s Y/N. Y/N is an angel.

With her arms wrapped around her legs, she murmured, I-uh, my family doesn’t really like me. And they don’t really let me talk all the time… ‘n I just didn’t want to sit there and be silent for another week…”

Everything came crashing down.

How could they even dare to damage an angel like you? Your voice is the only thing I want to hear for the rest of my days, you’re so witty and smart and I will never deserve you. And I know for a fact that you don’t deserve them and they do not fucking deserve you.

“Well, you can say whatever you want to me. I’ll never shut ya up, but you might have to shut me up ‘cause I’m loud and obnoxious and I talk too much-“

“No, Johnny.” Her hand grabbed the one flailing about, her fingers pressed into his pulse point. “You’re perfect.”

For the first time in John MacTavish’s life, he was speechless.

———

#cod john mactavish #john mactavish #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish x f!reader #john mactavish x fem!reader #johnny mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 years

Text

Mysterious and Spooky 🖤🕷

can I request something like reader is a new student at Hawkins and they have a personality like Morticia Addams & Eddie falls in love with them immediately?

Requested by anon. 🖤 I hope you enjoy.

Some quotes are by Morticia and I've written them in a different font so you know what ones they are ❤

Likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated! ❤🙂 I do not give anyone permission to copy my work.

🎃

Talk at Hawkins High School was rife about the new girl y/n. Half the students were fascinated by her and the other half were terrified.

Spooky, kooky and a little mysterious she joined Hawkins in October and set the gossip train alight.

The aura she held was one of confidence, she had a quick wit and entranced those who she met.

Fred had told a sceptical Nancy he was sure she was a witch. Nancy proceeded to call him an idiot.

Jason was torn between thinking she was hot and being seriously spooked out by her while Chrissy was an absolute sweetheart and befriended her straight away.

She walked right into the cafeteria on her first day composed and ignoring the talk that was amped up as she walked over to join Chrissy who had kindly invited her to sit at her table.

Talk ranged from her black knee-high boots, lacy black dress and spider earrings to what lipstick made her lips look that red to other ruder whispers.

"Why do you wear all black. Don't you own any other colours?". Stacy one of the cheerleaders whispered to her and Chrissy told her off for being so rude.

"Black is such a happy colour don't you think? Delightful even". Stacy blinks stunned and she smirks amused.

Well, she did ask.

"I prefer yellow, it's the colour of sunshine". Stacy retorted stifly and y/n looks at her aghast.

"Oh, how frightfully dull. You poor thing". Stacy stares at her stunned and y/n has enough of her gawking and turns away engaging Chrissy in conversation instead.

She was very unaware of the curly brown-haired boy who was gaping at her. If hearts could come out of his eyes they would.

As soon as Eddie spotted her for the very first time he fell in love. He had never seen someone so beautiful in his life.

For the first time in a long time. He was rendered silent and practically floated over to the table she was at, dropping on his knee and gazing at her.

"Jesus H Christ, you're what I've been looking for all my life". She grins.

"So dramatic darling. I love it. My name is yn. What's yours?". She gave him her preferred hand and he kissed it gently.

"Eddie, Eddie Munson and sweetheart you are the queen in my dreams".

Y/n loved to listen to the rumours about herself, she particularly liked the one about her being a witch (She wishes) and that she liked to put a spell on unsuspecting suitors.

Ridiculous of course but the things people liked to believe were outlandish at times.

It could sometimes get annoying though, so she dressed all in black and liked to wear scarlet red lipstick, ruby red nail polish and loved all things spooky and macabre.

What was the big deal? Was she really the most exciting thing in this small town that was meant to be strange itself?

Of course, she knew about the rumours here, missing kid disappears for a week then comes back, spooky woods, possessions, a girl with superpowers that involved psychic abilities specifically telekinesis, monsters and secret experiments.

Just because half the town liked to keep their head in the sand others didn't. Her mother who loved all things supernatural and otherworldly just like she did had gotten all the gossip from her father who joined the police team.

One person whose attention she did love though was Eddie Munson. The minute they met it was like it was fated. Of that, she was sure of.

Speaking of which she spotted Eddie who was surrounded by his sheeples as he liked to call them - the freshman boys Dustin, Mike and Lucas.

"Hi, beautiful". He drops to his knees takes her hand and kisses it, trailing feather light kisses up her arm then pulling her in for a long passionate kiss.

The minute she met Eddie when he wandered over to where she sat with Chrissy on her first day she fell for him.

They had been joined at the hip ever since.

"How's my princess?".

"Oh, my love, this morning I looked out and it was so stormy, the lightning and thunder. The rain? All gloomy and wild, It is rather romantic don't you think? I love it"

He smiles indulgently and kisses her forehead. Others watched them as they passed but the two of them paid the people no mind.

Y/n cups his cheek as he watched her with reverence.

"I love you, my princess". He murmurs into her ear and she grins.

“You are dearer to me than all the bats in all the caves in the world. I love you to my love”

The three boys stared at each other used to how Eddie and y/n acted but sometimes they were caught off guard.

The two of them really were perfect for each other, soulmates if you will.

In this life and in eternal life too

🖤🎃🍁

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x female reader #spooky reads

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ssa-atlas-alvez · 1 year

Text

Whumptober Day 25 (BAU X y/n Hotchner)

No. 25 SILENCE IS GOLDEN

Lost Voice | Duct Tape | “You better start talking.”

Warnings: cold/flu, illness

Word count: 1591

Please let me know if I’ve missed any warnings

”Baby Hotch,” Emily smirked, “Adult Hotch wants to see you,” You groaned lowly, coughing when it tickled your throat. You gave a weak sniff.

“Old Hotch can annoy me greatly sometimes,” You huffed before standing up and making your way to your brother’s office.

You gave another sniff and swallowed, wincing at the pain in your throat before you opened the door.

“Agent Hotchner Junior reporting for duty sir,” You grinned, hoping he didn’t notice that your voice was slightly deeper than usual.

“Go home, (Y/N),” Aaron said with a sigh, he pushed his paperwork to the side as he looked at you.

“I’m not ill,” You responded, voice deeper than usual, thick will the cold you currently had. "I've just got a bit of a tickle in the back of my throat," Aaron gave a deep sigh.

"You're ill,"

"Nu-uh!" You replied, sniffing slightly. "I'm perfectly fine,"

"Go home,"

"I'm not ill, I'm fine," You and Aaron stared at each other, waiting to see who would break first. Aaron sighed.

"If you won't go home, I'm benching you.”

“We don’t have a case,” You said, seeing Aaron’s face you groaned, “We have a case?”

“You're not to leave the police station when we get there,"

"What about coffee runs?" You asked, folding your arms.

"Take Morgan with you for coffee runs,"

"Aaron-"

"Ah, nope, don't want to hear it, those are my terms,"

"Fine," You said with a sniff, breathing through your mouth since your nose was blocked. "But I'm perfectly fine."

You left the room, holding back a pout as you did so. Honestly, your brother can be so ridiculous at times. You were perfectly fine, he was just dramatic.

"This is so unfair," You huffed, slumping in your seat next to Morgan, who gave a chuckle. You folded your arms close to your chest. “It’s just a cold,”

“Right,” Emily chimed, sharing a grin with Morgan. “Your brother benching you?”

“Yep,” You groaned, “It’s so unreasonable, I’m perfectly fine,” You clear your throat to avoid coughing, but it builds up and you give a deep cough. “That was acting,” You say, seeing your brother give you a look. Aaron rolls his eyes, causing you to scoff. "You believe me Derek, don't you?"

"Stay away from me man, I don't want whatever plague you've got,"

"I don't know, Aaron said you had to go on Coffee runs with me," You grinned.

"Aw, what? That's so unfair," Morgan chuckled, you flipped him off with a laugh, which quickly morphed into a cough. You rolled your eyes at the look Aaron shot you, trying to mask the wince that painted your face when a pain behind your eyes exploded due to the headache that was slowly beginning to make itself known.

You leant closer to Morgan, "You got any paracetamol?"

"Nope," You looked at your coworkers as they all shook their heads.

"Hotch normally carries some," Reid chimed. You thought for a moment before straightening up.

"Nope, that won't be necessary because I am not ill," You said, folding your arms. Your voice was beginning to feel scratchy and hoarse, which was annoying but you pushed it aside the best you could.

Boarding the jet, you huffed, pulling your hoodie closer around your body. It suddenly felt very cold. You ignored the look of concern Aaron gave you and the amused looks from your peers and sat down, sniffing as you did so.

You wince as the jet takes off, causing an immense amount in your ears. Your hands go to your ears and you wiggle them about, open your jaw, move your jaw side to side, swallow, cough, anything you can think of that might help relieve the pressure - you even try sniffing. But nothing works. Aaron silently hands over a boiled sweet. You think they’re discussing the case but you can’t tell, everything sounds like it’s underwater, a lot of water. You put the sweet in your mouth, sucking on it and hoping it’ll decrease the pressure. After a few minutes of nothing working you turn to Aaron, motioning angrily to your ears and then shrug. You don’t want to speak in case you start yelling. That would just be embarrassing. You watch as Aaron turns to Spencer, you assume he asks if there’s anything else that would help and you see Spencer say something before Aaron turns back to you. He says something, when he speaks you shake your head and shrug again - Aaron rolls his eyes, which has you glaring at him. Aaron puts his fingers over his nose, plugging it and mimes trying to breathe out.

You nod, you can’t believe you forgot that trick! You plug your nose and try to breathe out, feeling the tension build up before releasing. “You’re a lifesaver, Spencer,” You say.

You were hoping it wouldn’t get any worse over the course of the case, you had the tendency to get a little… clinging to Aaron when you’re ill. Which you knew the team would never let you live down. Ever. Luckily, you were sharing a hotel room with him, which meant you had easy access to stealing his clothes.

As the hours pass, you’re trying not to give in and show how ill you’re feeling, but you’re feeling rough. The team notice you sticking to Aaron where you can, they also notice Aaron watching you closely. You’re sniffing every thirty seconds, rubbing your eyes, unable to focus, but still pushing through.

You're two days into the case and you can't help but be relieved that your brother benched you. You were tired, you ached all over, and at about lunchtime, you began to shiver. Obviously, you weren't going to tell him that you were glad he did. You weren't going to give him that satisfaction. Instead, you wore a large and very warm hoodie and debated putting the hood up throughout the entire recap of the evidence collected thus far.

It didn't take you long after that to lose your voice. Not that that stopped you from talking. Turns out, talking only made it worse. Like a lot worse. And soon enough, your voice was simply a whisper.

“You got any paracetamol?” You croak as Aaron walks past.

“Let me grab you some-” You shook your head, he always goes into Mother Hen mode when you’re ill.

“I’ll get it,” You said, sitting up, pausing for a moment as you waited for the room to stop spinning. At this point, Aaron was already in front of you with a glass of water and medication. You gave him a thankful grin as you accepted the items.

“(Y/N), you need to go back to the hotel,” Aaron said, you were both in the breakroom, Aaron making a coffee for himself and a tea for you. You were sat at the table, resting your head on the cool wood.

“‘M fine,” You groaned, turning your head into your elbow as you coughed.

“(Y/N).”

“I don’t wanna,” You moaned.

Aaron would have laughed, if he wasn’t worried about your health. “You need rest,”

“I am resting,” You mutter.

“How about if I send Morgan with you?” Hotch offered, you shook your head, “Why not?”

“You’ll be here,”

“I have to be here,” Aaron sighs.

“I’m fine here,” You mumble, “I’ll just be ‘sleep here,”

Aaron shut his eyes, trying his best not to groan. You were already asleep. He poked his head out of the breakroom, “Morgan?”

Derek’s head shot up and Aaron motioned for him to come into the breakroom. “Can you take him back to the hotel? Maybe sit with him while you work?”

“You really do go Mother Hen on him don’t you?” Derek teased before nodding, “Of course Hotch,”

Aaron gently shook your shoulder, “(Y/N)? You need to wake up,” He said softly, “Derek’s taking you to the hotel,”

“No,” You mutter, waking up. “I don’t want to go to the hotel,”

“Well, you don’t have a choice,” Aaron said, folding his arms.

“Big brother boss man said you have to,”

“Told you he goes all mother hen when I’m completely fine,” You mutter to Derek as you stand up, Derek’s hand on your shoulder, steadying you.

“This is completely fine, is it?” He asks sarcastically, “I’m pretty sure if I let go, you’d go down like a ton of bricks.”

“You’re just rude,” You mumble, causing Derek to snicker, “You’re not allowed to laugh at me, I’m ill.”

“Ah, so you are ill then,” Derek replied with a snort, you huffed.

The team took shifts keeping an eye on you in the hotel room whilst working, all except Aaron, who had to stay put in the police station until the end of the case. He only went back to the hotel for a few hours of sleep each night and a shower. Soon enough, the case was finished and the team was back on the jet on the way home. Knowing you were still feeling rough, the team let you have the couch for the flight back.

Aaron sighed, watching as you curled into a ball on the jet couch, trying to conserve as much body heat as possible whilst you slept, shivering. He grabbed the spare blanket from the other couch, carefully draping it over you.

"Just a cold my ass," He muttered before returning to his seat.

Two days later, Aaron sneezed. He was going to kick your ass the next time he saw you, when he was feeling better that is.

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babybatscreationsv2 · 4 months

Text

Overstimulation

Hannibal | Hannigram

Will gets overstimulated while on a case and Hannibal steps in to take care of him.

For H <3

Rating: Teen

Warnings/tags: Hurt/comfort, sensory overstimulation/sensory processing disorder

The dirt under his feet was littered with little round rocks that rolled around with every step. The crime scene ahead was buzzing with police taking pictures and samples. Some just stood back by the cars gossiping. He didn't normally notice, didn't normally care. Something was just off about today. Something about the way his coffee didn't taste right because he'd bought a different brand and the light bulb in the living room was burned out and he'd spent the morning in a lower light than he was used to now the cold air was making his hands ache with old injuries.

Jack's voice was too loud and too deep as he debriefed him. He barely understood the words. But he had work to do. His job was important. He looked at the wreckage, torn undergrowth, a discarded jacket, a corpse with missing eyes. Not the Ripper, not anyone who concerned Will. Just another fish who would swim right for the hook.

The sound of a siren made him jump. It's suddenness sent rage flaring down his nervous system. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, squeezed his fists until the nails bit into his skin.

"Will?" Hannibal's voice was soft. Not like Jack's. Not like the coroner who was taking away the remains while they babbled with coworkers.

He blinked his eyes open. Now the sun was too bright. His clothes felt like sandpaper. He wanted to scream, but it would only be too loud. Hannibal reached for him and he drew back.

"Come with me," he said just as softly as before. Will nodded his head, eyes squinting in the light.

"Is he alright?" Jack asked. Will flinched.

"He'll be fine. I'll call you when he's settled down."

Will didn't miss the guilt on Jack's face as he passed. He shouldn't feel guilty. This wasn't his fault. It happened from time to time. He shouldn't have changed up his routine now. He'd been too vulnerable lately.

Hannibal guided him to the car with a hand hovering behind his back, never touching. He opened the door for him and Will slid inside. He flinched at the sound of the door shutting. Then the silence came and he took a deep breath. Maybe his first breath in a while.

When Hannibal got into the car he expected his discomfort to climb, but it didn't. At the very least, it didn't increase. Still his nerves were burning under his skin. He wanted to clamp his hands over his ears and kick his feet, but that was childish. Embarrassing. It was already embarrassing enough.

"Where are we going?" Will asked. That's what you're supposed to do. Though, Hannibal never really pressed him for small talk, not anymore.

"I'm taking you home. Jack shouldn't force you to come out like this while you're clearly overwhelmed."

"Don't blame Jack. I'm an adult. I got in the car."

"You feel responsible. You're a good person."

"Now I'm just taking us both away from our jobs."

"The crime scene is well documented. We'll take a look when you're better prepared." Hannibal glanced at him. "We don't have to talk. Just relax, Will."

"I thought it was rude not to make small talk. It's what adults do, you said."

"Perhaps I was rude to believe I was entitled to it."

"That almost sounds like an apology."

Hannibal smiled. "It almost is one."

Will laughed. He looked at Hannibal across the car. It was nice to have someone that understood. Or at least, he understood well enough. Will ran his fingers over the jagged metal of his jacket's zipper. He focused on the feeling, forcing other sensations into the back of his mind. It kept him steady until they pulled into the driveway.

Will was already unlocking his front door when he realized Hannibal wasn't leaving. "You don't have to stay," he said, still facing the door. "I'll be fine. I just need an hour or two."

"Do you want me to leave?" Hannibal asked. His tone was neutral, betraying nothing of his own desires, nothing as to what the right answer was. Not that Will ever put much effort into giving the answers people expected from him.

"I wouldn't mind your company." Will opened the door a crack. He waited until Hannibal followed him up the steps. Then he entered, pushing back the dogs and shutting the door behind them. As his mind recognized safety, the burning feeling returned. He took off his glasses and dropped his coat on the floor. His boots were kicked wherever they wanted to land. Halfway to the bedroom, he dropped his shirts. His pants hit the floor somewhere near the bed.

The dogs chased after him, worried as they sensed his anxiety. With a guilty heart, Will pushed Winston away with his foot as he struggled to find what he needed to calm his mind. Through the open door, he saw Hannibal setting Will's coat neatly on the hook before hanging up his own.

Will ignored him and got into bed. He pulled the comforter around his shoulders. In the other room, Hannibal lined up his boots by the door. Then he came to join him.

"You don't have to do all that," Will said.

"I don't," Hannibal agreed. "But I wanted to. Shall I sit?" Will nodded and the man sat down beside him still keeping his distance. Then he reached a hand over, slowly enough for Will to say no. He took the blanket and tucked it around him more efficiently so he was properly cocooned. Will nestled down into the blanket. They sat in silence for a while. Hannibal distracted the dogs when they tried to climb in his lap. Until finally, Will felt the burning recede.

"Thank you." Will let the blanket slip down from his shoulders. "I would have just kept going."

"I know. It's difficult to admit when you need help. I'm glad I was there for you, to pull you back. Are you feeling better then?"

"Loads."

Hannibal smiled at him. "Perfect. As your doctor, I'm prescribing rest. Take the day off."

"What about the case?"

"You saw enough to know Jack doesn't really need you for this one. He's just paranoid. Afraid the wrong case will slip through the cracks. It's okay to take time for yourself."

Will nodded, though he couldn't help but disagree. A little bit of over-stimulation wouldn't kill him, but inaction could kill an unknown amount of people.

Hannibal stood as if he intended to dismiss himself. Will felt his loss instantly.

"Don't go." He looked up from the bed at Hannibal's face. He held his eye for as long as he could. "Unless you have somewhere to be... I shouldn't assume."

Hannibal sat back down beside him. Closer now, almost touching. "Nowhere could be more important than right here."

#hannibal #hannigram #hurt/comfort #fluff

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okcomputeroknotok19972017 · 4 months

Note

lays on my stomach and KICKS MY FEET tell me about ur saw ocs!!!!!

OOOOOOOKAAYYYYY admittedly they are not the most fleshed out but i initially made them for an english assignment in late 2020 when my saw special interest first began and now they're Here. lydia is a self-destructive and generally unpleasant petty thief flunking art school. she's constantly angry, nasty, abrasive, never has anything nice to say, she's pretty much perpetually attempted suicide again sometime within the last two weeks. she's worse than adam, at least he could chill out for a fucking moment. lydia started art school with her parents' help back when she believed her life was worth living, now she keeps her grades and attendance up just barely enough to keep living on campus for the time being while she steals from the register and collects from a card skimmer at her night shift at the convenience store. here's some extremely old art from 2020 lol ...

sebastian meanwhile is a fairly mild mannered young man working at a credit union -- he used to sweep the floors and work the front desk, but now he's a lender. for as anxious and honest as he is, his desire for approval and consistency has led to some bad behavior. he'll mislead customers about the lending process, get them started on different plans than they intended, etc, all for the sake of doing well at his job. it was his idea to be a predatory lender, but the boss doesn't care what he says or does as long as he keeps those numbers up.

lydia and sebastian's first meeting is under less than ideal circumstances. the trap is designed for only one of them to survive -- the details are fuzzy in my mind, but something is closing in, time is running out, some twisted test of their skills as thieves. sebastian ends up leaving the room when the time is up, leaving lydia trapped and screaming. this is really how she's going to die. so many attempts, so much pain and misery she had lived through, but she didn't want it to end like this.

though designed for only one person to survive, sebastian's pleas to the paramedics and police lead to lydia being found some hours later, still alive. they didn't get along very well in the few hours they knew each other, but he couldn't let another person, especially not one so much like himself, die in there.

striking up a friendship in these ... unusual circumstances is awkward but natural. college is giving lydia straight a's for the rest of the semester for what she's been through and sebastian has paid time off as they lay low from the media, quietly spending their time in physical therapy as well as a jigsaw survivor support group together. lydia cannot believe that someone could be so kind to her, could want her to keep living, and sebastian can't believe that she understands him, she is honest and sees through him and talks to Him, not what he presents to the outside world. lydia grows softer in his presence and sebastian grows stronger in hers. kisses ensue.

though they become the centers of each others worlds, recovering from This Mess is far from smooth sailing. codependency underlays their romance, entwines them like half-dead rats in a glue trap. the love is real, but above all else they stick with each other because there is nobody else. physical therapy is difficult. sebastian is blind and deaf in his left eye and ear, and lydia's right leg and pelvis were injured so badly that she's had hip surgery at age 25 and walks with a forearm crutch at all times. the emotional pain is the worst part. nightmares plague them both, paranoia seeps into every crevice of their minds, and as lydia gains a new appreciation for being alive a boiling sense of rage and injustice whirls inside of her.

she's never been very good at coping. sebastian is doing better, but only by an inch -- he relies a lot on lydia to keep him sane, checks in on her constantly and begins to live For her. some kind of fucked in the head househusband who's still the breadwinner as his parents pump cash into his account. the media appearances help, too. anyways, while sebastian dissolves into neuroticism, lydia spirals into deep hatred. she didn't deserve this. none of the other victims deserved this. most of all, her shining star, her perfect boyfriend sebastian didn't deserve it. and that jigsaw killer is still out there, he still hasn't learned his lesson ...

mandy passes her the note at a survivor support group. she starts telling seb that she's going to get another late shift job, she's a night owl after all. in the warehouse covered in grime and blood, all lydia can think about is the smell of metal and the lashing of chains and the sound of her lover screaming. as an art student, lydia is no stranger to building Contraptions. i'm serious my mom went to art school and they were fucking constantly building stuff. ok anyways she's first assigned to the blueprints, she puts together the small things and draws up her own traps, doing her best to design them non-lethally without arousing suspicion. inevitably, people end up dying in her designs. the first few times she is asked to design and then supervise a large trap, she pulls the strings to let the test subjects out as unharmed as possible. the other apprentices have a word with john and she's put back on design duty. she knows suspicion is on her, and she has to act like a good apprentice again to get closer to her goal: killing john kramer.

it's difficult to work out where all of the apprentices fit into this. i don't want amanda in much of it because they would be having evil lesbian sex all the time, but i do like the idea of her as an occasional presence in the background. i think it would serve better if she were out of the picture sometime before john is, but i think it's ok if mark is there. i like the dramatic imagery of him boarding a plane to south america by the very end, the music swells and we see him shift his eyes nervously as he knows he's totally fucked and needs to end this Now, needs to get out and completely start a new life.

the day sebastian finds out is the day lydia finally kills john. she's been increasingly ignoring his texts at "work," been crying a lot more, all the progress made with her nightmares and her rage has totally regressed. he follows her there, his heart pounding. a terrifying crawl through the maze of a warehouse and he sees her ... she's standing over an old, frail man, hands and arms soaked in blood up to the elbows -- god, he didn't know blood could be so dark. she's crying, twisting up her face when she sees him, always grateful for his presence but terrified now of her own violence. "i did it, i saved us, i saved everyone." tears stream down her face. sebastian flinches away, knocks into a hanging chain. he doesn't know who she is. he doesn't know how much planning this has taken, how much death this has taken, what any of this means for him and lydia. all he knows is that she's scared, he's scared, he's scared of her.

i don't know where i want to go after that. horrible awful relationship goals where he cleans her up and flees with her and promises he still loves her? a moment of panic and poor judgement where one or both of them ends up dead? who knwos ......

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littleperilstories · 1 year

Text

The Prince of Thieves: I'm Not Lost, This Fate Was Mine to Choose

Mood Boards | Chapter Titles | Also on A03! | Playlist | Story Intro

Warnings: Mention of jail/police, mention of firearms, mention of death, angst

Historically (for a while), the term 'guns' meant artillery and not 'small' firearms like muskets etc. but I used 'guns' in here bc 'small arms' sounds very stilted in dialogue to a modern ear ok byyyeee

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Word count: 1872 || Approx reading time: 8 mins

I'm Not Lost, This Fate Was Mine to Choose

Teaser: “I still can’t believe this is happening.” It’s foolish to speak when the rest of the world is still so quiet; my voice carries through the morning air. Worry twists my gut so ferociously, though, I have to say something to take my mind off it. If I don’t, I might burst.

Bree

Dawn comes too soon, creeping up on us with stealthy, nimble footsteps. One moment, I am curled near the hearth, James Wardrew’s coat thrown over me like a blanket; the next, I’m shambling across the floor and blinking sleep from my eyes, blearily following the smell of just-brewed tea, nursing a deepening sense of horror as I remember exactly why we’re up so early and where we’re going.

And then we’re shivering in the early morning air, skulking through town the long way, two groups approaching the meeting point from different angles—me and Spider together, James and Geoff dragging Hatchett through the woods.

“I still can’t believe this is happening.” It’s foolish to speak when the rest of the world is still so quiet; my voice carries through the morning air. Worry twists my gut so ferociously, though, I have to say something to take my mind off it. If I don’t, I might burst.

I glance up at Spider, waiting for her to shush or glare me into silence, but she simply nods and, after a moment, speaks too. “I hate this.”

Although she and James have found an odd, tenuous peace between the two of them, they’re still tense. Uncomfortable, sharp with each other. I don’t know either of them very well, but I can tell it hurts both of them to be so at odds. She’s been stiff and quiet since the moment it came out that she was there when Will was flogged, which seems to be the source of their conflict, as far as I can tell. Stiff, quiet, and guilty.

You shouldn’t feel so bad. The words have been on the tip of my tongue so many times. Aren’t secrets sometimes for the best? Don’t we all keep them sometimes to avoid hurting others more than necessary?

More than that, though, it’s fucking rich of James Wardrew to be guilting her so heartily about hiding things, because he’s been doing the exact same thing to everyone else.

You got my message, then.

It was impossible to tell from what I overheard what was contained in the message James sent to Hatchett, but I gleaned enough from their muttered conversation: James promised something in an effort to negotiate Will’s release.

A message—a note. The signature was what gave Hatchett the information to start puzzling together Will’s name and identity—all because of me, when I told him, like a goddamn idiot, that if he had the name of one brother, he could find the name of the other.

All Will had to do was say a single word—his surname—that matched a name in Hatchett’s notes, and the game was over.

Despite being on Spider’s case about being secretive, James is keeping it hidden that he sent that letter at all.

I wanted to say something—to him, to Spider, to Geoff.

I’m a coward, though.

Instead, when James stepped outside once he was done talking to Hatchett, and I scrambled away from the door to look as if I were just approaching—and hadn’t had my ear pressed against the wood mere moments before—I said, “I wasn’t throwing myself at anyone.”

Good god, the look he gave me. He didn’t even seem to remember that You were throwing yourself at him like the slut you are was what Hatchett said to send me soaring across the room to slap him across his horrid face.

“Well…that’s good, I suppose?” he said, scratching behind his ear, appearing to gather his patience from a well that was running dry.

I cringe now at the memory. Anything else would have been better than saying that.

Most of all, however, I wish I’d been brave enough to tell him, You don’t get to be mad at her when you’re keeping an even bigger secret from everyone else.

But I held my tongue—once a coward, forever a coward. Hiding from confrontation. Hiding from the truth.

Awaiting a sign that it’s time to move, Spider and I sit in shadow. Tall, luxurious manors loom over us, the lavish structures brimming with silence and, for me, memories of a childhood in a place not much different.

So far, there have been no constables patrolling this area, but no doubt they’re around somewhere.

“I wish…” Her voice trails off, and when she glances at me, I can see what she’s thinking: Perhaps you’re not the right person to talk to about this.

I pull my “borrowed” shawl closer around me—Spider found one somewhere, and though I’ve no idea where it came from, I can guess it wasn’t originally hers—hoping the hurt doesn’t show on my face. I’ve ended up in yet another place where I don’t belong, where I’m not truly wanted. “Wish he wouldn’t go face them himself?”

She nods, her mouth pressed into a grim line. “He’s being a fucking idiot. Reckless. Acting like…”

My throat aches. I know how to finish this sentence for her. “Like Will.”

She agrees, drawing in a long, angry breath.

“They might see his face,” I say. “Or catch him. Arrest him, too.”

“I told him that.”

“They could kill him.”

“I told him that.”

I gulp at the next thought that slips out, one we’ve been dancing around for the last day but have been powerless to do anything about. “What if they have…guns?”

In the prison, where every altercation was at close range, the constables favoured their batons. Now, in the dread-soaked minutes before a meeting that’s as likely to turn into a bloodbath as not, I think of the cracks that broke through the darkness the night I escaped, the salty tang of gunpowder in the air. The machines of death that they could wield today if they wanted. If they really wanted to make sure none of us escaped with our lives.

“It’s likely.”

I shudder. “He doesn’t care?”

Spider takes a long moment to respond. When she does, her voice cracks. “He cares.”

He cares about saving his brother.

But for god’s sake, he can’t die. Seeing him—that was the only thing Will wanted, the only thing he truly cared about. I know that now. If James doesn’t make it out today…

Flicking a dead beetle that’s somehow stuck to her shoe into the dirt, Spider says, “He just keeps saying there’s no one else.”

Somewhere down the street, voices swell. Constables? The early morning bickering of a family? Servants in these enormous, wealthy households making plans for the day, risen so early to perform the jobs for which they are paid mere pennies?

“No one else, what?”

A cold breeze ruffles her dark curls, rustles the layers of her skirt. “No one else who can be the one to meet the constables and make the trade.”

When did they even have this conversation? The hunting cabin is so small, surely I’d have heard it, unless I was asleep. Doesn’t the inner circle ever rest? “That’s bullshit.”

Her mouth twitches. “Mmm hmm. But I think, mostly, he wants to be the one Will sees when the trade goes down.” She falters. Quietens. “And he doesn’t want to risk anyone else getting grabbed or killed.”

He was playing the hero again, you know.

“They’re exactly the same,” I say.

With a sad smile, as if she can tell who I mean even though I didn’t clarify, she says, “I suppose, in some ways, they are.”

I glance away from her, turning my head so I can brush a finger against my eyes. Too many times I’ve burst into tears in front of her and James and Geoff, these last few days. I won’t do it again now.

There’s no one else. The words go around and around my head: persistent, irritating, unyielding. No one else.

If James goes in for the trade, assuming they don’t just shoot him right away, he risks destroying everything he’s worked so hard for—destroying all the good IA has done, possibly forever.

What, again, of his mysterious message? What was in it? What if, when James gets there, the constabulary tries to hold him to whatever he said?

And if he gets arrested or shot or beaten to death…

There’s no one else.

But of course there is. Someone whose face the constables already know.

Someone who has nothing to lose, who has had nothing to lose for a very long time.

When the sun is creeping up the horizon, painting a swath of light across the sky, there’s noise and movement in the distance. Wheels. A terse command or two. And then footsteps—that of heavy, iron-studded boots.

They’re here.

Before James or anyone else can step out from the woods, I slip from my hiding place and walk directly into Junior Constable Michaelson’s line of sight.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Spider’s voice fades as I hurry away from her. I pretend not to notice; I don’t need to hear anything else. This is a terrible idea, I know.

But if it keeps James out of the line of fire long enough to set Will free…

Michaelson stares at me for a long moment, his face purpling. “This must be some ridiculous joke.”

“No.” I want to say something smart, something rude and irreverent, something Will would say. My mind has gone blank.

This man—he cut open my skin and watched me bleed.

He held a knife to my throat.

He whipped me until my back was covered in welts and bruises.

Michaelson’s lip curls, the expression far too Hatchett-like for my comfort. “Well. This is how it goes, then. The little viper returns. Came back for more, did you?”

“Where’s Will?” I do not trust myself to keep conversation with this man. All it took the other day for me to lose control and slap Baden Hatchett across his wicked face was a single word.

I cannot afford to lose my wits today.

“Where’s the constable?”

“You’ll see him soon enough.” I feel naked under his glare, just as I did the first time I stood in his leering gaze. Such a short time ago, and yet it feels like a lifetime.

I am not the same girl as I was that day.

“You’ll see him,” I repeat. There is no need to fear this man, I tell myself. He will not touch me until Hatchett is safe—and Hatchett won’t walk free until Will is out of their clutches. “Not yet. Not until you give back Will.”

I do not need to be afraid, because I have nothing left outside of this moment, this aching body, these clothes I wear that are not even mine. Hatchett knows it, he told me so, and I, too, know he’s right. No family and no friends beyond this family I am now trying so desperately to protect. No one who will miss my wretched, worthless, insignificant life.

If I die today, I’m leaving behind nothing except the deeds I did while living.

So I must make sure those deeds are the right ones, until the end. I must make sure—if I die today—my last act is saving IA. Saving James.

Saving Will.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Tagging: @starlit-hopes-and-dreams, @gala1981, @kixngiggles .

[Banner ID: A narrow horizontal, rectangular banner featuring a barred archway. The bars and the stone walls evoke the feeling of a dungeon or prison. There are burning candles on either side of the archway. The title of the story, The Prince of Thieves, appears in white text in the centre of the image. The author's username, abbreviated to LPS from littleperilstories, appears in the bottom right corner in partially transparent text. End ID.]

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harleychick91 · 7 months

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I wrote an alternate ending of my Adjudicator/SuperCorp fic from September because the ending of The Continental irked me so much. If you'd like to check out the entire story, it's on AO3 and FFN. Since it could be a stand alone, here’s the alternate ending.

The Adjudicator’s POV

It had been eight months since Kara was stranded in my dimension. She kept her word and became my bodyguard but wasn’t much for the violence. She still longed for her home but the look in her eyes had changed. They were tender now when she looked at me.

After giving me her word that she would always be there if I needed her, I felt comfortable enough to let Kara get her own job. I will admit, she makes a damn good reporter. If anything devious came up about The Continental, she brought it to my attention. I would handle it so she could keep her integrity.

Now, though, as I stared down the barrel of a gun, all I thought about was her. “I’m sorry, Kara,” I murmured. I will miss you the most. As the gun discharged, I waited for a pain that never came.

“Who the hell are you?”

What? Opening my eyes, I saw blonde locks. “Kara?”

“Bad idea,” Kara growled. Punching Winston in the nose, he fell back onto the steps.

“H-How….”

Turning her attention to Kirk, Kara asked. “Can you take care of him? I think I know where the coin press is but I want to get her to safety.”

“Of course,” he nodded.

Opening the backseat door, Kara smiled softly. “I have a lot of explaining to do. Would you like to go to the restaurant early or somewhere else?”

“We can talk in the car. It won’t take Kirk long to have someone come get Winston.” Sliding into the backseat, I studied the blonde as she did the same.

“It’s best that we speak alone anyway.” Kara glanced behind her. “The Adjudicator is safe with me. I wouldn’t hurt her.”

“She’s safe,” I reassured Kirk. He’s always been such a loyal henchman. As Kara closed the door, I waited. Fidgeting with her nails, she bit the inside of her cheek. “How did you get across town so quickly? I wasn’t expecting you for another hour.”

“I always listen for your heart beat now,” Kara bit her lip. “When I heard it spike, I came. I told you I’d be here if you ever needed me.”

Something in her voice has changed also. “But that doesn’t explain how you heard me across town or stopped a bullet. No human can do those things.” When she wouldn’t answer, I placed my hand on hers. “Kara, I already know you’re not from my dimension. I can handle a lot of things most can’t.”

“I’m not from Earth either,” she murmured.

“What?” Knowing we were out of sight, I took my mask off.

“I’m from a different planet. When my world was destroyed, I was sent to my Earth. I was raised by a human family. They taught me everything about what it was to be human and put me through school.”

“Tell me about your people.”

“Krypton is where I’m from. On this planet, the yellow sun gives me powers. On my Earth, I was a hero. I protected the city from crime the local police couldn’t handle.”

A few things make sense now. “So you have, what, super speed and strength?”

“All of my senses and abilities are heightened.” Kara began to tremble. “I never told you because I was scared.”

“I’m not going to force you to kill or do anything you don’t want to do,” I spoke softly. Tucking hair behind the woman’s ear, I smiled. “You’re still safe with me.”

Meeting my gaze, Kara studied me. “You’re okay with this?”

“I’m a very open minded woman. One far before my time.”

“You are in every dimension,” she laughed.

“I know I’m not your Lena but I’m glad to have you with me,” I whispered.

“I’m glad I have you too.” Glancing to my lips, Kara closed the gap between us. Tangling a hand in blonde locks, I deepened the kiss causing her to moan. We both jumped as the driver’s door opened.

“Onwards to dinner, Ma’am? Kirk asked.

“Yes. I believe they’ll work us in a bit early.” Taking my hand in hers, Kara kissed my knuckles. Meeting the woman’s gaze, I smiled. “Dinner with my girl is just what I need after this afternoon’s events.”

Full story is on AO3 and FFN

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #the adjudicator #the continental #fanfic #alternate ending #The Adjudicator deserves better

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lindalofbroome · 1 year

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02 - Ambition

‘The sad thing is,’ Britta found herself saying, ‘that Vashti could no doubt be a very good trader if only her father would trust in her talent and leave her alone.’

STAR OF DELTORA The Hungry Isle Ch 18 - Friends

i dont know if rodda would write more for this series because it's pretty closed now. but there's still a part of me yearning for more. and i want so bad for vashti to have some agency and some redemption. she was the antagonist in a literary sense and she does have that White Woman™ vibes, but she's also just a kid and i dont think she's evil at heart. sod didn’t really end up going down the direction of exploring the moral greyness of people and your individuality as much, but like i can dream.

i feel like her parent/s were in her ear ever since she was born, fuelling a desire in her to win the apprenticeship and to be The Best. they nurtured her as a tool, but not as a person. not excusing her bullying and undermining, because that’s horrible, but does she know anything else? if her ‘superiors’ are not treating her with kindness and goodness, why would she treat her perceived ‘inferiors’ any differently.

anyway this post could be interpreted as vashti’s ambition. it pushed her to want the apprenticeship enough to cheat and bully. taking every advantage she could. on ship and off ship. take no prisoners mentality. belittling and dehumanising her opponents in her mind, clouding her judgement. similar to jasmine’s opponents in the rithmere games. a burly del-ignorant brute? a devious scavenging rascal? a poor shopkeeper’s daughter? vashti let her assumptions cloud her judgement, and now her enemies are bonded against her. she didn’t really have a chance.

but this post was about her parent/s when i drew up the sketch. i don’t know if her mother, irma, was as directly involved. the books reference her father, loy, much more often in meddling. so i dont know if she’s just like, his trophy wife or something like that and just let things happen warily, or if she held the same ambitions and was his accomplice. either way i would still direct blame on her, even if she was only indirectly responsible because i can’t believe that she was in the dark on the matter.

the vibes im getting out of this parent-daught relationship reminds me of that B99 episode where peralta and holt are talking about the kid graffiting police cars

Peralta: His daddy comes in and bails him out every time. He’s a lucky little jerk.

Holt: No, I wouldn’t say he was lucky. I feel bad for this kid. I mean, what kind of father cares so little for his son that he lets him get away with everything?

BROOKLYN NINE-NINE S01 E02

it’s not directly the same. but, at least to me, it’s clear that vashti is not seen as a daughter to be loved and led and encouraged to a prosperous future by them, but a tool and a key to a prosperous future for them. you know?

‘From what I have heard since I have been in here, Vashti’s father has been training her and her younger sisters for years with this contest in mind. He already has three ships of his own, but he wants control of the Trader fleet as well — especially the Star of Deltora.’ [Jewel said.]

STAR OF DELTORA Shadows of the Master Ch 9 The Announcement

like bruh??? imagine. having the fucking audacity. i hope that in a world where vashti wins, she eventually learns that he doesnt and shouldnt have power over her and something she won. it doesnt matter that he raised her, that he taught her things she knows. not everything she has was from him, and theres room for stuff outside of him.

i. also forgot she had siblings because it’s never mentioned again except in that quote. but i guess vashti is always on the periphery anyway. but i was thinking that the other candidates are older than britta, who just scraped in at 15, but i dont have concrete numbers in mind lol.

as i was working on this i was thinking maybe vashti was 18. i cant remember if i really had reasons for that or if i chose that arbitrarily alskdj like i guess she might be more used to being composed and more experienced and stuff which makes her intimidating. but she can be younger and still act like that.

but then i was thinking about since she technically also just scraped in (but on the other end) and then the implications of that hit me in the face. like her parent/s were already on her case, but the fact that she just got in probably increased their desperation and longing, and it would’ve been even worse than previous years. the familiar anticipation was manifesting into a lustful grab for power. it was scary. it was overwhelming. there was nothing but a need to make them happy. it’s no longer about a personal accomplishment but a trophy to sate her parents’ hunger. and of course it wouldn’t last. and if they had a taste for something so big, they’d only demand more and more. where would it end.

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ed89 · 2 years

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here's a part of the byler scream au (and also one of my fav parts of the movie) !!!

Dustin was working after school, filling the shelves with DVDs as he talked with Will, a casual visitor to the store and Dustin's favourite part of his repetitive job.

"You know who I think it is?" Will said, lowering his voice to not bring any unwanted attention to them. "I think it’s Hopper. Why can’t they find him?"

"Because he’s probably dead!" Dustin blurted out loudly, trying to make a point. "His body will come popping up in the last reel or something. Eyes gouged out, fingers cut off, teeth knocked out! The police are always off track with this shit!"

He was holding the film Prom Night in his hand, shaking it in Will's face.

"If they watched Prom Night, they'd save time!"

Around them, a few customers glanced over at Dustin with concern.

"There’s a formula to it. A very simple formula! EVERYBODY'S A SUSPECT!"

The whole store looked at them with bewilderment and unease. Will was deeply embarrassed, waving and smiling painfully at the few cute guys that were glaring at him and Dustin, pretending that Will was not associated with the screaming boy in front of him.

Will grimaced, peering at Dustin with a scrunched expression. "Seriously, dude?"

"I’m telling you, Hopper’s a red herring," he explained sternly. "It’s Mike!"

Suddenly, Will looked puzzled. "Mike?"

Dustin knew Will wouldn't believe him. He scoffed, "I know you think he's perfect, but there's something off with him."

Will stammered with a blush. "I don't think he's… perfect, I just don't think he's capable of murder."

Dustin rolled his eyes, now finished packing the row of movies. He grabbed the trolley and began to turn around, but as he did, a figure appeared in front of him, scaring the daylight out of him. Before he could apologise to the customer, he realised that it was not a customer, but in fact Mike, who was towering over him with furrowed brows, fierce eyes and a wrathful glare that could make a grown man feel small.

Without a second to spare, Mike seized a fistful of Dustin's collar and clutched tightly, yanking him closer until Mike's piercing eyes were the only thing Dustin could see.

"How do we know you're not the killer?"

Will crept up from behind and rested his arms on Dustin's shoulders, but his forearm was forcefully pressed against his neck as if Will was trying to immobilise him. Dustin was frozen in place, genuinely frightened for his well-being in the middle of the video store.

"Hi, Mike," Dustin tried to say calmly, but his wide frightened eyes and breathless voice told another story.

Mike ignored his salutation with a sneer, inching closer to Dustin's face.

"Maybe your movie freaked mind lost its grip with reality, you ever think of that?"

Dustin laughed nervously, shrugging it off as a joke.

"You're absolutely right, I'm the first to admit it. If this was a scary movie, I'd be the prime suspect!"

Mike cocked his head to the side and smiled darkly. "That's right."

The vibe of the conversation was off-putting. Dustin felt like a mouse in a trap, unable to move, caught between a metal bar snapped against his neck, and a beast that had backed him into a corner. He audibly gulped.

Will was now uncomfortably close to Dustin's ear. "What would be your motive?"

Dustin whipped around, causing Will to back off.

"It's the millennium," he answered, looking back at Mike. "Motives are incidental."

The choking atmosphere dissolved slightly, allowing Dustin to finally breathe easy again. Mike chuckled with a sneering grin, patting his friend's cheek in a mocking fashion.

"The millennium? That's a good one, Dustin," he said with a smile, but his venomous tone completely contradicted the expression on his face.

With a final glance at Dustin, Mike walked away.

Dustin turned around to face Will.

"Are you telling me that's not a killer?"

Will seemed unfazed. "I dunno, everyone's a suspect, aren't they?" He smiled, but it was more friendly than Mike's sinister grin.

#byler #byler scream au

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claireandacat · 9 months

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The Alienist: my new hyper fixation?

Today I want to talk about what is possibly my new hyper fixation, TNT’s The Alienist. A limited series made from 2018-2020. I cannot get enough of it. The plot revolves around an Alienist, basically a mental health professional in the Victorian era. He works with a reporter and police commissioner secretary to solve a complex crime in late victorian New York. If you like crime, mystery and drama you’ll love this.

I have ADHD and often times I need a motivator to watch something such as an actor/actress or director I like or it has to have a really captivating plot. This has both. I was initially interested because it had Daniel Brühl in it, who I think is FINE as hell, we’ll get to that later.

I’m not normally into dark stuff, as a Catholic I believe that the eyes and ears are gateways to the soul and if you’re watching that often, it can really affect you. I used to be able to tolerate a lot as to me it’s fakey fake Hollywood and CGI, since converting to Catholicism there’s only so much horror and darkness I can handle. At most I can do 28 Days Later and Fresh, but I’ll be honest here I only like Fresh because Sebastian Stan is HANDSOME in that movie. 😍

I want to add that watching this made me realize how sad, dark, dirty, and sexist the Victorian period is. Darkness aside, there is some charm to it. I used to watch those Tiktoks or instagram accounts of people dressing like they’re in a certain time period and would always be so confused to why someone would want to dress in the style of a sad and depressing era of people drinking arsenic in hopes of better health. Now I kinda get it and yet it’s not much different than me finding charm in medieval in renaissance history and culture.

On to the part I was looking forward to writing. I mainly gave this show a try because of Daniel Brühl. I watched Rush a few days ago, which is a formula one racing movie with him and Chris Hemsworth. Something about Daniel’s performance in that movie made me want to see what other work he is in. I knew him as Zemo from Captain America Civil War and The Falcon and Winter Soldier where he is a bad guy and as a diehard Bucky stan, I do not approve.

This show currently has me questioning that status as a diehard Bucky Barnes stan

Daniel Brühl is adorable, handsome and fine as hell in this. His character, as mentioned before is basically a mental health professional in a time knowledge about mental health was sparse. Dr. Kreizler has these very positive and non invasive methods working with his patients at his institute. The methods are very much reminiscent of the modern day mental health professionals I’ve seen in the 20 years of being diagnosed with ASD. I can’t really explain but his character and the development of his character within the series just set something off in me and I fell in love with his character. Maybe because he would understand me and my distressed mind? So I guess that makes me a Laszlo/Dr. Kreizler stan? 😂😅😍

Like just look at those eyes 😍

So in conclusion, The Alienist is a good show and Daniel Brühl is a great actor that is fine af.

I don’t fully know how to conclude a blog post

Happy Tuesday!

#my thoughts #lifestyle blog #life blogging #autistic women #im hyperfixating again #hyperfixation #the alienist #daniel brühl #show review #bucky barnes #ramblings #rambles

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anthonyjlockwood · 2 years

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god i hate to be an enabler but i think “how long? for how long have you been bottling this up?” and “do you know what you’ve done” gives very bobby and anyone vibes 👀

thank you for enabling me 😘 let's pretend this didn't take me over a month to write though <333

also i changed around some of the wording in the dialogue but the vibe is the same okay??

For what has to be the hundredth time that evening, Bobby Shaw stares at the rainbow reflective lights glistening off the C.D. that’s spinning in the player. As the spectrum of colors blurs together, he slams down the lid and clicks it shut, shoving the C.D. player back towards the wall.

This has been his nightly routine for weeks. He can hear Luke’s voice almost as clearly in his head as he can hear it now, singing his inspiring lyrics about taking the future with both hands and making it his own. Our music’s a part of us.

Knowing Luke for as long as he has – had – Bobby knows this to be true. Sunset Curve’s music is a part of Luke the same way that the terrible stick-and-poke sunset tattoo is now a part of Bobby. It’s faded now, much more so than the night Reggie needled it into his forearm, but sometimes it stings just as much as it had when it was fresh. Both are permanent marks on their respective boys’ souls. (Even though Luke had refused to let Reggie anywhere near him with a needle, Bobby supposes music was an even more permanent part of his best friend. He lived and breathed it, and now that his heart is silent, he lives on through it. It might not have been what Luke wanted, but as long as the C.D. is in Bobby’s possession, Luke is alive somehow.)

Hearing Luke’s voice night after night is one way to keep him around. But tonight, Bobby is playing the Sunset Curve C.D. on repeat for more than just memory’s sake.

To the left of the C.D. player, old and dusty with a cracked spine, the book on supernatural beings sits open to its only bookmarked page. Chapter Twenty One: How To Summon A Spirit.

Sunset Curve’s music is a part of Luke’s soul. And if Bobby plays the C.D. enough, his friend will come back.

Those words have been playing on a loop in his head, ever since the night he awoke with them echoing in his ears, shaking and sweaty from his latest nightmare. His friends had visited his dreams before then, of course. But Luke, always the one with the big ideas, had suggested it: Hey, Bobs, what if you could bring us back somehow? And Alex, the one with the plans – however unwillingly they were sometimes given – had supplied, What do you want him to do, dude? Play our C.D. over and over again until our ghosts come out?

He’d said it like he says most things: sarcastically, with one eyebrow climbing up to meet his hairline. But the words left their mark on Bobby; unlike most dreams, which gradually fade away with consciousness, this one stayed. And Bobby chooses to believe that it’s because this time, Luke’s idea was a good one. This time, Alex’s sarcastic comment was a legitimate answer. A way to quell the throbbing longing in Bobby’s chest.

A way to make it up to his friends for letting them die.

They could come back.

(The therapist his parents are paying hundreds of dollars a week for would probably disagree. Bobby would know, if he was thinking logically, that death is permanent. There’s no way for his friends to come back. He’s messed things up beyond repair. Ruined his friends’ futures and any chance his band had of becoming legends. It’s all his fault, and Bobby knows nothing he could ever do will make up for it. But still… he has to try.)

He just has to talk to his friends one more time. If they can’t really have the future Bobby stole right out from under them, he at least needs to be able to apologize. The one apology he tried, in the form of hurling himself through the line of police officers next to Sam and Ella’s Oldsmobile, hadn’t sufficed. The police had called paramedics over to drag him kicking and screaming away from the car, and he hadn’t gotten to have a poisoned hot dog of his own. And now, even though it shouldn’t, the sight of them turns his stomach; they’re so repellant that most days, Bobby can’t even look at a picture of one. He knows he’s a wimp. He knows he should just find some way to join them, some food that’ll do the job. But he can’t. So he plays the C.D., hoping that eventually he’ll be able to make up for his mistakes in a different, albeit less satisfactory, way.

There’s one big problem with his plan, though.

Suddenly, quiet knocks echo through the garage, and Bobby’s roommate – one of them, at least; the one who’d been super adamant not to leave him alone after everything had happened. The one who’d made Bobby rent a house with her and her longtime boyfriend. The one who still sometimes looks at him like he’s broken, like she is right now – steps inside slowly, her eyes bouncing between the C.D. player, the book, and Bobby’s most-likely bloodshot eyes.

“Bobby?” Rose murmurs, careful not to startle him.

Bobby’s eyes widen like a deer standing in the path of an oncoming tractor trailer, and the blood drains from his veins. He stiffens up, and his eyes dart past Rose to the door she stands in front of. There are probably about six or seven steps between them; if he could just get his limbs to move, he could go, just like Rose probably wants him to. She hates when he sits in here like this. And Bobby doesn’t want a lecture.

“I just got home from work,” she continues from the doorway. She doesn’t move closer, and for that Bobby is grateful. “Ray said you never came in for dinner.” She takes a deep breath and gets straight to the point – something Bobby admires about her. Something they even used to have in common, before most of what made Bobby Bobby died and left him alone, floundering and completely unsure of who he was. “You listening to music?”

They’ve had this fight before. Rose doesn’t know why, exactly, but she knows Bobby spends far too much time on the dingy garage floor, listening to the demo C.D. over and over and over again. She thinks he needs to get out more; see the sun, meet some new people. She doesn’t want him sitting here drowning in his grief – but drowning is the least Bobby deserves. Rose disagrees, doesn’t blame him, but she also doesn’t know. Before the Orpheum, Rose had never even met Bobby. She never knew the band. Never realized the lengths Bobby would always go to to protect his friends. She didn’t see that what happened before the Orpheum was his biggest failure yet. Luke was the glue that held their popsicle-stick house of a band together, but Bobby was the careful crafter assembling it, making sure that everything stayed in place. That no sticks broke or no stray wood pieces peeled off, frayed, or separated.

Luke had put their puzzle together in the beginning, and Bobby’s job was to frame it and make sure the pieces stayed in place. To display it proudly and make sure nothing ever got damaged.

He failed.

Sunset Curve is gone.

Rose is still staring at him, waiting for a response, but Bobby doesn’t give her one. He no longer cares if she has a front-row seat to his next failure; if he really can’t bring the boys back, and she says I told you so, it won’t be anything Bobby hasn’t heard before. It won’t sting, because Bobby’s entire being is already aching with a pain ten times worse.

He reaches over and hits ‘play’ again, and Luke’s voice rings out through the garage once more.

Take off, last stop, count down ‘til we blast open the top… face-first, full charge, electric hammer to the –

The music cuts off unexpectedly; Bobby jumps and whips his head back around from where it was facing the wall to find Rose, finger still on the ‘stop’ button.

“Enough, Bobby,” she says, her voice sharpening like the dagger she’s about to use to stab Bobby in the back. He knows she isn’t okay with what he does to grieve, knows that she doesn’t really understand it, but Bobby always thought that she would be there to support him.

“You need to stop. This isn’t going to bring them back.” “You don’t get it.” “You can’t keep drowning in misery!” Rose cries. “You still have a life. You have people that care about you. You can’t spend hours upon hours in here, living in the past. I get that you miss them. Missing people is one of the hardest things in the world. But Bobby…”

He finally meets her eyes, and they’re glistening; her cheeks are flushed, and her teeth are clamped down on her bottom lip, holding back tears she’s refusing to let fall. “I’m worried about you. You can’t live like this. It’s time to put the C.D. player away.”

“Put it… away?” The anger prickles his skin and rolls through him slowly, like a tsunami wave pulling back, about to strike a delicate sand castle on a beach. He feels it boiling, bubbling through him, starting at his head, heating up his face, tingling through his neck, clenching up his jaw and his fists as he trembles, trying to shove it back down.

But Rose, stubborn as ever, doesn’t take back her words. She doesn’t even look sorry she said them. Her face has hardened, her confidence restored by finally getting out the words she’s held back for who knows how long. She doesn’t even seem to notice the tsunami; the floodgates have been opened, and she continues speaking, ready to get her thoughts out now and deal with the fallout later.

(Another thing they have in common, but Bobby has to admit he likes it much better the other way around. When he’s not the one that has to respond.)

“You’re never going to heal if you keep listening to it. Or if you keep looking at it, or touching it, or acknowledging it!” Rose snaps. “I’m sorry, okay? I’ve tried to be supportive. But you’re giving me nothing; you’re not even trying to get back to your life! It’s been months. Your friends are gone, and it’s sad – it’s a tragedy, Bobby. But tragedies happen every day, and life doesn’t care. The world doesn’t care. You need to move on anyway. No one said it wasn’t hard. No one said it’s something that you should want for yourself. But you need to do it anyway! You need to wake up.

“You need to find the strength and courage within yourself. Because no one’s going to be able to do it for you. Your friends – your band – they’ll always be with you. A part of you. But you have to use their memory to make something new! You can’t just wallow in this garage.

“Ray and I thought that renting this new house, having you move here, would help. That a change of scenery would be… a fresh start, yeah?” Rose’s voice trembles, and she takes a sharp breath, trying to refocus. Trying to move towards a solution. What she and Ray think that Bobby should do now.

Because God forbid Bobby makes any sort of decision by himself. He hears Rose on the phone with his parents, who pretend to care but stay just far enough away so they don’t have to really deal with it. Who gave Rose their credit card number to pay for Bobby’s therapy, who call for monthly updates. Who basically left Bobby at Rose’s doorstep like an abandoned puppy who got too difficult to care for. And Bobby feels for her, he really does. He just can’t bring himself to care. He’s got other things on his mind right now; namely, the fact that he has to keep waking up day after day when his friends are dead. How he’s expected to live when he no longer feels alive.

“But it doesn’t… it’s not working. And I think – Ray and I think… and your parents think – that more of it has to come from you.

“So, I’m sorry, Bobby, but yeah,” she finishes, finally, her last words pouring salt into the wound she’s been steadily opening up. “You need to get rid of this stuff. I’m gonna keep it for a while.”

She reaches over and picks up the C.D. player with Sunset Curve’s demo still inside.

“Wait!” Before Bobby even realizes what’s happening, he’s lunging forward, the only thought in his mind that he needs to get the C.D. back. Nothing else matters but the C.D. He can deal with Rose’s anger later, once Sunset Curve’s legacy is safely in his hands. He’ll even stop playing it around her. He’ll wait until she goes out. The most important thing is that he knows where the C.D. is at all times.

It’s all he has left of his friends. Of the future that crumbled away to nothing, like the sand castle washed away by the tsunami wave.

“You can’t take them.” “Them?” Rose whispers. “Bobby… they’re already gone.”

“Please,” Bobby grips the C.D. player with both hands, using every bit of energy he has to try to yank it away. “Don’t take them. Give them back.” “This C.D. isn’t them, Bobby.”

The tears Rose has been holding back finally start to fall, but Bobby doesn’t care. “Do you even realize what you’re doing?”

“I think you’re the one who doesn’t realize,” Rose says. “I’m trying to help you.”

“How long’ve you been holding this back?” Bobby spits. “Bottling all this up – avoiding telling me how you really feel? Shit, Rose, I knew my friends didn’t mean anything to you, but I thought that maybe I did.”

“You do!” she insists. “You’re grieving. And you need help, but you also need to do things for yourself. Realizing that you need to let them go is one of those things.”

“If you take that C.D. away from me I’ll never speak to you again.”

His words crack out of his mouth like a whip, and Rose jumps back in surprise. She stares at him for a moment, waiting for him to back down, but he doesn’t. He can’t.

Bobby sees the exact moment the fight drains out of her. The exact moment she stops caring – but as she clicks open the C.D. player and tosses the demo at his feet, he can’t bring himself to care.

Rose recovers quickly, rolling back her shoulders as she adjusts the now-empty C.D. player in her grasp.

“You would have, Bobby. Because you have nothing else. You won’t let yourself have anything else.”

With that, she walks out of the garage, taking the C.D. player – the only way Bobby has to hear his friends’ voices – with her.

It feels like hours pass before Bobby’s able to move again. And the pain, he finds, once he starts to move his limbs, has been replaced with numbness. A new insensitivity left behind after all the care, all the stakes, have been burned out of him. He has nothing left to lose. His friends are gone. Rose is, for the moment at least, gone. He knows she’s right; that eventually, he’ll end up groveling at her feet for forgiveness, because he’s too weak to face the world on his own. Rose built him back up – or, at least, tried to – after the worst night of his life and he’s still depending on her to keep him afloat.

That doesn’t mean he has to be okay with it. For tonight, at least.

Tonight’s mission is to make sure Sunset Curve’s music lives on. If it can’t be through the C.D., it’ll have to just be through him. It’s not ideal; the thought of playing their music again sends a sharp shooting pain through his chest, but nothing about this situation up until now has been his choice. He won’t let Rose take Sunset Curve away.

He’ll figure out a way to get their music out into the world.

Your friends are gone, Bobby. You have nothing else.

He has their music. He has their hopes and their dreams. He has resentment, for Rose and for himself and actually, maybe also for them. Because they died and left Bobby with this mess.

But all Bobby knows is that he needs to listen to the demo again. Rose didn’t take it away yet.

He wipes off the C.D. on his t-shirt and gently replaces it in its case. Then, he thinks about how he could keep his friends’ memories alive without letting Rose – or anyone else, for that matter; people would judge, they’d be just like Rose, they wouldn't understand – know about it.

He thinks about all the people getting ready to hear their songs at the Orpheum. Fans, friends, record execs.

Then he takes a deep, shaky breath, and walks out of the garage.

He has plans to make.

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