#I hope I did Danny justice I’m not very familiar with him

[ideasvoid]

Hiii I hope you still take requests :) if so can I request survivor reader who's from ormond and knows legion and jeffg but ends up having a thing with a different killer? (Preferably deathslinger or ghostface- which is only half licensed so im not sure if you do write for him)

Thank you <33

Hello my lovely <3 I can most certainly try. I apologize if this isn’t exactly what you wanted, you didn’t specify too much on a scenario but that’s ok :) I will always hop at the chance to write my boy Caleb, he needs more love.

I hope you enjoy!

Ghostface - Danny Johnson/Jed Olsen

Sparks burst forward from the rust machine and you quickly raise your hands to shield your face. To say the trial wasn’t going well would be an understatement, currently David was being pulled up by that thing, Claudette was next to you, and the last you had seen Jeff was Two generators ago. Something was off, very wrong yet no matter how you strained your mind you couldn’t put your finger on it.

The machine erupted again, pulling you back to reality. Whatever that was anymore. Claudette stared horrified at the generator, her hands shook horribly and you could see the tears begin to well up behind her cracked glasses. You open your mouth to speak but the sound on a twig snapping cut you off, your throat going dry in seconds as your heart rate spiked. The snap was intentional, it always was.

Click, flash.

The two of you hopped to your feet, splitting off in different directions into the snow. The familiar cold stung your face and hands, fingers somewhere between a stinging pain and numbness that you hoped wasn’t the beginning of frostbite. Crunching of snow faded into the dull thumps and creaks of the wooden floor as you ran through the halls of the decrepit lodge of Ormond. You had spent so much time here before, now those memories felt like another life.

Clinging to the stair railing, you stopped. Straining to hear any footsteps. Was he gone? Certainly he wouldn’t have given up so easily,

Click, flash.

You bolted up the remaining stairs. You knew Ormond like the back of your hand, just up these stairs and around the corner and could jump out that window in the large room – a sudden tug at the back of your shirt halted your moment, said window mere feet away. The sharp edge of a knife came to gently glide along your throat, teasing, for now.

A long whistle came from the man behind you, his arm wrapping itself tightly around your waist, keeping you close to his chest. “So this is your old stomping ground eh?” He chuckled to himself at his clever little joke. “Bit of a dump now, though” his release of you caused you to stumble forward slightly, quickly whipping around to face him “Aw come on now, don’t give me that look” he twirled the blade in his hand as he looked over you, you could practically feel the smile he had on his face under that mask. “Can’t help it, you just look so cute all wide eyed, view up the stairs ain’t too bad either” he dodged you as you swatted at him, laughing as he pulled out his camera.

Click, flash.

“Now now, so violent. And they say I’m bad.” That smile surely got wider “I just wanted to get a nice picture of my favourite lil survivor before you go scurrying’ back that fire of yours. To which-“ Danny held up a finger, waiting a few seconds before a familiar boom resonated through the resort, a boom you could feel in your bones. He pointed to the window you had tried to escape from, slowly pocketing his camera and gripping his knife “I’ll give you a head start, better start runnin baby”

You didn’t need to be told twice as to darted for the window, vaulting it and leaving your kinda boyfriend not far behind. He’d see you later, coaxing you away from the safety of the campfire and into the fog, and you’d be waiting.

The Deathslinger - Caleb Quinn

The cold stung Caleb’s face before he had opened his eyes, winter air dry in his lungs. He had always disliked trials on Ormond, while it lended to numbing the ache in his leg and jaw, the freeze against his skin and snow always slowed his step and threw off his aim. Still, he had a job to do, conditions be damned.

The resort, despite his misgivings, was an interesting place; with tall towers that held strange metal chairs high above the ground and odd flat boards with holsters on them. You had explained the gist of skiing and the resorts old purpose to him, but you’d have to forgive him for not entirely understanding, he’s an old man from an even older time where such things didn’t exist. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the enjoyment from strapping sticks to your feet and skidding down a hill at several miles per hour and slamming directly into a tree in some cases.

A scream sounded throughout the grounds, Dwight thrashed as he was reeled in, hitting the ground with a hard thud as Celeb slashed him across the chest with his bayonet. One, two, three… someone was unaccounted for. He hefted Dwight onto his shoulder, hissing through his teeth as an elbow connected harshly with the back of his neck as he struggled. Caleb lifted the poor man onto the hook, your overlord quick to claim her latest meal.

He only offered the corpse a glance before starting towards the lodge. He had an idea where you’d be, a routine of sorts. The wooden floor groaned in protest as he stepped over debris and broken furniture, the hallway opening up into a large main room, fire crackling in its hearth and sat in front of it was you. Knees pulled to your chest as you stared off into the flames, it looked like you were somewhere else, somewhere he imagined familiar and warm. He approached you quietly, death to Bayshore lowered and at ease.

“You alright there darlin?” His question was quiet, a rare air of gentleness in his voice as he looked you over. When you gave no answer he gave a sigh, looking around before pulling one of the scattered blankets with the least amount of holes from an old chair and draping the raged cloth over your shoulders. Caleb lowered himself down next to you, letting out a groan that reminded you of one a typical dad might make.

An arm wrapped around your shoulders, gently pulling you into his side. “What’s the matter darlin?” You stared into the fire still, the echos of laughter and smiles of better times swirling in your mind.

You’d never see that again, you’d never see your loved ones again. They would never know what happened to you or where you went, you would forever remain a cold case and left in this hell to be murdered over and over and over and over again. You had Jeff, which was a godsend in this hell but even still he was also in the fog with you and the legion… they weren’t the same. No one was coming to save you, no one was coming to save any of you.

“I just…” your words were choked, your throat tightening as tears burned your eyes “I miss home so much… I-“ you tried to continue, but the words wouldn’t come. Caleb pulled you closer wordlessly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You clung to him like he might be ripped away from you too, sobs muffled by his duster.

“I know darlin, I know.”

#dbd imagines #dbd x reader #slasher fic #the deathslinger x reader #caleb quinn x reader #ghostface x reader #danny johnson x reader #jed olsen x reader #I hope I did Danny justice I’m not very familiar with him #oops i made it sad #Caleb my beloved #love that crusty dusty man #wren writes

[dekalko-mania]

D&D: By wastefulreverie: Lester, Mikey, and Nathan were standing beside him. Mikey was fumbling with three jagged-sided dice while Lester and Nathan glared at each other. Realizing that he was awake, Lester broke eye contact with Nathan. Awkwardly, he put his hand on Danny's shoulder. "Do you want to join our campaign?" he blurted.

Danny tilted his head skeptically, "Join your what?"

Additional Tags: Dungeons and Dragons, friendship, humor, [really enjoyed the irony in this one]

Making Something Out of Nothing: By wastefulreverie: When Ishiyama calls Danny into her office, the last thing he expected was to be offered a job.

Additional Tags: Post-reveal, Teacher! Danny, 

Tiny Little Pieces of Ours: By Bellovebug: Danny Fenton was a dreamer. A dreamer of stars, of galaxies, of spaceships and sunsets and snow. He was a dreamer of wildflowers in the forest, of messages left on the insides of folders set up to take a test, of Polaroids an unknown person has dropped on the street. He was a dreamer of the things that didn't matter, because the things that did scared him.

But dreams don't last forever. And when Danny is gone, he leaves many in his wake.

(Or, a look at Danny's death, and the lives of the people in his life afterwards.)

Additional Tags: Major Character Death, hurt Danny, grieving, Sam and Tucker Centric, [This one hurt so much, but is very beautifully written. Still hurts even now lmao]

A Play to Remember: By AppleScentedLazers: When Danny's drama class puts on a play and Fenton is cast as his own crime fighting counterpart, what's the worst that could happen? With a new villain rising and lines to learn, the people of Amity start to see that there may be more to their resident ghost boy than meets the eye.

Additional Tags: Angst, [interesting reveal concept! more in-depth A-listers]

I’m Still Here: By Cordria: Buried in the backyard, Danny's locked away in a forgotten Thermos. When it's finally found seventy years later, Danny is released and he needs to learn to deal with his new life. Can he survive what the future can throw at him?

Additional Tags: Angst [definitely nostalgic angst]

The Scrapbook: By Dragon Elexus: Fearful of Jazz's idolism of the ghost-boy, Maddie tries to protect her daughter by stealing her Phantom scrapbook. But the book sparks strange questions in Maddie's mind, and she finds herself stumbling on secrets she never knew existed. Pre-PP.

Additional Tags: Family

Exposed: By ADraconicScribe: A mysterious caller has revealed that the infamous Danny Phantom is half-human, placing a five hundred thousand dollar prize to the one who exposes Phantom's secret identity. Coupled with Vlad's disappearance, the ghost fighting, and all of the efforts to capture him, Danny and his friends must tread carefully if they are to make it out with their secrets, and their lives, intact.

Additional Tags: angst, BAMF Danny Fenton, Identity Reveal, Sam and Tucker are good friends, [I cannot stress how amazing this fic is, extremely well written, such an intense plot. Endless twists and turns, so so good.]

Maybe We’ll Find Each Other: By DP_Marvel94: Phantom, the adoptive son of Clockwork, doesn't remember his life but wishes he did. Jack Fenton, ghost hunter, lost his only son at a young age. When the portal activates, a newly half-human Phantom stumbles into Jack's lab, barely a painfully familiar blue-eyed, black haired form.

Additional Tags: Full ghost to half ghost Phantom, Ghosts think halfas are abominations, father-son relationship, but neither know they’re parent and child [very very interesting story, super cool concept!]

Katzenjammer: By DannyPhantomSG1, sapphireswimming: Danny's had enough. Of everything. But thankfully Tucker understands.

Additional Tags: Oneshot, Half Ghost Angst, Hurt/comfort, Friendship

Hope Can Be a Heavy Thing to Hold: By DP_Marvel94: " I woke up here, wherever here is, with no memories. He told me my name is Daniel James Masters. He told me I am a human-ghost hybrid, like him. He told me he is my father. But I know that’s a lie; there is no way Vlad Masters, my captor is my parent. I know I have a real home somewhere out there. I have a family and friends who love me. Too bad I can’t remember anything about them."

Additional Tags: Amnesia, child abuse, Diary/journal, poor Danny can’t remember anything 

Abigail the Tree Girl: By EchoGhost: Danny didn’t see his first ghost at 14.

Additional Tags: Haunted Amity Park, Danny has always been weird, clueless Danny

Just Fourteen: By aniura: Danny Fenton is an average high school student whose biggest worry is getting the grades needed to become an astronaut. That is, until his friend Sam convinces him to step inside his parents' broken ghost portal...Updates bi-weekly on Sundays. Covers Danny's time at Casper High before the accident and the month afterwards.

Additional Tags: Angst, origin, the accident, Danny is NOT okay, [really cool fic that fills in the gaps that weren’t delved into during the show] 

The Phantom and the Knight: By savya398: After two years Danny Fenton finally felt like he was getting this whole superhero thing under control. So of course something had to come along and ruin everything.

Additional Tags: Danny Phantom/Young Justice, DC Animated Universe, [little twist on Danny’s origins]

Six Degrees of Separation: By Miss_Nihilist: Valerie Gray was not one for doubt and regret, but that was before she fell in love — and then, promptly and without a second thought, threw it away.

She wasn't looking for them to get back together or even to automatically be friends again. But maybe, just maybe, Valerie could get a second chance at being a decent person. For Danny, for herself, and for all the mistakes she had made.

Additional Tags: Moving On, Post break-up, hurt/comfort, identity reveal

Three for the Price of One: By Marsalias: They had only meant to summon ONE ghost...

Additional Tags: cult, summoning

When the Kingdom Comes Calling: By blueh: The Ghost Zone population assumes that Phantom took the crown with dignity. What they don’t know is fifteen year old Danny Fenton just wants to graduate high school, is constantly ready to throw hands with an army of eyeballs, and absolutely will not be crowned the Ghost King without a fight.

Additional Tags: Not PP compliant, ghost king Danny Fenton, fluff and humor, reluctant king au, [so funny and so on character for a little shit like Danny oof]

#lets pretend its friday and not saturday ok lmao #Phanfic Friday #Danny Phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #fics recs #danny fenton #valerie gray #sam manson #Tucker Foley

[ave-aria]

Rewind

Ectober Week 2020 Day 3: Rewind Summary: Maddie can't believe what she's seeing on the security tape. In shock, she hits rewind. Tags: Reveal fic, Blood, Angst, Implications of character death, Tragedy, Trauma, Oneshot

-

Rewind.

Maddie keeps her eyes on the tv screen as the figures wind their way backwards to the start of the video. She won't look away. Can't. Doesn't dare.

If she looks away, she'll have to focus on something else. The quiet, dusty lab around her. The uncleaned ecto-weapons by the door. The green blood smattered on the blade.

The hollow, empty house looming over her head…

The video hiccups a bit as she hits the start of the feed. Old VHS tapes are odd like that, buzzing out with static where the film wore thin from too many pauses and restarts. It's a sign she's hit the beginning. Maddie presses play.

"Mom and Dad would kill me if they knew I let you down here."

It was an old security tape, filched from the lab. Onscreen, three teenagers, her son at the lead, slip into the camera's field of view. Maddie leans closer, enraptured by the movement, even though she's seen this moment enough times to have it seared into her brain.

Maybe, if she focuses hard enough, she can learn the secret - how to rewind her own mistakes, go back to a time when none of it has happened, just like in the video.

"Whoa, check it out! This thing's huge! I can't believe your parents built this!" A pause, while the kid adjusts his glasses. "Bummer that it doesn't work though, dude."

"Damn. Was it really supposed to open a portal to the underworld?"

"It's 'The Ghost Zone,' Sam. And yeah. My parents were pretty heartbroken when it didn't work. It kinda just… fizzled out. I hope they're not too upset."

The detached, clinical angle of the shot doesn't do the moment justice. Danny'd always been such a kind boy, thoughtful and empathetic to a fault. Maddie's throat closes up a little, leaving her struggling to breathe. They had been upset. Unbearably so. Their life's work - as Danny put it - fizzled out before their very eyes. It'd been a hard loss to take, one that she and Jack might never have recovered from, had the Portal not miraculously started working on its own, days later.

God. Now she almost wishes it hadn't.

A bright flash draws her from her reverie. Maddie blinks at the screen. A camera flash. In her distraction, she's missed part of the video; Tucker's casual "Lighten up, dude,", Sam's request for a photo op, Danny grabbing a hazmat suit to pose with while she dug the device from her backpack.

"—Got it," Sam waves the printed Polaroid to air out the negative.

"Okay. I showed you the portal. Can we get out of here now? My parents could be back here any minute."

Where had they been that day, anyway? Maddie wonders. Grocery shopping? Visiting the park? Moping, as they tried anything to get their minds off of their most recent failure? If they'd been there —

If they'd been there—

"Come on, Danny," comes Sam's voice, treacherous in its fascination. "A Ghost Zone? Aren't you curious?"

Danny looks into the Portal, clutching the custom white suit made specially for him. Sam smirks, knowing. "You gotta check it out."

Maddie hits pause.

Rewind.

"You gotta check it out."

Pause. Rewind.

"You gotta check it out."

Rewind.

"—gotta check it out."

The remote feels cold and heavy, like ice in her hand. In that moment, a selfishness grips her. She could blame Sam. For all if it. Everything that happened, it all started here, and it started because—

—But she can't blame Sam, because the next moment, Danny turns back, his eyes sparkling with an adventurous spirit. It's a spark of curiosity, brimming at the thought of the unknown; a look she's all too familiar with, one she's seen often on her daughter's face, her husband's - even her own, in the mirror.

"You know what? You're right. Who knows what kind of awesome, super cool things exist on the other side of that Portal?"

That curiosity, it's a Fenton trait, not one that needs to be stoked like a fire. That spark's been burning within him, since the cradle.

"Don't go in," she whispers, as if her advice could change the course of history. Even if he could hear her, though, it would be no use. He can no more resist the call than he can resist breathing.

He pulls on the hazmat suit. Skintight, white with black edging. It's like staring at a photo-negative. Watching her son, Maddie's stomach twists.

How couldn't she see it before?

"Alright. I'm going in." He says. His first footsteps echo, loud, in the hollow of the blacked out Portal…

Maddie's breath shudders in. She grips the remote and, before she can stop herself, hits the button.

Rewind.

She watches as her son walks backwards, double-time, out of the entrance to the Portal. The panic that gripped her fades.

"Mads?" From somewhere up above, echoing down the staircase, comes her husband's voice. Maddie is glued to the video screen, and almost doesn't hear him. Regardless, she definitely can't answer. What would she even say?

"Maddie?" His heavy footsteps echo in the stairwell, trudging closer. "Are you down there?"

A hitch in the tape. Maddie presses play.

"Mom and Dad would kill me if they knew I let you down here."

Drawn by the sound, Jack trudges the rest of the way down the narrow staircase. She feels a slight reverberation in the floor when he reaches the landing behind her. She doesn't turn around.

"The police called back. Officer McNally said he'd file a missing persons report, and they promised to keep their eyes open. But—" she hears the way uncertainty causes his voice to die in his throat when she doesn't turn to greet him. After a long moment of silence, he draws up to her side. "What are you watching?" he asks at last.

"It kinda just… fizzled out. I hope they're not too upset."

Question. He'd asked a question. Maddie swallows and struggles to answer. "Security tapes," she chokes out.

Understanding, an incomplete kind, dawns on Jack, and vigor jumps back into his bones. "Mads, that's brilliant!" he booms. "Why didn't I think of it? He comes into the lab all the time! We can use the security tapes to see when he last—"

"I found this tape in Danny's room," she interrupts.

Again, his voice falters in confusion.

"Under the bed," she elaborates, as if that will help. And continues watching, detached.

"Can we get out of here now? My parents could be back any minute."

The flickering light of the tv fills the lab, ominous in its glow. Jack hesitates. Maybe he's picked up on the subtext by now. Maddie can picture his eyes drifting from the staticy screen to the items in front of it, scattered across the table. He reaches out fro the shoebox sitting beside the tv. Taped to its front, written in the cursive, unmistakable scrawl of their son's handwriting, is a note that reads:

'If I Never Come Home'

"Maddie, what is this." Jack's voice is uncharacteristically heavy. Looking to her for guidance. For answers.

For once, she has none to give.

"Watch," Maddie whispers, still trapped by the screen. Automatic, her fingers hit the button.

Rewind.

With no other options to grasp at, he does.

"Mom and Dad would kill me if they knew I let you down here."

Watches as the kids approach the Portal.

"Aren't you curious?"

Watches as their son zips up the hazmat suit.

"Alright, I'm going in."

Watches as he disappears into the empty cavity of their greatest invention.

Click.

Watches as it thrums to life, with a scream.

"Da—Danny no!" Jack yells in tandem with the two remaining teens. He lurches forward, hand outstretched, to stop the agony onscreen. "He's not - when did he -"

"It's old, Jack," Maddie whispers. "From when the Portal started working."

Jack spins to stare at her. "You mean - Danny's the one who—" he's visibly struggling with the information, the same way she did, on her first viewing. "But—he never said—"

Right, Madie thinks. He never said anything. Jack's confusion is laughable, though. Why Danny never told them—that much is painfully clear.

"Guys?" Over the yelling and the panicking and the electric cackle from the Portal, their son's terrified voice cuts through the din. "G-guys help, what's happening?!"

Tucker and Sam are black silhouettes stumbling backwards from a swirling green glow, but they freeze and scramble to right themselves, lurching forward to catch someone as he stumbles through the gate.

Phantom - Danny - emerges from the portal, falling to his knees.

"…No," Jack says. Disbelief is thick in his voice. "That can't be… no."

Maddie lifts the remote.

Rewind.

A flash of light. A curdling scream. A shock of confusion, panic, scramble.

Danny Phantom stumbles from the portal.

Jack stares for a long time. Then he reaches out, snatching the lid of the shoebox for a second look at the evidence. The note, accusatory, stares back at them.

"This is how he tells us." Jack doesn't often whisper, but it seems like he can't do anything else. Her husband looks at the empty shoebox, the screen, the VCR. "Our son is Danny Phantom, and this is how he tells us. I…" he trails off.

Maddie almost can't believe it, how easily Jack arrives at the conclusion. It took her twelve viewings for her to wrap her mind around it, and it still hasn't really sunk in. But then, that's always been Jack's strong poing - those intuitive leaps of logic. Ones every scientist both loathed and envied.

"Did it kill him?" he moves seamlessly onto the next question that tripped her. Somehow, Jack's voice is even quieter this time.

Maddie shakes her head no. If they watch the video long enough, about ten minutes in, Danny manages to change his way back to human. If their invention did kill him, it wasn't permanent. Not that time, at least.

She's too close to thinking about it.

Rewind.

"But—" she can't stop Jack from thinking, though. He barrels on, heedless of breaking the fragile grasp Maddie has on her sanity. "But if all this time — Phantom—"

A hitch in the tape.

"We've been—"

Press play.

"Mom and Dad would kill me if they knew I let you down here."

"—Don't tell me we've been trying to waste our own kid—"

If Maddie weren't so detached, she might laugh. Waste. God, he can't even say it.

"Trying?" she asks instead. Bitter, the word sticks to her tongue.

She's not looking at the tape now. She's looking at him. And Jack, oh, Jack, he just stares down at her, a dark horror growing in his eyes.

He whips around to look at the bloodied weapons sitting at the base of the stairs.

Exactly where they left them two days ago, after that nasty ghost fight. When they came home to find a broken house, their daughter crying at the kitchen table, and their son just - gone.

"No." Jack backs up a step. "No no no no no no no—"

A flash of light. A curdling scream—

In an instant, Jack is moving. He snatches up weapons, whatever he can find, and bolts for the staircase, vaulting his way up to ground floor. Distantly, Maddie hears the doors slam. The RV thrumming to life. The screech of tires as Jack peels out of the driveway.

In the cold wake of his departure, Maddie turns back to the tv. She should go after him, she knows. But she's not quite done watching. Jack's always been a man of action, after all, but she's the analytical one, who studies, who marvels, who gathers the facts she sees.

Phantom, onscreen, slumps against his friends while he drips ectoplasm to the floor. He stares down at his white-gloved hands, his glowing green eyes wide in shock. Maddie wonders if he knew, then, what would become of him. What his parents, who raised him, who swore to protect him, would do.

She can't face those questions. Not yet. Not yet. Instead, she lifts the remote.

And rewinds.

A good scientist, a rational scientist, never draws conclusions while she's still gathering evidence. So as long as she's still watching—

A hitch in the tape. She's at the beginning. Maddie presses play.

"Mom and Dad would kill me if they knew I let you down here."

As long as she keeps watching, she doesn't have to do anything with this information. All she has to do is watch.

So she watches. She rewinds. And she plays. She can't look away—

"Mom and Dad would kill me if they knew I let you down here—"

She doesn't dare.

"Mom and Dad would kill me if they knew I let you down h—"

All she can do is rewind—

"Mom and Dad would kill me if they knew I let y—"

And rewind—and rewind—

"Mom and Dad would kill me if—"

Until she finds evidence contrary to her theory…

"Mom and Dad would kill me—"

Or she finds Its inevitable End.

"Mom and Dad would kill me if they knew I let you down here."

Rewind.

"Mom and Dad would kill me if they—"

Rewind.

"Mom—"

Rewind.

"Mom—"

Rewind.

"Mom—"

-

[AO3] [FFN]

#Danny Phantom #Ectober #EctoberWeek2020 #Rewind #Reveal Fic #Identity Reveal #Maddie Fenton #Jack Fenton #Character Death #sorry for the length #oneshot

[doctenwho]

Alec’s Emergency Contact

Welcome back! I loved this prompt! It was so cute and I really got carried away writing! I believe I stuck to the main idea, but there’s a lot of fluff in here too, and Alec having a bit of personality because he’s with someone he loves (like with Daisy).

Hopefully I got his character right, since I’ve not posted anything Broadchurch yet, and sometimes it takes me a couple tries to get a character right. A couple small spoilers for season 1 along the way, but nothing too big, I don’t think. Anyways, I hope you like it as much as I liked writing it! 

Warnings: None, I don’t think.

Word Count: 3,722

Summary: Read the prompt :)

(Gif doesn’t belong to me, credit to creator!)

Alec Hardy did not remember a whole lot before he went down. He and Miller were chasing whomever had Danny Latimer’s cellphone, and then, well, he got a bit overexerted? Ran out of steam? Lost his footing?

Alright fine, he nearly died. He worked his heart too hard, and he collapsed on the job. Not only that, he collapsed in front of Miller. Damn Miller. How was he supposed to hide it from her now? He’d done so well at hiding his heart arrhythmia from everyone in Broadchurch, but now Ellie knows, and if Ellie knows, it won’t be long until everyone knows. Especially if it’s something regarding his wellbeing.

Bloody small towns. 

It wasn’t intentional, that much he knew. He really hadn’t been meaning to work himself to the bone just yet, not when there was still so much to be doing for the case. He’d be no use to the case if he were dead, and then no one would get justice and Danny’s killer would walk free, despite his unforgivable deed.

But he also couldn’t just stop because his heart decided it didn’t want to endure the difficulties of being a Detective Inspector. He had promises to keep, to the families of the victims, to the victims themselves—and to himself.

He’d told himself he’d get justice for Danny and his family if it was the last thing he did, which might just be what it comes down to. He’d told himself the same thing about the Sandbrook case, but he’d be damned if another case took a sour turn like Sandbrook had.  

He would get justice for these children. For the three misfortunate kids (and teenager), and the families to lose them far too soon. He owed them that much.

Hardy had blinked his eyes open, only to shut them just as fast. The light streamed into the room, bright and white, and almost blinding. He was reclined in the bed, covered by a blanket and propped up on a pillow or two.

He was no stranger to hospital rooms, in Sandbrook and in Broadchurch, and with this stupid heart arrhythmia, he was sure this wouldn’t be the last time either.

Even if he did try to stay out of stressful situations, and give his heart breaks, it was only getting worse. He’d need the peacemaker to really aid in his wellbeing. But he couldn’t commit to an operation when he was so close to cracking the Danny Latimer case and getting the boy the justice he deserved.  

The room was quiet, a soft beeping of a heart monitor announcing his heart beats, which had thankfully steadied. It wasn’t erratic, or beating out of his chest as it had been during the chase. Small victories he supposed.  

Hardy turned a bit onto his side to look around the room, studying the monitor and it’s reading, as well as the IV drip in his hand. He huffed a quiet breath at the medical equipment before turning on to his other side and almost dropping back onto his back in hazy surprise at hearing an irritated voice huff a rather annoyed, “well, look who’s back in the land of the living.” which was followed by his eyes landing on a very familiar, annoyed, face.

“(Y/N),” Hardy breathed out, trying to prop himself up on his elbows to get a better look at his boyfriend who should currently be home, hours away from Broadchurch, “what... what are you doing here? Why are you in Broadchurch?”

“Well,” you clicked your tongue, arms crossed across your chest, “as it turns out, when a loved one is literally dying, the hospital tends to contact your emergency contact.”

“I wasn’t dying,” Hardy tried to wave it off, rolling his eyes at his boyfriend. He couldn’t help the tug of guilt in his chest though, which in turn, made his heart skip a noticeable beat on the heart monitor. He glanced slowly at the machine, before looking back to his frustrated boyfriend.  

“No, you really were,” (Y/N) frowned, eyes locked on the machine to just give a warning beep, before you were casting your look back on your hospitalized boyfriend, “they told me you were dying.”

“They... they’re not allowed to tell you that.” Alec huffed, pulling himself up. You stood to adjust his pillows so he could sit up a bit more, and Alec didn’t seem bothered by you doing so.  

He wasn’t the fondest of being cared for, but honestly, you didn’t really care about that right now. Not when he looked so pitiful tucked away in a hospital bed after almost dying while chasing a supposed murderer.  

You’d heard the whole story form his new partner, who’d just stepped out to get the two of you coffee, just before Alec finally woke up.

You really needed the coffee since you’d driven almost all night to sit by Alec’s bedside until he woke up so you could scold him properly. 

Ellie clearly had the same idea, since she’d also been up all night with him, and it almost made you smile. Or, it would’ve if Alec hadn’t been in the Intensive Care Unit at your arrival.  

He’d been moved to a regular room shortly after when his heart steadied out, and you couldn’t be more thankful you could sit with him here. 

It was the worst feeling to have a loved one be so close to dying and not be able to see them—or hold their hand, which you hadn’t put down when you’d finally gotten a hold of. At least until Alec showed signs of waking, then you remembered you were cross with him.  

Ellie had been a lovely woman, charming and pleasant since you’d met her in the waiting room. You really weren’t sure how she had managed to put up with Alec, but then again, everyone always wondered how you could do the same thing. 

You’d heard bits and pieces of Ellie Miller from Alec over the phone, but you knew very little. He didn’t share every detail, but he was always happy to rant and grumble about things that annoyed him about people and work, and even Broadchurch as a whole.  

She was a good partner for him if she could manage to put up with him, and you’d expressed how thankful you were that she’d been there for Alec. You couldn’t even imagine if he’d had an arrhythmia when he was by himself.  

“They’re supposed to tell me everything that puts you in the hospital, Alec. Anytime you’re admitted, I should be the first person to know. Just like you’d like to know if I were admitted into the hospital, wouldn’t you?” Alec looked down to his lap, which was confirmation enough.

You rolled your eyes at the man in the bed, annoyed but fond all the same. You wanted to reach for his hand again, now that he was conscious and would squeeze your hand back like he always did, but you were still angry at him, “in fact, I’m a bit pissed off I wasn’t contacted when you fell in the restroom in your hotel room just after you got here. And even if they didn’t tell me, you should’ve rung me. You can’t keep these things a secret from me, not when it’s your health we’re talking about.”

“Hey, that one wasn’t my fault,” Alec frowned. “I was just as surprised as you were, I’m sure. It wasn’t a secret, I just... I don’t want to worry you.”

“I know,” you sighed, leaning back in the chair tiredly, “we’ll still talk about it later. And it’s my job to be worried about you. I only agreed to you coming here alone because you promised to look after yourself if I wasn’t here with you. I know how you feel about small towns and the gossip associated, but I’m not going to stand back and watch you work yourself into an early grave because you don’t want people talking about us.”

“It’s not that I don’t want them talking about us,” he stressed the word, “it’s that I don’t want you being hassled by newspapers for information about cases—and I certainly don’t want them focusing on us when there’s been a child murdered. Not everyone’ll be accepting of us—especially here with all the local chatter and that bloody Broadchurch Echo newspaper.”

He paused for a beat before lifting his attention and giving you a soft glare, “and I’ve been looking after myself,” Alec muttered, offended by the observation. “And if I haven’t, Millhur has been. She brings me tea, and... chips. I’m fine.”

“Of course,” you sniped, “it sure looks like you’ve been watching over yourself, Love.” You gestured easily along the length of Alec, curled up in a hospital bed. The man returned a look of irritation, but it didn’t bother you. “Honestly, you’d probably be far worse off if Ellie hadn’t been keeping an eye on you, which thankfully she has been watching out for your sorry arse.”

“Ellie,” the man wrinkled his nose, narrowing his eyes at your tense figure, “since when have you been buddy-buddy with Millhur?”

“Since the two of us sat up all night together waiting for a certain hospitalized spoon to come to.”

Once again Alec looked offended. Spoon wasn’t exactly an endearing nickname, but you were still upset with him. He was probably just upset that you finally met the Miller he talked almost fondly about, in his grouchy Alec way whenever the two of you spoke on the phone.  

You took a breath, exhaling slowly before launching yourself into another round of telling him off, which he clearly needed to hear, “I just can’t understand why you’d throw yourself into a situation you knew you were in no shape to be handling. Your heart is weak, Alec. You can’t be stressing, or overexerting yourself. You need to be careful, and chasing after a murder in the dead of night is certainly not careful.”

“I was doing my job,” Alec let his head fall back against the pillows propping him up. “I was doing what I’m getting paid to do. I’m doing what’s morally right for the families of the children who were murdered.”

“I know that,” you promised, “but, you’re not the only detective the world, Alec,” you tried to keep yourself from exclaiming, “you may be one of the best, but you’re not the only one. And you certainly won’t be any help when you’re six feet under because you ignored your own needs, and your body’s pleas for you to stop and take it easy for once!”

Alec’s lips curled up into a scowl, but he looked a bit more guilty that he really looked mad. You hated making him feel guilty for helping others, and being a truly amazing detective by bringing in bad guys, but you’d much rather this look guilty than, be attending his funeral because he ignored every word of advice ever given to him.  

It didn’t matter who said it, whether it be you, a doctor, a specialist, Daisy, or even his ex-wife, once he put his mind to something, there was nothing anyone could say to make him stop and reconsider. But you’d known that since way back when, when the two of you had started dating.

“You seriously almost died, Alec.” You sighed, looking down at the floor, “do you know how awful it is to get a call like that in the early hours of the morning? Someone phoning you to tell you that your boyfriend had been rushed to hospital after collapsing at work?”

“I know,” he whispered, reaching a hand out, barely hanging over the edge of the bed, “I know, Love, and I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to. But I couldn’t let him get away; I can’t do that to Danny. This case will not end the same way it did for Pippa and Lisa. I won’t let it—I can’t let it.”

You’d been following the case via news articles and police statements. You were proud of Alec for what he did for a living, despite fearing that it would eventually be the death of him. He really did so much for the victims and their families, more than anyone could know. He always worked so hard to bring in offenders, especially murderers.  

You also knew the details of the Sandbrook case—you knew everything because he’d told you. You probably knew more than most of the officers at Sandbrook, because you believed him wholeheartedly. He was a good, kindhearted man. Just a bit tough on the outside.  

“You can’t help anyone if you’re dead,” you reminded with a sigh, reaching across the gap between his bed and your chair to finally take his hand into your own. It was brutal, but it was the truth. You just hoped it would sink in for Alec.  

Alec squeezed your hand just like you were silently praying he would. It was comforting, quieting your raging emotions if only for a moment. He was okay, he’d survived and he was here talking to you.  

“I hope I’m not stressing you out,” you whispered as you scooted your chair a bit closer to the bed so you weren’t reaching quite as far. “That would be counterproductive.”    

“Nah,” he shook his head, giving you a small smile and bringing your hand to his mouth so he could press a kiss to the back of your hand which was still held tightly in his, “you’ve just been telling me what I needed to hear from someone other than myself. I know all this, but I can’t just stop. Health aside, there’s a family—three families—who have lost their children.”

“But what if I lose you?” you couldn’t help but ask, “or if Daisy loses her father? And what about Ellie? I’m quite sure she’s grown a bit fond of you as well, though I’m not sure how that happened,” you teased lightly. It was just to ease the tension a bit. The man gave you a small, sad smile, before he was looking up to the ceiling thoughtfully.  

“Alright, alright,” he sighed, “I’ll try to be a bit more careful. For Daisy and you... and, well, I suppose for Millhur too. But I will not stop. We’re so close to catching Danny’s killer. I don’t care what anyone has to say, that bastard will not get away with this.”

“You’ll get the sick bastard who did this,” you told him, because it was what he needed to hear. “You and Ellie. The two of you will catch this guy. I know you will, because that’s what you do.”

You paused for a second before turning towards him and frowning, “but for the love of God, don’t kill yourself trying, y’hear?”

“I hear,” Alec laughed. “I’m alright now,” he assured, pulling your hand halfheartedly towards himself. You huffed a small laugh, standing up so you could sit on the side of the bed against the headboard like he was silently requesting you do. Alec smiled at you, shifting closer so he could tuck his head into your side. “I’ll be alright. I’ll be alright, and I’ll catch the bastard to kill Danny Latimer.”

“I expect nothing less,” you snorted, trailing your fingers through his hair now that he was within reach and apparently seeking affection, “now you need to relax for a while if you expect me to let you return to work as fast as I know you’re going to want me too.”

“I should get back today-”

“Absolutely not. You just don’t know when to quit, do you?” you muttered in fond disbelief, “tomorrow afternoon at the earliest. And you’re going to be sticking around Ellie, or so help me, I’ll kill you myself.”

“Yes, fine,” Alec rolled his eyes, “tomorrow, and I’ll stick close to Millhur. Happy then?”

“Immensely,” you deadpanned before grinning at the man cuddled into your side. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

----

To say Ellie was surprised to find out that her boss had such a pleasant boyfriend was a bit of an understatement. She probably shouldn’t have been so surprised at the knowledge that he wasn’t as lonely and miserable in the dating department as she’d thought, since he’d not said a word about himself since arriving.  

He’d only told her about his daughter when Joe had prompted him into it when Hardy had come around their house for dinner. Hell, he’d not even bothered to tell her he had severe heart arrhythmia.  

That wasn’t something someone should keep from their friend.

He really could’ve died, and she was fully prepared to lay into him for keeping that secret the moment he woke up, when (Y/N) had rushed in the doors demanding to know how he was.

Like the polite person she was, Ellie had introduced herself to the mystery man pleading to see her boss, only to find out the jerk had this secret boyfriend he hadn’t bothered mentioning.  

She knew bare minimum of his ex-wife, so it was a bit of a surprise that he had a boyfriend, not that she minded. He could be into anyone he fancied and nothing could change what she thought of him. He’d always be Hardy, a bit of a prick, but one of the best people she’d ever known.

They’d gotten around to talking, waiting into the late hours of the morning before Hardy was moved from Intensive Care and into a regular room, where the two of them were allowed to sit with him.  

Ellie thought it was adorable how (Y/N) pushed his chair up right close to the bed and held her boss’ hand. It was strange to see Hardy like this, to see him have someone who clearly loved and cared for him, holding his hand and sitting without moving for hours.  

She was happy he had someone. She’d never say it out loud, and never to Hardy, but she knew he was too good to be alone. That it wasn’t right that a man like Hardy would be single, even though he was a bit of an odd guy.

(Y/N) seemed like a lovely guy. Doting and caring. He told her stories that she was sure Hardy would’ve lost his mind if he knew she knew them, but (Y/N) didn’t seem bothered at the fact, and instead only shot fond looks at Hardy as he retold the stories.

He didn’t tell her much about Hardy in general—like his daughter or ex, or even mention his illness or anything along the lines, but he had ample stories and fond memories of the two of them he was happy to share.  

Ellie could barely even imagine her Hardy—the Hardy in the bed to be the man in (Y/N)’s stories. But it was adorable and heartwarming all the same. It made her happy that Hardy had someone like (Y/N).

And it made he even happier that (Y/N) was scolding Hardy like she wanted too as well. Not that she meant to eavesdrop outside the door, but it really doesn’t take more than ten minutes to get coffee from the cafeteria in the hospital.  

They were the cutest thing, and she’d be sure to tease Hardy a bunch about his adorable boyfriend when he was feeling better. And she definitely would because it wasn’t every day that an important person from Hardy’s life makes an appearance.  

When the talking inside the room died down to an occasional mumble, Ellie finally rapped her knuckles twice without managing to spill any coffee as a warning before pushing it open with her elbow, two to-go cups of barely warmer than lukewarm coffee in her hands.  

“’ello, Sir,” she grinned, containing the ‘aw’ sitting on the tip of her tongue as she took in her boss cuddled into his boyfriend, “feeling better?”

“I’m fine,” he waved her off with a scowl that was all too familiar at this point. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen the man without a scowl if she were honest. 

He didn’t bother moving away from his boyfriend though, as she feared he would’ve done since he was Hardy, and that alone warmed her heart.

“Well, don’t the two of you look all cozy,” she couldn’t resist teasing. She stepped into the room, handing the second cup of coffee to (Y/N). He took the cup gratefully, grinning widely at the comment before taking a sip of his coffee and leaning back against the pillows.

“Sod off, Millhur,” the man reclined in the bed sighed. He even sounded tired, but she resisted the urge to frown. Frowning wouldn’t help anyone.  

“Of course, Sir.”

“You make her call you sir?” (Y/N) looked down at Hardy with a teasing smile, “why can’t she call you Alec?”

“I don’t like Alec,” Hardy groaned turning his head to bury his face in (Y/N)’s shirt, “never liked Alec, you know that. Don’t like it when you call me Alec either, but can’t very well stop you now can I?”

“I can call you Sir too, if you’d like?”

“Right, I should go then,” Ellie retreated, a bit awkward that (Y/N) was actually teasing her boss. No one she knew (besides herself to a way lesser degree) would ever even think about teasing Alec Hardy. 

Plus, she really didn’t want to see where this teasing ended, not if it could possibly ruin her ever calling Hardy sir again. There were so few names she could actually call him, and she really didn’t want Sir to be ruined for her. “I’ll see you back at work, Sir. In a day or two.”

“A day,” Hardy replied easily. Ellie nodded, not bothering to try and get the man to stay in the hospital any longer. Not when she already knew it was a lost cause, especially if (Y/N) hadn’t been successful, “oh and Millhur?”

Ellie paused, looking back into the room to see he boss’ eyes on her, “if we can keep this between us for now? Not that it’s a secret, just--”

“Of course,” Ellie agreed instantly, “it’s yours to share when you do. I won’t say anything. Even though there’s really nothing to share.”

“Thank you.”

“You... just feel better, alright? We’ve got a killer to catch and I can’t do that without you.”

<><><><>

Thanks so much for the prompt, and for reading! Feel free to send another ask if this wasn’t what you were looking for, but hopefully it is!

Also, let me know if I messed up anywhere with male reader pronouns, I read through a couple times, but they might’ve slipped past me!

#alec hardy #alec hardy x reader #alec hardy x male reader #ellie miller #broadchurch #reader insert #writing prompt #male reader

[ecto-american]

Hello! If your taking prompts, could you do one where Danny both loses his memory about his family and friends and gets brainwashed by the guys in white that he's a full ghost, then released back into amity park with some faint idea of some connection, but not sure what. Thank you!

I take prompts within reason

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The dust began to fully settle, and the agent squinted through the mask. He tried to pick out that familiar form in the dust, that was trying to fly away as it always did. Escaping justice, but he saw nothing as smoke began to cloud the skies.

“There!” his partner cried out, and he pointed to a limp figure. The ghost they had been hunting, the town menace that began all of this, laid over a bit of rubble, motionless. 

The agent kicked up dust of his own, scrambling to get to the ghost. He could hear his partner following suit, and they rushed towards a ghost that made absolutely no movements. They both, nearly in unison, skidded to a halt right before they could touch him. A flash of light had interrupted their actions. Hearts racing, they watched as this light blinded both of them. By the time it faded, almost as quickly as it had come, they were left looking at...a boy. 

Neither made any movements to do anything, and Phantom (?) made no movements either. The agent hesitantly reached out to grab a handful of black hair that was slowly becoming caked in blood, so very different than the white hair of their target. He lifted his head up, bending over a bit to get a look at the face. The resemblance to Phantom was arguable. Paler, but if given a good hair bleaching, this could be Phantom.

Slowly, his other hand lightly patted the boy’s cheek. Bright green eyes opened halfway, staring up at him in confusion. Unmistakable green eyes that glowed like a ghost’s, like Phantom. They dropped closed, only to snap open once more. Bright blue eyes, looking more like a pair he’d see on a fellow agent, were now looking at him. Confused, scared, dazed. 

“Sir, did you see that?” his partner’s voice was audible. The boy’s eyes closed fully once more. The agent spared a glance at the other agent. He was nodding with one hand pressed to his headset, listening to what their boss was telling him. “Yes, sir...Right away, sir...No, sir...We’ll be there shortly, sir.” He gestured to the teenager. “Pack him up. The boss wants to bring him in for questioning.”

The agent carefully let go of the hair. The boy’s head hung still, and the only audible noise from him was pained, labored breathing. His partner had gone to fetch their vehicle while he stood guard. And before anybody seemed to notice, before most of Amity Park could truly recover from the attack, they had loaded up the mysterious teenager and were already gone.

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His name was Daniel James Fenton. A background check revealed that he was a seventeen year old student at Casper High. The youngest in a family of four, son of Madeline Anne Walker and Jack Harrison Fenton and a brother to Jasmine Elizabeth Fenton. 

He had no criminal record that they could find, though he reportedly got into trouble often at school. Minor things, mostly tardiness and poor grades. A few fights and one instance of pulling a fire alarm. Nothing comparable to the criminal rap sheet of Danny Phantom.

It was the longest rap sheet any agent had seen, literally pages and pages long. Thousands of charges for attempted murder, attempted arson, arson, attempted kidnapping, assault with a deadly weapon, and more. Their file on Phantom was surprisingly long, but it was a file that had been compiled over the years by the observant eyes of a select few agents who had studied footage and that elusive ghost for years. 

But that flash of light changed everything they thought they knew about Danny Phantom. An entire file that had blanks had odd answers that filled in. However, those answers couldn’t come from Phantom.

“So am I supposed to just believe that you happen to not remember anything about who you are?” Agent B voiced his skepticism to the teenager who had since been changed into a GIW prisoner’s uniform, a pure white loose jumpsuit accompanied by a standard anti-ghost collar around the neck and wrists. 

This teen, nobody knew what or how to refer to him at this point, just stared at him with wide, scared eyes. He shifted in his seat, leaning his elbows on the wooden table that separate them, moving his hands a bit as he spoke.

“I-I don’t know what you want from me?” he croaked. He sniffled a bit, and he almost looked like he might cry. Agent B had to admit that the kid seemed to be a good actor, but it was bullshit. He wasn’t fully sure of this situation, but Phantom was always a sly and manipulative ghost. Always one step ahead. Not this time. “I told you what I know.”

“No, you haven’t,” Agent B spoke harshly. “Who are you, and what are you doing in Amity Park?”

“I don’t know who I am!” the teen exclaimed. “I can barely remember what Amity Park is! I think I live there? Or...like family lives there? But I don’t know their names.”

“You’re lying to me,” Agent B accused him. The waterworks truly began, but that never worked on Agent B. It was hard to really feel sorry for a ghost that hurt so many people through selfish actions. 

“No, I’m not!” The teen put up a pathetic act. The tears were actually a good sign, in Agent B’s opinion. It meant that the ghost was possibly at their breaking point. “Don’t I get a phone call? I’m supposed to have the right to a lawyer too.”

Agent B stared coldly at him.

“No. Those rights don’t apply to ghosts.”

He stared at the agent, absolutely shocked at that statement. He said nothing, and Agent B stood up. 

“Take him back,” Agent B ordered. “Let’s give him another few days in solitary.”

The teen didn’t even utter a word as he was escorted out. Soon as he left, a woman slipped into the room. Unlike the other agents, she wasn’t in a suit, but rather a plan white t-shirt and white jeans, with black shoes and a white lab coat. 

“Anything?” she asked. Agent B shook his head. “You know, amnesia can last months, even years.” Agent B knew that look in her eye, exactly what she was leading up to asking him.

“If he doesn’t remember anything by Friday, you can have him Monday for experiments,” he promised her.

Her eyes shined happily.

“You have no idea what kind of scientific discoveries that boy has hidden in him,” she told him. Agent B simply shrugged. 

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“Release him?” the scientist looked crestfallen at the news. “But there’s so much more to discover, so many more experiments, he has so much information he could tell us!”

“We can’t afford to keep him in custody much longer,” Agent B told her firmly. “People are starting to question where Phantom is. Of course, Fenton too. It won’t take long before people become suspicious and begin to investigate.”

The scientist frowned. In the six months of captivity, she had learned so much. Phantom was this odd human-ghost hybrid. How this happened, she nor her team could determine, other than that this was a recent event and not a natural state for him. The ghost’s continued lack of memory could provide little clues. She had been hoping to spark his memory, in the pursuit of getting some possible hints or theories. But she’d only get a blank stare.

“He’ll say something,” she argued. “Reveal everything. I know, legally, we didn’t violate any laws or anything. He’s a ghost. But that town thinks he’s a hero. It’ll cause a media outrage.”

“I know,” Agent B replied with a sigh. “We may just put him down and keep a close eye on him to ensure his memory doesn’t return, but it also may not really matter. It’s very doubtful that he told anybody about this. He couldn’t have, especially his parents. Had his parents known, well...you know the Fentons. They’d have experimented on him themselves. Fenton will eventually be classified as a runaway. But Phantom’s too well known to disappear forever.”

“We can’t kill him,” she told him almost immediately. “I want to do more experiments later. Everything will change if he dies fully. There’s just too much more to learn.

And that look in her eye returned as she gave him a hopeful smile. Agent B raised an eyebrow at her. 

“What are you thinking?” he asked. 

“He’s already lost so much of his memory,” she began. “What if he...just simply forgot that he had a human half?”

The agent paused as he thought carefully.

“Let’s discuss it with the higher ups, and see how they feel,” he replied. 

Their request was granted. 

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Phantom stared nervously at the agents that watched him with suspicious eyes. He took a few cautious steps forward in fluffy snow. More was falling thickly, gathering quickly on the ground and on the trees of the woods that they had brought him too. The ghost glanced around, before turning to look at the agents. 

They didn’t stop him. They made no movements to draw their weapons. The pair just...watched.

He took this chance, and he shot off into the sky, as fast as he could. No sounds of blasters firing after him, no shouting, only silence and agents that blended into the snow. While his memories of his experience were limited, they were horrifying, and yet they simply let him...leave.

Whatever. He wasn’t going to question that much, but he was already asking himself where he was supposed to...go.

Phantom tried to grasp for his memories for anything of use. Anything that didn’t involve his time there, that could be a place he could go to, a person he could find. What he could remember was so shaky at best. 

He saw a town in the distance, the city lights glowing faintly despite the heavy snowfall. Perhaps figuring out where he was, what the date was, was a good start.

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There was something wrong with stealing, he absolutely knew that much. But he, of course as a ghost, had no money, and he also knew that he couldn’t walk anywhere without drawing attention. So with a heavy heart, he stole a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt and a beanie hat from a department store before walking along the streets.

Judging by all the signs of the city and what he could find, he was in a town called Lakewood, within Washington state. Phantom didn’t know how he knew, but he knew that this was not where he was from, and that he was very, very far from where he was meant to be. 

He now stood in a gas station, trying to figure out what candy he was going to, sadly, end up stealing. Phantom hated it, hated it, hated it. But maybe he just needed to eat something, to jog his memory, to understand what he had to do. There was something in his gut, telling him that he was missing something, something critical and important about him. 

His attention went to a display of free brochures, and he absentmindedly read through them. One caught his eye. 

Amity Park: America’s Most Haunted City! Visit Today!

The headline hit him in the gut. Despite ghosts not needing to breathe, he grabbed the brochure, ripping it open to immediately see his own face staring back at him. One of the town’s main attractions, the famous ghostly superhero Danny Phantom. 

Amity Park was his home. The memories of saving the town flooded him, and he began to openly cry. That was his purpose. Helping others. Protecting them. That town...that town was home.

“Uh, kid?” the clerk asked, obviously confused. “Are you alright?”

Phantom didn’t answer him. He phased out of his stolen attire, earning a surprised shriek from the worker and the other customers. He ignored them all, and he flew through the ceiling as fast as he could for Amity Park, Illinois.

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He arrived some time later, still clutching tightly onto that brochure. The second he was within the city limits, there was an instant sense of self. His memories were not failing him. This was home. This was where he was meant to be, and these were the people he had sworn to protect and care for.

Why? Phantom couldn’t tell you a true reason why. It just was what he knew he did. The paper in his hands proved it.

No sooner than he arrived was he able to get straight back to work, as there was a ghost attacking the city.

#asks #my phics #drabble prompts #phics #danny fenton #danny phantom #guys in white #hnn i'm sorry this is Choppy and stuff #Anonymous

[fandom-imagines-stories]

The Color of a Bruise Part One

Danny Reagan x Daughter! Reader

Words:2760

Summary: After an awkward Sunday dinner, Danny begins to suspect that his daughter's new boyfriend may have violent tendencies. You desperately try to solve the situation on your own, but everything just spirals out of control. The entire family is called to arms.

Notes: I’ve been wanting to do an imagine with a daughter for Danny because he’s one of my favorite fictional characters ever. I really hope you guys enjoy and let me know if there are more Blue Bloods Imagines you’d like to see!

Warnings: Abuse, emotional and physical. Mentions of assault. Again, if you’re uncomfortable always feel free to skip. Also spoilers for those of you not passed season seven.

Dinner had nearly finished without a single argument. You pushed your food around your plate with your fork as your phone buzzed insistently. Your brother Sean sat beside you and smirked.

“Somebody’s popular.” He snarked, taking a bite of his dinner roll. Your great-grandfather gave you a look.

“You know the rules, Y/N.” He scolded.

“I know, I’m sorry.” You turned off the buzzer, wincing at the number of texts and missed you were getting. You told him you’d be with your family today.

“Everything okay?” Your aunt Erin asked, passing the salad bowl to you. You nodded, faking a smile.

“Yeah, just one of the group chats I’m in is in a heated discussion about whether or not crocs are fashionable.” You lied, but you could see your dad glance at you from the corner of his eye. You may have learned how to fake it to the rest of the family, but even after years of practice, you could never lie to him.

Everyone quickly forgot about your phone and dove into this weeks saga of events. Nothing life-threatening, thankfully. Jamie and Eddie were going through with more wedding plans and Nicky was looking into more jobs. Your mind wandered back to the messages on your phone. He wasn’t going to be happy.

“I almost forgot!” Nicky exclaimed. Your cousin eyed you mischievously and you couldn’t stop her before she asked. “Y/N, how are you and your new boyfriend doing?” You glared at her as every pair of eyes at the table now turned to you. She laughed and you glanced at your father, who was very intent on hearing your answer.

“We’re doing just fine, thank you, Nicky.” You said through clenched teeth. As much as you loved her, you and Nikki liked to jab at each other almost as much as your parents did. You looked around at the faces eager with anticipation. “And that is all any of you are getting.” Everyone sighed in disappointment and you avoided your dad’s questioning glances for the rest of the evening.

Afterward, you scurried quickly out to your car, but you weren’t fast enough.

“Hold it!” Danny ordered and you winced.

“So close.” You whispered to yourself, turning around and giving him an innocent smile. “Hey, dad.”

“What’s this about a new boyfriend?” He asked putting an arm around your shoulders. You laughed awkwardly and he gave you a teasing smirk.

“It’s not a big deal, dad.” You insisted, leaning against your car. “We met at school and we’ve gone on a couple of dates.” You were in your senior year at college and you’d met Zach in one of your Criminal Justice classes. To tell the truth, you’d been seeing him for nearly three months. You just didn’t want your father to know that.

“Is this someone I should be meeting?” He raised an eyebrow and you rolled your eyes.

“Definitely not!” You exclaimed with a laugh. “At least, not right now. I don’t want you to scare him off.” He put a hand on his heart in mock offense.

“Who, me?” You gave him a side-hug and got into your car, watching Jamie and Eddie walk to theirs, hands holding on to each others. Eddie’s eyes sparkled as Jamie said something that made her laugh. Deep down, you wished you’d have something like that one day.

Dread filled your stomach as you scrolled through the messages, each one angrier than the next. Your hand started to shake when you read the last message sent. I’ll be waiting at your apartment. We’ll talk there.

You should’ve driven as far away as you could. You should’ve asked your grandfather if you could just spend the night there. But Zach was just upset because he wanted to spend time with you. That’s all. That’s what you told yourself. That’s what made you drive back to your apartment.

“Where the hell have you been?” Zach demanded, standing up from his place on your couch.

“How did you-” You began to ask. You didn’t remember giving him a key.

“It doesn’t matter how I got here, it matters that you weren’t here.” He growled, looming over you.

“I told you that I have family dinners every-” A hand striking your cheek stopped you from finishing.

“I don’t care about your family!” Zach screamed. His hands latched around your wrists. This wasn’t the first time he’d grabbed you like this, but he hadn’t hit you before.

“Zach, you need to calm down.” You spoke quietly, trying to keep things from escalating. His face completely morphed and his tone was pathetically panicked.

“Oh my God, baby, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“I think you should leave.” You looked at him intensely, but you didn’t want to set him off again.

“Please don’t make me leave, Y/N. I’m really sorry.” He begged. His eyes fell to the floor. “I don’t want to be alone, today.” When he looked back up, his eyes were filled with tears. “A year ago, today, is when I lost her. My mom.” He’d told you when you first met that his mother had killed herself. In fact, losing your mothers was the only thing that you had in common. Its what had drawn you to him. Someone else understood what it was like.

Maybe that’s why you let him stay the night. Maybe that’s why you let him do things that you didn’t want to. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t bring yourself to say no.

By the time morning came, Zach was gone. You let out a sigh of relief. As the events of last night flashed through your mind, you felt like the walls were closing in on you. You were losing control of everything all over again.

You slowly stood, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You winced as your hand grazed your cheek. Walking into the bathroom, you saw the large, blue bruise just underneath your eye. You cursed under your breath and reached for your concealer. Eddie’s dress appointment in less than an hour and fingerprint-shaped bruises wrapped around your wrists. When you left your apartment any evidence of the night before was hidden beneath makeup or the sleeves of your sweater.

The bridal shop attendant led you to where Aunt Erin and Nicky were waiting. Eddie was getting dressed and the mother and daughter saved you a seat on the couch.

“So…”’ Erin started. “Who’s this new boyfriend?” You subconsciously pulled your sleeves down further.

“His name’s Zach.” You didn’t want to tell her his last name. Knowing her, she would look him up or worse- tell your father to look him up. “We met at school. He’s… nice.”

“I think she should be able to date without being questioned like this is an impending investigation.” Nicky chimed in. You narrowed your eyes.

“Says the one who announced it at family dinner.” She playfully stuck out her tongue and Erin laughed.

“You two are acting like your those little girls running around the park again.”

“Well, life was easier back then, Aunt Erin.” You shrugged. As your eyes turned to an entering Eddie, Erin’s remained on you. There was something about what you said that sparked her concern and turned her people reading skills on high alert.

“You look amazing!” Nicky exclaimed. A bright smile spread across your face, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. Instead, Erin saw the look she saw in so many victims she’d encountered over the years.

As they walked out, Erin stopped Eddie as the girls walked ahead of them.

“Have you noticed anything strange about Y/N?” She asked. Eddie looked at the younger girl, noticing the way she flinched as a stranger bumped into her or how she was wearing a sweater in the middle of June.

“Yeah…” Eddie agreed. “There’s something…” She couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

“Something that makes me want to learn more about her new boyfriend,” Erin noted. You were lucky to have such strong women looking after you. If you didn’t have them, the next week’s events would have ended very differently.

The cafe was crowded so you had to pick a table outside. You were meeting your dad for lunch in less than fifteen minutes but you always like to be early. You put even more makeup on the marks, making sure that he wouldn’t be able to see them. Everything was going as planned… until you saw Zach storming down the sidewalk towards you. You stood, backing away slightly. The look in his eyes scared you more than you cared to admit.

“Zach, what are you-” You began before he yanked you into the ally.

“Who the hell are you meeting?” He boomed, earning glances from people passing by. His hands pinned your shoulders against the brick and you felt the panic set in.

“Zach, you have to leave. My dad’s going to be here any-” He slammed your head back into the wall, making your vision blur.

“Don’t tell me what I have to do, Y/N.” He spat, painfully tangling his fingers in your hair. “I don’t give a damn who your dad is. I’ll still kick his ass.” You gritted your teeth and gathered as much strength as you could. You pushed him off of you, nearly knocking him to the ground.

“That’s it.” You growled, pulling down your sleeves. “We’re done.” He laughed, shaking his head.

“You don’t get to decide when we’re done.” You crossed your arms over your chest, finally standing your ground.

“I just did.” He put a hand on the side of your head, shoving your face against the cafe wall. By this time, a crowd had begun to form around you, but Zach kept both of your faces from view.

“Get the hell off her man!” Someone yelled.

“Out of my way,” A more familiar voice ordered. “Police!”

“We’ll talk about this later.” He ran off in the other direction, pushing you to the ground and disappearing around the corner just as Detective Danny Reagan broke through the crowd.

“Y/N?” He gasped, he knelt down beside you. “What the hell happened?” His eyes scanned the ally.

“Nothing.” You stood up, brushing off your jeans. You lightly touched your cheek, wincing as your fingers came away bloody. “Just some creep trying to grab my wallet.” He took a step to go after him, but you grabbed his arm. “He’s probably long gone, just let him go.”

“Let him go?” He shouted. “Since when do you wanna just let muggers loose on the streets?” You held back tears, wishing that you could just tell him everything. But you had to do this on your own. You had to get control over your own life again.

“Let. Him. Go.” You pleaded and Danny saw the misery and fear in your eyes. “Please.” He dropped his hands to his sides in defeat. Your voice dropped to below a whisper and you stared at the ground. “I have to go.” Before he could even say he was glad you were okay, you pushed your way passed the dispersing group of people.

Danny just stood in the ally in shock. It didn’t take a detective to know that something was wrong. You always used to come to him whenever you had a problem, but now it felt like you were shutting yourself away from everyone. Before he could think more on the matter, his phone started to ring with a call from Eddie.

“Look, I really can’t talk right now.” He sighed. “I’m sure whatever you have planned, Jamie is gonna love-”

“I don’t want to talk about Jamie.” She interrupted. She took a deep breath. “There’s something you need to know about your daughter.”

Eddie was practically trembling, standing outside your door, waiting for you to answer. Once she had told your father what she thought might be going on, she convinced him to let her talk to you first. What she didn’t tell him was that she had a little experience in this kind of situation. When you finally opened the door, she gave you a nervous smile.

“Eddie… hi…” You stepped back in surprise. You had barely stepped out of the shower when you head the knock at the door. “Come in.” She brushed past you into your apartment and you realized that all of your bruises and marks were clear and visible. Makeup couldn’t lie for you now. “I can explain-”

“You don’t have to.” She shook her head, giving you a smile that reminded you of your mom. She motioned for you to sit next to her on your sofa, her eyes lingering for just a moment on the large scrape on your cheek from the brick wall. “I think I know what’s going on.” You looked at your lap, feeling your cheeks burn with shame. She put a hand on your shoulder.

“A few years ago, I went on this date.” She began cautiously as if she was afraid of the memory herself. “The guy walked me back to my apartment and forced his way in when I told him to leave. He groped me and he hit me. When I thought things were getting worse, he finally had enough of my fighting and he left.”

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered, knowing where this conversation was headed. “But I don’t know how that relates to-”

“There’s a reason no one has met your boyfriend, isn’t there?” She blurted and you froze. You opened your mouth to argue, but she stopped you. “I’m not trying to assume anything, but the look in your eyes this past week has been the same I had for those days after it happened.”

You didn't know what to say. You just wanted to tell her everything. But before you got the chance, there was a booming knock at the door. Zach kicked in the door and you both jumped off the couch. His eyes switched between you and Eddie.

“What the hell is going on here?” He said, his mouth salivating like a rabid dog. “Who the hell is she?”

“Zach, what are you doing here?” You were more pissed off than afraid. “I told you that we’re done.” Eddie instinctively put her hand on her hip but realized that there was no pistol. She didn’t think anything of leaving it at her apartment since she was just coming to see you. Zach mimicked her but pulled a handgun out from under his jacket. You both stepped back.

“You don’t get to say when we’re done!” He swung the weapon around furiously. Eddie pushed you behind her and Zach hit her with the butt of the gun.

“Eddie!” You shrieked as she fell onto the couch, unconscious. He pulled a zip tie out of his pocket and strapped her to the coffee table. Zach then grabbed your arm and began to drag you towards the door. “Get off of me!” You hit his chest and kicked at his legs, but he wouldn’t let go.

“You are never going to leave me.” He growled in your ear, slamming the door to your apartment shut.

Eddie woke up sooner than Zach had intended, and she quickly pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. Frantically, she called her fiance.

“Jamie,” She began in a panic.

“Eddie, what’s wrong?” Jamie asked, earning a worried look from his brother. He and Danny had been grabbing a drink, discussing Danny’s concerns about Y/N.

“You and Danny need to come to Y/N’s apartment.”

“What’s wrong with Y/N?” He exclaimed. Danny jumped up from his seat and leaned in so he could try and hear Eddie.

“H-her boyfriend showed up and Jamie…” she took a deep breath. “He’s got a gun.”

The Reagan brothers were at the apartment in time to find Eddie trying to cut off the zip tie with a letter opener. Jamie rushed to his fiance while Danny scanned the apartment for any signs of his daughter.

“He took her somewhere… I don’t know. He knocked me out and now she’s not here-” Jamie took her face in his hands, trying to calm her down.

“We’re going to find her.” As he said this, sediment rained down passed the window. Danny and Jamie looked at each other.

“The roof,” Danny said, sprinting out the door.

“Be careful!” Jamie shouted after him, hurrying to free Eddie so he could join his brother and save his niece.

#danny reagan #reagan imagines #blue bloods imagine #jamie and eddie #janko #danny reagan daughter #donnie wahlberg

[bewareofchris]

Public Relations 5/??

PG-13 atm | Alec Hardy/Dr. Bill Masters | Broadchurch, Masters of Sex | Strong language, eventual sexual situations

“The fact that Alec Hardy was not currently, had not ever, and did not want to date the American sex research did not seem very important at all to the town of Broadchurch.  They did what they had always done with a little bit of juicy gossip: they made a spectacle of it.”

<< prev

Bill had taken the precaution of preparing himself to be stared at.  It was always easier to handle being the center of attention when you had stood in front of the mirror that morning reminding yourself it was only curiosity.  There was nothing wrong with a bit of healthy interest.  (An excess in interest, though, that left a man feeling every so slightly slimy.  There was just something about the slide of long stares across his body that left him with a film of disgust on his skin.  He certainly wished he’d never learned the difference but there was no going back now.)  He had attempted to look casual, like anyone might try to look when they were out on vacation.  Contrary to popular belief at his office, he did own T-shirts.  He just didn’t have any here.  Betty could only pack what she had access to and the only clothes he’d rescued from Libby had been the ones she hadn’t already thrown out or burned.  

Casual was the effect he was hoping for, but the best he’d managed was rolled up sleeves and the top few buttons of his shirt left undone.  Even his shoes were shiny, like a beacon to draw in attention.  He might as well taken to introducing himself as Dr. Bill Masters, I cheated on my wife and got kicked out of the country, I professional observe couples having sex.

Might have been easier to just say ‘cheating pervert’.

The young woman who owned the hotel did not stop him on his way out.  She had been distracted by an oversized crowd in her sitting room.  (Or bar?  Or dining room.  He wasn’t clear on what it was other than it had tables and served beer, maybe.)  It allowed him to escape without too much fuss.  The air was still crisp, and fresh.  

Bill walked without any sense of direction and he found himself along a path that took him closer and closer to the edge of the cliff he’d seen from the beach below.  It was breath taking, like a fist in his chest that robbed his body of oxygen.  It was amazing how small it left him feeling, and how beautiful it was to feel so small. 

And he might have stood there, enraptured in an unfamiliar feeling of smallness and beauty if not for the crude, unwanted interjection of, “for fucks sake,” that sounded a little bit like the skinny stupid man that was fine with dying alone.  Bill turned toward the sound of the voice and there was the bastard himself.  There was a faint blush of color in his face, a shivering restoration of strength to his limbs.  His voice was scraped out of his throat, and his face was twisted up in disbelieving disapproval.  (No it was harder than that, it wasn’t disapproval, it was something like distaste that was bridging into disgust.)  He didn’t say another word but turned immediately and walked away.

“No wait a minute!” Bill shouted after him.  He stumbled after him.  (That came from wearing dress shoes and damp grass.)  It was easy to catch a man with a heart like Alec Hardy’s.  It wasn’t like he was even capable of moving fast enough to avoid a turtle much less a full grown man.  His arm was thin as bones when Bill’s hand caught it and the man whipped around so fast it was unthinkable it was followed with some kind of blow.  A punch, a kick, an open handed slap.  

They were staring at one another, Hardy glaring with contempt and Bill catching his breath (and trying to reason out why he was so vile to the man).  “Just stay well away from me,” Hardy said.

“I have no interest in being near you,” Bill snapped back.  And then, more importantly, “you live here?”

Hardy looked lie he would rather answer any question in the world but that one.  (Or maybe he just didn’t want to admit that he, too, had been sent here by forces beyond his control.)  “Unfortunately.  I mean it, stay away from me.  I don’t have time for you.”  He half turned, stopped, and glanced back at him, as if he were judging if Bill would try to grab him again.  Then he turned full and stalked away.

No amount of imagination, or scientific hypothesizing could have prepared him from this moment.  He had stood in his mirror to prepare himself for nosy baristas, but how could he have known that ill-tempered dying detectives would sneer at him with something that felt almost like hatred.  And what did it even mean I don’t have time for you?  

Bill hadn’t even been asking for time.

He hadn’t been asking for anything but an explanation.  (Maybe.  Maybe just someone that looked almost familiar to him.)  Betty would have loved it, seeing him struck dumb and offended, lost on a cliff side.  She would have died laughing, with a little wink because he’d left so many people feeling the way he felt right now it was about time he got a taste of it.  

The morning had only started and now it felt hopelessly ruined.  (And since there was no hope of improvement, there was nothing stopping him from going back to the coffee shop to be gawked at.)

--

There were far worse things to be than gay.  Being routinely referred to as shitface behind his back came to mind.  And if the whole of his coworkers and the town around them was going to call him such a charming nickname, they could have at least done so with secrecy.  The longer he stayed the less they seemed to care about the pretense of respect.  The last stronghold against the brewing dislike for him was Miller and her amusement at his foulness was almost as annoying.  Hardy didn’t mind being disliked as long as the investigation proceeded properly.

He didn’t mind being thought of as gay either.

But he didn’t have time to fuel any rumors about the sex life that he wasn’t even capable of having.  He wasn’t capable of having anything but a matter of months that was quickly narrowing down to weeks.  His body could feel the failing of his heart and it left him with a sense of dread that couldn’t be ignored.

He’d read somewhere, that’s how it felt when you knew you were going to die.  He remembered seeing it in an article, lost somewhere in late-night wandering through the internet.  He couldn’t remember now if it were true or not, but the idea had stuck with him.  It had been at the back of his mind so long that it had become a fact.  (After all, anything could be true if you believed it long enough.)  The body knew when it was wrong and there was no mistaking that regardless of the spryness of his mind, and the bitterness of his soul, his body was wrong.

Hardy was dying.

He couldn’t have been fucking an American Doctor even if he’d wanted to.  He couldn’t fuck anyone.  He could hardly stand a brisk walk.  He couldn’t even manage an intense emotion without his chest crushing itself.  He could feel the fist of pain starting, and his head was spinning before he’d even made it back to the hotel.  He had intended to go straight to work, but there was no hope in making it there now.

He got through the door without collapsing, let it slam behind him with no sense of decorum or shame.  Becca leaned out of the doorway of her gathered assembling of snoops to squint at him with concern.  She said, “are you alright,” as he walked past.  “Hey,” she called after him.  Her feet were shuffling after him, because she knew enough about him to know that he was not.  “Do you need an ambulance?”

“No,” Hardy snapped back, “I forgot,” what could have possibly forgotten, “a file.  I’m fine.”  His voice was even enough that he could almost believe himself.  He lost her in the hallway, she didn’t follow him the whole way to his room.  That was a small miracle.

Hardy wasn’t interested in thanking God for anything lately, but he spared the idea of a prayer to be thankful that he made it all the way to his room before his legs turned rubbery.  He lurched for the bottle of pills he’d left on the bedside table.  He landed on his knees against the bed, collapsing sideways so he could sit.  His hands were shaking as he opened the bottle and pushed the pill into his mouth.

The pain was intense as the anger.  The anger was useless, it wouldn’t keep him alive.  The anger was a reminder of everything he was losing, or had lost, or still had just enough time to lose.  He’d lost his wife, and he’d lost his reputation, and he’d lost his daughter.  He’d let a child murderer go free and he couldn’t sleep without remembering it, remembering the exact second that he’d found out.

There were two dead little girls out there that couldn’t have justice for what was done to them.  There was a murderer free, toasting Alec Hardy as the fuck up who let him go.  

And Hardy was here, pressing a fist against his own chest, feeling a well of fury and unfairness that could have drown any man.  Hardy was here, right now, taking his time about dying.  

Not just yet.  Not until he found the man who killed Danny Latimer.

next>>

@marvelmisha, if you’d like to be tagged on future updates just let me know.

#illogical husbands #alec hardy #bill masters #broadchurch #masters of sex #i love both you grouchy bastards #just I love hardy more #public relations: the fic

[seven-oomen]

First, I hope you’re enjoying your game.  One of my friends posted about how she’d just gotten her copy of it, and her husband’s response was basically “so, I’ll just bring you food occasionally and see you in a few days?"  Also, I hope you’re feeling better.  And man you are KILLING ME with these previews.  Oh god, Peter, what are you planning now?  How bad is this gonna hurt and for how long?  (Don’t answer that, I’m afraid to know. XD )

I think all those Hogwarts Houses are excellent choices.  I always think it’s fun to see how people sort various characters, because I rarely have any that I feel are firmly one House (maybe it’s because I’m a proud HuffleClaw, myself, doomed to waffle between Houses every time I take a quiz or read an analysis on the subject.)  Side not - can you imagine the furor that would have occurred about a Slytherin and a Gryffindor hooking up in Fourth Year (I think?), and then pulling an innocent little Hufflepuff transfer under their spell?  Would any of them have played Quidditch?  (Peter I feel definitely played, though I can’t decide what position.  Undecided on the other two.)

Poor Peter, having to behave himself.  Although debatably as long as he kept the fangs put away it wouldn’t necessarily be a risk, though I can see him being worried anyway.  That’s why he needs to find someone to spin his fur into yarn he can then make them scarves/gloves/sweaters/etc with.  And why he’s so into the clothes sharing.  Anything to get his scent on them as thoroughly as possible.

And I am so here for PTA Dad Peter.  Helping out at school functions so he can keep an eye on the younger kids.  Building new, supportive relationships with his older kids, helping them with college applications and essays, making up lists of stuff they’ll need for dorm rooms, finding apartments if any are going to the same or nearby schools and can share, making sure they all have pictures and mementos to help combat homesickness.  And now I’m thinking about the memory quilt again.  Goddammit I don’t want to make myself cry.  Again.  "Imagine Peter hearing their heartbeats for the first time."  Oh nevermind, I see you’ll do it for me.  Ugh, my feels.  Peter shifting to his wolf form and curling protectively around them all the time, head pressed up to their abdomen so that he can listen and scent at maximum effectiveness.  Them just gently stroking through his fur until one or both fall asleep.  (Also, how quickly do the other wolves in the family pick up on the changes in scent?  How do they react?  How do the older kids react to the idea of more siblings in general?)

And you know that whichever one wasn’t the one pregnant at the time would be super protective at the time, then turn around and insist they were fine and that the others were worrying unnecessarily when they were the one pregnant.  (Also, glad your brother was okay!)  I also like that it apparently took them nearly 20 years to learn about planning for this sort of thing.  I know you’ve mentioned Peter and Chris being the ones that do the stupid thing next chapter (or something to that effect), but really I feel the biggest moment of "what the hell, guys?” is Noah getting knocked up just two months after Chris.  It’s like, you guys had a huge, in your face, live example of why protection is important, and yet…  I’m also just going to assume that they have at least a king size bed to accommodate that many people, even if many of them are tiny people, and none of them mind piling.  That’s still a lot of bodies cramming into one bed.  (That much room would also come in very handy for…other reasons, which is why I feel certain Peter would insist upon it.) 

Also, omg, I was not expecting to be attacked by those pictures like that.  Tag your porn, dude XD .  But really, can you imagine the poor, unsuspecting college friends their kids bring home for visits getting a triple barrel of that with no warning?  Like they’ve just seen the goofy, weird pics that they have on their phone/on their walls.  They were not prepared for the sheer DILF power of that household live and in person.  But then, is anyone, really?

Loving all the names.  I actually know a guy named John who has a son named Jackson, so that one was particularly amusing to me.  I also noticed that none of the kids have been named after anyone in Noah’s family, at least so far.  And don’t worry, I wasn’t expecting to have those spoiled yet, though I’m happy to know you liked some of my suggestions :D .  Now if I could just remember which all ones I went with…  Didn’t really think to put it in anywhere, but for some reason I’ve always liked Alexander as a middle name for Peter, though I remain undecided on the other two.

And yes, loving the idea of more family cosplay.  Oh god, they would never get ANYWHERE at a con because they’d be getting stopped every 3 feet for pictures.  For Star Trek, I feel like they’d do groupings from assorted series and versions.  Chris, Peter, and Noah are totally OS Spock, Kirk, and Bones (Peter with strategically torn shirt, of course).  I think Melissa would be their Uhura, and Natalie would be Yeoman Rand (she wants to see if she can fake the hairstyle), because I dare anyone to tell them they can’t pull off dresses that short.  Since he has sword training from his hunter background, Melissa makes Julio be their Sulu.  Boyd, Derek, and Jordan would be Picard, Riker, and Data (Derek would totally figure out how to do that weird way Riker sits down, too.)  After much debate, I feel Stiles would be Kirk from the recent films (NuTrek, or whatever they call it), Jackson would be Spock, and Malia would be Bones.  I think Lydia would make an excellent Uhura for them, as well.  Scott would be Scotty because he can remember to answer to it, and it gives him an excuse to do a TERRIBLE fake accent.  I’m leaning towards Isaac for their Chekov, but beyond that can’t think what to do with everybody else, I’m not familiar enough with the different tv shows.

Marvel we’ve talked about some.  DC I have a few random ideas.  I always thought it would be funny to see Peter, Derek, Jackson, and Liam do the assorted Robins.  While I feel Peter is DEFINITELY more of a Jason personality wise, I think he’d be far more comfortable in Dick’s costume that Derek would be, and if Derek was Jason the heights would line up better.  Jackson would be Tim, and Liam would be Damian (because who else would play DC’s tiny and angry than TW’s tiny and angry?)  Also, don’t overlook the fun and variety of villains DC offers.  The last group costume I did was a cross between Bill & Ted and assorted Bat-villains.  We called it Bruce & Dick’s Excellent Adventure, and even photoshopped a sign to carry to help people get it.  Among our line-up was Cleo-Catra, Ivybeth the First, The Poison Queen, Harley Antoinette, Joker Napoleon, Freud Nygma, and Bane-thoven.  (I really need to do something with the various pieces of my costume someday.)  I know there are several girls in the Bat-fam now, too, depending on who all wants to be a part of it, or if they want to skew more Justice League/Teen Titans/Young Justice.

Oh man, Disney.  So many options.  I feel like Lydia and Allison as Ariel and Prince Eric is a given.  I also like the idea of Kira and Malia as Belle and the Beast, partially because of Malia’s issues about having to hide her nature, and also because I think she could absolutely rock that suit.  Ben could join them as Chip.  (Stiles would actually make an excellent Belle, but I feel that might just get weird.)  I can see Danny helping Erica rig up a Sleeping Beauty dress with strands of LEDs that keep shifting from pink to blue to green so the dress keeps appearing to change color (it’s a massive hit.)  I don’t know why, but I really want Stiles and Jackson as Elsa and Anna for some reason.  Scott can join them as either Kristoff or Olaf, depending on the mood he’s in.  Can’t quite decide for the other pack kids.  Since the theme is nominally just fairy tales, I think the dads could just opt for a classier, fancier version of their Red Riding Hood looks.  Maybe go for a steampunk edge or something (I would have included links here, but Google was not my friend today and I couldn’t find quite what I wanted.)  Rich velvets and wools in vivid scarlet and forest-y greens, black and deep brown leather and suede, lots of polished buttons and buckles, loose cotton shirts unlaced at the throat.  Mmm, yes.  And Peter could have one of those super fancy Victorian type nightgowns with the long sleeves and high necks made out of super soft and fine materials.  Instead of getting some kind of mask to wear, he’d just do his partial/beta/whatever you want to call it shift and let them add extra fur on with makeup to blend it in.  Everyone just thinks it’s amazing effects work.  He does opt for some cute wolf paw slippers since cons tend to get snotty about people going around barefoot.  (Applying and removing the fur is also how they learn his ears are particularly…sensitive…to a delicate touch in that form.)  

Lord of the Rings.  Yes.  Like, I can’t figure out who or any real details right now but.  Just.  Yes.

I feel like some years they enter the costume contest and some they don’t, just depending on their moods.  (They totally take the Jurassic Park group to a con and people adore it.  It makes for great skits.)

Random bonus thought for the day concerns dancing.  I was thinking about the whole drag queen thing, and whether Jungle was around in the 90s, and it sort of segued into what types of dancers they are.  I feel like Peter is a very good dancer.  Not quite competition level, maybe, but very skilled, nonetheless.  Like Malia, he’s just very comfortable in himself, in all forms, which helps with spatial and bodily awareness, in addition to his natural grace and balance.  I also feel he’s the most likely to have taken, like, ballroom lessons or similar as a kid, maybe at a parent or grandparent’s insistence.  With Noah I keep thinking about the various videos I’ve seen of Dylan dancing both outside of TW and as Stiles, and I feel his dad would have a very similar style of awkward disaster from the chest up, undulations worthy of a harem girl from the waist down (those Stilinski boys tend to leave a lot of confused boners in their wake.)  In Noah’s case, settling into his frame after that last growth spurt and learning self-defense/martial arts helped smooth most of the awkward out, but it resurfaces every so often.  Chris I think would be the least likely to dance, just because I feel his background would make him very self-conscious about it, whether he wants to feel that way or not.  He’ll dance if it’s just the three of them or just family, or for a slow dance, but that’s normally it.  However, if he’s drunk enough, or if Noah or Peter have dragged him into a dark corner to makeout for a while and gotten him all distracted and relaxed, he can be pursued out onto the floor to show off some actually pretty sweet moves once he lets go.

Anyway, gonna try and wrap this up, because I just realized it’s way later than I realized, and I should try and get some sleep at some point.  Enjoy your game, I hope it’s epic!

When this little paragraph made me realize I had a gaping plot hole in this chapter and I got to go back to fix it. My god my friend, you are a lifesaver!

I also like that it apparently took them nearly 20 years to learn about planning for this sort of thing.  I know you’ve mentioned Peter and Chris being the ones that do the stupid thing next chapter (or something to that effect), but really I feel the biggest moment of "what the hell, guys?” is Noah getting knocked up just two months after Chris.  It’s like, you guys had a huge, in your face, live example of why protection is important, and yet…

Because oh yeah I wanted to make it canon that wolves can detect a heartbeat of the embryo at 4-5 weeks. Which is about a week after the heart starts beating. And oh yeah, Chris is two months along by the time Noah gets pregnant... shit. I wrote something else in that flashback.

And now I got to fix that, so cheers!

I also finished writing my chapter today! Yay! All glorious 13K of it. And I’ll be editing and posting tomorrow (or technically later today as it is past midnight.) Oh, I’m so excited, I’m so excited to see what you think!

As for the game, my god it is awesome!!! I played a few hours today but my heart raced so much I had to pause after two hours because I was getting dizzy because of my heart. But it’s a great game so far, very accessible and it just draws me in completely. It’s so good.

Definitely what I needed after my day at work.

hehehe I’m happy to see my previews and writing and getting emotions, it sounds so bad, but that makes me smile because it’s getting the desired response and that’s awesome. 

“Cue Lego Movie music”

can you imagine the furor that would have occurred about a Slytherin and a Gryffindor hooking up in Fourth Year (I think?), and then pulling an innocent little Hufflepuff transfer under their spell?  Would any of them have played Quidditch?  (Peter I feel definitely played, though I can’t decide what position.  Undecided on the other two.)

I think Peter would’ve been a chaser or beater, somehow those seem to fit him well. Noah played but he was a keeper. (which would be funny if Peter was a chaser since they would get to battle lover’s disputes on the quidditch pitch) Chris I feel wouldn’t play quidditch, he’s too busy trying to keep track of his studies and really just likes to watch the sport but not participate. I think he’d be more into care of magical creatures and defends against the dark arts than any kind of sport. Though he does join and excel at the dueling club.

And the scandal of Peter and Noah dating from fourth year on would be massive, people can barely wrap their heads around it. But they’re happy and they’re just doing their own thing. And they don’t pay attention to anyone else but what they think and what Chris thinks of them.

Peter shifting to his wolf form and curling protectively around them all the time, head pressed up to their abdomen so that he can listen and scent at maximum effectiveness.  Them just gently stroking through his fur until one or both fall asleep.  (Also, how quickly do the other wolves in the family pick up on the changes in scent?  How do they react?  How do the older kids react to the idea of more siblings in general?)

<3 <3 it’s honestly an adorable image. The twins are very active when dad’s curled up around them, knowing just where to kick so Peter’s wakes up by a foot to the face. Though he doesn’t mind and just nudges back gently, letting out a low grumbling noise or whine that he knows the babies can hear in utero. As for how quickly, it depends on whether or not they smelled it before. Jackson, Ben, or Scott wouldn’t pick up on it. They weren’t wolves around pregnancies before. Malia and Derek catch on quickly though. They start noticing the scent change at around 5-6 weeks and hear the little heartbeats of the new family members.

Malia is moderately excited, she’s a little worried about her dad and how he will handle pregnancy at his age. (Although he’s like 35 when he gets pregnant, that counts as a geriatric pregnancy, dad... I’m worried.)

Stiles just flips between the two of extreme worry where he read up on pre-eclampsia and other pregnancy complications and birth complications and omg what if that happens. But he’s also so so excited because omg he’s finally gonna be an older brother!!

(He knows he’s Ben’s older brother, and he adores the tyke, but it’s different when you have a pregnancy close instead of a five-year-old sibling from one day to another.)

Jackson is pouty and a bit grumpy. He feels like he’s losing baby status in the family more and more and he doesn’t know how to deal. (Ben was a bit difficult to get used to for him but Chris handled it well by setting time aside for his baby Jackson. It helped. But now he’s a teen and there’s going to be two more babies and he’s- he doesn’t know how to feel. When Chris breaks the news he wants to have another baby he’s even more torn but he does come around, deciding that he will always be the baby of the family, even when he’s not.

It’s a good compromise. And the three parents set some time for each of their kids so everyone gets attention.

Allison handles it the best out of the teens, she’s very excited for all of them and immediately to volunteers helping with decorating the new nursery. She paints a few awesome looking murals of Winnie the Pooh or Bambi or some other cutesy Disney animals (Or maybe even a space/star wars or a fairy tale ala Fables theme?) and just goes all out. She also convinces Malia to quilt a blanket for the new baby and helps her knit a few cute hats. She’s just extremely excited and happy.

Ben is very happy too, he’s finally not the youngest anymore and he’s happy to be an older brother. He also finds it fascinating to learn how pregnancy works and how those babies got in there in the first place. They let him tell them how it works and explain some basic details, sperm, egg, you need both to have a baby and the baby grows in pops and papa’s belly. But they leave out any details that Ben doesn’t figure out or doesn’t ask about to keep it more age-appropriate for him. 

Though Ben’s smart and he figures out a lot on his own. Noah and Peter are honestly impressed by Ben’s deductive skills. They knew Jackson and Stiles had them, but they hadn’t expected Ben to show them too. He’s a quiet observer.

They were not prepared for the sheer DILF power of that household live and in person.  But then, is anyone, really?

Honestly, I don’t think anyone is. Nobody can resist the sheer DILF power.

Since the theme is nominally just fairy tales, I think the dads could just opt for a classier, fancier version of their Red Riding Hood looks.  Maybe go for a steampunk edge or something (I would have included links here, but Google was not my friend today and I couldn’t find quite what I wanted.)  Rich velvets and wools in vivid scarlet and forest-y greens, black and deep brown leather and suede, lots of polished buttons and buckles, loose cotton shirts unlaced at the throat.  Mmm, yes.  And Peter could have one of those super fancy Victorian type nightgowns with the long sleeves and high necks made out of super soft and fine materials.  Instead of getting some kind of mask to wear, he’d just do his partial/beta/whatever you want to call it shift and let them add extra fur on with makeup to blend it in.  Everyone just thinks it’s amazing effects work.  He does opt for some cute wolf paw slippers since cons tend to get snotty about people going around barefoot.  (Applying and removing the fur is also how they learn his ears are particularly…sensitive…to a delicate touch in that form.)  

I- this whole thing? yes. Headcanon accepted because it is that good. I can literally just see them going in steampunk hunter, red riding hood and the wolf. thank you for putting that image in my mind XD

I feel like Peter is a very good dancer.  Not quite competition level, maybe, but very skilled, nonetheless.  Like Malia, he’s just very comfortable in himself, in all forms, which helps with spatial and bodily awareness, in addition to his natural grace and balance.  I also feel he’s the most likely to have taken, like, ballroom lessons or similar as a kid, maybe at a parent or grandparent’s insistence.  With Noah I keep thinking about the various videos I’ve seen of Dylan dancing both outside of TW and as Stiles, and I feel his dad would have a very similar style of awkward disaster from the chest up, undulations worthy of a harem girl from the waist down (those Stilinski boys tend to leave a lot of confused boners in their wake.)  In Noah’s case, settling into his frame after that last growth spurt and learning self-defense/martial arts helped smooth most of the awkward out, but it resurfaces every so often.  Chris I think would be the least likely to dance, just because I feel his background would make him very self-conscious about it, whether he wants to feel that way or not.  He’ll dance if it’s just the three of them or just family, or for a slow dance, but that’s normally it.  However, if he’s drunk enough, or if Noah or Peter have dragged him into a dark corner to makeout for a while and gotten him all distracted and relaxed, he can be pursued out onto the floor to show off some actually pretty sweet moves once he lets go.

Malia definitely inherited Peter’s dancing skills, I like to think Jackson did as well. Those three are the best dancers in the family. They just move with natural ease. 

Allison is a decent dancer, her gymnastics training really helps but she’s not as fluent as her brother, sister, or dad.

I feel like Noah and Stiles have awkward flailing down to a T but every once in awhile there’s a hip movement worthy of a fucking professional dancer and it’s very confusing. But yeah, totally agree with that assessment of them.

Chris isn’t much of a dancer and neither is Ben. Both of them are very self-conscious. Chris gets better when he’s drunk because he let’s go of insecurity but even then it’s not great. He just doesn’t dance, it’s not his thing. Although he was a very good grinding and hip rotation move. He’s also pretty good at jump style once he lets himself go and just turns his mind off. but the rhythmic jumping just feels natural to him. He also likes to slow dance since he can just bury his face in Noah’s shoulder or nuzzle Peter’s cheek and just forget about everything else.

Also, I like to think they all love to sing. Chris’s voice is best suited for country I feel like. Noah’s more for singer-songwriter. And Peter just loves singing pop songs and he knows how to hit some high notes. 

And now I am going to bed because It’s almost three am XD And I need some sleeps. Thankfully I have the day off this sunday.

#ben says stuff #once upon a time comments #submission

[anarchist-puppet-on-strings]

Stories Worth Telling

SUMMARY: Jackie only said yes to this interview in hopes of getting people to hate him less.

TW - VERY BRIEF MENTION OF PEDOPHILIA

Jackie’s nervous. He hopes to any higher being that may hear this that he doesn’t look as anxious as he feels. When people see him from afar they see someone calm and collected, a joke or witty comment at the ready. He prays this interview doesn’t reveal what a dorky mess he actually is to the public.

He watches with vague interest as the reporter he’d saved a week ago—Danny—got ready. A notebook was pulled out of her bag, pencil pulled from behind her ear, phone opened to the voice memo app and set on the table between them…. It seems like she really thought this whole thing through huh. Maybe she knew he'd say yes.

He fidgeted uncomfortably. He'd never done this sort of thing before. He’s talked to few people for extended amounts of time as Jackieboy Man and that was to calm a few victims, most being children—this is a journalist. The voice in his mind told him he'd mess this all up and make even more people hate him. Oddly enough, that thought is scarier than some criminals he's fought.

The phone sitting on the table, ready to record their whole conversation is more like a viper than a phone at this point. It stares at him like it’s waiting for him to fuck up once.

“Alrighty then looks like we're nearly ready!” Danny chirped happily. “I’m going to start recording our conversation—if that's okay with you,” she said, shooting him a questioning glance.

Against his better judgement, he swallowed and nodded nervously.

She tapped the screen and suddenly the interview had begun.

“So Jackieboy Man—can I call you Jackie?”

He nodded before catching his mistake. “Err yeah. Go for it.”

“Great,” she said absentmindedly, flipping through her small notebook. “First off: why’d you agree to this interview? You’ve shied away from reporters before.”

His mind blanked and he’s left struggling to pick out coherent thoughts. “Uh, well, I was kinda hoping this would clear up some questions people might have about me? I dunno, make them hate me less? And you seem less demanding and invasive than the other ones who’ve asked.”

She hummed, glancing up at him with a soft smile as she scribbled something down and flipped back a few pages. “What makes you think people hate you?”

He scoffed. “Oh please, I’ve seen the looks I get. And I can hear all the rumors.”

Someone started something saying he’s a leader of some new gang or something. While it’s kinda amusing, it hurts his fragile reputation of being the new hero in the city. Enough people didn’t trust him as it was and he didn’t need some stupid rumor messing things up even worse than they already were.

“Well, what you’re doing is illegal,” she pointed out dryly, giving him a look that he’s all too familiar with. Stay in your lane; it’s not your job. That look always pissed him off.

Jackie couldn’t help but bark a sardonic laugh, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. “Yeah, well, the cops aren’t doing shit, so I’m steppin’ up instead.”

Perhaps he shouldn’t have said that because now her interest is peaked. Her hazel eyes were glittering in excitement as she leaned forward.

“Ah, I’m sorry; that was uncalled for-”

“No, no,” she said eagerly. “Go ahead. What’re your opinions on the cops?”

Relax, Jay; this is an interview. It’s all about you. You’re not gonna get in trouble… yet.

“Well, I don’t really needta tell anybody how corrupt this city’s justice system is. All I see when I turn on the news is about how some cop abused their power and aren’t gettin’ charged blah blah blah.” Now that he’s clearly listening to himself, he realized how bitter and… sad he sounded.

“It happens pretty often,” Danny noted, pencil scratching against paper.

“Christ, it’s like this happens every few weeks!” He complained, running a hand down his face and over his mask. “It’s stupid! I mean, it’s not hard to be a good person!”

“Is that why you’re doing this?” She cut in. “Because of all the corruption?”

“Well, yeah, why else would I be doin’ all this shit?” He asked. “I have a job and stuff to do. Why would I want to be doin’ something I don’t needta be doin’?”

“People can argue that you don’t have the right to do that. There’s law enforcement after all.”

“Technically we just talked about why we can’t trust the cops but I’ll humor you. Ya can’t just sit around, twiddling your thumbs while you wait for someone to stop the people everyone put in power cuz nobody’s gonna stop them. Sometimes ya have to step up and be karma.”

“That’s… that’s quite the statement. Very raw.”

Jackie hummed.

Silence fell for a minute until Danny spoke again. “A while ago, one of my coworkers caught a video of you stumbling into an alley after a gunfight between two gangs when she arrived on the scene. Did you get hurt?”

Shrugging helplessly, he glanced down at the ground. ”Maybe.”

“Do you… do you get hurt often?” She asked. To Jackie’s disbelief, he heard genuine concern in her voice.

“I mean, yeah… not too often for bad injuries but normally scrapes and bruises here and there every night.” He chuckled. “Most the minor ones are my fault anyways. I’m not exactly graceful.”

More writing.

“Aren’t you scared?” She asked.

“Of what?”

“Getting hurt.”

“Oh, nah, not really,” he said dismissively. “What happens happens. I just brush it off and keep going.”

“Do your family and friends know you’re doing this?” She asked.

He blinked. “What?”

She repeated the question.

“Uh—no. I don’t have any family or friends.” It slipped out before he could stop it.

The look he received was of pure pity. He hated it.

Danny tapped her pencil against the edge of the table, watching as his leg bounced up and down.

“So… tell me about your spray painting.”

“Uhm, what d’ya wanna know?” His brows furrowed. Of all the things she could’ve asked, she asked about that?

She hummed. “Well, what’s with all the messages? You have some pretty meaningful ones plastered across the walls.”

Trying to recall any only resulted in a jumble of memories. All he could really remember is the fumes of paint and the dark shielding him from prying eyes.

“Which ones? I’ve done a lot.”

She flipped through her notes again and pulled out a few pictures stuck between some pages. A bright green eyeball with the optic nerve hanging down with a blue iris and a black pupil was present in every picture but...

Danny spoke before he could examine them of them close enough. “‘Don’t tell me what you want to be; tell me what you want to do.’”

He shrugged. “It’s always what d’ya wanna be when you grow up. I think what you’re gonna do is much more important.”

She furrowed her brows while nodding before moving onto the next one.

“‘Respect existence or expect resistance,’” she read aloud.

“I think that’s pretty self explanatory.”

She gave him a patient smile. “Tell me anyway.”

Jackie sighed heavily. “People don’t respect one another and then suddenly everyone is surprised when others start to say something about it or try to do something. It’s hypocritical.”

Once he made it clear he wasn’t going any further, she continued down the line. “‘Smile because you’re loved.’”

That one made him smile slightly. It’s one of his favorites. “I think reminders are nice. People always have someone who cares, even if they don’t think so.”

She stared at him for a moment before smiling gently. “That’s a nice message.”

“Yeah, I wish people told each other more often.”

“‘Stop being silent.’” She tapped the mute button drawn next to the phrase.

He stared her in the eyes. “Citizens have power. They’re just not using it. They’re trying to scare us into silence and it’s working. We need to do something.

“‘How many have to die?’” She turned the paper towards herself and rattled off, “‘Charlie Unger, Hailey Davis, Michael Crow, Thomas Marsh, Cale Sanders, Macy Parish, Gail Sullivan…’ and there’s many more. These are names of protesters.”

“And people who the cops killed,” Jackie added steelily.

“Why those names?”

“People have argued whether some of these people were “good” or not, but here’s the thing: most of them were children. I know Macy was 16 and the others were mainly older highschool or college students. You can say they were adults but they were still in school. They had things they’ll never get to do now, and they’re not getting their justice. It isn’t fair.”

Danny’s silent as she slid the picture back into her bag. She turned her attention on the next one. “‘Divided we stand, united we fall.’ This is pretty similar to the American motto.”

“Mmm it’s switched around.”

“Why this one? Are you bashing America?”

“Nope,” he said, popping the p. “I’m bashing this city. We all have our differences, opinions, and stories, and we let those define us. But when we fall down, we fall together. We have the same fate eventually. We stand divided but we fall united.”

She hummed again (she did that a lot). “What about this one? ‘Always watching?’”

“I don’t remember doing that one.”

Danny frowned. “It has your calling card by it. Or, at least, what looks like it.”

He frowned, turning the picture to face him. The words were jagged and sloppy with little care for how it appeared. But the eye by the words was… wrong. It was black with a combined neon green iris and pupil. It looked… ominous.

“That’s not mine,” he said. He picked it up, trying to figure out where this was. “Do you know where this is?”

She reached over and plucked the photo out of his hand and flipped it over.

In scrawling letters it read: 65830 Detroit Boulevard

Drumming his fingers on his leg, he hummed.

“Can I, ah, take a picture of this?” He asked, flipping it back over and staring at the cryptic words.

“Go ahead.”

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he snapped a picture of the graffiti. He copied the address into the notes app before turning it off and putting it away. He slid the photo back to her so she could shuffle them back into her notebook.

She cleared her throat after a minute and continued. “Your latest stunt caused some controversy. People say you have no right to reveal people’s personal information like you did.”

“I’d say those rights are forfeited when you’re caught doin’ illegal things.”

“So it can be argued that your rights are forfeited as well?” She pointed out, jabbing her pencil at him.

He shrugged again. “I mean, yeah, sure.”

The answer must’ve let Danny down. “You’re pretty nonchalant about all this.”

He smiled. “Well, at least I know where my morals lie. I’m happy to say I’m not on the deep web watching little kids like McCallister was.”

At the mention of that, she became uncomfortable. “Why’d you reveal that information to the public?”

Jackie grinned. “Because he couldn’t be left off the hook with the whole city angry, no matter how corrupt the cops are. Even if he escapes criminal charges—which I doubt—people’ll throw him outta office. You have ta get people’s attention for them to listen.”

“I… I think that’s enough for now…” She said weakly.

“Oh? Am I free to go?” He asked.

She shoved her notebook into her bag and picked up her phone. “Sure, just give me some contact info, so I can get in touch to ask follow up questions.” It sounded like she didn’t realize what she’s saying. Contact info from a hero? Psssh.

He laughed as he made his way to the open window. “Nah, you’ll see me around. Just holler.”

“Hey! Wait!” She sputtered.

It’s too late—he’d already swung his legs over the windowsill and dropped down onto the fire escape.

Danny rushed to the window and peered out, watching him vault over the railing and drop into the darkness of the alleyway. She sighed, phone clutched in her hand. She looked at the new recording named by the date and time. “Oh well, at least I have this.”

This would be the biggest story since Jackie’s appearance—maybe even bigger! She could feel it.

(A/N) I’VE WORKED ON THIS FOR  D A Y S  AND IT’S FINALLY DONE!!!

Tag list: @assbutt-of-the-readers, @stuck-in-a-l-o-o-p, @bloodsoakedheretic 

#anarchist tries to write #let me help pick up the pieces #jacksepticeye #jse fanfiction #jackieboy man #firecracker #danny de luna #character analysis #swearing #anxiety #vandalism #vigilante #brief mention of past injuries #interview #corrupt politicians #corrupt police

[jessi-novel-idea]

The Family Business: Chapter Three - Cardboard Jungle

Description: Jax Teller’s sister makes an unexpected return, will she be able to settle back into the life or will it all be too much?

Warnings: language, not really anything too bad (just a little fluff)

Word Count: 2,723

I woke to the obnoxious sound of my alarm and I all I really wanted to do was throw it at the wall and go back to sleep. 6:00am came too damn early. As I rolled out of bed I stretch and began to get ready for my first full day at work. I really hope today isn't just going to be intern shit, I have had too many years of that. It was inevitable though having to start at the bottom and work your way up, but a woman in Charming surrounded by the men in the DA's office was going to be a long journey to the top. I guess you can say I am a competitive person (not surprising given my family tree). In the Teller family you have to be competitive to stay alive, honestly it is just my mother's influence coming out in me, which is truly unfortunate.

As I pulled into the parking lot at work and gathered my bags, I took a deep breath and headed into the courthouse.

When I got inside the guard standing at the metal detector handed me a name badge as I walked through. He was a tall guy, about 6 foot and muscular, with bright blue eyes. "Have a good first day Ms. Teller."

"Thank you, Mr. Miller" I responded taking my name badge and reading his.

"Call me Danny!" He said with a smile

"Well Danny, I'm Jenna, have a great day" I smiled back at him.

As I continued my journey through the courthouse to my office I started getting nervous. What if they don't like me? What if I mess up? Maybe I'm not ready for this? By the time I fought all those thoughts I had reached the door and turned the handle and entered and was immediately greeted by Wes.

"Good morning Miss. Teller, ready to start?"

"I think so..." I said following him to a desk and trying to sound as confident as possible, I am assuming it was mine giving the fact it is in the corner next to the storage room where they filled all old cases.

"Here is you work space, the first thing I want you to work on is familiarizing yourself with the cases this department has had in the last month and any open cases we are working on, that way you can see the work we do here in the Charming DA's office and the way we like to handle our cases and clients. Any questions?"

"Not that I can think of." I responded thinking of how fun this was going to be, while trying not to roll my eyes at him.

The first hour or so went by fast because I began moving the boxes around in the storage room and tried to get it all organized. Just when I got started pulling cases from second box when I heard my phone vibrate on my desk. Looking down at my phone I noticed I had a text from I number I didn’t recognize.

XXX-XXX-XXXX: Hey Jen its Op, this is my new burner. I was wondering if we could talk about last night?

Me: I am at work right now Op, but we can talk later if you want to meet after I get off?

Op: Of course…are we still going to storage and furniture shopping?

Me: Yep, if you are still up for it

Op: I wouldn’t miss the opportunity to spend the afternoon with you. How is your first full day anyway?

Me: Boring, I am stuck reading old files. Same shit I did in while I was in school.

Op: I'm sorry love, but I will let you get back to work… I will see you at 5.

Love? That's a new one even for Opie I am usually sweetheart or darlin’.

The rest of the day drug on, they had a welcome lunch with the judges and attorneys in the building to let me meet all of them, which was painfully awkward considering a couple of them knew me and my family for our not so law-abiding ways. No one asked questions though so that was a plus, I don’t like explaining the family business to people in the justice system.

As I walked out to meet Opie in the parking lot I was surrounded by the other people from my office, but I still said a goodbye to Danny and told him to have a goodnight and he returned the statement. I was the only one to acknowledge his presence though, typical. Some people experience a little bit of success and look down upon people who are different.  

As soon as I walked outside I saw Opie leaning against his bike in the fire lane. He had his cut on and his beanie, his usual look, but I would never complain, because damn he could pull off that look. He smiled at me as I turned to say goodbye to my co-workers, all of which were staring at him like he was the worst person in the world. So damn judgmental, but they probably only see the cut and they don't understand it. Definitely going to be questions about this tomorrow, questions I plan on dodging, because it isn’t really any of their business.

I was greeted by a big hug and an Opie Winston classic smile. "Hey, you ready to go?"

"Yes, very ready." I replied

"Hop on!" He said patting the seat behind him

"I can't ride in this skirt and these heels, I need to change. Plus, I thought you were going to bring your truck? We can go to my hotel and get my stuff, change and drop my car off and head to get your truck, what do you think?"

"I got caught up at TM and didn't have time to run home to get it. But, that sounds good to me, I follow you to your hotel to make sure you are okay."

All I could do is flash him a smile and turned toward my car so he couldn’t see the blush that appear just by his simple statement to make sure I was okay.

I walked across the lot to my car, put my bags in the backseat and climbed in bringing the engine to life. As I drove to the hotel I couldn't help but let my mind race to what I thought Opie would say about last night. A part of me wanted him to be happy about it and the other part was telling me I am crazy and I need to think about Donna and his kids in this situation. I couldn’t be selfish.

When I pulled into the hotel parking lot Opie sped up to park before me and was getting off his bike and he walked over and opened my door, such a gentleman. We were silent as he followed me up to my room. He finally broke the silence once we got in the room and he shut the door.

"Wow, this is a nice place."

"Yeah, it has served my purpose, but I can't wait to be in my own place tonight." I said walking over to my bag down. I walked over to the dresser and pulled out some clothes to change into. Opie had taken a seat at the end of the bed watching me intently.

I walked over to the bathroom to change. I was so glad to get out of these business clothes.

Opie's POV:

I don't think Jenna knows that I can see her right now in the mirror across from the bathroom, and I know I should say something but I love this view. When she slides her skirt down and steps out of it she is left in a matching lace bra and thong set and DAMN she is still smoking hot. When she bends over again to slide the yoga pants on I realize there is an awkward tightness beginning in my jeans.

Shit…OMG… what am I doing, I am a married man and I love Donna. But this is Jenna it is different, no its not, yes, it is I have loved her since I was 15…I continue this debate until I hear her say something, but I didn't know what she said.

"I'm sorry, what’d you say," I say back in her direction, trying to distract myself.

"You said you wanted to talk about last night? What's on your mind?" She asked coming around the corner. Even though she is just in casual clothes I find myself admiring how the clothes hug her curves.

"Oh...umm yeah I'm sorry about the…umm…kiss" I finally stuttered out.

"Sorry? There is nothing to be sorry about, if anything I should apologize to you" she said giving me a quizzical look.

"I just feel so comfortable with you, I can tell you anything and when you gave me that money and I didn't know how to thank you so I kissed you," I admitted

"I feel comfortable with you too. That thank you was certainly enough," she said giving me a smirk.

"Ready to go drop your car off at your apartment?" I asked assuming she was given she had packed up everything.

"Yeah" she said reaching for her bags, but I beat her to it and grabbed her bags as I followed her down to the lobby.

Jenna's POV:

Once we got to my apartment building, Opie carried my bags up and jokingly picked me up, throwing me over his shoulder and carried me back down to his bike.

"Put me down," I yelled, hitting him lightly on the back.

"Yes, your majesty," he said like a smartass as he put me down. I just playfully nudged him slightly.

I hopped on the back of his bike and hugged tight to him as we drove off to his house to get his truck.

When we pulled in the driveway, Donna was walking outside, she must have heard the bike roar as we made the turn onto his street.

"Hey Donna, how are you?" I asked stepping off the bike.

"Pretty good, glad to see you, you look great," she said hugging me.

"Thanks, where are the kiddos?" I said looking around

"With some friends from school."

"Cool, would you mind if I borrowed Op for a little bit to help me move some boxes into my apartment?"

"That's fine with me," she said kissing Opie on the cheek "Oh and Jenna.... Thank you for the money, it means a lot."

"You are welcome, it’s nothing, just let me know how I can help y'all. You guys are family" I said climbing into the truck with Op. We waved to Donna as we backed out of the driveway.

"Jax is at TM we can go pick him up now." Opie said staring out the windshield.

"Okay, I will give him a call to see if he still wants to go."

"I am sure he will, he needs a break from your mom she is driving him crazy about what to get you for your house and what to get for Abel’s nursery" he said laughing.

"My mom does have a way with driving people crazy,” I said with a laugh “But in all honesty, kitchen stuff would be nice, because I literally have nothing."

"Ok, I will inform Gemma."  He said with a smirk.

The rest of the ride to TM was quiet, but that was fine I was enjoying just being in his company.

We picked up Jax and headed to the storage unit. When we got there and opened the door, we saw the stacks of boxes and other junk mom had kept through the years.

Jax grabbed what he needed for Abel and I grabbed the few boxes of stuff I had from before I left. When I had put my last box in the back of Op's truck, Jax came over with a box with our dad's name on it. It appeared to be old pictures and old Harley manuals, nothing I am interested in. Jax however loved it.

We left the storage unit and headed to the furniture store where I quickly found a living room and bedroom set that I loved and bought. I think Jax and Opie were mad that I picked the pieces I did…they kept complaining that I bought the heaviest furniture in the store.

By the time we had finished unloading everything it was 8 o'clock and I bought them dinner at the diner on the corner to thank them. When we finished eating and walked back outside I saw Tara pull up to the curb to get Jax. Didn't know they were getting close again.  

"She is taking me to see Abel," he said after looking my way, where I am sure I had quite the facial expression.

I said goodbye to Jax as he drove off with her, wow I still really hate her. After all these years you would have thought I would have gotten over her breaking Jax’s heart, but I guess not. If we are being honest I will probably never get over that.  

Opie walked me back to my apartment and I asked him to come up. When we got back into the apartment he walked over and started assembling my bed.

"Hey, you don't have to do that. I am fully capable." I said waving the screwdriver he needed at him.

"Oh, I know you are, but I don't want to leave you yet," he admitted looking up at me, but not making eye contact. I know I turned red because I got butterflies in my stomach at the thought of him wanting to spend more time with me. All I could do was smile and go back to unpacking some boxes.

Another hour went by and Op had the bed put together and put on the sheets and comforter, so sweet. That is when he walked over and grabbed my face and kissed me again. I was stunned.  

"What was that for?" I questioned, completely shocked

"It was a goodnight kiss, you deserve it and you look so beautiful and I have been wanting to do that since I saw you walk out of the courthouse earlier."

"Thanks for all your help today, I really appreciate it." I blushed not being able to look him in the eye.

"No problem, I would do anything for you. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know" walking over to my bed and sitting down. That was an odd question. Of course I know he would do anything for me.  

"Well good. I better go though Donna will have my ass if I am too late getting home. I will talk to you tomorrow. Have a great day at work Jen." he said walking over and giving me another kiss on the forehead

"You to Op, be careful going home."

"Always am, love.” He said with a wink.

I closed the door behind him and changed into my pjs and got ready for bed. When I got settled into bed my phone notified me that I had a message.

Op:I made it home; I had a great time today.

Me:Me too, thanks for all your help.

Op: No problem, sweet dreams :)

Me: Night Opie :)

I typed, "Love you" in a new message to him but quickly deleted it. What was I doing, I can't do that to Donna or his kids. We always want what we can’t have, at least that is what they say.

Well this is the first night in my apartment…all alone, before Opie left he made sure I had a gun in the top drawer of my side table and that my bed faced the door. Things that I would have done anyway considering my upbringing. I am honestly surprised that Jax and him didn't make the prospect come guard the door, until we all got use to me being here on my own. But, I am a big girl I can do this, even though I am a little jumpy anytime I hear a noise.  

I checked my alarm one more time before laying my phone on my side table, rolling over and drifting off to sleep.

#sons of anarchy #jax teller #opie winston #soa #fanfiction #sons of anarchy fanfiction #samcro

[rkxsungwoon-blog]

☆ MGA5 EPISODE FOUR; JULY 18 #5008 HA SUNGWOON ; interview

for the first time since he entered the competition, sungwoon faces the post performance interview with apprehension. his unease is apparent from the moment his name is called, and even the staff remark on his subdued attitude as they fix up his makeup. the smile on his face is fake, more for their sake than his own. “i’m fine,” he says cheerfully. “just… indigestion.” no one questions him too closely, and he keeps the painfully insincere grin in place as he enters the interview room and greets the interviewer. 

he has no real strategy for how to approach this, no idea what she’s going to hit him with this week. no idea how he’s going to answer, either, but a manic voice in sungwoon’s head tells him that he has nothing else to lose—so go with honesty for once in his goddamn life.

what were your thoughts on last week’s results? one of your band members, minhyun, was eliminated from the competition, wasn’t he?

of course they would begin with this. a familiar formula, yet he blinks, taken aback. perhaps because his mind isn’t fully present, and he has to work to pull his thoughts away from the churning guilt and mortification ever present in his mind. “the eliminations came as a shock,” sungwoon says plainly. “the top three were expected—mason, sia, and suwoong have all proved themselves already, and i think their partners definitely benefited from being paired up with them.” mason carried his duo in particular in sungwoon’s opinion, but he thinks that much is obvious. “so yeah, no surprises there. the eliminations were a different beast, though. i thought jinyoung and jeonghan should’ve been in the top three.” objectively, their performance was one of the best in his eyes. “yuqi and minhyun should’ve been safe too, but i guess my sixth sense failed me last round.”

he looks down at his hands, then back up with a distracted smile. “the shot at redemption… i’m not sure how to feel about that twist, but like everyone else, i’m eager to see who survives.”

are you hoping minhyun will return?

“i am.” he nods once, thinking that it would be poetic justice if minhyun returns just as sungwoon leaves, but the thought of empty enigma on the show without him hurts and he abandons it altogether. “of course i’d like to see him advance; he’s a talented performer and he deserves to be here. he’s versatile, he’s handsome, and he has a great personality. also, he recycles. isn’t he perfect?”

is it fair to say minhyun deserves to be here when some people question your band’s intentions in this competition?

his lips press into a thin line. “you’re talking about what eric said, right?” the interviewer nods, and sungwoon shrugs. “isn’t that a question for daniel? he’s the one who got called out.”

but the rest of your band was included in their comments as well.

“‘the band guys,’” sungwoon says, enveloping the phrase in air quotes before letting his arms fall to the sides. “you know, i’m kind of getting tired of it.” he hears the same sort of thing in interviews week after week. reads the same sort of thing online with netizens commenting on ‘daniel and the band’ like they’re one single entity. and god, it isn’t daniel’s fault that mnet seems to have made him the face of empty enigma. sungwoon doesn’t blame him for it—daniel deserves the attention and recognition he’s getting. but it is exhausting to feel like his contributions don’t matter. like he doesn’t matter. “it’s understandable to question our intentions, but i believe it’s disrespectful to pretend we’re not working as hard as anyone else here. we’ve earned our place through our own talents.”

his voice is even, controlled, the expression on his face mild. sungwoon doesn’t say that eric’s words have made him question what he’s doing here—because he’s not entirely wrong. they do want to promote the band, but he doesn’t understand why taking pride in their accomplishments is coded as a terrible thing. after all, people can have more than one goal. sungwoon doesn’t confess that the first thing he did when he arrived in seoul was audition to be an idol. he doesn’t point out that last year, he participated in the mgas without revealing his band, for all intents and purposes a genuine idol hopeful. he doesn’t admit that he wants to be here, even if eric is right and he’s taking a chance away from someone else.

(someone like minhyun).

sungwoon is a practiced enough liar that he doesn’t let any cracks show. “i can’t speak for everyone else’s intentions, but i know we all have our own reasons for being here beyond just promoting the band. we’re not a hive-mind or a homogeneous blob, even though people talk about us like we are. we’re individuals with our own goals and desires outside of our band too.” he plays with his frayed cuffs, picking at an errant thread as he speaks. “i mean, most of us have been pushing ourselves out of our comfort zones and performing in ways we never would in a band. we wouldn’t do that if we weren’t taking this seriously.”

he takes a deep breath, his smile turning sardonic as he leans forward. “and i want to say—if i have the decency to learn the names of everyone in the competition, i think others should make an effort too.” sungwoon holds up a hand and counts down. “sungwoon. woojin. kenta. minhyun. we’re not just ‘the guys’ or ‘the others’ or ‘daniel’s band.’ use our names next time you want to talk about us.”

moving on, you were paired with eunji this week. how was it like working with her?

his smile is a little more sincere at the mention of eunji. “she’s talented. seriously talented. we already knew each other prior to the competition—we’re neighbors—and working with her was both fun and easy.” he wants to laugh as the memory of their grease failures come to mind. “we were originally going to do grease’s summer lovin’, but we couldn’t keep a straight face while singing.” chuckling slightly, sungwoon runs a hand through his hair. “i don’t know why though; i think i could be a good danny zuko?” sungwoon gives the camera a winning smile before turning back to the interviewer. “really, it was great. rehearsal was never dull, and i think we sound really good together too. i’m so glad we were paired together.”  

how do you think your performance went?

sungwoon fights to keep his expression neutral. how do you think it went? he wants to ask, but refrains. humiliation still burns under his skin, but the anger at himself, at the whole situation, has faded. instead he’s caught somewhere between resignation and guilt for what this could do to eunji. maybe if he doesn’t discuss their mistake, the interviewer won’t press for details. with that in mind, he decides to stick to the positives. 

“i haven’t sung many showtunes before; i’m not familiar with musicals in general,” he admits. “but i wanted to challenge myself to try something new. i don’t know when else i’ll get the chance to experiment with different styles of music like this again.” his face falls a bit, but he fights to pull it back up. “eunji’s a phenomenal singer, so singing with her wasn’t hard either. it felt very natural to sell the whole story of the song.” he laughs and rubs his nose. “i mean, it’s not hard to pretend you’re falling in love with eunji, so i think we captured the essence of the number.”

you made a mistake, though. what went wrong?

he visibly deflates. bold of him to think mnet would let him pass without addressing this in some fashion. arms falling to his sides (flailing, despite his best efforts), sungwoon sucks in a deep breath. “we went over the time limit. unfortunately, we didn’t realize we’d been practicing with the wrong backing track all well.” lifting his head, he adds, “i’m not trying to make excuses for us. i understand that it’s extremely unprofessional to make a mistake like that. i’m disappointed in myself for not catching it sooner. i’m disappointed that all people are going to remember of our stage in the future is our flub. that’s not the impression i want to leave people with.”

another deep breath. he grips the edge of his seat. “none of this is eunji’s fault. i hope my mistake doesn’t reflect badly on her because she’s an amazing performer. even if we get eliminated, i want people to know that—she’s worth supporting till the end.”

is there anyone you are certain will move onto the next phase of the mgas?

sungwoon takes a moment to gather himself before responding. “suwoong and kyulkyung. suwoong impressed me; he showed a completely different side of himself, and he and kyulkyung compliment each other really well. their performance was… electric and intimate. i genuinely think they deserve to win today.” he’d been critical of whether suwoong was taking this competition seriously in one of the earlier rounds, but he can feel his sincerity now. “i also hope yukhei and woojin go through; i thought their performance was fun and they balance each other out well.”

is there anyone you are certain will be eliminated today?

“us.” this is the first time sungwoon has ever answered the question. “if the judges hold us to our mistake,” here he pauses and gives the interviewer a self-deprecating smile, “and i think they should, it’ll be us.” joohyun’s elimination hurt, but sungwoon understood it. he’d understand them being sent home as well. turning to face the camera, sungwoon stands and bows before saying, “i’m sorry, eunji.” sungwoon can’t bring himself to say more, his throat suddenly dry.

the interviewer seems to sense as much and thanks him for his time. sungwoon bids her farewell and returns to his seat. he’s oddly tired, but the full weight of today hasn’t crashed into him yet. he suspects he’ll feel worse after the eliminations, but for now, sungwoon looks down at his feet and waits.

#rkmga5 #rkmga5duos2 #( c: solo ) #( wc: 1694 ) #( +2 chr ) #( will tag people later i'm so tired ) #( as always if i mentioned you and you'd like me to edit/remove it please lmk! )

[maddie-grove]

Bi-Monthly Reading Round-Up: July/August

Playlist

“Mama Tried” by Merle Haggard (The Mars Room)

“Summer of Sam” by Lana del Rey (Sharp Objects)

“Keep Searchin’” by Del Shannon (Those Girls)

“No One Knows” by Dion and the Belmonts (Fortune’s Lady)

“Unpretty” by TLC (90s Bitch)

“Everybody’s Got the Right to Love” by the Supremes (Fool Me Twice)

“Loving Arms” by the Dixie Chicks (East)

“Spare Parts” by Bruce Springsteen (Joe College)

“You Said You Loved Me” from Bloody Blackbeard (Tomorrow and Forever)

“Hot in Herre” by Nelly (Miss Wonderful)

“Growin’ Up” by David Bowie (The Charm School)

“Somebody That I Used to Know” by Gotye (The Beggar Maid)

“Henry Lee” by Georgia Fireflies (Fairest)

Best of the Bi-Month

Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn (2006): Troubled journalist Camille Preaker returns to her claustrophobic Missouri hometown to report on the brutal murders of two teenage girls. The gruesome nature of her assignment is only matched by the cruelty and senselessness that fills her childhood home. Flynn marries a beautifully constructed plot with a wealth of distressingly vivid details, and the result is unforgettable. It’s like if V.C. Andrews had cared about being a more conventionally “good” writer. (No disrespect meant to V.C. Andrews, who didn’t really need to be any better, but she very much did her own thing re: plot and style.) Also, I love Camille a lot.

Worst of the Bi-Month

Fairest by Marissa Meyer (2015): In this prequel to The Lunar Chronicles, Princess Levana leads a luxurious existence on the moon colony ruled by her family, but lives in fear of her sadistic sister and believes she can never be loved because of the terrible scars hidden beneath her glamor. Her desperation for affection and validation eventually turns her into the Evil Moon Queen of the series proper, or something like that. Levana is probably meant to be a lonely, misguided girl who slowly descends into evil due to a barrage of disappointments, or else a conscienceless rapist (yes, rapist) whose suffering renders her somewhat pitiable. I honestly can’t tell, but the result is incoherent, to say the least. 

Rest of the Bi-Month

The Charm School by Susan Wiggs (1999): In 1850s Boston, painfully awkward spinster Isadora Peabody decides to leave her stifling, shallow family and work as a navigator/translator on a clipper ship, much to the frustration (at first!) of its raucous captain. This is a rollicking  romance with a nice Old Hollywood feel, partly because it owes a lot to Now, Voyager. Isadora’s character development is engaging, and there’s some interesting social commentary about the damaging effects of being forced to perform femininity.

The Beggar Maid by Alice Munro (1977): In this collection of short stories, Rose grows up poor and unshielded from the sordid realities of her mid-century Canadian town. Education and marriage change her life almost beyond recognition, and then she changes it again of her own volition. Munro’s descriptions are so perfect that I barely ever had to make an effort to imagine what anything looked like, and her observations about people are uncomfortably accurate. The stories become a little too sedate in the last quarter of the collection, though.

Joe College by Tom Perrotta (2000): Working-class Yale student Danny, equally at sea with his carelessly rich classmates and hostile townie coworkers, runs into even more trouble during a spring break spent driving his father’s lunch truck. Although the story takes a while to get started, it features several terrific setpieces (notably a dinner hosted by a classmate’s personally charming, politically heartless father) and has a thought-provoking ending.

Fortune’s Lady by Patricia Gaffney (1989): In 1790s England, Cass Merlin’s father is hanged as a Jacobin traitor, leaving her disgraced and practically alone in the world. Recruited/blackmailed into acting as a honeypot for a suspected Jacobin ringleader, she doesn’t expect to fall for Philip Riordan, her fellow spy, but you know how these things go. This is probably my favorite of all the Old School romances I’ve read. It has a fun if overly lurid plot inspired by Notorious, a compelling if occasionally idiot-ball-carrying heroine, and a hero who is only occasionally terrible. On the other hand, the villain is a bisexual who hates Edmund Burke, which (a) is kind of offensive and (b) makes it really hard for me, a bisexual who hates Edmund Burke, to hate him.

The Mars Room by Rachel Kushner (2018): Romy, a single mother and stripper from San Francisco, ends up serving two consecutive life sentences in maximum security prison after killing her stalker. This novel pissed me the fuck off, not because it’s bad, but because it showcases the blatant unfairness of the justice system for indigent defendants and the proudly heartless attitude that many people have towards prisoners. Kushner has a terrific style and makes lots of references to 1960s country music, which I appreciate, but she loses steam about two-thirds into the book.

90s Bitch by Allison Yarrow (2018): Pushing back against the wave of nineties nostalgia, Yarrow details the sexism rampant in the decade’s politics and media, covering topics like the Clarence Thomas sexual harassment controversy, the downfall of Tonya Harding, Dan Quayle’s war on Murphy Brown, and the watered-down feminism of the Spice Girls. Yarrow’s account is entertaining as the subject matter is infuriating, but I wish she’d spent more time establishing how the eighties were any less sexist, because that doesn’t sound quite right.

East by Edith Pattou (2003): Ebba-Rose grows up happy with her large family on their early modern Norwegian farm, until poverty, illness, and the exposure of a big lie threaten to end it all. Then a polar bear shows up at the door and offers to fix everything in return for Rose coming to live with him--an offer that Rose feels compelled to take not just out of desperation, but out of wanderlust. I’m not that familiar with “East of the Sun, West of the Moon,” but this seems to be a fairly straightforward retelling. It’s charming, though, and it really picks up after the candle incident.

Miss Wonderful by Loretta Chase (2004): Threatened with financial consequences if he doesn’t marry an heiress within a year, Napoleonic war veteran Alistair Carsington says “fuck that” and goes into the canal-building business with a friend in order to come up with the necessary cash. However, going into the canal business brings him into contact with the bewitching Mirabel Oldridge, who fucking hates the idea of a canal running through her village. This Regency romance turned out to be a lot sadder than I thought it would be--the hero and heroine spend just as much time dealing with PTSD and grief for a parent, respectively, as they do bantering--and it was a richer story for all of that. The start was pretty slow, though, and I could’ve done without the disdain for the lower class.

Fool Me Twice by Meredith Duran (2014): Desperate for safety, Olivia Holladay cons her way into a housekeeping position at the Duke of Marwick’s house, hoping to find letters that will keep her murderous stalker off her back forever. Then she becomes way too invested in the welfare of the duke, who has become agoraphobic and borderline feral after his wife’s sudden death. This Victorian romance had an even slower start than Miss Wonderful, and I never got a coherent sense of the heroine’s personality; she’s a combination of prim goody-goody and wily con artist, and those two sides never really gel. I did like the conclusion, and Duran’s style is excellent as ever.

Tomorrow and Forever by Maud B. Johnson (1980): Tricked into boarding a bride ship and brutalized by Blackbeard’s pirates, New England girl Marley Lancaster finally finds love with Captain Bates Hagen after they’re set adrift in a dinghy together. They start a new life in Bath, North Carolina, but can it survive the fact that Bates is kind of a dirtbag? I rather enjoyed this Old School romance, partly because of the unusual setting and partly because I just liked the heroine. She’s kind of weak-willed and not very good at solving problems, but she struggles through life anyway and I really rooted for her. Bates, for his part, is...not a rapist. He’s actually the least rapey man in the story, which is how it should be, right? Still, he’s a dirtbag who ditches his common-law wife in a hostile colonial town and seems affronted when she doesn’t stay put. Plus I feel like only half the rapes in the story were narratively necessary.

Those Girls by Chevy Stevens (2015): Three sisters flee their rural Canadian home after the youngest kills their abusive father, only to face more horrible violence from men. Years later, after they’ve started a new life in Vancouver, the past reemerges and, you guessed it, there is more horrible violence. I finished this book and asked myself, “Is a woman made to suffer?” Like, I obviously read a lot about women suffering (see: most of this list), but this whole story is just women suffering, briefly trying to get revenge, and suffering more because of the revenge. 

[hollandtomholland]

Side Effects

- A Tom Holland Oneshot

(A/N): Thank you for all your love on my first piece! You guys are too kind, so here’s a second not-so-little something that I’ve been playing about with. I won’t be able to write so regularly as I’m back in class and work this week, but I hope you enjoy this one for now. Much love as always xo 

Words: 5k

Summary: When your co-star quits the show three weeks before opening night, a new actor is brought in to play the romantic lead opposite you. Tom may be incredibly talented, but how can you possibly be expected to build the intense chemistry you need at such short notice?

“Come on people, everyone on their feet and looking lively!”

You looked up from your position on the floor as Vincent entered the room. The man may have been a born director, but sometimes you wished he would ease up a little. Then again, maybe overbearing was just the standard. This was only your first professional theatre role, so what did you really know about anything?  You’d been incredibly lucky to be offered this opportunity, as the female lead no less. For a first gig, this was pretty sweet. You’d been blessed with three very supportive castmates, and under Vincent’s skilled direction everything was running smoothly. Getting to work in such a prestigious theatre had been a dream too, you thought, as Vincent motioned for you all to join him on the stage.

 “Where’s Danny?” Alyssa, the supporting actress, whispered as she caught up to you. Danny was the male lead, and it was definitely not like him to be absent. Today, you were supposed to be rehearsing some of your most climactic scenes. The play followed your characters as they took part in a medical trial, experiencing a deep attraction and later love that may or may not be a side effect of the drug they were taking. It was a highly emotional, thought provoking piece that required a close bond between the two of you, and you’d worked very hard to create that. Hopefully, he was just running a little bit late and you’d be able to rehearse as usual.

“I hope everyone’s ready to get started” Vincent began, as the cast and technical team gathered in front of him. “Just a quick announcement before we do: I’m afraid Danny is no longer with us, so we’re going to be…”

“Danny’s dead?” Simon, the supporting actor, spluttered. Vincent waved his hand dismissively.

“Dead to us, maybe. He called me last to night to say that he’d been offered a part in a new television pilot, so would be quitting our cast effective immediately”.

A surprised murmur spread throughout the room. It wasn’t unusual for an actor to be juggling multiple projects, but to suddenly quit this close to opening night? It was a betrayal none of you had seen coming. How could Danny have done this to you? Vincent clapped his hands together to silence everyone. “Would you all just calm down and listen? Yes, it’s inconvenient, but I won’t let it ruin everything we’ve worked for”

Inconvenient? That was the understatement of the century. The chemistry between the two leads was essential to the play’s success, and with Danny now gone, how could you possibly be expected to get to that stage with anyone else in just three weeks’ time?

“Luckily for us, I’ve managed to secure a replacement. He’s incredibly talented, already knows the play, and should be here any minute now. So, there’s no need to panic” Vincent announced, oddly calm for someone whose production was now in jeopardy. “Vincent? Could I have a quick word?” you cut in, trying not to sound as irate as you felt.

“If you have something to say, you can say it in front of everyone” he replied, staring you down.

“I’m a little worried about this, if I’m honest” you started, choosing your words carefully. “Everything we’ve done so far has been informed by Danny’s interpretation of the character, another actor will do it differently and our performances will have to change”.

Vincent rolled his eyes. “You’re new to this, so you don’t understand. Worse things have happened in the theatre and the show always goes on. It will take some extra work, and if you can’t do it then I can find someone to replace you just as easily as I replaced Danny”.

You could feel your temper flaring. Why did he have to be so dismissive of you? “I can do it” you retorted, and he shrugged. “Let’s hope so”.

At that moment, you were interrupted by the sounds of the foyer door opening. You turned to see a man about your age entering the auditorium, his hair tousled and his cheeks flushed from the cold winter winds. Vincent’s demeanour switched from unpleasant to personable in an instant, and he dashed off the stage and down the aisle to greet him. “We were just talking about you! We’re so grateful you could come at such short notice” he enthused, shaking the new arrival’s hand vigorously before turning back to everyone. “This is the wonderful actor who’s stepped in to save our show”.

The man smiled graciously at Vincent, before addressing the room. “Hello everyone, I’m Tom. It’s lovely to meet you all, and I’m very much looking forward to getting started”. His eyes caught yours for just a second as he surveyed the room, and you felt a flash of something you weren’t familiar with. He seemed genuine enough, with just a touch of nervousness that was to be expected when entering an already established group dynamic. Alyssa nudged you surreptitiously. “Ohh, I’ve seen him before, he’s very good. Much more attractive than Danny too” she whispered. You had to agree with her; Tom was certainly easy on the eye. He had one of those classically good-looking faces, with finely sculpted cheekbones and a cut-glass jawline. Where Danny had been broad and rugged, your new co-star was slim and yet athletically built. “Lucky you!” Alyssa added, and you grimaced. “I just hope this works out”.

Vincent raised a hand to get everyone’s attention. “Now we’re all here, we can get started. Alyssa, Simon, I want you to run through scene six on the stage and I’ll be with you in a moment. (Y/N), come here please”. He motioned for you to hurry up, before turning back to talk to Tom. By the time you reached them, Vincent was laughing at something he’d said. Tom was smiling politely back, but you could tell he wasn’t entirely on board with the slightly disconcerting nice guy act. His attention moved onto you as you approached, and he stepped away from Vincent to greet you. “You must be (Y/N)” he said warmly, holding out a hand to you. You shook it firmly, noting his strong grip. 

“I was just telling Tom about that silly little panic you had back there” Vincent cut in, throwing an arm around Tom’s shoulders. He really was laying it on too thick now, which would almost be funny if he wasn’t belittling you to a near stranger. To his credit, Tom’s brow furrowed a little as he easily shrugged the arm away and addressed you again. “I know it’s not easy having someone quit on you at such a crucial time, and it makes complete sense that you’re worrying right now. I know the play very well and I understand what we’re up against here, but I promise you I’m committed. I’m going to work as hard as I can to get up to speed and do justice to the work you’ve all done so far” he told you, his tone both serious and reassuring. 

As much as this ingratiated him with you, it did the opposite where Vincent was concerned. He stood with his arms folded, lips pursed in dissatisfaction. He had always been big on respect, and you could tell that he felt very disrespected right now. “That’s enough chit-chat” he snapped, giving the both of you a disdainful glare. “Head to the rehearsal room and read through all your scenes together, we’re working with no breaks today”.

With that, he stormed off down the aisle towards the stage. By now you were accustomed to Vincent’s childish outbursts,  but Tom was completely taken aback. “Should I... should I go apologise?” he asked, his eyes darting nervously between you and Vincent. “He’s like that with everybody” you replied, as Vincent began barking orders at a very startled Alyssa. “It’s nothing personal, but we should probably get started before he bites our heads off again”.

“Yeah... good plan” Tom agreed, running a hand through his hair. He followed as you led him to the rehearsal room, a small studio-style space lined with full length mirrors and folding chairs. You pulled up two chairs and gestured for Tom to sit. He still looked uneasy, and you couldn’t help but feel bad for him. It wasn’t an encouraging start to his first day, especially when he’d come in with such enthusiasm for the production. “Hey, don’t worry about it too much. He was already annoyed at me so it wasn’t anything you did” you reassured him, taking a seat in the other chair. “And besides, everyone else here is a dream to work with. That’s what gets me through the day anyway”.

This seemed to put Tom’s mind at rest. “That’s good to hear. I just can’t believe I got on the director’s bad side when I hadn’t even been here five minutes!”

“Please, I pissed him off by offering to get him a coffee once” you admitted, earning a gentle chuckle from Tom. “I’ll make a note never to do that, then” he grinned, and you were pleased to see his former eagerness returning. “Let’s get down to business. You said you know the play well?”

“Yeah, I performed it a few years back. Not in this role though, but the director made us learn all the lines off by heart and I still remember it” 

“Wow, I barely know my own part let alone everyone else’s!” you exclaimed, and Tom shrugged modestly. 

“I’m sure you’re very good” he said, his eyes meeting yours as they had done earlier. You were hit by the same unfamiliar sensation, and you pushed it to the back of your mind as you sat up a little straighter. “Shall we start from scene two?”

As the two of you began to run through your scenes, you realised that Alyssa had been right; Tom was very good. Though his interpretation of the character was different to Danny’s, it didn’t take long for you to appreciate his sheer talent. He hit the highs and the lows with perfectly measured emotion, and you managed to make minor adaptations to your own reading with relative ease. It wasn’t flawless, but it was a very promising start.  

As the days went by, you were constantly in awe of his ability to bring a character to life before your very eyes. It was undeniable: this guy was the real deal. Before long, he was fully ingratiated with the cast. Contrary to your misgivings, it was almost like he’d been there all along. He had a natural charm that seemed to infect everyone around him, and a refreshing modesty that was rarely possessed by those with his level of talent. The few breaks you got were full of in-jokes and laughter, which were a great antidote to Vincent’s increasingly volatile temperament.

“No no NO! You’re just not getting it right!”

It was three days till opening night, and you were rehearsing one of the play’s most intense love scenes. This would be the fourth time you’d run through it this evening, and every time Vincent had something disparaging to say about it. Everyone was getting frustrated, and at this point you were too worked up to give your best performance. You could tell that Tom felt the same, pacing back and forth across the stage to burn off some of his restlessness. 

What annoyed you the most was that Vincent seemed to be the only one unhappy with your performances. In the last few days, you and Tom had really begun to find that spark you’d been missing. You’d got to know him so well during the long hours you spent together, and the two of you had made a habit of grabbing dinner together to get to know each other better. He’d even go out of his way to walk you back to your apartment every night, just to make the most of every shred of time you had at your disposal. By now, you felt like you knew him better than most of your friends. You felt such a rush when you were performing opposite him, more than you’d ever done with Danny. 

It was a rush you felt offstage too. At first you’d tried to ignore it, but eventually you’d been forced to admit it to yourself; Tom made you feel something very real and very scary. All the time you’d been spending together had built up to you noticing so many amazing things about him, and before long, he had you completely. Falling for your co-star wasn’t unheard of, especially with productions as intense as yours, but you’d never thought it would happen to you. 

Of course, you thought, Tom was too professional to make the same mistake. He’d acted opposite so many women over the years, and by now would be immune to the emotions that the process stirred up. He may be an incredibly convincing lover on stage, but offstage you were definitely just friends. It stung a little... okay, more than a little. Everyday you got to hear him telling you he loved you, you got to have him look at you with desire, you got to kiss him, but none of it was real. All of that had been thrilling at first, but now it left you cold and disappointed. 

Perhaps that was what Vincent was seeing. In an attempt to stifle your feelings, recently you’d been holding back a little with the physical elements of your performance. When Tom kissed you, you’d force your mind out of the moment and think of something banal. You’d kissed guys onstage before, this didn’t need to be any different. When he held you, you’d replace his face with that of somebody else and forget that it was his arms around you. It may have been inhibiting your performance, but it was better than letting your feelings run away with themselves. 

“This is appalling. It’s like you’re getting worse, not better!” Vincent seethed, his hand clenched into tight fists. 

“What do you need us to do?” Tom asked patiently, expertly hiding his frustration. 

“Find new actors!” was the petulant reply he received, causing him to grit his teeth and turn away. He glanced at you nervously, and you felt a cold streak of guilt run through you. This wasn’t his fault, it was all you. He didn’t deserve such derision. 

“That’s it, everyone out. We’re done for the night” Vincent announced, standing up and throwing his coat on. “But not you two. You’re not leaving here until you get it perfect, even if it takes you all night. I’m not sitting around to watch this train wreck any longer” 

He stormed off down the aisle, followed by Simon and Alyssa. The latter shot you an apologetic half-smile over her shoulder, mouthing “I’ll text you” as she left. You were left standing at the edge of the stage, barely able to look at Tom as the two of you found yourselves alone. 

For a moment, there was silence. Tom approached the edge of the stage, moving to sit on the top step. “I don’t get it” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “We had it so perfect, and now...”

He looked back at you as he trailed off, patting the space next to him. Hesitantly you sat. “He’ll never be completely happy with anything we do” you said, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself.

“I know that, but at the moment I kind of get where he’s coming from”

“How do you mean?” you asked, and he let out a deep sigh.

“We’d built up the passion so well over the last couple of weeks, and now it’s like... something’s missing”.

So he’d noticed it too. You’d really hoped he hadn’t, but that was clearly naive of you. Of course he’d sensed that something was off. He was a deeply intuitive actor, and it wouldn’t have been hard for him to notice the tiny differences in your performance lately. You remained silent, not knowing how to address his very accurate statement. 

“Is it something I’m doing?”  Tom asked suddenly, his gaze burning into the side of your face.

“What? No! You’re great. You’re more than great” you rushed to reassure him, appalled that he’d even consider this to be his fault. 

“It was never going to be perfect, coming in this late, and I know I’m no Danny but...”

“Screw Danny” you interrupted, letting out a bitter laugh as you turned to face him. “He doesn’t have half the talent you do. You’re a hundred times better than him and everyone else I’ve ever acted opposite”.

Tom seemed genuinely surprised to hear this. “Thank you” he said softly, and it was clear how much this meant to him. A gentle smile lifted the corners of his mouth, as his eyes met yours. “Really, thank you”

You smiled back at him, enjoying the sensation that his gaze spread throughout your body. Truly, he was breathtakingly attractive, in both looks and personality. He made you feel warm and carefree, so comfortable in his company that it was like you’d known him for years. It was so easy to get wrapped up in moments such as this, when he looked at you looked that, when his face was just inches from yours...

Snapping out of it, you chastised yourself for losing focus. You jumped to your feet, startling Tom as you took a few strides across the stage. “We should get back to the scene, I really don’t want to be stuck here all night” you announced, and Tom slowly got to his feet too. “Is everything okay? he asked, and you nodded vigorously. “Yep, I’m great. Where did we get to?” 

Tom thought for a second, before taking a few steps towards you in character. “If you're in love, there's nothing you can do about it”

God you hated that line. In this scene, your characters were coming to terms with their feelings for each other. Tom’s character was embracing the attraction, but yours was supposed to be questioning whether it was purely a side effect of the medication. You steeled yourself, thrusting your shoulders back and moving into position. “But if it's something else, something else controlling me - ” 

"Then you're not in control”.  Tom took another step towards you, his eyes dark and intense.

"There's nothing I can do about it” 

"Yes”. Another step. You swallowed sharply, before closing the gap between the two of you. 

“I'm in love” 

The tension reached it’s peak, exactly as the script required. Tom reached out to grasp your face with both hands, a gesture you’d rehearsed time and time again, before pulling you into him and pressing his lips to yours. Your arms came up to wrap around his back, and you forced your mind to out of the moment. Tom was kissing you, but he wasn’t kissing you. He was in character, kissing your character, and none of the passion you felt from him in that moment was real.

He pulled away suddenly, stepping out of the scene. “It’s that! Do you see what I mean? It’s just not quite right”. He seemed deeply frustrated, brow furrowed as he paced across the stage. “I can’t work out what we’re doing wrong”. Turning on his heel, he marched back to you again. “Maybe if I...”

He placed his hands on your waist and pulled you into him suddenly, eyes narrowed in concentration. “And maybe if you put your hands in my hair”.

Mutely you obeyed, lacing your fingers into his dark curls. Being this close to Tom was nothing new, but it still had your heart beating faster than you’d have liked. “Good, good, that feels like it could work. So if I just...”

And his lips were on yours again, kissing you passionately. For a brief moment you were thrown by this new position, but before you could kiss him back, he pulled away. “Still no!” he exclaimed, now visibly flustered. He kissed you again, once, twice, three times, each one more insistent that the last. This was slowly becoming more than you could handle, but it was easier to just stand there and let him try than admit the real root of your problems. Tom stepped back a little, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders. “They’re in love, yes? And they’ve got all this pent up frustration, all this sexual tension that’s been building up to this one moment” he said, his breath coming in exasperated pants. “Perhaps that’s what we’re missing, the savouring of those last few seconds...”

He pulled you into him once more, his face inches from yours. You barely knew where to look as his eyes roamed your face, fingers pressing into your hips. You braced yourself for the kiss that would surely follow, but instead he tilted his head and let his lips brush along your jawline. One feather-light kiss, then another, his breathing shallow as he moved down your neck to a spot below your ear that you knew would be your undoing. That was it: you couldn’t do this anymore. 

Hastily you untangled yourself from his arms. “I just don’t think we’re going to get it tonight, we’re putting too much pressure on ourselves and it’s only making us feel worse” you gabbled, unable to look at him as you dashed for the stairs. “I’ll deal with Vincent tomorrow but for now we should just call it a night”. 

You left him standing alone on the stage as you reached the front row, grabbing your bag off the seat and slinging it over your shoulder. Much to your exasperation, Tom hurried after you. “Hey, wait” he called, as you sped off down the aisle. It wasn’t difficult for him to match your speed, and he grabbed your arm as he caught up. You came to a sudden stop, disinclined to be rude but really wishing he would just let you go. 

“Seriously, is everything okay? he asked, keeping a firm grip on your wrist. 

“Honestly I’m fine, a little tired maybe” you insisted, flashing him what you hoped was a convincing smile. He stared back at you, concern visible on his face, but he released his grip on your arm nonetheless. “At least let me walk you home” he implored, but you shook your head. “Thanks but it’s okay, I’ve got a couple of errands to run first”. With that, you turned away and headed down the aisle. You didn’t look back until you reached the door; Tom was still stood where you’d left him, staring hopelessly after you. Repressing your guilt, you nodded a goodbye and exited the theatre. 

This would be the first time in a week that you’d walked home alone, but you tried not to think about that as you made your way briskly through the city. You were also trying not to think about the look on Tom’s face as you left. It was etched into your mind, tugging at your emotions no matter how hard you tried to forget it. As soon as you got back to your tiny apartment, you threw your bag on the couch and busied yourself with cooking dinner. It was best to try and keep up some semblance of normalcy, in a bid to calm yourself down. 

How had you let it get to this point? It was so stupid, so cliched, and it was ruining everything. Tom deserved a better actress than you, someone who knew how to separate reality from fiction and give a good performance regardless of their feelings. So much was riding on this job for you, and you were self-sabotaging purely because of your own dumb emotions. Tom would never fall for you anyway. You were just some second-rate pretender and he was at the top of his game. Anyone could see it, and no audience would be fooled by your clearly false chemistry. Maybe you should just quit. That would solve all your problems, well, maybe not your financial ones, but the diner round the corner was always looking for extra waitresses. 

Just as you were waiting for a pot of water to boil, there was a loud knock at the door. You glanced at the clock. It was 11:30 at night; who could possibly be needing you at this hour? You turned off the stove and headed to the door, lamenting your lack of of a spyhole. Opening it, you revealed a familiar figure standing in the hallway. Your breath hitched in your throat. “Look Tom, I’m sorry if I...”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence.

Without a word he reached for your waist and pulled you into his chest, and suddenly he was kissing you with a heated urgency that left every single kiss you’d ever experienced behind. His lips were soft and yet demanding, stealing your breath and giving it to you all at the same time. There was nothing you could do but kiss him back, matching his intensity as you threw your arms around his neck to pull him even closer. You felt yourself being pushed against the wall, his body pressed so close to yours that you could feel the heat radiating between you.  

This was no stage kiss; this was very, very real. 

With a low groan he withdrew his lips from yours, barely moving a centimetre away. “Please,” he whispered against your lips, “Please let me be right”. His eyes locked onto yours, dilated pupils making them seem even darker somehow. “”Please tell me you feel this too”.

“I do,” you whispered back, “I do”.

Your mind was reeling as you stared back at him, heart beating so fast you wondered if he could feel it. This was what you’d been feeling on stage, until you’d started to back away. You’d been completely wrong; that spark you’d felt, the intense chemistry the two of you had developed... it was all real. You could see it in his eyes, so clear that you’d wondered how you’d ever missed it. When Tom had been kissing you, he really was kissing you. You realised that now, overcome with ecstatic relief. 

Tom let out a shaky breath, before moving in to kiss you with a renewed passion. His lips moved hungrily on yours, kissing you again and again like he simply couldn’t get enough. It was you who withdrew this time, but not because you wanted to; “We should probably close the door,” you mumbled, “We’re putting on a bit of a show”. 

A gentle chuckle bubbled up from his throat, and he reluctantly released you from his arms and stepped away to close the door. You tipped your head backwards, letting it rest against the wall as you got your breath back. Tom did the same, tilting his chin so he could look at you. “I ran here pretty fast” he confessed, running a hand through his hair. “I should’ve taken a taxi really, but it felt more cinematic that way”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the idea of Tom speeding through the streets, like something out of a cheesy romance movie. “Never had you down as the hopeless romantic type”.

He raised an eyebrow. “Me? Oh yeah, I definitely am. Only way to be in my opinion”. 

There was a pause, as the two of you let your breathing return to normal. Tom spoke first:

“I knew it was risky coming over here and kissing you like that, but I had to know. I realised what was wrong with our scene as soon as you left. Our chemistry was always good but I’ve kissed enough people on stage to know real passion when I feel it” He turned back to you, eyes bright and cheeks flushed. “I felt it so strongly, and I thought you were feeling it too until the last few days”.

“I was... I am”, you admitted, and his brow furrowed.

“So what happened?”

You sighed, stepping away from the wall and moving over to the sofa. You gestured for Tom to join you as you sat, pulling your knees up to your chest. He flopped down beside you, an expectant look on his face.

“I started holding back. I didn’t think you felt the way I did, and I didn’t want to get carried away” you explained, and he reached out to  drape his arm across your shoulders. He puled you into him, letting your head rest in the crook of your neck “Of course I felt the same way. I just didn’t want to tell you unless it made things awkward onstage. I guess that happened anyway”. 

“I guess it did” 

“Promise me you won’t hold back anymore, though” he urged you, his breath warm against your skin. 

“I won’t. I don’t need to anymore” you assured him, and he smiled down at you. “Vincent’s gonna be so pleased with us tomorrow, when we’re miraculously back on form”

“He’ll put it down to his masterful direction and then find something else to yell at us about” you predicted cynically, feeling Tom’s chest rise and fall beneath you as he laughed at the comment. “That’s true. I don’t mind though. I’m just happy I get to kiss you five nights a week”

“For the next three months” you added, and he hummed his satisfaction. 

“It’s the ideal job, really”. 

------

As you took your final bows on opening night, the applause from the audience was almost deafening. You stood proudly beside Tom, his fingers laced into yours as you looked out at the standing ovation. The second the velvet curtains closed in front of you he pulled you into him, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You were amazing” he murmured into your ear, spreading a warm sensation throughout your body. “So were you” you whispered back, as he smiled adoringly down at you.

“Let’s get out of here. I’ve got a few things in mind that we don’t need an audience for”

#tom holland oneshot #tom holland x reader #Tom Holland #tom holland fluff #I can't tell if I like this one or not #performing arts au #file under my stuff #what kind of idiot proofreads three times and doesn't notice the typo in their author's note??

[rickrakontoys]

Justice League Very VERY flawed, with numerous problems, but it has enough entertainment value to make it worth a watch. 6.75/10 ***SPOILER TALK*** The Good: - The cast works very well together, and for the most part are all likeable. - Despite the little screentime spent to establish them, Aquaman, Flash, and Cyborg mesh naturally into this world. The decision to make Aquaman this hard-drinking dudebro type helps make him stand out from the others. Flash being made much younger here gives him an interesting contrast to the more experienced warriors of the team. Cyborg wrestles with his own existence and his ties to alien technology. I would watch movies about any of these characters! - Wonder Woman is still great here, and they try to explain why she was out of action for so long after WW1. Steve Trevor is her Bucky (what pushes her buttons... Bruce gets called an asshole for using Steve to chastise Diana) - Superman finally gets some good moments to be... Superman here, though they are few. Most of his scenes are memorable and fun, escpecially with the Flash. His whole engagement with the League after his resurrection was great. - The added levity here helps to break up the dreary look of the film. Though some of the quippiness was off-putting, for the most part it works. - This was a marked improvement upon Batman v Superman. But oddly, it could have used a longer runtime to fill in the numerous gaps in the story and help the movie flow more. The Bad: - The plot in general is garbage. Just... awful. There is only a bare minimum of a story here to get the League together. - Steppenwolf... sucks. He is Malekith from Thor 2 bad. He looks awful. His design and dialogue generic as hell. His motivation is mere cartoon villainy. It is at least somewhat satisfying to see the entire League beat the shit out of him. Superman and Wonder Woman pummel him good at the end. But he leaves no impression at all. Why did he have to be fully CGI??? What is with the DCEU and big, grey, CGI monster men as the final boss battle (Doomsday, Ares, whatever the fuck that thing in Suicide Squad was)??? - The beginning of the movie is incoherent, disjointed, and hard to follow. Much of the movie consists of just... scenes of stuff happening without a solid throughline or flow. The opening of the movie is a scene with Batman that immediatley devolves into Synder's incoherent numbing action. Wonder Woman gets a nice action scene fighting terrorists, but it is completely detached from the rest of the movie and serves no purpose. - They just sorta show Atlantis without much setup, expecting us to just know what is happening and who Mera is... She is just... there. No establishing scene or shot. Feels like a lot is missing. - Themyscira is shown again. Still bad green screening like in Wonder Woman. Now with more metal bikini armor... there is a scene of Steppenwolf attacking the Amazons for the Mother Box they have that goes on too long. - The Mother Boxes... more power cubes/boxes acting as McGuffins??? Nothing about them was explained very well. They were just... powerful evil things Steppenwolf wants. Cyborg can interact with them. They terraform worlds into Apokalips... yawn. Didn't Zod already do the terraforming villain plot? Only... better??? - The way the League resurrects Superman was... baffling. Batman just guesses the Mother box can bring him back? He and Wonder Woman start ranting about "ethics"??? Predictably, this revival invalidates his death in BvS. Also, they show everyone mourning Superman at the start. Nothing in the movies show that he inspired any hope at all. BvS showed everyone fearing him or distrusting him. They are relying solely on the audience's familiarity with his character's real world legacy to elicit sympathy. -To revice Supes, they have to do this elaborate procedure of dropping the box into the kryptonian fluid pool with Flash zapping it as it touches the fluid, but don't explain why they have to do it like that... why do they need to drop it?! They just leave their mother box unattended after Superman revives just so Steppenwolf can just steal it immediately??? Where did Cyborg even hide the third box where he could just pop up suddenly with it in his hands in the first place? If they are so important, why did the Atlanteans and Themysira just leave their boxes out in the freakin open in big rooms instead of... deeeeep underground in a damn vault in a bigger box surrounded by death traps and fire and lava and shit??? - Steppenwolf sets up base in Russia or some old soviet country. And the movie keeps showing this random russian family for some reason throughout (reminded me of Sokovia in Age of Ultron, but here it was done very sloppily). Also, this giant apokalips dome thing is built there and no one in any other country notices??? - Danny Elfman's score is forgettable save for two instances... when he calls back to his old 89 batman theme, and when he plays a few notes from the John Williams Superman theme... these callbacks are pointless, and serve only to remind you of better movies from a bygone era. - Good god... Superman's CGI mouth. It is in the FIRST SCENE of the movie. It looks terrible. It looks expensive. It looks unnatural. A fake mustache for Henry Cavill woulda saved them time and money. - The flashback scene explaining the three mother boxes felt like the Lord of the Rings prologue. A green lantern was shown... cuz fan service. - The entire action finale was more numbing Snyder bullshit full of bright explosions, gunfire, and single color theme (red in this case). There is no style or wit here. Just CGI overload. It gets better once the team confront Steppenwolf directly. - The movie looks kinda... ugly in general. - Lois again has little to do, but i guess its ok since this is a League movie and she's a glorified cameo. - Batman was pretty useless here. He gets his ass handed to him quite often. Suppose that is the point since his power is "I'm rich". Plus he's old now and doesnt move quite as fast. I still like Affleck as Batman. - ok, i gotta stop. Sounds like I'm being harsh on the movie but that is only because the Justice League deserves AMAZING rather then just "passable". This reeks of too many hands in the pot, and the result is a mess... but at least it is a fun mess. I would watch it again, unlike BvS or Suicide Squad, which i can barely sit through 10 minutes of anymore...

#justice league #movie review

[mimmerr]

Who should be cast in the Rivers of London TV series?

Coppers, familiar London settings and wizardry: the Rivers of London book series for you, simply summarised. The contemporary series by Ben Aaronovitch has seen Peter Grant, a young officer, join the force. By force here, I mean specifically, the wizarding branch of the London Met. He has learned spells, met the mystical beings hidden in our capital and even has a river for a girlfriend. The book series is brilliant: gritty, informed and full of believable unbelievable characters. So when I heard that Simon Pegg and Nick Frost’s production company Stolen Picture had required the rights to make a television series, I was over a very nerdy moon. 

With book to TV/film adaptations though, you will always startle the “original fans”, people belligerent on canon and authenticity. And as much as I hope that the series does the books and graphic novels justice, I am pretty confident that I will enjoy it being brought to life on the small screen in any form. I’m easily pleased.

But, considering what a fantastic year it has been for British television, doing Rivers of London right would be the mystical cherry on the cake. And I think one of the key things the production company will need to get right is a stellar British cast. Think Line of Duty, The Bodyguard, Shaun of the Dead. And out of the goodness of my geeky heart, here is a little nudge nudge as to who I think should be who, inspired by this blog post I came across a few months back, which is also full of great ideas.

SPOILER WARNING!

Peter Grant - Doc Brown

This the one I am hellbent on. Please. Get. Doc. Brown. He would be the best Peter Grant possible and who I visualised from the very first novel. He’s a Londoner, is a comedian (which might help with Peter’s witty takes on magical happenings) and has played a copper on more than one occasion. We can only hope he takes up the role again, just with a twist.

Thomas Nightingale - Greg Wise

Just like with Doc Brown, I saw Greg Wise as Nightingale instantaneously. His credits include posh period dramas like Sense and Sensibility and more recently, The Crown. Essentially, he is going to have Nightingale’s air of sophistication mastered before he even starts filming. 

Lesley May - Jodie Comer

Anyone who saw Killing Eve will understand why I can see Jodie as Lesley. I think in the early part of the series, Lesley’s role might be a bit ‘Girl next door’* for Jodie, considering the complexity of roles like Villanelle but just think of where she will take the role when Lesley goes onto the dark side. Chills, people!

Mama Thames - T’Nia Miller

If you saw T’Nia’s masterful performance in Years and Years, then you know she is more than capable of emulating Mama Thames’ authority and style. She is also known for her work in Doctor Who as a general (how fitting!), so let’s tick the fantasy/Sci-Fi box too.

Beverley Brook - Antonia Thomas

Beverley is possibly my favourite characters from ROL, she’s intelligent, cunning and in some novels, is just as important to the case as Peter is. She is a queen. So, I was thinking Misfits, where Antonia Thomas played Alisha, a headstrong young woman touched by magical powers.

Alexander Seawoll - Lee Mack

Seawoll is funny. Lee Mack is funny. He’d be a good comic relief throughout the series and he got the miserable sod character perfect in Not Going Out.

Molly - Kaya Scodelario

Effie in Skins was initially quiet and a bit creepy. Sound familiar? Scodelerio has recently starred in horrors, which I am too afraid to watch, so let’s see how scary and eccentric she can make the Folly’s fae helper.

The Faceless Man/Martin Chorley - Stephen Graham

Line of Duty fans, have your cake and eat it. Stephen Graham would master the intimidating nature of the Faceless man as well as the heartbreak when he loses his daughter and is interviewed by police. It would only be a shame that at first that we wouldn’t see him act!

So there we have my preferences for the cast. I was also thinking Danny Dyer, if he wore a bit of make up or if CGI did some magic, he could be a good Father Thames. I’m also interested to see if Nick Frost and Simon Pegg have a cameo too. Perhaps as Seawoll and Dr Walid? Anyway, I’m sure the series will be fantastic regardless of whether I get any of the casting right.**

*I understand that Lesley is by no means a girl next door but at this point in the series, she isn’t as interesting as an assassin.

** BUT PLEASE CAST DOC BROWN!

#rivers of london #tv #simon pegg #nick frost #doc brown #stephen graham #jodie comer #greg wise #lee mack #t'nia miller #antonia thomas #kaya scoledario #ben aaronovitch

[omgmissmillie-blog]

Sparks [Trent Seven]

A/N- y'all I procrastinate way too much and I’m sorry. After finals I will be finishing up a bunch of stories because I am very unreliable when it comes to fics sometimes 😂😂 but anyways this is for my mans Trent he gets no love sometimes so I decided to make a fic for him. So enjoy le chapter one ❤

Wordcount:3,684

Warning: Swearing & Cheating

Tagging: @hardcorewwetrash @screamersdontdance @asylumxclub @fuckyeahbulletclub @sammiielli

Little feet tread across the wooden floor, I held my breath and shut my eyes as I pretended to be asleep. “Mommy!! Wake up its time to see Miss Shannon!” My lovely child Gianna shook my arm but I remained silent. “Mommy!!!” Gianna jumped up and down on the mattress. I jump up and grab her. “Boo! C'mere little girl!” Her little screams and giggles filled the apartment.

“Did you try to get dressed?“ She stood up straight in front of the mattress and held a cute crooked smile. I couldn’t help but laugh at the outfit she picked out. “Gigi baby..are you sure you wanna wear your tutu out today? Its raining and it might get ruined.” I fix the slightly slanted tutu around her waist. “But…I told miss Shannon i’d wear it today.” Gianna brought her arms across her face and began to sniffle.

“Okay okay baby, If you go get your boots and jacket you can wear your tutu. I promise” I held my pinky out and wiggled it under her arm. She removed one arm and wrapped her small pinky around mine.

Gianna rushed out of the room to get her stuff, I grab my clothes and head into the bathroom to shower quickly. The warm water splashed off my skin and bounced to the bottom of the tub.

“Mommy..can I come in?” Gianna knocked until I shut the water off and wrapped up in a towel. I open the door, she sat cross legged on the floor looking up at me smiling.

“Ewww mommy is naked” she squealed and giggled. I smiled down at her, “Everything that I have you have as well Gigi, now come on lets brush our teeth.” I lift her onto the counter and grab the tooth brushes, Gianna kicked her legs forward and sang, “brush brush brush your teeth brush brush brush your teeth.” I lean over and bob into the sink, she followed suit and spit into the sink.

“Look at mommy and smile” I turn towards her and cup her cheeks, she smiled big and reached out for mine, “smile mommy!” I smile back and help her down. I pull my clothes on and slide into some old black converses. The rain came down hard against the window, I finished helping Gianna get ready and held her hand as we left our apartment.

We walked out of the elevator and headed to the mailboxes, Gianna enjoyed saying good morning to all the seniors, I found it rather cute that she wanted to run around and hug them and say hello. Mrs.Melody turned the corner from the elevator and approached us, Gianna gasped and ran over to her, she smiled at her softly and dug in her purse and pulled a lollipop out and handed to Gianna. I smile and finish gathering the mail from the box.

“Morning Y/N, how’s little Gianna?” A soft familiar voice emerged from behind me. I turn to see our landlord Celeste leaning against the mail box watching Gianna in amusement. “She’s great… My little bubble of energy,” She runs up to me and shows me the lollipop. “Look mommy! Hi Miss Cele” I bend down to pick her up and put her on my hip. “So Y/N rent was due yesterday.. Do you have it ready? Section 8 has been kicking my ass because I haven’t given them the money on time..” Celeste’s face spread with worry.

I let out a sigh and run my free hand through my hair, I was running low on money and I refuse to call my mother up and ask for money. “I don’t have it at the moment…I just had to pay this lawyer can you give me another week.. Please.” I pleaded. I was struggling and being a waiter wasn’t bringing in enough money…

Celeste studied me before smiling. “One week. I’ll give you one more alright. Otherwise we’ll have to terminate the lease,” I pull Celeste into a hug and thank her. “Bye Miss Cele” I put Gianna down and hold her hand as we walked down the street to the daycare.

Gianna took off running into the daycare building, her little legs wasn’t getting her too far as I kept up. “MISS SHANNON!” Gianna screamed as she ran and hugged onto shannon’s leg. I give her an apologetic look and lean against the counter, Gianna absolutely adored her and was always excited to come to daycare.

Shannon and I were friends since junior year ad she’s been there even after Gianna was born, she had my back even in the toughest times..

The little kids gathered on the carpet as Shannon started an episode of Sesame Street, She made her way over to show off her tutu. “I knew it’d make her happy so I went and bought one.” She smiled and hopped up on the counter. “Of course it would. Anything makes her happy..I love it” I played with my hair as I stared at Gianna’s back, she was playing and laughing along with the show.“So when do you have to go back to court?” I felt Shannon’s eyes burn into my skull as she awaited my response.

I sighed quietly, “Today..in an hour. I just paid for a lawyer but I doubt he’ll do me justice since he was a cheap one.” The judge ordered for Gianna’s father and I to be in court today to figure out who will gain custody of her. I used my last paycheck to get a lawyer but sadly the more money the better quality the lawyer is.

Shannon shook her head, “This is ridiculous. Adrian hasn’t been in Gianna’s life ever since she was born, why does he want her now?”

“I don’t know.. Did I tell you he tried to break into my apartment last week while we were sleeping?” I rub at my brow. Shannon gasped and cupped her mouth. “No way you’re lying… He’s crazy.” I pick at the leftover polish on my nails. Shannon never liked Adrian and had always expressed it with him around and behind his back.

Adrian and I met five years ago, I was still a waitress at Danny’s Diner. Every night he’d come in and order something and try his hardest to pull me in with his accent. Soon we were exchanging phone numbers and texting all night, he treated me like an absolute princess. After two years he insisted I moved in with him and start our lives…together.

But.. I learned my lesson, all fairytales come to an end. Mine came soon after a few missed periods and some trips to the bathroom with morning sickness. Everytime I went to sleep my dream sends me back to that night that I wanted to tell him..

My heart pounded as I approached the apartment. I don’t know how he’ll react or let alone if it’ll be good or bad, he said he wanted to start this together and I can only hope for the best.

I take a deep breath and unlock the door. “Hello? Baby I’m home.” The living room look like a storm ran through, pillows on the floor and the table slanted funny.

I froze as I got a whiff of some strong perfume, It wasn’t mine and I’ve never smelt it before either.. Is someone here?

A creaking noise emerged from our bedroom, I couldn’t stop myself as I headed back there. The closer I got more noise became clear, moaning and squeaking of the bed.

I peeked into the crack to see Adrian having sex with another woman. Everything felt like it went in slow motion. Why was he doing this.. What did I do wrong. Anger boiled inside me as I heard their moans.

I slam the door against the wall and stared straight at Adrian. The girl hopped off of him and tried to cover up, I can feel the tears sitting on my eye threatening to fall but I refused to let them come out.

“Who…the fuck…is she and why the fuck..are you having sex with her.” I tried to remain calm but anger filled my voice. He gave me a stupid look but couldn’t answer my fucking questions, I whip around quickly and storm out of the apartment.

The sounds of stumbling and tripping faded as I rushed down the stairs.

“Y/N!!”

“No! Fuck you and that bitch. Have a nice fucking life you bastard”

I didn’t want to be that person and keep him from his daughter but he refused to take my calls. I left him several messages regarding her but nothing so I decided to cut him off completely. The day that man came to my apartment and served me papers it felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest. The man who refused to answer any phone calls or text messages is trying to take my daughter, I thought it was a fucking joke until I actually walked into that courtroom and saw Adrian and his lawyer.

“Alright Shan.. I gotta start heading to the court house.” I push off the counter and walk to the door. Gianna smiled and whispered to me, “bye mommy.”

“Y/N, I forgot to tell you there’s this gym near my apartment you should come and stop by. The owner is really nice his name is Trent, he can help you release some stress” Shannon held a flyer out to me.

The smile threaten to spread as I tried to look disgusted, “I don’t have any “stress” alright. But I’ll check it out”

Shannon bounced on her heels excitedly, “Okay awesome. Go today I’ll keep an eye on Gigi until you get back.”

I shook my head and walked out towards the exit. I look down at the paper and smile, “British Strong Style huh…what a name” I shove the flyer into my pocket.

“Mr.Neville, before your daughter Gianna Marie was born is it true that Y/N was indeed trying to get in contact with you?”

Adrian mumbled a few words to his lawyer and shot a few dirty looks my way. I glanced over in his direction and rolled my eyes enough to see my brain.

“Your honor, my client –”

“I did not ask you. I asked Mr.Neville if he chooses not to answer then its up to him.”

Adrian lifted his hand and put on a charming smile, “Your honor she did actually but because of my hectic schedule I was unable to take any calls.”

The furrowed brow on the judge’s face indicated her reply was gonna shred Adrian to pieces. “If your schedule is so busy how do you expect to even care for your daughter?” Adrian played with his fingers behind his back, he only did this when he had to come up with something off the top of his head. “Well she would stay with the house keeper of course.. When I’m working that is.” The judge wasn’t impressed. Neither was I.

“Leaving your child with the housekeeper isn’t parenting. Mr. Neville, A child needs their parent not someone like it” The judge tapped her pen against the stand and looked down at me, “Y/N can I ask why you didn’t continue reaching out to him?”

I stood up and folded my arms. “Your honor, I tossed the bone for him but he refused to take it. I’m not going to continue wasting my time, even if I know he won’t help after this is settled. He comes in here trying to gain full custody like excuse my language but, Fuck that.” I shrugged off the glare the judge shot my way, I wasn’t going to bullshit her this was how I honestly felt. Adrian wasn’t taking my baby especially not after the stunt he pulled, this was unacceptable.

“You’re pathetic, Just accept whats best for our daughter.” Adrian snarled. My eyes widen, did this son of a bitch really just say that. “What’s best for our daughter? Where the hell were you the last three years huh? You didn’t even pick up my calls! When she’s sitting there asking me “Mommy do I have a daddy? Everyone at daycare has one” I have to figure out if I say I don’t know or that you’re just dead.“ I screamed as I tried to push past my lawyer, luckily he was holding me back otherwise I would’ve been caught up in another case.

"Order in the court!” The judge’s voice roared over us. I stopped and fixed my now messy hair, “I don’t care what’s going on with the both of you but you WILL come to an agreement in this court. By next month on the fifteenth I want you to have your minds made up, do you both understand?”

“Yes your honor” Adrian stood up and tossed his hands into his pockets. I couldn’t shake off the side eye he gave me as he walked out. This man was full of spite and nothing more, he cheats on me and doesn’t answer my calls for his daughter, I’m in the wrong clearly, makes absolutely no sense.

I looked up at the judge and nodded before leaving the room. This man..this evil fucking man wants my daughter. Its like he’s begging for war, well he’s got one. I won’t go back to being who I was and I won’t go back to being hurt.

As Gianna started to grow her features started to be more define, she had his eyes and her hair was definitely like his, I would sit up at night and cry until I couldn’t anymore. When she was able to walk and talk she would come into the bathroom and hug me and pat my head with her small hands.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Shannon’s number. I held the phone up to my ear as I walked out to the bus stop.

“You have to tell me everything” Shannon forced the words into one, I groaned loudly into the phone before starting up.

“He came into court demanding full fucking custody Shannon. Is he stupid or is he stupid? He has another thing coming if he thinks for a SECOND i’m giving him my daughter. He’s lucky if I even agree with visitation.” I watched as the bus slowly stopped in front of me and opens its doors.

“Wait..you can’t be serious.What did the judge say?”

“She rescheduled our final hearing on the fifteenth either we both agree on something or she’ll decide what’s best.” I sighed as I sat in the back and watched as the people loaded into the bus.

“I’m sure you’ll agree on something don’t worry…” Shannon soothed my nerves temporarily.

“I hope so”

“I’ll call you right back, gotta feed the kiddos. Keep your head up Y/N.” The sound of little kids flooded my ears before she ended the call.

I sink low in my seat as the bus began to move. Work was getting hectic and this court situation is only gonna make me rip my hair out, I can’t let this turn badly. I pull the paper out of my pocket and examine it closely, 6252 Donovan street… that’s just around this corner. The bus stopped at the light, I pulled the cord and stop in front of the door, I push it open and headed towards the corner. Straight ahead an old looking building sat next to a vacant parking lot.

The gym was packed with big men lifting weights and squatting, A large ring sat near the back next to a few punching bags that were lined up against the wall. I toss my hands in my pocket and walked over to a guy with some weights in his hands, he wasn’t as tall as everyone else but he was quite fit with a seemingly impressive mustache. “Excuse me?” I place my hand gently on his back, he pulled his ear bud out and held an innocent smile, “Hey what’s up?”

I couldn’t help but smile back his smile was so contagious, his voice was kind and gentle,“um where can I find the owner Trent Seven?”

The young man place the weights back on the ground, “I can bring you to him, he’s usually back here”

I trailed behind and followed him to the ring where two men were sparing. One was tall,bulky and had quite the beard, the other was also buff and held a mean look on his face but was undoubtedly handsome.

“Alright Peter you’ve worked me hard enough lets take five.” The taller man walked over to the rope, his face was soft as he smiled, but there was something intense behind the glint in his eyes.

“Trent, I have a nice lady with a pretty smile here for you.” The sweet guy motioned towards me and held tight on both ends of the towel that rested behind his neck.

“Thank you Tyler, now shoo shoo.” The guy named Trent rolled under the ropes and leaned against the ring post. Now that he was up close he had some how gotten more handsome. His mouth was moving but I was staring intently at his beautiful green eyes.

He snapped his fingers in my face which brought me back to reality thankfully.

“Oh um…sorry, my name is Y/N. My friend, Shannon told me to come here and check this place out.” I tried to hide my shaky tone but i’m sure he has picked up on it.

A light chuckle erupted from his chest as he folded his arms across his chest, “Shannon you say… I am quite surprise she isn’t here today usually Tyler and her use Monday’s to max out.”

“She said I should come and sign up” I couldn’t stop myself from playing with a little bit of my hair.

“Alright do you got some clothes we can get started right now” Trent pushed himself off post and started walking past me.

“I mean I have some spandex shorts on…if that works?” I glance at all the muscular men chatting and praising each other as they worked their muscles.

He turned his head slightly and smiled softly,“It works just fine. I have a T-shirt in my office you can borrow, it maybe too big so you can tie it at the bottom.”

I noticed Trent heading towards his office near the corner, I move past all the men to follow him. He held the door open for me as I slide into the tiny office.Posters and awards hung around the walls,above the window sat a belt that read:

ICW World Heavyweight Champion

“You must be top shit holding that belt I see.” I point slightly up towards the belt.Trent smiled and walked over to the set of lockers.“Of course I was, I like to believe genuine winners are the real champions."I lean in to examine some of the awards."If that’s true why aren’t you out there defending those words and that belt?"I stood up and turned back towards him. Trent shook out the tiny shirt and held it out to me,"There’s no point anymore,the company was closed and I was the last champion so who is there to defend it from?” He shrugged as I took the shirt from his hand. Trent headed towards the door and placed his hand on the knob before slightly turning to me.“Once you finish getting dressed I can figure out what we can start you off with.”

After five long hours passed by the gym was nearly empty, Trent and I were sitting the middle of ring practically drained. “What time is it?” I lie back and look over at Trent, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, “Its almost ten.” My eyes widen as I quickly roll under the ropes.

“Woah what’s wrong?” Trent rolled out on the other side as I rushed to the office. “I have to leave or else I’ll miss the bus!” I knew Shannon was okay with watching Gianna but I hate feeling like a burden. “Slow down I can drop you off don’t worry.” Trent placed a hand on my shoulder as I finish slipping my shirt on. I stop and look up into his eyes, I didn’t want to miss the bus but he is offering. “Okay…thank you.” I finally got dressed and waited outside the gym for Trent to finish locking up.

Trent fished his keys out his pocket and walked towards his black truck that sat in the vacant lot. He walked to the passenger side and opened the door for me.

“You’re quite the gentleman Trent.” I smirk at the gesture, entering the car.

“I gotta be when there’s a pretty lady around.” Trent chuckled as he shut the door and made his was to the driver side. “Alright where am I heading to Y/N.” He asked. “Can you drop me off at the daycare near Arcadia Ave?” I told him, buckling my seat belt. He started the truck and backed into the street heading towards the stop light.

I pull out my phone and dial Shannon’s number. “Shan? I’ll be there in five minutes or so.”

“Okay, I’ll have Gigi ready by the time you get here.” Shannon said ending the call.

“Picking up a niece or something?” Trent cleared his throat as he slowly turned the wheel. “My little girl actually.” I said. “Yeah? How old is she?” His voice filled with astonishment.

I turn to face him and let a smile creep up to my face. “She’s three, why are you so surprised? Do I not fit the motherly look?”

“No. You don’t, you look like someone who wouldn’t want to be bothered with kids.” Trent’s smile hid under his mustache.

I swat lightly at his arm. “That’s rude, I enjoy kids. I won’t say it’s easy taking care of Gianna but she’s bright so she took it easy on me.”

The truck stopped in front of the daycare where Shannon and Gianna stood waiting.

“Thank you Trent for the ride.” I unbuckle my seat belt and open the door to get out. “No problem, it was nice meeting you I hope to see you again.” Trent waved me off and flash a sweet smile.

“Mommy!”

I shut the door and walk over to Gianna. “Hey cupcake, were you being a good girl for Shannon?” I propped her onto the side of my hip. Gianna nodded and rested her head upon my shoulder. Shannon waved to the truck before it pulled off, “oh man oh man you got alot to tell me tomorrow.” She smirked as she turned to head to her car.

I laugh to myself as I walked down the street holding onto Gianna, I could tell she was going to sleep good tonight since she seems all played out. “Mommy?” She mumbled as she tucked her head in the crook of my neck. “Yes cupcake?” I paused at the light and waited for it to change.

“Can I see daddy?”

#millie imagines