#STILL SCREAMING ABOUT A TIN CAN DAD

[ohtobeleah]

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Two: [Chemo & Charisma]

Summary: Jake arrives in Rhode Island to accompany his three kids back to Houston Texas the next morning. He expects it to be slightly awkward, but something he doesn’t expect is to be cryptically seduced by you—his ex wife.

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of Cancer Diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Separation. Marriage issues. Mentions of death. Minor smut (18+)

Word Count: 4.6k

Author Note: Thank you for all the love and support around this series so far. It truly has been an awesome experience getting to create this storyline with you all. I'm excited to see how you all react as the chapters come out. Your concepts, theories and reactions are truly making my December that much better.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Turbulence…it can mean anything from a few little bumps to a catastrophic weather system that could knock your flying tin can right out of the air. In Surgery they call it a complication, the surgeons hit a snag, a bump in the road. Turbulence. 

In your marriage, you called it Separation. One of the most unpredictable things about encountering turbulence is its aftermath. Everything’s been shaken up, undone, turned on its head. So you ask yourself time and time again, if you had the choice to avoid the plane crash, the turbulence altogether, would you take it? Would you play it safe and cancel the flight? Or would you get onboard and take your chances. 

“Dad!” Little Lucy Seresin was just the spitting image of you and your grandmother. She was every bit you except for those big emerald green eyes. “Dad—!” You could see Jake making his way towards you and your three children through the crowd, all standing around your legs waiting for their father. The one who gave all three of your children those piercing emerald eyes that held what seemed like all the secrets in the universe. “Mum! Dads here! Dads here!” 

“I see him sweetheart, there’s daddy.” You replied to your six year old, who, before you even had a chance to stop the only daughter of Jake Seresin, took off running across the crowded airport welcoming area towards her dad. You knew it had been far too long since Jake had been able to see his children, but you also knew it wasn't entirely his fault. The Navy was unpredictable as it was reliable. 

“Hiya Lulu!” Jake smiled as wild as he could as he dropped to his knee to embrace the six year old human he’d helped create. “Oh I missed you sweetheart.” That much was true, Jake Seresin missed his kids every day that passed him by. You watched on with six year old Lennox by your side and two year old Samuel on your hip as Jake picked his daughter up and carried her back over to where you stood patiently waiting. “Lenny, how you going man?” Jake beamed as he tousled his eldest son's hair. “Far out kid, you shoot up any more and you’ll be taller than your mother.” You smiled at the dig unintentionally, before you knew you were smiling Jake had seen the corners of your lips turn upright into an unmissable smile. 

“Mums says I’m growing like an inch a day because I eat all my green beans at dinner.” Jake took a moment to place Lucy back on solid ground before he came up back up to meet your gaze. It had been a few weeks since you had called Jake about your Christmas plans. He still wasn’t sure how to feel about them, deep down he wanted to tell you not to go. Deep down he was screaming at the top of his lungs for you to give him another chance, to come with him and the kids to his mothers for Christmas. But Jake knew better than to make a scene in front of the kids. But that didn't mean he couldn't be petty when he wanted to be just to get a rise out of you. 

“Is that so?” Jake beamed that signature Seresin grin you’d fallen for back in college when he was captain of the football team and you were just that meek library dweller. He made you feel so much more than just the shy history buff you’d been back then, Jake Seresin had taught you a lot of things about yourself in the time you’d been his best friend and wife, now ex. Nowadays however you often caught yourself wondering if he’d miss you if you didn’t make it through the battle you were facing. The battle you hadn’t told anyone about except your mum. The battle that took all your strength to keep a secret close to your chest. The battle that was draining you or all your strength and energy. The battle that late at night you wish you could just end early. 

Stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma. Triple positive meaning that your specific cancer fed off oestrogen, progesterone and HER2 hormones. Lucky you right? Your first lumpectomy went rather well, but you were facing twelve weeks of chemotherapy treatment. Three oral tablets daily and two full days of IV sessions a week. 

However, you were taking measures into your own hands as of tomorrow and were scheduled to be back in hospital for double mastectomy. You didn't want to wait and see if the cancer would spread and wanted every single bit out. But Jake was none the wiser about your medical status and assumed that you were off to Canada with friends for a white Christmas in Banff Alberta. 

“Well—“ Jake carefully took little two year old Sammy from your grasp and placed his tied sleeping self on his own jean clad hip. “Mums are always right.” Jake quickly followed up as he looked down at Lenny. “There’s gonna be a ton of green beans at Grandma's house so you might overtake her quicker than anticipated buddy.” Jake gave the youngest of the three Seresin siblings a kiss on the cheek before he fully turned his attention to you. “Hey Hon—“ The way Jake stopped himself from finishing his sentence made your heart sink into the pit in your stomach. “Y/n, hey Y/n.” He corrected himself quickly as he picked up his duffel bag from the ground next to where he stood before you. “You look well.” 

Oh if only Jake truly knew what you had to do in order to look well. The countless hours you spent throwing your guts up in the middle of the night. The sleepless nights that turned into days. The loss of appetite that had you dropping weight faster than you could blink. Your diagnosis had been quick but your symptoms had been even quicker to take over your daily life.  You kicked yourself every day for not getting yourself to a doctor sooner. 

“Yeah, I’ve been doing alright—“ Things used to be so easy with Jake, now he was standing here before you in the middle of the airport bustling with people going to and from for the holiday season and you swore he looked like someone you didn’t even know. “The kiddos keep me busy, don’t you?” You asked Lucy as she reached out for your hand and looked at you like you were telling lies. 

“Mums been sick.” She told her father confidently, like you weren’t about to die then and there on the spot from embarrassment. Little Lucy had a bad habit of throwing you and Jake under the bus with one another. “She said it’s just a cold, but she’s been sick for like four whole weeks.” Lucy didn’t know any better than what you had always told her, that you had the flu. A long flu at that. As soon as you’d get the kids off to school you’d head right back to bed and sleep. The medication your doctors had you on was pretty brutal, and chemotherapy didn’t help although you’d only just started that kind of oral treatment. It packed a punch you couldn't handle.

“Oh?” Jake frowned as the five of you all made your way through the airport and out towards the car park. “Mum didn’t tell me she was sick, if I had known I would have come sooner.” Jake looked at you like he was trying to read the lines on your face. He could tell you were tied, more than normal—but despite that knowledge he’d never say it out loud. His grandmother would roll over in her damn grave if Jake ever dared to point out a woman’s under eye bags or her tired expression. So he went with ‘well’. 

“That’s why I didn’t tell you.” You didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh, but you knew by the hurt look on Jake’s face that it had struck an exposed nerve. He never wanted to separate. “What I meant was, I’m fine, Lulu here sees a runny nose and thinks it’s the end of days, I would have called you if I needed help.” 

“Fair, I mean—you can’t be that sick right? With your big trip to Banff planned and all.” Jake shrugged it off like his heart wasn’t breaking inside his chest. This was about to be his first Christmas separated from the women he loved more than life itself. Being in North Island made it easier to run from his problems, but the minute he got on that flight he was back inside his own head, rewinding and rethinking everything he ever did wrong to drive you away. 

“Right—“ You agreed softly beside the man you loved so deeply that it burned. “Yeah, I’m just so thankful you were so happy to take the kids with you to your mothers house this year.” To be perfectly honest you were expecting Jake to push back, ask more questions, be a little standoffish on the idea of you not being there for the kids on Christmas. But he never did, and you didn’t know what hurt more. 

“They’re my kids as much as they’re yours—kinda think it’s the least I can do considering you’ve had them all year round.” It was the tone you didn’t appreciate, the almost passive aggressive attitude that made you frown as you walked with Jake and your kids back to your car. 

“You can see the kids anytime you like.” You tried to keep your head level, but the way Jake had said it made you question his motives. “I’d never stop you, if you wanna have them more often I’m sure we can—“ 

“Wasn’t that a big part of the reason you wanted to separate?” Jake interrupted before you had a chance to finish what you were saying. You were about to say perhaps you could come up with a custody agreement. Something on paper that seemed fair to the both of you that took your work schedules into consideration as well as your living conditions, the kids schooling, holidays and extended family. You were happy to discuss it more, but this year that had passed the both of you by had gone in the blink of an eye. “You were stuck with the kids too much? Seems a little counter intuitive considering you’ve become their primary caregiver.” 

“Jake—“ You sighed with a longing he’d missed. “Not in front of the kids, alright?” You were trying your best, truly. But here he was in all his glory, the love of your life and father of your children, telling you that you made a mistake just in a different kind of font. “We can talk about it all when we get home.” 

“I’m not doing anything in front of the kids—“ Jake shrugged as he watched you unlock the car. “I’m just trying to understand why you can’t just admit why you really left.” Jake knew why you left, because of him. He knew he hadn’t done enough in your marriage to show you how much he loved you. He just wanted to hear you say it. That you didn’t love him anymore. He wanted you to tell him point blank that you had fallen out of love with him.

But you could never say that, because you never stopped loving him. 

“You know why—“ You had to bite the inside of your cheek and grit your teeth to stop yourself from yelling, Jake Seresin after all these years still managed to get under your skin with ease. “Again, not in front of the kids, let’s just get home.” 

“You seem frustrated.” Jake teased with that award winning grin, he knew exactly what he was doing. You always took the bait. 

“Yeah, you’ve been here for five minutes and I’m already over it.” If you had rolled your eyes any harder than you did you would have fallen over. 

“Little harsh—“ Jake chuckled as he placed Sammy into his booster seat, the little buckles that used to give him a hard time when the twins were younger were seamlessly clipped up in seconds. Jake made sure his youngest was safe and secure before he stood and turned his full undivided attention back to you. “I’ve missed you.” He said genuinely with a love so strong inside his heart you could nearly feel the warmth as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and drew you in for a hug. “It’s good to see you, even if it’s just for one night before you go jet setting.” 

With little hesitation you melted into the man you had married all those years ago with ease. Jake was your home, your guiding light. This past year had been rough without him and you knew deep down it had been rough for him too. 

But sometimes love just wasn’t enough to save a marriage. 

“Yeah—yeah it’s good to see you.” Jake felt your arms wrap around his torso as you let your cheek rest on his shoulder. “I’ve missed you too.” Jake’s scent had alway brought comfort to you, the overwhelming warmth of cedarwood and notes of vanilla bourbon always calmed you, grounded you in reality. “I’m uh—“ You wanted to tell him the truth about what was going on, but you just couldn’t do that to him. You couldn’t ask that much of him. Not after everything you’d both been through over the last year. “I’m just happy you’re here for the kids.” 

“Mum! Lennox won’t let me have the window seat!” 

“I’m older than you!” Lennox argued back as Jake groaned into your neck. Oh how he’d missed you, missed the kids, missed his family. North Island was great but without the four of you? Something was always missing. A piece of Jake was always missing. 

“I’m not just here for the kids.” Jake pulled away at the sound of Lenny and Lucy arguing in the back seat over who was taking the middle seat. “But they’re a bonus, Honey.” He winked as he switched into dad mode and dropped his voice an octave or two. “Stop arguing, I’ll flip a coin.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“Oh woah—“ Jake's eyes lit up as he walked through the front door of the home you’d recently finished moving into. He’d only ever seen it over FaceTime. “It’s bigger than it looked.” The little giggle you let out as you passed him by didn’t go unnoticed. Dirty bird, Jake thought to himself as his eyes lingered down to your ass as you walked ahead of him. 

“It’s enough for me and the kids with a spare room.” You replied as Jake continued to look around. Reminisce of cardboard boxes used in your move still remained scattered around the place. “The kids still wanted to put up the Christmas tree even though they aren’t gonna be here.” 

“Mama said Santa will know that we’re spending it with Grandma and Grandpa and will take all our presents there.” Lucy caught Jake's attention as she barreled into the living room where the Christmas tree stood tall and proud, decorated with mismatched decorations that you and Jake had collected over the years either from stores or the kids' school crafts. “She also said I could give this to you when you came to stay the night.” Lucy explained as she dropped to her knees and reached under the tree to where a perfectly wrapped gift labelled with Jake's name on it sat. “It’s from mum.” 

“Lucy May—“ You nearly hissed as you padded into the living room. “Don’t tell lie’s please.” You pointed, the deal had been you’d get Jake one present and one present only knowing he probably wouldn’t have gotten you anything, and that you’d tell him it was from the kids until he opened it. “You tell your dad who it’s from.” Jake knew by the smirk that crept across his daughter’s face he recognised as his own, that it was from you. Lucy didn’t have to say another word. But she did regardless. 

“It’s from me and Lenny.” She replied as Jake sat on the couch he used to sleep on during those nights the two of you couldn’t sleep in the same bed. Those nights where the two of you needed space and those nights where he thought he was doing the right thing by you and giving it to you. He sat on the couch that felt unfamiliar now and took the present his daughter gave him with grace. “Lenny! Dad’s opening our present!” 

“What present?” Lennox frowned as he walked into the living room trying to carry two year old Sam. “Oh! Mums present.” 

“Lennox!” You groaned aloud in utter defeat. 

All Jake could do was laugh to himself as he looked over at you. You were as beautiful as ever, his one and only love. How the fuck did things get so messy where you had to use your children as scapegoats. 

“It’s fine, it’s fine—I know it’s from the kids Honey.” Jake winked as you rolled your eyes and headed on into the kitchen where you were getting organised to cook dinner. You were starting to feel awfully tired–the oral chemotherapy was starting to make you feel sicker than you had been before you knew what was going on. A double edged sword really, you keep taking the pills? You get so sick you die. You stop taking the chemotherapy tablets? You get so sick you die. Either way you were dying or you convinced yourself you were. 

But Jake could never know that, your kids could never know that, so you went about your routine as normally as you could without making a fuss. 

“I might save this for when we get to Grandmas, I wouldn't wanna not have anything to open on Christmas morning Lulu.” Jake smiled as he brought her in for a hug between his legs. “I love you all so much.” 

“We love you too dad.” Lucy replied as she hugged Jake back. “Mum loves you too.” 

“Oh does she now?” Jake knew that putting all his faith in a six year old probably wasn't the best thing he could do, but right now as he held her in his arms, the little girl the two of you had created–he did. He trusted her to tell the truth you wouldn't, because you wouldn't lie and tell him you didn't love him either. “Guess I'll just have to take your word for it then, won't I?” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Jake Seresin had always been a good dad, you had never questioned him on his ability to go above and beyond for his children. That was something you never had to worry about. As you plated up dinner, the laughter of your three children coming from the living room made you smile to yourself. They were loved so fiercely. 

“Alright, let's get ready for dinner, yeah? Mums been cooking up a storm in here.” Jake rounded the corner with Sam hand in hand. “Smells so damn good in here.” You again smiled to yourself as Jake can to stand beside you at the kitchen counter, watching as you scooped some pasta bake onto five plates. 

“When's the last time you had a home cooked meal?” It was a simple question but Jake really had to think about it for a moment as he reached over to steal a cucumber slice from the chopped salad.

“Does food from the bar count?” He asked with a half cocked smile, knowing full well that Penny's burgers and fries wouldn’t be considered home cooked in your opinion. 

“No–” You grinned as Jake leaned in from behind you, trapping you between him and the counter with both arms encompassing you. “No, when's the last time it was a home cooked meal?” Jake didn't reply right away, he simply inhaled your scent slowly from behind you and took in the comforting scent of elderberry and juniper. He missed that all encompassing feeling, that safe and warming feeling of your presence. 

“Uh—probably the last time you cooked for me.” Jake noticed the moment you paused at his words, the revelation that you were having. “And it was probably pasta bake, with salad and pork chops, like what we’re having right now.” 

“It’s always your favourite—“ It was clear from the very beginning that both you and Jake were getting caught in the moment. But as his hands slowly make their way from the counter top to hips, you know you were too far gone to press the pause button. “Jacob—“ 

“I'm a simple man.” Jake cooed as he brought one of his hands up to move your hair from one side of your neck. “Lucy tells me you love me.” 

“She’s got a pretty wild imagination that daughter of ours.” You teased as Jake pressed his lips against your neck in a sweet gesture of gratitude for the woman who gave him three beautiful children. “You need to stop—“ You sighed into Jake's warm embrace as he pulled away and let his chin fall to your shoulder. “I don’t know where or what you've been in recently.” 

“I think she said her name was Vanessa.” Jake taunted as he held you tightly from behind. He felt you tense in his embrace at the very idea he’d been with someone other than you. But you couldn’t hold it against him, not now, the pair of you were separated. You held no claim on the man you had left in favour of putting yourself first. 

But that didn’t mean it still didn’t hurt. 

“Vanessa a name I should remember?” You asked with a little attitude in your tone Jake caught immediately. He couldn’t help but to smirk at the idea you were a little jealous of his very infrequent conquests. He loved you to the end of the world but this was such a frustrating situation to be in. What was a guy supposed to do? Be celebate in hopes his wife came running back? 

“Nope—“ Jake reassured you with another kiss to the neck. “I’m not ready to let you go, I thought maybe I could if I just leaned into the whole thing, whatever it is that we’re doing, but I’m just not ready to let you go.” 

“Have you?” Jake had to clear his throat when he asked. “Been with anyone, that is?” 

“Do you think between work, raising three kids with your DNA and missing you that I’d have time to get laid?” You knew what Jake would latch onto, the part where you said you missed him. You saw the light in his eye as you turned in his embrace to face him with a mischievous smile plastered across your face. 

“You miss me?” Yes. Yes you did. With all your might you missed him everyday and every night. But it didn’t change what the two of you became. 

“Don’t try your luck—“ You argued, shrugging Jake's query off like the answer was obvious. To him it was, you did miss him. Other sailors tend to recognise other sailors on the sea and Jake missed you tenfold. 

“Oh I’m feeling like the luckiest guy in the whole world right now.” You could feel Jake pressing himself against you, silently but not so subtly telling you exactly what this whole encounter was doing to him. 

“Really? Is that so?” You asked like you weren’t aware of the rock hard erection pressing against your pelvis. Jake just pressed his lips together in an attempt to hold off the crimson red from creeping up his neck and cheeks. But he wasn’t backing down from a challenge, especially when you were leaving all the right doors unlocked for him to walk right through. 

“So lucky that I couldn’t help but to notice the spare bed hasn’t even been made up?” 

“Oh so you assumed I’d be your personal chef and the maid tonight?” You countered as you looked around for your three small children, not wanting to expose them to such x-rated content before you slowly but surely sunk your hand into the sweatpants Jake had recently changed into. Damn those grey sweats and damn Jake for going commando. “You are perfectly capable of making your own bed.” 

The way your palm wrapped around his length sent sparks through Jake's body like nothing he’d ever felt before. Your touch was so beautiful and elegant, like you knew exactly what he needed and where he wanted it. 

“Or I could just sleep in yours, with you.” Jake nearly begged as your fist slid up and down his hardened length, feeling him twitch under your control. “Honey—“ He nearly moaned as he fell forward into you, letting his forehead rest against yours. “You’re killing me here.” 

“What don’t you get about the fact we’re separated?” You asked almost teasingly like you weren’t pumping him slowly as dinner cooled on the counter behind you while your kids played in the living room. 

“For as long as you have my last name, you’re my wife, end of story.” Butterflies, that’s how you’d describe the feeling inside you when Jake, your somewhat ex husband, told you you were still his. You never wanted to not be his, but you were sure that Vanessa maybe wondered if she’d ever be his too. 

“Oh you are so full of yourself.” You slowly but surely pulled your hand out from Jake’s sweats and watched him nearly deflate at the loss of sensation, but he never missed a beat, Jake was quick like that, he always had been. 

“You could be full of me too if you just let your guard down a little.” 

“Jake!!” You slapped his chest firmly as your kids all rushed in at the smell of food. 

“I’ll take my stuff upstairs shall I?” He grinned ear to ear, knowing by the way your jaw remained on the ground he had you hook, line and sinker. 

“Yeah, you can, to the spare room you idiot.” You watched as Jake fixed himself up and headed in the direction of the stairs. You were still so in love with this man. 

“Lenny! Where’s your mothers room?” Jake turned to your eldest son who always knew that the two of you were going to make it through whatever this rough patch was. He had friends who had divorced parents, and even at the young age of six, Lennox knew his parents didn’t hate each other. 

“Upstairs to the left, it’s the messy one.” You gave your son the stink eye as he beamed up at you. 

“Perfect.” Jake chuckled and sent you a wink. “I’ll be right back.” He was getting laid tonight and you both knew it. 

“I’m—“ You hardly had the energy to keep your whole hard to get act up, so with a sigh, you let your guard down for the man who held your heart in the palm of his hands. “You’re unbelievably.” 

“I’ve been told by the youth on base it’s called Rizz now.” Jake yelled back as he jogged up the wooden stairs, you could just barely hear him as his voice faded the higher he climbed. But nevertheless, you still heard him. 

“Well I can’t wait to get both you and your ‘rizz’ out of my house!” You shouted back, Lenny just laughed as he watched his Dad pull a funny face at your words from the top of the stairs. 

“You don’t mean that.” He smiled up at you. “You and dad love each other.” It made your heart skip a beat, but you had to remember that you were playing a dangerous game here. Letting Jake in now would only break his heart more. You had to do what was best for you, and that was to remain separate. At least while you were fighting for your life. 

“Maybe, but he’s still a pain in my ass Lenny.” 

***~****~****~***~***~***

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#was it over? // jake seresin #tw: breast cancer #tw: cancer #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman fic

[spectres-n-soap]

To Live is to Love. To Grieve is to Love - Soap x You x Ghost

Content Warnings - afab reader, fem reader, depression symptoms, angst as always with some bittersweet comfort at the end. MW3 spoilers and MW3 is canon

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Main Masterlist

Simon keeps looking at you, he can’t help it. You’ve barely spoken a word, only looked at him with empty eyes. Simon knows you hate hospitals, you fidget and are ridged the entire time. “Hopefully we’ll be out by tonight.” Simon says, trying to spark a conversation. Hell, he’d take you screaming at him again instead of this. 

You shrug and put a hand over your stomach. It's the only movement you’ve been doing. Constantly checking on the baby, watching with a hawks gaze whenever the ultrasound machine wheels in. “They’re looking healthy.” The nurse declares. Simon stares at the ultrasound, the heartbeat of the baby regular and healthy is the only sound that fills the room. Simon takes in the image, the baby is sucking their thumb and he can see their feet. 

He pulls the nurse to the side and asks for a few pictures from the ultrasound. She smiles and nods, “Sure Dad.” His breath catches in his throat at the name. He tries not to think about you holding a baby with your hair and his eyes.

The doctor comes in later with a few pages of paperwork to release you from the hospital into his care. You stare at the dotted line and he waits, his stomach twisting itself into knots until you blink and write your name down. The doctor goes over a few rules that need to be followed but his eyes aren’t on the doctor, they’re on you. Watching for any hint of your spitfire personality when the doctor says that you shouldn’t be bending over or do much of anything due to the position of the baby. You nod and Simon hands you an outfit he had grabbed from your apartment.

Simon helps you into his truck and the drive is silent. Suffocatingly silent. He never minded silence until now, you didn’t turn on the radio and just looked out the window. “Are you hungry?” He asks and nearly slams his head into his steering wheel when you shrug. 

The flat is a mess. The door had been replaced; one of the things he had time to do while you slept in the hospital. The sage green and soft yellow decorations still littered the flat, the bags of gifts still on and surrounding the table. You walk through the flat and into your room, softly shutting it behind you. Simon lets out a sigh when he doesn’t hear it lock. He stands in the dim flat as his mind fills with worries.

Simon’s gaze flickers to your bedroom door, she’s hurting, check on her, let her have some space, what if it happens again, he’s standing in front of the door now. He doesn’t remember taking the long strides to get to this point. His hand hovers over the doorknob for just a second before turning on his heel and plopping his ass down on the couch, burying his head in his hands.

“Do ye think ye wid ever settle down?” Soap asked, his voice echoing in the one room safehouse. Ghost stayed quiet and hoped that Soap would just wear himself out with all his talkin’. Normally, Ghost didn’t mind Soap’s conversation but laying on the floor in the bum fuck of no where with a minimum of two days until someone can extract them; he’d rather rip his ears off. “I’d lik' tae one day, have a guidwife 'n' a bairn. Hell, as many as ah kin carry at once. What about you?”

“Never.” Ghost’s answer was short and gruff as he stared up at the tin ceiling. He wasn’t lying, never saw that kind of life for himself even before Roba. He was an uncle, he was happy with that. Ghost was happy with that life but that life was gone now.

“Never? Well if ah ever settle doon 'n' git that life, I’ll just force ye tae come wi' me. Can’t be a soldier forever.” Soap teased.

“Go to sleep sergeant.”

“Yes sir.”

Rain patters against the windows of the quiet flat. Simon finds himself standing in front of your bedroom door again. Truthfully, he hadn’t slept a wink and just languished in his memories. You should have done more. You could have saved him. Should have just let Johnny shoot that fucker. Simon slowly turns the knob and opens the door. You’re laying uncovered on your bed, soft snores leaving your mouth as you hold your pregnancy pillow close. Simon sinks down to his knees and brushes a few stray hairs from your face. His nerves settle if only just. You shift in your sleep, eyes blinking open with the haze of sleep clouding your mind.

“Simon?” You mutter, reaching a hand out for him. He glances between your face and your outstretched hand. A small whine escapes your throat and Simon holds your hand, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles while a pleased hum comes from you.

“I’m right here.” Simon mutters as your eyelids flutter closed. “I’ll be right here for as long as you need me.” He sits down on the floor and leans his head against the mattress.

In the morning he’s woken by your movement. “Why are you here?” You ask, voice thick with disuse.

“You wanted me here.” Simon replies, stretching his long limbs from spending the night on the floor. You glare at him but there's something missing. Probably actual anger or annoyance. “Are you hungry?”

Silence takes over the room before you sigh, “Yeah. I’m hungry.”

“Johnny?”

“Yeah lass?”

“Don’t leave me.” You whispered, holding him close to your naked form. “Be careful.”

Soap smiled down at you as he pushed some hair from your face before he brought you up to kiss him. “I wid ne'er even dream o' goin away. I’ll be back again 'n' again.”  You make a noise of protest when he tries to pull away.

“I don’t think you’ve kissed me enough.” You mumbled against his lips with a fake pout.

“Guess I’ll just hae tae keep kissin’ ye. How terrible.” His chest rumbled with laughter before he brought you in for another longer kiss. His hands grip your hips and bring you close. “I'll kiss ye everyday if you’ll let me.”

“Even when you’re away?”

“Just keep an eye oot fur mah kisses in th' wind.”

tag list - @pepsicolacoochie @http-paprika @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @snoopyee

#john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #soap #call of duty #cod #ghost x reader #mw3 spoilers #simon ghost riley #thyh #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x soap x reader #ghost x you #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #soap x reader #soap mw3 #ghost mw3 #soap x you #soap x y/n #johnny soap mctavish x you #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #cod mw3

[curiositydooropened]

Christmas Eve

Some soft holiday moments with family.

This fic runs in the same Universe as My Whole Life, Too and Better Off

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Wordcount: 1393

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, Steve is baby crazy, no plot to speak of, Merry Christmas, everyone! xoxo

Navigation • Masterlist

---

The house smelled warm, like the logs burning in the stove and the caramel melted into cocoa and cognac. You felt warm too, that heat that licked at your throat and itched the collar of your pale pink sweater, but not an unkind warmth. You were full, a handmade meal well-earned and welcomed, with spiced wassail and topped with all of the pie and cookies you’d spent the week painstakingly preparing. 

Dad left after dessert and before the liquor cabinet had been opened and the cocktails had been poured. He bid you adieu with a kiss to your temple, and you tucked a paper bag full of tin foiled leftovers into his hand. You’d bring him more in the morning.

Argyle was called an hour into drinks. He was on his way to Mass, and you all laughed as the kids screamed and argued to say hello first. 

Nancy was first to crash. Her sweet little face, normally wound in some form of tension or another, was soft and smiling as she tucked herself into your warm throw pillows. Her hands were draped in her lap, a lavender baby blanket slung over one shoulder, just in case. As soon as Robin noticed, you’d all hushed your giggles and tiptoed back to the kitchen to make cocoa and steal from the cookie tins. 

Nancy needn’t worry about her baby though, because Bea hadn’t left Steve’s arms since the little family of three walked over your threshold. Your fiancé (the term gave you butterflies even now, months later) carted the little angel all over your cottage, her soft cheek pressed to the breadth of his chest. He did let Nancy feed her twice, and he gave the other guests five minutes each with her before promptly taking her back. 

You’d handed her over at three and a half minutes, unable to contain the tingling warmth that spread through you at the glossy sheen over Steve’s eyes to see you holding the little bundle of joy.

Jonathan didn’t seem to mind the possessiveness over his daughter, dark circles and loopy smile indicative of two months with a needy newborn and her stubborn mother. He seemed more than grateful for the break and for the Scotch you’d slipped between his fingers as you leaned on his shoulders and breathed in the smell of city on your best friend.

Robin crashed second, still jet-lagged, back from France. She fell asleep on the kitchen counter, arms tucked beneath her, butt straight in the air. You and Jonathan carried her, through protestations, down the hall to the guest room, and before you left, she grasped your wrist and told you, blearily, how much she loves you, in French.

Jonathan and Nancy left soon after. He’d lifted her gently from the couch with soft mutters and kisses. She roused and the wrinkle creased between her brow again as she forced Steve to unhand her little baby, stirring up a mess of cries and hiccups as Bea was strapped into her carseat. The three of them left with hugs and plans for New Years. 

They backed down the driveway, and you waved, your breath fogging under soft porch light. 

“C’mere, you,” Steve grumbled, tucking you into his chest. 

“You smell like another girl,” you chuckled, accepting the dip of his lips to capture yours in a kiss. 

He groaned, nuzzling your nose with his, and sighed. “What if we tell them they forgot something so they have to bring her back?” 

You snorted and swatted at his chest. “You can wait one week to get your baby fix.” 

“I wouldn’t have to wait a week if…” He growled into your ear, hands pulling your waist close, one broad palm grabbing at your ass. 

You yelped and shoved him away, running back into the warmth of your little cottage.

You could hear the weight of him behind you, the familiar thrill of a chase catching in your chest, and you cackled and squirmed as his hands caught you and pulled you off your feet to spin around. 

“Come on,” he smiled, tossing you onto the couch, still warm from Nancy’s rest. 

You tried to catch your breath, but he knelt at your feet and wedged himself between your legs. 

“I saw the way you were looking at me.” He leaned in to press a wet kiss to the shell of your throat.

“I saw the way you were looking at me,” you argued, grabbing the collar of his shirt beneath his sweater. You weren’t sure if you wanted to hold him at bay or pull him closer. “Besides, you don’t love the kids we have.”

“They’re all grown,” he argued, warm fingers finding their way up your sweater along your ribcage.

“Jesus Christ, you two,” the clear of a throat startled the two of you apart, and you warmed at the sight of Eddie smirking in the threshold. “I was talking to Wayne for what? Fifteen minutes?”

“How was Wayne?” You adjusted your sweater and pulled yourself upright. 

Steve, still on his knees, trailed his fingertips up the inside of your thigh, tracing a ladder in your tights, and you returned his smirk with a warning look before you stepped around him to start clearing mugs and saucers from the coffee table. 

“Wayne’s good. He’s got a friend from the plant who invited him for Christmas dinner tomorrow, so he won’t be alone. His name’s Dale.” Eddie explained, crossing to help you clean up. He held a hand out for Steve, and the other man took it, and the two rough-housed for a moment until Steve ended up beneath his former roommate’s arm in a headlock. 

You rolled your eyes. “I hope for Wayne’s sake, Dale doesn’t have any kids. Your uncle deserves a holiday off.” 

The two men protested your claims, but you couldn’t hear them as you swung back into the kitchen to dump your haul carefully into a surprisingly empty sink. You glanced sideways at the dishwasher to find it full from your dinner, and you tutted as you rinsed the caramel from the bottom of mugs and tipped them upside down onto the top rack.

“Eddie, did you do the dishes?”

“Can’t sit still when I’m on the phone,” he grinned, beating Steve to the tile. 

“Kiss ass,” Steve flicked his forehead.

“Steve,” you failed to suppress a yawn, the sleeves of your sweater slumping back down your forearms, and you felt a soft pair of lips to your forehead. 

“Yes, dear?” 

“Make Eddie’s bed up for me?” 

“Yes, dear. Come on, dickhead.” Steve smacked Eddie’s chest, and the two of them trailed back to the living room to pull the couch out into a functioning bed for your second houseguest. 

You made about consolidating cookies into one tin and sweeping crumbs from the countertop and floors, warmth from the house bringing the heaviness of exhaustion to your shoulders, your eyelids. 

You smiled as you thought of your friends, the little family you’d grown over the years, those of you that came together to celebrate and cheers and regale your months apart. You thought of Bea, of her sweet little face squished into your fiancé’s chest, the spitting image of her father, and this amazing support system she’s going to grow up into. That thought sprung a well of emotion to your eyes. 

“You okay?” Steve toed into sight, worry creased on his brow. 

You nodded and sniffled, burying your face into the warmth of his chest.

His hands trailed up and down your spine, warm, welcome. “You know you’re enough, right?” 

You hummed into his chest and pulled your face away to catch the glint of gold in his eyes. 

“All of this,” he gestured around to the little kitchen. “Our friends, their babies, your dad. I don’t need anything else to be happy. Christmas came early for me.” He flashed a grin, and you noticed the Scotch on his breath, the loopy smile, the slow sway of both of you on your feet. 

“Alright, you two! I’m putting earplugs in now!” Eddie called from the living room. “Goodnight. I love you. Don’t make a mess!” 

You snorted, and yelped again as Steve hauled you over one shoulder and stumbled out of the kitchen and down the hall to your bedroom, flicking off the lights as he went. 

---

[A/N: Just got the urge, you know? Can't stop imagining Steve with a little baby pressed to his chest. I'm in love, damnit. In love. Thank you all for a magical year. Looking forward to posting chapter one of Late Checkout soon. But until then, happy holidays! xoxo]

#steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #better off fic #stranger things fic #steve harrington x reader

[golden-barnes]

Father's day betrayal

Summary: Having a summer barbecue the day before Father's day at Steve's house is nothing new. But things get messy when Bucky's 4-year-old innocently mistakes Sam for Bucky. How will Bucky ever cope with this betrayal? wc: 1.1k Warning: this is just fluff, a bit of fighting with Sam and Bucky because they are little shits. A/N: Based on my little brother doing the same thing because a man had the same pants and shoes as our dad and he couldn't be asked to look up. Something cute for father's day based on my real life. But super sorry for how short and shitty it is.. it's been a while since I've written anything other than and they're roomates.

Bucky loved his little family. His adorable son, who much to your dismay is Bucky’s twin, and his beautiful wife who loves him very much. He finally felt happy. Happiness that he deserved.

This year, Steve held a father’s day eve barbecue, hanging out with all his friends on this warm summer Saturday afternoon. Bucky saw his wife talking to Sarah, laughing while drinking some refreshing lemonade.

His son, who just turned 4, was having a blast playing with Sam’s nephews. They were running around trying not to get touched by the sprinklers Steve set up for the kids to play with. They were giggling and laughing. AJ and Cass were like big brothers to little Theo and god did they love to cause mischief together.

Bucky is observant. It’s a given when you used to be an assassin. But what he didn’t notice was the fact that he and Sam had the same pants and shoes. Which you and Sarah noticed. 

Both dummies decided to wear the same beige pants and black sneakers. On this hot summer day, even Steve, Mister prime and proper, was wearing shorts but Bucky and Sam? Nah they just had to wear pants. You and Sarah were laughing at how similar they are, and if you told them, they would have a fit.

Your son, Theo, knew what his dad was wearing. He laughed at his mom’s jokes that morning about his dad’s clothes. So when he ran to what he presumed were his dad’s legs. Happily hopping to tell his dad about a thing AJ said. He grabbed “his dad’s legs” and mushed his face in it. It was something he was used to and his dad using his super strength and agility would lift his leg.

“Daaaaddddyyyy!” Theo screamed, trying to get who he thought was his dad to do the “cool” leg trick. You noticed your son’s scream and couldn't help but laugh. Theo detached his face from the leg and looked up, just to see his uncle Sam looking down at him, smiling. Theo’s eyes widened and Sam just chuckled. He picked up the kid and swung him around.

But you knew better. Sam was about to turn this peaceful summer barbecue into a war. Just because he loved pushing Bucky’s buttons.

“Awwww little man! Hear that tin man! Your son called me dad!” Sam yelled, still holding on to your son. In fact, almost cradling Theo as if he was about to steal him. Bucky turned around to see Sam’s smug face. 

Sarah and you stood up and walked ever to the boys. 

“Theo, what did you call me?” Theo looked sheepishly at his dad. Sam couldn’t help it. It was like a perfectly wrapped present left on his porch.

“Daddy.” Theo mumbled, Steve was trying hard not to laugh, seeing Bucky’s forehead vein popping. 

“Aww! He’s so cute. Little man wants me to adopt him.” Sam jokes, making Steve laugh because Bucky was seething.

“That isn’t what he said.” Bucky argued. Getting worked up, especially with how comfortable Theo was looking in Sam’s arms.

“He basically implied it. Sarah, you gotta open up a room at the house for our new little guy.” Sam says towards his sister who was cackling at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Sam, give me my son.” Bucky glared at the man. Sam turned away from Bucky.

“No, and I think you mean my son.” That broke you. The face of betrayal Bucky had the minute you started laughing. Theo started to laugh too, ignoring his dad’s pouty face. 

“Hell, Y/N, you can have a place at my house too.” Sam winked at you, Bucky looked exasperated. 

“That’s it! Give me my son and stop flirting with my wife.” Bucky definitely growled that. To anyone else, that would’ve been scary but for Sam? Oh, that was fucking hilarious. The man just started to laugh, which just annoyed bucky even more.

“Well, wouldn’t I be Sam’s wife if he was Theo’s dad?” You joked, Bucky’s eyes almost popped out of his skull. 

“Et tu, doll?” Bucky whispered at you. Which made everyone laugh, except Theo who was confused about why people were laughing at his dad. He shimmied his way out of Sam’s arms and ran to Bucky, who hugged him really hard and turned away from everyone. You rolled your eyes, already knowing he was gonna be extra when you guys got home.

The entire party went by normally, except for the pouty Bucky who refused to look at his wife and his son. Two little traitors.

Even though Bucky was stronger and more sure of himself, there was still that little bit of insecurity left. Was he a good dad? Would you be happier with Sam? Nah. Bucky shook his head as if he was trying to shake the insecurities out of his head. 

On the way home, Bucky remained silent. What he didn’t know was that you and Theo had the perfect father’s day planned. Maybe today he didn’t appreciate the jokes made today but tomorrow was a new day.

Did Bucky go to sleep pouting? Maybe, he is still a bit salty about the little jokes you made with Sam. You and Theo were his. H-I-S. Was he being petty? Obviously, which was a normal state for Bucky.

Bucky felt something climbing up his bed.

“Wake up Daddy!” Theo yelled and started jumping up and down. You laughed at your son’s attempt to wake up his dad. As if it was gonna be difficult, Bucky is a light sleeper. 

“Happy father’s day, honey!” You said. Bucky faked yawning and grabbed the jumping Theo and smothered him with kisses. 

 “Happy father’s day, daddy!” Theo said in between his giggles. 

You placed on the bed a table with a full spread. Everything Bucky liked for breakfast and more because Bucky loved eating breakfast with his family. 

“Here you go, daddy.” Theo handed him a paper, with a drawing of your little family. Including Alpine who was a bit annoyed because of Theo’s yelling. 

“Oh bud, this is great! Better than Picasso. Look Y/N, our kid is a prodigy.” Bucky exclaims, showing you Theo’s drawings. Bucky sat the drawing down and hugged Theo.

“Love you, daddy. You the bestest daddy in the world!” Theo exclaimed.

“He really is.” You kissed Bucky’s forehead. 

“Even better than Sam?” Bucky asks, which just made you roll your eyes. Of course, he was gonna bring that up.

“Way better than Sam.” Bucky smiled at your statement. 

“That’s what I thought.” He replied, cocky as he could be. Theo was sneaky and tried to eat the slices of plums that were in front of him. You and Bucky caught him and started to laugh. 

“Let’s eat before someone eats all the plums.” Bucky said, grabbing his fork. 

Ignoring yesterday’s betrayal, Bucky had a really great father’s day.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes

[notyour-valentine]

The Boy in the Window ~ Tommy Shelby x Reader (Series)

Summary: (Y/N) thinks the boy her daughter sees in the window of the neighbouring house is nothing but a childish fantasy, after all, no one has lived there for years, but when she brings that boy to lunch, she realises that he is in fact very real, rather hungry and quite cold and above all- the son of none other than the infamous Tommy Shelby. Expect spoilers for Peaky Blinders Season 1-4.

Note:  Lets meet Charlie, shall we?  I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other. 

Here, you can find my [Masterlist] and the [Series Masterlist]

Warning: Canon conforming mention of violence. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. 

Requested: no

Wordcount: 4729

Part 1

[Prologue]

Well, (Y/N) realised, he was certainly real. 

Very real in fact- and currently staring up at her with wide, bright blue eyes, made even brighter by the blue jumper he wore over a white shirt. 

His hair was as pale as the summer sun, but both their cheeks were rosy from the cold. Unlike Emma he wore no coat and no hat, and so a few stray snowflakes were melting in his hair. 

“That’s my Mummy!”, Emma told the boy. They seemed to be about of an age, her just a little bit taller than him but that said nothing, not when they were still so little. 

“Hello.”, he said shyly, stretching out his hand. 

 (Y/N) was still holding the bowl of soup and quickly set it down before turning back to the new arrival. 

“What are you doing here?”

Her own voice sounding uncommonly breathless, as if she had been the one running around in the snow, while she crouched down in front of him. 

“Emma said I could come for lunch with you…may I?”, he asked, glancing back to Emma for confirmation. 

“Please, Mummy!”

 (Y/N) only huffed and leaned against the counter. 

“Well, you’re here now.”, was all she managed to say. As her mins tried to process the developments, her body went into autopilot, pouring drink and serving soup and smearing butter on bread. 

Emma ate well, but he ate so quickly, he had finished his second bowl before she had finished her first. (Y/N)s own spoon didn’t touch her mouth. 

He was all wrong - the way he spoke, the way he was dressed, as if he stepped out of a story book page and into her kitchen. As if Colin Craven’s lively cousin had decided to step from the pages of The Secret Garden and chose to spend Christmas Day with them. 

“Is there dessert?”, he asked cautiously. 

“Dessert?”,  (Y/N) repeated. 

How many children in Birmingham asked for dessert? Or even know the meaning of the word?

“I don’t think so, but we have some biscuits. Would you like some?”

He nodded eagerly.

Clearing the plates and the bowl of soup away, (Y/N) went to fetch some from the biscuit tin. 

“And I got chocolates from Father Christmas!”, Emma announced.

“Chocolates?”, the boy asked. “Father Christmas didn’t get me any!”

Emma’s head shot over to where her mother was watching from a safe distance. 

“Don’t worry, Mummy. You were right. Father Christmas didn’t forget Charlie- he just got toys and no sweets."

Emma reached over and handed the boy - Charlie - a piece of chocolate, which he gladly accepted. 

“Charlie?”,  (Y/N) said cautiously, sitting down on the chair next to the boy. 

She made sure not to let her thundering heart affect her voice. The last thing she wanted was to frighten the boy. 

“Emma said you were in that house over there - is that right?”

He nodded, still chewing on the chocolate. 

“Well, how did you get there? Do you know?”

At once his eyes fell as his hands dropped into his lap. His fingers coiled into the fabric of his short trousers, which like everything about him, screamed that he did not belong here, in this place, let alone in this weather. 

“Dad said we had to go.”, he mumbled, his voice so soft,  (Y/N) had to lean in closer to hear. “Didn’t say where and I fell asleep in the car. Then he said that that’s our home now but we can go back in a bit.”

His fingers twisted the dark corduroy of his shorts. 

“How long is a bit?”, he asked, looking up at her with glassy eyes. 

It made her heart clench in her chest. She was never good when children got sad, and he asked her with such desperation, she yearned to make his pain go away. 

So she crouched down in front of him and placed her hand on his knee. 

“I don’t know, darling.”, she said truthfully. 

The first tears began to spill, but he did not start to sob, instead he just wept silently, sniffling. 

“Oh no, no need for that!”, she assured him. But he had mentioned his father and that was something. 

“Where’s your father now?”, she asked. 

“I-I don’t know…”, he admitted, his voice growing ever higher as the tears kept coming. “I don’t know where anyone is…I called for Frances but she didn’t come. She normally always comes!”

The tears coated his cheeks now, and his nose began to drip, as he struggled for air. 

“Where is she? Where is everyone?”

He threw himself forward, burying his face in his arms as he began to sob out right now. 

“Mummy!”, Emma gasped in shock, pushing herself back in her chair. 

(Y/N) shared her daughter’s sentiment and rushed to lift the boy up in her arms. 

He was heavier than Emma, but still not too heavy for her to carry. 

As soon as he felt her touch, arms wrapped around her, his hands coiling deeply into the fabric of her dress while he buried his head into the crook of her neck.

With one arm she held him up, the other rubbing circles on his back. 

For a while the cries got louder, turning into desperate wails, but she began to sway back and forth.

Slowly but surely, the hums of Emma’s favourite lullaby got through, turning the sobs back to sniffles. 

Still, he clung to her like a drowning man to a log. 

“I don’t know who Frances is, my darling.”, she admitted, stroking over the back of his head. “Is she your sister?”

He shook his head against her shoulder. 

Slowly, he lifted it to look at her. His cheeks were stained from tears and his eyes red from crying. 

“Emma?”, she asked. “Has he told you who Frances is?”

Her daughter shook her head. She had taken refuge behind her chair, clutching its back and watching from a safe distance. 

“Charlie, you have to help us a little bit. Who is Frances?”, she asked, running her fingers through his hair. 

“She takes care of me and of Dad when he’s there and of the house and she tells all the maids what to do.”

His voice was muffled against her shoulder, but she heard it just fine and it made her feel like someone had doused her in ice cold water. 

“You have maids?”, Emma gasped, daring to come closer, now that her curiosity had been sparked. “Like in a fairy palace?”

So she had picked up on it too. 

(Y/N) sat down and placed the boy on her lap. It wasn’t easy to pry him away from her shoulder, but when she didn’t fight as he clung to the front part of her dress, he tolerated it. Still, he glanced down at her and pouted, his lips quivering. 

“And you had to leave in the middle of the night?”

He gave a single nod. 

Oh no. 

“To wake up here?”

He nodded again. 

Taking a sharp breath, she leaned back in her chair and glared out at the building across the narrow space. 

She had never been a bother and so the Blinders had left her in peace. But that didn’t mean she did not know. After all, she had lived in this house before, years ago, before she had found and lost a husband, back when there were no whispers of cuttings and shootings and worse. 

In a way, these memories made them less scary to her than to those for whom they represented nothing but shadows and creatures of the dark, but at the same time (Y/N) Hale wasn’t foolish enough to imagine that a few childhood encounters was enough to keep her or Emma safe from their wrath and violence. 

But this was too much. Taking a child, for whatever scheme or plot was just plain evil. 

Her first reaction, the normal reaction, was to call the police, but that wouldn’t do. The police here were as much in the Blinder’s pockets as the men at the corner’s were, and all those in the factories, and at the docks. 

No police. Not here. She’d have to get away for that. 

“Where do you live, Charlie?”, she asked, stroking his hair out of his face. 

“In my house.”

“Do you know the city?”, she wanted to know, keeping her voice as lighthearted as possible. It wouldn’t do to worry the children. 

“Not in a city.”

“A village?”, she suggested. 

He shook his head once more. 

“Just our house.”

Must be a big house then, she thought, only confirming her suspicion. 

“It’s red and it’s got big stables.”

“Does it now?”, (Y/N) asked, realising she wouldn’t get further with it. 

Children went missing every day, but children dressed like that had people looking for them.

If she caught a train to London, she could ensure his safety. Of course, the Shelbys’ there had offices and factories and docks too, and probably their contacts in the police as well. But the disappearances of a boy like this - that would be too big for the Peaky Blinders to conceal in London.

Yes, London it was, and as quickly as possible. 

So she decided to try a different tactic. 

“What are your parents called?”

“Dad.”, he mumbled, coiling the fabric of her dress the same way he had done with his trousers earlier. 

“That’s what you call him.”, she told him, tapping the tip of his nose. 

“See, Emma calls me Mummy, but when I go to the shops, they call me Mrs. Hale because my name is (Y/N) Hale.”

That seemed to make sense to Charlie. She could practically hear the wheels turning in his  head. 

“Frances calls my Dad Mr. Shelby. But Lizzie calls him Tommy.”

For the second time that day, (Y/N) felt her stomach drop, only this time it was accompanied by an icy chill. 

~

"What do we do now, Mummy?", She asked. 

That was the question, wasn't it? 

So the boy wasn't some piece in one of the many Blinder's schemes, not the collateral to some Lordling's debts, or to sway some minister's hand. That was a relief at least because no one, least alone a child, deserved to be dragged into their world. 

But in a way it was his world, or his father's world at least. 

God help us. 

Not a kidnapping at least, but that still didn't explain why she would have Tommy Shelby's son of all people in her kitchen. Nor what she was to do now. 

It made no sense at all. 

He had gotten out- had gotten richer than the King, and nearly as powerful too, with a large house, and maids and servants. 

When he occasionally returned to Birmingham, he came in a Bently, and entered his multi-story modern office with the shining brass door knobs and uniformed valets. He had business in London and in Liverpool and in America and probably on the moon for all she knew. He had even received an honour from the King- that had sent the tongues wagging from here all the way to Greet, the same man whose likeness he had set ablaze all these years ago. 

But it had gotten quiet since then. 

There were still occasional beatings and smashed windows but no more fighting. After all, there was no one left to fight the Peaky Blinders. 

So why on earth would he return now, and bring his son with him?  

Perhaps to show him his roots, but that didn't make sense. News travelled fast and when almost three years ago, people whispered that Tommy Shelby had gone mad and had killed his entire family, fear had spread. In the end, they hadn't been killed, but arrested only to be released half a year later. But the rumours were they already had the ropes around their neck and had to beg Tommy on their knees for their lives. Some said they even had to kiss his feet, but (Y/N) thought that was a little far fetched. They never returned to Small Heath- forced out of the company so that King Thomas could rule alone. That was what Mrs. Sloan said. If they ever stepped foot in Birmingham again, he'd kill them himself, was what Mrs. Davies from the shops had heard. 

And she doubted he got homesick. He always was the one who wanted to get away, even as a boy vanishing for weeks at a time and leaving his family, mostly Ada, in a state. 

Once he almost hadn’t come back at all, she remembered. 

That still did not  explain why he would bring the boy here only to abandon him, in a place he didn't know, all alone without much food in winter. 

Unless-

No. 

It was a cruel thing even to think- a sin, really, one so dark they didn’t even have to carve it in stone for people to know. 

Still, not many would put it past Tommy Shelby, not after all the cuttings and the killings and the shootings and the lootings and the burnings. There were stories and accounts, tales and rumours, whispers and shouts but they all taught one thing: To fear Thomas Shelby. 

But once upon a time (Y/N) had looked into those eyes and felt her heart break for him as she saw a boy, and not the man he had been forced to be. 

A lot had changed since then, but she refused to believe he would be capable of something like this. 

This was his son, for heaven's sake. 

And he wouldn't just leave him out to starve and freeze. 

I hope. 

~

If someone found something that was lost, one returned it and so (Y/N) gathered the children and crossed the courtyard to the house on Watery Lane. 

Charlie showed her that the back door had been unlocked, and let them in. As soon as they crossed the threshold, a chill went down her spine which was due to more than just the cold air. 

“Oh.”, Emma gasped, wrapping her arm around her leg. 

She felt it too, and even Charlie huddled closer to her .

(Y/N)s heart thundered in her chest as she stepped closer inside. 

“Hello?”, she called, listening to her own shaky breath as her voice bounced off of the walls. 

“Hello?”

Neither Emma nor Charlie seemed all too keen to take the initiative and so it was up to her to lead the way. All the houses here had been built en masse, and so had the exact same layout, well apart from whatever those dark green doors that were as large as stable doors hid. 

Stepping into the hall she called out once more. Still, there was no answer, and no trace that anyone was here. 

“No one’s here!”, Emma remarked, looking around once more. “There are no shoes and no coats - look Mummy.”

She saw just fine, and swallowed the lump in her throat. But at the same time, she felt Charlie nudge ever closer as if he wanted to be absorbed into her.

“Don’t worry, darling!”, she told him, stroking over his head. “It’ll be just fine. Now why don’t we make ourselves comfortable?”

Comfortable in the house of the most dangerous family in Birmingham - which I just broke into with two small children. 

But what was the alternative?

They returned to the kitchen and she began to open the curtains to let the little natural light they could get in. 

Protecting the children under her coat for warmth, she opened the windows to let some fresh air in at least. As she fidgeted with the lock, her thumbs turned grey from the dust. 

With the air, the winter entered the house on Watery Lane, but (Y/N) had already felt the chill. She had never been here before, not in all these years, even before these walls had been tainted by the implications of what lay in the shadows. 

There were stories about ghosts and spirits that lingered in the walls, hidden between floorboards and furniture. If they weren’t regularly let out, they would collect and gather - and infect and drain the energy of those living around them. She did not doubt that these walls had housed many ghosts over the years. 

Goosebumps appeared all over her arms and back and when her teeth began to clatter, she closed the windows once more. 

“Now, let’s see about a fire.”

“Dad’s brought firewood upstairs.”, Charlie announced. 

The offer was tempting, but the last thing she wanted to do was go snooping around upstairs. Lord only knew what she might find. 

So she decided to make do with what she found downstairs. 

It caused a lot of smoke at first, but then it finally began to spread some warmth. 

She took her coat, and Emma’s too (Charlie had come without one) and hung them over the back of a chair. 

Charlie had run upstairs and brought down as many toys as he could carry, eager to show Emma. There were figures of horses with riders - Cowboys, by the look of it, and cars with shiny surfaces and sheer windows, with doors one could open.

They were brand new and undoubtedly expensive and soon the patterns on the round carpet had been converted to a landscape with rivers with dangerous currents, gaping cliffs and deep forests which were perilous for both rider and driver. 

As the children played, (Y/N) allowed herself to glance around. 

In the large cupboard behind the round desk, she could see countless plates and cups of old, occasionally chipped china. She knew that pattern from many kitchens around here. 

The table had many marks upon it, showing over a decade of use and one of the chairs wobbled slightly. The kitchen area was identical to the one she had back home, but there were no jars, no bowl with vegetables, no tin of christmas cookies. But instead a stain where something had burned into it. 

It almost looked normal. 

In a way, it could almost have been comfortable, if one had taken the time to give it a good scrubbing- and add some decorations maybe. If one had added life, and not just memory of it. 

As the children were lost in their play, she allowed herself to drown in a past time, when she had been a little girl with braids and bows in her hair and no knowledge of the world, nor what it would make of them. 

The faces in the picture frames on the walls were more familiar to her than the people would be now. She had left shortly after they had returned and had returned after they had already become too big for Small Heath. 

But in the pictures, they were familiar to her. There was even a picture of Mrs. Shelby. It was impossible to miss the part of the picture that had been cut away, even at the price of the dent it left on her shoulder where her husband’s hand had been resting once. 

She wondered what had happened to him - if he was still alive. After the war there had been talk for a little while that Arthur Shelby was back, but no one had really seen him, so even if he had, he didn’t stay.

Whatever memories she had of him were scarce - those of Mrs. Shelby burned far brighter in her mind. She had been beautiful, and kind, but sometimes she had looked at her with those eyes as if seeing more than just her face. Then, the change had happened and they had begun to fear the sounds and shadows that came from across the courtyard. There were chants behind the windows and whispers in the street. Then she had vanished for a few months and in that time, (Y/N)s little world had shattered completely, so she had paid the house across the courtyard little mind, even when Mrs. Shelby returned. Finn had barely been old enough to hold his own head up, when his mother died. And little older when his father left. 

Finn - he must almost be a man now, she thought, or on the best way there. But in her mind he was either the baby that screamed all night for weeks on end, or the scrappy child with a quick mouth and quicker hands. 

Three turned into four and then to five, but still there was no sound apart from the children playing, who had begun to transport marbles back and forth with the cars - a flourishing trade between the cowboys from the table-shade-valley and the others from the sofa-top-heights. 

When five turned into six, hunger struck again. 

“I’ll see what I can do.”

But there was nothing in the kitchen cabinets apart from cutlery and dust, and in the pantry she found an ice book which hadn’t been used in years and a box of biscuits that looked to be from the Golden Jubilee.

“I’ll have to go back to our house to prepare something.”, she announced. 

“Don’t leave me here!”, Charlie insisted, scrambling up from the carpet at lightning speed.

 “I wouldn’t dream of it.”, she said, before glancing around. 

In one of the drawers she found some pencils and writing paper (and also some bullets which she decided to ignore) and wrote a note, before taking both children and making her way back to her own home. 

Staring at the paper, she chose her words carefully. 

While they ate, her mind wandered back to all these empty cabinets and then to her own. She had taken care to fill them in advance, knowing how hectic these Christmas days could get. It wasn’t that she hadn’t already stretched her budget this month, with Emma’s presents and the Christmas food, but she couldn’t as well leave them with nothing.

But it just wasn’t right, and not the way they did things around here. Shelbys or not. One didn’t allow a child to stay in a house without anything. So she retrieved her basket and began to fill it. A bottle of milk, some tea, a handful of potatoes, carrots and some other vegetables would do. She gathered a few slices of bread and wrapped it in paper, before cutting off a piece of their butter. It was joined by a few eggs and a jar of marmalade. They wouldn’t notice that it was the smallest they had. 

In the other jars which she had already cleaned for their next use, she filled some flour and sugar. It wasn’t much, but it would get them through a few days. 

She also decided to add some biscuits wrapped in a red cloth, like the ones she had given away as Christmas goodies. Charlie liked them, after all. 

With the basket, she no longer had a hand free, but Emma seemed content by now to walk alone. Charlie, now wearing one of Emma’s coats (the black one which needed mending at the bottom) was glad to have her hand to hold. 

The second time around, the house felt a lot warmer, but she could still see the dust dance in the light. 

The children begun to play a game of marbles, as the clock kept ticking, and ticking and ticking. Almost as if it was mocking her. 

Soon, it was already far past Emma’s bedtime and both she and Charlie got fussy. But she couldn’t leave and put Emma to bed, while being here and watching Charlie. 

So (Y/N) chose to put them both on the sofa (which she had beaten the worst of the dust out of the pillows) next to each other. 

“A sleepover?”, Emma giggled, glancing at Charlie with wide eyes. 

“Only for a bit. I’m sure your father will be here very soon.”

Charlie didn’t look sure. And he didn’t share Emma’s excitement either. 

The two of them were so little, they could fit onto the sofa with no problem, and under the blanket she had brought. Duffie, still in Charlie’s arms, lay between them as she knelt down in front of them, smoothing down the fabric of her dress before she opened the book of fairy tales. 

Emma chose the one about The Seven Ravens, which was typical for she liked nothing more than stories of courageous girls. Charlie didn’t seem too keen, as the little girl in the fairy tale first encountered the cruel sun, and then the icy moon on her quest to find and rescue her brothers, nor did he like the gatekeeping dwarf too much, but when the girl had unlocked the door and entered, and when the seven ravens turned back into the boys they had been to crowd around their little sister, he breathed such a sigh of relief, she giggled. 

“It’s just a story.”, Emma giggled. 

“And they had a happy ending.”, (Y/N) reminded Charlie, stroking over his forehead. She didn’t miss how he leaned into it. 

“Mummy?”

“Hm?”

“A song now please!”, Emma asked, snuggling into her pillow. 

“Which song would that be?”, (Y/N) asked. 

“You know!”, her daughter groaned and rolled her eyes. With a smile, (Y/N) shifted closer, stroking a strand of hair out of her face. 

“I gave my love a cherry that had no stone.”, she began.

“I gave my love a chicken that had no bone.

I gave my love a story that had no end. 

I gave my love a baby with no tears shed.”

(Y/N) did not have a singing voice, not a proper one. She sang for her daughter and she sang in church, but it wasn’t a voice meant for an audience. She could hold a tune but not leap to unknown heights or plummet into the depth with her voice like someone else might have done. 

Emma knew the answers to the questions asked in the second verse well by now, but Charlie did not and he was listening eagerly when the third verse came, his bright blue eyes, his father’s eyes, locked in on her. 

“A cherry when it’s blooming, it has no stone. 

A chicken in an eggshell, it has no bone. 

The story of ‘I love you’, it has no end. 

A baby when it’s sleeping has no tears to shed.”

With that, her song came to a close.

“Sleep now, my darling!”, she told Emma as she kissed her temple. “And you too, Charlie. I’ll be right there.”

He muttered a good night, but didn’t seem as content as Emma.

~

When nine turned to ten, she decided to forgo her resolve not to use anything in this house and made herself a cup of tea. After all, she had cleaned the kettle and the cups, and had brought the tea. 

But before long, ten turned to eleven, and there was nothing to do but listen to the crackling fire and the breathing of the sleeping children. And to wait of course. 

Even her own bedtime passed. She ought to be exhausted after the hassle of the last few days and the early morning thanks to Emma’s excitement. It already seemed like half a lifetime ago now. And yet, she couldn’t even begin to feel tired. It would be just like deciding to sleep in a lion’s cage. 

Midnight had come and only just gone, when she heard a car stop not too far away. 

Her heart began to thunder in her chest. 

The only people that dared to move around Small Heath at night were the Blinders, and of those only very few possessed a car. 

(Y/N) stood up and smoothed down her skirt. 

In her mind she had prepared her little speech over and over. 

Introduce yourself. Explain. Apologise. Leave. 

Just as she checked on the children once more, seeing the both of them fast asleep, she heard the faintest click, but then nothing. 

Perhaps I was mistaken, she thought. 

Just as she was about to enter the hall and check, the whole frame was filled out by a tall figure with broad shoulders made broader by his thick black winter coat. 

But she wasn’t looking at that, or even his face. 

The only thing she saw - the only thing she could see - was the pitch black barrel of his gun.

~

End of Part 1

[Here you can find: Part 2]

Thank you for reading! I’d be very grateful for feedback of any kind! If you are interested in more, here is my [Masterlist] and the [Series Masterlist]

Taglist: @lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads

#Peaky Blinders #Tommy Shelby #Thomas Shelby #Thomas Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby Imagine #Thomas Shelby Imagine #The Boy in the Window #valentineswritings

[celestialseph]

november fic rec list (a few days late!)

my blog is 18+, and so are most of these stories. minors are not welcome.

welcome to my (stranger things, you can find the call of duty one here!) november fic rec list! this'll be a combo of october and november. here's all of my favorites from the last two months! enjoy :)

eddie munson

death of me (masterlist) by @munson-trashcan - a sequel to days of the week, which can be found here!

crybaby by @indouloureux - on my top five eddie fics list, seriously. i cannot tell you how often i think of this fic! i've had full-on dreams about it, a round of applause for this one (for all their works, but this one in particular gets a whole ass standing ovation from me).

masterlist from @upsidedownwithsteve - i am still going to link some of my favorite stories from her in their respective sections, but seriously, all her works are fantastic!

masterlist from @sunflowergirl522 - also one with so many amazing stories! (if you didn't see my last rec list, i literally call my cat angel face because of this fic!)

masterlist from @carolmunson - the sadist!eddie stories..... whewwwwwwww

baby, slow it down and baby, kiss me quick by @upsidedownwithsteve

kiss of the knife by @indouloureux

i want your video by @thefreak-thebanished - (i just want it known that as soon as i started typing the title for this, this song came on lol)

trapped heat inside a small, tin box by @chaseadrian

get your fix by @munsonquinns

forget the broom, ride me instead by @laheymaze

breakup sex and part two by @munsonquinns

scream my name by @munsonquinns

scandals & handcuffs; burning altars by @indouloureux

eddie kink series by @corrodedhawkins

right here by @upsidedownwithsteve

kinktober day three: anal by @prettyboyeddiemunson

black dahlia by @munsons-curls

drunk on you by @wndalovebot

life's no fun without a good scare by @nyxoz

making deals by @munsonslove

easily by @roanniom

bad things by @goldenbuckyyy

living dead girl by @usedtobecooler

eddie loves when people hear you fuck by @icyharrington

rocket queen by @sgrantsgf



steve harrington

a little mean for me and a little nice for me by @upsidedownwithsteve

breeding with steve by @forourmoons

take care of me by @fettuccin-e

filthy whispers by @fettuccin-e

sick like summer by @upsidedownwithsteve

keep my hand in yours by @harringtown

hot for teacher by @handful0fteeth

a cozy day with steve by @joellkeeny

lover's lake by @stvharrngton

tricks and treats by @sailor-steve

call it what you want by @sunshinehollandd

missed you by @pillow-titties



steddie

out of touch by @lilacletter

somethin' unholy and dirty, dirty boys by @upsidedownwithsteve

getting high with the boys by @munsonquinns

kinktober day twenty seven: cuckholding by @mcplestreet

boys on film and part two by @corrodedcorpses

steve teaches virgin!reader how to blow virgin!eddie by @usedtobecooler

what best friends are for by @hard-candy-writing

you, me, and steve by @lis-likes-fics



robin buckley

once in twenty lifetimes by @harringtown - this one made me cry, it's so cute and sweet and soft and just all around beautiful. i love it, so much. here's her masterlist because all her robin (and all the rest of them, some of my favorites are scattered in here too!) fics are so, so wonderful.

yours is the first face i saw (ao3) - THE GLASSES FIC! this shit broke me in ways i didn't know a fic could break me. seriously, i couldn't stop sobbing for over an hour. highly, highly, recommend.

absolutely smitten by @sunshinehollandd



blurbs

THE TIKTOK SERIES by @morganbritton132 - literally just scroll the whole account and you'll see why it's my new favorite obsession

robin coming out to the party, chaos ensues by @simpforsauron

sub eddie by @corrodedhawkins

blurb masterlist by @eddies-ashtray

missionary with eddie by @indouloureux

seeing steve for the first time in a while by @joellkeeny

the fruity four living together by @steddiealltheway

not the same steve by @metal-dads

perv!eddie teaching you how to suck his dick by @chainsawmunson

cockwarming with eddie by @mantorokk-writes

modern fruity four living together by @werewolf-stevie

chapstick by @corrodedcoughin

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley and steve harrington #fruity four #fic recs

[bountydroid]

Stitches

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Lucy Maclean (PLATONIC)

Request: Can I please request some hurt/comfort between Lucy & The Ghoul 😩 Like she gets hurt during her encounter with the gulper & Cooper breaks his bad boy/mean character for a minute and helps to stitch her up? Or Cooper gets hurt during a gunfight & tries to hide it from Lucy but fails, & Lucy brings her nice, down-to-earth self and takes care of his wounds (even though he bitches the entire time 🤣)

Notes: Okay anon this is a shorter one. I tried my best to keep him in character but also a little softer with Lucy. I mean he did cut off her finger and tried to sell her organs, so it seemed ooc to have him be all mushy. I hope you like it anyway.

Once the gulper finally retreated into the water, Lucy finally felt the result of her struggle. A large gash on her leg pulsed in pain. Tears fell down her face as she pushed herself away from the water. 

Cooper was in another world entirely as he hurriedly searched his bag for his tin of Radaway. All the vials were completely crushed.

"Motherfucker!" He shouted angrily.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I should've just let you use me as bait in a poison river!" Lucy yelled back.

Cooper lowered his gun before turning back around to the water. "Fuck!" He screamed.

"You can't treat people like this!" Lucy shouted angrily.

"Yeah, why's that?" Cooper asked, his mind obviously elsewhere. 

"Because of the golden rule." She said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Do unto others as you would have done unto you."

"Those gulpers digest real slow. You got time." Cooper said to himself, throwing his bag over his shoulder before pulling out his lasso.

"No. no, no, no, no." She begged as he put it around her neck. "Where are we going? What about the head? I need the head to get my dad back."

"Yeah, well, the wasteland's got its own golden rule," Cooper replied, dragging her along.

"Yeah, what's that?" She asked.

"Thou shalt get sidetracked by bullshit every goddamn time." Cooper sighed.

"What about the dog?" Lucy asked, scurrying after him.

"He ain't mine." He responded curtly.

It had been hours since they started walking to who knows where. Lucy had no idea where they were going or why they left the head behind. Her leg was angry at the continued use and she was getting worried. 

"Please, sir," Lucy implored. "My leg hurts."

This was the first time Cooper realized she was hurt. He sighed. "Sit." He commanded. 

Lucy quickly did as she was told, looking on with a hopeful expression as he rummaged through his bag before he pulled out a needle and thread.

"But, sir.... don't you have a stimpack?" Her eyes bulged at the needle, never having had stitches before.

He scoffed in response, "Why the hell would I have one of those? Now sit still." He knelt down in front of her as he inspected the wound. It was a large gash across her thigh, angry and bleeding.

She instinctively wiggled as fear settled in her stomach. 

"I said sit still," Cooper said before putting his hand firmly on her thigh. Lucy noticed a decided lack of venom in his voice. The venom he has had since they first met in Filly. She sat as quietly as possible, letting out a few yelps and gasps here and there as he stitched her back up. 

After some time Cooper leaned back on his heels. "There." He said to himself before pushing himself up off the ground.

Lucy stayed on the ground sniffling in pain, staring at the crude sewing job. "That is going to leave a nasty scar." She mumbled to herself.

'Stop your whining." Cooper complained as he offered his hand to her to help her up. She put her bound wrists in his hand as he pulled her up with ease. 

While he was still in a hurry, Cooper let her walk a little slower after that.

Tag list: @v3lv3tf0x

#cooper howard #the ghoul fallout #fallout tv series #Lucy maclean #lucy maclean fallout

[supernaturallyliterate]

PJO SEASON FINALE AHHHH

THOUGHTS. YES THOSE.

Spoilers. Duh. Book and show

Annabeth being there to witness the moment Luke tried to kill Percy is a FUCKING GAME CHANGER. To me, it says that Annabeth suspected Luke & made a plan to make both Percy and Luke think that she would be with Clarisse. When she intended to follow them and protect Percy if need be.

I’m not mad about it. It’s a big change. But it makes sense for her character. It will make her and Luke’s dynamic later in the series a little different. Maybe instead of Annabeth blindly wanting to believe that Luke is good and couldn’t possibly do evil things, it will be more nuanced. She knows he’s done horrible things. She’s seen it. But she still can’t help but remember who he used to be. She hesitates in key moments. Let’s him get away. He takes advantage of those moments and escapes. Not intentional on Annabeth’s part. She tries to be calculated. But her emotions get the better of her. I can see this working out quite nicely.

And it still allows her to be the one at the end, in heroes of Olympus, to be there, advocating for Luke. Telling Percy to give him the knife. OH THIS IS GONNA BE GOOD.

Okay but Walker Scobell is such a good fucking Percy Jackson

Leah Jeffry Savies is such. Good fucking Annabeth Chase.

And aryan is such a good fucking Grover Underwood.

Okay but the searchers license being a literal flower?? How are you gonna convince me that Grover wouldn’t anxiously eat it like he does tin cans??

OKAY BUT ALSO I ACCIDENTALLY STARTED REWATCHING EPISODE ONE instead of episode eight and LUKE DOES THE VOICEOVER. THE ICONIC SO YOURE A HALFBLOOD SPEECH. BUT CHANGED. AND OHHH ITS SO FUCKING GOOD. THE PARALLELS ARE PARALLELING

I am so so fucking glad that we got the sword fight training scenes. We really needed them. The scene shifts of Percy fighting Ares and Percy training with Luke are spot on. And it sets up the friendship and mentorship with Luke & Percy even more. Making the betrayal so much worse. It build up perfectly.

Gods I wish we had a longer season.

Again with things being directly told to Percy. “You’re a leader among the halfbloods now,” Chiron tells him.

The bead at the end of the season when he’s leaving camp

THE PACT THE TRIO MAKES

And the fact that next year, all FOUR of them will return to that spot. Percy, Annabeth, Grover… and Thalia.

Annabeth’s hairstyle in the final scene was supers cute

The scene of Percy seeing his mom after she returns from the Underworld WAS SO CUTE AND PRECIOUS AND THEN KRONOS FUCKED IT UP. I love it. Chefs kiss.

Clarrise looked so fucking badass in her pan shot with her arms crossed. Like yeah she totally could’ve fucked some shit up with the gods

I love the beach scene with Percy v. Ares and how confused Annabeth is about the helm situation cuz she wasn’t there lmao

I kinda liked that Ares got cocky and kicked his opponent, the SoN of the FuCKinG SeA GOD into the OCEAN. Percy rolled through that little puddle and I screamed OH ITS OVER FOR YOU.

Walker’s micro expressions are fucking ICONIC AND I CANT WAIT FOR THE SCREEN RECORDS

Your honor I love them. Yes this post has devolved. No I won’t stop.

I gasped when Alecto was there at Montauk instead of Sally. But yeah. She showed up. I just forgot.

I love how Percy has just started calling people out on their shit. “You were always after the helm, weren’t you?” And telling Zeus he’s a shitty dad

OKAY BUT POSEIDON SHOWING UP TO PROTECT PERCY. I GASPED. I LOVE THIS CHANGE SO MUCH. it shows so much more compassion and gentleness of Poseidon. Yes in the books we get some glimpses. But the show isn’t holding back his favoritism.

THE PERCABETH HUG PT TWO

okay but we were robbed of more Seaweed Brain and Wise Girl quips.

I’m sure I’ll have more thoughts later on. But overall. I AM SO HAPPY WITH THIS SERIES I JUST WISH IT HAD MORE EPISODES TO GIVE THE STORY THE TIME AND DEVELOPMENT IT DESERVES.

#percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson disney+ #pjo show spoilers #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #percy jackson show spoilers #pjo show #percy jackon and the olympians #I will die by this tag

[ladystrallan]

Once Upon a Time season 6B thoughts

I’m rewatching OUAT and I wanted to share some of my opinions on each season!

- Ooh Ruth pulling the knife

- I was wondering for a second where snow was

- I forgot she was cursed

- Dad???

- “If I wanted advice I doubt I’d take it from a pirate” low blow

- Omg the coin

- “That demon box” not the alarm clock

- Robin coming back is so stupid I can’t believe it

- Hook is going to propose!!!

- The ring is not that fabulous though

- Daddy issues David

- His lucky coin :(

- Yikes Robin

- Aw he did the deal pro bono :(

- Rumple… what a softie

- “The hearts of my enemies” why do you still have those???

- I don’t even care that they’re kissing this is just stupid

- Not them spinning around

- Pleasure Island!!!

- Omg Pinocchio

- “I’m also your father” ok strange man I’ve never met

- Knife fight

- Sad moment for David

- Great acting though

- Awww this is cute

- Omg hook killed david’s dad!!!

- Noooo this is not good

- ‘The first ogres war’ so there’s multiple???

- They need to trip them or something

- Not the wilhelm scream lol

- Slayyyyyy Rumple

- Ogre war redemption arc

- No bae :(

- #bullying

- Rumple :(

- Bae I thought you wanted him to be good

- Giving mixed signals here

- Omg he memory erased him so he wouldn’t turn dark

- Awwww this is so cute

- They’re engaged!

- I am so sick of the EQ just go away

- “I sleep in hay! … which is on dirt” lol

- Oh no

- Emma is really good at finding out things before hook can tell her

- Not the ring coming off…

- I bet the arrow is gonna point at her

- They’re going to sword fight???

- I knew it

- Are they just twins now or what?

- This is stupid

- I thought Regina couldn’t use that wand

- Plot hole alert

- I completely forgot about this

- Oh no

- Gideon no

- Can they not stop the submarine once it goes?

- Kraken hunting time!

- Aladdin and jasmine are back!

- Did he just make him into a sceptre???

- No one remembers achmed I guess

- CGI is looking a little rough

- What is this outfit Regina???

- Ariel! Love her

- That magic carpet cgi… bad

- Drunk snow lol

- Omg it was Jafar!

- “I can see my hovel from here” why does everyone have a hovel in this show???

- Awwwww captainswan

- Of course it was Gideon

- Ok kill the black fairy is not a bad thing to do

- Not the minor miners

- Ooh spooky intro

- Slay

- Nothing beats a good left hook

- “I’m your real mother” okay grandma (literally)

- Is rumbelle back together???

- Yasssss

- Omg Henry is possessed

- “Let’s get my pirate back” awwwww

- Omg I hate this ugly cgi spider

- Nooooo it was Roderick

- Omg not Isaac

- He’s so creepy

- Gideon what the fuck

- Ooh the lost boys are back

- Lots of returning people this season

- I wish hades would return :(

- Rumple slayyyyy

- Why do her guards look like they’re from Star Wars?

- Nooooo she killed Roderick

- “This is on you, Gideon. And my boot.” Good line

- Omg she has his heart

- “Dark one junior” lol

- PTA meeting is getting intense

- RUMBELLE

- Omg she got through!!!

- She has such Coraline other mother vibes

- Lol peace out loser

- Omg tiger lily

- Omg underworld reference??? The flower growing in the crack

- Nice to see long hair rumple again

- Emma’s name was his curse break thingy!!!

- They’re going to burn him at the stake???

- Awwwww this is so cute

- Slay Leroy

- Get a room

- Omg they’re all asleep

- Oh good not for long

- Ooh zelena in the recap

- “Why don’t you practice on my axe” omg

- This is the tin man I know it

- Ooh you’re looking for trouble touching zelena’s baby

- Yikes captainswan keep it PG

- “Am I interrupting something?” Omg

- Omg is that the bassinet that Zelena was abandoned in?

- We love a girlboss that takes things into her own hands

- “I sacrificed hades for you” that was a mistake

- But seriously Regina is not one bit grateful for what Zelena did for her, give up her true love to save her life

- At a time when Regina had Henry and was friends with the Charmings and Zelena had no one

- And Regina even BLAMES her for Robin’s death

- Robin had it coming but that’s another thing

- Snow’s date with Whale…

- Slay zelena

- Like a lion could take her… let’s be real

- “Go back to Oz” LOW BLOW

- That was so unwarranted

- Maybe if you guys weren’t so awful to Zelena then she wouldn’t fall into those traps

- That is so selfless to give up her magic to help everyone

- She is amazing

- That apology is long overdue

- Omg not Malcom

- That pathetic little man

- Baby rumple!

- The perfect name? How did you end up with Rumplestiltskin?

- Omg Rumple was supposed to be the saviour! (I remembered that)

- Rumple smash!

- At least there was no glass involved

- OMG ITS THE BLACK FAIRY!!!

- AND GIDEON!!!

- Where did Regina get a green car?

- ZELENA HIT HER WITH THE CAR

- SLAYYYYYY

- Zelena 1, black fairy 0

- Twist!!!

- She is the evil omg

- “I need my power” Rumple really had no chance

- Nooo he named him that because he hated him

- Something is suspicious

- Awwww he asked Henry to be his best man

- I knew rumple was up to something

- Why is he doing this???

- I love this episode!

- I know a lot of people don’t like it but I think it makes so much sense for this show to have a musical episode

- Like the Disney movies are musicals

- And the songs slap

- Ooh slay intro

- Omg it’s just so good!!!

- Everyone is amazing but josh dallas has a great voice

- Ooh that neck brake choreo

- I’m not a Regina fan but I have to admit she slayed

- Lana did a great job

- “You’ve come to say goodbye” nooooo

- This is so sad

- Killian’s song might be my second favourite

- It just fits him so well and Colin slayed

- Poison dart!!!

- They should have brought Hades back for this episode

- Greg was in the obc of Assassins

- Rumple should have gotten a song tbh

- Zelena slays so hard!!!

- Wicked always wins is the best song

- Although they should have made a wicked reference

- Rebecca Mader is so awesome

- Rumple why are you being evil???

- It is a little silly that their plan is just sing at her

- Not Henry tossing the book

- That was kinda funny

- Slayyyy

- I love how her song is the OUAT theme

- Captainswan is so cute

- Their vows!!!

- I love happy beginning such a good closing number

- This is so beautiful

- “The black fairy’s curse, it’s here!” Slay Leroy we love an iconic line

- Awwww season 1 recap

- You know what I miss?

- THERE IS A TOWN IN MAINE

- Omg this is older Henry

- Oooh curse again

- Archie: Henry, I think you’re crazy

- Not Emma in the mental hospital

- Not Fiona being the new mayor!!!

- How many sons is she going to try and kidnap???

- Gold & Sons that’s kinda cute

- Lost their mother??? What happened to belle???

- Pull ups in the mental hospital lol

- I love a good hook and david team up

- “We fought for our love and we won” awwwww

- “She said she was going to the store and she never came back” noooo

- Deadbeat belle…

- Omg not the EQ

- Awwww he called Killian his son

- “Hmmm. Merlot” LOL

- A dragon… is that maleficent?

- NOT THE BADLY PHOTOSHOPPED PICTURES OF BELLE TRAVELLING

- I CANT OMG

- Rumple please tell me you don’t believe this

- Not the falling video

- Omg no don’t burn the book

- I can’t believe she did that

- “Hello there, mummy” KILLIAN

- Omg that is so funny

- She came back!!!

- Slayyy rumple

- Noooo tempting him with Bae

- “All magic comes with a price” slayyyyy

- Omg dead

- Lol slay Henry

- “Some honeymoon, huh?” Lol I love them

- Omg charming swearing now you know it’s serious

- Not his dark one self convincing him

- Yasssss Rumple character development

- Noooo he resisted but it didn’t work

- Wtf

- Omg gideon is a baby again

- A little weird but ok

- Awwwww rumbelle

- Of course Robin proposed gotta do that fan service

- And in the tackiest way too

- OMG RUMBELLE

- THEY ARE ADORABLE

- Awww this is so cute

- Everyone got their happy ending

- Honestly a perfect finale

- Idk if I’m gonna watch season 7 because I remember hating it and this is such a perfect ending

How I feel about the characters this season

Love: Zelena, Emma, Hook

Like: Rumple, Belle, David, Jasmine, Ariel

Neutral: Henry, Snow, Gideon, Fiona (she’s camp idk), Aladdin, Regina

Dislike:

Hate:

I honestly can’t hate anyone this season

Season rating: 9/10

Not my favourite season but actually a really solid ending to an amazing show. Some of it was dumb but a lot of it was awesome. I loved the musical episode and the finale! Tbh it should have ended here.

#ouat thoughts #once upon a time season 6 #once upon a time #ouat season 6 #ouat season 6b #once upon a time season 6b #emma swan #killian jones #captain swan #regina mills #zelena mills #zelena ouat #henry mills #ouat rumple #rumplestiltskin #rumbelle #the song in your heart

[nakamurastorrington]

Hello! Is it ok if I ask for a short Percybaster drabble?

screams. is it ok. IS IT OK. my good oomf i have been writing about nearly nothing BUT them these past several days. they have annexed my brainspace.

before we get to the drabble, here are your suggested readings (fuck sorry for the college term). i’n a chronic plugger bc we must make do with our meager treasures:

cherry wine: completed, under 3k words so very quick read, examines the potential of percybaster as enemies with benefits whoop

poseidon is horrified: drabble from tumblr ask, percy is very protective and says fuck olympus to his dad's face

percybaster college au meet-hate: what it says on tin

knock knock: drabble of al being in his love/hate feelings for percy LMFAOOOO

swimming: my most recent ask-inspired drabble, as in just posted... a few hours ago?? JHFDSJKADSH al is trans and percy is a sweet goof

anyway here goes

Night has fallen by the time they arrive at Keeseville. Percy is thankful that Al takes the initiative to quickly usher their travel-worn selves to a decent inn. For one, he knows the little village better, having camped there for a while some years back. For another, Percy’s too busy trying to pick Al’s plain John Doe disguise apart, searching for anything like glints of warm sienna underneath the nondescript blond or brief flashes of vibrant green when Al’s fake blue eyes dart around for any suspicious figures. Of course, there’s nothing; Al’s Mist work is flawless and airtight as usual.

“Hi,” Al greets the receptionist. “Got any vacancies for the night?”

“Yup! How long will you be staying, sir?”

At that point, Percy zones out. Wait, no, keeps an “eye on their surroundings.” Now that’s a totally valid excuse to tune out the pleasantries Al is dragging himself through with the receptionist. Except for Al’s voice—that, he didn’t bother changing with the Mist, and Percy quite likes the sound of his voice. Likes the way it thickens with power when Al yells his incantions, the melodious tenors he mindlessly hums while tending to his pocket magic herbs… the arid air it takes on when the two of them are verbally sparring. Likes it rambling about his theories and cracking from disuse and use and rasping and dropping with the intent of seduction and madly mumbling and gasping…

“… your price for two rooms?”

“I’m afraid so, sir.”

“You’ve gotta be joking. You guys sure as hell aren’t any five-star Michelin hotel, and I’m not gonna be spending—”

“Whoa,” Percy says, tuning back in. He blinks and smiles at the receptionist. “We’ll take one room.”

“We? Who the fuck is we?”

“You guys have one with a double bed?”

“What?!”

The receptionist untenses and gives Percy a knowing smile. “Yes, we do! I can put you guys up in it right away. Just give me a second, and…”

“Oh hell no!” Al snaps, but the receptionist already has the key off the hook and the warpath to their room ready. He whirls around and jabs his index finger in Percy’s face. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

Percy shrugs. “Saving money.” He sidesteps past Al and moves to follow the receptionist. “Also just to be safe.”

“‘Just to be safe?’ That I won’t run away in the middle of the night?” Hurt bleeds into Al’s voice. “I’ll have you know, Jackson—”

“That neither of us get jumped by anything in the middle of the night,” Percy says lowly. Still sensing some ire, he tries to tease, “Aren’t you gonna protect me from the big bad monsters, Al?”

The receptionist finds their room and opens the door for them. “Here you go, sirs! Have a good night!” A wink and a jingle as the keys are tossed to Percy.

And they’re alone. Percy lets his bag drop to the ground with a heavy thud.

Al does the same with a clenched jaw. “I can take the floor,” he curtly says.

Percy sighs. Al and his hair-trigger temperament. Sometimes Percy can’t help but feel frustrated with him, constantly walking on the eggshells of their past. Al’s a victim of his circumstances, and whether Percy intended it or not, Percy happened to be one of those circumstances. But if Percy’s walking on eggshells, Al is trudging on with feet already scored and bloodied and infected, wounds that inevitably open at Percy’s presence.

It’s not so much for him to extend a little patience, in comparison.

“Okay,” Percy murmurs. Something trembles in Al’s hand, but Percy reaches out to quell it. “Before that, though, I wanna see your face again. It’s been odd, talking to another person that has your voice. That’s some Twilight Zone shit.”

“Why, haven’t seen it before?”

But Al strips his disguise, and Percy’s hands instinctively fly up to cup that narrow, freckled, sublime face. Runs his thumbs underneath spidery lashes, palms the familiar jump of the carotid artery, ghosts his fingers down the swell of Al’s mouth and the ridge of his clavicle. Eyes like toxic radium glint judgementally up at him in the unlit room, and Percy can’t help but press a kiss to each of Al’s eyelids.

“Still mad?” And he grins when Al doesn’t answer, save for a huff. It’s as good an admission as any.

#percybaster #watermagic #alabaster torrington #percy jackson #my ficlets #my asks #hope u like this!!

[sherifftillman]

Existing Together

AO3: Here!

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Word count: 3785

Summary: Life is tough when you're in middle school. A strange boy who lives in the same trailer park as you knows just how you feel, and just how to make it all feel better. Based on this amazing artwork! Please give it some love :)

You’re cycling away from your family’s trailer when you hear a bang against the one you’re passing. You let out a shriek, and stop to see a boy your age, with short dark hair that’s just starting to curl in places, sitting on the roof, one leg dangling down. He looks up from over the top of his book, wide eyes blinking hard. “Why did you scream?” Embarrassed, you mumble a reply, but he lets out a loud, “Huh?” to show he wanted to hear an answer.

“I think you kicked the wall there with that foot,” you shout back. “It gave me a fright, is all.”

He shakes his head and scoffs, “Scaredy-cat,” and returns to his book. You hurriedly get back onto your bike and rush out of the lot. You don’t have time for strange boys and their clumsy feet.

You’ve been excitedly waiting for this. The first birthday party of the year that you’ve actually been invited to. Months of crying about why you were always the only one left out have been leading up to this moment. When someone would finally extend a friendly hand. Sarah has a lot of friends, and even if they won’t speak to you, she makes the effort to. She says everyone else likes you too, really, that’s why they’re always smiling and laughing whenever she talks about you to them. She really insisted on you showing up today.

Her house is so big, though every house is big when you live in a tin can. You park your bike, take the homemade frame you made out of old popsicle sticks, cardboard you’ve scrapped from cereal boxes, and other things absolutely slathered in all the paint, glue and glitter you could use in art class without the teacher realising you weren’t doing your actual assignment. She had said that her dad was going to buy her a fancy new camera for her birthday, so you thought maybe she would like something nice for her first photo. Maybe it could even be of the two of you.

You knock on the door three times, and she answers with a sharp gasp. “You’re here! Okay, give me a minute.” She shuts the door in front of you, which you find a little strange, but your excitement to finally be here far excels that. You eventually hear, from the side of the house, Sarah’s voice pipes up again. “Okay, just come through the gate here into the yard!”

Confused, you walk over to the tall fencing, turn the handle of the gate and push it open to be met with a very strange sight. Your friend Sarah doesn’t have her usual happy smile. This one’s dripping with evil, as she holds a hosepipe up in front of her, surrounded by kids holding bottles of various soaps - dish, body, it didn’t seem to matter. Sarah looks you dead in the eye and says, “Time for a much-needed bath, trailer trash,” and holds down the trigger.

You watch the stream of water approach and then hit you in slow-motion, and yet you still do nothing to get away from it. Again, as if in slow motion, the other children jeer as they run rings around you, squeezing their bottles to cover you in slime. You can’t do anything but stand there and cry and watch the one person at school you thought you could trust laugh harshly in your face.

You finally muster up the energy to drop the frame in your hands and start running back out to the front yard to climb back onto your bike, to the tune of the chorus of mean-kid laughter. You’re pedalling as hard as you can, blinking back the tears as best as you can until the stinging becomes a result of the soap dripping into your eyes. Wiping only does so much, and it gets you into the trailer park again at least before you give up, dismounting your bike and, in a fit of anger and pain, throwing it far ahead of you and screaming.

“Hey.” You try to ignore whoever is calling you - why would anybody be calling after you? - but you hear a familiar ‘bang’. Looking over, you see the boy from earlier shuffling to lift his leg back up to join the rest of him on his roof, and lay on his stomach so his head is poking out to look down at you. “You wanna come up?”

You shake your head. “I don’t want to talk to anyone ever again.”

“Hey, me neither. That’s why I sit here. Thought you’d want the same, too. Hang on.” For the second time today, you’re standing stranded, waiting for someone. You don’t think you’ve got the patience to find out what this strange boy has in store for you as you watch him jum down and disappear into the trailer, but he throws something back up onto the roof before climbing up again, and then throwing his makeshift rope made from bedsheets over to you. “Come up!”

You figure it can’t get much worse from here, so you obey. He helps to pull you up safely, shaking his now-soapy hand and grabbing a towel - that must have been what he had thrown - to dry it before handing it to you. He nods to you and then sits back down to read his book some more. You notice it’s The Lord of the Rings. You wrap the towel around your shoulders and sit on the other side of the trailer. 

You look out at the setting sun, and see the light bounce off your parents’ trailer. If anyone could even hold a candle to the energy you had this morning about making friends, it was them. They both worked so hard, you barely saw them, and although you could hear them shouting all of the time they were in the trailer together, they always pulled through for you. 

They couldn’t see you like this. And so you sit here, high above them, and you cry silent tears. Your body shakes, a mixture of sobs and shivers. The boy sat nearby says nothing of comfort; and yet, his mere presence is comfort enough. You don’t have the right words to explain how you feel, and you don’t want to have to explain yourself. You don’t want to echo the exact events of the worst day of your life. But you know that, if you were here alone, you’d be doing exactly that, telling yourself exactly that over and over again. Here on this roof, you’re alone enough to not upset anybody else, and not-alone enough to not upset yourself further, too.

When you return home eventually, you recall the fake events of a water fight with all your new friends. Your parents look thrilled, and they don’t even argue once that night. You start telling them that you’re going out with your new friends more, but really all you’re doing is sitting on the strange boy’s roof. Sometimes you bring something to distract yourself, since you still never talk to him. Sometimes you just need to be with your own thoughts.

Even at school, whenever you’re faced with anything that reminds you of that day - which, considering all of your classmates were in attendance, happens a lot - you seek comfort in small spaces. Somehow, the strange boy has almost always either beaten you to it, or finds it when you’re already there. Either way, your silent contract remains. The two of you sit in comfortable silence, going about your lives separately and yet together.

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

You think back to your middle school days, and how you thought that day at Sarah's house was the worst day of your life. How you couldn’t even rub it in people’s faces when your family finally moved out of that rust bucket and into an actual house, because you’d spent so long telling your family they were your friends to keep them happy. Besides, you’d finally found friends amongst your neighbours, meeting up before, during and after school. You were barely in the house anymore to hear the arguments that still persisted, but at least even when you were home for them, they were muted behind actual walls.

You’re just reminiscing on how different your life is now as you walk the block to your house. You and your friends had spent all of Halloween night together, watching scary movies, telling conspiracy theories as you made s'mores over the fire, and spooking trick-or-treaters. It’s been your favourite tradition for a couple of years now, as it’s the closest your parents would let you get to a Halloween party since you started high school. 

In the excitement of it all, you had forgotten to bring your school stuff with you like the others had so that you could all walk straight to the bus stop together. You tell your friends that it’s fine, your mom’s out on a business trip and your dad’s probably still asleep, it’ll be a simple in-and-out recon mission, you promise you’ll run and catch up to them.

You unlock your front door slowly, so as not to potentially wake your dad up. As you pull the strap of your bag over your arm, you hear a clatter from the kitchen. You frown. Your dad isn’t exactly the most accident-prone. You quickly step over to look through the gap in the ajar doorway to investigate, and history repeats itself. Your feet cement in place as you witness the events happening in front of you at half speed. Your father is in the kitchen. Wrapped around someone who’s certainly far too young to be your mother. She’s wearing one of your dad’s button-downs. One your mom had ironed for him at the start of the week, before she left. 

Feeling absolutely sick to your stomach, you grab your keys and make a beeline for the garage, making sure to slam the door behind you. You grab your bike, turn the opposite direction to where your friends would be waiting, and pedal hard and fast. Through sheer dumb luck, skipping every stop sign and traffic light doesn’t affect you. The crisp fall air dries the tears as they form in your eyes. Once you get to school, you throw your bike somewhere amongst the others, march up the school steps and start walking the halls aimlessly. Trying desperately to find any kind of safe space for you to seek solace. You head to the music department, where it’s soundproof enough to not be too loud, and the halls are empty enough that nobody should be this far down yet to notice.

You wait until you hear the door clasp shut behind you before you finally let loose. All the chairs are still neatly stacked around the edges, and you’re not in the business of vandalism, so instead you throw your bag around, stomping laps of the room and screaming our heart out. You even go so far as to kick some of the walls with the sole of your foot. You throw yourself around the room until eventually all you can do is curl up in a heap in the middle of the floor and cry.

You hear the door latch open and look up in horror at who may have witnessed that monstrosity to see an all-too familiar face. You and the strange trailer boy had grown apart since you moved, but you’d been watching him grow up alongside you. He’s been growing his curly hair down to his shoulders, and his style grows more… “punk-rock” every year. He’s been making friends, too. They call themselves the Hellfire Club. You’re pretty sure they play that Dungeons and Dragons game. He has a band, too. Judging by the guitar slung across his back, you assume that’s why he came down here. Of course it had to be to catch you out, too.

After perching his guitar against the wall, and sliding his book bag off his shoulder and onto the floor, he shuffles out of both his denim vest and leather jacket and drapes them over you. You go to say something but he presses a finger to his lips. You do the same and he smiles gently at you, pulling his jacket around you a little more as he goes back to where his book bag landed and sits down, somehow landing cross-legged as he pulls a book out and starts to read. For the first time all day, you feel a burst of happiness when you see he’s reading The Hobbit.

The bell rings, and he pulls a face as he gestures towards the door with his head, as though silently asking whether you want to leave or not. Resigned, you slowly pull back his jacket and stand yourself up. He reaches over to grab your bag for you, and holds it up to you. You take it from him with the most grateful expression you can muster, and he smiles understandingly.

Your friends crowd you in homeroom, but you simply ask for space, for now. They comply, clearly sensing some tension, and dutifully keep prying people away from asking you what’s so clearly got you down.

You buckle down and focus on your work all morning. You hide in the bathroom during breaks. You start to lose your focus as the day goes on, which you eventually put down to not having anything to eat or drink all day, on top of losing a lot of energy with that breakdown. You head into the cafeteria and are met with a most unpleasant sight.

Most people see the basketball team squaring up against the D&D nerds. You see the captain standing menacingly in front of the strange trailer boy. Except he’s the small, scrawny thing that sits on the roof. And you don't know who he might be scared to face. But the basketball captain becomes Sarah. And then your father.

And then you scream. All eyes are on you as you march towards the captain himself. He laughs, “Do I know you?”

“No, but I know you,” you growl. “I know what you are. You’re the kind of person that has it all, and still has to shit on everything beneath him, and for what, huh? Little man needs to feel big?! It’s pathetic!” The cafeteria is silent. Hundreds of pairs of eyes are on you. One pair in particular is madly in love. Oblivious, you continue, “You know, one of these days, none of this school popularity shit is going to matter. You’re just going to be a lonely old man, who married his high school girlfriend hoping to live out his glory days forever, except they aren’t. But then you’re stuck, aren’t you? Got her knocked up, so you’ve got to stay with her. Now you’re in a loveless marriage with a kid you don’t want, but you can’t let the world know you’re anything other than the perfect childhood sweethearts, so you spend all your time at work to avoid having to come home to, heaven forbid, spend some time with the wife that didn’t stay her high school shape forever! And as you make more money, you start attracting the attention of some… Floozy who makes you feel young again, and you fucking fall for it, you put your whole lifestyle on the line until you get caught out, and thrown out. And your floozy sure isn’t going to take you into her house, so now you’re just old! And alone! And every! Body! Hates! You!” You lash out and punch his chest with every exclamation until your friends wrestle you away. 

They stay huddled around you, protecting you as the basketball team disperse. Your friends help you pick out your meal and sit with you, again warding off anyone who tries to pry. Including a strange, silent, smitten trailer boy.

At the end of the day, you tell your friends that you cycled here, so you’ll cycle home, and that you planned on a detour to avoid going home as much as possible. They coordinate between them who will host sleepovers throughout the entire week, and you hug each one of them gratefully. You throw your leg over your bike and start making your way to the one place you know you need to visit.

Just as expected, as you pull into the trailer park you can see him. He’s much easier to spot now that he’s older and taller, and his hair could be recognised a mile off. You head over to his trailer, but he doesn’t seem to notice you. You kick the side of it, and he looks over curiously, beaming widely once he sees you. “Uh, the rope won’t hold now, but you can hop in through the window and then pull up through the roof window.” 

You follow suit, not even questioning breaking and entering into a trailer that may not even be his. You’re able to pull yourself up to perch yourself on the edge of the window, and he moves to give you enough room to sit next to him. “I know it’s not… Us to talk stuff out, but what you did in the cafeteria was badass.”

You sigh, “You mean when I basically aired my family’s dirty laundry in front of the entire school?”

“I mean, when someone else gave enough of a shit about me to stick up for me,” he reaches out and puts a hand on your shoulder. “Name’s Eddie, by the way. I’m sure you’ve caught onto that by now, but I’ve never told you that myself.”

You laugh and tell him your name, “but I’m sure you knew that, too. It’s been long enough,” you both chuckle. "Hey, uh... Was it always just super weird coincidence that we always ended up in the same places?"

"In most instances, I think it was just great minds thinking alike," Eddie muses. "But, being honest," he holds his hand to his heart, "this morning I heard your friends worry about you. And usually the music room is where I go to get my shit together before the day starts. So I went on a little investigation in the hopes fate would shine on me, and sure enough," he tucks some of your hair back, "the one consistency in my life remained true."

Hearing how much he genuinely cares for you makes your heart soar. “Speaking of consistency, I know they’re long and all, but I think you’ve been reading those books of yours in the wrong order for an awful long time.”

Eddie throws his head back with laughter. “No, no, that - God, I was on my first read-through when we first met, huh? No, now I’m on my third.”

You let out a low whistle. “You must really love them.”

“Yeah, well. Using fantasy as escapism is kinda my thing,” he waves his hands around, making you laugh again. “You know, if you ever wanted, I think you could make a pretty great D&D character. I can save you a spot in Hellfire.”

You shrug, “I don’t know. All that… Acting, you have to do,” you waggle your fingers, “I have no idea how to do any of that.”

“That acting,” Eddie mirrors your gesture, “is role-playing, and it’s scarier in theory than it is in reality. Even if you wanted to sit in and watch some sessions, as something to do, we’d love to have you there.”

“We?” you ask, and Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Fine, I’d love to have you there. Happy?” His head doesn’t move, but he looks at you from the side of his eyes.

“Very,” you grin. For someone you’ve barely spoken to, you feel as though this is your best friend of years and years. Taking a chance, you crawl your hand over to meet his and try to hold it. He instantly takes yours too, weaving your fingers together. “Thank you. For… Always having my back.”

“And the same to you,” Eddie tilts his head to lightly bump against yours. “Like I always said, I know what it’s like, to just want to be… Away from all the shit in the world, and just exist in your own tiny paradise.” He squeezes your hand. “I’m glad you’re in mine.”

The sentiment is so sweet, it overwhelms you to the point where you let go of his hand to throw both your arms around his waist. He hugs you back tightly, burying his face in your hair. “I am, too,” you smile into his chest.

“You know, if you need somewhere to get away from… Whatever it is you’ve got going on, you’re always welcome here, my uncle’s basically never here, and even when he is, he’s quiet enough,” Eddie suggests.

“That’s very sweet of you, but my friends have already basically assigned me their couches, it works out as one per weeknight,” you reply with amusement before tilting your head up to look at him. “But maybe I could come over this weekend?”

He looks down at you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips that are suddenly so very close to yours. “That sounds… Perfect.” He bends his head, and once again life plays in slow motion but for once, it’s for the right reason. You tilt your head up to meet his lips with your own. Rough, chapped lips press hard against you as he squeezes his eyes shut and holds you tightly, as though this moment could possibly be fleeting enough to escape you both forevermore. 

You break away for half a second to sit yourself up more before pulling him closer by his jacket, which he seems to respond very well to. You feel the tip of his tongue poke out once again, this time tracing your own lips. You again stop, keeping your face close to his as you giggle, “Easy there, you’ve gotta have something to look forward to on Saturday, right?”

He grins against you, drawling slowly, “You… Are… Perfect.” He pulls you close for yet another kiss, this time taking the lead in holding onto your jacket to pull you down so he’s laying on his back and you’re hovering just over him, but he soon breaks it to pull you into a close embrace as the sun sets around you. With half your face buried in Eddie's chest, you watch the glowing horizon sink, remembering again the first worst day of your life. Except it can’t have been the worst. Because it was the first day you’d ever experienced the true love of simply existing together.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #*myfics

[likelylarks]

maxiel country music manifesto

okay so i just made a maxiel country music playlist and then i didn’t want to just drop a massive playlist so i felt the need to justify all the songs on it? so here’s the list! (and the playlist)

please be so proud of me for not making this playlist SO long by including taylor swift and brandi carlile because then we’d all still be here, i was SO brave and SO discerning for y’all

1. 23 - Sam Hunt

“You’ll always be my first time….in New Orleans” tell me something that doesn’t scream red bull maxiel more than that line? More than this whole song? You can’t! It’s about how no other teammate that either of them have had has been able to recapture the magic! Also max lost his virginity to daniel and that’s that, we’re starting off strong folks xx

2. Amazed - Lonestar

Daniel totally grew up listening to this song and you can’t change my mind :) he wants to slow dance with max to this song at their wedding :) everyone is like oh my god we get it you’re in love and they’re just like yeah :))))) and gaze lovingly into each other’s eyes

3. Are You Gonna Kiss Me Or Not - Thompson Square

What it says on the tin! The will they wont they! The lean in! The slight teasing! The speedrun of the song from first kiss to marriage mimicking maxiel’s internal feelings!

4. Austin - Blake Shelton

Long hair blake shelton singing about a maxiel after daniel has moved to renault and they broke up :( but are still in love and need to stop being stupid

5. Beautiful Crazy - Luke Combs

max @ daniel, no further comment

6. Better Dig Two - The Band Perry

They’re scarily obsessed with each other, max would literally rather die than get divorced, if daniel died he would die (daniel does not think about max dying bc it is Too Scary)

7. Bless the Broken Road - Rascal Flatts

Daniel and max broke up when daniel left red bull :( and it took them years and years and years to get back together :( but they did! God bless the broken road! For it was broken! But it led daniel back to max!

8. Body Like a Back Road - Sam Hunt

They fuck?

9. Break Up in the End - Cole Swindell

They broke up :( but no amount of love is ever love that is wasted, and there is never a world where they could regret being with each other - or they were never together and this is about daniel breaking up with red bull and how he’d still do it all over again because when it was good it was Good

10. Buy Dirt - Jordan Davis, Luke Bryan

This is vineyard au daniel’s favorite country song, loves the land and the grapes and making max happy with what he grows there

11. Check Yes or No - George Strait

Very cute, very sweet! Also can very much see a high off his ass daniel writing a little check yes or no note and passing it to max and looking at him with wide eyes, pupils blown out huge and not looking away from max’s face as max, also high off his ass, checks a box with shaky hands and shoves the paper back at daniel, and daniel looks down and max checked yes and daniel says “cool” and then max has to be the one to kiss him

12. Colder Weather - Zac Brown Band

I love daniel but he is a ramblin man and he aint ever gonna change, he’s got a —- soul to blame and he was born for leavin, i think the first few months, maybe even years would have been really hard because max wouldn’t understand why daniel couldn’t just be happy right where they were all the time

13. Die a Happy Man - Thomas Rhett

Max has an unending faith that daniel will win a c-word, daniel tells him he doesn’t need one (it would be nice but he doesn’t need it) when he has max

14. Fancy Like - Walker Hayes

I think it’s amusing to imagine millionaires going to apples bees (spelling intentional, that’s how i pronounce it to make my dad fondly roll his eyes) and i think daniel would like to pretend that he would be comfortable there

15. Fast Cars and Freedom - Rascal Flatts

“You don’t look a day over fast cars and freedom” daniel @ max and his perpetual baby face, also peak vibes but i can’t describe the vibes you just gotta listen and then you’ll get the vibes

16. Forever After All - Luke Combs

Many things don’t last forever, max and daniel wouldn’t know anything about that xoxo

17. From the Ground Up - Dan + Shay

It’s about building a family and building a life and the safety and security that comes with it! It’s about choosing each other over and over and over for the rest of their lives

18. half of my hometown (feat. Kenny Chesney) - Kelsea Ballerini

No matter how far he goes, how fancy a house he gets in LA, or how famous he gets, there’s always going to be a part of daniel that’s still that goofy kid from duncraig in perth

19. Head Over Boots - Jon Pardi

Did y’all ever see that video of the chick lip syncing this song to her girlfriend while her gf drives? That’s maxiel

20. Highwayman - The Highwaymen

It is my personal belief this song is on daniel’s ancient ipod, i will be accepting no criticism at this time or ever, also it’s about cycles and storytelling and can we ever go back?

21. I Don’t Want This Night to End - Luke Bryan

They’re hooking up! Don’t want it to be over because then they have to acknowledge they just slept with their teammate! Does not stop them from hooking up again and again!

22. I Got the Boy - Jana Kramer

Slightly to the left of reality where max is still with kelly but he did date daniel when he was younger, daniel is sad :( but there’s a part of max that will always be his so he won, he guesses.

23. In Case You Didn’t Know - Brett Young

Daniel @ max when max says smth stupid about how daniel doesn’t need him as much as max needs daniel

24. It’s Five O’Clock Somewhere - Alan Jackson, Jimmy Buffett

I couldn’t resist? Essential listening?

25. I Want Crazy - Hunter Hayes

They’re insane about each other! Max does not realize this is not normal! Daniel knows this is not normal and does not care!

26. I Will Always Love You - Dolly Parton

Daniel leaving red bull, gifting the number one driver spot to max (as much as it was his to give), what greater act of love (for max, for himself) than to leave?

27. Jolene - Dolly Parton

Max @ every woman who ever looks at daniel for longer than 0.3 seconds

28. Just a Kiss - Lady A

Put them wherever you’d like, the vibes are there! Idk they’re in high school and they’re lying in a field somewhere, max pointing up at all the constellations, daniel keeps humming like he’s listening, but really he’s turned over on his side and he’s just looking at max (they planned to go all the way tonight, for the first time), max is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, max eventually lowers his arms and looks over at daniel only to find him already looking, “daniel, will you kiss me”

29. Knee Deep (feat. Jimmy Buffett) - Zac Brown Band

I couldn’t resist? Essential listening?

30. Lady - Brett Young

SORRY but max is the most excellent mother, we all been knew, daniel been knew, etc.

31. Live Like You Were Dying - Tim McGraw

is this not the formula one thesis?

32. The Long Way - Brett Eldredge

Daniel showing max around perth

33. Love You Like I Used To - Russell Dickerson

Every day they are more in love! I don’t make the rules!

34. Made for You - Jake Owen

They were made for each other, they were made to be parents, etc. i do not make the rules, i simply find the country songs that reflect them

35. Margaritaville - Jimmy Buffett

I couldn’t resist? Essential listening?

36. Marry Me - Thomas Rhett

In the music video she shows up at the diner where the best friend has run off to and does NOT marry the guy and that’s the plot we’re going with - the vibes are similar to @abedsmessedupmeta ‘s catalog of non-definitive acts on ao3 (washtheseghostsclean)

37. More Hearts Than Mine - Ingrid Andress

Daniel taking max home to perth and everyone loving max and max being like what if we break up and daniel is like well then you’ll make everyone sad so we should just stay together forever

38. My Girl - Dylan Scott

Daniel is stupidly in love with max, hope this helps

39. My Wish - Rascal Flatts

It’s a good song, and they just love each other y’all, they want the very best for each other

40. Night Train - Jason Aldean

Idk put them in the just a kiss high school scenario again or idk i get come on, star boy ( @yekoc) vibes but like while daniel is at bama and max is still in high school, there’s just something about train whistles mixed with cicadas, nothing quite like it, they’d have fun making out to it

41. Nobody But You (Duet with Gwen Stefani) - Blake Shelton

When this song came on the radio i had to one hand drive down the interstate so i could shazam it so i could keep it because the maxiel vibes were so strong, they’re insane about each other thank you for coming to my ted talk

42. Play It Again - Luke Bryan

Max watching daniel dance stupidly at some house party, thinking he’s the most incredible person in the world

43. Remind Me (with Carrie Underwood) - Brad Paisley

Daniel to renault then mclaren, it’s been so long since they’ve been together, they fall right back into as soon as they let themselves, as easy as breathing

44. Sand In My Boots - Morgan Wallen

Daniel meets max while max is hitchhiking through australia? And max says he’d like to see perth but then he has to get on a flight and go back to europe and daniel goes home to perth alone (max comes back to australia, visits all the places daniel told him about hoping to see him, he does)

45. See You When I See You - Jason Aldean

Daniel leaving red bull, promising max they’d still be friends, max curling daniel’s fingers around the fuel scented candle, saying see you later

46. Setting the World On Fire (with P!NK) - Kenny Chesney

Remember that time they saw each other in passing in LA? Idk they met up that night bc they’re in love and young and beautiful and deserve to be drunk and pretty in LA together

47. She’s Everything - Brad Paisley

Daniel @ max, max @ daniel, hope this helps

48. Something to Be Proud Of - Montgomery Gentry

Cannot convince me that daniel did not grow up listening to this song, he hears it again while they’re in austin, while they’re doing that stupid PR video, he takes his hat off and puts it on max, sings under his breath, max is the life he can hang his hat on

49. Speechless - Dan + Shay

Max is the most beautiful person daniel has ever seen ever in his life! Daniel is the most beautiful person max has ever seen ever in his life! Sometimes they get overwhelmed! I would too!

50. Strawberry Wine - Deana Carter

Daniel took max’s virginity :)

51. Take Your Time - Sam Hunt

This is how it starts! Fun! Casual! And then, of course, they do want to take each other’s hearts and call each other baby :)

52. Tennessee Whiskey - Chris Stapleton

Max is as sweet as strawberry wine (see above), but also, there’s a lot of ways that daniel could cope that are unhealthy, instead he goes home to max

53. That Ain’t My Truck - Rhett Akins

DANIEL IS MY GIRL !!!! MY WHOLE WORLD!!! MCLAREN IS NOT MY TRUCK!!!

54. Think of You - Chris Young, Cassadee Pope

They’re a package deal even when they’re not (“they still call you daniel”)

55. Toes - Zac Brown Band

I couldn’t resist? Essential listening?

56. Unanswered Prayers - Brooks Jefferson (IT’S TECHNICALLY GARTH BROOKS but he doesn’t have, like anything on spotify???? King??? Why???? This is NOT the first time this has been a problem, everyone please go listen to the original, the cover is just on the playlist for posterity)

Idk something about the way that daniel was with his high school girlfriend until 2016/2017 (i can’t remember exactly when they split), and then wasn’t seriously with someone for A While IRL, and then to make it maxiel (bc that’s what i’m doing here), something about how daniel probably really wanted it to work and then he met max and was glad it wasn’t working, and then got to be with max, and years later runs into jemma and is so fucking glad he didn’t try and stick it out because max is literally everything

57. Wanted - Hunter Hayes

I just think there are different ways and different times where they have felt unwanted but never by each other

58. Waves - Luke Bryan

If you ask daniel, max was made for summer and being under the southern hemisphere’s stars; if you ask max, he’d say the same about daniel. And that’s love baybee

59. You’re Gonna Miss This - Trace Adkins

It’s maxiel as parents, it’s maxiel as some of the most established drivers on the grid, it’s maxiel reminding each other to enjoy their triumphs as they happen

60. Yours - Russell Dickerson

They love each other :)

#maxiel #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #i worked so hard on this lol like too hard on this

[toffeelemon]

idflolibn chapter 10 gatorade pov🐈‍⬛

happy birthday to prince simon in @prince-simon ‘s fic here’s some angsty cat pov

(here’s the last gatorade pov)

Something’s wrong with my human. He’s always in bed, and his face is always leaky. He’s sick. Floppy Head is taking care of him, but he’s not getting better.

They haven’t come home for days now. Maybe Fluffy Head is at the vet. Grandma from downstairs came to me last night, feeding me double portions and making me promise not to tell my dads.

I love grandma. But I miss Floppy Head. (And Fluffy Head too, I guess.)

I’m scared. Fluffy Head seems really sick. He can’t die before me. I thought humans lived very long!

They finally come home, and I scream at Fluffy Head for leaving me home alone for so long. I thought he died! How dare he!

Fluffy Head’s face crumples. He falls onto his legs, and his face is all leaky. His human pets him on the head, getting onto the floor too and holding him close. Is something wrong with Fluffy Head’s legs, why are they not working? Did someone hurt him?

(Humans can be so, so bad. Fluffy Head is an asshole, but whoever hurt him, I’ll rip their eyes out. Only I can bully my human.)

Fluffy Head keeps calling for my name. His face is leaking, the way when he’s very sad. I can understand that. I hate going to the vet too.

I almost feel bad for him, so I let his human pick me up and put me in Fluffy Head’s lap. Fluffy Head slides his paw on my back, scratching the top of my head. It’s not as nice as when Floppy Head does it. My human does it all wrong - my fur is sticking up on wrong ends. But I let him do it for a while, until I’m sure he’s not dying, and I escape again, pushing at his paw.

Fluffy Head makes an angry noise, and I hiss back at him. That’s more like it. I’m glad he got some life back in him.

Even Floppy Head looks tired. Fluffy Head is in bed all day, and Floppy Head spends his time talking to me, or talking to himself, and huffing unhappily all the time. I glare at him but he doesn’t stop.

The house is filled with a bad mood. I might not understand human noises, but I can feel it.

My human and his human are fighting. I watch from above on the top of my tower, the one with scratchy and fluffy bits that Floppy Head brought home for me a few months ago. From up here, my dads look like tiny kittens.

Humans don’t hit each other when they fight. They’re holding each other, but they’re screaming and crying. Floppy Head’s face is leaking when he leaves.

Fluffy Head stays in the middle of the room, standing still with his face leaking too.

I jump off the tower and loiter around Fluffy Head’s feet. I ask him if Floppy Head’s coming back. He shrugs, face screwed up together and rubbing his eyes with a paw.

His sadness is contagious. I want to yell at him, but I’m worried too. What if Floppy Head doesn’t come back, and my human is sad and sick forever? He won’t abandon Fluffy Head like this, right?

Fluffy Head would never abandon me. Surely his human won’t abandon him either.

I make a sad noise, and Fluffy Head assumes I’m hungry, emptying a tin into my bowl whilst still moping. I’m not going to complain about more food, so I eat. He squats in front of me, folding all his paws together and watching me dejectedly. I let him pet my head once or twice.

He keeps talking to me. I assume he’s asking me if his human will come home or not. I say yes even though I don’t know the truth, and he won’t understand anyway.

I put Fluffy Head to bed. He fell asleep curled up on the sofa, and I jumped on him, urging him to go sleep in his bed instead. He’s always sleepy nowadays. I hope the sleep will make him heal faster.

I wait for Floppy Head to come home. I’m almost asleep when he’s here, and I call out for him. He cuddles me for a while, and I’m just glad that he’s back.

My human’s mama came to take care of them both. I think it’s his mama - brown skin, fluffy hair. I’m glad she’s giving Floppy Head cuddles - he looks like he’s going to be sick too. I don’t know how to take care of humans. She feeds both of my humans, and she snuck me a little piece of beef too.

Fluffy Mama stays in the house for a day or two, and she looks like she might take Floppy Head for a walk. (I hate being taken on walks - but Floppy Head should definitely go on one.)

Floppy Head carries me to bed, and tells me ‘take care of dad, okay?’ I meow at him, butting my head into his paw to tell him I understood.

My human has been curled up in bed for days now. He didn’t even touch his food. I curl up at the end of the bed, and his cold back paw pushes gently at my belly. I don’t move, and I let him keep his paw there.

He stops fidgeting and sleeps a bit more, making small noises and curling up on his side, until his human comes back.

I hope Dad gets better soon. I miss him when he was better.

#prince simon au #CAT FIRST POV #again i am clown #i always wanna write something in pscu but i get intimidated and end up writing cat pov instead #gatorade #my beloved #prince simon cinematic universe

[scrimblyprimbly]

The night was sluicing rain like someone had left a spigot on at the acid factory; fat drops mixed with ash mixed with depression slammed incessant and irritated against the window pane, the noise of water against sheetrock and tin interrupted only by earsplitting claps of thunder. It was the type of night that bid anyone without express business to attend to – and witnesses to verify they attended to it – stay indoors.

Unfortunately for the man seated before him, Wilbur had never been shy about being where he wasn’t expected to be, and while everyone else cowered in their homes, he boldly strode, rain beading off the edges of his floor-length brown trench coat, feet eating up ground through the streets of West Pinne as if he owned them.

Which, in a sense, he did.

“Thank you for coming to our meeting,” Wilbur started, gesturing first to his left and to the right, though he was only talking to one person. It was a new thing he was trying out, being polite; his dad had made a comment about how he could improve at his job, and Wilbur was taking it to heart. A flash of lightning illuminated his silhouette and those of the thirty-something year old wise guy before him for a brief second, the others’ steely, skeptic gaze having been beaten into something more respectful only a few seconds before.

There was a pause.

“I said, thank you for coming to our meeting,” Wilbur repeated, slightly louder, re-performing the welcoming motion of his hands, and the man across from him realized he was expected to respond. Though he was completely lost as to what to say.

“I- what do you want from me?”

“You’re welcome.”

“…What?”

“I said, thank you for coming to our meeting,” Wilbur coached patiently, making sure to slow down the pace of his words so that he would be clearly understood, “and now you say, ‘You’re welcome.’ It’s polite.”

“Okay, you can fuck off-”

A blow landed squarely across the man’s face, dealt from Wilbur’s partner for the evening, and again, not for the first time that night, the man in the chair was reminded of the true extent to which he was out of his depth. His assailant had to be ten years his younger at least, but he was ordering around a partner with a right hook like a rocket-

“I meant, “You’re welcome,”” the man breathed shakily, panting through the pain.

Wilbur nodded approvingly.

“Can I get you anything?” he continued.

And what kind of sick game was this? The man strained against his restraints but it was no use; the partner had done the knots tighter than a vice- “Let- me- go!” came the strangled reply, the captive fighting against both his restraints and the urge to scream in frustration. He was used to dealing out the discipline, not receiving it. And if someone would only tell him what he was being disciplined for-

Another pause, as Wilbur considered it.

“Can I get you anything except your release? I meant more like snacks, or water…”

“If you’re trying to mess with my head, it’s not working, you sick, twisted, British f-” the man stopped himself just in time, the memory of the previous repercussions of cursing still strong in his jaw- “Fiend-” he gasped out weakly.

“Hey!” Wilbur snapped, stepping forward with a 6-foot-5 stride that filled the space between them easily, bending down to eye level with his captive, “That’s enough lip.”

“Nonono- You’re not a fiend-” the man started to correct, wary of another blow, but he shouldn’t have bothered-

“No one calls me British and gets away with it,” Wilbur glowered. “I’m from Utah.”

The seated man’s head began to spin. As much from the situation he was in as the bizarre responses, the unhinged interaction he was having with his captor. Who was this man before him? Who had the ability to infiltrate a locked, guarded business at night? The temerity to attack a made member of a notorious crime family? And why was he playing mind games--??

And oh-

Suddenly it struck him. He’d heard tales of interactions like these… rumours. Nothing concrete, as no one directly involved in these types of interactions seemed to survive them, but he’d heard tell of strange captivities and stranger interactions…. And immediately, his stomach dropped with fear, the realization that he might not survive this encounter taking hold.

“Are you… are- are you…” the man stammered, barely able to form the words between the terrified chattering of his teeth, “T- T- Technoblade?”

And Wilbur approved of the question, glad that the other was finally starting to appreciate the gravity of the situation. Nevertheless, he was trying to be polite, and he had to admit, “No.” And for good measure, just so it was clear, he counseled wisely, “There’s no such thing as “Technoblade”. It’s a myth- a rumour. I am Wilbur, Wilbur Soot. And what I am is far worse, because I am real-”

“WHAT?!” Anger erupted from the shadow of the corner bookcases, and for a moment Wilbur could’ve sworn the shelf itself had spoken, because no one else could have been present- his partner had personally scoped out the room before the meeting began to make sure it was empty-

“HIM?!” The new voice, husky, outraged, continued, and the outline of a figure appeared within the shadows, face shrouded by a hood, feet the only portion caught by instreaming moonlit rays, “You think HE is what counts as TECHNOBLADE?!”

The newcomer was tall, judging from the shifting shadows, easily Wilbur’s height and maybe a bit more, but he was wearing boots, and to Wilbur’s eyes, that was cheating-

“Did you see his form?” The booted man addressed the restrained victim and him alone from the corner of the room, ignoring Wilbur and his partner entirely. Which was rude and not in line with the politeness Wilbur was looking to foster- though he hesitated to bring this up immediately, opting to exchange glances with his partner instead because he was sure he had cleared the room- “He’s offering you snacks and water in the middle of an interrogation. Technoblade would never be kind! Violence! Violence is his brand, no mercy, do you understand???!!”

The man in the seat stared bewilderedly between his previous captors and the newest addition in the darkness of the room.

“Do. You. Understand???” Came the voice, increasingly beleaguered.

The newcomer was desperate, genuinely upset, if Wilbur was correctly judging from the way his hands came up to his hooded face in frustration-

“Who are you?” Wilbur finally decided to challenge. Whoever it was had enough skill to evade notice for this long, and so was worth the introduction. But Wilbur didn’t perceive a threat. Just a fool who needed to be relocated.

“You don’t know much about him, do you?” the shadowy figure continued, completely ignoring the question, then paused, as if considering his own words. “Well, I don’t blame you. Not many people are capable of rising from the dead to discuss their meetings with the Blade. Okay- here’s what you need to know. First of all, Technoblade is a pig. Like a boar-”

“WHO ARE YOU?” Wilbur repeated, stepping closer to the shadows, but keeping enough distance to be outside of what he judged to be four or five arm lengths of the stranger. Just in case.

“And to be clear, pigs are pink. Whoever this is has never heard of a color that is not brown, and there are a few, I can give you a website-” Wilbur got the sense he was being gestured at, though he couldn’t see it clearly in the darkness.

“How did you get in here?” he interrupted instead.

“YEARS!” the man growled, voice in lament and distinctly agitated as he began to pace the shadows of the room, “YEARS he spends carefully, painstakingly, lovingly crafting a reputation of blood and death, only to have a wimp and his sidekick mistaken for -”

“Hey-” the partner broke through, speaking for the first time since the meeting began, “I’m not a sidekick, bitch!”

“NO!” The shadowed man rounded on the partner, and he was definitely pointing now; Wilbur glimpsed his hand beneath the cloak, “It’s: “I’m not a sidekick, SWINE!” Technoblade is a PIG! Not a DOG! Bitch is dog! SWINE IS PIG!”

“Ask me if I give a single shit,” the partner retorted, whipping off his own face covering in challenge.

“Oh, oh,” the hooded man returned, throwing his hands up in defeat as he took in the partner. “They let kids do this now. Okay, alright, okay. It’s fine.” He buried his face in his hands. “Oh how the mighty have fallen…It’s okay. It’s okay, I’m being paid.”

“I’m going to ask you once more, and then I’m going to handle it,” Wilbur menaced, though he knew it was impolite. It’s just that he had somewhere to be after this, and thought it would be rude to be late, “Find a door and use it- we’re in the middle of an interrogation-”

“See that’s your problem! Techno would never ‘ask once more’, what’s the point in asking permission when you’re going to kill them anyway?”

“WHY DO YOU CARE SO DAMN MUCH ABOUT TECHNOBLADE?!” Wilbur screamed over the open whimper of their captive, a clap of thunder punctuating his venom.

 The newcomer fell silent for the first time since making his presence known, then stepped slowly into the light, his form seeming to materialize in the night as his lips turned gradually upward in a slow, wolfish smile.

He reached up to remove his hood, and lengths of hair fell from beneath as it went, which struck Wilbur like lightning, though not because of its length, which reached his shoulder blades with ease, but because of its shade, which, he took in with a sharp breath he couldn’t seem to release, was a shocking shade of pink.

Wilbur’s heart sank.

“Tommy…” he said quietly, “Tommy…”

“We have to go.”

#wilbur soot #technoblade #sbi #fanfiction #mcyt fic #scrimbly scrawls

[snazzymallards]

Chapter One - Hannah’s POV

“Mia, breakfast time!” I called, with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. 

I looked hopelessly through the bare cupboards, willing them to miraculously fill with lots of delicious food. The only food we had left was a tin of baked beans, some stale bread, a small knob of butter, and a half-empty box of Aldi own-brand cornflakes. Honestly, I had no idea how much longer we were going to be able to cope: my younger 10-year-old sister, Mia, was autistic and struggled with change, so my older sister Amy and I had been trying to act as if everything was completely normal for as long as possible, but things were getting worse. Dad was working as many hours as possible, but we were still struggling to keep up with food and energy payments. 

Mia entered the kitchen, still in her pyjamas and clutching her beloved Luna plushie (from Sailor Moon, one of her special interests.) She sat down at the dining table, looking at the ground. 

“Are you okay?” I asked. 

“No electricity,” she mumbled. 

I sighed - I’d really hoped she hadn’t seen the £0.00 on the electricity meter. Her tablet was really important to her, because it allowed her to watch Sailor Moon and use her text-to-speech app when she went non-verbal, so suffice to say she had been hit pretty bad by the lack of electricity. 

“No, there’s no electricity, but you won’t need electricity because you can do some school work today!” I replied cheerily. 

As a result of being unable to cope in mainstream school yet not being eligible for a place at a ‘special’ school, we had taken to ‘homeschooling’ Mia. In theory, this meant that Mum was supposed to be teaching her the same content that other children Mia’s age were learning, but in practice it just meant that Mia spent most days laying on the floor in her bedroom and doing nothing. I saw Mia’s potential though - she was hyperlexic so could easily teach herself new things by reading about them, and she was very well-educated on politics and psychology (her other special interests) - so I was determined for her to at least do something while she was at home. A few days prior, I’d managed to stealthily sneak one of the GCSE Psychology workbooks at school into my backpack, and I’d brought it home for her. 

“Do you want to see what I’ve got for you?” I asked her. 

She simply continued to stare at the table. Before I could press her further, Amy burst into the kitchen with her phone squashed between her ear and her shoulder, and a pile of ring binder folders in her arms. Instead of her usual sixth form uniform, she was wearing a crisp white shirt, a black blazer, a black pencil skirt, and shiny black patent high heels. Her brown and blonde ombré hair had been tied up into a neat bun, and she was wearing more makeup than usual. 

“...Yes, I should be able to make it for 9am if I set off right now,” she said, in a very serious tone. 

“Amy-” I began. 

She scowled at me and waved her hand at me dismissively. 

“And will I be reimbursed for my bus fare?” she continued, barely even acknowledging me. 

Amy had always been - let’s just say…difficult - but in the past few weeks she had just been getting worse and worse. As a child I was used to telling me what to do when playing games, or telling me off for not doing my homework as if she were the parent, or telling Mia off for putting things in her mouth, but I wasn’t used to this. It seemed like sixth form was her entire life: she was constantly on the phone to someone discussing university offers and job interviews, and she spent a significant amount of time studying for her upcoming A-levels. When she wasn’t preoccupied with ‘important’ phone calls or sixth form work, she was lecturing Mia and I for using too much electricity or eating too much food or not pulling our weight around the house. Suffice to say, she made me want to scream into a pillow lately. 

Rolling my eyes at her, I decided it was time to make some breakfast, so I grabbed a bowl and poured the rest of the cornflakes into it. Unfortunately, there was barely enough left to fill one bowl, let alone two. 

Great, what’s Mia going to eat?

Before I could make a decision, she grabbed the bowl of cornflakes and started scooping them up with her hands. 

“Mia, that was for me!” I protested. “I have to go to school, I need breakfast!”

“Hungry,” she muttered, spluttering cornflakes everywhere. 

Amy suddenly moved her phone from her ear. 

“Can you two stop arguing?” she hissed. “I’m in the middle of an important phone call.”

She put the phone back to her ear and continued talking in a very solemn tone. 

As much as I would have loved cornflakes for breakfast, I conceded and decided that things were much more difficult for Mia and she should be the one to get treats, so I began inspecting the stale bread. 

Great, it’s covered in mould. 

I was absolutely famished, so I grabbed a knife to start scraping the mould off. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the time on the radio clock:

07:47

Fuck. 

I dropped the bread back onto the kitchen counter and grabbed my backpack. 

“Be good, okay?” I said to Mia, waving goodbye to her. 

I quickly retrieved the psychology workbook and tossed it at her, before running out of the door and down the street towards school. 

[matan4il]

Buddie and clothes in 513

Right, I don’t usually write about clothes in my weekly Buddie meta posts. A part of it is that I think some choices are very meaningful on the show, and some might be random. Like name meanings, some are SO important (like Evan, from the Hebrew name Yochanan, meaning ‘God has graced’, there is so much to unpack there! Or even his nickname ‘Buck’ bringing up the image of an animal with such formidable antlers that it can seem quite intimidating, but in reality most of the time it’s pretty docile, timid even. Still noble, and it’s worth acquiring its trust), but some aren’t (Carla, which comes from the Germanic word for ‘man’. I... don’t think 911 is trying to tell us Carla is secretly a man). Sometimes the clothes choices do strike me as VERY meaningful (like when we see Eddie wearing his nicest clothes for Buck in their flirtatious kitchen scene in 309). I thought 513 was one of those cases, however, I already crammed so much into my weekly meta for the ep, that I left out the topic of clothes.

But then the beautiful @mytherapybuddie​ and a lovely anon who signed their ask with “- forever screaming” asked me to write about this, so here we are.

TBH, the first thing that grabbed at my brain was Eddie’s shirt in the breakdown scene. Listen, I’m an army vet (service is mandatory here) and those specific shades of faded green are hardwired into my brain. This is def an army-colored T-shirt, possibly even an actual one left from his army days (I too still have some army clothes that can double as civilian ones and which I wear on occasion). So of course I noticed that!

And my first thought was the show really wants to give his army past presence in this scene. But as it continued to play out, I also thought back to a gifset I made showing Eddie self-hugging in moments when he needs comfort, but can’t ask for it. It’s such a clear gesture, because not only does Eddie cross his hands in front of him, he’s also hunched forward just a bit, almost like he's stopping himself from going into the fetal position. When I made the gifset, I already noticed the repeated use of these shades of green during the break up with Ana and the talk with Bobby, but the breakdown scene really brought it full circle. In all of these scenes, Eddie is wearing his psychological “armor”, that “tough guy” mentality his dad first drilled into him and the army later reinforced. This is the only way he’s been taught how to deal with emotional pain, so that’s what he’s clinging to.

But the presence of this same color in Eddie’s shirt during the breakdown is even more heartbreaking, because that makes it clear that the army isn’t just the place that provided Eddie with his “armor”, it’s also a big part of the reason why Eddie needs one. It’s a bit like that girl in a Swedish children’s book (not sure what they called her when they translated the book into English) where she puts a tin can over her head to protect it in case she falls. Of course because she can’t see where she’s going with a tin can over her head, she stumbles and falls. She sits up and takes off the tin can. “See?” She asks her friends triumphantly. “Who knows what would have happened to me if I hadn’t put it on?...”

Then another thing that really stood out to me about these three scenes is that in the first two, Eddie is self-hugging after the conversation is over. But during the breakdown scene? He first confesses to Buck what’s wrong with him, next he self-hugs, but then they talk. And by the time they’re done, Eddie’s hands are down, they’re not a barrier between him and the other person anymore, he’s open and raw and vulnerable, he’s cried in front of Buck, allowing him to see Eddie doing exactly what everyone taught him he must never do, not even when he’s alone. The complete trust here leaves me SHAKING (and the way it’s been A JOURNEY, as I said in the 513 meta. Eddie didn’t call Buck over, but Chris did. And Chris could do that because Eddie HAS trusted Buck with his kid, over and over again. Buck is there for him, because Eddie has chosen repeatedly to allow all three of them to become one family unit. Before the scene is over, that indirect trust through Chris becomes direct trust in Buck, because Eddie could have calmed down after his breakdown, he could have gotten upset over how Buck saw him, he could have kicked out his best friend and pretended none of this had happened. Which would have been more in line with what he was taught to do. But he doesn’t. He trusts Buck fully). And even though Eddie trusting Buck and talking to him has not yet resolved anything, it does have a healing quality all on its own and leaves Eddie, for the first time, being honest and not having to self-hug in the last shot of the ep.

How about Buck’s clothes? He comes into Eddie’s house wearing a combination of very vibrant red and dark blue.

These are two of the three basic colors, and as such, they clash dramatically. Shows are much more likely to dress characters in a bright, basic color together with a neutral one, like black, but instead here they chose to have Buck wearing these two conflicting colors. Why? Maybe to express his inner turmoil when he sees Eddie falling apart. I think Buck has always looked up to Eddie, it’s both why Buck in 201 was both so intimidated by him and, after just one compliment, so taken in by him. So I think this is a truly difficult moment for him as well, and he was probably understating it when he said that Chris wasn’t the only one who was scared.

But at the same time, I also thought that the contrast serves to make the red even brighter. Chris is also in a really bright color in this scene, specifically yellow, which is the third basic color.

That made me consider that maybe the show wanted to demonstrate how together, Buck and Chris complete each other in this scene. They both work together to help Eddie. The yellow choice for Chris also reminded me of the tsunami. He was literally this sunshine kid that cheered Buck up, especially in 302, and made him feel like things can get better even when the present appears grim. But then Chris and Buck both being in these colors also contrasts with Eddie, whose T-shirt is a very faded shade of green. Almost tired (interestingly, the clothes soldiers wear to battle are called ‘fatigues’, actually coming from the word for tiredness). Depressed people, who are struggling to hold on, drowning in their pain, are often shown in such muted colors (just think of Maddie in 512, for example). The vibrancy in Buck and Christopher’s clothes might mean they represent the appeal of life for Eddie in spite of everything, their call for him to try even when he’s so tired, to just keep swimming.

IDK, this is all from a very personal perspective, based on my wild associations. There are so many different, valid interpretations, my word is def not the Gospel Truth. But thank you so much for reading! And for any show of support, it’s always so appreciated. xoxox

(if it’s okay, I also wanna take a second to do a small shoutout to the sweet @judsonryder​, @evaneddie​, @aa-lionheart​​ and @buckleyirondad​​. You helped me with Photoshop and my confidence about using it, so I could edit some screencaps to add to this post. Thank you all for that! xoxox)

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