#and by everywhere I mean. upstairs & downstairs.​ & on my mother’s bed.

[saltwaterburns]

Hey, would you write Anthony Lockwood x reader,in which for the cause they have to pretend to be married? Lockwood gives her an engagement ring and his mother's wedding ring, and he wears his father's wedding ring. Thanks in advance😊

two times you kissed him and the one time he kissed you

warnings: the usage of y/n a few times, i apologise

pairing: anthony lockwood x fem!reader

a/n: i loved writing this. that's all i have to say

"So while Lockwood and Y/N distract Penelope, Lucy swoops into the Black Library and snatches the "Book of Death". Meanwhile I'll be downstairs on the lookout! Isn't it just the most brilliant plan?" George exclaims excitedly, but he's met with silence. It's suffocating, and you could almost hear a needle drop to the ground.

"So...me and Lockwood have to pretend to be married?" You ask after a bit, emphasising the marriage part. "How on Earth can we pull that off convincingly?"

"You really do wound me, love. You don't think we could pull it off?" Lockwood chimes in, your cheeks heating up at the pet name that rolls off his tongue so ridiculously well.

"No, no that! Just, we're quite young, aren't we? How are we going to explain our reasoning to, conjoin?"

"She does have a fair point." Lucy adds thoughtfully, and you smile at the red haired girl. This could be your ticket out of this. "You could tell anyone who asks that the ghost hunting field is life threatening and you wanted get married in case one of you won't make it past the age of 25?"

Before you can even get a word in to object, maybe think of another way, both of the boys agree. You sigh defeatedly.

"So, that's settled then! The ball is in a few hours so we should go and get outselves ready. Y/N, come with me."

You tell Lucy you'll be up in a few minutes to help her do her hair and follow Lockwood upstairs to his room. You've only been there a couple of times to tend to his injuries after particularly hard cases, so going in there without a proper purpose made the butterflies in your tummy go wild.

He opens the door for you and you step in, your eyes trailing over the bookshelves, his messy bed, clothes that are scattered everywhere. It looks messy, but feels organized in a sense.

He shuts the door with a soft click and motions for you to go and sit on the bed. You do so and he disappears for a few seconds, coming back with something in his hand. It's a soft looking velvety case and it reminds you of those ring holding boxes.

Oh.

Oh.

The mattress dips as he sits down next to you, heat emitting from his body, making your heart flutter. Even while sitting down, he's a head taller than you.

He opens the small case and between the cushions, you spot two rings. One of them is a golden wedding band, decorated by a small diamond thats glimmering in the sunlight shining through the window. The second one is more dainty, thinner and blessed with a matching diamond. Your breath catches in your throat.

"These belonged to my parents. I don't think I ever saw them without wearing these. They've got engravings inside as well, 'Forever Yours'. I got them back after they.." he trails off, not wanting to finish the sentence. You understand and grab his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"All of this is only for the case, Lockwood. We don't have to use these. I know they mean the world to you. What if something happens to them?" You murmur, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. He shakes his head and takes the dainty ring out, gently taking ahold of your left hand and sliding it onto your ring finger. You could've sworn your heart skipped a beat.

"Want to do the honours?" He asks and chuckles, offering you the case. You grin and take the second ring, sliding it onto his ring finger. In a moment of boldness, you bring his hand up to your mouth and press a kiss onto the ring. The metal is cool against your lips.

"They're beautiful, Lockwood. Thank you for trusting me with this." You say, and he smiles.

"You're welcome. We have to act convincingly, don't we? You should go and get ready now, we don't have a lot of time."

You leave his room and walk upstairs, buzzing with excitement. But when Lucy asks what you two were up to as you're doing her hair, you can't help but shrug it off.

Your hand is tightly clasped together with his as you're making your way through the crowd, Lucy having disappeared already and George nowhere to be seen. People are stopping to congratulate you and you feel like your cheeks are permanently painted red, aching from smiling so much.

The chattering that's coming from every corner of the huge room quietens down as miss Penelope Fittes makes her appearance, the silver sequins on her dress glimmering like a mirrorball. She stands on the edge of the balcony a few floors above you, looking around the room of prey, her being the only hunter.

Lockwood squeezes your hand and pulls you against his chest, his hands falling to your hips. You can feel Penelope's gaze burning into the back of your head and knowing that she's watching, you stand up to the tips of your toes and press your lips against Anthony's.

For a second, you forget why you're doing this, where you are, and who's watching. Him and his soft lips are the only thing on your mind, the way he tastes like mint and peach driving you crazy, leaving you addicted.

He's the first one to pull away. You almost frown but manage to keep your expression light, turning back around. She's begun her ascent down the main marble staircase, her sharp heels clicking. Now you can only hope she'll come to congratulate you.

"Mr. Lockwood, Ms. Y/L/N! What a lovely surprise to see you here. Oh my, are those wedding rings I spot?" She asks sweetly, Lockwood giving her one of his signature smiles.

"Yes actually, Ms. Fittes. Me and Y/N got married a few weeks ago. We just thought that in this line of work, we never know if we'll make it out alive."

You hear what he's saying, but you dont listen. Your hands are clasped together and the light is hitting his face so perfectly, his sharp features in harmony with his softer ones. He's like an angel sculpted by Michelangelo.

Penelope bids you farewell and with a polite smile moves on to another group, their dresses and suits much more expensive looking and their laughs much more fake. You really hope Lucy has gotten the book.

As if on cue, you spot her hastily walking down the stairs, a hoard of security guards following her. Lockwood sees her as well and pulls you with him, apologies spilling from your lips whenever you bump into someone.

He grabs your hips and pushes you against a pillar, your breath hitching in your throat. He's panting a little, his intense eyes looking straight into yours.

"I'm going to pull the fire alarm that's right next to your head, but I'm going to be kissing you while I do it so it's not as suspicious. Is that okay?" He asks quietly, his breath tickling your neck. You nod silently, unable to get a word out.

He pulls away, lips mere inches from yours. You're looking up at him, doe eyes wide and curious. His heart skips a beat, his stomach fluttering. He offers you a breathless chuckle and cups your cheek, kissing you for the second time that night. Fireworks burst into flames all around your body, a soft whimper coming from the back of your throat. You grip the front of his jacket, pulling him downwards and closer to you.

Suddenly, a shrill noise pierces through your ears. He pulls away and apologises with a smile, motioning for you to cover your ears. You and him manage to escape before the sprinklers go on, the crispy cold night air embracing you outside.

The plan said to head home in case any of you got separated, so you wave for a Night Cab, the smooth ride home lulling you asleep. Lockwood pays the driver a few pounds and gently shakes you awake, guiding you out of the car. As the engine sounds fade off into the night, you stand in the middle of the street with him, suddenly feeling bare under his gaze.

"Um, I'm not really sure if you know, but married couples kiss from time to time. And I was wondering since our last kiss was quite a while ago and not under ideal circumstances, we could do it again?"

You can't help but giggle at his words, tucking a loose curl behind your ear. "Oh really? I suppose so. We've got to act the part, haven't we?"

"I'm not really sure I want to act anymore." He grins sheepishly, taking a small step closer to you. "I really, really like you. And if you're up for it, we could make kissing a regular thing."

You know he's about to add something more to it but you dont let him finish, cupping his cheeks with both of your hands and slamming your lips on his. This kiss is more intense than others, no rush or reasoning behind it. It keeps going on going, getting better and better until your lungs are screaming at the lack of oxygen. You pull away, resting your forehead against his, both of your eyes shut with lovesick smiles on your faces.

"I like you too, Lockwood. In case you haven't noticed."

"You guys are NOT going to believe this! Outrageous! While I was out there risking my life, staling a book from freaking Penelope Fittes' personal library, GEORGE was out there trying to seduce a GIRL." Lucy shouts as you and Lockwood enter Portland Row,

"You guys had everything under control!! I wasn't even needed!"

#anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #request #penelope fittes #george karim #lockwood and co #lockwood and co x reader #lucy carlyle #fake marriage

[beautyislovley]

“𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡“

𝗕𝗕-first meeting Boris, you are also Theo’s sister.

"Alright if your going to spend the weekend here you have to follow one rule" Theo says to Boris who rolls his eyes "ugh правила, everywhere I go there are правила but fine Potter I'll follow these правила" Boris says as he slouches in his chair.

"You can't get with m-" "your step mother" Boris cuts off Theo with a smirk, "no! You can't get with my sister" Theo says loudly making Boris's eyes widen "sister" Boris asks.

"When I meet her" Boris asks clearly Intrigued "she's coming tomorrow" Theo says "did she come with you when you came here" Boris asks "no she ran away from my father when she saw him" Theo answers.

"They find her" Boris asks "yeah" Theo says.

The next morning the two teens woke up to the sound of yelling.

"Why the hell where you with a boy" Theo's father yells at the younger girl "why do you care" Y/n mutters as she sits down on the chair crossing her arms "answer the question slut" Theo's father yells at his sister "I'm a slut" Y/n asks loudly as she gets off of the chair now standing up as she glares at her father.

"Your the one who cheated on my mom with a girl who's obsessed with drugs" Y/n yells back at her father "don't you dare bring her into this" her father threatens "why you two are both dead beats" Y/n yells as she shakes slightly.

She looked brave but she wasn't, Theo knew this her and her father always got into arguments and she would always shake whenever he would yell or whenever she would yell.

"That is your sister" Boris asks "yup" Theo says as they spy on the yelling people in the kitchen. "Hot" Boris mumbles earning a glare from Theo.

"What did you say" her father leans down as he gets in her face, she begins to fiddle with the bottom of her shirt as she tries not to cry "I said your both dead beats" Y/n says as she looks directly into his eyes.

In a split second Y/n yelped out, her father had just slapped her. She looked at his at her eyes started to let her tears go that she had been holding back.

Theo and Boris rushed upstairs. So did Y/n but not before she flipped her 'dad' off and his girlfriend.

"Fucking asshole" Y/n mutters as she holds her cheek that had a huge red hand print as she walked to her room.

"I should go check up on her" Theo mutters awkwardly to his friend "I come to" Boris asks "sure, don't be weird" Theo says as he opens his door so they could walk to his sisters room.

Once they enter the room they see Y/n on her bed as she shook slightly, she had her headphones and her music blasted through her small black headphones.

"Y/n" Theo mumbles as he sits on her bed in-front of her, she hums as she pulls her headphones off of her head.

"We heard" Boris says as he stands awkwardly "sorry" Y/n mumbles as she wipes her tears that were falling down to her neck as she wasn't crying anymore. She didn't want to cry in-front  of her brother and his friend.

"Why did he start the argument" Theo asks as he puts a hand on her leg trying to calm her down, he knew that she wanted to scream and cry and just break down but she wasn't the type of person to do it-front of other people. She seemed it made her seem weak.

"When I ran away I went to my close friends house and he caught me there and he scolded me calling me a slut and other names" Y/n answers giving him a small dry laugh.

"Your жесткий" Boris says sitting down next to Theo "what does that mean" Y/n asks with curiosity "tough, your tough" Boris says making her smile. "I try" Y/n mumbles. "Anything I can do" Theo asks "no I'm fine, just can't understand him" Y/n says giving her brother a soft smile "well we're gonna go downstairs" Theo says as he stands up "join us, if you want" Boris says making Y/n giggle.

"Bye n/n" Theo says as him and his friend leave the room.

As they get in the kitchen Theo walks to the door and he pulls open the door, his car was gone he must've when out with his girlfriend. "He left" Theo says loudly to Borin before shutting the door close and locking it.

"Tell me about Y/n" Boris says "she tries to act like she doesn't care about our dad but she does" Theo says as Boris hands him vodka "I saw her shake" Boris says as Theo pours them both vodka in their cups. "Huh" The asks before he takes a sip "whenever she was yelling she shook" Boris says "oh, that reminds me" Theo says as he puts his cup down.

"When we were younger she would cry whenever an adult would yell at her" Theo says as if it's the most easiest thing to tell a person.

The whole night they talked about Y/n and also snorted stuff they probably weren't supposed to but they didn't care.

Translate- правила = rules, жесткий = tough

908 words

#beautyislovely #boris pavlikovsky #the goldfinch #boris #x reader #boris pavlikovsky x reader

[dunk3n9]

BATMAN X JOKER HUMAN AU

(I don’t own the artwork I just got it off Pinterest)

Chapter 1: Who Met Who First

I was in a room laughing as I notice the blood everywhere. I see my mama when I walk forward. She looked over with this sickeningly sweet expression on her face. I felt bliss in knowing I was installing that fear. Soon after I feel the laughter, it was abrupt and angered with insanity. When I look at mother, an item in her hand throws itself at me.

I wake up, opening my eyes with quick breaths and sweat pooling on my everything. It takes a minute before my eyes stop fearfully glancing everywhere before meeting my poster of "The Riddler" a talk show host. When My breathing was stable after laying there reminding myself it wasn't real. Who was it that... No I can't think like that anymore otherwise.

"Joe! It's time to wake up, sweetie," Mother yells upstairs, she must be busy with laundry.

My name is Joe Chill. I prefer my nick name at school "Joker" and I earned it. I get called that for several reasons. My mom calls me that cause of my jokes and silly tricks that make her happy. Not to mention the tricks I've played on my peers at school.

"Joker? Joe? Ah, there you are, how did you sleep?" she spoke in a calm voice smiling when sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Fine. I guess."

I looked down still tired.

"Awww, I know Joker but, it's your first day of high school! Oh my goodness, my little man is growing up and going to school-" she smothered me in motherly words and affection.

"Okay, mom you can let go now! Haha," I spoke while chuckling.

"I'm looking forward to some good things this year," I said with mischievous glee.

Any person that knew me would know that smirk I did wasn't just for laughs.

"Oh no you don't mister! No pranks this year not even if someone bothers you, even if they may or may not deserve it, " she said with a stern tone of voice saying the last part under her breath while walking back downstairs.

"But mom!" I loudly complained following right behind, "My whole class is probably waiting for my pranks. It's traditional!"

she gave a stern look to my dramatic argument.

"No buts. Say 'yes mom' and I'll send you on your way," she spoke standing there facing me.

"Yes mom," I said jokingly in a robot tone.

"Good. Oh, that reminds me, your sister Harleen is going to be at your school, too. A grade higher than you. Also go get dressed my Son-a-tron two thousand," She had spoken so nonchalantly I didn't react till it registered.

I was shocked at this statement. My sister Harley is for lack of better words a psycho she can be rough and violent, when needed but, she present herself as put together and is smarter than she'd admit. She's embarrassed me a lot of times at school, too. I love her to death but she can be annoying at times. One time I was getting bullied and nearly got into a fight she stepped in and got in the guys face. I mean yeah she tried to help but still I could handle myself.

"Please tell me she's not-" I said not even finishing my sentence.

"Yup she's moving back here forever her dad finally took the time and decided it was best if she was with me," she squealed in joy like she hasn't seen Harley in ages... It's only been a year.

Someone knocked at the door and mom rushed to answer it. Harley jumped straight in through the door with a front hand walk over then a cartwheel. She landed in front of me with a "ta-da" she said. She hugged me tightly till I gasped for air she then let me go.

"How's my little puddin doing?" She was practically beaming with excitement.

I shrugged with a chuckle. She hasn't called me that since we were kids. I was really confused by a mark on her upper arm. Like burn marks I frowned a little.

"uh-uh-uh turn that frown upside down I'm not gonna bother you all school semester unless someone gives you trouble," she winked and walked back to the door laughing while grabbing her things.

I'm sure I wasn't imagining those marks. I'll ask when she settles in more. I became intrigued when I heard a noise outside all of a sudden.

"What the?" I whispered to myself of course.

I walked to the door passing mom and Harley in a quizzical conversation. Peeking out the open doorframe I spot the old Cobblepot residence being looked at by a family bringing in luggages inside. Oh, they're moving in.

Just like that there they were... new neighbors. Why at a time like this? It seemed odd. I saw a thin women with good physic and she looks healthy, pretty, house wife I believe by her attire. A man with a muscular physic that most men had, sturdy, business man attitude. Then there was a little boy looking around my age he looks more buff than me. I studied him his facial features he had dark eyes, he had the perfect Chin, his smile had pearly whites just like mine. He had most beautiful black hair unlike me with messy green hair, he also had a tan going on I was a tad bit pale.

I was staring for too long analyzing him and his family I didn't notice he saw me and we shared glances. I was scared. What if he tries talking to me? What if he's a bully? I don't know these people. Looking over when back to reality he was speaking to his mom, pointed at my house, she looked over, smiled, nodded yes to something, and he was suddenly walking over here. I hid against the wall. Someone wants to meet me?

"Um, hello? Green hair guy?" His caramel apple voice was so close.

I peek out the door a little. I almost laughed at the startled look when I suddenly popped up.

"Ah, I'm sorry," I tried to contain my laughter, "yes?"

He fixed his outfit and nodded I'm guessing to compose himself. He cleared his throat then spoke.

"Where is your mother?" He spoke fancy and precise.

My nerves became hyper aware that I was talking to someone. Someone new. I was suddenly nervous and anxious.

"Ummm busy. Why?" I spoke quickly avoiding eye contact.

"Please, do get her."

"Mom! Door!" I yelled while turning towards the kitchen.

"My names Bruce by the way," He spoke so suddenly.

I almost lost my composure and screamed. I just simply turned and waved before fiddling with my fingers nervously. She was at the door in a flash looking at Bruce.

"Why hello there," she spoke in a joyful but confused tone.

I walked away to get ready considering I was in my Pajamas consisting of a Black t-shirt with purple and green HAHA's on it, and black fuzzy pants. I quickly brushed my teeth and hair, got dressed, grabbed my backpack, and headed downstairs. I walked back to see the other family talking to my mom.

"I'm so happy to see new faces in the neighborhood. Don't ever hesitate to ask for help from us," she said excited as I was confused.

"Thank you very much. We've come from so far it's nice to have a fresh start. Well I'm glad it's peaceful over in these parts," the woman sounded so elegant.

"We're happy to have you, mister and miss?" Mom has always been so polite she's a people person.

"Just call us Martha and Thomas. Oh, is this your son?" Martha spoke so precise and high class.

"Why yes this is. Say hi, Joe."

Giving a simple wave I try to give my best smile that hopefully didn't show my nerves.

"He's a little shy," mom said in that motherly way of 'he's still learning' or something like that.

"That's okay most kids are to new people. If it's not too much to ask do you think you could take our son to the school? We got here without looking at where it was," Martha had spoken apologetically.

"I'd be happy to help and afterwards I can help you guys move in if you'd like? It'd give us time for some girl talk and to get to know each other," Mom said friendly.

"Thank you very much, Penny." Martha said holding moms hand.

They said there gratitude towards each other and walked away. The boy went over and grabbed I'm assuming his backpack which looked like a briefcase. I looked down apologetically. Mom gave a confused look and realized.

"Joe it's okay. Eventually you'll be able to talk to people and make a lot of friends. Just for now let's just make some high school memories," Mom spoke reassuringly.

I look up at her smiling. She always knows what to say.

"Thanks mom. Let's bring harley, too," I said happily.

"No can do kiddo I got my own set of wheels, boo yah!" She said with a light punch to my shoulder.

"Alright you two! Now how about after school we go out for Chinese food to celebrate your first days, huh? Would you both like that?" She said enthusiastically.

I nodded my head smiling as did harley.

"Great Chinese it is then. Means I don't have to cook, haha," she laughed grabbing her car keys as Bruce walked back our way.

Me and Bruce hopped into my moms car as she smothered Harley in hug and kisses. I heard harley whining through the window and it made me laugh a little.

"What's your name?" Bruce asked bluntly.

"I- uh. You. Me?" I jumbled over my words.

"Haha, yeah you? Unless the car has a name, haha" He spoke shyly trying to break the ice.

"My- my name is Joe. Joe Chill."

"I like your hair, it's fluffy," He spoke nicely.

I became a flustered mess. I'm actually talking to someone. I can't believe it.

"You ready kids? Because mama has a Coffee with her name on it,"she said jokingly.

Me and Bruce chuckled and we were off to school. Let's hope nothing happens to change this day.

#fanfic #dc joker #batman #batman x joker #gaywriter

[ljsstories]

Chapter One: Complaints

"Why do you think you're here today?"

"Because!"

"That's not an answer Jane."

"It's the only answer you're going to get!"

"Well, I can't help you if you won't talk to me."

"Did I ask for your help? The only reason I'm here is because they won't give me pills! I'm supposed to talk out my feelings, is that it?"

"Well yes, if you like. Or you could just talk about why you feel the need for pills, why you're sitting here at this very moment."

"Because everyone was looking at me funny! They all talk about me; whispers everywhere I can't stand it! There goes the girl who had a mental breakdown in the middle of the street!"

"I can assure you Jane, no one is saying that. I think that maybe you are transferring your own thoughts onto others and it's causing you to feel like everyone is against you when the only one against you...is you!" A long silence engulfed the room as client and counsellor both stood their ground. Jane had a degree in psychology, she knew how this all worked. "It is nothing to be ashamed of..." Anna Fisher paused for a moment and smiled softly, "...anxiety is much more common than you would think. Panic attacks happen to the best of us...even me!" Jane blinked in surprise, this woman, she looked so calm and in control! In her forties with shoulder length black hair and a chunky fringe, dressed in a casual white blouse and a light blue cardigan. She half expected her to have a hideous multi-coloured jumper and a long skirt and sandals, instead she was wearing ankle boots that were neatly covered by the hem of her black jeans. She was pretty, no wedding ring...probably a lesbian! That wasn't nice, Jane didn't mean it, she was just nervous and angry and a whole bunch of things that made her feel exposed. As the good Doctor sat across from her with her legs crossed and a clipboard perched on top of her knees, pen poised, Jane suddenly wondered why she had put up such a fight. All she had to do was answer these questions and maybe Doctor Fisher would suggest to her GP that she needed pills, simple!

"Ok fine, I'm here because I'm struggling with work, and with the bar manager, ten whole years of her shit and it's just...getting to me!" Anna smiled and nodded, she scribbled something down then looked Jane in the eyes.

"Good, very good Jane. That's one of the reasons you're here today, now...tell me about Will..."

***

"How did you get on then?" Jane's mother Monica grilled her the minute she got in the car.

"Can we just go home please?" she replied irritably. Going back over what she had just been through in the past forty-five minutes was something she would rather avoid. Monica tutted and started the car with a frown.

"Fine Jane, Rome wasn't built in a day I suppose."

Arriving home, Jane headed straight upstairs to her room and shut the door. Throwing herself onto the bed with an enormous sigh, she thought about her chat with Doctor Anna Fisher. She could hear her mother talking quietly downstairs, her father Richard also talking in a hushed tone discussing their crazy daughter! Jane Charlotte Thomson was twenty-six years of age and still living at home with her parents. Her mother was a fan of the classics, Jane Austen and the Brontë sisters, hence her first and middle names and boy did she get her fair share of teasing growing up over that one! Dark blonde hair, dark blue eyes and "nice teeth" her teacher Mrs Wallace had once told her, Jane struggled with her weight as a teen and later discovered that she had Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome or PCOS as it was better known. A hormonal condition that she inherited from her "big boned" mother, why the similarities couldn't end with her mum's eyes and sharp wit was anybody's guess, this horrid disease did not help with her moods or her self-esteem! Coupled with the fact that she also had Hypothyroidism, an underactive thyroid which had identical symptoms to PCOS, so lucky girl she had a double whammy of all the bad parts. Jane had always been a loner; she didn't make friends easily and the ones she did make were just as odd and introverted as she was. This earned them the nickname of the "freaks and weirdos" at school which they wore as a badge of honour with pride, pride of being lone wolves rather than brainless sheep. Being bullied all through high school for being different was something Jane had learned to live with, but sadly it left emotional scars that she struggled to deal with right into adulthood. Her sister Eliza was six years younger and the polar opposite of Jane. She had light blonde hair and grey eyes like their father, she was also slender like their dad and lucky enough to not inherit the hereditary hormonal disease that plagued Jane. She was blessed with being pretty and full of confidence. She and Jane did not get along, they were like chalk and cheese, always arguing and never seeing eye to eye. Eliza wasn't quite as clever as Jane, but she was manipulative, and she monopolised their parents' time for most of their lives. Jane was invisible at home, at school, at college and even at work to a certain extent. Eliza was the life and soul of the party with a plethora of friends who all enjoyed mocking Jane and putting her down. Yes, it was safe to say that they mutually detested each other.

As her parents took their conversation into the front room, Jane glanced over at her old posters on the wall. Green Day, Bon Jovi, Aerosmith to name but a few. Her current favourite band, Sweet Cacophony, were playing at the ScotRok Festival this year in Glasgow and she really wanted to go...sadly her panic attacks and flaky behaviour were putting a stop to that. Her best friend Louise Murphy had offered to go with her, she hoped to overcome her demons and take her up on her offer. Lying in the silence, she glanced around her room feeling rather sad. Grey carpet, light pink ceiling, and lilac walls. Lilac painted shelves full of dragon, fairy, and skull ornaments, shelves her dad had made for her when she was a teenager. Nothing much had changed, despite her being in her twenties now, her parents still treated her like a child.

That evening, as she sat down to dinner with Eliza and her parents, the topic of conversation diverted to Jane's first appointment with the counsellor. "Well, you made it home so I'm guessing you're not headed for the nut house just yet!" her dad chuckled as he slapped the bottom of the upside-down ketchup bottle he was holding shakily over his plate.

"Ricky that's enough!" her mum scolded him as Eliza giggled wickedly, but he paid no attention to his wife and proceeded to ask Jane several questions based on his knowledge of mental films.

"That one with Jack Nicholson was my favourite!" Jane ate her dinner quietly, hoping he would get bored and change the subject. He eventually did, shouting answers at the television that sat in the corner of the back room, there was a quiz show on and he watched it every night. He didn't mean to be so insensitive, mental health issues just made him feel uneasy. The Thomsons lived in a semi-detached bungalow on the outskirts of Kilmarnock, it had been built for Jane's great great grandfather in the early 1900s and was passed down the Thomson line ever since. Four bedrooms, Monica and Ricky's was at the front of the house and Eliza's at the back. There were two bathrooms and two living rooms, the living room at the back doubled up as their dining room, as well as the access point to the converted rooms upstairs in the loft, there was a shower room upstairs, a single bedroom and Jane's double bedroom, not to mention a very large storage cupboard. When Jane's grandfather passed away, the house then belonged to her father. They moved from Millport on the Isle of Cumbrae shortly afterwards and began making the house their own by converting the attic into rooms and building a larger kitchen at the back of the house. Since the stairs were put in to build the attic conversion, neither of her parents ventured upstairs for some reason. Her dad claimed he was too attached to the old part of the house and let Jane roam around in the new part. She pretty much had her own little flat up there with her shower room all to herself. Jane didn't miss Millport, it was a small town where everyone knew your business, and what they didn't know they made up. Eliza on the other hand was neither up nor down about it, she made friends wherever she went.

Jane crept upstairs after dinner to be alone, as the dulcet tones of Sweet Cacophony's lead singer, Dexter Maloney, echoed in her ears she sent a text to Louise.

*Ok Lou, fuck it! Let's go to the ScotRok Festival!!! Xxx*

Seconds later came the reply.

*OMG!!! U mean it??? xxx*

Yes, Jane meant it, what was that phrase? Carpe Diem! She had a few months to psyche herself up for the big event. Her thoughts wandered onto Will, he didn't get the chance to do all the things he wanted to do, but Jane had that opportunity. She didn't like to think much about him these days, she didn't want to feel! The family cat died aged nineteen a few weeks before and Jane didn't feel as sad as she expected to. She was afraid she was losing her empathy as she got older. As she wrapped herself in a ball inside her king size duvet, the sky was full of stars. Looking up in the dark, she wished that she had someone there with her to share this, it was a dream of hers to watch the stars with her soulmate. But Jane had accepted the fact that there was no such thing a long time ago, "Nobody will ever love me!" she mumbled as she drifted off to sleep under the stars.

***

"Don't forget to have a wee look at the book, I've made a couple of changes to the rota." Nancy McDonald mumbled as she gathered up her things to leave. Jane had just started her shift behind the bar and as usual her bar manager had deemed herself far too important to leave it the way she came into it...clean and tidy! Jane flipped through the diary with apprehension and looked at the changes that had been made for that week, once again she had been put in for a shift she didn't agree to which happened every week. She had an internal crisis, wondering whether she should just bite her tongue and do it, or stand by her principals and say no. Her principals won in the end as she took a deep breath and prepared herself for battle.

"Oh, Nancy I can't do Saturday night I'm afraid." Nancy gave her a dirty look that made her shiver. Jane wasn't allowed to say no, or at least it didn't come easily to Jane to say no, or to let people down but this was about principal. She always said yes, she was always the doormat.

"That's fine!" she replied coldly, "I'll get Owen to do it!" this was a ploy to guilt trip Jane into doing the shift, but she stood her ground. Saturday was her day off, she didn't exactly have plans as she had no life, but the point was that Ashley Wilkie was employed to specifically work weekends and always wanted them off to go out with friends or go to clubs. Nancy favoured her over Jane of course, and what Ashley wanted Ashley got! Knowing that Jane's PCOS could possibly hinder her in having any children, Nancy would rub it in her face that Ashley had a wee boy and needed to put him first. As Nancy left with goodbyes for the customers in the bar, she omitted Jane, punishment for saying no to her no doubt. Watching her saunter out the door, a petite woman in her mid to late forties with short, mousy brown hair, she seemed to be able to wrap many a man and woman around her finger. She was plainer than Jane, yet she had this hold over people that made it nigh on impossible to say no to her, and when you did it was war.

The evening was uneventful, Jane started on the dirty glasses that Nancy had kindly left by the side of the sink and chatted to everyone sitting around the tiny bar that could only sit six people, in fact the members only Ex-Serviceman's Club was rather small in general and could fit sixty people at a push. Not the ideal gathering place for anyone with claustrophobia. Shutting time came around at eleven o'clock and she was glad to clear up and go home.

As usual Jane was too wired to go straight to bed, so to wind down she made a cup of green tea and watched a film. "Oh God, not him!!!" Jane groaned, there was a teen slasher on starring Jensen Reed, she couldn't stand Jensen Reed, but Eliza was completely and utterly obsessed with him! But rather than change the channel and watch something else, she sat with a glower sipping her tea and suffered. "I fucking hate him!"

***

"I mean, he's so annoying!"

"Why?"

"You know why, he's the annoying pretty boy, with his big blue eyes and perfect hair, that shit eating grin. Even when he's acting you can tell he thinks he's the dog's bollocks!" Louise laughed out loud, water dribbling from her mouth as Jane continued, "And Eliza thinks he's the dog's bollocks too! All I ever hear coming from her room is his bloody voice! I pass her door and there's a great big poster of his face staring back at me...ugh!!!"

"Janey!" she thumped Jane hard on the shoulder with her fist, "I was drinking, God!!!" As Louise composed herself and wiped her chin with her sleeve, the best friends sat in silence for a while watching the ducks swim up and down the lake as they sat together on a park bench. Jane adored Louise; she was slightly taller than she was with long, ash blonde hair. They would always get into an argument over the colour of her eyes, she would insist they were grey, but Jane always saw them as light blue. Louise had been her rock through many ups and downs and Jane knew she could always rely on her, that was a special kind of friend that came around once in a lifetime if you were lucky, Jane got that lucky and she would be forever grateful. "You do know River Monster are playing the ScotRok Festival too?" Lou piped up.

"Yeeeeessss!" Jane groaned, "I'm well aware of Eliza's future husband raining on my parade! We'll just avoid that venue. Fucking Jensen Reed! You know I couldn't sleep last night, he jinxed me again!"

"Jane, he is not jinxing you, it's just coincidences! Trust me!" Jane wished that she could believe that but every time something bad happened in her life, Jensen Reed was either playing on the radio with his band, River Monster, or his face was plastered all over the television or magazines. Louise thought she was being silly, "Jensen Reed is not responsible for Will! So just give that a rest!" the sound of Will's name made Jane jump, and deep down she knew that was the case. How could an actor and musician on the other side of the world affect her so much? The answer was he couldn't, but she still detested him! It grew colder as the afternoon transformed into early evening and Louise shivered. "Let's go, I'm freezing my non-existent nuts off here!"

"KFC or the chippy?" Jane asked her as they exited the park.

"Surprise me!" Louise chuckled linking arms with her, "You always do!"

***

Another shift came by as Jane headed into work, parking her car in the back street, and psyching herself up for whatever her manager had in store for her this time. Nancy was looking agitated behind the bar as she arrived, what was this all about? "Can I have a wee word with you Jane, in the toilets?" When Nancy wanted to talk in private, she always pulled Jane into the ladies' toilets.

"Sure!" Jane followed her through and shut the door as Nancy emotionlessly began.

"There have been complaints." Jane blinked and looked intently at Nancy for answers, she couldn't look her in the eye.

"What complaints, what about?" Jane spluttered.

"About you, your attitude." Nancy replied frankly.

"May I ask who complained?"

"I can't tell you that!"

"May I ask how my attitude has resulted in these complaints?"

"Your attitude, you're rude, that's all I can tell you. So, I'm giving you a warning."

Jane had stood behind the bar in complete shock for a very long time after Nancy left. She looked around the bar at the regular customers, drinking and enjoying themselves. She wondered which of these people had complained about her, and why! Nancy's vague report was of no use to her, how could she apologise to the person if she didn't know who they were? How could she rectify the situation and not do it again if she didn't know what it was that she had done??? And just like that, River Monster started playing on the compilation CD she had put on earlier, and just as she was about to change it one of the customers spoke to her. "Cheer up it might never happen!" Paul Swann winked at her from the bar. Jane suddenly broke down and told him what Nancy had said in the toilets. "Jane she's lying!" he said indignantly, "She's jealous of you! You do know that?" Jane shook her head and sniffed, jealous of her?

"Nancy??? Jealous of me???"

"Yeah, you're clever and you have a degree. Not to mention the fantastic Halloween and Christmas decorations you put up, you make the place look amazing and she can't even arrange a piss up in a brewery!" Jane laughed slightly and wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

"Thanks Paul! You really cheered me up!" Paul smiled and placed his hand softly on hers as it lay on the bar.

"It's the truth Jane, everyone loves you! You're popular and she's not and that's why she's trying to give you a bad name. Don't worry, everyone will see through it!"

***

Jane lay on her bed, still fully clothed, in the dark thinking about what Paul had said. He was a regular in the bar and he was always a good friend to her. Working in the social club was Jane's life and she took pride in her work, yes she could be rude but only to people who were rude to her first! She didn't take any crap from drunks and she was unfortunate enough to wear her heart on her sleeve, or in this case, her emotions on her face. The next morning, she was still smarting over the night before when her mother echoed Paul's words, "Janey don't listen to her! I don't believe a word of it! If there really had been complaints then she should have been able to back them up, she didn't so forget it and just keep enjoying your job!" Monica buttered her toast roughly on the kitchen counter and let out a huge, irritated sigh. She had gathered her long brown hair into a rather messy bun on the top of her head as her glasses sat precariously on the tip of her nose, threatening to fall off.

"Mum she's the reason I'm seeing a therapist! I can't take much more of it, maybe I should just leave!" Jane muttered as tears began to form in her eyes once more. Monica pointed the buttery knife in her direction and raised her voice.

"Jane Thomson, you are NOT leaving a job you love just because of one bad apple!" Jane knew she was right, why should she leave? It was probably what Nancy wanted. Oh, how she wished that the doctor had given her pills, if only to dull the pain of having to work alongside such a bitter woman.

***

Jane had the day off and she planned to spend it in the garden reading. After taking Daisy the family Labrador for a walk, she headed up to her room to pick up her book. The unmistakable voice of Jensen Reed was blaring from Eliza's room and she could hear Stacey and Laura giggling and shouting over his dulcet tones. They were Eliza's main henchwomen...her two best friends and they all looked the same to Jane, they wore the same clothes and did their hair and make-up the same way too...sad girls. "Stace you can buy the rope and the duct tape and Laura we'll use your dad's van and when Jensen is next in the UK, we drive to wherever he is, bundle him in the van and tie him up!" the other girls giggled again as Eliza continued to talk utter nonsense, kidnapping Jensen Reed? "Then we all have turns of him..." the girls giggled once again, "...me first, I get to have my wicked way with him first because it was my idea!" even more giggles, "Then he'll fall in love with us and we'll all get pregnant and have his babies at the same time!" the giggles transcended into cackles as Jane wanted to gag. As if they could ever get within ten feet of him in the first place, not to mention the fact that what they were planning was assault of the sexual and physical variety! Suddenly Eliza opened her bedroom door as Jane was still hovering there. "What are you loitering about for?" she huffed and crossed her arms, staring Jane down.

"So being in my own home is loitering now! Jeez mother may I?"

"Oh my God that phrase is so antiquated!" she shook her head and tutted.

"Oh my God you used a big word!" Jane mocked her as her face grew hot with annoyance.

"Just go and haunt the attic like you usually do, plain Jane!" small chuckles escaped Eliza's room as her friends seemed to be enjoying her humiliation. Jane tried not to let it show that they were getting to her as she put on a fake smile and casually walked into the back room.

"Good luck with your abduction girls, oh and do let me know when to crochet the baby booties for the new arrivals!" all three of the girls blushed with embarrassment as Jane climbed the stairs, this time with a genuine smile on her face.

***

"She really said that?" Louise exclaimed shrilly in Jane's ear, "How sad is that??? They're all twenty years of age for fucks sake!"

"Yeah well, they can dream!" Jane laughed softly as they chatted on the phone.

"Oh, by the way, I got the tickets! You'll soon be breathing the same air as Dexter Maloney girl!" Jane sighed happily at the thought of the ScotRok Festival.

"I'm looking forward to it!"

"That's all you can say?" she could hear Louise huffing on the other end.

"Okay then I'm super excited?" Louise blew a raspberry and chuckled.

"Curb your enthusiasm I can't take it!" there was a short silence, then Louise spoke again, "Seriously though Jane, how are you doing? And remember this is me you're talking to!" Jane didn't really know how to answer that, it had been a year since Will...but it felt like yesterday. Louise had never met him as she was a couple of years older and lived in Glasgow. Despite being such a good friend to Jane, sometimes she felt very alone.

"I'm getting there...slowly!" Jane replied, she was too tired for an intense talk. They said their goodbyes and Jane wrapped herself in her duvet. Looking up at the sky calmed her, she thought about going into work the next evening and facing Nancy, focusing on the stars she pushed that thought to the back of her mind as she drifted off to sleep. Things could only get better...

***

It was Friday morning and Jane wasn't working until later that night, taking over from the manager from hell. When the phone rang Eliza came rushing out of her bedroom into the hall and grabbed it. Her excited face fell and she thrust the handset into Jane's chest and grunted something inaudible, then slithered back into her Jensen Reed sex den. Jane answered it curiously as the voice on the other end gave her chills. "Hello Jane..." it was Nancy's Highland accent chirping away, "...the stock order sheet has gone missing!" And? Jane blinked then realised what she was implying.

"Oh, right!" was all she could say. The stock order sheet was always filled out by Nancy on a Thursday evening, and she normally would leave it on the liqueur shelf for whoever was going to the cash and carry to pick up the following morning.

"Yes, so if you've seen it then now would be the time to tell me. I can't order our stock for next week without it and the boys are waiting to head off now!" Nancy grew silent, waiting for Jane to confess no doubt.

"No, I haven't..." before she could finish, Nancy had obviously had enough of her denial and talked over her.

"Well, it was in the usual place last night when I left and now it's not there! Did you move it or..." Jane felt the urge to interrupt her this time.

"I'm sorry Nancy but when I took over it wasn't there." Which was the truth, Jane distinctly remembered not seeing a sheet on that shelf when there should have been one, she just assumed the boys had picked it up already to give them a head start in the morning. Nancy sighed down the line, convinced that she was lying, then her voice softened.

"Okay, I'm sure it'll turn up. See you later Jane!" And she hung up, leaving Jane a bundle of nerves once again.

Another evening of doubting herself, Jane knew that Nancy blamed her for the missing order sheet, as she racked her brain thinking whether it might have been there after all, Rachel, the cook, ushered her into the kitchen closing the door, something she never did. "Hey what's up?" Jane smiled faintly as Rachel looked serious.

"Jane, I have something to tell you. You know that missing order sheet? I know it wasn't you!"

"How..." Rachel leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"It was Scott!" Jane inhaled a sharp breath, Scott the young waiter? "Nancy had been giving him a hard time, it was so bad he spent the good part of the afternoon in tears in the gents! He just told me it was him after listening to Nancy bitch about you all day and then seeing her practically blank you before she left there! Jane he's in bits!"

"I don't understand..." Jane shook her head feeling puzzled. Why would he take the order sheet?

"Nancy was chastising him for being too slow cleaning the tables, she was brutal! When she went out for a fag Scott went behind the bar, took the order sheet and threw it in the bin!"

"Oh my God..."

"Jane please don't say anything, he'll get his jotters for this!"

"No, they won't fire him for that surely?" Rachel sucked in a breath and shrugged.

"Promise me, I know it means she'll still blame you but...he's just a kid Jane!" Jane agreed to keep quiet, Scott was only seventeen and just out of school. He needed that job and Jane was used to being Nancy's public enemy number one. As she exited the kitchen, Scott stood before her with a handful of dirty plates he had just collected.

"Jane..." he squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip, "...I...I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to get you in trouble." The poor boy was indeed visibly upset, he wanted to punish Nancy and in doing so he had stirred up all kinds of trouble. He must have been pretty desperate to pull a stunt like that. No matter how frustrated Jane got with Nancy, she would never try to get her revenge, it always backfired as Scott's actions had proven.

"It's okay Scott, just promise me you'll never do anything like that ever again! She's not worth it!" Scott nodded and slinked into the kitchen. So what if Nancy suspected her? The people that mattered knew she didn't do it!

***

Four months had passed since the order sheet incident and Jane arrived for work that evening with a spring in her step, three more weeks to go until the ScotRok Festival! Nancy was waiting for her as usual, with a blank expression she muttered "You're cutting it fine!" Jane started her shift at six and she was ten minutes early, how could that possibly be cutting it fine? She shrugged it off and started the evening the way she wanted it to end, with a smile and a positive attituded. But that wasn't going to last as Nancy grabbed the rota book and began rifling through the pages in front of her. "Jane, would it be possible for you to swap your week off? You see I was going back to Lewis to visit my family and I would really like two weeks off in a row..."

"Nancy I'm going to the ScotRok Festival, I booked this week off four months ago with plenty of notice. I can't swap I'm sorry!" she shrugged as Nancy scowled and slammed the book shut.

"That's fine, that's fine I'll...work something out!" She grabbed her bag, slung it roughly over her shoulder and stormed out without saying her goodbyes to anyone let alone Jane. Rachel appeared from the kitchen having heard the entire exchange and muttered under her breath.

"Bloody Highland Cow!!!" Jane laughed and covered her mouth in surprise over her own reaction as Rachel joined in. "She's as popular as haemorrhoids!" Jane laughed even louder.

"Yeah, and just as painful!" She added.

"I mean, she knew you'd had this week planned for ages, absolute bitch!" Rachel shook her head in disbelief and sat on a spare stool by the bar, the meals were quiet this evening and she'd sent Scott home early.

"Well, what can you do? Nancy is just...Nancy!"

"Don't you let her get her own way, you stick to your guns Jane! She mucks you about enough as it is!" Rachel pointed a stern index finger at her. Jane wasn't going to let it get to her, she was used to this. There was no way that she was changing her week off just to suit her, but just in case there were any alterations against her will she decided to go and see the Chairman of the Club in the morning to make sure Nancy didn't rob Jane of her long-awaited trip.

***

The small club consisted of two floors, the ground floor was where the bar and lounge were situated, upstairs were the offices for the committee and their secretary. As she ascended the stairs to the Chairman's office the following morning, Jane had her speech all ready and wasn't going to let her palpitations and shaky limbs get in the way. Knocking on the door she heard Davey Adams call out "Come in!" as she turned the handle and entered the lion's den. He looked up from his mountain of paperwork and surveyed his guest through his glasses while crinkling his nose to focus. "Morning Jane, what can I do for you?" Jane cleared her throat and jumped right in.

"Well, Davey, I had a bit of a scare last night when Nancy tried to change my week off. I'm just here to make sure that she doesn't do it anyway as I've had this planned for quite a while. Davey I had that week off booked over four months ago..." Before she could finish her speech, Davey waved a hand and closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair with a weary expression.

"Jane, I know. I saw it in there months ago, don't worry, you will get that week off I promise you!" Jane's shoulders slumped in relief as Davey returned to his paperwork, but not before asking her an all too familiar question, "Are you sure you don't want the bar manager position? It would make all of our lives so much easier!" Jane smiled sadly, yes she would love to, but her life would not get easier, only harder when Nancy's clique found out she'd taken her job.

"No Davey, I'm perfectly happy just turning up and pouring pints, thanks."

"Suit yourself, oh, and enjoy your week off." He looked up then, winking cheekily, and was that a little smile? The chat with the Chairman had put her mind at ease, he wasn't a fan of Nancy's and bitterly regretted giving her the job as bar manager, whenever there was any kind of dispute that Jane couldn't resolve with her, she knew she could always go to Davey who took Jane's side every time. When he first asked Jane if she wanted the job, Nancy was in Lewis visiting her sick, elderly mother, but Jane wasn't about to take a job from someone who's family member had just fallen ill. That would have been a Nancy thing to do and she wasn't that kind of person. Yet still Nancy saw Jane as a threat, for what reason was a mystery to her, but she was no threat, she just wanted to do her job and go home.

Louise was happy to hear that the week was still on. She had planned out everything for their trip, shopping, cinema and of course ScotRok! Jane was looking forward to hearing Sweet Cacophony live, it was her first experience with live music of any kind, Jane had never been to a concert. It was actually Doctor Fisher who had encouraged her to go and do something a little out of her comfort zone. "How are you feeling about it then Jane?" She had asked that afternoon.

"Excited, apprehensive, nervous, a mixture of things really." Was her reply, she had decided to be honest since their initial session and ever since then she had lived up to that. Honesty, but still no recommendation for pills.

"Well, all of that is to be expected. Remember that all these feelings are valid, it's going to be a journey. The main thing is that you take the time to enjoy yourself. Now, how are you getting on with Eliza?" Ah yes, Eliza. This had been Jane's fifth session with Doctor Fisher, in the last one they had covered her dysfunctional relationship with her sister at great length. Doctor Fisher had told her to be more tolerant of her younger sibling as their age gap was a greater factor than she might think.

"I'm trying to be the older, wiser sister who lets it all wash over me. Water off a duck's back!"

"Very good, remember that your sister looks up to you." What a laugh, "She may not show it, but she looks to you for guidance." On what not to be in your life? Yes, that she does, Jane thought to herself. "Try and understand that her negative attitude towards you may come from a place of insecurity, she maybe wants to have a bond with you but lashes out for fear of being rejected by you." I highly doubt that, Jane tried not to laugh.

One fresh and clear walk later, after her appointment with the good doctor, Jane opened her front door to the high-pitched shrieking of her insecure, desperate to bond sister. "Oh my God I can't believe it, I've won!!!" Eliza screamed in front of Jane's face waving her phone around.

"Won what?" Jane grunted in response. Eliza gave her a dirty look and a sarcastic laugh escaped her lips.

"I've won a VIP backstage pass to meet Jensen and his band at the Hydro and then...I get to have dinner with him!!!" she squealed and jumped up and down like an obsessed teenage girl. Great! Jane was pleased, she was pleased that she got a break from her and Jensen bloody Reed! However, this was going to be the topic of conversation from now until the concert and she wasn't sure she had the stomach for all of that. "So you can tell Jensen that despite not being able to attend ScotRok with you and dreary Louise, I'll have him all to myself in August!" Eliza sneered at her and sauntered into her room.

"Yeah great Eliza, I'll just tell him that." Jane called back to her with an incredulous laugh, me and my buddy Jensen Reed meeting up for a coffee and discussing his budding romance with my little sister, Jane's laugh changed its tone as she giggled uncontrollably in the hall. Then the thought of having him as a brother-in-law sent a chill down her back, it was never going to happen but thinking of the possibility of him actually being in her life, in the flesh, well it didn't bear thinking about. She shuddered, shaking off that nasty thought and headed upstairs. Three weeks until ScotRok, Jane couldn't wait and she wasn't going to let anything rain on her parade!

Next⏭️

#YouAreTheReason #writeblr #writerblr #writing #writing community #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #wattpad #story #story telling

[idkhow-butyoufoundme]

#do not rb #i want to ******* *** why has today been so shitty #I have felt like absolute fucking garbage all day from the moment I woke up to the point where others also noticed smth wasn’t right #and by felt like absolute fucking garbage I don’t mean like The Big Sad I mean like I Feel Like I Am Going To Pass Out From Exhaustion #and could not focus at all & brain was all over the place constantly #and physically I felt just as bad & still do #was barely able to eat all day bc I felt sick #which did not help w the tiredness #had an entire litre bottle of water & still was as dehydrated as that spongebob meme #and then I got home after a particularly tiring walk (v hot and bag was extra heavy) & was looking forward so much to just relaxing #& getting myself together for tmr so I don’t fall behind in my classes already #and blood mention tw for the next bit & if you have emetophobia don’t read too #as soon as I open the door I am greeted with blood & vomit everywhere from my dog #and by everywhere I mean. upstairs & downstairs.​ & on my mother’s bed. #nearly had a panic attack. was told it jsut happens sometimes & not to worry abt it (???that’s not normal what the fuck????) #so I had to deal w all that #mind you still hadn’t gotten a chance to sit down or have water or food or anything #and just. ffnfhsjhfskhskjsndkhfiuanfiushkjh I hate this so much I am in so much pain #and I am Very Close to jsut #breaking into tears at any given moment

[thefanficmonster]

Just thought about this as a story or headcanons, maybe the lords in re8 have a child, which is the reader and they are somewhere around 7 in the beginning. You can do them all separately, like first part would be Heisenberg, then Dimitrescu, Beneviento, and then Moreau, so the reader would accidentally do something and they are scared that the lord that is their parent would be super mad and they run away and the lords reactions to their child being gone and maybe the reader goes back to the village older, maybe 14 or 15 and the lords are emotional when they finally reunite with the reader. Maybe at first they don't recognize the reader at first, thinking they are just an outsider until they see something that they gave the reader as a birthday present and they recognize them. And it's just full fluff in the end? This has also been bugging my mind for a while 🤣 sorry if this ask was complicated to read

Heyy ~ lovely idea as always hun! I changed it up a bit, hope you don't mind and still enjoy reading it nonetheless 💗

Alcina Dimitrescu

- Being the youngest Dimitrescu, you were expected to be a bit of a spoiled brat since our mother and sisters looked after you like the most precious and rarest gem in this world - Surprisingly though, you were a very well behaved child - A shy, quiet, well-mannered kid that followed their mother's rules like they were the law - But even you weren't immune to that childish curiosity that every kid possesses - So you had to go on and break a rule or two eventually - However, the biggest one you broke, the one that had you sweating nervously, was sneaking down into the basement where the wine your mother and sisters were so proud of was kept - With trembling hands you picked up one of the bottles, the one with the most interesting pattern on the bottle, and began to expect it - That’s when a noise suddenly echoed throughout the basement, causing you to drop the bottle which broke as soon as it the ground, sending the red liquid splashing everywhere - You were mortified - You were only six at the time, you couldn’t think of a strategy to fix the mess you had made - So instead, you chose to run and hide, convinced you’d get in A LOT of trouble when your mother would find out - The place you chose to hide in was a run down part of the courtyard where you were least likely to be spotted by anyone or anything - Your plan started backfiring only about an hour after you settled in your hiding spot - The cold was starting to be painful on your skin but you refused to go back in - Before you knew it you had passed out, deleting any memory of what was to happen afterwards - Upon waking up, you found yourself in your room, changed in a new set of clothes and void of the chill you were suffering from before you lost consciousness - It didn’t take you long to notice your mother sitting in a chair next to the bed, struggling not to drift of to sleep, her face looking like she had aged about ten years in the span of a few hours out of worry   - “Mom?” You spoke up weakly, startling the woman who was on her feet and crouching down closer to you within a second - “Y/N, darling, why’d you do that? You had me worried sick.” Alcina said, her hand gently caressing your hair, none of that sternness she was known for left in her - “I’m sorry, mama. For scaring you and for the wine bottle. I didn’t mean to...” You tried saying but got choked up by your tears - “The wine be damned. Nothing is as important to me as you are sweetie.” She said, planting a soft kiss on your forehead before climbing in bed with you and wrapping her arms around you, her embrace so warm and comforting - You never doubted your mother’s love for you, but that moment only made you more sure in it and made you love her triple the amount you already loved her

Donna Beneviento

- Donna had always been generous with the amount of dolls she allowed you to have and play with - Although, the ones she gave you were not infected with her Cadou and couldn’t move or speak on their own as to not scare you - However, you were still allowed to play and talk with Angie who you were raised to see as a sister - And just like sisters, you and Angie also fought every now and then - But, this one time, she really angered you and with all the strength of a six year old that you possessed you threw her across the room - She hit a wall hard enough to loosen one of her arms and it fell off - That’s when you knew you were practically dead in trouble and ran to hide under your bed - As you were climbing up the stairs though, you could still hear Angie’s screaming and crying from downstairs and Donna could no doubt hear it as well - So as to avoid running into her, instead of hiding upstairs, you went into the basement - Where you had never been in, by the way - Meaning you had no idea what horrors awaited you there - Mannequins, doll parts, terrifying dolls which moved on their own - In your eyes it was a pure nightmare - Seeing the dolls turning their heads to follow your movement, some even raising an arm as if to greet you almost made you scream several times but you didn’t want to give away your hiding spot - And that’s when the laid out mannequin on the table, one you were already terrified of, turned it’s head to look at you, opened its eyes and mouth - The radio on the other table turned on simultaneously, all of it being too much of a scare for you to be able to suppress the scream you let out - That’s when you felt a hand on your shoulder and screamed even louder, even beginning to cry - The hand turned you around and you were suddenly facing your mom who looked scared and concerned, a little paler than usual too - You took no notice of that though, seeing as how you ran right into her, hiding your face in her hip - “I’m sorry mommy! I didn’t mean to hurt Angie! Just please don’t let them scare me anymore!” You cried, your tiny hands balled up in fists, clutching to Donna’s dress as if for dear life - The woman was relieved to see you were safe although still a little confused as to why you had even run down to the basement in the first place - And then she thought a bit more about what you had said - “Oh dear, you thought you were in trouble? Angie’s perfectly fine, Y/N. Her limbs come off loosely all the time. You didn’t even actually hurt her.“ - Seeing that your distress was showing no sign of decreasing, Donna picked you up and proceeded to carry you up to where Angie was so she could apologize for making you feel guilty in the first place

Salvatore Moreau

- Being a young kid, the Reservoir was a rather dangerous place for you to wander around in unsupervised - Usually you’d stick to the safest area, aka the one furthest away from the water, and would only be allowed to see the rest of your dad’s property with him by your side, holding your hand to make sure you wouldn’t fall - But one day, as you were sitting in at the entrance of the Reservoir, in the small body of water by your feet you saw a golden fish - Mesmerized, you foolishly ducked down to try and touch it but it, of course, swam away - Oh but you were far from prepared to let it go - So you chased after it, watching its glimmering skin rush under the surface of the water, going further into the dangerous parts of the property - You were mindless to the fact you were entering a territory that was originally forbidden to you - That is until a wooden board on the dock broke under you, causing you to fall in the water - And being only barely six years old, you didn’t know how to swim so before the panic had even worn off completely, you started screaming for help, praying your father would hear you - And boy were you in luck - A giant fish emerged from the water from underneath you, carrying you on its back to the dock you had fallen from - You scrambled to get to the safe half of it and sat on the ledge - By the time you were able to look around with clear vision instead of the blurred with tears one you had been struggling with seconds prior, the monster fish was gone - And your dad was standing on the dock next to you - “You see no why you aren’t allowed here, child?” - You nod, sniffling and running to hug him, relieved to be in your dad’s safe embrace - Despite the efforts to be stern, Moreau crumbles back to his usual loving and caring self, being the best father in the world in your eyes  - He carried you, piggy-back style back to the safe space of the Reservoir

Karl Heisenberg

- It goes without say that, growing up in a factory as dangerous as Heisenberg’s, there’s certain amount of rules you have to respect for yours and your father’s safety as well as the successfulness of his experiments - But there was no force that was able to keep you away from this one machine that looked far too interesting for you to overlook - You couldn’t help but go up to it every now and then to look at the blinking lights and the tempting colorful buttons - And then there was one day when just looking didn’t satisfy you - So you went on to press a few buttons, in the order of your favorite colors - It didn’t take long for you to realize how poor that decision was - When sparks started flying from the machine was when you finally decided to back away and that satisfying your curiosity wasn’t worth it - But it was already too late  - The whole process had stopped, the conveyer belt of murder machines pausing mid-movement suggesting the whole operation was hindered - “Y/N? What on Earth are you doing?” - Your dad’s voice had never terrified you so much - All excuses and apologies you wanted to say died down in your throat at the sight of your mildly agitated father standing behind you with an unimpressed look on his face - He wasn’t angry by any means but your vision was too blurred by tears for you to be able to see that - “Dad, I’m so sorry!” You cried, running to hug him, back turned to the malfunctioning machine you believed you damaged beyond repair - Wrapping his arms around you, he gave you a quick hug before stepping around you and approaching the machine, fixing it with the press of a few buttons - “Hope that teaches you a valuable lesson not to break the rules kid.” He said with a crooked smile, ruffling your hair while you still stared at machine in disbelief

#resident evil 8 #resident evil #resident evil heisenberg #resident evil village #re8 #re 8 #re village #karl heisenberg #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #salvatore moreau #donna beneviento #parent scenarios #au #kid reader #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #video game headcanons #re headcanons #headcanons #video game #video game fanfic #reader #request

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Spare Me A Moment? // Benedict Bridgerton

Request: I’d love to request a Benedict fic, if that’s okay ☺️ Maybe one where the reader doesnt belong to the ton and works for the Bridgertons and he falls for her but she can’t quite believe it (because why would he fall for someone of her status?) but eventually admits that she has feelings for him too? I hope this is something you’d like to write 🙈 Thank you so much 💛 - @dreaming-about-fanfictions

A/N: My first Bridgerton request and it’s from my dear, Astrid! Thank you, my lovely. I only hope I have done it justice. There are moments in this that are inspired by Downton Abbey (a different time period, I know, but I adapt) and the way the fic is written is meant to jump about POVs before finally bringing the reader or Benedict as the sole focus of the scene.

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: use of she/her pronouns, female reader, class differences, societal differences, pining, mutual pining, kissing, honest conversations, bridgertons being bridgertons, healthy family relationships.

Word Count: 5.4k

Of the families that resided in Grosvenor Square, there was not one so loved by their staff than that of the Bridgertons. They treated their staff fairly with decent wages and housing well as treating them with respect. The staff that work for the Bridgertons are so admired by the family that those in their employment tend not to leave for years on end; perfectly happy to remain devoted to one family.

To be a housemaid in a home such as Bridgerton House was an honour; as was repeated by the butler, Jenkins and the Head Housemaid, Mrs. Thorpe when (Y/N) began working in the house many years ago.

There was no other way to put it, (Y/N) adored working in Bridgerton House. She never minded the early starts, or the late finishes when the season was in full swing. She could never find herself bothered by having to pick up after the youngest children; their shoes and books lying about hallways and staircases, ready to cause an injury. (Y/N) was utterly devoted to the family; she could never imagine working anywhere else.

And if she had admired the second born Bridgerton with an interest that spoke to more of an employer/servant relationship, then that was (Y/N)’s cross to bear.

-----------

For months he had watched her from the centre of attention. He had observed how she held herself; tall and proud of the work she completed daily.

It had been a passing glance that had started it all. A polite smile and nod from her as Benedict passed in her the hallway, and suddenly he was hit with one, if not all, of Cupid’s arrows. After that, Benedict started to notice (Y/N) everywhere – started to notice the extra attention she paid Hyacinth when she was missing Gregory; he noticed how she would go out of her way to ensure his mother’s comfort in her drawing room, fluffing up cushions and pillows, and offering a blanket should there be a chill.

Benedict began to notice all of this and for a moment, he wondered whether he was beginning to lose his mind. He knew of the barriers between them, but that didn’t stop him from experience the raw emotion of wanting her. Benedict didn’t like to think how many hours of the day he devoted to thinking of her; dreaming of her.

All he wanted was to talk to her. To have a few minutes with her to plead his case; to help her understand that there is the very real possibility of a relationship between then should she feel the same way. How often he had dreamed of her feeling the same way…

A lovesick fool. Benedict Bridgerton was a lovesick fool but should (Y/N) spare him a moment, he would be her lovesick fool.

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

From the very moment she woke, (Y/N) had been on her feet, rushing from room to room, tidying up after everyone. The whole Bridgerton family would be descending on the main house for the final meal of the day; they were welcoming Anthony and his new wife, Kate, home from their honeymoon.

That meant everything had to be perfect. That meant there was very little time to wander through the house; Jenkins was already close to tears; he could not be pushed any further.

The chiming of the grandfather clock in the hallway has (Y/N) hastening her steps, trying not to look too rushed as she thinks of the dinner service still needing to be taken upstairs and the wine to decant and the port to breathe. Whilst Anthony had a collection of whiskies and brandies in his study, the port was kept to the realm of the butler – Jenkins knew exactly what to buy and when to serve it. Tonight was one such occasion, and it still needed to breathe.

“(Y/N)!” Benedict calls, hurrying after her as she makes her way back to her quarters to dress for the dinner service. Jenkins, the Butler, would not be best pleased if she were to show up late.

“Mr. Bridgerton, how can I help you?” (Y/N) asks, curtseying to the second-born Bridgerton before eyeing the grandfather clock and noting the time.

“Spare me a moment of your time, please?”

“You should be getting ready for dinner. I know that Benjamin has laid out your clothes.”

“I want to talk to you… only for a moment, I know you have jobs to attend to.”

Smoothing down her apron, (Y/N) smiles softly at the brunette. “What would you like to talk about?”

“I thought it was obvious but perhaps not,” Benedict murmurs to himself, practically ignoring her question.

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Bridgerton but I must be getting on.”

“No!” He all but shouts, reaching for your hand, “Spare me another moment of your time… please.”

She wavers as if caught between the berating she will no doubt receive from the Butler for being late to the dinner service or letting down her employer whom she stands in front of. After a moment’s silence, her decision is made. “How can I help you, Mr. Bridgerton?” She repeats.

“Call me Benedict, please.”

She shakes her head, “I’m afraid I cannot do that, Mr. Bridgerton. It would be improper.”

Benedict hesitates; his hand still outstretched towards her as if desperate to feel her underneath his palms. “I’ve gone about this all wrong,” He says, eyes sad.

“Pardon?”

“I’ve fallen in love with you,” Benedict confesses, speaking plainly as if he hasn’t changed her world in six words.

“What?” She gasps; propriety falling away from her for a moment as the words he uttered settle into her skin.

“I’ve fallen in love with you,” Benedict repeats, voice firmer as he becomes surer of himself.

“How?” She asks, her face and voice puzzled, “I’m a housemaid, Mr. Bridgerton.”

His eyebrows furrow as if such a thing shouldn’t matter in their world. Yet it does – status is everything; titles are everything. A man who hails from a family such as the Bridgertons could not marry, let alone fall in love with one of the serving class. It simply didn’t happen. There was the occasional affair, but (Y/N) knew herself well enough not to be reserved as a mistress – it was not her destiny. She was to marry for love.

“I don’t know how it happened, but I find myself thinking of you every waking minute of the day. I find it hard not to stare at you when I see you completing your duties. At night, I long for it to be you lying next to me instead of the emptiness of the bed. I don’t know how it happened, (Y/N). All I know is that I am in love with you. This is no farce or folly.”

The words fall over her as rain would fall over grass. They soak into her skin, mould to her bones and become part of her in the span of mere seconds. Mere seconds, and her world has changed. As much as she longed to hear those words from his lips, this could not happen. Moving away from him, her chest aching with every step, she whispers her excuse to escape, “I’m sorry, Mr. Bridgerton, I need to get back downstairs.”

Watching her walk away from him, Benedict feels something heavy settle in his chest, pressing his lungs down and making it difficult to breathe. The barriers between them were so entrenched into society, Benedict begins to worry that he has lost her before he every truly got to know her.

Shaking his head, determination sets his nerves to steel. He would try again, he promises himself. He would not pester, but he would do what he could to ensure a brighter future for the both of them.

----------

“We’re down a footman,” Jenkins panics, “I’ve had to send William to bed with a head cold. We’re down one footman in the dining room.”

“What do you propose we do?” Mrs. Thorpe asks of the grey-haired man. Hands on her hips and her lips, thin, Mrs. Thorpe was not a woman to be trifled with. She had not run Bridgerton House for close to thirty years for Jenkins’ panic to ruin a single evening. So far in their shared career with the Bridgerton family, his nerves had almost ruined an engagement party, a christening, an end of season masquerade ball and now, a traditional family dinner.

The colour fades from Jenkins’ face as he mutters, “I’m going to have to have a housemaid in the dining room.”

Mrs. Thorpe rolls her eyes at the antics of the overly dramatic butler. “It won’t be the end of the world to have a housemaid in the dining room. Take (Y/N) – she’s liked well enough by the family and knows how to serve.”

Jenkins sighs wearily as if the weight of the world rests upon his shoulders. “I suppose I have no choice. Will you let (Y/N) know?”

(Y/N) is walking down the stairs to the lower levels of the house when she hears Mrs. Thorpe call her name. Turning, as she lands on the bottom step, she has a fond smile on her face for the Head Housekeeper. “Mrs. Thorpe,” (Y/N) greets.

“We’re down a footman this evening, dear,” Mrs. Thorpe says in greeting, never one to beat around the bush, “Would you be able to cover the dining room with Jenkins and Benjamin?”

“The dining room?” (Y/N) questions as the rug is pulled from underneath her feet for the second time that afternoon. It would mean having to see Benedict once more, but what choice was there.

“Yes,” Mrs. Thorpe confirms, “There aren’t enough bodies to cover the whole family. Everyone is dining tonight.”

“Of course,” (Y/N) smiles, “Of course, I’ll help. I’ll also take William a tray when I get a moment’s reprieve.”

Mrs. Thorpe smiles; the corners of her eyes crinkling from the force of it. “You are a gem. Thank you, dear.”

(Y/N) nods, smiling at the Head Housekeeper though she knows it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Having to see Benedict so soon after his confession had sent her mind into overdrive; her stomach tying itself into knots – she could only hope that the gentleman wouldn’t say anything, wouldn’t humiliate her in front of his whole family.

Mrs. Thorpe touches (Y/N)’s shoulder, asking her softly, “Is everything okay, dear?”

(Y/N) nods, trying her best not to let her emotions show on her face. She had been blindsided by Benedict and his confession; didn’t ever expect such words to leave his mouth… well, expected them but never thought they would be directed at her.

“I’m fine, Mrs. Thorpe,” She smiles and whilst the Head Housekeep returns the smile, she does not believe the one on (Y/N)’s face for a moment.

“Are you sure you’re okay to help out in the dining room? Jenkins can always find someone else.”

(Y/N) shakes her head, knowing the butler better than she knows herself. “He would cause such a panic. No, it’s better I do it myself.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am,” She pats Mrs. Thorpe’s hand. “I am sure.”

-----------

It takes everything she has to stop her hands from shaking as she enters the dining room with her tray of food. Following Jenkins’ lead, (Y/N) holds her head high as she serves the Bridgertons, beginning with Anthony and then making her way from his right.

Benedict all but freezes in his spot when (Y/N) finally comes to serve from his left shoulder. He turns in his chair to find her staring down at him; a serving plate in her hand, the tongs pointed in his direction. Their fingers brush as Benedict reaches for the utensil sending a zap of static electricity up (Y/N)’s arm. She sucks in a breathe, desperate to keep the connection between them yet she is the one who straightens, who schools her face into a mask of polite interest.

“Thank you,” Benedict whispers, still unable to take his eyes off her.

“You’re welcome,” She replies, swiftly moving onto Gregory who sits patiently by Benedict’s side.

Jenkins who had noticed the exchange between Benedict and (Y/N) clears his throat, gaining the attention of the family waiting to start their meal. “I am terribly sorry for the informality. William took ill at the last moment and (Y/N) graciously offered to fill his shoes.”

Anthony Bridgerton smiles at (Y/N). “Thank you, (Y/N), for stepping in so quickly,” He states before turning his attention to Jenkins, “Has a tray been organised for William? Do you need us to contact the doctor?”

Jenkins watches the young Viscount with warm eyes; having known the Viscount since he was a babe in arms, it has been his pride and joy to watch him grow to the man he is today. “(Y/N) has offered to take a tray to William as soon as she is finished here. As for the doctor, my Lord, it seems only to be a head cold.”

“Let us know if anything changes, please.”

“Of course, my Lord.”

As food is served and wine is poured, happy and warm conversation flows through the Bridgerton family. Laughter is the most often heard sound in the Bridgerton home; it punctuates the air whether the chuckle and giggle comes from a member of the family or a member of staff.

Tonight is no different, it seems, as Hyacinth snorts midway through her laughter at Gregory’s latest antics. Visiting home for the weekend from Eton, Gregory was on hand to entertain his brothers and scandalise his dear mother with stories of his school life.

“I do hope you are paying attention in your lessons,” Violet admonishes her youngest son though there is nothing but maternal love in her voice.

Gregory smiles widely, holding a hand over his heart as he promises, “I do nothing less.”

His words receive an amused snort from all three brothers and a roll of eyes from his mother. (Y/N) turns her face away from the loving scene to keep the smile on her face from growing. This; this is what she years for – family, love, laughter and warmth. No matter how Benedict phrases his feelings, and no matter how she may feel for the Bridgerton, a relationship that harbours the four things (Y/N) holds dear would be impossible due to her station. A sad fact, but a universally accepted truth.

The topic of conversation once again shifts; this time focusing on the latest branch in literature. A novel had been published that had managed to scandalise not only the religious community, but also the scientific one. Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein was, to (Y/N), two things. Not only was it a book that promised the reader to be horrified, but it was written by a woman. Shelley was not the first female author, and she would not be the last but this latest venture into a new genre of literature inspired pride within (Y/N). With the growing availability of books through libraries, (Y/N) felt it was only time before something big happened in the fight for rights for women.

Though she kept those thoughts readily to herself.

“What do you think, (Y/N)?” Benedict asks, blue eyes sparkling over the rim his wine glass as every member of his family turns to look at her.

Eyes wide with shock, she glances over to Jenkins. He nods but he doesn’t look pleased at her having been called on by the employer. Taking a step forward, she curtsies slightly before answering, “I couldn’t possibly say, Mr. Bridgerton, sir. I haven’t read the book.”

“Come now, (Y/N),” Benedict continues, his smile growing wider, “You must have an opinion.”

“Benedict,” Violet chastises, “Leave the poor girl alone. She’s only serving tonight as William has fallen ill. There is no need to badger her.”

Violet smiles at (Y/N) apologetically as she takes a step back to the wall, her hands held neatly in front of her. Conversation soon turns to another subject, another topic which gives (Y/N) the space to breathe; to slow her racing heart.

Benedict’s eyes continue to steal glances of her figure for the rest of the meal. It feels close to a brand; the heat of his gaze burns through whatever shield she has up to the point where she is certain Benedict has laid her bare for all to see. It’s all she can think of; his keen gaze and his words to her before the meal.

Trying her best not to fidget, (Y/N) keeps her eyes focused on the portrait of a Bridgerton ancestor hung on the wall across from her. She only rouses herself from her nerves to serve the courses of the meal. (Y/N) cannot help but thank any god or deity out there when the dessert course is brought up and the meal is soon brought to a close.

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

It is easy to avoid someone when you ask for extra duties, (Y/N) thinks to herself as she carries a pile of dresses to be mended. The muslin is smooth against her skin as she lays the dresses out on the mending table before turning to find the sewing kit. Thankfully, for the dresses, there was not much to be done but mend a few holes that had torn near the hem. The danger of heels and quick walking women, (Y/N) humours.

It had been a week since the conversation with Benedict; his words constantly playing on her mind until she wakes in the middle of the night with them on her lips, as if she were reciting the conversation in her sleep.

Benedict had tried to gain her attention; he had made clear attempts at wanting to talk to her. However, she simply curtsied and went on her way. She didn’t know what to say to him; she couldn’t understand how he – the son of a Viscount, no less – had fallen in love with her.

It felt preposterous; it felt too good to be true. Yet as the oil lamps are dampened for the night and the other servants in the house have fallen asleep, (Y/N) lets herself dream of what it could be like to be loved by Benedict Bridgerton. She wonders about the curve of his mouth; what it feel like, whether he would smile into their kiss. She thinks of his hands; his long, artistic fingers and she briefly ponders whether he had ever drawn her, whether in his many sketchbooks there lies a portrait of her.

When she’s feeling a particular glutton for punishment, (Y/N) lets herself dream of a life with Benedict where class status didn’t matter. She thinks of what it would be like to wake up to him every morning; to feel the heaviness of his arm wrapped around her waist as he rises to consciousness with the sun. She yearns to know what it would feel like to be able to reach over and take his hand in hers, tangling their fingers together as if they had always meant to be intertwined.

The longing for him is what breaks her. It’s what causes the tears to roll down her face as she lets herself accept the fact that she is sure she has known for a long time. She lets herself accept that she had met the cliché of so many housemaids before her by falling in love with Benedict Bridgerton a long time ago, before he had even come to know her existence.

-----------

The drawing room on the upper level of the house was where Violet Bridgerton spent most of her day. On occasion, her sons’ joined the family, but for the most part, it was her daughters that kept her company. Violet remains occupied by her stitching patterns; a garden of tulips for the birth of Anthony’s darling new baby, however, she keeps a weather eye on Eloise and Hyacinth – her only daughters to remain at home and unmarried.

“Eloise,” Violet murmurs, “Would you be a dear and ring for some tea. My throat is parched.”

Eloise pauses in her writing; so occupied these days, Violet thinks as her second eldest daughter rises to ring for the kitchen. “What are you working on?” Violet asks, curiosity getting the better of her.

Eloise frowns, collecting the papers out of fear anyone should read them. “I’m writing to Penelope if you must know.”

“Writing? She lives just across the way, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind you calling on her.”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t,” Eloise allows, “But there is nothing wrong with practicing my handwriting, is there mother?”

Violet smiles; a pained one that shows her exhaustion with her beloved daughter. “No, my dear. There is no harm in that.”

Eloise nods, smiling softly at her mother before returning to her letter. Violet watches her for a moment; the way her eyes read and reread the sentences written on the page – this was not a letter to Penelope; it was to a suitor. Violet knew full well, however, that Eloise would come to her when ready – she was not someone to be pushed into giving information.

Returning to her stitching, Violet finds that her attention is once more interrupted by the opening of the door. She sighs, placing the stitching down, curious as to whether she would get the piece done before the arrival of the sweet babe.

Turning to face the door, she is surprised to find her second-born, Benedict entering the room. His eyes, sad and his expression, solemn as he runs a hand again and again through his hair.

“Mother,” Benedict greets, leaning down to press a kiss to her ageing cheek. “May I speak with you about a private matter?”

Violet’s eyebrows furrow but she says nothing as she dismisses her daughters; each one complaining as they leave the room, closing the door behind them. At the click of the lock, Violet smiles warmly at her son – he was so different from Anthony and Colin, not the least interested in their games such as Pall Mall but would rather sit to the side with his sketchbook in hand. He had a boisterous streak; could play with the rest of them, but he had his moments where he fall into a tranquil state and produce artwork that could rival the greats.

Nerves tangling his stomach to pieces, Benedict begins to pace the room. His hands are hooked behind his back as he begins to pace backwards and forwards, trying to form sentences from the jumble of words in his mind. He knew, deep down, that whatever he should want to do with his life, his beloved mother would support him, but even Violet Bridgerton could not ignore the class lines so entrenched within society.

“Benedict, my dear, you’re beginning to make me dizzy. Stop pacing and tell me what’s wrong.”

Benedict pauses his pacing but does not sit down. Instead, he stands as still as a stone, hands gesturing wildly as he tries to form thoughts into sentences. Mouth opening and closing, he struggles of how to bring up the issue of love and marriage.

“You would never stand in the way of who we love, would you?” He finally asks, running a hand through his deep brown hair.

Violet frowns, “I would not considering they were within reason. Why? Have you fallen in love, Benedict?”

“I think… No. I know I have, but there’s a problem.”

“Are they a drunk?”

“No.”

“Do they gamble?”

“No.”

“Then whatever is the matter?”

“She’s a servant. A housemaid to be precise… in this house.”

Violet would be the first to admit that she is surprised by her son’s admission. Sighing, she pats the cushion next to her, urging her son to sit down. “Who?” she asks as Benedict falls into the seat beside her.

“(Y/N),” He admits, fiddling with the hem of his jacket.

She runs a hand through his hair, “Does she love you too?”

“I don’t know,” Benedict admits, “She ran off after I confessed.”

“Then I need to speak to her to find out once and for all,” Violet declares, smoothing out her skirts.

“Mother…” Benedict groans. Violet shakes her head, “Let me talk to her. I can reassure her in ways you cannot. I can tell her that I approve.”

“You approve?” He asks, shocked at the words leaving hid mother’s mouth. “I thought you would disapprove…”

“Because of her class? My dear boy, you have found your love match, that is all I wish for my children. Should (Y/N) feel the same then of course I approve. I would rather you be happy than miserable, my son.”

“Thank you, mother,” Benedict replies, kissing her cheek once again, “You’re truly the best there are.”

Violet blushes at her sons words, dismissing him with a wave of her fan. “Off with you, and ring for Jenkins before you go.”

Benedict bows before pulling the cord by the door. Leaving the room, Benedict cannot help the smile that crosses his face. He truly holds some hope that (Y/N) might feel the same as he does and if his mother should approve, then there should be no issue to their courting and their union.

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

(Y/N) wrings her hands together on entire walk to Lady Violet’s drawing room. Having been summoned by the Lady herself, this could be either of two things. One: she was about to find herself suddenly unemployed for reasons she did not yet know. Or two: Lady Violet knows about the conversation with Benedict.

Neither reason made (Y/N) feel particularly confident as she is shown into the drawing room. Her heart remains in her throat even as Lady Violet smiles at her warmly; gesturing for her to sit down across from her and take some tea.

Adding one lump of sugar to her tea, Lady Violet bluntly asks, “Do you love my son, (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) promptly drops her spoon into her tea causing it to splash on the table cover. “Oh!” She gasps, reaching for a napkin to clean up the mess as best she can, “I am so terribly sorry, Lady Bridgerton.”

Violet chuckles, “It’s no problem, (Y/N). Tea tends to wash out as I am sure you are well aware. I do not want to think of how many table cloths and dresses I have stained in my time… but I love the drink so many more stains are due to come.”

“My mother says that the world can be put to rights over a good cup of tea.”

“Your mother sounds very wise.”

“She is,” (Y/N) nods, smiling wistfully as she thinks of her mother with the fondness of a child. “I write to her nearly every day. She likes to hear about the city and what is happening. She feels as if the Bridgertons are her own family.”

Violet beams at that, “I am glad to hear it, (Y/N), but you have not answered my question.”

“I apologise, Lady Bridgerton.”

“Are you in love with Benedict?”

(Y/N) remains silent for a moment before beginning to nod her head. “I am. I know I am,” (Y/N) begins, “But…”

“But what?”

“I could bring nothing to the courtship and then nothing to the marriage. My family are not rich enough for me to have a dowry; I have no title or land; I barely know proper etiquette – I would offend everyone the moment I stepped through the door. On top of that, think of the social connections Benedict would lose – there would be families who would never speak to him again all because he had the rotten luck to fall in love with me.”

Violet’s blue eyes grow determined as she begins to list off: “You do not need a dowry; we have enough money as it is. There is no need for you to have a title or land, Benedict has his own homes. In terms of etiquette, you converse with me quite well, so I see no issue there. As for social connections, if people cannot see how happy you make my son then that is their issue, not yours and not Benedict’s.”

“What about the Viscount, Lady Bridgerton? Surely he has final say.”

A glimmer of something maternal shines in Violet’s eyes as she smiles. “Let me handle my eldest son. You have no reason to worry, (Y/N). Benedict loves you. I will not stand in the way of his happiness.”

“So you approve?” (Y/N) asks, forgetting herself for a brief moment before dipping her head in apology.

Violet dismisses her apology with a wave of her hand; after all, if things go to plan, she would be calling (Y/N) daughter in no time. “Do I approve of having to find another housemaid as talented as you? No, I do not. But do I approve of the lady that my son has given his heart to? Absolutely. To be entirely truthful, I would rather it be you than someone in society.”

“Thank you, Lady Bridgerton,” (Y/N) says gratefully, feeling the all too familiar prick of tears in the corner of her eyes.

“Now go,” Violet smiles, the familiar sting of tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, “Go find my son and tell him how you feel.”

Standing from the chair, (Y/N) curtsies with a smile before rushing from the room. Her mind in a daze as to what has truly happened just now.

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

(Y/N) finds Benedict in the library, sat awkwardly in one of the chairs with his sketchbook propped up in his lap. He’s focused entirely on the sketch at hand; his mouth set in a determined line as a finger delicately smudges part of his work.

For a single instant, (Y/N) watches Benedict in his element, finding that the butterflies in her stomach have turned from slumbering to a full blown riot at the mere sight of the man that had captured her heart. Still riding on the high from her conversation with Lady Bridgerton, (Y/N) steps further into the room. Benedict freezes in place at the sight of her stood by the stacks of books; her eyes are bright, and her skin flushed as she fiddles with the hem of her apron.

The painting flashes in his mind suddenly and his fingers twitch with the urge to turn the page of his sketchbook whilst simultaneously asking her to remain still so he can immortalise her on page. She’s perfect; she’s the perfect model and she doesn’t even realise it; Benedict thinks to himself.

“Spare me a moment?” She asks tentatively, as if worried of his reaction.

“All my moments are for you,” Benedict whispers honestly setting her heart racing in her chest. He stands from the chair, long legs coming out from under him as he leaves his sketchbook behind.

“All mine are for you too, if you’ll still have me…”

“What?”

“I love you too,” She confesses, voice small as she fiddles with her fingers, eyes cast on them – too scared to meet his gaze.

A finger under her chin has her meeting his deep blue eyes. Eyes that are alight with the happiness that surges through his veins; that highlight just how his heart sings at hearing those magical words leave her mouth.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” (Y/N) begins to ramble, “There is so much that is standing in the way for us, and I know you do not care or at least, I think you do not care but I cannot help but worry that if we were to happen, one day you would wake up and regret every moment of it. I am not from the same class as you, Benedict, I do not want to ruin you.”

A smile breaks across his face despite the stark desperation of her words. She furrows her eyebrows, half in curiosity, half in concealed frustration. “What are you smiling at?” She demands.

His hands move to cradle her face; thumbs rubbing over her cheekbones as he chuckles, “You called me ‘Benedict’.”

Thinking over her words, she smiles despite herself. “I suppose I did.”

“As for your worries: I do not think there will be one day in my future that I will not wake up and be grateful. However, that will only happen if you are in it – if I am waking up to you every morning. Darling, I do not think you can ruin me. I think you will be the making of me.”

“Do you promise? Not to regret me?” She whispers, a note of vulnerability in her voice.

“I promise,” He vows, pressing a kiss first to her forehead, then to her nose and cheeks. Then as he hovers above her lips, he whispers, “With every moment you spare me, I could never regret falling in love with you.”

******

Bridgerton Taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @janelongxox @aspiringsloth20 @wallwriterstuff @magicalxdaydream @darkestbeforethedawn16 @gryffindors-weasley​

Taglist is open! If you would like to be added, drop a message to my ask box and I shall add you to the list.

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict x reader #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagines #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton imagines

[ncteaxhoe]

can i request smut with innocent church boy mark lee?

a/n: oomffff we all just wanna corrupt morkie don't we? lmaoooo just kidding,,,, hope you like this!!

mark lee x female reader || smut (warnings: profanities, oral sex (m), unprotected sex (this is fiction, wrap it up irl), corruption kink (i guess?), first time for morkie and his hormones out of control lol) || word count: 1.8k

————————

church had just ended and mark was out in the parking lot with his parents, while they talked to their fellow church mates. he stood there, hands in his pockets and kicking the dust with his feet, not paying attention to the conversation going on in front of him. but his ears perked up at the mention of your name.

"oh yes y/n came home last night for the holidays." your mom said to mark's parents.

"she hadn't been home for 4 years now. just us visiting her over there everytime." your father spoke.

"yeah after school she went off straight to college right? wish we could have met her." mark's mother smiled.

"oh she should be here any minute." as soon the words left your father's mouth, you shouted from across the lot.

"mom! dad! i'm here." you waved at them enthusiastically.

you were older than mark by two years, but you had always been friends from when you were little.

mark couldn't stop staring at you. you were totally not what he had anticipated. you looked more mature than he had last seen you. you were wearing clothes which defined your curves at the right places and a bit of your skin exposed. mark gulped when you were started walking closer to them.

his gaze got fixated on your breasts. how they were perked up because of your bra and how your top just deliciously curved around them. mark couldn't help but think how it would feel to have his hands-

"hey mark." mark tore his gaze from your chest towards your face at your voice.

fuck. all the blood rushed down to mark's dick when he met your eyes.

"h-hey y/n."mark looked down, embarrassed and quickly held his hands in front of him to hide his growing boner.

"why don't you guys catch up while we adults go talk with our other friends?" your mom insisted and you waved at them bye.

you both walked a little distance to a bench on the side of the church.

"so, how have you been morkie?" you looped your arm with mark's while you walked. he blushed immensely by the use of his childhood nickname. mark failed to make eye contact with you throughout while you talked and you laughed at how innocent he still was, not to mention his erection still straining against his boxers.

that night he felt wrong but still jerked off to you, your name leaving his lips as he moaned quietly in his room.

———————–—

"ugh.” mark discarded his tenth shirt for the night.

him and his family had just moved to a different house and what better occasion than a house warming to invite you for a dinner. when mark had heard your family was coming over, mark didn’t know what took over him but he had showered made efforts to look decent. 

finally settling for a black t-shirt and a maroon shirt on top of it, combined with black pants, mark tamed his hair a bit and put on some cologne.

“mark come down, they’re here!” mark’s mom called for him.

mark was nervous as he came downstairs. his eyes widened when he saw you enter behind your parents. you were wearing a dress that hugged your curves and before he knew it, mark was staring at your chest again.

this time his gaze was broken due to his mother calling him. mark had stopped midway through climbing down and started staring at you. he cursed internally and stepped down the rest of the way. never had he cursed so much in his life until he saw you a few days ago, nor had he touched himself so much before.

throughout dinner, mark had tried to not look at you but failed terribly. and it was not like you were oblivious to his stares. you just thought it was really cute and had to suppress your giggles in front of your parents.

as the adults were settling for some drinks after dinner, mark's mom suggested that mark show you around the house.

"and y/n's parents already saw it last week, so why don't you give her a tour and maybe spend some time catching up?" his dad said.

"o-okay." mark stuttered, the thought of being alone with you immediately running through his mind.

mark showed you around the ground floor and then took you upstairs. he didn't know why but he bought you to his room at the last.

you entered his room with curiosity. mark was behind you and you suddenly halted, causing mark to bump into you. specifically, mark’s crotch into your ass.

"oh sorry." you mumbled without looking back and went ahead to examine mark's bookshelf. fun fact, you knew the effect you were having on mark right now. his flustered behaviour and slightly squeaky tone gave it all. and let's just say you had a few thoughts in your mind.

the shelf was a height causing you to stretch up on your tip toes to grab a book. you dress hiked up and most of your thighs and a little bit of your ass were on display for mark. if he had tried to control himself before, right now he couldn't. he could feel himself getting a boner around you, yet again.

"fuck." mark muttered and placed his hands in front of himself, turning away from you.

"what happened mark? did you say something?" you started walking towards him.

he jolted in surprise when you placed a hand on his shoulder, turning him around to face you. the smile on your face had mark gulping and almost rubbing his crotch on his hands.

"n-no. nothing." he looked everywhere but at you.

"i think you got a problem morkie." you said in the sweetest tone causing mark to whip his head to look at you, eyes wide and mouth open. he gulped once again when he saw you looking directly at his crotch.

"uh no! it's uh- it's nothing." you just laughed at his flustered behaviour and pulled mark to sit on his bed.

"what-" you placed a finger to his lips and pushed mark's knees apart, kneeling down in between them. you gripped his hands and removed them from his crotch. you could see the obvious tent in his pants.

you looked up at mark. "now morkie, do you think i didn't notice you staring at me?" you smriked at him. he looked at you with doe eyes. how could you use his nickname so sweetly when you were sitting in between his knees, face levelled with his boner?

"i- i, i swear i didn't mean to and-" mark tried to hide his crotch again, his boner growing by the second and his face becoming hot. you gently pushed away his hands and rubbed your hands up and down his thighs, slowly creeping up towards the tent in his pants.

"do you want this mark?" you whispered at him while batting your eyelashes.

you looked so heavenly at that moment that mark could just gulp and nod his head.

"i need some words baby." mark almost came in his pants at the name you called him.

"uh- yes." he spoke in a little voice.

he sucked in a breath as your hand came in contact with his clothed dick. he let out a small moan and bucked his hips as you gripped him hard over his pants.

"you're so cute morkie." you said as you unzipped his pants and took out his cock from his boxers. you licked your lips at his size. you gave a kitten lick to his tip and mark let out a whine. you swallowed him whole and squeezed the rest of his length with your hand. mark bucked his hips yet again, not being able to control himself.

you released his cock from your mouth and spoke, " it's your first time morkie, isn't it?" you grinned at him. mark threw his head back, eyes closed and just moaned as your hands did amazing work around his cock, now fully erect.

his eyes shot wide open as you abruptly halted all your movements.

"do you wanna feel my pussy morkie?" half mesmerised by you, he could only nod. you put on a show of removing your underwear and got into the bed next to him. you turned mark around so now he was facing you. your dress bunched up at your waist, you spread you legs open in front of him. mark stared at your wet core, his cheeks feeling hot.

you grabbed his fingers and brought them to your core. mark let out a small gasp when his fingers touched your arousal. "see how wet you've made me baby?" you smirked at him, queit moans falling out of you. mark's gaze was now fixated in between your thighs as you pushed down the top of your dress, your breasts now on display for mark.

almost fascinatingly, he pushed one of his fingers inside you and you let out a moan. mark couldn't help but think how it would feel to have his inside dick inside your warm core, your soft walls encompassing him.

"can i- um, can i be inside you?" he asked tentatively.

you laughed at how innocent he sounded while asking. you nodded at him and pushed him down on the bed so that he was laid flat. you pushed down his pants more and situated yourself on top of him.

you could see mark's nervousness written all over his face as his eyes grazed your body. "mark?" you called him and he looked at you. "tell me if you don't want to do this." he immediately started denying and telling how he wanted it. before he could overthink even more, you sat down on his cock and mark let out a loud moan.

you put your hands on his chest and started moving your hips up and down. you leant down and whispered in mark's ears to be queit since your parents were still downstairs.

before he knew it, mark was thrusting upwards meeting your hips desperately at this point. you guided his hands to your hips, so he can hold you in place.

"yes mark, faster!" you encouraged him with your moans and whimpers, and within seconds mark was cumming inside you. you clenched your walls around him and a whimper left his mouth, as his seed coated your walls.

mark's eyes suddenly shot open in panic, "wait! i came inside-"

"shhh," you pressed a finger to his lips, "it's alright, i'll take a pill." mark let out a sigh of relief but he still felt like a fool for doing that.

after catching a few breaths you spoke, "not so innocent now, hmm morkie."

now realising what had happened, mark was embarrassed as hell. you made fun of him while getting dressed up and both of you made your way downstairs, mark still embarrassed behind you.

"did you guys have fun catching up? i'm sure you must have had a lot to tell each other." mark's mom pulled you into her arms in an affectionate hug.

you smiled at mark and winked at him.

"we sure did."

a/n: yikes honestly don't know how it is. lmk pls.

#neosmutcollective #nct-writers #unfortunatus: inferno #kpopscape #neowritingsnet #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #mark lee #nct mark #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #mark smut #mark lee smut #nct scenarios #mark imagines #nct smut

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Extreme Aggressor: Final Part

Pairing: Eventual Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill, and angst

Summary: Jason Gideon is called back from a six-month leave from the Behavioral Analysis Unit to profile a killer. Meanwhile, the team flies across the country to Seattle when another young woman goes missing at the hands of "The Seattle Strangler," another serial killer.

Author’s Note: Here is it finally! After hard work, it is finally ready for your viewing pleasure! Please, feedback is always appreciated so let me know what you like about it and what you didn’t!

I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

So without further ado, please enjoy!

After the shocking news that Gideon presented, you were able to get a list and pictures of the people the police have interviewed. Gideon wanted you to look at them since you might be able to tell who the suspect in question was. The only name that stood out to you was Richard Slessman, and you couldn’t tell them how you knew this, but there was something about those eyes that just told you what you needed to know.

“You sure about this?” Gideon asked.

No matter how long he knew you, he always had doubts about the things you could do—even if those doubts were small.

“Are you really asking me that question?” you whispered, holding your gun close to your body as you hid while another agent went to lure Richard into this house. “The minute I passed his house, I could tell he was the one. His house reeks of spiritual energy.”

The woman known as Elle Greenaway, a woman who wants the other opening in the BAU, was bringing Richard to the abandoned house across the street from his own in order for the FBI to take him down. As soon as she entered the house, she began leading him into the room where everyone was. As soon as she gave the green light, the swat team in head-to-toe uniforms appeared and trained their guns on him. Elle took him down and began to read him his rights.

“Richard Slessman, FBI,” Elle said as she began to handcuff him. “You are under arrest for the murder of…”

Her voice trailed off as you and Gideon stepped into the light. Richard stared at you two for such a long time as if he knew something you two didn’t. As soon as they got him in handcuffs, you headed over to his house where the rest of the team was waiting. As soon as you entered the house, you could feel the energies of spirits that they left behind. While none of the victims died here, they did want you to know what something happened here.

“There's no sign of the girl here,” Spencer noted when Gideon walked in behind you. “We can arrest him with probable cause, but we won't be able to hold him.”

“Slessman's been at the top of the suspect list. Is that the mother?” Gideon asked when he saw an older woman sitting at the table with a distressed look on her face.

“Grandmother. The mother died in a fire when he was 13,” Elle informed.

“I’m going to check upstairs,” you told Gideon before going off on your own.

There was something calling you upstairs, but you didn’t exactly know what. The more steps you walked, the stronger the energy got. Derek was stationed inside of Richard’s room, but that’s not where you wanted to be. There was a door right next to his bed, and when you opened it, there was a staircase behind it. Climbing it, you saw Elle, Spencer, Gideon, and Hotch standing inside the attack.

“Oh, my God,” you whispered once you had both feet on the floor.

“What is it?” Hotch asked.

“Richard’s standing right next to you,” you muttered.

Hotch looked around him, but Richard was nowhere to be found.

“He’s downstairs.”

“Let her finish,” Gideon defended you.

Richard was on the phone, and although you couldn’t hear what he was saying, you could guess due to the stressed look on his face. He wasn’t getting anywhere with the person on the phone, so he hung up and turned on his TV. Gasping, your eyes widened at what you saw on the TV.

“He just got off the phone with someone, and he turned on the TV. There’s a woman on the TV, but she’s tied and gagged. Oh no, there’s a man with her, and he’s—oh God. Richard is sitting by the game that Spencer is looking at and starts to play himself. I can’t,” you whispered, looking away in pain.

“What kind of game is it?” Elle asked.

Richard misted away so that you were brought back to reality.

“In China, it's called wei-chi. Here we call it ‘go’. It's considered to be the most difficult board game ever conceived,” Spencer answered.

“Chairman Mao required his generals to learn it,” Gideon added.

“This might provide an advantage, actually. Go is considered to be a particularly psychologically revealing game. There are profiles for every player—the conservative point counter, the aggressor, the finesser, and more.”

“What kind of player is Slessman?” Hotch asked, looking at you to make sure you were okay.

“Extreme aggressor.”

“Well, we’re not going to find answers up here. We need to talk to Richard,” you said, crossing your arms.

Spencer, Elle, and Gideon nodded in agreement and left the attic. Hotch walked past you, but instead of leaving, he stopped by your side.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I don’t get to choose what I see. Sometimes, I don’t prepare for it. I mean, I see things like murder and rape, but I can’t ever prepare myself for it. I promise, I’ll be better at it.”

“You’re doing fine,” he said calmly.

He let you go down the stairs first, and you watched as Elle and Derek tried to figure out how to get into the computer that was apparently locked.

“Do you think you can break in? In 6 tries?” Elle asked.

“Try again. Fail again. Fail better,” Gideon said.

“Samuel Beckett,” you and Spencer said at the exact same time.

He looked at you, but you blushed and quickly looked away.

“Try not. Do or do not,” Derek argued.

“Yoda,” Spencer whispered to Gideon.

The fearless leader took one look at Richard’s shelf and noticed something familiar. He grabbed a book, but it wasn’t that he was interested in. Inside contained something far more personal to Gideon.

“I wanna talk to him. Y/N, will you come with? I want you to get a read on him.”

“Sure,” you nodded, walking past Spencer to follow Gideon to the kitchen where Richard was silently stewing.

The criminal looked at you two as you took a seat, and you crossed your arms as you just stared at him. Gideon was doing all the talking here, you were just here to see if you could get anything on him.

“You read my paper. Learn anything?”

“Heirens said a man living inside of his head was the one who committed the murders. You said he was lying, that there'd never been an actual case of multiple personalities.”

“You have an academic interest in dissociative identity disorder, or you just planning your defense?” Gideon asked. Since Richard didn’t say anything else, he opened the book he grabbed and pulled out the article that was stored inside. “You a fan of Adrian Baal's work?”

“No. I'm a fan of yours,” Richard smiled.

He leaned in to try and get under Gideon’s skin, and as soon as you got a whiff of his cologne, your vision got blurry. Richard, Gideon, the table, the article, and even the policeman who was standing behind Richard were getting darker, only for a new picture to replace them. It was Heather inside of a cage, but Richard wasn’t with her. It was a much larger man who approached the cage. His back was turned to you so you couldn’t see his face.

The only name you could see around the room was Timothy.

“Why don't you tell us where Heather Woodland is?” Gideon asked, bringing you back to reality.

“Woodland… Isn't she the girl that went missing a couple days ago?” Richard smile. Gideon had enough of him and motioned to the officer.

“Get him out of here,” Gideon said, getting up.

Staying where you are, you watched Richard get taken away, but his gaze was on you’re the entire time. Ever since entering this house, you’ve gotten two visions. Putting those together—Richard talking on the phone, his stressed look, the woman on the TV, the woman in the cage, the large man, and the name Timothy—there was another unsub.

There was another killer.

Getting up, you rushed out of the house to try and find where Gideon might have gone to. Once outside, you heard two men talking to one another and noticed it was the two superior men.

“Gideon! Hotch!” you exclaimed, rushing over to him. “There’s two unsubs. Richard didn’t kill those girls, someone else did. All I’m getting is the name Timothy. Does that help?”

“It does. Stay here with Morgan and Reid. Call me if you get anything else.”

“Okay,” you said, walking back into the house only to find Spencer inside Richard’s room sitting crossed-leg on the bed with every single CD this guy owned—opened and laying everywhere.

“What is all this?”

“Morgan thinks that the CDs might help us with the password.”

“Will it?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Can I help?”

“Be my guest,” he offered.

Looking at all of the CDs in the room, you tried to get a feel for the energies surrounding them—the more energy a CD has, the more that Richard used it. Looking at the CD shelf, you froze when you saw Richard standing there, looking through the different kinds of CDs.

“What is it?” Spencer asked, seeing as there was nothing by the CD shelf. “Is he here?”

“Yeah.”

“What is he doing?”

“Looking for a CD. There’s hundreds of them, but there is only one that he wants,” you noticed, walking closer to him.

He picked out a Metallica with a smile before heading up to the attic. As soon as Richard disappeared, you looked through each and every one of the CD cases until you found the one you wanted.

“What are you doing? Did you find something?”

“He chose this one,” you held up the Metallica CD.

“It’s empty.”

“Doesn’t the laptop have a CD port?”

“You’re right,” he whispered, grabbing something off the bedside table.

He walked upstairs with you trailing behind to find Derek almost on edge.

“We’ve been thinking about the CD's,” Spencer began.

“Oh, Reid, come on. We tried the CD's. We searched, sifted, and sorted through every one of this guy's head-banging heavy metal collection. We gotta find something, or this girl is dead.”

“Think you may have missed the obvious,” you said.

Spencer used the tiny pin in his hand to forcefully open the CD port on the side of the laptop. Inside was the missing CD case.

“What are you doing? Reid, what made you think of this?”

“It was the only empty case,” you shrugged, tossing the case to Derek.

“Alright. I'm an insomniac who listens to Metallica to go to sleep at night. What song could possibly speak to me?” Derek thought out loud.

Spencer eyed the back of the case before looking at his friend.

“Enter Sandman.”

“You sure?” Derek asked.

Once Spencer nodded, he typed the password into the computer, and low and behold, it unlocked. The only thing on the home screen was a video file, but it wasn’t just any kind of video…

It was a live one.

“Call Gideon,” you gasped once the video file was opened.

It was the same thing you have been seeing—Heather tired and gagged inside of a cage. Derek grabbed his phone and dialed the superior agent.

“Gideon, Heather's alive… 'Cause we're watching her right now.”

“I feel her pain and fear,” you whispered with wide eyes.

The swat team was called up to examine the video, and then they began searching the attic to see if they could find evidence of where this girl might be.

“Morgan, can you show me the last 12 images lined up next to each other?” Spencer asked.

“Yeah,” Derek muttered, doing as he was told.

“You see that? The light bulb hanging from the wire?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“It's shifting positions like it's swaying, like the earth is tilting.”

“Not the earth, doc,” you commented, “the ocean. That girl is on a boat.”

“Hotch, Heather is on a boat,” Derek said once he called Hotch. “It’s a pier or a dock. He wouldn't be able to transmit the webcam image from the middle of the ocean… It's the best we got, Hotch. Even if we're right, getting the exact location's on you, my friend… To work me a little magic.”

Just to be updated on Heather’s situation, you kept watching the video to see what might happen or if the second unsub, which was Timothy Vogel, went to get her. Apparently, when Richard was in jail, Timothy was the guard who befriended him and looked out for him. That was the man you’d been seeing in your visions when you saw Heather in the cage. The video was transmitting shot by shot, and in one shot, she was alone.

The second shot, Timothy was approaching her.

“Guys, he’s inside,” you panicked.

The panic you were feeling was mostly coming from her since her energy was strong enough to come through the camera.

“Get Elle on the phone,” Derek ordered as Spencer did what he asked.

Once the female agent was on the phone, Derek took the phone from her and started speaking, but you weren’t paying attention to them. Heather started fighting back and kicked Timothy in the face. She escaped the room, and once he did as well, you couldn’t get anything else.

“He’s gone. They’re gone. I can’t see them anymore,” you panicked.

“Elle and Gideon can handle this. Come on, we have to go,” Spencer urged.

This woman’s life was in danger, and you couldn’t be responsible for another dead body.

You wouldn’t allow that to happen.

“You thinking about doing this full time?” Gideon asked after Heather was rescued and Timothy was taken away.

Hugging yourself tightly, you looked at the other agents on the other side of the dock. Spencer, Derek, and Hotch were talking to one another, and Elle was talking with one of the officers.

“I am. I was trained to help people. It’s what my dad taught me to do.”

“I’ll put in a good word for you then,” he said, leaving your side.

“Thank you, Jason.”

The plane was silent since most of the agents were sleeping. Derek and Elle were comfortable on the couches, Gideon and Hotch were talking quietly in the middle of the plane, and you were sitting all by yourself in the corner, giving everyone their spaces since you have yet to feel like one of them.

“Nice job you did back there,” Spencer complimented you, taking a seat next to you with a coffee in his hands.

“Thanks, you too.”

“I’m having trouble understanding the things you can do.”

“What do you want to know?” you asked, closing the file in your hands.

“How long have you been able to do this?”

“All my life, I guess. I was born with it. I just have incredible sensitivity to people’s emotions. You know how some people know when they’re being watched? That feeling of eyes on you? Or when your gut is telling you something is bad or wrong? Well, this is my sixth sense.”

“Can you hear things?”

“No. Back at Richard’s house when I saw him talking on the phone, I couldn’t hear what he was saying. However, based on his looks and his emotional state, I had a clue. I’m kind of lucky I don’t hear what I see because if I did, I don’t think I could ever leave my house. I can close my eyes if it gets too much, but I can’t turn off my hearing.”

“So, you can get a read on me?”

“Yes, I can. Do you want me to try?” you chuckled.

Spending time with Spencer the whole ride home was something you can get on board with. You just met him, but there was something about him that just drew you in.

"When you look long into an abyss, the abyss looks into you." - Friedrich Nietzsche

wanna be tagged? add yourself to this document! if your tag doesn’t work, find out why!

@averyhotchner​

#extreme aggressor #series rewrite #criminal minds series rewrite #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds angst #cm #cm fic #cm fanfiction #cm angst #season 1 episode 1 #s1e1

[marindram]

full transcription of Marin's blog from Omega Mart!

huge thanks to @b0chelly for recording a scroll-through, which i typed this out from. (and warning for Omega Mart lore/story spoilers. second half is in reblog)

Marinknows.best

Location: Seven Monolith Village

Last Login: 12/31/2019

Profile Views: 101,275

About me: I love listening to music and glitter

Friends (0)

June 26, 2018

Happy Birthday to meeeeeeeeee!

So 14 feels way different than 13. For real. I think it's because I was expecting 13 to feel different, but sometimes when you expect something it turns out the opposite ya know?

Plus, 13 is like, "I'm new to being a teenager!!"

14 is more like, "I'm becoming the person I want to be." At least that's how I want it to be. I wanted to start this blog as a record of all that.

I should ask Did you guys feel the same way when you turned 13 and 14?

But probably nobody's gonna read this because I'm just a weirdo in the weird dessert. I mean, I know my best friend Jesse is reading this (hi Jesse). Besides her, crickets.

But yeah, if you are reading this and you don't know me - I live in Seven Monolith Village, a teensy tiny town that you've only heard of if you're into aliens or homesteading. And I'm literally stuck. As in, I'm physically unable to leave. My first memories are of all the adults in my life (Charlie, my great-uncle/father-figure - Rose, my what? Roommate? Mother-figure? Pseudo-aunt? All of the above? and my mom, Cecelia. who doesn't live here) telling me that for some reason, there's something wrong with me that makes it so I can't leave a certain radius of where we live. I got older and thought that they were just exaggerating to keep me safe, but then last year I tried. And it was, let's just say not good.

Anyway. That part of my life sucks, but not everything sucks. This year is all about Marin Dram 2.0. Not new, but definitely improved.

And maybe someday, somehow somebody will read this and care about what I have to say. Somebodies, even. Until then, this is Marin Dram signing off and sending my lame contemplations into the void!

July 1, 2018

Things I Want To Do Before I Turn 20 (and some of these will never happen like are literally unable to happen but JUST LET ME DREAM

1. Kiss someone (who???)

2. Meet HTB (kiss him) (jk he would never) (plus meeting him would be enough)

3. Go to Paris

4. Go to Rome (or somewhere cooler in Italy, look up where is the best pasta???)

5. Go to Greenland (why not???)

6. Go to New York City

7. Go to LA (with a dream and my cardigan lol)

8. Go to the Grand Canyon (this isn't mine, but 9, Jesse is sitting right here and she went to the GC when we were 12 and she's like blah blah blah it's my favorite place in the world and you'll love it. I'm doing this so she'll shut up.

9. Live in a normal house with normal rooms → ideally 12 of them: living room AND TV room, kitchen, dining room, 3 bathrooms, 3 bedrooms, study/library.

-plus an upstairs downstairs

-I'm willing to compromise on the number of rooms as long as there's more than ONE for TWO PEOPLE and I got my own

-plus an upstairs/downstairs

-I'm willing to compromise on the number of rooms as long as there's more than ONE for TWO PEOPLE and I get my own room with an actual door. Very into doors.

10. Go to a mall (Jesse says there's a bunch of bonkers ones in Vegas)

11. Make friends who aren't Jesse (no offense, Jesse)

12. Get Cecelia (my "mom") to teach me about business stuff so I can open my own cool coffeeshop/bookstore someday

13. Learn to drive (ask Charlie to teach me, he's obsessed with his truck) (Jesse says she can teach me because she's Little Miss Mechanic and thinks she knows everything about cars but news flash Jesse: you're you get than me)

14. Figure out my signature style- like I want people to send me pictures of things and be like "this just screamed Marin" and for that to be true

15. Liquid eyeliner??

16. I'm stopping here because I just read over all this and want to die/cry because easily 3/4 of these are literally impossible?

17. Kill me

18. Bye

19. Lololol Charlie just came in and I was complaining about this, not being able to leave and stuff, etc and he said that I should visit new places by... reading books?? And I mean I like to read. But dude. That's the dumbest thing I've ever head.

July 30, 2018

Okay so this is what I want my life to look like:

I want a pink room. Not just pink... P I N K. Cool pink wallpaper (floral? jacquard??), pink carpet, lots of pink flowers everywhere, a four-poster bed with a pink silk canopy, lots of cool pink throw pillows. Like, so pink that

people think I'm being sarcastic! Oh, and BOOKS. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases, and some of the shelves have, like, STUFF on them that isn't books, like gifts people gave me, or things I've collected on my JOURNEYS. You know, normal stuff that people who live on normal places and do normal things have.

If I lived in in this room, it'd be in awhite three-story house at the end of a cul-de-sac (did you know "culs-de-sac" is the plural? Not "cul-de-sacs"? crazy) and I'd wear very classic girly clothes and my hair would always do what I wanted it to. It'd be one of those towns that people call small, but it's actually a city. just one with a kinda small, cozy feeling. Somewhere that gets cold enough to wear cute jackets but not so cold I have to to like, shovel my driveway. Not a non-place with like 100 people where you can't even go outside without going crazy.

August 2nd, 2018

I guess I should explain where I live, for all my avid fans out there! (lol) (hello??)

So like... I don't live on Earth. At least, not the Earth you think of when you think of EARTH. I live in some some weird off-brand version of Earth called the Forked Earth where there are aliens and magic wells of magic energy and everything is MAGIC but like the crappy kind of magic, where the sun never fully rises and some goo called "runoff" has made everything wacky and oh yeah, my mom is responsible for that and everyone here hates her!! LOL

Also, I can't leave! Like, literally can't! Rose says I'm a "special child of Source" and that's why but that LITERALLY explains tells me nothing, in fact it just raises further questions that no one can seem to answer! AHHHHHHHHHH

Anyway, the last time I tried to leave I felt. When I try to leave I feel like I'm being pulled back by something, like you know those old cartoons where someone's on stage doing something dumb and then someone offstage pulls them away with a giant shepard's crook? It felt like that, and when I opened my eyes I was back in 7 Monolith Village. UGH.

I know this sounds crazy!!!!! But believe me when I say that I am the least crazy person here. Also, """here""" is C R A Z Y. Runoff has made everything the bad kind of psychedelic and then people here actually DRINK IT! Not only do I not DRINK THE STUFF THAT HAS MADE THE WORLD INSANE, I also do not talk to aliens (or whatever Nula are) like Rose or believe crazy conspiracy theories like Charlie, so I believe that qualifies me as the most normal person in the Forked Earth, thank you for this honor, I accept this award with humility and grace!

September 4, 2018

I had the weirdest dream last night?? I was swimming in a pool full of cereal, and when I came up for air, my mom was pouring milk on my head like she was rinsing my hair. She had her hand over my face like I was a little kid and she was shielding me from soap getting in my eyes.

Anyway I have no idea what it's supposed to mean. I went to bed hungry and I need to take a shower? Lol

October 16, 2018

I was trying to hide this entry from Jesse, but JESSE IS A NOSY PERSON. She says that blogs are for readers, and if I wanted something to be private then I should "Just write in a fucking notebook and hide it under your bed like a normal person, Marin." I'm allowed to have secrets!! Anyway, I'm making her a freaking playlist, that's why I wouldn't tell her what I was writing about. but EVEN STILL! I'm allowed to have secrets!! But I have this blog because I wanna get my feelings out, I wanna see everything in my head typed out all nice in a way that doesn't make it look insane. You know? I don't know who I'm asking.) Because, it's not like I go to a normal school or have a normal life where I'm surrounded by normal people I can talk to. No one knows about me! I'm trapped in this crazy place and This blog is my only outlet to the world outside. I KNOW that's heavy but it's true! The point is: Jesse's birthday is coming up. The central consistent thing in pretty much my whole life is sharing headphones with her and listening to music. The soundtrack to my entire existence is her. I wish I had money and could buy her the best presents of all time, but I can make her the best playlist of all time. I want it to be so good it feels like magic. I want her to think I'm magic. I had another dream the other night. I don't remember much, just glitter. I must be crafting too much. Or looking at festival makeup tutorials. Or both.

November 12, 2018

WARNING- Weird thoughts ahead, lol.

I can never tell which feelings are normal, and which are me being a giant weirdo. But for as long as I can remember, I've had this feeling like every part of my body that's possible to have a ribbon tied around it, has a ribbon tied around it. It's so weird. I can't see the other end of the ribbons - how far they go. where they're attached, nothing. And sometimes it's fine, because sometimes I can hardly feel them. I can forget about them for days at a time, weeks, months if I'm lucky. But then other times I can feel them like, pulling at me. It's freaking spooky, to have something pulling at you from somewhere you can't see. I can't tell if it's pulling me toward whatever it is? Or if it's trying to warn me? Or if I'm just insane??

Does that make sense? Does anybody else feel that way? (she asks into the void)

So idk I guess this ribbons-feeling is why I'm really careful all the time. Like I'm just a careful person. Charlie tried to give me a hard time about it, and I can't be like "I don't wanna pull back in the ribbons too hard without realizing it and wreck something!" because he'd be like "WTF Marin, do we need to get you help?" But also, more and more, I want to be the opposite of careful. I want to take a pair of comically oversized scissors and cut the ribbons into so many pieces that nobody can even tell what they are any more.

I don't know why I'm such a freak, only that I am. I don't know why I can't leave 7 Monolith, only that I can't. But there must be a reason, even if I can't see it, and I feel like it makes sense that the ribbons-feeling is part of that reason, right?

There's just a lot.

January 15, 2019

Happy new year! Lol I forgot to write on the actual first day of 2019, but OH WELL!

I got this new glitter nail polish, thanks to the monthly makeup subscription box my "mom" sends me as an outlet for her abandonment guilt. It has like, every color glitter imaginable without quite reading as "rainbow" which is fine just not really what I was in the mood for and it's vaguely halographic and shifts into all these different colors depending on the light. I'm obsessed. Anyway.

I was putting on another layer because I chipped it like 20 minutes into wearing it, and all of a sudden I had this feeling like I recognized the glitter? Like I felt this thing way deep in my gut and for a minute I couldn't breathe. It's the closest thing I've felt to how books and movies make Christmas look. Like I was home, with family, cookies and cider and all that stuff. Familiar and safe. I almost didn't recognize that feeling. And it came from the nail polish. How weird is that.

I mean, I don't want to make it sound like I've had this awful Charles Dickens childhood - Rose and Charlie are the best ever and always there for me and I love them a lot. But things never feel like...home. You know?

My mom always says this cryptic stuff about how I'm "special" and I wanna strangle her because I'm not, but you try getting my mom to stop doing anything she wants to do. Rose told me once that one day, I would "lead the charge into a new era of existence and access" because I'm "of the Source" and I was like uhhhh okay?? Charlie mostly treats me pretty normal, except when I ask him questions about our family. my mom or any Dram. He knows that I want to know more about them and he's my only real entrypoint, but apparently he's like the black sheep of that whole family. He and my mom were close way back right before I was born, but now whenever she comes to visit he barely even looks at her.

So that's to say: nobody tells me anything, ever.

January 16, 2019

Okay this is so weird. I wrote that entry yesterday about glitter and then last night I dreamed about glitter. Then I woke up with purple glitter in my bed?? Like not a lot, so at first I thought it was from my nail polish, but it was just a handful of purely purple glitter that looks nothing like my nail polish. SO WEIRD!!!!!!

February 14, 2019

Rose has an old book full of "ye olde" style fairy tales, and I flipped through it for the first time in forever today.

Not so weirdly, I've always been drawn to the story of Rapunzel.

Rapunzel couldn't leave the tower, or else she'd break her neck and die.

Same.

February 19, 2019

I was reading this article the other day in one of the teen magazines my "mom" gets me a subscription to and it was all about body positivity, which is great, but it was basically just like "wear a crop top if you wannna wear a crop top! it doesn't matter what size you are! You go, girl!" And like, sure. Yes. I am all for that. But doesn't it seem like there are some steps missing in there? Like, I can physically put on a crop top and wear it outside. But how do I convince myself that everybody isn't looking at me and making fun of me in their minds? How do I unlearn the last almost-fifteen years? How do I get actually positive about my body, not just put on a crop top and fight the urge to cry all day?

It's the same thing like when my mom sends me brochures from the CEO camp she ten when she was my age (her dad started the camp for her, which is an insane thing just by itself, but she did all the work, which is even more insane) and she's like "Marin, you lack direction for your life" and I'm like, cool mom. Yeah. I can see that. What I can't see is how to get there from here.

March 2, 2019

This is what I want my life to look like, volume 2:

The walls of my room are covered in Polaroids of me and my friends. There are lots of mirrors in all kinds of shapes. hearts and moons and stars. There's a record player and a lot of vintage records by Billie Holiday and Lena Horne and Peggy Lee and Nina Simone. And Christmas lights! Everywhere! Lots of of pink and purple Christmas lights everywhere.

If I lived in this room, I'd have so many friends and be part of so many clubs. My best friend would have a collection of vintage cameras, and every place we go to that has a photo booth, we'd get photos taken. Every time I'd look at myself in one of those mirrors, I'd feel happy at what I see and never weird or sad. (Jesse hates taking pictures, so even when I actually do normal stuff with her there's no evidence. What even is a life supposed to be without evidence? That's not an actual question you need to answer Jesse, it's just a question)

Anyway, if I lived in this kind of room, my mom would probably be like, an art history professor at a liberal arts college. That's how come everything looks so cool, because I would know stuff about art. My mom and I would love to try new recipes together. We get each other new cookbooks for every special occasion, and right now we're working out way through a Moroccan one. Moroccan Mondays.

In actuality, there's a dust storm happening outside and my eyes sting.

March 9, 2019

Here's what I'm obsessed with lately.

Can. You. EVEN???

February 3, 2020

Omg I totally forgot this blog existed!!

I lost the password and instead of just resetting it I got in one of my super stubborn moods (Taurus moon lol) and just kept putting in guesses and jokes on me, it locked me out. Anyway, that's a boring story.

But my friend Ximena is really good at hacking and stuff, so she got me back in. Yeah you read that right - I have friends. Obviously a lot has happened since my last post. Ximena moved out here a couple months ago (X's family used to live here but they moved away a while ago) and she introduced me to Lora who I sorta-not-really already knew, and Jesse and I have been hanging out with them a ton. Jesse kind of more than me. Which is fine!!

Anyway I'm 15 now? If I lived somewhere normal I'd be psyched about almost being 16, because I'd get a car and have a Sweet Sixteen and eat a huge PINK cake, but I don't!

February 16, 2020

I read this fanfic the other night that was written in the second person so everything was like "you." "you're doing this" etc you know?

So... You go to a drive-in movie with Heartthrob Boy, and he spills soda on you by accident. And you take off your shirt ( you have a tank top on, don't worry) to clean it up, bit you're still all sticky and self-conscious about being sticky and HTB like... used his tongue to get it off??? AAHHHHH I'M DISGUSTING

but also I wonder if a boy will ever touch any part of me with his tongue

March 2, 2020

Hi I don't know if you heard but I have friends :)))

March 15, 2020

I think I'm so into painting my nails and doing my hair because those are things that always fit. I don't have to worry about places not carrying about a size 8, or places that carry XLs but when you read the measurements they're actually size 8s too and it's like jesus if that's an XL what am I

My "mom" was confused why I needed new pants because mine still look new, but I showed her the thigh holes and she was like "that's a weird place for a hole, how did that happen" and I realized that when your legs are a certain size, you just don't know about thigh rub and what it does to clothes. Pants could just last for years.

No matter what, I can paint my nails with a different color nail polish on every finger, and I can always do a braid crown. And I know I'm cute as hell, etc, so this is not a Marin Needs to Learn to Love Herself thing. It's just an UGH thing

April 17, 2020

So Rose does all these Source experiments on plants and flowers and stuff. Tbh, it's just one if those things I hardly even register anymore because it's just always there. She's explained to me a million times what Source is/does/means, but the way Rose explains things sometimes is just a LOT to take in and she refers to me as a "child of Source" but I kinda figure that's like "child of God" right? What else would that mean?

But anyway, it's really annoying because dried flowers are a part of my new aesthetic and I pinned a bunch of them up on my wall but I woke up this morning to a freaking jungle of very alive flowers. I freaked out. on Rose, and she Rose said she didn't do it and I was like WELL THEN WHO DID and she said that I did??

Which like. Obviously that doesn't make sense. I asked her what she meant and She just shook her head and said " It's happening. We should have known" which is some horror movie shit that she refused to elaborate on. I love to feel safe and normal!!

Or maybe it's not a horror movie at all. But maybe it's a superhero movie? Maybe there's some kind of origin story I don't know about yet, and all of this will be worth it once I figure out my powers. I wonder what my costume will look like. Lol.

April 23, 2020

Is it possible to die from longing? I know that sounds melodramatic, but I'm also kinda serious?? Because it seems like one of those things that could fester and get infected and kill you. It's like when you fall down and bang up your knee, and you need to put a band-aid on the scrape for a while, but THEN you need to air it out - but how do you know when you're supposed to do each one of those things? And if you do either one too much, your knee gets infected. What if I smother my heart with band-aids for too long and it gets infected? This isn't about anybody. I just keep having these dreams about someone I never expected to have dreams about and they're so intense that they keep leaking into my life and I wonder if I need to do something about them.

May 2, 2020

So Jesse's gotten really into metal music, and I tried to get her to play me something since, AS PREVIOUSLY ESTABLISHED, that's what we've literally ALWAYS DONE with music and each other, and she kinda looked at Ximena out of the corner of her eye and said like "I don't think it's really your thing" And it was the meanest thing anybody's ever said to me.

So later I looked up Zenion, the band she was talking about, and I listened to every single fucking song they've ever recorded turned up as loud as it could go with my own headphones that are better than hers anyway, and I loved it. And I didn't love it just because she said I wouldn't. I loved it because it was loud and weird and wild and when I listened to it it made me feel like it's not crazy when so feel stuff so hard it's like my heart's gonna vibrate out of my body. And I would have told Jesse all this and we could have shared it, but I guess she thinks just because I like HTB and glitter and stuff, I don't have the capacity for anything else.

She clearly doesn't know me at all. So much for any kind of whatever, why would she ever want to kiss someone she clearly sees as like a stupid baby.

May 7, 2020

The dreams are getting weirder and they're happening more. I'm getting scared to go to sleep. Not that the dreams are always scary (they almost never are, or not scary like in a typically scary horror movie way). I mean, I've only ever been me. I don't know what other peoples' dreams are like.

The other night in one I was jumping on a trampoline, which is something I've never done in real life. I told Rose about it when I woke up, and she said "do you even know how to jump on a trampoline?" and I said "Rose, it's not like riding a bike. You don't have to learn. You just jump." and then we got into this whole thing about how some things we just know, and jumping's one of them, and how that's so weird. Sometimes I really like talking to Rose about stuff.

May 19, 2020

So, it's prom season in the real world. If I lived somewhere normal, my prom dress would be pink with lots of tulle and silk flowers at the shoulders, and it would fit perfectly and trying in dresses would be fun and not anxiety-inducing.

But since there are only like 10 teenagers currently in 7MV, were not having a homecoming. Cool.

May 27, 2020

So, mom came to visit this weekend, and I asked her about her prom. She was Typical Cecelia at first, very "Prom is a waste of time and money, Marin. It's a night when lesser people play dress-up to engage with their aspirations of grandeur." And I was like eyeroll forever and just stopped talking. BUT THEN she actually talked to me like a human being. She was like, "I actually didn't go to my prom" and when I asked her why she said that she didn't have a date, and was very self-conscious about it. I almost passed out at her admitting that she's ever been anything less than perfect.

(gonna continue this in reblog)

#omega mart #marin dram #omega mart lore

[wannabemobwife]

Guns, Glamour, and Goodfellas - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: A Little Party Never Killed Nobody

Dad!Mob!Tom Holland x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x reader, Parker Holland x Charlotte Owens

-Warnings: Language, Blood, Death, Fighting

-Words: 3.6K

Author note: I really love this chapter. I love all the comments and would appreciate nice constructive criticism (please don't butcher my work lol) if you want. Feel free to leave in the comments or message me directly your feelings while reading the chapter :))

Chapter 3: A Little Party Never Killed Nobody

Word: 3.6K

“Haz are you okay mate?” Tom asked, seeing Haz freak out, they were about to land at Heathrow, on their way back from Dublin.

“No, I just heard from my neighbor that Henry never came home last night. With everything that happened yesterday, I’m just worried. I hope he is not lying in a ditch somewhere.” Harrison explained.

“He probably crashed at ours, everything will be ok.” You said as you comforted Haz. Oh boy, were you wrong.

Back at home, Parker awoke to his impending death once you and Tom, his parents’, find out what happened to their beautiful mansion. One party did all this damage. The curtains were torn down, there was red party cups everywhere and all the liquor bottles were displayed on the table. One amazingly epic party did all that.

“Bloody hell! That’s it I’m dead. I’m dead. I will never be allowed to leave this house ever again.” Parker said to himself. Picking up his phone he noticed 4 missed calls from you. Each one had a message and if there was one thing he knew about you is that you only left more harsh and frantic voice messages the more you called.

He only played the most recent one, you sounded really peeved “PARKER JACKSON HOLLAND! Please call me, I’m worried about you. I can’t get in touch with the staff either. I will be home in 20 mins, you better have a good fucking explanation for everything.” Parker’s eyes nearly flew out of his head when he saw that was sent 15 mins ago. Any moment now he would hear the Rolls pulling into the driveway.

The poor kid could only move so fast, he quickly gathered the liquor bottles and threw them into a plastic trash bag along with all the red solo cups that seem to be multiplying. All the meanwhile corralling all the squatters, from last night, who crashed there. He found some people by the pool and others passed out in the dining room. Running like a madman through the house, he caught a glimpse of what would be the reason for his demise. The door to Tom’s office was open. He swore to god he locked it, someone must’ve broken in. They could’ve taken anything, all the information about the mob was stored in that one tastefully decorated room. Parker quickly shut the door and hoped nothing would happen, he couldn’t live with himself if this one stupid party cost his family their livelihood.

“Rosie? Henry? Where are you guys? Mum and dad will be home any minute, I need your help.” Parker called out throughout the house. He didn’t expect Rosie to show up because of their fight last night, but where the fuck was Henry.

You and Tom pulled up along with Harrison in the black Rolls Royce, coming to a screeching halt. You all walked along the cobble stone path to the two large, intimidating front doors. You all simultaneously freaked out when you saw the door was ajar. Tom and Haz pulled out their guns and made it a priority to keep you safe by shoving you behind them. You all had no idea what you could be walking into.

Tom whispered to Haz to split up, Haz took the East Wing while Tom checked the main rooms. Rounding the corner he could her footsteps.

“Darling, stay behind me. I don’t want you getting hurt,” Tom whispered and you nodded in response.

“On the count of 3. 1, 2, 3,” Tom screamed as he jumped out, holding his gun straight ahead. He found his son disheveled, carrying grocery bags filled with empty beer cans and liquor bottles.

“DON’T SHOOT! DON’T SHOOT! Holy fuck! Dad is that you?” Parker screamed, dropping the bags to the ground, glass shattering and raising his hand up in innocence. Scared for his life her quickly caught his breath when he realized who it was.

“Parker, what the hell? Why the fuck was the door opened…. wait? Did you have a party!?!” Tom thundered as he realized what his son did. His voice gradually growing more furious. Parker just stood there with a shameful look on his face.

“Mum, dad. How was Dublin?” Parker sneaked to quickly change the subject.

“Don’t try to get out this, explain now!” You scolded, just as furious as Tom

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did it, I just needed to blow off steam.” “What the fuck do you think a sorry is going to do? I run a fucking mob, Parker. Are you a fucking idiot? Parker, for fucks sake, anyone could have stolen some information from my office or gotten into the gun room. What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I’m not that much of a div, I locked your office and I don’t know,” Parker explained.

“You’re not as dumb as I thought. Hope you were smart enough to lock the liquor cellar too,” Tom concluded.

“Yeah…about that,” Parker mumbled as Tom ran off to his liquor room. A loud clash and curse sounded throughout the house when he laid his eyes on his ransacked priceless collection.

“Mum, say something?” Parker pleaded with you as you just stood there in silence.

“2 months. You’re grounded for 2 months. No dates or parties, just school and home. I don’t think you understand how lucky you are that nothing serious happened here.” You said, your voice drenched with disappointment. “I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been thinking about what dad and you asked me and —” Parker whispered as he was soon cut off by Haz walking in.

“Did you find Henry?” Haz interrupted.

“No, I’m going to check upstairs. Will you check on Tom?” Harrison nodded as you ascended the staircase. Making your way through the halls, coming upon Rosie’s room.

“Roo, honey you awake?” You said walking into Rosie’s room

“AHHHH! Oh my fucking god! Rosie!” You screamed at the sight in front of you. Your sweet, slightly bad tempered daughter asleep with a boy in her bed.

“Darling? You alright?” Tom yelled from downstairs after hearing your scream.

“Mum, what are you doing here?” Rosie exclaimed frantically.

“Hi, Y/N.” Henry whispered, praying he wasn’t going to be berated. You were a mother figure to him after his own mother left his father and never looked back. “This is my house and hi Henry. What the fuck is Henry doing here in you bed? What the fuck are you doing here?” You questioned bouncing between the two of them to get some answers.

“I can explain. But, firstly are you gonna tell dad?” Rosie inquired.

“The fact that he is already fuming downstairs, no. Not right now. And please explain, you have 5 seconds, but first you need to get Henry out of here.”

“Thank you mom, I just don’t —.“

“Ehh, eh, eh! Shut it, I’ll deal with you later,” you barked.

“Henry, I suggest you take the window and your dad is looking for you,��� you said.

“Shit! Thanks Y/N… I mean Mrs. Holland” Henry said as you shot him a glare.

The moment Henry was in the clear, Tom barged in with his gun in hand. Someone needs to tell this man to put it down. All morning he has been traumatically scarring his kids for life, first with Parker and now Rosie.

“What? Is everyone all right? I heard a scream.” Tom exclaimed out of breath.

“Umm, yeah. I just saw a spider.” You stuttered.

“Oh love, you can kill a man in cold blood but can’t handle an itty bitty spider,” Tom joked as he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“You're afraid of them too, Thomas.” You quipped with a side eye. If looks could kill, yours definitely would.

“And for you missy, you’re grounded along with your brother.” Tom said, looking down on Rosie. “Me? What did I do?” Rosie asked in a high pitched voice. “You attended this party correct? And since this is also your house, you threw it by association. Am I right?” Tom inquired.

“I guess so,” Rosie huffed.

The twin’s exile was worse than they prepared for. Not only were they responsible for cleaning up the entire mess but they were given a list of chores to complete. This was no ordinary list. It was devised by you and Tom along with inputs from the maids and capos.

On it read:

Wash the Rolls

Clean the guns

Reorganize the pantry

Mow the lawn

Re-order all stolen liquor and stock the liquor room

Drain the pool, clean the pool, fill the pool back up again…

The list was never-ending. Each task more pointless than the next. It went on forever. The household staff was happy for their load was to be lessen for a couple weeks, unlike the kids. Harrison even forced Henry to partake in the chores.

The kids were only a couple days into their quarantine and were already going stir crazy. Parker was having withdrawals from Charlotte, missing her even more. The boy was whipped for her, really smitten. They would talk the night away. Some nights never getting any shut eye as their conversations would prolong hours.

Parker couldn’t believe this was where he was now. One night of unadulterated juvenile fun equated to 2 months of misery. Today was Charlotte’s birthday and he was supposed to take her to the London Eye on a surprise birthday trip, but all his plans were ruined the moment his parents came home and grounded his sorry ass.

“I can’t believe your parents grounded you. Assholes.” Charlotte said over the phone, fuming he couldn’t celebrate with her.

“I can’t go babe. I really wish I could but I’m grounded for life remember.” Parker said, the cold shoulder Tom and you had been giving him was killing him.

“Parker its my birthday. You have to come,” Charlotte pleaded

“There’s no chance in hell I’m allowed to leave.”

“Geez you just threw a party, it’s not like you killed someone,” Charlotte added. He might as well have. If he killed someone he wouldn’t be burdened with this punishment, probably praised instead, carrying on the family tradition.

“Just sneak out. Come on, we are all going to this nightclub downtown. It’s gonna be awesome. And I’m such a good girlfriend, I can’t let you miss it.” Charlotte pleaded.

“Alright, Char you wore me down.”

“I knew it. Pick you up at 11 tonight.”

“Park around the block, I’m going to have to climb out my window. Remember my house is like a fortress.” Parker said. He wasn’t lying.

Meanwhile, Tom was in and out of meetings in his office all day. He received one odd phone call in particular from his dad, Dominic Holland. “Hi dad, how are you” Tom said as he picked up the phone.

“I’m fine son, so how did the talk with Parker go. I’m excited to teach him all my mobster tricks,” Dom exclaimed. “Actually dad, he reacted like I did.”

“Oh well, he will come around just like you did” Dom said encouragingly.

“I don’t know if he will. Anyway it wouldn’t be so bad if he had his own path in life.” Tom murmured trying to stick up for his son’s decision.

“Tom, you know what will happen to this family if that happens,” Dom yelled.

“I know dad. I just don’t want him to feel trapped, like you did to me,” Tom exclaimed growing more annoyed by the minute.

“What I did to you got you to where you are today. Your life is thanks to me son and don’t you forget it,” Dom said with a stern, menacing voice.

“Understood sir,” Tom quipped. “Maybe Parker needs a push, in the right direction.” “Dad, I swear to god, don’t fucking do anything. Y/N and I are handling this” Tom yelled. “We’ll see how that turns out” Dom ended the phone call. Leaving Tom frustrated that his father sees him as his own puppet.

The night soon fell and Parker’s plan had been put into motion. He bribed a few of the Tom’s men with his allowance to let him sneak past. He jumped out the window, carefully walked on the roof as to not slip and make any noise. Finally on the ground, he scaled the iron fence to be met with Charlotte’s ice blue eyes. She was dressed in a pink party dress that hugged her figure perfectly.

“Wow princess, you look *chef’s kiss. Happy birthday baby,” Parker said while making his way back to the ground.

“Thanks doll. Now come on, before someone catches us,” she yelled whilst hopping into her silver Mercedes.

Arriving at the nightclub, everything was in full swing for 11 o’clock at night. Parker, Charlotte and her other friends were treated like royalty the moment Parker let his name slip.

“Right this way Mr. Holland and I will have someone bring you a bottle of champagne, on the house of course,” the hostess said as she sat them at their table.

“Oooo fancy, you should drop your name more often,” Charlotte whispered in Parker’s ear.

“Oh it was nothing, love.” Parker said while pouring himself and Charlotte a glass of bubbly. “Seriously Parker, how’d you do this? If I didn’t know any better I’d say your dad owned the club or something,” Charlotte said dumbfounded, causing Parker to choke on his champagne at her remark.

It was amazing what power could do. Having enough power to make your enemies disappear was unimaginable. Parker knew what turning down his father meant. He would have the name and the look of a Holland, but he wouldn’t be one anymore.

How could he give all that up. He enjoyed his cushy lifestyle. Sure it was day after day of worrying about your image but, he felt as though he belonged in that world. How could he go on being a kid for two more years knowing there was a metaphorical expiration date on his life.

He desperately wanted to want to be like them, his family. You, his mother, are the strongest person he knows. Having you in his life keeps him grounded, literally at the moment. Also his dad, Tom is a very loving and amazing father. He was there at all the football games (English football) cheering him on and at the spelling bees, also when he felt his first heartbreak, Tom was there.

Family has been the one constant in his life. Now it was being eclipsed by power, a power that could ruin lives or affect change. Turning his back on his family means they would never get see his future.

No one would be there at his graduation from college or when he first child was born, only Charlotte would be there. The girl he hoped to marry and have his kids. He couldn’t give up his future with her, no way. Parker eyes glanced at her, mesmerized by her beauty. He thought to himself, “This was it. This, she is all I’ll ever need, my princess.”

Most of Parker’s pet names for Charlotte were derived from Tom. He had heard his dad refer to his mother as: princess, queen, doll, darling, love. The list goes on. As long as Parker had his princess he knew he would be ok.

They danced the night away. Song after song. Feeling like the only two people in the room. Getting more drunk as the night progressed and other guests started to fizzle out. Leaving Charlotte and Parker alone on the dance floor.

“Char, I think it’s about time we head home. We are the only people left,”

Parker chuckled.

“Just two more songs please,” she muttered with her head nuzzled by his neck.

“It’s two hours til sunrise!” Parker exclaimed.

“Just a little while longer, I don’t want this moment to end.” “Me neither baby, I want to stay in your arms forever” Parker said. In a moment of love, coupled with champagne and a few tequila shots, Parker whispered, “We should get married.”

“What? Are you serious? Do you mean now or in like 5 years?” Charlotte asked as her voice slowly diminished

“Umm… yes and now. I love you,” Parker murmured. “YES! I will marry you!” Charlotte exclaimed pulling her boyfriend into a deep, passionate kiss. Parker’s dream was coming true and all he had to do was leave his family.

Just then a group of tall, stocky men, all dressed in black, funneled through the door of the club. They didn’t bother with sitting down, they just stood there blocking the only exit.

One of the men spoke up, “Parker Holland? I have a message for you.”

“Can’t it wait til morning, just tell him I’m sorry and he can ground me even longer,” Parker replied thinking the message was from Tom.

“It’s not that kind of message,” all the noise drifted away as the other man drew his gun. Both Charlotte and Parker grew tense at the sight of his pistol.

“Charlotte, get behind me,” Parker whispered, scared for both their lives.

“Boy, it’s not from your daddy,” said the leader of the men. “Do you know who my father is? He will have all of your heads if you so as much lay a finger on me,” Parker responded

“So the girl is up for grabs?” “Charlotte, RUN!” Parker Screamed

“Eh, not so fast. I’m going to enjoy this one.” The guy said, seizing Charlotte in his grip and motioning for this associates to grab Parker. Two arms holding Parker back from protecting Charlotte.

“LET GO OF ME! CHARLOTTE!”

“Why you hanging out this rift raft? I’m sorry but he needs to atone for his mistakes.” “Parker..” Charlotte whimpered.

“Such a pretty girl and such a waste” the man snickered as he pressed the gun into her abdomen. Tears slipped down her face as she felt the cool metal against her.

BANG

It was the shot heard round the room. Everything stood quiet as Charlotte collapsed to the floor. The leader of the men shouted he need a drink. “NOOOOO! ” Parker screamed as he was let go and raced to Charlotte’s side

“Hey, hey, baby look at me. Look at me,” Parker said as tears flooded down his face.

“I’m sorry, we should’ve left.” Charlotte whispered with labored breaths while blood poured out of her wound. “Baby, you have nothing to be sorry for.” Parker cried while rubbing his thumb on her cheek. Blood pooled around them and he could only be focused on one thing, the love of his life dying in his arms. “Parker, it hurts so much,” Charlotte cried. The pain was mind-numbing. Threatening the life inside her.

“I know, love. Just keep your eyes on me love, keep’em open”

“I’m so tired Parker… I want my last words to you to be I love you. I love you ok? So much.” she whispered, then broke into a coughing fit. Blood filling her mouth and running down her chin, scaring Parker.

“Don’t, don’t fucking start that now you, hear me. You’re gonna be fine, we’re gonna get married and have kids and grow old together,” Parker exclaimed as her eyes threatened to shut.

“You said yes, Char. You have to be okay. You said yes. I asked you to marry me and you said yes.” Parker cried as tears refused to stop coming. Charlotte’s eyes growing more and more to a close.

“Please, don’t leave me baby. Charlotte don’t leave me. Don’t fucking close your eyes. You hear me. Don’t.” And with that, the hand Parker held so close to his heart was limp. Her eyes had closed and heart stopped beating. She was gone.

“No! No, no no, hey hey hey, come on, come on baby stay with me. Stay with me please.”

“Wake up, darling. Please. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Just come back to me baby. , I need you,” Parker whimpered. He burst into a fit of sobs and hugged her close to his body, not wanting to let her go because then it all became real.

The woman who changed his life, no longer walked this earth. The love of his life was gone. All the bubbling life inside of her, vanished like it had never existed in the first place. Parker’s demeanor flipped like a switch. His sadness became infused with anger, he was out for blood.

“You bastards! Why did you do that? She had nothing to do with this?” Parker thundered as blood coated his knuckles. “I’m sorry kid, but it had to be done” The leader spoke.

In a fit of rage, Parker grabbed the empty champagne bottle and smashed it over one of the guy’s heads, knocking the muscular guy unconscious.

“Big mistake, kid. Thought you were smarter than that.” The leader said as he stood in front of Parker and delivered him a swift punch to the jaw, flooring Parker.

“She really wasn’t enough of a message? Want her death to be in vain?” He spat as he kicked Parker in the stomach.

Several kicks followed, two more to the stomach, one to the groin and one final blow to the head, demobilizing Parker. He laid on the ground coughing up blood, trying to gather enough strength to get home.

He looked once more over to the girl he had loved, lifeless with a whole in stomach, knowing if it weren’t for him she would still be alive. Charlotte was the only thing on his mind as he succumbed to all the pain and everything faded to darkness.

Guns, Glamour, and Goodfellas Series Masterlist

Taglist: @thenoddingbunny-blog @adriannauni @dummiesshort

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland series #tom holland fanfic #tom holland mob au #tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #Dad!Mob!Tom Holland #Mob!Tom #mobster #Mob!tom holland x reader #mob!tom x reader

[rainydayhogwartsimagines]

Hello, I saw that you wanted Fred requests and I shall fulfill your wishes lol. I was thinking a Malfoy!reader when she’s In Hufflepuff and is just nice and she’s friends with Fred and George. One Christmas she goes home and comes back and only wears long sleeves. And Fred thinks she got the dark mark so he confronts her and she is offended bc he thought she would do something like that and she try’s to walk toward him and he reaches for his wand. she shows him and she has bruises from her dad.

This is so angsty... I love it

Warnings: Abuse, sad. Big big sad.

You had been keeping to yourself a lot more lately. It was so strange. You never did that, you always came to Fred or George if there was a problem but right now you weren't speaking to anyone. Instead you'd have yourself wearing a cardigan. Even in a warm ass class room, you refused to take it off. You were so strange lately and Fred noticed Draco acting the same way. Course Harry knew why Draco was acting the way he was. Draco had the dark mark. Which immediately made the group question whether or not you had one too. Fred hated questioning your loyalty, for God's sake he was your best friend. But considering the way you were acting, this wasn't exactly looking up. Fred walked over to you one day and sat down. "Hey, Y/n. Would you like to stay with my family for the summer?" He asked. What better way to prove this theory than to have you close, right? "... I'd like that." You nodded with this distant look.

So there you stood in the living room. Even in a home that seemed so tightly packed, you were quiet and kept to yourself, occasionally disappearing. Bill could recognize something in you. He could recognize abuse. Especially after you caught something Molly nearly dropped with your arm and yelped. You would pull back from conversation when it started to be about your father and Bill recognized something was definitely wrong. Finally Fred had enough though. They all sat around when they were sure you were asleep. "I think Y/n might have a dark mark." George sighed. "I hate to agree here but I think she does too." Fred sighed. "I don't think that's what's going on here." Bill said. "She's been acting pretty off lately. So has her brother." Harry pointed out. "Look, I could see how you would think that that's what's happening but I really don't think that's what's going on." Bill said. "So what do you think is going on then?" Arthur asked. "So you suspect her too?" Bill asked. "She hasn't been seen around this house without a cardigan or long sleeves. She's been acting very strange since she's gotten here and avoids talking about home. Ohhh." Arthur realized what Bill was getting at at the end of his sentence. "Yes, Bill I see your concern now." Molly agreed. "Care to share with the class?" Ron asked. "Well..." "I say we ask her point blank." George said. "That's not a wise plan." Arthur said. "And what is? Let a potential supporter of you know who stay with us!?" Fred asked. "Where are the girls?" Molly asked. "... They're with her." George said. "Maybe we should ask for their opinion--" Fred said nothing, going upstairs. "Shit." Bill murmured.

"I really think we should tell someone." Hermione said softly. "what's the point? Guys he works for the source it's not going to do any good." Fred heard you say. "Still..." Ginny sighed. Fred knocked on the door and Ginny opened it after hearing shuffling. "Can I help you?" Ginny asked. "I need to talk to Y/n." Fred said. "Can your booty call wait and not be in my room?" Ginny asked. ".... Seriously Gin?" Fred asked. "Alright fine! Mione. Fred wants to talk to Y/n." Ginny said. Both girls shuffled out and he closed the door. "Fred? What's going on--" "Do you have a dark mark?" He asked. You blinked and stood up. "You really think that ill of me?" You asked, looking offended by that idea. "I think you've been acting off lately and you won't tell us why! Come on Y/n you've been really weird over the course of this year!" He said. You said nothing and Fred stepped forward in such a way that made you jump back. Your heart began to pound and you began hyperventilating. "I-I'm sorry." You whimpered. Fred halted after seeing that look. No.... Something isn't right. You were shaking and your face had pure terror across it. "Y/n... I just need to you take off the cardigan." Fred said. You shook slightly and finally brought your fingers to it before pulling it off. Bruises. Everywhere. Fred looked at you and ran a hand over his face. "Please don't hurt me..." You whispered. He looked at you and realized when he walked towards you angry he must've sent you into a haze. "Y/n, Princess I'm not going to hurt you." He said softly. He approached and you pulled back. He stopped. "Y/n... Breathe..." He said softly. "Ginny!" Fred called after a little bit. She popped her head in. "Hmm?" She asked. "Get Y/n some water." Fred said. "What did you do!?" Hermione noticed you. "I accidentally scared her." Fred said. Hermione pushed past him and she carefully put her hands on your arms. "Y/n you're not there. You're here, you're home. Okay?" Hermione said softly. You broke down sobbing against Hermione, gripping her as if she was the last thing you had. Fred couldn't believe that he made that happen. Honest to God he didn't mean for this to happen.

Fred slowly retreated and went back downstairs leaving the girls alone. "Well?" Bill asked. "...She doesn't have a dark mark." Fred said. Ginny frowned with a glass of water in her hand. "Sorry, you were questioning her loyalty and didn't think to ask the girls she was staying with!?" Ginny asked. "...." Fred's silence was enough as she sat down the glass of water and smacked him upside the head. "God you guys are fucking idiots." Ginny huffed before leaving. "What's going on?" Ron asked. "She's been living through abuse." Bill said. Fred sighed. "I cannot believe I just accused my best friend of being a traitor." Fred muttered. "Especially just to find out that that is actually what's been happening." George sighed. You cleared your throat, eyes still red. "Y/n dear--" "I'm sorry if I ever made you think that I'd support him. But I have details I think you might want to know." You muttered. "Y/n--" "I'm pissed with you." You said to Fred point blank. He looked down and you spoke. "You know who is staying at Malfoy manor. My father took the dark mark along with my brother but I outright refused. Not after they killed my friend." You said. Harry felt intense guilt, forgetting you were friends with Cedric. "Any guesses to what happened next, because if you actually think I'd take that fucking mark--" "We understand you didn't." Bill assured. You sighed letting out a humorless laugh. "My father didn't take me not doing that well. After all, I'm the disappointment to my family. The only non Slytherin and now the only one who refused to take that mark." You explained. "Y/n you don't have to--" "He hit me. Over and over again. Just to please that souless monster they call a dark lord. He stopped treating me like flesh and blood to make him happy and my mother let that happen." You snapped. "I cannot imagine..." Bill sighed. "I can't believe that you would ever doubt my loyalty to you. Ever." You said to Fred. "You've been acting off Y/n, I didn't think this was why." Fred said softly. You shook your head. "Now you know. Please just... Fuck off." You muttered before walking back upstairs. Fred let out this groan of guilt in his hands. "I can't... I just accused my grieving friend of supporting the guy who killed her friend" he said. Molly went upstairs to check on you and Fred sighed. "I know... I mean I was right behind you on this theory I really thought..." George agreed. "What made it obvious to you Bill?" Fred asked. "Last week mom nearly dropped a crate. Y/n gabbed it with her arms and nearly screamed when she gripped it... I knew after she was holding her arms afterwards something else was going on." Bill said. "You could've said something earlier." George said. "I tried. You two weren't having it." Bill huffed. "I forgot for a moment that she was friends with Cedric... How could I... How do I forget something like that!?" Harry asked, referring to your reaction after the games seeing him dead.

When Harry came back with Cedric you were standing with his father... You were there sobbing into Fred's arms. How could all of them just... Forget that moment? Fred sighed. Fred sat at the table until everyone had gone to bed. You came downstairs for something to drink and he looked up after you sat down in front of him. "I'm sorry I got upset with you earlier... With the way I was acting I would've thought I was guilty too." You muttered. "Y/n I am so sorry... I just... I'm terrified that that bastard is lurking around the corner and he's going to just... Take everything." He admitted. You nodded. "Trust me when I saw him it was terrifying." You muttered. "You saw him?" Fred asked. "I said he was in the manor." You reminded. "Still... Face to face?" Fred asked. "Mmhmm." You nodded. "Blimey... That's..." Fred leaned back. "I'm sorry Y/n... For scaring you, for blaming you, for... Everything." Fred said. You took a sip of water and sighed. "It's fine--" "No it isn't. Y/n you've trusted me with so much and I feel like I've betrayed you. So... Ask me anything. Anything at all." Fred said. "Secret wise?" You asked. "it can be." Fred nodded. "...What did your Amortentia smell like?" You asked. Fred never said his out loud. He sniffed it, nodded and then leaned back and outright refused to answer Snape's question of what it smelled like. Then again, you also avoided it like the plague, not answering it either. "anything else?" He asked. "Nope. What did it smell like?" You asked. "Fuck uhm..." He sighed and squinted, debating if he should say. He did owe you the truth so... "You." He finally admitted. "What?" You asked. "You. The potion smelled like you." Fred admitted. "... You're serious?" You asked. "Yep." He nodded. "mine smelled like you." You admitted. "...Wait what?" Fred asked. "My potion smelled like you!" You repeated. "....Holy... I could've spent this entire time with you and I-- Christ how many stupid decisions have I made!?" Fred asked. "Uhhh Fred" "I mean seriously, am I going to accuse George of arson next-- actually that one could happen" "Fred" "Am I going to accidentally frame Ginny for murder!?" He asked. "Fred!" You said. "What!?" "We can fix this now. I mean if you still feel the same way." You said. "... You would want that? After everything that's happened today?" Fred asked. "Everyone has their rough patches Fred. Even us." You said softly. He took your hand in his. "Will you please be mine?" He asked. You smiled and squeezed his hand.

"I solemnly swear it."

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley

[mylovehes]

Bad Call

Masterlist

Summary: Reader doesn’t wait for backup and gets kidnapped and tortured.

A/N: REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! Any feedback is also appreciated!

Pairing: Spencer x Reader, mentions of the team

Angst with a little fluff (warning mentions of torture and abuse)

I knew it was a bad call. I knew I should have called and waited for backup before chasing the unsub into a big abandoned building. However, everyone makes bad judgment calls eventually in this job. I couldn’t let this guy get away and kill more women just because I was waiting for help. I thought I could take him on my own. I mean I had my gun with me. Unfortunately the universe wasn’t on my side and moments after creeping into the abandoned warehouse after the killer I felt a sharp pain in the back of my head as I hit the ground, gun sliding across the floor as my vision went black.

I woke up in a log cabin house with hands and feet chained to the floor allowing little access to move. I tried pulling on the chains with no luck. Soon after waking up I heard heavy foot steps coming down the stairs to my left. 

“Look who’s awake,” the unsub named Larry Peterson said smirking down at me. He is currently wanted for the murder of 15 women and as fate would have it I fit his victimology to a T. I glared up at the man from where I was sitting on the floor. “I think it’s time to get the party started. What do you think? I hope your friends like movies.” He grabbed a hold of the chains attached to my wrists. As he pulled I noticed they were attached to a pulley that hoisted my body off the ground to where my feet were barely touching the ground now.

“What are you talking about,” I said struggling against the cuffs that were now digging into my skin. He placed a laptop and video camera up directly in front of me. I noticed the red light turn on realizing he was sending a live feed to the BAU. At least this way Garcia can try to trace it back to my location and everyone will know for sure what happened to me. However, I didn’t want them to have to witness what was about to happen, especially not Spencer. He’s been through so much, he doesn’t need to possibly witness another girlfriend being murdered at the hands of an unsub. 

“Say hello to the BAU Y/N,” he said said grabbing my face and aiming it at the camera so they could clearly tell it was me. “Now normally I don’t like an audience,” Larry said while picking up a sharp knife, “but I think the an FBI agent warrants an exception.” He slid the knife across my skin as I groaned in pain trying not to give him what he wanted which were my screams.

-

Meanwhile at the BAU everyone was frantically trying to figure out where Peterson would have possibly taken Y/N. Garcia was unable to locate where the feed was coming from and everyone else was at a complete loss. The furthest they got was narrowing down that she was in a cabin isolated in the forest. Unfortunately for the team there were hundreds of cabins in the woods and it would be impossible to try every single one.

Spencer was slowly losing his mind mad at himself for not going with her to check out the abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. He was the first to notice his girlfriend was missing, everyone quickly rushing to her last known whereabouts and finding nothing but blood and a note from the unsub saying he had Y/N in his possession.

No matter how hard everyone tried they could not get Spencer away from the computer screen that displayed Y/N being beaten and tortured. Spencer felt sick listening to her screams of agony but he couldn't bring himself to walk away in fear he'd miss even the smallest clue. If she had given him a clue so far, he had not caught it. 

-

My whole body was on fire. I had been cut, hit, and tased repeatedly for what felt like hours upon hours which in reality was only one hour since he began the torture. I didn’t have the strength to fight back and there was no way I was getting out of these chains without help so I figured the only thing I could do that might help my team catch Peterson was to get him talking.

“Wow mommy really did a number on you huh?” I said spitting blood out of my mouth towards him. 

“What did you just say to me?” He said stepping closer to me threatening me with his glare. 

“What are you deaf? I said, your mommy really did a number on you didn't she? I mean you obviously enjoy hurting women for a reason,” I said hoping to strike some kind of nerve and get him to slip up. 

“Shut the hell up!” He screamed stepping away from me.

“Oh struck a nerve have I? Let me guess. She used to abuse you didn't she, physically and mentally 24/7? I bet you felt real powerless.”

“I said shut the hell up bitch!” He yelled again slamming his fist on the table and grabbing the pitcher on the edge of the table. 

“Are you the one who killed her? This is her place from her mother right? I bet that's how you got this nice cabin because a deadbeat like you obviously wouldn’t have the financials to cover a place this nice and big,” I emphasized hoping maybe the size of the cabin could help narrow down their search somewhat. 

“Maybe this will teach up to keep your mouth shut,” he said roughly grabbing my chin and pouring the contents of the pitcher down my mouth and nose basically water boarding me. The liquid in the pitcher was salt water and it made my whole body hiss in pain from the various cuts scattered everywhere causing me to scream in agony. I begin laughing in a hazy way, about to faint from the pain my body is experiencing. Hopefully the team could track down who the cabin actually belonged too. Before I could think about it too long I glanced at the camera one last time before passing out again.

-

Spencer gasped as he realized what Y/N was hinting at and flew to Garcia’s lair. “Garcia I need you to look up Larry Peterson’s grandmother and find out if she owned any property. I think that might be where he is keeping her.” Garcia quickly typed in the information finding an address that was in the middle of the woods.

“That looks like a nice big cabin in the middle of woods just like what we’re looking for doesn’t it,” Garcia said smiling hopefully at Reid.

“Yes, send us all the address. She has to be there,” Spencer said running out to tell the rest of the team. 

Everyone quickly headed to the address Garcia sent them hopping out of the SUVs and putting on their vests. Spencer and JJ took the back with Hotch and Emily taking the front. Morgan and Rossi entered through the side door. 

-

I awoke to the painful shocking of the taser and a hand over my mouth. As I came to I could hear the sounds of foot steps above me. I tried to scream to let the team know I was downstairs through the trapdoor that Peterson had revealed to me was there but securely hidden. 

“They’ll never find you down here so stop screaming,” He said whispering into my ear. Tears began to pour down my face knowing my team was so close but not being able to find me. I took what little bit of strength I had left and with all my force I bit Peterson’s hand and swung my legs back hitting him just hard enough to get his hand off of my mouth.

“Spencer!” I screamed as loud as I could before the hand once again found my mouth and the taser found its way back into my side. Screams of pain left my lips, muffled from the ears upstairs. 

“Did you guys hear that,” Spencer said causing everyone to freeze.

“Yeah it sounded like it was coming from below us,” Emily said.

“Hey guys check this out,” Morgan said. I could hear the familiar sound of the carpet being dragged back and then the trap door to the stairs being opened up. 

Peterson’s hand left my mouth and I heard the sound of a gun being cocked beside my head. He pointed the gun towards the stairs, taser still pressed into my side. As I heard the steps begin to descend the stairs I realized he was probably going to shoot whoever came down.

“Wait he has a gun!” I screamed in warning. That distracted Peterson as he once again tased me causing me to cry out. The foot steps descended faster and soon everyone came into view. Tears sprung to my eyes as I saw Spencer. I could tell by the look on his face that he did not handle me being kidnapped well at all. 

“Put the gun down Peterson,” Spencer said aiming the gun at him. However, no one had a clear shot because he was using my body as a shield. 

“Take one more step and I’ll shoot her!” He yelled back aiming the gun at my head that hung down, me no longer having the strength to hold it up myself. 

“You shoot her and we shoot you,” Hotch said beside Spencer, gun aimed and ready. 

“There’s no way out of this Peterson you killed 15 women and kidnapped and tortured an FBI agent,” JJ said coming around to Spencer’s other side.

Peterson let out a spine chilling chuckle. He quickly pressed the button on the taser one last time causing me to scream in pain as he had turned the voltage as high as it would go before shocking me one last time. He then pulled the trigger of the gun, a loud bang going off. The taser fell from my side as Peterson hit the ground. He had shot himself. 

“Hotch, JJ, unhook the cuffs. I got her,” Spencer said wrapping his arms around my body.

“I knew you’d figure it out,” I smiled lazily at him, vision beginning to fade into the darkness. 

“Come on Y/N stay with me,” He said carrying me up the stairs. “I love you baby I just got you back stay with me now.”

“I love you too Spence,” I said and that's the last thing I remember besides being loaded into an ambulance.

-

As I woke up the first thing I noticed was the unbearably bright light. The next thing I noticed was the pain all over my body but more specifically my side. Oh yeah that’s right I was repeatedly tased. I groaned shifting and opening my eyes. The small moment caused the curly haired man asleep in the chair beside my bed to stir.

“Y/N you're awake,” Spencer said smiling at you. His smile quickly turned to a frown. “ What the hell were you thinking!” He yelled at me.

“I’m sorry Spence I made a bad call,” I whispered looking down.

“I was so worried about you. I thought I lost you,” He said tears falling from both of our eyes. He pushed his forehead against mine wiping my tears.

“You didn’t lose me. I’m right here,” I said reaching up and brushing his tears away as well.

“I love you so much. I’m so glad you’re okay,” He said pressing his lips to mine in a sweet kiss. 

“I love you too. I’m sorry,” I said again kissing him back. When he pulled back there was a knock on the door and in came the rest of the team giving me hugs and telling me to get better soon.

“The doctor said you’re going to be fine, but you have to take it easy for a little while until your injuries heal,” Hotch said being the last one, besides Spencer, in the room. 

“Really Hotch I’m fine I don't need time off,” I said trying to sit up more and groaning from the sharp pain in my side.

“You’re taking time off until you’re better Y/N and that's an order. Get well soon,” he said giving me a half smile before closing the door on his way out.

“They want to keep you overnight for observation,” Spencer said smiling at me.

“Will you stay with me,” I said giving him puppy dog eyes that I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist. 

“Of course anything for you,” he said. I scooted over in the bed to make room for Spencer and he climbed onto the bed and wrapped me in his arms as we both drifted off to sleep. Spencer leaving a light kiss to my head.

#Spencer reid #Spencer reid fanfic #Spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer reid imagine #Spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #Spencer Reid x y/n #Spencer Reid x you #Spencer Reid smut #Spencer Reid x reader smut #Spencer Reid oneshot #Spencer x reader #reid x reader #doctor spencer reid #mgg #mgg x reader #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds x reader

[chrisevansszn]

MAKE IT LIKE IT WAS PT 4‼‼

Shit is getting real 😳

Thank you for the likes. I hope you are enjoying this as much as I am!!

1.3k word count‼

It has been a rough few day. You and Chris are sleeping in separate rooms, the baby can definitely sense something is wrong, and you have yet to return to work. You have been working from home and rescheduling clients and lying saying that you are ill. You decide to go into work tomorrow. It’s Friday and then you are free again. Chris came up to you last night, and you guys had a conversation. He expressed how much you guys marriage means to him and that he was willing to do anything. You both agreed to therapy just to see if this is even salvageable.

 

You wake up the next morning and get dressed. Since its Friday, jeans, blouse, and heels of course. Maxwell is already gone with the nanny. “Good Morning”, you say to each other. Not much more. It was hard walking into your business…embarrassing the least. You hold a meeting and apologize for your actions. Nothing more, nothing less. You get your day started, and the phone rings. It’s Mateo. You decline it. He can call Chris for whatever he needs.

 

The weekend goes by.  It’s Monday morning, and it’s the first counseling session. You found Dr. Grant on the internet and ran with it.

 

“Good Afternoon, and welcome”, she says so politely. You both respond. “Can I get a little history about you two and tell me why we are here today?”, she requests. Chris is doing all the talking, why should you?  You both are on opposite sides of the couch, nowhere near touching each other. He’s the reason why yall are there.

 

“Chris, what was it about the other woman that made you choose her?”, Dr. Grant asks.

Chris is floored, and terrified to answer. “Um….I really don’t know”. “Chris you have to be honest here. Y/N deserves to know”. “Well…um…I guess because she was something new… and different”.

 

Your heart sunk and your head dropped. Instant tears are streaming. That hurt and bad. Chris sees your tears and puts his hand out to touch you, but then stops. Dr. Grant picks up the tissues and you grab a couple.  

 

“Chris, why did you stop yourself from consoling your wife?” “I am not allowed to touch her right now…”, he replies. You get yourself together. “Y/N, tell me how you feel.” “Like I want a divorce…I’ve already contacted a lawyer and everything”.

 

“YOU CONTACTED A DIVORCE LAWYER??”, Chris yells. His eyes are wide open, he couldn’t believe it. “Y/N, are you serious”, he asked. You look at Chris. “Yes, I got all my questions answered about the business, the house, and my baby”. You tell him without emotion.

 

“Ok Chris, calm down”. “What is stopping you from taking the next step with the divorce Y/N”, the doctor asks. “I  want to be around by baby every day, and Chris says he wants to make it work”. “I’m trying”, you reply. You both finish up the session, and head home. The car ride is silent. You guys arrive home, and Chris walks into the kitchen to grab a drink.

 

“I had not a clue you were serious about the divorce lawyer.”, Chris says as he takes a drink.   “I told you I was Christopher”. “I can live without you and Maxwell. You both are my world.”. You look Chris in the eyes and go upstairs to take a shower. You are feeling pretty rebellious tonight. You text your best friend, Brittany, and ask to go out for drinks and she says yes. You put on a beautiful black form fitting dress, open toed heels, and do your make up. You walk downstairs and see Chris playing with Maxwell.

 

“Where are you going dressed like that?”, Chris is irritated looking at you from head to toe. “Out for drinks, I will be back later”.

You grab your purse and keys and walk out. You left out at about 8:30PM. You and your friend go to a local bar to get drinks and to dance. A couple of men flirt with you and you flirt back. You both are dancing away on the floor. You can even remember how many drinks you’ve had. You look at your phone and its almost 1AM. “I have to go. It’s getting late”, you say to Brittany.

 

You make it home safely, but you are a little more drunk than what you thought. You stumble out the car when you hear screeching tires. It scares you but you continue to walk up the driveway. Next thing you know, someone is grabbing you from behind. You are doing your best to fight back. You are yelling “get off of me, and help”, but no one hears you. The two men throw you in the back of the car and begin beating you. You hear the car take off and you are just screaming for help and for them to stop. They continue, fist after fist to the head, back, stomach. Everywhere. It seems like it lasted forever. Then the car stops. One man drags you out and leaves you on your front yard, and they speed off.

 

What just happened??? There is blood everywhere. You manage to get some strength and crawl to your front door.  You ring your doorbell…over and over. You are leaning against the door, and it finally opens. Chris catches you. “OMG Y/N, WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?”, he yells. Chris looks you over, two black eyes, a busted lip, scratches and bruises on your face. He lefts up your dress and you are bruised and bleeding.  Chris has a lot of connections, so he calls up a friend who is also an ER doctor. “I NEED YOU TO COME TO BY HOUSE Y/N HAS BEEN BEATEN BADLY!”

 

The doctor arrives and takes a look at from head to feet. You are bruised pretty badly but the main issue is that your ribs are fractured. You have to take it easy for a while and will be wrapped up for some days. Going to the hospital wasn’t an option, this would-be all-over town. The doctor leaves, and Chris helps you out of your clothes and runs you a warm bath. “Honey, who did this to you?” “Chris, I don’t know. I just made it home from the bar and two guys grabbed me, put me in their car, beat me for what seemed like an eternity, and then threw me in the front yard”. You are crying nonstop. Everything hurts so bad. “Two men? Fucking Mateo! That’s who did this. I am going to fucking kill him! I forgot to get his money to him the other day. That fucking bastard is dead!”. You have never seen Chris so mad in his life! His face was extremely red, and eyes were such a dark blue they were almost black. Chris is shaking as he tries to wash all the blood off of you. He gets your dressed in one of his t-shirts and lays you in the bed.

 

“Chris…please don’t leave me…I’m so scared to be alone”. “Baby, I’m not going anywhere I promise.” He moves your hair back and kisses your forehead, and then lays next to you in the bed. Oh, how he missed lying next to you, holding you, kissing you, and making love to you. The doctor gave your medicine for pain, so you fell asleep quickly. Once Chris realized you were out, he got out of the bed and went downstairs to make a phone call.

 

“Hello”…

“Mateo, you are a dead mother fucker!”……

#chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #cevans #fanfiction #stevenomad #captain america #marvel #andy barber #defending jacob #chris jamal evans #chris evans #follow #liketkit