#i just love the idea of william being this stoic man that’s all about his work and is very no none sense typa guy

[kisses4reid]

convenient pt.3 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

pt. 1 | pt.2 (you cannot read this without prior reading)

summary - spencer likes the girl from the convenience store

warnings - awkward conversations and long silences, both of them being hopeless romantics, allergies/sickness

genre - fluff!!! college!fem!reader x earlyseasons!spencer

a/n - thank you for the love and support on this series. it goes without saying i appreciate all of you all 🫶 thank u @raevyng for the cameo. sorry this is short, it’s either i upload this part or i make y’all wait for another week - i like you guys too much to do that.

“good job on you’re stem cell report, y/n. it was very informed and unique. i liked the, now who was it… william blake quote you included!” the teacher spoke before a class of 60. it was back to teaching new information before the next assessment, you were just about finished typing the professor’s notes before she spoke up. the mention of your name nearly made you jump.

a few of the students looked back up at you, some looking around because they had no clue who you were. you liked it better that way.

you also had no idea who william blake was.

“oh- um. thanks.” you say barely above a whisper. professor raena simply smiled and pushed back her shoulder length bob from her face. she started talking again, so did your friend.

“thanks? the professor who’s known to call out people for their incompetence more than smile in the classroom just praised you. that’s all you had to say?”

maybe logan wasn’t your friend per say. maybe she was just someone who sat next to you the first class and also happened to be your neighbour. she was stubborn and straight-forward, insanely intelligent and also smelt great. but she was caring, and gave you tough love when you needed it.

you glanced at her and smiled awkwardly, “i didn’t have much time to think about an answer.”

“i spend most of my time thinking about what i’d say to professor raena if she ever complimented me.”

“that’s because your-“ you suddenly muffle a cough into your hand, “obsessed with her.” you bring out a small packet of tissues from your bag and wipe your nose, nose reddening. logan leans slightly away from you and you roll your eyes.

“you’re not going to catch anything, it’s just allergies.” you lean back and try to continue typing notes but logan continues,

“you should go home, have some medicine, get some sleep.”

“i can’t, i’ve got work.” you whispered, a man in front of you turning around to shoot you with a side eye.

“you’ve told me multiple times that your manager wouldn’t care if you stole from the store. i’ve also told you many times i also don’t care.”

“yeah well… i like working there, that’s all.”

she rolls her eyes again, and waves you off, her long brown hair blocking her disappointed expression from you.

you stayed loyal to your job for two nights, for nothing. sure you got paid, and sure you got to steal some strawberry milk to ease your throat for a couple of minutes, but it felt boring. you actually started to file through the month old magazines you sold for double the price of a new one. you almost made it a third day without dying of allergies (and another secret feeling of sickness you constantly ignored), before you decided you were over it.

you stood up, flipped the door sign so the word ‘open’ faced you, and turned off half of the fluorescent lights before someone was suddenly in the corner of your eyes. spencer was opening the door so quickly you thought you were being robbed, you wouldn’t have seen him if not for the bell ringing on his entry.

“y/n.” he panted, watching your fingers hover over the last light switch. there was two lights left flickering softly above the front door and the check out desk. he looked stoic in the light, dressed in a grey sweater a little too big for him (like his mother had bought it for him telling him he’d grow into it) and black slacks. he seemed to have gotten a trim, his hair just under his ears now. “you don’t close until 1.”

he was confused, eyes wandering with a light hint of relief. like he was happy he didn’t miss you.

“yeah.” is all you said before you turned away from the light switch and returned to the register, assuming he would get his usual. but he didn’t keep walking, he just turned his body to face you. his eyes were expectant, delirious in a way like he needed something from you.

it was silent before the tension literally forced you to speak, “um. i need to close the store before i pass out. so i can uh… get home alive.” you look down and realise the pile of tissues before you was making a mountain, quickly grabbing them and stuffing them in an over filled bin.

“um.” a cat caught his tongue, he looked down to his feet.

spencer was sitting in his desk chair, scrolling on his government provided computer through forums and websites on ‘how to ask out a girl.’ not realising a majority of his team was reading them as well. he heard a small, familiar giggle behind him, quickly closing the tab and turning his head to be met with many other faces. jj slapped garcia on the shoulder with a smile, who’s hand was over her mouth, morgan and emily also smiling. spencer sighed and was about to cover for himself before morgan stepped in,

“look, pretty boy. no websites or article is ever going to teach you how to ask out a girl. they know nothing.”

emily joined, “yeah, none of those things are going to work. i mean, one of those said ‘don’t take no for an answer’. that’s straight up harassment.” she chuckled. morgan walked forward and placed a hand on spencer’s shoulder.

“all you have to do is talk. learn to what she likes, and be confident.”

“that’s easy for you to say.” spencer mumbled.

“who is this girl anyways? who’s taking our genius away from us?” garcia asked, today her hair was adorned with green themed pieces and a small pink flower clip.

spencer couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth perk up when he thought about the girl who worked at the convenience store. the girl who’s report honestly impressed him. the girl who knew his total without looking at the register. the girl who called him good looking without noticing, like it slipped off of her tongue with no second thought. “just someone.”

you were not just someone.

“yeah you should get home. you look terrible.” spencer’s eyes widened as you raised an eyebrow, “no i mean- not terrible- you never look or have ever looked terrible- i just meant today- no you- like you’re sick and obviously- i mean you don’t obviously look terrible- it’s just uh…” he nodded at himself after he noticed a smile creeping onto your face. “you know what i mean.”

“i know i look terrible, thank you.” he was slowly walking up to the register.

“you really should go home, i shouldn’t keep you here because of some coffee.”

you eyes stung and were puffed in redness, you nose dried yet running, eyebrow lines permanent from warding off a migraine. any other customer you would stay for, but you felt less guilty with him. not because you didn’t care, because you knew he did.

“yeah, thank you.” you grabbed your bag, put your empty water bottle into it and walked over to the lights, turning off the last ones, leaving you both in darkness. spencer was waiting for you, quite creepily as he was basically just a block of void. “you sure you don’t need your 3 minute lasagne?” you joked, and he smiled.

“no, this is fine.”

this? them? you thought this man was articulate.

you opened the door with a key-accessed button that automatically locked it after it closed, and walked into the warm streetlight with spencer.

“bye spencer.” you looked up to him only to find his eyes already on you. his face was plain of emotion, except maybe it was just the lighting that made you think he looked disappointed. not at you, at himself. he was silent, hands making their way into his pockets. it was a habit, you had learned. “what’s wrong spencer?” you asked softly, sniffling immediately after.

it was cold, the wind let a stray piece of hair cross your stuffy features.

“do you like old bookstores, y/n?”

you blinked, taken aback. “yeah. i like old bookstores.” you huddled into your sweater, a darker grey compared to his with a large font displaying your university.

“okay, goodbye y/n. see you tomorrow.” he hurried off into his car and you followed him with you eyes in curiosity.

you were already walking away before he could turn around and ask you something, he felt like he had missed his chance. but there would be more. spencer closed his eyes in frustration and took a breath, starting his car before texting the team’s group chat.

“Attempt One failed. 😐👎”

there was a string of messages after but he didn’t read them. all he could think about was the percentage of people who die alone, and then the percentage of people who are like you.

the next night he appeared at the normal time, around nearly 11pm. but he wasn’t the only one, logan was there with you, studying behind you on the floor.

she was bored, and needed to get out of her room, and the only person she knew well enough was you. there in her mens pyjama pants and an over-sized shirt that read ‘RIP Princess Diana’ with a photo of owen wilson on it, her computer warmed her lap and made a soft whirling sound the in the background.

“hi y/n.” spencer waved, he felt bad about last night. you were barely walking straight when you left and he could tell you wouldn’t get out of your ‘work clothes’ (whatever you wanted to wear with a vest over it) before falling onto your mattress, and he drove away. he didn’t even offer to take and walk you home, let alone give you a ride. but his hands were sweating and his heart thumping in his ears, and he couldn’t think straight.

“oh, hi spencer.” you turned from your own textbook splayed on the counter beside you to see spencer and his tall self. a bag of apples, a 2 minute bolognese container, and a bag of coffee. you scan them, weigh the apples, and watch him.

he wasn’t meeting you eyes. you furrowed your eyebrows for a second before telling him his total with a sniffle.

“i’m sorry for not driving you home,” he lifted his head, a piece of chocolate brown hair crossing his left eye, “or walking you home. or making sure you made it home safe.”

you widened your eyes slightly and sat still before spencer cleared his throat and continued, “i was nervous, about being around you. and my friends- my colleagues- told me i need to be more confident around you so.”

logan had stopped writing, glancing through her bangs up at you both. your mouth was slightly agape before you realised how stupid you looked and how awkward you were making it.

“oh- no it’s okay spencer, you don’t have to say sorry. i was- i’m fine. um,” you tilt your head with the corner of your lips quirking up with little resistance, “you talk about me to your friends?”

spencer nodded, put his hands in his pockets and thought for a second. he wished there was a better place to do this, a better person to take over for him.

all you have to do is talk.

spencer is great at talking.

“did you know that you could be scrolling for seven weeks before you can reach the end of ‘how to ask a girl out’ results on google? i was scrolling for a long time but then my friends told me to just talk and be confident, but i’m only good at one of those thing. so i was trying to ask you out last night but then i- well i failed basically, it isn’t my strong suit,” he took a breath, “so basically i’m saying sorry for not asking you out and not driving you home.”

it was silent, even a customer stopped humming.

“and also your allergy medication isn’t strong enough for your symptoms.” he glanced down to a white and blue box by your hand. you looked down, seeing logan in the corner of your eyes, hand covering her face.

“spencer-“

“dude just ask her out.”

spencer’s face dropped, and he looked over the counter to find another woman sat down, a cringed out expression on her face. his nervousness increased after he realised this wasn’t as private a conversation as he thought. wiping his hand on his vest, he continue with a gulp,

“no i can’t. not here, um. i’ll see you on monday. and i promise i’ll uh- be better? i’ll try again, so. okay see you on monday.” he quickly took his groceries and walked off quite speedily. you watched him walk away and then once he was out of sight, you simply stared at the box of allergy medication on the counter.

logan groaned in the background and said something about growing balls, but it was tv silence for you.

you didn’t know how to go out with someone, your last relationship was in your first year of high school with a guy who thought baby’s came out of a woman’s bum. not that spencer meant he wanted a relationship, no it could just be a friend ‘going out’. totally not romantic.

you slump and stuff your face in your hands. you didn’t care if you hadn’t dated for however long, he didn’t seem to be a man-whore at all. you just cared about how you were actually going to say yes to a man you’ve only talked to inside of an off-brand convenience store on the night shift.

you muffle a scream before the same silent customer placed a carton of milk on the counter.

“$2.50.” you grumble.

you carried logan’s computer bag as she took out a box of strawberry pocky on the sidewalk. the store was locked, the air was crisp, the light was flickering. you didn’t say much until logan couldn’t stand it anymore.

“you know when you’re this silent it’s actually pretty nice, i like peaceful walks home.” you nodded, and continued your racing thoughts with your line of vision stuck on the concrete as you both walked the block to your apartments. she sighed, “but it’s odd. you love talking. a guy likes you and you go mute?”

“his name is spencer, he does something dangerous for a living, he likes old books and drinks a lot of coffee. he gets home late at night, looks skinny but can lift a box of flour above his head with ease. he’s insanely smart and reads poetry, and helped me with my stem cell report.”

you look over at logan who looks a little disgusted but mainly confused.

“he helped me lift that box of flour without me asking. i have no idea who william blake is. i have no idea how he managed to put poetry in a biology report, and i have no idea how he can admit he’s going to ask me out and then not ask me out. his favourite colour is purple, his favourite fruit is grapes but he buys apples because they’re cheaper. and his name is… spencer.”

logan stopped in her tracks, making you copy. you flung out of whatever trance you were stuck in and raised an eyebrow at logan, “what?”

“what? oh no i don’t know, maybe you’ve just never told me about a man you happen to know a lot about, and yet don’t know anything about. you sound insane- not in the ‘loony-bin way’, in the romcom way. it’s disgusting.”

you both continued to walk, climbing the stairs to the foyer of your building before she took back her bag and gave you the pocky, mumbling, “you need these more than me.”

the elevator ride was mostly silent, and that continued before you both unlocked your apartment doors right beside each other.

“you need to ask him out, if he doesn’t do it first.” she entered her apartment before you could speak, let alone think.

suddenly your apartment felt lonely.

so did spencer’s.

he was cross legged on his plush couch on a call with penelope garcia, she was squealing every second minute trying to create a plan for spencer to ask someone out.

“spence, you’re making this very hard. how am i supposed to be your coach if i only have half a team?”

“you can find someone’s address with half a fingerprint, i think you’ll be fine.” he takes a bite of his 2 minute bolognese.

“that takes the fun out of it. i can only give you tips if i know her personality.”

spencer sighed, and thought for a second, he could practically hear penelope’s growing smile knowing she had won.

“her names y/n.” garcia squealed. “she’s smart and pretty. and her favourite colour’s purple and she studies biology. she knows my groceries off my heart and she’s allergic to pollen. she works late at night at the convenience store two blocks away from my apartment building, and she likes old book stores. she’ll be introverted around an extroverted person, but extroverted around an introverted person. she can read my expressions faster than anyone else, she tries out different hairstyles when nobody’s in the store, and she’s funny.” spencer smiles to himself, “she’s pretty.”

“you mentioned that, lover boy.”

pt.4

taglist: @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @trashmonstersara @wannabewolf @evysian @navs-bhat @mywellspringoflife @daphnesutton @smalls155 @amortencjja @anuncalledbridge @belsreid @redmurderbaby @tatilolz @criminalmindsandhouse @forensicuntology @nomajdetective @ilikw @screechingphantommaker

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #cm #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid series

[deepperplexity]

Prompt 24: Christmas Party

Pairing: Judge Turpin x Wife!Reader

POV: Second, Reader

Setting: Sir Penn’s Estate, Christmas Party 1850

A/N: So, it’s the last day of 2023 and I’m finally able to sit down for a little while to write and post this. We are having a calm New Year Celebration, just us three here at home with homemade sushi and some (neighbours will be shooting a lot though) fireworks so no dressing up, no extra cleaning, no extra cooking or prepping or anything (yes, I’m loving it after the super busy holiday 😅). This is a nice little thing to wrap up the year with I think, we get to look back a bit and then enjoy the present time as well with a stoic and sweet Turpin 🥰👏

A/N+:  I thought I’d have some fun and use some real people this time around, sprinkling in a bit of accurate history among the fiction is always a good deal of fun (do keep in mind I have used the real people to enhance this story and my portrayal of them aren’t accurate to any more degree than names, ages, time stamps and professions - have no idea how they were in real life so I’ve just sprinkled in some history I’ve found through the past few years while I’ve written Turpin stories. Just thought I ought to use some of it, you know? 😂) so you’ll meet a man called Johan Penn and his wife Ellen Penn (neé English) as they match the time frame and they too have a huge age gap (21 years) between them which I thought would be great fun to use 🥰 1850 they had two children and one on the way as well so figured I'd use that too ^^

Tags/TW’s: Confessions, Memories, Societal Differences, Fluff, Affection, Growth, Age Gap, Dancing, Friendship

Word Count: 2.5k+

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

The grand hall of Sir Penn’s estate was dressed in all things Christmas — garlands, tinsel, hundreds of candles, and sparkling decorations, each pillar wrapped in red and green, each surface covered in all things wonderfully Christmas-themed. You were in heaven, except for one thing — your husband was nowhere to be found after the first dance of the evening which he’d spent in a stiff sort of grace while twirling you about the room among all the pretty and chatty couples.

“Oh, Y/n, how good to see you!” came the sweet voice of Mrs Ellen Penn, you had first known her as Ellen English though as both you and Richard had been at their wedding three years ago. You felt a kinship with the sweet woman, both of you marrying men far beyond your age, but she had kept within her societal standing as she was the daughter of another well-known engineer, William English of Enfield, much like her husband was John Penn of Johan Penn and Sons . Your husband was of a different societal standing, of course, but both ranked high in their respective fields and often mingled in the same circles so you and Ellen had become great friends over the past years.

“Ellen, good evening, how are you?” you asked, smiling brightly while glancing toward her rounded belly where their third child grew. She laughed and patted her stomach affectionately.

“Oh, this is a wild one, I assure you, he’ll be the brawny one, I can feel it.”

“Sure it’s a he?” you asked and she nodded. “Well, three sons, what a blessing you are to your husband,” you continued and she laughed once more.

“I think he’s quite happy with his lot in life, lord knows I am. I do wish I could have a little daughter too though, you know?” You nodded, but you weren’t overly fond of children and still had none of your own. You were neither happy nor sad about it, your husband was not the fathering type either, you did suspect he wished for a son to carry on his legacy but you also knew he was not fond of the idea of children beyond that. As he always said, he was perfectly happy to simply have you as you were all that mattered to him.

“Where is the great judge?” Ellen asked while glancing around the room, being one of few who knew how you two loved each other and how well he treated you there was none of the usual fear or the like in her voice or expression.

“I confess, he’s managed to slip away. I don’t know where he walked off to but I’m sure he’ll find his way back, as he always does,” you said with a smile and Ellen smiled back at you. Both of you had been blessed with husbands who adored you, were fools in love, and were beyond possessive of all things regarding you — it was nice to have a friend who understood, who was in the same position in some ways. The gossip about you had been hard to deal with at first, seeing as you were of lower standing than your husband and with such an age difference the talks had been quite loud about town — with Ellen by your side, as a true friend in kind, things had become much easier.

You stood off to the side, watching the room while hunting for the man of your dreams who nearly none else seemed able to see as anything other than the ruthless judge who dolled out harsher sentences than any other in the country. He was more to you, different to you, something else to you entirely. It hadn’t always been like that, of course. You smiled to yourself as memories of the very first Christmas party you had celebrated together flooded your mind and you drifted off to the past while sipping a ridiculously expensive champagne…

“Will you come visit next week?” you asked and Ellen beamed at you.

“I would love to, I can leave John and William with my mother for an evening,” she said and you nodded, knowing full well it was for the benefit of both of you if she did not bring her children — they were two and one years old so they were a handful of needing constant attention and supervision.

“Ellen, my sunshine,” came the voice of Sir Penn and you both turned towards the man with his full beard and slightly upturned moustache. “Come dance with me,” he continued and you said your goodbyes before the two walked off. You felt blessed in life at that moment, surrounded by splendour and grandeur you were now used to. Richard had made sure of that, spoiling you endlessly in a manner only he ever could.

Four years earlier…

He was such a harsh, stoic man. Not a smile to be seen, not a softness to him in any manner. It had been a mere month since your November wedding, not enough time to get to know the man who had taken you off your family’s poor hands to be dressed in finery and held at a strange distance of close but not too close, far away but not too far away — as if your husband had a shield around him none could penetrate yet physically he had you close.

Your arms were wrapped around his, your hands gently resting atop his wrist, and it felt as if you had been standing there for an eternity, barely speaking a word or even being acknowledged at all. It was nearly as if you did not exist. Is it because of you, or because of my background? You wondered while you glanced up at the man whose arm you graced. The fact you got tingly all over at his appearance was something you barely could admit to yourself. He was so much older, his greying hair and the slight wrinkles to his face only made him more handsome in your eyes though. But how could you ever confess to such a thing? You still were not sure why the man had wed you.

“Judge Turpin,” said yet another round-bellied man as he bowed his head to your husband while passing by in the grand Hall of a man called Sir John Penn. You knew nothing of the world you had entered, nor any of the people inhabiting it. It was a terrifying place to be, yet you were not truly afraid as your husband always kept you close (just never close enough).

“Lord Burlington,” your husband said in that drawling dark voice of his but there was no bow of his head, a mere tilt of his chin was enough apparently.

“Tired?” he suddenly asked while you shifted your weight from foot to foot to ease the discomfort of standing still for so long.

You glanced up at him. “No, simply stiff,” you admitted while a slight blush warmed your cheeks from his stormy gaze solely focused on you.

“A dance, perhaps?” he continued and you thought his voice would be your undoing. You found no words so simply nodded and he led you out on the dance floor in that stiff yet gracefully respect commanding manner.

You danced around the room in a waltz, he led you with expertise and there was no hardship in following his lead. He really is a good dancer, if only he would soften a tad… He tugged you a little closer as you thought of that and your breath hitched.

“You look confused,” he murmured for only you to hear, “am I not leading well?”

“Oh, no, no you are an excellent dancer,” you hurriedly said in as low a tone as you could while he would still be able to hear you.

“Then why, do tell, the confusion?” You blushed even deeper at that, averting your gaze to the golden pin in his ascot to gather yourself as you had been wondering how you could be so attracted to a man like him all evening.

“Love?” he urged and your heart leapt in your chest, as it always did when he used any sweet terms while speaking to you.

“I— You are very handsome, sir,” you whispered and his fingers flexed by your waist.

“Is that so?”

“Yes…”

“And you are confused by this?”

“N-no,” you stuttered in admittance. “I am confused as to why I find you to be the most handsome man…”

“The most handsome?”

“Yes…” Not that I’ve found many men handsome before… Perhaps I have a very singular taste? Strange taste? Wrong taste? That last part made you nibble your lip and Richard spun you around.

As he caught you back up, holding you far too close, he leaned in and whispered by your ear. “I shall only ever need you to find me handsome, to hear I am the most handsome one in your beautiful eyes matters greatly.” His baritone voice had you shivering, goosebumps travelling down your spine in waves with the sensation of his breath against your skin.

“Richard, you are so confusing,” you confessed, your voice a meek noise you had little control over as it hitched.

“How come?”

“You are so cold, yet you say such sweet things at times.”

“I have been cold toward you?” A sound close to alarm in his voice.

“No, well, yes, well, no,” you stuttered as you thought of it. He hadn’t really been cold toward you, he was gentle and somewhat kind, a bit stiff and stoic, rough around the edges and somewhat harsh at times but no, he had not really been cold — in your presence towards others, yes, but not towards you now that you thought about it.

Had you really done so so many times? Had you missed his efforts? Been blind to his trials of getting closer to you while you had done all you could to be the good wife of a man in high society — in a world you did not belong, and did not know how to live within?

“Perhaps I ought to be the one confused,” he said with something you couldn’t possibly believe to be mirth in his voice. “You watch me with the most longing in your eyes, yet you do not take kindly to any of my advances, hiding away in the study or refusing to speak to me altogether when I endeavour to start a conversation with you.”

“What?”

“Oh, sweet wife, you have not once engaged fully in a conversation with me, no matter my efforts to start one. You always turn your eyes away, fidgeting with those delicate fingers of yours or offer me one of those tight-lipped smiles. Yes, exactly like that,” he said as you smiled up at him tightly, endeavouring to stop yourself from breaking out in a flurry of words that you wished to speak but were afraid to as they were wholly improper given the differences between you and your husband.

“I don’t know how to act in your world,” you confessed, feeling guilt and shame overwhelm your heart and mind.

“Act?”

“Yes, act, be,” you said.

“Love,” Richard said and stopped dancing. “You do not act with me, never with me. You live and you are you. There is no acting involved, what ever put that notion in your pretty head?” he asked with scrunched brows as he nearly glared down at you with disappointment.

You gulped down a breath, feeling your shoulders tense under those intimidating eyes you adored. “I am not from your world, I am—”

“You are everything and all the things I could hope for, just as you are. Do you not think I am well aware of who you are? Where you come from? Do you think me a man of little resources and forethought?” You shook your head and he held on tightly to your waist.

Current time…

Richard leaned in closer, the world fell away and the beautiful music seemed to die out.

“I am well aware of who you are, from your favourite colour to your preferred foods, your manner of acting with people you care for and how you behave toward strangers. How you fidget when you are worried, how your shoulders tense and how you bite your lip when holding back words, I am beyond aware of your meagre upbringing and the lack of education within high society,” he said in a rough sort of way you couldn’t make heads or tales of.

“What are you saying?”

“I know you, love, and there is no need to be anything or anyone except for yourself with me.”

You chuckled to yourself, feeling a tinge of a blush creep up your neck while you thought of that day when everything between the two of you had changed. How you had dared to open up to the harsh man who craved your true self while he had softened toward you and become an encouraging, doting husband who made you blossom into the assured and strong woman you were now. The journey had not been easy, or smooth, but you had both grown together.

Richard had changed little to the outside world, while you had become a different person with him by your side. He was an affectionate, if somewhat depraved and simultaneously doting lover and caring husband even if he was somewhat possessive and harsh. He was perfect for you, as you were perfect for him. You challenged him nowadays, you dared speak your mind unhindered and he actually listened to your words like none other ever had — like he listened to none other, and no matter what it said about you it honestly made you feel too good to be heard by him.

“Love, there you are,” Richard said, jolting you out of your thoughts, while he walked up to you in two long strides.

“Richard, darling, where have you been?” you asked while slipping onto his arm after he gave your temple a swift kiss.

“Sir Penn wished for a moment, some legal matters for the Institution.”

“The Mechanical Engineers? Everything alright?”

“Oh, more than alright, love. Do not worry that pretty head of yours, I know you care deeply for Mrs Penn, and given her current state I dare say it’s at its height for you, but there are no worries, only paperwork,” Richard said with a hint of a smile.

“Truly, Richard? Paperwork during the Christmas party?”

“My apologies, sweet wife,” he said with softness and kissed the top of your head.

“You are forgiven, if you dance a waltz with me,” you challenged and the deep but low chuckle he graced you with was like music to your soul.

“I shall gladly parade you about, my most beautiful wife,” he said and began leading you onto the dance floor while your fingers squeezed his and he looked at you with that stormy gaze of his that promised endless love and adoration…

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: THAT WAS IT FOR THIS YEAR DARLINGS! 71k of words and it's all finished! 😱❤

The last fic of Rickmas2023 and even if I'm a few days late I finished this year and I wrote a fic for every single prompt and it's been quite the journey. I have really enjoyed this year's event, and doing so many serials was a real challenge tbh but I feel it was the right way to go this year. Also, sidenote, the Penn family does have a daughter a few years after this as well so Ellen's wish does get fulfilled!

I hope you've had lots of fun and feel happy about how this year turned out. This last fic is a little extra dedicated to my Blossom ( @snowblossomreads ), who chose Turpin as the final character for this year's round and I am ever so grateful for her and each one of you darlings ❤❤❤ I will be getting to the comments, reblogs and tags steadily during the upcoming days as well - I am so so so thankful and grateful for all your loving words and all the time you've spent with me and my writing this December. THANK YOU!

I wish you a super happy 2024 - filled with loved, joy and all the good things! ❤❤❤

Q: Which of my fics were your favourite of RICKMAS2023? 🥰

A: For me, I'd have to say continuing Hans and Anna-Louise's story was my favourite to re-visit and write, but my favourite in general would probably have to be Prompt 9. Missing Star - I have no exact reason, I just absolutely loved it 🥰

TAGLIST: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @caseydoodles98 @slytherinprincess03 @theconsultingdetectiveswife @grimmyhild @monster-energies @myobscureimaginarium @snowblossomreads @eternal-silvertongued-prince @cherryglossie @setsuna-meiou31 @helena211 @a-queen-and-her-throne @justsaturn0 @turvi @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky  @sunnylikesfrogs @mamawolfsmith16 @dianilaws @sassanoe @snapesrn @bernadette-peters12 @sammy-13 @smartowl999 @castleofthorns @serenanight87 @leah1243 @elizabeth-baelish @severuslovebot @thethotthatbreathes @rickmandowneyjr @yellowbadgermole @snapesangel @commodoreseverus  @reinekefoxart @lght-n-drk @cathym1102 @mamawolfsmith87 @snowblossomreads @ladykardasi @a-queen-and-her-throne @eternal-silvertongued-prince @lyrixsnape @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @daddythanatos

Want to be tagged? 💚 You can tag yourself HERE! Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you! 😍

[Dec:2023]

#rickmas2023 #rickmas 2023 #rickmas #alan rickman #rickmaniac #judge turpin #turpin fic #turpin x reader #turpin x you #sweeney todd

[blorbocedes]

hi nicologist blorbie, i like nico but i find his media personality kinda... too polished? like george russell but with more personality. like he's doing a performance but maybe it's just his overly therapized self-awareness. ur thoughts?

hshdjdj hello anon... welcome to the pantheon of the same complaint nico has faced his whole life 😫😭 from 2013-2016, to all the way back in Williams he was called ranging from "doesn't have a sense of humour/too German" to "too stoic/wooden/PR focused" the George Russell before George Russell. let's break down your question

the 2016 media narrative was actually "Lewis Hamilton parties every week vs Nico Rosberg has given up all pleasures to life to eat oatmeal and train" and their press con pictures were Nico being 😶. couple that when he was put against the other German on the grid, the naturally charismatic and joking seb vet, nico absolutely came across as a stick up his ass.

now, obviously, as you have called me a nicologist I'm going to have a biased take. let's talk about media personalities -- everyone has them. even the most animated of blorbos, daniel playing up being funny, lewis with his peace and love, even fernando refusing to explain what el plan is everytime 😈 (this is a man who owns being a menace)

some people refuse to play into theirs as much, like max, and accordingly the media characterises him as blunt/straightforward/harsh. the media is nicer to you when you work with them, which is why Daniel is such a media darling and the face of DTS, despite not being a top 5 race contender.

nico has always been aware of how he's perceived. there's a will buxton article about it that's pretty fascinating. even before entering f1, he knew he'd be World Champion's Son and his media personality while he was a driver reflected that; diplomatic, uncontroversial, says the right and boring thing (and yes, even lying about it 🤭 my darling care has the receipts). my fav nico moments are when he'd break off it a bit — the iconic "if Lewis wants to change something then he can drive cleanly himself" agdjjd while jenson went O_O [obv media personality =/= how they actually are]

present day nico, as an f1 commentator, I'm very curious what your idea of polished media personality is. cause to me, that means someone who is milquetoast, wouldn't rock the boat, impersonal and says the 'right' thing. nico is the guy who said Ferrari's current strategy team is worse than an F2/F3 team live on air 😭 (as he should), the guy who asked lando point blank what the difference is between p3 and p4 (who didn't know 😭 bless his heart), who said yeah why should max go into a corner thinking lewis is gonna miss the apex

peak rosberg shit stirring hehe

I actually don't even agree with nico always, like for instance when he said merc should've prioritised lewis over george in dutch (?) gp. like don't make me defend george but he was right on his call for softs and prioritising His race, but that's whatever

not a huge fan of the term overly therapized~ cause a lot of Nico insults is "this man needs to go to therapy" and when they find out he HAS they're like "this man has had Too Much therapy" like 😭😭😭 he cannae win...... I do call him the most therapized man of all time, but that's gentle ribbing. when people say it anonymously w/o any way for me to extrapolate intent I'm a bit hm 🤥

cause like if he was saying things like emotional labour and 'speaking my truth' that claim would have more weight... but you know who Would say things like that? [redacted] 🔫

coming back to your question. every f1 driver is doing a performance with their public persona, some are better some are worse. Nico is no longer in f1 as a driver and doesn't need to be careful and measured anymore, and To Me is one of the few fun personalities in f1 as a commentator. you can totally disagree cause it's a matter of personal preference.

Post retirement Nico, having a YouTube channel for Years and playing into the memes (his ig comments are a nightmare of the same equal machinery joke) is perhaps more aware than most how people see him. he also doesn't need to care as much, he can laugh at himself -- at his own expense. he even posted what is essentially a taking L's compilation

if his polished persona is coming across as a cringe girldad who is way too excited about electric cars then by god he's the greatest male manipulator out there

obv if you find him too curated/inauthentic that's your prerogative, but I I would ask; have you actually watched the guy or are you going off public consciousness/someone else's interpretation. i wish he was as conniving and calculating now as people gave him credit for, unfort this is a dude who geeks out over finding a charging station in Italy.

love him, hate him, you can't deny he's fun

#why is this answer so long 😭 sob #nico rosberg #added a bunch of links so we can all watch and have fun :3 #you can totally think he's fake/inauthentic/too polished this is just my take that you asked for #blorbocedes ask

[springonmytraptillicomeback]

YOU!!!!!!!!! HENRGY HEADCANONS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

HENRGY HEADCANONS???? WOOOOOOOO!!!!!

I debated on making my Henry autistic, but I like the thought of- even though he doesn’t like human interaction- his human interaction is actually natural and not kinda forced like William’s which makes Will v v jealous

Henry LOVES fishing, he takes Charlie (she enjoys it), he forces William to come along sometimes (he hates it but comes anyway cause he likes watching Henry do it), he even takes the Afton kids (Micheal is fine with it, the fish freak out Evan but he comes because he likes the river, Elizabeth likes holding the fish). Henry probably has one of those mounted fish on his wall, and a bunch of fishing rods and hooks.

Henry’s cold and stoic to everyone except people he actually likes. He’s not mean but to employees he’s known as “the scary one”. Also speaking of work, if there’s a customer asking for the manager William will go and talk to them and if they aren’t satisfied/being rude or something then Henry is basically the back up

Before William, he didn’t really care what he wore, mostly just buying clothes that fit and are comfy and that don’t look completely ridiculous. But then Will took him shopping and his wardrobe got an upgrade. And the only reason he continues to wear the “nice” clothing is because Will likes it

He’s got a bit of a god complex, basically he makes animatronics good and that’s pretty cool to him (and also if he found out abt William’s worshiping thing he’d actually be rlly flattered)

Henry has no idea how to be a father. Nothing else to say he just had no fucking clue. He tries but he’s not that good

He really likes his beard, he’s super proud of it and he thinks it makes him look cool. He ends up accidentally passing that to Mike who in the future grows a beard but after the scoop all his hair falls out and Mike gets Really Upset about it

Henry knew that William was behind the MCI and Charlie’s death but he didn’t say anything because he’s a Faggot and morally bankrupt. William knew that Henry knew and Henry knew that William knew that Henry knew but they don’t say anything about it

Also he’s cis in a trans way. I don’t know how to explain it. He’s like if a trans man was cis I don’t know where I’m going with this.

#henry emily #fnaf #fnaf headcanons #glitch-1983 #inbox #ask

[s1utspeare]

Novoland: Pearl Eclipse is William Chan Off the Shits, and Here’s Why

Hello friends! After months of staring at this man’s face, I am finally able to put my research to good use!! And now you all get to suffer with me! Admittedly I have only watched the first episode, but it’s already got me feral bc my man wills is fucking it up to the max.

Okay so like. I love William. You all know I love William. But for the LIFE of me I could not figure out why they kept casting him in shit bc he’s SUCH A FUCKIN WEIRDO (again I love him) and I thought at first that it was just Him being The Way He Is but Novoland has got me convinced that actually he is The Greatest Actor of Our Time and here is why: his ghost smile is gone.

Let me explain:

The last play I acted in my director was like “GIRL YOU HAVE GOT TO STOP WITH THE GHOST SMILE” and I was like “the fuck you talking about” and she was like “ok. Your resting face? It’s a smile. You Ghost Smile. This character would not do that. So stop.” and then for the rest of the show I had to be fully focused on turning the corners of my mouth down whenever my face was at rest and Let Me Tell You that is Not Comfy. Ghost Smiling is like the opposite of Resting Bitch Face but only in the mouth. Resting Bitch Face involves eyebrows (granted my Neutral Eyebrows are Happy but that’s besides the point).

Now. William’s resting face is also a Ghost Smile. The corners of his mouth are just Up when he’s at neutral. If he’s frowning or acting, they turn down, but when he’s at rest you can catch the corners up just enough to soften his face and give it the classic William Charm. Observe (William):

(Ok I know that last one isn��t exactly resting but it’s a good example of his Ghost Smile bc he’s so focused on the rest of his body that he’s REALLY not schooling his face here. Also I just like this picture)

ANYWAY you can see how, when caught candidly in a resting facial position, his lips are still Up and there’s just a Hint of a smile there. It’s very nice! And if you still don’t believe me, by contrast, here’s Wang Yibo’s neutral:

Now Yibo DOES have a very prominent Turn Down in his mouth, but I digress.

OKAY SO. most of William’s characters ALSO have Ghost Smiles bc that’s just his natural face. If he’s not actively doing facial expressions, it’s just going to end up like that, which is totally fine bc that’s just what faces do!

Lil political dude (I have no idea what drama that’s from) has a ghost smile! So does Liu Ziguang in Age of Legends (remind me to talk about william’s acting choices there some other time)! And Fo-ye (sorry for the terrible ass screenshot but it’s honestly SO hard to find a picture of William In Character as Fo-ye and also At Rest because FUCk does fo-ye emote a lot :/)

Which brings me to why Novoland has got me so freaked out, and why it’s kind of hard to be like “oh yeah that’s a classic William character.” Because he’s played stoic characters like Fang Jiang before! He almost always plays stoic characters! But he has dialed it The Fuck in for this one and it’s bc his Ghost Smile is gone.

FUCJING LOOK AT THAT!!! LOOK AT THE DOWNTURN OF HIS MOUTH!! His face is constantly Passive and Neutral but William’s natural Passive and Neutral still has that smile hint! But here it’s gone. Vanished. Poof! And that means that William has gotten himself SO DEEP into this character that his natural face has changed for him. I’m sure if we see behind the scenes footage at some point the Ghost Smile will be back, but he has MASTERED this character to the point that he has changed his At Rest face to fit him.

That’s not an easy thing to do! And I speak from experience! And I didn’t even do that good a job at it bc I kept getting distracted by other things and forgetting about my mouth so like. William is acting his ass off in this one, and even if it doesn’t seem like it bc he doesn’t really emote, it’s all in the little things. I have no idea how Novoland is going to go but so far it appears to be William’s Finest Acting Work to date (even if that’s not a hard feat bc he has some…….. questionable projects), and I am very proud of him

#thank u for coming to my ted talk #it’s been bugging me for days! #why I’m like ???? about william in this drama #like I’m viscerally sort of uncomfortable seeing him do this #and I finally figured out why #and it murdered me on the spot bc he’s doing SUCH A GOOD JOB #like fuck #as if I needed any more reasons to love this man #anyway enjoy the fruits of me Thinking About William’s Mouth For Too Long #acting meta #william chan #observe william #my meta #novoland pearl eclipse

[spidernerdsblog]

Match made in Hell : Chapter Three

A/N : Chapter three is here. Survival of the fittest this is how life evolved on earth. And to survive you have to learn to adapt even if you have to make truce with people you hate. Hope you like this chapter. Let me know what you think.

A Happy New year to all of you lovely peeps! 💖💖

Pairing : Mob! Tom Holland x Reader

Summary : you always wanted a simple life but to be born as the daughter of a dangerous mobster turned out to be a curse for you. Everything changes when your father gets your lover killed and forcefully marries you off to another mobster as a part of a deal. You hate your father and your husband the only thing you seek is now revenge. Will you ever be able to fall in love again or this burning hatred inside you will consume you?

Warnings : 18+,mature content, a little PMS drama, language, flashbacks in italics, slight nudity, suggestive themes.

Mini Playlist : Bad Things by Meiko

SERIES MASTERLIST

Complying to the note you take a quick scan of the room ensuring that you’re not being followed by anyone before making your way to the restrooms but instead of going inside you sidetracked to your left and stride your way to the staff exit door across the hall and sneaked outside continuing to walk down the dark alley. You stop when you see a large figure standing in the dark a few feet away from you.

"Y/N" the man speaks with a deep voice.

"Who are you?" You demand. The man walks out of the shadow and your face lit up as you saw his face illuminated by the street light. 

"William? Oh my god!" You rush to embrace him. William Marshal, your father's most trusted wing man and your mentor. All the knowledge you have raptured be it hand to hand to combat or gun fight he taught you all. 

"How are you my little tigress?" 

"Surviving" You say with a small smile. "But what are you doing here?" You were so surprised as well as happy to see him.

"Your father sent me here."

Your brows draw into a frown ''Daddy sent you?...But why?"

"You are alone and boss thinks it's a little dangerous to leave you in the enemy territory on your own" 

You scoff. "Huh, since when did he start worrying about my safety?" 

"He wants me to help you with your task, so how much progress have you made?" He asks.

"Actually William there has been some changes in the plan” You say. “I’m no more playing daddy’s little killing puppet" 

William gives you shocked look. "What, are you planning to backstab your father?" 

''Not literally stab him though I wish I could heh. But I'm gonna make him pay for his crimes by turning him in and then let the law decide his punishment."

"You want to go on a legal battle with the king of illegal trades?” He chuckles lightly at your childish idea. “You're bluffing right?"

"I'm not bluffing Will. I just want to deliver justice to all the people who have suffered for him without anymore bloodshed. And I’m not ruthless like him and at the end of the day he's still my daddy so even if I want I will never be able to kill him" You sigh with remorse. 

"It's a suicide mission Y/N, you can't win against him, not alone"

"Well Rome wasn't built in one day, Will. Plus I have you."

His face went stoic. "I can't betray your father Y/N." 

"Will, how could you forget that this man killed your whole family? He didn't even spare your five year old daughter. Don't you want revenge?" You tried your best to persuade him. 

"That man died when he accepted his allegiance."

"Then here's your another chance to avenge your family. Are you going to help me or not?" You ask him firmly.

"You know I have always seen you no less than my daughter" He reaches out a hand cupping the side of your face "so what does my daughter want me to do?" 

The corner of lips turn up into a smile. "Nothing much for now I just want you to pose as a double agent, provide me all the information and report back to daddy whatever I exactly say to you" You explained. 

William nods in agreement to your plan. "So have the Holland's agreed to this?"

"Holland's?" You frown. "Why on earth would I involve them? They are no less evil."

"You are plotting against your dad the mafia kingpin and you need allies Y/N."

"I don't need any allies…" You pause mid sentence as it finally hits you what Will was actually trying to imply. You narrowed your eyes with a sly smirk "Unless I rat them out against each other and they end up destroying each other in the process without anyone suspecting it was me behind all this. Like this I can hit two birds with one stone"

"Well now you're getting it." William says proudly. 

"By the way boss told me to give you this." He holds out a revolver, you stiffen at it’s sight.

"That's my gun" You swallow hard.

"Yes indeed it is." 

"I can't take it Will and you know why" You say anxiously.

"I know that the past haunts you Y/N but that phase is over. You have to let go" He takes your hand and places the gun. "Keep it, you'll need it" Your palms were sweaty as you gripped on to the gun and looked at it intently. 

"I think you should go back now before your husband gets suspicious and remember.." 

You cut him off before he could finish. 

"To be nice and call in a truce. Trust me I got this." You winked with a sly grin and rushed back to the hall through the backdoor but you are met with an obstacle. Tom was standing right in front of the restrooms, you quickly retreated behind the wall.

"Shit! Why are men so clingy?!" You groan with slight irritation when your phone lights up

T : Hey you okay? You're in for too long. 

T : Y/N???!! 

You roll your eyes as you text him back. 

Y : No I'm not okay!!! 

Concern clouded his features whilst he texted you back.

T : Hey what's wrong? 

T : Darling, you alright? 

You couldn't think of any valid reason to get past him so you had to swallow your pride and texted back with the most safest and believable excuse for a woman. 

Y : I'm PMSing!!!  T : ….OK. 

You peered to see his reaction and you swear you would have burst out laughing if you weren’t in such a sophisticated place, the look on his face clearly showed how weirded out he was. 

Tom on the other hand was clueless about what to reply next, since a young age he has been dealing with the most dangerous people from the underworld but never in his life he had to deal with someone pmsing specifically he never had to deal with you. Though he had a little knowledge about these things thanks to sex ed at high school. You saw him take a deep breath before typing. 

T: You need something? 

Y: Yeah, will a tampon be too much to ask? 

Y: It's kind of urgent. 

T: Right on it. Just stay there. It will be fine, love. 

T: Do you need a change of dress? 

To be honest you were quite taken aback seeing this concerned and understanding side of his. 

Y: No, I'm fine. And please don't come barging in the ladies room. 

T: Yeah I know that. 

As soon as Tom moves away you quickly slip inside the restroom and heaved a sigh of relief. After a few minutes a middle aged woman walks in the restroom.

"You must be Y/N?" She asks with a smile.

"Yeah." You nod.

"Here you go, love." She hands you a tampon. You take it and go inside a stall. You wait for a few minutes before throwing the tampon in the dustbin and emerging out of the stall with a smile.

"Thank you so much." You say smoothening the slight creases on your dress.

"Oh don't be but I must say your husband really loves you. You should have looked at his face how freaked out he was."

"I really doubt the love part.'' You snicker, turning on the faucet in the basin to wash your hands.

"Well darling, here’s an advice from a lady to a lady keep your man happy and satisfied and then not only will he be showering you with all his love as well as—"  She coils her thick glimmering diamond necklace around her slim finger "might get these too."

"Well thank you for your advice but not a fan of leashes you see." You quip drying your hands with the paper towels.

"Trust me sweetie one day you will just want to wear these leashes only for your man." She steps closer putting a hand on your shoulder.

"Will see." You give a tight lipped smile.

After sometime you step out and find Tom patiently waiting for you.

"All good?" He asks, you nod in affirmation.

"It was lovely talking to you sweetheart. See you again." The woman chirps, you smiled waving at her.

Bad Things starts playing……. I know what I want And I'll get what I need I'll come over and I'll show you how Don't you wish that you can have me now?

"Shall we have this dance?" Tom held out his hand. You take it with a smile as he leads you to the center of the room. Your hands go to his shoulders while his hands rest on your hips. You slowly begin to sway your bodies to the music going back and forth, your eyes looking around to the other couples dancing. 

You say that you want all of my love But let's be honest we don't need all that I like it better with no strings attached

"You're welcome." Tom says, drawing your attention back to him.

"Uhh..." You look at him in confusion.

"I guess the words that you are looking for are thank you."

"To be fair it was kind of your duty to help your wife from an embarrassing situation." You quip.

"Oh now I'm your husband, huh?" He raises his eyebrows amused.

Good girls do bad things sometimes But we get by with it Good girls do bad things sometimes But we get by with it

"Well you have been rubbing the fact on my face since day one so—" You half shrug. 

"So what was Mrs. Sinclaire saying?" He asks looking around the room.

"Nothing of my interest just how I should get one of those shining collars around my neck." You roll your eyes dramatically.

"Those are gifts from their husbands who love them dearly, love" He corrects you, a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

How much more can you take if I give you a taste I've been waiting for you all night long I come around and then I'm gone

"But for me those are glittering leashes" You retort.

"Darling, how much ever you pretend but under this tough shell you're just a hopeless romantic, you crave love and I can give you all of it only if you allow me." Tom laces his hand with yours another hand stays at the small of your back, waltzing to the music. 

You'll get yours, I'll get mine Then we run out of time You're the only one that I desire 'Cause I love to play with fire

"Maybe I'm that's why I still dream of a beautiful life away from all this from you" you say looking deep into his brown orbs.

He leans down to your ear and whispers. "I can assure you one thing princess the farther you want to go away from me the more I will pull you back towards me"

A shiver runs down your spine as his smile turns into a wide grin.

Good girls do bad things sometimes But we get by with it Good girls do bad things sometimes But we get by with it

His hand moved from your back to your lower waist and he dipped you low, taking you by surprise. You bent on your back as he pulled you back up with a force, throwing you against his body sending your body right into his broad frame.

Ooh (oh-oh-oh-oh-oh) Ooh (oh-oh-oh-oh-oh) When I'm down I let you know (ooh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh) When I'm down I let you go (ooh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)

You stayed like that for a while, inhaling deeply but the only thing you could smell was him, his expensive cologne intoxicating your senses and then he pushed you back again, spinning you around twice and settling back for the previous slow pace. 

Good girls do bad things sometimes But we get by with it Good girls do bad things sometimes But we get by with it (oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)

The night ends and you are now back at home sitting on your bed busy with your night routine rubbing on some body lotion on your hands as Tom walks in.

"What are you doing in my room?" You frown.

"Technically this is my room" He reminds you rummaging through his closet.

"Not anymore." You state haughtily. He plainly ignores you and goes inside the bathroom. 

After a while he comes out with a towel wrapped lowly around his waist, his wet curls sticking to his forehead. You couldn’t help but admire his chiseled upper body, muscles rippling and glistening in the soft golden light of the room.

"You’re staring" He sing-songs, smirking cockily.

"No-no, I'm not'' You fumble. 

"It's ok, darling I'm all yours to look at" You roll your eyes meanwhile he takes off his towel and throws it in the hamper before getting on the empty side of the bed just in his black calvin klein boxers.

"Whoa, you are gonna just wear that?" You ask in surprise. 

"Why you gotta problem?" He smirks while getting inside the covers. 

"No seriously, you’re either fully covered or almost naked. Nothing in between." You remark giving him an annoyed look.

"Why does it turn you on babygirl?" He says with a sultry voice. 

"Shut up and stop with these weirdass names, will ya" You grimace as he chuckles.

"And what about you? You are going to sleep in that?" He points out looking at your sleep shorts and a loose shirt. 

"Well you may think of yourself as a calvin klein's model but I ain't a Victoria’s secret angel. So yes I’m gonna sleep in these" 

"But your Instagram says something else" He quips, making you smile mischievously.

"Aww did someone get all riled up at work?” You click your tongue pouting “so sad." 

Tom all of a sudden grabs your arm pulling you down to him as you jolt down surprised.

"And for that you deserve a nice spanking" His voice low, a cocky grin plastered on his face.

"If you touch me I'll chop off your hands." You threaten with a cold stare and pull out your arm from his grip. You lay down turning to your side and snatched away the covers from him.

"Oi! blanket hogger!" He protests, pulling the blanket back.

"Get out of here!" You kicked his leg playfully snatching the cover again.

"Y/N I swear to God I’ll push you off the bed!" He says laughing.

"Shut up you whiny baby." You retort laughing as well.

He moves closer to you bringing his hands to tickle you on the side of your hips. You squealed trying to push him away but he tightened his hold around you both laughing like kids when suddenly you realized how close you were the heat from his bare body felt like burning against your skin. 

What are you doing? You hate this guy, he is the reason Ethan is dead. You remind yourself gaining back your composure and stopped laughing. You went silent closing your eyes as Tom got the hint and backed off.

You soon fell asleep breathing softly but Tom was still awake staring at the ceiling thinking about all the meetings and deals he has to make tomorrow when you shifted on the bed and turned to Tom’s side in your sleep. You subconsciously hiked a leg above his placing your hand over his chest snuggling close to him. 

Tom found it really amusing chuckling softly as he took his time to admire how beautiful and innocent you looked. He went to wrap his arm around you just then he heard you mumbling in your sleep. 

"I'm sorry - I'm so sorry Ethan." His expression goes hard. He retracts his hand away placing it under his head and lets out an exasperated sigh before closing his eyes to sleep.

Next morning you squint your eyes open to find yourself practically laying over Tom's chest, you sit up hastily waking him up in the process. 

"Good morning, princess." He says with a groggy voice. You look at him timidly. 

"By the drool I’m assuming you slept well." You frown rubbing the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. 

"So much for chopping my hands eh?" He snickers. "But what about you taking advantage of me while sleeping." you felt your face heat up in embarrassment.

"Sorry I used to have a side pillow when I slept."

"Oh it's ok, love. I'm honored to be your human side pillow.'' he says cockily before getting off the bed to get ready for the day. 

"Dickhead" You mutter under your breath.

****

 You went to punch his chest, but William blocked it

"As a devout feminist, I refuse to say that you hit like a girl." William quipped letting go of you, and you spin around in frustration

"Let's try this again, shall we?" 

"Tell me again why I have to learn self defense this early in the morning." 

William began to roll up his sleeves to better move around "You are my  responsibility." 

You smiled "...says the feminist." William chuckled. 

"Fighting is rhythm. There is a music, there is a meter, there is a pattern. Let that rhythm beat within you." He stood defensively and nods at you. 

"Again." you put up your fists and start to fight him, but he easily blocks your blows. You two spin and continued practicing. You struck him again but he blocks it. 

"Legato" You strike again with increased force,

"Ostinato" You strike back with all your force. 

"Crescendo" You managed to hit him, but he blocked the majority of it and held you by your neck. 

"And then, once you've established your cadence--" You spun out of his grip, kicking him, and pressed him against the wall while he's distracted. 

" --You change the key." you said smiling proudly. 

 "Very nice." He said a little out of breath. "But none of this matters if you cannot make the kill." 

"But I don't want to kill anyone." 

"You will. To survive" He said.

You stepped back to catch your breath from the intense workout.

"Now c’mon we will learn something new today." He brought two wooden staff and throws one at you out of the blue which you barely catch.

"Hey! I wasn't ready!" You protested. 

"First lesson-- always be on your guard." He instructed. You took note of the weight of the staff in your hands for a moment.

"It's heavy." 

"I was half your age the first time my father gave me the staff. I would have torn every muscle rather than let him see me strain. And, had I--" He attacked you, you barely blocked his blow "-- he would have corrected me." 

"No offense, but your dad sounds like a jerkwad" You panted. 

"Mothers love their children. Fathers make them strong" He attacked you again, and though you struggle to keep up, you manage to continue blocking him.

"Well in my case my daddy doesn't care 'cause he already kind of bidded me off in a stupid deal--" You started to fight back  "-- and my mother is quite ardent to make me strong enough to face anything what is to come my way" You grunt while attacking but William easily dodges your strikes.

"You're anticipating. Do not let me see your move before you make it." He strikes at your staff, knocking you off-balance and causing you to twist your ankle as you fall and whimper in pain

"Get up." He commanded.

"I can't, my ankle hurts." You groaned.

"The ability to end your pain is a warrior's true weapon. Master that, and nothing holds power over you." You glared at him. 

"Now, on your feet." You winced. 

"I said, On. Your. Feet." He barked.

You continued to glare at him, but do grab your staff to use it to help you to pull yourself up on your feet. You leaned against the staff for support. William looked mildly impressed.

"Good. Perhaps you've actually learned something today." 

It’s been almost two weeks since the gala night William has been in contact with you providing you with valuable information. You were lost in your thoughts when your phone buzzed and you were broken out of your daze. It was William, you received the call. 

"Hey Will!" 

"Got some news." 

"Seems like Victor has grabbed quite a hold in the European drug cartel. He has been making quite some big deals." 

"Daddy is making deals with the European drug mafias?" You were surprised at this news. "But how is that possible? As much I know he planned to oust the Hollands off their turf first before taking over their business." 

"Working with your dad I have learnt one thing about him, ‘compartmentalization’ nobody gets to know about his real plans. And that is the reason behind his success." 

"I think I know someone who might give me more info on that. But the most important question is who is doing all the dirty work for him while he is sitting in NY." 

"A new gang has emerged in the city ‘the vipers’ but I’m surprised that the Holland’s didn’t happen to come across them yet." He says before ending the call.

Meanwhile Tom was at the docks of the London port accompanied by his brother Harry for a meeting with an old time ally.

"Gomez, after a long time mate." 

"Yeah Holland business has been a little rough these days"

"So my brother tells me that you wanted some negotiations to be done with the current revenue arrangement of the port area"

"Yes Holland about that you see you're charging an outrageously high protection money and for that I am having very little profit from my drug trafficking business" 

"Well mate protecting you from the cops and allowing you to smuggle through my port comes with a high price I told you at the beginning only." Tom says.

"Then I might have to rethink our alliance, Holland."

"You mean you want to call off the deal?" Tom raises his eyebrows.

"Yes you guessed it right" 

"That's really brave of you given that the narcotics are already suspicious about your activities" Tom mocks with a sinister look in his eyes.

"I'll take my chances and there's this new gang who are ready to provide protection at a much cheaper rate plus they are going to help me expand my trade to the States. And profit has always been my first priority mate." Gomez states.

"Well whatever suits you mate but the port is still under my control if I may remind you so perhaps you should start watching your back" Tom advises, malice in his voice and then he storms out of the place.

****

You have finally decided to have a night out and blow off some steam. You dressed up in a slip dress and put on your matching stilettos. Booking yourself an uber you were just about to go down the stairs when you heard some heated argument coming from the office though it was mostly Tom’s voice you heard and by the tone you deduced he was very angry. 

You slowly made your way towards the room to see Tom standing in the middle of the room with Harrison and Harry beside him, his men surrounding him as he yells at them. They were so engrossed into the meeting that nobody bothered to notice you standing so you quietly lean against the doorframe and listened to their conversation.

"I'm paying a bunch of assholes for nothing!" Tom barks. 

"Tom, calm down." Harry goes to tone down his brother.

"How can I calm down?! Some bloody newbie gang has been operating right under my nose! on my turf! and I have no news about that." He snaps.

You couldn’t help but the whole conversation made you chuckle a little too loudly drawing everyone’s attention present in the room. Tom was already seeing red with his business going into jeopardy and seeing you laugh like that he went ballistic. 

"Does something here appear funny to you?" He glares at you.

"Well funny things do." You retort.

"And may I have the pleasure of knowing what you found so funny?"

"Well seeing you guys all worked up about this whole new emerging gang snatching away your territory. I really feel pity for you."

"Thank you for your pity now you may leave, anyways women are not allowed here. I should not see you snooping around in the future near this room." He orders.

"Your loss I might know something that could have helped you in solving your little problem." You shrug and turn to leave. 

"Wait! What do you mean?" 

"Well I guess women don’t do business here so I better keep my mouth shut." You taunt agitating him even more.

"Stop fucking with me Y/N! If you know something then tell me." You pucker your face pretending to think. 

"Please" he adds softening down a bit, you sigh audibly.

"Ok then let me give you a heads up. The viper gang which is hampering your business deals is owned by none other than Victor Martinez aka my daddy dearest." Tom's eyes went wide as well as Harrison's and Harry's. 

"What! You’re kidding right?" You scrunch your nose shaking your head sideways dismissively.

"But-but we had a deal!" He was still in disbelief.

"Honey you made a deal with the devil. What did you expect?" Tom crosses the room in three strides and grabs hold your arm with a death grip anger raging in his eyes.

"Leave my hand, Tom! You’re hurting me!" You struggle twisting your arm. He slightly loosens his grip but still holds on to you. 

"What more do you know? What have you father-daughter planned behind this whole wedding facade?!" He spat gritting through his teeth.

"Hey don't go all out on me! I myself didn't know about this until today. He never told me about this secret gang." 

He scoffs, raising his eyebrows. "And you want me to believe that?" 

"It’s up to you if you want to believe or not but if I would be plotting against you why would I even care to tell you all this?" You pull your hand away "--and this growing hatred inside you I have thousands of times more of that hatred inside me for him" you seethe.

"Then what was the meaning of the whole deal?" 

"Well he wanted me to lure you and trick you into writing everything you own including your business to my name and then kill you." Tom is left speechless with your revelation.

"What? Feel the bitter taste of betrayal?" You smirk. "Now you’ll understand what I felt." 

"Okay then you guys have fun working out your plan on going against your new enemy while I enjoy my night with some music and drinks." You chirp enthusiastically.

"Now where are you going so late?" Tom sounded tired.

"None of your business" 

"Anthony, Michael go with her" He orders two of his men.

"No need, my uber is already waiting outside" saying so you left.

Reaching the club you order some drinks for yourself. You sit on the seat near the counter enjoying the ambience as the bartender hands you a martini. Though it wasn’t like the rave parties you had in NY but you really felt relaxed finally out by yourself after being trapped in that house for two weeks after your wedding which felt like ages. 

"You're Y/N right?" You look up to your side to find the red head girl from yesterday.

"And you're the hooker" You quip and she chuckles.

"Yeah I am, it's Sandy by the way." She takes seat beside you. "So where’s your husband?" 

"Probably still shouting at his men." You shrug, taking a sip of your drink.

"Not to be prying but what's the deal between you two? It looks like you hate each other's guts"

"Don’t know about him but I definitely do, perhaps after tonight he might start hating me too." 

"Then why the hell did you get married?" 

"Well honey things don't work like that in the mob. A wedding is just a strategic alliance between two families for their own mutual benefits. We just serve as scapegoats, our fates were sealed together the day we were born" You explain. 

"Well that’s some really messed up shit" She sympathizes. 

"I know." 

"But you can still work it out. You know he isn’t that bad, at least not in bed" She grins cheekily. 

"Okay I didn’t need to know that" You chuckle sarcastically. 

"You’re really missing a good dick girl, that you can have any time you want and all your life." 

"Do I look like a nymphomaniac?’’ You laugh ‘‘-and no doubt he is a dick. He is the reason my innocent boyfriend is dead, I’m stuck here in this stupid marriage and instead of apologizing what does he do? He brings in girls, acting like a slut" You rant.

"You're bothered aren't you?" 

"No, why would I be bothered with whom he sleeps?" You stand up from your seat stumbling a little already feeling tipsy.

"-- you know what I'm gonna enjoy today, get drunk and dance my sorrows away." "Everyone in the house tonight’s drinks are on me! Enjoy the free booze!" You screamed. The whole crowd whooped and whistled.

"To my fucked up life!" You shouted, downing a shot. 

You made your way to the center of the dance floor and started dancing without any worry about tomorrow. Within seconds you felt two hands around your hips, you turn your head to find a cute boy probably of your age as you continued to dance and grind against him. After a couple of songs you went back to the counter and had some more drinks. You were totally wasted as your vision went blurry and pretty soon everything blacked out.

It feels like a struggle for you to open your eyes as you stir inside the covers. Huh? You squint your eyes open and realize you were actually lying in a bed. You slowly sat up, your head was pounding with last night’s hangover as you groaned holding your head. Your eyes slowly adjusts to your surroundings and you realize that you were indeed back home and in your bedroom. You look down at your body and were shocked to find yourself in just your black strapless bra and underwear.

"You’re up at last." You hurriedly pull the covers up to your chest hearing Tom’s voice. 

He walks in a pair of grey sweatpants and a tightly fitted black t-shirt, his biceps bulging out of it. It was really odd to see him in such an informal attire but he looks good, you slapped yourself internally for the last thought.

"What happened last night? How did I get here? And where are my clothes?!" You badgered him with questions.

"Woah slow down, that's a lot of questions at one go and you should be the first one explaining about your reckless behavior last night."

"Why, what did I do?" You frown.

"Oh you really went wild last night. For starters you danced with random blokes and then you drank more and got wasted. And then you took off your dress whilst those drunk bastards did body shots." Your mouth falls agape in shock.

"Wait what? I took off my dress in public?!" You were still in disbelief.

"Yeah and that’s not all” He says with a scoff “You let those twats lick salt and lemon off your body while they did shots. Thanks to Sandy who informed me on time." You rolled your eyes looking away. 

"After seeing you being used for body shots things got a little nasty out there and they had to close early."

"What did you do?" You ask anxiously. 

"That any man would do seeing his wife being touched by other men." He growls the last bit.

"What do you mean?" 

"I made sure they will be in the hospital for a good couple of months." He states rather proudly. 

You slap your forehead shaking your head in annoyance. You didn't realize that you had let go off the sheets covering your body giving Tom quite a view which he had missed the other day. 

He slowly leans forward, eyeing you up and down lustfully prompting you to back off until your back touched the head board. He crawls towards you further hovering over you reaching his hand out to cup your face.

"You really upset me yesterday Y/N." His voice low as his hand brushes your hair from your shoulder and travels downs to your chest fingertips gently brushing over your rib cage down to the valley of your breasts slightly tugging to the soft material of your bra. You caught hold of his hand to stop him from going down further, he smirks. 

"Funny how you allow strangers to touch you, but not me, your husband who has the only right to do it." You kicked his crotch but not too hard. 

"Bloody hell!!" He groaned as you tackled him down bringing yourself on top straddling him. You were far gone from feeling self conscious, sitting on top of him in just your undergarments. 

"Well the thing is I don't take you as my husband." You sneer narrowing your eyes. "And the last time I checked, you don't trust me." 

"Well I never trusted you on the first place and you proved it last night quite nicely for the reason why” He says. “but honey I'm not letting you go so easily."

"After a lot of thought I actually think you could be a perfect leverage for me" He then goes to press his hand to your lower stomach "Moreover if you were with my child I guess grandpa Victor will certainly agree to some negotiations" He ticked his jaw with a devilish grin. You flare your nostrils fuming at his audacity. 

"I would rather be barren than let you father my child and give him/her this cursed life." You seeth. Tom seemed a little hurt by your words of how you think he's going to be a terrible father but he masked it with his usual cocky self. 

"Truth be told princess I love to be on top and in control but for a change you really look so pretty on top, can't imagine how beautiful you'll look while you ride my dick" He says tracing your jawline with his fingers. You swat his hand away. 

"You're such a piece of shit!" You snap getting off him. He gets up chuckling and leaves the room as you quickly get off the bed and run to the bathroom. 

Undressing yourself from the leftover clothes you ran a warm shower, the warm water quickly relaxing your muscles. You smelt of sweat, alcohol and cigarettes which made you feel dirty. You squirted some body wash and lathered your body with it before washing it off. Then you washed your hair with shampoo. 

You take your time before drying yourself off and walk out of the bathroom busy fixing your towel and bumped into Tom. His large hands held your arms steadying you meanwhile your towel loosens and falls off your body. You both looked at each other in shock. 

Tom stands there like a statue gaping at you, eyes lingering from top to bottom of your exposed body; ‘man you have a goddess like body’ he thought as beads of water trickled down your wet hair. You finally come back to your senses then it suddenly hit you that you were standing completely naked. 

"What the fuck!! Tom close your eyes!!!" You shriek out quickly bending down to grab the towel and cover yourself. Hearing you scream Harrison came barging in your room. 

"What happened mate?" Out of instinct Tom lunges forward and embraces you tightly blocking you from anyone's view.

"Harrison! Get the fuck out of here!" 

"Oh I'm sorry bruh. Didn't know you were busy." He cackles turning around. Some of his other men also came rushing in thinking something happened, leading to a total chaotic situation in the room. 

"Yes, who else is left to join the party you are cordially invited!" You yell frustrated. 

Tom is still guarding you as he yells sharply. "Get out of here you bloody morons!" 

When everyone is finally out of the room Tom steps back as you stand at your place clutching on to your towel, both of you looking away from each other. After a few awkward moments of silence Tom finally speaks up. 

"That was quite a spectacular view, you have kept things quite perked up I see." He says playfully. And that was enough to get on your nerves. 

"You!!!" You glower taking the vase you found near you in your hand to hurl it at him. He steps back a little, raising his hands defensively. 

"Careful love! That cost me thousands of dollars, though I don't have any shortage of money but still don't want a lovely art to go to waste just to appease your anger on your piece of shit husband" He snickers breaking into a laugh and runs out of the room leaving you fuming. 

"Son of a bitch! Uggh!!" You stomp your feet keeping back the vase at its place. Your phone dinged and you went to check, it was a message from William. 

W : Good news

..................................................................

Taglist in bio or send an ask/dm I’ll add you

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland smut #tom holland imagines #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagine #mob!tom #mob!tom holland

[cower-before-power]

Penny For Your Thoughts: Part 1

Summary: You’ve been harbouring feelings for your mighty squad captain for months. When you’re forced to share a bed during a mission, will you finally get the courage to tell him how you really feel?

Pairing: William Vangeance x GN Reader

TW: forced bed sharing (if that isn’t your thing)

PART TWO UP NOW HERE

A/N: I originally was writing this for a different fandom but abandoned it, when i found it again I thought why not use it for Black Clover? “There was only one bed” is one of my favourite tropes SO I WROTE IT. There will be part two when I get around to finishing it. Enjoy, sweet potatoes!

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Sleep is dancing far out of your grip tonight. 

It’s not surprising, considering the less than fortuitous circumstances you find yourself in. It’s cold, almost absurdly so, and the curtains are far too thin to obscure the waxy shine of the full moon. Your body is stiff, unable to relax, lest you accidentally touch the softly snoring man beside you. 

He just had to accompany you on this mission. It had to be a double bed. It had to be the only room left. It had to be just your luck. 

Of course, you couldn’t predict the only inn for miles being so crowded.  The staff couldn’t predict your bottled up feelings. He couldn’t possibly predict how tortuous it would be for you when he said sharing the room would be fine.  He was smart, perceptive- but you’d shrouded yourself painstakingly, and he’d never seen past the protective haze. 

You were always good at hiding. 

You roll slowly onto your side, eyes falling on his relaxed form as he slumbers peacefully beside you. The moonlight throws every feature of his face into sharp relief, and the beauty of him hits you like a punch to the gut. 

Did angels ever find their way down to earth? Because you were pretty sure you were laying beside one. Even with the scar covering half his face, he was pure art come to life.  Something so breathtaking it just couldn’t be of this world. 

And it wasn’t just his looks. His insides-heart, soul, mind- were just as dazzling. He wasn’t perfect of course (you still sometimes found it hard to believe he a actually a certified criminal), but he was atoning for his sins and he never stopped trying to be more, be better. He was kind, supportive, gentle, humble. 

He was everything you wanted.

You hadn’t had much of a relationship with him when you first joined his squad, but then again, he was mostly someone else back then. In the months since the elves left, he had opened himself up to his Knights a great deal more. He stopped wearing his mask around the base, started up random conversations with those below him, attempted to get to know you and your squadmates more personally. And to your surprise, the two of you got along very well.

Before you knew it, the two of you had struck up what could be called a friendship. You often would walk in the garden, talking about everything and nothing all at once.  He was more human when he was just William, not Patri in disguise or the stoic Captain Vangeance. He was surprisingly easy to talk to, something about his calm aura that allowed you to be more candid with him then you were with anyone else. He listened to your worries, your fears, you problems. He laughed with delight at your stories of childhood antics. He offered advice when you asked. He even shared bits of himself, little by little peeling back the layers until you could see the wonderful soul shining underneath. 

He had captured your heart without even knowing it. It was pain to stand beside him and not spill the truth, but some piece of him was better than nothing at all. If you weren’t so scared of losing him, of having him go back to just being your aloof Captain, you’d tell him how you felt. 

But fear was an iron cage, and you couldn’t escape it. 

“You should be sleeping.”

You gasp, nearly jumping out of your skin. He cracks one eye open, his lips tugging softly up into a sleepy smile. 

“I thought you were asleep!” You place a hand on your chest, trying to calm your racing heart. 

“I was,” he rolls on his side to face you. “But then the incredibly loud sound of you thinking woke me up.”

You blush furiously. If only he knew what you had been thinking of. “I’m sorry. I....just can’t sleep. It’s too bright and cold in here.” And I’m in love with you and sharing a bed is proving too much, your brain adds. 

He hums, squinting his eyes at the offending lunar orb outside the window. “Well, I can’t do anything about the moon. But...I can help with the cold? If that’s okay.”

There’s a faint blush on his cheeks, and you’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe. What he’s suggesting is wildly inappropriate. He is your captain, your superior. Surely warming up another is a duty saved for a life or death situation. And a  prolonged time so close to him might prove too painful once it was time to pull away. 

But you’re a glutton for punishment, and so you find yourself nodding at his offer. 

He pulls you to him gently, arms wrapping around you as you come to rest against him. Your legs automatically slot with his, his chin settling comfortably on the top of your head. His skin is warm, so impossibly warm, and you can’t help but burrow closer, eyes closed and heart pounding. 

It’s heaven and hell all at once. 

“Better?” He asks softly, and you simply nod, not trusting your voice to work. You lay in silence for a while, nothing but the sound of quiet breathing between you. His heartbeat thumps steadily beneath your ear. It’s a lovely sound, so full of vitality and a glorious reminder that he is alive. He’s alive and he’s here with you, and in the end, no matter how much it stings, that is really what matters. 

“You’re still thinking very loudly,” he breaks the silence, and you feel the words reverberate through his chest. “Penny for your thoughts?”

You shake your head. “It’s nothing. Not worth even a penny.”

“Don’t say that,” he says, and you can practically hear him frowning. “I value every single thought that comes out of your head. If something is bothering you, I’m here.”

How can you tell him? Tell him he’s the one making your thoughts so noisy, that he’s the reason you can’t sleep? It’s been eating at you so long, dying to break free, but you just....

“I don’t know,” you whisper. “You might not like what’s in my head.”

“Hey, look at me,” his voice is gentle but firm, and you pull away from his chest to meet his eyes. “You know you can always come to me with any problem, any thoughts, any thing that’s eating at you. I’ll always be here with an ear to listen and a shoulder to rest against, no matter what it is. You’re important to me.”

The sentiment sets butterflies fluttering in your chest, but you know he doesn’t mean it the way you want him to.  

“I know,” you drop your gaze away from his, unable to look any longer into the kind depths that are resting upon you. “I know. I mean, we are friends right? That’s what friends do.” The words choke you, constrict your throat and burn like yesterday’s stale cigarette smoke 

“Yes, we are friends,” he echoes, and a thick silence comes to rest over the room. It feels heavy, dense; an enormous pressure bearing down upon you. You suddenly feel like the room is closing in around you, everything feels hot and prickly and uncomfortable. There’s a volcano in your chest and it’s never been so near eruption. Everything you’ve ever wanted to say, every word you’ve ever wanted his ears to hear, is threatening burst from your mouth like a river finally free of the dam. 

Maybe it’s his closeness. Maybe it’s the way he looks in the wane moonlight. Maybe it’s the barely perceptible tremor in his voice as he spoke the word “friends”. But you’ve never been so close to bursting.

“I don’t want to be your friend,” it slips out before you can stop it, and you bite your tongue so hard it bleeds. 

“What?” He stiffens against you.

Your tongue tears itself away from your teeth. Everything is bubbling up so fast, your will to keep your heart in darkness is fracturing and you scramble to patch up the leaks. 

“I don’t-I mean- I,” you babble, pushing yourself away from him. It’s the wrong move- the look of confused hurt painted across his face crushes everything to dust and the spring finally bursts forth.

“I don’t want to be your friend, I want to be more!” you cry out, the weight of what you are doing hitting you square in the chest. “I want more and I can’t have it and it hurts, it hurts so bad but it would hurt worse to give you up. That’s what I was thinking earlier, thoughts not worth even a penny because they are stupid, useless, hopeless. Tonight has been one of the worst nights of my life, being so close to you but feeling like you are a million miles away.”

You’re sitting up beside him now, the space between you feeling like a vast ocean. His mouth hangs open slightly, violet eyes wide with shock as you continue your rant. 

“I know these feelings are inappropriate. I shouldn’t be thinking of my Captain this way. But I can’t help it. I wasn’t even thinking about love and then you-the real you, this you-stepped in front of me and just...just....just reached out and took it. You took my heart for your own and you didn’t even know it. I....I’m in love with you and it’s tearing me apart that you don’t feel the same!”

You finish, chest heaving, breath puffing like you have just run a race. You can’t even bear to look at him. Those soft violet eyes, the idea that they may be filled with pity and reproach at your words makes you sick to your stomach. You sit with your head hung, waiting for him to break your heart even further.

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Stay tuned for Part 2!

#william vangeance x reader #william vangeance imagine #william vageance #black clover #black clover x reader #black clover imagine #black clover fic #wiliam vangeance fic #anime #anime fic #anime imagines #william black clover #reader insert #black clover anime #william vangeance x you #black clover x you #william x reader #william x you #my writing

[spencers-renaissance]

To Look On Tempests and Not Be Shaken

Summary: In the wake of a blazing row and an empty apartment, Aaron finds Spencer's well-thumbed copy of Shakespeare's sonnets and recalls the morning after their wedding, when Spencer sat on his lap and read Sonnet 116 to him. Suddenly, everything makes sense.

Tags: angst with a happy ending, fighting and making up, married hotchreid, relationship dynamics, introspection, fluff, shakespeare/literature

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2.6k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

(Set in S11, AU in which Haley/Aaron divorced in S1 and Aaron/Spencer married in S4.)

It wasn’t really either of their faults: work was relentless at the moment and they hadn’t had any real time for one another in weeks. That’s not really a consolation to either Spencer or Aaron, however, when they’re in the middle of a blazing row that has them both drowning in flames of anger and passion, unable to see one another for the smoke filling their apartment. 

“Aaron, this is the fourth case in a row that you’ve stayed at  the office past 4 in the morning to wrap up the paperwork,” Spencer shouts, frustration rising in his chest as he tugs at his hair, already feeling far too overwhelmed. Aaron is looking as unbothered and stoic as he always does during their fights, and even though Spencer is fully aware of the emotion that will be stirring under his carefully constructed mask, it doesn’t make it any less exasperating. 

“You know as well as I do that this sort of work load is completely unavoidable,” Aaron says lowly, anger finally audible in his voice. It’s not as satisfying as Spencer had hoped. “We can’t keep rehashing this same old argument. I’m the Unit Chief of a team in one of the most prestigious FBI departments. I have a responsibility.”

“You have a responsibility to me and Jack as well,” Spencer cries, fury bubbling over as he thinks of Jack and just how much he deserves. “We deserve your time just as much as fucking serial killers do.”

Aaron visibly flinches as Spencer swears, an occurrence rare enough to indicate serious emotion. “This is exactly the argument I used to have with Haley, Spencer,” he says harshly. “I refuse to have it with you, too. If you can’t handle it then maybe you should leave, just like she did, hm?”

“Have you ever stopped to consider that maybe that means there’s an element of truth in it then, Aaron?” Spencer asks, voice breaking slightly as the scale tips away from uncontained ire towards hopeless misery. He turns away from his husband, trying in vain to conceal his crumpled face and damp eyes. “And you know I would never do that to you; don’t you dare throw your unresolved issues back in my face.”

“I can’t deal with this right now,” Aaron says, voice and face hardened; Spencer can almost see the walls he’s building up again, the stubborn refusal to concede any point. “You’re not being rational. I’m going to bed.”

His stomach twists with the desperation of the situation as he says quietly to Aaron’s turned, retreating back, “What happened to never going to bed angry?” He doesn’t turn back around. 

⭐️

Aaron waits in bed for Spencer to join him, fully intending to feign sleep the moment he enters the bedroom but nevertheless longing to know he’s safely tucked next to him in bed. When he hears the quiet click of the front door and checks the time to see he’s been waiting for almost 25 minutes, though, a panicked feeling fills his chest. He throws the covers back and treads out to the living room, only to be met with a decidedly empty room. If he was a more spiritual man he’d say he could still feel the angry aura of their previous argument lingering over the furniture. Really what he feels is the inevitable, empty vacuum a home without Spencer in it is bound to house. 

He sits down on the sofa, just on the wrong side of too cold in his threadbare t-shirt and underwear, and buries his head in his hands. The problem is that he knows Spencer’s right. He and Jack both deserve better than this kind of life, of course they do. Jack deserves a father, Spencer deserves a husband. Admitting such a fact, however, requires humility, vulnerability, failure almost. It means telling his boss that he needs reinforcements, that he can’t continue with the 80+ hour weeks, that he’s not as strong as he used to be. 

That sort of thing takes a courage that feels so far out of reach, though, and he’s left defending a place he doesn’t want to be in against people he loves more than anything in the world. 

Forcing himself out of his miserable carousel of thoughts and regrets, he pulls his head from his hands and catches sight of a note on the coffee table, his name scrawled across it in Spencer’s handwriting. Immediately, his heart sinks: it’s unlikely a love letter. It’s far more likely it’s a note of good riddance, an announcement of abandonment. 

Turning it over in his shaking hands, he reads: 

I’ve gone to stay with Derek and Penelope for the night. I will pick up Jack from Jessica’s in the morning, on my way home. I love you. Spencer 

He immediately feels guilt at ever having thought that Spencer would be cruel enough to leave him in the same way he’s been left himself one too many times. His husband has an incredible amount of love filling his heart, and he’s simply incapable of such cruelty. It’s been a fear of his for many years, that Spencer would grow unhappy but be too kind to leave, prioritising Aaron above himself. He knows it’s Haley’s fault for embedding such fear and doubt in his heart all those years ago, but he can’t help but berate himself for ever doubting Spencer. 

It’s not like they’re about to break up. When he considers the situation logically, he knows that. He loves Spencer, Spencer loves him, and ultimately, he’s going to relent. He’s going to draw on whatever shreds of courage remain in his tattered and beaten soul and do whatever it takes to make his family happy, to give them what they deserve. He just has no idea how to cross the gaping chasm that stands in the way of reaching that eventuality. 

He goes to place the note back down on the coffee table, but his eyes land on the book it had originally rested on: Spencer’s well-loved copy of Shakespeare’s sonnets. He picks it up, sort of absent-mindedly, thumbing the pages the love of his life has read countless times, holding on to the book as an emotional connection to Spencer. It’s travelled their entire relationship with them; he remembers it laying on his spare bedside table back when Spencer visited his apartment in the dead of night, terrified of anyone finding them out. He’d read the poems over and over again, long into the night. Aaron can’t help but smile at the memory of Spencer’s unique quirks. 

Eventually, his absent fiddling lands him on a page Spencer’s visited time and time again. A worn leather bookmark Aaron recognises as one of Diana’s gifts marks the page titled Sonnet 116. Tired and lovelorn, he begins reading.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds  Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove. O no! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wand'ring bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me prov'd, I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd. Sonnet 116, William Shakespeare 

((Modern Translation, if you’d prefer:

I will not admit that interferences are possible in the union of two people In love. Love that changes when circumstances do is not love, Nor if it bends when someone tries to destroy it: Oh no! It is an eternally fixed point, Which may watch storms but is never shaken by them; it is the guiding star for ever lost ship: Its distance may be measured but its quality cannot be. Love does not fall victim to Time, though features of youth Are eventually entrapped by him; Love doesn’t change as hours and weeks race past, But endures until death. If this is wrong, and I’m proved incorrect, Then I never wrote, and no man ever loved.))

The words come rushing back to him as soon as he reads them: it had been a contender for Spencer’s chosen poem at their wedding. He’d eventually gone with I loved you first by Christina Rosetti, the perfect compliment to his own choice of I love you by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, but on their first morning as a married couple, laid in their warm and comfortable bed, Spencer had pulled out this very book and straddled Aaron’s thighs, reading it to him with an earnest expression. He remembers the air being punched out of his chest as he’d looked up at a bright-eyed 27-year-old Spencer who had been through so much already but still held all the grace and innocence he did on his first day at the BAU.

He doesn’t realise he’s crying until a tear runs down his nose and splashes on the page. What really tips him over the edge is reading Spencer’s small, chicken-scratch annotations around the poem, noting different points in their relationship, events between the two of them that prove the words of an Englishman born 400 years earlier.  

It’s so easy for him to doubt how much Spencer loves him - insecurities and the trauma of his separation from Haley consume him far too often - but he’s holding the tangible, physical proof. This is undeniable, this is the evidence his doubtful, damaged heart yearns for, and the furious, raging, endlessly tumultuous waters inside him settle for the first time in weeks.  

⭐️

The second Aaron’s alarm goes off at 6am, he gets started on the plan he’d formed as soon as the words of Shakespeare’s sonnet had sunk in. The email he’d composed the night before is the first thing his laptop screen displays when he powers it on, and he presses send on the uncompromising, demanding letter he’d addressed to Cruz. Finally feeling good about the entire situation, he turns the coffee maker on and gets dressed; Spencer’s an early riser but he’s determined to get to Derek and Penelope’s before he leaves. 

The relief is freeing, and he feels light for the first time in a long time. He hadn’t quite realised just how much it had all been weighing on him until he’d finally found the courage to cut it free. 

Armed with two coffees and Shakespeare’s sonnets, he heads downstairs to the taxi he’d ordered the night before. The city races past in front of the slow and steady sunrise, dawn marking a new chapter in Aaron’s life that he’s determined to make worth it. Slowly the thick of the city fades into the suburbs, and the taxi slows down as they wind through the maze of identical looking streets until they arrive at Derek and Penelope’s home. 

He pays the taxi driver as quickly as possible and sighs in relief at the sight of Spencer’s car still on the drive as he climbs out of the vehicle, carefully balancing his two coffees, still warm in their thermal mugs. Fully aware that Derek and Penelope are absolutely going to chew him out the minute they lay eyes on him, he hesitantly rings the doorbell. 

“Man, what the hell?” Derek exclaims, clearly exasperated as he swings the door open, revealing a sorry looking Aaron Hotchner standing sheepishly on his doorstep. 

“I know,” Aaron replies immediately, trying to portray as much regret and understanding with his body language as is possible when holding two coffees with  your husband’s most prized possession perched precariously under your arm. “I know, I fucked up, and I’m sorry. I need to see Spencer.”

Derek looks thoroughly put out just being in Aaron’s presence, but after a moment or two of hesitation he relents, opening the door wider to let him through. “Alright,” he sighs. “I’ll ask if he’s okay to see you.”

He parks Aaron in the living room and then leaves to go and find Spencer. Only seconds later, he hears the hurried click of kitten heels on the wooden floor and internally cringes; if facing Derek was bad, facing Penelope will be infinitely more painful.

“Aaron Hotchner,” Penelope shouts before she’s even fully entered the living room, “I have never, and I mean never been more disappointed in you. I don’t think you fully appreciate how lucky you are. You may be my boss but that does not mean I will not chew you out when you screw up this bad. Anyone who makes my Spencer cry is in my bad books for at least two weeks. You are in the dog house, you understand me? The dog house.”

She’s thankfully cut off from continuing her rant by Spencer’s shy, hesitant appearance at the doorway. Penelope immediately rushes over and gives him a hug, whispering something in his ear that Aaron doesn’t catch but makes Spencer giggle. She reaches up to ruffle his hair before patting his cheek fondly and casting a furious glare in Aaron’s direction as she vacates the living room. 

“Hi,” Aaron says softly, breaking the silence left in the wake of Storm Penelope. “I bought you a coffee.” 

“What are you doing here, Aaron?” Spencer asks, clearly a little confused but still accepting the drink. 

“I know you said that you’d come home this morning but I had to come and get you,” he replies, standing up from his seat on the couch and taking a few steps forward. “Look… your note last night, it was on top of this book. And in my absent-minded cloud of misery I was looking through it and came across Sonnet 116.”

A flicker of recognition lights up Spencer’s eyes as his face softens a little at the sight of his beloved book.

“Do you remember? Climbing into my lap on our one day wedding anniversary and reading it to me? Back then I was partly distracted by the gorgeous man in my arms but last night… Spencer, the words hit home in a way I haven’t felt before. Not to mention your annotations; I felt like I was reading a journal of our love story, which I know was probably your intention all along.” He shakes his head, trying to get back on track. “I’ve been an idiot, a rotten fool, and I’m so sorry. I emailed Cruz this morning. 

“You did?” Spencer looks up, surprise filling his features for a second before a small, hopeful smile takes over. “What did you say?”

“That I couldn’t continue with the workload and I needed reinforcements. That I would work the same hours for two more weeks to allow them to find an adequate solution, but after that I’ll be reducing my hours to align almost directly with yours,” he says, tentatively gauging Spencer’s reaction. 

It’s made pretty easy for him when Spencer’s hesitantly hopeful smile blossoms into a wide grin, relaxing his posture as relief overtakes his body and he throws himself into Aaron’s arms. Aaron buries his face into his husband’s curls and lets himself breathe easy, feeling infinitely better with Spencer wrapped up in his arms again, just where he belongs. 

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Aaron whispers as he pulls Spencer impossibly closer. 

“I’m sorry, too,” Spencer sighs, nestling his face further into Aaron’s neck. “We both said things we shouldn’t have. But, you’re here now, and that’s what counts.”

“I love you, you know that?” Aaron murmurs, pulling away slightly so he can look Spencer in the eyes, trying to convey his sincerity as well as possible. 

“I know,” he smiles. “I love you, too.”

“Come on, sweetheart,” Aaron says, patting Spencer’s side gently. “Let’s get out of here before Penelope comes to stab me with her high heels.” 

Spencer giggles at that. “I don’t know, maybe, I’d like to see that,” he teases, digging his finger into Aaron’s ribs for good measure. 

“Oh, stop it you,” Aaron smiles fondly before kissing the top of Spencer’s head, feeling happier in this moment than he’d ever thought possible again last night. Peace is finally restored in Aaron Hotchner’s heart, all thanks to one rather ancient English playwright and an academic for a husband. “Let’s go and get Jack,” he says, longing to have his whole family back together, to restore the equilibrium of a tumultuous few weeks. 

Spencer leans down to kiss his shoulder as they walk out of the Morgan-Garcia household, and it’s enough to keep him warm the whole way home.

@strippersenseii @criminalmindsvibez

#hotchreid #my writing #hotchreid fic #hotchreid writing #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #aaron hotchner/spencer reid #aaron hotchner x spencer reid

[infinitebells]

sooooooooo: angst. moran's s/o getting hurt trying to protect him i love pain

i love these angst asks, they’re my guilty pleasure to write for tbh

✧ it happens so fast that he doesn’t even realize what’s happened until you’re on the ground, groaning in pain

✧ he’ll immediately kill whoever hurt you before rushing back to you to check the damage

✧ because he was in the war, he knows how to push his emotions aside for the time being and focus on the emergency

✧ after seeing that you need serious medical attention, he’ll do his best to stop whatever bleeding there is (let’s go for the idea that you got shot in the side)

✧ as soon as the team reaches the manor, louis and william and treating you because they trained themselves in first aid once their crime consulting started becoming a bigger part of their lives

✧ moran stays by your side the entire time, holding your hand and letting you squeeze whenever you want to

✧ once they’ve stopped the bleeding and have you wrapped up, they’ll let moran take you to your and his room where he’ll gently set you on the bed

✧ you’ve been in and out since you got shot, so he’ll persuade you to just close your eyes and sleep, laying next to you and brushing the hair out of your face

✧ he promises to stay by your side the entire time, and when you finally close your eyes and fall asleep, he feels like he can breathe again

✧ after staying stoic and strong so that you don’t freak out, as soon as you’re asleep he feels everything rush back

✧ he’s sitting with his back to the headboard, head in his hands as he tries to choke back sobs because for the first time in his life he almost lost the only person he’s ever loved

✧ it was a terrifying moment, seeing you laid out in your own blood, shallow breaths just barely there

✧ sebastian moran is a man with limited emotions, so when you jolt awake, seeing him sitting back with his head against the headboard, tears streaming down his face, your heart breaks

✧ he’s too worked up to realize you’re even awake, so he jumps when he feels your small hands grab his wrists

✧ he lets you maneuver him so that he’s pressed into your non-injured side, his head resting on your chest with your hands running through his hair

✧ you hold him and let him cry, shedding a few tears of your own at the sight of the love of your life, your rock through everything, break down in your very arms

✧ when he feels your tears on the back of his neck, he looks up, eyes still glassy to see you wiping your eyes

✧ “what’s wrong love? are you okay? am i hurting you? talk to me,”

✧ your tears come even faster at his sweet words, choking on sobs as your head drops

✧ he sits up immediately, gently grabbing your face and wiping the tears from your face with the pads of his thumbs, eyeing your face intently

✧ when you finally calm down, your tears are still coming, but they’re occasional and small

✧ “i just hate seeing you so upset, it makes me feel really sad knowing i’m the reason you’re crying,”

✧ he’s shocked to say the least, eyes wide and mouth agape at your words

✧ he’ll slowly sit next to you, very carefully picking you up and setting you in his lap with your legs extended over his own and your temple resting against his chest

✧ you’re both quiet before he speaks again

✧ “i love you, i couldn’t cope with the idea that i had almost lost you. please don’t be upset, we’ll both focus on the fact that you’re here, and i’ll always protect you no matter what ok?”

✧ you don’t have it in you to give a verbal response, merely nodding before shifting against him, eyes closing on instinct

✧ when you fall asleep again, he’ll calm down, basking in the warmth of your curled up body against his

✧ your recovery will be hard, and you’ll both have to talk about your feelings with each other, but right now all that he can think about is how thankful he is to have you with him

#yuukoku no moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #moriarty the patriot #moriarty the patriot x reader #sebastian moran #bells responds

[random-imagines-blog]

Get Hurt {Dean Winchester x Reader}

Requested by:  @fandomofyourchoice-89​ Wordcount: 3973 Summary: Arguing with Dean is never fun. Getting into an accident after you leave said argument is even worse. But such things can have a silver lining. Notes: Some swearing.

You might have offered a lot of things to Dean Winchester, but your freedom was not one of those things. A bit of flesh here, a bit of blood there was one thing, but letting him dictate who you am allowed to talk to - and when? That was asking too much of you. When you woke up to a good morning text from the bartender you were chatting with the night before, you had been feeling pretty on top of the world. It was nice to have a little bit of positive attention, even if it wasn’t exactly from the person you were hoping to have it from. Dean may know monsters, but he couldn’t pick up on your feelings, even from a foot away. He snatched the phone out of your hand to see who the text was from, joking that it was probably from your mom, but when he saw the unfamiliar number, he went from teasing to overprotective. That was not the Dean that you liked to see. He was treating you like you were his car, when someone else was trying to get in the driver’s seat.

“I don’t need to justify myself to you of all people!” You said, wrinkling your nose as you pulled on your sweater for the day. The weather outside wasn’t at the point of frightful, but it was still chilly for the early fall. It helped you to feel less exposed to Dean’s eyes as well, which was good with how sharp they were being today.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Dean shot back. You looked over at Sam, hoping for some sort of aid, but there was nothing there. The tall moose of a man just disappeared into the small bathroom, closing the door behind him. On one hand, that was a smart move. Your fights with Dean were known to be explosive, though they didn’t happen very often. It was usually just sarcastic comments. But no amount of sass was enough to express your anger today. You were not in the mood to deal with this shit. Not today, and not ever. On the other, it was annoying. You could really use the back up.

“It means that you don’t get to lecture me about a single text message, when you’re the one who always goes home with the bartenders, the single moms, who even knows anymore. Any woman gives you a pretty smile and you swoon off into the sunset, leaving Sam and I behind. And you’re giving me hell over a single text? Really?”

“I don’t sleep with every girl, and it shouldn’t matter! I work hard, I deserve to have a little fun.”

“The fact that you don’t think I work hard enough to exchange numbers with one guy is insulting, Winchester. Downright insulting. You threw your coat on over your sweater, given the weather - and you just wanted to have as much of your clothes on as possible. And there was good reason for that. “You know that vacation that I’ve been talking about taking? I’m leaving today. Right now, actually. Goodbye to your storm cloud, hello sunny California.”

“You don’t get to walk away like this,” Dean said, going to the door that lead to the outside world, and folded his arms. “We have a lot of work to do in this area, Bobby said-”

“Then you better get to it then, shouldn’t you? No time to waste. Not for Dean, the hard working man! And since I hardly do anything, according to you, I should leave. I wouldn’t want to be a hindrance to your greatness!”

In response to this, all that you got was silence. You threw your bag over your shoulder, and put your helmet under your arm, ready to leave. Your bike was calling you, and you were looking forward to the dust blowing under your tires back out on the open road. The problem was that Dean still wasn’t moving.

“Get out of my way, Winchester,” You said, reverting to last names. That tended to be how you reacted when angry at him.

“No,” He said, his biceps flexing beneath the flannel shirt that was keeping him warm. “You know that we need you-”

“And I need away from you!” You shouted, exasperated. “Either you are going to move from that door, or so help me, I’m going to call the police on your credit card scams.”

It was one of the few threats that you had under your belt. Sure, he and Sam would get booked and it would take a couple of hours for Bobby to talk them out of it, but that was a couple of hours horribly wasted.

“Fine, leave, just walk away,” Dean’s deep voice seemed to go even deeper as he moved away from the door.

“Fuck you,” You said, giving him the finger as you walked out of the motel room. It felt good to leave that negativity behind. That overbearing feeling that made you feel as if Dean only saw you as a little sister, rather than as the capable woman that you knew you were. Actually, it was like he didn’t see you as a woman at all, which was hurtful. You’ve loved him so long and-

And you were going to leave that behind, just for a little while. You would come back eventually. The Winchester charm always got to you, the same way that it did for every other woman that Dean talked to. It was the shy, stoic nature behind those green eyes. The way that he quietly seemed to look into your soul, and never had a complaint about what was found.

Think of the palm trees that you were going to see. Think of the beaches, the waves rolling on the sand. Think of being able to lay out and feel the sun on your skin. You could order fruity alcohol drinks from hot waiters wearing only their bathing suits. Maybe you’ll even spot a Kardashian, which you could rub into Dean’s face. You could roll over and say, “Ha, Dean, I spotted her first!”

Except for the fact that Dean wouldn’t be there. It was just as much a break from him as it was a break from the hunt.

You got onto your bike, put the helmet atop your head, and backed away from the black impala as quickly as you could. You refused to look back. That would just be giving Dean satisfaction that you were having second thoughts.

You turned out of the motel and ended up on a long stretch of road that lead west. That was exactly the way that you wanted to go. There weren’t many people about, considering this wasn’t one of the big highways though that would be coming soon.

You slowed down as you saw a shadow dart out across the road, coming from one of the patches of trees. It startled you enough that you lost your balance on the bike, and it started to wobble beneath you. You braced yourself for the crash as the bike finally decided which side it was going to fall on, and you skidded off of the concrete onto the brush by the side of the road. All you can remember is trying to make sure the bike didn’t land too hard on your leg, for it could easily break it.

-

When you came to, you were hearing arguing. The familiar sound of Dean’s voice. “Leave Sammy alone,” You groaned, before opening your eyes. Instead of the expected scene of a motel room, you were surprised to see that you were in a hospital bed. And instead of Dean arguing with his brother, it was a small woman in scrubs that was giving Dean hell.

You remembered everything in that instant, and reached up to touch your head, expecting the worst case scenario. You were anticipating blood or bruises or waking up with a huge bulging eye like Quasimodo in the Disney film. Your chin was a bit tender, since that part hadn’t been entirely covered by the helmet, but the rest of your face felt fine. Dean was watching over you with those stern eyes of his, and suddenly you wished that you were ugly. Then he wouldn’t give you shit for leaving because you already suffered the consequences.

“Don’t start,” You said, looking at him before turning your attention to the Doctor. Or nurse, you couldn’t quite tell. “I definitely feel the effects of the painkillers so I don’t really know what’s wrong.”

The doctor went into professional mode, coming to your side and checking the IV bag that was giving you fluids. “I’m Dr. Williams, you’re in the Kansas Medical Center, and you’re going to be just fine, first and foremost. You did break two of your ribs, but neither ended up piercing any organs. You did fracture your femur and patella, though with some physiotherapy once the cast is off, you should be back to normal, unless you were running marathons.”

“Not quite,” You said, breathing out in relief. Though that did make you well aware of the odd feeling in your chest. Those pesky broken ribs, no doubt.

The doctor left the room after giving you another sweep, and an idea of how long you may have to be in the hospital for. Another night of observation, then she wanted to have you come in for physiotherapy. You said you would, though no doubt you would be back on the road before then, and doing your own exercises. This wasn’t the first time that you’ve broken a bone, though it was the first time it happened outside of a hunt. You figured you knew enough to take care of it on your own.

“What, because I left you had to argue with the Doctor too? Your temper knows no bounds, Winchester,” You said to Dean once Sam stepped out to get some coffee. Dean looked far from amused at that. “Did our insurance scam not go through?”

“This isn’t a joke,” Dean said, closing the door to your private room. That alone told you that the insurance went through. There’s no way that they would put you in a room like this unless they were getting the big bucks. American Medical Care at it’s finest. “You were an inch away from puncturing a lung. If the farmer didn’t see you wipe out-”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure that being friends with angels had a hand in that,” You leaned back against the pillow rather than attempted to sit up. Dean came to stand at the end of the bed, and clenched his fists around the bars at the end of it. “Look, I don’t know how they got a hold of you, or what you think you’re doing, but I’m still taking off to California. Just ... bring my bike to Bobby’s and I’ll fix it when I get back. I’ll just fly, or bus as soon as I can sit up properly.”

“The hell you are,” He raised his voice at you. He hadn’t straight up yelled at you like that in quite some time, even while he was angry. It was startling. “We are all sticking around here, and you are going to listen to the Doctor’s orders.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” You muttered. No Winchester was good at following orders, not even from a well-meaning Doctor. And because of how much time you’ve spent around them, you might as well have been one.

“Excuse me?” He asked, quick to hear your words.

“You’re not well known for following anyone’s orders, Winchester. You just like giving them out, even when completely unwarranted. Like right now,” You glared at him. “Did you just come here to tell me more about what I should and shouldn’t do? To gloat? Just tell me what you want from me, so that we can move on, honestly. This is getting old.”

“I want you to be safe!” He said, his hands tightening around the rails, the knuckles turning white. “I don’t want you off with some random guy, and I don’t want you alone in California and I don’t want you to crash your stupid damn bike on a country road!”

“Why do you think that I can’t take care of myself? We’ve been hunting together for years now!”

The look in his eye after I said this made me sink a little into myself. They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions. And the hurt that he was feeling made me understand that he was leaving no bit of road unpaved.

“You ended up in the hospital because you ran away,” Dean said, leaning down low, hanging his head so that you could no longer see his expression. That didn’t mean that the pain was invisible, though. “And I’m the one that made you do that.”

“And if I died, you would blame yourself,” You sighed, catching his line of thinking. “But I’m okay. I’m always okay.” You would have gone to the other end of the bed and touched his hand if you could. You could feel the anger and the guilt radiating off of him, like black lines in an anime show. But the discomfort, and pain which was starting to come through despite the meds, was making you stay where you were. “Alright, I have an idea.”

He lifted his head slightly at that, his eyes wide and glistening like a Disney princess. The great Dean Winchester, crying?

“Buy me a burger, bring it back here and we’ll have a dinner and talk - actually talk, not yell at each other this time, okay?”

-

After you were released from the hospital, limping on a cast that was a huge hindrance, things began to change. You couldn’t tell if it was from guilt or because Dean actually wanted to take care of you. But you let him do whatever it was that he wanted to do, because it was the only way for him to cope with what had happened. You and Sam had talked about it late one night when Dean was out to get you your favorite burger, and both agreed that it was best to let this run it’s course, unless he got entirely overbearing again. It was bound to happen sooner or later though. He had already offered to carry you to Baby on more than one occasion rather than let you hobble.

“Dean,” You groaned for the second time that day, though you were definitely blushing more this time. It was a good thing that he couldn’t see through the bathroom door. He was just on the other side of it, so he could hear you, though. “I can bathe by myself. You’re just getting perverted now.”

“I just want to help,” He said, being able to hear that stupid damn smirk on his face. God, he was irresistible. Even you had to admit that it had  been nice to have him pamper you. But now he was wanting to help you wash in the bath while your cast had to be raised up on the edge of the tub. It had been a little difficult to get in and out of lately.

You wrapped the robe tighter around your body. “If I agree...” You said, coyly, biting on your lip, fingers against the lock. “Do you promise that you won’t look.”

“Depends,” He said, and you saw the door physically move, like he was leaning against it. “Are there going to be bubbles to help cover you up?”

You looked behind you at the bathtub that was about half full. You had a small pile of bathbombs that you bought online to at least try to make the experience a little better. It took a lot longer to get in and out of the bath, so you might as well make it as pretty as possible. “There might be a few bubbles, but the water will be colored,” You admitted. It would hide some parts of your body pretty well. But others would be sticking out.  

“I promise I’ll try my best,” was all that Dean had to offer.

“Okay just umm - just give me a second, alright?” You unlocked the door to the bathroom, then attempted to take a step backwards, but pushed a little too roughly on your casted foot. A sharp pain went through your leg and you cursed yourself for being so stupid.

“Are you alright?” Dean asked, his ears catching onto that.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just a minute, alright?”  You called out. You took off the robe, and grabbed the towel instead. You wrapped it around your body in a way that it would be easy to take off once you were ready to sink down into the water. What you really needed help with was keeping your balance as you went down, since you had to keep one leg up. Even then, you had it wrapped in cellophane so it wasn’t as likely to get wet. You definitely regretted taking off the way that you did.

You put your good foot into the water, then crouched down, attempting to go on your own as far as you could, but you felt yourself wobbling. You had to put your casted leg on the ground outside of the tub again. You didn’t trust yourself not to fall. Holding the towel tightly against your chest, you finally said, “Okay, I need help. But don’t look, okay?”

The door slowly opened and Dean came inside, one hand covering his eyes and the other reaching out to try to grab a hold of something. He himself nearly tripped on the small carpet and you had to hold your hand out to steady him. You sighed, wondering if he was being this bad on purpose. “Alright, just hold my hand and help me get down, yeah?”

Dean could at least do this. As you got closer to the water, you slid your towel off with the hand that Dean wasn’t holding, and tossed it outside of the tub.

“What was that?” He questioned right away.

“My towel,” You admitted to him. “So keep your damn eyes closed.”

“Eyes closed. Scout’s honor.”

“As if you were a scout.”

You balanced your bad leg on top of the lip of the bathtub so it was jutting out. It was a bit awkward but once you were sitting in the tub, and leaned back, it was a lot better. You sighed contently, then realized that Dean was still holding onto your hand. You quickly snatched it out of his grip then closed the shower curtain on him so he couldn’t see anything anyway. “I’m all sorted, thanks.”

“No problem,” He said from the other side of the curtain. You waited for him to leave but you didn’t hear any footsteps, nor the bathroom door open and close. But what you did see was one side of the curtain moving slightly, as if it were being pulled ever so slowly.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Can’t blame a man for trying,” He chuckled, the curtain falling back into position. “I never ... really apologized for making you run away. And causing all of this.”

“You could never make me do anything. And you didn’t cause this. The stupid farmer who didn’t mind his chickens did,” You wrinkled your nose, thinking about how tempted you were to sue that guy. “Though I will accept your apology about being a jerk. And a bitch.”

“Hey,” He said. You heard the toilet cover flip down, and Dean had the audacity to sit on it. The nerve! Although ... it was actually really sweet that he was in here, making sure that you didn’t have to bathe alone. “I might have been being stubborn, but I had a point. That bartender was a jerk. He was giving his number to everyone with a pulse.”

“So what if he was? It’s not your job to tell me who I can and can’t see. And if I do end up getting hurt, then it’s on him, and it shouldn’t be me that you get mad at.”a

“I wasn’t mad at you,” He said, and you could hear him tensing. The water was moving in small ripples around your body, and it was the only thing causing sound. “I was mad at myself for not telling you sooner.”

“Telling me what?”

“That I care about you.”

This was getting to be a  bit too much for you handle. You put your hands on either side of the tub, took in a deep breath, then lowered yourself into the purple-colored water. It smelled strongly of lavender with jasmine, and the scent had filled your nose just as you slipped under the water. You didn’t open your eyes, you just went under to cool the feeling of your cheeks burning. Even the warm water was cooler than that. When  you rose yourself up, you saw to your dismay that Dean was peeking around the side of the curtain. But at least his eyes were on yours, rather than on any part of your body. And that everything you didn’t want him to see was covered by the colored water and the bubbles that came with it.

“What are you doing?” You said, moving your hands to cover yourself up further.

“You didn’t reply.”

“Did I have to? I would think that my actions over the last few months in particular spoke enough for me.”

Dean stepped back, the curtain moving into it’s usual position, but you still didn’t relax. “It’s really hard to have this conversation when you’re naked.”

“Shouldn’t have started it then,” You grumbled, but you couldn’t even find yourself getting mad. Dean cared about you. That was something that he didn’t say to many people. If he did express that - holy shit, were you ever in. Neither of you spoke for the next ten minutes. Instead, you just focused on yourself, washing your body and your hair. As far as you could tell, Dean didn’t peek again, but remained on his seat on the porcelain throne. “I’m going to need some help up, if that’s alright,” You said, once you’ve finished.

“Yeah,” He said. “Eyes are covered.”

You pulled the plug on the bath, and watched as Dean’s strong arm came through the curtain, holding his hand down low to grasp yours. You took it, and slowly, with the help of his sturdiness, got back onto your good foot, the other still being supported by the side of the bathtub. “Do you think you could...” You were about to ask him for your towel but he took  his hand away from you before you could finish your sentence. Instead of getting handed a towel, the curtain opened and revealed Dean holding open your robe. He no longer had his hand over his eyes like a child, but he was facing the opposite way, eyes closed. You smiled, thinking about how sweet he was being.

And hoping it would last after you healed up properly.

#Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester oneshot #Supernatural #Supernatural oneshot #request #oneshot #one shot #deanw

[lightofthedeep]

who are your favorite top ten black clover characters and ships? talk about them!

Well that’s going to be a long list! I’ll state a simplified list and elaborate in the cut then!

Favorite Characters: 

Leopold Vermillion

Finral Roulacase

Langris Vaude

Yuno

Asta

Rill Boismortier 

Fuegeoleon Vermillion

William Vangeance

Mereoleona Vermillion

Dorothy Unsworth

Favorite Ships:

YunoLeo

AsuNoe / Astelle

YamiChar

Mars/Fana

Rillmy

Nozel/Dorothy

WiriPatri

YamiWiri 

Klaus/Letoile

I have no other ships so I’m going for Finral x Light 

Favorite Characters

Wow my favorite character lists is really not that diverse. Vermillion + Captain supremacy. 

1. Leopold Vermillion

Where to begin with Leo? If you can’t tell by my Black Clover fanart being 80% Leopold, you’d know that I am iN LOVE WITH THIS KID AND HIS CHARACTER. I adore Leopold so much it’s such a shame that he doesn’t get as much screen time as he should because he has so much potential. His fiery, energetic, loud personality just sticks out to me. I could go more in detail but I’ll spare them to make this post shorter.

2. Finral Roulacase

WHERE TO BEGIN WITH FINRAL? I am absolutely in love with this man JAOISJDOAIOEHAO. Finral really resonates with me since I feel a connection with him through his low self-worth and his struggles with being an older sibling. Other than that, I absolutely adore him so much. He’s such a cutie and I love all of his comedic moments and how hard working he is sm. 

3. Langris Vaude

This goes to show how much I just love the space brothers. Langris is such a complex character and I LOVE his relationship with Finral. Of course, a lot of people are really quick to hate on Langris-- and rightfully so. But examining his character, it definitely shows reason (but def not excuses) to why Langris acts the way he does. 

4. Yuno

I just straight up adore Yuno. I love his stoic, cold character and his reasons for it. He could have his comedic moments which is quite hilarious to say the very least. I do wish we would know more about his experiences in the Golden Dawn though since I feel like even though he’s a main character, we hardly know anything about him. But he is just as hardworking as Asta and I love how healthy his rivalry with Asta is.

5. Asta

Asta is what the cool kids call, “the GOAT.” I absolutely love his character and his role as the MC of the series. I think Tabata writes his character really well. I love how he always picks himself back up, despite literally the entire world being against him. I think Asta is very inspirational and hands down one of my favorite shonen protagonists. He is very underrated and it pains me to see him downgraded to someone who screams a lot since he really doesn’t scream that much past the beginning. (I personally found his screaming endearing!)

6. Rill Boismortier

RILL IS MY FAVORITE CAPTAIN AAAAA! HE IS SO CUTE! As an artist, I absolutely adore his magic! I just love everything about him; his carefree attitude, his entire design, his laugh, everything!

7. Fuegeoleon Vermillion

King Vermillion, everyone! I just have a soft spot for the Vermillions. I love how strong Fuego is! He’s such a kind-hearted person with such a strong will! I’m super glad he has Salamander by his side because he deserves it!!!!!!!!!!! Out of everyone, I’m hoping he’ll be the next wizard king. 

8. William Vangeance

You know what’s funny? I didn’t know people actually hated Vangeance until I encountered BC twitter lmao. But I love Vangeance so much. He’s another huge, complex character that people seem to either hate him or love him. His characters throughout the entire series plays such a huge role and I love that. 

9. Mereoleona Vermillion

QUEEN VERMILLION! I just love how she isn’t your typical magic knight and she just does her own thing! She is the epitome of powerful woman and she is hands down, imo, the strongest captain. 

10. Dorothy Unsworth

oH MAN??? GLAMOUR WORLD? ARE YOU KIDDING? Her entire character is phenomenal. From her design, to her magic, to her personality, she just screams perfection. I do wish to know more about her soon, though we got a glimpse of it when she was talking to Noelle about Megicula!

Favorite Ships

If I’m being honest, I really only have a top 3? But the only ship I’m actually passionate about is yunoleo so--

1. YunoLeo

If you’re new to my account, you’d definitely find this ship to be a surprise. It actually wasn’t a ship I thought about until my friend Himae and I were joking talking about Yuno and Leo and then went “holy shit wait---” The relationship of YunoLeo is all about POTENTIAL since the two have not interacted much in canon. But, I can’t stress enough how perfect I think Yuno and Leo would be together. They would definitely go into the “rivals-to-lovers” and “opposites attract” tropes. Not to mention, my personal headcanon for both of them is that they’re both gay.  I believe if Tabata were to allow Yuno and Leopold to interact more, it would definitely show the potential they would have together. I could elaborate more in detail but I think this post would be way too long. 

2. AsuNoe / Astelle

Out of everyone in the “Asta harem,” I tend to like AsuNoe more, surprisingly. I feel like I’m not quite used to shipping the main MCs together, let alone the MC with the tsundere female MC. However, I have a soft spot for Noelle. I feel like if her character wasn’t super revolved around her crush on Asta, they’d definitely flow better. I like how they interact. It’s quite obvious that Asta does care about Noelle as much as she does. But, as oblivious as Asta is, I don’t think they’ll get together anything soon LOL. I’m not super passionate about AsuNoe, but I do like them the most out of all the potential Asta ships. From them being teammates, there’s a lot of build-up that can occur, not to mention the huge canon influence.

3. YamiChar

Charlotte’s crush on Yami is the cutest thing ever. I just love the dynamic between her and Yami; Yami being oblivious to her feelings, but thinking Charlotte secretly hates him since she avoids him but Charlotte avoiding him because she’s actually super nervous. I don’t think that Yami has a romantic interest towards Charlotte in canon at the moment, but I do think he does like her. 

4. Mars/Fana

Pretty much canon, I don’t really have much to say about them aside from the fact that I hope they get married already!

5. Rillmy

OKAY RILLMY IS JUST SO CUTE. I definitely adore the idea of the two of them together! Their characters flow really well together and I really think they have potential! Maybe they’ll get more scenes together from this arc? I hope so!

6. Nozel/Dorothy

This ship is really cute to! Though we don’t actually see them interact in canon, the fact that Nozel and Dorothy seem to talk to each other a lot and Nozel being able to confide in Dorothy makes me go ohohoho.

7. WiriPatri

LITERAL SOULMATES. The fact that they were finally able to see one another makes my heart soar. The scene where Patri slowly falls against Vangeance’s shoulder as Vangeance holds him aaaAAAAAA FUCK. TOO GOOD. 

8. YamiWiri

Such a good “rivals-to-lovers” ship. They work so well together and they have SUCH a good, strong relationship. 

9. Klaus/Letoile

Okay listen, I ship them based off of purely aesthetics but like.... hello? Very good. They were in panels together in the manga! That’s enough canon validation for me LMAO.

10. Finral x Light 

canon. amazing. spectacular. all based off on the fact that i am in love with finral roulacase. 

#lighthouse mail #anon #black clover #leopold vermillion #asta #yuno #finral roulacase #langris vaude #rill boismortier #fuegoleon vermillion #mereoleona vermillion #dorothy unsworth #william vangeance #yunoleo #asunoe #astelle #i wont tag the other ships im too tired LOL #THIS TOOK SO LONG TO TYPE OUT

[littleferal]

Pero Tovar and him doing nice things for you or being tender but only when no one else is looking. Stoic man can't let anyone see he cares. So he covers you with his cloak when others are asleep and pets your hair, stands guard while you slip off to bathe in the creek etc. But when suddenly when he is convinced you have been mortally wounded by a stupid thief he confronted there is no stoicism, just anguished spanish whispers. (But you're ok, just banged up pretty bad)

Nonnie I have no idea where you came from but I am loving this!! Don’t stop cos I just spat out a whole 1k words over this ask :’)

We love one (1) grumpy man! Tovar is definitely the type to hide his affections, he has a damn reputation to uphold. Plus he’s just kinda grumpy about life in general? And he’s done this for so long that he’s unsure how else to act. But there’s something so disarming about you and your stubborn kindness despite it all that has him unguarded around you.

The first time he shows any signs of affection towards you he doesn’t even realise what he’s done until he hears William choking back a laugh at his softer words and offer of help. It has Tovar throwing his guard right back up but he falters in the act when he sees your soft smile at his actions, nothing mocking about it. That eases him. So that night he huffs his way through helping you set up you tent, as he had offered, he’s scowling a lot but it’s mostly directed at William. Your soft thank you is worth it.

After that he’s more careful with his affections to the point that sometimes even you don’t catch them, you’re really going to have to pay a lot of attention to his actions. You might find the way he picks apart your fighting style annoying but it’s his way of making sure you stay safe - you’ll eventually recognise he never mocks you like he does the other mercenaries, ripping particularly into William whenever he does something stupid. Have you noticed the way he’ll always sneak you a slightly bigger portion than everyone else when it’s his turn to serve up dinner. Or the way he’ll always meet your eye when you announce you’re off to the creek and the bloody mercenaries can keep to themselves. He’s reassuring you no one will get past him as he sits by the only clear path down to it. The way he’s always just kind of there when you need him, not even appearing just already standing behind you when you need help.

The ones you don’t see are when he’s his most vulnerable. So it’s a cold night and he’s on watch last. He’d wanted to do something for you earlier, had been aware you don’t deal with the cold as well as him, but all he’d been able to do is subtly get you a spot closest to the fire. But when he’s up and the last watch has drifted off he’s edging towards you and gently placing his cloak over you. He wary of waking you, suddenly doesn’t want to be caught doing this by anyone, but he just can’t help himself - the way the moonlight and the firelight throw contrast over your face, the cool blue defining, the warm oranges softening, he moves before he’s realised. Pero gently sweeps your hair back, warm and calloused palm sweeping over your forehead to rest protectively over your bare head as his whole expression softens. He knows now how much he cares for you and it’s starting to scare him. He jolts when you moan sleepily, nothing sensual about it, more of a contented hum as you press up slightly into his hand that he’s already removed. He freezes, waits with bated breath but your don’t wake. He doesn’t move from that spot for the rest of his watch and he’s the first person you see when you wake. You sit up, pulling the cloak around your shoulders, watching the embers still smoking, edging a little bit closer to his heat. By Gods does he notice that, leaning imperceptibly closer to you too but unable to speak a word into the comfortable silence. Thankfully you realise it’s his cloak before the others wake, handing it back to him with a quiet thank you. Your hands meet as you do, the warmth still clinging to the fabric hiding the warmth from his hand but nothing can hide how solid it is pressing into yours. The way he says de nada is the quietest you’ve ever heard him speak, the gravel still in his voice from the early hours. He doesn’t look away from where your hands touch, only jolting away when one of the other mercenaries stir. He doesn’t look at you for most of the morning.

—

He thinks you’ve been run through, an earlier tavern brawl catching up to him when you’re both confronted in an alley. The blood isn’t yours - you’d managed to dodge that lunge - and you’re only keeled over right now because one of them landed a solid punch to your gut, knocking the air from your lungs and leaving you dizzy from your head slamming into the wall in the process. You’d only been vaguely aware of his roar of anger, trying to stumble back to your feet - seconds are precious in a fight and you’ve already lost way too many. In the end the hands that find you first are his, one cupping and searching your face the other fearfully reaching for your side. He doesn’t want to know, doesn’t want to see what he’s so sure is there, an ugly tear right through your side, no way you’ll make this. He’s whispering in Spanish, words he’s never taught you like mi querido, mi amado, you don’t know what they mean but his voice is more anguished than you’ve ever heard, his eyes wide open in fear. No tú, no tú. It takes a bit for you to get your own words out, coughing you way around the pain in your gut. What you do manage to get out is I’m ok. Ok. Bien. He rips your shirt back, ready to shout his anger at your indifference to what he thinks is a killing blow. There’s nothing there, has to run his rough hand over you stomach just to prove to himself you’re not wounded. The way he almost slams his forehead against yours is dizzying again, his breathing heavy over your face. No me dejes. No puedes, no tú. You cling to him just as hard until the adrenaline has left both of you and your breath has returned.

talk to me ✨

#pero tovar #anon asks #asks #headcanons #oops this got long #my writing

[warofroyalsrpg]

— ♔ In the past, people were born royal and for ALYS TUDOR the THIRTY-FOUR-year-old CROWN PRINCESS of WALES, that is a tradition SHE intends to keep. To others, SHE looks an awful lot like CLAIRE FOY and has been painted as THE MEEK SPARE but behind closed doors, SHE is TIMID & BLUNT but also DIGNIFIED & STOIC. It has also been said they are BETROTHED to MATTHEW GOODE, WILLIAM MOSELEY, ALEXANDER LUDWIG, AARON TAYLOR-JOHNSON, OR UTP. (cj/32/cst/she/her)

Welcome Princess Alys Tudor, we hope you enjoy your stay and represent your country of Wales well! The fc of Claire Foy and the country of Wales are now taken! Please check out the checklist and send in your account within twenty-four hours.

The following app contains mentions of murder/death

What is your character’s gender?: Cis Female

Are you filling a wanted connection? If so, which one?: N/A

Please provide three headcanons about your character:

For Alys, growing up second to her brother was as much of a challenge as a rat trying to free itself from an inhumane glue trap…impossible. His bright personality and commanding presence had always lit up the room as if King Ewen, himself, had already entered the building. And it didn’t take the younger of the two to realize her place in the world; silent and in the background. Though extremely bright and well rounded in her studies, the young woman remained quiet watching as her brother grew more fit and apt to take the crown someday. Of course, no one saw what was coming. In everyone’s minds, the belief that Alwyn would one day rule Wales, and quite successfully, had come as default. But of course, there had to be a set path for Alys. Like any great spare, she was set to marry.

Arranged to a man she quietly despised, Alys didn’t counteract her mother and father’s wishes. Though loving him didn’t come easy. While she could tell he longed to be in the spotlight, much like her brother, she thought nothing of it. Instead, she went about her daily life, sometimes bluntly wrangling him back into his place by reminding him of whom he would be marrying.

Life carried on until a trip to Rome. King Ewen, trusting in his son to negotiate policies with the leaders in Italy, sent the young Crown Prince, and his wife. And with some convincing, Alwyn managed to bring along his sister and future brother-in-law.

The trip was a success. The Crown Prince had brought together two nations just as his father had hoped; a sign that he would be a great ruler someday. And to celebrate, Alwyn, along with Alys’ betrothed; a young liaison who had been present at the meeting of the two countries; and a young diplomat to Rome, left the women of their own accord for a night out in Tor Bella Monaca to celebrate. Not exactly the greatest place for two princes, but the perfect coverup for the heinous crime that Alys’ betrothed was about to commit.

Word of the Crown’s death came sometime over the next several hours and the next several months were like a blur. No one had suspected a thing, and the one coherent witness that was there that night was threatened to great lengths. However, in all of this, Alys’ life was thrown upside down when she was soon announced as the new Crown Princess of Wales.

Mourning her brother’s passing would be put on hold as she would take over a role she never expected. But relations between the country of Wales and Italy had turned sour. And with tensions mounting elsewhere in the world, Alys’ father and mother felt it best to send her off to Russia for protection. Losing their pride and joy had nearly destroyed their family, and the idea of possibly losing their daughter as well, and the right to hold the throne in the future, couldn’t be fathomed. But what they didn’t know was that the murderer of their son was engaged to their daughter and set to be the future King of Wales, if all continued to go according to his plan.

Please provide two or more connection ideas for your character:

The Betrothed: This is the man who is set to marry Alys, but is the same man that murdered her brother in cold blood and managed to cover it up. He’s conniving, sly, outgoing, and charming. She secretly despises him and isn’t afraid to put him in his place, when he acts unruly. Neither one of these people are in this relationship for love, though she genuinely tries, despite how difficult he can be. She has no idea that he is the one who murdered Alwyn, and he plans on keeping that way no matter what lengths he has to go to.

The Crown Prince’s Widow: After Alwyn’s death, his betrothed was left a widow. Aside from her brother, Alys considered the woman a best friend. While Alys hasn’t been able to fully mourn her brother’s death, she has been able to talk and share her feelings with his widow; a woman who was also sent to Khatanga out of fear for her safety.

The One True Love: Since being forced into a relationship with her betrothed at a rather early age, Alys hasn’t gotten the opportunity to experience real love. She has tried her hardest to love the man she is supposed to, but she just doesn’t feel the way her parents and everyone else expects her to. It’s a dangerous game to play, but it’s the first time she’s ever felt such a thrill and longing for something so wrong.

Please answer the following questions IC:

What is one thing you are proud of/love about your country?

“I love the landscape. Being out in nature has always been an escape for me. It’s where I can think. Where I am most free. I am going to greatly miss it, as I hear Khatanga is a very flat, and at times, gray land. But as long as there are horses to ride and a place outdoors that I can escape to and call my own, I suppose it will suffice.”

What is the most important thing in your suitcase?

“A rather worn out copy of Little Women that my late brother gifted to me. He always encouraged and supported me. Noticed me, even when I thought he didn’t. He knew how hard this life we were born into was for me, and he always told me to follow my dreams and to trust my instincts. Everytime I read the story of Jo March, I think of him and how much he believed in me.”

Who and/or what will you miss most from home?

“My sweet Corgi, Dylan. I received him after Alwyn passed, and he’s kept me company and been my support. I will, of course, miss my parents. While my brother was the apple of their eye, I know they love me dearly, as I do them. And my betrothed. I’ve word that he should be arriving any day.”

#claire foy #royal rp #mature rp #oc rp #established rp #royal #alys tudor #accepted

[adaijasenglishlitblog]

TEN VERY INTERESTING NOVELS

The Girl on the Train

Rachel catches the same commuter train every morning. She knows it will wait at the same signal each time, overlooking a row of back gardens. She’s even started to feel like she knows the people who live in one of the houses. “Jess and Jason,” she calls them. Their life—as she sees it—is perfect.

The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman Sussex, England. A middle-aged man returns to his childhood home to attend a funeral. Although the house he lived in is long gone, he is drawn to the farm at the end of the road, where, when he was seven, he encountered a most remarkable girl, Lettie Hempstock, and her mother and grandmother. He hasn't thought of Lettie in decades, and yet as he sits by the pond (a pond that she'd claimed was an ocean) behind the ramshackle old farmhouse, the unremembered past comes flooding back. And it is a past too strange, too frightening, too dangerous to have happened to anyone, let alone a small boy

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, Francis Scott Fitzgerald The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald's third book, stands as the supreme achievement of his career. This exemplary novel of the Jazz Age has been acclaimed by generations of readers. The story is of the fabulously wealthy Jay Gatsby and his new love for the beautiful Daisy Buchanan, of lavish parties on Long Island at a time  it is an exquisitely crafted tale of America in the 1920s.

Before I Go to Sleep by S.J. Watson Christine wakes up every morning in an unfamiliar bed with an unfamiliar man. She looks in the mirror and sees an unfamiliar, middle-aged face. And every morning, the man she has woken up with must explain that he is Ben, he is her husband, she is forty-seven years old, and a terrible accident two decades earlier decimated her ability to form new memories.

Middlemarch (George Eliot, 1874) Middlemarch won this BBC Culture poll by a landslide: 42% of the critics polled included it in their lists. Why? “The quality of its writing and its depth of insight into character and relationships,” writes Morris Dickstein (author, Dancing in the Dark). “Eliot's ability to move from beautifully etched emotional detail to the epic sweep of social change is still breathtaking,” writes Fintan O’Toole (The Irish Times). The Wall Street Journal’s Sam Sacks calls Middlemarch “the greatest social and psychological novel ever written in English.” “Middlemarch combines a massive solid structure with the most radical doubts about the very nature of that structure,” writes Michael Gorra (author, Portrait of a Novel).“A novel of great characters, it's an even greater novel of ideas and ideals,” The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks Set amid the austere beauty of the North Carolina coast begins the story of Noah Calhoun, a rural Southerner recently returned from the Second World War. Noah is restoring a plantation home to its former glory, and he is haunted by images of the beautiful girl he met fourteen years earlier, a girl he loved like no other. Unable to find her, yet unwilling to forget the summer they spent together, Noah is content to live with only memories...until she unexpectedly returns to his town to see him once again.

Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn On a warm summer morning in North Carthage, Missouri, it is Nick and Amy Dunne’s fifth wedding anniversary. Presents are being wrapped and reservations are being made when Nick’s clever and beautiful wife disappears from their rented McMansion on the Mississippi River. Husband-of-the-Year Nick isn’t doing himself any favors with cringe-worthy daydreams about the slope and shape of his wife’s head, but passages from Amy's diary reveal the alpha-girl perfectionist could have put anyone dangerously on edge. Under mounting pressure from the police and the media—as well as Amy’s fiercely doting parents—the town golden boy parades an endless series of lies, deceits, and inappropriate behavior. Nick is oddly evasive, and he’s definitely bitter—but is he really a killer?

And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie First, there were ten—a curious assortment of strangers summoned as weekend guests to a little private island off the coast of Devon. Their host, an eccentric millionaire unknown to all of them, is nowhere to be found. All that the guests have in common is a wicked past they're unwilling to reveal—and a secret that will seal their fate. For each has been marked for murder. A famous nursery rhyme is framed and hung in every room of the mansion

The Good Soldier (Ford Madox Ford, 1915)

A visionary impressionistic work, The Good Soldier opens simply, with a comment by Edward Dowell, the distinctly unreliable American narrator – “This is the saddest story I have ever heard” – and evolves into the story of unfaithful couples, multiple divorces, deaths, suicides and madness. As a Ford friend once put it, The Good Soldier is "the finest French novel in the English language''. “Captures adultery, heartbreak, stoic grace in tones that resemble an (extremely) Anglo-Saxon Flaubert,” writes Paul Wilner (Zyzzyva). “With stylistically exquisite technique, Ford obliquely penetrates his character’s psychologies, moral failures, and the era’s anguish,” writes Ron Slate (On the Seawall).

Jane Eyre (Charlotte Brontë, 1847)

“Brontë’s revolutionary 1847 Gothic romance about a young woman seeking a richer and more passionate life on her own terms still resonates with modern readers,” writes Wilda Williams (Library Journal). “Plus it’s a damn good story that one never tires of rereading.” Brontë’s novel features the orphan Jane Eyre’s search for an identity, her powerful attraction to her master at Thornfield Hall, Mr Rochester, and an intimate description of her complex moral choices and sometimes raw emotional states (“women feel just as men feel”).

[katherinewilliams221b]

I'm going to shoot some soldifying Qs at you as well, t'was my main intention to lure you on for a reblog at least 😂 Please choose anyone you feel like, Kate or Charlie or both...1 (bc K's father gives me some kinda vibes), 4 (bc BOTH grandpas are so different, and also her parents...), 5&6 (your Charlie??), 24 (!), 32 and 35. And 41 to cap it off. I'd ask every single one of them, so sorry abt it 🙏

Aaaaaaaa okay, okay, here it is! I've been out of business for a while, taking exams and such. Uni takes all my strength away. Thank you for asking💜💜💜😍 and OF COURSE I'm going to make you participate in every ask possible 😌🤷‍♀️😍

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1. How does your character think of their father? What do they hate and love about him? What influence - literal or imagined - did the father have?

Joseph Williams is an interesting piece; he is the youngest son of Nicholas and Aurora Williams (for another conversation). He has two siblings: Evira (stop calling her Elvira or else), the oldest, and Erick, in the middle. He was raised in a typical purist family and it’s a miracle that he didn’t turn out like his father and grandfather.

The loss of Jacob shook him to the core, but his stoic demeanour never showed it. This is something that Kate demands of him, that he could show a little more emotion or at least share his opinions. The man just talks with facts.

Another thing that truly exasperates Kate is the fact that, seemingly, he doesn’t stand up to his father. What she doesn’t know, but will learn later in her life, is that her father is the only one of the three siblings that broke a lot, if not every, rule his father had. One of them: marrying a girl with mixed blood. Nicholas is a man with a plan, probably having a member of his blood in every important position that could exist. Kate’s father probably wouldn’t have chosen a Ministry career, but at the time, he thought he didn’t have much of a choice when he found out that his father arranged it all. He insisted in dragging Jacob and Kate along, both refusing fervently and, when his father started arranging their lives, he finally put an end to the situation. This made him somewhat of an outcast, no one messes with Nicholas Williams. He is a truly terrifying man. Although aware of her grandfather’s severity, Kate didn’t know he had made plans for her and that her father was opposed to the idea.

He is hard-working, tenacious and has a way with words that help him in his job (He works at Dpt. International Magical cooperation) and that Kate also admires. She knows that you must be very careful if you talk to him, for he could be manipulative if that makes him accomplish a purpose.

Probably the most interesting thing that Kate could have learnt from him is crisis management (see #35 for more info). She does not agree with his “the end justifies the means” policy that was the cause of many arguments, but she tries to be more pragmatic and keep a cool head when a new problem arises.

4. What type of discipline was your character subjected to at home? Strict? Lenient?

5. Were they overprotected as a child? Sheltered?

6. Did they feel rejection or affection as a child?

(I felt like these were together)

Kate was homeschooled before Hogwarts. Numerous tutors with the best qualifications were selected to prepare Jacob and Kate for school.

Jacob described the process as 'unnecessarily tough and strict', not very keen to rules, Jacob used to skip classes and wander around the grounds of the house.

Both siblings were extraordinarily brilliant and it was reflected in their studies, nevertheless, little Katie showed interest in learning new things, unlike her brother. Their schooling never included anything that had to do with learning magic. They were instructed in basic math, english, french (Kate doesn't remember much of it), music, biology and introduction to what muggles would call botanics. Kate was supposed to learn piano, but they had trouble finding a good teacher that was willing to go to the house. It is a bit scary.

There were strict rules that Kate had to follow; her grandparents respective studios were forbidden as well as the kitchen and the guest area and Kate never dared to go to the basement. Her room was situated on the far end of the house and although it had a decent size it lacked personality, it was just decorated with dark colours that suited the house but not her.

The remain space for living was the grounds of the place, big enough to explore at leisure and maybe find a hidden spot to spend the afternoon. Usually the siblings were allowed to disappear for hours without a word if that meant that they didn't annoy the family or the guests.

Kate remembers her only contact with magic before Hogwarts days, happening two times a week, when she was brought to Diagon Alley to play.

Kate remembers a lonely but happy childhood. Her parents lived in the house as well, petition of her father, that wanted to protect her half blood wife, Natalia. He used all the family name power to shelter her and her parents (Natalia's mother was a muggle and at the time, Voldemort killed and tortured muggles, probably half bloods and as well as blood traitors). The name of the family was never questioned because of all the influence they had in the Ministry, but the chances of a visit to her  grandparents were limited and very controlled.

She does not blame her parents for being away all the time, or her grandparents for ignoring her. She was happy just learning, playing and exploring.

24. What social groups and activities does your character attend? What role do they like to play? What role do they actually play, usually?

-At Hogwarts, Kate participated in the Hogwarts gobstones club and she was very much like her grandfather Bernard when he plays chess. She rarely lost a game and she was known for her lack of compassion when playing. She quit after Hogwarts and its unusual to see her play.

- At the same time, she was a member of the Duelling Club, where she excelled. Flitwick said to Harry Potter that she could be the best duellist of the century. The club dissolved to be re-founded again several years later, but she managed to be one of the leaders for a year. A picture of her hangs in the duelling room.

- Later in her life, she takes French and Spanish classes, the last accompanied by her mother. She is not very fluid with languages but after a while, she starts to enjoy the bonding moments with her mother.

- As a mediwizard, she attends multiple conferences and symposiums, she usually goes as a guest. Later she would participate more actively, giving talks about the importance of international techniques around the world, promoting communication, sharing perspectives and open-minded politics.

Regarding medicine, she founds a small association of healers in St Mungo’s, that teaches basic healing magic and procedures when facing an emergency situation to children, teenagers and also adults.

Kate claims she is not a leader, probably out of modesty or lack of confidence. However, she likes to take the initiative in her projects and she eventually learns how to make herself respected. She finds that, after all, she likes taking the lead.

-Kate and Charlie made an effort to go to dancing classes, to spend some quality time together. Being both very private creatures, they hated it. Not wanting to hurt each other’s feelings they didn’t mention anything about it and kept going to class. After a year they became very elegant, not only in their dancing, but in their stance as well. Needless to say, they are the focus of all stares in whichever event they attend to.

After some years, they would reveal and laugh about how they despised those classes, and how they prefered to dance alone at home. They do not regret it.

32. How does your character react to stress situations? Defensively? Aggressively? Evasively?

Kate is a well balanced combination of all three.

If one thinks about stress because of work or studies, she doesn’t fear hard work she is very assertive with her goals.

While working for the Order, she was forced to face whoever wanted to hurt her, ad although she prefers the ‘run’ option, she knows how to stand and fight if necessary. While duelling, she prefers defense spells, which give her time to know her opponent and think of a strategy according to them.

Arguing with her can be difficult and oftentimes it ends in both parts hurt. She matures considerably in that aspect and learns that some things, even if they are true, are better left unsaid.

35. Do they always rationalize errors? How do they accept disasters and failures?

Kate’s father had a lot to do with her discipline in front of failure. He feared that her grandfather’s hard education would make Kate afraid of taking the wrong direction or ever scared of making decisions Through the years he taught her how to face mistakes, work around them and accept that one can’t change the past. Easier said than done, she is only human, and from time to time she needs reassurance that she is doing the right thing. She knows that she can count on her friends to help her fix any errors and give her support when needed.

This chances the day she loses a patient for the first time, and she has to reorganize her thoughts. It was a very philosophical and exhausting day.

41. Is your character aware of who they are? Strengths? Weaknesses? Idiosyncrasies? Capable of self-irony?

She knows perfectly who she is, thanks to long talks with Charlie about everything. She is not afraid to change an opinion if she realizes she is wrong. Kate’s way of living is an state of evolutiotion; she is not only hungry for academic knowledge, she likes to discover herself and others everyday. Talking with Charlie is somewhat therapeutic and she values how he is patient enough with her to participate in those deep conversations she loves to get lost into.

She is not scared to be herself because she knows that to be loved for who you are is more precious than pretending to be someone smarter, fancier or cooler.

Bill, Tonks and Charlie like to pick on her, of course without malice, because they enjoy the friendly banter that always follows.

#i think i could refine my answers a littke bit #but this is what i have for the moment #hphm #worldbuilding #mc #charlie weasley x mc

[miridiums-writing]

Ok I ship you with WILLIAM T SPEARS

let me explain.

If im honest to begin with I was like ciel all the way but WILLIAM suits (haha book of circus) really well

He is a man who is straigh to the point all the time

You bring spice with that little bit of chaos

Will may not realize it but its exactly what he needs to bring that stick out his ass

Your mum energy is much needed when it comes to dealing with Grell

Like you gotta show your place

And be like a mother figure to her

Grell needs guidance

Fight me

Will would be attracted to your caring nature

If its not already obvious the man is very closed off

People + Will = not today folks

Same Will same

Your chaotic nature would irk him to begin with

But with time he would find it almost endearing

Almost

He still hates overtime

But with how uptight he is your nature may help him loosen off a bit

And he definelty needs that after a long day

With your nature you would probably try to help Ciel at some point

Although he knows its a lost cause, he find it wonderful how you still try to bring those walls down

Again and again with complete determination

The same dedication he has to NOT GETTING OVERTIME

he would love your glasses

Even though he is literally surrounded by people with glasses everyday you are special

Totally could see you jokingly stealing his glasses and him looking slightly confused as you try to put yours on him

He would be smiling though

On the inside

Unless its far in the relationship

Then the stoic man beings to emote

He likes your style too

His is very proper and to the point

But something that looks edgy and pleasing

Sign him the fuck up

Only because its you though

Your personality drew him to you but your style was something he found along the way

He would be off doing a job and maybe would see little twinkling lights around a room and would instantly think of your style.

He would guide you through any moments you do a dumb

#relatablequeenhere

Cause same honey

But he would make sure you dont take it too far

Suddenly get the dumb idea to slide through the halls after covering them with soap to make a water slide

He is in the background with a first aid kit

Just in case

If you took it too far he wouldn't hesitate to pick you up

Bonus since you are so small

He may jokingly use you as an arm rest every once in a while when he is in a joking mood

But looking down on your small figure makes him want to protect you

He turns into a mother himself in a way

Your rubbing off on him

He may go soft 😨

We all know that Grell forced him to act as a mother figure a while ago

You never fail to bring a smile to his face

Whether you made a silly face

Did something silly

Cared for someone even if they were determind to not recieve help

If you came up with a reckless idea

Or just smiled

His day would be better

Help him get through all that DAMN PAPERWORK

He would be interested in you ethnicity as all good boyfriends should

He may ask questions though he is more likely to do research on his own and show off later

Both of you being like the mother power couple

Cant repeat this enough but

PARENTS OF GRELL

You two try to keep her out of trouble

Though this may include shopping trips with her

Will in the background carrying all the bags and grumbling about the fact Grell stole his girlfriend again

He may not have a good grasp at truly being open and showing that he would care

But he is trying

Bare with him

He would make sure your glasses are kept clean

Smudges are the worst

I know from experience

This isnt about me ill shut up

He would also leave a note every morning he went to work that he looks forward to coming home to you

Though may also leave a tip on if Grell may or may not make an appearance so to be ready for her

I think Will would be a good partner

His stoic personality bouncing off your radiance perfectly

He would be watching from the sidelines if someone tried to take advantage of that kindness

He wouldnt dare kill anyone

But this man can be scary so beware.

You would both finish the day by falling asleep in each others embrace with his stroking you soft hair

Cause it relaxes him

And head scratches are the best

He would be the type to treat you like a queen too

Because you are

Fight me

All woman are queens

Yes Will

That include Grell

She is my sweet queen too

Ill finish rambling but I hope you like it

This went in weird directions I didnt mean for it to go but hey

What did you expect?