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clov3sr · 1 year

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Wholly | j. bellingham

. a/a — I. love. the. idea. of. mean. couples. Like oh my fucking. BRO.

. c/t w(s) — fem!reader, little spicy nothing crazy chill out, very haphazardly proofread so no promises

. ♫ — make me better; Fabolous, Ne-Yo

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ 2:22 ─────ㅇ─── 4:13

—— "the right when I'm wrong, so I never slip; show me how to move, that's why I never trip."

𓆩♱𓆪 THE BAR WAS crowded, riddled with drunk patrons attempting to flag down the bartenders. Jude much preferred the solitude of his private section, but from the bar he could watch you tap the pads of your fingers against your exposed thigh, teasingly looking down at him with that sly smirk that he's beyond proud to say came from him. He's used to hearing dire threats of a man's ego mutilating into fatal hubris, but he can't relate it to being your man; There can only be good that stems from knowing he's the only one who gets to inch his hand up your little dress, dragging his teeth across the sensitive skin of your neck. He's the only one who knows how much more overwhelmingly intoxicating your perfume is compared to the drinks he's getting for the two of you. and you're the only one who gets to scratch lightly at the base of his neck and grip his bicep, a warning of your very public location. There's not much else he can say looks as good on you as pure confidence and trust in him.

So much trust that when girls inevitably approach him, he watches as that coy smile widens eagerly, and his eyes don't — can't — leave yours.

He wholly belongs to you.

The hand that slaps his own is rougher than the usual groupies because it's not one. Instead, he glances momentarily to see another man leaning back against the bar counter with him, one who's not even looking at Jude, but straight upwards at you.

"Pretty as hell," is all he leadingly mumbles, and Jude scoffs a bit in annoyance, but it's lost on the former male.

"Yep." He spits in response. Your eyebrows lower slightly in confused amusement. Jude tilts his head up disapprovingly and shakes his head slowly; he adores the silent communication the two of you have developed naturally.

"What're the chances I can bag that?" the anonymous male chuckles, and Jude can feel the thin thread of his patience shearing by the millisecond.

"Zero."

This earns him an entertained grin, and Jude wants to throw his head back in exasperation right then and there. He's heard enough of your stories to know where this is going,

"That a challenge, man?"

It's so infuriating that he can't disprove you when you proclaim that men are trash.

"It was not." His eyes are still on yours, and by the way they degrade in brilliance with every word, you can tell he's not enjoying whatever conversation he's having. Unlike Jude, you find it extremely amusing, covering your mouth as you giggle. His expression is always so telling, and this guy is apparently so dense that he can't tell. That, or it's because the stranger's eyes haven't left you either, so he probably just hasn't seen it yet.

"Dressed like that? All alone in a section? Those types are easy. Just need a bit of attention."

Jude can feel the familiar heat of boiling anger bubble in his chest, but he quells it just barely. He could make his PR team hate their job tonight, but he won't be able to stop himself from rolling his eyes if he has to hear Hendo's fatherly scolding about it. He won't act in the way he desperately wants to, but he does need this guy to shut the hell up immediately.

"She's a woman, not a rescue dog. Watch your fucking mouth."

The man looks over in offense, obviously just now realizing that Jude is not the random bonding type of guy. He shakes his head, as if deciding to let Jude off easy, and pushes himself off the counter. While he begins to strut over to your section, he fixes his posture and pulls his shirt down in an attempt to neaten it.

Just after he takes his leave, the bartender makes it to Jude with a hurried apology, which he assures is unnecessary, and asks for the bottle you both prefer. Two in hand, he's seconds behind the stranger on the way toward you.

"Hello, beautiful."

The prior playfulness that you wore on your face was immediately infected with aversion, your eyes finally leaving Jude to look up at the guy standing over you. Oh, he doesn't know. Shame.

"Hi?" you pull your crossed legs in towards yourself, tilting your body direction anywhere but towards him. He won't get the hint, you've been through too many situations like this to believe he will, but it still makes you feel slightly less revolted regardless.

"You're too hot to be sittin' up here alone, yeah?" He's slurring his words, and you're sure if you were closer you could smell the stench of alcohol and cheap cologne, but the thought of being that close makes you shudder uncomfortably. To your satisfaction, you see Jude emerge with your favorite drink in both hands, and he provokingly sits them on the glass table with a purposeful clink.

"Hmm," your fingertip taps your bottom lip ironically, and for a brief second, you wonder where this side of you came from. There is just something about Jude's conviction that you're his that makes any attempt at you criminally insolent. You'll make sure anybody who tries to get at you or Jude, and everybody around them, know never to try moronic shit like this again, "I am, aren't I?"

Jude frustratingly collapses at your side, practically on top of you, and automatically resumes his position kissing fervidly down your jawline. Occasionally, he'll spend longer on a particular spot, accompanying it with a taunting squeeze of his large hand around your smooth thigh, even as it inches farther up by the second. He's still aware enough, however, to allow you to lean forward a little and grab the neck of your bottle and your glass. He smiles for the first time since this altercation when he hears your breath hitch in pleasure, legs tensing slightly in seek of friction.

As you somehow manage to pour the drink into your glass without spilling it, your eyes dart back up coldly to the man who's still standing there like a deer in headlights. You almost feel bad, but Jude's fingers begin digging into your thigh again, and any mercy you had is stripped away instantaneously. Maybe he's a bad influence in this way, but it's a thrill you wouldn't give up for anything. Your eyebrows furrow in judgment, your nose scrunching up just to seal the look of pure disgust.

Jude's hand leaves your thigh, and you sigh disappointingly at the loss of warmth and pressure. The displeasure is soon sidelined, though, when that hand flicks twice towards the man, a blatant fuck you, shoo, and then returns to rubbing up and down your side. It's like Jude knows just how to spur you on, how to weed out that twinge of evil that you're sure originates from your mother's side. Right now, you decide you want to reward him for giving you that spirit, reciprocally assure him you wholly belong to him, and it's that conviction that laces your spitting tongue with a ruinous venom,

"Why're you still here, freak?"

. a/pn(s) — Mean. Couples. ahehehaha.

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hayatheauthor · 7 months

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Crafting Authentic Child Characters: From Toddlers to Tweens

When it comes to writing captivating stories, it's not just about the plot or setting—it's about the characters that bring your narrative to life. Among those characters, child characters hold a special place.

Child characters, when done right, can hold a special place in your readers’ hearts. Think of YA series like Harry Potter or Percy Jackson- these books featured eleven and twelve year olds but their captivating tales and realistic characteristics drew us in. However, when done wrong, child characters can often ruin immersion and make readers feel annoyed due to their unrealistic representation.

In this guide, I’ve decided to explore the different pubescent age groups you often see in literature alongside tips to help you craft authentic child characters.

Understanding Toddler Characters

The toddler years—a phase characterized by tiny tots exploring the world with wide-eyed wonder. Writing toddler characters can be a delightful yet challenging task. These pint-sized adventurers, typically aged 1 to 3 years, are bundles of curiosity and emotion.

Characterizing Toddlers

Toddlers are known for their limited communication skills. Their vocabulary might consist of a few words or adorable gibberish. They often express themselves through gestures, facial expressions, and body language. Embracing their simplicity is key when bringing them to life on the page. Toddlers view the world with fresh eyes and uncomplicated hearts, finding joy in the little things like chasing butterflies or playing with bubbles.

Portraying Toddler Dialogue

When writing dialogue for toddler characters, simplicity is the name of the game. Toddler speech is basic and straightforward, often composed of short sentences or one-word responses. Capturing their enthusiasm is essential. Toddlers can be highly expressive, so use exclamation marks and enthusiastic language to convey their excitement. It's all about experiencing life's wonders, one small step at a time.

Writing toddler characters offers an opportunity to explore the world through innocent eyes and infuse your story with their unique brand of wonder and emotion.

Toddlers In Flashbacks

I would like to quickly mention that people don’t retain most of their memories from their toddler years, so if you’re trying to create a plot point surrounding a situation your character witnessed as a toddler it is important to consider whether a child that age would realistically even remember such an event.

Capturing the Essence of Children (4-7 years)

Children aged 4-7 are often brimming with creativity, curiosity, and a penchant for storytelling. Think back to times when you used to mix up shampoos in the bathroom to make ‘potions’ or create weirdly intricate plots for your ‘house’ games.

Characterizing Young Children

At this stage, children are developing rapidly, both physically and cognitively. They have an eagerness to understand the world around them, which often leads to a vivid imagination. Their capacity to believe in the extraordinary—whether it's magical creatures, talking animals, or hidden treasures—creates a wonderful opportunity for storytelling.

Young children are naturally curious and possess a boundless well of energy. Their interests can be diverse, ranging from dinosaurs and superheroes to fairies and space exploration. To capture their essence:

Highlighting Imaginative Play: Young children often engage in elaborate make-believe games. These imaginative adventures can be a goldmine for character development.

Embracing Curiosity: Encourage their inquisitiveness about the world. Show characters asking questions, seeking answers, and discovering new things.

Crafting Dialogues and Actions

When crafting dialogues and actions for children aged 4 to 7, it's important to consider their evolving language skills. Unlike toddlers, who may struggle with pronunciation, characters in this age group can typically speak properly. This means they won't say "sowwy" for "sorry" or "wuv" for "love."

Embracing Storytelling: Children this age love to narrate their adventures and dreams. Use storytelling within your story to reflect their imaginative nature.

Curious Questioning: Show characters exploring, asking "why," and expressing wide-eyed wonder. Utilize their questions and observations to drive the plot or reveal new information.

Navigating the World of Pre-Teens (8-12 years)

Many captivating young adult series begin with characters in their pre-teen years, allowing readers to witness their growth and development throughout the books. This is because writing characters in this age group, typically aged 8 to 12, offers a unique exploration of budding independence and the influence of peer relationships.

Your characters are no longer seen as little kids but at the same time don’t have the freedom associated with adolescence.

Characterizing Pre-Teens

Pre-teen characters are in the process of discovering their identity. They're developing a sense of self and often begin to assert their independence from parents or caregivers. While their childlike innocence remains, they're also exposed to a wider range of experiences and emotions.

These characters may show an increased interest in friendships, hobbies, and their expanding world. To capture the essence of pre-teens:

Embrace Growing Independence: Pre-teens may want more autonomy in decision-making. Explore their budding independence as they take small steps toward self-reliance.

Peer Relationships: Friendships become more critical during this stage. Show characters navigating the challenges and joys of making and maintaining friendships.

Crafting Dialogues and Actions

When crafting dialogues and actions for pre-teen characters, consider their evolving perspectives and emerging voices:

Balancing Childlike Wonder: While they're growing up, pre-teens still retain their childlike curiosity and wonder. Don't shy away from showcasing these traits.

Beginning Adolescence: Pre-teens may start experiencing pre-adolescent changes. This could include minor mood swings, increased self-awareness, and curiosity about the world's complexities.

Tweens: Balancing Innocence and Growing Up (13-14 years)

As we move forward into the world of tweens, we encounter characters aged 13 to 14—the age where innocence meets the beginnings of adolescence. Crafting characters in this age group offers an exciting opportunity to explore the challenges and interests of this transitional stage.

Characterizing Tweens

Tweens are on the cusp of adolescence, and their experiences reflect this delicate balance between childhood and growing up. They're often navigating the complexities of middle school, peer dynamics, and a burgeoning sense of self.

Tweens may still possess a childlike wonder, but they're increasingly exposed to more mature themes. To capture the essence of tweens:

Emerging Independence: Tweens may desire more autonomy and may challenge authority figures as they assert their individuality.

Peer Influence: Friendships take on even greater significance. Characters in this age group may grapple with peer pressure and the need to fit in.

Crafting Dialogues and Actions

When crafting dialogues and actions for tween characters, consider the delicate balance they strike:

Retaining Childlike Charm: Tweens often have endearing quirks and moments of innocence. Don't lose sight of these traits.

Exploring Pre-Adolescence: As they begin to encounter the complexities of growing up, characters in this age group may exhibit curiosity about more mature topics while still experiencing occasional moments of youthful naivety.

Writing tween characters allows for a captivating exploration of the liminal space between childhood and adolescence, where they teeter on the brink of exciting self-discovery.

Creating Memorable Child Characters

Now that we've explored the unique characteristics and development stages of child characters, it's time to discuss how to craft memorable and well-rounded child characters, regardless of their age.

Developing Distinct Personalities

Each child character you create should have a distinct personality, just like any adult character. Think about their likes, dislikes, fears, and dreams. Are they adventurous, introverted, mischievous, or kind-hearted? Consider how their personalities align with their age group.

Character Growth and Development

While child characters start with a certain set of traits, they should also experience growth and change throughout your story. Whether it's learning important life lessons or maturing in their outlook, character arcs are just as relevant for children as they are for adults.

Examples from Literature

To better understand how to create memorable child characters, let's turn to some examples from literature. Take, for instance, Scout Finch from "To Kill a Mockingbird" by Harper Lee. She's curious, brave, and compassionate, making her a beloved child character who evolves throughout the novel.

Or consider the character of Matilda from Roald Dahl's "Matilda." She's an exceptionally bright and resilient child character who learns to harness her unique abilities.

These examples show how well-crafted child characters can leave a lasting impact on readers.

Crafting Authentic Child Dialogue: Dos and Don'ts

Writing dialogue for child characters can be both challenging and rewarding. It's important to strike the right balance between authenticity and readability. Here are some dos and don'ts to keep in mind:

Dos:

Capture Their Perspective: Remember that children see the world differently. Describe events and surroundings through their eyes. Use simple language when necessary to reflect their understanding.

Embrace Authenticity: Children may use slang, colloquialisms, or unique phrases. Incorporate these sparingly to add authenticity to their speech.

Show Growth: As your child characters mature throughout the story, their speech should evolve too. Gradually introduce more complex vocabulary and sentence structures.

Reflect Emotions: Children express emotions openly. Use dialogue to convey their feelings, whether it's unbridled enthusiasm, innocent curiosity, or the occasional temper tantrum.

Don'ts:

Avoid Stereotypes: While children may display certain traits based on their age, avoid falling into clichéd stereotypes. Each child is unique, so give your characters depth beyond typical traits.

Steer Clear of Exaggeration: While child characters can be quirky and funny, be cautious not to make their dialogue overly cute or exaggerated, which can become grating to readers.

Limit 'Baby Talk': Especially for older child characters, avoid excessive use of baby talk or mispronunciations unless it's essential to the story.

Don't Oversimplify: While simplicity is key, don't underestimate your young readers. Children can understand complex emotions and ideas if presented in a relatable way.

By keeping these dos and don'ts in mind, you can create dialogue that feels authentic, engages young readers, and adds depth to your child characters.

Crafting authentic child characters can be a fulfilling journey for writers. Whether you're depicting the innocence of a toddler, the imaginative spirit of a young child, the evolving personality of a tween, or the budding independence of a pre-teen, these characters can add depth and heart to your stories.

Remember, each child character is a unique individual with their own quirks, dreams, and potential for growth.

I hope this blog on Crafting Authentic Child Characters: From Toddlers to Tweens will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks?

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and publishing tips for authors every Monday and Thursday! And don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey!

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staywhore · 4 months

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countdown to midnight

felix x reader

word count: 2009

genre: smut with a hint of angst?! (my first attempt so be nice)

warnings: friends to lovers, hot hot hot takeout sesh, biting, slight angst if you can call it that.

an: sorry there's not a lot here! this is part one of two so look forward to the next update to see what happens (eye emoji) I hope everyone had an amazing new year! I love you all, thank you so much for supporting me this past year despite my hiatus.

taglist: @mingigoo @ravenjoongie @wickeddarkness-place @whatudowhennooneseesyou @teezers99 @mirror-juliet

new years confession part one click here for part two

You ducked fast as a mis-shapen ball of snow is hurled towards your head. A pang of adrenalin strikes right through your heart despite the fact that there now is a small smile pulling at the corner of your mouth. You clutch the ball of snow in your beige mitten and prepare to throw it back at your attacker. Risking a quick look you see that he has his back turned to you and you take your chance to make your move. You quickly stand and throw the snowball with as much force as you can muster to ensure it makes its mark. Watching as the non lethal projectile flies across the imagined battlefield, you see as it connects with the neck of your blonde attacker. His head moves forward with impact, causing him to look as though he’s bowing.

He turns to you with a shocked look on your face. The laughter fills your mind until you can’t help but fold as it erupts from you. With tears now in your eyes and the look on his face on loop in your mind, you don’t notice that the man is now running towards you. You look up right before he makes contact with you. His arms wrapping around your waist lifting you up slightly before you feel yourself falling backwards. You can’t help but let out a little scream at the feeling of falling. He tackles you into a pile of snow that previously was your attempt at a snowman before the snowball fight ensued.

“How does it feel to lose to a girl?” You say a little out of breath from the adrenalin still pumping rapidly throughout your body. You can’t help but smile as you look up and see a matching grin paired with that oh-so-familiar sparkle of mischief in his deep brown eyes. The former flicks back and forth a few times from your eyes to your mouth. He just lets out a short throaty laugh as a response.

“Are you going to let me get up?” You say, starting to feel the weight of his stare. His hand reaches out and he brushes some snowflakes that are collecting on your eyelashes.

Felix has been your friend for three years now. You’ve stayed friends through drunken calls, colds, and breakups. Of course you’ve noticed his impeccable beauty. His deep brown eyes that glow in the sunlight giving the illusion of having dark chocolate for irises. The freckles that are splattered across his nose, cheeks, and a few on his forehead; it’s as if an artist took his brush and placed each one specifically. His full pink lips that you have only ever seen turned down in frustration or anger a handful of times. He is the image of beauty to you. Yet in these past two, nearly three, years you never let your feelings manifest into anything stronger. You’ve seen the girls he has dated, you look nothing like them. So you keep your love for him platonic, and lock up anything less deep within your heart.

His gentle touch threatens to bring your bubbling feelings to the surface. The soft material of his gloved fingers moved from your closed eyes onto your cheeks, that are no longer flushed because of the cold. Sometimes you think he’s looking at you as more than a friend, but the thought leaves you quickly. Despite what happened a year ago.

“I’m quite comfortable actually.” The corner of his lips turn up in challenge to your question.

It was New Years Eve, everyone was drinking and having a good time playing games and sharing stories. Felix had not left you alone for the entirety of the evening, not that that was unusual. Usually you stick to each other’s side, but something was different. If you stepped out of arm's reach of him you could feel his stare following you throughout the apartment. Eventually you decided to ask what the fuck is up.

You pulled him off to one of the two bathrooms in yours and your friends shared apartment. It just happened to be the smaller of the two, just enough room for a sink, toilet, and a small shower encased by frosted glass. Not totally realizing that we are now nearly chest to chest as you look up to him to confront him.

“What’s wrong with you tonight?” You say a little too loud, noting to lower your volume from now on.

“Nothing’s wrong y/n.” He says without looking at you. Seemingly focused on a very interesting spot on the wall no doubt.

“Bull shit Felix.” Attempting to cross your arms at your chest, but can’t successfully without touching him. It feels weird to touch him tonight. You can’t figure out why. “You have been acting strange all evening.” You settle with placing your hands on your hips.

After a few beats of silence Felix finally looks at you. He seems to be searching for something in your face. His chocolate eyes flicking to the different parts of your face. An unspoken emotion hanging in the air between the two of us. Maybe it’s the seclusion, or maybe it’s the drinks finally working their way into your system, but tonight he looks different. Your eyes dared a look at his lips, quickly looking back up to his eyes. His pupils dilated.

“Felix..” Now he looked at your lips as you spoke, but he wasn’t quick to look away like you were. He leaned forward causing you to step back hitting the wall. “What is wr-” He cuts you off with a finger shushing your lips.

“Y/n, I know you feel it two.” You could feel yourself pale.

“I don’t know what you are talking about Felix.”

“I know this is sudden y/n, maybe it’s the alcohol or the fact that it’s new years eve, but I want to kiss you tonight.. I want you and I don’t wanna hide it anymore.” His hands found their way to your face, tilting it back slightly. Your mouth was suddenly dry and eyes wide at the confession.

“But.. I- I didn’t think I was your type?” You barely manage to get your words out.

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life y/n.” Past the pounding of your heart echoing in your ears you can hear your friends call for you.

“It’s nearly midnight.” Your response to his second confession.

“I know y/n.” He continues to stare down at you. Trapping you against the cool wall and his hard body. “I’d like to kiss you if you’ll let me.”

Mind racing. You swear he could hear your heart beating. Your eyes roamed over his face, looking for any sign of deception. You could hear your friends starting their count down into the new year.

"10"

"9"

"8"

"7"

"6"

"5"

"4"

"3"

“Kiss me felix.” His lips crashed onto yours as your friends finished counting down, and cheered as they rang the new year in. Hands found their way into your hair, pulling slightly, causing you to gasp. He took his chance to kiss you deeper. Felix consumed you wholly. His tongue explored your mouth as he continued to deepen the kiss. His hands roaming further down your body. They moved from your hair to your neck, then shoulders, and smoothed down your back softly causing you to shiver. Your own found their way to his shaggy blonde hair.

Finally snapping from your stupor you tug at his locks softly. He moans into your mouth, sending a bolt of arousal directly to your core. So you pull harder. This time he growls as his grip on your ass tightens. He spins the two of you around so your back is now to the sink, lifting you, you now are sitting on the lip of the sink; wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer. His hand slid from your ass to your waist, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. A silent request for permission, you respond by taking your nails to his broad shoulders and running them along his clothed skin. Cool fingertips slid up your skin sending goosebumps to your arms. The further north his hands went, the deeper your nails dug into his shoulders.

He breaks away from the kiss to look into your eyes. His own half lidded with arousal looking at your lips that are no doubt plumped and a deeper shade of pink from the kiss. He lets out a deep breath before he leans in to kiss you gently. Staring at your lips then going to your nose and forehead. Moving to your neck where he places pepperings of kisses that once again cause you to shiver. All while his fingers are running along your rib cage, and just under the fabric of your bra. As his hands move up taking the silky material of your shirt with him he bites your earlobe.

Pulling your shirt over your head he leans back slightly to take a full look at you. Chest heaving and knuckles gone white from the grip you have on the sink. One hand goes to your neck to pull you back into a deep kiss. His lips run down your neck this time he’s not so gentle. He leaves bite marks in his wake. Each time he sucks your skin you let out a little moan, and the next time he sucks a little harder. He does the same thing to your chest. Teasing you as he plays with the edge of our bra, not quite going underneath the fabric.

“Please Felix.” You say breathlessly. He obeys and reaches behind to unhook your bra. The feel of it sliding against your skin only heightens your arousal. Without hesitation he takes one of your nipples into your mouth and sucks it. It was a struggle to not scream at the sensation.

“F-felix.. Fuck.” You moan as he releases the first with a pop and moves to the second. Your hands find their way to his head once more, tugging as he moans around your breast. Your abs begin to burn trying to keep you balanced on the ledge. Releasing the second with a pop he looks up at you, this time with fire in his eyes.

“Y/n…” Right before he can say anything else the handle to the door jiggles, shortly followed by a pounding fist.

“Hey open up! I gotta piss.” Someone who sounds an awful lot like a drunken changbin shouts from the other side of the door. Heat instantly rushes to your face as you push Felix off of you and quickly try to make yourself decent.

“Be right out.” You stammer, frantically searching for your shirt. Seriously, where did that thing go in such a small space! Only stopping when Felix's hands cup your face once more, causing you to look up at him. He looked like he had a lot to say, but he leaned in to kiss you. Flinching back not wanting to seem any more suspicious than you probably already have to the party, you regretted it immediately. The hurt that flashed across his beautiful features stung you.

“Felix.. I didn’t-” He turned away from you picking up your shirt and handed it to you, his silence was deadly. He waited until you readied yourself, tucking you behind him while he opened the door.

Feeling awkward and embarrassed you hid out in your room until the last of your party guests left, feigning a headache. Curled up in your bed scrolling through your phone, when Felix’s name pops onto your screen.

[sorry for tonight y/n] Another ding sounds

[maybe we should just stay friends, go back to the way things were before tonight] it’s almost as if a knife went straight through your heart. With tears in your eyes you begin to reply, but you can’t find any words so you just turn your phone over and quietly cry yourself to sleep.

#skz #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #felix x reader #felix smut #staywhore

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cre8inghavoc · 1 month

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What are friends for?

PT. 6

Status: ongoing!!

Updates: no set date.

WC: 3780

Pairing: megumi fushiguro x FEM!reader

Genre/Warnings:[18+] Characters are aged up. This story contains toxic boyfriend, cursing, name calling, self-doubt/hate, angst, breaking up, post-breakup, alcohol, drug use, drunk moments, new friends, dating!au, college!au, no curses!au, dark humour, dark jokes. SMAU.

RECAP:

"Why..." Your voice trembles with emotion. "Why are you so kind to me? You barely even know me..." you say, feeling a surge of sadness.

He holds your chin gently, tilting your head up to meet his gaze fully. A smirk plays on his lips, sending a shiver down your spine. He's so effortlessly attractive... his gaze alone stirs something deep within you, igniting a rush of desire. If only he knew the effect he has on you...

"And there's a lot you don't know about me, sweetheart."

You start to respond, but before you can utter a word, you watch in pure shock as he slowly brings his hand to his mouth, still locking eyes with you. With deliberate intent, he places your last edible on his tongue and swallows it.

You stare at him, utterly shocked. Trying to wrap your head around his actions and motives becomes a challenge, especially with the haze induced by the drugs clouding your thoughts. Why in the world would he take your last edible?

"Megs... why would you do that?" you ask, your words a bit slurred from the drugs.

"Why would you?" he shoots back, still close, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your cheek, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.

"I... do you even know how strong it is?" you try to divert the conversation, struggling to keep up with his questioning about your own choices.

"Tell me," he urges softly, his gaze now heavy-lidded, a whole new energy flowing from him that sets your pulse racing. It's like he's looking at you with hunger, and before you realize it, you're squirming slightly, trying to ease the sudden heat pooling between your thighs.

"I... it's around 35mg..." you manage to stammer out.

He just hums in response, one knee finding its place on the bed for support as he leans closer, never breaking eye contact. Your heart thumps wildly as he inches closer to you, his eyes flicking between your lips and your eyes, a smirk playing on his lips as he notices your breath hitching.

You can't help but giggle at a sudden idea that pops into your head.

"What's so funny, angel?" he asks, his tone sweet and curious.

"Oh, just a silly thought," you dismiss, feeling a bit embarrassed about the idea.

"Tell me, I want to know," he insists, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Are you sure you want to know?" you tease, flashing him a playful smile.

"Absolutely, angel," he replies with a grin.

"I was just thinking about how our friends were so surprised to see us together earlier... wouldn't it be hilarious if we pranked our friends into thinking we were together? I mean, it's kind of silly, but..." you trail off, chuckling at the absurdity of the idea.

"Let's do it," he says, his smirk growing wider as he continues to stroke your cheek with his thumb.

"Really?" you exclaim, surprised by his response. You hadn't expected him to agree to such a stupid plan, but the idea excites you nonetheless.

"Yeah, it would be funny to see their reactions. So, how do we pull it off?" he asks, watching as your face lights up at his agreement. He can't help but find you utterly adorable.

"Okay, so I was thinking we could take some pictures together, like holding hands or something, and then post them on our Twitter pages. That way, they'll see them in the morning..." you explain, your excitement bubbling over.

"Sounds perfect. Give me your phone," he says.

You hand him your phone, watching as he opens the camera app and then takes your hand in his. Your heart flutters at the touch, and you glance up at him as he snaps the picture. As he focuses intently on capturing the picture, you can't help but feel a rush of warmth coursing through you at the sensation of his touch. It's just for the photos, you remind yourself, but the way his hand feels against yours sends shivers down your spine. Despite knowing it's all part of the prank, his touch alone manages to stir up a rush of emotions within you. Once he's done, he passes the phone back to you, a soft smile on his lips.

"You can post this one. It looks good," he says, still holding your hand.

You open Twitter and upload the photo, with Megumi responding to the tweet to make it seem more believable.

Setting your phone aside, you realize that he's still holding onto your hand, and the realization sends a wave of flustered excitement through you. The intensity of the moment seems to increase with each passing second, and you can sense that he feels it too from the way he's looking at you. His gaze locks onto yours, and you feel a magnetic pull drawing you closer together.

"Think I know another way to make it more believable..." Megumi's voice carries a hint of mischief as he speaks up.

As he leans in, his eyes flicker down to your lips, signalling his intentions, and your heart races in anticipation of what's to come. "Meg-" you start to say, but he leans back from your face, teasing you, and you hate how he's pulling away again. But something inside you snaps. Maybe it's because you’re intoxicated, maybe it's sheer desperation, but you can't hold back any longer. You need it... You need him... So, you grab ahold of his wrist and pull him back over you, his smirk widening. For a brief moment, you lock eyes, both of you breathing heavily, and without hesitation, he crashes his lips onto yours.

Finally... finally, his lips meet yours, and a fierce hunger flares to life within both of you. Fueled by raw desire and longing, you surrender to the intoxicating embrace, every touch, every kiss, a testament to the passion that's been simmering between you.

Suddenly, he bites your bottom lip, drawing a soft moan from you as he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Climbing onto the bed above you, he grasps the back of your neck, deepening the kiss, eliciting another moan from you that causes him to groan in response. It feels as though his body has a mind of its own, perhaps the effects of the weed already kicking in. You find yourself instinctively reaching up to caress his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath beneath your touch. Slowly, your fingers trail down his abs, tempted to tug at the hem of his sweater and pull it off, but you know you shouldn't. Instead, you slip your hand under his sweater, relishing the sensation of his warm, bare skin against your fingertips. You feel his abs tense beneath your touch, revealing the effects you have on him.

Fuck… he's so toned…

The craving for more of him is overwhelming, but you know you shouldn't give in. Reluctantly, you pull away, locking eyes with him once more.

"We shouldn't," you murmur softly.

"Yeah," he agrees, still lost in your gaze.

All you can do is bite your lip and return his gaze, fighting the urge to pull him back in.

Suddenly, he swiftly lifts you up and gently turns you onto the bed, positioning himself beneath you. He situates you on his lap, his hand still on your cheek before trailing down your neck, his thumb grazing your lip before placing his hand around your throat.

"You're just so beautiful," he murmurs, applying gentle pressure, enough to allow you to breathe.

Then, he pulls you in for another kiss, this time even more passionate than before.

Caught off guard, you let out a gasp, unable to contain the rush of emotions coursing through you. It's almost impossible to resist him; he's undeniably attractive, and his presence alone makes you feel like you're on fire. The way he makes you feel special, calling you beautiful and igniting sensations that pulse through your body—it's intoxicating. The thought of him being able to sense just how much he affects you is both thrilling and utterly embarrassing. But in this moment, it's like nothing else matters except the desire that burns between you.

He gently pulls away from your lips, leaving you momentarily confused.

"Give me your phone," he requests suddenly.

"What? Why?" you inquire, puzzled by his sudden request.

"Give it to me, angel," he repeats softly.

You can't help but melt a little at that pet name. You love when he calls you that. Unable to resist, you hand over your phone, watching as he returns to the camera app and snaps a picture of you on top of him.

"What was that for?" you ask, a smile tugging at your lips as you gaze down at him.

He turns the phone to show you the photo.

"You look way too pretty like this," he remarks, and the words alone send a jolt of heat through you. It's as if he has a direct line to your desires, because just hearing him say that makes you feel even more aroused. You swear he must sense it, cause in that moment, his gaze drifts down to your thighs before returning to meet your eyes, a wide grin spreading across his face.

As you glance at the photo on your phone, you can't deny the aesthetic appeal of the scene captured: him beneath you, his hand delicately around your neck. It's undeniably alluring, and you can't help but enjoy this moment more. But beneath the surface, a conflict rages within you, tearing at your heart and clouding your thoughts. On one hand, there's an undeniable attraction pulling you towards him, urging you to give in to the intense desires that swirl between you. Yet, on the other hand, there's a voice of reason cautioning you against rushing into something new, especially when you're still healing from the scars of your past. It's a battle between the longing for his touch and the need to protect yourself no.... to protect him from potential heartache, because of how fucked up you are. Caught in this internal struggle, you find yourself torn between what you want and what you know you should do. You know you crave him, want him more than anything, but the timing feels all wrong. You've just ended a toxic relationship, and diving into another one feels… reckless. As much as you want him, you know deep down that you're not ready for it, that you don't deserve him, not now, not in your mental state. So, despite the overwhelming temptation, you force yourself to pull back, to resist the urge for something more, knowing that it's the best choice for both of you, at least for now…

"Hey... are you okay? Did I say something wrong?" Megumi's voice is laced with concern as you suddenly move away from him.

"No, no, not at all," you hastily assure him, trying to quell the rising guilt within you. "I'm just feeling a bit dizzy and tired, that's all."

You offer him a reassuring smile, wanting to convey that the time you spent together was enjoyable. But deep down, you wrestle with the guilt of holding back your true feelings. You want to be with him, but you know rushing into something new wouldn't be fair to either of you.

"Alright, let's sleep then," he says, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

"Goodnight, angel," he murmurs softly.

"Goodnight, Megs," you reply, feeling a warmth spreading through you at the endearment. With his kiss lingering on your skin, you close your eyes, allowing yourself to drift into a peaceful slumber.

You both slip under the covers and eventually drift off to sleep. This time feels different, though. With him beside you, you feel a sense of safety and security wash over you, as if all your worries have melted away. There's a peacefulness in the way you sleep, knowing he's right there next to you, and for the first time in a while, you find yourself able to truly relax and let go.

"W-what the fuck?!" Nobara's voice pierces through the room, causing you to jolt awake in surprise and terror. You lean up, your heart racing, and see her standing at Megumi's door, staring at the two of you in disbelief.

As you glance at Megumi, you realize the compromising position you both fell asleep in: his arm wrapped around your waist, your head resting on his shoulder, and one leg draped over his. Quickly, you move back, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as you realize how it must look.

"Why didn't you tell us you're together?!" Nobara's voice is loud and accusatory as she addresses both of you.

You and Megumi exchange a sheepish glance before bursting into laughter at the absurdity of the situation. Just then, you hear Itadori rushing towards Nobara, concern evident in his voice.

"What the heck happened?! Are you guys okay?" Itadori questions, his eyes wide with alarm as he rushes into the room, not initially noticing the situation.

"We're fine, but look!" Nobara shows Itadori her phone, displaying your Twitter feed and the photo you posted.

"What the heck, Megumi? You said you weren't together?!" Itadori's surprise is evident as he glances up at Megumi. Suddenly, his gaze falls upon you, still in bed beside Megumi, and realization dawns on him. Shock registers on his face as he processes the unexpected revelation.

Still chuckling at their reactions, you exchange amused glances with Megumi, who simply shrugs with a smirk on his face.

You and Megumi exchange a knowing glance, silently agreeing to play along with the prank. Without saying a word about your "relationship" (or lack thereof), you both decide to keep up the charade by not giving any definitive answers. It'll be much more amusing to let them speculate and question the authenticity of your supposed relationship as you continue to post more relationship-like pictures on your feed. With mischievous smiles, you both nod in agreement, ready to keep the prank going for as long as possible.

As the week passes by, you realize it's been a while since you've hung out with your friends, including Megumi. It's not that you've been intentionally avoiding him, but there's a nagging feeling inside you, a sense that getting too close to him might lead to something you're not ready for… Truth is, you're scared… scared of getting too close to him, scared of losing control over your feelings, you're hesitant to pursue a relationship, not due to lack of readiness, but because you're grappling with the emotional scars left behind by your past.

Every time you're around him, you feel this undeniable pull, an urge to be closer to him in every way possible. It's not just physical attraction; it's a desire to hold his hand, to spend endless hours talking to him, to have him by your side always.

You don't even realize it, but you've been unintentionally brushing off Megumi's attempts to reach out to you. It's not like you're doing it on purpose; life just seems to be pulling you in a hundred different directions right now.

You've made some big decisions recently, like deciding to move out of your house and transfer to a new school. It's a mix of wanting a fresh start but also feeling scared… Your ex-boyfriend's threats still hang over you like a dark cloud, reminding you of the danger you're trying to escape.

The decision to move homes and schools wasn't easy, but it felt necessary for your own safety. You're terrified of what your ex might do, and you'd rather not take any chances. Initially, you were planning to stay with one of your friends temporarily until you figured out your next move. However, when Yuta and Maki suggested moving in with Inumaki, given the ample space in his house (due to his parents being rich), the opportunity seemed too good to pass up.

With five bedrooms available, one for each of you, and even a gaming room for Toge, the prospect of living with your friends fills you with excitement. Not only will you get to see them every day at school, but now you'll also have the chance to spend time with them at home. It feels like the perfect solution to your current difficult situation, offering safety, companionship, and a fresh start all in one.

As your move-out date approaches, you realize you haven't even started packing, let alone arrange for moving trucks to haul your stuff. Thankfully, you don't have much furniture to worry about; it's mainly your personal belongings in your room and your TV that you want to take with you.

But before diving into your own packing, you're determined to rid your home of any reminders of your ex-boyfriend. You gather up everything that holds a piece of him: his sweaters, sweatpants, photos of you both, the jewelry he once gifted you, and even the love letters from the beginning of your relationship, when he wasn’t such a shitty person. As much as you're tempted to toss it all out or maybe even burn it, you can't bring yourself to do it. Despite everything, you're not the kind of person to be petty. So, you pull out your phone and shoot him a text, asking him to swing by and collect his things.

You open the door to find your ex standing there, a smirk playing on his lips as he greets you. You can't help but roll your eyes at his cocky demeanor.

"Missed me, sweetheart?" he taunts, but you're not having any of it.

"Oh, shut it. Don't bother coming in fully," you retort, cutting him off before he can take his shoes off.

"I'm just giving you your things, then you can leave."

"Sure, whatever," he replies, rolling his eyes in response to your dismissal.

As you head to the kitchen to retrieve his belongings, you're interrupted by another knock at the door. You hesitate, wondering if you're just hearing things, but ultimately decide to ignore it and continue with your task. Grabbing the box of his stuff, you make your way back to the living room.

Meanwhile, your ex opens the door slightly to find a tall boy with dark hair standing outside. Recognition flickers in his eyes; he remembers this boy from last week, the one who stayed at your house. A smirk spreads across his face as he realizes how the tables have turned.

Megumi stares at your ex with a thousand thoughts racing through his mind. Why is your ex here, in your house? Was this why you've been avoiding him? The questions linger, unspoken, as a tense silence settles between them. He refuses to let his true emotions show, masking his hurt and confusion behind his usual nonchalant facade. He stares at your ex, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he's affected by the situation. Breaking the tense silence between them, Megumi finally speaks up.

"Where's Y/N?" he asks, his tone casual despite the turmoil swirling inside him.

"She's busy right now. Do you need something?" your ex responds, clearly enjoying this more.

"Yeah, tell her to call me when she's not busy," Megumi replies evenly, refusing to let your ex get under his skin.

"Will do, bro," your ex says with a smirk, enjoying the tension before Megumi turns to leave.

Megumi walks back to his car with measured steps, his expression carefully neutral, betraying none of the chaos within. As he reaches his car, he pauses, taking a moment to collect himself before getting in. Once seated behind the wheel, he lets out a silent sigh, his facade finally dropping as he allows himself to acknowledge the uneasy emotions swirling inside him. With a heavy heart, he starts the engine, steeling himself to navigate the storm of feelings that threaten to consume him.

As you make your way back to the living room, the sound of your ex's voice blends with another, familiar one at the door.

Was that Megumi?

A sinking feeling settles in your stomach, and you quicken your pace, but it's too late. You watch helplessly as Megumi gets into his car and drives off, leaving you standing there in a state of panic.

Realization hits you like a ton of bricks as you grasp how the situation must have appeared to him, especially since you haven't spoken much since you shared your first kiss. The weight of the misunderstanding presses down on you, and you curse yourself for not reaching out sooner to explain the situation. You realize now that you should have let him know about your plans to move out and how you only invited your ex over to collect his belongings before packing up and moving in with your friends.

Driven by a mix of frustration and desperation, you quickly kick your ex out of your house once you gave his stuff, disregarding his protests as your thoughts are consumed by Megumi. With trembling fingers, you pull out your phone and dial his number repeatedly, each call going straight to voicemail. The unanswered rings only serve to heighten your anxiety, amplifying the sense of urgency to set things right.

Fuck... Megumi, please answer me....

You try calling him a few more times, hoping he'll pick up, but it's no use. The silence on the other end only increases your anxiety more. You know you should probably give him some space and time to cool down, but the fear of losing him grips you tightly. Your mind races with a bunch of thoughts, and your hands shake uncontrollably as you attempt to text him. You have to remind yourself to take deep breaths before you can even begin to type out your messages.

Looking back at the last messages you exchanged only deepens the feeling of self-loathing within you. You remember shutting him down when he invited you to hang out with his friends, and then ignoring his goodnight text. The realization hits hard– you've been acting like an asshole. And then, him seeing your ex at your house only adds to your guilt and shame. You wouldn't blame him if he decided to cut you off completely.

You really fucked up this time.

Now that your ex has retrieved his belongings, you're on a tight deadline to get everything packed by the end of the day. You have to move out tonight, especially since you're starting at a new school tomorrow. Plus, moving everything out today will make it much easier to settle into your new room before school starts. And, it's a good way to pass the time until 6:40 PM tonight, when you plan to head to the park.... Tonight will be the moment of truth to see if he decides to show up. You're overwhelmed with the need to apologize for your silence all week and for turning down his invitations to hang out. And then there's the mess with your ex, which just adds to the chaos. You really want to explain to him that your ex was only there to pick up his stuff before you move, but it's hard to make him understand when you hadn't even mentioned your plans to move to begin with.

It just feels like everything is just spiralling out of control...

please ignore the twitter likes being different and the times on the texts —I was kinda too lazy to fix them....

i originally wanted the time on y/ns text to megumi (her spamming him) to be set at 11:20am but it lit wouldn't work so i gave up...

Also, not totally sold on this chapter, feels like I rushed it a bit.... well not necessarily rushed but to be honest, I had a hard time figuring out how to end it. Had a few ideas but none of them rly felt good enough and i kinda wanted to set up the next chap with the way i was going to end it....

sorry if this is confusing its 3:40am and ive been writing for hours.... 😀

TAGLIST <3

@lavender-hvze , @xbarrjallenx , @atinymonbebestay , @1l-ynn , @chilichopsticks , @dr-fluff-meow, , @lostfracturess, @maya-maya-56, @ichorstainedskin , @luciiferslover

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theweedisasterxoxo · 12 days

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What He Wants To Be

For the April Showers Challenge, I decided to try my hand at writing a Joel Miller x Reader oneshot!

Warnings/Content: allusion to sex (not explicit), petname (one use of “darlin’”), no age gap specified but I do imagine Jackson!Joel, fluff???

Word Count: 538

—

Joel Miller was not a good man.

You could ask any soul who had known him in the past twenty years and they would provide stories suitable for the most grizzly horror collection. They’d tell you how his words offered nothing better, all vulgar and rough around the edges just like him. In the night, when the cyan that painted the canvas of day bled into azure and cerulean, specked with greys and faded pinks, the images that plagued his mind were as twisted as his limbs in his bedsheets.

But for you, he wanted to be a good man — he needed to be a good man.

It was unclear how it even came to be that someone like you had nestled their way into his life and into his heart, wrapped your body around his in a declaration of love he thought he’d long since forgotten. But as his head fell back while he called to a God he did not believe in, as his worn and calloused hands fumbled to hold you close to him, he believed he could be a good man.

“Where’d you go just now?” You ask. Your hands are soaked and covered in bubbles from the dish soap you use to wash the dishes. Facing the window you can see the pouring rain outside, you can hear it pattering against the ground. The breeze drifts in but it’s not so cold that it’s unpleasant. Not when Joel’s arms are around you, his chin resting on your shoulder as he hums along to the song playing from the record player — it’s decades old now. a man sings about being too old to lose it and too young to choose it. You aren’t really listening to the music anyway. Not when Joel speaks up.

“Nowhere special, darlin’,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear. His eyes are closed as he presses a soft kiss to your neck.

Moments like these remind you how glorious life can be, no matter how mundane said moment is. No matter how dreary it is outside or in your hearts, you know you have him. You can only hum in response as his lips pepper more kisses over your neck and across the space it meets your shoulder, swaying you to the music. The splosh of a spoon you drop into the soapy water does nothing to bring you away from the feel of him against you.

“Nowhere special at all,” he repeats as you turn to face him, wrapping your arms ‘round the back of his neck. It dampens his shirt but as long as you’re embracing him he doesn’t care. His lips are over yours in a second, treating you to the love he so desperately wants to give.

The remaining dishes are forgotten about as sinful-sweet words are whispered into the air. Your bodies entwine in a rhythm accompanied by the softest melody of love you could ever hope to express, defenceless and courageous in a world of woes and fear. Smiles tug at lips and hands wander while words of gentle affirmation are uttered.

Joel Miller was not a good man but by God did you make him feel like he was.

—

My lovely moots!:

@strang3lov3 @endlessthxxghts @beefrobeefcal (sorry for not including you, i honestly didn’t realise we were moots!!!)

#undercoveraprilshowerschallenge #joel miller #fanfic #x reader #rainymood #idk how tumblr works #UnderCoverAprilShowersChallengw

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doodle-pops · 8 months

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Of Heroism and Heart

Glorfindel x reader

A/N: I've never been one for writing the whole 'modern–day reader falling into Middle Earth stories', I always preferred to read them. So, I'm attempting my hand at this for the first time. It is a bit different from what is typically written. So, here's your Glorfi fic that won the poll.

Warnings: none, tooth-rotting fluff, Glorfindel has learned how to use his charisma.

Words: 1k

Synopsis: Talks of heroism and villainy become the new philosophical method of displaying one's charm.

“There’s a saying about villains and heroes where I’m from,” you began, your voice thoughtful and reflective. “It goes something like this: ‘A hero would sacrifice you to save the world, but a villain would sacrifice the world to save you.’”

Swinging gently in the breeze, swaying side to side in your hammock, your elven Lord sat across from you, engrossed in the exchange of tales and sayings from your world. Each day seemed to bring a new layer of fascination as he delved into the intricacies of human culture and thought. He had never expected your arrival to kindle such curiosity and interest in his heart. Mortals were extraordinary beings, but your presence had illuminated new facets of their nature that he had yet to explore.

His gaze followed the motion of the potted celandines hanging above, his lips pursed in contemplation as your words settled into his mind. “Care to elaborate?” he inquired, his curiosity genuine.

Shouldering a casual shrug, accompanied by a half–formed smirk, you stretched languidly in the hammock, nestling further into its embrace. You playfully placed your small feet beside his torso. “It’s just one of those sayings people come up with, you know? Derived from observations about heroes and villains,” your tone conveyed a sense of ease, as if you were simply relaying common wisdom passed down to you. “Heroes are driven to save the world, which in turn saves their loved ones. However, sometimes, their loved ones end up perishing in the process of saving the world. On the other hand, villains prioritize protecting their loved ones before pursuing their goal, even if that means destroying the world.”

His brow furrowed as he mulled over your explanation, his expression a canvas of deep contemplation. With each piece of your interpretation, it was as if puzzle pieces were clicking into place within his mind, accompanied by mental light bulbs illuminating his understanding. His appearance resembled that of a bemused puppy, and you couldn’t help but toy with the idea of labelling him your “Golden Retriever,” a nickname he strangely seemed to embody.

“What specifically are you conveying here?” Glorfindel’s head tilted to the side, his gaze fixed on you with a tinge of displeasure. “Your words seem to imply that villains are superior to heroes, given their commitment to safeguarding their loved ones. I find myself in disagreement with that declaration.”

Laughter bubbled from your lips in response to his dissatisfaction, prompting you to sit upright and meet his gaze directly. “What it suggests is that when faced with a choice between saving the world or saving their beloved, a hero would typically choose the world, while a villain would opt for their loved one,” you clarified. “Heroes tend to be focused on overarching morality and the greater good, whereas villains are often more concerned with their personal connections. It’s a play on perspectives—what’s considered right or wrong isn’t always straightforward.”

Glorfindel blinked rapidly, his gaze unwavering as he sat upright to face you directly. His unruly golden locks, cascading like sun–kissed tendrils, framed his countenance like an ethereal halo. A soft blush warmed your cheeks despite the intellectual discourse at hand. It was easy to lose yourself in these conversations, and at times, it almost felt like he possessed an uncanny awareness of his own effect on you.

“I beg to differ,” he asserted firmly, a challenge evident in his voice. “I am regarded as a hero by many for my accomplishments, and I would never permit harm to befall either the world or my beloved. I would strive to safeguard both.”

Raising an eyebrow, you leaned in, your foreheads nearly touching as you met his steadfast gaze. “And how, might I ask, do you intend to accomplish such a feat, renowned Lord Balrog Slayer?”

Drawing even closer, his forehead pressed gently against yours, and he whispered with an air of triumph, “I would ensure your safety...for you are my world. Without you, the world would lose its meaning; you are the bane of my essence, my reason for existence, the very breath I inhale. There can be no world without you at my side, just as there can be no you without the world. As a hero, I would save my world, meleth–nîn. I cherish you deeply.”

A lump formed in your throat, a mixture of emotions leaving you momentarily speechless. The rising heat in your cheeks contrasted with the tears that shimmered in the corners of your eyes. The rush of emotions and the depth of his words left you with a heartwarming smile. Glorfindel’s eloquence had the power to move your soul and reshape your worldview. He effortlessly wove his sentiments into words that stirred your heart, offering you a love and life you had previously only encountered in fairytales. The dream of falling in love with Prince Charming had become a vivid reality ever since you had stumbled into Middle–earth and into his arms.

In the stillness that followed, he took advantage of the moment, his fingers gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. He placed soft kisses on your forehead and cheeks before hesitating, his lips hovering near yours. The anticipation hung in the air, drawing out the moment until his lips finally met yours in a fleeting, yet intense, kiss.

Pulling away, his lashes brushed against your skin as his lips traced playful patterns along your cheeks. “You’re quite the romantic, you know?” you giggled.

“If it means being right, then I shall embrace the role of the romantic for you, my beloved,” he murmured, a warmth of affection evident in his smile.

“Just ensure you tie your hair before rushing to save me, I don’t need another hair–pulling accident in this day and age.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @eunoiaastralwings @koyunsoncizeri @ranhanabi777 @lilmelily @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @hoshinokurasa @singleteapot @the-phantom-of-arda @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @ilu-stripes @justellie17 @justjane @bunson-burner @stormchaser819 @wisheduponastar @roselovesong @batsyforyou

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steddieunderdogfics · 5 months

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This is a space to celebrate fanfics that may have been lost to how quickly this ship grew!

This may change as the blog grows and the fandom continues to create! This post will stay pinned and be updated when these changes occur. Right now, these numbers come from the first three pages of the Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson tag on Ao3.

Nominate an author for WRITER'S SPOTLIGHT here!

Vote on our next THEME WEEEK here!

Suggest a CHALLENGE for Challenge Mondays here!

Submit a fic through our ASK and/or our SUBMISSIONS!

You can see our previously recommended fics here!

Below the cut, there are some frequently asked questions!

Can I submit my own works?

Absolutely! The more the merrier!

What counts as a popular fic?

Popularity is hard to determine with how many pockets of fandom there are. This is why we're using the metrics to gauge the cut off since people are discovering fics for the first time everyday! What may be the quintessential, most popular fic to you could be entirely new to a new fan or someone in another bubble of the Steddie fandom!

Are there any fics you won't take as recs?

No! All fics should be celebrated and it's easy to miss so many amazing creators and stories. Please refrain from anything that is on the first few pages of the ship tag when filtered by hits, kudos, comments, and/or bookmarks, since those are technically the most popular by numbers. As far as content, as long as the fic is properly tagged, it's okay to recommend!

How should we submit our recs?

There are two ways to submit: through the ask box or the submission tab. Asks: If you chose the ask box, just send the title and author (and if you're able the link, but sometimes tumblr won't let you) and I'll add the template to your response with the rating, tags, and summary! Submissions: In the guidelines, there's a template to copy and paste into your submission. Fill it out, add the links, and then choose the tags that best fit the fic you're recommending!

Can I submit multiple stories in one ask?

If you're rec'ing more than two, please do them separately! In order to give each fic the recognition it deserves, it's best if they're getting a post to itself so they stand out. Two is fine for a post, but anything more than that, please split it up!

Can I submit multiple stories in general?

Please do!!

Where can I see the fics that have been submitted?

You can check our main tumblr for fics organized by title and by author!

#steddie fic recs #steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson #steve x eddie

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enchantedchocolatebars · 3 months

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A Winsome Witch And A Happy Human Chapter 1: (Our Story Begins)

Written by 💕 enchantedchocolatebars 🍫 (me lol).

Commission cover art here.

Cover art poll here.

Chapter titles here.

Chapter 1 snippet here.

Chapter 2 here.

Enjoy ! <3

(The other chapters will be linked here.)

(If you enjoy my shorter works, I highly recommend that you start reading this fic series as it will have twice the amount of words and effort put into it, and will be my main focus going forward. It's a charming tale that is very Disney-like about how Caleb and my wittewife oc, Clara, came together. Although they don't appear in this chapter, they will appear in the subsequent ones. I appreciate any and all feedback if you are interested in sharing or sending any. Being that this is my first ever chapter fic, I'll be promoing and reblogging about it a lot.)

Even though the Titan did enjoy watching his living son from the floating cubes that drifted around in the realm known as the In Between as doing so gave him the opportunity to watch his son grow up, he also liked spending time with his unhatched children.

Tonight was family game night.

“So,” the Titan began, smiling what was a close approximation to a smile down at his three little titan eggs who were sitting in front of him in a pool of shallow water.

Egg number one wore a pink bow, egg number two wore a blue baseball cap, and egg number three wore an egg-sized ‘Bad Girl Coven’ t-shirt, which matched with the one its father wore.

Reaching behind his back, the Titan happily pulled out two board game boxes.

The box in his left hand had a picture of a checkerboard, while the other displayed the image of a black king chess piece.

“What game should we play tonight?” he asked his egglings, not expecting them to give him a verbal answer as he had the ability to comprehend them without verbalization.

He holds up the first option. “Checkers?” He lists off, shaking the box some before bringing it down and lifting up the second option, repeating the process. “Or chess?”

The eggs, of course, stayed silent about the choices, but still communicated to their papa.

“…,”

The Titan couldn’t contain the buoyant laughter that decided to bubble up out of his chest when he heard them.

“Very well,” he said with a second chuckle, stowing the checkers box behind his back once again before using a single beckoning gesture of his finger to raise a table from below the shallow surface of the water.

Once the Titan sets the chess box down on the table, he opens it and takes out the board before laying it out.

“We’ll start with chess first and play checkers afterward. I’ll even throw in an extra game just for the fun of it,” he tells his eggs with a tender smile, placing the black and white chess pieces in their proper places.

He puts the pawns in front, then lines up the other pieces symmetrically with the king and queen in the middle.

Next, the Titan walks over and, with extra care and very gentle claws, picks up his little eggling in the blue baseball cap.

Heading over to its chair, he produces a plump white pillow from thin air onto it and carefully sets it down.

Two more plump pillows are conjured across from the table as the Titan picks up his other two eggs and settles them down on their seats.

They were going to watch their papa play against their sibling in a match.

Upon taking his seat at the table, the Titan casts a sunny smile across his scruffy face as he gazed at his child.

"I know this is your first time playing chess," he began in a kind and understanding voice before continuing.

"So I'll share with you what I know."

"...," went the egg to its father.

Such an innocently childlike response led to the Titan's soft chuckle, his bony smile reaching all the way up to his round, hollow eyes.

"Don't worry," he reassured to his unhatched egg softly.

"I'll explain all the basics to you, and we'll start slowly and take our time while playing."

Chess was a challenging and complex game, he knew that.

The Titan wasn't very fond of the classic board game at first when he first started playing it with a human man with blonde hair and a forelock.

However, as their games progressed and the man taught him the basics, his liking for it increased.

"...?" asked the egg.

The Titan nodded. "Promise," he said as their chess lesson began.

The two most crucial pieces in the game are reached for by clawed hands.

"See these two guys here?" The Titan asked his egg, holding the pieces in his hand before continuing.

"In chess, we call them kings. Each player only gets one, and they're the most important pieces in the game. You want to attack your opponent's king while also keeping your own king safe and protected."

King.

Safe.

Protected.

The Titan's mind was filled with memories of his oldest son.

He sighs of bliss from the memories before continuing with his explanation.

"Once the king is captured, the game ends, so always remember to keep him shielded."

As the Titan lists off the other pieces, he points at them.

"Each player controls 16 pieces: 8 pawns, 2 bishops, 2 knights, 2 rooks, 1 king, and 1 queen."

"...?"

Papa Titan chuckles.

"The knights are the little horse heads, and the rooks are the little castle towers," he told his little one.

"Each chess piece has its own unique way of moving across the board and potentially capturing your opponent's pieces as it goes."

He points at the pawns.

"Pawns have the ability to move one square forward per turn, except for their first turn when they have the ability to move two squares forward. Pawns move diagonally forward by capturing other pieces diagonally. They cannot move backwards."

After explaining the other pieces to his egg in great detail, Papa Titan moves on to the gameplay and strategy.

...

"... And that's the game!" The Titan finishes his final statement with a grin.

Hands are placed on his hips.

"Sounds simple, right?"

"...," the egg said otherwise as a multitude of thoughts swirled inside its shell.

The Titan nodded with complete understanding of the overwhelming feeling.

"It's a lot to take in, but I think you can do it," he gently encouraged with a fatherly smile before continuing.

"Since you're just starting out, focus on always protecting your king, and you'll do just fine."

He gestures for the egg to make the first move.

As soon as he blinks, he observes that a white pawn has moved two spaces forward.

The Titan smiles, doing the same with his black one.

Upon the second blink, his eyes detect an advanced white king on the board, causing him to let out a jolly laugh.

"You're already a natural at this," he complimented, moving his knight.

Blinking, he notices that his child has pushed his king piece up a space.

In response, the Titan opened up a rook by pushing a pawn.

After more pieces are pushed, the Titan blinks again and sees that he's been checkmated.

He gives a playful laugh. "Well, that was certainly fun! You win!"

A hand hovers over the egg, gently patting the top part of its shell. "Good job."

...

After family game night concluded, the three eggs, who were now wearing small night caps that fit them just right, were curled up in bed under a thick comforter together as their father entered their room with a light brown hardcover book tucked under his arm.

"I'm hope you're all ready for tonight's story," he began, his voice so soft and tender as he took a seat in the rocking chair in the middle of the room.

"Because it's one of my favorites," he reveals with a gentle chuckle, showing off the cute cover to his children.

It was adorned with a gold border as scatters of sparkles and hearts were displayed in the background.

A happy human dressed in a pink suit and a winsome witch dressed in a blue gown were in the foreground, their respective palismen on each of their shoulders.

Behind them was another human with a beard, angrily spying on them in a bush with a bird perched on his head.

"It's titled 'A Winsome Witch And A Happy Human'," The Titan read as he opened the book and turned to the first page.

"Our story begins in Bonesborough..."

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deliciousangelfestival · 6 months

Text

Frosty Affection || Drabble

Character: College!Bucky Barnes x College!Reader

Summary: The aftermath after Bucky told Y/N that he's the heir of the underworld business.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

Main Story, Meet The Barnes, Homecoming, Jealous, Sick Boyfriend

Y/N: "Wait, you're the next leader of the underworld business? Are you telling me you've got a secret lair and everything?"

Bucky: "Well, not precisely a lair, more like a fancy office with a view. But yeah, it's a bit complicated."

Y/N: "Your biggest challenge was dealing with the student council drama, not dodging bullets and making secret deals!"

Bucky: "Dealing with student council drama is easier than dealing with 'that' business."

Y/N stared at Bucky's beautiful eyes, her curiosity evident: "I thought my biggest challenge was getting you to notice me. Little did I know, I was signing up for a lifetime of adventure."

Bucky, raising his eyebrows with amusement, let his arms circle around her shoulders: "There's no turning back, Y/N."

Y/N, feeling a rush of emotions, blushed uncontrollably and instinctively hid her face in the crook of Bucky's arm.

The warmth of his embrace sent shivers down her spine, and a mixture of excitement and anticipation bubbled within her.

As she hid her face, a soft giggle escaped her, revealing that beneath the blush, she was secretly thrilled by the prospect of the adventures ahead.

Bucky, sensing her reaction, couldn't help but smile. He could feel the subtle vibrations of her laughter against his chest, and the genuine joy in her response made the enigmatic underworld leader momentarily forget the complexities of his world.

Taglist: @scott-loki-barnes

@almosttoopizza

#bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #college!bucky #bucky barnes fluff

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whyiseverynametakenpls · 9 months

Text

Left out

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

Genre: The tiniest bit of angst

Tw: none I think

Pairing: Kyo Kaneko x reader (platonic)

Characters: Kyo, you, Ren, Maria, some girl i named Danielle

Story: you've made some nice friends.

"Kyo! I'm over here!" you call out cheerfully, waving to get his attention from across the airport.

Turning in response to your voice, he searches the crowd until his eyes lock onto you. A bright smile breaks across his face, and he hastens his steps to reach you.

"(Name)!!" he exclaims, his excitement palpable as he rushes over, clearly delighted to see his childhood friend once again.

With a smile mirroring his, you envelop him in a warm embrace, a rush of fond memories flooding in.

"Long time no see! How was Japan?" he inquires with genuine interest, eager to catch up.

Returning your embrace, he responds with a slight shrug, "It's been around 6 years, I guess? Since you left in 10th grade... Ah! I don’t know!"

"Six years? It felt like an eternity! It was so boring!!" you admit, a touch of nostalgia in your voice.

He teases playfully, "Naturally. After all, I'm your one and only friend."

You defend yourself, "Oh, come on! I've got a bunch of friends!"

Arching an eyebrow, he challenges you with a playful grin, "Prove it. Name two."

After a moment's thought, you respond with a playful grin, "Danielle! She’s my friend!"

He chuckles knowingly, countering, "Danielle's my friend too, so that doesn't count!"

"Hey, unfair!" you protest in mock annoyance.

With an amused roll of his eyes, he takes your hand and guides you forward, his intentions intriguing you.

"So, where are we headed?" you finally break the silence.

He responds with a surprising declaration, "Finding you some friends."

You halt abruptly, accidentally pulling him back and causing a momentary stumble for both of you.

"But I don't want new friends! I'm fine as I am," you object with a playful pout.

He simply nods, undeterred by your response, letting out a small “Uhuh”, and offers his hand to help you up before gently resuming his course.

"Kyoo!!" you playfully whine, your voice echoing through the nearly empty airport as the two of you continue on your way.

-----------------✧------------------

Upon arriving at the mall, he abruptly halted, scanning the surroundings as if in search of something specific.

"What are you looking for, Kyo?" you queried, your face a canvas of confusion.

"People," he replied succinctly, leaving you even more puzzled.

"What?" you pressed for clarification, only to be met with silence from the blue-haired boy.

He wandered about like a disoriented child seeking their parents, until he suddenly came to an abrupt stop. "Is something wrong?" you inquired.

"Ren!" he called out, his voice infused with excitement.

A man? An alien? The tall, horned figure turned to face Kyo and broke into a smile.

"Kyo!" he greeted warmly.

"Hey, so this is the person I mentioned. (Name)! They just got back from Japan!" Kyo introduced you.

"Nice to meet you, (Name)! I'm Ren!" Ren extended his friendly welcome.

"Yeah... Hi, Ren," you mumbled, a gnawing unease settling in your stomach.

"Oh my god! Kyo and Ren?" a melodious, feminine voice reached your ears.

You turned to see a... child? She was striking with her pink hair and eyepatch.

"Oh! Who's this?" she inquired.

"(Name), meet Maria. I was telling you both about each other. Maria, this is (Name)," Kyo performed the introductions.

"Ah, hello!" Maria greeted you with enthusiasm.

"Hello to you too," you responded politely.

"Oh! Guess what, guys? Did you see the new game that just dropped?" she bubbled with excitement.

"Wait, today? Seriously?" Kyo blurted out in astonishment.

"You told me it was coming out next week!" he added, pointing an accusatory finger at Maria.

"Are you seriously blaming me right now?" Maria retorted, her indignation evident.

"Yeah, I am!" Kyo shot back, the playful argument escalating.

Watching Kyo effortlessly connect with others hits you. Why can't you do the same? What's your purpose here? He seems perfectly fine without you... Does he truly need his old friend when he's already found new friends?

You turned your gaze away, overwhelmed by a rush of shame.

"Um... I think I'll head to the bathroom real quick," you excused yourself.

"Sure thing, just don't get lost," Kyo replied casually.

You hummed in response, swiftly turning and walking away.

As you walked, the earlier sense of shame transformed into a lingering sadness.

"Yeah... Why would he still need me? I'm just holding onto him..." you whispered to yourself, the words echoing in the hollow corners of your thoughts.

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

<- MASTERLIST

-> I wrote this in school, so don't mind the weird and rushed ending 😇 (yes I am still in school)

-> LISTEN TO FLOWER BY UNNÄMED ITS SO GOOD

#nijisanji en #nijisanji en x reader #nijisanji #nijisanji x reader #whatever gender reader #nijisanji iluna #nijisanji iluna x reader #iluna #iluna x reader #kyo #kyo kaneko #kyo x reader #kyo kaneko x reader #platonic not romantic

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imfromthemiddlekingdom · 7 months

Text

Maybe it’s because I’m a fundamentally spiteful and resentful person but whenever I read Beren and Lúthien I cannot help but despise how selfish and self fulfilling they are without any benefit to the people around them.

Lúthien is, according to Thingol’s claim of being King to all of Beleriand, Princess to the entire continent. Surely, no matter how politically disinterested she is in Menegroth’s court and how contently she is to dance her days away under her mothers protection, her father claiming the entirety of the land under his dominion means she surely has some responsibility to the people living in it? She is THE princess, her mother is a goddess and her father, for better or worse, is a king. She should have some sort of responsibility to her people, even if we discount the Noldor in Beleriand there are still many Sindar outside the girdle that she should, in practice, hold responsibility over as their princess.

We know she is powerful, perhaps the most powerful non Maia entity in the whole of middle earth during the first age, yet she has never shown any interest (not necessarily a fault if she does not design to enter the war at all and only stay in her bubble, it’s not a flaw not to fight if you chose to stay out of it entirely but it is more so when you do have the power to do something but only use said power to benefit yourself) in defending, or even aiding in the free people of Beleriand. I don’t think I would have as much of a problem as I do with her IF she didn’t choose to use her ridiculous plot armor to only further her own interest whilst having the narrative paint her as a hero and a saint. If the narrative allowed her to be shallow and vain and all in all uninterested in anything but herself it would be different and I would like her so much more for it. But Tolkien wrote her as a heroine, wrote her as a selfless being who is perfect and flawless who has a hound of Valinor by her side to aid her in her “righteous” quest of true love.

It’s jarring to me to read about how “selfless” and “brave and self sacrificial” she is when she challenges Sauron and sung Melkor to sleep when it benefits no one but herself. It’s frustrating how people paint her as someone who is entirely in the right for her actions when in the larger legendarium it is very obviously out of place for such a victory to be had. Sure, you may say that the Doom lay over the Noldor, kinslayers and not, but even the Men who came later who have no Doom beyond Erus gift have it as easy and as fantastical as them.

Lúthien is a Demi-goddess. Not only that she is also a leader of her people no matter if she likes it or not. She has a responsibility to those living under her fathers protection (the griddle) and less so to those outside living on his claimed lands. She has the power to back up her authority if need be as shown during the entirety of her story yet she chooses not to use any of it if it is not to benefit herself. She has the power to sing the greatest of the Ainur to sleep, to sing Melkor the mighty to sleep, to send Sauron his lieutenant fleeing, yet she uses none of it to help others who her father has claimed under his protection.

“Oh but the Noldors goals were selfish in origin too! They only crossed the ice/sailed to defeat Morgoth and reclaim the Silmarils!” Yes that’s true but their actions in holding back Morgoths forces were also beneficial to all people living in Beleriand. The siege allowed for centuries of tentative peace and allowed mortals with shorter lives to live in relative normality under the shadows of Angband. What did Thingol do in the meantime? Turn away refugees during the aftermath of the Bragollach? Be so isolationist that his own people chose to go with Turgon to Gondolin instead of seeking shelter with his Maia Wife’s protection? What did Lúthien do whilst the Noldor were bleeding and dying for the forces of Morgoth to be kept at bay? Dancing in her glade and doing fuck all with her extremely over powered abilities that could have been the thing needed to turn the tide of war if we discounted the doom?

If the narrative allowed her to be what she is, self serving, selfish and in the end extremely in love, I would not be so much of a hater for anything related to her. But instead because she is a self insert of Tolkiens wife she is idolized and put on a pedestal. That I could not stomach.

“Oh but Fei! Without her stealing a twice stolen jewel the Union would’ve never been planned and because of her bravery in storming Angband Maedhros was given hope that he was slowly losing!” Yes. Exactly. But look where that went. Menegroth didn’t join because of C&C’s actions and Nargothrond barely sent any troops due to it. And boy do I have things to say about people not setting aside their differences to fight against a common foe but I won’t bore you with my own ramblings about how egotistical fantasy elves are and how they can’t be arsed to set aside their own hurts for the good of all for a campaign today.

Beren isn’t any better ngl. As someone who’s people have been targeted and murdered en mass, displaced and had their homes stolen from them, I should be able to relate to Beren. But I never could. I never saw him as anything but a person who ran from his own responsibilities to his tribe when he saw a pretty lady and then sacrificed his best ally to get what he wanted without thinking of how it would’ve affected anyone else other than him. He knowingly accepted a doomed quest, a quest that should’ve otherwise killed him if not for plot armor and in turn killed all his allies that his ancestors cultivated and adored. His own feelings took precedence over an entire kingdom. No matter how eager Finrod was to assist him, he still weighed his own happiness against an entire kingdom of people and found it more important and that I could not stand.

Maybe it’s cultural. Maybe it’s because of my culture that such selfishness and self righteousness never sat right with me. Coupled on with how the narrative justifies twice stolen artifacts as the thief’s since they “won” it and since it was hallowed it never belonged to Feanors sons anyways because I guess a higher being thought their judgment had any right to be extended to the people they abandoned, never sat right in my mind. I really don’t care how fans justify the works of someone’s hands being no longer theirs because of holy judgement. A council of higher power who never did anything to help the ones their kindred wronged beyond a cursory “they’ve changed and repented and therefore we would do no more than to warn him of his own folly” has no right in dictating how said beings own works should be inherited or how said beings magnum opus should or should not be held by worthy hands. If they had no hand in creating it they have no right to dictate who is worthy and who is not. Lúthien and Beren stealing a stolen work does not give them rights to it. No matter how much people would like to argue that “oh the Silmarils would’ve rejected the sons of Feanor anyways so why not let prettiest elf maiden ever to have it instead of those dastardly kinslayers!!!” It does not belong to the person who stole it no matter how justified it may have been in their minds. Morgoth probably thought his theft of the Silmarils was justified too, and pretty sure if you asked him he would’ve had a very convincing argument on how since the light of the two trees was created by his kin and Feanor only found a vessel to hold it, it technically is still the light of the two trees and therefore it belongs to the Valar instead of the first born of Eru.

“Oh but Fei! She kept it as a compensation for C&C keeping her without her consent and Celegorm trying to force her to marry him!” You do realize for compensation to be valid for a crime committed against another the perpetrators must be aware that said compensation is taking place right? If let’s say, Celegorm somehow managed to be less oath bound along with the other SoF and decided that yes, his actions towards her was monstrous and out of line and decided that the Silmaril was his way of apologizing it would be a different story. It cannot be a compensation without both parties being aware of it! Why do you think my county and Japan still haven’t made up and have rocky international relationships despite how many times they’ve individually apologized? Nothing in the text suggest that Lúthien claimed the Silmaril as her compensation against Celegorm and Curufin. Nothing in the text suggest that the SoF ever decided that, yes, they should do something to smooth over hurts caused by themselves with the Silmaril. So all arguments of “it belongs to them because of xyz and is compensation” is void and non cannon.

Why can’t people let Lúthien be selfish and self serving? Why can’t they look at this elf maiden who is quite grown may I remind you, and think ah yes, she puts her love above everything else and that is a flaw but she is still a good person. Without putting her on a pedestal of sainthood?

But then again I am a hard core Feanorian supporter and I really don’t like the Ainur and anything that has anything to do with them so I am biased.

#the silmarillion #lay of leithian #luthien #Beren #Lúthien and Beren #sons of feanor #the silmarilion #the Silmarils #Morgoth #Sauron #curufin #I’m just extremely salty about this fairytale love story in the middle of a tragedy #Celegorm

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notyour-valentine · 2 years

Text

The Boy in the Window 18 ~ Tommy Shelby X Reader (Series)

Chapter Summary: Even as (Y/N), Emma and Charlie settle into their new life, she can't trust it yet, and it's only made worse when Tommy comes home

Notes: I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

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

Warning: Canon conforming mention of violence. (18/21+). Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Expect spoilers for Peaky Blinders Season 1-4.

Wordcount: 5774

Part 18

[Previously]

One change she couldn't have anticipated was the amount of time she suddenly had on her hands.

She did not have to clean, did not have to cook, no laundry to do and any shopping was a pass time for a few luxuries rather than dragging necessities back to her house.

It added hours to her day, which she still wasn't too sure how to fill.

Doing too much of nothing wasn't for her and after trodding on a few of the maids’ and the cook's toes by interfering, she chose to use the added time to do her due diligence when it came to the foundation.

Tommy had put her on the board and for however long he sought to keep her there, she was determined to do the best work she could.

It wasn’t like her position was secure, but she didn’t want to humiliate herself with half-knowledge and foolish mistakes.

So of course she had a lot to catch up on.

It was a strange sensation, to sit in the gardens, with charity reports and a notebook in front of her, as well as some tea Lisa had brought her.

She could feel the sun on her face and the wind in her hair while only the sound of birds and the laughter of children interrupted the silence.

It felt almost like some sort of dream.

The garden was Emma's absolute favourite. Nothing delighted her more than the fact that she could just open the terrace door and run out at any given time- to climb the tree, to swing, to skip rope or to play with hoops, to challenge Charlie to a game of chase or involve her in hide and seek.

Unlike in the church green of Small Heath, (Y/N) had no qualms about letting her walk barefoot, a decision which she thought she might soon regret, as Emma loved the feeling of grass under her feet.

Charlie didn't mind being outdoors the slightest, but the games didn't capture his attention the same way that they did Emma's.

Sooner or later, he'd always find their way to her side, into her lap or her arms, as if he wanted to make good on all the caresses he had missed in the past two weeks.

She needed it to.

Having both of the children with her, both happy and healthy and within arm's reach brought a sense of peace to her she had thought she would never feel again.

The only thing that made her uneasy was the uncertainty of what would happen when Tommy returned home.

All day, she'd have the children around her, and they had even agreed that Charlie would be allowed to sleep over during the weekend.

So on Saturday they had an early meal before wasting bathtime.

There were three full bathrooms in this house, complete with a bathtub each and not the kind she was used to- too big and too expensive.

But Emma liked it.

And she loved the bubble bath and the fact that she could have hot water coming out of a tap if she so chose.

Lisa was allowed to help with bathtime, but Charlie insisted that (Y/N) do the singing herself, which she gladly did.

It sounded different in the tiled bathroom.

After both children were dried and wrapped in robes, which conspicuously matched somehow, they all snuggled up together to listen to the stories she read, with the weight of two children on her chest, their little breaths syncing to one calming rhythm.

If she could have frozen time she would have made it stop in just that moment, with the calm and the warmth of their three tangled bodies.

The village church was a small, stone building, nothing comparable in size to the large church they had on Small Heath, but as soon as she had stepped inside with one child on each hand that Sunday morning, she found herself liking it.

The walls weren’t coated in the extravagant mosaics and paintings of the one she had been used to, but the simplicity felt more appropriate in a strange way. It was a village church that fit into the village, with neatly placed stones, painted windows and delicately carved statues.

The freshly placed floral wreaths seemed just as celebratory to her as the gilded decorations that caught the light. Those had often felt strange to her, residing in a place where so many had so little.

But here, the church, neat and tidy, and honest, fit the village with its clean streets and well kept front gardens. And the people had smiles on their faces instead of smoke stains and greetings on her lips rather than spits and curses.

This really was a good place, and it almost quenched all her unease.

Two weeks, no word of Tommy. Not even a sign of life.

Lizzie was concerned, Frances unsure, Linda just annoyed, but (Y/N) felt a nagging fear that didn’t grow, but didn’t fade either with time.

Tommy wasn’t good all on his own. He never had been.

He had craved solitude, of course, and needed his quiet time more than most. Poets could talk endlessly about the difference between being alone and being lonely, but (Y/N) knew that Tommy had always needed people at arm's reach - not many, and not just any random people, but a select few who he knew cared for him and who he cared for in return.

It surprised her that he had functioned at all in those two years where he had fallen out with his brothers.

Now he was all alone, or at least according to what they know.

Sometimes, at night, she imagined him in the arms of some woman, on some distant shore perhaps, with crashing waves and white curtains fluttering in the warm night wind. The image left a bitter taste in her mouth, but she preferred even that to the thought that he was all alone.

But it wasn’t her concern, besides, she was the last person he’d ever tell.

And she had the children.

The benches soon filled and (Y/N) noticed that men and women attended in equal measure, unlike in Small Heath, where only rarely men were seen.

There were apologies and courtesies when people shuffled along the pews and greetings when they didn’t.

And while she was met with curiosity, it wasn’t…unkind, not the way it had been in Small Heath.

Instead she recognised, as “The woman that now lives in Warburton House.”

And so she had to introduced herself, and undoubtedly her name spread through the rows, but it was not said in malice, which was nice for a change.

These people did not have a reason to look down on her just yet.

After lunch, and a little nap for the little ones, she decided to take the children back into the village on Lisa’s suggestion, as there was a green area which she highly recommended.

It was a large, spacious thing, close to a field of wild flowers next to some meadows, with neatly placed trees providing shade.

(Y/N) was not the only one that had had the idea.

There were many people out today, young and old - some in entire families spanning several generations. There was an old couple sitting together on a bench and a young one having a picnic.

It almost seemed like something one would put in a postcard or in an advertisement.

Emma was giddy with excitement, eager to explore a new territory, but Charlie was more cautious.

“Do you come here often?”, she asked Charlie, as she sat the basket she had brought down beside her.

“No.”, he said, looking up at her with a frown. “Why?”

(Y/N) cleared her throat.

“Well, I thought you would. It’s not that far from your house and you can swing and climb.”

Charlie shook his head.

“We’ve got swings at my house and at your house too.”

His voice had been light, but that only made his words weigh heavier on her mind.

“Mummy!”, Emma called, tugging at her sleeve. “Mummy, they’re playing catch. Can we join?”

As she spoke, she nearly stumbled over the words with excitement.

“Of course you can, but be nice. These children don’t know you yet.”

Emma beamed from ear to ear, as she took Charlie’s hand.

“Come on, Charlie!”, she quickly said, pulling him along.

Charlie didn’t seem too keen at first, but before long, she could see him running around with the rest of them.

As he should.

It was no good, for a child, to be all alone.

She’d have to make these outings more a habit than an exception, she thought, as she saw the way the children all mixed and mingled.

For a frightful second she thought she had lost sight of Charlie, but a moment later he came running from the wildflower patch, three freshly picked daffodils in his hand.

“Look - look!”, he cried, beaming with excitement from ear to ear.

“They’re very pretty!”, she told him, mirroring his wide smile.

It only ever grew at her compliment.

“They’re for you!”, he insisted, his chest swelling with pride.

(Y/N) leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, my darling!”, she said.

He handed them to her and ran off again, calling Emma’s name.

(Y/N) brought the flowers to her face and inhaled the faint scent.

They weren’t particularly large, and one had a slight kink, but to her they were more beautiful as prize winning roses.

In her mind, she was already pressing them so that she could keep them forever, when another woman sat down next to her.

“You mind?”, she asked, a hand on her swollen stomach.

“Not at all!”, (Y/N) said, shifting to the side to give her more room.

She gave her a relieved smile and leaned back.

By her estimation, she had to be about six months along, still a bit to go, but definitely showing.

“I saw your boy just now.”, she said, offering her a wide smile. “A real sweetheart.”

“He is.”, (Y/N) said, her heart beating faster as she glanced at her flowers once more.

“My boy wouldn’t look twice at flowers. All he thinks about is football.”, she continued. “I hope this one’s different.”

“I’m sure it will be just lovely.”, she assured the other woman.

“Lovely’s making me feel like my back’s going to snap.”, she complained under her breath before shifting slightly.

Been there, she thought, glancing at Emma.

It hadn’t been easy, but many others had had it far worse.

“For me it was the kicking that did it. All day, nothing, but as soon as I tried to sleep, you’d think there was a league final going on in my belly.”, she told her.

The dark haired woman chuckled under her breath as she rubbed her hand over her belly.

“Oh yes.”, she sighed. “You’d think nature would have taken it a bit easier on us, but here we are.”

That made her tilt her head in agreement.

“But it’s worth it.”, (Y/N) said, her eyes finding the children once more.

“You’re that lady that just moved into the Dower House?”, she asked after a little while.

She nodded, feeling her cheeks heat up.

“Yes, I suppose so.”, she mumbled, ��but I’m no lady. Far from it, actually.”

The other woman waved it off before introducing herself as Barbara Caple.

“(Y/N) Hale.”, she said.

“Pleasure to meet you.”, she said.

“Likewise.”

Within a few sentences, they were on a first name basis.

Barbara told her that they lived not too far away from the church. She had worked as a nurse before getting pregnant with her first and her husband was doing something administrative for the local hospital and the council. He had been a soldier and that was how they had met.

Apparently, he had been driving her crazy because he had kept calling her over just so that he could talk to her.

It made (Y/N) smile, and it was surprising how easy it came to her to talk about her husband, how she had been a shy thing who had thought she would be invisible forever, but he had picked her out somehow.

“And what does he do?”, she wanted to know.

“I’m a widow.”, she said, but made sure to offer the woman a smile as not to embarrass her. It didn’t exactly work.

“Now I’ve put my foot in it, haven’t I?”, she asked, making (Y/N) shake her head.

“It’s alright, I suppose.”, she assured her. “We’re alright.”

For now.

As if to prove her point, Emma called out for her, waving excitedly before turning back and talking to other children.

“Wait- did that little girl just call you Mummy?”, Barbara asked, shielding her eyes against the early spring sun to see better .

“Oh yes,”, she explained, “that’s my daughter Emma.”

The other woman’s eyes went wide as they returned to her.

“Oh my days!”, she exclaimed. “No wonder you thought they were playing football in your belly - twins? I’d never!”

(Y/N)’s mouth dropped open as she shook her head.

“Oh, no, no- they’re not twins!”, she said quickly.

Barbara frowned as she looked closer.

“Did you have them back to back then?”, she wondered.

“No,”, (Y/N) insisted, her cheeks burning, “Charlie’s not my son. Emma’s my daughter and he is - “

Her breath hitched.

“He is the son of a friend. I’m just watching him.”

That made Barbara relax slightly.

“So he’s with you on holiday then?”, she asked.

“Not really, he lives close by.”

“But I’ve never seen him before!”, she argued, taking her fourth look.

“Surely not. He’s not from around here?”

(Y/N) nodded.

“What’s his name? Charlie…who?”

“Charlie Shelby.”

It seemed like Barbara Caple went through shock, surprise and confusion all at once, ending in her jaw dropping open.

“Really?”, she asked.

(Y/N) nodded, swallowing hard.

There goes your reputation.

But Barabra only huffed.

“I didn’t know that man had any friends. He seems most disagreeable to me.”

The children had had such a blast out by the play area, she decided to take them back there during the week. Even if groceries where delivered to the house, which seemed rather outlandish, (Y/N) had wanted to do some shopping.

It not only made her feel a little less useless but it also introduced her to more parts of the little village that she lived in now.

She did not dare call it home yet.

But the behaviour of the people there reminded her of the time she and her husband had only just begun to live together, honest, decent people living decent lives.

There was a tranquillity to be found in routine, a sense of safety in the simple, ordinary way one could live.

And she liked it.

After a hour or two she let the children run around and play, they returned to Warburton House with a basket of goods and a day of fun, at least she hoped so.

Lisa greeted them inside, and was quick to help the children take their coats off.

“Frances called.”, she explained, lowering her voice so that only (Y/N) could hear. “Mr. Shelby is back from his holiday.”

With that all the warmth the sun had kissed onto her cheeks, vanished.

“Oh.”, she whispered.

It wasn’t like she had not expected it, but it still caught her off guard.

And it left her with one burning question.

What now?

As apparently Tommy’s arrival didn’t change the schedule, the children were having their snacks together.

That was new, as she had gotten used to throwing everything out the window to accommodate him. But now it gave her time, time to think.

Only thinking wouldn’t be enough and so she made her way over to the small writing desk by the window.

Houses like these, she had learned, came with their own letter writing paper, and now she had two sets - this and the one from the Shelby Family Foundation which Lizzie had given to her.

In the end she had decided on the letter writing paper from the house, even if it still made her felt uneasy.

Only it wasn’t just the paper.

She stared at it for over ten minutes before she decided to write, only to scrap it - again and again and again until the sixth effort stood, or rather had to stand, since she otherwise would have run out of paper.

It left her displeased but it was better than the other attempts.

But not good enough.

There were no words she could find that would express how she really felt, the confusion, the desperation, the suffocating need for certainty only he could provide.

Taking a shuddering breath, she read over the carefully drafted handwritten lines again. It almost seemed too impersonal, but what else could she do?

She thanked him, for everything, and told him how good Charlie was and what fun they had been having before ending with her hope that he was doing well and then the one thing that had burned in the back of her mind for days now.

What now?

It was almost a plea for a conversation, something, anything that would bring an explanation and an assurance, proper assurance and not just words from Ada or Lizzie.

She needed to hear it from him or else she would never believe it.

When it was time for Charlie to go, she buttoned his coat up herself.

“I’m sure you’ll have such fun with your father!”, she assured him.

“I guess.”, Charlie said, swaying back and forth slightly. “But I’m still coming back here, yes?”

“Of course, Master Charles.”, Frances said with a wide smile, as relief washed over Charlie's face.

In one hand she held some of the biscuits (Y/N) had baked with the children the day before, as well as the letter she had written.

“Come now!”, she asked Charlie, who wrapped his arms around her neck a second time.

“Promise I can come back?”, he whispered so faintly she almost didn’t hear him.

“Promise!”, she whispered, giving him a little squeeze.

(Y/N) only let go when he did, and watched him look back four times before the car left the driveway.

It was three days later when Charlie returned and both Emma and her were waiting outside for him.

The car had barely stopped when the little boy had already opened the door himself, not waiting for Frances as he ran out, leaving his cap behind.

“Hello, my darling!”, (Y/N) called, crouching down so that she could take him in her arms right away.

For all his rush to get there, Charlie lingered for a long time, burying his nose in the crook of her neck.

“Aw, I’ve missed you too!”, she assured him, still smiling, but when he clutched her tighter as she tried to let go, her smile froze.

“Are you alright, Charlie?”, she asked, pulling back so that she could look into his eyes.

“Now yes.”, he whispered.

Before she had the chance to ask another question, Emma had already snuck in.

“Charlie, Charlie - Mummy said we could build a blanket fort in the living room!”, she giggled, taking his hand and pulling him inside.

Still crouching on the ground she saw Frances approaching.

Slowly, she rose, meeting the woman in the no man’s land between the house and the car.

“Good morning, Mrs. Hale.”, she greeted with a polite smile. “I hope you are well.”

(Y/N) nodded, unable to hide her frown as she returned the courtesies.

“Did Tommy say anything?”, she wanted to know, unable to stop her thundering heart.

Frances nodded.

“Mr. Shelby has asked me to convey a message to you.”

The sound of that made her heart drop and she swallowed hard, bracing herself for anything, because preparing for any less would be foolish.

But unlike her, who felt like a tornado was raising havoc inside her, Frances seemed to be the epitome of professional calmness.

“He is grateful for how you take care of Charlie and wishes it to continue as it is.”

Relief made her shudder, but it was only one of the many concern she held inside her.

“He also wants to ensure that you and Emma are taken care of. Any medical bills, schooling fees, house expenses or the like will automatically be covered by his accounts and you will also receive a weekly allowance in addition to the monthly earnings for your work with the foundation.”

With that all feeling of relief had been replaced with jaw clenching nausea.

Before she could argue, she continued.

“Mr. Shelby is very pleased that Emma is taking to the horse riding lessons and wants them to continue twice a week.”

Of course Tommy would make a mention of bloody horses before talking about what really matters, what she had begged him to tell her in that letter.

It made her want to explode, but Frances only continued on with the discipline of a soldier marching on.

“If you need anything else, it is to be conveyed to me, as Mr. Shelby does not want to see you or speak to you, not in person or on the telephone or by any other means.”

She felt as if the other woman had slapped her as her mouth dropped open.

“I’m sorry?”, she gasped.

“He also insists you are not to enter the grounds of Arrow House, let alone the building itself.”

Without even a muscle twitching, she reached into the pocket of her dress.

“I am to return this to you.”

The familiar invisible belt tightened around her chest as she stared at the letter she had written mere days before - untouched and unopened.

She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, to ease the strain in her chest, but nothing worked.

Out of options, she took the letter back, and watched Frances go, leaving her more lost than she had been upon her arrival.

Lost and confused and vulnerable.

Was this how it was going to be now?

I won’t survive long if it is.

Charlie still came and went, like it had been arranged. He ran up to her each time as fast as his ever growing legs could take him, and left dragging his feet.

Still, there was no word about Tommy, but when the next meeting for the foundation crept closer, she prepared herself for the conversation she would have, the question she had to ask, the answers she was willing to beg for - only he never came.

During the meeting she could barely focus on the plans and the numbers as she stared at the empty chair.

Once Polly closed the meeting, she rushed over to Lizzie.

“Lizzie, have you seen him?”, she asked.

She only pursed her lips.

“Please, tell me!”, she begged, her eyes beginning to burn. “I don’t know anything and he is avoiding me like I’ve got the plague.”

Like he hates me.

“I don’t know more than you do.”, she mumbled under her breath, putting out her cigarette.

“Are you really surprised he doesn’t want to see you?”, Polly Gray asked, smoke escaping her lips as her dark, hawkish eyes narrowed in on her.

They made her feel as small as a mouse and as weak too.

“No, but-”, she tried, only to break off when she saw Mrs Gray scoff.

“I just…I just really need to talk to him, please tell him that.”

The look the older woman gave her was a damning sentence.

She took it upon herself to talk to Father Callitch about the new initiatives, after all she had the closest ties to him and so she soon found herself sitting in his modest office with a cup of barely touched tea in front of her.

He listened ardently, nodding along and waiting until she had finished.

Even in their conversation after, his voice was calm and collected, just like it was when he asked her.

“We’ve all heard about your move, Mrs Hale.”, he said softly.

Those few words were enough to make her cheeks burn as she stared at her lap.

“But I couldn’t help but worry about the implications.”

You and me both, she thought.

“Are you alright?”, he wanted to know.

It was such a simple, foolish question and yet it brought tears to her eyes.

“Are you safe?”

(Y/N) (L/N) had always known how to hide her tears, but now her self discipline failed her.

Days of worry and nights without sleep, all the whispers and chatter and the doubt - the constant doubt had created cracks in her armour and she couldn’t contain it anymore.

The tears bubbled forth with mindless ramblings, as the priest moved around the desk to be closer to her.

“Lizzie and Ada think I ought to feel lucky, that this is a good thing and I suppose I ought to be grateful, but…but….I can’t, you see?”

Her voice cracked as tears blurred her vision.

“He won’t speak to me. He doesn’t want to see me. He - they all just expect me to do as they wish and continue but I can’t.”

(Y/N) looked up at him with the desperation of a little child.

“I can’t build a life on uncertainty!”, she insisted through sobs.

“It’s like trying to keep the balance on a tightrope knowing he could cut the string at any moment sending me and Emma crashing to the ground.”

Lizzie had tried to calm her by reminding her that the house was in her name but what did that really mean?

The priest had said it himself. Tommy Shelby can not be denied. If he put his mind to it, if he changed his mind, he could drop her and Emma and the fall would be further than from where he had raised them from.

Before, she had been a respectable woman, poor yes, but with a good name and a reputation as a hard and honest worker.

If she were to return now she’d be nothing but Tommy Shelby’s whore, worse - discarded whore - for the rest of her and Emma’s days.

No one would employ her. No one would spare her a second glance.

She had read up on the houses like the one she lived in now - Grace and Favour homes they called it.

What if she ever would be out of his favour?

And him refusing to even see or speak to her felt a lot like that.

Sobs shook her as she buried her face in her gloved hands, the tears soaking through the material as she was unable to steady herself.

The warmth of his hand spread through her shoulder until her tears had dried up and exhaustion had forced her to calm down.

Still, the priest stood steadfast.

“Do you still own your old house here?”, he asked.

She nodded, wiping under her eyes with the handkerchief he had offered her.

“I do, but I can’t come back here with Emma. Everyone here thinks I’m -”

“I know.”, he quickly interjected, not making her say it outright, which was a relief.

Slowly he nodded.

“Should the time come, I suggest you sell the house. You can sell it to the church. I’ll make sure it will be quick and easy. That way you will have some money. I can also write you a reference and help you find employment someplace else should it come to it.”

(Y/N) swallowed hard and took a shuddering breath.

“Would you really do that?”

“Of course I wouldn. Isn’t that the soul reason for people in my profession? To take care of those in her charge?”

Not in Small Heath it isn’t, (Y/N) thought.

But in these few moments he had given her more certainty than she could have hoped for, more than she got from Tommy or any of his family.

She arrived back at the house a little over an hour later, and once inside Lisa informed her that the children were out in the garden playing.

When she reached the terrace she could see them throwing a ball around. Here, they had far more space than they ever would have had in the courtyard in Small Heath.

(Y/N) allowed herself a moment to lean against the wall as she just watched them.

Charlie’s red cheeks and Emma’s flying braids, with nothing but their excited shouts in the air.

There were grass stains on both their clothes, but for once she didn’t think about scrubbing. She didn’t think at all, she just watched them, feeling the weight that had been lifted from her shoulders just by knowing that at least Father Callitch was on her side. Or that she wasn’t all alone.

It couldn’t be all bad, she thought, not if it made them so happy.

They threw the ball back and forth for a while until it slipped through Emma’s fingers and rolled in the vague direction of the house.

In her run to retrieve it, she looked up and noticed her standing there.

“Mummy!”, she cried out and continued to run, altering the direction just slightly.

(Y/N) opened her arms and walked towards them both, crouching down to be able to wrap her arms around them both, as Charlie wasn’t far behind Emma.

She held them both in her arms and leaned into them.

“I’m glad to be back.”, she whispered, before kissing both their foreheads.

With a child in each hand she walked back inside, hearing about all the adventures they had that day.

It continued all throughout dinner.

“Mummy,”, Emma asked between bites of potato.

“Hm?”, she asked.

“Since Charlie’s dad is back now, will he come live with us again?”, she wanted to know, before lifting her fork once more.

(Y/N) blinked twice.

Emma had said it so carelessly, without any hint of suspicion or worry.

She was still searching for a response to her daughter’s curiosity, when Charlie spoke up.

“He won’t.”, he said, glancing down at his plate.

“Why?”, Emma asked.

“Because!”, Charlie snapped a little too loud for (Y/N)’s taste.

“Alright now.”, she said, offering them both a warning wrapped in a smile, but as she directed the conversation away from Tommy, her eyes lingered on Charlie as her stomach coiled painfully once more.

Under the table she reached out and stroked his knee.

When he felt her touch, he looked up at her with wide eyes before curling his fingers around hers and clutching them tightly.

Her suspicion only grew when Charlie went from playing with the toy cars as she left the room to answer Lisa to lying on the sofa when she returned a few moments later.

He was lying on his back, both arms at his side, with his eyes closed.

“Come on Charlie.”, she told him, “It’s time to go home.”

He didn’t react.

And so (Y/N) walked over to the sofa and sat down, watching his chest rise and fall as he lay there stretched out like a pharaoh.

It was almost funny how hard he tried to stay still.

“I know you’re not asleep, Charlie.”, she told him softly.

He swallowed hard but still pretended not to.

She leaned her head against his chest and sighed, reaching up and stroking his forehead.

“You know I’ll have to carry you down if you won’t walk.”, she said.

That finally made him open his eyes.

“I don’t want to go.”, he whispered.

(Y/N) smiled sadly.

“I don’t want you to go either, but I can’t change it, Charlie.”

She could see the hope disappear in his eyes, which felt like dagger in her heart.

Children at that age still saw their parents as invincible, but she wasn’t Charlie’s parent. She couldn’t make the rules.

Instead she leaned up and pressed a lingering kiss to his forehead.

“Can you still carry me even if I’m awake?”, he asked, batting his eye lashes at her.

With a soft smile, she obliged him, feeling his legs wrap around her legs.

“Bye bye, Charlie!”, Emma said, waving at him.

He waved back, his head leaning against her shoulder before she took him down, carrying him all the way to the car.

“Another kiss?”, he asked as she sat him down inside.

Cupping his face she kissed him once more.

“Good night, my darling!”, she told him.

Frances was following with his coat and hat in her hands and as soon as the door closed she turned to her.

“Is everything alright, Frances?”, she wanted to know.

“Why would you ask that?”, she asked, tilting her head.

“I-I was just wondering if anything was amiss.”

The other woman didn’t react to that.

“If anything was wrong, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”, she asked, “for Charlie’s sake.”

She smiled once more and nodded slightly.

“Of course.”, she said, before she too disappeared in the car.

(Y/N) watched until the headlights disappeared, but the thought had anchored inside her mind long before.

She knew Frances was lying.

It was four days and only one visit of Charlie later, as the second one had been cancelled, when (Y/N) was torn from her restless sleep by Lisa shaking her.

The girl had only turned the bedside lamp, still wearing her nightgown, her long hair tamed in a side braid under a night cap.

“Wake up, Mrs Hale! Please, please wake up!”, she pleaded.

The urgency in her voice woke her more than the light or her touch did.

“What’s wrong?”, she demanded to know, her eyes not ready to focus yet, but her senses heightened all the same.

“Is something wrong with Emma?”

“No, not Emma.”, Lisa insisted, shaking her head.

Charlie.

The way from her bed to the telephone was a blur, and she only came to once she clutched the hearer so tight her knuckles turned white, answering the call that had torn Lisa from her sleep in the black of night.

“Mrs Hale!”, Frances said as soon as she heard her voice. “Thank God, I’ve reached you!”

Coming from a woman so polite and professional, breathlessness made goosebumps appear all over her arms.

“What happened?”, (Y/N) demanded to know.

Frances’ breath hitched before she gathered herself.

“There has been a situation at the house. Master Charles,”, she told her, her voice shaking,”Well, he snuck out and managed to steal one of the ponies.”

End of Part 18

Part 19

Thank you for reading! I’d be very grateful for feedback of any kind!

Taglist:

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @watercolorskyy @books-livre @chlorrox @quarterpastmidnight @lilyevanswhore @polishcrazyone @zablife @just-a-harmless-patato

Tommy Shelby Taglist:

@knowledgefulbutterfly @babayaga67 @signorellisantichrist @lespendy

TBITW Taglist:

@kaitebugg03 @esistmon @chlorrox @theshelbyslimited @budugu @woofgocows @orkwardx0 @judig92 @100percentamess @kabbuu @esposadomd @im-nowhere-but-also-somewhere @starsnsecrets @lady-loves-a-lot @katiepie67 @acoolnight @chaotic-onigiri @ohshititsfenharel @muhahaha303 @xoprincessmel @shittingonyourgrave @pessimisticbiitch @elisa20beth @simran-preet19 @majesticcmey @akiisbae @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @vodkainthecoffee @pearlstiare @jk-acc @cutecurly-hair @lovecleastrange @kishie8 @kirenia15 @burninggracesandbridges @nervousmumbling @babayaga67 @mbv2361 @pheitvsx @alessioayla @just-a-harmless-patato @globetrotter28 @lespendy @butterfly-skinnylegend

#the boy in the window #valentineswritings #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #Thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfic

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gaybatmanenthusiast · 7 months

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BREWING ROMANCE (oneshot)

(RON WEASLEY X MALE READER)

⋆★ word count : 562

⋆★ warnings : n/a

⋆★ summary : you and ron get paired in potions and then become friends ! maybe even something more

⋆★ extra : hp phase ??? yes. tomorrow tom riddle fics are coming in hot !!!!!!

The air in Professor Snape's Potions classroom was heavy with anticipation as he assigned a challenging potion to the students. Ron Weasley took the lead. However, it was (M/N)'s determination and eagerness to learn that caught Ron off guard. Impressed by his dedication, Ron found himself drawn to (M/N)'s presence.

As they worked side by side, their cauldrons bubbling with the intricate mixture, they exchanged tips and insights, easing the complexity of the task. Ron couldn't help but notice the way (M/N)'s eyes sparkled with excitement and the intensity he brought to every step of the process.

—

During a break from their potion brewing, Ron's excitement spilled over as he mentioned an upcoming Quidditch match. To his surprise, (M/N)'s eyes lit up, and he revealed his love for the sport, having played for his previous school. Ron's heart raced with newfound admiration.

"D’you wanna come and watch the match together?" Ron blurted out, unable to contain the excitement of having found someone who shared his passion.

(M/N)'s smile widened. "I'd love to! Let's support Gryffindor together!"

—

As they cheered on their favorite players from the stands, the rush of adrenaline and shared thrill of the game drew Ron and (M/N) closer. Their conversations during the match became a blend of insightful strategy and playful banter. The more time they spent together, the more Ron felt the magnetic pull of their connection.

Post-match discussions became a regular occurrence, filled with animated debates on plays and analyzing team tactics. They laughed, argued, and bonded over their shared love for Quidditch. Ron found himself looking forward not only to Gryffindor's matches but also to the moments they would spend together.

—

As the seasons passed, their friendship deepened. Ron's protective nature emerged, and (M/N)'s unwavering support became an anchor in his life. Hidden beneath the surface, however, were blossoming romantic feelings that seemed to grow stronger with each match they attended together.

Stolen glances during intense moments, lingering touches during celebrations, and the occasional accidental brush of hands sent electricity through their veins. They became inseparable, spending precious moments outside of Quidditch matches, exploring the castle and getting lost in each other's company.

Navigating the complexities of young love and the demands of school life presented its own set of challenges. Ron and (M/N) found themselves learning to separate their studies from their yearning hearts. They supported each other through late-night study sessions, offering encouragement and helping find a balance between academic responsibilities and their blossoming romance.

Despite the pressures, their shared love for Quidditch remained a constant thread that wove their relationship together. Cheering side by side, shouting themselves hoarse as they celebrated Gryffindor's triumphs, they discovered a new depth to their bond.

—

Ron and (M/N)'s love story soared on the wings of the Gryffindor team's triumphs and defeats. Their relationship became an open secret among their friends, who watched their connection with knowing smiles. With Quidditch as their foundation, they navigated the twists and turns of Hogwarts life, their shared experiences and growing love weaving them together.

As they celebrated their time at Hogwarts, Ron and (M/N) looked forward to a future where their love would thrive beyond the magical walls. Together, they embraced the adventures yet to come, with Quidditch continuing to be a symbol of their enduring love and shared memories.

#ron weasly x reader #ron weasley x male reader #male reader #writers on tumblr #x male reader #x reader #ron weasley #harry potter #hp #hp fandom

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good-beanswrites · 22 days

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My last post made me want to spin the ballet au to suit the general cast, keeping Es as the protagonist 🩰

I don't have art for this one but I still got a bit carried away with the details LOL This definitely leans more into a sweet fix-it :3

The story would open with Es waking up in the medical room of Milgram Dance Academy, a very small and isolated school. Es is told they suffered a bad head injury during a performance, resulting in amnesia. Their instructor (Jackalope. Make this work however you wish.) tells them not to worry about it, and to focus on their dancing for now. Es feels a pressing responsibility to stay and rehearse, so they agree.

Jackalope tells them they must understudy several roles while recovering, not ready to jump into things right away. They're grateful, since they're struggling with their identity and expression without their memories.

The first student they are directed to is a shy and lanky dancer by the name of Haruka. They study under him as the role of a graceful, melancholic swan. They watch the choreography in general, and it looks nice enough. Es proceeds to spend several rehearsals with him, talking and bonding and learning he has a bit more going on than meets the eye. They try to offer help as he admits to familial issues, self esteem questions, and comments about sibling jealousy. In turn, he teaches Es to mimic some of his powerful emotions. At the end of their time together, they both perform for their class in full costume and staging. Now, Es understands each move with a deeper understanding than their initial look at the steps.

Next, they’re sent to meet the bubbly girl playing Juliet and begin the process anew. This continues to make a total of ten roles. Some of the dancers take the sessions kindly, while others are brash, secretive, or just confusing.

After rehearsing with Kotoko and learning to understand her determination and confidence, Es is sent back to Haruka, who has moved onto a new show and new role. They’re shocked to discover that their words to each dancer – always well-intentioned – had caused some issues backstage. Now, there are rivalries and changes in stage presence. While experiencing stress (that Es has inadvertently caused,) some were distracted in rehearsal and got injured. Es must take on the interpersonal issues as well as the choreography challenges.

I don’t have all the roles down and was trying to stick to well-known shows anyway, but I think I’d want Muu to be the Sugar Plum Fairy, Kazui to be Albrecht from Giselle, and Amane to be Clara. I wanted to keep them traditionally gendered to prove there are plenty of roles for men, but I can’t help but have Odette/Odile thoughts for T1 Mikoto ;-;

Like the other post, I'm equally tempted to have the dancers performing ballet adaptations of the mvs 👀 I want to see. Bee tutu. Doctor coat costume. Marching band tutu. AKAA mismatched look. The backgrounds. The music. The choreo. So many cool possibilities...

As a sweet au, it all ends with everyone better for having met one another. Es is cast in a solo performance, combining everything they've learned both emotionally and technically from the others. They feel satisfied with their sense of identity, and shine onstage ✨️✨️✨️

#milgram #es #plus the whole cast lol #ballet aus my beloved!!!!#is jackalope human? does he teach ballet on his lil bunny paws? you decide 👍#oh albrecht is the guy giselle falls in love with but when his true identity is revealed she dies/kills herself of heartbreak ;--; jsyk ;--#if anyone has any casting ideas lmk 👀 these were off the top of my head but i can definitely look for fitting roles for everyone #unlike the other au i dont picture any murder equivalents here -- they still have their flaws and everything but no ones gotten hurt #both these aus require a school full of other dancers but im picturing the milgram cast as es' specific class they spend all his time with #and since the other students are the audience i guess that means you all are part of my au 😌 welcome to dance school 😌#you could probably combine 05/06 or 06/07 as romeo and juliet while going through their respective lovers issues #when amane plays clara i want fuuta as her drosselmeyer :3 (both for sweet reasons and. eyepatch.)#i had the bulk of this jotted down for so long - its nice to finish the art and clean up the phrasing to post!#dropping this while i reboot my brain from my trip... i shall return soon ;-;

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tetsunabouquet · 10 months

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Pertinent to the request I sent earlier; Could you write a scenario where Akashi tells his S/O about his DID and how it came about? And maybe also about the associated negative feelings? I'm sorry that's a bit too specific. xd I'd really like some Akashi angst right now. :'D

It was a calm day and his father had allowed him a free day; that he was using to be with you. He was laying in the garden, his head on your lap as you read his favorite novel out loud to him. He relaxed at hearing your voice. It had became a favorite pasttime of his, to lay back and enjoy you reading to him. He tried to relax, but something was nagging at the back of his mind. His other self. The Emperor inside of him, had a tendency to get restless when he was relaxing. Because the Emperor inside of him hated his free days. It was the antithesis to his existence, to have peace and to have no pressure to do anything. He could relax, most of the time, but sometimes, an irritated grumble from his other self would bubble through his mind and he'd tense up for a moment. Something you noticed. "What's wrong Sei?" You asked softly, closing the book and laid it at the other side of your lap. Knowing better then to lie to you, Akashi sighed. "I don't really know the best way to start." "Take a deep breath, I'll wait for however it takes for you to formulate that answer." You instructed playfully. This, was one of the things he loved best about you. How you could support him and bring a smile to his face with the most beautifully soft expression on your face that showed just how much you loved him. "You remember, my other personality, right?" He asked cautiously. You nodded, stroking his hair. "Is he bothering you?" "Not really, it's just that I feel there's this restless piece in the back of my mind that I'm sure is him. He cannot stand it when I relax." Akashi explained, glad he could talk about it with you. His father was a way different story, but you always listened and would confide any stories of your own regarding the subject in an attempt to make him feel less alone. And you were listening, biting your lip. "I suppose this is the part where I say, why do you think that is?" He took another deep breath, it felt like he had to gather all the energy in his body to answer your question, "It's because of how he was born." "You mean, the reason why you got sick?" You asked, wanting to be absolutely clear. You didn't wanted to be confused by a topic this important. Akashi's feelings mattered deeply to you, and so did his health; in every form. Akashi closed his eyes, not being able to bear the world as he dared to open up for the first time, "It was just after my mother died, you know? My father put me under so much pressure and it was as if I could feel my mind beginning to crack, and split. The Captain duties at Teiko took so much of me too, that when I nearly lost to Murasakibara, he emerged. My mind has created him to protect me against failure, and to always succeed. But he's an Emperor, who always feels like he has to do something. Relaxing like this is something he'd seldomly allow himself to participate in. He cannot handle us just laying about like this." He confessed everything, and it truly felt like a weight was lifted from his shoulders. "But Sei, that makes total sense. You were pushed to your absolute limit with no remorse, anyone's mind would shatter! Especially someone as vulnerable as a kid. I'm so sorry your dad's such a dick." You said, sincerely angry on his behalf. Akashi let out a small chuckle, feeling grateful he had a wonderful girlfriend who was as understanding as you. "But can I please tell Emperor-tan to let us enjoy our time? If he continues to bother me on our dates, he should better come out right now. I still need to kick his ass for threatening Nana-Chan anyway." You challenged and he grinned weakly in response. "Well, you should know he's not scared of you." "I don't care! He should better bring his A game, because I won't surrender easily! I will not stop until he cowers at my feet and leaves us be." You declared and he laughed softly. Going through grief, trauma and mental illness was a difficult journey and for sure a rollercoaster of emotions but with you that rollercoaster always ended at a positive note. He would thank you for being his rock, until his dying day.

#knb #kuroko's basketball #akashi #akashi seijuro #knb x reader #akashi seijuro x reader #akashi x reader #mental health #emperor akashi

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noyasaur · 4 months

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how can i fully believe shifting is real? i know it is but the idea of waking up in a whole different reality seems not real to me ifykwim

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

hi! there's many ways to help you to fully believe in shifting and normalise the belief more inside your mind. it just takes time and repetition! it's no wonder that we can doubt about reality shifting, especially when we've been taught otherwise our whole lives. i completely get we're you're coming from, but luckily it can be combatted.

however, it is important to note that you can shift with doubts/not fully believing in it! doing these things just makes the journey and process a little less uncomfortable and draining.

also be prepared for another long response (i am so sorry, i love writing and i always have sm to say ughhdhd 😭)

🪐 HOW TO FULLY BELIEVE IN REALITY SHIFTING?

first of all, some of the first things i always like to recommend is to research shifting. do a whole deep dive on reality shifting on possible theories, scientific concepts behind it, the spirituality aspect of it, our consciousness, law of assumption, multiverse vs consciousness theory, the many worlds theory, scientific theories and hypothesises on other universes, success stories, etc. anything that you can find on reality shifting that will help you make it real to you, if you're really committed to making yourself believe in reality shifting. find beliefs that resonate with YOU and form your own theories and concept behind reality shifting. if you want to read more of an explanation on researching and validating your beliefs, i suggest this post where i explain this -> here (my response to 'can you prove reality shifting')

make it a challenge for yourself: find a way to make reality shifting real to you and challenge against yourself. the idea of waking up in a whole different reality doesn't seem real to you? how can you make it real to you. question, how IS IT REAL? and research to answer it. discover your own answers and truths.

if you're looking for some good resources to start with to research reality shifting, i recommend this post i made awhile ago (here) and of course, REALITYSHIFTER101's blog post on TOTAL SHIFTING SCIENCE (or -> here). it's seriously such a good resource and singlehandedly strengthened my belief behind shifting.

or even research and look at people's stories of other practices/experiences, similar to reality shifting (not the same, just in the same bubble as it. in the same way how reality shifting can be hard to believe as it is for astral projection and hearing all these crazy stories about NDES and reality glitches iykwim). like lucid dreaming, astral projection, persistent realms. reincarnation or past-life stories/near-death experiences. stories about reality glitches, parallel reality shifts, the mandela effect. these things aren't the same but reading about these things and other possibilities can help open your mind to things like these.

additionally, if you're set on truly making yourself fully believe in reality shifting, then only consume positive things about shifting. consume content and media that will make you feel good about reality shifting and help you strengthen your beliefs. no point in going out and finding content against and hating on reality shifting. and if you happen to come across this kind of content, simply just block.

another thing you could so is reprogram your mind or change your mindset. although i don't think it's necessary to reprogram your mind, some people are more suited to these kinds of methods. it helps to eliminate any limiting beliefs or doubts about shifting and rewire your subconscious beliefs.

below, i'll link some posts on how to reprogram your mind. reya signh is a popular shifttoker/shifting content creator who created one of the methods below on how to reprogram your mind and is commonly used in the shifting community. the other post is another method of reprogramming your mind which i thought was pretty good too. and of course, there are plenty of other ways to reprogram your mind (e.g. self-hypnosis, meditations, affirmation tapes, etc.)

reya's method: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wOi-dAi9-Xo

reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/shiftingrealities/comments/n2jjdb/how_to_reprogram_your_subconscious_for_reality/

🪐 THINGS THAT HAVE HELPED ME!

below are things i have done to help me fully believe in reality shifting and have less doubts. in my experience, personally doing these things have worked for me and maybe they might work for you too!

a ) law of assumption/improving self-concept: changing my internal assumptions and dominant thoughts of what shifting is and my shifting abilities, thus these assumptions have reflected in my 3D physical reality. changing your internal state -> changing the 3D. for example, if i consistently assume that reality shifting is real, and then i internalise this and accept that this is true, i change my internal state and so does my reality. persistence if the key for law of assumption. switch up your mindset.

b ) affirmations: constantly repeating affirmations on reality shifting and my abilities. things like, "reality shifting is real," "reality shifting is so easy and effortless for me," "i always reality shift on every attempt," "reality shifting is completely normal," "i reality shift everyday," etc. you get the idea. you could always set a time during the day where you listen to hype music while repeating these to yourself, committing yourself to repeat affirmations over and over to yourself whenever you have a doubt, setting a certain symbol and then repeating affirmations whenever you see that symbol (e.g. whenever you see a cat, you repeat so-and-so affirmations to yourself ten times).

or even making affirmation tapes can help which can easily be done with text-to-speech programs. write out a bunch of affirmations and then put it through a text-to-speech program and download it as an mp3. you can speed up the audio, put music over it, put it on low volume, or listen to it over music. listen to it while you do your everyday tasks and even if you don't even notice the tape playing, your subconscious mind will still be digesting all your affirmations. or you could listen to self-concept subliminals on reality shifting.

c ) just thinking about your desired reality/reality shifting: sit there, relax, and think about reality shifting. think about other realities, your other selves. even though the idea seems so far-fetched and otherworldly, reality shifting is normal.

don't put shifting on a pedestal! it's seriously just another normal thing we can do and i truly mean this. think about the things you'll be doing in other realities and compare it to this reality. think about all the possibilities. think about all the mundane, boring things you would be doing in your desired reality. realise that you've always existed in your desired realities and are existing in other realities right now as we speak. you're just not currently aware of it.

treat reality shifting as a casual thing. not something of an otherworldly power.

think about all the possibilities in the world and other 'otherworldly' things that are possible. this reality, the universe and it's infinite realities is so vast and beyond anything we can even comprehend.

d ) reading success stories: an obvious one. success stories are really the only proof we have of reality shifting, along with experience it for ourselves (yet).

e ) try and shift yourself: just try shifting. whether it's to your desired reality or even a small reality change. try and shift to a reality where it's exactly the same as this reality except for a small change, like for example, the colour of your bed sheets or walls. dive into it with full confidence. forget 'logic' and leave your doubts behind. set your intention, have confidence and trust in yourself, and just shift! or even try and manifest something (because manifesting and shifting are practically the same yk)

you can do any of these things to help you slowly start to for you to fully believe in reality shifting. it may take time and effort for you to be able to start believing in reality shifting, so be prepared for that. however, use your intuition and do whatever you believe will help you in the long run.

you got this!

sorry for such a long post, i need to cut down on the length of my responses😭 i feel like i ramble too much and i just have so much on my mind so i hope this wasn't too messy to read! anywho, i hope this somehow helped and i'm sorry if my advice wasn't very good 😭😭

good luck on your journey 💗💗

- saturn ♡

#shiftblr #shifting #reality shifting #desired reality #shifting realities #reality shifter #shifting blog #desired realities #noyasaur #shifting community #ask saturn💌#🪐 ― saturn's shifting advice!

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