#did you know that so far i have found at least 4-5 authors who could have been queer included in the olevels poetry anthology

[queerbaitingshouldbeillegal]

okay so WHY did no one tell me that Shakespeare could have been bi and WHY did i need to find this out in the middle of making literature notes.

[tin-wufborf]

Tin's Favorite Sterek Fics (Part 7)

Howdy! Welcome to part 7! I'm happy you're here! Thank you all again for showing this series the love and support you all have. I appreciate you all so much, and I hope you're all finding new favorites to add to your own collections.

Apologies for the delay in getting this part to you. To be honest, it's just been too fucking hot for me lately, so I've been spending less time at my computer and more time splayed out, letting the wind blow upon me. I'm a spicy bitch on an average day, but it's been 100+ degrees here on average for the past week and a half with the heat is showing no signs of going away anytime soon. So there may end up being bigger gaps between updates (like the one you just experienced) than I maintained previously. Fair warning.

Okay, that's all from me today. Let's get into, lovelies!

Smoochies and squeezies!

List and link to previous/next part(s) below the cut.

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DISCLAIMER: This is me warning you all that some of the fics I've included in this list may cover explicit, dark, and/or "taboo" subject matters. I cannot express enough how little I care what anyone thinks about any of that; all I want is for you to use caution when reading anything I've listed here and to please review and heed whatever tags the authors have provided in order to keep yourselves safe. Your experience from this point on is your own responsibility, not mine and not the authors'.

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20

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and the questions of heaven, for a sinner like me by doxa (G | 1/1 | 1,346)

“I'm Loki, son of Laufey,” Stiles chants. “And I'm going to burn down the world.”

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many beacons in the sea by orphan_account (T | 1/1 | 1,479)

Stiles has known all his life that he’s not like other kids. He’s special.

“It’s alright, love,” his mom says, leaning over him at night when he can’t sleep because his legs hurt so bad. “Just let it hurt.”

She kisses his forehead. He dreams of the sea. They go to the beach that weekend.

*

Stiles is a siren. He’s an anomaly, until he isn’t.

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Now when we're old by orphan_account (NR | 1/1 | 2,431)

Stiles' skin was soft, the years passing making it worn and thin; his bones brittle and fragile. He was still the man they all knew, but older. Derek's hair was grey and white now, his beard more straggle than stubble. His whole life could be read on his face, almost like a map, outlining his joys and tears.

We all know how their lives together began, but how did it end.

Believe it or not the ending is kinda happy.

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the secrets in our blood by orphan_account (T | 1/1 | 5,433)

//He’d never meant for it to go this far.

He really, honest to god hadn't. Like, okay, it's not like he'd expected a long life, but he'd at least hoped he'd have gotten the hell away from Beacon Hills before they found him.//

or, the one where Stiles is a demon and the same hunters who killed his mother (also a demon) find him.

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Wolf Cub by moodwriter (E | 1/1 | 6,946)

A strange wolf is not supposed to touch another pack’s cub and that’s why, on a rescue mission, it’s Stiles’ job to take care of the wolf cub who’s curious about everything and everyone. Stiles is not used to werewolf children, and the pack is not used to Stiles taking care of a child. Their Alpha gets very confused about this, too.

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The Dark Spark by Reia (E | 1/1 | 7,014)

He knows that Stiles is speaking to his wolf, to that animal inside that thrums with the need to maim and kill and take, take, take and he really shouldn't allow it, he shouldn't.

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but couldn't good be good enough by lazulisong (G | 1/1 | 8,044)

"His dad is probably going to tell Stiles not to hang out with us," says Boyd, taking a sip of his Coke.

Isaac gives Derek an utterly betrayed look, and Erica glares at him. "I told you not to wear those sunglasses!" she hisses.

"What if Stiles can't hang out with us any more?" says Isaac wretchedly. "What if Scott doesn't want to hang out with us because --"

"I said those were pedophile sunglasses!" says Erica, in a quiet, piercing whisper that makes Derek's ears hurt.

Boyd continues eating his gyro, which he has laid out on a plate like a salad on a piece of flatbread, methodically picking out the tomatoes, feta and lamb and laying them to the side to eat after the lettuce. Boyd would eat his gyro if there was a bomb going off.

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The House in the Middle by afullrevolution (2 works | G-T | 8,569)

1. Battle not with monsters (T | 3/3 | 7,590) Stiles laughed. Laughed because he understood what Nietzsche had been writing about. Because hunters were clearly monsters for all they claimed to battle them. Because Stiles had looked into the abyss and the abyss was staring straight back. 2. To Grandmother's House We Go (G | 1/1 | 979) There were always going to be repercussions for everyone involved, and then some.

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Hell to Raise by Mosca (E | 1/1 | 12,543)

Stiles is the last in a long line of pagan priests. Of course, the god in question is a sarcastic trickster who mostly just wants him to get laid. Of course.

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No Oceans Left by zoemathemata (T | 1/1 | 14,207)

Stiles has always been a merman. He just never knew how to tell anyone. He hasn’t shifted since his mom died.

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Hand of the Devil by shiny_starlight (M | 1/1 | 14,669)

For years, Hale and his family had escaped justice, but the day of reckoning had come. His comfortable life was about to come crashing down about his ears and Adrian was going to relish every single second of it.

Mob!AU. Derek is the head of the Hale Family, and Detective Adrian Harris is determined to bring him to justice, whatever means necessary.

Warning: Contains past!non-cannonical character death and non graphic description of injuries. Contains cannon character death.

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Do What I Dare series by FunkyinFishnet (3 works | T-M | 15,532)

Stiles has always known he prefers to wear women's clothing. He learns that the people who matter want him to be happy too.

1. Make No Conditions (M | 1/1 | 8,557) Stiles has always known that he prefers wearing female clothing, but not many people in his life know. He makes friends with drag queens, goes shopping with Lydia and Allison, and tries to work out if and when he can ever tell Derek about his wardrobe. Will Derek want all of him? Of course, it turns out that Lydia is right all along, about everything. 2. Get A Little Outta Line (M | 1/1 | 4,444) Stiles talks down a rival pack's Alpha, tells his Dad about werewolves, is confronted by Chris Argent, and communicates enjoyably without words with Derek. It's pretty awesome altogether. 3. Scent Of A Woman And A Man (T | 1/1 | 2,531) Stiles and his Mom love perfume. Stiles carries that love into his teenage years and once he and Derek become close, he finds he's not the only one obsessed with scents.

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Actual Puppy Derek Hale by Wrennefer (Wrenegadeone) (T | 1/1 | 18,162)

Derek didn't know what was worse: the hunters, being trapped as a wolf, being hit by a car, or the fact that he had somehow become some kid's pet dog for the unforeseeable future.

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Der Yingl fun Erd un Blitz (The Boy of Earth and Lightning) by sofonisba_found (T | 3/3 | 18,741)

Miriam and John Stilinski had always wanted to have children. But when her illness prevented her from giving birth, and every conventional alternative option to raise a child was denied to them, they had to look for an...unconventional method. One that would give them a child that was himself far from ordinary in so many ways.

And soon after, in the town of Beacon Hills, a young werewolf named Derek begins to notice the scent of something different from anything he had ever known before in the air...

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Certain and Unsure series by dedougal (2 works | M-E | 20,475)

1. Make It Up As We Go Along (E | 1/1 | 11,388) Stiles was not expecting to find a baby on the kitchen table at Derek's. Not at all. 2. Left to Trust (M | 1/1 | 9,087)

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With The Hush of My Lips, I Wholly Confound The Skeptic by Unknown (M | 6/6 | 27,249)

My contribution to the Teen Wolf Big!Big:

It’s honestly his dad’s worst nightmare.

And it’s not like the doctors never told them that it could be hereditary, what his mother died of. They had. It’s just, after such a tragic thing like her dying had happened, they hadn’t thought anything could ever be worse.

Until they had found that stupid abnormality in Stiles’ stomach.

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The Importance of Turning Around Three Times Before Lying Down by otter (T | 10/10 | 30,493)

It’s like this dog has walked out of all of Stiles’ childhood dreams and into the real world just because Stiles wanted it hard enough. He is the most awesome dog ever, and he and Stiles have a bond. A deep, unbreakable bond because this animal is his soul mate, obviously. Now he just has to convince the dog of that.

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Of Love and Fairness series by JTHM_Michi (4 works | G-T | 38,833)

Life isn't fair and sometimes when people mean well they react without knowing all the facts. Families are a deep cavern of secrets and lies and the Stilinski family isn't different than any other. When the Alpha Pack came to Beacon Hills, they brought death with them and in the fallout, Stiles was kicked out and his father got a new child and a new wife. This is a story about life and family and all the hard things from both. Alls fair in love and war?

1. We Meet Again (T | 1/1 | 16,320) When Stiles was 17, the Sheriff kicked him out because the Alpha Pack was getting to be too dangerous for the newest additions to the Stilinski household. Now, eleven years later, Stiles is about to come face to face with his once kid step-sister and be forced to deal with this fact. Is it possible to forgive and forget? 2. But With A Whimper (G | 1/1 | 6,704) Rebecca Stilinski learns to deal with the reveal that her father simply isn't the person she grew up thinking he was. And how is it possibly fair that Stiles can have this wonderful life and his father still condemns him as some sort of shady character from a crime drama? The sequel to 'We Meet Again'. 3. Magic Musings (G | 1/1 | 6,274) Lydia has made for herself a perfect life. She has a degree from MIT, has won a Fields Metal, has gotten married to Jackson, and has a career where people call her ‘Dr. Martin’ with complete sincerity. She has a large extended family of friends and is a godmother to her best friend’s daughter and has two little boys who call her ‘Auntie’. Her life is perfect – sure, she and Jackson go through rough patches and sometimes her bills stress her out – but overall she has a good life. She never thought her wonderful life would involve Stiles as her quasi brother with Scott as their goofy younger brother (never mind that Lydia is actually the youngest) but life is strange that way. 4. Look The Other Way (G | 5/5 | 9,535) The small snippets from my "Of Love and Fairness" verse, including but not limited to: The original confrontation between Stiles and his father over the Sheriff's abandonment of Stiles in the past; A small glimpse of Derek and Stiles' wedding; and a meeting between Lydia and the Sheriff. And really anything else from this verse that I wrote that didn't make it into any of the bigger pieces. It would be better to read the other parts of this verse before this one.

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Dirty paws and furry coats by queerly_it_is (E | 1/1 | 57,621)

Stiles is eight years old when his dad brings Derek home.

[AU based on Disney's The Fox and the Hound]

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Indelible Marks by billtheradish (M | 87/87 | 275,695)

The house never burned. The pack is strong. Derek will never need to be the alpha, and his sister is a troll. (Actually, most of his family is like that.)

Derek is an apprentice tattoo artist, and Stiles isn't old enough to get ink of his own yet. But that doesn't stop him from being interesting...

(This story is now out of buffer, but I will always announce when the next update will be, and am trying to keep to a regular posting schedule. Also, please be advised that this is essentially a rough draft. That doesn't mean it's riddled with typos, every chapter is edited, just that the overarching plot and side stories haven't had a chance to be edited in full yet--but they will be. An edited version of this story will be posted eventually, so if the current length isn't your cup of tea, just come back later.)

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[heesdreamer]

omg can u do a story thats like summer fling comes to ur school and interrupts what u had going on with ur current situationship something like that i saw a smau like this and a long fic with ur writing will really just be *chefs kiss*

GIVE UP ON ME

PAIRING ➩ heeseung x reader

SUMMARY ➩ you’re moved back to your hometown and finally moving on from your toxic 4 year long relationship with your highschool sweetheart heeseung when you get the email that the 5 year reunion is approaching

WC ➩ 8k

WARNINGS ➩ mentions of sex and death, extremely toxic relationship between yn and hee, not cheating but sorta shady, just a ton of angst

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ written at 5 am not proofread yadada same stuff as always! slightly strayed from what the request suggest but i like it so hope you do too

It wasn’t like you had necessarily planned to stay in your hometown post your eventual graduation.

In fact, like almost everybody else your age that you’d spoken to about it, you couldn’t wait to be old enough to get out of where you’d grown up. To leave behind the familiar neighborhoods and the memories wrapped around every tree and building, you’d be in a new place as a new adult who could conquer the world.

You did eventually leave, following the crowd of students a few states over to the nearest large city and it wasn’t that you particularly didn’t like it, it wasn’t all too bad.

But it only took two years of constant bustling city life, your office job that stretched you past your limit and didn’t pay you nearly enough, and the overly expensive fees and bills for your apartment that was basically a walk in closest, before you were calling it quits and moving back to what was familiar.

Your parents had been delighted that you’d returned, living with them for about a year before you turned 24 and your ego couldn’t handle it. You longed for that feeling of freedom and maturity you’d found by having your own apartment and soon enough you were finding a place not too far from where you’d grown up.

As it turns out, you weren’t the only person who had either stayed or moved back home either. Knowing at least two dozen friends or classmates who were now adults and working throughout your city.

This comforted you for a number of reasons. It was nice to see their faces and have people you were familiar with but you also couldn’t help feeling disappointed in your self when you made the decision to come home, slightly embarrassed you couldn’t handle the demanding life of the big city like you’d wanted to. So seeing others in a similar boat helped you understand you weren’t apart of the minority here.

Currently you were sat with one of these old classmates inside a half flower shop half cafe, watching him race around as he tried to fulfill online orders.

“Technology is going to be the downfall of small business.” Sunghoon was complaining for about the sixth time since you’d gotten there, shaking his head and groaning when his long blond hair fell in his face again.

“Soon you’re going to need a hairnet if you keep that up.” You were commenting from your table, back leaned against the wall as you played with your empty coffee cup.

Sunghoon and you hadn’t been friends in high school, almost the opposite actually. You frequently had relationship drama with one of his best friends and he was a jock on the football team who was far too concerned with girls he could actually hook up with to ever acknowledge you as a human being.

It was a pleasant, although confusing, surprise when you’d stumbled upon a new adorable little shop while going to the grocery store and walked in to see Park Sunghoon himself, in a little pink apron and he greeted customers enthusiastically.

His face had dropped when he’d saw you, faltering slightly like he was embarrassed before you smiled and casually asked him what the best drink on the menu is.

Thus a friendship finally bloomed between the two of you and you spent almost every break sat in this exact place, even coming on your off days to help him maintain orders and the plants as he started to gain more and more traction.

“I could get a haircut if Jay could make some time for me.” He was scoffing and shaking his long hair again.

Almost on cue, the bell above the door was ringing and you glanced over to see Park Jay entering casually, looking over towards Sunghoon with a raised eyebrow when he just barely caught a whisper of the end of his sentence.

“Are you complaining about me being busy again?” Jay was sighing and approaching the counter after giving you a small wave in greeting. He didn’t need to tell Sunghoon his order, just passing him his card with the knowledge that he already knew.

Jay was here almost as frequently as you, maybe more so considering his salon was only two doors down in the small strip mall. He was also somebody you had known from high school although you didn’t really remember him much, your school being overly large and populated.

Sunghoon had told you once, the first day Jay had walked in at the same time as you and you commented on his familiarity, that they had run in the same circle back in school but Jay was absent from their parties or football activities a lot more often, hence why you most likely couldn’t exactly place his face to anything specific.

“Does he know me then?” You had asked him, muttering a small thanks when he passed you your ice coffee.

“Do you mean does he know that you used to hook up with our team captain after every practice?” Sunghoon was raising an eyebrow and taking the empty seat across from you. “Yeah Y/N, he knows.”

Sunghoon was referring to the exact reason you and him hadn’t been friends in high school.

Lee Heeseung was somebody you’d spent many years trying to rid yourself of, both thought wise and the terrible reputation you’d been given just by being seen in his vicinity more than a dozen times.

Heeseung had been the captain of the football team which, in true cliche high school form, had meant he basically ran the school in terms of power and popularity. He wasn’t exactly the worst person to have this position considering his personality, he was nice to almost everybody and hilarious without meaning to be, but he was still Lee Heeseung.

You’d known of him before anything ever happened between the two of you of course, growing up together considering neither one of you ever switched districts or moved to one of the rival schools.

Still you weren’t necessarily falling high on the popularity scale, sticking to your group of friends and never bothering to join any extracurriculars that took up your precious after school time.

So it was particularly confusing that he had noticed you, and noticed was a small word for it.

Your friends had forced you along to the first game of the season despite your complaints, not caring for sports especially ones that required you to sit in a cold metal bench while freezing your ass off. Still, you subjected to their pleads and demands and found yourself begrudgingly entering the football fields gated concession area.

Almost immediately you’d been stopped by a boy, taking a second of scanning him to realize who it was underneath all that gear and face paint. Lee Heeseung was removing his helmet and shaking his messy hair to give it back some volume, offering you a toothy smile as you raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Cheerleader section is over there.” Had been the first words out of his mouth and judging by the gleam in his big eyes, he had figured that to be a pretty good pick up line.

He has faltered slightly in his confidence however when you glanced down at your sweatpants and large sweater, looking back to meet his eyes with an unimpressed stare as you leaned back slightly.

“Do I look like I’m here to cheerlead?” You mumbled, although you’d realized he was trying to sweet talk you, you still didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of an awkward laugh or you thanking him.

Your friends had come back from getting their hot dogs and drinks then, not realizing who exactly you were speaking to before they were grabbing your arms and excitedly making their way over to pick a good seat in the bleachers, leaving you to spare Heeseung a look over your shoulder and shrug when you saw him standing dumbfounded.

You hadn’t thought much about it while waiting for the game to officially start, knowing it was probably a one off encounter. Heeseung had a known habit of flirting with everything and anyone that moved, all genders included, and you didn’t think it was something you needed to care about for more than 20 minutes.

He was quickly proving you wrong however once the starting whistle was ringing out and he was immediately finding you in the stands. Every time he made a successful pass or scoring a touchdown, he was looking towards you in the crowd and shooting you a smile or a thumbs up.

It took about an hour for your friends to realize who he was looking at and you spent the rest of the game listening to their squeaks of excitement as they shook your shoulders, paired with the glared of jealously others were giving you once they also caught on to who it was that had caught their football captains attention.

Despite your best attempts to keep rejecting him, Heeseung’s efforts to woo you got more and more intense and eventually you were playing into them in return.

This lead you into four years of near disaster, entering a rocky relationship, if you could ever call it that, that was mainly you breaking up every few days followed by makeup sex that you never told anybody about. It wasn’t necessarily a secret considering everybody knew about your situationship but neither one of you would ever confirm it, brushing off questions or assumptions.

You never dated officially but everybody knew you were together, although this never stopped girls and guys from trying to get with Heeseung. As far as you knew he never took the bait, remaining faithful to you and your arrangement although he had no reason to ever honor this silent code of monogamy.

You imagine the football team had gotten the most inside scoop out of the rest of the school, often seeing you and Heeseung arguing in the parking lot after practice or you walking away with tear filled eyes just to return a few days later kissing him and glued to his side with a bright smile.

Things were messy but you were happy to be around him during the good times, both of you at fault when things got rocky. He didn’t treat you bad necessarily, you just weren’t good for each other but too obsessed to ever let go or move on. That didn’t mean there wasn’t times where you’d sit in bed and wish it was over, hovering over the send button on the break up message you’d formulated just to delete it for the 100th time.

Then Heeseung was offered a sports scholarship to a university in America and things were over just like that.

It was a bit more complicated considering the nights you spent crying together, curled up on his twin mattress or the arguments you had that left him storming out and slamming doors. But regardless, it was the official end to your four years of trying to make it work.

“What are you thinking about so intensely?” Jay’s smooth voice was breaking you from your trip down memory lane as he took the seat next to you, watching you with a concerned frown. “Is it the reunion?”

“Am I the only one who thinks a five year reunion is a little bit overkill? Half of us are still the exact same.” Sunghoon was adding on from behind the counter and you sighed.

They were referring to the fact that earlier this week, school president Yang Jungwon had sent a mass email to all ex students announcing he was throwing a five year reunion party at your old school, right here in your hometown.

“Yeah Hoon, like anyone would’ve guessed you’d become Mr. Flower Boy.” Jay was shaking his head and turning back to look at you with that same expression. “I really doubt he’s going to be there. He’s a super busy guy these days.”

“Why would she care if he’s going or not?” Sunghoon was chiming in again before you could and you sighed in irritation.

“She can speak you know.” You gave him a warning glance and he mimicked zipping up his lips, smiling when you laughed at the way he threw away the key after. “But I don’t care, he’s right. It’s been five years since I’ve seen him and plus I’ve moved on now.”

“So it’s safe to say you’ll be taking your loser as your plus one? Sorry Jay.” Sunghoon was kissing his teeth as he finished the last part and you rolled your eyes.

He liked to tease Jay about having a secret crush on you all these years although the other boy strictly denied it every time it was brought up, getting the same nasty scowl on his face that he had right now.

“Jiung isn’t a loser.” You attempted to defend your coworker who you had been going on casual dates with for a few months now but your voice was weak and you winced slightly. “At least he’s nice.”

“You might as well call him a loser. No guy likes to be called nice.” Sunghoon remarked.

He was joining you at the third seat of the table then and you sighed softly knowing he was right, guilt rising up in your chest considering you were having second thoughts about taking him as your date to the reunion. You glanced at Jay who was already watching you with a soft expression.

“Well I think nice is good.”

——

It was only about two weeks later that the reunion was approaching and you felt sick to your stomach as you sat in your car, your schools logo shining a bright light into the dark parking lot and causing you to groan as you rested your forehead against your steering wheel.

Your phone was lighting up with a text message, letting you know that Sunghoon and Jay were waiting for you near the entrance so you could walk in together.

You took a deep breath before giving yourself a small pep talk, finally getting out of the car and adjusting your dress before meeting them underneath the archway. It was strange to see them in such a familiar place but looking so different and meaning a lot more to you now. They seemed to be feeling the same thing as they watched you with nostalgic looks.

“Well if it isn’t Y/N L/N.” Sunghoon was chiming and meeting you half way, throwing an arm over your shoulders and leading you towards the entrance doors. Jay followed quietly behind, watching the two of you with a half smile. “So whats your first period?”

“Wrestling if you don’t take your arm off me.” You groaned and pushed him away from you, not needing rumors to start before you’d even entered the building. Jiung would be arriving after his shift ended and you didn’t need to be seen with multiple men by your old judge classmates.

As much as you didn’t want to attend you couldn’t deny how beautiful the gym looked. Jungwon had done an amazing job of decorating it and making the space feel less like early PE and more like a grand ball, an upgraded version of the homecomings he had thrown back then.

You made a mental note to find him and compliment his interior design skills before following your friends over to the drinks and snacks.

Your skin was still buzzing with anxiety at the thought of seeing people you once knew, one in particular, but you reminded yourself he most likely wouldn’t come. If he did it would be okay regardless, you’d moved on and it had been almost half a decade since you’d seen his handsome face.

Which is why it was almost too intense of a shock wave that hit you when you spun around with your drink in hand and were immediately face to face with the same boy you’d been praying you didn’t run into tonight.

Heeseung was already watching you from a few feet away, having recognized the back of your head despite being confused considering the two boys you were hanging out with, his old friends who he never once thought you’d encountered. But when you turned to the side to laugh at something Sunghoon said as he poured your drink, he was certain it was you and his feet instinctively started to move in your direction.

You were both frozen as you looked at each other with wide eyes, not saying anything as you took in the others appearance and presence.

Heeseung looked the same but different somehow. His eyes were the first thing you noticed, still overwhelmingly round and beautiful but calmer now. He was lacking his boyish spark that always made him seem like he was one burst of energy from absolutely exploding.

Physically he was larger although he’d always carried lean muscle from playing multiple sports. While then he had relied on speed and being agile, now he seemed stronger and more sturdy judging by the way his button up stretched slightly over his chest. You felt uncomfortable as he looked at you, knowing he was probably making similar judgements about you and you nudged Sunghoon with your elbow to get his attention.

“Whats wrong sweet?” He was spinning around to address you kindly but faltering when he followed your frozen gaze and saw his old friend standing a few feet away. “Oh dude, what’s up Heeseung?”

Sunghoon’s voice was excited as he addressed him but you watched the way the older boys jaw clenched at the use of the nickname towards you, shifting on his feet and not even sparing his high school friend a glance as he gave you a knowing look. You recognized the signs of jealously and annoyance on his face and you sighed softly as you realized he hadn’t changed as much as you thought.

He finally turned to address Sunghoon as they exchanged bro like high-fives and a side hug before he was leaning back again to glance between the two of you.

“So you two…?” He trailed off but you knew what he was implying as he pointed a finger back and fourth a few times.

You tried not to think about how different his voice sounded or the way his half smirk he was offering the two of you didn’t match his gentle face, heart in your throat as the previous image of him youd held so dearly the last five years disappeared and molded into this new version of him in front of you.

“Oh no man, no way.” Sunghoon was laughing once he realized, not catching onto the fact the other boy was clearly irritated and you were growing more uncomfortable by the second. He glanced over at you and your other friend beside you and you immediately knew what he was going to say judging by the mischievous look in his eye. “She’s with Jay.”

All three of you froze in shock, although you had expected him to say it it still didn’t make the impact any less heavy. It fell completely silent as you waited for Sunghoon to break the joke and laugh, tell Heeseung he was only kidding so you could finally say your goodbyes and leave the awkward situation behind. He didn’t however, watching you to wait and see what you would say.

“What a surprise.” Heeseung’s cold voice was filtering in instead and you felt Jay stiffen from beside you. “So you finally grew a pair? Only took you a decade I guess.”

Now Sunghoon was freezing alongside the rest of you and his mouth parted softly, despite being the one who constantly teased your friend and brought it up, even he was thrown off by how mean the comment Heeseung had made was.

You felt sick to your stomach once you processed what he was saying, implying both that Sunghoon hadn’t been joking when he talked about the other boys crush on you and also the fact he had seemingly known about it since before you even got together freshman year. You were turning your head slightly to glance at Jay to see him still completely stiff, his face ghost white with bright red cheeks from his embarrassment.

“Jay?” You whispered and the sound of your voice seemed to break him from his trance, shooting you a panicked look before he was awkwardly placing his drink back down on the table and clumsily excusing himself.

He was gone before you could object and Sunghoon sighed before following him, patting you on the back and glaring at Heeseung as he went.

This left you alone with the boy and although he still looked as irritated as he did a few minutes ago, now there was confusion masking his features as well. You glared at him but didn’t say anything, just shaking your head before turning to try and follow your friends out of the auditorium.

However a hand on your arm was stopping you and you whipped around back towards the boy, yanking your arm away from him and trying to ignore the fact your skin lit up with a fire the second he had touched you. A flash of hurt passed by his face before it was hardening again and you scoffed.

“Don’t leave yet.” He was rushing out and for a second he sounded like he had last time you’d seen him, a hint of desperation in his voice. “We haven’t even talked.”

“Why would we need to talk?” You practically hissed at him although you weren’t sure why. His comment had been mean but he didn’t know any better, obviously not realizing the stupid joke and just retorting in the way a childish ex boyfriend would.

Heeseung faltered at your tone and he finally let some expression show, a confused and hesitant look on his face as he glanced down to your feet and then back up to hold your glare. He shrugged and took a step away from you, letting you know you were able to go and follow the other boys.

You sighed at his reaction and made no move to leave, watching him for a second and trying to think about a way to handle this that would create the least amount of drama.

“Come with me to find Jay and then we can go somewhere and talk.” You were eventually saying and he was thinking for a moment before nodding and following you out of the gym.

The two of you walked in silence down the hallways and you couldn’t help but steal glances at him every few seconds, your mind having a hard time understanding the visual of adult Heeseung walking down the same floors he had last time you’d seen him. You figured he was doing something similar judging by the way you kept awkwardly meeting each others eyes and hurriedly looking away.

“How’d that happen anyways?” He was asking you once you pushed through the doors back outside and you looked at him in confusion. “You and those guys being friends.”

You smiled at the mention of them and shrugged softly, pulling your jacket up on your shoulders tighter once the cold night air nipped at your skin. “I imagine we could’ve been friends in high school too if I wasn’t so busy.”

He was laughing softly and turning to walk sideways so he could look at you more clearly, your heart picking up in speed when you looked at him to see that familiar smirk and cocky glint in his eyes that arrived at the mention of your activities in high school.

“Remind me what it was that had you so occupied back then.” He was asking but he already knew, just wanting to hear you say it and see your reaction.

You considered humoring him for half a second before deciding against it, rolling your eyes and looking away from his intense stare before you did something stupid.

He was taking a step closer to you then and you stopped walking, watching with saddened eyes as he took a few more, his hand coming up to hold your arm again although a lot more gentle this time around. Your stomach turned at the feeling of him touching you and you could’ve cried if you thought about it for too long.

“I missed you.” He was whispering suddenly and you hated that you could hear the sincerity in his voice, breaking around his words slightly as he softly squeezed your arm. “I really fucking missed you.”

You were turning your head downwards softly to try to stop yourself from tearing up and being an embarrassing ex, mouth opening and closing as you tried to think of something you could say to him that wouldn’t hurt either of your feelings.

You were swiftly interrupted by the sound of a car door closing a few parking spaces down and you took a step away from the boy just in case, his hand falling off your arm and dangling in mid air for a few seconds before he removed it. You glanced behind you towards the sound and your sick feeling got worse when you realized who it was that was approaching you.

“Y/N.” Jiung waved at you with a big smile and you tried to offer back a small one, wincing when he approached and wrapped an arm around your side. He was turning towards the other boy in greeting. “This must be one of your classmates.”

Heeseung had lost the gentle expression on his face again, eyes hard as they shot down to the hand sitting on your waist. He was looking back up at you with a raised eyebrow and you sighed softly when you noticed his jaw clenching again. Still he surprised you when he stuck a hand out towards your date, gripping the others firmly in a handshake before giving him a forced smile.

“Heeseung.” He offered his name and Jiung froze beside you.

“Oh…. this is Heeseung.” He glanced down at you and you bit the inside of your cheek awkwardly, nodding slowly as he pieced together who it was that was standing in front of him, finally putting a face to the name.

Heeseung on the other hand seemed pleased at the realization that you had talked about him, especially to this guy that was slowly loosening his hold around your body the longer he glared at him intensely. You felt a surge of annoyance that the boy still held a childish amount of possessiveness and jealously over you despite the fact you hadn’t had contact with him in years.

“This is Jiung my… friend.” You eventually introduced him, trying to lessen the awkward tension that was building to a suffocating amount.

Jiung faltered at the title you gave him but you weren’t lying necessarily, you’d been going on dates every since he asked you out at a company dinner but you hadn’t talked about it in detail or really moved towards anything serious.

This seemed to calm Heeseung down for a second before he was glancing at you, trying to decide what you considered a friend. He recalled you introducing him as that back in the day and he most definitely didn’t have you in a friendly way most of the time. You shot him a warning glare and he lost his intimidating expression immediately as he listened to you.

You ushered Jiung inside after that, telling Heeseung to go find Jay and apologize and ignoring him when he groaned and tried to follow on your heels like a lost puppy.

“What was that?” Jiung was whispering once you got inside and you looked at him with a raised eyebrow, not liking the harsh tone he suddenly had with you. “I’m your friend now?”

You stared at him in disbelief knowing he only cared because the person you had said it to. You’d called him your friend for months and vice versa but clearly his ego was wounded at the fact you’d said it to Heeseung. You were a bit sick of the amount of male ego floating around tonight and you were about ready to leave at this point.

“When have you ever been otherwise.” You spat back at him and he scoffed, uncharacteristically angry. He normally was quiet and pretty shy hence why Sunghoon had taken to calling him a loser, never to his face of course.

You figured the night wouldn’t be much fun but you didn’t expect to be sat at one of the tables in awkward silence with your coworker, your friends no where to be seen still. Your arms were crossed and you weren’t bothering to mask the annoyed look on your face as Jiung the as in a similar position, still throwing a hissy fit over the title you’d given him.

Jungwon had stopped by your table at one point, greeting you warmly despite being slightly awkward considering your date had completely ignored his arrival. You paid him no mind and enthusiastically told your old president what a good job he had done, citing that everybody seemed to be having a good time.

He smiled and thanked you despite clearly being able to tell you weren’t necessarily apart of that, noticing you sitting with a frown on your face earlier.

The rest of the night carried on like that and then it was finally ending, masses of feet finding their way outside the school again. You walked past the groups of people saying goodbye to each other, not bothering to join in on the charade considering you weren’t in the best mood and definitely at risk of being accidentally rude to an old peer.

Jiung was following you silently and when you reached his car and stared at him he took a moment before speaking.

“I’m sorry if I ruined the night.” He was stating and you gave him a tired glance. “I don’t know why I acted like that… just seeing him and knowing how much he meant to you…”

“Well he doesn’t mean anything to me anymore.” You were cutting him off before he could finish, shaking your head and contemplating giving him a hug goodbye before deciding against it, offering a small wave instead as you turned to go and find where you had parked.

You took your time as you walked to the other side of the parking lot, watching Jiung’s car as it pulled off and feeling strangely sick again with overwhelming nostalgia.

It was that same feeling you had when you first moved back home and arrived in the local airport, the disappointing ride back home as it stormed like the sky could feel how saddened you felt. It didn’t go away for weeks, that heavy hole in your heart, especially as you adjusted to the places you would frequent with Heeseung, having to get used to not seeing him around every corner.

“So I don’t mean anything then?” His voice now was a stark reminder of that as he rounded his way through the cars closest to yours, clearly having listened in on your conversation a few minutes prior.

“Do you always spy on your old classmates conversations?” You were sighing and putting your keys back into your pocket, leaning against your car as you watched him.

He joined you, scanning your new vehicle first for a second before he was leaning onto it beside you and touching your shoulder to his. The car was slightly wet from the earlier drizzle but he didn’t complain as it sunk through his long sleeve shirt, sending him a cold chill that you could feel on your arm that was pressed against him.

“Is that what we are? Old classmates?” He was asking with a small laugh but it lacked any humor, his voice sounding slightly wounded like it had earlier.

“Let’s not do this.” You shook your head softly, the longing and desperation on his face making your heart beat almost painfully in your throat. “Please Heeseung.”

Lee Heeseung had always felt like a drug to you and he knew this more than anybody considering he felt the same way.

You remembered after you and him had first started to fool around with each other, you hadn’t thought too deeply about it. He was a known player and although he’d been around your life since you were young that didn’t make you exempt from his flirting and advances apparently like you had figured. He’d never paid you any attention before but you weren’t going to get your heartbroken by him.

Still, he was cute and you liked the way he smiled so naturally you didn’t decline once he continued to show interest in you. That’s all it was at first however, quick hookups in his car before practice or once or twice you went to his house on a free weekend to see him.

You never acknowledged each other in public, especially not at school, and you rarely talked outside of having sex and saying meaningless words. This was okay with you and you never expected anything else, almost preferring how easy and simple the arrangement was as of now.

Then one day after lunch, one of Heeseung’s more publicly known hookups was pouring her drink over your head. She’d barely gotten a few words out before she was being dragged away by teachers but you vaguely heard her screaming something about you being a slut as she cried and kicked. When you asked him about it the next weekend while getting dressed in his room, he casually told you he had broken stuff off with her because of you.

You’d stopped midway from putting your bra back on to look at him in bewilderment, him casually avoiding your glance despite the fact he was anxiously fidgeting with his fingers.

“Why the hell would you do that Hee?” You remember hissing at him and he raised his thin shoulders in a careless shrug.

“Maybe you’re just my favorite.” He was retorting with a small smirk, dodging out of the way when you chucked your shirt in his direction.

He had said it like it was a joke but that didn’t stop you from paying extra attention to his behavior from there on out. Heeseung was clearly obsessed with you and you would’ve been annoyed by his antics if you weren’t in the same boat, almost feeling sick every time you went more than a week without being able to see him.

You spent almost all of your free time together, even on the days where you had been “broken up”.

Your friends had been excited for you at first, being not only noticed by the most popular guy at school but also being the first girl he seemed to actually care about. Their excitement turned to worry the longer your toxic relationship went on and the more weekends you spent crying in bed after another nasty argument.

It was always stupid things you’d argue about, childish assumptions and major jealously issues on both sides. Heeseung didn’t like the way boys are parties looked at you and you hate the girls on the cheerleading team who called his name louder than they did the rest of the boys.

So you’d scream and you’d fight and you’d slam doors so hard the wood would crack but then less than a week later you’d be underneath him again, murmuring about how you can’t live without each other and you’d never love somebody as much as you loved him.

“What are we doing?” He was speaking again now regarding your warning for him to stop speaking the way he was. “We are just talking, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“You know it’s never just talking with us.” You laughed a dry laugh and looked down at your feet, sadness ripping through you again at the reminder you weren’t stupid kids anymore.

You were older now and more mature, supposedly moved on, yet your heart still raced every time he smiled and your entire arm was on fire just from the feeling of his sleeve against your jacket. The pit in your stomach full of longing was screaming out at you to lean into him, to scratch that itch that never left and always begged you to pick up the phone and call him.

“I knew I missed you, I mean I think about you every day but….” He trailed off for a second and you looked over towards him, watching the side of his face as he took a deep breath. “I feel like this is the first time I’ve been able to breathe in 5 years.”

“We were terrible together.” You whispered back to him, trying to keep your sad tone lighthearted so he understood you were mostly joking.

You didn’t like that when he looked at you, you felt 18 again. His eyes were teary and you wanted to reach up and hold his cheek, wipe your thumb gently under his eye and whisper nice things to him until it cleared away.

You remembered the first time you’d ever seen Heeseung cry and you felt like your world had collapsed. He always was so strong and optimistic, calm in bad situations and cracking jokes when you were so frustrated you couldn’t find it in yourself to even laugh at him despite appreciating his ability to always make light of a situation.

So when he had shown up on your doorstep your junior year soaking wet from the rain and sobbing so hard he was leaning against your door for support, you felt like you had quite literally died.

You’d pulled him inside quickly and he wrapped you in a bone cracking hug, completely soaking your clothes although you didn’t mind or object in any way.

You hadn’t seen him for a few days considering you’d fought the previous weekend after a boy at a party had snaked his hand around your waist and squeezed slyly before Heeseung was ripping him off of you and nearly pummeling him into the ground, only stopping his attack when a few of his friends heard the yells and gasps and helped you pull him away from the boy.

After storming out of the party you scolded him for being so careless, only one year from graduation with a near perfect record that would help with scholarships.

“You think I give a fuck about any of that?” He had sneered at you under the streetlight and you remembered the way his voice echoed throughout the quiet street, his cheek red and swollen from the other guy getting a few good hits in.

“You should.” You had yelled back, hands coming up in confusion.

“All that matters to me is this.” He was approaching you swiftly but you didn’t flinch back, not even with the aggressiveness from earlier still floating through his eyes, knowing he’d never hurt you. “You are what matters to me, this is all I have.”

You’d told him he was crazy for saying things like that and tried to remind him how important football was and how he needed to get this scholarship, he needed these opportunities and you weren’t going to let him throw them away for you. This upset him and he’d called you a ride home before disappearing somewhere, now returning on your doorstep like a stray dog.

“What’s wrong?” You were gasping into his wet hair, a cold chill running through you considering just how soaked he was.

You shuffled the two of you over to the door so could close it, taking a peak outside briefly to see his car wasn’t in your driveway. He had either gotten a ride and stood outside for a while or he’d walked the two hours from his own house.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Tell me what happened?” You tried to pull back from the hug to look at his face but he was squeezing you tighter, a panicked cry slipping through his lips at the feeling of you even attempting to pull away from him.

You didn’t try again and you didn’t talk either, both of you sinking to the floor as he cried and shook in your arms. You were petting his hair softly and ignoring the small puddle that was building up around you on your floor.

Eventually once he calmed down he was able to tell you what happened. Heeseung’s grandma, who he lived with full time and was raised by, had passed away a day or two prior and he’d only gotten the news once he finally came home and found her gone.

It’d been a long time since that night now but as you looked at him now it’s all you could think about. You think, in a way, that’s when you fully realized how much you truly loved him. This wasn’t a high school fling or you both being unhealthy obsessed with each other to the point you thought you were in love, it was serious for you and the thought made your stomach hurt.

Not because you had any doubt he loved you too, that was never a concern of yours. Quite the opposite considering he was a lot more open in his care for you than you were towards him, instinctively keeping him at an arms length distance sometimes.

It made you feel so terrible because you knew how it would end before it even did, you knew he would do great like he always did and he’d be given opportunities that didn’t have room for you in them. He would get too busy or too full of himself and you’d be left on the back burner, then he’d move on and forget all about you.

Hearing him now express how terribly he’d missed you, equating it to years worth of suffocation, made your stomach turn for other reasons.

“We weren’t terrible we were just kids.” He was retorting and you watched him as he shifted closer to you against the car. He’d always been taller than you but he seemed especially large now, his face and voice more mature.

“I saw the way you looked at Jiung and Jay earlier.” You reminded him and shook your head in denial. “It’s the same, you would’ve beat him bloody if you could have.”

“Moment of weakness. I’m not like that anymore.” He was quick to reply, almost like he knew you were going to bring it up. You glanced at him again and he was already watching you curiously. “But I’d do it if I had to yeah, I’d do anything for you.”

You were pulling off the car so you could fully face him, standing in front of him and looking at him with an incredulous expression. He was directly going against his first statement that he had changed for the better and you felt frustrated that he wasn’t understanding your point of view.

“How can you say that to me?” You whispered to him and he winced at the pain in your tone, reaching a hand out to hold your arm softly and feeling relieved when you didn’t immediately swat him away. “It’s been a long time Heeseung, you’re just confused because you’re back here.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit.” He was shaking his head and scoffing, playing with your jacket sleeve and pinching it softly between his reddening fingers. “It hasn’t been a long time to me, I’m still here every day in my head. Every morning I’m still waking up beside you even when you’re not there.”

You knew it was probably stupid to lean forward towards him, everything in you telling you you’d regret it but you couldn’t help it as you listened to him talk.

You didn’t kiss him or anything, just simply leaned your body forward against his on the car so he could wrap his arms around your lower back and hold you tighter than he’d been holding your sleeve, but it was enough for him to know you were listening and attempting to hear him out.

He sucked in a breath now that you were pushed against him and for a second you thought he’d start to tear up again, a similar overwhelming feeling of relief and comfort washing through you at just the small act of being close to him again.

“So you miss me too?” He was whispering now that you were closer, looking down at you. You were close enough that if he leaned down your noses would touch but he didn’t, just watching you as you peered up at him.

“Of course I miss you.” You finally surrendered and told him part of the truth, not liking the way his eyes immediately lit up in happiness and the way it made your cheeks flush with warmth. “I miss you so bad it hurts sometimes.”

“Then come with me.” He was practically pleading and you felt his big hands squeezing against your back, pulling you against him tighter as he watched you with big earnest eyes. “Come with me and…. And I-I’ll do better, we can start over.”

You were crying now as he spoke so desperately and he immediately stopped talking once he realized, pulling you in fully for a hug and letting you cry into his chest like you had done for him all those years ago. You let your hands come up to rest flat on his back, feeling the way he took shuddering breaths and the fast beating of his heart.

There was no possible way you could give Heeseung what he wanted, you couldn’t leave with him and you knew there was no place for your love in the universe as much as you wished it was different.

You thought back to the last time you’d had a similar conversation to this, when you found out he’d been offered the scholarship of his dreams all the way in America.

“You can come with obviously, they’re giving me my own little dorm and everything.” He’d been so excited as he rambled and packed up his desk, not noticing the way you were silent and emotionless just behind him on his unmade bed.

When he had finally turned to look at you and see why you weren’t giving him any reactions, his face dropped seeing your teary eyes as you softly shook your head. You were still in your pajamas from the night before when everything was perfect and just the two of you laying in bed together watching Toy Story, now your heart felt like it was being ripped from your chest.

“Angel what’s wrong?” He was rushing back over to the bed and climbing on it, stopping right in front of you and holding your face gently as you started to cry. “No no no, don’t cry my sweet girl. What happened, tell me what happened?”

You didn’t need to voice the fact that you wouldn’t be going with him, giving him a heavy glance that only took him a few seconds to understand. There wasn’t much of a conversation after that despite his deep desire to beg you to change your mind, to reconsider. Heeseung wasn’t going to make you do something you didn’t want, even though getting on the plane without you changed him forever.

You were pulling back from the hug gently so he didn’t think you were mad at him, looking up at him and holding his face softly as you tried to think of what to say or do.

“I’ll show you.” He whispered before you could, nodding his head softly as his voice cracked from his own sob. He was biting his lip softly to stop from crying too hard and you stopped thinking he looked so different, only able to see the boy you knew before as you looked at him now. “Give me time and I’ll show you, I promise. Don’t give up on me.”

You were taking a deep breath as you watched him speak, slowly making up your mind and just simply wrestling with the knowledge that what you were about to say would change things for you drastically, change them for a long time to come.

“I could never give up on you.”

[happilyhertale]

what about a tom bennett x reader in which reader takes up the job as being a housekeeper for the bennett family? reader is sweet and a bit shy but douglas immediately takes her in and reassures her about everything.

tom develops something for the kind girl, him and her getting close and a secret relationship soon develops between the two. (fluff, angst, smutttt)

please?

Finding the courage – Tom Bennett x female!reader, Part 1

Summary: You spent a sheltered childhood in Brighton. Until the time when your father died. Your mother is overwhelmed with the role of caring mother, which eventually leads you to leave home and seek happiness elsewhere. But you have not in the least anticipated what or who awaits you in your new adopted home.

Pairing: Tom Bennett x fem!reader

Warnings: In some parts smut as well as violence. There will be an extra warning for the respective parts.

Author’s note: Hey you (:

This short Tom Bennett story is based on the request that was sent to me. The story takes place before the first season of World on fire. I hope you will enjoy the story! English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 2.6k

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Other stories of mine

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The sun slowly rises and envelops the sky in a fiery light pink. You see yellow fields, as far as the eye can see, pass by the window. All the rape fields melt before your eyes into huge, yellow expanses. In the distance, the yellow seems to kiss the still light pink shimmering sky.

Only now and then are the fields replaced by small sections of forest. In this early morning hour you see a few deer carelessly jumping across the fields and disappearing into the forest.

You have to smile a little at the image that presents itself to you here. It would indeed be a beautiful moment, if your overall situation did not leave you in a worried, if not anxious mood.

In the middle of the night you finally got the courage to leave your old life behind. You got on the train in Brighton and just wanted to leave.

Your thoughts take you back to your childhood. To a time when everything was still fine. To a time when your father was still alive. He died when you were nine years old and nothing was the same. Everything changed from one moment to the next. He was the one who took care of you, who made you feel safe. Your mother was also loving towards you. As best she could... It's just not in her blood to be a caring mother, but you can't judge her for that.

It wasn't easy for her either to lose your father. They loved each other in their own way and his sudden loss was difficult for her to cope with. Likewise, he was the one who had a good job and brought home money regularly. Financially you were not doing badly, your father earned a lot of money. But when he died, his income was missing, and at some point it was clear that your mother would have to look for a job again. Her savings were almost exhausted.

She found a job relatively quickly. At first she worked in a grocery shop. But after a while she lost the job. Then she worked in a small library, but she also lost that job after a few months. Then she started as a cleaner in a restaurant. But that job didn't last long either. It went well for a few years, but then suddenly she couldn't find work. She was in the awkward position of having to earn money at any cost because you were still at school and couldn't support her by finding a job yourself.

And so she started seeing men. Not to get to know them better, but to earn money. She was a very pretty woman. She is tall, which usually got her most of the attention as soon as she entered a room. She was not too thin, nor too fat. Her curves adorned her body in all the right places, and the overall outer appearance was rounded off by her long legs. Her long brown hair usually fell down her back. But almost the most beautiful thing about her were her large green eyes, which she always accentuated with a little eye shadow. You have often been told that you are the image of your mother. Her looks helped her to date men and ask for money in return. At first she went out to dinner with the men or accompanied them to important occasions. At least that's what she told you. But at some point you realised that it was stressful for her to meet these men and she started drinking regularly. The fact that these men she met showed up at your door from time to time and wanted to "see" your mother certainly contributed to her unpleasant situation. And her new lifestyle ensured that she lost her natural beauty.

It happened more and more often that you came home from school at noon and your mother was lying unconscious on your sofa. There were empty wine bottles all over the house and she would just snore quietly. Consequently, there was no lunch for you either and from that point on you started making sure that there were regular meals and that the household was run.

So you started cooking for yourself and your big brother and keeping the house clean. Your brother, who was still living with you at the time, regularly fought with the men outside your door, but he soon moved out. He couldn't take it any more and wanted to seek his fortune in London.

So it was just you and your mother. You have a rather shy personality, but you are not helpless. And so it was now your job to drive away the uninvited guests at your door. It is also thanks to your shyness that you have few friends. You need time to warm up to people, but few take the time to really get to know you. But that meant you had no one to talk to about these problems.

But still, from time to time there were people in your life with whom you could talk about your problems. Because even though you don't have many friends, you have had romantic relationships. Two men have already managed to get closer to you. They were very caring and sweet, but in the end it just wasn't what you were looking for and so you ended both of those relationships.

When you finished school, you started working in a pub, as a waitress. You worked many nights and served the men of the town. The work gave you good and not so good experiences. But what you can say is that you love to drink a beer or two, have nice conversations and dance. The beer probably helps you to dare to go out on the dance floor.

But after you started saving a little money, your mother also started talking more and more about how you could support her in her work. That if you double-dated with men, you could just make more money. Of course you refused and told her that would never happen. That was the moment when you first thought about moving out.

For a few weeks she left you alone with the subject, but then she started talking about it again and became very insistent. You had the feeling that there was someone else behind it and that she was not acting out of her own desire.

One evening your mother was unbearable. She kept trying to convince you that you could at least come to dinner with her and a certain man. When you got tired of contradicting her, you agreed.

You agreed to go out for dinner with your mother and a strange man the next evening. And she seemed somehow relieved.

Then you went to your room because you had to work that night and you had to get ready for it. But when you were in your room, you packed your things. Now you've had enough. You didn't want to stay in that place and start seeing random men for money. And just like your brother, you would seek your fortune elsewhere now. Maybe in London, like your brother.

You have taken your old backpack and packed it with the most important things. From the box under your bed you took out all your savings. With this, you can at least buy yourself something to eat for a while.

After you had packed everything you needed, you walked over to your window and carefully threw your backpack out of the window. You walked through your room one last time, taking one last look around. You sighed, now you would leave your home, but somehow you were not sad about it. Once again you looked in the mirror hanging in your room. You took a deep breath and left your room.

When you came to the living room, your mother was sitting there drinking her wine.

"Goodbye, Mum"

She smiled at you, "See you later my darling. Have a good time at work. See you tomorrow night at the latest!"

You nodded at her and smiled.

You have left the house. It's summer and as you stood outside the door, a light breeze was blowing. It smelled like rain.

You walked around the house and picked up your backpack. Slowly you walked down the street where you grew up. You took another look at the neighbours' houses and the gardens. You had to smile, countless times you had played there. Seeing the area for the last time made you a little sad... But it was the only right thing to do. At the end of the street you turned off and the pub appeared at the end. As you entered, the familiar cloud of smoke met you and loud music played.

You walked through the dancing people and are greeted by some of the guests. You walked straight ahead to the bar.

"Ey! Y/n! I'm glad you're here!"

He smiled at you until his expression became questioning, " Why do you have a backpack?" your boss asked you.

"Yea.. Frank... I need to talk to you."

He lookes at you worriedly, "Is everything alright?"

You nodded, "I will go... I'm going to leave Brighton. Tonight. Preferably now. I don't know where to go... And I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell my mother?"

He looked at you startled, "Wow.... Y/n... do you think this is the right decision?"

Again, you just nodded.

"Okay... then... come here one last time," and he opened his arms.

The older, slightly chubby man wraped you tightly in his arms. During the time you worked here, he always took good care of you and looked after you.

"Now I'll probably lose a lot of tips".

You laughed.

"But wait!" he went to his cash register and took out some money.

"Take this as your pay, for the hours you've already worked this week".

Shocked, you looked at him, he put about two hundred pounds in your hand, "No Frank! That's too much!"

"Don't argue! Please take it" he just put his hands in his pocket so you couldn't give him the money back.

You smiled and hugged him again, "Thank you..."

He hugged you tightly, "Take care of yourself, will ya?"

You nodded, "I'm not very talkative, but quick-witted!"

He nodded at you and you turned and made your way to the exit of the pub.

After a short walk you have reached the station. There were hardly any people at the station, probably because it was already late. After finding out which train was leaving next, you decided not to go to London. Because if you really wanted to go to London, you would have had to spend the whole night at the station, because the next train to London didn't leave until the next day. But you didn't feel like doing that. So you just got on the next train and let yourself be surprised where you'd arrive. It didn't matter now anyway.

And so it came to pass that you are sitting on the train watching the sunrise. You are sure that you have made the right decision, but you still feel insecure.

But you will just have the courage and get off at the next station.

You notice that the train is slowing down and you sigh. You get up from your seat, adjust your dress and slowly put on your backpack.

The train slowly pulls into the station and as it comes to a stop, you open the door. You step out onto the platform and look around. Not many, but some people are walking hurriedly around you. Either they want to board the train or they are leaving the platform.

You have been watching them for some time. But as you stand alone on the platform and the train starts to leave again, you walk along the platform.

You come to a sign and you stop. Your gaze goes up to read the sign.

It says "Manchester".

You sigh, "Okay... Manchester it is".

Slowly you walk to the end of the platform. As you leave the station, you realise that you don't even know where you are going. But the best thing to do is probably to find the city centre first.

You walk through the streets of Manchester, trying to find your way around. Many small houses decorate the streets, creating a pleasant atmosphere. And you see at least as many small shops that look very inviting. At first glance, you like the city. You spend some time strolling through the streets and looking at the shop windows.

But when you pass a bakery, you realise how hungry you actually are. You go in and buy some rolls.

You continue on your way and slowly eat one of the rolls.

It is getting close to mid-afternoon when you pass a factory.

Then you notice an elderly man standing in front of a factory. He is trying to talk to the people walking past him. Until you realise that he is handing out leaflets, or at least he is trying to. Because most people just walk past him without paying attention or turn away from him.

Somehow you can't stop watching him. Until a pretty young lady comes out of the factory and walks straight up to him. She smiles at him and they talk. You are almost startled as they walk away together. Is this his ploy? You watch them for a moment and the young lady seems to really go with him.

Slowly you walk on, around the factory and discover an industrial area. At least that's what it seems like. But as you get closer, you see that there are just a lot of buildings that seem to be empty. The sun is slowly setting and you decide to see if you can sleep in one of the buildings. You notice a small stream at the edge of the site and since there are few people around here, behind the factory, even animals dare to approach the stream.

As you walk across the grounds, you soon discover a small cottage standing in the middle of all the big empty buildings and you go towards it. You try to open the door, but it is very difficult to open. With all your strength you push against the door and it slowly opens. You look behind the door and some beams are lying there. After you have closed the door behind you, you lock it with the beams that are lying there on the floor.

As you turn into the room, you notice that there are curtains in front of the windows. At least they used to be curtains. But it makes the room almost homely. You go further into the house and in a room at the back you see a sofa. It looks reasonably clean. You decide to stay here. At least for the summer. For the winter you should find something else.

You sit down on the sofa with a sigh and realise how tired you really are.

You look out of the window and see that it is almost dark. You take a small blanket from your backpack and put it over you. The sofa is very small, but still comfortable. You try to make yourself comfortable on it. After you have turned back and forth a few times, you lie on your back and look up at the ceiling. Gradually it gets darker and darker and you can't stop thinking. Your thoughts turn to your mother, who is probably waiting for you to finally show up so that you can have dinner with her and the man. You turn on your side and look into the dark room. Tomorrow you should really get a job here so you can find a small flat or a room. That was probably your last clear thought, because the next moment the sun is slowly rising.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag list

@aemonds-wifey @hoshi-miharu-blog

@targaryen-dynasty

[nothums-from-tj]

Benson Dunwoody: Upbringing Headcanons and Interpretations

From someone who’s only seen seasons 1-3, parts of 4-6 and none of 7-8 yet

Hi I’ve been rewatching Regular Show which I didn’t get to finish since I lost cable by the time I was like 13 or so (2014-15) so I didn’t really see the end of it and I started losing some interest by s4-5, so that’s why only parts of it. I’m older now and realizing I have sooo many similarities to him and his childhood from what I’ve seen/known this far and I’m having fun so ! Hope y’all do too :]

I’ll likely reblog when I’ve gotten further into the series!! If any episodes aren’t noted that are referenced I either haven’t watched them yet (saw a clip) or have been named previously!!

Even without his father teaching him that he needs to yell to earn things, he would’ve probably turned out to have a loud speaking voice anyhow as it seems the yelling was a common occurrence (“Think Positive”)

As the baby in the family, he probably saw so much shit his older sister had to deal with as far as “you did the littlest thing wrong so you’ve ruined everything” he probably did everything he could to avoid upsetting people

He’s def a people pleaser as we see how he is with Mr. Maellard and how hard he pushes the crew to try to fit Maellard’s standards (“Benson Be Gone” particularly comes to mind)

I think he used to be really similar to Mordecai and Rigby growing up and why he’s especially hard on them

Doesn’t necessarily count under this category whoops- I’d say he’s only like 5-ish years older than Mordecai and Rigby (his table hockey days were 10 years prior to season 2 where they would’ve been like 13-14, Benson could’ve easily been 18-19 or so though I’ll look into other flashbacks of him to calculate) (“Stick Hockey”)

He’s very emotionally neglected providing his father told him he’s not good at anything and his dreams are dumb or something along those lines

Growing up with OCD/other anxiety disorders is a nightmare and he checks sooo many boxes (as someone with OCD/a couple anxiety disorders since childhood), particularly how he often mentions that he has nothing left without his job at the park as if there are no options whatsoever (“Busted Cart”)

On top of that, the main reason he does stay at the park is for respect and control, something he’d never received at home (upon Hair to the Throne offering him his position back in the band and he denied saying he likes working at the park, despite referring to himself in s2 as “a no-good loser stuck working at a park for the rest of his life”) (“150 Piece Set”)

He used to try to reach out to his parents often upon moving away from home and it took him not being able to contact them for like a week and a half or so for. Idk whatever reason to realize they never reached out first or even really cared enough to know what was going on w him for him to stop reaching out and he hasn’t really heard from them since

Has had a gambling addiction since crazy young, seeing he’s claimed that he’s best at cards and the way he used to gamble his life at table hockey on a regular basis, enough so he brought in seemingly a family member to join him and it took said apprentice to lose his life in order for him to stop playing

Also since I say he was about 18-19 at the time of being a table hockey master, he had to’ve been playing either publicly or with the right person to get discovered especially as his father tried to tell him that he has no talents, and it must’ve started when he found either this or cards as something he’s really good at (“Fortune Cookie”)

He didn’t seem to grow up with many friends and he never learned how to be patient or even too kind, even trying his best efforts weren’t doing too well, though he did gain respect and appreciation from others in authority by going above and beyond or at least doing what was asked of him when his peers wouldn’t (noting his sensitivity to others believing he has little to no personal/social life) (“Weekend At Benson’s”, “Eggscellent”)

I’ll be sure to add on when I have more!!! Loving this silly little gumball machine rn

[silvrash-797]

It’s “appreciate yourself” hours! Pick five pieces of writing that you’ve done that you love and talk about them! ❤️❤️❤️

*squints at you suspiciously* Did you know today was my 1-year anniversary of fic writing when you sent this? /lh

I don't really like talking about myself, but I feel like I've come pretty far in the last year and this has been a good opportunity to reflect on that!

(Putting in a read more because...this got loooong)

These are in chronological order, btw

1. I was really nervous about writing and posting my first fic, Please be Careful with the Merchandise. I was still pretty new to Tumblr and was still building my circle of people to interact with. I love writing, but creative, original ideas are frequently hard to come by for me, especially when I'm constantly floored by the amazing authors I've found here. I thought, maybe a POV swap of an existing fic could help me get used to writing these characters; when I approached @skyward-floored about it she gave her blessing, and off I went. There are a few things I might change about it now, but I'm still very pleased with how it turned out!

2. I really like how The Truth Comes to Light turned out as well. It was an ambitious project for me, still a POV swap, but for a much longer fic, from the viewpoint of someone who shouldn't have had a lot of input, at least to start. I managed to dig into his head, though, and pull out a coherent view that I'm still proud of (thank you for giving your permission! Don't worry, I'm still sitting on ideas for Numb and Day trip 😉)

3. This will have to be my Night's dark grasp arc I wrote for Febuwhump this year. Parts 1 and 2 are so short - eight sentences each, no more than a single screen on ao3 mobile - but they set the mood for the 3rd part quite nicely. And I had so much fun writing the Fierce Deity and how the other four heroes would react to him for this one!

4. I think this one goes to Glassbound. Sometimes I like to think of this one as my first true fic - no pov swap of an existing fic, no prompts and pairings fed to me by supportive moots, just a picture that I loved and had Feelings(tm) about, and my own interpretation of the backstory behind it. I was free to explore whatever I wanted, as long as it led to that single image, and even the last chapter surprised me when it began taking shape! And the hype I received from @hyah-lian and others as I wrote kept me going when Four didn't want to behave 😅

5. Finally, we get to @milkyplier's birthday fic. Part 1 for this had a lot of comments along the lines of "why are you leaving him right there?" and "what happens next?!" But Wild was done where I ended it, and I thought that was it. When Milky requested Legend whump, it gave me an excuse to revisit this arc and give it an appropriate ending, with comfort to match! It was a good exercise in sensory writing, and also my first foray into comfort 🥰

[lia-land]

Caraval by Stephanie Garber

4.5/5

Spoilers for the first book in the Caraval series by Stephanie Garber.

I loved this book!!!

However, the more I think about it, the lower I want to rate it. You really do have to enjoy it on the surface, so I’m not going to it pick it apart as much as I’d like to here (and yet, somehow this still ended up being super long...). Quality wise, it’s a 4 star book at best, maybe even 3.5, but I had so much fun reading it.

I’ve seen a lot of criticism for this book and admittedly, I did go into it biased and expected to DNF but I thought this was amazing. When I say ‘amazing,’ I mean I really enjoyed reading it, not that the actual story and writing were amazing. It was good from page 1 and I read 1/3 the first time I opened it. I didn’t feel like I was waiting for it to pick up, because the pacing was consistent throughout. It’s fantasy, but in its own category. It’s kind of like a combination of the Wizard of Oz, Alice in Wonderland, and a bit of Coraline. Maybe a little Now You See Me. Whatever it is, I want more.

Here’s an example of why you should take this book on the surface and not think about: while writing this, I remembered that Caraval was meant to be a competition, but the plot didn’t acknowledge that. We were constantly told that Caraval was a game AND a competition, but we barely saw how any of the other players were progressing. The other players were so irrelevant that it really would have made no difference to the story whatsoever if they weren’t there. Not sure how an editor didn’t pick up on this. I think the publishing house is either Macmillan or Hachette, so what happened here? I’ve noticed that a lot of popular fantasy books recently have poor writing/plot holes and most of the time, they’re backed by one of these big publishing houses. I want quality > quantity to come back. You could argue that because this specific run of the game was designed for Scarlett to win, she never had any competition, but the point is that Scarlett didn’t know that. As readers, we also didn’t know that. It’s lazy to write that it’s a competition and have other players at the start to make us intrigued, just to later not do anything with it. The closest we got was when everyone was in Tella's room at the start.

The plot twists were interesting. I felt like it was incredibly obvious from the start that Julian was Legend, then he was, and then he wasn’t. But we still don’t actually know who Legend is, so we’re left wondering if he could still be revealed as Legend in the next book. A very interesting tactic from Garber and perhaps even a dig at current popular fantasy books where so many times, it feels like the author is treating the reader as someone who is not intelligent. Looking at you, Jennifer L. Armentrout.

Most of the criticism that I’ve come across is about the world building and how it’s basically non-existent. I disagree, I think this was a very immersive universe and a very unique one in YA, especially for the length of the book. Of course, if we compare this to current popular fantasy books with faeries and politics, then yes, the world building does not have the same level of detail in the sense that we don’t know what’s going on on a global scale, but Caraval doesn’t need that. So much of Caraval’s story relies on interpretation and mystery. More details would have taken away from that. This book is more about the characters and the game. Knowing the history of the world in Caraval wasn’t as necessary as knowing the history of the game. We were given what we needed and there’s a lot of fantasy series now with world building that is far too convoluted to get through, so this was a nice change.

This might be an unpopular opinion (update: it’s not) but I really wanted Legend to be the main love interest, and still do. Or at least for Julian to have been Legend the whole time. The way Legend was portrayed throughout the book and all the mystery surrounding him was intriguing, and I found Julian and Scarlett a bit odd since Scarlett was under the impression that Julian had also been with Tella. None of her inner dialogue acknowledged that, though. Her main reason was always the fact that she was engaged to a stranger, and never ‘my sister has hooked up with this guy.’

I didn’t notice this until after I finished Caraval, but there’s actually only two somewhat developed characters. Everyone except Scarlett and Julian were just extras with a few lines. Dante was somewhere in between, but then he died halfway through and we didn’t see much of him. Tella’s character became prominent only towards the end, which I suspect was only for the sake of writing a sequel, as Caraval was originally meant to be a standalone. For any other series, I’d consider this a really big negative, but Caraval’s focus is the game and the idea of Legend. There’s also a big theme of unfamiliarity and having no idea who Scarlett can trust, so for this specific series, it works.

Scarlett is not very interesting, but I didn’t dislike her. I felt the same way about Poppy from the Blood and Ash series, in the way that she felt like a lens for us to see the plot unfold, rather than her own character. Writing developed characters is not something that Garber does well or at all in this book, but I still enjoyed it nonetheless. I really just cared about the plot and finding out about Caraval’s intentions and Legend. Julian was also inconsistent, but I think that was meant to come across as unpredictable and mysterious. I feel like he’s still not entirely done with lying. I’m still waiting for him to end up being Legend.

The ending was underwhelming and overwhelming at the same time. Overwhelming because too much happened very rapidly with not enough explanation, and underwhelming because what did happen didn’t really seem worthy of the nearly 400 page build up. I kept waiting for another twist that made more sense. Again, I personally enjoyed it regardless, but I can acknowledge that it didn’t fit perfectly. I don't know if it gets cleared up in book two, but it was still a rushed ending. Since Caraval was originally written to be a standalone, it makes a lot more sense. I wonder if the intention was for us to never meet Legend at all. I actually think Caraval as a standalone story would have worked well, if not better.

Also, I don’t think Scarlett ate anything for the entirety of the game. I feel like there should have been at least one scene where she would be skeptical to have anything on Caraval since we know the food and drinks can have effects.

This is a book that I would love to see as a film or TV show adaptation. I might even enjoy it just as much as through a visual medium. As pretty as all the writing makes the settings out to be, I was a tiny bit bored of continuously reading descriptions towards the end of the book. As many have said, there is a lot of purple prose and some of the sentences might make you do a double take, but it’s not unbearable. It could definitely benefit from another round of editing, especially at the start, but once you get used to it, it’s fine (it definitely improves in the sequels). Reminds me of an old joke about English teachers and how they’ll tell you that blue curtains symbolise the characters’ depression and whatnot, when the author just meant that the curtains are blue. I feel like someone should tell Garber that sometimes, it’s okay for the curtains to just be blue. On the other hand, Caraval wouldn’t be Caraval without all the weird and wonderful settings, so it’s not that I want less description, but maybe striking a balance between comparing feelings to colours and describing colourful settings would make this perfect.

Honorary shoutout to the following sentences:

-“Scarlett had an emerald-green premonition that she would make a discovery inside.”

-“It tasted like the moment before night gives birth to morning.”

-“He tasted like midnight and wind, and shades of rich brown and light blue.”

All the vivid imagery made me want to make a very 2014 tumblr vibe playlist:

Young and Beautiful - Lana Del Rey

The Poison - The All-American Rejects

Wonderland - Taylor Swift

The Greatest Show - The Greatest Showman soundtrack

Disturbia - Rihanna

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived - Taylor Swift

The Writer - Ellie Goulding

Hotel California - Eagles

So It Goes… - Taylor Swift

House of Memories - Panic! At The Disco

The Black Dog - Taylor Swift

Starry Eyed- Ellie Goulding

I Hate It Here - Taylor Swift

Game of Survival - Ruelle

Figure 8 - Ellie Goulding

Centuries - Fall Out Boy

Mad Hatter - Melanie Martinez

[alwaysbewoke]

This is soooo weak. SO WEAK!!!

A new study published by the American Sociological Association, suggests that men — and, to a lesser extent, women — are far more likely to cheat when they are economically-dependent on a mate, at least when the subjects are Millennials. Contrary to some popular assumptions, the most stable family relationships happen in an atmosphere of equality, not a traditional role of a male breadwinner and stay-at-home wife and mother. The paper compared the likelihood of married people age 18 to 32 cheating on their spouses with the percentage of the household income they contributed. Of men who were completely financially dependent on their wives, 15% had an affair, compared to 5% of women. The numbers dropped as household income became even, at which point 3.4% of each cheated. At that point the behavior by gender significantly diverged. The greater the portion of household income women earned, the less likely they were to cheat, with only 1.5 percent of women who were the complete breadwinners having an extramarital affair. However, as men brought in a larger portion of the total income, the chance of their cheating increased, to 4% of those who brought home all the money. The study, called Her Support, His Support: Money, Masculinity, and Marital Infidelity looked at an ongoing source of data from the National Longitudinal Survey of Youth, which has tracked people since 1997. Author, Christin L. Munsch, an assistant professor of sociology at the University of Connecticut, told Fortune that the idea came years ago when several couples in her group of friends split up. “I was speaking with one of the young men and said, ‘Why did you cheat on her?'” Munsch said. “He said, ‘She had all the money and all the friends. I felt completely emasculated. I wasn’t happy in that relationship.’ I thought, ‘Wow, that’s really interesting.'”

Munsch looked across years at the number of sexual partners people reported and their marital status as well to determine whether they must have had sex outside their marriage. With fidelity as one proxy to satisfaction with a relationship she found that neither men nor women are happy being economically dependent on a partner. “But for men there’s something even worse about it,” she said. “That’s because we tell men they’re supposed to be breadwinners.” Munsch thought that male dissatisfaction channels into “masculine overcompensation,” through which men try to reestablish an expected gender role. As men provide more of the family’s income, they are more likely again to cheat. Munsch thought that opportunity may be the reason. “These men are probably in fairly powerful positions,” she said. That could mean travel, resources to hide infidelity, “and they have more people interested in having sex with them [because of their position and standing].” Although women who were in the upper economic bracket also likely had similar powerful positions, there are some differences. “We don’t see men throwing themselves at very successful women in the same way,” Munsch said. “Women [also] go to extreme lengths in this situation to shore up their husband’s masculinity. Because we know that women go to these lengths to keep their potentially strained relationships intact, they probably aren’t going to cheat.” Munsch’s conclusion? The most stable family relationships happen in an atmosphere of equality, not a traditional role of a male breadwinner and stay-at-home wife and mother. Munsch, however, also said that people shouldn’t draw alarmist conclusions if their spouse earns more. “They still only have a 15% chance of engaging in infidelity even when completely dependent on their wives,” she said. “I don’t want people to think ‘Oh my God, my husband is going to cheat on me because he’s dependent!’ We’re probably talking about a specific type of man who buys into a very traditional gender ideology.”

x

[voulezloux]

annual writing self-evaluation

thank you lou @nouies for the tag! having to do self reflection is hard yall

also i wrote this on a google doc so ignore the fact everything is properly capitalized

1. List of works published this year:

One chance (kiss him you fool)

Nights like these

Your right now, your forever, your last call, your whatever

Defying stars

Always had that heart of mine

Part time soulmates (full time problem)

It’s the summer of our love

If it feels like love (then it must be love)

Make my wish come true

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

Defying stars! I’ve always wanted to write a marching band au and i finally got to do it. I’m also proud of part time soulmates (full time problem) because it was so much fun to write

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

I am not very happy with how one chance (kiss him you fool) turned out. I had so many idea for it and none of them came to fruition. I wish i spent more time working on it and i wish i could describe things better than i can

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

From part time soulmates (full time problem)

Harry nods, continuing his tirade on a table. “Why don’t you want to bond?”

Louis freezes mid throw. “What?”

“You said you didn’t want to bond when we first found out. What makes you not want to bond?” 

Louis throws the plate on the ground. “That’s a bit personal, innit?” He laughs. “My mum.”

The air is filled with a sad smell, obviously coming from Louis. Harry resists the urge to wrap his arm around the omega, to comfort him. His stomach is turning in a bad way, and he wants to take back the question. 

Before he can, Louis continues, “My mum was bonded three times, twice it failed. Watching her go through the pain of breaking a bond was awful, and I had to protect my siblings from seeing the worst of it. I always…” He sighs. “I always thought I’d be an alpha so I could control when I would get bonded. But then I presented as an omega and I, I don’t know. I guess everything changed and I didn’t want to go through the pain an omega would have to go through if a bond was broken.”

Harry is left speechless, and it’s harder now to not want to console the omega. “Louis…”

“No, don’t do that,” Louis points the plate in his hand he was going to throw at Harry. “You’re not about to feel bad for the poor omega who has trauma. You’re going to smash this plate and you’re going to be mad.”

I always love strong, independent omega louis and this is by far one of my favorite examples of this

5. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

I always love when people respond to my author’s notes at the end. Idk it makes me feel like people actually care about what i’m writing and i’m not just screaming into the void. I have a lot of issues with feeling like my works are liked and/or loved and that people care about what i’m writing, so when people read and respond to my author’s notes, it makes me feel seen.

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

Whenever i get close to a deadline, i start panicking even if i have the fic most of the way finished. So, deadlines man.

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

I wrote two rare pairs this year and one of them included ryan ross! Writing ryan was a challenge since i’ve not written anything that wasn’t larry or phan in years, and i’m very happy with how that fic turned out.

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

I have no idea. Someone tell me how i grew as a writer bc i’m los

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

Hopefully more fics that are of my own will (meaning non fic fest fics, all but one of my fics this year was a fic fest fic, and the one that wasn’t from a fest was an exchange). I have ideas that have been put on the back burner due to fic fests.

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

All of my friends, but especially rei (they don’t use tumblr anymore). I met rei during phandom big bang one year (they were my beta) and, even though they are into kpop and i’m into 1d, rei always listens to my coked up ideas for fics i wanna write and even the fics i read. Love you bro (even though you won’t see this) (jk i'll show this to them)

Bonus mentions for fandom friends are lou (@nouies) and andi (@tommokat). Lou because she is a wonderful person and always gasses me up when needed and andi because she lets me bounce ideas off of her and helps me with my fics.

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

Yes! Defying stars i stole a lot of things from that fic from my real life in high school. Biggest example from that fic is the marching band show from my freshman year, which was also called starcrossed!

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

Do not get discouraged if a fic you are excited about doesn’t perform well with readers. Fic in it of itself is self indulgent and as long as you like it, it’s worth writing. If people also enjoy it, then it’s a bonus.

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

I’m writing in my first ever 1d big bang! I don’t want to give out too many details (it involves a non conventional character and i’m deathly terrified of backlash) but it’s a labor of love. I’ve been wanting to write this kind of fic for a long time and i’m glad i have an opportunity to write it.

14. Tag three writers whose answers you’d like to read!

@tommokat @larryatendoftheday and @alwaysxlarrie

*All answers should be about works published in 2023

[ignus-moth]

I got curious because I know my mother doesn’t have any ID with her maiden name, and wanted to send her something.

This is the article the Twitter OP links, which has no references or citations in regards to the SAVE Act and name changes (beyond literally linking the entire bill you'd have to comb through yourself). It also has a donation link on the page, encouraging people scared about Trump to donate so they can continue reporting. Kinda sleezy.

It does have a quote from the National Organization for Women (NOW) that mentions voter ID laws disproportionately affect women due to their names not matching exactly, and some are turned away. When was this written?

2014. This was a problem before SAVE. So NOW makes no mention of it. This isn't a source for information (at least on SAVE) it's a source agreeing with the article about the general idea.

It was posted 3 days ago, and so far, is the first mention of this in regards to the SAVE act. Everything else is within the past 48 hours.

The only other article I could find was a day ago, and was suspicious it was going to say everything the first one did but angrier, which it was. It used the exact same quote from NOW, even.

It's a derivative of the first article and I wouldn't be surprised if they got "help" from ChatGPT.

Then, I found this, listed as 3 days ago. Perhaps it has additional information. Alright, let’s see-

Ah. It links back to the first article. The one that has no sources. The one that makes claims with nothing to back it up.

So, why don’t I trust this article? Well, first of all, it has profanity in it, and has an overall unprofessional tone. This isn’t meant to inform, but get people angry.

But that wasn’t enough to write it off, so I went to the actual SAVE Act itself. And this is the only thing I could find:

“(5) A valid government-issued photo identification card issued by a Federal, State or Tribal government other than an identification described in paragraphs (1) through (4), but only if presented together with one or more of the following:

“(A) A certified birth certificate issued by a State, a unit of local government in a State, or a Tribal government which— “(i) was issued by the State, unit of local government, or Tribal government in which the applicant was born; “(ii) was filed with the office responsible for keeping vital records in the State; “(iii) includes the full name, date of birth, and place of birth of the applicant; “(iv) lists the full names of one or both of the parents of the applicant; “(v) has the signature of an individual who is authorized to sign birth certificates on behalf of the State, unit of local government, or Tribal government in which the applicant was born; “(vi) includes the date that the certificate was filed with the office responsible for keeping vital records in the State; and “(vii) has the seal of the State, unit of local government, or Tribal government that issued the birth certificate.

Here's a link to that section. There's other options of things you can present instead of a birth certificate.

There is nothing that indicates the name on the birth certificate and presented ID have to match. I bolded the only really relevant part of the quote.

The article used voting and women's suffrage for an eye-catching and scary title. It doesn't mention the problem Twitter OP is talking about until halfway through.

As of right now, not taking into account the SAVE Act, you can register your married name into the voting database and present an ID with your married name at the polls. Here's a USA.gov site that tells you how.

THIS IS NOT TO BLAME THE TUMBLR OP! I don't blame you for trusting an article. I just wanted to clear this up.

ALSO! If I missed anything please let me know :D

Basically republicans want to make it so your ID has to match your birth certificate which affects everyone from trans people to married women to immigrants.

Meanwhile, in GA, they're going to force all ballots to be hand counted, which could make it difficult to meet the deadline to certify the vote, and thus potentially allow them to give the state to Trump regardless of the outcome.

In many states, such as Ohio, Florida, Texas and North Carolina, they've been purging voters from the rolls by the millions.

If voting didn't matter, why are they trying so damn hard to stop us?

[spiritsoulandbody]

#DailyDevotion The Father Disciplines Those He Loves

#DailyDevotion The Father Disciplines Those He Loves Heb. 12 4In your struggle against sin you haven't yet resisted to the point where your blood has flowed. 5And you have forgotten the encouragement spoken to you as sons: My son, don't think lightly of the Lord's training or give up when He corrects you. 6The Lord corrects whom He loves, and He whips everyone He accepts as His son. 7What you endure is to correct you. God is treating you as His sons. Is there a son whom his father doesn't correct? 8All sons are corrected; if you're not corrected, you're not sons but are illegitimate. 9Furthermore, our natural fathers used to correct us, and we respected them. Shouldn't we much more be willing to put ourselves under the authority of the Father of spirits and live? 10They corrected us for a short time as it seemed best to them. But He corrects us for our good, to have us share His holiness. 11While we're being corrected, it always seems unpleasant and painful. But after we've been trained, correction gives us the peaceful fruit of righteousness. I wish Christians would read this section more often. They would likely, if they took it to heart, not be so despondent with God nor think of Him as cruel and mean. Too many Christians today, at least in America, have bought into the health and wealth gospel preached on TV, the big box Churches, and the heretical books in Christian bookstores and on Walmart endcaps and special displays. No one uses discernment any longer. Well that's my rant. I hope you joined me in it and said Amen. The Christian life is a cross. We live under the cross and on the cross. The cross is shameful. It is painful. It is full of loss. It is everything Jesus promised us in this life. When you became a Christian, when you were baptized and adopted by God in Christ, you became a son to Him. If life seems to be going crappy for you God is treating you like His sons. Don't believe me? Look at Jesus on the cross. He is the Only-begotten Son of God. If He treats His own Son, begotten of Him from eternity, will He treat you less differently? God disciplines His sons and you are His sons. Do not treat His discipline lightly or with contempt. Our Maker knows us better than ourselves. He knows what we need to mortify our fleshly desires, to dampen our sinful thoughts and desires, to purify our hearts, minds and souls, and to make us holy. His discipline is really tough. Our fathers corrected and disciplined us. They did what they thought was best. Maybe our problem today is our fathers haven't disciplined us which is what causes us to go into shock when God our Father does. I have coaches that disciplined me from football, to martial arts, to combative fighting. They have pushed me far further than I thought I could go and I was better for it afterwards. God our Father corrects us for our good so we may share in His holiness. His discipline, if we do not shun and despise it, produces the peace of righteousness. This is nothing new. For further reading on this go to Romans 5:3-5, 8:18; 2 Cor. 1:3-7, 4:7-18, 12:9-10; Eph. 3:13; Phil. 1:29; James 1:2-3; 1 Pet. 1:6-7, 4:13, 5:1. The Father tried to discipline the Israelites in the wilderness but they would not receive it. As you suffer and undergo many trials, know that this is from the hand of a loving Father who does know what is best for you more than you know yourself. We thought our parents were stupid when we were teens and found out when we grew up they were mostly correct. How much more are we like this as children to the Heavenly Father? We don't have to wait, we can just trust He does know what is best and we will see it on the other side. All Gracious and Merciful Father, grant that we receive Your discipline and correction with faith so we may receive the fruit of it—glory, holiness, and peace. In Jesus' name we pray. Amen. Read the full article

[godeaterazathoth]

a new style that came to me, still inspired by kiss me (kill me)

CW// body horror, implied toxic relationship.

This is a transcript of an audio recording recovered from the scene at ■■■■, ■■■■, on ■■/■■/■■■■, where witnesses reported hearing screams, when authorities investigated, they found multiple bodies stuck together by their ■■■■■ and covered in ■■■■■ and their ■■■■■ filled with ■■■■. This transcript will serve as evidence and as tool for investigation, it will be split into three parts. (part 1, part 2 and part 3) Each part will be concluded with a summary of its contents. Then a conclusion to the evidence will be made to be presented as the accepted version of events.

Part 1

[1]

I [2] love you, and I know you [3] love me too. [4]

1 female speaker in white

speaker is believed to be unidentified female victim 7.

 3 the ‘you’ is believed to be unidentified female victim 8.

 4 it is clear here that victims 7 and 8 had a romantic relationship.  Or did they?

We’ll meet at our spot down by the broken shed [5].

5 the stated landmark allows for the victims routs to be plotted, the shed was at the south entrance of the forest, the victims were found 2 miles northeast from this point.

I’ll take your hand and together we’ll walk on the trail marked on your brothers [6] map.

 6 ■■■■■■■■

You in my sun dress and me in your flowered hat. [7]

7 all victims were stripped of clothes, but a sun hat was found not far from the scene, traces of an unknown black substance, see lab results -> ■■■■

You walk me hand in hand past faded warnings [8], I’ll help you over the broken wall [9], we’ll lift the wire fence [10].

8 warnings? Old trail markings maybe. Or something else entirely?

9 passed through old shelter? Too far west not consistent.

10 there were no wire or mesh fencing in the forest anywhere near the scene or the proposed root.

Strike up my Walkman, we’ll watch the blowfly band jive under the silver moon [11].

11 this could simply be poetic imagery, don’t look too deep into it.

Darling. Kiss me. [12]

12 a far more forceful tone than before in the speakers voice brings up questions to the victims relationship. (see note 4)

Here we can see the two victims, 7 and 8, first enter the forest they would be found in later, the two victims appear to be romantically linked, or at least victim 7 believes they are. It can be surmised that the two enter the forest at the south entrance by ■■■■■ street, and slowly make their way northeast throughout the night. Autopsy repot shows 7 and 8 were only killed 30 (approx.)  minutes before their discovery, lining up with the screams reported at ■■:■■, we can guess that the journey took both victims 1 hour from the length of the full recording.

Part 2

(NOTE, at this point it is evident that the sights mentioned from this point onward of the recording yield little useful information. Descriptions appear to be the product of delirium or otherwise altered perception. Psychoactive substances involved? -or something else entirely?)

NO EXAMINATION NEEDED.

Let’s run amongst the melting leaves.

 You’re just going to ignore the melting?

Let’s kiss on the dead brown grass.

The air is so sweet, but everything is covered in rotting meat.

They didn’t listen to the warnings.

It got so cold.

Wait

What was your brother’s name? [1]

1 Who???????????????????????????????????????????????????

Why,

Dose this bark feel just like  ₕᵁₘᴬₙ ₛᴷᵢᴺ ?

Help me

Why do the trees have veins?

Do you see any bugs on me? I can feel the

oozing

squirming and

creeping

inside me.

She clawed at her skin till it bleeds but it didn’t work.

Ԑ TЯAꟼ

(NOTHING SPOKEN WITHIN THIS NEXT SECTION IS TO BE MENTIONED OUTSIDE OF THIS REPORT. No useful information is present and is strictly a symptom of delusion. DO NOT ATTEMPT to analyse. – don’t listen to them. The department might believe there was nothing to this, but YOU know so much more than them.)

Don’t worry my love it’s all better now,

come here let me hold you,

make you strong.

Let me open you up fill your veins up with the eggs, harden your bones and let you’re your skin slough . [1]

1 Her voice… genuinely thinks… good…

After a second of pain, we can finally be together forever.

Say ‘I love you’.

[END OF TRANSCRIPT]

After investigating thoroughly, no workable leads could be found. Report ends ■■/■■/■■■■

NOTHING HAPPENED, IT WAS AN ANIMAL ATTACK, LOVERS SUICIDE, AN UNFORTUNATE ACCIDENT

AND EVEN IF YOU DID FIND SOMETHING

WHO WOULD BELIVE YOU????

[just-call-me-angel]

Little Miss Loser

Chapter 5 - Feelings are Stupid

Warnings: None

Author's Note: I really wanted to get this update out a lot sooner but I've been having a rough couple of days. The next update will be out either this weekend or Monday. Thank you guys for being so incredibly patient with me! I also really appreciate all the love you guys have been showing me for this fic! Honestly, the love and encouragement you guys have been offering me have been really helpful for me since I started writing again, and I really can't thank you guys enough for that.

Summary: It was hard to lie when he was looking at you. How could he not like you? He could still remember the day he realized his feelings for you went beyond friendship like it was yesterday.

Ao3

Chapters: || 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 ||

Dwayne by nature was a pessimist. He expected the worst and was usually proven right. So he wasn’t the least bit confused when the bus began to stall and his stepfather was forced to call a tow truck to cart the bus off to a roadside mechanic not far from the diner they had stopped at for Lunch. 

It was almost funny how often his family seemed to find trouble. Dwayne especially enjoyed the fact that Richard often got the worst of it. It was all too entertaining to hear Richard go on and on about the 9 steps to being a winner when the man had such shit luck most of the time. 

Still, it was a bit annoying to have to sit in some junkyard while waiting for his mother and Richard to finish talking with the mechanic. He watched from an old beat-up car as you ran around the junkyard with Olive, chasing one another back and forth. He couldn’t help smiling at how much you and his sister got along. He liked knowing there was someone else who looked out for Olive as much as he did.

“You like her don’t you?” Frank whispered beside him, giving Dwayne a knowing smile when he turned to face him wide-eyed. Dwayne sat there staring at his uncle, brows furrowed in worry and cheeks already flushed bright red. 

Frank chuckled and lightly elbowed Dwayne in the arm, “Come on don’t deny it, I’ve seen the way you look at her.” Dwayne began shaking his head rapidly as he fumbled for his notebook in an attempt to deny his Uncle’s claims. 

Pressing his pen to his notebook aggressively he wrote, “Shut up.”

Frank laughed again, shaking his head as he moved to pat Dwayne on the shoulder, “Dwayne I’m not going to tell anyone.” he said softly as Dwayne shuffled nervously beside him.

 Dwayne relaxed slightly but still gave his uncle a skeptical look. 

“I swear to you Dwayne I won’t tell her.” Frank promises, “Though you should know she looks at you the same way.” 

Dwayne rolled his eyes, scoffing before writing quickly beneath his previous note, “Yeah right.”

Frank opened his mouth as if prepared to argue against Dwayne’s denial but seemed to think better of it, sighing as he looked over at you and Olive still running around the junkyard. You noticed Dwayne and Frank watching you and grinned at the two of them, waving excitedly before diving after Olive as she moved to run around you.

“Do you like her for a while?” he asked quietly.

Dwayne doesn’t know why he even nods. This had been one of the many things he had been worried about when you were invited along on the trip. His family found out about how he felt towards you and would ruin everything. Yet he finds himself nodding almost immediately as he stares across the junkyard at you. 

It was hard to lie when he was looking at you. How could he not like you? He could still remember the day he realized his feelings for you went beyond friendship like it was yesterday.

It had been just after he had taken his vow of silence. You had been the first to support him in his decision, “I’ll talk enough for the two of us don’t worry.” is what you had told him after teasing him a bit, “Just promise you’ll sneak me onto a jet at least once, okay?” 

It hadn’t been hard to maintain his vow while at home, he rarely spoke to anyone besides you and Olive anyways. But school was a bit more of a struggle. He was already a quiet kid and had never been a stranger to the teasings of dickheaded classmates. It didn’t bother him, he tended to ignore it most of the time, while you were always so quick to jump to his defense. 

Even before the two of you officially became friends you were always looking out for him. It had been annoying at first, he didn't want you to protect him. But it felt good to have someone watching his back, especially when he had been so intent on ignoring you. 

You never seemed to be willing to give up on him, even back then when word got out that he’d taken to communicating with pen and paper kids found even more reason to make fun of him. And you as usual refused to let your classmates get away with making fun of your best friend.

As if your classmates weren’t already bad enough, your teachers were often less than accommodating for Dwayne.

One such teacher was your third-period Algebra 2 teacher. Mr. George Keating was an angry old man, twice divorced, who hated kids and hated his job. Really you had no idea why he had even ever become a teacher in the first place, not only did he hate his job, he was just plain bad at it. And he was always hellbent on going after students he deemed to be problems. These students of course mostly consisted of the queer kids, the kids with problems at home, the kids with learning disabilities, and of course the quiet loner types like your dear friend Dwayne. 

“Mr. Hoover, I'd like for you to tell me the answer to problem 5 of last night's homework.” M.r Keating called out above the quiet chatter of students around you. Dwayne exhaled deeply, casting you a bored look from the seat next to you. You chuckled quietly as he shuffled to grab his pen and paper to write down the answer, before showing it to you. He had taken to letting you read his answers aloud in classes that you had together, most teachers seemed to accept that as long as Dwayne participated in some way. You leaned closer to him to read over his shoulder smiling at the way he always seemed to make his handwriting a little neater when he needed you to be able to read it, “the answer to problem 5 is-” 

Mr. Keating waved a hand to interrupt you, “I don’t recall asking you for the answer miss (Y/N) (L/N).” 

You stared at him for a moment, brows furrowed in annoyance at his interruption. The entire class was suddenly silent as you tried to speak again, ‘M.r Keating–” 

He waved his hand in the air again, stepping a little closer to you as he tossed the dry erase marker he had been using onto his desk, “As I said, miss (L/N) I did not ask you for the answer, I asked Dwayne.” 

You looked then at Dwayne who was fidgeting with his notebook, clearly uncomfortable with the attention he was receiving. 

“I’ll ask again, Mr. Hoover, what is the answer to problem 5?” 

Dwayne shuffled and turned his notebook to allow Mr. Keating to read his answer from the paper.

“I expect a verbal answer from Mr. Hoover.” 

Dwayne blinked at Mr. Keating for a moment and then turned to your brows furrowed in frustration.

You immediately argued with your teacher, “Mr. Keating, Dwayne’s taken a vow of silence, you can’t expect him to–” 

“I have tolerated this game of yours long enough Mr. Hoover. I am not as lenient as your other teachers and I will not allow you to continue this charade in my classroom, it is a distraction to your classmate's learning.” You could see Dwayne’s knuckles going white as he gripped his notebook and you couldn’t blame him, you were fuming, nearly ready to leap over your desk and bite Mr. Keating’s arm or something.

“Mr. Keating-” you were interrupted again with a wave of your teacher's hand in front of your face.

“I will ask one last time, Mr. Hoover, what is the answer to question number 5.”

Dwayne shook his head and moved to show his notebook one last time.

Mr. Keating huffed as he looked around the room at the sea of students watching him, finally he looked down at Dwayne, “I will not allow this kind of disrespect in my classroom any longer, you are disrupting your classmates learning, grab your things and go to the principal's office at once, and expect to be staying after school for detention for a while.” 

Dwayne exhaled a shaky breath but stood up, shoving his things into his bookbag, and casting a glance at you before shoving past Mr. Keating towards the door.

You spoke up as he was reaching the door, “Hey Mr. Keating.” you said, shuffling to gather your own things, “maybe if you got that stick out of your ass you’d be less of a dick to your students.” 

Mr. Keating was nearly purple in the face, practically choking on air as he gaped at you in shock. Laughter scattered throughout the classroom as you shoved your things into your bookbag, glancing at the door to find Dwayne standing there staring at you.

Mr. Keating fumbled to respond, waving his hand to silence the laughter of your classmates before turning to you and pointing at the door.

You stood up before he could even say a word, slinging your bag over one shoulder as you gave him a smug smile, “Let me guess… Principal's office?” 

“Out.” he fumed, “Now. Miss (L/N)”

“With pleasure Mr. Keating,” you laughed, shuffling around your desk and striding confidently over to where Dwayne still stood at the door. You beamed at him, shoving the door open with your elbow, before turning back to Mr. Keating, “see ya on the flip side Mr. K!” you said with a wave as you pulled Dwayne along with you to exit the room.

Dwayne was at a loss for words– or rather he was at a loss for thoughts. You had defended him time and time again and had often gotten into trouble on his behalf, your mother had even threatened to stop letting you hang around with Dwayne because she thought he was a bad influence. But you didn’t need Dwayne to find trouble, you did that well enough all on your own. 

You walked with him with a skip in your step as you made your way to the Principles giggling about how stupid Mr. Keating had looked when the class was laughing at him. All while Dwayne was coming to a very important realization 

He liked you– well he had always liked you. But this was different. He liked the way you were so protective of him. He liked that you were loud and obnoxious. He liked that you didn’t take shit from people who wanted to put you down. He liked the way you sometimes snorted when you laughed too hard. He liked that despite teasing him constantly you were incredibly easy to fluster without even trying. He liked that you sought him out for comfort and he liked that the two of you had a secret place in Tingley Beach. And he liked–

He liked you more than a friend should. 

Dwayne felt himself smiling at the memory before he realized Frank was looking at him, grinning like he knew all of Dwayne’s secrets. He probably did. It would be Dwayne’s shitty luck to find another person who seemed to be able to see right through his bullshit. 

Dwayne stood up before Frank could say another word, he desperately wanted to escape the conversation. He refused to let this trip and his stupid fucking feelings ruin the relationship he had with you. Frank followed after him quickly, almost as stubborn and tenacious as you were half the time, any other day, and Dwayne might have found the comparison a bit funny. 

“Dwayne I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about it if you don't want to.” Frank sighed, walking as fast as he could to match Dwayne’s pace, “But I’m here if you ever decide you do want to talk about it.” 

Dwayne shook his head, taking longer strides to walk ahead of his uncle as he made his way to where his mother and Richard were talking with the Mechanic. Dwayne didn’t understand why his Uncle even cared, the guy hadn’t seen him since he was like 10. And why didn’t he seem to understand how fucking badly this could end if you ever found out. 

He shuffled into the old garage, standing in the doorway to watch as Richard and his Mom tried haggling with the Mechanic. He heard a noise behind him but didn’t move to see who it was, he assumed it was probably Frank. Until of course, he felt someone slam into his back and he knew as soon as he heard a snort and laughter that it was you.

Dwayne stumbled for a moment before catching himself, while you scrambled to jump onto his back, wrapping your arms over his shoulders. Dwayne grunted but didn't try to push you away, instead he crouched slightly and moved to pull your legs up around his waist to lift you into a piggyback ride.

You giggled, hugging him over his shoulders, “Hiya Dwayne.” 

He grunted and rolled his eyes, tilting his head slightly to poke his tongue out at you. You only grinned wider at him, “Are you having fun yet?” He shrugged and shifted to carry you more comfortably on his back, jostling you around a bit in the process.

“Hey watch it, tough guy, you’re gonna drop me.” you laughed, holding tighter to his shoulders, while he gave you a smirk and shifted again purposefully pretending to drop you and then grinning when you squealed and grappled to hang on to him. 

“Okay okay okay!” you giggled, “I surrender, please don’t drop me.” He jostled you once more, before giving you a smug smile when he playfully smacked his chest, “God ya know you should be nicer to me since I’m your best friend and all.” He shrugged, laughing softly to himself before crouching slightly to let you down. You hung tightly onto him for a moment longer before allowing him to let you down and you shuffled to his side to stand next to him, bumping your elbows together as the two of you watched Richard grow frustrated with the mechanic.

You leaned into Dwayne’s side, tugging his arm to get his attention as you gestured towards Richard, “how much longer before he explodes?” you teased, “Seriously his face looks like it's about to pop.”

Dwayne just shook his head and smiled while you laughed next to him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his uncle watching their interaction, and he couldn’t help feeling like his uncle was planning something despite his promises not to interfere with Dwayne’s friendship. 

[clone-whore-99]

Troublemaker

Chapter 2: Work, Armor and... Clones?

The Bad Batch x f!Reader

Warnings: I don't think there is any warnings in this? Not as much angst, more chill. Crosshair is being an annoying tease. LMK if I missed anything

Authors note: Who, me? Writing fanfiction instead of dealing with my real life issues? It's more likely than you think. This chapter was originally going to be way longer, but I decided to split it into two chapters instead. Also, thank you guys so much for the love I've received on the first chapter! It was so amazing, I never could've thought people were actually gonna be interested in this! So thank you guys so much!

If you like it, please do let me know by liking and commenting and maybe even reblogging, it would mean a lot to me 🥺👉👈

Chapter 1: Arriving at Kamino

-

Chapter 3: Let it out

Chapter 4: You shouldn't have done that

Chapter 5: Talk about it

Chapter 6: The 20 Questions Game

Chapter 7: Crosshair

Chapter 8: Echoes of the Past

Chapter 9: The Fight

Chapter 10: A Nice Change of Air

Chapter 11: Sore Muscles

Chapter 12: Heavy Rain Weights the Mind

Chapter 13: Waste of Time

A loud noise woke you up. You had fallen asleep on the floor and now your body was punishing you for it, making every muscle ache as you slowly stood up. What time was it? How long had you been asleep?

Another loud noise, matched with flash of light. You looked out the window. To say it was pouring down would be an understatement. The rain was so heavy, you could barely see the sea right below you. But at least you quickly found the source of the noise and the lights. Surprise, surprise, it was thunder and lightning.

Realising you hadn't had anything to eat since you left Coruscant - not that a rations bar was much food in itself - you decided to head towards the kitchen. Even with the lights off, the hallways were still unsettling to walk through. They were so bare, so white, too much like a hospital and nothing at all like a home. How could anyone comfortably live like this?

"Hello, miss," Lazie greeted you, as you entered the kitchen. "Have you come for your meal?"

"Eh... Yea, I guess? How'd you know?"

"Living organisms need food in order to fuel their energy source. You have not eaten since leaving your home on Coruscant, meaning you have gone far too long with no fuel. I tried to bring you some food earlier, but you were asleep, another necessity for regaining energy."

You just blinked slowly at the small droid. You were definitely not awake enough for this conversation.

"Sooo.... Food?"

"Ah, yes, apologies for my ramblings. It will be ready in a minute, please do have patience."

The kitchen and the living room was actually just one big room. And for a room so big, it felt so empty. It had furniture alright, but they were clearly never used. You smirked to yourself. Seems like it was up to you, to give this furniture a reason for it's existence.

"Here is your food, miss. Please enjoy." Lazie said, carrying a tray of the most boring, bland-looking food you had ever seen. Was this what your dad always ate?

You thanked the droid and sat down at the small table, that was designated for eating. While eating, you stared out the big window that covered an entire wall, letting yourself get hypnotised by how the rain hit large glass.

It's not that it didn't rain on Coruscant. It did. But never this much, and the rain would rarely reach down to the level you lived in. You had pretty much only experienced the rain, when you were heading up to the higher levels for school. That was one of the only good things, having a parent working for the Republic. You actually managed to get a decent education out of it.

"Mornin' sweetcheeks!" Your dads voice pulled you away from your train of thoughts. "Finally getting some grub, huh? Is it good?" His voice was awfully chipper, considering it was barely 0400.

"it's.... Edible," You reply, turning to face him. Stars, he looked old. He had only been gone 3 years, but he looked at least 10 years older. How hard were they working him? "I'd much rather have some of your famous blue-milk pancakes."

"Maybe another time," he said, as he made himself a cup of caf. "You should probably hit the 'fresher and then put on the suit I left on your desk. You're coming to work with me."

"Work? I don't even know what you do, Dad." You stood up, walking over to get yourself some caf. Your dad quickly moved to stand in the way, giving you one of those annoying cheeky dad smiles.

"Well, then you're about to find out. You're not here for a vaction Y/N, you're here because you assaulted someone. Which is serious. Maybe getting some structure and work ethics would be good for you. Now, get going, we can't be late." Your dad grabbed your shoulder and lightly pushed you towards the refresher.

You wanted to interrupt him, reminding him that you hadn't done anything wrong, that the bastard deserved to get punched, but you didn't get the chance. Instead, you just walked towards the refresher, while yelling in the most annoyed-kid voice you could muster: "You're such a dad!"

"That's my job!" He cheerfully replied.

Your shower had been cut short. Just as the warm water was about to ease your tense muscles, your dad had pounded on the door, demanding you hurried up. And you had barely been able to put on the gray jumpsuit and black work boots your dad left on the desk, before he was pulling you out the door and towards his job. Which, he had still not told you what it was.

Dad was grumbling about being late, while he was walking fast steps, causing you to semi-run in order to keep up with him. You had suggested that he could just head to work without you, which he apparently did not find amusing. Old him would have.

"Ha! Told ya he'd show, you now owe me two credits!" A voice boomed through the hangar.

You stopped moving, as a man larger than life was heading towards you. Or, more precisely, towards your father. You had never seen a man so big - at least, a human man - and you were pretty sure he could just snap you half, if he wanted to.

"I never agreed to that bet, Wrecker! I was just stating -" the stranger from yesterday was following the giant, his index finger raised in protest.

Your stomach was pulling knots, as the memories from the previous day came flooding back with the stranger. He seemed to be friends with the giant, and you silently prayed that he wasn't mad about how you treated him. You were never one to shy away from a fight, but you definitely wouldn't be able to win one against him.

"See anything you like, Dollface?" the hot breathe hitting the shell of your ear, was contrasting the rather cold voice that spoke. It caused a shiver to run down your spine and land deep down in your stomach.

You squeeled out a yelp, as you instinctively reached up to cover your ear and spun around with a step back. That caused everybody's attention to land on you. Great.

The owner of the voice had leaned down to reach your ear, but now that you were facing him, he straightened back up. He was slim and tall and had this annoying smug smirk on his face, clearly amused over the reaction you gave him. At least he had been kind enough to tattoo a big mark around his right eye, giving you something to aim for when you hit him.

"Right, I should probably introduce you," your dad cut in, stopping you, before you even had the chance to raise your hand. He placed a hand around your shoulder and pulled into a somewhat sideways hug. "Guys, this is my daughter, Y/N. Y/N, this is Wrecker, Tech, Crosshair, and..." he had pointed at each guy as he announced them, but stopped in his tracks to look around. "Where's Hunter?"

"Still testing out the new filters you added to his helmet." Tech answered.

"Oh well, you'll meet him later." Your dad continued, giving you a small squeeze. "This is Clone Force 99, also known as The Bad Batch." "Clones!?" you could not hide the shock in your voice or the surprised look on your face. If you had seen one clone, you had seen them all, and these guys definitely did not look like any other clone.

"Surprised?" you managed to catch the yelp in your throat this time, as the hot breathe once again hit the shell of your ear. It had once again caused a shiver down your spine and for you to protectively cover your ear from the man named Crosshair. He just gave you another smug look and you just glared back at him. It was like he was begging for you to hit him.

"Yea, clones," your dad laughed. He started walking over to his workshop and you quickly followed suit, wanting to create some distance between you and Crosshair. "They're defective clones, with desirable mutations, which is why they come here a lot."

You scrunched your nose at his description. How could he ever describe another being as 'defective'? Like they were objects, rather than people. The dad you knew would never say such a thing.

"I make adjustments, upgrades and whatnots to the clone armor." He said, as he opened up the door to his workshop.

A wave of relieve came over you at the view. This felt more like home. The walls were still blinding white, but they were covered in artwork and family photos and pieces of armor that has been painted in all kinds of weird ways. It was clear your dad obviously spent most of his time here.

With a pat on your back, your dad brought your focus back to him. "You can help Wrecker. I worked with him last on that workstation," he pointed to a table with a holo projector connected to it. "So his blueprints should still be there."

"I still don't know how any of this works, though..." You reminded him.

"You'll figure it out." He was already starting up his own workstation. When he noticed you weren't moving, he gave you a stern look. "This is not a democracy, Y/N, it's a dictatorship. Now get going!"

"Yea, a dictatorship, alright.." You muttered under your breathe, as you walked towards the workstation. Your dad shot you a warning look, but you ignored it. He always used that phrase, when he didn't want to fight with you. It always annoyed you.

Wrecker jumped onto the worktable, which surprisingly didn't cave under his weight. He drummed his fingers against the side of the table, as he looked everywhere but at you. You kinda appreciated it, since you were struggling to figure out how to work the kaminoan technology.

"Soooo....." Wrecker dragged out, not even letting a minute pass in silence. "What's it like being a girl?"

You couldn't stop the laughter that erupted from that question. It was so genuine and so innocent. "I can honestly say, I don't think I've ever been asked that before. Well, how much time have you got?" You say, as you quickly catch your breathe again. You smile at him.

Wrecker smiles back and by the maker, it was the most genuine and sincere smiles you had gotten in a long time. It made you ease up a bit. Maybe being here wouldn't be so bad anyways?

You finally managed to turn on the projector and a blue holo of Wreckers armor lit up in front of you. So far so good.

"So, what's the issue?" You ask, studying the projection.

"Erm, it's my vibroblade. We tried attaching it to my wrist gauntlet, like we did Hunters, but it gets in the way of fighting." He said, as he took off the armor piece that was covering his left forearm.

You pick up the gauntlet to study it closer. Stars it was heavier than it looked. But you had to agree with just the looks of it - the blade was too big for it's placement to be convenient in any way.

"Yea, it's a bit.... A lot." You chuckle, at loss for a better word to describe it. "So, what should we do about it?" You looked hopeful at the clone.

Wrecker chuckled. "You're the one who's supposed to figure that out!" He gave you a friendly slap on the shoulder, definitely leaving a bruise in it's wake.

"Well....." You rubbed your arm nervously, both to soothe the spot he hit, and as a way to calm your nerves. You suddenly felt very exposed with how little you knew of this job. You looked at the gauntlet again, then back up at the blueprints. "How about you tell me about your fighting style?" you looked back at Wrecker, hoping he could spark some confidence in you. "That way, I might be able to figure out where it would be best to place the blade, without it interfering with your fighting style."

The giant man lit up like the streetlights on Coruscant. He was more than happy to tell you about his fighting style, which often got sidetracked with stories of different missions he and his brothers had gone on. It was fun to hear, even if it made your work take longer.

As the hours passed, Wrecker continued to tell you about how he would fight. And your dad only had to do his classic fake cough to get the two of you back on track with the job a couple of times.

In the meantime, your dad continued to work with Tech, trying to find a way for him to carry as much as possible on him, in as little packaging as possible. And although Wrecker managed to make you feel more relaxed than you had in a long time, there was still this unsettling feeling creeping up behind you.

Ever since you entered the workshop, Crosshair had kept his distance. He had found a wall on the opposite end of the shop to lean against. And he hadn't moved from that spot since. Nor had he taken his eyes off of you. You could feel them piercing through the back of your head, no matter how much you tried to ignore it. What even was his deal? Didn't he have anything better to do, than to chew on toothpicks and stare you down?

"Are we done yet?" Wrecker complained like a big child. "I'm hungry!"

"Almost. Just one more thing," You said, as you typed something into the keyboard. The hours spent with Wrecker wasn't completely used to listening to him, you had also managed to figure out how to use the workstation. "When you kneel, which knee do you usually go down on?"

"Erm..." Wrecker jumped off the table he was sitting on and knelt down a couple of times, just to be sure. "The left one. Why?"

You gave him a big smile. "Then, how about we place the blade on the side of your right calf? With the handle facing up towards your hand, of course. There, it shouldn't be getting in the way of your fighting, while you'd still have easy access to it. What do you think?"

"Oh, YEA, that sounds great! Who knew you were gonna be pretty and smart!?" He scooped you up in a big celebratory hug.

"You think I'm pretty?" you teased, once he loosened the hug enough for you to breathe again.

"Well, you know, I mean..." He bashfully rubbed the back of his head, suddenly appearing very shy. It was adorable. He then looked up at you again, with a glint in his eyes. "How about we get some food? I'm starving!"

You looked back at your dad with pleading eyes. He nodded in approval, and you smiled back at the friendly giant who were more than ready to show you the way to the cantine.

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @djarrex

Taglist: @rain-on-kamino @zoeykallus @thebadbatchscyare

[cassandraclare]

The Letter Game (in full)

Many have asked to read last week’s letter game in a slightly simpler format. So here it is, for everyone’s enjoyment in plain text, under the cut. The action takes place between Chain of Gold and Chain of Iron. Read on . . .

1: INVITATION

To all and sundry—

The leaves are changing, and with them the season. It grows colder in London by the day, and even without the pestilence that recently ravaged us, even without demons breathing down our necks, cold with chill—now is the time for all good Shadowhunters to come to one another’s aid, and support one another in that most hallowed Nephilim tradition: song and dance.

So, a Musicale! The Townsends are pleased to invite the Enclave, in toto, to our West End home this Friday’s eve. Refreshments will of course be served, but the entertainment will be provided by you, our esteemed guests and friends. We would be so honored if you would help us welcome the coming of winter by bringing your most excellent capers and ballads, to keep us warm.

Grahame and Millie Townsend

2: Lucie » Cordelia

Cordelia, my sister, the very twin of my own heart,

Can you believe the Townsends’ invitation? How pretentious can one be, I ask you! It took all four Herondales an hour of discussion to conclude that “Friday’s eve” meant simply Friday evening rather than the eve before Friday (that is, Thursday). And is the demons or our necks that are meant to be cold with chill? “Cold with chill!” As a writer of words—no, even only as a reader of words—I am offended.

I digress, however. I write to ask whether you will be attending, as that will be significant to my own decision of whether to go. I asked James, and he was unenthused but “supposed” that “we must.” So I wish to let you know that if you don’t fancy attending, I believe James could be easily convinced. But, as unpleasant a night as it promises, I fear he may be correct that “we must.” You and he, after all, must do the social rounds as a betrothed pair, and I—well, I can hardly sit alone in my bedroom all night while all my friends witness Catherine Townsend’s cold-blooded murder of “O mio babbino caro.” 

So whatever your preference, I will be amenable. We can put on our frills and watch the most foolish of our set warble and prance, and at least we will have each other’s company and champagne. Or, if you’d prefer, tea and draughts in the Institute parlour. I am yours to command, my warrior-sister.

(I have realized only at this moment that perhaps you not only wish to attend but to perform yourself; if that is the case, I retract all previous mentions of warbling in favor of my unconditional enthusiastic support. I will even accompany you, if you wish, but I am not very good at the spinnet so please, something fairly slow would be best.)

Yours ever across the still waters of time and space,

L. Herondale

3: Ariadne » Anna

Dear Miss Lightwood,

I expect that you will have received the same invitation to the Townsends’ Musicale that the rest of the Enclave has. I write with the question of whether it’s your intention to attend, and to say that I hope that you will, and that I hope to see you there.

It’s not your sort of party, of course—dull, bourgeois, and stuffy, I imagine you’d say—but since as the daughter of the Inquisitor I am rarely able to appear at the more lively gatherings that you prefer, I do plan to attend myself, much as I would rather be elsewhere. (At one of those lively gatherings, perhaps?) Catherine will have my head if I am not there to keep her mother out of her hair, for one thing, and for another…well, I wish to see you.

I have it on fairly good authority that your brother and his roisterous band, or whatever they call themselves, are planning to be there. So I also write to implore you to come so that a cooler head will be present and any explosions, or implosions, or indeed bedlam of any kind, will be, if not prevented, at least more easily contained and cleaned up after.

For the event I am thinking of a dress I have, in a deep ruby color, with a rather striking neckline. I am no great judge of my own appearance, but I do know your taste and I daresay you will find it flatters me. For your part, I hope you will wear those pinstriped trousers you have. You have not worn them in an age, and I miss them, or rather, I miss how elegantly you wear them.

In short, I hope to see you there.

I know it is not your habit to keep letters from admirers, but rather to use them to kindle your fireplace. Perhaps that will be the destiny of this note as well, but I believe not. I come to you not as an admirer, after all, but as a friend, and one who wishes you all the best things in the world—

Yrs.,

Ariadne Bridgestock

4: Anna » Matthew

Mr. Fairchild—

Matthew, I have instructed the courier bringing you this note to evaluate your sobriety and, if it is found wanting, to slap you across the face twice. Straighten up and pay attention, you debauched fool. It’s still breakfast-time. And this is important.

Are you going to the Townsends’ musicale? 

Let me rephrase: if you know what’s good for you, you will be going to the Townsends’ musicale.

I hope to enjoy your company there, of course, as my friend and companion. But also, to be frank, I will need the support. My night was free and so I told them I would be there, but I wasn’t thinking, and now I’ve received a note from one A.B., letting me know in no uncertain terms that she will definitely be attending as well. It will be a large gathering, no doubt, and most of our time will be spent watching Thoby Baybrook chase after the juggling-balls he keeps dropping during his performance, rather than close-quarters socializing. But—and I trust in your confidence on this matter—I find I flutter with nerves. Imagine. I never flutter!

I hope I can count on you. I am not usually in the business of begging favors. However, this is an unusual situation. Matthew: she will be wearing the burgundy dress.

Anna

5: Ariadne » Matthew

To Matthew Fairchild—

All right, I’ve sent the letter. Against my better judgment, I should add. It seems more likely to drive her away than to attract her, to be honest, but you have her confidence in ways that I no longer do. If you think she is more likely to be there as a result, I will trust in your plan.

However.

I am fully aware that under most circumstances neither she nor you would be found as such a dreary party as an Enclave-wide musicale. (Nor would I, but as the daughter of the, et cetera et cetera, I hardly need to tell you.) So let this note serve as, not a threat, but a promise: if you even think about ditching the party for one of your Downworlder orgies, or whatever your usual scene, and you leave me and her to awkward politesse over stale canapes without showing up yourself…I will follow you to the ends of the Earth and your life will be forfeit. Forfeit, Fairchild. I daresay I can best you in a duel three times out of four, but also be assured I am very good with a dagger in the dark.

I look forward to enjoying this merry entry in the social season with you. I will see you there.

Yours sincerely,

Ariadne Bridgestock

6: Matthew » Cordelia

C,

No, that won’t do at all. There are already other C’s. Christopher, for instance. Also Caiaphas, a werewolf from whom I sometimes purchase wine. (He has an excellent nose, you see.)

Cordelia Carstairs, you need not worry about the Townsends’ party. First, none of Our Lot are planning to perform at all, but merely hang back and watch the festivities while imbibing and filling seats. You certainly shouldn’t worry that you’ll be asked to dance as you did at the Ruelle. This will not be the Ruelle. It will be far more insipid.

I’m sure J is focused entirely on your responsibilities as an engaged couple to make the rounds and be seen by the whey-faced provincials of the Enclave. He is correct, as always, the bastard, but he worries too much. Rest assured that we Thieves will be concocting a plan in which we are able to (1) have a good time at the most boring gathering of the season and (2) not miss cake. (I don’t know if you have had cake at the Townsends’. They are a tedious family, but their cook is some kind of confection-obsessed elf who performs great conjurings with spun sugar and buttercream.) (Yes, he really is an elf, I think. Or Catherine was having me on. His ears are fairly pointed, in any event.)

I do not particularly anticipate this musicale with great pleasure, but I do, of course, anticipate the opportunity to spend time in your presence with great relish. Truly, my parabatai could not have picked a more suitable bride with whom to be mutually bored to tears at parties for years to come. I suggest that for this one you bring a flask to tuck into your reticule. If you don’t, worry not; I will bring two. At least two.

I remain, as always, yours sincerely, etc etc,

Matthew Fairchild

7: James » Thieves

CONFIDENTIAL—DO NOT DISTRIBUTE—ON PAIN OF TORTURE—THIS MEANS YOU

Merriest of Thieves,

After extensive discussion, we’ve reached consensus (or as close as we will come) on our plan for Having Fun At the Townsends’ Musicale Even Though It Is a Musicale Hosted By the Townsends. (A variety of alternate names were proposed, but all have been vetoed by the plan’s organizer, that is, myself. Please do not continue to send proposed names, Matthew.)

Our esteemed colleague Christopher has, it seems, been working in his spare time on a new method of rapidly sending written messages without the use of couriers. Instead, messages are sent with a combination of runes (so bring your steles) and a propellant of Christopher’s own invention. I’m told that the technique is not yet flawless, but Mr Lightwood reports that it is ready to be shown and tested, and what better place than a party at which missing the main entertainment would be not disappointing, but rather a great relief.

Down a corridor from the Townsends’ main parlour is a small games room. I say games room, but in truth it is empty of games, and nobody ever uses it. It is windowless and a bit close, but mostly empty of furnishings and a suitable location for a scientific demonstration. Even better, the corridor itself departs the parlour with a dog-leg, and once one has passed around the corner, one is invisible to the notice of the other partygoers. (See attached floor plan of the first storey of the house; thanks to TL for his freehand drafting skills.)

This plan assumes that none of you are planning to perform in the musicale itself; if this is not the case, then MF wishes me to remind you both of your loyalties and to the overall philistine-like qualities of most of the guests.

Surely this will provide sufficient entertainment to get us all through the evening.

The party is only one days away, so if there are any questions about this plan, please hiss them to me sotto voce tomorrow night while Millie Townsend is performing her murder ballads.

Courage, half a league, half a league onward, and so on,

James H

PS: For those whose main draw to this party is Morgaint’s famous Victoria sponge, Christopher assures me that we should be done well in time for dessert. (I should add a warning that it should not be referred to as a Victoria sponge within earshot of Morgaint, as he will lecture you at length about the recipe’s preceding Victoria by centuries, the history of confection in pre-Roman Britain, and so on. He is very temperamental, even for a faerie.)

8: Thomas » Alastair

Dear Mr Carstairs—

We have not spoken in many weeks, presumably as a result of the unfortunate circumstances under which we last met. Nevertheless, I write this evening to extend my wishes for your family’s continued health and good fortune.

As I’m sure you know, this Friday marks an Enclave-wide social event at the home of the Mr and Mrs Townsend. I know that your sister will be in attendance, with her fiancé. The Lightwoods—Eugenia, Anna, Christopher, and myself—are also planning to be there. And, of course, we expect the family of our esteemed Consul, including both of her sons, to make an appearance.

Shall we expect to see you there? I ask merely because if so, I will not be attending. I understand that as your family will be there you have every right to attend, so I am happy to be the one who bows out of the evening.

Yours sincerely,

Mr T. Lightwood

9: Alastair » Thomas

Mr Lightwood

Tom

Look, you,

I am amazed and impressed by the effrontery of you writing to me to ask whether I will be attending an event only to them tell me that if I attend, you will not. No doubt you are feeling aggrieved about the last time we met. Well, so am I.  Jests and pranks from our schoolboy years are hardly a good enough reason for the kind of public humiliation I suffered, both from Matthew Fairchild’s rude outburst and your own. The very thought of attending a party with the likes of you sends me into a mixture of, on the one hand, paroxysms of helpless laughter, and on the other, a thumping headache of barely contained fury that I

[letter discarded, not sent]

Mr Lightwood,

Thank you for your kind letter.  I am, of course, aware of the upcoming affair at the home of the Townsends, through the usual means of receiving my own request to attend. It would seem to me obvious that I had no need of being informed about the party as though I would otherwise be ignorant of it. Unlike some of the London Shadowhunter families, the Townsends have only ever been courteous to the Carstairs family, and the implication that I wouldn’t have received exactly the same invitation that you did is exactly the kind of nonsense that

[letter discarded, not sent]

Thomas,

I won’t be attending the Townsends’ musicale, as I am already committed to a preferable previous engagement cleaning out the pigeon cages in the Regent’s Park Zoo.

Thank you for thinking of me.

Receipt of your letter is hereby acknowledged.

I don’t know why you would write to me at all, but please do not write back to try to explain.

[letter discarded, not sent]

Thomas,

I do want to apologize, I have tried to apologize, but every time I come near you a wall of your friends prevents me from doing so. You can hardly hold it against me that I have not apologized when you will not allow me to do so. Yes, I know what I did rises far above the level of a jest or a prank. But one must be allowed to make amends somehow, for otherwise what is there? Hopelessness? Not I suppose that you care much what I feel. Just because you are beloved of your friends, and ridiculously tolerably handsome, you think —

[Letter discarded, not sent]

10: Cordelia » James

J—

Do you need rescuing? Everyone is in the games room for Christopher’s demonstration, even Thomas, who has spent most of the evening hiding from my brother. You on the other hand have been waylaid in the corner with Mrs Whatshername. I tried to get close enough to intervene but was swept away myself by Mr Townsend, who wanted to tell me about his travels in the Levant when he was a younger man. Could not tell if he was confused about my family’s origins or he simply assumed anyone would be fascinated by his tales of camels and pyramids. Anyway, M suggests he could interrupt and scold you for ignoring your betrothed. Lucie says you are ignoring your betrothed, but don’t listen to her, I know you are far too polite to interrupt a member of the older set. (If you yourself remember, please remind me of her name when you come.) 

Come as soon as you can. Do not allow Mrs Whatshername to follow you.

Daisy

11: Christopher » Thieves

To: James, Lucie, Matthew, Thomas, Cordelia, Anna, Ariadne

From: Christopher

In an ideal world, I would have been able to send you this note through this very technique I am demonstrating tonight, but it does make a fairly loud bang, and I thought that would likely give the game away. Though I wish to not allow social proprieties to impede the progress of science, I have been reminded by several of you that discretion can be the better part of valor. Although I admit I can’t think of any personal examples where that would be the case.

In the games room I have piled a supply of protective spectacles, which I suggest you wear. There is no danger of damage to your eyes, but there may be some very bright flashes. In addition, the propellant which I will be using to send the message is an experimental mixture, similar to those I have tried in the past but not exactly the same. There is a very very small chance that inhalation of its fumes may cause some temporary effects to the mind, so I recommend that you hold a handkerchief over your nose and mouth during the demonstration. To be clear, I don’t think that any of these effects would have any negative impact on our ability to return to the party and attend the musical performances afterwards. At worst, it may make those performances seem more enjoyable than they would otherwise.

12: James » Townsends

Dear Mr and Mrs Townsend,

On behalf of myself, my family, my fiancée, and my fellows, I wished to extend sincerest apologies for departing your lovely gathering without saying proper goodbyes. Your musicale was, as all would have expected, a smashing success, with performances across the board demonstrating the falsehood of the common claim that the Nephilim are unable to produce works of art. Surely your daughter Catherine’s rendition of Puccini’s famous aria could stand alongside the finest professionals to be found in the Royal Albert Hall.

As you discovered along with the rest of the guests, Christopher Lightwood wished to use the opportunity of having us all present to demonstrate the state of his newest invention. I’m told that when it is completed, it will utterly revolutionize the way that Shadowhunters are able to communicate with one another, obviating the need for the runners, couriers, and use of the mundane Royal Mail to send messages to one another. Instead we will have a fully self-contained rune-based method. Surely anyone would agree that such a development would be well worth whatever growing pains the process of invention and experimentation might create.

As you also discovered, Mr Lightwood’s demonstration took an unexpected turn, with a good amount of his customized propellant being released into your games room and corridors. Luckily, it was a mild evening, and open windows as well as the vigorous fanning of the doors by Thomas Lightwood and Ariadne Bridgestock quickly dispersed the gasses.

That said, neither I nor my companions are able to account for an interval of roughly ninety minutes between the end of the demonstration and our departure from your house. To that end, it seems that we were sadly lacking in good manners by failing to thank you for your warm hospitality at the time. Again, please accept our deepest apologies, and our thanks for that hospitality, even if it has been delivered discourteously late. 

Warmest regards,

James Herondale

13: Matthew » James

Jamie,

Good Lord, what was in that stuff of Christopher’s? Do you know if there will be any lasting effects? I hesitate to ask Kit, he seems too dismayed.

Also, I am trying to find out to whom exactly I owe an apology for specific behaviors that might have happened after the demonstration. I seem to have lost more than an hour from my memory, as well as my waistcoat and a garnet ring of which I was quite fond. Any thoughts you have would be appreciated.

Matthew

14: Lucie » James

James,

I have been expecting to hear from Matthew, but as it has been most of a day and I haven’t yet, can you please let him know that I will make myself available to be apologized to during teatime, either tomorrow or the next day. Please also tell him that I will be sending along a bill for the costs of cleaning arrack out of the skirt of my dress. For such a prodigious consumer of spirits, you would think he would have learned not to slosh them around so much when he talks. I suppose Christopher’s propellant takes some of the blame, but honestly, Shadowhunters are trained in agility and dexterity and even under the influence of one of Christopher’s experiments he should be able to, at very least, not slosh so.

Lucie

15: Cordelia » Anna

Dear Anna,

The last hour or so of the party was something of a blur for all of us, I think. But I feel confident in assuring you that both you and Ariadne acted with all due propriety, and that at no point did you “make an ass of yourself,” as you put it, either out among all the guests or in the games room. 

Also, when next you speak to Ariadne, please compliment her on her lovely dress. It suited her quite well! I wondered if you were responsible for finding it for her? You do have such an excellent eye for what colors and cuts will flatter. 

Anyway, do not worry. I have made some private inquiries, and nobody took note of any unusual behavior on the part of either yourself or Miss Bridgestock. (In fact, Rosamund seemed to be under the impression that you were shamelessly flirting with her. I can confirm that you were not and that Rosamund simply has an odd way about her.)

Are we still on for tea Wednesday? Let me know if not and otherwise I will see you then.

Cordelia Carstairs

16:  Townsends » Everybody

For the attention of: 

James Herondale

Lucie Herondale

Matthew Fairchild

Thomas Lightwood

Anna Lightwood 

Christopher Lightwood

Alastair Carstairs

Cordelia Carstairs

On behalf of not just our own family, but the parental generation of the Enclave more generally, we wish to communicate our displeasure with your behavior at our soirée on Friday’s eve. You are all adults or near-enough, under Nephilim Law, and so you should be held to account as any adults would be. And you should be ashamed of yourselves.

Given the influence had by many of your families, and the small size of the London Enclave, we cannot bar you from all of our future events. If only we could. We will, however, be more careful in future about shutting off access to rooms in our house that are not intended for use by party guests.

Rather than taking the time to craft individual complaints, we hereby itemize the most obvious of our grievances, so that you may all have your behavior exposed to one another. Certainly none of you deserve to have your actions kept private.

Alastair: We were glad to see you eventually arrive, though there is a wide difference between “fashionably late” and the hour you appeared. (Just in time for the desserts, we note.) Also, the song you performed was highly inappropriate for the ladies present, especially the unmarried ones, such as our daughter, and also your own sister.

Lucie: While we have always supported your hobby of writing down entertaining tales, and we understand that the storyteller’s art does involve artistic creativity, your ongoing, strident, melodramatic narration of the events following the Christopher Lightwood Incident was not appreciated by us or, especially, Mrs Rosewain, who you referred to throughout as “Mrs Whatshername.” 

James: Your interruption of the cake serving to declare your undying devotion to your true love was a gallant gesture. It might, however, have gone over better had you not pledged your troth to a portrait in oils of our ancestral matriarch, Frideswide Townsend. Your taste is admirable, of course, and she was considered a great beauty. It is unfortunate for your affections that she passed away in the late sixteenth century.

Anna: We would thank you to come by and pick up your brother from our house at some point. He has been muttering to himself, fiddling with a pencil and paper, and threatening “another test, much improved.” Please retrieve him post-haste.

 Thomas: We don’t know how you made the acquaintance of that vampire who attempted to accompany all of the performers on his dulcimer, but he is not welcome back to our house, and if we see him again, neither are you.

Matthew: Whatever was in that bottle you were plying to my mother, we only found her this morning, napping on our roof. When we woke her she said it was of a greenish color and asked for more of it. We would be obliged if you could bring another bottle by, at your convenience.

Cordelia: Your demonstration of the supernatural sharpness of your sword was very impressive, even if it was not in the spirit of the kinds of performance we expected for a musicale. It is, however, not all that surprising that it was able to cut through our drapes, a dining-room chair, or the sponge cake. We spoke to your brother, and he suggested that we should feel free to send an invoice for replacement costs to the Herondale family, since soon enough you will be their trouble, and not his.

In short, you have all behaved abominably, and are, each and every one of you, embarrassments to your various hallowed family names. 

We hope you will join us the Thursday after next, for boating and luncheon in Hyde Park.

Mr and Mrs Graham Townsend

[colossal-red]

Tubbee in Tubbox Side Story:

Finding Tubbo

Pt.1 (ur here). Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5

Shorter story today-

Tw: fear, mentioned fatal vore (none happen). WC: 1100-ish

Ranboo awoke to the sound of a baby, more specifically Micheal. He reached for his memory book that he had as he realized that he was not in Paris anymore and was in a unrecognizable park. After flipping through the book, he became even more panicked at the situation that past Ranboo had put him in, at least past him had given a decent description of the humans that Tubbo had been taken by.

He also had an iPad that had a video pulled up of people that looked like the description past him had given, all he had to do was figure out where they lived. But first he had to feed Micheal. Now normally for Ranboo’s species they roosted in the ground, but a life of borrowing told Ranboo that the ground certainly wasn’t that safe, and that he shouldn’t feed the more humanish borrower worms.

So now Ranboo had to find some milk, which is far easier said than done. He went ahead and left Micheal in the nest, hoping that’d he be fine on his own for a bit. He did luckily find a abandoned baby bottle and was able to get a few drops into a thimble for Micheal. He returned to find a cat trying to climb up the tree that Micheal was in. “Mrrow.” The cat meowed to the tree. “Oh Fuck!” Ranboo was terrified beyond belief, how was he going to fight a cat!

He did have a needle on him, but he’d just have to pray that the cat couldn’t reach the top. He flew into the nest and attempted to console the crying Micheal, and fed him some of the milk that they had. Eventually Micheal fell asleep and Ranboo was left with trying to figure out how to get rid of the cat. He ended up throwing an acorn and lured it away. He audibly sighed in relief, and then looked over the video of the family again in the hopes of finding where they lived.

He did notice one thing about their backyard was that their were Red Roses in the back. Which meant that he’d have to find one of those houses. With Micheal asleep, he flew up above the many houses of London and found that quite a lot of the houses had Red Roses, but it was a start…

Whilst flying he observed a few of the human restaurants in hopes of finding some food for himself, and tried to pretend to not see the tables of the ones that served borrowers. He was able to get some spaghetti noodles from an Italian place thankfully, but not much else. When he got back to his make-shift nest, he thought and thought about how on earth he was going to find Tubbo. The best idea he could come with would be to find other borrowers who might know where the Minecraft’s live. It took him a while, but he did eventually spot a borrower, he went to go ask them. “Hey! You there! Do you know where I could find the human family called, Um, the Minecraft’s?”

He thought for a moment, giving Ranboo an opportunity to get a look at him. He was purple with teal swirls all around. “I don’t think so, but I know who might!” He exclaimed, “Follow me.” He flew away in a direction. “Wait! I can’t really follow, I have a child. Can you just tell me the way?” He caught up with the borrower, “Um, I’m not sure that’s such a go-“ “It’ll be fine, which way should I go?” The borrower, who revealed his name to be Karl, pointed off in a general direction, and told him to keep a lookout for a symbol that looked like fire in casino slots.

Ranboo headed back to his makeshift nest, and consoled Micheal for being away. He stared at Michael’s pink hair, Tubbo had always enjoyed the vibrant color, even though it made Ranboo nervous. A few tree’s away, he saw a bee hive, that was a fairly obvious punch in the gut from whatever god there is. (Author’s note: heheh) Ranboo sighed and started getting ready to head to the location Karl had told him about. He carefully gathered the few possessions that he had, including Tubbo’s ‘Blue Premium Bond’. He’s not exactly sure what the significance of it is, but Tubbo likes the blue fluff. As the sun began to set on this rather stressful day, Ranboo was left with the thoughts of the safety of both Tubbo and Micheal. These thoughts tormented him until he fell asleep…

The next day…

Ranboo did regrettably sleep in a bit, he perused his memory book. Eventually he gathered his stuff together, and got Micheal ready to leave. Underneath the tree he vaguely acknowledged the humans having a picnic at LunchTime, they had a jar but he wasn’t paying attention to them much so whatever right?

He left in the direction that Karl told him to go in, and kept on going. He flew over a middle school and eventually found an alleyway with the symbols that Karl described. “Alright Micheal, now we just need to find the guys.” Ranboo takes Micheal and searches down the alley, eventually finding a door ajar with some voices coming from it. “Well, here we go…”

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