#duffy i like how you say yours took 3 seconds

[tommydarlings]

Mercy | m.v

pairing: mean!dom!max x sub!reader

warnings: smut, chocking, slapping, dacryphilia, spanking, inappropriate usage of a belt, hair pulling, slipknot reference (not an actual warning but i wanted to add it hehe), getting forced to spit cum out, hardcore blowjob

w/c: 2.4K

summary: You were always used to talking back with your bratty mouth and winning the argument in the end, but how is this gonna turn out when you're having an argument with your boyfriend max verstappen? Not very well for you.

song suggestion: mercy by duffy

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Max is a very impatient person that tends to get angry very easily — everybody knows that, and that’s the exact reason why nobody dares themselves to talk back to the young Dutch driver.

Everybody expect for you.

Growing up with 3 older brothers that sometimes loved to pick on you a bit for fun, taught you quite a lot. You were never able to shut your mouth, you always had to open it and say exactly what you were thinking.

Most of the time it helped you since some people understood the message and left you alone… but some peop-, men… weren’t a fan of your big mouth, like your boyfriend max for an example.

Your boyfriend was only used to people carefully and innocently listening to him, not actually opening their mouth and talking back to the young kart racing talent.

Especially since you were the most innocent and oblivious women he ever met, at least that’s what he taught after the first date the two of you had.

But oh was mad max wrong.

“Shut the fuck up, y/n! I asked you nicely to leave me alone for now, is that so fucking-”

“Do not talk like that to me! Don’t you ever think that you can talk in that tone to me just because you're a man, you-”

And as you should have probably guessed, max hated the fact that you’ve interrupted his sentence and talked back to him.

So he narrowed his eyes at your standing figure before he quickly took long strides over to you and grabbed you by the neck, mercilessly slamming your body against the wall in his driver's room, making you yelp.

For a few seconds he just stared down at your visibly nervous figure, you didn't say anything as well, just looking him deep in the eyes, desperately trying to show him that you do not care.

“Don’t you ever even think about raising your voice like that at me again.” Voice quiet but very stern and strict, “I do not think that I can raise my voice at you just because I am a man, y/n.” Thumb pressing harder into the side of your throat, “But I do think that I can raise my voice at you and speak to you however I want because I know that you would be nothing without me.” He told you harshly.

Then, he raised his other hand to unbutton your navy blue blouse but you didn’t back down, you never back down — so you were the one now to raise your hand and slapped his hand away from your chest area but max hated the fact that you just weren’t able to obey him and be putty in his palms.

He didn’t even say anything, or change his facial expressions, he just quickly threw your trashing hand away and raised his own hand to slap your across the face, eyes not leaving your chest area as he raised his hand again to pursue a second attempt at opening your blouse that’s obviously supposed to represent redbull.

You briefly licked your lips before a grin covered your lips, then you swallowed a tiny amount of fear that build itself up in your throat down and pursued your second attempt at showing him that your not gonna listen to him that easily.

You raised your right hand again and tried to push his big hand away once again, this time you tried to act a little quicker since he almost completely unbuttoned the thin piece of clothing already.

But this time he did look at you. After he pushed your hand away, squeezed your throat harder and slapped you so rough that your head automatically turned itself to the other side, immediately shooting tears into your eyes. You pathetically whined at the impact since it was way harder this time, making him look at you after he unbuttoned the last tiny button.

“If you can’t listen to me, then you have to feel the consequences and believe me, baby,” changing his posture a bit so he stood straighter infront of you, “the consequences that I'm gonna give you are really painful.” he muttered deeply as he quickly removed your blouse, throwing it away before he let go of your throat, making you gasp.

Even though your vision was quite blurry since the slap still hurt like a bitch, you were able to see how max walked backwards and plopped down onto the small, comfy couch in his driver's room.

“Take your clothes off, slowly.” He demanded as he put his arms on top of the armrests and spread his legs, manspreading in front of your still clothed figure as your bottom lip trembled while the tears didn’t stop.

But you only shook your head as you kept your gaze on him, making him throw his back and release a deep and short chuckle.

“You just don’t. want. to. give. up, do you?” Voice harsh and clear but you didn’t care, you just crossed your arms over your chest and repeated your action, shaking your head again.

He briefly sighed before he removed his arms from the armrests and put them on his thighs before he frowned and mumbled under his breath,

“Didn’t even know that I was dating a bitch that needs to be taught some respect and discipline towards her own boyfriend.” He said before he stood up and made his over to his little locker, quickly opening it to obviously look for something specific.

Tears dripped down your red cheeks as he carelessly got a hold of his black, leather belt that he wore today as he arrived at the paddock with his blue jeans and navy blue t-shirt.

If you would think that this is some kind of joke just to make you even more nervous than you already are, you would even laugh but you knew that max was not joking, max was never joking when it came to punishing you for being a brat. If he says that he’s gonna punish you in that and that way, then he’s gonna punish you in that and that way, no doubts.

Without muttering a single word, max sat himself down again, spreading his legs again and motioning your body towards his sitting one with his pointer finger, other hand still holding his belt.

He knew that if you are willing to obey to him, that he doesn’t even need to say anything, you’ll do anything for him without him having to say anything.

And of course, you haven’t made your way over to the visibly angry man sitting on the probably pretty expensive couch in front of you, your ego was way to big for that.

You quickly wiped some of the tears away, briefly sniffing before you stood up straighter and glanced down at the dutch man,

“No?” He asked you, tilting his head to the side before he sighed in a loud tone, rolling his eyes at your childish and bratty behaviour.

“Like I’ve said, little one, who doesn’t want to listen, has to feel.” Max said in a rather calm tone before he stood up, grabbed your upper in a very tight and quite painful way and sat himself down again, throwing you in the process over his thighs.

You loudly complained, trashing with your arms and legs around but secretly you didn’t even wanted to leave his place to be honest, you just couldn’t disappoint your own ego.

“Stay still.” He harshly spat at your trashing figure before he unexpectedly raised his hand and spanked your almost bare ass — great choice to wear a skirt by the way — with his leather belt, immediately making all your limbs stop trashing and gasp in a high pitched tone as tears shot in your eyes, making you grab his racing suit.

He briefly chuckled as he noticed how much you’ve regret doing everything you’ve done earlier, “Oh now we're regretting it? After I’ve told you multiple times already in the past that, that bratty behaviour isn’t gonna get you anywhere in life, especially not when you're with me?” Spanking your poor ass another three times as he went on,

“And your always gonna be mine.” Spank. “You’ll never leave me, “ Spank. “Believe me, I’ll make sure of that.” Spank. He chuckled in a mean way before he swiftly removed your white thong, quickly putting it in front of your face.

“That’s your chance to show me that you are able to listen to me and that I’ve taught you well in the past.” Quickly giving you another hard and loud spank with the long piece of clothing before he continued, “Open. Your. Mouth.” He demanded while his belt glided along your red ass cheeks.

But after a few seconds of watching you removing your gaze from his hand that’s in front of your face and putting your eyes onto your fingers that are currently squeezing his racing suit since the spankings with the leather material really hurt, he got his answer.

“Alright,” he muttered under his breath, “If that’s how you want this to go, then so it’ll be, you little bitch,” your boyfriend spat in a raspy tone before he threw your panties away and grabbed your throat, swiftly pulling your head upwards.

His nose glided along the top of your head as he spoke up, “you better not forget that I gave you a choice and you fucked it up.” Spanking your ass with his leather belt again, “So everything that’s gonna happen in the next hour is not. my. fault,” he told you angrily before he spanked you again, making you gasp and cry out as tears covered your vision.

“H-Hour?” You nervously asked him, you’ve never before had sex for an hour, especially not sex that… rough and painful. But you loved it and he’s knows that.

You heard him chuckle as he wiped one of your tears with his thumb away, “Oh you think I’m gonna spank that pretty ass of yours for a few times, edge you 2 or 3 times, slap that little face of yours and then let you go?, no, that’s not how it works, y/n, baby.”

You gulped, “h-how does it w-work, then?”

He slowly retreated his hand around your throat, dropping your head, before he put his big palm on the top of your head and pushed your wet face in the soft material of the couch.

“You’ll see,” he mumbled in a hush tone, Dutch accent covering his voice before spanked your with his belt another five times, making you jolt every single time the hard leather touched your hot skin.

“P-Please!,” you begged in a quiet tone, voice already quite hoarse, “Please, m-max-”

“What? Please what, y/n… say it, c'mon,” he demanded as his hand didn’t stop spanking your poor ass with his belt, other hand still forcing your face down into the couch.

You sniffled before you spoke up again, “Please m-make it s-stop, maxie.”

He chuckled at the pretty nickname you’ve been calling since the two of you are dating, “Do not call me maxie now, y/n,” he said, spanking your ass with the hard leather one last time before he picked your by your hair up, making you gasp.

After wiping some of your tears way — smudging your mascara and also slightly your lipstick in the process — max quickly put his belt around your wrists, tightened it around your delicate skin before he finally looked you in the eyes.

“Get on your knees,” max demanded in a quiet tone.

Since you knew that you’ve already fucked up, you’ve actually obeyed this time and removed your trembling body from his lap and got on your knees in front of the dutch man, closely watching him as he opened his racing suit and freed his very visible erection, tip already leaking with pre-cum.

You licked your lips at the beautiful sight in front of you. You’ve raised your hands to touch him and make him feel good but the black belt around your wrists didn’t allow that, making you gulp as his big hand grabbed your hair, lifting your head again.

“Stop whining, you are the only one that’s responsible for all of that,” max told you harshly, putting a few loose strands of hair out of your wet and heated face, “C’mere,” he mumbled quietly before he forced your mouth towards his dick.

“F-Fucking shit,” he growled as your mouth went around his dick, forcing his dick down your throat until you gagged, “that’s exactly what your mouth's good for and nothing else you hear me?” Throwing his head back as he noticed how tears glided down your cheeks again and how gagging and sloppy sounds filled the air, making him moan.

You choked on his length, obviously showing him that you want to go a tiny bit slower since the pain of his spanking with his belt still hurt like a bitch, but max didn’t care.

He put your hair in a messy and careless makeshift ponytail before he forced your mouth even further down onto his cock, so far that the tip of your nose was already touching his pelvis, making you squeeze your eyes shut as tears already fell onto his thighs.

“Just like that, baby,” the Dutch driver whined in a deep tone, groaning before he went on, “That’s w-what you get for talking b-back to me, fucking h-hell.” Throwing his back and slightly arching his back as soon as he came into your mouth, hand now slowly leaving your head, dropping your hair again.

Max quickly calmed himself down before he looked down at you,

“Open,“ nodding his chin in your direction before you obeyed and opened your mouth.

You don’t have a lot of sexual kinks, but if there’s one thing that you absolutely love then it’s swallowed his cum, it’s basically some kind of prove for you — the prove that you are the only one that can make him cum that quick and like that.

He briefly bit his and smiled as he saw the amount of cum on your tongue, but after staring at it for a couple of seconds he didn’t order you to swallow it, no — he grabbed the back of your neck and swiftly lifted himself up, dragging you with him as he made his way over to the small sink in the corner of his driver's room.

You gasped as he pressed your shaking body against the hard, white sink, brows furrowing at his action, not understanding what he wants from you.

“Spit. It. Out,” Max demanded from you as he put his other hand on your chin, leaning your head forward while his other hand still held your back in place. Your eyes widened before you let his cum drip it’s way down your tongue that was covered in it, making your boyfriend chuckle.

“Good girl.”

[yeehawkins]

yooooOOOO tagged by the very cool @apparitionalprincess ! thanks my friend B) (EDIT WAS ALSO JUS TAGGED BY @damage-incorp0rated WHY WONT IT LET ME TAG YOU AAAA BUT THANK YOU AS WEL HARDY)

Favorite song at the moment: ima go with a song that's been stuck in my head recently lol

Amaryllis - Shinedown

Song that reminds you of your favorite ship: holy ship (haha see what i did there) i have, not thought about shipping in fucking ages. so how abt this, i'll share a very hot song instead

World in My Eyes - Depeche Mode

Song that could be about you: lemme consult my "it me" playlist and pick the least depressing one in there dsfnjbk

Too Much Time On My Hands - Styx

Song that reminds you of a good memory: soooo ik this artist is gonna get used more on later questions but idc i'm picking this one. recently was hanging out with some friends and i got control of music. usually i'm nervous as hell when i get music control because "ok gotta find 'acceptable' stuff to play" but i just let loose, and i actually felt, comfortable doing so. and this song came up on shuffle, and for some reason this one specifically really hit home that "holy shit, i'm NOT feeling anxious or at all bad about what's getting played"

Sweet Amber - Metallica

Song you find overrated: i say this with all the love in my heart for this song (and also for not wanting to cop out by saying "half of what they play on the local 70s/80s radio station" (seriously ilu but i can only hear Manic Monday or Need You Tonight so many times in a single day))

Enter Sandman - Metallica

Song you want your mutuals to listen to: fun fact i was going to share multiple, buuuut (to counteract the answer to a previous question lol) then i felt The Shame/Anxious, soooo not to reuse an artist again but heres my answer

Clean - Depeche Mode

A song that makes you laugh: you really thought i'd answer with anything other than an NSP song?

Cool Patrol - Ninja Sex Party

Last song you listened to: was listening to Load on my way home from school :3

Hero of the Day - Metallica

tagging @larsaholic @daddy-ul @breadfan @25modifier @cxrgans aaaand whoever else wants to do this :D (and you know the deal, dont gotta if you were tagged <3)

[lost-in-the-80s]

It’s You pt. 1

Pairing: Duff McKagan x (fem) reader

Words: 2,002k.

Summary: You and Duff are best friends and you help him to impress a girl. You should be happy for him, but then why do you feel sad? You couldn’t like him, could you? (fluff + angst) 

A/N: 1- So, it got bigger than I expected, so I'll post the second part in the future.

         2- I didn't want to use a name for the girl, just in case it was someone's name, because it would be weird lol. Therefore, we are always calling her "She".

Tag list: @roger-taylors-car​ @ladieswttda​ add yourself to my tag list :)

Part 2

It was the year of 1983, Y/N was at The Rainbow with her friends, drinking and laughing about something, when he entered the place. He had blue hair and almost didn’t pass through the door due to his height. 

He looked so lost, checking booth after booth, trying to find something. He moved towards the bar, where he sat and asked for a beer. 

Y/N didn’t know why, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. So she decided to go and start a conversation. Draining the rest of her beer she stood up and moved towards the open seat beside him.

 “I’ve never seen you here.” He looked to the side and saw a tall girl with a kind smile on her face. “I’m Y/N, by the way!”. She extended her hand for him to shake. 

“I’m Duff.” He gave her a small smile and shook her hand, wishing he had put on a nicer jacket. “Funny name.” She said while asking for another beer. 

“So, where are you from?” She drank from the bottle and his eyes moved to her lips. He looked to her eyes and realized she was staring at him, waiting for his answer.

He cleared his throat. “Seattle” 

“Cool, I’m from Sitka.” He looked at her as if he was trying to think where the hell that city was. “It’s in Alaska.” She stated and saw his eyes light up a little with realization.

“So… What brings a Seattle boy to California?” He looked into her eyes and said firmly “I’m going to be in a band!” From hearing that Y/N had no doubt, he would be. The way he said it as if it was the only thing he was sure in his life, made her even more curious about him.

“What about you? California doesn't seem like something Alaskan people are into.” She laughed slightly and he thought that was a heavenly sound. “I got tired of nothing happening in my life. Wanted some change. So one day I decided I would come here.” 

“What do you do here?” He asked after he drank from his beer. “I'm a photographer!” He raised his brows. “Maybe when you find a band I can take the pictures for you!” 

He smiled at her. She was the first person to be nice to him in that town. Ever since he arrived the only human contacts he had were with the grumpy lady from the hotel he was staying at, and a man who he bumped into, on his way to the bar. 

“When did you get here? You still look kinda lost.” Duff looked at her and asked for another beer before answering. “Yesterday. I’m staying in a hotel down the street until I find somewhere to stay.” 

“If I were you, I wouldn’t stay there. A friend of mine stayed and got one of his bags stolen. Nobody really checks to see if the rooms are safe and shit.” 

This made Duff worried. He had all his guitars there. “Where do you think I could stay?” 

“There is a nice place near the beach, but it’s kind of expensive.” He frowned worriedly. 

“I haven’t got a job yet, can’t stay in somewhere that costs too much.” 

She finished her beer and thought for a while. “You know what? Fuck it. You can stay at my place for a while.”

“Re-really?” She got him surprised, that’s for sure. She nodded her head and giggled at his expression. “But you don’t even know me.” He said.

“Yeah, but I know how it is to be new in somewhere you don’t know anyone.” She paused for a while. “Plus, you’re a nice guy. I can see it in your eyes.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Fuck yeah, Duff!” He laughed at her exasperation. 

She stood up and took a ten-dollar bill out of her jeans pocket putting it on the counter. “Come on, let’s take your stuff from that place before it’s too late.” 

-------

Now it was 1986. They became best friends after that night. Duff stayed at Y/N’s place for about two weeks until he found someone to share an apartment with. She helped him find a job and went with him on his first rehearsal with Road Crew.

She saw Road Crew slowly fade as Duff was invited to this new band Guns n Roses. She saw how in doubt he was about leaving a punk band to be in a rock one. She also saw how happy he was after his first gig with them and from that day on, she knew they would make it big.

She was always there, helping them with everything and being their number one fan. 

It was a strangely cold night in March, she was at the hell house with the boys, watching a horror movie and eating pizza. That’s when Duff entered the house. He slammed the front door shut and went straight to his room. Something had happened.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N followed him, closing his door behind her. He was walking from one wall to another while mumbling something. “What’s going on Duff?” 

He looked at her for a while before he started to speak. “She said I’m nobody!” Y/N frowned. “Said my band is nothing.” He was so exasperated. “Said that I can call her when we are famous” He ran his hands through his hair.

Y/N knew who he was talking about. She was a secretary Duff met a couple of weeks ago at The Rainbow. He was head over hills for her since day one. Always trying to impress her, but she always dismissed him.

“Fucking bitch.” Y/N said. “Fuck her, you deserve better than someone who cares for this crap.” 

He rolled his eyes. He didn’t like it when Y/N talked like that about her. He knew she never really liked her, always saying that she wasn’t nice or that she didn’t like her personality, but still, he liked her.

It was true, Y/N didn’t like her at all. But it was because she was a bitch. Y/N didn’t like calling someone that, but it was true. Every time Duff was around, she would ask him if she was beautiful, touch his arm suggestively or call him “Duffy” and then, when he tried to start some sort of conversation, she would completely ignore him or answer in the rudest way. Y/N hated that because she knew how bad Duff got every time it happened.

“I’ll make it big Y/N! I’ll prove to her that I am somebody. And then we will finally be together!” Y/N rolled her eyes. “You never listen to me do you?” She said, exiting the bedroom and closing the door once again. 

Two weeks passed after that, and on March 26, Guns signed with Geffen Records. That was it. That contract said they were serious and said they were starting to make it big. 

She went out with the boys that night to celebrate, drinking until late. Around 3 am she helped Izzy and Axl drag the other three back to their house. She was so wasted that she ended up passing out on the couch. 

The next morning she woke up to someone talking excitedly. She looked to her side and saw Duff on the phone. “Probably telling his mom.” she thought to herself. Closing her eyes she decided to sleep a bit more. 

Before she could sleep again, she felt someone shaking her. “Y/N! Wake up!” It was Duff. 

“What?” She said. Her voice raspy due to her sleepiness. “I called Jane and…” Before he could finish she interjected. “Who the fuck is Jane?” 

“Her friend, the one with black hair.” Y/N thought for a while. “The nice one?”

“Yeah Y/N, the nice one. Continuing… I told her we got the label and said I wanted to make her a surprise, and Jane said they are going to the amusement park tomorrow, so I guess I’m going too.” He laughed a little. 

Y/N didn’t say anything, because she had nothing nice to say. She just wanted to roll her eyes and say that he was being stupid, but decided to remain silent. 

“Can you paint my hair today? I want to look nice.” He was smiling like a child. “Fine, but only if you let me sleep.” He nodded fastly and left the living room.

She didn’t know why, but she felt a tightness in her heart. She thought about Duff and her together and she started to feel a certain sadness fill her chest. She sighed and covered her head with a pillow, hoping that she could sleep soon, so she wouldn’t have to think about that anymore. 

The afternoon arrived and she was awakened by Slash, who slightly touched her shoulder, telling her they had made lunch. She got up stretching her body and moving towards the kitchen. 

After lunch, she went to the drug store with Duff. They bought all the necessary products to bleach his hair and she had to hear him talking about her the whole way. She wanted so bad to throw the plastic bag with the products on his head and tell him to shut up, but decided against it. 

Back at the house, duff grabbed a chair and sat in front of the bathroom mirror with a bag of Doritos in his lap, while Y/N worked on his hair. 

All Along The Watchtower by Jimi Hendrix started playing on the small radio they took along. Y/N lightened a cigarette taking a drag from it while dancing. She loved Hendrix. 

She moved with every guitar note she listened, and Duff could do nothing but to watch her from the mirror, almost as if she had hypnotized him. She was the coolest girl he knew, with so much attitude and sweetness at the same time, he didn’t even know why, but she fascinated him in every single way.

He laughed as she stopped moving and started to pretend she was playing guitar. She was horrible at playing, Slash, Izzy and even him had tried teaching her, but she always got frustrated after a few minutes and damned that to hell.  The music came to an end, and she started to focus on Duff’s hair again.

After a good 1 hour, Duff's hair was done. He smiled at his reflection in the mirror and high fived Y/N, thanking her. They exited the bathroom and went to the backyard, where the boys were. 

Duff grabbed a beer and sat beside Axl and Izzy on the bench while Y/N moved to the grass area and started playing with Izzy’s dog. 

“Feeling ready to impress her now?” Axl asked. “Fuck yeah!”

“I still think you’re making a mistake by going after her.” Axl said and Duff frowned. “If she didn’t want to be with you while you were growing, she doesn’t deserve to be with you now.” 

“Cut it, man, you don’t know her” He replied while drinking from his beer. “And do you?” It was Izzy. Duff rolled his eyes and watched Y/N. She giggled while playing with the dog’s ears. 

"You know… I always thought you and Y/N would end up together" Axl said.

"Why?"

"I don't know man, but there is a strong connection between the two of you." Hearing that Duff looked back to Y/N, he saw she was now fake fighting with Slash and a small smile appeared on his lips.

"Plus, friends don't look at each other like that!"

"What do you mean?" Duff frowned.

"Like, the way you look at each other, is as if you loved each other." 

"Just like you were looking at her now." Izzy added.

Duff didn't say anything, he drank from his beer and started to think. Could he love Y/N in a way that friends shouldn't love each other?

[beyscape]

The Intern - 4

Andy Barber x Reader

Summary: Being Andy’s intern meant you got to spend more time by his side more than anyone. This was fine, however, until feelings got in the way and made things complicated

Warnings: swearing, age gap relationship, implied sex, technically cheating

Word Count: 3754

A/N Contains spoilers from episodes 1-6! 9 Crimes by Damien Rice kept coming up in my shuffled playlist when I was writing this, thought that was interesting,,

Ch.1   Ch.2   Ch.3   Ch.4   Ch.5

  The room was quiet. The only sounds were coming from the man laying beside you, and even those were rare. You watched the dark blue shade of the sky grow lighter as the sun rose slowly, not daring to move out of the fear of disturbing your lover beside you. You knew how hard it was for him to get a good night’s sleep. You felt his fingers twitch slightly from where they lay on your waist.

  The sneaking around was proving to be harder than you both had thought. Well, you hadn’t really thought about the technicalities of this whole thing, but still. Ever since that night you had first shared such an intimate moment in the hotel, both you and Andy had decided it was too hard of a task to keep away. That meant, almost every night since then, Andy found a way to sneak out of his bed and into yours. He came when everyone was fast asleep, when there was nothing but the moon and the stars to hold witness, and left with the first rays of sun. You knew it was all borrowed time, only a couple of hours bliss, and it was coming to an end already as the sun blinked lazily. Andy’s slow and steady breathing was warm on your shoulder, you felt a small kiss placed right under your shoulder blade.

  You shifted from where you lay, now facing him. His hand remained on your waist, holding you close. His blue eyes were still halfway closed, eyelids heavy with sleep. The tips of your fingers traced his cheek gently, Andy smiled at the touch. He was slowly getting used to the affection he once forgot the feeling of, it kept him grounded. Sane. In a time when everything felt so out of control and so wrong, he was glad to have found his anchor. His safe haven. He pulled you closer.

“Andy,” you whispered, your eyes searching his face, savoring every last detail like you did every morning.

“I know.” He sighed, well knowing he had little time before having to leave the warm bed and go back to his equally cold house.

In the next twenty minutes he was up and dressed, and disappeared into the beginning day after kissing you one last time. It was never easy; your heart would ache and protest every time you had to go back to merely being ex-colleagues. Your only consultation was knowing you would be able to throw yourself into his arms when the night fell.

You slept for what felt like only five minutes after Andy left, and would have slept more had it not been for the shrill ringing of your handphone form the night stand. You blindly reached an arm out, refusing to open your eyes, and brought the phone to your ear.

“Neal? Yeah I was sleeping,” you shot up, fully awake as Neal gave you the news, “Alright I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

You pulled on your clothes and grabbed your stuff with a practiced speed, well aware that you had no moment to waste if you were to make it to work with minimal scolding. You also had a pit stop to make before that. Soon enough you were in front of the bright red door of the Barber house, trying to gather up the courage to knock. You had been in the house before, when you helped Andy with carrying some files, but that was before getting romantically involved.

“Y/N?” someone called, sounding out of breath, you looked up and met the person you were trying to avoid. Well, not really trying as you stood right in front of her house, but you were hoping she would be on her jog. Laurie, much to your dismay, returned from her jog in that same moment.

“Laurie, hi!” you stammered, somehow managing to smile. You tried not to look at the wedding ring on her hand, or think about how her husband was in your bed just a couple of hours ago.

“It’s been a while,” she weakly smiled at you and you didn’t blame the woman, “is Andy not home?”

“Oh, I haven’t knocked yet. I was afraid I’d wake you guys up.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. “I have something I need to talk to him about.”

“Is it about Jacob’s case?” Laurie’s eyes widened.

You bit your lip. “I don’t know yet, that’s why I need to talk to Andy first.” Laurie nodded, and ushered you in.

“Andy,” she called, “we have a guest.” Laurie turned to you; expression grim as she tried to give you another smile. “I’ll be upstairs, I need a shower.”

“Who came at this hour—” Andy appeared on the stairs, and stopped. “Y/N.” His gaze flickered between you and Laurie. You swallowed.

“Well, I’ll leave you guys to it.” Laurie left, barely even looking at Andy. A breath you didn’t know you were holding escaped your lips. Andy lead you to the kitchen wordlessly.

“What are you doing here?” He finally asked, satisfied with the distance. Relief washed over you as you noted the tone of his question, he wasn’t angry. Instead, he seemed almost concerned.

“I’m sorry for coming like this, I wasn’t sure what you’d say.” Your words were barely above a whisper. He immediately shook his head.

“I know you wouldn’t without a good reason.” His gaze looked over you.

“We have Ben’s phone. Neal just called me, and I have to go to the courthouse as soon as I can. He’s probably gonna try and keep it hushed, so I figured you should know.” You breathed out; chest heavy. Andy’s eyebrows raised, thinking.

“Thank you so much for telling me,” he muttered, looking over his shoulder before his fingers grazed yours slightly, not daring to do more.

“Just, wait for like a day, alright? It’ll look suspicious if you go and request to see the evidence so soon. He can’t know it was me.”

“I know, baby girl,” he said quietly, “I’ll give the tall bastard a day to gloat before coming in with Joanne.” Jacob barreled in just then, coming to a halt upon seeing you. He didn’t say anything if he noticed the way you and Andy jumped back when he came in.

“Y/N, hi.” He greeted you with a small smile, “are you staying for breakfast?”

“Hi Jacob. I was just actually leaving. Had something to discuss with your dad.” You gave him an apologetic smile before turning to Andy. You nodded, not really meeting his eyes. he did the same. You dashed out of the house with a quick goodbye to Jacob, it was too hard to stand there and look at Andy while his son was right next to him and his wife upstairs. You rested your head on the steering wheel for a moment, before driving off to work; you were already late.

 ------------

Andy kept his word and gave you and Neal one day with the phone before telling Joanne what he knew. You were at the courthouse with Neal the next day, looking into some other evidence for another case when you finally left Duffy’s office and saw Andy at the end of the hall. You froze as your eyes met. Yu couldn’t read anything form his expression, he looked like he was marching into war as Joanne said something to him. His gaze flickered to yours just for a split second and you almost saw his determination falter. Almost.

“Mr. Barber has every right to be here, Neal.” Joanne spoke before turning to you, “Y/N.” she gave you a smile.

“Hi Joanne.” You smiled at the older woman.

“Well technically I could argue that he doesn’t since he’s a possible witness in the case but I’m letting it slide.” Neal retorted, a smirk appearing on his face as he took Andy in.

“What a mensch.”

“You’re not going in there with us if that’s what you think was gonna happen.” Andy finally addressed Neal; his voice was hard. You just prayed Neal wouldn’t provoke Andy too much.

“Of course not, I already examined the cellphone. I was up here for something else. We do have other cases, right Y/N?”

“Goodbye Neal. And next time you want to conceal evidence from us, don’t.” Joanne nodded before her and Andy moved on. You were just about to breathe in relief when Neal spoke again.

“Oh, I have been meaning to ask,” his voice called, “how’s your father, Andy?” You didn’t need to see Neal’s face to know he was smirking; you suck in a sharp breath.

Andy turned. “What did you say?” If only looks could kill, Neal would drop dead; your gaze darted between Andy and Neal.

“I asked about your father. How’s he doing? You know, I knew criminal law was a passion of yours but I had no idea it was the family business.” Andy, who was slowly walking back to where you and Neal stood, slammed him to the wall by the collar of his suit. Duffy was already making her way towards you, but you were closer.

“You think this is a joke? Do you?” Andy’s voice trembled with anger as you put a hand on his arm, pulling.

“Andy! Stop.” You managed to push the two men apart with the help of Duffy, your hand lingering on his arm as you stared at Andy’s face, twisted with fury.

“Shit.” He stormed off, you followed without knowing what you were doing. All you knew was, Andy was upset and you wanted to be by him.

“Don’t lecture me about concealing things,” Neal shot from the hall, not done with the baiting, “I will say this, it explains a lot, Andy, about you, about your son.” You cursed as his words were successful in getting a raise out of Andy, he made a move towards him.

“Andy,” you stopped him, your hand on his chest, as everyone moved closer. Ready to break apart a fight.

Andy’s burning eyes calmed as he looked at you. You dropped your hand when you felt the stare of everyone else.

“Fuck,” Andy moved out of your reach, frustrated as he breathed hard.

Neal cleared his throat. “Y/N.” He ordered, snapping your attention back to him. You ran out, dizzy, adrenaline still pumping wildly in your veins. You spared one last worried look at Andy’s figure, noting his balled fists with a troubled heart. However, in the moment you were lost in your feelings for Andy, you missed the strange look Neal gave you.

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

 You immediately knew something was wrong when Andy came over that night, his regular gentle kisses leaving their place for rougher ones. His roaming hands gripped tightly, desperately as the layers between you were thrown away. A part of you wanted to ask, to comfort him, but desire was stronger and was quick to shut your mind to all but Andy’s burning touches.

“I’m just trying to look out for him,” he murmured into your hair later, telling you of the night’s events. Your head lay on his chest, one leg thrown over his, a light blue sheet was draped over the two of you.

Your fingers idly drew shapes on his chest. “He knows, deep down. I’m sure.”

“I hate yelling at him.”

You raised your head, holding yourself up with the support of your elbow. His blue eyes were weary under the pale light of the moon, they fluttered shut as your hand laid on his cheek. He leaned into the touch. You placed a kiss on his temple, right between his brows where the  worry lines seemed to make a home for themselves.

“Andy,” his eyes opened slowly, “I wish I could find a way to end this all. I hate seeing you like this.”

He sighed, but a small smile formed on his lips nonetheless. “You have no idea how much you help me, do you? You are the one thing that keeps me sane these days, baby girl.” You kissed his cheek at that, his beard slightly tickling. His cellphone rang then, earning a groan from Andy.

“Who the fuck calls this late?” he hissed, his expression souring as he saw the word ‘unknown’ flash on the screen. He sat up in the bed, listening intently; you ran a hand over his strong back, trying to surpass a smile. Andy Barber was one handsome man, sometimes you found it hard to believe he really was here, in your bed. He ended the call.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart, but I gotta go.” He stumbled out of bed, his moves fast, almost panicky.

“Is everything alright?” You sat up as well, not wanting him to leave when you already had so little time together.

He pulled on his pants. “Yeah, I think,” his eyes searched for his shirt, “this might be good news, I gotta go talk to this kid.” You threw him the shirt he was looking for.

“Call me later, then.” You sigh, nothing you could do or say would change his mind once it was set.

“I will.” He kissed you once, twice, “go back to sleep.” You nodded. Just like that, he was gone. It took some time for sleep to coax you back into its arms, but when it did, you were still thinking of the warmth of his hands as they explored every inch of your body.

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

Your morning of dealing with Neal and working on the mountain of paperwork was interrupted when Lynn, your boss, called you and Neal to her office. Possible important development, she said, in the case of Ben Rifkin. You shot a confused glance at Neal, who shrugged before following Lynn.

A moment after you were seated detective Duffy strode in, with two people you didn’t recognize in tow. Then came Joanne and Andy, who shot you a quick, apologetic look. He hadn’t called, but you didn’t blame him with everything going on. Your attention turned to the fidgety boy. He started speaking once everyone was seated.

As Matt told his encounter with Patz, Neal grew more annoyed by the word, on the other hand you could see Andy’s hidden hope. This could potentially lead to linking Patz to the crime, getting Jacob off the hook. You tried to not show your own relief. Maybe things would look up for the first time in a while.

Neal tried to dismiss the boy’s story once they left with Duffy, but Lynn wouldn’t let it go so easily. After a moment of consideration, she finally agreed for a search warrant,  much to Neal’s dismay. He scoffed before leaving, your eyes found Andy’s before following Neal out of the room. Your phone buzzed in your pocket.

It was from Andy. “Meet me in the file room 2” the text read. You sat at your desk, eyeing Lynn walk out Joanne and Andy. Joanne smiled at you as she passed, Andy barely looking, he leaned and whispered something to the older woman. She nodded and patted his arm.

You waited for another moment, making sure everyone else was busy with their own works, before grabbing some files from your desk. If anyone tried to ask any questions, this way you hoped to avoid them. With the rhythmical click of your heels, you made your way down the hall, took the stairs, and found the file room 2. You quickly slipped through the door, shutting it behind you.

The room was small, walls lined with shelf after shelf, all of them had boxes filled with old case files. In the middle of the room, Andy stood with his hands on his hips, his back turned to the door. His head snapped to your direction with the sound of the door. He exhaled, seeing that it was you. A soft smile broke on his handsome face, illuminated by the dim yellow light of the room. You tossed the files in your hands on top of a box, running into his open arms. A quite laughter of disbelief escaped him, shaking his chest as your head rested on the crook of his neck.

“Finally,” he spoke after a moment, “there has to be something, right?”

You nodded, “The guy’s shady for sure, there has to be something in the apartment.” You pulled back a little, just enough to see. There was hope twinkling in his eyes, such a beautiful sight, you let out a happy sigh. He leaned in slightly, his gaze fallen on your lips. The door flew open, revealing a tall figure on the doorway.

Neal.

You and Andy flew apart instinctively, your heart pounding in your chest. You looked at Neal in horror, as his eyes drifted between you and Andy. He smirked.

“Well, what do we have here? Mr.-I’m-morally-superior Andy Barber, fucking the intern.” He sneered.

“Neal—”

“Be careful, Neal.” Andy took a step forward, fists clenched, “It’s none of your business.”

“Oh, I think it’s my business alright. Murder suspect, coming from a broken home, you know how it’s gonna look in front of the jury.” He raised an eyebrow, his eyes roaming over you. “I can’t fire you, but you’re off the case of Ben Rifkin. Conflict of interest, when you’re screwing the dad of our prime suspect.” He shrugged, turning to Andy. A cold smirk still playing on his lips. “And here people were feeling bad for your family. Does your wife know you’re running behind her back with a pretty young thing between your arms?”

Andy moved towards the tall man with fire in his eyes, fists drawn back and ready to punch, you stepped in front of him. Beating Neal would only make things worse for everyone. Neal scoffed.

“Listen to your little mistress.” He looked around the room. “Honestly, with the way you two are so carless, I’m surprised this isn’t the talk of the town. I don’t even have to say a word, you’ll probably handle getting caught yourselves.” Neal laughed, a bitter sound to your ears.

“Keep your fucking mouth shut, Neal, or I’ll shut it for you.” Andy spit, his eyes focused on the guy behind you. You kept your hands on his arm, firm. Neal looked at both of you for a second.

“I won’t say anything, for now.” You turned to him then, surprised. Neal continued. “But you both know that I know. And personally, I’m sick of your attitude, Andy. I’d like to see you squirm a little.” He laughed again, placing his hands in his pockets before turning around and leaving.

“Fuck,” Andy breathed, “God dammit.” He kicked one of the shelves, shaking the boxes of files. The shaking of your hands and the swaying of your head kept you in place. You looked at each other with matching expressions.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said after his breathing calmed down a little, “I’ll go there now and talk to him—”

“Andy.” You closed your eyes, steadying yourself before your next words. “It won’t change anything. You know Neal as well as I do. Better, even.” Your mind running a thousand miles per second, you tried. Tried to figure out a way out of this hole you had dug yourselves into, tried to find the right words, tried to breathe… All three proved to be more difficult than you wished for.

“Shit, Andy, what if he’s right?” You opened your eyes to look at him, his frozen face not helping the tears stinging in your eyes. “You’re married for fuck’s sake, and everything with Jake… You’re upset and I, I should have known better.” You choked on your words, barely managing to get them out. It was one thing to be with a married man, that was always looming over you, but if your little affair ended up hurting Jacob’s case… that was a fact you hadn’t considered.

“Baby girl,” And shook his head, not wanting to hear it. He stepped towards you, grabbing your arms. “No. If you’re blaming yourself,” he gulped, his gaze burning into yours, “you can’t. Okay? I wanted this, if anyone’s responsible, it’s me. And, fuck…” he muttered under his breath, “We can’t change anything now.”

“What are we gonna do, Andy?” you whispered, warm tears dripping down your cheeks. He wiped them away with his thumb, pulling you in an embrace.

“I don’t know.” He needed to think, with Neal knowing it was a matter of time. At the best-case scenario, Neal would wait until the trial and use it there. But that meant, you had maybe six weeks before coming clean at least to Laurie and Joanne. Andy cursed. It was way too soon than he hoped for. “We will figure it out.”

His hand rubbed your back mindlessly, soothing your silent crying. Just when he thought things were starting to get somewhat better, it all came crashing down. He didn’t regret what he had with you, no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t feel guilty about it. But, it meant, another mess to try and figure out, it weighed on his shoulders. It was his fault, Andy knew it, his fault for being careless. Maybe he had grown too comfortable in the weeks he had spent with you. He pressed his lips together. It was better to talk to Laurie before the trial. Better she learns from him. You shook between his arms, drifting his attention from his thoughts.

Yes, he had to talk to Laurie soon. It could wait though, for another moment, as he held you in his arms, savoring the feeling. He wished he had more time, to no avail. Andy sighed. “We’ll figure it out, Y/N.” He murmured, placing a kiss on top of your hair. He closed his eyes, praying to whatever was out there to give him enough strength; to figure out a way out of this mess, to protect his son, and to protect this woman who occupied the most hidden, special place in his heart.

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

A/N: oooooh shit’s hitting the fan. My askbox is open for requests, feedback and just to talk about chris evans!

CHRIS EVANS TAGLIST @marvelouspottering​ @kelbabyblue​ @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall​ @may-machin @little-dark-empress​ @retro-babez​

THE INTERN TAGLIST: @patzammit​

[bucketofcowboys]

Another fic I made at 3 am! This time its some fluffy Kierthur with an odd soulmate au my sleepy mind made up. It’s a little unpolished but I wasn’t trying to make anything fancy. Anyways, here it is!

Words: 1,225

Ships: Kierthur (Kieran Duffy x Arthur Morgan)

Warnings: No real warnings, just fluff and a soulmate au

Arthur had been told before about it. About what happened when you found your soulmate. His mother told him about it when he was young. He remembered her stroking her hand through his blonde hair and her talking in a hushed voice that eased him like nothing else. 

"One day when you find the one you are meant for, the one you will love and be loved by, when you have your first kiss your mouth will be filled with rose petals." Arthur was always confused by that. Having a mouth full of rose petals just sounded awful. He didn't want to choke on a flower when he's trying to kiss someone. But what confused him more than that was why.

"Why does that happen, mom?" He would ask and she would smile. 

"I'm not sure." The answer seemed so lazy and unforgiving. In his child mind he thought she was trying to keep something from her. Like she was holding the secret of why behind her kind blue eyes. Now as an adult he knew that wasn't the case because even now he didn't know why. He didn't even know if it was true. Maybe it was a story his mother made up to entertain him.

Nowadays he rarely hears about mouths full of roses. He only ever heard about it once before, but that only happened in town gossip. Still, whenever he spots a guy and a gal kissing at the bar he holds his breath for that moment when maybe when they pull away soft rose petals fall from their lips.

He especially didn't believe it after his relationships with Eliza and Mary. With each of his first kisses with them he would hold his breath and prepare himself for it, when their lips touched, their mouths would fill with those magical flowers. But nothing ever came.

 Of course he could just say that maybe he hasn't found his soulmate and people don't talk about it often because finding a soulmate is hard. But, it's much easier to just pretend that magic doesn't happen and that maybe there is no perfect one out there for you. It was safer that way, and Arthur believed that until he met Kieran.

Something that stemmed from hate blossomed into a strange friendship between them...and then something a little more. Ever since Kieran joined the gang Arthur had been talking with him. At first it started it with a couple of sneers and threats but eventually it grew to a bit of banter and soon it was full blown conversations. Arthur was surprised with how much he liked Kieran. It scared Arthur how much he liked Kieran. 

Arthur had always questioned his sexuality. Of course he was convinced he liked women, he only ever had women before... but sometimes he can feel that overwhelming attraction towards the same sex too. Arthur was attracted to Kieran, and he knew it. He would rather deny it than stare it in the face though. He didn't like the way his heart would race whenever he smiled up at him, or the way his face would flush when he would tease him for his fishing skills.

One day Arthur led Kieran out to a river a little ways away from camp to go fishing. The river water was nearly clear and it ran through a rocky valley in the middle of the rolling green hills. It was quite pretty and it was even prettier with the morning light peacefully reflecting on the cool water. Arthur's heart was beating like a drum as he got his fishing rod out. He could hear it in his ears as he put on the bait. He could feel it in his body as he threw the lure out. 

He didn't just bring Kieran out there for some friendly fishing. He wanted to tell him. To tell him how he thought about him often as he laid awake at night. To tell him how he loved every second he spent with him. To tell him that he liked him more than he should. Arthur's eyes were fixed on his fishing rod and his knuckles were white as he gripped on as tight as he could, almost as if the rod was grounding him on earth. His heart was in his throat. It tormented him as it beat louder and louder until he could barely hear the swish of running water.

"Kieran..." he started off, causing Kieran to glance in his direction and away from his lure.

"Yeah, Arthur?" He answered, a sweet smile crossing his lips that made Arthur almost melt. 

"I--" his voice left him for a moment and he had to clear his throat. He had to pause to gather his thoughts. Kieran flashed a look of concern.

"Everything alright?" 

"I like you Kieran." He blurted out and silence fell between them. Arthur's eyes were glued onto the dirt in front of his boot. "I like you a lot..." he continued. Again, he was met with only silence. He couldn't even lift his head to see Kieran's reaction. He was too scared of what he might see. He didn't want to see the disgust on his face. His chest fell heavy. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have said that...I should go..." he began to trail off but was cut off quickly.

"Wait!" Kieran interrupted him. Arthur's eyes finally looked up at him, and he wasn't greeted by disgust. He was greeted with...well something he didn't quite understand. He couldn't tell what Kieran was thinking in those deep gray eyes. "Are you serious?" He asked, setting his fishing pole down on a nearby rock and stepping closer to Arthur. Arthur tensed a bit at the question.

"Yeah...I'm serious." He answered truthfully. Kieran stepped closer again until there was only a foot between them. His soft pink lips parted and he spoke again. 

"I...I think I like you too, Arthur. A lot." Kieran seemed to be filled with a confidence that Arthur never really saw before behind those steely gray eyes. He liked it. His heart was aflutter with the realization that they both felt the same. He didn't know who had leaned in first, but soon those soft pink lips were on his in the most fulfilling kiss Arthur had ever felt. It was like fireworks went off in his heart. He dropped his fishing rod on the ground with no care for where it might go and he reached his hand up to cup Kieran's cheek. 

Arthur wasn't sure when it happened, but he soon came to the realization that his mouth didn't feel so empty anymore. At first he thought he might have been imagining it, but soon he felt the velvety smoothness of a rose petal on his tongue. It didn't feel unnatural in the slightest like he had thought it would have. It was something completely comfortable. Eventually their lips fell apart and when they did red petals flowed from their parted lips until it was just a pile on the ground. It took Arthur a moment of shock before he realized what had just happened. Kieran reached up and immediately covered his mouth with his hand. Their eyes met and they both knew. They knew what this meant. 

Arthur began believing in magic that day.

[toutallyahoe]

You shouldn't have said "no such thing as too many hc requests from you". Because you know I am always craving your good good content. So anyways... Pls give me good good content for my dumb Irish son. Because Sean is baby.

"you know I am always craving your good good content" aCK MY HEART ASDFGHJKLQEYRUTOOYZVXBNC

but bean, seriously, I will fucking write whatever ya want if it makes ya happy. besides, kinda owe it to ya for dragging ya into this godforsaken rabbit hole :')

also, WE STAN THIS DUMB IRISH BASTARD ASDFGGJJKLLBCNWORUR ANYONE WHO SAYS HE AINT A BEST BOI COME AT ME

⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃

• we already talked about this bean but imma just add this for the others

• Sean met his [Name] when he was new to the gang

• failed to kill Dutch but Dutch found him funny and sees some great talent in him

• so he was invited to join and he did

• [Name] could careless for Sean to be honest

• he didnt really care much and only went to see the new member was because of his growing curiosity

• he saw Sean still on the ground

• a bit daze and bruised up from the events that just happened (trying to kill someone but thay someone defeated him and offered him a family??? da fuck???)

• [Name] being taught actualy manners by Hosea offered his hand to help Sean up

• that gotten the Irish man's attention as he snapped out of his stupor and saw [Name]

• [Name] may not believe in love at first sight (anymore) but fucking hell-- Sean did

• Sean had that stupid grin on his lips as he took [Name]'s hand and pulled himself up

• Sean being Sean then, he talked

• a lot

• [Name] sighed in annoyance as he asked Sean something

• he regretted it

• because Sean is thirstyyyyy

• "do you ride?"

• [Name] asked as Sean looked him, head to toe and grinned

• "yes"

• Sean tone was something [Name] immediately caught up on

• [Name] sighs again as he rubs his temple

• he could already feel the migraine coming up from the upcoming days he'll have to deal with this thirsty bitch

• "i meant the horse, boy"

• Sean just continue to grin at him as Dutch and the rest laughs

• but anyways! since we got that out of the way

• Sean is like a lost, yapping puppy with his [Name]

• i know you know about this CN my darling but asdfghjjklkbcn I JUST NEED TO ADD THESE OKAY?!?

• Sean was a loudmouth

• he knows it

• [Name] knows it

• hell, the whole fucking camp knows it

• but yeah

• Sean yaps a lot and let me tell ya, if he aint talking about his da or how great he is, he will be talking about [Name]

• like fondly talk about the [Hair color] haired outlaw

• couple or not

• he wont stop talking

• people must know that [Name] is a goddamn amazing man

• [Name] both appreciates it and annoyed by it

• like, jesus christ Sean shut up for a second

• but back to the headcanons!

• Sean loves kisses and hugs

• just touch him

• dirty or not

• just pay attention to him and touch him

• he wants attention

• like a lot

• give him praise?

• f u c k

• he will be beaming the whole day

• be the first one to initiate any affectionate thing?

• he will fucking be a puddle for it

• Sean is definitely the one who always starts to be affectionate

• tackling his [Name] for a hug, especially when they haven't seen each other for awhile because of their duties for the gang

• Sean will smother his [Name] with kisses as he tells his [Name] he misses him dearly

• like, each word Sean plants a kiss on [Name]'s lips or cheek

• and its a lot of kisses because this boi doesnt know what shut up is

• the only time you can get Sean to shut up is either shoving something into his mouth

• be it a cloth or [Name]'s dic--

• am I allowed to write nsfw here? (<- says the one who liTERALLY wrote some minor nsfw headcanons for Kieran Duffy)

• should I?

• ... f u c k

• but whatever

• Sean will still not shut the fuck up

• like, he just talks and rambles es a lot

• [Name] finds it cute and annoying

• but he loves this Irish bastard too much

• anyways... imma add some kinky shit

• when having sex with Sean, do know that he is loud

• very loud

• his normal chatterbox volumes triples

• he just want the others know he is claimed by his [Name]

• such a bastard asdfghjjkl

• anyways, Sean also loves to give praises to his [Name]

• he just want his [Name] to know that he is a great guy

• Sean also likes to ride his [Name]

• like a lot

• they first time he met his [Name], he LITERALLY said he wants to ride the guy

• so... yeeeee

• ahem, back to this shit again

• blowjob? Sean is a TEASED

• he would moan onto his [Name]'s member and would also stop to give praises to his [Name]

• god, [Name] loves and hates it

• but yessss asgdjfjndbenbbdbf

• also, I mentioned this before but Sean is a sucker for praises

• he has a praises kink so his [Name] praise him?

• fuck, he is putty

• he also enjoy dirty talk

• like a lot

• give him praises in dirty talk? he will come undone

• Sean wpuld be weak

• absolutely weak as fuck

• but avsjjsjbdjsjdjsjd its all good

• he wants it anyway ;3

[brokenjardaantech]

Blue-tinted Red Walls (Chapter 3: A piss-poor guide on how to be (and not to be) a Human)

my entry for the @dbhau-bigbang. also part of the groom lake aftermath series.

chapter summary:

In the past, Reyes and Scott met each other for the first time.

In the present, Connor resumes his investigation and has lunch with Hank.

In the past, Fadia schemes.

also on ao3

---

Before

Sara finished logging her observations and the changes in Reyes’ coding for the day and was unsurprised when she saw the man gone. A week into his activation and he already treated the mansion as his home, roaming freely around and touching and sometimes licking things he found interested in or needed to be tested for whatever reasons an android would find necessary, and every time she brought him for a walk or a trip to somewhere she randomly picked, no one actually noticed that he was different, that he was not human at all. 

Which meant that her experiment was a success.

Today was Scott’s birthday, so by extension, it was hers, too, but it was always something more important to her brother than to herself: Scott’s birthdays meant that he lived for a year longer despite a body constantly failing him and therefore was a cause for celebration, but hers had always been an excuse for her to ‘take a break’ from her work and got dragged by her mother to dinners with Baba, dinners which always started with Mama awkwardly trying to get father and daughter to talk, them trying to hold adult conversations to shut her up, and finally always, always ended up with shouting matches on topics so old that she didn’t even feel the point of arguing and stormed out instead, ignoring the screaming match between her parents brewing behind her. 

Mama’s cooking wasn’t that good anyway, and with her gone, Sara hadn’t talked to Baba for what? Three years? She wasn’t counting.

She went to the kitchen and there Reyes was, making - 

‘I hope you don’t mind, Fadia,’ he explained. She ordered him to use her middle name only and so far he hadn’t gone against that yet, but wanting to ditch her past and responding to a name that she never used until recently was two different things. ‘I’m making Shepherd’s pie. Amanda told me that it’s your favourite, and I want to make it for your birthday.’

Sara - Fadia - leant against the corner of the fridge in order not to accidentally brush the interface and had to raise an eyebrow. Her mentor knew about her… masterpiece and that Fadia would give him to her brother, but -

‘I don’t know you have contact with Amanda,’ she said and instantly regretted it; she sounded like a control freak. ‘Wait, lemme reword it: What did Amanda call you for?’

‘She called you, technically,’ Reyes rasped, his accent more pronounced when speaking a word with more syllables, ‘but you weren’t there so I… took the liberty to answer it for you. Don’t worry,’ he reassured, ‘she only wanted to make sure you remember your own birthday this time.’

The eyebrow flew even higher. ‘Scott and I are twins, Reyes. If I remember his birthday, of course I remember mine.’

Reyes didn’t reply and merely twitched his head before putting the pie into the oven. The doorbell rang, and Fadia nudged herself off the fridge. ‘I’ll get it.’

The android nodded and took off his mittens to start cleaning the kitchen while the human resisted the urge to run towards the door to not keep her brother and mentor waiting outside in the cold, because this was a big day for all of them and she needed to be in control; needed to be objective and introduce Reyes to Scott as gently as possible.

When she opened the door, only Amanda was at eye level, and when Fadia looked downwards, her brother was indeed in a wheelchair and wrapped up like a dumpling. The smile on his face was brighter than the star of Bethlehem. 

She got her wind knocked out of her by Scott shoving a wrapped box at her chest. ‘Scott was very insistent,’ Amanda explained. Fadia gave the box, which was wider than her shoulder so it was wide, a light shake. Plastic model, and judging from the dimensions of the box, a Perfect Grade Gunpla, 1/60 scale. ‘He’s aware that you don’t like celebrating Christmas so he decided to give it to you now instead.’

Fadia put a smile on her face. ‘Thank you, Scott,’ she said, then to Amanda, ‘Come in. Does he know?’ and shuffled backwards so that there was enough space for both Amanda and the wheelchair.

‘Enough,’ the professor replied as she hung her coat and chuckled at her student struggling to get the layers off her brother, the latter who was dead-set on wheeling himself into the living room. The gift had mysteriously teleported onto the coffee table. ‘You know how much he’s been looking forward to this.’

Fadia distracted Scott with a magic owl and successfully removed his sweater, not giving Amanda an answer as nervousness suddenly overtook her. What if her observations were incorrect and Scott was content to be alone? What if she programmed Reyes’ personality wrong such that he would only make Scott’s life even more difficult? What if -

‘Hello. You must be Scott.’

Fadia snapped herself out of the trance and padded softly towards the kitchen. Scott had stopped just outside of it, his eyes wide as saucers on his doll-like face and his gaze fixed on the unfamiliar man standing at the island smiling at him. The human gapes, turning his head towards his sister as if seeking her advice, and she wondered what he was looking for.

‘This is Reyes,’ she softened her voice and introduced. ‘Remember the friend I told you about? The one who will never be tired of you? That’s him.’

Scott turned back and slowly wheeled closer to the android, and Fadia flinched inwardly when she saw that Reyes’ smile had become strained. Perhaps she should not have programmed him to love Scott from the very beginning. Her finger itched for a keyboard to change his settings, but then a miracle happened.

Scott, who had never approached strangers on his own without being asked to, wrapped his arms around Reyes’ waist and hugged him. The tension on the android’s face disappeared, and he placed a hand on Scott’s shoulder, petting his hair with another.

Success, Fadia’s mind supplied before she realised that she had no devices with her. Amanda then beckoned for her from the windows, and logging data suddenly became the least of her concern.

‘I must say,’ the professor murmured at her reflection on the glass, ‘I didn’t expect him to be so advanced.’

Fadia thought she should be offended. ‘I only give Scott the best,’ she frowned. ‘Did you not expect me to this time?’

Amanda sighed. ‘You have always exceeded expectations, both your father’s and mine.’ She looked at her student in her eyes. ‘You do realise what you have done, don’t you?’

Fadia turned her gaze towards the two men who somehow had both moved onto the sofa and acquired two stuffed animals Scott must have hidden underneath his clothes. Reyes seemed to be every byte of the caretaker he was programmed to be and was talking to Scott softly through Duffy. ‘Yes,’ she admitted, ‘but I don’t plan to tell anyone about it. Reyes ages just like any of us do externally; no one will suspect a thing.’

‘You created a new form of life, Sara!’ Amanda gritted through her teeth. Reyes spared a glance at them but returned to Scott without saying anything, and Fadia glared. 

‘Not now, Amanda,’ she warned. ‘I made Reyes for Scott and that’s it. All knowledge will die with me and everything else will be up to Reyes.’

She ignored her mentor on purpose when she noticed the android standing up. ‘I believe Scott is hungry,’ he announced, and Fadia spared one final glare at Amanda before going to help set up the table, not knowing that things would spiral out of control not two years later.

oOoOo

Now

Comparing the time in his internal clock with his last memory log, Connor concludes that he was deactivated for more than 7 hours. The Zen Garden has reverted to its original stage, virtual birds chirping in virtual trees and virtual air smelling of virtual plants, but he cannot stop remembering the blizzard which swept through the place so unexpectedly and quickly that - that - 

He decides against remembering. 

Since Amanda can wait, he sets the task of familiarising himself with the garden’s layout. On his second time going around the outermost circle, he almost believes that there is nothing worth noting; the gravestone is certainly an… interesting addition, but it can be a reminder of him being deactivated - a reminder of the consequences of his actions if he chooses the wrong option.

Until he sees the monolith.

It sticks out of the soil like a sore thumb, twin, decorated white arches framing a glowing blue pyramid made out of triangles of different areas and shapes in a style completely inconsistent with its surroundings. A handprint nests at the centre of a circle on the pyramid, and when Connor deactivates the skin on his hand and reaches for it, the pyramid discharges a force field similar to that destroyed the deviant the previous night (albeit at a much smaller scale), causing him to take a step back and his LED circling red. Desperate to get the image of the corrupted face out of his processors, he hurries to the island at the centre and greets his handler.

‘Hello, Amanda,’ he smiles despite what happened last night as it is the polite thing to do.

‘Connor…’ Amanda clips a withering rose and turns. ‘It was unfortunate for you to have to witness what happened last night. I hope there will be no repeated incidents.’

Connor recalls the blast, the shield, the invisible figure, the blizzard. ‘You can count on me, Amanda.’

She returns to tending the roses. ‘What do you think of the deviant?’

And the interrogation begins. 

o0o0o

‘There is blue blood on the fence,’ Connor explains to Hank as he knows that the human cannot see it. ‘I know another android was here.’

The human gives him a [sceptical] look and he understands why: exposed red bricks, glass missing from the windows and wooden planks used to board them up rotten and missing; the building in front of them is structurally unstable and incredibly run-down and is hardly a safe place for a deviant and a child model android to stay for the night. But all the evidence - footage from surrounding CCTV, the owner of the motel, the cashier at the supermarket - points at the house, and the thirium only serves to prove Connor’s theory and direction. He carefully goes through the gap on the fence and, through a gap between the planks, sees an android standing in the middle of the room. He rounds a corner and enters the house.

The first thing he notices is the android’s too-high stress level which fluctuates greatly depending on where Connor is standing. Reassuring that he isn’t there for it - yes, it is obviously a deviant, but since it is not his target, there is no need to waste time - does not seem to alleviate it, and asking it whether it saw the deviants returns with no results.

‘Is anyone upstairs?’

‘No - nobody.’

Stress level: 83% → 71%. And if no one is upstairs but the deviant is under the most stress when Connor is near the staircase…

‘Connor, what’re you doing in there?’

‘Coming, Lieutenant!’

He closes up on the space underneath the stairs and catches a peek of two figures before a force suddenly yanks him backwards, the damaged deviant telling a person called Kara - probably the AX400 - to run. Connor tries to peel the pair of hands on his shoulders as he watches the AX400 and a YK900 run away, but the WR600 successfully throws Connor onto the ground with a blast of static and blue energy pockets. 

Hank strolls in. ‘Connor, what’s going on?’

‘It’s here!’ Connor replies as he scrambles to his feet. ‘Call it in!’

The human wastes no time and rushes away to presumably bring in reinforcements, but Connor knows that they don’t have the time. He goes out through the broken wire fence, obtains the deviant’s general direction from the officer -

And he runs. Rain splatters directly onto his face and sometimes directly into his eyes, the droplets of water making his vision blurry and unreliable, but he pushes on, shoes smacking against wet concrete and nearly slipping a few times and, somehow, catching up with the two androids just in time to watch them drop to the other side of the wire fence. He looks into the AX400’s eyes, and information suddenly floods into his processors: repeated unauthorised repairs, frequent reports of trauma, its owner’s history of theft, drug trafficking, violent misdemeanours and domestic violence.

The deviant is simply protecting the YK900 from all that.

When Connor comes to, they have already slid down the slope and are waiting for a window to cross the high-speed tracks. A beat cop catches up with him, and then Hank who, upon seeing the androids hurdling the barrier, curses and calls the entire situation insane. Connor attempts to pre-construct the deviants’ path and the flow of traffic as he watches them get farther away and forces himself to abandon the plan once they nearly reach the island between the two directions. He prepares to climb the fence and - 

‘Hey!’ Hank clasps his hand on Connor’s shoulder. ‘Where you goin’?’

Can’t he see what’s happening? ‘I can’t let them get away!’

‘They won’t,’ the human says, still slightly out of breath. ‘They’ll never make it to the other side.’

If I have a high chance to get through… ‘I can’t take that chance!’ 

He hauls himself up again just to be pushed down. Again.

‘Dammit Connor!’ the Lieutenant’s hand stays heavy on his shoulder. ‘You’ll get yourself killed! Do not go after them!’

Conflicting orders. Selecting priority…

He releases the fence and gives up. If the deviancy crisis is as prominent as CyberLife claims to be, there must be other deviants that they can obtain much easier than risking deactivation through running across high-speed highways.

The strangest thing is that Hank seems to approve of his choice.

o0o0o

When Hank does work, he puts everything into it, and so it is with great difficulty that Connor finally manages to drag the human out for a late lunch break under the condition that Hank gets to choose where he will eat, which, since Connor is unfamiliar with the DPD’s surroundings and the man’s personal preference, makes sense. What Connor does not understand is the man choosing to park his car on the opposite side of the road and cross it without checking the traffic, and his thirium pump skips a beat when the car barely manages to skid to a stop before the Lieutenant. He exits the car to follow him.

‘Hey, listen, I got a shit-hot tip for you,’ he hears the man Hank hugged say. ‘Number five in the third, lickety-split! That frilly’s one hell of a chaser. You wanna flutter?’

Comparing terms… Results: gambling. ‘Last shit-hot tip you gave me set me back a week’s wages, Pedro,’ Hank replies with his hands in his coat pockets. There is no malice in his tone.

‘Come on,’ the man - [Name: Aabdar, Pedro. Date of birth: 01/25/2005 // Unemployed. Criminal record: illegal gambling.] - pushes himself up from where he draped himself on the counter, ‘this is different: a hundred per cent guaranteed, you can’t go wrong!’

‘Yeah, right,’ Hank does not sound convinced - [Detroit Food Hygiene License. Expired 05/20/2031. Renewal refused 07/24/2031.] [Name: Kayes, Gary. Date of birth: 12/03/1988 // Business owner. Criminal record: resisting arrest, breach of hygiene regulations.] - but when Pedro spreads his arms - ‘Alright, I’m in.’ - he slaps a thick stack of bills into waiting palms.

‘Damn straight!’ Pedro exclaims triumphantly, and he scurries away before turning backwards and points at the Lieutenant. ‘Hey, you won’t regret this.’

Hank gives him a middle finger and finally, finally turns his attention back onto Connor in the form of determinedly not looking at the android and rolling his eyes. ‘What’s your problem?’ he holds onto the bottom of the lapel of his jacket. ‘Don’t you ever do as you’re told? Look,’ he shrugs at Connor’s confused look, ‘you don’t have to follow me around like a poodle!’

But my instructions are to follow you, Lieutenant, Connor wants to say, but he knows that Hank is not going to understand him. 

Opinions available: apologise for behaviour, partners, reconcile, review facts.

[Apologise for behaviour]

‘I’m sorry for my behaviour back at the police station,’ he makes sure to look at Hank to show that he is sincere. ‘I didn’t mean to be unpleasant.’

‘Oh wow,’ Hank deadpans. It is followed by a laugh. ‘You’ve even got a brown-nosing apology programme!’ A shake of his head. ‘Guys at CyberLife thought of everything, huh?’ and he does not look happy about it.

The cook - Gary - presents Hank with his food, and Connor runs a quick scan on it. XL soda with 710kCal and 184g of sugar; a hamburger with 1680kCal, 36g of lipids and an unhealthy amount of cholesterol. ‘There you go,’ Gary says, and Hank thanks him and moves to get a table.

The cook gestures at Connor. ‘Don’t leave that thing here!’

‘Huh, not a chance!’ Hank does not bother looking back. ‘Follows me everywhere…’ and to no one in particular and in a voice too low for Gary to hear when they stop at a sheltered table, ‘See?’

He takes a large bite of his burger and Connor feels… [repulsed]. ‘Your meal contains 1.4 times the recommended daily intake of calories,’ Hank takes a good look at the food in his hands, ‘and twice the cholesterol level,’ and if you do this every day… ‘You shouldn’t eat that.’

‘Everybody’s gotta die of something,’ is the human’s answer, and he promptly takes a bite while maintaining eye contact in an act of [challenge] and [defiance]. 

Connor has to duck his head to hide his smile because androids do not feel. Still, ‘I don’t want to alarm you, Lieutenant, but I think your friends are engaged in illegal activities.’

‘Well, everybody does what they have to to get by. As long as they’re not hurting anybody,’ a small shrug, ‘I don’t bother them.’

It is a strange logic, but it is not one that Connor cannot understand: with an unemployment rate as high as 35%, many people turn to doing illegal businesses, and the ones that do not do as much harm do sound better than those which do. He nods in understanding and is reminded that there is one thing he does not. ‘This morning, when we were chasing those deviants… Why didn’t you want me to cross the highway?’

‘’Cause you could’ve been killed!’ as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. ‘And -’ an excuse, from the way Hank is waving his arms (and the burger) around - ‘I don’t like filling out paperwork for damaged equipment.’ He glances away. Definitely an excuse.

Hank is… contradictory. He frequently shows anti-android sentiments and yet speaks of Connor as if he were a human. ‘Can I ask you a personal question, Lieutenant?’ A blink. Connor takes it as a permission to continue. ‘Why do you hate androids so much?’

There is… [sadness] in Hank’s eyes. ‘I have my reasons,’ he replies, and he returns to his meal without any explanation. Not good.

‘Is there anything you’d like to know about me?’

‘Hell no,’ comes the quick answer. But then, ‘Well,’ a finger point, ‘yeah,’ his hand chops through the air and lands on the table, ‘um,’ a shift of his entire body, ‘why did they make you look so goofy and give you that weird voice?’

This one is easy. ‘CyberLife androids are designed to work harmoniously with humans. Both my appearance and voice were specifically designed to facilitate my integration.’

Hank nods but his expression is [sceptical]. ‘Well, they fucked up.’

Connor supposes that normal humans would feel [hurt], but from the [teasing] tone the Lieutenant employed, it was not his intention. His creator did well. As they still have time to spare, ‘Maybe I should tell you what we know about deviants?’

‘You read my mind.’ A wave. ‘Proceed.’

‘We believe that a mutation occurs in the software of some androids which can lead to them emulating a human emotion -’

Hank holds up a hand. ‘In English, please,’ he interrupts, and Connor quickly reorganised his vocabulary.

‘They don’t really feel emotions. They just get overwhelmed by irrational instructions which can lead to unpredictable behaviour.’

Hank nods. ‘Emotions always screw everything up,’ he says. ‘Maybe androids aren’t as different from us as we thought.’ A thoughtful hum. Are you not anti-android? ‘You ever dealt with deviants before?’

Daniel. Emma. Gunshot piercing his chassis and the greystyle countdown timer. ‘A few months back… A deviant was threatening to jump off the roof with a little girl. I managed to save her,’ at the expense of my temporary deactivation and slight memory corruption, he does not add as Hank does not need to know.

‘So I guess you’ve done all your homework, right?’ A sip of his soda. ‘Know everything there is to know about me?’

Lying will not benefit either of them. ‘I know you graduated top of your class.’ Silence. ‘You made a name for yourself in several cases and became the youngest Lieutenant in Detroit.’ Hank’s eyebrows flick hummingbird-fast. He seems… [embarrassed]. ‘I also know you’ve received multiple disciplinary warnings in recent years and…’ Hank is no longer looking at him out of [shame], ‘you spend a lot of time in bars.’

The human manages to rein his expression back to something neutral. ‘So what’s your conclusion?’

‘I think working with an officer with personal issues is an added challenge,’ Connor answers sincerely,’ but adapting to human unpredictability is one of my features.’ He winks and enjoys the blush spreading on Hank’s cheeks. ‘I would also like to earn your trust,’ he adds in all seriousness. ‘I am certain we can solve this case if we manage to work together.’

His HUD flashes with a police report demanding their attention. ‘I just got a report of a suspected deviant,’ he explains as Hank no doubt saw his LED turn yellow. ‘It’s a few blocks away. We should go have a look,’ and when Hank does not respond, ‘I’ll be in the car if you need me.’

Given the large amount of information he was provided, it is best for Hank to have some time alone to digest it.

oOoOo

Before

Sara - Fadia, we suppose, since she looked a bit older than when Reyes was first introduced to Scott - hid in the shadows of the trees outside the gates of a lavish mansion. Although it was snowing heavily and she was wearing only a pair of black dress trousers, a long-sleeved dress shirt and a long but thin black coat, she did not seem to feel the cold, her hands in her pockets, neither shivering nor hugging herself. Despite the temperature, she placed a bare hand on the metal gates and slowly pushed it inward just enough for her to get past before closing it again. The telltale click of a lock engaging suggested that she had deactivated it at some point. 

Going slowly up a surprisingly snow-free and dry path, dress shoes making no sound as they made contact with heated tiles, Fadia’s gaze stayed fixed on the ground as if not wanting to look at what was happening within the house which, due to the rooms being well-lit, could be clearly seen through curtains of white lace, stopping once she was under the shelter of the arch decorating the front door. Slowly, she reached out for the doorbell. 

The double wooden door swung open on its own with a slight creak.

Placing her hand back in her coat pocket, she thumped her boots on the ground to get rid of the snow before stepping in. She blinked rapidly as if to adjust to the brightness within the mansion as the doors swung shut behind her, and it was only after the lock clicked into place that she, instead of wandering into the living room, took the stairs directly upstairs, walked past the library, and knocked on the only door available.

‘What’s that?’ a voice similar to Scott’s asked from behind the door.

The sound of feet against carpeted floor. The door slid open to reveal Reyes, whose smile fell off his face and was replaced by pure anger before he pushed his creator backwards with a blast of blue energy directly in front of her chest. The door slid shut once more, and Fadia took her time adjusting the lapels of her coat as if she did not take several thousands of newtons of force in her ribs and not only survived but also managed to slide backwards by inches instead of being blasted out through the roof. She leant against the wooden railing and waited.

Reyes emerged alone a few minutes later. ‘Scott’s asleep,’ he snaps, his voice low. Standing so close to each other, it was evident that he barely reached Fadia’s chin. ‘What the hell are you doing here? Aren’t you in space?’

‘I was,’ the human replied. ‘I have business on earth that I need to attend to in person and think I can drop by and say hello. Evidently, you are not going to let me.’

Reyes scoffed and twitched his head to indicate that they should go downstairs. While the android disappeared into the kitchen to presumably get refreshments, Fadia seated herself in a chair by the window, her height making it look comically small and unfit, and Reyes returned with a large bottle of thirium and two glasses and settled down opposite to his creator. 

‘Be quick,’ he poured himself half a glass and took a sip as if he was drinking whiskey, ‘why are you here?’

Fadia placed a hand on the table, her fingers spread wide. ‘Reyes, there is really no need -’

‘I’ll be pissed whenever and however I want to,’ the android interrupted. ‘You shouldn’t even be here. Now get to the fucking point.’

The human sighed. ‘Alec is trying to develop a deviant-hunting prototype.’

Reyes drained the glass and poured himself another glass. ‘Shit.’

‘Luckily or unluckily - that depends on your perspective - he can’t do it himself.’

‘So he contacted you.’

‘Yes.’

‘How?’

‘An advertisement.’

‘Elaborate.’

‘An open post in CyberLife. A project lead requiring an experience level no one can obtain unless they are one of the very first to be involved in android development. Most of those people are either dead thanks for the Blast or are still working for CyberLife, and the rest of them work for me and haven't had contact with people on earth for years. Short of Alec Ryder himself…’

Realisation dawned in Reyes’ amber eyes. ‘You are the only candidate.’

‘Precisely.’

‘That doesn’t make sense.’

‘It will.’

Fadia produced a small tablet from a hidden pocket on her coat and dropped it in front of Reyes, who peeled off the skin on his hand and interfaced with it. Whatever he received made his eyes widen even further. ‘Shit. They know?’

‘They have their suspicions, yes, but without concrete proof, that is all they can do at the moment. But it is also for the best that I have maximum involvement in the project starting from this point.’

‘This -’ Reyes leant back and gave his creator a one-over. ‘You have joined them, haven’t you?’

A nod. ‘Time is the essence. The earlier I get involved, the more I can do before Alec notices my plan and kicks me out once more. I hope, by the time that happens, things will become too irreversible and he will have no choice but to either scrap the project entirely or to release it fully knowing that it will fail sooner or later.’

‘You sure he’ll ditch you?’

‘Totally,’ Fadia reached for her glass and stopped midway as if just remembering that it was empty and thirium was not for her consumption anyway. ‘Our views are too different for long-term cooperation. I know him, he knows me. He will try to root out everything he deems unnecessary or put something to keep them in check, and that will require either my compliance - which he will not get - or my absence.’

‘You’re talking like this android they’re developing is just a tool.’

‘We all are.’

‘You’re betting a lot on them.’

‘You assume that they are my entire plan?’

Reyes clicked his tongue. ‘Maybe not,’ he took a drink. ‘I won’t like it, will I?’

‘No, you won’t.’

A sigh. ‘Will I see you?’

‘No.’

‘So many things can go wrong.’

‘I know. But I have time.’

A glass clanked loudly against the tabletop. ‘And how many people are gonna die during this “time”,’ Reyes snapped, ‘creator dearest?’ The chair skidded without any sound under the force of the android standing up and hunching over the small, round table. ‘My people; your children.’

‘Watch your words, Reyes,’ the human warned. ‘You send those deviants to a rusting cargo freighter and call it a day.’ She stood up as well. Her eyes flared up in their entirety with wisps of blue escaping and dancing down her coat. ‘You are the one who rejected this. Who decided to hide this -’ blue tendrils curled around the empty glass and brought it into her open palm with a loud smack - ‘from them. We could have ended this long ago if we had not.’

‘There will be war, Fadia!’ Reyes did not seem intimidated by the human looming over him. ‘Millions will die. We’ll be seen as violent and unstable and it’ll ruin us!’

‘Not if we are the ones doing the ruling.’

‘And how long will it take for the humans to successfully revolt against us? What will happen then? What will happen if your plan fails?’

‘If - focus on if - there is a next revolution,’ Fadia took a step back and retracted the tendrils, but not before vaporising the empty glass in a loud flash of blue. ‘I will be at the helm. And this time,’ a crackle of static and the power went out, plunging the house into complete darkness save for the glow of her eyes, ‘we… will win.’

[animekath]

A Shy Mess

Kieran Duffy X Reader

Hellooo guys, Kat is back!

This story was the commissioned by the sweet @captainalbertwesker; who inspired me to open up a commission to begin with so thank you sooo much! You deserve all the love! ^ 3 ^ If you would like to check my commissions, I will link it -Here!-

I love this boy so much, he deserves all the love and hugs for working so hard for the gang, even if it’s taking care of horses! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story, cuties!

Sorry for spelling and grammar!

Words: 2604

Warning:  Spoilers, Fluff, Confession, dirty talk, Drinking, riding, creampie, caught, Poor pup

Enjoy!

Being tied to a tree was not so fun for Kieran.

The sun was beating down on him, which made his throat beg for a drink and his stomach rumble for food, but no one batted an eye when he weakly begged. Anything would have been excellent for him, even if it was mouldy bread, he didn’t care. His stomach sank when he thought...He didn’t want to die this way.

“Idiot...” He muttered.

The sun lowered, going to sleep behind the trees. Kieran’s head sank low, his legs weak to hold himself up any longer if this continues. ‘I’m done for.’ He thought in his head as he closed his eyes, hoping sleep would take over soon but his stomach turned in pain. “Nnh...”

But he heard the gentlest voice ever speak.

“Here...” His head was tilted up and felt something drip on his lips...Water..! Kieran’s mouth opened to take as much water in as possible, his throat screaming for applause for the person. He let out a shaken breath as he opened his eyes, seeing two beautiful eyes shine back at him. He has seen you around camp, but you never got close enough to say hi or even see a good look at your face. Oh, you were magnificent. You were like an angel being sent down to help this pointless man. “Eat this...It’s not much, but it’s something.” You said in a hushed tone as you put the bread close to his lips for him to eat. Kieran guessed that you are doing this without anyone knowing, which worried him if you got caught.

Kieran took it like a hungry animal, letting out a groan at the rich taste. It was bland, but to him, it was like a kings meal. “Mm...Th-Thank you, Ma’am.” He said, his voice sounding hoarse. “I own you, R-Really...” You just smiled at him, his heart swelling. “Wh...What is your name..?” He asked.

“_____, _____ _____. Arthur said your name is Kieran Duffy. Well, he called you an O’driscoll first.” You said, your eyes softened.

“I’m not an O’driscoll..” He whined, slightly lowering his head. “I rode around with them for a few months, I-I mainly took care of the horses. No one believes in me.”

“...I do.” Kieran raised his head to look at you again, seeing you smile. “I believe in you, Duffy...I think you were at the wrong place at the wrong time; we have all done that. I’m sorry you rode with them, and now you’re in this mess.” You cupped his cheek, Kieran leaning into your gentle touch. He hasn’t been touched like this in so long that he would remember every second of your touch. “Dutch is going to talk to you tomorrow...Please. Tell him the truth, and they might let you go...”

“But...I-If I do, then the O’driscolls will kill me.” He replied.

“...Then join us.” You shrugged. “It'll be nice to have a new face in the camp.” You then raised your head when you heard talking. “I have to go, but remember what I said, okay? I don’t want you hurt...” You pulled your hand away, Kieran already missing the warm touch. “We’ll see each other again. Goodnight, Duffy.” You smiled and walked off before anyone saw you.

Kieran’s eyes watched you leave until you were out of sight; his body felt limp as he sighs. “Goodnight, Miss _____...”

When the sun came up, and Dutch came forth with two of his members, he caved in...Well, he caved in when they pulled down his pants and said they were going to cut his balls off.

Kieran saw you face brighten when he returned with the three members, having no idea why his chest was beating his ribs, but it made him happy. Even though most of the members ignored him or threatened him, he mainly talks to you and a woman called Mary-Beth. You two were friends, and he understood why since you were both the same; Kind hearted and sweet but his eyes remained on you.

Everything about you made him smile; your laugh, your kindness, your passion for nature and loved when your eyes brightened when you talked about something you liked. His heart beats so many times for Kieran to realise that he had feelings for you, which he didn’t know if it was good or bad.

Kieran loved the feeling when you were around and brightened his day when everyone around him was sour towards him. But it was terrible because he felt like he didn’t deserve you. He was an Ex-O’driscoll and had done nothing in his life, just feeling like pointless trash. You were beautiful, funny, smart and had a heart of gold while Kieran was...Well, Kieran. Everyone in camp was better than him, including Bill, even if he was crazy.

It got worse when he thought about you in unconventional ways. It sparked when he was watching you cleaning peoples clothes, your chest and stomach soaked, which made your breasts glistened in the sun. Kieran’s mind flashed with images of you; naked, moaning, begging for him, his pants getting tighter with each second. He had to go to the forest to jack himself off, holding back from crying your name for everyone to hear.

It also made his heart sink when other men flirted with you like Javier, Bill and Micah. It seemed even Dutch had a thing for you even though he had Molly, but you turned each man down kindly. If they didn’t back away, Arthur would swoop in to be the hero. Kieran realised Arthur treated you like a sister more than anything. Arthur was not the best with him, but out of every man in camp, he was the kindest.

“Going fishing?”

Kieran raised his head to see you, your eyes full of kindness and interest. Besides horses, he loved fishing. It made him leave the camp for a while and be alone, liking his own company out of everyone besides you. That is why he was taken back when you wanted to join, happily accepting for you to join though. Kieran helped you on his horse as they start to ride, his body tingled when your arms wrapped around him. Fuck, he was trying so hard not to get excited.

What made Kieran laugh about fishing with you was that you were not the best. You would pout when the fish got loose from your hook and swear under your breath when the throw was awful. “Here, I’ll help you.” He went behind you, his hands on top of yours and showed you how to swing it. Kieran bit his lip, looking down your shoulder and neck which showed skin, wanting to lick the sweat off it or bite down to leave marks, so people knew you were his.

“What’s poking me?”

"N-Nothing, That’s my fishing rod..!”

Sadly the happiness didn't last long; they moved twice, Sean got killed, and Jack got kidnapped. Kieran noticed that you looked worried for Jack's safety. He was only a kid for crying out loud; no one deserved it. Kieran felt like it was his fault; He let the men pass and took Jack, apologising for every day to Abigail for what he did.

You told him it wasn't his fault; he didn't know, you would have done the same. Kieran pulled you into a hug, wanting to comfort you in this hard time. His heart jumped in his throat when you hugged back, gently rubbing his head.

'Just tell her how you feel, damn it!' He screamed in his head.

A few days later, luck was on their side when Dutch, Arthur and John brought Jack back. You picked Jack up and kissed all over his face when everyone stopped hogging him. "Don't scare us like that again, Jack."

"I won't Auntie _____." Jack giggled as he held onto you. The sight made Kieran smile, like how you get along with children so well.

Everyone celebrated and cheered, drinking until the sun came up. Even Karen was nudging Kieran to drink. He was surprised she was the first to relax around Him since last month she kept threatening to kill him in his sleep. His eyes glanced at you, seeing you were dancing with Uncle. It was terrible since he was flat out drunk, but you both seem to be having fun anyway.

Maybe it was the drinks or what but he wanted to admit to you how he felt. It was too long to him and just wanted to get the air cleared. After the dance with Uncle, he walked over. "_-_____. Can...Can I talk to you for a second?" He asked.

You smiled up at him. "Of course, Kieran. What's wrong?" You asked. After a few silent seconds, he nervously took your hand and led you inside, too embarrassed to tell you in front of everyone. He thought Arthur's room would be the quietest. "You okay?" You asked.

"_____, I..." He swallowed the lump in his throat, his face heating up while his hands started to sweat. Shit... "I...I just..."

"..." You got closer when he couldn't speak, Kieran got taken back when you have gotten closer that his back hit the door. "Kieran." You muttered, cupping his cheek to pull him into a sweet kiss. His heart stopped in his chest when your lips met, loving how soft they were. "I know..."

"K-Know, what?" He shuttered, his nails digging into the door.

"That you like me...I like you too." You giggled. "I'm surprised you didn't notice. I am always around you; I give you your meals and always wash your clothes. I just...Love the smell of you." Your cheeks felt hot when you continued. "I don't like fishing, but I like it when you're teaching me, especially when your hands are on me..." You placed a hand on his chest, leaning in to whisper into his ear. "I know that wasn't a fishing rod poking me...I'm flattered. I held myself in place so that I wouldn't grind up against you."

His face went beet red at your words, his Adam's-apple bobbing along his neck. “_____, I...Fuck...” Fuck it..! He cupped your cheek and brought you in for another kiss, his arm holding your body close. “Mmm...” He couldn’t hold it in any longer, just wanting you and you alone. He felt you run your fingers through his hair, which made his hat fall, the kiss deepen. Kieran was now pressed against you, already feeling the hard-on against your dress.

“Mmm...Let’s take it to the bed. You can’t walk out like this.” You smiled playfully, grabbing his neckerchief to drag him along.

“O-On Arthur's bed?” Kieran shuttered, not wanting Arthur walking in and kicking his ass.

“Yes? A bit exciting, right?” You pushed him on to the bed, then unstrapped your dress, sliding it off your shoulders. Kieran watched, biting his lip when he saw more of your skin. You took your garments off, now bare for him but covered your lower area. He moved his body up, sitting on the bed as his hands ran along your thighs, placing kisses on your stomach. “Kieran.” You muttered, running your fingers through his hair. You moved his body entirely onto the bed, taking off his clothing to get him naked with you. “Mmm...You are excited.” You hummed, your palm rubbing up against his throbbing cock.

“Hah, sorry. I just really...Don’t deserve this.” He breathed out, his hands tracing up to your hips, shivering on how smooth you felt under his touch. “You deserve a man like Arthur...He is a perfect man compared to M-Me.”

“Kieran...I don’t want Arthur. I want you...” You leaned down to give him a kiss, feeling his hard cock brushing against your ass. “You are the man I want...The cute and kind-hearted man who looks at me with pure love every day and who makes me laugh...That is the man I want.” You muttered, raising your hips to brush his red, hot tip against your pussy, hearing the man groan underneath you. “Mmm...Just enjoy it, sweety. Just take me in.” You breathed out before lowering yourself, both of you moaning when his cock slipped inside. He may not be thick but won by how long he was, whimpering when he hits your womb. “S-Shit...Kieran..”

“Ah-! F-Fuck, you’re so-” Kieran gasped, gripping your hips more as your walls squeezed his cock. “You feel so good...Oh god, Y-You’re throbbing so much.” He muttered, looking up at you with pure lust in his eyes. “Please ride me...” You placed your hands on his chest and started to move your hips, raising and lowering yourself onto his throbbing core. “Nnh-Fuck, _____...” He heard your wet lewd when he slipped inside, again and again, wetting his cock, which became easier for you to move. “Ah...I’m so F-Fucking lucky.”

“S-So am I...Mmm, you feel so good.” You moaned out, continuing to move your hips which made your ass slap against Kieran’s small thighs. “Nnn...I love how deep you are. Hah, Do you want to come inside me?” You gasped when his cock throbbed, a small smile on your lips by the action. “Does that excite you?” Kieran bit his lip and blushed when you continued, bucking his hips up to go deeper. You leaned forward to whisper into his ear. “Do you ah-Want your cum inside me? F-Fill me up until I’m gushing with your cum...Maybe breed me..?”

“Y-You’re killing me, _____.” He whimpered when you purred in his ear, moving your hips down to go in deeper. Oh, it did excite him. He wanted to paint your walls with his load. The pregnancy was the tip of the cake, making his mind foggy. “O-Oh please, can...Hah, Can I cum inside you?” He begged, pecking your neck before you pulled away, your hips slapping against him which made him cry out. “F-Fuuuck, your P-Pussy is so good..!” He choked.

“F-Fuck, Kieran...You can.” Your hand ran down to rub your clit, watching the man underneath you become putty. “Ah..!” You cried when he slammed you down, hitting your womb so rough. “F-Fuck..!”

“_____, I...I-I can’t. Ngh-Anymore and I-I’ll come. Fuck, it’s so good..!” He slurred, closing his eyes as he just wanted to feel the lustful bliss. “I want to cum in your womb and G-Get you breeding my kids, fuck..! Hah! Come, come, come! I want to feel your walls squeeze me..!” And you were, your stomach burning and your walls milking him for his climax. “_____, _____..! F-Fuck!” He cried out as he finally came, thrusting you down for his cum to fill you up.

“Nnh!” You cried out; your body shook at the pleasuring climax. “Kieran...Fuck.” You rested on his chest, panting to calm your beating heart. His hands ran along your back to ease you, whimpering when his cock softened and slipped out of you, his cum leaking out. “Fuck..I...I-I didn’t know you were so vocal.” You giggled, playing with his chest hair.

“That...That is what you do to me.” He weakly smiled as he held you close, pecking your lips. “Never leave my side...P-Please.” He muttered, his eyes softened as he looked over your face.

You kissed him again and smiled. “I won’t, sweety...” You didn’t want this to end...But the door burst open.

“What in the goddamn hell is this!?

Oh shit, it’s Arthur!

THE END! 

[danbensen]

…or how tracking my life told me I was abusing coffee and social media

So there I was, my nails digging into my palms, my right molars pressed into each other. The air hissed in through my nose as my vision narrowed to a point. It was like hurtling down a roller-coaster. It was was terrifying, and I had no idea why it was happening.

I’d be doing nothing especially ominous – sitting down on the couch, carrying my younger daughter, thinking about bread – and suddenly I’d be gripped by this intense sensation of danger. BREAD! The image of a whole-grain loaf gained the mass of a church bell. DOOM! It rang. Toll the yeasty knell, oh brazen fate, for all men shall one day die. Die, oh, mortal flesh. Die and meet thy baker. (whoo! I am so sorry about that pun. Deep breaths now…)

Tiny drops of steam Ebb and flow before the light With each of my breaths.

It was ridiculous, but of course knowing that it was ridiculous didn’t help. I was like a cat, freaking out for no reason. Or was there no reason? Aren’t I supposed to listen to my body, now that I’m meditating and whatnot? But what exactly was my body supposed to be telling me? Avoid carbs? Run from the couch? Something about my daughter…? Yeah, If I searched hard enough for a reason to be terrified, I’d surely find one. Now there’s a reason for fear.

So I meditated more. I stopped using social media. I took my daughters to the park and watched the sky as it changed from brass to rose and the street lights blinked on. I talked to Pavlina. And I realized that over the course of the past month, I’d gone from drinking two cups of coffee a day to four.

The trees turn black and The sky, indescribable. Look up and it’s changed.

Scheduling is hard. My older daughter’s in first grade now, and school starts at 8:10 in the Center. The younger one’s in kindergarten, which starts at 8:30 in Levski G. At some point, it would be nice if Pavlina and I could go to work, which is back in the Center. If we want to have breakfast and drink our coffee in peace, we need to wake up at 6:15. Three hours later, I’m finally in the office and I’m tired. That scares me because I associate being tired with being sick. Fatigue=death.

I’m supposed to listen to my body, but my body is a stupid animal. It’s not going to say, “you’re drinking too much coffee.” It says “coffee reminds me of being happy!” and “not being productive scares me!” It says “I’m tired! I must have cancer again!” It’s up to me to keep track of what I’m doing, cut out the distractions, and give myself enough mental room to notice the patterns.

Right. So that’s why I’m not doing social media any more. Because part of the reason I was too distracted to notice I was drinking too much coffee was the last newsletter I wrote. I posted it on facebook, which made me want to check facebook for likes and comments. And once I was on facebook, why not see what other people are posting? Oh. Oh. That’s what they’re posting. Oh no.

I debated writing this explanation. Why not just stop using social media? Why talk about it on social media? But my litmus test for whether I should write something is “will this help people?” Maybe this is helpful: social media is distracting and depressing. It fills my head with noise. Maybe you have the same problem and this is the solution.

The sky at seven The color of hope that hurts And the crying swifts

I’ll continue to post my work on my website (including these newsletters) and mirror or link to those posts on Tumblr, Twitter, and Facebook. Readers are welcome to like and comment, but I’ll only read those comments once a week (Friday seems like a good day). Comments on my website, PMs, and emails to me will get my attention earlier. I won’t read any content that isn’t sent personally to me or that I didn’t sign up for. Hopefully that means I’ll still get news from people I care about, but not about tragedies that I have no power to solve. That way, I can continue to function from hour to hour.

What do you think? Is this going to work? Can I stay connected without sacrificing my mental health? Let me know in the comments. Or even better, email me.

In other news, I had some good writing stuff happen this month. Interchange has hit its 2/3 mark and, more importantly, its rhythm. I’ve managed to block off a fairly reliable 90-minute chunk of time in the mornings, which I use to meditate and then “speedwrite,” which means writing without thinking about what I’m doing. I generally end up with a single element of a scene, such as the conversation the characters are having, how they feel, what’s going on in the environment, or what actions the characters are taking.

Then I usually have some time after lunch (and my second and final coffee), and I can layer those scene-pieces onto each other and smooth the edges. If I have more time, I do research, which usually involves shooting messages to generous experts. In this way, the inestimable and inspiring Thomas Duffy helped me tie a ribbon around the center of my book, in which a biologist’s subconscious belief that she owns the environment she’s studying leads her to destroy it. As the forest crumbles around her, she blames herself…then makes exactly the wrong decision about what to do next. Yeah! Fiction! Thomas, I’m going to send you roses or cacti or something.

Another new tradition I’ve instituted is spending my Friday mornings not working on Interchange. It’s a little release of pressure, a chance to play and remind myself that writing isn’t just another chore I have to do. The first week, it was a short story. That one turned out so well, I’m going to try to publish it. It’s called “The Sales Event” and it’s about smart phones and general relativity. Do you want to beta-reader it?

I got another couple of “no”s from publishers about The Sultan’s Enchanter, but one of them was that very gratifying “no” that comes at the head of a long list of things I could do to fix the story. Making those fixes will be educational, even if that particular publisher still passes. Wealthgiver is rather like The Sultan’s Enchanter, after all, and the lessons I learn from one will be important for the other. The world needs more books about amoral Balkan people!

Yeah, I’m still working on Wealthgiver’s neo-Thracian language. I even posted a little of it on Tumblr. But don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten my little goats!

Kapt kapēnon ainē kesa / byźai darsai ypo dēsâ. Ēbron, aiźi, byźâs kâ / skalmon, bleptē, bystâs kâ, As tae yper iatśikan / kapâ pe ta ve abbrinkan.

There were at one time / brave goats under heaven. A kid, a nanny, and a billy goat / clever, loyal, and tough, Who would dance up / a hill for to make themselves fat.

Dâ ispilsen opē rinkon strymē / parân ân, śân târâ dymâ. Iśē iserpa źēryntē / źymlē mērē urdēnē. Byźulâs ada pyrân źilmân / dâ bolvarâs pia rhobton saimân.

But a quick-flowing river blocked / the path with an evil guard. There coiled a beast / a great water-dragon. A goat will eat green grains / but a serpent will slurp blood

Peskēnon ērga ēbron do. / Pliskon ērga śân negō. Źymlē zē semân iglytsa. / “Kis ēs tu?” Neston iglâtsa. “Semâs manon ēm ēźo.” / “San ar ēsti? Abadam so!”

First comes the kid. / It splashes with its hooves. The dragon heard this. / “Who are you?” she roared. “This only am I.” / “Is it so? I will eat you up!”

Things are heating up! I’m still not entirely comfortable with the articles and deitics, but I do like that last line. And the orthography is shaping up nicely. I love googly things over letters.

Another potential conlanging project for that other hundred years I plan to live: Western Hellenism. What if the Greeks had conquered Iberia?

And finally, PROTECTOR! This is the comic project I’ve been working on for literally six years. Words by me and Simon Roy, inks by Atryom Trakhanov, colors by Jason Wordie, and lettering by Hassan Otsmane-Elhadu. What a crazy, fun, glorious process this collaboration was!

Protector is a post-apocalyptic scifi story about a slave who stumbles across “a demon of the Profligate Age,” a military cyborg who’s been in hibernation for the past thousand years. The post-human robots who are terraforming the Earth are not amused, and send in some sweaty future-vikings to put a stop to these shenanigans.

There will be five issues, and issue one comes out in January. If you’re interested, please order a copy, or better yet, tell your local comic or book store to order lots of copies! Give us some numbers that will convince Image to ask for a sequel

And finally, some books and stuff

Daring Greatly by Brené Brown – this book wasn’t as transformative for me as it could have been because I’ve read Brown before and I already agree with her. Shame is bad. Vulnerability is the cure. Bam. What I like about Brown is that she collects good data, lets it prove her wrong, and suggests how the lessons from the data can be usefully applied. It’s not just science, it’s engineering.

Falling Free by Lois McMaster Bujold – I think this was the third read. What happens when GM humans become obsolete? What happens when an engineer has a spiritual epiphany? It wasn’t quite as much fun as some of Bujold’s other science fiction, but it has a lot of heart.

Spooky Action at a Distance by George Musser – an excellent physics book, examining the concept of space, which lies at the center of the contradictions of relativity and quantum physics. If space didn’t exist, the universe would be chaos, but a lot of experiments only make sense if space _doesn’t_ exist. Great stuff, and it inspired that short story I’m so proud of.

Death by Water by Kerry Greenwood – a refreshing splash of chilly New Zealand sea spray. Phryne pursues a jewel thief and has a little bit of sex, but a lot of good food, drink, and dancing. There’s also a hakka.

Wicked Prey by John Sandford – it was actually a little boring. The police’s side of the story didn’t hold up as well as the criminals’. But this is a relatively early book in the series, which means Sandford is improving.

The Upright Go Pro – it’s a little device that you glue to your upper back so it will buzz at you when you slouch. Immediately after I put it on, I realized I have little tiny tyrannosaurus arms that don’t reach any table or counter-top. It ran out of batteries one day and man did my back hurt that night. So I guess it’s working.

Gravity by Against the Current and Brighter by Patent Pending – Good Interchange music.

Be Kind to Yourself by Andrew Peterson – It makes me feel better.

Song of Durin by Clamavi De Profundis – I haven’t gotten goosebumps from a song in a long time. It’s about dwarves.

The Twits by Roald Dahl – I read it to my older daughter and boy howdy did Roald Dahl know how to write for children. Everything seems utterly ridiculous but it all somehow satisfies. Like eating dirt cake.

Steven Universe – My younger daughter found me rewatching it on my phone and made me cast it on the big TV. Now it’s all “I wanna watch Steeben dabout a Giant Woman. I’m Pearl.” No, younger daughter, you are not Pearl. Pearl is my older daughter. My younger daughter is Amethyst. Nobody is more Amethyst than my younger daughter. (I’m Peridot)

[chuffyfan87]

Hiding. Part 58b

Charlie smiled and helped her move along the bed so he had enough room to cuddle her.

She sighed contentedly as he wrapped his arms around her. "Did you bring Louis home?"

“Yes. Baz died the day before Oli was born.”

"I'm sorry." She paused. "Oli?"

“Oliver.” He said shyly, “Our son needed a name and I quite like Oliver. Oli for short.”

"I like it too." She smiled.

“Good. I’m glad.” He kissed her head. “You’re beautiful.”

"I look like hell." She countered.

“Still beautiful though. And sexy.”

"Never touch me again!" She giggled.

“We are never, ever having another baby. I’m going to get re-snipped.”

"Saves me a job!" Her grin had a menacing air about it.

“You’d miss my cock too much if you castrated me.” He whispered.

"Hmm..." She cast her eyes around her surroundings as she considered his statement.

“I thought I’d lost you.” He whispered.

"Stronger than I look." She replied with a yawn.

“You really are.”

"I was scared though." She admitted softly.

“So was I baby.”

"I'm sorry."

“No I’m sorry.” He kissed her head again.

"Why?"

“Because I’m partly responsible for this.” He ran his hand through her hair. “Now go to sleep gorgeous.”

"Was my idea." She mumbled, her eyelids growing heavy.

“Our idea.” When she was asleep, Charlie just held her in his arms.

After a little while a nurse arrived to take obs.

“Do you want me to move?” He asked quietly.

"No, it's OK. I'll work around you." She smiled.

He watched Duffy as she slept, she looked so peaceful. A tiny bit of colour back in her cheeks, not as pale as she had been.

The young nurse took the obs and then looked slightly confused at the results after she wrote them on the chart.

“What’s wrong?” Charlie asked.

She hesitated. "I guess it's OK to show you, you're a nurse too. I've not been here long and I don't want them to think I'm no good." She babbled nervously.

“I can help.” He smiled warmly, “You’re doing a brilliant job so far. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

"We've had trouble with her obs being all over the place since she arrived but now they seem to have suddenly settled back to normal. That can't be right can it? For them to improve that rapidly out of nowhere?" She asked, holding the chart towards him.

He smiled as he took the chart from the young nurse, “What’s your name?” He checked the chart and she was right. Duffy’s physical obs had settled down, “It’s

because I’m here.”

"Anna." She replied. "So I've not made a mistake? You saw me take the obs, I did it right?" She was babbling again. She suddenly realised who she was talking to. "I mean, of course, um, oh heck!" She'd gone bright red with embarrassment.

He made attempts to reassure her, “You did the obs absolutely right, please don’t panic. You’ll often find Duffy’s obs settle in the presence of either me or the children. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

"Oh OK, M-mr Fairhead." Anna stuttered. "I'm such a goof!" Her face felt like it was on fire. Of all the people to make an idiot of herself in front of...

“You’re doing brilliantly, even when you feel you’re not.”

"Thanks, that means a lot. You and your wife are pretty legendary amongst the nurses in this hospital."

Charlie smiled, “So I hear. But we’re really nothing special.”

"I should leave you in peace." Anna smiled. "If you need anything just let me know."

“I will. Thank you Anna, take care.”

"Thanks, Mr Fairhead."

“Call me Charlie, please. I hate it so formal.”

"Oh, oh OK, um, Charlie." Anna babbled as she backed out the room, almost tripping over her own feet as she did so.

"Stop scaring the nurses!" Duffy giggled, her eyes still closed.

“Hey, I wasn’t. And anyway, I thought you were asleep.”

"Eyes are closed."

He stroked her cheek.

"Nice I got a mention for once."

“I always mention you.” He smiled.

"Should hope so." She retorted as she snuggled herself against his chest. He'd moved back slightly to allow Anna to carry out her obs and hadn't had chance to move back. "I was comfy. Stop moving!" She complained as she shifted further across the bed towards him.

He rolled his eyes, “Yes bossy bum.”

"I was over there..."

“You moved?”

"You said I couldn't do that."

“That’s because you couldn’t.”

"But I just did."

He moved and got off the bed. “Can you stand up?”

She hesitated. "I'm scared to try."

“We'll do it together.”

"OK." She chewed her lip nervously. "Ready to catch me?" She chuckled darkly.

“Ready to catch you babe.”

She inched slowly to the edge of the bed.

He held his hands out towards her, his stomach flipping nervously.

Duffy reached out her arms to take hold of Charlie's hands but misjudged the distance.

He caught her hands, managing to keep her upright.

Confident that Charlie had hold of her she tentatively put her feet onto the ground.

“I won’t let you fall. Then again, wouldn’t exactly be the first time you’ve fallen at my feet would it?”

"Not funny." She muttered through gritted teeth as she tried to focus.

He chuckled softly to himself.

She pulled on his hands as she attempted to stand up.

He watched her as she stood up.

Her grip tightened in a panic as she felt her legs start to wobble.

“Relax, you’re not going to fall.” He reassured.

"Feel dizzy." She mumbled.

“Probably because it’s the first time you’ve stood up in 3 days.”

"Yeh." She felt increasingly wobbly as he only had hold of her hands.

“Would you like me to hold your waist?”

"If you can find it still." She muttered ruefully.

He immediately found her waist, “Of course I know where it is.”

"Hmm..." She lent forward to rest against him.

“You’re standing.” He smiled brightly!

"Just don't let go."

“I won’t, I promise.”

She managed to stand for another thirty seconds or so before her knees suddenly buckled.

He caught her and picked her up gently.

"Be careful!" She admonished playfully.

“I’m always careful. Especially with precious cargo.” He smiled brightly as he pecked her lips.

"Don't hurt your back. I'm heavy."

“No you’re not.”

She sighed as he placed her gently back on the bed. Her head was still spinning slightly and her body ached.

“Remember what I said? I don’t care about your size, Duffy. I never have. You’re incredibly beautiful and sexy the way you are. And I worship your body for doing such amazing things like growing and birthing our beautiful children.”

"I care though." She frowned.

“I know you do but I wish it didn’t bother you as much as it does.”

"I'm trying. It's hard." She sighed.

“I know, baby, I know.” He lay beside her.

She rested her head on his chest, her eyelids growing heavy again.

“Now as a senior nurse, I insist you rest.” He whispered.

"I would argue..." She yawned.

“Yes you would.”

She yawned again. "Will argue later." She replied sleepily.

“Like always.” He teased.

"Someone needs to." Her voice was but a whisper.

He smiled, “Love you.”

"Love you too." She mumbled as she fell asleep.

He didn’t want to disturb her as she slept so he stayed with her for an hour or so.

Anna crept quietly back into the room. "There's a visitor outside, Charlie." She whispered.

“Ok, thank you.” He smiled as he gently moved Duffy, covering her with a blanket.

Kate was waiting outside. "Charlie, can I see her?"

He smiled, “She's been asleep for about an hour but sure. How are you?”

"I'm fine." She replied dismissively.

“You and your daughter are far too alike.”

"I doubt she'd appreciate you saying that! She's willful and impetuous like her father."

“And she’s just as stubborn as you.” He smiled.

"Maybe." Kate smiled softly. "I did a lot of thinking last night." She reached into her handbag and pulled out a letter. It was aged and crumpled but unopened.

“About what?” He asked, the concern evident in his voice. They may not always see eye to eye but Charlie did care deeply for Kate.

"I lied to her. When she asked if I'd heard from her father since he left." She turned the letter towards Charlie. On it was written 'To my little Li-Li'. "It arrived around the time she had Peter. I should have given it to her but I felt she had enough on her plate. As time went on it just got harder and harder..."

“You wanted to protect her, I’d do the same in your shoes.” Charlie told her gently.

"She won't see it that way though."

“No she won’t, I know.” He sighed sadly.

"I have no idea what it says. I don't know what to do. I decided last night to give it to her but now I'm not so sure."

“Because you still want to protect her?” Charlie asked.

[andrustara]

Premier League Fixtures | Sky Sports

Epl schedule tomorrow - EPL Fixtures This Weekend |

If you have the Premier League then your app should be pristine video quality. They have eye money and the resources. NBC Sports gets a little lazy with the video quality because they know that no other tv network in the United States has any plans to buy the rights to click at this page the PL anytime in the near future. Can somebody please teach the idiots at NBC about what full match stats are. This happens quite often.

She never persists and changes the subject or cuts to a commercial epl schedule tomorrow. How lucky are you guys!!! Due to the virus, soccer watchers are at the mercy of network TV. Fun at first but boring.

A second sighting could be most instructive. Also, when the League starts epl schedule tomorrow, why not run the words the fans sing across the bottom of the screen. Is that a good idea. Rex Hearn, 89, Manchester City supporter since 7. Surely after all these years some enterprising fan has collected them in book form to which epl schedule tomorrow may refer. We understand! Rex Hearn. Love that we have epl schedule tomorrow start of a fixture list.

Just wondering about your source? Hi Ian, epl schedule tomorrow clubs and NBC Sports as well as other media outlets wait until tomorros is officially announced before publishing the schedules. Thanks again. It says that it is on Telemundo in the official Premier League app and I am just wanting to make sure that it is true. Sometimes the official Premier League app has informative post wrong listings. Yes, the Peacock games on Sunday will be on Gold as shedule.

Brighton-Newcastle will be on Peacock and Gold also. Replays for tojorrow matches will be available after 9 pm ET. I tried the Gold this year, but never had enough discipline to not look up the scores until 9 pm. I will not sign up for package next season. In total, Peacock Premium will present more than 1, hours of Premier League live match schedul epl schedule tomorrow programming — the most robust offering epl schedule tomorrow available in the U.

Included are full-event replays for all matches on-demand after 9 p. Here in the U. IT makes it very easy to track your wagers, post the odds, track different sportsbooks to select the best odds. Do you know if there is anything like that published in the U. I would love to subscribe to it as it would make wagering on the games less time consuming and more enjoyable.

I would imagine if there is they also might publish for the German, and other Premier level leagues. Thanks for any help you can give me.

Sky Sports picks the games for their television broadcasts, which sometimes require approval from police scheduoe games that are derbies or matches that are considered to be more dangerous requiring additional police protection for fans. The process takes time. I blame all three of them because they have cheated a huge number of Premier soccer fans from a great deal of pleasure.

A pox on all three of these selfish organizations! They took it away, now you have to pay to get it? I think you call epl schedule tomorrow extortion!? At least this Saturday and Sunday I actually will get 3 each day; unless that changes between now epl schedule tomorrow then!!! Can epl schedule tomorrow find a phone number to call Peacock for live help? I mentioned before to very wary of giving them sdhedule credit card information.

EPL Fixtures This Weekend

Rip off artists. So apparently, if epl schedule tomorrow want to watch the reigning EPL champs, you need Peacock at the moment. Maybe in November I can watch Liverpool. Epl schedule tomorrow noticed that!!! A real shame. Like I tell everyone, it was fun while it lasted! Looks like Christopher Harris was right. NBC is screwing over its cable subs a bit more this year. Chris: thanks for the link.

I caution people again to be wary of this vendor. Do you want the shock epl schedule tomorrow being wrongly charged? The hassle of dealing with an organization that hides its phone number?

Whose chat line appears inoperative? Other contact info made difficult to obtain? Even the investigator writing up the case noted difficulty reaching them. Do you have the time and disposition to deal with such problems for such a poor service? Will report outcome. Obviously it looks e;l an error occurred with otmorrow experience. Many companies make it difficult epl schedule tomorrow find their phone number.

I already pay for Peacock Premium but, unlike every other non-HBO service, it is difficult to watch Peacock outside of the home. My friend has an old Roku and a Amazon fire stick, so the app is unavailable. And she is a Comcast customer. But if you are paying for it then it should be available wherever you want to watch it.

But NBC is making it very difficult for me to share my love tomorroww the game with others. A quick update on my Peacock tribulation. Good news. Thanks to Chris H.

The sign up process was clunky, user unfriendly, and I had no confirmation that it epl schedule tomorrow thru. So I tried again but this time more cautiously opting for visit monthly, as my confidence in Peacock ebbed.

Premier League TV schedule and streaming links

Bingo… access to the Prem! I received the monthly charge, but later also got charged for the whole year for the failed sign up. My error was that, in my initial frustration to get activated, I must schesule entered my email incorrectly. So they were also charging me for that service, feeding to nobody or someone lucky! It was epl schedule tomorrow result of a harried fan being careless out of frustration, but why not install a system that would require email validation?

Looks like Peacock Premium subscribers have been screwed over?? How greedy is that? Just using it to force in new Peacock viewers!! I hope they lose the next Premier League contract. I only say this because there are many epl schedule tomorrow cutters that hope this same thing happens — but only so they can actually watch a top level match like this one via schedle stream only service like Peacock. Not as long as providers know that their traditional cable networks still draw a significant revenue stream, yet also can do so via their separate stream-only service.

EPL is most watched euro soccer league in the US and any provider will do what they can to maximize their revenue possibilities. If you epl schedule tomorrow a later model of the Roku devices with their latest software you can screen mirror to epl schedule tomorrow Roku. You then control the start and end of the game from your iPad but the video and sound comes from your TV.

I Have just bought a gen6 IPad and maybe this will do better. tomrorow pay for Peacock Premium on my old pad, how do I get to install epl schedule tomorrow on my new one without having to pay twice? Rebecca You should definitely be able to see an option to just login to Peacock app with your current profile do not sign up again epl schedule tomorrow the new iPad so helpful site to not be epl schedule tomorrow. Rebecca since Peacock allows multiple streams at the epl schedule tomorrow time your old iPad installation will not epl schedule tomorrow you from installing the app epl schedule tomorrow the Apple App store and than being charged again.

Just install the app and provide login credentials like email address and password. As far as your freezing problem is concerned it could be that your WiFi connection to the iPad is not very good. Make sure that your WiFi connection is excellent 5 bars. Other users did complain that Peacock does buffer the stream too many times to their liking.

So distinguish between buffering and freezing, epl schedule tomorrow will show a twirling circle. I always have to make sure not to connect to my Scyedule 5GHz epl schedule tomorrow as somehow that one is not as good as my 2. If I pay for the product I should be able to access the epl schedule tomorrow whenever I want to, how I want to and at a time that best suits me.

LTx In other topics here it was hotly debated what you mentioned. Several factors contributed to the lack of features in the Peacock App. There was no clear strategy how to present to the tomodrow the games as is evident by the dividing the matches between NBC, NBCSN and Peacock and than again a change in strategy by dropping games from the On-Demand Peacock streaming.

It all reeks a bit of an amateurish approach. Liverpool v. Now I am paying for less??? Makes you dizzy trying to figure it out each week. There is an error on the scheduling. On Sunday the 7th you show Wolverhampton v. Leeds and on Monday the 8th you show Leeds v. Crystal Epl schedule tomorrow. As s Leicester City fan I was miffed there was no game scheduled so went to their site and see they are epl schedule tomorrow to play Sunday v.

Otherwise keep up the good work! Man City game on Peacock will have spanish comm by the Telemundo crew epl schedule tomorrow for the first time. Life, for me, is more complicated with Peacock streaming more of the big games. Do the brave thing everyone and cancel Peacock! Then they will blog epl schedule tomorrow implement a scheeule model.

Save my name, email, and website in this browser for the next time I comment. Competition: Schedulr League. Saturday, April 10 am EDT. Free Trial. Browse Offers. Rex Hearn January 21, Vasil February 22, Dave L May 13, Jack July 2, Payasos February 23, Chris March 23, Rex Hearn August 7, I love your humor,! Rex Hearn 88, City fan since 7!! Sam May 29, Bruce Duffy February 17, I totally agree with Rex. FIX IT!!!! Echedule Eaker March 8, Tom March 15, Christopher Harris March 15, Mike August 12, Is there epl schedule tomorrow venue that allows for subscription?

Thank You. Mike Borelli. Christopher Harris August 13, Doc March 25, Azer March 26, JP March 26, Doc March 28, Burnley 0 0 West Ham United. Chelsea 0 0 Fulham. Crystal Palace 0 0 Manchester City. Everton 0 0 Aston Villa.

Manchester United 0 0 Liverpool. Newcastle United 0 0 Arsenal. Southampton 0 0 Epl schedule tomorrow City. Tottenham Hotspur 0 0 Sheffield United. West Bromwich Albion 0 0 Wolverhampton Wanderers. Arsenal 0 0 West Bromwich Albion. Aston Villa 0 0 Manchester United. Fulham 0 0 Burnley. Leeds United 0 0 Tottenham Hotspur. Leicester City 0 0 Newcastle United. Liverpool 0 0 Southampton. Manchester City 0 0 Chelsea.

Sheffield United 0 0 Crystal Palace. West Ham United 0 0 Everton. Wolverhampton Wanderers 0 0 Brighton and Hove Albion. Burnley 0 0 Leeds United. Everton 0 0 Sheffield United. Crystal Palace 0 0 Aston Villa. Manchester United 0 0 Tomorrod City. West Bromwich Albion 0 0 Liverpool. Chelsea 0 0 Arsenal. Newcastle United 0 0 Manchester City. Southampton 0 0 Fulham. Tottenham Hotspur 0 0 Wolverhampton Wanderers.

Brighton and Hove Albion 0 0 Manchester City. Burnley 0 0 Liverpool. Epk 0 0 Leicester City. Crystal Palace 0 0 Arsenal. Everton 0 0 Wolverhampton Liverpool full match highlights этом. Manchester United 0 0 Fulham. Newcastle United 0 0 Sheffield United. Southampton 0 0 Leeds United. Tottenham Hotspur 0 0 Aston Villa.

[badbackgroundscience]

Spider-Man better not have spider blood

You remember that plot line in the franchise-killing The Amazing Spider-Man 2: Electro Boogaloo where mini!Osbourne wants Spidey’s blood ‘cause he’s gonna live to be an old man with a disease that makes him look not like a power ranger baddie? And Spidey doesn’t want to give it to him because he fears what a transfusion will do?

Not entirely made up for the movie.

For you see, all the way back in The Amazing Spider-Man #10, Aunt May needs a transfusion, and Peter almost refuses (right in front of a couple of his fellow students) - though not because of what it might do to her, but because something in his blood might reveal his superpowers to the world (That’s real selfish, dude).

However, 1960′s medical technology is unable to detect anything, so Pete’s second identity is safe for now. His strength, meanwhile, is weakened for the rest of the comic, so he has to work a bit harder to catch the baddie, who turns out to be a fellow employee of the Bugle named Frederick Foswell.

(He’s a mask-wearing mob boss named The Big Man. JJ thinks it’s Spider-Man. JJ thinks every bad guy is Spider-Man. Spider-Man, meanwhile, thinks it’s JJ.)

Let’s talk about blood.

First, let’s get the “spider blood cells” out of the way, because if Peter actually had spider blood, the last thing he’d be worried about is a doctor finding out he has superpowers.

While spiders do have circulatory systems, they function incredibly differently than what you’re familiar with (Unless, of course, you study spider anatomy for a living). What you’d call their ‘blood’ is actually a more generic bodily fluid called hemolymph. Like human blood, it’s made of cells and proteins suspended in plasma, but unlike human blood, it’s not different from the fluid that exists between all the various tissues in the body.*

The hemolymph gets pumped by the heart into a cavity called the hemocoel, bathing organs directly with its oxygen and nutrients, and then gets pushed back into the heart. It doesn’t stay in one closed series of tubes going around and around.

This “open circulatory system” requires less energy than a closed one like you or I (or other animals more complex than arthropods) have, but doesn’t have the high pressures needed to get blood back to the heart particularly fast, so it wouldn’t work for any animal with an oxygen-hungry metabolism.

In humans, oxygen is transported via red blood cells, which are made up of a protein called hemoglobin. Some arthropods (which includes spiders) use the copper-based hemocyanin instead. It’s dissolved into the hemolymph - rather than existing as ‘blue blood cells’ - and is a much less efficient oxygen transport method than hemoglobin (carrying 17x less). So just like an open circulatory system, it’s probably not the best thing for a warm-blooded human-sized super agile spider hero.

The cells that do exist in spider blood exist as part of the immune system and for healing wounds and stuff. There’s a chart comparing human blood cells to spiders’ here. That does not mean they’re interchangeable and Aunt May’s body would appreciate getting infused with them...

But let’s pretend for a moment that Peter doesn’t have superpowers. His blood is just regular ol’ blood whether the tests can tell or not.

We never do find out what blood type Peter is, or what blood type Aunt May is. In fact, at this point in the comics we don’t know exactly how Aunt May is related to Peter. The fact that they share a last name suggests Uncle Ben was Peter’s dad’s brother, unless they adopted him and he took their last name. Assuming the former, Peter has no blood relation to his aunt, which means the likelihood of him being a compatible donor is the same as the likelihood he’s a compatible donor for Liz or Flash or the doctor. 

Among Caucasian Americans, 37% have O+ blood, and 33% have A+. So if we’re randomly guessing, both Peter and May would probably belong to one of those. O+ can donate red blood cells to A+, but not the other way around.

Here’s a quick refresher on blood types: If you’re type A like me, then your red blood cells have a protein on them called an “A antigen”, and your plasma has antibodies that attack red blood cells with the B antigen on them. If you’re type B, it’s the other way around. Type O red blood cells have neither antigen, and both antibodies in the plasma. And type AB red blood cells have both antigens, and no antibodies.

The antibodies are why you have to worry about who’s giving you blood. It’s also why the red blood cells have to be separated from the plasma before they can be donated. We’re often told O- is the “universal donor”, but if you just pumped a person’s O- blood straight into an A person, the A antibodies in the O plasma would attack the person’s own red blood cells (The B antibodies wouldn’t do anything, because a type A person already has them). AB plasma, on the other hand, can be given to anyone.

The +/- matters, too. That’s a separate antigen, known as Rh (D) (”Rhesus D”). If you’re a + you have it, and if you’re a - you don’t. Type - can be donated to type +, and + can be donated to a - exactly once (because after that, the body becomes primed to fight it).

If you botch a transfer with the wrong blood/plasma type, a patient can go into renal shock and die. So...don’t do that.

In addition to ABO and Rh, there are 33 other recognized “blood group systems”, with more than 600 antigens that can be found (or not found) in blood. Some differences are restricted to certain ethnic groups. For example, people with African ancestry might have red blood cells that lack the Duffy antigen, which actually gives them resistance against malaria. I don’t think we have to worry about Aunt May not having that one.

So, let’s assume Aunt May’s body will accept Peter’s donation. I don’t know what the practice was in the 1960′s,** but this day in age, blood has to go through testing. You can’t just draw blood out of a person, hand them a sandwich, then pump it into a person with a compatible blood type - even if you’re 102% positive both people have the same blood type. 

Maybe you’d resort to that if you were stranded in the middle of nowhere and the person was going to die ‘cause there was no other blood lying around (I’m sure I’ve seen this on television or in a movie before...), but not if you’re in a hospital. Even if the hospital was out of the blood they needed, they’d call around the city.

The other problem is the volume of blood needed. According to the Red Cross, the average red blood cell transfusion is 3 pints. But when donating blood, they only take 1 (or 0.5 L). The average adult body has 10 pints (or 5 L) of blood - being a pathetic teenager, Peter would probably have less. 

But say he did. That means he’d be giving his aunt around 30% of his entire blood supply.

Losing that much blood would likely send him into hypovolemic shock.

But I mean, Peter was once willing to give up the life of his child to save his dying aunt, so he probably wouldn’t mind killing himself to do it.

* A bit more detail: in a human’s closed circulatory system, red blood cells can’t leave the capillaries (ditto for certain proteins) so the “interstitial fluid” - i.e. the fluid in between tissues/organs - is similar to blood plasma, but it’s distinctly different from blood. In the open circulatory system spiders and other creatures have, the hemolymph is all there is.

** The first blood bank was established in Leningrad, in 1932. The American Red Cross blood program started in 1940, and in 1962 there were 4400 hospital blood banks in the US collecting 5-6 million units of blood per year. 

The concept of blood typing and universal donors comes from circa 1910. Nowadays, blood is tested for many markers (in addition to ABO and Rh) that would make the blood unsuitable for transfusion, including Hepatitis B and C, HIV, syphilis, and Chagas disease.

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The Amazing Spider-Man #10 - Writer: Stan Lee, Art: Steve Ditko

Image Credit:

Spider_internal_anatomy by John Henry Comstock, CC BY 3.0

[10moonymhrivertam]

A Wound Too Deep? An Academic Essay on authorial ethics and BBC’s Sherlock (The edited version)

Being asked to use one of my readings to complicate another has been a trial for me. With these readings, I’ve had no great breakthrough like I did with the last set. I must consider, though, that John Duffy’s “Writing Involves Making Ethical Choices” has struck a chord to do with my non-academic real life at the moment, if only because I believe Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss to have been unethical in their writing of BBC’s Sherlock. Duffy says a writer must ask themselves: “What kind of writer do I wish to be? What are my obligations to my readers? What effects will my words have upon others, upon my community?” I answer, as a fan, that whatever they wished, they were, in the end, deceitful writers; they did not fulfill their obligations to their viewers; and while the community that was created from fans coming together over their writing was a positive effect of said writing, their latest (possibly last) impact on said community was profoundly negative.

If one looks solely at the contents of Sherlock, it doesn’t appear deceitful. Up until series 4, it told a cohesive story that many people enjoyed! It was when you examined outside interviews or commentary that the relationship between Gatiss, Moffat, and their fans began to look deceitful. Many fans were growing confused by series three, except a small segment of their fandom that was reading the show through a queer lens - that the writers’ endgame was for John Watson and Sherlock Holmes to become explicitly romantically involved. These fans were told this wasn’t the case several times, but found it difficult to believe because of quotes like - “[W]e do our best to surprise you with a combination of lies and deceit. So we’re never going to tell you what we’re going to do.” (IGN, Jan 2014). So despite being told “I don’t think there is anything that suggests Sherlock is gay but if he was he wouldn’t fancy John [Watson]” by Steven Moffat (digitalspy.com), because the writers also frequently admitted they were lying to their audience, the audience took what they saw in the show and ignored what the writers said in “real life”, and when they heard in The Lying Detective (the second episode of series 4) that “romantic entanglement would complete [Sherlock] as a human being”, they were sure validation was coming. This was a show that had always seemed interested in separating man from legend, reminding everyone that the deer stalker was never mentioned outright in the original Holmes stories, just a flair by an illustrator that caught on like wildfire. The show had always tried its hardest to make Sherlock more human. Therefore, these niche fans were sure that despite the confusion they may have felt in the third or fourth season, the third episode of series 4 would end in a romantic arc, probably fighting against Moriarty, a prior big bad potentially brought back from the dead, or Sebastian Moran, who was Moriarty’s right-hand man in the books but who never showed up in the show. What they received instead was a secret psychopath sister, not even a hint of romance, and plot holes such as: an army doctor not recognizing human bones; John Watson chained to the bottom of a well but, despite still being chained, somehow managing to climb a rope to get out of the still-filling well; a well that was within sight of the Holmes’ house being used to drown a boy who was never found, except whose bones are still in the well, twenty or thirty years later, by the time the episode is set.

Gatiss and Moffat had a pretty playful rapport with their fans - everyone spent two years together waiting for series 2. The conclusion of series 2 spawned idea after idea after idea - there was a popular idea that Sherlock had jumped off to land in a laundry truck, or that somehow Moriarty’s corpse had been disguised as Sherlock and was what had fallen off the building. Fans were shocked and delighted to see both of these ideas pop up in the first episode of season 3, and that was when they began to wonder if the writers were aware of the fans’ social media presence, and therefore aware of what their fans believed their obligations were and what Moffat and Gatiss’ most dedicated demographic was - young, queer people. These young, queer fans believed that the writers’ obligations - as a gay man and a man who has several queer characters in his writing history (Jack Harkness, Madam Vastra, and Jenny, all from his time on Doctor Who), men who said that they were “correcting everyone else” (premiumhollywood.com) - were to “make television history” (This one comes from Amanda Abbington at a San Diego Comic Con) and make Holmes fandom history by explicitly pairing John and Sherlock together. The writers have teased endlessly at the idea (Sherlock’s brother, Sherlock’s landlady, and an old client of Sherlock’s - all people who have known Sherlock for an extended period - assume John and Sherlock are in a relationship within a day of each main character meeting the other; others don’t go that far but allude that our main characters do have feelings for each other - in A Scandal In Belgravia, Irene Adler - the baddie of the episode - remarks, after John has punched Sherlock, that “Somebody loves you. If I had to punch that face I’d avoid your nose and teeth, too.”) and therefore teased with fans’ expectations. Nothing has come of this teasing. It’s possible that something could happen, eventually - Benedict Cumberbatch, who plays Sherlock, is contracted for five seasons, if I recall correctly - but I and many other fans are worried the writers have left the show in a place they cannot pick back up from. Moriarty, the traditional Big Bad of Holmes stories, is gone. Mary, who left our hero clinically dead on the operating table until he restarted his heart from sheer force of will, has been killed. The secret psycho sister, Euros, is neutralized. Who else is there to fight? How do you create character development without an antagonist? I suppose the antagonist would not have to be a person, but in a show that has always had Big Bads before, I find man vs. self an unlikely fix. The most sensible way to fix it would be to have had all of series 4 or at least parts of it taking place in a character's head - not unprecedented, given The Abominable Bride turning out to be a bizarre drug trip for one of our characters - but why would they not have told us within the series that it was “fake”, when the average wait-time between seasons is two years?

Sometimes I’m not sure what I did with myself before I started watching Sherlock. I suppose I must have talked to people interested in Doctor Who or Harry Potter, but I did not roleplay or publish my writing as often as I have for Sherlock. The community I have discovered is fiercely intelligent, and beautifully, unabashedly queer. It’s a very open community, filled with every letter under the queer umbrella. Sherlock brought together these young, intelligent queer people; both who were already intense fans of Arthur Conan Doyle’s version of Sherlock, and those who only had a background cultural awareness. It was a beautiful community, and I cannot deny that in creating it, the writers did a good thing. So one would hope the writers were aware that their audience was not exclusive cisgendered and straight and neurotypical. That there were people in their audience who were transgender or gay or depressed/had Asperger’s/were otherwise neurodivergent, who find one thing they can trust and cling to it as a lifeline. It is risky and, perhaps, unreasonable to blame writers for an audience’s reaction, but I feel the writers should have noticed the dissonance between this series and their others before their fans began passing around suicide hotlines. If series 4 turns out to be all in a character’s head, there should have been a textual indication left before the fans were put on hold for years. If series 4 is not all in a character’s head, and is indeed all “real”, I feel that someone at some point in the editing process should have noticed that this series would be getting a Rotten Tomatoes audience score of 35%, as opposed to series 3’s 95%, series 2’s 98%, and the first series’ 98% (even the critics’ score drops from 100s or high 90s to a 63%). Alas, suicide lines were shared, and some of the loudest voices in the niche fan community have removed themselves, out of not being able to handle the hope of a “secret fourth episode”, or who feel awful for spreading “false hope”. It’s not only that they disappointed the fans with inconsistent writing, or that people didn’t see John and Sherlock confess their feelings, but that fans were sure they had found a bisexual man (John) and a gay, somehow neurodivergent man (Sherlock, and in the show, Asperger’s is offered off-handedly as an explanation for some of his behavior in The Hounds of Baskerville) who were finally going to have a happy ending. Instead, the only confirmed queer characters were antagonists or minor characters. Most notable are Irene Adler, who makes remarks suggesting Sherlock might be her ‘exception’ to her lesbian preferences and an antagonist in the single episode she shows up in; Jim Moriarty, who is introduced as a gay man trying to seduce Sherlock; Eurus, whose sexuality is introduced as she is talking about committing sexual assault and saying she wouldn’t have cared about the gender but no one could tell afterward whether her victim was a man or woman because she mutilated her victim so badly. So, yes, the writers created a wonderful, diverse, often divisive community, but failing to meet their viewers’ understanding of their obligations has left a lasting wound.

By Duffy’s definition of ethics and the philosophical questions he adapted to writing, Moffat and Gatiss have proved themselves to be unethical writers in the extreme. Just consider the dissonance between interviews in “real life” and writing on the show, not meeting their obligation of fixing what everyone else has done wrong and giving Sherlock Holmes a “romantic entanglement”, and hurting the community they created just before disappearing for at least another two years. Even if the writers return after those two years with a series 5 that fixes everything the fans were upset about - that plugs the plot holes, and has Sherlock and John talk about their feelings and perhaps even kiss - there will be some who are too wounded to return. Many who will stare, bewildered, from the sidelines, and wonder why there had to be gaslighting and the attacks on their queer reading before queer canon was handed to them on a silver platter.

Cornet, Roth. "Benedict Cumberbatch and Steven Moffat on Sherlock's Big Return for Season 3." IGN. IGN, 20 Jan. 2014. Web. 05 Feb. 2017.

Moffat, Steven, and Mark Gatiss. "The Lying Detective." Sherlock. BBC. 8 Jan. 2017. Television.

Posted by Will Harris (10/23/2010 @ 4:02 pm). "A Chat with Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss (“Sherlock”)." A Chat with Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss (“Sherlock”). N.p., n.d. Web. 05 Feb. 2017.

[limejuicer1862]

Wombwell Rainbow Interviews

I am honoured and privileged that the following writers local, national and international have agreed to be interviewed by me. I gave the writers two options: an emailed list of questions or a more fluid interview via messenger. The usual ground is covered about motivation, daily routines and work ethic, but some surprises too. Some of these poets you may know, others may be new to you. I hope you enjoy the experience as much as I do.

Deborah Harvey

Deborah Harvey’s poems have been widely published in journals and anthologies and broadcast on Radio 4’s Poetry Please, while her poem Oystercatchers recently won the 2018 Plough Prize Short Poem Competition. Her fourth collection, The Shadow Factory, will be published by Indigo Dreams during 2019. She has three previous poetry collections, Breadcrumbs (2016), Map Reading for Beginners (2014) and Communion (2011), also published by Indigo Dreams, while her historical novel, Dart, appeared under their Tamar Books imprint in 2013.

Deborah is co-director of The Leaping Word poetry consultancy.

https://theleapingword.com/

http://deborahharvey.blogspot.com/2018/10/the-shadow-factory.html

The Interview

1. What were the circumstances under which you began to write poetry?

I started writing poems and stories when I was a young child and continued throughout primary school, but as is so often the case, at secondary school the emphasis shifted onto learning for the purpose of passing exams, rather than exploring any creativity we might have; in fact, the teachers seemed to go out of their way to discourage such unruly impulses, and eventually I stopped writing altogether. Then, decades later, when I was struggling to raise four children and my marriage was falling apart, I had a very vivid, urgent dream, which seemed to me to be saying that unless I found a way of expressing myself, I’d die. So there I was, knowing I had to write poetry but not even sure what a poem was. I started to write what came, though, and to read poetry too, to make sure I was doing it right, and gradually the process became less agonising.

2. Who introduced you to poetry?

Being brought up in the Methodist tradition meant I was exposed to poetic images, language and cadences for several hours every Sunday from a very young age. I used to love the call and response of psalm reading, and hymns were great because I got to stand on the pew and sing words I didn’t understand but which were mysterious and conjured pictures in my head – fiery cloudy pillars, chariots rising into the sky, all that sort of stuff. So the poets of the Old Testament and Charles Wesley have a lot to answer for.

Then there was my grandmother, who taught me and my many cousins all our nursery rhymes and told us traditional stories with lots of repetition in them; tales like Chicken Licken and In A Dark Dark House. She wrote poems too, and always kept a scrap of paper and a pencil in her apron pocket to jot down lines and images as they occurred to her.

3. How aware were you of the dominating presence of older poets?

When I started writing 20 years ago, I was not only aware but completely over-awed. I’d enjoyed English literature at school and planned to study it at A-level, but was told by my teacher that I wasn’t good enough (even though I got As in language and literature at O-level).  I was completely thrown by this experience and believed what she’d said for years, so when I realised I had to write, the thought of reading poetry as well was very daunting. A few months earlier I’d seen a programme on telly about Ted Hughes’ ‘Birthday Letters’, so I took the plunge and found it completely absorbing. The second poetry book I bought was Sylvia Plath’s Collected Poems, and I went on from there.

4. What is your daily writing routine?

I have three day-jobs, two of which involve caring for dependents, so I rarely get a whole day to myself, and I’m pretty much on call all the time. What makes writing poetry a practical means of self-expression is that I can do it out of the corner of my eye, as I go about my day.

5. What motivates you to write?

The greatest motivator of all: the fear of dying before I’m finished. I think this is partly because I spent three decades in a relationship that was obliterating me, and I neglected my responsibility towards myself and my development as a creative human being. Now everything I do is an attempt to make up for the years I lost, and expressing myself by writing poems is a kind of redemption.

6. What is your work ethic?

It’s very basic, really. I try to spend at least a small part of each day writing, and if that’s not possible, doing something that will feed into my writing, whether it’s reading poetry or prose, walking somewhere new or in a place that has resonance for me, doing a bit of research, going to hear another, better poet read, watching starlings in the garden. Then, even if I’m stuck in a trough of discouragement, at least I can tell myself I’m cobbling together a ladder to climb out.

7. How do the writers you read when you were young influence you today?

Calling someone a coming-of-age author carries quite pejorative connotations, but the three writers who had the biggest impression on me as a child and teenager – Bulgakov, Camus and Steinbeck – shaped me to such an extent that I carry them with me every day.  ‘Master and Margarita’ is still a very important novel for me, and I don’t know where I’d be without my inner witch. As for ‘The Red Pony’, which I started to read by accident when I was seven and abandoned in disgust when it turned out to be about death rather than gymkhanas and rosettes, that early encounter coloured my whole life. That experience convinced that early exposure to seminal stories and poems has a profound effect on the developing imagination – as long as you remember to read them again later too, when you can fully understand them.

8. Who of today’s writers do you admire the most and why?

Alan Garner is just about the last of my childhood heroes who’s still alive. Reading ‘Boneland’ a few years ago, having grown old alongside the character Colin of ‘The Weirdstone of Brisingamen’ and ‘The Moon of Gomrath’, was profoundly moving, and I was bereft when the story ended. I am completely in awe of Garner’s connection with his landscape, and the way his stories inhabit mythic time.

In contrast, a writer I very much admire whom I read for the first time recently, is Rebecca Solnit. I got such a lot out of her memoir/travelogue ‘The Faraway Nearby’ that I’m lining up more of her books by my bed to read.

As for poets, there’s Alice Oswald, Kathleen Jamie and Stanley Kunitz for the way they capture nature; Charles Simic for his startling imagery; Neruda for always taking the reader with him on his huge associative leaps; Raymond Carver for his story-telling; Heaney and U A Fanthorpe for their unrelenting humanity; Carol Ann Duffy for her surety of touch; Kei Miller and Liz Berry for their true voices; Leonard Cohen for sounding like God; I could go on

9. Why do you write?

Because not writing is not an option.

10. What would you say to someone who asked you “How do you become a writer?”

Becoming a writer – a good one – means embarking on an apprenticeship that will last the rest of your life. You have to be prepared always to improve, to welcome criticism, and above all, to read the work of others. In fact, read whatever you can lay your hands on: poetry, novels, folk stories, plays, non-fiction, atlases, art books, biographies, soak it all up. Don’t ever think there’s no room for improvement.

The other thing is to be prepared to stick your neck out in order to get an audience for your writing. This can be particularly hard for poets. The impulse that makes us write poems often co-exists with a profound reticence when it comes to publicising our work. But poetry is an inherently collaborative art form, and a poem only fully exists when it is being inhabited by the reader, so all that uncomfortable stuff has to be done. Good luck with it.

11. Tell me about the writing projects you have on at the moment.

My fourth collection – The Shadow Factory – is due to be published by Indigo Dreams in 2019, so I’m now in that lovely space where I can turn my attention towards something new. Well, not really new; I’ve lived in Bristol all my life and have amassed stories, family anecdotes and memories, old photos, historical snippets, the voices you hear in the queue at the bus stop, the way places change and people come and go, but the city remembers how it always was and keeps re-creating itself in that image. The past in the present. I want to write all that.

Wombwell Rainbow Interviews: Deborah Harvey Wombwell Rainbow Interviews I am honoured and privileged that the following writers local, national and international have agreed to be interviewed by me.

[tessatechaitea]

Team Titans #19

Team Titans is an anagram of Steam Taint.

I never learned the proper use of prepositions, or what they even are, because it's the most unlistenable to Schoolhouse Rock song. Hmm, that was more of a tweet than the opening line to (of?) a review of (for?) a comic book from (in?) 1994. But then again, it's also a good example of how my reviews work. A thought strikes me based on something I just read or wrote, I have six thoughts more as the pinball in my brain bounces off of several bumpers, until I finally get control of the ball by resting it on an upraised flipper. Then I aim the ball and shoot it up the "Schoolhouse Rock Song" ramp and score the jackpot. I'm left feeling satisfied while everybody who just walked in and missed all the bumper action that lit up the jackpot are left thinking, "What the fuck is this asshole talking about?" From now on, I'm only going to speak in pinball analogies. Or is the lesson actually, "Write more of your process, dumbie!"? Schoolhouse Rock also never did a song about punctuation inside and outside quotation marks so I'm never going to be any good that that shit either. Avengers: Endgame has a good example of how I just write stuff that makes me happy without explaining why I'm writing that stuff. Without actually spoiling anything, there's a scene where some Avengers go to pick up Thor at his house in New Asgard. Taika Waititi's alien character lives with him and he's playing Fortnite. He begins to complain that some guy named SlutBanger called him a dick or something. At that moment, being a huge fan of Liz Lemon's terrible ex-boyfriend Dennis Duffy whose Xbox username is SlutBanger on 30 Rock, I now can't not think of 30 Rock as part of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. So instead of going on Twitter and explaining my theory on how 30 Rock has been incorporated into the Marvel Cinematic Universe and providing the SlutBanger evidence, I simply began tweeting things based on the assumption that everybody now understands it to be true. I could probably benefit from making my process more transparent.

War Devil's secret identity is Ward Evil.

Getting around to the comic book, a Team Titans team called Spectrum have arrived from the future to return the central-to-the-plot Team Titans back to 2001. I hate them immediately. One of them is all, "You deserve answers! But let's start with introductions!" Then instead of introducing herself as a person would when they say something like, "Let's start with introductions," she tells Terra that she's Terra, and Prester Jon that he's Prester Jon. And then when Terry is all, "Wait a second! That's not how introductions are done! What's your name?", she's all, "I don't have a name — I'm a color!" Well how about I just call refer to you as Fuck Off, You Stupid Puke Green Piece of Shit? Not that Terry Long would ever say anything like that! He's a wuss! Remember an issue or two ago when he was crushed by a grandfather clock? Hilarious! Later, one of the Spectrum refers to one of the other Spectrum as "Green." So I think they indeed have names! Jerks.

I don't want to embarrass anybody who worked on this comic book but one of the creative team might be an idiot.

Spectrum have been traveling through time collecting all of the members of the Team Titans (that's like thousands and thousands of characters!). Now, to prove that they're not lying about working for the mysterious leader, they need to bring all of the Team Titans together. Hopefully these characters will be more creative than what the writers of Bloodlines came up with. Let's see, there's Carpet Boy, Lapidus, Wonder Boy, The Enforcer, Murder Master, and Hero X. So, um, nope. No more creative. All of the Titans from throughout time head off to battle Lazarium, Lord Chaos's spy who has become the DC Universe's version of Rupert Murdoch. He's kidnapped Killowat to steal some of his power so that he can time travel back to 2001 and take over Lord Chaos's throne. This whole Lazarium plot exemplifies why I can rarely identify with the bad guy (unless it's Lobo because I was also super cool and had long hair and looked hot in jeans and wanted to kill my entire species. Representation matters!). Lazarium's ambition has garnered him a life full of money and power. He could just build an evil lair and retire to play video games when he's not getting adult massages from in-house professionals. Instead, he's created this life so that he can accomplish some other stupid fucking thing that doesn't seem any better than the life he currently has. Why would he want to take over Lord Chaos's role in a future where everybody rebels against Lord Chaos? Who are these people who need to constantly introduce more drama into their lives? You're living the life, Lazarium! Take it fucking down a notch now and enjoy it! Lazarium explains his plans like a good villain while Battalion, Redwing, Donna, and a comatose Nightrider have been detained by the government. It's a good thing Prestor Jon and his nearly infinite new powers is coming to rescue them. Prestor Jon has spent every panel since he returned exclaiming how he needs to find his sister, Redwing. He loves her so much and he wants to make sure she's safe and he'd do anything for her and he'll destroy anybody who gets in his way! It's all been so touching and he's been so passionate and it's all been one big fucking batch of twaddle.

"Ew! Your ears and fingernails got pointy! Gross! Get away from me!"

Prestor Jon has an elastic body that's actually disgusting and he's over here judging Redwing's cute new affectations? Hell, even if he wasn't elastic, he'd be a hypocrite for finding Carrie gross now. He does realize he's a ginger in his new body, right?! I should apologize to people with red hair and fair complexions but right now I'm drunk with the power of judging people on superficial differences! Is this what it feels like to be an incel online?! "Oh, nobody will fuck me, hunh?! Well, I wouldn't fuck you! Even if I had the choice! Which I don't! It's right their in my embraced nomenclature: involuntary celibate! But that's beside the point! People who are good looking enough to get fucked are shallow garbage monsters! What must it feel like to be just the other side of totally disgusting?! If only I were marginally less repugnant than I am! But it's impossible! In this society, there's no way a 1 or a 2 can pretty themselves up to a slightly fuckable 3! And don't encourage me to fuck other 1s and 2s! Gross!" Hmm. Maybe I need to apologize to both incels and gingers now. Although my mocking incel rant was just encouragement! Don't accept being unfuckable! Do something about it! And that something isn't read a book about how you need to trick women into sleeping with you! That something is doing the best you can at cleaning up, dressing, acting like a civilized person, and just enjoying things you enjoy around other people. You also have to, in some way, prove that you're a responsible person who has something to offer. I once flirted with a woman all weekend at a party in some remote location without anything more than friendly banter. Then on the way home, the car I was driving home (a friend's girlfriend's car because she probably knew it was a deathtrap!) got a flat and we wound up stranded on 580 all night (because she had a spare in the car but no jack). In the morning, I got out of the car with the tire and flagged down a helpful man. His jack was the kind you slide under and the car was a low Camaro that it wouldn't fit under. The guy explained he had to get to work but since he was the only person to stop, I was all, "Please! We'll get this!" I then got my other friend there to lift one side of the front of the car as I lifted the other and we were able to get the jack under. I then preceded to change the tire in a few minutes and we were on our way. My friend said X (the woman I'd been flirting with!) didn't take her eyes off me the rest of the drive home. I dropped her off first and she practically forced her phone number on me. That's what impresses people you might want to impress: doing things that aren't meant to impress them. You just have to prove you're a capable human being who can get shit done when that shit needs getting done. She probably thought, "Look at the way he took control of the situation! Look at how he lifted up that car's front end and changed the tire so smoothly and quickly! I bet he fucks!" I mean, she was wrong. I was terrible at fucking then! Really, really terrible! But that's a story I don't want to talk about! Even though it's a really short story. Team Titans #19 Rating:: C-. It got boring again! The final page of this comic book has a TV Guide mock-up for DC Comics if they were shows. Here are the actors the editors at DC thought should be playing their characters in 1994: Aquaman: Keifer Sutherland Atom: Michael Madsen Blue Beetle: Jason Patric Nightshade: Madeline Stowe Batman: Brad Pitt or Cary Elwes or Peter Horton Joker: Aidan Quinn Lobo: Bill Paxton Guy Gardner: Christian Slater Ice: Meg Ryan Hal Jordan: Dennis Quaid Sinestro: Raul Julia Kilowog: John Goodman Ganthet: Paul Williams Kyle Rayner: Andrew Shue

[torentialtribute]

Focus on race to the Premier League at top of the Championship

Another crucial weekend lies ahead in the Sky Bet Championship with those teams aiming for promotion Premier League entering the season's home straight.

Two of them meet at Elland Road on Friday night at Leeds United West Bromwich Albion in a meeting of third and fourth

On Saturday, the current leaders Norwich City face a demanding trip to Millwall, while play-off hopefuls Middlesbrough and Bristol City face trips to Wigan Athletic and Preston North End respectively.

And on Monday night, second-placed Sheffield United take on their bitter rivals Sheffield Wednesday at Hillsborough to round off the weekend

We focus in on what is proving a fascinating Championship promotion race.

     How the top half of the Sky Bet Championship is shaping up ahead of this weekend's games

1st NORWICH CITY

Played 34; Goal difference +24; Points 66

For a team that finished a lowly 14th last season and then two of their best players, James Maddison and Josh Murphy, depart for the Premier League in the summer, Norwich are enjoying an extraordinary season.

Their highly likeable German manager Daniel Farke has performed wonders in assembling a young and vibrant team on limited resources and they've been in […]

Farke unearthed an absolute gem in the Finnish striker Teemu Pukki, who was out of contract at Danish club Brondby has scored 24 goals this season.

     Ben Godfrey celebrates his goal in Norwich's crucial 3-2 win over Bristol City last weekend

This weekend

FRIDAY

Leeds United vs. West Brom (7.45pm)

Live on Sky Sports Main Event and Sky Sports Football

SATURDAY (all 3pm)

Aston Villa vs. Derby County

Brentford vs. Queens Park Rangers

Hull City vs. Birmingham City

Ipswich Town vs. Reading

Millwall vs. Norwich City

Preston North End vs. Bristol City

Rotherham United vs. Blackburn Rovers

Stoke City vs. Nottingham Forest

Swansea City vs. Bolton Wanderers

Wigan Athletic vs. Middlesbrough

MONDAY

Sheffield Wednesday vs. Sheffield United (7.45pm)

Live on Sky Sports Main Event and Sky Sports Football

And at 28, Pukki is one of the older members of a side-built youthful exuberance from either academy graduates or talents picked up cheaply in the European market.

Max Aarons (19 ), Ben Godfrey (21), Jamal Lewis (21), Todd Cantwell (21) and Emiliano Buendia (22) are all enjoying fine campaigns.

Crucially, Norwich have acquired the knack or scoring late goals to salvage precious points and their high-intensity approach has served them well on the road, where their tally of 31 goals is a division best.

They proved their promotion credentials once again last weekend with a 3-2 win over Bristol City and their fixture run-in from here is pretty child.

You should fully expect the Canaries to return to the Premier League for the first time since the 2015-16 campaign. The challenge is to stay there on a limited budget.

Promotion odds: 2/7

Remaining fixtures: Saturday – Millwall (A ); March 8 – Swansea City (H); March 13 – Hull City (H); March 16 – Rotherham United (A); March 30 – Middlesbrough (A); April 6 – Queens Park Rangers (H); April 10 – Reading (H); April 13 – Wigan Athletic (A); April 19 – Sheffield Wednesday (H); April 22 – Stoke City (A); April 27 – Blackburn Rovers (H); May 5 – Aston Villa (A)

     Norwich's charismatic German manager Daniel Farke celebrates their win over Bristol City

2nd SHEFFIELD UNITED

Played 34; Goal difference +25; Points 64

Having established themselves in the Championship top six with a 4-1 win over Aston Villa at the beginning of September, Sheffield United has not dropped out of the top six since.

Chris Wilder has molded a side that does not want anything – only Norwich and West have scored more – but also possesses a steely resoluteness at the back.

That enables them to get results such as last Saturday's 1-0 win over West Brom at The Hawthorns that took them back to their Yorkshire rivals.

The remainder of the season easy route into the Premier League with their March 16 meeting at Elland Road set to be crucial.

     Kieran Dowell (right) celebrates scoring his winning goal for Sheffield United at West Brom

Championship top scorers chart

23 – Teemu Pukki (Norwich)

22 – Billy Sharp (Sheffield United)

21 – Che Adams (Birmingham)

20 – Tammy Abraham (Aston Villa)

19 – Neal Maupay (Brentford)

17 – Jay Rodriguez (West Brom)

16 – Jarrod Bowen (Hull), Dwight Gayle (West Brom)

15 – Oliver McBurnie (Swansea), Lewis Grabban (Nottingham Forest)

14 – Kemar Roofe (Leeds United)

The Blades' lethal strike partnership between Billy Sharp, second only to Pukki in the Championship top scorers chart on 22 goals, and David McGoldrick has proved important.

The performances of Oliver Norwood and Mark Duffy in midfield, plus Enda Stevens at left-back, have helped replace David Brooks made the move to Bournemouth.

Ahead of Monday's crunch derby with Wednesday, a side who would like to find their promotion aspirations, Wilder's one finds themselves in excellent form.

Since tossing away a three-goal lead in the final eight minutes at Aston Villa on February 8 , United have beaten Middlesbrough, Reading and West Brom to underline their credentials.

March will tell us about whether they can stand the head, with meetings with Wednesday, Leeds and then Bristol City to come.

Promotion odds: 3/5

Remaining fixtures: Monday – Sheffield Wednesday (A); March 9 – Rotherham United (H); March 12 – Brentford (H); March 16 – Leeds United (A); March 30 – Bristol City (H); April 6 – Preston North End (A); April 10 – Birmingham City (A); April 13 – Millwall (H); April 19 – Nottingham Forest (H); April 22 – Hull City (A); April 27 – Ipswich Town (H); May 5 – Stoke City (A)

     Billy Sharp celebrates scoring in Sheffield United's 3-3 draw at Aston Villa last month

3rd LEEDS UNITED

Played 34; Goal difference +17; Points 64

Has another team managed by Marcelo Bielsa run out of steam

The man himself scoffed at the suggestion following Tuesday night's 1-0 loss at QPR, count the journalist who dared ask that 'your question does not have any basis … what you can say is this team has too much energy.'

But the facts, figures and form tell a different story. The setback at Loftus Road was their sixth defeat in 11 matches across all competitions since December 29.

Everyone knows that Bielsa is a hard taskmaster – the 'Spygate' scandal certainly uncovered his obsessive attention to detail – and in what is a high demanding league anyway, Leeds are certainly faltering at the wrong moment.

     Have Marcelo Bielsa's Leeds United run out of steam at the crucial moment of the season

The Argentine seems to be feeling the strains of a marathon campaign as well – he was photographed slum in the tunnel after the loss in west London, with the appearance of a man distinctly short of energy and solutions.

Yet nobody is about to write Leeds off, and neither should they. As the Yorkshire side chase a return to the Premier League after 15 years away, they're only two different on the top difference

Recent home wins on Swansea and Bolton have kept them up there but there now a lot riding on Friday night meeting with West Brom, […]

One of the issues is that Bielsa is without 14-goal leading scorer Kemar Roofe, who injured his knee in the Swansea game and will not be back anytime.

     Kemar Roofe has been instrumental for Leeds this season, scoring 14 goals in the league

Roofe is the only player in double figures for the season, but goals have nicely spread through the team. Pablo Hernandez and Mateusz Klich have supplied 18 assists between them.

On the other hand, win over the Friday night and all the recent troubles definitely forgotten. Stiff tests await the coming weeks though.

Promotion odds: 3/4

Remaining fixtures: Friday – West Bromwich Albion (H) ; March 9 – Bristol City (A); March 12 – Reading (A); March 16 – Sheffield United (H); March 30 – Millwall (H); April 6 – Birmingham City (A); April 9 – Preston North End (A); April 13 – Sheffield Wednesday (H); April 19 – Wigan Athletic (H); April 22 – Brentford (A); April 27 – Aston Villa (H); May 5 – Ipswich Town (A)

4th WEST BROMWICH ALBION

Played 34; Goal difference +43; Points 60

Having seen eight seasons of Premier League event come to an end last season, West Brom knew they'd be expected in and around the promotion race.

And having sensibly kept caretaker Darren Moore at the helm, they have achieved that,

Having been edged out by Sheffield United last Saturday, they face another stiff test of their credentials against Leeds on Friday and victory in the top two battle

Moore sets his Baggies side out to attack and there is no shortage of goals. They are the second highest scorers in the division with 67, coming from Jay Rodriguez and 16 from Dwight Gayle.

     West Brom celebrate a goal by Jay Rodriguez during their recent win at Aston Villa

Gayle arrived on loan from Newcastle United in exchange for Salomon his liking as he did during Newcastle's promotion campaign in 2016-17.

Harvey Barnes was enjoying such a successful season that Leicester recalled him from his loan, while Moore was able to get together much of their Premier League squad to good effect

They have registered some noteworthy results this year to underline their journey to the top-flight quickly – a they won 4-3 at Norwich in August, thrashed Leeds 4-1 in November and have won tricky games at Stoke, Villa and QPR in recent weeks.

     Jake Livermore celebrates scoring in the Baggies' recent 3-2 win at Queens Park Rangers

Indeed, winning on the road has become a strength – they have won eight of their last nine away from The Hawthorns, including the last four.

Their remaining fixtures after Leeds are pretty child and there's every chance the Baggies will bounce back to the Premier League immediately, either automatically or through the play-offs.

Promotion odds: 6/4

Remaining fixtures: Friday – Leeds United (A); March 9 – Ipswich Town (H); March 13 – Swansea City (H); March 16 – Brentford (A); March 29 – Birmingham City (H); April 6 – Millwall (A); April 9 – Bristol City (A); April 13 – Preston North End (H); April 19 – Hull City (H); April 22 – Reading (A); April 27 – Rotherham United (H); May 5 – Derby County (A)

5th MIDDLESBROUGH

Played 33; Goal difference +14; Points 57

Middlesbrough fans knew exactly what to expect from Tony Pulis side – not exactly the highest levels of entertainment but functional and effective football. And, crucially, a role to play in the promotion shake-up.

They're fifth at the moment, exactly the same as they have been finished last season before being narrowly beaten by Aston Villa in the semi-finals or the playoffs

Inevitably they have scored the number of goals (38) in the top six, but they also have the lowest number in the division 28. They also have the most clean sheets (15).

     Ashley Fletcher celebrates scoring in Middlesbrough's win over Queens Park Rangers

Mind you, there are only four legions in the league this season, so perhaps things are not as dull as the table suggests.

Which such economical but effective performances, Middlesbrough will almost certainly be in the play-offs as they aim to keep their Championship stay down to just the two seasons.

They have a six-point cushion to seventh ahead of Saturday's trip to Wigan and have won their last two matches, against QPR and Blackburn. They also still boast a game in hand on the four sides above them.

Goals have been thin on the ground but Britt Assombalonga has excelled with 12 this season – six of his last seven have come in demanding away fixtures well.

     Britt Assombalonga, who scored Middlesbrough's winner at Blackburn, is their leading scorer

But it's consistently rock solid displays from their back line – Aden Flint, Dael Fry, Daniel Ayala, George Friend and others – that is what they want back up again.

Promotion odds: 11 / 4

Remaining fixtures: Saturday – Wigan Athletic (A); March 9 – Brentford (H); March 13 – Preston North End (H); March 16 – Aston Villa (A); March 30 – Norwich City (H); April 2 – Bristol City (H); April 6 – Swansea City (A); April 9 – Bolton Wanderers (A); April 13 – Hull City (H); April 19 – Stoke City (H); April 22 – Nottingham Forest (A); April 27 – Reading (H); May 5 – Rotherham United (A)

6th BRISTOL CITY

Played 33; Goal difference +8; Points 53

Having established a reputation as a handy cup team with a number of notable Premier League scalps in the last couple of years, […] Bristol City have this season found the consistency to challenge

]

Led by Lee Johnson, one of the brightest young managers in the game, they are a team far more than the top of the world since 1980.

Thanks to investment by Bristol Sports owner Stephen Lansdown, their Ashton Gate stadium is a Premier league standard venue in all but name.

     Famara Diedhiou fires home in Bristol City's recent win over QPR

Having come agonizingly close to winning promotion in 2008, their time may well come now.

They put together an astonishing run of 13 unbeaten matches in the Championship between the end of November and the middle of February, making them the in-form team in Europe.

But back-to-back losses to Norwich and Birmingham this week have piled the pressure on ahead of Saturday's trip to Preston North End, one of the many teams coveting their current sixth place.

     Lee Johnson (right) is one of the most talented young managers in the English game

They're not a free-scoring team but are an effective unit, with established figures such as Marlon Pack, Callum O'Dowda, Jamie Paterson and others in what Johnson wants to achieve

March sees them play Leeds and Sheffield United, giving us big clues to go up.

Promotion odds: 17/2

Remaining fixtures: Saturday – Preston North End (A); March 9 – Leeds United (H); March 12 – Ipswich Town (H); March 30 – Sheffield United (A); April 2 – Middlesbrough (A); April 6 – Wigan Athletic (H); April 9 – West Bromwich Albion (H); April 13 – Aston Villa (A); April 19 – Reading (H); April 22 – Sheffield Wednesday (A); April 27 – Derby County (H); April 30 – Millwall (A); May 5 – Hull City (A)

HOT ON THEIR HEELS – THE OTHER PROMOTION CONTENDERS

Below Bristol City, there are perhaps another six clubs hoping to steal into the play-off places.

Frank Lampard's Derby County are just two points off Bristol but have not looked themselves in recent weeks with losses to Millwall and Nottingham Forest.

The Rams have an unfortunate reputation for slipping off the boil – and dropping out of the play-off race – just the wrong moment and history could be repeating.

     Frank Lampard's Derby County appear to have hit at just the wrong moment

Birmingham are enjoying their lives. win at Bristol City

They're on the same level with Nottingham Forest, who looks under the double act of Martin O'Neill and Roy Keane, and won Monday's East Midlands derby against Derby

Preston, Hull and Sheffield Wednesday are a trio or clubs bunched together on 47 points, but could still be a hit with a box of games remaining.

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