#for the record she fucked up and she ended it for that reason

[cuntressgoingdigital]

RUNAWAY | abby anderson x reader

free palestine! click this link for more info

synopsis: you and abby are in a mutually destructive situationship. after everything you put each other through, you both always find you way back to one another.

notes: gonna be sooo honest, this isn't going to be everyone's cup of tea and that's okay! heed the content warnings. this is a super angsty catharsis piece.

cw: 18+ content MDNI, reader referred to as a girl, alcohol ment., top! abby, mutually toxic relationship, no happy ending, honestly neither of y'all are good people

word count: 1k

all you could do was sigh when you read the text that popped up on your phone. 

can i see you tn?

it was 2AM, you and your friends were on the way back home from the club. you had texted abby hours ago. you always did this after drinking. not because your judgment was impaired, instead you wanted to be able to blame your actions on the alcohol. you would’ve texted her completely sober. you often did. 

“what are you staring at on your phone?” your friend tried to snap you out of it, but nothing would stop you. your friends learned to stop trying.

the text interaction was instigated by you, around 8PM, after one sip of a cocktail your friend had made for you. 

fuck you abby

who is this new girl? 

what happened to all the shit you said last week?

she had posted a picture with some pretty redhead on her arm, her face buried in the crook of abby’s neck. she always did this. she knew it would make you mad.

and you always took the bait. 

now it was 3AM, your friends had left you for the night, and abby was knocking on your door. you had sobered up in the last hour or so. your mind was clear. all of your actions were your own. 

immediately abby leaned in for an embrace, prompting you to practically leap back. 

“who the fuck is she?” there was an undeniable venom in your voice. you didn’t have time for pleasantries. 

abby moved past you, crossing the threshold into your apartment. “she’s one of manny’s exes. we’re still cool so me and nora had dinner with her. that’s it.” 

cue the inevitable repetitive screaming match that you two would end up in once every few weeks. the walls were thin and you knew your neighbors could hear. luckily, they minded their business. 

“abby it’s like you don’t give a fuck about my feelings! all week you're texting me ‘i miss you’, ‘you’re the only person who’s ever made me feel this way’. what happened to that?”

you couldn’t ever stay mad at her. you used the same playbook she did. after a couple weeks of not talking, a post on social media would lure her back in. an “accidental”

i had so much fun with you last night <3

that was immediately unsent. it was a song and dance that both of you were perpetually stuck in. after this long, it felt like you couldn’t leave the dancefloor now. 

for the record, abby wasn’t lying. it was just dinner. nothing else. it was clear the girl wanted her. hugging her for just a moment too long, getting a little too handsy when they went to the club together, the frequent requests for one on one hangouts. 

abby wasn’t anywhere near interested. 

she didn’t want any of the girls she would entertain for a week, sometimes a month (never longer). she couldn’t fuck them without thinking of you. without missing you. one too many times when a girl was between her legs she had accidentally uttered your name. 

that’s why every argument resulted in the pure bliss of hate filled make up sex. whoever was on the receiving end of the accusations would placate the other with ‘they dont mean anything’, ‘i just miss you so fucking much’, ‘i wanna be with you’. 

that night when you’re face down in the mattress, back arched, her strap buried impossibly deep inside you, you forget everything. the reasons you hate her. why you would never work. she takes you by the chin and pulls you up, back flush against her chest, fucking up into you while she whispered in your ear.

“fuck, you look so good like that. my pretty girl.”

you would always be her’s.

“such a fucking slut. only running back to me when you need to be fucked back into your place, yeah?” she hoped that wasn’t true. she wants to hear you say that it isn’t true.

“i love you, abby.” was all you could manage to say between thrusts.

abby starts thrusting with a fervor. her hands were gripping your hips so tight you feared they might bruise. she knows your body so well that she can tell when you’re about to cum. you’d dig your nails into her arms, gasping for air, whimpering her name. 

“i love you too, baby girl.” 

that was all it took for the floodgates to open. 

neither of you had lied. you both loved each other more than anything in the world. you said it during arguments, over dinner, at the end of a phone call, and most often during sex. 

if it came down to it, you would die for one another. 

the orgasm was so intense it brought tears to your eyes. abby could fuck you for hours, and she often did, especially when you were mad at her. tonight was one of those nights. by the time the sun had fully risen in the sky you were both sweaty, sore, and exhausted. 

you spent the next few weeks together. she had a key to your apartment that you hadn’t taken back after any of your fallouts. after work, you would find her at home, making your favorites for dinner. she came and went as she pleased, but you knew she’d be back. such was the nature of your relationship. 

when it’s good, it’s amazing. when it’s bad, it’s miserable. the good never lasted long. your record best was a little more than two months. then, one of you would get antsy, terrified of the ‘what are we?’ conversation. 

after being away from each other, the monotony of peace set in. one of you would find a way to snake back in. 

you were mutually destroying each other. you knew that. abby knew that. a happy ending wasn’t likely for either of you. 

but, that was okay. 

she was familiar. this was easier. you had to leave or live with it. 

and here you were, laying in her arms, pressing kisses against her chest and collarbones, while she whispered sweet nothings in your ear. 

[navramanan]

=D

[autisticaradiamegido]

day 169

this is it, the dynamic

[antiyourwokehomophobia2]

Man, it is JOEVER.

[sonknuxadow]

update to whatever is going on in my tomodachi life game : blaze and surge broke up #LOVELOSES . but everything is ok now because i gave surge a cheeseburger (it is her favorite food)

[reverie-starlight]

I think it's very very very very unfair for your grade in a class to be based on 3 tests only AND to have all three tests weigh the same.

the weight of the midterms should not be equal to the weight of the final exam ESPECIALLY when you don't give us opportunities to raise our grades or actually study the material properly outside of the slides and one million pages of reading you assign. istg I'm gonna drop this class!!!!!

[nomaishuttle]

sometimes you watch a show from anytime before like 2016 and its like woo this is awesome and then somethjng happens in it and youre likenog thus is from before 2016.

[kira-kui-n]

awesome whimsical ocean adventure <3

[mohntilyet]

imagine being illario and finally finding the resolve to kill your cousin right. you seduce and fuck a blood mage venatori magister to get her to do this for you. you figure you’ll eventually kill her once you are first talon, tie up the loose end and make it look good for you. a vengeance story! except when your cousin’s body shows up your grandma retreats into herself presumably out of grief and you’re like jesus christ he’s a corpse and still the favorite. at this point you start feeling some regret and at the wake you’re beside yourself. it helps to be really feeling some of that to fool everyone else. but months pass and your grandma still isn’t even discussing the inheritance and you have to be normal because you don’t want to incriminate yourself. and then a year later some random guy (worse if its a de riva tbh) shows up saying they need your cousin to kill an elven god (what.) and he’s the only one who could (insulting). and its at this point your grandma is like “lucanis died… but he is not dead!”. record scratch freezeframe. while you juggle with the fact that the freak woman you fucked specifically to get her to kill your cousin didn’t even kill your cousin AND your grandma didn’t bother telling you (for good reason ofc but she doesn’t know that), you have to lead these assholes to go save him and unravel your hard work. so plan b. you kidnap your grandma and push your (now possessed) cousin away (and then get mad when he actually walks away. because you’re like this). and when your cousin comes dangerously close to figuring out what’s happened with you and the magister, you kill the magister. you ally with those elven gods and venatori (you aren’t sure how you’re going to get out of this one but it’s fine. that’s a hill for future illario) to make sure you have enough backing to stand up against the other houses if they challenge you becoming first talon. you continue to gaslight your cousin into staying away, because if there is one thing you can count on, it’s his literal inner demons and total lack of a support group, you’re certain he’ll fuck it up by himself. you know this because his support group used to be your grandma (dubious) and yourself (lol). you’re almost home free. and caterina will definitely acknowledge you as a player on the board. which isn’t important but it would be nice, right. BUT THEN IT TURNS OUT. YOUR COUSIN HAS RECENTLY MADE 7 FRIENDS. one of whom can speak to the fucking dead because of course he can. and then some of those friends show up to publicly humiliate you at the dinner party that should have been YOUR crowning moment. your grandma ALSO shows up to tell everyone you have gathered that your cousin is first talon. your cousin gapes at her because he doesn’t actually even want it so it’s kind of awkward for everyone. and then when you’re sure he’s about to ask viago de riva to poison you to death, he actually tells him just to take you away. because OF COURSE he’s being the bigger person. anyways the point is i’m surprised illario just lets himself be taken away because if i were him i would have started biting people and then bombed the villa

[morphids]

break up with your boyfriend, ellie williams

pairing: bestfriend!ellie x afab, curly haired,bi!reader (college au)

chapter: one shot (8k words whoops my finger slipped got my asd diagnosis today lol ig that explains that) proofread but if there's errors idk what to tell u

warnings: explicit sexual content, 18+ so minors dni, subish!ellie, loserlesbian ellie, poc friendly!! drug mentions, marijuana usage, friends to lovers, angst?? ellie gets her coochie ate, so does reader, fingering, ✂️✂️, all that good stuff, they essentially worship each other, cheating (not by reader but sus behaviours n thoughts fs) (tw::: men bf’s a dickspawn imsorry) homophobia.

summary: you have a horrible boyfriend, ellie’s always hated him. 

a/n: full word vomit im sorry if its ass but also i kinda lost my composure writing this 🤭🫣😵‍💫

AS ALWAYS FUCK DRUCKMANN AND ALL ZIONISTS, resources for Palestine and the daily click linked on my pinned post!

**

You were tired, drained. Hours had passed and you and your boyfriend were still at it. Angry words and misunderstood sentences all throughout the day had resulted in yet another fight between you.

"Dean, I've said it so many times, I can't go through it again,"

Dean, your boyfriend of a few months had a rocky track record, from keeping in close contact with his ex, to not telling interested girls that he's not single. The situation was always the same, you'd express your discomfort with something and he'd get angry, defensive. Then, eventually after so much arguing would get you to 'realise' that it's no big deal, that you shouldn't have reacted that way at all and in fact, you should apologise to him for making him feel like a cheater.

You had considered breaking up with him, so many times, in fact. Yet, you simply couldn't bring yourself to do it, still holding out with hope that things will improve.

"Baby, I swear nothing is going on, she's just my friend."

"Fine, okay." You ceased, feeling mentally drained by hours of conflict, "I have to go, need to meet Ellie, we have that test soon."

"You're leaving?" Dean said, clearly still agitated and pumping from the fight,

"Yes, Dean," you sighed, glancing in the mirror to double-check that your makeup hadn't been ruined from the previous crying, "I told you, this exam is really important," In other words, you have more things to be worrying about than your issues with him.

Gathering your books and piling them into your tote bag, you felt Dean's eyes on you, silently steaming as he saw you pick up your books.

"I'll see you later," Without looking back, you grabbed your keys from the side of the door and headed out.

He always had a problem with Ellie, which you couldn't understand, she was always supportive and kind to you. What reason would he have to dislike her?

You had been friends ever since that first physics class three years ago, you had sat in the row in front of her, over fifteen minutes into the lecture had passed until you felt a tap at your shoulder. Turning, you were greeted with green eyes and a smiling face adorned with light freckles.

"Hey, you got a spare pen?" She looked bashful, almost embarrassed that she hadn't been prepared even for the first class of the year. A half smile was placed on her lips. Amused, you gladly handed her a pen, pleased that you had an abundance of pens neglected at the bottom of your tote bag. You were always prepared, just not the most organised.

At the end of the lecture, she tried to hand you back the pen, but you refused and insisted she kept it, was she planning on asking someone for every class she had? That was just inefficient.

When you wouldn't accept the pen back, she ripped out a rough square from a page of her notebook, scribbling her number quickly so she could pay you back for the pen. 

You had been friends ever since, there was something that just worked. She had been there long before Dean and you would be damned if he was to get in the way of your friendship.

You had reached Dina and Ellie's place, they both shared the accommodation whilst you lived in a one-bed en-suite in a dorm. Dean lived at his fraternity, which you always hated going to meaning you spent most of the time at your place instead. 

Knocking, you only waited for a few seconds until the door swung open, revealing Ellie, clad in a white tank top and some grey sweatpants. The open door had caused a draught to haze through the air, the faint scent of smoke and music softly playing at a low volume.

"Hey, you." She spoke, smiling that usual smile that was seemingly tattooed on her lips. Ellie moved out of the doorway to let you in, closing the door behind you as you stepped into the familiar, comforting living room.

"Hey," your tone must have not been well received, as it prompted a,

"Well, what's gotten into you?"

"I've had the worst day, Dean-" you were interrupted by a slightly exaggerated groan, with an added,

"What has he done this time?"

"Ellie.." you sighed, dropping your tote from your shoulder and to the floor, kneeling down to pull out your books and pens.

"I'm serious," she threw her hands up, leaning against the edge of the desk where her work had been all set out already, "He's always up to some bullshit."

Ellie was confused, annoyed actually as you explained the situation to her. In her head, as a lesbian, the solution to these kinds of issues was so, so obvious to her; break up with him, he's not worth it. She had repeated this rhetoric to many of her men-loving friends, all of which refused to listen to her only to turn out heartbroken in the end, anyway.

"I wasn't exactly being rational either," you tried to explain, not that you were making excuses for him, but you felt a certain need to defend your relationship with Ellie. She was always so judgemental of the people you dated. You knew deep down that it was her way of looking out for you, she had consistently been the one to bring you comfort during your relationship breakdowns. And there had been a few of them.

"Don't do that, that's exactly what he wants," She spoke sympathetically, her words very soft considering that, mentally she was currently fighting Dean, and winning.

What was wrong with these guys? Ellie thought, you had dated some specimens before, but this new fraternity bro, Dean? She couldn't stand him.

Seemingly fuelled by his returned distaste towards her, but she knew the real reason why.

He was a pig. Flirting with any girl that'd give him attention, Ellie had caught him at parties with drunk girls hanging off his arms, inches away from their faces, centimetres away from cheating. Only for him to charm his way out of it when you confronted him. It pained her to see you go through this, especially when there were so many options out there. Like her, for example.

To be frank, Ellie's asking for that pen three years ago hadn't been entirely innocent. Whilst, it wasn't a lie per se, as she did, in fact, not have a pen on her first day, making her feel like the worst student on the planet.

She had taken notice of you when you first walked into that physics class. Eyeliner, framing the outer corners of your eyes and tight curly hair that lay perfectly around your face caught her attention. You were so beautiful, she knew she had to talk to you.

As you two had gotten to know each other over those first few months, her little crush had evolved from simple attraction to a full-blown, 'would rip the sun out of the sky if it meant seeing you smile', feelings situation. Whilst her initial intention had been to try and flirt a little bit, over time (really didn't take that long) Ellie realised that you were something special. The bond and groove you had as platonic friends was too great to risk ruining it all. So she decided, her feelings shouldn't be the thing to damage it. Ellie being Ellie, didn't know how to deal with said feelings, so she had made a pact with herself to never act on them, never expect anything other than platonic behaviour on your part, and never, ever let you find out. So whilst you dated, so did she.

"Anyways, can we talk about, literally anything else now? Like our exam that we have in a few days, perhaps?" You hummed, kicking your shoes off and sprawling on her couch, reaching down into your bag for something you had saved for this exact moment.

"Right, 'cos studying is the reason why you're laying dead on my couch right now." Ellie chuckled, joining you and holding your legs up to settle her body on the couch as well, before placing your legs on top of her lap.

"What are you even looking for?"

"Just wait, you'll see." You responded, still rooting through the bag, god where is it?

"Well, not if you can't find it in that damn bag, how do you even find anything in those?"

"Shut up," you chuckled, feeling better already. That's something you loved about Ellie, no matter what would happen to you, a few minutes with her and you'd feel like you had taken uppers.

"Ah, finally," you breathed out, fishing out a single joint that had become embarrassingly bent in the trauma that is, being an object lost inside the bottom of a tote bag.

Ellie laughed when her eyes caught sight of the bent joint, rubbing her eyes as they started to tear from the entertainment.

"You didn't have to go through that much effort to pull out that monster, plus you know I always have enough here, we don't need to smoke yours."

"It may look unfortunate, but this is the best shit in town right now." You tried to sell, "Got it from Xav,"

"Xav? How did you manage that?"

"One of Dean's frat brothers put in a huge order with him and sold me some, thought I'd save it so we could smoke it together." 

"You truly know the way to my heart," Ellie gushed, before leaning over your legs, to grab the closest ashtray and a lighter, passing it to you, roller's rights, after all.

"This doesn't look like studying, though," Ellie spoke, eyes falling to your lips as they wrapped over the end of the joint, sparking and taking a drag. She excused her thoughts.

"I just want some peace before I have to focus on work, you know?" You said, exhaling out the smoke.

Ellie sighed, knowing Dean was truly taking a toll on you, she watched as your face fell, obviously being reminded of the previous events. She wishes there was more she could do, how many times could she say leave him, before it sounded too obvious? Too pushy? Too out of line?

"Fuck him, don't worry about that for now. You're with me, this is a Dean-free zone." Ellie cheered, taking the lit joint as you passed it to her.

You felt her fingers trail random lines and shapes on your leg as she smoked, probably not even aware she was doing it. It was comfortable and set off a wave of sleepiness to hit you.

Ellie passed you the joint back,

"You going to that party tonight?" She asked,

"I don't know, I think Dean wants to go but I was planning on sitting this one out,"

"Why don't you come? Dina and Jesse will also be there, so you don't have to spend the whole party with him,"

"Fine, only because I haven't seen Dina and Jesse for a while,"

"I can live with that," she chuckled.

Deciding you were no longer comfy in that position, you lifted your legs up off Ellie, before manoeuvring your body so that you were sat side by side. Passing the joint back to her, you rested your head on her shoulder. What you didn't notice was Ellie's visible tensing the second you laid your head on her.

It wasn't like it was unusual behaviour from you, yet she reacted like this every time. 

"What do you think of it?"

"Fuck yeah, it's good," she swallowed, head turning to glance over at you resting your head comfortably on her shoulder, "You falling asleep down there?"

"No..." you mumbled, your voice visibly getting quieter as you were getting sleepier. You were just so tired. Constant arguing with Dean, working or studying. You needed a break, plus Ellie had a habit of being super comfortable to nap on.

"You sure?"

"No..."

"It's alright, have a nap, we’ll study later."

Ellie chuckled, she continued smoking the joint to its ends, relaxed by the sound of your breathing as you fell asleep. She took the opportunity to observe you for a minute, you looked peaceful, a hell of a lot more peaceful than you were when you first entered. She wished that you could always be that content, at peace. Ellie wanted you to be happy, whether with her or not, she just didn't want you so stressed and drained by yet another unhealthy relationship.  

It was then she took time to think, how messy the situation had truly become.

—

After your nap, you and Ellie actually did finally study, spending a few hours going over the course material and sharing notes. With a few distractions here and there, but successful nonetheless.

You were back at home, Dean seemingly long gone back to his own place, as you got yourself dressed for this party. Texting Ellie that you were ready, you awaited her knock on your door, as your place was a bit closer to the party you decided you'd make your way there together and you'd crash back at your house later.

Once she arrived, you two made your way to the party, it was in the next block of student accommodation, so it was only a quick walk.

Before long, you had reached the party, greeted by its loudness with thumping music and loud chatter.

"It's fucking packed," you complained, already nervous. The bass of the loud music echoing in your chest, exacerbating the anxiety you felt.  

"It will be okay, let's go find Dina and Jesse,"

It took a few glances to land on them but they had been settled in a corner with two other girls. One with short black hair and the other with long, blonde hair.

Making your way towards them, Dina spotted you and Ellie and eagerly waved you guys over to their spot.

"Bitch! Where have you been?" Dina questioned, and truly it had been an unreasonable amount of time since you'd seen her, which is weird considering how often you were at her and Ellie's place.

"Don't get me started," you sighed, whilst smiling at her and wrapping your arms around her.

"Well, it's good to see you, we missed you!" Gesturing towards herself and Jesse, who took his cue to also greet you.

Dina introduced you to her friends who were also sitting with them, the one with black hair was introduced as Cat, and the blonde was called Abby.

They were nice but you weren't too sure about the dark-haired one, she seemed a bit standoffish to you, only, but welcoming and friendly to everyone else in your group, and especially to Ellie. You noted it and placed the thought at the back of your head for dissection later.

In the ten minutes you had been there, Dean had spotted you and walked over. Causing an eye roll to come from Ellie,

"Hey, you're here!" He was drunk, words slurred and eyes heavily lidded. How much had he already had to drink?

Wrapping his arms around your waist, and nuzzling his face into your neck, the scent of alcohol lingered on him and you found that you didn't want him to be that close to you.

Your eyes met Ellie's briefly before she quickly looked away and took a long sip from her cup, which had been filled up with some vodka and whiskey mixed with some chaser by Dina. She turned her head away from you and began talking to Cat, faces a lot closer than most people. 

You tore your eyes away from their interaction, turning to face Dean.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Dean shrugged, too incapacitated to care too much before making his way back to some of his frat brothers. Yuck.

You were making your way to the bathroom, hoping to find the right door, but you weren't successful the first time, the second or the third. You were starting to wonder how many goddamn rooms were in this place until you finally reached it, and it was of course labelled with a stupid little diy frat sticker that said 'bathroom' featuring other, more immature graffiti. Apt, you thought.

The light was on but the door was slightly ajar, thinking nothing of it you walked in believing it to be empty. The room was also, of course, occupied. You mentally laughed at your own bad luck as you saw Abby sneaking a cigarette out the window. Her body perched up on the windowsill as she breathed the smoke out the open gap.

"Shit- oh it's just you," she chuckled, holding her hand on her heart indicating that you had slightly frightened her, clearly from her doing something she isn't supposed to be doing.

"Sorry, thought it was empty," you said, turning your body towards the door in an effort to leave her to it,

"You don't have to leave I'm just smoking this before any of my team sees me,"

That brought a smile to reach your lips,

"Why are you sneaking cigarettes like a 16 year old?"

"Athletes aren't really meant to smoke, but shit happens. I just don't want to hear it from coach." She mumbled taking her final drag, throwing the butt out the window.

"I'll take it to my grave," You promised, making a little zip motion on your lips.

"All yours," she smiled, making her way out of the bathroom.

"I won't take long, we can head down to the group together,"

So you did, exiting the bathroom, Abby smiling at you,

"Let's go?"

"Sure,"

You had travelled down the stairs, engaging in random, friendly small talk until you had reached everyone. Abby sat back down next to Dina and Jesse, who were ranting amongst themselves, whilst Cat and Ellie had been left to their own devices. Now, you and Ellie had been friends for a while, you kinda knew what she looked like when she was flirting with girls. And this was definitely that. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by Dean respawning in your face again,

"Wanna explain that?"

That completely broke you out of your little trance, explain what?

"What?"

"Why were you in the bathroom with her?"

"She was-" you remembered your promise to her, "We were just chatting, nothing weird happened, if that's what you're thinking."

He grabbed your wrist and walked with you to a quieter corner of the room,

"Why are you lying?"

"Dean, nothing happened we were chatting because she was in there when I walked in,"

"Do you know what she is?"

"I just met her today, Dean," You didn't want to deal with this right now, Ellie had said she was going to try and help you escape Dean tonight and instead she got annoyed by his presence and began flirting with Cat.

"What is with you and hanging out with all of those d-...", he trailed off,

"Those what, Dean?" You were beyond angry at this point, you didn't like what he was implying.

"You know, all those le-"

"Hey," your altercation was interrupted, "Everything cool?" Ellie was looking between you both, eyebrows furrowed as she looked you over, gauging the situation. She knew you could fight your own battles, but when a drunk man is getting too handsy on someone it's always good practice to remain vigilant.

"We're fine." He said, his words less slurred now, a bit more pissed off. Egged on by the fact that his very point had just interrupted him.

"Oh yeah?" She pressed, making sure to look at you when she asked, having watched the interaction since he dragged you away.

"Yeah, I'm okay," you added, trying to give her a grateful look with your eyes, whether she got the message or not wasn't confirmed. Ellie wasn't one to let things go, but then she asked you if you wanted to be left alone with him and when you simply said 'Yeah I can deal with this," there was nothing more she could do without being too out of line. 

Sighing to herself, she dragged her feet back to the group, silently warring with herself over her actions, wondering if she put her nose in someone else's business or whether she didn't act enough. She had decided that was enough for the night, she'd try and focus on something else.

Whilst you were frustrated; you didn't want to explain the situation to her yet, at this point.

"Dean I don't like what you're trying to say, I don't want to be near you right now, we can talk about this at home."

"Sure, whatever." He walked off. You exhaled a sigh that had been festering in your chest for a while.

Wandering back to Dina, Jesse and Abby, noticing a considerable lack of Ellie and Cat. But at least you could clear your mind, Dina offered you another drink- which you gladly took.

You were in conversations with your friends, a good amount of minutes had passed and you finally caught sight of Ellie. You felt your heart twitch, your stomach churning at the sight.

Ellie was engaged in some heated make-out with that Cat, her hands tightly wrapped around the back of the girl's neck. The lights of the room bounced off her skin, illuminating them in deep reds and blues, as their lips moved against each other. It was hot, you couldn't lie. Perhaps the alcohol had hit you a lot more than you thought. You had seen Ellie in action, but not in action.

You felt yourself start to stare, lost in the sight of Ellie until you felt your breathing start to quicken and your legs fidgeting. You had to pull your eyes away, shaming yourself in your head for even looking that long, like a damned pervert.

Taking another sip of your drink, your thoughts trailed, you wondered what it would feel like to be in Cat's position, to feel Ellie's passionate grasp and soft lips against yours. You wondered if her kisses would feel loving and warm, not cold like you were used to.

You quickly dismissed your thoughts, blaming it on the alcohol, wondering what was spurring this on, all of a sudden.

You soon decided it was probably time to head home, the party had lived its course and you were in a worse mood than when you first got there. Mission failed, indeed.

Saying your goodbyes to Dina, Jesse and Abby you made your way through the dance floor to Ellie.

"Hey, I'm gonna head out," You interrupted a conversation occurring between Ellie and Cat.

"Oh, you sure?" She glanced between you and Cat, "Will you be okay getting home?" She asked.

"Yeah, I'm gonna find Dean and we're gonna go,"

"Oh," her face soured, "You're really still going home with that guy?"

"Well..." you stilled, you didn't exactly want to, but you knew he wouldn't give up until he got to say his piece, regardless of where you were, "We have stuff to talk about, I guess." Your voice and tone sound beaten, tired.

"I see," She glanced you over, hesitant, as if she was about to say something but then changed her mind. You could almost see thoughts flying in her eyes. 

"See you later," Cat smiled at you, though it didn't quite reach the corners of her eyes, no crease of skin. Everything seemed polite on the surface, but there were weird undertones in her voice, indifference. The vibe of that was definitely weird, right?

"Yeah,"

With that, you found Dean and left to go home.

—

Panting, you were panting. Heavy breaths mixed with sloppy touches in the darkness of red and blue lights.

You pulled away, glancing at Ellie, the corners of her plump lips curling into a smirk as she caressed your thighs. Fingers teasing near your entrance, you were completely ready for her touch, dripping, waiting.

"I can't wait to taste you, baby." she spoke, her words soft but with a hint of a growl that excited you, eager for what was about to come.

Then your eyes split open, and you were lay on your bed, hours had passed and you had been fast asleep. Sleep came easy, induced by the alcohol you had consumed, as you realised you had just been dreaming.

It took you a few seconds to stir and become conscious of what you had been dreaming about. Then the shame hit. What the fuck was that?

It didn't last long though, before you heard Dean's voice,

"That was hot,"

You slightly jumped at the surprise of his voice, not expecting him to have been awake and especially aware that you were having a dream of such nature, about your best friend of all people.

"You got me all hard, babe." You suddenly felt too overwhelmed, flashes of Ellie's lips and fingers cursed your mind as Dean's voice was mixed into your thoughts.

Confusion and panic hit your senses, you didn't want to look at Dean's expecting face when your mind was still reeling with the faint remnants of being under Ellie's warm and comforting touch, even in the astral plane, your body still warm and wanting. But not for him. Disgust overwhelmed your veins, poisoning the air in your lungs as you realised you couldn't think of anything worse than him touching you. It was as if that dream had been a message, a sign that this wasn't what you wanted. Or deserved. A sudden unexpected epiphany.

You quickly shot up and ran to the bathroom, no words spoken between you as you closed the door. Ensuring space between you both.

You sighed and grabbed at the roots of your hair, thinking of how utterly fucked this is.

You thought back to Ellie, would she be disgusted at your thoughts? Would she feel weird and uncomfortable if she knew you had been thinking of her that way? Her best, and very platonic, friend. She definitely isn't interested, you thought, remembering the way she had grabbed Cat closer to her and embraced her in a kiss that could only enflame your very being. Jealous. You realised, that's what that feeling was. It seemed to occur a lot regarding Ellie, that feeling.

Dean's voice blared through the door, reverberating through the walls.

"It's about that blond bitch isn't it?" Your eyebrows pulled together, fucks sake.

"Dean, please." It was stupid o'clock in the morning, the last thing you wanted was yet another argument.

"I knew those fucking lesbians would fuck with your head, you've always been a stupid woman, following whoever gives you attention."

His words hurt, and doubly pissed you off. How dare he? Those were your friends he was talking about.

You opened the door, Dean all blotchy and red in the face, fuelled by the past months of his bullshit and borderline abuse, this was the final nail. He was not about to say disgusting things and expect no repercussions. Lifting your hand, you put your entire back into connecting your palm with his cheek, made real by the smacking sound of skin, loud as a gunshot in the dark hours of the night contrasting the silence of no other surrounding sound in the dorms.

"Fuck you, Dean. I'm over this, get out." You stared him right in the eye as he rubbed the throbbing skin of his cheek to alleviate some pain. You couldn't help but feel a hint of relief that it had actually hurt him, as horrid as that sounds. You weren't a violent person, by any means, yet the continuous accusations, the newly exposed homophobia, his vile behaviour - it had to be done. You were done letting him treat you like that.

"I don't need you anyway, can find ten other girls that'd give me what I want."

"Go do that, then." You huffed, wondering why you hadn't done this earlier.

"Already have, sweetheart." He smirked, eyes glinting as he finally lifted the shroud of lies he had been filling your head with. You always knew deep down, you just chose to ignore it. Worms in the brain feasting at any rational thought and your self-respect. You didn't find it in yourself to get angrier.

"Get out of my house, Dean." You finalised, arms crossed over your chest, you just hoped he'd go willingly.

"You're not worth it, anyway." He cements, body turning to put on his shoes, chuckling as his heavy presence finally leaves your door.

You let out a breath, relief, shame and anger seeping into the deepest part of your being.

You were glad he's gone, truly. You just wish you had killed it sooner. Ellie was right, he ain't shit.

You sat on the edge of your bed, suddenly finding that the dark, empty space in your room was doing you no favours.

Pulling out your phone, you drafted a text to Ellie,

3.47 a.m:  you awake?

It was a long shot, you almost gave up on a response for tonight until you felt your phone buzz.

3.49 a.m:  ..always

3.49 a.m:  whats up?

Your lips tilted into a weak smile, before responding,

3.50 a.m:  u should be sleeping rn!

3.50 a.m:  umm so should u

3.51 a.m:  whats wrong?

Sighing, you had to bite the bullet, already started it now.

3.52 a.m:  he's an asshole, i broke up with him

A few minutes passed, and you wondered what was taking so long even though in the grand scheme of time it was only a few seconds, really. It was just anticipation, time felt dragged out awaiting her response. You didn't know that Ellie was laying on her bed feverishly typing, deleting and re-typing, overthinking how to respond. She wanted to say, 'I knew this' and how she was happy he was gone because he was a loser who didn't deserve you anyway. How she never liked him. Ellie didn't want to be insensitive, though, lest she hurt your feelings further. 

3.57 a.m: how are you feeling?

3.58 a.m:  im just glad he's gone tbh

3.58 a.m: had to be done

Ellie couldn't help the hint of a smile that fought its way onto her features, she typed her response. Picking at the dry skin around her thumb with her teeth as she sent her next message, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

3.59 a.m: he didn't deserve you anyway, you're too good for that.

You felt a warmth rush through you, stomach tightening as you read into her words. You wished that she meant it, that her feelings matched yours. Your mind thinks back to Cat, instantly murdering any hope in your heart.

You don't remember when your feelings for Ellie began to change, but looking back on it, you had felt so unsatisfied, seldom comfortable with your past lovers. Ellie was the only person who knew you, truly. Who had loved you and made you feel so safe, her comforting presence always soothing you, you felt like a person around Ellie. Whole. It had just taken some time for life to knock some sense into you to realise. It has always been Ellie. 

4.01 a.m: want me to come to you or you wanna come here?

4.01 a.m: it's so late you don't have to! i'll be ok promise

4.02 a.m: hah good one.. gimme ten mins

Ellie was not messing, not much time passed before she was knocking on the front door of your dorm. 

"Hey," Her voice was soft, gentle, her eyes shining with such a tender glint. She's always had such pretty eyes, you thought. 

"Hi,"

You moved a few steps to give her space to enter,

"How you doing?" She wrapped her arms around you, holding you tighter than you expected,

"Honestly, I'm okay," Ellie took a look at you, gauging your overall mood and believed it, you already looked lighter, less weight (*Dean) holding down your shoulders. 

"Think I mentally checked out a long time ago," you added, sitting down on your bed and lifting your laptop screen to load a show, acting somewhat as a buffer amongst the silence.

"So what happened?"

You couldn't help the audible groan that escaped your lips, "He got pissy when he saw me leaving the bathroom with Abby and accused me of cheating,"

"Abby?" Ellie had taken off her coat and shoes, joining you on your spot on the bed.

"Yeah, she was smoking in the bathroom hiding from their coach, we walked down to the group together, it was only small talk. I was so confused, he started saying things about who I was hanging out with,".

"Meaning?"

"He's a fucking homophobic prick,"

"He said hanging out with 'all those lesbians was fucking with my head', said I follow whoever gives me attention," you sighed, "then I slapped him."

Ellie couldn’t help it, she felt a swell of pride that you slapped him, stood up for yourself. He deserved so much worse, she thought.

Ellie couldn't hide the smirk that reached her lips, as much as she tried to suppress it, it still came.

"That's my girl,"

You didn't expect your stomach to twist when those words left her mouth, opening something up deep inside.

"He finally admitted to cheating, and then it was over," You sighed.

"I'm proud of you," Ellie muttered, fidgeting with her nail-beds, failing to meet your eyes.

"You don't have to say that, I know how pathetic this is,"

Resting your head on the headboard, you brought your legs into a cross,

"Hey, I mean it, it must've been a lot," She paused, her hand coming to rest on your knee, rubbing her thumb over the skin absentmindedly, like it was second nature to her. Perhaps, it was.

You looked over at her, eyes trailing down her features, freckles and the green eyes that still weren't meeting yours, suddenly shy.

"You're amazing, you deserve to know that," she paused, eyes finally meeting your own, determined.

"So are you," Your voice lowered, trailing back to the pretty brunette from earlier.

“So what’s going on with you and that girl?” You shouldn’t have said anything, but it was out before you could stop it. Clearly, your brain kept thinking about it.

“It’s..” Ellie thought about what to say, it would sound extremely horrible to say Cat was mainly a distraction, unfair as she is a lovely person, but it’s true.

“Nothing more than what you saw,”

Vague, was that best response to that, Ellie thought.

“I saw quite a bit,”

“Honestly, she’s great, we get along and all but..�� She’s not you. “I don’t think it’ll go any further.”

“She seemed to really like you, why not?”

Ellie almost wanted to laugh, it was so painfully obvious to her, how could you not see it?

“I guess.. I want something different.”

Her eyes connected with yours, the contact between your eyes felt different now, charged. You caught yourself stealing a glance at her lips, which slightly parted as she spotted where your eyes had fallen.

“Like what?”

She had no response, it was either avoid the question, or firm it. Ellie didn’t know which was the right answer.

"Ellie.." You paused, words caught in your throat, as scenarios rushed through your head like a rolodex of different possible outcomes. Heart tugging at your brain to do something, anything.

"Yeah?" Her head leaned closer to yours, your breathing slowly becoming heavier, the room's environment growing thicker, harder to inhale. Her hand still on your knee, unmoving now, frozen in place.

You could almost make contact with her lips, if you moved just a tiny inch closer. Her hand trailed slightly further up your leg, just a little above your knee, almost as if to test the waters. You wondered if she felt like you did, if she could also feel her veins light up and her body inflamed. Were her lips just as eager to touch yours? Were her hands longing to feel you just as well?

Before you realised, it was out.

"Ellie, can I kiss you?"

A beat, and no response. You felt your heart start to panic, already thinking over how to pretend that had never happened. You almost regretted it, until her hand reached for the back of your neck, reducing the distance between your faces.

Lips meeting yours, shyly at first, hesitant. Ellie’s mind was whirling, feeling her heartbeat pump aggressively throughout her body, there was no way this was reality, she thought. No way that you were here in front of her, asking to kiss her, after all this time of her yearning, feeling like a useless lesbian who would never ever make a move on you.

She could almost feel herself kicking her feet in the air, as she decided to firm it. Scared if she waited any longer, the opportunity would cease to exist, pass her by and join one of those regrets she’d think about as an elder.

Your lips met hers back, eager to push for contact, eager to push closer. Your zeal spurring hers on, as her hands clasped the back of your neck, keeping you in place. Not like you wanted to be anywhere else.

This was it. This is what you should’ve been feeling in the past.

Ellie’s soft, plump lips melted over yours, taunting with a bite and pulling your bottom lip out before entering her tongue into your mouth.

Fuck. That was hot.

You felt yourself getting hotter, damper by the minute as the kiss continues, Ellie’s hand getting more comfortable and trailing down to your thighs.

You pulled apart for a second, taking the time to catch your breath as you looked into her eyes, usually green but now much darker, enhanced by enlarged pupils as she glazed her sights over you. An unreadable expression on her face,

“Are you okay?”

“You’re so hot, and amazing and I-I really want to keep going, I just- I don’t know, I don’t want this to be like a .. rebound thing. I really care about you but I just, don’t want to feel like that, you know?” She rambled on, her thoughts getting ahead of themselves as she was pondering if it happened, then if it was too late to return to what you had been, before things got all naked and messy.

You understood, of course you did. You had literally broken up with him just maybe two hours ago. But it didn’t matter, you had to say it. Let her know and reassure her that it was only her.

“Ellie.. you could never be a rebound to me,” You stammered a little before the next part, “You’re the one I’ve wanted this whole time. It’s always been you.” You pecked her lips, grabbing her face, looking into her eyes hoping she’d see the seriousness in yours.

“I’ve wanted you for a really long time,” she broke contact, “I just didn’t wanna fuck shit up,”

“I mean it, Ellie, I’ve never felt as certain about something as I do this,”

Her stature relaxed, you continued, “I love you, Ellie. I didn’t love anyone else,”

“I love you,” she answered, the corner of her lip tilting up, eyes brighter.

“I’ll just have to show you how much, if that’s okay with you.”

Her gaze turned curious, before nodding, watching as your hands danced down her sides and ever so slightly underneath the fabric of her shirt.

“You can do whatever you want with me, honestly,” she murmured. You caught her body tensing, almost shaky as you lifted her shirt. Warm hands covering the sides of her defined stomach, you squeezed a little, just enough to rile her up.

Which it did, Ellie’s eyebrows furrowed as she anticipated your next move. Losing control of her lungs, she was about to explode.

“This okay?” Your hand met the band of her sports bra, digging scarcely into her skin beneath it.

“Yeah,” she exhaled, stuck in place, watching, her cheeks becoming flushed, “Shit,”

You hands pressed over her breasts, tightening pressure around as she let out a content sigh. You dipped your head down to wrap your lips around her nipple, licking laps over the tip and softly blowing air over them when you decided you were done, chuckling to yourself at the goosebumps that now raised on her skin,

“Don’t tease,” She murmured, composure dwindling.

“Sorry, can’t help myself,”

You kissed down her stomach to her pelvis, feeling her restlessness grow as her body refused to stay still, itching for you to do more.

You leaned back up, placing either leg over her torso and looked her over, making sure she was okay as your hand moved lower down, seemingly in a mind of its own as it crept past the waistband, meeting her skin as you held eye contact.

Ellie folded, shutting her eyes as the waiting became too much, you tapped her leg with your free hand,

“Eyes on me,”

When she held your eye contact once again, you teased a finger past her folds, almost letting out a groan at how wet she was, at how easily you could feel her arousal.

“Fuck Els,” you sighed, struggling to contain yourself as your thoughts grew more indecent, slipping a finger in further as Ellie writhed underneath you, head hanging back.

“More fingers, please,” Her voice was strained, breathy as she closed her eyes, embarrassed to be feeling this undone already.

“Yeah?” The side of your mouth curled up, goaded by the sound of her voice. She nodded impishly, covering her eyes with her wrist, as her other hand reached to grip around your hip. A tight squeeze followed on your skin.

“I can do that, baby,” Following instructions, you slipped two more fingers into her, falling into a rhythm as you felt her clench around you. She glanced over your body, legs spread over her midsection as you leaned your arm back, hips gently grinding over hers- an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure building up.

Her hand grabbed at the hem of your shirt, pulling it slightly and groaning when the tight material pushed against your breasts, she always loved how you never wore bras, stiff nipples poking through the fabric.

“Fuck, clothes off, now,” she let out in soft grunts, as she broke your wrist from her to take off your shirt, rubbing her hands over your newly exposed skin “Always fucking wanted to see you like this,” She spoke, your fingers meeting her centre again, “So fucking pretty,”

“You feel so good, Ellie,” You gasped, your hips involuntarily grinding on top of her stomach, “So fucking good ‘n wet for me,”

“Fuck-“ Ellie’s voice cut off as she bit into the back of her hand, her own hips rolling your hand in deeper, hitting her walls more than before as she let out a mewl. “Feels so fuckin’ good, angel,” she whimpered, voice strained as she continued to ride into your hand.

It was the hottest noise you’d ever heard, and you wanted to keep drawing it out of her. To keep hearing her moan for you, and your actions only.

Suddenly, you had something you prove, both to her and to yourself. Flashes of Cat in your mind as you wanted her to forget other women existed.

You unwrapped yourself off her lap, removing your fingers, kissing her stomach as you pulled her pants and underwear down, grabbing her legs and holding them open, exposing her even further.

“Damn,” you said, glancing over her wet inner thighs as they glistened, all for you.

“Shut up,” she spoke, voice tight as a side smile swept over her features, as she grabbed the back of your head, pushing you closer to her pulsing core, throbbing and dripping waiting for you to make contact.

You licked a line up her heat, moaning to yourself at the taste of her. You grew light-headed, thinking you could die happily just between Ellie’s legs, becoming addicted to her moans as you ate her out, head in a daze as she squeezed her thighs tight around your head, almost cutting off your air supply- her moans growing more frequent, as she reached closer. Your free hand moving up to wrap itself around her breast, squeezing tighter around her nipple.

Deciding to have a little more fun, you slipped two fingers into her wetness as you continued to lap your tongue around her clit, pushing up into her as you sucked. Dragging her delicious sap on your tongue as it marred all over your face, cheeks glassy with her warm sleek.

Ellie had lost control over her vocal cords at this point, moans slipping out from between her sweet lips no matter how hard she tried to suppress them. Hell, you were moaning too, despite not even being touched yet, dripping all over yourself, ass up and needy as you rolled your hips over thin air as you continued to soak yourself into Ellie.

There could be no coming back from this, you thought, not now that you had been exposed to the delicacy that is Ellie Williams. You were holding on to her and not letting go.

You felt Ellie’s moans get shorter, cutting themselves off from its full power before the next one came, her hips moving more haphazardly up to meet your tongue, she was close.

You glanced at her, her eyes closed, brows pinched up and mouth agape, a slight sheen to her skin from sweat, she’s so attractive, you thought.

With your free hand, your fingers guided themselves onto your own folds, rolling over your own clit for some release, the lack of hand on her caused Ellie’s eyes to lull over at you, the sight of your arched back, wet cheeks from her slick, spread legs as you touched yourself all whilst still fucking her into oblivion.

The damned sight of you, just as undone as Ellie, without her even touching you, was enough to cause the coil in her abdomen to twist, before she came all over your face, breath slowing into heavy pants as her body twitched. You lapped her up her residue, finally removing your face from between her legs as she looked at you. Wordless.

“Wh-what the fuck..” Ellie’s weak voice trailed, before laughing and forcing a kiss on your lips, hands wrapped around your jaw as she tasted the remnants of herself on you.

There was no way you were about to give her the best orgasm of her life and expect her to not do anything back? Funny joke. Ellie was ravenous now.

She placed you underneath her, biting around your thighs before bending her head down, her tongue having been desperate for a taste since that first day she saw you. “I wanna fuck you so bad,” Your legs tightened around her as the air from her voice hit your centre, “Been dyin’ for a taste,” You looked at her, tip of your eyebrows raised up as you took in her words, how long had she wanted you back? Her words caused you to shudder, whimpering as she continued.

“Fuck,” You said, voice breaking as her tongue rippled over your pussy as your hips shook, slurping up the honey that had been left neglected. Long, slender fingers meeting your centre that had felt so, so desperate and needy for her to touch.

“G’na show what you’ve been missing,” She hummed, as her fingers picked up pace working harmoniously with her tongue as she fucked into you. Warm muscle rolling over your pulsing clit. Fingers rubbing over your velvet walls which sucked her further in, skin dragging out with her soaked fingers when they recoiled out, the image obscene. “What was waiting for you this whole time,”

“Els- shit, wanna feel you,”

“What you want, baby?” She gasped out, in between breaths as fingers toyed with your clit.

“Wanna feel you, y-your fucking pussy on mine-fuck,” you cut yourself off, embarrassed. The desire was simply too strong, you were dizzy just from the thought of it. Ellie seemed to share your enthusiasm, her heart skipping a beat, the thought kindling her veins with heat.

This was truly a gift from the heavens, she thought.

“Shit- yeah, okay.” Ellie exhaled out, as she got you into position, grabbing one of your smaller pillows to cushion underneath you as she placed her legs over yours, getting into place as she rubbed her clit over yours, hips lolling over your pelvis.

The sounds were debaucherous as they filled the room, hot and wet, as if the spirit of Dionysus, himself had possessed you. Invoking you with bacchanal, carnal desire as you could think of nothing else than the sublime vice that is Ellie Williams.

“Fuck, Els, I’m gonna come,”

Ellie groaned, rocking her hips over yours, her defined abs on show, breasts working with Earth’s gravity as they sprung up and down to match her movements, hair falling out of her half-bun, causing some strands to stick to her face, completely dishevelled. You looked at her, eyes attached to yours, lust ruling over them, then looked back down to where you were both intertwined. You trapped your bottom lip with your teeth at the sight before you.

Her sap mingling with yours, leaking out from her cunt as it folds over your own, Wrapping you with her warmth, pulsating around yours. Ellie’s body still trembling from before.

“Then come for me, baby,”

You were gone. With her words, you felt yourself spilling out against her, not being able to hold back the climax of your arousal spurting out from you, splashes reaching Ellie’s legs.

“Fuck, Ellie!” Your voice drawled out, as the wave ran through you,

“That’s it, angel, come all over me,” She smirked down at you, breath heavy as she watched your eyes glaze over, lips parted and chest heavy as you finally came down. A ardent glaze over her eyes.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” She gaped, eyes transfixed on your figure as her reeling mind came down from the high.

“Shit, neither did I,” you laughed, covering your mouth, suddenly shy. With your head still in the clouds, you weren’t feeling as overly self-aware.

“That was fucking hot, and I’m not done.”

—

leave a comment, reblog or like if ya enjoyed <3

[quarterlifekitty]

first, im a bit new to cod but idk…

thinking about ghost’s spouse visiting him on base or some shit, and everyone else wondering how tf he was emotionally flexible enough to bag a bad bitch 🫶

note: this is just my personal little fantasy world headcanon lol so take it with a grain of salt!

Simon maintains a vaguely human lifestyle by adhering to one very strict rule: rigid compartmentalization. You don’t come up at work, and work doesn’t come up around you. Never the twain shall meet, he thinks. And he’s not exactly a watershed of information when he’s with his mates. And it’s not like anyone is asking “When was the last time you got fucked, Ghost?” and seriously expecting a response.

He tells you about the crew, but not about what he does with them. Killing, espionage, torture– that kind of thing stays off the dinner table.

Let it be known that you do not surprise him at work. You respect his boundaries too much, which is why he’s so fucking serious about you, honestly. He calls, asking if you can run something to him. This is maybe the greatest symbol of trust he can bestow, as a man who has only a fraction of an existence in the eyes of the government: he asks you to bring a document of his. He gives you the instructions on how to find it, and trusts that you won’t look at anything you don’t have to.

You know Johnny lets out a low whistle when he sees you coming up with a manilla folder in your hands.

“Who’s that bloody bombshell, then?”

You spy Simon and jog up to him with a smile. He’s the one who embraces you, short but strong. Cue the nigh audible gasping.

“LT, you absolute dog.”

Simon rolls his eyes as the two of you are crowded in short order. You make polite introductions, but have a previous engagement– you really did only have time to stop by.

Hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave.

Everyone is wondering how this could’ve happened. For the record– I think in this scenario, Johnny and Gaz go through a constant string of heartbreaks, and John is kinda married to his job. So in a cruel twist of fate, Simon is actually the only one currently with a partner, much less a spouse.

“How’d you manage to bag a right beauty like that, LT? C’mon, spill it–”

Simon doesn’t mean to diminish your value or anything, but his answer is not going to be satisfying, because he doesn’t find it that difficult to get women. And also, you’re his true love, so you’re perfect for each other and growing close to you was as easy as breathing. But he doesn’t say that.

“S’not that hard. Remember the stuff she says, don’t keep no secrets… dick ‘er down the way she likes.” He doesn’t mean to be crude about it, but from his perspective, is one of the main reasons why you tolerate him. Soap howls at the response.

He’s telling the truth, though! He has a scarily good memory. Remembers every friend you’ve ever told him about, every movie you’ve ever mentioned, every meal he’s cooked for you and how you liked it. He remembers dates, times, and lists with no issue whatsoever.

And he’s never kept anything from you. He tells you how the fuck he’s feeling, and you return the favor, even if it isn’t pleasant. The only thing he doesn’t mention to you are the gorey details of his work.

And you have never had more of a communicative partner, ironically. There were times in the beginning when he didn’t know all of the ins and outs of coaxing pleasure from your body, so he asked you to show him how you like it. And that scary memory is at work yet again– every sensitive spot, every offhand mention of a kink you’ve not yet explored together, every arch of your spine and clench of your cunt. He’s got it down to a science. Could write novels about making love to you specifically.

What I’m trying to say, at the end of the day, is that Ghost bagged a bad bitch by being autistic.

[n6ptunova]

camera roll with bf!matt

backstory of each pic at the end <3

backstory of each pic:

༻ʚ 1. “i loveee this outfit on you, you look so cute,” you smirked knowing your boyfriend doesn’t take compliments well.

“this outfit? you have weird taste.” he rolled his eyes but you can see the corner of his lips fighting back a smile.

you ignore his comment and move away from him as he gives you a questioning look. his confusion is gone when you pull out your film camera from your drawer. “is this really worth film?”

“yes, the fit, your hair, and mr wrinkleton- this is important!! smile please.” he then finally posed, barely smiling but that’s as much as you’re gonna get out of him.

༻ʚ 2. “matt, stop!” you giggle running away from matt who had started a pillow fight earlier. you walked into his room wearing his pj bottoms (from pic 1) and told him they’re yours now. he claimed it’s his favorite but it was yours too :( you unintentionally declared a war when you said if he wants them back he’ll have to take it himself.

that’s when he stood up and started chasing you and it turned into a pillow fight. see, he doesn’t actually care about the pants- you can have his entire closet if you asked. but he loved teasing you just as much as you loved annoying him.

you run into nick’s room yelling, “ nick, help! your brother is trying to kill me!”

“she stole my pants, i want them back!” he laughed, out of breath.

“aren’t boyfriends supposed to like giving their clothes to their girlfriends? stop being a loser matt.” nick said, pulling out his phone to record this. “EXACTLY, tell him nick!!”

matt finally got a hold of you as he tackled you into nick’s bed, both of you giggling and play flighting while nick eventually gets tired and kicks you both out.

༻ʚ 3. you and matt agreed to keep your relationship offline for at least a year. well it was finally your one year anniversary and matt surprised you with a trip just the two of you.

you woke up cuddled in matt’s arms, he gave you a soft kiss as he struggled to fully wake up. you’re more of a morning person than he is so you sat up taking in the view from the hotel and that paired with how fine your boyfriend is you decided to take a “soft launch” picture asking matt if you can post it to which he nods. the pic became a fan favorite amongst his fans for obvious reasons :)

༻ʚ 4. before this picture was taken, you and matt were in his room…making out…a lot. it was getting intense with his grip on your waist guiding your hips back and forth on his lap while your hands pull and tug on his hair and his tongue down your throat.

before this went any further you hear a loud yell from chris saying ‘food’s here.’ groaning you get up off him admiring how fucked he looks. “wait a few minutes, i can’t go out with a hard on.” you laughed and said you’ll meet him outside.

when he comes out of his room his hair is still a mess and he looked as fine as ever. you told him and nick to pose for a friday dump but really, you just wanted to this look on your boyfriend. you’ll definitely pick up where you left off tonight.

༻ʚ 5. beach date with matt <3

༻ʚ 6. matt was playing with your puppy and you left them to go make some food, when you came back you found them napping together on the ground making your heart melt. you love them both so much.

tag list🤍 ~ @mattscoquette @et6rnalsun @norr1ssturni0lo @sturnsxplr-25

if you wanna be added please lmkk <3

[adyophene]

Radiotrio day 6: Roleswap!

Alastor - Charlie

Husk - Vaggie

Niffty - Angeldust

Deets under cut!

"Alastor":

Alastor is actually Cain going under a pseudonym. He's trying to redeem sinners not out of the goodness of his heart, but as a fuck you towards Adam, his estranged deadbeat Father. He vaguely believes redemption is possible, but on the outside he gives off the vibe of thinking its nonsense. Eve, who is in hell, is the one payrolling the whole thing. As the first Sinner in hell she holds a bit of power. (Eve - Lucifer swap)

Al exclusively advertises the Hotel through radio commercials and jingles and doesn't really care that it is probably is why no one knows about it.

"Husk":

A fallen angel who always fucked off and drank and gambled during exterminations instead of killing sinners. When he caught his wings were chopped off and he was left for dead. Alastor found him and offered him a deal. Al would keep Husk's identity secret so long as Husk worked for him. Husk tried to refuse and goad Al into finishing him off, but was instead lured into a bet. He lost and became Al's right hand cat.

Husk doesn't believe in redemption at all. He is trapped in Heaven's mindset that once you fucked up you're done forever. He puts up with Al's antics with a heavy amount of booze.

Niffty:

Hell's favorite killing machine. Niffty is a weapons spokesperson working for Carmilla. She's recorded by a camera crew when she goes out to kill his rivals and its all pitched as a fun and brutal reality show with a star who revels in the thrill of the hunt. Niffty loves her craft and is extremely skilled, but is becoming burnt out. She suffers from an addiction to amphetamines to keep up her 'high energy camera persona'. (When exhausted she just ends up freezing out and staring into the camera ala the gag in the show.)

Niffty is ambivalent about redemption, but likes to stay at the hotel cause she likes Al and Husk, and because it gives her a break from work.

Charlie: A former human who made a deal with Lucifer so she could come down to hell and try to help the undeserving sinners there. She is absolutely ecstatic about the hotel and is all but overbearing in trying to help Alastor achieve his goal.

Vaggie: A sinner who went to hell for her 'extremely violent tendencies', despite the fact that all her actions were in the protection of herself and family/home. Charlie found her in the aftermath of a territory dispute, and after helping her/hearing about her backstory, all but glued Vaggie to her side. Vaggie doesn't believe in redemption, due to her guilt/shame over her violent past, but is dragged along by Charlie.

Angeldust:

Charlie's mysterious and excitable friend. Angel loves a good 'naughty boy' and doesn't so much as clean, but rather struts about posing in whatever meido costume he likes for the day. Charlie knows his past and is the reason he works at the hotel. She thinks he is a good candidate for redemption. Angel doesn't really care either way and is just happy for a shit easy job that he can dress up cute for and slack off all he likes!

I don't know when, but I might come back to this roleswap idea in the future and expand out other swaps!

[i-cant-sing]

Time Traveller AU part 11

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Part 6 is here. Part 7 is here. Part 8 is here. Part 9 is here. Part 10 is here. Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Part 12 is here!

Your eyes are closed as you travel through time and space, wondering where you'll end up this time. Surely, if the universe saved you one more time, it means you'll probably end up in a better place-

Your eyes snapped open at the loud sound of thunder. You're staring up at the sky, dark clouds lightening flashing across it and-

I'm still falling!

You're not able to breathe until you take a gasp just as you hit the ground below you-

Wet. No, not ground. You look around in the dark water, not able to visualise anything before adrenaline kicks in and you start to swim to the surface.

You gasp as you come up and look around you.

You're in the sea. You're in the middle of the sea!

Your heart is drumming against your chest as you look up at the sky. Its dark, filled with heavy cloud and thunder. As the waves around you begin to move, your blood runs cold.

Storm. Sea storm.

Before you're able to react, though you doubt you could've prepared yourself, the waves crash down on you, pulling you back under the waters. No matter how hard you try to come back up, the waves thrash you here and there, insistent on drowning you. Even if you're able to break the surface for a few seconds, you're only able to take in so much air before getting waterboarded by the sea.

You're thrashing about under the waters, your body starting run out of adrenaline and reaching exhaustion, when you spot something in the corner of your eye.

Its a dark, huge figure. Horizontal, streamlined-

Shark. Its a fucking shark!

You'd scream if your body would listen to you. But you froze, and for some reason, your mind went on autopilot and made you raise your fists.

What? Fight the shark? What the fuck Y/n-

The shark was less than 5 feet from you when an orca came out of nowhere and attacked the shark.

You could only watch as the two sea animals fought each other, the killer whale clearly winning as the shark's thrashing began to subdue. That was the last thing you saw before losing consciousness, praying to God someone finds your body at least.

-

You wake upto the sound of a woman screaming.

Screaming. So, I must be in hell. Huh.

Your eyes flutter open and you look around the large white room you're in.

Its a hospital ward.

Your gaze falls on the shrieking female patient, currently being strapped to her bed as nurses try to inject her with something.

"Oh, you're awake." A nurse states as she comes by your side, noticing the English accent. "Didnt think you would after they found you washed up on the shore. You were shivering all over!"

Ah, nearly drowned. Nearly had hypothermia. Maybe I should have a "near-death" board.

You cleared your throat. "Where am I? How long was I out?"

"You're in London, honey. It was the nearest hospital from where'd they found you. You've been here for a day." She watched you sit up. "Where you from, dearie?"

Pressing your temples, you answered. "Just... around."

Her face turned somber. "You're one of those, arent you?"

"One of who?" You narrowed your eyes at her. "One of who?"

"One of the damned who spread their filth-!" She snarled, stopping when she saw a doctor come up. "Hello, Dr Lowe!" The doctor merely gave her a nod, his eyes fixed on you. "And how are you, miss-?"

"Y/n." Whats the point of lying with another name? Its not like they'd find a record of you.

"Miss Y/n." He nodded. "Do you remember what happened? Why you were on the beach?"

"Um..." You tried to come up with an excuse. "I think... I was trying to swim."

Dr Lowe raised a brow. "Swim? In the winter?"

"Mmhm. Better to prepare myself for the summer." You feigned a smile, not receiving one back.

"Why?" The nurse asked, shrinking when the doctor shot her a glare.

"For... for fun?" You answered, unsure. What, is swimming a crime here?

"And you were swimming in... these clothes." You look down, noticing you were still in the Ottoman attire, wearing a flimsy gown.

"I was rehearsing for a play." The lie rolled out easier this time.

"Are you married?"

"No." I just escaped several attempts though. "Are we done here? I need to get home."

"And where would that be?" The doctor asked, crossing his arms as he looked at you.

"Outside of London. I dont feel comfortable telling you the address." You answered, not appreciating his interrogation.

"Miss, do you know what day it is today?" Shit.

"No. I have never been good at remembering dates." You pull the sheets off you to get off the bed but the doctor's words stop you.

"Its 8th of October."

And this is where you made a stupid mistake.

"What year?" The question came out before you could think of the repercussions.

"You... dont remember the year?" The doctor and the nurse shared a look before looking back at you.

"1860."

1860. 1860. London-

Victorian era.

Shit.

"Of course, I remember the year. I was just making sure. Anyways, I have to go-"

"You're not going anywhere, miss. You're not well. You need treatment." The doctor grabs your shoulders, pushing you back down.

"No, no. I am all good now! You saved my life, but I need to go-" You tried to push his hands off your shoulders, watching the nurse leave in a hurry.

The doctor shook his head. "No, miss. You may be fine physically, but not mentally." "What?" "You dressing up like this, playing some character, going to the sea to drown yourself because you're not happy with life, not remembering dates, and not having a husband- you have hysteria!"

You shook your head frantically. "No, I dont have hysteria-!"

"Not to worry miss! Its very common among women these days, sadly. But I have treated many of them successfully! And I'm sure that will be the case for you as well- Nurse! I need restraints and injections-"

Injection? Hysteria? Oh no, no. No. No! You've read about how they treated hysteria in the 1800s. Sent away to the seaside, lobotomy or forced orga-

"I AM NOT HYSTERICAL!" You thrashed around as more doctors and nurses came to hold you down. You spot the nurse holding up an injection and you only fought harder to escape as you realised Victorian medicine was basically poison itself.

"STOP- STOP! DONT INJECT ME WITH THAT!" You struggled with all your might to free yourself from their grasp, but their grip was tight and unyielding. "ITS FUCKING POISON! YOU IDIOTS! YOU'RE GONNA FUCKING KILL ME!"

You watched in horror as the nurse brought the needle closer to your arm, not even bothering to use an alcohol swab to sterilise the area so great- you'll die of an infection-

"Let her go!" They all looked towards the doorway, where a man stood looking furious. Wearing a brown coat with long sleeves and a wide collar exposing his waistcoat, he marched over to your bed and angrily took off his top hat.

"What is the meaning of this cruelty?! Unhand my wife now!" He yelled at the hospital staff.

Dr Lowe glared at him. "Wife? She said she wasnt married!"

The man scoffed. "We had a fight!" He glared at you this time. "Well, I'm sorry I spent a night away at the pub, darling! Forgive me and come back home?"

They all were staring at you now, and it only took a moment of eye contact with him for you to catch on.

"Fine. I forgive you. Lets go home-"

"Wait a second." The doctor narrowed his eyes at you. "You were found at the beach hours away from here. If he's your husband, then what were you doing there?"

He caught you off guard for a second, but you lied through your teeth.

"I obviously ran away!" You huffed. The man at the other end pulled the doctor by his collar. "And I'm from the newspaper, so if you dont let my wife go now, I will write an article besmirching you- not this run down hospital, no. I will be critisising you personally- whats your name?"

"Dr Lowe!" You pitched in. "Thank you, darling." The man nodded at you before continuing to threaten the doctor.

"I will crucify you, Dr Lowe."

The doctor huffed and nodded at the staff to let you go.

5 minutes later, you were walking with the man to the front desk to collect your belongings. You dont have your time machine on you or your jewellery from the Ottomans.

"Thank you..." You looked at him.

"Colin. Colin Felton."

As you waited for the nurse to return with your things, Colin introduced himself. True to his word, he did work in a newspaper, though you could only describe his work as "investigative journalism", but the term wasnt coined yet.

He was here at the hospital because he'd been trying to collect evidence on the inhumane attitude of healthcare workers towards patients and the alleged barbaric treatments towards the residents.

"So, why'd you help me? I mean, how'd you figured I wasnt hysterical?"

"I didnt." He grinned. "Hysterical or not, no one deserves to get lobotomised or whatever sadistic process they were going to subject you to." Colin looked at you. "How'd you know the injection was going to kill you? And what poison?"

"Look at the state of the hospital- there's arsenic on the walls. And most of the patients there were either strapped to their bed, or lying limp, drooling and groaning. The staff themselves looked like death, and there's no real concept of hygiene here, is there?" You shook your head. "The place is understaffed, overpacked, and completely unprepared for any epidemic or even anything mild!"

Colin chuckled. "Well, well, well. Who taught you so much about hospital management?"

Well, I am from the future where modern medicine has been able to provide vaccines for diseases you could die of.

You shrugged your shoulder. "My brother and I spent a summer at the mortuary." Which is true. You and Qasim had decided one summer to learn more about human anatomy (so that you could one day make your own humanoid-robots) and as kids who were unsupervised by working parents, you decided the best way to learn anatomy would be to go to the mortuary and just... take one home.

Look, in your 7 year old mind- it sounded like a good idea. There were a lot of unclaimed dead bodies at the local morgue and they wouldnt mind if you took one, right?

Qasim was hesitant but went along when you stated it was "for the advancement of science!"

Yeah, anyways, the moment you and Qasim had sneaked in and pulled the storage compartment holding someone, the doctor there caught you two. The only reason he didnt call your parents then was when you two begged you'd do anything and you were just trying to learn about human body and you swore that it wasnt for any "black magic", he instead made you and Qasim intern at the morgue.

Dr Johnson was more concerned that you two werent freaking out over dead bodies, and he probably kept you two around to see if you had any homicidal tendencies, but he found out you two were just curious kids. He was a great teacher, in all honesty, not only did he teach you about anatomy, but also a lot about the embalming, forensics, murder weapons and-

"What do you mean they're not there?" You asked the nurse. "Where's the rest of my stuff?!"

"I'm sorry ma'am, you didnt have anything on you besides the clothes on your back. And you're wearing them-"

"I'm going to give you one more chance- where's. My. Stuff?!" You snapped at her. The nurse stared at you unflinching. You pulled up your sleeve, ready to lunge. "You listen here-"

"What my wife means to say-" Colin placed a hand on your shoulder, reeling you back. "-would you please be kind and check again?"

"Like I told the missus- she didnt bring anything. Also- your missus was carried in here in the arms of another man-"

"What man?" You cut her attempt at tattling.

"He didnt give a name." She scoffed. "He just dropped you on one of the beds and left."

"What did he look like? What was he wearing?"

"I dont remember his face, but he wearing a black coat and hat, and I remember a golden band on his ring finger." She gave you a nasty look at the mention of the ring.

-

"What was so important that you lost?" Colin asked as you two walked. After questioning the nurse until she got fed up, Colin pulled you out of the hospital.

"Just some... jewels. A bracelet. Some cash- well the last bit of it that would get me home." You mumbled, every part of your being doing its best not to break down over losing the only way home. Because if you dont remain calm and lose your shit, you'll end up right back at the hospital to undergo nightmarish treatments.

"We could report it to the police. Although I doubt your case would take priority over the recent rise in murder cases-" You tuned him out as you tried to think where your time machine is.

I was dropped into the sea.... and the waves were harsh. Did I lose it in the sea?

Your stomach twisted at the thought of losing the time machine forever. At least with the thief theory, you had a small chance of getting it back. But you cant go scuba diving to find it in the sea!

"So, what are you going to do now?" He asks as you both sit down. You're holding your head in your hands. Colin's brows furrow in concern.

"Y/n?"

"I dont know, Colin!" You looked up at him. "I dont know! I lost all my belongings, everything that I needed to get home! I have no family, no place to stay and I'm a woman in a time where everyone is trying to either send me off to the looney bin or live horribly in a workhouse!"

"How do you know workhouses are horrible?" Colin raised a brow at you, an accusatory look in his eyes. "This isnt the first time you ran away from home, is it?"

You looked at his face, judging you. If you say yes, he'll think you're just a mad woman who is actually homeless and is trying to use him to get money. And you're already low as it is, you dont need more kicking down.

Scoffing, you glared at him. "What? You think I'm just a mad woman who is actually homeless and is trying to use you for money?" You shake your head, your mind making up excuses. "I... snuck into one of the workhouses."

"Why?"

"So... that I could expose the horrible working and living conditions." You continued before he could ask why. "A friend of mine lived in a workhouse. She complained about the hard labour, the isolation, the inhumane punishments. She died there." You looked down, both for dramatic effect and to avoid being caught in a lie. "I wanted to get justice for her. But the higher ups found out and tried to keep me quiet, which lead to me being on the run and hiding from them, wearing disguises-" You gestured to your Ottoman attire. "-but they caught me and put me on a boat to kill me. It was just pure luck that I washed up on the shore."

Allah, I know lying is a sin but lord- that was amazing how quick I came up with that. Please do not use this to make an example out of me.

Colin gave you a sympathetic look.

"I think I have a way to help you."

-

You were sitting in Colin's apartment.

"Here you go." He returned from the kitchen with a cup of tea.

"Thank you." You took a sip, letting the warm beverage heat your hands. "So, whats your plan?"

"I share this place with 4 people, and one of them has moved out. So, we have a vacant room for you." Colin pointed to a room on the left.

You sighed. "Thats very kind of you to offer Colin, but I cant live here for free-"

"Who said "free"?"

"I dont have a job. I cant pay rent-"

"You do have a job." Colin grinned, leaning back in his chair. "Work with me."

"At the newspaper?" You set your cup down. "I mean- I dont have any experience writing-"

He waved you off. "You dont have to write. I'll write. You- will just collect information for me."

You pondered about his statement. So basically, he wants you to be the "investigator" in "investigative journalism".

"Look, you're gutsy, you're smart, and you're strong willed. I need someone like that to collect data and infiltrate places to expose injustice." Colin leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I'd do it myself, but I've been around these places so many times that they know now that I'm from the paper. Plus, there are many places only a woman could sneak into instead." He clasped his hands. "Its an interesting job. You'll get to meet all kinds of people. And who knows, maybe even the man who saved your life and stole your belongings."

You nodded. "So, how much will you pay?"

-

Later that night, you met with Colin's flat mates- Liam, who was a police officer, Shepherd, who was a barkeeper and Benjamin who was a barber. Fortunately for you, they were all glad to have you as a flatmate, or well maybe they were just happy to have someone to share the expenses with.

Next morning, Colin told you about the assignment he was working on.

"My main project is about exposing the harrowing conditions of patients forced to undergo unnecessary and painful treatments and the atrocious attitude of the staff towards the patients. Especially in mental asylums." He huffed out, shaking his head as if recalling the nightmarish scenes he'd seen. "But thats a big project and is still underworks. You, will have to first interview and collect some dirt on some influential people and upperclass."

"Why?"

"To get access to Queen Victoria." "And why do I need her?" Colin smiled. "Well, the royal family has many sick people, so if she were to become aware of the grim conditions her subjects have to go through at hospitals, then maybe she will do something about it."

"And you think she would help us?"

He nods. "I believe she will. I think birthing 9 children and being surrounded by men who keep things from her, she doesnt have time for her subjects. But if we were to point her in the right direction until she's unable to ignore the problem."

Well, it is true that the English royal family had many illnesses passed down, famously haemophilia and due to inbreeding, some mental illnesses as well. You suppose Colin's plan just might work.

"Okay. So who's my first interviewee?"

"Charles Dickens."

-

What an asshole.

When Colin told you that you were going to interview or well "dig up dirt" on Charles Dickens, you already knew the literary legend was a jerk. Like most kids, you had read his books- "A Christmas Carol", "Oliver Twist", "David Copperfield", etc. Unlike most kids, you looked him up on the internet and went down the rabbit hole to find out everything about his life.

Including his unhappy marital life, where he was married to Catherine Dickens and basically cheated on his wife with an actress 27 years his junior- "Ellen Ternan", or as he liked to call- "Nelly". He had a secret affair with Nelly, who he had apparently spoken "highly" of- having “a pretty face and well-developed figure”—or “passably pretty and not much of an actress.”

But wait- it gets worse.

So after Catherine found out about his affair, she quietly lived apart from him. A painful scandal arose, and Dickens did not act at this time with tact, patience, or consideration. The affair disrupted some of his friendships and narrowed his social circle, but surprisingly it seems not to have damaged his popularity with the public.

While Catherine maintained a dignified silence, Charles took it upon himself to justify his affair by writing letters about Catherine as being an "unfit wife" because of some "peculiarities of temperament" she had, even saying that she didnt care for the kids nor they for her, which in 1800s- was all that you were good for as a woman. And if you're not good at your job and have "peculiarities of temperament" then that means you're just insane.

Yes, Charles Dickens tried to justify his cheating ass with a girl almost 3 decades younger than him, by saying "my wife's crazy!" Which is... a pretty serious allegation because you could be sent to the mental asylum for torturous treatments.

Which is how you got into his house in the first place. Your cover story is that you're a doctor at the mental asylum and have come over to check on Catherine after Charles wrote letters to the hospital expressing his "grave concern over her mental health". That was a tip Colin was able to get.

And now here you are, sitting in his parlour as he told you on and on about his works, how terrible his life was in general- not growing up, and how women in his life have been just such a bad influence.

"What do you think, doctor?" He asked, finally stopping after 20 minutes of yapping.

You cleared your throat, setting the tea cup down. "Oh I think you're absolutely right, Mr Dickens! My God, what good is a woman if she cant even satisfy her husband or take care of her kids?!" You watched his eyes lit up at your words. "I mean, all women are naturally homemakers. They're supposed to be the providers, the nurturers! If a woman fails to make her family feel warm, fails to make her house a home, then she surely has something terribly wrong with her head! Ah, she definitely needs our help!"

"So, you agree? Catherine needs to be institutionalised-"

"Well, I didnt say that." You gave him a coy smile. "I do understand your concern for your wife- you are a loving husband after all. Loving, caring, honest husband. Such a rare breed of men these days, hm?" You watched his smile falter a bit. "I think I will need to observe her a few more times before I make any decision, Mr Dickens. Now, good day!"

-

"I dont understand why I'm not being paid." You huff as you flop onto the sofa.

Colin sighs, rubbing his eyes. "Because I'm not being paid. And if I dont get paid, you dont get paid, remember?" Ah yes. Since you're not officially hired by his newspaper because you're a woman, you're basically Colin's employee.

"And why are you not being paid?"

"Because the paper didnt publish my exposé!" He handed you the paper.

You looked at the front page and threw the paper to the side. "What the hell is this? How long are they going to run the same news- FRONT PAGE, TOO! Its already been a week!"

"Its a big deal-"

"What? Some guy is returning to London is a news now?" You scoffed.

"Its not just some guy." Colin sighed tiredly, slumping in his chair. "Its a FitzGeorge."

"What the hell is a FitzGeorge?"

"You dont know FitzGeorge?" You shook your head. "Prince George, Duke of Cambridge? Queen Victoria's first cousin?"

You tried to remember anything about him. But you dont remember reading much about any cousins of Queen Victoria, when her kids were already so entertaining to read about.

"So, Prince George is returning?"

"No, he's been dead for years! How do you not know this?"

"I live under a rock. So who is returning?" You redirected him back.

Colin gave you a look. "His grandson. Silas Edmund FitzGeorge."

"Right. And why is he so important that he's been on the front page for a week now?"

"He's the most eligible bachelor now." Seeing your unamused look, Colin explained. "Prince George and Queen Victoria fell apart when the former married a ballerina, Sarah Fairbrother. They married without the Queen's consent, though with Sarah being a ballerina, I doubt her majesty wouldve approved of the union either way. Anyways, since they married without her consent, the marriage was essentially null and any heirs produced were illegitimate and not recognised by the crown, thus would not be granted any Dukedoms. Prince George had 3 sons- George, Adolphus and Augustus FitzGeorge. The youngest- Augustus, had two children: Daisy and Silas. Unfortunately, the kids were quite young when they lost their mother. Augustus was away on service on the sea, when his wife was brutally murdered in the family home and rumour has it- Silas had witnessed it first hand. It was just pure luck that he was not spotted by the murderer that the young child was hiding in his closet. While the kids were in mourning, Augustus had apparently went mad with sorrow when he received the news and drowned himself. Pitying the orphans, Queen Victoria had promised to make Silas a Duke and Daisy a Duchess when they came of age. But Daisy was sent to the mad house out of the blue and a few months later, she died there. Poor Silas was now taken in by his grandmother, Sarah, the very woman Queen Victoria hates. Long story short, Sarah worked very hard to raise Silas and eventually he ended up being the first in the royal family to attend Oxford university-" he leaned forward, smiling. "-without any help from the crown."

Oh, so Silas is self made. And not a nepo baby.

"Silas not only is highly educated, but he's also a very successful businessman. He has invested in many businesses and he's been a huge part in reforming industries."

"So... he's rich and self made? Got it." You looked at Colin. "Still doesnt explain why he's making news? Hell, he even took importance over those horrible murders!"

Colin grinned. "Well, he's not the most eligible bachelor just for the commoners. Apparently, the queen is considering him as a match for one of her daughters." He watched realisation finally dawn on you.

"I still should be paid." You grumbled before glaring at him. "Maybe you need to write a better article, good enough for it to take over the front page."

"If you're done criticising my writing skills, I was going to tell you a remedy for this problem." Colin had an evil glint in his eyes. "And we'll have to use our friend Mr Dickens for it."

-

Colin is a genius.

You're currently sitting in Sarah Fairbrother's house- or well a small mansion. Its a huge estate, lush green grounds surrounding it as far as the eye can see. You were sweating by the time you reached inside, the gardens were huge.

How did you end up here? Colin suggested to use dirt on Charles Dickens and blackmail him into getting you an interview with Sarah, since he is popular and part of the high society. And you only had to say "Nelly" for Dickens to fold. He asked Sarah that a young woman would like to interview her for her years as a ballerina.

You knew Sarah was Silas's grandma, but you still were not expecting to see a slim, 86 year old woman who looked absolutely beautiful. Honestly, she did not look a day beyond 60.

"So, how did you know you wanted to become a ballerina?" You asked her, starting off the interview.

The plan was for you to get close with Sarah and find some secrets, so that when Colin writes about them, the editor will take him seriously and then start posting his Dickens article.

The conversation went from her life as a ballerina, to her life as Mrs FitzGeorge. Sarah practically told you everything, you could see she was lonely and she hadnt had anyone to talk to properly. She was kind, sweet lady, and a prima donna ballerina, and you didnt understand why the queen wouldnt like her. But the thing is, her being a ballerina was a stigma in itself, because back in the 1800s, ballet theatres were used as parlours for men to drink and sleep around with women. Thus, by association, ballerinas were bad too.

But despite the queen's shunning, Sarah did not speak ill of her. No, she was a lovely, demure lady who was still very much passionate about ballet.

"And for all the young girls who aspire to be a ballerina one day, much like myself, what advice do you have for them?" You asked,

"Dance with your heart, and your feet will follow!" She smiled so gracefully, that you couldnt help but return it.

"Thank you for such an amazing interview. I am sure girls from all around London will look upto you one day." You said, closing your journal.

"You flatter me, darling." She giggled before looking down at your legs. "You know, I saw your skirt ride up a bit earlier and I think you have the perfect calves for ballet! Have you ever considered?"

You chuckled, shaking your head. "I wish! But I think I'm a little too old to learn ballet now."

"My dear, you're never too old to enjoy life!" Sarah smiled.

"Perhaps, one day." You stand up. "I would love to know more about it. Maybe we can do this again, if you have time?"

It wasn't right to use her loneliness, but... you had to make a living. Besides, there are far worse things you can do than talking to an old lady to solict information.

-

You were not expecting Sarah to invite you back two days later, that too for dinner.

"Its not just a dinner, Y/n." Colin said, pacing back and forth. "I think Silas is going to be there. Of course, it'll be a party in his honour! Ah, the return of the beloved grandson and the most eligible bachelor in town!" He continued to mutter incoherently, his mind working overdrive as he began planning ahead.

"How often does he go mad like this?" You whisper to Benjamin, who was currently styling your hair for the dinner.

He smiled, his moustache curling up. "Quite often." He had your hair in a nice updo, and on your insistence, he also allowed some hair to frame your face.

"You cant go empty handed." Colin said, stopping his pacing. "Its high society, you cant go empty handed! You need to get a gift, something appropriate and if possible, memorable enough for them to call you back again and again."

You glared at him through the mirror you were standing in front of as Benjamin helped tighten your corset.

"I dont think anyone will be forgetting me after the objectionable alterations you made to this gown." You pointed to the outfit you were wearing- a baby blue silk gown with delicate lacework around the scandalous neckline and puffy sleeves, courtesy of Colin.

Colin rolled his eyes. "So what if you showed some skin? I'm only trying to ensure that you leave a lasting impression on them." He put on his hat. "Now come along, we have to get a present too."

You and Colin walked down the streets of London, the area bustling as people returned from their jobs and either rushed home or to the pubs.

"Where are we going to get a present now, Colin? One that is both good enough and you can afford to buy too." You commented as you pulled your coat tighter around your body, the cold biting at your bones.

He offered you his arm and pulled you close to his side to warm you up. "I was going to get a wine bottle but the shop closed early today and Shepherd said he hadn't been able to secure any good bottles at the pub, so we'll- we'll just have to go for the next best thing." You two stopped in front of a shop on Regent street.

Regent's Antiques!

"Really? And you can afford antiques?" You raised a brow at him. He shrugged before pushing you inside the shop. "I dont know, but I am good at bargaining."

The shop is huge and immediately stepping inside, you could tell that there was nothing here Colin could afford to buy. The shelves that held the items alone looked like they were made of rich wood, the smell of mahogany, musk and polish filling up your nostrils.

"Lets get out of here before we embarrass ourselves-" you whisper to Colin but he brushes you off and walks further into the store. Sighing, you start browsing the store, an amalgam of things were present there- relics, ceramics, gold and silver and other metalware.

"And how much is this for, sir?" You turned to see Colin ask the salesman for the price of the vase he was holding. You didnt have to hear how expensive it was when you saw Colin's eyes widen as he nervously chuckled before putting the vase back. You heard him do this again over the next 30 minutes, picking up stuff and placing them back.

In the corner of your eye, you spotted a small box. You picked it up and opened it, smiling as it played a melody while the ballerina figurine twirled in the center.

The perfect gift.

You went upto the counter and asked how much it was for.

"100 pounds."

100 pounds... 100 pounds in 1860, with inflation would be todays-

Your eyes widened as you looked down at the box. The salesman mistook your shock for interest and began explaining how its made of pure gold and that this box belonged to a king who gifted it to his queen for their everlasting love.

"Mmhm. Interesting-" You cleared your throat, placing the box back on the shelf. "- but its not what I'm looking for."

"Y/n? What are you doing? I already bought the gift!" Colin came by your side.

"What did you buy?" You asked him before pulling him to the side to whisper. "What could you have possibly afforded in this place?"

"I almost didnt find anything but then the owner of this place saw me and showed me something a little more in my range and I'm getting it wrapped up now!" He told you gleefully.

"The owner? Who?"

"Mr Blackwood! He came here to get a present for someone too and then showed me some old items that were either too ugly or too damaged or just been here for so long, they had to store it in the back! And I found a gem, not too shabby and in a good condition too!" Colin grinned proudly. "Come on, I'll show you the back!"

He ushered you to the storage and true to his word, the room was indeed filled with boring and damaged items. "Take a look around, I need to haul a carriage to load the present and you cant be late!" He left you there.

You browse through the stuff there before going towards the wooden cabinet in the corner. Its locked. You look through the glass panels at the precious antiques inside- mostly bejewelled items like daggers, boxes, broaches and-

Your breath hitched.

Time machine.

My time machine. Its here!

You press your hands against the glass before pulling on the handles to open it, only for the lock to not budge.

Its just glass. You raise your fist. I can just-

"I wouldnt do that if I were you." A voice called out from behind you. You turned to see a man in the doorway, broad shouldered and even from a distance, you could see he had two shades in his eyes.

Green and brown.

Well suited in a coat and shiny dress shoes, he looked like he was going somewhere. He stepped towards you, an mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Those are my belongings." He said.

Oh. So, he's the owner.

"Not all of it. Thats mine." You point to your machine inside. "It was stolen from me a few days ago."

He shrugged. "How can I believe you? I dont know you." He takes another step towards you. "Besides, everything here once belonged to someone. Now? Its mine."

You frowned. "That belongs to me. I even have an official police report." You dont but you decided to bluff.

He chuckled. "Sure you did. But it still doesnt change the fact that its in my possession now." Before you could reply, Colin returned.

"Ah Y/n! I see you've met Mr Blackwood. He's the-" "Owner. I know. And he stole my stuff." You grumbled to Colin.

Mr Blackwood narrowed his eyes at you. "I did not steal it, young lady. Someone came to us and sold it."

You glare at him. "No-" "Yes, of course, Mr Blackwood." Colin cut you off. "And we appreciate that you've kept it safe, but we would like to buy it back from you."

Mr Blackwood looked at him and then at you, before smiling.

"I wasnt planning on selling but since you already bought one of my antiques..." he nodded. "1000 pounds and its yours."

Your jaw went slack and you almost started to swing when Colin grabbed your elbow.

"Mr Blackwood, if you could just give us a better deal-"

"1000 pounds, Mr Felton. And not a penny less." He said before leaving.

-

"Why are you mad at me?" Colin asked as he sat next to you in the carriage.

"I'm mad at him, Colin! There was no way that was worth 1000 pounds! No one would pay such a ridiculous amount! For anything!" You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Of course it wasnt worth a 1000 pounds. He raised the price because you pissed him off." You glared at him. "Look, just focus on tonight and when we get our paycheques, I'll go talk to Mr Blackwood again and bargain a good deal. Because even if he did gave us a good deal right now, I couldnt afford it, not after spending money on your outift and that gift,"

You scowl but nod stiffly. "Fine."

The carriage reached the FitzGeorge estate, stopping at the entrance where a small army of servants waited to greet you and other guests.

"Good luck. See you in a few hours." Colin wished you before calling two servants to carry the gift.

"What the hell did you buy?" You ask as you watch the servants carry a rectangular box wrapped in brown paper and a big red bow inside. "Come on, tell me. What if they ask me what it is?"

Colin grinned as he tipped his hat at you. "I guess you'll have to figure out something on the spot. Bye!" The carriage left before you could pester him.

Huffing, you lifted your gown a bit as you walked up the steps and entered inside the beautiful mansion.

The lobby is filled with guests and servants who are taking their coats and leading them inside. There's a stairway on the right leading to private quarters upstairs, a drawing room beside the stairs where you had interviewed Sarah the last time you were here. On the other side, you see a table stacked with presents, your own gigantic box settled behind them.

This was not just a small dinner, was it?

You're lead inside what seems to be a ballroom, the lights seeming to bounce of the polished wooden floors. Waiters are serving guests alcohol and appetisers, and you hold the champagne filled glass too.

Hey, just because I'm not drinking doesnt mean I cant hold it. I need to blend in.

You hold the glass in your hands as you look at the attendees, trying to spot any famous personalities. You notice Charles Dickens again, of course he's here too. Your eyes drink in the pretty dresses of the women and almost roll at the sight of obnoxious men who dont make an effort to conceal their ogling.

Soon, the butlers gets everyones attention as he annoucnes the arrival of the hostess.

"Lady Sarah Louisa FitzGeorge, accompanied by her grandson, Lord Silas Edmund FitzGeorge!"

Sarah was wearing a black regency gown, puffy panelled sleeves and a golden brooch with an onyx stone in the center of her neckline, her neck adorned with pearls and matching tear drop earrings. She walked arm-in-arm with a dashing young man, and you could definitely see why he was the "most eligible bachelor".

Dark chocolate brown hair, the thick locks styled properly and you were sure that under the sunlight, they'd have different shades of brown and golden in them. Fair skinned, yet not deathly pale as most of London is, he had thick brows framing dark grey eyes adorned with enviable thick lashes, that dont seem to be focusing on anyone, just looking ahead, unamused. A sharp Roman nose, followed by perfectly sized pink lips, with a deep and defined cupid's bow and a strong jawline.

They both walked down the stairs and entered the ballroom together, Sarah practically beaming with pride as she walked in with her grandson who towered over her. Everyone talked in hushed whispers, admiring Silas's beauty and how he looked like royalty. Sarah continued to smile at the guests as they made their way towards the center.

As the guest finally quieted down, Sarah began speaking.

"Thank you all for joining me tonight to celebrate my dear Silas's return from Oxford!" People clapped at the huge academic achievement but Silas still looked like he'd much rather be anywhere else than here. Sarah continued. "I had dearly missed him so much. He's been my rock, my star, my everything after his grandfather left me. But tonight is not about sorrows, no. Tonight we celebrate Silas! I hope you enjoy this, darling." She looked up at him and Silas smiled gently at her, a dimple appearing on his left side, leaning down to let her kiss his cheek.

Sarah clapped her hands, nodding at the butler.

Moments later, ballerinas entered the ballroom and began putting on a show. Ah, so this is why you were invited back. Sarah probably thought that you'd enjoy this due to your keen interest in the performing arts.

I mean... its not bad. Actually, its quite entertaining. But you're not here to enjoy ballet. You're here to get dirt on the upper class of London.

You move through the audience, picking up on interesting bits of convo here and there, mostly about extra marital affairs and tax frauds. When you see Silas again, he's not by Sarah's side anymore. No, instead he's now surrounded by some men, much older than him. They seem to be close to him, though Silas doesnt seem to share any familiarity with them as they speak in hushed tones, a hand on his shoulder to emphasise their point. Finally, Silas gives them a nod before moving away from them, and he's once again crowded by 3 boys, much closer to his age this time and Silas actually gives them a smile as they head out of the ballroom.

Friends, maybe relatives? You dont recall Colin telling you he had any brothers, only a sister who passed away in an asylum.

Your eyes trail back to the men who were talking to Silas earlier, only to see a familiar face there.

Mr Blackwood.

Despite being much younger than the men, he seemed to hold authority over them. You could see from the way they shook his hand, eagerly, desperately and talking over each other, but Mr Blackwood just stood there with a charming smile, listening to their concerns before holding a hand up to silence them. He said a few words that seemed to quell their worries before he moved past them and for a brief second, his eyes met yours and he smirked, tipping his head at you before leaving the ballroom.

You thought he'd come to you, maybe interrogate why someone like you was here in the first place, but perhaps you blended in better than you thought.

"Y/n! Darling, you came!" Sarah greeted you happily as she embraced you in a hug. "How do you like the show?"

"Oh, its just so... exquisite. Bewitching, really!" You smile before complimenting her outfit. "And your gown, your jewellery, everything looks so beautiful! If I didnt know any better, I'd say you were Silas's elder sister!"

She laughed softly, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, its you kids who keep me so young! Come on, I want to introduce you to Silas! I'm sure he'd be delighted to meet you." She lead you towards the lobby after a servant told her about his whereabouts, and there you saw him and his friends from earlier.

Silas leaned against the wall, watching humourlessly as the boys went through his gifts, opening them up crassly and mocking the gifts, all while he sipped his champagne.

"Silas- boys! What are you doing?!" At Sarah's admonishing tone, all of them straightened up.

One of the 3 boys, a blonde pouted as he stood up from the floor, dropping the gift box in his hands and you heard glass break.

"Nana! We were just helping Silas open his presents!"

Another boy, also blonde but he was taller than the first one, sheepishly hid his hands behind his back, though the crinkling of wrapping paper gave him away.

"Yes Nana, we were just helping him! He gave us permission to do so."

"Permission to act like animals?" Sarah fumed, making them lower their heads. It was kinds of adorable seeing them standing there looking defeated while a woman much smaller in stature than them scolded them.

Finally, the third boy who was the brunet and the oldest of the three stepped closer to Sarah. "Sorry Nana, we'll be more careful next time. Right boys?" The blondes nodded. The brunet then settled his eyes on you. "And who's the lovely lady next to you, Nana?" He changed the topic and Sarah's anger seemed to evaporate as she looked at you.

"Ah, yes! This is Lady Y/n Paddington!" Yes, Paddington as in Paddington the bear. What? This was the only name that came to mind at the moment that couldnt be traced. "She's the one who interviewed me about my career as a ballerina a few days ago. And look! Today we had a show for her to see!"

The three boys greeted you nicely, making some comments about how pretty you are before getting glared at by Sarah. Silas remained leaning against the wall, looking out the window at the dark night.

"Silas! Darling, come say hi!" Sarah called him before turning her attention to the boys, scolding them for being so undignified for opening Silas's presents.

Silas walked over to you, and you took a deep breath to introduce yourself-

"Are you done?"

You blinked at him in confusion. What?

"What?"

Silas looked past you at his grandma before looking down at you.

"I said, are you done? Have you gotten what you came here for?" He asked monotonously.

Wow. So does everyone have a stick up their ass in high society?

You narrowed your eyes at him. "And what exactly would that be?"

His expression didnt change. "Jewels, cutlery, secrets, contacts, a rich man?"

"What makes you think I already dont have all of those things?"

He scoffed, giving you a look. "You stick out like a sore thumb. You're not part of the wealthy." Silas looked at the champagne glass in your hand before smirking.

"What now?" You seethed.

"Anyone with a taste for finer things in life knows not to hold the glass from the top. You hold it from the stem, so that you dont warm the drink from the heat of your palm." He leans down to whisper in your ear. "Stop pretending to be someone you're not."

You know you shouldnt have, you know that you're better than him academically by literally centuries, you know this is how all rich douchebags act, but you just couldnt let a self entitled brat insult you to your face and you've had enough of those in the past few eras.

You smiled. "I guess you would know who's pretending." Silas smirk faltered.

"Remind me if the FitzGeorges are still considered royalty or not?"

You watched his eyes set ablaze, his jaw tick but before he could respond, the sound of paper being ripped cut him off.

"Charles!" Sarah yelled at the young blonde who had just ripped the wrapping paper off your present.

"Nana! This one's from Lady Y/n! Look-!" He removed the lid from the box before Sarah could stop him and your heart dropped at the sight of the contents.

Its a painting.

Its a portrait. The portrait.

The one Baldwin had made. The one that Mehmed had gotten on his conquest. The one you forgot to destroy in the Ottoman empire.

And now its here. In 1860 London. How the hell did it survive over 700 years?

Sure its not as brand new as the last time you saw it, the paint is faded and varnish is gone, but the face- your smudged face is still there!

"This is ugly, right?" Charles remarked, only to be smacked on the head by Sarah.

"It is not! Its exquisite! Its one of a kind! Just like how Silas likes his things- unique!" Sarah looked at you smiling. "I'm sure there's a story behind this, right darling?"

Your throat went dry as you nodded slowly. "Y-yes." You cleared your throat, eyes fixated on the portrait. "The owner told me that this belonged to the Turkish empire once, and um... one of the princes of the time had gotten it as a part of his loot from the conquest."

"But who's the broad-" Charles cut off his words as Sarah glared at him. "I mean- who's pretty lady in the painting?"

"She's... unknown. I only know that this was commissioned by her lover. Also, he was insane apparently." Sorry Baldwin, but you were insane.

Sarah clasped her hands over her heart, touched. "Ah! Painting by a man madly in love of his beloved! How romantic! I will have this hung up in our hallway with the rest of the paintings!"

You shake your head. "Oh, I dont think it'll go with your style-"

"Of course it will! Its a symbol of love, of devotion. Just like me and my Georgie. Just like how I wish for Silas to experience it one day." Sarah smiled at Silas.

"Yes, the day when Silas will be bitten by a rabid dog." Charles snickered only to have his ear twisted by Sarah as she began dragging him away, saying that she will tell his father of his behaviour tonight.

Without much to say, you left shortly after, bidding Silas's cousins goodbye and not bothering with Silas who was glaring daggers at you.

-

"You said what to Silas?" Liam asked as he returned from his patrolling. "I cant believe it. He is a part of royalty, maybe not directly but still!"

"He started it first." You pouted as Benjamin chuckled behind you, undoing your updo.

"Yes, but he was right to call you out. I mean, who holds the flute from the top?" Shepherd asked, sitting down as he handed Liam a drink.

You narrowed your eyes. "Well, I'm sorry that I'm not an obnoxious, rich, raging alcoholic!"

All of them chuckled as Colin sat down with a lazy smile, nursing his drink.

"You did good work tonight, Y/n." He raised the glass to you before downing his drink. You perked up. "So this means I'm getting paid with a bonus?"

He chuckled and gave you a nod. "Of course, but first- we'll need to write articles."

"We?" He nodded. "Yes. We. You will work on the FitzGeorge article for me, and write mostly good things about them so it gets published. I, will be working on the Dickens exposé along with the other secrets you've been able to get tonight. This way, when your FitzGeorge article gets published, you will get even closer to the family and the publisher will finally let me post the dirty secrets of high society! Its a win-win, really."

You leaned forward. "You make it sound so simple but while I may have been allowed to personally interview these people- that too, under the guise of not being associated with the paper, I dont think I will be allowed to work at your newspaper without being called out as your source and then none of these rich snobs will ever let me be close." You leaned back, letting Benjamin massage the knots out of your head. "The reason why Sarah even let me interview her was because I told her I wanted to promote the arts, starting with ballet. She thinks I write for the girls fraternity houses, like some sort of school project. Not a major publishing house!"

Colin rubbed his chin before snapping his finger. "I got it!" He grinned as he leaned forward. "You can write two stories! One- about your interview with Sarah! And it'll be under your name and we'll spread it around actual girl hostels, to make it seem legitamate when someone from the FitzGeorge house gets it. Doesnt matter if it'll do well or not, because you'll only sing her praises and this will make you well liked by Sarah and make her invite you to more events. And the other story, will be about the FitzGeorge estranged family relations with the Queen! Now that will get us more readers and the editor will be happy to publish it too! As for how you will actually write it- well, how would you like to be a boy?"

Everyone stared at Colin, as if he'd grown two heads.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I said, how would you like to be a boy?"

-

"If I wasnt sent to an asylum before, I'd definitely be sent to one now." You stated as Colin adjusted your bowtie.

"Only if you get caught!" He gave you a cheeky grin before shaking his head. "Which wont happen! I wont let you get caught."

"Now, turn." Benjamin said making you face him. He smiled as he placed a fake moustache on you. "Colin, you really are testing my skills these days. I mean, making Y/n a man? With a moustache? And styling her hair, even though it would've made everything so much easier if someone would just let me cut their hair-" you glared at him. "Okay, okay. No chopping off your hair. Jesus, what's with the death glare?"

"You're worried about the death glare? I'm worried why Liam was so pissed about being the only one whose clothes fit Y/n. I guess he always thought that being a copper meant he way more buff than he actually is." Colin commented. "Despite his lean built, he's surprisingly strong. Did you see the way he flipped over that thief?"

Benjamin nodded, combing your moustache.

"You're a very gorgeous male! Very demure." Colin grins before giving you some brief instructions on how to keep your cover and act manly.

"Right- so what name did you pick for your story?"

The corner of your mouth quirked up slightly.

"Holmes. Sherlock Holmes." What? Arthur Conan Doyle is probably just an year old right now. Its not gonna affect anyone if you chose one of your favourite characters names.

Plus, you're going to be an investigative journalist. So, it fits well, okay?

"Lets go, Mr Holmes."

-

With Colin's reference, you're able to get a job at the paper. And with your people watching hobby, you're able to successfully pass of as a man, a pretty man- but a man, nonetheless.

You've been hit on by a few women on the streets.

After working here for a few weeks, you finally get paid when the editor publishes your work on the FitzGeorge. You wrote mostly about Sarah and the FitzGeorge family relations with Queen Victoria, and just a few tantalising words about Silas that would have the readers waiting impatiently for the next update on the bachelor, thereby garnering more attention and you- more money, which you need to buy your time machine back.

You're sitting at your desk, typing down your next article when there's a commotion in the office.

"The boss is here! The boss is here!" Everyone rushed to do their respective tasks, or at least- look busy, do nothing. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the owner of the paper walking down the hallway, talking to-

Silas.

Silas was walking beside him, looking uninterested as he listened to his friend explaining how he operated his news agency. He gave a lookover to the cubicles before moving on. For a second, you thought he's seen you. But you were hiding behind other men, there was no way he'd spotted you.

Oh no. Is he here because he'd figured out you were the one who wrote the article in the paper? No, no- he couldnt have-

Fortunately for you, he hadnt. Silas was there because his friend, the owner, had invited him to show his newspaper agency.

With the weight off your shoulders and your pay in your pocket, you were back at the antique shop.

"You got the 1000 pounds?" You cursed mentally when you heard his agitating voice.

"Mr Blackwood, I have 3 pounds-" He cut you off with booming laughter. "Ah, poor people crack me up."

Resisting the urge to strangle him, you cleared your throat. "If you could just give me a real figure, an acceptable deal, I would like to buy my own property back."

He rested his head on his palm, leaning on the cash counter. "Now what's so special about it, hm? Because I cant seem to figure out what it even is?"

"Its nothing...." You remark before sighing. "Its a toy. It holds sentimental value."

He tilted his head. "Does it now?"

You nod.

He smiled, though something else swirled in those mischevous eyes. "Alright, I'll give you a deal." You prepare yourself. "I'll give your toy back if.... you go out on a date with me."

You narrowed your eyes. "I am not sleeping with you, Mr Blackwood-"

"And why would I do that to myself?" He raised a brow. "All I'm asking for is one date, a lovely dinner that I'll be paying for and then we can return to the shop and you can have your toy back."

You pondered over his offer, trying to figure out any traps.

"Why do you want to date me? I'm poor, like you said."

He shrugged. "Maybe I find you intriguing." He leaned forward on the counter again, wiggling his brows. "Come on, its just one date. No funny business, I promise."

You stared at him for a few more minutes before nodding. "Fine. But I get to pick the place and I will have you know that I have friends all over that will be looking for me if something were to happen."

He smirks at your attempt to threaten him. "I think we both know that I could get away with it all, love. All while making your friends disappear if I wanted to."

The way he stated it like it was true- it sent a chill down your spine.

Mr Blackwood waved to you. "See you tomorrow at 6, darling! Dont be late."

-

The next night, Colin had dropped you off at the antique store, telling Mr Blackwood- or Henry, as he insisted you called him, to bring you back before 10 pm.

You sat across from him in a fancy restraunt.

"I'll have a beef wellington and for the lady-" Henry looked at you.

"Just chips." You closed the menu, handing it back to the waiter. Henry chuckled, shaking his head.

"So... whats your deal?" You ask him, resting your elbows on the table.

He leaned in as well, dual coloured eyes sparkling with mischief and amusement. "I'm resourceful. You?"

"Cut the crap. Why am I here?" You glare at him, and he chuckled, resting his head on his palm. "I like you."

"As anyone with eyes should, but also why would you do that to yourself?" You huffed as you move away, resting against the chair as you crossed your arms over your chest.

He copied your actions, resting his arms against his chest. "Maybe I want to fall in love with you."

"I'd rather poke my eyes out." You snarked. Henry looked at the cutlery on the table. "There's the fork."

Your nostrils flared. "You think you're so clever?"

"Oh I know I'm clever, love. But it is truly remarkable it took you so long to figure it out." He grinned cheekily. "Alright alright. Ask your question."

"How do you know the FitzGeorges?"

He looked rather bored at your question. "I know everyone." Seeing your dissatisfaction, he offered you another answer. "I'm rich. They're rich. We socialised."

Thats how rest of the dinner was spent- you interrogating him, him dodging you with vague answers. Though you had a feeling he knew more than he was letting on, almost like he could read you like an open book.

Finally, the night came to an end as you saw his store come up in view.

At the end of the street, just a few shops down from his, you stopped and looked at him. "Well, this was a... date." He chuckled as you continued unphased. "I held up my end of the deal, now its your turn."

Henry nodded, grabbing your hand in his warm one, thumbing your knuckles. "Of course. I'm a man of my word." He brought your hand upto his lips, pressing a soft kiss.

"I hope you get home safely, darling."

You made a disgusted face, yanking your hand from his grasps as you wiped his kiss off with your coat. "I hope I never see you again."

He chuckled, throwing his head back. "Oh I think I'll be seeing you again rather soon, love. I enjoyed our date too much." Seeing you pissed made him laugh again, and he nodded his head at the store.

"Come along. Lets get you your toy-" He was cut off by the sound of a loud blast, the shockwaves so powerful that it made the glass of all windows in a mile shatter, the ground shook. In a second, Henry lunged at you, covering your body with his as another blast went off. Moments later, he got off you and you finally saw his shop set ablaze and completely destroyed.

Your ears rung as you stared at the fire in the shop, not noticing the people rushing out of their homes, not hearing the screams of shock, not hearing Henry calling your name.

"Y/n?! Y/N?!" He shook you by the shoulders hard, finally making you look at him. He was saying something, but you couldnt understand what. You looked at him confused, before your eyes shifted back to the fire.

You dont know when Colin came, you dont remember when Henry pushed you into his arms, yelling at Colin to get you out of there. You dont know when you got home, you dont know what the boys were asking as they picked out bits of glass from your skin.

All you know is when you woke up the next morning and stared at your bandaged skin, events of last night flashed through your head again and the realisation became the painful truth-

The time machine is destroyed.

-

You're staring at the tea cup, the beverage swirling as the maid added sugar in it.

Round. Round. Whirlpool. And then... everything settles.

The motion of the tea perfectly depicted how your life has been for some time. Thrown around in a hurricane of calamities, from one era to another, your life coming close to an end just like the tea threatened to spill over the edge, before everything settles down. Like your plans of ever returning home- stopped.

You'd returned to the sight of the incident, a part of you holding on to the hope that maybe- just maybe, your time machine survived.

It hadnt. Nothing in that store had. Henry Blackwood ran around the store, his face hardened and his collected faccacde was long gone, replaced with frowns and wrinkles. His store was surrounded by coppers and what you could only assume were either detectives or insurance guys.

After the devastating realisation, you had sort of went into a depressive spiral. Lying in your bed for days, your pillow stained with tears, Colin promising to replace whatever it is that you lost as Benjamin petted your hair, inconsolable.

A few weeks later, you returned to work. Though nothing interested you anymore, you felt like you were living on borrowed time, that any moment now, you'll face the consequences of screwing around with history and either die or possibly destroy the universe.

"Y/n?" You blinked, coming back to reality.

Sarah was sitting across from you, her face concerned as she set her tea cup down. "Darling, are you okay?"

You tried to smile, but your facial muscles didnt cooperate.

"Yes. Just... a bit tired." You diverted your eyes as you brought the cup up to your lips.

Sarah's brows furrowed even more, but she could see you were hesitant to talk about the subject.

"I called you here today to congratulate you on your article!" You looked up at her, staring at her a bit dazed. "The interview was very well received with not only just people in my circle, but female students all over in London as well!"

Sarah continued to sing your praises, while you kept your head down, offering little hums here and there.

"Even my family, who I hadnt talked to in a while, told me that they adored the way you wrote-" Your heart cracked.

Family. Mom. Dad. Qasim. I'll never see them again. They wont find out what happened to me, probably hoping that I'm missing but... alive at least. Forever holding onto that painful hope, that I may return home one day.

But I wont. I cant.

You stood outside the FitzGeorge house, under the pillars as you watched the rain fall.

"I think you should stay until-" Sarah offered, eyes looking at the sky that was pouring like cats and dogs.

"I need to go home. Thank you." You tried to smile again, but your eyes betrayed you, shinning with tears. But you left before she could say another word.

Your bones could feel the cold rain biting, your dress drenched, your socks uncomfortably wet, the tip of your nose chilled, your hair sticking to your skin, but none of it mattered. Not when you needed the same rain to hide your tears.

Your neck muscles strained as they tried to contain your sobs, your grief.

I messed up. I screwed up everything. This is all my fault.

You walked faster out of the estate, the water splashing as you stormed away, trying to find some corner where you can hide away and cry your heart out.

I'm alone. I'm all alone. I have no one. No home, no family.

You struggled to breathe, feeling like your chest was caving in.

What have I done?

In your haste, you didnt see the carriage coming straight towards you, until someone yanked you out of the way by your arm.

"Are you blind?! Or deaf-" Silas stopped his scolding as he stared at your red eyes, your wobbling lips. He loosened the painful grip on your arm, his eyes still staring into your crying ones.

Silently, he pulled you back towards the estate, though he didnt take you inside. He had a feeling you didnt want his grandmother pestering you with questions right now.

An arm around your shoulders, Silas lead towards the botanical garden house.

He helped you sit on one of the benches as the dark clouds seemed to veil the garden house, giving you two privacy. He sat down next to you.

"What happened?"

Silas watched your face screwed up in pain as you bring a hand to your temples, your lips quivering as you sniffled.

"I lost... everything."

After a few moments of silence, before sighing.

"You've only lost when you give up. Have you given up?"

You turned your head to the side, looking at his serious face.

"Yes."

He took another deep breath.

"Can you do anything about it?"

"No."

He glanced at you before looking back at the clouds.

"Do you want to die?"

You stopped for a moment. Do I? Do I want to die?

"Maybe."

"Thats not an answer." He raised a brow at you. "How about this- until you find a definitive answer to that question, you keep on living?"

Seeing your dead stare, he continued. "Look, if the worse has already happened to you, you have nothing left to fear anymore. In fact-" Silas went on to say similar motivating stuff for the next 20 miuntes, and you were simultaneously listening and not listening. Well, you heard what he was saying, you just didnt bother processing it because your mind was preoccupied by your own monologue.

He's right. The worse has already happened. I have lost the machine. I have lost my only way home. I have screwed up history. And yet, I'm alive.

Yes. This is what the universe wants- to see me down on my butt, laughing at my misery.

Well, guess what? Fuck this, fuck the universe! I'm been so careful only to barely survive. Now? I'm gonna live and I dont care what chaos it'll cause!

"Y/n?" You looked at Silas, who looked at you expectantly. "I asked you a question."

"What?"

His shoulders slumped.

"I said- will you marry me? And before you say no-"

"Okay."

Watch this, universe. Its my turn now.

So???? Thoughts???? Comments and asks???

Part 12 is here!

[wonderjanga]

Marvel not Caring

I feel like the few times Billy needs to get something over with, he just doesn’t care. Like honestly, I’m going to connect this to my Marvel Compilations post. (In that post I just talked about how Marvel could be a clip farm and the potential vids he would have) Let’s say these are all from the 8 minutes and 47 seconds of the Big Red Cheese tweaking out vid. Cause why not?

One day, Marvel’s doing patrol. See, he wants to get it done with, hopefully with no major villain attacks happening, because Darla has a school play, and he wants to see her, even if she got cast as a tree. But of course, things didn’t go his way, especially just when he needs to start heading out for the play.

*vid opens up to Marvel floating in the sky looking down at a Female Villain*

Female Villain: *attacking people and causing general havoc*

Marvel: *looks around for any cameras and doesn’t see the one recording the vid*

Female Villain: *sees him and his about to do something*

Marvel: *winds hand back (as if he needed to) and backhands her like an abusive husband*

Any Nearby Civilians: *cover their mouths as they look away. A good chunk of them sped walked away*

Female Villain: *knocked the fuck out*

I’m telling you right now, a good chunk of the comments on that video were something along the lines of ““that’s not right,” I whisper to myself as I speed walk away” or ““You don’t hit a woman,” I think to myself as I step into the safety of my car and drive away.” All stuff like that.

The day after that…

Marvel: “I just ended the problem as soon as I could, guys! I don’t beat women!” Superman: “We know! We know, but did you have to it so… so ferociously?”

Marvel: “Ferociously?”

Flash: “Dude, you looked like you’ve been waiting to do that.”

Marvel: “I haven’t! It was just effective, and I was on a time crunch.”

Flash: “Time crunch?”

Marvel: “Yeah, I had to see this person I know go be in a play.”

Batman: “Hn. You could’ve just said you wanted to see your child’s play. I’ll admit I’ve done something similar when Robin was in a play of his own.”

Superman: “Yeah. If the play thing is true, that’s a valid reason for any father to do that.”

Marvel: *a little confused as to why they assumed Darla was his kid* “Uh, yeah. I didn’t want to miss it.”

Flash: “Who was it for by the way? Junior or Mary?”

Marvel: “Neither.”

*silence*

Marvel: “You guys don’t know her. She isn’t a hero.”

Flash: “Dude… you have another kid? Why do you never tell us these things about yourself??”

Then, there’s another clip of Junior and Marvel. Beast Boy recorded the audio for shiggles and hid behind a wall but was surprisingly met with:

Marvel: “Okay, you know what, Junior? I don’t care that you’re disabled. Put your hands up.”

Junior: “Dude, I am not fighting you. You’re stronger than me.”

Marvel: “So? You’re only a little bit weaker. If you paid Mary like five dollars, I’m sure she’d fight with you. Now anyways put your hands up.”

Junior: “She’s not even here! And, hey- hey- Stop that!”

A lot of crashes and bangs could be heard for about 30 seconds. The video then ended.

Then, there’s another clip of him and Mary sibling arguing, but of course, most people think that Cap’s her and Juniors dad. So, when they say certain things, people tend to view it more extremely.

Marvel and Mary: *arguing*

Marvel: *says something completely outlandish that you should absolutely not say to a child*

Mary: *barely blinks and says something right back*

Marvel: “Oh so help me Gods, if we weren’t related, I would scrape your face across the pavement.”

Mary: “Oh yeah? Well if we weren’t related, I would skin you with a butter knife!”

The two proceeded to continue arguing before they somehow make up mid insult and go get ice cream like nothing happened.

Bonus:

Black Adam and Marvel: *floating up in the sky*

Black Adam: “You know, you’ve never said anything remotely similar to that to me.”

Marvel: “What’re you talking about?”

Black Adam: “I would scrape your face across the pavement.”

Marvel: *nearly has a heart attack when he says that*

Black Adam: “You said that to the girl. You’ve shown more disdain for that girl than you have for I.”

Marvel: “Uhhhh…” *panicking cause he doesn’t know about the video*

Black Adam: “Do you… not take me seriously?”

Marvel: “No, no, no, of course I do!”

In this AU, Marvel doesn’t really throw much shade at his villains aside from the occasional comment and that’s it.

[spacedace]

Still thinking about the Social Worker Jazz concept that @gilbirda posted about and it's slowly turning into a full Anger Management fic send help

-

Jason at length - much longer than it really should have taken really - set the resume down.

The new Social Worker’s resume. Because she was there, in his office, trying to convince him to hire her as a member of his criminal organization.

Crime Alley’s new social worker. A bright eyed Midwestern transplant from some tiny speck of a place that only qualified as a city because there was nothing bigger in a hundred miles in any direction to claim otherwise. The new social worker who had a Psy D. and three masters degrees and who had graduated Valedictorian. The one that had high paying private gigs lined up all over the country with the offering companies fighting over her.

The one who had, apparently, decided to take a shit job in Gotham’s shoddy social services department instead. The one that got kicked to Crime Alley - which was its own division despite technically being a small neighborhood in the grand scheme of things - within her first month. Supposedly for the sole purpose of scaring her off or getting her killed for all the questions she was asking and secret dealings she was sticking her nose into.

That social worker.

“I’m gonna need you to run this by me again.” Jason said, never so grateful for the voice modulator in his helmet as he was in that moment. It stripped out the bewilderment that had bled through into his words and made him sound stoic instead.

“I’d like to work for you.” The social worker - one Dr. Jasmine Nightingale - repeated primly. Back straight, clothes neat - if skewing more on the librarian side of professional - expression confident and hopeful. Completely and utterly oblivious of how fucking insane she sounded. “I was told that you’re the person in charge of Crime Alley.”

He resisted the urge to scrub at his face. It’d just look weird with his helmet on and not do anything to actually settle him in that moment anyway. “I understood that part.”

“Look, Doc,” She earned a doctorate and she was crazy enough to waltz into the office of one of Gotham’s most powerful Crime Lords, he’d be respectful about using her proper title at least, even if he suspected she was ten pounds of crazy in a five pound bag. “You’re going to have to tell me why. I was under the impression the only reason you ended up dumped on our end of the city ws because you wouldn’t play ball. But now you want to sign up for my crew?”

Nightingale frowned a little at that.

“Is that what people are saying?”

“What else are they gonna say?” Jason answered, leaning back in his seat, “Head of the department only dumps Crime Alley on folks he don’t like. And everyone knows he doesn’t like anyone that can’t or won’t play his game by his rules.”

“Alright, well. I’ll give you that.” Nightingale conceded, “Payne doesn’t like me. The feeling’s mutual. But for the record,” She added giving him a wry smile, as if sharing wry smiles with Red Hood was just something people did, “I asked to be assigned to the Park Row and Bowery neighborhoods.”

“You wanted to work here.”

“Yes.”

“Bullshit.”

Nightingale laughed. It was a bright sound. Not especially clear or pretty, but warm and welcoming in a way that carefully calculated giggles or overdone guffaws couldn’t be. Something with real and honest amusement in it, that encouraged those nearby to laugh along. Not the kind of involuntary, nervous chuckling people tended to slip into when they thought they had pissed someone that scared them off.

She just wasn’t intimidated by him at all, was she?

Behind his helmet, Jason found himself smiling. Just a bit.

“I’m serious.” She assured, blue-green eyes meeting the dark stare of his helmet without a moment of hesitation. He watched as she brushed a lock of her bright red hair behind her ear and out of the way. She’d woven it all into a practical, neat braid but a few sly pieces had snuck out to bounce around her. Gilding her quiet professionalism with a playful charm that worked well with her academia but make it cottagecore kindergarten teacher aesthetic.

“I’ll admit, Gotham wasn’t part of my plan when I first graduated. Time and choices take you funny places sometimes.” She plucked an invisible bit of lint off her soft blue cardigan, not nervous but absent as her gaze went distant for a moment. Thinking back on the events that had led her to his fine city. In a blink, those sharp eyes were back to focusing entirely on him. “But Gotham is where I am now, and I want to help.”

She looked at him, a serious, determined expression settling easily on her face. “The city as a whole has so much chaos and crime breaking out all the time.” No censure or horror in her voice, just a neutral fact to be observed. “But where the rest of the city has millions of dollars poured into it by various foundations or charities run by the Waynes, Park Row is largely ignored.”

Jason watched as steeliness sharpened her gaze, the blue-green shifting from the shine of a bird’s wing to the warning hue of something poisonous and deadly. “No one deserves that. No one.” Her chin tilted up, proud but not imperious. “So yes, I want to work here. There are people in Park Row and the Bowery who need help and I refuse to let any of them feel like they are going to be ignored.”

Jason considered her.

Really looked at her. Pealing back his initial off handed impression of her as some clueless transplant in over her head with no idea of what she was doing or what she was poking her nose into to find the real woman beneath. Her confident poise, her clear unshakable belief, her unflinching willingness to look danger in the eye and not blink. The tense curve of her frown, the lines of pain at the corners of her eyes, the simmering anger beneath it all. There was an edge to her, too. Something sharp and dangerously well hidden by the cardigan and folksy charm of her accent.

It was personal for the woman before him, Jason realized. Maybe not Crime Alley specifically, but something about the whole situation. The treatment the neighborhood and its residents received from the city at large, from those even beyond it.

Crime Alley wasn’t a place that received much in the way of charitable thought. The average joe with their house in Somerset and job at some corporate shithole hating every second of their life but thinking at least I don’t live in Crime Alley. Those asshole hoity-toites in city hall throwing money around equally between shit that’d get them re-elected and their off-shore slush funds in the Caymens doing their damn level best to pretend the black mark on the other end of the city just didn’t exist. Bruce, flooding the entire city with charitable programs and carefully constructed infrastructures shying away from the manifested grief and trauma that was the place he watched his parents get murdered.

For the most part no one from outside of the Alley gave a shit about the Alley other than as a place to avoid at all costs. And most of the time those natives that manages to claw their way out into better and brighter lives didn’t ever turn to glance back. Orpheus could have learned a thing or to from an ex-Alley Kid who managed to eek out a steady 9-to-5 and move to Burnley.

And something about that seemed to piss Dr. Jasmine Nightingale Psy. D right the fuck off.

He could see why Bill said he liked her enough to let her in.

“Alright.” He said, tilting his head, watching the woman seated across from him carefully, “Still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here. Why you’re trying to get on my payroll.”

“I’m not trying to get on your payroll.” She said, some of the glinting edge softening, but the steel remaining. Strong and unyielding. “I’m trying to get into your community outreach program.”

Jason thanked god and all the saints once again for the gift of his helmet. That baby had saved his ass more times than he could count both by keeping his head in one piece and keeping his stupefied expressions wrapped up and hidden from view. Dr. Nightingale was one hell of a woman to make him have to rely on that fact twice in one conversation.

“Wasn’t aware that was something I had.”

Nightingale, not fortunate enough to have a full face covering helmet of her own, had nothing to hide her stupefied expression behind. Jason had a feeling she might have removed it to make sure he saw even if she did though. She looked like she had caught him eating glue like it was a cheese stick.

“Yes you do.” She said, sounding deeply confused but unshakable confident in what she was saying. “I’ve seen it. The soup kitchens, the shelters, the collection boxes for donating old clothes, the after school day care.” Nightingale ticked off on her fingers, “I’ve lived here for less than two weeks and I’ve lost count of all the things I’ve seen setup to help people struggling in the area that I’ve been very reliably informed you and your organization are behind.”

Oh.

Those.

“Those aren’t part of some community outreach program.” He said, “We are simply locals offering services for our neighbors.”

He watched as her caught-him-eating-glue expression shifted into one that said she’d stumbled upon him licking electrical sockets for a mid-day pick-me-up instead. He had to give it to her, the woman was not afraid to let one of the most dangerous men in the city know she thought he was a fucking idiot.

“Let me see if I understand this right.” She said, and he appreciated that there wasn’t any kind of condescension in her voice, even though she very clearly thought he’d been dropped on his head as a baby. Possibly from the top of a three story building. “You have a large group of people working together to plan, organize and execute multiple services in your area - your community, if you will - that provide aid and support to those that otherwise would not receive it. Reaching out with your available time and resources to offer these services, that you provide. For free.”

Alright, Jason got it. He had stumbled ass backwards into creating a community outreach program. But he wasn’t just going to let her think she won this one. He was Red Hood, he had a reputation to uphold here.

“What makes you think any of that is free?” He tilted his head at just the right angle, the one that cast shadows across the planes of his helmet and made him look hell-touched and terrifying. “Just because we don’t charge money, doesn’t mean there isn’t a price to pay.”

Dr. Nightingale, dressed like a damn kindergarten teacher, laughed at him.