#i do not think i'll ever move out we are trapped in this terrible house and we

[luthifer]

sometimes it think of like doing adult things like get a credit card to slowly work up a credit score that would maybe be beneficial and then i look at any guide on how credit works and every basic info and i'm like. i would rather just die instead

[readychilledwine]

Requiem for a Dream

Part one - Home

After 50 years without his mate, Rhysand is finally free and Home.

Warnings - Rhysand's SA trauma is alluded to, depression is alluded to, terrible self care is seen from Rhiannon the OC. Oh, and as always unedited 💜

A/n - this ended up being a 4 part thing, and they are all scheduled to be posted 2 days apart (because I don't want to make you all wait when I am PROUD of the final smut scene) Each jumps is month into Rhysand being home. Each part gets spicier with time. Each part was also written with different songs involved and in mind. "Home" by MGK, Bebe Rexha, and X Ambassadors was trapped in my mind during this part

Part Two Part Three Part Four

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

Rhys collapsed on the floor of the House of Wind. He was panting before finally breaking down. His arms wrapped around his torso as sobs tore through him. "Rhys?!" The sound of heels slapping against the floor came before arms were around him. "You're home."

He found himself clinging to Mor, head buried into her neck. "Mor, what happened?" A deep voice came into the room followed by heavy foot steps. "Rhys? Az!" Mor pulled away, allowing Cassian to fall before Rhys and pull him into another tight hug. "Let's get you inside, brother."

Rhys allowed him to support him and move him into the living room. Shadows had begun to scurry, moving with a purpose as Azriel appeared in the room and then froze. He walked to Rhys as if he was seeing a ghost, his scarred hands holding his face before his own tears began to fall and they embraced.

"Why are we all gathered in the living room? Food is that-" Amren stopped mid sentence, dropping the flute of blood she was holding. Azriel released Rhysand, backing away to be held by Cassian as the ancient being approached. "Do not ever scare us like that again, boy."

Rhys couldn't help but to laugh and nod before feeling shocked as Amren buried her face into his chest and held him. The Inner Circle stood in silence and tears. Before the question Rhys had since landing finally came out of his mouth. His voice was broken, confidence leaving his body as he asked, "Where is my wife?"

—------------

Rhiannon was hunched over a desk. She was reading through countless reports that had suddenly shown up once the barrier broke.

She refused to go to dinner, choosing to instead distract herself with work. The House had tried pulling her chair from under her, a shadow had tried dragging her out of his office, and the faelights had flickered indicating to her someone had entered her home, but Rhiannon didn't move.

She'd rather work herself to death or starve than get her hopes up that her mate was finally home. She'd rather be burned on an Autumn Court Pyre than allow her heart to break any further than it had.

50 years. 50 long years without Rhysand. Without hearing his laugh. Without the smell of citrus and salt. Without feeling his hands on her body, his lips on hers. 50 years without hearing the sound of his voice. She was broken. Broken from the nightmares he unknowingly sent down the bond. Broken from his last words to her being a command to stay in the House of Wind. Broken from feeling the bond they had never closed grow colder than ice.

Another shadow came, Weaving into her hair to let her know her true brother, Azriel, was thinking of her. That he wanted her to come downstairs and eat. "Tell your master I will eat later. I'm busy reading 50 years of reports from Illyria."

—---------

Azriel sighed deeply, looking at Cassian and shaking his head. "She's going to work herself to death." Cassian whispered as they watched Rhys stare at her chair. "He needs her."

Azriel stood. "I will be right back." Rhysand shook his head, standing next.

"You stay. I'll go." He took his whiskey with him, moving out of the room. "I'll be back soon. I'll just pull rank on her."

—-------

Rhiannon sighed in annoyance as the door opened. "I told you I'd eat later, Az. Fuck off." Rhys watched her. Her long dark brown hair was falling in waves to her hips. Her hazel eyes were reading through paper after paper, marking things she had questions over before moving to the next.

She was wearing a beautiful black dress that dipped low in the front, allowing him a view of her tan skin, of her full breasts, her toned stomach. She was thinner than when he had left, causing his heart to ache. He sat across from her, slightly shocked when she didn't look up. He wanted to pull her into his lap, to hold her, to cry into her shoulder. But he would wait. Wait until they had spoken about the choices he made.

"Just say what you want to say and leave, Azriel. I'm genuinely not in the mood."

He chose then to open the bond. It flooded both of them, causing Rhiannon to drop the paper she was holding. "There's 50 years of things I'd like to say to you, wife." He took a sip of his whiskey as she was taking uneven breaths to try to regain stability from the emotions taking over her own. "I'd prefer to eat first though, and then we could speak later tonight at the River House. Away from everyone else." She gave him no reaction. Shock was sitting in the middle of their bond, blocking him from her feelings, her mind, her needs.

"Please come eat with us. I-" His eyes squeezed shut as her emotions began to hit him. Her longing, her love, her needs, her stresses. "I need us all to eat together. I need family dinner. The papers can wait. They've waited 50 years, darling."

Rhiannon stood, moving to be directly in front of her husband as he stood. She had not spoken. Hands shaking as she lifted them to touch his face before stopping. He realized slowly that she already knew. She knew what had happened to him. What he had done. "You were actually there in those dreams, weren't you?" His voice was broken as he tried to step away from her before her hands shot to his wrists. "Rhi-"

"Please don't pull away from me. I won't touch you without your permission. I'll do whatever you need. Just please don't do what I can feel you thinking about."

Rhys nodded. His own hands trembling as he laced their fingers together and took a deep breath. "It might be awhile, Rhiannon."

She shook her head rapidly. "I don't care. It doesn't matter as long as you are here. I'd wait forever for you." The sentence was all it took for him to pull her into his arms, releasing a sob of relief as she whispered how much she loved and adored him.

[btheleaf]

What made you like Pema? :3 Just out of curiosity, I feel like she's a character many people tend to kind of ignore or dislike.

Short answer: Spite

(Very) Long answer:

Tenzin was my first love and obsession when I got back into LOK. I went to AO3 to read about him and his wife! and found the attitudes towards Pemzin... odd? The ship is way less popular than Linzin, which was strange to me at the time, considering Pema/Tenzin are literally married in canon. But hey, whatever, to each their own. Maybe people just like Linzin more. Lin is a sexy badass, so I get it. Maybe people don't wanna write about the air babies. Maybe the age gap or any other countless things were giving people the ick about pemzin. Fine. It's all good to me. I began to look for pemzin fics to enjoy and found 🥲 strange things.

Pema was usually written as some kind of man-stealing demon with a magic coochie that could make Tenzin bend to her will and stay with her despite the fact that he loved Lin more, but at the same time she was a dumb and useless broodmare? More often than not, the Pema/Tenzin fics seemed to be written by people who didn't actually care for the ship and had Linzin endgame in mind.

I thought, "Okay, I'll check out Linzin, surely with way more fics to pick from, I'll find something that focuses on Lin/Tenzin and not Bad and Evil Pema."

I was disappointed to say the least.

So much cheating and lying, so many secret babies. SO MUCH Pema v. Lin, which doesn't do anything for me. I could understand it if there were Actual Reasons, but it was like Pema was showing up to be an emotional homewrecker despite her being IN HER OWN HOUSE. I just... like what the fuck is going on there?

Why does Pema hate Lin SO MUCH? Did the stories ever touch upon that? No. She just hates Lin. Obviously. Lin dated her husband 20 years ago, so she hates her. Logical. Much logic. No explanation. Look no further. Your bad guy is here. Bye-bye interesting concepts. Pema is a bitch and a snake and a man-trap and she never loved Tenzin anyway. She just wanted to be a trophy wife who ushered in a new generation of airbenders. No explanation. Don't question it. She's one-dimensional in a 3D world.

Pema is everyone's favorite bad guy in Linzin fics all because of that one line from Book one that is honestly super fucking cringe about her "seeing her soul mate with someone else." Linzin shippers asked if anyone was going to demonize this mother of four and didn't wait for an answer.

Both Pemzin and Linzin shippers need to learn how to tag their fics for both "emotional cheating" and just straight up "cheating." Navigating this shit is terrible. I once read 50k of a very interesting concept, and then all of a sudden Pema came out of nowhere and just started acting like a jealous 13 year old for no reason and Tenzin QUICKLY left her and the kids to go be with Lin. Like?? I do not understand what the fuck is going on in some people's minds.

WHERE WERE THE FICS THAT PAINTED PEMA AS A WHOLE HUMAN PERSON WITH FLAWS AND WANTS AND DESIRES??? I think most of my comments started having "thank you for writing Pema like a person" somewhere in them.

When I first made this blog and Let It Be Known that I ship pemzin, I got a looooooot of weird anons asking me stuff about like, if I support cheating and shit? I realized that these attitudes towards Pema were not Old Beliefs. These were very real people in the year of 2024 still unable to conceptualize an interesting idea for a character that has SO MUCH room to play with.

We know jack shit about her. We know just enough that makes her entire character like candy to me. She's not around a lot in the show, but also somehow is always still right there? She goes through Some Very Real Shit in every season, and her absence from screen time is like free real estate to fic writers. I literally don't understand how so many people manage to summarize her entire being into the word "snake" and move on. The potential for expanding on her character is limitless because of how little we know. The more people try to stuff her into a box, the more I'll pull her out of it.

I didn't really care about Pema until it became clear that everyone else disliked her. The more people hate her, the more I love her and the more powerful I become.

I'm like this because of how the fandom treats her.

[solar-salem]

" Could we ever go back? "

INCLUDES - Rinney / Finbin

Character included - Finney, Robin, Albert Shaw

TW - The Grabber / Albert Shaw

Pt 1

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As if the summer could get any worse for Robin.

Two months before summer break, he had gone and fucked everything up between Finney and him. One argument, one mistake, one action. Ruined it all. Robin asked himself.

"Could we ever go back?"

Now, he couldn't. Stuck in a basement with no one, and nothing. He laid back onto the bed, he had kept count of the days, how long he's been there. What the date was. He told himself it's what Finney would do if he were trapped in a basement.

The door latch clicked and Robin shot up. The door slowly opened, making that terrible screeching sound. The figure Robin had learned to hate, stood at the entrance. The man, who everyone called the Grabber, pulled something from under his arm. He threw it towards the boy.

"Robin Arellano, hm? That's such a nice name. Too bad it's not the one you told me." He sighed and paced back and forth in front of the door. "Why do all you boys lie about your names?" His voice was a higher pitch than it should have been. "I always find out anyways." His voice drops back to its lower tone.

"God, now I'm gonna have to do something. It's just gonna mess everything up," his voice went high. "but. It's the one thing you asked me not to do." Then back to low.

"What?" Robin snapped, his only reaction to the man. He didn't react when the newspaper came flying towards him, but that got him; because he asked one thing from this guy.

"Please don't take Finney."

He knew it was stupid to mention someone, but he couldn't bare to know that his best friend got taken. "Please- I'm sorry I lied, please just don't take him."

The Grabber shook his head, he didn't respond to him. He only backed into the staircase that led out of the basement. He shut the door behind him and flicked the light off.

Robin sat in the dark, he stared at the floor. Did he really just get his best friend taken? Or about to be taken? Surely he didn't know who Finney was, right? He was a quiet kid, kept to himself. Barely left the house unless needed to. Surely he couldn't find him.

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The click of the latch woke the sleeping Robin quickly, he had never been a heavy sleep, and he sure as hell wasn't going to be when he was under this freak.

The door kicked open and there was the figure, the same figure he has seen so many times, but. It was different. A different shape, he hadn't turned on the light like he normally did. "Move." The man said in his deeper voice.

Robin stood up and backed into the far right corner of the door. Right next to that damn phone.

The Grabber walked towards the bed, the little bit of light that came through the window shined onto the man, he was holding something- No someone.

Robin felt his heart drop once he realized who it was. The Grabber dropped the kid onto the mattress, he groaned. "My fucking arm, Arellano. He did a number on my fucking arm. He's lucky I didn't snap his neck the moment I got him into the van." He looked down at the kid.

Robin looked at the Grabber's face, the first time he had seen it fully since the first time he had gotten taken. The white face paint, the hat. The stupid outfit.

"I'll be back in a little bit to bring you two some good, maybe some soda? Do you think Finney would like soda, Robin?" Fuck, fuck fuck. No, he couldn't actually have gotten him, right? Robin asked himself. He looked down at the kid on the mattress, it was definitely Finney.

The Grabber went back to the door and slammed it shut, he knew the guy was absolutely pissed. Of course it would be Finney to stab the kidnapper.

Robin walked over to the bed and sat down next to it. "Finn?" He asked, hoping he'd wake up. Though, he highly doubted it. He looked completely out, along with not waking up to being thrown onto the bed or the slamming of the door.

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Hours passed and finally Finney woke up, he groaned as he looked around. Although his vision was limited to about two feet in front of him. He looked next to him to see a sleeping Robin, who had passed out waiting for Finney to wake up.

Finney felt his heart drop out his ass. "Robin?"

Robin opened his eyes and looked at Finney, he quickly shot up and wrapped his arms around him. A very late reaction occurred from Finney, it took a good few seconds to process that he was in a basement with his ex best friend.

Despite his fall out with Robin, he wrapped his arms right back around the other.

"I'm sorry Finn."

That's all Robin could manage to get out. He could feel the tears start to welt up in his eyes, but he couldn't cry. Not when he was supposed to be the tough one.

"I'm sorry too."

Robin heard back, despite it being in a low quiet voice.

Clapping was heard from the doorway, immediately Robin put his arm in front of Finney. He was still extremely protective of his best friend after all this time. Finney was still completely out of it, like he wouldn't be.

"Isn't that absolutely adorable?" The Grabber spoke. Robin glared at the man like he had so many times before.

"Jeez Robin, don't be so protective of the kid. I'm sure he could easily defend himself if needed." Robin glared more. "Like he did with his bullies?"

"How-" "Finn." The Grabber shook his head. "Let the kid speak for himself, or do you think he can't even do that? Just like how he couldn't defend himself from those bullies the week after I took you Robin."

Robin didn't usually respond to the guy, and now wasn't any different. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction of a response.

"Finney, you did a fucking number on my arm. I mean, the others. Kick a bit, try and punch. But stab? I've never been stabbed before." His voice didn't go into its higher pitch at all. Robin knew he was trying to be scary, and despite trying not to look it. Robin was fucking terrified.

"How are your eyes?" He asked, more sweetly. Just like how he asked Robin. "They.. Hurt." Finney mumbled, Robin turned and looked at him. "I bet, I'm going to go get you two soda." He smiled, though it couldn't be seen because of the mask he wore.

He backed through the door he always came through, closing it behind him. He didn't slam it this time, thankfully. It always bothered Robin when he slammed the door.

Finney backed away from Robin a bit.

"You've been here the entire time?"

Robin looked at him, he had been there for about a month. He had gotten taken at the very start of summer, he hated it. He was planning on apologising to Finney, to make everything better. Clearly, that's not how it ended. Instead of just going to Grab 'n go, he instead tried to go get some cheap candy from the guy.

"Yep, it's all my fault Finn." As much as he didn't want to cry, he couldn't help it. The tears just started to fall. "All my fuckin' fault, Finn."

Finney stared at him, his vision was too blurry to see the tears. "What? What is?"

"You being taken! I told him why I was going to buy candy from him, I mentioned you because it was for you! Then.. Then he took me and I begged him not to take you. Then.. He took you anyway."

Finney just stared at him. "You were buying candy for me? Why? Why did you ask him not to take me?" He asked, he was so very confused and Robin's rambling didn't help.

"Because I was going to apologize. I wanted to be friends again, so I was planning a hang out, and I told him not to take you because he told he was. Whenever I did something stupid and apparently the last thing I did was the last straw."

"What did you.. Do?" Robin looked away. "I didn't tell him my actual name and he found out. Finn, I'm sorry.."

"It's whatever. Sorry you got taken because of me." Robin stared at the other, he definitely shouldn't have been the one to say sorry. It was all Robin's fault, so he kept telling himself, and he wouldn't stop blaming himself.

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And that's a cliffhanger :) hrhrhr

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM STEP BROTHERS *  assorted dialogue from the 2008 film

this house is a fucking prison!

we're in the bathroom!

i don't believe in belts.

it usually starts by you telling me a little something about yourself.

i'm going to take a pillowcase and fill it full of bars of soap and beat the shit out of you.

this wedding is horse shit.

you guys have an outstanding track record.

i was faking. i used ninja focus to slow my heart rate down.

i smoked pot with johnny hopkins.

you're not gonna come down and say hi to me?

i thought we'd begin talking about your parents' divorce.

i want you out of my fucking house!

i just want you to know i hate you.

oh stop it!

i dont have to swear to shit!

you must feel just terrible.

i owe you an apology.

you gotta keep an eye on it.

you take that back.

we do it because we love you.

hey, can i ask you something?

this is my house now.

what do we do now?

you're failures!

i wasn't fired from my job. i was laid off.

whoa, calm down, man. i'm just joking.

you know what? i still hate you.

you were dead. i saw you die.

sweet jesus! i love korean food!

maybe someday we could become friends.

do you wanna do karate in the garage?

we could hug.

i didn't want the salmon! i said four times!

it sounds a lot like the plot of good will hunting.

how old were you when they got divorced?

why are you so sweaty?

this is what i live with!

this is just like cold case files!

get out of my face, or i'm gonna roundhouse your ass.

was that a fart?

in no way, shape, or form do i feel any feelings of intimacy towards you in any way whatsoever.

what if i were to tell you i could sell this house for 30% above market?

oh, i'm exhausted.

well that's fine.

i always wanted to be a dinosaur.

i can taste it on my tongue.

we're here to fuck shit up!

on the count of three, name your favorite dinosaur.

i swear, i'm so pissed off at my mom.

i remember my first beer.

we can bicker about this all night, but what's done is done.

i would follow you into the mists of avalon.

shut the fuck up!

you're alive! oh my god!

my little brother is even a bigger asshole than you are.

i'm just saying, you need to think about your options.

i'm not gonna call him dad.

did you touch my drum set?

he had the craziest look in his eyes.

you have the voice of an angel.

believe me, i've told him that.

hey, you're embarrassing yourself!

do you want to talk about some of those feelings?

we like to shit with the door open.

guess what? i hate you too.

now the tuxedos seem kind of fucked up.

you better not go to sleep, 'cause as soon as your eyes shut, i'm gonna punch you square in the face.

stop being a fucking dinosaur and get a job.

hey, you awake?

are you fucking crazy, man?

you're not feeling this?

i tea-bagged your drumset.

i know you two are technically married.

i'm not going to! ever!

my best friend is ben affleck.

look, i didn't touch your drum set.

okay, i'll be honest with you. i did fart.

you know what's good for shoulder pain?

we're putting the house on the market.

don't even think about it.

what's your problem?

i would've done the exact same thing.

did we just become best friends?

i feel like i'm smarter than most of the people who go there.

you and your mom are hillbillies.

it stinks. and this is a small room.

obviously... you don't know me.

my penis is tingling right now.

we make our own beef jerky.

you better not get in my face.

where are we moving?

ready? one, two, three.

i think it's time for a change. for both of us.

your voice is like a combination of fergie and jesus.

i know that we started out as foe.

i've seen him do it.

this house sucks ass.

the clown has no penis.

we are living the dream.

i'm just thinking about our life together.

what kind of dreams are you having?

shut up!

it was in international waters, so they couldn't prosecute him.

i hope you stay still when you sleep, 'cause i'm gonna put a rat trap between your legs.

why do you have randy jackson's autograph on a martial arts weapon?

you leave me money for pizza?

well what about us?

we literally have never done any of those things.

what's this all about?

shut your mouth!

what the fuck happened?

[qqueenofhades]

34 "I won't let this happen." With season 1 garcy? Only you want of course!!!💖💖💖

34. "I won't let this happen."

The lingering rush in the air after the Lifeboat has disappeared -- Wyatt, Rufus, and Jiya all looking at Lucy as if they fully expect to never see her alive again -- is still echoing in the warehouse, stirring up swirls of dust, and making the Mothership rock ever so slightly on its struts. Lucy stands there looking at it, really looking at it. She had a brief and unpleasant ride in it out of 1780, after Flynn kidnapped her from the Rittenhouse house of horrors, but at the time, she was too beside herself with grief and rage and fear to actually take it in. Doubtless the others were disappointed in her lack of tactical thinking, but that's all beside the point now. She's just volunteered to ride back in it with Flynn again -- Flynn and his mysterious, mercurial pilot, Emma, who's leaning against the white plasteel wall and looking at Lucy appraisingly. For some reason, her gaze feels cold. That, or --

"Well," Flynn says roughly, making Lucy jump. She hasn't heard him come up behind her, but there he is, looking as if this is something he'd rather get over with as soon as possible. "Are we going?"

"Soon as you say so, boss." Emma tips a casual salute and saunters up the steps of the time machine, vanishing inside to prepare for the jump. Lucy looks after her, still unable to shake the odd sensation that Emma doesn't like her. Then another possibility occurs to her, and she flinches. It doesn't seem terribly likely, what with the way Flynn has been so single-mindedly hellbent to avenge his murdered wife and daughter, but no man is an island, and all that. The two of them -- do they have some kind of secret thing, and Emma is upset about Lucy moving in to disrupt this cozy synergy, romantic or otherwise? Or --

"What?" Flynn says. "Are you having second thoughts about putting your life in the hands of this monster?"

"No." Lucy turns around to meet his eyes. As usual, she has to tip her head back to an inordinate degree. He really needs to be less good at reading her, picking up on all her unspoken hesitations and fears -- but why should this be a fear? It's nothing to her if Flynn and Emma are engaging in a little extracurricular activities. She has this fragile maybe-maybe-not possibility with Wyatt, and that's all that she cares about. Flynn is -- Flynn, this dangerous, reckless, violent, bruised, heartbroken, angry, brave, beautiful man, who has taken no heed of time and space in his quest to bring justice for his loved ones -- after all we've been through, she asked him back in 1780, wondering why on earth he wouldn't just go back to his family and unconsciously accounting them as one thing, one unit, fighting the same war even on different sides, but suddenly she wonders if it is --

"No," she repeats, for emphasis. "And I told you, I don't think you're a monster. I meant it then, and I meant it now."

Flynn's hooded eyes flicker, terse and unreadable. Then he nods once, tightly, and starts across the sawdust floor to the Mothership, Lucy trotting in his wake. At the open door, Flynn stops. "I'll get you back safely," he says, as if perhaps she might like to hear it spoken explicitly aloud. "But I'll expect the favor to be returned. If fucking Denise Christopher or one of your other interfering goverment friends decides to lay a trap and grab me -- "

"It won't," Lucy says, before she can stop herself or think better of the impulsive promise. "I won't let that happen."

Flynn's dark eyes search hers, shuttered and wary but still, instinctively, after all this, trusting her. I prayed to God for guidance, for answers, and He led me here. To this.

And Lucy's own voice answering, so easily, just as unthinkingly, because it was only the simple and obvious truth. What if He led you to me?

It turns her cold from head to toe, in a way she can't explain or understand. Whatever it is, whatever they are, there is some red thread of fate woven between them without a doubt, and she can't entirely push aside the part of her that wants to pull. How does Flynn have her journal? How is it that one word from her can still soothe his wrath and fury and make him listen like she's the only thing that matters in the world? Who is he? Who, who?

"Come on," Flynn says, stepping onto the ladder. "Better get you back before your horrible little friends decide that I have killed you."

"They're not that bad," Lucy protests, as Flynn stops short, holds out a brusque hand to help her up, and by reflex, she takes it. It is large and strong and steady as a rock, and it boosts her up into the glittering white interior of the Mothership as if that, as if this, was what they were always meant to do. "They just -- "

Flynn snorts, expressing his utter uninterest in hearing it, and Lucy stops. They reach the cabin and sit down in the stylish black crash-foam seats, pulling the straps over their heads. Once more, she looks at him sidelong, feeling the weight of conversations unfinished, words unsaid. But she can't say what she wants to in front of Emma, and maybe, just maybe, there will be other meetings like this, where they're not fighting or trying to kill each other. Just.... talking.

Lucy leans her head back, closes her eyes, and braces herself. She isn't sure why she briefly feels like she's close to tears, but it's been an emotional day, that's all. Flynn, and Ethan Cahill, and her desperate hopes for what they'll find when they get back home. If this is the end of Rittenhouse, finally and forever. Maybe then they can return to the future, not the past. Whatever it is, she wants Flynn to be there. She does. And maybe, maybe, he still wants the same.

She can hear him breathing. She wants to look. She doesn't.

In a moment more, they jump.

[fic prompts]

[luxe-pauvre]

May I ask a follow-up question (different anon though) regarding the situation in the UK. There has been a lot going on politically, with the queen, inflation, brexit. Has that impacted you in any way (you do not need to go into specifics or personal of course, don't want to make you feel uncomfortable). But more in the general sense of you as a student, a young individual, someone who will enter the job market soon, is looking for a house. How is the overall feeling for the younger generation, have they been impacted by this all?

I myself am from Belgium, so you know, we have been impacted by inflation, gas prices, a terrible housing market etc.

I'll try and keep this brief and factual, but it may turn into a long and emotional rant.

I'm currently sat in my Mother and her husband's home as I’m visiting. They are a slightly above national average double income household. I'm wearing two blankets because turning the heating on is out of the question. Thanks to the latest government actions that rocketed mortgage rates in the past week, as it stands they will lose their home in the next six months and will have to move to a mobile home park.

In my single person full time PhD student with a part time job household, my monthly food bill has gone up by 50% and my monthly electricity bill has gone up by 133%. My PhD stipend will not increase as I'm funded by a charity and they've told their students an increase is not possible. Luckily, at the beginning of the year I changed part time jobs and had a fairly substantial pay rise. This pay rise has been totally swallowed by all of the cost increases which is disappointing, the possibility of saving part of it is probably gone, but if it doesn't get any worse I can suck it up without much change to my lifestyle.

Looking ahead, I'm seriously considering totally changing career track at the end of my PhD and cashing in my three Russell Group degrees for a consultancy/analyst type job that will make me deeply unhappy, but at least I'll be financially well.

I laughed out loud when I read 'looking for a house' as the chance of me ever owning a home is very close to zero unless, 1. I completely change career track, and 2. my Father, who owns a property he won't lose in this mess, first of all doesn't change his will to leave it to his soon-to-be wife (who will definitely outlive me) and then dies a sudden and unexpected early death (he will also likely outlive me otherwise). If both of those things happened, potentially the combination of a larger income from a different career and the sale of an inherited property might make it an option. I had a rather depressing conversation at work a few weeks ago in which we all agreed our only remote hope of property ownership is the untimely death of our parents which is incredibly morbid, and that only applies to those whose parents do own property.

Bizarrely in all this, the Queen dying was a two week reprieve. Apart from all the transport chaos in the city, which was a bit of a nightmare for those of us who live there, at least the government were "in mourning" and so they couldn't make anything worse.

As to how all this feels for the younger generations, I think the overarching feeling is that we're trapped. The illusion that if you ‘do the right thing’ or if you just ‘work hard’ things will get better is utterly smashed. Brexit now makes leaving the country entirely much more difficult, and if you're like me and you have chronic health conditions you're also somewhat tied to the NHS (which itself is only just about functioning), and so even if you could meet a particular countries immigration terms ensuring proper access to healthcare becomes a big factor/issue. The tide does finally seem to be turning politically, and maybe we'll get a more socially responsible government at the next election, but even if we do they will have to spend their entire term tidying up this mess before they get a chance at any kind of progress.

Disclaimer: this was not meant to be a pity party answer, I'll be fine, there are people in much worse situations than me in the UK and especially world over. But that being said, it doesn't make any of what's happening here, one of the seven richest countries in the world, right or less emotionally salient to those experiencing it.

[thedaredevilsgirl]

Chapter Two - Vibrating

Warning: Smut (vibrator use, fingering and dirty talk)

Word count: 1,817

I'm starting to think I'm terrible at writing smut, but I swear I'm trying to improve. I hope you like it

You and Tom have always been close, everyone knew that, but after the events of the last week it seemed that you were even closer. He was always waiting for you so you could go to campus together, walking you to your class and taking you to the library before you went back to the fraternity.

"Megan said she is waiting for me in front of the library and can take me home later, so you don't have to wait for me today." You say to Tom as they walked to the library.

"Are you sure honey?"

"Yeah, see you later" you turn to look at him.

"Can I come to your room tonight?" He asks with a mischievous smile on his face.

Every time he smiled like that it made you nervous, you nod your head positively and he steps closer tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear before bending down a little to be your size and whispering.

"I can't wait to touch you again angel," you feel your whole body shiver at those words.

Tom leaves a kiss on your forehead and goes in the opposite direction from you.

When you turn to enter the library you see Megan with her arms crossed in front of her body looking at you suspiciously, you approach her and she pulls you inside the library quickly making you sit on one of the tables and sitting in front of you.

"You're going to tell me everything that's going on right now," she commands.

"What are you talking about Megan? Nothing is going on" you try to cover it up.

"Y/N I'm not an idiot, why are you and Tom suddenly so close?"

"We've always been close" you answer as if it's obvious.

"Yes, because he is your brother's best friend, but now you are acting like a couple, like you are fucking...OH MY GOD YOU ARE FUCKING" some people who were inside look at the two of you angrily.

"Keep your voice down please, and no, we are not fucking...not yet at least."

"Oh my god, what do you mean not yet?" She asks agitated.

"I asked him to teach me how to fuck" you say softly and embarrassed "he said yes and maybe he gave me a oral earlier in the week" you admit all at once.

She puts her hands over her mouth to avoid screaming again, and you can see the excitement in her eyes.

"Finally you're doing something about your feelings," she says with a smile.

"I don't have feelings for him" "A seriously" she rolls her eyes" You have liked him since first grade and he likes you too, you just never did anything because your idiot brother would kill him"

"That's not true" he tries to defend himself and she just looks at him with disdain.

"You can literally feel the sexual tension between the two of you."

"Anyway, it's just sex Megan, nothing else is going to happen, I just need the experience." You say. She suddenly gets up from the table again drawing glances at both of you.

"Get up" she says quickly grabbing her things.

"What? Why? I thought we were going to study".

"No, we're going shopping".

•─────✧─────•─────✧─────•

When your friend Megan said you were going shopping, you thought she was talking about going to some clothing store, but that's not what happened.

"Why are we here?" You ask Megan as soon as she has you enter a sex shop getting a blush as you look at the things there.

"I just thought since you started your sex life you might want a few things" She says laughing.

"If I had known you were going to act this way I wouldn't have told you" you roll your eyes "can we please leave".

"No, come on Y/N, have some fun, I know this isn't really your thing, but I guarantee that once you try it you will like it, you just need to give it a chance" she speaks while looking for something specific in the store.

"Try what exactly?" "

Here" she takes something from one of the shelves before turning to you again "try this on" she puts the box in your hand.

"No, no way" you turn red as you hold the small box of bal vibrator in your hand.

"Y/N, think along with me, you tonight, going into Tom's room and saying you want him to use this on you" she points to the vibrator.

You can picture exactly the scene perfectly and it sounds wonderful.

"I'm sure you'll kill him with a hard-on just by suggesting it, and you'll still have a wonderful orgasm, so...will you try it?" She ask.

"Ok, fine" you give in.

"Great" she smiles "don't worry, I'll pay, thank me after Holland makes you cum".

•─────✧─────•─────✧─────•

You ran to your room as soon as you arrived at the fraternity, only to take the vibrator out of the box and clean it, You also changed your lingerie for one that you had just bought. You wanted to impress Tom a little tonight.

As soon as you get dressed again and hide the small vibrator in the pocket of your sweatshirt you finally make your way to Tom's room.

"May I come in?" You ask knocking on Tom's bedroom door.

"Hey" he says as he opens the door and gives you room to enter "I was just on my way to your room, I thought you'd be here early" he locks the door.

"Megan and I decided to do some shopping" you say smiling and sit down at the study table.

"Did you buy anything interesting?" You ask curious.

"Yeah, I mean we went to some cool stores, forever 21, Gap, Victoria Secrets and Megan took me to a sex shop" you say as if it wasn't something interesting and Tom looks at you surprised.

"Megan took you where? He asks, maybe he had heard you wrong.

"To a sex shop," you shrug.

"Why?" he asks walking over to you and standing between your legs.

"I wanted to see something" you say a little nervously taking the small vibrator from your pocket "actually I wanted to try something"

"What?" Just imagining you going to a sex shop made Tom horny.

"I want you to use this on me" she puts the dildo in his hand.

He sighs as he looks at the vibrator and soon after he is kissing you desperately, his hands grip your waist tightly pulling you closer to his body.

Your shirt is the first to be removed and he stops for a moment just to look at your body, trapping his lower lip between his lips when he sees the red lingerie on your body.

"Do you like it?" He asks running his fingers gently over the strap of the bra "I bought it with you in mind."

"I think it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen." He helps you remove your skirt without you having to get off the table.

"Can you take your shirt off too, please?" He smiles and removing his shirt, his hand touches your abdomen the direction before pulling you in for another kiss.

His fingers touch the inside of her thigh trailing towards her intimacy, both fingers touch the delivery catching the wetness and he brings them to his mouth closing his eyes as he feels her taste again on his tongue. His breathing fails, you never thought you would see anything hotter than this.

"Are you sure you want to try this baby?" He asks to make sure it felt comfortable.

"Yes, please."

He finally takes the vibrator and turns it on at the lowest speed.

First he slides it down the length of your neck stopping the vibrations right at your pulse point, you close your eyes and feel him moving further down, from the top of your breasts to your nipples making them hard against the lacy fabric of your bra.

"Stop teasing me, please," you plead, and he just smiles.

The vibrations travel down your belly and you feel your breath hitch as he reaches for the bar of your panties, he looks at you for confirmation and you say yes.

The vibrator finally touches your clit and you feel like you might die, but the vibrations are turned off soon after. You look at Tom trying to understand why he had stopped.

"Don't worry honey, just getting it out of the way" he says pulling your panties off your body.

He turns the vibrator back on and puts it in contact with your clit, he moves it down into your folds teasing your wet entrance, sighing you throw your head back feeling the pleasure in your body. Tom leans only his body on yours and leaves wet kisses on your neck.

"Tom, please" you moan gripping the curly locks of your hair tightly

"I need more". He chuckles against her neck before bringing the vibrator again to her clit along with his thumb making a circular motion.

"Don't stop please" she pleads.

"You don't know how beautiful your moans are love" he whispers to you and lets a light bite on your earlobe increasing the speed of the vibrator.

"Fuck, Thomas, I'm going to..." You close your eyes tightly feeling a tasty sensation in the pit of your stomach indicating that you were about to cum.

"I got you angel, cum for me".

Your body obeys his command and you come with a loud scream of his name, he turns off the vibrator but continues with the finger movements until you come down from orgasm.

You hug him tiredly letting your head fall on his shoulder, he quickly picks you up in his lap and lays you on his bed.

"Are you okay?" He asks pulling your hair out of your face.

"Yes, thank you."

"You need to stop thanking me for this" he smiles.

"Never, not until you stop giving me orgasms" she laughs a little before closing her eyes.

He lies down next to her hugging her body and sleeping next to her for the first time.

•─────✧─────•─────✧─────•

You wake up the next morning alone in Tom's bed, desperate to get out of there and not be caught by your brother, and sneak out of the room quietly.

When you are finally ready for your day and go downstairs to the kitchen you see Tom and Harrison having coffee alone since the other guys in the house were slow to wake up.

"Did you sleep well?" Harrison asks as soon as you enter the kitchen.

"Yes" you put the coffee in the cup and sit down next to him "Very well" you say looking at Tom.

"And you?" he asks Tom "did you bring any girls home last night?"

"What do you mean?"

"Dude, your room is next to mine, I heard all the moaning" Harrison says laughing and you choke lightly on your coffee "Don't stop, Oh Thomas, keep going I'm going to cum" you say imitating a female voice.

"Did you hear everything?" Tom asks nervously.

"Yeah, I don't know who the girl was, but I hope you made her cum at least," he says debauched.

"Yes, I did" he says smugly giving a cocky wink.

He walks past you to put the cup in the sink and when Harrison is not looking he whispers in your ear.

"And I hope for several more".

TAGLIST

@cherryobx

@a-daydreamers-day

@bevanbexley5252

@multihoee

@storybookholland

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Good Girl, Bad Boy (Pt. 02 of 15)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 2.3 K

Summary: You're the extreme opposite of Billy Hargrove. The good girl, with perfect grades, the child every mother wants to have. And you don't want to have nothing to do with his kind. Ignoring Billy – and his constant, lingering stare – became an habit. But after you're put together for a special school program, you'll have no choice but to get along with him. And soon enough you'll find out that Billy is so much more than just Hawkins' bad boy.

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{Stranger Things Masterlist}

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

×

Growing Closer

You find Billy walking away from his locker, ready to go home. He's alone this time, and you heard something about Stacy being mad at him. You wonder what he did to her. Or if he just got tired and is now aiming for someone else.

“Hargrove.” You call when you're closer enough to be heard. Billy turns around immediately, and you both stop in the middle of the hall. “Do you happen to have some time? We need to discuss the calendar.”

“Sure.” He simply says, and it's clear to you he's pissed off already. He was forced into the program, so it's only normal he doesn't want to do that.

“We can hit the library. It remains open for two hours after class.” You can't help but notice some people staring. But that isn't a surprise. You and Billy are as different as day and night, and nobody expects to see you two talking.

“Sure.” He repeats, and a fun expression crosses his face before he steps aside, gesturing for you to walk.

Chuckling, you furrow your eyebrows, starting to make your way to the library.

You know the place by heart since you're here at least three times a week. Waving at the teacher who stays in the reception, you pick a table in the back, so your chattering won't bother anyone. Taking a seat, you watch as Billy settles down across from you.

It's a little weird at first, and a silence falls in between you two. You suddenly realize you've been staring at him, way too focused on his blue eyes. You didn't know Billy's eyes were so beautiful. But you quickly clear your throat, searching on your bag for your notebook.

“I made you this planner.” Pulling the paper sheet off the notebook, colorful by many different marker colors, you slide it over to him. Billy's eyes fall on it immediately, eyebrows raising. “It's just to help you keep up with everything until the end of the year. More stuff will probably be add, but don't worry, I'll let you know.”

“You have everything figured out, don't you?” He finally speaks up, holding the paper in his hands.

“I know you don't want to do this. But this is senior year and you're almost free. Just a little longer and this will be over.” Offering him a small smile, you put a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I won't repeat the year. My grades are enough to get me through.” He sounds a little angry, and you sigh.

You don't know what to say to make him cooperate if he doesn't want to. “Look, you can't get out of the Improvement Program. But you can pick another tutor. So if you want, I have a list of everyone who's still available and maybe if there's someone you already know or happen to be friends with–” As you speak, you start looking in your bag for the small blueish paper. “–you just have to talk to Mrs Martinez and–”

“I want you to be my tutor.” His voice startles you since it's a little too loud and because of the silence, it echoes a bit. “But just because I know you're the smartest person in this school.”

Biting your lip, you nod, not sure how you feel about his compliment. “Thanks... I try.”

“You freaking succeed,” Billy mutters, cupping his hands above the table.

There's heat creeping through your cheeks so you look away, bringing back to mind what else you must talk to him about. “So, the next project is a presentation on History about World War I. Our part is about the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand, the invasion of Bosnia and Herzegovina, and the July crisis. The happenings before the war was set.”

“Great.”

“Shhh.” Someone says, and you look at a small group of people on your left.

“You shut up, asshole.” Billy raises his voice a little, and you look at him with wide eyes.

“Hey. Don't say that.” You warn him, giving the boy an apologetic look. “We're at a library, we're supposed to be quiet.”

“Excuse me.” Mr Williams comes, standing a few feet away. “Some students are complaining about your chattering, so I'll have to ask you to leave, please.”

“Oh...” Blushing a little, you start gathering your stuff. “Sorry, Mr Williams. We'll leave.” Billy is just about to say something when you give him a look.

You're quickly outside again, fixing the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “We...” Moving out of the way of some people heading to the library, you set into his pace, walking side by side. “We'll need some time to work on everything. So we can switch between your place and mine because doing things in the library won't work.” You feel a little shy to propose this, but it's not a big deal. You'll be doing this until the end of the year, so it's quite inevitable. “If that's ok with you, of course.”

“We should hit your place then. My father is home today, so... It just won't work.” There's a change in his voice, and you glance at him.

“My mother is home too. But she won't bother us.” Walking a little faster, you gesture at your car. “Just follow me.”

Billy nods, and you smile, giving him a little wave.

The school is empty, and so are the streets around it, so you have no trouble speeding away. Keeping your eyes on the review mirror, it only takes twenty minutes to get to your house, so you park on your usual spot, stepping out of the car and waiting for Billy to do the same. When he finally joins you on the porch, you move to unlock the door.

Billy couldn't help but feel lucky to be at her place. He never thought he'd come here, under any circumstances. Trying not to let her notice, he allows his eyes to wander a little as she opens the door, taking in the place (Y/N) calls home. It has a weird feeling for him, almost as if the place is sacred, somewhere he wasn't supposed to be.

“My mother is nice. But she may say some embarring stuff so... Be prepared.” Following her inside, Billy notices as her mother looks at them, eyes going a little wide to see him. He wonders if she isn't used to her daughter bringing boys home. Knowing (Y/N), he knows she's not. “Mom, this is Billy Hargrove. I told you about him yesterday, remember? From the Improvement Program.”

She told her mother about him. So yes, she was thinking about him. Maybe just for a couple of seconds, maybe just as someone she knows, who she has told to help. But it doesn't matter. (Y/N) was thinking about him, and for now, it's enough.

“Of course.” She stands up, coming to give her daughter a quick hug and shake Billy's hand. “I'm Amanda. (Y/N)'s mother.”

“It's good to meet you, Mrs–”

“Call me Amanda kid, or else I feel terribly old.” She jokes, kindly smiling. “I believe you'll be hanging around here a lot because of school. But don't worry, I won't get in your way.”

“Thanks, mom. We'll be in the dining room.” (Y/N)'s light touch on his forearm is enough to make him shot her a glance, almost too desperate, something in him wanting to ask her why she did such a thing. Billy curses himself as he follows her to the dining room for feeling so stupid. It's just a freaking touch. On his freaking arm. And she wasn't even giving it much thought.

As Billy settles down on the table, (Y/N) moves the centerpiece to the edge so they'll have more space. “Do you want anything? Water? Or some chips? I happen to have some.”

Her voice sends Billy into some kind of stupor. A guy like him shouldn't feel this way. (Y/N) is just a girl, and he had many. But none of them ever made him feel like this. Like his heart is trying to jump off his chest. After a year, he did think he got over it. But he was wrong. Billy didn't want to be this close to (Y/N), always watching her from a safe distance. But this stupid school had to put them together, so damn close. Look at him now, seated on her dining table, staring at her like a complete idiot.

Just because she offered him water and freaking chips.

“Water is nice.” He mumbles, eyes on her back as she walks away, passing behind his chair. A sweet scent irradiates from her. Like flowers, he doesn't know which one though, like freaking sunshine.

Laughing at his stupidity, Billy looks down at his hands. How can someone smell like sunshine? It's illogical.

“Get it together, she's just a girl,” Billy says to himself, resting his back against the chair and taking his jacket off, laying on the chair next to him. Girls are nothing new to him. He had they all figured out, their ways, how to break them, how to please them, how to bend them to his will.

But not (Y/N).

A nice girl like her is immune to his tricks. And that's good because if she wasn't, it would mean she could also fall on someone's traps. Like Tommy, or Jimmy, or Jackson. The very thought of those assholes with her, touching, caressing, kissing... It disgusts him, and he's quick to push such images away.

“Did you say something?” (Y/N) asks, coming back from the kitchen and handing him a glass with cold water. Once she's close enough, he takes a deep breath, and her sweet scent almost drives him mad.

She's not a girl for you, get it together. “No.” He mumbles, taking long sips before putting the glass down. “So what now?” He sounds a little rude, so he immediately clears his throat after, eyes on (Y/N) as she takes a seat next to him on the round table instead of across from him. Billy finds it odd, but he's thankful for the proximity. This way, he can be surrounded by her candy-like scent, trying to memorize it so he could play it back later. When he's into the nightmare he calls home.

You're just about to start, History books already on the table, since you'll begin with the presentation, notebooks and papers so you can take notes, but then you look at Billy. There's a bruise on the apple of his cheek that you haven't noticed it before.

“Did you get into a fight?” You ask, leaning slightly forward to take a better look.

“What?” There's a moment of confusion on his face before it changes. “Yeah.”

“Did you win?”

“In a way.” It doesn't look like he'll say anything else.

“Well, if someone punches you, make sure to beat them up.” Smiling a little, you take the History book, opening it on chapter 7. “What exactly do you know about–”

“Are you still dating Steve?”

The question takes you by surprise, making you nervously giggle. “Why are you asking me that?”

“Just curious.” He shrugs his shoulders, tilting his head to the side. “Saw you two talking earlier today and he wouldn't be happy to know we'll be around each other a lot.”

“Steve is my friend. We dated last year but only for two months.” Avoiding Billy's eyes, you go through the book, not really paying attention to anything. You can feel his stare, and for some reason, your cheeks start heating up.

“Who broke up with who?”

Chuckling, you turn your body towards him. “Why do you want to know, Billy?” Maybe he's just trying to procrastinate. “Because if you're just trying to delay things I–”

“No, I really want to know.” He leans forward, pulling the book closer to him. “You and Harrington don't fit together, so I was surprised to see you hanging out with him last year.”

“Steve and I got pretty close when he dropped the jerk act. And we were both single so we decided to give it a try.” The only reason you're telling Billy this is because it's not a secret. Some people know and they probably didn't put any effort into keeping it hidden. “But it didn't click. We were dating but it wasn't really romantic, so...” You smile to remember it, and the memory that comes back is definitely a secret. Nancy is the only one who knows, her and Steve, obviously. But you guess it's ok to tell Billy, it's quite funny. And silly. “We... We never really kissed, you know?”

“What?” His voice startles you, and the genuine confusion on his face only makes you laugh. “You're joking.”

“I'm not, and if this gets out, I'll know it was you.” With a finger pointing at his face, you fake a threatening face. “So keep it between us or else.”

Pinching his eyebrows together, Billy seems amused. “Or else what?” His voice gets lower, as he leans closer.

“Or else I'll have no choice but to make out with Steve in front of the whole school.” In a sassy tone, you smile, biting your tongue not to laugh at his expression. Billy is... Impressed? Surprised, maybe. Something tells you he wasn't expecting this answer.

“Ew. Please don't.”

“Then don't tell anyone.” Shrugging your shoulders, you pull your feet up, crossing your legs on the chair. “Now, C'mon. World War I.”

“One more question and we get to it.” As he speaks, you feel him pulling your hand away from the notebook, forcing you to give him attention. “Why in the hell didn't you and Steve–”

“We kissed. I mean, those quick kisses, you know. Like when you say hi or goodbye. Just a peck in the lips. But that was it.”

“That was it?”

“That was it.” Giggling again, you assure him. Why is it so important to him anyway? “Now, can we start?”

You watch as Billy's eyes remain on you, burning, lingering. After a while, his lips break into a smile and he looks down at the book, shaking his head lightly. “Let's start.”

×

@multific @clockworkballerina @tina1938 @graciehams @moatsnow @all-the-stars-on-your-skin

[kevin--of-desert-bluffs]

WTNV Quick Rundown - 45 - A Story About Them

Instead of taking a break from these to do the novel when the time comes, I think I will just do these as well as parts of the novel together each weekend. It might take a while of going through the novel to collect something which can be posted anyway~

This is a story about them, says the man on the radio. And you are concerned, because this is not a story you were ever supposed to hear. Welcome to Night Vale.

This episode is told from the perspective of The Man who is Not Tall (MNT) and The Man who is Not Short (MNS) as they engage in whatever business it is that they do.

This includes: kidnapping a man as he leaves his house (but the man is not important we are told, don't worry about it) and taking him to a warehouse where they are also storing crates.

There, they are met by their supervisor, who is not happy. She explains to them that their job was simple - steal buildings from the city under the bowling alley, put them in crates and hide them in warehouses in the desert. They did not want the tiny city to declare war on the 'upper people' in the name of their god Huntocarr, even if the tiny people haven't really realised who it specifically was stealing their buildings.

Their supervisor says that somebody has to be blamed. MNT and MNS take the blindfolded man into the desert. There, the MNT kills the MNS with a knife. It is softly hinted before this that the MNS knew this would be happening. The blindfolded man then becomes the new MNS. This seems to be how things go and have been going with whatever job these two have since forever.

Halfway through, Cecil changes his story for a short while (he himself doesn't even know why, once more hinting that maybe Cecil has some kind of powers...I mean, how is he even seeing all of this in real time?).

The story is briefly about Dana, wandering the desert otherworld. Dana is travelling with the giant masked warriors. On the horizon they can see a Smiling God of terrible power and appetite. In this word, it appears as a vast light which devours all those within it, but Cecil tells us it does not always appear as a light though the effect of devouring is always the same. It is coming closer to them and they know that they will have to face it, everyone everywhere will have to face it.

Weather: "Pretty Little Head" by Eliza Rickman, elizarickman.com

In NV, there is at least one crossword to which all the answers are 'teeth'.

There is a place called Coyote Corners in NV which is a quiet development of old tract homes.

They also see the dark planet lit by no sun briefly in the sky.

There is an industrial area which was set aside by City Council to be such, and they always carry ribbons with them to open places.

Sunrises are sometimes loud in NV.

City Hall is now covered with a yellow trap stamped with an orange triangle, casually showing Strex's growing influence on NV.

This has been a story about them. The radio moves on. News. Traffic. Political opinions, and corrections to political opinions. But somewhere in the desert, there is one person who does not move on. This was also a story about him. Stay tuned next for as long as you can, until you cannot stay tuned anymore. Good night, Night Vale. Good night.

Proverb: Knock knock! Who's there? Orange. Orange who?

Orange you glad I didn't say your mother's in the hospital. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, is there anything I can do? Listen I'll drive you over there, we'll leave right now, grab a coat it's a little cold out, I'm so sorry.

[newtonsheffield]

It's still Sunday here but I fear I'm too late! I was gonna request in honour of Luke T's birthday - maybe it's Benedict's first birthday in the couple and Sophie has no idea what to get a man who has everything (even though he's said he doesn't want anything) and so she's like 'fuck it, i'll reward him with some hanky panky then'?? No worries if not, i know I'm late!! :)

Hmmm Yes, I'm afraid it is Monday morning now for me, But why don't we break the rules just once hey? You asked so nicely, And it is the boy's birthday after all.

So here's Sophie Beckett, giving it the old Sheffield Don't know what to buy you so let's smush.

Again, as most of the bad idea's in Sophie's life seemed to be these days, this was Kate's fault.

She had complained to Kate that she had absolutely no idea what to buy a Man who already had everything. Or, if he didn't have it, he went out and bought it straight away. Absolutely no thought or consideration between the I want and I now own stages of purchasing. And the worst part was, he'd told her not to get him anything. And Kate, heavily pregnant at the time had gestured to herself a little wildly. "How do you think I ended up in this mess?" Sophie had rolled her eyes, knowing how excited Kate was about her growing family and then she'd stilled. "Wait, please tell me this child wasn't conceived on Anthony's birthday" Unable to stop the laughter that burst from her when Kate looked at her a little primly. "I thought Anthony deserved a treat. And we'd just gotten married, and we were still kind of just... in a haze!" Sophie had laughed again, "And how are you enjoying Anthony's treat now 8 months later?" "I would kill that man for a chocolate hobnob and a packet of crisps. He breathes so loudly I swear to god. But honestly Sophie, Birthday Sex. It works! Just... Use protection!" Sophie had laughed and rolled her eyes.

But something had stuck with her about Kate's comments as she'd tried fruitlessly to buy him something he'd like. Maybe she could make him something? No she did that all the time. And He'd gotten her a sewing machine for her birthday! There had to be something he wanted, something he'd told her about himself that he'd never think to buy. And close to tears, she went home empty handed.

So now, here she was, a little desperately holding her boyfriend's birthday present in her hands, preparing like the world's stupidest person, to give it the old Sheffield try as Lucy had joked. Benedict woke slowly his eyelids fluttering open when she kissed his cheek softly, a slow smile appearing on his face, his hair in a hundred different directions and honestly, Sophie had never felt more in love with him than right here in this moment. The soft sunlight filtering through their windows, the sheets warm and soft around them in the bed they now shared.

"Happy Birthday." She said softly, pressing her lips to the end of her nose. Benedict hummed happily, shifting closer to her under the covers, his hands already tugging at her waist, sending heat jolting through her. "And with you looking so good, a very happy birthday indeed." His voice far too deep, his lips already trailing over her collarbone. Sophie forced herself to push lightly against him, sitting up a little. "You can have that kind of present in a minute." Ben's eyes lit up with childlike delight, the grin on his face making him look so much younger. "Real present first." She said nervously, handing him the small present.

Ben eyed it curiously, his finger's playing at with the bow for a second before he tore at the paper. He held the shirts up curiously, one after the other, taking in the patterns there, the tiny cartoon elephant in his green suit, his trunk held aloft proudly. "Where did you find Babar shirts?!" Ben said excitedly, grinning down at her, the same childlike excitement radiating from him now. Sophie had to hold back a smile. "I made them." Ben stilled, his hands, rubbing over the soft fabric, his voice filled with awe. "You... made me these shirts? Because I told you how much I love Babar?" Sophie forced herself to nod, suddenly a little nervous.

Instantly Ben's lips found hers, hot and unrelenting against her, his body pushing her into the mattress, his hands already tugging at her pyjamas insistently, his eyes questioning as she pulled back. "If we're moving on to your second present, I think I'll take the lead." Ben's eyes went wide, his hands stilling as she pushed against his chest until his back was against the headboard, as she moved to straddle him. He let out a little whine as his hands gripped her thighs, her teeth nipping along his neck, tongue soothing in their wake, Ben already grinding his hips into hers little pants of frustration escaping him. "Sophie", he whined "Please." The request made her stomach tighten, the fire simmering inside her rising to an inferno. But she forced herself not to show it as she pulled back again. "Not yet." Benedict whined again as she shimmered away from him, down his body settling herself low on his legs as she tugged his pyjama pants down. Benedict's breath caught as he realised her intention. "You don't have to do that." Sophie rolled her eyes, they had this conversation every time. "No, but I still want to." And seconds later he wasn't complaining as her mouth moved over him. Groans wrenched from his chest, one hand tangling in her hair, the other finding her hand, their fingers locked together.

And honestly, the power she seemed to wield over him in these moments as he bucked and groaned and sighed against her, her name falling from his lips like a hurried prayer, was maybe too intoxicating, her own hips grinding against his leg a little obscenely, searching for some kind of relief given her free hand was trapped by his. And then he tugged her upwards, sharply, his eyes burning into hers. "Please Sophie. Can I?" His voice cracking with need as he tugged at her clothes, flipping them over before she could protest, and then she was lost to it. her legs tight around his waist as they moved together a little frantically, the muscles of his neck tight with the exertion, his eyes shining down at her , pushing her closer and closer to the edge How did I ever live without you? Fuck you're so perfect Sophie, I love you so much it hurts, Soph Soph Soph Soph. Her own breath wrenched from her body with his name as he pushed her further into the mattress with every movement Ben Ben Ben and then she fell off the edge. Her mouth open in a silent scream as Ben shuddered against her, with a sharp shout, collapsing against her seconds later. The sound of their breathing echoing through the bedroom just as their moans had done moments before.

"Well, Fuck." He laughed breathlessly, nuzzling at her neck again, as Sophie fought for breath. "Happy fucking Birthday to me!" Sophie laughed "Wanna know what your third present is?" Ben whined tiredly "How can there be more?" "I have the entire day off, and we're not leaving this bed." Benedict's Whoop! of joy rang through the room.

And really, when they arrived at his mother's house for dinner that night, his new shirt, not covering the bruise she'd left on his neck, Sophie had to admit that maybe not all of Kate's ideas were so terrible.

[altagraye]

Faith  miniseries (part 1)

**T. W.!!: self harm, suicidal thoughts, self doubt, sad reader.

*this is my first xreader ever so i hope it aint sloppy. 💋

There were very few things that scared the Winchesters but tonight their fear was palpable. Most of the time they were passive and observant. Even Dean didn't want to open that can of worms. Ever since that hunt a few weeks ago, the one no one talked about on the 2 day drive home, something with you has been wrong. Like you got your wires crossed and you haven't been the same since. It has been gradual, like watching someone sinking in quicksand or dying of cancer.  

You weren't stupid, you could tell that they have been distantly observing you as if you had a ticking time bomb strapped to your torso at all times. You noticed the change of mood in the kitchen when you'd finally gotten yourself out of bed to grab a cup of coffee. It's like your presence sucked the life out of a room, much like a Dementor from Harry Potter. You didn't know which hurt more, the deafening silence, the obvious coaxed smiles from Sam, or the steady stares from Dean when your back was turned. Sometimes when you were awake enough, you heard the brothers arguing about something, you'd tricked yourself to overhear certain words in their heated arguments, and convinced yourself they hadn't been arguing about you. But they clearly were.  

Cas, the usual flat faced stoic of the Bunker had twinges of concern in his oceanic orbs. Were you that messed up? That a fuckin' angel was concerned about you? What the hell happened? It started with that hunt. That much you know, right? Maybe it started before that? When it did sink in, you started to spend much more time cooped up in your room. You liked the softness of your bed and the warmth of your bed-covers. Suddenly you didn't want to go...anywhere. You spent your days sleeping and struggling to keep your eyes open enough to hear what Sam had conjured up about a potential case. The nights, those were the worst though. In the night you couldn't get to sleep if you tried. And that was when you felt most alone. You hated being awake, if you were awake you were thinking. And thinking means remembering just how much of a screw up you knew you were.

Team Free Will just came back from a hunt which you had to pull teeth just to get to stay in the confines of the Bunker. It had been a few days. You don't remember the last time you ate. Was it when you ate the second to last slice of apple pie in the middle of the night when your insomnia was at its peak? Or was that this evening when you woke up to a grumbling stomach that you couldn't ignore, so you quelled it with warm chicken broth. You didn't feel deserving enough to eat solid food today. Your lips were cracked and severely chapped even though you knew you kept your lip balm in the bedside table, within reach. Your long hair is disheveled in its bun and you can't stop sneezing because you forgot to take your medicine today, again. What a failure. You can't take care of yourself. It would be so much better if you could just lay down in your bed and sleep. Sleep and dream, forever.  

Face it, the Winchesters are so much better without you. Dean doesn't need you burdening him. He would only have to carry your dead weight around on cases. You can't even muster up the courage to walk up to houses and round up info on the local legends, doing door-to-door sweeps. What in all Hell makes you think Dean could be attracted to someone, some frail little girl trapped in the past? You weren't his type anyhow, a plus-sized book worm didn't turn him on. How could it? You saw his porno-mags. Those girls were, perfection. Miles away from what you were. They were tall, sculpted shades of golden skin. They were the definition of success, confidence, beauty. Qualities you'd convinced yourself you weren't. You saw their type in multiple bartenders that you painfully watched Dean flirt with. From your table at the bar, it stung to see Dean's pearly whites brighten in the lights of the illuminated bar. His expression full of child-like glee, effortless and innocent. Sam was next to you for protection, his face buried in his tablet searching diligently through lore and articles of missing peoples.  

You shuffle your feet audibly into the kitchen. Even though you don't feel like eating, you need to eat at least a sandwich in Dean's presence. The brothers were sipping beer at the table in the kitchen while you fixed yourself a wimpy pb & j. Sitting down at the very edge of the metal table you stared for a long moment at your sandwich. I hate this, it's making me sick to even look at food, you think to yourself. You take a bite and chew slowly, wanting so hard to spit it out. You're too fat already. Why do you eat in the first place? Those thoughts stew in your head as you notice the Winchester brothers are staring at you. You notice someone is talking to you but it doesn't register. You swallow the bite unwillingly, closing your eyes like you had just done something terrible.  

"Y/N? Earth to Y/N?" You recognize the husk in the voice to be Dean's. You flinch and look at him, wishing immediately you hadn't stared into those perfect green orbs. The expression on his face let you know that he knew there was definitely something wrong with you. God you're such a freak. You drag your tongue on your left canine, the one that has always been particularly sharp. Feeling a cold sweat begin to drip down your neck, you start to panic. You drop your sandwich on its plate and rise from your seat. You need the sanctuary of your messy bedroom, the softness of the mattress. You need the coolness of the sheets. Your small feet tap the tile of the floor beneath you but you notice sound behind you that will your body to go faster. They were following after you.  

You'd never been more afraid that they'd find out what was in your head. That Dean would find out how you felt about him and about yourself. That can't be an option. You knew what would be next, what was inevitable. The dreaded talk. You finally reach the knob of your bedroom door, your palm slipping as you fumble with it from sweating. Just as they are about to reach you, you open the door and slam it shut behind you, locking it. You heart is racing against your chest. Locking the door isn't enough. So you barricade the door with your dresser. As you do so, you feel yourself breaking and hot tears flow down your face soaking into your hoodie.  

"Y/N?! C'mon, open the door." Sam says.

"Whatever it is we can talk about it. Y/N. Please?" Dean's tone is almost unlike him. You'd only ever heard him use this kind of tone with children who were in the midst of trauma from an awry hunt. Is that what he thought of you as? A wounded child in need of coddling? Or maybe even worse, a wounded animal.

You don't answer and there is a long pause. You need relief and release in the only way you know how. You rummage through your bedside table drawer and find a thin hunting knife, the one Dean gave you a few years ago. Your first gift from him. You pull down the fleece-like fabric of your sweatpants to reveal scars, left over from self-inflicted pain, years gone by. They were raised and pink lines. They wouldn't understand. You hear thudding from the other side of your door, that can only mean the brothers are getting more desperate, using their bodyweight to try and get inside.  

"Y/N!!" Dean yells for you in between the thudding.  

"GO AWAY!" You yell as you drag the sharpness across your skin. Red bubbles up from the cut and for a few seconds you feel relief. But it doesn't stop the pain. You cry more, sobbing uncontrollably. The salty tears blurring your vision until they spill over staining your cheeks. You need more, so you add more cuts, one by one. Oddly you chuckled at your macabre artwork, thinking you just made your thigh look like a piece of lined paper. You start your work on the opposite thigh, digging in a little deeper with each line.  

You hear someone suck in a breath sharply. Someone was in the room with you. During your release, you never noticed the dresser move or the door opening. Looking up from your bloodied thighs you see Dean staring back at you. His blade still in your hand, red dripping down your skin and slipping into the pure white sheets.  

"Y/N? Hey, that's okay. Put the knife down, alright?" He said to you smiling at you flashing his bright white impeccable teeth, Sam in the background of your bedroom doorway with his hand clasped over his mouth in a blank stare. More tears sear themselves into your eyes and flood over. Your lips are quivering. You drop your knife released from your trembling hand, it thunks itself into the wooden floor below. You don't dare look back at Dean. You curl yourself up as best as possible granted the size of your stomach won't let you pull your knees to your chest.

You collapse onto your bed facing your pillows, you sob into them and hold one tight to your face in a feeble attempt to hide yourself. You feel Dean sit next to you on the bed, and he begins to stroke your back in soothing motions. His effortless acts of kindness make you break more. You feel the onset of a nasty headache forming, from the intensity of your sobbing. You can barely make out Dean telling Sam to bring a first aid kit and water. Dean shushes you and continues to stroke your back and your arm.

"You don't have to tell me anything. Just take deep breaths, 'kay? Here, I'll do it too." He breathes deep in and out, hard enough to be audible. Why was he so nice to me all of a sudden?? You begin to feel numb, and you weren't sure if this was from the emotional break down or the blood loss. Had you cut too deep this time? Sam returns with the first aid kit. You note its metal clink on the bedside table. You unbury your face from your pillow only to get a breath of fresh air. You don't look at Dean or Sam. You couldn't. Dean thanks his younger brother for the glass of water and the kit.  

"Can you give us a minute Sammy?" Dean asks.

"Sure. As long as you need." Sam confirms and you hear the heavy footed thuds of his boots exit your room. Dean does something that you don't expect. He lays down on his side, with you. Spooning up against your form. You mentally whack yourself in the head, he's getting his jeans all bloody, that you're sure of. He continues to stroke your arm softly. He hooks his chin into the nook of your shoulder.

"Whenever you're ready. I'm all ears." He tells you, the gentleness in his tone brings you to tears again. You weep silently. Was this really happening? You don't budge or say a word as sleep takes you over and you feel so amazingly content. You melt into the rhythmic breaths that Dean takes. The act soothes you into dreamland. For the first time in a while you think, I want to wake up to him next to me. And you swear you smile in your slumber.

End part 1.

*criticism is taken constructively.

*comments are golden.

[mishavacado]

SPN has so much spinoff potential and so much canon to work with, it's such a waste that none of it's getting used. This post is just all of my spinoff ideas, I'll apologize in advance because it is VERY long.

Wayward Sisters, obviously. There are so many possible storylines to work with, so many stories to tell. I'd really love to see some Charlie, Eileen, or Krissy Chambers cameos. I think that Charlie and Claire would get along really well (just read this post). Rowena is another character that I think could easily be worked into the canon. She could teach the girls all kinds of magic and be the fun wine aunt that spoils the girls on their birthdays. I don't think that Claire would like her very much, but, Rowena and Alex would probably get along just fine. How much I need this in my life: 1000000000000000000000000/10 when I heard that this idea had been tossed out I was so angry. Why doesn't this exist?

Men of Letters prequel that's mostly set in the bunker. This show could really expand on the canon lore and give us some more background on the Men of Letters, as well as any other similar/rival organizations that were around before the main show's time. The Men of Letters have so much story potential for a spin-off; corrupt leadership, new monsters, other organizations, expanding the MoL to outside the U.S. Episodes could be in a monster-of-the-week (MOTW) format, starting and ending with the Man of Letters the case is assigned to making notes in his journal or case file or talking about the case, as well as the overall season arcs. Episodes would be titled by their case number, i.e S1 E1 Case No. 1925-4, etc How much I need this in my life: 1000000/10, the supernatural/historical drama combo would be absolutely stunning.

A series focusing on all of the alternate timelines and universes, both the ones mentioned in the main show and ones just randomly created for an episode. There are infinite possibilities. Each episode would be in a MOTW format, but with different versions of Sam and Dean. The HunterCorp universe, Jared and Jensen from the French Mistake, a universe where their names are switched, a universe where Dean went to college and was the one with the demon blood powers, a universe where they drive a Mustang instead of the Impala, a universe where Sam isn't scared of clowns. I could go on, but I'm going to stop myself here. How much I need this in my life: 9/10 I think it would be pretty funny, but it's not my best idea.

A Bobby and Rufus spin-off where they talk about cases they worked on together or with other hunters, but the stories are told similarly to Tall Tales. It's the same story but told from different points of view depending on who's talking. I wish we'd gotten to see more of Bobby and Rufus because I think those two are hilarious and really think that this could be funny, even if it was just a web series with twenty-minute episodes. How much I need this in my life: 10/10, I love Bobby and Rufus and I think that they have a lot of interesting hunting stories to tell.

GHOSTFACERS GHOSTFACERS GHOSTFACERS. How much I need this in my life: 100000000000000000000000/10, I love the Ghostfacers. That's my whole idea.

A Jack-centric show that's almost a political drama. Jack is the ruler of heaven and is constantly being manipulated by angels, demons, and Death herself. He just wants to make an afterlife paradise, but power-hungry angels won't leave him alone. Remember that Jack is very young and trusting by nature, so there is a lot of potential for disaster if he gets goaded into doing something, like making new universes or ending existing ones. Cas is a main character and he does his best to protect Jack, but he has to be careful to not seem overprotective/like another manipulator or Jack won't trust him either. I have no idea if I'm making any sense, but shoutout to me if I am. For some reason, I've always thought that heaven would be an interesting setting for a spin-off, and those angels are pretty similar to power-hungry politicians. How much I need this in my life: 800/10, I would totally watch this.

A very short series that just destroys the canon finale. Twelve episodes, detailing the storylines that were ignored or destroyed by Carry On. E1: Rescuing Cas from the Empty and he and Dean have a long talk about their ~feelings~. They kiss, and for the first time, Dean’s mind is free of doubt about whether or not anyone could ever love all of him. E2: Eileen returns. She says nothing when she sees Dean and Cas holding hands, just raises her eyebrow and smiles knowingly. Some excellent movie night content. E3: 1 year later. Sam and Eileen’s wedding. Dean and Cas aren’t legally married, but their matching gold rings are very prominently shown. It isn’t mentioned. The wedding is almost canceled because of the rain, but with a wave of Jack’s hand the clouds disappear and the birds start to sing. E4: Sam and Eileen have moved out of the Bunker. Cas finally convinces Dean to downsize, so they find a little house in Lawrence and settle down. Cas works as a special ed teacher. Dean works as a mechanic. Miracle loves the backyard but makes sure to stay away from the beehives in the back corner. E5: Sam and Eileen’s twins, Mary and Maura, are born. Dean and Cas love their nieces, and Jack loves them too. He doesn’t know what to call himself, so they settle on Uncle and call it good. E6: Deaths. They all die old. Cas’s vessel has aged, but he can’t die, so when Dean finally passes away in his sleep, Cas scatters his ashes in the woods and disappears, ascending to heaven, to spend eternity with Dean. The closing scene is a dark screen, with the whoosh of wings and a soft “Hello, Dean.” OK. That was a long one. My apologies. How much I need this in my life: 100000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000/10. I would reach nerdvana thirty seconds into episode one.

Another spinoff of that idea is just...Dean and Cas living a normal life. Short episodes. Cas goes to the grocery store. Dean drags Cas to a horror movie fan convention. Cas meets a roomba. How much I need this in my life: I can’t type enough zeroes to express it.

Campbell prequel that focuses on Mary and her childhood. Mary being raised as a hunter but not being allowed on hunts. Mary rushing home to finish her chemistry homework so she can help her dad track a nest of vampires moving east. Mary missing her prom to help Samuel on a hunt. Mary trying to keep her real life secret from John, a man she knows loves the parts of her he knows about. Mary always being an outsider, the kindest and most beautiful girl in her class, but so slow to trust and quick to speak that everyone is afraid to be her friend. Mary is a character that has the potential a lot more development, for twelve seasons she’s the burning martyr in every Winchester’s imagined paradise. She deserves more. How much I need this in my life: 11/10, Mary isn’t my favorite character but I would die for her.

Gabriel spin-off. That’s it, that’s the idea. How much I need this in my life: 10000000/10, Gabriel is a character that we don’t know a lot about so there are so many possible directions for a story about him to go.

Show set in the SPN universe that doesn’t really interact with the main show’s canon. It’s about two cops in the 30s that become hunters by accident. After investigating the apparent suicide of a hunter in their small town, they become enthralled by her library, filled with books about ghosts and vampires. They pour over her journals on their own time, fascinated by what they’re reading. They get to know the hunter through her writings, her accounts of her hunts and travels. Eventually, a nest of vampires settles in the town and the two put their newfound knowledge to the test. This show would just be based on canon lore, there wouldn’t be any mention of the Winchesters or other main characters, although a few MoL team-ups is definitely a possibility. The two become quite a team, tracking werewolf backs on bulletin boards in their basements and hoarding rock salt. How much I need this in my life: 89/10, I think this could be really interesting and I am a sucker for historical hunters.

Speaking of historical hunters-Samuel Colt prequel. Cowboys, vampires, cowpires. Hunting in the wild west, galloping across the prairie chasing a pack of werewolves. This show could also tell us a lot about how different types of monsters spread across the U.S. Ghosts will go anywhere people go, but what about vampires? Shapeshifters? Ghouls? What was it like to hunt without technology to help with research? The hunters in this series would be the authors of the journals that modern hunters use every day. They’re the ones that tested tracking and trapping methods. Again, no idea if this is making sense, but I think that a supernatural western would be really awesome and would expand/substantiate the canon lore. How much I need this in my life: 1000000000000000000000000000000/10, I love cowboys and I love Supernatural. This is literally the best thing that could ever happen to me.

Crowley. I want to know more about him. A series that tells us all about Fergus Roderick MacLeod, starting with when he was born in Scotland and ending with his death in All Along the Watchtower. We know that Rowena was his mother, that he was a tailor, that he sold his soul for an extra three inches ~down there~, and that he was a terrible dad. I want to know more about his childhood, about the people he made deals with, about how he became king of the crossroads and of Hell. Crowley was a very interesting character that was abused by the story. I want to know more about him. How much I need this in my life: 10000000000000000000000000000000000000/10, I really do love Crowley and I would watch this a thousand times over.

Final idea: MOTW only. No season arc, no overall storyline. New hunters every episode, from all different times, from over the world. All kinds of monsters. One episode in Victorian England, the next in 1990s Los Angeles. Very few recurring characters, if any. The recurring characters would be the Bobby Singers of the world; the lore guys that you call when you need help. Each new character has their own style, own car, own music, own personality. The show could have some a m a z i n g guest stars because they’d only appear in a few episodes. There are so many possibilities for episodes, even if they weren’t full length. How much I need this in my life: 100000/10, I love MOTW episodes and would really like to get to know the characters. It would be very easy to write one-off fanfics for this show, and also very easy to introduce this show’s characters into Supernatural’s canon.

You made it to the end!!!!!!!! That’s all I have for now. Sorry for writing so much, I just can’t stop thinking about SPN and all of the wasted stories.

[popculturebuffet]

*Goofy and Launchpad are hanging a banner*

Banner: CONGRADULATIONS SENIOR WOODCHUCK VIOLET!

Huey: Excellent work guys.. and it only took three hours, four broken lamps.. several jabs in the eyes.. some bloodloss but you did it.

Dewey and Louie: (Walk in)

Louie: So what's all this?

Huey: A party for violet.. I thought she deserved a celebration.. I mean her parents took her out after but you can't get enough and I got one even though I turned it down because I did a terrible thing to try and get it.

Della: And i'm proud of you sweetie... (Has been there thewhole time with boyd, both in uniform)

Huey: I also thought I should bring some of our fellow woodchucks.. but most were small children and our house is a deathtrap on a normal day so for obvious reasons I invited the nigh indescrutable robot who my best friend can repair and my mom who lives here. I mean mom still counts. She's also going to try and start corunning meetings since .. how do I put this nicely.

Della: Launchpad your a terrible Chuckleader

Launchpad: Entirely accurate. And you look hot in that uniform

Della: Also entirely accurate. And while throwing a party for the person who defeated you in compettition isn't MY style, I prefer to sulk and swear vengance, I am PROUD of you for being the bigger duck. Metaphorically she's not a duck and her hair gives her a slight advantage.

Boyd: I"m just happy to be invited. As was my brother.

Louie: HUEY NO HUEY WHY HUEY WHY

Huey: "A woodchuck always invites another woodchuck"..though thankfully the guidebook also says "A woodchuck always obeys restraining orders" so the most he can do is creepily lurk outside.

Doofus:(Breathing heavily and creepily into the closest window from outside)

Louie: Eugh... but we're not going outside for this? Please say no.

Huey: We were but for obvious reasons I cancled the outside portion. I also laid out the solicitor traps with picutres of goldie so HOPEFULLy he'll evnetually end up in one of those. Your my brother, I take your eneimies as seriously as I do my oath as a junior woodchuck. Plus he scares me too.

BOYD: Oh he's not so bad. He stopped holding a knife to my throat while I was powered down after mama and poppa told him to only three times!

Webby: (Riding in on a cartload of snacks and books ) I got the suplies for your party! Almonds like she likes, some salmon and some light reading. You are such a good friend.

Louie: Sure that's ALLL he wants to be.

Huey: (panicked) yeah of COURSE I do... why would you say that?

Dewey: Ohhh Huey's got a girlfriend, huey's got a girlfriend, come on eveyrbody!

Dewey and Della: Huey's got a girlfriend, huey's got a girlfriend!

Boyd: HUEY"S GOT A PARTNER TO SHARE HIS HOPES AND DREAMS WITH MOCKING TONE

Dewey: Your learning buddy

Boyd: We have never met before.

Dewey: We haven't have we? ... why haven't we? I always wanted a robot buddy to laugh at my jokes and do wacky hyjinks with.

Boyd: And I always wanted a third friend!

Della: Sorry son force of habit.

Huey: I do not like violet.. just because she's pretty.. and smarter than me.. and she smells nice.. which I only know because she flew me out of danger after I didn't do the same in a moment of weakness... and she's also awwkawrd with people... and fine I do.

Webby: EHHHH MY BROTHER LIKES MY BEST FRIEND... I'M SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW. WE NEED A PLAN.

Huey: I have one it's called be nice and hope she notices.

Della: Oh baby child no. You have to actually make a move. Don't be like your uncle donald

Donald: (Burts in from the back) Stop telling the boys that! I mean it's probably true but it hurts.

Della: I was telling dewey to actually MAKE a move and not just wait for her to notice.

Donald: Oh... then your mother is absolutley right.

Huey: You taught me that!

Donald: And I was very wrong and i'm very much alone and i'll probably die alone aside from you guys. I'm okay with that.

Della: Okay i'm going to put a pin in that because your going to die alone over my dead body.

Donald: We talked scrooge out of us sharing a casket though.

Della: Again pin my baby needs me, Huey just be honest, be yourself... and just don't corner her.. just ask her nicely to go to a movie, or a library or an abandoned condo built on an native american buiral ground.

Webby: Thanks again for the date spot suggestion by the way. Lena loved it.

Della: your welcome. I have enoguh mom for all of you.. includingt he tiny robot and the grown man who misses his child.

Goofy: Awwww...

Louie: Wait why IS goofy here?

Donald: He's rooming with me. I still had the spare room and he has empty nest.. plus he needs a new house after the old one burned down.

Goofy: It's just like college!

Huey: But I"m.. scared okay? besides her being objectivley better than me, I had BOYD run the satstics.

BOYD: But your still great.

Huey: Thank you, what if she dosen't want that or dosen't feel that way?

Louie: Then you'll be awkard around each other for a while.. you were going to be ANYWAY if you don't tell her and either way the awkward goes away. You got this man. She's a nerd, your a nerd, your all nerds.

Launchpad: (Happily) hey!

Louie: You got this. We're all in your corner.

Doofus: (from outside still) Even me... though if you fail i'm going for that.

Webby: (cheerfully) If you even THINK about hitting on my best friend again I will hunt you down to the ends of the earth and bury you where no will ever find you.

Doofus: Ohhhh I won't.. your much more intresting.

Webby: Ewwwww.. I have a girlfriend. Also your objectivley disgusting in every way shape or form.

Doofus: Well I (gun cocks) Am being threatned by your help. Good day to you. (Runs off)

Louie: MRs. b, did you ever know that your my hero?

Beakly: (beams proudly and then goes back to her gardening)

Dewey: Louie's right, while I will mock you constnatly you got this. Plus you got her best friend in her corner.

Webby: Yeah.. though if you ever hurt her i'll do to you what i'll probably have to do to doofus one day

Huey: That is entirely fair and I will accept my death without a struggle.

Webby: See you are good boyfriend material!

Huey: Though I doubt I mean she couldn't possibly...

MEANWHILE: not far from the house, Lena and Violet are walking

Violet: Feel the same way. I mean... for one your around.

Lena: I appricate the compliment but i'm dating his sister. And i'm also VERY gay. Like our dad's gay. Like huey's mom is turbo bi.

Violet: Yes i've read the "Bi as explitive" t-shirt she wore when we first met her. But besides a lack of better options why me? I'm stilted, I do not get people, and until a few months ago my only friend was learning.

Lena: Take out stilted and you just described him too. Your similar enough to really click but just diffrent enough it won't get boring.

Violet: But you nad webby

Lena: Are opposites. Yes this is true. But it's not ALL relationships. Sometimes you date someone just like you, sometimes you don't.. I mean our dad's aren't exactly the same either, but their amazing. And so are you. I may not belivie in most people, But I belivie in you. (they arrive at the gates, violet has been in uniform naturally) Now get in there and get that nerd, Nerd.

Violet: (has been tearing up slightly and hugs her sister) You are the best sibling I never asked for.

Lena: (Hugs her back) right back atcha

(Inside)

Dewey: (holding a cake shaped like violet's head and eating it directly with his mouth) I got the cake

Huey: This isa why I set up a decoy.. three of htem.

(Della and launchpad are also holding hteir own cakes)

Della: But i'd never...

Huey: You would if this wasn't so important to me, so I feel your behavior deserves to be rewarded. Now if you'll excuse me I need to hide my emotions. (Waves hand over face.. and still looks like a nervous mess) There no one will notice

Louie: Huey she's a nerd not blind. Look man, your amazing, you are a catch.. I mean not at our age or even in highschool but eventually scrooge will die and you'll be richer because you'll probably invent something that makes you rich before that. As I said just go for it man, just find an opportunity and cease it.. we're all backing you up. And if it fails, we'll be there to pick you up. Now go get that nerd.

Huey: Right.. i'm just going to pen the door and

Duckworth: Masters violet and lena... (Leads them into the foyer) Also nicely done.. and thank you for asking my permission though in the future as long as your uncle is uninvolved you need only give me a heads up so he can hide from it.

Huey: Thank you duckworth.. ahme... ta-da!

Violet: (blushes) It's wonderful... and is that a bookshelf? And.. is that terry pratchetts complete works? And a cake shaped like my head.. may I?

Huey: (Hands her a knife)

Violet: (Cuts in) And it's an exact repleica of my interior cranimum. I knew you wanted those x-rays for a reason b esides curosity you rascal

Huey: (Blushes) I uh.. thanks

Violet: (Blushes bakc) Uh any time)

Della: Awwww

Huey: Hey violet I was uh wondering,, I uh..

Violet: ... okay so he does feel the same wya tha'ts a relief. You were right Lena

Huey: Wait what?

Louie: You had to give her the pep talk too huh?

Lena: Yup.. I mean she is usuually confident

Louie: Not so true here...

Dewey: I"m fine with that.. it's what makes him loveable.. that and it means i'm not 100% teh donald

Della: Nah you got too much of my genetics for that.

Huey: Okay I can handle this okay..

Violet: Oh god you really aren't intrested

Huey: No I am I am but why me? I"m not even a senior woodchuck.

Violet: no but when given the easy out you didn't take it, you took the honorable path. YOu also are smart, adorable, and do not mind the fact I speak more roboticaly than our actual robot friend.

BOYD: 4 friends!

Huey: An dyou.. dont' seem bothered that I kinda sorta a little am nervous.

Violet: If you mean extremley yes but I find it cute.

Huey: I.. uh (Blushes0 uhhhhh... youralsobrillantandcuteandIlikeyourhairandthewayyousmellandIknowthat'sweirdbutIwasupwindofyousoicouldn'thelpitandiwnattobeyourboyfriendeventually

Louie:Wow just.. wow.. I mean I expected it to be bad but that is art

Violet: I accept (Smooches his cheek) Now let's dig into my head shall we? I call frontal lobe

Lena: I want a large portion of skull

Webby: I get the eyes.

(The two nerds hold hands and head for the cake)

FIN

[imperial-martian]

Standing Tall {Atticus Finch x Reader}

A/N: so, I hadn’t realized Atticus didn’t go to high school when I was writing this. After I wrote this I passed the part in the book. Mind you, I had watched the movie first. Also, keep in mind, this is my first time ever writing for Atticus. If you want me to write more, than I can turn this account into a multi-fandom blog.

Teen! Atticus x Teen! Reader

Angst/Fluff

(High School AU, Bullying, Third Person Point of View)

•—•

The young h/c haired, e/c eyed girl knew from the moment she woke up that morning that it was going to be an awful day. Mondays were always awful, as well as Tuesday and the rest of the week until finally, the weekend came around.

Golden hues of the sunlights rays shined in through her white curtains, lighting up her bed and allowing for the covers to become warmer than the temperature they had been throughout the night. Knowing that it was time to get up and head off to school, Y/N pushed her covers aside and swung around to sit on the edge of her bed.

She rubbed at her eyelids, blinking a few once she removed her knuckles before she pushed herself up from the bed and made her way towards her wardrobe. Pulling open the uncared wooden drawer, hearing the awful scraping sounds that over time would begin to wear out the wood, she pushed aside some clothes before finding her uniform.

The jumper was a grey, blue, and stripes of gold patterned to look like some sort of checkers board, underneath was a sky blue button-up and black tie, and over the top of both of those was a black sweater vest. Her shoes were an unpolished leather black loafers that slipped over the top of knee-high navy stockings.

Y/N hated the uniform, but she's dealt with it for twelve years, and with two more years left to go for high school it was bearable. She wasn't ready for the morning yet, still managing to brush her teeth, brush her hair and wrap it into a neat ponytail before making her way to the kitchen where she was greeted with her parents.

Her father was reading the newspaper, already dressed in his formal suit. Her mother was in a yellow sundress by the stove, cooking them all breakfast while Zala, the maid, set the table.

"Good morning mother," she greeted with a kiss on her cheek. Then she moved over to her father, kissing him on the cheek as well. "Hello father, a new case today?" she asked, nodding to the briefcase on the floor beside him.

Her father looked up from over the newspaper, his f/e/c eyes gazing over to his daughter before he snapped the newspaper shut and nodded, a small smile resting on his face.

"Indeed, Y/N, unfortunately, I can't bring you to school because of said case. I have to head to the court early," he explained, giving her a sympathetic smile before glancing at his pocket watch. "Which reminds me, I should be heading out now," he said, standing and fixing his blazer before grabbing his case and leaving the papers discarded on the table.

"You do well at school, won't you? Be careful on your walk there," Y/N's father chided before standing after he received a nod

Her father walked towards Y/N before kissing the top of her head and patting her shoulder, then moved towards her mother whom to which he gave a small kiss to before waving goodbye to Zala and taking his leave.

Y/N watched her father leave before turning to Zala to finally say good morning.

"I'm sorry to ask mother, but since father can't bring me to school is it all right if I head out early today?" she asked, already readying her backpack as she spoke.

Her mother turned to look at her from over her shoulder. "That's fine by me dear, but here," she said, grabbing some toast and an apple, "take this with you and eat it on your way there."

Y/N nodded her head, giving her mom a wide, thankful smile before grabbing the apple and toast. "Thank you mother, goodbye, and have a nice day. You too Zala, I'll see you after school."

Zala smiled towards her and nodded, "you behave Miss L/N," she teased before walking her towards the door. "Guess I'll only be setting the table for two this morning," she said, holding the door open for Y/N.

Y/N laughed softly before heading out and waving back to Zala before beginning her dreadful walk to school. It was interesting to see how quickly her mood had changed as soon as the thought of school had entered her head. It was unfortunate, especially since Y/N loved going to school. She loved to learn. However, there were people there that she simply could not push aside. She couldn't stand up for herself. There were too many.

The girl had been unaware of the young, yet still older, boy walking behind her. Atticus Finch, a young, bright man on his third year of high school, was trailing behind Y/N in a sky blue button-up, navy tie, and black dress pants. He wore a black belt that matched his leather shoes which were polished till they were spotless. His dark brown, almost black, hair was parted perfectly and the matching colored eyes were hidden behind circular glasses that rested against the bridge of his nose.

Usually, a book would be resting in his hands that allowed his brown eyes to travel every word, picking apart each sentence with little care as to what or who was around him. However, today was different. Atticus was without a book, his hands even shoved into his pockets, and his brown eyes were scanning his surroundings rather than words on paper.

Atticus has been walking at a decent pace when Y/N had begun to walk in front of him. He had decided to pick it up a little till he caught up to her so that they walked side by side.

"Morning Y/N," Atticus greeted, startling her slightly, not because she didn't know somebody was standing beside her, but because she didn't know it was Atticus standing beside her.

She swallowed, eventually attempting to speak. "Atticus!" she exclaimed. "Good morning," she continued in a much more silent, shallow tone.

Atticus had only turned his head to look at the girl, giving her a soft smile as they walked side by side. Y/N's hands couldn't stop themselves from going up to the straps of her backpack and gripping onto them until her knuckles were white. She was terribly nervous, looking around as if she was looking for somebody.

"Hey Atticus?" she questioned, gaining his attention. "Where is your sister?"

"She has left early to walk with Maudie. She had said something about wanting to study for a test, however, it was clear as day that she was lying," Atticus chuckled, shaking his head a little.

Y/N frowned. "Ah, I see," she mumbled before turning her head to look off towards the houses that aligned the street.

Atticus, although noticing the sudden frown on the girl's face, said nothing, only continuing to silently walk beside her. He did, however, reach out a hand towards her, lightly placing his fingers against her arm in order to console her for whatever negative thought made her so sad.

Y/N's head snapped to the side, glancing down at the soft brush of fingers on her arms before she looked back up to Atticus' chocolate brown eyes. Her h/c eyes were filled with fear, not because she was afraid of Atticus himself, but God forbid Alexandra caught sight of this, her hell of a day at school would be as if she was burning in fire- like a slow and painful death.

Atticus has since removed his hand from her arm, placing it back into his pocket. "I didn't mean any harm by the action. I only wanted to offer some reassurance," the boy explained when he recognized that the girl was still in some deep thought.

Y/N blinked. "Oh no, Atticus, I-" she broke off, frustrated with herself for causing Atticus to think that he had made her uncomfortable. She stopped speaking after that, only because their school had come into view and the fright that she had felt just moments ago covered up the frustration she felt.

The bell went off the minute that they had stepped into the schoolyard, and quickly students began to disperse and head off to different classes.

"Hopefully I'll see you again before the day ends, Y/N. I wish you luck in all your classes," Atticus stated, offering Y/N one last smile before he headed in the direction of his class, just barely hearing the murmured 'you too,' that was returned.

The young girl knew it was best for her to head to class, and yet she was far too hesitant to take a step towards the direction she had to go. It didn't help when she caught the eyes of Maudie and Alexandra from the class windows.

Quickly, she averted her gaze, making her way into the school and walking the halls until she arrived at her class, only to be blocked off by the two girls she had caught the eyes of moments ago.

For a moment, she thought that the girls would shove her back in order for them to intimidate her, but when a hand reached out and grabbed at her collar the poor girl began to shake like a leaf.

"Why don't you tell us what you were doing with Atticus this morning, Y/N?" Alexandra, the one who grabbed at her, questioned while Maudie stood beside her to keep an eye out for the teacher.

Y/N didn't say a word. She never did when she was shoved around and questioned by these two, but this was different. Today she was trapped in Alexandra's grip. When her hand tightened a little, her knuckles digging into the skin of Y/N's neck, she gritted her teeth.

"What were you doing with my brother? I won't ask again you good for nothing twat," Alexandra demanded, her eyes searing with rage.

Y/N closed her eyes. "I wasn't doing anything with him. We walked to school near each other. That's all!" she exclaimed defensively, trying to assure Alexandra that she wasn't trying to do any harm.

"What did he say to you before he walked off to class then?"

"He wished me a good day," Y/N explained.

Just as Alexandra was about to speak again Maudie tapped at her urgently. "Mrs. Wooder is coming!" she warned.

Alexandra let go, taking a step back into the classroom where all the other students were huddled in their own cliques. She smiled, a sinister smile, towards Y/N before moving to take her seat.

Maudie brushed past Y/N, purposefully knocking at the girl in the doorway before taking her own seat. Y/N did the same.

Mrs. Wooder entered the classroom, slamming a heavy book against her desk like always to gain the attention of all the students. "Everybody take your seat," she said in a low, threatening tone. Everyone listened.

The class started soon after.

When lunch and recess finally came, Y/N had already endured her berating of words from Maudie, Alexandra, and their little followers. Each day seemed to be worst than the last, and today was no exception. Actually, it seemed far worse than she had thought it was originally going to be.

Their words were no longer solely aimed towards her, but family and others she cared deeply for, such as Zala. It was disgusting what she was told. It was times like these where the young girl hated herself. It was only ever times like these that she felt that way.

During lunch, Y/N did her best to sit as far away from the little group that constantly berated her. Of course, it wasn't far enough. Somebody realized and urged everybody else to join in and bother her.

Y/N said nothing. She sat there silently, enjoying the packed lunch that her mother had made while insults, threats, and other disgusting words were thrown at her.

It wasn't until she felt a hard kick to her side, one so hard that it must have left her rib bruised, that she finally acknowledged them. After a short coughing fit due to the impact, she stood, instantly getting pushed back into the wall she was leaning against.

For a moment, Y/N did nothing at all. She simply looked up at the girl who had pushed her. Maudie stood there, a grin on her face.

Y/N clenched her teeth and jaw, her hands clenching into first and crinkling the paper bag that was in her hand. She couldn't stop herself when she lurched forward and pushed back at Maudie. She did it with so much force that Maudie fell to the ground.

Y/N didn't pay attention to the damage she had done, just taking advantage of the shock of the group before sprinting inside after tossing the lunch out. She quickly made her way to class, waiting there with a few other students until the bell went off again.

She had no idea what damage she had done to Maudie, nor did she want to. She was already shaking so much in fear, she didn't want to know what would happen when Alexandra came back in. It was clear that she would be taught a lesson and not one by the teacher.

Thankfully, her next class was with none of the girls she feared at the moment, and for once she hoped that this class would end up lasting hours if it meant she could avoid them. Unfortunately, the class did not last long, actually feeling as though time went by faster than usual.

The final bell went off, and as students began to file out, Y/N took her time in packing up. When she could no longer stall anymore, she hesitantly made her way out of the class, looking around. To no one's surprise, Alexandra and the others stood before her.

Without even allowing Y/N to blink, the palm of somebody's hand met her cheek. The sound echoed down the halls.

"You twat," Alexandra spit out at her. "Your little stunt sent Maudie to the nurse. She's got a bruised back 'cause of you."

Alexandra has prepared to slap her again, winding her hand back. Y/N closed her eyes, tensing as she waited for the impact.

"That's enough Alexandra!" a deep voice called out from, what seemed to be like, the end of the hall. "You lay a hand on Y/N and I will have to report you to the head office, as well as mother and father. Blood or not I will not allow you to lay a hand on somebody, especially one that does not deserve it."

Y/N opened her eyes, tilting her head a bit to see that the one who had stopped Alexandra was Atticus. She felt the grip on her drop. Taking a deep breath, Y/N stepped back.

Alexandra didn't say a word, shocked that her own brother had caught what she had done.

Atticus stepped forward again, standing in front of Y/N to shield her from the crowd. "I shall see you at home, for now, I'll be walking Y/N back to her house. I expect not a word from anybody. If anyone dares to touch her again, I may not let you all off with a simple warning next time," Atticus explained to everyone before looking at his sister once more. "You and I shall have a word when I get home."

Without another word, or waiting for a response from anybody else, Atticus took hold of Y/N's hand and began to walk out of the school. Y/N could tell that although Atticus was angry, he didn't dare show to what extent. He never let his anger show or take over his actions. He was always true to himself and acted accordingly to the situation presented to him. He was never out of line.

"Thank you," Y/N whispered to him meekly, walking beside him with her head down.

Atticus looked over towards her, taking a moment to access her. He gently grabbed her by the shoulders, turning her so that she faced him. He examined the bright red handprint across her cheek, the small purple bruises on her neck from Alexandra's knuckles, and the hand that Y/N placed over her side.

"I'll have to check you over when we get to your house. Your rib may be damaged worse than we think. I only want to make sure you don't need to visit any doctors," Atticus explained. "I'll explain to your mother what had happened, it's only right that I take the blame for my sister's actions. God knows how long she has been doing this to you," Atticus continued, shaking his head in disappointment.

Y/N felt tears in her eyes due to how grateful she felt. Not once did Atticus ask her why she never told him what was happening, or why she continued to let it happen. He just understood. He could question her all the way to her house with questions, and yet he only focused on his main priorities; tending to her wounds and explaining what's happened to her parents.

The walk was dreadful for Atticus, not because of the silence that filled the air, but because of the noises that did. No matter how quiet you tried to be, he could hear her small winces whenever she took a step that was just a little bit of a stretch.

He wondered what the emotional damage that Y/N had taken on was like, but again, he never asked. He could ask his sister for questions like that.

Once they finally arrived back to Y/N's house, Atticus walked up to the door and knocked on it. He shifted his arm a little, both his backpack and Y/N's- that he took when they first began walking -adjusting so that they wouldn't slide off his shoulder.

The door was opened by Zala who instantly could tell that something wasn't right.

"Mr. Finch?" she questioned, tilting her head.

Atticus offered the best smile he could, which was barely one at all. "Hello Zala, may I ask that you assist Y/N to her room, please? If you could also direct me to the first aid?" Atticus asked gently, trying to be as kind as he could even though he wanted to rush everything.

Zala, although confused, and now worried, nodded. "Of course," she nodded, taking Y/N's hand and walking up the stairs. Atticus entered behind them, wiping off his shoes and placing the backpacks by the door.

"Mr. and Mrs. L/N?" Atticus asked, peeking his head into the kitchen where he spotted Y/N's parents sitting at the table.

Their heads turned to look at the door. Mrs. L/N was the first on her feet, walking towards the young boy. "Atticus, what brings you here?" she asked, giving him a sweet smile.

"That's what I'd like to discuss," he explained, entering farther into the room. He took a deep breath as Y/N's parents shared a glance with one another, concern being the most present feature on their faces. A moment later Atticus began to explain everything.

He had finished doing that after a few minutes, excusing himself so that he could go and tend to Y/N while her parents spoke to one another about the situation, giving the two their space before they would go to speak with their daughter.

Atticus made his way upstairs, knocking on Y/N's door once he arrived. A small, 'enter,' was murmured from the other side of the door. He gently pushed the door in, walking into the room and noticing that Zala was applying a little ointment on Y/N's cheek.

She finished within the next minute and made her way towards the door, giving Atticus a small thanks for being so thoughtful as to make sure Y/N was taken care of and to even explain to her parents what had happened. Atticus only returned the thanks with a smile and nod before walking towards Y/N.

"May I sit beside you?" Atticus asked, doing so when she nodded. He let out a little sigh, turning so that he could look at her. He didn't say another word, simply observing as Y/N looked down at the floor before finally she met his gaze.

"Thank you, again. You didn't need to do this for me," Y/N said sincerely.

Atticus chuckled gently, shaking his head a little. "Of course I did. I couldn't watch somebody be beaten by my own blood, especially not somebody I deeply care for," Atticus replied, giving her a sincere smile.

Y/N struggled to speak for a moment, not able to find the right words. After a few minutes of silence she finally built up the courage to ask, "Atticus, how deeply do you care for me?"

Atticus took a moment to think, leaning his hands against the mattress a little as he thought of an answer to those questions. He'd only been able to come to one conclusion, and it was one that he had known for a while but wouldn't admit to. Not until now.

He couldn't seem to express his care for her in words but decided to resort to actions. Atticus gently took Y/N's face in his hands, being mindful of her cheek. He tilted her head up towards him, allowing his thumb to gently stroke her skin before he closed his eyes and connected their lips in such a soft and tender kiss that would end up leading to many more for years to come.

[scandalsavagefanfic]

Congrats on 500 followers! :D For a prompt, oh boy... I think I'll go with 'Slade is the strongest gladiator in the arena, so it's only right the gamemakers should want to see his genes passed along to the next generation of fighters. That's where Jason, an omega specially selected from the al Ghul's harem for the task, comes in.' SladeJay A/B/O, as you can probably guess. Make it as nice or as terrible as you want ;)

Soooooooo…. 

In case you couldn’t tell, I loved this idea. 

I’m not going to attach the whole fic because it clocks in at +7k and that feels like a little much for a Tumblr post :D

But here it is:

Fortune Favors the Bold - Read on AO3!

Rating: ExplicitWarnings: Non-con, a/b/oWords: 7180

EXCERPT:

————————————————————————

Slade thinks the invitations are unnecessary.

A breeder is a breeder. It’s the sire that matters and hedoesn’t see any reason to make a fuss about carrying on his line.

He is used to the fine trappings of wealth as he skirts theedges of the room like a big cat keeping an eye on its prey. The silks and goldand gems have been perks of being the best, almost since the beginning for him.Never losing a fight in the Colosseum gave him the grandest life an owned mancan ask for. He likes fighting, that rush of adrenaline, the way strategy andinstinct come together, the skill required. And he likes the luxuries that thatskill affords him.

He could have escaped ages ago, but he way he figures,everything is a fight. Might as well be here with adoring crowds

“See anything to your liking?”

Slade takes the cup of wine his owner holds out to him witha perfunctory bow of his head. Just enough deference to meet the expectationsof anyone watching. Vandal gives him a lot of slack on his lead, even more inthe day to day operations where they’ve become almost friendly, but he stillexpects Slade to behave like the slave he is when they have company.

And right now, they have a lot of company.

Littered around the room are groups of richly attired peoplestanding or sitting on piles of cushions and low chaises, eating and drinkingmerrily. Serving slaves move through the crowd, in their simple undyed tunics,carrying trays of finger foods and pitchers of wine and ale.

But that’s not what Vandal is asking about.

Slade’s gaze drifts back to the slightly raised dais in themiddle of the room. Barely-there curtains of translucent gauzy fabric separatethe soft, plush creatures on offer from the rest of the crowd.

Omegas. Not just any omegas. These are bred and trained tobe ideal pleasure slaves by the great houses and neighboring kingdoms. They’remeant to be sold or gifted to nobles and kings and princes.

They’re probably not the grandest quality options available,everyone invited knew who and what the omega is for. But the current ownersmilling about are still trying to earn favor with the Emperor and there is nosmall amount of prestige offered by Slade’s domination in the gladiatorialgames. And pleasure slaves for breeding are already a luxury item. So, theomegas are absolutely better than anything Slade would have gotten, even as afree man.

From what he can see, they’re all pretty, delicate things withdecorative gold chains dripping from their wrists and necks, precious stonesand feathers woven into their hair, lips bright with rouge, eyes smoky withkohl.

“A womb is a womb,” Slade responds with a shrug. “Can’t seewhy you’d go to all this trouble just for me.”

Vandal snorts and takes a sip of his wine.

“I wouldn’t. Not just for you anyway.” He claps a giant handon Slade’s equally giant shoulder and nods at the see of aristocrats. “I like towatch them grovel. Scramble to earn my favor.”

“Of course you do.”

He keeps his voice low. It wouldn’t due for someone tooverhear him speaking to the emperor as though they were peers.

“Besides,” Vandal continues conspiratorially. “Who saysyou’re the only one who will benefit?”

This time Slade snorts. “You expect me to share my mate?”

He’s joking. Nothing that is his is really his. He,and everything in his possession, belongs to Vandal Savage. Slade neverexpected any mate or slave he might be given to be any different.

Which is probably the reason Vandal just raises his brows,amused smile playing on his lips.

“So none of them have caught your eye, hm?”

“No. They’re all just slightly different versions of eachother. I’m sure one will be as good as the next.”

Vandal frowns at that. “We are trying to replace you, Slade.You might be invincible but you’re not immortal. I want you around to trainwhatever you spawn. So, the most important thing is that you don’t find itdifficult to perform. After that, if you don’t like the bitch, we’ll just bringit out when it’s in heat. After all, I find them all quite pleasing. They canwarm my bed in the interim.”

They both take dignified sips of their wine and Slade findshimself scanning the omegas again. They’re all slim, attractive boys and girlsa third his age. Which suits him fine, he guesses. The youthful part. He’salways been partial to youthful beauty and he certainly doesn’t want a crusty,used up omega his own age.

But otherwise they’re just more of the same kind ofbeautiful omegas flitting around the court already.

He’ll perform fine. Physically there isn’t a singleobjectionable thing about any of them. And Slade doesn’t have the time orprivacy to get to know them beyond their pleasing appearances.

“Any will be fine,” he says. “Pick the one you like best.”

With another quick glance around the room, Slade angles hisbody away from the crowd and speaks softly enough he is certain only theemperor can hear him.

“Where’s the Demon? Thought you two had other matters todiscuss and were using this as a way to meet without drawing unwantedattention.”

They both look up to briefly eye the representative fromGotham, making sure he is still on the other side of the room. They didn’t comewith a tribute, of course. Gotham doesn’t trade in slaves. But they’re a majorneighboring kingdom and relations are… constantly strained. So they keepambassadors at all times.

“Late,” Vandal mutters without moving his lips. “Ran intotrouble on the road. Should be here any min—oh… I guess he’s arrived.”

The emperor nods in the direction of the ambassador, whofinds himself being approached by what Slade knows to be his favorite omega playmatein the capitol. One of the courtesans kept on staff for people with principlesthat don’t allow for the use of slaves.

Slade watches as the first prince of Gotham is tugged awaywith a playful grin on his face. The kid is pretty for an alpha but reeks ofthat competing dominance in a way that even Vandal doesn’t. Slade liked thefirst ambassador better. The second son, whose scent was earthy and fresh undera spicy cologne he always wore. Easily the the best smelling alpha Slade hadever met. Considering Slade’s preferences, he had always tried to place himselfin the prince’s path.

Pity the kid went got himself killed.

It made a lot more sense on a purely political level, tohave the second son act as a liaison. It’s a risk under the best ofcircumstances, to send the heir to another kingdom. The bad odds go up when thefate of the younger brother is taken into account, and then plummet with thefact that the two kingdoms are so ideologically different and could feasibly beat war with each other any moment.

Slade guesses that’s why he’s here. That Prince Richard isplaying a dangerous game and investigating what happened to his brother.

If he’s not careful, Gotham will be down to its final heir.

“Ra’s asked that we… distract Gotham when he arrived.Tiger was watching for their convoy with orders to tempt the prince somewheremore private when they finally showed.”

“Why?” Slade asks, narrowing his eyes as the main doorsswing open and Ra’s al Ghul is announced. “It’s not like he’s leaving. Seemslike a temporary solution.”

“I don’t know. Ra’s was light on the details. But I do lovea good conspiracy against Gotham, especially the minor ones that they can’treally do anything about. And the Demon assures me that by the end of theevening it won’t matter. One way or the other.”

“That is… too vague. Do you trust him that much?”

Ra’s al Ghul, the Demon’s Head, strides into the room, asingle large manservant on his heels dragging a chained omega.

“Not nearly as much as I trust you,” Vandal rumbles low againsthis ear before striding off to meet the new arrivals.

Slade follows at a respectful distance, keeping his eyes andears open while feigning disinterest. Since it’s what’s expected of him, hefocuses on the omega.

The omega, presumably the one being offered, is otherwisedressed much like the ones lounging on the dais. Only his sheer green skirtsare held up with a belt of leather and gold instead of another length of silk pinnedtogether with gems. And, although he wears golden bangles around his wrists andankles and golden serpents around his muscular biceps, the heavy steel chainsthat keep his limbs bound too close together to be any trouble are veryobviously not decorative. The leather and gold collar at his throat isattached to his wrists by even more real chains where the other omegas wearcollars of lace or fine golden weaves. And none of the other omegas are wearinga muzzle across the lower portion of their face, even if it is coveredin glinting rubies.

The boy is young, just like the others, but big for anomega. Where the others are soft curves, this one is sharp muscle. He issmaller than the Alphas in the room, but he dwarfs the other omegas on offer. Hiseyes are bright aquamarine, with bursts of gold around the pupil and flecks ofvivid green throughout.

They’re angry and indignant and they are eerily familiar,even if Slade can’t immediately place them.

He subtly scents the air around the kid, already wrinklinghis nose in anticipation of the sweet, floral scents of most omegas. Only to bepleasantly surprised to find that he smells like a forest after a storm.Something tugs at his memory there too.

Despite himself, he finds that this one has absolutelycaught his eye. To the point where he’s missed the conversation between hismaster and the Demon until his name is spoken.

“Apologies, Master,” he says, only because everyone iswatching. “I was… distracted.”

Ra’s grins at his statement, the white points of his teethvisible, like he’s won some great argument.

Meanwhile, Vandal frowns at the omega.

“I said you wouldn’t be interested in an untrained omegaslave,” Vandal clarifies, narrowing his eyes at Ra’s. “If I didn’t know youbetter, I’d consider this an insult.”

“But you do know me better,” Ra’s answers easily with anunconcerned wave of a ringed hand. “You know I have the best harems andtraining in the known kingdoms. And you know I have an uncanny ability to matchhigh value slaves with the proper Alphas. Perhaps we can speak more privately?”

“What exactly is high value about a feral, beast of anomega?” Vandal hisses as the crowd presses closer.

…

[Read the rest on AO3!]