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cruelfeline · 5 years ago

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All right, friends and neighbors. We are going to engage in an Angry Post, because I am very, very tired of seeing people complain about and question both Catra and Hordak being “forgiven too quickly.” This may be a bit sassier than what you normally expect from me, so it shall be tagged as “discourse” and should be read at your own risk. It’s certainly not aimed at anyone in particular and is more intended towards a general attitude that I’ve seen. That said, I am having many emotions about cartoon characters that must be worked through, so it’s happening.

So. Let’s start with Catra. Catra, and the idea that Bow and Glimmer and Adora forgave her too quickly. That they should have demanded she pay for her crimes before providing her with affection and acceptance.

I just... here. Let’s. Let’s just. Let’s even forget about all of the trauma she has been through for the entirety of her life. Let’s shelve Shadow Weaver. Let’s ignore that. Yeah? It shouldn’t really be ignored, of course, but for the sake of simplicity. Okay.

Catra just spent who-knows-how-long on Horde Prime’s ship. Catra was just put through a hellish purification ritual, mind-chipped, and used as a vessel against her will. Catra also fell off of what was essentially a cliff, unconscious and limp, and nearly died. Potentially actually died. Whatever. Point is: physical trauma, emotional trauma, mental trauma.

What, exactly, do y’all want to do to this girl that she hasn’t already suffered? Hm? What further pain and discomfort and terror do you demand that she experience before she’s been “punished enough”?

Do you want to isolate her from friendly contact until she fulfills your random Redemption List? Make her eat her meals alone, without nary a friendly face? Leave her to her nightmares without anyone to comfort her? Shall she live with Prime’s voice and Prime’s memory inside her head, unable to reach out to anyone for reassurance and relief?

And for what? Why? What would be the purpose?

Do you think that would help? Do you think that that would help Catra get better faster? Do you think it would be good for her, to be further isolated and shunned and deprived of affection and sympathy and comfort? Is demanding penance prior to providing love really in everyone’s best interest? Is it in Catra’s?

And now: Hordak. Who apparently also doesn’t deserve any love or care or mercy until he’s paid his dues.

Hordak was born into a cult. An actual, played-totally-straight, honest to the gods cult. He was manufactured in a little tank for the sole purpose of being a body to use and abuse at his god’s whims. He was programmed and indoctrinated to be loyal and devoted to said god on a legitimately disturbing level.

And when his body started to fail, when it became too much to maintain, he was sent away to fight until battle or illness killed him.

Hordak spent decades on a strange planet, with no support system, fighting and striving in the only way he knew how to be worthy of the same god who threw him away to die. He spent those decades dealing with a chronic illness, alone, that caused him pain, shame, and legitimately threatened his life. When he finally had a brief moment of friendship, it was violently taken away from him. When he rejoined his god, he experienced only humiliation and terror before having his identity taken from him. Afterwards, his despair was so great that he subjected himself to purification agony in order to keep his painful memories at bay.

He has suffered chronic physical pain, loneliness, intense fear of failure, and a sense of self-worth so abysmally low that he thought it was a good idea to go back to his narcissistic monster of a creator in order to feel at peace with himself. He suffered all of this while blaming himself for not being strong enough to singularly overcome things no sane person would ever demand someone to overcome on their own.

Yes, he did terrible things. He waged war. He hurt people. But now? He’s done. And now, he needs support and understanding and multiple helping hands to set things right and recover from this.

Or... what? What, those of you who claim he doesn’t deserve the mercy Adora has shown him, is it that he should receive instead?

Should he be physically dealt with? Shall we withhold his life support from him, just enough to ensure he knows he’s being punished? Or, perhaps, should he be isolated again? Left alone to suffer further physical illness and self-loathing without anyone to reach out to for comfort and guidance? Should love and security be denied him until he’s... what? Rebuilt a certain number of cities? Provided a certain number of new technologies? And how should he handle his pain during this time? Should he just suffer the misery of his failures and his fear and his pain in solitude until the arbitrary Penance Quota is fulfilled?

What is the point of denying him these things? Is it actually helpful? Will it help him recover faster? Will it teach him some sort of lesson he’s apparently too stupid to learn without hurting? Will it undo the damage the war has wrought?

Or will it just satisfy some perverse vengeance fetish some people appear to have?

Look here. I don’t mean to say that Catra and Hordak shouldn’t work to help the people they’ve hurt. That’s fine. I don’t mind it. Honestly, I feel like they’ll want to.

What I mean to say is that I don’t see a point or purpose to withholding love and comfort and legitimate help from these two deeply wounded, ailing individuals until they meet some sort of personal redemption standard. I don’t see the point to it. I don’t see the advantage.

All I see is heaping more cruelty and pain onto two people who, damage though they’ve caused, have suffered so terribly and completely that they will likely be dealing with the fallout of their trauma for the rest of their lives.

And I’m tired of it. I’m tired of these takes complaining about Catra and Hordak “getting off easy.” They didn’t get off easy. They suffered. And extending that suffering to fulfill someone’s completely arbitrary sense of “justice” is cruel. And pointless. And entirely against the messages and themes of this show.

All right. I’m done. I’ve had my hissy fit. Back to less sassy posts.

#catra #hordak #discourse #yes i know this is a dumb cartoon but i have emotions and this is tumblr so those emotions are going to be posted gosh darn it

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heathsbitch · 4 years ago

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Treat You Better ➳ PEAKY BLINDERS

xxix. NEW BEGINNINGS

Grey surrounded the girl. Everything was the same, every colour was the same, every day was the same. Ivy had lost count of the days she'd been stuck in that cell. How many days had it been since she was arrested? Since she'd seen her family? Since she'd seen Finn, or Michael? A couple, a few, weeks, months, years? No, it couldn't be that long even though it felt that way. She could feel her mind slowly spiraling out of control. Her thoughts were no longer straight, she didn't eat much of the food that was rarely provided for her. There was only three things keeping her sane in that tiny cell of hers. The thought of seeing Finn again, explaining everything to him, finally being with him properly. The thought of seeing Michael again, safe and unscathed. But she was unsure of whether her relationship would continue down the same path if she did get with Finn. It was a situation she had ample time to think about, yet she just couldn't come to a conclusion. The final thought that kept spurring Ivy on...

Killing Tommy Shelby. Getting revenge for what he'd done to the girl, to Polly, to Arthur, John, and Michael. She would get payback, one way or another.

But for now, she was stuck in that prison cell. Lying on her back, her crystal eyes staring at the ceiling, a song upon her lips.

"Have you no idea that you're in deep? I've dreamt about you nearly every night this week How many secrets can you keep? 'Cause there's this tune I found That makes me think of you somehow and I play it on repeat Until I fall asleep, spillin' drinks on my settee,"

Once again, Finn and Michael played in her mind as she sung to herself. Tears forming in her eyes.

"Crawlin' back to you Ever thought of callin' when You've had a few? 'Cause I always do Maybe I'm too Busy bein' yours To fall for somebody new..."

But her singing was cut short when a Warden burst into her cell. Ivy immediately shot up, she wasn't expecting anyone. This shouldn't be happening. The man grabbed the girl and dragged her out of her cell. "This shouldn't be happening. What's going on?" She shouted at the man, but there was no reply. She was heaved through plain corridor after plain corridor, kicking and screaming at the Warden, trying to break free. But it was of no use. She was too weak. Ivy was led into a final corridor, another woman being led by Wardens was there. "Polly? Polly!" The girl screamed at the woman but she barely acknowledged her, she was too busy muttering words to herself.

Ivy turned her eyes from the woman to the end of the corridor. Nooses, one for Polly, one for Ivy. "No, no, please." The girl pleaded, but she was still dragged to the noose. Her whole body was shaking, her eyes were wide, her heart beat so hard it felt like it was coming out of her chest. As the rope was tightened around her neck, the girl accepted her fate. No one was coming to save her, no one was going to come swooping in with a last minute pardon. Ivy turned to Polly one last time and she saw that the woman had accepted her fate too, a prayer now upon her lips. The girl thought of all the good things in her life, reuniting with her family, forgiving them and them forgiving her, finding love with them again, finding another family in the Shelbys, finding love with Finn, finding Michael and all those times they had spent wrapped up in each other. Despite the bad times, the lowest of lows, there were high points to the girl's life. She just didn't want it to end so soon.

The priest that stood next to the women finished his prayer and the Warden tightened his hand around the lever that would kill Polly Gray and Ivy Solomons. The girl took in a final deep breath and closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable drop.

But the drop never came. Ivy snapped open her eyes. A saviour at the end of the corridor, a piece of paper in hand. A pardon.

Buzzing filled the girl's eyes, her knees almost buckled underneath her. She had been saved, someone, something had saved her. Hot tears poured from her eyes as the Wardens removed the noose from around her and Polly's neck. Almost as soon as the rope was taken off of her, Polly fell into the girl, sobs racking her body. Slowly, the pair crumpled to the floor together, tears staining each others prison clothes.

Polly and Ivy were free. Surely Arthur, John, and Michael had got the pardon too?

Everyone returned back to their homes as if nothing happened. They had scars on their hearts, yet they didn't bare them for all the world to see. There were noticeable differences in each of them, but none of them were affected as much as Polly. She sat alone in a quiet room all day, only muttering a few words to herself and never eating.

"Do you think she'll be alright without you here?" Ada asked Ivy as the girl packed her suitcase. It had been a few days since they were released and Ada thought it would be best for the girl to get away for a while instead of festering in the house or doing anything rash straight away. She reluctantly agreed to the trip to America. "Hopefully. Besides, she has Michael so she won't be alone." Ivy pulled various garments out of her wardrobe to throw into her case. "Because we all know how reliable Michael is." Ada sarcastically quipped from the girl's bed. "Hey," The girl lightly scolded her by throwing a shirt in her direction. "She is his mother at the end of the day. He won't let her suffer." A couple of moments of silence passed over the pair before a knock sounded at the door.

"Are you decent?" Michael questioned from the other side of the door. "No, I'm completely naked." Ivy said, not meaning it. Mickey entered the room nonetheless, devious thoughts in his head. His eyes widened at the sight of Ada sat on her bed. "Relax, Mickey. She knows." The man cleared his throat before speaking, "I wanted to say goodbye. If we could have the room..." He gestured to Ada. The woman winked at the girl as she left. "I'll be in the car." She said before leaving Ivy's bedroom and closing the door behind her. As soon as he heard the latch on the door, Michael engulfed Ivy in a hug, his lips pressing against hers. They'd felt closer after their ordeal in prison. But they hadn't slept with each other since their escapade in the kitchen before Charles was taken. "Should've spent last night in my room, could've said goodbye properly." He muttered as he peppered kisses along the girl's neck. "I was planning things with Ada. Don't leave any marks." She warned him and he pulled away, following her request. "I'll miss you." Ivy wrapped her arms around his neck as his slid around her waist, "I'll miss you too. But we can still call as much as possible. We both know we don't sleep much anymore so the time difference shouldn't be a problem."

"But I can't fuck you through the phone, can I, princess?" His eyebrow raised as the words left his thick lips. "No, but we have our own hands and imaginations, we'll still be able to hear each other," She whispered in his ear before trailing her own line of kisses down his neck, sucking a mark onto it. A moan left his lips as he closed his eyes. "I should get going, we don't have a lot of time." Michael nodded and they pulled away. "I'll help." He picked up the girl's bags and she followed him down the stairs and to the car. "Goodbye, Pol," No answer. A quick look was passed between Michael and Ivy, he knew what he had to do. A final kiss was planted onto the girl's lips before she got into the car, a few quiet words passed between the two.

"Can we stop at Finn's house, please. I won't be long, I have something to give him." The girl asked Ada, she smiled and nodded. "Be quick." They pulled up to his house and Ivy climbed out of the car. She pulled a letter out of her pocket and posted it through the door. Ivy and Finn hadn't seen each other since before she was arrested. The girl had stalled it. She knew she'd have to explain things with Mickey to the teen and after everything she'd just been through, she wasn't as ready to talk as she was before. So she decided to write the teen a letter instead. It read...

My dearest Finn,

I hope this letter finds you well and in good health. The decision to write to you rather than call you or visit you was not one I made lightly. I settled on a letter as it would be most beneficial for you and our relationship. It's also good practice for your reading skills!

I am aware that we are not in an ideal situation and things are still raw for us both. I hope in future we will be able to communicate with one another better and our relationship will not suffer because of the influence of certain individuals. I promise I will explain my relations with Michael in due course . That conversation is one to be had in person, not over paper or the phone. Please lend me your patience in this matter.

My reason for writing this is simple, I am going away for a while and I wanted to let you know. I'm going to America with Ada. I will return, that I can assure you. However, I am unsure of when that will happen. Yet again, I beg of your patience. I swear on my love for you that I shall make the wait worth your while.

By the time you receive this letter, I will be gone. But hold fast for me, please. I will continue to write to you regularly. I would really appreciate it and love if you would take the time to write back. But, by no means, should you feel obliged to do so. If you do, don't worry about spelling or anything of that sort. It's the intention that matters.

I miss you dearly. Don't do anything silly while I'm gone, keep practicing, stay strong!

My love always, your doll,

Ivy Solomons x

xxx. EXPLORATION*

MASTERLIST

TAG LIST:

@lemur46

#finn shelby #harry kirton #michael gray #finn cole #smut #fluff #angst #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #alfie solomons #treat you better

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ravencyclebigbang · 4 years ago

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Raven Cycle Big Bang 2020 Masterlist

The 2020 Raven Cycle/Call Down The Hawk Big Bang has come to a close!

Twenty-six teams (and some…) created a ton of great fanfic and fanart over the course of the event. When we started this event we couldn’t have known what 2020 would end up being, so our appreciation goes to all participants for being so resilient and marvellous and sticking with us until the very end.

A Big Bang is traditionally a fandom event that produces 10k+ words fan fictions and associated art, all fully complete. That’s all the reading and looking your art might desire!!!

Please make sure to show your love to all creators by commenting, kudosing and sending loving pigeons! And stay tuned, because we might have a little Post-Bang Giveaway ready for you…

We have an Ao3 collection in case you want to filter by tags and ratings and the like. Below the cut is a full master list of the various contributions to the TRC Big Bang, so they can be browsed with ease.

Team #1: that perilous stuff (which weighs upon the heart)

Fanfic: AO3 Art: Tumblr

Writer: @saywhatjessie (tumblr)/JessJesstheBest (AO3)

Artist: @pygmypouter (tumblr)

Beta: @rroguess (tumblr)

Synopsis: “Uh, Mr. Parrish? You’d like to read for Lady Macbeth?” Adam felt his eye twitch, even while he nodded. It was true that even at an all boy’s school where boys would have had to read the female parts, Adam probably wouldn’t have normally volunteered to read Lady Macbeth. But Ronan had called him a nerd. So he was prepared to be the biggest nerd Ronan had seen. “I know what I’m about, ma’am.” Or Ronan and Adam volunteer to read for Macbeth and Lady Macbeth in class. Shenanigans ensue.

Team #2: Uncanny Omens

Fanfic: AO3 | gthechangeling Art: Tumblr | drawfulneutral Art: Tumblr

Writer: @yesterdarling (tumblr)/YesterDarling (AO3)

Artist: @gthechangeling (tumblr)

Artist: @drawfulneutral (tumblr)

Beta: ghostangel (AO3)

Synopsis: The Forces of Heaven and Hell have always assumed that the world would end. More specifically, they always assumed the world would precisely end on a Saturday evening, just a few days after the Antichrist’s birthday. The Armies are forming, the Four Horsemen have been drawn out, and the Antichrist is coming into his full power. Yet not everyone longs for Armageddon. Adam and Ronan - an Angel and Demon living in rural Virginia - most certainly don’t want it to; not when Earth has so many libations that they’ve come to enjoy. Besides, Armageddon without humans having a say in the matter wouldn’t be fair, would it? With their livelihoods and the lives of Mankind on the line, they plot to throw a wrench in the Divine Plan. It’d go far easier if anyone knew where the Antichrist was, though.

Team #3: We seek someone to sew sutures in the places where we’re torn

Fanfic: AO3 | Art: Tumblr

Writer: @blueseyforthesoul (tumblr)/kirani (AO3)

Artist: @thecorvidrotation (tumblr)

Synopsis: Gansey isn’t the half of his soulmate pair with a name, and Blue hasn’t said anything so he doesn’t think she has his name either. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a huge crush on the cute bassist of his roommate’s band. Shenanigans ensue.

Team #4: You Better Shape Up

Fanfic: AO3 | Art: Tumblr

Writer: stop_whining (AO3)

Artist: @attentionhoard (tumblr)

Synopsis: A Pynch fic inspired by the classic 1978 movie/musical Grease for TRC Big Bang 2020.

Team #6: Pranks and Pups!

Fanfic: AO3 | Art: Instagram

Writer: @comfy-spot (tumblr)/RandyKorn (AO3)

Artist: manao.ri (instagram)

Synopsis: The end of winter break rolls around, and Ronan finds himself stuck in a depressive episode despite the miracle of having his friends all together once again. Blue and Henry bully him into a Platonic Date Night Extraordinaire (which isn’t so platonic on Henry’s part). There’s gelato, misdemeanors, dog piles, a duck, dance parties, and even a car chase - everything necessary to force one Ronan Lynch into admitting that he’s just as deserving of love and care as the rest of them.

Team #7: In gardens all wet with rain

Fanfic: AO3 | forestgeitart Art: Tumblr | purrsnicket Art: Tumblr

Writer: @magicienetreveur (tumblr)/hollyanneg (AO3)

Artist: @forestgeitart (tumblr)

Artist: @purrsnicket (tumblr)

Beta: @semicolonsandsimiles (tumblr)

Synopsis: In a land where magic is real, Ronan spends most of his time hiding from it in the palace gardens, where he’d once met a boy who could tell the future. There’s love letters, a masquerade ball, and an evil plot to be foiled.

Team #8: The Waiting Game

Fanfic: AO3 | Art: Tumblr

Writer: @inoctavo (tumblr)/inoctavo (AO3)

Artist: @lenaisanerd (tumblr)

Beta: @emjenenla (tumblr)

Synopsis: When all they can do is wait, Declan’s mind catastrophizes… then tries to plan for them. It’s a good recipe to make more problems when everyone’s gone around the emotional ringer. Featuring existential crises, denial, tough decisions, Declan meeting Opal for the first time, and Jordan painting Declan like one of her French girls.

Team #9: if love is just a game (then how come it’s no fun)

Fanfic: AO3 | Art: Tumblr

Writer: @toast-the-unknowing (tumblr)/shinealightonme (AO3)

Artist: @rroguess (tumblr)

Synopsis: Ronan probably shouldn’t have sworn at the stranger he runs into leaving Gansey’s favorite hipster coffee shop. Blue probably shouldn’t have tracked down Adam’s soulmate without his permission. But they did, and now all four of their lives are tangled up together, whether they like it or not.

Team #10: Strange as Angels

Fanfic: AO3 | Art: Tumblr

Writer: @skyermirth (tumblr)/skyermirth (AO3)

Artist: @squash1-squash2 (tumblr)

Beta: @galwaygremlin (tumblr)

Synopsis: Adam takes a job for the summer as Caretaker of the Barns, which local legend says is haunted. Adam soon finds out this is true when he meets the resident “ghost,” who isn’t very scary with his mohawk and grouchy demeanor but romantic heart. Falling in love with a ghost was not what Adam had planned for his summer. (Loosely based on the 1947 movie “The Ghost and Mrs. Muir”.)

Team #11: Dream Killer

Fanfic: AO3 | Art: Tumblr

Writer: @attentionhoard (tumblr)/mvsic_bxxks_stvdy (AO3)

Artist: @sinplaytheartist (tumblr)

Synopsis: Ronan Lynch is a man with extraordinary talents. If he can bring a living, breathing bird from a dream, what’s stopping him from bringing his best friend back from the grave? But some challenges are too great for one dreamer alone.

Team #12: Bread & Circuses

Fanfic: AO3 | Art: Instagram

Writer: @galwaygremlin (tumblr)/okay_pretender (AO3)

Artist: crystaline_art (instagram)

Beta: @inoctavo (tumblr)

Team #14: Ag iarraidh forais i bhfodhomhain

Fanfic: AO3 | forestgeit Art: Tumblr | homunculiii Art: Tumblr

Writer: @semicolonsandsimiles (tumblr)/semicolonsandsimiles (AO3)

Artist: @forestgeitart (tumblr)

Artist: @homunculiii (tumblr)

Beta: @g-reywaren (tumblr)/applepi314 (AO3)

Synopsis: Adam is more surprised that he came to Ireland at all than he is to find a doorway to the Otherworld. When Persephone gives you cryptic predictions about your future, you’re almost certainly about to stumble into some magic. And for all his exterior bluster, Ronan seems almost relieved to have someone to visit Tír na nÓg with. But things turn complicated quickly when, during what was supposed to be a quick trip through the doorway, they encounter Ronan’s little brother - who is definitely human and definitely in New York. When Adam ends up back in Ireland long term, he finds himself increasingly entangled in the magic of the Lynch bookshop, the Lynch family lore, and one Lynch in particular.

Team #15: See You Later Alligator

Fanfic: AO3 | Art: Instagram

Writer: @crostiina (tumblr)/crostiina (AO3)

Artist: fricklefracklefloof (instagram)

Beta: @creativefiend19 (tumblr)

Synopsis: “Adam.” he read out loud, because he didn’t know what else to do, because he was bad at conversation yet he definitely felt the need to say something.

He thought Adam was going to be even more annoyed and tell him off for being there and close and talking to him. He didn’t know why he did, maybe it was just that night messing with him, maybe it was just him never feeling right anywhere he went. Adam just shrugged.

“Told you I wasn’t Janine.”

Graduation year, Ronan Lynch is wasting his time with horrible friends and too many vices. Things change when he meets Adam Parrish, local (apparently) sane person and ambitious soul working the graveyard shift at a gas station’s market as he waits for acceptance letters to come. Somehow, they both happen to become the best part of the other person’s day.

Team #17: weekends are for the dogs

Fanfic: AO3 | Art: Tumblr

Writer: @royai (tumblr)/rizahawkaye (AO3)

Artist: @cheeriosnuggles (tumblr)

Synopsis: Ronan Lynch - fresh off the loss of his father, the truth of his Dreams - has so much to learn about himself, about Dreamers, about Niall, and about the black-coated wolf that tears its way through Henrietta.

Team #18: primavera

Fanfic: AO3 | Tumblr: Art

Writer: @manonblaccbeak (tumblr)/Imnotweirdjustwriting (AO3)

Artist: @gthechangeling (tumblr)

Beta: @pnrrish (tumblr)

Synopsis: the rebirth of Adam through art

OR: a renaissance AU featuring the gangsey

Team #19: trouble is (i don’t wanna let go)

Fanfic: AO3 | gouachemole Art: Tumblr | ladvy Art: Tumblr

Writer: @adverbialstarlight (tumblr)/adverbialstarlight (AO3)

Artist: @gouachemole (tumblr)

Artist: @ladvy (tumblr)

Beta: @violettfemme (tumblr)

Synopsis: It’s been two years since Henrietta’s infamous supervillain, Apothecary, disappeared from the streets and left the beloved hero Greywaren alone without his nemesis – and former secret lover. But now he’s back and determined, this time to team up and save the city from an even larger threat.

aka a pynch superhero au

Team #21: Love in the Time of Socialism

Fanfic: AO3 | Art 1: Tumblr | Art 2: Tumblr

Writer: @oldkingyounggod (tumblr)/aurumdalseni (AO3)

Artist: @effwit (tumblr)

Beta: @crostiina (tumblr)

Synopsis: This is a story about a magician with a terrible history. The death of Adam Parrish’s father after he leaves for college means a chance at closure with that part of his life, but he’s not on the journey alone. At his side is a king, whose loyalty never faltered, no matter how much the world threw at them, or how many times they couldn’t agree on how to live their lives. This is also the story of a dreamer, who loved his best friends so much that he didn’t dare risk losing them by asking for something they couldn’t give. So kisses that could have been became kisses that never were, and Ronan Lynch tells himself he’ll make his home a place they can return to. They’ll all come together again for Adam, even fierce little Blue Sargent, so he doesn’t have to face his past alone. And while he works at closing those doors, he’ll make his way into places where all the love Adam, Ronan and Gansey have built up over the years will finally have the space to bloom.

Team #22: we will raze this earth together

Fanfic: AO3 | Art: Tumblr

Writer: @teddylupin (tumblr)/perfect-porcelain (AO3)

Artist: @kojotei (tumblr)

Synopsis: Ronan is the heir to the Cabeswater throne, a mythical place that was thought to be lost to time. He is the only one of the late King Niall’s son to inherit the royal ability to shift into a dragon. He doesn’t want the throne. In his attempt to escape, he is captured and brought to the kingdom of Henrietta where the court magician, Adam is tasked with attempting to communicate with him, only Adam doesn’t know he has a human form. All Adam sees is the beautiful monstrosity that is Ronan.

Team #24: Heavy lies the head

Fanfic: AO3 | Art: Tumblr

Writer: @tinyarmedtrex (tumblr)/tinyarmedtrex (AO3)

Artist: @non-platonic-murphamy (tumblr)

Beta: @waywardsoul-s (tumblr)

Synopsis: Adam can’t stand the court magician, Ronan, but when his King sends the two of them on a quest Adam has no choice but to learn to work with the other man.

Team #25: A voice inside me sang your name

Fanfic: AO3 | Art: Tumblr

Writer: @maskingfragility (tumblr)/Fata_Morgana (AO3)

Artist: @pank0 (tumblr)

Beta: @campbraceyourself (tumblr)

Synopsis: Adam Parrish has recently gotten engaged, he works for a prestigious law firm in DC and he is about to be made partner. His life is millions miles away from the trailer park in Henrietta, he has accomplished all he has ever wanted, so when the call of an ancient, magical forest starts resonating inside him he is faced not just with his past, but with the possibility that his present is not what he really wants.

Team #27: Life is a Fucking Nightmare

Fanfic: AO3 | Art: Tumblr

Writer: @sterlynwrites (tumblr)/sterlynsilverrose (AO3)

Artist: @sinplaytheartist (tumblr)

Synopsis: We’ve All Read “Dream Thieves” at this point.

All the reader sees is the end of the nightmare of Joseph Kavinsky. But, what we don’t really see is exactly what leads up to that. This is an unapologetic look at Joseph Kavinsky and his daily life. It gives weight to the words:

“Life is a fucking nightmare.”

Team #31: The Creation of Adam

Fanfic: AO3 | Art: Tumblr

Writer: @pynches (tumblr)/clawsnbeak (AO3)

Artist: @purrsnicket (tumblr)

Beta: glam_reaper2 (AO3)

Synopsis: When Ronan Lynch enrolled in art school just to mess with his brother, he never thought he would actually be good at it. Now, with only a few months left before he is supposed to graduate, he has to turn in one of the biggest art pieces yet. Enter Adam Parrish, a poor student who wouldn’t say no to some extra money. When he saw an advertisement on Craigslist looking for a model to help with an art project, he didn’t hesitate to react. Working together seemed easy enough but there might be more between them than they bargained for.

Team #34: The Royal Treatment

Fanfic: AO3 | Art: Tumblr

Writer: @oldguybones (tumblr/Oldguybones (AO3)

Artist: @the-ronan-cycle (tumblr)

Synopsis: When Adam Parrish turned eighteen, he became the rightful heir to rule his home country of Henrietta. For years, he looked forward to taking over the nightmarish reign of his father and make the changes he wanted to see. But there was a huge problem. To officially hold the title, he first must wed and his foul mouthed, farm hand boyfriend, Ronan Lynch, knew nothing about royalty. Adam knew though, that there was no one better to rule by his side. So he must teach Ronan how to behave in the face of royalty without changing what he loved so dearly about him.

With time running out, will he be able to do that in time to gain the current King’s approval?

Team #38: and could you carry me through no man’s land

Fanfic: AO3 | Art: Tumblr

Writer: @mletart (tumblr)/mletart (AO3)

Artist: @wy-mackk (tumblr)

Beta: @stadamparrish (tumblr)

Synopsis: For The Raven Cycle 2020 Big Bang

In which Ronan Lynch gets himself into trouble with the High Council and Adam Parrish ends up taking Ronan on as his familiar. Adam learns the secrets of the Lynch family, and they both learn about magic and about each other. It goes a lot better than either of them would have expected at the start.

Team #39: Weirdos’ Voices

Fanfic: AO3 | Art: Tumblr

Writer: @flyde (tumblr)/parttimehuman (AO3)

Artist: @shamanda-lie (tumblr)

Synopsis: Without ever having seen the guy, Ronan is crushing hard on one of the construction workers renovating his building. Sitting against the door to his apartment, listening to the beautiful voice and oddly entertaining ramblings of a certain Ganseyboy, Ronan wonders what it would be like if they ever met. It happens when he least expects it…

Team #40: the first problem was putting us in charge of a kingdom

Fanfic: AO3 | Art: Tumblr

Writer: @bipolarronanlynchevangelist (tumblr)/elliptical (AO3)

Artist: @turqidoodles (tumblr)/Turq_I (AO3)

Synopsis: Ronan Lynch loses control of his magic, which is the catalyst for a lot of shit, because he’s the first proven user of chaos magic in�� basically ever. Gansey’s trying to be a good king despite his fears that there may be no such thing. Adam Parrish works beside him, earning his terrifying reputation through psychic study and occasional gray morality. Blue Sargent can’t leave her home or she’ll sicken and die, and her wanderlust is driving her to seek less-than-sensible solutions. Noah Czerny knows a lot about healing, but he’s not omnipotent, and he’s a little tired of being asked to clean up everyone else’s messes. Declan Lynch doesn’t trust the crown. He especially doesn’t trust the crown with his little brother. Mysteriously, all of this leads to rather a lot of conflict.

#the raven cycle #call down the hawk #trc #cdth #trc big bang 2020 #fic rec #bang masterpost

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firebirdsdaughter · 4 years ago

Note

We really ignoring Horobi murdering Izu who not trying to kill him and the fact while he didn’t started this cycle. He sure as hell doing himself no favors by murdering Izu who Artuo closet ally and act all surprised when Artuo hate him. Not acknowledging he the cause for this malice in Artuo. Should Artuo still try to get though to him even though he murder Izu who got no back up compare to Jin who died before and can very well be bought back again?

…

Uh.

Can I just ask… Why are you on my blog? It’s not like I’ve been subtle about my love for Horobi. And you must be on my blog bc I’m pretty sure I haven’t put any of those thoughts in the main tag, and have been carefully tagging them as complaining/negativity/opinions/salt.

1) I’m not saying Horobi was ‘right,’ I’m saying he isn’t in a sane place right now and this wasn’t a ‘cold blooded murder,’ esp bc I’m pretty sure he understands that he regrets it now. He’s been trained for more than ten years to respond to things w/ extremity and violence, as evidenced by the Ark having him repeatedly take out or try to take out things/people that were making him feel in any way—what happened w/ Midori, why he was driven to attack Jin in 41. From Horobi’s extremely damaged and fucked up perspective, he just wanted to make the pain and confusion go away. He didn’t try to hunt out Izu, she approached him, and knowingly endangered herself. Which is why I’m also calling the fact that we’ve seen Izu move faster than a car, she could have dodged the shot and didn’t, so it’s ineffective as drama bc it was easily preventable. I’m calling bs on the writing.

2) Horobi’s definitely not surprised that Aruto hates him? He might be surprised that Aruto went full Ark (I am, too, that feels out of character, I would’ve expected him to just go regular berserk on his own). I’m not saying it’s wrong for Aruto to be mad. Like I just said, I would have expected him to go berserk on his own, which might have ended up leading to Jin’s death anyway. Like… Where did you get that. Actually don’t answer that. Aruto getting angry and going after Horobi would have been one thing, though the way he went Ark is weird to me. What bugs me is the way it’s being treated/reacted to as a ‘black and white’ situation when it should be more grey. Horobi is mentally unwell, and there were multiple factors at work/responsible for the situation. This isn’t just ‘Horobi is a bad person it’s all his fault.’ This is also ‘contrived drama by the writers who are hoping we forgot Izu can break land-speed records.’

2.5) I’m not expecting Aruto to reach out to him at this point. Hell, I’m not even saying ‘forgive’ him, even though I think by this point Horobi has figured out he regrets it. What should really happen is someone else intervenes and keeps them away from each other until both are more stable. Really, someone should have stepped in to control that on both ends. Aruto shouldn’t have been left alone. Neither of them should have. I do think more effort should have gone into reaching out to him before it happened. If they hadn’t been alone in there/if someone w/ a little more ‘emotional/mental experience’ had been present, things might’ve gone differently.

3) Izu still not having a back up is ridiculous, literally everyone knows Aruto is Zero-One, this feels like just terrible planning/lack lustre writing imo, and on top of that, Horobi didn’t know she had no backup. Still doesn’t make his reaction ‘okay,’ bc violence is never the answer, but he’s shown before he believes in bringing AI back through backups, so it may not even have occurred to him that she wouldn’t have one. Additionally, we don’t know Jin has a back up. We can’t say he ‘can very well be brought back again’ bc we don’t actually know that. We don’t know if ZAIA kept that data, Williamson just said they ‘repaired’ him. And that’s also it, even if it exists, ZAIA has it. Not Horobi. Also… This is KR, they could figure out some MacGyver to bring Izu back, even if it’s not clear now, though that’s more of a meta thing. Actually, what I would love to happen is Horobi helps bring her back, maybe as part of therapy.

Look, disagreeing is fine. That’s why I’ve been trying to keep my negative reactions out of the main tag. I’m not trying to get into fights, I’m just venting. I’m analysing what I see and interpret. It’s not that Horobi was ‘right’ it’s that he’s mentally and emotionally unstable rn bc of what happened to him, he should not be expected to know how to react calmly to things, esp if under pressure and in an intense situation. I also literally just wrote a post about how I don’t think it’s fair to blame Izu entirely, either. I comment about blaming the humans (esp Yua and Fuwa (whom I love dearly), but they did escalate the situation and then leave Aruto alone there, wtf did they leave him alone???) bc if they’d listened to Izu at the start we’d likely not be in this mess, or if they’d actually tried to reach out to him before, things could have gone differently.

This is my point of view. If this is upsetting to you, which it seems to be from the tone of this Ask, I recommend blocking my blog, bc these are my feelings on this, and I’m not going to change. I’d block you so that you wouldn’t have to see my posts, but then you wouldn’t be able to see this answer, which I hope explains some of my position, so I’ll leave it for now. Besides, in the end, it’s just a tv show, and it doesn’t actually matter, for all I can get very emotional about things, esp bc Horobi as a character became very important to me.

I hope at least some of that was coherent. I have a hard time articulating my thoughts (part of why I repeat myself so much), and I have been extremely exhausted for the past few days bc my sleep schedule is messed up, so it’s even worse.

I’m not apologising for having an opinion and an interpretation of a piece of media, and I never will. That’s not something I should be required to apologise for. I’m not hurting anyone, bc, again, it’s just a tv show. I’m just in my corner, rambling. I don’t mean any of it as an attack against people who disagree, everyone interpret things differently. For instance, I have things in media that I dislike so much it makes me feel physically ill to think about them, but I just filter them out and it’s fine. I’m even on friendly terms (I hope?) w/ people who like some of those things that make me feel sick, but it’s fine, bc we just don’t discuss them. I know people I disagree about things w/, less viscerally, and have actually had discussions w/ them about that stuff.

Having differing opinions is one thing, but I don’t appreciate the aggressive tone here. I’m saying this partially bc I do understand getting very fired up about something, even if it’s fictional (*looks pointedly at my own blog*), so I’m assuming you just feel very strongly on the subject, but please be aware of how your words might come across—bc the another part of the reason I’m saying this is that I know if I had been in a slightly different mood when I saw this, it might have greatly upset me to unwell levels. I hope it was not your intention to attack me on anything, and that this is just something you feel passionate about, but as someone who often struggles w/ tone and knows it… Please consider it. It can be harmful.

#Anonymous #Asks #Firebird Opinions #Firebird Personal #Firebird Negativity #Spoilers #as it is… I have a stress headache #lovely #like I said I hope you were not intending to cause harm #it's just a tv show sure but sometimes its not what the words are about it's the tone #and for someone w/ depression and anxiety that manifest as paranoia and nonexistent self esteem…#you're lucky I was on my walk and listening to music otherwise I'd've been much less reasonable #…#that sounds like a threat doesn't it #I didn't mean it like that #I know I struggle w/ tone when I get passionate #so I'm trying to spread awareness #I hope you didn't meant to be hurtful #but please know that your words did come across that way

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let-it-raines · 5 years ago

Text

Catch Me If You Can (11/?)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

A/N: I’ve been really working on this behind the scenes and have about 80% of the story finished now. With that being said, if I start posting twice a week (hopefully), do you guys prefer a posting schedule or my usual surprise?

Anyways, this chapter picks up where the last one took off! Thanks for reading, pals ❤️ @resident-of-storybrooke you’re the real MVP ❤️

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

Tag list: @royalswan @shey-starsfury @sals86 @iam2307 @ashley-knightingale @karenfrommisthaven @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @wellhellotragic @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81 @galaxyzxstark @qualitycoffeethings @thejollyroger-writer

-/-

Warmth radiates over Emma as her body starts to wake up, her senses slowly coming back to her while she thinks about how comfortable this bed is.

This bed.

That’s not her bed.

It’s a hotel bed.

And not her hotel bed either.

She tries to keep her body from going stiff, tries to keep herself from jumping and running away, but with the way that her heart is beating, it may very well power her into the hallway and up the elevator to her bedroom all on its own. Is she anxious or excited or every single feeling in the world all at once?

Probably that last one. Maybe exclude anger and grief and all of the emotions in whatever sector that is.

Right now, she’s got Killian’s body pressed into hers, cradling her really. She’s never known for people to actually sleep like this, most of them drifting apart to their own sides of the bed, but it seems like they’ve somehow drifted together.

(Her life is kind of resembling a romantic comedy right now, and she’s not sure how she feels about that continuously happening when she’s never been one to be a main character in her own story. Until these past few years, at least.)

A solid chest is molded into her back, a strong arm is wrapped around her stomach with its hand sitting under her sweater against the bare skin of her belly, and a leg that is very much not hers is stuck in between her thighs. That would be nothing if she couldn’t feel Killian’s erection pressing into the crease of her ass, and she can’t decide if that feels good or if she’s ready to get the hell out of Dodge.

(It feels really good.)

Woah. When did she start quoting things about Western movies? Has she ever even seen a Western movie? That’s probably completely beside the point. Her life is apparently a romantic comedy, not a Western.

And maybe a bit of a drama and horror film wrapped all up in one. A new genre altogether.

Killian’s breathing is so steady behind her, the warmth of his breath coming out onto her neck and making a shiver run down her spine, that she knows that he’s still asleep, that he doesn’t know what’s happening. It’s comfortable even if she’s still freaking out a bit, but she’s kind of coming into the idea of letting someone hold her, if only for a little while.

She likes him. They’re…dating, right? Sleeping over and spooning and sharing emotional backstories before making out is totally something that’s normal for people who are dating.

Emotional backstories.

Killian had an awful day yesterday. She thought maybe it was just his pitching, that he was simply having an off day out on the field, and while that was true, she had no idea he was harboring all of that about his parents, his father specifically. For as much information as there is out there on Killian, his family isn’t something many people know about. She didn’t. All she knew was that he had an older brother and these two adorable little nieces.

A dead mom and a deadbeat dad weren’t something she ever really considered.

She doesn’t…she doesn’t have parents, never had that support system, never knew what it was like to be loved by the two people who were supposed to love her more than anything, and as angry and upset and saddened as that makes her, at least she never had any other expectations other than to be let down by them.

With everything they failed at, they’ve always excelled in that particular category.

Suddenly, there’s movement behind her, fingers moving across her stomach and lips moving across her neck in such a soft way that she melts back into Killian so that she can be as physically close to him as possible. All of that fear and anxiousness dissipates, if only for a moment.

“I can practically hear you thinking,” he mumbles into her skin, his voice dark and gravely as heat curls between her thighs. “Do you always wake up and stiffen like a board?”

Do not make a morning wood joke, Emma. Do not.

“I am not stiff,” she weakly protests, trying to let some of the tenseness in her body release as she sinks down against Killian so that her foot runs over his calf. His hand is really warm. “I didn’t know that we fell asleep here last night.”

It’s Killian’s turn to stiffen, but only for a second, before he’s pulling back from her and encouraging her to roll over to face him with a tug of his hand on her stomach. She does, trying not to elbow him or do something else painful, and really hoping that her mascara didn’t run. Oh shit. She still has on her makeup from yesterday. Her skin is going to murder her.

Killian, of course, is unfairly attractive and sleep-rumpled, his hair sticking in several unnatural directions and his beard a little scruffier than usual, red pillow creases marking his face as he smiles at her, a soft little thing that doesn’t quite reach his squinted eyes.

Oh boy is she in trouble with this one.

“Judging by the fact that I didn’t wake up alone, I’m guessing you’re okay with that?”

“I mean, I don’t think I could have gotten out of the strangle hold you put me in without waking you up so…”

She trails off, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth and trying to decide what to say. She’s never been good at this morning after stuff. Neal didn’t care for showing affection outside of sex, and with Walsh it always felt…unnatural. And it doesn’t help that the little red mark on Killian’s cheek makes her want to spill her own secrets about her not-so-great family life.

“Swan, what’s going on in that mind of yours this morning?”

“I was,” she starts, her heart practically a jackhammer in her chest at this point. Killian can probably feel it. “I was thinking about how honored I was to have you share your past with me last night, and I was thinking maybe I should tell you about mine too.”

“You don’t have to do that. I didn’t share for you to feel like you have to as well.”

“I know, I know. I just – I want to.”

He nods his head at the same time that his hand flexes against her hip, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into the skin above her leggings. “If you want to, love.”

“Yeah, yeah, I do.” She takes a deep breath, knowing that it’s not enough and starts. “Well, I told you about Ruth and David and how I love them, but they’re not my biological family or anything. That shouldn’t give me any hang ups, but it does because…because I have trouble thinking of Ruth as my mom when I spent my entire childhood thinking of someone woman I don’t even know that way, which is really fucked up because I do think of David as being my brother and Leo my nephew.”

His brow quirks, “What do you mean?”

“I – I never imagined having any siblings, but when I was in foster care, I always thought about my parents and what they were doing or what they were like. I used to have these crazy dreams about them, you know?”

“Yeah?” Killian reaches over and tucks her hair behind her ear, his fingers light to the touch as her eyes close for one second simply to give herself some time. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. It’s just…I would make up stories for why they had to give me up. Maybe they were superheroes saving the world, so they gave me up for the greater good. Maybe they were doctors or lawyers or something else, and it just wouldn’t work out for them to have a baby. I just don’t know. It’s hard to think of now because in reality, I probably know that they were teenagers who couldn’t raise a baby or maybe a mom in a bad situation that wouldn’t let her keep me. So, it’s probably stupid to have ever thought that they were heroes when all they’ve done is break my heart.”

“Hey,” he soothes, his brows furrowed together, before wiping away the tear that’s fallen onto her cheek. Great. Now she’s crying. She probably looks really sane right now, especially if her mascara is already messed up. “That wasn’t stupid. I would have done the exact same thing. Emma, darling, I can’t pretend to know how it was for you growing up just like you can’t do the same for me, but, if I may be so bold, it’s our parents’ loss for not being in our lives the way they should. I know that I struggle with accepting this myself, but it had nothing to do with us. It had nothing to do with you.”

“Yeah, because I’m a real catch all the time.”

She sniffles, blinking away the new tears that she’s refusing to let fall. This is not at all how this was supposed to go, but she couldn’t not tell him when he’d already shared. She has so much baggage, so many things that she’s going to have to tell him if they keep doing this, and her issues with her parents and the foster system in general are only scratching the surface.

How in the world do people do this? How do they trust someone else to carefully protect the intimacies of their heart and their life, every scar mapped out on a piece of paper handed over in a fragile glass case that is already filled with cracks?

How is she doing some of that right now when sometimes she can’t even talk to David or Ruby, the two people who have been there for her more than anyone else?

What a piece of work.

Or Ruth. The woman who helped change everything for her and who she still sometimes treats like a stranger.

Killian smiles at her, his thumb still tracing her cheekbone so that every touch electrifies her. The soft cocoon that they were in last night, the darkness and blankets surrounding them, has extended until this morning with sunlight filtering through the window, and maybe it can last a little bit longer.

“I know I may be a little biased because you are in my bed and all.” He stops here to waggle his eyebrows across his forehead as she gently pushes him, the smallest of chuckles escaping her. “But I think you are quite the catch. I like that you’re real, that you’re messy. It makes me feel a hell of a lot more normal.”

She scoffs, her chest heaving the slightest bit. “I don’t think you’ll ever be normal.”

“Good. Life is boring that way.” And then he’s leaning forward and slowly, softly, reverently gliding his lips over hers in a caress of a kiss that sends the butterflies in her stomach on a migration path all the way down to her toes. How can she keep doing that for the rest of the day? She’d sign up in a minute No, a second. “We make quite the team, don’t we, love?”

“A couple of real winners, twenty-nine.” All of the sudden, Killian groans, rolling away from her and onto his back as his arm stretches up so that he can pinch the bridge of his nose. “What?” she laughs, propping herself up on her elbow to look down at him as her other hand traces his biceps. She really likes his biceps.

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m really rather fond of the whole number nickname thing, but it just reminded me that we have to get our asses out of bed and go to work today.”

Work. She has work today. Killian has work today. Of course they do.

“Why you gotta bring me down like that?”

“Because the world sucks, and I’m evil.” His eyes flutter open, light blue contrasted against tan skin, and a smile stretches from the left side of his lips to the right. Here come those butterflies again. “But I do feel like we have a little bit of time left before I have to go meet the trainer and be at the fields.”

“I have less time than you do.”

“Pity that.”

In a swift movement, Killian twists to the side and moves around the bed until his knees are planted on either side of her thighs and his palms are splayed out next to her head. Every bit of their bodies are close to each other, heat still radiating off of Killian, and she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, anticipation at what this position usually means humming through her body.

She definitely needs to get laid, but she’s not quite ready for that yet. It’s been a long damn time since sex for her involved feelings, and feelings would no doubt be involved here.

A lot of them.

So, making out like teenagers will have to do.

What a tragic life that she lives.

(And she’s definitely feeling a bit of whiplash for how quickly this situation flipped on its head.)

Killian drops his head down, his nose brushing against the dip in her collarbone before he’s biting down, hard, and then soothing his mark with his tongue all the while his scruff scratches against her skin. It took a while to get used to that, to not be irritated by the scratch of a beard instead of the smoothness of bare skin, but she can’t say she minds. Not at all.

What she does mind is that as her hips are arching up into Killian’s, he pulls back and removes his lips from her body.

(She also doesn’t love the whine that just passed through her lips, but that was feeling really damn good.)

“What are you doing?” she groans, looping her hands around the back of his neck and threading her fingers through his hair to pull his lips down closer to hers. “I was enjoying that.”

“As was I.” His voice is hoarse, a little darker than usual, and it reminds her so much of how it was when he woke up that heat curls between her thighs. But no, not ready. “I was simply thinking that maybe we should get breakfast.”

“I’m fine doing this.” Her stomach growls, rather loudly, and she wants to melt into the mattress, especially when Killian’s brow perks up. “Okay, maybe I’m a little hungry. I should probably also brush my teeth.”

“It is the most important meal of the day, and I do appreciate dental hygiene.”

“So, how can we get breakfast if it’s all a secret?”

“Room service, Swan.” He says it like it’s the most obvious statement in the world, and maybe it is, but then he’s lowering his head to briefly kiss her once more and thoughts fly out of her head. “Or we can get some more of your vending machine treats since Ariel pilfered some of them last night.”

“The thief.”

“Shameful.”

“I think I’m okay with room service.”

“Good.”

-/-

“Smile.” Emma holds up the camera to Will Scarlet’s face, a little alien covering his features even as he scowls. “Come on, you’ve got to smile. You guys are crushing it today, and we’re probably only going to be out here for another thirty minutes.”

“What filter do you have on me?”

“It’s an alien.” She snaps a picture and turns the phone around to show him. “See. It’s supposed to be fun, Scarlet. You’re twenty-seven, and you don’t use snapchat or Instagram filters? Are you secretly a grandpa? Come on. I know that Belle uses them.”

He raises a brow, and somehow, she swears it’s even more prominent than when Killian does it. “You follow Belle on Instagram?”

She shrugs her shoulders as there’s a ding of bat against ball and Forester hits a foul into the stands. That’s his third for the day. She should probably be focusing on that, but it’s the top of the ninth and 7-1. There likely aren’t going to be any big developments, and she’s currently trying to get some more fun behind the scenes stuff for her social media by hounding all of the guys in the dugout. Funny filters are a surprisingly big hit, especially when she can get the bigger names like Will and Robin or Eric to do it.

Robin made an adorable dog while Eric’s head went all twisty and his voice got high as she asked him questions about the game and how today differs from yesterday.

(The short answer: every day is different. The real answer: Robin was their starting pitcher instead of Killian.)

“Part of my job. I have to know what’s going on in your lives. Also, she followed me after that night we all hung out in California, and sometimes we comment on each other’s pictures. It’s obviously a true friendship in the making.”

“Obviously. What’s all this stuff for? I thought you just interviewed us and were, like, the super tough Emma Swan who doesn’t take shit from any of us.”

“Well, I am that,” she corrects, swiping through the filters with Will as several people walk by to get their cups of water. It smells horrible in here, and as much as she doesn’t want to admit it, she’s probably contributed to that with how much she’s sweating today. New York’s summer weather can be just awful (and the smell makes it so much worse), but they’re not quite there yet. Down here, though, May might as well be August. “Which is why I’m currently bugging you, but I’ve also been asked to do some of this stuff. You know, fun. You’re literally the funniest person on this team. I figured you’d be all for this. Come on. I’ll find Jones in the locker room afterwards and give him the most unflattering filter there is.”

Will smiles at that as a small bit of laughter passes through his lips. “Okay, but I want you to do the one that turns him into a baby.”

“Deal.”

-/-

“There is an entire plane full of people, and yet I find you sitting in the corner next to the bathroom all by yourself.”

She looks up from where she’s typing out all of her travel expenses (at least the ones she can charge to work anyways) in the form she fills out after every road series, only to see Killian standing above her with a cap pulled low on his forehead like that’s somehow going to disguise the fact that he’s over here talking to her. These guys see him wearing a hat more often than they see him without one, and they’re on a plane. There’s really no hiding away. She would know. That’s what she was trying to do to get some work done, and she’s been found.

“I had to fill out my travel expenses and then get some work done. They’re letting me help out with some of the intro clips for the next few home games.”

“Really? That’s great, love.”

“I know. I’m excited for it.”

He nods his head to the empty seat next to her. “Can I sit?”

Worry circles around in her stomach as she presses up in her seat to look around them. There’s no one for at least four rows, and most everyone seems to be sleeping or watching a movie.

Still. This likely isn’t the best idea. Sneaking away to his hotel room seems simple and innocent enough, but they almost got caught there when behind closed doors. This is right out in the open even if the lights are dimmed to almost blackness.

How in the world do people in all of those books and movies do this secret dating thing? It’s complicated.

Then again, when isn’t it? Ugh, she feels so much like Avril Lavigne right now.

“Is that a good idea?” she worries.

Killian raises his hands. “Just to sit and talk. There will be no funny business.”

“Well, that would require you to be funny to begin with.”

He rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling that million-dollar smile all at the same time. “I’ll have you know that I’m hysterical. Just today I did an entire interview with a filter on my face that made me look like I had a giant forehead and sound like an animated rodent.”

(She couldn’t find the baby filter Will wanted.)

“Just sit down, you weirdo.”

He does, picking up her carry-on bag and placing it in the empty row next to them, before settling down next to her and stretching his seatbelt across his stomach even though the light isn’t on. She bets he’s an insane stickler for rules. It would fit right in with everything she knows about him.

“So,” he murmurs, not-so-slyly looping his calf under hers so that she can feel the warmth of his calf against hers, “is work the only reason you’re hanging out back here alone?”

Does she hate that he already knows him so well, or does she secretly appreciate it?

Is there even an answer to that question?

“I just needed…I needed some time to do some work stuff and decompress. It’s been kind of a heavy few days, and believe it or not, I do have to spend a little time away from people every now and then.”

“What? No? You?” He taps his shoulder into hers, and she closes her laptop, knowing for a fact that she’s not going to get any work done like this. “I thought you were always a people person who always needed to be around others.”

“Ha ha,” she huffs, stretching her feet out as much as she can, “you’re so funny.”

“I thought you just said that I wasn’t funny.”

“Obviously that was sarcasm.”

“So I am funny?”

“No. Wait, what? How did I lose track of this conversation in so little words?”

“I find that my handsome face tends to make people lose their train of thought.”

She twists to the side and pinches the skin of his forearm, leaving it red and angry. The height of maturity. Always. Killian doesn’t even flinch.

“Honesty time?” she asks, leaning her head back and twisting it to the side so that she can look into Killian’s eyes. This is such a familiar sight, so similar to last night and this morning, but it’s all different now. Everything seems to be outside of the safe comfort of a hotel room.

“I like honesty. We seem to be very good at that.”

“Our track record is pretty good in the last twenty-four hours.”

“So,” he nudges, moving his foot underneath hers to move them the slightest bit closer to each other. Her hand itches to reach out for his, but she holds back. “Let’s talk about what’s on your mind.”

Why does the sound of his voice make her want to spill her secrets every single time? He’s like a freaking snake charmer, and she’s fully convinced that snakes should never be charmed. Everyone should stay far, far away from any and all snakes.

But not the charmers.

Not when they seem so genuine.

Her life doesn’t make sense anymore, but she doesn’t really care. Well, no, she does care. She cares a lot, and it’s why she’s about to spurt out some words that she would have never dared say in any other relationship. She never really had to.

“I, um,” she stutters, blinking at him several times as no features on Killian’s face change, his leg a heavy presence against hers, “what are we doing?”

“Talking, I think,” he laughs as a brow raises on his forehead and a smile stretches across his lips. “But I’m guessing you don’t mean at this current moment.”

“Perceptive.” “You’re an open book.”

“I’ve heard that one before. From you, actually.”

“It’s true. You’re a very fascinating book, though.”

“A regular Harry Potter.”

“Most definitely.” His hand finds hers, something she wanted to do earlier but didn’t, and her eyes do another scan around the plane to make sure no one is paying attention to them under the dimmed lights. She’d honestly be surprised if anyone could even see them, but she doesn’t want to take a lot of chances. “So, tell me, love. I’m all ears.”

“Yeah, little pointed ones.” His lips scowl at that, but she carries on with a sigh. “Okay, okay. I, um, I want to know what we’re doing relationship-wise. I know that seems dumb but I – ”

“It’s not dumb.”

“Can I just sprout all of this information out without you interrupting me because I am going to lose my courage?”

“Yeah, Swan, go.”

“I’m…I like you, okay? You obviously know that because I’ve said it before and I flirt with you and we have some pretty heavy make-out sessions, which are nice, by the way.” Killian nods his head in agreement, his lips twitching in the corners, but he doesn’t say anything. A man of his word. Or…non-word. “But there’s obviously an emotional connection too. We’re dating without anyone knowing, testing the waters or whatever, and we shared…a lot last night and this morning. A lot of stuff that I don’t talk about that often, and I have so much more shit in my life. I just – ”

How the hell does she say this?

“You want to know if we’re dating other people.”

“What a time to interrupt me.”

“You didn’t say anything for forty-seven seconds. And that’s only after I started counting.”

She chuckles, unable to help herself, and leans down to bury her face in his shoulder, breathing in the strong scent of his cologne and whatever detergent it is that he uses.

“I…trust you. I do, but I have to ask. I’ve been burned pretty badly in the past by other guys, and I know that you kind of have a…history of dating several women at once.”

She is an asshole for even bringing that up, but she had to. And he didn’t flinch away from her or untangle their fingers, so that has to be a good sign, right?

“I’m not that guy anymore, and I promise one day I’m going to explain it all to you. I need some time, though. As much as I love sharing all of this with you, we’re in the early stages of a relationship. I think we have all of the time in the world to get into the lives we’ve lived when all I’m really interested in is making you laugh or getting you on the big screen while you’re eating a hot dog.”

“No,” she groans, laughter bubbling up in her stomach. “Stop that. It’s not even funny. You’ve seen me eat. I’m not an attractive eater.”

“I think you’re pretty attractive when you’re eating a hot dog, if you catch my drift.”

“I hate you for making that joke.”

“Oh, come on, you don’t hate me for it. You’re probably hoping that my bedroom humor is a little bit better than that though.”

“Wasn’t even going to go there.”

“How could you not?”

“Good point,” she laughs, leaning her head against his shoulder and closing her eyes, the fatigue of the trip and the day finally starting to hit her. “I didn’t eat dinner, and a hot dog is actually sounding really good right now.”

“So many jokes I could make about that sentence.”

“I know. That’s why I said it.”

“I knew I liked you for a reason.” Killian sighs, and she can feel it in the movement of his chest. “I’ve got to move back to my spot up with the guys and Ariel, but I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Sounds good to me.”

There’s some shuffling around, the click of Killian’s seatbelt, and then warm lips against her temple as he gets up and she tries to calm the quick beat of her heart to fall asleep for the rest of the plane ride home.

-/-

It’s far past midnight when she gets back to her apartment, the wind howling and the rain coming down outside, and she very quietly tries to get inside so as not to wake up Graham and Ruby only to find Ruby sitting on the floor of their kitchen painting her toenails. What else would someone be doing on Sunday night…or really, Monday morning?

“Rubes? Why are you up?”

“I was waiting for you.”

“I’m a big girl. I can get home on my own.”

“I know, I know,” she sighs, twisting the cap on her red polish and standing up from the floor so that she can wrap her arms around Emma and completely and totally smothering her with her hug. “I have missed you. Do you know what it’s like to only live with a man?”

“Do you mean your boyfriend?”

“Yes,” Ruby groans, squeezing her more. “I love him so much and will probably marry him one day, but he does not enjoy my trashy TV shows or how much my period sucks.”

“You know for a fact that Graham loves your trashy TV shows. He always knows the latest gossip.”

“This is true. I’ve mostly just been bored at work.”

“There it is,” Emma laughs, pulling back from the hug and taking a step back so that she can breathe. “You want to catch me up on everything tonight or wait until we’re on the clock tomorrow?”

“Oh, on the clock. Who are you even kidding? Why talk for free when we can get paid for it?”

“My entire life philosophy.”

“So,” Ruby nudges, bending down to pick up her nail polish bottle, “anything interesting happen in Florida?”

Heat immediately rises to Emma’s cheeks, the red only hidden by the dim lighting in their kitchen (how was Ruby painting her nails in this?), and she has to get better at this whole blushing thing when Ruby doesn’t mean anything by her question. This is simply what they do when they’ve been apart. Texts can’t cover everything, not the way that an in-person conversation can.

“Nope. Not a thing.”

Everything, actually.

#catch me if you can #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #captain swan

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mwdders · 6 years ago

Text

Unexpected love

Part 2

Summary: You’re Tom’s older sister and as your relationship sourly ends, you retreat to L.A. for some time away, not expecting to meet Sebastian Stan and fall for him. (There is a longer summary on my blog if you want to read that before reading this)

Paring: Sebastian Stan x reader and Sibling!Tom x reader

Warnings: swearing (I think)

Part 2/?

This wasn’t requested but if you enjoy this, and like my writing please message me requests.

Enjoy!

Update: link to part 3

https://bluediamondsevie.tumblr.com/post/184715355227/unexpected-love

—

You must of fallen asleep because when you woke up, Tom wasn’t sat next to you but you could hear a voice in the next room.

Standing up, allowing all your muscles to stretch you walk towards the door, feet padding across the floor.

“Haz, she’s broken. I’ve never seen her so upset before.” Tom said, and Harrison mumbled something you couldn’t hear, to which Tom replied, “She must of been putting on a brave face in front of you and Harry.” You furrowed your eyebrows before knocking on the door and opening it.

“Hey you’re awake.” Tom said as you entered the room, he was now back in jeans and a t shirt rather than his Spider-Man suit, you nodded, not wanting your words to fail you.

“How you feeling?” All anyone has done is ask if you’re okay, “I’m fine, please stop asking.” Your attitude shocked Tom and Harrison who both looked at you surprised.

“We just want to make sure you’re okay.” You rolled your eyes and walked out the door, they both followed you.

“Y/N.” You sat down and ignored them both, “Y/N! You can’t ignore us.” You picked up a magazine and began to read it. Harrison sighed, so did Tom, “Y/N look at me. I called Cam.” Your head shot up as the words left his mouth, “What do you mean you called Cam?” The anger was bubbling up inside of you,

“I spoke to him about everything, obviously after giving him a piece of my mind.” You stood up, “Tom you really shouldn’t of done that.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you glared at your brother.

“I had to! I saw how upset you were and I couldn’t just let him get away with hurting you.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “How dare you! This is my life, he was my fiancé, it was my shit to deal with Tom not yours!” Yelling was getting you nowhere because you could see Tom shaking his head disagreeing with you. “Y/N I’m your brother, I’m suppose to protect you and look out for you, and I had to do this.”

“No Tom, you didn’t.” You walked into the bedroom of the trailer and slammed the door shut, locking it behind you.

—

“You can’t hide in here forever Y/N!” Tom yelled as he shut the door to his trailer ending another argument.

You’d been arguing on and off for 4 days now, after the photos Cam sent you, you’d shut down, not talking, not eating, you felt so low, and so empty you didn’t know what to do except hide away and avoid everybody, also after what Tom did you didn’t feel like talking to him.

When new photos of Cam surfaced online with a new girl on his arm, not even a week after you’d separated, it made things worse, you didn’t feel human, you felt like a mind in an empty shell sinking deeper and deeper into the world of social media, reading everyone’s opinions about your break up wasn’t helping but it made you feel normal, it made you feel sane.

Tom tried to not be angry with you but as much as he hated seeing you upset he also hated you isolating yourself, mumbling words under his breath as he walked onto set everyone could tell he was angry.

“Woo, kid what’s wrong?” Chris asked him as he accidentally walked into him, Tom too caught up in his own thoughts.

“Oh sorry Chris, I was too busy thinking.” He said with a huff as he sat down in his chair. “What’s on your mind?” Tom sighed and put his head in his hands, “It’s my sister, she’s going through some stuff and I want to help but I don’t know how, she keeps pushing me away.” Chris nodded as he listened,

“Well what’s going on with her?”Tom sighed and explained everything, “Well she’s just broken up with her fiancé, well actually he broke her heart and naturally she isn’t taking it well and needed to get away so she flew out here and I thought it’d be a good idea, she could be in between set and my place and she could spend some time in the city, just taking her mind off everything?” Tom held his hands out using gestures to emphasis his words, “But all she’s done is hideaway in my trailer, she doesn’t talk to me, Harrison or Harry, she doesn’t eat, all she does is watch TV and cry.” He groaned, as Chris nodded and stayed silent for a moment as he processed Tom’s words.

“Okay so she’s going through a break up? And all the not talking and not eating is normal break up behaviour, and maybe she does just need time, to adjust to the realisation her relationships over? I mean it’s bound to hurt, she was going to marry the guy right?” Tom nodded, “Okay so just give her another day or two and see how things pan out and if she’s still the same then you can schedule an intervention and bring her to set! We’d love to meet her and help keep her distracted.”

Tom sighed, he knew Chris was right, and you did just need time but he still had a sinking feeling in his chest.

“Alright Tom you’re up! Let’s set for scene 30, is everyone ready?” Tom got out of his chair and ready to shoot the scene, he tried so hard to focus but his mind was only on you.

—

You reached for another tissue as you read another article online about you and Cam, you’d read so many you were running out of articles to read.

Social media was also boring now too, your relationship drama had passed and it seemed no one was talking about it anymore and you’d lost your sense of normality.

You stood up, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders as you went to the kettle to make a cup of tea. You looked like hell, you’d not showered in days, let alone brushed your hair or done your make up, you were a living breathing ogre.

The kettled whistled as you sniffled, you’d not seen Tom this morning or Harry or Harrison, everyone was avoiding you and you were happy about it at first but now you were craving company.

Your eyes were heavy as you poured the water into your cup, adding milk.

Your phone was in the other room and before you could finish your brew it was ringing loudly. “Fuck sake.” You muttered under your breath, running slightly to get to the phone on time, but it rang off before you could and you were surprised that the missed call was from Cam and before you could even consider ringing him back he text you.

Cam: Didn’t mean to ring you, meant to delete your number, sorry. I’m deleting it now, maybe you should delete mine too?

The message knocked the wind out of you as you struggled to breath, he was taking this break up seriously and cutting all ties, you were still in denial about it all, hoping that maybe you could get back together but that was little chance of that happening by the way things were going.

You stumbled back slightly and into the living room, your back hitting the sofa as you fell, bringing your knees to your chest as you cried on the floor. You couldn’t breath, the sobs escaping your lips were silent and everything was blurry as tears clouded your vision.

“Hey Tom I couldn’t find-“ The man stopped talking when he saw you curled up in a ball behind the sofa, crying your heart out, and even though he didn’t know you, he walked over, crouched down in front of you, placing a hand on your knee and asked, “Hey,Hey, what’s wrong?” You looked up surprised at the man with the soft voice stood in front of you, who you realised was Sebastian Stan.

“I um-“ you composed yourself and swallowed the lump in your throat, “What are you doing here?” His eyes were full of sympathy, all though you got lost in the blue of them.

“Tom, he asked me to get his script and then I couldn’t find it or him so I came here thinking he might be here.” Sebastian stood up, and scratched the back of his neck.

“Oh erm, I haven’t see him. I’m Y/N, Tom’s sister.” You stood up and put your hand out for him to shake, he looked down at your hand noticing the huge rock on your ring finger, his heart dropped, of course a girl like you would be spoken for.

“I’m Sebastian.” He shook your hand anyway. “I know.” You said slowly with a giggle but it kept out more of a strangled sob, this surprised him, “Don’t look so scared, Tom talks about you and I obviously recognised you from seeing you on the big screen.” He nodded as if realisation had hit him that he was famous and of course you’d recognise him.

There was an awkward silence before he asked the question on the tip of his tongue, “You sure you’re okay? I thought you were going to drown in your own tears when I came in.” Your mouth opened slightly with how forward he was, “I’m okay, thank you.” You didn’t want to tell him anything, it was too soon to talk.

“Okay, well if you see Tom, tell him I was here. Bye er Y/N.” He smiled weakly before he left, leaving you to think over everything again.

—

Tag list: @melp1219 @memesmyselfandhate @marvelouspottering @coohlwhip @tastefulknife @vaultures @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @helloitsmeamie203 @kiran1245 @augustnightsx @meowmeow230 @coffees-and-constellations @celebsimagines @myfanstories

Part 3 later today or tomorrow!

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myhusbandsasemni · 5 years ago

Text

The Balance Keeper: Part I

Hey everyone. I’m rewriting my main WIP cause I can. You can read the story HERE on Wattpad or I’ll just slowly post the parts here on Tumblr. Thank you so much. Please enjoy.

Master Post Here

When I woke up, laying on the ground, wearing a blue shirt and cotton pants, I was confused to say the least. I sat up and looked around myself, only to find myself even more confused. There were things. Missing. In my head. There was nothing. Pieces of my life weren’t there. I knew what a family was, but I couldn’t remember having one. I remembered how to build, but I couldn’t remember seeing any structures or buildings as far as I knew. What was more, there were the strange demon creatures that threatened me every other minute. Not the greatest wake up call.

I had to create shelters, move quickly, try to figure out what was going on, and try to solve the riddle that was my past. I never did solve that. Instead, I discovered I had lots of talents. I could build incredible things after I had gotten to my feet and learned where I could find building materials. I also had a strength I knew I shouldn’t have, and an ability with tracking nearly anything, no matter the rivers they splashed through or the trees they climbed.

I was so busy dealing with demons attacking the houses and bases I built that I didn’t notice it at first. No, I was too busy fighting the packs of creatures twice my length and with just as much strength. Too busy hunting for food. Too busy cultivating my ability to build. I didn’t notice the emptiness in my chest until months later.

I was observing the demons one night when I realized. The demons that lived on the ground were a little bit stubbier than the ones that flew in the sky. They had two muscled upper arms and four forearms. The forearms split at the elbows, leaving the demons with incredible dexterity. Their back legs were thick and sturdy to counteract their long necks and deadly horns. The demons that walked on the ground, Plains demons as I called them, were a deep red in colors that varied from demon to demon. With their thick skins and their disposition to travel in packs, they were tough to fight and a constant threat to my creations. At the same time, though, they were interesting to watch and an interesting pastime for someone with not much else to do.

I tilted my head, watching as the pack came together after a long day of hunting animals and harassing me. I saw one of the mothers clean the horns of her baby and that’s when it hit. Something moved in my chest. It hurt as it revealed the pain that I had been ignoring for so long. Realization had never struck harder.

I was…..alone.

There was no one.

I was nothing….. to anyone.

I flinched back as I realized it. I curled in on myself, ignoring the demons down below. It didn’t matter. I had never seen anyone. Never knew what it was like to have a family. It hit me just how lonely I was, and how it hurt in my chest. It hurt in my head. It hurt in every fiber of my being.

I don’t know how long I lay in the ferns and grass, tears trailing down my face. I shuddered so hard it made me sick. I started screaming in pain, but it didn’t really register it was me making that pitiful wailing. I felt like I was watching myself fall apart from the outside.

The demons watched me fall apart, too.

After that, I did anything and everything to distract myself. I built like my life depended on it, I created magnificent pieces of art, I explored and learned everything about the world around me.

But, I lost interest in the projects I created and ended up destroying them. I felt even more lonely as I had no one else to share my art with. The more I explored, the more alone I realized I was.

One day, I lost all hope. I don’t know what caused it. I just woke up one day with the overwhelming feeling that my life was nothing but misery and death was inevitable. I went out and found one of my nicest swords. With closed eyes and a prayer to the stars, I thrust it through my chest. I barely felt the pain.

Then, I woke up on the floor of my most recent living room.

I thought that I might have dreamed it but, when I went out, I found a puddle of blood and the dulled sword. I fell to my knees as I realized what had happened. What couldn’t happen.

I couldn’t die.

Things only got harder. I became more and more desperate for an escape where there was none. When things got really bad, the only thing I could do was curl up in one of my houses and whimper. I could only remember one thing from whatever happened to me before I woke up in this strange world. One thing that I would repeat to myself over and over again in an attempt to keep myself sane.

My name is Steve.

Tag list: @midevefox @dowings @extraisthmus @creativewritergirl1 @artrayasnow93

Let me know if you want to be on the taglist.

#writing #writblr #wip the balance keeper #flight #part i #hope you enjoy #please let me know what you think #have a wonderful day

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tumblunni · 5 years ago

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Hottest and worst take I have ever seen: "asking people to tag their nsfw is denying people's fundamental agency as a human"

????

"Antis don't see children as fully human, they don't give them the choice to make their own decisions"

That's exactly what YOU are doing when you don't tag your shit! This is taking things to a ridiculous extreme where nothing is allowed to be regulated or even goddamn organized like a library because "free will somehow"...

If a thing is tagged nsfw and put away on an nsfw site and a kid clicks on it, then it's not the writer/artist's fault that it happened. There is no way to physically stop children from making mistakes.

But if you post extreme gory porn kink stuff out there in the open in a children's fandom and do nothing to keep it restricted to its target audience and not kids, then HEY YES ITS YOUR FAULT

And if you make this weird attitude of encouraging kids to want to be more adult, encouraging them to look at this stuff, and telling them they are wrong and toxic if they don't like it, then that's predatory and gross.

I feel like this discourse has gone to nonsensical extremes!

People are called horrible prudes who want to ban all non pure content if they just say "don't show child porn to children". And people act like the only solution is to do nothing at all to keep child porn away from children.

And then you have people who act like having any form of kink whatsoever is the same as making child porn, or even just writing "problematic" stuff like sympathising with a villain or whatever. And the solution is to ban everything just like tumblr's stupid attempt that failed entirely at making the site safer and only made it worse for perfectly non-harmful n/s/f/w artists....

AND THEN you have people assuming that all "antis" are like that, thus it's a justification to go back to the first extreme and say no safety precautions whatsoever because all safety precautions are oppressive and everyone who ever asks for them must have the motivation of hating LGBT people or something...

And you also have people jumping to this conclusion about any criticism of any content whatsoever. Someone merely says that a ship dynamic is abusive and you get the screeching "this means you totally support CENSORSHIP and want NOBODY TO CREATE ANY ART EVER AGAIN".

Like sometimes people just mean "because this ship is abusive and is not being aknowledged as abusive by the writer or tagged as darkfic, it could have a negative effect on an audience who's led to believe this is a desirable goal for a relationship". And it's just.. words criticizing it. People are allowed to not like it. Not every "I dislike it" is "it should be censored". The only time anyone should actually be talking about censoring stuff is if it's happening in a mainstream publication not a fandom space. Like there is legit conversation to be had about how the mainstream female-aimed romance genre has a lot of abusive sexist stuff normalized as desirable. If Twilight was actually marketed as some sort of darkfic that's intended to appeal to dark kinks, it wouldn't have been such a big problem.

Basically just.. put things in the right box.

That's my entire "anti" stance.

Put the thing where it's not so easy for kids to see it, give it the same degree of rules and regulations as any other fic that's potentially extreme. It's just like slapping warnings on a game box, yknow? If a kid tries to illegally buy an M-rated game then the makers of the game shouldn't be punished for something they took every measure to prevent. And if a parent buys an M-rated game for their young kid then they're being negligent and the responsibility is all on them. But also it's still messed up that there's a culture in children's friend groups to be all "do the grownup thing you don't like that might traumatise you, to be cool like us". And it's worth looking into whether adults have in any way contributed to this and how we can maybe help kids navigate this stage of their life more safely. Like is it possible that just calling stuff bad and not explaining WHY could be making it seem appealing and harmless? Like the tendancy to be a prude about giving kids proper sex education can lead to them being frustrated and seeking out stuff that's way too extreme for them because they don't know it's too extreme. Especially the complete absence of any education or positivity for LGBT kids in particular, theyre way more vulnerable to falling in with abuser's and manipulators because they don't have a parent to talk to about healthy relationships and puberty frustrations without fearing they'd be ostracized for their sexuality. And also honestly there are sometimes just really irresponsible/stupid/even abusive older siblings who will link young kids to stuff like goatse "as a joke"....

SO YEAH

ITS ALL FUCKIN COMPLICATED

And Tumblr is awful cos every goddamn argument turns into some weird war of two exaggerated extremes that no sane person would actually believe, with the original argument completely forgotten.

I just think that the fact that it's complicated as fuck should mean hey maybe we should help kids with it being complicated as fuck, not go "it's somehow denying kids their personhood to think they need the slightest bit of extra help navigating something even adults find complicated"

Also seriously TAG YOUR SHIT

And if someone is tagging their shit, then they're not part of the problem.

If someone with a super dark kink is tagging their shit, keeping their shit away from kids,and acknowledging that their shit is super dark and potentially traumatizing and giving 100% of all possible warnings, then they're not part of the problem.

Doesn't mean I'm gonna like that stuff, but me personally being squicked out doesn't mean that person is some sort of latent serial murderer just for having weird turn-ons.

If thing is not harming children = not bad

If thing is harming children = remove from children

People who should be in charge of keeping stuff safe from children = adults

If children choose to view a forbidden thing anyway despite all your best efforts = not your fault, you did all you could do

Doesn't prove the evilness of having a kink, or whatever. But also "nobody is allowed to ever criticize anything about kinks" is also wrong. Like.. having a kink isn't wrong but how you keep it tagged can be wrong.

It's very goddamn simple and I wish we could all just agree to it, why is this whole damn discourse SO EXAGGERATED AND RIDICULOUS NOWADAYS

Put the thing in the box for the thing, THATS IT! That should be the beginning and end of the conversation.

Fuckin "putting tags on things is somehow limiting kids's free will", Jesus Christ...

#so yeah basically yiu could consider me on the side of the 'antis' because i want the internet to be safe for children #but i dont agree with nonsensical extremism #but then just because i dont agree with nonsensical extremism doesnt mean i think nothibg should ever be restricted to 18 only #its nuts that these are presented as the only two sides and just being reasonable in the middle is never considered...#the conversation was never meant to be censorship vs throwing dicks at kids it was just tagging ur shit...#whyyyy is tumblr like this...

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janiedean · 7 years ago

Note

Why don't you like Harry Potter?

I could reply ‘because it’s not a given that anyone would like it’ but if we want to be specific (SORRY ANYONE WHO LIKES IT TAKE IT AS MY PERSONAL OPINION):

I tend to not care about things where the protagonists are teenagers and in high school (asoiaf is the exception and the teenagers/children aren’t all of it and they’re not in high school) in general and HP is basically that except with magic

I am absolutely not into **magic** stuff when we’re discussing fantasy - I like lotr and asoiaf and discworld (which is satire/trope subversion anyway) and I have other exceptions but stuff like WIZARDS AND WITCHES AND STUFF is one of the things that I can care less as far as fiction is concerned

I find it really too simplistic in plot conception and execution, like I read maybe a bit of it and I couldn’t get into the style whatsoever because I thought it was nothing special

I watched like movie four and a part of two and I fell asleep during both for how little I could care

there is like one damned gray character in those books/films - ONE - and I’ve been hearing discourse about whether he’s GOOD OR BAD since I was in middle school

I’ve been withstanding snape discourse since middle school excuse me if I can’t stand it anymore

my friends back in the day couldn’t talk about literally anything else so if you didn’t care you either were uncool or you just had to listen to them harping about it when I was just like CAN WE TALK ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE

they also proceeded to spoil me the entire thing at least for the main stuff so why the hell would I be interested if I already know everything and excuse me it sounds like the least interesting chosen hero story in existence to me at least

(no honestly harry is such a Chosen Hero trope in all the worst ways like sorry I really don’t care)

I’ve read/seen so much shit with the same moral which was better written and conceived that I’m nowhere near interested in getting into that, too

I really don’t care about wizards under the age of eighteen (and over the age of eighteen it’s... a very selected choice)

I can’t stand that this fandom is so entitled that they got eight movies, one play, the books, THE PREQUELS, I don’t even know how fucking much extra canon and so on and THEY HAVE TO KEEP COMPLAINING ABOUT IT EVERY OTHER MOMENT and the play was shitty, and the prequels are cash grab and the movies sucked and HERMIONE’S DRESS WAS PINK AND NOT BLUE AND THAT WAS A PLOT POINT THAT I HAD TO SEE DISCUSSED FOR ANOTHER THREE YEARS LIKE WHY DO YOU FUCKING CARE WHAT HERMIONE’S DRESS LOOKS LIKE, never mind that y’all have such a large fandom you can find virtually any pairing or ship or kink in it but of course I only see wanking about stuff when my favorite fantasy series is a perpetual yuletide fave, my otp has twenty fics half of which are tied to me somehow and got one shitty movie after years which sucked ass but of course AFTER EIGHT MOVIES THE PROBLEM IS *HERMIONE’S DRESS*

the harry/hermione vs ron/hermione shipwar that people still can’t let go about wanted to make me go murder people back when I had to read discourse about it oN LIVEJOURNAL, ON TUMBLR, ON FB AND IRL at the same time

the fucking snape discourse

the fact that people can’t seem to tag their posts with hp assuming that everyone likes it so I had to blacklist that, snape, hermione and idk how many characters just to make sure that shit wasn’t on my dash anymore and I still see it

once I said that I wasn’t gonna read it anyway because if I did I’d only care for some of the adults and I knew they were gonna die since everyone spoiled it for me already and then someone had the disgrace to say ‘if you liked theon in asoiaf you’d probably like snape as a character’ and I had to go through four hours of anon wanking about SNAPE DISCOURSE when I didn’t even know how to reply and my experience with this fandom is ALWAYS like that

I find it utterly boring and predictable and I can’t care less

also: let’s get it out of the way that I watched fantastic beasts with friends who dragged me and I didn’t dislike it actually I thought it was cute and GUESS WHY IT WAS BECAUSE EVERYONE WAS AN ADULT AND DIDN’T GO TO SCHOOL and it was touching somehow more serious themes than your usual trite YA stuff that the original is, and obviously the fandom is so full with discourse I’d never even touch it with a ten foot pole but it also shows people can’t seem to read/interpret anything related to HP in a sane way and without realizing that IT’S NOT ALL BLACK AND WHITE GDI, same as apparently they can’t let go of the fact that they have to put poor snape in one specific box instead of admitting that assholes can do good things for a good cause without meaning they aren’t assholes and be fucking done with it already. I also have no ill will towards poor jkr who has decent political views and only made money out of doing what she liked but which I have a feeling is a way better adult writer than YA writer but she never will have the chance to because if she gets out of the HP sphere no one cares about what she produces and/or doesn’t get it (guys I had to read there wasn’t racism talk in FB when it was set in the US like what did you think wizards not being able to marry normal humans was standing for).

but tldr: I find it a bunch of YA re-heated tropes put together in a way that can work for kids and was very smartly put together but is not really greatly written and does not work for me and I can’t give less of a fuck about the original series especially about teenager protagonists, the fandom is the incarnation of walking discourse, I hate that everyone seems to assume that you have to like HP and that it’s impossible that you might actually not give a fuck, I hate that I’ve had to hear HP discourse/talk since I was nine years old ie for the previous twenty years of my life, I hate that I can’t seem to escape idiotic discourse even if I try to get it out of my way and ah I forgot, I can’t anymore with people fighting bloody battles over freaking hogwarts houses and ah wait again I hate how in any small fandom in existence you won’t find a lot of things but THE HOGWARTS AU HAS TO BE THERE and if you don’t care for it you’ll have to read it anyway while being bored out of your mind because you really just don’t care for that setting.

ah, and I’m sick tired of having to justify the fact that I don’t like HP to about everyone I know irl because apparently it’s impossible that I can, you know, not like something that everyone else likes.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

again: I don’t mind discussing it on my terms and with people I know who also know I’m not interested in reading or watching it, but I’m really sick tired of seeing it everywhere after twenty years of telling everyone I don’t care. I mean. twenty years. I’m glad people enjoy it and I’m glad it got people into books and I absolutely don’t want to tell people they shouldn’t enjoy it because I can’t get into it - it’s their childhood and their favorite series and I’m sure it was great for them same as the stuff I liked was good for me - but it doesn’t mean I actually have to like it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #hp for ts #harry potter for ts #GUYS DON'T GO EXPLAINING ME WHY I'M WRONG OR WHY I SHOULD GIVE IT A TRY #OR WHY I DIDN'T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING ABOUT IT #I know I don't get it #no I still don't care #you can like it I don't have to #peace out ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#Anonymous #ask post

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panticwritten · 7 years ago

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Breaking Furnace - Connor Edition

I have a few excerpts, and I’ll just be posting them as continuations on this post. This is the story of how I chose the wrong narrator for this project :D

The first excerpt is the first scene in chapter one, and it’s a good taste of how differently Connor experiences things than I do!

Word count: 935

@jade-island-lives

Let me know if anyone wants to be tagged as this one updates!

I’ve only been back for a couple weeks, and I’m trying to decide whether it was worth it to come back at all. Jay says sooner is better than later, but sooner should have been a long time ago.

Jess — the vampire, not the human riding the bus next to me — seems to agree with me. They tracked me down within hours of my return and caused a scene in the Lounge.

I glance over to Jesse, catching them doing the same. They immediately look away and turn their eyes back out the window again. I can’t read them as much as I could, but then that makes sense.

It’s been more than two years now, after all.

I gaze at my hands, clenched into fists. I can’t believe how much they’ve changed. Everything has changed, and I hate that I missed it. They used to have so much life underneath their shell.

Now, something’s missing.

I shoot another glance at them, pained at the deadness in their eyes. Where did the spark go? The little bit of energy that brought all of us here?

They close their eyes, sighing, and a jolt of hurt streaks like an arcing wire from their mind to mine. I don’t think they meant to send that, but a little bit of our old connection seems to follow it.

…at to say to him anym...

I can’t stop a sharp gasp from hissing past my lips. Maybe I shouldn’t be here.

“If I’m making you uncomfortable, I can go,” I murmur. They shake their head, but the wire of pain only seems to get stronger when they turn their flat eyes on me.

…re real…

They seem to lose focus, facing forward again. Their fingers knot together, and they stare at them. A feeling I can’t identify rolls off of them for a moment, tired and something else, something darker.

They shake their head again, the emotion fading.

“No.” They ramble on about me being back and needing support for the night. A laugh that doesn’t reach their lips echoes in the air around us, a forced sound that hits me like a slap.

This is my fault.

“You could have stayed home.” I offer the words as relief from whatever this oppressive mood is. I wonder if they feel it, too. “There are already enough people signed up for this, you know.”

I allow myself a laugh, immediately regretting it when their smile slips and that unnamed emotion flickers in the air.

They shake their head once again, and I wonder how used to the gesture they’ve gotten.

No, I’m fine. No, it’s okay. No, I can’t. No, no, no. All the while, shaking their head and smiling as if that can convince any of us that they’re okay.

“It’s good to get of the house,” they say. “I’m supposed to be working on myself, right?”

I nod thoughtfully as they begin to turn to look out the window. They glance back, once, and add:

“That’s why you came back, after all.”

Is it?

I expect them to be done, but they surprise me by making a quip about their friend needing support. They say they’re the only sane one on the prom committee. I laugh, but even I can tell it sounds forced.

An ominous cloud of apprehension rises from their shoulders, swirling through the bus. I look away, watching the dark wisps dart to and fro. I catch one between my fingers, the contact searing my skin like dry ice.

...would just say it.

I let go, allowing the thing to float idly out of my reach. I look up at them, at the darkening gale swirling around them. The words bubble up from my gut, and I’m not sure if I could stop them if I wanted to.

“I meant to come back sooner. I’m sorry for that.” They tense, but the words tumble out of my mouth, stilted and rushed. “I didn’t think it would take you so long to find yourself — or so long for me to realize that you couldn't do it on your own.”

Their hands curl into fists when I rest a hand on their leg. The cloud darkens further, and I almost pull back. They don’t look at me, but I can see their troubled gaze in the reflection of the bus’s window.

“I should have been here for you. I should have been here when— ”

“Stop.”

The storm around them stills, the clouds fading into nothing as they finally turn cool eyes on me. I retract my hand, surprised. I’ve never seen their mood twist so suddenly.

Or maybe I’ve never seen them truly shut me out before now.

“Don’t talk to me about my overdose. You were gone, fine.” Their voice is clinical, sounding more like Jay than my old friend. “Don’t look at me for forgiveness for leaving me alone. We both know that you could have come back, and we both know it was your choice not to. That’s fine, but you need to come to terms with it on your own.”

Their contempt crumbles after a moment, and they look back out the window. The cloud doesn’t return, but a gentle hum emits from the back of their head. I don’t know what to say to that, and they don’t seem to expect me to respond at all.

So, I don’t.

I stare at my hands in my lap for the rest of the bus ride, unwilling to let go of the hope that we can find our rhythm again.

#my writing #connor #sawyer #bf #connor is way too hard on himself #to be fair tho everyone is hard on him at this point #2016 was a bad time for connor sawyer #bf writing

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writings-andstuff · 7 years ago

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Coincidences Part I (Bucky x Reader)

Okay, so this is me attempting at one of those “I texted you by accident and we ended up talking and I actually think you’re a pretty decent human being” tropes. I don’t know how it’s going to work out because this is the first time I’m doing something like this, but I dunno. Maybe it’ll be cool.

Anyways.

Without further ado: Happy Reading!

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Modern AU if that’s what its called)

Words: 4259

Warnings: I mean, swearing a little. But none other than that.

Excerpt: Blowing a sigh through your nose, you realize you probably should just leave it alone and not answer at all. Then again, you are slightly curious to at least find out who texted you. They obviously thought they were talking to someone else, so it couldn’t hurt to maybe steer them in a different direction. Maybe.

*After writing this first part, I have determined that this is going to have to be a multi-part fic. Yeah. This got away from me, but I’m gonna try to post the parts in succession.

Tagging: @langinator @beccaanne814-blog @fairchild21

Series Tags: @melanie451 @sebstanwassup @colagirl5 @winenighthoe @hillrich @gotnotfeature

Your name: submit What is this? document.getElementById("submit").addEventListener('click', function(){ walk(document.body, /\by\/n\b|\(y\/n\)/ig, document.getElementById("inputTxt").value); }); function walk(node, v, p){ var child, next; switch (node.nodeType){ case 1: // Element case 9: // Document case 11: // Document fragment child = node.firstChild; while (child){ next = child.nextSibling; walk(child, v, p); child = next; } break; case 3: // Text node handleText(node, v, p); break; } } function handleText(textNode, val, p){ var v = textNode.nodeValue; v = v.replace(val, p); textNode.nodeValue = v; }

New Message from: Unknown

3:32 p.m hey u still wanna get that drink sometime?

You stare at your phone in confusion. What the hell? Last you could remember, you hadn’t given any stranger your phone number, and you certainly hadn’t agreed to any drinks.

Blowing a sigh through your nose, you realize you probably should just leave it alone and not answer at all. Then again, you are slightly curious to at least find out who texted you. They obviously thought they were talking to someone else, so it couldn’t hurt to maybe steer them in a different direction. Maybe.

You glance at the clock perched above the doorway to the kitchen. It’s after 3:30 so, technically, you aren’t due for a break for another half hour. The diner is pretty quiet, though, so maybe it won’t hurt to just slip out for a little bit.

The door to the kitchen creaks as you open it, throwing your apron up onto the hook and casting a frown at Nat, who is sitting on a stool, scrolling through her phone. Man, is she lucky that the manager had to take the day off. At the griddle toward the back, Wanda is humming as she flips a grilled cheese.

“I’m taking my break early,” you declare to your friends. Nat barely acknowledges you, nodding once and making you want to pull her phone from her hands and hide it from her. Ever since she’d begun dating Clint, she’d been stuck to her phone like glue to paper. You raise a solitary eyebrow.

Wanda turns from her grilled cheese and leans against the counter. “It’s early.”

You nod. “I know, but it’s dead out there.”

“Pete?”

You smile. “Of course.”

Peter Parker had been coming into the diner a few days a week after school to do his homework and pick up dinner for his aunt after his uncle died. It happened so often, that the manager actually offered him a job, but he declined, saying that he already had one and that he didn’t want to spend any more time away from his Aunt May than he already did.

Wanda turns back to the griddle and pulls the grilled cheese from it with her spatula. She sticks the grilled cheese in a foam container and closes it.

“Is that for him?” you ask. Wanda simply nods, walking over to the desert display and cutting a piece of cheesecake off, putting it in another, smaller container, and putting both in a bag.

“You never saw me do that,” she warns you, as she walks toward the door to the kitchen, bag in hand. There’s a challenge in her tone that you’re definitely not going to indulge.

You look around the room with a thoughtful expression on your face, before landing back on her with a questioning tilt of the head and knit brows. “I never saw you do what?”

She grins at you and pushes through the door with her back, turning expertly just as the door is about to open fully, and holding it with her elbow as she walks out.

When you turn back, Nat’s finally looking up and away from her phone.

“Look who decided to join us,” you joke, walking forward toward the back exit.

“She’s a softie,” Nat says, looking through the window at Wanda, who is handing a grinning Pete the bag with a finger to her lips. “She knows she’s going to have to pay for that, right?”

You shrug. “The kid’s been through a lot, and everyone loves cheesecake.”

“Not me,” Nat says, looking up at you where you stand to her right.

“You’re weird,” you shrug a single shoulder. “I’ll be back.”

You make it about halfway down the hall before Nat calls out for you again. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

You don’t answer. Nat wouldn’t answer a strange text message. Nat wouldn’t even acknowledge said text message. Maybe you shouldn’t either. But the curiosity is killing you. Forget the cat, it has nine lives. You don’t, and if you don’t find out who this is, you’re going to die. Definitely.

It’s obviously not going to be anyone you know, because the number is unknown, and part of you knows that. The irrational part of you is winning out, though, and you can’t help it. Don’t want to.

It takes another ten minutes of contemplation, of writing and re-writing a text, to actually get to the point where you say, “Fuck it,” and send it off.

3:48 p.m Uh. who is this

Damn, you forgot a question mark. Should you send one? No, double texting is weird. Then again—

Your phone buzzes in your hand and you frown down at it. The sun is too bright right now and your phone screen looks more like a mirror than an open message. You cup your hand above your eyes, against your eyebrows, to block the sun and squint at the screen until you’re sure you can possibly make out the words in the little gray bubble on the screen.

3:49 p.m its james

You suck in a breath. James. You definitely don’t know a James. Does he think you know him? Probably, or he wouldn’t be asking about getting that drink. Obviously, it was an aforementioned thing, but not with you.

Another few minutes of quiet contemplation in which you figure out what you should say, landing on something neutral and truthful.

3:54 p.m I don’t know any James’

Shit. Is he gonna know that the apostrophe means that you don’t know any people named James, plural? What if he thinks it’s a typo? That’s two typos in a row—

Your phone buzzes again and you narrow your eyes at his response.

3:55 p.m we met at that cafe a few weeks ago and you gave me your number

Nope, never happened. And you’re going to tell him so.

3:57 p.m i think i’d remember if i met someone in a cafe and gave them my number. Any chance you got a false one?

The response is immediate and arrogant.

3:57 p.m no chance

For a moment, you’re not sure what to say to that. Should you call him out on his arrogance? Should you just stop talking to him altogether? Should you keep trying to convince him that you definitely never met him in some weird cafe?

The last one sounds best, but it is a stranger—you’ll never meet him—and you really wanna call him on his shit.

3:59 p.m big talk for a guy who most definitely got a fake number

This time, the response takes a few minutes, as if he’s had to read it a few times and then formulate a response. You smile to yourself, convinced you won that one and then confused because when did this turn into a competition? You never get to call people out like that because you’re always too scared of the repercussions, so you usually just keep your mouth shut. But a stranger through a phone is different waters altogether.

4:04 p.m so…ur not dot?

It took him five minutes to say that?

4:04 p.m no

4:05 p.m then…who r u?

Should you do it? Should you tell him your name? Based on the area code, he lives around you, which is weirdly coincidental. There’s always a chance this is a scam or something, but he does seem pretty confused. It took him five minutes to figure out he’d been duped and you were telling the truth, so….

There’s also always the off chance that he’s been in the diner and has seen you.

Then again, he might never see you or meet you. It’s Brooklyn. A pretty big place to just randomly run into a person you accidentally texted. Still, you don’t want to give him your real name. You do what any sane person would do: you give him your middle name.

4:08 p.m Y/M/N

4:09 p.m oh thank god

You frown.

4:09 p.m ?

4:10 p.m u r a girl, right?

4:10 p.m i kno you didn’t just assume my gender

Fuck, the w is missing from know. Oh well. This one must have him stumped again, because his response doesn’t come for long enough that you think he’s busy or something, until it comes in.

4:16 p.m uh, no?

4:17 p.m Relax. I am. And you’re a guy, I presume?

4:18 p.m look whos assuming now

You’re slightly offended that your joke just backfired so badly. You inwardly cringe and look back down at your phone, breath ghosting over the screen in the frigid air. Damn, you forgot your coat inside. Wiping the condensation off the screen from your frozen breath, you quickly type back.

4:20 p.m Certainly not me. I’m presuming. Different. Also, what girl has the name James?

4:20 p.m Jamie

4:21 p.m different

4:21 p.m touche. im a dude

You’re indifferent about the answer, but you realize why he was a little freaked out at the possibility of you being a guy: the first thing he’d texted you had been asking you out for drinks. Then again, now you were assuming sexuality. But he had thought he’d been asking out someone named Dot, and that seems like a pretty feminine name.

Ugh. Your head hurts.

You sigh, unsure of what to say next. Turns out, you don’t have to think about it too much because he texts you a moment later. A double text.

4:23 p.m sorry if this is wierd. yknow. txting a stranger

You’re smiling, and at first you’re not sure why, until you realize it’s because he’s misspelled weird. As much as you don’t want to be annoying, you can’t let it go.

4:23 p.m weird*

4:24 p.m ohhh we have a grammar nazi

4:24 p.m i don’t know what you’re talking about

4:25 p.m you just corrected me

4:25 p.m totally didn’t. I was echoing you

4:26 p.m what about the *

4:26 p.m autocorrect

4:27 p.m mhmm sure and I was born in 1917

4:28 p.m man you’re old

4:29 p.m srryy duno wht u sid cant see thu my catarcs

It’s at this point that you’re covering your mouth with a freezing hand, laughing your ass off. This James, whoever he is, is hilarious. You grin at the screen as you type your answer, before noting the time. You’ve got to get back to work. At this point, you have been talking to James for almost an hour, give or take ten minutes or so.

You have to admit, your break flew by faster than any of your breaks ever had.

4:30 p.m alright mr. cat arcs. I have to get back to work. it was strangely fun talking to you

4:31 p.m wats tht deery

Just to piss him off:

4:31 p.m dearie*

4:31 p.m oH its on, grammar nazi

4:32 p.m look who’s suddenly been cured of his cataracts*

The next text isn’t a message but a picture—a screenshot to be precise. He’s saved your number to his phone with the contact name Gramar Nazi. You laugh, but there’s a strange, excited feeling in your chest that makes you grin stupidly.

He’s saved your number to his phone. Does this mean he’s going to text you again? Does he want to? If you’re being honest, you want him to.

Still grinning like an idiot, hands numb from the cold, you save his number to your contacts as Mr. Catarcs and take a screenshot of it.

4:34 p.m grammar*

Then you send him the screenshot of his contact.

4:35 p.m lol see u later grammar nazi

The door behind you swings open and Nat’s standing there, frown on her face. You let your phone drop to your side as she knits her brows at you.

“You forgot your coat,” she says, as if that isn’t obvious enough. “Also, your half hour break was up half an hour ago. The dinner rush is going to start soon.”

You nod. “Yeah, I know. I’ll be in in a sec.”

Her frown deepens, if that’s even possible, and she tilts her head at the phone in your hand, still open to the message between you and James. She nods at it.

“Who’re you talking to?”

“No one.”

She eyes you suspiciously but doesn’t say anything, opting to prop the door open with the wooden wedge. You totally forgot to put that in when you came out here. It’s a good thing Nat came to get you or you’d have to walk all the way around to the front.

Finally, Nat retreats back into the relative warmth of the diner.

You shoot a really quick text back to James before entering the establishment:

4:38 p.m later cat arcs

4:38 p.m wah

You laugh, but don’t respond as you walk down the back hall toward the kitchen. What are you getting yourself into? Who knows, but he’s funny, and everyone knows you need a little more funny in your life. So you push your phone into your back pocket and pull your apron over your head, trying to rid your mind of James and failing miserably.

When you finally get home after switching out with the graveyard shift, you’re exhausted and ready to just fall into bed.

Instead, you peel off your clothes—which smell unpleasantly of french fry grease and coffee—and shower away the diner stink. It’s while you’re getting yourself dressed again that you remember James. You’d been so busy that he’d been pushed to the back of your mind during the dinner rush and hadn’t re-appeared since. Until now.

You sigh and pull on a pair of leggings and a T-shirt before checking the clock. 8:08 p.m. Perfect.

You grab the only other key on the key rack in the kitchen and exit your apartment, locking the door and walking a few steps down the hall to the apartment next door.

Unlocking the door, you don’t even check to see if he’s home and opt instead to collapse onto his couch. Sure enough, you hear a deep voice down the hall talking on the phone. He doesn’t even know you’re here.

You met Steve Rogers—what was it?—two years ago? Probably somewhere around there. The two of you were just out of college and just beginning to live on your own. Steve, who had moved in a few weeks before you, had helped you unpack almost all of your boxes. You’d gone on to learn that he was an art major starting his own studio and that he had lived in Brooklyn his whole life. After finishing college, he’d decided to move out into an apartment not too far from his childhood home.

You couldn’t say the same thing. You’d lived your whole life in Manhattan, with its annoying cabs and its bright lights. Miss it desperately.

It takes Steve at least five more minutes to come out into the main living room, still on the phone.

“—g deal.” A pause. He makes his way into the kitchen, barefoot and wearing sweats. He still hasn’t seen you. “I’m sure it’s not, Buck. You’re overreacting.” Another pause. Now that he’s in the kitchen, he’s facing the counter, which faces the couch.

His eyes widen when he finally sets eyes on you and he frowns, mouthing, “What’re you doing here?”

You shrug and mouth back, “Bored.”

He smiles and waits for Bucky to finish talking to him over the phone. “Y/N’s here.” Pause. “Yeah.” Pause. He pulls the phone away from his cheek for a moment to address you. “Bucky wants to know if you enjoy breaking and entering.” Of course he knows you’ve just waltzed in unannounced; you’ve done it before.

You scoff and hold a hand to your chest in mock offense. “I’m offended! It’s not breaking and entering if I have a key,” you say holding up said shiny item. It glints in the poor lighting of the apartment.

Steve repeats what you said back to Bucky, who says something else. “No, I’m not—” a deep sigh. “Fine.” He looks at you again. “Bucky wants to know what you’d do if I was ‘with someone’?”

You raise your eyebrows. “Like Peggy?”

Steve blushes almost imperceptibly, but you catch it, and he nods once.

You shrug. “Leave.”

“Leave,” Steve parrots to Bucky, who must say something on the other line that Steve doesn’t like, because he shakes his head vigorously, despite the fact that Bucky can’t see him. “You’re gross, Buck.”

You tilt your head.

“Bucky wants to—”

Groaning, you pull yourself up from the couch, walk into the kitchen, and pluck the phone from Steve without giving him a chance to protest.

The line crackles for a moment, as if Bucky has been driving and has just gone under a tunnel, but it clears up in another moment, and you breathe into the receiver.

“That was annoying,” you say. “What does Bucky wanna tell me?”

Bucky laughs. “Bucky would like to know if you enjoy stealing his best friend.”

You look up at a very worried Steve. “He’s my best friend too.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Steve smiles at you and turns to put a filter in the coffee machine. You grab the coffee from the cupboard and hand it to Steve as Bucky replies.

“I knew him first,” is his retort.

“First is the worst,” you rebut, grabbing a few mugs from the drying board and retreating to the couch again. “Second is the best.”

“You can’t hear it,” Bucky replies, his voice higher than usual in the phone. Everyone, you think, sounds higher-pitched in the phone. It’s gotta be some sorta known fact or something. A scientific fact. Gotta be. “—but I’m sticking my tongue out at you.”

You poke your tongue out from between your lips and are extremely grateful that Steve has his back to you to prepare the coffee. “Me too.”

“Are you two done?” Steve says in the background as you stand again and sit on one of the stools on the other side of the counter.

“What’s he want?” Bucky asks.

“Wants to know if we’re done talking,” you repeat. “Think he misses his hubby.”

On the other end of the line, Bucky cracks up, laughing so loud that someone yells something—toward him, you guess—that you can’t make out. Bucky clears his throat and whispers, “Bye, Y/N. Gimme back my man.”

You laugh as Steve sets a cup of coffee in front of you, made just the way you like it. “Bye, Buck. See you later.”

Handing over the phone, you blow on the surface of your coffee, watching as Steve takes the phone, slotting it between his shoulder and ear, and gingerly brings his coffee over to the counter you’re sitting at. “Yeah,” he says to Bucky. “Yeah, I know. I’ll get on it, promise.” Break. “See you tomorrow. Night, Buck.”

A few seconds later, he hangs up the phone and turns his attention toward you. “You have work tomorrow?”

He’s talking about your other job, the one you went to college for: editing. You work at a low-budget publishing company and you spend all day reading over articles on topics you couldn’t care less about for grammatical mistakes. It’s your job during the week, but because it’s low-budget, you also work at the diner. Graveyard shift Tuesdays and Thursdays, regular shift Saturdays and Sundays.

Mondays are your days off of everything, and today is Sunday.

“Yeah,” you agree. “I took off Friday, so I figured I’d make it up by working tomorrow.”

Steve sips his coffee and then gives you an apologetic look. “At least it’ll be worth it.”

“Yeah,” you scoff. “Go out clubbing with you, Peggy, Bucky, Sam, and Wanda. Cause I’m really a club-going type of person.”

Steve’s sympathetic look makes you feel sort of bad for snapping. “I know. I’d rather be home painting or something, but Peggy and Bucky think it’s a good idea, and Sam was all for it, so.” He takes another sip of his coffee. You haven’t touched yours yet. Too hot. “You said Wanda’s coming? Guess Nat and Clint are—”

“Going out,” you nod, finishing for him. “And Bruce and Stark?”

“Some science thing down at the plant,” he sums up and you shake your head.

“Geeks,” you scoff.

“Geeks,” Steve agrees with a nod.

You end up talking to Steve for another hour before leaving. When you get back to your apartment, you hang the keys on their respective hooks in the kitchen and grab your phone from the counter before making your way to your room.

You undress and get into your pj’s before getting into bed and lying on your side, clicking your phone open.

There are four notifications waiting for you when you open it. The oldest is a Snap from Nat: 8:12 p.m. The next one is a message from Wanda, the preview reading something about the time for Friday: 8:31 p.m. Third is a message from your mom asking how work was and if you want her to drop off pasta for you tomorrow night: 8:54 p.m. The last one is—

New Message from Mr. Catarcs at 9:18 p.m.

Against your better judgement, you open that one first.

9:18 p.m i was wondering why u were so familiar and i figured out that it’s cuz u remind me of this girl i kno

10:03 p.m oh?

You open your other messages while you wait for an answer from him. Nat’s Snap is a pic of the sign outside of the diner—the chalkboard one—before she took it in, with the specials written in the manager’s handwriting. It’s colorful as hell and sports the worst drawing of a chicken you’ve ever seen sitting right next to the words Chicken Marsala. How had you missed that earlier?

You giggle and send one back, covering the camera with your thumb and writing ‘Wow’ in the black screen with red ink and some of those a-okay hand emojis.

Still no answer from James. It is now 10:06.

You tell your mother that you would love some pasta for tomorrow night, and ask her if she could send over a little more than usual so you could share it with Steve since he loves her cooking so much.

Still no answer.

It’s while you’re in the middle of telling Wanda that you’re going to pick her up around 7 on Friday night that your phone buzzes with a new message from James. You quickly send off the message to Wanda and click on the message from Mr. Catarcs at the top of your screen.

10:12 p.m yeh uve got the same attitude as her

10:13 p.m that a good thing?

10:15 p.m depends

10:15 p.m on?

10:15 p.m what ur like in person

You’re not sure what to do with that, so you let it sit for a little while before answering.

10:18 p.m guess you’ll have to get to know me better before that happens. need to make sure you’re not a serial killer or something

10:19 p.m im not a serial killer. r u?

10:20 p.m not as far as I know

10:21 p.m as far as uknow? what? u got smth to tell me

10:22 p.m definitely not

10:23 p.m unconvinced ur gonna have to try harder

You laugh.

10:24 p.m nah its fun to think about you wondering if i’m a jeffrey dahmer wannabe

10:25 p.m im scared

10:25 p.m certainly you’re not scared of lil ol’ me

10:26 p.m certainly not

10:27 p.m i can feel the sarcasm all the way over here

There are a few minutes of radio silence during which you think that you haven’t had a conversation this entertaining in a long time. It’s fun talking to James, and it makes you both slightly nervous and very excited to see what happens. It’s that edge-of-your-seat, staying-up-even-though-you’re-exhausted-to-answer-a-text feeling. It feels like high school. You grin down at your black phone screen and wait for it to buzz. A few seconds later, it does, with an incoming text from Mr. Catarcs.

10:31 p.m its fun talking to u grammar nazi

10:31 p.m you too, mr. catarcs

10:32 p.m im gunna get u to use txt lingo

10:32 p.m yeah right. good luck

10:33 p.m just wait. ill do it. dont need luck. ive got skill

10:33 p.m LOL. i repeat: good luck

10:33 p.m mad skillz

10:34 p.m good night catarcs

10:35 p.m u forgot a comma

10:35 p.m you*

10:36 p.m just u wait. imma do it. gnight grammar nazi

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the--blackdahlia · 7 years ago

Text

Red Dawn Chapter 17 (SPN AU)

Title: Red Dawn Chapter 17

Summary: Calumet, Colorado is just a normal, American town. And the Winchesters are just a normal family. Until war breaks out on their doorstep. Now, they have to fight not only for their lives, but the lives of their friends, neighbors, and all of America. Based off the Red Dawn movies.

Warnings: language, angst

AN: There should be one more chapter! Thank you for reading!

There was a checkpoint up ahead. Benny had taken the lead since Dean was in no position to show any papers or talk to any military personal. Amongst the refugees that Jo and Jimmy had in the truck were some military POW’s. Some of their group had been killed when they dropped into Calumet looking for the Hunters to offer them support. They were what was left. Andrew Gallagher, Victor Hendrickson, and Cole Trenton.

“Stop.” A man at the checkpoint said. Benny rolled down the window so the man could lean against it. “Can I help you?”

“Colonel Benjamin Lafitte requesting permission to bring some Americans home.” Benny said. He produced his papers for the man to review. “There are other military personal in the vehicles behind us.” The guy radioed back what he had and was told to let them enter. Benny motioned for everyone to follow, and together they made their way into Free America.

Dean wasn’t sure what was going on. One minute, he was sitting in the back of the Impala, holding Sam and praying that his pulse was just faint and would come back. The next, his little brother was being taken away from him with promises that they would try to fix this. Dean’s wild animal mode activated and he wanted to launch himself at the person who took his Sammy away from him, but he was held back by Cas and Bobby.

“Are you okay?” A sweet woman asked, noticing all the blood on Dean. A tear fell down his face.

“It’s not mine.” He whispered. She looked up at the two men who nodded in agreement. She offered up a sad smile before walking away to check on the others. Dean slumped against the Impala.

“Dean…” Cas said. Dean looked up at him.

“I failed him.” Dean whimpered. “Sammy…dad…mom…I failed them all.” Cas grabbed Dean and pulled him into a hug. And soon, he wasn’t alone. Several other arms were wrapped around them, hugging the last Winchester, trying to take away his pain.

“Dean.” Cain said, stepping towards him after the group had disbursed to get food and medical help. “As someone who has lost a brother, I know how hard this is for you.” He placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I just want you to know that now Sam is someplace safe, where nothing can hurt him. You did protect him in the end.”

“Why don’t I feel like it?” Dean asked. “Why can’t my dad and Sam and Caleb, and everyone that has died just come back?” Dean looked at Cain for the answers, but Cain could only offer a small shrug.

Later that night, Dean, Benny, Andy, Victor, and Cole were all set in the commanding officer for this post’s tent. He was debriefing the men of their “adventures” in enemy territory, and giving Dean and Benny credit for all the kills and saves. Dean didn’t say anything though. Because the one save that meant the world to him hadn’t been accomplished and he missed him. He missed him so damn much. Once the CO released them, Dean bolted, despite the fact that Benny hung back to talk to the other three. Dean wanted to find a bar and drink himself silly. Maybe he could drink just enough that he could see Sam again.

“Dean.” A soft voice from behind him. He turned around to see Ruby standing there.

“Shit Ruby, you can’t just sneak up on people like that.” Dean said.

“Sorry.” She said, looking down. She didn’t really talk much, Meg usually did all the talking for her, much like Dean used to do for Sam. “Lisa asked me to bring this to you.” She held out a Calumet High gym bag.

“Why?” Dean asked. Ruby looked up at him.

“It’s Sam’s.” She said. Dean didn’t even have to be told twice, swiping the bag from her.

“Uh…thanks Ruby.” Dean said. She nodded and walked away quickly. Dean quickly headed towards the quarters he had been given, wanting to hide away from everyone. He didn’t want to see another damn person ever again, but he knew that wasn’t possible. So hiding for a few hours was the next logical step.

Dean walked into the small tent. The fabric helped block out a lot of the sound from the outside. He flopped down on the provided cot, the gym bag setting on the ground beside him. He ran a hand down his face, fatigue hitting him hard. He was a little pissed at himself that he didn’t even get a bottle of beer, but there were more important things right now. Like that damn gym bag sitting on the floor. He carefully pulled it up onto the cot by him, like it was the most important object in the world. And to Dean, it was.

Carefully unzipping it, the first thing Dean saw were a couple pieces of clothing. Everyone kept a few pieces away from the general group that they didn’t want ruined. One of the shirts in Sam’s bag was one of Dean’s Led Zeppelin tees that he had left on the back floorboard of the Impala. The other was Sam’s soccer jersey he had been wearing the day they made a break for the mountains. Dean held it in his hands, staring at it. The wolverine colors, the name Winchester on the back, Sam’s number, every little detail. Dean carefully laid it aside and went through the bag more.

There was a couple spiral bound notebooks that had come in the supplies from Cassie and her brother. The first one Dean opened had some homemade games; tic-tac-toe, hangman, and Mad Libs. Dean had to smile some at the answers that he was sure Caleb had gave Sam for the Mad Libs. Sam’s best friend had a dirty mind and a dirty mouth, but if you had asked his mom, she would tell you he was a fine young man.

Dean got to witness that first hand.

The other notebook was a little bit thicker than the game one had been. Opening it up, Dean realized it wasn’t just a notebook. It was a journal. Sam had been writing in it, trying to keep himself sane. Carefully, Dean flipped each page, reading the little snippets that Sam had put on the pages. There were little doodles in the margins, but Sam’s real strength was with the words. He knew how to handle a pen and poor so much emotion and strength into the simplest of words. Dean sometimes was jealous that Sam had such an amazing gift. That’s when Dean noticed his name wrote at the top of the last page.

Dean,

If you’re reading this, then either I’m dead or stupid enough to let you read it. Probably the first part. I have the Winchester luck after all. If I’m dead, you’re probably blaming yourself right now, aren’t you? It’s not your fault Dean. Whatever I did, I probably shouldn’t have. But that’s not important right now. What is important is that you need to move on with your life. Don’t drink yourself into an early grave, don’t turn into dad, don’t do anything like that. You told me that you were going to get me out and I was going to go on and tell people our story. Well, this is how I’m going to do it. Through you. You have this journal and you have all the memories. You have to live on to tell our story. As for the rest of your life, I really liked Lisa, I thought she was nice, but I don’t think she was right for you. Plus her and Benny seem pretty close. Out of all your girlfriends that you’ve had in the past, I think I would be happy to see you and Cassie together. She risked her life to help us and I can’t think her enough. She’d be willing to put up with your dumbass. And Dean, here’s the mandatory chick flick moment that you hate (I know you love them). You’re the best big brother that anyone could ask for. And I know that you would be a great dad someday, because you already raised me.

I love you jerk, Sammy

Tears filled Dean’s eyes. He wasn’t sure if he could go on looking through Sam’s bag, but something was calling to him. He carefully laid the journal on top of the jersey. There were a couple small items in the bag that didn’t catch Dean’s interest, but one thing did. Sam’s wallet. He didn’t even know that Sam had brought it with him to the mountains. He saw a corner of a piece of paper sticking out of the bottom. He opened it to see a picture he thought would be lost for the rest of his life. One of his favorites. It was the one that he had seen several times on the fridge since John had it printed years ago. Sam was squirmy from John tickling his sides. Dean hadn’t really wanted to be there, but now he was glad he was.

Something snapped in Dean then. He didn’t cry anymore, he didn’t scream. He didn’t do anything like that. Instead, he gathered up everything of Sam’s and put it back in the bag. He grabbed his own items and headed towards the Impala. Some of the supplies from the mountains were still in the trunk of the Impala.

“Dean?” Cas said, watching the Winchester looking around the car. “Dean, what’s going on?” Dean didn’t say anything though. He just got in the car and sped off from the base. Cas ran over to the others who were in line to get food.

“Cas? What is it?” Benny asked. Cas’s eyes were wide.

“Guys, Dean just ran off.” Cas explained.

“What do you mean he ran off?” Jimmy asked.

“He’s gone.” Cas said. “He left. And I have a feeling he’s not coming back.”

Tag List: @petrovadixon @theas-bedtime-stories @aiaranradnay @policeofficerdean @af112992 @dekahg @cutie1365

#red dawn #supernatural #Sam Winchester #dean winchester #fanfiction #supernatural au #spn au #alternate universe #Jared Padalecki #Jensen Ackles

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writingwithadinosaur · 8 years ago

Text

“Guard Dog” - Part 4

Victor Zsasz x Reader

( Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 )

My Masterlist - Here

Other Characters: Oswald Cobblepot, Edward Nygma, Harvey Dent

Word Count: 2450

Key: Y/N = Your Name, L/N = Your Last Name, Y/N/N = Your Nickname, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: Fluff

Summary: First day at work with Harvey Dent after the home invasion.

Author’s Note: One more part after this one! It’s gonna be so fucking cute and fluffy. Just get ready! It will be on the lengthier side. Like around 3000 - 4000 words probably.

Also, special shout out to @theeactress for reading this before I posted it and for keeping me sane! One of my best friends and one of the people who have saved me time and time again. Thank you so much! <3

If you would like to be tagged in any future pieces, please let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

- DreaSaurusREX

Tags: @luciebell-writes @welcome-to-cobblepothell

You were startled awake because of the sound of your alarm. It took you a couple of seconds to realize what exactly was going on.

6 AM. Monday morning.

You moved to hit snooze and then cuddle back up to Victor, who had apparently woken up to your alarm too. When you were back next to him, he was a bit confused.

“Aren’t you gonna get ready for work?” His voice was a bit deeper than usual, laced with sleep. It was honestly one of your favorite little things about living with him. You snuggled a bit more into his neck as he wrapped his arm around you.

“I hit snooze. I just need a couple of minutes to prepare myself. I’ll have plenty of time. I don’t have to be there until 8.” You were honestly doing that. Thinking of how you were going to find one of your blouses and skirt to wear, do your makeup, pack a lunch, and have something for breakfast. But wait, how am I getting to work? As if Victor could read your mind, he cleared his throat a bit.

“You want me to drive you to work?” He felt you nod your head yes and he kissed the top of your head. “Alright, we’ll get moving when your alarm goes off.”

You ended up wearing a simple top and kind of colorful skirt as opposed to one of your usual solid colored one and comfy heels. This was pretty normal for you. As you were finishing up your makeup, you smelled something good. You got your bag together and headed to the kitchen to find Victor at the stove, making some eggs.

Sometimes you forget what he does for a living. You don’t usually see him when he is working. You knew that that Victor was always here, the tally marks that grew on his arms were reminders. You didn’t mind it though. He was doing a good thing in your eyes.

But your Victor was your favorite. Your Victor was sweet, caring, protective, strong, and everything you had ever wanted in a man.

Your Victor was also not a bad cook at all, and he likes to cook for you. With both of your schedules being as crazy as they have been, you both didn’t really see each other when eating unless you guys made plans. But living with him meant that this might be a normal thing now. You weren’t going to object to that thought.

You just smiled and walked into the kitchen, hugging Victor from behind. You felt his chuckle vibrate through his torso.

“Well, hey there, sweetheart. Breakfast will be ready in a couple minutes.” You slid around to his side and kiss his cheek before heading to the refrigerator to grab the carton of orange juice.

Victor saw a bit of your outfit out of the corner of his eye and had to turn and really take you in. He moved the pan off the burner and whistled. You were kind of surprised by his reaction and felt a small blush rise on your cheeks. He’s seen your work outfits before. But for some reason, today’s outfit struck Victor. You knew he thought you were attractive in many different ways, but you had some trouble seeing yourself through his eyes. That being said, you never stopped trying.

“God damn!” He had a big, kind of doofy smile on his face while he really took the sight of you in.

“Stop. It’s nothing special.” You couldn’t even look at him you felt so flustered. There was no hiding the blush on your cheeks or the silly smile on your face.

You put the orange juice carton down on the counter and tried to hide your face as you reached for a glass. But Victor stopped you and grabbed your hand, lowering it a bit.

“Bbaaaaabbbbe, you look amazing! Why are you hiding?”

He pulled back a little bit while still holding your hand, so he could get a really good look at you. He spun you around a bit, causing both of you to laugh, before he pulled you into his arms. You looked up at him smiling, he had a similar smile on his face before he leaned down and kissed you. Both of you were smiling into the kiss.

You finally pulled apart and went back to getting your juice. You then went to pack a lunch since you knew you wouldn’t be able to really go anywhere alone out in the city until you were back to normal. You were remarkably improving, but there were still times when you really couldn’t be alone.

Lunch was packed and Victor finished setting the table for the two of you. You both ate and made small talk. Before you knew it, it was 7:30 and you needed to head out. Victor quickly put the dishes in the sink and grabbed his car keys.

It was only a 15 minute drive from Oswald’s, but it seemed much shorter to you for some reason. Victor soon pulled in front of the office building and parked the car. You opened your own door, but Victor did meet you for a quick kiss. You were taken by surprise.

“Wait, I thought we weren’t going to do anything public?” He sighed and put his arms around you.

“Well, considering how fast word spreads around here, I’m sure most important people in Gotham know about us by now. Why keep hiding?” In all honesty, you hated keeping this a secret from everyone. So hearing him basically say fuck it, made you very happy. You leaned up and kissed him once more.

“Alright then. As much as I would love to show some more PDA for all of Gotham to see, I do have to get to work.” He gave a fake pout and let go of you. Then there was another familiar voice that came from behind Vic. You looked a bit over his shoulders and froze a bit.

Your boss, Harvey Dent, was right there. Apparently he was going to welcome you back and walk you in. Victor just chuckled a bit before kissing your cheek and whispering in your ear.

“Sorry not sorry. I’ll see you later. Call me if you need anything.” And then he was back in the car. You turned your focus to Harvey. He was all smiles.

“So, you and the infamous Victor Zsasz, huh.” You just shoved his shoulder a bit, causing both of you to laugh.

“Shut up, Harv.”

“I won’t tell anyone. I know how much trouble that would cause for all the parties involved.” You really appreciated how chill Harvey was with finding out that your boyfriend was an assassin.

“Let’s just get to work. What did I miss?”

~~~~~~~~

It was finally time for your lunch break. You had been working like mad trying to get caught up on the cases that Harvey was currently working on and trying to help him with them. But now you could finally escape to the common room and eat your lunch that you had packed earlier.

As you sat down, you pulled your phone from your purse and texted Victor. He was probably worried like crazy.

(Y/N): Hey! Sorry for not updating you sooner. Been crazy. On lunch break now. Good thing I packed a lunch. There is no way I could have walked to the diner down the street by myself.

Victor: It’s okay, sweetheart. I figured you would be swamped. Glad to know you’re safe. Do you need me to pick you up? What time should I come by?

You hadn’t really thought about that. A slight panic started until you realized that Victor had really already taken care of that.

(Y/N): 7 o’clock please. Thank you. I didn’t even think about that.

Victor: That should be fine. I’ll let you know when I get there.

Then your phone alarm went off, telling you that your break was over. You took your last bite of your sandwich before texting Victor.

(Y/N): Well, time to get back to the mountain of files I have to sort through. Most likely will be bringing some of this back home with me. I’ll talk to you later. I love you.

Victor: I love you too, sweetheart. Be safe. I’ll see you later.

~~~~~~~~

The next few hours went by surprisingly fast. Keeping yourself constantly working probably helped with that. You were packing up your bag and grabbing a stack of files to take home when Harvey tapped on your desk.

“Hey, (Y/N). I don’t want to overstep any boundaries or reopen any wounds, but please be careful. You are just getting back into the groove of things. Please don’t overwork yourself.”

“I promise I will stay in one piece. I love this job and I will get caught up and back to normal by the end of the week.” He gave you a sort of worried look. You two had gotten very close because of this job, he was one of your friends. So it was natural for him to worry a bit.

“How are you getting home?” You looked at your watch and saw that it was 6:50PM.

“Victor should be here in 10 minutes. I told him 7 o’clock. Do I need to let you know when I get back safe?” You meant to say that last part in a sarcastic way, but it looked like Harvey actually considered it. He ended up shaking his head no and moved the conversation.

“Alright, if you ever need a ride, let me know.” He was about to walk out the door when he turned around. “Just come back tomorrow, rested and okay, okay?” You nodded your head in agreement. You said your goodbyes and sat at your desk, trying to find some more clips. Then you heard your phone go off. A text from Victor.

Victor: Before I start, I need you to not panic when you read this. I worked something out, but I wanted to fill you in. Oswald needs this hit done tonight. I am on my way to the job. I told Oswald about picking you up. Edward is on his way. I am so sorry. I will text you when I’m on my way home. It shouldn’t be a long job. I will have my phone on silent, but I will check it often. Let me know when you get back safe. I love you so much.

You didn’t know what to respond for a few minutes. Thankfully it was Edward picking you up and not making you walk alone. A couple of deep breaths.

(Y/N): It’s okay. I understand. At least Edward wasn’t busy. And I just talked to Harvey, he said I can get a ride from him if I ever need one. I’ll wait for Edward and text you when I’m home. I love you. Be safe.

Your phone rang right at 7 o’clock. Edward called to let you know that he was outside. You made your way downstairs and to the car. Edward tried to make small talk until you finally got home. You went straight to your room and changed out of your work clothes. As you were taking your makeup off, you texted Victor.

(Y/N): I’m home. Gonna reheat leftovers and watch a movie or something. Be safe. Love you.

A few minutes later, your phone buzzed.

Victor: Almost done here. This guy doesn’t have any good info. Should be home in an hour.

Sure enough, an hour passed and Victor walked through the door, gave you a kiss, and then headed for a shower. The two of you relaxed in bed while watching a movie until you eventually fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~

This soon became the routine. You and Victor would wake up together, have breakfast. He would drop you off. If he couldn’t pick you up, he would make Oswald or Edward accompany you. And in the very rare case that they couldn’t, Victor would call you and have you ask Harvey.

You liked this routine. And then, a week later, Victor asked if you could tweak it a little bit. He wanted to start training you. Self defense, hand to hand combat, weapons training, and anything else he could think of. You gladly accepted the offer and talked to Harvey. One of the many benefits of working with Harvey was the fact that he was very kind and understanding. When you explained to him that you wanted to work from 9AM - 6PM on Monday/Wednesday/Friday and then work from home on Tuesday/Thursday and the weekends, he was leaning towards saying yes but needed the reason why.

“Well, after the whole home invasion thing, Victor and I thought that it is time for me to get some training done. He’s going to work with me on self defense and how to protect myself. It will help me feel more comfortable and be able to really get back to normal. But I understand if you want me to stay to my normal schedule cause I’m already behind and–” Harvey cut you off.

“(Y/N), you’re fine. I know how hardworking you are, and I agree that this will benefit you. I’ll talk to Catherine about adjusting the master schedule. I do have three conditions though.”

“Of course you have conditions. What are they?” You both laughed at the stereotypical nature of Harvey before he responded.

“1) If there is an urgent case or if I need you in court, you have to be there. No exceptions.

2) You make sure not to overwork yourself with the training or with the cases.

3) Please keep me updated. Let me know if you need anything or if there is anything I can do to help.”

You expected stricter conditions. So when you heard these, you kind of laughed.

“I think I can manage those conditions.” You both chuckle a bit before you get kind of serious. “Thank you. I really appreciate this and everything you’ve done for me these past couple of weeks.”

“I’m just glad that I get to keep one of the best assistants in Gotham and one of my friends as safe as she can be.” You both hug for a second before you excuse yourself to text Victor.

(Y/N): Harvey is fine with giving me Tuesday/Thursday and weekends off to work at home and train with you. He was very into the training idea. He’s going to talk to Catherine and rearrange my schedule.

Victor: That’s great! We will start as soon as we can.

#victor zsasz x reader #gotham imagine #gotham fanfiction #gotham fic #Victor Zsasz imagine #Harvey dent x reader

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katalytic · 8 years ago

Note

Raw or Smackdown?

See, if I was not sleep-deprived, this would be an easy answer, and we could go on with our lives after I replied with one or the other. BUT since I got like… two? three? hours of sleep, and I tend to ramble when tired, I’m going to reply to this with A Very Long Post about my (very jumbled) thoughts on each show. Click on the “Read More” to, uh, read more (unless you’re on the mobile app – whoops).

Raw:

Since the brand split, Raw has had this issue where they either pull the trigger on a story line too early OR they let a story line limp to its sad conclusion, thereby ensuring no one gives a fuck by the end of it. However, in the past few weeks (since WWE has been “on the road to Wrestlemania”), they’ve gotten better at letting stories breathe while still adding a couple of new wrinkles to keep things fresh.

Please let this be the start of a trend and not something that stops as soon as Wrestlemania ends.

The Universal Title looks deadass like Lord Zedd from “Power Rangers” after a bedazzling accident.

Raw has my very favorite wrestler, Sami Zayn. Unfortunately, being a Sami Zayn fan right now feels like what it felt like being a Chicago Cubs fan in 2014 – you knew good things were around the corner, but can we see at least two wins strung together? Why Must I Suffer Like This?

Raw also has my other favorite wrestler, Bayley… whose character has suffered since joining the main roster, in my opinion. However, if WWE pulls off the Sasha Banks heel turn and shows how Sasha has slowly been manipulating Bayley this entire time, all will be forgiven.

Sasha Banks returning from her injury and decking Dana Brooke in the face was what cemented my wrestling fandom.

Can we talk about the women’s division, though? Because there are literally only four women they’re using in the division on Raw right now: Charlotte, Sasha Banks, Bayley, and Nia Jax.

Alicia Fox is busy having messy relations with Noam Dar.

Emma became Emmalina for a hot minute before she was “lol nah” and disappeared back into her cocoon or whatever.

Dana Brooke is JUST NOW getting out from under Charlotte’s thumb. This is a story line that should’ve been done ages ago.

Paige’s neck is, like, dead or something.

There are probably other women I’m forgetting because I haven’t seen them, like, ever.

Like, why? Why just these four?

Also, Nia Jax seems like a lovely person in real life, and I dig her in-ring character. But she does entire promos through her nose, and her theme makes me go “(dismissive wanking motion)” every time I hear it.

The first time I ever knew what a Seth Rollins was, he was returning from injury and then screaming at the crowd for cheering him. Iconic.

That’s probably why I didn’t really buy into his whole “yes I am a babyface now” act until he did his in-ring interview about his new knee injury. He just seemed like a snotty brat acting out because Mom and Dad had a new baby to dote on up until that point.

The whole Kevin Owens/Chris Jericho friendship thing went on for way too long but the Festival of Friendship was worth all of it.

Chris Jericho… what a goddamn delight he was this year. I’m going to be sad when he leaves to tour with Fozzy after Wrestlemania.

I’m glad Kevin Owens is being Actually Evil again.

I can’t believe it’s taken them this long to finally figure out Roman Reigns’ sweet spot as a character (tough as nails, dismissive of the old guard, doesn’t really give two shits about the crowd booing him because he knows what he’s about), but I’m glad I’m here to witness it. Now don’t fuck this up.

Because oh lawd before this Roman Reigns’ characterization was… A Mess. The less said about his reign as United States Champion, the better. Let’s all just… agree to forget this happened?

(I still want him to admit that he misses The Shield and that’s why he keeps everything vaguely Shield-like AND why he was so quick to be friends with Seth again.)

The tag team division is another mess. The New Day seem like they’re finally back on track in new IDGAF personas now that they don’t have the weight of the longest championship reign in tag team division history!!11! holding them down. But everyone else? Yikes.

Except, weirdly, Sheamus, who is actually pretty fun now.

Enzo Amore and Big Cass probably suffered the most out of everyone in the tag team division while The New Day were busy making history. (The whole storyline with Rusev and Lana? Let’s never speak of it again.) I used to look forward to them, but now, their music hits, and I stare off into an invisible camera like I’m on “The Office.”

Listen. I appreciate what Stephanie McMahon has done behind the scenes, and I get that her character on “Raw” is supposed to be an asshole. I understand. But I still want someone to hit her with a chair.

Triple H looks like he needs to take a dump. Like, all the time. He has permanent dumpface.

Come back to me, Finn Balor.

SmackDown:

SmackDown, to me, has been the more coherent and consistent of the two brands since the brand split. I think that the one thing that people were touting as its detriment at the start of the brand split – the smaller roster – actually turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Less characters means less working parts you have to shuffle around for stories to work.

Of course, the smaller roster means that you had the same four dudes vying for championships at the start of the brand split, but to the writers’ credit, they’ve been expanding that pool a bit.

The Randy Orton/Bray Wyatt story line. I mean, fucking hell. Did anyone expect it to be, like, good? Who knew Orton getting his head split open like an overripe melon during SummerSlam would lead to this? Shout out to everyone involved for being completely invested in it and taking even the most ridiculous parts of the story deadly seriously, because any sort of wink and nod to the audience would ruin it.

The Miz is the greatest heel on either brand, and it’s not even close. He even got me to feel sorry for Dolph Ziggler for a minute, there. Genius.

I know a lot of people still don’t like John Cena, and after watching older episodes of Raw and SmackDown on WWE Network, I can understand why. But the Meta Cena of this past year is the best version of John Cena possibly ever.

Also, Nikki Bella coming out to save Cena three weeks in a row makes my heart flutter. LOVE IS REAL.

The women’s division needs more women, but at least they’re using everyone in the division.

I would vote Alexa Bliss as WWE Rookie of the Year if there was such an award. (Is there such an award?) Yeah, she’s still green in the ring, but her character work has been fantastic to watch. A sneaky-good NXT callup.

The tag team division is a mess on this show, as well. American Alpha won the titles and then went a month without having to defend them. That’s how much of an afterthought the division has been.

Hopefully, the Usos winning the titles last night will help. Their heel turn has been one of the few bright spots in the entire division this year, so I’m hoping that’ll help elevate things.

Dean Ambrose growing a beard was a significant highlight for WWE this year, as far as I’m concerned. Now he doesn’t look like a baby with a combover anymore.

AJ Styles is probably one of my favorite characters in WWE right now. He’s like the Cool Old Guy crossed with the Only Sane Man who’s also Wrong Genre Savvy. Like, he’s the one dude on this show who sees it as an actual athletic competition and cannot comprehend the chicanery that surrounds him.

Take him calling out Daniel Bryan and Shane McMahon for giving Randy Orton a match against him to be in the main event at Wrestlemania. Yes, on LITERALLY ANY OTHER SHOW, he would be completely right about how COMMITTING ARSON should not somehow grant Randy Orton a chance to be anywhere else other than jail. But he doesn’t realize he’s on a TV show about a wrestling show. Like, you shared a locker room with a an undead zombie wrestler AND a mystical cult leader, both of whom can teleport, my guy. That’s fine, but arson – ARSON is where you draw the line. Okay, buddy.

And then, when he sort of figures out that, hey, the rules of the outside world don’t matter on this show, he manages to break the ONE RULE he shouldn’t have: attacking a McMahon. And he still gets kind of rewarded for it (if you think having to carry Shane McMahon through a match where he is guaranteed to attempt to destroy himself at least once is a reward – which, honestly, it is, in WWE-land).

After all this, you’re probably wondering “So… Raw or SmackDown?” tl;dr: Raw has more of my favorite wrestlers, but SmackDown has the story lines I’m more invested in.

#wwe #wrestling #raw #smackdown #i'm sorry i had a lot of feelings #anonymous #the box of questions

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