#i feel like maybe I’m setting myself up to be harassed | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vroomvro0mferrari · 7 months ago

Text

LN4 | Panic at the Disco

Summary: When you call your brother to pick you up from the club, it's his best friend who answers.

Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader

WC: 1.3K

Warnings: Maybe slight panic attack, insinuated sexual harassment/assault

Part 2

Masterlist

You rush through the club in a hurry, bumping into God knows how many people as you search for the exit. The hot, stuffy air makes it even more difficult to breathe as you keep pushing through the crowd. You can feel the wetness of your tears run down your cheeks as you reach the exit, nearly running into the bouncer checking IDs outside. You stand close to him as you wipe your cheeks and sniffle, trying to calm yourself down while you rummage through your purse in search of your phone. Taking a deep breath, you call your brother.

You wait impatiently as the phone rings. He doesn’t answer, so you call again. And again. Eventually, after three tries, the phone is picked up.

“Hello? Max?” You say rushedly.

You hear some noise on the other side. In your frenzy, you don’t realise it’s not your brother, not from the mere grumpy hello the phone is answered with.

“Can you come pick me up? Please?” The sheer panic you’re experiencing is clear in your voice. Lando can even hear your sniffling through the phone as you wipe your hand under your nose.

“Y/N? Is that you? Are you crying?” He asks, much more awake now as he sits up from his position on the couch.

“Who’s this? Lando?” You realise now that you hear him speak; it's your brother’s best friend – to your frustration.

“Yes.”

“Why are you answering my brother’s phone?” You ask annoyed.

“We were just hanging out, he fell asleep and—”

“You know what – it doesn’t matter. Can you tell him to come pick me up please?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m not sure, uhm, it’s called Palace, I think.” You sniffle. “You’ll send him to get me?” You ask hopefully.

“I’ll come get you myself. I’m just putting my shoes on, I’ll be there in a bit,” he says, putting your brother’s phone on speaker mode and stepping into his shoes.

“Lando you don’t have to come, just tell Max to come pick me up, please. I need him right now,” you say, frustrated that Lando wants to come. He’s not who you want and need at this moment; you need someone who you can trust, who’ll protect you and make you feel safe after what just happened. You need your brother, a close friend, or maybe even your father, but not Lando. Why can’t he understand that? You can feel your tears welling up again in frustration.

Lando ignores you, however. “Are you safe right now? You should try to find a group of people or something, stick to them until I get there, okay?”

“Lan—” He cuts you off, in a rush to get to you.

“Do you want to stay on the phone? I’m getting in the car right now, I’ll be there in, like, eight minutes.”

“Lando, just send Max, please.”

“I’m already in the car. Do you want me to stay on the line, or not?” You hear the car revving in the background.

You sigh. Nevertheless, you’re relieved he’s on his way and you don’t have to stay here much longer. “That’s not necessary, Lando. I’m with the bouncer right now. Just come quick, please?” You’ve given up on the idea that your brother might come, Lando’s very much set in his ways.

“Of course, I’ll be right there,” Lando says firmly before hanging up.

Although you and Lando aren’t the best of friends, you get along well enough. Regardless, you get caught up in discussions quite regularly; both of you are passionate and stubborn in your opinions – it rarely happens that you and Lando do not end up being separated by your brother or a mutual friend. However, that you know exactly how to push each other's buttons doesn’t mean Lando doesn’t care about you. In fact, the opposite is true. Although he would never admit it, Lando has liked you for quite a while and cares for you deeply, even though he doesn’t generally show his feelings. And so, when you call him (well, not him specifically, but that doesn’t matter) crying and upset, he worries about you. He could’ve woken up your brother, who you obviously would have preferred over him, but he wants to be the one who’s there for you. He wants to be the one who protects you and keeps you safe – better yet, the one who makes you feel safe, if he could ever accomplish such a thing.

Lando exceeds his own expectations when he arrives at the nightclub in under five minutes. Already spotting you standing with the big, bulky bouncer, arms wrapped around yourself in an attempt to keep yourself warm in the cold, late night (or early morning) breeze. He carelessly parked his car on the side of the road, barely turning on the hazard lights before exiting the car.

“Y/N! Are you okay?” He jogs towards the club entrance, concern showing on his face.

You lifted your head at the familiar voice yelling your name. Quickly thanking the bouncer who kept you company, you rushed over to the familiar boy. You had never been so happy to see Lando.

He pulled you into his arms as soon as you were within his reach. Cradling your head and brushing your hair with one hand, while the other pulled you closer by your waist. Although you initially wanted your brother to come, this was good too – you’d even go as far as to say you were enjoying it. Despite your differences, Lando’s presence (more specifically, his strong arms holding you tight) made you feel at ease and calmed you down. He relieved the tenseness of your body and you relaxed in his hold. Hiding your face in his neck and fisting the fabric of his shirt, you nestled yourself comfortably in Lando’s body and exhaled the breath you had been holding.

He buried his nose in your hair on the top of your head, breathing in your scent and smiling at the feeling of you snuggling into him. It felt right, so right, to be holding you like this. He whispers, “Are you okay?” You merely nod your head, not wanting to leave his embrace. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” He questions further.

You stay silent, enjoying Lando’s strong hold on you. It makes you feel safe. Safe enough to share what happened in the club. “There was some random guy who thought he was entitled to my attention.” You mumble into his neck.

“He didn’t touch you, did he?” He continues, already fearing the answer.

You let a silence fall before answering, “He did,”

Lando squeezes you tighter at the revelation. He’s not surprised a man ruined your fun night out.

You continue quickly, “But there were some girls who helped me, and I think they kicked him out. I’m not sure though, I left as soon as I could. Then I called Max, but he didn’t answer, and now…”

“I’m sorry,” Lando says, a pained expression on his face. “Men are shit.”

You let out a small laugh and Lando can barely avoid shivering at the feeling of your warm breath hitting the sensitive skin of his neck. Nevertheless, he smiles in accomplishment when he hears the sound, glad he could cheer you up.

“You want to go home? To my place, I mean, Max is there…”

“Yes,” you say into Lando’s neck, sighing before distancing yourself from him.

He kisses the top of your head before letting you leave his hold, ��Let’s go then,” he says, pulling you along to his car, still tucked into his side.

– – – – –

Part 2

2K notes · View notes

brainddeadd · 24 days ago

Note

Enemies to Lovers?

Jack Hughes and you are exes. Exes who cannot stand each other. So what happens when you happen to both be at the bar and a guy won’t leave you alone?

Unwanted Attention

The bar was packed, the bass of the music vibrating through the floor as laughter and chatter filled the air. You leaned against the counter, nursing a drink and trying to drown out the noise with your thoughts. It had been a long week, and the last thing you wanted was to run into him tonight.

Jack Hughes. Your ex. The guy who made your heart race and then shattered it into a million pieces. You’d both tried to act like it was all fine, like the breakup hadn’t left a crater-sized hole in your life, but the tension whenever you were in the same room was palpable. You thought you could avoid him tonight, but the universe had other plans.

“Hey there, beautiful,” a guy slurred, sidling up to you. He was tall and had that cocky grin that made you cringe. You glanced at him, hoping he’d get the hint and walk away.

“Not interested,” you replied flatly, turning back to your drink.

But he leaned in closer, undeterred. “C’mon, don’t be like that. Let me buy you a drink.”

You were about to tell him off when a voice cut through the noise, smooth and confident. “She said she’s not interested. Back off, man.”

You turned to see Jack standing there, arms crossed and eyes narrowed at the guy. He looked infuriatingly handsome, his dark hair slightly messy and his jaw set in that stubborn way you used to find adorable. You felt a mix of irritation and something else entirely.

“Jack, I don’t need your help,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I can handle myself.”

“I can see that,” he replied, his tone laced with sarcasm, “but clearly, he can’t.”

The guy scoffed, sizing Jack up. “And who the hell are you?”

“Someone who doesn’t want to watch you make a fool of yourself,” Jack shot back, stepping closer, an unspoken challenge hanging in the air.

The guy hesitated, glancing between you and Jack before finally retreating, muttering under his breath as he walked away.

“Thanks for the rescue, but I didn’t ask for it,” you snapped, irritation flaring. You didn’t want to be grateful to him.

“Looked like you needed it,” Jack replied, unfazed. “You should’ve just told him to leave you alone.”

“I did!” you countered, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “But it’s not like you care.”

Jack let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I might not care about you, but I don’t want to see you get harassed. You’re still—”

“Still what?” you interrupted, eyes narrowing. “Still your ex? Still someone you can just swoop in and act like a hero?”

He leaned closer, the tension between you thickening the air. “You know I never meant to hurt you. We’re both just… stubborn.”

You stared at him, heart pounding. The memories of your time together flickered through your mind—the laughter, the passion, the arguments that felt more like sparks than fights. “Stubborn? You’re the one who decided to break up with me.”

“And you’re the one who swore I’d never hear from you again,” he shot back, his voice low and intense.

The moment hung in the air, and for a brief second, you both stood there, the noise of the bar fading into the background. You were acutely aware of how close he was, how his presence sent a shiver down your spine.

Just then, the guy returned, seemingly undeterred by Jack's previous intervention. “What’s going on here? I thought you were just some nobody.”

Before you could react, Jack stepped in front of you, a smirk playing on his lips. “Why don’t you take a good look? I’m definitely not a nobody.”

You couldn’t help but feel a surge of adrenaline at Jack’s sudden confidence. Maybe you weren’t done with him just yet. “You should probably just leave before I report you to security,” you added, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions inside you.

The guy, realizing he was outmatched, huffed and turned away, muttering something under his breath as he left. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Well, that was… something,” Jack said, turning back to you, an eyebrow raised. “Guess you can handle yourself after all.”

“Thanks for the assist,” you said, your tone softening slightly. “But really, I didn’t need you to swoop in and play the knight.”

Jack shrugged, a grin breaking across his face. “Just looking out for you. Maybe I’m not as bad as you think.”

“Maybe,” you said, the tension between you both shifting, transforming into something more electric. “But I still don’t like you.”

“Good thing I like a challenge,” Jack replied, his eyes glinting with mischief.

In that moment, you both knew that while the past was still there, it didn’t have to define your future. And maybe, just maybe, you could find a way back to each other, even if it started with a little rivalry.

#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagines #jack hughes fanfic #° braindead writes

50 notes · View notes

all-mirth-no-matter · 11 months ago

Text

Time After Time | Chapter Fourteen

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader, Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Summary: Startling revelations ensue after drinking the tea. While you wait for Tommy to return, Benji comes in search for another date. Ada takes you shopping for a new dress to wear to the races.

Warning: language, slight supernatural (kinda?), harassment (not anything explicit but not fun), less tommy in this one but promise next chapter will make up for it!

ao3 link | catch up on tumblr here

Chapter 14: Raise Hell

I found myself an omen, and I tattooed on a sign. I set my mind to wandering, and I walk a broken line. You have a mind to keep me quiet, and although you can try. Better men have hit their knees, and bigger men have died.

It came upon a lightning strike, and eyes of bright clear blue. I took that tie from around my neck, and gave my heart to you. I sent my love across the sea, and though I didn’t cry. That voice will haunt my every dream, until the day I die.

— Raise Hell, Brandi Carlile

The tea cup landed on the rug with a soft thud, the hot liquid spilling at your feet — though you couldn’t feel a degree of it.

Your mouth gapped open at the sight before you — your mother, sitting on the rug across from you, her legs crossed same as yours, as she smiled at you.

“This isn’t real,” you whispered, still too surprised to move, your heart racing.

Your eyes searched over your mother’s features, looking for some hint of something fake to indicate the trick that was being played here.

But there was your mother — as plain as day. There was no otherworldly glow or translucent quality. She looked solid, wearing the same kind of modern shirt and jeans that she would have been wearing back when she was alive, looking very out of place against the 20th century backdrop.

The only difference between the person in front of you and the memory of your mother was the smile on her face.

“Real is quite relative, don’t you think, Y/N?”

Her voice sounded the same as well, if not maybe stronger than it had in her last handful of years.

Instinct to combat your mother reared its ugly head as you scoffed and responded involuntarily, “Quite relative to whether I’m hallucinating or dreaming, sure.”

Your mother chuckled, “I’ve missed you, my darling. We have so much to talk about.”

Swallowing, you accepted that whether dream, hallucination, ghost, or indeed real, you’d done this for a reason. You’d been given this opportunity by the Delphi for a reason. It was now or never, and you couldn’t let a little thing like freaking out over talking to your dead mother stand in your way.

“Do you know what’s happened to me?” you asked, feeling yourself sit up a little straighter.

Her smile fell, eyes moving around the bedroom before landing back on you, running down the clothes you were wearing. “The curse. It finally came for you, too.”

“Too? Are you saying—“

“Yes. I too was pulled from my present and into the past. As was my mother, and her mother, and her mother before that.”

You couldn’t believe it. Of all the things you had expected, this hadn’t even crossed your mind. “How far back?” you wondered aloud.

She shrugged, “Centuries, I suppose. All the first born daughters of this cursed lineage. Cursed to know the future, because it’s our past.”

So that was the schtick, you realized. You couldn’t predict the future, but you could recall it from a past that hadn’t happened yet — as long as you’d been paying attention. Your mother’s insistence of learning history now made more sense.

And yet, there was still a big question, one you asked aloud, “Why?”

“I don’t know. That is still a mystery.” Your mother dropped her head slightly out of shame, “Even in death, I’m still searching for answers.”

I curse you, Cassandra! The voice from your dreams echoed through your head and a crazy realization hit you. “Who was the first?”

Your mother swallowed. “When you were born, I saw a vision of my daughter. A woman who would know the future, just like I did. I heard the whisper of a name. It should have been a warning, but I was under a lot of drugs and hormones and thought the name was pretty. So did your father. We already had your first name picked out so on the spot agreed to name you Cassandra. I had no idea it was the name of our matriarch — of the first to be cursed.”

“So it’s true, we come from the original Cassandra of Troy?” Your mother nodded and you shook your head. “But that doesn’t make any sense. Say the stories are true — say the Greek Gods really existed — she could actually tell the future and she’s from the ancient past.”

“Another mystery.”

You huffed, so sick of the ambiguity.

“I’m sorry,” your mother said softly, causing you to meet her eyes again. “For lying to you all those years, for confusing you. For causing you grief and madness.”

You felt a lump in your throat, your chest tight at hearing the acknowledgment you’d wished for your whole childhood. Your brain wanted to comfort her, tell her it was alright, but your heart was more wounded than you’d ever realized.

You swallowed down the rise of tears that were threatening to build and changed the subject. “When were you born?”

She blinked, aware of your deflection method, and answered. “The early 2020s.”

“But that’s so—“

“Close?” your mother sighed. “Yes. I grew up blissful — my mother never mentioned her own displacement. So when I was stripped from my loved ones in 2040 to 1990, I was distraught. I was lucky to meet your father, though regretfully I was never able to open myself up completely to him, still mourning the loss of my first love. I would jump from fits of madness to total denial. After we had you, I thought things would be different. But as you grew, I became more suspicious that you would also be stripped away from me, or I you, and the fear drove me mad. So I tried to prepare you. But the closer I got to my own birth date, the madder I became and more desperate for answers I grew. Eventually, I became convinced that I’d made the whole thing up. The line between reality and delusion became nonexistent.”

You felt the tears begin to pool again as you thought about your own struggles with reality since arriving here. Madam Despoina had told you that you were stronger than your mother. But that wasn’t fair. None of this was fair.

“I’m sorry for your father, as well,” she went on. You opened your mouth to protest, but she stopped you. “I was able to warn him about certain events — terrorism, the housing bubble, natural disasters — but I couldn’t save him, not in the end.”

“Did you ever tell him? Properly, that is?” You found yourself asking, thinking about Tommy.

Your mother shook her head. “Not directly. The best I could come up with was the gift of prophecy. After a while of telling that story, a part of me began to believe it. Believe it for you.”

“I’m sorry,” you found yourself saying, “for being so hard on you. I didn’t understand—“

“And now you do,” she said with a soft smile, “more now than ever. And unfortunately, darling, I’m going to have to put pressure on you one final time.”

“What do you mean?”

“The curse — it must be broken. You have to find a way to break it.”

“Me? Why—“ your words stopped as you thought about Madam Despoina’s prophecy. “‘You have a chance to mend ancient mistakes. Break the cursed chain, end the line of travel.’ A woman from the Delphi family who said she was a descendent of the Pythia told me that.”

She smiled knowingly again, “Your tattoo, ya?”

Your mouth dropped slightly, “You knew?”

“I have the same one. I had the same impulse before I was pulled away. I didn’t even know you had it until I—“ she cut herself off, looking somber again before clearing her throat. “It’s the tree of knowledge, of balance. But how were you able to find them?”

“I’ve met some people since arriving here. A Romani family that I’ve grown quite close to. One of the brothers specifically, he— he helped me find them.”

Your mother hummed as she listened, her eyes moving again to the space around you. “What year is this exactly?”

“January 1919.” Your mother’s eyes widened. “I’ve been here a few months now.”

“And I thought fifty years was a shock,” she murmured. “Remarkable. Although the interwar period has it’s merits I suppose. Roaring 20s, jazz, rise of automotives, electricity, women’s suffrage. Though suppose it also has it’s negatives: Great Depression, prohibition, facisism, gangsters—“ You must have had a reaction, because your mother paused. “This man, is he a nice man?”

You swallowed at that, your eyes shifting. “I think he wants to be. But the circumstances are a little more complicated.”

“Complicated like organized crime complicated?” She retorted, and you were surprised at her humor in the situation. “Oh sweetheart, you didn’t—“

You scrunched your face, “I didn’t mean to. There’s been odd coincidences between us since even before we met. I had a vision of him the night I woke up here. He had one of me as well. And then there’s the other dreams—“

“What dreams?”

You took a deep breath, feeling once again like you were in a room filled with puzzle pieces trying to figure out which was the right piece to pick up and share with your mother. “I’ve had dreams. Very real feeling dreams of myself as Cassandra in ancient Troy. They’ve just been pieces though, it still feels incomplete.”

“You’ve got a strong connection to her,” your mother mused. “There has to be something in those dreams, that story, that can help you?”

Shifting in your place, she rose her brow at you. A wave of nostalgia hit you as you recalled the look many times from your childhood. She knew you had more.

“The Delphi woman, Madam Despoina, she— she called him Apollo. It’s his face I see in my dreams when I, as Cassandra, am with him, as Apollo. But I— I don’t know what that means.”

Her eyes narrowed as the muscle in her cheek flinched, “And does he mean something to you?”

Her question caused your brow to furrow. “What does that have to do with this?”

“Mother’s intuition, I suppose,” she smiled. “It’s been good to see you, my darling.”

“What do you—“

You blinked.

She was gone.

——-

You woke up the next morning on the cold floor of your apartment, the empty tea cup still laying on the rug.

“Mum!” you exclaimed with a jolt upward, looking to the spot in front of you.

But of course, no one was there. You were as alone in your apartment as you’d been when you arrived last night.

You reached for the tea cup and knew that it didn’t matter. Yesterday you might have tried to argue with yourself that you’d simply been dreaming or hallucinating, but the time for denial was over.

Whatever this stuff had been that Madam Despoina gave you had given you the ability to talk with your mother last night.

As you got ready for your shift at the Garrison, you tried to go through everything your mother had said to you, trying to commit it to memory, afraid that any little bit of it could slip away.

You were going through it for about the twentieth time when a patron cleared his throat at the bar.

“Apologies, I was—“ you turned and your customer service smile fell, “Oh, Benji, hello.”

“I was just coming by to see when you were available next,” he said, offering you his most handsome smile. “No deaths or births or any other excuses this time, eh?”

Your brow lifted, finding that statement slightly rude. It’s not as if you’d blown him off for a headache or something minor — someone had died.

But you knew what you had to do. Benji had been nothing but nice, if not a little forward, with you since you’d meet. It’d been wrong of you to accept his invitation when you were feeling alone and rejected. You couldn’t allow him to continue to believe he had a shot, but there was no reason to be rude about it.

“I’ve been thinking about that, Benji, and I just— I don’t think it’s such a great idea.” His smile slowly began to fall as you talked, his brow creasing. “I shouldn’t have accepted in the first place,” you continued, feeling awkward and guilty.

“Come on, love, you haven’t even given me a chance,” he tried to defend, pulling another smile on his face, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I wasn’t ready to start anything. I’m still— I’m still adjusting and I—“

“Hmm,” Benji shoved his fists in his pocket. “And this wouldn’t have anything to do with the rumors going around of you and Tommy, would it?”

Your mouth opened slightly at the allegation, but you couldn’t form any kind of defense. Instead you crossed your arms, “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Liar,” he hissed, slamming his fist to the bar top. The handful of patrons in the pub looked toward them, curious by the commotion. Benji noticed the eyes and cleared his throat, lowering his voice as he lifted his finger. “You’re making a big mistake, Y/N. Tommy-boy can’t sit on the throne forever, I’ll make sure of that.”

He gave you a wicked smile as he turned and left the pub, slamming the door on his way out.

You contemplated whether you should tell anyone about your interaction with Benji. Unsure if his threats were real or brought on simply by rejection and jealously, you decided to stay quiet for now.

Things had been quiet for a few days afterwards, but slowly you began to notice some major irregularities in the books. Benji’s numbers were showing signs of stealing again. It started off small, similar to what it’d been when you originally became suspicious of him. But now it was quite obvious.

Finally, you came to the conclusion that you had no choice but to bring this to Polly’s attention. It was early in the morning before the shop opened. Polly was helping with John’s kids while Ada was MIA (though if you were a betting woman, you’d say she was with Freddie), and you found yourself sitting alone at the kitchen table, book open in front of you as you felt weirdly conflicted over Benji’s malfeasance.

In the past, you hadn’t been aware of what happened to the people you reported. But now, you knew that there were physical repercussions for stealing from the Shelbys, even as extreme as death. And whether it was guilt for leading him on or some piece of you that still believed that deep down he was a good guy — you began to contemplate whether he deserved a fair warning before you officially reported him. If he knew that he wasn’t as sneaky as he thought he was, that someone was paying attention to him, maybe he’d realize his mistake and end it before something bad happened to him.

You got up to get some tea, trying to think through how exactly you were going to warn him without giving yourself away, when the front door opened.

“How were the kids?” You asked over your shoulder as you poured, assuming Polly had returned.

“Y/N?”

A deeper voice than you expected came from behind you. Spinning around, you were surprised to find the man himself standing in the kitchen doorway.

Your heart rate surged when his eyes moved curiously from you to the table, the open diary and pencil next to it.

“You–” he started, the gears in his head turning to process the scene in front of him. “It’s been you all along.”

“What are you–” you tried to discreetly walk toward the other set of doors, but Benji rounded the table quicker than you, cutting off your escape routes.

What was the saying about good intentions?

“Benji you shouldn’t—“ you tried to lift up your arms between you.

His eyes narrowed and he took a step toward you. Your back hit the counter behind you as he caged you in. “It’s you isn’t it? I kept trying to figure out how it was Lenny and Jackson got stitched. And there you were all along — the little mouse hiding in plain sight.”

“Get off me!” You shouted as you tried to push him away, but he grabbed your arms. You tried to use some of the self defense moves you’d learned, but Benji was stronger than you’d anticipated, and much more sober than the last man you had to fight off of you in the pub. He spun you around and pinned your arms behind your back, pressing his weight onto you so you were pinned even tighter against the shelves and counter. You tried to kick, but he had your legs locked between his.

You were completely defenseless.

“You think you can fuck with me—“

“I wasn’t— I haven’t said anything–,” you gasped out, your face against the shelves as you tried to catch your breath while still struggling to get him off you. You felt the tears begin to fall down your face as you felt helpless.

“And you fucking won’t! You killed my mates. I’m gonna make you wish you’d never met Tommy—“

“Oi!”

Polly’s voice shouting from the doorway finally caused Benji to release you. At the slightly feel of freedom, you pushed him off and ran for the other other end of the kitchen. You grabbed a near empty bottle near you and threw it at him. He ducked as it broke against the wall behind him.

“Out!” Polly shouted, grabbing his arm and pushing him out the door. “And don’t you dare come back!”

Benji was shouting as well, raving that he was a Peaky Blinder dammit, and no one could stop him from getting what he wanted.

He looked back at you as he said that and you shivered.

Sure, you were shaken by being manhandled like that by someone you thought was a good enough man. But more than that, you were angry. This had been the second time since you’d been here that a man thought he could toss you around like you were some kind of doll.

Polly turned back toward you, and immediately got busy pouring you a cup of tea. She let you take your time as you finally launched into explanation. At the end, she calmly rose from her seat and found Scudboat in the betting den, who’d shown up at some point in all your distraction. You watched as she whispered in his ear and then calmly again walked back toward the kitchen. She reached into a drawer and pulled out a small handgun.

“You know how to use this?”

Nodding, she handed it to you and told you to keep it on you from now on.

“Go back to work, Y/N. Benji won’t be bothering you again.”

——-

Polly had been right. Another week went by and you hadn’t seen or heard a peep from Benji. Part of you wondered if the bastard was dead, and you weren’t sure how exactly you felt when you realized that you didn’t really care.

You also wondered if Tommy knew now about what happened with Benji. You hadn’t heard from him since he left again, but knew from Polly and Ada that they’d be back by the following weekend.

In all the excitement, you’d forgotten about Tommy’s invitation to the races. When Ada burst into your apartment to announce that they were going shopping, you’d been surprised. It’d been a while since you’d been to the shops, but you weren’t going to deny the opportunity to find something nice to wear to your first race.

“I’ve been crying nonstop for weeks,” Ada explained as you both walked around, looking at different fabrics as she pointed out some options. “Every little thing sets me off, I tell ya. I thought it was because of the funeral, but Martha and I weren’t really that close. Suppose it’s sympathy for the kids. Dunno. It’s been making me so tired though. I think I may be ill or something.”

“Maybe,” you mused, grabbing the dress she handed you.

A woman caught the corner of your eye. At your gaze, she dropped her head and turned.

You ignored her, used to people staring when she was out with Ada. You hadn’t understood it when you’d first become friends, but now you realized.

When you saw her again at the next shop, you began to feel less like it was accidental.

“Hi,” you greeted when you met her eyes again. She looked away and tried to leave, but you spoke again, “Can I help you?”

The woman stopped finally and turned, her head down slightly sheepishly. She wore a small hat and trendy dress, her hair was cut short like most women of the day, and you could tell she was quite tall, though she seemed to slouch slightly. Her facial features were sharp, complimenting her slim body shape. She was quite beautiful, and in your day could see her being the ideal supermodel. But the bags under her eyes and wornness of her skin led you to believe that her story probably wasn’t that simple. Not here, in Small Heath.

“Pardon?” She finally said innocently, trying to subtly give you a once over as well.

You shrugged, “It just seemed like you were needing something from me. My mistake.”

You turned to leave but she spoke again. “This is incredibly improper of me, but I saw you and I just— you and Tommy, ya?”

As you turned back to her, your brow creased. Instinct had you looking around for Ada. Ever since your encounter with Benji, you’d been edgier than you’d ever been, always looking for the exits and for familiar faces to run toward. It made you feel incredibly vulnerable and you absolutely hated it. You felt your fingers grip the strings of your handbag, knowing the gun Polly had given you was safely tucked away inside.

Swallowing, you resounded yourself to shake it off, to toughen up, and you straightened your shoulders as you addressed the stranger once again. “Excuse me?”

“My sister saw you both walking home often late at night. I suppose he’s moved on, I shouldn’t be surprised.” She was rambling now, her cheeks blushed as if she were embarrassed by her own words. “I know we shouldn’t be speaking of this, not in public at least. It’s just hard, y’know, losing a customer. Especially one like him.”

Customer. You looked over the stranger in front of you again and tried to think of any other instance where her phrasing would make sense aside from the very clear one that came to mind.

Ada called for you, reaching you with a handful of dresses. You turned back to the woman who nodded and made her leave.

“Ada, who was that?”

She craned her neck and clicked her teeth. “Ah, that was Lizzie Stark. Surprised you haven’t seen her around town. Though why would you, less you were payin’ I suppose. Here, try these on.”

——-

It’d been a while since you’d been on a real date. Even before you’d been sent to this place, dates had started to dwindle as you got older and got more choosy. For a while, starting in college, you’d easily been able to flirt with someone new, get to know them, and then start a fling for a while until one or both of you got bored. The couple serious relationships you’d had were harder for you. Being vulnerable hadn’t come easy for you, and it created commitment and trust issues. Dates became more complicated than they were worth.

Tommy had greeted you at your place, and you surprised yourself with how much you missed him in the few weeks he’d been away. There was something about his presence, knowing that he was here, in the city, gave you a wave of some kind of safety and security that you hadn’t realized you’d been missing.

He looked tired, though he smiled at you warmly as he walked you toward the family car, and offered you a hand in as you climbed in.

This had been the first time you’d actually been excited for a date since possibly high school.

And of course, Harry had to go and buzz kill your mood the day before the races. He hadn’t meant to, of course. After the Benji incident, he’d been extra protective and cautious. You’d explained the situation (without the stealing money from the Shelbys part) and he’d been surprisingly sensitive. But he believed his recent pub decision would make you feel better instead of make you sour.

“Somethin’ the matter?” He asked when you were quieter than he expected. “If this is about Hancock—“

“No,” you answered, already knowing from Polly that Tommy and the brothers had learned of Benji’s malfeasance, but he’d disappeared before Scudboat and Lovelock could find him. You’d cursed your previous self for trying to be sympathetic toward the man — it seemed like you’d just made everything worse. “It’s nothing honestly, just something silly.”

“Go on, then. I can handle silly.”

Your cheek flinched as you looked over toward Tommy, humored by him even saying the word ‘silly’. He rose his eye brow as he looked over to you, offering you a smirk before pulling his eyes back to the road.

“Harry’s putting in an advertisement in the paper for another barmaid.”

Tommy’s smirk turned into a frown, “Is he mad? The place wouldn’t be standin’ without you — I’ve seen the numbers, I know. I’ll have a word with Harry—“

“He’s not replacing me,” you quickly corrected. “I thought the same thing, but he wants me to concentrate more on the books and said he’d rather bring someone in part time to fill in behind the bar.”

“Ah,” his brow creased as he gave you a short look. “The problem, then?”

You sighed, knowing that you were being childish. “I’m just feeling territorial, is all. I know I’m not technically being replaced, but part of it feels that way. Did I mention I have a small case of control issues? I blame it on being an only child.”

Tommy chuckled softly and shook his head. “You have nothing to worry about. If anything it’ll leave more time for you to do your real job.”

“My real job?” You asked him curiously.

“The Shelby business, ‘course. Wheels are already in motion, and today we’re going to enact the second part of my plan.”

“And that is?”

Tommy smiled, “Gonna buy a horse.”

>> next chapter << chapter masterlist

Tag list: @cillixn @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @cillmequick @swordofawriter @sweetmilkshakeluminary @nataliewalker93 @ttae-yong @topstory21 @cole-silas @moral-terpitude @optimisticsandwichgladiator @reallysparklychaos @enrapturedbythemoon @bat-shark-repellant @kpopslur @skxawngs @musicsweetie21 @invisiblexcth @whoisf4yryl0v3r @laylasbunbunny @lordofthunderthr @luvstylesz @roseanimelover @lostgirl219 @berarenado @akemiixx01 @mulletmcghee @jasminxts @oneboygenius @piceous21 @xoprincessmel @the-blueatlas @regatoni1 @goblinjnr @gentyleman @xxbeckybeexx-blog @tanyaherondale @sometimes-i-sing @littlewhiterose @ja-4-leyvam @rubyxx16 @allie131313 @pet1t3 @globetrotter28 @woofgocows @radrouda @wildernessflora @jeysbae @lilianashomaresparza @himikotoga101 @a-asterias @sourholland @samywhale @thecityofspareparts @ponyboys-sunsets @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @vastseamind @optimisticsandwichgladiator @booktvmoviefangirl @drquinnzel0217qqqqqqqqqqq @zodiyack @ofkilljoysandslytherins @bluevenus19 @ce1iat @mgajdaaa @babyotileeblog @arcanebabe @iamtrashsry @snowtargaryen @mottergirl99 @sinarainbows @belledawnidk @laneyspaulding19 @warrior-of-justice @kkrenae @ryswritingrecord @qtkat @monifaagha @avidread3r

#Peaky blinders #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #Tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby x ofc #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby imagines #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagines #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x oc #fanfic #mine #time after time

227 notes · View notes

blakbonnet · 4 months ago

Text

[graphic by @ofmdlovelyletters]

AUTHOR OF THE WEEK @xoxoemynn

I've loved featuring some of the most incredible artists in the fandom for the AOTWs, and thanks to Connie's (@spirker) big brain, this week is dedicated to some of the most beloved fandom authors. I hope everyone will go and check out their fics, maybe discover some new works or give extra love to older beloved fics. There will be 3 authors featured this weekend, please give it up 🥁 for the first one: Emy who we all love.

When I think of an author whose writing feels like a warm, lovingly prepared bowl of soup by someone who wants you to eat and eat well: I think of Em's fics. It's impossible to imagine this fandom without her - not just her words but everything she is and does for her friends. I also strongarmed her into answering a few questions for me (kidding, she was very gracious, I kept harassing her to send the answers over 😌 I have no shame):

What's your writing process like? Do you start with the beginning or the end? Do you write in order or as the scenes come to you?

First comes the idea, which usually presents itself as “haha, wouldn’t it be funny/weird/wild if XYZ… wait a minute. I think I might be serious about that.” Once I’m pretty confident I’m actually going to write the story, I make a channel for it in the private Discord I created to keep myself organized. I’ll start jotting ideas down — doesn’t have to be in any particular order, just tone, beats I want to hit, any particular detail that’s pushing its way to the surface that’s demanding the story be told, and also grab any links, images, music, whatever, and stash them away for inspo later. I almost always have to create an outline for myself, even if it’s just a few bullet points, because otherwise I tend to just sit there spinning my wheels. If it’s a longer story, I’ll create a pretty fleshed out outline, and may also supplement it with an emotions matrix to keep track of the characters’ evolving mindset throughout the story. Tragically, I’m very much someone who needs to write in order. I’ve tried skipping around before, but inevitably I start feeling the tension of “well, how can I possibly write Scene 10 if I don’t know exactly what happened in Scene 5?” But if there are some scenes that feel more vivid to me in the brainstorming phase, I may write a few sentences just so I don’t lose that energy.

One Ed/Stede headcanon that's very dear to you and you love to explore it when you write.

I don’t know if I have one specific one. I generally treat them as my all you can eat buffet and like to play with different ones all the time, depending on my mood. But I’d say my “tell,” if you will, is taking some kind of ridiculous concept (being horny for clocks, running a sleepaway camp for singles, tooth fairies) and sussing out the Big Emotions, which often do circle around learning to be vulnerable in front of the one you love.

Whose voice is easier to write - Ed or Stede? Why?

When I first started writing OFMD fic after S1, I would have said Ed. There was something about that vulnerability and raw heartbreak that I found really accessible, perhaps because I was finally coming out of the fog of my own recent traumatic breakup. But as I spent more time writing and in the characters’ heads, I realized it’s actually Stede. I see a lot of myself in him, and have discovered getting his voice right is a rather cyclical process: the more I understand him, the more I understand myself, and the more I understand myself, the more I understand him.

Your personal favourite thing you've written that you'd like more people to read

I’m going to cheat and list two. The first is The Merry Strays of Lighthouse Sanctuary, which is my heart story. It’s not the first thing I wrote for this fandom, but it feels like it. I wanted to write a fic with a setting that felt to all the characters the way so many of us felt about the show itself — a place of hope, where everyone is loved and accepted and celebrated for exactly who they are. The second, which is definitely a harder sell due to the subject matter, is All Of These Lines Across My Face, which is the most personal thing I’ve ever written that I think has taken on a new, more meta meaning since the cancellation. Love is eternal; it changes everything it touches for the better. Ed and Stede’s world was forever changed because they loved each other; our world was forever changed because we loved OFMD.

What is the one word that you think you use a lot?

Exquisite. But it’s NOT MY FAULT. They ARE exquisite!!! What am I supposed to do, just call them pretty? They are EXQUISITE!

Do you have a beta reader? Have they made you a better writer?

YES! My beloved Hugo (@monksofthescrew/offsammich), who I’ve been working with since Merry Strays. I used to say I’d only use a beta if there was something I was particularly worried about in the story, but honestly Hugo makes everything I write SO much better that I don’t consider a story complete until her eyes are on it. Brainstorming the initial idea, helping me get unstuck in writing, pushing me to look at a scene from a different perspective, fixing all my verb tenses… truly could not do it without her.

Why OFMD?🥹

I found OFMD at a very transitional point in my life, when I finally started to feel healed from a few big traumatic events but didn’t know what to do now that I’d emerged from the fog. I experienced some panic that I had wasted too much time and the world had moved on without me while I was still struggling. OFMD showed me that it’s never too late, that you can always have a second (or third, or 300th) chance, that you deserve to be loved for exactly who you are, and, most importantly, that there’s always hope. It was like someone gently took my hand and said “I don’t care what your brain/society is telling you, there is a beautiful future in store for you, and you deserve all that it brings you.” These days it’s rare to find something with a message like that, that’s equal parts fierce and earnest. It’s something beautiful and precious, and I’ll be holding onto it forever. ❤️

Please head over to @ofmdlovelyletters and send your love for Emy and all your favourite authors (and authors of the week 😈 watch that blog for some special letters coming your way)

#artist of the week #writing #aotw #ofmd #our flag means death #author of the week

65 notes · View notes

redclercs · 2 years ago

Text

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

INTRO: who's y/n anyway? ew.

— the one where everyone tells you who are.

warnings: ignore the timestamps please, online harassment.

masterlist ✢ next

Soft jazz is playing in the living room of y/n y/ln's apartment in SoHo, with all the curtains pulled back the golden hour feels like a golden infinity. We're already in our second cup of coffee, a specialty brought from Veracruz, Mexico by y/n herself.

This is not our first meeting, y/n and I go back a few years, when the box-office hit 'Supercut' sent her straight into stardom and earned her a place in the public's heart. Since then, there has been no other way but up for the young star.

From humble beginnings and a list of failed castings, roles as an extra and endless photoshoots with stock images, y/n knows what it's like to work hard to achieve what you want.

"Sometimes, when I look back at my struggles I wonder what made the universe align in my favor. Hard work only gets you so far, I am incredibly lucky too." She says, eyeing the framed picture of the wrap-up day of her very first movie 'Loneliness', where she played the daughter of a struggling waitress.

"I was in about six scenes, but I couldn't have been more thrilled. It was the first time I felt like a real actress."

Of course, there are other aspects of her life where y/n is extremely fortunate. It has been two years since she started dating Asian-American hearthrob Aidan Kim. Looks like 'Supercut' really was her luckiest strike.

"We do like to keep some things to ourselves," y/n laughs after I ask her for an update on her relationship, I want to know the details behind the lovestagrams we get on a regular basis. "We love and respect each other deeply."

Night has fallen in SoHo and while y/n shuts the curtains, I take my surroundings in once again. A loveseat with a stain on the cushion, a coffee table that Aidan brought from a trip to Nepal where he filmed his newest project, framed pictures of the couple and their families crowd the room. This is the home they have built for themselves.

Some may argue that y/n's specialty are romantic comedies where she gets to play the doe-eyed love interest to the dark and handsome male protagonist, but y/n has her sights set on bigger things. An Oscar nomination, maybe?

"I have fun with the movies I make, but I do want to expand my horizons. I have so many ideas I want to try, I just need a shot to prove myself." She beams with hope, in an ideal world, type-casting wouldn't be a thing.

Speaking of tall, dark and handsome, just as we're about to wrap things up, the door to the apartment opens and Aidan Kim himself comes through bearing a bouquet of roses and bag of take out. A sheepish grin bursts through his face as he realizes the interruption, and does his best attempt to disappear, not before giving a proud thumbs up to his girlfriend. This peek into their private life is enough to see how much they love each other.

"Thank you so much for coming," y/n has been an excellent host this evening, and I am happy to leave her to attend to her love nest. "It was a pleasure."

TWITTER SEARCH: y/n

Y/N’s SOCIALS

Liked by aidankim1, vicpresley, calumhood and others.

View comments

ynstars pretty! hope you had fun babes

effmeaidan you’re only famous thanks to aid

cestbren please tell me you’re really going to be on euphoria

dropbeastsss she’s so fake idk why people like her

dropbeastsss I’m not even aidan’s fan btw

Liked by aidankim1, jessiegrey, vicpresley and others.

View comments

softforyn mY PARENTS

aid4nshoe you followed him to Paris? God let him breathe

loladell my friend saw her today and she refused to take a pic lmao💀

ynflowers can’t wait for you two to get married🥺

↺ FROM ❛FLIXFANS ❜PODCAST MARCH 2022

Chelsea Gonzalez: I just- I feel like y/n is so lazy at this point. Girl you have been doing romcoms for years read a different script.

Gabriel Irwin: [laughs] I don’t think she even reads them anymore. It’s the same role every time that’s just the way she acts on a normal basis now.

Brianna Martin: that’s so mean! Honestly I just feel like she needs to switch agents, there were rumors about that marvel movie and then nothing happened?

↺ FROM YOUTUBE INTERVIEW WITH Y/N IN ❛ONLYFLIX❜ CHANNEL SEPTEMBER 2022

Y/n: I just love being on set, I have so much fun getting to be somebody else and it really feels like I’m in another world.

Ryan Campbell: But your movies aren’t too distanced from your real life situation are they? You have your own movie-like love story with none other than Aidan Kim!

y/n: Oh, uh… yeah I mean, one is fiction and another one isn’t? [laughs] real life relationships are definitely not like the movies.

Ryan Campbell: But how does it feel knowing everyone wishes they were you? I know I do!

y/n: [laughs] I really think we should go back to the movie talk!

↺ FROM ❛IT TALK❜ PODCAST NOVEMBER 2022

Riley Green: [cont.] I mean I loved her look on the red carpet, her stylist LOVES her.

Martha Vincent: y/n is a gorgeous woman, I think that’s why she’s so loved by the public.

Greg Zane: She’s certainly a rising It girl, I just wish we saw her more rather than her fiancé? Boyfriend?

Riley Green: Oh take that back Greg, I’m not about to get cancelled for your shade towards Aidan Kim.

─── team principal radio: ❝ this is my first fic for a f1 driver! exciting! i hope you enjoy this series as much as i'm enjoying creating it. i would love to know your thoughts through comments/reblogs!♡❞

#charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 imagines #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fluff #f1 angst

732 notes · View notes

captain039 · 1 year ago

Text

PART 4 Intertwined with a mortal

Ascended Vampire Duke!Astarion x human!reader

Slight alpha Duke!Wyll x reader

Bridgerton x Astarion 👍🏻

Warnings: Olden times, swearing, age gap, tension, slow burn, vampire Mates, vampire things, angst, sexual, harassment, bigger reader, fat shaming, 18+, angst, Astarions trauma, anxiety, depression, learning to touch and love, big dislike for children lmao, AOB, artist reader, manipulation, jealousy

Previous part <-

I love Wyll so much he’s so precious and when I rejected him I cried 😭 I need some Wyll storys.

This feeling was horrible. You stayed in bed even when the servants tried to wake you up, you barely left your room and the thought of the social season festive was out the window along with your so called ‘will’ to find a husband. The next party wasn’t for another week thankfully, in all honesty you didn’t know if you even wanted to continue this season. Your routine lie in was interrupted, by your mother urging you to get dressed promptly and forcing you down stairs. You groaned at her and huffed before you saw a guest in your living room. Duke Ravengard stood there a smile on his face some flowers in his hand.

“Duke Ravengard” you said surprised putting on your ‘lady’ act again.

“Morning Milady, I fear we never got to speak” he said as your mum took the flowers and ushered you both to sit. You sat down staring at your hands in your lap as the duke sat by you. You tried not to breathe, tried not to look him in the eyes.

“If I’ve made you uncomfortable I can leave-“ he said worried and you froze snapping your head up.

“No, no gods no, I’m so sorry-“ you sighed remembering to breathe.

“Not exactly very lady like currently” you cursed yourself silently, an alpha duke! had come to see you, why were you feeling so down?

“You don’t have act lady like at all” he chuckled and you looked to him, he held a kind smile and kind eyes.

“You’re very sweet” you smiled.

“I’m afraid this season is starting out terrible” you sighed feeling at ease with him despite the guilt you held.

“Gaining the attention of Duke Ancunin is definitely going to set things into motion, bad or good” he said and you nodded, he had no idea.

“Well I can assure you that duke Ancunin is merely toying, I don’t know why, some cruel game maybe” you gulped slightly fiddling with your fingers. Before your mother called you out on it and you jumped.

“I’m not myself my Duke, perhaps you’d like to come back?” You said.

“If that’s what you wish” he nodded and you felt your heart drop at the sadness in his features.

“Please stay Duke Ravengard” your mother piped up before your father huffed at her.

“I’ll come by tomorrow I promise, see how you’re faring then” he stood as did you and you felt like someone punched you, but you also felt relief. The duke looked to you and grabbed your hand softly, pressing a gently kiss to the back of it before he smiled and left. You stood flushed before going to your room quickly so you didn’t have to speak to your parents. Jen came by later, she surprised you in your room while you were sketching aimlessly in your book.

“Goodness, where’s the light in here?” She said opening your curtains while you groaned at her.

“Selune guide me, what on earth has happened to you?” She said sitting down on your bed as you lazed.

“I’m feeling” you said and she tsked.

“Feeling too much apparently come over here” she demanded and you whined, but listened to the alpha as she shuffled back and laid against your pillows beckoning you to her lap. You laid your head down in her lap and stared at the ceiling as she detangled your hand.

“Now, what ever is the matter?” She asked and you hesitated.

“It’s Duke Ancunin isn’t it?” She said and you nodded making her sigh.

“I don’t know what his game is, you need to ignore him, he’s no good” she said and you sagged more.

“I hated dancing with anyone else, I long for him, I barley know him! When we dance it feels easy like where destined or something” you rambled.

“Duke Ravengard came by today and I was disappointed” you sad clenching your jaw lightly.

“Because it wasn’t Duke Ancunin?” Jen asked and you nodded.

“He’s such a sweet alpha, perfect, high stats, kind soul” you sighed.

“But he’s not Duke Ancunin” Jen finished and you groaned.

“I run off from him, I tell myself not to like him, he’s bad news” you sighed.

“He- he kissed me” you mumbled and she gasped.

“Please gods don’t tell anyone!” You said sitting up and begging.

“I ran to the garden last party I needed air and space, he followed me, told me things then kissed me, I pushed him away though I swear!” You felt tears down your cheeks as Jen brought you back to her embrace and hushed you.

“I don’t even know the man and he’s ruining my life” you cried. You both stayed silent for awhile, before you lifted yourself off the alpha.

“Duke Ravengards coming by tomorrow” you said.

“I’ll be presentable, a prefect lady and potential mate” you said numbly and Jen sighed sadly.

True to his word the duke returned, more flowers in hand representing new passion and friendship. You put on an act, gave your best smiles and laughs as you talked, all the while a burning rock sat in your stomach. The duke came over once a day, the more you got to know the more it hurt. You were out and about in his carriage just the two of you with the carriage men.

“Are you alright?” The duke asked and you smiled nodding eyes looking out the window.

“I don’t mean this rudely lady Y/n, but I feel as if this is an act” he said and you looked to him confused, but feeling guilt and concern in your gut.

“When I first visited you, you were yourself, you’re a very feeling person, not afraid of her emotions on display, has your parents said something to you? To make you act this way? As I said I do not mind the real you, it shows character” he spoke sweetly and honestly and you wanted to cry.

“I’m sorry” you said biting the inside of your cheek and looking away as you furiously blinked your tears away.

“Gods don’t be sorry, just tell me what’s happening” he held your hand in comfort.

“If I was myself I’d never find a husband” you scoffed lightly wiping your eyes with your tissue from your satchel.

“Says who?” He asked.

“Says society!” You sighed.

“I’m am distort and the last party’s I-“ you struggled with words.

“Duke Ancunin” he said sitting back slightly as more tears spilled, you’ve ruined this.

“Wyll you’re lovely, amazing, anything a mate could ask for” you let go of his hand, wanting to force yourself away.

“I don’t understand any of this” you said cursing yourself softly.

“Now I’m cursing in front of a duke” you kicked yourself mentally as you wiped your eyes.

“Perhaps what you need isn’t a mate, you’ve already found him” the dukes smile was hurt, but comforting.

“Perhaps you need a friend” he said holding out his hand for you again. Making you stare at him, he smiled at you, he wasn’t upset or angry, he just held compassion.

“I have two younger half sisters from my step mother, lady’s in our society are so shaded on love and what feelings go through it, what really happens during the social seasons, it baffles me, it leads to this, too many emotions to understand, ruining a lady’s day and night because she doesn’t know what to do” as he spoke you just stared at him, you swore you felt your heart jump and warmth filled you, not the same with Duke Ancunin, but a familiar warmth of family comfort.

“What?” He chuckled lightly.

“Where have you been?” You asked and he laughed giving your hand a squeeze.

“I’m sorry i didn’t come sooner” he said kissing your hand again with a smile.

Wyll told you things, things you were feeling and what they meant and you told him about what you were feeling when you were with Duke Ancunin how torn you were, what you spoke of in your brief moments, excluding the kiss. Wyll told you of what he knew of Duke Ancunin, a wealthy man with a good eye for exotic trade which is how he kept his wealth. Duke Ancunin was secretive though and like yourself Wyll noticed his perfectness to be too perfect, he sensed it was perhaps hidden meaning, covering up a bad past or issues he had and wouldn’t face properly, just kept up and act. The duke Ancunin was known for being well a rake, having taken many lovers, but none ever stayed, but what surprised you was that Wyll had never seen the duke dance like he had with you. Like there was something different about you to him. Stranger things too is that he never seemed to age, he’d go years without appearance and not change, perhaps it was his elven nature, but Wyll had his suspicions. There was more to the duke than his practiced smile and coldness.

Next part ->

#astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #wyll ravengard #Karlach #Shadowheart #x reader #aob #Bridgerton inspired #au

127 notes · View notes

deathofpeaceofmiiind · 10 months ago

Text

high infidelity | twenty nine

I think I've seen this film before and I didn't like the ending, I'm not your problem anymore…so who am I offending now?

*Ellie's POV* I closed the door to my Uber and just sighed heavily. The past hour felt like I blacked out, not remembering anything I said to him, and how I actually left him with no hesitation. I never thought in a million years I’d leave Noah, especially this quickly. When I took a final look at him before leaving, he was outside leaning against his balcony, his dark eyes met mine tear filled. Part of me felt guilty but, he just stood there, not bothering to fight me to stay. My Uber started to drive away and I didn’t even take another look back, I simply wiped the single tear that fell from my eye as I grabbed my phone.

“Hey.” I sniffed. “What time are you gonna be the airport?”

“I’m just going now.” Hearing Matt’s voice on the other end was comforting, “is everything okay?”

“No.” I stopped, feeling myself wanting to cry, as if reality set in with what I did. “I’ll talk to you when I get to the airport.” I hung up and put my headphones on, closing my eyes. All I wanted was to hear Noah’s voice again. I hit shuffle and Just Pretend came on first, making my heart split as I remembered how he dedicated it to me the first time he lost me. It seems like a lifetime ago, but it was only two weeks to the day. When I was with Noah, it really felt like time stopped completely, nothing else and nobody else mattered. I feel like I’ll be searching for the trait in everyone I meet, knowing I’ll never find it again. God, what have I done? “Ellie!”

I turned my head and saw Matt walking towards me with Folio. I smiled at them but I couldn’t hold it in my tears anymore, seeing them reminded me of Noah. I crashed right into Matt’s chest and I started crying. Both of them were confused, I’m assuming Noah hasn’t said anything to anyone yet. Not that I care if he does. Folio rubbed my back as Matt held me tightly as a few more tears escaped me. I finally came up for air and looked at them both, rubbing my tear soaked cheeks, both of them still staring at me for an answer. “I broke up with Noah.” “El…seriously? What happened?” “I don’t know. I just couldn’t handle how he was more worried about his internet presence than the fact I was getting bullied and harassed by his fans.” The anger was back, I couldn’t stand this back and forth how I was feeling right now. “So I told him he didn’t deserve me if he didn’t like the fact that I stick up for myself.” “And you can definitely stick up for yourself, you really clocked that chick.” Matt started to chuckle but Folio elbowed him right in the rib to shut him up. I just rolled my eyes, “Matthew…” “Sorry.” He replied, putting his hand up. “What do you want to do?” “Nothing right now. I just want to get home and see my son. Maybe I’ll talk to him when this settles down.” “This stuff usually blows over fast. Some fan will do something moronic tomorrow and they’ll forget about you.” Folio added, sending me a reassuring smile. “We’ve got your back either way.” “Thanks guys. I’ll miss you.” They pulled me into a group hug before we all headed off in our direction. I had to go to another part of the airport since I was flying back to Canada, which of course Matt made some smartass remark about Canada not being a real country. My heart sunk when I turned around and couldn’t see them anymore. I don’t even know if we’ll ever be in the same room again.

*Noah’s POV* “So she just left?” I looked across the kitchen at Nick, who was sitting at my kitchen island. His face looked so puzzled with what just unfolded in front of him. Jolly leaned against the wall, arms crossed trying to process the news as well. Ellie just walked out and gave up on everything we worked hard for over these past few weeks. She never heard me out, she just thought about herself and that was it.

“Yeah. She was upset with me that I was more worried about what was online than being supportive of her.” “Supportive of what?” Nick replied, raising his eyebrow. “She punched someone.” “They called her terrible names, Nicholas.” Jolly piped in. “Matt told me all the things those girls were saying. They had it coming honestly. They’re lucky it wasn’t one of us that did it.” “Matt.” I scoffed, pouring myself a glass of Hennessy, “if it wasn’t for him, I don’t think we’d be in this mess.” “Seriously, is something going on between those two? They were inseparable last night.” “No idea, but he can have her if he wants her now.” I sighed, taking a long swig of my drink before pouring more into my glass. “You guys have it all wrong.” Jolly huffed as he grabbed his phone and keys and walked towards the door, I could tell he had enough. “Noah, you fucked up. Ellie was a headstrong, beautiful women and you just let her walk out the door. She’s probably one of the few women who would stick around despite all the shit we deal with because she can handle it. But if you want to make her look bad, go ahead, but I’m not staying around for your pity party.” “Go fuck yourself man, and get the fuck out of my house!” “I was already fucking leaving.” He replied, slamming the door shut. Fuck I hated it when he was right, but making Ellie the villain seemed like the best way to make myself feel better. Cursing under my breath I took another sip of my drink, glancing at Nick who looked like his parents told him they were getting a divorce.

“Do you wanna change your flight and stay here another day? We should go out tonight.” Nick rolled his eyes as he took his phone out, assuming he was changing his flight, “I’ll only stay because I don’t trust you going out unsupervised right now.” “Alright, I’ll call some people up.”

I went to grab my phone, as I put my hand into my pocket, my fingers were met with a black velvet box. I took it out and threw it on the counter. I guess I don’t need this anymore.

#bad omens #noah sebastian #fanfic

13 notes · View notes

bratshaws · 2 years ago

Text

through the hourglass 25. brb x oc

a/n:

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: NO ROOSTER BUT HEHEHEHEHEH, brief mentions of nausea and vomit but nothing graphic

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @j-6o @louisahale @leobabbyyy @kulicny @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @dhwanishah09

Jolene was peacefully sleeping on top of Evelyn’s thigh, the woman gently caressing her huge head in repetitive motions as Shells set up the pen drive onto Beas laptop so they could all see the footage. Her aunt didn’t ask about it, in fact she didn’t even notice it when Shells yanked the tiny black pen drive off the computer in the back, since it was something that the blonde did every end of the week.

So now, after setting the bluetooth on both the TV and the laptop, they were going after the time Shells saw ‘Eric’. There was a lot of footage to go through and Beatrice watched with her thumb nail inside her mouth, chewing it anxiously and feeling her stomach flip with nerves the more she saw the images run through the screen. What if it was Eric? He wouldn’t try anything with her anymore right? Why would he? She made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him, she did break his nose.

What if he still couldn’t comprehend she moved on? But again why would be want her back? If that was the case that is, why would he come after her with that thought?

…she was getting paranoid again and it wasn’t helping the situation at all, she even sunk deeper into the couch as she kept her eyes on the recordings.

They saw a lot of things: a family of raccoons trotting by, one of the guys that Penny threw out earlier that night because he was harassing some of the ladies in the bar and a couple having an argument at the parking lot.

As it neared the time for ‘Eric’ to show up, Shells slowed the recording until someone appeared on the screen. Beatrice stops chewing her thumb, her focus shot to the figure of a man with blonde hair and quite a large forehead - much like Eric’s - but he was taller than Eric was. He looked around a bit, then leaned his body forward then back and then walked away.

“Huh.” Shells says, chewing her slice of pizza, “Guess it’s not Eric after all.”

Beatrice’s sigh of relief was loud and almost punched out of her, making her fall back on the couch with her arm over her eyes. It wasn’t him, thank God. Her stomach was still twisting, she no longer felt like having the rest of her slice, “I’ll make myself some tea.” she comments, pushing herself to her feet and walking to the kitchen, rubbing her face. She keeps her hands on her cheeks, breathing in and out slowly as her two friends remain in the living room.

She was trying her best to calm her heart down, her stomach was already a lost cause because it felt like it was a looping roller coaster that refused to stop. Maybe she shouldn’t have eaten something as greasy as a pizza so late at night, really, maybe she should’ve just kept it simple with a sandwich at best, “It’s fine.” she tells herself, inhaling and hoping that the nausea passes “I’ll be fine,I just need tea.”

“Bea?” she hears Evelyn calls,”You okay in there?”

“Yeah! Yeah,I’m fine, I’m making myself some tea.”

There’s whispering from the living room, then she hears the sound of bare feet making their way over to her kitchen with the clicking of claws against the floor just behind. She turns her head to see Evelyn - whose orange hair is a bit faded now, exposing the black tresses underneath - with her hands on her hips, “You sure?”

“Yeah,I’m fine.” she says, “Just…triggered my anxiety a bit, so I’m making some tea to calm down, is all.” Beatrice is just relieved that the person is a random guy who probably wanted to check the crowd and when seeing how full the bar was turned on his heel and left, “Nothing more than that.”

Evelyn hums, crossing her arms below her bust as she leans her hip against the kitchen counter, looking back at the living room where Shells is, “Shells mentioned you were feeling sick earlier this week.” she begins, “Stomach bug?”

Beatrice nods, “Yeah, and anxiety I guess, Roos isn’t here and I, even though I try not to, worry about him a lot.” the brunette shrugs with a smile, “But it’s gotten better, it’s just the nausea and the flipping of my stomach, but I’m fine! The tea helps too and I’ll be brand new for tomorrow’s hiking!”

And she hoped to keep the conversation that way now, refusing to talk about Eric again. No more Eric, no more Eric.

“Well,I’m glad, it’s been so long. I gave some of my old hiking stuff for Shells because you know she has nothing.” an indignant HEY came from the living room and the blonde’s annoyed face appeared on the corner of the threshold, narrowing her eyes, “We won’t hike too much so maybe some water and a few trail mix bars will be good. For safety.”

Beatrice nods while she pours herself some tea, watching the steam curl in the air and her stomach once again turn with either nerves or the greasy slice of pizza she ate, she no longer knew. But now she had to wait until her tea was at least room temperature to drink it.As she thoughts about it, a smile appeared on her face while the tea cooled down: ever since the game last year, Rooster always took it on himself to blow her tea down so it was cool enough, sometimes even taking a sip to make sure it wouldn’t burn her tongue.

He sent her a message earlier that day saying he wouldn’t be able to get to his phone in a few days but she shouldn’t worry because he’d come back soon…and yet here she was, worrying. That could explain a lot too, the amount of anxiety and worry was definitely making her feel a bit sick, that stomach bug as stubborn as a mule and always sneaking in before she could notice it.

“Bea?” Evelyn’s voice brings her back to reality, making the brunette jump and turn her eyes from the mug to her friend, “You okay? You got all blank eyed on me.”

“Oh. Oh uh, sorry,” she says with a small smile, “Just thinking a bit, I swear I’m fine.”

“Thinking about Rooster?”

Beatrice laughs again, weaker this time, dropping her head forward, “When aren’t I thinking about him, you know?” she rubs her wedding ring as she says it, looking out of the window to the night sky, “He got me good, Ev.”

Evelyn smiles fondly, “I think it was pretty much mutual. Come on, let’s get back to the living room before Shells wonders why we are taking so long.”

The brunette follows Evelyn out of the kitchen, Jolene right behind Beatrice with her mouth open and tongue bouncing at every step she took back towards the living room. Shells had unplugged the pen drive from Bea’s laptop and turned it off and was now currently checking movies they could watch during their sleepover. She doesn’t turn around when she hears the other two coming back, holding up the remote and leaning her elbow on the coffee table, “Hey you two, good talk?”

“Bea was just making some tea,” that makes Shells turn her head to the brunette, who returned to her stop on the couch, blowing her mug, “Nothing more.”

“You okay over there?” Shells questions, giving her friend a cautious once over as if she could see whatever was going on inside her body ,”That stomach bug again?”

“I think it’s just my anxiety.” Beatrice shrugs, giving her friend a little smile, “I’ll be okay, don’t let my stomach acting up ruin our night, you know? I’ll get better.” she adjusts herself on the couch as she watches Shells quickly move over the selections with a velocity that reminded her of the olympics, barely giving enough time for her and Evelyn to check what they could watch as well.

Beatrice sighs, pulling out her phone only to see that there were no other messages from Rooster besides that one, smiling at the little <3 he added at the end. She knew he wouldn’t message her and yet she hoped he would…but it was fine. She was fine, there was nothing more going on and now all they were going to do was watch a movie and spend the night together before going on the hike tomorrow.

That’d be a great distraction. Jolene leaps from the floor to the couch, sniffs Beatrice’s hand and lies between her legs, placing her huge head gently on top of her stomach, as if she wanted to protect it from whatever it was that was making her feel so ill that week.

“Come on,Shells.”

Beatrice was a bit higher on the trail, holding her backpack straps on her shoulders as Evelyn watches Shells, who looked extremely red and was panting as hard as a dog after running a marathon, basically dragging her legs up to meet the two, “She’s looking a lot better than I thought.” Bea said, sharing an amused look with the other woman, watching as Shells basically crawled her way over, falling on her back and breathing heavily.

Their heads appeared in her vision, with Evelyn holding a chilled water bottle towards her, “Thirsty?” Shells only gave her an ugly look, yanking the bottle from her hand and popping the lid open, taking long heavy gulps from it, “Don’t drink too much we don’t want you throwing up.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“It’s true, it can happen.” Beatrice’s gentle voice added, which only made the blonde glare over at her other friend, her cheeks puffed with the chilled liquid and she handed it back to Evelyn, “How are you holding up?”

Shells laughs humorlessly,”As you can see I’m doing great. Jesus fuck, and this is an easy trail?”

“It’s the Dust Devil trail, Shells,” Beatrice says, “Look, even scouts are doing it.” she gestures to the group of boyscouts walking away from them, giving them a small smile and a wave when they look over, but her friend seemed less than impressed…in fact she look even angrier, “We both thought this would be a great idea for you.”

“I feel like death.”

“We barely started.”Evelyn commented, “Don’t be a baby.”

“I can’t feel my legs.”

Beatrice and Evelyn shared a look, which the tallest of the two just sighed and picked the blonde up from her lying position, “Alright, come on, up!” and she lifts Shells up from the sandy ground to a standing position. And, unlike her words from before, her legs were working just fine - a bit wobbly but fine. She leans on a post to take a breather, wiping her forehead with her chest still heaving, “You look like a newborn. All red.”

“Shut up.” Shells growls, supporting her weight on her knees and giving the two a squinted look, “How the fuck are you two not breathing like me? That’s some sort of black magic.”

“We did worse than this.” Beatrice says and Evelyn nods with a grin, “Remind us to take you to the mountains in the future.” the pure horror in Shells face was enough to make the other two laugh at her demise, watching as the blonde grumbled a reply, fixing her shirt and patting her shoulders off any dust from the ground. Since this hiking trail was easier to do, they weren’t in a hurry, they got there early, there were some people around which was enough to feel comfortable around there.

While it was a pretty easy trail, it was far from everything and it could sometimes appear…eerie depending on how you looked, so having other people around was definitely helpful. Beatrice pulls a few twigs and tiny rocks from her friend’s bun, giggling at Shells heavy breathing and gently telling her that they’d go slow so she shouldn’t have to worry so much.

“I think I have short legs or something,” she says taking gasps of air, “Because how the fuck did you two managed to get so far ahead? You know what, don’t answer me. Let’s just go…ugh why did I suggested this!”

“So you could get closer to Bob’s interests.” Beatrice adds helpfully as they get back to walking, Shells in the middle of the two, “And I think he’d appreciate it.”

“He’s lucky I love him, because I’d never do this for anyone else.”

They laugh a bit, with Shells wheezing out for air as they kept on walking and chatting to pass the time. Beatrice however, furrows her brows at a sudden jolt in her stomach, the nausea was calm the whole morning, there was nothing wrong until it was time for the hike and she wondered if her anxiety was acting up in ways she couldn’t identify.

Maybe she was noticing danger that wasn’t clear in the naked eye or maybe she shouldn’t drink too much water. It wasn’t that hot so there was no way she was suffering from heatstroke or anything like that. She however didn’t want to let the others know what she was feeling, shoving it in the back of her brain and telling herself that the only thing it could possibly be was a stomach bug and nothing else or she was just hungry! It could happen, right?

Right.

She did however wished she could’ve brought Jolene with them, but since the dog was pregnant she didn’t want to put a strain on her body. Imagine that, bringing her on a hike could be dangerous! Even if it was a calm hike without many people who knew what could happen. Pregnant people - and dogs - don’t hike, it wasn’t safe…unless you were one of those adventurous mommy bloggers that travel all over the world…but even then, not safe.

Beatrice took cautious sips of water whenever she felt the nausea show up, thinking that doing that helped her get better. They were already half on the trail when she suddenly felt her whole body shudder at a sharp sensation in her stomach.

She inhaled quietly, listening to Shells and Evelyn talk a bit ahead of her, which left Beatrice a bit behind, her steps slowing down to a stop. This time the nausea wasn’t being nice to her, oh no, this time - for the first time since it began - she genuinely felt like she was ready to throw up at any second. Her mouth began to water, a bad sign since it means that something wanted to come out, so she closed her eyes and tried her best to ease her stomach.

Oh no, if she threw up there she’d ruin everyone’s day! Not to mention the other people around! They’d be so worried, oh no, oh no. Beatrice clenches her jaw and swallows harshly, squeezing her eyes shut because her stomach did not like that at all but she managed to keep whatever it was inside of her. She tried to appear casual, but she could no longer drink her water without feeling she was ready to explode, choosing to tap the bottom of the bottle against her palm to keep her distracted.

However, she didn’t notice how far the girls were from her, only doing so when Evelyn looked back and called her name, “Hey!You okay?” she couldn’t open her mouth, she feared if she did all her effort would be meaningless, so she gave them a thumbs up.

The two shared a worried look, walking back to where she was “Jesus Bea, you look pale.” Shells added, “Are you sure you are okay?” another nod, with a tight smile, “You should sit down.”

Beatrice swallows again and this time it feels even harder to, all she could do was take in deep breaths and hope she didn’t go full Regan in front of her friends. She looked around almost desperately, she had to see if there was somewhere she could go in case she couldn’t keep it in…and by the way Evelyn was looking at her she felt there wasn’t much she could do, “Bea.” her friend places a hand over her shoulder and the simple pressure was more than enough for her brain to go on red alert.

She looks around again, finds a bush and immediately hides behind it before anyone could stop her. Of course the other two rush over and see their friend coughing up everything that was lodged within her stomach, “Jesus,” Evelyn whisper, “Bea, come on, you need to sit up.”

“I’m fine–”

“You threw up what you probably ate in seventh grade, now come with me.” Evelyn snaps, pulling out some napkins she had in her backpack, wetting it with Beatrice’s water bottle then handing it back to her, “Swish it inside, to get rid of the taste.” the brunette does, the color slowly returning to her face as Evelyn leads her outside, Shells was too busy playing bodyguard and hiding whatever was happening from the outside view.

Evelyn leads Beatrice to a small rock, where the brunette sits down and watches with teary eyes as her friend presses the cool cloth napkin to her forehead, “Are you feeling anything else?” Beatrice shakes her head negatively, “You aren’t warm, it’s not heat stroke…and your color is returning…did you eat anything before we left?” a nod since she’s busy sipping her water to cool her throat.

She sees Evelyn’s brown eyes hone on her stomach, then back up at her eyes, “...Bea…when was your last period?”

“I’ll have it this week.” she explains, “I’m keeping everything organized.”

But her friend didn’t seem convinced, “You didn’t want to drink alcohol.”

“I probably got sick of it.”

“Pizza immediately makes you sick after eating…Bea…is there a chance you might be pregnant?”

The sounds of nature around them was the only response Evelyn got, with the brunette parting her lips then closing it. She considered it, but it couldn’t be, right? She was keeping everything written down as she told Evelyn, “I…I don’t…don’t know…”

“Bea, we need to check.” Evelyn says gently, holding her friend’s shoulders, “You never had these symptoms before while on a hike, you aren’t Shells-”

“Hey!”

“You know what to do when hiking.” again another look at the brunette’s stomach, “...would you be willing to take a pregnancy test?”

Part of her immediately said yes while the other was still reluctant, almost clinging to the idea that it wasn’t anything like that and there was no way. It was just a random stomach bug, nothing more. But all Beatrice could do, in reality, was nod towards Evelyn.

Beatrice looks down at the tests on top of her sink, wringing her hands together and breathing slowly as she waited. “It said three minutes,” she whispered, pacing an eight shape in the bathroom, “I can wait three minutes,” and yet she’s looking at her phone every now and again, chewing her lower lip.

Evelyn and Shells were downstairs, deciding to keep a distance but be present if she needed which Beatrice greatly appreciated. Jolene was the only one there, inside the bathroom, lying on her side with her huge eyes following her owner’s every move. Beatrice tried to calm down, tried to breathe in and out as slowly as she could, flapping her hands to get rid of the tension clinging to her joints the more she waited.

There were two sticks, one next to the other, almost like an arrow pointed directly at her stomach but she kept them facing down, not ready to see the results yet. What if she was pregnant? A test could say yes but she’d want to check with a doctor just to be sure, because what if it was just those random things that happen in your body and give you a fake result? It could happen! It could definitely happen!

Her alarm goes off after three minutes, that in her opinion lasted an eternity and she turned it off, facing the tests with her hands trembling just a bit, “...okay.” she whispers, “It’s okay.” she inhales shakily, grabbing one of the tests and turning it around.

Two red lines.

Beatrice licks her lips, her hand still shaking and she doesn’t know how to react…so she grabs the other one, to be sure and the results are the same.

She’s pregnant.

She feels her body go soft, walking backwards until her back hit the door with a loud thud that undoubtedly the women below her heard considering the hurried footsteps outside the bathroom followed soon after. She slid down to the cold tiled floor, holding both test on top of each other, looking at the red lines over and over, “...I’m pregnant.”

“Bea?!” three hard knocks ,”Bea!Bea are you okay?!”

Beatrice feels her cheeks get warm then something wet touches her collarbone and she wipes her cheek to see tears rolling down her face. Jolene stands to her paws, slowly approaching her owner and licking the tears away, putting her huge head on her shoulder to keep her company, “...I’m pregnant…Jojo…I-”

“Bea!Jesus Christ if you don’t open this door I will kick it down!”

She was snapped back to reality by Shells’ worried tone, giving Jolene one look for bravery and pushing herself to her feet to see her reflection. She was crying still…but there was a little smile on her face, a nervous one, but it was there. With the two tests held in her hand like a treasure, Beatrice opens the door slowly, letting Jolene walk out first while she stayed by the threshold.

Evelyn looks from her face to the tests then back up, “So?”

“What’s the answer?” Shells asks, looking even more nervous than before, “What’s happening?”

Beatrice licks her lips, then turns the tests to her friends to see. There was silence again, a silence lasted for a few seconds, perhaps too many, until it was broken by Shells’ slapping her forehead and immediately whispering a ‘Holy shit.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader

108 notes · View notes

sophieinwonderland · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! I know the Dreamland System irl (been friends since high school) and I’ve been in the tulpa community way longer than they have. Coming up on 6 years, actually! But could you cool it with talking about them (Halberd) pls? I know they’re hospitalized at the moment but it’s unnerving to see you talking about them regularly like this. Do you think you would mind talking about something other than a traumatized vulnerable system in need of serious help?

I don’t follow you (but from tulpa to tulpa - hi!!) And honestly I don’t agree with a lot of Hal’s alters’ takes, but it just doesn’t seem right, what you’re doing. I know you don’t know them, but they were majorly traumatized and ultimately assaulted back when we were in high school which all started from people telling lies about them behind their back.

Hopefully they won’t know about what you’ve been saying here, but I just thought I’d shoot you a heads up because you might not know what they’ve gone through and how that affects them today. Even though Hal probably isn’t going to see this, I thought it would be the right thing to ask you to leave them alone for their sake. I’m really worried about them!

If it would be of any benefit, I could maybe pass along a message to them about your feelings and how their actions have affected you too! I can see how they’ve been kind of hypocritical about this, but as far as I know their concerns with racism and stuff were always about your actions and not you specifically! They’ve gotten into activism over the last few years and I can assure you while they may be misguided or misinformed, their intentions are good. From what I know from our conversations about existing as a system online, they’re mostly trying to stand up for marginalized people in the system community.

I’m not the one picking them up from the hospital, but I am a dear friend of theirs and will be in touch with them after they’ve been released. Let me know if I can pass a message along! It would do them and my own system a lot of good to see this put to rest.

(You don’t have to post this if it makes you uncomfy of course! I hope you and your host are staying safe and hydrated ❤️)

I'm sorry. I didn't know what they went through. I do... wish that they had considered their own actions before the posts they made about me for all that time, and how that can hurt others.

Anyway, I think I've gotten out most of what I needed to say and won't mention them again after this post.

This post... does also get a little venty too though, so there's your warning.

This has been... a really sucky position to be in... being attacked and smeared by someone for months, finally saying a couple small things about them, and triggering this type of reaction. I'm having to defend myself from abuse accusations, while still trying to put out fires they set and continuously stoked (the zoophilia allegations, being a major one) and still being upset at them tagging me in response to a post where I explained that tagging people makes it easier for potential harassers to get to them.

So I'm in a position where I feel like I need to share my side of the story before the attacks against me escalate and get even further out of hand.

And I feel like I need to balance all of this while... genuinely not wanting to cause this person I used to like and get along with harm.

I mean, part of the reason that I didn't address the personal attacks for so long was because I know that I have a large blog and some of my followers can be a tad overzealous. (I love this community, but when you have 1500 followers, it only takes a small percentage of them to get aggressive and decide to resort to sending people hate anons. Another reason that I generally avoid engaging with anti-endos directly. Despite them taking it as a personal offense that I often screenshot without tagging them, this is done for the protection of the people I respond to. I generally only tag these days when I deem it absolutely necessary.)

I took a small precaution with my vent post and turned off reblogs to make it less likely they'll find it. I'll turn off reblogs on this one too.

And in a perfect world, that would be enough. I blocked their accounts that weren't blocking me already. They shouldn't see my posts.

And yet I can't shake the feeling their friend group is still watching everything I say, discussing it in that server of theirs, and will probably send it directly to them once they're out. And so any precautions I take to avoid hurting them further, while still trying to defend myself, are likely moot.

As for passing on a messages about how their actions affected me... I don't know what the point is.

Why would I want you to tell somebody dealing with suicidal ideation right now how much it hurts to see someone you used to like and respect turn against you? To have them namecall and attack you constantly? All while you stay quiet because you feel like anything you say will make things worse? (And yes, it does feel extremely personal when my name is mentioned constantly on their syscourse blog.)

Maybe there was a time to have that conversation with them but that time has long since passed.

Telling them that right now doesn't seem productive at all and only causes more strife.

If their other friends do decide to show them this last vent of mine, then that's on them. I've done what I can to keep this post from getting beyond my own blog. But I'm not going to ask somebody to deliver that message to somebody who is vulnerable right now because them knowing would only serve to make me feel better.

I guess... if you want to pass on a message... tell them that I'm sorry that I hurt them... tell them that I hope they're well... and ask that they not contact me or @ me again. Maybe that sounds cold, but I genuinely believe that's going to be the healthiest thing for everyone involved.

(Actually, if you don't mind, maybe ask them to avoid any accounts that have them blocked since last I heard, they were talking about remaking their post @'ing Eeveecraft on their main blog since Eeveecraft only blocked the syscourse blog... that's very much not okay. And I certainly don't want to see them develop a habit of that.)

There. That's it. Now I've said everything I have to say on the matter.

Thank you for being a good friend to them. I'm glad they someone like you looking out for them. 💖

#syscourse

12 notes · View notes

valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn · 2 years ago

Note

This might seem like a weirdly personal question, but do you have any advice on managing strong romantic feelings for a fictional character and/or the actor who plays them? I only ask because after seeing MoM, I developed some feelings for Wanda, and by extension Elizabeth Olsen herself, that feel about as close to love as you can get without directly knowing the person. I know how this would come across to a lot of people so I will say upfront that I’ve never considered stalking or harassing her in any way, and that whatever interaction I might have with her would be on her terms in a setting she’s comfortable with. That being said, I also hold myself to a high standard in how I feel about her and have a lot of guilt or anxiety about other emotions, some of them trivial like feeling bad that I didn’t watch Wandavision when it first came out, and some more intense like even though I want to work in movies and maybe with Elizabeth herself, I’m not smart enough to be a writer and director and create something worthy of her talents. And in certain times, there’s also angst over not ever having a chance to be with her or even Wanda romantically followed by guilt over being that selfish in wanting her for myself. Sorry if this is going on too long but essentially, are there strategies you or someone you know are familiar with for keeping an affection for someone like this in your life in a healthy way, because I do appreciate the good aspects of Elizabeth’s talent and Wanda’s story but not letting the negative feelings on my part get in the way. Sorry if this is gets too personal but thank you for your time.

No apology needed at all, dear! It's alright. Thank you for reaching out.

I'm afraid I know very little about these things, to be honest. The way I see it, all emotions are exactly the same. If we're okay with people laughing or crying over a story, why would other emotions be a problem? It's a fantasy after all. Real or not doesn't really change anything, humans have developed so many different forms of communication precisely because we love telling stories to each other -- none of them are real, but that doesn't make them any less valuable.

I believe the question you need to ask yourself is if this is affecting your life in any way, as in your real-life relationships, your mental well-being, your work, your responsibilities, etc. But if it isn't, there's nothing wrong with fantasizing or feeling. Wanda is a fictional character after all so whatever you do or say is not going to hurt her, and regarding Elizabeth you seem to have it figured out just fine as well. So, is it hurting you?

As for the other less pleasant feelings such as anxiety, guilt, etc, I can only assume that if you have romantic feelings for her and Wanda, you will experience everything that comes with that. Love isn't always nice, is it? Be it with a real person or not, sometimes it's messy and painful.

Personally, I wouldn't try to fight against those feelings or bottle them up, that would only make things worse. Just allow yourself to feel them, maybe do something creative with them like write fanfic or draw or talk to other fans about it, etc. Or just fantasize about it in your own way, whatever makes you 'feel' is good enough -- both pleasant and non-pleasant are okay, maybe you can try to change the perspective and see those emotions as a gateway to understanding yourself better. I know the non-pleasant ones suck big time, but they can be helpful.

A quick google search says this is "fictosexuality". There must be some forums online with people who discuss this kind of thing, they'll probably give you better advice than me since I don't really know much about this. I'm sorry I can't be of better help here but know that you're not alone.

#wanda maximoff #fictosexuality

14 notes · View notes

cringefaildiaz · 2 years ago

Note

Can I get your opinion on something? how do you feel about Ravi lately. Because I’m happy we’re seeing more of him but I also feel like they kinda gave up on giving him his own personality? Last season he was his own person: he was an introvert, a bit shy and hesitant but still competent and emphatic. and now he’s. well. He’s Buck. All jokes and random facts. last episode every time he spoke (especially at some point when he said statistics about something i don’t remember) I found myself thinking “that’s something Buck would say”. Idk it’s probably a me problem (i read an interview where they said “he’s gonna butt heads with buck because now he’s the cheeky one” so I’m probably focused on that), we still don’t know much about him and it takes me at least a few episodes to understand characters. Hoping we’ll see more of his backstory (praying for a Ravi begins) and his relationships with other characters and I’ll be able to get him better.

It’s important to me that you (and everyone else) know that you can literally always ask my opinion on anything. Anytime. I love saying words.

Honestly, I never was part of the Ravi fan brigade (tho I’m really happy that he’s back) so my thoughts on who he is as a character are kinda ?!?!?!. His re-intro was phenomenal I thought, a great little retroactive explanation of where he’s been and why he’s been there—with the level of emotional depth that 911 is so good at giving.

I thought his “are you sure that’s a good idea”/“I did tell you it was a bad idea” this past ep felt on brand for him, but I also didn’t really clock his characterization that much in seasons past, beyond him being sort of hesitant in a way that made sense for a new kid Buck was harassing at every turn lmao. Moving him away from that hesitance now that he’s developed professionally makes a lot of sense to me, but again, I’m no Ravi scholar.

I like the idea of him being somewhat Buck-like but maybe a little more…grounded? Like as the newest member and also the one that’s existed outside the 118 in the LAFD, it’s kinda fun to have him side eying the team. I definitely didn’t read his characterization in this most recent ep quite as Buck-like as you did, but I get the concern. They both kinda emanate little-brother energy and I would hate to see Ravi turn into a Buck-redux.

I do think 911 is trying to prep for the next stage in the show tho, and bringing Ravi back is a key play in that imo. Like, clearly Buck is in the homestretch on the emotional journey he’s been on since s1, which presumably means getting linked up with his ~forever person~ in the next season or so. And reintroducing Ravi and giving him some familiar, Buck-like character traits might be their way of moving Ravi into that “star single hot firefighter” role Buck’s been filling for 6 seasons. Not to be Buck round 2, but to hint hint nudge nudge at the audience that he’s gonna step up into a similar role narratively; youngest on the team, still finding his footing in the 118 AND in the world. I think that’s a big reason we got the fire academy setting too, with named characters who had really distinct personalities despite having so little screentime—they need to be ready to sub in some new firefighters if they want this show to run much longer, whether the main cast stays after contract renewals next season or not.

That’s all massive speculation from me, but I just cannot get the idea out of my head that they’re readying themselves for the next phase of 911, and you mentioning Ravi’s characterization being reminiscent of Buck just kinda. Slots right in with that crackpot theory of mine.

#Buck gives ‘lovable dumbass with a passion for Wikipedia’ to me while ravi reads much more #‘logical type a person that has to deal with all this nonsense’ to me #i gotta go back and watch the ravi episodes tho clearly cuz the only things I can think of off hand are #‘I’m not with them’ and the quiet incident #911 fox #911 spec #ask a bean

10 notes · View notes

fxshrxfmxn · 2 years ago

Text

How to Request

I have decided that I will write for The Chosen. Maybe a good decision, maybe a bad decision. But here we are.

This seems like overkill right now if I’m honest, but I might thank myself later.

As of this moment, I do not have a masterlist, however, I do tag all of my writings so you can search them and read them all.

Just search:

fxshrxfmxn writings

fxshrxfmxn fanfic

And they should all be made available to you to find relatively easily💖

To make things a bit easier for me and how I want to stay within my beliefs, I’m setting up guidelines for requesting writing from me for The Chosen.

Before I begin, it is important that we all understand that I am writing for the storyline of The Chosen. Each event in The Chosen was either spun by the writers and directors OR pulled from the Bible itself. I am writing for the character that the actors in the show portray, not the real people themselves. The Bible and the Chosen, to me, are separate things and I will be treating them as such. (I am for sure okay with talking about scripture itself, but in a different kind of context.)

Anyways…

With traditionally romantic writings, things tend to be a bit touchy and comfy. That’s fine, I love that. Lord knows, I will be huggy with my future other half before marriage(I don’t think I could just not touch them, luckily our current culture allows for that.)

But the culture in bible time was very different. The parents would arrange with the parents, or the parents would talk to the guy. There wasn’t dating as it is now, certainly not premarital kissing or hugging, not in public anyways, because it was seen as improper. Also pretty much no touching. So, I really want to try and keep things more proper.

In A Misunderstanding (my fic about John the Beloved) I do think that’s the most contact I will allow for “romantic” fics, that I write. Not entirely true to the proper culture back then, but less scandalous, y’know?

(I might budge the line occasionally, but if it doesn’t feel right, I just won’t write it. I will for sure communicate that to the requester.)

That being said, I have only written for John so far, I will write for anyone in the show. I am female, so anything “romantic”, I will only write for the men in the show(anyone BUT Jesus(obviously)), and beyond that if you want just a chill fic about hanging with the Marys and Ramah and Tamar, I can do that. I love writing fanservice, just shenanigans and things of that nature are super fun. Give me a challenge, I love those.

So: Keep it E for everyone, not even PG. Minimal hand holding; maybe a few hugs. No kissing on the mouth and certainly no NSFW. Men and women, who were not married, weren’t allowed to be alone together. So that is the way my fics will be.

(Not telling other people they shouldn’t be writing it, (you write what you like and are comfortable with) I am just setting a personal standard for myself and will be keeping to it.)

I am a female and, as this is already out of my comfort zone, will only be writing from the female perspective.

NO:

-NSFW

-Mouth to Mouth(kissing)(unless it’s a marriage fic, which Idek if I’m comfortable writing that yet)(idk why either so don’t ask)

-No being completely alone with the opposite sex

-if the character is married or already betrothed in the show, please keep the request platonic.

-edit: 10/23 anything same sex romantic is a no as well. I will not change my mind. Any messages/comments will be deleted/reported and you will be blocked if you harass me about it. We can discuss things without those coming into the mix.

YES:

-Shenanigans(practical jokes and things of that nature, family friendly comedy stuff)

- Girl time with the female disciples

-Found family is my favorite trope, so anything about learning to cohabitate in a camp with a bunch of Christ’s followers? Yes, please.

-prompts about Christ accepting you as you are, calling you to follow him and helping you turn from old lifestyles are fics that I think can be very healing. (Things like this I will be discerning on a prompt to prompt basis)

Characters I will write for at least once:

Simon Peter(platonic only please)

Simon Z

Thomas(platonic only please)

Andrew

Matthew(either romantic or platonic for now until we actually figure out where his relationship with Mary is going)

Nathaniel

Thaddeus

Big James

Little James

John the Beloved(of course)

Judas(tentatively because I have a personal bias to get over(I had always thought of him as the villain(which isn’t the case))

Philip

Any of the girls(Mary, Mary M., Ramah, Tamar, Eden, Salome)(platonic only please)

Jesus(platonic only please(I shouldn’t have to say that, but there’s always someone)

Potentially Quintus, Atticus, and/or Gaius(platonic only please) (I would actually prefer platonic for all three, but I will use discernment on a prompt by prompt basis.)

TL;DR: Every prompt that comes to me, I will use my own discernment for whether I am comfortable or not with writing it, all I ask is that you be respectful if your prompt is not answered the way you want it to be. If you request something that goes against everything on the “NO” list, your request will be discarded, so I recommend you at least read that bit.

Tutorial on how to request anything from me:

Use the ask button! Or send me a message! Both are located in the upper right hand corner for mobile. I don’t use a computer, so I’m not sure where those buttons are at on the computer.

I also prefer dialogue prompts have at least two bits of dialogue and a genre with it, just for a bit more guidance on what you want.

Will do headcanons, but if you could say whether you want separate headcanons or just a group headcanon so that I give you exactly what you want and don’t have to guess, that’d be great.

I love you so much because Jesus loves you so much and wants the best for you. I respect you as a person, the way Jesus respects you and ask that you extend me the same courtesy.

Blessings to each and every one of you. 💗✨🫶🏻

11 notes · View notes

ohyangchon · 1 year ago

Text

Alistair,

It’s Joel again. Th’ Duke’s goons got their hands on ya, and I was movin’ our shit outta our usual spot ta somewhere less infested - by the time I got there, your place had been trashed and I found ya out like a light in our bedroom.

Navezgane’s finally gone ta hell. I’m settin’ ya up with a doctor pal o’ mine, Jen, th’ next town over and she’d be helpin’ ya relearn th’ ropes while ya recover. I’ve still got crap ta settle - maybe start trackin’ down whoever did this ta ya and teach ‘em a lesson they ain’t ‘bout ta forget. When all this is said and done, I’m ridin’ up on my 4x4 and bringin’ ya home like th’ bride ya deserve ta be. No more fightin’ zombies and runnin’ ‘round like a headless chicken doin’ these dangerous jobs.

P.S. I donated all th’ stuff ya said ta donate ta some o’ th’ survivors that were helpin’ me with errands. Only thing I couldn’t bear ta throw out was that black spear ya so loved. That one’s framed up in my office. Whenever this whole crisis with th’ Duke tides over, feel free ta come pick it up again. It’ll always be yours. ---- The new town was about as quiet as I’d expected it to be.

I’d set up shop next to Jen’s place, considering her interest in seeing my recovery. Learning to reuse the spear again was the first on my agenda (everything seemed scrambled in my head, and I’d pieced together crafting some basic tools through the magazines she’d been providing me), and the comfortable if not smaller grocery store beside her stronghold had been my base of choice.

Even so, occasionally tracing the drops of rain from the attic, I couldn’t help but think of the cabin from time to time.

Alistair’s Cabin. Joel had jokingly named it that, merging my name and the cabin’s together. It had been a little out of the way, but it had been our home. This “Moe’s Grocery” was comfortable enough, but there was just a spark of joy in the place that felt woefully missing without Joel sneaking over through the balcony to tease me about future work.

Of course, I was probably just counting my eggs a little before they hatched. Settling in to the place hadn’t taken much effort, with my scavenging across the mall strip a short walk away yielding well in starting myself off. Jen was a fair employer in what she offered me, and I was certainly relieved to avoid any bears in the vicinity for the time being, yet the emptiness remained.

At the very least, the sleepy town was more forgiving that Navezgane had been. Travelling at night for a quick scavenge saw a few loose zombies but nothing particularly threatening. The most harassment I received these days were the occasional vulture, and perhaps some snakes that lived in the area - more meat wasn’t something I complained about, I’d mused over the grill with Jen one night.

“You’re pretty special, I think,” Jen admitted, dropping off the crafting magazines in my mailbox with a grin, “I’ve never seen Joel stick his head out so much for a survivor like he did for you. He’d rather die than part with his money, but he was rushing you to me promising his entire fortune to keep you safe.”

“I wooed him with shepard’s pie,” I’d joked back, trying to keep matters cool, “Once I gather the ingredients for it, I could probably make you some. Only if you want to visit and take a break from treating people. Take it as thanks for saving me.”

Jen shrugged. “Least I could do. You were one of the best runners in Navezgane. Sadly, a doctor’s duty is never done,” she replied, already leaving as she tossed me a backwards glance, “If you really wanted to help, start donating your extra food tins to us instead. You’ve been growing a robust garden in your backyard - surely you could spare some crops.”

I reddened as she returned, glancing out towards the garden. It was true that I’d started developing a green thumb after coming to town, and the sprawling farm plot of various vegetables and hops were a testament to it. Once upon a time, I’d brewed an almost endless supply of beer, and now I’d been struggling to set up the chemistry station I once had to work the same way it did back inside the cabin. Not that I was lacking time, really.

Gardening took away some of the anxiety I had about how alone the nights stretched on, even if the place hardly attracted attention. While sitting at home waiting for night to pass, I’d taken to reading the various crafting magazines in the area and teaching myself the recipes to recreate some of the machinery I’d left behind in the cabin. It was either that or demolishing cars for spare parts (why were springs so scarce here?) or checking the dew collectors for a fresh water supply to brew drinks with.

For a moment, I could forget the place was less forgiving than Navezgane.

#7 days to die #tadprompts #guess who's back playing this again #after the update that ruined me because the trader moved lol

5 notes · View notes

dollythesheepp · 2 years ago

Text

Veronica- Chapter 7

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44050953/chapters/115131082#workskin

September 1st, 1989. Dear Diary...

I believe I'm a good person. You know, I think that there's good in everyone. But here we are... first day of senior year! I look around at these kids that I've known all my life and I ask myself ...what happened?

We used to be so tiny and happy, then we got bigger and everything went to shit. But we changed once, so I still pray that maybe we can change again. And if we don't, college is right around the corner, and I'll finally be able to leave this Thunderdome behind me, and say hello to Harvard, Duke, or Brown.

I just hope I'll survive until June...

Those were the first paragraphs written in Veronica's diary. She was seventeen at the time, fourteen years ago, and Betty couldn't help but be reminded of her younger self in those scribbly blue lines, so naive and full of hope, not yet tainted by the hardships of life.

Below the last sentence were several other ones, all from that same day.

---

Dear Diary...

The Heathers just passed by me, floating above the rest of the student body like they're apex predators at the top of the food chain.

They're assholes, everyone knows that but still, all of Westerburg wants to be them, or to be with them.

Heather McNamara is loaded, her dad sells engagement rings.

Heather Duke doesn't have a discernable personality but the implants paid with her mother's cash do the job just fine.

And Heather Chandler...the almighty. She is a mythic bitch.

They're solid Teflon, never bothered, never harassed. I would give anything to be like that...

Dear Diary...

Help me fight the urge to strike a match and set this dump ablaze.

I've been here for two hours and I've already been shoved, yelled at, got my lunch tray smacked down by Ram Whose Entire Personality is Being The Team's Linebacker Sweeney, and almost got my ass kicked by Kurt Kelly, the smartest guy on the football field ...which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf...

Now I'm hiding in the bathroom to avoid dealing with this bullshit.

---

Dear Diary...

Sometimes, if you hope, dream, and pray enough, you get your way in the end.

Today ended up being a beautiful freaking day.

As the eventful day of September 1st ended with that last sentence, Betty closed the notebook, feeling tired and with her head full from going through the piles of old manuscripts all day, her tired vision starting to blur the words in front of her.

Getting inside Veronica's thoughts through her diary made Betty feel slightly better about the whole situation. It made it easier to stop seeing Veronica as this hallowed, unreachable person; Betty got the chance to see the actual her, read about her feelings and her insight of the world, and for the first time, she didn't have to rely on anyone's opinion to learn that, only Veronica's- even thought Betty was reading from the point of view of seventeen year old Veronica, still full of hormones and teenage anguish.

As Betty got up from the couch to return the diary to its box, she felt her Nokia cellphone vibrating in her pocket, she flipped it open, seeing it was her landlord.

"Hello, Ms. Finn?" said the forty something year old on the other line, his slight southern accent echoing in her ears.

"Yeah?"

"The problem with the plumbing I told you about," he began, getting straight to the point, no frills. "Turns out it's worse than we thought. I'm afraid it will take a little while to get the place ready for you to move in."

"Hm, how long is a little while, exactly?" Betty asked, already feeling the headache coming.

"A couple more weeks, give or take."

"A couple more?" she echoed, incredulous. "I'm already out of my old apartment, what am I supposed to do until then?"

"I'm really sorry, I know this wasn't excepted..." he continued.

"It's ok," Betty mumbles, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'll...I'll figure something out. Thanks."

She turned the cell phone off, plopping on the couch. Betty was the type of person who liked to have everything planned out, she felt comforted begging a week knowing exactly how it would end; setbacks like those were a nightmare for her. She had already talked it over with JD about staying until Tuesday, then she would go to a hotel and wait for the place to get ready, but there's no way could afford two weeks at a hotel, even a cheap one.

She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes, stressed out. She glanced at her watch, seeing how late it was, and got up from the couch to go to sleep. She closed Veronica's diary, with a bookmark to indicate what page she had stopped at, knowing for certain she would keep reading it the next day.

***

Sunday morning came along with its usual feeling of laziness, one that only grew heavier with the rain falling in heavy droplets, making the tree leaves dance and the house smell like wet grass.

Betty woke up a little later than the day before, to which she blamed it on the chilly weather and not on the fact that she had stayed up until late snooping through Veronica's diary.

When she left her room, Betty was introduced to the other nurse, Kate, who was older than Martha, probably in her late fifties, and a lot more serious too.

To Betty's dismay, Kate didn't leave delicious coffee for her, like Martha did. But JD came to her rescue, offering to make her coffee and toast. Time flew by as they chatted amicably, until JD glanced at his watch, cursing under his breath.

"I can't believe it's already 10 a.m," he said, he appeared upset about having to cut the conversation short, and Betty did too. JD was easy to talk to, he was funny and clever, as well as a good listener. "I have to drop by the company to handle some issues, if you need anything you can ask Kate."

Betty nodded and waved him goodbye. After he left, an eerie silence took over the house. Kate was upstairs with Veronica, who according to JD was watching television, leaving Betty alone with nothing but the rain to keep her company. Since staying outside and enjoying the view was out of question, Betty settled for studying her notes in the living room instead, bringing the heap of papers and another cup of coffee along with her.

She stayed on the couch for hours, forgetting about her plans to order lunch, completely immersed in what she was doing, until the doorbell rang. Betty looked around, unsure of what to do. She waited to see if Kate would appear in the living room, but that didn't happen, maybe she didn't hear or simply ignored it, since answering the door was not at all part of her job description.

The bell rang a couple more times, the person outside getting impatient. Betty got up from the couch to open it, feeling a bit weird, like she was overstepping a boundary somehow.

You're well past that...a little voice in her head snickered.

Betty unlocked the wooden door to reveal a petite woman standing on the other side. She had her back facing Betty, looking at the front lawn instead, she probably got distracted from waiting for the door to open, so at first, all Betty saw was a mop of curly blonde hair. The woman turned around quickly once she realized the door was open, and she looked at Betty with a puzzled expression on her face.

"You're not Martha," she blinked her wide, doe eyes. At that moment, Betty recognized her as one of the girls from the picture.

"N-no, sorry. I'm Betty, the hm...the ghostwriter," Betty said, unsure of how to introduce herself.

"Hm, alright..." the girl said, eyeing Betty up and down. "I'm Heather, by the way. Is Veronica up for a visit?"

#heathers #heathers the musical #heathers 1989 #veronica sawyer #jason dean #betty finn

5 notes · View notes