#i mean once you realize you're doing that its fairly easy to stop

[lostxmelody]

ty for the tag @rainbowghostcat :) !!

the 'strengths' are the most inaccurate thing i have ever seen in my LIFE. never once have i made a deadline (evident by past blog posts about fic chapters). i do not smile all that often (i also wear a mask in public), and i hate physical contact. lmao

though, i do love cats....

To all my moots and all

Take this test

@feeble13@mossy-tables@findingmcfinder

[sugako]

tied with a bow

suna x f!reader cw: 18+ only minors dni, toys (vibrating panties), (secret) toy use in public/exhibitionism, established relationship, slight dubcon (reader doesn't know they're vibrating panties at first) then consent & enthusiasm, slightly jealous suna, edgeing, accidental ruined orgasm (receiving), public sex/in a bathroom, a handful of "good girl"s, unprotected wc: 2.5k a/n: for the #boys&toyscollab from @fallensvint (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ ty for letting me participate this is such a fun collab idea and i had a great time writing it

"I know tonight isn't ideal, but maybe this will help make up for it."

You turn from your place in front of the bathroom mirror, eyebrows lacing in confusion until you look down at the small bag in his hands. It's a pretty shade of red, complete with matching tissue paper that's been carefully tucked around something inside.

"Rintarou, we already-"

"I know, but I felt like you deserved something more." He cut you off, a small smile curling up the corner of his mouth. You could tell from the held-back expression he was dying to laugh.

Considering it was your anniversary, it was fairly suspect. Suna had a crude sense of humor at the worst of times but had gifted you some practical items and a pretty, delicate necklace with a little black gem held in its grasp. Instead of a nice dinner as you had both originally planned, you were being whisked away to an EJP team event.

When he had been told he was contractually obligated you could feel the disappointment wavering off his body for hours. Though you tried to assure him that you truly didn't mind a free dinner and dressing up - although it came at the price of a little press - he still seemed upset until the day before.

Hesitantly, you reached out for the bag. While he noticed your careful reaction, he didn't make any move to comment, simply letting you find out on your own. The gift was easy enough to spot when you riffled through the paper.

"Lingerie?" You questioned, slowly pulling the black lace from the red package. Shoulders relaxing, you felt some comfort realizing it wasn't something to be worried about. At least, not that you knew yet. "It's pretty." You sighed, unfurling the material.

"Thought you would like it. Wear it tonight?" He asks softly. Smiling kindly, you wrap your arms around his thick shoulders and lean to press a kiss to his cheek.

"Yeah, I think it'll be fine with the dress I have picked out, but why…" a big detail catches your eye and you do a double-take back to your hands, "...why are there ties?"

"Oh," he shrugs, feigning innocence, "I think they wanted to be inclusive, just came in one size. No idea."

The next hour moves quickly between the two of you washing up and getting dressed for the night. Although his closet is impressive, Suna can be particular about his outfit selection. He tells you he wants to look good and professional, it's good for his career, but you think he just likes to dress up nicely at any given chance when he's not in the gym.

As time draws near, you're both nearing the door, smoothing any creases and straightening what needs to be. Though, a moment before you can wrap your hand around the door handle, he's grabbing your arm and pulling you back to his chest.

"Did we forget-?"

"No." He cuts you off gruffly, hiking your dress up with the hand not holding you.

"Rintarou, we don't have time!" You squeak out, fumbling to move his hands away.

"We're not doing anything." He mumbles while reaching back to grab something from his jacket pocket. "Just this," he says as slips the little bullet past the band of your panties, neatly placing it in the little pocket you hadn't noticed until now.

"Ri-rint-!"

"I'm surprised you didn't know what these were to begin with." He chuckles, letting you go and pulling out his phone. "I won't turn it on if you don't want me to, you just mentioned wanting to try-"

"Yes." You answer quickly. A little embarrassed with your own fervor your shift, straightening out your dress although it didn't need it. "I mean, uh, yes, as long as no one can hear it. Could be kinda fun."

His lips curl into a tight smile and he taps a few buttons on his phone, eyes shifting between you and the screen. It starts up quick and fast, pressed well enough against your clit to make you clamp your legs together.

"Rin!" You squeak, grabbing his arm to keep your knees from buckling.

"Whoops," he smirks rather unconvincingly, "Hmm, well it is quiet."

The panties are ruined before you even step out of the car to the event. Suna's hand comes down on the small of your back, holding you close before the crowd can sweep you away. Anticipation swelling in your chest you watch him as he pulls out his phone and flips through the apps.

"Ready?" He leans in to ask, voice barely raised above the gentle roar of the crowd.

"Yeah," you force yourself to take a deep breath and let your shoulders relax. "I'll let you know if I really need to stop for whatever reason." You quickly add, already knowing his next question.

"Good girl." He smiles, giving you back a little squeeze before he taps the screen. The vibe comes to life again, the soaked fabric making it even easier for you to feel it. You take a sharp, wavering inhale through your nose.

It's not as strong this time, but between how good Suna looks tonight, the longing touches you've been sharing since you left the house, and the fact that you're surrounded by people at a professional function, it felt just as dizzying. He would tease you endlessly for how you were reacting no matter what, you already knew, but that only added to the appeal.

The night went on smoothly for the most part. Suna came and went from your side when needed - whether to speak to the press, his captain, or grab drinks and food for the two of you. Though your voice didn't sputter and your body didn't tremble as much as you were briefly worried it would, there was still a certain amount of excited trepidation with every step you took and word you spoke.

While you longed for release and the ache drew up between your legs, you could feel that the two of you were close to the end. Suna had stepped away for just a moment leaving you beside Komori while he asked higher-ups if he was good to leave now. He wasn’t an exceptionally jealous or insecure person, and it was an innocent touch, really. But when he watched as you grazed his teammate's arm with the knowledge that you were ruining yourself, it ticked some feral part of his brain.

Stopping in his path toward you, Suna rips the phone from his pocket and clicks open the app once again for the night. The warning at the bottom of the screen telling him the battery was getting low didn’t even reach his eyes before he clicks the settings up to their highest level.

In the midst of giggling over the odd relationship between Komori’s cousin and one of Suna’s old teammates, both of whom you had met less than a handful of times, you felt the wind get knocked out of you. As you pretend to choke on your drink, you scan the room in a panic looking for him. Before you can spot him, a strong hand pressed into your back, forcing you to stand up straight.

“Oh, hi!” Komori gives Suna a wave and a small grin, clueless to your flustered expression. “We were just talking about Atsum-”

“Sorry,” he really is, “Promised we would head out early.”

“No worries.” He chirps back. “Nice seeing you.” It’s directed at you, but you’re lost. The pulsing between your legs is near unbearable, you’re wound up so tight it’s a wonder you haven’t burst over the edge yet. It’s all you can do to muster out a polite hum and nod to him. Your legs are shaking now, you have to take deep breaths to steady yourself, faking little coughs when moans bubble up in your chest. Suna is saying something else to him, but you can’t quite hear, the pressure in your ears too loud.

Then, without warning, it stops. Fingers digging into the sleeve of Suna’s jacket to get his attention, you give him a sharp tug. When you look, you realize he doesn’t have his phone out and he looks about as confused as you. Realization hits his face like a ton of bricks.

“Not feeling well?” He huffs out at you, less of a question and more of a statement really. You quickly shake your head and offer an apologetic look to Komori. “Sorry, we really do have to go now.”

He barely gets out another polite goodbye before Suna is dragging you out of the venue. You make it to the desolate lobby and are dragged into an empty-looking bathroom before you can even say anything.

“Why did-”

“It died, I didn’t do anything.” He quips, locking the door behind him. “I’m sorry baby, I really didn’t mean to.” Dragging you back to him he traces gentle kisses down your shoulders, already hiking up your dress with a hand that’s traveled to your ass.

“Please, need you, Rin.” Your eyes sparkle at him, pulling his face back up to yours so you can kiss him properly. At first, it’s sweet, tame almost, but your dire need and the fact that your cunt is still throbbing on the edge pushes you to deepen it. Tongue lashing across his, fighting for nothing in particular, everything about your motions and groping hands becomes sloppy and irregular.

“Right now? Here?” He teases out, cradling your cheeks.

“Yes, here. Now.” You demand with your hands already tugging on his well-made belt, struggling with the buckle. Through the silky material of his pants, you can feel how swollen and hard he already is. “Don’t need anything else, just you inside of me.” You continue, half-distracted from tearing his clothes away when his thumb swipes over your bottom lip and presses into your mouth. Without a second thought, you suck it in, lavishing your tongue over his fingertip as you would his cock. All it does is make you needier while your hands tremble around his length, finally pulling him out.

“Such a good fucking girl.” He groans when you swipe over the tip. Steadying your quivering body with two hands tightly drawn over your hips, he flips you around so you’re against the wide sink counter facing yourself.

While you settle your chest against it and spread your legs, he’s making quick work of the ties holding up your panties. “You really did make an absolute mess of these.” He whistles lowly, admiring the spread of creamy slick that’s painted between your thighs. The panties are tossed beside your face, your own smell momentarily taking your focus away from him until you feel the gentle prod of his cock against you.

“Just put it in, I can take it.” You beg, wiggling your hips back for emphasis.

“Bet you can.” He agrees as he pushes in the rest of the way with one fluid motion. A cracked moan breaks from you, and you realize as he fills you out that the cord in you is snapping. His hips barely drag out, shallowly pumping into you.

“Cu-cumming.” You stutter out, hips twitching under his hold. Being on the edge for so long pushed you into such sensitivity, even he’s a little surprised when you start to flutter around him. He keeps up his shallow pumps, wary of pushing you too far when he knows you’ve been teetering at the edge for so long, gently fucking your through until you slump against the counter. “Please…” you weakly call out, still aware of the pleasant draw of his cock that’s nudged deep inside of you.

Not bothering to answer, he offers you a small smile in the mirror, and pistons his hips out at a ferocious speed. The slap of skin and the all-too-loud squelching is making you dizzy, but you can tell by the precious look on his face that you’re not the only one. Suna’s eyes are connected to where he’s getting sucked into your gushing pussy that’s already left a creamy ring at the base of his cock. All he can think about is that you’re wet, so wet, and you’ve been waiting for this all day, waiting for him. Driven out of his own mind by the nearby sensation of you clamping down around him, whining and shaking in his arms, he already feels close.

When he pulls his eyes away from where he’s fucking you, he lands on your face in the mirror. This isn’t perfect, it’s really not. It’s no romantic anniversary night with flower petals and candles, it’s fucking in the bathroom outside a work event. And although he knows you don’t need anything fancy as you always tell him, he feels a twisted pang of guilt and excitement.

Anyone could walk by and hear your unobstructed, pitched moans, his deep whimpers, or the flesh hitting flesh over and over again. At best, this could be a difficult press scandal, but he can’t bring himself to really care, not when you’re begging for him - his cock, his orgasm, he cum to fill you up. His attention is only on you, forcing his hips to thump harder against your backside, balls slapping against your poor, tired cunt that just keeps leaking around him.

You can feel how close he was to his own end, pressure building up in him, cock twitching against you while his resolve falters and his hips stutter against you. The spout of words you had been blabbering on to encourage him got lost as he slams into you with some finality, the warm spray of his cum filling you up from the inside.

Taking a heavy breath he lets himself fall over your back, long torso laying heavy against you. Neither of you attempts to speak, panting and whimpering just above a whisper. After a heavy minute, Suna turns his head to rest against your cheek, giving you a pleased hum.

“Maybe next time I should just keep the battery low.”

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S1:E4; Chapter Four, The Body - [Pt. 3]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘌𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘠/𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘥𝘥 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘧.

WARNINGS: Cursing. Homophobic comments from Tr*y [his in script use of the word fa*ry once] Reader fucking SNAPS.

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

The five of us rode our bikes down the road to school, El on the back of Mike's bike as usual. She seemed eager to soak in everything around her like she would never see it again. Wind brushed the wig aside and she clung tightly to Mike.

Mike was beginning to slow down, the group of us all growing tired from the ride. Soon enough, however, we were walking through the back doors to the schools. Mike was in the lead as he turns to speak to us as we walked.

"Okay, remember, if anyone sees us, look sad."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

'He is still missing, isn't he?'

My thoughts were interrupted by the crackling of the speaker.

"Attention students, there will be an assembly to honor Will Byers in the gymnasium now. Do not go to fourth period."

I looked to the ceiling at the mention of my best friend and by the time I looked ahead, we had made it outside the AV room. Mike was attempting to open the door but it must be locked.

"It's locked." Mike confirmed.

"What?" Lucas asked.

"Hey, El, is there any way for you to open it?" I ask.

Before she could respond, we all jumped at the voice of Mr. Clarke and froze.

"Boys? Lady." He nodded towards El.

"Hey." Lucas breathed, obviously startled.

"Assembly's about to start."

"We know. We're just, you know..." Mike works a solemn look on his face as he spoke and the others seemed to join in, including me although it wasn't that difficult.

"Upset." Lucas nodded, dropping his nervous smile.

"Yeah, definitely upset," Dustin muttered.

I opened my mouth to speak, but thought better to say nothing at all and even looked down to the ground. Channeling all my emotions from just hours before.

"We need some alone time."

"To... cry." Dustin hesitated.

"Yeah, listen... I get it. I do. I know how hard this is, but let's just be there for Will, huh? And then," Mr. Clarke reached into his pocket and pulled out a key.

He tossed the key to Mike who caught it upon instinct.

"the Heathkit is all yours for the rest of the day. What do you say?"

We all looked to each other, wearing subtle triumphant smirks. It couldn't have been that easy, could it?

Mr. Clarke seemed to finally notice that he had no idea who El was.

"I don't believe we've met. What's your name?"

El seemed shocked and began to say 'Eleven' when Mike panicked and cut in.

"Eleanor! She's my, uh-"

"Cousin!" Lucas jumped in.

"Second cousin," Dustin added.

I started to laugh but caught myself just in time to play it off as a cough. I pretended to clear my throat as I looked to Mr. Clarke who was looking a bit confused.

"She's here for Will's funeral." Mike sighed.

Mr. Clarke seemed content with this answer as he shrugged and turned to her.

"Ah, well, welcome to Hawkins Middle, Eleanor. I wish you were here under better circumstances."

She looked to us and Mike, then turned to Mr. Clarke nodding her head. "Thank you."

A small smile fought its way into my face. She was doing great.

"Uh, where are you from exactly?"

El shook her head, sighing exasperatedly. "Bad place-"

"Sweden!" Dustin cuts in.

"I have a lot of Swedish family."

"She hates it there."

"Cold!"

"Subzero."

Meanwhile, I had fought back another laugh at the whole exchange and I had to play it off as a cough yet again.

"Are you alright, Mr. Henderson?"

My head snapped up, but luckily I was fairly quick on my feet this time.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I woke up with a fever, haven't been feeling well all morning. But I insisted on coming. For Will." Mr. Clarke seemed satisfied with my answer and dismissed our odd behavior.

"Shall we?"

"Yep!" We all follow Mr. Clarke to the gymnasium in silence.

As we get closer, I can hear the principal speaking from inside.

"At times like these, it is important that we come together as a community. We come-"

Dustin swung open the gymnasium doors far too hard and the loud bang echoed throughout the gym that had drawn the attention of the crowd. I elbow Dustin. I feel him shifting on his feet beside me as panic sets in.

"Abort." He whispers, turning to leave.

Thankfully, Lucas stops him and shoved him forward.

"We come together to heal... we come together to grieve..."

As the principle continues his speech, the five of us wander into the bleachers to find a seat.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Will Byers' death is an unimaginable tragedy. Will was an exceptional student and a wonderful friend to all of us. It's impossible to express the hole his loss will leave in our community. I'd like to introduce you to Sandy Sloane. She's a local grief counselor from the church over in Jonesboro."

While the principal carried on, the five of us all looked to each other, all sharing the same thought.

'We need to get to that radio. And soon.'

"I just want those of you who are having trouble dealing with this tragic loss..."

"Look at these fakers." I heard Mike whisper.

"They probably didn't even know his name till today." Lucas scoffed.

My head whipped to the side when I heard hushed chuckling. I wasn't surprised to see Troy and his friend as the source of the laughter. I glared daggers into them and my hands gripped the edge of my seat until I was sure my knuckles would tear.

The boys and El seemed quick to follow my gaze because soon enough, we were all leaning over glaring at them.

"Who is interested in this? This is so stupid." He laughed.

I grit my teeth as my vision filled with red.

"Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah..."

"Y/n..." Lucas warned, reaching out for my arm. I wasn't paying attention, but for some reason, I felt his hand leave my arm almost as soon as he grabbed it.

"'Oh, he was such a great student. Oh, he's going to leave a hole in the community.'" Troy mocked, beginning to fake sob.

I began to shake with rage, wanting nothing more than to stand up and scream 'fu-'

"Y/n,"

"What?!" I hissed at Lucas, my head whipping around to face him, my jaw clenched.

I saw fear in his eyes as he glanced between my eye line and my hands. I looked down at my own hands to see the dangerously strong grip on the wood. I yanked my hands off the bench and rubbed my hands together, keeping to myself.

I was shocked to see the faintest imprint of the most vaguely shaped hand on the bench. It was hardly noticeable and I had to do a double take.

'What the hell?'

El was leaning over and she met my gaze. She briefly looked at my hands, seeming to dismiss whatever thoughts she had. Then looked to Troy.

"Mouth breather." She whispered.

I let out a strained chuckle and nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, mouth breather." I whispered, looking back and Troy.

Eventually, the bell rang, dismissing the assembly. Even though Lucas and Dustin seemed to have let it go, Mike and I were not finished.

"Hey! Hey! Hey Troy." Mike called.

I could tell he could hear us because he barely slowed down but was clearly laughing. I stomped towards him and called him out, loud and clear.

"Hey, jackass!"

He stopped in his tracks and turned around. He seemed like he wanted to be mad, but almost like he was happy he got a rise out of us.

"You think that shit was funny?" My voice never wavered and the boys and El seemed just as shocked as I was feeling at my newfound courage.

"What'd you say, orphan?" He asked, dumbfounded.

He only called me that when he was really pissed at me.

"You heard me! And how many times do I have to tell you, I'm not an orphan if I was adopted, you dumbass! Now what the hell is in that tiny brain of yours that would compel you to laugh at someone dying, huh? I mean, shit, you must really be sick in the head. I feel sorry for you." I spit out my last few words, my voice dripping with malice.

By now I was in his face, finally letting out all the pent-up aggression I've harbored for years. And it felt good.

"Get the hell outta my face, freak!" He yells shoving me back.

I get ready to strike but Dustin grabs my arm before my fist can collide with Troy's face. I struggle to get free but my brother was determined to hold me back, with the help of Lucas of course.

"Control your 'brother', Toothless. Or he just might lose a few teeth of his own." He glares at me and I still attempt to break free.

Mike seems to have found his voice as all of this happened because he was the next to speak.

"H-Hey, he's right! Laughing like that? That's a pretty messed up thing to do."

Troy, glares at us as his minion speaks.

"Didn't you listen to the counselor, freaks? Grief shows itself in funny ways."

"You little shit-" I attempt once more to get a right hook in but Lucas stops me.

Troy laughs at me struggling.

"Besides, what's there to be sad about, anyway? Will's in fairyland now, right? Flying around with all the other little fairies. All happy and gay!"

Lucas loosened his grip on me, silently letting me go as Troy began dancing around, mocking Will.

I swung my fist and I felt it collide with his nose with a satisfying crack. He stumbled back and grasped his nose in surprise, he pulled his hand away to find a few drops of blood on his hands. The crowd that had gathered while all of this unfolded, gasped in surprise. I even earned some scattered cheers among the students.

I seemed to realize the consequences of my actions, but I was prepared to face them. It was worth it. I watched as he stormed towards me, blinded by fury.

"You're dead, freak!" He stomped towards me at a shocking speed and I stumbled back, bracing myself for the inevitable retaliation but it never came.

All I felt was a sudden pair of hands on my right arm, harshly pushing me out of the way. I looked in time to see it was Mike who pushed me out of the way. I gakwed in confusion at what happened next.

Troy had just begun to raise his arm as he was only inches from Mike when he froze.

He completely froze in place.

He seemed just as confused, if not more than anyone. That confusion quickly bubbled into fear as his eyes scanned the room as much as he could without moving his head.

It finally dawned on me and I spared a quick glance at El, who was laser-focused on Troy, head tilted down and the smallest hint of blood dripping from her nose. I smirked and looked back to Troy, a smug smile on my face.

I couldn't hold back the laughter as I saw his pants begin to dampen with urine. A stream of it began pooling at his leg, and it even soaked into his socks and shoes. Other students caught on quickly and one boy in particular, began laughing.

"Dude, Troy peed himself!"

The circle of kids erupted into laughter as Troy stood frozen in a puddle of his own pee. I turned to El, who wore a devilish smirk on her face as she glanced between Mike and me. She quickly wiped her nose and started walking away. The boys and I enjoyed this brief moment of bliss.

"Hey! What is going on here?" The principle shouted.

"Come on!" I whisper, gesturing for the boys who all had the same idea. Before people could start asking questions we grouped together and made our way to the AV room unnoticed.

[bigskydreaming]

You're asked to choose one and only one or DC's future stops existing immediately. your choices:

1. Jason Todd the anti-hero who seldom works with only a couple of the bats he doesn't hate, for example Dick and Cass VS. Jason Todd who came back with healed body but broken spirit, folded back into the Gotham gang and learns to be part of the society again.

2. Tim Drake who makes all of his mistakes as canon but realizes he's been wrong and apologizes to people VS. Tim Drake back in his first iteration, a cute little brother character who is a reader insert and a fun teenager.

3. JayKyle VS DickKyle.

4. Jason Todd with a sword VS. Damian Wayne with a sword.

5. Chris Kent VS. Jon kent.

Okay but which DC future? Its omniversal future? Its hypertime future? Its multiversal future? Its Elseworlds future? Its dark multiverse future? Mwahahaha your threat is useless because the sheer wtf of DC's continuities, timelines and conflicting declarations of what to even call their multiomnihyperverse makes it impossible to target simply A future! DC's overly unnecessarily complicated nature renders it functionally immortal and impossible to ever truly destroy, take that Darkseid.

I mean. But anyway. Whatevs:

1) I honestly do prefer the idea of Jason someday fully reuniting/reintigrating into the Batfam as a whole, because fuck it, the found family I'm here for is the one where they actually act like a family....I just think it takes actual work to get to that point and I get irey when people are like we're here! We found it! And its like meanwhile, abusive dynamics still abound. Mmm. No thank you. But even though I've been on a huge Jason and Dick and Cass kick for like, forever, I do still aim for him having a dynamic of his own with the rest of the family.

Like the thing is, I hate playing the favorites card in families, and I think the emphasis on so and so being Bruce's favorite child or so and so being this kid's favorite sibling, etc, like it really does feel like to the detriment of the whole family, because once you start validating the idea of favorites, ESPECIALLY in a found family that is CONTINUOUSLY growing....I think you're kinda shooting yourself in the foot because you're kinda creating a situation where either no future new additions to the family can EVER be Bruce or one of the kids' 'favorite' or else you're innately positing that said fave status is conditional and even a current fave of Bruce or a sibling can be bumped down the ladder by the addition of a later arrival....

Which is LITERALLY the entire essence of the eternal conflict between Dick and Damian and Tim fans. Its not even that Damian is Dick's favorite, allegedly, its that prior to Damian's very EXISTENCE, fans felt comfortable declaring Tim unilaterally to be Dick's 'favorite'.....and then all it took was the addition of a single family member who had specific NEEDS in regards to Dick's attention and focus, largely because of his age and needing a legal guardian while Tim was old enough to literally jet set around the world on his own.....and like, everything went up in flames in large corners of fandom.

So I'm just like, death to the fave family member myth, its just incredibly counter productive to the idea of found family as a whole especially when it usually only exists to prop up a preferred character as better than others via the proof of see, these other characters say he's their fave or whatever...but also like, its not even necessary?

Because the thing is, you can have Jason reintegrated into the whole family overall, and still prioritize your personal narrative FOCUS on characters you like more than others, like say Dick and Cass.....because of course its natural for even people in the same family to have entirely different DYNAMICS with different family members....and these dynamics don't have to come with a ranking system in order to prioritize which ones you just focus on more in a story. Because its not necessarily that Dick has to be Jason's fave brother, y'know, just for Jason to prefer spending time with Dick simply because he's more comfortable with him due to knowing him longer or being more secure in the idea that Dick doesn't judge him based on their greater shared history.

This doesn't mean that Jason doesn't care for his other siblings, that he can't have strong dynamics with them as well, its just about finding a reason for why these two specifically might be in a story without the others that doesn't demand putting a definitive ranking on which one Jason considers his FAVE. Just like Damian doesn't have to be Dick's FAVE just for them to have the super close canon relationship they have, even relative to the other siblings, because there's everything needed in canon already to establish that the mere fact of Dick essentially RAISING Damian for a year, and being the first one in the family to really take a chance on Damian, like, this lends itself naturally to them maybe more naturally gravitating towards each other than other siblings due to comfort level and familiarity, etc, but it doesn't have to be like....oh but yeah, I just like Damian more than you, Tim, y'know?

So my answer on this one is a total cop out of both, both is good. Jason totally reintegrated back into the family, but with dynamics that still lend themselves fairly easily towards story lineups where its just him running missions with Dick or Duke or any other one or two specific family members even if for no other reason than they gel together best in the field, y'know?

2) Hmm. I honestly really do love and miss 90s Tim Drake and just....don't see him in a lot of what I read these days. I'm like no, why did he have to go, he was doing so well! BUT I'm also on a big accountability kick, and like, I'm so steeped in fics where Dick GROVELS for forgiveness for every little slight he's ever done real or imagined, with every character but Tim in particular, so its like.....I'm not gonna lie, I really have a preference these days for seeing stuff where its literally anyone actually owning up to shit they've done to Dick and apologizing or groveling or making it to HIM, like, completely unconditionally. In the same manner we usually see Dick apologizing, glossing over any reasons he might have had for doing what he did or feeling the way he did, and saying oh it doesn't matter, putting the entirety of his focus on what HE did and why it was wrong no matter what and he's sorry.....that's what I would kill to see from more fics, just in reverse.

Because so often even in the all too rare fics where we DO see other characters apologizing to Dick for shit, its watered down with Dick volunteering that oh he messed up too, it was a two way street, and its like no! This is Pettiness Hours! I want the unconditional apologies! Give me the groveling! From anyone, I don't care at this point, lol, just show me characters actually PUTTING IN THE WORK to make it up to Dick for harm they've caused him, even if completely unintentionally or via neglecting his feelings or considering the repercussions their actions or words would have on him. Aaaaaaand, frankly, Tim's a good place to start there, because of how one sided all the takes on their conflicts have been for so many years. I mean, if people need a place to start, Batman and Robin Eternal gets enough praise it can't be pretended that people in fandom don't know that story exists, so how about some stories where Tim says he's fucking sorry for punching Dick in issue #4 or #5 of that one, and it was uncalled for and he was clearly just looking for an excuse to unleash some more of his resentment and upset for the Spyral/Forever Evil stuff, and family deciding that its totally okay to punch Dick whenever they're mad at him and need to work off some aggression so they can then finally forgive him (for now) is a trend that needs to die in a fire post-haste? I mean just as an example.

But the thing that kills me about fanfic trends is like....the sameness of so much of it. There's SO much room for variety and diverse takes, and like....I don't actually hate Tim! I'm just cranky because of the imbalanced nature of most content out there for literal years at this point. Push the pendulum BACK in the other direction, create some balance by showing the flip side of things.....and that leaves a lot more room for me and others of like minds to then be more amenable to - and even interested in - other stories that don't scratch this particular itch, but don't need to, because other stories are doing the scratching by then, y'know?

And THEN like, at that point, I would be ALL FOR more stories that are just callbacks to classic 90s Tim who I adore, with his skateboarding and his EARNESTNESS and his go-get-em spirit and also the gumption. All the gumption. I like that Tim. I do miss that Tim. But like, for the moment, like, I want accountable Tim because I am tiiiiiiiired of groveling Dick and tbh at this point its not enough for me to just see people move past putting Dick in that position and just have mutually respective and doting brothers Dick and Tim having adventures together......nah, first I want some reciprocation. Ngl. Gimme the apologies for actual mistakes actually made.

3) DickKyle. Easy question, c'mon, you gotta know that. LOL. ;)

But yeah, I've been shipping these two off their like, two shared pages from way back in the Obsidian Age story years before Jason even returned, let alone was in Countdown together with Kyle, so like, its no contest. I don't mind JayKyle, I certainly prefer it to JayRoy tbh, but there's not a ton of appeal in it for me, particularly in how its usually depicted, because like....the entire basis of JayKyle is that they DO have stories together and spent a whole year worth of weekly issues traveling the multiverse together in Countdown.....but there's like, practically no trace of their actual dynamics from that series or any specifics of literally any issue from that entire comic in most fics I’ve read, so its like.....idk, it tends to come across as more generic, not in the sense that it cant still be interesting, but more in the sense that it feels like just someone paired with Jason just because history between them EXISTS without any interest in exploring what that history actually IS....and at that point, its like, well there's no reason TO prioritize that ship over DickKyle for me personally, when like, I have a shit ton of headcanon reasons for why those two in a pairing specifically. *Shrugs* My logic. Its not for everyone, but it works for me.

4) Jason with a sword or Damian with a sword? I don't understand the question. Both. Both is good. All the characters should have swords. Swords are awesome.

5) Chris Kent vs Jon Kent - oof. I adore Jon, I really do. I love his dynamic with Damian, I love a lot of their specific stories, the parallels between them as friends and Bruce and Clark as friends....its all very bien. But I gotta give this one to Chris, because I'm always gonna have a soft spot for him because I'm a sucker for all abused kid heroes, and I just miss that funky little dude so much. There's so many stories we didn't get with him and were just ripe for the picking, but nooooo, DC's like lol you can't have nice things, here we just rebooted the entire multiverse and now Clark and Lois never adopted the son of Clark's worst Kryptonian rival and raised him with tender love and care awww does that make you sad, were you invested in him, WELL TOO BAD, HE'S GONE NOW AND BASICALLY NEVER EXISTED, NOW GIVE US YOUR MONEY ANYWAY MWAHAHAHAHAH.

Yeah. I'm still not over that. Probably will never be tbh, so I with great grudge-bearing do affirm that I'm gonna go with Chris on this one and like, he is a Priority for me and I'm still very keen on the idea of him and Duke being besties for random reasons that might not make sense to anyone but me, but eh, whatever.

[ethanhuntfemmefatale]

i appreciate you guys although im pretty sure both of you have heard this rant before. im not gonna talk about this in anything approaching eloquence or detail or even explanation i just need to get some of this emotion out of my brain

family of rogues is an episode of television that is honestly fun but fairly mid on a pretty bad show called the Flash. it rewrote me from the ground up when i was like 13 and every so often i rewatch it and go oh right thats why im like that because this episode rewrote me from the ground up. It features Leonard Snart and his sister Lisa Snart, aka Captain Cold and the Golden Glider, and explores their relationship with their father Lewis. Honestly Lisa's relationship with Lewis is not thematically central in the episode in nearly the same way as Leonard's, which i blame the show for and i wish i could have seen she and her father interact on screen ONCE. sighs. but we do get the line "i didnt get this scar being a criminal i got it being a daughter"

which wormed its way into my brain as a kid and never let go

"he said he was teaching us lessons," she says. "i must have been a slow learner, because the lessons never stuck"

lisa is the introduction to the abuse plot, but it's explored in a much more interesting way IMO through the interactions of father and son. Basic plot, lewis has put a bomb in his daughter and used it to blackmail his son into helping him pull off a heist. His son decided to agree, and didnt inform his sister of this, or anyone else--this is quite typical of him--leonard is a control freak to the bone. Lisa, left in the dark, panics thinking he's been kidnapped and goes to the Flash team for help.

so the flash goes to talk to Leonard. leonard predictably continues to not explain anything to anyone. he says: this is none of your business. barry says: yes it is--if you're doing a heist, innocent people are going to get hurt.

a lot here! i love (hate) the way the flash fucks with the idea of civilians to mean 'people worth saving', equates cops and heroes, and treats criminals as automatically subhuman ...thats a topic for another rant...it's actually kind of interesting to me the way that Barry uses civilian life as an excuse here, though. he obviously wants to know what is going on, but he doesnt have an easy motivation to reach for according to his own philosophies, which dictate that leonard isn't deserving of his help. im getting distracted. the most important aspect of this scene is leonard bringing up the deal he and barry made the season before-- leonard agreeing to a no kill rule basically as a matter of professional pride (brief aside i love the way that this episode links lewis' killing streak to his own incompetence). leonard invokes the no-kill deal here, saying he'll make sure no one dies. his personal no-kill rule extended to his father, who leonard believes he can take responsibility over, and control and keep in line. leonard snart professional control freak exhibit B.

the next scene, leonard's father kills a man while he watches.

lewis, leonard, and their tech guy, unnamed (guess who's gonna die) meet to go over blueprints and plan the world's dumbest heist (said with love) that gets executed later in the episode. tensions run high. at one point, lewis goes to pat leonard on the shoulder and leonard steps back, avoiding the touch. the tech guy senses the animosity between them and starts insulting leonard, hoping to bond with lewis--instead, lewis pulls out a switch and explodes the bomb implanted in the tech guy's head. the same bomb that he stuck in the neck of his daughter.

he says, 'no one talks that way to my son.'

you know. sighs. do i even need to talk about it. intimidation disguised as love. and through the whole thing the realization on leonard's face that he cannot control his father. he cannot stop him from killing. the promises he made to barry are moot because he is helpless here. and he can't save lisa.

the next scene, barry discovers the tech guy's body, leading to another one of my favorite batshit interactions of the episode, where barry pieces together that there must be a bomb in Lisa, that Lewis must be using it to blackmail Leonard into working with him. his reasoning? if Lewis had planted one in leonard and tried to blackmail him that way, Leonard would have dug it out of his own head himself.

SIGHS.

leonard snart professional control freak exhibit C...with a side of his particular brand of neurotic self destruction. "the only thing snart cares about is his sister," barry says, and its not actually strictly true even at that point, but i like the way it's used here to show the way leonard's few close relationships are desperately dependent and intense.

so the flash team starts working on getting the bomb out. meanwhile, the heist goes down. it's the stupidest heist ever. at the crucial moment, lewis pulls out the kill switch for Lisa and orders leonard to kill barry. the flash team is working down to the last second to get the bomb out of lisa's neck. barry tells leonard lisa's safe, and leonard turns and fires on his dad.

patricide! on my screen!

leonard snart professional control freak exhibit D.

the whole reason leonard becomes captain cold in the first place is because he meets the Flash, something that exists outside of his frame of reference and outside of his control. it drives him crazy. so he gets the cold gun, figures out barry's secret identity, does everything in order to get that feeling of power back. at the beginning of the episode, leonard is operating under the delusion that he knows how to manage his father, that he can "work" him and keep everyone safe and it will all be all right--lewis proves over and over that that isn't the case. so leonard kills him.

it's not how leonard rationalizes it to himself. leonard believes he did it for lisa, and i think that's the case, actually--i think that leonard needs control because he needs to keep lisa safe--i think regardless of whether lisa is in danger, leonard needs control because he needs to keep lisa safe. There's a strong child's instinct in him that says if he isn't in control all the time, he and his little family of Lisa and Mick will get hurt or die, and also the world will end.

anyway thats my family of rogues rant. if you ever wanted to know why i am like this this episode of television is why i am like this.

rewatching family of rogues again. they were crazy for this

[soukokuwu]

I just binge-read all your writing, you're a gift to this fandom! Thank you for doing what you do. How about a scenario for Dazai when the ADA's trying to track down a criminal and he realizes too late that the criminal's targeting his s/o, who as far as he knows has no fighting ability whatsoever, and sent a group of thugs after her. He rushes off to her thinking it's too late, but when he arrives he sees that she killed them all with just a knife? (She's actually a super trained fighter.) ILY!

It's the anon with the request about Dazai finding that his s/o killed the group of thugs sent to kill her. I'm sorry - I should have clarified this earlier, but she's not just a really trained fighter, she's also used to killing so she's super calm about it. Once again, thank you!

➥ genre: fluff

➥ pairing: dazai x reader

➥ warning: very slight gore

➥ word count: 1.5k

➥ a/n: this took a while i’m so sorry i hope you’re still here 😿 & thank you so much for your kind words!! hope you like this anony ily~

Takes two to tango

Rarely is Dazai Osamu ever surprised. It almost never happens. And yet, you are once again the anomaly.

The sight in front of him is that of a bloody massacre. Blood splattered against the brick walls of the alley, barely a spot spared from the red liquid is the grey concrete road below your feet. What people would consider a horrific sight, Dazai considers absolutely beautiful.

A sight to behold — that you are.

There, atop the pile of unsightly bodies, all still and lifeless, you stand like an absolute beauty — or so it seems to Dazai. Your hair in a ponytail still flowing in the breeze, a sheen of sweat glistening your face and the look of utter effortlessness painted on your features.

“You’re a fucking monster!”

Ah, the last remaining survivor of the enemy organisation.

Dazai could very well step out of the shadows and reveal himself, save you the trouble of having to dispose of the man, but he is curious. He wants to see just what his lover is capable of doing to this one. He only made it in time to see the others already dead — he wants to admire the process behind your work.

It’s much like a child discovering a new toy — no, finding out their existing plaything has features they didn’t know existed. Dazai is amazed, interested, entranced by you as you move to the man’s side in an instant, the blade of your dagger swiftly slashing across the pale flesh of his neck with expert precision, right before he drops to the ground, contributing to the red pool of blood staining the floor.

Can you see him in the shadows? No, you don’t need to see him. You already know he’s there, don’t you? Someone with that much skill, that much knife work — he doubts that your senses would equal that of an ordinary civilian’s. But still he waits, testing you, wanting to know just how good you are.

Just how did this slip past him? How has he never realised it before?

And as you turn back, your eyes meet his. He doesn’t see the normal warmth behind them anymore — not this time. This time, he sees only vacancy; a void of emotions, something he’s used to seeing, not in other people but only in the mirror.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

They say that eyes are the windows to your soul.

Dazai doesn’t believe it. Not one bit. Especially now that he’s seen you assassinate someone with his very own eyes. But it takes him back to that day. That first day he met you. Not because they look exactly the same, but because they look the exact opposite.

It was what captured his attention in the first place; the way they smiled, how they twinkled in the orange of the sunset as they locked with his. And yet, mixed in with the vibrancy is something that Dazai couldn’t quite place — a darkness or a void.

Maybe that’s why he’s attracted to you, why he felt on edge around you. It’s not like how he would usually feel around others, most of his time being spent around members of the agency where their records are squeaky clean and out in the open. It’s easy to find out about everyone. Everyone but you.

The two of you tread around the subject like you were dancing a tango. Whether it was good or bad was debatable. Dazai would lead, asking vague questions first, in hopes to just ease you into the harder ones. But you always answer in a way that doesn’t give anything away. Still in harmony, but never completely in-sync. These conversations were always a vibrant and playful dance between the two of you; he was always on his toes.

A certain part of him knows that he got together with you because of that mystery. It intrigued him that much; how elusive you are. He didn’t notice though, how over time his focus has shifted. From wanting to find out your identity to wanting to actually get to know you. From doing things out of obligation to doing it because he actually wants to. He didn’t realise it, until he was in too deep.

And he thought maybe, maybe, he didn’t need to know. Besides, how bad could it be? Dazai has a tainted past himself, yours couldn’t be worse than his was, could it?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Worry often casts a big shadow over a small matter.

That shadow consumed Dazai earlier — the moment he realised that their target was you all along. Every inch of their makeshift headquarters was filled with photos and information of Dazai himself, as well as you. But the red circle is marked on your face.

Dazai was the end goal, and you’d be the bait.

Of course, no one knew what you were capable of at that point. Not Dazai and least of all the enemy.

He was alone, and he wasn’t the best fighter, but he’d be damned if he let anyone touch you. So without so much as a call to his partner who had been investigating elsewhere, he rushed out to hail a cab. Dazai vowed to save you, no matter how many of them he’d have to kill.

3.47pm

Your shift would end soon. As cunning as the enemy was, they wouldn’t be able to attack you in a packed café. They weren’t that stupid to put more tails on themselves. Dazai had thirteen minutes to reach you.

3.55pm

“Could you please step on the gas?”

Dazai’s exasperation was clear as day.

“I don’t control the traffic, boy.”

So was the cab driver’s.

4.02pm

The cab finally rounded the corner and the café came into view — Dazai couldn’t even wait for the driver to stop. Money was thrown into the front of the cab and he bolted out the door, past the café and dipped into the alley you always took for a faster path home.

And there he found you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

They say the greatest beauty comes from the greatest clarity.

In this moment, in the current present, Dazai is inching just a little closer to that beauty. There is meaning to that emptiness in your eyes — and he knows it all too well. How can one afford emotions when it is one’s duty to kill?

All his worry dissolves the moment he saw you wielding that knife with the finesse of a well-seasoned assassin. And now he has only one concern, the same one he’s had since he first met you: who are you?

“Aren’t you going to ask me?”

Your voice echoes in the empty alley, your fingers rubbing the blood stains off your knife with one of the poor victim’s jackets before settling it back in its holster, hidden under your dress, attached to your thigh. And as you walk towards him, Dazai sees that hint of spark in your eye — the radiance.

“What does it matter? You aren’t going to tell me the whole truth.”

But Dazai’s voice doesn’t carry a hint of malice. Just a pinch of surprise and a dash of admiration. It isn’t easy for anyone to hide anything from him. And if it wasn’t for the enemy, he would probably never have figured out you were an assassin.

“I will tell you one thing, though,” you relent as you reach him, snaking an arm around his shoulder and pressing your forehead to his.

Dazai gives a low chuckle, his hands wrapping themselves around your waist. You are definitely a dangerous one, that he knows. “And what is that, my belladonna?”

You open your eyes wider this time, and Dazai is yet again, surprised. “I don’t mix business with pleasure.”

He can’t spot any hint of that darkness he’s used to seeing when he looks into your eyes everyday. No, this time your eyes exude earnesty — is this you being completely honest?

“And I’m supposed to just trust you, now?”

Dazai still isn’t exhibiting any hostility — because he doesn’t feel the need to. He doesn’t feel like you’re disguising anything behind those words. And if there’s anybody he trusts, it’s himself.

“You want to, don’t you?”

Your voice carries an absolute confidence, and Dazai is fairly impressed. How insightful you are. No matter how much he wants to deny it, he can’t. Even if he does, you’d see through this at least.

“Ah, my beautiful belladonna—” he gives you a quick peck on the lips — “is there anything that escapes you?”

But of course there is, and you both know it. As much as you are a mystery, Dazai is an enigma. Your occupation is a conundrum, and so is everything that makes Dazai who he is. And even so, you both let it slide, because as time drones on, there is one thing that glues you together.

It is not love, no. You’re not there yet. It’s an unspeakable feeling that attaches you to him, and him to you. Something that neither of you can put into words, yet have so much faith in in spite of that. And as questionable as the both of you find this relationship, you find that you can’t quite let go.

[adrianasunderworld]

🧡Dragon!RaihanxReader🧡

Drakes Keep

The townspeople live in fear of the dragon in the forest and have decided to make you the sacrifice to save them all. But perhaps the dragon isnt something to fear after all.

      This was how it ends. You thought to yourself as night descended. The only sound was the occasional breeze rustling the branches or the distant howl of a dog. You tried once again in vain to wriggle from the rope that kept you tied to the tree. Letting the back of your head hit the trunk with a thump, you bit your lip and finally allowed yourself to cry. This really was the end. 

       A dragons supper, that was your fate. The creature that called the abandoned castle home had returned, and the fear of what it could do had sent the townspeople into hysterics. Turning to the old ways once more to keep it appeased. Unfortunately for you, that had meant you were the one tossed to the beast. The old stories spoke of fair maidens and kings sons bravely sacrificing themselves for the better of others. But of course no one wanted to send their beloved children to death. But you? Orphaned and thieving,___? No one opposed that. And now you stood, hands bound to a tree as close to the Drakes Keep as they dared to bring you, waiting for death. 

     Night had finally fallen. The sound of crickets and the skittish steps of a rabbit your only company. Then as suddenly as it started, the forest was quiet and still as a grave. Even the breeze that blew the branches seemed to stop. Then the snap was heard. Then another. The crunch of leaves as if something heavy was being dragged across the ground. Then you saw it, a pair of teal blue eyes peeking out from between the trees. Tears continued to stream down your face as you locked gazes with the creature that would end. 

     "Just make it quick," you managed to choke out, throat raw from your sobbing. Not even sure if the beast could even understand you. "Please, be fast, that's all I ask."

     The dragon finally moved. It slowly stepped out of the darkness and you could see it in it's full view. It's dark midnight scales almost blended into the night, in stark contrast to the golden scales that went up its stomach and throat. It tilted its triangular head curiously as it examined its food. Your eyes snapped shut as it got closer and closer, until you felt the hot breath of your face. The wet sound of its jaws opening was heard, and you could not help but scream.

      Then the ropes went slack.

      "Relax." said a deep voice. "I wont do anything." 

     Opening your eyes, the dragon looked down at you, spitting out a piece of rope. "I...I… I dont understand." You shuddered out, wiping you tear stained face. "You arent going to eat me?"

     The dragon rolled its eyes. "Honestly, what's with these villagers and thinking I want to eat people? Of course not." 

     You removed the last bits of rope around your wrist, glancing at the dragon all the while. It wasn't going to kill you. What did it want? "So…" you began cautiously. "What now? 

       "What do you mean what now?"

       "If I'm not a meal, then what was the point of sacrifices? What is it that you want from the village."

       "Nothing." The dragon replied as if it should have been plain as day. "I never wanted any sacrifices ever. I untie them and let them go. I don't want anything from your village." 

       "But… but…" you stammered. "The missing livestock. And all those old stories about a dragon that burned the town centuries ago!"

      "My grandpa," the dragon replied. "Dont remember much about him, other than he was an old grouch. But that was a couple decades before I was even bored. as for livestock, sorry to say I was hungry. Large game have been scarce. Not my first choice, but you gotta do what you gotta do. Now," the dragon leaned down and sniffed at you, its warm breath blowing at your hair. "Who are you?"

       "-_" you stammered. 

      "And why, ___… did they decide to pick you to feed it the beast?"

      You looked down, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. "No one wanted me." You answered honestly. "They were glad to have me gone."

        The dragon sniffed once more, like a hunting hound committing a scent to memory. There was the sound of thunder out in the distance. "Well, you're free of them now." Was his only reply. "Theres another town just south of here." He pointed a claw to his left. "I can only guess you wouldn't want to go back from where you came."

     You looked back between the direction the men who had tied up went,then the dragon, then to the direction he pointed. "So...so you'll let me go? Just like that?" 

     "Just like that." He assured.

It seemed too easy. The dragon letting you go and free to start a new life far far away.  The sound of thunder drew a little closer, and with it the wind returned to rustle the trees. You shivered. They had taken your cloak when you were arrested, and obviously did not bother to give it back when you had been left to die.

     The dragon seemed to take note of this, and tilted his head curiously. "What's the matter?"

      "Cold." You admitted. "Since I can leave, do you happen to know where I could sleep for the night?"

      The dragon eyed you once more and sniffed again as if looking for something of offense. When it seemed he did not find it, the dragon turned and nodded his head towards the direction he had come. "Follow me."

      "You know my name," you said as you followed the creature further into the forest. "What's yours?"

     "Raihan." He replied. "The Great Raihan."

    "Who calls you that?" You asked,trying hard not to snort.

    "Plenty of people." He said, twigs and leaves crunching under heavy feet. "I'll have you know, I have met many a knight and king that called me a great dragon."

     "What kings? Anyone I might have heard of?"

    "All sorts," he assured. "King Lance of Kanto. Queen Cynthia of Sinnoh. And most recently, your king Leon here in Galar."

     "So tell me then, great dragon Raihan, why are you out here in the back water forests outside of my nowhere village?"

    "Just as birds migrate, so do dragons." He explained. "We go from place to place, seeking spots of comfort to rest. Making a new home for ourselves or going to old ones."

    "I take it this is an old home then?"

   "Very old." He finally stopped and gestured to an ancient stone structure. With its half crumbled towers and vine covered parapets. "Very old indeed."

   "I've only ever heard of this place." You said in awe as you walked up the stone steps of the ancient castle. "My grandmother used to tell me about the dragons lair. She and all the other elders called it The Drakes Keep."

     "That's what you humans call it, yes." Raihan replied, pushing his large scaly body against the giant oak doors to open them. "But the true name of this place is Hammerlocke. Hammerlocke Castle."

     Walking into the grand entrance, Hammerlocke caslte was oddly well kept for not having a human inhabitant for centuries. Aside from the few cracks in the stone from age, the floor was clean of dirt and debris. There was even decorative tapestries that still adorned the walls. 

     Raihan pushed against the doors once more to shut them firmly, keeping the cold out. Then you realized something.

     "Um… not to sound rude or anything. But this doesn't look like a living space, and the doorways look far too small for you." 

     "Good observation. Sadly, castle life isn't very accommodating to this form."

     "Form?"

     Instead of elaborating, Raihan showed you what he had meant. In a flash of light you saw the large creature shrink down and take the form of a very tall and very handsome young man. He stretched out and let out a sigh. "Yes form." He grinned at your shocked expression. "There are many things about dragons you don't know."  

      It turned out dragons were very hospitable. Raihan had kept the fire in the sitting room going with ease, making warmer than you had ever known. He had a sorts of finery stashed away, including good coats and blankets of the softest materials. He had explained it was in a dragons to hoard things of great interest or value. Despite that he may not have a need fancy furs to keep him warm or nice bottles of wine, they were still soft to lay on and tasty to drink, and so he kept them. 

      "I'm still surprised dragons can take human form." You commented, swaddled up nicely in the furs Raihan had loaned you, stomach full of the food he had gathered the other day.

      "Oh yes, we are creatures of magic. Dragons,unicorns, the various breeds of fae." He took a sip from the golden goblet he poured the wine into. Unlike you he seemed to not be feeling the effects of it. "We were created by magic, neither human nor animal. So we are free to choose whichever form we please."

       "Do you appear human often?" 

       He shrugged. "I'd say it's fairly even. There is a time and a place for my true form, and I do enjoy visiting cities and what not, and that only really can be done like this." He gestured to his human form. 

       "I was always told dragons would sit in caves on piles of gold. Seeking princesses and young knights to drag away. Never that they like to be tourists."

       "Everyone is different." He said. "Truth be told, all those stories are rather old fashioned. Me? I like humans. Well...some of you." He flashed you a grin, seeming to imply you were one of the likeable ones. "I suppose I've always been a rather curious one. When I was a hatchling, I would sneak off to town and play with local children."

        "Now that does not surprise me," you said playfully while returning his grin. "You strike me as the sort who was a little scamp when they were young."

      "Oh trust me, you are not far off." He chuckled. "My parents could do nothing to keep me away. Everywhere we went, I sought out people, and when I was grown I went all over. I learned to read in many of your human tongues. Learned histories of every land I could. Befriended as many as I could."

      "That sounds amazing," you said wistfully. The life he described sounded like it could have only existed in a novel. You had never been able to venture out past the borders of the village. "I envy you, Raihan. I've never known such freedom." 

      "Well now you can." He replied. "All those townspeople think you won't return. You can start somewhere else."

      Looking down at your own golden cup, your reflection stared back in the red wine. Never go back...that certainly was not the problem. They would not miss you, and you would not miss them. But what kind of life could you have out there? "I doubt wherever I go will be much better."

      "And why is that?"

      "...Once a thieving urchin, always a thieving urchin." You said with all the resentment in you. That brand had followed you over half your life, and odds are it would follow you to the grave.

       "I take it that's why they tied you up to be sacrificed." Looking up, Raihans face portrayed no emotion. Part of you wondered if now he was disgusted knowing he let a thief in here, or maybe he pitied you. Honestly you weren't sure which would feel worse.

        You nodded. "When I was ten, my parents died. My grandmother long gone years before. My father's shop had caught fire, you see. And suddenly I was an orphan. No money, no home, no family. No one wanted to help. I had nothing, and so to the townspeople I was nothing.I did the only thing I could do: I stole to keep myself alive. I was arrested now and then, but I always got out. But the more I did it, the better I was at not getting caught. Well, until recently. And I think you know how that went." 

         "I wish I could say this is the first I've heard something like this, but it does seem like a sad reality to humans."  Raihans face then turned to concern as he reached out to put a hand in your shoulder. It wasn't until the tears were welling in your eyes a moment later did you realize it was because you were on the verge of crying. The events of today finally sinking in. Then he added. "But that doesn't mean you cant move on from it. Trust me, I've lived long enough to know what I'm talking about. Some of the best people I've known have lead similar beginnings to yours. I know it must feel awful now, but it'll get better. I promise."

      "You can't promise anything." You said, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "What am I going to do in this new town? All I know is how to steal. I'll just end up back where I was."

      "I mean, you could add some flare." He said jokingly. "I'd say you'd make a handsome jewel thief that steals hearts along the way." 

      You couldn't help but snort. "That is absolutely ridiculous." 

      "It's merely a suggestion." He grinned. "All I'm saying is why not have some fun with your self fulfilling prophecy?" 

      You paused for a moment. "...What was it like? When you first left to travel?"

     "A bit frightful." He admitted. "But exciting. Often times lonely."

     "Lonely?"

     Raihan nodded. "Yes, dragons, though we live long, are few and far between. Besides my family, it would be a few years before I saw another of my kind. Those stories you talked about of maidens in towers, I can assure you the reason was never malicious. Those drakes did it more for companionship than anything else."

      "You make it sound like you speak from experience."

      "Well…"

      "Raihan, you didn't!"

      "Oh I assure you ___," he smirked like an absolute cad and winked. "All princesses under my protection were there willingly.  And treated very well, if I do say so myself." Your face flushed at what he was implying, and Raihan bursted out laughing.

      After a moment you began to laugh as well. It had been so long since you could sit like this and be friendly with anyone. Raihan was so good natured, it felt like it would be a challenge not to like him. "Are you going to stay in this castle long?" You asked. Wondering if it would be forward to ask if you could visit him from time to time after parting ways.

      "For a few weeks," he said, taking a long drink from his goblet. "Then off to Wyndon."

      "Wyndon? As in the capital city Wyndon?"

       "The one and only. Off to visit a friend for the spring."

      Part of you felt a bit disappointed for him to be leaving so soon. "I hope you enjoy it, " you said,meaning it. "I admit, I'll miss your company."

     "Then dont miss me."

     "What?"

     "Come with me, I could use a travel companion."

     "What would I possibly do in Wyndon?" Even as you said it, your mind raced with the possibilities. You had only heard in passing of the great city where King Leon held court. Of its beautiful building and the wealth of opportunities to be found there.

      "What couldn't you do?" He replied. "The better question is what do you have to lose? Be my travel buddy, ___. See lands beyond this forest. Hear languages you've never heard. Rub elbows with royalty. If you don't like it I can drop you off in that village south of here, how does that sound? Unless of course you're considering being a heartbreaking jewel thief. In which case I wholeheartedly endorse your decision."

        You thought it over and over. Be a dragons companion. Go to the capital and regions beyond. Or go to some other backwater town and possibly live in the mud once more. It wasn't a very hard decision. "I'll take you up on that offer."

       Raihan smiled, a small fang poking at his bottom lip. He tapped his golden cup against yours. "Cheers. We ride in two weeks time."

[high-functioning-lokipath]

SH - Sherlock & Mycroft Friendship/Brotherly Bonding - Prompt: Holmes brothers as kids, Myc being a good brother, playing the deduction game. - Words: 1,715

WARNING: MYCROFT IS A BIT NOT GOOD AT THE BEGINNING. THIS IS NOT MYCROFT HATE THO! ALSO, DEVIL CHILDREN WHO DON'T LIKE SHERLOCK MAKE AN APPEARANCE. IT DOES END WELL THOUGH.

That being said, I guess I should add a Trigger Warning for bullying.

I do hope you enjoy the story! Let us know!

"You simply are not trying hard enough, Sherlock! It's quite obvious!" Mycroft yelled. The Holmes brothers were standing in the living room in 221B. Mycroft had decided to pay his brother an in-person visit rather than just turning on the security camera he'd installed. Sherlock had decided to ask Mycroft to play the deduction game with him over a cup of tea. Sherlock was rarely so cordial with Mycroft thus Mycroft was, not that he'd admit it, concerned that something was wrong. He realized he'd miscalculated greatly (again, he'd never admit that) when, only an hour later, a shouting match had ensued.

"Really? Obvious? You're bloody insane, Mycroft! That solution is simply not possible!" Sherlock yelled, dressing gown swishing dramatically as he waved about.

"Look at the facts little brother. We've eliminated the rest. And what do we say about what remains?" Mycroft attempted to bring his voice back down to it's normal, placating, patronizing tones.

"Must be the truth," Sherlock replied, hanging his head low as he finally came to rest on the couch. Mycroft briefly, and rather guiltily, pictured Sherlock as a whipped puppy tucking its tail between its legs. He hadn't intended to hurt his brother so, but the damage was done.

'Nothing worse than past fights,' Mycroft thought. 'He'll recover in a few hours.' He decided not to reconcile at the moment as that could quite easily be taken as caring. 'Sherlock knows I care about him, I just don't want to appear too soft,' Mycroft justified mentally.

"Very good, Sherlock," He said aloud. "I understand you couldn't see it my way today. Perhaps one day you'll be able to think clearly about things." Mycroft turned to walk away. "Perhaps once your brain recovers from your last overdose. Maybe then it will return to acceptable functionality."

'Why did I tack that last jab on?' Mycroft wondered. 'Perhaps I really am becoming too calloused.' He shrugged off the thoughts for the moment as he got in his usual black limousine for the ride home.

Back in 221B, Sherlock sat crying on the sofa for some time. Soft whimpers of "Myc" fell from his lips occasionally. Eventually, he fell asleep, although not a restful one.

"William! Come outside! It's a perfect day to explore!" Sherlock's mind palace had conjured up the memory he was trying so hard to forget. He saw everything so clearly though. Mycroft, still as proper as ever, yet this Mycroft was more free, more innocent. About 14 years old and just under 5' 7", Mycroft had already adopted most of the personality that would stick with him for the rest of his life. Sherlock was seeing his memory as though it was a movie he could walk through. He didn't see it from his 7 year old point of view. Rather, he watched on the sidelines. He looked around and found himself in the backyard of their childhood home. Mycroft was examining a particularly bright patch of flowers by the corner of the house. Some of them had been crushed, others torn up.

'The old tabby cat,' Sherlock remembered fondly. 'Mrs. O'Malley did always let that cat wander too much.'

"I'm coming, Mycie!" Sherlock heard behind him. Turning about he saw himself, right at 4' tall, running out of the house to join his brother.

"Tell me, William," Mycroft said. "How do you think these flowers were destroyed?"

"The old tabby cat, Mycie! That's easy! Find me something harder!" His 7 year old self exclaimed. Mycroft smiled approvingly and patted little Sherlock's shoulder.

'I can't seem to recall why he ever stopped calling me William,' Sherlock thought. Shaking his head in his dream, he chuckled silently. He knew he would remember, but his mind was attempting to fool him.

"Timothy Lexington," Mycroft called out, tossing a frisbee to young Sherlock. He caught it absently, brows drawn together in thought.

"Blond and blue, 19, 5' 9", science class, held back a year," Sherlock replied, throwing the disk back with a smug grin.

'The original deduction game!' Sherlock thought with an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia. Sitting on the grass, he settled in to watch.

Mycroft had gotten into the habit of having Sherlock deduce his classmates to the nth degree.

"Why was he held back?" Mycroft quizzed, returning the frisbee.

"Cheating," Sherlock replied, about to throw it back. "Wait," he paused. "Cheating and skipping class." With every throw, Mycroft would ask a question or name a person, and with every catch, Sherlock would answer.

"Samantha Hanshaw."

"Red and green, 17, 5' 5", fairly intelligent. Moved ahead 2 levels over the summer." Mycroft was just about to catch the returning disc when Sherlock added, "And she has a crush on you. She likes your intellect." Mycroft completely froze. The frisbee hit him squarely on the forehead, snapping him out of his trance. "Mycroft! Are you ok?" Sherlock yelled, all deductions forgotten.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Mycroft assured him. "Let's go up front." The two Holmes children ran around to the front yard and Sherlock hurried to catch up. As he was about the round the corner, he noticed a group of boys, about his younger self's age, bicycling down the road.

'Oh,' Sherlock remembered. 'This was it.'

"William! Want to come and play with us?" One boy yelled, coming to a stop in front of the house.

"Can I, Myc? Please?" The younger Holmes asked. Sherlock could see the love and care in Mycroft's eyes. But also the sadness.

"They're no good for you, Will," He whispered, kneeling down to his brother's level. The younger's face dropped, tears welling up in his eyes. Mycroft hesitated briefly, hoping with all his heart he was making the right decision and that his initial readings of those boys were false, and added, "But if you want so badly, I suppose an hour or so wouldn't hurt." Sherlock lit up and hugged his brother around the neck.

"Thanks, Mycie! I'll be good! I'll be back in 1 hour!" Sherlock then ran across their large front yard to the road to meet up with the other boys. Mycroft began to walk into the house when he heard yelling.

"Where's your bodyguard now, William? Think you can just use your brain to get out of this, William?" Mycroft's heart sank. Those scumbags were holding Sherlock down on the pavement, kicking him. "Freak! Weirdo!"

"Leave him alone!" Mycroft bellowed. Sherlock had been struggling, trying to get away from them, but there had simply been too many. The bullies quickly scattered, grabbing their bikes and running off. Mycroft pulled Sherlock onto the grass immediately.

"I'm sorry," Sherlock whimpered.

"No, no, William. You don't have to be-"

"Don't call me that!" He yelled. "Never again! If I'm to be a freak, I'll be named as such. Never call me by that name again. Call me Sherlock from now on." Sherlock's face had turned adamant, a preview of his future personality.

"But-"

"Please?" Sherlock begged, face softening once again. Mycroft silently nodded and pulled Sherlock in for a hug.

"Come on inside. Let's get you washed up and have some cake together, hm? Sounds good, Sherlock?" Mycroft asked, the name feeling strange on his tongue. He certainly did not think the name sounded freakish, nor was his brother a freak, but he would, at least for now, make his brother happy.

"Yes, please."

"And Sherlock?" Mycroft continued, pausing his steps. "I'll always love you and I'll always take care of you. I will never hurt you. Never forget that."

Sherlock woke up with a start, gasping and still sobbing a little. His face was sticky with half-dry tears.

"I will never hurt you." Those words echoed in Sherlock's mind. It seemed that these days all Mycroft had done was hurt Sherlock.

'Not that it was really his fault,' Sherlock thought. 'I'm really the cause of it all. Maybe if I could find a triple homicide I could finally make him proud.' Sherlock shook his head. He'd already solved those types of cases. He really didn't know what to do to make his brother happy. Turning over on the sofa, he looked to the abandoned mugs on the coffee table. No doubt, the contents were far past cold so Sherlock got up and took them to the sink. Hearing the door lock click, he readied himself for an intruder since no one else he knew should be coming in at this time of day.

"Sherlock?" He heard a voice call out.

'Mycroft?' Sherlock wondered. 'Why is he here?' Slowly, Sherlock walked out of the kitchen.

"What do you want?" He spat, unintentionally angry.

"I wanted to apologise. I'm sorry," Mycroft said, absolute sincerity showing on his face. Sherlock was surprised beyond words. Mycroft quickly took in his brother's appearance and realized he was responsible for it. Mycroft sighed lightly before continuing, "Lately all we've done is fight. That's not right for brothers. Even arch-nemesis brothers," He said with a smirk. Even Sherlock chuckled at that. Turning serious once again, Mycroft continued, "Please believe me when I say I'm sorry. I-" He paused for a moment, deciding he may not have another chance like this for a while. "I'll always love you, little brother, and I'll always take care of you. I will never intentionally hurt you. Never forget that. I may be harsh sometimes and say things I don't mean when I'm especially frustrated but I'll try to say 'I'm sorry' a bit more."

"I love you too, Mycie," Sherlock replied, hugging his brother tightly. Mycroft smiled fondly at the man who, at the moment, was burying his face in Mycroft's suit jacket. Mycroft hugged Sherlock back.

"I'll always care, William," His brother's name finally felt right again after all these years. "You're never a disadvantage."

"Neither are you, Myc," Sherlock replied with a smile. "But you know you're not allowed to call me that around anyone else. Not even Mummy and Daddy." Mycroft nodded. "Good. Now why don't we stop this emotional madness and finish what we started," Sherlock commanded. To the average person, it would seem Sherlock had gone back to normal. But Mycroft saw the glint in his eyes. "Chocolate cake with whipped icing?" Sherlock offered.

"Of course," Mycroft smiled, taking the plate and sitting again in the living room. "Cluedo?"

Sherlock BBC Taglist

@lucywrites02

@delightfulheartdream

@bartv21

@another-crazy-fangirl

@ladylulu143

[transsexualhamlet]

sherlock holmes reactions part 4 (?) ive lost count already but unsurprisingly ive grown even more attached to him

using this as the cover image because i made him a playlist. cause im awful

no legit this is gonna need a read more because it's SO LONG SHIHEWIESHEFSHIEWHF

Had three mental breakdowns this week and realized i do in fact kin sherlock motherfucking holmes. this does not bode well for anything in my life mentally I've diagnosed him with so many things

Oh boy lol you want the list I think hes autistic (undisputed honestly) plus also adhd but on top of that there's the manic depression and uhhh the bpd lmao I dont even think that's it those are just. the obvious ones

But yeah man's a fucking mess and a shit person but in the same way as me so 👍

Some highlights I thought were very funny:

watson: we are in fact going to be waltzing into a place where people are Shooting People you do not have your gun. this is a problem

sherlock: don't worry watson I have my trusty stick!

watson: visible pain

This clearly happens like every day or so with them

but yeah there were some really honestly sweet scenes with them at the apartment and why am i getting soft over the crusty man being gay

have you considered tho. have you considered them

have you considered sherlock, who usually only plays absolute garbage on his violin serenading watson to sleep when he was tired and in pain and watson being so fucking in love with the man and waxing poetic about falling asleep to his music and waking up to see him fallen asleep on the couch next to him and oh my god them

They're just really sweet together for such a completely dysfunctional couple so much of the time lol I just. Sherlock being like.

Sherlock half of the time: watson you're fucking stupid. no i won't take care of my personal needs stfu. watson get a goddamn life. watson shut up. watson no one cares about your goddamn opinion. no i need to disturb you in the middle of the night it's for science. hey watson mind if i manipulate mansplain malewife

Sherlock the other half of the time: HELLO SIR YOU ARE MY FAVORITE MAN TO EVER MAN HELLO MAY I SPEND THE REST OF MY DAYS WITH YOU HELLO I WILL DO ANYTHING FOR YOU WE ARE PERFECT MATCHES I LOVE YOU AND I NEED YOU YOURE SO MUCH BETTER THAN ME PLEASE MARRY ME

They're... they certainly are.

ALSO OH MY GOD.

THIS ONE TIME WHEN SHERLOCK WAS JUST PACING AROUND THE ROOM AT 3 AM GOING "IT DOESNT MAKE SENSE >:(((" AND HUDSON LIKE BARGED IN TO COMPLAIN AND THEN WATSON WAS LIKE DUDE YOU GOTTA STOP DOING THIS AND PROCEEDS TO SAY THE LINE "YOU ARE KNOCKING YOURSELF UP, OLD MAN"

BAHGHSFHGRHEWHEWHIFEW

BRB SOBBING

CALLING HIM AN OLD MAN???? KNOCKING HIMSELF UP?? I DONT KNOW WHATS FUNNIER

The main highlight of this part was I have now gotten to see him have a great time watching his homo homie get married

Its so fucking funny.......

I was prepared for a funny reaction by yuumori sherlock's face when he said it lol but. Damn i was really not prepared tbh

watson: I'm engaged!

sherlock: *pained groaning*

watson: do you... not like her?

sherlock: no she's fine she's great you'll be wonderful together bUT I HATE IT WHEN PEOPLE ARE HETEROSEXUAL WATSON DO I HAVE TO MARRY MYSELF THEN WATSON? ARE YOU GOING TO MAKE ME MARRY MYSELF.

watson: yeah... yeah... fair, I feel really bad because you did this whole case and I got a girlfriend out of it and all you got was me leaving you alone fuck man im sorry what are you gonna do without me

sherlock, highly sarcastic: dont worry watson I've always got my handy cocaine! *pulls it out and gets high in front of watson just as he's about to leave*

watson: *in fucking agony*

sherlock: good for you!

I DONT EVEN- THIS SCENE KILLED ME MULTIPLE TIMES OVER WHAT

ITS SO GODDAMN NONCHELANT ABOUT IT SHERLOCK IS JUST LIKE YEAH I WILL IN FACT NOT BE MENTALLY HEALTHY IF YOU ARE NOT WITH ME 24/7 BUT WHATEVER YOU DO YOU /S

I'd like to apologize to watson on sherlock's behalf lmao. man is being a bit too codependent on main

The last thing about sign of four I do need to address is yeah, there's the Horrific Amounts Of Racism in that one and the whiplash hearing it is just ridiculous because they seem to be so knowledgeable in all other areas and fairly... politically correct, taking sherlock's original misogyny as a purposeful character flaw, but then they just mention someone indigenous once and suddenly its all parrotting racist propaganda and just... really awful shit. There's no way I'm gonna speak for the group that just got absolutely hate crimed here but anyone can tell the author just has no clue what he's fucking talking about and it's physically painful.

And I don't know, it's just so bad it seems out of character? Doyle's making these motherfuckers say shit that honestly, Sherlock would know better about. And especially Watson. Come on, you cannot tell me watson is mentally capable of being prejudiced against someone. Please do not make him that way.

I'm not sure how to handle it specifically, or what's the proper way I should handle something like that in a media I otherwise like. Is it ok to say Doyle was clearly a piece of shit on the matter and separate those characters from his bias or is that insensitive?

I don't know, I was Not a fan of it and I'm glad to see they've at least finally shut up about the guy

But anyway yeah, uhhhh onto the short stories because I'm trying to read those before I get to the final problem

Scandal in Bohemia was a fucking ride, first of all, before we even get to Sherlock's girlboss arc we have to discuss how gay the whole situation was and how Doyle's attempt at making them less gay failed spectacularly

Like he's all "ah yes I need to marry off watson and uhhh make sherlock ummmm interact with a woman so they dont look gay" but he does it SO BADLY that it makes them look EVEN GAYER

cause i mean, even the conversation they had about watson getting married back in sign of four was gay af, but how Doyle handled things afterward was in no way straighter.

Cause you know, the man kind of wrote himself into a corner with the fact of Watson narrating these stories. So Watson has to be around to witness them, and to witness Sherlock's own thought process rather privately, so he has to be around sherlock at night, a lot. But trying to come up with a reason for that happening just... it didn't occur to Doyle. He just went. Ah yes this makes sense. And it's Watson just like Sleeping Over At Sherlock's like every other goddamn day and every time his wife leaves town and having them basically still live that cute domestic home life but they have absolutely no excuses for doing it anymore. It's quite funny

Like it was gay already the way they interacted when they officially lived together but it was like, a necessity for them. Now it's not, Watson just comes over because he goddamn wants to, and it's hilarious to me.

LIKE IDK I THINK THEY KIND OF BROKE UP FOR A YEAR OR SO BC OF WATSON GETTING MARRIED AND THEY LIKE DONT HAVE CONTACT WITH ONE ANOTHER BUT ONE DAY WATSON JUST INEXPLICABLY HAS THE URGE TO COME VISIT SHERLOCK ON NO NOTICE AND THEN SUDDENLY THEY ARE TOGETHER NEAR 24/7 AGAIN LIKE BARELY ANYTHING CHANGED AHIEHOEWH

SIT DOWN AND TRY TO TELL ME THOSE ARE NOT HOMOSEXUALS

Watson walks in on no fucking notice after a full year and Sherlock is just. In the middle of some experiment obviously but hes like

Sherlock, carrying around unidenfiable chemical mixtures: W A T S O N you look good you look good! i see you've gained seven pounds!!

watson: uh. thanks??? Hey lol *awkwardly waves* Uh um Wanted to Uhm sEe you

Sherlock: ABOUT gODDAMN TIME AND YES WONDERFUL LOOK LOOK SIT DOWN I HAVE THINGS TO INFODUMP ABOUT

watson: :) ok :) *turns to camera* and we were back to the old days

sherlock: makes a deduction

watson: wowwwwwwwwwwww !! so true bestie !!

sherlock: !!!!!!!!! :))) !!!!! :))) uh fuck im supposed to be smooth Its Elementary Lol

watson: *turns to camera* when i stroke his ego like this and compliment him he blushes like a girl like i just complimented his dress so i do it more because he likes it. this is a homie trait

watson: well i should probably get going! my wife will notice that i am gone my dear buddy bro homie!

sherlock: NO DONT LEAVE IM LOST WITHOUT YOU (pretty much a direct quote lol) your. wife doesn't. get back home until monday. I know this because I am smart and definitely have not been stalking you.

watson: alright :)))))

AND THEN HE FUCKING SLEEPS OVER LMAO FUCKING HOMOS

So yeah they're right back where they were before pretty much and there's a case bc of course there is

And honestly I think this short story specifically was so insane mostly just because of how absolutely fast it all went. Yuumori kind of made me believe the original Irene Adler was more of an important character than she really is? And I think that's. Honestly so funny. Motherfucker shows up for ten pages, girlbosses her way around town, and changes sherlock's entire opinion of the female gender while still keeping him gay?

LIKE NO LOL SHES NOT IN ANY WAY A LOVE INTEREST AND WATSON GOES OUT OF HIS WAY TO SPECIFY THE FACT THAT IN NO WORLD WOULD THEY HAVE BEEN ROMANTICALLY INVOLVED BECAUSE. SHERLOCK. DIDN'T DATE WOMEN.

HE WAS JUST??? SO IMPRESSED AND SHELL SHOCKED BY HER EXISTENCE HE DECIDED IT WAS TIME FOR GIRLBOSS APPRECIATION DAY TODAY AND ALL DAYS HENCEFORTH???

AND THEY HAVE LIKE O N E INTERACTION?? God, the power this woman(?) has. Watson looks at her once like. damb shawty 😳 and she's like "no<3" and he's like FUCK

Like yeah it's pretty much just the king walking up like "help girl the whore is blackmailing me" and sherlock being like "ok lol this will be easy" and then it proceeded to not in fact be easy or even possible

sherlock like... posed as a dead body and tried to get her to give up the location of the photo but she out-acted him and skipped the town the next day after doing the 'good night mr. sherlock holmes' thing with sherlock completely tricked

and she just. sends a letter like "dear sherlock holmes. you're a fucking idiot and i think it's funny that you lost. nice job tho mad respect" and sherlock just SHORT CIRCUITS

the king comes back a bit later like "hey Dude where's my Photo" and sherlock's like oh yeah uhhhhhhhhhhh about that and the king is like HOW COULD IT POSSIBLY HAVE BEEN THAT GODDAMN HARD i would have dated someone more noble if she wasn't so pretty i swear im on a whole different level from her

and then. GIRLBOSSIFIED SHERLOCK HOLMES RESPONDS "from what I have seen of the lady, she seems indeed to be on a very different level from your majesty" ABSEHHESHEFHHFES ROASTED

and the dude just LEAVES

After that I read a few more of the short stories and well the highlights I got from that pretty much were these conversations

Watson: sherlock. honey. have you. eaten anything today

Sherlock: IT DIDNT OCCUR TO ME DEAR WATSON

Watson: ITS FIVE PM

and:

Sherlock: *having one of his Moment Moments at three in the goddamn mornig* GRRRR CRIME ISNT WHAT IT USED TO BE

Watson: MY DEAR SHERCOCK WHAT IS CRIME S U P P O S E D TO BE LIKE ACCORDING TO YOU

Sherlock: no one's original anymore fucking copycats

Watson: so you want the criminals to make things harder for you specifically.

Sherlock, exasperated: yes!

I love them your honor.

[lucky4in]

Magic Interferes in New Orleans

Prompts from Piccadilly's book #3

Words used: ☆matriarch ☆throat ☆impossible ☆vinegar ☆apology ☆slice ☆microwave ☆raspberry ☆choose ☆snore

God! I can't take it. The dread is killing me. I'm losing all the blood in my fingers with how tight I'm squeezing the steering wheel. The honking around me is not helping. I can feel everyone's fear collectively as we sit in agitated traffic. Stress. Fault. Jitteriness. Indifference. Panic, panic, panic.

God, I hate being an empath. I can't even hear my own thoughts. I need to breath! Yeah. Take deep breaths. I'm not far from the U-turn lane. So what if traffic is moving 1 millimeter a minute? The storm can't be faster.

Hooooonk!

Beepbeep!

I have to get out of this situation before I have a sensory overload.

From my front and my rear, I'm surrounded by vehicles. I can't move back, I'll hit someone. I can't move up, because they'll think there's space to move and I'll be more stuck than before. Looking to my right I realize the road across the gate is fairly empty. That last car I saw go that way was 40 something minutes ago.

I gulp loosening my grip from the wheel but still holding it firmly in my palms. Taking a breath I turn the wheel and step on the gas. My car races through the grass and crashes though the metal gates. With a screech, my tires are finally rolling and I'm off. Towards the dark clouds like a fool running blindly into a lions den.

When I finally catch sight of the curling palm trees and the flying debris, my weariness is replaced by anger. We had a plan. A simple schedule. Prepare emergency food, water, and medicine, flashlights and documents, locate nearest shelters, fill up gas tank, clear the yard, and turn off the power. When the evacuation order is set, I would be too far away at the time, so my husband would get the kids from home and we...would...evecuate.

Evacuate.

We would meet at the nearest shelter with our separate cars...

Unfortunately, my...sweet...dearest mother decided to take it upon herself to pick up the kids herself...and NOT evacuate. Instead, she wanted her grand babies to feel safe during the storm and cook them a nice meal...at her house.

I almost had a heart attack when my husband said they weren't there. Instead, a note was attached to the fridge reassuring us that my elementary school kids, including a baby, did not infact disappear off the face of the earth. She wants them to feel less threatened and stressed over this "flood nonsense". Make it seem like a regular thunder storm.

Except it's not a thunder storm! It's a hurricane!

I told my husband not to worry about it, I will get the kids and be ok. The hurricane is suppose to be a bad one, the weather man said. Anything left undemolished by the storm by the end of this would be a miracle. Hopefully it won't be my sanity. I swear, she's impossible.

By the time I get to her house, the streets are flowing with water and clawing up her driveway like waves at a beach. I step out and my shoe kerplunks into the water. I groan, feeling my ears eject hot steam. I stomp onto her porch with a squish, squish, squish and jam the key into the lock.

I kick the door open and slam it shut, my anger seeming to accelerate as soon I step inside. I cringe a bit, noticing my youngest asleep on the couch.

"DON'T SLAM MY DO-" my mother sticks her head out through the kitchen doorway and spots me.

"-Oh, hi baby!"

I stretch a tight smile, coaxing my child back to sleep. "Hello, mother."

"You came just in time. I just need to get a few things done before we eat."

And there she is. Like always. Not worrying about a thing while marinating apple cider vinegar on peices of pork. Probably to slice into the-

Sniff, sniff.

-gumbo. Her calm persona was infuriating. Almost insulting.

"Too bad my son in law couldn't be here. He'd love to stuff his face with the beignets" she continues.

"He's at the shelter. Kinda like we're suppose to be" I say, honey tounged and all "which begs the question..." I lean in, my palms face down on the table. "Why aren't we there right now?" I sneer, bringing my voice down.

"Because there's no need to. You know that" she says simply.

"Maybe in your case, but not mine. You just felt entitled to do things your way. Like you always do. I had everything under control and-and you had me worried."

"You know nothing was going to happen to these kids. I knew nothing was really wrong."

"If you really felt so aloof about this, you should have stayed yourself. You can't just up and take my kids like that. We've talked about this."

She finally looks at me, turning away from her task. "I should be free to see my own grand kids whenever I want to."

"I would have probably excepted that, if we weren't in the middle of a god damn hurricane-"

"Momma! Momma look!"

I was interrupted by my two children excitedly telling me that a pie was on the way. All while showing me their hands, proof of a raspberry massacre. Animated. Passion. Triumph. Pleasant. I ruffle their heads with a quick "good job" and they ran off together. Their happiness almost cures my frustration. It does calm me down a bit though.

"Is is so much to want to keep your family safe" my mother asks.

Aaaaaaand its back.

"Is it so much to just listen to me? To just let me do things my way? I am in no less danger than you are just because I dont have the same... tools that you do."

"It looks like it puts you in a lot of danger if you have to evacuate the city. You could simply come here so momma can protect you."

"That makes me look like a normal person, mom. The streets are already flooding and a ton of people just saw me go the opposite direction. I look stupid and suspicious." I'm taken back to my teen years. Having a similar conversation with my mother. "Not everything can be solved with your protection. I can make my own decisions. But instead you undermine me and tamper with everything around you. Just because I dont have it, doesn't mean I cant keep my family safe or simply be a mother. How about, for once, you let mother nature do her job."

"Your father made this house with his bare hands, rehydrating himself with his sweat. No one is touching this house. Not even Cosmo's or Gaia or whatever." She huffs and turn away. A puff of steam emerges over her head, indicating she opened the pot of Gumbo.

"Well, when your the Matriarch, you can start making the rules around here."

Realizing an apology isn't coming, I groan restricting myself from wrapping my hands around her throat. Its silence between us, as there is after every altercation. Especially when the house is mentioned, cause it's always Papa's house. He passed away before I could even learn to speak his name. Mama always told us about Papa. How she met him, how he put her on her feet and built a house for her (it was told he even built the bricks holding this house up), how his devotion to his family and the love of his life lasted until death did them part.

"What makes you think I'm going to be the next Matriarch?" I ask, slipping in the kitchen chair.

"You will. It's a family tradition that you need to uphold. And you are the only girl conceived by me." She answers, this sounds almost rehearsed.

"Why don't the others take your place?" I ask, for the millionth time.

"It's only rare that a boy has ever been in place of a woman. And once a girl was brought in, he was removed immediately."

"If it's that simple then crown them and get it over with."

"Oh, do you think it's that easy"? She quizzes, slowly turning to me.

"Knowing you, probably not."

"Hyde is much more coordinated than that. If they really didn't think you were worthy, we would have known, but I always knew you were special."

Here she goes again. Hyde,, is supposedly the person that gifts the family with magic, life, and girls. It's the spirirt who thrones and dethrones us. No matter who we are. According to mom, the next Matriarch could be good or bad, Hyde has a plan for them in the end.

Along with Papa's stories, Hyde was always directed towards me because I was the only girl, excluding my half sister. Truthfully there was no way to know if Hyde was actually real. I'm not even sure if my parents have seen it. Mom would tell me tales at night of different women throughout our generation, chosen by Hyde and how I would be like them someday.

Perfect.

"Hyde doesn't give you this gift for no reason" mom reassures "they always have a plan. You can't see everything in a negative light. What if Hyde chooses Clio and you-"

I stop her at the mention of my youngest name.

"I'm not putting that responsibility on my kid" I say sternly, though It probably won't matter what I tell her "Especially if, no offense, she ends up like you. Completely dependent on Hyde's gift. IT didn't give me any when I was born, like the rest of you, and I'd like it to stay that way."

Silence once more.

"Perhaps you're afraid-"

"I'm not afraid-"

"-its okay."

"-Of this imaginary ghost."

"Sure, keep believing that. But when it happens~" she sings.

"When it happens to me, pigs will fly" I sneer, memories of that same sing song tone prodding at me.

She says nothing.

"Just let it go mom, it's just not meant to be. I'm not a child that you can hide under your wings when hail comes. However your gifts came to be, Hyde, the house, whatever, it must've skipped a generation."

She continues to stir. She sputters "but-but the family-"

"-The family doesn't know what's best for me and neither do you. I know I'm the only daughter to the Matriarch. I know I wasn't born with any gifts like my siblings. I know refusing my path makes me an ungrateful child and Hyde will handle me" I say reciting what I also heard throughout my life "But that's not my life. And I'm not defenseless."

She freezes. More silence.

"And, I mean, it's not like having voodoo is easy. It consumes you and it messes a lot of things up. This worlds order and the next."

"That's what the council is for" my mom mutters finally.

"Oh, right. The council. The same family who's just as dependent as you. Do you even remeber a time where you haven't used your gift and actually did things yourself?"

...

...

"Don't you ever think of letting go of this life? Doing things for yourself and not the family? Hyde? Papa's house? I notice how this changes you as you age. If this is the answer to our problems I wouldn't mind the sea taking this house away for a while-"

"Mama! Mama!"

"Wow, look."

I follow my kids voices and they seek for me, a glimmer of wonder and awe in there wide pupils. My 2 boys are pointing to the window in the living room. My sleeping child is now up, standing on her toes to see what her brothers are looking at.

As I begin to walk In the living room, they're rushing back to the kitchen. I take a peek and see a part of the lawn, including my rental car but the road and the neighborhood is gone. A large amount of visible debris is covering up the world around-

No.

No.

That's not debris. That's not wind.

I follow my kids. They've opened the screen door and ventured into the back yard. I race after them and stop in my tracks. The water barrier has followed us to the backyard. My kids are screaming and dancing in the sprinklers as the hurricane is trapping us in its second eye. The oceanic barrier is circling around is, refusing to touch the property. With my kids instructions I look up, the sky is dark above us like it's the dead of night, yet inside the barrier, its murky like a cloudy day.

I can't concentrate. Excitment. Curiosity. Shock. Chills.

I sigh as my daughter wobbles to me and I scoop her in my arms. I can see it now, worst hurricane in 6 years and the Crobitt house still stands. This is similar but not related to the instance when a pair of swings at the run down school across the house seemingly froze in the air a few years ago... CIA is currently investigating...

I gather my children inside, they were starting to go towards the rushing ocean and who knows what'll happen. I shut the door with a defeated sigh and sulk at the table. The beneits sit gracefully with their powder sugar and I worship it by stuffing it in my mouth.

"I told you..."

I look up. My mothers eyes are glowing that familiar bright green and she has that devious smirk on her face. She always gave me that look as a child as if she's trying to tell me something. That, or it's to prove something, which I still dont know. I dont think I ever will.

"...you're father built this house. No one is taking it from me..."

...

...

"Now, elbows off the table."

-------

If you like to write or be creative, perhaps you need inspiration, go check out this book! Its the best!

[spencers-dria]

The First of Many

Someone To Stay Ch. 10

Spencer Reid x fem reader

Content Warnings: *Mentions of alcohol/drinking

Y/N POV:

You roll over in bed to glance at your phone to see it's 11 AM. It feels nice to sleep in with no alarm. After putting on your glasses and slippers and finally dragging yourself out of bed, you stroll into the kitchen and pour a bowl of fruity pebbles. You put a music playlist on the TV to play in the background.

It has been almost a week since your talk with Spencer. As much as it hurt you to see him broken in that way, you felt honored that he trusts you enough to share that part of his life with you. Talking about trauma is never easy. You should know.

You think over some of the things you said to him. Spencer's entire job involves profiling people and reading every tone, every bit of body language. You are sure that he most likely noticed changes in you as you spoke about coping with trauma, but you're grateful he hadn't felt the need to prod you with questions. He had become your best friend here, but you aren't sure you're quite ready to bare the darkest parts of your soul to him.

Suddenly you hear a knock at your door, not caring if a neighbor or maintenance worker sees you in your pajamas, you stroll towards the door and swing it open. You rub your eyes under your glasses to make sure you're seeing correctly. Spencer is standing in your doorway, a sheepish smile on his face.

"Y/N I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up! I just assumed since it was 11..."

You wave, brushing off his comments. "Its fine, really. I actually wasn't asleep. I was eating a late breakfast though." You suddenly become very self-conscious, and its not just because you're in your pajamas. Spencer had seen you that way on the trip. You realize as you stand in your doorway that you're wearing a tank and tight fitting PJ shorts and your bear paw slippers. Your hair is a giant mess. You have no makeup on, which you usually relied on to conceal your less than perfect skin. You never really outgrew acne, even in your twenties. You were also in your glasses. Basically, you felt like a hot mess, somewhat like Princess Anna waking up on coronation day. Even though your movie nights had been casual, you always tried to be at least somewhat put together without looking like you tried too hard.

"Umm come in" You step aside as you cross your arms over your chest, your gaze staying on your feet.

"Sorry you had to see me like this. I thought maybe it was just apartment maintenance. I can go change real quick..."

A look of genuine confusion spreads across his features. "I don't understand.  See you like what?"

You gesture to your entire body. "Like...this! I'm a complete mess, Spence." You try to keep your face down to conceal the redness growing on your cheeks.

Spencer shakes his head before letting out a small chuckle. You glance up, confused as to what about this he could possibly find funny. He better not be laughing at you, seeing as you are embarrassed enough as it is.

He shakes his head, smiling. "Silly girl."

Spencer reaches down and brushes a piece of hair behind your ear. "You always look pretty."

The voice of Mama Cass singing Dream a Little Dream of Me fills the air between the two of you. There's so much tension and you don't know where it came from. Usually you're really comfortable with Spencer. But you definitely feel butterflies in your stomach as the two of you lock eyes.

You definitely can't hide the blush heating up your face now. It seems like he is just now processing what he's said and done because his eyes widen as you see his face turn red as well. He lets out a cough, breaking eye contact and staring down at his shoes as he begins to fiddle with his hands. Your gaze lingers on his hands for just a moment before you turn on your heel and head back towards the kitchen table to finish your cereal.

Spencer follows you, hesitantly, leaning against the kitchen counter. There are a few moments of silence before he finally says "I was at a coffee shop just one block over. I had something to ask you so I thought I'd just stop by."

"Like I said before, you are always welcome Spencer. So what is your question?"

"It's probably stupid. You are more than welcome to say no. I probably would if I were you."

You laugh and roll your eyes. "Wow you're really selling me on this, keep going."

"Well... the team they uh, well sometimes they go out for drinks. If I don't go along they never let me hear the end of it. I usually end up sitting b-by myself while they all head to the dance floor. I j-just thought...I thought maybe you might..."

Spencer looks up, surprised to see you smiling and nodding enthusiastically.

"I'd love to. It's been a couple weeks since I've seen everyone. And honestly I could use a few drinks myself."

A toothy grin slowly grows on his face as he bites down on his bottom lip. He does this all the time but for some reason, today, you find your eyes staring at his lips a little too long after he's done this. Wow, he has really nice lips. Like reallyyy nice lips. How had you never noticed? I wonder if he's ever kissed anyone. He's in his thirties, surely he has. But he hasn't really spoken about past relationships. Then again neither had you.

You accidentally held your gaze on him while completely losing yourself in this train of thought. You are brought back to the present by Spencer calling your name. Your eyes quickly dart up to meet his as you realize just how far down the rabbit hole you had allowed your mind to go. You shake your head quickly, pushing these thoughts far away. It's hard enough to find a really great friend who will stick around that you can trust. You had no intention of screwing that up any time soon.

"Sorry! I'm really tired. I guess I just kind of zoned out there for a second." You quickly explain before returning to eating your bowl of cereal.

"Well I guess I should get going...I'll see you tonight?" Spencer starts to head toward the door.

"Wait! Why are you leaving?"

"Oh well I just though, well...I don't know. Are you saying you want to hang out?"

"You're my best friend here Spencer, of course I want to hang out!"

Before long the two of you had the Goblet of Fire ready to go on the TV with an array of snacks strewn across the coffee table. You noticed Spencer didn't sit on the far end of the couch this time. Instead, he sat almost on the middle. You decide to sit next to him, looking at him to make sure he's okay with it. He only gives you a smile, seemingly okay with this new arrangement.

By halfway through the movie, you had somehow ended up sharing one of your large fuzzy blankets and you had scooted close enough together that your head was on his shoulder. He hadn't said anything but you were fairly certain his breathing had changed as you'd done it.

The two of you had never been very touchy so you're not sure what had brought out this side of you today. Your thoughts start to wander again. Maybe it was the compliment he'd given you earlier. Spencer had never called you pretty, but hearing him say it gave you all kinds of nerves. You hadn't really thought about Spencer in that way. It's been years since you'd had a crush on anyone. You've forgotten what that even feels like. Surely that's not what this was. The two of you were just close. It's not like he'd ever be interested. He was a literal genius, an FBI agent, not to mention he was gorgeous. He could have any woman he wanted. Why are you even thinking about this! You don't like Spencer. Geez Y/N, get it together.

After the movie ends, you sit up and look at Spencer. "Do you need time to go home and get ready or will you be ready to leave from here?"

"Oh, I think I'm ready. I can leave and come back if you like?"

"That's silly. You can just wait here while I get ready, unless you have somewhere better to be" you jokingly raise your eyebrows and shove his shoulder. He fakes like he's been hurt, causing you to giggle. Ugh, why are you giggling? You sound like a lovesick schoolgirl.

You quickly stand up and head towards your bedroom before turning around to Spencer. "You are more than welcome to and food and drinks you find, and you can look through and find something on the TV if you'd like."

You take a quick shower and throw on a robe while you fix your hair and make up. You pull out a curling rod. You had a balayage done to your hair earlier that year, so curls really did look best, making the dark to blonde even more blended. As you look through your closet, you decide to pick an outfit that will give you a bit of a confidence boost. You pull on a spaghetti strap snug fitting maroon, velvet dress. It's a little lower cut than you usually wear, but it comes almost to your knees, keeping you from feeling like you've exposed too much skin. The back dipped fairly low, with the top half of your back covered in a piece of lace. After slipping into some strappy black sandals, you look in the mirror and admire the way it accentuates your curves. You'd been blessed with more booty than chest, so luckily you don't have to worry about showing an inappropriate amount of cleavage around Spencer's coworkers. Your legs also looked even more long and slender than usual. Yep, this was the perfect outfit.

You check your makeup in the mirror once more. Dark lipstick with smoky eye shadow and long lashes. You did this for yourself. You liked being able to feel a little bit sexy every once in awhile. You weren't dressing for anyone else. That is what you keep repeating in your head, and you will keep doing that until you believe it.

You take a deep breath to calm your nerves before stepping into the living room. Spencer is lying on the couch, reading through the book from your coffee table: Edgar Allen Poe's Complete Works. He's so entranced in the book, he doesn't notice you enter the room. Once he hears the clack of your heels across the floor he finally glances up and does a double take. Eyes wide, he opens his mouth to speak but just shuts it again. You can't help but think this was the reaction you had hoped for. Why were you dressing to impress Spencer? Maybe it's because he thought you were pretty when you were at your worst. You wondered what he would think when you put on your best. Based on the growing redness spreading from his face and down his neck, it's fair to say he liked what he saw. You could have sworn you hear him whisper a "wow" under his breath.

"I feel like I'm underdressed now." He finally speaks up.

"You look fine Spencer!"

"Fine? Fine can't compare with...with this!" He gestures to all of you.

You decide to play dumb. "I don't know what you're talking about. I just threw on a dress I thought would fit in with the atmosphere" You shrug. You want to tell him he looks more than fine. That he always looks fantastic, but you decide to keep this to yourself.

"There's nothing wrong with the way you're dressed, but if it bothers you that much I can help." You step forward and look him up and down, trying to figure out the best way to do this.

"You clearly know what you're doing," he laughs. "Go ahead."

"Ok first take off the sweater vest."

Spencer removes his black velvet-like blazer in order to remove a grey, patterned sweater vest. He's left in a dark purple button down with a matching tie, black slacks, and dress shoes.

You step closer and reach out to touch his tie, hesitating for a moment.

"May I?"

He nods for you to go ahead. You remove the tie and undo the top two buttons on his shirt. You then grab his blazer and help him to slip back into it. Lastly, you move your hand up to ruffle his hair a bit. You step back to take in the whole look.

"Well?" he asks.

You roll your tongue to the side of your mouth, biting on it as you try, very poorly, to hold back a smirk. You're impressed with your finished result.

He looks...hot. NO! Stop...nope. We're not going there. He's your best friend. That's all.

He must have noticed the way you've been eyeing him and the look on your face, because he is slowly turning a deep shade of red.

"See for yourself" you say as you lead him over toward a mirror.

After looking over his new appearance, he smiles. You can tell he feels confident like this. Confident Spencer is something you wish you saw more of. You're glad you could help him to see that he can be attractive. You wish he knew that he always has been.

"Come on pretty boy" you say, imitating Derek as you lead the two of you downstairs.

Luckily the bar is well within walking distance from your apartment. When you open the door to step outside the cool night air hits your skin, causing you to shiver a bit. You immediately feel a soft warmth enveloping your arms and shoulders. You look up to see Spencer wrapping his blazer around you. If any other guy had done this, you would certainly make assumptions, but Spencer was such a kind-hearted guy, you know he's only trying to be a gentleman. You give him a quick smile of appreciation as the two of you start to make your way to the bar.

When you finally walk through the doors, you make your way to a corner booth where you see some of Spencer's team...or your friends? You suppose they've really become your friends here. After greeting Penelope, Derek, and JJ each with a hug, you and Spencer walk up to the bar together to order drinks. Spencer orders water, which doesn't surprise you, but you've already decided that he needs a little help letting loose.

"Would you let me pick out a drink for you?" you ask, giving him your sweetest puppy dog eyes before he has a chance to shoot down the offer.

He sighs as though annoyed but his smile says other wise. "Fine, but go easy on me please."

"Two rum and cokes please, and make mine a double."

The two of you make your way back over to the rest of the group with your drinks. You listen to the four of them chat about some recent cases they've worked on. The topics don't bother you much, as you've always found that line of work intriguing. Since you're mostly listening, you finish your drink fairly quickly before Penelope speaks up.

"Enough work talk! I came to dance. Who's with me?"

Finishing your final sip, you slam the glass down on the table. You stand up to join her. "I'm in!"

JJ stands as well. "Alright, lets go, ladies!"

You hand Spencer back his blazer and look to him and Derek, waiting to see if they'll join.

"I'm feeling a little sore after that take down the other day. Maybe I'll join when I'm s a few more drinks in," Derek says.

"I'm okay for now." Spencer sees your hesitation when you realize he wont be joining. "Its okay though! Go and have fun." He gives a smile to let you know that he'll be fine. "Plus I have Morgan here to talk to for now."

"That's right, pretty boy!" Derek laughs as he throws his arm around Spencer, messing with his hair.

You laugh at the two as you turn to join the girls on the dance floor. You're grateful that those two have one another. Spencer is an only child and Derek seems to act in a big brother role. You know that it's good for him.

As you make your way to JJ and Penelope, the DJ is playing Now or Never by Tritonal. You are so grateful for a place that has good taste in music. EDM is just another one of many genres you enjoy. You and the girls are belting out the words together: "I'd rather have one night, than nothing foreveeerrr!"

As the beat builds you pick up your pace on the dance floor, giggling and dancing around with your friends. The beat finally drops and you're jumping and letting loose. You haven't had this much fun in a long time. Towards the end of the song, your gaze lands on Spencer. You notice Derek has left him to flirt with a girl over by the bar. He brought you along so he wouldn't be alone, and here you had left him. You make your way over to sit next to him after ordering two shots. You sit down next to him and slide his over towards him. He catches it as he raises his eyebrows at you.

"C'mon, you're gonna dance with us! I figure it will probably help if you drink to loosen up a bit first."

Spencer stares down at the shot in front of him, clearly questioning whether or not he should go along with this.

"You don't really have to, Spence. But I thought I'd at least try. I don't want you to have to be all alone over here. And I think you might actually have fun, if you gave it a chance. Plus, I can't dance at all! So you'll be fine as long as you stick with me."

This causes him to chuckle. He looks up at you. "Thanks, Y/N. I do appreciate it. I think everyone else has just kind of given up on asking me to join. But since you care enough to try I guess it's the least I can do."

"Woo! yes! Okay...bottoms up?" You look to him as the two of you clink your shots and down them in one quick motion. He seems to struggle a bit more after, since he doesn't do this often.

You hear Dirty Sexy Money comes on and your eyes light up with excitement. "Yes! This is a great song! Come on!" You grab his hand and lead him out to the dance floor.

You can tell Spencer is a bit unsure of himself still. You grab both of his hands and start to move him around, just trying to get him to loosen him. Both of you can't help but laugh. Neither of you are actually dancing well, just goofing off and having fun. Alcohol leaves you with more confidence than usual, so you're singing the song out loud, not caring who hears. You feel your confidence building even more. The problem with drinking is, you tend to get a bit flirty. This is usually directed at the nearest person, and it's usually the worst possible person. You begin to stop caring who's watching or how you're coming across. The song makes you feel sexy and you want to have fun.

Your dancing changes from silly to sexy as the chorus begins. You've got your hands in the air as you do body rolls. Your hips are swaying with the music. You're not sure how they got there, but before you know it your hands are wrapped around Spencer's neck. He looks so attractive to you right now. Your eyes stay locked on his as you sing the words of the song. You're feeling even more bold so you turn your back to him and grab his hands to place them on your sides. You shimmy down towards the ground and back up again. You feel him tighten his grip on you. You turn around to see a wide-eyed Spencer. His face is beet red and he's sweating despite not having danced much. You know that if this was bothering him, he would have walked away. The alcohol is keeping you from caring how this will affect your friendship afterwards. All you can think about is now. His words, his actions today, HE had made you feel confident and sexy. In this moment, you wanted him to know that. You're too buzzed and too busy taking in how good he looks to notice his eyes dart down to your lips, not so differently from what you had done earlier.

The thick tension in the air between you is quickly dispensed as the song changes. As Last Friday Night comes on, you pull Spencer over to the rest of the group on the dance floor, which now included Derek. The five of you end up singing and dancing around together, but you and Spencer can't help but stealing glances when the other isn't looking. Neither of you can forget what happened earlier. The other three share knowing looks.

As the night comes to a close, the group parts ways. Spencer opens the door for you as the two of you step outside to head back to your apartment. Most of the walk is made in silence. He passes his car outside your building and walks with you all the way back to your door. After unlocking it, you turn to him to say goodnight. Once again, your eyes land on his lips, one of his many wonderful features. You find yourself wishing you could kiss him, but your logic tells you this would not be a good idea at the moment. You are aware that your judgment is clouded. So instead, you pull him in for a hug. He buries his face in your shoulder as he whispers "Goodnight Y/N" next to your ear.

You rush inside and close the door before you have a chance to do anything you regret. After getting ready for bed, you are surprised to hear a small alert from your phone. It's a little late for anyone to be texting you. It's Spencer.

Spencer📱I had fun tonight. Thanks for making me try new things. :)

Y/N📱Me too! And good because I have a feeling that was a first of many haha

You fall into your bed, crawling under the covers. It feels comfier than usual, but you know it's because of how tired you are. You take in the feeling of the slick sheets against your skin and the warmth the blankets provide. You fall asleep with a smile on your face, remembering all the events of the night.

A/N: Thanks for reading this far! Y'all are awesome! Let me know what parts you like best!

Have a wonderful week loves 💖

[ddaeng-angmoh]

Shelter Blues-

You had always enjoyed working at the Hybrid Shelter, you had a chance to help hybrids that were unloved find homes. You had always treated the hybrids as if they were your own and never had an interest in adopting your own because they were always enough. At least that was before you found the ill-tempered hybrid in your bosses office. The russian blue was rude, invasive, and crude. You had a way of getting him angry, and you never realized why until it was too late.

-

She was supposed to be the typical hybrid lover, but there's too much of that. So here's an unedited first chapter to boost those moods out there.

-

"You're late." Yoongi said as he looked up from his phone. His tail flicked behind him, the fur was puffed from his agitation. It was reminiscent of a winter scarf, instead of portraying fear, it gave feelings of comfort and warmth. His eyes, they didn't focus on You long. Within seconds he had shuffled himself back onto his seat. His desk served as a valuable hideaway, protecting You from seeing anymore of his tail. It was a relief when he started to hide his more feline traits at work. The thought of a mutt working for a company was shock enough without him showing off. Every forbidden part of him was a blaring reminder of the blunders of humanity. How knowledge could warp what had been pure and right.

"Am I?" With a smile You removed your scarf and bundled it up. "The weather was so cold, I thought I might slip if I went too fast. I'll have to apologise later. It's a good thing I'm only volunteering." Your lip twitched down when You saw the fur of his ears pushing out from his toque. A shudder worked its way down Your spine as you averted your gaze. The scent of the inhabitants within was enough to turn you around. If agitated animals smelt bad, You were sure that hybrids smelt worse. The sweat of humans and the pheromones of animals was never meant to mix so intimately, of this the scent assured You. "Tell Jimin to buy bleach. I'll clean this building myself if I have to," You said as you dropped your coat on Yoongi's desk. You heard no response as You walked towards the backroom. Safety was a mere hall away from the animals. The sound of Your entrance hadn't awoken the hybrids, but as soon as You opened the door to the back room, the starts of tired mewls filled your ears. Disgusting. It was a task to hide Your revolution towards the mutts. It wasn't easy finding work in the city, and every job looked for Hybrid Activists. With a snort You pushed earbuds in and turned up Your music. Everybody made it their job to accept the abominations into society, and so you had to wear that mask as well. If it wasn't so valued, You would already be working Your way to a happy retirement. Instead You learnt empty compliments.

Look at your tail! It suits you!

Aw, your fluff is so cute!

Given away? How could they, you're so sweet!

You heaved a dusty box of papers onto the table as a scowl disfigured Your face. Every day You volunteered at the Park Feline Shelter was a nightmare. The dream of a job tortured You daily as the creatures smiled at You, trying to play and talk. They had no business pretending to be human. Yet You had to play along. It was a cruel game meant to torture the right of mind into the insanity of the Hybrid craze. But you couldn't fall into it, You couldn't be weak. Someone had to be strong and remember the truth, that those animals weren't human.

"Y/N?" Yoongi opened the door, his dark eyes were fixed on You and You had no doubt he smelt your distaste on the air. Their disturbing knack for scenting human pheromones was enough to send sensitive women red. His slender fingers played at the edge of the door, as if he were waiting for Your permission to speak. Uncharacteristic. If anybody else saw him they wouldn't believe it, but it was all You knew of him.

"Yes?" You said, and a flat look was directed at the secretary. Pretend? With him? No, he didn't matter. Jimin wouldn't believe a word the troll said. But, there was something unsettling in his eyes. You couldn't escape the feeling that he clung to Your every move. "Or are you just here for tea," a growl ripped at your throat, and his fingers gripped the door frame tightly. Your nose flared when his lips parted, another odd expression was on his face. It was as though he were taunting you, every emotion he displayed was foreign to You. It fit, however, when You remembered that he was just a glimpse of a human, not truly right. Unlike You, of course.

"Jimin wanted me to tell you that the files he wanted you to digitalize are on his desk. Those were already done." Yoongi's chin jutted towards the box you had, before he tilted his head. "I could get them?" He questioned. Soft, his voice was far too gentle for Your ears. You saw how obstinate he could be, he had chewed out a volunteer for getting water on his desk once. It was his drink but that hardly mattered. Yoongi had yelled at another human once for getting in his way- he had no problem speaking out. Yet he always curled in on himself when You looked his way.

"Don't bother." You said with a grimace. It was with reluctance that You looked at him directly again. The familiar feeling of discomfort settled in Your stomach as his eyes brightened.

"Are you sure?" Yoongi lowered his gaze and stepped away from the door, already anticipating when You would push by him to get the paperwork. "He said there is a couple hours of work in it- it will be a few boxes. They might be heavy." He said as he flinched, hearing the screeching of Your chair when You stood up was enough to make him curl up again.

"If I needed help, I would ask. Go do your job." Disgust dripped from your lips as You made Your way to pass him. Instead of shrinking back, Yoongi seemed to lean in as You passed. "Keep your distance." The thought of him sniffing Your scent was enough to make You feel sick. It had crossed Your mind before, what they smelt- Was it lemons? Cookies? Flowers? The descriptions You had heard for human musk bordered on ridiculous at the best of times. Yet the thought still resurfaced. Whenever Yoongi's nose twitched You wondered what his twisted nose smelt. A shudder worked it's way down Your spine and you fastened a glare on the hall before you.

Was it worth it to work around all the hybrids? In the past, the answer might have been yes, it might have even been something you would have loved to do. But the feeling of Yoongi's eyes on you reminded you of what made them monsters. They were mere animals hiding in the skin of a human.

"I can taste it." Yoongi's voice was soft and tentative. "How much you hate me." It almost made you pause, but you promised yourself you wouldn't fall for it. You promised yourself you wouldn't make the same mistakes your friend did.

Maybe he didn't deserve it. The fear from your bigotry pulled on your shoulders, and it screamed in your ears. It was weakness that you still hated them, weakness that you still cried at night after your shifts. You had to be strong, and fight to remember why you were so angry- "Maybe I don't hate you." You spoke up after you shook the anxiety from your body. "Maybe it's what you are."

 Maybe he was exactly what you feared. The mere idea of him being a threat, seemed both uncanny and terrifying. So when you opened the office door to get the files, you turnd and glared at the offending feline. "Stay away from me, I mean it."

His eyes darkened as he looked away. Yoongi wasn't offended, not like he usually was. There was no angry words or seething quips. Instead he sent a wilted smile toward you, one that tried to stir up remnants of guilt. "Of course." He said. He didn't push, and you didn't settle until you heard his steps go further away.

It was later that day when he started to show himself again. Your volunteering session was almost over, and the boxes of papers to be digitised had been worked through fairly well. It had been a silly hope that you would leave unnoticed, one broken when the door creaked open to show a familiar hybrid. "Jimin wants you working with hybrids tomorrow." He said as his slender fingers tugged his toque down. His dark eyes drifted up, and he watched your expression, waiting for a sign of your distaste.

"I'm supposed to stay to paperwork." Dismay tore through you, leaving a frightful mess or nerves and stress. "I'm not ready yet," it was barely a whisper, but you could feel his eyes focus on you. His silence felt disturbingly knowing, as if he knew why you hated him, hated his kind, and hated your few moments alone.

"He likes your hardwork," his sneakers squeaked against the ground as he kicked at the air.

"If you have something to say, just say it." You spoke bitingly, hoping he would leave. Instead he flinched and regarded you with a meek frown pulling at his lips. "You're going to play that game again?" Frustration pulled at your heart as you glared up at him. "I know you're not some coward, I see you with everyone else. If you have something to say, I'm not going to wait any longer."

"Ah-" Yoongi's head jerked down, and he had finally stopped squeaking his shoes, resorting instead to biting his lip. "I'm not some push-over. I promise," there was something coy in his eyes when he looked back up at you.

"Tell that to somebody who cares." With an aggravated sigh you stood up and shoved your phone in your pocket. Your volunteering work didn't feel worth it anymore. Not when he was looking at you so seriously.

"You care," his voice wavered as he spoke, and he gulped at the frustrated glare you sent his way. "I'll see you tomorrow, Y/N." Yoongi left the door open behind him as he stalked down the hall. You couldn't help but watch his tail as it curled around his thigh. A shudder shook you again as you averted your gaze, it just wasn't right. It wasn't natural, and you wished that for once somebody would listen to you.

"I hope not." It was a useless thing to hope for. As the receptionist he was always there, lurking and watching for something to get involved with. It always left a bitter taste in your mouth when he focused his attention on you, there was something about him that made you feel small and insignificant. It didn't matter that he would cower and shy away, what mattered was that he would watch you till the end. Every time you tried to hide a sneer or choked out a compliment he would watch. He never told anyone, instead he seemed-

"I don't care," you said as you forced your way through the room. Even speaking out loud, you couldn't convince yourself of it. The memory of his gaze felt like it was burning into you. Was it normal for someone's eyes to sear their way under your eyelids? You refused to dissect him, and his curious gazes. It was better to leave that behind. And so, you closed the door behind you and rushed your way to the entrance of the shelter. The doors to the kennel clicked shut as you passed it, a curious Jimin watched your rushed departure with curiosity. He didn't spare a second glance through the door's window, and instead continued on. He wasn't aware of the fear that was growing in you, or how close you were to falling apart.

[punkscowardschampions]

Fearghal & Kaitlin

Fearghal: [So the setup is sending her a postcard pretending to be a mate visiting in England for whatever reason (could be fam you get the vibe, nothing suspect given the time this is) but giving enough info that she 1. Knows it is him 2. has the number of at least a phonebox nearby if not a phone in his care home 3. a time when he plans to first call the phonebox nearest their home in Ireland, assumedly this is some sneaky twin shit they've pulled similar enough before that she can catch on without any of the rest of the fam also doing so; only question is how long do we want it to be since he left?] Kaitlin: [3 months ish later then and they've turned 15 but only just for our ref how do we think the situation is with his dad etc like would he just be acting like he's dead cos is to him?] Fearghal: [basically my vibe was they wanted to weaponize Tabby killing herself for their gain, like make it something political even though literally not about that bar the fact her family and his family and co didn't want them together and she was a dramatic teenage girl in love (no offense but like) and so when he wouldn't go along with that there was a massive fight, actual, between him and his dad and then Fearghal left 'cos there's never any option but to do as your told with this fam and he can't lose face with all the other people etc etc and the story the dad is telling the fam etc is that Fearghal deserted them which not untrue but yeah, good enough for all the olders to disown him too so it'd be like we don't talk about him and if someone else bring him up you denounce him] Kaitlin: [let's say there's a crying baby in the background cos like in my OG post she can use her youngest sister needing fresh air as an excuse so casually left her outside the phonebox but might be able to hear her if she's going for it] Kaitlin: How ya Fearghal: K? Fuck's sake, you've not had a bastard, have ya? 's'not been that long, like Kaitlin: Catch yourself on! mind how ya ma was fit to drop, you eejit? well we're all lurred she had another girl who I'm hauling about as my cover, so I am Fearghal: [Laughs] Still easy to windup then [slight pause to take in that it's a girl and is here, like not the biggest shock but also literally no way of knowing at this time so] And go on, don't leave me in suspense, what name they burden the poor fucker with Kaitlin: [makes an unimpressed noise like fuck off] full of that good craic you are, bet the brits are buzzing to hear it. You ready? Niamh Roisin, it's a cracker, like [sighs] Fearghal: [laughs some more] Yeah, catch me on that most wanted list, obviously [makes a wincing noise like no] Christ, actually lost it fully then, has she? Made it longer than some but dunno if mentals get to heaven, haveta ask Father Quigley, like Kaitlin: [laughs herself] yeah yeah [makes like a idk noise] can you lose what you've never had? A good catholic'll find a way, to be sure, and she is that, our ma [makes a scornful noise at the mention of the priest as is standard for her] Fearghal: [makes a mm noise to agree] Suppose so, don't reckon much was said 'bout being good to 'em once you had 'em, so be alright [sighs] What have you been up to, then...How's it been Kaitlin: if it was she'd recite between the lines to keep us anyone's problem but hers, poor critter [sarcastic laugh because mum's getting no real sympathy] it could've been 3 days from when you went off for what's changed and not- [a long pause because everything's shit and we know it is] Fearghal: What's God if not top babysitter, eh? Cheaper than telly and who's giving money to the BBC [scoffs but cuts it short 'cos yep] And I'm fine too, you rude cow Kaitlin: and stand him next to our earthly da and he comes out lookin' class [chefs kiss noise] Hey now! [makes a fake noise of shock like she's appalled at the mention of the bbc] watch your profanity around me, dicko! [really long exaggerated sigh as a pisstake] a'course you are, land well anywhere, but hit me with your bars, it's no bother to hear how right I am Fearghal: If you can get him stand still long enough, like and you ain't a lad so no chance, babe [does pisstake wistful sigh] Forgot you needed protecting from the evils of this world, my apologies [coughs awkwardly then, stalling for time, fiddling with the phone in ways she can probably hear] Taking a bow as we speak, can't fit in here with me but the adoring fans are aplenty over this way, well more than there so fuck it, life's grand so it is Kaitlin: Wise up, boy, he only sways slightly of an evening on these ones lately so he does [but her voice is MAD because fuck being a girl in this fam] Did you now? Thank fuck my new lad has his uses then, like [takes a deep breath to try and calm down but exaggerates it for the pisstake because have to, god forbid they are serious rn] I went and saw your former biggest fan under that rock they've carved with protestant shite, no word on if life's grander for her now it's ended or if she's regretting she didn't send her prayers up saying she wanted another bite of the cherry, one that wasn't yours- [stops like I've probably gone a bit far here and shouldn't mention his dead ex anymore] Fearghal: Good for him [through gritted teeth like let's never talk about him thank you] Like you need a replacement protector, got how many ready and willing at home, just DYING to beat the shit out of some 15 year old kid for your honour and just for the craic of it [does it back, like and then is silent until the pips are going but he's still there 'cos they stop when he puts more money in] You'll be under some rock with Catholic shite if they catch you in their graveyard [says it much more quietly than he's said the rest] Kaitlin: [makes a noise of disgust that doesn't need to be exaggerated for the pisstake cos genuinely horrified at this fam thanks] what honour? Shame you brought down on us with what they caught you at [but her voice is softer too because didn't mean to go off and also doesn't mean any of that we know] supposed to scare me, is it? [said like I wouldn't be here to give them a chance to do it just like you weren't] Fearghal: Why you need to ask one of the others, ain't it; can't be the best looking of the bunch and the best behaved, got to leave something for 'em to do and impressing n pleasing him 's'never been high on my to-do so have at it, lads [does meh noise like this is all so casual] Called the fear of God for a reason, aye Kaitlin: [does the meh noise back and it's her turn to awkwardly fiddle with the phone/cough while she works up to saying what she does next, more quietly than she has anything else] how's it truly then? Away and everything. Free and clear Fearghal: It's, like- just shit because you realize that everything that happens in that fucking town, all the stuff that rules our lives and is all they give a shit about, no other cunt does, you know, Kait? Sure, its on the news when another bomb goes off or don't and that; but the English don't even have to think about it, their day to day ain't affected at all, no fucker but our lot cares and what's the point, honestly? Everything we were forced to at least think was important, if not fecking stupid, ain't and now I don't- [Stops to do some actual breathing to calm down] Not to mention I'm thick as shite, thanks for that and all- 'cos frees a bloody joke [laughs bitterly] I get by, now, got a place to stay so, don't haveta worry but don't be hopping the next ferry yourself, girl Kaitlin: [when you're just silent for ages because as much as you think it's bullshit you're basically in a cult rn with no chance of getting out so what can you say like] not that thick, warning me off coming to keep an eye on all these english girls with theirs on ya but no bother 'cause mind I get sea sick and class as boking on brits sounds I'd get fairly covered myself before I made any casualties of 'em Fearghal: Know enough about girls and enough about you to know the two don't need mixing, that's just school of life, that [moving away a bit and telling someone who's impatiently waiting to fuck off] Stay put [when you say it firmly like serious voice] That wain and the rest needs someone VAGUELY sane about to stand any chance, fuck me, Aislinn's already been corrupted and she's barely in double digits [kicks the box] Kaitlin: [laughs because yeah don't let her around any girls you like babe] you should know enough about me to know what giving me your orders'll do fer ya and what it'll make me do [but there's no actual real threat in it we all know she's staying for the bubs] Sane as you by that count, ain't I? [can't help genuinely sighing] Mammy's girl is Aislinn been like it since she was old enough to play house [grimaces at the thought cos never that bitch] got the rest under MY apron strings, grand they are and it goes for the stories I tell 'em every night after prayers, rest easy yourself knowing that, yeah? Fearghal: Alright, alright [hear the 🙄😏] But if you wanna be the next to bring shame on 'em, you can do better than a cheeky abortion, surely? [shakes his head] Yeah. [Pause] Yeah [Coughs again] I'm doing my bit, swear, it's gonna take a while 'til I can send you anything and I've got to work out how when I do- it ain't for them, just you lot but like I said, not cheap Kaitlin: [an outraged noise like who do you think you're talking to, of course I can do better than that etc] Yeah. [Pauses herself because again what to say, there's so much it's too much] I've got faith in the right shite, Gally [nickname ftw because feels] it'll work out. We'll work it out, like we did this Fearghal: 'Course we will, K. No other choice, is there [definitely not a question] Kaitlin: not a real question, is it? [she knows its not] Fearghal: you want me to ask you one? Kaitlin: do English girls fall for that? Fearghal: Enough of 'em, yeah Kaitlin: [makes a ugh noise] how you've got a bed, is it? Fearghal: Theirs top where mine is Kaitlin: I deeply feel that Fearghal: [makes the kinda sad 'ha' sound like 'I know'] Not all bad though, some class drugs about and you don't get kneecapped for taking a casual interest Kaitlin: [does a little hooray down the phone] Fearghal: Send you some but your phones probably tapped so I definitely won't Kaitlin: thanks or no thanks, depending who'll be listening Fearghal: Cover those bases and the baby's ears Kaitlin: nothing to be heard over her crying Fearghal: don't lie, you miss me that much [laughs] Kaitlin: fuck off [but laughs too] Fearghal: Will do Fearghal: so many English girls Kaitlin: [exaggerated being sick noise] nowhere close to a ferry and sick as a dog, don't start me any further Fearghal: You think I escaped to pray every day and fight the good fight, like Kaitlin: if you still pray you ain't escaped fuck all Fearghal: Not living on my knees for no cunt, sis Fearghal: am being haunted, for my sins, though Kaitlin: Be on track to commit more, you'll have enough ghosts for all manner of shite to get done Fearghal: No rest for the wicked on the one hand, but on the other, idle hands and idle minds [breathes out like so conflicted and confused] Kaitlin: [a change in tone because serious] She's gone, so are you. Leave it here. Leave it in this fucking town Fearghal: Not a choice Kaitlin: Can be Fearghal: Nah, s'not, boths already happened Kaitlin: Happened to you, gives you a say in how you deal with it Fearghal: Yeah Kaitlin: You've lived in one haunted house as things stand, ain't you? Miss home that much, is it? Fearghal: How could I not? Live for these lectures, like Kaitlin: [an unamused noise because you're basically calling her a nagging girl which ain't a mood] Fearghal: [the pips again] Oh shit, should robably let you go, yeah? Kaitlin: Yeah probably [but she obvs doesn't wanna that'd be clear] Fearghal: Tell the kids I miss 'em, won't ya Kaitlin: I'll even include her out there Fearghal: Try and send a picture some time, alright Kaitlin: 'Course Fearghal: You too, kid Kaitlin: [laughs but in a more genuine way] You're my twin brother, calling me kid is calling yourself a wain, you eejit Fearghal: That's alright by me, like Kaitlin: I'll not baby you, got enough noses and arses to wipe here while you're hand holding these brits Fearghal: No handholding, on me life, just good old-fashioned- [will cut him off before he can be gross] Kaitlin: [we can say she cuts him off with a very unamused noise as per like no thank you] Fearghal: G'wan then, piss off before that kid freezes to death Kaitlin: [doesn't wanna be the first one to hang up obvs] Watch yourself then Fearghal: You too Fearghal: When can we do this again then Kaitlin: When can you? It's no bother for me to slip out with this ginger whinger, needs fresh air so she does Fearghal: [laughs then is pondering like umm] Try next Sunday, after church, if I don't answer then I'll send another postcard or whatever, yeah Kaitlin: Tryin' to get a free sermon told to ya, respect that hustle if not the message Fearghal: Obviously, how am I getting to heaven from England? Kaitlin: [laughs] no angels in England is there not? You'll have been thinking on your feet for fresh pick up lines all these months, no wonder you ain't had time for me, like Fearghal: Something like that... [Trails off 'cos don't wanna tell her what's really been going on but also does 'cos not its like that and its been a lot to just deal with on his own] Kaitlin: But it's something else like what? [cos sees through you boyyy] Fearghal: It's alright now, like Fearghal: but it ain't as if the old man sent me on me way with anywhere to go, is it Kaitlin: He didn't put a bullet in your head as a send off, that's what gets me to sleep of a night, but- [trails off because she was gonna say she knows it hasn't been easy but she doesn't know how hard it's been and she's not trying to guess like let's compare struggles] Kaitlin: Yeah [another pause] Fearghal: Should've put one in his [so under his breath it's like did you mean that to be heard or] Kaitlin: You'd have to take ma out an' all, I don't reckon the broken heart myth is anything other than another story, and probably a few of us would make the cut for cute little orphans but you and me'd have to catch ourselves on quick and wise up Fearghal: Make Tara look after you all as well as Diarmaid's kids, see how committed to the family she really is [sniffs 'cos we been knew] Kaitlin: [makes an identical sound cos twinning] I'll take her out if she was bothered to try and get near 'em Fearghal: Least Owie is old enough to help out, young enough to give a clout, yeah? [genuine concern] Kaitlin: [scoffs because we know he's a bit of a knob but it's still affectionate because] Fearghal: He'll be alright [but doesn't sound as reassuring as that's meant to be 'cos like unlikely at this point] Kaitlin: He's got me, my will's stronger than god's so father Q likes to say [laughs] under his breath, a'course Fearghal: [laughs back but its less 'cos sad] He doesn't always chat shite Kaitlin: Reckon he's a soft spot for me Fearghal: [makes noise like 'hopefully not too soft' but is joking, doesn't need to be that kind of priest] Kaitlin: I don't wish you were here Fearghal: How could he not, with the charm [but just jk like] Is it better, in some ways Kaitlin: It's...[trails off cos we all know even if there's less hassle it's not better as far as she's concerned and the loneliness is a real mood] I'm buzzing you got out [genuine but her voice is sad] Fearghal: Your turn next, I mean it Kaitlin: After we get a few birthday's under Niamh's belt [pauses because it's sinking in how stuck she is for now] and the rest, give 'em a fighting chance Fearghal: Yeah Fearghal: I'll make it easier, any which way I can Kaitlin: Me too, for you, I mean Fearghal: I'm grand, honest but cheers [more pips] I am outta shrapnel though so- Kaitlin: Don't be putting honest on a lie [frustrated sigh because nobody wants this to end but she wouldn't have money] speak Sunday and like I said, watch yourself Fearghal: Love ya, K ['cos no time to take the piss for it or protest] Kaitlin: [let's say she gets cut off before she can say it back for the pain]

[pbandjesse]

Im real tired and my eye has been swollen all day. Its probably allergies but its got me a bit down. Today was a pretty good day regardless.

It was really nice walong up with James this morning. But with my eye bothering me I really didnt want to get out of bed. I did though and went to get ready while James fed sweetpea and packed up his own stuff. Today would be pretty frustrating with him not having a phone. But we would make it work.

We back together about halfway and then he went on his own to steal side and I went to Constellation.

Sean was already there when I got in so he just let me in the building. We had a fairly easy time opening up but no luck on James's phone. I called it a couple more times but now it was going straight to voicemail so it was probably dead. We're both pretty sure I got stolen at this point. But at least we can now move forward and figure something else out.

Dr. Brad, our Civil War Doctor reenactor, brought cakes from Christmas to share with us all. So I had way too much cake today. The sugar helped. I didn't get as much accomplished today with my lesson plans as I would have liked. Sean had me out on the deck basically all day. Which annoyed me because I told him I would like to work on my lesson plans but whatever. I feel like he always puts me on the deck all day.

I did get to start reading the book just got me about American hauntings. And it's really good so far. It's not a scary story book it's a book about why Ghost Story start. I'm looking forward to reading it more.

Maya was our lunch relief today and it was really nice talking to her. It always is. The firing went off really well even if it was a bit early because she'll never does a long talk about the history. But that's all right.

I had a nice lunch over at Johnny Rockets. I got a little annoyed with my waiter because he kept asking if I wanted stuff on my grilled cheese and I just kept telling him I wanted it playing and you just kept asking me. And I was just very tired and it made me upset but then the food came and it was all fine. He was a nice guy.

I gave a tour at 1. Maya apparently had never seen a full tour. Which is crazy because she's been there for months. Or at least it feels like she's been there for months. Regardless though she came on my tour and it was a really really good one. I had a really good crowd. We lost most of them by the end I started with maybe 20 and ended with nine but everyone was really enthusiastic and I was really hitting my points and just had a really good time storytelling. The full tour was about 45 minutes and I'm very proud of myself for how well I did.

My throat hurt pretty bad after that though so Shan left me downstairs for about an hour. I really would have liked more time but I also wanted to do the gun drill at 3 so it's just the way it worked out. I couldn't focus on my lesson plan too much. I did try and I got most of it done. I just have to finish the demos on number 11. I still would like to finish number 12 before we go back on Wednesday.

But what I did work on was figuring out change this phone situation. I had told him to try to call Verizon and put his account on hold just in case someone did have the phone. But every time he tried to call from the chief phone because it's not a Verizon phone the number hung up on him. He could not get through and he was getting more and more upset. I finally even though I was at the desk and we were very busy today I called. The guy on the phone was nice enough to let me keep putting the phone down and not get upset. And I was able to give them the number of the phone James on and they called him. So everything was fine but he was not able to get a replacement he does not have insurance.

So James told me to go to the Verizon store after work today and get him the cheapest most basic Android phone I could. And I was going to do that but then I remembered that you can get unlocked phones on Amazon. And then even better doing a little bit of research you can get just straight used Verizon phones on Amazon. So I ended up finding my phone, an LG G5, for $90. Which is how much I spend one I had to replace my phone with my insurance. So you know this phone is going to have some wear and tear because it's used he's going to have the same phone as me and he pays the same price that I did. I also got him a case. Honestly as you're probably get him a neck strap so that he can't lose it again. But it'll be here on Thursday and he just has to make it through this week without the phone and everything's going to be okay. I don't know what he has to do to activate it but I did make sure that it is a Verizon phone and he should just have to get a new SIM card. So hopefully in the end all of this will be fine and they will be cool about it. We'll see what happens.

I gave my gun drill at 3. Maya watch that one as well and I had like 40 people watched the whole thing. I didn't have as many hands on participants this time. I only got two adults and two kids so that made the Hands-On part very hard but I got everyone to laugh a few times in history was fun and it was a pretty good talk. I had a guy ask me a question trying to stump me later but I gave him the best answer I could even though I didn't actually know. I just told him like with my understanding. But I still felt really good and confident and strong and very smart. Which is why I love that program.

We finished up the day pretty strong. I did get to work on my lesson plans a little bit but we were very busy at the desk so I didn't have as much Focus as I would have liked.

But it was a nice way to end the year. I mean I'll be on Constellation tomorrow night for the actual end-of-the-year but for a full day shift it was a good day.

We finished up and Sean let me leave at 5. Which was good because I was really losing steam. I have been kind of holding it together a lot because James was upset but all it was kind of hitting me at once. I picked up to the grocery store, realized it was closed, and went over to Rite Aid instead. I had stopped at my apartment to grab grocery bag and I bought a whole lot of drinks and stuff to make the pasta salad that I got for Christmas.

There's a crazy line at the store so I kind of just walked around for a while and then I paid and I went home. When I got back here I started working on my pasta salad and then I went and got all of my clothes that are not hanging up in my and put them on the ground. While my water was boiling I started sorting all of the clothing and shoe I get rid of it I keep file. Then when the pasta was cooking I went through and I separate all the sweaters out and all of the other clothes. Then once the pasta was done and I folded all of the keep clothes and put them away. Most of it summer stuff. I also put all the sweaters back in the trunk at the bottom of my bad. But it closes a lot better now so that's nice. I'm really trying to only keep clothing that really makes me happy.

I took a shower and listen to music. And now I'm playing in bed petting sweet pea and I'm looking forward to my pretend day off tomorrow. The last day of the year and me and James are supposed to spend it together. And at 7 we are working the constellation deck party. I'm looking forward to it even though it's going to be an exhausting night. I still hope that's and be fun. It's my first New Year's not in New York in years so it's going to be a little strange. But in a good way.

I hope you all sleep well tonight. Pray that the rain holds off. Or it finishes up before I have to go to work. New Year's won't be as fun if we are all wet.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S1:E4; Chapter Four, The Body - [Pt. 3]

A Will Byers x Gender Neutral!Reader Series

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘌𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘠/𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘥𝘥 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘧.

WARNINGS: Cursing. Homophobic comments from Tr*y [his in script use of the fa*ry word once]. Reader fucking SNAPS.

||𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

The five of us rode our bikes down the road to school, El on the back of Mike's bike as usual. She seemed eager to soak in everything around her like she would never see it again. Wind brushed the wig aside and she clung tightly to Mike.

Mike was beginning to slow down, the group of us all growing tired from the ride. Soon enough, however, we were walking through the back doors to the schools. Mike was in the lead as he turns to speak to us as we walked.

"Okay, remember, if anyone sees us, look sad."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

'He is still missing, isn't he?'

My thoughts were interrupted by the crackling of the speaker.

"Attention students, there will be an assembly to honor Will Byers in the gymnasium now. Do not go to fourth period."

I looked to the ceiling at the mention of my best friend and by the time I looked ahead, we had made it outside the AV room. Mike was attempting to open the door but it must be locked.

"It's locked." Mike confirmed.

"What?" Lucas asked.

"Hey, El, is there any way for you to open it?" I ask.

Before she could respond, we all jumped at the voice of Mr. Clarke and froze.

"Children," He nodded.

"Hey." Lucas breathed, obviously startled.

"Assembly's about to start."

"We know. We're just, you know..." Mike works a solemn look on his face as he spoke and the others seemed to join in, including me although it wasn't that difficult.

"Upset." Lucas nodded, dropping his nervous smile.

"Yeah, definitely upset," Dustin muttered.

I opened my mouth to speak, but thought better to say nothing at all and even looked down to the ground. Channeling all my emotions from just hours before.

"We need some alone time."

"To... cry." Dustin hesitated.

"Yeah, listen... I get it. I do. I know how hard this is, but let's just be there for Will, huh? And then," Mr. Clarke reached into his pocket and pulled out a key.

He tossed the key to Mike who caught it upon instinct.

"the Heathkit is all yours for the rest of the day. What do you say?"

We all looked to each other, wearing subtle triumphant smirks. It couldn't have been that easy, could it?

Mr. Clarke seemed to finally notice that he had no idea who El was.

"I don't believe we've met. What's your name?"

El seemed shocked and began to say 'Eleven' when Mike panicked and cut in.

"Eleanor! She's my, uh-"

"Cousin!" Lucas jumped in.

"Second cousin," Dustin added.

I started to laugh but caught myself just in time to play it off as a cough. I pretended to clear my throat as I looked to Mr. Clarke who was looking a bit confused.

"She's here for Will's funeral." Mike sighed.

Mr. Clarke seemed content with this answer as he shrugged and turned to her.

"Ah, well, welcome to Hawkins Middle, Eleanor. I wish you were here under better circumstances."

She looked to us and Mike, then turned to Mr. Clarke nodding her head. "Thank you."

A small smile fought its way into my face. She was doing great.

"Uh, where are you from exactly?"

El shook her head, sighing exasperatedly. "Bad place-"

"Sweden!" Dustin cuts in.

"I have a lot of Swedish family."

"She hates it there."

"Cold!"

"Subzero."

Meanwhile, I had fought back another laugh at the whole exchange and I had to play it off as a cough yet again.

"Are you alright, there, Y/n?"

My head snapped up, but luckily I was fairly quick on my feet this time.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I woke up with a fever, haven't been feeling well all morning. But I insisted on coming. For Will." Mr. Clarke seemed satisfied with my answer and dismissed our odd behavior.

"Shall we?"

"Yep!" We all follow Mr. Clarke to the gymnasium in silence.

As we get closer, I can hear the principal speaking from inside.

"At times like these, it is important that we come together as a community. We come-"

Dustin swung open the gymnasium doors far too hard and the loud bang echoed throughout the gym that had drawn the attention of the crowd. I elbow Dustin. I feel him shifting on his feet beside me as panic sets in.

"Abort." He whispers, turning to leave.

Thankfully, Lucas stops him and shoved him forward.

"We come together to heal... we come together to grieve..."

As the principle continues his speech, the five of us wander into the bleachers to find a seat.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Will Byers' death is an unimaginable tragedy. Will was an exceptional student and a wonderful friend to all of us. It's impossible to express the hole his loss will leave in our community. I'd like to introduce you to Sandy Sloane. She's a local grief counselor from the church over in Jonesboro."

While the principal carried on, the five of us all looked to each other, all sharing the same thought.

'We need to get to that radio. And soon.'

"I just want those of you who are having trouble dealing with this tragic loss..."

"Look at these fakers." I heard Mike whisper.

"They probably didn't even know his name till today." Lucas scoffed.

My head whipped to the side when I heard hushed chuckling. I wasn't surprised to see Troy and his friend as the source of the laughter. I glared daggers into them and my hands gripped the edge of my seat until I was sure my knuckles would tear.

The boys and El seemed quick to follow my gaze because soon enough, we were all leaning over glaring at them.

"Who is interested in this? This is so stupid." He laughed.

I grit my teeth as my vision filled with red.

"Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah..."

"Y/n..." Lucas warned, reaching out for my arm. I wasn't paying attention, but for some reason, I felt his hand leave my arm almost as soon as he grabbed it.

"'Oh, he was such a great student. Oh, he's going to leave a hole in the community.'" Troy mocked, beginning to fake sob.

I began to shake with rage, wanting nothing more than to stand up and scream 'fu-'

"Y/n,"

"What?!" I hissed at Lucas, my head whipping around to face him, my jaw clenched.

I saw fear in his eyes as he glanced between my eye line and my hands. I looked down at my own hands to see the dangerously strong grip on the wood. I yanked my hands off the bench and rubbed my hands together, keeping to myself.

I was shocked to see the faintest imprint of the most vaguely shaped hand on the bench. It was hardly noticeable and I had to do a double take.

'What the hell?'

El was leaning over and she met my gaze. She briefly looked at my hands, seeming to dismiss whatever thoughts she had. Then looked to Troy.

"Mouth breather." She whispered.

I let out a strained chuckle and nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, mouth breather." I whispered, looking back and Troy.

Eventually, the bell rang, dismissing the assembly. Even though Lucas and Dustin seemed to have let it go, Mike and I were not finished.

"Hey! Hey! Hey Troy." Mike called.

I could tell he could hear us because he barely slowed down but was clearly laughing. I stomped towards him and called him out, loud and clear.

"Hey, jackass!"

He stopped in his tracks and turned around. He seemed like he wanted to be mad, but almost like he was happy he got a rise out of us.

"You think that shit was funny?" My voice never wavered and the boys and El seemed just as shocked as I was feeling at my newfound courage.

"What'd you say, orphan?" He asked, dumbfounded.

He only called me that when he was really pissed at me.

"You heard me! And how many times do I have to tell you, I'm not an orphan if I was adopted, you dumbass! Now what the hell is in that tiny brain of yours that would compel you to laugh at someone dying, huh? I mean, shit, you must really be sick in the head. I feel sorry for you." I spit out my last few words, my voice dripping with malice.

By now I was in his face, finally letting out all the pent-up aggression I've harbored for years. And it felt good.

"Get the hell outta my face, freak!" He yells shoving me back.

I get ready to strike but Dustin grabs my arm before my fist can collide with Troy's face. I struggle to get free but my brother was determined to hold me back, with the help of Lucas of course.

"Control your 'sibling', Toothless. Or he just might lose a few teeth of his own." He glares at me and I still attempt to break free.

Mike seems to have found his voice as all of this happened because he was the next to speak.

"H-Hey, they're right! Laughing like that? That's a pretty messed up thing to do."

Troy, glares at us as his minion speaks.

"Didn't you listen to the counselor, freaks? Grief shows itself in funny ways."

"You little shit-" I attempt once more to get a right hook in but Lucas stops me.

Troy laughs at me struggling.

"Besides, what's there to be sad about, anyway? Will's in fairyland now, right? Flying around with all the other little fairies. All happy and gay!"

Lucas loosened his grip on me, silently letting me go as Troy began dancing around, mocking Will.

I swung my fist and I felt it collide with his nose with a satisfying crunch. He stumbled back and grasped his nose in surprise, and he pulled his hand away to find a few drops of blood. The crowd that had gathered while all of this unfolded, gasped in surprise. I even earned some scattered cheers among the students.

I seemed to realize the consequences of my actions, but I was prepared to face them. It was worth it. I watched as he stormed towards me, blinded by fury.

"You're dead, freak!" He stomped towards me at a shocking speed and I stumbled back, bracing myself for the inevitable retaliation but it never came.

All I felt was a sudden pair of hands on my right arm, harshly pushing me out of the way. I looked in time to see it was Mike who pushed me out of the way. I gawked in confusion at what happened next.

Troy had just begun to raise his arm as he was only inches from Mike when he froze.

He completely froze in place.

He seemed just as confused, if not more than anyone. That confusion quickly bubbled into fear as his eyes scanned the room as much as he could without moving his head.

It finally dawned on me and I spared a quick glance at El, who was laser-focused on Troy, head tilted down and the smallest hint of blood dripping from her nose. I smirked and looked back to Troy, a smug smile on my face.

I couldn't hold back the laughter as I saw his pants begin to dampen with urine. A stream of it began pooling at his leg, and it even soaked into his socks and shoes. Other students caught on quickly and one boy in particular, began laughing.

"Dude, Troy peed himself!"

The circle of kids erupted into laughter as Troy stood frozen in a puddle of his own pee. I turned to El, who wore a devilish smirk on her face as she glanced between Mike and me. She quickly wiped her nose and started walking away. The boys and I enjoyed this brief moment of bliss.

"Hey! What is going on here?" The principle shouted.

"Come on!" I whisper, gesturing for the boys who all had the same idea. Before people could start asking questions we grouped together and made our way to the AV room unnoticed.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

S.T. REWRITE - S2:E2; Chapter Two, Trick or Treat, Freak - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

After Will sees something terrible on trick-or-treat night, Mike wonders whether Eleven’s still out there. Tensions grow between Y/n and Mike as does their concern for Will.

A//N: This chapter is slightly different cause I realized I'm a complete Doof™, and I had Max and reader meet twice. It had been so long since I wrote MADMAX, that I forgot they met in the arcade lol. So if you've read this before, the scene in the hallway is different.

||Reader's POV||

"Well, good new is, this is only slightly humiliating," I mumble.

I was doing the best I could to shrink back and be as hard to notice as possible, even though I know it's a lost cause.

Unfortunately, the boys all had the same thought and I had been slowly pushed front in center.

"Oh, my God," Someone laughed.

I did my best to let the side comments and laughter slide off my back.

"Maybe its's not so bad," I tried.

"That's easy for you to say [Y/N], you're not in a proton pack and jumpsuit." Lucas said.

I winced. He did have a point, their costumes are a bit more obvious than mine.

"When do people make these decisions?" Dustin said.

I heard Will speak up behind me. "Everyone dressed up last year."

"Yeah! I mean, who are they to judge, he went as Frankenstein's monster last year, and no one laughed despite that being super played out." My anger was getting the best of me, and I made direct eye contact and let my voice rise as I uttered those last words.

The boy I had targeted, covered his laughs with a cough and grew silent fairly quickly. At least I shut someone up.

"It's a conspiracy, I'm telling you."

"Just be cool" Mike encouraged.

I took a deep breath in, and that's when we all heard some prick speak out. "Who you gonna call? The nerds!"

I had a million things I wanted to say to that kid but nevertheless I took another deep breath in. That's wen I felt a hand grab my own, and I knew it was Will. I gave his hand a light squeeze as a silent thank you and kept walking.

+++

...three to the right, four to the left.

I mindlessly repeat the combination in my head as I've done a thousand times before at this school and my locker opens once again. I let it swing open and I sigh. I pull the fake glasses off my head and fold them, putting them on the small shelf in the locker space. I reach forward and grab my textbook and notebook after scanning for them. It's then that I barely make out my brother's voice.

"...so you probably don't have any friends to take you trick-or-treating,"

I frown and look over to find them just down the hall. Talking to Max. Or, attempting to at least. I continue to exchange my things and get ready for the next class. Although, I can't help but wince when I hear him continue.

"and you're scared of bullies, so we were thinking that it would be okay if you come with us."

My eyes widened slightly, and I took that as my cue.

"'It'd be okay'?"

My eyes widened slightly and I took that as my cue to jump in. I closed my locker and quickly reset the dial.

"Yeah. Our party's a democracy, and the majority voted that you could come."

I quickly made my way over, my things held tightly against my chest. I smiled and spoke up.

"Hey guys," I chirped. I made eye contact with Max and I chose my words carefully. "How are you guys?"

I ignored the frantic and slightly confused looks Dustin and Lucas were desperately trying to send my way.

Max smiled knowingly at me.

"I'm good." And I knew, just like me, she had a double meaning to that.

She turned back to the guys and plastered on a fake smile.

"I didn't realize it was such an honor to go trick-or-treating with you." I couldn't help but smirk at that.

"Yeah, I mean, we know where to get the full-sized candy bars. We figured you'd want in."

Her eyes squinted ever so slightly. "That's presumptuous of you."

I stood there awkwardly before I recalled that Max and I had our next class together.

Desperately wanting to change the subject, I smiled and turned to her. She was already closing her locker.

"Wanna head to class?"

"Sure thing." She smiled, and the two of us walked away, leaving the boys a gaping mess.

I felt kinda bad for the guys, but at the same time, I hadn't realized how nice, and refreshing it was to have another female friend for once.

||3rd person POV||

Max felt a looming sense of dread knowing it was time to go home. Which meant another painful care ride with him. She hated even being around him, he made her life a living hell. As she skated across the parking lot, she knew he was gonna threaten her in some way for being late. She didn't feel bad though, of course.

"You're late again."

"Yeah, I had to get catch-up homework." She mumbled, opening the passenger door and climbing in.

"Jesus. I don't care. You're late again, and you're skating home. Do you hear me?"

+++

Max sits quietly, wishing with all of her might that the car ride could just be over. 

Billy, her older step-brother blasts the song Wango Tango as he drives, wrecklously down the road. He scoffs.

"God, this place is such a shithole."

Max thinks of the [Y/N], the only girl who had actually been nice to her, despite her own short temper. Her only real friend since moving here.

"It's not that bad,"

He looks at her, and she knows - she knew as soon as she said something, anything, Billy would find away to use that against her. And sure enough.

"No?" He said, angrily.

She watched as he reached for the window mechanism and rolled down her window. He watched smugly as she winced at the smell and harsh wave of cold crisp air. He took a deep breath, and pulled his nose.

"You smell that, Max? That's actually shit. Cow shit."

"I don't see any cows." She said, matter-of-factly, reaching over and rolling up the windows.

"Clearly, you haven't met the high-school girls."

Max's head threw itself back at the headrest at the comment. She felt her anger boiling up, but she tried to keep it down.

"So what, you like it here now?" He snapped.

"No," she said defensively.

"Then why are you defending it?"

"I'm not."

Max knew he was getting angry again. He knew his pattern by now and she knew he was already up to no good. He loved to corner her.

"Sure sounds like it," He said calmly.

Max hated it when he got calm like this. It always meant he was going to snap. Go too far. Her heart began to pound. She shook her head, tying to regain her composure.

"It's just we're stuck here, so..."

"Hmm. You're right. We're stuck here," She felt his head turn and his eyes zero in on her. "and whose fault is that?"

"yours."

His attention when back to the road. She couldn't help it, her anger was getting the best of her, and the answer came out in a weak whisper she prayed he didn't hear. But he did, and she knew 

he was going to do anything to make her pay.

He looked at her, then back at the road but then back at her. "What'd you say?"

Max felt like she was shrinking. "Nothing," She mumbled, quickly.

Billy got calm again. Her heart began to beat faster once more. "Did you say it's my fault?"

"No," she said quickly.

"You know whose fault it is."

She stayed quiet. Max knew anything she said would it would piss him off. Her words failed her.

"Say it,"

Her eyes began to burn, but she refused to cry. He always made her feel weak and powerless and she knew she might not be able to do anything now, but she sure as hell wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

"Max..." He said lowly, drawing out her name. "Say it." He growled.

He whirled towards her in his seat, his face inches away from hers. His face was completely red as he screamed his throat raw. "Say it!"

She closed her eyes tried to ignore him. Even though she could feel his spit on her face, and his screams were loud enough to vibrate the car. She couldn't let him see how he got to her.

He returned to road, and reached for the volume dial, cranking it all the way up. His foot stomped on the gas and the car was suddenly going unnaturally fast. Billy threw his hands on wheel to every beat of the song.

She let him take it out on the car, grateful it wasn't her. But she knew there was nothing she could do to stop him anyway, right?

She was prepared to make it through the rest of the car ride, but her pounding heart stopped, her breath hitched and her eyes went wide when she saw four figures on their bikes in the middle of the road, not far up ahead.

"Billy, slow down." She said, quickly.

"Oh, these your new hick friends?" he asked, a scary gleam in his eye.

She quickly shook her head. "No! I don't know them."

"I guess you won't care if I hit 'em, then?"

Max knew Billy was crazy. He was out of his damn mind, but what terrified her most, was that she truly and honestly did not know if he was crazy enough to hit some kids with his car. She felt sick to her stomach, everything was going too fast and her heart began pounding faster and faster. 

"I get bonus points, I get 'em all in one go?" he asked excitedly.

The car was getting close and just like that, her fear was quickly replaced by anger and her adrenaline was pumping. She whirled herself around all the way to face her nasty scum of a step-brother and her voice was rising. "No, Billy, stop. It's not funny."

His body kept dancing, his head bobbing and hands drumming themselves against the steering wheel, but his head turned to her and his eyes were stone cold. He had no emotion in his face and it was enough to send a chill down her spine, but she knew now wasn't the time. He stomped on the gas pedal and the car roared.

Max wondered to herself why and how in the hell do these idiots not here this car and why the hell aren't they moving?!

She kept an eye on the road, the kids, the girl - [Y/N] - noticed the car coming first.

'Why the hell, aren't they moving?' she thought.

Max found her voice one more and screamed at the top her lungs. "Billy, come on, stop it. It's not funny. Stop!" The car got faster.

What she feared most was coming true. He snapped, and he might as well have been in trance cause he was laser focused, she was positive he hadn't even blinked, and she knew it didn't matter whether or not he had any intention of stopping. She couldn't afford to sit around and wait, they were only a few feet in front of them.

"Billy, stop it!"

With a racing heart, Max lunged forward, gripping the steering wheel and the car swerved to the left, just in the nick of time. 

Billy came to life and started shouting again. "Yeah! That was a close one, huh?"

He let out a wild and crazed laugh, and Max whipped around in her seat, peering out the back to see her classmates emerging form the leaves on the side of the road. She was unable to get a good look, the car was over the hill within seconds and they were out of sight. But she breathed a sigh of relief knowing they were alive.

+++

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