#i still want to move back to london but for now i'll stick to being (mostly) local

[jtownraindancer]

someone stop me i keep finding cute apartments in philly

[catboylister]

i joined the fandom secret santa organised by @narlieweek !! so this is my gift for @renskiii-10 , merry christmas :] i hope its okay for you aaa . i do definitely want to expand on this though, maybe turn it into a longer fic b4 i post it on ao3 so if u have anything else youd like to see then dm me bff lmaoao

Lister isn't sure what brought him here. Maybe it was because the flat felt too lonely with Rowan and Jimmy visiting their own families. Maybe London is a lot shittier than he thought.

Maybe he just missed his mum.

Standing in the rain, Lister attempts to gather the courage to knock on the door. He raises a fist, and lets it tap the glass gently, not nearly loud enough to be heared. The door opens before he can try again.

"Allister?" Louise stares at him for a few seconds; shocked, before reaching out a hand towards his cheek. He melts into her touch immediately, not realising how much he missed it.

"How did you know I was here?" He asks with an awkward laugh.

"Saw you through the camera. On the doorbell," her hands fall to his, and she starts to pull him inside, "get inside. You're soaked. Where's you're coat? You'll get a cold being outside dressed like that.”

Lister glances to the side, catching sight of one of those fancy, smart doorbells that people with money buy because they own stuff that is actually worth stealing. They have that now.

The door clicks shut behind him as he stands still in the unfamiliar hallway. It's been repainted since he was last here… When? A year ago? Two, maybe? He can't think of what colour it used to be, all he knows is that it wasn't the pale gray it is now.

The same red and gold tinsel he used to decorate their tiny, plastic Christmas tree, is wrapped around the staircase banister. It was forgotten in the attic when they finally moved house, only for him to be trapped on tour abroad by the time the holidays finally came around. He spent that Christmas with Jimmy and Rowan, fucking about in hotel rooms and tour buses, excited to have three consecuitve days off. Louise never bought a tree that year.

"You must be freezing," a warm towel is wrapped around his shoulders, "go get something warm on, I'll make you some tea if you want."

He nods as he's ushered upstairs, making his way to his bedroom. Everything is untouched since he packed half his things and moved to London. A worn Spiderman poster still sticks to the wall, one of the corners beginning to peel away, and a light layer of dust coats his dresser. Less than he imagined there would be. The same checkered sheets are messily thrown over his bed, completely untouched. He's almost spent more time on stage than in this bed.

Only once he gets changed does Lister realise that the only spare clothes he packed is a loose t-shirt and a thin pair of pyjama pants. He breifly expects a familiar coldness he grew used through winter when he was younger. That coldness never comes.

Making his way downstairs, he hears his mother humming to herself.

"Hi-"

"Jesus fucking Christ-" tea spills over the edge of one of the mugs as Louise turns around. She laughs, "you always do that. It's terrifying."

"Do I?"

"Yeah, you'd do it a lot when you were little. I swear you used to do it on purpose, you're lucky you haven't given me a heart attack," as she speaks, Lister walks towards her and leans down, resting his head on her shoulder. It doesn't take long before she's wrapping her arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly. The way she would when he was a child.

"I've missed you."

Lister hugs her back, mumbling, "I missed you too." He isn't sure she heard him, he hopes she didn't. He probably sounds like he's about to cry. Maybe he is. Either way, he can feel her hands rubbing his back and the way she shakes slightly from standing on her tip-toes for too long.

Silently, Louise guides him into the living room. He leans on her again as they sit together on her sofa, another thing he doesn't recognise. At some point, a warm mug makes its way into his hands and a blanket is thrown over the both of them. A movie he's never heard of plays on the flatscreen in front of him.

It takes him a while to notice, but in the corner is a tree. A real one. Decorated with a mix of brand new, shiny baubles and old decorations he made back in primary school. A clay angel that's missing one of her wings. A crayon coloured elf hanging on by a piece of thread shoved through a hole in his hat. Something made out of pipe-cleaners. He has no idea what that was supposed to be. They look a little out of place next to everything else.

Nothing is underneath it.

When he was seven, he woke up to an empty tree. He had only asked for one thing. A transformer figure he had wanted for earlier that year but never got because apparently more important.

He cried over it all morning, convinced he must've done something really bad. Now that he's older, he realises that wasn't the case. Good or bad have nothing to do with it. The kids who don't get anything are just unlucky.

“I'm sorry,” he mumbles from beneath the blanket.

“What?” Louise says, pausing the movie to look at him instead, “what are you sorry for?”

“I didn't bring you anything…” Lister says, which isn't nearly half of what he wants to say. He wants to apologise for everything. For not visiting sooner. For not calling her enough. For being a difficult child and an even more difficult teenager.

“Oh. Don't be silly,” she says, running a hand through his hair, still wet from the rain. Lister pulls the blanket to him tighter.

“Don't fall asleep on me. I can't carry you anymore.”

“I won't,” he says, but he does.

[everythingheard]

roleplay history

the rules are simple! post characters you’d like to roleplay as, have roleplayed as, and might bring back. then tag people to do the same. please repost, don’t reblog!

current

i'm just going to list a few of my current muses on this blog that i'd love to have more interactions for —

b.ernie h.ayes — m.onsterverse ( he's such a tragic character, very much a "cassandra figure" exiled for predicting the truth and rarely given his due, and i love writing him and his weirdness whenever i get the chance. this fandom is dead af, at least as far as rp is concerned, so i'd love to try tossing him into some aus if anyone was game. also, someone give me a trapper to write him with, i'm begging you; i do also write trapper myself lmao so if you'd want to swap roles and try your hand at bernie, i'd be down, it's always great to see bernie get more love. )

clemens — d.racula/last voyage of the d.emeter ( i love him so much, and i have so many ideas. he starts hunting vampires in 1897 in london after encountering d.racula at sea, and i'd love for him to meet other kinds of supernatural beings, or maybe even vampires who aren't evil. i also like the idea of an age of sail situation, with supernatural shit involved or not. )

r. m. r.enfield — r.enfield/d.racula ( one of my favorite underrated characters ever, and one i've spent copious amounts of time creating backstory and headcanons for. now that i've moved him from his own blog to here, i'd love to continue exploring him through rp. i'd love period threads, or threads set in the modern day; let him meet non-evil vampires, let him explore more of the supernatural world in general. be his roommate, idk. hell, let him be a muse's familiar but in a not toxic way! i have so many ideas and verses for this weirdo. )

sam singh-benford — r.esident e.vil oc ( sam is an oc i'm very proud of, and i'll always jump at the chance to write him more often. his passion as a photojournalist and his connections get him into a lot of dangerous places, and sometimes into a lot of trouble, but i love his resilience and determination to reveal the truth. he can easily cross paths with a lot of re muses, canon or other ocs. i guarantee you, he'll find a way lmao. )

past

f.itzwilliam d.arcy — p.ride and p.rejudice ( i loved writing this socially awkward man lmao. it was through this muse that i met some people i still talk with to this day, and one good friend i even still rp with on this blog. i know it's sacrilege, but i used his zombies verse the most, since t.wd fandom was really big, as well as re, and i enjoyed it so much. idk if i'll ever revisit him as a muse, but he helped me grow my writing immensely. )

s.am l.oomis — h.alloween ( i've written him on-and-off for years. we're off again at the moment because i didn't find many people interested in interacting with him at this point in time, but he might reappear if that changes. regardless, eventually, he always comes back lmao. )

d.avid c.ollins — the g.uest ( a niche muse that i'd bring back in a heartbeat tbh. the friend i wrote him with left tumblr rp, and i tried making verses for him in other fandoms, but no interactions ever really stuck. i still have long headcanon posts for him in my drafts here and a lot of interest in rping him again whether in canon or other verses, but i understand that people aren't always interested in writing with muses from a fandom they're not in. maybe someday! )

possible future

e.ddie b.rock/v.enom — m.arvel ( they're two separate characters, but i'm sticking them here together anyway bc of course i am. i haven't written either of them in a long time, but the muse is musing lmao. i like writing them together or apart, and i'd honestly be open to writing eddie against a v.enom or v.enom against an eddie, i feel like that would be really fun. i'm not 100% if i'm bringing them to this blog, but i'm currently removing a few muses i'm not using so there will be room...... )

k.anan j.arrus — s.tar w.ars ( i thought about adding back he and zeb together, but ultimately just brought zeb back for now. i think i want to reread the k.anan comics before i truly consider writing him again. )

f.iyero t.igelaar — w.icked ( this is a big maybe. this is my favorite musical and i'd like to write a muse i love from it, but idk if i'm going to at this moment. i am Unsure. )

fantasy oc ( sort of want to try rping with my fantasy oc. he'd obviously fit into a generic fantasy setting, but also l.otr, w.itcher, d.nd, d.ragon a.ge, even h.ellboy. we'll see. )

tagged by: @dhampiravidi ( thanks so much! ) tagging: @paramoira @amused-bouche @gotnowhereelsetogo @halliwellauto

@ofrcgency @timeguardians @dynastymuses + whoever else wants to do this.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Ooh! Ooh! For hurt/comfort prompt: “You really don’t realize just how many people love you, do you?”

Pairing: Crosie

Every morning, Harry meets with Jack to discuss the latest sortie plans. Even with the success of Big Week and D-Day, there are still missions to plan and places to bomb. The Germans aren't giving ground, so they're having to continue to take it one drop at a time. 

"One more thing," Jack says when Harry puts down his empty coffee cup after they've finished all the business Harry knows they're meant to discuss. 

Harry clenches his fingertips on his cup for one moment, then lets go. "What is it?" he asks, though he knows it's about Rosie. It's been about Rosie every time Jack's held him for one more bit of news. It's how he found out Rosie was alive. That Rosie had a broken arm. That the Russians were getting Rosie back to them, though it would take awhile.

He hasn't been able to write, not on the move with the Russians, but Harry's written him. Filled a whole little notebook in the last six weeks with everything he'd tell Rosie if he was here. It's helped him focus, to write down every little thing. To think of Rosie as alive and doing his best to come back to him.

"He's due back tomorrow," Jack says, and for the first time in a long time, Harry sees Jack smile. "Not exactly sure what time, but tomorrow."

Harry stares. He blinks. He lets out a sharp laugh. "Yeah?" he asks, jumping up. "Really?!"

Jack stands. "Really," he says. He gives Harry a considering look, then shrugs and opens his arms. "Come on," he says. 

Harry laughs again and wraps Jack in a tight hug. "Jesus, Jack, talk about burying the lede." 

Jack chuckles and squeezes Harry back. "I needed you to work a little today."

Harry pulls back and grips Jack's biceps. "Thank you, Jack."

Jack scoffs. "For what?"

Harry thinks about how many nights he worked late and left while Jack's light still showed under his office door. He thinks about the way Jack's laughed less and gotten even quieter than he ever had been as the pilot to Harry's navigator. The way he deflated when Harding had to be med-evaced to London and didn't brighten up again until word came that Harding was fine and would be stationed in London. How he hadn't really smiled again until he'd actually gone to London on leave and seen the man himself. "For all of it," Harry says. "For…being Air Exec. Taking on having to give the shit news." 

Jack stares at him. "Who else could have done it?" he asks. 

Harry lets go of Jack's biceps so he can grab his face in a rough show of affection. "That doesn't make it less impressive you've pulled it off, Jack."

Jack closes his eyes for a long moment, and then he pushes hard at Harry's chest, but not enough to actually knock him off balance. "Get out of my office, Crosby. I don't need your lovestruck stupidity to stick to the furniture."

"Pretty sure you've got that covered with Harding," Harry says, and he hoots as Jack kicks at him and chases him from the room.

Harry jogs all the way out of headquarters and into the bright sunlight of the morning. He stops a few yards away from the door and lifts his face to the sky. He's had a hard time looking up since Rosie went down, felt like it was bad luck to check the sky for anything. But now, knowing Rosie's due back tomorrow, it's the easiest thing in the world. 

*

Harry watches from the control tower balcony as Rosie's Jeep drives through base. He beams at the sight of all the boys running alongside. He can't see Rosie clearly, but he sees the way he ducks his head and knows he's blushing. He wants to run alongside with the boys, but if he gets close enough to touch Rosie, he won't let go, and Rosie needs to debrief. He's given Red a note to pass to Rosie: 

My Rosie: 

I'll meet you under the control tower when you're done. Take your time. I can wait a little bit more to get you all to myself. 

I love you so much. 

Harry

The Jeep stops at headquarters, and Harry uses his binoculars to see Rosie's face as he tries to get out of the vehicle and go inside. He's not swarmed, but it's a close thing. Harry feels warm and happy at the way the men crowd around to pat Rosie's back and push him gently to his objective. 

Once Rosie's inside, Harry goes into the control tower to look at the latest weather reports while he waits for Rosie to find him. 

*

It's two hours later when Rosie finds him. Harry's been under the control tower for ten minutes, adding one final entry to the little notebook he's kept since Rosie went down. 

"Oh, there you are," Rosie says and drops on the ground next to Harry. "Red gave me your–"

Harry cups the back of Rosie's head and kisses him, spreading his other hand over Rosie's chest and pushing against him until he can feel his heartbeat. Rosie kisses him back with similar fervor, looping an arm around Harry's neck and placing his other hand over Harry's on his chest. 

When Harry pulls away, Rosie drops his head into Harry's lap and smiles at him. "There's my fella," Rosie says. "Fuck, I missed you."

"Missed you, too," Harry says. He touches his fingertips to Rosie's lips and smiles when Rosie kisses them. "Saw your hero's welcome," he says. "It looked nice."

Rosie shrugs and turns his head, presses a kiss to Harry's belly and takes a deep breath in. "It was good," he says, his voice a little muffled. "Kind of odd to see them all run up like that."

Harry combs his fingers through Rosie's hair. "Really? It was much more sedate than I would have expected."

Rosie looks up at Harry, his brow furrowed. "Huh?" he says. 

"I said it was much more sedate than I expected," Harry says. "Pretty impressive they didn't dogpile you, really."

Rosie laughs. "Sure," he says.

Harry curls his fingers in Rosie's jacket and gives him a little shake. "Don't joke. You came back from the dead."

"Well, not really. Red told me they made a base-wide announcement that I was all right."

"We did," Harry agrees. "But that doesn't mean it isn't wild to see you show up after all this time."

Rosie levers himself up on his wrists. He winces and clearly shifts his weight off his just-healed arm. "What are you talking about?" he asks. "You knew I was headed back. Everyone did."

Harry gets both arms around Rosie's middle and drags him into his lap sideways. Rosie flails and giggles, then leans into Harry with easy confidence. Harry presses a kiss to his forehead. "You really don't realize just how many people love you, do you?" Harry asks.

"The boys like me fine," Rosie says. "But I wouldn't say they love me." He shifts so he can press his mouth against Harry's neck, and then kiss his cheek. "Now, you, I know you love me."

"I do," Harry says. "Rosie, I love you so much. You have no idea the relief I felt knowing you hadn't died."

Rosie kisses his cheek again. He reaches up and cups Harry's jaw. "I'm sorry I went down, sweetheart."

Harry can't help the bitter laugh at that. "You're a pilot. Odds were against you staying up in the air from the beginning."

Rosie huffs and shifts so he can see Harry's eyes. "Well, you'll be happy to hear I've been grounded."

Harry's heart slams in his chest. "What?" he gasps. His fingers drag across the back of Rosie's hand on his face until he can curl them around Rosie's wrist. "WHAT." 

Rosie smiles, though it's a little bittersweet. "Yeah. Humanitarian missions only. I tried to argue my way out of it, but he…well, he shouted me down."

Harry laughs, much more open and joyous than the previous one. "Holy shit," he says. He holds Rosie's face in his hands and kisses him hard and messy and giddy. "Holy shit," he says. He thinks of the notebook he has with him. Full of people asking after Rosie, of checking in on Crosby. Of stories of the base–stories of the boys telling stories about Rosie to give the replacements something to hope for.

..."he went down, but he's coming back. You might get that lucky." I wanted to scold Douglass for the phrasing, but honestly, what better luck could there be? Fuck, Rosie, the way I miss you, the luckiest goddamn pilot to ever fly…

"Promise you'll still love me on the ground?" Rosie asks. "I'm really hoping it wasn't just my flying skills that got you interested, Harry."

Harry kisses Robert's mouth, then his cheeks, then his forehead, and then his nose. "I'll love you in the air and on the ground and inside and outside and upside down."

Rosie tips his head back and laughs, and Harry kisses his Adam's Apple and decides he needs to add one last note to the notebook before giving it to Rosie to read. A final letter promising to love him forever, putting it down in writing so Rosie can know without question how much one person loves him.

[peakyblindersxx]

May I request a john smut in which, despite being the cocky beast that he usually is, he manages to get all gentle and intense when, after years of mutual pining, he finally makes love to ada's best friend who's younger and totally inexperienced. Idk I just need this to be fucking intense, like John suffocating his desire for ages and now finally indulging in his worst temptation and showing her what lust is... please i'll burn in hellll

a/n: first of all let me say: this killed me. like, it’s literally all i can think about. god help me. but thank you so fucking much for requesting this bc i liked it sooo much that i decided to make a mini series out of it with the help of my babe @stxdyblr-2k who was sweet enough to offer to ghostwrite on the series 🥰 and to all my other angels who requested fics, don’t worry i will get them done! just wanna give you guys the best quality work i can. my 1st priority are some tommy requests i got, as well as some michael ones after :)

love, abi xxx

whiskey business - john shelby x reader (1 of ?)

warnings: nsfw! eventual smut, slow burn, john being sexy as all hell but also soft

John couldn’t tear his eyes off of you. From the moment you walked into the Garrison, arm loosely linked with Ada’s, clad in a black lace dress that hugged you just right, he couldn’t stop staring. Even Tommy and Arthur had noticed, cracking some joke about him being pussy whipped. The words floated right over his head, his mind on one thing only. The last time he had seen you, you were barely eighteen, cheeks pink as you waved goodbye out the train window to Ada as she sobbed. Ada had always had a flair for the dramatic, but the two of you had practically been attached at the hip your entire lives. So, he consoled her, reminding her that university wasn’t forever, that you would be back soon enough. And back, you were, red-stained lips sipping at a glass of something that Ada had practically shoved in your face. You weren’t a girl anymore, black heels crossed at the ankle as you sat across the room in a booth, laughing as Ada waved her arms, telling some sort of story.

“Just fuckin’ talk to ‘er, John-boy,” Arthur’s voice cut through John’s train of thought like a sharp knife, and he focused his eyes on his two brothers sitting at the booth across from him, clouds of smoke from Tommy’s incessant smoking heavy in the air around them.

“Fuck off,” John returned as he stood, earning a chuckle from Tommy.

“That’s right,” Arthur shouted as John made his way towards the bar, rolling his eyes at his older brothers. “Make sure you show her a real good time, eh?” Arthur’s voice was soon drowned out by the crowd around John, as they parted to let him walk through. He didn’t even see them, his eyes trained on your smile. Fuck, you were pretty.

***

“So, then I fucking kicked him in the balls.” Ada’s eyes sparkled triumphantly as she recalled the time she’d incited a riot, managing to cause great injury to a certain part of a policeman’s body. She did so casually, like it was no big deal. You couldn’t control your laughter as Ada grinned, pleased that she’d been able to make you laugh. “Fuckin’ missed you, Y/N,” she professed, shooting the rest of her gin and gesturing at the bartender to “leave the fuckin’ bottle, already.”

“Missed you too,” you smiled back at her, happy to be back in Birmingham in the company of an old friend. London was beautiful, but lonely. There was something inside you that missed the dirty streets, the crowded pubs bursting with familiar faces.

“Had to come over here myself to make sure it was you,” A deep voice interrupted your reverie and you looked up to see none other than Ada’s older brother John, looking even handsomer than the last time you’d seen him, in a grey-three piece suit, a cigar hanging from his lips. You’d had the hugest crush on him growing up, and the butterflies swimming around in your stomach seemed to confirm that you still found the tallest Shelby brother irresistible.

“Hi, John,” You offered him a shy smile and scooched over as he slid into the booth next to you, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. You couldn’t help but drink in the smell of his cologne, the various drinks that Ada had encouraged you to down making you press yourself closer to him.

“M’kay, if you’re going to fuck, at least wait until I’m gone.” Ada’s voice snapped you out of it and you looked away, a pink blush staining your cheeks.

“Says the one who managed to fuck three of my best mates before you left school,” John retorted, causing Ada to roll her eyes, shooting her whiskey and pouring the three of you another glass each.

“I feel like getting drunk, and I’m not doing it alone,” Ada announced, causing both you and John to crack a smile at her forcefulness.

“Good thing we took a cab here,” you returned, before shooting your whiskey. If you were going to have to stare at John all night, you thought, you might as well be drunk doing it. Wasn’t like he was going to be staring back.

***

Ada was shitfaced, dancing in the middle of the pub. Luckily, Isaiah had stepped in as her partner, making sure her stumbling didn’t cause her to trip and fall. Unluckily for you, this left a tipsy you and John alone tucked into a booth in the corner of the room, out of view. The conversation was friendly, and you were trying your best to keep your mind off the way you could see John’s forearms practically bulging out of his suit. It wasn’t fair, you thought to yourself, for him to walk around looking like that. Especially when you knew that he was probably fucking the latest movie star, or something. It was almost impossible for you to keep your head straight, yet you managed to keep it civil. However, you couldn’t help your gaze from drifting to his lips. God, they were so pink and looked so soft, it was unfair. You couldn’t stop yourself from imagining how they’d feel on your mouth, let alone other parts of your body. Jesus, you were fucked.

A third of a bottle of whiskey later, you couldn’t help but let yourself slide closer to him, heart beating fast in your chest as you sat tucked into his side, his arm around you as you laughed at a joke he’d made, something about the stick up Tommy’s ass. Your eyes shone as they met his blue ones, his arm sliding down until his fingers were brushing against your waist, radiating heat into your skin.

“Y’know, I’d tell you how fuckin’ pretty you look tonight, but I think you already know that,” John rumbled into your ear, lips just barely brushing against your neck. Your breath hitched, and he noticed, a small grin spreading across his lips.

“You’re something else, you know that?” You shot back, a small smile threatening to take over your lips.

“M’not just sayin’ that. Couldn’t take my eyes off ‘ya, since you walked in.” John wasn’t kidding. For a second you didn’t know how to reply, staring up at him with a slight look of disbelief. The whiskey, however, had other plans, and had decided to respond for you.

“Can't keep your hands off me now." You smirked, waiting for him to escalate the moment, anticipation and liquor silencing the blaring alarm in your mind. God, you shouldn't want him as badly as you do.

"Can you blame me?" He muttered, dragging his fingers across the lace of your dress, tracing the pattern's loops absentmindedly, watching your jaw tense and lips part to take a gasping breath, your jacket having long vanished into the chaos of the pub. Your arms wound themselves around his neck, fingers twisting into his short hair. "Fucking come 'ere lass."

His strong arms lifted you onto his knee, gripping a thigh to help you balance, the friction of his rough hand against the stiff fabric pushing your dress up slightly. The need for more and the desire to know him completely intoxicated you far more than anything from a bottle; you'd never felt as though you were on fire from your drunk hookups. His fingers found the zip of your dress, tugging it down desperately, gripping the flesh of your exposed shoulder blades. A small groan erupted from your lips as you felt him chuckle below you, pressing a thumb to your lips to quieten you.

"John," you whined, pouting playfully against his thumb.

"I'll sort you out, I swear," He muttered, slipping his thumb between your lips. Instinctively, you sucked, locking eyes with him, his hand straying from your back to roughly grab your jaw, holding your gaze. "But if you're going to scream your 'ead off, we'll get caught."

"You wish you could make me scream, John-lad."

"Come off it, I could ruin you, Y/N." He stated, lifting your jaw, as though memorising the construction of your face, tone brimming with a cocky confidence only John could make attractive. "You want that?"

"More than anything." The words tumbled out of your mouth thoughtlessly, watching how his jaw tightened in response as you attempted to read his expression. He studied you for what must've only been a few seconds, but the moment passed so slowly, you could barely remember what it felt like to not be examined by his dominating blue eyed stare.

His grip guided your face to his, fingers tilting your chin so John's lips could brush against yours, before pulling you into a heated almost aggressive kiss, the straps of your dress barely grazing your shoulders, the hem of your dress bunching around your waist as he reached down your back to grab your bum in a firm squeeze. Your mouth gaped open in a gasp of pleasure, John taking the moment to run his tongue against your lips, gaining access and deepening the kiss. You were so caught up in the thrill of John's seduction that you hadn't noticed his hand suddenly pull away after moving your skimpy underwear to one side. You had instinctively ground your hips against him, he'd broken the kiss to let out a string of curses, complimenting you through his quickening breaths (“Fuckin’ wet for me already, aye?”), gripping your thigh. But as soon as he had pulled the thin silk from your thighs, the atmosphere shifted, his lip curling in frustration as his hands left your skin as though your flesh was suddenly scalding.

"John?" You prompted, resting a hand on his shoulder, noticing the dark shadows under his eyes for the first time.

"It's getting late."

"What?" Your voice sounded high and whiny, you mentally scolded yourself for sounding so needy. It was embarrassing to be rejected by the man you've admired for many years, but even worse to be openly vulnerable and so pathetic in front of your best friend's brother.

Ada.

Oh fuck.

Realisation hit you, it was either that or the unholy quantity of alcohol you'd downed which turned your stomach. You had gone too far this time. It was one thing to flirt with John and desire him from a distance, it was an absolute betrayal to have sex with him, knowing Ada's insecurity about being used to get close to her gangster brothers- sex, power and politics. You had sworn during those tearful walks around the canal that you'd never hurt her. You couldn't do that to her.

Your sudden panic must've been obvious, you tried to stand up from John's lap, stumbling slightly, only regaining balance due to a sudden arm across your back, anchoring you upright.

"No one has to know. It's our secret yeah?" He muttered into your ear, his words comforting.

You nodded silently, the reality of the situation settling in. Your hands are shaking by your sides, John catches them, locking his fingers with yours.

"It's fine, now. Nothing happened yeah?" He stood up in front of you, his muscular physique looming before you, the creases across his torso reminding you that just a few minutes ago his body was under yours, he was breathless, needing your skin against his, desperate and vulnerable. "I'll zip you up. Turn around."

His hands dropped from yours to fumble clumsily with your zip, struggling in the gloom and fog of intoxication, he eventually succeeded, the lace clinging to the curve of your hips, waist, back and chest again. You wished it was him instead that was skimming your figure but you pushed the thought away with a simple, "Thanks."

"I'll walk you home yeah?" He offered, as he straightens your skirt and his tie, allowing you to fix his crumpled shirt collar and the row of shining buttons below his throat which you'd ripped open as he whispered dirty nonsense in your ear, smirking at how you arched your back and swore back at him through your moans.

"Isaiah already said he would, it'd be better for us both that way. You know how people around here talk." You replied, glancing at the mirror on the wall of the booth to quickly smooth your tousled hair. Despite only recently returning to Small Heath, you'd already encountered the rife gossiping and quickly realised your neighbour was incapable of minding his own business. "Nobody has to know, right?"

John nodded, disappointed but appreciating your rationale and quick thinking despite your state, "Right."

"Good night, John," You said politely, ignoring the tension in his tone and the sudden soft sadness of his eyes, turning your back and walking to the door. Back to the sticky dance floor, back to Ada, Isaiah, Finn, Tokyo, back to spilling drinks, ashing cigarettes, back to noise, safety and far from the man who made your morals vanish with the same lines he uses on probably every single one of his conquests. Fuck it. You were going to enjoy it, you sped up your pace in your heels, trying to ignore your shaking legs. You tried to ignore the guilty twang in your gut when Ada screamed your name across the pub and stumbled over, dragging some lad on her arm, pressing drunken kisses to your forehead and cheeks.

You couldn't help but look back to see his shadow sloping away into the darkness of the booths closer to the dance floor, being bullied mercilessly by his brothers you assumed. You watched him fake a smirk, take the knuckles to his brow from Arthur, snap an insult back to Thomas and settle into his rightful seat. You only shifted your gaze to Ada for a moment but when you looked back up, he was staring at you, jaw tense, icy stare burning into yours, arms folded on the table, the gold chains of his sleeve garters barely glinting in the dim light. He looked away but you could see his cheeks were flushed with blood even in the glow of the oil lamps.

Pretending nothing happened was going to be impossible.

***

to be continued!

[luckydragon10]

P&P Chapter 48 and 49

(Chapter 47)

Sentimeter check!

Darcy holding at -5 (because he is barely in this book and therefore barely moves on the meter).

Lizzy rose to +10.

~~~

Chapter 48

All Meryton seemed striving to blacken the man who, but three months before, had been almost an angel of light.

Ahh, small town shenanigans. Seems about right.

(Mr. Collins' letter) "The death of your daughter would have been a blessing in comparison of this."

Just when I thought I was free of him in the plot, he comes back with a vengeance.

He's shown up to provide contrast for something else, isn't he? I sure hope so.

(Mr. Collins' letter) "Let me then advise you, dear sir, to console yourself as much as possible, to throw off your unworthy child from your affection for ever, and leave her to reap the fruits of her own heinous offense."

Of course.

I... wait, woah, woah, WHAT? We get that letter from Mr. Collins and then the book doesn't describe Lizzy or Jane reacting to it.

That. Is. Fucking. Weird. What? WHAT?

(Why do I feel like it might have gotten written and then cut?)

When Mrs. Bennet was told of this, she did not express so much satisfaction as her children expected, considering what her anxiety for his life had been before. “What, is he coming home, and without poor Lydia?” she cried. “Sure he will not leave London before he has found them. Who is to fight Wickham, and make him marry her, if he comes away?”

This clown doesn't know she's even a clown, and that makes it all the funnier.

Mr. Bennet: “Say nothing of that. Who should suffer but myself? It has been my own doing, and I ought to feel it.”

*solemn nodding*

Mr. Bennet: “You may well warn me against such an evil. Human nature is so prone to fall into it! No, Lizzy, let me once in my life feel how much I have been to blame. I am not afraid of being overpowered by the impression. It will pass away soon enough.”

My own translation of Mr. Bennet: I am experiencing a deep emotion, but I'm sure my apathy will be back in just a bit, so I'll just go ahead and feel this right now, thank you.

I appreciate that he means to keep a better eye on Kitty and hope he sticks to it.

Still really, really think it's weird that there was zero reaction from Jane or Lizzy to that letter from Mr. Collins.

~~~

Chapter 49

Uncle Gardiner's letter: "All that is required of you is, to assure to your daughter, by settlement, her equal share of the five thousand pounds secured among your children after the decease of yourself and my sister; and, moreover, to enter into an engagement of allowing her, during your life, one hundred pounds per annum."

So basically a hostage situation. Ish. In which we aren't entirely sure whether Lydia knows she's a hostage at this point.

Mr. Bennet: “Yes, yes, they must marry. There is nothing else to be done. But there are two things that I want very much to know; one is, how much money your uncle has laid down to bring it about; and the other, how am I ever to pay him.”

I appreciate Mr. Bennet showing some keen smarts here.

“I comfort myself with thinking,” replied Jane, “that he certainly would not marry Lydia if he had not a real regard for her."

Jane gets more and more ridiculous as the book goes on.

“We must endeavour to forget all that has passed on either side,” said Jane: “I hope and trust they will yet be happy. His consenting to marry her is a proof, I will believe, that he is come to a right way of thinking. Their mutual affection will steady them; and I flatter myself they will settle so quietly, and live in so rational a manner, as may in time make their past imprudence forgotten.”

That... oh wow, yeah, what's wrong with your head, Jane?

Mr. Bennet: “Take whatever you like, and get away.”

Is he about to do something unexpected without explaining himself? He's made a habit of that in the past. (No spoilers, shh. I've already had people hinting things at me, which made me keep an eye out.))

Mrs. Bennet: "She will be married at sixteen!"

Ahh, I was wondering what Lydia's exact age was. Thank you! Very helpful.

She felt it so; and though, in looking forward, neither rational happiness nor worldly prosperity could be justly expected for her sister, in looking back to what they had feared, only two hours ago, she felt all the advantages of what they had gained.

I'll say it. There's just too much text left to go in the book for this to be the smooth sailing at this point.

(Chapters 50 and 51)

[matrixaffiliate]

Vignette

Last Chapter! FFN and AO3

This is the end of Vignette. I'll be back on Monday with the sequel to Reconnaissance!

Vignette

Chapter 4 - The Magic of Place

He was excited, but Sirius was also shocked at the nerves he felt. He'd never had nerves about hanging out with Marlene when they'd been teens, but now, well, now Sirius was looking at things differently.

Marlene and Sirius had spent their friendship navigating several near misses. They nearly crossed the line into something more than friends more times than Sirius could count. He told himself it was for the best, especially when she was going to uni in Ireland and him in Germany, but now Sirius was done pretending. They were in the same country, city even, and he wasn't going to lie and say that he was happy being just friends. He was going to show her she was still an amazing photographer, of that he was sure, and then he was going to kiss her and see what happened.

If it blew up in his face, well, he always wanted to go see Sweden.

He parked his bike in front of her flat building and smiled when he saw her walking towards him, her old camera rucksack over her shoulder.

"I like the new seat." She climbed on behind him.

"You mean you didn't love sitting on vinyl held together with tape?"

"It had its charms," She slid her arms around his waist and Sirius felt his heart beat a little harder.

"Sure it did," Sirius laughed, "Like the tape residue sticking to your jeans for the rest of the day."

"I wasn't going to say anything, but yeah." Marlene laughed with him. "So where are we going?"

"You'll see." Sirius winked at her and then revved the engine and moved them back on the road.

He moved slowly through the streets of London until they were finally out of the city and heading the hour or so southwest.

About thirty minutes in he felt her grip tightening around his waist and she pulled herself closer to him, pressing her body to his back. She knew where they were going.

Surrey Hills had been the location of most of their near misses. There was something magical about this place, something that made you feel like you had stepped out of the real world and none of the rules applied anymore. And if there was a place that could get Marlene taking pictures again, Sirius put his money on here.

He pulled off at one of her favorite spots and killed the engine. "Alright Marls, I think it's high time you reminded those cameras and lenses that you're still around."

"Can't we just enjoy being back here?"

"You haven't been back since your mum got sick." He didn't ask, it was written all over her face.

"It was our spot." She shrugged, and Sirius couldn't help but agree; if he hadn't run into her, he never would have wanted to come back here either.

He stepped off his bike and pulled her off with him. "Come on, get that camera out." He pulled on the straps of her rucksack.

"Would you believe me if I said I just want to hike around with you and call it done?" She bit her lip, her signature blood red color freshly applied today. It drove him mad.

"Not for one second." Sirius stepped closer, tucking one of her loose curls behind her ear. "It's just you and me, like old times. Get the camera out Marls, for nostalgia if nothing else."

She stared up at him with her ice blue eyes and Sirius nearly leant in and kissed her right then. But she seemed to take his comment to heart and began sliding the pack off her back and retrieving her camera. He smiled at the stack of lenses, and pulled the pack to him.

"Which lens do you want?"

"Just the standard right now."

Sirius handed the case to her and then started loosening the rucksack straps. "I'm still not letting you carry this." He took the case back as she attached the lens.

"I can carry my equipment." Her answer was automatic, just like it had been when they'd been teens, an answer that was more for the script of the interaction than any real meaning behind the words.

"And I won't let you." He swung the pack over his back, finishing the script.

"I don't even know what I'll take a picture of." She shook her head as they walked, but Sirius didn't miss the way her hands held her camera, rubbing her fingers over the metal, fiddling with the shutter button, almost like she was itching for more than simply holding the camera.

"Take a picture of anything."

"What if it isn't good?"

"You used to say that before too, and they always turned out gallery worthy."

"Sirius," she laughed, "that is not true."

"Sure it is," He winked at her. "I wager that you're so skilled at this you can't even try to make me look bad."

She smirked. "Is that a challenge?"

"If it gets you taking pictures then sure," he shrugged. "But don't be surprised when every one of those pictures makes you weak in the knees."

He'd been expecting it. Marlene brought the camera up and took a messy candid of him. She looked down at the screen and groaned though. "How did you manage to look good in that?" She turned the screen around to show him smirking.

"It's a gift, love," he tapped her nose, "But whatever possessed you to do that should possess you more often."

"To do what?" She frowned.

"Take pictures." He turned her to the view of rolling hills and trees with leaves beginning to change color. "Show me what you see."

Her movements were slow but he stood behind her, his hands still on her shoulder, his head ducked so his lips were behind her ear. She hesitated a moment when the viewfinder was nearly to her eye.

"You've got this, Marls."

She let out a slow breath and he heard the click of the shutter button.

"Can I see?" He smiled against the shell of her ear.

Marlene was quiet for several moments as she let her lanyard take the weight of her camera. "Yeah, but it's going to cost you."

Sirius stepped closer to her, bringing his chest against her back, laying his cards further on the table. "That seems fair, name your price, Marls."

She was quiet for several moments, but he felt her breathing grow shallow as he moved his hands to trace her shoulders and arms. Slowly, she leant back against him, relaxing her body into his and Sirius felt his thoughts rapidly slipping.

She let out the same slow breath she had before she'd taken the picture. "It'll cost you a kiss."

Sirius felt his chest explode at her words. He nuzzled behind her ear as he spoke. "The problem is, If I kissed you, I don't think I'd be able to stop."

He felt her breath catch in her chest and she slowly turned around to look at him.

"Then I guess I'd have to never stop showing you the pictures I take."

Sirius didn't hesitate, he was ready to get on to kissing Marlene full time, they'd wasted enough time already.

[thecanishades]

I posted this last year on my birthday. It's been what, three months? And I'm so shocked at how much I've grown and changed since then. My then-boyfriend and I didn't last long. We both wanted different things out of the relationship, and I had finally found the courage to admit that to him. We went our separate ways and since then, I've been able to focus more on myself without the stress of a relationship. I actually managed to meet a guy... I'm able to be authentically my self without being self conscious. We're taking things slow, and I'm not even sure we'll be anything real, but it's still nice to have somebody to care about.

I've taken the time to work on my crafts and to allow myself to make mistakes. I mean, when I was around 14 years old, I didn't think I'd get anywhere in life. A quick TW for those reading, this is gonna get hectic. Tread carefully. Three or four years ago, I was a directionless kid with no self confidence and no self love. I was struggling with depression and suicidal thoughts, and I was too afraid to be near people after being sexually assaulted by my best friend. I was surrounded by homophobia and transphobia, and I was being harassed and bullied on the regular. I thought I would never amount to anything. Hell, I didn't think I'd live to see 16.

But I did. I met people who loved me unconditionally, and I taught myself how to be happy with who I am. Sure, I've lost some of those loved ones over the years, but they've taught me more about who I am and what I'll stand for. I continued to work at my passions, like art and writing and poetry. And now, all those years later, here I am. I'm (sort of) with an incredible guy who likes me for who I am, past and present and future. I've made it to college, and I get to study psychology and enjoy researching the things I'm passionate about. I got to meet some of my childhood heroes- something I'd never even dreamed of being able to do. I'm self employed and working as a freelance writer. I'm two months away from moving to London to be closer to my friends and family. I have all these amazing opportunities that I would never have seen if I'd decided to give up. I'm proud of myself for having fought to be where I am. I'm proud of myself for being hopeful that somehow, someday, I would get better. I am so incredibly thankful for everyone who helped me become happier and healthier: My friends (especially Aya) who reminded me to enjoy all the silly little things in life, like getting banned from Roblox, or trolling each other with shitty memes and Rick Rolls; my parents, for teaching me how to raise myself and become independent, even if that did give me quite a bit of trauma; my sisters, for always being by my side when I was at my lowest; and finally, as silly as it is, I wanna thank the entirety of the Supernatural family for teaching me that it's never okay to give up. It's okay to hurt, and it's okay to fall down- what's important is that you get back up. As my mom would always tell me, "You've just gotta get back on your feet and salt-and-burn whatever demons you're facing- even if they're in your head."

So to everyone who somehow read this long ass post, just know that it will get better. It might not be tomorrow, or next week, or next month, but one day you'll wake up and realise that the sun is shining a little brighter than usual. And you'll smile for the first time in a while. And you will be okay.

To everyone who read this,

Always keep fighting. You will be alright some day. You just have to stick around long enough to see it.

Introduction!

My name is Charlie, and I'm an all round fan of arts and literature, as well as a bunch of 'ologies. I currently have a novel or two on the way in the true crime genre, and a webcomic about a wolf and a sheep who attempt to solve the murder of the wolf's sister. As you can tell, I'm a big fan of true crime and criminal profiling.

I'll mostly be posting snippets of my novel, or even some late night poetry. To talk about myself... I don't have much to say. I'm a bisexual guy, I'm currently in a relationship with my middle school crush (we've been pining for nearly a decade since before we met up again at a Halloween party... I feel like I'm in a romance manga). I love anime, and if I could be any animal, I'd be a grizzly bear.

I can't wait to share my work with you all and to grow my craft <3

[erismerald]

𝑰 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 (Jacob Frye x reader) 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 2

Hello creed, I bring you here the second chapter of my Jacob Frye fanfic, I hope you like it and maybe I would like to remind you that my requests are always open in case someone is interested!

Without further ado, stay safe, and happy reading!

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 1

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Fluff and a bit of teasing ;)

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 3953

𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧 𝟏𝟖𝟔𝟖

Your head hurt a little, and your vision was blurred, you felt moving but you were still, you looked around, the environment you were in was different from the wet and scary street, with a little more effort, you tried to look for details that would help you identify where you were, you were on a train. ... but how? the room you were in was well decorated, you knew that style well, your nanny was doing her best to decorate every part of the house with the rustic and elegant theme of the Victorian era, so none of that had been a dream?

You sat up in bed, feeling your body weakened, you took a deep breath and gained strength to pull yourself together, the clothes you were wearing were different, it was a nightgown, made of cotton, all black with gold details on the sleeves, after all you had really traveled in time. ... but how was that possible, one moment you were with your friends and the next you were alone in the world, flash all the memories of last night had burst into your mind, the dark street, the rain... the man who tried to abuse you, and your savior, who was he? was it him that brought you here? doubts hovered empty in your consciousness, you looked at your wrists small black marks tinged your skin, you felt pain when the palm of your fingers ventured to touch them, without realizing it you let out a 'auch', you couldn't control the fear you felt, you were alone. You wanted your grandmother by your side to calm you down, you grabbed your knees and pulled them up to your chest, and laid your head down lightly letting the tears run down your face, feeling them fall on your hands, you felt small, you felt abandoned.

Suddenly the bedroom door opened revealing a woman, still quite young she must have been in her early twenties, she smiled sweetly at you, no matter how hard you tried to hide under the blanket, that smile warmed your heart and made you smile back.

"I see you're awake at last" She approached with a tray of food that she set down on top of the couch where you were lying "My name is-" she was interrupted by a man, you recognized him, he had been the one to save you, your heart pounded hard when your gaze met.

"Ahhh finally, I'll be able to sleep in my room again" he laughed sitting down in the armchair opposite you, you bowed your head in shame

"Jacob! The girl just woke up, and you're already being a real jerk, I can't believe you're my brother sometimes" The girl said turning her attention back to you " Dear ignore him, he's just a jerk, how do you feel?"

"I... I'm confused just... I feel sick and hot" your voice came out shaky, you were nervous.

"It's because of the fever the doctor said you would feel like this for a few days, but that you would be fine, what's your name?" The girl asked meekly, sitting down in front of you, your gaze shifted a little to the man sitting in front of you, he seemed asleep.

"M-my name is Y/n L/n" again your voice betrayed you, as you said your name the girl looked shocked but interested in you.

"Your family is a great help to our brotherhood, it is an honor to have you here with us!" The girl said with a gentle smile kissing her lips, a feeling of hope embraced your body, would there still be a way back home? But in a flash, you recalled what she had said.

"M-my family? how do you know them?" you asked pulling your body forward-facing the two people sitting in front of you.

"The L/N family has always been a great help in training young assassins" Assassins? What? you didn't want to believe what you heard, all the memories were joining the truth about your family, the story your grandmother told you and you preferred not to believe was really true? It wasn't possible, but why now? why now that you had decided to find out who you were? Why now that you have finally traveled to London? And who were the people in front of you? The girl stood up and stretched her hand towards you "My name is Evie Frye, and that idiot over there is my twin brother Jacob Frye" the words that came out of her lips were like glass tearing your mind, you felt dizzy as if you couldn't breathe right, was all that true? Wasn't it possible? Was it? But how did you end up in their time? Was your grandmother right, weren't they just children's stories?

"How is it possible?" you whispered, both brothers looked at you curiously, " No, it can't be real, I must be dreaming... "Your gaze was fixed on your hands resting on the thin cloth that covered your body, crystal clear tears came out of your eyes, Evie seeing your reaction to finding out who they were hugged your body and pulled you in, you hid your face to her shoulder, letting the sadness leave your heart.

A few minutes passed, but it seemed like hours, your body was still weak from crying, in 18 years of life you had never cried so much, you took a deep breath, hugging Evie's body tightly.

"I know very well who you are" you finally said, Evie knelt down beside the sofa looking puzzled at you.

"How do you know us, love?" Jacob said getting up from the armchair and staring at you, he was much taller than you, and you felt a little embarrassed to feel his gaze fixed on yours, in one small movement you looked away from Evie, you took a deep breath and gathered your courage to expose your whole story.

"My name is Y/n L/n but I am not from here... in fact until a few minutes ago I believed that you two were part of the stories my grandmother used to tell me when I was younger... "I know well who my family is, I just didn't know their true position in this brotherhood, my grandmother used to tell me stories of the Frye twins and the adventures of the assassins to free London from the grasp of the Templars, but I always believed that you were a lie, I am not from here, nor from this time and I honestly don't know how I got here," you said between sobs, raising one of your hands to your face wiping the tears that were falling "I don't even know why I came here, for one second I was in 2020 and the next I traveled back in time to here. .. BUT I DON'T KNOW WHY! I WAS JUST TRYING TO FIND OUT WHO I WAS, WHY DID I HAVE TO VISIT LONDON AND IGNORE ALL THE WARNINGS MY GRANDMOTHER GAVE ME? WHY DID SHE LET ME COME? DID SHE KNOW THIS WAS GOING TO HAPPEN?" Your crying turned into anger, you felt like your body was going to collapse, you felt dizzy, everything was becoming blurry but something broke your fall and held you tight, with the tremendous effort you looked up to see what had happened, the next thing you knew you were in Jacob's arms, he protected you from falling or passing out, you wanted to talk but all you could say was 'ahh' or 'I...'.

"Okay love I know it's a lot to process but you're not alone here, you have us now, we'll take care of you," Jacob said stroking your hair and holding you close to his body, the beating of his heart helped you calm down. "Now what do you mean 2020? We can tell you're not from here but did this happen? Evie?" Jacob called his sister's name they both looked at each other, and after a few seconds, Evie had an idea.

"Let's wait for you to recover so you can tell us everything straight so we can understand what's going on, but..." Evie stopped sighing "Until you can get back home we have to make you unnoticed, we have to make you mix with the people of our time, only then you will be safe, and since your family is a big influence here in London we can visit them and try to ask for help, what do you think?" Evie smiled at you and you smiled back, you felt your eyes grow tired, and without much effort, you fell asleep.

Your eyes opened slowly, it was hard to sleep with the storm of thoughts that rambled through your mind, occupying every neuron, it was still night, you looked at the clock on the desk, it was 4 am, still so early and you were already so awake, you couldn't deny that you felt anxious and nervous with what was happening, Your body moved from side to side on the sofa where you slept, the rain hit the glass loudly, the sound of the wheels on the rails, the wind whistled lulling your body, but you couldn't sleep anymore, the stress, the fear, the frustration of not being home, it was agonizing, you stared at the ceiling, thinking, those memories were still very fresh in your mind, it would take a while to accept.

With a little effort you pushed your body up, sitting down and crossing your legs, the window above your head was splashed with raindrops that slid with speed, the landscape was beautiful, the city lights in the background made your heart beat faster, Even in another epoch London was still London, still a beautiful, attractive city, without you realizing it, a weak smile broke out on your lips, it was ironic that you wanted to visit a place so much and when you did it was as if it vanished through your fingers.

You observed the room and noticed your bag lying on the side of the sofa, with one hand you pulled yourself towards you and took out your drawing notebook, you appreciated the picture sticked on the leather cover, it was your grandfather who had made it, he made a dozen of them just for you, every time the pages of one finished, another one came on the scene, with canvas for more adventures and emotions, since you were very young that writing and drawing were a way to represent your emotions and represent the world you lived in.

With a few gestures you let your hand flow across the white page, drawing and sketching empty emotions but full of comfort, looking on the bright side, when you return you will always have something to show your grandmother, a memory, the sound of the pencil scratching the sheet of paper, soothed your heart so full of bitterness, 'so this is what it's like to discover who I am? Is this what you wanted me to see grandma?' you thought to yourself, is this the destiny that was destined for you?

You sighed and let your hand fall on your thigh, you looked forward, and saw Jacob's coat resting on the back of the armchair in front of you, a wave of warmth and embarrassment invaded your chest, you felt strange every time you thought about him, he was mysterious but gentle and protective, when you felt his body wrap around yours it seemed that they had connected to each other, and all the negative energies and scary thoughts disappeared, your heartbeat as he did, your breath calmed down as you felt his fingers tangle in your hair to comfort you, without a second thought, you began to draw his face on that once white page, you remembered every detail of his face, the two scars, his unshaven beard, his hazel eyes, his lips. ... he was an attractive man, you would never in your life think of meeting him, but now that you know him, he was something you didn't want to forget, you put the notebook against your chest and smiled like a little child, feeling butterflies playing with your belly.

But something interrupted the moment, that moment when you were no longer present on earth, you were lost, hidden in a world of thoughts:

" Rough night?" A voice coming from behind you, scared every inch of your body, you put your hand on your chest letting the notebook fall to the floor, you recognized the owner behind that hoarse and funny voice, Jacob laughed a little "I didn't want to scare you, love, I just came to check if you were okay and since I saw you were awake I decided to come in" Jacob said sitting next to you, his gaze crossed with yours. "How are you feeling?"

"I-im okay, and don't worry you didn't scare me, I was just lost in my thoughts and didn't even see you coming...." you replied shakily, like a leaf in the middle of a storm, his smile was directed at you, you could feel your face getting warm, it was obvious you were nervous, but why?

Jacob sat in the armchair in front of you, he looked tired, but more importantly, he was completely flushed, your gaze was fixed on his body, his hair was dripping, his breathing was racing, your heart was beating unregulated as if you were in a sprint, your breathing became heavy for a few moments.

"Do you like what you see love?" Jacob teased, bending his body forward, you jumped a little when hearing his voice, and quickly looked the other way, the rain was still beating strongly on the window, but the train had stopped, maybe because of the bad weather? "I was just messing with you, I just came from a mission, and well... since you are sleeping in my room and my stuff is here, I came straight to you." He laughed a little, his laugh was wonderful.

Even not looking directly at him you could feel his smile, unbelievably you were feeling calm again, your breathing was quiet, but you felt Jacob's gaze on your body, something captivated him about you, but he still couldn't know what it was, maybe because you were exotic? Because you were new to him, his gaze was fixed on your neck, the necklace that belonged to him was now adorning your neck.

"I wanted to thank you, Mister Frye, thank you for saving me from that... you know, I wanted to thank you earlier but, I've been busy with my mind-" Suddenly you felt his fingers slip up your neck to your jawline turning your face to face his, his curious gaze was focused on the necklace, he smiled.

"How funny I have a necklace just like that hanging around my neck, matching aren't we" Again his laughter filled the room, you couldn't contain yourself, and a small giggle broke out from your lips "Oh you do laugh too, you have a very adorable laugh" Your face flared, a pink color graced your cheeks as you heard his voice, he was so close. ... his scent intoxicated you, as if you were drunk on his scent alone, you felt your eyes getting heavier, but something woke you up, a fallen drop of Jacob's hair fell on your cheek.

"Shouldn't you take off your wet clothes, or at least dry yourself? Mister Frye you might catch a cold" the words escaped from your lips, the concern was explicit on your face, Jacob found it adorable, but he laughed a little, confused you looked at him pouting, you were just trying to help and he still laughed.

"Darling, my clothes are all here and if you haven't noticed, you're here, it would be inappropriate to undress in front of such a delicate lady, besides I'm used to it, after missions I usually go to some pub to celebrate with my rooks but Evie asked me to keep an eye on you, and I didn't want to leave you alone either," Jacob said sitting back in the chair.

You blushed but nodded, he was right, it wouldn't be appropriate, but something wandered in your mind, he didn't want to leave you alone? Jacob's watchful eyes noticed your notebook lying on the floor, he reached out to pick it up, you felt a wave of embarrassment and shame hit you like a stone, no, a bunch of them.

His fingers slid across the pages looking at the drawings, especially the one you had done the day you arrived in London, he looked like a child watching a cartoon on TV, he was mesmerized.

"Ahm Mister Frye, may I ask you something?" you asked as he looked at your notebook, he nodded without saying a word. "What was this mission you went on?" his gaze was still focused on the drawings, but he took a deep breath and answered finally.

"Y/n you know what an Assassin does right?" He asked, you nodded, waiting for his answer to continue "I was assigned to kill templars and free London from the disgusting and profiteering clutches of theme, today I helped rescue some of my rooks who were taken hostage in the middle of one of their rounds when they warned me,

I ran immediately to save them, they are like a family

family, and I as their leader have to help and protect them.

His words were like melodies, he sounded just like the way your vein described, ruthless, brave, gentle and playful, fearless, you smiled, was it possible for a man like that to be true? Was it even possible that your childhood hero was right there in front of you watching your drawings? Was it really true that after many years of hearing about him, you were having a conversation with him? You felt so confident that for a few minutes you forgot that you were stuck in 1800.

"You are really brave Jacob..." Finally, you said, slowly removing the necklace from your neck and holding it between your fingers, circling it from side to side. "You know I spent years adoring you... wanting to be like you and Evie, my grandmother spent years telling me about your adventures, I remember when I was younger and climbing up on the roof, jumping from window to window pretending to be you, pretending to be with you, and well. ... years later here I am in front of you, talking to my idol, and I still don't know how to react to this situation" You laughed a little sarcastically. You were nervous but you knew you could trust him, when you looked ahead again his gaze went through every detail of the drawing you had made of him, he seemed excited.

"I thank you Y/n, for idolizing me when you were younger, it must come as a shock to you, finally meeting me hum?" He said with a tinny smirk on his lips.

"W-well it is but I think you can even exceed my expectations Mister Frye" You laughed nervously, you tried to avoid looking at him, you were afraid you wouldn't know how to react.

"How do you feel about your family belonging to the brotherhood?" He questioned you as he put your notebook down on the desk next to him, you sighed, honestly you didn't even know what to say, or what to think about it, of course, you knew for many years that your family came from a long line of assassins but, you preferred to believe that it was a lie or just another story invented by your grandmother to entertain your creative mind during the most starry nights, you never imagined that they were real, and you still thought that taking someone's life for the sake of a brotherhood or to protect others was wrong, and you didn't want to be associated with that, so you forgot that story, and went on with your life, but now that you knew that they were real, you were a little afraid to confront them.

"I... honestly I don't know how to answer you, when I was younger, I heard the stories told by my grandmother over and over again, but I never thought that they were real, and even when she talked about the brotherhood I... preferred to ignore it, in my view, it isn't right to kill someone, I thought that the assassins were cruel monsters who had no feelings, so I never really wanted to know that part of the story, but I confess that I am afraid to confront them tomorrow..." Jacob seemed to understand what you were feeling his eyes were downcast, you could hear his heavy breathing, you felt a little worried, would you said something wrong, but something surprised you when his gaze met yours you could see a little fear and sadness in his gaze.

"Do you think I'm a monster?" Jacob asked getting up and walking towards you again, you felt your body harden like a stone, your heart was beating uncontrollably, you couldn't think of anything to answer him, he knelt in front of you, still with his gaze fixed on yours, you couldn't even think, he was very close to you, his hand wrapped around yours and took the necklace you were holding between your fingers "Your grandmother gave you this didn't she? and by some fluke of life you came right to me... tell me Y/n even after I saved you, do you think I'm a monster?" His voice was husky, his touch made you sensitive, his smell made you dizzy, you are hypnotized.

"N-no, I don't think you're a monster, I... just didn't know much about.... I... and by some fluke of life you came right to me... tell me Y/n even after I saved you, do you think I'm a monster?" His voice was husky, his touch made you sensitive, his smell made you dizzy, you are hypnotized.

"N-no, I don't think you're a monster, I... just didn't know much about.... I..." Jacob's hand moved closer to your neck his fingers slid across your skin easily, you sighed deeply as you felt his skin in contact with yours, Jacob smiled, it was funny to see your submissive reaction to him, with a small gesture, he placed the necklace around your neck, caressing the back of it, but before he left, his breath-focused on your ear and with a whisper, he made your world crumble.

"Don't take this necklace off, so I'll always know why you're here"

He stood up and grabbed his coat, you were completely paralyzed, you were blushing, your breathing was heavy and panting, your gaze seemed glazed on him, he smiled and walked towards the door, but before disappearing into the darkness his voice echoed once again in the room "you better get some more rest Love tomorrow we have a long day, it was nice talking to you miss L/n". And with that he left you there alone, your heart pounding, panting, and nervous, your only thought was his voice softly caressing your ear.

You let your body fall back, staring at the window, and the rain sliding on it, you didn't realize that the train was moving again, you just let your mind wander, what would have happened if he stayed here?

Feelings and thoughts left you awake for the rest of the night, before you knew it the birds were already singing, the first rays of sunlight illuminated your smiling face.

[ashes-in-a-jar]

The Princess Hold: a Jon, Martin and Also Martin Tale

@dathen​ asked and I'm attempting to deliver XD

Really wanted to do this anyway as a sort of writing exercise. I hope y'all like it!

.

.

The Wind whipped around him angrily as though the air was cross at being forced to move around. The hallways, doors, shifting carpets, tacky plants and all that was that maze of a hotel were folding into themselves, creating a void for the air to rush in. Jon barely managed to find his bearings eventually completely losing his footing as the floor beneath him gave way into nothing. Vaguely he thought he was lucky he was on the bottom floor and immediately realized it didn't matter because now he was midair and falling fast.

He hardly had time to think beyond the bitter notion that while time and space didn't function, gravity seemed to work just fine when impact occurred.

Only it was not what he was expecting.

That is, it wasn't jarring or painful as it should have been. It was soft and gentle and made a muffled 'oomph' noise.

Jon tried to catch his breath as he looked up. His mind immediately calmed at the sight. Martin. His lovely Martin, slightly rattled was looking down at him as his arms were somehow wrapped around him in an almost princess hold.

But not quite.

Because the way he landed, there was no way a mere princess hold could catch him so securely and steadily. And that's when Jon looked up to his other side.

There was Martin. Again. As disheveled and surprised as the first.

"Christ, Jon??"

Jon whipped his head around to the first Martin. Then back to the other one. Then back again.

"Um..."

His mind took a moment to finally let the information seep in as he Knew what he was seeing. Oh. Interesting. It did not make it any less bizarre for him though. While fully comprehending what was going on he suddenly realized his current situation and his face began heating up.

"O-oh Martin. G-good. Um, it’s good to see you... both." He really didn't know which way to look and being held the way he was was not helping.

Martin (and... Also Martin?) must have read the daze and astonishment on his face because despite their evident bewilderment they both chuckled and gently set him down between them in perfect synchronization. They did not step back.

"W-what happened? We just got here, there was a hotel and suddenly..." Martin said, still confused.

"Jon what did you do this time?" The other Martin chided fondly.

"I, um, I killed Helen." They were not backing away and it was very distracting.

"Oh." Said one.

"Why?" Said the other.

Jon couldn't keep up. He just had a whole building implode like a black hole around him and he was still trying to adjust to the sudden change from being immersed in distorted, dizzying patterns to being back in the gray, eye-full, monotone landscape that now surrounded him and his beloved(s). He could hear the rain not too far away.

It was disorientating how nice and warm he suddenly felt. From both his sides. Both Martins had put their arms around his waist and back to steady him and kept their hands there. Two arms more than Jon was used to. It was strange. It was nice. It was... What were they talking about?

"Uhh.. I-It's a long story. Ish. I-I'll explain later." There is no way he could concentrate enough to explain all of the convoluted manipulation games he and Helen played. Not now when there are two very distracting persons standing so near him.

One Martin sighed "And of course you couldn't wait until you were safe outside to make her disappear."

"No. I'm sorry."

"It's okay Jon, we're just glad you're okay." The second Martin was stroking his back in reassuring circular motions.

"Uhh... H-how was your domain?" This is getting ridiculous. He needed a way to differentiate between the two Martin's in his mind otherwise he will just become more confused. He settled on a simple Right-Martin and Left-Martin where they were positioned around him accordingly.

"Uh, as you can probably tell, it was a... An enlightening journey of self discovery." Right-Martin said, eyeing Left-Martin reflectively. "I... didn't realize I’m quite so… argumentative."

Despite himself Jon snorted while Left-Martin rolled his eyes "Well..."

Right-Martin tightened his grip on Jon's back "Oh, be quiet you."

"I was going to say it goes both ways." Left-Martin smirked. "We had some important things to discuss so the split just... happened. Sort of underwhelming compared to what we're assuming you just went through, to be honest."

"Yeah." Right-Martin agreed.

"Hmm" Jon hummed, letting himself lean into Right-Martin's arms. He was quite groggy and being surrounded like this did not help him regain his attentiveness. Left-Martin stepped forward to sandwich Jon even further and buried his face in Jon's tousled hair. Right-Martin sighed and brought his arms down to tighten around Jon's lower back. Jon's breath stuttered slightly.

"So... Helen's gone then." Right-Martin said quietly.

"Yes." Jon breathed.

"Time to mourn?" Left-Martin asked. He lowered one hand to catch Jon's. It was a bit awkward in this position but his hand felt warm and secure so Jon wasn't complaining.

"You can if you want..." He looked up from Right-Martin's chest to his face. "Do you? want to mourn?"

"A bit? I mean, she was our friend, sort of."

"No she wasn't and you know it" Left-Martin quipped, squeezing Jon's hand. "She was just pretending to be our friend. Probably thought she had something to gain from it. You know how the Distortion is."

"Yeah, I guess. But she was one of the only other people we met on our journey that we could actually talk to. That must count for something, hm?"

"Maybe. But Jon killed her and probably had a good reason to, no?"

"Yeah, you're probably right, as usual." Right-Martin conceded begrudgingly.

"Well, when I'm right you're right. I'm you." Left-Martin stated and then unprompted leaned forward and planted a kiss on the Archivist’s left cheek.

Jon, who was half listening to the back and forth banter while blissfully basking in all that was his wonderful boyfriend Martin, started. "Wha-"

"Hey!" Right-Martin exclaimed.

Left-Martin rolled his eyes again. "Come on, you know you want to. Look how lovely and adorable he is." He pecked Jon's cheek again. Jon’s face was at this point so warm he felt like a Desolation domain in the making.

"Fine, yeah I do." Right-Martin tentatively looked at Jon who stared back wide eyed and gently leaned to plant an identical kiss on his right cheek.

Jon was almost gone at this point. This was more overwhelming than the confusion the Distortion tried to enforce on him. He hugged Right-Martin back with one arm and squeezed Left-Martin hand where it held his. They stayed that way for another moment before Jon gently extracted himself from between them, attempting to regain some semblance of control. He coughed and moved to straighten his hopelessly disheveled clothes and hair.

He could feel Martin slowly returning to himself, the effect of his domain wearing off as Left-Martin began fading while drifting closer to Right-Martin with a wispy, floating quality about him.

Jon was a bit disappointed at that. But maybe it was for the best. He's not sure he'd be able to handle having two of his boyfriend, even in the long run. Especially in the long run.

"M-Martin. Um... That was... Interesting. Th-thank you for the kisses."

Left-Martin let out one final snort before he faded into Right-Martin and became just. Martin.

They looked at each other a moment longer, drinking in one another's sight with endless affection. Jon broke the silence.

"If you need a moment to adjust, to... to mourn, take your time. But not too long."

Martin sighed in mixed relief and melancholy as he felt the effects of the merge. He smiled at Jon gently and asked "Why the sudden rush?"

"See that over there?" Jon pointed to the grey horizon, dark shapes sticking out like strange twisted fingers. "That's London"

"Oh." Martin said in a hushed tone. He laced his fingers with Jon's as they stood there, taking in the view.

"This is it then. The final leg of the journey."

"Yes." Jon said. "Let's find out if my efforts to clear our path were actually worthwhile."

"Hmm?" Martin hummed, confused.

"I'll explain on the way. Come on let's go."

He smiled fondly, oh so fondly at Martin, squeezing his hand.

Martin smiled back, lifted the hand to kiss it and stepped forward.

Jon followed suit and hand in hand they walked away from their meeting point, towards the unknown fate ahead.

[babylooneytoonz]

Power Struggle

Tommy Shelby x Fem! Reader

Requested by : @peakyfooky

So unfortunately I clicked on the delete button instead of the edit button and my work just went down the drain. I feel so pissed rn. I'm so sorry, @peakyfooky. Here's the request. Again.

Summary - Being an assassin was all fun and a right handed game until Tommy Shelby fucked up in an important mission and almost got you killed. The only good thing to come out of it was a hinted confession and a heated moment of passion.

Warnings: Cursing, Explicit language, SMUT SMUT SMUT, Sex . Reader's a badass in this one.

The rumours were many. Some said that she was a mythical creature, a story cooked up by mothers to get their children to sleep at nights, while some felt that she was a woman long dead. They said that she walked through the streets of London at nights, shielded by the darkness, hidden from the human eye. They even said that she had a scarred face, and a story to tell, probably why she didn't show herself during daytime. She was looking for the man that had done this to her, scarred her face and once she found him, she would be gone.

The rumours appalled you but at the same time, they made you feel powerful. You were nothing they had described you as. You were beautiful, your face that of an angel, if one would look at it, they wouldn't suspect a thing.

You were not some creature from the storybooks, neither were you someone alien to this country. You considered yourself a businesswoman, and your business was killing people. Killing your targets. Being an assassin, a female assassin, and being a pretty good one, you were the topic of talks among people and a pretty frequent household name for the gangs, having been frequenting them, and doing their petty calling for years now. And they made sure your identity was kept hidden and you were paid handsomely.

And this is how you knew Thomas Shelby, the leader of the Peaky Blinders. You wouldn't lie to yourself, his summons were the ones that intrigued you the most. They were uncanny, came for you on those you had least expected them.

After a long night at the pub next door, you stumbled into your first floor shabby apartment, a good disguise for a woman like you who earned a lot for every target eliminated. Your keys rattled into the keyhole and the door flung open, the familiar scent of your perfume, mixed with whiskey and cigarette smoke filling up your nostrils as you stepped inside and flung your heels off.

That's when you saw it. A card with a gold plated border stood on your bedside table, waiting for you to read it. You often wondered how Tommy managed to do it, sneak into your apartment to get you these notes but you didn't ask. It was Thomas Fuckin' Shelby and he had ways that you had probably never imagined of. To anyone who would see these notes, they would mistake these from a despaired lover, wanting to meet you again.

You flicked it roughly into your palm, turning it around as you read through it.

Meet me by the distillery when the moon's directly above us.

- T.S

He talked in riddles, riddles that no normal person would bother trying to solve but you knew his riddles by the back of your hand. Your eyes flew to the grandfather clock and you rushed out to your window, trying to look at the black starless sky, overcome with black humungous clouds with no moon in sight.You waited for a few minutes, waiting for the moon to show itself and when it finally showed you a peek, you knew Thomas would have seen it too. You grabbed your purse, flinging it across your shoulder and walked out of your apartment, making your way towards the distillery by the end of the street.

By the time you set foot there, you craned your neck upwards, trying to look at the moon that was now shining down on you and you knew it would be minutes before Thomas Shelby showed himself. Years for working for this man, he still hadn't learnt a thing about punctuality. Just then, a twig snapped behind you, causing you to slowly turn towards the approaching figure with a smug look on your face, "I am a busy woman, Shelby. I cannot always be here at your whims and fancies."

Under the pale moonlight, you saw his lips twitch, his hand mechanically moving up to his lips, his cigarette plucked between his lips as he inhaled the smoke that coiled around him.

"I hope you have something good for me. Something better than the man you gave me the last time. That took fucking two minutes. This better be worth my time."

Tommy took a step closer, the cigarette butt dropping from his hand as he stepped on it. Now you could see him clearly, his handsome features and his chiseled jaw struck out.

"Luca Changretta."

Two words were spoken and the smirk on your face went up your ears.

"I hope the pay's good."

"I'll triple it once you get me the news he's fuckin' gone." Tommy's ice like voice reached your ears and you just smacked your lips together, crossing your arms over your chest.

"So, when are we fuckin' doing this?"

-

Pretending to be a whore was easy. All you had to do was wear a skimpy dress, show a little cleavage, put on red lipstick and there you go, you were ready. Once you were ready, you looked at yourself in the mirror. The woman that looked back at you was someone you hardly recognised, but maybe that was what you always wanted.

Taking a deep breath, you finally pushed yourself out of the shabby bathroom at the back of the pub, your heels clicking against the pavement as you strutted towards the noisy entrance. You could hear loud chatters and occasional bangs, banging of fists, and even breaking of glasses and you rolled your eyes, cringing at the state of disorientation most of these men were in.

You placed your hand on the door, pushing it open as you stepped in, smacking your lips together. Your eyes scanned through the men, some of them now looking at you with hunger in their eyes. "Who the hell ordered a whore, ay?! Send her over once you are done mate!" You heard someone yell.

If you had to do this without testing your patience any further, you needed a drink. You went up straight to the bar, slamming your fist angrily against it to get the bartender's attention. His head snapped towards you, his mouth slightly falling, his eyes involuntarily moving and resting on your chest for a bit.

"Whiskey." You said, dryly. "And stop fuckin' staring at my chest."

The bartender cleared his throat, a red tint taking over his cheeks, flustered at being accused so pointedly. You saw him nod and rush into the backroom. You took this moment to look around, trying to spot the man you were looking for. This is where Thomas Shelby had told you he would be.

The bartender emerged with your drink in his hand, placing it on the counter in front of you. Your fingers curled around it, your hand flying to your lips, your ruby tainted lips pressing against the glass as the liquid gushed through your throat. Without wasting any more time, placing the glass back down, you leaned forward, watching the bartender in front of you struggle to keep his wandering eyes from taking a sneak peak at your cleavage. You placed your elbows on the counter to support you, looking at him.

"Where's Luca Changretta?"

The bartender looked at you, his eyebrow shooting up.

"Oh, you are Mr. Changretta's, ah, guest. The first door on the left." You nodded coyly, your fingers curling around the glass, your eyes fixed at the bartender as you watched him uncomfortably move away, scrubbing the counter on the other side. You brought up the glass and downed the entire contents of it, almost slamming the glass back down.

Following the bartender's instructions, you found your way to the first door on the left. It was a mahogany door, shut, but you could hear muffled shouting coming from the inside. Not bothering to knock, you flung the door open, barging your way in, your heels clicking against the floor.

Luca was sitting on a couch, his legs propped up against the coffee table, his drink in his hand as he was probably in the middle of an argument with one of his henchmen.

"Do you really not know how to knock?" Luca didn't move, only his lips did, as he eyed you his gaze, dwindling from distaste to full of lust.

"Not really, Mr. Changretta. You see, I just did my nails. Trust me, these things do take a lot of my time, that and making sure men don't leave disappointed." Your smirk reached your eye as your hand fumbled against your box of cigarettes, pulling a stick out of it and flinging it to your lips.

You heard Luca mutter a get the fuck out under his breath and the henchman rushed off, leaving you alone with the man. He slowly stood up, taking a sip of his drink, twirling his whiskey glass in his hand as he made his way up to you, looking at you from head to toe. "I didn't ask for a whore, now did I? Not that I remember. Who sent you?"

"No one asks for me, Mr. Changretta, I just flow with the wind. I just know who might have a need for me without actually him coming to me first. I see power, immense power and that's where I go. No one sends me." You took a step closer, lifting your palm and placing it on Luca's arm, using your pointed nail to move your index finger downwards, causing him to grit his teeth as your nail tore through his suit, almost scraping through his flesh. "Sorry about the suit. Where did you get these made?"

"Fenacci, Italian. He's my uncle."

"Well he must be a talented man." You cooed.

A sadistic snicker escaped his lips, causing you to give him a fake smile, although you knew how disgruntled you felt. The things money made people do.

"Now Mr. Changretta– "

"Call me Luca." He cut you off, his hand finally fixing on your hip, his fingers stroking your flesh over your satin dress.

"Luca, what would you like me to do to please you?" You pushed yourself away from him, watching his face flash a look of annoyance, his fingers twitching when it lost contact with you. Slowly, you took off your dress, only to reveal the soft, almost sheer negligee that you were wearing underneath it, exposing your legs and every bit of your skin. You saw him give you a quick do over his eyes flashing with his desire for you and this caused your lips to involuntarily curl into a smirk. You took a step towards him, placing your palm on his chest and using force to push him back against the couch, taking him by surprise.

"You are a man of substance, Mr. Changretta. I love it."

You placed yourself slowly over his lap, letting him wrap his arm around your waist, a low, throaty growl almost leaving his lips. As you moved on to straddle him, his fingers moved all over your arms, trying to feel the softness of your skin.

Taking that second of distraction in your stride, your hand flew up to the pin that held your hair, the pin of poison as you called it, and you pulled it out, your hair now falling loosely over your almost bare shoulders. Clutching the pin in your hand, you were ready to push the pin into the side of his neck, ready to end it once and for all but before you could do that, he grabbed you by your shoulder, pushing you away with such force, you fell back, crashing against the coffee table and fell to the floor.

"I least expected Mr. Shelby to be sending in assassins dressed as whores. Turns out Miss Gray was right. He did send you to kill me."

Your rage filled eyes met his, your finger still clutching the pin, while his fingers slid into his suit pocket and he pulled out his gun, ready to aim it at you. You gave him a smile, not dropping his gaze for a second. There was no way you would let him have you fail. You had never failed before. Fucking Polly Gray. You didn't understand how Luca Changretta already knew what Thomas Shelby's plan was.

You would have pondered more, had your eyes not noted how his finger moved to the trigger, ready to squeeze it. The moment passed by in a blur of a second, you adeptly caught his wrist at the right time, causing his aim to falter but the bullet shot of the barrel before the gun fell off his hand, slicing into your arm and lodging inside. You hissed in pain, your arm slowly turning red as droplets of your blood rolled down and fell to the floor, drop by drop. "Fucking hell," You cursed, your palm flying to the hole in your arm, feeling the warm gush of your blood, your wound throbbing under your touch while at the same time, you used your foot to kick the gun that had fallen out of Changretta's hand under the cabinet.

"Who the fuck are you, woman? You're no whore, that I'm sure of. I wonder how much that bastard paid you to do his dirty work. I'm ready to pay you triple– " He grabbed you by your hair and pulled you up to your feet which was a pretty bad move at his end. This was where you shot out your foot towards him suddenly, causing him to stumble and fall backwards. You let out a loud shriek, pulling yourself on top of him, straddling his waist, your palms coming to rest on his throat as you started squeezing it.

"I'm your death, motherfucker."

Luca Changretta started coughing, his eyes bobbing out as he tried to get your hands off his throat, but you just kept squeezing harder, pushing down at him with all the weight in your body. You were smiling now, watching life drain out of this man so easily, the throbbing in your wounded arm completely forgotten. You had gotten so used to seeing their faces when you killed them, it really didn't matter when they came back to haunt you at nights.

Suddenly, you felt a sharp prick at the side of your neck, the sudden impact of which caused you to loosen your grip on Changretta. Clutching your neck, you fell to your side, your eyes falling on your poisoned pin that was in Changretta's hand. Your chest heaving up and down, your heart raced so bad, you felt it was going to stop. Pain spread through your body, slowly, like a snake coiling at your insides as you started coughing out foam, your vision blurring.

"You can never be the death of me, bitch."

The last thing you saw before you shut your eyes was the door flinging open and the blue eyed gang leader rushed in, with a few men on his tail. You heard the sound of gunshots and screams but it all went black.

-

Your head hurt and so did every crevice in your body, as though someone had run a truck over you. It felt like you had been asleep for ages. The room smelled like a hospital room. After what felt like eternity, your eyes fluttered open. Even moving your eyes around took most of your energy. The room was warm and so were the covers that covered your body. Slowly, you started regaining shards of memory of what had happened that day. You had failed, for the first time ever. But worse than that, you wanted to bash Thomas Shelby's skull, for betraying you, for telling Polly Gray. He was responsible for your failure.

You winced as you sat up, your eyes flying to your bandaged arm. If the humiliation of failing that one thing you were good at wasn't enough, you had been shot and fucking poisoned.

You slid against the edge of the bed, your feet finding the floor as you hoisted yourself up, your legs almost wobbling at your first attempt. Five minutes later, you were walking down the hallway of what you guessed was the Arrowe House screaming like a mad woman, “Thomas! THOMAS SHELBY! FOR FUCK'S SAKE–"

Just then, the door to your right opened, and someone grabbed your wrist, pulling you inside and the door slammed shut behind you.

"My son's fuckin' asleep in the next room. Can you stop shouting at the top of your lungs? And who the fuck asked you to strut around the house when you are in no condition to get out of bed?"

You looked at the man in front of you and you wanted to gage his eyeballs out. Suppressing the urge to scream at him, you just pushed him away and weakly made your way up to his desk, grabbing his box of cigarettes.

"How the fuck am I even alive? Thanks to you, Changretta had stabbed me with my own poison needle. How the fuck did Polly even find out about the whole plan?" You struggled to light a match, a cigarette now pressed to your lips. Thomas snatched the matchbox from your hand, lighting a match for you and bringing it close to your face.

"Will you just sit down first." He motioned for you to take a seat. Wordlessly, you lowered yourself on it, your eyes trained on him, waiting for him to speak.

"I might have mistakenly said some things to her. I know, I'm sorry –"

You were not having it. You stood up, your fists clenched by your sides as you stormed towards him, almost pushing him angrily.

"You almost got me killed Tommy. You knew my fucking rules. No one except us should have known." He grabbed you by your arm in an effort to catch you if you fell but you just pushed his hands away.

"For fucks sake, will you stop with the dramatics, it was a drunken mistake. Polly came to me and she confessed to having told Changretta about you. That's when I gathered the boys and –"

You shook your head in disgust and cut him off, as your hand mechanically flew up to your lips and you took a drag of your cigarette, spitting out your words, "You wanted to be a fuckin' hero, did you not? You broke our deal, Tom. And then you save my life like this."

You didn't realise how the word Tom had so effortlessly slipped out of your mouth until you felt his lips suddenly press against yours, your eyes widening in shock at the suddenness of it, an electrifying feeling filling you up.

"What the fuck?" You whispered, licking your lips inadvertently when he pulled back.

"You don't fucking shut up, do you?"

"How dare you –" You didn't complete your sentence. Instead, you pushed Tommy to the wall, your hands tugging at his waistcoat to take it off as your lips hungrily devoured his plump ones. When you finally broke the kiss, you didn't look at Tommy like you did before. There was something different about him, something that made you want to explore. Your fingers tore through the buttons of his shirt, until he was standing bare chested in front of you, his lips slightly parted, his chest heaving up and down, his hand resting on your waist as he looked down at you, his eyes thick with desire.

"What was that for?"

"For almost getting me killed and then saving my life." You muttered, sarcastically and he just scoffed.

"I couldn't have left you to die." He deadpanned.

"Oh, and why's that?"

You bit your lip, slowly looking up at him when it hit you. "Don't answer that. Please don't. I can't take it right now."

"You're so –"

"Get your fuckin' pants off."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

It was as though your mind had exploded. All you saw was fire around you, the fire that could only be vanquished by him. Impatiently, you strode up to him, unbuttoning his pants while he just kept staring at you, his mouth almost open. You slid your palm through the waistband of his pants, stroking over his already hardened manhood, watching him as his eyes clenched shut and a low moan escaped those lips.

What you felt right now could only be expressed as sheer torment. You were emotionally drained and physically broken, and the only thing that could calm you down or make it even worse was what you were about to do. And you weren't going to waste any fucking time.

Thomas Shelby didn't realise what hit him. The next minute, he was sprawled over his desk, his pants lowered at his ankles, with you now straddling his waist, your eyes looking down at him. You wouldn't deny, he really looked beautiful under you. And you were sure, he was liking you on top of him.

It was a Power Struggle. But you always won. Atleast with Thomas Shelby.

"You are infuriating." You hissed, as you started rolling your hips against his erect cock, only the fabric of your underwear barring you from taking him in. The aching pain in your core was frustrating, getting even worse with each stroke of your core against the mountain pressed up against it.

"And you're a fucking tease," He moaned under you, licking his lips as he tried to adjust his hips to feel your warmth better.

"Stop. Don't fucking move until I say you do. We do this my way." You slapped his chest lightly, only to get a frustrated growl from him. A part of you wanted to tease Thomas Shelby to the point he was squirming, but the other part of you wanted to satiate the burning inside of you.

"I'm so fucking angry at you, Shelby, but good thing I know how to calm myself down in the most unholy ways." You lifted yourself up, Tommy's adept fingers worked to get your panties off you and once you had gotten yourself free from it, you took a deep breath, looking down at him before you went down on him. Using your hand to guide his cock, you slowly mounted yourself into him, feeling his thickness fill you up, a symphony of curses and grunts escaping both your lips as he filled you up.

Once you had adjusted to him, your slickness made it easier for you to build a firm pace, your hands using his chest to hold yourself on top of him, his hands holding you from your waist for support. Your body trembled and your mouth spilt vulgar curses as you slowly built up your pace, bouncing up and down his length, the study filling up with the sounds of your wetness of your core and flapping of your skin against his. His hands left your waist, moving up until he was squeezing your breasts, his fingers toying with your nipples, enhancing the pleasure you were feeling.

"Is that all you got?" Tommy moaned and this caused you to throw your head back and let out a dry laugh, only to end in a moan again as you felt pleasure built inside you, ready to burst any time now. By the looks of it, you could see that Tommy was close too, but he wouldn't give you the pleasure of knowing how good you were at this.

"Keep up with me." You swatted him again, deliberately slowing your pace, knowing how close you both were to your climaxes. He only slapped your arse in retaliation, budging you to keep up the pace.

"(Y/N)" Tommy grunted your name in pleasure, his fingernails digging into your hips.

"Say it again, love."

"Fuck." Tommy cursed, his breathing hitching as you continued bouncing on his swollen cock. Your hands found your way to his neck, your palms wrapping around as you started choking him, not hard enough for him to not breathe but hard enough for him to look up at you, his eyes burning with pleasure.

"Say it again, darling."

"(Y/N), fuck." He groaned. As if this was the push that was needed, you let out a whimper mixed with a moan, as you rode him to his own climax as well as your own, his nails digging into your flesh, panting into his sturdy chest.

You rolled off him and collapsed on the desk next to him, staring at the ceiling of his study, your chest heaving up and down, the smell of sex and cigarettes now filling up your nostrils.

"Please don't fuck up the next time, Shelby."

You felt his lips press against the skin on your bare shoulder in a kiss, followed by a hum as he pushed himself up from the desk, "That fuckin' poison pin. I had thought I lost you. You were lucky the doctor drained out the poison. If being an assassin is what you want to do, then we do this my way, not yours." He reached out, pulling up his pants and grabbed a spare tee shirt from one of the drawers of his study, pulling it over his head, looking at you once before he stormed out of his study.

(GIF is not mine, found it on Google. Let me know if it's yours and I will credit you.)

[lukemichaelcalumashton]

Opening Lines Game

thank you @squishmichael and @allsassnoclass for tagging me <3

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories. (If you have less than 20, just list them all!) See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Tag some people to play the next round!

it just so happens that i have exactly 20 fics posted so!!! this is kinda perfect. however i struggle so much with writing first lines for fics soooo i’m not sure how great this is gonna be svjfsdjsds

1. i wanna hold your hand while we're growing up

“Alright children, pick a buddy!” As soon as Miss Maya stops talking, the group of eight-year-olds gathered around her begin to scatter, each looking for their field trip buddy.

2. passport control

Two minutes. Michael has been at the airport for two minutes and already, his entire band has texted him.

3. mating call

Luke likes to think that, after ten years, he and the boys know each other pretty well. 

4. fueling the fire until we combust

Ashton is a planner. In fact, he is a great planner.

5. if i could say the things i want to say (i’d find a way to make you stay)

The first time it happens, Michael doesn’t think much of it. It being Calum dragging him to a local bar on a Friday night.

6. you'll find me on my tallest tiptoes

Ashton finds Calum in the dressing room.

7. stay stay stay (i've been loving you for quite some time)

Ashton has been awake for some time.

8. your arms around me feel like home (i’m homesick)

As someone who has three boyfriends, Calum rarely comes home to an empty apartment.

9. the very first page, not where the storyline ends

“Goodnight, Ashton! I’ll see you tomorrow!” Ashton looks up to see Sierra making her way to the front of the bookshop after clocking out for the night.

10. (ferris) wheel of fate

Michael regrets letting Luke drag him to this stupid fair. 

11. wherever i am, i'll come running

Ashton’s phone wakes him up, the ringing too loud and too close to his ear, making it impossible for him to ignore it and go back to sleep.

12. this could have been an email

Luke is in the break room, throwing sweet corn kernels at Ashton, trying to get them to stick to his hair without him noticing, when he hears the rumor.

13. let me feel you burn into me

“What are you working on?” 

14. Just a touch (too much)

Calum climbs off of Ashton, falling back against the bed to try and catch his breath.

15. home in your arms

It starts innocently enough. Only a few days after they leave Australia and move to London, Calum wakes up abruptly from a nightmare.

16. 20/20

Ashton is mindlessly scrolling through his Instagram, waiting for the popcorn to be ready, when he hears Calum speak up from the living room. “Oh, look who finally decided to show up!”

17. you distract me (but I'm distracted without you)

“Do you still even own an apartment?” Ashton asks the moment he opens his door to find Calum standing there, waiting to be let in. “’Cause I thought you did, but somehow you’re always here.”

18. Work Up A Sweat

Calum wakes up to find his bed empty of his boyfriend.

19. Bake It Till You Make It

Ashton jumps when someone knocks on his door, sending flour flying everywhere.

20. You Pool Me In

When Ashton called the pool cleaning company, he assumed they would send some boring middle aged man to do the job. Someone who would wear a dirty tank top, clean his pool, then leave. 

okay pattern is that. 11/20 mention ashton in the first line so svfdfsfs clearly i talk about ashton a lot. most of them aren't dialogue which is a bummer because i love when fics start with dialogue and i try to do it but i usually don't come up with something i like. ummm most of them start with a name and they're short-ish???

now favorite opening line? i think 5 from if i could say the things i want to say (i'd find a way to make you stay) it's nothing too special but i like it! and for some reason i also like 12? from this could have been an email because it's a little ominous like, what rumor did luke hear y'know? also i love how i managed to mention ash in the first line when he's not even part of the main ship of this fic svfjskjs

okay this was fun now i'm gonna tag some people to do this (who were probably tagged by someone else already! oops) @lifewasradical @daydadahlias @ashtcnirwin

[xtrash-writing-trashx420]

Cheeky Minx || John Shelby x OC

//Welcoming the New Recruit//

"Makenna Aoife MacTavish, A.K.A. Makenna Muldoon; Duchess of Glenbrook, Aged 23

Served at the Somme as a field nurse and,"

The man before me takes a pause and looks up at me in faux surprise, as if the information on the paper he's gawking at isn't exactly why he's come seeking me out, and then continues in an almost condescending manner;

"Hm... and soforth was awarded title as Duchess and Sole Proprietor of Glenbrook Estates and Enterprises in Boston for her acts of valor.," He pauses again to throw down the file he was reading and light himself a cigarette.

I take in every detail, knowing that this meeting can end up only one of two ways, and assess the scenario. Tilting my head slightly and leaning back into the armchair in front of his desk, I cross my legs; his eyes glance from his ministrations with the box of matches he's holding and zip down to my left thigh where one strip of honeyed milk lies perfectly exposed between my black leather garter holster and my thigh-high nylon stockings.

I see the slight glint of mirth cross his steel blue eyes as he catches my not-so-subtle warning and continues to light his cigarette. I watch as he pulls his drag, the way his fingers just barely drape the stick of tobacco between them without effort, the way his eyes study mine, the way his free hand keeps switching between his knee and the top of the desk.

'A gangster like this doesn't get nervous over one woman with a snubnose purse pistol... Who is he waiting for?'

"I'll take one, while your at it." He smirks at this, and goes to hand me the one he's smoking. It's my turn to smirk, as I nod to his pack.

"A new one, if you don't mind." He raises his eyebrow, but nevertheless, complies. As I lean forward to take the cigarette, he lights another match and lights it for me, leaning over his desk so I don't have to.

'A gentlemanly gangster, not too hard on the eyes either.,' I admit to myself, studying his sharp features and piercing eyes.

Finally, after what seems like ages of simply sitting across and analyzing eachother, he continues.

"You're titled Duchess of Glenbrook but the common people call you Miss Kenna. You have 15 bars, 2 breeders farms, a horse track and 27 plots of real estate, and that's just in London alone. Glenbrook Estates is what, a mansion? And it says here you have 3 vacation homes as well." He scoffs and throws the file down on his desk.

"Well, let's get on with it, Mr. Shelby, as you well know, I'm a busy woman.," My voice is far too suave for my liking, but the situation calls for a little theater. "I would assume you called me here for a reason, this is hardly the place for a business meeting with someone of my status."

I sound like a proper posh cunt, and it seems as if he's taking the bait as he groans out a sigh and leans back into his chair. He lifts a hand to rub his temples, and then slams his fist on his desk in a motion so fast and loud, I was almost startled.

Almost.

He seems unfazed my lack of reaction, and continues on.

"Let's not pretend like you don't know what I want. You have influence all over, spies everywhere, and a very high standing. Everyone knows who you are. Nothing happens without you knowing about it.-"

"-As if I don't already know that-" I snappily interject.

"And I want your men, and your cooperation when we take over London. You're the most untouchable woman in all of North America. If you tell someone not to fuck with us, they won't. And those that do, you have ways of making it so they never existed."

I frown, sinking into the armchair infront of his desk once more and taking a long drag of my smoke.

"I see."

For the next few minutes we simply stare at eachother while we finish off our smokes, picking, analyzing, contemplating. Finally, after he offers me the crystal ashtray to put out, I appraise him and ask one simple question.

"What do you want from me?"

~~~~~~~

It's been 2 months since my meeting with Thomas Shelby at his gambling den, and 6 days since our last correspondence.

"Pack what you can in a suitcase and my men will come to collect you on Thursday. You're not safe."

No explanation, no reasoning, just that little tidbit over the phone while gunshots rang true and the sounds of men fighting grumbled in the background before he abruptly hung up. And since Thursday had come and gone the day after the call, I had resorted to relieving all of my staff save for my most trusted.

The only ones left on premises were my gate guards, my doormen, and my butler amd personal guard Carleton, who had only worked for me for 2 years but I was rather well aquanted with. We had hit it off rather well, and I considered him more friend than staff. He was a tall, broad shouldered Jewish man with a scruffy, large beard and bright eyes that reminded me of a child's, with a contradictory scowl that would make a grizzly piss himself.

Initially after receiving the warning, I had brushed it off without care. Being hunted was nothing new to me after all, being a woman who had served in the war and in other more internal battles of politics. But this was different.

I remember after the call I had snorted in laughter, summing it up as a joke and continuing on with my day. I had been untouchable, faceless and anonymous since the war. Only the most internal government files and most skilled intelligence organizations even knew what I looked like, let alone my real name. That was what had led me to agree to take up business with Thomas in the first place. But 2 months into business with the bloke and I show up to my race track to find every single one of my employees and horses shot and beat to hell.

Since then, I had taken to locking myself in my art studio with my easels and paints to distract myself; though it did little to nothing to soothe my racing mind. For the millionth time in just that day, I wondered why I wasn't safe, I wondered if Thomas and his Blinders had been picked off by their enemies, I wondered if my name had been let slip by one of his lackies in a braw deal that ended badly. I couldn't understand how I had gone from being untouchable, to going into hiding.

The only constant in each equation was none other than Thomas Shelby, and I made a mental note to tear him a new asshole when I got the chance.

I gave a start, knocked from my thoughts as Carleton entered with my afternoon tea, and my paintbrush skewed off stroke.

"Oh, fuck." I swore crassly, looking around my desk to find the paint I had used on the background to cover my mistake; not noticing my butler's sarcastic and smug grin over my classless use of vulgarity.

"Your tea, and lunch, Miss Muldoon." He presented my tray with grandiose show of putting it on my desk and lifting the cover to reveal my tea and what looked to be ladyfingers and some sort of meat sandwich. I didn't care, I was starving and anxious, so I sat and ate, thankful for the distraction.

"Don't be so smug, Carleton, I'm going mad up here." I complained as I ate, gesturing around me. "That smug bastard Shelby is going to pay for this. I've lived so comfortably until now."

"Speaking of, madam, you received a telegram."

"Oh bother, burn it."

"It seems important, ma'am. It mentions the race track."

At this I lean back to look over at him, he's moved clear halfway across the room to speak, and he's shifting his weight and wringing his hands. I sigh, and wave him on. He reads it out slowly, and I "tsk" in disappointment.

"You haven't been practicing," I chastise him, pulling a "give it here" motion with my fingers and taking the telegraph from him as soon as he's close enough. "Have you even read any of the practice books I've given you?"

"...No, ma'am, it's more difficult when you're not helping."

I glance at him with an incredulous look.

"That's no excuse, and you know it." I say, finally taking a moment to look at and read the telegraph in my hands, but it doesn't matter, because as soon as I go to focus, a gunshot resounds from outside the estate by the gates.

With a start, I get up and run to the window, moving the curtains to get a better view. I hear Carleton move the opposite way, closing the doors behind him as he leaves.

I continue to watch out the window, trying to see whats happening, though not to much success. The large fountain in my front garden is centre view from this room and all I can see behind it is a motorcar at my gate and my gatemen pointing their rifles at it. As I walk along the windows to try to catch a better view, I just barely see an arm come out the window of the motorcar with a piece of paper clutched in their outstretched hand before my gatemen move to unlock the gate and let the car through.

That's all I need to see to know.

The Peaky Blinders are outside my house.

(SO this will be a series based off of a slightly Mary-Sue character but it just is part of the story, please don't hate me for it lol. It'll make sense as to why she's this massive standing character later on. She's still a normal ass broad with hormones and issues so its okay lmfao. But anywhoooo, this is basically just a filler character intro to explain why Kenna is around and stuff. John will be in the next chapter, don't worry 😉 also my dumbass didn't proof-read this because its 6:00am and I NEED sleep. )

[raviliuz]

"Here comes the sun" Blaise Zabini x Theodore Nott

Muggle, retro au

@lifesucksandiwanttobeamarauder I finally translate that fanfiction, I hope you like it 🥺

The dark-skinned boy has tried to sit still from three hours already. It is incredibly hard for him, because of his amazing hyperactivity. In all honesty, sitting here as a model doesn't count to his dreams or favourites activities but he couldn't deny to Theodore's asks.

Just because of that — his bloody weakness for the older boy — he must stick up there and pose to Theodore's new painting. Blaise perfectly knows that person on that work of art won't be even similar to him. But it will be beautiful, perfect as everything that has been made by gifted hands of Theodore Nott.

There's music, playing quietly at the background, played on a gramophone, restored by Blaise himself. He gifted it to his friend as a birthday present two years ago on an incredibly warm and short night, 22th of June.

He has so many memories with that slight, passionate boy.

"Theo," he says suddenly, breaking the silence. He sounds like a dissatisfied kitten and when he doesn't notice any reaction, he repeats meowing "Theo, I'm bored."

The other boy finally pays his attention to Blaise, not his reflection on painting, which is created on a canvas (too small in Theo's opinion).

"Blaise, you really can't stand it for a while more?" Theodore asks and there is a nuance of desperation and melancholy in his voice, "I want to end it."

And Blaise has already known, he loses again. He won't be able to deny his friend the pleasure that results from looking at the painting — finished, after hours of working.

"I'll stand it, Theo" he sighs and in his mind adds 'always for you'. At this moment all he can do is begging and praying that Theodore is not able to read minds, just like some characters in their favourites comics.

"Nah, Blaise" slight boy says suddenly and leaves his paint palette and set of brushes on the cupboard, promising himself that he will wash it carefully within a few minutes when paints won't be already dry "I know you don't want to."

"It's not like that" Zabini starts to explaining himself chaotically because he doesn't want hurt Theodore's feelings, "I love watching your painting and you while you're painting. And I love that you have a passion and you're so talented. I just... It's May Day and we are sitting in your room..."

"It's alright, Blaise" Theodore interrupts his with the most beautiful, in Zabini's opinion, smile — that carefree, happy and only a little faraway one.

"We should do something and bring Hope with us to take many photos and place them in our albums with dumb yet cute captions" Theo proposes with a light laugh.

The younger, but taller, better built and more mature, of boys, stands up and brushes off invisible pollen from clothes. He reaches his hand to Theodore to help him stand up.

"Wanna go?" he proposes and even if Theo doesn't know where he agrees without a single question.

It doesn't matter where they go, it will be awesome as always if Blaise is with him.

He catches Hope and puts it on his neck. Theo loves his polaroid camera with whole his heart, even if it isn't the newest and all the better photos were made by Blaise.

Blaise is still holding Theodore's hand in his (definitely larger and rougher), like he doesn't care about rubs of paints in many different colours on Theo's hand and now, also on Blaise's one.

He pulls his friends outside and enters the garage like he is in his own house. Theodore knows what he means without words and grabs his bicycle with a big smile on his slim face.

Meanwhile, Blaise grabs his skateboard, which, only in the form of rebellion against sentiment, he did not give a name. But he perfectly knows that by his skateboard, people could see a different side of his personality, which he doesn't show often — bloody sentimentalist who loves very clichéd books or movies and constantly remembering beautiful moments, and it doesn't matter if that happens a year ago or two hours ago.

The skateboard has its best years far behind its. The picture which was printed on the underside of 'his love' (although, of course, incomparable to that of the boy just standing next to him) has almost completely faded and crumbled, peeling paint seems not so good, to put it mildly, but in Blaise's opinion, it adds the special character and charm to his skateboard. Every scratch and every cooked screw tell a story and Blaise thinks it definitely better than new skateboard — probably glamorous but without its own character.

Blaise isn't similar to Theo, not it that topic. He has never had boxes filled with various craps, which refer to many different events and happenings. He doesn't have special notebooks with tickets, a diary or millions of notes with quick sketches, created under the influence of a sudden flow of wen. He doesn't keep every notes and message on scraps of papers, which have been hand down on lessons, in hope that the teacher wouldn't see that. In first, even having a photo album was strange for Blaise. It shows, that he likes looking back at past and that feeling, which sometimes accompanies you right before falling asleep, when you remind yourself one of those pleasant situations from childhood, isn't foreign for him. It was all he was trying to defend himself against, but only for a time.

For a time when on his way stood that quite frail and nerdy boy. Theodore showed him being sentiment isn't something bad just as singing songs out loud in public places. As compensation, Blaise showed him the magic of comics and all these beautiful, charming in their area, which he discovered while taking a walk daily. Blaise pulled Theodore out of his room and dragged him away from the easel to lead him everywhere he can.

"To our place?" Theodore asks and gets on his a little too small, colourful bike. The seat creaks quietly under his mass but none of the boys pays any attention to this.

"Exactly, now ride, my carriage" Blaise screams and catches up on Theo's seat so the movement of the bicycle can drag him.

"Pff, flax" Nott giggles and Blaise find it as the most sonorous, melodic sound in the whole world.

They ride slowly through all that musty hole, also known as Torquay, or — their home. The road even if it's really old and it remembers when they as children drew chalk on a street, is not in a bad condition. A worse fate befell the road signs — some of them are smeared with sprays, and some are knocked off the ground, due to a car accident or a group of probably drunk but still strong young people.

There are many houses near the road. They are quite poor and definitely not as modern as houses in the capital. At some time, before he started taking daily walks, Blaise dreamed about living in London. Or rather, to be able to tell others that he lives in London. It's another thing which distinguishes him from Theodore — the older boy sees beauty everywhere, in everything and in everybody. Blaise envied him with this skill, for him the world has been boring or just ugly and people have been cruel sometimes.

The sun is warming their backs when they slowly ride on a well-known path. They pass Mrs Shermik, so out of courtesy from four meters away from her, they shout to the old woman joyful 'Good morning'. As they turn into a lane, which is fortunately dry as it hasn't rained much lately, Theo starts humming under his breath.

"Hey Jude, don't make it bad" he looks at his friend (nearly losing control of his bike) and Blaise quickly understands what he means.

Blaise joins to his singing and adds next line:

"Take a sad song and make it better".

Someday Blaise would have worried. He was worried about what people would think, he was afraid someone would hear them. But not now. Now he doesn't care when the words flowing from the depths of memory, and when the song ends, he starts another, definitely his favourite — "Blackbird". Neither of the boys has a perfect voice, singing is definitely not their hidden talent, but that doesn't matter. And that is wonderful, isn't it?

Here Blaise can no longer skate further — the ground is too uneven, even ploughed by the tires of wheelbarrows and carts of people from the neighbouring village. The dark-skinned man rejects Theo's offer to simply get his bike's rack and chooses to run next to the boy. The basketball team and two trainings a week are finally coming in handy — thanks to this, his condition is really good and he doesn't gasp like an old man with asthma after twenty meters run. Theodore, noticing how well his best friend is doing, accelerates, forcing Zabini to run, which he accepts with a groan. Nevertheless, he catches up with the older boy and promises himself that as soon as they get there, he will get his revenge.

After five more minutes, they are a destination of their travel. The place they describe as "their", although they are well aware that they are not the only people who come here, is exactly as they remember it — beautiful.

It was Blaise who discovered them during one of his walks over three years ago. He perfectly remembered how it happened.

That day he was trying to find a rather fast but shallow brook, which he remembered from his childhood. Before Draco's move to London, they told Draco's parents that they were going to the field, but in fact, they went to the brook and walked back and forth on a tree that had fallen over the river. He remembered just as well how Draco's mother, on her way to the store, noticed they were not on the field, prompting a search. When their parents found them by the brook — wet but in unusually good moods, they were already too worried to be upset with them.

After searching for more than an hour (during which he definitely fulfilled the daily, maybe even a week, step norm, but he didn't care) he found a place from his memories, although it was difficult to recognize its. The brook had dried up completely, leaving only a faint riverbed and tree roots washed out of the ground, but the place has definitely retained its charm.

Theo drops the bicycle, leaning it hurriedly against one of the roots, and lays down on the grass, staring at the almost cloudless sky, hidden only by tree branches. Blaise, slightly out of breath, rests his hands on his knees and stays like this for a moment. When his breath normalized he comes closer to Theodore. There is a snap and a Polaroid camera gracefully named Hope spits out a photo in which the image hasn't shown up yet. Theo enthusiastically grabs a small piece of paper and starts waving it so fast that it is about to reach orbital velocity. After a while, the picture clears up the silhouette of a younger boy, who was about to lie down next to his friend. Blaise looks at the photo and asks smiling, even though he already knows the answer:

"For your or my album?"

"Of course mine," Theodore replies quickly, grinning happily, "Why do you need your own photos? They will be much more useful to me."

The dark-skinned boy can't help but messes Theodore's hair in one move of his hand. However, Theo is not annoyed by that, he reacts to it like a cat, moving closer and silently demanding further caresses, which the younger one does willingly.

They are sitting like that (or rather, Blaise is sitting and Theo's half lying on him) till the sunset. There is a flower crown on Blaise's head, made by Theo with field flowers collected by him. And of course, Theodore took a photo of Blaise in his work of art.

It's getting dark. Butterflies, which were flying around them flew away and gave way for beautiful moths and fireflies. Theodore stands up energetically and starts jumping on protruding trees' roots, chasing insects to take a photo of them.

"Theo, please be careful," Blaise says attentively but the only response is 'don't worry' screamed by Nott.

Blaise unwillingly starts remembering his childhood. Times, when he wasn't Theodore's friend and all that connected them, was the same neighbourhood, chalk and short-term relationship of their parents. Then they found that as a stupid and loathsome. Nowadays, at their seventeen's, just as weird. But they weren't friends. After all, Blaise was friends with Draco and the teacher in primary had repeated that it's better to have fewer friends but true friends. So Blaise fraternizes with Malfoy till he moved to London.

It's not that now Blaise finds it as a mistake or holds any grudge with Draco. But nowadays he thinks that it is not good to withdraw from others.

When Draco had left and moved to London, Blaise had thought they now he stayed alone but on that moment, Theodore slowly crept into his life. Nott sat next to Blaise on school basketball pitch and started reminding happy moments from times when Draco lived in Torquey.

And later he showed his painting to Blaise and dark-skinned boy couldn't believe someone his age could do something that beautiful. A week later Blaise sat down with him in the canteen and sometime later also on most of the lessons so he could distract him from learning to read their favourites comics.

Now, Blaise would imagine his life without his always laughing and only sometimes a little faraway friend.

His thoughts are interrupted by a quiet scream.

"Ouch!"

Blaise, worried, stands up imminently and run through Theo. He is curled up in a fetal position between roods of the biggest tree. Zabini hugs him tightly and Theodore accepts that willing, cuddling to his chest while holds back tears.

"Ah, Theo" Blaise whispers, still cuddling the boy in his arms, "I asked you to be careful."

"I'm sorry, Blaise" he answers, sniffing.

"Don't apologize to me, silly" Blaise couldn't stop himself from nuzzling his friend's cheek.

"But you are worrying now and you warned me that I might get hurt..."

"Shhhh" Zabini interrupts him and places his fingers on Theo's mouth to shushes him "I always worrying about you, no matter if you get hurt or not" he admits truthfully and after a few seconds of silence adds "Please, stop crying.

He stops hugging Theodore, although he wants to do it forever. Blaise squats in from of him and gently grabs his friend's head. He wipes away tears, flowing slowly on fairy (although all that time, spends under the sunlight) skin.

He wants to not cry because of sadness or pain, wants him not to have reasons for a cry.

He wants him to be always happy, even if that meant that Blaise wouldn't be on his side.

Wants, wants, wants.

But the world isn't always beautiful, even if Theodore thinks so. Sometimes the world is cruel, ugly or just totally boring. The same about people who live in it.

Do it's really important to find your refuge. A place, a person or a hobby, which will be like an escape from all evils in that world.

Blaise thought that his escape is comics. Reading them has dragged him into the world of superheroes where he could use his imagination and think about meaningless things for hours such as what superpower would he choose (flying, of course). Besides that, the world in comics is just easier. It isn't hard to differentiate who is good and who's bad. Good people fight with bad people, that's all. The Justice League cares about Gotham and saves innocent people from Joker, Deadshot or Darkseid. In the real world, it would be an unsolvable matter with billions different threads and complications so even the best detectives wouldn't be able to decide who is guilty.

Comics world is just easier.

Lately, Blaise has got to understand that the whole beauty in that world is locked in its confusions, problems and ambiguities. Because the world is beautiful, even if sometimes it's cruel or ugly.

And the one who made him understand that is his only real refuge — Theodore Nott.

He is the one who makes reading comics even better.

He is the one with who Blaise could do anything and it would be incredibly good.

He is the one with who Blaise wants to talk about 'good old times' and makes new memories to remember.

He is the one with who Blaise wants to stay forever.

Theodore Nott is the one who Blaise bestow that hot and unique feeling which, no matter what since says, comes from the heart.

And that feeling, now makes him do something, he has been dreaming about for that long. Blaise gently and unsurely grabs the head of the person, who since a year isn't only a friend for him. He delicately raises Theo's head a bit upper to look him straight into his eyes. Their lips touch slowly and gently. Both of them don't feel so confident with what's going on but they will worry about that later. Now, Blaise doesn't have the time and desire to thinks about the consequences. Not now, when he feels the structure of soft lips of his love.

When the dark-skinned boy doesn't notice any objections from the older boy, he let himself do a light, carefully move with his lips. He doesn't want to scared Theodore, knowing how delicate and artsy person he is. He would ever forgive himself hurting Theo.

If he only knew how long Theodore was waiting for it and how much he enjoys that kiss, even if Blaise's lips are rough and chapped.

Blaise gently moves away and hangs his head down, looking at too long grass. He's afraid of seeing Theodore's reaction for what he has done because he's afraid of rejection and ending that important relationship.

However, Theo, likes he doesn't see his friend insecure, giggles lightly and grabs the younger boy cheeks, turning his face to him.

"Oh, finally. How long might I wait?" Theo says with a delightful smile.

"Really. You... Me..." Blaise mutters like he doesn't know what he wants to say.

"Yeah, silly" Theo chucked and hits an end of Blaise's nose with his "You're definitely my favourite person in that universe. And every other, alternative universe too."

Blaise, still can't believe what's happening, hugs his boy and kisses him quickly. The kiss is one hundred per cent cute and totally not sultry. Because feelings as sultry and desire don't fit Theodore, even in an alternative universe where Bruce Wayne become the Devastator instead of Batman. It just does not fit.

"Yeah, and you're my fav person."

They sit in silence for a while, but it's nothing wrong. The silent can be calming and comfortable, it can say more than every word in the world.

The air is getting cooler and owls' chirps become more ominous, so finally, Blaise breaks the silence and says:

"Theo" mentioned boy turns to him and glance at Zabini, "Is your knee still hurting?"

"It's not that bad" Theo shrugs but Blaise quickly understands that it's not good either, "But can you ride the bicycle? I'll drive on its carrier."

"But what with my skateboard?" Blaise asks inconvenience.

"I'll carry it, please" Zabini's only answer is a sigh but not the irritated one. He doesn't know what would Theo had to do to irritate him.

"Alright, but please, be careful."

Blaise raises Theo's bicycle from the ground and helps the boy to climb up to the luggage carrier and then he carefully sits on its seat. Theodore holds Blaise's skateboard (which he has named against his will — Faith) with one hand and the other one is embraced around Blaise's stomach so Theo can stably stay on the carrier. Well, maybe not only because of that.

"To me?" Blaise proposes and slowly leaves their place.

Theodore automatically nods but then he understands that Blaise can't see him so he quickly says 'yes' some times.

Boys are leaving, slowly and without unnecessary haste, but that moment is different than every previous one, they have spent here. Now, they're leaving their place not as just friends.

From Theodore Nott's album:

"4th of May, 1984 —

My favourite day to remember"

[loxbbg]

Etherial

Chapter 2

Masterlist

Ethereal: extremely delicate and light in a way that seems too perfect for this world.

Its been 3 month since Y/N left with Voldemort. The last time I saw her was when I got my dark mark 2 weeks after she left. She looked tired from the dark circles under her eyes and the bruises from her training and overusing her magic.  When her and Voldemort appeared she was surrounded by all the adults asking her to show them what she had learned so far. After about 5 new spells she learned including the killing curse on a random bird outside she had an obvious look of annoyance on her face she flashed out of the room surprising everyone at the sudden flash. I wasn't surprised she did it. She never was much of a people person unless it was at Hogwarts where she had to be. She didn't use her becen in the 3 months I didn't blame her she was busy.  During the time I went through my own training with Bellatrix I felt worn out with every spell thrown at me. I was expected to do what my father couldn't. I held the Malfoy name and legacy on my back. How was I supposed to do this?

My mothers hands rested on my shoulder as I was hunched over in the chair. Opening my eyes my mother sat below me looking up at me removing my hands from my face.

“Draco my Draco, my beautiful boy I see the turmoil going on in your beautiful eyes.” She looked up at me with worried eyes

“Mother I don't think I can do this. I know I have to but what if I can. I'll be on my own. What if I get caught? I cannot go to Azkaban, he will kill me. This wasn't supposed to happen till after Y/N and I… we were supposed to marry.”

“And It can still happen to Draco. Y/N just has a bigger play in life sooner than we expected but so do you. How do you think Y/n would react to seeing you this way.” She would probably tell me that I'm better than this that I was “The Draco Malfoy” and could do anything with or without her. She was dreadfully silly around me different than what anyone whether it be a death eater or schoolmate she was just my Y/N not “Y/n Wayne” or “The Cursed Godchild” just Y/n.

“Draco If you need me I will be here and even if she isn't here you know Y/N would be here helping you. Trust me you'll see her soon just focus on what has to be done now.” Draco inhaled.

It's been three months. Three months since I last spoke to her. Our 6th year of Hogwarts is supposed to start. My bags were already on the train. My mother and Estrella stood on the platform waiting for me to say goodbye. It was a tradition for them to send us off but today, this year of all years we needed them to be here. I needed her to be here.

“Watch where you're going.” Someone bumped into me almost knocking me off my balance.

“Sorry love I’ve just been so dazed my summer has been crazy.”  That voice sounds so familiar. Looking down at the short black haired girl I haven't seen the entire vacation in her Slytherin robes but, how? She couldn't be done with training.

“Bloody Hell” I pull her body into mine holding her close in the hug.

“Hello darling I’ve missed you. Summer has been one hell of a ride.” She looks up at me smirking.

“Beautiful  you have no idea.” I pressed my lips onto her forehead pulling her further into me. Months felt like years after not seeing her. She moved from under my lips looking up at me, she wraps her arms around my neck pulling me closer to her.

“I've been wanting to do this for a while now.” Our lips meet melting into each other. If the train had not blown its horn we might have missed it.

“They knew by the way.” She whispered after pulling away looking at our parents.

“I finished my training and my mother had already packed my bags so I came early and saved us a seat but we should really go before they leave without us. The faster we get to Hogwarts the faster we can be alone.” She whispers the last line for only me to hear. We wave to our parents running into the train at the final bell of the train. No one knew what we really went through this summer but they will know after what’s coming this year.

(blah blah blah pov switch)

Walking into the cart we walked into the booth with our stuff Pansy and Blaise sitting opposite of where we would sit. Slipping into the booth I link my hands with Draco, I have so much to tell him, to show him. Godfather has shown me things, things near muggles couldn't  fathom.

“ How was your summer?” Parkinson asked, looking down and Dracos and I linked hands. She's always had a crush on Draco. I knew she felt threatened by me always asking me if Draco and I were together? Why did we spend so much time together? What part of us being childhood friends did she not understand? This was meant to happen, sad she had so much hope. Kinda pathetic really.

“Well it wasn't really that eventful. We took some trips together with both our families. It was a shame our fathers couldn't be there but besides for that nothing much happened.” I kept eye contact with Pansy smiling as I brushed my thumb on Draco’s. He breaks away from his conversation with Blaise looking in my direction he leans close to my ear

“You know you're making it obvious.” I smirked against his ear, glancing over at Pansy who looked annoyed and uncomfortable.

“ I know, that's the point” Pulling away I put a small peck on his lips before leaning my head onto his shoulder.

“Oh yeah and that too.”I shrug. Pansy thinks everything outside the window looks more interesting than looking at us, Blaise just looked at smirking at Draco continuing their conversation, Draco wraps his arm around my waist. I unintentionally fell asleep on his shoulder.

“What just happened? Blaise? “ My eyes quickly fluttered open hearing Draco who was looking around the cart

“Don't know,” Blaise responded. Just then, a small bag teeters, then tumbles from a luggage rack. It was Draco's wheels.

“Relax guys. The lights went out is all. Come on Draco we’ll be at Hogwarts before you know it.” She bats her non-existent eye lashes at her. Her flirting couldn't be anymore obvious its getting desperate at this point.

Draco eyes the bag, slinging it back onto the luggage rack and plops down. I run my hands through his hair looking up at the bag, It's never happened before.

“Hogwarts. What a pathetic excuse for a school. I think I’d pitch myself off the Astronomy Tower if I thought I had to continue on for another two years.” I continue twisting my fingers through his hair. It truly was pathetic it could've been a great school centuries ago.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Pansy asked.

“Let’s just say I don’t think you’ll be seeing Y/N and I, wasting our time in Charms Class next year.” Pansy Glances over at Blaise who just snorts. Looking over at me I just shrug agreeing with what Draco said.

“Are you amused Blaise? We’ll see just who’s laughing in the end.”  I chuckled to myself, if things were different maybe he would tell Blaise, I could care less about Pansy and her wondering little hands. I saw how she reached out for Darco when she thought I was asleep.

Blaise shakes his head, smiling as he looks out the window at the darkness of the tunnel. Just then the small bag in the upper rack shifts. Dracos and I look up to it. Draco reached for his wand still looking up to the bag, I have a clue to what or who might be in the rack and I think Draco does as well. I reached for his hand shaking my head ‘no’ now wasn't the time with all these people around.

“Later.” I whispered, not moving my head from his shoulder. If Potter wasn't so obvious he might have heard. The rest of the ride was met in silence as Draco refused to say anything unless it was small talk.

As the Hogwarts express pulled into the station Draco and I stayed behind. Draco pulled down our bags gripping onto the handle.

“Go guys, we'll meet up in a bit. I think I left something in the bathroom.” I shooed Pansy and Blaise away. They know Draco and I are like glue so they didn't expect him to leave me alone. Walking out the train cart Draco lets the blinds down with a spell closing the door in the process.

“Didn’t mummy ever tell you it’s bad manners to eavesdrop, Potter? Petrificus Totalus!” Draco points his wand to the luggage rack. Harry hits the floor with a thump. I moved Harry's Invisibility cloak revealing him paralized to the floor.

“She can't remember she's been dead before he could wipe the drool off his face.” I smirk looking bored at Harry’s shocked expression at my response. Unusually I would just watch ‘helplessly’ as Draco made fun of him but never participated.

Draco brought his foot down onto Harry’s face snapping his nose blood pooling from it. I move the invisibility cloak onto Harry faking a pout.

“Enjoy the ride back to London.” Draco spat.

“Goodbye Harry” I fully covered his face, Draco already at the door with the rest of our bags to the carriages. Walking up you our carriage of course there needed to be an issue

“It's not a cane, you cretin.It’s a walking stick.” Flinched passed a metal detector over the stick in question. If I could I would flash us into hogwart by now but ‘no’ that's gonna raise suspicion.

“And what exactly would you be wanting with a walking stick?” Aren't these muggle lovers supposed to be sensitive?

“It's his Fathers you insensitive bastard.” I sneered leaning on the carriage.

“Was his fathers.” Snape separated himself from the shadows. Draco, eyeing him warily, snatching the stick from Filch.

“Is my father’s. He’s not dead.” He was sent to Alatraz and all of a sudden they don't even mention him in the present no wonder Draco hates it here.  Draco carefully wraps the stick in felt, laying it back inside his trunk.

“It’s alright, Mr. Filch. I can vouch for Mr. Malfoy and Mrs. Wayne.” Snape says putting the last of the things into the carriage. Instead of coming in with me Snape and Draco walked besides it while it moved. Turning around Draco caught Harry looking at him. I followed his gaze at Potter with a crooked nose.

“Nice face, Potter.” Draco called out as Potter was no longer in sight.

“My mother told me what you're doing for Draco. She also told me what you know. Are you sure you're willing to leave all of this. Betray the people you call your friends for the dark lord.” I turned my attention to snape. Is it really wise to have someone willing to betray the people he was around for so long.

“These people were never my friends, merely a cover until you godfather came back to make his claim.” I didn't want to question him too much in fear of others hearing but for now it satisfied my curiosity. Good to know someone on the inside was watching.  Glancing ast Draco who looked deep in thought I snapped my fingers at him.

“What are you thinking about, ferret?” I chuckled at the name given to him after he was changed to one a year ago. He wasn't too fond of it but I couldn't care.

“You know I hate when you call me that.” he snapped.

“Just answer.” I chuckled.

“Just thinking about father. Do you think that he will get out.” I hadn't even thought about it, both of our fathers were locked up. I hadn't had the time to really think about it. It was the first summer my father, both our fathers were not  home when we returned from Hogwarts. We hadn't been able to go on our family trip. Everything changed this summer.

“Draco, you don't trust godfather, trust me. I will do everything I can to get them out I swear.” He smiled up at me. I stepped out of the carriage wanting to walk with him. He pulled me close to him kissing the ring he gave to me during the triwizard games. Hogwarts was in our sights looking up. I let out a breath. Being here again made me realize this yeari will finally be doing something important and worthy rather than having these people suck up to me for my name.

“Are you ready.” Draco asked. Looking back Snape let out a breath looking like he's over this already.

“Born ready.”

[valeriethepussycats]

Inside Out

Chapter 9

Pairing- Loki x Reader

Warning-cursing

Your thoughts and other characters are in italics.Flashbacks are in bold.

“Oh, my God.” Jane picks up the keys from the floor of the cave.

“Am I interrupting something.” Richard whispered.

“No, no, no, nothing at all.” Realizing how they can return to Earth, Jane turns to Thor. “Come on.”

Thor picks up Y/n bridal style. “Don’t worry Y/n we are going to find out what’s wrong.”

“I'm losing you there, are you in a tunnel?” Richard asked.Thor starts following Jane.

“Where are we going?” Thor asked.

“Hello?” Richard said into the phone.

They start walking further into the cave, Thor notices the discarded shoes that were thrown through from the abandoned factory. “Why are there so many shoes in here?”

As they walks further in suddenly they disappear; back in his office Richard loses Jane on the phone. “I'll just text her.”

Y/n, Jane, and Thor appear back on Earth outside the factory. Jane points to car and Thor places Y/n in the backseat. Jane and Thor get into Ian's abandoned car that was still parked outside the factory and Jane tries to staqrt the cat.

“So, Who’s Richard?”

“Really?”

Jean drives off from the factory.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

At Darcy’s apartment

Jean opens the door and rushes in the Apartment with Thor hot on her heels.

“Jane!” Darcy cried.

“Hey.” Jane said dryly.

Thor rushes over to the couch and places Y/n there.

“I need to see if I’ll going to get any reading.” Jane announced as she looks for the gadget she was using to find Thor days ago.

“Y/n!!! What’s going on?” Darcy wondered. “You can't just leave like that, the whole world is going crazy! “

“If the Aether is inside Y/n this....” Jane said holding up the gadget. “.....Should tell us.

Jane turns on the gadget and waves it over Y/n’s body and nothing happens. No sound is made, the meter doesn’t even move. “Don’t understand....didn’t some of the Aether go inside Y/n?”

Erik walks out the bathroom and sees Thor, Y/n unconscious on the couch, and Jane.

Her and Y/n are wearing Asgardian clothes (Except Jane was blue and Y/n is red.) and disheveled state. “Did you go to a party?” Jane notices Erik for the first time.

Thor hangs his hammer on the coat hanger next to the door. “All the stuff we saw is spreading.”

“Erik?!” Jane said blinking.

��Jane, how wonderful!” Erik said as he goes to Jane and as he embraces her while he isn't wearing any pants. “You've been to Asgard.”

“Where are your pants?” Jane wondered.

“Oh, uh...he uh...he says it helps him think.” Ian answered.

“Okay. Well, I'm gonna need everything you got on this. All the work you've been doing on gravimetric anomalies, everything.” Jane stated.

“Okay.”

“Are you well, Erik?” Thor asked.

Erik chuckles then his smile fades quickly. “Your brother is not coming, is he?l

“Loki is dead.” Thor answered.

“Oh, thank God.” Thor looks at him in confusion. “I....I'm so sorry.”

“Thank you.”

Erik then embraces Thor.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Back on Svartalfheim we see an Einherjar Guard use the ship that brought Y/n, Thor, Loki, and Jane onto the planet to return to Asgard, he goes to see Odin at the palace.

“Forgive me, my liege. I've returned from the Dark World with news.” The Guard said.

“Thor?” Odin asked.

“There's no sign of Thor, or the weapon, but...” he takes a step closer to Odin.

“What?”

“We found a body.”

There's a moment's pause.

“Loki.”

The warrior doesn't reply but just looks at Odin.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Back at Jane's apartment

“Malekith is going to fire the Aether at a spot where all the nine worlds are connected.” Jane explained.

“Amplifying the weapon's impact. With each additional world, the power will increase exponentially. The effect would be universal.” Erik chimed in.

“Yes, well the alignment is only temporary. He must be in exactly at the right place at the right time.” Thor said.

“Well, how do we know where that is?” Darcy chimed in.

“We follow the directions. This has happened before, thousands of years ago, and The Ancients were there to see it.” Erik places a map of the British Isles on the coffee table. “All the great constructions: the Mayas, the Chinese, the Egyptians, they made use of the gravitational effects of the Convergence. And they left us a map.”

Eril starts drawing on the map. “Stonehenge. Snowdon, the Great Orme. These are all coordinates taking us...here.” he points to Greenwich on the map.

“Greenwich?” Ian asked.

“The walls between worlds will be almost non-existent. Physics is gonna go ballistic. Increase and decrease in gravity, spatial extrusions. The very fabric of reality is gonna be torn apart.” Jane said.

Thor summons Mjolnir and it shoots over to Thor's hand from the where it was hanging on the coat hanger.

“What going on?”

All eyes turns to the living room. As they see Y/n standing up holding her head.

“Oh my G-O-S-H......your Red Wing.” Ian said with pure shock on his face.

“We’re on earth?” Y/n asked.

“Yes.” Erik answered.

“Erik....” Y/n said looking around the room and see every one but him. “Where’s Loki?”

Everyone physically tense. Thor moves forward slowly. “Loki....is”

“Back on Asgard.”

“What?” Y/n said in a curious tone.

“We were followed.” Jane answered.

“How we were clean.” Y/n indicated. “Loki wouldn’t give himself up unless.......”

Y/n, I’m sorry

“No,.....Thor you didn’t.” Y/n said with her head tilted downward.

“It was the only way to get Jane off Asgard.” Thor said with the a downward gaze.

“No it wasn’t, there’s always another way.” Y/n proclaimed. “I’m never going to see him again.”

“Y/n, I’m sorry.” Thor said moist eyes

“Me, too.” Y/n said with an sad smile as she walks out the apartment.

“Y/n....” Thor called out but the door was closed and Y/n was gone.

“I better get my pants.” Erik announced.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Y/n walked the streets of London in her Asgardian attire that’s why she was getting funny looks not because she had black veins on her neck. It was the clothes. Y/n walked until she found an abandoned warehouse. She needed to let it out it been building up since she was on Asgard. She just ignored it because her mind was Preoccupied by Loki and being there for him that she bottled her emotions, to the point where she being to shake. This has never happened before. Seconds before Y/n is about to let it out....

“Don’t do that.” A voice announced.

“Don’t do what?” Y/n wondered as she powers reached a boiling point.

“I know what you’re thinking about doing.” The voice like it was getting closer. “I felt it all the way from the other side of the world.”

“What are you a mutant?” Y/n said in a curious tone. Y/n is hugging herself to stop her powers from lashing out.

“Yes.” Voice emerges from the dark and Y/n see a man with neck length,Brown hair with a white streak in the front. He’s about 5'9 and he had electric blue eyes. Y/n could look into then and find calm. Maybe it’s because he’s a mutant and he doesn’t wanted her to be apart of his team. He walked up to Y/n slowly.

“I’m Nathaniel Grey.” He said holding his hand out for Y/n to shake.

Y/n hesitate then shakes his hand and doing so Nathaniel takes her hand and raises it to his lips and kisses Y/n’s hand.

“Your mother is Jean Grey?” Y/n wondered. “That name sounds familiar.”

Nathaniel’s eyes widened in shock. No one. I Repeat no one was able to read his mind. Not even Charles Xavier one of the most powerful minds he ever came across nor Exodus ‘The Hero With No Fear’ couldn’t read his mind. He had defenses in his mind put up to prevent anyone from coming in and yet Y/n did it with ease.

“Yes, she is and your mother is.........” Nathaniel trailed off trying to look inside Y/n’s mind but can’t.

“Ororo Munroe.” Y/n answered.

Mind you now Nathaniel has not let Y/n’s hand go. “You are astonishing.” Nathaniel disclosed. “How did I not feel you before.”

“Feel....are you telepathic?” Y/n wondered with a hopeful look in her eyes.

“I am....may I know your name.” Nathaniel said maintaining eye contact.

Y/n gives Nathaniel a quizzical smile. “Y/n Munroe.”

“May I see you again?”

“Ummm....ya yes....but I am in a relationship.” Y/n told Nathaniel as she slowly takes her hand out of his.

Nathaniel hides his disappointment but Y/n can see right though it. “I would still like to see you as a friend then.”

“Of course.” Y/n answered then realized that her arms had stopped shaking and the black veins had disappeared.

Nathaniel starts to walks away but he didn’t want to leave.

“Thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything.” Nathaniel replied turning to look at her.

“You stopped me from destroying this factory and who knows what else.” Y/n said with a faraway look.

“Us Mutants stick together.” Nathaniel said with a coy smile.

“Mutant and Proud.”

Nathaniel smile. “Can I walk you home?

Y/n narrowed her eyes at him.

“I just think your love ones wouldn’t want you walking around at night.” Nathaniel proclaimed.

Y/n shakes her head but smile. “My home is in New York I’m just.......here.”

“Are you gonna go home?” Nathaniel asked.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Well….. I tried.”

“Ya you did.” Y/n as she placed a hand on his shoulder. “See you around Nathan.”

Y/n said as she flys away.

“What a woman.” Nathaniel whispered.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

The Next Day.

In Greenwich at the location outside a library Darcy and Ian grab Erik's gadget.

“Focus, this is important. We have to hammer them in all around the site and then Jane and Erik will activate them from the tower.” Darcy said.

“They're taped together!” Ian proclaimed.

“Do you even know what these things do?”

“No.”

“Neither do I.” Darcy and Ian start placing Erik's gadgets around the library grounds. “Come on, come on!”

“Fine!”

Suddenly Malekith's giant ship appears on the River Thames near the library grounds.

“Holy shit!”

The ship starts moving forward and crashing through the library grounds causing pandemonium until it finally stops in the middle of the grounds, Malekith and his dark elves step off the ship and the same time Thor flies in and lands in front of Malekith.

“You needn't have come so far, Asgardian! Death would have come to you soon enough.” Malekith proclaimed.

“Not by your hand!” Thor declared.

“Your universe was never meant to be. Your world and your family will be extinguished.” Malekith uses the power of the Aether to attack Thor but Thor manages to narrowly miss getting hit by it.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

It was a slow day at the Airport and Y/n was feeling it. It felt like it time had slowed down as she was sitting in the airport waiting for her flight to New York. Y/n didn’t want to leave but it was the only option. Y/n felt betrayed, Thor was supposed to be her friend.

Why would he do that

Y/n exhaling noisily through pursed lips and gets up and walks over to the lady sitting behind the desk.

“Hi, when is the flight from here to New York departing?” Y/n asked.

“It should be leav-“

Suddenly a woman by a big window screams and Y/n rushes over to her.

“Are you ok?” Y/n questioned.

“What an the bloody hell is that?” The woman said still looks out the window.

Y/n follows the woman’s gaze out the window and see Malekith's giant ship.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Inside the library setting up the gravimetric device

“We're running out of time.” Erik stated.

“Almost there.” Jane replied.

“Are you sure this is going to work? These devices were made to detect anomalies, not cause them.”

“Oh, come on.” Jane looks out and sees Thor and Malekith battling it out. “Come on, Darcy.” Jane rushes off to find Darcy; outside Thor manages to deflect the Aether that Malekith is using to fight him off.

“You know with all that power, I thought you would hit harder.” Thor said with a smirk.

Malekith is using the Aether to shield himself suddenly Thor throws his hammer at him which throws Malekith across the ground and smashes him against the library building, at the same time Jane sees Darcy and Ian placing the last of Erik's device in the ground.

“Done.” Ian said. Darcy gives the OK sign to Jane and Jane rushes back to Erik.

“The Convergence will be in full effect in seven minutes.” Erik told Jane.

“That just means we have to keep Malekith busy for eight.” Jane gets the device ready. “Okay, you might wanna hold on to something.” She turns on the device and suddenly some of the dark elves suddenly disappear.

Darcy and Ian watch this nearby, Darcy talks to Jane on her phone. “That is awesome! How did you do that?”

“Well, gravitational fields interact with the weak spot between worlds creating...” Jane answered.

“Oh, there's a guy with a sword!” Darcy commented.

Jane uses the device again to make the dark elf disappear but instead she accidentally makes Darcy and Ian disappear.

“Oops.” Jean whispered.

“Let's go.” Erik urged.

Darcy and Ian appear in another part of London

“What the hell just happened?” Darcy wondered.

Suddenly the dark elves that had also disappeared appear and fall onto a parked car. “Move!” Darcy grabs hold of Ian's hand and they run off as the dark elves start chasing after them; back at the library Thor and Malekith continue their battle and everyone inside the library rushes to the windows to watch.