#john is the first oc i hate with my whole soul

[sp1resong]

pleasepleaseplease talk about your ocs i am so curious

OKAY SO

i have... four? ish? main oc stories/universe atm, not counting random fandom ocs i make on the side that aren't linked to any big overarching story

those four are Dr. Paradise's Theory of the Self, Tales of Godborn (<- title i am planning to change but do not yet have anything to change to), The Poison Beneath, and Onelight's Dawn. the latter two are warrior cats, and the former two are generic cat furries (...and both started as wc. Me when i got the warrior cats autism instead of the good at math or science autism)

im just going to go off about dptots because.Good lord. i am so infodumping. my hands would shrivel up and fall off if i wrote any more of this i hope you understand

DPTotS is a story about identity, personhood, and necromancy, i guess. at its bare basics.

um. The titular Dr. Willow "Will" Paradise (she/her) is a reclusive scientist and self-proclaimed alchemist. In her younger days, she found some manner of fame as "Miracle Worker Will", a so-called genius who claimed to be seeking immortality itself.

she very suddenly fell out of the public eye in what can only be described as "the identity crisis of a century" following which she threw herself into the sea to test a theory of hers. and promptly drowned to death. (she got better)

now with a bond to the Abyss (yeah the ocean is a whole entire eldritch horror in this universe), along with several new and unknown neuroses and complexes, Will shuts herself away in her lighthouse (for the most part! she still occasionally attends social events--but it's odd, her demeanor has changed entirely almost overnight...)

eventually she drops her titular Theory of the Self, which proclaims that identity is invariably a facade, and that true selfhood is guided by motivation; by which parts of your mind drive your choices.

she splits the Self [or; the abstract entity who is capable of making choices] into three distinct guiding factors:

the Heart [representing emotion]

the Mind [representing logic]

the Will [representing desire]

(...before you ask, i promise i am not lying when i say i wrote that part long before i even knew who chonny jash was)

though it is not a part of her in-universe theory, on a more meta level there is a fourth factor, the Mask, which represents the charade of a cohesive identity, or the urge to adhere to social norms and etiquette even when every other part of you is screaming against it.

anyways! wow there are. Actually three more main characters. good lord. i am the fucking infodumper

um! the other main characters are Doe (it/its), Alice Grey (she/her), and Dorian Winters (he/him).

Doe is... the sole inhabitant of the corpse of John Doe. John died of a stab wound in a back alley and Will stumbled upon his corpse some time later. She wasn't about to look a gift corpse in the mouth, bringing his body back and attempting to recreate the conditions of her own resurrection in the controlled environment of her lab. If this worked--why, she would have earned her title of Miracle Worker! she would have found the key to eternity, to conquer death itself--

and work it did, or so it seemed, at first.

truth is, Doe does not remember being John. perhaps it lost its memory as some consequence of the trauma of dying and being resurrected, or perhaps John's mind could not be saved at all, and another was constructed in its stead.

whether a broken John or a new soul entirely, it doesn't matter, really! because we have Doe now. Doe, identity issues connoisseur (in other news i fuckign hate spelling connoisseur why does french have so many god damn fucking letters in it. Spellcheck save me), who lives life as a failed copy, a dead man's shadow, a mere shard of what it should be. does it imagine the disappointment in will's gaze when it lingers on its eyes (bright blue; her same color. john's were amber)? is the face in the mirror truly its own? when it looks down, are those its hands by right?

it knows the answer, of course. or... 'know' is not the right word. it does not know anything. it feels. that is all it can do.

alice, meanwhile, is a Completely Normal Cat with an Ordinary Life--which is to say, her issues at the beginning of the story are fairly mundane in comparison to whatever the fuck is going on with the other two (this fact will change).

her in-laws dragged her to some fancy party, once. she did not have a good time at all, and just kind of stood uncomfortably in the corner the whole time until she was approached by an Odd Stranger dot dot dot... just kidding it's will fucking paradise. Will decides to spare alice from the woes of Standing There Awkwardly and strikes up a conversation. alice is nervous at first, but will is like. scarily good at figuring people out (and figuring out how to get other people to trust her as a result), and alice quickly becomes comfortable around her.

they become fast friends! alice learns more about will, while will hears of alice's assorted wiles and woes.

she wants a lot of things, but she's too nervous to get them. she doesn't like her family, she doesn't like the city, she doesn't like the life she is living, she feels like everything goes by too fast and she will never be able to do all she wants to with her time on this earth.

will is sympathetic, of course. she hears her out and offers a shoulder to cry on, and offers carefully-picked bits and pieces of her own history and struggles that alice might be able to relate to. until...

um. long story short will pushes alice off a cliff into the ocean, thereby granting her will's brand of quasi-immortality (she does not age, and she is very difficult to kill; so long as abyss doesn't decide to pull the plug, so to speak. which it can do at any time).

now, alice, who literally fucking died and had her soul pledged to an eldritch horror without her consent at the hands of someone she thought was her friend, is rightfully fucking pissed about this. and one thing about alice is that once she's gotten over her initial fear of rocking the boat she is stubborn.

alice swears revenge. she misses will, she hates will, she never wantts to see will again, she wants will to apologize, she doesn't know what to feel or think. this all hardens into one thought: will has to die. she has to. she has to.

um.Admittedly this part of the story is Way less planned out due to being fairly close to the ending, but whateverr

oh yeah also doe has a character arc where it learns to accept that it isn't John, and that it doesn't have to be John, and just being Doe is enough. also it befriends John's widowed husband. long story.

anyways! some shtuff happens (i'm not... sure what yet), the three of them are brought to the seafloor by abyss in a dream. btw theyre all associated with some small element of abyss's imagery because fuck you that's why (alice has tridents, will has ink, and doe has.I haven't decided yet).

now, in this dream-state these bits of imagery become more real--will's palms are ink-stained, doe... ...i'll figure it out, and, most importantly, alice gets an actual trident because.First of all haha chonny jash hyperfixation and second of all. she deserves a large stabbing weapon okay

alice proceeds to threaten will's life! and yet will... doesn't react at all. alice holds her trident to her throat and will looks back, unmoved, looking, if anything, slightly bored as she stares at her death. and alice all but begs will for a reaction, anything to bring some catharsis into this bloodshed, anything to make this all worth it. by the end of it, she's sobbing on the floor and will is looking down at her.

and will apologizes, and alice doesn't forgive her. and she cant bring herself to do it anymore. and nothing will ever be the same again

and then some more stuff happens idk i dont even know how the story ends it just exists as a Cluster of Scenes That I Want To Animate featuring the Guys (gender neutral)

...oh yeah. and dorian. i forgot about dorian. fuckin uhh. dorian is will's college friend and a former singer slash musician, who had the misfortune of becoming rather famous for his music. and now he's a public figure no matter what he does and he fucking hates it. but he'd never go up front and say he fucking hates it, of course. he is passive aggressive forever and ever and

will crashes on his couch sometimes, as the most Normal of her friend group, and by Most Normal i mean literally just the only one not involved with the horrors (very low bar)

anyways.

the story also functions as something of a... parable, i suppose, about will's titular theory! will represents the mind, doe represents the heart, alice represents the will (...yeah, the character named will isn't the will. lmao. look, this was a later addition. and, to be fair, if she were writing the story, im fairly certain she would do this on purpose), and dorian represents the mask.

...and the abyss represents The ocean is really really fucked up /silly

nah, abyss's position in the metaphor is Up To Interpretation tm. as i see it, theyre a vague representation of mental illness, but eh. the author is dead here.

tl;dr: if there were three guys at the bottom of the ocean and two of them tried to kill each other would that be fucked up or what

[gyromitra-esculenta]

A thing I’m definitely not writing that somehow clocks at 4.3k words. Tw*atter thread.

Returning to the small remote town he spent two years of his childhood in to get his father’s estate in order, Gabriel reconnects with his teen crush.

‘Top of the Lake’ inspired. If you’d seen the show, the content warnings would be half-a-page long, but then you know what to expect. Warnings otherwise: substance abuse, referenced domestic violence of several kinds, child neglect, and a lot of past events that are not explicitely said but alluded to.

There’s also a missing transition scene.

*

The only reason he doesn't slam the brakes the moment he hears the question is the fact he hasn't been paying too much attention to both the road - empty as usual - and the kid.

"What?"

"You want to fuck him, don't you?" Angel repeats, his arms crossed in front of his chest, stubborn frown in its place, and glare fixed on the windshield.

"You asked Jack that, and that's why he was out after working his shift?"

The only answer Gabriel gets is a kick to the door.

"Listen, that's... That's the last thing I'd want to do." He glances at Angel, trying to come up with sufficient explanation for the whole thing, somehow. And failing at it. "It's not that. Things happened. I'm amazed he's even talking to me, at all. I fucked up, kid."

"He'd let you. Everybody knows he's a slut."

Gabriel decelerates and pulls up at the side of the road without a word. Only after he's able to let go of the wheel he turns to Angel.

"You shouldn't be spending time with John and the rest of family if that's what you take from it."

"But it's true." Angel still glares somewhere in front of him, defensive posture and all. It couldn't have been easy on the kid, either, growing up in this shithole of a town with all the bigotry and John's long shadow. This thought is the only thing keeping Gabriel calm.

"It isn't. And even if it were, there is nothing wrong with it." He sighs. "And the last person calling him anything at all should be John. Or any of his fucking progeny. Or you, for that matter." Gabriel pauses, waiting for a reaction of any kind as an excuse to drop the subjec. But Angel remains motionless, refusing to even give indication he's listening. "I know you're feeling you're untouchable and all, enjoying almost carefree life, and Jack had it going for him too, once. 'Morrison Princess', that's what everybody called him. Now, it's you."

"So?"

Gabriel had been a rebellious teenager once, and if they weren't parked on the side of the road and touching on things from fifteen years ago, he would maybe smirk knowingly at the obvious attempt to fish for the story while trying to appear disinterested. "Anyone ever tell you he threw Jack out to fend for himself after he refused to give you up? Yeah, didn't think so," he nods at the alarmed expression on Angel's face.

"People love to put the blame on the victims, makes them feel better about themselves."

The kid's just sitting there, nibbling on his lips, something Jack used to do when thinking hard about anything, a habit he apparently lost in his adulthood. Funny, how he managed to notice it, another thing gone in the years he wasn't there. He starts the engine back. If he had only waited three months before bailing out. The regret has a bitter taste to it even if there was no way he could have known. And with John being the religious hypocrite he was, an abortion had been out of the question. But he was not going to tell the kid that. At least, the old bastard turned out to be less of a racist asshole than he could be, but that probably had more to do with Francis, Angel's status, and John's need to be in control of everything in the town. Gabriel is thankful Angel's not in the mood for asking more questions. Especially, the kind of questions that make him revisit the past and think about all the different possibilities that never came to be - that maybe he could've been calling the kid his own even if he wasn't the biological father. But with everything that had been going on then

The rest of the drive takes too long - at the same time passes too fast, and just like that he's letting Angel out by the school.

"You should really apologize to Jack later."

No answer, only the side door slammed shut, but the momentary grimace on the kid's face tells him all. He hadn't intended to do it, so he took the talk to the heart after all, and doesn't feel unjustly called out on the bullshit he pulled. Now, Gabriel lets himself grip the steering wheel until his hands hurt, releasing it only when he stops at the station's parking.

"You're not looking too good." Ana, with a cup of coffee in her hand, does not bother to start the day with the pleasantries.

"Jack and Angel had an argument, bad one, I think."

"And you know that because...?"

"Because, you know, I'd been driving Angel to school for a month now."

"Because I like hearing that. What was it about?" Ana sours immediately when she sees him just shaking his head instead of answering. "Shit. The last time it happened, Jack totaled his car. On a dirt road. Drunk," she adds, sipping the coffee from the cup.

"Yes, thank you, Ana, I'm not going to worry, then." Gabriel throws the jacket on the chair. "So I'm not going to call the hospital and the morgue now."

"We would get to know first, if anyone finds him."

He's reaching for the work phone anyway. She had once mentioned off-hand the problems with alcohol Jack had, and Jack himself had been forthcoming with a lot of details about those fifteen years, but even with no alcohol involved his mind was running the possible scenarios of everything that could have happened. Animals, ravines, hunters, other drivers, the lake itself, anything really, all that without including the ill intent, and knowing Jack and his affinity for the woods, all the remote places it could happen where no-one else would venture into normally.

"Got you to agonize over something else, haven't I?"

"Again, thank you, but not..." Gabriel drops the receiver when his phone rings and he breathes a sigh of relief at the flashing name. Shows it briefly to Ana before picking up the call. "Where are you? Is everything okay?"

"Gabe, right? You're Gabe?" The voice on the other side is definitely not Jack. A woman, sounding slightly confused.

"Where did you get that phone?" On the other side of the room, Ana perks up.

"You must be Gabe, because that's the last call here?"

"Yes, I'm 'Gabe'. Where is Jack? Can you..." Gabriel closes his eyes when she starts speaking again.

"Oh, it's Lena, you know? We think someone should pick him up, and your number was first..."

"Pick him up from where?"

"So Zen found him on the beach, and we brought him here."

Zen. Zenyatta. While she hasn't answered any of his questions, and he's sure now she's high as a kite, Gabriel can put a face to the name, and the location. That's one place Jack's going to be safe at.

"You're at the commune?"

"Yes. Our little piece of paradise."

"I'll be there in a few. Stay there. Not an inch." He ends the call as soon as Lena starts to talk again, before she can add another word, and throws the jacket back on. "It's not going to be problem, is it?"

"No. Looks like a slow day. If not, I'll call the reserve."

"I'll leave the squad..."

"Take it." Ana leans back in the chair and puts her legs on the desk. "The service there's spotty, at least the radio should work. Try not to get too strict on you-know-what, they're making no trouble and spend a lot of money, so no harm."

"Yes. Because I'm going there to bust some pot-smokers, and not to pick one idiot up." Gabriel grabs the keys on the way out.

"Call me when you know what happened."

"Yes, mom." He almost hears the mandatory eye-roll at the nickname.

"Cheeky bastard."

(scene transition, or whatever goes here, waxing poetic about nature or something, internal monologue.)

Jack, still obviously drunk, looks at him, and immediately makes a displeased face. Would be funny if not for the bruise forming on his forehead, and the bandaged hand. Gabriel could dwell on the pang of hurt but since he's got a pretty good idea it has less to do with just him, and more with him being here and now, he sits down next to the mattress on the floor.

"Where's your car?"

"Ana sent you?" Jack articulates with the drunken kind of care.

"Not really." Gabriel looks at the phone in his palm. "Lena called me. She's baked."

"Half the people here are," Jack answers absentmindedly, and then covers his mouth with a sheepish look of someone who said too much.

"I noticed. What's with the hand?"

"Glass from the bottle. I think. It's just a cut."

"Mhm. A cut." Gabriel puts the phone on the blanket and reaches for the bandaged arm. The dressing looks professional and covers the whole forearm. He doesn't like the implication. "And the car?"

"The old pier. Where we went swimming in the summer." Jack chuckles, his eyes closing. "That summer. The only summer."

"Yeah, I remember. C'mon, you can sleep it off at the station." Gabriel nudges him lightly.

"I don't want to. Ana will have words."

"Yeah, she will have 'words'. Want to stay here then?"

"Don't you have work?" Jack picks at the sleeve of his uniform, and something about the assumption present in the question makes Gabriel almost smile.

"Off the hook about today. Do you need anything?"

"Something to drink?" Jack draws his brows together at the look Gabriel gives him. "Warm."

"Okay, I'll see what I can do." He gets back up, dislodging Jack's fingers from the fabric with caution. He had seen an elaborate kettle outside. "Just don't wander off anywhere."

"Won't."

The kettle itself proves more challenging than he had expected it to be, at least until Zenyatta comes to the table and operates it with ease.

"Samovar, courtesy of Zarya, officer Reyes." The monk hands him a cup full of bitter smelling tea. "I take it you are here for Jack?"

Gabriel nods, noting also another Asian man standing behind Zenyatta.

"Thank you for coming down the other day to give the statement about the altercation with the Morrisons."

The other man mutters something in foreign language, obviously non-flattering, and probably offensive.

"One does not choose the earthly bonds they are born into, what one chooses is what to do with them." A roundabout way of saying that there is no resentment towards Jack for whatever the rest of his family tries to do about the land.

"How bad was his hand?"

"I am, I do admit, adverse to physical harm. It is best to ask Hanzo." Zenyatta inclines his head to his companion.

"Shallow lacerations, many of them." Hanzo does not seem willing to continue, eyeing Gabriel suspiciously, and it does nothing to dispel his doubts.

"It would do good to remember Jack is a troubled soul," Zenyatta lightly touches his arm, "but so are you, officer Reyes. Now, if you excuse me, I have some matters to attend to."

He nods again and walks past him with Hanzo in tow. There is something out of place about the brunet, not just about his status, but rather his whole manner he carries himself with - the kind of predatory confidence - and if the circumstances were different, he would've been the first person Gabriel's gun would be aimed at. But that's something left to ponder for another day.

He returns to the re-purposed cargo container to find Jack curled on his side and sleeping. Definitely better for both of them for him to sleep off the alcohol because Gabriel isn't sure how much more he can take now. From the very first day this fucking town has been out to get him. For years, he only had to deal with the occasional nightmare every few months, until the first night he spent at the house, and for the sake of his own sanity he should get out of here. The sooner, the better. And that would mean leaving Jack behind - Jack, who had never been a part of the equation - in the place that tries its damnedest to kill anything good about it.

Gabriel drinks from the cup. The tea is as bitter as it smells, with a sour and earthy aftertaste. Everything has always been about that one summer, the one he was barely fifteen and fell in love for the first time, with the boy who knew all the secret places in the woods. By the looks of it, and all the failed relationships since then, he never fell out of it, either. But this was the thing, his own feelings were nothing but just that, his own. And Jack could do without any more complications in his life. The fact that he had let Gabriel back in as much as he did knowing he wouldn't stay...

"You're a real piece of work sometimes, you know?"

With no answer coming, and not expecting one anyway, he leans against the wall, thinking, or rather trying not to, to idle the time away.

Excited shouting interrupts the quiet, and for a brief moment Gabriel is presented with the image of Lena running topless towards the lake. One of the other women is fast on her heels, stripping on the way, the t-shirt thrown over her shoulder falling to the ground. Now, he cannot fathom how anyone, even high, would think the weather is warm enough to go for a swim, but that had never stopped him as a kid. Gabriel checks the time on his phone at the groan from the side. He must've napped without anyone bothering them for two hours to just pass.

Jack slowly pulls himself to a sitting position, bleary-eyed, probably still buzzed a bit, and with an obvious hangover setting in. He cradles his left hand to his stomach with a visible wince.

"I fucked up. Sorry." His eyes are focused in his lap.

"Happens to the best of us. Here, drink at least a bit." Gabriel hands him the cup with the remaining tea. "I'll go and get a hot one."

"No. It's good. I... could you just..." Jack inclines his head, and he's not sure at first what he means by that, or that maybe he's misunderstanding, the gesture itself reminiscent of the summer. Jack starts mumbling at his hesitation. "No. I mean, it's stupid..."

"Scoot over."

Some awkward shuffling later, he has Jack sitting between his legs, back to his chest, the blanket loosely draped around the both of them. The hint of late berries and autumn underbrush is still there even hidden under the detergent and shampoo, not only in his imagination. Jack sips the cold tea, seemingly perfectly comfortable with Gabriel's arm resting across his midriff.

"Could you not say anything to Angel?"

"The kid isn't that stupid. He's almost fifteen." Gabriel shrugs.

"We were plenty stupid at his age."

He snorts at that.

"Because we shared one hormonal brain cell between the two of us for the most of the time. If my kid ever tried half the shit we did, they would be grounded well past the age of eighteen."

"I don't think anyone else would try petting a sleeping black bear."

"In my defense, I thought it was dead."

"City boy." Jack tilts his head back. In his voice, it's an endearment, not an insult. "I don't know who had been more scared, you, or the bear."

"I'm betting on me. And don't change the subject. He will know."

"So what do I tell him?" Jack tenses, and the action is enough to put the distance between them, but Gabriel refuses to let go of him. "That I got piss drunk and probably almost killed myself? Not that he's going to..."

"He's going to care. He cares."

"So what do I tell him?"

"You got drunk. You got hurt. That's all." Gabriel shrugs and puts his chin on Jack's shoulder. "What's important, he hears it from you, not from someone else. You think John wouldn't try to exploit that?"

"You know," Jack starts after a longer pause, "every time you talk about this stuff, I'm... why don't you have kids? Your own. You'd make a great dad."

"That's... The closest I got, she threw the ring at me, I told you." Gabriel chuckles.

"I thought you were joking."

"I'm over it, anyway." Something he might've realized just now. He takes a deep breath. "Listen, I've been thinking, when I get the estate in order..."

"You're going back to your normal life. I know."

"That too. But I've been thinking, and, come with me. You and Angel."

The silence stretches. Jack turns the cup around in his fingers without a word, almost contemplative, and Gabriel knows he had said something wrong.

"Just until you get your feet on the ground, no strings attached. Away from this fucking town."

"No strings attached, huh?"

He finds himself almost scrambling for some kind of explanation or reassurance, and coming up empty. Instead, with a weary sigh, he pulls up the other hand and brushes his fingers against the blond hair.

"I don't... I can't expect anything."

Jack stops fumbling with the cup but still remains silent.

"Just... just think it over. This place is no good for you, and it's not going to be better for him."

"It's my home," Jack finally answers, setting the cup aside.

"Bullshit. You don't believe it yourself."

"Okay. I'll think it over." There's a touch of irritation to his voice, and Gabriel is not going to push more, not right now. It's still uplifting, at the least because of the change from the earlier despondent mood. Angry is better.

"Good. Feeling up for a walk?"

"A walk?" Jack asks back, incredulous, still sharp.

"To bring around your car." If the old pier is the place he goes to drink, than Gabriel is not letting him go there alone even more than he would otherwise.

"Fine. Hope you don't mind getting your pants wet."

"I was thinking of cutting it short through the woods."

"It's been windy for the last week."

True. He had forgotten about the way the wind pushes the waves over the natural barricades, and the water in some places trickles into ditches and gullies carved by the spring's runoff. Or the often almost hidden under the forest detritus waterholes where the water seeps through the soil, or where the rain collects with no proper drainage. It all made for a dangerous combination any time of the year on its own and many local stories about missing kids. Gabriel had himself came home more than once smeared completely with muck stinking of decomposing plants and, sometimes, something much worse. Even now, he could very well believe there were some pits real skeletons dressed in remnants of fabrics lied sunken at the bottom.

"Not looking forward to that but I'll survive."

"Fine." Jack leans forward and disentangles himself from the blanket. Gabriel is loath to loosen his hold on him, and immediately misses the warmth and the smell. "Don't say later I didn't warn you," he adds, still snappy, standing.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Gabriel gets up. "Need anything? Jacket, anything else?"

"I'm good." Jack doesn't wait for him, stepping outside almost immediately - though, outside is a generous term with how the containers are set up and open to the brisk air coming from the lake.

He gestures something supposedly meaning they're going to be back to a lone person sitting by the table with the kettle, and hurries towards the treeline.

Gabriel follows with palms buried deep into the pockets of his jacket, silent, focused on the path before him. The grassland attached to the beach ends suddenly as if someone just cut away the edges and dumped a completely another world with no blending in-between. Two things become painfully obvious to Gabriel, the first being that even looking at Jack right now makes him feel the cold.  The mostly uncovered ankles flashing under the hem of his pant legs look outrageous and fascinating at the same time - which is the other thing - because watching Jack's feet as they find their way through the undergrowth is as magical as he remembers it to be. There's no hesitation, no second-guessing, just another step: shorter, longer, to the side and back, with the ever-changing rhythm, and those slim ankles bending one way or another. Compared to this he feels graceless, dragging now a piece of a stick caught on the shoelace.

"How do they intend to last through the winter?"

Jack slows down for a moment and turns a bit to look back at him.

"They're having some prefab cabins delivered. Tried to get them built but no-one would commit to it."

"Can't be cheap."

"It isn't. Hanzo's paying for everything."

"What's his deal, anyway?" The man is so out of place in his surroundings it's jarring, and Gabriel had learned to trust his instincts when judging the potential danger. It's strange to hear Jack chuckle at his question.

"You wouldn't believe it. He's a real-life yakuza."

Sounds as far-fetched as it can be. Still...

"Money laundering?"

"I don't think so. I don't know the details, but his brother died in a car crash," Jack shrugs and turns around, walking backwards for a few steps, "and he'd been the one behind the wheel."

"So he's throwing money at something that's basically a religious sect, as atonement?"

"One way of looking at it, I guess, but it's a good place." Jack climbs a rotten log, jumping off it lightly immediately after. "The deed's in his name, too."

"So what bit John he's so interested in the land, any particular reason?" Gabriel walks around the log, not trusting himself to not slip on it - and not trusting it to not crumble under him.

"Honestly, I don't know. Francis liked that beach, it's as good reason as any other."

Francis. Another subject only skirted around at best. It's hard to imagine Francis and Jack having relationship that bad, and Gabriel decides to bite the bullet.

"How's he, anyway? Francis, I mean," he continues at the lack of the response.

"Overdose. Almost six years ago."

"Shit, I'm..." He's starting to apologize but Jack stops in place and turns, raising his palm.

"Don't. That's on me. You didn't know. John killed him, but I also did." Gabriel hears the resentment building up in his voice and steps closer.

"If it was..."

"Stop. Just stop."

"Jack."

"No," Jack cuts him off right away. "I told you my case got thrown out because John had money and influence? Well, he also had drugs, and Francis had been clean for half a year then, and he tried to help. He showed up to the hearing completely fucked up."

Whatever this one's going to be, Gabriel understands it can be only ridden out, with how contradictory emotions seem to clash in Jack's voice.

"I don't mean, just fucked up. Almost comatose. He tried to reach out but I was so, so angry. Told him to get shafted every time."

"And he stopped trying, and I didn't care at all. And then..." Gabriel closes the negligible distance between them and puts his arms around Jack's frame - feeling him tensing for a fraction of a second before almost falling into him with his forehead pressed into his shoulder. He doesn't even think there is anything he could say, and even if there is, he probably shouldn't because it wouldn't change the past despite the fact he would very much want it to do so. Another question, was there anyone Jack could ever talk to? Gabriel starts to doubt. He had Teresa and shrinks, and time to make peace with the reality certain things were never going away, but with how there was - is - this raw and untempered emotional quality in Jack surrounding some subjects that the mention of something adjacent opens the floodgates? It makes him afraid as he listens to the still heaving but slowing breaths next to his ear. Afraid because it's only happening as he's here, and when he leaves there won't be a person Jack would trust enough. He's only that - safe, here for a moment, and then gone.

"And the worst..." The mumble at first is barely recognizable and Gabriel tilts his head a bit to hear better. "The worst thing is that's the only way Angel's going to remember him. Not as someone who tried. A fucking junkie. Was a fucking rude wake up call."

Jack moves back with a muttered apology, again unexpectedly guarded, and the ceased physical contact is a new wall, at least for now. He wants to ask about the meaning of the last sentence but the message is clear, it's been more than Jack had intended to say. There's something there, something that's setting his alarms off, and he's too tired to count how many times today already. The day's a fucking rollercoaster, Gabriel decides following Jack. They're not talking anymore for the next stretch of the road. No matter his conscious decision, his thoughts keep wandering back with obsessive insistence, refusing to let go of the hidden message. Running circles around the subject until he can't remain silent.

"What did you mean by rude awakening?"

"It's nothing, don't..."

Gabriel notices Jack had stopped in his tracks only when he walks into his outstretched hand, and pauses looking for the reason, probably some animal - until his eyes follow down below them where in the dip in the forest floor is one of the waterholes, visibly disturbed. She lies there, half-submerged, smeared with the streaks of mud, and with fallen leaves stuck to her clothes. Her blouse, partially torn open, shows a bit of the white bra. Bruises in the shape of clenched hands starkly color her neck.

Not she. A body. It's easier this way.

"Shit." Gabriel reaches for his phone to check the coverage but almost drops it when he hears Jack, the words turning his blood to ice.

"I knew her. She's the fourth one.

[moldisgoodforyou]

give a little: chapter five (college!jj maybank x oc)

MASTERLIST

pairing: jj maybank x oc

synopsis: charlie and jj finally go on a date. a fight ensues. 

warnings: violence, fighting, drinking, swearing, explicit mentions of sex, all characters are 21+

wordcount: 2.9k

_______________________________________________________________________

JJ came back to the Chateau that night with an ear-splitting grin, practically beaming. The other Pogues were all lounging around the living room, Sarah included. 

Immediately, John B was suspicious. “What did you steal?” He asked, looking over his friend for a sign of something hidden in his pockets. 

JJ laughed and showed John B his empty hands. “Nothing, bro. Just in a good mood, I guess.” 

Pope was kicked back on the couch, his feet on the coffee table. “Ten bucks you went back for more ice cream.” 

Kiara wrinkled her nose. “Is ice cream a dirty metaphor now? He wasn’t with her, he was at work. Right JJ?” 

Sarah turned to them, confused. “How is ice cream a dirty metaphor?” 

JJ put his hands up and went to the kitchen to grab a beer. “Hey, hey! Stop the interrogation! No, Kie, ice cream is not a dirty metaphor. Mind out of the gutter, woman.” 

Pope furrowed his brow. “So you did get ice cream.” 

JJ just grinned as he took a sip of the beer. 

Pope turned to Kiara, who was already grumbling. “Ha! Ten bucks, hand it over.” 

She fished a bill out of her pocket, scowling, and slapped it into Pope’s hand. “How did it go?”  

Sarah looked back and forth between Pope and Kiara and JJ. “I’m lost, someone catch me up.” 

John B looped his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders. “JJ has a fat crush on Charlotte Walker - god, Charlie, she’s not even here dude -” he corrected himself at JJ’s glare, “- and he made a fool of himself at the ice cream place she works at but she’s clearly not into him.” 

Pope shook his head. “You’re missing half the story, you didn’t see her drunk and hanging all over JJ at the party.” He put on a high-pitched voice as an impression. “Can I stay the night, JJ?” He dropped the voice, pointing at JJ. “And this fool thinks she asked him to be her boyfriend.” 

JJ put the drink down, giving John B and Pope a dirty look through the whole retelling. “First of all, I’m right here, quit talking about me like I’m not. She did! I guess we’re dating now. Second of all, she’s hot, but I don’t have a ‘fat crush’ on her. She’s just cool.” 

Kiara crossed her arms, doubting the story. “So you did hang out today?” 

JJ nodded, drinking his beer. “Yeah, we had to establish the rules -” his eyes widened at his slip and he cut himself off with another swallow of beer. 

Kiara and Sarah both jumped on that immediately. “What rules, JJ?” Sarah asked skeptically. 

JJ glanced around, as if checking to make sure no one else heard, and sighed. “Fine. She wants me to pretend to be her boyfriend, just for the summer, so she can get back at Rafe for cheating on her and piss him off.” 

Sarah frowned as John B and Pope began cracking up. “He cheated on her? I didn’t know that,” she said softly. 

JJ nodded in confirmation and threw his bottle cap at Pope. “Shut up! I’m just helping her out!” 

John B rolled his eyes. “You’re doomed, bro.” 

JJ glared. “But you guys can’t tell a single soul. I mean it. I already broke the first damn rule by telling you, but you guys would have figured it out soon enough anyway.” 

Kiara raised her hands in confusion. “How is that even going to work?”

JJ shrugged. “We go on dates in public, make out at parties? Easy.” 

Pope nodded. “Uh huh. Sounds like all risk, no reward.” 

JJ smirked. “Oh there’s reward, all right.” 

All the Pogues groaned at that, Sarah throwing her pillow at JJ. John B and JJ argued back and forth for a bit until JJ saw Pope and Kiara shaking hands out of the corner of his eye. “Hey! What are you betting on?” 

Pope grinned sheepishly. “I bet Kie $20 that you two will be dating for real by the end of the summer.” 

Kiara shook her head. “Hell no. I know Charlie, she’s stubborn as hell.” 

John B cocked his head. “By the end of summer? I give it a month.” 

Sarah laughed and elbowed her boyfriend. “Just be smart about it, JJ? This just sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.” 

Since she started dating John B back in high school, she had grown to be close like a sister to JJ. Although they were talking about her brother’s ex, she had seen the way he treated girls over the years and figured he deserved what was coming. 

JJ nodded. “It’ll be fine, Cameron. I’ve got it handled.” 

_______________________________________________________________________

Charlie texted him later in the week, early in the morning. 

Charlie: want to get dinner tonight? 

JJ: Sure is the wreck fine? 

Charlie: I was thinking the country club? on me 

JJ: are you asking me on a date, Walker? 

Charlie: I guess I am

JJ: Do I have to wear a suit

Charlie: no, no, just like a polo. I can pick you up from your place with john b? at 6? 

JJ: See you then

After the short text exchange, JJ frantically started going through his closet. “John B!” He called out, coming up empty-handed. 

While he had gotten a few solid scholarships (one thanks to an essay carefully ‘edited’ - one might say plagiarized - from Pope) and made his way through college with a handful of part-time jobs to keep up financially, he never adapted his style to the typical frat boy attire, hating how Kook-like it was. Lucky for him, John B was a Sigma Nu at UNC and Sarah had molded her boyfriend’s style to fit a little bit more of her taste. (The bandanas stayed.) 

“What?” He called back, walking into JJ’s room. “Dude, it looks like there was a hurricane in here.” 

JJ tossed another rejected shirt onto his bed. “I need clothes, dude. I’m going on a date at the fuckin’ country club.” 

John B laughed. “You’re in deep, JJ. Is this with Charlie?” 

JJ nodded. “Yeah, and I’m sure we’ll see Rafe there, so I gotta look good. For her. You know.” 

John B shrugged. “Sure. Come on.” 

_______________________________________________________________________

Meanwhile, Charlie was completely unbothered at work, having sent off the text without a second thought. She told herself it was just a test, to see if this whole fake boyfriend thing would really work. But throughout the day, she couldn’t get her mind off the blond boy hovering over her, his necklace dangling over her chest, his hips getting closer...she shook her head to clear her thoughts as more customers entered the shop. By the end of her shift, only a half hour before she needed to pick JJ up, she had worked herself into a ball of nerves and could hardly concentrate. 

She raced home, only ten miles over the speed limit, sprinted into the shower, and after hurriedly applying a tinted lip balm, mascara and eyeliner, she looked at her appearance in the mirror, wet hair and all, and frowned. She would have to drive with the windows down and hope that was enough to make her hair acceptably dry. Charlie pulled on a sundress and checked her watch, cursing as she realized she was already late. 

JJ sat on the steps on the Chateau, anxiously bouncing his knee as he waited for Charlie. He checked his watch for the fourth time in ten minutes, then messed with his hair. 

John B slapped at his hand, having tried to tame it for JJ. “Quit, you’re gonna screw it up! It’s fine, she’s coming.” 

“I look like a fucking Kook,” JJ groaned, tugging at the collar of his polo. “And she’s late.” The sound of a car sounded in the distance, and JJ practically jumped up seeing her car round the corner. 

John B clapped his friend on the shoulder. “You look good. You’ll be fine, JJ, it’s just a date.” He left him on the porch, then went inside to watch the interaction through the blinds in the living room. 

Charlie smoothed out her dress and checked herself quickly in the car mirror, then got out and walked down the drive to meet JJ. “Hey, Maybank,” She smiled. “I’m so sorry I’m late, I mistimed work and then had to rush to get ready.” 

He wiped his palms on his shorts and smiled back. “It’s okay, I wasn’t waiting around.” He went in to hug her as she went in for a kiss on the cheek and she bumped her nose awkwardly into his shoulder. “Oh - uh, okay, ready to go?” 

She blushed in embarrassment and John B, sitting in the living room, slapped his palm to his forehead. 

JJ laughed softly and nodded, walking out to the car with her. “I like your makeup like this. It didn’t really seem like you at the party.” 

She shook her head and smiled, starting up the car. “That was the work of Grace and her eyeliner skills, I can hardly do it on my own.” 

JJ tugged at his collar again. “Got it. Um, so your family, they’re members at the country club?” 

“Well..not exactly. My grandparents are, so we have passes once a month if we want to eat or golf or whatever.” 

He laughed. “So you’re like, half-Kook. Why do you work so often?” 

Charlie shrugged. “I guess you could say that? I’m on scholarship at SC, but I needed a way to pay for Kappa. I get paid like a normal employee at the shop so I can stay in the sorority.” She paused. “My grandparents on my mom’s side aren’t doing the best, so. Most of the money goes there.” 

JJ frowned slightly, putting his hand on top of hers on the gear. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” 

She shook her head quickly and pulled up to the club. “It’s fine. You look really good, by the way, I didn’t tell you that.” 

JJ beamed and walked around to get her car door, offering his hand. 

“Wait.” Charlie surveyed his appearance first, then unbuttoned the top two buttons of his polo. She smiled and took his hand. “Much better. Hungry?” 

He laughed as his stomach growled. “Starving.” 

The two had a fairly uneventful dinner, save for Charlie spilling her half her glass of white wine all down the front of her dress with a well-timed joke from JJ and an extreme lack of hand-eye coordination on her part. He only laughed harder at this, offering her his napkin and teasing her about her flushed cheeks. 

After she settled the check, ignoring arguments from JJ (and swatting away his hand when he pulled out his wallet), the two walked around the pathway by the golf course. Charlie took his hand, swinging it between the two of them. “Thank you for coming. It’s fun, hanging out with you.” 

JJ smiled, bringing their intertwined hands up and kissing the back of hers. “Of course. But - not that I mind - but how exactly is this going to get back to Rafe? For your master plan, and all?” 

She tilted her head toward the course, lowering her voice slightly. “Because he golfs on this course every Tuesday and Thursday with Topper and Kelce at 6:30.” Just on time, the three boys came into view to golf the next hole. 

“Ah. Right. And dinner?” JJ questioned. 

Charlie grinned. “You’re the one that said we needed to work on our chemistry, Maybank.” 

He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re trouble, Charlie Walker.” 

Charlie smiled and reached up on her toes, kissing his cheek. “Who, me? Never.”  

After going first in the round, Rafe jogged over to Charlie on the sidewalk. “What are you doing here, Charlotte?” 

JJ moved his arm protectively to wrap around her shoulders. 

Charlie nodded at JJ. “We’re on a date.” 

Rafe scoffed. “You? With him?” He jabbed his thumb toward JJ. 

Charlie frowned and stepped slightly in front of JJ, her body pressed against his. “Don’t act so surprised, Rafe.” 

Rafe rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You want to waste your time with trash, go ahead.” 

At that JJ moved quickly to react, but Charlie turned and put her hand on his chest, looking up at him with pleading eyes. 

“Don’t, JJ,” she murmured, before turning back to Rafe. “Fuck off, Rafe, don’t talk like that.” 

Rafe sneered. “You know, Maybank, that’s not the only dirty thing she does with her mouth.” 

With that, JJ jumped forward, grabbing a fistful of Rafe’s shirt. “Don’t you ever - ever - talk like that again about her. I know what you did, asshole.” He told him through gritted teeth. 

Charlie quickly came up and wedged herself in between the two of them, facing Rafe, gently pushing JJ back. “JJ. Let’s go.” 

Reluctantly, JJ let go of his shirt and stepped back - just as Rafe spit, directly onto Charlie’s face, though it was intended for JJ. 

Without missing a beat, Charlie raised her fist and slammed it into Rafe’s face, so hard they could hear the crack of her hand connecting with his cheek. Her ring left an imprint and made a small slice under his eye.

“Fuck you.” She choked out, then stepped back and grabbed JJ’s hand as he stared at her in awe. 

Rafe went down to his knees, pressing his hand to his cheek. “Fucking bitch,” he groaned out.

At the sound of sirens over the golf course loudspeaker, Charlie cursed under her breath. “Shit. We gotta go,” she said quickly, then started running. 

JJ ran with her all the way back to the car, letting out a whoop along the way. She fumbled with the keys back at the car and JJ grabbed them from her, getting in the driver’s seat. “Just get in, Charlie!” He yelled, high off the adrenaline from the almost-fight. 

Charlie barely made it into the passenger side before JJ threw the car in reverse and the tires squealed as they tore out of the parking lot, back toward the Chateau. 

“Holy shit, are you okay? I’m gonna kill him.” JJ shook his head, glancing over and rubbing his thumb over her cheek. 

Charlie let her head fall back into the headrest and cradled her fist in her other hand, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’ve never done that before.” 

He let out a short laugh. “It didn’t seem like it. I didn’t know you had that in you.” 

She mustered a small smile as JJ pulled up to the Chateau and parked. “This fucking hurts,” she whined. 

He frowned, taking her hand and inspecting it. “You gotta punch with your thumb out, you might have broken it. We gotta teach you how to fight, baby.” 

Charlie groaned, a few tears running down her cheeks. “I’m gonna be in so much fucking trouble with my grandparents.” 

JJ winced. “Maybe. Let’s deal with this hand first, pretty girl.” 

They both got out of the car. JJ held her face in his hands, wiping away her tears gently with his thumbs and gave her a small kiss on the forehead before bringing her into the Chateau. All the Pogues sat around, discussing how JJ’s date probably went - and they all fell silent once they saw the two. 

Except Pope, who was facing away from the door and didn’t hear them walk in. “He’s obsessed with her, there’s no way -” he yelped as Kiara stepped on his foot to shut him up. 

“Oh, uh, hey guys! Wait what’s wrong?” Pope asked. 

Kiara noticed Charlie holding her fist and went to grab a bag of frozen peas for her without JJ even asking. 

JJ cleared space on the couch for the two of them and sat them down, taking the peas from Kiara and wrapping it around Charlie’s hand. “This one here decided to channel Floyd Mayweather on the date,” he teased. 

John B looked at the two of them, confused. “What happened, Charlie, are you okay?” 

Charlie let out a sheepish laugh. “I, um, hit Rafe.” 

JJ shook his head, grinning proudly. “Punched Rafe,” he corrected. 

Kiara’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit.” 

Charlie gasped as she tried to flex her fingers, tears welling up again. 

JJ took her hand gently and moved it to his lap, holding the ice on it for her. “Keep it still, Charlie, you’re gonna hurt yourself more,” he admonished gently. 

The other three Pogues exchanged not-so-subtle glances at JJ’s gentle nature. Charlie closed her eyes and gritted her teeth in pain, leaning her head into JJ’s shoulder. 

Pope broke the silence, blurting out. “So are you two a thing?” 

John B sighed as Kiara put her fingers to her temples, rubbing them. “Real subtle, Pope,” John B said. 

Charlie laughed softly, lifting her head. “I mean. We’ve been hanging out.” 

JJ’s face fell slightly and he shrugged, trying to brush it off. “No need to put labels on everything, Pope. Charlie, let’s go to my room, I think I have something that can help you more than the ice.” 

Charlie nodded and got up, following him out of the room. 

The second they heard JJ’s door click shut, John B and Kiara threw their pillows at Pope. “What the hell, Pope, we’re not supposed to know!” Kiara whispered. 

Pope raised his hands in defense. “I thought I would help move things along! It’s been two weeks already!” 

John B groaned, shaking his head. “This is why you’re a terrible wingman, Pope.” 

TAGLIST: @jiaraendgame​ @hmsjiara​ @booksandshish​

[chickensarentcheap]

Fic Writer Tag Game

How many works do you have on AO3? 4

What’s your total AO3 word count? 1, 853, 500

How many fandoms have you written for, and what are they? Just one.  Extraction.  But I used to write other fandoms a long time ago on ff.net.  For the CSI franchise. 

I Found : Tyler Rake x OFC  - Broken and bleeding. Weathered and in tatters. Two damaged and weary souls find one another when they least expect it. Wrong place, wrong time. Yet both powerless to stop it. Kudos: 41

Sanctuary: Tyler Rake x OFC: Five years after nearly losing his life in Dhaka, Tyler has a second chance at life. A marriage. Children. A change of scenery. But old habits are hard to break.(This is a sequel/companion piece of "I Found" but could be read alone). Kudos: 17

Best Part of Me: Tyler Rake x OFC: Six months after leaving Colorado and returning to Australia, Tyler has to learn how to cope in a normal world, away from the pace of the 'job'. And he's learning not all battles are fought on foreign soil. Can he ignore the monsters and the demons of his past? Kudos: 110

Never Gonna Be Alone: Tyler Rake x OFC: A lot changes in five years. Now a family of nine, the Rakes are splitting their time between Australia and New York City. With Dhaka nothing but a distant yet still painful memory and the dirty work mostly behind him, Tyler is healthy and thriving. Not only as a husband and father, but as the acting founder and boss of his own mercenary business and co-owner of his wife's well loved and flourishing bookstore. But while love and domestic happiness abound, the past and its secrets are never far behind. Kudos: 44

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I do if it’s people I I don’t regularly converse with here on tumblr.  I talked with them about the chapter and they know how I much appreciate them taking the time.  Ones I don’t hear from often or new commenters, I respond to.  Honestly, comments keep me going.  I’ve thought about quitting many times. About a dozen today alone lol 

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?  Sanctuary

Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written? No.  But IF I do a fifth one, I’m bringing John Wick into it. lol

Have you ever received hate on a fic?:  It all started with this fourth one.  And people copying my shit (wattpad is a cess pool) and then OC hate (just stupid shit, like she isn’t good looking enough,  she’s mean to Tyler LMAO.  Just kill her off already.)  And then the haters went after my kid with special needs. So needless to say, yes. Yes I have received hate. 

Do you write smut? If so what kind? Yes. I do.  The couple is in an established long term relationship with kids and they get busy a lot. Everything from soft and loving to just hard core, ‘I hate you’ sex.  LOL

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Yes. I have.  I’ve had entire fics taken, paragraphs, plot outline (like how the characters started off in a relationship), whole chunks of dialogue taken word for word.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes.  But for CSI: NY. I believe it was Russian, French, and German.  Maybe Spanish too, but I can’t remember.

What’s your all-time favourite ship? Well, I only write the one, so for me it’s Tyler Rake/Esme Rake.  But for other writers, it’s hard to name! I love all their ships, to be quite honest.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will?

To be honest, I’ll be shocked if I finish the fourth one. Lack of motivation at the moment, the hate, not receiving feedback.  It drags you down. 

What are your writing strengths? What are your writing weaknesses?  I like to think character depth and relationships, and maybe even dialogue. IDK. You’d have to ask my readers.  My weaknesses? Well to me, everything. 

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?  When I’ve used Bengali or Hindi, I have friends who speak them who help me write it properly lol

What was the first fandom you’ve written for? Well,  that I’ve put out there? CSI: NY.   But as a kid I used to write stuff based on shows and bands I liked.

What’s your favourite fic that you’ve written?

Definitely Sanctuary. My second in the series. 

Honestly, I’m shocked at how popular the first fic has become. To me it is so rough and ugly LOL

Tagging: anyone who wants to play!!!

[angelliev]

Lover Boy - JJ Maybank x OC - Part Ten - He Needs to Know

Word Count: 3.1K

Summary: Rafe Cameron has made a shocking confession to Aria, who stings him with her venomous words, and now she must suffer from the consequences. Meanwhile, JJ shows Aria just who she belongs to.

Warnings: Smut, cursing, fighting, Rafe being Rafe, and I guess public sex?

A/N: Oh my god, I need myself some JJ. Writing this made me weak in the knees.🤤 Hope you guys enjoy and thank you for your support with the following, liking and especially the reblogging. (Not my GIF. Credits to the owner. I don’t own the show or the characters.)

Lover Boy Series Masterlist

The pogues. They are by far better than the kids at kook academy. I let the days pass by as I continue to go on many of their adventures and be with JJ. I feel like I’m on top of the world. I have these amazing friends and loving boyfriend. We’re all excited for Spring break that’ll be coming up in a couple of weeks. None of us know what we want to do yet, but I’m pretty sure we’ll have fun no matter what. Tonight, we’re planning on going to the outdoor movie the county is hosting. I’m waiting for the takeout to finish cooking, as of now. The pogues had all decided on having Chinese food during the movie. That’s when he walked in…

“Takeout for Rafe Cameron.” His voice echoed in my ears. I couldn’t even look at him without anger and hot steam spewing out of my ears. I try to hide myself behind a nearby magazine, not wanting to start an awkward conversation with him.

“Aria?” Satan fuck me in the ass. Why? I huff. “Hello, Rafe.” I mutter. “It’s been a while. How have you been?” He asked taking a seat next to me, much to my dismay. “What do you want Rafe?” I asked not wanting to beat around the bush. “I’ve been meaning to ask how Jennifer is doing.” This bitch.

“Like you care.” I muttered angrily. “Excuse me?” He asked slightly astonished. “I know what you did to her, so don’t act like you still care about her. You abused her and cheated on her with her best friend. She’s been gone for months, and now you want to ask me about her?” I look at him with pure hatred.

“What I did was wrong. It was mistake. I should’ve been a better boyfriend to her. I’m apologizing now. Doesn’t that count?” He slung his arm on the back of my chair, making me grimace. “If you’re only talking to me just to redeem yourself, you came to the wrong person.” I scoffed. “That’s not why I’m talking to you.” He denied. “Then why are you talking to me Rafe? What is so important you have to bother me?” I tap my feet anxiously, hoping the order would be ready soon.

“There’s something I wanted to get off my chest. I did like Jennifer at one point. I really did, but there was just something missing in our relationship, so I looked for that missing thing elsewhere. It then occurred to me that, perhaps I dated the wrong girl, and she was right in front of me all these years.” I can’t believe he has the nerve to be talking about Samantha being the right girl for him. I just roll my eyes and take a sip of my delicious mango coconut Boba tea. Hehe

“It’s always been you Aria.” Dafuq? Before I knew it, I’m choking on my Boba once again. Tapioca pearls in the back of my throat, tea shooting out through my nose, tears in my eyes, the whole nine yards. I gain concerned looks from nearby customers, employees, and Rafe. I grab some tissues from the box before spitting the tapioca pearls into the tissue. I decided to spare the people of having to see me launch tapioca pearls across the room. Why does this shit always happen to me?

“She’s fine. Just choked on her drink. Go back to enjoying your meal everyone.” Rafe smiles as he waves off the peering eyes. “Here you go miss.” The kind woman hands me the bags of food. “Thank you.” I quickly take the food before speed walking out of the restaurant, towards Sarah’s car, both embarrassed and confused. Kie and Sarah looks at me bewildered as I place the food in the passenger’s seat. “Aria! Wait! Talk to me!” He yells. “I have nothing to say to you!” “Will you just stop and listen to me?” He grabs my arm.

I don’t know what came over me when I smacked his hand away. I can hear the girls gasp in the car. “What the hell is wrong with you? You think that just because my sister is gone you can try to make a move on me? Did you really think I’d go out with you? After everything you’ve done to her? You put my sister through hell. Well news flash, I will never love you. And for your information, I’m already taken by someone who loves me more than you ever would.” I spit. I almost felt guilty when I saw the pain in his eyes and heartbreak, but then I remembered how he made Jennifer feel that way every day. It’s time he had a taste of his own medicine.

I slam the car door shut. Sarah shifts between gears, Rafe’s fists slam down on my window. “You’ll fucking regret this slut!” His voice can be heard as we speed off. “What happened in there?” Kie asked astonished. I kind of remain silent for a minute, while the two girls wait for an answer. “Rafe said that dating my sister was a mistake, that he should’ve been dating me all this time. That it’s always been me.” I mutter angrily. Their eyes nearly pop out of their sockets as they process what I just said. “I’m sorry on the behalf of my jackass brother.” Sarah apologizes still fazed.

“It’s fine. I’m not going to let him ruin our evening. Let’s just forget about it.” I continue to look out the window, embarrassed by the whole situation. I still can’t believe he had the nerve to say that, after everything he has done to my sister. I can’t even imagine myself with Rafe. I’d rather take a knife to my stomach, than to choose him over JJ. Do I even tell JJ? He’d go crazy. Probably do something stupid, yet I’d hate to lie to him.

We arrive at the park where they’re about to start the movie. I see the boys set up our stuff near a tree, a little ways from the crowd. I see JJ smile when he sees my presence. I couldn’t help but return it. He approaches ready to say something, but I don’t give the chance when I place my lips on his in a sweet kiss. This seemed to take him by surprise, but that didn’t stop him from returning the kiss.

“Get a room!” John B yelled before tossing a fortune cookie at us. I swear John B is the ultimate cockblocker. JJ pulls back, his cheeks dusted slightly pink. “What was that for?” He asked with a cheeky smile. “I just love you.” I play with the ends of his hair. “Awe, I love you too babe.” He pecks my lips. “Everything okay?” He asked concerned. “Yeah, just Rafe being Rafe.” I roll my eyes. “What the hell did he do to you? I swear to god I’m gonna,” I shut him up with another kiss, after seeing the fire rage in his eyes. “Easy tiger. He just said something stupid and meaningless.”

“What did he say?” His eyes are desperate for an answer. I sigh. “He said he should’ve been dating me instead of my sister this whole time.” JJ’s jaw clenched at the words. “I rejected him, which seemed to really piss him off.” I roll my eyes. “Good. Let him be.” His lips find mine in a more possessive kiss. “Alright lover boy. C’mon the movie’s starting.” I lead him to our blanket against the tree. There he wraps me up in his arms, where I relax as the movie plays.

The movie goes on, still holding everyone’s attention, well except JJ’s. He grows bored by the movie. He begins to trail his lips down my neck seductively, making me giggle, when he starts nibbling on my ticklish spot. “What are you up to?” I asked, trying to concentrate on the movie. “Babygirl I’m cold.” He smiles mischievously against my skin. His hands makes his way under the blanket. “Thought you might warm me up.” His hot breath against my ear makes the warmth in my southern region grow. He unbuttons my jeans, before his hand cups my cloth covered crotch, making me whimper.

“Shh, we don’t want any peering eyes, unless you want to give everyone a show. I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you dirty girl?” It took everything in me not moan right there for everyone to hear. The whole idea of us being caught at any moment only seemed to turn me on even more. His long fingers easily slip through my warm velvet silky folds. I can feel the coolness of his rings brush against my walls, definitely glistening as he thrusts them in and out of me. Tears pool in my eyes at the immense pleasure I began to experience when he curled his fingers, never failing to brush against my g-spot. “God, you look so sweet with that flushed face, glossy eyes and wet lips. Those pretty lips of yours would look amazing around my cock.” I bite my lip, suppressing a moan.

“I bet Rafe can’t make you feel this good. He wishes he could fuck you like me. He wishes he can be in my place. Maybe I should invite him over one day. That way he can watch as I fuck you hard into the bed. That way he can see the way your pussy grips onto my dick perfectly. I want him to hear you moaning and screaming my name to the top of your lungs. I want him to know your mine when he sees my cum gushing out of you. And I won’t even give him the chance to touch or fuck you the way I do.” I felt the familiar coil in my stomach begin to form. “He needs to know that I’m the one who popped your cherry. He needs to know that your flower only opens up for me. He needs to know that I was your first everything. That I was the first one to kiss your luscious lips, the first one to make love to you, the first one you’ve fallen in love with. He’ll hate the idea knowing that whenever someone asks you about one of your first experiences, you’ll always be thinking of me first. It would kill him to know that you’ll never forget me. That I’m always on your mind. That I’m always in your body. That I’m always a part of your soul. And most importantly, he needs to know that I love you with a burning passion.” His words melt my heart. “That’s right babygirl. Cum for me.” He says in a hushed tone, before placing his hand on my mouth. My eyes roll to the back of my head and I bite my tongue as sinful whimpers escaped pass my lips.

His fingers and rings glisten in the moonlight. He forces my lips to open, before inserting his fingers into my mouth for me to taste myself. He uses him other hand to pull down his pants and boxers, his member springs out poking me. Before I have time to say anything, he sinks myself down on his throbbing erection. I was expecting him to move, but instead he just sat there content with the blissful warm state we were in. “What are you doing?” I asked confused as to why he’s not erratically thrusting into me like usual. “I told you I was cold. Thought you could keep me warm.” He smirks before laying one last kiss on my shoulder, before turning his attention back onto the movie, as if nothing had happened. My body wanted more. “Let’s get out of here.” I suggest. “But we’ll miss the movie.” He says innocently. “Please, I want you.” I plead, earning a smirk from him.

Moments later we’re in the back of John B’s van in the empty parking lot. Kissing ferociously as he pounds into me, bodies rocking together like waves. The van moves with us and our hot breaths fog the windows. Our lustrous moans, skin slapping and sweet whispers are the only things that can be heard.

Lurking in the darkness, were peering eyes full of rage watching their every move. Rafe Cameron had heard everything. A dagger went through his heart with every word that left JJ’s mouth, knowing that everything he had said was true. The angry young adult marched his way back to the Jeep, slamming the door shut on his way in. “Damn, who knew that Aria Prescott had a thing for the notorious pogue king?” Topper commented. “Aria Prescott the pogue slut. Girls like her will open her legs for any dirty pogue. Especially JJ Maybank.” Said Kelce. Rafe was shaking out of anger. “Let’s go Topper. We have a couple more stops to make.” Rafe says sinisterly.

Later…

The cool night air breezes past our bodies, as I sit comfortably on the back of JJ’s motorcycle, my arms wrapped around his body. I’ll never grow tired of these bike rides. He stops by my house, out of sight. I reluctantly get off the bike, before removing the helmet. My hands gently grab a hold of his face as I pull him in for a passionate loving kiss, which he gladly returns, pulling flush against his body. “Goodnight JJ. I love you.” I say after pulling away. “I love you too.” He pecks my cheek. “Sweet dreams babygirl.” He never fails to make me blush. “Drive home safe lover boy.” I blow him a kiss, and he shoots me a wink. He stays there until I reach my doorstep, before driving into the night.

I close the door behind me. I couldn’t find a way to wipe the smile of my blushing face. I was caught in a daydream as I walked towards my room. I hadn’t even noticed my father’s office door was open. “We need to talk.” His voice pulled me out of my dreamy state, startling me. “Sit down.” His tone is serious. I nervously pull out the chair before taking a seat. My father’s serious eyes never left me. His burning gaze begins to intimidate me. “I don’t know what has happened to you Aria. You were always such a good girl. You never disappointed me. You were pure, obedient and respectful. The outer banks have tainted you. Ever since we moved here, I wondered what could have caused you to act out in such rebellious behavior. Now I finally have my answer.” He takes a sip of drink.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, voice laced in fear. He doesn’t answer. He opens his drawer pulling out a yellow envelope before tossing it to me. My shaky hands reach into the envelope, grasping its contents. I pull out a note that says, “Thought you should know who your daughter has been seeing lately.” I pull out the photos. My heart sinks down to my stomach when I see them. Pictures of JJ and I. Naked in the back of a van, completely exposed and connected in every possible way. Our lips crashed together. Eyes full of sinful lust and everlasting love.

I couldn’t find the strength to form any words as I stared at the pornographic photos. For a moment I forgot how to breath. “You disgust me Aria. I’m ashamed to call you my daughter.” His venomous words shoot me. “Please let me explain.” I look up at him with desperate eyes. “Oh, do please explain to me as to why you’re having sex with JJ Maybank, of all fucking people. I can’t believe you fucked someone like him. Do you think I want to see my daughter with a dirty pogue?!” “You don’t even know him!” I protest. “He’s a fucking pogue Aria! I don’t need to know him to know what he is. He’s a troublemaker. A hustler. A thief. A heartbreaker. He’s just like his father!” His words make me angry.

“He is nothing like his father! JJ is so much more than that!” I defend him. “And how would you know that?” My father challenged. “Because I love him!” I confess. My dad shakes his head. “You’re too young to love him Aria! You don’t know what love is!” “Yes I do! We taught each other how to love! You don’t know anything about our love!” “You stupid fucking girl. He’s just playing you! He doesn’t love you; he loves your money and the sex is just a bonus!”

“That’s not true! It’s so much more than sex! We laugh together, cry together, play together and so much more. We’re soulmates!” I declare. My dad scoffs. “So, what was your plan? Get married to him, let him knock you up and have his kids? Is that really the kind of future you want for yourself?” “I’d more than happy to carry his children! He’s the love of my life and I plan on being with him for all eternity!” I yell.

“Well get used to disappointment, because you are never seeing that boy again. Not as long I’m alive! You’ll be cutting him off completely and not even saying goodbye!” He demands. “Like hell I will! I’m not just going to leave him! You can’t make me!” I protest, my heart beats fast. My father grabs me by the arm before dragging me to my room. I thrash and hit with all my might. I throw myself to the floor. “For god’s sake! Stop fighting me!” He yells before throwing me into the wall of my bedroom, earning a painful groan from me. He slams the door shut. The click of the lock echoes through my ears. My fist pound on the door repeatedly as I scream. “Open this fucking door right now! You can’t do this! You can’t hold me hostage!” He ignores my screams and pounding on the door. He ignores the sobs erupting from me.

I sit there in my own pool of tears as I sat there trapped in my room. I pinch myself, hoping that this was all just a nightmare. That I’d be waking up soon, preferably in JJ’s arms. What I give to see him right now. I wish I just stayed on the back of his bike. I wish he could hold me right now and tell me everything’s okay. I wish he was here to kiss my tears away. “JJ…” I softly whisper to myself, clutching onto one of the many pictures of us. In this one, he holds me close in his big arms as he kisses me so lovingly. I let the memory cloud my mind. I let myself imagine that day, instead of remembering where I am now.

[goodluckbabe2024]

my friend i am here with the self insert oc sam parallel episode, i have a history exam tomorrow and i refuse to revise in favor of writing this. let me take you on a journey.

this is very self indulgent and spans kind of the entirety of the series (because im nosy and want to be involved in every cool plot) so im not gonna embarrass myself OR bore you but the general gist of the first episode is this:

i am an 18yr old psychic kid raised by a hunter, meeting the boys in s2 through a “my father was also murdered by a ghost of his past”, except he did not immediately assume i am the antichrist while i was an infant and raised me relatively normal, thus demonstrating that john winchester was a fucked up parent because he allowed himself to be.

i am what sam could’ve been and he is once again reminded that all he ever wanted was to be normal and loved and how that was taken away from him, unfairly. he is angry. he is jealous. he feels bad about being jealous because “her dad’s dead, what the fuck,man”. he wants me to be ok, ultimately, ofc he does, but he doesn’t understand why i got it, why he didn’t, why couldn’t john do it. this serves as more material for soul-searching bc i am a firm believer that understanding the circumstances of abuse and neglect and wrapping ur head around them helps lift the guilt we often burden ourselves with: it’s not that if sam had been a better son john would have loved him more, it’s that john refused to look at sam for what sam really was: a child wracked by generational trauma and unprocessed grief, whose autonomy was violated before he could say his first word, in need of love, and chose to instead look at sam through his own grief muddied goggles and link him to mary’s death. insane how this is turning into sam analysis isn’t it.

i am also angry because im still sort of a child but not really, not anymore, im on the cusp of adulthood and going into it knowing that the world is unfair and hateful, grief is written all over me and sam thinks oh nono, because hope’s kind of the whole point isn’t it, and i had it and now it has been taken from me along with my parent and sam feels so alone and furious with everything, he’s plagued by skull cracking demonic visions, and he doesn’t want this idealized version of himself to ultimately end up like the version of himself that he is now, the one he doesn’t understand, the one he’s afraid of. he’s looking in a weird funhouse mirror, sees a kid who was different like he was but was cherished, and sees her end up in the same position he is now: fatherless, on a quest for revenge. he thinks that if we get the monster of the week, ill be better and he’ll find his hope in that. all roads lead to rome but he wont allow this one to reach the colosseum (defying destiny theme, hello).

the monster of the week hunt begins thusly, with sam generally uncomfortable. i confide in him about my psychic abilities and i explain to the brothers that i can help. both are opposed, but i am a chaotic little bitch and get involved anyway. throughout my involvement, sam learns more about the world of psychic mediums and thinks aha! hope! maybe if i dig deep enough (whore for lore amirite babes) ill find someone who’s lived an experience similar to mine! miss oc what are ur book recs for “i think i am psychic and terrified of it” and i say “fear not nerd have a very small cup of coffee and let me tell you about this great college course on divination”. this is relevant because i wanted to see more of sam desperately trying to fit into some sort of community, even a community of supernatural folk john and dean might’ve disapproved of, and finding that, at this point in time, he does not. he’s an outsider to normal people, he’s an outsider to those in contact with the paranormal. really hammer in that freak (affectionate) tagline. (he WILL build a safe haven in the men of letters bunker for all misfits in his adulthood, party city wig sam i do NOT perceive you)

the hunt culminates in an impressive showdown that includes the following: pyrotechnics, a cool spell, seeing things that aren’t really there, the power of friendship and a butter knife thrown like a frisbee. at the end we all look like final girls because im gay so blood is sexy. sam, who has come to regard me like a younger sibling/some sort of manifestation of his inner child, learns what it’s like to be deeply concerned with a youth’s safety and has a heart to heart with dean about how yeah, handling a teenager with incredible amounts of simmering rage and unprocessed grief while being barely equipped for any guardian-like role IS hard, man, is this what it felt like every time i busted out a batshit plan last minute and barely executed it in time to survive??? “yeah. bitch” “jerk.”

the epilogue is as follows: we see sam feeling many complicated things, but he is satisfied for the moment. we have a little heart to heart while laying flowers on my father’s grave. we both look a little worse for wear, but hopeful. “what’re you gonna do now?” “im not sure. college, maybe?” we keep in touch. i go on to art school and make homoerotic art pieces, as is my right. i make guest appearances whenever they need a deus ex machina bs spell to get out of trouble.

maybe in later seasons i go a little ape shit and commit some magical atrocities in the name of the greater good. maybe i get a little antagonized and he gets to offer me the understanding he couldn’t get when he needed it. i see you, sam, treating all misfits in later seasons with kindness, and i offer you a claire-like parallel to be there for through the tough times, thus healing some of your own wounds. everyone deserves an angsty wlw teenager to bond with . (i am only on season 9 of my rewatch and i have not seen seasons 12-15 in their entirety, if he does get one im not disrespecting that character and i love them probably)

the boys hit the road. vienna by billy joel plays, because it makes me feel things.

Slow down you're doing fine

You can't be everything you want to be before your time

Although it's so romantic on the borderline tonight

Too bad, but it's the life you lead

You're so ahead of yourself that you forgot what you need

Though you can see when you're wrong

You know you can't always see when you're right

You got your passion, you got your pride

But don't you know that only fools are satisfied?

Dream on, but don't imagine they'll all come true

When will you realize... Vienna waits for you?

end scene.

this is poetry. i will cherish this forever thank you for sharing with me and good luck on your exam

[srebrnafh]

Five Favourite Works of Mine from the past year

Tagged by @shiplocks-of-love (and that post is here: https://shiplocks-of-love.tumblr.com/post/618719853246873600/five-favourite-works-of-mine-from-the-past-year so you can have a look at shiplocks’ choice :)) - thank you, dear!

The rules of this circulating challenge are as follows: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 favourite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you’ve brought into the world. tag as many writers/artists/etc as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

I took a looong look at my fics from the last 12 months and for a moment felt tempted to include “whole 2019″ since in 2020 I seem to be posting mostly little oneshots... Yeah, why not. Screw the rules.

(it seems I posted/finished posting way too many stories last year)

Counting down from 5, because.

5. Can you benchmark a soul?

MCU story, a lot of Tony as Peter’s parental figure, some magic, some fixing of Endgame, because we deserve it. A lot of feels and family stuff. One of these stories that got away from me, a bit, but still seems pretty consistent. I really needed some release of post-Endgame anger.

4. Tattered

Winglock. Johnlock, of course. Another one that got away from me a bit. Like, 50% bit ;)

Came to me one morning, was supposed to be an open-ended oneshot, then a two-chapter piece... and I ended up with my own Wing!AU without A/O or other typical tropes, the story grew to 6 chapters and actually got a kind of a finale :)

It might have been a case of “if you want a story like this, write it”.

It does have a bit of deus-ex-machina ending, but I’m working on that particular flaw of my texts. I still like it. It gives me fluffy feelings.

3. Double Pride Double Trouble

My biggest and probably longest-written baby. The first chapter (or what became the first chapter) was written maybe 6 or 7 years ago.

A mix of Pride and Prejudice (modern setting) with Lotte and Lisa (or Parent Trap), a pinch of Jane of Lantern Hill and humongous amounts of OCs that somehow grew out of the text by themselves.

Lizzy and William got together, had twins and then... split up. Each ending up with one of the twins. Rose Darcy and Mina Bennet end up on the same summer camp and hate each other on sight. Forced to live together, as per the PT/L&L storyline, they start uncovering secrets. And then they switch places, each going to the parent she doesn’t know, to work out what had happened.

School life, first love, family, secrets, mistaken identity, intrigue, letters curiously left unread, reconciliation, weddings. And HEA. For more than just Lizzy and Darcy!

Warning: 300+k words.

2. The Burning

Mostly posted in 2018, but finished in 2019!

What if... John was a bit quicker and made the deal with the devil before the devil got to Sherlock?

Sherlock is left in London, mourning his best friend, but employed by Mycroft as analyst helping the new MI6 agent now tasked with dismantling Moriarty’s network. The agent seems to be very bright, very sociable...

...and is flirting with Sherlock through the gifts he sends back from places he visits? And what is this about the fridge magnets?

Johnlock, obviously. Because what else. ANGSTY.

1. My pride and... and angst. Fading Interest. 

Sherlock is introduced to Stamford’s old university colleague, one Doctor Watson. The only issue is, doctor Watson is invisible.

Or: what if John’s depression was given direct physical form.

I teared up writing it more than once. It started with a gif of John slowly disappearing in his bedsit, which made my brain jump to Ninny, the invisible girl (from Moomins), which then became a story of a man who thought himself so forgotten, he disappeared.

If I may say so myself, I did some good work here. I’m really proud of how this turned out, including narration shifts, text formatting use and stream of consciousness pieces.

Tagging @sherlockedcarmilla @geekymoviemom @notjustamumj @reveling-in-mayhem - be bold! be proud! post about yourself :)

[imaginesbymk]

PINK + WHITE.

—PROLOGUE

summary: teresa’s permanent resignation from the peaky blinders leads her to a whole new chapter of working in an art museum. but little did she know her best life would be butchered some time later when her former lover tommy shelby gives her no choice but to return to the peaky blinders after they make new enemies, with the leader, of all people, being the man teresa fell in love with one night after a wedding reception back in post world war; luca changretta.

pairing: luca changretta x OC x tommy shelby

tags in this chapter: swearing, spoilers & mentions of death and violence

[ chapter index // meet my oc // wattpad link ]

1926.

THE PENARTH ART GALLERY was making progress one fine Saturday afternoon. Despite the condition, more of the state everyone was in post world war, all minds were at ease as their fine interest in paintings and sculptures and its fine history were all set spotless in the exhibition. Opening day invited many guests, and guests invited their guests.

Champagne was given out to the adults as refreshments, upon Teresa Griffith's request, that each glass would fill to the the rim, all matching measurements. Many countless chatter made it difficult for her to think, but it was solid and keen feeling knowing the empty spaces of marble floors and shining stone walls were no longer vacant. It was a full house.

"Where do you want these?" an employee asks Teresa.

She eyed the basket of pamphlets the employee carried and tilts her head to think, pursing her lips. "Try the side, I'd like it near the champagne!"

"Yes, Miss Griffith." And off they went.

No one approached her afterwards. Teresa watched before turning her attention to the crowd that drew around her, where she began tapping the microphone placed at the centre of the foyer.

"Thank you!" Teresa spoke as the applause died down. "After months and months, we finally brought our ambition to life. I couldn't have made this happen if it weren't for my team and for the fundraisers we've held to make this all happen. Now this is our chance to come in and see brilliant art before our own eyes. And I was once a wee girl who loved Monet, who loved Van Gogh, who wished be confident like marble statues . . . and now I think it's safe to say I've held a new perspective—"

Teresa had to make eye contact with the crowd, and yet, one stood out all the way from the back where the pillar held up the giant building. And of course, the young man dressed in a sharp suit. It's been years, and it took one Peaky Blinder to come a long way from Small Heath just to see one woman do just fine without a life of crime and violence.

But all Teresa could feel was her stomach dropping as she never took her eyes off of Michael Gray. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the our grand re-opening of the Penarth exhibition of the Art Deco."

Applause, whistles and cheers erupted while Teresa got out of the spotlight. There was no hint of a welcome in Michael’s body language. He was changed man, seemed much more confident than the first time Polly Gray welcomed him to the family and even placed a spot as a member of the Blinders, he looked to be more eager to speak to Teresa, and it wasn’t to say congratulations.

"Why?" was what she spat out at the young man.

"Just came here to support you, Teresa.”

"Bullshit you came here to support me. Why the fuck are you here? You never showed a passion for art, just cocaine and accounting. I know, people never shut the hell up about you lot.”

“Teresa,” Michael reached out his hand, but lowered it when he thought it wasn’t a good idea to touch her. “You should know why I’m here. It’s not in black and white.”

The guests all walked different directions, some exchanging puzzled looks when they noticed Polly Gray’s son was there, and grew worried.

"Michael, these people know who you are. Please, for Christ sake, just go.”

“I have to tell you something and I need you to give me five minutes of your time.”

“And I’m giving you five minutes to leave my fucking museum.” Teresa grits through her teeth while she smiles and waves to the passing guests.

“Do you not want to know what the fuck happened?”

“No, because what happens to you guys doesn’t matter to me anymore.”

“Five minutes,” Michael says.

“You’re gonna drive my guests away because they’re gonna think something's gonna happen here. This is my day!” Teresa jabbed a finger pointed at her chest. “This is the peak of my career, and I'm not gonna let a Peaky fucking Blinder ruin this for me!”

“Ms. Griffith?” the only man from the team who held superiority over Teresa approached the two with caution. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes,” she breathed out. “I just finished speaking to Mr. Gray here, who happens to be leaving.” She glares at him.

The man nodded and went on his way to the renaissance department.

Michael frowns when Teresa walked away to the pamphlet basket. “I’m not leaving.”

Teresa hands him a pamphlet. “Down there are the marble statues!”

“And I’m armed so good luck to the security trying to escort a Blinder off Griffith property.”

Teresa groans and folds her arms. “All right. Fine. Talk.”

Michael Gray gripped the folds of the pamphlet as he prepared to drop a bomb of breaking news on her, but he didn’t hesitate. “John is dead.”

John Shelby. There wasn’t a time when Teresa wouldn’t laugh at John’s stubbornness or how street smart he was born to act like. When he arranged-married Esme she remembered his smirk when he peeked what she looked like. Esme. Poor Esme, she couldn’t imagine how Esme is coping right now.

"John was a good man. May God rest his soul." Teresa stood still, reading Michael’s face. “But I’m sure John told me to fuck off when I resigned. So why did you come a long way here to tell me this?”

“We need you, Teresa.” Michael said. “And that means you’re going to have to postpone your exhibition dates for now, because you’re gonna come back to Birmingham.”

She scoffs. “Put the Penarth gallery on pause just for you guys? Now you really need to leave.”

“None of this works without you. You’ve been a decoy before, you once said it yourself. It’s your beauty that blinds the eye.”

“Whoever killed John should be at the gallows, but you don’t need me to see it. I’m done. I swore to never return to the Peaky Blinders. I nearly lost my mind over everything we fought for. And I hate looking over my shoulder all the time so I had no choice but to leave, and I’m so happy I did. Otherwise I would of ended up like John. Who even killed John, anyway?”

“This is different. This is serious—I’m serious. It was the New York fucking mafia that killed our John. We all got sent a black hand letter at our post, they know where we all live, so I felt like I needed to check up on you to see if you were still breathing!”

This sent an icy shock to Teresa’s body. A dilemma she was now being placed in between. Not because of a threatening letter, but who they were now dealing with. She was definitely not coming back.

“I check my post every day, never received one,” she spoke softly. “Who signed the black hand letters?”

Her face falls when Michael shapes his lips to form the name she had never forgotten about, the name she loved to say when she felt his lips latch onto her skin. “Luca Changretta.”

[nightwingshero]

OC Interview

I was tagged by @ja-crispea thank you, love!

Name: Wren Marie Blake

Are you single: Nope. I’m with John Seed.

Are you happy: *laughs* Overall, I suppose.

Are you angry: Uhm...I mean, I’m not...I’m not normally an angry person per se. I think...I have a lot of unresolved emotions that just kind of build up over time, and I’ve just never really dealt with them. Which explains the drinking and self-harm issues. But I guess, with how everything hit the fan and with all the violence, it just turned into anger. So, in a way, maybe I am angry. I don’t know. Next question?

Are your parents still married: Super tempted to do the whole Batman thing, you know, the “my parents are dead!” dramatic bit? But my mother died when I was young and my father died a before I moved to Hope County. So, no, I suppose they aren’t. 

Nine Facts

Birthplace: Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

Hair color: Black

Eye color: Blue green, though mostly green. They change sometimes. 

Birth date: June 24th, 1989...yeah, I’m a Cancer. I know that matters to some people, so...

Mood: Hmmm. A bit energetic, I had a Monster this morning. Other than that, I guess I’m at ease a bit. Generally happy. 

Gender: Female

Summer or winter: Honestly, neither. I prefer Spring and Fall. But if I had to choose one, summer. I love the cold, but I like to swim more. 

Morning or afternoon: Afternoon. I’m not a morning person. It takes me too long to just get started on my day. 

Eight things about your love life

Are you in love: I don’t know how he did it, but yes, I’m in love.

Do you believe in love at first sight: *laughs* My future husband and I tried to kill each other the first few times we met...I think that one answers itself, hun.

Who ended your last relationship: Okay, this is awkward. He did. I was...having an affair with my college professor who, surprise, was married. He broke it off when, another surprise, I ended up pregnant. So....yeah. 

Have you ever broken someones heart: Maybe, I think so. 

Are you afraid of commitment: Yes and no. I want commitment and to be loved, but I guess I’m just scared of being abandoned, you know? Makes it a bit hard to open up to people when you’ve had bad experiences doing so in the past. 

Have you hugged someone in the last week: Sure. John, that’s a no brainer. Adelaide, Rowan, Jacob does this side hug thing, so I’m counting that. 

Have you ever broken your own heart: Guilty as charged. I started a fight with John when things started to get serious because I was falling in love with him, and was afraid he was faking everything just to get me to join. So...yeah. Looking back, if I would’ve just talked with him, maybe things would have been a bit different. 

Six Choices

Love or Lust: Love, for sure. Don’t get me wrong, Lust is definitely one of my sins, and its a lot of fun. But I value love over it, for sure. 

Lemonade or Iced Tea: Tea, I really love the taste of it.

Cats or Dogs: Cats. Peaches is a badass, and I love how independent cats are.

A few Best friends or Regular Friends: Best friends. I’m fine with a small circle. I’m introverted anyways. 

Wild night out or romantic night in: *laughs* Yeah, I’m an introvert. A wild night sounds...terrible. Romantic night in, hands down. John is also super good at making a romantic dinner. I wouldn’t pass that up for anything. 

Day or night: Night, for sure. It’s fun to swim, watch the stars, and the view of Holland Valley by the YES sign at night? Gorgeous! But most importantly, that’s the best time to watch a scary movie.

Five Have You Evers

Been caught sneaking out: Never. My father kept me on lockdown a lot of my life, so I never really...did much of anything. 

Fallen Down/Up the Stairs: I’ve slipped down the stairs from not paying attention. John makes me use the railing on a daily basis now. 

Wanted someone/something so badly it hurt: Oh god...you have no idea. 

Wanted to disappear: *sighs* Yeah, unhealthily so.

Four preferences

Smile or eyes: *sighs heavily* Oof, that’s a tough one. I love both. I would say eyes. They’re the windows to the soul and all that. 

Shorter or taller: I’m 5′4. I definitely prefer taller, and its not hard, honestly. Sharky makes fun of me all the time. 

Intelligence or Attraction: I mean....the more intelligent you are, the more attractive you are to me, so I don’t really think it matters? But I value intelligence any day. I love having deep conversations. 

Hook up or Relationship: Relationship. I get too emotionally attached, and I just can’t do it. 

Family

Do you and your family get along: Uhm, before my mom died, we were super close. My dad and I hated each other, even though I constantly sought his approval. I get along pretty good now with my in-laws. And my friends and I are really close, too.  

Would you say you have a messed up life: *scoffs* Where would you like me to begin?

Have you ever ran away from home: No, I didn’t have the courage to try that with my dad. I left as soon as I turned 18, though. 

Have you ever got kicked out: No, my dad had a major control issue. I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere and he always wanted me under his thumb. Which is why I left as soon as I could. 

Friends

Do you secretly hate one of your friends: No, why would I? What’s the point of being friends if you hate them? *laughs* kinda defeats the purpose, don’t you think?

Do you consider all of your friends good friends: Absolutely. I chose my friends very carefully, and they’re amazing people. 

Who is your best friend: Rowan and Adelaide. They’ve always been there for me no matter what, and Addie has stuck by me from the very beginning. I love them both. 

Who knows everything about you: *laughs* Oh, that’s easy. John for sure. John knows me like the back of his hand, and vice versa. We don’t keep anything from each other.

Tagging: @chazz-anova @fadedjacket @joeyhxdson @xbaebsae @seedlingsinner @returnofthepd3 @shallow-gravy

[writingkeepsmewhole]

Back From The Dead

This is part 2 Of Angel Eyes This is also fic 21 of my 365 Fics Challenge. This part is short but I’m mage busy today so this is as good as I could do in the time I have.

Fic Summary: Dean comes back from hell.

Dean Winchester x OC Claudia

Warnings: Language, talk of death.

Taglist: Let me know if you want to be tagged. @magssteenkamp​ @deanwanddamons​ @lemondropirwin​

Part 1

Four months later. Dean’s POV

I made it out. Somehow I made it outta hell and back to Bobby’s house back to the life I never thought I would get to see again. But it wasn’t the welcome home party I was expecting. Sam was gone barely checking in and Claudia was on some hunt on mountain with no signal. To say I felt alone was an understatement.

That feeling changed when I heard the door open to the kitchen. A voice calling out that I missed more than brothers.

“Bobby I’m back!” Claudia calls walking in.

I was sitting on the couch in Bobby’s living room just a few yards away from here but I couldn’t find the nerve to move. The last time I saw her filling my mind.

“How'd it go?” Bobby asks her back to us.

I watch her pick up a glass and fill it with water taking a gulp.

“Shitty… It’s one thing to have to protect a bunch of teens from a wendigo it’s another to have convince the old man that it’s okay to kill the wendigos.”

“Wendigos? You mean there were more than one of ‘em?”

“I think I counted five? I don’t know I lost count there towards the end.”

“Well did you save the kids?”

“Every last one.” She says taking her final drink then turning the glass upside down setting it in the sink. It something she's done since we were kids.

“I need a hot shower.” She says turning around to face us. Her eyes quickly jumping to me he freezing in place.

Claudia’s POV

I freeze when I see Dean sitting on the couch. Him looking normal, a grin on his face and hope in his eyes.

I quickly shake my head and look down closing my eyes tightly.

“You alright Callie?” Bobby asks taking a step closer to me.

“I’m fine just seeing Dean again.” I say smiling keeping my eyes locked on Bobby.

Scared if I looked over he would still be there. I seen him everyday for a month after he died. At first it was him all mangled up then it changed to how he looked every day.

After my leg healed up I started hunting and seeing him as stopped all for expect my dreams. I couldn’t escape him there.

“He’s-.”

“I know, he’s gone. Nothing I can do about it. I’m gonna go take that shower.” I say quickly leaving the room wanting away from my hallucinations.

I stop at the door when a ringing fills my head. I clench my eyes and hold onto the doorframe.

“Callie?” Bobby asks.

I hold my hand up and take a deep breath it settling and then disappearing.

“I’m okay just that stupid ringing in my head.”

“You should get someone-.”

“I’m okay Bobby don’t worry about me. I’ve lived through worse..” I say glancing at Dean’s memory then quickly running up stairs.

After showering I change into some cut off black shorts and a AC/DC tank top. It would of Dean’s old shirts that I converted.

Hearing Bobby talking to himself I roll my eyes as I walk down the steps. A smile coming to my face at his craziness.

“You want some lunch I’m starving.” I say walking back into the living room.

“What the hell happened to your leg?” Asks a voice I heard in my dreams.

I jump my head snapping to the couch Dean sitting there. I stumbled back tripping over my own feet making my fall to the floor.

“He’s talking. My hallucinations are talking.” I say fear filling me as I try to scramble away from it as Dean gets up and walks towards me.

“Callie it’s me.” He says softly

“No its not!” I say closing my eyes and covering my ears.

Memories of being bedridden, of lying for hours as I had to look at Dean’s torn up body or relive that night invaded my mind.

“Your not real.” I say as I start to rock myself.

“Your not real.” I say feeling hands on me.

“Go away, go away, go away. Just go away.” I say as tears start to fill my eyes.

I jump when the hands over my ears are jerked off me.

“Callie!” Dean yells making my eyes snap open and look up at him.

“Snap outta it. I’m real!” He says grabbing my hand and placing it on his chest.

“See I’m right here. I’m no in your head.” He says softer.

I look from him to Bobby both of them crouched down in front of me.

“It’s really him sweetheart, texted him myself. Dean’s back, he’s alive.” Bobby says calmly, him placing his hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“Your real?”

“Like the devil himself.” He says smiling.

I push myself off the wall almost knocking him and Bobby over as I fling my arms around his neck. Shoving my face in his neck I hold onto him tightly.

“Don’t ever leave again okay?” I ask as tears started to run down my face.

“I don’t plan on it.” He says wrapping his arms around me.

“I really missed you.” I say my voice cracking.

“You told me you would.” He says kissing my head.

I hold onto him the smell of him invading my senses. I never thought I would miss the smell of cinnamon and whisky.

“You want to go sit on the couch?” He asks reminding me that we are still tanglined on the floor.

“Okay.” I say nodding.

“You gotta let me go.”

“I can’t.” I say honestly. Scared if I let him go he would disappear again.

“Alright then.” He says moving his arm to hook under my legs.

With a grunt he stands up with the weight of both of us and walks into the living room. He sets down with me still in his lap. I shift around us getting more comfortable my head finding its way on his shoulder. My back leaning on the bookshelf shoved up next to the couch.

“Your really here.” I say looking at him still not believing it. Waiting for myself to wake up.

“I’m here.”

“Your not all...broken.” I say my eyes trailing down his body.

“Yeah I’m whole again.” He says reaching between us and lifting his shirt up.

His stomach completely flawless, there wasn’t any scars. Not even the ones he had before he sold his soul.

“How is that possible?”

“Beats me?”

“How did you get out?” I ask looking up at him as he drops his shirt.

“That’s what me and Bobby was trying to figure out before you come home.”

“We thought you or Sam might have made a deal.” Bobby says leaning on the desk, crossing his arms.

“I didn’t. I was in the middle of nowhere plus I knew Dean would hate if I did that.” I say looking from, Dean to Bobby and back again.

“So that just leaves Sam.” Dean says.

“Where is he anyways?” I ask.

“On a hunt is all he told me. Kid don’t call home everyday like you do.”

“Well I’m a good kid.” I say smiling at Bobby.

Feeling Dean’s hand landed on my bare thigh I look to see him tracing my scars. Four large gagged scars running down from hip to knee on my left leg.

“So what happened here?” He asks looking up at me.

“I honestly don’t know. I can tell you how I got them. The same heal hound that killed you took a chunk outta me.”

“Why and how?”

“Lillith got distracted with Sam, I wasn’t pinned to the wall anymore so I tried to get to you and save you. Well I got in the way of a pair of claws. I passed out from the blood loss. Woke up here a few days later.” I say trying not to think abo9ut that night or the pain that followed.

“She lucky she didn’t lose the leg.” Bobby says.

“I’m sorry.” I say not meaning it.

I would do it again in a heartbeat. Dean wasn’t alone when he died so that's all that matters.

“Yeah I bet.”

I smile at him as I curl more into Dean. Feeling like I could breathe again something that I ave been faking for months.

Bobby shakes his head and scratches his beard earning a curious look from me.

“What is it?” 

“You two sitting like that is bringing up some old memories.”

“We haven’t done this in years.” Dean says his ears pink telling me he’s embarrassed.

“I remember the first time we ever sat like this. Hell I remember the first time I met you two.”

“You were what four?” Bobby asks.

I nod it only stuck out to me because of what happened that night.

I was terrified and confused. John brought me back to Bobby’s because that's where Sam and Dean were. He figured Bobby could find someone to take me in.

I remember being scared of Bobby he beard a lot longer back then. I was covered in my parent's blood and both men didn’t know what to do with me. But Dean did.

I remember him getting a warm wet rag and marching up to me. He started to wash off my hands like he knew exactly what he was doing. Kinda blows my mind that a six year old already knew how to care for someone else.

I stuck close to Dean after that. Scared of everyone and everything else. I didn’t talk for a whole year. Despite that Dean always seemed to know what I needed. His name was the first word I said. I could only sleep if I was next to Dean. He never seemed to mind. I woke up one morning alone. I called for him scared I was left behind. That they didn’t want the broken girl anymore.

I was wrong they wanted me. John treated me like I was his own. I lost my parents but in the end I had a family.

[hopes-baptist]

OC INTERVIEW

Tagging: @chipblogging @xbaebsae @ja-crispea and anyone else who would like to join 🥰

name ➔ “Robyn. Castle. Both works.”

are you single ➔ “I fortunately found someone that puts up with me. *laughs*”

are you happy ➔ “I am actually the happiest I’ve ever been.”

are you angry ➔ "I’m angry at the fact that this whole Eden’s Gate vs The Resistance thing is happening. I feel as if all this could have been avoided if we all just talked to one another and figure out how to properly work everything out.”

are your parents still married ➔ "I’m adopted actually. My adoptive father’s wife unfortunately died before he adopted me.”

NINE FACTS

birth place ➔ “Georgia”

hair colour ➔ “Black”

eye colour ➔ “Brown”

birthday ➔ “March 28th”

mood ➔ “*smiles* depends on the circumstances and who I’m with.”

gender ➔ “Female.”

summer or winter ➔ “I love the winters here. Everything is just covered in Snow and it’s absolutely beautiful, especially in the Whitetails.”

morning or afternoon ➔ “ Is neither an option? I’m more of a night time kind of gal.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

are you in love ➔ “I... I am actually. *laughs* I never actually thought about it until now. Yes I am.”

do you believe in love at first sight ➔ “no I don’t. I believe that love at first sight is actually attraction at first sight. Love should be built on the persons actions and not appearances... if that makes sense.”

who ended your last relationship ➔ “embarrassing enough the relationship I’m in now is my very first relationship. Growing up my father was very protective of me so boys were a no-no. “

have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ “nope. At least not that I know of... dun dun dun. *laughs*”

are you afraid of commitments ➔ "yea...yea I am. I’ll be the first to admit that I have abandonment issues, because my biological parents left me at an orphanage. And I’m afraid that I’ll just be left behind again... that just got real sad...”

have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ “yea I love hugs. John gets at LEAST 10 surprise hugs a day.”

have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ “I did actually, in high school. Yea my Dad shut that down real quick. He found a note in my backpack and went to the boys house, to this day I have no idea what my dad did to him. Poor Micheal didn’t talk to me at all after that.”

have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ “Yes. Before coming to Hope County I asked about my Dad about his Wife, and it turns out he had a son and daughter that died as well. Seeing the look on his face and hearing his voice crack while he explained what happened broke my heart.”

SIX CHOICES

love or lust ➔ "Love.”

lemonade or iced tea ➔ “most definitely Lemonade.”

cats or dogs ➔ "Dogs.”

a few best friends or many regular friends ➔ “few best friends. It’s quality over quantity ladies and gentlemen.”

wild night out or romantic night in ➔ "Both honestly. One of the things that I like about John is that he’s very spontaneous when it comes to our date nights. Some can be a romantic night in some can be a wild night out, hell sometimes it’s a wild and Romantic night inside and out.”

day or night ➔ “ Night.”

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

been caught sneaking out ➔ “since my father is a ex marine, I had to get good at sneaking to get past him. That being said I had to go through trial and error to successfully get out unnoticed. *smiles* my first success was when I snuck out to go see Black Veil in concert. They were fantastic just so you know.”

fallen down/up the stairs ➔ "I’ve fallen up, down, and sideways on the stairs. I’m very clumsy.*laughs*”

wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ "after John and I found out we were friends when we were in the orphanage, I desperately wanted to be close with him again. But with me being Pastor Jerome’s Niece and Him being one of the Heralds of Eden’s Gate, it was hard for us to see each other at the beginning of our relationship.”

wanted to disappear ➔ “I don’t think there was ever a time I wanted to disappear.”

FOUR PREFERENCES

smile or eyes ➔ “Eyes. They are the windows to the soul, and it’s hard to hide what you’re feeling when your eyes always tells the truth.”

shorter or taller ➔ “Taller, I love the feeling of being engulfed in John’s arms and being the perfect height to rest my head in the crook of his neck.”

intelligence or attraction ➔ “Intelligence. I would like to have deep conversations with someone and I couldn’t bare to do that with a meat head.”

hook-up or relationship ➔ “Relationship. I emotionally can not handle a one night stand.”

FAMILY

do you and your family get along ➔ “my dad and I do yes. And I flew out to meet my uncle and so far things are doing great.”

would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ “I wouldn’t say it’s messed up, but there were some ‘unfortunate’ times that I had to live through.”

have you ever ran away from home ➔ “Nope.”

have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ “no.”

FRIENDS

do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ “Nope, I will only engage with someone if I like them in some way.”

do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ “no. I consider good friends to be people I can tell everything too. And most of my friends would not approve of my boyfriend of choice. That is if they found out about my relationship.”

who is your best friend ➔ “John. It’s cheesy I know but he’s the only one that truly gets me.”

who knows everything about you ➔ “I talk to my dad about everything. He was all I had for majority of my life so we are very close, and he’s the only one I told about John and I. And John knows basically everything about me as well but that’s about it.”

[sick-raven]

Ghosts of the past - Chapter 1

Batman fanfiction

Characters: Jonathan Crane, OC - Miranda Bradbury, Bruce Wayne, John Constantine

About: Miranda Bradbury moved to Gotham for a few reasons - to enjoy her career as an assassin, and to face her fears. Who else should help her with hallucinations that follow her than the fear expert Jonathan Crane? However, the doctor-patient relationship is very unstable one as both of them have to fight with their past, their present, and Batman.

Author note: I was trying to figure out some fancy way to describe the story. It's just a porn with a plot about two sick freaks. Enjoy.

Fair warnings: Suicide attempt, rape mentions, nsfw, violence, light bdsm

Status: Finished, will post next chapters when in mood.

Can also read at AO3.

Chapter 1

It was a dark evening in Gotham. Now, every evening was dark, but in Gotham with its never-ending mist of smog, it was especially dull and uncomfortable. Street lights wouldn’t break the darkness, windows only shined TV light out and painted pictures of entertained families, or dining families, or, as most common in Gotham, arguing families.

Gotham was also loud and Terry Borrows hated that fact. They’ve never got used to constant car noises – revving of engines and horn honking that all coming back twofold in echoes bouncing from walls of thin streets. Annoying, headache causing. Terry would rather listen to their boss shouting all day.

They were hyper focused on the noise. On their check-up doctor said it’s nothing weird and then asked for payment in amount of Terry’s two-month salaries. Thief.

That’s when they heard it. Soft, almost silent ding. As if you try to get attention at the wedding table and you hit the crystal glass with a spoon. Once. Carefully. It sounded almost magical in this grey place.

Ding.

Terry stopped. At the end of the narrow street they saw a shadow. It was a person kneeling next to something on the ground. Terry didn’t see any details, but dread climbed on their back. This is Gotham. Terry should run. It doesn’t matter what were they witnessing, the logical thing is to…

Ding.

The person looked his way. Every little move was followed by that soft jingle.

And then Terry realized they can’t move anymore. The jingle dinged louder. And louder. The sound vibrated through the streets catching them right by the soul. Terry realized they can’t breathe. Their heart was racing like crazy and their head hurt from wave of sound around them.

The person… a woman… walked straight to Terry, bringing the sound with her. In the dark Terry recognized a scarf on her face and… oh god… bloody knife in her hand.

Run! They tried to move their legs. Nothing.

The sound. The fear. The knife.

Finally, Terry’s body gave in and they fainted. They didn’t see the woman touching their neck for pulse. Nor did they hear the sound stop as the woman left without hurting them.

In the street, there lay another body.

***

Miranda Bradbury really liked Gotham. She felt like a character in gothic romance. Darkness, never-ending mist and bad weather, creepy architecture and constant danger. She enjoyed Gotham since she’s moved here two weeks prior. This city was crazy. Mental even! During the time period she tried to adapt to her new environment, she’s already seen the clown terrorizing city, the Riddler enslaving a whole block and some maniac with knives kidnapping people trying to lure in the Bat.

Oh, yeah. Batman. Before she didn’t understand. How can the police just let mask vigilante on loose? She understood after two days. This city…

This city also ruined her business right away. She moved here, opened a toyshop and that was it. The empty place flourished under her care, filled with toys, decorations and joy. The shop was in pretty good part of town, and yet – no customers. Too late she found out this used to be a toyshop of some crazy guy – calling himself the Toymaker – who tried to kill the city with explosive teddy-bears and sentient Barbie dolls.

Yes. This city was mental.

And she loved it. She always tried to blend in, be the grey mouse in her warm turtleneck and messy brown hair. After witnessing crazy punk-rock fashion of this city she realized she stood up more like this. At least she can pass for naïve outsider. That’s always a plus in her line of work.

The fourth day and finally two guys entered her shop. They looked around with deep uninterest in their eyes. Walked through isles touching stuffed toy here and there or picking up a toy car and putting it back two seconds later. Miranda waited patiently at the counter, small smile on her lips.

They finally stopped in front of her. She suspected they are twins as their expression were the same – dull and bored. They were dressed like gangsters from twenties. Gotham was weirdly stuck in time.

“G’morning, lady,” said one of them despite it being deep afternoon. “We’ve come to talk.”

“How much?” Miranda asked.

“Excuse me?”

“How much?” she repeated not losing her patience. She adored the confused looks. “This isn’t my first rodeo, gentlemen. How much is the protection fee?”

“Straight lass, huh?”

“Partially,” Miranda joked. “I hate beating around the bush.”

“Don loves people like you. Right to bus’ ya know? It’s ten percent if you don’t want’cha place to burn.”

Miranda overlooked the empty store. Ten percent of nothing is… probably not suitable for Don Falcone, one of the mafia leaders of the city. Before setting the shop, Miranda made her research on the city’s bad guys. Always ready. Don Falcone won’t care, he will just want his cash. She started to think she underestimated the marketing. Be better PR, Miranda, it’s not that hard.

“Tell me, friends,” she started with a nice voice, “how does Don Falcone feel about illegal businesses?”

***

Miranda moved to Gotham for various reasons. One of them was the fact she was constantly on the move. She’s never spent anywhere more than two years. The last city she was in was Star City and that didn’t go well for her with all the supers around.

The second reason was that she’s always heard about Gotham as this sick place. The city corrupted by illness eating itself out like a wounded animal. That intrigued her and she felt as if this is the proper place to hide and never be found. And if she is, it will be probably in the dumpster behind some chemical plant. She could live with that future in mind.

The third reason… the main reason she wasn’t afraid to admit, she just didn’t want to deal with it… was him.  Professor Jonathan Crane. Miranda took years of stupid, non-working, useless therapy to end up here. Her… could she even call them fears?... were crippling. And she needed the best. Jonathan Crane was the best. The fear specialist with shady background. But that’s Gotham for you. You might do inhumane experiments on your students and don’t get your licence revoked.

Miranda should probably be afraid of someone like that. Ridiculous idea. He was still running decent psychiatric office and all reviews threw him five stars. She will be careful. She just really needed help.

This was the part she hated. Explaining. She sat in front of the professor. He was fairly young for the title. Miranda’s looked through his files too, though he has been careful keeping most of the information hidden. Star student, at least he used to be. Those climb the leader fast. He wasn’t even forty yet, his ginger hair hid possible grey hair very well. He was watching her with his intense blue eyes and almost never blinked. He waited for her to get everything out. Miranda hated those stories. Repeating them again always made her feel crazy. She probably was.

“It’s complicated. I will try to make it short.” Now, Miranda, where is your hate for beating around the bush, huh? Just tell the nice doctor you are a fucking madwoman.

The professor was silent. Waiting. Even sitting he was very tall, and she noticed his fingers being thin and bony, just like his whole appearance.

“I have a problem. I’ve seen tons of shrinks about it already. Most of them gave up on me or drugged me to no avail. The thing is I have this weird… I don’t know… Phobia. Causing me panic attacks, crippling me.”

“That is not uncommon for deep fears,” said the professor. Miranda wondered how can shrinks be so calm. If someone told her they are crazy, she would probably joke about it right away.

“Yes, I know. I was told that hundred times already. There’s a catch.”

“Do tell.”

Miranda shuffled in her chair. No matter how many times she has talked about this it still made her uncomfortable and she felt like an idiot. But she had to fight this. Or she might…

“It’s ghosts. I panic around ghosts.”

The professor opened his mouth to say something, but Miranda quickly stopped him.

“No, I don’t believe in ghosts. That’s nonsense. I just call these things ghosts. It’s like… hallucination I keep having. They appear and it’s like someone caught my heart and pulled it out of my chest. I feel dead. I cannot move, I cannot act, think, anything. But according to all the doctors, I am sane.”

“When do these ghosts appear?” Professor didn’t even flinch. Nor blinked. He heard crazy talk daily why should she be any more interesting?

“They first appeared a little over a decade back. This is when the first attack happened. Then I got a charm, see?” She touched her necklace. Simple round silver ball that jingled softly when moved. “It keeps them away. When I take this off, I see them. I get attacked right away.”

“May I see?”

She held the pendant firmly. “Sorry, I don’t take it off on the first date.”

Her joke created tiny smile on his face. “Understandable.”

He asked more questions and she tried to answer as truthfully as her crime record allowed. By the end of the session she felt like dried out sponge.

“Don’t be afraid, miss Bradbury. We will figure this out,” professor said when she was leaving.

“Funny you say that. I can’t really feel the fear,” she smiled and that ended their first meeting.

***

Terry Borrows way lying in the hospital bed. They hit their head during the horrid night which caused a mild concussion. The doctors were also worried about their heart because it showed signs of arrythmia.  It disappeared a day after the incident, but everyone was head over heels with this situation.

“They keep me here because they want to blame it on me,” wrote Terry to their friend. “Because they have nobody else for the murder.” Terry believed that. This wouldn’t be the first time Gotham has fucked them over. At least they survived. Witnessing murder first hand was like being sentenced to death.

So, they were bored on the hospital bed, half asleep, half awake, back hurting from cheap bedding. Eyes closing and opening again just to see how far the sun has moved or whether the food was ready.

Closing. Opening. The sun was setting.

Closing. Opening. Darkness.

Closing. Opening. Shadow.

Terry’s heart nearly stopped. They shouted by surprise. They are definitely going to die now!

“Terry Borrows,” said the shadow with a deep voice. “I have few questions for you.”

Terry was struck by fear. The rational part of their brain wanted to scream. They didn’t. They watched a man dressed as giant bat and their voice trembled.

“Y-yes?”

“What did you see at the crime scene?”

“I already told the police everything.” There was panic in their voice.

“Tell me.”

“There was a woman, she killed someone. She had some sort of mask. She… ah!”

The door opened. The nurse stepped between the doorframe, looked at Batman and then strategically left closing the door behind her. Terry swallowed a curse.

“Continue,” demanded Batman.

“The sound. It was the sound that made me faint.”

“What else can you remember?”

“The jingle. She was jingling like some fucking Christmas tree.”

“What about her movement?”

“What about it?” asked Terry. Batman just waited to let them figure out what he means. “I don’t know. I saw her just for a few seconds. She was hidden in the shadows.”

“Thank you, Terry.”

“You are welcome?” answered Terry unsurely. Then the door opened again, and doctor stormed in ready to shun the uninvited guest.

But he was already gone.

Chapter 2

[strawberry-skies-xx]

fic recs

time to make a post about every single amazing fic I’ve read! it’s gonna be a longass post so get ready!

fandoms, ships and tropes included:

Supernatural - Destiel (mostly AUs), Wincest, Sastiel, Sabriel, Sam x Ruby, Sam x Reader // omegaverse / boyking!Sam / God!Sam

BBC Sherlock - Johnlock, Sherlock x Molly Hooper x John and included pairings, Sherlock x Mycroft x Greg x John and all included pairings // omegaverse

Loki - Loki/OC

***this entire list has NSFW fics***

SUPERNATURAL

God!Sam, no ships

The Holy Grail Bird by de_nugis for monicawoe

The God-gun has a divine recoil effect. Sam has to have another try at living with power.

...

Boyking!Sam, no ships

The King’s Guard by monicawoe

Andy had spent the last few hours watching Sam Winchester —King of Hell, God of the Abyss, Bane of Heaven— kill nearly two dozen souls, and feed them all to his pet — the biggest, scariest looking hellhound of them all.

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Destiel

Twist and Shout by standbyme, gabriel

What begins as a transforming love between Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak in the summer of 1965 quickly derails into something far more tumultuous when Dean is drafted in the Vietnam War. Though the two both voice their relationship is one where saying goodbye is never a real truth, their story becomes fraught with the tragedy of circumstance. In an era where homosexuality was especially vulnerable, Twist and Shout is the story of the love transcending time, returning over and over in its many forms, as faithful as the sea.

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Blades of Silver, Hearts of Gold by Scribo_Vivere

Corsair Winchester is the most feared pirate in the Caribbean waters. When he makes it his goal to attack the Pride of Heaven, a massive ship that is part of Port Lawrence's Naval fleet, he finds himself ill-prepared in every way to come face to face with Commodore Castiel Novak, the brother of the man he wishes dead. It seems an easy solution to take the Commodore captive, but Castiel's ocean-blue eyes, kissable mouth, and fiery defiance make Winchester begin to question his choice. As a war ensues on all fronts, it remains to be seen who is the prisoner, who is the master, and how far both men will go in the name of prudence, sacrifice, and love.

...

Ninety One Whiskey by komodobits

In the spring of 1944, the 104th Medical Battalion of the United States Army is disbanded, and its men reassigned to various infantry companies in preparation for their invasion of occupied France. For First Lieutenant Novak, this is less than helpful, as he has so far met his platoon’s designated medic a grand total of twice, and has both times found Sergeant Winchester to be the optimum combination of reckless, arrogant, and downright insufferable so as to make cohesive platoon function near impossible. When the time comes to move out, however, Castiel has to reconcile himself to the fact that men are going to go down and trust that Dean Winchester may well be the only person who can put them back together again.

...

Steps by Camerahead12

The moment he saw Dean Winchester dance Castiel knew he was lost.

It wasn’t the way his muscles moved as he leapt across the floor, or even the way the sweat dripped down the man’s freckled skin. It was just simply the way he danced. The passion that bled out from the movements left him breathless and thirsty for more.

And when he danced with Dean that first time, it was like falling in love.

Little did he know that falling for the man would lead to questioning everything Castiel has ever stood for. As the deadline for the studios yearly performance draws closer, will Castiel be able to come up with an idea good enough to save his company? Or will it be too late to pull it away from Crowley, his money hungry investor’s hands?

As everything begins to slowly fall into place, Fate (as She usually does) has other ideas. Just when life seems to be working out, not only will their trust in each other be tested, but their strength they’ve discovered within themselves starts to bend. Will they be able to hold it together before it snaps, leaving nothing but broken dreams in its place?

...

Find Me in the Light by allmystars

Castiel is fine with his life. Really, he is. He’s content with the locals and his prying, if well-meaning, business partner and brother. Everything is just...fine. That’s how he likes it—plain and uneventful.

Until Gabriel hires Dean Winchester to work at the cafe and, suddenly, Castiel's carefully crafted isolation is broken apart like the waves that stole his mother from him, and Castiel hates him for it.

He hates Dean’s attitude—hates his car and his stupidly pretty face with that permanent smirk. He just...hates Dean Winchester.

Until he doesn’t.

Until, somehow, Dean manages to weasel his way into Castiel’s heart and take up permanent residence there. Then Castiel isn’t fine—he’s far from it, actually. He’s great—wonderful and perfect and happy.

But things change—nothing is ever-present—and this loss might kill him. It might just tear Castiel apart. After all, how do you lose something you’ve been searching for your whole life, and survive it? How do you do that?

Castiel doesn’t think he can.

...

Of Twists and Turns by Kitmistry, Piento

When naval surgeon Castiel Novak is captured by the Black Impala pirates, he has no choice but to agree to their terms: He is to serve on their ship for a whole year before they release him. That doesn’t mean he is going to like it, though. Especially when their captain is the embodiment of everything Castiel despises.

Determined to earn his freedom, Castiel settles into the life of an outlaw. When the pirates’ true goal is revealed, though, he can no longer deny that things are not as black and white as he thought they were. And he can’t deny how drawn he is to Captain Winchester either.

...

Sabriel

Fifty Shades of Freedom by Aria_Lerendeair  (omegaverse fic)

Gabriel Novak is a Class-A Alpha asshole and Sam Winchester wants nothing to do with him, especially after that interview! Except then, he maybe finds out a few things about Gabriel Novak that make him hate him a little less, and hey, maybe some of that bondage stuff sounds interesting…

Golden Shades of Freedom by Aria_Lerendeair (PART 2)

After the world finds out about their relationship, Sam settles into something semi-normal, with Gabriel. The paparazzi are desperate for something, but Sam is, well. Happier than he expected to be, dating an asshole like Gabriel. That, of course, is when the invitation from Gabriel’s family had come for the summer. Sam agrees to go, only if he can bring Dean with him. A few uncomfortable family revelations and one epic fight later, Sam’s left wondering if Gabriel actually is his happily ever after.

...

Sam x Ruby (and side-Destiel)

Job & Family by TigerLilyNoh

After Dean's death (at the end of season 3), Sam and Ruby begin hunting down Lilith. Without Dean by his side, Sam finds the world of hunting to not be as black and white as he once thought. He just wants to get closure and move on with life, but outside forces aren't making that so easy. By the time the brothers reunite, Sam is a very different person than he used to be.

The battle for Hell, Heaven, and the Apocalypse begins. In these crazy times, the boys find themselves with new enemies, allies, and bedfellows.

...

Sam and/or Dean x Reader

@negans-lucille-tblr​ is a great writer on Tumblr. I tried making a list of all the series I’d recommend and then realized I was just writing her entire Supernatural masterlist so here’s the link to her actual masterlist.

@winchest09​ is also a great writer. Haven’t read her entire masterlist but her Life for Rent series is amazing.

...

BBC SHERLOCK

Johnlock

The Gilded Cage by BeautifulFiction (omegaverse fic)

In a world where Omegas are the property of the elite Alphas, locked away and treasured by those wealthy enough to buy them, John never questioned his flatmate's secondary gender. Sherlock Holmes was an Alpha through-and through.

Wasn't he?

A chance discovery turns the world on its head, and John is left grappling to come to terms with Sherlock's past as events conspire to threaten their future. 

…

The Stars Move Still by BeautifulFiction

“What could I want so desperately that would make me sell my soul? What could possibly compel me to surrender the part of myself that makes me who I am: the source of my magic, my self-control, everything?"

...

BDSM (aka, thousands of words of pure filth. porn with plot if you squint.)

various pairings between Sherlock, Greg, John, Mycroft, Molly, and Eurus. (Molly and Eurus are non-con relationships)

Something Extraordinary by sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr

In a Dom/sub world, Dom!John and sub!Mycroft have found each other as have Dom!Sherlock and sub!Greg. This is their story.

…

Things Unwanted by sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr

sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr

This series contains variations on non-con/dub-con scenarios, most of which involve abduction and/or imprisonment of one form or another.

…

The Detective, His Doctor, His Brother, and His DCI by sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr

This is the first fic where The Detective and the Doctor and The British Government and the DI come together here.

...

Fics of the Void (aka very dark fics, non-con is a given)

Wincest

A Threefold Path to Redemption by rei_c

Sam finds a way to keep Dean from going to hell: he'll go in his brother's place. He knows it's going to be bad and that he'll emerge changed. He never knew how much.

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Suite!verse by leonidaslion

This is how the world ends, this is how the world ends, this is how the world ends…

...

Sastiel

Like a Nail to a Cross by azazelsocks (unfinished but still posting)

“I want what any god wants,” Castiel said. “I want you. Your life, your soul, your devotion. Everything you have to give belongs to me, your God. In exchange, your family will be safe.”

There really was no other answer. “I agree,” Sam said.

The new God orders the Winchesters to kneel or be destroyed, and Sam, as always, will do anything to save his brother.

...

Sam and Dean-centric, no ships

Semper Familia by KatZen

When his dad comes back into the clearing with a scrawny kid he's just bought in tow, Dean isn't surprised. He knows Lilim aren't human, that they're creatures, like witches or wendigo.

But the kid that John's got by the arm, who's pulled as far away from Dean's dad as possible without actually trying to get his arm back, the kid whose eyes don't leave John and are bright with fear, the kid who looks like he hasn't eaten in a couple of days and is obviously favoring his left leg...

This kid looks an awful lot like a person. And what's more, he's the same age Sammy would have been.

...

LOKI

Loki/OC

Banditry by LoquaciousQuibbler (unfinished but still posting)

Noir, a thief living on the streets of Asgard, didn't realize it was Prince Loki she had pickpocketed. Call it a happy coincidence. She's immediately charmed by him, but how could a thief get her hands on the key to the prince's heart? Oh, no need. She's pretty handy with a lock pick.

...

shameless self promotion

LOKI | no ships

Stories of Innocence

A collection of short stories (five chapters or less) about Loki's youth. For those people who have a sudden craving for when Loki was happy and before Odin happened.

...

The End

The opposite end of the spectrum; where my Stories of Innocence are of young Thor and Loki, these are older Thor and Loki stories. They are part of the MCU and are based on events from those movies. Warning: lots of feels (I made myself almost cry for a character I dislike because of what I wrote).

...

BBC SHERLOCK | Johnlock

Loving a Married Man

I seem to love to make myself cry. A small collection of Sherlock feels stories. Warning: may make you cry.

...

SUPERNATURAL | Boyking!Sam / Sastiel 

Prompt Fight | on ao3

A collection of boyking!Sam short stories written in accordance to prompts given.

[shield-maiden-of-sherwood]

Author Interview

Thanks  to the awesome @schattengerissen​ for the tag! :)  Name: Ana (No relation to my Warden OC. Her full name is Analise, Ana for short. I am just Ana. Not short for anything). 

Fandoms: This has changed over time. I’ve written for the WWE, Robin Hood BBC and Dragon Age fandoms so far, Dragon Age and Robin Hood BBC being the most recent. WWE fanfiction is how I started writing though.

Where You Post: AO3, FF.Net, Wattpad

Most Popular One-Shot:  Views wise - I’m Yours (Dragon age).  Comments/review/favorite wise - Homecoming (WWE)

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story:   

Views-wise: 

                      - (Of all time)    My Big Fat FAKE Wedding                      - (Dragon Age)    Forgotten

Comment/review/favorite-wise:

                     - (Of all time)    My Big Fat FAKE Wedding                     - (Dragon Age)    Forgotten

Favorite Story You Wrote:  

                     - (Of all time)    My Big Fat FAKE Wedding  &  Betrayal  because they were two stories that allowed me to basically make up everything as I went and had the most in-depth storylines involved.                     - (Dragon Age)     Fated  because it was the second story I started writing based off a video game. In Forgotten, I was sticking way too close to the actual gameplay rather than creating an actual story of my own and incorporating pieces from the games. With Fated, I learned how to do my own thing while also sticking to the main lore of the universe.

Story You Were Nervous to Post:  EVERY. SINGLE. ONE.  You never really know how your stories are going to perceived or liked by readers and it’s nerve-racking to pour your time, heart and soul into something you love and then have it be completely hated or have people find it not interesting at all. 

How You Choose Your Titles: Depends on the series. With my WWE stories, I typically named the stories off the main idea. My Big Fat FAKE Wedding was about the MC faking an engagement to her best friend to get a title shot. Dream Come True had to do with the MC dreaming of making it into the WWE and finding the love of her life.  

With my Robin Hood BBC series, I wanted to keep the title short and give readers and idea of what the book was about. Betrayal is about the MC and those she cares about being betrayed. Vengeance is about the MC seeking out Vengeance and Risen is about the MC and her friends rising up from all the betrayal and rising above all the newfound adversity in the wake of their vengeance. 

With my Dragon Age series, I decided to stick with the simple names with the main theme in mind and also wanted all the titles to start with F. No real reason, just happened that way. From Ostwick With Love, Fated, Foregone, Fallen, Forgotten, Forsaken.

Complete:  13 stories (may be more but only ones I’m finding right now)

                       - 11 one-shots ( almost all WWE, 2 song fics, and 1 Dragon age)                       -  1 Robin Hood BBC

                      -  1 WWE

Incomplete:  A lot, lol. I currently have at least 5 stories in progress, maybe 3 or so on-hold and quite a few stories I lost interest in writing and just abandoned.

Do You Outline?  Sometimes. Sometimes I have a lot of ideas for stories but get overwhelmed since I’m unsure how to incorporate them into the chapters. Outlining sometimes helps me at least get an idea for how things should play out.

Coming Soon/Not Yet Started:  I have whole series and also a lot of upcoming installments to current series. 

For my Robin Hood BBC series, Risen is the last book in the trilogy but I’m still working on book 2, Vengeance. 

For my Dragon Age Series, there’s multiple books in the series along with mini-spin-offs already in progress. However, the books that are coming soon are Foregone, Fallen, and Forsaken.

Do You Accept Prompts?  Sometimes! Due to some stuff I’m dealing with at work and with my mental health, my inspiration and motivation tend to be pretty low but every so often, I will try my hand at prompts. Feel free to send them to me!  They may even spark something for current stories! :)

Upcoming Story You Are Most Excited to Write: 

Foregone and Risen. 

Foregone because it’s book 3 in my Heroes of Thedas Series and part 2 for Ana Cousland’s story. Fated is book two and basically sets the basis and shows the development of Ana’s character. Foregone is a darker and somewhat different take on the events from Fated. Ana is thrown back in time and relives the Battle of Ostagar and everything all over again and she uses her previous knowledge and learned skills from the first time. She gets to remeet Alistair for the first time which is difficult for her since the last time they were together, they were head over heels in love and planning a future and now he has no idea who she is. It’s a very interesting perspective that I’m excited to write! Risen on the other hand is part of my Shadow Hunters Trilogy  from the Robin Hood BBC fandom. It’s the final installment. Eva and Robin are reunited, Delvin is dead, Isaac is married. Everybody’s lives are basically on the rise but they find out that their king, King Richard the Lionhearted is ALIVE! It’s a crossover with Assassin’s Creed and basically Robin Hood, his gang, the Shadow Hunters (assassins) and everybody gears up and reaches out to Altair and the Brotherhood for help in taking down King John. It’s gonna be awesome. I tag (no pressure): @mediaeval-thotte, @enchantment1385, @ladyinquisidork, @andrastini, @ladycremecaramel and whoever else wants to do this! 

[writteninsunshine]

Step Into The Dark - Adam-Centric - NSFW

Title: Step Into The Dark Author: Donnie Fandom: Saw/Insidious Setting: The Bathroom Pairing: None Characters: Adam Faulkner, Lawrence Gordon, Zep Hindle, John Kramer, Specs (Insidious), Tucker (Insidious), David (Saw .5), OC: Matthew Faulkner, OC: Lukas Radford-Faulkner Genre: Angst/Horror Rating: M Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 2006 Type of Work: One-Shot Status: Complete Warnings: Canon Character Death, Hallucinations, Sensory Deprivation, Adam Dying, AU - Canon Divergent, Adam just starves to death here, Vent Disclaimer: I don’t own anything except Matt and Lukas. Summary: Adam would have accepted anything to dull the pain, even death. AN: Lol just have to say this before I get into the meat of it, I checked, and 2006 was the original word count for this. 2006 was the release year for Saw III. I just thought that was funny. xD So… On to the real thing here. I’ve been doing not very good and really needed to torture Adam, I guess. I don’t usually write his death, or him being dead or whatever, but I guess I needed to vent pretty badly. I hope you guys enjoy! Edited by my friend, Griff, because I couldn’t do it myself.

Bye Bye Man/Insidious/Saw Fic Masterlist Step Into The Dark ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ While Adam was used to the clawing beast in his stomach, this was a new low for him. Dying in the dark, waiting for something that wasn’t coming. Lawrence had lied to him, and all he could hear was I wouldn’t lie to you. over and over again in his head. An endless loop, sometimes in slow-motion as if he could pull every syllable from Lawrence’s filthy, lying lips if he tried hard enough, and it was growing so old. The last thing he remembered seeing were those grotesquely bright blue eyes. They had been so handsome before the blood loss; it had made the incandescent fire in them scorch him, before leaving him to rot.

It took too much effort to be angry anymore. It took too much effort to even open his eyes, and he’d given up on trying to move his right shoulder at all. There was no escape this time, no way to duck under the responsibility and run. His own cowardice had landed him in the one place he couldn’t seem to leave. Even the acrid scent of his dead cellmate and the stench of shit didn’t register anymore. He had heard of the term ‘nose-blind’, but this was probably to a rather crazy degree. Old-Lady-With-Twenty-Cats crazy. Sunlight was a vague memory, something he couldn’t quite grasp anymore, and he yearned for one more sunrise. In his restless dreams he saw his family, his father’s crooked grin - passed to all of his sons, Lukas’ inability to stick to one person, David’s sardonic attitude, Specs’ nerd culture. They welcomed him back, Matt constantly babying him, much to his siblings’ chagrin, and even Lukas was being kind. That was probably the biggest tell that it was a desperate fantasy. Another bout of stomach acid shredded his throat as it leaked out of his mouth, and he didn’t have it in him to even move. Barfing on his shirt was something that, last month, would have been alcohol-induced. Here, he was so used to tasting acid and feeling sick that he couldn’t imagine ever drinking booze again. With his head pounding and his eyes, adjusted to the dark enough to see the vague shapes of the fixtures, pulsing, he closed them carefully, watching the spinning dots behind his eyes like an in-flight movie. When had his life become so bad that he wished for his shithole apartment, that he missed the days that he couldn’t eat because he didn’t have the money? Having the option sounded like it would be better than this. How long had he been down here? It could have been three hours or three days. That time was spent either pleading with God or hating him because that had always worked for other people. It wasn’t like he had access to anything else, either. The tap didn’t run, not anymore. Even the ticking of the clock had stopped at some point, leaving him in the dark in deafening silence. It figured that he wouldn’t be allowed to count the seconds by to try haphazardly to keep time. Worse than that, though, was when he could hear things. Little scampering feet in the darkness. They had to belong to rats, mice, things of that ilk, and if Adam knew these New York sewer lines, he’d be feeding mammoth rats before the day was out. It did enough to terrify him into stiffening until his shoulder quaked, but nothing ever ventured close enough to touch him. Maybe in his sleep, emboldened by his steady breathing, but never when he heard them when he was awake. Beady eyes in the darkness watched him, mocked him with their ability to come and go as they pleased. Rustling the chain did well enough to scare them off, and it was usually both a gift and a curse when he finally decided to move his leg. Restriction made comfort a far cry in any position, but even less so now that it felt like his ass had been melded with the broken tile beneath himself. Sometimes, he humored himself; which of them was really worse off, after all? At least Adam had both of his feet, the evidence was on the other side of the room. It was a poor claim to happiness when seconds later his traitorous brain replied with, But he has his freedom. That was, if Lawrence had managed to crawl to safety. For all Adam knew, Zep wasn’t the only corpse he shared a catacomb with. Anything beyond the bathroom was a mystery, and he’d go so far as to say that anything in the bathroom out of reach was a best guess, at this point. It was almost impossible to even tell which of Zep’s feet he had had to kick away from himself at first. Once the door was closed and he was, rather suddenly, left with the inability to take anything for granted, he took everything in his general vicinity for some semblance of safety. For a while, he had thought it was a better use of his time to try and find the key, to lay in the bathtub instead of on the floor. The less strength he had in his arms and legs to lift himself, however, meant he had wanted to get up and down less. Eventually, he parked back against the floor, and he wasn’t sure he’d moved much in the last millennia. He was a fixture of this bathroom, like the tub, the clock, Zep’s lifeless corpse. Sometimes he wondered if he’d been dead this whole time, if he wasn’t already gone and his soul hadn’t left, hadn’t been given the chance or the option to leave. Was this Hell? The question had crossed his mind on a few occasions, but he never truly entertained it. If nothing else, leaving the thought open-ended meant that there was a chance that this mind-numbing loneliness would leave, that the impending doom he felt looming all around him could end. Even if he didn’t live, which was looking like the only option, death would be a welcome reprieve. What had he ever done to deserve this? He supposed starving to death in a shithole you could leave wasn’t much better than starving to death in one you couldn’t, but at least he’d been able to try and change his situation before. That was his mistake, he mused absently, giving a breathless, mirthless chuckle. His only sin had been living, trying to survive. Had he gone back to his dad’s two-bit trailer and scraped up his pride off the floor for dinner instead, maybe this wouldn’t have happened to him. Hell, Lukas was better off than he was, and the man was a walking medicine cabinet if you were paying high enough. Why wasn’t Lukas tested? Or, maybe he had been. That Jigsaw guy was intent on cleaning up the under crust, and Lukas was as slimy as they came. Unbeknownst to him, David had been a player in his own game, just the same as he was, except for the thorny issue of him being the triplet that lived. David’s survival was the only thing holding Matt together, who pleaded and threatened God in equal measure to have his son returned to him. Much like an unimpressed Customer Service employee, God had deigned to do nothing but let him rant, so far. It almost hurt more that his dad might be holding out hope that he’d come out of this, but he would say it was a close second. This hurt like Hell. Whatever his stomach was saying, he’d almost forgotten the translation. Pain, sure, it hurt, but it always hurt. No matter how much writhing and pitching it did, it melted in with everything else that wore on him. Sleep was nonexistent for him, but there was occasionally a lull in the constant pounding of his head. Were his eyes ever even open, anymore? He could make out vague shapes but it didn’t really seem much different from when he closed his eyes again. A sudden rush of light plagued his tired eyes, and he blinked awake, lower jaw quivering slightly. “Adam, come on.” Lukas cried, and the eye roll could be heard in his voice as he slammed his elbow into the table, “Dad says we can’t eat if you don’t get your ass in gear, he’s gonna starve all of us because of you, lazy assh--” “Shut it, Lukas, don’t you have a ballet thing to be at for daughter number twelve?” Matt’s voice cut in, playful and sharp as a tack, and Adam felt a smile working onto his face. It turned to a full-on grin when his father could be heard smacking Lukas’ shoulder, “You watch your mouth. I’m your father.” “Pretty sure Adam’s the only one that matters to you. Davey and I’ll just have to go hungry.” “David’s a good kid, he can have as much KFC as he wants, too.” “KFC?” Adam heard himself before he could register that he’d spoken. His voice didn’t sound broken, it didn’t sound fractured or even quiet, it was just how it used to be. “The grilled shit?” “Yeah!” Lukas piped up again, peeking around the wall a little to give Adam a disapproving frown, “With mashed potatoes, macaroni, coleslaw, and biscuits. Get in here or I’m going to eat everything but the fucking slaw.” “You will not.” Matt snapped, before his voice turned soft and coaxing, “Adam, come on, baby boy. Got all your favorites.” “You did not,” Adam found himself giggling, elated at the idea that anyone would actually like coleslaw, “You got coleslaw, and not extra Mac.” “I know, kiddo, that’s the thing I got me that I know you brats won’t eat. Except maybe Tucker.” “Tucker eats coleslaw.” Specs supplied, already dishing out his plate of mashed potatoes, gravy and a single drumstick. “But he eats almost anything.” The mammoth of a man sat with his family around the coffee table in the dingy trailer he grew up in, on the floor because all of the chairs were too tall for him to still reach the table. Everyone was staring, expectant, as Adam shuffled in place in the hallway that lead to the bedrooms, biting his lip and feeling out of place. Was this even his family anymore? “Adam,” Matt’s tone took on a sugary sweet tone that had him wary, knowing he had probably done something wrong, “Come on, come eat. I know you’ve been struggling. You’re not in trouble, I’m your dad, I can do stuff like this for you guys now and again, even if you’re grown. Especially because you’re grown.” Acceptance seemed to wash over him in waves. Each step he took onto the thin carpet didn’t feel like anything, but he was moving forward, taking a spot between David and Specs on the couch. David offered a one-armed half-hug, and Specs barely tilted his head before demolishing his drumstick. Lukas shot him an expectant look but dug into the breast he’d pilfered from the bucket, eating enough that when Matt noticed, he didn’t do anything more than glare. “You know that’s--” “Adam’s, I know, I get it. We all know he’s your favorite.” Lukas groaned, “It’s weird to pick a favorite identical triplet but whatever.” “I don’t play fav--” “Dad,” Specs paused in his eating to look up, “You do, and it’s okay.” There was something in Adam’s hands. It didn’t feel like the greasy, delicious grilled chicken wing he’d picked up, it was soft, firm and bony. Cold, maybe, or just cool. It didn’t seem quite right, but he couldn’t exactly see anything wrong with it. Warmth blanketed his face as he took a bite, and something seemed to give. With a final sigh, everything melted away into nothingness, and he finally felt at peace. Matt never would get to see his son again without looking into the faces of the remaining triplets. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ AN: I forget why I started this, but this happened even more because of some shit happening in my life right now and I’m just…. Trying to keep going. This sort of helped but I’m also more anxious, now.

[silentauroriamthereal]

This seems like fun! Thanks for the tag, @swissmissing! 

1. AO3 handle: SilentAuror

2. Ships I write: Johnlock. Oh, and maybe a touch of Freebatch. In the past I wrote a crapton of Harry/Draco and a few other scattered ships hither and thither, but these days it’s pretty much pure Johnlock over here. 

3. Ships I read: I don’t read much fanfic, but if I do, it’s definitely Johnlock! 

4. When I started writing: I don’t remember my first piece of fiction ever, but it was definitely sometime in childhood! My first fanfic was posted in 2002, I believe! 

5. First fic I wrote: In this fandom? Resurrection. 

6. Favorite fic I wrote: I really can’t say! 

7. Hardest fic I wrote: Again, I really can’t say. Different stories have been hard for different reasons. Against the Rest of the World comes to mind, just for sheer length and complexity & detail of plot, but Scars was very different to write for the emotional and physical abuse it contains. Some of the angst-heavy stories I’ve written have practically given me ulcers. Sometimes I make the cases so complicated that I have to keep a whole separate file just on case notes (witness The Bells of King’s College, which features not just six cold cases, but they all had to be related to: a) the murderer (obviously), b) each other, and c) a potential seventh victim, and d) Mary!). Bridging the Ravine features something like 21 named OCs, about 8 of whom have fairly major parts. And The Final Proof was hard as hell to write because it made me cry throughout, lol. Along with basically 98% of the people who have read it, which was sort of the point, but there you go. :P (See warnings!!!!!) 

8. Most research-intensive fic I wrote: That has to be a toss-up between Against the Rest of the World for the location research specifically, and Scars, for which I did extensive research (including interviewing three separate therapists who specialize in female->male abuse and gaslighting). 

9. Fic that is most dear to me: This is like asking me to pick a favourite among my children! Of which I now have 84 in this fandom alone! Really can’t say! 

10. Favourite trope to write: I mostly avoid actively writing tropes, though I’ve unapologetically used fake-couple-for-a-case twice now (once where it goes quite well for them (Bridging the Ravine) and once where it goes quite badly for them (The Bells of King’s College)), and smaller tropes like sexual coaching (Isosceles), bed-sharing (numerous), and then apparently I’ve used some accidentally, such as amnesia (The Wisteria Tree). Lol. 

11. Something I wouldn’t write: An unhappy or non-Johnlock ending, a version of Mary that doesn’t line up with her actual canon behaviour, fluffy familial sitcom that’s wholly out of character (which isn’t to say that parentlock can’t be IC, but it’s a stretch to make it fit with these two particular men, IMO). 

12. Favourite scene I ever wrote: I’ve just written too many to choose only one. :/ Sorry, I keep saying this! 

13. Where I get my inspiration: From Moftiss’ resolute determination to prevent these two from having an honest, direct, and complete conversation about their relationship, their history, and their feelings. I WILL make them talk, damn it! And then kiss. Like a lot. :) 

14. Hardest scene I ever wrote: There’s a rape scene in chapter 3 of Scars. I avoided writing it for days. Then, once I finished it, I remember literally just closing my laptop, standing up, putting on my shoes, and walking out of my apartment to clear my head. 

15. Favourite characterisation I wrote: Oooh. Okay, I’m giving this one to Sherlock in Against the Rest of the World, specifically because it’s told in first person, which means that I spent four solid months living inside this version of his head, and I found it very difficult to not be in it once the story came to its eventual finish!

In this fandom, I’ve now written in the POVs of 12 different characters (not counting the “characters” of Ben and Martin in my four Freebatch fics), and I’ve loved writing every single one of them, even if I don’t necessarily love the character themselves! The breakdown goes like this, though for the last two, it’s only single chapters/parts of stories, never a full stand-alone story: Sherlock (36 times, including both novels), John (37 times), Mycroft (3 times), Lestrade (3 times), Mary (3 times), Molly (twice), Rose (Rosie at age 19, once), Janine (once), Ella (once), Vee (Mummy) Holmes (once), Mrs Hudson (once), and Sally Donovan (once). 

My current project is one of my rare mixed-POV stories, heavily John-POV, but with contribution scenes from Sherlock, Ella, and Molly. 

16. Sequel I would write, if I had the chance: I’m actually somewhat planning, pending my muses’ inspiration and general whims, a sequel to Isosceles, where Sherlock and John visit Corey Graham in LA. :)

17. Story I want to write, but I don’t think people would enjoy reading: It’s so masochistic, but I never let that stop me! :P I did suppress my urge to write my first Freebatch fic (The A.G.R.A Complex) for about eight months before finally giving in. I fully expected to be shot for writing Scars, and I’m somewhat expecting people to hate my current project, but if the muses demand it, then I write it. What can you do. :P

18. A line from a WIP: I never do lines. It’ll have to be a snippet, lol. Not to channel Culverton Smith or anything... 

Ella thinks of the long story Sherlock told her one stormy afternoon only a few weeks ago, during one of the appointments she cannot, by dint of professional vow, acknowledge to John that are happening, and of the fact that Sherlock admitted that he’s never yet found a way to casually bring up the snipers in conversation with John, his hesitancy to rock the boat, the surface stability they’ve seemingly found in the wake of the events with Sherlock’s unbalanced sister. She sighs inwardly, but keeps her expression neutral. “You’re still angry about that,” she says. It isn’t a question; after all, she knows John rather well by this point.

John frowns, but nods, still looking down.

“And how has that anger come out?” Ella asks, conscious to keep her tone even. 

John’s mouth opens, his breath drawing in sharply and stopping in his chest.

19. A recent comment on a story that made me smile: That someone commented at all makes me smile! Unless it’s overt hate, I guess. :P 

20. A discontinued work I would love to finish: I have never, in my 2.1+ million words of Sherlock fiction, or 1.5 words of HP fiction, not finished a story that I started. 

21. Fic writers I admire: Honestly, for these last two, I just don’t read enough to be able to comment well on this! I also know that if I list anyone, I’ll leave out someone who really, really should be mentioned. I’ll just say this: anyone who is actively working at the craft of writing and putting themselves out there deserves all the praise and admiration in the world. Same goes for artists! You’re putting a naked little piece of your soul out there for the world to see, criticize, hopefully (but not necessarily) love, and that is SO brave! So the truest answer here is: all of you! 

22. A story I recommend: Same answer as above! I would recommend @swissmissficrecs for recs! 

Tagging: anyone who reads this post and writes. You’re tagged. :)