#john should get to be scary and put the fear of god (him) into that hag. he deserves it.

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

so we're all in agreement that for all of his threatening to use it as leverage the first situation john is actually using that astral projection thing in is gonna be an emergency defend-the-body failsafe right

[auspicioustidings]

Ae Fond Kiss - Part 7

My Heart's in the Highlands

Summary: You speak with your kid and establish a new normal. A conversation is had with Johnny. Words: 2.6k TWs: mention of miscarriage

Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

The drive home was silent. Your mind was a mess but you tried to slow down your racing thoughts and put your parent head on. It was so hard right now to be a parent when you felt like an out of control child. You tried to run through a script in your mind, a way to explain what was going on to Joey without bringing your own bitterness into it. 

The kid in question seemed no more willing to have the conversation than you were. He was staring out the window. He seemed exhausted. You could understand that, the emotional gauntlet he had been going through with his parents not even there to help… God you felt awful. 

“...let’s get the mega-ultra sundae” you decided, indicating to turn off towards the ice-cream parlour.

“That’s for like 20 people. Luna from school said her brothers tried to eat it all and they threw up.”

“How many brothers does she have again?”

“Four. One of them does football at uni, two are on the high school team and the last one just won a boxing competition.”

“Well I guess we’re about to embarrass Luna’s brothers.”

You glanced over to him and he looked to you, both with tentative smiles. This was still your kid, you were still his mother, and you were going to eat enough ice-cream that you’d both spend the evening curled up on the sofa feeling sick and watching bad movies. You didn’t know how you ever got so lucky. You could strangle both of his dads, but you could never not appreciate the hand they had in this brilliant boy. 

While you immediately knew the mega-ultra sundae was a mistake when the server struggled to put it on the table due to the weight, you both grinned anyway. The first few spoonfuls you just took the time to think about what to say. 

“Did you really think he was dead?” Joe asked, carefully digging for marshmallows.

“We both did, me and your dad. I think… I think uncle John might have known he wasn’t and I’m very angry with him over it” you answered, aiming for complete honesty. 

“Was the stuff you said about him true?”

You thought on that while you took a mouthful of what you had thought was mostly ice cream but was almost 100% whipped cream. You had told Joe all about Johnny even if you lied about just what he was to him. You had told him how brave he was, how loving. How when he got really excited you and Simon could barely understand half the words that came out of his mouth. You’d told him about his temper, how he would explode and then after need to nap it off before profusely apologising. And God was he clever even if he seemed like a big dumb idiot sometimes. He could make an explosive out of anything and on New Years he usually did. 

“Yeah. We never lied about the kind of man he was, just… it felt scary to tell you he was your father. We should have told you. We shouldn’t have hidden it because we were scared about what you might think.”

“What would I think?”

You could still hear Johnny yelling in your head. You were afraid Joe would think what he did, that you loving Simon even when you thought he was dead was a betrayal. Although now you knew that you had been betrayed it felt like such a stupid fear.

“I didn’t want you to think of your dad differently because he wasn’t your birth father. And I… for some people me falling in love with Johnny’s best friend after he died was wrong. I just didn’t want you to think that.”

Joey thought on that for a while as he kept working on the sundae which didn’t seem like it had decreased in volume at all. You hated putting all of this on a 9 year old. He should be telling you all about the football game and explaining again how he could build a computer in Minecraft, not considering how he felt about finding out a war hero whose death was faked by the military was his father. God you hoped Kyle hadn’t known.

“I think it’s ok” he said eventually as he chewed through a chunk of meringue. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s pretty cool that I have another dad. Does he always sound like that? Did he really take on a whole town of bad guys and win with dad?”

You shoved another spoonful in your mouth even though you were feeling a little nauseous because if you didn’t try and distract yourself with something you’d cry. He was supposed to yell at you, he was supposed to be mad and turn off his hearing aids so he couldn’t listen to your apologies. But that wasn’t the kid you and Simon had raised. Yeah he could get angry, but he was so good at cooling off and moving on and fixing the issue. 

So you told him all about Johnny but this time in present tense, you both gave the mega-ultra sundae your best shot and then you ran to the bathroom as soon as you got home to throw up which your kid did not let you live down as you watched a bunch of superhero movies. 

–

You didn’t think anyone but you three could pull it off, but somehow life went on. Simon and Johnny arranged a meeting with you and it was decided who would do what. School runs were completely off your plate, they’d share that between them and it seemed like a good way to have J be able to get to know his biological father in small, casual chunks. 

You did offer to let them stay in the guest room, but Simon could read you well enough to know that right now you really did not want to be around them and you were offering for the sake of keeping the peace, so he said no. He was staying in an airbnb nearby and Johnny to your surprise outright bought himself a flat the second week. Not really your business, but part of you felt your heart break that he had just accepted so quickly that you’d be separate for the rest of your lives. 

You never asked about what was going on with the two of them. Maybe it was cowardly, but you didn’t want to know. If they were together, then it would feel like you were always just the second choice and now they would be happy without you. If they weren’t, then it would feel like they were only holding back out of their love and respect for you which was no doubt making them miserable. Did you want them to be miserable? You didn’t know, the answer changed depending on the time of day.

You’d had a dream this morning of the two of them together, had woken up wet and needy and had let your hand wander between your legs to finish yourself off to the fantasy of it. Afterwards you promptly threw up and spent the rest of the day in bed feeling awful until J got back from football practice. Johnny had taken him and they were laughing together. He had taken one look at you and invited himself in, saying he’d order take away and get Joe to bed after dinner so you should just relax. You felt too ill and exhausted to really argue.

Joe was in bed and you were tidying away the leftovers when Johnny came back downstairs into the kitchen. It was the first time the two of you had been alone together. 

“Sorry, you used tae love cashews” he said.

“I still do. The place is usually really good as well, just really couldn’t stomach them today” you replied, frowning at the container as you put it away because it really had been sort of gross but Joey had tried some and said he’d eat the leftovers. 

“I can go grab something from the shops if ye want? Ye didnae eat an awful lot.”

You closed the fridge and raised an eyebrow at him. 

“..I’m naw Senga’ing!” he protested, knowing that raised eyebrow well.

“You’re Senga’ing a little.”

“Naw I’m not!”

“I dunno Johnny, if it worries like a Senga and fusses like a Senga…”

He threw a tea towel at you and you laughed. Senga was your old neighbour's very moody hen who treated the two of you like unruly chicks whenever you were out the back garden. It was sort of comforting to know the old Johnny from nearly a decade ago was still here, but bittersweet that he wasn’t yours anymore. 

“I…” you started, but trailed off because you didn’t know what you wanted to say.

You had spent weeks with the anger at finding out what had happened being difficult to predict. Sometimes you felt it so intensely, sometimes it faded away. It was all so long ago now. You were a different person. You all were. 

“I shouldnae have… well let’s be honest there’s a hunner things I shouldnae have done, but just going for recently I shouldnae ever have tried tae say it was wrong of ye to marry Simon. Especially naw when I knew myself that he…” he trailed off.

“That he’s easy to fall in love with” you finished for him, hearing almost a tone of commiseration in your voice. 

“Is easy the word?”

“Fair enough. I hated him at the start. Considered breaking things off with you more than once just so I didn’t have to be around him anymore.”

“I broke two of my fingers trying tae break his nose the first month on the task force.”

You gave a dramatic gasp and pointed accusingly at him. 

“And you never told me?! How did I not know this?”

“Cause it’s a pure riddy. Tried tae punch him with his mask on and he didnae feel a fucking thing. Didnae even try get me intae trouble for it either, just ordered me tae go to medical like a pure dick.”

You could imagine how mad that would have made Johnny and you could absolutely imagine how smug Simon would have been about the whole thing. One regret you had was the times you avoided going out with Johnny’s friends because you sort of wished now you had seen them together more. At the time you were young and so sure that Simon Riley was just a misogynistic tosser that you avoided him and you knew now you had probably missed out on so much. Maybe you’d have noticed how they felt about one another had you given him a chance. 

“I wanted to strangle him so much at the start. No clue how it turned into what it did. He didn’t even propose with a ring, just asked if I wanted to get married in the kitchen on a whim.”

Johnny looked horrified on your behalf.

“Absolute roaster! How in the fuck did both of us fall for such a wanker?”

The two of you took a beat to decide how you felt about this all being out in the open and then laughed together until you cried. God it was nice to just laugh about it. You’d never get over what the two of them did a decade ago, not really, but you didn’t want it to turn you bitter. You didn’t want to forget all the good things. And you wanted them both in Joseph’s life, you wanted him to get all of the love and support you knew these men were capable of. 

You wiped away a tear and sighed, leaning on the counter and looking at Johnny with a sort of sad smile. 

“I wish you had just told me how you felt about him. It’s not that you fell in love with him that hurt, it was that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me.”

Fuck, you guessed you knew how Joe felt now. Too scared to tell him the truth because you had imagined the worst of his reaction. 

“I was a shite husband. Naw even just what happened with Si, but all of it. Should never have taken that job without talking tae ye first. All well and good saying it was for your protection, but I should have trusted that ye wouldnae have told anyone, that ye’d have done your part if ye’d agreed tae it. Should never have taken that choice off of you.”

“Why the change of heart now?”

“Guess I’ve done some growing up. Over the last 9 years it’s naw been the soldiers that have been saving the world most of the time, it’s been the civilians. I used tae think I was some big hero just because I wore the uniform, but I was just being an arrogant prick. I hate that I treated ye like ye were less capable of making decisions because ye didnae have a set of fucking epaulettes. Never really deserved ye.”

“I’m sorry that you took it all on yourself. It must have been awful being alone all this time in enemy territory. Look, I’m pissed that you took the job, Price has been laying low because he knows I’m going to boot him in the balls next time I see him, but I know you did it to help people. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry I never told you about… about that night with Simon.”

“I’m so so fucking sorry ye went through that bonnie, I cannae imagine” he said, and you knew he was sincere with the moisture gathering in his eyes. 

It was an old wound for you now, but this was new for him you realised. He hadn’t know until a few weeks ago that Joey may have had an older sibling. Remembering how painful it had been back then before time had healed you, you felt the sudden urge to hug him knowing there was a good chance this was still so raw for him. So you did.

He held you tight and buried his face in your hair like he used to. He smelled almost the same, although there was something a little less wild about him now. How long had it been since he had just been held? 9 years on mission, 9 years of the world on his shoulders. Fuck you almost wished Simon had known, then at least he would have had him to come back to without the complication of the lie between them. 

You stayed like that for a while, just clinging to one another in the kitchen. God you had missed him so damn much. You were just so angry that he had been alive all this time. So much time wasted. So many choices that could have changed things. If he had told you back then how he felt about Simon, what would you have done? If you had told him about the miscarriage, would it have changed things? But it was too late for any of that now. 

So when you broke apart and you took a breath to ask if he’d like to stay over, he beat you to it and said he’d best get going. Probably for the best.

“Why did you buy the place anyway? I thought you hated it down here, heart in the highlands and all that.”

“My heart’s in the highlands, but the highlands was never really about the place, it was about the person there in it with me. But the flat’s also close tae the uni Joe said he wants tae go to. I ken that he’s only little now so he might change his mind, but I wanted it tae be there for him just incase and it’s naw like I cannae buy another place for him if he goes somewhere else.”

You shoved him out of the door before you could go against your own best interests and kiss him.

[yanderecrazysie]

yandere bakugo! purge au? it’s time for the purge and its the perfect time to get his darling

I’ve been watching the Purge show with my little sister and we occasionally just text each other “The Giving is near, the Invisible awaits”. I love the purge movies so much, except the Forever Purge, I just didn’t like that one.

Title: 12 Hours

Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, Bakugou’s scary lol

Summary: 12 hours when every crime is legal but with a twist- if you kidnap someone, they’re yours forever.

“You’re sure everything is locked down?” You asked, biting your lip nervously.

Your boyfriend smiled at you, “State of the art system. There’s nothing to worry about.”

You gave him a smile, but you followed it up with a sigh. You had a lot to worry about. You had gotten a note in the mail, two days before the purge, that read:

Dear (Y/n),

This is a notice that a Level 5 person(s) has been given permission to hold you indefinitely if you are captured during purge hours. We recommend staying inside and taking precautions to protect yourself.

Blessed be our New Founding Fathers,

NFFA Personnel.

Someone had requested permission to kidnap you forever, as long as they captured you on purge night. Who it was, you couldn’t even imagine.

Your house’s defense system was practically a joke. You didn’t have the money to get fancy equipment like everyone else had. That’s why your boyfriend, John, had offered to let you stay with him during purge night.

The thought had crossed your mind that John could be the crazy kidnapper, but you knew that he could have you any time he wanted to, so there wasn’t any point in kidnapping you.

John had an amazing security system. Not as good as, say, the NFFA members had, but still very good. You felt mostly safe to stay with him, but there was still an ounce of fear that wouldn’t go away.

You had looked up what “Level 5” meant and had discovered there were five levels of dangerous people classified for the purge. Level 1 was the lowest and, well, Level 5 was the most dangerous.

You had an extremely dangerous person after you. Who knew what they would do to you after kidnapping you? Maybe they would torture you all year long.

Your boyfriend turned on the TV and, a few moments later, the announcement played.

“This is not a test, this is your Emergency Broadcast System announcing the commencement of the annual purge sanctioned by the U.S. Government. Weapons of class four and lower have been authorized for use during the purge. All other weapons are restricted. 

“Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity and shall not be harmed. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime (including murder) will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Police, fire, and Emergency Medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7:00 a.m. when the purge concludes. 

“Blessed be our new founding fathers and America... A nation reborn. May God be with you all.”

Even through the metal shutters, you could hear the sirens start. Your breath hitched in your throat.

“We’re in for a quiet evening, don’t worry,” John said, putting a comforting arm around your shoulder, “Should we get the wine out?”

“Yes, please,” you said shakily.

Your boyfriend walked over to the cabinets and pulled out a bottle of wine and a couple cups. He poured a generous amount of liquid into both cups and handed you one. You drank all of it in one go.

John laughed and refilled your cup, “It’s only 12 hours. That’s it.”

“12 hours is a long time,” you muttered, “A lot can happen in half a day.”

Ten hours passed uneventfully, the two of you watching the only channel that wasn’t showing highlights of the purge from cameras set up around the country or talking about the history of purging.

On the eleventh hour, someone knocked on the door. You froze in your seat, breath hitching in your throat from horror. Your boyfriend stood up, “It’s okay, no one can get in. I’ll check the front door camera.”

He checked the camera and smiled, “See, they moved o-”

The power went out. 

A beeping sound filled the house and then the scraping of metal as the shutters began to rise. The security system had been disabled and was reversing itself.

Even in the dim light, you could see that your boyfriend had gone pale, messing with the system frantically to try to reset it. 

Finally, he turned to you and said, “Get in the closet. I’ve got a gun and I’ll deal with anyone that comes inside.”

You were crying at that point, but you managed to nod. You ran to the closet and hurriedly closed it behind you. You pulled some clothes down from the rack and tried to use them to cover yourself. There was no lock, so you were absolutely toast if anyone looked inside.

You could hear the door open loudly, as though someone had kicked it open. Your ears strained, listening for any hint that your boyfriend would be okay.

A gunshot rang through the house and you hoped it was from your boyfriend’s gun and not the intruder’s. A loud, husky laugh followed the sound, “Nice try, extra.”

You covered your mouth as the sound of an automatic gun’s famous ratatata followed. You knew John only had a pistol. No doubt your boyfriend had just died. 

“Y/n”, I know you’re in here,” the voice said loudly, almost playfully, “Might as well come out now, so I don’t waste time trying to find you.”

You had less than an hour left. If you could just stall him until the 12 hours were up, maybe you’d make it out alive. 

Your breath hitched again as he came into the bedroom and you closed your eyes.

“Not under the bed. What about the closet?” You could hear the smirk in the intruder’s voice.

The closet door flew open and the clothes were pulled off of you. You looked up helplessly at the wild-haired blonde with blood red eyes as he crouched in front of you. He took your wrist in a crushing grip, grinning at you with victory, and hauled you up off the floor.

“C’mon, we only have one hour to get you home. Had to deal with a lot of shit tonight. But I’m sure your boy toy’s car will help us out, won’t it, baby?” 

You hadn’t made it the whole 12 hours. 

Your life was in his hands.

[thewhumpcaretaker]

Hello! Ciao! Pozdrav! Greeted you in three languages lmfaoo-

So, Santino having a nightmare >:]

What would the nightmare be about? Would it be about his traumas or something else? How would John comfort him, help him to calm down? Aahh so many possibilities with this but I'm curious on your opinions! :P

Have a lovely day! ✨️

Grazie! Merci! Thank you for this ask!

Hmmm, the nightmare could be about a lot of things. Trauma is definitely one of them, and the most likely. It could also be related to one of the phobias that you've talked about in the past - spiders make for some very scary nightmares! But I think I'll write about Santino having a nightmare over the fear of losing John. Maybe he dreams that John has died while trying to protect him.

Sorry this took a while! I decided to make this into another mini fic. It's very sad but hopefully sweet as well. I hope you enjoy! 💙

TW: nightmare, crying, discussion of self-sacrifice, slightly suggestive at the end ;)

John opened his eyes to see the darkness and the vague outlines of their bedroom, a fuzzy but familiar space tinted indigo by the night light on the far wall. Why had he woken up? It was certainly still far from sunrise.

It took him a moment to realize that he was hugging a pillow, not Santino. At some point during the night, Santino had rolled away from him and was facing the wall on the other side of the bed. John could see him twitching slightly and smiled, thinking of the way Dog kicked his feet in his sleep when dreaming about running.

But then he heard a small, whimpering sound, almost a sob. John's mind surged with protectiveness. Should he wake him up? He'd had another long day of work, and needed the sleep, but to leave him in distress was not an option. Holding his breath to keep quiet, he shifted closer, propping himself up on one elbow to get a better look. "Hey," he said softly, but Santino didn't awaken. He just stirred even more restlessly, letting out another shuddering breath that ended at a high pitch.

"John…"

Hearing his own name, John couldn't wait anymore. He put a hand firmly on Santino's shoulder and spoke louder, "Hey. Wake up, baby."

Santino gasped, and the gasping gave way to full-on sobbing as he curled into himself further, awake but still not fully aware. John wrapped his arm over Santino's shaking body and rolled him onto his back, leaning over him. "No, hey. It's okay. I'm here."

"You're…here?" Santino looked up at him in some kind of heartbreaking awe. "Grazie a Dio [thank god], I thought…"

"What?"

"I just…never mind, it's stupid. It was just a bad dream."

"Not stupid." John reached over to switch on the bedside lamp, hoping to chase away any more fear with some light. At that, Santino crossed his arms over this chest, trying to force his breathing back to normal.

"Really, it's fine."

John didn't force him to talk, just lay an arm across his body in a silent offer of comfort. After a stubborn few seconds, Santino unfolded his arms to embrace him, and the tears started again.

"I'm so glad you're alive, John. I dreamed…" he sighed heavily, the sound distorted by lungs still heavy with sadness. "I dreamed that the Camorra shot you. You were gone, and it was - it was my fault…"

John pulled him onto his chest, wrapping the blanket over both of them and holding him as close as possible. "I'm not going anywhere." His voice was a low, protective rumble into the top of Santino's head, and he followed it with a kiss. Santino was really this upset over the thought of his death? It twisted at his heart. "I'm too lucky, having a life with you. Anyone tries to take this away from me, they're dead."

Santino gave a choked laugh.

"I'm serious."

"I know. Just…don't give your life for mine, please. If it comes to that."

John went still. "I…can't promise you that. But I can promise that it wouldn't be your fault."

Santino huffed in frustration, but it was no use to argue. They had talked about this many times. John was there to protect him, and that was that. Even to the death, if need be. Frowning deeply, he ran his hands along John's neck and up to his cheek, as if still trying to convince himself that John was really here.

"Santino. I want to hear you say it. It wouldn't be your fault."

Santino didn't respond at first. "It…" another frustrated sigh. "It wouldn't be my fault. It would be the Camorra's fault, and I'd wipe out everyone who hurt you."

A deep laugh rolled out of John's chest, echoing up through Santino's ribcage. "Good." He kissed him again, on the lips this time.

"I was serious too."

"I know." He stared deeply into Santino's eyes, drinking in the fact that this man loved him enough to grieve for him, to kill for him. That they would each give their lives for the sake of the other. Santino's chin rested on his chest, and he met John's gaze with one that was equally loving.

John became very aware that their legs were tangled together under the blankets.

"Don't think about that anyway," he said. "We're together now. Let's enjoy it." And he switched the lamp back off.

[geeoharee]

Theatre again tonight! Nearly thwarted by the 41 bus, should have known better, that is a terrible route.

Saw a version of Valley Of Fear in a tiny tiny theatre in my old home town. The room's more like a school hall than anything and I went through my usual half-an-act of not being able to look directly at the actors' faces because I was sat too close. But that has nothing to do with whether it was good or not.

It was, I think! At first I thought Watson was being mis-used - he had the most painful-looking limp I've ever seen on a Watson and was doing mainly comic relief stuff, so I was worried they weren't going to fully use him. But then they got into the case (executed by interleaving scenes of the American flashback with scenes of the investigation at Birlstone Manor - everyone playing several characters and moving around the chairs and suitcases that they had for props) and yeah that was just my usual 'Oh No Is Watson Being Wrong Done By' nerves, he was fine.

-- Oh, I just remembered the thing they got horribly wrong here! I don't want it to sound like I was just being horrible about his leg. Yeah, it's the scene where Holmes and Watson and the cop are all in a carriage going to the Manor and Watson has got a bag of sweets from somewhere and is eating them, then Holmes starts maliciously describing the effects of blowing someone's head off with a shotgun and Watson puts his sweet back in the bag. Watson was a med student and then he was a soldier. I would be amazed if it's possible to gross him out at ALL, and a bit of blood and brains certainly isn't going to do it. Anyway, back to the review --

Actually they made some really interesting points about VALL being 'the other Moriarty case'. They stated it was 1895 but also it was 'three years since Watson got married' (What are dates! We just don't know) which allowed for some sneaky "Several times in the last three years, I thought about telling you..." that Moriarty existed. Watson is somewhat put out that Holmes has been fighting a criminal mastermind who explicitly threatened John and Mary and has not, like, mentioned it. Watson threatens to quit, actually. Which means Holmes says '...well if it's our final adventure', with stifled laughter from some quadrants of the audience. And then you get a wonderfully tense 'you can get the train back to London if you want' moment except he even says 'back to Mary'. I like this writer, I really do.

Oh yeah the threat. This was a new bit (Moriarty doesn't have lines in VALL. Okay, he has one.) which I felt was SUPER effective. Holmes says, actually, I did meet this mysterious reclusive murderer once.

Watson: Where was I?! Holmes: [pointed] On your honeymoon.

And then we get the flashback, which is Holmes at an art exhibition (Watson scoffs at this! someone did their reading!), when he's joined in front of a painting (both of them staring out into the audience - Holmes does a lot of that when he's thinking, too, which I really liked) by a softly spoken gentleman with an Irish accent. They make idle conversation for a bit about the painter, who was unhappy. Drank too much. Lived on a clifftop and liked to paint the sea. Like this painting of the sea, which is beautiful, isn't it? The critics thought it was a mistake. The light's coming from two angles. The sun's over there. But he only painted what he saw, the bright stars in the sea, the reflected sparkles of the other light.

"It was his house burning down. And his best friend was killed, and his best friend's wife, too. If only he had looked the other way."

I would NEVER encourage people to give Moriarty more lines, god knows he takes up enough space in the public image of Sherlock Holmes, he turns up in stories he isn't bloody in, but I thought that was marvellous given that it's not really clear why he's in VALL in the first place and if he HAS to be, he might as well be goddamn scary.

Anyway, everyone knows the rest. "I am Birdy Edwards!" was done very well, I thought. The actor who plays Holmes had to be Baldwin because if you make him Edwards it poses logistical problems. And it really got me thinking, I almost want to re-read VALL and see if the parallels they drew are actually there, because Douglas's "death" - Holmes taking one look at his wife and realising she isn't grieving - I mean, that's suggestive. That might give a certain kind of mind an idea about the pre-requisites for successfully faking one's death.

(For god's sake, they have Holmes complaining that Watson snores, and set up a thing about him dozing off on stake-outs to get away with it. I really, really like this writer. And the actor playing Holmes flitted and spun and flung himself on the floor with the best of them. I really want that frock-coat he had on.)

[waterbottlegrey-blog]

You have to understand, Tim didn't do it just for fun. He was careful not to do stuff just because he could, because that was the way to the Tim that Ended the World, and while Mister E was a lunatic, he had a point.

It was- well- it was an. Accident. He was just trying to buy himself some time to do his homework before class, and his Da startled him by shouting him for breakfast, and- Mister E laughed at him. So it couldn't be that bad, right?

Parallel loops of past versions of the universe, alternate pasts, the way you couldn't really change your own present by altering the past- unless where you could- Constantine tried to explain, but he was laughing too hard. Rose gave him a disappointed look, which was worse.

And meanwhile Gotham had the Notebook Man, with his sidekick Robin the Student. And it should be funny, alright, but it wasn't. Because apparently, Batman could make anything pants-shittingly scary.

He'd show up, out of nowhere, a demented image of the most feared teacher you've ever had, demanding you Explain Where You Were Wrong - Tim could just see the red ink on his essay on the branches of government, how did he mix up the legislative and the judicial, anyway? Mr Sweeftly could eviscerate you in text, he could hear him in those five words-

Anyway. Instead of a bat, lurking in the dark, Batman took inspiration from a clumsily thrown notebook Tim had hurled over his shoulder in a tiff, and his gig was now apparently that a man who knew where you went wrong and wanted you to explain yourself was scary. You'd get a chance to argue your case. That sounded even worse, mind games like that. And Robin would play off him, pointing out what the correct thing could be, and they'd destroy people mentally- Gotham had the most reformed criminals per capita in the world. And of suicides.

Constantine didn't believe him about the Bat thing at first, until Tim'd showed him.

And then, after a hasty consultation with Mister M, they decided to just go back again and throw the stupid bat, except then John went:

"Wait, wait-" and now there was this.

To date (sort of) they'd thrown:

Silk Cut fags (Constantine) - 'Breathe Deep' said the Smoke Man, with his sidekick Robin Habit chiming 'It wouldn't hurt to have one," ore some such- employed debilitating gases, and a wast assortment of addiction connected paraphellia - pills, injections, what have you - bit like the Scarecrow bloke, but For Your Own Good type-thing - Gotham Rehab Wayne Foundation branched out across the globe in that one.

A rose (Rose): Flower-Man, and Robin the mourner - undertaker thing, utterly mad, he drove round in a hears and put flower-wreath as a calling card. Poison Ivy was Robin in that one, and gods help you if you upset him, he left criminals in body bags that could only be opened from the outside, or buried alive for the police to dig up, with a wreath of roses to mark the spot- Robin-Ivy would dig them up, it was true. But a hard brush with the concept of death like that- ooof.

And Tim got curious, alright?

A toaster- Breadmaker Man, and his sidekick Robin the Barista, somehow even more deranged than the previous one, with the catchphrase Are You Hungry For Bread or Are you Just Bored? And a frankly terrifying assortment of gadgets that went 'ding.' Criminals could be identified by refusal to eat anything with gluten.

A dead, taxidermied Robin (the bird!):

Bird Man, and Robin the singer. Those two flied, in suits with feather wings so convincing they were though of as metahumans. The Flock of Gotham had four people and Hawk-Girl.

A shoe:

the most bizzare yet. And the coolest. They were dressed chavvy, but cool chavvy, and the gimmick was straight up violence. A really convincing accent to go with it, too. The Gumshoe Man and Robin stole shoes and made you run, and in Gotham, well. Ouch. 'Got Your Running Shoes On?' was a cool catch phase.

Mister M caught up when he was throwing a tennis ball. (Sports Man, and Robin the Tennis Boy. 'Up For a Match, Sport?' PE, but awful. Gotham had the fittest, and most scared, criminals anywhere. Wayne Sports was a juggernaut, and Gothamites featured on the olympics regularly.)

He ended up joining with a thrown sharpened stake, but only once. Because then Mystic Man, and Robin the Fae - fake, of course - Ended up pinning him to a wall with stakes and putting him away for killing people. And it affected Tim, too, because he suddenly had double memories of Bruce being there and asking him 'What if Magic and Monsters Were Real?' and being so good of a mentor that Tim-

He threw a bat at the window next time:

Wrong. It was Batman and there was a Robin, but they had a death theme going on. Apparently it was supposed to be a live bat.

Tim threw that at the window, and wrote the essay. Magic- magic was nothing but trouble, sometimes.

Time travelers have realized that Bruce Wayne will always, without exception, base his crimefighting persona on the first thing to crash into his window on a particular night. Now, they have an ongoing contest to see who can make him adopt the most ridiculous persona.

[xaviergalatis]

Said that hoe can not be mad at her

Makes me sad

Take that lil bitch in a date

They tryna copy my style watch how i jump in the crowd

All that matters is you the one feelin it

Pull up with the drake let the blow hit him

Autotune

How the fuck im flexong like this

When/while I land

Better hide yo bitch before zaza hit that

I just dropped a pill mom don't vacuume

Now every time I press a ecstasy

And now he living in a mental home

Ganging new fans no new hit record

Florida water

If 12 come kicking in my door today, I'll sit in a cell

Cuz' they gon find seven different drugs, and weed in the scale

Sometimes I think that I should quit but I know that's a never

I might go I'm

Herd your

Fuckin n that butch n gettin money

You done for soft

Only rapper from my city riding with switches on em

The AMG outside

Tokyo

These bullets got his head like John f Kennedy

I'm BeastMode, you don't know Mav

Xay

You're man is a goofy

He can get touched

Looking like I rob banks

I was looking at the gra! I don't even like likes

This is not mumble rap. This is murder rap

Headaches a migraine

I pop percs n

I put Louie on my beanie

Smoking on Skittles

You going broke trying keep up with me

My new chain is taller then johnny dang

Neighborhood dealer

Never gave a fuck that's how I got rich

See you in pictures with too many opps

These racks be the reason I walk with a limp

Chrome heart

The outside white the inside brown like Michael Jack

!maybe in 4 5 minutes

The rest of the plan got scrapped when I land

Life sweet when you know the cost

Brooklyn

Pharaoh

Mary denim

Draco

these little rapper bois

Maybach truck

Awful records

Brush teeth

This ain't mumble rap this murder rap

Young skinny nigga with my dick in my hand

!y wrist a surgeon

Vest

I been popping seals

Smoking exotic

Shoot from the neck up

Pipe

Pull up with a stick let it hit

You can't match my energy

He don't even stop to get gas

Stand on that

You can get smoked trying to lil bro me

Group chat

Blown

WHat(ADLIB)

Fire arms on fire arms

With the chainsaw took his brains off

Eat the cake anime

We only shoot from the vest up

Fear of God

You know people gone be talking about us weekly

Lil Uzi but I'm nice now

Barely open up the curtains to the rooms I work in

I'm in the booth with a strap on me right now

My fico score is amazing though

Financial freedom my only hope

Voice inside my head said wet then if they test you

Heat your home like southern California gas

I bought a phone just to Snapchat pics of that wet ass pussy

They didn't see me cuz I was in my other Benz

I heard you stay in a metropolitans home

Who knew would do so much damage the internet wouldn't have the bandwith

I rewrite history I don't care about yesterday

Colosseum floors

At the air port they check all through my bag tell me that it's random

Should have been signed twice

Fuck you pay me

Yeezys on I don't slip

She swallow my kids

Big chop knock a nigga out zapatos

Put my kids on her titty

We only shoot from the neck up

I'm wit lil maceee If I catch a opp I cannot catch a Casey

in the hills like a pop star

Oh she thinks she funny bitch I'm halirous

I got the bad bitch doing !y dance

Fuckin with the mob shit get too scary

Why you rap like that if you ain't been up on a mission

Trigger happy quick to knock em down if he slipping

Eating crepe

You know we do shit out of spite

Future looking bright imma need some Ray-Bans

23 have the game in a gift wrap

Diamonds hit no light

Way befor I thought I get a deal

I hit it once then I hit the dash

My diamonds is wet just like the pool

Zay

Xavier

I didn't even need to use the AK

I really mean it I'm just not recording

Metro

Like Mike

No new friends

I don't check the price

Make my own money so I spent it how I like

Pimp hand

The game

Cashout

No numbers all apps this an encrypted phone

I keep the bread tied

Throwing C's

Said she USD to model for American apparel

Lil mama

Slave ship

Active

I feel like snapping today

Finna hit racks

I know she want to kickki it with me uh huhhh

Red flag

better keep it in your lap if you at that light

Spanish bitch

Nothing less then an FN

Hoe

Government name

Papi

In the home town riding rentals

Carrier woods on my face that's 8 bracket

Fake friends

Running man

Another six months, I'll be unknown

Remember the time that I spilled the cup

Of apple juice in the hall

The i8 I'm in, ain't came with no keys

Top

If I spend money imma go back and work it off

Flipped a one to a five flipped a five to a ten

Get off my dick little bitch

I need somebody and always

The webs from all the spiders

Uh, I don't like no Swisher, I like Grabba Leaf, lil' nigga

I never conquered, rarely came

Sixteen just held such better days

I got little hitters on the block now

Call my Glock the seatbelt the way I click it

I just be shippin' that Za', shippin' that somebody farted,

huh

Drakes ghost writer

This ARP got a red sight

Starts in the roof

Glocks on me and they lethal

Hop in srts and do fruity loops

He can't play big bank

Higher then God

Popped a 10 mg by myself had to relapse

Top friends

Oh, we on that shit too, I used to hit licks too

I see that boy gotta clap em

That one that you love sucks the whole squad

Sippin on muddy everything kid Cudi

Ride around the 212 with the stick on me

Choppa hit his ass make em do flips

I'm in Toronto like I'm cool with the drake

Sup syrup

Shorty

Cutter on me

Hell cat

One mic

I fuckk with Souljah boy

Shoot the shot long range

Try me and get swept

Doing numbers on the phone alone

She need ID she can't get in with out it

Move it to my place

Been a couple years since my child had a job

I ain't trippin', let 'em rest in peace

Ride around the city I don't need a wear a vest

Up pockets sitting in the trap

Fucked with a sick bitch now I got a cold

I'm faded than a hoe

Jump out

I really had them grams before you had a gram

How does it feel when you got no food

I swear these bitches !y mini-mes

Call me John Madden, fuck her in the Aston

Martin dropped the top bitch you know what's happening

I ain't gonna stop smoking on that Mary Jane

Look !e in the eye

Really bout that life

I am not a clone

10 toes

Straight top shelf shit

District the gang end up missing

Smoking hits off tinfoil again

I'm smoking dope in the v

I fuck your hoe for a week

Bitch as hella fat need a ass shot

I always keep a hoe I keep some

My feen bout to nodd off

Ipad

Phone

Ain't gotta lie about schemes

AP on my left wrist

Was it the Kush or the cologne forgot what I put on

Might as well record every thing I say on this

All I do is push the beat I don't write shit

Look how I walk on the beat

It's hard to tell my smoker no when he got 3 ones

We ain't here to make friends

Homie calling asking for visits

Susan bake both caught bodies

How your homie wear a vest but don't stay wit a strap

I beat the boss then text him you gotta eat the loss

My bro said he alright then killed himself why you lie to me

When your man got smoked that was my best blunt

Got the bread let it go like a hostage

I was in the park spray-painting on the platform

Half a mill to perform, I can’t let them fuck that shit up

Plus I love the way my middle name looks when it’s lit up

My psychiatrist got kids that I inspired

Some days I'm in my Yeezys, some days I'm in my Vans

If I knew y'all made plans, I wouldn't have popped the Xans

feel like Pablo when I see me on the news my

She keep pushin' me back, good dick'll do that

I keep a clip

Keep calling my phone bout his bitch

The industry

About to go back in

Coulda ran off the plug

But I kept it real and I showed him love

Bro just jumped out the ride with a mask on, face like he dodging COVID

If we go uptown, gotta hold that (Whoosh)

Wanna fly Dubai tonight? Lastminute.com, I'll book that flight

They gon turn up the AC then charge you for the blankets

Some paid 4-5 serious

it's July, shots get hot like summer heat

Body armor on, warmer in my palm

New project I let dram do it

The lights hit

Black President

How can you call me bro he's not my bro he breaking the code

She cheat I cheat we even

Good hair good body good face

I'm up in all the stores

Braid my wig ASAP tat on my ribs

It seems like r Kelly wet dreams I kept six teens

Countin' up in the Polo socks

Tommy Hilfiger my waistband, ayy I'm fire, I'm fuego (Fuego)

Ferragamo on my belt

Bitch mob

Went to jail for like 500 days

I know lil b he fucked !y bitch too

I might take I case I'm not living straight

I'ma keep selling that crack in

Them females plan on doing me wrong so I grab the thumb out the trojan pack

Met somebody baby mama inside of the VIP

I live fast die young, never take it slow Tell your girl to tell a friend that it's time to go

Yes sir

am nothing like these other niggas coming out this year"

So well spoken man I should have went to Cambridge

Please comprehend I am a Surf Club general

You don’t want be caught in the middle like a center fold

I'm calling your bluff don’t act like you can’t see me dialing

I waited four days, nigga, where y'all at?

I keep my noes as clean as I can

360 Yeezy boosts these ain't Roches

I'm tryna bust down a rollie

You make assumptions again

Middle fingers up

Middle of the function wanna gimme hug

Sippin suryp

MacBook on my arm I ain't got no dell

[127-mile]

Livestream.

Pairing: Jaehyun x gender neutral reader.

Genre: Horror | Angst.

Warnings: Strong language, fear inducing.

Plot: You allowed Johnny to host one of his infamous movie nights at your place, and if the way the movie was filmed is interesting, it starts to look a little too real when Johnny recognizes the car he parked in front of your house. 

Word count: +1.5k.

A/N: This is part of the Cliffhanger collab hosted by @nakamotocore​ | prompt found on @/creativepromptsforwriting. | this is not really scary.

Jaehyun wraps his arms around you, and he puts hin chin on your shoulder, heaving a long desperate sigh. "Why did we think this was a good idea?" he asks and you shrug. "I told you it would be a bad idea to let Johnny have one of his movie nights in our house." you nibble on your lower lip when you see Yuta pushing the coffee table against the wall. "Guys, do you happen to have more blankets?" Haechan asks.

"There are some in the cupboard upstairs." you answer and the young man squeals with delight before sprinting up the stairs. "We have the goods!" Taeyong says as he closes the door behind him, arms filled with snacks and drinks. "Bro, if you drop any of these bottles on the floor, I am going to end you." Jaehyun says and Taeyong shrugs as he puts everything on the ground in the living room.

"Johnny has a bigger television, and a bigger house, why did he even ask in the first place." he mutters and you wish you had an answer to that, but it's Johnny and you stopped trying to understand him a long time ago. "Do not answer any of his calls next month."

"Come on guys, come sit down! I found this incredible movie the other day and I'm sure you'll love it!" Johnny exclaims, and you have no choice but to head for the living room, Jaehyun on your heels. He flops down on the only available armchair and he pulls you on his lap by your wrist. "What are we watching?" Taeil asks from his spot on the ground, eyes half-lidded.

"An horror movie!" Johnny sounds way too excited for what he is about to put everyone through, and you chuckle when Mark whines. "Why do we always have to watch horror movies? I always spend the night trying to protect myself from a creepy serial killer, or from some demon we might have summonded while watching!" even in the dimmed lighted living room, you can see the way his cheeks flush at the laughs that instantly surround him. "Shut up."

"This one is not that scary, I promise." Johnny says as he sits down next to him, either to comfort him during a jump scare, or to scare him even more when he least expects it.

Johnny starts the movie, and at first, it is incredibly hard to focus on whatever is happening on the screen with Jaehyun's hands playing with the hem of your hoodie, his cold fingertips brushing against the skin of your stomach. "Stop it!" you whisper, slapping his hands away, only for him to grin. "Stop talking, I'm trying to watch the movie." he adds in a low voice. Little shit, you think.

"This is boring." Haechan mumbles, and you unfortunately have to agree with him. Usually, 20 minutes in a movie is enough for you to have your dose of hemoglobin for the year, but this time, nothing really happens. The way the camera is used makes it looks like some sort of livestream, and yes, the point of view is interesting, but there is nothing to see but the street the character is walking in.

"Were you trying to bore us to death with this movie?" you ask, and Johnny shakes his head. "I don't understand, this is not even the movie I watched the other day. I probably got them mixed up or something." when he makes no move to grab the remote and change the movie on the website he is currently on, you turn on Jaehyun's lap to nuzzle your face in his neck. Maybe you'll be able to get the hours of sleep you are missing because of work.

"Eh, doesn't this house look familiar to you?" you do not bother trying to find who just spoke, but a long hum can be heard right away. "Yes, it does, that's weird. Maybe the movie was made somewhere we went before." this is clearly not reassuring, but curiosity takes over, and you turn your head to look at the screen. The house does look familiar, and it brings an unpleasant shiver down your spine.

"What the fuck, that's my car!" Johnny suddenly stands up from the couch, nudging Mark who drops the bowl of popcorn on his lap and on the carpet. "Oh dude, watch out!" you are more interested about the mess Mark made than by Johnny's words. "Guys, that's my fucking car, what the fuck?" you roll your eyes when Jaehyun shifts under you. "When did you film that John?" he asks.

"What? But I didn't film anything, what are you talking about?" Johnny almost sounds offended that his own best friend thinks he would be fucked up enough to film something in a deserted street in the middle of the night. "Coming from you, I was expecting a better quality." you add after your boyfriend and Johnny narrows his eyes. "Fuck you!"

"Okay, I get that we caught on your little prank early on, but you don't have to be mean to Y/n." Taeil adds, and to be honest, you are surprised to hear his voice when he has the habit of falling asleep before the movie even starts. "But this is not me! I didn't film this movie! And if I did, how would I have it published on a website?"

You do not have an answer to that question, but when you hear Haechan gasp, you straighten up. "What's wrong?" he opens his mouth a few times, but no sounds come out which is a little worrying as he is known for being pretty loud during movie nights. "Guys."

"There is someone in the street. With a camera." you stand up and Jaehyun follows suit. "What are they doing?" Haechan's head moves from the window, to the television he must be comparing what he is seeing. "They just turned to the house." his voice is barely above a whisper, which makes it hard to hear what he is saying.

"Johnny, if this is one of your jokes, please, make it stop, this is not funny." you say and Johnny shakes his head with vigor. "This is not me, oh my god, how many times to I have to tell you!" he is either an incredible actor, or he is saying the truth, but it is difficult to find out which one is the right answer.

"They are moving."

The living room becomes silent, and all of the eyes turn to the television and indeed, the person is moving. "Johnny, if this is really not you, what happened in the movie you watched?" you ask quickly, and Johnny thinks about it for a moment before opening his mouth. "It started like this one, in a street, filmed like some sort of livestream. The guy found a house, showed the silhouettes moving behind the curtains."

"And? Johnny, what happened next?" you are starting to sound frantic, but you don't even care. You know you should remain calm, to avoid scaring the youngest but it is impossible. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you wouldn't be surprised to see it jump out of your chest. "He rang the bell." you are going to punch Johnny if he keeps adding suspense to a situation that does not need some fucking suspense. "Someone opened the door and he asked if he could use the phone to call a tow truck."

Jaehyun takes your hand in his when you clench your fist. "Calm down baby." oh, he is so getting punched later. "And he killed everyone." you swallow hard, mouth suddenly dry and if Jaehyun was not behind you, you would have fallen with how bad your legs started to shake. "Johnny, I'm begging you, if this is you, stop everything." this time, this is not you who asked, but Mark, half hidden behind the couch.

You know you should not do it, and yet, you turn your head to the television and your breath hitches in your throat when you see the red-colored door of... of your fucking house. And when you are about to open your mouth, the bell echoes against the walls of the entrance. "Guys..." you whisper and you meet Johnny's gaze. "He knows we are here." he articulates, and you nod, of course he knows.

You let go of Jaehyun's hand, and you walk to the front door, ignoring the pleas of your friends.

"Excuse me, are you here?" the voice comes from outside of the house, and it also comes out of the television although with a second or two of delay. "My car broke down a couple of streets away, could I use your phone? I'll be quick, I promise." you feel bile going up your throat when Taeyong opens his mouth, and even though he whispers the next words, you can hear him as if he had just shouted them right in your ear.

"I didn't lock the door when I came back."

Fuck.

[alecmagnuslwb]

Teenagers, We Think We’re Smart

Read on AO3

Zatanna’s one hundred percent certain that her father rues the day he brought John Constantine home as his latest project as he paces the floor in front of her running a hand along his goatee with a loud sigh every few minutes.

“He’s a smart young man,” she remembers her father saying to her as Constantine roamed the edges of her father’s study picking up magical tidbits here and there and flipping them around haphazardly. “He’s a little rough around the edges, but he’s got a sorcerers mind. With the right tutelage he might even catch up with you one day.”

Rough around the edges had been her father’s polite description. Really he was the father of a teenage daughter’s worst nightmare, he just somehow missed that part as he allowed John into their home and began training him.

The sandy blonde hair always purposefully tousled, the tattoos that peaked from the edges of his ratty old jacket covered in patches and pins, the line of piercings along both ears and the handsome face with a nose that had been broken a few too many times were exactly what any girl would bring home for dinner to terrorize her parents. And here he was already sitting at the dinner table.

But Zatanna had no interest in making her father angry about the boys she spent her time with. She told herself that to her Constantine would be just another in a long line of young proteges her father picked up hoping to challenge her a little more.

They never did and she was content with letting the Constantine phase pass quickly. Constantine was talented her father had been right about that, but he was also a shameless flirt who liked to live a little too dangerously. It annoyed her to no ends, or at least that’s what she told herself the first few months.

“You’re exhausting,” Zatanna said standing up from her seat at the table they’d been occupying quietly reading until he’d started on a rant about some ancient demon he’d been reading up about. For all that she claimed he was exhausting, she chose to stay at the table for the entire rant. Just like he’d listened to her talk about the finer, boring details of backwards magic the other day. She was just keeping things civil, balanced, that’s all. “And one of these days my father is going to hear you going on about raising demons to fight just fights and he’ll never let you in here again.”

Constantine chuckled standing and following her as she made her way to the door. He caught up putting an arm in front of the exit loosely and just high enough she could still leave if she wanted, but with a quiet request to stop if she chose to as well. She should have ducked under his arm and gone on, but she stayed put turning her head to meet his eyes.

He looked her up and down once that little frustrating almost smile he always seemed to sport when he looked at her on his lips as he held her gaze.

She squirmed under the look. “You know this whole hot, bad boy schtick thing you’ve got going on, doesn’t work on me, right?” she said pulling the book still in her arms tighter to her chest.

“You think I’m hot?” he said with a raise of his left eyebrow, the one with the little scar from where his father had thrown a bottle at him when he was nine. She’s not sure he meant to tell her that story, too vulnerable of a moment to share, but he’d let it slip one night when her father had rushed off to some meeting of sorcerer’s or something of the like leaving the two of them to their own devices. Something had shifted from there; she couldn’t quite be as annoyed with him as she wanted to be anymore.

“Not the point,” she scoffed loosening her hold on the book and letting one of her arms drop to her side. “What I mean is the schtick doesn’t work, because I see there’s more underneath it.”

She didn’t really think after that she just acted lifting herself up and kissing him on the lips once hard and quick. She smiled at him before ducking underneath his arm that had slipped just a little from the shock of her kiss and walked off. She turned back just once before heading up the stairs passing her father who was oblivious to what had just happened to catch sight of Constantine running the tips of his fingers across his lips shaking his head with a smile.

Since then five days a week when he’s at the mansion they’ve been stealing kisses in shadowy alcoves and holding hands a little longer than necessary when conjuring something and the other two days either John’s in the audience of her father’s shows while she assists him or they’re slipping off to get into their own brand of trouble.

Tonight had been the latter and finally after months of caution and her father not so much as batting an eye at them, they’d been caught.

“I cannot believe you did this,” her father says finally speaking for the first time in nearly twenty minutes. Zatanna sits up straight from where she’s been slouched over her head resting on her hand watching as her father’s pacing comes to a stop.

“How long has this thing been going on?” he asks gesturing to the closed door on the other side John is, as far as she knows, still waiting for her father to inevitably ban him from the mansion.

“A few months,” Zatanna shrugs not wanting to go into the details. If he knows it’s been six months and that as weird as it can feel they call each other boyfriend and girlfriend and that a few short days ago John casually and quietly told her he loved her for the first time he’d flip out even more than he already is.

“Months,” he mutters under his breath rubbing a hand across his forehead. “And how long have you been spending your nights in pocket dimension magic bars that you’re not old enough to be in?”

“Just the once,” she quickly answers. He doesn’t need to know about the other pocket dimension magic bar they found themselves in last month and the subsequent bar fight John got into when a four-armed creature got three of his hand’s way too close to her. He’d probably be proud she’s perfected a spell to fix a broken nose without any pain however.

Her father opens his mouth about to say something else when suddenly the faint smell of smoke drifts under the door freezing him in place.

“That better not be a cigarette in my house out there Constantine,” he shouts loud and angry, the fearful sorcerer he is on full display. The smell of smoke dissipates almost instantly just as the clatter of something metal, a conjured ash tray she’d bet, falls to the ground.

She smiles a small amused smile that drops as soon as her father turns back to her.

“You are a child,” he says and Zatanna straightens up even more.

“I’m seventeen,” she says indignantly.

“Exactly, a child, both of you are,” he says once again gesturing to the door John sits behind. “A place like that is no place for you to be.”

“We didn’t even drink or buy anything,” Zatanna defends knowing it’s a weak defense that won’t win this argument. It’s the truth though, her father had just happened to walk into that same bar the moment when John had picked up an empty glass to show her a new trick he’d learned, which looked pretty suspect with no context she’s willing to admit.

“That is not the point and you know it. You have been lying for months and,” he says stuffing his hand into one of the pockets of his fancy black slacks. He pulls out a key with a bright pink motel keychain attached to it, John’s room number blazoned across it in bold black letters. “I found this by your door, you must have dropped it on your way out for drinks.”

She rolls her eyes and he gives her a sharp look that stops the roll in its tracks.

“How many nights have you not slept here?” he asks an eyebrow raised angrily.

“A few,” she shrugs, slinking back into her chair. It’s fifteen to be exact, another thing he doesn’t need to know all the details of.

“So, not only have you been galivanting off in bars you shouldn’t be in and lying about what you do with your free time, but my little girl has also been spending the night with some boy?” he says his voice getting a little louder. Not quite yelling, but definitely not happy.

“A boy you brought around,” she scoffs crossing her arms.

Her father let’s out an angry huff. “Well, not anymore. He’s done. I won’t have a bad influence around my daughter any longer.”

Zatanna stands from her chair grabbing his arm as he turns to the door on a warpath to kick John out for good.

“You can’t do that,” she pleas tugging his sleeve so he looks back at her. “He’s worked so hard, he’s bright just like you said when you first found him.”

“Bright doesn’t excuse lying and dragging my daughter around god knows where,” he says, but Zatanna holds tight to his arm pleading their case, pleading John’s.

“He didn’t drag me anywhere,” she practically shouts to hold her father’s attention.  “I was the one who wanted to go tonight, I’m the one who kissed him first, I’m the one who asked for a key. Me. Not him.”

She takes a breath soldiering on.

“You never want me to go anywhere, I ask for you to show me more and you won’t. I know my magic has limits that you won’t let me discover, but I want to,” she pauses dropping her hand from his arm. “I know you worry and it’s dangerous, but I’m not a little kid anymore. So I went to some of the places and learned some things I’ve been curious about not because John is a bad influence, but because I wanted to. At best he was a protective hand to hold mine if things got too scary and at worst a willing and caring accomplice.”

“No matter what, you’ve still been lying to me, both of you have,” her father says eyes still hard, but softening just a bit.

“Yeah, you’ve got us there and if you want to make us sit in silence and read history of magic books for weeks on end as punishment for sneaking around you can, but don’t send him away. He’s no angel, don’t get me wrong, but he’s not a bad influence, if anything I’m too good of an influence on him that’s the first he’s smoked in weeks,” she says gesturing to the door with a chuckle. “You said it yourself we’re kids. Dumb kids who lied, but every choice I made was mine, and everything we did was between two people who lo-“ she pauses not really wanting to share that with her father right now. She hasn’t even said it back to John yet so she course corrects. “Care for each other in a fully consenting way.”

She finishes her argument off with emphasis hoping her father doesn’t try and go there specifically tonight. She doesn’t need another birds and bees talk from her dad. The first one was painful enough.  

Her father’s shoulders slump and he lets out a sigh more dramatic than necessary.

“Fine,” he says before reaching for the door and turning the handle. John practically falls through it when it opens, catching himself at the last moment.

He clears his throat standing to his full height and gives her father a smile that’s perfectly balanced between apologetic and humble, trying to play off the fact he was very obviously listening to everything that was said through the door.

“Three weeks,” her father says as John settles next to her. He starts to reach out for her hand, but thinks better of it at the last second. “You will both be sitting quietly reading magical history books that will bore you to tears for three weeks, no spells, no conjuring, no magic of any sort.”

“Yes, sir,” they say in unison. John’s shoulders which were rigid with tension, clearly worried he was going to be sent packing all the way back to London, drop and he steps a little closer to Zatanna.

“There will be no more lying, no more magical bars until your both of age,” he continues on holding himself in a parade stance in front of them, all business. “This key,” he says pulling it back out from his pocket and shockingly handing it over to Zatanna. “May be used, but you will come home at a prompt and discussed time when it is.”

“Yes, sir,” they say once again. John seems to feel a little braver now and reaches out tangling his fingers with hers.

“And if you do stay the night, you better be as sly about it as you have been and you must be safe,” he says his eyes staying put on John’s specifically in warning.

“Yes, sir,” he says with a confident nod. “Always am.”

“Good,” her father says softening his stance. “As for tonight though, I think it’s best you went home, John. I’ll let you say your goodnights.”

Her father gives her a small smile before swiftly leaving the room.

John lets out a long-relieved breath once he’s gone.

“Bloody hell I thought for sure he was going to send me packing, or just kill me,” he says letting his head drop down to her shoulder. “Definitely assumed he was about to melt that key right in front of us.”

Zatanna chuckles ruffling his hair and tugging at the ends until he lifts back up.

“Good thing he didn’t cause that one’s yours actually,” she says with a smile dropping it in his hand and pulling her own key from her shorts pocket dangling it in front of his eyes.

“Shit,” he says slipping it into the inside pocket of the long black trench coat he’s taken to wearing of late, she weirdly thinks a tan one would suit him better. “When the hell did I lose that?”

“This morning probably,” she says referring to when John had been sent upstairs by her father that morning to retrieve her for an early morning lesson. Things had gotten a little out of hands in the doorway when they’d been given a moment alone.

“Oops,” he says with a chuckle. He leans down kissing her lightly on the lips once, twice until the loud definitely magically manufactured sound of a ticking clock breaks them apart.

“Sounds like that’s my farewell song playing,” he says leaning in one last time, the linger of the cigarette he barely smoked in the hall still on his lips. “I’ll see you Monday for history lessons.”

Zatanna nods her head smiling as their arms travel along one another until it’s just their fingertips and he’s backing out of the door.

He turns and she follows watching as he heads for the intricate stained glass front doors.

“Hey, John,” she says leaning against the stairs. She can feel her father lingering at the top of them just out of sight, but she doesn’t care. “I love you too.”

He turns half in the door, half out with a big smile on his lips that she’s still getting used to seeing.

“Telling me just as we’re grounded, damn Zee. You’re gonna be the death of me luv,” he says smile still in place, he gives her a wink as he finally makes his way out the door the magic of the mansion closing it behind him.

She hears her father’s footsteps heading down the stairs as she pushes herself off of them.

“You two are going to make me regret giving you that key back aren’t you?” he says with a put-upon sigh.

Zatanna just smiles and makes her way up the steps patting him on the shoulder playfully as she passes.

“We’ll behave, I promise,” she says once she hits the top of the stairs and turns the corner.

“Go to bed,” he shouts after her sounding more like an exasperated single father than he ever has before as he trudges his way back up the stairs.

“As you wish father,” she shouts back playfully making her way down the hall to her room. As she turns the knob to her bedroom door she hears her father mutter with another loud sigh one solitary word: teenagers.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Home Sweet Home: Kill ‘Em

Summary- 3.1k Andy Barber x You. You and Andy almost have it all, married and with a jointed family consisting of Andy’s teenage son Jacob, as well as your two younger children John and Cassidy. Looking to add another member, your family is in need of a bigger house, a forever home. You find just the place, 112 Ocean Avenue in Amityville Long Island.   

Home Sweet Home

Written for @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho​ Spooky Scary Stories challenge. Divider by @firefly-graphics​

Warnings- Fighting, child endangerment, violence. 

A/N- I chose Amityville Horror for the challenge because its one of my favorite Spook Stories growing up. When reading you will find a lot of similarities to the 2005 Movie, some of the scenarios and dialogue are specifically from that film. Other parts of it are from the book itself. The family name was changed for my own personal reasons. Happy Haunting!  🎃

A/N 2- Thank you Everyone who stuck with me through this and have made comments about the story! You all are the very best, and I appreciate all of you. 

Chapter 4 / Masterlist 

The next morning you woke up groggy and looked over to see Andy’s side was untouched. “That idiot must have stayed in the basement.” you say with a groan, and move to sit up, rubbing your face. Grabbing a robe you slip it on, and head out of the bedroom. You peek in on Cassidy as you pass her room, and see John is in with her. Together they are sitting on her bed playing together and you step into the room. John looks up when he hears you and clears his throat. “Are you and Andy still fighting?” 

“Oh baby, I don't know. But it will be okay, I promise.” You tilt your head to kiss the top of his head and Cassidy squirms a bit. 

“Is Andy mad at us? Jody says he is.” She looked miserable at you, since she loved Andy like he was her father, and didn't want him upset with her. You reach to hug her and smile. 

“Andy loves you very much, I know he does. He isn't mad at you. He's just being a grumpy bear lately.” you wink and that seems to ease the kids. “I'm going to go downstairs and make breakfast, come down when you're ready.” 

Leaving them to play, you run into a sleepy Jacob headed to the bathroom. 

“Hey Jake.” You pause him and he rubs his eyes to look at you. “You okay?” 

“Yea, Y/N. I'm gonna go see Sammy later to see how she is doing.” He smiles weakly and you approach him and give him a hug. 

“I bet she will really like that. Also bring her a little something. Maybe flowers or a teddy bear. Us girls like to know we're being thought of.” you suggested while unknowingly lifting your hand to your ear lobe, rolling Andy's diamonds before smiling. “I'm gonna go risk seeing how your dad is, wish me luck.” 

Jacob snorted before going into the bathroom. “You are gonna need it.” 

Downstairs you went into the kitchen to see Andy sitting there, just staring at the wall. You worry your lip before deciding to take a chance, and moving a chair to sit next to him. 

“Andy can we talk?” You reach to take one of his hands in yours and he pulls it away without looking at you. 

Great, he's still pissed off, you thought while pulling your hand back. “Somethings not right Andy.” 

His eyes dart to you from the corner of his eyes. “What do you mean, something isn't right?” 

“Something with this house, it's not okay. It hasn't been in a while. I think… I think we should leave, sell this place and move.” You finally confess the thought that has been on your mind for a while now. Andy’s head whips around to look you up and down, and you could see the way they were red rimmed like he was once more sick. “God Andy, you look terrible, are you okay?” 

“Fine, never better. You can't just run away from your problems Y/N.” He bit out, and you recoiled a bit at the harshness of his tone. 

“Please, Andy. Lets just go. You're not well, and you haven’t been since we moved in.” You are blinking back tears now, worried for Andy and it was hurting to see him like this. Gone was the man you married, and everyday he was turning colder to you, to Jacob and the kids.

His head whipped around again, his eyes roving along the wall. “Y/N, you hear that? Someone is whispering.” You shake your head confused, and Andy whispers under his breath. “Catch ‘em…” His hands come down hard on the table and you jump, flinching away from him. “Gotta find that noise, these houses are big big projects Y/N, we can't just walk away from.” His hand snakes out and grabs yours, squeezing painfully, and you jerk it back from his hold with a cry. He sneers at you. “When did you get so fucking stupid Y/N?” 

Your mouth gapes open, and wipe away the tears. “W-What?” 

“We have everything in this house Y/N, every fucking god damn penny for Christs sake. I don’t even have a proper place to work and get the fuck away from all of you cause of this house.” 

“I don’t care about the money Andy!” you protest and he pushes away from the table, and goes to turn on the stove to put his hands over the flames. 

“I don't care about the money Andy.” He mimics you. “My money Y/N, mine. I made all the sacrifices for you to have this fucking house.”

You are fisting your hands together trying not to scream at him. “Andy we are losing each other here, don't you see? Turn off the stove and talk to me.” 

He jerked the stove knob off and twisted to face you. “YOU WANTED THIS GOD FORSAKEN HOUSE Y/N, NOW YOU GOT IT.” He snarled out, thumping his fist against the counter, and you jumped, hiding your face in your hands. All three of the kids had at some point come downstairs and were standing in the doorway witnessing it. Andy’s eyes roved over them with a look of disgust, then back at you, and he shook his head. “You all are so fucking pathetic. Home sweet home.” He went down in the basement, and Jacob went past the kids and shut the door, tempted to throw the lock to keep his father shut down there. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” Jacob sympathetically comes over and takes Andy's seat. You lift your head and wipe at the tears. 

“Yea, yea I’m okay. Jake, I think I'm going to take John and Cassidy to my moms for a little bit. I just can't keep doing this right now. It’s killing me, it’s killing me he's become this person who I don't know. I have had news I was going to tell him last night, and I don't dare now.” you hung your head and Jacob leaned forward, taking your hand in his. 

“What kind of news?” he tilted his head in question, and you lifted your head to look at him, giving a little sad smile. 

“We’re pregnant, I was going to tell him before we went to bed, but with everything going on.” You wandered off, and Jacob gave a smile. 

“Y/N, that's great news. Dad will be happy, I just know it.” his hand gave him a squeeze in reassurance. 

“I don't think he will be.” You sigh and let go of his hands, wiping your face. “If you want me to drop you off at Laurie’s, I will.” 

Jacob looks back at the basement door and gives a nod. “I think it's for the best right now. Besides, it's been a while since I have spent time at Mom’s.” 

Downstairs Andy paces back and forth, now the figure that has been tormenting him is following, no longer hiding. It slides up his back and clings like a second skin, whispering repeatedly in his ear. 

Catch ‘em, Kill ‘em.  

Andy repeats it to himself, his mind sinking further into madness. “Catch ‘em, Kill ‘em.” His head snaps up the stairs, and he sees the glowing red eyes, and the form takes shape at the basement door. It's forked tongue sticking out, while hissing his name. “Andy, Catch ‘em, Kill ‘em.” 

Andy smirked, advancing up the stairs. Each step alternating. Catch, Kill, Catch, Kill. He shoved open the door to see the kitchen was empty. Going into the entrance, he paused at the steps, listening. Your voice is distinct while talking to the kids. 

“Just your clothes and sleeping toys, everything else stays.” you said, and Andy starts up the stairs, pausing as he sees John packing in his room, and then Cassidy is in her room gathering her stuffed horses off the bed. Finally he ends up in the master bedroom, seeing you frantically gathering clothing from the dresser. 

“Running away I see, typical.” Andy spat out, his tone filled with venom and disgust towards you. 

“Don’t Andy, we're going to my mothers for a few days, Jacob said he wants to go stay with Laurie. We all need a break from each other.” you are so matter of fact about it while folding your shirts. Andy doesn't even pause as he stalks forward and when you turn around to go back to the dresser, he is right there blocking your path and he backhands you to sprawl against the floor. 

You yelp in shock, and he's on you with his hands wrapped around your throat, squeezing till you start struggling, pounding on his arms to get him to let go. He’s shaking you hard enough so your head bounces off the floor. “You were going to run away and not come back bitch, think you can get away from me? I OWN your fucking ass.” he snarled in your face, spit flying from his anger, and you can just see black dots. From somewhere you hear John screaming Jacob’s name, and it all starts to fade out. “Don't worry, I will take care of the kids.” 

Dropping your body, you roll away coughing and gagging while Andy pushes up and goes to look for the kids, who both had run to Jacob’s room. Jacob is squatting next to them, listening to what was going on, when he caught sight of Andy stalking down the hallway. Cassidy looked as well and screamed. 

“Jody! Jody is on his back!” Cassidy for the first time looks at Andy and Jody in fear. Jacob couldn't believe what he was seeing. Just over Andy's shoulder was something following him, looming over him with a grotesque face, fangs bared which Andy also was baring his teeth at the children, glowing red eyes flared and both Andy and Jody shouted at the same time. “Catch em, Kill em!” 

“Run guys, get out of the house!” Jacob pushed the kids towards the stairs, and they started racing down. Jacob felt Andy’s hand grab the nape of his neck and drag him back to slam him forward once more. Sending Jacob flying forward and colliding with the other two children, all three landing in a heap at the bottom. 

He scrambles up, trying to get John and Cassidy on their feet when Andy is about to start down, but you moments earlier had gained strength to get moving. Racing forward, you grab the back of his shirt around whatever the horror is that is clinging to his back and yanks backwards to try and stop him. 

“Andy! Stop! Those are your kids!” you scream, and he whips around, grabbing your arm to wrench it viciously, and slams you into the wall. 

“No no no. Those little ones are not my fucking responsibility. But I will be sure to take care of them once I get my hands on their necks.” He grinned coldly, the creature clinging to him hissed again. “Catch em, Kill em.” 

You sobbed as he fists a hand to hit you with and you sob out. “Andy, fuck Andy don't. I’m pregnant. With your child. Don’t hurt me.” Below you can hear the door open and the only thing you can think of is at least the kids escaped, because from the look in Andy’s eyes, you weren't going to. 

But they cleared a bit, he blinked in surprise. “You are what?” His hand loosened from the first about to pummel you.  

Taking a shuddering breath, you say again. “Pregnant, we're pregnant Andy. You are going to have another child.” Hoping beyond anything that it would be enough for him to break out of whatever the demon spawn grasp. It finally clicked for you that it must be Jody. The thing your daughter had been conversing with. Jody screamed in rage, and Andy turned cold again, his and once more locking into a fist. You heaved a shove at his chest to break loose while he seemed confused, and started to half run, half stumble down the steps. Andy's heavy footfalls are not far behind, and you try to get out the door, but it slammed shut on you. Twisting to get away from Andy, you race into the living room where Jacob is prying open a window. 

“Y/N! Hurry!” He reaches in and grabs your arm, helping hauling you out. Andy grabs your leg, and you kick out with the other one, catching him in the face. You felt the crunch of bone where his nose gave way, but he let go enough for Jacob to continue pulling you towards the car. 

He too is stumbling out the window, and when you look over your shoulder, you put on a burst of speed down the driveway, and both of you dive into the front seats. Your hands shaking, you grab the keys from the visor and try to get the car to start. 

“Hurry! Y/N, he's coming.” Jacob yells, and you cry out. 

“I'm trying! Oh god, Andy STOP!” In the backseat John and Cassidy are screaming in fear and you get the car in drive, slamming on the gas pedal while you are screaming at your husband. The sudden surge forward happened to catch Andy, sprawling him across the hood, and then shooting him forward to land in a heap. You slam on the break and stare at him, your mind whirring so fast you cant believe your saying what's coming out of your mouth. 

“Jacob, there is rope in the trunk, get it. We have to get him out of here.” 

“Y/N, are you crazy?! Dad was just about to kill us!” Jacob shakes his head in a no and you pop the trunk. 

“It's the house Jacob, it's not your dad's fault. We have to hurry before he wakes back up though.” You urge and are going out your door to check on Andy, and Jacob hesitates, and then follows, grabbing the rope out of the trunk and racing back. 

You roll Andy to his stomach and yank your unconscious husband's hands behind his back and once Jacob comes over, you tie them as quickly as you can. Beneath you Andy starts groaning, and he’s saying something. But it's slurred, and you get up to grab his shoulders. “Come on, let's get him in the trunk.” 

It felt like it took forever, Andy was so heavy and you both struggled getting him around the car. When you start to push him into the trunk, you see a shadow figure lurking just at the edge of the house, still chanting “Catch ‘em, Kill ‘em.” 

With a heave, you shove Andy in, and he twists, wild eyed. “Y/N, Y/N, Baby, just fucking kill me, I’m not going to stop. It's trying to take me again.” You look down at him, and shake your head, your tears streaming down your face. 

“I’m getting you out of here Andy.” Slamming the trunk shut while Andy starts screaming your name. Ignoring the thing lurking along the shadow of the house, you get back in the car and whip it around, 112 Ocean Avenue House in your rear view. 

You drive, as fast as possible away from the town. Once you feel you are far enough away, you go to a hospital and get the whole family into the emergency room, including a half out of it Andy. “Please, please I need help. My husband was hit by a car.” You try to stumble Andy in, but he collapses, weakened from the whole ordeal. 

There is a noise, it's annoying Andy as he starts to come back. It was a buzzing in his ear and a steady beep. He can tell he's not in his bed, this mattress was much too hard. His thoughts race all before he gets the energy to pry his eyelids apart. Trying to remember what happened. It was hazy, he remembered being in the basement, his mind heavy with the liquor and rage at his family, at you. You were leaving the house and him. After that he didn't want to remember, it was a sickening drive to choke the life out of you, the kids, and Jacob too. 

Andy eventually blinks his eyes open, and the first thing he sees is you sitting by his bed, holding his hand. “Y/N?” he says hoarsely, and you nod, squeezing his hand with a smile. 

“Hey Andy, I’m right here.” you say and he lifts his hand to cup your face, tracing your bruises gently as his eyes well up. 

“Oh babygirl, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.” He drops his hand and you shift from your seat to sit on his bed and cup his face, now the tears were soaking in his beard and you could see he was remembering everything that happened, what he was almost made to do. 

“Andy, hush baby hush. I knew that wasn’t you.” You ease down, your head on his chest, and he buries his face on the top of your head, still crying unable to help himself. He could have lost all of you, in seconds. He fought it, tried to. But that thing, Jody was stronger then he was, and shame filled him that he would have killed all of you. Uncontrolled sobs wracked his body harshly, harsher than that cough ever done to him. He clung to you for a few minutes till the overwhelming emotions backed off, and he eased his hold. 

You shift a bit to sit back up and take his hand in yours. “Andy we got out, all of us. You're in the worst shape, Jacob and the kids are all perfectly safe. We never have to go back to that place.” 

Andy shook his head, fear filling him at any of you returning. “God fuck no. None of us are ever going back to that house. Destroy it. Tear it down.” 

You nod, your fingers tracing his hand and you smiled. “Hey, I have some good news. Something to make today a bit better.” You take his hand and press it against your belly. “You're gonna be a daddy again.” 

His fingers flexed slightly, and he moved to sit up with a shudder. “Oh fuck, I didn’t hurt you there did I?” His other hand cupped your face and you shook your head. 

“No, actually when I told you, you snapped out of the control. How I knew it wasn't you. You did your best to stop it.” your hand rubbed over his pressed against your stomach. “I'm going to go get the doctor, let them look you over.” You kissed his forehead and moved off the bed, leaving the room. Andy eased back against the pillows. You were sure he was fine before you closed the door all the way, heading towards the nurses station. On the way, you had to pass the room that had the children in it, and as you were passing it, you distinctly heard Cassidy’s voice chant. “Jody, we can play Catch ‘em, Kill ‘em later, right now I want to watch Blue’s Clues.” 

Your throat closed up, and when you eased the door open, there was Cassidy sitting in the middle of the bed sipping on her juice box. 

“Hi Mommy, Jody’s back to play!”

[tragertrap]

Intimidating || Juice Ortiz x Reader

Summary: (Y/N), although Jax's best friend, wants nothing to do with the motorcycle club that's fucking up her town. Well, at least that's the case until she meets a certain member of SAMCRO with a stupid haircut. Even though he seems too intimidating at first, (Y/N) learns to never judge a book by its cover when she gets a chance to see his softer side.

Having a best friend that works at an automotive repair shop definitely comes in handy for (Y/N), especially since her 'old ass disaster of a car' constantly breaks down.

"Wow, that's the 3rd time in a month (Y/N)!", Jax said before he let out a chuckle.

"You know I'm saving for a new one asshole." She hit his bicep playfully.

"I hope the best friend discount is still on", she mumbled.

"It expired after the forth time you used it darling."

"I'm sorry. It's just that... money's kinda tight right now."

"I can imagine..."

"Can I pay you back in pancakes?... or waffles? I know you won't deny waffles." She asked with an awkward smile on her face, hoping her best friend would accept.

"Have you not pay for the car AND poison me with your cooking? I think I'll pass", he teased her.

"I meant going to the diner outside of town but since you're being an asshole I guess the offer is off the table."

"Okay okay if you're not the one cooking, I'm down", he said, his smirk never leaving his face.

She couldn't help but laugh, thankful for her best friend being there to cheer her up.

"Thank you Jackie."

"My shift ends in half an hour. If you wanna wait we can go for pancakes after I'm done here", he said, putting an arm around her.

She had just left work, so the timing was perfect for a warm meal at a cozy diner with her best friend.

"Yeah, sure! I can wait."

They started walking towards the garage and the blond man started talking again: "You know I'd fix your car for free anyway but then you mentioned pancakes so I couldn't say no."

She narrowed her eyes and looked at him.

"You're lucky I love you Teller."

He laughed and gave her a kiss on the cheek, his arm still around her shoulder.

"Me and Chibs are just finishing off with an old bike and then we're good to go."

"Chibs?" she asked with a raised eyebrow as they were approaching the bike Jax was talking about.

"One of the guys... the Scottish one. Do you ever listen to me when I talk?"

"I was mostly asking because of the weird name but sure... Scottish one. Got it! One of your scary biker friends, right?"

He couldn't help but laugh yet again.

"Scary biker friends?"

(Y/N) loved Jax. The two immediately became best friends at a pretty young age when (Y/N)'s family had moved to Charming next to Gemma and John Teller's house. She loved him the way you'd love a brother, she was always there for him whenever he needed her but one thing she decided to stay completely away from was the club. She wouldn't approve of the outlaw lifestyle in the first place but also witnessing the mess it caused to her town, and most importantly her best friend, was only making it worse. She wouldn't ask any questions in case she'd get answers she wouldn't like. He was ok with it. More than ok with it actually. She was an escape for him to a carefree past and a light of positivity in his chaotic present.

She met the 'Scottish one' that was helping Jax fix the old bike and it went better than she expected. Once she got over his pretty intimidating look, scarred face, leather jacket and all, he actually seemed pretty nice and interesting.

She was sitting on a bench next to the two bikers working when she noticed another guy trying to fix a car nearby. Well, it was pretty hard for him to go unnoticed. He had a short dark mohawk and a tattoo on each side of it on his head, wounds on his face from god knows what and tattoos all over his arms and torso, that was now visible since his shirt was long gone. His muscular body was glistening from his sweat in the Californian heat and the muscles on his arms and upper back were moving in sync as he was working on the damaged car.

He had been over that car's engine for what seemed like forever and as much as she hated to admit it, (Y/N) wished she wasn't jealous of an old car. She had noticed the guy before, one of the many times she had to visit TM due to her shitty car, but that day she had the chance to take a 'closer look'.

His left hand was resting on the car's open hood now, giving her a better view of his muscular arm and flexing abs. The focused look on his face, lowered eyebrows and clenched jaw, made him appear even more intimidating and yet attractive, especially when he unconsciously licked his lips in deep thought.

"(Y/N)! (Y/N)?" her friend interrupted her watching of the 'show'. "Can you pass me that cloth over there?", he asked as he pointed to a gray piece of cloth on the bench she was sitting.

After that small interruption she was back at unapologetically starting at the tan guy nearby. She guessed that she had missed a lot since a small part of his abs was covered in grease now and his face seemed even angrier after the amount of failed attempts to start the car.

After some more conversation with Jax and Chibs, once she looked over at the mohawk guy again, he had already put his black shirt on, meaning that his job fixing the car was done. Later as he was putting a no-sleeve leather jacket on, which (Y/N) unfortunately recognised, he was aimlessly looking around when he caught the almost-drooling girl looking at him. She immediately dragged her gaze to Jax and Chibs, mostly out of embarrassment as well as some fear of his intimidating look. Next thing she knew, the mohawk guy was strutting confidently towards her and the two bikers, shoulders and arms swaying back and forth. He was wearing a pair of black sunglasses, no one knowing where his brown eyes were focused on.

"Hey brother", Chibs said with a smirk.

He answered with a simple 'hey' and a light hit on Chib's back and then did the same to Jax, after he took off his sunglasses and put them hanging outside his leather jacket's pocket.

(Y/N) didn't know if she should have been mad or relieved that the hot outlaw completely ignored her existence, exactly because he was a hot outlaw. Nevertheless, she was satisfied she could study the biker up close. He was wearing buggy cargo pants with chains hanging from one side near his waist and the black shirt she had noticed earlier was visibly a little too tight on his muscular chest. He put his hands in his pockets, as (Y/N) was staring at the veins and black tattoos on his arms that had started to fade.

"Jax, I wanted to tell you that I can't come with you guys tonight. I have something personal to take care of." He didn't give any further details since his brothers were not the only ones present. He was waiting for an answer from Jax with a frown on his face since the sun was getting into his eyes. (Y/N) noticed how his chocolate brown pupils appeared almost red against the sunlight.

"Yeah, that's okay. We're more than enough for tonight anyway. You can take the evening off."

"Awesome, thank you man", he said with a smirk as he lightly hit Jax's back.

He then shook his head up as an indication of saying goodbye, while maintaining eye contact with (Y/N), before he walked away.

Was that saying goodbye to me as well?

It was a goodbye to everyone.

He was looking at my direction though.

(Y/N) wasn't exactly loving the fact that she was enjoying this.

______

The hot pancakes Jax and (Y/N) were eagerly anticipating finally arrived at the table.

"Thank you darling", the blond biker said to the waitress while intensionally making his voice sound a little deeper. He was smirking the entire time while sitting all laid back, exuding confidence. The young girl gave him a cheeky smile and went her own way.

"Do you ever take a break?" (Y/N) questioned him sarcastically.

"A break of what?" Jax asked, a playful look on his face since he obviously knew what she was talking about.

"Hitting on innocent women."

"She was eyeing me since the minute we walked in."

The only way she could respond was with an unamused look.

"Also don't act all innocent to me. You're worse than I am", he said before letting out a chuckle and taking a big bite of his pancakes.

"What are you talking about? I don't hit on any person on a 18 feet radius, at any given time and place."

"Well yeah, that's because you're too scared to actually hit on them so you just stare from afar."

(Y/N) kicked his leg under the table.

"Ouch", he screamed in a playful manner while rubbing his leg. "You bitch", he whispered.

"That's not true."

"You were staring at Juice the entire time we were at TM. Didn't even say hello to him."

"Staring at what?" She asked while laughing, not even understanding that with the word Juice, Jax was refering to a person.

"The guy back at the garage. Mohawk and tribal tattoos. You were practically drooling over him."

"No I wasn't", she sounded offended.

"You can't hide from me girl. You know that. I know you better than I know myself."

"Ok he's hot... I was looking, yeah... but 'drooling over him' is an overstatement."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say", he raised his eyebrows while taking a sip of water.

"Jax!"

"You weren't even listening to what me and Chibs were saying."

"Actually I was actively trying not to listen to your club... business... stuff."

Jax rolled his eyes at her desperate attempt to change the subject.

"You could've at least say hello, you know. Dude doesn't bite."

"Are you sure about that? He looked like he could bite to me. If I'm being honest I was kinda scared of him."

Jax started laughing. "Scared? Of Juice? I can guarantee you he was more scared of you than you were of him."

"What do you mean?" she asked amused.

"Let's just say that not everyone has their way with women like I do."

"You're an idiot."

"No seriously, he'd get nervous even if he was around a female dog."

"What? He looked pretty confident to me. Intimidating. And scary as I said before."

Jax couldn't help but roll his eyes and sigh. "You know, underneath all the leather and the tattoos, we're still human. Didn't you like Chibs?"

"He was pretty nice I guess. Well, when I could make out what he was saying", she said referring to his thick accent.

"See? And Juice is even... milder...", he was trying to find the right word, "than Chibs. Dude's into technology and computers, coding and shit. He's a total nerd."

"He's still an outlaw biker. Seriously, could you ever imagine me being with someone like that Juice guy?"

"With the stupid haircut of his? Hell no, you deserve way better."

"Jax, I'm serious."

"Well... no, it's not the easiest thing to imagine, but you're full of surprises baby, I know that", he chuckled.

"A mohawk, head tattoos and chains hanging from his pants is a pretty big surprise though, don't you think? And these fucking leather jackets."

"I've told you a million times, they're called kuttes."

She couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"(Y/N), if you can be best friends with me, you can date a guy like Juice, trust me. Also I have chains on my pants too, should I be offended?" he was once again teasing her.

"Yes."

"You should meet him. And by meet him I mean like actually have a conversation." He was trying to find a reason for her to meet the Sons after all those years, meet the other part of him she had been avoiding for so long.

"I'm not getting into your club business shit for some boy, Jackie. Especially a boy with a fucking mohawk."

"I'm not asking you to get into the club shit. Trust me, I wouldn't want that", he was all serious now, "I'm just saying that you can meet the guys. They are my family. They... they're a part of me. You met Chibs, he was ok. You know we don't only talk about dead bodies and guns. We have other interests as well."

She was quiet, not knowing how to respond, so he continued:

"We are family (Y/N). They've been there for me through my hardest times, just like you have. Maybe you have more things in common than you think. Besides, I think you and Juice would make a great duo", he told his best friend, smirking after the last sentence.

_____

A few days later (Y/N) was heading to TM once again. She had agreed with Jax that when she'd come to pick up her car, she'd come in the clubhouse to meet the guys for the first time.

So there she was, nervous, walking slowly towards the clubhouse entrance. Second thoughts were taking over her mind.

I don't know if I'm ready for this. I'm not meant to be involved in this kind of stuff... with these kind of people. What am I supposed to have in common with a bunch of criminal bikers? If only it wasn't for this dumb, scary, hot ass Juice dude.

To her surprise the dumb, scary, hot ass Juice dude was sitting by himself on a bench outside the clubhouse.

Shit, shit, shit. Ok. Go talk to him. No I can't go talk to him. I have to walk right by him anyway, I should talk to him. What am I supposed to say? I can just say hello. Or hey. God just look away.

Juice was looking down at something so she hoped he wouldn't look up at her. She was getting closer, still overthinking.

I should ask him about my car. Or Jax... yeah, I should ask him where Jax is.

Juice looked up giving her a small smile that made her knees weak.

"Hey... you're Jax's friend right? If you're looking for him he's probably in the clubhouse", the tan biker spoke first, making everything way easier for her. The truth is he did know who she was, that's for sure. 'Jax's cute bubbly friend whose car was breaking down constantly.'

"Awesome, thank y-" she didn't finish her sentence. She had felt something against her ankles, so she looked down. To her surprise there was a small gray kitten slithering between her legs and rubbing its small head against her ankles.

"I think she likes you", Juice said with a wide smile, the kind where his eyes smile as well. Apparently that's why he was looking down earlier.

"It took her weeks to trust me and stop running away from me and now she's all up on you the minute she meets you. I'm kind of offended actually", he said before letting out an adorable laugh, while spreading his right arm close to (Y/N)'s shoes, making the kitten rub its face on his big palm. He eventually grabbed it and put it gently on his lap where he was sitting.

A 'badass' biker dressed in black leather, full of tattoos and with a fucking knife hanging off his belt, petting a small kitten that was purring loudly on his lap. The contrast in this image was pretty apparent, to say the least. (Y/N) was sitting there taking in this unusual sight before he spoke again:

"She's a stray. Found her by some trash cans a few weeks ago and fed her. Now she won't leave." He was busy petting the cat, only looking up to face (Y/N) by his last sentence.

What he said, along with his big smile at the end, warmed her heart. Maybe bikers do have feelings after all. He suddenly didn't appear all scary to her. She sat on the bench next to him and although confident, it took all the courage she had.

"Why don't you take her to the animal shelter?" she asked while petting the cute kitten that was still on his lap.

"I wanted to... but I couldn't", a loud laugh escaping his lips. "I tried, I promise", he added while raising his hands in the air in an 'I'm innocent' motion. "I mean look at that face."

The cat was looking up at them, its green eyes shining. She was still petting it, when her hand accidentally brushed against Juice's.

"She's so cute", (Y/N) said after a few moments of silence while looking at the kitten, in order to change the sudden awkward atmosphere.

"She is", he said softly while looking at the cat and then up to the girl next him, not knowing who he was referring to either.

"I wanted to take her home but I'm too busy for a pet, you know, with the club an' all. I'm not even home that much. I wouldn't want to neglect her."

"I've always wanted a cat, but never really made the decision. I... I would love to get her... Well, if you're okay with that of course."

"Yeah, of course", he exclaimed all excited, "it breaks my heart knowing she's out here day and night. Getting her a home is everything I could ask for... you're gonna have to let me visit her though."

A sexy smirk appeared on his face and (Y/N) responded with a lovely smile. Maybe meeting the club wasn't such a bad idea after all.

[tepkunset]

Are there any other indigenous people in X-men? Like islanders?

So here’s a list of every Indigenous mutant in Marvel Comics (Earth 616) that I know of. Unfortunately, some are just straight up offensive. But there are a number of underappreciated gems!

Dani Moonstar AKA Mirage (Obviously gotta start with my fave)

Cheyenne

Illusory powers (originally her powers were creating illusions of peoples’ fears. Overtime her illusions eventually expanded to pretty much anything she wants. After she gets fried by the High Evolutionary’s machinery, her illusions could become solid objects, but she could only have one at a time. And during her time undercover with the MLF she developed the ability to channel her illusions into psonic arrows that stun people, trapping them in their nightmares. This is what she mostly uses, currently. (TBH I’d really like to see writers remember her abilities have far more uses than just that... Like, remember that time she recreated Jimmy’s whole damn farm and family so he could ‘see’ them again?)

Dani is also a valkyrie with the ability to sense death

Original member of the New Mutants

Honestly the best character on this list IMO. I could ramble about how awesome Dani is for days...

Forge

Cheyenne

Superhuman mechanical ingenuity/genius (kind of a complicated power, but basically his mutation is that he can understand machines and create anything he can imagine. Like a mutant Tony Stark except better in every way, fight me.)

Back in the day he also dabbled in sorcery but turned out uh Not Good and he hasn’t since

He’s been a member of a bunch of different X-Men teams and none of them have ever given him the respect he deserves

I like Forge a lot TBH, especially after the sorcery thing was dropped and forgotten

A shame we will probably never get to know his real name

Lucas Bishop AKA Bishop

Indigenous Australian (Unknown Nation)

Energy absorption and redirection, subsequently super durability (if you blast him he will just blast you back)

Bishop isn’t technically from 616, being born in a dark future, but has existed in the main universe for as long as he’s been around. He’s been a team member in Uncanny X-Men and X-Treme X-Men but then went through a period as an enemy, mostly cause he has a That’s So Raven syndrome where he thinks he's shaping the future for the better and fucks things up. Can’t say I’m a fan in the way he was used as an inconvenience for Cable, but otherwise you can count on Bishop for being pretty damn cool.

Just a warning for anyone unfamiliar with him but wants to read up on him: His background may be triggering. The tattoo over his eye isn’t a choice, but a brand he received when put into the mutant concentration camp where he was born in.

Shard Bishop AKA Shard

Indigenous Australian (Unknown Nation)

Energy blasts from light

Shard is Bishop’s younger sister, and therefore also not technically from 616. She’s also not nearly as prominent a character, but was member of X-Factor for a while.

Honestly, Shard was never actually given a chance to do anything and her relationship with Fitzroy (green haired, slimy time travelling serial killer) is BS. 

James Proudstar AKA Warpath

Apache

Super strength, speed, senses, stamina, reflexes, durability, healing, and flight (everyone forgets the flight)

Also he’s over 7 feet tall which is its own superpower

John Proudstar’s younger brother

Sadly, Jimmy chronically suffers from writers not having a sweet clue what to do with him or how to write him. Swear to god, no one should be allowed to touch him before reading X-Force vol 1 after Liefeld left. James appearing to be scary to people who don’t know him and actually being a sweetheart is the whole deal with his character. He is not a violent raging edgelord! Everyone at Marvel just collectively forgot he rejected the name Warpath after starting to come to terms with the death of his family, too. 

Anyway, I love James with pure spite and venom and would love to fistfight all the writers who’ve done him dirty over the years...

John Proudstar AKA Thunderbird (speaking of getting done dirty)

Apache

Super strength, speed, senses, stamina, reflexes and durability

James Proudstar’s older brother

This poor bastard was created to die for shock value, and has been one of the few X-Men for which death has not been a revolving door. For the brief time he was around, he was portrayed as nothing but a jerk, too. It’s only in brief flashbacks that he’s ever been given more character. Also that one Chaos World mini.

Gloria Muñoz AKA Risque

Seminole

Can make objects implode (think the opposite of Gambit)

Risque was an anti-hero/anti-villain associated with the original X-Factor, and formerly James’ GF. She was a complicated character and deserved a redemption arc. That’s a hill I’m gonna die on.

John Greycrow AKA... I don’t even wanna say it

Unknown Nation

Technology manipulation (can like, turn a gun into a different gun for example), super healing

Scalphunter. His name is fucking scalphunter. And just like the other Indigenous Marauder member on this list, he’s been nothing but a lingering racist caricature. He is currently a protagonist in the running Hellions series and I honestly do not know what miracle Zeb Wells thinks he can pull to reinvent this character, but I guess we’ll just have to see.

Kodiak Noatak AKA Harpoon

Inuit

Can supercharge his harpoon with energy

That’s right, the Marauders don’t have just one, but two racist as fuck caricatures! He also... for some reason... speaks... like this a lot... I sure... wonder why...

Gateway

Indigenous Australian (Unknown Nation)

Teleportation portal creation

Oh look, it’s the X-Men’s bus ticket. Seriously, Gateway is nothing but a silent teleporter for the X-Men to travel around by, and another racist caricature. However, there is one good thing to come out of Gateway’s existence, and that’s that without him, we may never have gotten...

Eden Fesi AKA Manifold

Indigenous Australian (Unknown Nation)

Teleportation portal creation (and some interesting ways of using it too)

I swear Hickman must have looked back at Gatway and thought, you know what, let’s try that again except not offensive. Eden is pretty cool, and one of the three reasons I read Avengers vol 5 (the other two being Bobby and Sam). It’s a shame he’s never gotten the chance to interact with the X-Men, what with being a mutant and all. I would love to see him on Krakoa. Given that Hickman is at the helm and Eden is a Hickman character, I don’t think it’s too far-fetched of a hope?

Yeah, that’s all I can think of, unfortunately. Really makes you wish there were more, huh.

BONUS:

Julio Richter AKA Rictor

Listen. I will fight to my last dying breath to defend what I have always seen as the obvious; Julio was created with the intention of him being an Indigenous Mexican boy. I legit have a half-done powerpoint presentation about it that I never finished upon realizing no one would take me seriously when I sound like this mapping out all the evidence -

[wouldpollyapprove]

Don’t Go

Summary: Y/n and Arthur’s relationship wasn’t one that anyone talked about, she was married and he was a Peaky Blinder. As forbidden as the romance seemed, they loved each other more than they could ever express. But what was unknown to everyone, was that Y/n’s marriage was no bed of roses and life at home was a nightmare. That comes to light, though, when she shows up at Polly’s all black and blue.

Request: Can you write one with Arthur - 8, fluff from the prompt list? Where Arthur is the one asked to stay, him having thoughts of being incapable to calm somebody else while being emotional himself in the situation.

Requested by @kotkameow

Arthur Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: language, domestic abuse

A/n: This turned out real well, not as long as I wanted it to be but I’m happy nonetheless. Requests for oneshots are still closed but feel free to request gif imagines, headcanons, and/or prefrence. I should have those out quickly.

Masterlist

Blood poured out of the cut in her lip, the room spinning around her while she tried to push herself off the floor. She winced once weight was put on her feet, the adrenaline that had been in her system moments ago dwindling. 

Only an hour ago she had returned home from work. And only an hour ago her life hadn’t been complete hell. 

Y/n worked at the Shelby’s betting shop, mostly doing numbers as she had always been good at math. It wasn’t an ideal job in her mind, but once her husband lost his job at the bank, she was forced to find work to stay afloat. You would never hear her complain though. 

Working for the Shelby’s had its ups and downs, but she loved the job. Perhaps it was the fact that it kept her busy or perhaps it was the fact that she’d developed a rather personal relationship with her boss’s brother. But no matter, it was always better to be anywhere than home. 

Y/n’s husband wasn’t a violent man when she first married him. He was gentle, but never very loving. His work, his money, always meant more to him than anything in the world. Jim came from a wealthy family, one linked to the long-gone French monarchy, but that didn’t make him a gentleman. Y/n wasn’t aware of what her husband had done, but he’d done something bad enough to get him stripped of all his family’s money. So, he practically hoarded all the money that came into the house. Once he lost his job though, that’s when things started to go downhill. 

The first time he raised a hand to her was when their plumbing needed repairing and it cost more than Jim liked. What was Y/n to do, though? She wanted running water and didn’t care how much it would cost. But Jim cared. He always cared about the money that was spent and made sure Y/n knew it. Her husband became so angered by her spending, mostly over household items, that she started to save away a quarter of her paycheck to buy things that she needed for the house. 

It had never been bad, though. A bruise on her arm or cheek that would fade in a day. It was never more than that. His violent bursts were easy to conceal under the sleeve of a dress or a bit of vouge and for that she was thankful. She never wanted people to look at her, pity in their eyes, for what she dealt with at home. Y/n knew she was one of the lucky ones. Most women with abusive husbands had more wounds than she. She also knew that luck always ran out, just never expected her’s would run out so soon.

But one day, Jim had completely lost it. 

Being a fool, he thought it a great idea to put all his money in during a game of poker. Jim wasn’t one to gamble, he knew nothing when it came to cards, yet he wanted to test his luck. Turns out the man was clean out and ended the game with a few small coins to his name. When he came home, Y/n was cleaning the kitchen, about to start dinner when he started yelling at her. 

Leaning against the kitchen table, Y/n brought a shaking hand up to her lip, moving it away to see blood-covered fingers. She sighed as tears started to roll down her cheeks. What was she supposed to do now? Jim had stormed out of the house once he was finished beating her, but she knew he would return, likely drunk. 

In fear of his return, Y/n fetched her coat and slipped out the front door. Her face was black and blue, she knew, with cuts littering it from the rings Jim wore and that was likely how the rest of her body looked. She couldn’t look, though, not at the damage done. It made her feel weak, trapped in an unhappy marriage that would probably end in blood.

Y/n didn’t care much about her appearence once out on the streets of Birmingham. It was near 7 o’clock, most people would be in their homes, so she didn’t really care who saw her stumble down the street. Those on the street were men getting heading to the factories or children scavenging for food. None of them would even bother to glance at her, let alone ask any questions.

Anywhere was safer than home,she repeated the words like a mantra. Over and over to help calm her down. 

It was starting to get cold, a slight breeze sweeping between the buildings when Y/n came upon Polly’s house. She didn’t want to be a burden on anyone, but she was freezing and exhausted, home was far behind her and she refused to turn back. Her knuckles brushed against the door, fear bubbling up over the fact Polly might be home. After a minute or two, she heard shuffling and then the sound of a lock click before the door opened to expose the home’s owner. 

“Y/n,” Polly exclaimed, looking the girl over. Shock in her eyes, she frowned. “Come inside-” she grabbed her by the arm and gently pulled her in. Once inside with the door shut behind them, Polly finally asked, “What happened?”

Y/n shook her head, not willing to expose the secret she’d kept so guarded. Polly gave her a sympathetic smile and guided her into a chair at the kitchen table. The older woman then put on a pot of water and grabbed two cups out of the cupboard. 

“How long has this been going on?” she asked, pouring the hot tea into the cups.

She bit her lip, tears threatened to spill once again, taking a cup out of Polly’s outstretched hand. “A while, I guess.” A sigh escaped her after taking a sip of the warm beverage. “It’s never been this bad, though.” She choked on her words, a single tear sliding down her cheek. “But it’s always been over money.”

Polly shook her head, men were the downfall of the world. “Does Arthur know?”

“No.”

God, he was the last person she wanted to know, but the first person she wanted to run to. She couldn’t risk him seeing her in a different light, though. Seeing her as weak and small. Y/n was more than that she knew but didn’t appear that way covered in bruises. What would Arthur do anyway? He would only want to kill Jim, not what Y/n was looking for at that moment. 

“Let’s clean you up, dear,” she said tenderly, reminding Y/n of her mother. 

Standing up, Polly grabbed a washcloth and turned the faucet on, once tamp she wrung it out and brought it to the table. “It’s gonna sting, okay?” Y/n nodded before Polly placed the damp cloth against her skin, wiping the dried blood away. The two fell into peaceful silence before the front door opened, hitting the wall, and loud voices carried down to the kitchen. 

“I don’t see why I can’t,” John grumbled loudly, entering the kitchen. He was the first to lay eyes on the pair of women, quickly falling silent. Tommy and Arthur were right behind him, bumping into their younger brother, too involved in their conversation to see what had to stop him. 

“Fucking move,” Tommy shouted at him, shoving him out of the way. He was about to yell once more before his eyes fell on Y/n and the bruises that covered her face. 

Then Arthur saw her.

He didn’t say anything as he looked her over. He didn’t know what to say. His eyes quickly found something else to look at as Y/n made eye contact with him. Shame and embarrassment were evident in her eyes.

“What happened?” Tommy inquired, coming closer to the table. 

Polly stood, facing her nephew. “Nothing, now go. Out,” she tried to wave them out of the room.

John nodded, motioning to his brothers that he would be outside. It didn’t look like something he wanted to be involved in just yet, especially if Polly didn’t want them in the house. That woman was scary and he knew better than his brothers to make his aunt angry.

“That means you two as well,” Polly pointed at Tommy and Arthur. “Out.”

Tommy sighed and told Polly that they’d talk bout it later. “Come one, Arthur.” He patted his brother’s shoulder as he passed by him. 

Arthur turned to follow his brother outside when a hand clasped around his wrist. The man turned, hair falling in front of his eyes, to see Y/n looking up at him with tears in her eyes. 

“Stay. Please,” her voice was hoarse when she spoke, instantly reaching for her cup of tea when she finished.

Arthur just stood there, frozen. He had never been good with his own emotions, so how was he supposed to help someone with their own? Y/n looked like shit, worse than shit actually. But what could he do? What did she want him to do? The two were intimate but it never went further than bedroom activities. He wanted it to be more than that but she was married. 

“I-I,” he stuttered, unsure of what he should be doing. Tommy gave up waiting for his brother and went out to see where John went. 

Polly walked over to her nephew, handing him the washcloth. “Help clean her up, okay? She’ll be fine, you just gotta help her.”

He nodded, taking the cloth from her. Kneeling in front of Y/n, he took her hands in his and gave them a squeeze. “I got you, Y/n, I got you.”

Y/n gave him a weak smile as Polly left the room to give them some privacy. “I know.”

“Did Jim do this to you?” he asked, anger starting to build up. Arthur took a deep breath, doing his best to calm himself down. The last thing Y/n needed was for him to get angry.

She looked away, instead focusing on her cup of tea. 

“It’s okay, love.” He dapped a small cut under her lip. “You should have told me.”

Leaning into his touch, she nodded. “I don’t wanna go home, Arthur. I can’t.”

His heart broke at her plea. He never wanted to hear her so broken. Y/n was always the happiest person at the shop, never had he expected her to ever be in this position. “You can stay with me if you want.”

She nodded, “I’d like that very much.”

Arthur tossed the washcloth on the table and wrapped her in an embrace, kissing her forehead. “I’ll make sure this never happens ever again.”

*~~*~~*

Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist.

@amirahiddleston @haphazardhufflepuff @woahitslucyylu @mzcrazy2 @lovemissyhoneybee  @multi-fandom-iimagines

[supernatural-freek]

Heartbeat Highway

Dean x Sister!Reader, Sam x Sister!Reader

Synopsis: I have a little sister reader request. Could you do one where the reader has a heart condition and has to go to the cardiologist for her yearly check up? And the reader hates going because she feels like she’s not normal because of it. And the brothers comfort her through the entire appointment/tests. I personally have Pulmonary Atresia so if that could be the condition the reader has that’ll be great.

NOTE: If anything about this is wrong, I apologise. I did some research, but I don’t have the medical condition, so I may have gotten some things wrong.

REQUESTED

MASTERLIST

.

You’ve never been more terrified to go to a clinic.

Well, okay, maybe terrified isn’t the word for it. Because you aren’t scared. You’re actually stuffed full of loathing, and loathing doesn’t equal fear. Loathing is much more fun. Loathing is what makes you dig your heels in before your older brothers could usher you inside.

Dean sighs. “Y/N, come on. You were doing so well.”

“I’m not going in,” you say stubbornly, wrapping your arms around your torso and scowling. “C’mon, let’s just turn around and go back to the Bunker-”

Sam’s hand claps down onto your shoulder, pushing you forward another step. “You’ve gotta go in, bub.”

“I don’t want to.”

“We know.” Dean’s voice is gentler this time. “But you can’t skip this check up. Your condition isn’t something we can treat lightly, okay?”

Your frown deepens, but you’re no match for your brothers. Sam herds you forward a few more steps while Dean ducks inside to get you checked in. Once you’ve checked in, you know there’s no escape. “Why couldn’t Cas just heal me?” You grumble.

Sam’s sigh is sadder than Dean’s, stretched thin by years of clinics and doctors and that one memorable time you had to go to hospital in the back of an ambulance. “You know he’s tried,” Sam says. “You know he can’t fix something that was wrong when you were born.”

“He can fix Dean.”

“We both know that’s not the same.”

No it isn’t. And it’s not fair of you to put the blame on Cas. You know your condition isn’t something that can be treated with a flick of his fingers. You just wish it didn’t mean you had to be poked and prodded at every check up, wish you didn’t have to be careful about your blood pressure or monitor your breathing, or be careful not to sleep too much.

You let Sam lead you inside, finding Dean in the waiting room. It’s dangerous, having your brothers both here given that most of your family members are considered murderers and criminals, but it’s like Sam and Dean said.

You can’t just not go to the check up, and the only way to have the check up is to be yourselves.

Legally.

“See?” Dean says when you sit down next to him. “Nothing scary here.”

“I’m not scared of the clinic,” you shoot back under your breath. eyes flicking over the other couple of people in the waiting room. “I just hate being here.”

Sam sits next to you, his overly large frame swallowing up the tiny seat. It’s almost funny. “Why? You never used to mind when we were younger. Is it because Dad isn’t here any more?”

Ah, John. To his credit, the man had been dutiful with your medicine and monitoring your physical well being. He hadn’t let you hunt for years. He’d taken you to every check up. He’d cared. 

But once that demon had come back, and he’d taken off and left you with Dean, the invisible injury didn’t exist.

“This isn’t about John,” you say lowly. “And I would appreciate it if you kept your assumptions to yourself until you know what you’re talking about.”

Sam’s knee knocks against your in a wordless apology.

You legs twitches and jumps while you wait, belying your nerves. Dean and Sam are both content to just sit, but you can’t stop fidgeting. It’s not like you have to be here. You had the operation as a baby. You should be fine. You haven’t had any incidents.

You’re fine.

“Y/N Winchester?”

You jerk at the sound of your name, startling both of your brothers in the process. "Christ Y/N,” Dean hisses. “Tryna give me a damn heart attack?”

Sam reaches over and whacks him in the back of the head before you can respond.

The cardiologist runs a critical eye over the three of you before nodding and leading you down the hallway. You follow silently, pressing your hands to your stomach and pushing back into Dean’s space. His hands settle on you shoulders gently, steering you into the room and then lowering you into the seat.

The cardiologist clears his throat and smiles. “Hello Y/N.”

You manage a small, “Hi.”

“You’ve come in for your yearly check up?” The cardiologist, whose name tag reads Jameson, clicks rapidly on his mouse, eyes darting across the computer screen. “Yes, it says here you were born with Pulmonary Artesia, is that correct?”

“Yes sir.”

Jameson hums, clicking some more. Dean’s fingers settle on top of your head and you lean into his side where he stands. “Now, your file says you had a surgical correction procedure done, but you were in hospital for laboured breathing, dizziness and sleepiness a few months ago.”

Sam inhales slowly. “The hospital cleared her though, said she was alright.”

Jameson nods. “Yes, her records say that she shouldn’t be in any particular danger. You were both present during her time in care, yes?”

“Yeah,” Dean says. “And we were right there when she went through all the tests.”

“They said it was because her heart was beating too quickly,” Sam adds, glancing down at you. “Her body couldn’t keep up with the adrenaline and blood flow.”

“I see,” says Jameson and then he starts desperately clicking again.

You lean harder into Dean, biting your lip to stop it wobbling. You don’t like Jameson, don’t like how disinterested he is, how dismissive. He seems like the kind of doctor who’ll put you through more tests just because that’s something he can do, and then he’ll send you on your way.

Dean gently runs his hand down your hair. The tension in your shoulders eases only slightly.

“Doc, not for nothing, but my sister really hates these check ups. Do we have to be here long?” 

Sam shoots his brother an irritated look, but Dean simply looks down at you in answer. Sam’s face tightens in understanding.

Jameson stops clicking and stands, a bland smile on his face. You shrink back into Dean. “Her records say she doesn’t need any tests, so I’ll just take her blood pressure and check her heart beat, and she should be good to go.”

Thank fucking god.

You sit still and silent as Jameson does his thing, trying desperately to keep your eyes on the poster of a cartoon woman and her sick baby. You hate this, you hate this, you hate this. It’s one of the easiest check ups, but you hate it.

You shouldn’t have to go to check ups. You shouldn’t have to be so careful with your life. You shouldn’t have to pull your brothers into this too. This isn’t their problem. They don’t need this extra weight on their shoulders.

“One more thing,” Jameson says once he’s entered his results into the computer. “Y/N, you aren’t doing anything in your day-to-day activities that may cause you to feel overly stressed or anxious?”

Dean and Sam very suddenly seem to find the posters on the walls rather interesting.

You manage a tight smile. “No, doctor.”

Jameson returns the look. “Okay then. Have a great afternoon.”

.

The Impala rumbles to a halt on the side of some nowhere, backwater road where the trees are taller than most mountains. You’re in the front, like you usually are after appointments, and Dean is driving. Sam is in the back, headphones in and eyes closed.

“Spit it out,” Dean says once the Impala is turned off. 

You frown at the dash. “What?”

“Each year, you get more and more upset about your appointments.” Dean squints at you. “Tell me why.”

“You’re seriously quoting Back Street Boys at me right now?”

“Y/N.”

You sigh, looking down at your hands and you twists your fingers around each other. You’d hoped you could avoid this talk, like you do usually, but Dean seems strangely insistent on talking about it. God this family sucks sometimes.

Sam stirs in the backseat before you answer, taking his headphones out and blinking at the both of you. “What’s up?” He says blurrily, yawning hard enough to crack his jaw.

Dean never takes his eyes off of you. “Sis is about to tell us why she hates her appointments so much.”

“I don’t hate the appointments.”

“That’s not what it looked like from where I was sitting.”

“Dean...”

“I just want a simple answer.”

You lick your lips, a nervous tick you developed when you were three that never went away. It’s a fair question, and they deserve the answer, but it’s hard, okay? It’s hard to admit that there’s something wrong with you as a person, that there’s something fundamentally flawed.

Sam leans forward. “Y/N,” he says gently. “There’s nothing wrong with you, you know that right?”

Dean blows out a breath. “Is that what this is?” You flinch, but he doesn’t sound mad. He just sounds so very sad. “Baby girl, your condition isn’t a flaw or a problem. It’s just a part of who you are.”

“Then I’m broken,” you say miserably, splaying your hands slightly. “Okay? I’m not normal.”

“Normal is overrated,” Dean says fiercely. You scoff and start to turn away, but he leans over and pushes on you cheek insistently until you’re looking at him again. “No, Y/N, you listen to me. This doesn’t make you broken, or bad, or unnatural. This doesn’t make you a bad thing. You’ve seen bad things. You’ve seen monsters. You’re not one of them.”

“But I’m not a hunter.”

“You’re our sister,” Sam says softly. “That’s good enough for me.”

[apoguecalledjj]

If I Have You

I have a feeling that this won’t do as good because its Pope but I kind of love it so oh well :)

Summary: You have something in common with JJ, creating a close bond between the two of you, but Pope, your boyfriend, doesn’t know that.

Word count: 1927

Pairing: Pope x reader

Warnings: Mention of abuse, slight mentions of a panic attack, slight sexual content but no smut

Requested: No

All of you knew about JJ’s dad. It was hard for you not to, the bruises he constantly wore was not always from the kooks. It was something that had been known forever, for as long as you could remember the four of you had been taking care of JJ and giving him places to stay when he felt as if it wasn’t safe to go home.

You had decided not to tell the pogues about your situation, which was way too similar to JJ’s. It was easy for them not to notice as they had with JJ, they were much more focused on him, plus you had been the one to initially confront JJ, sadly, recognizing the signs.

Eventually, JJ had found out. You needed someone one night when it got worst than normal. Kiara was working, and John B was busy with Sarah. And you couldn’t tell Pope, the boy you had liked forever, because you didn’t want him to look at you any different. So you went to JJ.

The parallels in your home life drew you and JJ closer together, and soon you could easily say that the two of you were the closest out of all the pogues. You spent more time alone with each other than with anyone else, simply due to fear of going home, and having no one else to talk to.

You never realized this would be an issue when you started dating Pope. It never occurred to you that Pope would have some doubts about your friendship with the blond-haired boy.

“You spend a lot of time with him,” Pope said as he stood up to look at you.You were pulling on one of his hoodies, getting ready to leave his house.

“Pope, I spend time with all of the pogues,” You told him, grabbing your bag. Pope had to go to work, and he had offered to drive you home. You had declined, informing him that you were going to JJ’s instead because his dad wasn’t home and yours was.

“Not alone like that. You never spend time with just John B at the chateau.” He paused, before crossing his arms accusingly. “Are you fucking him?”

“What? No!” You stood up. “Do you really think I would cheat on you?”

“No. Well, I don’t want to. But, I don’t know. It seems like there’s something you’re hiding from me. Plus we haven’t slept together yet.”

You scoffed, shaking your head as you opened the door to his room. You had nothing to say to him after he outright accused you of cheating. You could hear him calling your name as you left, but you didn’t look back.

Deep inside, you knew you were being unreasonable. If you were in his position, you probably would have assumed cheating was involved too. But the pressure of telling him the truth was smothering you, a panic attack coming on just at the thought of revealing everything to him. You needed to get away, and you needed to talk to JJ.

---

“Y/N you need to try and breath.” The panic attack had followed you to JJ’s, and you now sat on his bed, trying your best to concentrate on your breathing like every other time this happened.

“JJ,” You exclaimed. 

He pulled his Juul from his mouth and leaned on the windowsill. “Mhm?”

“He thinks I’m fucking you.”

JJ’s eyes widened as he choked. He brought his hand to his mouth and froze, staring at the worn floor of his bedroom for a couple of seconds. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah. He knows I’m hiding something, and I couldn’t tell him he was wrong about that because he’s not. But, JJ, I don’t know how- I don’t know if I even can- I don’t know what to do.”

JJ noticed the tears streaming down your face and sat next to you on his bed, wrapping his arm around you. He passed you his Juul, knowing the nicotine would help you relax. “You need to tell him.” You shook your head quickly, ready to protest but JJ spoke again before you could. “You do. I know it’s scary, holy fuck I know. I couldn’t tell you guys, even though I wanted to every day.

“But you have to let him know. Having you guys really did help me a lot, even though I hate to admit it. And Pope isn’t going to look at you differently. He loves you, and you love him, and I know you guys haven’t said that yet but I know it’s true because you don’t shut up about him and he doesn’t shut up about you.”

You leaned into JJ a bit. “Thanks, Jay. I think I’m gonna tell him.”He simply nodded, gently kissing the side of your head.

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, before JJ pulled away and looked at you, deep in thought with curiosity prominent on his face. “How do you explain the bruises when you fuck?”

“JJ!” Your face burned, and you reached a hand out to smack his shoulder. “Uh- I haven’t had to explain them.” You said sheepishly.

“Oh my god Y/N you haven’t slept with him yet? You have to tell him now, you guys need to get laid! ” JJ burst into laughter, causing you to shrink into yourself with embarrassment. “I can’t believe you guys are still virgins,” He muttered teasingly.

“You know what, I’m gonna do it tonight.” You glanced at the time on your phone. “Right now, actually. He gets off in 15.”

“You’re gonna screw him tonight?” 

“JJ no!” You grabbed one of his pillows and tossed it at him. “Well, maybe. But I meant I’m gonna tell him.”

“Go get it, girl!” He wiggled his eyebrows at you suggestively before pushing you towards his door. “But only if you want to,” He added after some thought.

You giggled at him as you made your way to his front door. “Thanks, Jay, love you!” You called back to him before you left.

“Love you too, Y/N! Good luck!”

---

Your hands shook slightly as you knocked on the door to Pope’s place. Normally, you would walk straight in, but after earlier, it didn’t feel right.

Pope pulled open the door but didn’t give you his smile he normally did. Instead, he just moved to the side, inviting you to come in.

“I have to tell you something,” You told him once you got to his room. “Can you sit?” You sat on his bed, patting for him to sit next to you.

He opened his mouth to say something but decided against it. He sat next to you on the bed and turned slightly towards you. “Yeah. What’s up?”

You sighed, you could feel your heart beating in your chest as you nibbled on your bottom lip nervously. “I’m not cheating on you Pope, I promise.” Once again, he opened his mouth to speak but you brought your hand up, silencing him. “Please, please don’t speak until I’m finished. Please.”

You continued. “There is a reason we’re so close though.” You couldn’t look Pope in the eyes, scared to see his reaction. Your eyes widened and he reached out and grabbed your hand, squeezing it gently. When you finally met his eyes, he nodded at you, urging you silently to continue. He wiped away a stray tear from your eye as you continued.

“We have something in common, I guess that’s one way to put it. Sorry, I’m stalling, this is really fucking hard.” You laughed nervously, looking down at your lap. “Let’s just say there’s a reason I caught on so quickly to what JJ was going through at home.”

You didn’t say it, but Pope caught on. He inhaled deeply, rubbing his hand over his face as he stared blankly ahead. You sat silently, tears streaming down your face as you waited for him to say something, anything.

“God I’m an idiot,” Pope mumbled. “Fuck. I should have noticed. I should have never got mad at you earlier. Fuck, angel, I-” He trailed off, pulling you into his lap and wrapping his arms around you. “My princess, I’m so fucking sorry.”

You rubbed your eye as you smiled at him. “Stop it, Baby,” You scolded. “I kept it from you and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

He rubbed your back gently. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked softly.

“I didn’t want you to look at me differently.” You admitted.

He pressed his lips to yours quickly. “Angel, I will never look at you differently.” His left hand rested lightly on your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. His right hand was placed on your lower back, holding you closer to him. “But I do want to help you, always. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Pope is it- Is it okay if I show you? Do you want to see?” 

He bit his lip, nodding at you. His eyes were wet as you stood, pulling his hoodie you still had on over your head, followed by your shirt. Standing there in your bra, in front of your boyfriend, you felt vulnerable, exposed, as he took in the bruises littered across your skin. Bruises you were used to being hidden by t-shirts and one-piece swimsuits.

Pope’s heart broke as he rose from the bed, standing in front of you. His fingers brushed over your hips, over the marks you bore. “You’re beautiful,” He told you, staring straight into your eyes. “You are so beautiful. I’m so lucky.”

You stepped closer to him, forgetting that you were in just a bra as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I’m so lucky to have you,” You mumbled. “If I have you, I’ll manage to be okay. I love you.”

His eyes widened in shock at the words before he smiled at you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his body. “I love you too.” Your lips met his in a kiss filled with more passion than either of you had experienced before. He pulled away, kissing down your neck and meeting a bruise on your shoulder. He kissed it gently before coming back up to meet your lips.

Soon, you were both on the bed, your kiss becoming more frantic while still keeping the passion and love. It didn’t take long for articles of clothing to hit the floor as the two of you became more and more needy. He was gentle as he kissed down your torso, doing his best to stop and focus on every bruise.

Finally, what you had longed for but was too scared of happened, and you and Pope grew even closer in an intimate act of love and desire. You both took your time, wanting the moment to last as you took in each other in your most vulnerable selves.

After you laid next to him, your head on his chest. “I really, really love you,” You told him, grinning up towards him.

“I really, really love you too,” He responded, his fingers playing with your hair. 

You let yourself drift to sleep next to Pope, your boyfriend, the love of your life. You didn’t know what you would have to go through in the days to come, what would happen when you went home after staying out all night, but for now, you could manage to push it aside because you had Pope and for tonight, that was all you wanted to think about.

[thatgoblin]

Small Town Affairs Chapter 3

I called in sick for Saturday and Sunday at the club. It was stupid, what with Brock demanded double the payment, but I couldn’t bring myself to go there. Clint kept messaging me and calling me, but I didn’t pick up. I had to cut ties with him before his pack got in trouble. Maybe it was time to leave town. Just pick up and go without saying goodbye or anything.

Peggy would be sad, but she would probably understand. Brock wouldn’t care. John though, he’d track me down and bring me back. Unless I left on his terms, he would never let me go. The stress had a hold on me and the very thought of going to work on Monday had me nearly vomiting. What else could I do?

Monday rolled around and I felt awful. I almost gave in to calling Peggy, but I forced myself to go in. Instead of coffee, I opted for tea in hopes of it settling my stomach. It would leave me exhausted all day, but I knew coffee wouldn’t be a good idea. I made sure to cover any marks Brock may have left behind with foundation before heading out.

“Good morning, Hazel,” Peggy said from her office as I walked in. “How was your weekend?”

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” I said as I grabbed my paperwork and drawer.

“What’s happened?” She asked, standing up and following me. “Did Brock or John do something?”

“Peggy, it’s fine, I’m just tired,” I said with a groan as I put my things away.

“No, what have they done? Have they said something? Did John show up at your home?” She asked, pushing it.

“Peggy, please!” I cried, slamming my drawer shut. “I cannot talk about it. If I do then I will not be able to work, so please just let it go. I know you mean well, but I am not in a good headspace and would like to just get through my day with mind numbing work.”

She was quiet for a moment, not used to me snapping at her. I felt bad, she was just trying to look out for me and there I was being an ass to her.

“Alright then. If you decide to actually ask for help for once, you know where I’ll be,” she said curtly, her own voice wavering a bit. Turning on her heel, she went right back to her office to sit and work. I would talk to her later, maybe over dinner or something, but right then it was not good for me to open up about anything happening.

The morning rush came and went with no one asking about why I looked like the undead, but then again that’s probably why they didn’t ask. I had just finished my first break, having some tea and a danish helped my stomach settle as I was able to pretend nothing outside of work existed. But then the outside came in to burst that bubble.

We were slow, Peggy had gone to the bank for change and deposits, and there were just a few people getting small drinks from the vending machine in the back. It was quiet and I was able to calm down further, until John showed up. I knew my luck was running out because he wasn’t even giving anyone else a courtesy nod and smile.

“John, just leave,” I sighed as he came to stop at my register.

“Did he hurt you?” He asked, his voice low and hard. “He should have never laid a finger on you like that, Hazel.”

“You know damn well why he did it because you’re doing it right now,” I hissed back, looking around to make sure no one was paying us mind. “If you would just leave me alone, there wouldn’t be any issues.”

“He told me he was charging you double next time. I told him not to, that it wasn’t the deal and he knew it,” John said. I knew what he was doing, he always did it before when I was having issues with others. He would be the knight in shining armor and I was his damsel in distress.

“The reason this mess happened was because of you two, so stop acting like you’re innocent,” I snapped. “Now I am trying to work, so leave me alone and we can go back to the way things were with us pretending we didn’t exist to each other.”

“What if I don’t want to?” John said. His mouth was set in a firm line, his brow furrowed as he stared me down. “What if I don’t want to go back to pretending you don’t exist?”

“Well that’s too damn bad because I want nothing to do with you or Brock. Is it that hard to understand? You two blew it and no amount of crying or begging or bribing is gonna change that. We are through and if I could, I would have left town to never see either of you again,” I said. “So get it through that thick, stupid skull John and leave me the hell alone.”

“That’s how you want it?” He scoffed, sneering at me.

“That’s exactly how I want it,” I nodded.

“Be careful of what you wish for then.” Stepping away, he glared at me before leaving. I was shaking, full of anger and fear and frustration. It was a wonder I didn’t break down right there. That would be later in the afternoon when I was on break and Clint found me.

Sitting at the patio set that was behind the store, I was exhausted and just done with everything and everyone. All I wanted to do was go home and take a long, hot bath and have a few beers. Something simple that would let me quiet my head.

“Hazel?” Clint called as he rounded the corner to wave at me. I glanced at him before knocking back the rest of my tea. “Hey, how’s it going? Peggy said you were on break out here.”

“It’s going,” I said with a heavy sigh.

“Are you okay? I mean, Howard. . . He filled me in on what happened this last weekend and you weren’t answering my messages or calls-”

“Clint, we have known each other barely a week, what the hell do you think we are? Best friends? We tell each other every little secret and gossip about boys? I gave your mate several lap dances this weekend and he paid good money for them, maybe instead of bothering me with wanting to help, you should focus on your own pack because someone is obviously wandering,” I snarled. It was cruel and mean and the look on his face said it all. This wasn’t Clint’s mess and he was like Peggy, just trying to help. I had no right to talk to him like that, let alone throw his mate going to a strip club in his face. Howard had even said that Clint knew because he recognized me from the website.

“I get it,” he said softly. “You’re going through something. It’s scary and you’re angry and all your instincts are saying to lash out at everyone, even if they’re friends. I don’t know the details of your situation, but if you wanna talk or need a place to crash or any help I’m here.”

“You don’t even know me, why are you offering so much? What do you get out of it?” I snorted, shaking my head as my eyes stung.

“You’re a friend. My friend and if my friends need help, no matter the length of our relationship, I’m gonna be there. I needed someone when shit hit the fan for me and I didn’t have a friend or pack to help me, so if I can be at least one person in your life that offers you some support I’m gonna do it,” he said, taking the seat next to me. I was torn between pushing him away and falling into his arms because even with Peggy I had no one.

“I don’t. . . I don’t want you and yours in my mess,” I said softly, looking down. Sniffling I was on the verge of breaking down. “It’s just so much shit and it’s not worth getting hurt or worse over.”

“I will be the judge of that,” Clint said, knocking our knees together.

“No, Clint, it’s a lot and I can’t even ask Peggy for help. I can’t do that to her, let alone you,” I said.

“Then do this one thing for me,” Clint said. “If you just want to talk, I won’t follow up with any actions or tell anyone else, I’m here. You’re my only friend in this town and I appreciate you.”

“God, you city people are too nice,” I said with a snort, pulling my sleeves down to wipe my eyes.

“That’s kinda our thing. Well, our pack’s thing. You’d be surprised that half the time we find new people by accident,” he said with a chuckle.

“Somehow with the way things have gone, I don’t think I would be,” I said. Taking a deep breath, I stood up. “Well, my break is over and despite my emotional breakdown just beginning, I have to go back to work.”

“How about I bring you lunch tomorrow? We can have anything you’d like, I’ll even drive out of town for it,” Clint offered as he stood as well.

“You don’t have to do that,” I said. “But since you’re persistent, just a chicken sandwich special from the Maple Grill. It’s nothing fancy, but it beats a bologna sandwich.”

“Chicken sandwich special,” Clint nodded. “I got it. Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow, noon, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll be here,” I said with a nod. My chest wasn’t so tight and my stomach didn’t hurt so bad anymore. I was scared to think things might be turning up for me, but I wanted them too. “Clint, wait,” I said, grabbing his arm before he could go too far. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier. It wasn’t okay and you were just trying to help.”

“Water under the bridge,” he said with a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See ya,” I said, letting go to give him a wave.

Back inside, I ducked into the washroom to pat my eyes with some cold water before I went back to work. Peggy gave me a look as I came back to my register, but didn’t say anything. The rest of the day went by smoothly, some of the weight on my chest was gone and it was easier to breathe again.

“Need anything else, Peg?” I asked as I handed in my drawer and deposit.

“No, I think that will be all for today,” she said, opening the safe to put the money away. Spinning in her chair, she looked up at me as she took off her reading glasses. “I ran into John earlier today when I made some deliveries.”

“Oh God,” I groaned. “Peggy, I already told you-”

“No, listen,” she said, holding up her hand to stop me. “He’s worried about you and so am I. He told me about your conversation earlier and how you had a run in with Brock this weekend. I know you want to be on your own and have your own life, but maybe consider spending time with someone. Anyone. You’re isolating yourself and while I wasn’t going to say anything, you coming in upset this morning made me decide otherwise.”

“I know that you mean well, but I need you and John and Brock to let me be,” I said, forcing myself not to blow up at her like I did Clint. “I am trying to move on past them, but if everyone keeps trying to make me talk to them and act friendly with them it makes it so much harder.”

“If you still love them-”

“I don’t! God, Peggy, please!” I cried. “I don’t love them! They don’t love me! I was property to them! It may have looked so nice and happy on the outside, but it wasn’t! Towards the end of the relationship I wanted to die! They are not the good people that everything chooses to think they are!” I was losing it. Nearly a year of people trying to push me gently back to John and Brock had been tiring, but now with Peggy thinking I still loved them and that’s what I was struggling with on top of the past weekend had been my breaking point.

“Hazel, it couldn’t have been that bad,” she said, frowning as she looked at me confused.

“Not that bad?” I laughed. “Not that bad?” Shaking with tears no longer held back, I pulled off my long sleeved shirt despite Peggy protesting. “Does this look ‘Not that bad’!?” I cried, showing off the multitude of bite scars across my shoulders and back and neck. The short, half moon dips in my skin from nails digging in and tearing my neck, arms, and belly were on full display.

“Oh my God,” she gasped, covering her mouth. “Hazel, I am so, so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“No one does except me and them,” I said, pulling on my shirt. “Did you not think it was weird when I started wearing my hair down and long sleeves all the time? No one did. They didn’t bat an eyelash.”

“I just thought you were more comfortable,” she said softly. “It never occurred to me that they were abusing you.”

“It never does. Everyone has it set in their head that they’re the good guys and I’m this poor, pathetic Omega that was mentally unstable that they just wanna look after,” I snorted. “Even if people knew, they would still side with them because they like them more. John’s the sheriff and has been for the last five years and probably still will be for the foreseeable future. Nothing will happen to them, they’ll be fine.”

“But what about you? You won’t be fine. I’m sure that if people knew-” Peggy said before I stopped her.

“Think about it Peggy. Whenever an Omega comes out against an Alpha, especially a prominent one, what happens? Specifically in small towns,” I said. “What happened in your hometown?” She was quiet, realizing the answer. For as ‘liberal’ as she was, Peggy was still a product of her time and area.

“They were either called a liar and ignored till something worse happened or were forced to move due to the stigma,” she said.

“So what should I have done when the damn Sheriff is the Alpha that abused me? Because I would have loved for someone to tell me,” I said.

“I’m sorry, Hazel. You shouldn’t have had to go through that. No one should have to,” she said, pushing another rolling chair over for me. Taking it, I sat down to collect myself.

“It happened and there’s nothing I can do to change that,” I said, letting out a deep sigh.

“I know, but at least you’re not alone now,” Peggy said, reaching over to take my hand. I wanted to believe her, but then again she still didn’t understand it all. Clint was ready to lend an ear without giving advice or trying to fix things for me. It was strange to suddenly have this support after going it alone for so long. Almost like it wasn’t real.

“I should go home. I’m a mess and exhausted,” I said, standing up and pulling away. “Don’t say anything to anyone, okay? Brock doesn’t bother me and John only has a few times, but I don’t put up with him. It’ll be fine.”

“Then what were you stressed about from this weekend? What was that show of scars?” Peggy asked standing up. “If you’re fine, then why are you having a meltdown.”

“I’m not having a meltdown! If I was then you would know it,” I snapped. “Look, I just need to go home, okay? I don’t want to talk about it anymore, I don’t want anything done about it, so let’s just move on.”

Peggy was quick a moment before nodding.

“If that’s what you want,” she said softly.

“It is,” I said with a sigh.

“Very well then. I’ll see you tomorrow morning then,” she said, turning away from me.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” I replied. Grabbing my things, I left the store feeling almost as miserable as when I had arrived. I hadn’t wanted to hurt Peggy’s feelings, but it just felt like she was barely understanding what I was going through. I had to show her the scars left behind to convince her that I didn’t love John or Brock anymore.

The drive home was quiet and by the time I pulled into my driveway my stomach had finally settled. It didn’t last long though. There was a letter on my front door from my landlord, I knew his handwriting and he always left messages stuck in my door frame. I plucked it from the chipped wood to tear open the envelope.

‘As of next Monday, 5/29/2021, your rent due will go up $400.’

“You’ve got to be shittin’ me,” I snarled, opening my door as I pulled out my phone. When I called my landlord, he didn’t answer which I expected. However I did leave a lengthy message about how stupid this was and he couldn’t do that as well as hollow threats of getting a lawyer. There was no way he could have raised the rent so much suddenly without me signing something. Then again, did I have any money to fight it?

Stupid Brock and stupid John and stupid rent. I would have to just come up with the money. Sitting in my kitchen, I called Nick in hopes that I could start coming in more often. It would suck and I would be dead tired, but I wouldn’t be homeless.

“Sorry, no can do. All our dancers are showing up and doing extra shifts now. I was gonna give you a call to let you know that we didn’t need you this weekend. The owner is wanting me to lay off the part time dancers because we don’t have room anymore,” Nick said.

“Come on, what about serving? I can do that, I know you always have an extra need for those during the week,” I pleaded. “I’m desperate here, Nick. I got rent to make and my other job isn’t cuttin’ it.”

“I can see what I can do with that. It’s a downgrade in tips, but if you’re willing to work it I can see about getting you on from 9pm to close,” Nick said with a sigh. “That’d be everyday too. We can’t have part timers anymore. Owner wants us to cut down as much as we can.”

“Nick, I’ll take anything at this point,” I said. “Maybe. . . Do you know of any other clubs in the area?”

“Same owners, Hon,” he said. “It’s not just here, it’s everywhere.”

“Fuck, okay. Uh, let me know about the serving or if you need me to come in because someone else called out, just anything, please,” I said.

“I do what I can, but I can’t make promises. I’ll get back to you in a day or so,” Nick said. He was trying and that was all I could ask for.

“Thanks. Let me know when you find out,” I said, before hanging up. What the hell was I going to do?