#my pinterest is DAMNING right now because i really do want to be more visibly butch but so many of the recommendations don’t work for me

[howldean]

wait u look so good 😳 idk how to describe it u just look beautiful ykno

pshawww thank you

[dreamingmanip]

PROMPT LISTS FOR IMAGINES

HELLO GUYS!

It’s me, sorry for not being active this past month but it was crazy. Being an adult it’s not like how I’ve imagined it haha. But I made this two prompt list you can use to request me some imagines while I write the next story I’m working on.

As always, I only write for Jay Halstead.

It can take sometime but I hope not too long to get it posted. You can request here.

So here yo go.

PROMPT LIST MIX

You will find a mix of fluff, angsty,sad prompts.

 “Didn’t I kick you out?” “Yes, but-” “No. Out”.

 “You know you’re my favorite, right?” “I better be”.

 “I had a thought” “Oh no” “I swear it’s a good one this time”.

 “Damn right I’m pretty” “I said petty”.

 “You know you’re in love with her, right?” “Since when?” “Since pretty much always. That’s why I’m breaking up with you”.

 “What the hell are you doing here?” “Yeah, in this situation you’re not allowed to ask that question”.

 “It’s pointless to count stars” “It’s also pointless to count freckles, but I know you have 24 on the edge of your right hand”.

 “I need to de-stress” “Where are you going?” “To demolish the living room”.

 “I don’t think you were the type to lose your sanity for a girl” “I didn’t either”.

 “This is the biggest decision of your lives and you’re going to arm wrestle for it?” “Why not?”.

 “I’ve discovered I love you” “When did you discover this?” “Since all my decisions started to revolve around you”.

 “You look…” “Beautiful, I know. Can we move on?”.

 “I’m with you. No matter what else you have in your head I’m with you”.

 “Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?”.

 “Whatever possessed you to do that should possess you more often”.

 “You dreamt of this?” “Yes. Don’t judge me” “I’m not” “Yes you are, those are your judging eyes”.

 “Look at you, using fancy words at me. you’ve certainly grown up, haven’t you”.

 “Did any of these assholes mess with you” “No. You’ve marked your territory so hard they’re scared to even say ‘hello’”.

 “Why are your hands purple?” “That’s a very good question”.

 “Right now, I don’t know if I want to kiss you or shove you off a bridge” “Can I pick?”

 “I didn't have a choice then, so I’m making it now”.

 “Stop that. It’s too early for you to be in such a good mood” ''It’s four-thirty in the afternoon”.

 “I don’t give a damn” “You give so many damns they’ve visible from space”.

 “Really? A farm?” “Don’t judge me, I like the quiet”.

 “That’s definitely not true” “Of course it is. I read it on Wikipedia”.

 “I love you” “So, you finally admit it?”

 “Why are you still here?” “Because I care about you, you asshole”.

 “You tell me how it’s your fault, and I’ll tell you how you’re wrong”.

 “I don’t understand” “Do you trust me?” “Yes” “Then you know enough”.

 “What can I do to make you feel as beautiful as you look to me?”

Sources: Pinterest

writersencyclopedia.com

thefakeredheadwrites (thefakeredhead.com)

PROMPT LIST ANGST

“I mean, yeah, I didn’t need my heart anyway. Who cares if it breaks?”

“I was just kind of hoping that you’d, you know… fall in love with me”.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to love me”.

“Were you ever going to tell me?”.

“Sorry doesn’t fix everything”.

“It isn’t up for debate”.

“I don’t know what’s wrong, okay? I’m just… really tired”.

“I’m fine. Stop asking”.

“Pack your shit and go. Get the fuck out of my sight!”

“Is this how little you think of me?”

“Are you happy now? Huh? DOES THIS MAKE YOU HAPPY?”

“You said you’d always be there for me… so how did this happen? Why weren’t you there?”

“Did it ever occur to you that you’re hurting me too?”

“I’d rather leave than deal with you right now”.

“I did care. I used to care”.

“I’ve really had enough with your shit”.

“I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending they’re you!”

“Why do you run away from your problems all the time?”

“You can’t keep it all inside, you know? Bottling up won’t do any good”.

“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression”.

“I never stood a chance, did I? That’s the sad part, you did once”.

“Don’t you see I’m trying?”

“It 's okay. You can leave. They all do”.

“I wasn’t ready to say goodbye”.

“Stop pushing everyone away”.

“Don’t make this already harder than it already is”.

“Are you even listening?”

“What are you so afraid of?” “You!”

“This is all your fault”.

Oh, so you have a heart now?”

Sources: Pinterest

[strangerfictions]

Fight Part II

Prompts: “don’t give me space. That’s the last thing I want from you”, “I know I shouldn’t be here”, “What’s this between us?” - Pinterest

Summary: Billy told you something that you didn’t expect while you were suffering from concussion, so you ignored it until Billy started to ignore you. With the help of Robin and Max you realize you have something to tell him too, so you make the decision to talk to him and see where things go.

Warnings: A lot of angst and a bit of fighting maybe?

Words: 2194

Read Part One Here!

A/N: Okay so I have been working on this for a few weeks now. It has taken me so long thanks to both college and the fact that I had to restart it about five times because it didn’t flow well or just didn’t feel right. This is the first time I have done a part two of a fic I have written, and I am super happy with how it turned out. This has now been sitting in my rafts for well over a week and I have been meaning to post it! Hope you all enjoy! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

Edit: I had to repost this thanks to tumblr acting a bit weird but hopefully thi time it works out a little better!

It had been a week since the fight and things between you and Billy couldn’t be any more awkward. Billy still brought you to and from school but there was never much of a conversation. The night of the party was a little blurry for you thanks to the concussion, but you could remember everything he had said to you. You still couldn’t take it in, but you wanted to move on, but Billy was making that difficult for you.

It was a fresh week and you hoped that meant Billy would be back to himself. Like clockwork you hear his car come to life and you run downstairs shouting a goodbye to your parents. Before you even get into the car you can already tell Billy is still being awkward. He is sat bolt upright and refusing to even acknowledge you coming out of your house. You were sick of this and you were determined to say something.

When you get into the car you notice his black eye and split lip. You couldn’t help but wince knowing the exact pain he was in.

“Hey” Billy just nods driving down your street.

“Really? You are still being weird with me? Why are you so damn stubborn? It’s like you are going out of your way to make me feel like its all my fault when you were the one to confess to me!” You raise your voice slightly not meaning to, but you can tell from the look on Billy’s face that it has an effect.

“Fuck seriously Y/N? You know how hard this has been on me? First you beat up my fri3nds and then this shit. It takes two to have a conversation and last time I checked you didn’t put much effort in either!” You recoiled back into the seat a little as Billy begins to shout at you. You can feel your eyes begin to sting and so you turn and look out the window watching Hawkins pass by you in a blur.

“Maybe if your friends weren’t such dicks Billy, I wouldn’t have to get into a fight with them. They aren’t the ones who patch you up after every damn fight you get in are, they? They are all the type to peak in high school Billy and it looks like you’re going to be the same” Your voice cracks and luckily Billy pulls up outside school and you quickly get out before he can say anything else.

You walk towards the doors pulling them open as you hear Billy shouting after you. You run down the hall passing Steve and Robin who try to catch your attention before you go into the bathroom. You enter a cubicle and try to calm yourself down. You hear the bathroom door open and shut and the tap of shoes across the tiles.

“Y/N? You okay?” Robin calls out through the bathroom. You reach out and unlock the door pulling it towards you and leaving the cubicle.

“Yeah I’m fine. I had another fight with Billy and I just needed to calm down a little sorry.” You walk over to the sink splashing cold water on your face as Robin sits up on the counter beside.

“Again? I blame the sexual tension between you two!”

“Robin!” You were surprised she would even say such a thing.

“What? I always felt there was a little tension between you two and then I saw how he acted after the fight and I knew there was something going on there!” You nod knowing you had to tell her what he said to you. You check that all of the stalls are empty before saying anything.

“Well that night when he brought me home, he told me he liked me, and he has been really off with me and that’s what we fought about today. I brought it up and he got a little angry and so did I and we both said things we regret. As per usual…” You sit up beside Robin who has a massive smile plastered on her face.

“Wow I knew it. This is pretty big Y/N! Please tell me you told him you like him back because if you didn’t, I understand why he isn’t talking to you!” You wince at what she says remembering the night.

“I was concussed I didn’t know what I was saying!” You try to defend yourself, but you know Robin is right.

“Shit you’re right…I hate that you’re right. Can you ask Steve if he can give me a lift home?”

“I know I’m right I wouldn’t say it with full confidence if I didn’t know I was right! Yes, he will give you a lift he has no choice!” The bell rings and Robin pulls you towards your first class.

All day you have done your best to avoid Billy. You knew you couldn’t face him after everything you said. You knew what you said was wrong and would effect Billy because he already thought it was true. By last period you were ready to get home and collapse into bed and sleep for the rest of eternity, but you knew you had to apologise to Billy. Mo matter what it took.

By the time you got home both Steve and Robin had hyped you up to tell Billy that you do in fact like him a lot and that you regret everything you said. You wouldn’t blame him if he hated you for everything you said but a small part of you hoped things would work out. As you walk into your house you are hit with smell of cookies. It almost as if your mom knew you were having a bad day.

“Something smells good” You say as you push the door open to find the entirety of the Hargrove family sitting at your dinning table.

“Y/N! I invited the Hargrove’s over for dinner. I was a little surprised that you hadn’t come home with Billy” You put on a fake smile hoping it will conceal everything going on.

“Oh yeah…I had to stay behind and do some work with Robin for an English report so Steve said he would drop us both home. Actually, mom I’m not feeling to great I think I’ll pass on dinner I’m going to go and do my homework” Your mom doesn’t question anything and allows you up to your room.

You get changed into comfy clothes and get started on your homework. A little while later you hear a light knock on your door. You turn around to find Max standing at your door with a plate full of cookies.

“Hey kiddo!”

“Hey…I guessed you might be a little hungry since your not actually sick” Max sits down on your bed handing you the plate of cookies.

“How did you know?” You ask taking a big bite out of the still warm cookies.

“Billy’s guilty face” You smile knowing the exact face she is talking about.

“Funny this time it isn’t just his fault. I messed up…said a few things I shouldn’t have and now I need to apologise and tell him something pretty big” You sigh savouring the taste of the cookie before swallowing.

“That you like him?” You snap your head towards Max who has a big smile on her face.

“God first Robin now you…I swear you two are literally sisters separated at birth. How did you know?”

“Intuition and the weird tension between you. It’s very obvious…even my mom has noticed it” Max grabs a cookie and takes a huge bite out of it

“Shit…I…I’m kind of surprised by that actually. I guess I should bite the built all things considering. It’s not like I have much left to lose.” You finish your cookie and grab another one.

“Exactly! I better see you getting in his damn car tomorrow morning and him smiling because I’m sick of him being in this crap mood!” You nod knowing what you have to do now.

After awhile they all leave and its just you and your parents at home. You lay on your bed and think about what to do and how to tell Billy. You can hear the lull of the TV from downstairs as you take  in the noises around you. You hear the rain hit your window as you watch as it drips down hitting the frame.

Your parents go to bed early and you decide there is no time like the present. You get u and pull on a hoodie and some shoes. Thankfully you are on the ground floor so you can jump out of your window easily. You run across the road to Billy’s house. The rain getting heavier the nearer you get to the front of his house. You quietly walk around the side to his window. As you approach you can see his light is still on and as you get closer you can hear he is listening to Def Leppard. You stop outside his window and knock lightly catching his attention straight away. He looks up from whatever he is reading. You can see him visibly sigh as he gets up to open his window. You watch as he walks towards you. You cant help but feel the nerves build in the pit of your stomach. In one swift push Billy’s window is open.

“What do you want?” Billy whispers as you play with the sleeve of your hoodie.

“I know I shouldn’t be here, but can we talk please?” You ask quietly hoping not to wake his family.

“Why? So, you can insult me again? Don’t think so Y/N” Billy goes to close the window, but you place both of your hands on the windowsill.

“I’m sorry okay! I didn’t mean any of it and it was cruel of me to say those things because I know that’s the opinion you have of yourself. It was such a shit thing for me to do and I regret it so much because I might lose you and I really cant imagine life without you. I’m sorry about fighting with your friends, I’m sorry for making you look after me, I’m sorry for not telling you I love you and I’m sorry for being such a shit person sometimes” The rain is even heavier now as you continue to confess everything to Billy.

“Shut up and get in here” Billy holds out his hand helping you into his bedroom. As soon as you are in his room, he drops your hand and walk towards his bed throwing himself onto it.

“Thanks” You mumble shifting from one foot to the other starting to feel uncomfortable.

“So, you love me?” You look up from fiddling with your fingers to find Billy smirking at you.

“Uhmm…yeah I did say that didn’t I” You begin to pick at the skin on your finger as Billy stands up from his bed.

“And do you mean it?” Billy asks as he stops in front of you. You take a deep breath in before answering.

“I mean it, but I don’t want to make things weird between us” You say quietly

“I think it’s too late for that princess” You both laugh as Billy tucks a strand of hair behind you ear.

“So, what is this between us?” Billy takes you’re hand and leads you to edge of the bed sitting down together.

“I don’t know Billy whatever it is I don’t want to get hurt” You say holding his hand in yours.

“You know I’m not like” He was right you knew he wasn’t what the rumours made him out to be.

“But if you need space, I’m willing to give you it.” You hear Billy’s voice crack a little causing you to look up to find him looking away from you.

“Don’t give me space. That’s the last thing I want from you Billy!” You place your hand on Billy’s chin and tilt his head towards you. You can see the thoughts racing through his head as he begins to process everything. You are unsure on where you go form here but you hope it will involve talking to each other again.

“If you need space I…” Without thinking Billy leans forward and kisses you. You’re caught off guard and so when Billy realises you aren’t kissing back, he begins to pull away. You wrap a hand around the back of his neck and pull him back towards you, lips smashing together. The passion between you two fills the room and the tension lifts as the kiss continues. Billy is the first to pull away to catch him breath. You struggle to open your eyes after the sheer bliss you had experienced from the kiss.

“I don’t want space either…I guess we should go about this the proper way so Y/N will you go on a date with me?” You can’t help but smile at Billy’s attempt at doing things traditionally.

“Sure” Billy pulls you in for a hug as Def Leppard continues to play in the background. And just like that everything is back to being normal.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Tag List: If you want to be added to any of my future posts then click here to be sent to the google form!

@an-antisocial-writer​ @charmed-asylum​ @takemepedropascal​ @technolilly​ @multifandomgirl16​ @dreamin-of-dacre​ @1998--js​

[rosemary-morgan]

Josiah Trelawny X F.Reader: You deserve better - Part 9

(pictures found on pinterest)

Summary: As happiness begins to grow between you and Josiah, fate seems to be turning against you, bringing back old demons who are meant to destroy your happiness once and for all...

Warning: Violence! domestic violence! angst! strong language!

@gangofgunslingers  @lusus–naturae @smollittleflower @justcallmesweets @lostinthemiddleofnowhereofmymind @javiersponcho

If any of you wants to be tagged so as not to miss the latest chapters, let me know 😉

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 /Part 5/Part 6/Part 7 /Part 8

(¯`v´¯)                                                      (¯`v´¯) `*.¸.*´                                                        `*.¸.*´ ¸.•´¸.•*¨) ¸.•*¨) (`’·.¸(`’·.¸  ¸.·’´) ¸.·’´)  (¨*•.¸ (¨*•.¸`•.¸ (¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´ ¸¸.•¨¯`•               •`¯¨• ¸¸ `•. `•.¸) `•.¸) `*.¸.*´                                                       `*.¸.*´

You deserve better - Part 9 

  "And? Does the soup need more salt?" You let the soup melt on your tongue that Josiah was cooking, and a satisfied sigh came from your lips. The soup was perfect. "No. The soup tastes great!" Of course, Josiah was happy that you liked his vegetable soup. Josiah was a great cook, and he enjoyed spoiling you with his skills. "Thank you, my dear." You kissed the attractive magician on the cheek before you started placing plates and cutlery on the dining table. "I heard there will be a new show at the theater tonight!" Said Josiah, stirring the soup in the pot. "Oh? That sounds great, Josiah. What is it about?" "I don't know, darling. It's a secret. They probably want to surprise the audience." And Josiah would love to take you to the theater. He knew how much you loved a good show. As he hadn't expected otherwise, you agree to go to the theater with him tonight. But your peace shouldn´t last long...

There was a knock on the door. Josiah wasn't expecting anyone, and you got a little nervous even if you tried to hide it. Your fear of Henry was omnipresent. You often woke up at night by the tiniest noise because you thought your husband might be in this house. Josiah noticed that you got suddenly very tense. He walked over to you, gently stroking your arms up and down, looking at you with a smile. "It's okay, darling. Don´t be afraid." You nodded, taking a deep breath, and tried to calm yourself down. With great difficulty, you managed to smile at him. "I'll see who it is." Josiah left the small kitchen to check on the uninvited guest. When Josiah opened the door, he looked surprised at Arthur's face. He hadn't expected him. "Arthur?" "Josiah, I need to talk to you!" Josiah got a little nervous. It wasn't good that Arthur was here. The magician glanced over his shoulders, wanting to make sure you weren't behind him. "Arthur, this isn´t the right moment!" "But you should listen to me!" Arthur was worried about his friend. Dutch was slowly becoming crazy, and Arthur wanted Josiah to know about this. Josiah sighed softly and wasn't sure if he could spend a few minutes with Arthur. The magician wanted to prevent you from knowing about his dark secret. But in the end, he decided to listen to Arthur. He stepped out, closing the door behind him. "What is going on, dear boy?" Arthur sighed softly before starting to tell Josiah about Dutch's strange behavior. "Listen, Josiah! Dutch doesn't trust you!" "What do you mean?" Josiah laughed softly. "Nobody trusts me, dear boy!" It was meant as a joke, but Arthur wasn't kidding. The situation was serious. The young man rolled his eyes, sighing. "Josiah! I'm serious! Dutch wants me to keep an eye on you! In case you are going to betray us!" "Excuse me?!" When Josiah heard that, the grin on his face faded. Did he understand that correctly? So Dutch wanted to know exactly where he was when he wasn't in the camp? His private life was none of Dutch's business! "It's ridiculous, I know, Josiah. You need to get out of here! Leave this town! I have no idea what's going on with Dutch. But... he is not himself." The magician sighed heavily, looking down as Arthur continued to speak. Josiah shook his head as more details came out. "Dutch van der Linde is completely paranoid! Betraying him? Has he forgotten what happened in Rhodes?!" "He forgot. But I didn't, Josiah. That's why I came!" And Josiah appreciated that. Dutch's behavior had been really strange lately. "Dutch knows how to manipulate people, dear boy." The magician looked Arthur in the eye, placing his hand on his shoulder. "Be careful, my friend. Dutch is not the man you think he is. His words are like honey, but poisonous like snake venom!" "I'm afraid you're right, Mister Trelawny." "Thank you, my friend. For the message." Arthur just nodded, also placing a hand on Josiah's shoulder. He had to admit that he distrusted Josiah once, but the events in Rhodes had shown him that the magician was a loyal man. "I will probably leave you forever, dear boy." And to be honest, it was a relief to Josiah. He's been traveling around the country with the gang for a long time, but he wouldn't throw his life away for Dutch. Something other than Tahiti was waiting for him! A beautiful woman was waiting for him, who loved him more than anything. The magician didn't need more. "I'm not going to sacrifice my life to Dutch! Reality is waiting for me, Arthur! It's time to leave Dutch van der Linde!" "I know..." Arthur murmured, looking a little sad on the ground. He wished he had the same thing that Josiah and John had. A woman. A good woman by his side. "Farewell, Josiah." "I will miss you, Arthur. You had been a fine friend to me." "Oh, don't get sentimental now," said Arthur, chuckling softly. He looked into the magician's eyes, nodding softly. "Take good care of your girl." "I will! Thank you, Arthur."

Josiah saw Arthur slowly disappear from his sight. He was a good man. He had saved his life several times. "Farewell, my friend," said Josiah softly before entering his home again. He went back to his kitchen, happy to have you by his side. Suddenly, life looked so much brighter! "Forgive me, darling! I didn't want to keep you waiting. A good friend of mine came by spontaneously." You looked at him - with a somewhat uncertain expression that made Josiah's smile fade. "And why didn´t you asked your good friend to come in?" Your voice sounded a little brittle, and Josiah was visibly confused. What was wrong with you all of a sudden? "I uhm... he just wanted to tell me something important." You nodded when he said that, placing your hands on the chair as you swallowed hard and your eyes filled with tears. You had heard everything. It wasn't your intention, but you wanted to see if everything was okay since Josiah hadn't returned. At first, you thought everything was fine, but when the name Dutch van der Linde came up you became curious. Everyone knows about Dutch van der Linde and his gang. It wasn't right to overhear him, that's right, but you were glad you did. God! You felt so betrayed! Your heart tightened painfully in your chest. How could he lie to you like that? He was a member of one of the most dangerous organizations in this country! The gang of Dutch Van der Linde! You got very nervous when you thought about it. "Y/N?" Your disappointed and sad expression hit Josiah hard. And the magician sensed that you might have heard some of his conversation with Arthur. "Darling? What is going on?" He approached you carefully, but you took a few steps back, looking at him in fear. "Don't come closer, Josiah!" Your words felt like strong punches. His fears came true. So you had learned the truth about him and his life? The magician glanced down and didn't know what to say at the moment. What had he thought? That he could hide this side of his life from you forever? "You are a member of the Van der Linde Gang?! Josiah! Tell me that isn´t true!" You pleaded to him to tell you that your accusations were wrong! But his silence confirmed your words. You burst into tears, and Josiah bit his jaw hard, closing his eyes. Damn it! This wasn't planned that way! "Y/N... let me explain...!" "What are you going to explain to me, Josiah?!" You asked, sobbing softly. There were so much fear and pain in your eyes. My God, it brokes Josiah's heart! You didn't know what to say about this situation. You were so shocked! Had you been so wrong about him? But this love between you both... was it real? This relationship couldn't be based on lies! "I... I'm so sorry, darling! I didn't know how to tell you!" Josiah knew that he couldn't save this situation by words alone, but at least he wanted to try. When the magician approached you, you instinctively moved away from him, and that almost killed Josiah. "Y/N?" Were you afraid of him? But, no! He was still the man who loves you! He would never hurt you! But the look on your face, fearful and intimidated, shocked him. "Y/N, please! I'm still the man who loves you." But you only stared at the ground, sobbing softly and crossing your arms tightly. You felt so helpless at the moment. "I need to be alone now, Josiah." "Y/N... Y/N, please..." And without saying another word, you left the kitchen in a hurry. Josiah looked after you, and there was clearly pain and sadness on his face. He had never wanted you to be afraid of him. How could he ever do anything to you? You had every right to be angry with him. But he had never wanted to see that tremendous fear in your eyes. "Shit..." Josiah leaned against the table, sighing desperately. Was it the end of your relationship? Josiah didn't want to believe that, and he would fight for you! The love between you was something real and wonderful. It couldn't just end like this! But Josiah knew that for the moment it was best to leave you alone. He would respect your wish and leave you alone. You were a wonderful woman. Full of passion and love. Through you, he becomes a better person. Should your story end because of his lies? "I'm such a fool!"

When the door closed behind you, you burst into tears again. Have you been so wrong about this man? Who was this man? You felt betrayed, and suddenly very vulnerable. You had to admit that it scared you not to know who Josiah Trelawny really was. This whole situation reminded you very much of Henry. You also fell in love with him back then, letting yourself be hypnotized by sweet words and by his polite manner. What if Josiah also had this dark side in his soul? "Oh god, no..." You sighed heavily, placing your hands on your face, and tried to calm yourself down. You didn't want to believe that! Josiah would never be able to hurt you! "No... no, never!" With a sigh you stroke through your hair as you sit on the bed you share with Josiah. You needed a clear mind. Of course, you asked yourself why he lied to you. Why had he been hiding from you who he really was? When evening came, you were still in the bedroom. You hadn't shown up to Josiah, and he was seriously worried. The attractive magician had tried to speak to you several times, but you never answered him when he knocked on the door. Josiah was completely lost in thought as he sat in the living room. What should he do now? Would you ever be able to forgive him? "Y/N..." God, was this really the end of your relationship? Josiah sighed, stroking his hair as he closed his eyes. It would probably be best if he spent the next few nights on this couch. He was sure, that you wouldn’t tolerate his presence...

Two days passed, and in those days you shared only a few words. Josiah had apologized to you several times, but the truth about him still seemed to bother you. Josiah didn't blame you for that, but he missed you. He longed for your tenderness, for your love and sweetness. But like in the last nights before, you both lie down in separate beds.

Your thoughts were still circling about this situation. There were so many unanswered questions, and you were worried about how it will go on between you. You loved Josiah so much, and you won´t leave him. You knew he would never hurt you, but still, the perfect picture you had of him was destroyed - by his secret. Maybe it wasn't fair to judge him so hard. After all, you also had lied to him, and yet Josiah had forgiven you. You sighed softly, as you turned around in bed, looking at the empty place next to you. You needed Josiah's and you missed him. Maybe it was time to talk to him. He deserved a chance to explain his situation. Even though it was late in the evening, but you would not find any peace as long as this negative tension existed between you. You got up from the bed and took out the black silk robe from the closet. After leaving the bedroom, you thought about the good times you had shared with Josiah. He had always treated you with respect. It was dark in the corridor, so you assumed that Josiah was already asleep. This conversation would also have to wait until tomorrow since you didn't want to disturb him. You sighed softly as you turned to go back to the bedroom, but suddenly you felt two strong arms wrapping around your torso. You let out a frightened scream, but your voice was softened when the stranger pressed his hand on your mouth. You panicked because you didn't know who this stranger was. Nevertheless, you could feel that this was a male person. But you quickly realized who this stranger was. You recognized his aftershave immediately, and pure panic overcomes you. "Hello, my sweet! Did you missed me?" Henry! It was Herny! So he had found you, and you knew that your life was in danger. You were terrified, and you disliked the closeness to this man. Suddenly, another thought sneaked into your mind. Where was Josiah? Was he okay? You were worried about him because you knew what Henry was capable of. You tried to get out of his grip, but Henry was too strong. "Mhmhmm!" "Schhtt, schhtt! Calm down!" But you didn't even think about staying calm! You would never go back to the hell you lived in. The next moment you bit his fingers, and he immediately removed his hand from your mouth. "JOSIAH!!!" You screamed as loud as you could, hoping that Josiah would hear you. "JOS...! MHMHM!!" "You filfthy slut! Still as stubborn as a donkey! But I'll take care of that!" You angered Herny, but he would show you the consequences another time. Herny was going to demonstrate something to you, and he was especially looking forward to it. He dragged you through the dark hallway, heading for the living room. "I´ll take you to your fancy lover! He's in good hands!" When you heard that, you fear the worst! You only fought harder, but you couldn't get rid of Henry. Your heart was beating wildly, panic was written on your face. "You will come back to me! You are my wife!" You heard laughter coming from the living room, then you heard soft moans. It sounded painful, and that gave you a terrible stomachache. Henry dragged you into the living room, and although there wasn´t much light, you were able to see Josiah. He was lying on the floor - badly hurt. When you saw that, you tried to scream, but Henry was still covering your mouth, laughing softly. Your ex-husband hadn't come alone. "Do you see what you've done, Y/N? Mister Trelawny is injured because of you!" You closed your eyes, trying to escape this horrible sight. It hurt you deeply to see Josiah in this condition. When Henry removed his hand from your mouth, he grinned contentedly. He heard you whimper and sobbing, and he enjoyed this very much. He wanted to see you suffer. But that was just the beginning. You had no idea what this man was going to do to you. He would make you pay for cheating on him! "Let me go, you pig! JOSIAH!" You called for the magician, tried to get to him, but Henry didn't allow that. You had to stand by and watch Josiah being beaten by two strangers. "Don't touch him! NOOOO!" Henry turned you around, looking deep into your eyes. "You bastard!" You spat in Herny's face, and you didn't care about the consequences. Henry roughly reached into your hair, pulled your head back so that you gasped in pain. "I'm going to beat this stubborn and rebellious manner out of you, whore!" "Go to hell, Henry! You dirty piece of shit! I HATE YOU!" Henry slapped you, causing you to fall the floor, and you become very dizzy. Josiah heard what was happening, even as he was about to lose consciousness. Herny's men had beaten him hard, but that didn't stop the magician from protecting you. At least he hoped he could do something for you. But it was hopeless. "Y/N..." One of the men kicked Josiah hard in the ribs as he tried to stand up. Josiah collapsed, moaning painfully.

You heard Josiah's voice, but it sounded like he was far away from you. You blinked in confusion, tried to see something in this dim light when you were suddenly pulled back on your feet and dragged in Josiah's direction. "You know what, Mister Trelawyn? I have no intention of killing you. No!" Josiah looked up at your tormentor, his eyes full of contempt and hatred for this man. The man who tortured and hurt you. The magician regretted not having killed Henry when he had the opportunity. Now you both had to pay for this mistake. "I want you to know that Y/N is my property!" Henry pulled you tight to his chest, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, he nestled his nose into your fragrant hair. When you heard Henry gasping into your ear, you whimper softly. His closeness, his fragrance, his voice - all of this was unbearable for you! "I want you to know, that I'll be the first thing she sees when she wakes up in the morning." "No..." you whispered desperately. These thoughts were terrible and disturbing. Why did this all happen? That was not fair! Henry roughly grabbed your chin, turning your face to kiss you. Henry wanted to make it clear to Josiah who ultimately won this fight. Josiah closed his eyes, swallowing hard, unable to bear the fact that this swine was kissing you. You turned your face away from Herny when his rough lips touched yours, whimpering desperately. Your body trembled, and you were afraid, knowing there was no way out. "Do you know what I'm going to do with your whore, Trelawny?" You heard your pulse beating loudly, your trembling breath, and you heard your own blood rushing through your ears. The fear had you under control. The fear of hearing the words that will come out of Henry's mouth. "I will let her bleed. For her betrayal and adultery. She will seek death, but she won´t find it!" "STOP IT, YOU ANIMAL!" "She belongs to me! Her body belongs to me! Her sweet lips belong to me!" "I... haahh ...will find you, Herny! I will find you! And then pray to God for mercy... arghh...!" It was terrible pain that tormented Josiah. He already spat blood with every cough. "Teach that fancy boy a lesson! Make sure that he won´t forget this night!" "NO! JOSIAH! NOOOO!" The men knocked Josiah down, beating him again and again. You were terrified to see how they tortured Josiah. "YOU´RE A MONSTER! MONSTER!!!"

You started kicking Henry, hitting on his head with your fists, punching Henry several times in the face, and even leaving deep scratches on his skin. You even manage to get out of his grip, and you run to Josiah. You jumped on the back of the man who tortured Josiah, trying everything to prevent him from doing more harm to your loved one. But unfortunately, your attempt wasn´t very successful. Josiah's tormentor threw you to the ground with little effort. You landed on the floor with a loud rumble, but you didn't felt any pain. Fear and anger made you insensitive in this situation. But there was nothing you could do for Josiah. Everything was already lost. "Come here, you little beast!" Henry suddenly stood by you, grabbing your arm, and dragged you to your feet. "Time to go home!" "No! Let me go! LET ME GO!" Josiah knew what Henry is going to do with you, and he couldn't bear this thought. He was calling desperately for you, but Henry was taken you away from him. He heard your cries, your screams, and it tore his heart into thousands of pieces. The kicks and punches that these two men caused on him were barely noticeable. His body was numb from pain, and eventually, he faints...

(¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´(¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´(¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´(¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´

"You dirty whore!" Henry insulted you, shouted at you while he dragged you along the corridor. You were still trying to fight back, but Henry held you tight, and your left arm was completely numb. When he entered the living room, he throws you on the floor, and you looked up at him with an expression of hate and fear. You saw how angry this man was. His face and neck were flushed, his carotid artery throbbed, and you knew that Henry would beat you to the point of unconsciousness. As he got closer to you, you immediately rose from the floor and backed away, even if you knew there was no way out of this situation. "I was waiting for this moment, Y/N! I will tear your heart out of your chest! You will bleed for your unfaithfulness, you whore!" "YOU SICK BASTARD!" Henry slapped your face, causing you to scream in pain when his big hand landed on your cheek. "If you act like a rebellious whore, I'll treat you like one!" Henry gripped the back of your neck, forcing you to follow him. You looked with fear at the stairs that would lead you up to the bedroom, and immediately you began to wrench, trying everything to escape from his firm grip. "NO!" "Move! Come on!" Henry had to admit that you were very stubborn, and he had problems taming you. It only made his angrier, and he would enjoy punishing you. He will show you once and for all, that you were his wife! You belonged to him, and no other man would ever own you! "You won´t escape me, Y/N!" When Henry climbed the stairs, you managed to free yourself from his grip, trying to escape this demon. But you didn't get far, and Herny lost his patience with you. When he reached for your arm, you looked at him with fear. "No! Don´t touch me!" Suddenly, he punched you in the face, and you instantly lose your equilibrium. Herny did the rest - he pushed you down the stairs. Screaming, you rolled them down, feeling how you painfully hit each stair one by one, and when you eventually landed on the floor, everything becomes black...

Henry looked down at you with a cold expression. He was satisfied that you were finally still, and he smiled down at you. He felt strong because he had finally regained control of you. ..

[bitter-sweet-farmgirl]

Modern Writing Prompts

This is just a compiled list of prompts I’ve collected from Pinterest and other random places, but really only work in modern contexts.  I have other prompt lists that get more specific or more vague as well.  If you want to use one in a request to me, just use the following ‘Character Name and Prompt No. 35 from the Modern Prompt list’ for example + some details if you’d like.

There’s quite a bit on this list, so be wary....  I mean, it’s only like 130 prompts...  Also, I did not organize it.

Key:  

‘*’ Denotes something that could be used as dialogue.

[*] Denotes a swear word that I removed.

"If I was your boyfriend, I'd pepper you with kisses and spoil you so bad."

"My family thinks we're dating."

"It wasn't meant to go this far, I swear."

"You were ready to leave me for her."

"There is no us.  There never was."

"Don't leave me.  Don't you dare leave me."

"You know for a [*] fact that wasn't supposed to happen."

"Sort yourself out first."

"Leave.  Before we wake up regretting what we've done."

"All he ever did was use you?  Why can't you see that?"

"You think this will make me stay?"

"You thought this was real?"

"My mum asked about you again."

"He already knows."

"Can you please come and get me?"

"I'm at the hospital."

"I don't know where I am, help me."

OTP on a hammock together.  Person B is asleep on Person A's chest while Person A keeps one foot on the floor so they can rock the hammock in hopes of Person B remaining asleep.

"It's three in the morning."

"You're my regret."

Take me laser-tagging and then push me into a corner and kiss me.  Then shoot me and walk away.

"Smiles are contagious."  "Don't worry, I'm vaccinated."

"Did it hurt?"  *Rolls eyes "Let me guess, when I fell from Heaven?"  "No."  "What?"  "When you fell for me."  *Grins*

"So...  What's our plan for tonight?"  "We do not have a plan--"  "Well, let's make one."  "--I have my own plans that don't include you."  "I thought we were a team!"  "We are.  Which is why I need a break."  "You need a break from me?"  "Yes...   So I'll still like you in the morning."  "Wow.  I'm that bad, huh?"

Which person of your OTP furiously does push-ups while the other sits on their back and reads a magazine.

He found her sobbing in the stairwell at work.

As teenagers, a boy and a girl agree to marry if neither have by their 35th birthday.  Follow the boy as he attempts to sabotage every relationship the girl has till then.

"I don't care where I'm sleeping as long as it's with you."

As she walked towards the exit of her favourite coffee shop, she glanced down at her cup.  "You're beautiful."  Was written in place of her name.  She glanced back and their eyes met.

She opened her apartment door to hundreds of roses.  She knew they were from him;

he'd found her.

"I've had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with."

"No, you can't get up!  You're my prisoner for today."

"Shh...  It was just a bad dream.  Just a dream, okay?  None of it was real."

"You.  Cuddle.  Me.  Now."

"Baby, you'll never know me."

"I don't give a damn."  "You give so many damns they're visible from SPACE."

She gripped the rim of the porcelain sink and tried to steady her hands.  "One last time."  She whispered to herself.  One.  Last.  Time.

"Keep looking at me like that," he warned, leaning casually on into the counter and sipping his coffee.  "And see what happens."

She looked up at him, tears filling her already swollen eyes.  "But why?  Why would you love me?"  He tightened his grip, pulling her more snugly into his embrace.  "Because you bug me, weirdo.  Duh."

"Just relax, I'll wash your hair for you."

"I'm not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention."

"Are you wearing my shirt?"

"You are ridiculously comfortable..."

"You know how to unlock handcuffs with a paperclip?  Teach me!"  "Absolutely not."

"I've never been so scared in my life."  "It was a bubble..."

He was leaning against the wall trying to support his own bodyweight, and his gasps of pain were like music to her ears.

Your date drops you off.  A few minutes later they return to your door sopping wet from the storm because their car broke down.

The phone rings.  The voice on the other end says, "We need you again."  Then hangs up.

A boy and a girl were part of the same team for their high school sports camp.  The girl had a crush on him for a very long time, but was not sure how to say it to him.  In spite of that she mustered some courage and casually said, "hey...  You know what?"  "What?"  "You have the prettiest smile I have ever seen."  The boy's eyes glittered and he replied, "you know what?"  "What?"  "That smile exists only because of you!"

"Did you get my note?"  "Of course I got it.  You taped it to my forehead while I was sleeping."

"It's not my birthday."  "It's definitely your birthday."  "Give me a calendar.  It's not and I will prove it to--Oh.  Never mind.  Happy birthday to me."

As she stepped on the train, I fought ever urge to climb on after her.

"C'mere, you can sit on my lap until I'm done working."

"Just pretend to be my date."

"Handsome, broken, and a mistake from the beginning.  Are you sure you're comfortable with this?"

"Are you decent?"  "Not morally, but I'm wearing pants if that's what you're asking."

He was bad.  He smoked, he broke the law, he drove too fast for his own good.  He

didn't care because nobody taught him how to.  But when it came to her, he wanted to be the best man.  He couldn't bare the thought of her being hurt by him... Or anyone else.  He would kill to protect her, the girl who cared about someone as worthless as him in all her perfection.

"I want to take a shower, so you should probably join me.  It'll save water."

"It's midnight!  Where the hell were you?"

"What the hell is your problem?"

"I might have slept with your [clothing article] when you were gone."

"No one has to know about us, I know this could ruin you."

"Are you really gonna leave without asking me the question you've been dying to ask me?"

"You said I'd get to have you all weekend.  Why can't you just tell them you can't go?"  "Because it's my job and it's important."  "And I'm not?"

"You can call me whenever you want...  Even if you don't have a reason to."

"I'm bad at texting first, so I always end up hoping you will."

"This movie is really scary, but you're into it so I'm trying not to cover my face the whole time, but--WHAT IS THAT?!"

"Wait, don't pull away...  Not yet."

"You look really cute in that sweater."

"No, like...  It's just, I can't believe you're actually wearing my clothes."

"You know I hear you talking, but I still don't have my coffee."

"Did you think I really cared about you?"

"It's too late to go back."

"I'm sorry this had to go down like this."

"That's right, I lied."

"Just so you know... I don't regret anything."

"You will no longer love me if you see who I truly am."

"But I did all this for you...?"

Person A wins a big stuffed animal for Person B at an amusement park and offers to carry it for them.  Person B says they'll carry it themself, and carries it around smuggly.

While on a date, Person A very shyly touches Person B's hand and Person B reassuringly (and tightly) holds Person A's hand.

"Please get home safely."

"I've got you, baby."

"Man, I can't pay attention to anything else but you."

"Baby, I'm right here.  Shh.. I'm here."

Person A: *does something stupid* Person B:  "....Why are you like this?"  Person A:  "Aww, come on!  You know you love me!"  Person B:  "...Where did you get that idea?" *Joking*  *Silence* Person A:  *Sniffles* Person B "WAIT I'M SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN IT, I LOVE YOU!"

She was the broken and battered girl who longed to be loved.  He was the misunderstood boy who only wanted to love.  She had never paid him any attention until today, when she bumped into him at her locker, causing everyone to stop and stare.

"I'm coming to get you, stay there."

"Are you safe?"  "I don't know."

"Can I at least buy you a coffee?  For old times sake?"

"Don't talk to me.  It's 6 AM and I haven't had coffee yet, so anything I do or say cannot be held against me."

"Dude, that jacket is mine, give it back!"

"YOU USED MY TOWEL?!"

"They're going to love you, don't worry!"

"Stop hogging all the blankets!"

"Wait, when did I take off my clothes?"

"I'm fully convinced you never graduated kindergarten."

"You have no idea how to make toast?!"

"I haven't showered in four days."

"You're more zombie than human."

 "I can't believe I got the first date, let alone a year."

 "Wanna, like--I mean if you're not busy...  We could get lunch?  Or even just coffee if you don't have a lot of time."

 "So I was driving past a pet store and I couldn't help but wonder how cute an animal would be in our home."

 "It's midnight!  Where the hell were you?"

 "I wish I had a camera."

 He/She crashed through the doors of the police station and slammed his/her hands against the steal counter.  "Give me back my wife/husband!"

 The rain came down in heavy sheets.  He pulled his soaked [type of hat] down to protect his eyes and moved forward.  Where was she?  Would he find her in time?  A darp shape against the bridge railing caught his eye when the lightning flashed.  He rushed forward and grabbed her arm, spinning her around to face him.  He couldn't tell for the rain if she was crying or not, droplets streamed down her face.  Her mouth opened to let out a cry, but when she saw it was him, she pleaded with her eyes.  He only nodded and put his arm around her.  He'd protect her.

 "It's me!  It's me!  Calm down, baby, please."

 "Is the movie too scary?  I can stop it if you want and we could watch something else."

 "Watch, this is the best part!"

 I chose that part in the play only so that I could kiss her.  I hadn't thought about the acting pact, the prancing onstage before a packed audience, or about the make up.  All I wanted was to finally touch her face, kiss those lips, have my moment, even if that was all I ever had.

 It's not like she meant to trip and spill coffee all over him.  It was just the way of her people.

 I woke up, to find a boy's arms wrapped tightly around my waist.  "What are you doing here?  I thought I told you to sleep on the couch!"  I was in disbelief.  I pried his hands off me and it was only then that he stirred.  "Huh?  Oh.  I um....  You had a nightmare."  He face was suddenly serious.  "Who's [guy name]?"

 Person A and Person B share an apartment but have separate rooms.  Person B has a nightmare one night and is really rattled by it.  They get out of bed and walk down the hallway to knock on Person A's door.  The door is already open and Person B walks into the room silently.  They go up to Person A's bed to find that they're already awake.  Person B tells Person A that they had a nightmare.  Person A scoots over in the bed and lets Person B curl up with them and they fall asleep together.

 Person A and Person B are in the kitchen.  Person A is short while Person B is slightly taller.  Person A:  *Struggles to retrieve items from top shelf*  Person B:  "Do you need me to get it for you?"  Person A:  *Gasps*  "How dare you insult the vertically challenged!"  Person B:  *Laughs* "Okay then..."  Person A:  (Moments later) *Defeated sigh* "Help meeeee...."

 Person A:  *Completely serious*  "I have to get something off my chest."  Person B:  *Fingers crossed* "I hope it's your shirt, please..."

 Person A is noticeably disheveled as they enter the room.  "Sorry I'm late, I was doing stuff."  Person B, also disheveled and grinning smugly follows behind.  "I'm stuff."

 Person A has an online business meeting with someone important who lives across the world so they have to stay up late for the meeting.  Person B doesn't want to leave Person A alone so they grab a pillow and lay in Person A's lap as they attend their meeting.  Bonus points if Person B accidentally smacks Person A in the face in their sleep and everyone laughs and calls them cute.

 Imagine you've been stood up by your boyfriend on date night and the waitress keeps asking if you're ready to order, but you keep asking for more time, hoping he's just late.  People are starting to look at you with those apologetic looks like they know and you start to feel worse and worse about the whole situation, but just as you get up to leave, this boy you've never seen before sits down explaining loudly, "sorry I'm so late, Babe.  Traffic is crazy right now."  And he quietly adds, "I'm [NAME].  Just go with it, yeah?  Whoever didn't bother to show up is a jerk."  And you do go with it because he's being sweet and trying to save you, (plus he's super cute), and as you're leaving the restaurant after the best non-planned date ever, he asks you out for real this time.

 "That has got to be the lamest pick up line in existence."  "Don't worry that's just Plan A."  "So what's Plan B?"  "To take you hostage."

 "I love you from the bottom of my heart, but I don't trust your cooking.  Stay out of my kitchen."

 Person B dancing around their home, headphones in, eyes closed, singing as loudly as they please to their favourite song while Person A stands in the doorway watching their oblivious partner with a loving smile on their face.

  Person A walked into the house, threw their bag on a chair and laid down on the carpet with an air of defeat.  Person B walked in a few hours later, saw Person A on the ground and set to work.  They picked up a few blankets and a couple of pillows.  Then Person B walked over to Person A, laid everything out, and proceeded to lay down with Person A.  Person A slowly curled up to Person B and fell into a restful sleep.  Five hours later, they're still there, just soaking in each other's presence.

 Person A was sitting up in bed, headphones on and staring intensely at their Ipad

screen, which flickered brightly in the dim room.  Person B rolled over and slowly sat up, glancing at the clock and seeing it was well past 2 AM.  Person B leaned up against Person A, eyes still closed and asked why Person A was still up.  Person A popped out an earbud and quickly [states reason] and then turned their attention back to the screen.  Person B yawned loudly, grabbed the device and tossed it off the bed.  Right before Person A could protest, Person B curled an arm around them and forced Person A to lay down.  Person A fell asleep within minutes, tucked securely within  Person B's arms.

 Imagine your OTP getting ready for bed, and Person A is sitting on the bed.  Person B tries to sneak up on them with a hug or a kiss, but Person A has quick reflexes and thinks they're being attacked.  So they accidentally hit Person B in the face and they fall back onto the bed.  Person A quickly realizes who it was then and keeps saying sorry really fast and hugs them and kisses where it hurts.

 Person A has finals coming up and Person B has already finished theirs.  Person A is stressed over the finals and breaks down one night lamenting their ability to do anything right.  Person B calmly picks them up, brings them to bed and cuddles with them, cooing to them and telling them all the wonderful things Person B loves about Person A.

 Imagine Person A walking into the kitchen, only to find Person B in tears.  Person A immediately rushes over to Person B's side, fretting over them, consoling, and asking what happened.  Surprised, Person B explains they were simply cutting onions.

 Person A is baking cookies and has to split their attention between watching the timer and fighting off Person B, who keeps trying to steal cookie dough from the bowl.

 Imagine your OTP making out on a couch, but then one of them accidentally rolls off and the other is either frantically asking if they're okay, or laughing their head off.

 Imagine your OTP ice skating and one of them falls.  The other tries to help them up but they lose their balance and fall on top of the other.

 You were studying for your exams in a few weeks, your boyfriend was sitting opposite you, simply staring.  You couldn't concentrate and were getting frustrated.  "Stop it!"  You yelled, slamming your pencil on your book.  "Stop what?"  He asks, smiling innocently up at you.  "Stop staring, stop making me want you, stop making me feel--argh just st--"  He shut you up, placing his soft lips on yours, letting all the stress wear out.  "Stop stressing babe, it won't do you any good."  He mumbled, placing his forehead onto yours.  "Come here."  He insisted, patting his lap.  You happily accepted, moving over to him and plunking yourself down.  He wrapped his arms around you and you rested your head on his chest, hearing his heart beat.  "That's enough studying for today, babe.  You'll ace that test, okay?"  He kissed your forehead, rubbing your arms.  You nodded and rested in his arms, feeling safe and sound.

 What if he held you tightly in his arms as you lay on his chest, drifting into sleep by the sound of his steady heartbeat.  Feeling the slight vibration of his lungs as he hummed softly.  His hands brushing lightly in your hair as his lips pressed against the top of your head, but stayed there for awhile.  Then he let out a faint sigh, taking his lips away, seeming to be deep in thought.

 You shift around in bed, trying to find a comfortable position.  No success.  You hear your boyfriend stretching.  "Can't sleep, babe?"  He asks, letting out a sleepy sigh.  

"Come here," he whispers.  You move over to him and he snakes an arm around your waist and wraps his leg around yours as you rest your head on his bare chest.

 As you lay in bed alone, struggling with reaching sleep, you toss and turn before huffing out in annoyance at still being awake.  A small fraction of light creeps into your room until the door closes and the edge of your bed dips down underneath his weight.  He carefully climbs under the covers, reaching an arm out for you, pulling you closer to his body with your back to his front.  "You can sleep now, baby.  I'm home.  I love you."  He gently whispers in your ear, lightly kissing your cheek then laying his head on the pillow next to you to fall into a dream-filled sleep of your boy being home.

[melodious-madrigals]

big spoon, little spoon 

Prompt fill for @wondertrevnet‘s Lockout Bingo. 

Fandom: Wonder Woman  Pairing: Diana/Steve Prompt: Fluff  Word Count: 3351 Rating: T? (Some really obliquely referenced sexism, I guess.) Summary:  5 times Diana and Steve were disgustingly cute and very happy (+0 times that they weren't because this is fluff). Literally just fluff, Steve & Diana loving each other a lot. Idk what else to tell you. This is part ii of lost love (sweeter when it’s finally found), and you can read the first chapter here. 

Find this fic below the cut or on AO3. 

***

Notes: Takes place a year or two after Hades deposits Steve in Diana's living room. I'd planned a vaguely angstier fic for my next release, but then I had such a shitty 72 hours that I did not want anyone to feel anything but fluffy, so I rearranged the line-up. please enjoy 3k words of wondertrev being happy and loving each other very much.

***

i.

Even in the modern age, Diana remains partial to keeping track of things the old fashioned way. She has a Google calendar like every professional, of course, but all her meetings are also written neatly in a little diary she keeps; her personal life and JL extracurriculars are also neatly coded and transcribed in their own colors in the planner. She writes grocery lists and to-do lists on spare bits of paper, and takes meeting notes in a leatherbound notebook, unless specifically required to be working on an electronic document. She finds there's something satisfying about seeing the ink in front of her.

Yesterday, for example, she jotted a quick to-do list on a sheet of notepaper, and then tacked it to the fridge, so she'd remember to do items three (water succulents on the kitchen and bathroom window sills) and five (check cream level after Steve finishes his coffee) before she leaves in the morning.

She glances over the other eleven items, mentally ticking off what can be completed today while she's running errands on her way to work, and her eyes land on the last line.

There, scrawled in curling letters under her own tight font, is an addition that certainly wasn't there last night: 14. Kiss your husband.

She smiles. That one she'll have no problem checking off.

Steve's out on the terrace, still sipping his coffee, halfway through a crossword puzzle. She swoops in without warning, dropping a quick kiss to his lips, and then another to the top of his head, before whipping out her list and checking off number fourteen.

"Wait, come back," says Steve, setting down the paper.

"I don't know; I'm having a very productive morning and I've already checked it off," Diana teases. "I might have to move on to other things."

"No fair," he pouts.

"The post office is open already," she continues blithely, brandishing the to-do list. "I should probably go there directly."

In a flash, Steve has leaned forward and snatched the list right out of her hands.

"Steve!" she cries, and lunges for it, but by the time their little scuffle is over and it's back in her hands, 15. Let your husband kiss you is scrawled messily along the bottom.

"Well," she says, smirking despite herself, "if the list says so, I can't argue."

"I'm glad you've seen sense," says Steve, leaning in with a gleam in his eye.

She doesn't manage to tick anything else off before work—ends up rushing not to be late, in fact—but she's always felt it's important to be thorough when completing tasks.

***

ii.

It's rainy and gross, the weather just cold enough that it's unpleasant, but not so cold that the rain has turned into snow or sleet. Unfortunately, it's a Thursday.

When Diana's alarm goes off, she groans, and sticks her head under a pillow, and then pulls the duvet over them both.

"Play hooky with me," Steve says sleepily from next to her.  

"I cannot just skip work."

"And how many sick days do you have accrued?" asks Steve, who knows perfectly well that the number is high, because Diana doesn't get sick the way mortals do.

Diana mumbles something from under the pillow.

"What was that?"

"...a lot," she says, grudgingly. "But that would be lying; I'm not sick."

"Mental health days are a thing now," reasons Steve. "And how many projects are due today?"

"You know perfectly well there's nothing big until next Wednesday."

Steve burrows under the duvet, so that they're face to face and hidden from the outside world.

"Are we going to do anything productive?"

"Not a damn thing."

"Yes, I suppose that does sound nice."

"Excellent! I lie for a living. I'll telephone both our jobs."

Steve gets up, and Diana rolls into the warm spot he left behind. She can hear the soft murmur of his voice though the wall, and five minutes later he's slipping back into bed, a self-satisfied smile on his face.

"All set."

She snuggles into him, and they fall back to sleep to the patter of the rain.

*

When Diana wakes up the second time, it's raining harder still, but there's the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Steve's sitting up, still in pajamas, reading.

She must've been more tired than she thought, because it's rare that Steve wakes up first.

Diana blinks back the sleep in her eyes and takes a moment to appreciate the picture Steve paints, with his tousled hair and reading glasses. He looks soft and sleepy and perfect, and suddenly she's extremely glad he convinced her to take the day off.  

Steve glances over at her, and looks mildly surprised to find she's awake.

He bookmarks his page with care, and then leans over and grabs a steaming mug that was outside her line of vision, offering it to her.

"I did not even hear you get up to make coffee."

"You clearly needed the sleep," Steve says.

"Maybe." Diana sighs, "I suppose I should not lay in bed all day."

"Then I've got just the thing."  He offers her a hand, and she lets him lead her out of the bedroom.

In their living room, instead of the normal furniture configuration, there's a glowing mass of sheets. It seems that Steve has taken it upon himself to make a blanket fort, and has decorated it with a string of lights he must have found at the back of the closet. She really can't believe she slept through this.

"You have been looking at Pinterest again, haven't you?"

"No comment."

"It's lovely."

"There's nothing inside, yet. I thought we could do that bit together."

It's perfect, so she says so.

They pull some cushions off the couch and drag their duvet in too, and all of a sudden, the blanket fort is complete and they have a wonderful little rainy-day nest.

"Breakfast in blanket fort?"

She bites her lip and nods. "But in a minute," she adds, catching his hand in hers before he can move away, and for a moment, they lay on their backs, enjoying the flickering lights.

***

iii.

Diana walks into a massacre.

"What happened here?" Deep red stains cover half the visible surfaces.

Steve looks up, guiltily.

"I spilled cold water on one of the hot jars, and it exploded."

"So just to confirm, none of it is your blood?"

"It's one hundred percent cherry preserves."

Diana breathes a sigh of relief. "That is far easier to fix," she says, slipping her arms around his waist from the back and swooping in to kiss his cheek.

Steve spins in her arms to face her. "It was a rookie mistake. With the amount of jam I've made in my lives, it should never have happened."

Diana sweeps a bit of the exploded cherry preserve off of his cheek with her thumb, and then ducks out of his hold to taste it.

"It is excellent."

Steve grins affably, and rinses both his hands and the rag he's holding. "Good, there are a dozen more jars of it cooling in the dining room."

"Only a dozen?" asks Diana in genuine surprise, because Steve has been known to go a little overboard when it comes to making jams.

"Plus a dozen each of raspberry and blueberry preserves."

"Ahh," she says, nodding. That makes a great deal more sense.

"I already cleaned up the glass, and was going to wipe everything down and start on the peaches. Care to join me?"

Diana knows next to nothing about canning and preserving and jellying, but she missed it last year when the Justice League called her out of town unexpectedly. There's no way she's missing it again this year.

"Tell me where to start," she says, smiling.

"With clothes you don't mind getting dirty, for one. As I've clearly demonstrated," Steve jokes, gesturing at his aproned (and sticky) body.  

Diana glances down at her several-hundred euro suit, and then makes for the bedroom. "I'll only be a moment."

"I've got nothing but time!" Steve calls after her, jovially.

When she comes back out—now dressed in an ancient t-shirt that she's stolen back from Steve (after he stole it from her last year) and jeans so soft they're practically threadbare—she pauses in the doorframe, watching Steve. He's mostly mopped up the cherry preserves, and he's humming as he towels up the bit that somehow managed to get on the backsplash.

He's probably been at this for hours, and despite the mishap, he's still in an excellent mood. It makes her smile softly.

He catches her eye just as he hits the chorus of the soft '80s song he's singing, and he pulls her behind the island and spins her around. She laughs and plays along, and they rock back and forth a few times, Diana joining him on the last chorus as he hands her an apron.

"If you want to start pitting the peaches, I'll finish cleaning the pot."

They chat about their days as they work (Diana gets a play-by-play of the events leading up to the exploding jar, and Steve gets a run-down on the passive-aggressive email war she's having with the British Museum), and eventually Steve comes over to help her pit and cut the fruit.

Once everything has been dumped into the large copper jam pot, they turn up the radio and dance around the kitchen to old music, stirring intermittently until the peach compote has simmered down and thickened enough that it's time to jar and let it set.

"That was fun," Diana says, as they finish the washing up. Their dining room table has been completely overtaken by jams and preserves cooling in quaint-looking Mason jars, but it's worth it.

"I'm hoping to make elderberry jam still this year, and apple jelly in the late autumn, if you'd like to join me," Steve says, a dish-towel flung over his shoulder. (It's very cute.)

"It's a date," Diana declares, and she sees his eyes flick to her lips.

A second later, their lips meet, slow and languid, and Diana sighs into the kiss. Steve's lips taste vaguely sweet, a little like the peach jam they'd swiped samples of while they worked, and hers probably do too.

If Steve's lucky, he might be able to steal the t-shirt back yet this evening.

***

iv.

There's tittering outside her office, which—if Diana had been paying attention—would've tipped her off twenty minutes ago to the fact that Steve is here. Her interns are a bit of a gossipy bunch this year, and they've all taken a shine to Steve. (Apparently he's the most interesting thing to happen to the office, and the presence of the seemingly straight-laced Mme. Prince's charming significant other is always cause for news in a way little else is.)

As it happens, she's in the middle of updating the care manuals for several artifacts that are about to be going on loan, and misses all the signs until there's a distinctive tap on her door, and Steve lets himself in.

She's always pleased to see him, and doubly so since he's been away for the past ten days on a mission with ARGUS.

"Hello, my love," she says, and leans forward over the desk to give him a quick kiss, before returning to her paper.

A moment later, she looks up, doing a spectacular double take. "You are home early!" exclaims Diana, moving out from behind her desk to give him a proper hug and another kiss.

Steve laughs, and kisses her a third time, on the nose.

"We were in and out without any loose ends to take care of. It went as smoothly as could be expected."

"I'm glad you're home."

"Me too. Care to celebrate with a quick dinner?"

Diana sighs. "I would love to, but these need to be sent out early tomorrow morning."

"Oh, come on. You need to eat at some point. Besides," says Steve. "I've still got the time dilator we found on mission if you need to get the reports done later."

"Steve," she scolds, although there's very little heat to it. "You are not considering used banned tech just for a little extra time with me tonight."

"To have dinner with you at a reasonable hour? I absolutely am." He looks at her imploringly. "We'll just slip out to the little Thai place you love and be back in an hour or two."

Diana has known she was going to give in from the moment he suggested it, but she still scrunches her face a little. "Oh, all right." Steve's victorious smile is actually adorable, and they pass a lovely couple of hours catching up on the last few days.

They get back to her office around 21h00, and instead of leaving, Steve pulls out his laptop.

"You don't have to," Diana protests. "It's late."

Steve just shrugs. "I need to work on my mission report anyways."

Diana acquiesces, simply because she's not-so-secretly pleased to have the company.

(They only have to use the time dilator once.)

Later, after Diana has everything squared away, they decide to walk home, despite the distance and the hour.

They amble along the Seine, arm in arm. The soft light of Paris never gets old, especially the way the hazy reflections ripple in the river. For all the madness of the afternoon, it's been a good day. Diana leans her head on Steve's shoulder, and they stroll on.

***

v.

Midway through her diatribe, Diana flops down in front of him, and leans against his legs, seeking comfort in her frustration. Steve's hands immediately find her hair, and he gently starts rubbing circles into her scalp as she continues the impassioned rant that began a while ago in the kitchen, "—and it is infuriating, because it is not my department, you understand? The only recourse is to file an official complaint, but that could take ages and ages and until then, they are using an outdated method that could potentially cause lasting damage to the artifacts!"

Steve hums sympathetically when Diana pauses to take a sip (well, a swig) of wine, and he splits a bit of her hair to start braiding as she adds, "These are pieces of cultural history, Steve. They should be treated with the utmost respect so that they last for generations to come to tell our history, and instead Michel is going to keep using a compound that will eventually compromise the integrity of the color!"

Steve knows there's a lot of complicated inter-departmental politics and squabbles that mean there's no good way to address the problem.

"—and the way he treats Sophie!" Diana huffs, a clear indication that they're back to Michel—a frequent source of frustration—but on a personal note this time.

"Hair tie," interjects Steve, and without missing a beat, she flicks one off her wrist and hands it to him so he can finish off the braid neatly.  

"It is disgusting, and she does not wish to file a complaint, which I understand is her choice, but it still makes me cringe. I wish he would try it on me, because I would break his—"

Diana's phone pings, cutting her off, and she sags against Steve.  

"You know you can keep going," Steve says, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice, because the content of the rant isn't funny, but the situation is. Several weeks ago, they'd decided to try cutting back on work talk in an effort to keep a healthier work-/home-life balance, and almost invariably, one of them blows through the artificially-imposed time limit. (For reference, Diana holds more blow-throughs, but it was him yesterday, and the day before.) "You don't actually have to stop just because the timer went off."

"It was my idea," Diana says ruefully, running her hand down the tight French braid, subconsciously checking it, "and I still maintain it is a good plan, I am just—"

"Very passionate about things you perceive to be injustices, big or small, yeah, I know," Steve grins. This isn't anything new.

Diana twists around to face him, and rolls her eyes at his expression. "You love me for it."

"Yeah, I do," says Steve, still smiling.

Diana sighs. "The conversation will still be here tomorrow, and I will probably still be annoyed. There is little use in continuing now."

"Unless you want to rant," Steve points out. "That's valid."

"I do, but it will not actually make me feel better. It is not cathartic if it just makes me angrier," says Diana. "Best to step away."

"Want me to set up a bath?"

"No, just come cuddle with me in bed."

"I'll never say no to that."

"Yes, but you have to be the big spoon this time," Diana says.

"I still won't say no, even if little spoon is by far the superior of the two."

Her ensuing laugh rings through the apartment, and her hand skims along the plait again.

"Almost as good as Selene's," she muses, and Steve takes it as the compliment that it is: Selene is an Amazon friend known for the intricacy and skill of her braiding techniques.

*

"Okay, one good thing about today?" prompts Steve, once they're curled up in bed. They've begun making it a habit to practice gratefulness each evening before bed. Steve read about it in a mindfulness book, and when he'd mentioned it offhandedly, Diana had immediately been on board. "Other than the fact that it's over," he adds, seeing the look on Diana's face.

"You," says Diana, reflexively.

"You say that every night," laughs Steve.

"It does not stop being true."  

"I think it's supposed to be something different, each time. To accumulate things you're grateful for."

Diana grumbles, but does pause to come up with something else. "The magnolia trees I pass on my walk to work," she says, finally. "They are in bloom right now, and they brighten my day."

If Steve could answer you, or even say the little smile on Diana's face as she speaks, without sounding like a hypocrite, he would. "I found a little patisserie up by the Bastille that has these lovely little raspberry pastries."

"Mmmm," says Diana, smiling. "You do love raspberries." Then, after a pause, in a softer voice: "The fact that I get to take little things for granted, now, and pretend I do not have to specify the little things for which I am grateful. I know I am not supposed to say you, but I am grateful that you are holding me now."

They talk drowsily for a bit, but soon succumb to sleep.

*

Here's the thing.

It's Steve's personal policy to never lie to Diana. That's, like, a pretty basic relationship foundation thing, and it's not something he's ever had trouble with.

But there's one white lie that he doesn't suspect he'll ever come clean about: despite what he tells Diana, he doesn't actually think being little spoon is better than being big spoon.

He likes to hold her, likes getting to nose at her neck and loop his arm around her waist. (Big spoon is also less prone to overheating, which does happen sometimes.)

But Steve also knows that Diana sleeps better as big spoon, that being able to physically hold on to him in her sleep is comforting, a balm after years of night terrors and bad dreams and waking up to empty sheets. It's a small price to pay, in the end, knowing that him being the little spoon makes her happy.

It's a secret he'll take with him to the grave.

*

Steve wakes up in the dead of night, the shadows still long over the bed, the ambient light from Paris's streetlamps a soft glow along the bottom of the windows. It's the foggy sort of waking that means it'll be easy to slip back under, a mere footnote in the night. Just before he drifts off again, he notices that he's now the little spoon. He sighs contentedly, smiles, and falls back asleep.

[beclynn-herondale]

Clace Week day 6 - Pregnancy/Birth

( Clary and Jace belong to Cassandra clare and the world) ( pictures from pinterest)

Welcome to our Crazy Family!

Pregnancy #1

When Clary found out she was pregnant she started crying because her and Jace had been trying to start their family and the best part is they were getting married in a month so they had two big things coming, she felt so overwhelmed with happiness and after so many bad things good ones started happening, she had to calm herself down so she could even speak and then she went to find Jace.

She found him in the music room playing the piano, Jace she said and he looked up, Clary are you okay? You look like you've been crying? He said, I am great, but you need to come here now!!! She said excitedly and he gave her a weird look but followed her to their bedroom and he said what do you have planned Clare in a teasing Voice, bet you have no idea what it is Jace.

She had taken a pregnancy test that morning and it came back positive, She led him into the bathroom in their room and showed and he looked happy, unbelieving and excited, Is this for real Clare?, Yes Yes Yes she said and he started tearing up and so did she again and he took her in his arms, OH WAIT I SHOULD BE CAREFUL! right?, Jace it's fine you can hug me she said through a teary smile, oh okay said Jace and took her back into his arms and said this is really happening by the angel we're gonna have a baby!, Yes we are said Clary, she got on her tip toes and kissed her soon to be husband.

***

After being in labor for almost 24 hours with their twins here they were beautiful, adorable , amazing little girls who they already loved so much and now even more her and Jace both cried when they saw them for the first time Clary didn't care about the pain because she had her baby girls, it had been hard but worth it, Jace was there right beside her the whole time supporting her and encouraging her, and and kissed her head right before Charlotte was born, Last push babe he said, giving birth to twins wasn't easy, Ella was born first and then came Charlie 7 minutes later, she couldn't Express how much she loves these girls already her and Jace were sitting on a bed in the infirmary, Catarina had delivered their baby girls and healed Clary afterwards, and now her and Jace were exhausted her more so, she had one of them in her arms and Jace had the other, Charlotte Maryse Herondale and Ella Adele Herondale welcome little ones mama and papa love you very much.

( so this next part is connected to my fic I am writing so yeah things might be a little off, and a little sad for reasons I will forewarn you)

Pregnancy #2/3 technically

It wasn't the second time Clary had found out she was pregnant actually the third, she miscarried her second pregnancy due to events in the last war but more then that she lost her little girl, her and Jace had decided to start trying again, some thought it was to soon but Charlie was heartbroken and not Charlie she has a smile that's contagious and makes everyone want to smile and she's like sunshine and it hurts Clary every time she sees her like that, she lost her twin and doesn't know how to be without her, she wakes up in the middle of the night every night crying and screaming for Ella and Her and Jace have to go in and calm her and say that Ella isn't here anymore but at peace, hell Clary didn't even know if she was, all she wanted was her little girl back but the Angel apparently wants her and Jace and their family to suffer, after Ella died she screamed at the sky a lot, swearing and yelling at the Angel asking why her little girl? Why her? But why her unborn child as well?. And now she was sitting in their bathroom with a pregnancy test in her hands wondering if she would actually be pregnant, she looked at it and it was positive and she broke down crying omg she said I really am, for some it takes a while after having a miscarriage and getting pregnant again they are giving it time but for her and Jace and others trying again a couple months later was healing and after a month she got pregnant again, some thought it was wrong but they know Ella would want them to keep going and make charlie happy.

-

Clary waited for Jace to get home and after she put Charlie to bed to tell him and she had him sit on the bed, he gave her a look of worry, Clare he said what is thi- shush she said listen to me love, these last five months have been some of the hardest and have been hard and for some things like this might tear them apart but not us we stay together always and are always here and never give up on each other, we know that we need each other and we need to be a team and that the answer is love and I love you more and more every day, and I have some news that may be a turning point for us. What? He said, she took the pregnancy test out of her pocket and placed it in his hands with tears in her eyes, and he broke down and put his arms around her waist and cried on her shoulder and she his and they stayed like that for a while just here in this moment, and they went to bed and fell asleep in each other's arms while looking at each other and Jace was scared to let the moment go and said I won't let it happen again Clare I won't he said in his calm but stern and hard voice like Tessa Gray his Relative and an honestly amazing woman who if it weren't for Clary didn't know if she would be here today, I won't let anything happen to our kids again. Jace said, you can't control that love she said believe me I wish I- we could but we can't all we can do is watch over them and try our damn best to keep this from ever happening again.

Clary had and easier time with Stephen, she was in labor after her water broke for about 12 hours which was a lot less and extremely fast she thought but he was here and she was happy, her and Jace were crying tears of joy but also grief knowing how much Ella would have loved him and for all the pain and when Charlie came in she lit up and said Mommy! Is that him? Yes sunshine she said and Jace picked her up to show her and she cried, I have a baby brother she said Yay!, he's so cute mommy and papa and he has blonde hair like me and mommy's green eyes!, yes sunshine he does said Clary, he's like me mommy yay! Her sunshine was lighting up the room like she would always do and her and Jace were smile.

Pregnancy #3/4

Charlie and James got along really well and loved each so much and had a bond, Clary and Jace recently found out they were pregnant again and it was filled with tears and her surprising Jace this time, she played a guessing game with him and by the end he was in tears and hugging her and she was crying to. They told the kids after and they got super excited with Charlie saying another baby sibling! Yay! Yay! Do you think it will be a girl or boy? asked Charlie, I don't know Sunshine we'll have to wait and see. Said Clary, baby said Stephy they called him that as a nickname some said it's kinda girly but they didn't care what they thought nor did it matter if he likes it it's perfectly alright.

Hey Jace said to their kids do you two want to go to the music room? and let mommy rest, Yes! They said, will you and papa sing us a lullaby tonight again mommy? Asked Charlie, Yes of course Sunshine. Said Clary with her sweet motherly smile.

When they told the rest of their family and friends, they were all overjoyed that Clary and Jace were having another baby but also that they were healing, there would always be a deep scar but they knew they had to keep going. Izzy was so excited and said Yet again I am an Aunt!, she loved being an aunt and now a mom to 3 year old Sophie and 2 year old George and she said me and Simon actually have something to announce we are actually pregnant again to, Clary and Jace got so happy for them seriously!? Said Clary, Yes! Said Izzy seriously, congrats said Jace and he went and hugged Izzy and Simon and after Clary did. Our kids are gonna be best friends Fray said simon. They already are Si she said. True! Said Simon.

Clary went into labor earlier with Tessa, it worried her and Jace but Cararina assured them it would be fine and it was just a little early, Catarina has delivered everyone of their kids and it kinda became a thing and Clary honestly didn't want anyone else to deliver her babies, and Catarina loved it not that she would say, And she's here said Catarina after Clary pushed one last time and their baby girl was here and Clary was resting and her and Jace were admiring their little baby she was their smallest yet even the twins weren't this small but Catarina said she'll be fine, Tessa Jocelyn Herondale, Jace said you are beautiful little one and we will love forever. And Clary looked at him and kissed his cheek and smiled.

After that Izzy brought the kids in and they started jumping up and down saying she's here! She's here!, shush said Jace softly she's sleeping, oh said Charlie can we see here?, come here said Jace and picked them up to show them Izzy was looking at them softly, you're next Iz said Clary, I know I can't wait I want her to be here said Izzy. She has Jace's hair and eyes said Izzy.

Pregnancy #5

When Tessa was about 2 Clary found out she was pregnant again, she was waiting nervously and impatiently for several minutes and it showed two very visible lines and she knew she was and she was excited she won't lie, everyone probably thinks they have had enough children but Her and Jace didn't feel done or complete as a family yet. And this time she would have Jace found out in a great way, she was going to make him go on a scavenger hunt to find out.

**

When Jace came into his and Clary's bedroom she said good you're here I have something for you, what is it? Said Jace, there's a note on the table, he found and opened it it said ( go to the place where we had one of our first important moments in the institute) I know what your talking about said Jace what! Said Clary how? Well we had one of the first important moments in the green house when we first kissed and it was like nothing I had ever experienced before and it lit something In me that would change me. She smiled at that and he started heading towards, you coming Clare he said, yeah! She said.

When they go to the green house he found another note it said (go to the place where something happened that would have us bond forever) the roof he said, geez she said maybe you know me better then I thought said Clary, I do know you pretty well in all ways especially physically he said Jace! Yelled Clary, what no ones around, speaking of which where are the kids? As they were heading to the roof. They're with Alec and Magnus, Izzy and Simon are there as well to, and with their cousins and playing together like they always do. Okay why are we here doing this then? It's a surprise that's why said Clary, Alright better get back to it then said Jace, he got to the roof and found the other note, it said ( now your final stop, yes scavenger hunts are supposed to be long but I would get to impatient if I made it long. Go to the place where you enjoy to do something you love and the kids love as well) hmm that's a hard one but I have an idea said Jace I think I'll go to the music room first. Okay said Clary with a playful smile, I think that's the right choice seeing that smile on your face says so.

When he got to the music room and found the last note that said ( me and you have been through a lot together and our journey keeps going and I can't wait to keep going on it together with our kids and I hope it's okay to add more ) Are you pregnant? Asked Jace, yes said Clary and he walked over to her and hugged her again geez people are gonna comment he said, yeah well let them I don't care said Clary, me neither, we are growing out family and I am the happiest I could be. Clare I love you and I can't thank you enough for all you have done for me and still do every day. Said Jace, I love you to and you do and have done the same for me and she kissed his cheek. Now she said I think we should go to magnus and Alec's to get the kids, Yes I think we should said Jace.

Clary had a long labor again with twins but ot went perfectly fine and by the end she had her beautiful baby boy and girl, as with the other kids Catarina had delivered them, so how many more should I expect asked Catarina with a playful smile, Depends said Jace are you challenging us?, not exactly but you could make it to the shadowhunters with the most kids although I would laugh at them because you'd be once again changing things she said, either way you're children are beautiful and you two are amazing parents even I have to say that, they had come to know Catarina over the years and she really is an amazing woman thought Clary, thanks! Catarina for delivering all of them and if we do have more we would like you to be the one to do it said Jace and Clary nodded, I would like that said Catarina.

Charlie, Stephy and Tessa came into the room with Alec who insisted he should get to do it once and they ran to her and Jace and jumped into his arms and Alec walked over and helped by lifting Charlie up saying heron number 5 and 6 are here there's more of you now and soon you will be an army heron number 1 he Said to Charlie, really? said Charlie, yes my little Heron number 1 said Alec. Did you decide in names? asked Alec I know you two wanted it to be perfect and hadn't decided yet, yes! Actually we did said Clary, I would like you to meet Will Alexander Herondale and Jamie Cecily Herondale said Jace, Alexander? said Alec, yes after you said Clary and Alec was fighting back tears, thank you he said that means a lot said Alec and he said I love you both but damn you for making me so emotional, Clary and Jace laughed, and they and their kids admired the little new additions to their family. Her and Jace were very much in love and are happy. It's not all been easy but they have each and these little Joy's in their lives and the rest of their family and friends and they will be okay thought Clary. And she looked at her newborns with Black hair, one with her green eyes and the other a orange gold.

[ hopefully you like this ]

( tags @sarcasticmalecfan @tsc-clave @thomaslightwoodx @rednailpolishqueen @theheavenlybooks @daisyherxndale @khaleesiofalicante @sorta-a-perfectionist @annlightwood )

I will post the last one tomorrow if I can.

[ my writing and edits ]

[inlovewithfictionals]

Villain Among the Family of Heroes

A/N: Hi, hello! So I was scrolling through pinterest and I found a writing prompt by @writing-prompt-s but I didn’t get to save it. But basically the prompt was something like “You have a family full of heroes. The three of your elder brothers are known as Powerhouses. But you rarely see them because they’re always out there saving the city. One day you decided to be a villain in order to see your brothers. And now family diners are the most amusing time.” My writings might not go as the prompt for hundred percent, I’m so sorry about that… Also, two things; English is not really my first language so sorry if there’s any grammar mistakes. And this is my first attempt at writing, it’s bound to be bad. But I would like to know your opinions so I can improve. Anyways this is a long freakin’ a/n, and I hope you enjoy!

Word count: 2649 (Damn that’s a lot)

   I sighed, today has been a long day. And a pretty fun one, to be honest. I get to properly fight with my brothers as a villain and without them going easy on me. As a matter of fact, my brothers don’t know about me being the villain.

   Okay, I might’ve lied to my family about where am I today.

   You see, my family is a group of heroes. Well- mostly my dad and my brothers.

   My mum, Eleanora Lascaris, doesn’t have any superpowers, she’s a normal human. She’s a doctor in town, and you’ve probably guessed it, she’s the one patching my dad and my brothers after missions. And I think that could be considered as superpowers because according to mum, my brothers are a handful when she patched them up. Patience is her superpowers.

   However my dad, Matteo Lascaris, was born heliokinesis; the ability to manipulate solar energy. He was the hero in town called Ilios. He saved the people here numerous of times from different villains. Some villains still causing trouble ‘till this day, and some of them we never heard from again.

   But now that my dad puts more of his time on his non-superhero work, someone has to protect the city when he can’t. That’s when my elder brothers take the role.

   Alastair, Raiden, and Dylan Lascaris. Also known as Phyyrhos, Fulgur, and Hydro. The Powerhouses.

   Raiden and Dylan are identical twins, both having the same light brown hair, same button nose, same height, and same amount of annoyingness. The only thing that makes a difference is that Raiden has amber coloured eyes, Dylan has sea blue eyes. And they have different powers. Raiden has electrokinesis; the ability to manipulate electricity and lightning. Dylan has hydrokinesis; the ability to manipulate water. And let me tell you, these two can be childish with their powers.

   Then there’s Alastair. He’s the eldest child and the most responsible one. He has short dark brown hair, chestnut brown eyes, and also a button nose. His power? Pyrokinesis; the ability to manipulate fire. Even though I said that he’s the most responsible one, that doesn’t mean he didn’t try to burn a bunch cherry to see if it will explode or not. And in case you’re wondering, no it didn’t.

   These three are the best heroes and highly respected ones as well, like our dad. They cared and saved the city like our dad, and maybe more. The whole citizens love them. They have every reason to.

    And then there’s me, Thea Lascaris. I’m the youngest child and the most underestimated one. I do have my own power, photokinesis; the ability to generate and manipulate light. And I usually train with my brothers, but they and my dad never allowed me to be a hero like them. They said it was “too dangerous” or “I need more training. I’m still too weak”. I know that they just wanted to protect me, but sometimes I’m just tired of being underestimated. My brothers know that I don’t like to be underestimated. And often talked to me about it. They always remind me, “one day, sis.” And in the end I just let it go. At least I have my brothers with me, right? Wrong.

   Usually, they would take a break from all of the Powerhouses stuff and spend time with me. Like training, watching a movie, talk about peoples we hate at school, or playing monopoly and not finishing it because one of us flipped the board. The point is that they always make time for us to spend as siblings. As a family. Up until a couple of months ago.

   There’s crime everywhere, every day. The Powerhouses, along with Ilios has been busy taking care of it. Ever since then, I rarely saw them anymore. Let alone, spending time with them. I would lie if I said that I didn’t miss them. I tried to make them take a break but they never did. Not even for dinner! They’re either outside as heroes, or inside sleeping, researching about the bad guys, or doing their homework.

   Days passed until I realise that the only way to see my brothers again is by becoming a villain. That way, not only can I see my brothers, I can use my powers. I can prove them that I’m not weak. I can prove them that I’m capable of doing something more.

   After thinking about it, discussing it with Alice and getting the “this-is-stupid-but-I’ll-support-you” look from her…

   “Are you really going to do that? What if you get caught?”

   “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure I didn’t leave a clue to who I am. As long as you don’t tell anyone.”

   She thought about it for a moment before giving me the look.  “Fine,” she breathed out “On one condition,” I made a gesture for her to continue,

   “Alastair’s phone number,” she said with a cheeky smile, crossing one arm and made a gesture to give her the number with the other one.

   “When will you stop hitting on my brother?”

   “When he stop being so hittable.”

   …I finally came out as the new villain, Thanafos.

   Surprisingly, I was pretty good at being the bad guy- err- I guess bad girl. I get to play around with my powers, testing what it can and can’t do, kicking my brothers’ butts, and going home like nothing happened. Though, I always make sure that I didn’t go too far. I don’t kill anyone. I only harm them and then leave them be. And I don’t harm my brothers. Well, not too brutal. Just enough so they don’t catch me.

   Today was no different. I told my family that I was going to Alice’s house for a group project. That’s actually wasn’t completely a lie, I did a group project before I robbed a bank and getting away with it, with a fight of course. And I might have been a bit too harsh on the Powerhouses. It wasn’t my fault, I was trying to get away before the found out or getting the clue that it was me.

    After all that mumbo jumbo, I teleported to a safer place, took half of the money for me and left half of it in front of an orphanage before I did another light teleportation back to Alice’s house before I went home. You might be wondering, aren’t you supposed to be a bad guy? Why are you dropping the money in front of an orphanage? Well, keep in mind that not all bad guys are heartless.

. . . .

  “Mum, I’m home!” I said rather loudly, stepping into the house

  “Thea? Where have you been? You said you’ll be home by five. I tried calling but you didn’t answer.” my mum said rushing to me, concern was evident on her voice.

  “Sorry, mum. It took a while to get our project perfectly, and I put my phone on silent mode. You know, so I get full focus.”

  She sighed, “I thought something happened to you. Crime is everywhere these days and I’m just worried-“

  “Mum, calm down. I’m fine. Safe and sound. Besides, I could protect myself. No need to worry.” I cut her off, with a reassuring smile.

  “Okay, then. Take a quick shower and come help me with dinner. I forced your dad and your brothers to take a break just this night.”

   I smiled, nodding as I ran upstairs to my room, quickly locking it as soon as I got there. I dropped my bag on my bed, took my villain suit out and hide it in my closet, among my other clothes. Grabbing my casual outfit, I went to the bathroom and take a shower.

   I have a feeling that I’ll find tonight’s dinner quiet amusing.

. . . .

   As soon as I’m done setting the table, I heard my brothers arguing about something in the hallways,

   “..Stop touching my shoulder, Raiden! It hurts!”

   “You think that hurts? Thanafos kicked my face and threw me to a wall. And they burned my wrist while doing so. Now that hurts, Dylan.”

   “You know that you could just electrocute that guy, right? They’ll pass out and we can know more about this person.”

   “I told you, Al, it’s like this person knows my moves. Our moves and successfully dodge them! This guy has only bothered the city 4 times and they fight us like they’ve been doing that for years!”

   When they entered the dining room, I couldn’t help my shocked face. And they said that I need more training, I thought.

   What I saw was Dylan with his shoulders bandaged, bruises here and there, nothing too brutal but it must’ve felt painful from his statement before. Alastair has a light bruise on his right arm, his face was littered with scars and small cuts, and there’s a bruise just above his collar bone that might looked like a hickey. And I think that will be his reason if someone had asked him.

   And then there’s Raiden. Dear brother, I am so sorry.

   He’s holding an ice pack to his left cheekbone, his back is kind of hunched, looks like he is limping a little, not to mention those first degree burns. He got one burn on each wrist, two on his right forearm, and one on his left palm. All burn are already treated. There’s a lot of visible scars on him. And his hands seems like it’s sparking with electricity, which only happens when he’s pissed or nervous.

   He’s going to kill me if he finds out it’s me.

   “Maybe Thanafos is a mind reader. That’s why they know our next moves.” Dylan suggested.

   “Maybe. Or maybe they’ve already memorized our moves from past villains. They take notes.” Alastair said.

   “Alright, you guys. Sit down and eat your dinner. Where’s your dad?” mum asked, while cleaning the counter.

   “He’s still downstairs.” All three of them replied, sitting on the chairs.

    Mum sighed and went out the kitchen to the basement, calling for dad. Not before telling us, “You guys, eat your dinner. Don’t wait up.”

     I sat on my chair, still holding back a smirk as I began to eat. All four of us ate in silence until I pretend that I don’t know anything and asked, “What. The Hell. Happened. To you three?”

    “Got beaten up,” Raiden grumbled.

    “Burned,” Dylan continued.

    “And pretty much failed to stop Thanafos. Again.” Alastair finished.

     I choked on my water as I laughed. My brothers’ eyes immediately shot up to me. “You? The Powerhouses? Got beaten up by a criminal? And failed to stop them?” I asked, my laugh died slightly. “I never thought I’d see the day!”

    Dylan frowned slightly, “What do you mean? We don’t always successfully stop a criminal and we always came back home looking like this. Well, except for Raiden. Today has been brutal to him.” Raiden groaned upon hearing Dylan’s statement.

    “What I meant by that is that Thanafos is a new bad guy here. Other bad guys here are often being not so lucky on their first couple of heist. This person has annoyed the city for only four times in two months. That’s nothing compared to the other villains here and all three of you failed to use your powers against them. That’s rare, bro.” I pointed my carrot to three of them before taking a bite.

    “Well, I don’t think this person is a newbie. Clearly they’re trained. And they might’ve memorized and understanding our moves and powers,” Alastair stops to swallow his food, “and taking notes because they can easily dodge our powers.”

    “And this person clearly has a power. I’m assuming it’s also pyrokinesis, like Alastair’s. That could explain the burns.” Dad said as he walked to sit on his chair with mom trailing behind him before sitting down on hers. “But they could also have heliokinesis like mine.” He continued. They all nodded slightly.

    Raiden gulped down his drink before commenting, “I have to admit though, Thanafos puts up a good fighting skills for a newbie.”

    I’m flattered, Rai.

   “Yeah, I can see that from the many scars they left on you.” I noted, smirking.

   Dylan and Alastair snickered while Raiden groaned. Again. “Will you guys stop commenting on how bad I look right now? I’ve had enough scars on my body, I don’t need more on my heart!” He pouted, causing us to laugh.

   “I’m still wondering how Thanafos managed to know our moves and dodge them easily. As well as disappearing after each fight. They couldn’t have more than one power.” Alastair stated. “Is it possible to have burning, teleporting or invisibility, and mind reading at the same time?” He asked.

   “No way. That’s overpowered!” Raiden exclaimed.

   “Unless they have a technology to add more abilities like that, the chances are slim. However, I will try to find out more about it.” Dad explained. “For now, let’s just enjoy family time like this.”

   “Yeah, it’s been a long time.” Alastair said.

   “Hey… sorry we haven’t been able to spend time with you, sis. More crimes every day that we need to take care of.” Dylan told me quietly. Raiden and Alastair nodded in agreement.

   “No, It- It’s fine. I get that you three as The Powerhouses have to protect the city. But sometimes, I just want to join.”

   “You already know that-“

   “I know, I know. Too dangerous.” I cut him off.

   If they let me join them one day, should I tell them that I’m actually Thanafos? I probably should. I decided to not think about that now.

   Alastair smiled, “It’s a good thing you didn’t come with us. You’ll end up worse than Raiden.”

   “I don’t want to imagine what’s worse than this,” Raiden gestured at his bruises and burns, “but, yeah. Al’s right.” We laughed at his statement.

   “To make it up for you, how about going to cinema tomorrow? You know, sibling time.” Dylan asked me.

    I thought about it for a bit, before agreeing to that. “Promise no Powerhouses stuff?” I asked, not making eye contact.

   The three looked at each other before smiling. Alastair puts his right hand in front of him, looking at Raiden and Dylan. Raiden puts his hand on top of Alastair’s and Dylan does the same on top of Raiden’s. “Promise.” They all said. I grinned, putting my hand on top of theirs and then we cheered.

   “So, we’re cool?” Raiden asked.

   “Yeah. Yeah, we’re cool.”

   “Well I’m not cool. I’m pyrokinetic. I was supposed to be hot.” Alastair argued playfully.

   “Whatever, Phyyrhos.”

   “Shut up, Hydro!”

   We burst out laughing. I looked at mum and dad, they we’re laughing along while shaking their heads.

   Moments like this are the moments I love the most. Just the six of us, having the time of our life’s goofing around. Like a family should. But I know that these moments never lasted. These moments are rare nowadays. That’s why I cherish every second of it.  I would’ve been lying if I said that I didn’t want more times like this.

   Unfortunately, I can’t. I rarely saw my family apart from my mum. That’s why I took my opportunity to be Thanafos, right? To see my family. And to prove that I can do more. But they don’t know.

   They don’t know it’s me.

  Not yet. It’s only a matter of time before they found out.

  Will they be disappointed? Most likely.

  Will they be pissed? Maybe.

  But I have my own reasons to why I am who I am now. And maybe, just maybe…

  …other villains have the same reason. And if only people understands it, if only people would give them a chance… they would’ve been a hero instead of a villain.

   For now, let me enjoy my time with my family while I can.

[angelaiswriting]

The Assistant (2 of ?) | Vladimir Ranskahov x reader

[original picture: pinterest + no new banner today bc i don’t want to risk to spend the rest of the day analyzing these two hands haha]

✏️ Pairings: (eventual) Vladimir Ranskahov x fem!reader | Anatoly Ranskahov x OC (Paulina) | probably other pairings

✏️ Requested by @kellydixon01 : Y/N–hacker, big mouth, even bigger attitude–is the new addition to Fisk’s team. Sent to help the Ranskahovs, she immediately gets on Vladimir’s nerves. But as time passes, they start to take a liking to each other, even if none of them is willing to admit their feelings. Yet.

✏️ A/N: I wanted to post this before lunch, but I got carried away but Vlad’s tattoos HAHA I’m a fucking Master Procrastinator (but it could be useful for the story, who knows. If I find the pics I was referring to last night, I might even research them all bc as of now all we have are dark photos since Daredevil is what it is...)

✏️ Warnings: none that I can think of tbh

✏️ Word-count: 2,823

REQUESTS ARE OPEN IF YOU WANT ME TO WRITE FOR YOU 💛

<< chapter one <<

CHAPTER TWO: UNPLEASANT NEWS

Weirdly enough, the meeting was going to be held in a new location, one that had been kept a secret until an hour before its beginning. Commonly enough, though, the location was another building still in construction and owned by Fisk’s company, for he wanted to be sure to be on safe ground. No police, no complications. He wanted one clean operation so as to not blow up his cover.

It wasn’t going to happen anyway, the Ranskahov brothers reasoned. They cared about their money and their traffics and even though they weren’t exactly that excited to be working with Gao and the Yakuza, they weren’t going to complain. As long as money poured into their pockets, they were fine.

What they weren’t fine with, was a spy.

What had previously been a simple rumor had later turned out to be, in fact, the truth. The girl Wesley was going to bring along was a hacker–hence, in Vladimir and Anatoly’s dictionaries, a fucking spy.

Why did that girl have to be there, none of them had a clue. Was it because of the failed shipment two months ago? It couldn’t be: they had had three other meetings with Fisk’s man and the problem hadn’t been brought up. It hadn’t even been addressed because it hadn’t been their fault.

And yet, the real question was: where the fuck were the Asians? Their absence felt weird, a stinging aftertaste at the back of their throats. They had always been present because they were part of the deal and part of the business. They dealt with drugs and the Russians with weapons and human beings. They were symbionts: they worked together because they benefited from the others’ work.

Unless, of course, this was Fisk’s way of removing them from the chessboard. He acted like its king, he felt as though he was its king: what was going to stop him from killing off the Russian side of the traffic?

Vladimir gritted his teeth, the smoke of the cigarette finding its way out from his flaring nostrils. The fingers that held the cigarette trembled, but not in fear. He wasn’t at ease, he didn’t like to stand and wait in an unknown place, unaware of its emergency exits and hiding corners. Unlike his older brother, much more composed, he felt like a caged animal. He could smell the people on the other side of the bars, even though he could barely see them, and the more he waited, the more that cage shrank in size.

It was almost like being six again when he had been trapped in that damn elevator that never worked like it should have. He had grown up in an old building–old, and dark, and stinky. He saw shadows everywhere, even if he wanted to show a brave façade in front of his brother and father. After all, Vladimir Ranskahov was no pussy. The truth was, though, that he had been terrified by that creepy junkie that lived down the corridor, or by the man that, two doors from his own, yelled at any given moment. And so, he never took the stairs. Hopping from one foot to the other, he always jumped into the elevator, forced its doors closed so as to not let anyone else inside, and punched the button that would bring him up to the sixth floor. It was always an endless ascent: that metal box smelled like cat piss and the neon light above his head flickered and threatened to switch off. He had felt a jerk, that day, and he had bumped his head against one of the four walls but hadn’t immediately realized what had happened. It had taken him a couple of minutes, for it was weird that the doors hadn’t opened yet. And so he had understood and pressed the button with the yellow bell, hoping and praying that someone would come.

It had almost been like being in a movie: the hot guy and the hot girl ended up in the same elevator, which would soon break, and they’d end up kissing and touching. But he was not a hot guy and there was no hot girl and he had felt an invisible fist squeezing the air out of his lungs, leaving him breathless as his mind worked at the speed of light.

It had been the longest four minutes of his life before the doors finally opened and the building’s technician welcomed him onto the corridor.

Even now, as he paced back and forth on the ugly and bare cement floor, inhaling the smoke of his cigarette as though it was pure-quality air, he felt confined inside the four walls of that elevator, locked in there like a sardine in its can.

He wasn’t good at this. The only thing he was capable of doing when he felt trapped was fighting. He fought with kicks and fists, he bared his teeth like a wild animal, he turned into the beast he had been back–don’t go there–back there. And it didn’t matter that that place was just that–a place–nor that he tried his best to pretend it didn’t have a name, because deep down, in the deepest part of his mind, it still had–Utkin.

Fuck, no.

“Where is that fucking doormat?” Those words were a canine growl at the base of his throat, burning with the fumes of his third cigarette in the last fifteen minutes. It scratched his throat with its dusty fingers, it knotted his stomach, it set his brain on fire, slamming it into survival mode.

Anatoly turned towards his brother, more concerned about his compulsive smoking than he was about Wesley’s tardiness. He didn’t like the guy, so he was happy he wasn’t there yet–his lateness also probably meant that the meeting would be cut short because, as he always loved to put it, “he was a busy man”.

He spat to the ground and wasn’t able to stop his head from shaking. Fucking rat. How could someone really expect someone of his caliber to take orders from someone who couldn’t even clean his own ass? His fingernails split the flesh of his palms, but he was too busy worrying about his brother to even notice.

The night before Vladimir had come home late–and Anatoly knew that just because he had asked–ordered–Petya to tail him. He had supposed he still hung out at illegal fights’ rings, but before that day it had only been just that, a supposition. He thought… He had been foolish enough to believe that…

What do you do when you find out someone you love is still attracted by the wrong people like a magnet? He didn’t know, not anymore; probably he had never even known for sure. Not once did he delude himself into thinking he wasn’t one of ‘the wrong people’ because–damn!–he was, and Vladimir was, too. But he and Paulina had tried to help him endless times–or, better, they had deluded themselves into thinking they could indeed help him, when all he knew was fighting and how to fight and how to win a fight–and they had always failed. Vladimir kept going back to his own special drug and while Tolya had believed he had stopped fighting, Piotr had proved his convictions wrong: Volodya fought and he fought well, he hadn’t lost his skills.

Faced with the news, he thought he had lost his brother.

And even now, as he stared at him, it felt like staring at a stranger. He couldn’t recognize his face, nor his ugly scar, nor his bruised knuckles. He sighed–he hadn’t meant to, so it had probably been his subconscious’ response to the terrible feeling of failure that threatened to drown him.

Right then, Vladimir turned, one eyebrow cocked into a questioning expression, and Anatoly couldn’t understand how he had managed to hear that sound above what he knew had to be the screams of his own thoughts. “I’m going to give the moron five minutes: if he’s not here by then, I’ll leave this fucking place and go home.”

“No Russian here, please.”

The brothers turned into the direction of the voice just to see Wesley walk into the open and half-built space, a young woman trailing behind him with an annoyed smirk on her face.

“No newbies here,” Anatoly retorted, mocking Wesley and throwing his own cigarette to the ground. “She can wait outside, whatever it is.”

“Unfortunately I fear this is not what my boss wants.” The man shrugged his shoulders, almost sorry he couldn’t fulfill Anatoly’s wish, and his words gave the girl the courage she needed to take a few steps forward, to better look at the brothers.

Vladimir groaned. He turned towards the city, visible through the missing windows, just as the night breeze slipped in, blowing the smoke of his cigarette in his face. His eyes closed on reflex even before his brain had the time to send out the order and the man inhaled deeply before reopening his eyes. “Make this quick, we don’t have whole night.” And, unable to help himself, he let a muttered ‘mudak’ slip past his lips.

“This is Y/N.”

Anatoly greeted her with a curt nod of his head, his eyes scanning her whole form. It wasn’t just to take her in, but also to check if there was any visible trace of a weapon poking out from somewhere. Wesley had eventually put his mind at peace, for the Ranskahovs would never leave their guns at home when they went to one of his stupid meetings, but they weren’t going to accept some unknown newbie to be armed in their presence.

“She works for us,” Wesley went on. He had clearly expected some different kind of reaction from the brothers and had been disappointed by its lack.

“We don’t care who works for you,” Vladimir spat, finally turning around and letting his cigarette fall to the ground. “We have our men and your boss has his. We do not care.”

They both hated Fisk’s bootlicker, with his tiny eyes and rectangular glasses and his stupid hair brushed back. He was annoying, he believed himself important when all he was, was a doormat. What role did he have in Fisk’s business? He never got his hands dirty–nor stained with blood. He was just a pawn. And yet, he always presented himself with that stupid expression plastered all over his face, screaming slap the shit out of my eye sockets.

Dick.

“Well, actually…” Wesley’s smirk grew bigger. At its sight, Vlad felt his blood boil through his veins, turn into a furious stream, threatening to blind him. “She will be working with you from now on.”

For a second it was as though time had stopped and dilated. The brothers turned to stare at each other with silent questions passing through their brains and over their eyes, and Anatoly saw Vladimir’s fingers twitch in the attempt to not close his hands in fists. He then watched him swallow–slowly, almost painfully, saliva as thick as blood as it slid down his brother’s throat.

Then, when he least expected it, Vlad let out a cold, robotic laughter. Tolya had feared he’d take his gun and shoot James Wesley between his eyes, yet his reaction chilled him to the bone.

“We will not work with woman,” he declared, nodding in Y/N’s direction. She had been standing there, staring at him with her clever eyes shielded behind her pair of glasses, and he hated her examining stare, almost as though he was some weird animal that needed to be studied. The scar on his face, the one Utkin–fuck–gifted him for his twenty-fifth birthday, burned almost as though he was back there and then, blood still spilling down his face like his mother’s tears. “We have all men we need. She would be useless.”

“Actually-” The girl had tried to speak, but Wesley stopped her with a wave of his hand.

“Our boss,” and he emphasized on the adjective, “was pretty disappointed by your failure, two months ago.”

“He should have spoken up as soon as it happened,” Anatoly cut in, taking a step towards his brother to stop him with his presence from doing anything stupid. “It has not happened ever since,” he smirked, breath coming out loud from his nostrils, head slightly tilting to one side. “How could this girl,” and he stared down at her, his gaze accusatory and mouth set in an annoyed sneer, “help?”

Vladimir chuckled and the sound somehow came out harsher than his previous laughter. It made Anatoly’s hair stand up on their ends and Wesley’s satisfied smirk fade. “Unless she’s good at sucking dick, she’s useless.”

“I know more than you do,” the girl cut in, too tired and annoyed by the Russians’ words. “And I will not trouble myself with your tiny dick, so you might as well find yourself someone else. Maybe you could even resort to your own hand.”

Vlad’s face contorted into a sneer, air coming out boiling and furious from his nose, hands wrapping up into fists. Anatoly had to hold him back, for he knew his brother would smash that girl’s head on the floor if he let him take another step forward.

“Come on, guys, come on.” Wesley had taken a step back, leaving Y/N alone on the front line. “This decision is unnegotiable. Y/N will come to your garage tomorrow morning and my boss expects to not hear one word from you,” he pointed to the Russians, “and not even you, Y/N. Work your problems out without killing each other and you might even earn a reward. She will check your clients, help you with commissions and business and if you let her do, a bigger portion of the business will be waiting for you.”

Anatoly nodded, forcing his brother to turn his back to Wesley and the girl. Unconcerned by the man’s first words upon meeting them that night, he switched to his native language. “I don’t want her with us either,” he confessed, grabbing Vladimir by his arm. “She could be sent to spy or God knows what else. But it’ll do us no good if she hacks into our shit and tells everything about our business to this dog or to their boss. Let’s play their game for a while and see how it goes.”

“It’ll all go to shit, brother!” Vladimir could hardly see straight. That fucking shipment had failed because the Asians had insisted on doing it their way and yet it was them that had to put up with a stupid babysitter. “Whatever she’s been sent here for is not to help us. Where’s Gao? Or the Japanese? This is a fucking trap and this stupid American and his boss only want to sack us, give our part of the deal to someone else and drop us somewhere on the bottom of the Atlantic.”

Toly turned to glance at the girl, who was staring at them both with an annoyed frown settled upon her otherwise sweet features. “Look at her, she looks just as annoyed as we are, though.” As Vladimir turned to make sure his brother’s words reflected the truth as his mirror welcomed him with the ugly reflection of his scar every morning, Anatoly continued with his reasoning. “If she really can hack into our shit, she wouldn’t be sent to work with us.”

“So what? You think she’s not a real hacker?”

Tolya grunted. “What I’m trying to say is, let’s wait and see. If anything goes wrong or is she tries to do something, we can still kill her.”

“Why don’t we do that now? Give me five minutes alone with her and no one will ever find her corpse.”

His brother was so stupid, Tolik thought. How couldn’t he see beyond his nose? Maybe he had left what little brain nature had given him back in Utkin, he reasoned, and that had to be the real reason behind his stupidity. “Why make her work with us if she can end us with her computer?”

Vlad peeked a glance at Y/N one last time before turning to stare at his brother. “Is Ivan sure she’s a hacker?”

Tolik nodded. “We can use her to know things about the people she works for, too.”

“I’m trusting you on this, brother,” Vladimir sighed, finally turning towards Wesley.

The man wasn’t just annoyed, he was pissed but, for once, he chose not to make any remarks about the men’s use of a language he did not understand. “Are you done?” he simply asked.

Anatoly nodded his by-now-throbbing head while his brother grimaced at the presence of the girl he was apparently forced to work with. “I want you at the garage tomorrow morning at five. We hate latecomers.”

>> chapter three >>

*

HAHA I can’t wait for you to read the beginning of chapter three (and for me to start it) bc Y/N will be pissed HAHAHAHA

Thoughts? Suppositions? Suggestions? I’m all ears.

TAGS (to be added to or to be removed from any list, shoot me an ask. Same goes for ‘Bratva’)

Everything: @idhrenniel @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @aya-fay @pebblesz892  @mblaqgi

Bratva (people not on the lists but that might still be interested): @sweetvengeancee @theranskahovs @brobachev

[areasontobreathe]

This is my Destiel Secret Santa gift for @sp0okyweek.  It took me four tries to get this completed, so I hope it’s okay, sp0okyweek.  I managed to get all three wishes in this! (That’s not why it took 4 tries, your wishes were so awesome that they just worked better all together) 

Three Wishes:

-Under the mistletoe

-Shipper!Sam is tired of the UST

-Dean absentmindedly kisses Cas before leaving 

Some profanity.

Edit: When I posted this the first time, it took out the Keep Reading line, so I had to fix that.

It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this?

It was only a kiss.

It was only a kiss.

- “Mr. Brightside” by The Killers

 The whole thing started back in October, and for no clear reason.  He was about to leave the bunker for a routine salt and burn, almost relaxed with the strange normality of the situation.  Things had been really quiet recently, so Sam and Castiel were in the library trying to find a case when Dean walked in.

“What’s up,” he asked lightly, raising his eyebrows at the man and angel gathered around the laptop. “Are we trying to figure out how much more hair Sammy needs before we have to start hunting him?”

Sam rolled his eyes and… there it was, Bitchface #42. “We were looking for a case, actually.”

“Did you find anything? I’m bored.”

“Actually, we found a basic haunting, standard salt and burn.  The remains are even on the property, in a marked grave, believe it or not.”

“Sweet!” Dean grinned. “I’m on it.  How far?”

“Valley, Nebraska,” Cas answered, his gravelly voice certainly not sending shivers down Dean’s spine to more interesting places. Certainly not. “Do you want me to join you?”

“Nah, I got it man. Shouldn’t be gone more than a day, day and half tops.”

About fifteen minutes later, after loading everything he needed into the Impala, Dean was checking his room one last time to see if he forgot anything he would need for the trip.  Grabbing an extra box of salt rounds, because why not, he was startled when he turned and nearly ran into the angel standing in his door way.  “Dude, stop sneaking up on me. We talked about this.” About a hundred times, actually.

“Dean, I am concerned about you going to address the ghost on your own,” Cas rumbled. “I – the last time you tried to hunt on your own – “

“I know,” Dean replied softly before clearing his throat. “But Cas, this is one of the first things every hunter learns to take care of.  After Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, dying a few times, and several Apocalypses, I think I can handle one restless spirit.  It isn’t even a poltergeist, dude.  Just a crying ghost.  No biggie.” Against his better judgment, he grabbed Cas’s face and made those vibrant blue eyes meet his. “I’ll be fine.  And I even promise to pray to you when I see the first sign of trouble, okay?” Cas looked down and nodded.  Dean sighed at the sight of the distressed angel, then ruffled his hair, dropped a brief kiss to his chapped lips, and walked to the garage.

He was half way to Valley, Nebraska, before he realized he had kissed Cas.   Pulling into the first gas station he came to, he threw Baby into park and started panicking.

He. Kissed. Cas.

He kissed Cas.

He kissed Cas.

He kissed Cas.

Dean had always been attracted to the black-haired presence in his life, since the first time he saw the shadow of wings against the wall of a barn warded with everything they could bring to bear at the time.  It had taken years for him to come to terms with a being of celestial intent in the body of a devout and profoundly religious man.  Years more of everything they had been through left Dean conflicted, and by the time everything leveled out in his head, he realized that all that struggle didn’t matter – Castiel was, no matter what changes he had been through, an Angel of the Lord, and unlikely to have any interest in any human as more than something to observe and protect.  Like a particularly stupid and self destructive endangered species.

All the effort he put in to keeping himself from fantasizing, touching, reaching out and just giving in… all to be undone by a nonchalant kiss.  Their first kiss. To make it even worse, he had done it like it wasn’t a big deal and walked off. And it should have been a big deal – the biggest deal.

With a groan at how stupid he could be, Dean hit his head on the steering wheel a few times before forcing himself to pull it together.  Nothing could be done now, and maybe Cas didn’t even realize what happened.  Yeah, that was pretty likely.  After all, Cas still wasn’t very good at being people, right? So it was really unlikely that Cas even understood the significance of what Dean had done.

Dean took a couple deep breaths, cranked up the radio, and focused on the ghost he was on his way to crisp, shoving down thoughts of what he had done.

 The case went seamlessly, and Dean was back at the bunker early in the morning a couple days later. He didn’t mention the kiss, and just as he suspected, Cas never said anything about it.   Weeks passed, and soon all of them were at Jody’s for a hearty Thanksgiving meal.  By now, Dean was well practiced at ignoring the glances she made between him and Cas, along with providing the expected snappy comebacks to Alex and Claire when they asked nosy questions that he insisted were way off the mark.  He was just happy to see Claire visibly less tense around the angel who had taken her father away from her; she gradually had gotten better about it only after she found out that Jimmy Novak’s soul had already moved on.

Finally, December came around, causing Sam to get overly excited – just like he did every year – about the idea of finally having a Christmas of their own.  One without an awful hotel room, or a hunt, or Santa trying to kill them.  Dean gave him a hard time, but secretly was almost as excited as his brother.  Not about the holiday, of course, but seeing in the gigantic killer of the supernatural (heir to the throne of Hell, Lucifer’s former favorite suit, etc) the same excitement most people saw in wide-eyed children.

In the end, the bunker had not one but three Christmas trees, decked and lit within an inch of collapsing.  The place smelled like a cross between a forest and a bakery with all the evergreen and cinnamon Sam had managed to stuff in and on every available surface.  Cas got in on the action when he discovered hot chocolate, claiming it reminded him of Gabriel. They even somehow ended up with a tiny little village, with each house lit up and buried in fake snow.  

It was only when the mistletoe started appearing that Dean decided he was revoking Sam’s Pinterest privileges.  Dean had been walking into the library just as Cas was leaving, and suddenly they both were stuck in the doorway, something that should never have happened since the door was more than wide enough for both Winchester brothers to pass through without trouble. They weren’t even touching each other, they were just – stuck.

Well, this was awkward.

Dean cleared his throat. “Um, Cas? Why are we stuck?” When he glanced over at the trench-coated angel, he saw blue eyes squinting up at the top of the door.  Following the glance, it turned out that the scowl was directed at a small bunch of mistletoe hanging in the doorway.

“It appears it has been spelled to trap the two people who walk beneath it.  I’m not entirely sure what that would accomplish, however.”

Swearing vigorously, the older Winchester immediately knew who was behind this. “SAMMY! Get your ass in here right now and take this stupid weed down!”

Thumping footsteps preceded the arrival of Sam, sliding to a stop in his socks, face full of glee. “Finally! It took me forever to hang that stuff anywhere I thought you two would get caught!”

“Not funny, Sammy. Take it down, now.”

“No way.  I paid Rowena entirely too much to put the enchantments on those, I’m leaving you there until you free yourselves.”

“Rowena is in on this?”

“Oh, totally. Everyone’s tired of this little dance you two have going on.  And I do mean everyone.  Even the demons we’ve encountered recently have mentioned it.” Sam pointed back and forth between his brother and the angel.

“Samuel,” Cas growled. “Where did you find the holy oil that she used to bind angels with this spell?”

“Not telling.  I may need it again if you two don’t pull your heads out of your asses.”

Dean sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sam. Just tell us how to get out of this? You said we can free ourselves. How?”

“Dude, it’s mistletoe. One guess.”

“You want me to kiss Cas? That’s gross, dude.” He immediately felt sick to his stomach as the words left his lips.

“If you find kissing me so repugnant, why did you kiss me before?” Cas asked, pain and confusion evident in his voice.

“You kissed him before!? When!?”

“It was kind of an accident – shut up, Sam – kind of. It was before I went for that salt and burn in Nebraska, and Cas was upset that I would get hurt, or die again, and I told him I’d be fine, and – I just kissed him.  Like, to reassure him, I guess? Why am I even telling you this!?”

“We added a truth spell. Like I said, tired. Of. Your. Shit.” More emphatic pointing.

“Truth spell means Dean does find the idea of kissing me ‘gross’ as he said,” Castiel pointed out mournfully.

“Dude, no, that’s not what I meant, Cas. I meant Sam wanting us to kiss is gross.  He’s my brother, he should definitely not have opinions about that.  I do want to kiss you, I have for a while – damn this – “

Dean’s swearing was cut off completely by two hands on his face and two chapped lips crushed against his own.  Surprised, he didn’t react at first, but when he realized what was happening, all he could think was fuck it before pulling the angel to him and giving in to the kiss with every fiber of his being.  It was everything he ever wanted, and better than he could ever imagine as he felt not just the man in his arms, but the flicker of grace against his soul. Sunlight and whiskey and electricity, all poured into one moment.

He had no clue how much time passed before he pulled back for air.  “Three cheers for the pizza man,” he murmured, panting slightly and dizzy from lack of oxygen.  When he looked over, Sam was standing there, phone out and tapping on the screen. Still holding tightly to Cas, who was nuzzling his neck and shoulder, it took a moment to put more words together. “Sammy, what are you doing?”

“Finally! I would have said get a room, but it was my fault you were standing there.  Everyone sends their congratulations, by the way,” the taller man replied with a cheeky grin.

“Wait, what?”

Sam waggled his phone at Dean. “Everyone knew about this, and they wanted photos for proof.”

“You took photos!? I’m gonna kill you!”

“Dean,” a purring voice came from his neck. Oh, hey, Cas was still there.  That was nice at least. “Let it go. We have more important things to worry about.”

Turning to look at the mop of messy black hair, Dean went into panic-mode. “What do you mean?”

“You are going to follow me, and we are going to be very busy for the next several days.  I would like to experience human bonding with you, and I think you are going to have to teach me quite a bit.”

Ignoring the disgusted yelps coming from the general direction of one Sam Winchester, Dean flushed hotly. “I thought sex with humans was about the same as bestiality to angels… That’s why I never… I don’t want you to think I’m disgusting for this…”

“I rebuilt this body, atom by atom. I agonized over the placement of every freckle and every eyelash. Balthazar was quite vexed with my fixation on your eyes being the exactly right shade of green.  You will never be disgusting to me, Dean.  You are the most beautiful of my Father’s creations.”

Tears threatened Dean’s eyes at the words he was hearing. He was prepared to be told that he wasn’t good enough.  He spent his entire life not being good enough.  But hearing Castiel, Angel of Thursday, former God tell him he was perfect? There was no way to prepare for that.

His thoughts were interrupted by the third person present. “So, yeah.  I’m gonna go for a while.  It sounds like you two have a lot to – ahem – talk about.  Kitchen’s stocked, stay out of my room please.”

“Sam – “ he called plaintively at his brother’s retreating back.

Sam turned and just smiled. “Consider this a Christmas gift, Dean.  Merry Christmas, stay out of my room.”

Dean smiled back weakly as he felt Castiel take his hand. “Merry Christmas, Sam.”

@destielsecretsanta

[fictionpants]

Prompts List

List of prompts that can be requested (w/ or w/o a requested person/character) - [most of these are prompts I found on pinterest in the writing prompts tag - will be adding prompts continuously] - Also, I’ve made a little list of rules when it comes to requests: https://fictionpants.tumblr.com/post/186141917542/rules-for-requests

1. “I apologise in advance for the inconvenience my murder is going to have on your life.”

2. “I hate you.” “Why? I’m lovely.”

3. “Murder wasn’t on today’s agenda.” “It’s not on anyone’s.” “No, it’s on mine, just not until next Thursday.”

4. “Hold on, you died.” “Yeah, well it didn’t stick.”

5. “This is my life now. I have climbed this hill and now I will die upon it.” “Shut up. We’ve only been hiking for twenty minutes.”

6. “She’s crying, what do I do?” “Go comfort her.” “How do I do that?” “Start with hugs.” “With what?”

7. “What’s our exit strategy?” “Our what?” “Oh my god, we’re all going to die.”

8. “I’m going to need chicken blood, salt, five candles, and a bottle of vodka.” “Vodka? For the spell?” “No, that’s just to make me feel better about ripping a hole in the universe.”

9. “Are you clinically insane or incredibly annoying?” “I don’t know, probably both.”

10. “I saved your lives.” “How? By stealing our freedom? Our minds? Our identity?”

11. “It takes a very special kind of idiot to pull off what you just did.”

12. “I’m getting really tired of pretending I’m not evil.”

13. “Did you just agree with me?” “Oh I wish I could take-” “Nope! You said it! No take-backs!”

14. “It’s a long story.” “You conned me into thinking you were dead for eleven months. I have time.”

15. “I regret a lot of things. Having this conversation tops the list.”

16. “I had a thought.” “Oh no.” “I swear it’s a good one this time!’

17. “FBI, open the door!” “No. It’s cooler when you break in.”

18. “Do you think they remember you?” “I sure hope not after what I did the last time I was here.” “What did you do?” “You’ll find out.”

19. “You look…” “Beautiful, I know. Can we move on?”

20. “You scared me!” “Well, I am naturally terrifying.”

21. “I’d agree with you, but then we’d both be wrong.”

22. “I’d take a bullet for you, you know that.” “You’re immortal, and I’m going to kill you if you keep saying that.”

23. “You really have no clue who I am?” “You’d think the confused looks and blank stare would have answered that for you.”

24. “I am way too sober for this.”

25. “You don’t strike me as a professional criminal.” “That’s what makes me so good at it.”

26. “I don’t think of you as a protector. More like a distraction.”

27. “We have five people trying to kill us right now, what are we supposed to do?” “Actually, it’s more like eight.” “Oh, sorry I wasn’t specific enough!”

28. “If you could even comprehend where I’ve come from, you would be terrified of me.”

29. “I saved your life!” “You pushed me off a building.”

30. “You know we’re not all born with the ability to throw fireballs, right?”

31. “How do we keep getting into these situations?” “Eleven years of friendship and I still don’t know.”

32. “Did you hear that scream?” “Yes, I’m the one who screamed.”

33. “Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?” “Yes.” “What if I just break his nose a little?”

34. “You are remarkably well behaved tonight. What did you do?”

35. “You’re-you’re crushing my spleen.” “You don’t even know where your spleen is.”

36. “I’m no detective, of course, but I think this dead body might not be alive anymore.”

37. “Right now, I don’t know if I want to kiss you or shove you off a bridge.” “Can I pick?”

38. “The real treasure was the memories we made along the way.” “I almost died!” “Ah yes, that was my fondest memory.”

39. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you!” “And I’m trying to subtly avoid it!”

40. “Hey, I didn’t kill anyone today!” “What do you want? A gold star?”

41. “I hate you.” “Why? I’m lovely.”

42. “On a scale from one to ten, how bad do you think it would be if-” “At least a twenty.”

43. “Literally everything about this is illegal.”

44. “Seven billion people in the world, and you’re overreacting because we killed one man.” “But-” “Seven. Billion. People. Now quit the complaining and drink your smoothie.”

45. “It’s not my birthday.” “It’s definitely your birthday.” “Give me a calendar. It’s not and I will prove it to – oh. Never mind. Happy birthday to me.”

46. “On a scale from one to ten, how bad do you want to kill me right now?” “I’m hovering somewhere in the high thirties.”

47. “I can fix that.” “I’m calling a professional.” “I’m a professional.” “A more professional, professional.”

48. “What’s the word for that infestation of tiny creatures over there?” “Those are children. That’s a school.”

49. “I have a concern.” “Just one?” “No, but I didn’t think you’d let me speak my piece if I told you how many I actually have.”

50. “Why are you glaring at me?” “I’m hoping you’ll spontaneously combust.”

51. “If we die, I’m going to spend the rest of our afterlife reminding you that this was all your fault.” “That’s cool, I wouldn’t mind having company while being a ghost.”

52. “What are you so afraid of?” “You.”

53. “What is that THING in your backpack?” “It’s my new pet dragon.” “Dragons aren’t real!” “Then why is there one in my backpack?”

54. “I hate the sight of blood.” “Then maybe you shouldn’t kill for a living.”

55. “All that blood looks good on you. It really brings out your eyes.”

56. “Want to see what kind of trouble we can get into?” “Oh god, we’re going to die, aren’t we?” “It’s a Tuesday, I know how to restrain myself.” “You absolutely do not.”

57. “I don’t give a damn.” “You give so many damns they’re visible from SPACE.”

58.  “It’ll be easy. You just have to seduce them.” “You’re kidding, right? I’m about as seductive as a cabbage.”

59. “You’re not as evil as people think you are.” “No. I’m much worse.”

60. “That’s a terrifyingly accurate drawing of us.” “It’s almost like I’m good at what I do.”

61. “You have no power over me.” “You sure about that?”

62. “This isn’t good.” “How can you tell?” “See how they’re slowly surrounding us? And they all have guns and knives and I think one guy is carrying a machete?”

63. “He’s right behind me, isn’t he?” “Actually he’s right in front of you.”

64. “I’m not a thief. I’m just really good at acquiring things that aren’t mine.”

65. “I’m not completely human anymore. Remember that next time you want to punch me in the face.”

66. “Is that blood?” “No?” “That’s not a question you’re supposed to answer with another question.”

67. “I never stood a chance, did I?” “That’s the sad part – you did once.”

68. “It’s okay, I’m here.”

69. “I’m not going to leave you.”

70. “Everything is okay.”

71. “I’m going to protect you.”

72. “I believe in you.”

73. “Do you feel guilty? Like, at all?” “I don’t have time to feel guilty. And neither do you.”

74. “Stop that!” “Stop what?” “Doing that thing with your face when you’re happy. It’s making me nauseous.”

75. “What are you doing?” “…Eating.” “We’re being held hostage and you decide to raid the kitchen?” “They didn’t say the fridge was off limits.”

76. “Is that a dead body?” “Maybe?” “It is. I can see it right in front of me.” “I promise I’ll clean it up before dinner.”

77. “If we’re going to get out of here, we’re going to have to work together. After that, we can go back to killing each other.” “Oh, fine.”

78. “That’s not funny.” “I thought it was.” “You don’t count. You started laughing in the middle of a funeral because you started thinking of a meme you saw on Facebook.”

79. “Do we need wine?” “No, I need wine, you need to put your pants back on.” “But life is so freeing without them.” “Pants. On. Now.”

80. “Can you please go be stupid somewhere that’s away from me?”

81. “I feel like I’m being stabbed.” “How do you even know what it feels like to be stabbed?”

82. “Will you be quiet?” “I didn’t say anything!” “Well stop thinking so loud.”

83. “Did you get my note?” “Of course I got it. You taped it to my forehead while I was sleeping.”

84. “You’re a psychopath.” “I prefer creative.”

85. “Why do people keep trying to put this blanket on me?” “Because you’re in shock.” “That doesn’t mean I need a blanket. It means I need booze.”

86. “Oh no.” “What is it? What happened? Who died?” “I think I just felt an emotion.” “You have GOT to be kidding me.”

87. “When all this is over, I want my sanity back.”

88. “That’s definitely not true.” “Of course it is. I read it on Wikipedia.”

89. “You forgot me.” “It was an accident.”

90. “Why do you keep risking your life? To prove a point?” “Yes.”

91. “I would like to join you in acknowledging the difficulties of your life.” “You are the WORST at this comfort thing.”

92. “You’ve got to stop doing that.” “What?” “Saying things that make me want to kiss you.”

93. “Look, if you want to conjure some demon spawn from the great beyond, that’s all fine and dandy. Just wait for me to leave before you start.”

94. “Just calm down!” “My leg just dematerialised and you want me to calm down!?”

95. “You know what they say, panicking burns a shit ton of calories.” “Who even says that?” “Me. Just now.”

96. “Don’t mind me, I’ll just be in the corner, having another existential crisis.”

97. “Oh my god, I had the exact same dream!” “Really?” “Are you crazy? Of course I didn’t.”

98. “I need to go de-stress.” “Where are you going?” “To demolish the living room.”

99. “I think I’m having a feeling. How do I make it stop?”

100. “I’m bitter and complicated. It’s one of my charms.” “I don’t think you know what that word means. Or how to count.”

101. “I don’t know what the protocol is for revealing your secret identity so, hi? Surprise?”

102. You always think you know what you’d do when faced with the end of the world. Me? I went home and took a nap.

103. “Damn it, why aren’t you obeying the laws of physics?”

104. “I’d hug you right now, but you’re covered in evidence. And I also really don’t want to.” “Evidence is a really nice euphemism for blood, gore and guts.” “You’re totally missing the point. Do you know how pissed I am at you right now?”

105.  “This way is more efficient.” “This way is going to get us killed.”

106. “You’re not my favourite person today.” “I’m not your favourite person on any day.”

[icedragontamer]

A fairy short story

I looked at the image of a coloring in fairy on Pinterest today and this story popped into my head. I don’t know why, it just did really. And I know my grammar and punctuation isn’t great, but may you read through the obvious mistakes :)

~~~

In a world of mermaids and dragons, where wizard rule supreme and magic infuses every particle of the universe, no one notices the little folk. Which is just as well, for they don’t like to be noticed. Their world, so expansive and colourful, can be found between the blades of grass that cover the ground and the bark that peels from the trees. It’s in this world we listen to the stories of the fairy folk.

Around a campfire, so small it wouldn’t have held to the size of a flame on a candle, six little fairies sat and supped by the failing light of sunset. Of these six, five were sitting enraptured while the sixth, a wizened old fairy with battle scarred hands and wings, regaled them with an ancient tale. “… Of all the fairies, these were the most rare and beautiful. It is said that on this green world we live, only six existed. They were called the Moonflowers.” One of the younger fairies, a boy barely grown in his beard, interrupted. “How did they know there were only six? I mean, what if there were places that weren’t checked?” He rushed quickly, and eagerly awaited an answer. While this story was new to none, every time a little detail was added, making the tale more intriguing with each retelling. The wizened old storyteller sat back, inhaling his pipe, lost in thought. Slowly he exhaled the smoke, the cloud in the air bringing in a mystic feel as the man answered slowly. “We cannot completely know, for our intelligence is only as good as our folklore – but these Moonflowers were each placed in a circular ring, spanning the edge of our world. The sites of these still exist, though the flowers have long since perished to history.” A shout of dismay echoed from one or two of the listeners. Bodies shifted around where they sat. This news was not welcomed by anyone. The silence that followed, however, was deafening. A scholar, having kept quiet until now, murmured - more to himself than anyone listening – “What was so special about these flowers, and the fairies that lived in them, that they were recorded in our lore books?” “Surely you know?” cried the old teller. His surprise echoed through the group of the more knowing members. The scholar shook his head, muted. He had only recently joined the troupe at the behest of his cousin, one of the eager members currently shaking his head at his cousins ineptitude. “In this case, let me enlighten you. Each of the Moon fairies had the ability to heal those who were sick and injured, even up until the point of death. Through their healing, they could extend the lifespan of other fairies. As you may be able to tell, this was a very popular trait to have, and the fairies were well received by locals and travelers. Lords and kings built their estates around the dwellings of these fairies, treating them like esteemed members of their community. They wanted for nothing, living in riches and comfort. But….” The narrator drifted off, his eyes clouding over with anger, fists tightening into balls in his lap. His young charges leaned in, their attention so sharp it could cut steel. Anticipation emanated from each of the five listeners and radiated through the air. With the timing of a trained stage performer, the teller took his pipe and inhaled slowly, removed it and exhaled with precise, agonizing pacing. His voice turned as hard as his eyes as he told the next part of the story. “A couple of hundred years ago, a fairy by the name of Ulron took interest in these beauties of creation. He made it a point to visit each one. This was shortly before he became Ulron, Destroyer of Life.” Even though the listeners had heard this all before, a collective gasp issued from the group. One even fluttered up from his seat, before landing back down with an audible thunk. He went on… “His evil, destructive tendencies weren’t known before this, but he was always a large, intimidating-looking fairy. He could even give rats a run for their money, and that was back before he had his army and fortress. No, I digress. Ulron, unknown to us then, took a very eager interest in these moonflowers. This would, ultimately, be their downfall.” He shook his head sadly. This was never easy to speak, even after all this time. “The first three were inside the palaces of the kings the ruled then. He levelled each of the grand buildings and exposed the wilted and empty flowers, no moon fairies in sight. Since the flowers had died, it made sense that the fairies that dwelled within had also perished. He was labelled a murderer.” The old teller took a breath and sighed. “The next was brought out of the manor she had lived in, her throat slit and her body still warm. Ulron had been earlier that day. Another victim on his list of casualties. But that isn’t the worst of it.” Looking around the group, the teller could see a tear rolling down one or two cheeks, and a head bowed. They knew what was coming next. “The second last of her kind, and the last sighted moon fairy in existence, was found in a dungeon. She had been chained to the wall with her arms above her head. Cuts and bruises were visible across her body, noticeable by the lack of any garments. Her wings… sheared off at the base….” Here he choked. No matter how many times he told this tale, he always became emotional at this point. He took a few deep breaths to steady his emotions. “Her ribs were showing, she had been starved. The source of her death, though, was the dagger in her heart. This death was squarely on Ulrons shoulders, as a soldier encountered him in the cruel, cold act of plunging that dagger into her chest. Not only had he tortured this beautiful creature, but he then killed her in cold blood. This was when the world saw his true colours, saw him for the monster that he is. As for the sixth, no one knows her fate. It is safe to assume that she has been dead as long as her sisters, perished at the same hand of the murderer himself. This I know….” Here, he raised his head and looked each listener squarely in the eyes. “… I know, because where her flower once grew, now stands the fortress of Ulron, Destroyer of Life.”

It was a while before the fairies gathered round the campfire could regain their composure. Every time that story had been told – from the cradle of their infancy to the warmth that now surrounded them – the fairies emotions ran high and the grief that filled them towards the end of the story fueled a restless anger, driven by the desire to enact revenge and the sorrow that these beautiful lives were lost to eternity. It would be hours before sleep would find them.

~~~

“So, I get the legend and all that, but why are we doing what we’re doing” A question hissed between two fairies, following the path their comrades were trekking ahead. The fairy at whom the question was directed sighed (as much as one can sigh mid-hike). He stopped briefly, pulled out a worn sheaf of parchment, and handed it to his friend before continuing the walk. The friend in question peered at the lettering on the page, before handing it back with a curt “I can’t read”. “We’re doing this” explained the bearer of the message “because my dad sent me a message a couple of months ago. He worked in Ulrons fortress, because he had no choice you see, and he told me in this –“ here he gestured to the paper, tucked safely back into his shirt pocket “- that he entered a restricted zone one day and caught a glimpse of a white glowing flower. So I asked of whats-his-face up ahead about it and he got all excited, said it was probably the lost moonflower. And here we are”. He finished with a flourish at his surroundings. A raised eyebrow was the initial response he received. “We’re here on a cryptic message with a madman for a leader, based on a tale that’s hundreds of years old? And we’re not flying? Why?” The message bearer known as Jad looked at the other fairy, whom he calls Tyre. “Because Ulron has scouts in this area and we are trying to get there by stealth. As for why we’re here, I haven’t heard from my dad since, so it’s not just to check out this story.” Tyre nodded, he could understand that. He had joined because his friend had asked for his companionship on a journey, and he’d liked the sound of an adventure. The friend in question, Irric, was a few paces behind them, munching on some dried clover he had stashed in his vest pocket. Satisfied with the answer, Tyre continued walking in quiet. It took three days to reach the edge of the barren lands that were home to Ulrons fortress. This assembled impenetrable labyrinth of towers and solid rock walls housed the most feared despot in the region, as well as an assortment of guards and workers. 

(to be worked on further, just know there was a battle, monologue “imagine the good she could do in the world!” “I’ve seen your ‘good’ and she will not be used like a THING again!” and Ulron killed them)

~~~

Ulron walked back into his domain, clinging to the wound on his arm, blood oozing out and leaving bright red splotches on the ground as he passed by.  His bloody sword had been sheathed after the battle and his focus now was on regulating his breathing, placing one foot in front of the other, and above all reaching the center of his home to check the safety of his charge. He passed faces filled with fear and heard the scurrying of footsteps as his minions scrambled out of his way. Left here… forward through this room… down these steps…. Hard right… his mind kept his singular purpose in mind as he moved through familiar surroundings. He passed into the restricted zone forbidden to all his denizens. No one had been down here, except for the grunt worker, damn him and all the trouble he brought. His execution hadn’t been swift enough. Slowly he turned into a corridor and looked up at five portraits hanging on the wall, name plaques polished and shining underneath each one. He stopped and placed a finger on the names of the first three. Pruscilla, Enamella, Irintina. Three pale, feminine faces peered at him from the portraits of each. They had been taken from the respective castles of the three fairies he never had the chance to meet. For each he remembered the wilted or browned flowers that had shriveled up long before he arrived. Briefly he recalled the meeting that set him on the quest that would change his life forever. The accidental encounter with Katara, her eager interest in him and her yearning for news of her sisters, who had fallen out of contact with her long ago. His journey to the edges of the world, searching out the legends of the moonflowers.  Him sneaking into the first castle, excited to meet the sister of his friend, only to find a dead flower and no fairy – alive or dead – in sight. A castle levelled around him as his fury searched for the culprit. Disappointment and anger meeting him at the next two sites where the same fate had met two more of the moon maidens. Ulron stopped at the third portrait and traced the name Sarania below. He looked into the pale visage of a woman draped in jewels and fabric. This picture he had taken from the room in which she had been found locked away. Memories flashed across his eyes. Sarania had been the possession of a rich and powerful king who had kept her locked high away from any other being. She had been separated from the flower she was created with and decked in corsets and stiff finery. Ulron had seen her long enough to rejoice that she was alive and hear her cry out as the king grabbed her from behind and, yelling “If I can’t have her, no one will!”, hoist the jeweled dagger at his hip and slit her throat in front of him. The last portrait was the hardest for Ulron to gaze upon. His eyes blurred as his fingers traced the familiar lettering beneath, making out the name Nascia. Unbidden images passed into conscience, taking him back to the first and last day they met. It had taken a long time to find her, as her flower wasn’t where Katara had remembered it to be. It had taken some investigative skill and sleuth to infiltrate the castle she was being kept at. After searching the castle, he came at last to the dungeons, and at the furthermost cell he found her, chained to a wall and breathing short, raspy breaths. Her life was nearing its end and Ulron could see the evidence of months – perhaps even years – of torture inflicted upon her. Quickly he moved towards her and tried to find weaknesses or releases in the cuffs and chains that held her to the wall. He whispered to her the he was sent by Katara and he would get her out. His fingers slipped on the impenetrable bonds that held her and stopped completely in horror as he heard the only two words she weakly whispered. “…..kill….me…” “No!” He vehemently whispered back. “I’ll get you out, just… give me… a minute” he grunted as he tugged the chains. Behind him, a creaking of a door and footsteps approaching. Nascia lifted her head a fraction, drew a long breath, and groaned. “He’s coming… please…” her head fell back down and a tear glistened as it fell from her cheek. Behind him a shout emanated. His own tears brimming, he placed his hand over her mouth and drew his dagger, plunging it as carefully as he could into her heart to ensure a swift passing. As he drew his hand away, her last breath held a faint, almost imperceptible “thank you” before she stopped moving and he was grabbed from behind.  He remembered the rage that had filled his body as he fought off the arms that grabbed him and the fear and hate that propelled him into fresh air and up above the ground. He nearly lost his life that day alongside her.

Ulrons hand dropped to his injury as he continued along the corridor and into the clearing ahead. Light filled his vision as he walked into the grove of lush greenery. Flora and scrub surrounded him, reminding him of the multicolored jewels that some fairies desired. Still, he moved on. At the heart of this hidden paradise was a large white flower, each petal turned up towards the moonlight streaming from above. He climbed the pile of rocks and onto a platform built to be level with the flower opening. Glancing down, he smiled at the translucent white face and milky eyes turned his way. Nestled in the heart of this gigantic, ethereal flower was a fairy as delicate and mystical as her floral counterpart. Her wings were like those of a lacewing, transparent and iridescent. Skin so fragile that her veins could be seen underneath. White hair cascaded down her shoulders, gentle pink color in her cheeks and lips. His gaze was drawn to her eyes, completely milk and as luminous as the moon from which she drew her strength. Sightless, she raised a hand in his direction, smiling. Warmly he reached out and touched her hand with his fingers. “Katara” he murmured fondly. “Ulron! Is that you?” she asked eagerly. She knew the answer already, but this was her favorite greeting to him, as he had to affirm it was he. “Indeed it is, my petal. Were you expecting someone else?” Katara grinned and rolled over, kneeling. “You know I wasn’t, silly!” she chimed.  Her hand traced the back of his hand, moving up the rough bumps of battle scars etched into his skin, until she found a wet, sticky patch of blood from his wound. She drew back, gasping. “No!” she exclaimed. “You’ve been in a fight, you’re hurt!” gently she lay her hand on his arm and her hand started to glow. Quickly he lifted it up and placed it back down on the flower petal she was kneeling on. “I’m okay, Katara. There was a small squabble, but it’s sorted now. I’ll be fine, I promise.” Katara scowled. “Why won’t you let me heal you?” she demanded. Ulron sighed. “You know why. I don’t want to be the monster people claim I am. Please, don’t waste yourself on me. Besides, it’s only a nick. I’m already bandaging it, see!” He lifted her hand long enough to feel the rough bandage he had pulled from his hip pocket, then gently placed it back down. Her scowl lessened and she sighed. “I worry about you, Ul, out there with bad people around. I hate it when you get hurt.” Her sentiment touched his heart and he chuckled. “Petal, while I think of you, I can withstand anything. I’m practically invulnerable. Speaking of…” he drifted off and eyed the vegetation surrounding them. “… have you been okay? Are you safe?” Katara felt ahead of her, moving little by little until she was crawling into his lap. She put her arms around his neck and smiled, a big open hearted smile that lit her whole face up. “With you here to protect me? Of course I am!” Sighing relief, Ulron gently placed his forehead on hers and murmured “I’m glad” before gently picking her up and placing her back into her flower, with all the care as if she were spun glass. She rolled onto her back, and he lay down on the rock with his torso facing her. Sightless, Katara raised her arm and reached above her before dropping it back to her side. “Ul, could you tell me about colors again, please?” she asked.  A hearty guffaw emerged from his chest and he settled down closer to the smooth surface he rested on. “Of course, petal. You know the light breeze caressing your hair? That’s what light blue looks like. And the warmth on your face when the sun is up? That’s what orange looks like. Silver is the moonlight you feel lighting up your face. The night dew is a deep indigo……”

[rosemary-morgan]

Josiah Trelawny x F.Reader: You deserve better - Part 6

(pictures found on pinterest)

Good day to all of your wonderful people 🌹💗 Here comes the new chapter of “You deserve better” I would like to thank everyone for the feedback and likes 🤗💗 

Special thanks to @gangofgunslingers​  💗😘

If any of you wants to be tagged so as not to miss the latest chapters, let me know 😉

Warning: domestic violence, abusive husband, hurt and angst 

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 /Part 5 / Part 7

(¯`v´¯)                                                      (¯`v´¯) `*.¸.*´                                                        `*.¸.*´ ¸.•´¸.•*¨) ¸.•*¨) (`’·.¸(`’·.¸  ¸.·’´) ¸.·’´)  (¨*•.¸ (¨*•.¸`•.¸ (¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´ ¸¸.•¨¯`•               •`¯¨• ¸¸ `•. `•.¸) `•.¸) `*.¸.*´                                                       `*.¸.*´

You deserve better - Part 6

You slowly walked up the stairs. Every step felt so wrong, knowing that you didn’t belong to this place. No word came over your pretty lips as you made your way to your bedroom. You could only guess what would await you there. Henry had made it clear what he would expect from you tonight. But he was so drunk, that you hoped he would just faint and leave you alone. Henry laughed all the time while he was trying to climb the stairs. This situation annoyed you a lot. "Darling, oh my darling! Pretty, pretty liar!" He sang with a ripple of laughter. Henry was especially irritable in this state, which is why you didn't say a word to him. You arrived before Henry into the bedroom, where you immediately sat down at your dressing table. You wanted to take off the jewelry that had annoyed you the whole evening. Jewelry that Henry once gave you. You wanted to burn these damn things. All of his gifts were meaningless to you. No man would ever be able to buy your love. As you took off your jewelry, you felt the intense looks of your husband. You tried to ignore them, so you didn't dare to look at him. You pretended not to notice. But who did you want to fool? You knew Henry would take what he wanted. However, this time you wouldn't let him abuse you. As soon as you had finished this thought, you heard Henry approach you and when you felt his strong hands on your tender shoulders, you swallowed nervously. His hand stroked gently through your hair as he looked at you with hungry eyes. "You are mine, Y/N." You said nothing but looked at the necklace on the wooden table in front of you. Henry was tender at first, but as soon as he noticed that you didn't want to be touched by him, he became aggressive. Of course, you were afraid, yet you wanted to be strong. "I am a human being, Henry! I am not your property!" You instantly rose from your seat to move away from Henry. You knew that he would soon lose his patience. Then you heard him growl. Deep and long. Your heart was pounding with fear, yet you looked back at him with the same contempt. "Enough, Henry! I will leave you!" But Henry didn't take you seriously. He didn't believe you dare to leave him. "Where do you want to go, Y/N? You're worthless without me!" You bite your jaw hard while looking at him with scorn. "You are the worthless one, Henry! You are a miserable drunk who abuses his wife!" Henry knew you were telling the truth about him, but he didn't want to hear this. Your words made him angrier and he slowly approached you. "What did you say?" "You heard me, Henry! You´re a bastard!" He slapped hard your face and burning pain filled your eyes with tears. Henry grabbed you by the arms, growling like a wild animal. "Watch what you say, you beast!" "YOU ARE THE BEAST!"

With all the strength you could summon, you pushed Henry away from you. He was very surprised and shocked at the same time that you dared to oppose him. You didn't know where you suddenly got the courage to rebel against him, but you did and it felt damn good! Maybe the thought that you would soon be with Josiah gave you this strength. You are visibly frightened when Henry threw the chair from your dresser to your feet. He kept throwing objects around to intimidate you, which often worked. You knew Henry was strong. You also knew that he could kill you with little effort if he wanted to. You hoped that he wouldn´t go that far... "What are you going to do, Henry? Do you want to hit me again? Do you think you can keep me with you this way?" "SHUT UP!" Henry became more and more furious. His eyes were full of anger, his face was completely red. When he tried to attack you, you jumped to the side. Henry fell to the ground, growling. This man was not even able to stay on his feet at the moment, as drunk as he was.

You looked down at him with a cold expression in your face, while you shook your head. "You are miserable, Henry. How does it feel to lie on the floor? Do you feel humiliated? Yes?" The anger in Henry was beyond words. How dare you to talk to him like that? He cursed himself for drinking so much. He would happily punish you now, but he couldn't. "You damn whore! When I'm done with you, you won't be able to leave this house for the next few weeks!" His words were to be taken seriously, but right now you had the chance to end this all by leaving this house. "Goodbye Henry!" You had no words left for your husband. You would leave him. You hope that you would never have to see this man in your life again. "Where are you going?! Y/N! I'm warning you!" But you ignored him, turned around. But suddenly Henry grabbed your ankle, even brought you to your knees. As drunk as he was, there was still some strength in his body. His hands grabbed the fabric of your skirt to pull himself up to you. "You will stay here! WITH ME!" "NO!" You managed to free yourself from his grip. Immediately, you got up and ran out of the room. It was important not waste any time, even if you were sure that Henry wouldn´t be able to do anything against your decision for the next few hours. Finally, you had the opportunity and the courage to leave him. You hurried down the stairs with quick steps, holding on to the railing to avoid tripping over your long dress. But before you left, you wanted to get the money from your hiding place - In a storeroom under the stairs. Your money was in a small box, which was hidden behind old garments and towels. You reached for the box, took out all the money before you were ready to run. You ran to the door, finally leaving this horrible man. You didn't take anything with you. You left everything behind to escape to your new life. Josiah would be visibly surprised to see you tonight. For the first time, you were thankful that Henry was so drunk. Otherwise, you wouldn´t have been able to escape. The streets of Saint-Denis were really dangerous at night, but the greater danger lurked in your own house. You couldn't believe what you were doing. You felt so free and so happy. Even the thunderstorm that suddenly broke over Saint-Denis couldn't take that feeling away from you. The rain fell on you, soaking your clothes and your whole body with cold water - but you didn't care. Now there was only one thing left to do. You pulled your wedding ring off your finger, carelessly threw it on the wet, muddy earth. Now you were free...

Josiah found no rest that night. He felt that it was a mistake to let you go. The magician walked restlessly through his living room. His thoughts were only about you. He thought about getting you out of your home. He was aware that this would reveal the affair between the two of you. But Josiah wanted to beat up Henry anyway. Just because Josiah was a gentleman didn´t mean that he had never joined into a fight. A few months ago, when he was with Arthur in Valentine, they had got into a fight with two men. In the end, he and Arthur had ridden back to the camp with bloody faces. Josiah was taken out of his thoughts when the doorbell rang. The attractive magician was visibly surprised that someone was standing at his door at this time. But he instantly remembered that it could be you. Josiah's heart was pounding wildly and he hurried to the entrance of his house to see if you had come. When he finally opened the door, you stood in front of him - completely soaked. "Y/N!" Josiah couldn´t put into words how happy he was to see you. A big smile was on his lips and you were smiling too. You could finally be with your loved one. You didn't hesitate for long. You pressed your body against his and Josiah put his strong arms around you. A deep, slow kiss made your reunion even more beautiful. A kiss which was as sweet as honey. Josiah's hand slipped into your hair while you kiss and a lustful sigh came over your lips, as Josiah deepened this pleasure. Your delicate fingers clawed lightly into his white shirt while your torso pressed against his. When you slowly release the kiss, you opened your eyes, smiling at him. "Maybe we should go in. It's not raining there, my dear." You chuckle quietly as he said that and you followed Josiah when he took your hand. He led you into his house. It was a small, cozy house and you already loved it. Josiah looked at you worried. You were drenched from head to toe. You had to get out of these wet clothes otherwise, you would catch a cold. He walked up to you after closing the door and he cupped your cheeks, gently stroking your cold skin. "I'm going to prepare a bath for you, darling." With a satisfied sigh, you closed your eyes for a moment. "Thank you, Josiah." The tears that gathered in your eyes were visible and Josiah could only guess what you had to go through. "It's okay, darling. You're here now. He can't hurt you anymore. I will never let that happen." "I know", you whispered as your face leaned into his touch, which you enjoyed so much. You weren't used to so much tenderness. "Come, my dear." Josiah led you to his bedroom so you could take off your wet clothes. When you got there you already saw that Josiah kept his things in order. Everything had its place. The bedroom was decorated in blue and brown colors, which you found very pretty. While Josiah went to his closet to give you one of his clean and dry shirts, you couldn't wait to take this dress off. The fabric stuck to your skin, which felt very uncomfortable.

Unfortunately, you were not able to open the loops of your dress on your own, since they rested on your back. "Josiah? Can you help me please?" Josiah turned to you, saw the problem. "Of course." Josiah approached you and when you took your long, wet hair aside, the magician admired the delicate skin of your neck. Your skin was still a bit damp and fine water pearls made their way down your body. This was a very erotic sight which made him swallow nervously. His warm hand caressed your shoulder lovingly, which made you smile. You felt Josiah's breath on your neck when he started to open your dress. Every slightest touch, every breath of him that tickling your skin, aroused you deeply. When Josiah discovered the scar on your shoulder blade, he was speechless. A deep, long mark ran across your skin. He carefully ran his fingers over the scarred area and he asked himself why a man tortured a woman like this. "Did he do that?" Josiah took a deep breath since he was very angry with Henry. God, how he loathed this monster. It was time to pay him a visit. But that had to wait until tomorrow. Josiah didn't want to let you down now. You needed someone on your side. "Yes..." You wouldn't tell him the story behind your scar tonight. You were too exhausted and you just wanted to relax. It's been too long since you had a good night's sleep. Josiah leaned over to kiss your shoulder. While he was doing this, you felt how good this was for your soul. "I'm so sorry.", whispered Josiah and he put his strong arms around your stomach. You leaned against his chest, knowing that nobody could hurt you anymore. Josiah buried his face in the crook of your neck, closing his eyes to displace the images that were taking place in his head. Pictures that showed you desperate and crying. You turned in his arms to look at him. You wanted to see his beautiful eyes while he was holding you. When your eyes met, Josiah cupped your cheeks and he covered your face with tender kisses - every single touch made you smile. "I'll prepare the bathtub, darling. So you can undress in peace." "Sounds good.", you said. You were looking forward to a cozy, relaxing bath which would assure that you will fall asleep peacefully.

(¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´(¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´

"The tea is delicious, Josiah. Thank you." You and Josiah are sitting on the couch in the living room. You felt much better after bathing and this warm chamomile tea calmed your nervous stomach. You wore one of his white shirts which were too large for you, but you didn't mind. But on the contrary. It felt so good to be able to wear one of his shirts. The feeling of safety embraced your whole body. You didn't wear anything under this white shirt that was clearly visible, but it didn't disturb you. This was the last thing that bothered you at the moment. The fear that Henry would find you were bigger. Josiah saw the concerned look on your face, which he could understand. He knew you were afraid, but Josiah would never let Henry touch you again. When you didn't take your eyes off the cup you held between your hands, Josiah caressed your cheek tenderly and you looked up at him. "You should rest, my dear." "You too," you reply as you smiled at him. You hadn't noticed his disheveled hair earlier. "That suits you very well, Josiah." At first, Josiah didn't know what you meant, but when you reached out for his hair and stroked through his thick strains, he knew what you meant. A slight chuckle came over his lips. "You think so?" "Yes.", you replied with a smile. He looked much younger with his unkempt hair. Not that you didn't like his perfectly pomaded hair, but this was just more natural. He was such an attractive man.

"Y/N... what happened?" Josiah asked carefully. After all, he didn't want to put you in an uncomfortable situation, but he was restless. Josiah wanted to know what had happened to you in the past few hours. A long sigh escaped from your lips when Josiah asked you. The grip on your cup tightened as the images of the past few hours spooked through your head. "Henry was very drunk. And, uhm..." With a trembling voice, you tried to explain to Josiah what had happened and how you got here. Immediately, Josiah took your hand, stroking your knuckles with his thumb, knowing that this had to be a difficult situation for you and he wanted to show you that you weren´t alone. "It's okay, my dove. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked." But you shake your head gently, placing your cup on the table next to you before you continued talking to Josiah. "Josiah, this monster tortured me for years. And it had to end tonight." Josiah swallowed hard when he heard your words. The fact that you had been living with Henry for a long time was terrible. What did you have to go through? Josiah listened to you carefully while telling him your deepest secrets. "Gladly, that he was so drunk. Otherwise, I wouldn't be with you now. He would have beaten me up. Maybe raped too..." "Good lord! Y/N!" Josiah's stomach contracted painfully as you said that. "He threatened me, insulted me... called me a whore because I dared to oppose him. To tell him what a beast he is!" Suddenly, you burst into tears as you told Josiah about the things that had happened to you. "He sees me as an object, Josiah. I am nothing more to him than his property. And with his property, he had done what he wanted." It was painful to think about it. For years, you had hidden these negative feelings in you, never told anyone about the violence. "Why did I let that happen to me? I forgave him so many times, I thought he would change. I was so stupid." "Y/N, please! Don't say that!" He gently stroked your long hair as he looked at you with concern. "He is responsible for his actions! HE hurt you and I won´t allow you to blame yourself!" Henry was your tormentor and you were his victim. So this guy was to blame! Mistreating a woman was just shameful and evil. For such men, Josiah felt nothing but deepest disgust.

"He kept trying to tell me that it was my fault if he hurts me." You had come to a point where you tried to do everything right to prevent Henry from getting angry and hitting you. But in the end, it hadn't worked. The violence got worse until you realized you could never satisfy Henry. He had always found a reason to hurt you. Josiah pulled you carefully into his arms, as you hid your face in your hands while sobbing. Your fingers immediately clawed to his shirt as you snuggled into his chest. You had cried so many tears because of Henry, but this time you didn't have to cry alone. Josiah was with you and he gave you so much love. "You're not to blame for anything, darling.", Josiah whispered as he stroked your hair to calm you down. Soft kisses covered your temple, and it didn't take long for you to calm down. What was left now was terrible tiredness. You were no longer able to keep your eyes open, which Josiah noticed. The magician looked down at you, gently brushed the strands of hair from your face. Your cheeks were flushed from crying, and he noticed that your skin was so warm, as he caressed your cheek. Josiah looked at you for a while, caressing you as he thought about what he could do for you. How could he take that pain away from you? He would do anything to see you happy. But there was another problem. He hadn't told you the truth about his life yet. How would you react if you found out who he really was? This question has possessed Josiah's mind for days, but he knew that one day, he would have to tell you the truth. He was afraid, he was really afraid of it. Would you tolerate his business? Would you want to live with a man who finances his life with theft? With a member of the Van der Linde gang? Sighing softly, Josiah stroked through his black hair, and he closed his eyes while these worries almost prevented him from breathing. You were such a wonderful woman and he didn't want to lose you. "Oh, my love...", he whispered as he saw how peaceful you fell asleep in his arms.

Josiah would take care of Henry soon. It was time for a social call. Josiah would do it in his own way. And it would be better for Henry if he keeps his dirty hands off you. Otherwise, Josiah would tear his rotten heart out of his chest. But at the moment, it was more important to take care of you. Careful not to wake you up, Josiah took you in his arms to bring you to his bedroom. After all, a cozy bed was different from a couch. You should have a good rest and the tiredness also had overcome him. It had been a hell of a long day and Josiah couldn´t wait to lie down in soft sheets...

(¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´(¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´

The next morning you were still sleeping next to Josiah. Josiah assumed that you must be very exhausted, but he hadn't been able to sleep last night. The thought of what this monster had done to you hadn't let him rest. With a small sigh, Josiah stroked through his hair, knowing that it would take him a long time to process everything. But when he turned his face to you and saw you sleeping peacefully, he smiled. He was glad that you were with him now. Josiah ran his fingers gently across your cheek, before leaning forward to kiss your temple. A deep sigh escaped him as he did so. His eyes closed for a moment, ready to meet Henry. He wasn't going to be around with this bastard long, after all, you and Josiah had been robbed of enough time. Josiah quietly left the bed, took fresh clothes and went to the bathroom to freshen up. The whole thing took about twenty minutes. Afterward, he left the house, immediately made his way to Henry and Josiah couldn't wait to face this pig personally.

The way to your old home was within a ten-minute walk. Once there, Josiah was not surprised that the front door wasn´t locked. You had already told Josiah how drunk your husband had been and he was probably still lying around somewhere in the same condition. Josiah entered the house, looked around carefully. Who knew if this psychopath was not lurking behind a corner with a loaded weapon. Suddenly, Josiah heard a tormented moan coming from the living room. Josiah frowned, slowly moving towards the noise, already knowing what to see there: A sack of shit that melted into self-pity. Henry seemed to have already heard that someone had entered his house. However, he assumed that you had returned to him. "Y/N! Is that you?" Josiah didn't say a word, he just slowly approached his target. He wanted to hear, what this bastard had to say. But Henry's giggle was enough to provoke the magician. "You whore! I knew you would come back!" Josiah took a deep breath, his anger growing until he finally revealed himself. "I have to disappoint you! She won't come back!" Henry startled when he heard a male voice. Confused and exhausted from his nighttime booze, Henry was visibly having trouble getting up from his couch. When he saw Josiah, his eyes narrowed, not knowing what this guy was doing in his house. "Who are you?! Get the fuck out of here! NOW!" But Josiah wouldn't go. He had something to do, so he approached this man. Slowly and with a calm appeal. But it was clear to see that Josiah was very pissed off. However, this didn´t intimidate Henry. "You know I could kill you! For breaking into my house! Get out of here, boy!" Henry went up to Josiah, ready to throw him out of the house by himself, but he underestimated this man. Josiah grabbed Henry by the collar and threw him against the large glass cabinet in the corner of the room. The cabinet broke, pieces of glass dug in Henry's flesh. "What the...?! YOU SON OF A BITCH" Josiah didn't say anything, walked up to him, grabbed this monster again. It was time to pay him back his crimes. Josiah punched him in the face several times before Henry managed to push him away. However, the alcohol still worked very well in Henry, so he failed to hit Josiah. He just fell to the ground, growling deeply. "Damn son of a bitch! What do you want from me?!" "I want you to leave Y/N alone!" When Henry heard your name, he gave Josiah a venomous look. So you were with this man? Jealousy boiled up in Henry. "What does my wife have to do with you?! Where is she?!" "In a safe place, you piece of dirt!" Henry rose again to knock Josiah over this time, but he had no chance. Josiah grabbed his collar again and threw him across the sofa this time. The magician gasped hard, for this man was a heavy chunk. "I'm warning you, you bastard! Leave her alone, or I swear I'll kill you!" "She is my wife!" Shouted Henry, looking up at his rival with a dangerous glance. "I'll get this whore back!" Henry's words made Josiah crazy. How dare he insult you in this way?! "Pray that we'll never meet again!" With these last words to Henry, the magician left this godforsaken place. "You'll have to pay for that, you bastard! You and that WHORE!"

[mrsbeef]

Heart-shaped herb flower display build

When I’m in an emotional rut, I often find the best way to distract myself is to throw my entire soul into some kind of project, ideally one with a bit of external motivation. And fortunately for me, just such a project suddenly fell into my lap. Some friends of mine were having a party that was part birthday, part LGBT community celebration. It was also Black Panther-themed, and the event name was “Queerkanda”. My task: design and build a punch bowl display based on the glowing purple flower of the Wakandan heart-shaped herb, so that party guests might imbibe and obtain De Strenkt of De Bleck Pentha™. I was only too happy to take up the challenge.

This whole project took 7 days, though only about half this time was spent actually building anything. The rest of the time was spent conceptualising, sketching, finding references, and toting feels.

 Step 1: Site visit

I had a little walk around the area where my installation was going to be placed on the night. The spot was a hedge approximately 2.5 – 3 feet high. The bowl itself was going to be placed in the mouth of a large acrylic cylinder, which would then sit in the middle of the hedge, giving the impression of the flower rising out of the foliage. Sounded simple enough.

Step 2: PINspiration

A bit of research showed that the heart-shaped herb flower from the Black Panther movie is not bowl- or cup-shaped like a lotus or a poppy, but actually more trumpet-shaped, like a datura. In fact to me it looks like nothing so much as ruellia tuberosa, a blue-purple flower that grows wild all over the place here in Trinidad and goes by the amusing local name of ‘monkey gun’.

(JM Garg under Creative Commons licence)

Then I started to have a think about glowing flowers. Immediately I thought of those lamps made of silk (or occasionally wool) with solid black edges that look almost like stained glass once lit up. You know, these things:

So I assembled a Pinterest board with pictures of purple trumpet-shaped flowers like monkey gun and morning glory, and pictures of lamps like these from Etsy. I’d refer to these images for inspiration throughout the project.

Step 3: Preliminary sketching

Having seen the site and the acrylic base I’d be using, and having acquired some reference images, I was now able to start imagining how I might actually build this thing. And what better way to do that than to get a pencil and start drawing stuff?

The basic idea was to make five separate flower segments to then be combined into the full trumpet shape around the cylindrical base. They’d be made of purple fabric with black fabric borders, over a skeleton of large-gauge wire. Each of these wire-and-fabric segments would then be illuminated from the bottom by a carefully-angled blue LED bulb, with another LED to be placed right below the bowl. My initial idea was also to add some different tints and tones to the purple by using bleach solution and blue fabric dye, if I could get my hands on it. This was because

a) using paint would affect how the fabric would look under the LED light, and I didn’t want it becoming opaque; and

b) bleaching and dyeing the fabric would allow me to add colour variation without the risk of colours running.

Now I had a much more concrete idea of how to proceed, which meant it was time to go…

Step 4: SHOPPING!

This was going to be an outdoor installation, and currently in Trinidad it’s the rainy season. And if you don’t know what tropical rain is like… well, it can be pretty merciless. So the key phrase in my design philosophy here was “all seasons”. This is why I elected to make the flower out of fabric instead of paper; I needed something that could stand up to the elements if— heaven forbid— it had to, without falling apart.

Luckily, Trinidad is the land of Carnival, so I was able to get pretty much everything I needed in the same store. However, Trinidad is also the land of public holidays, so I had to wait out the long weekend before I could buy stuff. By the time I got everything it was already Wednesday.

For the base fabric I chose a purple candy floss, which is a translucent material that’s quite shiny on its own. While in the store I used my phone flashlight to test how the candy floss would react to light; I found it had a soft glowing, almost frosted look to it, which I liked.

For the borders I picked out a length of black suedette, which just devours light like nobody’s business, so I figured it would make a very nice contrast with the more luminous candy floss.

Finally, for the wire bones I got a coil of heavy 12-gauge aluminium wire, the kind that’s usually used in the construction of Carnival costumes or large puppets or any other kind of sculptural armature of a certain size. It was a good weight, sturdy, pliable but not excessively pliable. All good qualities, but boy, did this wire cause me some pain. More on that in a moment…

Step 5: Construction begins

Aluminium wire of a certain thickness, when repeatedly bent at the same point, becomes hot to the touch.

Just a cool bit of science I happened to notice.

How did I come to notice this, you ask? Well, you see, as the picture shows, the only wire cutters in my house strong enough to take on the task of cutting through semi-hard 12-gauge aluminium wire were old and rusty and dull and horrible. So I ended up using them as a vice, clamping down one end of the wire while repeatedly bending it back and forth until it just broke. That is how I had to cut every. Length. Of wire.

Raw ends of wire like that are also sharp, and will cut skin when they swing around. I managed to slice open my cuticles twice just trying to get the wire cut. Somehow I was able to keep my eyes intact, though I found myself really missing my safety glasses, which are still in Toronto.

I would shape a single length of wire with the rusty pliers and my hands, leaving the two open ends at the bottom corner. I then bound those ends together with masking tape to give myself a closed fan-like shape. This process I repeated five times. Then I cut the suedette into long strips about an inch wide, and starting at the tape-covered join for a bit of extra stability, I glued the fabric strip in place with a hot glue gun before proceeding to wrap the suedette around the wire, which gave me a heavy black outline.

Finally, I cut the purple candy floss into squares and used hot glue to glue three squares of candy floss to the back of each covered wire outline, before trimming away the excess with scissors. It was an arduous bloody process, and I kept having to take long breaks to be an emotional wreck of a human being, so it did take quite a while.

But one square of fabric would have been way too diaphanous, and in the end it actually turned out to be a pretty good decision to use three sheets, for reasons I will explain later.

Step 6: Lighting tests

LED lights are great because they don’t tend to give off a lot of heat. This is good for my purposes, because any light that gets too hot would melt everything I’d made. That’s why black light bulbs were not an option. Those things get DAMN hot. I know because I burned my fingers on one. Between that, the hot glue gun and the wires, I’m essentially impervious to pain at this point.

Now here’s the fun part.

I could not find blue LED lights no matter where I went. Originally I wanted battery-powered bulbs, but then I relaxed my standards to mains-powered rope lights. Nothing doing. Couldn’t even find them in white.

So I had a poke around at home. I found a large bag full of close to 100 tiny battery-powered LED mini-bulbs in bright white, left over from previous birthday parties here. They weren’t very powerful, but I used them to test out how light would look on the flower segments.

How many bulbs will give enough light? One bulb? Three? ELEVEN?

The number of bulbs needed to satisfactorily light one segment was just prohibitively high (not all the bulbs in the bag worked), so I needed to try something else. I eventually settled on a spool of bright white LED Christmas lights. Using the coil of leftover aluminium wire and two large books, I set up an improvised frame that I could use to arrange the flower segments around the light string.

Hmm, looking pretty damn good if I do say so myself. But there’s something missing.

Step 8: Last-minute detailing

It became apparent to me fairly early on that the candy floss seemed to be completely immune to bleach. I don’t know what I was doing wrong, but I decided to jettison that idea. I also couldn’t get my hands on any fabric dye. But I still wanted to add a bit more black fabric to the flower segments, so that the finished flower would more closely resemble the silk lamps that were my original inspiration. So I got out the sketchbook again and drew out a few ideas.

Eventually I settled on the pattern of thin points of graduating lengths in the lower right corner; I cut them out of suedette and arranged them on top of a segment with straight pins. However, there was a problem: the black suedette absorbed way too much light, and pretty seriously affected the way the light hit the candy floss.

Solution: apply the detailing to the *back* of the segment instead, allowing the dark strips to be visible on the other side while still being covered by a layer of light-diffusing candy floss. I applied the strips of suedette very, very gingerly, using only small dots of hot glue. This is where it became apparent that it had been smart to use three layers of candy floss: the glue adhered only to the first layer of candy floss, so I avoided having spots of dried glue showing up on the surface of the flower and getting thrown into horrible relief by the light. Unintentional win! Now time to go to sleep and await--

Step 9: Installation

I arrived at the location with about an hour and a half of sunlight remaining. Borrowing two extra pairs of hands, I bound the five segments tightly together around the cylindrical base using a length of 14-gauge soft wire, which felt like freaking silk in my hands after everything I’d been through. Then I used some good old-fashioned elbow-grease to shape each segment convincingly and help create the trumpet shape I’d been after. Finally I stuffed the remaining purple candy-floss into the cylinder and arranged the lights before sticking a bowl on top.

Then it began to positively piss down rain. Luckily the outlet where the lights were plugged in had been wrapped up with a piece of a black bin bag, and the whole flower being soaked now meant it wouldn’t catch on fire! Can’t burn this one, Killmonger.

The rain turned out to just be a passing rain (though a heavy, almost hurricane-like one), so once the spot of bad weather was over, all we had to do was wait for sundown.

And there it is!

Queerkanda forever <3

[almaasi]

you have witch powers? i've always been fascinated with "paranormal" stuff, including magic, so i was wondering if u could tell me stuff about it. is magic real? what kind of stuff did ur grandma do? are ghosts and spirits real too? what kinds of spells can witches cast? is it like supernatural? sorry if i'm asking a lot of questions i'm just so fascinated and curious. i didn't even know witches were like, legit until i read ur tags, i just thought that people back then said that so they had 1/2

2/2 a reason to burn a woman they didn’t like. ok now i’m rambling but in short, what can u tell me about witch stuff? i’m just asking cause i’m really curious :)

(about my tags on this)

#whenever phil gets out the tarot cards and pulls something scarily accurate i’m just like…. yes…. good…show us your witch powers…… #(my own experience with tarot? so reassuring. and calming. it’s like asking for a friend’s advice but that friend is your own brain.) #also my great grandmother was a witch by profession and i definitely got some of her magic #i have not yet learned to recognise a feeling when i feel it.. but when stuff happens later i’m like OH THAT WAS MY MYSTERIOUS FEELING #one of our sheep died a week or so ago.. and for two days straight i was outside in the middle of the night staring at the moon #and wondering why i felt death in the air #and the rain made me cry and it felt like release but i didn’t know why #and i immediately started worrying about our sheep but didn’t follow up to see if they were okay #then two days later my mother comes in and tells me one of our sheep died and two days ago had given my mother “the death look” #if you’ve never seen someone or something die… there’s this look they have that’s like a disgraced peacefulness and self-awareness #but basically i knew the sheep was gonna die without any reason for me to think that #and i need to learn to follow up on my instincts because they’re ever-present and i never know when it’s a psychic thing or random anxiety #disclaimer: IS IT ALL BULLSHIT who knows? but science doesn’t know a whole lot about a lot of things and this stuff is natural to me #so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

okay!! i was expecting someone to ask, so here goes. (in case anyone’s wondering, this is a personal post, and no, i’m not making this stuff up.) (feel free to reblog if you want. but it’s so goddamn long aaah)

first off, an opinion: whether or not you believe magic is real in this world is entirely related to whether or not it is real. at least in my books. magic/paramormal stuff can always be observed, but if you don’t believe it’s anything beyond coincidence or skilled trickery, it’s not gonna impact you.

i do believe in ghosts (or djinns, or something else human-like), but in my experience they don’t really do anything except exist in some other realm and occasionally become visible when i’m at my most lucid, at that point between waking and sleeping. most people (myself included) would say it’s just a hallucination. but like…. who’s to say it isn’t real, just in a way we as humans don’t yet understand? y’know?

the most interesting ghost sighting i’ve experienced was when i was fully awake, not hallucinating. i was in a car with my sister, my sister’s friend, and her mother - and we drove over a bridge, and i saw a fritzing semi-translucent black figure walking along the peak. i looked back and it was gone. it wasn’t scary, it was just really cool. i saw that with my own two eyes, i have zero doubt i saw it, and for that moment, it was there.

other times i’ve seen things pass through walls, or felt presences in the room that vanish when i look. i get deja vu maybe once a week. the ability comes and goes in phases, switched on and off whenever i tell someone about it. it’s like that part of my brain gets really shy and goes into hiding when it’s mentioned.

sometimes it can be pretty powerful. there’ve been moments when a deja vu begins, i remember it from a dream, fast-forward through the memory to remember what happens, and i get ahead of present time, so i predict what’s in front of me by about one to three seconds. usually it’s snippets of conversation, or my hands moving to complete an action, or words i’m typing. (let me tell you, it’s so freaking bizarre when you’re consciously typing, thinking about what you’re typing, and simultaneously remembering typing it before, and knowing what you’re about to type despite not yet knowing. and then seeing it happen. i think a lot of people reading this would be like “what?” but i know there’s someone out there who knows exactly what i mean)

for a long time in my teenage years i told people i’d see coloured figures, like auras without physical people, just hanging around out there in the world, but due to health issues a lot of my teenage memories are gone, and the only memory i have of that stuff is the recollection of me telling people about it, and remembering it while telling people. it’s really weird. i sometimes think maybe i made that up?? but i don’t understand why i’d do that when i do actually see other things sometimes.

once, my family visited this old historic building, and i remember seeing a woman in a maid’s outfit duck through a doorway. but she wasn’t actually there. so. idk.

my great-grandmother (or great-great grandmother?) on my mother’s side used to sell love spells to the people in her Indian village. my mother told me about it when i was little. my [great] great grandmother would write a spell on parchment, and the client had to go home and burn it in their fire. and she would curse people, in exchange for payment. that’s all i know about that. but my grandmother (also on my mother’s side) used to have some kind of power, i never got to ask about it while she was still alive. (she was an awesome woman. one of the first women in her country and generation to go to university.)

personally, having been raised as a muslim, i always felt really disconnected from the culture and practices of the religion, even though i believe in the supernatural aspects of it right down to my core. that’s despite my ultimate acknowledgement of facts being deeply rooted in hard science. recently (like, in the past few months) i’ve started to rediscover my faith - directly following on from a quiet interest in the pinterest & instagram aesthetics of paganism and new age magic, which as a concept i was never really sure about. i just really liked how it looked. basically, it clicked in my brain that islamic prayers could, in essence, just be spells. you gotta take everything with a grain of salt. they might not work. but that’s the beauty of it.

a few weeks ago i stumbled across a prayer on tumblr, and read its intended purpose: “Allah will grant whoever recites this seven times in the morning or evening whatever he desires from this world or the next”.

and… i started to think, maybe the purpose is not to actually do that. nothing ought to be a get-out-of-jail-free/do-this-and-your-life-is-made type thing. maybe the purpose is to make you believe nothing can go wrong. and that every bad thing that happens–? it happens so that you can learn from it. and eventually, after many things change, you realise what you desire was not the thing you thought you desired. (idk how to explain that. an example from my life: i really wanted to be a veterinarian growing up. then i got sick, dropped out of school. and now i’m a writer. i want to be a writer more than i ever wanted to be a vet. i had to get sick and my life had to fall apart before i could discover that. writing was never something i’d have considered before.)

my point is, if you believe everything that happens to you will ultimately be a good thing, bad things don’t hurt so much.

and if you take something as a sign, it’s a sign. it’s just your own brain taking hints from the world around you and using them to conjure up a decision. if you wanna believe it’s magic, it is.

personally i like protection prayers/spells and just…generally positive ones. i say prayers for sick friends, people who i see on my tumblr dash who are having a bad time, and if i see or hear about disasters or worldwide events. i’m not expecting it to have a visible impact, but like.. what’s the harm? at the very least it makes me feel like i did something if i don’t have money to give, or i can’t be there with a friend, or the world is falling apart and i’m helpless. praying or saying a spell is just hoping, really, really hard. if some greater being is out there, listening? cool. (but what if god doesn’t wanna do anything? maybe it’s like my cupcake theory. god puts the ingredients in a baking tray, shoves it in the oven, forgets about it. the universe rises as a cupcake. god made it. but the universe is doing its own damn thing.)

regarding tarot cards: again, it’s self-reflection. you can believe answers come from outside influences, but it’s easily just as much about interpreting generic advice and making it mean something to you. but personally i’ve drawn random cards, and known that no other card in the deck would’ve been as relevant at that moment. i’ve used tarot cards to determine the endings for my stories, and coincidentally pulled cards that directly represent my title characters.

one time i was thinking about my fic “The Moonlighter and the Magician” and the card i pulled first was The Magician. and i was like gee thanks tarot cards that’s helpful. (but actually? it meant those cards were on the same wavelength as me. think about it. 78 cards, there’s a one in 78 chance i pull that one on my first try.)

apart from my wonky first-ever tarot readings with the Rider-Waite travel-size tarot deck (which belonged to my mother), i’ve never pulled anything that didn’t eventually make sense. i use The Wild Unknown cards now, i relate to them so much more. plus they’re mine, not borrowed or abandoned for years, which probably helps. (buying those cards was the most money i ever spent on anything. i don’t regret it.)

is any of this like the show ‘supernatural’? not really. the closest i can say my experiences have come to the show would be the episode “faith”. just, the whole episode. it doesn’t matter if it’s the real deal, so long as it works. and boy, does it work for me. and a lot of other people.

like i said, all the spirit-like entities i’ve encountered have been perfectly benign. no monsters, except things i’m pretty sure are nightmares.

but on that note, i take a lot of things to help me sleep. if i didn’t, i’d be waking up screaming night and day (i hit whistle register while screaming, once). i see faces in the dark and creatures in my bedroom, even when my eyes are closed and i’m awake. i sleep with a light on, and i prefer to sleep in the day. i cannot even deal with the presences in my room.

for that matter, my room is definitely the most presence-heavy room in the house. now, although it’s obviously just in a drafty area, i feel the cold spots. all. the. time. i’m feeling one right now as i type this. the door and window are both closed. the heater is always on. the draft comes from the same corner of the ceiling my cat stares at when she’s “staring into space”. there’s definitely something there, but it legit doesn’t bother me. it watches me get dressed sometimes, but it’s not weird about it. like i said, benign.

i feel energy everywhere i go. i can’t stay in my family’s open plan living room comfortably for more than a few minutes, because that room is filled with people and pets coming and going all freaking day, and even when it’s empty, it’s so LOUD. there’s vibrations and voices coming out of the walls, because the house absorbs it all. as a generally tired person, that room exhausts me. i can only stay there if i have social energy. (yes, even an empty room.)

i am so, so sensitive to people’s moods and the energy they let out (to the point where i burst out screaming if i see a negative microexpression during a personal conversation). i find phone calls very difficult, not just because of social anxiety, but because i can’t sense energy as easily as i want to, and is natural for me. skype calls aren’t the same as being there in person. a lot of this could also be autism-related, but nearly everything about me is autism-related, because i’m autistic. go figure.

one time, the day i had my first period, i passed out in a maths exam. all the other times in my life, i’ve seen black or maybe red when i passed out, but this time it was a striking cobalt blue. and i heard SO MANY VOICES, i thought the whole classroom was full of people shouting. my P.E. teacher was observing that exam, she carried me out of the room and lay me on the floor outside. i told her about the voices, she looked at me in confusion and said “there were no voices?? the whole room was silent for the exam.” obviously that was a weird day, but given the amount of times i’ve lost conciousness in my life, before and after that day, i know the warm muggy feeling of slipping away, and i guarantee that one was just a little bit not-normal.

my cat Wilson follows me everywhere. if you’ve ever seen a picture of a witch and her familiar, that’s me and Wilson. she leaves the house if i leave, and she’ll walk down the road beside me to make sure i stay safe. she only lets me leave completely if i go in a car, but even then, she tries to come too. i know what she says when she talks. she speaks in words for me. it translates naturally in my head without a thinking process.

there was this one time when i was about 15 my parents took me to an after-hours medical centre because apparently i was ~speaking in tongues~ or whatever. i don’t remember it, i remember ‘waking up’ with a doctor’s flashlight in my eyes, crying, then holding my sister’s hand as we looked at the fish in the fishtank afterwards. i can’t say how legit that is because i just.. don’t remember it.

one time as a kid, i am absolutely sure i was possessed for about 30 seconds. i was walking down the street on a balmy English afternoon, pine needles scattered underfoot, with my elderly grandmother (paternal), my grandfather, and my sister. i must’ve been 6 or 7? and a streak of evil just bolted through me. and i stuck out my foot and my grandmother fell flat on her face. my grandfather tried to help her up, a car driving by pulled up and asked if they needed help, grandfather said no, and got her back to her feet. i can’t remember if i felt remorse. i think i just knew instinctively that it wasn’t me who did it. but like.. i wasn’t just A Nice Kid, okay, i was The Nicest Kid. i just don’t do things like that. ever. especially not to a kind and generous grandmother who i love so very dearly. i never had before, and i never have since. that’s the single most evil thing i’ve ever done in my life and it came out of nowhere. being more aware now, i think it was a djinn (aka a demon in christian beliefs, i think). they’re known for being mischievous. (my grandmother was fine, by the way. this is the first time i’ve told anyone about this.) now i think about it, i remember cobalt blue behind my eyes then, too.

whoops, this is a really long post now. but uh… basically, i’ve just always been open to feeling these things, and believing in what i sense for myself, without subscribing to whether or not the science has been done yet. in fact, i think i’m open to it because i experienced the same stuff when i was young. the energy i feel is very much real to me, completely tangible. i’ve never been able to see auras, but i feel them on some people. i think just being open to feeling something makes it more likely to come to you. i try not to ignore my instincts (because they’re always right. always.) but i find it’s super hard to distinguish between anxiety (which i feel often) and magical ability (which is far less commonly felt). also sometimes the instinct is so faint it doesn’t even become a passing thought, just a blur of something i half-considered. but in hindsight i realise what it ought to have been, had i paid proper attention.

i can comfortably manage to go outside in bare feet, shut my eyes and let the moonlight do its thing. it has an immensely powerful energy, i always feel cleaner inside when i go back in. (my cat Wilson sometimes asks me to go outside with her when there’s a full moon. almost every night, especially on warm nights, but even freezing ones, we can just stand out there for an hour together. watching the moon set is transcendent. far more so than a sunset.)

right now, due to years of bad health, i have to force some natural abilities away (like the nightmares) because they’re too much for me to handle. i think as i recover, over time it’ll be easier for me to accept that stuff back into my life.

oh, one more thing, regarding my health - i have celiac disease, which has kept me essentially bedridden for the last 7+ years - WHICH BY THE WAY, my family spent literally 9 years trying to diagnose. my doctor kept doing an anaemia test, telling me there was nothing wrong with me and sending me back to school. i saw various specialists, herbalists, a naturopath, physiotherapists, cardiologists, had an MRI scan, saw family counsellors, school counsellors, a hypnotist, etc etc - basically consulted every medical professional under the sun when a simple blood test would’ve done it. stupid misogynistic doctor who thinks all teenage girls fake it to get out of school.

but one thing we did do was visit a psychic, who told me i had something called a candida. my dad, a sceptic and nonbeliever, googled it and said it was “some kind of magical thing in the gut”, and was therefore bullshit, so we continued the search for a diagnosis. years later - years - after a change of doctor (who i chose because i got a good vibe from her picture) we find out it’s celiac disease, a disease of the gut. of the hundreds of people we saw, the only ones to even pinpoint the right body part were the psychics. i googled candida just now and guess what? literally celiac disease. this woman diagnosed me with celiac disease by kneeling at my feet, holding my hand, and shutting her eyes for 30 seconds.

for the record, slightly off topic, i know very few men in real life, and this is what the men in my life have been. my doctor, dismissing me as a liar because i was a teenage girl. and my father, dismissing my declining health as “not trying hard enough”, even now, more than a year after i was diagnosed by a doctor. i think this is why i take refuge with male fictional characters. they’re better. i want them to be soft and understanding like the men i’ve never known.

anyway, this is the part of my life’s story i never really pieced together until right now. it’s a lot, more than i expected. i happily call myself a witch. most of my magic goes into my stories, and i think a lot of people who read them feel it, even if they translate it as passion or love or good vibes or something. the amazing comments i get would speak to that. i love the energy i get from comments, because it does come through in typed words, even if it’s much fainter than seeing people face-to-face. some comments just hit me with waves of goodness, even if the words themselves aren’t so powerful. so i really appreciate that stuff. it’s good stuff.

yep. that’s all. i hope this satisfies your curiosity, anon!!!

[too-much-coffee-not-enough-sleep]

It’s Too Early for This (Pt.II)

Pairing: Dean x reader

Summary: College AU. The reader’s roommate drags her to a party and then disappears into the crowd within five minutes of their arrival. An irritated and bored reader, who didn’t even want to be at the party in the first place, runs into that insufferable yet cute boy Dean from this morning’s psych lecture. The reader starts ranting to Dean about how annoyed she is and how boring the party is, unaware that Dean himself is the one hosting the party. Inspired by a post found on Pinterest. 

Word Count: 1486

Warnings: language, steamy makeout session at the end

You stormed into your dorm room and slammed the door with a frustrated shriek. “Damn girl, what’s got your panties in such a twist?” your roommate asked. “I’m tired and annoyed and people are assholes!” you snapped. After this morning’s psych lecture, your day had only gotten worse; you were so distracted by the interaction with Dean that you accidentally ran into someone on the way to your biology lab and spilled your coffee all over your favorite shirt, which resulted in you being late and missing the lab’s introductory lecture. Then you didn’t have time to get another coffee before your history class in the afternoon, so you fell asleep and the professor called you out on it. All this because of stupid Dean and his stupid leather jacket and his stupid green eyes. 

“Long day, huh?” your roommate asked as you fell onto your bed with an overdramatic sigh. “You have no fucking idea. First of all, this guy shows up late to my psych lecture, hungover as hell and totally unprepared for class. Then he won’t stop talking to me, calling me sweetheart and shit. And after class, on my way to Bio, -” “Woah woah woah, back up to the part about the cute guy calling you sweetheart, your friend said. “What did he look like? Was he cute?” she asked. You scowled at her. “I didn’t really pay attention to whether or not he was cute.” Lies. Dean was one of the most attractive guys you’d ever met. Your roommate smirked. “You’re blushing. He had a leather jacket, didn’t he? You’re a sucker for a leather jacket.” You started stuttering. “Ah, well, um, yeah he did, but thats besides the point!” Your roommate rolled her eyes. “Whatever. On to more important things! There’s a party tonight and I want you to go with me.” “Oh, I don’t know,” you said. “I’m not really a party person.” “Oh come on,” your roommate whined. “We’re in college, we have to go out! And you work way too hard, you deserve a break. Maybe you’ll meet cute leather jacket boy.” You got off your bed and stood there, deliberating your roommate’s words. You hated parties. They involved loud music that you hated, drunk people getting it on, and all too often, obnoxious jackasses like Dean Winchester. “Pleaseee? Who knows what shit I’ll get up to? You know how irresponsible I am - you’re like, eighty percent of my impulse control.” “Appealing to my mom friend instincts,” you grumbled. “Not cool.” “So you’ll go?” You took a deep breath. “Fine, okay, I’ll go.” Your roommate clapped her hands and squealed excitedly. “Thank you!  I know the person hosting the party, well, I know of him, and...” You tuned her out, as you had done many times before, knowing you would probably come to regret this decision. 

A few hours laters, you were reminded why you didn’t go out often. It was less than ten minutes into the party and you bored out of your goddamn mind. Your friend had already abandoned you after spotting a guy she had been texting (so much for besties before testes) and the music they were playing was terrible. You let out a sigh as you wound your way through the crowd of people, trying to find a quiet place you could drink some water and text your friend to check in. Someone tapped you on the shoulder and you whirled around, hoping it was your roommate, only to be disappointed when you realized it was Dean. “Oh,” you said, visibly deflating. “It’s you.” He raised his eyebrows. “Somebody’s clearly not having a good time.” You started to stomp away, Dean following closely behind you. “Why would I being having a good time?” you asked. “This party is boring as fuck. The music’s terrible, it’s way too crowded, and my friend abandoned me to go talk to some guy.” Dean laughed. “What?” you snapped. “You’re kind of cute when you’re mad.” “I’m fucking adorable,” you grumbled as you entered the kitchen, which by some miracle, was quiet and empty. 

“So why are you here if you’re having such a bad time?” Dean asked as you rummaged through your bag, looking for your phone. “My friend kind of begged me to come, because she apparently needs me to keep her from making shitty decisions, but this only works if we fucking stick together. But no, I turn my head for one fucking second and she runs off after some guy.” You finally managed to pull your phone out of the endless black hole that is your purse, only to send a pack of gum, a mini first aid kit, and a pair of earphones flying through the air. They hit the floor, landing directly next to Dean. “You’re a sophomore, right?” he asks as he leans over and picks them up. “Yeah, why?” “Just wondering how you got into the party. Its mostly a bunch of seniors here,” he said as he handed you the items from your purse. “Oh. Well, apparently, my friend knows someone who knows someone who knows the guy hosting the party. She told me he throws great parties, which is either a lie or a mistake, because this party is a complete shit show.” You stuffed everything back into your purse and texted your friend, wondering where the hell she was. 

Y/N: Where are you?? I’m stuck in the kitchen with the asshole from my psych lecture.

Your friend: take his face and smush it against yours.

Your friend: kiss the fuck out of him. Or better yet, just fuck him.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, trying to decided if you should be amused or worried. You went with worried; your friend was only ever this blunt and foul mouthed after she’d had a few drinks. “Everything okay?” Dean asked. You opened your mouth, but was interrupted by the sound of your friend entering the kitchen. “Oh thank God, I was getting worried. Where’s Ryan, or whatever his name was?” you asked. Your friend swayed slightly, and you grabbed her to keep her from falling over. “He’s a jerk who already has a girlfriend,” your friend said as she waved her hand dismissively. “Okay, I think its time go. You can tell me all about this asshole over a bottle of water and a carton of Ben and Jerry’s.” You turned to leave, not bothering to say goodbye to Dean. “Wait, no” your friend protested.  “How do you know Dean?” You stopped in your path. “What? We have psych together. How do you know Dean?” “He’s the one hosting the party.” You glared at Dean. “Why didn’t you say anything?” “You didn’t ask,” he said with a smirk. Damn, that smirk. It took everything you had to keep yourself from rapidly fanning the air. A sudden thump distracted you from your thoughts and the both of you turned to see your friend sitting on the floor. “I’m gonna take a nap.” “Not here you’re not,” you said as you leaned over and tried to pick her up. Dean grabbed both of your friend’s arms and picked her up effortlessly. “Let me walk to your car,” Dean said, and you found yourself nodding, too tired to protest.

After loading your now fast asleep friend into the back seat of your car, you turned to Dean with a sigh. “Thanks for your help. And I’m sorry for shitting on your party.” “No you’re not,” he said. “If you’d known I was hosting, you would've either not shown up or shown up to relentlessly mock it. But I know how you can make it up to me.” “Oh?” you asked, somewhat breathlessly, as Dean got closer and closer. All you could concentrate on were his lips. “How?” Dean leaned in close and you found yourself being kissed like never before. You kissed him back and wrapped your legs around his waist as he pushed you back against the hood of your car. His lips traveled down your neck, kissing every inch of your skin, and you let out a moan. Dean’s hands gripped your ass and you wrapped your legs tighter around him as he returned to kissing your lips. “Oi! You two! Get a room, for the love of God! When I told you to fuck him, Y/N, I didn’t mean on top of the damn car” your roommate shouted from inside your car. You and Dean broke apart. In the heat of the moment, you had totally forgotten about her. Whoops. Dean ignored your friend’s comment, seemingly unperturbed. “That is how you can make it up to me.” Goddamn. Goddamn. You wanted to keep kissing him. “See you in class, Y/N,” Dean said with a wink. You admired his ass as he turned and walked back towards the party. Maybe this semester wouldn’t be so bad after all...

A/N: this ended up being longer than I meant it to be, but whatever.