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kingpreciouswrld · 11 months ago

Note

If you’re still accepting Miranda Priestly x Reader fic ideas i’ve got one!

Miranda and Reader have been married or a long time now secretly of course to prevent a media mishap. The reader is a stylist who sometimes stops to visit and help with a showcase, maybe she comes in casually to have lunch with Miranda and gets stopped by Andrea and Emily who try to get her to leave as they don’t know her(only Nigel does) and they’re both trying to tell Emily and Andrea that she’s allowed back there without exposing the marriage, eventually Miranda just comes out and asks why they’re touching her wife ( or something of the sort???) feel free to branch from this

ask and ye shall receive!

I hope you like it! It's been a while since I've written for anyone but myself :3

Nobody's Gonna Know

It’s an unusually busy day in your office. The clothes you’ve ordered haven’t arrived yet and your workers seem to not know how to conduct themselves in a manner without the very needed materials. You looked on through the glass doors as your workers ran around like headless chickens, trying to come up with something to show you before you needed to leave.

As a well-known stylist, it was your job to come up with new and creative or out-of-the-box looks to those who paid for your help. You mainly helped with showcases that Runway Magazine held and the clothes you needed today were actually from Runway Magazine. Through the grapevine you’ve heard that their workers were just as clueless as yours when it came to the clothes you were seeking.

As you sat in your little office, you thought back to when you first started out. You were a nobody, hell you weren’t even a New York local. No, you came from a small town in the middle of nowhere. Having nothing to your name, you first tried making it in California. You gained some traction which led you to move to New York. At first you were against it. You didn’t like big cities all that much, it just wasn’t your scene but you knew that your talent and job called for being around big things.

A year into the job, you attended a charity event where you were introduced to the one and only, Miranda Priestly. It was hard to read the woman at first but you saw it in her eyes, she liked you or at least, your work. That’s how it all started. You started to come and do jobs at Runway Magazine while also taking some jobs on the side. Not to mention the growing relationship between you and the editor which also included the lives of her rambunctious daughters and her slobbery saint bernard.

3 years passed and Miranda and you kept things underwraps. Heaven knows you’d have a field day for Page Six and their stinging words, so you have kept your relationship from everyone. Well, everyone except those closest to you.

Sighing, you looked at the clock. It was almost lunch time and Miranda didn’t like to be kept waiting.

You grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, “Annie, reschedule the runthrough until this afternoon. I’m sure Runway will do the same due to the circumstances with its clothing gone missing. I’m going out for lunch.” Your assistant nodded and frantically went to work at her computer as you passed her.

Making your way to Elias Clarke, you weaved through the small crowds before entering the building– blending in with the clackers around you. No one knew about your relationship with the fashion queen so you easily blended with crowds and you loved it. No one bothered you.

Until they did.

You had made your way up to Runway’s floors when you passed the front desk and made your way towards Miranda’s inner sanctum. You’ve been to Runway multiple times so no one blinked an eye as you strolled down the halls.

Reaching the outer office of Miranda’s, you haven’t intended to actually be stopped by her assistants.

Andy was the first to notice you as Emily was out.

“Oh! Y/n! I’m sorry but Miranda is in a meeting so you wouldn’t be able to go in right away.”

You looked at the clock above the assistant’s desk. 11:56 am. Knowing your wife, you knew she wouldn’t mind if you interrupted her work. She never minded when you did it at home, so why would her workplace be different?

“Trust me, I think Miranda wouldn’t mind Andy. So I’m just gonna…”

You tried to step past the young woman but Andy just stepped in front of you. The assistant’s eyes widened as you tried to step past her again but she blocked your way through.

There was only so much you could do so you sighed as you looked back at the clock.

11:58 am.

This time, you tried to listen for the soft voices coming from your wife’s office. There were only two that you could pick up on. One was, of course, Miranda’s but the other was a man’s voice. Somewhat…feminine? But not too feminine.

“Is it just Nigel and Miranda in there?”

As you tried stepping past the brunette, again she blocked your path.

“Look Y/n, if you keep this up I’m going to have to call security.”

At this time, Emily walked in and took in the scene in front of her, “Andrea? What’s going on here?”

As Andy was distracted, you tried to step past her again but only to be grabbed by the arm and pulled back, away from Miranda’s office door, “Woah! Okay, no touchy, alright? These cost more than your paycheck alright?”

Emily huffed and rolled her eyes but didn’t release you. Andy looked like she was nervous about losing her job. She knew you were stubborn and wouldn’t stop until you were able to see Miranda.

“Since you already have her, escort her to the lobby Em. She’s been trying to break into Miranda’s office. “ ‘Break into’? I’m just trying to see my– ugh, look, I’ll just wait alright? You guys don’t need to be so touchy about–”

Before you could finish your sentence, the brit was already moving towards the front desk area. You immediately stood your ground so the redhead would have a harder time moving you. You’d show them stubborn.

As the three of you were arguing and you were still struggling against Emily’s hold– you didn’t know how the redhead was this strong– you three failed to notice Miranda’s office door open.

“Look, if you let me go, i’ll make sure you still have your job at the end of the day, alright?”

Emily scoffed, “As if you’re so important here, you’re just a small town no one who just happened to meet Miranda and kiss her ass all the way till–”

“Is there a reason you’re restraining my wife?”

Both assistant’s straightened their posture at the cool voice before they realized what she said.

Emily gaped, looking like a fish out of water while Andy looked more afraid of losing her job this time.

Miranda’s eyes were still where Emily had a grip on you and she glared at the redhead, “Let. Go. Emily.”

The brit let your arm go as if your arm burned her and you grumbled as you rubbed your arm, trying to soothe the lingering pain of Emily’s grip. Behind the editor, Nigel looked as if he was about to burst out laughing at the girls’ faces.

“Now, how about some lunch my love?”

#miranda priestly x reader #miranda priestly #tdwp

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peppymintdreams · 12 days ago

Text

Sakuverse Masterlist

Every ZSakuVA fanfic i've written (except for Sakuverse Reimagined Twist of Fate and Headcanon) is here,

Angst: 🔥 Fluff: ☁️ NSFW: 🌶️ Yandere: 🔪 AU:🌎

Alex:

Andrew Marston:

Disobedient 🌶️

The First Morning After ☁️

A Resurfacing Nightmare 🔥

You Broke Me Now We Drift Away 🔥

Soft Keys ☁️

A Swan's Cry 🔥

Haunting Dreams 🔥

Shattered Reflections 🔥

The Breaking Point 🔥☁️

A Battle Of Wills 🔥🌶️

An Unwritten Chapter 🔥☁️

Winding Roads ☁️

Not In Love 🔥

A Waltz Under Glass and Stars ☁️

My Darling ☁️

After The Fight 🔥

Forever and Always 🔥☁️

Unyielding Obsession 🔪

I Want to Protect You 🔥

Whispers in The Highways 🔥

You're My Daydream ☁️

Show Me How ☁️

A Photograph Worth a Thousand Memories☁️

Twin Troubles 🔥

Asirel:

Cevyk:

Dontis:

Elias:

Eye Understand You ☁️

Secret Weapon☁️

Hey Sexy Boy ☁️

Hot and Sweaty.... Ramen ☁️🌶️

Sick and Tired of You ☁️

Shower With You ☁️

A Catty Man 🔥

You a Sickie Baby ☁️

Memories We Can't Recall 🔥

Gifts ☁️

Crumbling Dreams 🔥

Just Me and My Thoughts ☁️

A Quiet Moment

A Quiet Escape

Marked Territory

Caged Affection

Green-Eyed Trouble

Until You Wake

Caught In The Act

Close Enough

Unexpected Trouble

Beach Buddies

Wines Affect

Mario Party Madness

The Tears of a Grown Man

Sunset Moonrise

“[Secret Agent Barista]”

Bratty Behavior

Tears in the Storm

Portrait of Disaster

Namaste or Not

Riding Into The Sunset

Isaac Rhoades:

Sing Sweet Nightingale 🔪

Morning Love ☁️

Sick and Pickled ☁️

The Dawn in the First Light ☁️

Crime and Idiocracy ☁️

Broken Promises🔥☁️

Soft interruptions☁️

Lines Crossed🔥☁️

Movie Night☁️

Anxious🔥☁️

A Work of Art From God ☁️🌶️

Insomnia Who? ☁️

Burn It ☁️

Panik....Kalm....PANIK 🔥☁️

Begone Thot🔥🌶️

Trust 🔥☁️

I'm Tired of this Grandpa 🔥☁️

So Purty ☁️

Waiting for You 🔥

Who did This 🔥🔪

Forgotten Flames 🔥☁️

Thinking ☁️

Furry Little Friends ☁️

Dress Code 🔥🌶️

You Signed the Contract

Good morning to You too…

The Gifts of Orchids

Pieces of My Heart

Until I’m Home Again

Sweet Moments

Steps to the Heart

Blossoms in His Arms

Shadows of The Past

Jonah:

Kayson Mayer:

Luca Pearce:

Wicked 🌎🔥

Rainey Nights New Beginnings 🌎☁️

The Heart Knows no Boundaries🔥☁️

You Fit Perfectly With Me🔥☁️

Mentally Not There🔥

The Straw that Breaks the Bunny's back🔥

Trip Down Memory Lane☁️

I Don't Want you to Leave☁️

Everybody get in the fuckin holiday spirit☁️

Read 5:38 Pm☁️

You're My everything i'm Glad your here☁️

Wrong Side of Bed🔥☁️

Fading🌎🔥

Make a Wish with Me☁️

Obsessed ☁️

Late night Snack ☁️

Call Me ☁️

Obsessed with You Too ☁️

Sleepy Cuddles ☁️

Not Today ☁️

My Husband ☁️

A Cozy Night Out

Queen of Hearts

Tsundere Tendencies

Wisdom Tooth Woes

Daddy’s Little Princess

Home…

Wet Dreams

Matias:

Niall:

Rowan:

Xanthus Claiborne:

Periods ☁️

Time With You ☁️

Bound by Shadows

The Enchanted Night

The Moonlit Pact

Midnight Whispers

A Warm Embrace

The Eternal Gallery

Before the Dawn

A Vampire’s Veil of Shadows Ball

Feeding

A Gift in Ink

A Gem for Love

Eyes on Me

A Vampiric Makeover

Mortal Beauty

Immortal Beauty

Zaros Kymen Atha'lin:

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0bticeo · 6 months ago

Text

elias bouchard | bloodied hands may mend the flesh

summary:

“i’m fine, elias.”

“you pulled your stitches two streets after coming out of the hospital.”

“yes, because you wanted to see me.”

tw: blood, hurt/comfort, elias being somewhat manipulative, one (1) kiss, reader's french and done with life, non graphic descriptions of stitching up wounds, the mummy returns (2001) references bc why not.

wc. 1.3k

silence.

you stand in elias bouchard’s office, heeled boots digging uncomfortably in a decadently expensive carpet. persian. a deep green.

tick; tack.

you’re watched.

before you is a lone silhouette sitting at his desk, framed by an oval window. it stretches and stretches in the shape of an eye and stares at you.

hello, Big Brother.

you stare back.

tick; tack.

you breathe in.

tick; tack.

your fist unclenches, fingers smoothing out the pleats of your skirt. you wince at the small motion. breathing's hard. huh.

elias barely acknowledges you, fountain pen scribbling away in neat, impeccable cursive on what you know is his precious scheduling. you find yourself detailing him. taking him in, tracing his features with a tired gaze.

behold, the head of the magnus institute, with his perfect posture and crisp black suit.

behold, the olive skin and long, slender fingers fishing a sheet of paper out of a neat little pile on his side.

behold, he’s staring back at you, green-grey eyes sharp behind his glasses.

“i was wondering when you’d come back.”

you scoff.

“apologies, i was busy rescuing my godson from being kidnapped by a mummy-ressurrecting cult.”

“i know.”

you consider punching him. him and his stupidly perfect face. you wonder how you’d go at it. maybe you’d slam your knuckles against the sharp edge of his jawline, where he’s defined the contours of his goatee. maybe you’d go for the gut. see if he’s as toned as you think he is.

“your thoughts are loud today.”

“don’t turn your gaze upon me if it bothers you that much.”

a beat. he has set aside his fountain pen. a mont blanc. how cliché. he’s watching you, hands neatly folded in front of him. waiting.

“well?”

you sigh. there’s a headache building behind your poor, poor ocular globes, and by the looks of it, your cerebrum might decide to liquefy and run down your ear.

“why am i here, if you already Know where i’ve been?”

silence. you want to scream. you might be, actually. a long, low, guttural thing, exhaustion dripping down its jagged edges.

as it is, you know you’re silent, so it dies down in your throat and scrapes your tongue bloody. you stay still. you stay still, and your nails dig in your palms, mind reeling.

you’re feeling dizzy. why are you feeling dizzy?

you startle.

a wide palm has settled on your shoulder, broad and comforting. you haven’t seen him move. he’s standing in front of you, something like concern flashing in his depthless eyes. there’s a pinprick pressure at the back of your neck, bearing down on your senses.

“were you hurt?”

“i don’t- what?”

“miss leblanc. were you hurt?”

you open your mouth when his hand comes up to cradle your head and his thumb presses against your temple, hard, and he Sees.

(you, stepping out in the dark, cigarette a molten dot in the cold london night. something flickering in the corner of your eye. metal slamming upon your skull.

hands closing on your throat, old, old, older than the sands surrounding you, dirty, chipped nails scraping the skin, scraping and scraping until you bled, until you slammed your torch upon an eyeless skull.

a khopesh slicing the air, the fabric of your shirt, your flesh.

a temple rising from aeons of sands, glorious, glorious until it collapses, until you have to run-)

“reckless, reckless you,” he tuts.

you look up at him, leaning in his touch, his palm warm, so warm and safe. his eyes are narrowed, and in the velvet quiet of the sunset, they seem to glow a soft green.

“i’m fine, elias.”

“you pulled your stitches two streets after coming out of the hospital.”

“yes, because you wanted to see me.”

a beat. then, he chuckles, the sound deep and warm, melting over your ears. you feel the rumble of it against your chest and realize with a start that you’re pressed up against him, his arm wrapped around your waist to support you.

he’s cradling you against the warmth of him, and you don’t know when your vision started to blur at the edges to the point you can only see him.

“’you give me no choice but to stitch you up myself.”

“you don’t need-”

“and you don’t want to go back to that hospital lest they ask questions.”

“fine.”

you settle on his desk, shuffling around so that you don’t mess up his neatly organized workspace. your knuckles dig in the wood, whirling fibers printing themselves in the pad of your fingertips.

breathing hurts, actually. the painkillers must be wearing off. you feel a trickle of blood sliding down your side. ah, there goes your white shirt. blood’s a pain to clean up, so it’s pretty much ruined.

shuffling. elias is behind his desk, palm pressing down on a spreadsheet a few words away from your hand as he opens a drawer. you can feel his warmth. you decide you must be having a fever.

“take your shirt off.”

heat creeps up your cheek.

“not even treating me to dinner? where are your manners, monsieur bouchard?”

his last name rolls off your tongue à la française, with the rasp of the “r” and the final “d” left silent, melting under the weight of his gaze. in there, even through the gauze-veil of exhaustion shrouding your vision, you glimpse a hint of fond exasperation as he pulls out a first aid kit.

with a low hiss, you unbutton the blasted thing, slowly revealing the bruises beneath, and the gauze wrapped tight around your chest. blood spreads there, clings to you, uncomfortably viscous. there’s enough of it that you have to peel off your shirt, shed it off, fabric coming away like old skin.

when his hand brushes your side, you almost scream.

“broken ribs, too,” he mutters. “what happened?”

you’re not usually this sloppy.

you take in a sharp inhale.

“what, do you want me to make a statement?”

“nothing so formal, no.”

a beat.

depthless green-grey eyes focus on you, and you alone, and you feel the weight of his gaze in your very marrow, burrowing and burrowing until it reaches your psyche.

it’s like having someone standing at your front door, elias knocking at the forefront of your mind, waiting for you to tell him. he could pry it out of you. he doesn’t.

there’s silence, for a while. stretching, stretching, only troubled by the sound of hands brushing against one another because of course elias bouchard would have hydroalcoholic gel in his first aid kit. absently, you watch, eyes following his long, clever fingers twining and intertwining as he sanitizes his hands.

he takes a pair of scissors and starts cutting away the soiled gauze. the blade is cold on your flushed skin. you shiver. slowly, he peels the bandages away and reveals the bloody, bruised mess beneath. out of the fourteen stitches, eight remain untouched.

he sighs.

“this will hurt.”

“i know.”

so he sets to work, bending at the waist to clean up the bleeding wound, gently, so gently you might break under the careful press of the cotton slab on your skin.

your breathing is uneven, sharp, irregular intakes of air like shards digging in your lungs - it hurts.

the worst has yet to come.

when he presses the next slab on the wound itself, you cry out, hand clutching at his forearm, teeth gritted in agony. he continues, unrelenting, your grip on his forearm tightening. you think you might tear at his expansive shirt - egyptian cotton. oh, irony…

finally, he withdraws.

your lower lip is bleeding with how hard you’ve bitten down on it.

“i got sloppy,” you mutter.

“tell me.”

you do. your eyes focus on the needle in his hand, on the blood clinging to his fingertips, crimson droplets highlighting the contours of his veins. in the quiet sunset light, they're golden.

“it was two weeks ago. evelynn o’connell, an egyptologist who so happens to be a very good friend of mine, called, in tears, while i was recording a statement. her son had been kidnapped, and she was begging me to help. so i did.”

a sharp inhale as his hand cradles your hip, fingers splayed on your lower belly as he steadies himself, sharp gaze narrowing down.

“turns out, the kidnappers were a cult of sorts. they knew enough of me and my work at the institute to deem i was a threat.”

“so they kidnapped you.”

“yes. but hey. i found alex, safe and sound.”

the needle penetrates the flesh. you exhale, strained, knuckles turning white where you’re gripping the edges of his desk.

“tell me about the mummy they unearthed for the second time.”

“imhotep. high priest of seti I. condemned to the worst of punishments for having an affair with pharaoh’s wife to be. mummified alive and left to rot.”

two stitches done.

he’s close, elias. closer than you expected, the sunset framing the sharp angles in his face like a modern masterpiece. there’s a strand of graying hair falling in front of his eyes, unkempt. you want to push it back and run your fingers through his hair.

“i don’t know all the details. they had knocked me out hard enough to give me a mild concussion - i think. i…”

a beat. four stitches. elias’ thumb traces abstract patterns on the low dip of your hip. when he speaks, his breath is warm, brushing against your ear.

“take your time.”

“i was dead weight, elias.” your head presses against his shoulder, pinprick pain burning, stinging your eyelids. “couldn’t even protect my godson, couldn’t even get him back home in one piece alone, the o'connells had to come.”

six stitches. all done, all bandaged up, and you’re still talking, so, so very fast.

“that temple crumbled upon us and i had Seen it coming, but i didn’t even have the time to act, it all went down so fast-”

your name is sharp on his tongue. you raise your head, and it’s heavy, and you’re all raw nerves exposed under his ceaseless gaze, with tears streaming down your face and god, why are you crying-

“are they dead?”

“what?”

“the o’connells. are any of them dead?”

“no, but-”

“are your enemies dealt with?”

there’s a pernicious voice, little screaming thing, that burns the words across your mind. death is only the beginning. you think of imhotep falling down in the duat and nod, slowly.

“then why do you keep worrying?"

“because the mere thought of losing the people i cherish ruins me.” you raise your head, and you’re exhausted, and the small space between his arms looks so very inviting. “because if i slip up, they die.”

“they didn’t.”

“no, they didn’t. not then. but, gods, elias, i’ve Seen them die, death waiting at every corner of this damned temple-”

his lips press down on yours. slow, soft, and so very warm. you let out a muffled sigh, hands digging in the collar of his shirt as he leans in closer, as he breathes you in. with a teasing nip at your lower lip, he withdraws, licking away the blood coating his lips.

you look up at him, eyes widening.

“you need to get better at Seeing. i can teach you.” a glance at his watch. “how about i treat you to dinner?”

you can only stare at him, mouth agape in shock.

“dear?”

“oh. oh, um. yes, that’ll be lovely. seven tonight?”

a low chuckle as he wraps his suit jacket around your shoulders.

“eager, aren’t we?”

“oh, you unsufferable-”

he shuts you up with a kiss and sends you on your way, hand settling on what little part on the small of your back is left without bruises.

“take the rest of the week off. i’ll pick you up at seven.” a beat, as he holds the door open for you. “do try to get some rest, dear.”

a beat. you peck his lips and smile.

"will do, boss."

#elias bouchard x reader #elias bouchars x y/n #elias bouchard x you #the magnus archives x reader #the magnus archives x you #the magnus archives x y/n #the magnus archives #elias bouchard #obticeo writes

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hannahssimblr · 12 days ago

Text

After eight, in the inner city, I hold the door for Astrid. We step inside the restaurant and heat hits our faces in a waft, warming our frozen skin. Astrid slips her gloves off, folds her hat and unzips her coat with ease as I struggle, suddenly far too hot in my hat, the zip of my coat slipping between gloved fingers. I’ve pulled it inside out by the time the cloakroom attendant takes it out of my hands. I have walked snow onto the carpet behind me, while Astrid, miraculously, has not.

“They’re all here already,” she says. “We’re the last.”

“Yes, like always.”

It’s a table for six, and there our friends sit in conversation, their menus already on the table.

“Oh, Astrid! Jude!” Elias gets up from his seat at the head of the table to hug us. His smile, big and white, and his face flushed from the heat.

“We’re late,” Astrid points out. She speaks apologetically, but doesn’t actually apologise. “But we have your gift.”

“Oh!” He takes the gift bag from her and kisses both her cheeks. “This is so nice, my God, Astrid.”

I bought it, actually; the scarf made with some kind of silk mohair something-or-other, but Astrid picked it out, so really it’s she that deserves the credit. He’ll think she wrote the card too, even though she didn’t. I’m the one with the nicer handwriting.

“‘Dear Elias, on your twenty-first birthday,’” he reads as we join him at the table. “‘Here’s hoping for a year as fabulous as you are. I hope I know you forever, and we can party together at ninety-one too. You won’t need the scarf in Bali, but we hope it keeps you warm when you touch back down in Berlin next month. With love, Astrid and Jude.’ Oh,” he holds it to his chest. “You two are so sweet.”

“You are not supposed to say happy birthday unless it is a person’s actual birthday,” says Leon, swirling his wine around and pretending he can smell notes of bergamot, or whatever the server said was in it. He takes a sip, then sends the bottle back to the kitchen.

“Oh, okay, sorry,” I say. “We should have posted the card to Indonesia. That was really stupid of us, you’re right.”

His nostrils flare while Jonas, next to him, peruses a menu.

“Wow,” he comments, “Forty seven euro for the monkfish. It seems expensive.”

“Well, it’s an occasion,” Leon says, as the server returns with a second, hopefully more acceptable, bottle of wine. “We all agreed to eat at a nice restaurant.”

I raise my eyebrows, “Oh? What occasion is it?”

“Elias’ birthday, of course, what are you-” he breaks off to mutter to the server, who then circles the table to fill our glasses.

“I thought we just agreed not to mention the birthday until the actual birthday, which is not today, right? What date is it, again?”

Dalia sighs from her end of the table. “Jude, oh lord.”

Leon rolls his eyes. “You are being immature.”

What’s actually immature is a twenty-six-year-old man making an unnecessary enemy of someone who still has the word ‘teen’ at the end of their age, but Dalia is already kicking me beneath the table before I can open my mouth to point this out.

“I would love to see Bali,” Astrid sighs. “When it’s so cold like this, I feel I can’t stand it. I just want to be somewhere nice and warm.”

Elias smiles. “Well, maybe for your twenty-first birthday, your boyfriend will take you there.”

“Well, we’ve just booked tickets to Amalfi, actually,” I say. “We’re going in April.”

“Oh, I love Italy.”

“Me too,” Astrid clutches his hand in hers, a gesture of excitement in their shared love of, whatever, gelato or something. They converse about places they’ve been, and what they’ve seen, using the correct, Italian pronunciation, which is fine, because that’s how they’re supposed to be pronounced, and Astrid is fluent in Italian, but sometimes when I’m privy to conversations like this, I think of Jen, and the way she’d laugh if she ever overheard them.

Whenever a natural gap opens up in their conversation, I consider adding in my own anecdote about the time I went to Rome on a school trip when I was sixteen, and the school was cheap, so they made us do the whole journey by bus, which was so boring that Fitzy and I started squeezing dollops of toothpaste into people’s hair as they slept and posing alongside them with our two fingers up. Our punishment took the form of the teachers revoking our passes to St Peters Basilica, so while the others were in there, taking zoomed in photos of Michelangelo’s tiny penis, we spent two hours roaming the streets in search of a Dominos Pizza, which we did eventually find. Mine slipped out of its box and onto the pavement before I had even taken a bite, and we posed for photos with our two fingers up next to that, too.

But I know that if I tell the story, and Elias won’t react the way I want him to, but gasp, and look very sad as though it’s a tragedy, and then later, Astrid will ask me why I decided to share the story in the first place, because it was kind of awkward. When Elias asks me if I’ve been to Italy before, I simply smile, and I say no.

“You will adore it, then. Will you hire a car?”

“I suppose we will, right? Makes sense.”

Astrid nods.

“Well, then, if you’re staying in Amalfi, you might as well drive to Sorrento. Leon and I once stayed in this incredible hotel with a sea view. I can find out what it is called.”

“Oh, please.” Her thumb strokes the back of my hand. “We could add one or two more nights to our trip, do you think?”

I smile. “Yeah, of course we can.”

He tells her about a restaurant that does gnocchi in such a way that is notably different from other gnocchis in the region, and they continue, even as the food arrives. Tiny portions. I forgot the name of what I ordered.

Across the table, Leon and Jonas listen as Dalia talks animatedly.

“Right, and then, the woman, whose name is Martha, by the way, turns to me, and she says-”

She is halfway through a story that needs more context than what I have. I open my phone.

Jen, just thinking about our school tour to Rome lmao. Oh my God - the one where the teachers caught Ashling Duggan hiding you under her bed in the hostel? Hahahahaha yes! I still tell people about that trip, like, it’s always my go-to story with new people. Same, we’re just at dinner now, talking about Italy. I was just remembering all the stupid things that happened. And didn’t Cian Hayes shit himself or something??? I’m always foggy on that specific detail. Yeah, and he turned his underpants inside out because he was too lazy to get out of bed.

Omg sick. What do your friends think of the story?

My thumb hovers over the keyboard.

Yeah, they laughed. Show them that compilation of photos of you and Fitzy with all your sleeping toothpaste victims. Oh, God, I don’t have those anymore. I think I left all my photos in Dublin. What a waste! I’ll go dig them out someday, and take them with when I come to Berlin. Okay! Come soon, please. I miss you.

I miss you too, Judie. It’s honestly so weird that you have a whole new girlfriend I haven’t even met. I know. It’s weird for me too, but you’ll love her. She’s amazing. I bet. She’s beautiful. Understatement. I don’t know how you keep pulling it off. Well, I’d be stupid if I didn't go out with her, wouldn’t I? Yeah, probably. Lucky you aren’t stupid, then.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2011 #sims 4 story #simblr #simsblr story #sims community

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justrainandcoffee · 9 months ago

Text

Deal (Tommy Shelby vs. oc!Solomons) + (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc) Part 1

“You're a lamb entering the territory of a hungry wolf.”

Masterlist

Summary: Why is Thomas Shelby in front of Mrs. Solomons? Just business. Tommy just needs information. But first he needs to deal with Rose Solomons who, unlike her husband, has no sympathy for the man sitting in her office. And yet, they know how to make a deal. "A soul for a soul, Mr. Shelby."

Warnings: Mentions of dead, killing. Allusions to sex. Mentions of physical violence. Misogyny.

Words: 4.5k. || Special thanks to @look-at-the-soul who helped me today 🙃♥️.

1924.

Yesterday

"The bastard is a fookin' ghost!" yelled Arthur.

The Garrison was empty except for those members of the Peaky Blinders, allowed to be there. There was a person that they couldn't find. An Irishman called Nicholas Baker, possible member of the IRA. Last time they saw him, it was he when he shot a blinder and left him to die in the streets. He escaped before Arthur or anyone else could catch him.

Since then, the brothers and the rest of the gang were looking for him no succeed. Not just because he killed a man they know, but also because they were sure he was a spy.

"Maybe he's dead," suggested Isaiah.

"No. He's alive and living in London." This time, Tommy Shelby's voice could be heard all over the place. "And Elias is not the only person he killed. And his real name is Sean Patrick O'Finn."

Tommy dropped a newspaper in front of his brother and Arthur read it out loud.

"His own sister! He fookin' killed his sister!"

"And tried to killed his wife as well, according to the neighbours. She escaped." Tommy sat in his usual place as he lit up a cigarette and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He looked at Arthur and the rest of his men.

"We have nothing, then! He can be in middle of fookin' Russia by now." Arthur was frustrated as usual.

"I don't think so. I think he's still there in London, and as we know, police is useless. London is a big city and they don't care. People are killed every day" Tommy lit another cigarette "but I'm going to find him. And I'm going to put a bullet in his head, too."

"You don't know where to start, Tommy!" Arthur furrowed brow and look at his brother.

"Yes, I do know where to start. I need to talk to his wife."

"But do you know where this woman is, Tom?"

"Yes."

The Solomons residence in London was quiet. Rose was working and Alfie just arrived there over an hour ago. He was about to rest his back in bed when their maid announced that he had a call.

"It's Mr. Shelby," the woman said. She saw him do a grimace, but he said nothing to her.

"Thanks, Doris."

Alfie entered his office and closed the door behind before picking up the phone. Every time Tommy called it meant problems, usually for him. But this time what Tommy said, took him by surprise.

"Are ya mad?"

"I just need her this time, Alfie."

"She will kill ya, mate."

"No, she won't. Your wife isn't a killer."

"Maybe. But the women around her are. Honestly, Tom, they're a pack of fuckin' bloody wolves claiming for men flesh. You're a little lamb entering the territory of a hungry wolf. Rosie is the leader of that pack, if she gives the order next time I'll see ya it'll be in your own fuckin' funeral... If I find your body." On the other side of the line, Tommy opened a drawer and picked up some papers and started to take some notes. Sometimes Alfie exaggerated, especially if he was talking about his wife. As far as Tommy knew, Rose Solomons just worked helping women in need and in the streets fighting for equal rights. The few times he saw her in Alfie's place she didn't seem to be a menace to anyone.

"They're just women, eh?"

"My Rosie isn't just a woman, Tommy. She's me wife." Alfie sighed "Rosie will decorate the fuckin' Christmas tree they put on her workplace with your balls."

"I'll take a risk, then. Just wanted to inform you."

"Fine. But I'm not going to tell her yet. I prefer she knows it on her own… good luck then, Tom."

1924.

Today. London.

It's only 7am and the Solomons were making love for the second time in the morning. Rose didn't know what her husband was thinking, or feeling, that he had waking up so passionated but she wasn't complaining either.

"Alfie… I can't… god…" her back arched and her toes curled once last time until she fell on the mattress, completely satisfied. She could feel Alfie finish as well.

The man stayed on top of her few minutes more, catching his breath, before rolling on his back, laying next to her. Alfie opened his arms and invited her to be against his chest.

"Are you fine?" she asked kissing his neck.

"Feelin' like a God now, luv. Why do ya ask? You're talking like we never fuck like this before."

"I ask, because I know that sometimes you use sex to channel your frustrations and I just want to know you're fine."

"I'm perfect, Rosie. Gimme some time and we can repeat it."

She laughed. "No way you still have energy, Al. I can't, I've to work. Tonight, maybe."

In response, Alfie kissed her. That same night, probably she wants to kill him. He had talked to Tommy the day before and she didn't know. Alfie was just trying his best to calm her before the storm. Although spending time with her, it was always beautiful. The kiss continued until she pulled apart slowly. He caressed her cheek. Rose knew that Alfie definitely was hiding something from her, but she didn't know what. After one last brief kiss, she sat down in bed and then walked to the bathroom to take a shower.

Alfie stayed in bed, thinking about his friend going to his wife's place. In all those years, over a decade since it was founded, he visited her school just twice. Once when it was inaugurated, when they met each other again, and the other one after the war. They had an implicit deal: "You don't interfere with my business and I don't interfere with yours" even if they asked each other for some advice, suggestions or help. He was a bit worried about her, even when he knew that Tommy wasn't going to hurt her.

When Rose went out the bathroom, she found him sitting in bed, stretching his back, ready to have breakfast. She approached him and played gently with his hair.

"Thought you're going to join the shower."

Alfie put his hands on her hips and pushed her down on his knees. She was wrapped with a towel and when Alfie kissed her shoulder, he smelled the fresh soap on her skin.

"Ya didn't invited me."

"Since when you need invitation?" she chuckled and put her arms around him. Her hands were stroking the back of his neck. Rose was staring at him, "are you sure you're fine?"

"I am, Rosie."

"Okay," she didn't believe him, but she wasn't going to pressure him either. Instead, she kissed him and he reciprocate immediately. Her towel fell on the floor and she felt him ready to be with her once more.

Never two without three.

Arrow house

By the dawn of the next day, every Shelby knew where the leader was going. If they had any opinion about it, they didn't share it. A car was parked outside Arrow House with three men in it.

"I'm going now," announced Tommy. His black coat was over a chair and he took it. "Johnny Dogs and the Smiths are coming with me."

Arthur chuckled. "Johnny Dogs? And the Smith brothers? Ain't too much, Tom? Four men to visit just a bunch of pussies and tits? They're just chicks."

"Not according to Alfie."

"According to fookin' Alfie! The fookin' Alfie! Ya believe him?"

"Yes. Alfie will never allow me to be near his wife, if he didn't know now that she's safe. I know that. And if she's safe that means she's surrounded by an army."

"Are ya planning to kill them?"

"I don't kill women, Arthur. And I don't want problems with Alfie. It's just in case."

"So take me with ya!"

"Arthur, no offense but you don't know how to deal with a Solomons. Stay here and take care of the business, eh? I'll be back at night, probably or tomorrow."

"Tom! Tommy!" the eldest brother yelled but the other man already reached the door.

"Goodbye, Arthur. Tell Pol, that I left her a letter under the flowerpot."

Pebblebrock was Rose Solomons' former manor and prison hell at the same time. Now it was a beautiful school for girls and at the same time it served as a roof for some women who had run from their abusive homes.

As the owner, she was the one in charge even when she had several women in which she trusted working with her side by side. But the final decision on everything was always hers.

Alfie, and Tommy too, were right. The place and Rose, were surrounded by women specifically trained to kill. It wasn't uncommon for men to try to reach those who they already hurt. The rules were crystal clear MEN ARE NOT ALLOWED IN PEBBLEBROCK. The ones who didn't understand the warning were now resting eternally in a cemetery.

Men were only allowed if they were doctors or priests. The institution had nurses and two nuns who volunteered to help there. But sometimes a doctor was required, same with priests. Any other men should call for an appointment, only under that circumstances their entrance were allowed.

"Look at this fucking place."

From the road, Tommy, Johnny Dogs and the Smith brothers were watching the entire property. The gardens extended beyond their sight.

"Full of pussies, it's my fucking paradise. An all-you-can-eat-fucking restaurant" commented Gregory Smith. Except Tommy, the rest of them laughed.

Rose heard the crows. That was never a good signal.

"Now who?" she thought for herself. A lot of names crossed her mind, but none of them was the right answer.

Five minutes later a knock on her office's door brought the answer.

"Who?" she asked not believing her ears.

"Mr. Thomas Shelby, Mrs. Solomons" repeated the woman in front of her. "He says he needs you."

"The Thomas Shelby?"

But unaware of who he was the other woman didn't respond.

"Yeah, well. Tell him I'm coming."

"There are three other men with him, Mrs. Solomons."

Of course.

The day was beautiful. Cloudless sky and almost no wind. It'd be perfect if not for Tommy Shelby in her property.

"Didn't you read the sign?" she said greeting them "men are not allowed here."

"Good morning, Mrs. Solomons," said Tommy with deep voice.

"It is, Tommy. It is."

It always was intrigued him that a man like Alfie could be so devoted to a woman who barely reached his shoulders. His Rosie. Alfie Solomons could start a war against the king and the Pope if something happened to that woman.

Gregory Smith had another idea.

"We don't follow rules, sweetheart. We're the peaky fucking blinders."

"The Peaky who?" Rose looked at the man "Who the fuck are you?"

"The audacity of this bitch. It's a Solomons, eh?"

"Gregory…" warned Tommy.

"Yeah. I'm a Solomons. Proud of it. But I'm quite dumb, Gregory. So I need your help, I only know how to count to two. Like, one, two… what's next?"

"Three."

BANG.

A woman stading behind Rose was holding a gun.

The bullet impacted his head. The man was already dead when his body collapsed on the ground. Rose just looked her pocket watch and then clicked her tongue.

"Men are not allowed here," she repeated. "You understand the warnings now or you what to be the next?"

Tommy looked at the dead body. The blonde woman behind Rose was staring at him and Tommy knew that she wasn't joking. One more step and it couldn't be any difference between a Gruyère cheese and him.

Tommy sent Johnny Dogs and the remaining man again to the car. He also gave his gun to his friend.

"Ya sure, Tom?"

"Just go, Johnny."

When Tommy turned around again, he saw the woman extending her arm, she moved her hand "gimme the fucking cap."

Again, Tommy did what she said. She gestured him to follow her.

The interior of her office was elegantly decorated. An expensive rug on the floor matched the wallpaper and the mahogany desk. Lots of books were perfectly ordered on the bookshelves. Rose Solomons invited him to take seat on one of her velvety armchairs. Tommy followed her with his eyes. Now his cap was over the head of a marble bust representing Aphrodite, just behind her, looking at him. The woman sat behind her desk and put her hands under her chin.

"We have a beautiful garden here. A greenhouse full of exotic flowers and plants. Was your man married? I'd like to send the widow some flowers."

"He wasn't."

"Better, then."

Her brown eyes never leave his blue ones and same as Alfie, he felt she was trying to anticipate his movements. But Tommy didn't express any emotion.

"So? What the hell is doing Thomas Michael Shelby here? My husband isn't here."

"Not looking for Alfie."

"That's fucking new considering the mutual obsession you have with each other."

Tommy curved his lips, barely smiling. "I'm here purely for business, Mrs. Solomons."

"I'm not the kind of person you do business with."

"You are."

Both of them remained in silence for several seconds. Probably she was unaware of it, but Tommy noticed some mannerisms in her that he had witnessed in Alfie before. She was thinking while playing with her fingers. Impossible to say who copied who.

"What kind of business? Illegality has no place here," she finally said.

"I need to know where a certain man is."

Before she could say something Tommy saw the door opening and a beautiful woman in her mid-forties, entered Mrs. Solomons' office. She greeted him with a movement of her head and then started to talk to Rose in French but she stopped her almost immediately.

"This isn't going to work now, Geraldine. The man knows french," she said pointing to him "same as Alfie he fought in France during years. Tell Edith to come. She speaks Hebrew."

Geraldine nodded before leaving again.

"You do that often? Speaking other language in front of strangers?" Tommy settled in the armchair.

"Don't you do the same? I'm sure that speaking Romani is very useful if you want to express something to a friend or relative but you don't want the other to know what are you saying. Don't judge me, Mr. Shelby."

Edith, Tommy asummed it was her, was barely in her 20s, probably she was still a teen. Young and with a cheerful face, the girl approached Mrs. Solomons and both of them started to talk in Hebrew, a language he couldn't understand. For a moment, Rose looked at him sideways.

"Thanks, Edith" she said and the girl left without looking at Tommy. "One of your men tried to sneak in my school. Or they're fucking dumbs or they're really ready to visit God."

"Fucking hell…" Tommy rolled his eyes before breathing deeply. He was sure it wasn't Johnny Dogs but the other Smith. "Listen, Mrs. Solomons, I didn't give the order. I didn't know."

"I know, he acted by his own. Good news is he's alive. Bad news is my girls are taking care of him. It depends on you what I'm going to do with him. Alfie knew you were coming, didn't he?"

"I called him yesterday."

Rose sighed "Yes, of course he knew. Of course he fucking knew," his actions that morning now it made sense to her. Not because it wasn't unsual for them to have sex in the morning, but because there was something in his eyes that his mouth wasn't saying. And after all those years together, Rose knew him very well. "Anyway… what do you want do with your man, Mr. Shelby?"

"Can I smoke?"

"If you go next to the window and put your hand with the cigarette out, I don't have any problem. But I don't want smoke here."

She saw how he stood up and walked towards the window. That one in particular faced one of the gardens where the rosebushes were. In spring and summer, the sweet smell of roses invaded her office and it was something that she really liked.

When that morning Arthur asked him why he took three men with him just to visiting a school and women's residence, Tommy was exploring his chances. Better Gregory Smith than him. He trusted Johnny Dogs, he was a loyal, obedient man. But the Smiths…

"Kill him if you want," Tommy finally said "if my man can't follow my orders, then he should face the consequences. This is your place after all, Mrs. Solomons."

"Edith told me he was screaming that he wanted to avenge his brother."

"Yes. The one you kill it was his brother." Tommy glanced at her. A ghost of a smile was on his face.

"I never killed anyone, Mr. Shelby."

"You don't need to hold a gun and shoot to be a murderer. Most of the murderers just give the order behind their desks."

"Well, he'd be alive if he hadn't been an asshole. It's all about the rules, Mr. Shelby. The sign is there for a reason and if you ask me, you don't seem very concerned about your man's death."

"Rules, eh? Something tells me you're not very fond to follow them, either, Mrs. Solomons. How was the prison?" Tommy blew another puff of smoke out the window, but kept looking at her.

"Pretty cold. Full of cooties and rats. I named one in your honour, that's a tradition that we the Solomons have. Name a goat, name a rat… How's Arfah, by the way? Alfie misses him."

"Thanks for the honour, Mrs. Solomons. Arthur wanted to come. I told him he doesn't know how to deal with a Solomons."

"Oh," she grinned. "And you do?"

"I'm pretty confident about it. It worked in the past."

"I have no doubts about it. But I'm not my husband, Mr. Shelby. I don't fall for a pair of blue eyes and a chiseled face and most of all, I don't trust men."

Tommy threw the remaining of his cigarette in a basket that was there and walked again to the seat in front of her. He crossed his legs and rested his hands over his stomach.

"Do you want to fuck me, Mrs. Solomons?"

"Yes. Just bring me a bottle of cyanide to accompany the moment. And then I want to hug a black mamba. Your place or mine?"

Tommy chuckled. "Wherever you prefer, sweetheart."

Far away from being intimidated by the confidence he was exuding, Rose just scratched her chin.

"Alfie accepted? I mean, if this is the way you deal with a Solomons..."

"Never asked."

"Oh, you should have. The answer maybe could suprise you. But, let me tell you something, Tommy. Can I call you Tommy?" he nodded. Rose left her armchair and approached the man. He followed her with his eyes. Her face was now in front of his, their noses were touching. Both pair of eyes were staring at each other. Tommy felt her breath on his skin "I know who you are, Tommy. Reputation precedes you. I know how you do business with women. But here's the thing: I'm not them. And yes, I'm a Solomons, yes Alfie and I we have lot of similarities. But I'm not Alfie. I'm not interesting in you as a man and if your cock is the only thing you have to offer me, you're wasting your time here… sweetheart." Rose inhaled deeply "God! I never killed anyone, but I swear the devil keep tempting me. How about having your head as a trophy hunting hanging on this office? But…" Rose moved her head back again "as I said, I'm not a murderer."

"Alfie is a lucky man, Mrs. Solomons," Tommy said once she returned to her seat behind the desk.

"Is he?" She tilted her head.

"Believe me." Tommy straighted on his armchair "and I'm sure If something happens to him, I'm sure you're going to heard the devil that keeps telling you to kill someone."

"Be sure of that. If anything happens to my Alfie, the only one who can stop me is Alfie himself. I hope nothing happens to him, EVER. You know about it, don't you?. Your late wife, we knew what happened. I can't imagine the pain."

"No, you can't imagine. But I'm getting over it." Tommy cleared his throat "Mrs. Solomons, I need information."

"In exchange of…"

"Mutual respect."

Rose snorted. "Yes, sure. Alfie could be delighted when I tell him. Information means business, Mr. Shelby. And whiskey is for business, innit?"

She opened a cabinet in her desk and put a bottle of whiskey with the Solomons logo on it. Behind her, were two glasses that she grabbed. A rose was engraved on them.

"I didn't know you drink," he said.

"Only in very few occasions. I prefer just tea for the rest of the day. So? You tell me."

Tommy drank a sip of whiskey before talking again. In his mind the image of Elias dead on the streets of Small Heath appeared again. Contrary to Gregory Smith, Elias was a good man. Her widow was pregnant and a payroll wasn't enough for the woman to compensate her for her husband's death. Yet, it was the only thing that Tommy could do.

"I'm looking for Mrs. Baker."

"There are several, Tommy. It's a very common name. Any details?

"It's an Irishwoman. I don't know her appearance but her husband killed her sister-in-law. It means his own sister."

"Sonia," mumbled her, "but the last name isn't Baker. It's O'Finn. Although she said that prefers her own surname. I'm going to keep that information to me until you tell me what the hell is going on."

From the murdered committed in Birmingham to the one in London's underground. Tommy told her about his suspicions that O'Finn was a member of the IRA and how he, Tommy, was now a target of them. Again.

"If that's true," she replied "then no matter what, your head already had a price and it's not going to be me the one hanging it on my office, but them. Nowadays it's very easy to send a message to the other side of the map. A telegram or a phone call… I don't understand why do you want to talk to this woman if he already communicated with his people."

"Because I don't think he did that. He's hiding. He's a fucking rat."

"Ok. Well, there's a lot of problems first. Mrs. O'Finn, she's not in conditions to talk. Even if she can, you're not allowed to be near her and this is not negotiable. These women are under my wing. Not you, not fucking Churchill can be near them. I don't give a fuck if you bring an order from the fucking president of I-don't-know-where. Understood? I have women specialized in talk to women with the kind of trauma that Sonia has, so, think about twice before suggesting another way to do this."

"The less people know about it, the better, Rose."

She pointed to the door, silently. Tommy sighed. "Fine. But I prefer that you can be present. And me too. Or at least I want to hear everything by myself."

"Agree. We have a place we can use. I need to tell you, or better say, reminder you that Sonia is highly traumatized. Yes, she's alive but the price she paid…" Rose stood up again but this time she walked to one of her bookshelves and picked up a carpet, although to do it she had to climb a ladder. "Tommy, I don't have this rule of "men aren't allowed" just because I'm fucking misandristic bitch, I'm not. I believe in equal rights. I fight for equality. I have that sign because people here, women, kids… are afraid of your kind. I have a register for every single woman that lived here since 1911 when I inaugurated this place. Open the folder."

Tommy obeyed and his first reaction was exactly what Rose hoped to get "Shit…"

The first page was the document of a woman who lived there in 1914 before volunteering as nurse in France, Rose never saw her again. Her name was Rita Brown, 20 years old. She escaped from her house because her father was an abuser. He ended up cutting her face marking a cross on her.

"I don't allow men, because we don't know what kind of bastard will cross that gate. Your man, that Gregory, he's not the first. Dozens before him, I'm genuinely surprised that if you talked to Alfie yesterday he didn't mention my women."

"He did."

"So you knew."

Tommy nodded and Rose studying his face laughed . Suddenly she understood. "You bring this bastard on purpose! You fucking did! You wanted him dead. Fucking hell, Tommy. I heard things a lot of things about you and I'm still impressed. The brother, too? You wanted me to rid off the other guy, too?"

"Why not?"

"Fine. I don't give a shit. One less." She returned to her seat and rang a bell. The same young girl called Edith appeared. Both of them talked in Hebrew again and Edith went out again once they finished. "We have an agreement, it seems. Now my payment."

Tommy opened his coat and placed two payrolls on her desk.

"I appreciate the effort," she said no looking at the money. "But I'm not interested it in cash, although if you don't want it. I can use it to buy something for the school like a new piano for the girls and some violins. A donation."

"I don't want it," he confirmed "then what's your price, Mrs. Solomons?"

"A soul for a soul, Mr. Shelby. I want a man dead."

"Who?"

"Churchill's right hand man."

Next part.

...so? 👀

#alfie solomons #tommy shelby #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons x ofc #peaky blinders #tom hardy #peaky blinders x oc #alfie x rose #Thomas Shelby #cillian Murphy

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nwarrior777 · 17 days ago

Text

Martin, Papers, Fire. And Knife

a little draft I wrote laying in bed as coping mechanism today in the morning. writing my fav character smashing someone to blood pile is therapy

inspired by that 9 minutes animatic of that moment of canon burning statements.

...

- is it really so hard to believe that i hate you as much as others

- no but it's hard to believe that you will act up about it

...

[he acted about it]

...

- what are you doing martin

- just walking i guess. i can't act up against you right. so what's bad can happen if i will come closer

- *chuckle*

- hard to believe i can act up. huh. why? can you tell me why. it's interesting to hear the reason

- martin you are worthless, pathetic-

- mhm mhm mhm yeah yeah yeah. i asked why. why do you think i am like this

- *chuckle*

- i know the answer i just want to hear it

- oh really

- yeah

- you think you ready to hear it

- oh i am so ready Elias

- phh. okay

- your look. your voice. gestures, behavior. everything. it's everything martin. entire you are the reason

- you such a shithead Elias

- ahah-

- you couldn't even tell this straight.

- i am very fat guy in glasses, quiet mostly, with eye tic, trembling voice, bring tea to coworkers. that's that you mean by "pathetic" right?

- you said it

- and you mean it.

- * slow claps * very cool performance martin. cool. you are so cool martin. now lets finish it

- i didn't get yet to the best part

- enough. i don't have time for your kindergarden theater. and you talk too much today. but this [ burning paper sound ] i don't like it martin. and you will stop doing it right now

- if you didn't notice i am not sitting on table burning anything. i am in front of you. Standing right. In front of you

- good. but i am assuming you will come back to it as soon as i leave the room

- you will not leave this room Elias

- ...oookay. your attempts to whatever you doing bored me. not very exquisite way to shut you down, but, quick one.

*clears throat* [eye sound] your mother-

- [eye sound stops] hates me? oh i know. her eyes told me long before your

- ...

- ...[eye sound] but you don't know why-

- [eye sound stops] i know exactly why. father face. which i have sticked to mine. had. father face we didn't see near by - she - for years, me never, well, at least not enough time to remember his face by myself. and yes, she destroyed photoes. but what do you think, i didn't try to find him? you think i couldn't find images on internet? of course i did, Elias

[ steps closer ]

- of course i did.

what was it Elias? a try to make me not able to look in the mirror? me bursting in tears about it? i did it long time ago yeah. but i went through. I added something. Elias, i *Looove* looking in mirror, now *especially*. This fucker vanished after some pounds on, new haircut and glasses. He also wasn't into dandy poetic fashion, you know. more into dirty all in beer and chips shirt and shorts

so its not. a bother

- .... very cute family story martin but-

....

- *SOUND*

...

- is this cute?

...

- * cough, blood choking *

...

- is this cute Elias? a knife in your guts? going baaaaack

- *blood chocking, try to catch breath* * scream in pain *

- ....and foooorth

- *blood coughing hard choking on blood short breaths in try to catch air interrupted in cought*

- is it? fucking? cute?

( sounds of splashing blood, knife goes in and in and in)

---

- look. LOOK. IN MY EYES

- ---

- actually you know. i don't care what you see in me. i see myself. feel. much more about me, than others will ever tell.

- *blood cough* *unclear voice sound*

- oooh nonono. last word here will be mine

...

(sounds of splashing blood from fast, fast faster going up and in knife smashing meat, bones, skull, going through to the floor)

...

tape cassete click

#the magnus archives #tma #martin blackwood #tma martin #tma fic #ask to tw tag

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dxwnfxll · 2 years ago

Note

hey bro i saw you got requests open, can i request any scp character with a reader who starts playing background music during other peoples arguments. like this video https://www.youtube.com/shorts/8h_UDtJH4-A

I apologize for any grammar mistakes since i'm using a phone, and i do hope i got this right (this request made me giggle a lil)

Dr. Amar (doing all pronouns for them since they're canonly genderfluid)

- Amar was just casually enjoying his day doing the usual ol' replacing Clefs shot gun shells with glitter, when Clef found out and decided to go off on them.

-Of course this wasn't really the first time the two argued, but it was the first time they argued since you joined the foundation.

-Just as things were getting heated Amar could've sworn she started hearing..spongbob music?

-It probably pissed Clef off even more to see Amar start looking around for the source of the music.

-But Amar spotted you in a door way staring into his soul, but it was hilarious that you were casually making background music during their argument.

-Amar tried to argue back they really did, but the damn music getting a lil louder each time she tried to speak made him giggle a lil.

-Clef eventually got annoyed also hearing the music and just walked away from the whole thing (He's vowing revenge now)

Dr. Clef

-So Dr. Clef technically already does this in a sense, he loves playing his ukulele especially during the designated eating times.

-He'll usually go into the cafeteria and play his ukulele on off notes to make everyone miserable, of course this got him yelled at by some random researcher.

-This wasn't unusual though, he always seemed to piss some random researcher off daily.

-What was unusual though was the sound of spongebob music playing, he swore he could hear it.

-He couldn't exactly spot where the music was coming from though, he began to even wonder if he was making the music unconsciously.

-But then he spotted you at a random table playing some spongebob music, he kinda blinked at you before his grin somehow got even wider.

-He started ignoring the random researcher and played his ukulele louder than you, and casually went back to 'torturing' everyone with his music.

Dr. Glass

-Glass doesn't usually get in arguments, sure there are some people who get on his nerves..but the guy is an Angel.

-So when he gets in one it doesn't usually last long, but today he was in an argument with Shaw.

-Nothing all to bad, he was just trying to get the chaotic person to take his meds. Which resulted in a heated discussion in the middle of the hallway.

-Glass tried to talk somewhere more appropriate but the 'man child' refused.

-That's when he heard it, the sound of spongebob music. Glass sighed already knowing who it was.

-He glanced around making the mistake of looking away from Elias to see where exactly you were.

-He then spots you peaking out a nearby research room playing the music, he clears his throat

-"Y/n, please. Now is not the ti-" He then notices Elias is gone "oh for goodness sake!" and he storms off to go find the man.

Dr. Rights

-Dr. Rights is a..let's say sociable person, and by sociable I mean she knows just about everyone

-So it's no surprise if she gets in an argument with some of these people, but today she seemed to be in an argument with some random JR researcher.

-She didn't even remember how the argument started, but now they were arguing back and forth inside of one of the many break rooms around the site.

-She then could hear music and swore maybe she was going crazy, she glanced around till spotting you nearby.

-She let out a chuckle and still tried to argue back but couldn't, this whole situation turned funny to her. And she couldn't remember why she was even arguing in the first place.

-She pat the random JR researcher on the shoulder while she laughed a bit, the researcher seemed to notice you as well and also began to giggle a bit.

Dr. Gerald

-With how awful Dr. Gerald's luck is, it's no surprise he's gotten himself in a few arguments (and luckily he'd get out of some unscathed)

-Gerald had somehow pissed off some random researcher, he didn't know what exactly he did but the researcher was not letting up.

-Gerald argued back he didn't even know what the researcher was talking about, which only made the situation worse.

-As the two argued it out Gerald could hear spongebob music out of no where, he gulped a bit wondering if it was some SCP (dudes very paranoid).

-But he spotted you and literally sighed in relief, you were just sitting nearby eating a granola bar as you played the spongebob theme music on your lap top.

-That sigh though caused Gerald a broken nose by the upset researcher, dude has really bad luck

Iceberg

-Icebergs sarcastic and rude self jas definitely gotten into plenty of arguments during his time as Dr. Gears assistant.

-Dude can't keep his mouth shut for the life of him, and right now he was arguing with another assistant about..who even knows.

-Iceberg didn't even know what they were arguing about, but he refused to be the 'loser' in this argument.

-Iceberg could then hear spongebob music and sighed loudly knowing who it was. After all the music was always there at every.single.argument. he had

-He turned his head to see you in the nearby door way playing the music, he glared at you narrowing his eyes before rolling them and going back to his argument

-He was very annoyed by you, but the music was still funny...sometimes.

Dr Kondraki

-Konny always seemed to get into an argument whether he wanted to or not.

-And those arguments were usually with Clef of all people, just like right now!

-He and Clef were arguing in his office as you sat on a nearby couch bored out of your mind, the two argued about all sorts of different things that you stopped paying attention to.

-You knew how to stop this argument though, just as the two were getting near the point of possibly being physical you started playing the spongebob theme song.

-The two didn't seem to notice at first still arguing with each other until the music got louder, Kondraki blinking and telling Clef to shut up as he looked over at you.

-The two stared at you as you played the music with a deadpan expression. The whole thing wasn't exactly funny if you had to do it every damn day.

-but luckily the music made the two stop arguing and finally part ways.

Mikell Shaw

-Mikell is an 05 member currently, but back in his more wild days he certainly got into an argument or two.

-And that's when he met you, during his wild days and ever since those days you seemed to never stop following him around.

-Especially when he seemed to get into an argument, he had made the mistake of inviting you to his office on the same day his sister decided to visit and chew him out.

-The two Shaw siblings were in a heated argument about who knows what when you walked in, the cowboy already red in the face from anger too focused on Claire. As his baby sister didn't even notice you come in due to her only focusing on Mikell.

-Only when the two began to hear spongebob music did their argument seem to cease, Mikell raising up a hand to shut his sister up with a "hold on, you hear that?"

-The two looked towards you as you stood in the door frame playing the music, Claire just ended up sighing and leaving the office as Mikell seemed a bit happier to see you.

-(Elias totally isn't paying you to start doing this from now on)

035

-This manipulative mask has certainly seen some things, and he's certainly had his fair share of arguments.

-Especially with the 'god awful' researchers here, he despises them..well except for maybe a few.

-And you were one of them, why? Because you entertained him during arguments.

-Whenever the mask seemed to have an argument, you'd always appear and start playing some weird tune he didn't understand.

-At first it annoyed him greatly, but that was because he saw you as another researcher. Now though it made him laugh, especially when you wouldn't let up even though the person he was arguing with told you to stop.

-He always won the arguments to, as eventually the person he was arguing with would give up as your music got louder and louder.

049

-He'll never say he's gotten into 'arguments', he's more of gotten into 'spats' if anything.

-The only time he can recount an 'argument' is with 035, that 'dreaded mask' he dislikes.

-A breach seemed to happen, 035 had broken out of containment (again) and was currently looking for 049.

-Just as 049 was in the middle of his work with you his 'assistant', 035 burst in laughing

-049 took one look at him and yelled out a 'Villain!' As 035 could only laugh and mock him back.

-The two got into a pretty heated argument, 035 completely forgetting his whole plan of escaping.

-That's when you decided to just start playing the spongebob theme music to make the whole argument even funnier.

-049 seemed to glance at you and speak "I apologize greatly, but now is not the time for music y/n."

-035 laughed "I think it's the right time" he said as his mask smiled, but that smile faded as his body decayed. The argument plus the music had 035s host enough time to decay fully.

-035 laid in the ground with a frown before 049 kicked the mask out of his 'room'

073 (Cain)

-Cain doesn't usually get into arguments very often, he doesn't really ever try to

-He's just always a helpful hand and will always try to see eye to eye with just about everyone, but that doesn't mean he's NEVER gotten into an argument.

-Today he seemed to get into one, arguing with Dr. Shaw and his awful joke. Dr. Shaw had thought it would be funny if she gifted Cain a 'fruit basket' and claim he had been 'cured'

-But the basket was just full of fake fruits, which caused Cain to go off on Dr. Bright for his sadistic joke.

-As the two were in an argument Cain could've sworn he could hear music, but he tried to drown it out staying focused on the argument.

-Eventually the music seemed to get louder and he finally looked away from Dr. Shaw to see you right behind him.

-He looked back to Dr. Shaw only to see him now gone, Cain sighed before looking back at you as you finally stopped playing that music "he gave me a fruit basket...with fake fruit, who does that??"

Hope you enjoyed lolol, i take requests still!

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villainousunsub · 5 months ago

Text

and in your arms I find solace

pairing: Jemily

rating: G

summary:

late night at the office with just them left leads to them finally talking and being how they used to be, even if it is just for one night

AO3

Emily stared at the ceiling above her, the conversation with JJ still playing on a loop. Well, almost conversation. She could tell something was bothering the other woman, was relieved when she asked to talk. Then Tyler walked in and the moment was gone, she felt it, the shift in JJ’s demeanor. And now here she was, laying in her office and tossing possibilities back and forth in her mind. She groaned in frustration as her mind replayed the close to fear look in JJ’s eyes and then cut to the masked secret that she had seen in the bullpen a mere few hours ago. Emily knew she should have pressed, should have asked JJ to come up to her office, but things had felt different recently. Things were a lot different. She was focused on Elias and Gold Star, on making sure the BAU didn’t get pushed away and erased. So focused on making sure her team was okay, but they weren’t. She was focused on the outside, she had failed to see them individually.

JJ was clearly falling apart, Rossi she was pretty sure was going insane, and Garcia was struggling with her personal life. She had no idea if the rest of them were even close to being okay, each and every one of them put on a tough face and never said no, but she was no better. Emily knew she should make an appointment with her therapist, to work out her own issues so that she could help and be better for her team, but god did she hate therapy.

Her mind drifted back to JJ.

It always did. Every night she would lay down, her eyes drifting, and her mind would wander back to every moment she had shared with JJ that day. Those memories let her breathe, let her find comfort and relief even on her darkest days.

But the memory of today stung, the brush off after the panic of that morning, it didn’t sit right. Emily tried to recall anything she had done to push JJ away, that would make her recoil, but nothing had come to mind. She knew that Luke, despite her orders, had told JJ about BAU-Gate, but she knew. They had talked about it over wine years ago when she had come back to the team.

So why did it bother her so? Why did the thought of JJ and the site hurt her enough to sit up and try and catch her breath. Emily dropped her head into her hands, her face warm and damp with tears.

A clink of glass and porcelain echoed through the empty walls. Emily lifted her head, the sound putting her on high alert. She pushed herself up off the couch, walking just close enough to peak out her blinds, to see a slim female figure walk off down the hall to a back office. The gait, the sway, it all seemed very…JJ. Emily moved quickly, throwing the door to her office open and slipped around empty desks. She glanced in offices as she went, most empty of all life, some sprinkled with nothing more than a photo or name plate. Until she hit Morgan’s old office. A faint glow of cell phone light streamed through the window. She cracked the door, just enough to see a bundle of blankets on the couch. Messy blonde hair popped up from under the blanket, curious blue eyes meeting hers. The smile they shared, reached neither of their eyes. JJ sat up against the arm of the couch, bringing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Emily perched herself on the other arm, her foot nudging one of JJ’s.

“Hey you.” JJ rested her head on her knees, “What are you still doing here?”

“I could ask you the same. I thought you went home hours ago.” “Oh yea, no. I just had too much to do so I thought I might as well grab a couch and start early tomorrow.” Emily watched as JJ turned to face away from her, refusing to look at her as she spoke.

“Right,” Emily moved down to the cushion, “and that’s why you’ve been camping in this office for what? A few days? At least if the couch and blanket don’t lie. I would be able to judge based off the take out containers but they are a little too good at cleaning even empty offices.”

“Emily-”

“You don’t have to explain it to me. I understand, even if I don’t know what is happening, I get not wanting to go home even if there is nothing lurking in the dark there.”

“I want to talk to you about something, but I don’t think I can.” JJ pulled herself more into a ball, trying to make herself as small as possible.

“I’m here. No matter what happens.” Emily rubbed her hands up and down JJ’s legs before pulling them into her lap. “But if we need to sit here until everyone clocks back in before we speak again, I can do that.”

They sat in silence for a while, Emily drawing incomprehensible patterns as JJ picked at the blanket on her lap. Eventually JJ shifted so that her feet were hanging off the arm of the couch and her head was in Emily’s lap. Emily picked her hands up, pausing for a moment before dropping them to run her fingers through blonde hair. She could feel JJ relax under her touch, the motion putting them both at ease.

“He told me. Which is fine. I mean I don’t like that it’s being brought up again, but I brushed it off.” She could feel JJ tense as she prepared herself to continue. “But he looked. He went out of his way, he let Voit get to him, and he looked. I told him it was taken care of and to trust you, and he didn’t.” Emily’s body froze, she knew that Luke wouldn’t be able to stop himself from saying something to JJ. She didn’t think he would go as far as to look at the site, knowing what it was, who it was about. She thought back to her last visit years ago, the way it made her feeling seeing herself and her friends on the screen before her.

“They updated it. It isn’t us anymore.” JJ curled into herself more, pulling one of Emily’s hands with her. “Injure. Jean. Fear. That’s what they changed it to. They rewrote it all and put me as the face. Me. My face, my body, my everything. The internet has evolved so much for a moment, for a moment I had to make sure it wasn’t actually me.” “He saw you.” “All of me. Emily, how many people have seen it? Why did he look? Why did he look deep enough to know it was focused on me.” JJ’s voice broke as tears started falling down her face again. “ I can’t look at him. I hate myself if even a sliver of skin is shown. I can’t go home, face my kids, my husband. God, my husband. He didn’t even know about it the first time and I can’t tell him about it now. I mean hell we barely talk unless it's about the kids. I know this is what he wanted, for us to fall apart. But I don’t know how much more I can take Emily.”

Emily wrapped her arm not tangled in JJ’s hair around the other woman’s waist, pulling her closer until most of her body was in Emily’s lap. She held her through the shaking and crying, until they were both still and breathing once more. Emily placed a gentle kiss onto JJ’s head, never once loosening her grip.

“It’s okay to fall apart. I’ll be there to help pick up the pieces. You know I’ve always had your back, in and out of work. Don’t let him make you second guess that. I’d rather you sleep on the couch in my office so I can help keep the demons away then locking yourself in here.” JJ sagged against Emily, her body finally relaxing after holding it all in for so long.

“We can never let him tear us apart. I don’t know what I’d do without you Emily.”

“Probably live in this office if they’d let you.”

“I would go home at some point. Can’t use the same 2 outfits forever, at least not around these people. God can you imagine what Garcia would say?” They both laughed, before holding onto each other even tighter.

“How about we camp in the office for one more night, then tomorrow we both have to go home at a decent time. Or at the very least, we have to make it one of our houses.”

“Are you claiming my couch already Emily Prentiss?”

“I’m sure Will wouldn’t mind the bed being a bit tighter than usual, your couch kills my back.” JJ turned to face Emily, the smile finally reaching her eyes even in the low light.

“We could kick him to the couch?” A matching smile graced Emily’s lips before she nodded.

JJ laid her head on Emily’s shoulder, pulling the blanket over the both of them. One more night wouldn’t hurt, wouldn’t ruin everything they had overcome. Wouldn’t make her question a decision she made years ago. Her eyes slowly closed, becoming heavier and heavier with every thought, the arm wrapped around her steady and tight. Keeping nightmares away.

#jemily #jennifer jareau #jj #emily prentiss #criminal minds #criminal minds evolution #criminal minds spoilers #mine #fic #jj x emily #anyways keep an eye out for a aesthetic type thing to come out for this too

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sarcastic-positivity · 1 year ago

Note

It was the middle of July and despite Tim’s aspirations as a kid, he did not, in fact, have a job that gave him summers off. As such, it was a miserable affair, getting to and from work. Usually Tim would be in an airy t-shirt and shorts but Jon had caught sight of his Hawaiian themed top last week and it had been a close thing to avoid being forced to go home and change. It would be a few weeks before he could get away with such a ‘blatant display of disrespect for work procedures’, as Jon put it, so here he was: sweating his ass off on the tube and praying to whatever god would listen that they’d fixed the AC at the Institute.

God never did like Tim.

“Christ above, does Elias want us dead or something?” Tim cried to the room at large as he dropped heavily onto his spinny chair. It was stifling. “What did we ever do to him, huh?? Did someone submit a statement about Bigfoot again?” He immediately started popping buttons on his ‘work appropriate’ shirt.

Sasha popped her head up from her cubicle and grinned at him. Her waist-length braids had been piled sloppily on top of her head and she looked about ready to topple over from the imbalance. She’d already shed her top layer down to a simple purple tank top but she still had a sheen of sweat on her brow that had her large round glasses slipping down her nose.

“Pretty sure it’s cause Gerry called him an old codger and compared him to the statement giver from the McGregor case last week. He’s out for revenge now.”

Tim wrinkled his nose. “What, the stuffy one with the cane who wouldn’t shut up about how the Tories are implementing a surveillance state?”

“The very same,” Sash confirmed, pushing her glasses back up with a hand. “Though I personally think Elias would be very pro Big Brother. Did I tell you he asked after my aunt the other week?”

“You told Elias about Matilda’s lung cancer?”

“That’s just it! The only person I told about that was you, and I’m pretty sure you didn’t run off to tattle to Elias.” She leaned forward in her chair conspiratorial and Tim couldn’t help but do the same. Sash was magnetic when she was like this. It had led to more than one rendezvous in their first year at the Institute. “I think he has cameras down here.”

It wasn’t the most insane theory she’d come up with, somehow. Just two months ago she’d followed Jon home because she didn’t believe he actually had a home; she’d thought he’d been sleeping in the Institute of all places. Besides, there was that feeling of being watched that pervaded this place. Still, Tim couldn’t help but laugh.

“I think we’d know if he had cameras, Sash. Did I tell you what he-”

“What fresh hell is this?” The voice from the doorway was flat and scathing and Tim immediately spun in his chair to grin at the intruder.

“Gerry!” He called happily. “I didn’t know you were coming in today!” He was wearing his signature black trenchcoat and a scowl that did things to Tim. Luckily for both of them, Tim was well guarded against Gerry’s scary-sexy goth vibe by virtue of sharing a flat with him. There were only so many times you could get a chub from simply looking at your roommate before your prick just gave up on the enterprise entirely.

“There’s a statement I need but this is fucking ridiculous.” His voice was as deep and rough as it always was but the angry edge to it managed to send a little zing down Tim’s spine. The days that Gerry showed up at work are always so interesting. “It’s at least 10 degrees hotter in here than it is outside. The fuck is Elias thinking?”

“Gonna rough him up for us, Ger?” Tim asked with a grin and Sasha laughed. “Stomp on him a little with those boots of yours? 10 quid says he’s into it.” Gerard shot him a look but there was a smile playing around his lips, pulling slightly at the snakebite piercings there. His makeup that day was the same as it usually was, eyeliner and three exaggerated lower lashes that made his gaze all the more intense. Thank god for the aforementioned Roommate Protection. Especially when Gerry’s eyes swept over Tim before meeting his eyes again and giving a mocking little smile. His eyes were slate grey and impossible to look away from.

“Projecting much, Stoker?” He asked in a low tone. It was teasing and Sasha cackled but Tim’s brain stuttered and properly died. What did one say when a hot goth implied that you maybe wanted him to stomp on you with his giant sexy boots? Especially when it was true.

“What, you wanna find out, Keay?” Tim shot back. That was good. Keep it light, let it plausibly pass for playful workplace banter – a little bit of light flirting to keep thoughts of the heat at bay. Gerry arched a brow at him, face betraying nothing but that same cool amusement. Sasha snorted and shook her head, turning back to her computer.

“You two are ridiculous,” she told them. Tim shrugged, eyes still on Gerry, and then Jon’s office door creaked open.

“Oh good, you’re here, Gerard.” Gerry’s eyes flicked away. “You said you needed the Anderson file?”

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Gerry said. He passed by Tim’s desk to take the file from Jon. Tim turned back to his desk. “By the way, your workplace is a HSE violation waiting to happen.”

“Yes, I am quite aware,” Jon said drily. “Make sure to get that one back to me by the end of the day. And not stinking of smoke this time, Gerard. I have more notes I plan to add to it.”

“No promises.”

・・・

Inevitably, it was Tim who had to go hunt Gerry down at a quarter to five to get the file back. Luckily the fire exit to the left of the stairs to the archives was conspicuously propped open by an unopened carton of cigarettes and Tim pushed outside into the slightly cooler summer air.

Gerard was lounged on the steps leading to the back alley, facing away from the door with the file open at his feet and a lit cigarette in hand. He’d tied his hair up sloppily, much like Sasha had hers, but it was so long that black sheets of it still cascaded down his bare shoulders. His trenchcoat had been completely abandoned, laid out on the step beside him, and he was left only in a crop top Tim had never seen before. It was made of a sheer grey material that matched his eyes and had no sleeves to speak of. Even worse, Gerry had a hand tucked under his shirt, shucking the top halfway up his chest. His alabaster skin shone in the dim light of the setting sun and Tim nearly took a tumble down the steps when Gerry tilted his head back to look back at him.

“What?” Gerry asked in a gravelly voice when he caught Tim staring. Tim opened his mouth to respond but he suddenly found himself incapable of speech. Gerry rolled his eyes and turned his head languidly back forward, lifting his cigarette to his lips. “AC’s broken inside but it’s barely any cooler out here. Don’t be a prude.”

That surprised a laugh out of Tim. “A- A prude?!” He choked out. Never in his life had he been accused of such a thing. And this, this was so far on the opposite side of the scale he wanted to laugh. Or cry. Gerry just blew a smoke ring.

“If you’re here for the file, it’s there.” He kicked at the manila folder at his feet and Tim could hear the wounded noise Jon would make if he were there. Right, Tim had actually come for a reason that wasn’t to ogle Gerry. Supposedly.

“Right.” Tim cleared his throat and picked his way down the steps so as to not step on Gerry. God, did his legs have to be so long? “This thing has gotta reek by now,” he said as he bent down for the file. “Pretty sure the boss man won’t be too happy with you about that one.” He turned back and around and Gerry quickly lifted his eyes. His eyes were a warm hazy grey, much like the smoke drifting around his head.

“Afraid of Sims then, are you?” He drawled. His piercings glinted as he grinned at Tim.

Tim rolled his eyes and made his way back up the steps. He very pointedly kept his gaze on the ground as he did so, enticingly bare torso be damned. “Everything’s a question with you,” he said. “‘Projecting much? Afraid of Sims?’ Just call me a bottom and get on with it.”

Gerry rasped out a chuckle right as Tim reached the top step. Tim hesitated but couldn’t help but glance back down behind him. Gerry’s head was tilted back, hair messy and top askew, and his eyes half lidded against the dying light behind Tim’s head.

“Now where’s the fun in that?”

He was sight to see, all stretched out and half clothed on the steps to the alley. Tim shook his head and turned back inside without another word. Gerry’s rapsing laugh followed him all the way into the archives.

Damn tease.

SPEECHLESS. SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP. THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I NEEDED AND MORE THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE HOLY SHIT IM LOSING MY MIND

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hockeylovee12 · 2 years ago

Note

Hi!! I saw u were taking requests so can I request an imagine where quinn is complaining to elias or jack or anyone abt how y/n is too clingy and hears and starts to get insecure and upset and he doesn't know what he did wrong and she just like ignores him?

-- 💗❤️💗❤️

Thank you for the request hope you enjoy! 🫶

After a 7-2 win over the Sharks and completing the season series undefeated against them Quinn and a few of his teammates decided to go out to a local bar. Quinn was told a few of the other guys girlfriends and wives were joining as well and when Elias went to ask Quinn if Y/N was planning on joining them Quinn just shook his head.

“Nah she’s working late tonight couldn’t make it to the game” Quinn tells him

“Is everything alright between you two?” Elias questions with a concerned tone

“I don’t know man she’s just she’s been really clingy lately I don’t know what to do I love her but it’s like lately it’s like I can barely breath at this point the rink is my escape” Quinn complains

Elias shoots him a sympathetic look.

“You can tell her it’s just a guys night I’ll back you up I mean we both know I’m not bringing anyone to the bar tonight” Elias

“Ya lucky you” Quinn says impulsively the only thing Quinn didn’t know was Y/N was on the other side of the wall waiting to surprise him and instead ended up hearing every word said.

Frustrated Y/N leaves without seeing Quinn and heads back to their shared apartment.

Once she arrives she heads to their bedroom and changes into her pajamas before starting to cry remembering the conversation between Quinn and Elias.

How could Quinn say those things about her. Was she really that clingy?

A few minutes of crying goes by when her phone beeps and it’s a text from Quinn

Quinny 💚- Hey babe going out with the guys I’ll be back late get home safe love you

Y/N nearly slams her phone on her bedside table and resumes crying this time with more thoughts running through her mind

If he loved me he wouldn’t have said those things about me

Why am I not good enough for him

Eventually Y/N wears herself out from crying and falls asleep.

———————————————————————

Around midnight Quinn unlocks his apartment and steps inside. He notices Y/N purse sitting on the coffee table and sighs in relief knowing she got home safe, especially after not responding to his text which she usually does.

Quinn walks to his fridge and pours himself a glass of water before walking to the bedroom where he finds Y/N curled up on the bed. Quinn grabs a blanket from the foot of their bed and drapes it over Y/N then places a kiss on her head before walking to his closet and changing into a pair of sweatpants.

Quinn then walks to the bathroom and finishes getting ready for bed before tucking himself in right next to Y/N and peacefully falling asleep.

———————————————————————

The next morning Quinn wakes up to Y/N gone. He yawns and checks his phone feeling grateful that Tocchett gave the team the day off. After spending around 10 minutes on his phone Quinn pulls back the covers and walks to the kitchen where he sees Y/N sitting at the counter sipping a cup of coffee.

“Good morning” Quinn says walking over to Y/N and attempting to places a kiss on her cheek to which she turns her head making his attempt unsuccessful.

“Is everything ok?” Quinn asks taken back by her response

Y/N chooses not to respond and continues sipping her coffee

“Are you mad because I went out last night without you come on babe it was guys only none of the other guys girlfriends went” Quinn lies

Y/N looks him straight in the eye before whipping her head back to avoid him

Quinn gives her a strange look before walking to the coffee machine to make himself a cup before taking a seat next to her.

“So I was thinking maybe you and I could go out to lunch today Kuzy was telling me about a great new spot that just opened up down the street from us” Quinn says to no response instead Y/N finishes her cup of coffee, gets up, places her cup in the sink and walks to their room slamming the door shut.

Quinn tries to rack his brain wondering what he could’ve done to make her ignore him especially when she’s been so on to him recently about spending time together

He pulls out his phone checking his calendar wondering if he missed a birthday or anniversary but there’s nothing.

He ponders over it while finishing his cup of coffee before placing his mug in the sink and walking back towards their room

He walks in and sees Y/N standing in front of the sink in the bathroom brushing her teeth

“Y/N is everything alright?” Quinn asks

Y/N doesn’t respond and continues with her task at hand after finishing she begins walking out of the bathroom but Quinn stops her

“Seriously Y/N knock it off tell me what’s wrong” Quinn says with a little more force in his voice

“Quinn move” Y/N says

“No not until you tell me what’s happening” Quinn says blocking the opening

“Why don’t you want to go out to lunch?” Quinn asks

“How about you take yourself out to lunch it’ll be a nice little break from me” Y/N says before pushing Quinns arm down and walking out of their shared bedroom and bathroom space leaving Quinn standing there.

#quinn hughes #canucks #nhl #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader

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lil-binuu · 8 months ago

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DRAFT: ELIAS PART 2

i am currently writing the real part 2 but it’s taken a lot of brainstorming and different drafts ~ i was gonna post this one but i’ve decided i’m not satisfied with it and not really happy with the plot so im changing a couple things but i still wanted to post this to get feedback! (i also may or may not delete this once the real part 2 is out)

Elias never wanted to be a leader. The thought of having so much power over thousands of lives made his stomach turn.

He always knew that he wasn’t right for the gang, wasn’t right for a leader, but the pressure from his father along with Elias’s desperation to make him proud, made him feel so stuck.

He wouldn’t say that he regretted joining the wraiths, Elias really admired the work his father - and his mother - did for the community. But he couldn’t help not feeling ready. He didn’t want to let so many people down, and it felt terrifyingly inevitable.

He had often wondered what his life would be like if he didn’t join the gang, and stayed on at college. But in the shadow of this thought, was the nightmare of why he joined in the first place. To see his father so absorbed in the gang, it draining the life out of him, Elias knew that if he let this happen then he would lose him completely.

The ceiling of the room was high, as if to make up for the fact that Elias could hardly breathe. The chatter that sprouted in the room faded as the warden pushed out of his chair and stood up to address the room.

“Before we start, I’d like to thank each of you for making your way here today. I’m sure many of you know how much it means to me for you to be here, as I’m also sure you know why you’re here.”

Elias’s body felt stuck, his eyes locked on the scene in front of him. He could feel the burning of darting eyes scanning his face.

“My son, Elias, was first recruited to the wraiths over a year ago,”

The words hit him like a wave trying to suffocate him.

“..and since then has worked hard for our cause.”

Elias tried to breathe. It only made him need air more. Air - he needed air.

“Along with this, he-”

“Could I -uh- get some water?” Elias interrupted.

The warden paused and stared blankly at his son for a few dreadful seconds.

Trying aimlessly to hold in a sigh, he muttered through clenched teeth “make it quick” before continuing his speech.

Relishing this temporary freedom, Elias slipped out the room. Closing the door behind him softly, trying not to disturb the meeting any further.

As he entered the empty corridor, his stomach dropped. He froze for a second.

Looking down the hall both ways, confused, Elias called out “Yn?”

After a couple dreadful seconds of silence, he rushed to the end of the hallway to look around the corner and call the name a second time.

Dust falling gently into your eyes caused them to water. Hardly able to lift your weak arms, you rolled over to your side, causing a strong wave of nausea to hit you. Breathing came with a foul stench, most likely from the old dumpster-mattress beneath you. You would try to sit up if your head wasn’t throbbing so viciously.

Taking a deep breath and looking around, you hear a rough voice speaking a room away. You feel shivers run down your spine, as you remember the man who held you at gunpoint and forced you here.

Whether it was your ringing ears or his slurred voice, you couldn’t make out the words he was saying.

The room looked neglected. Wallpaper peeling, dust everywhere and furniture moth-eaten. That was, of course, regarding the mattress; the only piece of furniture in the room. The room was entirely cleared out, leaving only glass shards and rusty nails that made a carpet for your zip-tied feet.

You felt a frighteningly desperate urge to run but moving even the slightest bit caused your body to shake uncontrollably.

You worried about what would happen to you, what this man wanted. What he was willing to do to get it.

Not wanting to let the panic take a hold of you, you breathed deeply trying to clear your mind from the worst-case-scenario thoughts. But you could barely hold them back, and tears pricked at your eyes.

Trying to swallow your emotion, praying that your hyperventilation couldn’t be heard, you wiped your eyes. You knew Elias, you knew he would do whatever he could to find you. You just had to trust him.

The worry on his forehead creasing as he watched over the security footage, Elias’s eyes turned a dark shade of anger.

“Shit”

He hissed under his breath.

Walking furiously towards him, “Elias what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The warden growled, “I’m doing all of this for you, you can’t just walk-”

“Yn’s gone.” Elias interrupted hurriedly, “They were taken by a man with a gun”

The irritated warden paused for a second, taken off guard. His eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

Elias showed him the cctv footage of the building as his father cursed the same reaction.

“When was this?” He demanded, replied with “Uhh, 7 minutes ago.”

The warden nodded, picking up his phone. “I’ll get a team ready” He told Elias before turning back towards the meeting room.

“What? No, I have to be looking for them!”

Warden scoffed, “No you’re-” Elias cut him off immediately, yelling back at his father.

Fury flooded his veins, exasperated because of all the times his father had held him back from doing something.

“You can’t expect me to just sit here, I’m going out there-”

“Not alone, you’re not.”

(yeah so i hate this lol and i’m rewriting all of it especially the plot so come back for the real part 2?)

#elias x reader #sakuverse #writing #zsakuva #fanfic

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peppymintdreams · 10 days ago

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What if Barista had the day off

have you ever wondered what would happen if Barista chose to just say screw it and stay home

Masterlist

The soft buzz of the alarm pulled Barista from sleep, a familiar, droning sound that usually meant it was time to start another busy shift at Brewhouse Café. They reached for their phone, squinting at the screen. 6:45 AM. Another early morning.

But something felt different today. The kind of heaviness that pressed down like a weight, urging them to stay under the covers just a little longer.

Barista stared at the ceiling, listening to the quiet hum of the city waking up outside their window. They should get up. Shower, get dressed, catch the bus. Same routine, every day. And yet... they hesitated.

One day off won’t hurt.

They knew they had a few vacation days saved up, and the café was usually fine without them for a shift or two. Plus, they hadn’t taken a break in months. A day off was starting to feel like something they deserved, not just a lazy indulgence. Besides, someone else could cover for them, right?

With a soft sigh, Barista reached for their phone again, this time scrolling through contacts until they found the manager’s number.

Barista: "Hey, I’m not feeling great today. I think I’m going to take a day off. Sorry for the short notice."

They hit send and felt a small pang of guilt, but it was quickly drowned out by the sense of relief that washed over them. The thought of just staying in bed, away from the noise, the customers, the grind of the espresso machine was too tempting.

And that was that. A decision made in a moment, but it felt like the right one.

——————————————————————

The Brewhouse Café was strangely quiet this morning. Elias leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, eyes scanning the space. He’d been assigned to check out this café because it was suspected of being a meeting spot for some Penance members. Just another recon job, the kind that always left him restless.

As he waited, Elias glanced at the empty counter. He hadn’t been here often enough to notice when the staff rotated, but something about today felt off. The barista who usually worked mornings wasn’t there.

It didn’t matter. Elias wasn’t here for coffee. He was here to get information, watch for anything suspicious, and then report back to Warden. Easy enough. But still, his eyes kept flicking to the counter, where someone else with an unfamiliar face was making drinks for a line of customers.

“Whatever,” Elias muttered to himself, forcing his attention back to the people around him. He couldn't afford distractions, not now.

The minutes dragged on, and Elias's unease grew. He scanned the crowd, looking for any sign of the Penance members his intel had mentioned, but nothing stood out. Maybe the tip was wrong. Maybe they’d already skipped town. Or maybe—

The explosion shattered everything.

One second, Elias was watching the door. Next, the entire front of the café erupted in a flash of fire and debris. Glass rained down like shards of ice, and the floor heaved under the force of the blast. The world tilted, and Elias was thrown back, his body slamming into the floor. His ears rang, and smoke filled the air, thick and choking.

He groaned, struggling to push himself up from the ground. His vision swam as he forced his body to move, instinct driving him forward even as pain screamed through his limbs. His hand reached for his gun, hidden under his jacket, but his mind was still reeling.

The Penance...they knew we were watching. They knew.

Coughing, Elias staggered to his feet, his heart pounding as he surveyed the destruction. The front of the café was gone. The once cozy shop was now a wreckage of twisted metal, shattered glass, and splintered wood. People were screaming, some bleeding, others running for the exits.

Through the haze, Elias noticed the barista, not the one he was used to seeing, but the unfamiliar replacement staggering toward the back, blood dripping down their face. Gritting his teeth, he made his way over, grabbing them by the arm.

“You need to move!” he yelled, the sound barely cutting through the ringing in his ears. He didn’t have time to play hero, but leaving anyone behind felt wrong.

The barista blinked at him in shock, too stunned to respond. They stumbled as Elias pulled them toward the exit, where the moonlight filtered through the thick smoke. Sirens blared in the distance, the first responders on their way.

Once outside, Elias turned back to the café. The blast was no small message. This was an attack, meant to do serious damage not just to the building, but to anyone inside. A warning from the Penance.

His mind raced, thinking about what could have happened. If things had gone differently, if the usual barista had been working today... Would they have been caught in the blast?

What the hell does it matter? Elias shook the thought away, trying to push aside the gnawing sense of relief that they hadn’t been there. He didn’t even know them. They were just some random person serving coffee. Yet, somehow, it mattered more than it should.

Barista sank deeper into the comfort of their couch, surrounded by a blanket and the soothing sounds of a nature documentary playing softly in the background. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting warm patches on the hardwood floor, and for the first time in months, they felt the gentle pull of relaxation.

What a perfect day to unwind, they thought, cradling a steaming mug of tea in their hands. They had almost forgotten what it felt like to take a day off, to breathe without the pressure of the café’s busy schedule weighing on their shoulders.

But as they settled in, a strange unease lingered just beneath the surface, like a whisper of a storm brewing on the horizon. They pushed the feeling aside, focusing instead on the soft, rolling waves of the ocean featured on the screen.

Hours slipped by until their phone buzzed, vibrating against the coffee table. Curious, Barista glanced down, expecting a mundane message from a friend or family member. Instead, their eyes widened at the notification.

Breaking News: Explosion at Stockton's Brewhouse Café.

Their heart raced as they tapped on the notification, the familiar logo of the news app illuminating their face in stark contrast to the warm light of the room.

No, no, no…

Barista felt a chill creep up their spine as they read the headline. An explosion? At Brewhouse? The café where they spent their mornings, pouring coffee and sharing fleeting conversations with customers was it really the same place?

Panic set in as they continued reading, the details becoming more horrifying with every line. Casualties were reported. Emergency services were on the scene. Photos began to load, each image more shocking than the last: the front of the café was shattered, glass strewn across the sidewalk, smoke curling up into the blue sky.

Barista’s breath hitched. It felt surreal, as if they were reading about a different world. A world where they weren’t supposed to be; where they weren’t supposed to be in danger.

What if I had been there?

The thought hit them like a punch to the gut, and they gripped their phone tighter, the screen flashing images of chaos and destruction. The man in the leather jacket—Elias—had always been a bit gruff, but he seemed like a good person, even if they hadn’t really gotten to know him.

Was he there? The question echoed in their mind, drowning out the noise of the documentary still playing in the background.

Suddenly, the reality of the day hit them all at once. They had chosen to take the day off on a whim, thinking it would be just another mundane break from the routine. But now, that decision felt monumental. They had dodged a bullet, and the weight of that realization settled heavily in their chest.

Feeling lightheaded, they stumbled to the window and peered outside, half-expecting to see the café still standing, the usual bustle of customers and baristas moving in and out. Instead, the street seemed eerily quiet, the normal sounds of the city muted as if the world itself was holding its breath.

Barista sank back onto the couch, still clutching their phone. They needed to reach out to see if anyone was okay, if anyone was still alive.

With shaking fingers, they typed out a quick message to their manager, a mix of fear and urgency driving each word.

After sending about a thousand messages the barista got no response. Barista glanced back at the news article, their heart racing as they continued to scroll. The comments below were a mix of shock and sympathy, people sharing their experiences at the café, their disbelief that something so terrible could happen in a place so familiar.

Barista felt the tears welling up, the gravity of the situation washing over them like a wave. They thought of the regulars, the baristas they worked alongside, the customers who came in for their morning fix. Would they ever feel safe there again?

Their heart raced with uncertainty gnawing at them. The café was part of their life, a second somewhat home where they felt connected to others. The thought of it being destroyed, the community shattered, sent a pang of sorrow through them.

Barista leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling, their mind spinning. They had no idea what would come next, but they knew that this was a turning point, a moment when everything shifted. They were just thankful they had been spared, but it didn’t feel like enough. Not when so many others were left in the aftermath.

The rest of the day was a blur, news updates rolling in and their phone buzzing with messages. They sat there, feeling both grateful and helpless, wondering how life could change in an instant.

Outside, the Moon continued to shine, but for Barista, the world felt dimmer. The café had always been a place of warmth and community. Now, it was a reminder of how fragile life could be, how quickly everything could turn upside down.

#sakuverse #zsakuva #peppymintdreamsproduction #elias zsakuva #sakuverse elias #zsakuva elias #elias x reader

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lizard-queen-izzy · 9 months ago

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Ok, until I finish my refs/design timelines, I'm just describing how the tma characters look in my head. Today's post is Jon. I'm only through s3 so it'll only go up to that.

Jon-

Pre-institute: longer short hair, yknow. Like past his chin but not past his shoulders, almost always pulled back somehow. Already light graying mostly at the front. Dark jeans, boots and loose shirts. He has a comfort hoodie and cardigan and he's always in one or the other. Always losing his glasses despite carrying backups.

Research Era: chopped his hair, still shaggy-ish on top, but cut close on the bottom. It still hangs in his eyes sometimes. Dark jeans or dark slacks. he has a pair of dark brown slide-on sneakers until he gets proper shoes. Either a nice fitting solid colour t-shirt or button up with his hoodie/cardigan. [He eventually buys a proper coat too] looses his glasses less, but also invests in a chain for them.

S1: hair chopped even shorter, trying to look professional. Glasses with the chain. Wearing button ups, a vest and a blazer. Dark slacks only and his fancy little shoes. Trying so desperately to mimic Elias so he's taken seriously. Sometimes he wears a tie. Poor guy is struggling in all the layers.

S2 first half: the blazer is gone. The vest is most days too. Too many layers make him itchy and remind him of the worms. Worm scars are still fresh and reopen sometimes. Dark slacks and still his fancy shoes. Glasses still on the chain. Hairs getting shaggy again and the gray has started to spread.

S2 second half: just his button up and cardigan, dark/black jeans and his slip-on shoes are back. Worm scars are starting to properly heal. Glasses are still on the chain but it's broken. Hairs properly hanging in his eyes most days, not that he notices, the gray is more throughout.

S3: first half: What the Ghost shirts and his cardigan. Sweatpants or pajamas. Fuzzy socks/slippers. Worm scars are still fairly prominent but closed up. Fresh burn scar on hand from Jude and healing cut on his neck from Daisy's knife. Hair is back to pre-institute length and usually in a half up/half down situation but now with the added grown out undercut. Glasses live on his head or on his shirt 80% of the time.

S3 second half: return of the button ups but also return of the hoodie/cardigan. Dark/black jeans and his slip-on sneakers. He doesn't wear his glasses most days, he doesn't really need them anymore. Hair is slightly longer and more grey but not quite past the shoulders yet. Worm scars are super faded but still there [he got moisturized for a month, I imagine that probably helped] hand scar is still fairly bad, but also looks better than it should for how recent it is. Same for the scar on his neck.

#tma #the magnus archives #jon sims #jonathan sims #character description #jarchivist #savemejarchivist #im rolling him around in my head

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echantedtoon · 8 months ago

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Until Death Do You Vow Ch10 Objections

(Warnings: Mentioning of death, mentioning of Taylor's family Life.)

You blinked at the sudden difference in light and automatically held up a hand to shield your eyes- Only to stumble forward when Elias took your hand and pulled you forward into the room. You stumbled almost tripping forward face first, but managed to stand upright and blink taking in your surroundings. And you were pretty stunned by what you saw.

Heels walked over a tattered red carpet through the dim cavernous room. The room certainly was massive and your eyes only widened more as you took in more and more of the surroundings. A long table was near the center of the room full of extravagant dishes, old slightly dusty wine bottles, crystal glasses, silver cutlery, and of course the wedding cake Elias decorated up to look as if it Should belong at a Hollywood party. The smells hit your nose and you almost stumbled from how delicious it was. Did Elias really make all of this himself? The room was decked out in white and all the flowers you mentioned were placed carefully everywhere minus the giant bouquet in the middle of the room on a small bit polished table where Elias seemed to be leafing you. But you jolted when you heard the first sounds. The first whispers.

With each step you took you heard the echoed sounds of whispers, murmurs, cheers, and sobs despite no one besides you two being in the room. Are these also visions? Maybe some of Elias's memories of previous weddings he's seen recreated for his own? Who's going to officiate? Don't tell you Elias resurrected a ghost priest. The room was a glowing blue that matched Elias's colors and you briefly wondered if he did that on purpose to match himself. All too soon you were stood in front of that makeshift alter and dread really sunk into place. WHERE WAS TAYLOR!?

"Welcome all." You jumped as a deep man's voice with a southern accent you've never heard spoke out. The other whispers vanished and ...organ music started playing?? you stared at Elias just smiling widely. "Family and friends, thank you for coming to partake in this joyous occasion." Elias's mouth didn't move so he wasn't the one talking but he must've been making this voice manifest from somewhere. "Today we are gathered together to unite Elias Gallagher with his beloved, Y/n L/n."

As if mocking you, a clash of thunder overhead sounded out just as the disembodied voice said your name rain pounding harder as a lump of dread formed in your throat.

"Long has he suffered and now long shall be be overflowing in joy. Let the memories of betrayal, of murder, of waiting-" you flinched at the word 'murder'. "-be washed away like leaves in a flood. Love has triumphed!"

You swallowed but the lump was still there. Hands shaking so much your bouquet was threatening to drop from your hands. Although Elias probably mistook your fear for pre-wedding jitters or something.

"Do you, Elias Gallagher, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? To live with her in matrimony, in love, comfort them, honor and keep them? In sickness and in health, in sorrow and joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, now and for all time?"

"I do." Elias looked so happy for this moment it made a pit form in your stomach.

"And do you, Y/n L/n, take Elias Gallagher as your lawfully wedded husband? To live with her in matrimony, in love, comfort them, honor and keep them? In sickness and in health, in sorrow and joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, now and for all time?"

You froze to the spot. Mouth dry. Throat tight. Stomach dropping. Ice in your veins. You weren't ready to say yes. This was way too soon! You liked Elias sure. He was cute, kind, understanding, and maybe if things were different it'd be a different story but this was moving way too fast- WHERE! WAS! TAYLOR?! He should've been here by now! You had to stall more for time! Think! Think! Think of something!! You jolted up as an idea popped into your mind.

"W-WAIT!!"You managed to force our taking Elias off guard.

"Dearest, what is it?"

"Uh....W-We're forgetting important parts of the ceremony!," you quickly spat out making him blink again.

"Wait. Really? Oh dear. I wasn't aware! What are we missing?" He looked around trying to figure out if it was something about the room that was amiss.

"Uh...T-THE VOWS! YEAH! A-And the presenting of the rings!"

Elias blinked back to you but smiled at you. "Oh but we've already recited them dearest and we're already wearing the rings."

"Yes but it's only right we do it again! T-To be official!"

He hummed again and nodded. "Very well then!"

You sighed in great relief as the slightly bloodied ring was slipped off the hand Elias held and it was like a weight was taken off your soul. Maybe the pact between you two was temporary broken by him willingly breaking it under the guise it'd be reinstated after the vows? Whatever it was, you were finally free...for now.

"I vow to lift all of your anxiety and regrets for it is within my power for as long as you remain in these walls." Elias spoke with a wide grin. "To have you the same passionate way you had promised me. Because now...Now even death won't do us part."

You gulped thickly and uneasy. "Um...B-Bind our blood in ceremony a-and let me share your name." You shakily mumbled out trying to remember anything that you could say to stall for time. "Under the stars of the heavens, I solemly s-swear, that this hand will always be k-kind and never cruel. T-That my voice will only speak truth. That this life is now f-forever yours. Now as yours is m-mine." You gave an inhale looking around. Where WAS Taylor?! "B-Bind our souls to infinity and I will p-promise you love and dev-votion through s-sickness and health and beyond the realms of d-death. I-I will love you in all your forms now and forever. T-Through several lifetimes and back. F-From now to infinit-ty. U-Unyielding. Untainted. Und-deniable. With this voice I pr-romise you my love and heart."

Elias smiled wider pleased with your sappy vows and your pupils shrank at the ring he again held up-

"W-Wait! Elias, shouldn't someone asks I-If anyone objects first?" He looked confused. "It's tradition after all."

"Oh. Well I suppose you're right! It's only proper."

"If anyone has any objections to this union-" You jumped again as the disembodied southern voice spoke out. "-speak now or forever hold your peace."

You knew no one would say anything. It was only you and Elias there. Elias wouldn't object to his own wedding and you didn't know what would happen if you did! There was no one else here-

C R A S H!!!

The old doors to the ballroom flew open hitting the walls and startling you both into looking over. The bouquet dropped to the floor.

"YEAH! I HAVE A FEW OBJECTIONS!!"

"Who-?!"

Elias barely had time to get the words out before you beamed brightly at the figure fast approaching. "TAYLOR!!"

The other man quickly approached you both panting heavily and soaked from the storm still thundering outside. Aside from the angry footsteps there was only you three there, and you've NEVER been more happy to see Taylor in your entire life.

"Tha-That's right!," he choked out between breaths of air from probably running all the way here. "T-This has T-To *gasp* stop! I-..." A guilty look crossed over him. "I should've said something ages ago!"

For a long moment there was silence aside from Taylor's wheezing. Elias looked Taylor up and down slowly seeming flaggergasted and shocked to see him. "My dear." Elias slowly looked at you. "Is this the spirit medium you've been talking to?"

You nodded smiling and feeling a great wave of relief with you. "Yeah! That's him! His name is Taylor Potts though."

His floating head snapped back in frustration at Taylor. "Taylor, what's your purpose to interrupt the ceremony? Speak now!"

Taylor also looked annoyed at the ghost and almost growled as he pointed. "Oh I've got news for you Gallagher! All of THIS-" His hands flew out gesturing at the entire room. "-was just a dumb attempt to find a ghost and now I've put my best friend in extreme danger! We didn't actually believe you were here but I was desperate! So stop this! We're too young for marriage, we're just college students and we've got our whole lives ahead of us!" Taylor's breath shook as his arms dropped to his sides as his eyes turned to you. "Elias, if you want to be mad at someone be mad at me...Y/n, I am so sorry! I should've been here the entire time I-"

He fell silent and Elias looked surprised when you just reached out and grabbed Taylor's shoulder with a big grin. "Taylor, it's ok. You're here now and that's all that matters."

Elias still stood silently as he watched Taylor's body jolt from your touch before his face flooded a red, and that got the ghost frowning again. "Y/n...W-We just need to go home now. It's over."

"Now just wait a moment," Elias spoke up making both of you look at him Taylor scowling. "Y/n, can speak for herself. I've provided plenty of opportunities-"

"Yeah! After you ignored her explaining it wasn't a real proposal and you ignored it!," Taylor's fervor came back as he glared at the ghost. "Besides don't you know what rushing into marriage does to people? What if it turns out you two don't even like each other or can't stand being in the same room tomorrow?! I don't know about you, Elias, but have you ever had to see your parents fight behind closed doors?!"

You looked at Taylor shocked and Elias seemed too stunned to say anything to Taylor's blunt words.

"Rushed, unhappy marriages lead to DIVORCE," He put emphasis on the word lightly trembling under your hold. "Maybe your parents got along, maybe not. But if this was a normal wedding between you and Y/n, you'd be waving a giant red flag big enough for the state to see! Mom and Dad tried to pretend everything was fine when I was growing up, but I wasn't stupid." His breath shook. Eyes looking down. An edge in his tone. "I saw the exhaustion on their faces. I heard what they said to each other. No one deserves that."

There was again silence for a long moment as Taylor sniffled and blinked as you held up a small napkin to him, quickly swiped off the nearest table to you and offered to him. You smiled gently and only silently offered it to him being unsure of what to say or do otherwise. He took it silently and proceeded to remove his glasses to wipe at his face. Elias had fallen silent again only watching with wide eyes.

"Besides," Taylor spoke after a while. "After a while..I realized I was j-jealous!"

Elias again looked stunned as a realization came over him. You just looked confused. "Jealous? Of what?"

"Of me I assume," you looked back to Elias blinking, "There seems to be a rival suitor vying for your affections."

"WHAT?!"

"It's true!" You looked back to Taylor stunned. "I really, really like you and I think you're great! I-I wanted to tell you for a long time. Since practically the day we met! But-.." He hesitated looking down in shame. "You were already taken and then hurt by Ian. I didn't want to put All that on you. Besides you were a good friend who supported me in everything! I didn't want to mess that up!...*sigh* But I guess I messed that up anyways."

You stood there shocked, stunned even. Taylor liked you this entire time?! You had no idea. He looked so guilty confessing to you. Not in the guilty way Ian did keeping important info from you, but the kind of guilt that was honest.

"That's a very sad story, Taylor." Elias was the first one to break the silence speaking slowly. "How could I not be moved? But Y/n got to know the real me, and I think her heart opened up."

"Oh, come on." Taylor looked annoyed and deadpanned at him. "I get that you're lonely but trying to convince her to marry you is ridiculous!"

"Taylor, please. Where we go from here is up to Y/n to decide."

"Actually I thought about that." That certainly caught both off guard and turning to you surprised as you raised a hand, but looked at Elias. "But first I need you to answer something. Elias, do you know what caused the curse that caused your family's deaths?"

Elias looked stunned but a flash of realization hit Taylor. "I-.." He opened his mouth before closing it, shaking his head and looking down. "None of the deaths were connected, at least not to my knowledge, and contrary to popular belief, I did not orchestrate their demise. Im not a cruel person and I hope you can at least attest to that after tonight."

"I don't think that at all," you assured him holding up a hand. "But Taylor and I had had some theories. Tonight I had some visions of your past." Again the ghost looked shocked. "Two things stuck out to me. The first was Violet and how uneasy you felt whenever she was around. Memories of her would leave me disoriented and scared for my life. The second was the talk between you and your father about the shattered mirror." At this both me perked up. "Did you know that in a lot of cultures breaking a mirror is bad luck? And you mentioned that all of your siblings blamed you for it."

"I..." Elias sighed defeated. "Yes. I was simply admiring myself in the reflection when one of them came to snatch it from me. I tried to keep it safe for my grandmother but .."

"Six against one isn't fair!," Taylor barked in agreement. "And I don't think your parents took your side either."

"Not to mention that the mirror was meant to be a wedding gift, but it couldn't be given to any of your siblings spouses because it was shattered and it was never fixed." You mumbled thinking I'm deep thought. "I think your strong feelings for the mirror inadvertently caused the curse. Does that make sense Taylor?"

Taylor jumped as you looked at him. "I mean..Ugh." he sighed. "Yeah. I guess that's as good theory as any."

"So...Even my own death.." Elias shakily looked down at his own hands

"Actually if we're going by Y/n's e explanation, your death wasn't caused by the curse." Taylor hummed in thought rubbing his chin. "You and Violet weren't even married yet and the whole murder thing was premeditated. Y'know the total opposite of a curse." He shook his head crossing his arms. "You were so desperate for love you decided to ignore all the red flags she was waving!"

Elias didn't answer for a long moment but he inhaled and closed his fists. "I-I see....So if I had p-proceeded with the ceremony.." a look of horror dawned on his face. "Then she took would've died of the curse.." An honest to gods sniff escaped Elias that had your heart sinking. "The ..I'll never have my wedding even if death."

You felt really bad for Elias, but you didn't want to die for him. Even if he was one of the sweetest guys you've met.

Taylor hummed further in thought before slowly nodding. "Actually there might be a way around this." You looked back to him and raised a brow. "If we're right about the mirror needing to fulfill its purpose as a wedding gift, then all Elias would have to do is gift you the mirror after the ceremony."

You stared at him blankly. Elias looked up at him wide eyed. "......What?"

"Look... I'm..Sorry, Elias. I.. shouldn't have barged in and vented all that stuff that didn't have anything to do with you," Taylor reluctantly apologized to Elias which shocked the ghost and you. Taylor looked at you guiltily. "And Y/n....I'm sorry for everything. I should've been here."

"It's ok..But where did you get the idea of me still getting married?' You stared at him raising a brow. "I thought you didn't like the idea of me getting married to Elias."

"Trust me! I'm like Ninety five percent certain this would work! Trust me!" He sighed. "Besides.. He's right. I shouldn't make the decision for you. You should have the right to decide what you want."

Elias also slowly nodded. "Then we're in agreement. I..also apologize. I've been acting rather selfish all night. It was not right of me to push my wants and desires onto you, and if you shall refuse...I-I will accept whatever choice you make."

You stayed silent for a long, long moment. F/c eyes slowly looked over Taylor that still looked really guilty about this entire situation, and then over to Elias who still stood there looking down awkwardly and you noticed he still wore the ring he mistook you had given him. The two men before you remained silent as you stood there and thought it over... before an idea came over you.

"Actually, I think I have a third option that'll benefit all of us AND fix the curse once and for all."

Both were silent. A mix of confusion as they looked at one another before Taylor shrugged. "And what's that?"

"It's bad luck to break a mirror right? Then let's just get it repaired."

#the groom of gallagher mansion #thegroomofgallaghermansion #tgogm #Until Death Do You Vow #taylor potts x reader #taylor potts #elias gallagher x reader #elias gallagher

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