#sorry colling you look the worst

[aester]

ok here's my hc for the tmagp cast. All of them are tired, none of them get enough vitamin D, none own more than 3 shit outfits, Alice gets dress coded for not wearing proper attire but Colin doesn't, only Lena has her ID on her at all times, Celia has a proper tea set and Gwen wears only silk shirts, Sam stopped cutting his hair regularly after quitting his last job. Alice has been here the longest aside from Lena and avoids the sun like a vampire now.

[bakageta]

Finally finished a fic based off of one of @venomficprompts's many, many prompts! It's technically a follow up to an earlier fic, but I don't think it's necessary to read the first (though it'd be cool if you did).

Sharing Songs T, Gen, 1.9k words Eddie Brock & Venom Symbiote

They do end up stopping by the pet store on the way home, but only because Eddie is cat sitting while Anne and Dan are on vacation and he needs to get more kibble. Venom doesn’t look at any of the cat furniture, and Eddie doesn’t comment on the faint urge to go down the aisle where the scratching posts are.

Are we not going to feed Mr Belvedere again? Venom asks as they turn towards their apartment instead of Anne’s townhome.

“Nah, not til tomorrow.”

Should we get a cat?

“Huh? Why?” Eddie wishes for a moment that they were at home where he could send an incredulous look directly at Venom. “You want a scratching post that badly?”

No! I will eat the couch! They poke his flank from within hard enough to make him stumble. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Eddie soothes. “Why do you want a cat then?”

I like the texture, Venom says, ruffling against his nerves and deadening the result of their vicious poke.

“Yeah, Mr B is really soft.”

That too, but the sounds he makes feel very nice. Like this. Briefly, Venom makes a buzzing rumble against Eddie’s abdomen. It’s like an internal version of a cat’s purr, and Eddie remembers how Venom’s story-calling felt against him an hour or so ago.

“You still want to listen to some music when we get home?” He asks as he turns the corner and heads into their building.

Of course. Venom’s voice is eager and the phantom feeling of their grin curls into being over Eddie’s face.

“Alright, any preferences?”

“No,” Venom materializes over his shoulder and takes the bag of cat food from him as soon as they get inside the apartment. They sit the kibble directly in front of the door so that Eddie would be unable to forget it when he leaves tomorrow. “Pick something you like.”

“That’s a problem.” Eddie starts flipping through his modest vinyl collection. All that remains are his absolute favorites; the rest had been sold shortly before his run in with Venom. “I like them all.”

“Then pick the best one.” They reach forward with a tendril and Eddie cups it in his hand. It’s not that Venom won’t be careful, but they have a hard time judging their strength against objects they’ve never handled before.

“So impatient,” Eddie grouses as he flips through his singles with his unoccupied hand until he comes upon one near the back. “Bohemian Rhapsody” by Queen. A song that is embedded into the cultural consciousness of most of the English speaking world and notable for its multiple, unique sections. Perfect for introducing an alien to a range of music.

Venom is unexpectedly quiet as Eddie sets the record onto the platter. He can feel their attention, all their focus on the what and the how of his actions.

“If you wanna do this while I’m asleep, just be really, really careful,” Eddie cautions as he settles the player’s arm into place and starts the platter spinning. “Like with Anne’s glassware.”

“Of course,” They mutter, lightly offended. “But why–”

Venom cuts themself off as Freddie Mercury’s duplicated vocals shine out of the speakers.

At first Eddie is too focused on his symbiote’s reaction. Will they like it? Will the music strike that terrible sweet spot and claw at the bond between them? Or, perhaps worst of all, will Eddie’s music not mean anything, just a pale imitation of Venom’s own heart-deep story-calling?

Stop worrying, they chide in Eddie’s auditory cortex. Just let me feel what it means to you.

Easy for you to say, he thinks back. But then the introduction fades into piano, Freddie Mercury leads in softly, and Eddie remembers road trips.

He doesn’t remember the first time he heard “Bohemian Rhapsody,” doesn’t remember when he learned the lyrics well enough to sing along, but Eddie does remember belting it out at the top of his lungs along with his college friends as they rolled down the interstate. The four of them had been young and invincible, ready to right the wrongs of the world with their writing. 

At the time, the content of the song hadn’t mattered, just the build and the power of the guitar, the companionship of his friends, and the joy of people singing together. He recalls the wide grins and laughter they’d shared as the song wound down and the next song on the cassette started playing. It had been a beautiful time in his life.

Eddie's mind drifts to Venom. They're half caught in his memories and half webbed through his skin and he can feel them shift within both. For a moment he tastes the bright sun and chilly breeze of his youth. A wide grin spreads across his face. His heartbeat picks up. Venom is with him, as if they always had been, hanging their head out of the driver’s side window like an enthusiastic dog. Eddie’s college friends keep speaking, conversation gone indistinct with time.

Eventually, six minutes or so later, Bohemian Rhapsody winds down. They’re laying on the floor in front of the speakers. Normally it would be miserable, but Venom is out and padding Eddie’s back like they never do when he tries to do the yoga Mrs C has recently decided he should do.

Because yoga is boring. We are already flexible enough.

“Yeah,” Eddie grunts as he flexes himself into a sitting position, “because you’re fucking around in my joints.”

If I did not fuck around in your joints you would have arthritis, Venom points out, primly.

“I didn’t say I don’t appreciate it, just Mrs C is trying to help, y’know?”

Whatever, do you have more music like that? 

Eddie laughs, short and breathy, “There’s not anything else like Bohemian Rhapsody.” But he stands up and ambles back to his record collection. It’s true that Queen’s ballad is unique, but it’s not the only song Eddie has associated strong memories with.

They spend the rest of the night listening to Eddie’s albums, reliving some of the best times of his life and some of the worst. But even the bad memories were made bittersweet with Venom alongside him. They back him up, assuring him without words that he is too good for the boy who broke his heart in highschool and that even if he and Anne’s planned wedding song stings, it’s still a good song.

"Does the YouTube have music?" Venom is small and cradled in the crook of Eddie’s left elbow with a tendril reaching towards his pocket and the phone inside. 

"Yes, the YouTube does have music," Eddie confirms fondly. 

"Show me?" Venom’s tendrils have slipped his phone out and, as Eddie settles into bed, they shove it in his face.

By the time he's navigated to the music section of the app, Eddie is half asleep. Venom engulfs his phone–so the light and sound won't keep him up–along with the hand holding it–so they can use his fingers to navigate the touchscreen.

"Plug it in," Eddie tells them muzzilly as he falls asleep completely. 

That night's sleep is the best that Eddie’s gotten in a long time, which is impressive because Venom had taken to maintaining his rest like it was their job. The whole night is warm and soft and flowing. Eddie doesn’t remember if he dreams, though that isn’t unusual, but he’s well rested when he wakes.

Eddie’s hand is still around his phone and embedded in his symbiote, who is in turn clutched to his chest. He feels Venom flowing across his knuckles in intricate patterns and textures. 

“You have a good night?” Eddie’s in awe that the sentence doesn’t even come out a little sleep garbled. 

YesEddie. TheYoutubehas. So Much Music. Venom’s mental voice staggers stiltedly into Eddie’s perception.

“What?” The volume down button is easy to find even when he can’t see it and Eddie wastes no time holding it down until Venom stops squirming around his fingers.

I have been listening to The Beatles’s Love, Eddie. A tiny face forms on the blob encasing Eddie’s hand, eyes squinting contently and little zipper teeth lined neatly into a smile. It is eighty-six minutes long, Eddie. It sounds like that brownie you had in college felt.

“You got high off of The Beatles?” 

There's a beat of silence while Venom collects their thoughts. "Yes."

“Huh.” A thought occurs to Eddie at that moment as he considers what his symbiote is telling him alongside what happened the night before. Mr Belvedere’s breakfast would definitely be late, but… “Do you think we could get high off of The Beatles?”

“Oh, yes, Eddie.”Venom doesn’t hesitate. “We very much could.”

“Awesome.” Eddie wriggles around on his bed until he’s face down, pillow over his head, and his forehead on top of his crossed forearms so his nose isn’t smushed into his mattress. Symbiote mass builds up on the back of Eddie’s head, spreading like an ooze over his scalp, ears, and jaw. When the secondary plasma on his head joins Venom’s primary volume still on his hand and around his phone, they turn the sound back up and start the album over.

The album starts off familiar, if a little weird because Venom is transmitting the audio into the bones of Eddie’s skull as well as his ears, but there’s enough difference to make Eddie wonder. In lieu of an explanation Venom dumps the first paragraph of a Wikipedia page into his brain–apparently it’s a soundtrack to a Cirque-du-Soliel show–and tugs Eddie away from his interpretation of the music and into theirs.

There were words being sung, but to a symbiote very few had any meaning. Just love, Love. The back tone builds subtly and the vocal melody drones and their whole being jangles into rhythm over discord. They are a heartbeat, red and rushing, steady. Fighting claw in meat, tooth in bone. And then drawn out into quiet space and strings.

Eddie knows the strings. The melody and refrain of the song soothe with familiarity. It’s sad, cleaning, joining. He/she/they aren’t alone. Venom clings and wraps and covers him away. More rhythm, a different pulse, drawing together, bouncing across space. A sea of stars seen in bursts and jolts. Tasted. Heard. Static, a building tone, longing.

Together, they are together. They are holding each other. Known.

And they soar. Imagery pulls from both of them. Eddie sees layers of pale clouds scudding in parallax across blue-green-yellow-sweet skies. People dance, rich and savory. They see, they see, they see, they taste-feel-know-learn. Their/his world is slow and easy and relaxed and together, always together.

Instruments gain smell, gain taste, gain texture. Sharp floral percussion, tangy electric guitar, smooth strings. A cat flies through the sky on fur-feathered wings. A bird digs with broad shovel-claws. Horses swim in cresting waves. 

Sound plucks across them. Bouncing, rolling, bounding. Stroking, pulling, soothing. Gripping, dragging, grounding. They feel it together, taste it together, see it together, sing it together. Together.

Eighty-six minutes later, Eddie rolls over, off of the bed and onto the floor.

“Wow.”

Yes.

“Yeah.” What would another album sound like from Venom’s perspective? Pink Floyd maybe?

We still have to feed Mr. Belvedere.

Eddie curses, throws some jeans on, and trips over the bag of cat kibble on the way out of the apartment.

[first-edition]

Physical Pain

Spencer reid x reader

She / her/ hers

Cw-mental illness, breakdown, crying, alcohol, touching (non sexual) fluff and angst

Summary

All her life y/n has hated being touched and this has stemmed from being both abused and neglected by her mother when she was growing up then being sexually assaulted in foster care at age 16, when the BAU take a case that’s involved with y/n mother spencer calms her down with his touch.

Spencer sits at his desk doing mazes in a book jj got him for his birthday one year. “What are you doing?” A voice says he sighs and looks up seeing y/n “I can’t figure out this stupid maze page.” He says annoyed.

“How many have you done?” She asks “none this is the first page and I can’t cheat jj ripped the pages out.” He replies “wait is this the same book jj got you for your birthday 3 years ago?” She says laughing slightly

“Don’t-“ “dr reid is the smartest man alive and he can’t figure out a little maze.” She replies “oh okay It’s a level 10 maze book if you’re so cocky you do it.” He says handing her the pencil she takes it being carful not to make contact with his fingers she leans over the desk and puts the pencil on the paper and easily solves the maze.

Spencer’s eyes look up at her in shock “wha-h-how did you do that?” He says “do it backwards” she says putting the pencil down. JJ walks in holding up a file y/n sighs and follows her into the round table room.

“We’ve got a 41 year old woman who’s home was broken into her husband was killed she wasn’t home she has a strong alabi about where she’s was and she’s seen on camera during the murder at work. The killer has been targeting men between the ages of 45 and 60” JJ says showing pictures of the murder sight

“Okay so a female killer?” More asks “that’s what Vegas county police are saying.” She says nodding “Vegas?” Y/n say “yes” jj replies “whats the victims name “victim is Laurence colling and the wife is Lynda colling.” She says pulling up pictures.

Y/n freezes “y/n? You alright?” Hotch asks “that’s my mom.” I say “your mother?” Spencer asks “shes telling the truth Lynda colling also know as Lynda l/n was sentenced to jail after-“ “Please Don’t…Dont read it out loud..please.” Y/n says “I’m sorry y/n” Penelope says and stops reading “jj you debrief everyone in the plane wheels up in 30” hotch says

————

Y/n sits in the window seat at the back on the jet as everyone else is huddled around the laptop continuing the briefing.

“Hey.” Spencer says she looks up at him “you okay?” “I’m fine” “really? Because you haven’t said anything since you left…I brought you pretzels” he says sliding the bag over. Y/n nods and take it. “Thank you” she say to him he nods.

“May I ask you a question?” He says y/n nods “your mother? Is she why you don’t like physical touch?” He asks “yes” she responds “w-why?” He asks “my mother abused me and when someone found out I was sent to foster care and mother went to jail. After getting to foster care I met someone who I thought to be my friend but he wasn’t he hurt me as well and after that I vowed to my self to never be touched again I don’t like touch.” She says

Hotch walks back in the room from taking a phone call. “Every thing alright hotch?” Morgan asks “yeah that was the hotel they don’t have anymore more rooms open so we’re gonna have to double up.” He says “dibs!!” Penelope says holding into Morgan. “Emily and are roomies we gotta work on the files.” Jj replies

“Y/n you’re with reid.” He says “w-wait can’t I have my own room?” She says “there’s too bed and you’re adults” hotch says y/n sighs sitting back into the chair.

Arriving at the hotel y/n places her suit case on the side but stops “what wr-“ Spencer stops himself after seeing the single queen sized bed. “I’ll sleep on the floor” “wha-what no” “relax I’ve slept on worst places.” She says “no I’ll sleep on the floor you take the bed.” “Spencer.. seriously take the damn bed” she says.

————

Everyone walks into the crime scene and begins their job of going over the site and the details from the cops.

Y/n looks around her childhood home now trashed and not a single picture of her left. She stops hearing foot steps behind her knowing who it is. “You made quite the effort to erase me from home huh? I saw my room you painted over it.” She says turning seeing her mother “hi honey.” “Don’t call me that.” She says “y/n..I’m sorry”

“no I think it’s kinda funny how you abused me sent to a foster care that raped me everyday and then moved back home to act as though you never had a daughter! You’ve pretended like you had nothing !” She raises her voice “y/n!?” Hotch says walking in she ignores him and continues her rant.

“You never had a family that you were supposed to take care of!!? We’ll look what happened now ‘mom’ YOU FAMILY IS FUCKING DEAD AND YOUR DAUGHTER HATES YOU!” She yells at her mother “Y/n! That’s enough!” Hotch says “no she deserves to be hurt just a little bit-“ as if almost on cue y/ns mother wraps her arms around y/n in a hug a shock wave is sent through her almost painful.

“I’m sorry y/n I’m so so sorry” her mother pleads pure and utter panic surrounds y/n as everything as if it had happend this morning rushes into her mind. She shakes in fear and pain violently pushing her mother away and takes out her gun holding it up to her “DONT YOU EVER FUCKING TOUCH ME AGAIN!!” She screams tears streaming down her face shaking. “Y/N! Put the gun down now!” Hotch says “I’m sorry-“ Lynda says “you don’t get that You don’t get to be sorry!! YOU DONT GET FORGIVNESS!” Y/n says sobbing.

Hotch stands in front of her “give me your gun now!” He says hold out his hand “y/n you are shaking you are scared what she did to you in the past and in this moment was not okay..give me the gun.” He says she puts it in his hand. “Reid take y/n back to the hotel. Make sure she sleeps.” He says Spencer nods “come on” Spencer says she follows him.

Spencer closes the door as y/n walks in and immediately rushes to the bathroom turning the sink on and begins splashing herself with the cold water “y/n?!” Spencer says as she breaks down sobbing taking off her clothes to wash off her moms touch.

“Hey! Hey!” Spencer says and goes to her involuntarily touching her pulling her away from the over flowing sink as he turns it off.

“Stop stop it! You’re okay” he says his hands on her cheeks holding her knowing “it’s okay.” He says to a terrified sobbing y/n. Realizing what he’s done he carfully removes his hands from her. “I-I’m sorry y/n I didn’t mean to…” “out” she say hanging her head down low he gets up and walks out closing the door for her

Y/n lays in the bed awake dispite the late night hour “Spencer…” she says “hm?” He responds “you awake.” “Yeah” he says sitting up from the floor his face meeting hers perfect. Dimly lit from the red light of the alarm clock “you okay?” He asks

She dosnt say anything for a few second “c-can you come up here please.” She says finally “yeah yeah..” he says getting up almost tripping over his blanket as he gets into the bed next to y/n they face each other a small distance away not touching.

“You can sleep up here.” She says “are you sure if so I promise not to tou-“ he pauses when she moves up to him wrapping her arms around him cuddling close to him. Spencer hesitates but wraps his arms back around her letting her head lay on his arm 

[lunawritingspaceoxoxxx]

Unresponsive

Damiano David

 “You know I’m never too busy for you, amore, just because I’m in the studio doesn’t mean I’m not missing you.”

“Jennie, I know...I know, it’s just that I thought that we were going to spend time together when I  landed in Rome, just the two of us. Not bar hopping until 3 am and sleeping in until noon.” Sighing as you looked through your luggage. “You’re dating a rockstar, Y/N, what do you expect? Roses and midnight stroll, they’re going to continue to drink until the morning. That’s what I faced when I was still dating him, just be open with him, what’s the worst that could happen?” “Jennie, Damiano is different from your shitty ex. He’s like the sun, people gravitate towards him and they can’t get enough of him. Why can't I get just a slice of that?” Glancing towards a mirror, seeing your exhausted eyes looking back at you. “Y/N, if you’re insecure about this, why stay with him? It wasn’t like this before you came to Rome.” “Jennie, you can do me a big favor and shut the fuck up, we’ve been dating for almost two years now. It’s different when it’s a long distance relationship. This is my first relationship, I'm going to have my fears and concerns.” Y/N ended the call, tossing your phone to the side, flopping onto the bed.

 “Amore, good morning for once.” Speaking of the devil, He strutted through your hotel room, tackling you onto the bed as he peppered kisses across your soft skin. Y/N’s giggles filled the room as your previous mood melted away. “So we did filming early today, so we could spend some time together tonight.” Damiano said, pushing a cup of coffee in your hands. You gingerly took a sip of the overly sweet caffeine as you raised your eyebrow at him. “Seriously? No bar hopping tonight?” Damiano shook his head as he stripped out of his shirt and shoes, fully getting comfortable. “Why did you ask that? Did you want to go bar hopping instead?” You shook your head, frowning slightly as you glanced at your suitcase. “I really didn’t bring going out to dinner clothes at all, mostly shorts and tank tops. I thought you were too busy to spare some time for us.” You laid on his chest, tracing small circles onto his abdomen, enjoying this small time together. “You know I’m never too busy for you, amore, just because I’m in the studio doesn’t mean I’m not missing you.” Y/N stayed silent, holding back your tongue; you didn’t want to cause problems on your month-long vacation. You just wanted to spend any time together without fighting about petty small issues. Damiano gave you a knowing look as he sat up, facing you. “Something’s bothering you, lay it on me, tell me everything that’s been bothering you,

“Damiano, when you invited me here, I thought we were going to spend time together and show me hidden parts of Rome, but now I spent almost two weeks getting drunk and sleeping in, I could’ve done that at home. I could’ve been working on my art right now, but I'm here drinking lukewarm coffee to nurse my hangover and your version of spending time together getting wasted in my hotel room, am I wrong?” You crossed your arms and Damiano rolled his eyes, sitting up. “You could’ve been grateful that I’m inviting you out and bringing you along with my friends. I had to beg them to allow me to invite you along because according to them, you’re just an annoying little American who’s spoiled and cries about what you didn’t get.” Your eyes widened, bottom lip trembling as you tried not to cry in front of him. “And you know what, leave then and I’ll go back home. I’ll send back all of your gifts and clothes, if that’s how you really feel about me then and I won’t bother you with my presence anymore.” You began tossing random articles of clothing into your suitcase, trying not to show any emotions. You wouldn’t give Damiano that satisfaction of your heart breaking into a million pieces right in front of his eyes. “Amore..Don’t be like that, you know that I didn’t mean it..c’mere…” You shrugged off his attempted hugs, while you walked around and gathered your belongings. Your biggest fears came true, that he didn’t love you the way you did and you were a placeholder, until he found something better than you. “No, I don’t, you’re so closed off from me that I’ve just come to terms with it. I’m going to go and take a walk, to get out of this...room and when I get back, you better be gone or I’ll call the authorities and it won’t be fun after that.” You threatened before you slammed the door. You rushed through the lobby, ignoring the stares, cursing as you looked back. “Damiano! Leave me alone! I want nothing to do with you!” He chased after you, ignoring the growing attention on you two. “Amore-” “I’m not your love anymore! I’m done with you, this trip only brought out the true nature of yourself, you don’t want to put any effort in a relationship and you let it become toxic, so you can thrive off of your partner’s misery.” You shouted, jabbing him the chest as you finally let go of the tears, openly sobbing in the lobby. You were hurting from putting effort into something so toxic for you, made you question yourself. “And I can't do this anymore, for the sake of myself.”  Damiano tried reaching for you, but you moved from his grasp, hurt flashes across his eyes. “...I stayed in this relationship because I love you, I’m sorry for saying those cruel words. I didn’t mean those and I shouldn't have said anything like that, you’re the light of my life-” You rolled your eyes absolutely done with his sugar coated lies. “Damiano, you told me that six months ago, we argued about this before, I told you that we were done if you spoke out of line with me and look, it happened again.”

Damiano sighed as he knew you were right, you really never voiced your frustrations until you knew you were at breaking point. “I know I fucked up, but what can I do to make this better? I would do anything for you and you know this.” “I just want some time alone, to focus on myself and figure out what I want. I don’t think that I could deal with this on top of your daily nonsense.” Paparazzi stepped into the lobby, making you flinch as they took hundreds of pictures. “Let’s go back up to your room and we can discuss this, basta con le foto(stop with the photos).” He faced the paparazzi, cursing underneath his breath as he tried pulling you into the elevator, but you kept resisting until you slipped from his grasp and made your way onto the busy street. You knew you were being dramatic, but catering for someone and their needs was mentally draining especially if you’ve been sacrificing yours in the process. “Y/N! Wait!” You stopped, doing a full 360 as you came face to face with Vic. You kept pushing yourself as you duck between alleyways, cursing yourself in the process. You’re in a strange country, hundreds and thousands of miles away from home and you feel like you’ve broken up with your boyfriend and decided to make a fool of yourself. You wheezed as you looked around the plaza, before you just accepted your fate as you walked past the couples and children. You sighed as you flopped down onto the fountain's edge, rubbing your face. You sniffed as you broke down, sobbing as you finally just had enough of everything. 

You knew what you getting into, but you thought that you could look past all of the bad because Damiano was so exciting and always gave you a rush of adrenaline as they did scandalous things, but you could tell that he had the experience that you didn't have and that worried you to the point where it affected your sleep. You decided to explore the city, not wanting to stay in one place. You always wanted to travel the world and focus on your art, you felt at peace when you were in your studio and that love slowly faded as your relationship with Damiano started to take a turn. He was the one who pushed you to pursue this outlandish dream of yours and that started to become a reality when commissions started coming in and those same commissions were able to pay for this trip. “Congratulations, Y/N, you’re going to go home early and cry into that Ben & Jerry’s that you left for yourself.” The sun slowly went down as time went on, you decided to walk back to your hotel as you booked yourself a ticket back home. 

“Damiano, what happened today? Y/N is all-” He interrupted her with the wave of his hand, not wanting to get into everything.“It’s my fault, Vic, I knew I wasn’t treating her right and I brought her all the way here to get drunk and sleep in until noon. They knew that as well and called me out on it and now, they’re off somewhere.” Vic frowned at his current state, knowing the next couple of weeks are going to be rough. “Damiano, it’s okay, they’re probably going to come around sooner than later, they’ve dealt with you for this long. Why would they give up now?” Vic had a point, Y/N had dealt with his bullshit for so long and he thought that he was safe to do anything and everything, but this was before this trip, before they facetimed and wrote letters, everything was...different. Damiano didn’t have them closeby and ready to do anything with him, he went through the motions of his lifestyle and from the band’s perspective, Y/N seemed dramatic, but they’ve only seen the scandals of him getting into trouble. They’ve been there for his lows and highs, yet, he couldn’t say the same for them. “They are….they were so fed up and tired of my bullshit and they’re going home, I don’t know when though.” Vic narrowed her eyes, shaking her head as she couldn’t comprehend why he was here and not with them. “So you’re giving up then? You’ve worked through this before, why is it different than before? Do you not want to put any effort into the relationship?” 

When Y/N wanted out, they would do anything to do so. They leaned against the wall of their boarding area as they tried staying up, being mentally drained can affect your entire body. They tapped away on their phone as they replied to messages and concerns, planning their next collection piece. To Y/N L/N…. Their eyes got wide as they read through the invitation multiple times, trying to make sure that this was legit. They didn’t care if this was a smaller, unknown art museum that wanted to showcase unseen artwork. They knew that it couldn’t be anything, it had to be personal and true to them. They pulled out a random napkin, doodling some ideas down as they waited. ‘Damiano would’ve been proud of me…’ They thought as they quickly stuffed the napkin in their pocket. Were they really going to do this? Running away after one bad fight, maybe he was right, that they were overdramatic and needy. They wiped their eyes before they mentally prepared  themselves before gathering their things and got ready to depart. Maybe this will be good for us, time away and focusing on ourselves… 

[thatslikely]

Fred Weasley’s Day Off (Part 1) - F.W.

Fred Weasley’s Day Off- Fred Weasley x Gender Neutral!Reader [Ferris Bueller’s Day Off AU]

Warnings: only occasional mild language

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: this is Part 1 of my new 5 part series, Fred Weasley’s Day Off! You can find the series masterlist here. This part is going pretty similar to the movie, but as the story unfolds, I promise it isn’t a carbon copy of John Hughe’s masterpiece. Hope you guys enjoy :)

Just a reminder: Y/N is Your Name, Y/L/N is Your Last Name, and thoughts are in italics.

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @anchoeritic @probably-peeves @horrorxweasley @weasleywh0r3s​

if you want to be added to be added to my general (or this series!)’s taglist, send me a dm or ask!

If you haven’t seen Ferris Bueller’s Day off or just need a refresher, HERE all all the scenes included in this part in chronilogical order! I HIGHLY reccomend giving these a watch, for they make the situations a lot easier to understand (and they’re hilarious).

----

It’s a beautiful day today, temperatures in the upper 70’s. You can expect plenty of sun and not a cloud in sight. Right now, it’s 75 at lakefront, 74 at Midway, 73 at the O’hare.

“Arthur!” Molly Weasley screeched, beckoning her husband to Fred and George’s messy bedroom. The walls were plastered with large posters of their favorite bands and sports teams (mainly Fred’s), and an expensive computer sat on the desk in the corner. The door to the room was ajar, a frantic mother feeling a haggard Fred Weasley’s forehead.

“What's the matter?” Arthur asked, briefcase in hand.

“It’s Fred, for Merlin’s sake look at him!”

Fred laid slumped under the hand-knitted quilt like a corpse, his hair tousled and his chin unshaved. She continued, “he doesn’t have a fever, but his stomach hurts and he’s seeing spots!” Fred peeled his pained, umber eyes open, his weak gaze pointed to his suit-clad father.

A sympathetic Arthur reached for Fred’s cold and clammy hands, feeling them with a shudder. He’s got a bad cold, he thought, poor boy needs to stay home and rest.

“I’m fine, I’ll get up. I have a test today.” Fred leaned up slightly, his stuffy nose attempting to breathe. His baggy eyes drifted around the room, glazing the empty bed parallel to his’. “No!” Molly and Arthur Weasley stated firmly in unison, pressing his aching chest into the soft bed.

“I have to take it. I-I wanna go to a good college, so I can have a fruitful life.” Fred kept attempting to get out of bed, only for Molly’s gentle hands to guide him back down.

“Oh fine, what’s this? What’s his problem?” Ron leaned against the untidy bedroom’s door frame, his arms crossed, his face donning an unamused expression tinged with jealousy. He was looking daggers into Fred, who reciprocated nothing but a wink.

“He doesn’t feel well,” Molly stated, not pleased in the slightest with Ron’s distasteful demeanor.

“Yeah, right,” Ron rebutted with a scowl. The tips of Ron’s ears seared with resentment for his brother and anger at his naive and biased parents.

“Ronnie? Is that you?” Fred asked, his blurry vision making the outline of his brother near indistinguishable from the rest of his room. “Ronnie? I can’t see that far.” Fred leaned up in an attempt to see his brother, before falling backward with a dramatic moan.

“Dry that one out, you could fertilize the garden,” the younger ginger spat, tapping his toe furiously.

“Ronald, you get to school!” Molly demanded, vehemently gesturing for him to leave.

“You’re letting him stay home? If I was bleeding out my eyes you’d still make me go to school! This is so unfair.” Jealousy oozed from Ron’s clenched jaw like venom.

“Ron, please don’t be upset with me. You have your health, be thankful,” Fred said coolly. His eyes remained glinted with mischief, causing a furious Ron to storm off in a huff.

The concerned mother and father turned back to a wheezing Fred. Molly tucked him in tighter, cooing, “Now listen, I’ll be showing that new family some houses today, so I’ll be in the area. The office will know just where to find me if you need anything, okay?” A wave of gratefulness swept over Fred’s face.

“It’s nice to know I have such loving, caring parents. You’re both very special people.” Molly caressed Fred’s ashen cheek before planting a compassionate kiss on his warm forehead.

“G’bye champ,” Arthur said to his son before carefully shutting his door and walking to the garage.

They bought it.

Incredible. One of the worst performances of my career, and they never doubted it for a second. Fred peeled back the curtains blocking the beautiful view from his large windows with a smirk. He looked out the panes, admiring the gorgeous weather. How could I be expected to go to school on a day like this?

This is my ninth sick day this semester; it’s getting pretty tough coming up with new illnesses. If I go for ten, I’ll have to barf up a lung, so I’d better make this one count. Fred carefully adjusted his extortionate stereo, his fail-proof plan slowly piecing together.

Fred then stepped over to his desk, reaching for an old, hefty soccer trophy of his and some rope. The key to faking out the parents is the clammy hands. He started knotting the rope around the shiny golden award methodically. A lot of people’ll tell you to go for the old ‘phony fever’, but if you’ve got a nervous mother, you could wind up in the doctor's office. That’s worse than school.

“It’s a little childish and stupid, but then, so is high school.”

He scrupulously placed the trophy contraption behind his door with a satisfied nod, proceeding to the bathroom dressed in his grey and maroon striped bathrobe. Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.

Fred undressed and stepped into the steamy shower, quickly shampoo-ing his ginger mop into a spiky mohawk. He gave some thought about his plans for the leisurely day before removing the showerhead, gripping it like a microphone, serenading an imaginary audience, “I recall Central Park in fall. How you tore your dress, what a mess, I must confess…”

----

“Spinnet?” A greasy Mr. Snape drawled, spectacled eyes darting around the dingy classroom, illuminated with corporate fluorescent lights. “Spinnet?”

“Here!”

“Smith?” Silence. “Smith?”

“Present.”

“Weasley?” Snape asked, scanning the room for any signs of the irresponsible redhead.

“Weasley?” he repeated, uninterested and monotone. “Weasley?”

“Um, he’s sick,” a perky Cho Chang cut through the tense silence with a smile, “my best friend’s sister’s boyfriend’s brother’s girlfriend heard from this guy, who knows this kid who saw Fred pass out at Florean’s last night! I guess it’s pretty serious.”

“Thank you, Cho,” Snape said impassively.

“No problem, whatsoever!”

----

A robotic ring emitted from the phone next to Lee Jordan’s bed, disturbing the perturbed ambiance of the inert bedroom. The hypochondriac occupying the sheets clicked the silver ‘answer’ button with a shallow sigh.

“Hello?” George Weasley asked, his voice deep and groggy.

“Georgie, babe, what’s happening?” Fred’s exuberant voice questioned from the other end of the line, starkly contrasting his twin’s nonbelligerent energy.

“Very little,” he responded in a trance-like state, eyes spacing out at the blank ceiling, his mind nearly detached from his aching body.

“How do you feel?”

“Shredded.” Half-empty pill bottles and antihypertensive drugs lined the bleak nightstand to his left.

“Get dressed and come on back home. I’m taking the day off,” Fred imposed. He sat in a lounge chair, next to the turquoise pool, soaking in the bright morning sun, which starkly contrasted George’s dark atmosphere. He held a Brick to his ear, sipping an iced Hawaiian drink from a swirly straw. The only thing covering his body was a pair of floral swim trunks; plastic sunglasses rested in the ginger nest atop his head.

“I can’t stupid, I’m sick. I think I got food poisoning from Lee’s awful cooking.”

“It’s all in your head, George, come back home,” Fred said more firmly, taking another sip of the fruity drink in the souvenir cup.  

“I feel like complete shit, Fred. I can’t go anywhere.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Now come on over here so I can have a fun day off!” Fred demanded, hanging up the phone promptly. “Sheesh.”

George remained stiffly on the sheets, still as a statue, muttering, “I’m dying.” The phone chimed again with another call. Click.

“You’re not dying, you just can’t think of anything good to do!” Fred’s voice echoed through the dimly-lit room before the tone of an ended call took its place.

“Pardon my French,” said Fred to no one in particular, “but George is so tight, that if you stuck a lump of coal up his ass, in two weeks, you’d have a diamond.”

Fred quickly abandoned the pool deck, instead continuing random antics around the vacant house, whether it was (horribly) playing his centuries-old clarinet, or prank calling gullible freshmen claiming he had an impending kidney transplant. This was the life.

“I’m so disappointed in George. Twenty bucks says he’s sitting in his car debating whether or not he should go out.”

Fred had hit the nail on the head. George sat in his four-wheeled hunk of junk for minutes, muttering to himself, “He’ll keep calling me. He’ll keep calling me until I go home. He’ll make me feel guilty. This is ridiculous! Okay, I’ll go, I’ll go, I’ll go, I’ll go.” He turned the key of the run-down car, only for the engine to cough and heave. “Goddamn it!”

----

“Molly Weasley,” Molly introduced herself to the caller from her desk at the local real estate office. She held the landline phone in one hand, the other scratching numerals and figures onto some spreadsheets.

“This is Dolores J. Umbridge, Dean of Students. Are you aware that Fred is not at school today, Miss Weasley?” she asked punctually, her voice laced with irritation.

“Yes, I am. Poor Fred is home sick.”

“Are you also aware that Fred does not have what we consider an exemplary attendance record? He has missed an unacceptable number of school days.” Umbridge looked icy and collected on the outside, but deep down she was fuming with anger. “I have no reservation whatsoever about holding him back another year.”

“This is all news to me,” Molly replied, taken aback by Umbridge’s blunt threats.

“It usually is.” Dolores turned her attention to the hunky computer opposite her, ready with Fred’s academic profile, scanning the pixels signifying his number of absent days. When she finally opened her jaw to announce the number to Mrs. Weasley with a devious grin, she was horrified to see the number of days slowly ticking down to two.

“I asked for a car, I got a computer,” Fred said with an unamused but smug smirk as he typed lines of code into his computer back at the Weasley household, “how’s that for being born under a bad sign?”

“I can appreciate how this time of year, children are prone to taking the day off. However, in Fred’s case, I can assure you, he’s a very sick boy.” And with that, Dolores hung up on a sympathetic Molly, her tight brunette curls gradually frizzing from aggravation.

“I don’t trust this… Fred Weasley,” Umbridge confided to her secretary, Augustus Filch. “What’s so dangerous about a character like Fred is that he gives good students bad ideas. The last thing I need is fifteen-hundred Fred Weasley disciples running around these halls. He jeopardizes my ability to effectively govern this student body.”

“Well, he makes you look like a bitch is what he does, Dolores,” Filch said with a smirk.

“You’re wrong,” Dolores asserted, fiery gaze piercing through Filch’s soul.

“Well, he is very popular. The sportos and motorheads, geeks, wastoids, dweebies, dickheads, they all adore him. They think he’s some righteous dude,” Filch said astutely.

“That is why I’ve got to catch him this time. Show these kids that you can’t just skip school nine times a semester like he has and get away with it!”

----

Mr. Binns, a prehistoric-looking man with novel-thick glasses, stood at the head of the classroom, giving his usual dull lecture. While he etched utter nonsense onto the chalkboard, you couldn’t help but release a bone-cracking yawn.

After years of sitting in your uncomfortable plastic chair, drowning out Mr. Binn’s boring babble, your saving grace arrived in the form of a grave Nurse Pomfrey.

You quickly slipped on your pale, leather jacket and stuffed your blank notebook into your backpack at the sight of the frail woman donning white scrubs like a dove, eager to escape class. Nurse Pomfrey had on a solemn face as she quickly whispered something into Mr. Binns’ ear before announcing to the uninterested class, “Y/N, Y/L/N, may I have a word with you?” You painted a look of surprise on your face before stepping into the hallway with the disturbed grey-haired woman.

“My dear, I’m afraid I’m the bearer of bad tidings,” she said sorrowfully once out of the earshot of the small lecture hall, “your father called. Your grandmother has just passed.”

Your eyes welled with artificial tears, face drenched with heartbreak.

----

The landline echoed through Umbridge’s dreary, pale pink office.

“Dolores Umbridge,” she said pseudo-cheerfully into the handset held by her thulian claws.

“This is Phil Y/L/N,” a middle-aged man said, his voice slathered with a thick Chicago accent.

“How are you today, sir?” Dolores asked suspiciously.

“Well, today we’ve had a bit of bad luck. It’s been a tough morning,” he croaked, “now if you wouldn’t mind excusing Y/N, we have a lot of family business to attend to.”

“I’d be happy to, just produce a corpse and I’ll release Y/N. I want to see this ‘dead grandmother’ firsthand.” She peeled the phone away from her face, smiling valiantly at a mortified Filch, saying slyly, “It’s okay, it’s Fred Weasley. I’m setting a trap for him.”

“Dolores, I’m sorry, did you say you wanted to see a body?” an ill-tempered Mr. Y/L/N questioned in disbelief through the speaker.

“Yes. Just roll her old bones up here and I’ll gladly retrieve Y/N for you. That’s school policy.” Dolores looked so pleased with herself, a devilish smirk resting on her lips. The telephone in Filch’s office chimed, and he quickly dashed to answer it.

“Hello, Dolores Umbridge, Dean of Students’ office,” his gravelly voice answered.

“Hi. This is Fred Weasley. Can I speak to Miss Umbridge, please?” Filch’s mouth went desert-dry in horror, his aged, grey eyes bulging out of his skull. He dashed to a taunting Umbridge, jumping and waving for her to shut up.

“I’ll tell you what, if you don’t like my policies, you can come down here and kiss my-”

“Fred Weasley’s on line two, Dolores!” Umbridge’s eyes went as wide as saucers; her whole face, even her bright fuchsia lipstick, turned as white as a sheet.

She was quick to switch to line two, listening to Fred Weasley’s voice which filled the otherwise silent room.

“Miss Umbridge, I’m not feeling too well today,” Fred started, a smug and valiant grin on his face. He adjusted his clean and gelled hair, which perfectly complemented the perfectly-tailored suit he donned. “Would it be possible for Ron to bring home any assignments from my classes? Have a nice day.”

The only sound left in the office was the droning disconnect tone.

The ‘line one’ buttoned flashed bright red like a siren. With a shaky, wrinkled pointer finger painted with a coat of magenta nail polish, she hesitantly pressed the button, sucking in a breath.

“Mr. Y/L/N, I-I think I owe you an apology,” she said, mortified.

“I should say you do!” the deep voice on the other line boomed. Umbridge peeled open her lips for an apology, only to be cut off with, “Well I think you should be sorry for Merlin’s sake! A family member dies, and you insult me! What the hell’s the matter with you?”

“W-well I really don’t know. I didn’t think I was talking to you, I thought you were someone else,” Umbridge barely managed to spit out. “You know I would never deliberately insult you like that!”

“Find out where she is!” Umbridge hissed to an idle but nervous Filch, her palm covering the phone’s mouthpiece. He promptly scrambled around the surrounding metal filing cabinets, reaching for various binders and manilla folders.

“This isn’t over yet, do you read me?” The infuriated voice’s threat yelled into the frantic principal’s ear.

“Loud and clear, Mr. Y/L/N!” she responded while scouring the various sets of drawers for Y/N’s schedule.

“Call me sir, goddammit!”

“Yes sir!”

----

“That’s better. Mind your P’s and Q’s buster, and remember who you’re dealing with!” an exasperated George Weasley shouted into the kitchen’s phone, his voice at least an octave lower than usual. His look of fury was soon replaced with a smile from ear to ear, quite proud of the convincing-ness of his impression.  

A dashing, suit-clad Fred Weasley soon strutted into the lemon-yellow kitchen, charismatically introducing himself, “Weasley, Fred Weasley.”

George held his palm over the mouthpiece of the phone, asking, “I’m scared. What if she recognizes my voice?”

“Impossible. You’re doing great.”  

The self-conscious redhead brought the phone back to his ear, shouting “Umbridge!” furiously. Groaning echoed from the other end of the line. “Umbridge, calm down!”  

“I don’t have all day to bark at you, so I’ll make this short, and sweet. I want my child outside of the school in ten minutes by themself!”

Fred gave George a harsh tap on his shoulder, hissing, “That’s too suspicious! She’ll think something’s up!”

“You do it then!” the other twin whispered back.

“Talk.”

“You!”

“Talk.”

“Fine!” he fizzled. “Umbridge! Pay Attention!” The magenta-suited principal was scuttering around her office, frantically searching for your schedule and something to repair the escalating situation.

“Umbridge! Changed my mind. I want you out there with them, I’d like to have a few words with you!” Fred swiftly slapped the phone from George’s clutches, causing it to fall on the tile carelessly. The identical gingers both scrambled for the phone, ending up in George’s grasp once again.

He yelled to the mouthpiece rapidly, “On second thought, we don’t have time to talk right now! We’ll get together soon and have lunch!”

Fred kicked George’s rear hard, causing a small yelp to escape George’s lips. “What the hell’s wrong with you?” he spat at Fred, who quickly slammed the phone back to the base.

“Where’s your brain?” he harshly asked his irritated brother.

“Why’d you kick me?” George retorted, hurt.

“Where’s your brain?”

“Why’d you kick me?”

“Where’s your brain?”

“I asked you first!”

“How are we gonna pick up Y/N if Umbitch is out there with them?” Fred rhetorically asked, seething.

“I- I said for them to be alone and you freaked,” George stated, reverting back to his timid tendencies.

“Now, I didn’t… I didn’t hit you. I lightly slapped you.”

“You hit me.” Tension sliceable with a butterknife filled the kitchen.

“Look, don’t ask me to participate in your stupid antics if you don’t like the way I do it. You make me get out of bed. You make me come over here. You made me make a phony phone call to Dolores Umbridge? That woman could expel me, expel us, and then, you deliberately hurt my feelings!”

“No… I didn’t deliberately hurt your feelings,” Fred said, his words tinged with guilt. “What’re you doing?” George grabbed his red hockey jersey and keys that previously laid on the island.

“I’m going back to Lee’s, Fred. I need some rest. Have a nice life.”

“No, no, c’mon. Don’t do that, George,” Fred pleaded ruefully, “George, come back. I didn’t mean to lose my temper. I’m sorry.”

“You serious?”

Fred gave a slow and sincere nod. George swiveled back around, setting his belongings back on the counter, his face lightened slightly.

“Now, to fix the situation, we’re gonna have to do something you’re not going to like.”

----

Fred and George peeled the sliding glass doors of the luxurious garage apart, revealing the interior, which was mainly lined with thousands of dollars worth of vintage car memorabilia, save for the treasured vehicle in the center.

“The 1961 Ford Anglia 105E Deluxe,” George said, his eyes pointed down at the prized pompadour blue car resting idly in front of the duo. Fred's eyes were also fixed on the vehicle, though his’ were illuminated with awe and mischief.

“Dad spent 3 years restoring this car,” he continued, hands behind his back, not daring to leave fingerprints on its shiny surface, “it is his love, it is his passion…”

“It is his fault he didn’t lock the garage,” Fred smirked, sauntering around the exterior of the automobile, slobbering all over the surface like a dog with fresh meat.

“Fred, what are you talking about?” George asked nervously, already knowing what Fred was plotting, “Dad loves this car even more than he loves you!”

“Fred, no.” Fred swiped his fingers over the perfect coat of paint, occasionally posing with the car as if he was a model on the front cover of a magazine.

“Que Bella!” he said with a chef’s kiss, still drooling over the car’s magnificence.

“Remember how insane he went when I snapped my retainer? And that was a tiny piece of plastic!” Fred paid an anxious George no mind, instead continuing his admiration for Arthur’s most valuable possession.

“George, I’m sorry, but we can’t pick up Y/N in that piece of scrap. He’d never believe Mr. Y/L/N would drive something like that!”

“It’s not a piece of scrap.”

Fred opened the driver’s side door, slowly sitting down in the comfortable cushioned seat, his umber eyes never breaking contact with George’s identical ones.

“He knows the mileage, Fred.”

“Look, this is real simple. Whatever miles we put on, we’ll take off.” Fred said, barely giving George the time of day.

“How?”

“We’ll drive home backwards.”

“No,” George said firmly, almost like a mother. Fred turned the key of the Anglia, its restored engine roaring ten times better than George’s hunk of junk’s.

“How about we rent a nice Cadillac, my treat!” He yelled as Fred slowly drove away, the revving of the vintage engine drowning out his voice. George stood frozen in disbelief, before Fred slowly backed up, beckoning George to join him.

With a heavy heart, George warily climbed into the back seat of the vehicle. And with that, Fred floored the gas, speeding off towards the Shermer High.

----

“I had a grandmother once,” Umbridge awkwardly stated, in an attempt to soothe your heart overcome with (fake) grief. “Two, actually.”

The suburbs outside of the Windy City lived up to their name today; Umbridge’s frizzy brown curls swayed in the strong breeze. The temperature today was the best it had been since last Autumn; it was a given that Fred would skip.

You patiently waited on the concrete steps outside the school, Umbridge continuing her “comforting” words, attempting to stitch the wounds caused by your grandmother’s staged death. You weren’t focused on the thulian tyrant, however, instead, your eyes waited on the road for the sight of a ruby-red-haired boy.

“Between grief and nothing, I’d take grief,” Umbridge said flatly.

“Great,” you replied softly, eager to shut the toadish old lady up. She opened her magenta-tinted lips to add something else, but she decided against it, promptly shutting her mouth without a sound escaping.

The stentorian roaring of the engine residing in cerulean Ford Anglia filled the silent air and idle parking lot, lightening your spirits instantly. While you didn’t doubt that Fred would’ve shown up eventually, his timing was impeccable. It didn’t hurt that he showed up in a killer ride, either.

A tall, lanky man drenched in a long beige trench coat, horn-rimmed sunglasses, and a businessman-looking fedora, which masked his fiery orange hair, emerged from the car, leaning against its body.

“Oh Y/N honey, hurry along now,” the stranger in disguise bellowed, his voice slightly higher pitched than ‘Mr. Y/L/N’s’ from the phone, a thickly-slathered Chicago accent present nonetheless.

“I guess that’s my dad.”

You grabbed the annoying principal’s wrinkly, cold hand, reciting, “Miss Umbridge, Dolores. You’re a beautiful woman, I wanna thank you for your warmth and compassion.”

A furious Ron watched from the scene play out from the large front windows of the school, immediately recognizing Fred and his infuriating antics with a scowl. Why should he get to skip while the rest of us have to stay? I’ve gotta catch him.

Umbridge looked near disturbed at your counterfeit words on thankfulness, before you eagerly stepped down to the car, giving ‘Mister Y/L/N’ a quick hug.

“Do you have a kiss for Daddy?” Fred jokingly asked with a smirk.

“Are you kidding?” you replied, leaning into his soft lips for a passionate kiss, which maybe would have escalated a little further if he didn’t drag you in the passenger seat of the Anglia.

“So that's how it is in their family,” Umbridge uttered as she watched the nearly-French kiss perched from her spot at the top of the stairway. She swiftly pivoted around walking to the front entrance to the school, when Fred floored the Ford again, its loud engine roaring off into the distance.

“Hi Georgie, you comfortable?” you asked, eyes towards the crampted back seat.

Once the three of you were out of Umbridge’s eyeline, a compact George sprung up from the lonely backseat, saying, “Hi, Y/N. No.”

“So, what're we gonna do?” you asked the dashingly handsome driver next to you with a smile.

“The question isn’t: What are we going to do? The question is: What aren’t we going to do?”

“Don’t say we’re not going to take the car home. Please don’t say that we’re not going to take the car home,” George mumbled, hopeful that Fred would comply, though he already knew that Fred would be doing the exact opposite.

If you had access to a car like this, Fred mentally narrated, gesturing to the amenities-rich Anglia, would you take it back right away? Me neither.

And with that, Fred recklessly rounded the bendy road, speeding off towards downtown Chicago.

[floatinginwords]

Saved by the Devil (14/?) - Tommy Shelby

Summary: events after Tommy gets taken. (my summaries just never got better)

Paring: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (romantic)

A/n: Sorry its taken so long for me too put up a chapter. My mental health has been so terrible and now my therapist is leaving me and i don't know what to do. But i reread this story and remembered how happy it made me and how much i loved your comments and just writing in general so i though i give it a go. I hope you like it and hope you all have a good days and are taking care of yourselves.

 There wasn’t much you could do. There wasn’t anything you could do. So you sat and waited. Not for anything in particular you just did. The hand laid in your lap, your fingers clutched it tightly. You could hear loud laughter behind you, a hand touches your shoulder. You tense before recognizing John Shelby. He talks to you with a smile on his face as the rest of the Peaky blinders gather round him. You don’t hear nothing he’s saying.

“Do you know where tommy is?” He asks you.

 “…No.” You say, coming to the conclusion its better to keep them in the dark. Thomas wouldn’t want them to be involved in his affair let alone know about them.

“No matter He always turns up somewhere.” Arthur says wrapping his arm around John, wrestling him to the floor.

 You smile at the brothers and look over at the younger boy, Finn. You haven’t seen him all day but now you do and he holds a giant envelope. As everyone seemingly becomes entranced with the little show his older brothers are pulling off, Finn makes his way over to you, handing you the envelope.

 You look at him in confusion.

“Tommy told me to give it you after it was all over. He said it has everything you need.” He says.

 You take it from his hands, realizing that it had to have been the ids and new birth certificate you had asked for long ago. He had remembered and he had delivered.

 You nod at Finn and rise from your chair.

 “Where you going, were leaving once their done.” A random voice says to you

 “Bathroom” You simply state, walking away with the hat and envelope. And that’s where you go. Once you find a stall, you open the envelope to find exactly what you had thought. Passports in different names, birth certificates in different countries, and extra money. Tears pinch the corners of your eyes as you think about leaving tomorrow. You had guilt in your stomach wondering if Thomas Shelby was now dead.

 You leave the stall, wanting to wash your face, and hands. The coll water brings a calming effect to you as you forget about who you are and where you are. And then a voice brings you out of it.

 “(Y/n)?” the light airy voice asks

 You ignore, hoping the stranger leaves, but you catch her eyes in the mirror and realize this is no stranger. Its May Carleton.

 “You know me?” You ask, you mind muddled wondering where you had met each other.

 “No, not formally excuse my manners,” she says politely. “ I just seen so many pictures of you in your fathers office. I just wanted to say hi”

 “Im sorry what?” You know you heard correctly, the woman enunciated every word correctly and loudly. You just hoped that maybe you gone deaf or you were imagining things. But it just confirmed your worst fears. The worst nightmare you could be living was right now.

 “I’ve done some work with him the last few months. Again sorry for the intrusion, I just was so excited. Your father talks a great deal about you, I feel already know you. “ May keeps talking but like John Shelby before you tune it out.

 ‘I was right. I was right, I was right.” You think each time getting more and more panicky as you realize what this means. You push past May and leave the area. You begin breathing fast in and out as once you’re in the fresh air. You cant seem to get enough air as the world spins around. You try calming yourself by saying maybe she’s mistaken or perhaps paid to fuck with your head. But your body was telling you otherwise as you pictured the genuine look in her eye as well as excited tone in her voice. If May was acting, she was good.

 You walk the only sound you hear the beating of your heart and ringing in your ears. You don’t pay attention where you walk as you trip over yourself. For a moment you stay on the floor, just trying to catch your breath.

 “Hey? Hey? Whats wrong with you? Get up, we’re leaving.” A loud Polly calls out to you.  You look up and see the woman standing before you, she reaches a hand out to you.

 You grab it,  and pull yourself up. You try to mask up whats going on but you just end up spilling silent tears over your cheeks as you nervously look around everywhere. Your fingers trembling.

 “Breath child,” polly says quietly, “Come you can ride with me.” She says.

 You follow her through to her car and silently she drives you back to London. You both don’t say anything to each other the entire ride. You don’t comment on the stain of blood on her dress, she doesn’t comment on your earlier panic attack. She doesn’t ask why you have tommy’s hat or an envelope and you don’t ask why it looks she’s been crying for hours.

Read pt.15

Tags

@babylooneytoonz @captivatedbycillianmurphy @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @evelyn-4034  @ms-dont-care  @owenniasstars @shikin83 @lauren-raines-x @cactisjuice

[hms-chill]

The Long Way

A nice fun Liam/Spencer fic, because these boys deserve the world.

Summary: (Alternately  titled “SOMEONE GIVE LIAM A HUG” or “Stronk Farm Boyfriends”)Liam’s  just finishing up vet school, and he’s a month shy of achieving the  thing he’s been working for since he was a kid. When he gets called out  to a farm to witness a calf birth and notices something wrong,  under-researched, and curable, it’s the perfect thing to treat and  document so he can write a paper that will jump-start his career. Of  course, the fact that the calf is owned by a cute dairy farmer doesn’t  hurt, either.

Chapter one // Chapter 5 // On AO3

Chapter 6

As he drives home, Liam tries his best to process what exactly just happened. He hadn't planned to tell Spencer about needing meds; that's the kind of thing that usually gets him worried looks at best and requests to 'borrow' some at worst. But Spencer hadn't been weird about it, and that in itself feels weird. He would have known how to deal with the jokes, or the concern, but treating ADHD like it's something completely normal isn't something that Liam's used to. He's even less used to people helping him deal with it, and he's still processing that as he pulls into his parking spot and starts to move everything Spencer's sent him home with into his apartment. It takes two trips to get the various bags and boxes and baskets up, and Liam puts away milk and vegetables and dinner leftovers before he finally acknowledges the two care packages set on his kitchen floor.

He's not sure how to feel about them, and he has no idea what to expect. Some of his friends get care packages, but he's never gotten one. Spencer's feels like the safer place to start, so he settles on the floor and opens it first to find it packed full of goodies. There's a mug, and a hand lotion with a note that it's the one Spencer swears by for long days on the farm, and a little candle. The note on it says this says it relieves stress and I don't know how much I believe it, but you need all the help you can get, which is enough to startle a bit of a laugh out of Liam. There are matches in the box, too, and snack mixes and other treats packed between things, and it's so thoughtful that Liam has to just take a minute and look at it all. He can imagine Spencer putting this together, adding notes about how drinking coffee out of a mug might help Liam slow down in the morning or writing out exactly what's in the snack mix. Everything is so carefully done, and just knowing that Spencer would take the time to do something like this for him, just because he watched a few movies, is surreal.

The other care package is still there, so Liam forges ahead, opening it before he lets himself become overwhelmed by Spencer's. There's a card on top from Spencer's parents, thanking him for doing the chores and keeping Spencer healthy, and it's got their numbers on the bottom in case Liam ever needs them. He can't imagine calling them, given that parents don't tend to like him and people he needs help from often like him even less, but it's nice to know that they're an option if he's ever truly desperate. It's thoughtful that they offered, and everything else in the box is thoughtful, too. There are homemade cookies with instructions on how to heat them up so they're gooey again, and a nice water bottle with a note that they worry he's only drinking coffee because Spencer never drank enough water in school. There's a framed picture of Annie and a set of command strips to hang it, because they've been in enough apartments owned by boys his age to know that he probably hasn't decorated on his own, and enough snacks and baked goods to last him weeks (complete with instructions on how to freeze and reheat some of it), and a few pasta and sauce options because they know he doesn't have much time to cook. It's thoughtful in a way that feels refined, like it's a variant on a care package they'd have sent Spencer in school, and even that simple fact threatens to overwhelm Liam. Knowing that they think of him as even a bit like Spencer feels like a huge honor, and the fact that they'd both put something like this together without ever meeting him makes him wonder if maybe, they wouldn't dislike him as much as other parents have.

He texts Spencer his thanks, asking him to pass it on to his parents, and puts the food away in a bit of a daze. It doesn't quite sink in until he's looking around for a place to put the picture of Annie, which feels much too fancy for his apartment, but when it does, he has to sit down. Three different people put time, money, and energy into making him feel special. Just because he hung out with Spencer for a week, eating his food and watching some movies. It seems impossible; he'd known that there were people like this but could never have imagined he'd meet them.

There's nothing to do but find a place on his desk for the candle, and one above it for Annie's picture, and go to bed still trying to believe that people care about him enough to send him things. The care packages are still there as he falls asleep, and they're still there when he wakes up in the morning. They haven't faded with his dreams or disappeared overnight like some sort of magic.

The good coffee Spencer bought him is still in his cupboard, right above the mug he drinks it out of as he texts Spencer another thank you. Spencer tells him to take his time and relax with his coffee before he comes out to the farm, so Liam tries his best. He's got a library book on its second renewal sitting on his desk, so he picks that up while he has toast from Spencer's parents for breakfast. It feels like he's cheating somehow, like he's not really serious about school if he's willing to take a break like this. It feels like he can't really want to be a vet if he's going to spend his mornings reading for fun, so he sets the book aside and flips open a textbook instead.

It opens directly to a page about the importance of rest. He reads almost a full paragraph about how important it is to let animals rest between tricks, how a dog who's constantly working will learn to hate the work and their owner, before he closes the book with a deep breath. He's going to be working all day at the farm; he can take a break for breakfast.

When he's finished eating breakfast, washing his dishes, and reading a chapter of his book, he texts Spencer and packs up. He almost forgets the picnic basket, and he wonders if he should put something in it as he heads down to his car, but knowing Liam spent money on him might just make Spencer feel guilty at this point. He'll have to do something later; when he's taken his test and is doing better financially he'll have to throw Spencer a big thank you dinner. For now, he loads the picnic basket and his bag into the car, then settles in the front, turning his music up and rolling the windows down. The drive to the farm is familiar now, and with the wind in his hair and music in his ears, Liam can almost forget how stressed he is.

He knows that carrying all the shit he's dealing with isn't healthy. He's seen the stress studies on people and animals alike, and he's felt the impacts as much as any test subject. He knows the exhaustion, the headaches and the muscle tension. He knows the sleepless nights and racing heart that come with looming deadlines, and he knows the constant worry that he's simply not good enough to face whatever comes next. By this point, he could probably be used in a study like the ones he's read as an example of the consequences of long term stress. But the only way out is through, and the only thing worse than dealing with it on his own would be pushing it off onto someone else. He doesn't need guilt piled on. So he does what he can to find moments like this, when his music's loud and the wind blows through his hair to carry his fears out the window. When he finds these moments, he does his best to savor them, to sing along and let the weight of the world fall off his shoulders for a bit.

As he pulls up to the farm, rattling over the cattle gate with a grin, he expects the stress to come back. He expects it to all crash down onto him again as he parks the car, stopping his music and climbing out. As soon as he settles his bag over his shoulders, he expects the stress to come with it, but somehow, everything feels lighter here. It just feels better not to be stuck in a shitty apartment, especially on a day like this. It's gorgeous out, and maybe, if he can find a nice spot in reach of Spencer's Wi-Fi, he'll be able to study outside.

He's just starting toward the house when he hears his name, and he turns to see Spencer coming out of the barn with a grin.

"Thought I heard your car. How're you doing?"

“I’m better. I’m... I'm a lot better than last night. I’m sorry about all that.”

“Hey, no apology necessary. You just needed a hand, and I’m glad I could help out. I was thinking we could get you set up on the porch for today if you want? My mama brought some iced tea, so we can get you a glass, and there’s a nice table where I used to do my homework and a view of the pasture from there. It's not a fancy office or anything, but I thought maybe you'd prefer it.”

"Definitely better than an office," Liam says, not even trying to hide his grin. Spencer grins, too, and leads the way through the house to a wide back porch. He shows Liam the table and vanishes, reappearing with iced tea and some cookies just as Liam’s getting settled. At the cookies, Liam rolls his eyes with a smile. “Dude, you’re spoiling me.”

Spencer just laughs. “Look, I love Mama, but I don’t think she’s realized I don’t have roommates anymore. She packages cookie plates like there’s a family of ten living here; I just need your help eating them.”

“Did you used to have roommates?” Liam asks. He should be studying, but if he starts studying then Spencer might leave, and he doesn't want Spencer to go just yet. Spencer nods in answer to his question.

“I had a bunch in college. I haven’t out here, though there’s certainly room for it. But not many people want to rent this far from the university and the downtown area, and I feel like it would be weird renting to just anyone. I'm living here, and it's my childhood home and all; I don't know. It would feel sort of uncomfortable.”

Liam nods, and Spencer turns to go inside, leaving Liam to buckle down on his studying. Spencer comes and goes, refilling his iced tea and making sure Liam knows he’s nearby in case he needs to be quizzed or anything. Eventually, he brings out two full plates and asks, “is now an okay time for a lunch break, or should I leave you to it? You can tell me to go away if you want.”

“Now’s good,” Liam says, shifting things to make room as he looks up at Spencer with a grin. “Thank you so much for this, really, I... I don’t know if I could have spent another day like yesterday. My apartment isn't exactly the best place to be right now; my neighbors smoke just... so much weed, and it's just in general sort of... this is a better place for sure."

“It’s honestly not a problem. I like having someone else out here; even if we don’t talk or even interact much it’s nice to be around someone. I... I didn’t really notice until Annie, but it can get lonely out here. I don't know; maybe I should look into getting a roommate instead of dragging people out to visit me.”

Liam almost says he’s looking for a place to live next year, but he bites it back and focuses on his food instead. He can’t ask Spencer for something like that, not with his budget. Any room or space Spencer's looking to rent out would be worth so much more than what Liam could afford. Spencer might say yes anyway, but it would be out of pity, and as much as he loves it out here, Liam can’t spend a year as a pity tenant. Instead, he just ignores the comment and the conversation shifts. They talk about work and cows and movies in theaters that they both sort of know neither of them are going to make it to. Liam thanks Spencer at least three times, and each time, Spencer thanks him in return, for coming out and keeping him company.

By the third time, Spencer sets down his utensils and looks Liam in the eye, so seriously that Liam mirrors him, swallowing the food in his mouth automatically as he gets ready for Spencer to be upset. But Spencer just says, “I like spending time with you. You’re my friend, and you’re fun to hang out with. I... I don’t know who convinced you otherwise, or if you convinced yourself, but I’m being completely honest when I say that I like you. You don’t have to apologize for being part of my life, especially not when I’m the one who invited you in. And you don’t have to constantly thank me, either. It’s... you’re not some kind of problem I have to deal with or anything like that; I’m glad to spend time with you. I... I guess what I’m getting at is that I like you, like... as a person. Honestly.”

Liam’s bright red as he looks back at his food and mumbles a thank you, which feels counter intuitive to what Spencer’s just said about thanking him, but it feels like the only appropriate response. He wants to apologize, but that feels wrong, too, so instead he just says, “I’m... like I said, I’m... I’m sort of new to things like this, but, um, I... I appreciate you.”

Spencer smiles, bumping his knee against Liam’s under the table. “Hey, I appreciate you, too. I... if you have to keep studying tell me, but I was hoping to take the horses out for a long ride today, and you absolutely don’t have to, but if you want to come, I’d like the company. You don’t have to, though! I don’t want to pull you away from something more important.”

“Maybe... how long would it take? And could you wait to see how I feel about things later? I think I could come, but I... it would be a good reward when I'm done for the day, if you don’t mind waiting. I just know if I went now, I wouldn't be able to stop thinking about how much I still have to work on.”

"That sounds good; it might be cooler later anyway. We can wait and see, and then just go as long as you have time for."

“I’d like that,” Liam says, and they talk about where they’ll go as they bring the dishes inside, Liam rinsing them off as Spencer loads the dishwasher. Liam’s just starting on some of the bigger dishes, arguing with Spencer that he should be allowed to do the hand washing since Spencer got the food ready, when the doorbell rings. Spencer goes to get it, calling back to Liam that he should leave the dishes where they are. Liam ignores him at first, but when he hears Spencer invite someone in, he finishes up and starts back out to the porch to be out of the way.

He’s not fast enough. Before he can get out, Spencer’s leading two women into the kitchen, talking with them easily.

"Liam, these are my neighbors, Cat and Addy. Cat, Addy, this is Liam. He's... he's the friend I told you about who looked after me when I wasn't feeling good last week."

“Liam, it’s so good to meet you,” Addie says, coming to shake his hand with a grin. “Spencer’s told us how much you helped him out.”

“If you can get this kid to stay on bed rest for that long, you must be some kind of miracle worker,” Cat says, ruffling Spencer’s hair.

“It was nothing. I just hung out here at night, took care of the morning chores, nothing big. I used to live by a place like this and I'd help my neighbors, so it's not like it was anything too new or hard. Honestly, I’ve sort of missed it.”

"Wait, Addy, don't we have a little something for Liam?" Cat asks, and Addy nods.

"We do! It's in the gator we brought over; y'all stay put."

"I don't--" Liam protests, but she's already gone, saying something about how Spencer can come with her if he wants to see something. Cat doesn't seem the type to negotiate what he does or doesn't deserve or need, but still, he says, "Spencer and his parents both already thanked me; I don't need anything else. It wasn't a big deal, really."

“Well, we heard about everything you did, and Spencer mentioned you don’t really have family in the area, so we just wanted you to know that if you need anything, anything at all, you can call us. Addy’s little package has our contract info in it, just in case.”

“Thank you, I... you didn’t have to, really. I’m okay.” When Liam looks up again, Spencer’s leaving the room and Cat is a bit closer. She hesitates for a minute, then puts a hand on his arm, making sure she has his attention.

“I... I haven’t had any biological family since the ‘80s, but Spencer’s parents and Addy made me their family. So if there’s anything we can do to make it feel like you’ve got a family of your own, let me know, alright?”

Liam just nods, trying to swallow the sudden lump in his throat. Spencer and Addy come back in together, and Cat takes a step back with a smile as Addy hands Liam a box that he wouldn’t exactly describe as little. He’s not sure how big care packages are supposed to be; this marks his third ever. Still, it seems like a lot, but Addy won’t let him complain or return any of it. Liam tells her that Spencer and his parents have already thanked him, but Addy points out that they would have been doing the morning chores if he hadn’t, and Cat threatens to sneak the gift into his car if he won’t accept it. Only once he’s agreed to keep it, thanking them over and over, does Spencer suggest they let him study. That kicks off a round of questions about his test, followed by well wishes and another round of thank yous. Then there are reassurances that they’re glad to have met and other pleasantries before Liam is settling back out on the porch to try and process everything as he gets back to work.

His mind keeps sticking on his conversation with Cat. Somehow, she seems to know more about him than he'd told even Spencer. That should probably scare him, to know someone can read him that easily, but it doesn't. Instead, he realizes that it might make him willing to ask her for help. Of all the people who've offered him help in the past twenty four hours, she's certainly the one he'd be most likely to accept it from. He wonders briefly when the last time he would have asked for guidance or help from a 'real adult' was, and he shifts his focus to work instead of trying to think about that. If he's honest with himself, he's not entirely sure he wants to know the answer.

Aside from Cat and Addy’s visit, the afternoon follows the same pattern as the morning. Spencer’s in and out while Liam studies, offering to help and refilling snacks and iced tea as needed. Liam gets in a good amount of studying, and when the words feel like they’re running together and is brain is too tired to think anymore, he doesn't push himself. Instead, he closes his book and texts Spencer to ask if he’s ready to ride.

They get the horses tacked up easily enough, Liam following Spencer’s lead as they finish up and leave the barn. Spencer urges his horse faster, through a trot and into a canter, and Liam does the same, adjusting as he learns her gate and gets used to being in the saddle again. When they get to an open field, he can tell she wants to go, so he lets her gallop ahead, looking back over his shoulder as Spencer laughs and urges his horse to join them. They race across the field, laughing and egging each other on until they reach a little stream where the horses slow and stop to drink, settling down while the boys on their backs catch their breath. Spencer grins at him, face flushed and hair blown back by the wind, looking almost carefree for the first time since Liam carried him in from the barn.

“Why do I ever do this alone? It’s so much more fun with you; you should just come out every week and exercise them with me." He seems to realize what he's asked a minute later and adds, "I mean, if you want; you don’t have to obviously. But I could get you dinner; we could maybe do picnics, at least until it gets cold.”

“That sounds like a good deal to me,” Liam says, grinning back. “I haven’t ridden in a bit, but it’s like riding a bike. Only the bike is alive, and a lot bigger.”

Spencer laughs, and Liam can’t help his smile. This Spencer, the one who’s not worried or overworked, is so, so incredible. There has to be a way to help him stay like this. He’s happy, and after a moment, Liam realizes he’s happy, too. Maybe if they do rides like this every Sunday, it’ll be a start toward a happier Spencer. He knows coming out here regularly will make him happier, and as they start up into the woods, talking and laughing, he can’t help but hope that having company will do the same for his friend.

As they ride through the back of the ranch and it feels like everything else falls away, Liam can't help but hope that Spencer gets to relax like this more often. At the very least, hopefully he'll be able to find these moments more regularly. He seems comfortable and unstressed, and he keeps crediting it to having company, which feels good. Maybe, even once he gets sick of Liam being around, he'll have learned that having company for weekly rides makes him happy. He can invite Addy or Cat or one of his friends out to ride with him, and really, just knowing that Spencer has moments like these, where his smiles come easily and he's as relaxed as he can be on the back of a horse, would be enough to make Liam happy to have known him.

On AO3

Notes:

The picture of Annie hanging over Liam's desk is brought to you by the picture of a highland cow hanging over my desk. Annie's not a highland, because they're in Texas and it's too hot, but they're both cows so close enough.

Also, I think the issue with these two is that they both assume they're a minor character in the other's story when they are in fact the love interest. Like you know how Liam was very much a piece of character development in RWRB? I think that's how he sees himself in Spencer's life, too.

--

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[rosesanthology]

Escape Plan | Matsukawa Issei x F!Reader [mafia!AU]

This took me SO MUCH TIME to write aaaaaah it's not surprising that it's so long :0 i just have many many feelings for Matsukawa Issei ALSO im begging y'all to listen to the playlist before/as you read please !!

Im kinda pissed that i cant add a "read more" option since im on mobile tho :\

(Also ngl at first i planned to get one of the 2 shot but i didn't have the heart to go thru with it)

Warnings : Fluff, it starts with humor but at some point it gets angsty ???? Idk y'all tell me

- Au that could be considered as a ennemies-to-lovers type of situation

[Tags] : @raevaioli and @haikoo like i cannot stress this enough @haikoo this your main manz

- if you could only use one sentence to describe your job to a Karen it would be : stealing from the rich in order to trick other rich people

- you had been what the people would call a spy for most of your life now, the Tokyo based Nekoma Organisation being something close to a family

- you worked with both of your very good friends, Kuroo Testurou and Kozume Kenma

- Kuroo, the leader of your little squad, had been the first one to open up to you when you joined

- he was a gifted chemistry genius and you were sure he could make any poison or soporific out of the most random stuff

- he also had insane combat and physical abilities which made him fit to act in a lab as well as on mission grounds

- Kenma was a little more reserved at first, he was the same age as you but still was really reluctant to accept you as one of his own at first

- when he saw how much Kuroo trusted you and how interested you were in his work he slowly but surely found himself caring for you

- to put it simply Kenma, better known as "apple pi" was a hacker. His job ranged from creating computer viruses to full on enabling the security of whole museums

- despite his cute appearance and shy demeanor he was probably the scariest of you three

- finally, you Y/L L/N was the infiltration and weapons expert of the group, you could weild literally anything from guns, to swords to,,,,,metal rods (but you don't wanna talk about this one) and you were of great help when deciding which infiltration angle was the best in missions

- Kuroo, under the orders of Boss Nekomata, quickly taught you the dangers and ways of the job during your first months working with them, the organisation specializing in outsmarting rich bastards and stealing their precious ressources in order to make "better use of them"

- if they were hoarding a particularly efficient brand of medicine, your goal was to steal it all, and sell it to people in need for free or a low price

- if they were in possession of some important object like let's say,,,,,the construction plans for the emperor's new vacation house, you stole it, made copies to sell at a high price to the highest bidder and your good affiliate, the Fukurodani Corporation would keep an eye on the original as part of their personnal collection, you were fine with that

- yeah they were others organisations like that in Tokyo, your friends from the Fukurodani Corp of course but also the Shiratorizawa elite crime group with who you had worked a couple times before

- ah and there was the Yakuzas too....honestly they were the only group in Tokyo with whom you were still on dangerous terms with

- they didn't like Nekoma in their affairs and you didn't like them in yours, but you tolerated each other

- your boss had established a truce with the representant of the big Yakuza group of your area, Kondo "the viper" Takara, a truly scary woman who had blasted her way to the one of the top positions of the hierarchy

- she even had a cool nickname ヾ(｀ε´)ノ

- but you knew better than to mess with them

- all in all y'all kept doing your jobs well, not bothering anybody

- except for one remaining rivalry with some Miyagi group

- the Aoba Johsai Institution.

- well, rivalry would be a strong word because you kinda got along with that Iwaizumi guy, he was a great hand to hand combat fighter and you respected that

- the others however ? Trash. 👁3👁

- they seem to act like Tokyo will be their territory in the next 5 seconds flat like ??

- THEY DON'T EVEN GO THERE ????

- "they be acting like they can just swoop in and eat OUR rich" you had told Kuroo and Kenma one day over ramen

- spoiler alert : it was a bad idea cause Kuroo snorted and almost made the noodles go up his nose

- no but seriously they always seemed to take advantage of YOUR missions to attract attention

- how did they even know which missions you were on anyway ??? (Kenma and Kunimi are actually good friends cause they play video games together but he'd never tell you that)

- it's like that one time you infiltrated a business company's heir's residence and then you came across a dude named Hanamaki and you had the HARDEST time whisper shouting to him how blowing up the whole place was a bad idea to retrieve one (1) diamond

- at the end you felt so tired that you gave it to him anyway ಥ_ಥ ("just take it ffs" "really ??" "Don't make me regret this")

- they also had the single worst person ever on one of their teams.

- Matsukawa Issei

- just thinking about it made you want to take your metal bat and break something in your shared room with your two other friends

- seriously that guy was like the epitome of clownery

- he's also supposed to be his team's gun expert except that's not the best task for someone who refuses to take anything with him but his freaking FISTS

- the first time you had met y'all ended up being on the same case to assassinate some guy who had kidnapped some cute freckled kid from a place in Miyagi called Karasuno

- EXCEPT HE WAS IN TOKYO SO IT WAS YOUR DUTY !!! NOT HIS !!!!

- you had Kenma on the earbud telling you about the guy's position in the club you were currently one street away from. You were posted on the rooftop of a building with a sniper rifle ready to get done with it and go save the kid but GUESS WHO COMES IN FISTS SWINGING WHEN YOU LITERALLY HAD THE TARGET IN SIGHT

- and he had the nerve to look straight toward your rifle's aim and flip you off while smirking

- sir you're about to catch these hands🚶🏽

- he had knocked him out alright and he got the young boy out but you were NOT ready to let that slide so you quickly got down and crossed path with him at the back exit of the club

- "what exactly do you think you were doing in there ?" Listen. You may have sounded confident enough saying that but you had NO idea that this dude was like a whole ass giraffe

- and he knew he was tall so he had the audacity to say

- "sorry can't hear you so well from down there midget, i was just doing my job (▰˘◡˘▰)" if it weren't for the karasuno boy being right there you would have stabbed his kneecaps on sight

- anyway after that y'all just seemed to run into each other wayyyy too often

- insults were shared just as often tho

- "well butter my buns and call me betty broker if it isn't my sweet little midget shooting people !"

- "stfu before i choke you"

- "kinky but can you reach my neck ?"

- "you've sunk low enough"

-so yeah f u n  t i m e s

- aside from that, business was going great but Kuroo had had news of a very important mission for you but he insisted on letting Boss Nekomata tell you about it himself for some reason

- he'd never done that :(

- you were kinda hurt that your best friend was hiding stuff from you tbh :(

- and Kenma did not seem to know more than you for now

- so you spent a whole week just mopping around

- sometimes you would go and poke fun and the newbie Lev Haiba but it wasn't the same

- Kuroo and Kenma kept working on missions while you were left waiting for that one assignment that Nekomata seemed to keep you for

- until today when Kuroo finally told you that the boss was requesting you in his office

- ngl you were EXCITED

- maybe you would have to zipline down the Tokyo tower (σ≧▽≦)σ maybe he was going to let you take a chainsaw with you this time (σ≧▽≦)σ

- maybe he- "oh" you deadpanned, stepping foot into the office and seeing none other than your arch nemesis, Matsukawa Issei in all his pisces clown glory

- "why tf are you there shitty eyebrows"

- "i had a good day too Y/N ! thanks for asking :D" today was the day. You were 100% ready to kill him and the knife that was attached to your thigh strap seemed like such a good option rn-

- "stop it you two. Y/N take a sit" Nekomata gestured, as you didn't hesitate to listen to your superior even fully aware of Mattsun's eyes annoyingly following your every movement

-"Okay so. Y/N i know you may be wondering why Matsukawa's here but to put it simply we've been informed that a rich family have gotten their hands on one of Aoba Johsai's rarest item : a gold engraved katana that belonged to their first boss"

- "so what do you need us for ?" You didn't mean to use "us" but you knew better than to piss off your boss, he was like a parental figure come on

- "i need you guys to infiltrate an auction held by said family and steal it back in the span of one week. It's up to you to work together or not but keep in mind that our arrangement states that we're autorised to make copies of the katana for future sells."

- you guys nodded, after all you were professionnals before everything and you were about to leave when Nekomata put something on the table

- "here are the keys to your appartment near the auction site it'll be your hideout !"

-.....now this had to be a cruel joke-

- "id rather sleep under a bridge then live with her for a whole week"

- "wow this is the first time we agree on something Mattsun" the oh so familiar nickname dripped in venom as you said it, unsure of what was supposed to happen

- "oh yes you could but i suppose that you don't have the supplies and tools that you will definitely need during that mission :)"

- you locked eyes with the brunette for a minute before reluctantly stomping to the table and grabbing hold of the keys and adress written on a paper, storming out of the door,  letting out a loose "come on shitty eyebrows we have data to collect" to your new....partner ? Ugh it was about to be a long week

-  it turns out the appartment was a lot smaller than you hoped for, with two single person beds, a computer post and different storing purposed furniture

- it was a common thing however, because the last thing an undercover spy would want is to draw attention with a flashy hideout

- the first step was to gather information on who would be at the auction which shouldnt be too hard

- "hey ill take the lead and contact my friend so that he can determine who is going to be here" you said as you sat on the chair in front of the computer

- "mm yeah you do that ill check what kind of weapons have been provided to us" Mattsun had no difficulty finding them as the drawers well full of them....this was very promising

- Kenma had just sent you the list of people that had been invited to the event, and you recognised many names as being members of the powerful Yakuza group lead by Konda Takara, of course.....the infamous viper herself

- you called out to Mattsun to show him and briefly explained what they were up too and how they usually fonctionned

- the auction was to take place the last 3 days after an opening party, leaving the rest of the week for preparations

- they usually took their time in comitting their crimes so you thought that stopping them mid plan by taking advantage of it was the best way to get the sword

- Mattsun didn't have anything to say for the moment, seemingly thoughtful about the whole situation

- "just so you know" you started, already regretting the decision of talking in your head, "i don't plan on being friends with you anytime soon but i feel like for this we should at least try not to rip each other's hair out"

- "i never planned on that second option"

- "huh ?"

- "i hope you know that we've never had a single conversation without insults of some kind before so for the sake of both of us it would be better to actually get to know each other since we're supposed to work together"

- you hated to admit it

- but he was right

- however you didn't comment on it, opting for throwing him a dry "let's sleep" before plopping yourself on your own bed on the other side of the room

- this is about to be one hell of a week

-3 days had passed in the crammed appartement both you and Mattsun struggling to inform yourself on each specific individual that was going to be present at the auction

- right now, you were both sitting on the floor, wearing simple oversized shirts and pyjama pants and shorts, cheese pizza box laying on top of the document covered surface

- "Mattsun, pass me the paper about Okuda Takeda please" :000

- Matsukawa froze, because he knew that in 2 days of living together y'all had establised that you wouldn't be at each other's throats

- but hearing you using his nickname unironically and saying please ???? That was still something he had to get used to

- "what are you staring at ? Give me the paper shitty eyebrows >:[" ah there she was

- "thats my girl" he thought, handing you the document and resuming his own reading

- here's the catch : Mattsun was head over heels in love with you since like day 1 that Hanamaki told him about this pretty girl who let him take the diamond from his mission. He tried to repress his feelings as he had noticed that you seemed way closer with your friend Kuroo who he had seen on missions with you

- maybe you liked him

- he would understand, he seemed way more confident than him and he was also probably way smarter since he was a genius and all

- also the way you were always soft to him and not Matsukawa kinda got to him

- he wanted you to hug HIM after a mission too and NOT insult him

- but he judged it for the better as he still got to be close to you in his own way with the playful fights you always seemed to pick with him

- it was easier than confronting his feelings or rejection

- this mission proved to make things so much harder for him tho

- like yeah he saw you being a badass plenty of other times but now ?

- he got to see you being all clingy and grumpy in the morning (he never knew being called a dumbass while you were falling back asleep on his shoulder was his thing but hey) , got to see your nose scrunch up when you were focusing on mapping out the position of the vent system of the venue

- he could go on for hours about how much he loved you and your plan was not making it easy.....profiting off the yakuzas' plan took way too much waiting and he understood that you wanted it to go as well as possible but he just couldn't keep living like this until then

- it felt like torture

- and he did not want to see you in that gorgeous dress that you were supposed to wear at the auction during the infiltration

- he knew that a couple more days could drive him crazy and make him do dumb shit like kissing you

- he had thought about that a lot of times but never brought himself to do it because je knew it was pointless

- he had to take action now

- the night of the opening ceremony, the day before the Yakuzas would start their scheme

- both of you were laying in your beds, awake, that was a habit you had developped over the past nights, you were just, aware of each other's presence and then sometime you would ask him something about his life, his friends, himself

- it made his heart beat too fast everytime and he could feel himself falling even more by the second when he heard you giggling talking about the time you pulled a prank on your friend Yaku with Kuroo

- he knew that you were already very sleepy from the way you were slurring your words

- "Y/N do you hate me ?" He said, abruptly and he heard a strangled laugh coming from you followed up by the question

- "what's that for dummy ?"

- "please answer" he asked in a whisper, sounding almost desperate

- you took a second to think about it

-you had grown quite close to your tall partner in such a short period of time, even letting your guard down and stopping from being so defensive

- "i don't hate you....i could never" you said the last part more to yourself tho but Matsukawa didn't miss it, he wished he did as he heard the soft sighs coming from your now sleeping form

- his heart ached as he got up, putting on his black coat over his mathing turtleneck shirt, taking his gun and spare map of the auction venue

- you were totally going to hate him now....

- and then he left for the opening party

- the rain was pouring outside

- for some reason you couldn't sleep well that night

- that only happened whenever Kuroo was out on a mission at night or Kenma was working in his office

- you hated sleeping alone, you couldn't do it

- being alone was the one thing you dreaded the most in your life, death was nothing if nobody knew where you were, if nobody aknowledged your existence you weren't alive

- but Mattsun was there and you trusted him.

- yeah you were kind of an ass to him during like 90% of your interactions with him but you just didn't know how to talk to him ??? He was so strong and good at what he did so you couldn't help but feel admiration but also intimidation

- yet you've felt probably more comfortable with him than anyone in your life (yes even Kuroo and Kenma weirdly enough)

- it was a nice feeling

- maybe it was because you saw him differently than them...

- but anyway

- you felt like yourself around him

- and yet

- why couldn't you sleep ?

- "Mattsun ?" You called out to him, voice cracked from not having used it for a while

- no answer

- maybe he didn't hear you over the rain....?

- you had a bad feeling about this

- "Mattsun ?" You called out a little louder, sitting up

- yep definitely

- you turned on the light and to your surprise, Matsukawa was nowhere in sight

- your heart sunk at the realization

- you were alone

- what about the plan ? Ah its true that he never said anything about it

- did he not trust you enough with it ? Did he think you were too assertive ?

- you wanted to cry but it seemed as if your brain wasn't working, your body rushing on its own to check the date and time on your phone : past 10pm on thursday night.....

- the opening party !

- "shit shit shit he must have gone there to take them by surprise wtf is he thinking doing this alone?" You thought aloud, maybe it would trick your body into not being scared

- at this point you were terrified, rushing to get the red dress on as well as putting your 2 guns under each of your thigh straps

- is he alone ? Surrounded by highly trained and dangerous Yakuzas ? What if....you were too late ?

- you didn't have time to think too much about it as you knew that this kind of thoughts led nowhere.

- you had to infiltrate that party the fastest you've ever done in your life and see for yourself, luckily, the venue was only a few crossroads away from your appartment

- truth was Mattsun's plan was not so bad

- after all you had insisted on making him find info on every staff member there too so it's thanks to you if he just so happened to know what type of guy that one waitress liked in order to flirt with her and convince her that he had forgotten his watch in one of the closed off aeras of the venue

- the place was absolutly gigantic, after all it was a mansion bought will illegal money

- he hated this, he just wanted to get it over with, retrieve the sword, gtfo and go back to Miyagi forever so that he wouldn't feel the pain of the illusion of being by your side when you were clearly far ahead of him

- you'd always been anyway

- he had finally reached the generator room and opened the vents with much difficulty as the room was a mess of cardboard boxes and storage shelves

- he was just going to cut the power, which would take about 15 minutes to get back, allowing him to go thru the vents to the main hall that was right thru the wall to his side, retrieve the sword and just make a run for it

- hopefully the rain would cover most of the sound he made so that was even better

- see that would have been great if he hadn't felt the icy cold metal of a gun at the nape of his neck as he was fiddling with the generator

- he had been caught.

- it was the end.

- shit he fucked the whole mission over and now even you didn't have a chance to-

- "what exactly do you think you're doing Mattsun ?" You said coldly even tho the hurt in your tone didnt go unnoticed by the taller man

- "haha Y/N whatchu doing here on this fine night ? You look stunning btw"

- "Cut the crap shitty eyebrows i asked you a question"

- you finally lowered your gun allowing your harsh glare to show how upset you truly were

- damn, Matsukawa really felt shitty :\

- he'd never seen you like that- well not soaked from the rain but....so vulnerable to him

- all your feelings talks happened in the dark of night in your hideout, he'd never seen your face look so pained before

- "I did what was best for both us..."

- "bullshit." He wasn't sure that he believed himself either to be honest

- "what the fuck are you even doing anyway ? I thought you and i were in this mission together ?? Did nothing matter to you ? I finally think that i found someone who i could trust other than my fucking family and that's what you do ? Ditch me for your own profit ?? You did what was best for your damn self Matsukawa"

- you were upset. He got it really, his insecurities had gotten the best of him like they often did....except he didn't have the strength to confront them, to confront you about it. So he got it and he didn't retaliate.

- "so what ?? You're not even going to say anything ?? Not even TRY to fucking apologize ? Do you really don't care ?" You searched for his eyes, but little did you know that he just....couldn't talk nor maintain eye contact with you right now

- "Mattsun...i thought you and i had...something ? I don't know maybe i hallucinated or some shit but i thought we were at least friends you know ? D-did you ever tolerate me at all ?"

- your voice cracked, it got lower and it cracked, and at that moment he was sure his heart broke right at this instant too

- he wanted to tell you that that was the farthest thing from the truth

- he wanted to tell you that he loved you

- but you were too far. Once again, you were miles ahead of him, more than ever

- and the sound of voices coming from the corridor did NOT HELP

- you could not afford being found here so with the professionalism left in you, you pushed your feelings away and pulled Mattsun behind a shelf, crouching and waiting

- you were so close he could feel you shivering from the cold and he felt so so bad

- but now was not really the moment

- "didn't you hear shouting ?" Shit. Maybe you should have waited until getting out of here for your heart to heart because this guard was definitely not trippin

- there were 2, luckily they didn't have the idea to split up to search the room, all you had to do was move low and close to the walls in order reach the door and well....the katana literally could not matter less to any of y'all rn

- at this moment you really regretted going out in such a hurry completly forgetting to contact Kenma, he could have hacked into the camera system and told you were they were so easily.....

- anyway, despite that you guys were stealthy enough to get out if the room

- now the problem was getting out of here.....

- you held Mattsun's wrist loosely as you ran thru the corridor of the building, thunder raging and labored breathing filling the silence

- "Y/N we could get out from the rooftop !" Right....if you could only get there then maybe you could just parcour your way out of this by getting on other rooftops....damn you were glad Matsukawa always thought of every escape plan possible

- you didn't really mean what you said earlier

- yes, you were disappointed but, you were also scared for his dumbass

- and rn may not be the best moment to realize it as you were most likely in a life of death situation but....you loved him

- fuck you loved him so much that you were running in a goddamn dress right now

- "i truly hoped it wasn't you" said a voice from the end of the lobby

- of course it just had to be the Yakuza boss you dreaded so much

- Kondo was just standing there, arms crossed but you knew better than to take her lightly

- "did you come to retrieve it ?" Its funny how her voice seemed to dominate even the full on storm outside, the occasional lightning bolt shining light from the huge windows into the corridor

- "No....let us pass please we just want to leave" Mattsun felt how tensed you were and immediatly rested his hand on his gun handle under his coat

- "yeah sure sweetheart but only if you tell your guard dog to calm down unless he wants me to cut his fingers clean off" she threatened nonchalantly as her hand met the handle of her own katana strapped to her belt

- Matsukawa was deadass glaring at her so hard you didn't recognise him

- he honestly looked like he could take her on but...you didn't feel like testing this theory tonight

- "hey hey, it's alright" you soothed him, putting your hand on his arm and squeezing slightly

- it seemed to work because he quickly let go of his gun even tho he was still glaring

- "let us go" he said firmly

- she pushed herself out of the way and motionned with her arm as if to say "go on~" in the most theatrical way

- you passed her without issues and soon found yourself on the roofs as planned in Mattsun's escape route and made it safely to the streets, rain still pouring

- you were finally letting out a breathe you didn't know you were holding all this time

- you were alive and most importantly, so was he

- you turned around and were ready to say something when he cut you off by grabbing your arms and pulling you into a kiss

- it was short but it managed to get his point across very well as well as warm you up when he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his forehead against yours

- "i love you Y/N....i swear i didn't mean to hurt you and put you in danger like that....if i knew i would have done things differently i-"

- "i love you too Mattsun and it's never been a problem to me, i've done way more dangerous things in my life than rescue my boyfriend from getting killed dummy"

- in the end, you weren't alone

- somehow he had become, your escape plan from it

[wasalwaysagreatpickle]

Sunday 4 October 1829

8 1/4

1 25/..

Went out with Lady Stuart to the well at 9 1/2 – breakfast at 10 – all at the cathedral at 10 40/.. (service begins at 10) for about 1/2 hour to hear the music – home before 12 – Lady Stuart and Miss Hobart read the morning prayers in 1/2 hour –

Came to my room at 1 – wrote 3pp. and the ends to Miss Maclean still uncertain how long we should be here – but beg her to write to me aux soins de Messers [Daniel] Danoot fils and [cse] as before à Bruxelles – want to know how she is and what chance there is of her coming to us – if any chance, it might surely be contrived for me to meet her at Ostende, and bring her back – the waters here have done Lady Stuart good, because they have renovated her spirits – time will shew how far the effect will be lasting – merely said of Miss Hobart she would be satisfied with her looks – mentioned my journey along the Rhine, etc. with Lady Gordon then wrote 3pp. to Mariana our plans uncertain but to write to me at Paris the moment of receiving this letter – the not hearing from her the great drawback on my travelling – mention my little tour with Lady Duff Gordon, and her younger son Mr Gordon as very agreeable – no journey could be taken under happier auspices – delighted with Francfort – enjoyed ourselves much at Ems – even talked of travelling together next year if nothing particular occurred to either of us to prevent it – she a very agreeable person and very musical and she and Miss Hobart sing together – sorry she goes tomorrow –

Then as if indirectly mention the going of Lady Isabella Blatchford our two Lords Graves and Forbes and our charming polonaise the countess Zamoyska 

Concluded my letter to Mariana in a hurry, saying that we and the Gordons and a son of sir George Wombwells were going to dine out – at 3 1/4 sent off my letter to ‘Miss Maclean of Coll 21 Southampton Street Camden Town London’ (Miss Hobart wrote the 2 latter parts of the direction) and I added only ‘Angleterre’, and sent off also at the same time my letter to Mariana ‘Lawton hall, Lawton cheshire Angleterre’ – 

Lady Gordon here – Lady Stuart and Miss Hobart went to call on Mrs Meason at the hotel de l’Empereur (where Napoleon [was]) – not come – and Lady Gordon and I walked to Louisberg where Cosmo and young Wombwell followed – Lady Stuart and Miss Hobart had arrived before us – found the former sitting out in the balcony sketching – 

Dinner at 4 20/.. – a bottle of Moselle, ditto claret saint julien and ditto Marcobrunner – all good – and very fair dinner – at least all seemed satisfied –

Lady Gordon and I very good friends I rather flatter her in the score of her being agreeable she arguing against it saying she had never an offer but the one she accepted and no offer of marriage since her widowhood I said as to this that really her circumstances had been fearful all her debts to which anyone who married her would be subject etc. yes she owned I was right in that asked if I should ever behold her again yes she hopes so in Paris and London agreed she is not to go to Spain or anywhere abroad without letting me know in time to go with her 

Cosmo in wild boyish spirits – Lady Stuart returned alone in the carriage and we all walked (Lady Gordon and Mr Wombwell – Miss Hobart and Cosmo and I 

She had hold of his arm and mine and we galloped) 

along the boulevart to Lady Gordon’s to leave her at home, and then Miss Hobart and Mr Wombwell and I got home at 7 1/4 - Lady Stuart was gone to the Comtesse Zamoyska’s – dressed – Lady Gordon came and she and Miss Hobart and Cosmo went to the Comtesse – Miss Hobart came back in 1/4 hour for me, and I got there at 8 –

Lady Stuart sat working her worsted border on muslin – Cosmo and I played several games at écarté having found the cards on the table – Lady Gordon and Miss Hobart sang – home at 9 3/4 – the little girl very handsome – beautiful hair – had it taken down – reached almost to her ankles – Miss Hobart tired went to bed at 10 – I sat talking to Lady Stuart till 10 40/.. – then stood talking to Miss Hobart till 11 1/4 – 

Talking of the Gordons I at last said perhaps it might have been as well not to have made the appointment with him at eight and a half this morning but he was not ready so she rejoiced she had not gone to borcette but only walked about at the well she said it was very foolish was not like her in general cried over the folly of it and got nervous but thanked me for telling her of it had he been a year or two older she would not have done it envied everyone who had a brother who cared for them she had almost now got over her care about hers consoled her wished I had done as few foolish things as she had done fewer than most but told her she was not generally conciliatory in her manner and sometimes seemed cross to Lady Stuart and all men would observe it said I myself had only made up my mind whether she had much heart or not oh that said she is because I was cross to you individually I mentioned Valenciennes kissed her two or three times and came away said I would just wish her good night when she was in bed but she begged me not 

Came to my room at 11 1/4 – 

oh oh thought I I see my person when there was talk of her having no German lesson at eight tomorrow morning she said why not if Cosmo asked me to walk I should get up but to be sure that would be more interesting than German when I joked her this morning and said I would roast Cosmo oh no said she do not if he liked his bed better as if annoyed that he should have done so what pleasure can she have in the society of much a nouseless boy of seventeen? how prefer his senseless conversation to German his company to mine? the breeches how true that a womans prudery saves her she at twenty six thus pleased with seventeen! twouldo her good to marry I wonder whether I have really ever caused her the least excitement is she ever conscious feeling till she can better understand it with Cosmo? she came into my room while I was writing took up some of my Francfort paper saying she should take a couple of sheets which she did adding how nice it is to have anyone whom one can treat like a dog I merely laughed and joked about it how little she knows me I would gladly make a good connection for blood and money but she would not suit me I should be shockingly puzzled how to be off if she was more inclined for me poor [Pi – Mariana] if she had not these whites so that I am always afraid of her I should be satisfied enough -

Writing the whole of the above of today which took me till 12 50/.. threatening clouds all the day, and no sun, and coldish, but yet the rain held off. save a few drops – and finish, or, at least fair day –

[goddessofgamma]

Windy Cities and Faulty Electronics, Chapter 12 (Ao3 Link)

Summary:  Loki causes problems in more ways than one, having broken into Thor’s house and now by interrogating Bruce about his intentions towards his brother.

Thor’s brother was lanky and long-haired, his eyes dark and glaring at them both as Thor tried to negotiate with the police officer to let him go.  Bruce was remaining at a respectful distance from it all, not wanting to intrude into something that wasn’t his business.  Watching from a few metres away, Bruce saw Thor get angrier than he’d ever seen before.  

From here, it was difficult to tell whether he was angry at the police or with his brother; Bruce suspected that it was a little bit of both.  Usually Bruce found himself recoiling from people when they were mad, raised voices and harsh tones reminding him a little too much of his father. He’s nothing like my father, Bruce thought of Thor.  Even when he’s angry, he’s not threatening.  The way Thor’s jaw clenched was almost endearing.

After some short words, the officer seemed to agree to release Thor’s brother, unlocking the door of the police van.  Bruce thought that now would be an appropriate time to join them.

“Loki will never do this again.”  Thor was talking to the officer, but his eyes were glaring to his brother.  “It was just a misunderstanding about what time I was due to come home.”

The officer looked wary but undid the handcuffs all the same.  

“I don’t want to hear of any more trouble from you,” he said as he pocketed the handcuffs.  “If it weren’t for your brother here, you would have been spending tonight in a jail cell.”  

“Oh, believe me officer,” Loki smirked.  “You won’t hear of any more trouble from me.”

They remained in silence, no noise but the rain as the officer went to drive away, Bruce giving Thor what he hoped was a reassuring pat on the shoulder.  Bruce was a little sad their walk had ended on such a damper, but what mattered the most him was that Thor wasn’t too distressed by his brother.

“Well, are you going to invite me in?  I know you love playing in puddles, brother, but I have a certain image to maintain.”

“Does that image include breaking into houses and being arrested?” Thor asked, bitterness in his voice but leading the way to his flat nonetheless.

“I thought that you would like the surprise.  I thought it might add some colour to the otherwise bland and grey life you’ve made for yourself.”

“Just because I don’t travel the world with some sugar-daddy twice my age –“

“En Dwi is not my sugar-daddy –“

“- Doesn’t mean I don’t have a good life.  Besides, you don’t wear anything that isn’t black, how would you add any colour to my life?”

Bruce felt out of place, hovering behind the brothers at the door.  He thought about leaving, but he wouldn’t want to go without saying goodbye to Thor, after all the time they had spent together, and with the two of them bickering, it was difficult to get a word in edgeways.

“Who are you, anyway?” Bruce snapped back to his thoughts as Loki directed a question his way.  

“I’m Bruce Banner, I’m, er, Thor’s coll –“

“Bruce is a wonderful professor at the university, do you remember the research I was telling you about, a few years ago, about positron collisions?”  Loki raised an eyebrow in response.  “He was the lead scientist on that paper.”  Thor clasped Bruce’s shoulder fondly.  “And now we’re friends.”  His eyes scored deep into Bruce’s willing him to know that he hoped that they were more than that.  “But don’t change the subject.  Why are you here early?”

“En Dwi wanted me to come ahead of him to find a hotel that he’d like.  I had thought that you’d be pleased to see me –“

“- I would have been if I hadn’t have had to receive the news that you were here from the police.”

“I’m here now, early and eager to spend some time with my older brother.  Why not be civil and show me some curtesy?”  Thor looked ready to argue back but then Loki continued. “You are entertaining guests, after all.”  He shot a pointed look at Bruce.

“Fine,” Thor conceded through gritted teeth as he finished unlocking his door.  “Would either of you like a drink?”  His voice was halfway towards friendly.

“Spearmint and Fennel tea, make sure you wait until the water is at eighty degrees before you pour it in,” Loki ordered.  Thor huffed at the unnecessary level of detail.

“Bruce?  Could I get you anything?”

“Coffee, if that’s okay.”

“Decaf black, no sugar,” Thor noted, remembering Bruce’s preferences.  Bruce nodded, chuffed that he had remembered.

Thor motioned for Loki to head to the living room, while he stayed back for little while to talk to Bruce.

“I apologize for my brother, and for myself ignoring you,” he said with earnest.

“I don’t mind.”  Bruce tried to put Thor’s mind at ease.  “It’s better that it was just your brother and not someone trying to steal from your house.  And if he hadn’t come, we wouldn’t have had that walk in the rain.”  Thor smiled at that, the water still spilling down his brow.

“I suppose you’re right. I’ll go get us all some towels.”

He walked into the kitchen, and Bruce heard the kettle a moment later.  Bruce walked into the living room, a little dubious of Loki, who was eying him slyly from the sofa.

“So, you work at the university,” Loki interrogated.

“Yeah.”  Bruce sat down awkwardly on the edge of an armchair. “Mainly in the physics department, with Thor.”

“But you don’t just work with him do you?”  Loki’s eyes narrowed.  “What exactly are your intentions with my brother?”

Bruce’s mind whirred. Until an hour prior, his interactions with Thor had been a little distant, but now he wasn’t sure how to describe what was going on between them, much less how to explain that to a disapproving sibling.

“Eh, I don’t know if that’s for me to answer,” was all Bruce could manage.

“I’ll get Thor’s side of it later, but it’s more than obvious that you both are sickeningly infatuated with one another.”  It is?  

“I… I like him.” Bruce didn’t know what to say, whether to deny his feelings to Loki, or tell the truth.  He didn’t know whether he could give reassurance that he would treat Thor well: he’d certainly try, but he didn’t have enough confidence in his abilities to say that he’d be a good partner to Thor given that he’d managed to screw up so many of his other relationships.  “I care about him a lot.”

Loki looked at him intently, sussing him out.

“What is it that you like about him?”  

“He’s kind,” Bruce wrung his hands, feeling awkward.  “And smart. We get along well.”

“That’s it?  I would have hoped that Thor would have chosen someone a little more keen on him.”  Bruce felt his blood heat at that.  He was enthusiastic about Thor, he couldn’t get him off his mind.

“He’s funny, and caring, I’m comfortable around him, he’s enthusiastic.  He’s –“ There were too many words he could use to describe Thor, but Bruce was starting to get embarrassed.  “He’s wonderful.”

Loki gave a hint of a smile.

“Good.  Don’t tell him that – it would go do his head and lord knows he doesn’t need that – but I’m glad someone like him for more than just being good-looking.”  Bruce tried to keep his expression unfazed; he certainly did like Thor’s body, but it wasn’t the only thing about him.  “You don’t seem to be the worst person my brother has ever dragged home, but if it turns out that I have misjudged you, I will ensure you don’t live to hurt him again.”  Bruce had a strong feeling that the threat was genuine.

Before Loki could detail the ways in which he would make Bruce pay, Thor interrupted with their drinks.

“Loki, if I find that you have been threatening Bruce…”

“No threats, brother, just promises.”

They continued conversation, a little lighter than before, as they drank their tea and coffee.  Loki was to stay with Thor for a week before his partner arrived.  Bruce was fairly sure that Loki’s partner was called En Dwi, but he was a bit confused by the two of them occasionally referring to him as ‘the Grandmaster’.  From what he could gather, Loki’s partner was very rich and had the eccentricity to match.

Halfway through his coffee, Bruce checked the time and realised it was only a short time before he had to go to a union meeting.  He’d forgotten entirely that he had things to do today that weren’t Thor-related.

“I’m sorry, Thor, I’ve gotta head off, I’ve got a meeting in half an hour,” Bruce told them, interrupting an in-depth discussion on the many hairstyles Thor had had over the course of his life.

Thor jumped up off of the sofa to see Bruce out.

“I’m glad we’ve been introduced,” said Loki.  “Don’t forget our conversation in a hurry, it was quite enlightening.”  That’s not a suggestion, that’s a threat, Bruce understood.

In the hallway, Thor held Bruce back just as he was about to leave.

“Bruce.”  Thor looked concerned.  “Thank you, for today.  For talking to me honestly.”  Thor held Bruce’s hands in his.  “Keeping me company.”  

“I’m glad I did, Thor. Spending time with you is…”  He trailed off, not knowing the words, but judging by his smile, Thor took his meaning.  

“Did you mean those things you said to Loki?  About me being kind and smart?”

“You heard that?” Bruce was a little embarrassed, but he nodded.  “I meant it.”

“Talking about me being funny and caring and passionate and wonderful?”  Thor’s grin was getting smugger by the second.  “Yes, I heard you.  I also heard Loki threaten you, don’t worry about him, he’s –“

“- he’s not serious, I know,” Bruce finished.

“Actually, I was going to say that he’s not usually in the country, so you won’t have to worry about it. Otherwise, I’m not certain, but he may be serious.”

“It’s good that your family looks out for you like that.”  

Thor laughed.

“That’s one way of looking at it.”  He moved his hands to brush Bruce’s wrists, moving up his arms as he spoke.  “I think after all that, I owe you a compliment or two.”  Bruce opened his mouth to object, but Thor continued before he had the chance “You are clever beyond words and have made me feel more welcome than I could have dreamed.  You put me at ease, make me smile.”  Thor drew close as his hands reached Bruce’s clavicles, his voice lowering.  “You are dashing and handsome.”  Bruce would have laughed if he hadn’t been so distracted by Thor’s lips so close to his own.

“I am?” Bruce spoke quietly, his proximity to Thor making him forget to be self-deprecating.  

Thor leant down, closing the gap between them, pressing his lips to Bruce’s. It was everything Bruce had been wishing for the past weeks, the pressure of Thor’s lips, the scratch of his beard, the scent and taste of him so close.  

The kiss had started softly but as Bruce raised himself up on his tip-toes to get closer, Thor deepened it, carding his fingers through Bruce’s hair and pushing him against the door.  Thor couldn’t help but hum in pleasure.  How can anyone feel so good?  Bruce wondered, committing to memory every press of Thor’s muscles, every stroke of his tongue.

Pulling back, Thor spent a moment breathing, catching his breath, still only an inch from Bruce’s lips.

“Thor,” Bruce breathed, dazed.  His back was still flush against the door.  “Thanks.  I’ve been wanting that since the last time we…” He trailed off.  Since the last time I kissed you and then ran off. “Thanks.”

Thor smiled his response.

“My pleasure.  I’m only sorry you couldn’t stay longer.” There was a yearning look in his eyes. “Although perhaps, with my brother around, it is for the best.”

Bruce nodded, stepping away from the door so he would be able to open it.  

“If you have any free time this week, though, I’d like to see you.”

A smug grin grew on Thor’s face.

“I wouldn’t dare waste that opportunity.”

[robertshugartca]

We’re approaching that time of year when we’re so...

We’re approaching that time of year when we’re so over the current season and very much ready to move onto the next . In summer, this usually occurs at the end of September (if we’ve been lucky enough to have an Indian summer). In winter , however, it’s around the end of January or beginning of February.

Dealing with weather extremes is tiring, especially for our wardrobes. Eventually we run out of creative ways to wear five or more layers, so we end up cocooning ourselves in the thickest, comfiest knit we can find 24 hours a day, seven days a week. But all is not lost. We’ve found a way to help your wardrobe last that little bit longer, and that’s through accessories . Yes, it might sound simple, but if there’s one common theme among our favorite fashion editors or influencers, it’s that they know how to use accessories to their advantage.

Whether it’s a hair clip or a statement belt, a well-chosen accessory is sometimes all it takes to give a well-worn item a new lease on life. It’s cheaper than splurging on new clothes, and unlike most clothing items, they can be worn with multiple outfits. Spring will be here soon, we promise. Scroll down to see the 15 ways to use an accessory to elevate any winter outfit.

Style Notes: Courtney Trop is a connoisseur when it comes to maxing out on jewellery. A simple cardi and turtleneck become an '80s-inspired maximalist’s dream thanks to the addition of chunky layered chains and gold hoops.  Style Notes: This season, elevated loungewear has become a mainstay in our wardrobes. A pair of oversize chunky hoops is sometimes just what jersey fabric needs to feel a little more polished, as seen in Slip Into Style’s high-low ensemble. Style Notes: Last year, pearls shook off their fusty reputation and took on a new, cutting-edge persona. Take your cues from Nnenna Echem and style an everyday knit with a string of pearls and simple drop earrings to watch your winter basics come to life. Style Notes: No longer the reserve of tourists, the belt bag is another accessory that has been given plenty of airtime this winter. They come in all shapes and sizes, but we’ve fallen for this pretty (if not a little impractical) piece worn by Enis, which adds interest to her minimalistic blouse-and-pants pairing. Style Notes: Out of all the throwback trends of 2018, the Fendi baguette has got to be one of the greatest. When your outfit is unadorned, this iconic bag will add instant kudos. For best results, bag yourself a vintage original. Style Notes: Furry and fabulous, animal-print bags may seem like a fashion purist’s worst nightmare, but as Kat Collings shows, they could not look cooler when juxtaposed next to supremely simple separates. Style Notes: Anyone worth their salt has been belting their jackets this season. Be it a structured blazer or roomy camel coat, this styling hack is indispensable when piling on the layers, as it instantly adds definition.  Style Notes: Okay, so we loved belt bags so much that we featured them twice. If you’re repping the tonal trend, there’s nothing chicer than adding a colour-match belt bag, as seen on Oumayma Elboumeshouli. Style Notes: If your winter dresses are starting to look a little sorry, a chain belt is a super-quick way to create shape and add trend points (the ‘90s are here to stay, so don’t try and fight it). Style Notes: If you’re bored of the standard accessory offering, hair accessories are the thing for you. This February, embrace your inner Blair Waldorf and don a statement headband. Make it velvet and big (or go home). Style Notes: Hair slides might remind you of your childhood years, but thanks to designers like Simone Rocha and Shrimps, they’ve been given a new lease on life. They’ll add an elegant twist to any look.  Style Notes: We can’t get enough of Alexis Foreman’s black bow hair embellishment, especially when it’s paired with a messy, low bun. We’ll be styling ours with cosy camel cashmere and black pants for work. Style Notes: Cheap, stylish and easy to throw on, we’re big champions of the silk scarf here at Who What Wear. For a throwback vibe, try knotting a skinny silk scarf with your favorite jumpsuit. Style Notes: Tying a scarf around your head is a fun accessory option for more adventurous dressers. Keep it from creeping into grandma territory by pairing with graphic, modern separates. Style Notes: Bring a little Wild West to your winter wardrobe by tying a silk scarf around your neck and allowing the bottom to hang loosely. Pernille shows us how it’s done with her tan scarf and white ribbed knit.

source https://gothify1.tumblr.com/post/182617377465

[gothify1]

We're approaching that time of year when we're so over the current season and very much ready to move onto the next . In summer, this usually occurs at the end of September (if we've been lucky enough to have an Indian summer). In winter , however, it's around the end of January or beginning of February. Dealing with weather extremes is tiring, especially for our wardrobes. Eventually we run out of creative ways to wear five or more layers, so we end up cocooning ourselves in the thickest, comfiest knit we can find 24 hours a day, seven days a week. But all is not lost. We've found a way to help your wardrobe last that little bit longer, and that's through accessories . Yes, it might sound simple, but if there's one common theme among our favorite fashion editors or influencers, it's that they know how to use accessories to their advantage. Whether it's a hair clip or a statement belt, a well-chosen accessory is sometimes all it takes to give a well-worn item a new lease on life. It's cheaper than splurging on new clothes, and unlike most clothing items, they can be worn with multiple outfits. Spring will be here soon, we promise. Scroll down to see the 15 ways to use an accessory to elevate any winter outfit. Style Notes: Courtney Trop is a connoisseur when it comes to maxing out on jewellery. A simple cardi and turtleneck become an '80s-inspired maximalist's dream thanks to the addition of chunky layered chains and gold hoops.  Style Notes: This season, elevated loungewear has become a mainstay in our wardrobes. A pair of oversize chunky hoops is sometimes just what jersey fabric needs to feel a little more polished, as seen in Slip Into Style's high-low ensemble. Style Notes: Last year, pearls shook off their fusty reputation and took on a new, cutting-edge persona. Take your cues from Nnenna Echem and style an everyday knit with a string of pearls and simple drop earrings to watch your winter basics come to life. Style Notes: No longer the reserve of tourists, the belt bag is another accessory that has been given plenty of airtime this winter. They come in all shapes and sizes, but we've fallen for this pretty (if not a little impractical) piece worn by Enis, which adds interest to her minimalistic blouse-and-pants pairing. Style Notes: Out of all the throwback trends of 2018, the Fendi baguette has got to be one of the greatest. When your outfit is unadorned, this iconic bag will add instant kudos. For best results, bag yourself a vintage original. Style Notes: Furry and fabulous, animal-print bags may seem like a fashion purist's worst nightmare, but as Kat Collings shows, they could not look cooler when juxtaposed next to supremely simple separates. Style Notes: Anyone worth their salt has been belting their jackets this season. Be it a structured blazer or roomy camel coat, this styling hack is indispensable when piling on the layers, as it instantly adds definition.  Style Notes: Okay, so we loved belt bags so much that we featured them twice. If you're repping the tonal trend, there's nothing chicer than adding a colour-match belt bag, as seen on Oumayma Elboumeshouli. Style Notes: If your winter dresses are starting to look a little sorry, a chain belt is a super-quick way to create shape and add trend points (the '90s are here to stay, so don't try and fight it). Style Notes: If you're bored of the standard accessory offering, hair accessories are the thing for you. This February, embrace your inner Blair Waldorf and don a statement headband. Make it velvet and big (or go home). Style Notes: Hair slides might remind you of your childhood years, but thanks to designers like Simone Rocha and Shrimps, they've been given a new lease on life. They'll add an elegant twist to any look.  Style Notes: We can't get enough of Alexis Foreman's black bow hair embellishment, especially when it's paired with a messy, low bun. We'll be styling ours with cosy camel cashmere and black pants for work. Style Notes: Cheap, stylish and easy to throw on, we're big champions of the silk scarf here at Who What Wear. For a throwback vibe, try knotting a skinny silk scarf with your favorite jumpsuit. Style Notes: Tying a scarf around your head is a fun accessory option for more adventurous dressers. Keep it from creeping into grandma territory by pairing with graphic, modern separates. Style Notes: Bring a little Wild West to your winter wardrobe by tying a silk scarf around your neck and allowing the bottom to hang loosely. Pernille shows us how it's done with her tan scarf and white ribbed knit.

[vildflower]

@supernaturalpromptchallenge | December 2016 Prompt: are you sure you want a dick cake for your niece? (bakery au) Tags: denny, some hint of destiny, (bc I'm trash), fluff, so much fluff I'm puking, dean is bi, cas is gay, benny is bi, baker!cas Author's Notes: I have done absolutely zero research so feel free to correct me where I may be wrong.

"Are you sure you want a dick cake for your niece?"

No. Dean's not sure. He's not sure about anything. He can't breathe and he wants to die.

"Uh, yeah. Definitely. It's, it's her eighteenth birthday, you see and she'll be off to coll-"

The woman behind the counter simply rolls her eyes and waves Dean's piss poor attempts at an excuse away. She goes to the other guy behind the counter, the one with kind blue eyes and a smile that Dean finds kinda cute, and whispers something to him. He listens intently, nods and walks over to Dean.

"Hello. I'm Castiel. How may I help you, sir?" he says in with a deep voice and a smile that- for some reason- doesn't look nine different kinds of fake. Dean just stares for a minute. Castiel keeps the smile on his face.

"I, uh, I need a cake with a, um, with a dick on it.." because my boyfriend and I want to come out today but not like this fuck you Benny for convincing me to do this "…for, um, my niece's eighteenth birthday."

"Oh, she's turning eighteen? Congratulations sir." he says. Dean nods his acknowledgement.

"Look, can we do this quick? I have somewhere to be."

"Sure, si-"

"Lose the 'sir'." Dean quickly says. He's not used to being so goddamn respected. Castiel frowns, and Dean sort of misses the smile. It was a bit comforting.

"Okay. Well, as might be obvious, we don't keep cakes with a human penis on them on display, so you're gonna have to get one custom made."

"Yeah, one sort of gets that after getting kicked out of quite a few bakeries." Dean scoffs.

"Why?" Castiel asks as he leads Dean to a door marked Staff Only. Dean hesitates a bit before following Castiel inside.

"They either don’t make custom cakes or don't want to make one with a dick on it."

"Why would they try to spoil your niece's birthday party?" Castiel asks as he makes his way through what seemed like the kitchen. Dean frowns. Upon not hearing an answer Castiel stops and turns around.

"You didn't answer my question. Did I say something wrong?"

"No, no," Dean says. "It's just….you're the first person to ask that question. I- honestly, I don't know how to answer that."

Castiel looks upset at that and shakes his head.

"These days bakeries have become all about profit. No one cares about the joy that you get from baking something for a special, joyous occasion."

"My dude, these days everything has become about profit."

Castiel pauses to consider that and nods in agreement. They arrive at one corner of the kitchen, the larges counter of all, and the cleanest too.

"Well, what kind of cake do you want?"

"Uh, well, I already told you-"

"No, no. I mean, the smaller details. What kind of cake does your niece like? Chocolate? Vanilla? Maybe some whipped cream?" Castiel says, followed by a desperate attempt at a wink.

Dean can't handle this any longer. This guy, this guy he doesn't even know, is going out of the way to make his 'niece's birthday' memorable by baking her a cake himself…and he's so nice…  

"Look. Ok. I lied." Dean says. He tries to breathe deeply while he waits for a response from Castiel.

"What do you mean?"

Dean sighs.

"It's not actually my nieces birthday. I.. I need the cake, because… I'm planning to coming out to my family."

Castiel is quiet as Dean waits for the worst.

"Why the cake?"

"Uh, my boyfriend thought it'd be a good way to relieve any tension, you know?" Dean answers. A little taken aback by Castiel's lack of…well, emotion, upon finding out that he was being lied to, he rushes to clarify.

"I'm sorry I lied. It's the just this the only bakery in town left and the last one I went to I told them the truth and the owner kicked me out, but, I guess I'll understand if you choose not to make the cake-"

"Why would I refuse to make the cake? Of course, I'll bake it. In fact, I'll make it for free. Coming out is hard- trust me, I know."

Dean doesn't know where this Castiel guy came from, but he's managed to turn Dean's whole world upside down in a record twenty minutes.

"Now, if I remember, you're getting late. What kind of cake do you want?"

Dean decides if it's his lucky day, he's going to push it to the fucking limit.

"Can you make the cake look like pie, with a dick coming out of it?"

Castiel rolls his eyes but smiles anyway. Dean decides that he likes that smile.

After about 2 hours or so of hard work (Dean helps- he really does) Dean walks out of the bakery with the following facts: Castiel owns the bakery, he prefers the nickname 'Cas', he really likes baking and bees (and men, for that matter), and is a real-life angel.

He knows the last part because he straight-up asks Cas that when he offers to deliver the cake if Dean had anywhere else to be. Cas rolls his eyes and admits that he truly is the angel of Thursday and Gay.

Dean ends up inviting his new friend to his party. He decides he could use all the support he can get. Castiel agrees with another one of those beautiful smiles.

"I guess I could ask Meg to manage the shop for a while. But, I'm still in my uniform. I'll have to change-"

"Oh, that's no problem. Just get rid of the blue vest and pop a few buttons." Dean says as they get in the car.

The party's a success. Benny is warming up to Cas- hell, everybody is. Dean can't believe this is happening. (Turns out, not everyone was surprised that he’s interested in both men and women.)

He's not even drunk but he feels like he's on cloud nine as he floats around to everyone, holding hands with Benny and introducing Cas to his family. Sam immediately goes all nerd on him; John looks ready to interrogate him but Mary stops him in time; hell, even Bobby seems to be getting along with him. Benny is the happiest Dean's seen in a long time, and he’s already planning a thank you dinner for Cas.

Dean grins. He could get used to this.

[mynameisnotkarl-blog1]

1/2

I see people are coming to me about assumptions lately

Things im hearing seeing would make you think these dudes hate me

its 50/50 so i guess they can split that evenly

Going outside is feeling more like a chore now

thoughts im having would make you think i gone senile

i been so self aware that its hard to be me now

so selfish i don’t even pretend to be me now

THIS SHIT CORNY 🌽🤣😂🤣😈

but this what the pression sounds like on a good day

and i know this shit can get worse like anyday

i know im selfish i didn’t even show up

Im feeling whoozy i think im bout to throw up

running from my problems like dont ask me

i don’t believe that l#%$ is real if you ask me

feelings going in remission

i missed it with it precision

i just couldn’t risk it

(Ive been in that void)(pitched down)

Ive been out that void

and i still cant tell difference

like who making these decisions

I got some good news

you can’t fit these shoes

i got some bad news

i can’t get over ...

it’s been a few years

ok maybe a couple fews

i mean couples views

i wish weren’t different

and the thought of it yeah it really hits

i hit the doc for a script

you don’t know it but you are god-sent

maybe that was a little extra

why do i be so extra

and then i thought about it but i really didn’t think about it lol

Aint nobody going to judge me harder than i do me

last years of high school got me feeling like a zombie

last years of colle got me feeling like i want to harm me

yeah i know i don’t fit in

but this trigger just clicking

“well did you check the safety”

oh yeah that’s my conscious

i say we get along

he barely do me wrong

when i step like iverson

broad day victim going missing the public

don’t go outside cause a niggas mind is sick

oh you getting closer yeah i think i got to dip

oh im getting so sober yeah think it’s time to sip

and when the reason is no reason at all

When i see heaven i just want to ...

But its bugged when you on the other side

or in between

thinking back on it yeah i wasted my teens

opana had my lov i should of got therapy

i had these tears all froze in my face

i had these feelings all put away

this shit lame and wack

you need to grow up👿👺

Maybe you can turn this shit all around

you didn’t mind being the clown

Thinking their laughter is more important than the pain that you’re feeling now

Goal #1 look in the mirror more

#2 try more

yeah wish it was that simple

but simple how im feeling lately

looking in the mirror thinking why that guy hates me

hate i know it can be a strong word

so excuse me for my ignorance

I seem to lack for a better word or world

and it all seems the same

like how every song sounds sad and it’s starting to become lame

imagine putting your all into a track just for anthony to call your shit lame🤣😂🤣 i guess you got to start somewhere

i got so bored i was going to put %£$ name in the google search bar and face my worst nightmares and see if i can handle it or not

ive made myself an object of a pointless concept

no strong purpose

i think it’s funny how their is always someone who will take the news of your death with laughter and it will be a genuine laugh

told my $&@#%£* marriage is a cool concept n all but really dude

btw im the last person you should be taking advice from

compliment

read n tak a hint

ask &@$ if &@$ wants to get use to just touching each other

is this a relationship

can it be this simple

No

sometimes i realize how sad i am

and how pathetic i look and sound

do people get mad at you when you’re this pathetic

am i pushing it if i say im average

i wonder if my ancestors went through something like this

i feel like the future can be bright but no time is better than it is now

i wonder if $@&#%€ thinks about me

i wonder if i made anyone cry

i used to think about 9/11 daily

but then $&@ came along then

it was $&@ every other second

the adderall help but the isolation did not

i think about how i thrived in my world

but in your world i could not

i once thought about how i could just be being dramatic

like how im concerned if “just be being dramatic” is grammatically correct or incorrect or if i should just know that either way it’s not the first time nor the last (even this is a edit)

first time I seen the &@“$& i was scared to death

the second time i seen the &@“$& i was at peace

ive🔒 a note with all my thoughts and now i dont know my thoughts

you ever get so conscious of your walking you feel like every step you can trip

i want to make a song named “I stay strapped in Prague”

i found my 👇

thoughts

1. they was close now they talk behind my back

2. are they friends or are they just using me

3. most of the whispers are about me

4. why do i want people to like me

5. i see dark objects that are not there

6. the majority of people i meet are against me

7. i know that i exaggerate things but does it stray away from the truth

8. i thought they was close but i got to cut ties now

9. i can absorb the outside world but it is difficult to interact

10. they can see right through me

11. they try to hurt me for a reaction

12. i cry most of the time just because it is good for me

13. they request things of me i don't want to do

14. isolated is when i feel most comfortable

15. i distance myself to protect me and sometimes others

16. i think im selfish even when im not trying to be

17. people think i don't like them but i don't have the energy for them

18. sometimes i avoid looking in the mirror

19. eye contact is becoming more and more difficult

20. most of my expressions are manufactured

21. don't care for the future don't got any plans

22. i love my family i love my family

23. i think about disappearing never coming back

24. ideal death will be alone deep in the forest

25. im scared

26. i damaged myself far past the chance of repair

27. distance distance distance

28. dissociation is easy

29. i don't know my family

30. why am i holding on to this anger

31. i might be sick

32. i don't know if i care

33. i think im pathetic for doing drugs

34. its hard to remember my childhood

35. i wonder if eight or ten year old me will like me now

36. accomplishments feel anything but

37. i notice things

38. im done with a lot people even ones i like

39. my thoughts paralyzes me

40. trust is difficult don't trust

41. don't know what my thoughts on what &&&& is yet

42. i don't want to do this how do i get out

43. i need help

44. i don't want help

45. enemies will laugh and joke in your face

46. if i try to enlist in the military they will deny me

47. i cant tell nobody about the problems i got nobody

48. i don't know where im at right now i just hope he is alright

49. j coles kod got me thinking he the goat and i only listen to the intro

50. ?i deleted this one it was too dark?🙄😢🙇🏾🤦🏾‍♂️

51. the album-art cover of the kod is amazing. subliminal

52. kill edward is jcole

53. if this is it im not

54. itiiinimpressed

55. im going to stop thinking about her

56. regret is a persons worst enemy

57. pretty sure i got an anxiety disorder

58. pretty sure i got ptsd

59. i use to skip meals because of my anxiety

60. i don't need nobody to tell me i need help but i know

61. im sick

62. im sick

63. how did i get sick

64. im a little dramatic

65. tpye mistake but i didn't want to backspace

66. thought this line should be a dark one but nah 6ix hundred more to go (ಥ﹏ಥ) that was an accident too but it still works i guess

67. fiona and v that will be a good 3hree

68. believe im capable of love but choose not to

69. i don't want to get high anymore but i am

70. i find myself in that empty place quite often

71. i dismissed all her advances im sorry

72. this is going to be... a long one

73. im not good with eye contact for a lot of reasons but i seen something in someone's eyes thinking how is s•• alone? is s•• alone? and things were never the same it changed everything it happened too fast but feelings weren't mutual and now i feel numb most of the time

74. i suck at rapping and producing but it feels like i can change that so easily but im lazy and scared mostly scared lol

75. i hate that shit "lol" but i still do it smh devon no lol

76. sorry its just most of the time ur not

77. im too busy trying to love myself

78. oh im sorry if it looks like im trying too hard but i am

79. i would do anything to push people alway but very little to keep them

80. everyone is against me i got few if not any

81. i need to get swollen i already told some people i was planning on too

82. i only laugh with my friends i think

83. hope this car ain't no scam hope is empty but it feels good

84. i just want it to feel good

85. i think ye might have lost it

86. i have problems sleeping

87. i slipped in that dark place again and i don't want to be there

88. behind my back

89. thunder without lightning how frightening

90. it's either i care too much or for not

91. i really don't want to disagree

92. Cringe

93. how do u make demons out of angels

94. if i hit the lottery with millions i promise myself to show someone this list

95. who are you?

96. i don't want to think about it when i think about it

97. you don't want to know the places i go

98. had to correct that👆👍

99. just sitting here chilling with my shoes on unlaced

100. i think im sick... in the head

101. i think about the most darkest things

102. i don't think im going to sleep for a long time

103. now i know why people go to far with things

104. but when you do it right the outcome is amazing

105. i can understand someone else's choice better than i can explain min