#today thomas is so done with his everyday work life

[wysteriaisapenguin]

It’s not Thomas and Friends if they’re not making silly faces all the time 

[silverbrain]

Riveting

Tropes- non-MC character, non-Reader character. Rafayel x OC, college life, unrequited feelings, destiny vs choice, yearning, lots of it.

Summary- Set in 2043, a year before the current LADS timeline. Someone from Rafayel’s past shows up, and he can’t help but chase her.

This is for my artist MC girlies, I made an OC for y’all. I have like a whole ass novella idea in my brain, I’ll be adding parts to this…

Rafayel stands in front of the painting.

A wall length canvas of a man- no a merman, stands in front of him, his eyes angry, or was it yearning? The painting depicted a top-view perspective of a merman, hand reaching out towards something beyond the canvas, eyes desperate, while his tail disappeared into the distance. Long, wispy brown hair flowed around him, dissolving into the water around.

Rafayel found himself staring for longer than he had intended to. The artist had definitely done a great job. The painting had a mesmerizing quality, and its mystery was only increased by the fact that the merman’s face wasn’t fully visible. Front and center, his eyes were brimming with emotion, and yet the rest of his face was smeared, as if it was lost to the waves and the chaos around him. Hardly had he seen such an astonishing depiction of the sea. No wonder the painting was the talk of the town.

It was part of his ‘job’, as Thomas insisted. Visiting famous art exhibitions, ‘in search of inspiration’ and for ‘networking’ as he had heard Thomas explain for the 16th time a few days ago. Rafayel wasn’t one to shy away from art exhibitions, but he wasn’t exactly pleased with the idea of Thomas on his heels, constantly getting him to talk to various artists. ‘You can’t exist in a bubble’, he always insisted, and Rafayel always argued that sometimes, he just wanted to look at paintings and avoid the small talk. They had argued at length, and Rafayel had managed to reach a compromise with his manager- he would attend 1 exhibition a month, alone- for enjoyment’s sake- he had argued and Thomas wouldn’t ask him to socialize with anyone.

Rafayel stares at the painting. He sees the colors, he sees the techniques, and yet nothing explains what it is about the painting that is so…captivating. It’s ordinary work, if you look at it technically. It’s normal paints. Not protocore paint, not naturally derived paint, like he painstakingly did, no fancy techniques, as least not as far as he could see. And yet, it was hypnotizing.

He steps forward to read the piece’s name. ‘Sea God’s Destiny’ by River, it reads. It sends a jolt through him. A crowd mulls around him dully, talking in soft whispers as they admire the painting, but Rafayel stands there, transfixed, heart thumping heavily in his chest. Sea God?

In another part of the gallery, a distinct set of heels clicks on the tiled floor, casually observing the pieces on the walls. People sure were talented. Paintings of the sea adorned the walls in various sizes. Some of harsh storms, others of the beach, some of fish, others of ships. She looked through them carefully, analysing, admiring, but she moved fast. After all, it was the third day of the exhibition, and she had been here everyday. Everyday she enters this room, however, and stands there for longer than she does in the others, looking at the ‘Sea God’s Destiny’ with a rather blank expression.

Today, she finds herself walking towards the man himself. She knew that silhouette. It was obvious in the way he stood, in the way he put his hands in the pockets of his trousers, in the way his shoulders sloped.

“Like what you see?”, she asks, standing beside him as she eyes the painting herself.

Rafayel’s eyes jolt to her at the familiar voice. She’s wearing a deep blue hoodie, and it covers most of the side of her face, but there’s no way he wouldn’t recognize her. “You-“

He stops, as she turns to meet his eyes. Pink purple eyes meet dark obsidian as she smirks at him. “Did I do a good enough job?”, she asks again.

“You’re River?”, he asks her incredulously. The tabloids had been going crazy for the latest artist’s paintings. They always depicted the sea, or water. Sometimes it was a teardrop running down a face, other times it was a shattered glass on the floor, water spilling out. River, the new rising star had caught the attention of many. And yet nobody knew what- or she- looked like. The artist always commented that they’d like their paintings to speak for themselves, which only drove the press reporters crazier. There were no photos, there were no voice recordings either. Only press statements released to magazines. Soon, rumors began to run wild. Some said the artist must be an old man, evident in the way he captured the beauty of the sea, others predicted the painter was a criminal, currently in jail. Rafayel had personally not given it much of a thought. He understood the artist’s need for privacy. He got in arguments about it with Thomas about the same way too often and so he hadn’t really found his mind wander looking for this River.

And yet nothing had prepared him for her. It was obvious. In the way the water flowed, in the way her dark eyes shone in the room’s soft lighting, in the way the merman’s face faded into the sea, it was so obvious. He should have known. She was River.

A thousand moments run through his mind, all at once. A college classroom, the smell of paint. Stolen kisses. The feeling of falling, falling, falling.

She doesn’t reply, simply raising an eyebrow. Of course, it’s me.

He watches her as her eyes shift to his hair. “You always did like purple a bit too much”, she comments offhandedly.

His hand awkwardly shifts to his neck. “It’s…lilac”

She looks at him then, really looks, and Rafayel feels his breath still in his chest. “Oh really? Thank you! I really can’t tell my colors apart”, she says, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

He laughs a little, but it dies in his throat. Her hood covers most of her face, and he wants to ask, to see, to know. “It’s gorgeous”, he says instead.

It is, she is, everything is, but he doesn’t say that.

“I’m glad it lives up to your expectations”, she says, hands folded over her chest. “I’ll see you”, she says then, and she is walking away, as Rafayel stands there, stunned.

It is a few moments before he regrets it. He should’ve asked. He should’ve asked her how she was, how she became this River, he should’ve asked how she knew. ’She probably didn’t’, a part of his mind provides, after all, he didn’t go about telling stories of his time as the sea god at lunchtimes. But another part of him knew that she knew. She always knew things, somehow.

The rest of the day is a blur to him. He eats his dinner, he goes home and sits before his blank canvas for hours, the only thing reverberating in his mind her face, his face, the painting’s. River. At night, he sighs, unable to hold back. He sends Thomas a quick text.

Rafayel: is there any way you could get in contact with the artist River?

Who is River? How does Rafayel know her? Find out in part 2.

[lavender-romancer]

Loving girl

Tommy Shelby x reader

CW: suicide mentions, grief

You've always known you would be a better partner for Tommy, after Grace died you had to reassess your motivations for being close to Tommy because he needed a friend more than ever before

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

When you were younger it was easier to deal with the unrequited feelings of a teenage crush. Everyone has those feelings when they're around 15, it's not unheard of for them to go away after a few years or even months. But this was incomparably different. You didn't know how to express your feelings in a coherent way to him, the way you had always shown affection towards him was support and material things like buying him cigarettes or baking him something. There was no way to vocalise your feelings because you were so awful with expressing yourself. Instead turning towards sexual and substance based distractions which would allow you to forget about him for a moment.

Tommy didn't care for labels unless there were children involved, he didn't have girlfriends only women he fucked. Grace became his wife because of Charlie and you didn't know if it would have been different if she wasn't pregnant. Tommy Shelby expressed fondness for Grace but nothing which you would call love, responsibility was more important to him.

You so wanted the story of the two of you to end happily, the teasing that the two of you got from the Shelby brothers was enough to make you hope there was something there but it was a story. A story that you liked to manufacture an ending for rather than feelings based in fact. Tommy saw you as his closest friend but since that wouldn't be too popular with his new wife you'd been seeing each other less and less over the years. You still saw the other Shelby's and Michael at the Garrison most evenings and at work but Tommy was scarcely around.

Everyday felt prettier when you saw Tommy, when he was in a room with you it made you feel instantly more comfortable. It had been this way since you were younger, racing to meet him after school and go on a walk together before having dinner at Pol's house. The memories of your youth where your minds just contained an emptiness of anxieties that you'd experience later in life. You'd never seen Tommy quite as anxious as when you saw him after Grace had died. It was the first time the room didn't feel prettier with him being there. you could appreciate the stoic dimness of the lamp on his desk and how the grand windows let in a beautiful amount of light but… just the bags under Thomas' eyes indicated how sleepless these nights had been.

"Got these for you and made you some stuff, don't worry if you don't eat it," you softly placed two packs of cigarettes and a tin of pastries on his desk.

"Thank you," he said gruffly with a nod, immediately looking at the packaging of the cigarettes "The posh ones eh? Spending all that money on me?" He showed the hints of a smile and you took it gratefully.

"I mean, clearly in a slum like this you could do with the glamor of taste," you said sarcastically and he scoffed.

"You always have the worst attempts at humor I've ever heard." Tommy sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes.

"Oh shut up, now give me one of those and we can chat," you held your hand out and Tommy handed you a cigarette which you lit after you sat down on the chair in front of him.

"Chat, hmm? We haven't done that in a while have we." Tommy reminisced.

"I meant to apologise about that. I should've made more of an effort to see you." You pursed your lips uncomfortably but Tommy waved you off.

"Not at all, she wouldn't have liked you being here anyways. It was a good decision, jealousy can fester from any corner of a friendship." Tommy lit his own cigarette.

"How has today been?" You asked.

"Just as shit as the others. My never ending guilt and the wish I had died instead is still such a strong feeling," he paused "Do you think it will ever go away?"

"That's a lot to ask of your unconscious thoughts, Thomas. They're not usually that helpful in normal situations." You smiled at him and he nodded.

"I thought so, Charlie will now grow up without a mother and that's one thing I can't fix with all the money in the world. It's so frustrating." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"How is Charlie?" You changed the subject because you feared that line of conversation would go nowhere.

"You're doing that thing you do again," Tommy looked like he almost smiled.

"What thing?" You narrowed your eyes at him.

"The way you change the subject when I start getting emotional so I don't actually get there," he commented and you shrugged.

"It's what friends do isn't it." You took a deep breath in and out.

"You're too considerate for your own good, Y/n." Tommy tapped the ash off his cig and looked into your eyes.

"Only to you," you said quietly.

"I know, I appreciate it. A lot," he paused "I always wondered what it would be like to have that amount of consideration all the time."

"What do you mean?" Your palms began to sweat.

"Just when I'm imagining a world like that, you know? With more people like you," Tommy paused and smiled sadly at you. "It would be infinitely better than what we suffer with now."

"Tommy… you've drank too much today," you said cautiously looking at the half empty whisky bottle on his desk.

"And yet, I'm thinking clearer." He suddenly stood up and walked over to the window.

"What are you thinking about?" You asked.

"How I want to burn it all," he said in a stoic voice and you could have shivered at how serious it sounded.

"Well I don't think arson would be the best move for you next." You smiled to yourself and he let out a small closed mouth smile before leaning the side of his head against the window.

"It's something Michael said when I met him again, that if he saw the pretty white brick wishing well in his old village again he would blow it up just to see the bricks everywhere. I want to do the same thing to this fucking house half the time," Tommy closed his eyes.

"But this is now Charlie's home, you have to think about consistency with his life from now on." You reasoned and Tommy nodded slowly.

"He's the only reason I haven't done it. The only reason I won't." He walked back to his desk and sat down before pouring another whisky as well as one for you.

"Thank you. So, what's next?" You asked, sitting back on the sofa nursing your glass.

"Business, business, business I think. It's the only way I know to distract myself from the enormity of this fucking house and all the fucking loss that's occurred throughout it." Tommy sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Why don't you tell me about it? The loss I mean." You proposed and Tommy sounded like he scoffed at the idea.

"Turning into my personal shrink now are you, eh?" He asked.

"I'm being a friend." You said simply and he nodded.

"You're right, but I'm not the man for those kinds of conversations. I don't know how to verbalise any of it," he took a drink. "I do sometimes wish we could go back to being 14, lying in wildflowers without any issues we couldn't solve with a bit of practical thinking. Everthing is so fucking hard now, Y/n and I don't think I can cope with it for much longer."

"You don't mean that, we were just innocents but, we all have to grow up at some point and you decided your life path when you got married and had children within the marriage. You can't back out now to go back to a simpler time or something," You placed the glass down and walked over to the desk.

"Why do you fit so well together?" He asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You're so reasonable and caring and you want to help me even though I've been a terrible friend. You like your job and your house and your social life, everything fits together so well. Whereas I always feel like I'm on the verge of the end everyday." Tommy looked up at you and you shook your head.

"You know I'm even better at lying than you are. That's how I do it, fake confidence, fake togetherness. Whatever it takes to get me through the day because eventually it feels normal to me." You reached over and touched Tommy's hand.

"I used to crave a normal routine but then after the war I couldn't deal with the plague of silence that comes with it. Everytime I would have normality it would be colliding with some kind of crisis I created to make my own life more interesting." Tommy rubbed his temple with his other hand and you frowned.

"And what does wallowing in it do for you?" You asked.

"I know, it's fucking deluded of me. But I don't know how else to get through. How do you deal with grief?" He asked.

"Talking about it for a start, I don't know…screaming sometimes works. When my mum died I punched a wall." You laughed and Tommy smiled to himself.

"I can see myself doing the second thing at least, talking about it makes me want to commit. It's just…so fucking sad because Charlie's mum's died when it should've been me. It was a bullet meant for me." Tommy sighed and you walked around his desk to stand in front of him.

"Come here," you beckoned him to stand in front of you and he slowly got up and straightened his waistcoat.

You pulled him into a deeply needed embrace, Tommy hadn't received any type of comfort that had actually worked until now. He cried. He cried for the mother of his child, he cried for the fact that he didn't love her. But most of all he cried for himself, his own shame at being alive.

Peaky Blinders Taglist:

@queenofkings1212 @severewobblerlightdragon @cl5369 @fairypitou @stressedandbandobessed7771 @shadow-of-wonder @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns @curled-hair-red-lips @lucystivinsky1315 @lovemisshoneybee

[watchmegetobsessed]

Prompt/Request Idea!! I don’t really have a vision for the beginning or how it should end but I thought it was a cute idea. Harry sees the reader in one of his T-shirts for the first time. And maybe she doesn’t realize it’s a big deal like she just wanted to get out of her uncomfy clothes and grabbed the first shirt she saw and threw it on. But like Harry turns around and sees her and his world stops for a sec. lol can you tell I’m a hopeless romantic?? Also I got this idea listening to a country song (T-Shirt by Thomas Rhett) so yea that’s it!! This just popped into my head and you are one of my fave Harry writers so I figured why not.

BORROWED

a/n: hii! im sorry it took me so long to get around and write this but i was finally in the mood to write something extra fluffy so here it is! hope you'll like it!

pairing: Boyfriend!Harry X Reader

word count: 1180

masterlist

(gif is not mine)

“We can start in a bit, I just have to make a quick call to Jeff, is that alright?”

Harry keys the two of you into his house, heavy paper bags in both your hands and his as you just came back from grocery shopping. Tonight is date night, but after the long week you both had, you chose to just cook something together and then get lazy on the couch cuddled up with a good movie. It’s exactly what you need right now.

“Sure, take your time,” you smile back at him as the two of you walk into the kitchen, putting the bags to the counter. “I’ll unpack these in the meantime,” you offer, digging into the bags of goodies.

“Thank you, love,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before making his way into his study to get over with anything work related as soon as possible so he can spend his time with you.

While he is on the phone in there, you softly hum to yourself, unpacking everything you bought, leaving what you’ll need for dinner on the counter and putting away the rest. You already know your way around Harry’s kitchen, you’ve spent a fair amount of time in his home since you’ve started dating just a few months ago. At first you felt hesitant whether the timing for the two of you to give it a shot is good, both of you driving a quite busy life lately, but at last you’re glad you listened to your heart. You’ve grown to love him more and faster than you ever thought and now you can’t even imagine your everydays without him.

When you’re done with the unpacking, Harry is still on the phone so you decide to start peeling the potatoes since there’s a good amount of that, Harry has been craving fries all day so you’re making that as a side. But before you could start working, you decide to make yourself comfier. Still wearing your dress from work today, you make your way into Harry’s closet, roaming through his simple t-shirts, grabbing one for yourself as well as one of his workout shorts before you strip yourself out of the tight dress and put on his clothes, allowing you to feel so much more comfortable and relaxed.

When you’re back in the kitchen you connect your phone to the Bluetooth speakers he keeps there, putting on some soft music as you start peeling the potatoes, taking your time, not wanting to get much ahead on your own, since the whole point of the evening is to cook together, something you’ve been doing a lot since you’ve started dating. In fact, on your very first date, instead of taking you out to some expensive restaurant he chose to make home-made tacos together and it was the most perfect first date you’ve ever been on.

On the other end of the house, Harry finally finishes up his call and puts his phone on do not disturb, not wanting anyone or anything to interrupt his time with his girlfriend before he makes his way out to the kitchen. He hears the music before he sees you moving around and a smile tugs on his pink lips how you’re listening to a country song again. You’ve shared with him your recent obsession with country music lately and how you always find yourself gravitating towards this genre whenever you’re listening to music.

As Harry approaches the kitchen you finally come into his view, standing with your back facing him as you gently sway your hips to the rhythm, humming to yourself while peeling the potatoes near the sink. Stopping in his tracks, he allows himself to adorn the sight of you, especially because he can feel his heart pitter-pattering in his chest when he realizes that you’ve changed out of your dress and put on some of his clothes.

The blue shirt hands loose around your frame, the hem reaching down to your mid-thigh, the seams on your shoulders falling way past where they usually do on his body. The workout shorts are baggy on you and though the shirt is covering your hips, he can tell you rolled down the waist of the shorts so they fit you just a tad bit better.

He is in love with this sight, his beautiful girlfriend in the peace of his home, wearing his clothes, ready to spend the rest of the evening together, talking it away about anything and everything, because that’s what usually happens. He loves hearing you tell him your opinion about anything, loves to know your thoughts and feelings, loves listening to your rambling about the things that interest you lately.

He just loves you and everything about you.

It’s not the first time he is seeing you wearing his clothes, it had happened several times when you were spending the night over at his place and after some mind-blowing sex you felt more comfortable in his clothes than your own, but every time it happened before you always asked, as if you didn’t have a right to just take whatever you want from him. In his book, everything he owns is already yours as well, nothing is borrowed anymore, but you haven’t gotten past the point where you don’t ask, but now it finally happened and Harry couldn’t be happier about it. It means that you’ve settled into the thought of the two of you being a full item, equals in a happy relationship.

Harry walks up behind you, his hands sliding around your waist and under the shirt so his palm is touching your bare stomach, his fingers playfully dancing on your naked skin. You smile to yourself, melting against his chest instantly, your bodies fitting together perfectly, like two puzzle pieces.

“Hey handsome, done with everything?” you ask, turning your head to the side so your lips could meet his in a short peck.

“Yeah. I’m all yours.”

“Mmm, finally,” you chuckle playfully, a giggle escaping your lips as he tickles you a little before his arms fall from around you.

Standing next to you he leans against the counter, taking another few moments to just watch and adorn you, his arms crossed on his chest as a small, content smirk tugs on his lips. You catch his gaze, but you have no idea why he is staring at you like that and you can’t help the nervous little giggle that falls from your lips.

“What is it?” you ask, bumping your hip against his playfully.

“Nothing, I just… I really love you, that’s it,” he shrugs and you feel the warmth hugging your chest at his words.

“And I love you too.” Dropping the peeled potato from your hands you lean closer and steal a kiss, leaning against him gently as his hands find your hips. “Do you mind taking care of the veggies?” you ask, smiling against his lips.

“Sure thing,” he nods, pecking you one last time before he gets down to work as well.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[toxicbubblegum212]

Maze runner boys ~ When they finally figured out you are the one ~

Minho:

- Ok Minho was in way over his head. You were hard to catch literally...

- Minho has ran into you multiple times in the maze, every time you ran away from him...

- Minho was so confused but he never told anyone bout you as he knew no one would believe him

- Till one day you literally just roamed straight into the glade

- When Minho finally saw you like up close he was already sold

- He started wondering what your name was and how beautiful your voice would sound like when you say his name (no not like that! NOT TODAY SATAN!!)

- Minho really started falling for you when you started telling him about all your wonderful stories

- About the outside, bout your own experiences in that maze and much more

- You were just so smart, funny and all around amazing

- You never fail to surprise him

- You also continued to teach something new to Minho everyday weather it be how to kill a griever or the teaching him about wifi password

- Thats when he figured it out, that you are the one

- That you were both capable of making it out the maze and starting a life together

- He can tell by the way you stare up into his eyes, the way your hands glide across his body checking for injuries or the fact that you only had eyes for him

- And the only person who ever uttered the words "i love you" to him

Thomas:

- Thomas had been so caught up with Teresa...not that it ever bothered you but it bothered Thomas

- Yes Thomas liked Teresa but he soon found himself fawning over you

- He's mind would betray him as he would stay up late at night pondering on what you meant to him

- He always wonder about thins like what are you doing right now, what do you dream about or who do you want to be

- Thomas wants someone who will fight and survive the long run, Teresa have proven doubtful

- You made Thomas doubt Teresa but you also made him doubt himself

- Not in a way that made him think badly of himself but in a way that just built him up even more

- Even thought you were always on the side lines you still proved yourself just as important as anyone in the glade

- Thomas looks towards you for guidance, support and most of all love

- When Thomas walked over to your bed kneeled down and started crying in your lap. He knew you were the one through the way your stroked his hair, the warmth of you hands and when you told him "The truth is Thomas, if i could be with anyone..it'd still be you"

- That day you inspired Thomas, you made him feel truly loved.

- You didn't care about his great mistake no, you loved Thomas for Thomas and theres nothing more to it

Newt:

- it did not take him very long to figure it out. Having lost so many people he has loved he definitely didn't plan on losing you.

- The thing that stood out to him the most about you was your undying devotion towards your family.

- You were so selfless and were always willing to help. It didn't matter who it was you were there.

- You always devoted yourself to your work, completing the tasks to the best fo your abilities. Newt was always grateful.

- Newt soon found himself staring at you, that way your messy hair would draped to the sides of your face the occasion strand flying around.

- Newt just couldn't help but admire and adore you, you never wanted to harm anyone and always did what was best. Hence making Newt feel and overwhelming passion to protect you.

- Newt finally fell for you, when he entered into the med jack for a cut had on is hand. The way your soft hands glided over his skin, your soft touch was something he craved.

- Newt soon realised that he wanted you, he wanted you so bad that it kinda hurt.

- Newt couldn't stand when you started getting close to Gally. Thought he understood in you wanted him.

- Newt decided right then and there that he would fight for you, cause you were worth it.

- He want's to hold you and love you for as long as he can. He wanted to live for you and if you get out hope to have a family.

Gally:

- It took a long time for Gally to figure out that he's fallen for you.

- Gally didn't want to admit this fact let alone accept it.

- Sadly Gally only realised he care when he messed up....

- You and Gally got into a heated argument things got bad, some of the things he said hurt but you didn't show it.

- Gally however knew what had to be done, he eventually found you in the deadheads

- This time around Gally finally new how to return the affection.

- Gally wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a forced hug.

- Gally would then apologise and tell how he really felt.

- That he thought your strong, beautiful and the only one for him.

- From there Gally was not afraid of him emotions, you actually taught him how to accept them for what they were. And instead to stop running and grow into a better person.

- Gally will forever be grateful for all the things you taught him.

[thevoidscreams]

I don't care which slashers/killers you do for this BUT...... May I have some killers hcs meeting their male s/o for the first time? 🥺👉👈

also I know I need to get through what little writings I have planned done and out so I can do these in return and maybe do somethin for ya

I really tried here, I'm sorry if it's not exactly what you wanted. I love these two and I wanted to write more for them. Please let me know if you'd like me to change them at all or if they seem wrong.

Ghostface:

Danny Johnson did not have a tolerant upbringing. His family, despite lacking any sort of faith, was a family built on the foundation that men only slept with women. That's just how it was and that that was how nature had kept things going. When Danny realized he didn't just get hard when looking at naked girls however, life became a lot harder. Literally.

Collage was the escape he needed. He took off and never looked back. Ghosting his family before it was a regular thing. He could finally be who he really was.

The first time he saw you was at a party and he knew something was different. Just introducing himself felt like a life or death situation, he couldn't fuck this up. Some deep part of him needed you to like him, needed you to want him. Danny man not have called it love at first sight but it was definitely something. When you left you took his number and promised to hang out later. You had similar schedules so it would be easy. Right?

You threw a wrench into every plan he'd set in place. All his aspiring affairs with other people died the moment you gave him your name. Your perfect name.

Danny begins every morning thinking about you and would lay down at night with you on his mind till he faded into sleep. Everyday for months you plague his thoughts. Your chill sessions are basically dates in his mind. Even if it's just bumming it on the dorm couches with Mariocart and eating cheap greasy pizza. He cherishes every moment. It has to be more, he thinks, your too nice, too friendly and some of your remarks could be taken as flirting. You're not like this with your other friends. Just with him.

He plans to ask you out but for the first time in his life he's scared by the idea of getting a no. The thought of being rejected by you makes him feel legitimately sick to his stomach. What if he's misread all your signals and your disgusted by his advances. What if you call him all the awful things his old high-school friends did when he came out to them. He needs you to know how he feels, keeping it all in is making him feel anxious.

He was mulling it over in his mind when he got a call, answering it to hear your voice caused a sudden feeling of euphoria within him. "Hey, can we meet up?" Your voice was shaky and you sounded unsure. But Danny agreed right away, assuring you he had the time and was happy to meet up.

You two got coffee together all the time but today there was something more to it. The way you laughed and bumped his shoulder with your fist, the way you smiled awkwardly like you were trying to keep something from him. Danny was getting worried as he looked down at you. "Is everything alright shortstake? You seem off today."

You took a deep breath and looked him right in the eyes. "DannyIlikeyou" you blurted out cheeks red and eyes wide in panic. "I'm sorry I just I couldn't do it anymore," you looked away, "keeping it all in made me feel so awful and I just needed you to know. I'll understand if you don't feel the same way about me and if you don't want to see me again I'll understand that too but-"

He kissed you, right there in front of all of the coffee shop patrons and employees. To his amazement a few people wooped and clapped.

Danny pulled away, he took his coffee in one hand and then your hand in his other.

"Let's go somewhere more private."

He led you to a little pond, there were ducks and water lilies. It was quiet, peaceful, the perfect place to have a heart to heart.

The talk that followed was long and he explained at great lengths how he felt about you.

You confirmed some of the things he suspected, embarrassed by how easily he read you. At the end of it all you were both a bit teary eyed.

"So I guess what I'm trying to say here is, I love you." You did cry after hearing that, so happy and relieved he felt the same way. You kissed him, and he responded in kind, with only the ducks as witnesses this time. They didn't make a peep about the kiss....but they did quack.

Thomas Hewitt:

Tommy knew something was different the first time he met you. You were just a new hire at the meat plant but he couldn't take his eyes off you. The poor thing didn't know what to do. So he just watched. Intrigued by the feelings he felt when he did.

"Good morning Thomas." You'd nod as you passed him to get to your work station. He'd grunt in reply and nod. Happy to see you.

"Hey Tom, lunch time! Thank God for lunch breaks am I right?" Your hand was firm as you passed him, clapping his shoulder. He liked when you touched him, no one ever touched him unless he was also being yelled at. But your touch was different and it was good.

"See ya tomorrow Tommy." You groaned tiredly after a long shift, promising to see him tomorrow. He hoped to see you everyday for the rest of his life.

It was a system, a pattern, it was something Tommy relied on, like a clock, you were on time and followed the routine.

Except this morning, you weren't here. The supervisor was passing by to inspect the work station.

"Where the hell is that freaky bastard at?" He asked pointing to your station. Tommy shrugged, he didn't know, probably the bathroom. "Yeah well you might want to keep your distance, I heard from some the other guys that he's one of them men lovers. If it were up to me he'dhave never come here, but the boss says we're 'short staffed'." The snicker that bubbled up from him was disgusting and he mouthed off a few insults and slurs before walking off to finished his rounds.

Tommy was angry, more than usual at least. He wanted to take that supervisor's head and crush it under his mallet. Instead he stripped his apron off and went to the bathroom. Still a tiny part of him was happy, glad to know he wasn't alone.

The bathroom was never locked, it couldn't be, the lock was broken and building management was too cheap to replace it. So Tommy pushed through the door and listened. A soft rhythmic sound greeted him. Soft uneven breathing, muffled by the walls of the stall. He knew that sound, it was all too personal to him.

He stepped in front of the stall and their sounds turned panicked like they knew they'd been caught.

He knocked on the wood so gently and as it swung open he confirmed his suspensions. Your eyes were red and swollen, a large bruise on your cheek. Tommy saw red as he looked over your generally disheveled appearance.

You were trying to hide the fact that you'd been crying.

"Hey Tommy, what's happening brother? The uh... supervisor send you in here to find me or something?" When you tried to push past him to get to the sinks Thomas stopped you with one big arm.

"Uh you good?" Your voiced trembled and it torn Tommy apart to hear the man he loved so distressed. His big arms pulled you in, holding your smaller body against his massive one. He just didn't care anymore, he didn't care if you knew, or if the whole world knew. People already called him a freak for the way he looked. They were wrong, Thomas wasn't a freak, not for the way he looked or for the way he felt. Neither were you for that matter. When you hugged him back his heart soared. "Thank you." You cried softly, face buried in his chest.

The gentle giant wiped a tear away, carefully as not to agitated the bruise. He grunted and ran his thumb around the edge of the darkening spot.

"Don't worry about that, some of the guys found out about my...well I'm sure you know or have at least heard." Thomas nodded, still holding you. "We should probably get back to our stations."

Tommy was hesitant but he let you go to wash your face and fix your appearance. Things were going to be hard for the both of you. But hard was nothing new to him he was used to fighting for equal footing with others, fighting to get what he wanted always fighting. But this time it really was something worth fighting for. This time it was you.

[eliemo]

Little Talks

Summary: As Logan starts spending more time with the Duke in an effort to keep him under control, Remus has to come to terms with the fact that the way he treated Logan may have caused lasting damage after all.

TWs: RSD, violent thoughts, strong language, blood mention (it's Remus, what did you expect)

Pairings: Developing friendship. Can be seen as platonic or romantic Intrulogical

Notes: Thank you to @cheshirevalentine for helping me create and edit this. They're amazing and I love them dearly. Their AO3 is here!

Having Logan in his room was… weird.

Remus had known it was going to be happening. Logan had made the offer to stop by Remus’s room and let the Duke bounce his ideas off of someone. He’d let Remus ramble, listen to the flood of intrusive thoughts and gory, outrageous ideas, all so that Thomas wouldn’t have to.

Remus had cheerfully referred to Logic as his “test subject” the first time he’d come in, laughing outright at the way Logan’s face had screwed up in indignation.

He didn’t really plan on actually doing anything to Logan, despite the incredibly dangerous position the light side had put himself into. He mostly just talked, reciting each and every thought that came to his head in detail, watching to see if he could get an entertaining reaction out of the ever-stoic Logan Sanders.

It didn’t really work. Logan was stupidly boring with his stuffy clothes and perfect schedule and condescending eyebrow raises. He didn’t say much the first few times he stopped by, their “talks” only lasting ten-to-fifteen minutes at most, but after a week he seemed to warm up to the idea of talking to Remus a little.

He’d ask questions- ask where Remus had gotten an idea, or ask him to expand on a particularly disturbing thought- and while Remus didn’t always have an answer, it was nice to not be completely shoved aside and ignored for once. Besides, Remus always thought of the best answers to those sorts of things on the spot. He liked the challenge of having to think on his feet.

It was still weird, though. But Logan kept showing up, day after day, and Remus could almost pretend he wasn’t the only one enjoying their talks.

He knew that Logan didn’t want to be here, of course. Their meetings were on his calendar, so it was obviously an obligation. He was doing it so Thomas could get some sleep, and Remus could be a little less of a burden. Of course.

Remus had only only expected it to last a few days, if he was honest. A week at most. He knew he was a lot to deal with, especially alone, and he knew it would only be a matter of time until Logan decided it was all too much and forgot all about their little “arrangement”.

But Logan came back the next week, and the week after that, and soon fifteen minutes turned into twenty, then thirty, and some days he even stayed almost a whole hour.

Remus found he actually felt a little less agitated after Logan left, his head just a tiny bit more quiet. Tormenting Thomas was the closest thing he’d ever had to talking things out, and it was a little discouraging when the reactions were either horrified screams, insults, or pretending he didn’t exist.

Logan actually listened. He listened and engaged.

Remus loved Janus. And Deceit did what he could, but he didn’t have the same tolerance as Logan did for some of the gross things Remus came up with.

Maybe Logic would be open to dissecting something with him sometime…?

-

He should have known it wouldn’t last. Nobody stuck around Remus very long. He always did something to fuck it up.

He really should have known the way he’d treated Logan when he’d first made his appearance would be a problem. Logic separated himself from the Imagination, the side grounded deeply in reality, but a lack of lasting damage didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.

Remus had still hurt Logan to prove a point. And then had promptly moved on and forgotten about it until the next time it was brought up. Sometimes object permanence- or lack thereof- was a pain in the ass.

Remus had been ranting as usual, pacing around his room while Logan watched from the chair. He honestly couldn’t even remember what he was talking about, his mouth moving without much thought as it tended to do.

Whatever it was, he’d gotten worked up and excited, pacing the room, waving and flapping his arms as he talked, smile bright and mischievous and he whirled back to face Logan and-

And Logan flinched back, squeezing his eyes shut as his hands clutched the arm of his chair, shoulders hunched protectively.

It only lasted a second, Logan quickly pulling himself together and compulsively smoothing his tie once again. He seemed to do that when he was trying to pretend he was collected, Remus had noticed. His shoulders uncurled as he leaned forward again, but he wouldn’t quite look Remus in the eyes.

“Continue,” Logan said, when he realized Remus had stopped talking. “You were rambling about...something objectively disgusting.”

“I’m not stupid, you know.” Remus said, crossing his arms and ignoring the stupid, pointless hurt that blossomed in his chest when Logan couldn’t even recall what Remus had been saying. “I saw that.”

Logan blinked, staring at the Duke blankly. “Saw what?”

“You flinched.”

Logan scoffed, adjusting his glasses to avoid meeting Remus’s eyes. Again. “I did no such thing.”

“No, you did. I saw it.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Logan said, jumping right back into that emotionless facade he was so obsessed with. “Are you going to continue?”

Remus couldn’t even remember what he’d been talking about, his head flooded with images of Logan flinching away, eyes wide in terror, scrambling to get away.

Logan with a throwing star embedded in his forehead, with his mouth full of blood, crimson dripping down his forehead and chin, seeping into his pristine clothes and staining his tie. The thoughts seemed to dip into that spiral they always went down, swirling down the metaphorical drain pipe into his metaphorical pit-of-sewage excuse for a brain.

“No,” Remus said, shaking the thoughts away for the moment. Like stirring the cesspool a little so all the muck settled to the bottom. Metaphorically. “I’m good.”

Logan sighed, and Remus stepped away as the logical side stood up from his chair. “Then we’re done for the day.”

“Bye then.”

If there was one thing Remus was good at, it was pretending not to be bothered by the little things, by the way everyone perceived him. He was a terror and a burden, and he enjoyed it. It was funny! He didn’t care if he was liked, intrusive thoughts were never liked.

Remus flopped down on his bed, watching Logan’s back as he left. He was moving quickly, almost panicked, slipping out the door and closing it shut behind him.

Remus didn’t care if the stupid light sides liked him. He never had. But Logan… Logan was scared. Of him.

Scaring people was never the goal. Making Logan flinch like Remus was going to hurt him was never the goal.

Logan would deny it to his grave, of course. He was stupidly stubborn like that, somehow more stubborn than even Remus at times.

He’d insist that Logic had never felt a revolting feeling like fear in his life. He had no feelings on the matter, and Remus couldn’t frighten him because Logan had no feelings at all. Not enjoyment, not dislike, and not fear. Remus was another obligation on his schedule. Something to attend to. Nothing more.

And while Remus knew all of that was true… he also knew Logan was full of shit. He had feelings. His feelings might even be stronger than Patton’s or Roman’s. (Though it was doubtful. Weepy bitches they were- far too emotional for Remus’s tastes.)

And he was afraid of Remus. He’d made that perfectly clear today.

He… didn’t know how to fix that. His job wasn’t to fix problems. He made the problems. It’s better to start now than to never start at all, he supposed.

Well, obviously he had to start by finding a new coping mechanism. Logan was helpful, and possibly the healthiest outlet Remus had ever had, but he wouldn’t force someone who was terrified of him to come sit in his room and listen to him talk about guts and gore for an hour. He would have to find something to do in place of their talks.

A part of him doubted Logan would even come back again. Remus had caught him flinching, and with Remus’s reputation he wouldn’t be surprised if Logan assumed he would use the fear to his advantage.

And yeah, maybe under different circumstances he would have. Scaring people was fun but… not like this.

But that was fine, he could readjust to being alone. He’d done it before. He could lock himself in the Imagination, annoy Janus until he finally snapped and drove him away, maybe even pay Thomas another visit if he really got desperate.

He wasn’t disappointed. He’d gone his whole life without Logan’s company, he had no reason to miss it. It wasn’t fair to miss something he had barely begun to get used to. Logan was annoying and boring and stuck up, and Remus didn’t know why he enjoyed his company in the first place.

Not that he enjoyed it. He didn’t. He didn’t care.

He spent all night feeding himself those repeating lies, preparing to entertain himself all on his own tomorrow, so he was almost more annoyed than surprised when Logan walked right into his room the next day, same time as always.

Remus sat up in bed, watching in disbelief as Logan made his way to the chair and set his notebook on the table, settling in like nothing had changed.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Logan looked up at him, hands folded neatly in his lap. “I said I would make an effort to see you everyday. I put it in my schedule. If I’m not going to be able to make it, I will inform you the day before.”

“Oh,” Remus said, not bothering to move from the bed. “Well, that’s boring and predictable.”

“I prefer to have a schedule rather than do things on a whim. And I’m here now.”

“Yes,” Remus said, shifting to stare blankly at the wall beside Logan’s head. He bet he could spit that far if he really tried. “You are.”

There was a beat of silence that didn’t often exist in Remus’s room. Usually he would start talking right away about whatever late night thoughts he’d been plagued with, chatting on excitedly until Logan cut in to add something dumb and nerdy.

Remus didn’t plan on breaking the silence this time, choosing to sit and quietly dwell on his thoughts on his own, smirking at the utterly baffled look on Logan’s face.

Logan cleared his throat, frowning slightly. “What’s on your mind?”

“Lot’s of things!”

“Are you going to talk about them?” Logan asked. “That is why I’m here.”

“Nah.” He hated this, hated the way Logan was pretending to care, like he didn’t want to get up right now and run as far away from Remus as possible. Just like everyone else. “Intrusive thoughts aren’t always words, Nerdy Wolverine.”

He saw Logan shift uncomfortably, eyes darting briefly to the door, and Remus realized that might not have been the best way to phrase things.

“Ah,” Logan said, sitting back like he wasn’t terrified. “You can always show me instead. That is what I’m here for.”

“I’m good,” Remus said, doing his best to sound uncaring. “It’s gross.”

“Yes, I’m aware it probably is.” Another beat of silence and Logan sighed, standing from his chair. “Remus. The point of me being here is to keep Thomas’s intrusive thoughts under control. We’ve discussed this.”

And Remus knew Logan didn’t actually enjoy Remus’s company, he’d known that from the beginning, but it still hurt to hear. It hurt something fierce, a deep, sharp slash in his chest that he would swear he could feel, that he was just something to “keep under control”.

He pushed the feeling down, flashing Logan a toothy grin that he knew looked ridiculously fake. “Okay.”

Logan sighed again, pushing up his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. Remus wondered if he could frustrate Logic into storming out. “I’m here to help you.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“You do,” Logan argued, like he had any idea. “Surely talking to someone is better than being alone with your thoughts,”

Remus scowled, shoving himself off the bed and stalking past Logan, moving towards one of the various piles of rubble and bones scattered around his room. He bet Logan hated how cluttered it was in here.

“At least my thoughts don’t pretend to care about me.”

Remus kicked idly at something that looked a bit like a spine, staring blankly at the floor as he let his words settle.

“What?” Logan sounded genuinely confused for the first time. “What does that mean?”

“Hm?” Remus glanced over his shoulder, grinning. “What did I say?”

Logan stepped forward, shoes clicking against the floor, echoing against the now silent room. “I do not understand why you’re suddenly being difficult.”

“Suddenly?”

“Yes, suddenly,” Logan said, and Remus turned away again with an eye roll. “We had an arrangement.”

“Did we?”

“Yes.” Logan touched his arm, and Remus yanked away so fast he thought he might have pulled something. “This is beneficial for everyone.”

“Right,” Remus scoffed. “For everyone.”

Logan actually had the audacity to look taken aback, brow drawing in further confusion. “Yes? You have an outlet, and Thomas gets a break.”

“I don’t need it. I can bash skulls in the Imagination.”

“Which is significantly more unhealthy.”

Remus shrugged, kicking another bone until it slammed into the wall. “It’s easy and fun.”

“We were doing fine,” Logan said, trying to move around him so Remus would meet his gaze. “I thought coming in to talk to you was helping.”

“You don’t care,” Remus snapped. “And you don’t want to listen.”

“I want to,” Logan said. “That is why I’m here.”

“Right.”

“I am incredibly busy, Remus,” Logan said, and Remus felt like he was being lectured. “I would not be here if I didn’t want to be.”

“Then get gone!” Remus spun around gesturing to the door. “Just fucking leave already!”

“I think I’d prefer to stay.”

“You said you’re busy,” Remus snarled. “If you’re so busy you don’t need to carve out time for me.”

“I chose to.”

“Thomas can live with intrusive thoughts,” Remus said. “He’ll be fine. Patton and Virgil will ease up eventually. You should be focused on them.”

“I have been.” Logan was still staring at him, and at this point Remus was considering storming out of his own room. “I have time for you.”

“I thought you were busy,” Remus argued, back to being difficult on purpose. “Which is it? Are you busy or do you have time?”

Logan sighed, and now Remus felt like a child throwing a tantrum. “I’ve made time. I’m making time for you.”

“Right.”

“I don’t understand what changed,” Logan said. “I thought you were getting some enjoyment out of our talks.”

“Yeah, I was,” Remus admitted because despite everything, that was the truth. “But you aren’t.”

It took a moment for Logan to respond, no less confused than before. “I am perfectly content.”

“Yeah?” Remus finally turned around to face him, looking the logical side right in the eyes. “Then why did you flinch?”

Logan blinked, shoulders tense, a mix of panic and understanding flickering in his eyes. “I...did not flinch.”

“Yes, you did. Don’t lie.”

It was Logan’s turn to scoff, like Remus was being ridiculous and dramatic. And he often was, but he was serious this time. “I don’t see how one involuntary movement has become such a big deal.”

Remus didn’t look away, even as Logan’s eyes began to wander. “You’re afraid of me.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Logan said. “I do not feel fear.”

“Yes you do.” Remus stepped closer, taking in the way Logan’s jaw clenched. “You have feelings.”

“No I don’t.”

“You do.”

“You’re figuratively jumping to conclusions,” Logan said, quickly changing the subject. “I am perfectly content spending time with you.”

“I’m not jumping to anything,” Remus said. “You’re scared.”

Logan rolled his eyes, hands lifting to brush over his tie before crossing his arms across his chest. Compulsory comfort action.

“You think you saw me flinch once and now you believe that I’m afraid of you, when there is no logical reason to be. You cannot cause any lasting damage to me, so I—”

Remus lifted a hand without warning, fast and sudden like he was going to strike Logan, keeping it frozen in the air as he took in the reaction before him.

Logan flinched back as soon as Remus moved, his own hands moving to protect his face, eyes glued to Remus’s raised arm, widening in genuine fear and shock.

Remus sighed, slowly lowering his hand as he watched Logan struggle to compose himself. “You’re afraid of me.”

“No,” Logan still had the audacity to argue. “I am not.”

“You flinched.”

Logan fixed his tie again. Remus knew it was some kind of nervous tic. “You startled me.”

“I lifted my hand.”

“Yes,” Logan agreed. “Unexpectedly.”

Remus sighed and stepped back out of Logan’s space, too tired to keep arguing.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He winced at his own words, images flashing in his mind of Logan stumbling backwards with wide eyes, of Logan covered in blood, of Patton screaming. “Not again, anyway.”

“Well,” Logan said, carefully clearing his throat. “You can understand that I wasn’t exactly…sure. That does not mean I dislike you. Or that I’m frightened of you.”

Remus found himself looking at his shoes, trying and failing to get images of Logan hurt, Logan dying, out of his stupid cesspool sewage pipe head.

He wondered if this was what guilt felt like. If it was, maybe he should start being nicer to Patton. This sucked dick and balls.

“I won’t.”

“And I appreciate that,” Logan said. “But you could not cause any lasting damage to me anyway.”

“So? It still, like… hurt you. I’m not gonna do it again.”

“Well then, I have no reason to be afraid.” Logan straightened, smiling at Remus like that had just solved everything. “Which I wasn’t in the first place.”

Remus’s eyes narrowed. “You flinched.”

“Yes I did,” Logan admitted. “I apologize for that. I can assure you it won’t happen again.”

Remus didn’t move, staring at Logan in disbelief, at a loss for words for the first time in his life. He hoped the exhaustion on his face resembled a glare at least a little bit.

“I don’t… understand,” Logan said, and Remus couldn't even stay mad at him. “Was an apology not what you wanted?”

“No, Logan. I don’t want anything.”

Logan tilted his head slightly, brow furrowed, and Remus could practically see the gears turning as he looked Remus over. “You’re still upset.”

“Why’re you still here?” Remus finally demanded, throwing his arms out in exasperation. “If you’re afraid of me why don’t you just leave?”

Logan blinked, seemingly unfazed. “Because I enjoy talking to you.”

Logic may as well have just punched him right in the chest, the air leaving his lungs in a rush as he took a step back, choking out a shocked laugh. “That can’t be it.”

Logan frowned. “Why not?”

“Nobody enjoys talking to me.”

“Well,” Logan said slowly, and it was like Remus could see some of his walls coming down. “If it helps, no one particularly enjoys talking to me, either.”

Remus wasn’t entirely convinced that was true, but he figured he wasn’t the right one to give Logan a talk on self esteem.

“I like talking to you,” he said instead. “I just think you’re kinda stuffy.”

“I enjoy talking to you as well,” Logan said, and it really did sound like he meant it. “I would just prefer if your more violent thoughts were not physically manifested.”

“Oh.” Remus swallowed, absolutely refusing to show Logic how much this meant to him. He wasn’t going to cry. “Yeah, I can...do that. Sure.”

“Then I’m glad we could come to an understanding,” Logan said, right back to the stiff, professional persona Remus was learning to see right through. “I’m not afraid of you.”

Remus nodded, and realized he was actually starting to believe him this time. “Yeah. Ok. That’s good.”

Logan stepped back out of Remus’s space and Remus quickly did the same, the two of them standing on opposite sides of the Duke’s now painfully silent bedroom.

“I can leave,” Logan said after a moment. “If you’d still like me to.”

Remus hesitated, fighting to keep acting like he didn’t care. “Do you want to leave?”

“Not particularly,” Logan said, and Remus hadn’t expected to feel so relieved. “But it’s your room. I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not.” Remus moved back to his bed, dropping himself unceremoniously onto his back. “Don’t leave if you don’t want to. I don’t care.”

“Then I’ll stay.”

Logan pulled up his usual chair, leaning back comfortably as he picked his notebook back up and began flipping idly through it. He looked content and relaxed when Remus risked a glance in his direction, and he smiled to himself.

“You can talk if you like,” Logan said, glancing up from the pages. “I’m listening.”

Remus did eventually start talking, dumping his latest ideas on Logan like he usually did, diving into last night’s fantasy of setting an office building on fire in the middle of the week.

Logan had added on, and Remus had listened intently as he’d recited statistics and calculations, the likelihood of survival, and the two of them eventually decided it would be a waste of time, the fire likely to be put out before even causing any real damage to the building.

That was a talent Logan had. He could get Remus to let go of a thought that typically wouldn’t have left him alone for weeks.

It wasn’t until Logan had stood up to leave for dinner, promising he’d be back at the same time tomorrow, that Remus realized Logan had stayed twice as long as he usually did.

Huh.

Weird.

[princecharmingmendes]

Heart by Heart | Chapter III | Raul Mendes

                                               *secret agent AU*

Y/N and Raul have been friends ever since they could remember. And falling in love with your best friend can be pretty tricky and messy 99% of the times, add that to the fact they're constantly risking their lives side by side on the field since they're both secret agents, and the best team that's ever existed. Perfect recipe for disaster.

Hi, this is the third chapter of this series, you can find the first one here. Please read the warnings on this one, if you don't feel comfortable with the contents listed on the "warnings" section, please read something else, there are a lot of other works on my masterlist and on the "fic rec" hashtag on my blog. Please give me some feedback and I hope you guys like. Happy Reading!

                                 previous chapter | masterpost | next chapter

*Word Count: 4.1K+

*Warnings: cursing, probably wrong tips about physical fighting (I'm sorry, I know shit about it!),  therefore mentions of physical fight (only training though), jealousy if you squint.  

Please don’t read it if any of this subjects make you uncomfortable, feel free to check my masterlist for other writings. 

*Posted: July 15th, 2021.

                                                   -*-

Y/N wishes she could punch Raul’s perfectly aligned teeth and annoying smirk away. 

Ever since their mission was announced a couple of days ago, Raul made her work out hard, harder than she’s been doing for a while. It’s not like she was in a bad shape, she couldn’t exactly avoid training being constantly sent on field missions. But since she normally stood on a far safe distance, she didn’t need to run 10 miles everyday on the treadmill or on the streets -which was her best friend’s preferred spot since the terrain was irregular and they had to be alert every single minute so they don’t end up being hit by a car. And that’s precisely what he made her do. 

They had to be at work at 8:00 a.m. every day, so Raul picked her up at 5:30 so they could have breakfast before their run, she’d then curse him on the way back to her apartment so they could get ready. He would only laugh at her, promising it would be worth it. Then they’d go into a meeting to discuss final details with the people they picked to form their team. After a long meeting arranging mostly details and cover up stories, they’d go to lunch, only to come back and train using the new gear, shooting and physical fight. The group had to be ready to face pretty much everything imaginable, the risk of this mission was like no other Y/N could remember, so they had to be the best of the best. 

So yeah, maybe Raul was just being careful, but she was sure he was only finding new ways to torture her. 

That’s why the team consisted on Raul as the captain, or co-captain as she liked to tease, and Y/N as the responsible for the strategy. There was Jack who was picked to be Raul’s right hand on the field, he was an experienced agent and has worked with him on many occasions, meaning their chemistry on the field was great. He was a huge, strong man with the sweetest and kindest heart, always laughing out loud and making jokes around. Then there was Celine. Celine’s past is a mystery no one was able to figure out, at least not yet. She was not a person of many words, always quietly watching everyone and everything, ready to shoot the first one that comes her way. Despite being Daphne’s cousin, who was all soft touches and pastel colors, Celine was brutally honest and even a little blunt, but had a great soul with good intentions, maybe just not the best person skills on the team.

And despite all that, she seemed to like Y/N for some reason, wasn’t the biggest fan of Raul, but she didn’t deny he was a great agent. So Y/N picked her cause she trusted her with her life, knowing she would do anything necessary to finish their mission. And then there was Thomas. Tommy as Raul liked to tease, was a newly turned full agent (three month ago to be precise) and still lacked a bit of that intuition only time and experience could give you, nonetheless he was a suggestion the boss made herself. Thomas was a great agent, with fresh ideas and still a bit naive, but he was quick at thinking, new a lot about tech and was a great field agent high made him a lot more complete than older ones. And with that, the team was closed and all worked out together after lunch until their bodies gave out. 

And to make it simple, the beginning was hellish, the end of the week was just like the beginning. 

The first day they started training physical combat, she was paired with Celine, which she was sure was attempted murder. Five minutes fighting she was on the floor, unable to move and breathing hard. Raul quickly climbed on the ring, helping her to get up as he told Celine to replace him with Tom. He moved her to sit on the little bench and brought her a bottle of water as she shook her head. 

“You know I can walk and do this myself, right?”

Raul huffed an amused laugh and nodded, sitting beside her “of course I do, doll, just taking care of my girl, yeah?”

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, bumping his shoulder with hers as she chugged the water down “maybe I’m way worst than I originally thought”

“No, you’re not bad” he said shaking his head and she let out an annoyed breath “I mean it, you’re just rusty, this is not your field anyway, and you can’t use any weapons on the ring, so it’s harder, come on, you just need to activate muscle memory”  Raul said patting her back as he got up. 

“Wish I could believe in myself like you do” she giggled sadly as she took his bigger outstretched hand, letting him pull her up.

“Me too, but don’t worry, we’ll get there, that’s why you have me, silly” he pinched her cheeks “now come on, you’ve got a lot to remember”

He took her to the punching bags, grabbing a pair of gloves for him to wear for her to punch. Then proceeded to bark orders and different combinations of moves, and surprisingly, she remembered most of them, not necessarily executing them perfectly, but it was a start. He then got rid of the gloves before carefully wrapping her hands and moving her to a punching bag. 

“Here’s the thing, doll, you know what you’re doing, you just need to do it better” He placed his hands on her shoulders straightening her position, one hand sliding down her right arm to correct the movement “try it now” he said, his warm breath on her ear, making her suppress a shiver and forcing her to focus on the bag in front of her. 

Y/N tried and it definitely improved, but it still wasn’t what she remembered doing, something felt off “okay, yeah, thanks”

“Good, now fix your legs, you’ll be fighting someone who possibly knows how to fight back, so rearrange your feet to gain more balance in case they come for you” he instructed, hands still on her shoulders as he used his own feet to fix hers in the floor “yeah, that’s it, now the strength” his gently glided down her arms, only for them to stop at her waist and stomach “this is where you have to focus on, contracting abdominal muscles will help the movement and impact of your punch, this is what you’re missing”

She knew he wasn’t necessarily teasing her or anything, this was just Raul trying to help her in his very touchy way, but that didn’t stop Y/N from becoming a bit speechless, not trusting her own voice to respond, she only nodded her head. To which he just laughed stepping back.

“Relax your shoulders and don’t forget how to breathe, doll” he said crossing his arms above his chest as he watched her finally letting go of her breath, taking a deep one before punching a few times

It wasn’t perfect, but it was almost there.

Raul knew she was good and completely capable of taking anyone down within seconds, her grades on every test they ever took serving as even more proof for them. She just needed to remember it a bit and he wanted her to be completely ready to face anything, he couldn’t afford her getting hurt on anybody’s watch, specially his. So he would do anything he possibly could to avoid that. 

“Good, now give a few more, try a few kicks” he said and she looked back at him to nod, her breathing a bit elaborate  “I’ll meet on the ring later, sweetheart” Raul added with a wink before turning around to see the rest. 

“Fuck you” he heard her mumbling before turning back to her task at hand, making him chuckle lightly as he moved around the gym. 

Raul walked around helping as he could, wrestling with Jack for old time’s sake, adjusting a few of Tom’s moves and helping Celine with the new guns they’re given. He even managed to train a bit himself, before he decided it was time to take her to the ring before Y/N gave up on him and moved to something else. So he walked up to find her talking to Jack, he couldn’t hear much, but he heard enough to know it was time to intervene. 

“-yeah, Adrian keeps asking me about you, I think he wants to take you out, you should go, he’s a great guy and word around he’s good in what he does, if you know what I mean” he teased wiggling his eyebrows at Y/N, making her giggle “you should go out with him, really, you’re both single”

“He can ask her out when we’re back, the only date she’s having for now is on the ring, come on, doll” Raul cut the conversation before he could listen to her reply. 

“Jealous, cap?” Jack asked with a lopsided smile on his lips as she just laughed.

“Of Y/N? All the time, a pretty girl like her always has everyone’s attention, you should see whenever we go out to eat something or whatever”

Y/N rolled her eyes “oh please, shut up, both of you”

“I mean it, doll, now come on, let’s see how you improved” he said cracking his knuckles “and you, haven’t you got anything better to do than gossip?”

“Of course not, I’m all done” Jack replied.

“Done of getting your ass beaten today, you’ll only be ready whenever you’re able to take me down” Raul said as he draped his arm around Y/N’s shoulder. 

Jack only threw a middle finger at Raul as both of the boys laughed. 

Y/N and Raul climbed on the closest ring, with her stretching a bit as he did the same, both in some sort of staring competition. Everything with them could easily become a competition -who drank water fastest, little races to get to a certain place, who could count the most amount of super specific cars on a road trip, but the most common and their personal favorite, staring competition. And that was a recurring thing ever since they’re basically babies. And they both hated loosing and would try as hard as they could to beat the other. 

Raul’s mind was racing. He wanted to ask if she was actually interested in someone at if she’d say eyes to whoever wanted to ask her out, or even if she actually looking for a date or maybe even if she didn’t want a serious relationship for now. All that while he had this beautiful sparkling with excitement eyes staring into his soul, leaving him bare for her to read. Meanwhile, she was only trying to concentrate on what was about to happen and also on trying to keep her heart at a normal pace, knowing full well she was about the get really close to her best friend. Also having the other stare at her so intently it was making it hard for her to breathe properly.

“Ready?”

Raul only smiled at her “Was born ready, doll”

Y/N then surged forward, getting him by surprise with her punch landing on his shoulder, and he had to admit, her punch was good. With the element of shock on her favor, she tried hitting him again, clearly avoiding his face. Raul then stepped forward regaining his composure and cornering her slowly, only blocking her attempted attacks, without fighting back. He then was kicked hard on the thigh, a surprised yelp leaving his lips with the painful sensation spreading through his muscles, and just as she was about to hit him in his chest, he grabbed her hand, the other being quick to join his grasp on his right hand. 

“Not so bad, sweetheart” he said with a triumph smile on his lips but she was quick to get her left hand loose moving around to get out of the space he guided her to limit her space.

Then she started her series of punches and kicks again, him dodging most of them, but still being hit a few times making him proud but at the same time breath heavier on the pain spreading on his abused skin. When her hand came to hit him in the chest again, he grabbed it, already bringing the other one to join, before bringing her to the floor and immobilizing her with his own body. Y/N stopped struggling quickly, knowing she wasn’t going to be able to do much to get out of his grasp. She was panting heavily, but it was worth it, cause she was able to make him sweat and be a little less composed than when they started. 

“Bet your secret admirer would be proud” Raul said still unmoved on top of her.

“Bet he would” Y/N sassed back and Raul chuckled, dropping his head to her collarbone and she swear her heart skipped a beat, her breath hitching on her throat. 

Raul got up, offering a hand to her, which she gladly took “are you going out with him?”

“I don’t know, I don’t even know if that’s true or the guy, maybe? I think this is not the moment, so maybe i’m the future, who knows?” she shrugged, grabbing her water bottle and drinking before offering it to him.

“Yeah, you’re probably right” he said closing it again, pulling the ropes for her to step out.

Y/N turned around to face Raul, and as she waited for him she asked “what about you?”

“Me? What about me?” Raul stared at her, noticing the others were already gone.

“Are you proud?” she asked with a teasing smirk, voice playful, but deep down, that was all that mattered to her. Not Adrian or anyone else.

“I’m always proud of you, doll” he smirked at her and she only shook her head giggling “but yes, you’re good at it, just a bit more practice, you’re a natural”

                                                  -*-

“Come on, sweetheart, climb up here and I’ll let you all go so you can get ready for tomorrow” Raul said as he was propped up by the hopes on the ring, a smirk on his lips as everyone started gathering around. 

It was the last day of preparing before they left the next morning. They’ve spent the whole week perfecting their skills and cover ups until it rolled out smoothly off their tongues. Y/N and Raul started a routine, they decided to set camp on his living room since it was a lot bigger than hers, so they would wake up already on his place, grab breakfast, run for a while before going straight to work. Then they’d meet their teammates for a brief discussion, after hitting the gym until their limbs gave out. When it neared 6 p.m., they’d leave for his place where they’d shower and order takeout or cook something simple, before talking until they fell asleep, most nights on the living room.

And despite she remembered as clear as day she fell asleep on the couch, she would wake up on his bed, wrapped on a heavy duvet, with the sound of water droplets hitting the ground from his bathroom. They never talked about it, both acting as if this routine was normal and settled for years now. And it was shocking how well they fit the role of this whole domestic situation. And Peter was loving it, always throwing knowing looks at her whenever she went to visit his lab area. 

Y/N only rolled her eyes at him and Celine bumped her shoulder on Y/N’s, a feline smile gracing her sharp gorgeous features, and then  she turned to the six feet man standing at the edge of the ring “fine, but you’re buying me dinner”

“Whatever you want, and if you’re able to win, I’ll even buy sushi for you and give you a back massage” he offered as he pulled the ropes to help her climb, bowing his head trying to hold back a chuckle.

She climbed on as he let the rope snap back into its place “And what would I have to do if I loose?” she teased, knowing full well she was going to take the offer only to have a chance to rub his smirk on the dirty and sweaty ground beneath her feet.

“Pack my bag and say I’m the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid your eyes on” he stated simply. And honestly, it wouldn’t be such a hard thing to do, but first, she wouldn’t want to add it to his already over inflated ego, second, she didn’t know if she would be able to say it without blurting out some other compromising feelings. 

But Y/N stares at him and smiled lazily, like she wasn’t bothered at all  and truly contemplating his offer “tempting”

“Come on, babydoll” he mockingly pouted at her and she playfully sighed rolling her eyes, cracking her knuckles and rolling her head. 

“Alright, but you better be ready to order from my favorite place and get me dessert” she added with a pointed look and he nodded eagerly. 

“You make the rules” he winked before walking backwards to his designated spot “ready?”

“Yeah, let’s get this over it so you can buy me dinner” she teased, watching from the corner of her eyes as her teammates and even Peter gathered around to watch “or we can just stay here all night watching you brag about yourself and being all talk no action”

Raul laughed before shaking his head and a more concentrated look latch onto his eyes “don’t hold back, sweetheart”

“Not my thing” she said before taking a deep breath and trying to remember all she learned this week, making her first move.

Raul blocked her relatively easily, and then their movements flowed in an intricate rhythm. With only a few days of training, the improvement on her technique was obvious as she maneuvered a lot more gracefully than before. Her hits a lot more consistent, her defense was up and she was able to notice her opponents weakness so she could plan the next move. Y/N was also able to notice patterns on their tactics and predict their next move. 

And he was a bit shocked. In a good way, but shocked nonetheless. 

He knew she was good, Raul’s seen her training before, saw all her tests and grading throughout the years. Hell, he even taught her a lot of tricks he picked up over the years, so he knew how she behaved on a physical fight, knew her favorite moves and her worst ones like the back of his hand. But she surprised him with a few new hits and tricks he hasn’t seen her doing before. And that’s what caught him off guard and made her hit him hard a couple of times. That made Raul proud. Sure, he would loose the bet, but giving her a back massage, buying her food and seeing her happy after defeating him was priceless. 

He didn’t make it easy for her, he never would. He wanted her to be the best of the best, always. So he hit back, avoiding her head or going to strong, she had to be whole for the other day. But that didn’t stop him from trying to take her down, but she was quick, she wasn’t too strong, but her agility made up for it.

“Come on, we have an audience, we should put on a show”

Y/N shook her head, concentration never leaving her determined eyes “I’m not an actress to entertain a crowd, nor a clown like you, baby”

“Hey!” he sounded offended, grabbing her fist in his bigger hand “rude”

She just shrugged, pulling her hand back before going back into action and it couldn’t be even more exciting. The teasing, the meaningless banter and still great performance on the wrestle was enough to put an ease on Raul’s heart. She could do it. Of course she could, but now there would be less collateral damage. 

So when he felt her kick him to the ground, quickly pinning him to the rubber type material floor, immobilizing him in a way he wasn’t even able to move his arms if she didn’t let go. Y/N was sat on his stomach, face hovering centimeters above his, breath on frantic rhythm, as he panted on her face, feeling the slow pain crippling on his back and limbs where it collided with the floor. Raul couldn’t help but smile at the surprised and amused glint on her eyes as she was slowly processing she was able t take him down. The cheerful screams around them were only white noise as they stared at each other’s eyes, and he already felt like his heart was going to burst with pride and happiness, that until he heard the gleeful flightless leaving her lips as realization finally hit her, her forehead hitting his clavicle as she laughed, pure joy coursing through her veins.

He ended up laughing with her, his cheeks hurting from the smile stretched across his face. Y/N nuzzled her face on his neck still buzzing happily as she laughed. Raul turned his head lightly, only enough to press a kiss to her temple as she recovered her breathing. 

When she finally did, she untangled her legs from his, getting up from his torso and offering a hand at him, which he gladly took as he stood up, facing his colleagues as they still laughed and cheered at her. Celine climbed up to meet her with a quick, sharp, strong hug in congratulations before dragging her down with her. Jack was quick to pat Raul on the back as he chuckled, mumbling a ‘good luck with your girl, dude, she’s a badass and you’re gonna need it’. When he finally met her eyes again, he offered her his hand and Y/N automatically took it, letting him pull her closer until she was in his arms. 

“That was insane, doll, shit, you did so good” he said, arms loosely looped around her waist and she beamed proudly at him. 

“I did work hard for that” Y/N shrugged trying to play it coy but he was only able to chuckle.

Raul nodded “yeah, I noticed, and I’m so fucking proud of you for that, and many more reasons, but that?! You’re the fucking best, you know?” he praised and she felt her body heating up. 

“Actually” she said softly, looking down at his silver necklace “Celine���s the best, she showed me a few new tricks that I combined with the ones you taught me and the ones I already knew, so yeah”

“When did that even happen?” he didn’t try hiding his initial shock. They’ve been basically around each other 24/7, how did he not notice her training with someone else the past week?

“Well, to be fair you’re too cocky for your own good” Y/N had that pointed look in her eyes as she poked him on his broad chest “so I kinda asked her to show me how I could take you down and we’ve been doing it in secret, mostly when you went down to meet with Peter or to practice shooting”

“So it was a whole scheme just to try to embarrass me and knock me out?” he’s tone in a playful accusation as his brows shot up in evident disbelief.

“To sum it up, yeah, pretty much” she shrugged innocently as Raul threw his head back laughing.

“That's fucking awesome, you’re amazing” he said letting go of her waist, only to turn to face their team, dropping his arm around her shoulders “alright, guys, it was a hard week but I believe it paid off. We learned a lot with each other and I believe we’re a lot better now. This is still a fucked up mission, but I think we’re ready to face it and as long as we keep on working together and communicating well, we’ll be alright and coming back home as soon as possible, yeah? Think we should call it a day and test tonight”

“Okay, cap” Tom replied eagerly making Y/N chuckle before shaking her head. 

“So what do you say, cap?” Y/N asked teasingly as the others laughed.

Raul smiled down at her as he shook his head “Think we’re ready, doll”

                                                   -*-

*Please reblog or like this post if you liked it so I’ll know.

*I’m sorry if there are any spelling mistakes.

*Please do not repost this without giving me the credit, this is a completely original piece and I do not give permission to copy this!

*Hope you guys enjoyed it!

*xoxo

-🌙

@mariamuses

[shadowturtlesstuff]

To-do list

i have no idea when i posted last, it has been a while. sorry, but i have been a little sick and unmotivated but alas, i am back with the normal cressworth. i read a post by @ink-insomnia about thomas making a list with absurd things (kissing audrey rose, being a god amongst men) so i made a fic out of it. it is pure fluff, pure ecresswell being dramatic. enjoy!

Audrey Rose has always claimed I am less organised than her. Despite my plans that surprise her in everyday life, I am more scattered. I disagree of course, Audrey Rose may be meticulous in how she leads her life but I am just the same even if she doesn't realise it. My sporadic ideas are part of my charm. Nonetheless I have devised a plan to help convince my love of her mistake. I shall leave a list of plans on our shared desk, much like she does, in order to show how organised I can be if I tried but I tend to make plans that are open to changes whereas she does not. I also rarely write my plans down but my darling wife loves to sit us down to make plans so she feels comfortable in the knowledge she wont forget an important date. 

~

I watch my ridiculous husband write something at our desk, a small smirk playing at his lips meaning only one thing: he is up to something that will only be bad. I roll my eyes and leave the door quickly before he spots me watching him. We had spent the weekend at Thomas's holiday home, taking a much needed break after one of the longest cases we’ve ever experienced. We were only going to take the weekend off but uncle had decided to take the entire week off so Thomas insisted we do the same. Perhaps that insistence has something to do with what he is writing now. 

Sir Isaac walks out of one of the spare rooms, his room as Thomas claims, despite the beast sleeping in our room and pestering us in every room but that one. However, every time I mention that to him he waves me off saying our little baby needs his own space and it's not his fault he adores us so much he stays with us as much as possible. I smile at the memory of him telling me that he was lying in bed playing with the cat, using one of the many toys he has brought to keep the cat occupied. I had brought up some breakfast for us both, as well as coco for thomas. He gave me a wide smile and came to me as soon as the door opened, taking the tray from me and setting it down, wrapping me in a hug that made sir Isaac jealous enough to start climbing up my leg. He laughed at my scowl and thus began that conversation. 

The cat walks alongside me as I set myself down in the kitchen, resuming the book I was reading earlier this morning. We sit in silence until Thomas enters the room, a smirk that only results in problems, one that he is trying to hide from me. 

I debated just asking him what he's done but he would not tell me so easily. Instead I chose to ignore that smirk and ask: “how are you, love?’”

“Perfect darling, how are you, how is the book?” He sits beside me and starts stroking our cat who purrs loudly at the attention. 

“I’m well, the book is interesting, mostly, though I am wondering whether I should find another for the night.” my own plan formulates as I begin to stand in order to go to our room and find a new book and peek at what he was writing. He holds my gaze with a knowing look. Of course he knows what I'm going to do, but the question is, will he let me? 

To my surprise he does and I make my way upstairs. I place my book on the desk, moving around the papers and finding what could be what he wrote today. It is a list. I bite back a laugh as I begin to read.                         

 To-do list

-Be a god amongst men (as always)

-Get Audrey Rose to call me a scoundrel

-Kiss Audrey Rose

No longer do I bite back my laugh. My husband took to heart my complaints about his jokes about lists. Well, almost. In his own fashion of course. I put it back and go to our bookshelf to find another book, contemplating whether or not to tell him I know his plan or make my own just for fun for him to deliberately find. I was fully aware he knew I would look for it, which leads me to believe he saw me standing in the doorway but refused to look at me. He was infuriating at times, but little did he know I would play his absurd games. ‘A god amongst men’ was completely foolish, and the fact he wrote about kissing me, as if it was some hard task or something that was to plan for. Sitting, I picked up the discarded pen and wrote my own to-do list.                                      

  To do list

-stop whatever my foolish husband has planned

-kiss said husband

-remind Thomas to act his age

I put the list inside the book and walked back downstairs, to the kitchen where there was a familiar sight of Thomas and sir Isaac playing on the kitchen counter. I smiled at the peaceful sight, a wave of gratitude washing over me. Every case, very close calls made me cherish these smaller moments more. Every ridiculous act of Thomas he got to do just to make me smile was something I felt could be snatched away from us so I stood for a second and let them play. I set my book down, opening it so the note was visible but folded so Thomas had to open it up. 

“Found one?” He asks not to turn to face me because our cat demands attention and Thomas always complies. 

“Yes. enjoying playing?”

“Of course,” this time he turned and winked and I nearly blurted out ‘scoundrel’ but I didn't want to make completing his list easy. Instead I sat and moved the sheet of paper and opened the book and began reading. Silence descended for a while until I felt Thomas's hands around my waist. Instinctively I leaned into him, savouring his warmth and love. He kissed my temple as sir Isaac jumped onto the table and nudged my book, forever in need of our attention. Thomas, as usual, obliges by scratching his head then he reaches for the discarded page.

“What is this love?”

“A list, but also a bookmark.”

“Another list?” He smirks at me and flips it open, reading the list and then I hear his laugh fill the room. I should have added to make Thomas laugh, although that is my goal everyday even if I never go out of my way to try and make him laugh. If his laugh was the only sound I could hear I would still be happy. “My love,” he sets the list down, a smile still graces his face as he squeezes my side, “i agree with only one of these, I’m sure you can guess which one.” he adds a wink.

I roll my eyes and mutter scoundrel. Of course he would focus on the kiss and not the fact I implied he is an immature child that is pranking his wife. Again. 

“I have a list of my own, but I’m sure you already know that, and one thing on my list was to hear you call me a scoundrel as it is my favourite word to hear from you. Your filthy mind truly amazes me.” 

I twist and face him, eyes narrowed. “My filthy mind? You are ridiculous Thomas. Why did you make that list?”

“I wanted to understand your obsession with them. I think I do now.” 

I roll my eyes at him but all he does is press a kiss to my forehead. Both of his hands rest on my hips again and he gives me a soft smile. “My love, may I kiss you, and complete something off both our lists?” he asks, moving his head so it rests on mine. My absurd husband makes it hard to be mad at him, or even annoyed. Even though this began with him mocking my habit of making lists, even unintentionally mocking me, i have to admit this has been a fun game and knowing my husband he will keep doing this now as ways to distract us from cases or just to kiss me. Even though he can kiss me at any point now. 

I lean into him, pressing my lips to his and I feel him smile into our kiss. His hands reach up and cups my cheek, his other tightens slightly on my waist. My own hands rest against his chest as he deepens the kiss. We stay like that, lost in each other until our cat nudges my back making me jump. I curse as Thomas laughs at me, sir Isaac finding his way onto my lap. I scratch the little pests' ears. 

“I finished my list before you, I kissed you, you called me a scoundrel and I am always a god amongst men.” he winked at me, picking up sir Isaac and moving to sit across from me. I twist, looking at my own list. He out-does himself sometimes with his dramatic nature. 

“Thomas, neither completed the list, I can never stop your immature games, and you cannot be a god amongst men. It's absurd you even put that.”

“I can, love, and this wasn’t immature, it was-”

“Foolish? Childish?” 

“Okay fine, it was a tad childish, I never meant to mock your list making by the way, I just thought it would be fun and to prove I can make lists to you.” 

“It wasn’t just a tad childish, but Thomas love, I know you can make them you just choose not to, and there are more things we can do than make lists for each other. We needn’t make lists just to kiss each other. We’re married, if you want to kiss me, kiss me.” 

He smirks, the cresswell charm in full effect, “you are obsessed with kissing me.” he leans over the table and kisses me. 

The rest of the week follows similar patterns, sir isaac always interrupting our kisses, Thomas being dramatic and a constant smile on both of our faces. We are both reluctant to leave, to start work again, but we pack our bags and return to our home, uncle already with a case ready for us to uncover.

@fangirling-again @kittycat2187 @goatahoan @city-of-fae @purplecreatorhorsewagon @boredbookwormgirl @goddess-of-writing-wars @lovecakeandmore @yikesitsmaddie @loveyatopluto @bookscressworth @androgynousdeputylawyershoe @fandomtakeover @throneoftsc @the-hoofflepooff

(Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list)

[carstairsstan]

The Last Hours Oneshot

This is my first fic!!!

***Cordelia’s POV***

“I am so going to beat you,” Cordelia said confidently, keeping her eyes focused on what she is doing.

“Not if I win,” James shot back with equal confidence.

Cordelia could hear the soft, steady chant of her name from their friends, Lucie, Matthew, Thomas, Christopher, Anna, Eugenia(she was waiting for her group of friends), and Jesse(because Lucie came and Grace is on her way), in the background. She was a champion at this. She would not-no could not lose to James. This was easy as breathing, this was her childhood. When she completed a difficult obstacle, all their friends started cheering even The Merry Thieves, but was quickly shushed by both James and Cordelia before stating that the competitors were going to get distracted if they kept cheering for every little thing. James was pretty good at this, he made everything fast paced and she could barely keep up but she knew that she was the best, no one could beat her. Well except for her cousin, Emma Carstairs. But that doesn’t matter here because she was going to crush James. 

“She was the best.” “She was the best.” “She was the best.” 

After a few minutes, it was clear that she was in the lead.

“Oh come on Cordelia, couldn’t you just let me win one game,” whined James.

“Tough luck,” she bit out before returning her focus to what she was doing.

There was something in his voice that most people wouldn’t hear. She suspected that he had a trick up his sleeve. She was in the lead but who knows how long.

Distantly she heard the door to the room open. It was most likely Alastair and his friends, Grace and Ariadne. Now there is no way she was going to lose because if she did then he would tease her about it for the rest of her life.

***Alastair’s POV***

“Oh no, they're at it again,” Alastair said exasperated.

“So you didn’t expect that?” Kamala(Ariadne) asked, as she flipped her black hair mocking surprise. 

Alastair threw a chip at her.

“Of course they are,” Grace said as she laughed, her grey eyes alight.

Grace rarely laughed, but now she was getting better at laughing more and more openly. Her laugh called the attention of Christopher Lightwood a.k.a. Kit. The resident scientist and the second one of the Merry Thieves to forgive him. Which drags his mind to the first to forgive him… No he wouldn’t think of him now, later would be fine. Grace and Christopher were partners in the science lab because of their mutual interest in science. Nobody except Grace and Henry could understand his scientific rants/discoveries. 

“Hello Grace, nice to see you,” said Kit enthusiastically smiling. It was quite obvious that Christopher liked Grace, but who knows when he is going is going to find the courage to ask her out.

She smiled back at him. And then people started screaming. Apparently, James made a comeback and they were cheering him on. 

Without even thinking Grace, Kamala, Alastair, James, and Cordelia screamed at the same time, “shut it!”

While some were dumbfounded by the simultaneous order, others just knew it was a reflex to loud noises.

***Thomas’s POV***

As soon as Alastair walked into the room the rest of the world disappeared. He wasn’t looking at him but that was to be expected if they wanted to keep their relationship secret. Well not for long they were supposed to tell them today after they both get their friends in a good mood. They had already told Eugenia, Grace, and Kamala. He was looking especially gorgeous today. Well, he looks like this everyday so... He would have sat there watching Alastair chat with his friends and eating chips from the corner of his eyes all day long if it weren’t for the very loud interruption which included everyone who was sitting jumping up and screaming. Except James. Cordelia threw her gaming controller on the sofa and smirked at James.

“So am I going to get that $100 from our bet or no,” Cordelia said smugly. Just like her brother he thought.

“No”

“That’s not an option,” replied Cordelia without missing a beat.

James scoffed and handed her a 100 dollar bill. Cordelia held the bill in the air triumphantly like one would hold a trophy.

Alastair cleared his throat and said, “If you lot are done cheering then I was thinking we could go to the movies to celebrate.

It was a lazy excuse to get the group in a good mood because it is not a regular Alastair thing to do in their eyes. But it works because a chorus of oks and sures echo around the room. Cordelia leaps up and announces that she is going to go change from her pajamas. Eventually everyone leaves the room to go get their things and get ready to leave. Only Grace, Eugenia, Kamala, Alastair, and Thomas himself were left. Alastair smiled a smile that lit up his whole face. He came and sat at the arm of the chair Thomas was sitting at and kissed him. And then Cordelia walked in.

***Cordelia’s POV***

Cordelia walked into something she wished she could unsee as a little sister, but she was happy that Alastair had found someone who deserved him. Though the frightened faces told her that she might need to clarify that she was happy.

“You do know that I am happy for you both right?” she said, smiling a bigger smile than she had when she won the game. Afterall, it was just a game, this is real life. 

They both relaxed.

“But you can’t tell anyone,” Alastair said quickly. She must have looked confused because he added, “because we were going to tell them after going to the movie.”

“Well it’s good that you guys got that sorted out,” an amused voice said. And a few giggles broke out of at least 2 other girls.

She spun around quickly because she didn’t realize that there were others in the room. She saw Grace, Kamala, and Eugenia now openly laughing. She rolled her eyes, but she was yelling at herself internally for not knowing there were other people in the room.

“Ya ya, let’s go now.”

As they walked out the door they all knew that things were going to change, but for the better.

Comment if you would like a Part 2

(I don’t play video games, so this was out of my comfort zone)

[the-fiction-witch]

She’s Not Yours P2

REAL LIFE X THE LAST LEGION

COUPLE TBS X READER

RATING SMUT

I followed my advisor through the palace a little annoyed. I just wanna go back to bed! Or just to sit around in my room with y/n but he had to take me somewhere today y/n was following behind as she always does until at last we reached the door “Here is what I wanted to show you my king” He says opening a door I sighed and went inside and was shocked to discover…

A large room with beds, sheer fabric curtains, warm hot spring pools, and everywhere where women completely naked I was more than a little in shock, I’ve never seen a naked woman before other then the statues around the palace,

“What… what is this place?” I asked 

“This is your pleasure room my king. And these are your girls” He says

“It will be our pleasure to serve you my king” they cooed to me playfully waving 

“... what do you expect me to do with them?”

“Whatever you want, they are your girls. Hand picked slave girls who live only to serve and pleasure you my king” he explained “Go, they’ve been waiting for you”

I was confused but went in more one girl with long blonde hair came close holding my hand and tugging me along with her to a sofa to sit between two very pretty girls “what is it you ask of us my king” she smiled kneeling down and resting her head on my knee 

“Uuuuhhhh” I stuttered

“Awww I think he’s shy,” The brunette beside me giggled resting her hand on my shirt playfully “It’s alright my king, we’ll do anything you ask. Anything at all” she cooed her hand moving towards my pants I got up moving away in shock 

“Something the matter my king?” My advisor asked and I saw y/n beside him, she looked so heartbroken

“I don’t… I don’t want this”

“I’m sorry my king”

“This I - I don’t want it.”

“We can find you some other girls if you don’t like them my King”

“No! I don’t want any other girls, I don’t want some room full of girls” I said “I’m going back to my room,” I sighed leaving the room having y/n following behind me 

“They were very beautiful my king”

“They where, but what do I need them for”

“Everyone has needs my king, it is best for a man in you position to have a clear mind, to use those given to him to fulfill said needs” she explained 

“What would I do that for” I laughed giving her lips a little kiss “When I’ve got you” 

“I uhh I’m a slave girl” she says as we walked

“So are they, You’re my maiden, there some palace whores,” I shrug as we got back to my room “Much rather spend my time with you”

“Thats very sweet my king but - that is not my purpose”

“I never said it was, I have no needs to fulfill darling, not that you don’t already take care of for me” I smiled wrapping my arms around her and giving her another kiss.

I sat in a meeting with my advisors and the councilmen. Not sure why I was here I hadn't said a word since I sat down in the chair. I was barely even listening to them anymore looking out the large arched windows to the balcony looking out at the city and the sun shining across the way 

"Bring us some more wine girl!" One yelled to y/n who had stood in the corner to avoid being looked at she looked to me so I nodded she went over to the table as they returned to their conversation, I watched her walk her sweet bare feet across the marble floor her white dress swishing as she moved, her chain around her neck, as she went to the table passing the windows I could see the light affect her dress leaving a shadow of the body bellow it. I smirked watching her walk noticing her breasts and her arse as she walked lightly biting my lip, thinking of what she would look like if I did remove that stuffy white dress 

"My king?" The adviser spoke up

"Humm? Sorry what was it?' I asked as I hadn't been listening 

"Of course, the issue."

"Yes. Call him in. I need a word with him" I sighed as y/n went around filling the wine glasses around the table Till she got to mine but I put my hand over it so she nodded and walked back to the table "he's my uncle. In sure I can reason with him"

"Yes my king" my advisor nodded 

"But. I'd rather you not be there"

"If that's what you wish my king"

"It is. You're my advisor, you don't know my mind so don't speak for me like you do" I told him getting up "come on" I told y/n she nodded and followed me out into the palace. 

I turned over trying desperately to cling to the sweetness of sleep I heard the door open and close and I smirked to myself holding my covers 

"It's time to wake up Thomas" she cooed 

"Uummmm five more minutes darling" I groaned 

"You have that meeting today"

"I know I do, can I skip it?"

"Your advisors will get mad at you" 

"When aren't they mad at me" I sighed sitting up and running my eyes "good morning" I smirked widely seeing her stood at the foot of my bed in her usual dress 

"Good morning my king" she smiled "breakfast, or your bath" 

"Ummm neither. The king wants five more minutes and this is not negotiable" I said laying back down 

"Yes Thomas" she giggled 

"Ummmmmmm come here" I told her opening my arm she came closer standing beside my bed "closer" I told her so she leant in closer "where's my kiss?" I whined  she smiled and gave my lips a gentle kiss as she does every day "come on, lay down with me'

"Thomas I can't"

"Do you deny your king?"

"Never"

"Then come here" I told her opening the covers and patting the bed beside me she smiled blushing hard but she climbed in beside me she looked so beautiful laid in bed beside me I smiled widely looking as her hair laid against my pillow, the sheets around her soft dress, her face inches from me “This, Is how I’d like to wake up from now on”

“I’m sorry?” 

“This is the view I want to wake up to everyday” I told her stroking her sweet cheek 

“Is that is what you ask my king” she nods 

“What’s wrong?” I asked her noticing how off she seemed

“Work to do is all my king” she says going to leave the bed I sat up and held her arm so she wouldn’t leave 

“Y/n, Please. What’s wrong?” 

“I uhh I will call one of the women if you’d like one this morning” she says avoiding my eyes 

“Y/n what are you talking about, why would I want anyone else up here but you. Something is wrong isn’t it? Please tell me I can’t bare to see you upset”

“I’m just your slave”

“My slave. Is that all you think you are to me?”

“I’m your slave girl”

“Y/n. You’re much more than just a slave girl to me. I wouldn’t have kissed some little slave girl, If I didn’t love her” 

“What-”

“I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t. There are alot of things I wish I could change. To give you a better life, and… so you can be with me. Just give me time my darling,”

“You really mean it?”

“Of course I do”

“Ohh thomas!” she smiled jumping and hugging me tightly I smiled holding her as tight as I could “I love you too”

“Umm my beautiful girl, I love you so much. From now on so long as were alone. You have no rules you can do and say whatever you want,” 

“Yes my-”

“And you don’t need to call me that, I’ve told you if were alone just thomas” I smiled “and maybe soon I can call you my queen”

“You mean it!”

“I swear, On all that is good and alive in this world”

I stood bored out if my mind! 

"Why do I have to do this?' I asked 

"Tis tradition my king, all royals have there statues created and put into the hall." My advisor says 

"I still don't get why I have to stand here for so long?"

"So the sculpture can capture you perfectly my king"

"Can't he capture me perfectly sitting down?"

"If you are tried we may break my king"

"Thank you" I nodded to the sculpter who spoke I got down and sat down and y/n smiled coming over doing some something to drink I blew her a little secret kiss making her blush 

"If I may-" she began

"Who permitted you to speak girl!' my advisor snapped going to hit her

"No! Let her speak" I said stopping his hand before he could touch her 

"Thank you my king, if I may say so. I'm sure you're statue will look very handsome my king"

"Humm aren't you sweet" I smiled giving her hand a kiss, once I finished my drink and ate something I returned being stood there.

I groaned a little as I heard the door open and close 

"Good morning my king" she gleems

"Ummm… good morning my darling" I cooed sitting up in bed against my head board having a strech "what time is it?' I asked her with a yawn

"It's almost ten Thomas, your advisor wishes to see you at twelve" she smiled opening one of the curtains "yes?" She asks as she saw me looking

"Where's my good morning kiss?" I whined she smiled and came over giving my lips a gentle kiss, I kissed her back holding her sweet hand until she pulled back

"Ohh, do excuse me my king" she giggled going to go

"What is it?" I asked her and she simply glanced to my covers "oh, that. Don't worry it goes down after my bath," I shrug 

"I could… help with that if you'd like Thomas"

"Help? What do you mean?" 

"Have you never?'

"Never what?"

"Spent an evening downstairs?" She asks 

"Oh. No, never, why do you ask?"

"Have you never… assisted yourself my king?"

"Y/n, you've been looking after me since I was like ten I think you'd know if I have or not" I laughed

"May I assist you?"

"I suppose so? Never really worried about it," I shrugged she smiled and climbed into the bed with me she gave my lips a little kiss before she moved under the covers, "what exactly are you gonna... uughhh!!" I groaned in shock feeling her sweet lips kissing my shaft "uughhh! Darling" I groaned feeling her heavenly kisses all over me making my stomach bubble and my mnd flood with dark lustfully thoughts she continued the kissed getting longer and longer sometimes running her tongue across my shaft "uuuuhh uuuuuuughhh! Darling!" I maoned my head against the headboard thrown back in pleasure lost in my own little world where all that mattered was her mouth, and the amazing things she was doing with it, my hips moving forward on there own feeling so wound up and desperate as she licked my head "UUUUUUUUUUHHHHH!! Y/n! Darling!" I screamed gripping my sheets tighly almost ripping them as she licked and kissed me "uuuhhh! Uughhh! Uuuuhhhhh! Darling…. More" I gasped I didn't know exactly what I wanted but my whole body was screaming for more! More! MORE! she moved forward and let my whole length slip inside her mouth it felt so warm and wet, she licked me still but my mind completely exploded as I felt her suck "UUUUUUUUUUHHHHH!! UUUUUUUUGGHHH! DARLING!" I screamed feeling this huge wave of pleasure over my whole body, paralyzing me for a moment, leaving me gasping, exhausted, and a feeling of satisfaction I haven't ever felt before.

She moved to sit up fixing her hair a little and wiping her mouth "did I please my king?"

"You are amazing, and beautiful, and ummmmm I love you!" I smiled hugging her as tight as I could 

"I love you too" she giggled 

"Can we do that.. every morning?" I asked her 

"If you'd like to"

"I would like to. Very very much" 

"Then I shall do it every morning my king" she smiled "I'll go run your bath"

"No, stay a little while longer my darling." I smiled hugging her tighter so she couldn't leave 

"Yes Thomas" she giggled 

[armageddonouttahere]

Consolation

Title: Consolation

Summary: Takes place after “Putting Others First”, in which Roman sinks into his room and doesn’t leave for a while. Logan is the only one not preoccupied enough to come and lure him out, but in this he has to face emotions he’s been putting on the backburner for a long time.

Pairings: Romantic Logince, background platonic Moxiety

Warnings: Crying, self-doubt, insecurity, negative thinking

Rating: General Audiences

Genres: Fluff, Hurt/comfort (with a happy ending)

Word count: 2,500

A/N:  Here we are, at last! I had cranked out the last couple paragraphs of this fic just an hour ago, and I’m very excited. This had gone from a little Logince comfort drabble to a fic of 2,500 words (exactly, though I didn’t do that on purpose). I hope anyone who sees this enjoys it, and everyone who’s been waiting for it likes it even more, after all this suspense. Taglist will be at the end, under the cut.

________________________________________________________________

Logan was at a loss. The aftermath of Janus’ name reveal left all the sides shaken and fragile. Especially Roman. Logan wanted to help, he wanted to be able to tell Roman with certainty that he will be okay, that everything will be alright. Logan needed to be able to look Roman in the eyes and know that the words that came out of his mouth are truths.

But he can’t. So, Logan focused on the problems he could solve. He endeavoured to keep Thomas in working order, though on the inside he may be struggling. Virgil seemed to have taken a backseat, focused on watching over Patton. The most he’d seen of the anxious side was weekly updates and reports on Patton’s condition, how he was feeling, which Logan appreciated greatly. He needed all the positive data he could get.

As the logical side, Logan was somewhat attuned with the other sides’ reasoning and thought process. He needed this information to be accurate in order to know how Thomas works, how he functions. He knew how the other sides try to solve problems, how they understand things. When something or someone throws a wrench in the system it’s one of the few things that affected Logan physically.

In the aftermath after Roman sank out Logan had migraines for weeks. Roman’s flawed logic- his flawed perception of himself- is the one thing that has caused Logan the most physical pain. Roman’s view of himself shifted so drastically to the negative end that Logan felt… sorry? For him? 

He felt… he- he felt. Roman made him feel. What did he feel, exactly? Empathy? It was true that Roman’s emotional pain gave Logan physical pain, but the shared anguish went further than that. Logan knew what it’s like to feel wrong, to feel unheard. He related to Roman. He knew what he’s going through. 

Their opinions may differ, but Roman still needed consolation. Logan won’t further his belief that Janus is the villain, but Roman doesn’t need a scolding or a lecture, skewed though his viewpoint of Janus may be. He needed someone to listen to him, someone to comfort him.

Logan was aware that he’s no optimal candidate for the matter, not the first choice for consolation (nor the second). He does not possess the endless cuddles and comfort food of Patton, nor does he have the quiet understanding and listening ears of Virgil. His only way of reassuring the prince is through data, probabilities, and chances. Inadequate. Unsatisfactory. Definitely not enough.

Logan made a plan. A plan to make Roman feel better. A plan to get Roman to open his door, something he hadn’t done in two weeks. He gathered things he believed he would need in order to cheer Roman up: the Sherlock screenplay Roman had gifted him at Christmastime, Logan’s book of Shakespeare’s plays (Hamlet being pre-marked with a red sticky-note, in case Roman is feeling increasingly dramatic and macabre), his journal for note-taking, vocab cards, and his laptop- which has a playlist compilation full of ‘cute’ animal videos at the ready. All of this was needed for Logan to get up the courage to knock on Roman’s door. He felt as if he’s putting on an armour of sorts. Preparing himself for battle. 

It’s quite funny- the logical side needs bravery and courage to step outside his area of expertise and comfort the prince of the group.

May 17th, 2020. 1830 hours. Attempt #1: Prologue.

Roman has not left his corner of the mindscape for 16 days, 6 hours, and 28 minutes. Virgil has just given an update on Patton’s condition, which is thus: Patton’s “room” has slightly lessened in its intensity of upsetting emotions. The picture frames’ rate of showing unfavourable memories has decreased. Patton has not cried yet today. The Dark Sides, Remus and Janus, seem to be keeping on the “down-low”. Thomas has not had any intrusive dreams in many days. Virgil has been too preoccupied in keeping tabs on Patton to give him anxiety over much.  Thomas’ motivation has gone down. His restlessness has gone up. Roman’s unconscious contributions to Thomas’ everyday life have gone down significantly. Thomas has stopped daydreaming. He has stopped thinking about the future, what he has to do tomorrow. He is becoming forgetful and apathetic.  As the logical side, there is only so much I can do to keep Thomas in working order without help from the others, that much I can admit. I have put off trying to help Roman in case things only become worse, but the stakes are too high at this point. Action must be taken. I will record the results of this 1st attempt later.

Logan steeled himself, books tucked under his arm. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. 

Around nine at night, he wrote down the results. Roman had been unresponsive to polite requests for entry, knocking, attempts to start a conversation, small-talk, even a referencing desire to build a snowman. He had not responded to propositions of reading from plays or poetry, or any of his favourite literature. In summary, it was almost like speaking to a “brick-wall” (almost, because the door to Roman’s room was made of mahogany).

“Really? Things must be bad,” was Virgil’s response as Logan recounted the events to him later that evening. It was late, almost time for Logan to get some shut-eye after organizing Thomas’ duties for tomorrow. Logan had entered the kitchen hoping that Thomas would get a good night’s sleep so he could have the highest level of productivity the next day, but judging by the Monster Energy drink resting in Virgil’s hands he supposed that was not the case.

“It is certainly concerning. I tried… if not everything, at least a substantial amount of options.”

“Yeah, and if Roman doesn’t answer to a Disney reference… I’m worried about him. Do you want... me to try?” he said, fidgeting. Logan realized he looked uncomfortable with the idea. Virgil must felt a little guilty for not showing up at all during the argument.

“No, I believe that more attempts should be made. To wear him down, in a way. I’m planning to try again tomorrow.”

“Same Bat Time, same Bat Place?”

“An interesting way of putting it, but that’s the idea.” Logan rubbed his eyes and began making a list of all his tasks once he returned to his room.

“Alright. I’m gonna go see Thomas.” Virgil said, getting ready to sink out.

“I assumed you were. And Virgil?”

He popped back up. “Yeah?”

“Please at least try to motivate him a bit, if through fear? I don’t want to deal with a gloomy, unproductive Thomas tomorrow.”

“You got it. I won’t screw him up too much. ‘Night, Lo.”

“Good-night, Virgil.” He was alone.

“Roman?” Logan knocked once more. “Roman, would you be open to company? I wish to speak with you.”

Nothing. He sighed, pushing his journal farther into his pants pocket. He decided to come with substantially less things this time around. To come as he is.

“I’m not entertaining visitors or guests at the present. Please come back another time, thank you,” came a weak and muffled response.

The sound of Roman’s voice gave Logan an ache in his heart which he didn’t want to name. He ignored it, for the moment.

“I just want to speak with you. You’ve been decidedly quiet these past few weeks. Your input, both in-person and in Thomas’ subconscious has dropped a considerable amount. As far as I am aware you have not made your presence known to me or any of the other sides in over two weeks.”

Silence was his response. Facts were getting Logan nowhere. Logan sighed, struggling with himself. Did he tell Roman what he thought in simple terms, what he was trying to say through his data? How could he bare himself to Roman’s listening ears, let himself be known?

“In all honesty, Roman, I’m- I’m…” He took a breath. “I’m worried about you.” He said this in a rush, letting it all out in one breath. Like a Band-aid, as Virgil had stated. The silence that still followed both frightened him and spurred him on.

“Roman, I- I haven’t spoken to you in weeks. I’m afraid of what will happen if you stay isolated for much longer. You’re a necessary part of Thomas’ life, for me to have things to maintain and keep in order. But more than that, more than duties of mine, I mis- I’m… finding your absence upsetting.”

Logan faintly realised his hands had begun to shake, and he clenched them.

“You… mean a lot to m- the Mindscape, to Patton, to Virgil… to everyone. No one means you harm. We need your input on discussions, and revel in your ideas and thoughts. We... miss you.”

Just gotta rip it off.

“I- I miss you, Roman.” Logan shut his eyes, forcing out the idea that he had become emotional enough to begin producing tears. Logic does not cry. “We bicker sometimes and both of us are wrong on occasion, but I would rather have arguments with you than nothing without.”

“Seeing your vibrance and excitement in brainstorming, your happiness in Disney movies and romances, watching your brilliance when creating plays and stories and… being you, I- I find myself… swept up- metaphorically, of course- in every emotion you give off when you’re around me. Seeing you productive and happy gives me more of a reason to work to the best of my ability.”

“It’s… it would be difficult for me to ever say these things in the hearing of the other sides, but… I miss the feelings you bring me when you are around. It is something greater than a job well done, Crofters, or puzzles and murder mysteries being solved.”

“The emotions I feel when you are around are something more than a simple pleasure in watching, in the aesthetical enjoyment of seeing things fall into place. When I’m with you, I feel… spurred into action.”

“Roman, I- I can’t… I can’t bear your absence any longer. I’m worried about you, but more than that, I’m worried that should you keep to yourself, I’ll never… I- I won’t…” Logan swept aside a few tears that had run down his face. His throat ached so much that he feared he wouldn’t be able to get any more words out. The words he spoke next came out in a hoarse whisper.

“Without you I’m afraid I’ll never feel anything again.”

A shuddered gasp tore itself from Logan’s throat as he took his first proper breath in a few minutes. Tears slicked their way down his face freely now. This was, Logan supposed, because such a long drought of emotion had rendered him virtually unable to control any that did overcome him.

“However,” Logan began once more after a few more minutes of silence, his voice quieter now. If anyone else had heard it, they might have said he sounded ashamed. “Should you wish to remain alone for… whatever period of time, I won’t stop you. Asking you to open your door for my sake is extremely selfish of me. I’m… I’m sorry, Roman.”

Logan took one more breath before turning around to leave. He had no idea what the effects of his speech would be, and that scared him. He was in an entirely new territory. This was an unprecedented event, with no similar experiences to compare it to. He had ‘boldly gone where no man had gone before’, so to say.

Logan was so wrapped in his own panic, for that is what it was, he almost missed the imperceptible click of Roman’s door opening as he walked away. Every muscle in Logan’s body tensed, and he prepared for angry words and scathing insults. Logan would face it, however. He turned around, and was met with a sight for some very sore eyes.

Roman held open his door an infinitesimal amount, peering through the crack. Through the small open space Logan could see the prince out of his usual outfit, the beautiful swath of his hair, and one very tearful eye. Logan opened his mouth without knowing what would come out, but the air was knocked out of him.

Roman flung the door open wide and his socked feet ate up the steps between them as he flung his arms around Logan, the force of his embrace almost tipping Logan over. An embarrassing ‘oof’ escaped him at the impact and his hands went up to grip the back of Roman’s jumper after only a second of hesitation.

Logan’s mind filled incredibly fast with all sorts of information: the scent of Roman’s hair, the warmth of his body, how Roman buried his head in Logan’s neck and the slight wetness that came from tears. The way Roman’s nose jutted into his neck, the almost imperceptible touch of Roman’s lips on his shirt collar. Logan’s body betrayed him in an audible catch of his breath as Roman clung to him harder.

“Roman, I-” Logan began in a faint whisper, but Roman only shushed him and tightened his grip, rocking them from side to side ever so slightly.

They stayed like that for Galileo knows how long when the prince peeled himself from Logan. Roman looked upon Logan with eyes so bright from unshed tears Logan would have believed there were stars in them.

“You never said anything. Not a word.”

Their conversation was as hushed as could be, the Mindscape and the world beyond it ceasing to exist and zooming in on the two of them, in this moment.

“I’m not good with words. When it comes to talking about feelings, I mean. You know this.”

“Don’t lie, Specs. That was one of the most eloquent and beautiful things I’ve ever heard.”

Logan scrambled to find a breath within him as Roman smiled up at him. For one of the few times in his life, he found himself with nothing to say.

“It was moving, and heartfelt-” Roman continued, taking Logan’s hand and stepping back, towards his room. He paused in his motions and looked at Logan once more.

“-and it was incredibly romantic.” He said softly.

“I’m- I’m glad.” came Logan’s strangled reply. Roman smiled at him again and led him into his room. There they would sit and talk for hours, and Logan would hold Roman to his chest. They would confess to things bothering them and their hopes, dreams, and fears for the future. It would grow late, and Logan would give in and begin to card his hands through Roman’s hair as the prince drifted off to sleep.

There, in the black-blue of the sky of Roman’s window, scattered with stars and the slanting rays of the moon, Logan would look down upon the prince’s sleeping head and realize, though he had first doubted his abilities, he had been enough. Enough for Roman and for himself. He had been enough.

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Taglist:

@count-woe-laf @psychedelicships

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Shelbys at Somme Chapter 16

Thomas X Reader

Word Count: 1715

Summary: Some realizations are had and Inspector Campbell is a creep.

by @adventuresintooblivion

Thomas couldn’t bloody take it anymore. With Grace being escorted home, and Y/N getting ready for bed, he felt like his skin was on fire. A part of him, a much larger part than he’d like to admit, was selfish. He wanted nothing more than to bury his fingers in her hair. Feel the touch of flesh against his own. He wanted nothing more than to rid himself of the ghosts of Somme, by losing himself in the tangle of limbs and sheets. The problem was he couldn’t figure out which ‘her’ was actually driving him up the wall.

Grace had crawled up under his skin during her days at the Garrison. He wasn’t sure why it had happened, something between her brash curiosity or open eyed innocence. Or maybe it was the sheer fact that she just wasn’t afraid of him. That fear he’d spent years cultivating on the streets meant nothing to this beautiful, foreign girl who asked him all the right questions.

He attempted to still his shaking hands as he threw cold water into his face. His fingertips pressed into his eyes, willing the tiredness away. A soft hum drifted through the threadbare door. Y/N. Thomas’ ears heated, not even the freezing water was able to stop it. 

One of her songs, it intertwined with his soul, working out the sharp bits. His muscles began to slowly follow suit. The bathroom walls melted around him. His feet no longer stood on tile but the mud of a far off battlefield. He was hungry and cold and in that moment, there was nowhere else he’d rather be. 

“You’ve got that far off look again, Tommy.” Suddenly he was once again staring at his reflection. Y/N’s hand is on the bare skin of his shoulder. He leaned into it; he couldn’t help it. It felt like an eternity before she stepped closer. 

Thomas’ voice was thick as he spoke, “I...didn’t get to ask. Grace was so pale, and you?”

“I know how to stay warm.” Y/N’s arms closed around herself. “It also helps that I’m not skin and bones. You, um...seemed pretty shaken up by the whole thing.”

Thomas didn’t register the words at first, “Of course I was.” He turned to face Y/N for the first time since he’d stepped into the room. But now he faced the unspoken question they both craved the answer to. Which one of us? 

That selfish part of him, the greedy part, wanted them both. But even he knew that, in the end, even he couldn’t stand the idea of sharing. So how on earth could he ask them to do the same? 

“I am far from a good man, Y/N. Hell, the Devil probably has a special place already set up for me. But when I ask ‘Are you alright?’ it’s… not a question I ask often. And it’s not a question I ask a lot of people. Don’t ever question that, deep down under all this mess that the war left behind, I care about you.”

He wasn’t sure when he’d done it, but his hand had found her cheek. His calloused skin brushed over too soft skin. Thomas marveled at the feeling of it but it wasn’t until she turned into his touch, kissing his palm, that he felt something in him shatter. He silently wished he’d read more growing up, then maybe he’d have the words for what the fuck was happening to him.

She kissed his palm again, then whispered, “You called Grace ‘love’ today.” Her voice thin and broken against his skin.

Thomas’ tongue turned to lead as he watched the glisten of tears in her eyes. She was right. He had. And he probably would’ve done it again if he could start the day over. The air weighed down with sorrow as the realization settled into Y/N’s heart. 

“So that’s that I guess.” she pulled away quickly, scrubbing the tears away before they could fall. She disappeared back into her room, leaving Thomas alone in the bathroom.

“I...guess it is.”

〜

Grace had hurried home after as soon as she could get her legs beneath her. Her skin itched under the sense that the world was watching her. Every window, every wall, even the stones themselves grew eyes just to stare her down as she passed. 

She silently cursed as stumbled over cobblestones, her heel almost catching in a crack. She’d killed a man only minutes before Y/N had returned to the Garrison. That IRA officer. She had pulled the trigger, the ringing still in her ears as she stared at the muddy footprints Y/N dragged in with her. 

It was over all too quickly. She remembered the anger. It had boiled in the very marrow of her bones until it had become this unrelenting energy that carried her feet outside. She didn’t remember pulling the trigger, but she’d felt the recoil. And just like that, a life that had taken decades to cultivate, gone. Just gone.

The recoil had startled her at the time and almost made her drop the weapon. But she needed a place to hide it. If Thomas ever found out about what she’d done, he’d kill her. Her fingers clenched on the strap of her purse. She began mentally running through all the times she’d been separated from her bag. Harry definitely hadn’t found it. He would’ve harassed Grace for being a pretty girl that’d hurt herself. Scared of her own shadow and all that nonsense. Y/N had been trapped in the room with her so there was no opportunity for her to rifle through her things. Then Grace went cold.

Y/N had been alone with her things for who knows how long, before Thomas had woken her. Of their own accord, her fingers pried open the latch to search for any sign it’d been tampered with. Unfortunately, she was too hasty and the mere act of opening it had almost spilled the contents on the street.

“Fuck!” She growled.

She was so absorbed in her search that she hadn’t quite realized she’d made it home. Grace hesitated for a moment. If Y/N had found the gun she had most definitely told Thomas. He couldn’t have made it here first. Hell, he would’ve had to send runners to get anyone ahead of her. But what if he was waiting inside? 

Grace shakily put her key in that lock. All she could think about were the stories she’d heard. Of the cold dead eyes staring her down her first night working at the Garrison. Those eyes had softened over time and his touch had become a casual thing between his scheming. But all that would disappear in a moment if he even suspected she’d endangered his gang. And if he found out she worked for Campbell?

Her fingers went numb. It took several attempts for her to open the lock before finally, she shuffled inside. The door gave a loud groan that announced her arrival. If anyone was upstairs, they’d have heard her enter. She paused a moment to gather her courage, then stormed up the steps.

Despite the late afternoon sun, her drawn curtains shrouded the place in darkness. It all felt too still, a hushed air settling over the furniture as she let her eyes scan every dark silhouette. There. On the couch sat the figure of a man. Grace’s hand plunged into her purse, fingers closing around the metal handle. Her other hand desperately fumbled for the light.

Blinded momentarily, it took a little too long for her to realize that Inspector Campbell was the one sitting before her. She let out a long huff of air. Suddenly, she grit her teeth. She’d never given him a key.

“Why, hello there. Didn’t expect you to be quite so jumpy in the middle of the day Ms. Burgess. Is everything alright?” Inspector Campbell asked. He stood and gazed about the place, in that imperialistic way that made it seem like he owned it. 

Grace schooled her features a moment, “It’s not everyday a woman comes home to find a shadowy figure waiting for her. I believe I’m allowed to be startled, in this case.”

He gave her a solemn nod, “I don’t typically make a habit of such things but I was...concerned. You’re awfully close to this whole situation, and Mr. Churchill is getting impatient. I’m not sure if... I’ll be around much longer to offer you protection.”

“You’d leave me here?” She felt a cold shiver run down her spine as she pressed her back against the door frame.

“Oh no, never.” His brow furrowed and he closed the distance between them. He went to wrap his arms around her but stopped himself. Still, he leaned in far too close for Grace’s liking. A metallic tang hung on his breath as it washed over her.

“I would never leave you here to fend for yourself, amongst these… these dogs!” He tipped forward. To Grace, it seemed like he was having trouble with his balance.

She took a breath to steady herself, “I appreciate it. I’m close, I promise.” All she could taste was the staleness of used air as she remained trapped between Inspector Campbell and the wall.

He blinked slowly, then finally took a step back, “Yes. Well, meet me in a few days' time. A museum should do. You like museums, right?”

Grace didn’t get a chance to answer before he began gathering his things, “What time?”

“Wednesday. After your shift.” He quickly strode to the door, mumbling a quick goodbye before Grace was left blessedly alone.

 She swayed numbly over to the couch. Her weight made the derelict thing groan. After a few long moments a whimper escaped her. Then her hand shot out, hitting the poor excuse of a pillow beside her. Then again. And again. Her clenched fists rained down, frustrated cries accentuating each strike. It wasn’t until drops of water darkened the fabric that she realized she was crying. Or until her voice echoed off the walls that she realized she was shouting. And in the moment, her soul raged against the knowledge that she was truly and utterly fucked.

[fangirlings-things]

Ordinary evening

• Fandom: Peaky Blinders

• Word count: 1.1K

• Pairing: Arthur Shelby x reader

• Summary: on an ordinary evening, you go see Arthur on the betting shop

• A/N: I wrote his for @maggiescarborough her blog is turning one year old tomorrow so congratssss love 💖 I hope there are many more to come. I wrote this small piece for the celebration, hope I done that prompt good and hope you enjoy!!

gif is not mine

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

"Tommy" you greeted the man when you entered the betting shop, a smile on your lips. You would do that almost all the times you showed up there. Yet, the surprise on that particular day was that he smiled back. 

"(Y/N)" he replied, leaning against one of the walls of the place. He was having a smoke, his eyes had been fixed on the floor in a way that made it clear that he had some things going on in his mind. He was Thomas Shelby, after all. He always had something in his mind. But on that day, whatever it was, wasn't enough to prevent him from giving you a small smile and it made you happy. "How was your day at work?" 

"It was fine, not many news to type so I just drank coffee through the entirety of the day" you shrugged, thinking about the work day on the local newspaper. Quite often, you would have to write news about him and his family. The people you knew and had grew quite fond of. Having to type lies about them, orders of the police... well, it was not the best job in the world. But it paid your bills and the Shelby's understood that, so that was really mattered. 

"Need something stronger? The Garrison is opening tonight" Tommy suggested, taking the smoke to his lips afterwards. 

"When is The Garrison not opening?" you said and he laughed. He actually laughed a bit. It made you frown in surprise once again. Whatever had happened to have him happy for the first time in a long while, you were glad for it. "I'll be there, Tommy. Some drinks would do me good, I suppose" 

"We're having as many as you want, love" 

Turning your head to the direction from where the voice had come, you saw Arthur standing at the other entrance of the room, wearing his usual grey pants and only a white shirt to cover his chest. He had loosened the suit today and you liked it. His hair although well cut was a bit messy, a strand of it hang on his forehead in a way you always found beautiful. His eyes were as full of passion as always. His hands were on his pockets, hiding the cold gold rings he used in his long fingers. 

"Thought you would not meet me here after all, and I would have to leave with Tommy" you smiled at the eldest brother as you said so, a teasing tone in your voice that you knew he liked it. 

"It would be my pleasure, (Y/N)" Tommy spoke again, looking from his brother to you. The ghost of his smile was still there. Not quite present, but if you looked closer, you would be able to see the remains of it on the corners of his lips. 

"When have I ever not met you when we agreed to see each other?" Arthur got closer as he spoke, stopping the walking only when he found himself a few inches away from you. From this close distance, you could see that he had a cut on his left cheek. It was quite red, some stained blood in it. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting, I was just finishing some stuff on the books with Polly" 

"Don't mind it. Did you get into a fight today?" you raised your hand and softly touched the cut on his skin with your fingertips. Worry suddenly filled your whole being. 

"I got it in the ring, love. Nothing serious, just blew off some steam" Arthur was quick to say, grabbing your hand with one of his and taking it towards his lips. He pressed his lips against your palm in a soft, delicate kiss. "There is nothing to be worried about" 

You looked deep into his eyes, inspected his face, trying to see if that was the truth. It was not that you did not trust him, of course you did. But you knew the problems he had had in the past with fighting and drinking. You worried he would be back in that life. 

"He's right, (Y/N)" Tommy said, making you turn to him since he got your attention. Looking at his face, you saw that Tommy understood your concern. Even shared it. So, the fcat that he reassured you was quite welcoming. "Just the ring, for sport" 

"Good" you turned back to Arthur, and saw that he was smiling. He was not angry for Tommy having to reassure what he said. Instead, he seemed proud of himself, probably. It was so sweet that it warmed your heart.

"Shall we go, then? Some fine whisky is waiting for us in The Garrison, love" Arthur seemed excited.

"Yes, sure" you smiled as he held your hand in his, tightly in a way that made you feel good. Safe. Even if everything about his life was not safe at all. 

Arthur turned back to Tommy. "Wanna come with us, Tom?" 

"No, Arthur, you and (Y/N) go on" Tommy looked at you both together for a moment and to your joined hands. He had told you before, that you were good to Arthur. You had done him really good and was one of the reasons, maybe the greatest, that kept him stable. "I have something to do first, but I'll show up later. Then, we can share a fine drink" 

"Don't take too long or we won't wait for you, Tommy" you said to him and Arthur laughed as you both walked out of the betting shop together and into the streets of Small Heath. It was a hot day, and you were happy to have chosen that sleeveless dress for the evening. 

"I missed you this week, love" Arthur passed his arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer to him. You could notice the affection on his tone and it got to you, like it always did. 

Honestly speaking, you did not know why you had come to love him so much. Everything from the beginning had been quite messy, sloppy and dangerous and yet, you were sure no one would ever make you feel as good as Arthur Shelby did. He did bring you so much happiness. Much of those in certain times, would make you sad. You were not blind to the fact that his family had many enemies, and you could loose him anytime. Everyday you lived in fear and yet, it was worth it. 

So bloody worth it. 

"I missed you too" you said and looked at him, turning your head to the side. He turned to you and smiling in that unique way of his, kissed your lips for a brief second. 

You continued the way to the Garrison through Small Heath in silence, just enjoying each other's presence.  

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

tag list: @sophieshelby ; @charmingvalkyrie

[imherongraystairstrash]

Sophideon Christmas fluff

A/N: I was going to post this for Christmas, but I (accidentally) finished writing it today :| Anyways, this takes place after “A Lightwood Christmas Carol” BTW Sophie’s brother and cousin are not canon!!

Also, I’m taking requests from this prompt list! I may not get to them until the middle of December bc school is evil and I have a bunch of other fics to finish, but I’d love to hear what you guys want me to write about!

Gideon stepped into the house and was instantly surrounded by warmth. There was a wonderful smell in the air and he could hear the soft exclamations from the other room. Thomas squirmed at the sound of the voice of his mother’s soothing voice. They had been in London for the past couple of days, and they had finally come home. Gideon took off the layers of coats Thomas had on and set him down. Though Thomas was clearly anxious to get to his mother, he waited by his father. Gideon hung his coat and held out his hand for Thomas to grab. 

They walked into the kitchen but Gideon couldn’t decipher what was occurring. Sophie seemed to be teaching the girls how to make… A house? Gideon was confused, but he couldn’t help but stare at Sophie as she laughed and smiled widely at what she was doing.  

Then, she looked up, her eyes bright. 

“Look who’s back!”

The girls looked up excitedly and came running. They hugged Gideon’s legs. He saw Thomas waddling over to Sophie as she held her hands out to him out of the corner of his eye. He lifted his daughters and embraced them tightly. There was laughter and happiness at being reunited once more. 

“Does anybody want to tell me what that is?” Gideon said, motioning to the structure.

“It’s a gingerbread house!” Eugenia said cheerfully.

Gideon must have looked even more confused because Sophie laughed.

“Why don’t you girls show Thomas the gingerbread house?” Sophie said, putting Thomas down. Barbara took his hand and Gideon and Sophie watched as they eagerly showed the house to Thomas.

Gideon put a hand on Sophie’s waist. “Is this a new tradition?” 

Sophie put her arms around Gideon. “More of an old one. Around Christmas time, my gram used to make gingerbread and my cousin and I would assemble and decorate a house.” 

“What about your brother?” Gideon asked.

“Lawrence? Aunt Josephine was too busy getting him to fix something in her house.”

“Like what?”

“Bookshelves, chairs, ha! Once she made him fix the roof. His arms were so sore, he could barely lift a glass of water.” 

“Meanwhile, you and your cousin built a bread house?”

“No, we made the greatest gingerbread house in the entire village! Everybody would come to visit, just so that they could see it.” Sophie chuckled. “We used to bicker so much about the house decoration, we had to pick a side of the house and decorate it accordingly.”

Gideon smiled. “That sounds like two other girls I know.”

“Goodness, I think I got a few grey hairs trying to teach them to work together,” Sophie said, pointing her chin at Barbara and Eugenia.

Gideon kissed her head, “Grey hairs or not, you are still beautiful.”

Sophie shook her head, smiling.

“I have a question,” Gideon said.

Sophie looked up at him.

“How is that a bread made out of ginger?” It was quite flat and sturdy looking; it didn’t resemble bread at all. 

“Oh, it’s not actual bread.”

Gideon furrowed his eyebrows, “Then why is it called—”

“I have no idea; it’s better not to ask any questions.”

Gideon laughed. “Now I’m intrigued, maybe we should ask Will and Tessa if they have a book on bread-ginger.”

“Gingerbread,” Sophie corrected with a smile. “What would it be called? A Study in Gingerbread?”

“Gingerbread: A Brief History.”

“Oh no. If we’re going to do this, we cannot settle for simplicity. We must read ‘Gingerbread: An Absolute History’.”

“Nothing left behind.”

“Precisely.”

Gideon ended the discussion with a soft kiss on her lips. She tasted sweet and warm. 

“Your lips are cold.” Sophie said, frowning and kissing them again. “Now I have to warm them up.” 

“How I missed having my lip warmer.” Gideon said with a smile.

They kissed again. Sophie put a hand in his hair and stroked softly. It felt so nice, Gideon didn’t even think as he leaned into it. 

“Are they warm yet?”

“Almost. Just one more.”

Sophie kissed him twice more (for good measure) and put a head on his head shoulder with a sigh.

“How did it go?”

“I didn’t find anything in Benedict’s journals.”

“Maybe we should be glad.”

Gideon shrugged. “I guess so. It means there’s most likely nothing wrong with Thomas.”

“Which is a blessing.”

“Yes,” Gideon smiled as he looked at the children decorating the gingerbread house. “It truly is.”

For a while, the only sound that could be heard was the mumbling of the children.

“They are utterly destroying that poor house.” said Gideon, astounded. 

“Yes, I had no idea how tacky our children were.”

“They get it from their mother.”

Sophie snorted. “I’m pretty sure they get from their father.”

“Is that so?” Gideon said leaning in.

“Very much so.” Sophie closed the gap between their lips. 

They pulled away and rested their foreheads together. Gideon looked at Sophie and saw that she had her eyes closed. He kissed her eyelids and she dazzled him by opening her beautiful hazel eyes. 

“I missed you,” he said.

Sophie buried her head in the crook of his neck. “I missed you too.”

They breathing mingled into the same; they both inhaled and exhaled together, unintentionally. Gideon hated having been away for Sophie. He had missed her sleeping beside him so much, he felt like he could no longer sleep alone. He missed kissing her goodnight and good morning. He found it hard to be happy without hearing her voice everyday. 

“Mama! Help!” Barbara called.

“Your father is coming,” Sophie called back.

“I am?”

“Yes.” Sophie said, pushing him towards the children. “Since you are all tacky, you’ll agree artistically! I, on the other hand, have good taste which will cause a clash and perhaps a brawl in which nobody will be able to speak to each other for years to come!”

“What?” asked Gideon.

Thomas giggled, probably at his parents’ silly tones of voices.

“It’s your turn, I’ve had to deal with them while you were in London with the best behaved of our children.” Sophie whispered, furiously. 

Gideon shot her a betrayed facial expression.

They loved Barbara and Eugenia more than life, but there’s no denying that they were little monsters. 

“Fine,” Gideon said, “but only because I love you.”

Gideon walked over to the girls. Barbara had frosting dripping down her hands. Eugenia was spinning in a circle, probably because of stress. Thomas was looking at them with a face that conveyed wariness mixed with extreme confusion. 

Gideon pulled a chair and sat down next to Barbara.

“Papa, papa, papa! Help! The roof is sliding off.”

“It’s alright. We just need to stick it back—” Gideon squinted his eyes. “Are you keeping this up with icing?!”

“Of course!”

“Well no wonder it’s falling! This is a horrible idea. There is no way this measly sugar paste can hold this up.”

“Mama got the walls to stay.”

Indeed she did. Gideon inspected the walls with amazement and then shook his head.

“That’s because your mother is secretly an evil sorceress that is using her magic to keep them together.”

“I am not! I built that house with my bare hands. You just have to wait for it to set.” Sophie said.

Gideon put the roof back on the house. He pressed down and icing splattered and dripped down the house. He looked at Sophie, who looked away, pretending not to see.

“Papa! Do you like my gingerbread man?” Eugenia said while he held the roof in place.

“Where is he?” Gideon said. 

“Right there.” Eugenia pointed at something that Gideon had thought was a yard. It was completely covered in white frosting.

“By the Angel, he’s the palest man I’ve ever seen! He should go outside more often.”

Eugenia and Barbara giggled. 

“Papa, he’s going to melt.”

“A man that melts in the sun? Eugenia, how could you not tell me this fine gentleman is a vampire? He must be utterly offended.” Gideon turned to the cookie, “I’m very sorry, good sir. Do you forgive me?”

The children looked at the cookie expectantly.

“Must be a quiet fellow.” Gideon said, shrugging. “This should be done,” Gideon lifted his hands.

The house stayed for a while, but just as they were about to rejoice, the roof came tumbling down.

“I’m afraid they are going to want a refund,” Sophie said.

“Papa, what happened? Didn’t mama tell you how to do it?”

“It’s your mother’s strange accent. I don’t even know what she is saying half of the time, I just nod along.”

“What accent?” Sophie said, outraged.

“Your funny accent, mama,” said Eugenia.

“I do not have a funny accent.” 

“I do not have a funny accent.” Barbara mimicked in exaggerated cockney. 

“Barbara!” 

Barbara giggled.

“How could you betray me this way?” Sophie said, pretending to be offended. She turned to Gideon. “See what you have done? Now my daughter is insulting me.”

Gideon kneeled in front of Sophie, “Forgive me, beautiful sorceress.”

“I will not,” Sophie said, unable to contain her smile. 

A timer ringed. 

“Oh, I must take the Gingerbread men out of the oven before they burn.” Sophie turned away toward the oven. 

Gideon got up and looked at the house, sighing. 

“Let’s see what we can do about that roof.”

…

Gideon lifted his hands. Thomas, who was sitting on his father’s lap, mimicked the same gesture.

“We did it!”

“But papa, what do we do with this extra piece?”

“Mama cannot know it came off, she will be heartbroken we destroyed her hard work.”

They all looked at Sophie warily and then back at the piece. Gideon picked it up, put a finger to his lips and put the extra piece of cookie in his mouth. The girls squealed which then turned to laughter as they saw Gideon’s face of disgust. 

“What is this made out of? It tastes horrible.”

“You ate it?!” Sophie said, turning around from the cooling rack

“Yes and it’s harder than cement and tastes horrid.”

“That’s because it’s not meant to be eaten.”

“You said it was a cookie!”

“Yes, but it needs to be sturdy so that it can last until Christmas.”

Gideon eyed the gingerbread house warily. “It doesn’t look like it will last another minute.”

Sophie came over and leaned over his shoulder. She smelled like cinnamon and honey and Gideon fought the urge to close his eyes and breathe it in.

Sophie piped a little bit more frosting and held the roof up a little bit higher. They all watched attentively as she filled in the top and wiped off the excess with her finger. 

“All done,” she said, plopping the frosting in her mouth.

The house now looked like it could stay up for centuries. 

“What did I tell you? Sorceress.” Gideon whispered at the children.

“Not sorcery; just practice.”

Sophie reached over and lifted Thomas from Gideon’s lap and kissed the top of his head. “Did you have a good time with Cousin Jamie?” she asked.

Thomas nodded. 

“Oh, darling. Your hands are freezing.” Sophie mumbled. 

Gideon looked up, worried, exchanging a look with his wife. Sophie grabbed a pair of socks (which she had, Gideon observed, begun keeping on hand during the cold, for Thomas) and put them on Thomas’ fists, since mittens don’t fit his impossibly tiny hands. 

“There we go,” Sophie said. “All warmed up.” 

She hugged Thomas tightly and looked over at the table.

“That gingerbread house looks very pretty.” She said, smiling.

Eugenia and Barbara grinned widely.

“Can we put it on the fireplace?”

“Of course!”

Their daughters cheered and went to put it up. Gideon stood up and Sophie put Thomas down on the floor. 

“Go with your sisters, darling. It’ll be fun,” Sophie told him.

Thomas hesitated but after Sophie put a hand on his back, he started walking forward. He looked behind his back at his parents, who both nodded encouragingly at him. He turned and joined his sisters.

Gideon hugged Sophie from behind and they both smiled with overjoy.

…

Sophie stood by the fireplace and ran her fingers over the empty spot on the fireplace. Dust came up. She rubbed her fingers together softly, as though she were caressing the dust. She looked up at a photograph of her children; Barbara, Eugenia and Thomas. It was a long time ago, back when Thomas was still small, when Eugenia was happy and when Barbara was still… 

Sophie closed her eyes tightly and turned away from the mantle. She looked around the living room. She had taught her daughters how to sew on that couch. Around Christmastime, she hugged Thomas—

“Oh, Thomas,” She choked on a sob. 

Where was he? Would she ever see him again? No, that’s not her most pending question. Would she ever see him again alive? Sophie put her back against the wall and slid down it. She hid her face in her hands because all she wanted to do was go back in time and hug her children when she still could. She wanted to go back to when her only problem was a stupid rumor.

If only she had known what was to come. She wouldn’t have shed a tear over those words.

Sophie looked around the parlor. It was the same as it was a couple of months ago, but it felt a million times emptier. She hugged her knees and rocked back and forth. She missed her children. She wanted to see them together, happy and alive. She couldn’t breathe beneath the weight of her despair.  

“Mama, why are you crying?”

Sophie looked away. 

“Mama, why are you sad?”

“Because I lost you.” She said, closing her eyes and feeling hot tears roll down her face.

“You didn’t lose me; I’ve always been here.” 

Sophie shook her head, tears coming down hard. There was something heavy in her throat that made it ache. 

“Sophie,”

Sophie turned towards her daughter. Except Barbara was not there.

Gideon was looking at her, though she’d never hear him come in.

“Sophie, we have to go.”

She sat up. “Why?”

“Thomas. They found him, he’s at the institute.”

Sophie looked up at the fireplace mantle where her daughter had placed the gingerbread house every year. 

“Sophie?”

She looked into Gideon’s green eyes. In them, she saw her past and she saw her future. Gideon was the first and only man she’d opened her heart entirely to. He taught her how to love again and the one she shared her best memories with. She saw a faint whisper of Barbara in those eyes, but most of all she saw the one who she bears the weight of her pain with. 

“Let’s get our son.” she said.

Gideon kissed her forehead.

Tagging: @celias @livvyheronstairs @tsccreatorsnet @livia-dovehallow @hitheresomeoneusingthus 

[multiharlot]

real life spencer / matthew gray gubler x reader

summary: in which matthew meets the woman who inspired the man that’s stolen the hearts of america.

masterlist

part two

third person pov

the girl walked timidly through the busy filming set, clutching her hands around the strap of her shoulder bag. she approaches the studio doors, rocking awkwardly on her white low top vans and running her hand through her hair. her yellow midi skirt swayed softly over her legs as the warm los angeles breeze floated through her white button up. the doors open suddenly and she jumps back, nearly tripping over herself. 

“you must be, y/n. i’m jeff davis, thank you for coming in today.” the man smiles, sticking his hand out to the girl. 

her mouth opens and closes before she smiles. 

“hi. sorry umm...germ thing.” she chuckled awkwardly. 

“oh. oh right i’m sorry. come in and meet the cast.” he says, wiping his hands on his pants and opening the door wider.

she stepped into the doors, tucking her hair behind her ears and waiting for jeff to lead the way. 

“we really appreciate you being here and consulting with us. we want to make this show as real as possible.” he explains as he leads her towards the writers room. 

“of course, i’m happy to help. you did decide to base a character off of me, it’s the least i can do.” she nods, the thought in her mind made her feel slightly awkward, but grateful nonetheless. 

“yes, the cast is so excited to meet you by the way. we all were. it’s not everyday you get to meet a real life genius.” he chuckles. 

“technically, passing the IQ test only determines that you have a certain IQ. a large portion of those with higher IQ’s aren’t all that smart. high IQ’s couldn’t determine your true intelligence, never mind a genius.” she shrugs, silently reveling in the fact that yet another person had called her a genius. 

she secretly hated the term genius. as complimenting as it was, the word had hung over her head her entire life. she herself never believe she was a genius, and the word alone made her feel as though she had to meet a certain quota. the idea of being a genius held her to a standard that she felt she couldn’t meet. 

“right...well i mean, you do have an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory. so...you’re the most genius non-genius i’ve ever met.” jeff shrugged, stopping in front of the white door. 

“yeah...” the girl trails off, stopping beside him. 

“well this is the writer’s room, and this is our cast. everyone, meet agent- sorry, dr. y/n y/l/n. doctor, i give you the criminal minds cast.” jeff smiles as he opens the door, leading the girl into the room. 

she rocked awkwardly on her sneakers, waving timidly. 

“oh you’re so cute!” kirsten squeals, wrapping her arms around the girl, making her jump back. 

“sorry. ah. i’m sorry. i just uhh...germ thing.” she chuckles, making kirsten blush. 

“oh. oh i’m so sorry. i’m just a hugger.”

“that’s okay. you know our tendency to engage in physical touch is often a product of our upbringing. those of us who’s parents weren’t as physically demonstrative tend to disengage from activities like hugging, or even something as simple as a pat on the back.” the girl rambles nervously, making everyone in the room pause. 

“although, some children tend to have the exact opposite effect, leading to a starvation for human physical interaction, which in turn actually turns them into huggers.” matthew smiles widely at the girl. 

she blushes, and a nervous chuckle escapes her lips.

“you must be dr. spencer reid, nice to meet you.” she smiles, nodding her head at the man. 

“my name is matthew. matthew gray gubler. and it’s nice to meet you too, doctor.” he smirks, looking the girl up at down. 

shemar raises his eyebrow at him, an impressed smirk growing onto his face. 

“right, well, y/n here has graciously taken the day off to help assist in our terminology and making this show as realistic as possible. so, let’s get started.” jeff smiles, closing the door behind him. 

the room buzzes with light chatter as everyone begins taking their seats. y/n stood awkwardly off to the side, unsure of where she would be going. matthew takes note of this, and smiles softly, standing from his chair and walking over to her. 

“you can come sit next to me.” he smiles. 

“o-okay.” she nods, clutching the strap of her bag tightly and following beside him. 

the cast all exchange knowing looks as they looked from each other to the pair off in their own little world. 

“so, tell me, is working in the fbi as hectic as we’re making it seem?” matthew asks, leaning his head on his hands. 

“yes and no. we’re more of a sub-unit within the national center for the analysis of violent crimes. there are a total of six different behavioral analysis units, each of us working for a different type of crime.” she explains as the writers scribbled across their notepads feverishly. 

“and which one are you on?” thomas asks, and she smiles as she looks at the man. 

“i work in analysis unit 4, which is crimes against adults and we also work hand in hand with the violent criminal apprehension program, also known as ViCap.”

“is it true you graduated high school at twelve? or did jeff just make that up?” kirsten asks, her eyes wide and curious. 

“thirteen. not twelve. and after high school, i attended Stanford, Cal Tech, and then Harvard where i was immediately recruited by the US government. i’m not supposed to tell you this, but it’s true what they say about those who take math 55.”

“how many PhD’s do you have?” aj asks as she leans onto the table.

“two. chemistry and clinical psychology. and i also have a master’s degree in neurobiology.”

“did they wave you through the academy the same way they did pretty boy, here?” shemar asks, ruffling the top of matthew’s head. 

“no they did not. i actually went through the training, same as everyone else. one thing that isn’t accurate about this show, however, is that our agents are actually required to take a certain amount of personal days per month, and there’s a mandatory 12 hours of counseling with our building psychologist that we have to complete every month.” 

“how many personal days?” matthew asks, a flirtatious smile slapped on his face causing the butterflies to go into a frenzy in y/n’s stomach. 

“u-um. i have a quota of three days per month. so i usually take a long weekend at the end of every month.” she smiles, nervously tucking her hair behind her ears. 

“do you carry a gun? oh! can we see your credentials?” aj gasps, almost excitedly. 

“i do. but only when i’m on the job. otherwise, i don’t like having them. and uhh..yeah sure.” y/n mumbles, rummaging through her purse and pulling out both her credentials and her identification card. 

y/n hands them to matthew and his fingers graze lightly over hers, causing a blush to form over her cheeks. he passes them along to the rest of the cast and he then looks down at the girl next to him. 

“can i draw you?”

“only if i can draw you.”

matthew chuckles, nodding his head. and the two mindlessly doodled each other as the meeting went on. y/n answered what seemed like an endless amount of questions and matthew simply stared her. her eyes, her nose, her lips. he found her absolutely beautiful, and he couldn’t manage to tear his eyes away from her for longer than 2 minutes at a time. as y/n finished her one line doodle of matthew, she scribbled a quick note at the bottom of the page, and tore it out of her notebook. matthew ripped the page from his, ready to hand it to the girl when jeff interrupted them. 

“alright guys, we’ll see you tomorrow. and thank you, dr. y/l/n, for coming in. i can’t explain how informative you’ve been.”

odd choice of words, she thought. but she nodded, saying you’re welcome nonetheless. 

everyone began to exit the room and matthew called out for the doctor, stopping her in her tracks. she looks up at him only realize just how tall he really was. 

“here.” he smiled, handing over the paper. 

to: the real life spencer reid from: gatthew may bugler

she giggled as she opened the page, seeing the truly abstract drawing of herself. 

“this is actually really good.” she smiled, staring down at the page. 

“thank you. it helped to have such a beautiful model.” he says, biting his lip nervously. 

a blush covered her cheeks and her ears and she giggled nervously. 

“well umm...here.” she says, handing over her page. 

when he folds open the paper, his mouth falls open at the beautiful one-line drawing she had done of him. then, his eyes fall to the bottom of the page, and his mouth runs dry.

“umm..give me a call if you need any...character reference.” she says as she rocks back and forth on her feet. 

“can i call you even if i don’t need any character reference?”

she smiles, nodding her head. 

“would uh...would you maybe want to go grab lunch with me?” he asks, scratching nervously at the back of his neck.

she opens her mouth to say something when her phone rings out. her eyebrows furrow as she pulls her phone out of her bag, her partners name across the top. 

“sorry, this’ll just take a second- i’m on my personal time, fields.” she sighs into the phone. 

“no no i know. so am i. and i also know you’re in los angeles. wanna go check out the bureau offices?”

“sorry, i have plans.” y/n shrugs, staring up at matthew. 

“oh do you? doing what?” fields questions. 

y/n bites her lip, reaching over and grabbing matthew’s hand. 

“someone’s taking me to lunch” she smiles, pulling matthew towards the studio exit and hanging up the phone.

“so, where are we going mr. bugler?” she smiles. 

“i thought you had a germ thing.” he says, raising an eyebrow at their intertwined hands.

“i’ll make an exception for you.” she shrugs, making him smile. 

“well, how does chinese sound?”

“perfect..as long as i don’t have to use those god awful chopsticks.”

“a PhD in engineering yet you can’t use chopsticks?”

“excuse you. dr. reid is the one with the PhD in engineering. i only have PhD’s in chemistry and psychology.”

“oh. yeah. only.”

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