#you have no idea how long this has been sitting in my to do folder

[cheekinpermission]

I heard Ruggie likes donuts...

[norrizzandpia]

You Don’t Even Know What She Looks Like? (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: Spencer’s girlfriend has always been mentioned. Never has the BAU team been shown a photo or given a small rundown of what she looks like. So, when Spencer announces that she’ll be visiting the office to bring him food on a late night, well, you can guess the chaos that ensues.

Warnings: none, very fluffy

Note: aww my first Spencer Reid fic! I hope you all like it <3

The BAU had only ever heard about Y/n. Never did Spencer show pictures of her or give descriptions on her appearance because he wanted to keep the majority of her to himself for as long as he could. Even though she had told him numerous times that showing them pictures and giving them more than the occasional chaotic story was completely fine by her, he never could bring himself to. That was until he started being away a lot more because of a continuous string of cases, making it harder for him to see her outside of the office. The first time she asked to bring him food when he was up late at the office doing paperwork, he declined, rambling about how he didn’t want to have to deal with all the screaming that would go on from the introduction of his girlfriend.

However, the second time she asked, he had had a hard case, one filled with innocent children and one that hurt him the most. As he sat in the chair of his desk, eyes staring at the wall as everyone around him scribbled down words onto paper, he knew he needed to see her. He would’ve left right then and there, but the stack of folders sitting to his left made him completely reject the efficiency of that idea. So, when her name popped up on his phone with a small plea to bring him food, knowing he hadn’t eaten as much as he should with the case, Spencer couldn’t say no.

”Guys,” He said, standing from his chair and turning so he could face the rest of the team.

Everyone’s eyes averted to him. Morgan leaning back in his chair, “What’s up, pretty boy?”

He twiddled his thumbs, “Don’t freak out over what I’m about to tell you, okay?”

At this, Emily and JJ perked up. Penelope, the woman passing by in the hall and overhearing his suspicious sentence, slid into the bullpen.

With everyone’s slow nodding, Spencer broke the news, “My girlfriend is coming in to bring me food.”

”WHAT?” Penelope shouted, completely disregarding his wish for them to be calm. She dropped the folder in her hands, not concerned that classified information lay beneath, and sprinted over to the tall man she knew as her friend.

She shook him, her hands on his shoulders, “SPENCER, ARE YOU MEANING TO TELL ME I’M ABOUT TO MEET YOUR GIRLFRIEND?!”

He giggled, “Yes,”

Morgan gave a glance to Rossi, who was standing against the railing and smirking, before standing from his own chair and making his way over to Penelope, prying her off Spencer, “Okay, babygirl, Spencer asked us to be calm about this.”

She turned to him, eyes widened, “Calm? No way will I be calm about this.”

”I’m with her on this one. Sorry.” Emily admitted, the woman standing next to JJ as the two joined the group.

Spencer rolled his eyes, “Seriously, guys. Don’t scare her away.”

Rossi cocked his head, “Scare her away? If you haven’t already after six months, I’m sure we won’t.”

Spencer frowned just as Penelope yelped, “Is that her?!”

Spencer turned his head to the door of the bullpen, seeing a blonde woman emerge from behind it. He shook his head with a laugh, “Penelope, no. That’s not her. You don’t even know what she looks like.”

Penelope stuck her tongue out at him just as JJ hollered, “That her?”

A random stranger passing by, Spencer shook his head once more.

Morgan joined in, “What about her?”

A man. Morgan pointed to a man. Spencer gave him a glance as Morgan giggled, never getting bored over a good teasing.

Emily tried to guess as well, “Hey! What about her?”

”No! Guys, I will tell you when she’s here.” Spencer said with a slight annoyance. His girlfriend had just texted him she would go to get his food. There was no way she was here yet.

The group got tired after a moment of pointing out random women and all fell back into their paperwork. After about ten minutes, Spencer stood from his desk.

Everyone in the BAU froze.

When he saw their stares, he laughed, “I’m just going to the bathroom. She’s not here yet, but if you stare at her like that when she comes, I swear to God she will run the other way.”

”Hey!” Emily exclaimed, throwing a crumpled up piece of paper at him as he pushed open the door and turned down the hallway.

There was silence for about three minutes seeing as Spencer wasn’t there, watching his mannerisms and determining if Y/n was close or not out the window with him gone.

A creek sounded throughout the floor as the door was pushed open. Y/n stood, with a white plastic bag in her hand, looking out at the people working at their desks. They completely missed the entrance. With no eyes on her, she moved to Spencer’s desk and placed the bag on top. Her eyes glazed over everyone before she cleared her throat, “Um, does anyone know where Spencer is?”

Morgan’s head snapped up as JJ and Emily stopped writing. Rossi’s door swung open and he stepped out forcefully, not graceful in the slightest. As if she was summoned, Penelope flew through the door of the BAU, almost tripping on her heel as she returned from her hibernation in her office.

With all eyes now on her, Y/n blushed slightly. Spencer had mentioned that everyone would be a bit overbearing, but she didn’t know even the smallest thing like their stares would be intimidating.

Penelope moved toward her first, looking at her as if she was an alien, “Are you Y/n?”

Y/n nodded and the entire group erupted into loud overlaps of coos and compliments. Spencer’s girlfriend stood in the midst of them all, being pulled into Penelope’s arms as the colorful woman hugged her tightly. JJ and Emily told her they loved the way she had styled her hair, asking how she had done it, and Morgan interrogated her on how Spencer had managed to “smooth talk” her. Rossi just nodded his head at her and extended his hand, murmuring his name and how nice it was to meet her.

Spencer was walking back from the bathroom, down the hall, when he heard the excited voices. He knew then and there what the situation was, and his feet began to pick up. He was practically running toward the BAU glass door and when he reached it, he yanked it open.

Everyone turned to him, his girlfriend’s face peeking out from behind them all and he immediately softened. The twinkle in her eye, the blush on her face, he could tell she appreciated finally being given the opportunity to meet his chosen family. Spencer wondered why he even waited to introduce her in the first place.

The man made long strides across the office, muscling through the small number of bodies before getting an arm’s length away from Y/n, pulling her into him by the waist.

He turned to everyone, smiling widely as his hand smoothed over her back lovingly, “This is Y/n, my girlfriend. Now, you can pick her out of a crowd.”

[starry-bi-sky]

Hello Starry! I just had a thought about your Danyal al Ghul AU, and didn't have anyone else to share it with, so here we go:

If in this universe Bruce is Jewish, and Danny knows this(probably from a google search), he may wear a Star of David necklace to have a piece of his father with him at all times, since he knows he will never get to meet him. Or maybe the necklace sits in a box under a floorboard, because he can't stand the constant reminder of the father he'll never get to have. Maybe he observes Sam and her family celebrate Jewish holidays, or he learns how to by himself, but uses the time to mourn, instead of celebrate.

Anyways, hope all is well, and thank you for sharing your writing!

AAHHHH??? YOUR BRAIN??? Thank you!! I love sharing my writing, it soothes my need for attention lol. lmao, even. (Also how did you know i was thinking of my danyal al ghul au today -- i have an unfinished draft that i was thinking of delving into after my work meeting) also aahh!!!!!!!! im so happy that you wanted to share your thoughts with me about it &lt;333

But dude BOTH of these ideas are soo?? GOOD and ANGSTY. I love angsty. Danny would for sure know if Bruce was Jewish, lil guy did an obsessive amount of research on his dad the moment he got his hands on a computer and figured out how they worked. Danny has like, a three inch thick folder almost on his father alone. Anything he could get his hands on, he's got it. That thickness is almost exclusively from his first like, six months in Amity Park. He keeps it in a box in his closet, along with his growing-folder on Damian and his achievements as Damian Wayne. He pages through it when he's feeling like mourning.

First off: him wearing a Star of David necklace to feel connected to Bruce. That is SO sad and I love it so much. He bought it with an allowance he'd been given when he first started living with the Fentons, he keeps it tucked under his shirt so nobody even knows he has it. Sam and Tucker don't until it slips out while he's hanging out with them and when they ask him about it, Danny very reluctantly tells them that his father is Jewish. When he's distracted, nervous, or sad, he fidgets with it. How this looks is that he looks like he's kinda rubbing his chest, like ungrasping and grasping something.

Second Off: him keeping it in a box under the floorboards. That is also so, so good. He's got it in the box along with a few other things that remind him of his father and Damian and his mother. He takes it out when he's feeling particularly lonely and homesick, it's a feeling that never really goes away even after five years of living in Amity Park. It's like a longing for something you'll never see again, but isn't that just how grief works? i can just imagine him sitting against the bed, late at night and back from patrol. He's still in his ghost form, his katana laid on the ground next to him, and his almost bird-like cape pooling down beside him as he cups the necklace in his hand like he's cradling an egg. Maybe he's bleeding from somewhere, and he's telling the necklace about patrol, murmured soft in Arabic.

When he finds out Sam is Jewish he probably, after much consideration, asks if he can observe their holidays -- after all, researching Jewish holidays only does so much. Sam agrees when he explains why, much to her parents chagrin, and he sometimes tags along. But once he gets an understanding of how they go, he starts doing it on his own. Somewhat. He celebrates with Sam for most of it, and then has some time to himself where he celebrates it on his own. So it's a little bit of both.

^^^ which brings me to thinking about my danyal snippet here where Sam is at a Wayne gala and tears into her parents over Danny in front of Bruce. And it's making me think of, with this idea in mind, Sam in a moment of emotional impulsivity, saying "I know that he wears a Star of David because his father is Jewish and he wants to be closer to him, because he loves him so very fucking much." And while saying that, briefly makes direct eye contact with Bruce as a way to tell him "I know you're his fucking dad. Look at the son you have left behind."

If only for the emotional gut punch that can leave Bruce with. 🥰

Thank you for the ask! I had a lot of fun responding to it, have a fantastic evening/day/night.

[writtenfangirl]

The Light

In which Benedict Bridgerton counts the ways he loves you.

I've had this idea for a while and this draft has been sitting in my draft folders for lord knows how long but I finally decided to publish it! After initially reading the Bridgerton books, I want the world to know that Benedict has always been my favorite Bridgerton brother because I relate to him the most.

Epilogue

I. In the quiet moments

Saturday morning was always quiet in Aubrey Hall, Benedict’s childhood home. With Aubrey Hall in the throes of summer, that meant the Y/L/N’s stayed with them. Her mother’s dearest friend had always been Y/M/N, having debut in society together. They had made it their tradition to visit one another during the summer and where Y/M/N, it usually meant Y/N followed. Y/N, who was Y/M/N’s only child with her husband, Y/F/N. She was two years younger than Benedict but they had always been close. 

He was always the first one up, and as the cook and the maids prepare breakfast, he would often sneak away towards Y/N’s room. He knew propriety dictates that such an action was uncouth but he was a child and Y/N was his best friend and so he snuck in anyway. 

He knocked first. That secret knock they devised just last summer so the person on the other side knew that it was them. 

Knock. Knock-knock. Knock.

The door swung open, as if already expecting him. Y/N was already awake and dressed, her hair tied up in a ribbon, her dress clean and pressed. Though Y/N only came to visit Aubrey Hall during the summers, the times that she did were some of Benedict’s favorites and they had their routine down to a tee. 

“What are we doing today, Benedict?” Y/N asked, as she did every morning. 

“We can go visit the lake and see how many animals we can see in the clouds in the sky!”

“Okay!” Y/N said with a childish giggle. 

Benedict gripped her hand, leading Y/N out of her room, past the gardens and towards the lake that bordered their estate. 

They spent the morning watching the sky, their backs pressed against the grass, giggles emanating from the duo as they argued about whether that cloud looked like a frog or a bunny. Their hands were still tightly held within each other’s grasp and they didn’t let go until they were called to breakfast and Benedict dared Y/N to race him back to the manor. 

He knew then that he loved her. She was his best friend and best friends loved each other no matter what.

II. In the loud moments

Benedict’s family was considerably large and though he loved his siblings dearly, he knew that there was never any quiet when it came with them. 

They were loud. And boisterous. Unless they had guests, dinners with the Bridgertons usually ended with dinner being flung across the table. Y/N’s mother had arrived sick with a head cold and had requested to have dinner in her room alone, leaving Y/N to have dinner with the Bridgertons all and on her own. And though Y/N was not a Bridgerton, Benedict knew how much the Bridgertons loved her, especially because she was privy to their chaos. 

Chaos, most especially seen in Aubrey Hall, where 10 year old Anthony had begun sending their father, Edmund, mischievous looks.

Violet, as if sensing the impending doom, had a warning tone already ready. “Anthony Bridgerton, don’t you dare.”

But Anthony paid his mother no heed. Instead, a mischievous smirk stretched across his face before he jumped on the table and loudly screamed, “FOOD FIGHT!” before proceeding to ham fist the mash potatoes, flinging it towards Colin’s open mouth.

Chaos irrupted from the table as everyone, including Benedict’s parents took their own food, flinging it across the other side. Benedict’s mother was laughing in glee despite her previous protestations and Edmund had declared himself Violet’s knight in shining armor, shielding her from the onslaught of lamb stew that Colin threw their way.

Almost instinctively, Benedict felt Y/N’s hand grip his own, pulling him down towards her before Daphne, who was but two and couldn’t possibly understand what was going on but could understand that fun was being had, could hit him with the mashed peas on her plate. 

Then and there, Benedict knew he loved Y/N. It would be difficult not to love her when she would willingly sacrifice her favorite dress to spare Benedict the green stains of mashed peas.

III. In the moments you do not share

He missed Y/N, terribly so. Being away to Eton meant he didn’t see Y/N nearly as much as he wanted to and though they wrote each other letters, it just did not suffice. 

She had been a constant in his life and her sudden absence felt like a rock wedged between his ribs where his heart should be. 

He enjoyed his time at Eton, he truly did. They were schoolboys and youth was their elixir of joy. It meant living life free of inhibitions, gambling and drinking and finding women to fill their beds. But none of his friends could ever hope to replace Y/N’s presence. With Y/N there was no bravado, no explanation. Just unhurried conversation and fun he could remember tomorrow. 

He couldn’t wait to see her and his much needed vacation in a week was enough to give Benedict a spring in his step. 

Today also happened to be mail day and though he knew he was going to see his best friend in a week, he still anticipated her weekly letter. 

With the letter slipped into his dorm at the end of the day, he quickly sliced through the wax that bore Y/N’s family crest, reading through its content. 

My dearest, Benedict,

I suspect that by the time you receive this letter, the time between us seeing each other will have considerably shortened. I miss you terribly. Summers in Aubrey Hall are simply not the same without you. Colin has turned whiny waiting for his two older brothers to come home and spend the summer with him. Daphne is growing taller by the day and Eloise has begun to learn how to read. She and Francesca are joined by the hip everyday. Your mother and father are as splendid as always and I suspect a Bridgerton whose name begins with G will soon join us.

I am quite alright though I am shamed to admit how terribly I’ve missed my greatest friend. My mother and father are also splendid as is the rest of my family. Do come home in one piece. I’m afraid I may go slowly mad with Colin pestering me everyday. 

The Light of Your Life, Y/N Y/L/N

Y/N’s words brought him all the comfort he needed. He loved his time in Eton but he could not deny it’s loneliness. His friends couldn’t understand how it is he could possibly miss his family but theirs was a strange existence. His parents valued love above all else and he had grown up alongside his siblings in a home full of love and laughter. 

And he knew then that he loved Y/N for her ability to assure him, to lull him into a calm that could keep his mood afloat for days.

IV. In the moments you do share

Oh how he missed her. He missed the way Y/N’s H/C hair whips through the wind, carrying with her heady scent. He missed her twinkling laughter, her teasing smile. He especially missed the feel of her hand grasped around his. 

They were growing up and though Benedict knew that their youth would still be with them, there was a certain kind of melancholy that came with the realization that things will not always be as they were. Y/N had informed him that with her debut to society next year, she would not be able to spend the summers with him. He couldn’t imagine Y/N married to anyone, let alone married to anyone unworthy of her and he had been insistent that he spent next year’s summer with her.

“Y/N, light of my life,” he said, his tone serious but his eyes lit with jest. He’d begun calling her that after he heard his father call his mother the light of his life and he knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that Y/N was the light of his life. He pulled them to a stop, Aubrey Hall looming in front of them despite being a great distance away.

“Yes, Benedict, light of my life?” She said demurely. 

“Do you think you can make me a promise?”

“What promise is that?”

“You won’t marry someone unworthy of you.”

At that, she laughed. “If I have any say about it I shan’t marry at all. But I’ve held it off as long as I can. I’m twenty one now and mother is at her wits end.” But her eyes grew serious and somber, her laughter slipping from her lips. She looked at him as though she knew deeply, truly, what was inside Benedict’s heart. He reached for her, felt the silky lock of hair that fell from her chignon, her breath that feathered across his wrist as he tucked the strand of hair behind her ear. His eyes were fully trained on her face, at the way her lashes swept across her cheeks, the red flush that crept up her neck that Benedict knew would take him weeks to shade match. He wouldn’t deign call her cheeks rosy. She would hate him for comparing her to something so common.

If Benedict were to paint her at this moment, he’d call it Summer’s Embrace. It captured her beauty, the ephemerality of today.

He could feel the heat of her and it was as if that very heat burrowed itself within him, finding a home in his heart. When she spoke again, her words were but a whisper, the spoken promise of planets swearing fealty to their stars. “I swear to you, Benedict. I will not marry someone who is not worthy of me.”

And with her promise, it was as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He could feel the rush of air in his lungs mixed with her heady scent, the scent of childhood and misty early mornings. He felt her hand squeeze his own in earnest and Benedict knew that she would keep her promise forever if she could. He loved her then, for that promise. How could he not love the way she loved herself? Fiercely and with a protectiveness that Benedict knew was reserved for him and only him.

V. In the soft moments

There were no nights as special as rainy nights and none were as special as the ones he got to share with Y/N.

Knock. Knock-knock. Knock. 

The door flung open, revealing Y/N. Her E/C were shiny with excitement, her face positively glowing. 

She was wearing her simplest dress, covered only by a black frock that Benedict had leant her once that she refused to return. Her feet was clad in her finest riding boots and Benedict nearly had to clamp his own mouth shut to keep from rejoicing. 

“It’s raining,” Benedict noted with a grin. 

“I gathered as much,” Y/N said with a grin as equally mischievous as his. 

“It would be the responsible thing to stay indoors. You are to leave for London tomorrow and I imagine that such a long journey may end in you getting a head cold.“

“Benedict, light of my life, when have we ever been responsible?” She looked at up at him, grinning like the devil. 

And before the both of them lost their nerve, Benedict grabbed Y/N’s hand, sneaking them down the stairs and past the gardens, letting the rain wash over them. 

Oh he adored the rain’s ability to wash away everything. And he knew how much Y/N loved the rain too. How she adored letting it fall on her skin as she jumped over puddles and danced on the wet grass.

Her long hair stuck to her forehead, giving her the appearance of a drowned cat but her wide smile more than made up for it. Even in the darkness that smile could light up a thousand lanterns and Benedict never found her more beautiful than she looked now. 

A sudden feeling seized him and before cowardice could choke it down, he was already pulling her to him. “Y/N, I must tell you something,” Benedict yelled over the din of the rain, catching her chin between his fingers. Drops of rain were caught between her lashes, her breath coming out in pants between her lips. 

Goddess Divine. That’s what he’d call this painting of her. 

“What is it, Benedict?”

He swallowed. An invisible force had consumed him, wrenching the words from his lips before he could stop them. “I love you.”

Her eyes widened, her mouth falling open in surprise. “W-what?”

“I love you,” he repeated, courage surging within him, his previous hesitancy evaporating like steam. His hand reached for hers almost instinctively. He felt her warmth, the way the heat of her hand seemed to jolt through his body like static. “Most ardently. In every way a man could love a woman, I love you. You are truly the light of my life and without you, I am pitched in darkness. You are the cracks in my heart but also balm soothes that it. I love you, Y/N. I have spent years of my life loving you in secret and I can bear it no more. I love you.”

He could see it in her eyes, the love she bore for him. It was the same love he felt for her, a garden in full bloom. But the words that followed her were not the words he thought he’d hear. “Benedict, I have been promised to someone else.”

VI. In the hard moments

“What?”

“I have no choice,” Y/N’s voice was cracking as hard as his heart. “My father has promised my hand to another. My debut, it is a farce, meant only to assuage his guilt for selling his only daughter. I am to be married to the Duke of Albany before the season ends and then he will ship me away to the colonies. He sold me to the Duke to pay off his debts. I have no dowry, no money. I thought to spend my last summer with the people who loved me, truly loved me. The Bridgertons have treated me as their own family. You have treated me as your own. Benedict, please I am so sorry.” She was rambling now, that much he could see. She always did that whenever she was close to crying, as if the fast words would somehow catch her tears before they fell.

He should say something, he knew he should but the words stuck to his throat like honey. It was all too much in too little time. Married? Shipped to the colonies? Benedict thought he had more time. More time to charm her parents and offer himself as a candidate for her hand in marriage. He’d already had every intention of marrying her but now his plans had turned to ash in front of his eyes. 

“This was a mistake,” Y/N muttered pulling her hand away his. “I never should’ve come. I should’ve left like my father had suggested. He was right. This is all too hard.“

Thunder clashed like rolling drums in the sky. What has once been a pleasant pitter-patter of rain had turned into a torrential downpour, soaking Benedict to the bone. Any warmth he had felt had dissipated, leaving him shivering. 

Before Benedict could stop her, Y/N was already racing towards Aubrey Hall, leaving Benedict with the bitter taste of heartbreak in his tongue.

VII. In the moments they shared with others

He was a fool. A right bloody fool who didn’t deserve her.

How could he have let her slipped free so easily? When Benedict had finally come to his senses, Y/N had already fled Aubrey Hall, taking her carriage and lady’s maid with her. Before Benedict could hope to give chase, Anthony had stopped him, citing that the heavy rain had made the roads treacherous. 

“All the more reason to chase after her!” Benedict bellowed, his insides twisted in worry. He was still dripping wet from the rain, the roaring fire doing nothing to dry him off. “If something were to happen to her, I could never forgive myself.”

“Dearest, you must calm yourself,” Violet said in a soothing voice. “Y/N is strong. She is more than capable of taking care of herself.”

“You don’t understand, Mama,” Benedict said clearly still agitated. “She is to marry!”

“It is her first season and she hasn’t even debuted yet,” Anthony said with a furrowed brow. 

“She is engaged to be married to the Duke of Albany. He means to live in the colonies and take her with him. He’s going to take away my Y/N. Mama, Anthony, please we must make haste and stop them.” He was begging now but he didn’t care. He’d beg on the very streets of London if it meant stopping Y/N’s wedding.

“The Duke of Albany’s 30 years her senior!” Anthony protested. “Her father couldn’t possible mean to marry her off to that odious man!”

“Hush, my darling,” Violet said as she pulled Benedict into hug despite their large height difference and how wet he was. “When the rain abates, I will join you myself in stopping their wedding.”

“Mama, I love her. I cannot. I—“

“I know,” Violet soothed. “It will be alright, Benedict. You shall see.”

But he couldn’t see. If Y/N reaches London, he knew in his heart of hearts that she would marry the Duke and sail off to the colonies without saying good bye. He knew it to be true because it is what Y/N would believe to be the best for them. If she left for the colonies, Benedict would never see her again and this would ease the heartbreak. At least, this is what she was likely telling herself to assuage her guilt. 

But Y/N didn’t know how much affection Benedict carried in his heart for her. He could never love another woman so long as she breathed and even if she were to pass before him, she would hold his heart in her bones forever. 

“I have to go get her.” Benedict declared, ripping himself away from his mother’s embrace. 

Ignoring his brother’s cries, Benedict ran from the sitting room, towards the stables. Grim determination had consumed him, his thoughts focused on Y/N and only Y/N.

He’d go on horseback. It will be faster and he was a decent rider, he could catch up to her. He had to. 

“My lord,” the stablehand stammered upon seeing him. The smell of horses permeated his nose though it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. 

“Help me, please. Our fastest horse.” Benedict panted, his breath winded from his short run. 

“But, my lord, it is pouring. I can prepare the carriage—“

“No, I’ll be faster on horseback. Please do as I ask.”

The stablehand simply nodded and ran through the notions of preparing their fastest horse.

He heard his brother first before he saw him. 

“Benedict, do not be rash.” Anthony was now as wet as he was from the rain.

“I am going and you cannot hope to stop me.” Benedict barely spared his brother a glance. “A little rain never hurt anyone.”

“Then I shall go with you,” Anthony motioned to the stablehand to prepare another horse. 

“Follow after me if you’d like but as soon as my horse is finished, I will ride.”

The stablehand moved quickly, cinching belts and hoops in record time and it wasn’t long before Benedict was on the saddle, the stable doors banging open as his horse leapt through them.

The horse felt fast beneath him despite the rain and moved with the same urgency its rider felt. He would not be deterred. If he had to stop the wedding at the altar, then he will do so. He cared not for dowries or money and properties and his family was wealthy enough for both of them. All he cared about was her. 

It wasn’t long before he saw carriage lamps up ahead and he knew that it was Y/N. The carriage was moving at a languid pace, no doubt the driver was worried about a potential accident caused by the torrential downpour. 

It only served to spur Benedict on. 

“Stop!” Benedict yelled at the carriage.

It was as if God Himself was on his side. By some miracle, the driver heard him over the loud din of the rainfall. Benedict kicked at his heels as the carriage slowed, letting his horse ride just a little bit further than the four horses that pulled the carriage.

“Master Bridgerton,” The driver said, his eyes wide in surprise but Benedict paid him no mind. He dismounted from his horse before circling towards the door of the carriage. And then he knocked that secret knock they shared as children.

Knock. Knock-knock. Knock.

“Go away, Benedict.” Her voice was muffled through the door. The window’s curtain was drawn but he could see her vague silhouette as well as the silhouette of her maid. 

“You do not have to say anything. You do not even have to answer me. But I implore you to listen.”

When Y/N didn’t say anything further, he continued.

“I wish to marry you,” Benedict said, his voice strong despite his pounding heart. For once in his life, he spoke to Y/N from his heart, let the words drip from his tongue like honey. He didn’t care that they had an audience, that Anthony was approaching from his own horse, that Y/N’s maid was in the carriage with her and that her driver was looking at him as though he’d grown two heads. Right now, all he saw was her. “Do you understand me, Y/N? I wish to marry you. I care not for your dowry or your money, I care only for you. If you wish to never look at me again, say so at once and I shall depart and I will never share in your presence until the day I pass from this world. I will endure the pain and the heartbreak because I love you and I wish only for your happiness. You need only tell me that you do not feel the same for me.

“But if you find that you cannot live without me the way I cannot live without you, tell me so. Let us end our own miseries and be happy. You, who deserve happiness more than anyone else in this earth.”

Despite the loud din of the rain, Benedict’s world grew silent, focused. His attention was on the carriage and the carriage alone. He knew that if Y/N told him to leave, he would do so without a moment’s hesitation. He will ride on his horse and turn his back away from her and he will never see her again. 

But then, the knob turned slowly then all at once. The carriage door opened so fast, Benedict barely had time to jump out of the way before the door could hit him. 

Y/N’s face was illuminated by the carriage’s lamps. She was still wet, wearing the same simple dress snd frock she had been wearing, having left Aubrey Hall in such a rush that a puddle had pooled at her feet, one that her lady’s maid desperately tried to wipe away. 

But neither of them cared about that right now. An asteroid could crash from the heavens and obliterate the earth but their dust would stay in an embrace for the rest of eternity if they could. 

She made her way out of the carriage, ignoring her maid’s protestations and making her way in front of Benedict. Whatever parts of her body that dried by her time in the carriage was immediately soaked by the rain once again.

She looked up at him, her eyes almost twinkling. 

Venus on Earth would be the name of the next painting. Of that, Benedict was certain.

“I love you too,” Y/N whispered before grabbing his lapel and pulling him down to a kiss.

In front of all these witnesses no less!

Y/N’s lady’s maid gasped in surprise while the carriage driver and Anthony averted their eyes but Benedict didn’t care. He leaned into the kiss, relishing the taste of her. She tasted like rain, like misty mornings and the sweetness of youth. And their kiss was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He’s kissed plenty of girls before but nothing and no one would ever compare to Y/N.

And when they pulled away, Y/N’s grin could only be described as incandescent.

“Now you two truly must marry,” Anthony said but there was no displeasure in his voice, only keen triumph, “lest Y/N’s father wants his daughter’s reputation in tatters. I will write to him tomorrow. Tonight I will write to the Archbishop of Canterbury for a special license and you two can wed before the week is out.”

“Thank you, brother,” Benedict said, finally feeling able to breathe.

He looked at Y/N, saw the triumph in her eyes. Y/N was one of the smartest people Benedict knew and though she knew kissing him would bring scandal nipping her heels, it would also force her father’s hand. The Duke of Albany wouldn’t want to marry Y/N if her reputation had been compromised.

It was no matter. To Benedict she was perfection and he wouldn’t have her any other way, tattered reputation or no.

“You are a bloody idiot, Benedict Bridgerton,” Y/N said but there was no malice in her voice. Just pure sprightly joy. “It took you this long to realize you loved me?”

He grinned, the kind of grin a man has when he knew his place in the world and his was beside her. “In truth, I fell in love with your fire long ago. Cowardice just seized me every time I felt the urge to tell you my feelings. But I do well and truly love you.”

“I love you, too.”

VIII. In their moments alone

Knock. Knock-knock. Knock.

Y/N’s door opened quickly, a strained smile on her face as she ushered Benedict in. Propriety dictated that their actions could only be deemed scandalous but Benedict didn’t care. He was marrying her tomorrow anyway. There was nothing and no one that could stop them.

It had been two days since the carriage incident and Y/N’s father had arrived on horseback to Aubrey Hall as soon as he’d received the missive.

“I have promised you to the Duke of Albany!” Her father had roared as soon as he managed to push his way through the butler, storming towards the sitting room where the Bridgerton family was having tea. Violet had the younger children ushered away from the confrontation, leaving only Y/N, Benedict, Anthony, and Colin.

“Who is older than even you, Father.” Y/N had said, the picture of serenity and calm. She was sitting on the chair closest to the window, the sun’s glow settling against her skin. She looked sublime. 

Ethereal Grace would be a befitting title for this painting.

“He is a Duke and 18th in line to inherit the British Crown! He is being sent to the colonies to govern. With his money, you will live a life even better than I could have ever provided for you as a baron!”

“I care not for his money, Father,” her voice had some heat to it now, “You sold me. Like some brood mare whose only purpose is to breed and pay off your debts!”

“I did not!” He sputtered. But shame coated him, his eyes nervously looking at the Bridgertons. While women in society were often betrothed without their consent, notions of selling were generally frowned upon. If word ever got out that Y/N’s father married her off for money, he would be ostracized by society. Even worse, if such word ever reached the King or Queen, he could be stripped of his peerage, becoming even more destitute than before. 

“I will be wed tomorrow to Benedict,” Y/N’s voice was hard now, all conviction and fire, “You cannot stop us. Anthony has acquired the special license and the Archbishop of Canterbury himself has agreed to marry us as a favor to Violet. You have come in vain.”

At that, Y/N’s father’s face turned thunderous. He took a menacing step towards her, one that had Benedict standing at attention, turning him into a protective shield. Her father eyed him distastefully and Benedict returned his venom. 

“You are making a terrible mistake. She has no dowry,” Her father hissed at him. “She has nothing.”

“She has me,” Benedict replied, his voice calm despite the rage simmering beneath his skin. If Y/N, despite all the pain and heartbreak wrought by this man, could continue to remain calm, then he shall do the same. “That is enough. She is enough.”

This time it was Anthony who spoke, his voice as hard as steel. “You will find, sir, that we care not for Y/N’s dowry, only of her happiness. Perhaps it is time you depart, before you do something you will regret. Colin, get the door.”

Y/N’s father’s fists turned white but just as Benedict thought he would swing, he turned and walked away. 

But before he could cross the threshold, Y/N called out to him, “Our wedding will be at noon tomorrow, Father. If you and mother would like to bear witness, it would bring me great joy.”

But Y/N’s father simply continued walking. 

It had broken Y/N’s heart, which is why Benedict came to her room that evening. 

He pulled her close, letting her sob for the first time since seeing her father. He knew that tomorrow will be the happiest day of their lives but for now, for tonight, Y/N was allowed to grieve. 

“I love you. I have never been prouder of you than when you stood up to your father,” Benedict said, tucking her head beneath his chin and pressing a chaste kiss on her head. “Everything will be alright, you’ll see.”

“Do you mind staying with me tonight?” Y/N asked with a sniffle, her voice hopeful.

Any other time, the word yes would have fallen from his lips like the water of a fountain. But if there was ever a time for Benedict to try and make her feel better, it was now. So rather than a simple yes, different words flew from his lips, teasing and accompanied with an affronted gasp b“Ms. Y/L/N, do you mean to compromise me? I am a gentleman! Unhand me, at once, you cur!”

Y/N gave him that look, the same look she always gave him when they were children and she knew Benedict was trying his best to cheer him up but, nevertheless, Y/N’s once somber expression lifted into her own mocking look of surprise as she wiped away her tears. “I will have you know, Mr. Bridgerton, that I am a lady! Your insinuations are greatly unfounded. Leave my room at once before you leave me with a sordid reputation.”

But Benedict did not leave. Instead, he took her hand and pulled her towards the bed, letting her body mould against his like he was a sculptor and she was wet clay. 

“My mother and father kept one bedroom, did you know that?” Benedict said as Y/N settled against him. He let his fingers roam, letting it comb through her hair before journeying down her neck, down her arms before resting on her hand.

“Oh?”

It was unusual for members of the aristocracy to like their spouses let alone love them as most marriages were arranged based on factors such as dowries and wealth. Spouses tended to keep separate bedrooms, choosing to spend an evening with the other only if there was a need to but Benedict’s parents were a true love match. They stayed in one bedroom until the day his father died and even then, his mother refused to leave. Better a love lost than a love never found were words Violet often used as an explanation. 

“Is that something you’d like for us?” Y/N asked, peering up at him through her lashes. “A single bedroom?”

“I intend to stay with you tonight and every night after we are married. It would be quite a challenge to do so in separate beds.”

“Alright then,” she said with a giggle, “a single bedroom it is.” 

“What about you? Any requests for our future home?”

“A sunroom would be quite nice. With many shelves filled with books that I can read. The light would be heavenly and you could paint while I read. It would be beautiful to have tea there rather than have a sitting room.“

“Your wish is my command, Y/N, light of my life.”

“Oh and, several bedrooms. I think I’d like to return the favor and host the Bridgertons every summer. And several more rooms for our future children, whenever we are ready to have them.”

“Of course,” Benedict said with a nod and smile. 

“And a garden. Large and beautiful. Full of flowers of all shapes and sizes.”

“We will fill it with all of your favorites.”

She paused and then she frowned. “What if my father was right and we are making a terrible mistake?”

He squeezed her tightly, letting his enveloping his fingers around Y/N’s hands. “Then we will make this mistake together and we shall have no regrets. I cannot see the future, my love, but I greatly remember our past. I know that whatever troubles may find us, we will face it together and so long as we are together, we can face anything.”

He watched her brow smoothened as another smile entered her sweet face. 

“Now, what else would you like for our future home, Mrs. Bridgerton?”

And as they planned their future home, their future lives, Benedict couldn’t help but think just how lucky he was in that moment they were alone. Perhaps he was being too idealistic. He had lived a life of splendor most people could only wish for, with no real adversaries besides the problem he’d encountered with his love life. Perhaps saying that they could face anything together only proved to tempt destiny into hurdling them towards trouble. But he did mean every word he said. He could face anything, be anything so long as Y/N was by his side. Y/N, who would always help him look past the darkness and see the light. Because that was what she was. The light of his life. And he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

[the-summ0ning]

Sleep Token HC: being in a relationship with III

NSFW elements, fluffy ideas that have been ruminating in my head the past couple weeks… to the point I abandoned my main blog to create a side blog for my fav masked men

Easily having scary dog privileges w iii as your man w the slasher-esque aesthetic about him

But we all know that’s not the case

III the bf you lets you play with his rings on his hands when your anxious

Playing with his hair all. the. time! I’m talking twirling the ends, head scratchies, all of it! He hated how much it had an affect on him

He could be going on a tangent laying his head in your lap on the couch after a long day, and he’d instantly shut up melting into your touch once you started playing with his hair!

III the bf who’s love languages involved gift giving, and physical touch

would most likely buy you the most cheesiest, corniest, tourist of tourist souvenirs from each city he went to just to show you how much he thinks of you and misses you. Even if your apartment is overflowing with his little treasures and you had to invest in an a P.O. Box

Receiving ‘Daddy’s Little Meatball’ and ‘I love ___’ shirts all the time, snowglobes, and hats (you definitely got a cheesehead hat when they played in Wisconsin and a cowboy hat with feathers and a tiara when they were in Texas)

Sending you postcards with the most embarrassing, filthiest things written on them like the post men wouldn’t see it

Including but not limited to

‘Hi love, here Down Under thinking when I can I be down under you :( ”

“Visited one of the 7 wonders of the world today, you should be the 8th ;)”

“Can’t wait to show you my Big Ben again <3”

The most fashionable one of the members, every show you attend, he would try to coordinate your two outfits.

Including hairstyles… matching space buns or french braids?!? Are you kidding me?? Or even matching hair colors once in a while??

Speaking of hair, you would have to help him dye his hair, or shave his undercut late at night in the bathroom. Vice versa if you wanted the same color. Indulging on your favorite beverage or a little joint, giggling every time you would get a speck of dark/bright dye on each other. Or jokingly act like you buzzed too much hair to rile him up

He also solely has a folder on his phone dedicated to pictures (including a lot of candid off guards of just you two in your own little world backstage) taken by Adam and crew members of the two of you matching/coordinating

His phone background is of you sitting criss cross on a large equipment case looking down at him leaning against it trying to tune his bass, but his head is leaned back gazing up at you through his mask instead… both with space buns in your hair

Since your relationship couldn’t be public and be blaring obvious to most people you knew, III would get you two permanent bracelets. Yours would have a tiny ‘iii’ on it and his would have a tiny initial of your first name.

Even though he would have to profusely clean it after shows from the red body paint. It was something he was willing to do to carry this cheeky secret.

And somewhere in his favorites folder of his phone he has a picture of your tinier hand trying to wrap around his cock with the dainty chain hung displaying ‘iii’ clearly around your wrist

And ofc a pic of you two facing a mirror with his hand wrapped around your neck displaying your initial proudly on his

Which leads me into

He definitely has a size kink in all different types of aspects

Him loving the fact he was so significantly taller than you (lets face it he’s a a long fuckin string bean), and letting it be known

It always (not so) subtly came out

In his pet names for you: doll, bunny, kitten–anything small and cutesy really…even if they became so unserious or cringe

When he would just casually walk by you, and ruffling your hair calling you ‘squirt’, making you roll your eyes and scoff. (The other band members may have started to do this as well bc of III)

His adrenaline still rushing after a show, great rehearsal, or recording session barreling over to you to give you a bear hug, lifting you off the floor swinging you around profusely

you would be doing something or talking to someone, he’d catch you off guard by coming up behind you resting his chin on the top of your head, giving your shoulders a light squeeze or massage

Watching you struggle for something on a higher shelf, and waiting until you would almost give up in defeat to come up behind you making sure to press his body against the back of you as he did so to leave you flustered

Despite him being a giant, and perfect big spoon material–he wants to be lil spoon most times.

Loving your arms around his waist, feeling the soft heave of your chest pressed against his back as you slept, providing the comfort and peace he needed after a day in his busy life

He’d be in a drunken/high haze and when it would be just the two of you, he would compare his hand to yours always, smiling lazily over at you adoringly

Admire how his hand practically encapsulated the expanse of your throat when you were up against a wall or underneath him.

A small growl leaving his lips, when he tried to fit inside you loving how you squeeze him

“Fuck doll, are you gonna be able to take all of me?” He hisses, pushing your legs further apart

Or watching how’d you have to use two hands and barely fitting him into your palms when you gave him a hand job

“Baby you’re squeezing me so good.” He tries his best to not let his eyes roll to the back of his head, watching you struggle to jerk him

In conclusion, I need this man biblically.. and I got carried away and could have kept going if you guys want me to keep going I can 🤭🥹 I do plan on doing one for the others too. Reblogs, likes, and replies are always appreciated and fuels my validation

[neonovember]

i watching civil war earlier and idk why but i had a random thought, imagine you and steve are dating or have a situationship but during civil war you choose tonys side instead of his, and he gets mad and you both end up arguing and don’t see each other til infinity war, where you guys both apologize and forgive each other🤭

warnings; reader and steve are both teetering on morally grey, mentions of violence, the goddamn accords, swearing, mentions of death, regret

authors notes; this has been sitting in my inbox for so long and I finally just wrote a little snippet of how i would want to write this request. If you guys enjoy it I'd love to expand! I'm thinking each part is at different times (fight on the tarmac and then post civil war).

divider by @firefly-graphics

You had met Steve right before the Avengers had been scrapped together with uneasy fingers.

There was a level of trepidation about the plan Fury had to gather a bunch of people who had enough power and strength to take down countries then. And despise how different you and the blonde soldier were, him being Captain Fucking America, the golden boy of the world and you being the recently cleared weapon the blossoms of fellowship sprung forth like a dandelion bursting through cracks of concrete.

There was an understanding between you both that came with navigating a new world for the first time. The loss and loneliness Steve had felt those few months following his waking, was something akin to how you felt, living a life now of normalcy. You didn’t know how to stand in line for coffee after so many years living in yellow ceilinged motels and abandoned houses off of highways. Steve could never sleep on the King sized bed Stark had fitted, the uneasy feeling sinking so different to the sharp jagged surfaces he was used to. It bonded you both, hell it bonded you with Bucky even.

Friendship had been just that for years, until it had morphed into stolen glances and feather touches. Until you both could finally admit to the longing that stretched between the space and waiting silence that lived between you both. You wanted to say that nothing had changed, but oh had it. 

You loved him with the entirety of your being, you felt it jitter in its iridescent reverie beneath your fingers each time you grazed them against his skin. It wasn't easy though, you both were so fierce, so mighty, there were times where you hated him just as much, where his steel unrelenting gaze made you want to wring his neck.

Tony leans back, steeping his fingers as his eyes cut to the rest of the Avengers sitting on the office chairs. There is a silence, the team waiting for someone to speak up and Steve's disgruntled face twists into disapproval

“You’re insane if you think this could work, Tony”

“Steve, listen, I understand what you're saying but what are we going to do?” Tony quickly remarks, almost as if he has been waiting for the inevitable argument to seize

“I got a couple of ideas, but it all ends with throwing this” Steve cuts his eyes to the stack of papers centred in front of him, disgust fleeting through his features, as if he could cause the offending manila folder to combust with his blues. “Back into their goddamn faces”.

“Really?

“Yes, what are you thinking Tony? This is goddamn hearsay”

Sam and Bucky nod their agreement, and there is a slow ripple of sides that form, the team is split, and it's not long before a back and forth surges between steve and tony, both eager to assert their point of view, both feeling it is their righteous duty to promote or throw the accords out the window.

The incessant remarks that have begun to cause the office room to quickly turn heated leaves you shaking your head, falling into the palm of your hand as you sit back against the chair. All of these stupid arguments, it was simple in your head. 

You didn't like the feeling of being put on a leash by the government but the accords were not exactly as blasphemous as Steve was saying it was, and your silent agreement following Tony’s speech causes you to speak up without thinking.

“I mean, it’s not bad” The sound of your voice is even, devoid of indignation or anger the way steve and tony’s is, and a silence settles over the office as the avengers look towards you in shock. You didn't speak much, opting to sit and let the rest of them have their say, but with each inquisitive look you feel a new sense of purpose. This was right, this was good, this could help you.

Steve looks towards you quickly, cocking his head to the side as he regards you with new eyes.

Your name sounds foreign as it passes through his lips

“Steve”

The rest of the avengers watch on as you both stare at each other

“You don’t seriously think this is smart?” Steve breaks first, always. Relents.

“It’s good. It’s great actually. Tony’s is right. We don’t get to run off and jump into every goddamn crisis like kids on a playground.”

“Cmon, this will kill people!”

“WE'VE KILLED PEOPLE! I have. Me, Steve. Call me selfish, this is my retribution-”

“You know that wasn’t on you, how could you have known-“

“Enough. I’ve let it eat me away already alright? It’s the fucking goddamn truth Steve. And you know it.

Betrayal bleeds through Steve's features, it humanes him. softens out the jagged edges that came from this life and he looks decades younger. He looks at you like the sickly asthmatic child he once was, and you tear your eyes away from him.

Blink, and it was gone, his regality and cutting calculating air of pristine dominance overtaking every last bit of him, bleeding back into his cheekbones and the depth of his ocean blues.

“You're not stupid, you're the smartest person I know and you can’t see the liability we’d find ourselves in? What happens when they deport us into a goddamn war zone? Use us to fight their battles huh?”

“We destroyed a country Steve. Sokovia, New York, goddamn Wakanda! We’ve left our mark, we’ve saved a lot of people, but we’ve also displaced thousands, people have lost their entire lives, just wiped out with a fling of your shield, while we come back to this-“ You shift your gaze along the Tower walls

“This fucking concrete sanctuary, showering away blood and fucking alien guts-“

“Hey, I quite like this building, it’s got its charm-“ Tony chimes

And you tilt your face to meet his.

“Shut up Tony”

“What we do, we do because we know it’s right, I’m not saying we leave the fight without a care about the aftermath, but collateral is a given when you do the things we do”

“Right now, the power is in our hands, we all have the interest of the people in mind, these governments? They don’t care. They are going to make us fight their own battles, use us like goddamn military weapons for their own agendas. I don’t have to remind you of all people? What's it like to be used as the government's pawn?” Steve replied bluntly, the harsh words stinging you as you look up at him with furrowed brows. 

That was low, especially for him. The claws of his passion escaping into jabs at your past.

A newfound anger blossoms within you, and you try and steer it with a clench of your fists that wean the plush leather of your armchair.

“You wanna talk about being used as a test tube by the government? You wanna talk about a fight that gets the other side exactly what they want? Do you forget about what you left for Hydra?” You spit without thinking, wincing as Bucky turns to you in quickness, his eyes shifting as they look towards you.

“Fuck..this is getting out of hand” Murmurs Sam, Tony beginning to switch from being entertained to looking grim.

“You do this Y/N, and you sign a death-”

“You do this Steve? You fight this? I’ll put you in the goddamn raft myself" 

You cut him off with a blanch, the rest of the avengers stutter a breath, Tony looking towards you with raised eyes and you appraise them all with a disgruntled huff.

Steve looks taken back, the cool demeanour cracking as he remains dumbfounded. Did you truly mean it? Of course not, despite everything you had a level of trust bonding you to Steve in a way that just wasn’t with the other team.

“I didn't-”

“I know” Steve blinks, but you can still see the way he stares distantly

“This is surprising” Tony replies, leaning against the kitchen counter, the silence cut by his sarcastic remark.

You cut your eye to him, narrowing them as he puts his hand up in meek surrender

“No no it’s good, I’ve got two ex assassins on board, if you don’t agree they could probably just tie you all up and force you too” Tony chuckles, and you shake your head with a murmur.

“Don’t do this Steve, I get it, you don’t trust the government that was infiltrated by fucking Nazis, but- can’t you see there is truth to it? Between the fucking corporate lines and bullet points?

“You aren’t stupid, alright? This- this isn’t stupid. It’s the smartest thing I think we've done in years” Is your parting remark before skidding off of the too comfortable seat and walking out the office doors.

[alicerosejensen]

YANDERE RE6 LEON IS LIKE

in my opinion hes someone that would shield you from anyone, he can be possessive asf idk what else lol

It could be Leon! vendetta, so we kill two birds with one stone.

∆ He is a huge possessive in relation to you. If a man is standing next and has a nice conversation with you, then this is a red flag for him.

∆ If you're younger than him and keep your naivete, then Leon will find it charming. But your problem is that he decided that you need to be protected.

∆ It follows that Leon is protecting Yandere. He hates being away from you

∆ However, from the first time you will not see the oddities in Leon's behavior. It will seem to you that he is just a handsome man who is interested in you, but Leon already has all the information about you, down to your blood type.

∆ At home, he has a whole folder with your personal information. He needs to control everything you do and who you talk to. Therefore, he will quietly steal your phone and track all your social networks and calls. Of course, he will return your mobile to you, but you will not know anything about the fact that all your calls and messages will be viewed by Leon.

∆ "Leon is just a nice guy" you think when he brings you something that you've been texting with your bestie about. It could be chocolate, ice cream, or an invitation to dinner at a trendy new but very expensive restaurant. It doesn’t even occur to you how it turns out that he guesses everything you want.

∆ It's funny right? Your phone and Leon's phone always notify you of a new message alert at the same time.

∆ The only difference is that Leon also receives your messages on his phone. But he only did it for your safety.

∆ He doesn't want you to be afraid of him, so no, you won't suspect anything about his true attitude towards you. Leon is good at hiding emotions if he needs it.

∆ Once your relationship starts to develop, you will notice that Leon always has his hand on your waist or your wrist. And the grip is quite strong. Leon doesn't like it when you move more than a couple of steps away from him.

∆ He needs you to live with him, so that you can be in his line of sight around the clock. He still checks your social networks and correspondence through his phone.

∆ You don't have to work, sweetheart. He will try to talk you out of your job (especially if you are a waitress or some other service industry). It just irritates him unbearably that you can be kind to someone other than him, but he will not make a scandal to you. If you do not quit yourself, Leon will make sure that you are fired or you could not stand it and left this job yourself.

∆ He doesn't care what you buy, he'll pay you whatever you want, especially if you're such a good girl for him. The main thing is to thank him with kisses or hugs.

∆ He actually likes it when you smell like his cologne. For him, it's like a symbol that you belong only to him.

∆ Leon sits you on his lap when he works at home with paperwork. He doesn’t like it when you try to go somewhere on your own business, so he can lightly slap you on the ass, seat you back, pressing him to him and tell you in a warning tone to behave well.

∆ No night walks with friends, clubs. In fact, Leon will try to make sure that he becomes your only company, and no, he has no idea why your friends are such bastards, but you should not worry about it.

∆ The longer you are in a relationship, the stronger his control. Perhaps you can take off your rose-colored glasses and look at the situation from a different angle when you see that Leon has completely taken control of your life.

∆ Your phone has been tracked by him for a long time. Leon always knows where you're going.

∆ You are financially dependent on him and you have nowhere to go even if you understand that your relationship is far from normal.

∆ Leon will immediately notice your nervousness. He will try to carefully ask you about what makes you nervous and if you dare to ask him about your suspicions, he will simply grin and call you his silly girl. "Don't make me a villain, my dear, I'm the only one who can take care of you to the fullest. The world is generally full of shit"

∆ At home, you can do whatever you want. When you are both at home, Leon's vigilance weakens a little, although you can't help noticing how he periodically checks to see if everything is all right with you. It can be a silent heavy look or a light touch to your body.

∆ Perhaps Leon's behavior is related to his work, but even if you tell him that you don't like this attitude and you would like more freedom, then… "oh, sweetheart, am I holding you hostage? Am I treating you badly? Beating you up?" Leon knows how, but he doesn't like manipulating you. However, if he needs to use gaslighting to get you to stay with him, he will do it.

∆ He will never go as far as kidnapping or physical abuse, but psychologically... Leon will hit all the spots so that you are completely dependent on him. You will just think that without him your whole world will collapse.

∆ However, he still loves you. His love is strange and Leon has chosen the most sophisticated way to have you with him, but because of everything he's been through, he just doesn't know how else to keep you close to him.

∆ He really does not mind the money on you, if you want to go somewhere, he will take you, but the constant control will drive you crazy. If it undermines your psyche and you try to commit suicide, then he will never leave you again. You may even hate him, but in the eyes of others, Leon will be a good guy who continues to love his mentally unstable girlfriend no matter what.

∆ “You can’t leave her alone, you understand? Please watch her very carefully, she must take all her medicines strictly on time. This is important!” - this is what Leon will say to your nurse hired especially for you. The DSO must have contributed to this somehow, after all, Leon has an impeccable reputation as an agent.

∆ What can you say to others? He didn't really kidnap you or rape you. Leon just cares about you and the sooner you realize that, the better it will be for you.

∆ He still watches stupid shows with you that somehow entertain you; sits you on his lap and just asks how you feel. He loves you and if he has to limit you in some way, then this is only for your own good, understand.

∆ In the end you will understand that he wishes you only the very best. You just need time.

[yunhobug]

Seonghwa NSFW Alphabet

Seonghwa x Gn!reader

w: Hwa’s a simp, he literally worships you and the ground you walk on

Requested? no ma’am!

a/n: Seonghwa is my ult of all ults so i’ve definitely thought about this more than i probably should’ve

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

so sweet and caring, Seonghwa is incredibly observant from start to finish and is constantly checking in with you

he will do everything you want and more, takes a warm shower with you, helps you with skincare, makes sure you have cozy pajamas

nothing is ever missed on Hwa’s watch

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

obsessed with your eyes, he likes to watch your expressions anytime he goes down on you or while fucking into you

loves the way they squint shut or how your eyebrows furrow

on himself, he loves his tongue, we all knew this was gonna show up sooner or later

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Seonghwa is Ateez’s resident cum eater, sorry I said what I said , no take backs

whether it’s yours or his own it’s going to get messy

also loves to cum in you (we’ll come back to this later tho)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s been really wanting to explore more into role play, loves the idea of playing a character and would love to do that with you

specifically would like to play the role of a teacher

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Honestly I don’t think most idols are too experienced especially earlier in their career but that doesn’t mean he isn’t hopeless lmao

Seonghwa has had at least one long term partner and has had enough sex to know what he’s doing

There’s a learning process with hwa though, and it’s one of his favorite parts of your relationship, he loves doing new things together and exploring sex as a couple

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

loves a good ole missionary moment

as i said earlier he is obsessed with the face you make in reaction to him, so he likes positions where he can see your face

he’s also a big fan of you riding him

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not at all, in his head being goofy kinda ruins the moment for him

he’s slightly obsessed with making the moment perfect and gets upset when he can’t do that

just make sure to assure him with his efforts

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Prefers to go bare or freshly shaven, he thinks it’s the cleanest and definitely prefers to shave for you

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

HES SUCH A ROMANTIC OML

it’s almost sappy with how much effort he puts in

you love it so much though

i’m talking champagne, rose petals, slow music, a fancy dinner before hand

he’s going to make you feel so loved

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

not super often maybe once or twice a week?

he likes to give himself the challenge of waiting till you can help him

if he can’t though, I could see hwa calling you to help get him off, which is a convenient Segway into the next letter

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

loves sexting and phone sex, it truly feels like his own personal dirty secret

being able to text you, telling you how he wants you to take his cock all the while the members are sitting innocently next to him

also loves to take pictures and video of the two of you, he has a locked folder in his camera roll full of photos of you together, likes to go through them when he’s needy while on tour

I think we all know about the Hwa breeding kink agenda, loves the idea of filling you with his kids, even if you can’t get pregnant, he’s obsessed with the image of it, the possessiveness nature to his thoughts rule over him

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

the bedroom is always the number one place for him

but he also has major love for shower sex, not only does he love being so close to you but he also likes the easy clean up

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

literally just you, you could innocently kiss him and he could pop a boner

hwa just loves you and loves the effect you have on him

he loves how attractor find him

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Like San, he isn’t much into pain play, definitely isn’t opposed to spanking you, especially if he’s playing a more domineering role but he isn’t going to go to far with it

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

LOVES GIVING

going back to letter C he loves the taste of you, no matter what you may say

he’s literally obsessed with going down on you, he craves for it, he wants you at all times

sometimes it shocks you how much he enjoys giving

cant say he doesn’t love when you give him head though

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Def a slow and sensual guy, loves taking his time with you and is going to make sure you cum a couple times before he does

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

no

like i said just before, he loves to take his time winding you up with his fingers and tongue

how is he going to do just that when you guys only have 15 minutes

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He loves to explore with you, being able to experience things together is one of his favorite things to do

that being said he’s not the biggest fan of being caught, he knows the members would never let him hear the end of it

he also hates anyone seeing you in that type of position

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He knows he can only cum once in a round so he takes his time to pull a few out of you before hand

So one round, maybe two if you take enough time between them

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Loves using toys together, is obsessed with watching how much a vibrator can affect your body

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he teases a little bit but Seonghwa will give you anything you want if you ask for it

you have to ask for it though, a big fan of asking you to use your words

“use your words precious, tell me how you want me.”

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

definitely moans, they’re so pretty too

especially when you give him head

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

loves when you act innocent for him, if you’re truly inexperienced he loves the idea of being your first and showing you the world of pleasure

on the other hand, even if you aren’t inexperienced, he would love if you played it up for him, goes into his role playing fantasy

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s definitely one of the bigger members of ateez

Probably like 6 1/2” maybe 7”

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He would prefer to have sex 4 times a week if he can

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not quick at all, he’s going to make sure you’re cared for before he even thinks of shutting his eyes

[hockeyboysimagines]

Hello! I saw you're taking requests. Could you please write swayman x Reader with an angsty drabble using prompt

14."It's not what you think it is."?

Thank you!!!

My first Sway request! Thanks Nonny!

Enjoy🤍

He was definitely cheating.

You swiped at a tear and leaned back on your bed.

At first you gaslit yourself into thinking it was your paranoia talking. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d jumped to assumptions and ruined a good thing so you tried to control it. You talked yourself down every time you got suspicious and insisted to your brain you were looking at things the wrong way.

In the past, a complete meltdown and a fight would have been the first thing to happen. But those guys had been different. You wanted to be careful with Jeremy so you kept it to yourself, and for a while it had worked. But your resolve was crumbling and cracking a little bit each day.

The signs were all there.

In the last few months he’d taken a number of phone calls that he left the room for. At first you thought maybe it was just a private conversation. But by now the private conversations had started to happen sometimes twice a day.

Random changing and cancelling of plans. Once or twice wasn’t enough to raise any alarms. Things happened right?

But the final straw was when you were sitting in your favorite dress waiting for him only for him to call and try and move your date to later on, and then deciding to cancel it all together.

And then there was the email you saw. Purely an accident. You might have been paranoid but you weren’t intrusive enough to search through his phone. But when it dinged while he was showering you leaned to look at the screen and saw an email from someone named Sarah you wanted to rip the curtain open and confront him right there.

But what really sent you over the edge was the phone call. This time you’d been snooping but you wish you hadn’t because you investigated so hard you hurt your own feelings. You’d let yourself into his apartment unannounced which had never been a problem, and you had a key for that exact thing and he mustn’t have heard you. You however could hear him on the phone in his room so you quietly made you way and caught the end of a phone call you were probably not supposed to hear.

“She’s gonna be here soon so I can’t talk long.”

You felt your heart slide into your stomach as whoever it was on the other line answered and he responded “No she has no idea, and I wanna keep it that way for now at least. She’ll find out eventually and then we’ll go from there.”

A tear ran down your cheek as he continued “No I can’t do that time. If I cancel plans with her again she’ll start to get suspicious, and then everything will get all messed up. How about Friday? She works in the afternoon so I’ll be free. Sound good? Okay great. See you soon. Bye.” He hung up and tossed down the phone.

Now you’d had enough. With a loud bang you threw open the door so hard it hit the wall and he jumped, whipping around.

“What the f-“

“Free for what?”

He frowned “What?”

“Free. For. WHAT?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about?”

You scoffed and pointed at the phone “What are you free for while I work in the afternoon? Some girl? Hmm?”

His went slack jawed and held up his hands “No I-“

“Save it. I KNEW it. I knew you were cheating on me. I’ve known for a long time, so spare me the denial I don’t want to hear it. Just tell me the truth.”

He shook his head and reached for you but you took a step back “It's not what you think it is."

“Oh yeah? Then explain to me what it is. You have 5 seconds.”

He loved to his beside table and opened the door, pulling a blue folder from it and sat down on the bed patting the space next to him “Come here.” He opened it and slid it to you “I’m not cheating on you, I’m doing this.” You looked at him confused as he continued “A vacation. A trip this summer for your birthday.”

You felt so dumb as you looked at the contents of the folder. Plane tickets, passport information, room number and excursion details. A surprise vacation that looked like he’d been working on for a while. You felt terrible.

“Jeremy I-I’m so sorry.”

Be he was smiling “Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry for making you feel that way, I just wanted it to be a surprise is all. Guess I’m not very good at keeping secrets huh?”

“I shouldn’t have accused you.” He looked at your lap but he reached under your chin to pull up your head and look you in the eyes “It’s okay really. But next time just talk to me about it okay? I would never cheat on you. Now.” He handed you the booklet with a smile “Pick some things for us to do.”

[crownedtargaryen]

cruel summer. - modern!jacaerys

Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3 ; Part 4 pairing: modern!jacaerys x modern!stark reader (a/n): I’m going to preface this by saying this part is mostly filler to establish their dynamic and how the story will go for a while. this story i made while listening to cruel summer - taylor swift and i’m not sure how to feel about it. also, thank you @daenerysapologist for giving me the idea of hockey player Jace. I love it. rating: NSFW 18+, this chapter doesn’t have anything NSFW though. prns: she/her all notes are appreciated. words: 1k tag list: @hopelesswritergall @twizzy123 @howyouloveyourdragon @fairysluna

It's been a long few years here at Iron High, learning to adapt to the new social norms that change almost every week, trying to remember who's on top and who isn't when it comes to popularity, and of course… Tutoring the Iron High hockey captain, Jacaerys Velaryon.

I look at him as he leans back in his chair and looks up at the ceiling. It's been weeks and I swear I've heard the same jokes a million times from him. And the most frustrating part is? He laughed at himself. He finds HIMSELF hilarious! If that doesn't scream self-centered jock, I'm not sure what does. He must think he's the funniest son of a bitch at this school. He has beautiful brown hair and curious brown eyes that remind me of beautifully crafted bark on trees.

"Hey, Stark! Are you listening? Did you get the joke?" I hear him say breaking my thoughts. I stare at him, narrowing my eyes. Maybe his eyes remind me of dog shit instead.

"How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not here to listen to your jokes, I'm here to teach you High Velaryon. Now, can we focus? If you fail this class, you know the repercussions," I remind him. He's only tutoring with me because he needs at least a C to pass, and currently, he's failing. If he doesn't pass, no hockey for him. His whole social life and reputation down the drain faster than it started. He frowns for a moment before leaning forward, smiling that cheeky and flirtatious smile he always does. This is when he's about to say something extremely obnoxious or excruciatingly unnecessary to the conversation.

"What do you call an alligator detective?" He smirks, and I stare back. You know what? I'm not giving him this one.

"An investi-gator. You're not clever. Can we just work on the assignment now?" I groan, watching his eyes widen.

"What?! You can't steal my joke!" He sits back, being playfully offended. I raise a brow as he acts like a drama queen. I can't help but smile. A small laugh escapes me. As he looks into my eyes, his eyes widen. There's something in his gaze that I can't place, a shimmer in his eye that wasn't there previously. His staring before speaking makes me uncomfortable."You just laughed!" He seemed excited, placing his hands on the table and standing up, knocking his chair over. "Holy shit you laughed!" He seems like he's just won the lottery. I furrow my brows.

Denial is now my best friend. "No, I didn't," I say casually, continuing my work. He glares at me. I can feel it on my head. "I think you're going crazy, maybe we should call this tutoring session early." I look up at him, closing my book and putting my papers in my folder. He opens his mouth to speak, but I softly shush him and touch his lips. "Shh, it's alright. The stress is getting to you. You're imagining things. It's for the best. I know, I know. You'll miss me so much." I put my things in my bag, throw it over my shoulder, and push in my chair. I watched him pick up the chair that he'd knocked over. I turn to leave but hear him speak, in a tone I've never heard before. It seemed eager and desperate.

"Y/N, can I give you a ride home?" Jace suddenly asked. When I examined his features, he still looked awestruck and almost pleading. I sigh, hating that I'm giving into his pitiful look.

"Fine. But you have to listen during the next tutoring session. Deal?" I turn around and watch as his expression glows with pure excitement. I feel a smile grow on my face, which I cover with a cough. He quickly agrees and rushes over, offering me his hand. I look at him like he's stupid, moving my palm to his shoulder and pushing him forward to lead me to his car.

I sit in the passenger side of his vehicle, a sense of regret washing over me as he starts his car and pulls out his phone. I expect some rap, some SoundCloud-level shit, and maybe even something he's made himself. What he puts on surprises me.

"Are you in a romantic mood?" I ask, raising a brow. He gives me a cheeky smile and turns up the song without another word. I can't help the grin that comes to my face as he proceeds to scream the words to a song that I'd never expected to come out of his mouth. "Kiss me once 'cause you know I had a long night, kiss me twice 'cause it's gonna be alright," he says, looking over at me and grinning like an idiot. I laughed, grabbing my phone and recording him, seeing if he falters in shame. He doesn't, he stays strong. "Three times 'cause I've waited my whole life! ONE, TWO, ONE TWO THREE FOUR! I like shiny things but I'd marry you paper rings! Uhuh!" He looks at me as he grips the wheel, urging me to sing along. The only thing I can do is laugh as he gets stronger than ever. Jacaerys Velaryon is the last person I'd expect to see singing Paper Rings by Taylor Swift, but I can't say I'm upset. The entire way home he sings his heart out, the windows rolled down. The regret I'd felt previously has now disappeared as I enjoy my time with him. Maybe he isn't TOO bad.

As we ride up to my house, I feel myself growing disappointed that the time has come to an end, but I make sure not to show it. "Thanks for the ride, I appreciate it," I say softly, getting out of his car. He nods and then waves before honking his horn when I'm at my door. I turn around after my soul jumps out of my skin, glaring at him. He laughed but yells at me.

"Text me! We should go out somewhere!" He shouts, winking and driving off before I can protest.

Stupid Jace.

I then turn to my door, grinning from ear to ear, and walk inside.

[spiderlandry]

congrats!!!! i was wondering if you could do a childhood friends to lovers drabble with ethan landry?

thank u anon!! i Love childhood friends to lovers (i already have one for ethan in my wips, so i ended up making this one a little different, but my wip sounds like something you’d be into so stick around for when i release that soon!)

used a jack gif because i am running out of cute ethan ones 😧 this turned out way longer than expected sorry omfg

100 follower event

warnings/tags: mostly just fluff w ethan 😮‍💨 ghostface not mentioned, one use of y/n, mentions of dieting (by ethan b/c he’s going to the gym), insecurities

off the table — ethan landry

“Ethan, look at the camera!”

He stares at his phone, watching through the ‘movies’ you used to film at his house when you were younger. Your voice sounds squeaky, matching his at the time. The video is blurry, but he can see his own goofy pose through the pixels as you turn the camera to him, and then here comes his favourite part, when you turn the camcorder and set it on the coffee table and he can see you and him sitting on the floor of his family living room.

“Introduce yourself, come on!”

“Ethan?” A knock on his bedroom door forces him to shut off his device and hug it to his chest, leaning back against his headboard.

“Yeah?” He responds to the all-too familiar voice, you, on the other side of the wood, opening the door.

“Um—“ You squint your eyes at him, as if you’d heard the sounds coming from his phone. Shit, did you hear? “You have any plans tonight?” You don’t mention the way he’s visibly relieved when you ask.

“No, why?” He’s back at ease with you again, pushing back the thoughts of a future with you to the back of his mind.

“Dinner?”

“I want wings,” He confesses.

You chuckle at his admission, knowing he’d been dieting because he began regularly going to the gym with Chad. (Which, honestly, was a treat to your eyes—but he’d never know.)

“I’ll get wings.” You pull out your phone to order, then adding, “I won’t tell Chad.” Before you leave and close the door.

He runs his hands down his face. Why did he think becoming roommates with you was a good idea? Oh, right, because you promised each other when you were kids.

It’s not the fact that you’re roommates. It’s that you’re just roommates, at least at this moment. But you’re also each other’s best friend since childhood—a connection that neither of you plan to change.

He watches through the video folder he has, titled, ‘y/n and ethan’ consisting of the videos you two filmed with a shitty camcorder at his dad’s house.

It was a time capsule of sorts—the videos progressed and the two of you grew up—but as time passed, the entries became less frequent. The last time was before you both separated for the first two years of college, when you went to study abroad. But you came back, reminded him of the promises you both made; telling him ‘the offer is still on the table.’ and he ended up moving in with you as per the plans you made as children.

This year of living together has been like if nothing ever changed, like you never went anywhere else, never spent two years apart from him. Though, there are flashes of uncertainty. Cracks in your demeanor that leaves him wondering if he truly knows you still.

Each moment where you mention someone in your life he doesn't know, he feels a sting. And on top of that, he feels guilt. How can he stay in your life keeping this secret from you? It eats at him.

He's in love with you. There's no denying that. The problem lies in how long he can hold it in, out of fear of ruining what he has with you. But knowing you, you would probably reject him so nicely that he wouldn't notice. There is no chance you'd feel the same, he thinks.

You both eat wings on the couch, watching your favorite movie. Neither of you care about the close distance, shoulders touching and hands brushing against each other when the movie ends and you begin to cleanup.

In the kitchen disposing of trash, you lean against a counter while he gets busy tidying up the kitchen. He can feel your stare on him, burning.

"Are you just gonna stand there?" He laughs, but there's a waiver in his voice that is hard to miss.

"Were you watching the videos of us? You know. Earlier."

His heart pounds in his ears. "Yeah. Why?" He doesn't see a point in lying anymore.

You sigh, "I miss you too, you know."

His head snaps up to meet yours, a longing gaze in your eyes.

That's when he realizes that you've stepped closer, your warmth practically radiating off your figure. His mind blanks.

"I feel like I've been..." You pause to think, "I don't know. Distant?"

Between the two of you, you were always the more honest one. A trait he admires, a reason to look up to you. You never shy away from a conversation when it's needed.

Ethan's mind jumps to a worst case scenario. Multiple, actually. Why are you telling him this? You're about to break bad news to him, aren't you?

Reading the uncertainty in his eyes, you continue.

"Something's changed." You shrug, looking to him for an answer.

"No, why--why would you say that?"

"I'm sorry, E."

His brows furrow. Now he's even more confused.

"I feel like I don't know how to fucking act around you anymore."

Woah. Now where did that come from?

His shoulders slump at the mere though of you not wanting to be around him. Did he do something wrong? Are you uncomfortable?

You mumble something inaudible.

"What?" He whispers, almost breathless.

"IthinkI'minlovewithyou."

He's certain his heart stopped beating. He needs to get his ears checked, surely.

"Can--can you say that again?"

You stare at him through your lashes, a frown forming on your lips. He wants nothing more than to wipe it off you, but first he needs to make sure he heard you correctly.

"I'm in love with you." You stop looking at his eyes, unable to face him. "And I'm sorr--"

He engulfs you in a hug before you can finish.

"Don't ever be sorry," He tightens his hold, and you reciprocate. "I thought--I didn't think you'd ever feel the same."

He can physically feel you relaxing.

"You're an ass."

That gets a laugh out of him. "Why?"

"You made me say it again."

"You know what? I'll make you a deal."

"Yeah? Is it a good deal? Don't try to scam me."

He smiles, though you can't see it because your eyes are closed, too focused on the feeling of his arms around you. "I'll tell you how much I love you for as long as you want."

"Give me a timeframe."

"For the rest of our lives, hm? Deal?"

"Deal."

[brummiereader]

PREVIOUS PART

A Ghost Of A Man (PART FOUR)

Summary: With the folder she found at the antique fair, the reader goes to see Tommy once again. Will he open up about what happened the night he died?

Warnings: Language, supernatural themes

It had been a few hours since you arrived back home. Sitting on the sofa daydreaming, the TV on in the background you had the folder you found a few days ago on your lap, when all of a sudden the front door swung open.

" Fuck! Louise you scared me" you said as the folder fell to the ground.

" Hello to you too, you didn't text me by the way"

"I'm sorry, shit I've been such a crappy friend these past few days" you apologised as you started picking up the folder and it's contents, balancing your other hand in the air.

"What the hell is that?" she said as she noticed a tea bag resting precariously on your hand.

"Oh, it's just this chamomile thing for the pain" you said, oblivious to how ridiculous you looked.

"A chamomile tea bag" she laughed raising her hands in the air then dramatically slapping both her thighs with them " You know what? I'm not even gonna ask where you got this idea from" she said uncontrollably laughing.

" Alright, alright.." you replied not being able to hold back a laugh. " I was told it was good for injuries" you added as you adjusted the tea bags position.

Still laughing she sat down beside you " How is it anyway?" She asked as she nodded towards your hand.

" It's fine just need to rest it"

" Didn't go get it checked out did you?" She said with a huff. "Thought you said you were no longer using them" she added pointing to the folder in your hand.

" I'm not, just thought I'd read through it all again"

" So... what is it about this Tommy Shelby that has got my friend so captivated?" She asked moving closer to you to look at the folder.

" I'm not captivated" you said rolling your eyes fidgeting slightly. " I don't know... I just think there's more to him. Yes he was dangerous and menacing, but there's something else...I don't think he was solely a bad man".

" Not many people a purely evil, I'm sure there was good in him too" she said with a small smile, seeing that you was quite taken by this mysterious man. " Do you have a picture of him?

" Erh yeh, I do actually" you answered looking through the papers as you pulled out the picture the old lady gave you.

" Which one's Thomas Shelby?"

" That's him" you replied as you pointed to him on the old black and white picture.

" Ahh so that's why you're so captivated" She giggled nudging your arm with hers. " He may have been a dangerous man, but my god...was he hot" she said as she took the picture from you. "Mr moustache is pretty fine too" she giggled again.

Laughing you looked at the picture with her. He was good-looking, no one could deny that. He looked the same as he did in the picture, piercing eyes, sharp jaw, muscular build, impeccable sense of style. Only his complexion was different, a stark reminder of what he was now. Was he still the same man as the one in the picture you wondered, or had the years made him too bitter and angry. What if you could help him, help him change his fate, give him a second chance. Would you do that for a man as dangerous as Tommy Shelby?

The next day you decided to ditch going to Uni altogether. You planned to go back to the building back to Tommy once again. Standing In front of the mirror you pulled on your long black coat, you had actually made an effort today. Now free of its bandages and feeling far less sore, your hand seemed to be healing quickly. With the folder on Thomas and the Peaky Blinders under your arm you walked out the front door and headed for the bus stop.

Walking up the old wooden stairs for the third time, you noticed Tommy sitting on one of the secretary desks facing the large window that looked out onto the street below.

"Back so soon?" He said turning to face you.

Feeling slightly embarrassed that you had returned so quickly, you stayed near the staircase closing your open coat around you.

" I can leave if you want?" You said in quiet voice as you started to feel self-conscious at your choice of clothing, his evident glare looking at you from head to toe.

" What's that ?" He said pointing to the folder under your arm ignoring your question, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he watched your restlessness.

" Oh, yes, It's Mr Campbell's folder" you replied slowly making your way closer to him

" Hmm" he nodded as you was now right beside him.

" Thought you would like to see it" you said as you placed it on the table beside him.

Tommy reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a cigarette from a silver case, placing it between his lips then lighting it, all the time not losing eye contact with you once. Why did he stare so much you wondered as you tried to avoid his challenging glare, was he trying to scare you off again? Still sitting on the edge of the desk now with the lit cigarette loosely resting between his lips he turned to look at the folder beside him, opening it his fingers traced over the various documents. A little overly enthusiastically you pulled out the photo of him and his family from within the folder, moving his hand out the way. His cold fingers felt polar opposite to your warm hands and with that Tommy pulled his hand away from yours swallowing harshly as he stretched out his fingers from your touch. It had been so long since he had felt the now unfamiliar warm heat of a woman, the softness of the skin, like silk under his fingers. Watching his reaction you stepped back, uncertainty in your eyes. But then Tommy picked up the picture of his family, glancing up at you he gave you a faint smile.

" I remember having this picture taken" he said reminiscing. " Took four goes until everyone stopped fucking arguing" he slightly chuckled as he watched you smile at his memory.

" Who was Mr Campbell?" You asked looking up at him from the picture.

" Chief Inspector Chester Campbell" he replied correcting you as he walked away from the desk taking a drag of his cigarette. "He was hired by Winston Churchill to recover a missing consignment of guns from the BSA factory" he added clearing his throat.

"Missing?" You said with a small smile. "Why did he have a folder on you and your family?"

" I think you know why miss Y/L/N" he replied as he cocked an eyebrow.

" What really happened that night you died" you asked overly confident.

Huffing Tommy strided over to you " You ask a lot of question you know that? And I rarely answer questions. You know everything about me and yet I know so little about you"

" Do you want to know about me?" You asked slightly embarrassed by your bombardment of questions.

Taking a drag of his cigarette leaning against the wall he gestured with his hand for you to talk. He did want to know more about you. Who was this young girl that had suddenly entered his world like a freight train coming at full speed, he was more than intrigued by you.

" Well... You already know my name". You said standing up from sitting on the edge of the desk. " I'm in my mid 20s, i'm a student at the University of Birmingham studying history. I live in Sparkhill with my roommate in this old converted attic. My family are from the area. I moved to the city a year ago, I work at the Sparkhill library. I like the history of this city...i erh I like to collect antiques" you said like you was reciting a checklist.

Tommy watched on with amusement as you paced arms folded with a flustered face back and forth in front of him, trying to think of something even a little more interesting to say.

"That's it" you said coming to a stop In front of him, your eyes avoiding his out of embarrassment.

" It's that why you like busying yourself in other people's history, because your life is so mundane" He said with a cocky smirk.

" Fuck" you sighed quietly turning your face away from him, your eyes welling up as you shook your head in disbelief at his brutal remark and the realisation that it was true. You had always thrown yourself into the history of other people's lives, so much so that you had forgotten to live your own life and make your own history, the realisation was uncomfortable.

Not intending you to take it that way, Tommy walked over to you turning your chin with his thumb to face him, you flinched at his coldness but he kept his thumb in place.

" I was only teasing" he said lowering his head trying to get you to look at him " Maybe you just need a bit of excitement, eh?" He said as he brushed a lone tear away with his thumb.

" Maybe" you sniffled as you gazed into his eyes. They were the bluest eyes you had ever seen and you found yourself getting lost in them, pulling yourself away from your daydreaming you looked down at the floor.

" I was heading to my car" he said letting go of your chin. " Sabini and his men jumped me, beat me within an inch of my life" he added as his eyes glazed over, no emotion omitting from his body. Had he become so accustomed to that life you wondered as you watched him talk like he had recounted this story a thousand times.

" How did you get back to your office?"

" I barely did" he said as he turned his head and looked at you. "I was trying to get back to phone my brother...i think you know the rest" he added as he took a long drag of his cigarette, straightening his posture out.

You remembered the article and the old ladies words. Tommy was found dead slouched in his office chair, he was too weak, barely alive. He never made that call in time.

" You get to go back, each year...to try and change the outcome though? You asked him, a hint of hope in your eyes for him.

"Now how do you know that?" He said as he tilted his head narrowing his eyes at you.

" The old lady on Watery Lane" you replied apprehensively, like you was not supposed to be entrusted with this knowledge.

He scoffed shaking his head in disbelief as he made his way back over to sit on the old secretary desk.

" She talks too much that one" he said as he went to light another cigarette. You watched him as he lit the match once again, the small glow of the flame warming his face for a brief moment. You found yourself unknowingly staring at him once again. Shit, was your friend right? Were you captivated by him.

Tommy however noticed your staring, a cocky smile formed on his mouth as his lit cigarette burned between his lips.

"Y/L/N" he said aloud pulling you from whatever daydream you had entered this time.

"What?" You answered flustered, cheeks now an embarrassing shade of red.

"Y/L/N" he replied once more. " You wouldn't happen to be related to the Y/L/N's that live just outside of north Birmingham, would you?"

" There's lots of Y/L/N that live around Birmingham" You said looking at him as his eyes sparked with mischievousness.

"I know everyone in and outside of the city love, and your last name I have only heard a few times" He said shaking his finger at you. " Mill Street, no?"

Oh fuck, it had never occurred to you that he might have known your ancestors. What was he going to do, go back and have them offed for their great granddaughters incessant nosiness into the life of Birmingham's most dangerous Gangster.

" It must be another Y/L/N family, mine only moved to Birmingham recently" you lied through your teeth.

Getting up from the desk his hands in his pockets, he walked over to the other side of the room all the time watching you with a smirk on his face. He knew you was lying. You wasn't exactly very good at it, fidgeting hands, eyes down to the floor cheeks crimson red. He found it almost endearing, watching you stumble out a lie to protect your family. From what he remembered your family were good people, your great grandfather a respected man and a force to be reckoned with, not that different from himself, but nonetheless hardworking and honest.

"Don't worry love, I'm not going to go back and have them killed" he said like he was reading your mind.

" I wasn't thinking that" you replied as confidently as you could only to be betrayed by your restless hands once more. "...I need to get going" you added looking at him as he nodded to you.

Walking over to the desk you started putting all the various newspaper clippings, documents and papers back in the folder.

"Leave the photo" he said as he watched you.

Nodding, you started heading for the stairs until Tommy's hand caught you by your hip.

"Will you come back?" He asked turning his head to face you as he looked down into your eyes, his hand still on your waist.

"Yes" you nodded smiling to him as he smiled back. Now at the top of the stairs you turned around to face him.

"Bye Tommy"

"Goodbye Y/N"

NEXT PART

Tag list: @theshelbyclan

[littlepolinlover]

I’ve had this idea sitting in my folder for months now. It was originally for something else and I could never manage to make it work. And then I kept thinking about it— how I loved the idea of the story and the scenes started coming together in my head and in my dreams.

I’m excited to one day finally make the months of thoughts come together, but for now— I have this.

One day, it’ll be posted for all to read, in full, but today is not that day.

Prologue:

Penelope Bridgerton nee Featherington sat at her kitchen table, divorce papers sitting in front of her. God, she never expected any of this to happen, but here she was. Twenty-three and getting divorced. Two kids with a man she still loved, and yet the papers still stared up at her. She looked up at Colin as she dropped her pen down to sign her name, but he reached over to stop her.

“What?” She looked up at him, ocean meeting ocean, and it broke her to see the confliction in his eyes. Though he tried to hide the pain from her, she could still see it– that happens when you’ve been so close to someone for so long. She’s known him over half her life, and she knows a broken man when she sees one.

Neither of them wanted this, but they just couldn’t make it work. Not after everything that happened between them. Love only gets one so far.

“I need a favour.”

“What kind of favour could I do for you? Why would I do a favour for you? We’re not together anymore– my kindness only goes so far these days.” She pointed out, despite how much her heart ached as she spoke the words. He let out a harsh laugh– and she already knew his thoughts on the matter. He didn’t want to quit them. She did it. She filed the papers. Not him.

“Obviously, darling,” He licks his lips as she stands, his hands placed on the table. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I need you one last time.”

She sat there, her jaw basically on the floor, as he explained that he hadn’t told his Mama that they were having marital problems. Nor that they have been living in separate bedrooms for the last six months, or that she had filed for divorce.

Apparently Eloise has gotten engaged and Violet is throwing a party, and has invited the entire family to Aubrey Hall for the week leading up to the event, and it’s expected for all spouses, partners, and children to attend.

That’s how she found herself faking that their relationship wasn’t broken, or that they were completely still smitten and in love, despite the unsigned divorce papers sitting in the top drawer of their office.

That week was going to be the utilmate test of her acting abilities. Because how hard was it going to be to fake something that was still undoubtedly true?

[storiesofsvu]

Christmas Admirer

Elizabeth Donnelly x reader warnings: language, argument, minor stalking. Look! I did a thing! Thank you for the ko-fi and the request!! I hope this lives up to expectations lol. Covers the "fight before xmas" square for bingo. I'm slowly getting back into it y'all! I wanted to get a lot more done for bingo but I hate to admit I don't think I'm gonna get much done, which sucks. I still have the creative spurts but I think I'm so wrapped up in NCIS that other characters have fallen down the list lol. I'll do my best to get the more developed ideas out for bingo! Love y'all!

The first time it happened, you didn’t think a thing about it. Liz always had new staff in the early fall, clerks, paralegals, assistants, secretaries, baby prosecutors that you hadn’t met yet. Those who had graduated college and wanted some on the job experience before law school, those who had graduated law school and were killing time before being able to write the Bar. There was never a shortage of strange faces around Hogan Place, so you breezed through the halls with no worries, a handful of files tucked under your arm and two coffees balanced in your hand as you approached her office door.

“I wouldn’t!” The voice rang out from the desk situated outside of Liz’s office and you stalled in your steps, letting out a small laugh.

“I’m sure it’s fine. She’s expecting me.”

“That was probably before she found out Anderson lied about having a warrant.” The man winced slightly and you let out a sigh right before Liz’s voice boomed through the glass, clearly upset and about to tear Anderson a new one.

“Guess so.” You dropped down into a chair opposite the man’s desk, placing the coffees down on it, files on your lap as you tugged out your phone. “This the only headache she’s had to deal with today?”

“Aside from the damage control that’ll go along with it, I think so.”

“Great.” Your head tilted back as you let out a groan, there went your dinner plans.

You didn’t catch it, the way his eyes were lingering on you, examining the folders in your lap, recognizing them as legal ones, an NYPD logo stamped on the second one in the pile just peeking its way out. How he was putting together that you were in the legal field, but no badge or gun meant you weren’t a cop. How casual you were in the space meant you’d been here plenty of times before. His gaze dragged up your body, watching your hand reach out for your coffee cup, nearly frowning that you were using your right, your left hidden under the pile of files and he’d have to resort to a verbal tactic to figure out more.

“How long has Anderson been in there?” You asked, swallowing down your coffee.

“Oh, uh? Only a few minutes before you got here.” He replied, “I could always take a message Mrs…?”

You barked out a laugh, turning toward him with a grin on your face, “please, it’s Ms. Parker.” He stuck his hand out over his desk and you took it, shaking while he smiled.

“Thomas, it’s nice to meet you.”

Your eyes surveyed him for a minute, flicking around the room before you spoke, “you got a nice looking name plate,” you gestured to the desk, “you’ve either been here a while or you’re planning on it.”

“Hoping to be.” He shifted in his chair, sitting more upright, “figured this was the best way to save up for law school.” He laughed awkwardly, “not that I’m freshly graduated or anything, I just didn’t figure things out right away, you know?”

“I do.” You laughed, glancing back towards Liz’s door where you could barely hear Anderson stammering along as she continued to lecture him.

“She always this intense?”

“Depends.” You picked up your coffee, taking another swig, “but Anderson… he’s annoying. He’s one of those ones that has an excuse for literally everything and none of them are valid. He’ll never own up to his actions or accept the consequences and shit like that pisses her off even more. If this case sinks, he’s done for.”

A small pause in the conversation while you both tried to eavesdrop and ignore the argument on the other side of the office wall before he spoke again, “sounds like you’ve known Donnelly a while.”

“Five years, give or take.” You replied, picking up your coffee again.

Though it was the last two that were the most significant, a year of back and fourth flirtation whenever you ran into each other until Melinda practically dragged you to some gala she was forced to attend and one thing led to another and confessions of true feelings were whispered into the night. You’d never expected to fall in love with someone like Liz and you’d definitely never thought someone like her would fall in love with you, yet here you were.

“Bet you know all the best ways to make it into her good books.” Thomas practically teased and you laughed.

“Work hard, pay attention, be ready on your feet and up to date as you can be on any open or upcoming cases. She’s big on loyalty, don’t let her catch you fraternizing with the enemy or sweet talking other departments or firms. If you’re thinking about switching jobs, let her know up front and she’ll give you the glowing recommendation you deserve, but if you do it behind her back, your options will be limited. Don’t be a suck up, but on a really bad day, the shrimp scampi from Forlini’s is a life saver,” you were suddenly cut off as the door flew open and Anderson came scurrying by without bothering to stop and you glanced back to Thomas, “and her coffee order is an Americano or drip with two packets of sweetener.” You picked up the untouched coffee, placing it down directly in front of him as you stood from your seat, “but I have a feeling she doesn’t need any more adrenaline boosts today and you just might.” You shot him a wink before scooping up your own coffee and stepping towards Liz’s ajar door, knocking on the frame.

“What?” She snapped as you pushed it open, offering her a warm smile and she let out a sigh from where she sat behind her desk, “sorry.”

“No need.” You swung the door shut behind you, moving through the room.

“What’re you doing here?” She asked softly, hand reaching out to squeeze at yours as you perched on the side of her desk.

“Had lunch with Sophie.” You shrugged, dropping the pile of files into her inbox, “figured I’d save her the ten minute drive.”

“One of these days you’re going to remember you’re a writer and not my assistant.” She teased as you leant down to steal a kiss.

“Speaking of…” you glanced behind you to the closed door, “you’ve got a new one.”

“He’s competent so far.” She sighed, leaning back in her chair, “unlike fucking Anderson.” You laughed, squeezing at her shoulder.

“He’s been in the hotseat for nearly a year, it’s about time they let him go.” You frowned slightly, “but I am guessing this means our dinner plans are off?”

Liz let out a heavy sigh, pinching at the bridge of her nose as she muttered “this is why I hate this job sometimes.” She glanced up at you, “yes.” Taking both of your hands in hers she smiled at you, “but that doesn’t mean I won’t spoil you. You go home, I’ll send dinner to your place, dessert too, and probably another million little gifts.”

“Liz, you really don’t have to.” You giggled, leaning down to kiss her.

“No sweetheart, I really do. We made these plans a while ago and I know how much you were looking forward to them.”

“Alright,” you slid off her desk, “fine. I’ll accept delicious, free dinner and treats but you better send me a picture of your dinner too, even if it’s in your office. I need you to not forget to eat.”

“And you really think you don’t take care of me?” She grinned up at you and you giggled again when she pulled you back to her for another kiss, “thank you for understanding.”

“Always.” You smiled, “and hey, don’t be too hard on that kid out there, he doesn’t seem so bad.”

“As long as he’s not Anderson.” She replied with an eye roll and you pulled the door open with a laugh, shooting a wave and a smile to Thomas as you sped through the office, leaving the room fast enough that you missed the way he ducked his gaze and his cheeks flushed pink.

**

The second time it happened, you were none the wiser, more focussed on getting your daily tasks done through the first snowfall of the year.

“God it is freezing out there.” You grumbled, letting out a little shiver as you shook the snow off your shoulders, “hope you guys have the heat on.” You reached out, placing a coffee cup down on Thomas’ desk.

“Got a portable one under my desk.” He replied with a slightly bashful smile.

“Good.” You shot him a wink, wrapping your hands around your own coffee and letting out a warm sigh.

“If it’s that cold out you should really have gloves on.”

“I know.” You groaned, rolling your eyes, “my friend’s dog chewed through my last pair this weekend, haven’t gotten around to a shopping trip yet.”

“She doesn’t give you any time off?” He asked with a frown, nodding toward Liz’s door and you laughed.

“She’s not my boss.” You tugged around in your purse for a moment, pulling out a business card, “I write kid’s books… well, primarily. I’ve been known to dabble into true crime too.”

He took the card from you, studying it for a minute before looking back up at you, “oh, that’s really cool. And… wildly different departments.”

You laughed, smiling softly at Thomas, “yeah, I guess they balance each other out well enough. Gotta splash some colour in that drab, cruel world, ya know?”

“Yeah.” He twirled the card around in his fingers, placing it down next to his cup of pens, “I’d love to pick your brain about it.”

“Really?” Your smile widened, taken aback by someone showing genuine interest into what you spent your time doing.

“Yeah. I’ll even buy you a drink, or a coffee, for your time? Tonight?”

“I can’t tonight.” Your nose scrunched and Thomas thought it was the cutest thing he’d seen all month, “got a thing. Friday?”

“Yeah, yeah! That’s perfect.”

“Well,” grinning, you gestured toward the card, “you’ve got my number.”

You scooped up your coffee, briefly knocking on Liz’s door before entering her office, letting the door swing shut behind you as you crossed the room.

“You’re late.” She chastised, half teasing while you leant over to kiss her cheek, your hand resting just past the collar of her shirt and she winced, “and your hands are freezing! What did I tell you about buying new gloves?”

“I’ll get around to it.” You rolled your eyes, laughing softly, “and how am I late if all I’m doing is playing errand boy for you?”

“Cleaners’ only open until three today.” She replied with a shrug pulling a claim ticket out of her desk and passing it to you.

“Good thing it’s only one then.” You replied with a grin, swiping the tag from her and popping it into your purse. “Your dress will be in one piece and ready to go at my place once you’re done here. You’ll have just enough time to go over your speech before we head out.”

“You’re a life saver.” She tugged you back to her to steal a kiss, wincing again at the temperature of your fingers. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

You got home with Liz’s dry cleaning over your arm and take out in your other (still bare) hand to find a gift bag sitting outside of your apartment door. You managed to scoop it up and once you got inside you discovered two pairs of very warm, cozy and luxurious gloves inside. A smile crept onto your cheeks and your body relaxed with warmth at the thought of Liz thinking of you on an already crammed busy day.

**

The third time you were slowly starting to pick up on it but brushed it off as friendliness. Thomas had agreed to buy you a drink to pick your brain over your work and you were more than excited to have someone who wasn’t your agent or publisher to talk to about the creative thoughts flying through your brain. You spent more than a few hours at a small table in the corner of a bar picking over appetizers and a few cocktails while you got to know each other a bit more. Thomas was new to town, spent the majority of his time working and thus didn’t really have a lot of friends in the city yet. You tried to pay for your half of the tab but he insisted it was his treat and you weren’t about to complain. When he offered to walk you home you figured he was just being friendly, cautious as a man should be about letting their companion go on alone at night in New York. You didn’t have to argue too much as you already had a car coming and assured that you would text once you were home safe.

**

The fourth time things started to happen you were so wrapped up in the holiday season you wouldn’t have noticed even if you had been looking for it. All of your shopping was done online to avoid crowded stores, there were small piles of packages outside your door daily, more Christmas cards than you could count flowing through your mail box. An array of little gifts from Liz, some signed with her initials, some wrapped with a ‘do not open until Christmas’ warnings, others bare in their Amazon boxes. Some were shipped, some were dropped off and it seemed to change every week.

Flowers, chocolates and candy were frequently left at your work desk, a treat for the entire office, trinkets from fans or avid readers, it was just what happened this time of year. It didn’t matter if it didn’t have a card, it was just a little boost to get through the cold snap and into the new year.

Figuring you should get a start on wrapping the gifts you were giving you started to sort through the boxes littered underneath the tree, finding a surprising amount of things that had been on your public wish list. You were stuck in an internal battle between setting a reminder to thank Liz in the morning or not mention anything considering they were likely supposed to be Christmas gifts and you eventually decided on the latter.

Just as you were finishing up, putting the final bow on the final present there was a knock at your door and you were surprised with dinner from your favourite place. You were a little taken a back with this one, considering it was one of the pricier places you really adored, but hey, it was Christmas time, Liz was working late and cancelled a date night, you weren’t going to complain about a pricey apology.

**

The fifth time it happened Thomas had been away from his desk when you arrived, you figured he was already gone for the night and headed straight to Liz’s office. That was where you discovered that she was having the utter day from hell, more than one prosecutor getting served thanks to playing out of line during their current cases. Meaning she now had to comb through both of their cases from start to where they were currently to find any violations, possibly take them over herself and help them find the appropriate counsel for the suits being filed.

She apologized profusely, promising that she would make it up to you later that weekend and you simply smiled, nodding gently and pressing a kiss to her cheek. You’d known what level of workload she had when you started dating and you reminded her that you knew this wasn’t exactly work from home over a glass of wine type of work. Reluctantly, you finally left her office, quietly shutting the door on your way out before your eyes flicked up and you spotted Thomas back at his desk beginning to pack things up.

��Figured you’d left already.” You greeted with a small smile.

“Oh, just a few last minute things she needed me to take over. Done now.” His eyes slowly raked up your body, taking in the heels, form fitting dress, jewelry and curled hair and he gulped, “you look… nice.”

“Thanks.” You huffed out a laugh, “dinner plans.”

“You didn’t get roped into this somehow, did you?” He asked, gesturing towards Liz’s office.

“Oh no.” You shook your head, pulling your phone out of your pocket when it pinged to read the text message and let out another sigh, “but my date did cancel on me.”

“Really? It’s practically Christmas.”

“Meh, happens.” You shrugged, pocketing your phone again.

“You know… I was just on my way out; my plan was leftover pizza. If you maybe wanted some company, we could grab a bite?” He offered and you hummed over it for a moment.

“You sure?”

“’Course.”

“That’d honestly be really nice, I’ve been cooped up alone in my home office all week and was looking forward to the company.” You glanced up to him, “but I’m paying this time!”

“Not after you got stood up.” He chuckled and you let out a small laugh.

“I had reservations at Trattoria Dell’Arte, it’s not exactly cheap. Let me get it.”

“Only if I take care of the drinks.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

You likely would have noticed that he was flirting, not just being friendly if you hadn’t been so preoccupied up in your head. Between both of your jobs you and Liz hadn’t managed to see that much of each other recently and you were beginning to second guess yourself, thinking that she was simply just too tired to want to bother seeing you after a long week. That the extra work was a welcomed excuse to have to take a rain check yet again.

Instead you played nice, laughed at most of his jokes and contributed the best you could over dinner. Spending time with him wasn’t bad, he was decent enough company you didn’t mind it, you just would have preferred your girlfriend. He did try to snag the dinner bill but you were quicker, taking care of it on the way back from the restroom, leaving him with the agreed upon bottle of wine to settle up.

He once again offered to walk you home, or at least split a cab and you agreed on the latter considering it was a chillier night and you didn’t want either of you to get caught out in the snow. The heavier the incoming storm got, the fewer cabs there would be out on the streets, so it didn’t even cross your mind. You thought nothing of the rose he presented to you after you flagged down the cab considering the street peddler was pushy, the assertive in your face type that wouldn’t take no for an answer until you’d agreed to buy something from them. You’d even both laughed about it on the way home, talking about how guys like that used to target tourists more than the locals and when you reached your apartment you thanked him for the fun evening and hoped he had a great rest of his weekend.

With your back turned you missed the way his eyes followed you all the way up to the entrance to your building, a small smile on his cheeks as the fantasies began to play through his head, some of which were already playing out in real life right in front of him.

**

Stepping out of the cab you cautiously jogged up the stairs to Liz’s brownstone, careful to avoid the ice in your heels, coat open and flowing behind you as you briefly stopped to ring the bell before letting yourself in.

“I’ll be five minutes!” Her voice rang through from her upstairs office, “make yourself a drink.”

“Okay.” You called back, wiping off your shoes and shrugging off your coat to be hung on one of the hallway hooks.

Liz’s house was no stranger to you, it was your home away from home, a place you spent many weekends curled in her arms on the couch or tangled in her bedsheets as the sun crept in through the curtains. It felt homier that your apartment, the place you often opted to work from home when you needed to, the long days that she worked that you missed her, wanted to still feel surrounded by her even if she didn’t come home until long after you were asleep.

You crossed the living room to the bar cart, pouring yourself a gin and tonic to pass the time while she finished whatever it was she was doing. Sipping on the beverage you pulled your phone from your pocket, scrolling through a couple of apps and replying to a couple of messages while your gaze was distracted out the window, watching the snowfall start to get thicker, coating the streets with white fluff.

“Well don’t you look absolutely stunning.” Liz’s voice broke through the silence of the room and you turned back to her with a small laugh, the smile staying on your warm cheeks as she approached you. Her hand cupped your cheek, pulling you to her for a tender kiss that you couldn’t help but relax into.

“Thank you.” You smiled across at her, “figured I should look a little extra nice considering how many nights we’ve missed recently.”

“You know you don’t have to dress up for me.” Liz replied with a small smile, kissing your cheek gently as she squeezed at your hand, “but I do deeply appreciate it.” Her fingers tangled with yours, pulling your hand up to her lips to lay a kiss on the back of it.

“With the amount you spoil me it’s the least I could do.” You replied with a quiet laugh, draining your drink before placing the cup down on a side table. Liz hummed, her eyes dropping to your bracelet on the arm she still held up. Her gaze focused on it, eyes narrowing slightly as she examined it, her brow beginning to furrow. “What?” You asked, heart picking up in your chest as you watched her expression harden.

“This bracelet… it’s awfully personal.” Her hand dropped yours before circling your wrist, twisting your arm back and fourth to examine the jewelry.

“It’s my birthstone, yeah.” You laughed awkwardly “surrounded by yours.”

Her eyes examined it for a moment longer, pulling your wrist closer until she let out a small huff, “that’s not blue topaz, those are diamonds. They’re pulling the light from the sapphires, where did you get this?”

“You.” You chuckled again, feeling your heartbeat pick up in your chest, “one of those little secret Santa gifts you’ve been leaving.”

“It’s not from me.”

“Liz, there’ve been so many packages delivered I can’t even keep track of them, you probably ordered it months ago and forgot.”

“That’s Buccellati. I think I would remember spending that much money on you.” She scoffed, dropping your arm as she turned from you with an eye roll. “And half of those gifts were a don’t open until Christmas.”

“I just said I couldn’t keep track.” You retorted, feeling the annoyance beginning to build up through your veins.

“And I know that’s not from me.” She replied, frustration bubbling up inside of her, she’d been dealing with so much already she’d just wanted to have a nice night out and now this was ruining everything. Then again, maybe things had been ruined before she’d even realized, “diamonds mean someone born in April, or someone that likes you an awful lot and you don’t keep in touch with any family and not to offend but none of your friends could afford that.”

“I told you, it’s from you.” Your voice hardened and she laughed, shaking her head.

“Come on y/n, you’re better than that. That’s the oldest lie in the book.” She picked up a bottle of scotch, pouring out a few ounces and taking a swig as she spoke, “go around galivanting with someone else and when you get caught gaslight your partner into thinking it was them all along.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’ve been so distant!” Her voice raised ever so lightly, tensing as she spoke, her mouth tightening in that all too familiar pissed off way. “I’ve barely seen you all month, you always wait until the morning to call me back, your texts are far and few in between and the few times I’ve tried to stop by your apartment you’re out! God.” She shook her head with a heavy laugh, “I don’t know how I didn’t put it together earlier that you were seeing someone else.”

“Did you just accuse me of cheating on you?!” Anger jolted through you as you immediately saw red, an offended scoff leaving your lips.

“Well how else would you explain it!?” Her hands flailed in your general direction.

“You’re the one who keeps cancelling fucking dates Liz! I’ve been completely accommodating of your work schedule and how demanding it’s been recently. You’ve barely seen me because you keep blowing me off! Sorry that I’m not at your beck and call, I was trying to give you space and time to regroup from work! I didn’t realize I was supposed to mope around my apartment and wait for you to find a sliver of time for me, sorry that I have other friends to spend time with who actually give a shit.”

“So you admit you’ve been seeing someone?”

“I’m not fucking doing this.” Your hands shot up in surrender, “you’re being insane all over a fucking bracelet.”

“A seven thousand dollar bracelet!” She snapped back, “what would you like to do, go through my bank records?”

“No.” Grabbing your coat you headed for the door, “you can do that yourself and wake up from this fucking delusion where I would cheat on you. I cannot believe you would ever accuse me of something like that, I thought you trusted me!”

The door was pulled open and you were halfway down the steps by the time she called after you, “fine! Walk out on another fucking date, no surprise there!”

**

Christmas Eve was finally upon you and instead of being out celebrating like you thought you would be, you were curled up in the bay window of your apartment watching the snow coat the city in a thick blanket. The remnants of Chinese takeout splayed across the coffee table while the television blared quietly in the background, some marathon of holiday movies still going.

Letting out a heavy sigh you picked up the bottle of wine from beside you, topping up your glass before taking a sip as your gaze redirected out into the night once again. You hadn’t heard from Liz in nearly two weeks, the two of you no doubt trapped in a game of ‘Say Uncle’, waiting for the other to admit they were wrong before any reconciling could begin. It wasn’t the first time you’d fought and if things started moving forward again you were certain it wouldn’t be the last, she was strong willed and always would be. You were hoping that this time in light of the holiday season maybe you would be getting an apology but it appeared she was digging her heels in, burying herself in work while trying to push the image of you with another woman out of her head rather than talking her way through it.

You’d spent some time thinking about it, imagining the last couple of months from Liz’s point of view and you were starting to maybe see where she was coming from. There had been more time apart than usual, more nights of cancelled dates spent apart rather than her coming home late from work to find you making her home warm and welcoming. You’d been busy, actually accepting the offers for holiday parties and meet ups with friends in town for the season rather than sitting around bored at home. But you reminded yourself that just because she might have had the excuse to be suspicious didn’t mean the argument and her accusation was justified.

Letting out another sigh as you sucked back your wine you were debating reheating some leftover Chinese, your stomach beginning to rumble when your attention was pulled to the door. Your head tilted for a moment, wondering if you were hearing things from the television or not but the second knocking came though loud and clear. A small groan escaped your lips as you untangled yourself from the blanket, stretching out stiff muscles as you padded through your apartment to the door, pulling it open to a very lavish bouquet of poinsettias and red and white roses, it was only after a moment that you realized who was holding it.

“Thomas?” You let out a huff, “seriously, she’s making you do her bidding on Christmas Eve? You deserve a break, and a raise. If she can’t be bothered to drop them off herself I don’t want them.”

“Her?” He asked with a tilt of the head.

“Liz.” You rolled your eyes, “I knew she liked having minions to do shit like this but this is so not cool.”

“Ms. Donnelly?” His nose scrunched, “no, these are from me.”

“Oh.” You stalled in your movement, taking a step back from the door to open it wider, “I guess… come in then.”

“Thanks.” He flashed you a smile, quickly stepping into the apartment, following you so he could place the bouquet down on the kitchen island.

“You know, you really didn’t have to bring me anything.”

“Well, you’re pretty big on Christmas, aren’t you?” He gestured around your apartment, eyes sweeping through the decorations, the large tree in the corner with piles of gifts wrapped underneath it, “everyone deserves a little bit of holiday cheer.”

“Yeah.” You sighed, smiling softly across from him.

“Besides, after I saw you were actually wearing the bracelet the last time you swung through the office I figured I should stop playing secret Santa and reveal myself.” His eyes flicked down to your wrist and a frown took over his face, “but… you’re not wearing it now.”

“Hmph,” you mumbled over a sip of wine, “Liz and I got into a big fight over it, kinda left a bad taste in my mouth.”

“Oh…” He stuttered a moment, wringing his hands while he gathered his words and you took another sip of your drink, “I thought it looked quite nice. You know, my birthday’s in April, always thought diamonds and sapphires complimented each other well.”

The wine glass in your hand paused halfway back to the kitchen island and you did your best to not let it show on your face as ice began to run through your veins. The wheels were spinning in your brain, trying to make it make sense and if there was ever a moment to trust your gut, you knew this was it. Before you could fully process everything Thomas spoke again,

“I like what you did with the shadowboxes,” he gestured to the wall above the television, “they had them in your favourite colour too, but I thought that might clash with the rest of the room. I’m glad the silver looks so nice.”

“Thanks…” The glass finally met the island gently as your fingers slipped off it, gripping the edge of the counter.

“Oh and that blanket!” His eyes lit up with excitement when he saw the one you’d previously been curled up in, “isn’t it the softest thing you’ve ever felt?” You nodded slowly, “bought one for myself when I picked it up.” He was nearly two steps into your living room by the time you found your voice, clearing your throat before you spoke.

“Hey Thomas…”

“Yeah?” He whipped around, a gleam in his eye and wide smile on his face.

“How did you know where I live?” You asked slowly, keeping your tone calm and cool in an attempt to keep him in the same mood he was in currently, completely unaware that the hair on the back of your neck was standing up.

“After our date at Trattoria we shared a cab.” He reminded you, “dropped you off first.”

“Date…” You nodded slowly, an unsure smile on your lips.

“Well,” he laughed, “I guess it would’ve been more of a date if you’d let me pay for dinner, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“Uh-huh.” You picked up your wine glass again, taking another sip as you watched him take in your apartment, “you know, my name’s not on a buzzer. You go knocking on everyone’s doors?”

“Nope.” He smiled brightly over at you, “told the cabbie to wait that night, wanting to make sure you got in alright. I saw your light flick on when you got in, just did my own investigative work to figure out which suite was yours.”

“I’ll add detective to your resume.” You gently teased and he chuckled, his fingers trailing over the back of your couch while his eyes dragged through your living room.

“Chow mein noodles…” he muttered, “I should’ve known.” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head at himself, “hope you didn’t mind the shanghai ones I had sent over.”

“Hmm?” Your brow raised in his direction as your stomach began to churn.

“A couple of weeks ago.” He laughed softly, “you said you were dreading cooking dinner so I thought I’d help out a bit.”

“That was you…” You asked with a breath, feeling your heart starting to thud heavily in your chest.

“Well yeah.” He smiled brightly, “who else would it be?”

“Tell me something… how many times have you sent stuff to my apartment?”

“Food? At least once a week, I mean, you can’t forget to eat, it’s important.”

“Sure is.”

“The other stuff? Depended.” He shrugged, “I figured it’s Christmas so you should get treated a little more than usual, flowers, treats. I went through your Amazon list,” he nodded toward the tree, “though I’m figuring some of that’s still under there.”

“Okay, but why?”

“Because you deserve it.” He stepped toward you and you fought every instinct in your brain to step back, not wanting to get a negative response out of him, “you’re so beautiful, so kind and sweet. I mean, it didn’t take much to fall in love with you.”

“Oh Thomas I—”

“Was I too secretive with my Santa game?” He laughed, “did you not realize they were all from me?”

“No.. no I did not.”

“Well, surprise.” He replied with a sheepish grin, “I was your secret admirer.”

“I didn’t even realize I had one.” You replied with an awkward laugh, praying that he would stay the two feet away from you he currently was.

“What’d you mean?” He asked, his face falling, “who did you think they were from?”

“Well, to be completely honest, Liz.”

“Ms. Donnelly?” His face scrunched, “why would any of them be from her?”

“Because I am her girlfriend.” Liz’s voice growled through the apartment and you jumped, having not realized the door had never been shut behind Thomas. You had no idea how long she had been standing there or how much she had heard but one thing was clear; she was absolutely livid. “What the hell do you think you’re doing here?”

“It’s practically Christmas.” He gestured around, “I thought that was the best time to make romantic declarations.”

“Is that so?” Liz asked, her brow raising before whatever was in her hands found home on the entry way table and a dark gleam took over her eyes. “How about I tell you what the best thing to do is right now?” She stepped towards him and he visibly gulped, “you’re going to get the hell out of here and you’re never going to set foot on this block ever again. If I so much as catch a glimpse of you attempting to nose your way into her life, I’ll sick Stabler on you, understood?”

“Yes Ms. Donnelly.” He nodded, shrinking around himself as he ducked his gaze, attempting to step around her to get over to the door.

“And I think it’s very clear you don’t need to show up at work after the holidays, you’re fired. Don’t expect any good references either.”

She followed him toward the door, making sure he was scurrying his way to the stairs before she swung it shut behind him, flicking the lock for extra security. Her eyes closed for a moment and she took a deep breath before turning to you, noticing the way you were clutching the counter so tight your knuckles were white.

“Are you alright?” She asked, her voice impeccably soft as she cautiously stepped toward you, a hand soothing its way up your arm and you looked up at her, a slight shake in your voice.

“Kinda feel like I’m gonna be sick.” You ran your hand over your face, letting out a low breath, “god I was so stupid, how could I not realize?” You leant back into the counter, “I really did think it was you sending me everything.”

“Everything?” Her brow raised as her arm wound around your waist, pulling you to her so she could leave a soft kiss on your temple. “It wasn’t just the flowers?”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes at the lavish bouquet that you wanted nothing more than to toss in the garbage, “he’s been sending me things for months, and I don’t even know what was him and what was you.”

“Has he been following you?” She asked, worry taking over her voice.

“I dunno.” You shrugged, “we split a cab after drinks one night, dropped me off first but who knows, that was probably part of the plan.”

“I thought I was going overboard mentioning Stabler but now I’m starting to think it may be a good idea.” Her eyes swept through your apartment, taking in all the new trinkets that hadn’t been there the last time she was, “I’m going to get him to run Thomas’ name, do a more thorough background check, and let’s get you out of here, you’re staying at my place until New Years.”

“Are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She squeezed at your hand.

“You’re not…  mad anymore?” You asked and her face fell before she let out a weary sigh, shaking her head.

“Absolutely not. I was over worked and stressed and came to a very wrong conclusion when I should have seen how suspicious that was from a different angle.”

“You know I’d never cheat on you, right?” You couldn’t help the tears swimming into your eyes, both at the question and the fact that you were pretty shaken up considering your evening.

“Oh sweetheart.” Liz stepped forward again, her hands cupping your cheeks as she leant in to kiss you, her lips brushing against yours while she spoke, “of course I do. I know how much you love me and I love you even more than you could imagine. I’m so sorry I said those terrible things. You’re the greatest partner I could ask for, always so understanding when I have to shuffle things around, I should be praising the ground you walk on.”

“Okay well now you’re going overboard.” You let out a watery laugh, smiling as you leant forward to kiss her again.

“Nonsense.” She kissed the tip of your nose, “my girl deserves the absolute best.”

“The absolute best would be getting the fuck out of here; I feel like I need to burn half my belongings.” You shuddered and she squeezed at your shoulders, directing you toward the door.

“Grab what you need. We can come back in a couple of days to sort through everything and figure out what came from that creep and what I had sent over.”

“Okay.” You slipped into your coat, grabbing your bag grabbing Liz quickly before she ushered you out the door “thank you. I love you.”

“I love you more sweetheart.”

You’d fully calmed down a couple of hours later, curled up in Liz’s arms on her couch at her very comfortable and very private brownstone. A warm glow casted from the fully decorated tree in the corner, the main source of light in the room as Christmas movies played on the television and fluffy snowflakes drifted through the air outside. You let out a soft sigh, burrowing further into her embrace and in return her arm squeezed at you, her lips brushing against your hairline as the curved up into a smile. You both knew that no matter what the world threw at you, you had each other, you were safe and loved and there was no one else you’d rather spend the holidays or your lives with.

__________________

@svulife-rl @mickey-gomez @yesterdaysgone @momlifebehard @alexusonfire @alexxavicry @rainbowelshrhian @daddy-heather-dunbar @evilregal2002 @ladysc @dextur @disneyfan624 @kdaghay @svushots @onmykneesformarvel @kalixxh @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @louderfortheback @noahrex @temp0rary-bliss @wittygutsy @imlike-so-gaydude @gay-frogs08 @baubeautyandthegeek

[cupfullofpapas]

(yes! finally new art :D!!) Second Vol in The Assistant series: In the arms of a Devil Rated: E F/M Cardinal Copia x F!Reader Papa Emeritus IV x F!Reader Also read it on my Ao3 here Previous Vol. : The Assistant Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Part 7: Oh when will my dear Cardinal come home

"What?, what?, Is everything okay? is Cardi okay?." You asked worry buzzing inside of you like a swarm of angry bees, Imperator placed her hands on your shoulders.

"No, no nothing like that sister please calm down, the Cardinal is just fine and on his way home as we speak however the tour bus is having some minor issues on which we are keeping an eye on, the thing I have to say is that-- Sister Emelia has taken ill meaning Secondo no longer has an assistant at the moment and you are our only option I'm afraid." You could tell that Imperator did not like the idea of you and Secondo being in the same room let alone working together once again either.

"What about Laiah, Sofia even Vittoria surely one of them has to have some of the same skills?" You watched as Imperator shook her head. "They may possess organizational skills but they do not possess the knowledge and skills that you do, there are no other options." Before you could continue to argue you watched the older woman turn on a heel and start to walk away. On either side of her were two Imperiale ghouls two that you hadn't noticed beforehand their tails swaying to and fro the most you knew about them were their names.

One tall and stock his skin tone had a bluish-grey tint to it his hair was shoulder-length with only one complete horn on top of his head the other had been broken long ago his name was Alto, and walking beside him was Anvil he was shorter than Alto his hair was put back into a bun a scar rested over the bridge of his nose.

"Well, this is perfect." You grumbled to yourself closing the door and retreating to your bed and ignoring the slick between your legs, no longer in the mood. Deciding to just go to bed not even the smell of your Cardinal was enough to make you feel better, your mind tormented you with the memory of the last time you and Secondo were 'together' the look on his face, the look of utter betrayal, hours passed before you were able to get any rest.

When morning hit you dragged yourself out of bed, got yourself ready, and fed your and Copia's fur babies. You also noticed that you'd have to get another cage soon the little pink nuggets were already getting fur. You followed your usual routine the day hadn't even started and you were already irritated. You wanted nothing more than to retreat back under your covers and stay there. Completing your morning begrudgingly you found yourself outside Secondo's office, with an inhale and exhale you knocked on the door a familiar raspy voice called from behind it.

"Entrare"

Entering you saw a set of exhausted eyes look up from the papers on the desk a fleeting look of anguish passed by them before being hardened, the hunched figure sitting up straight as your name passed his painted lips.

"What are you doing here ragazza?"

Secondo asked as his eyes drifted from you back to the papers that he had been working on as he dipped his quill pen into the small bottle of ink his elegant writing continued.

"Sister asked me to fill in for Emilia, I heard she was ill." You answered keeping things professional, it was best to let old memories and feelings stay buried. "I see, well there is the work, get to it sorella".

Secondo pointed the pen towards the desk, your old desk, venturing over you sat down eyes glancing at the area and appreciating that Emilia had kept her workstation neat and organized. Without a second glance, you pulled the folders over staring. Hours passed in silence the scribbling of the pens and an occasional clearing of a throat were the only noises.

"So". Secondo started "How have you and that stronzo sorella?", You shot him an aggravated look before looking back down at the papers choosing not to answer.

"I asked you a question woman, I expect an answer". "We are just fine, now please Secondo let me get back to work". You finally answered sounding more exacerbated than you meant to. Secondo only scoffed "After leaving me for-" He made a face as he spoke "A Cardinal, I would appreciate some communication and answers." "Answers to what?" "Why you left me, Bella". You opened your mouth to speak but no words came out you didn't have any words to give nor answers. "Secondo.." "No don't 'Secondo' me I want to know why". You watched as he stood from his desk crossing the small area, you had already stood up from your desk backing up until the cold wall pressed against your back the former Papa towering above your shorter frame. "Tell me tesoro, what can that Cardinal give you that I hadn't already?" This was so unlike Secondo usually he was silent and stern, this caught you off guard. Secondo had once convinced himself that he didn't need you that you were just a fling that he got slightly attached to and nothing more. But here you were in his office again doing the same work you once did, looking as beautiful as the day you walked away. "Secondo don't-"

"Answer me". His voice was commanding as he pinned you to the wall behind you. "I deserve an answer at least." There was barely any room between you his strong body against yours, unlike Copia you had to crane your neck back to look up at him. Feeling his gloved fingertips trace your sides and down over your hips where each strong hand gripped hard enough to both leave a mark behind and make you whimper.

A gasp passed your lips as Secondo ducked his head down his lips meeting your exposed neck and going right for the spot he knew would drive you wild, gasping your hands flew up to grab onto his Papal robe.

You hated that he still knew your body so well each little spot, each little button that drove you wild, mixing that with not having another's touch for months was a dangerous concoction one that caused a soft moan to pass your lips.

"You remember it, si?" Secondo's lips moved lower biting at the nape of your neck nibbling his way back up and stopping at your ear. "The way I felt inside of you? withering away in pleasure below me as I took you, dolcezza" his voice was deep, husky, and raspy.

You bit your lip your mind disobeying you making you remember it, vividly remembering it, being bent over his desk your skirt around your middle while you let Papa have his way with you, the pressure, pleasure, and pain when his cockhead abused your cervix each time his hips slammed against you.

You silently cursed as you felt your lower lips slick together you were wet, practically dripping as you felt his hand starting to slide your skirt up. For a split second, you heard his voice in your head, the voice of your Cardinal

........."Each time I thought a sorella or fratello loved me, wanted to be with me they always chose Terzo or Secondo-"...................

That was enough to snap you out of it as you pushed against the large man pinning you. "Secondo- Secondo stop". When he didn't listen you grew angry using all the strength in your small frame you shoved him back the man looking surprised.

"Secondo" You spoke firmly. "We had our moments, we had our fun that is all we were and all we will ever be I'm sorry that I hurt you but I am with Copia now and I can tell you what he gives me that you didn't, actual love he never left after we finished fucking I woke up to him still there and not alone in the bed feeling like someone's dirty little secret, I've moved on and now it's your turn to do the same".

You weren't sure where that surge of bravery came from be it anger or adrenaline but you were glad it did because it seemed to be enough to get through the former Papa's head. As he uttered an annoyed 'mi dispiace' as he once again gathered the shattered pieces of his pride, it was truly over. The rest of the evening you both worked in silence, you hoped that one day you would at least be friends again and put this behind you both.

Another month had come and gone and every time you and the ministry expected the band to come back something else popped up, to which Copia always called and told you even before Sister Imperator told you. Again you would wake up alone in your bed you had long stopped getting excited when you heard a big vehicle pull into the ministry parking lot.

The sound usually being a delivery van so when you did hear something pull in you didn't run to the window like the rest of your sin siblings, not until you heard one of them squeal 'They're back!' Your breath caught in your throat, back? as in back, back? as in your Cardinal was home? not waiting for another second you made your way quickly down to the lobby where the large doors opened.

First, the ghouls walked in tiredly several siblings walking them off to the den to rest and then that's when it happened you locked eyes with your Cardinal you felt like pinching yourself to make sure that this wasn't another one of those torturous dreams where you jumped for your Cardinal but was only met with the bedroom floor. You threw all caution to the wind as you ran from the base of the grand stairs to him watching as his arms opened wide you could feel the sting of tears hit your eyes as you lept toward his awaiting arms.

Tag list: @thesoundresoundsecho @xpapaemeritus @copiasprincipessa @siouxbauhaus @strawberrypimpsimp

[physalian]

Writing with Executive Dysfunction (or how to lower the barrier of entry)

So you want to write a book, but all you have is a cool one-liner, a niche super power you want to explore, and the blurry image of a love interest with a two-syllable kind of name. You don’t know where to start, what to tackle first, how to jump in the deep end.

Can you write the ending first? What if you want this really cool gimmick in a fight scene but can’t write action to save your life? Do you start in media res or with a prologue, or with the character starting their daily routine? Do you write the villain’s POV first?

Or do you start with an outline, character sheets, a title, summary, your themes and motifs? How many pages and pages of worldbuilding notes should you have built up before you’re good to tackle the first page? You’ve heard time and again the critical importance of the first three sentences. The first chapter if your audience is generous.

The pressure mounts to be unique, but not try-hard, descriptive but not flowery, intriguing, but not confusing, all in the first hundred or so words. You sit there staring at the little blinking black line on your blank page… and the idea gets shelved for another day. It collects virtual dust in the backlogs of your computer, forgotten until you have to clear out space on your hard drive and stumble across unspent potential.

Everyone and their dog has their own bits of writing advice and I’m sure I’m about to echo tips that have been around the block once or twice, but there are a few I don’t see talked about enough.

Whether you suffer from severe procrastination, fear of failure before you even begin, the overwhelming limitlessness of choice, or just can’t sit down and dedicate any time to see what happens, this list might be for you.

1. Write Every Day

This is nothing new, but I’m going to tackle the implementation of such a habit over why it’s important. You already know why it’s important. Writing every day doesn’t demand a full page of a Word doc, or 200 words before you can get up and do something else. Sometime a witty dialogue exchange comes to mind while you’re doing dishes – write that down.

Or you saw a cool name for a character in a commercial – write that down.

Or you had a dream about your characters in a high-octane street chase – write down the synopsis.

Personally, I use Apple Notes. It’s free, I can log-in to iCloud through a browser and keep writing, and my phone is always with me. I have dedicated folders to sort which notes belong to which concepts.

Disclaimer: Apple Notes is meant for exactly that: Note taking. I take it to the extremes, but it’s not a word processer. It’s not meant for anything more strenuous than putting virtual pen to virtual paper.

I build up so many variations of scene ideas and concepts for character arcs that my ‘notes’ for any given book can be as long as a full-length novel. Most of the time, admittedly, those ideas get outdated fast as I move on to bigger and better things, but the point is this: I never would move on to better things if I didn’t have somewhere to start.

I have a personal grudge against OneDrive for a sync failure losing 20k words of a WIP, so most of my writing is done through Google Docs and saved to Google Drive. It’s not the most powerful word processor, but you don’t have to worry about formatting until the very end and can export later. It’s free, like Apple Notes (assuming you have an iPhone), and the smart phone app for Google programs works phenomenally better than the MS Word app – so once again, the barrier for being within reach of places to jot down ideas is lowered. My phone is always with me.

It doesn’t have to be digital – carry around a journal or a notebook or a legal pad if you want. Whatever gets your creative juices flowing. The point is to have somewhere to take all the ideas you have in your head and get them onto paper the moment inspiration strikes.

2. Writing is Supposed to be Fun

The dreaded writer’s block, scourge of authors everywhere. You’ve reached the point in your manuscript where you’ve caught up to the epic adventure you’ve written in your head. The little writer in your brain has gone on strike and you’re left in the doldrums of how to transition from one chapter to the next. One idea to the next. One scene, one line of dialogue.

Answer: Skip it.

Unless you have a hard deadline to make, writing is supposed to be fun. Your best work comes when you’re passionate about doing it, not when you’re holding your fingers hostage to put something on the page or else.

When you start getting frustrated, walk away. When you get stressed, walk away. The manuscript will still be there once you’ve slept on it for a day or two and you’ll be glad for it. Or, write a different scene. Write a hypothetical scene (more on this point later). Write anything you want and come back to the hard parts later. The gaps will fill eventually, and if they don’t—consider what about that transition or scene is so hard and consider axing it entirely. If it’s frustrating for you, it’s probably boring or unimportant to the reader.

3. Script it

My favorite writer’s crutch is to make a skeleton of the scene I want to have, fill it with dialogue, and move on. The pretty thematic narrative can come later. It’s halfway between an outline and a first draft and, for me, someone to whom dialogue comes easier than narrative, this is another barrier removed to letting creativity flow.

I don’t have to think about dialogue tags or movement of a scene or how exactly I want to structure a sentence or describe the setting. Scripting lets me sus out the pacing of a given scene, test run a conversation I have in my head to see if it might really work before investing all the time and effort of a fully fleshed out first draft, only to erase it all later.

You can do this mid-narrative, too. If you just want to skip over a couple lines that aren’t coming naturally to you, script a vague sense of stage directions until you get to easier narrative and come back later.

When I say scripting, mine look something like this:

Character A (ChA): [position within the setting, tone of voice, any notable gesture or action that enhances the dialogue] “Dialogue.” [specific dialogue tag, if necessary] … (often a paragraph break) … “Dialogue.” Character B (ChB): “Dialogue.” [emotion, reaction, details about the setting that are now important, new revelations by the narrating POV] … “Dialogue,” [action. Tonal shift. Movement] ChA: “Dialogue.” [action] … (scene continues)

In practice:

… ChA: [kicks back against the wall of the room, arms crossed. Annoyed, waiting for ChB to speak first, but they don’t] “Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to leave?” [head tilts, still waiting on an answer ChB isn’t giving] “All you had to do was ask.” ChB: “You were having fun,” [quiet, wringing their hands in their lap on the edge of the bed] “You wanted me there. So I was there.” [huffs, flips their hair back. Not sure how many times they’ve had this conversation. Will always hate parties, not going to suddenly like them just because ChA is there] “You can either have me there, or make sure I’m comfortable. You can’t have both.” ChA: “So now I’m the bad guy.” [foot thumps on the floor like a judge’s gavel] …

Scripting also lets you fill a scene with multiple new characters before you figure out their names or descriptions, tagging their lines with the bare minimum. I often test out entire action scenes (which I loathe writing) in script form, so I know I’m satisfied with the pacing, blocking, and amount of movement before I lock it in and write the first draft of actual narrative. It also forces you to make sure your characters are taking actions and not just sitting at a table like talking mannequins.

Transitioning from script to narrative can be mighty tedious sometimes if you try to fit in chunks of narrative in the exact places you left on your initial pass. Fictional prose is organic, so let it breathe.

Maybe you let a character monologue for too long, or they have too much movement in a scene that becomes unnatural and clunky. Or the entire scene ran away from you because the conversation was just that good. Whatever the case, a script, bare minimum, gets your foot in the door.

4. Write Fanfic

I like sci-fi and fantasy. I also like taking my sci-fi and fantasy characters and throwing them into ‘fanfics’ to test out relationships and start to get a feel for what makes them unique from the rest of the cast.

Sometimes the setting changes to something mundane, sometimes it’s a hypothetical scene that the current pacing of the narrative just doesn’t have room for, or it’s a flashback you’ll never include but want to have written so it’s concrete when you reference it in the present.

It also helps you fall in love with your characters when you can write them without consequence, doing whatever, doing whoever, saying whatever, going wherever. In fanfic, their personalities can start to write themselves and you discover them as you write them. And, hey, sometimes you come up with a concept so good, you change the entire real narrative around to fit it.

All your attention doesn’t have to be on the story you’re actually writing.

5. Keep All of Your Deleted Scenes

I keep so many of mine, the ‘deleted scenes’ doc of one book is 40k words longer than the actual manuscript, filled with numerous variations of the same scene written over and over again in vain trying to keep something that no longer works.

Keep them for several reasons:

It reminds you of how far you’ve come.

You can pick through the bones for bits of dialogue and setting descriptors even if the majority is trashed.

You remind yourself of what didn’t work before, so you don’t fall in that same trap again.

If you change your mind, all you have to do is copy-paste it back in.

6. Remember First Drafts are First Drafts

Let the word spew flow forth from your fingers and don’t look back and start questioning every decision and all its flaws until your creativity tank starts sputtering on empty. It’s supposed to be messy, it’s supposed to have plot holes and typos and inconsistencies and things to fact-check. If you start hyper-fixating on making sure your manuscript has absolutely no errors before moving on to the next chapter, it will never get written, and you’ll convince yourself you’re a terrible writer.

Writing is easy. Revisions are hard. Just as storytelling doesn’t have to be linear, neither does the writing process. If that critical first line just won’t come to you, stuff a mediocre one in its place and move on. Write the ending first. Write all the romantic entanglements first. Write the big climactic argument first and figure out how the rest falls into place around your beautiful centerpiece.

But remember: You do, at some point, have to write the hard stuff. Hopefully, when the time comes, you look at all the rest you’ve written and are proud enough of your progress that those daunting scenes that looked impossible before become much more approachable now. Do it for your future readers who want to know how it ends. Do it for your characters. Do it for you.