#you’re a psychopath oliver

[barbaroonie]

I loved him, but was I in love with him?

[semisgroupie]

summer memories

camp counselor!sae itoshi x camp counselor!fem. reader

wc: 1.8k

warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, fingering (f!receiving), anal fingering (f!receiving), oral sex (f!receiving), rimming (f!receiving), sae is an ass man to me (sorrynotsorry), spit, having sex in someone else’s bed, one spank

synopsis: an empty campsite, two horny counselors, what do you think will happen?

a/n: this is my contribution to the help wanted! collab hosted by @interstellar-inn

You didn’t know what to expect when you first got the job this summer. A camp counselor at a sleep away camp, you were nervous about what was going to happen, you were nervous about your skills with children but soon you learned that all your worries were for nothing. The campers that were assigned to you were absolute angels, they loved you endlessly. The other counselors weren’t stuck up like you thought them to be, they welcomed you in and you loved hanging out with them.

Especially one fellow counselor in particular, Sae Itoshi. His bright cerulean eyes always lit up whenever he was with his campers and the way his fiery hair stuck to his forehead whenever he was outside for long periods of time made you an obvious admirer. Luckily for you, he felt the same way and made it just as known.

Sometimes when the campers were fast asleep, you’d meet him near the dock and spend the time talking but as of late it has escalated to kissing and heavy petting. But it would always get interrupted, the camp director always seemed to come out for a smoke in front of her cabin late at night. Luckily, you two never got caught fraternizing but it was definitely a major mood killer.

It was the night before the camp was holding its final big event. During the day everyone would have to load onto buses to go into town to go shopping for treats and little decorations but Sae had other plans for you two. You were seated on his lap, both of your lips swollen from kissing and his hands were firmly placed on your hips. “I have a plan for us to be all alone here for a few hours while everyone is out. I’ll need you to fake being sick.” His thumbs rubbed small circles on the exposed skin under your shirt and your eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“When you’re sick, you can’t join everyone on the trip and you’ll need another counselor to stay behind with you. Just in case there’s some crazed psychopath roaming around the woods,” he joked and leaned in to peck your lips. “But, whenever someone can’t go on the outing someone will have to stay behind. It’s kind of like a buddy system. I already spoke to Hana and Ryusei and they’ll take care of our campers during the outing. So in the morning, you’ll go to the nurse’s cabin, pretend you’re really sick and he’ll have to tell Director Pain-in-my-ass about your illness. Then she’ll come in to see who you want to stay with, you’ll choose me, and then we’ll have the whole camp to ourselves.”

You chewed on your bottom lip as he laid out the plan for you and you nodded slowly. “How many times have you done this?” You joke and he shakes his head, “I’ve seen Oliver do it almost every year, I’ve learned everything from him.” You nod and he captures your lips once more, only pulling away when you hear the obnoxiously loud creak of the camp director’s cabin door opening.

When the next day approaches, you carry on with the plan and it works without fail. Your little campers run to give you a hug and exclaim how they’ll pick out your favorite treats and how they’ll miss you. You and Sae stand at the entrance to the camp and wave as the buses leave the campsite then after a few minutes he grabs your hand and leads you to the director’s cabin. Your eyes widen and you tug on his hand, “Sae! Why there?” He smirks and shrugs as he pulls you again, “well there is a single bed in there that looks really comfortable and there’s more space. Plus, just in case you forgot, we are alone so we can go wherever we want.” He looks into your eyes to gauge your reaction and leans in, pecking your lips. “It’ll be fun but if you don’t want to go there, we can find somewhere else to go.” You think about it for a moment and nod before leaning in to peck his lips again. “Let’s go.”

He pulls you into the cabin and pulls you close to him to capture your lips with his. He kicks the door shut behind you both as you blindly walk to the bed, only stopping when the back of your knees hit the mattress. “I’m gonna treat you so well.” He lightly pushes you back onto the bed and straddles your hips as he leans down to kiss you again, hungrily pressing his lips against yours. His hands move along your body, slipping under your shirt and his fingers ghost along your bra. He breaks the kiss and reaches down to pull your shirt off of you and tosses it aside then leans in to kiss down your chest. He pulls down the cups of your bra to reveal your nipples and takes one into his mouth while his fingers toy with your other one. He trails wet, open mouthed kisses along your chest to go to your other nipple and gives it the same treatment. He keeps his eyes on you and he releases your nipple then moves down your body.

“Sae, please, I need you. I don’t want to wait.” He chuckles against your skin and his lithe fingers move to undo the button for your shorts and lifts his head slightly. “There’s no need to rush. I want you to be ready for me.” He pulls your shorts and panties down and groans as he sees your wet pussy. “Shit, baby, you’re just soaked for me.” He bites his lip as his cock throbs, he wants nothing more than to just plunge into you but he’s not an animal.

“Go on all fours for me.” He groans out as he pulls his shirt off, revealing his toned abs then goes to take off his own shorts and briefs. You nod and get into position, arching your back as you sway your ass for him. He licks his lips and leans down behind you, getting the perfect view of both of your aching holes. “You have the prettiest pussy and asshole. I don’t know which one I want to taste first.” He leans in closer and sticks out his tongue, pressing the wet muscle against your clit then moves up to your entrance and dips his tongue inside then makes his way higher to your puckered asshole. He groans as he presses his thumb to your clit and works his tongue around your hole. You gasp and moan as he works his tongue along both of your holes, going into his own world of pleasure. “Sae, give me more.” You whine as you press your cheek against the sheets to try to look back at him. He pulls back and spits on your pussy then plunges two fingers into you while he brings his tongue back to your asshole. He curls his fingers to press against your g spot as he pushes his tongue into your ass, groaning as his cock leaks precum onto the bed.

Your hands go to grip the sheets as you writhe on the bed, getting closer and closer to your orgasm. “Sae, don’t stop please. I’m so close.” You moan out and he pulls away, panting as he looks at you. “Sorry baby, I only want you cumming on my cock. Once this whole camp season is done, then I’ll make you cum however you want.” He pulls his fingers out of you and spreads you open as he leans down to spit on your pussy, he grips his cock with one hand and strokes it as he moves the tip to your leaking entrance. He bites his bottom lip as he pushes into you, throwing his head back as you squeeze and clench around his cock. “You’ve got the tightest pussy.” He brings a hand down to spank you as he pushes into you more, stretching you out with each inch. His breath hitches as he bottoms out and he starts thrusting.

You grip the sheets tighter and cry out his name as the bed creaks with each movement. He moves his hands to your ass to spread you open, watching how his cock stretches you out then looks at your puckered hole, winking at him each time he bottoms out. He drops his head and lets a glob of spit travel from his lips to your hole, watching as it travels down to his cock pistoning in and out of your pussy. He moves one of his thumbs as presses it against your hole and slowly starts to push it into you. “Fuck, if only we had more time. I’d spend the whole day claiming all of your holes properly.” He groans out and starts thrusting his thumb in and out in time with his cock in your pussy. The feeling of both of your holes being used drives you closer and closer to the edge. The orgasm that you were denied earlier comes back in full force, ripping through you as he starts thrusting faster. “Cumming! Sae! Sae!” You cry out and bite down on one of the pillows to muffle yourself as he continues to thrust his cock and thumb in and out of you.

“Me too baby, I’m cumming too.” He groans out as he pushes his thumb into you and slams his hips against yours, keeping himself pressed against you as his cock twitches inside of you. Thick ropes of his cum coating you completely. He slowly pulls his thumb out of you then pulls his cock out of you before laying down beside you. He pulls you close to his chest and pants as he rubs your back. You rest your chin on his chest as you look up at him and caress his cheek, “that was amazing, definitely worth the wait.” He chuckles and leans in to peck your lips nodding, “oh yeah, all those nights where I had to go jerk off in the showers thinking about you was nothing compared to the real thing.”

You close your eyes for a moment before you hear the sound of tires on gravel, making both of you jump up and quickly dress. You both run out of the cabin and you smooth out your clothes as you wait with Sae, watching as the buses pull in with the campers. Everyone leaves the bus and the camp director approaches you and Sae with a raised brow, “you look better, Miss Y/N, almost like you’re glowing.” You nod and smile, “yes, I just needed a long nap and thanks to Sae’s help, I feel brand new.” She nods and walks past you both then once she’s out of view, you lean to Sae. “Please tell me you fixed the sheets.” His eyes widen as he looks at you, “I thought you did! We’re so fucked.”

Thankfully, it was the last full night of the camp season so you two wouldn’t be kicked out but it was definitely a night filled with glares and mutters from the camp director.

taglist: @litepowee @satmitsuplanet @bluelock4life @suyacho @tojjist @interstellar-inn @pixelcafe-network

[korasonata]

JUST finished Cleo’s first stream for Pirates SMP, and the amount of times I just fully burst out laughing like—

—

Sausage: *kisses Scott on sight*

Owen: *throwing himself in front of Sausage * Hi. 😏

Scott: I like a forward man 😉

—

Sausage: Where do you get these? This silk?

Scott: Thank you, thank you…

Sausage: Can I touch it?

Scott: Yeah of course. You can touch whatever you want 😏

—

Oli: I’ll give you 5 gold to tell me what’s beneath that patch.

Cleo: Look my eye got stolen by a monkey, ok?!

Oli: Oh! Was it a my cock?

Sausage: WHAT?!

Oli: A ma’ cock!

Sausage: THAT’S NOT HOW YOU PRONOUNCE IT!

—

*Owenge_Juice becomes a Heron*

Scott/Cleo/El: (chanting) ONE OF US! ONE OF US! ONE OF US!

Owen: …are you allowed to change your mind afterwards?

Scott: NO! :D

—

El: So you’re like a lone wolf?

Owen: Uh…kind of. More like a lone sea dog.

El: Come on, give us a bark.

Scott: Yeah!

Owen: Uh…I only bark in certain situations…

Scott: Oh. What situations?

Owen: …uh, oKAY! WHICH WAY—

—

El: This is my bed over here. There is one right next to it, you can take that.

Owen: Perfect! Thanks!

El: I do make really loud noises in my sleep.

Scott + Owen: Oh???

El: Yeah.

Cleo: Yeah, but not the noises you would expect either.

—

Cleo (about Olive): They said they’d got invitations from Herons and Nightingales I think?

Scott: Yeah it was Heron, Nightingales, and Kestrals, they didn’t get Kites.

Cleo: Who DOES get Kites unless you’re a psychopath.

Scott: Owen got all 4.

Owen: Yeah…umm…

Cleo: Oh…

—

*Cleo gets everyone drunk*

Cleo: Ah, you’re all lightweights!

El: *flirting with Water* Oh, you look so lovely in this light right now!

Water: Oh El!

El: Lovely!

Scott: I feel I can take more damage. I’m gonna go jump off the cliff guys!!

—

Cleo: Maybe one day you can buy a real hat!

El: Well I will, but you know, I just think— I don’t see anybody else having made one when they’ve not got one. Gonna get a wet head.

Cleo: *absolutely lost it*

—

Cleo: Gotta get the alcohol. Otherwise I’m gonna kill someone. It’s fine.

—

Oil (Distant): ARE WE SURE THIS IS THE WAY?!

Cleo: Scott’s sure it’s the way!

Oli (distant distress): I— DON’T LIKE IT!

Aimsey: Honestly I’m hoping for the best! I hope he does!

Oli: Ya Damn Herons!

Cleo: You don’t have to follow us, ok?!

Oli: Well unfortunately my Kestrals already ran off

Aimsey: This is what I mean! I— I’m hoping you get this! I’ve dunked this too many times!

Cleo: It’s very Kestral of you to just wait until the end and have other people to do it for you!

Aimsey: I’m a Kite! I’m a Kite! Thank you!

Cleo: Well, yeah you know what? It’s very typical for Kites to do it too.

Aimsey: Oh well is it now? Is it then?!

Cleo: Oh yeah yeah! It is it is!

Aimsey: Do you wanna duel?! You wanna duel when we get back, Cleo?! You wanna duel?!

Cleo: Do I want to punch you in the face a bunch? I do. But I’m drunk. I don’t know what you want from me.

—

Oli: There we go, I’ve got a side angle. I’m overtaking you, Heron! SLOOOOWWW

Cleo: *cuts him off*

Oli: No stop crashing! You’re crashing my port side!

Cleo: Well you know—

Oli: GET OFF ME PORT SIDE!

Cleo: NO ONE WANTS TO BE ON YOUR PORT SIDE, OK?!

Oli: Everyone wants to be on my port side!

—

Cleo: This is very far away. Like I haven’t heard Scott this whole time. I feel like Scott’s monologuing.

Aimsey: I can hear you though, Cleo!

Cleo: I hear YOU. And I—

Aimsey: You love that, right? You love hearing me. 😏

—

Cleo: *singing* What shall we do with a drunken sailor! What shall we do with a drunken sailor! What shall we— *talking* apparently put her in a boat and let her follow Scott, that’s what you need to do with a drunken sailor.

—

Oli: AIMSEY! AIMSEY! AIMSEY! STOP SINGING!

Aimsey: *distant singing*

Cleo: Oh I can’t hear Aimsey, that’s good.

Oli: CAUSE I HATE HERONS!

Cleo (a Heron): AIMSEY’S NOT A HERON!

SILENCE

Oli: …then what are they?

Cleo: They’re a Kite.

Oli: OH STUPID KITES! Herons, you’re alright. KITES. Imbeciles.

—

Owen (talking to chat): No, there’s no canon lives, chat. Except in specific cases. *whispering* check with Twitter.

Cleo: YOU’RE BREAKING MY EMERSION OWEN!

Owen: Sorry!

—

Olive: Hey! Where does a pirate go to school? HARRRvard!

Cleo: …You’re out of the faction.

Olive: Oh no! Not on my second day! H—how does a pirate protect themself? ARRRmour.

Cleo: …I’m gonna run a vote…

Olive: No it’s fine, I’ll go join the Kite’s or something, it’s fine.

Cleo: Oh dear.

Olive: What do you call it when two pirates are in a draw? A staleMATEY.

Cleo: OUT! OUT OF THE FACTION!

—

*Cleo walks up to a female NPC*

Cleo: Hello sweet lady 😏

—

Other things I also enjoyed

•Scar managing to get a Jellie and literally everyone swarming around to pet her

•Scott, Aimsey, Cleo, and Oli sailing together and all of them singing a completely different pirate song simultaneously.

•The entire dynamic between Cleo and Aimsey

•Cleo being HELLA sus of Cruppy the entire time right up until Scott hands it a beer and it drinks and suddenly Cleo’s just like actually you know what? You’re alright. We cool.

•Cleo being given babysitting duty and then literally within 5 minutes pawning off the child with a rival faction

•Cleo using being drunk as an excuse for everything. Lag? Everyone is drunk because she keeps giving out alcohol. Server crash? Don’t mind her she’s just vomiting in the corner of a pub somewhere. No tools? She needs the iron to make kegs for MORE alcohol. Oh you wanna fight? I would but I’m drunk. Shit babysitter? I’m a drunk what do you want from me? She signs off for the day and her excuse for her absence is literally just “imma go get blackout drunk for a solid 14 hours”. The fact that the excuse works lore wise for almost every situation.

•THE ANIMATICS

•The LORE. JUST ALL THE LORE

Solid start. 10/10

[seravphs]

drabbles:

✧ modern intimacy | 200 fluff

Gojo watches you get ready for your anniversary date.

✧ all roads lead home | 600 fluff

Gojo “my girl is mad at me I hope I die” Satoru, companion piece to modern intimacy

✧ all the rumors are true | 450 fluff

He’s an idol. You’re a hairstylist.

short/long fic:

✧ dinner plans | 1k fluff

Gojo's a brat.

✧ spoil | 1k fluff

Gojo Satoru likes his girls clingy. 

✧ sweetheart, psychopathic crush | 1.5k fluff and mild angst 

“What I want from the river is what I always want: / to be held by a stronger thing that, in the end, chooses mercy.” - Advantages of Being Evergreen by Oliver Baez Bendorf

✧ starboy | 1.6k fluff

Your job description entails taking care of one (1) astronaut on his way to Mars. It doesn’t say anything about falling in love with him. 

✧ arrive through obliteration | 3.5k smut

Gojo deserves a trophy for winning his fight against Sukuna. You’re happy to deliver.

✧ you get me closer to god | 3.7k fluff

Kneeling by your bed, rosary wrapped around your knuckles, lips pressed to the burnished rosewood, you pray. God, please send me another guardian angel. A blast of static from the TV behind you. The one you sent me- “Hey, how does the thing work?” Gojo says, accompanied by loud thumps. You cringe in silence. He’s strange.

✧ graveyard shift | 4.5k fluff | (not really a) mafia au

When you took the job, you knew working the night shift at your local convenience store would be boring. That’s fine; you’re here to make enough to pay rent, not to smile for strangers who don’t care anyways.The appearance of a stranger who seems to have a lot to hide is tantalizing bait to your boredom, but you can’t give in. That is, if you have a choice at all.

✧ the commutative property of relationships | 4.5k smut

Gojo and you have little to nothing in common besides a friend group and a shared crush on Nanami Kento. However, as befitting the sorcerer to end all sorcerers, of course Gojo has one up on you - he’s actually made a move on Nanami. If he offers to give you a taste through him, who are you to turn down such a golden opportunity?

✧ star power | 6.8k fluff

Gojo loves the untouchable. You’re an off limits rockstar who thinks he’s an idiot. The only thing he can do is take that as a challenge, right?

universes: 

✧ cruel summer 

✧ teen dad gojo 

series:

✧ let your hand become a blade so I may take it | royal au | 1/7 chapters

Updated knight! gojo x princess! reader

✧ the hand which holds the knife | royal au | 2 chapters 

OLD DRAFT of knight! gojo x princess! reader

✧ spring in hell and everything’s blooming | 2/5 chapters | estimated 12k 

There is before-Getou and after-Getou. In both spaces, Gojo exists.

✧ beating hearts promised to bared teeth | 1/2 chapters | estimated 20k

When a kind stranger offers you his home because your gambling addict of a father can’t pay rent, you’re left in charge of a shrine - with a catch. Once you arrive at your new home, you learn a crucial fact that he conveniently left out. You’re the new god in charge, and his familiar, who now belongs to you, does not like you. What’s a new god to do, especially when she finds herself slowly falling for the fox spirit?

[our-aroace-experience]

I was the dm of a dnd campaign for a little while, and long story short, basically no one in this dnd group knew each other before we joined. Lucky for me most of the group members were also queer, and there was this running bit that everyone in the fictional town it took place in was gay (except Oliver at the library, who is aroace, I would always note that part when someone commented on it). It was going really well for a while but near the end of the campaign one of the guys in the group said (in response to that) “What does aroace mean, anyway?” And I kindly explained it to him, and his response was “oh. That’s sad.” And I was so caught up in telling him that no, it isn’t sad, it’s just another way of life, that I accidentally outed myself as aroace. There was a distinct pause from everyone in the group, which I was caught off-guard by considering, again, most of them were also queer and had seemed so accepting before that. After a while, one girl spoke up to say her mom thinks aroace people are psychopaths, and while she specified that she didn’t agree with her mom, the whole situation was very depressing to me because of how often I’m made to feel like there’s something wrong with me outside of queer-friendly spaces (frequently both directly and indirectly), and it reminded me that even a lot of queer-friendly spaces don’t accept a-spec folks.

i’m so sorry to hear that, i know there are a lot of aspec who love dnd (me included)! hopefully you’re able to find some accepting people to play it with!

[obaewankenope]

Anti-Semitism isn't hard to see if you know some history and literature.

When someone tries to make out that you’re being Anti-Semitic when you point out that goblins in Harry Potter are Anti-Semitic as heck, and that the recent Blood Libel game is incredibly Anti-Semitic because of its basic premise, respond with this:

It's not that I'm Anti-Semitic for being able to recognise when characters are Jew-coded, but rather the fact that culturally-speaking, the representations of Jews in media, in history, in literature, have been tied with creatures and individuals who are craven, immoral, greedy, or violent towards what is portrayed as the 'good' society of Christian folk. For example, the works of opera-composer Richard Wagner are incredibly Anti-Semitic with his portrayals of specific characters as Jewish and evil; this is because Wagner himself was Anti-Semitic and this was included in his own works. [1] Works which, by the way, have had a significant effect on all subsequent operatic plays in some way, and the ensuing musical and theatrical arenas. 

A more recent, and more relevant example of this sort of Anti-Semitism in media that people consume is found in the classic novel The Canterbury Tales where a "devout Christian child" is murdered by Jews who are offended because he sings a Christian hymn passing through a Jewish quarter in an Asian city. [2] This novel went on to inspire a plethora of later fiction, writers, authors, visual media, and so on. [3][4] Therefore we have a return of the concept of 'Blood Libel' wherein Jewish individuals murder Christian children for [insert reason here].[5]

William Shakespeare also portrayed a negative example of Jews in The Merchant of Venice which was inspired by an earlier work by Marlowe named The Jew of Malta. In this, Marlowe's Jew is the first portrayal of a psychopath in theatre and, as a result, the perception of Jews is set in place, especially when Shakespeare utilises Jews and the Othering of a group in The Merchant of Venice.[6] The archetype of a Jewish moneylender stereotype actually came about from Shakespeare's play, the character Shylock, and this then goes on to influence and inform all subsequent portrayals of Jews in literature.[7] Furthering this, Shylock's character in the plays, were often portrayed in a devilish manner, tying the character (and Jews by association) with sinfulness, anti-Christian mentality, and being inhuman compared to 'good Christian folk'. Shylock's character often possessed a hooked nose (seen more recently in portrayals of goblins in Harry Potter who also 'happen' to be moneylenders and hate wizards) and bright red wings (signifying devilry).[8]

And, another example of a popular Jewish character is that of Charles Dickens' Fagin in Oliver Twist!.[9] With the multitude of film adaptions of Oliver, it definitely is a problem when the main villain is a Jewish individual obsessed with finances, riches, is a thief, and uses good children who aren't Jewish for his own ends. Dickens does, however, also present some Jewish characters in other novels more positively which is a departure from the majority of portrayals by authors who already use Jews negatively. However, Fagin's description in Oliver is predominantly influenced by long-held presumptions of what Jews look like to English society which, incidentally, threw all the Jews out of its society in 1290 and thus didn't have an actual interaction with Jews for a very, very long time.[10] This lack of interaction to dismantle fanciful and bigoted stereotyping is what has greatly influenced such pervasive negative perceptions and portrayals of Jews in English literature and other media for generations.[11]

The Jewish family name "Rothschild" became somewhat synonymous with moneylending, greed, and control of economics and governance as a result, by Ezra Pound's portrayal of Jewish money attitudes in The Cantos. A poem that looks at economics and governance of individuals, where Pound implicates Jews as sinister manipulators of monetary supplies.[12] Even if the name was changed, the association remains.

The fact that such a perception of Jews as manipulators of finances on a global scale is now part of the pervasive and, quite honestly, Nazi-centric ideology wherein Jews are seen as the controllers of the world (think Illuminanti and such) is neither a coincidence nor unexpected. Especially when you have to consider the history of Europe and World War Two wherein Jews were specifically targeted because of existing Anti-Semitic opinion, and were also convenient scape-goats for a government that required a target for everyone to 'blame' and to justify their inhumanity. Of course, there's also the fact that, by removing the individuals who were forced into accepting monetary positions by a Christian culture hundreds of years prior because handling money was seen in Christianity as immoral and sinful for good Christians the Nazi's enabled themselves as financiers of their own war effort and, in a larger sense, gained control of the wealth of Germany at a time when... honestly, Germany was bankrupt and the Nazi's needed a way to obtain funds quickly via warfare, invasion, and the theft of resources and finances of the country/'s they invaded. 

This is all the result of generations of isolation, exclusion, othering and the turning of individuals who are Not Like The Majority into monstrous beings, and so much more. There is a reason why so few actually recognise the pervasive Anti-Semitism in goblin portrayal by Rowling in Harry Potter because, especially in England, the characterisation of goblins is so deeply ingrained that people do not recognise the origins of the characterisations as based on ignorance, fear, the othering of a group that is not the majority, and plain old religious intolerance.

.

I am not Jewish. This was a 25 minute google search and actually putting some effort into reading the sources to summarise here. Not all of it is 100% accurate in terms of how I've described it only because it is summarised but:

TL:DR; Anti-Semitism is real, literature is full of it, society and culture in near every country is influenced by it and Anti-Semitism is ingrained like institutional racism. Shut up if you think otherwise because your precious Rowling made you a pretty game where you can kill Jews goblins or whatever.

References:

[1] https://www.brandeis.edu/tauber/publications/books/katz-wagner.html

[2] https://archive.org/details/scatteredamongna00alex 

[3] https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=Z98ixsptZNMC&pg=PA25&redir_esc=y#v=onepage&q&f=false

[4] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Canterbury_Tales#Later_adaptations_and_homages  

[5] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blood_libel 

[6]  Greenblatt, Stephen (1978). "Marlowe, Marx, and Anti-Semitism". Critical Inquiry. 5 (2): 291–307.

[7] https://www.grin.com/document/93563 

[8] https://archive.org/details/antisemitismmode00macc  

[9] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fagin 

[10] https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=Z98ixsptZNMC&pg=PA43&redir_esc=y#v=onepage&q&f=false 

[11] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edict_of_Expulsion

[12] Levine, Gary Martin, The merchant of modernism: the economic Jew in Anglo-American literature, Psychology Press, 2003, p 154-156.

[j0eyj0rdis0n]

You doing matchups? I've been wanting one for so long 🥲 creepypasta of course gotta love the skrungles . Lol I'm genderfluid but I come off more feminine than masculine. I'm 5.2 , petite is the best way to describe me . I have a septum piercing planning on getting a sternum tattoo for my birthday this year (my own design I'm excited) I have short bleached dyed pixie cut styled hair (it's gone through some things🥲) , dark brown eyes , pale olive complexion. I've been told that I'm flirty and "a bro" from my friends . Despite being flirty I can't commit for the life of me nor do I catch feelings like at all , but I gladly give out genuine compliments. Like most I'm shy at first but if I like you I'm a feral gremlin. I'm down to earth , what you see is what you get , very laid back and go with the flow in the outside , inside though I believe everyone hates me and I'm going over everything bad thing that could happen. I have insomnia and chronic depression . So I'm a sleepy type . Love games , tattoos , skulls , art ,makeup, nature and sometimes going out with the right people . I'm told I'm great to hug and I have a calming presence. I'm planning on being a tattoo artist while helping animals on the side Hope that's enough or not too much 😅 have a great week love ❤️

Send the tattoo design!! I looooove tattoos and I would be so happy to see the design! I hope you enjoy this and your tattoo journey goes well!

I match you with… Jeff the Killer!

Jeff loves how you’re down to earth and you have the “bro” attitude. He finds it easy to connect with you that way. When you guys hang out he almost finds comfort in the way you act.

He enjoys that he can do pretty much whatever he wants around you and you don’t give him shit for it. Anyone else in the mansion always has some sort of issue with him. But you, no such thing as issues.

Honestly most of the time you’d join in his antics. He’s also quite the fan of how you’re down for any sort of mischief at any time seeing has he has very minimal friends. (let’s be honest, it’s really only Ben)

He doesn't mind that you don't catch feelings, honestly it's probably better that way. He's a literal psychopath killer anyways so it's definitely for the best.

DON'T GIVE THE MAN COMPLIMENTS‼️

He already has an ego through the fucking roof because of Nina and her compliments... You make it 100000x worse. Every time you give him even a single word of praise, he'll go on and on about it for WEEKS. He won't let that shit go. You told him that he looked good? He'll remember that when he hasn't showered in 12 days. 💀

When you two finally get close (which will take a bit since dude isn't the most trusting) and he finally hears about your insecurities and fears, he'll more than likely listen while he's doing absent minded tasks like cleaning his knife or actually making a fucking meal for once

He probably wouldn't be able to offer much help considering he's insecure himself (exactly why he inflates his ego so much). But he'd stand by you and try his best to reassure you that you're probably one of the most liked creeps around. At least you're much more well liked than he is. He'll always bring that part up.

Aaaand he’s not a sleeper at all, and honestly he'd probably get bored waiting around for you to actually fall asleep. But in the long run, his sleep schedule will improve because of you. It would take a bit to get to him actually telling you he enjoys it, but even through all the lies you can tell he's happy

He's definitely the kind to ask you to draw on him. He'd probably make you design a sleeve for him as well. He'll be picky as fuck though, so patience is needed.

And honestly, he loves your calming presence and how you can be his rock if he actually decides to open up. But once again he absolutely loves your willingness to cause chaos as well.

I hope this fits and it was enjoyable to read! Thank you for the ask!! <3

[chestnut-trotter]

Victuals

Backstory for my oc Tom and how he got caught up in the world of vampires.

[art by me :3 pls follow my art account @acidic-chestnuts]

The rhythmic clinking of metal cutlery against ceramic filled the room. A warm glow from the various candles lit up the table the Claytons were sat at as they had their dinner. Thomas and his sister Olive were silent, because as long as their father was home, they were not permitted to speak unless spoken to. 

‘Harriet next door still can’t find her two boys. It’s almost been three months now… poor thing.’ their mother said. 

‘They’re not the only ones who’ve disappeared. Every week there’s a new headline reportin’ more missin’ persons,’ their father paused to put more food in his mouth, chewing as he spoke up again ‘and all them mutilated bodies they keep findin’.’ 

‘Kate heard it’s vampires.’ 

‘Don’t be daft woman! Vampires don’t exist.’ 

‘What else would it be?’ 

‘Psychopaths. Cultists. Somethin’ real.’  

‘But you don’t know they’re not real. Kate said-’ 

‘Marie!’ he snapped, shooting a sharp glare at his wife. ‘Stop fillin’ our children’s heads with such nonsense.’ Their mother quickly shrunk into her seat, focusing intently on the food on her plate as she shuffled it around. Thomas knew that his father was right – vampires did not exist. They were just a bedtime story told to scare kids. Thomas was not a kid anymore; he was 15 years old. His younger sister Olive on the other hand, she was sweet and more innocent than most. He glanced to his right, noticing her trembling hands and empty stare.  

Thomas frowned. 

After the children were excused from the table, they shuffled obediently to their bedroom. Thomas could see his breath in front of him illuminated by the moonlight from the large window in their room, before disappearing. His body shivered violently, reminding him that the warmth from their dinner was slowly wearing off. Thomas desperately wanted to hide under the blankets on his bed and just sleep.  

‘Tommy?’, Olive’s meek voice quickly caught his attention, who sat shivering on the edge of her own bed. ‘I’m- I’m scared.’ 

‘Ah, it’s no’ them vampires, is it?’  

Olive only nodded silently in response; her eyes downcast at her fidgeting fingers. Thomas sighed quietly to himself as he walked over to his sister. He sat down on the bed next to her, its frame creaking painfully under the weight. 

‘Ya’know, vampires aren’t real, right? They can’t hurt ya.’ 

‘But Mother said-’ 

‘Yeah, I know what she said… Bu’ Father says they aren’t, so they aren’t. He’s never wrong.’  

Olive hummed half-heartedly in response, still not convinced. ‘Fletcher at school says he’s seen one before. He says he saw it kill a stray cat.’ 

‘Fletcher’s full o’ shit.’

Shit. Thomas overheard his father use it once when talking about his boss at work. He was not sure exactly what it meant, but he knew his mother would scold him for saying it. ‘Listen, ya’know I’ll protect ya. \Whether they’re vampires or no’, I’ll keep ya safe.’ 

She grinned at that, throwing her arms around Thomas’ bony frame, and burrowing into his chest. ‘Thanks Tommy! You’re the best.’ When Olive pulled away, Thomas tousled her hair and smiled down at her. 

‘Now, ‘urry up an’ go to sleep. Father will yell at us if we don’t.’ Thomas said, standing up from his sister’s bed and heading back to his own.  

Olive nodded in agreement, crawling under the mountain of woollen blankets on her bed. Her bright eyes now peering at Thomas from under the covers. ‘Good night.’ 

‘Nigh’, Olive.’ 

A strangled cry abruptly woke Thomas from his slumber. His eyes snaped open and his heart began to race. He sat up, peering into the darkness, trying to find his sister in her bed next to his. But clouds had now shrouded the night sky, swallowing the light of the full moon. He hoped it was nothing. That everything was okay and that he could just ignore it and go back to sleep. But another scream flooded his ears, quickly followed by a loud thump – it was nearby. Way too close for comfort. 

‘Tommy...? What was that?’ Olive’s voice was as timid as a mouse. Thomas released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. At least Olive was still okay.  

‘I- I don’t know.’ Completely blind, he swung his legs over the side of his bed and fumbled around for their bedside table in search of matches. Once his hands found the small box, he swiped it and slid it open. Pulling a matchstick out, he scratched it against the side of the box, once, twice, then finally on the third go, it lit with a sharp flash. Now able to see in front of him somewhat, he lit the wick of the candle and shook the flame out on the matchstick. 

‘Tommy?’ 

‘I’m gonna go have a look. It’s- it’s probably nothing.’ Thomas said, forcing a smile onto his face. He draped one of his many blankets over his shoulders before standing up. Grabbing the candle by the chamberstick it sat in, he walked over to his sister to tousle her hair. This close to her, he could see fresh tears glistening in the light of the candle. ‘Jus’ stay here. Everything will be okay… promise.’ 

Thomas wanted to believe that everything would be okay. But he was having such a hard time convincing himself of this fact, that when he tried comforting Olive, the words felt heavy and foreign as they left his mouth. 

Swallowing hard, he took a shaky step to leave the safety of their bedroom. As he approached the door, he stopped. Thomas’ head was screaming at him to tell Olive to hide under the bed or open their window and run to one of their neighbours to ask for help. But he just couldn’t bring himself say anything that would insinuate they were in any danger. Especially not after telling her that everything would be okay.  

Biting his lip, Thomas turned around one last time to look at his sister in the dim glow of the candle. Her eyes were wide and brimmed with tears, like she was silently pleading him not to go and leave her alone. ‘Please come back safe, Tommy.’ 

‘O’ course.’ 

With shaky hands Thomas opened the door, being careful not to let it creak. Then, he slipped into the hallway, closing the door behind him, and leaving his sister all alone in the darkness. 

It was eerily quiet. Thomas hated it. The hall looked a lot deeper than he remembered it being. The flame from the candle danced, creating figures that crept along the walls in the corners of Thomas’ eyes. The hairs on the nape of his neck stood on end. He silently begged his heart to stop beating so loud.  

‘Man up.’ Thomas repeated his father’s words, willing himself forward. He scanned his surroundings as he treaded careful steps down the hall. He noticed the ajar door to his parents’ bedroom. Were they okay? Had his father left to check what the noise was too?  

Thomas approached their room when a strong smell assaulted his nose. It hung in the air and felt sticky and left a metallic taste in his mouth. He gagged. 

Thomas reached out and slowly pushed the door open. Before him were two bodies sprawled out on the bed. Red splattered all over the room. Then a pair of glowing eyes appeared, glaring at him from within the dark. Before Thomas even knew what was happening, he had been slammed against the wall behind him, a cold hand pinning him there by the neck. The chamberstick he had been holding now rattled on the floor as it spun on the spot, wick still lit. Without a light in his hands, Thomas couldn’t see the intruder’s face very well. Except for their eyes that blazed like embers in a fire.  

‘What did I say about being swift? One of the brats are up.’ Despite the intruder staring daggers through Thomas, he knew that he was not addressing him when he spoke. 

‘Why’s it matter? We were gonna kill em after anyways.’ A thick cockney voice responded from somewhere Thomas could not see.  

The intruder’s grip on Thomas’ neck tightened as his head snapped around to address the other voice. ‘Imbecile.’ Now facing the candle’s light, he could see the intruder’s long fangs, bared in a snarl. ‘They could have escaped. Scampered away like the last lot.’ 

‘So what? We caught em anyways-’ 

‘I caught them, no thanks to you. Just shut up and go get the other one.’  

The source of the other voice stepped out from the bedroom. Around his mouth was a dark red liquid, dripping down his chin and onto the front of his shirt. The sight made Thomas’ stomach churn. ‘If you’re so clever, then why don’t I take the one you’re holdin’ and you find the other kid.’ 

‘Because I’ve already caught this one. It’s my prey. Get your own… And for the last time, Brutus, don’t make such a mess when you eat. It’s revolting.’ 

The one called Brutus nonchalantly wiped his face with the back of his hand. He eyed Thomas up and down before trudging down the hall towards the siblings’ shared bedroom. Thomas’ heart almost burst out of his chest. His thoughts went to his sister, who he had left all alone, waiting for him. 

It was then that something snapped in Thomas. He had been a passive observer, frozen from shock. What was he doing, just standing there watching everything unfold? He needed to do something quick. He promised he would protect Olive. 

‘Wa- Wait! Leave her alone- Ack!’ Thomas barely managed to choke any words out before the intruder holding him pushed him further up the wall. Thomas was now at eye level with the intruder. His feet lamely thrashed about above the floor. 

‘Know your place, brat.’  

Thomas’ chest grew tighter. He clawed desperately at the hand clamped around his throat. Tears blurred his vision. His head grew heavy. Then like a cat playing with its food, the intruder released his grip on Thomas, letting him fall limp to the ground. As Thomas struggled to catch his breath, a shrill scream echoed through the house.  

Olive. 

The world was spinning. Thomas tried to stand up, only for the intruder to stomp his heeled boot into Thomas’ hand. He cried out in agony. Thomas tried to pry the intruder’s foot off his hand. He punched and pulled with what strength he had left but nothing was working. The intruder then knelt down to where Thomas lay crumpled on the floor.  

‘Get off-a me.’ 

A cruel grin was etched into the intruder’s face. His fingers clasped Thomas’ chin between his index and thumb, turning his head this way and that, inspecting him as though he were a great artefact. 

‘P-please… please let me go.’ 

Ignoring Thomas’ pleas, the intruder spoke. ‘This won’t do. No… This just won’t do at all. You’re too nice to just throw away like your ratbag parents. I’m surprised Brutus could stomach their filthy blood. I know his standards are low, but I didn’t think they were that low.’ 

‘You… ate… ‘em?’ 

‘Don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t touch them.’ he paused, a mischievous glint in his eyes. ‘Brutus did.’  

Thomas felt hot tears run down his face. Everything had been happening so fast that he had almost forgot about his parents. The stark reality quicky set in; they were dead, and his sister was next. What had he done? He left Olive alone to be eaten by these monsters. He should have just told her to run. Run and not look back.  

‘Why?’  

‘Why?’ The intruder chuckled, ‘Because livestock are a vampire’s victuals.’ 

‘Victor? Why’s that kid not dead yet?’ Brutus was back. He stood behind Victor, licking his fingers clean and smacking his lips like a child. Victor groaned, finally releasing Thomas’ face as he stood up to address his partner. 

‘I’ve decided I’m keeping it.’ 

‘Another one? Why? You’ve got a bunch o’ pets at home. Jus’ let me-’ 

‘Where’s Olive? What ‘ave you done with my sister?’ Thomas knew the answer already, deep down. But he wasn’t ready to admit it yet. He wasn’t ready to accept the fact that it was his fault his sister was dead. 

‘Your pet’s got some attitude, talkin’ to me like that.’ Brutus spat on the ground, earning a grimace from Victor. 

‘He’ll learn some respect in due time. Now,’ Victor clapped his hands together, smiling down at Thomas, ‘I say it’s time we head home with my new pet. It’s been a long night.’ 

[distopea]

What are the trends when it comes to writing that you adore? How do you create an OC? What are your steps for developing an OC? What are rare-pairs that you’re passionate about?

@royaletiquette

Questions for the mun. A series of questions for the mun / the person behind the muse(s)

What are the trends when it comes to writing that you adore?

Honestly, none, really? I used to be a sucker for trends whenever I was evolving on other websites, but at some point, I figured that I was mostly following something that I wouldn’t have engaged with if it wasn’t for a matter of “fitting in”. In the end, I sometimes appreciate being in the same mood for memes and such with fellow mutuals, but otherwise, I appreciate following my own path and having fun with my own writing. 

I do believe I’m very much happier now! 

How do you create an OC?

It’s a spiritual experience for real. I grasp an idea, and then at some point, my OC naturally nests inside my mind (Oliver: I want to make an escort with some health condition, Vex: why not having a psychopath cyborg killing everyone?). I’m sometimes very surprised with how quickly they can pop, it feels like I put some corn in a pan, and BAM there’s something just jumping in the air and I have a new baby. Most of the time, I just experience the urge of exploring either a personality or a topic, I’m thrilled by the potential, and at some point, there’s something finding their own name and appearance just coming there. 

And I’m even happier to feel that they just stay. 

What are your steps for developing an OC?

I think my OC are never reaching the end of their development, and I’m able to explore more of their various traits and tempers through the plots and writing I have with people. I have their character overall, but they only truly exist when they eventually talk, move, have some actions. 

I guess the complexity that I want to explore results in how one person, with a determined personality, can evolve and morph thanks to another being. Toxic people then can have a rather softer side, and gentle muses can develop something utterly mean. Also, I guess those interactions help me exploring their psyche, hence why you see some headcanons popping here and there, even if some of them are truly stupid ! 

What are rare-pairs that you’re passionate about?

Rare-pairs mmmh... Tough topic! I have been lucky to explore a lot of topics I couldn’t before, such as childhood friends developing a toxic obsession, or a mutual pining that would end up in something more bitter because of terrible actions. 

I’d love to explore darker topics sometimes, perhaps how lovers could turn into enemies, how jealousy and toxicity could eventually destroy a good relationship, one side loves, true partner in crimes, manipulation? After all I’m a sucker for mature and complex relationships! In the end, there are so many things I haven’t written yet! I do guess that even a simple pair could become such a canvas of many things! 

[zyafics]

“Do you need help?” you ask, but you step back, your actions mismatching your words. You put distance between you for his comfort. Not yours. “No.” His head is in splitting pain. He hasn’t accepted help in years and he’s not starting now.

i love the heartache already!! also his characterization is so so strong!!

This is how your conversations with him always go. You extend an olive branch. He snaps it in half.

grumpy x sunshine energy!!!

If it were up to you, it wouldn’t be like this. You’d still be friends. But he has his group of buddies who he drinks and smokes with and to him, they’re enough and you’re not.

break my heart while ur at it 🥹 she doesn’t think she’s enough? STOP

Rafe turns off the faucet, heart racing from the coke and the adrenaline of winning a fight. It all started because some guy looked at him wrong. That was enough for Rafe to start swinging.

firstly, love the transition. secondly, hot.

Admittedly, letting out his aggression is a thrill. It’s his comfort zone. When he surrounds himself with chaos, it distracts him from the voices howling in his mind.

you’re INSANE ur characterization of rafe is so on-point!!

Maybe it’s because of the desperation in your glossy eyes. Or because you both once knew how to make the other feel better. Or because you chose him to help, when he’s used to never being chosen by anyone for anything. But he decides to hear you out.

enough said

Rafe can’t remember the last time he was touched like this. It’s like a reprieve from the rush he’s always in, slowing him down.

i love this series already simply because i can tell the emotional pull is so strong and is going to HURT my heart (in a good way)

Even after the years of hostility between you, somehow, you uncover a soft spot that Rafe didn’t know he had. He hates that this asshole is scaring you.

yuhhh rafe take care of me 🫶🏻

Rafe scoffs. He figures it’s better to be feared, to be seen as a psycho, instead of the loser he knows he is.

again, just had to highlight the characterization of him!!

Rafe clenches his fist beneath the table. It may be hypocritical to be so angry at another man for being cruel to you when all he’s done for years is end every conversation you’ve tried to start with him. But Rafe has never claimed to reasonable.

my psychopath 😌

Rafe tries not to think about it. This is exactly why he shut you out. You remind him too much of the last time he was happy. Before life became unbearable and before he was left with the parent who doesn’t love him. Thinking about those days feels like trying to fall back asleep into a good dream, all while knowing he’ll plummet into a nightmare.

formatting on phone is ASS, but bangers thrown left and right!! needed to highlight them 😁😌

───────── ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ──────────

🤍 final thoughts i’m always in awe of ur writing but u blow it out the park every single time. it’s so admirable and inspiring!!! u descriptions are so vivid but doesn’t require too much words. ur transitions are seamless (wish i could be doing it like u) and the way u paint the story flows so naturally. i always hype u up about ur dialogues so that goes without saying. but genuinely? i wish there was a highlight feature because there’s so many good lines i want to remember and come back to! 💙 this is something i gotta reread because i can feel the emotional journey and angst coming up 😭 ily nadia 😌🫶🏻

───────── ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ──────────

home before dark (part one)

pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary as children, you and rafe were best friends, but then tragedy suddenly struck his family and he shut everybody out. years later, you need his help when a pushy ex-boyfriend won’t leave you alone. rafe is perfect for the job because everybody’s afraid of him. except for you.

content warnings stalker ex, violence, substance abuse, death and mourning of parent

» masterlist

· · ── ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ── · ·

You’ve been looking at your reflection for five minutes now, eyes rimmed red from crying. Muffled, bass-heavy music is echoing from the front of the house.

You’ll do anything to delay going back out there. Even if it means standing still in the bathroom, trying and failing to stop tears.

Parties at Tannyhill always bring in massive crowds, yet your ex-boyfriend still managed to find you in the sea of people. You slipped away and have been hiding since, the anxiety of seeing him again crushing you.

Thankfully, you know your way around the estate. It was once like your second home.

As an only child, you latched onto the Cameron siblings the second you met them. You had just moved to Kildare, your dad having been an old college friend of Ward’s.

You practically grew up with them. You’re still close with Sarah. And even though Wheezie was only four when they lost their mother, she seems to find comfort in you always being around.

But your once best friend, who you’re merely weeks apart from in age, was transformed by the grief. Rafe is a stranger now. And you can tell that he loathes being around you.

When the door is roughly pushed open, the knob slamming against the wall, your heart lurches, overtaken by the sharp fear that Ty has found you.

But it’s Rafe, his hair hanging over his forehead and his nose dripping with blood, shattering your solitude.

He meets your eyes for just a second and looks away as soon as he sees it’s you. Like always. He never makes eye contact with you for very long.

“You’re bleeding,” you say quietly.

“No shit,” he mutters.

He barges past you to the sink, spitting crimson blood onto the porcelain. He’s hunched over the counter, panting, pissed off that you’re still standing there. Still lingering.

You’re always around. A constant reminder.

“Do you need help?” you ask, but you step back, your actions mismatching your words. You put distance between you for his comfort. Not yours.

“No.” His head is in splitting pain. He hasn’t accepted help in years and he’s not starting now.

This is how your conversations with him always go. You extend an olive branch. He snaps it in half.

You were both ten years old when the sweet boy you knew started hating the world and everyone in it. You had a front row seat to the tragedy that broke Rafe Cameron, a mama’s boy who suddenly lost the person he loved most.

But no matter what he does or says to you, you can’t hate Rafe back. After the accident that took his mother’s life, the compassion you harbor for him won’t let you.

While you definitely don’t like the person he’s become, a man so cold and aggressive, you couldn’t hate him if you tried.

You look at your reflections, side by side. You were once kids playing on the beach together, but in the mirror stands a bloodied cokehead next to a tearful mess, living in another summer of seeing each other everywhere and never speaking.

If it were up to you, it wouldn’t be like this. You’d still be friends. But he has his group of buddies who he drinks and smokes with and to him, they’re enough and you’re not.

Rafe looks up from his contorted position, the water rushing out of the faucet loudly. Frustration rises in him when he sees your silhouette in the mirror. He focuses on the edge of the sink, refusing to meet your eyes.

“You’re still here?” he snaps.

You’re used to the disheartening sight of a high and injured Rafe. He snorts lines and brawls at almost every party. Everyone calls him a psycho behind his back.

You want to ask what happened, but you know he’ll brush you off like he always does. You leave the room, determined to escape the party and go home. It’s past midnight anyway.

You’re nearly out the front door when frigid fingers wrap around your forearm. Your blood runs cold as you twist to see Ty, his eyes fixed on you.

“Did you block me?” he asks, the smile that once charmed you now making you sick. You look around at the crowds of partygoers as if someone can save you.

He’s still refusing to accept that you broke up with him a week ago. It was annoying at first. But now, it’s scary. He won’t leave you alone.

He texted you so many times over the last few days, going back and forth between calling you a waste of time and apologizing and begging to see you, that you had to block him.

After a few months together, you realized he wasn’t as nice of a person as he liked to pretend to be. Slowly, who he really is seeped in, unveiling a cruel and controlling brute.

“Of course I did,” you say. “I told you to stop texting me. I’m not your girlfriend anymore.”

“You’re not thinking straight,” Ty scoffs. “It can’t just be over.”

“Yes, it can,” you say, straining out of his grip. You had told him over and over that if he wasn’t going to stop disrespecting you, you’d leave. He kept apologizing, saying every outburst was a one-time thing, just to put you through the same pain again.

“Are you going home?” he asks.

You wish he didn’t know that your parents are on a business trip and will be gone for the next couple of weeks. Regrettably, he’s aware you’ll be sleeping in an empty house for the next while.

“No,” you lie.

“Then let’s get a drink and talk about this,” he says sternly. “Unless you’re with some other guy now and that’s why you tried to break up with me?”

Could that be the only way he’ll leave you alone? You try not to shrink under his gaze, a heartless, eerie abyss. The fact that he says you tried to break up with him tells you he still isn’t accepting that the relationship is over.

“I broke up with you because you treated me like shit,” you say. Your heartbeat is loud and your breaths are shallow and in a split second, you decide to lie as an act of survival. “But yeah, I am with someone else now.”

Rafe turns off the faucet, heart racing from the coke and the adrenaline of winning a fight. It all started because some guy looked at him wrong. That was enough for Rafe to start swinging.

Admittedly, letting out his aggression is a thrill. It’s his comfort zone. When he surrounds himself with chaos, it distracts him from the voices howling in his mind.

Life is nothing but a sick game of tag, and he’s been running away from reality and towards disorder for years.

Rafe’s nose is still throbbing from the only punch the other guy managed to get in when he heads back into the throws of the party.

He’s filling up a solo cup in the dining room when your eyes meet his. He can’t look away this time. You’re rushing towards him, fear written into your features.

Once you hastily close the distance, leaving mere inches between you, Rafe can see you’ve been crying.

“Hey,” you say over the music, overwhelmingly grateful that you finally found him after frantically rippling through the crowds. “Can you help me? Please?”

Maybe it’s because of the desperation in your glossy eyes. Or because you both once knew how to make the other feel better. Or because you chose him to help, when he’s used to never being chosen by anyone for anything. But he decides to hear you out.

“What?” he mutters, hollow blue eyes searching your face. Rafe’s brooding, all cleaned up now, the blood wiped away.

You look over your shoulder, your chest rising and falling at full tilt, then face him again.

“My ex is following me,” you say. “Can you pretend to be my boyfriend?”

“What?” Rafe’s mouth is twined in irritation. Of all the guys to use to make your ex jealous, you pick him?

“Rafe, please,” you say hurriedly.

You turn to see Ty, his eyebrows raised in clear surprise. After you talked to him by the front door, you rushed away, feeling his looming presence trailing after you.

You face your ex, standing beside Rafe with your hand curling around his hard bicep, finding unexpected relief in holding him. It’s jarring touching him after years of distance.

Rafe can’t remember the last time he was touched like this. It’s like a reprieve from the rush he’s always in, slowing him down.

Ty shoves his way through groups of people, his face carved with anger.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” he shouts over the music, eyes darting between you two. Rafe recognizes him. He’s seen you together at parties and the country club. This guy is just another Kook who gets shit-faced every chance he gets.

“Leave me alone, Ty,” you say.

“You’re with him?” he mutters with a laugh.

“Yeah, I am,” you say, tone shaky, praying Rafe plays along. He catches the brittle waver in your words.

“You can’t be serious,” Ty says. “That was fast.”

He steps forward and you find yourself cowering behind Rafe, who instinctually straightens up.

When Rafe realizes your hand is trembling, something in him twists. You’re not trying to make this guy jealous. You’re afraid of him.

Even after the years of hostility between you, somehow, you uncover a soft spot that Rafe didn’t know he had. He hates that this asshole is scaring you.

“Get out,” Rafe says to your ex, his deep voice sending relief through you.

Ty’s eyes dart to Rafe before his gaze is on you again.

“Really?” he ridicules you. “The guy you always call a psycho?”

Rafe’s arm flexes beneath your hand.

It’s a lie. People talk shit about Rafe, but you have never uttered a bad word about him to anyone.

“I never said that,” you retaliate.

“Just come outside so we can talk,” Ty says, his voice dripping with anger.

“Whose fucking house do you think this is, bitch?” Rafe shouts, roughly shoving Ty’s shoulder. “I told you to get out.”

You see fear on your ex’s face for the first time in your life. Your instincts were right to push you to run to Rafe. Everyone’s afraid of him.

“Chill,” Ty says with a forced smile, palms up in surrender. You’re sure he’s thinking of all the brawls he’s witnessed at these parties. Rafe might get roughed up, but he hardly ever loses a fight.

“Go,” Rafe sneers.

“I - I am,” Ty stammers. He meets your gaze one last time before he flees, his lips thinning in anger. Dread surges through you. You can tell you’re not rid of him.

Awkward tension settles between you and Rafe. He turns to look down at you, eyes flitting to your hand still on his arm. You let go.

Of the entire fervid exchange, what blares in your mind the loudest is Ty’s lie.

“I never said that about you,” you say.

Rafe scoffs. He figures it’s better to be feared, to be seen as a psycho, instead of the loser he knows he is.

“I don’t give a shit,” Rafe mutters, although, for whatever reason, he feels a piece of him caring what you think about him. He shifts to continue filling his cup with beer, pissed off and disoriented.

“He lied,” you tell him, stepping to the side to meet Rafe’s eyes again. You need him to know.

“Got it,” he says carelessly. He dips his head back as he downs his drink.

“Listen, I’m sorry to drag you into this, okay?” you say. “I don’t know what to do. He won’t leave me alone.”

He stills. Talking to you is hard. The fact that you’re still kind to him makes it harder.

But you’re so clearly terrified. Maybe he owes this to you. Everyone else wrote him off, but you, for whatever reason, still treat him with a gentleness he knows he doesn’t deserve.

“If he bothers you again…” Rafe says. He doesn’t finish the sentence, but you don’t need him to. This is his way of telling you he’ll protect you.

You stare at his hardened features. You always felt like grew up with Rafe from a distance. You know him in snapshots.

The ten-year-old who made small footprints next to yours in the sand. The seventh grader who got into so many fights that rumors of expulsion circulated around school. The high schooler who didn’t care to hide that he was doing lines at every party.

And now, he’s the man towering over you, drugged up, throwing punches every chance he gets, agreeing to pretend to be your boyfriend.

The fact that he’s willing to put on this charade for your safety makes you think that maybe there is a soft part of Rafe left somewhere deep inside. A part of the boy he once was.

“Thank you,” you say. You’re sure he won’t want to carry on the conversation, so you step away before he takes back his offer.

You find Sarah and ask if you can crash in her room tonight, knowing she’ll say yes. The thought of going to your empty house is too daunting.

The next morning, you’re sitting in the large kitchen of the Camerons’ estate, wearing last night’s clothes. You stare out the window, wishing your anxiety didn’t keep you awake last night.

You slept a couple of broken hours next to Sarah, thoughts of your ex and what he might be capable of rushing through your mind.

You’re not sure what to do next. In a normal world, you’d spend your summer partying and having fun with friends and enjoying your lack of a schedule. But things aren’t normal right now.

You’re desperate to shower and get into clean clothes and simply exist in the comfort of your home.

When Rafe sees you sitting in the kitchen, sunlight spilling over the planes of your face, he does something he never saw himself doing again. He approaches you, instead of running away.

Footsteps pull you out of your daze. You meet Rafe’s tired eyes. He doesn’t look away this time and it makes hope bloom in your chest.

He settles on the other side of the table, across from you, tensely raking his hair back. He doesn’t say anything, words trapped in his throat.

“You’re up early,” you say to break the silence.

Tonight was one of many sleepovers you’ve had here. Even though you and Rafe don’t speak much, you’ve puttered around the house enough to have noticed his habits, one of them being that he typically wakes up well into the afternoon the day after a party.

But Rafe wants to cut through the bullshit of small talk. He can’t get how scared you looked last night out of his head. And he won’t admit that it’s the reason he wasn’t able to fall back asleep when the brightness of the sun woke him up this morning.

“Did he ever put his hands on you?” he finally asks, voice low. He braces himself for the answer. He doesn’t know how he’ll take it if you were getting hurt while he was always close by, ignoring you.

“No,” you say. The thought sends a chill through you. “He got… mean. And controlling. Or I guess he was always like that, but he hid it at the beginning. Maybe he would’ve eventually started hurting me. I don’t know.”

Rafe clenches his fist beneath the table. It may be hypocritical to be so angry at another man for being cruel to you when all he’s done for years is end every conversation you’ve tried to start with him. But Rafe has never claimed to reasonable.

“And he won’t leave you alone?” he recalls.

You shake your head no. Silence nestles between you, but this time, it doesn’t feel as uncomfortable.

Rafe’s eyes finds yours again, a shade of blue you can’t forget no matter how many times he’s averted his gaze.

“You scared of him?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you admit. The way your voice weakens puts Rafe even more on edge.

“You don’t have to be anymore,” he says. You exhale slowly, enveloped by a sense of security that you haven’t felt in a long time.

“He looked afraid last night,” you tell him. “When you pushed him, I mean. I’ve never seen him look like that.”

At least his anger was put to good use, Rafe thinks. It was actually worth something for once.

“Give me your phone,” he says.

You obey and watch him add himself into your contacts, a harsh reminder of the lack of a presence you have in his life. You don’t even have each other’s numbers. He texts himself your name.

“Call me if he bothers you,” he says. His promise to watch out for you is like a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, comforting you.

“Okay. Thank you.”

You realize this is the longest conversation you’ve held with him since before his mother passed. The day you heard the news, you came to this very house to offer your condolences.

You had knocked on Rafe’s closed bedroom door, telling him it was you and not his father, who you’d only seen be cruel to his eldest child.

Through the door, you promised him you’d do whatever he wanted. Cry together. Go down by the water. Talk. Or even just sit in silence. But all a ten-year-old Rafe offered you was a tearful go away, followed by years of avoiding you and brushing you off.

He hands back your phone and stands, walking away from you.

“Rafe?”

He turns to face you again, his hand on the kitchen counter.

“Could you follow me home?” you ask. “My parents are away and he knows it and… I just want to be sure he’s not waiting for me there.”

Rafe nods. You give him a grateful smile. He can’t return it.

Minutes later, his motorcycle roars as he tails your car down the street. Your house is only two blocks away from his. He couldn’t forget the way if he tried.

He visited your home with his family a few times as a kid, but most of your friendship was spent on the private beach behind his house, running around in the sand, your childish laughs tangling together in the salty air.

You used to bike to his house almost every summer day. He’d meet you by your gate, smiling so big his cheeks hurt, racing on your bikes to his house together. He would accompany you on the way back home, too, always making sure you got home before dark.

He realizes he always felt like he needed to watch out for you, even when he was just a scrawny ten-year-old.

Over the school year, you spent every recess together. Kids used to tease you about liking each other and he loved that you didn’t care because it made him feel like maybe you had a crush on him, too.

You two were inseparable. Until you weren’t.

Rafe tries not to think about it. This is exactly why he shut you out. You remind him too much of the last time he was happy. Before life became unbearable and before he was left with the parent who doesn’t love him.

Thinking about those days feels like trying to fall back asleep into a good dream, all while knowing he’ll plummet into a nightmare.

You pull into your driveway after getting through the remote-powered gate, parking right in front of the door. Rafe parks behind you, killing the engine and taking his helmet off.

He watches you step out of your car. You shield your eyes with your hand as you look at him, perched on his motorcycle in the bright morning sun, his helmet in his hands.

“I didn’t see his car on the street,” you say. “But I’m gonna make sure that the security system is armed.”

Rafe follows, stopping a few feet away from you as you unlock the door, on edge and ready to strike if he needs to.

You’re relieved to hear the familiar beeping that confirms the system is active and wasn’t triggered since the last time you were home. Rafe watches you disappear into the house to punch the code in.

“All good,” you say when you step back out through the front door. You face him as he stands on your doorstep, your chin tipped up to gaze at him.

“You said your parents aren’t here?” he asks. He’s frustrated that you’re alone.

“Away for work,” you say with a defeated shrug. You wish you’d broken up with Ty sooner so all they’d be close by during all this stress. “Some things never change.”

Rafe looks down and nods. He remembers how often your parents travelled, leaving you with his family or babysitters while they were away.

Birds chirp in the warm air surrounding you. You stare at Rafe now that you have the opportunity to, up close. There are some freckles and beauty spots you remember. Some that you don’t.

He’s strikingly handsome and you wonder if he knows it. If anyone has ever told him.

“Alright,” Rafe says, stepping back, his way of saying goodbye. He doesn’t look at you again as he paces away.

His mother used to have to call you both into the house multiple times to eat lunch when you’d play on the beach together. You’d have so much fun that you didn’t want to do anything to interrupt it.

But these days, Rafe can hardly wait to get away from you. And even though it’s comforting having him watching out for you, having a string tying you to him again, you wish his coldness didn’t still hurt as much as it does.

(to be continued)

author’s note thank you to @rafedaddy01 for this idea @diorjadore for this idea!!! ILYSM!!!

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

[araisbored]

The talk of the town. Because of Jacob Elordi's bath water.

Here’s my first movie review of 2024. Despite the fact that I watched it in the last days of 2023.

Girl, let me tell you that it was something. It was a trip. I enjoyed it. Even the nasty scenes that you guys are talking about. It was horrid, yes. Nonetheless it was a scene. In fact I thought it was vital to the MC’s character build up. Let me get this out of the way, I don’t LOVE that scene. But would I be disappointed if it was removed? No. Would I be happy if it was removed? No, too. It is there. And sure. It’s there. Is it vital for the character? Sure. Was it disgusting? Yes. It is a scene. And that's it.  

There are many things that I like about this film. It was fun in a sense. The cinematography is very good. I love how the camera pans and how it shows and it doesn’t show things. It was very intentional. I love the camera angles and framing. The opening title was so unique and beautiful. I also love the music used in this film. I love the symbolisms and easter eggs spread throughout this film. The combination of camera work and the symbolism is one of the most distinct combinations that you can see throughout this film. You can’t deny that this film was intended to be beautiful. Shouldn’t all films be intentionally beautiful?  Also I love the costume. Literally the costumes at the costume party  at one specific scene in the third act. It’s cute.

The actors are also something of a choice. I remember watching one of Trin’s reaction videos about this film where she said: 'if you ever thought of me being a perfect fit for the role of a twink psychopath… I would be offended.' And that’s the truth. But I can’t also picture anyone else playing Oliver. I can’t even imagine Timothy being Oliver, even though he was the first choice. The actor who plays Farleigh is also good. I would love to hear him sing the uncut version of that karaoke song. Rosamund Pike was undoubtedly a good actress. Venetia’s actress was also good. Although, I haven’t watched any of her past work. And of course, the white boy of the month, Jacob Elordi. I mean… whatever. Never get the hype around him but I heard he’s good in Precisilla. He had such an interesting filmography. And also a good actor. The cast that I was most surprised about was Aemond’s actor. Like holy shit. Not that he wasn’t good. HOTD memories are still very fresh to me so every time he popped up into the scene IJBOL.

Okay, so did I list the things I love about this film? Now let’s get into the things I don’t like about this film.

What I hated about this was the ending. It was very confusing for me. Not because I was stupid. Or the film doesn’t give us enough to be able to understand it. Actually, I felt like it gave almost all of it. It does the thinking for you. And yet, even with that sentiment, I was left unsatisfied with the way things ended. Don’t get me wrong,  I love the ending scene where Oliver dances with his shonglong out and about. For sure. That camera work alone was the cherry on top. But there’s a difference between liking the scene and not liking the ending. And I know you’re probably like: ‘We know, Ara. We’re not stupid. You don’t have to micro-explain everything to us.’ And that’s exactly what the movie did to me. See what I did there?

I don’t like the ending at all. I think it tries to be something it wasn’t established at first or what they try to market it as. Since the movie explains itself especially in the first two acts. It is so obvious that he’s an obsessed person. And I hope they just frame it that way. Not eat the rich kind of movie because if they want it to be that way they should establish that from the start. He is not the ‘eat the rich’ type of MC. He’s just a twink and extreme version of Joe from you. Sure, he wanted to ascend from the slums but it wasn’t his main drive. It’s just a desire. He is obsessed with Felix. And I hope they bite that part until the end. For a movie that doesn’t let you think about anything, it sure does leave a good amount of Whys for its viewers. And with so much explaining shown, why do we still need to question things? If that’s the thing. Isn’t that a problem with the story telling?

Maybe I just have high expectations with movies. But come on, I love stupid movies. The movie is fun, if it is fun to me. I’m not afraid to go against the public opinion. But when films like Parasite existed. And you try to somewhat follow or emulate that film’s theme. Shouldn’t we put more effort into our work? I don’t know, just my thoughts. 

If you made it to this part. Might as well follow me on my Letterboxd. I share most of my unsolicited opinions in a shorter paragraphs about film there. HERE!

[youvereachedthenearest-lovergirl]

let’s make fun of my writing together!

lmao just the first chapter of a story i started writing in 5th grade. ngl i actually tried on it and im thinking of just posting here so I can make fun of it with people

Bright lights filled my vision as I opened my eyes. I had no idea where I was. As I looked around, I could see strange machines surrounding me. Where was I? Where was my sister? All I remember was tackling my mother to the ground with a knife in my hand. I looked down at my hands and gasped. Blood covered them. It was thick and hot, although it was starting to crust over because it was drying. The curtains surrounding my bed were yanked open by a man in scrubs. My stare was icy cold as he walked toward me. 

“W-who are you?” I managed to croak out,”Where a-am I?”

He ignored me, and continued to walk my way. On his way over he grabbed a small metal object with spikes on each side. He flipped a switch and electricity cackled, ready to electrocute its victim. I don’t know how, or when, I started crying. It dripped down my face and eventually made its way to my chin. My heart pounded, and my body froze up. It was like someone had grabbed me by the shoulders and pinned me down to my bed. When he got to my bedside, he reached down. Sparks neared my bare flesh as I could feel myself heating up. The machine touched my skin, and everything went dark.  

~

~

~

~

I woke up in a cold sweat, panting and shivering. I guess it was just a nightmare, yet it felt so real. I could still remember the stinging pain in my arm, the doctor's cold hands gripping my bare wrist. I glanced at my small, homemade clock that stood in the corner of my room.  6:44. I glanced out my window and at the rising sun. Groaning in exhaustion, I pulled myself together and climbed out of my bed. I didn’t have school until 8:00 fortunately, which means I’ll have enough time to actually eat breakfast today. Sluggily, I moved downstairs and threw open the kitchen cabinets. I prepared myself a small plate of fresh raspberries and cereal, then made my way back to my bedroom and got dressed. 

Kingston Academy wasn’t normal, in fact, no one there was normal either. Luckily, we have no uniforms, or else everyone there would be dead by dawn. As I walked down the rickety path I could feel eyes burn holes on my back. I’m not exactly welcomed in town after what happened involving my mother. I was known as the psychopath of Otago. Fitting. Sometimes-when I would least expect it-I would stare at the countless rows of people lining the streets and imagine their deaths in imaginative and brutal ways. Snapping out of it, I ignored their stares and trudged on. I could see the three metal spokes peaking out above the tree line signaling I was nearing my destination. 

“You alright there mate? You caused quite a stir a few minutes ago, why don’t we walk together and you can explain why everyone watches you like you’re a madman, eh?” 

~ ~ ~ ~

~

His name was Oliver Wilson, 4 grades older than me. He was on the school soccer team. Popular, and most likely arrogant. What he wants from me? No idea! Honestly, the dude just doesn’t shut up, but he won’t tell me anything. 

“And I see you walking down the street and I’m li-” 

“Ok one, what do you want with me and two, if you don’t answer in five seconds you’re dead,” I deadpanned.

“Jesus christ! You sure are feisty,” he preached, staring down at me,”Honestly, I’m just curious why people seem to hate you so much. You seem nice enough.”

Nice? Really? I’m pretty sure no one I knew would call me “nice”, even if I were their friend. I looked up at him then noticed the time. I was late! Not that I cared, I skip school on a regular basis and no one seems to notice. I guess the case was different with ol’ Oliver here.

“Ugh, time really flies when I’m with an aggressive 14 year old girl. See ya, Dahlia!” he called as he raced down the dirt path. I chuckled for the first time in months and turned around, my desire to learn gone. 

The walk home felt longer than usual, more lonely. Marlene was supposed to call today, she had a falling out with her boyfriend, Patrick. The foul git. If I were there when it happened I would shove that fake blonde weave up his-. Well anyway, at least he’s gone. My sister would call me and explain all about the terrible things he did to her, and I would grow angrier by the second. My hands clenched into fists, and a flush rose to my cheeks. The same people I saw earlier watched me in fear, one teenage boy even shouting out,”Oh no everyone! Better watch out, the Psychopath of Otago is angry!” So he wants to see me mad? Bad idea buster. 

“Oi, shut it!” I announced, silencing his mocking tones. The crowd backed away as I walked toward the rebel. His eyes grew wide, and he started trembling. 

“Oh yeah?” he questioned,”Or what?”

My pupils darkened as he took a step forward. An inch, another inch, until we were nose to nose. I studied him carefully. Round, shiny nose. Dark curly hair. He would’ve been attractive if he wasn’t so annoying. I made the first hit,  colliding my right hand to his defined nose. His head snapped back, and he groaned in pain. We both stepped away and circled each other. I studied his movements carefully. His left hand was at the ready, signaling  he was a lefty. His nose was gushing blood, and the skin around it was flushed red. 

“Come on then, you asked for this, so come and get it,” I taunted, light on my feet. That must’ve erupted some type of fire in him, because when I was least expecting it, he rammed into my stomach. My body struggled for a gasp of air as his muscular arms encircled me. I managed to fight my way out of his iron grip and hook my foot around his ankle. Flipping him over, I grabbed the pocket knife I always kept on me. I leaned to the side of his head to whisper in his ear as I held the knife to his throat.

“Next time, pick a fight with someone you can handle.”

[midnightpsychos]

Because you are amazing and you deal with my shit and I just am excited about what we will do with Felix and Oliver

@everyoneisagame

You know I love you don’t you? You deal with my shit too, it’s what I’m hear for to be someone who you can talk to whenever you got a problem on your mind about something. So am I in all honesty - I can’t wait to develop our little psychopaths into something more. I love you so so much and you’re amazing yourself!! <3

[mythos-writes]

Hey can you write a peaky blinders fic where reader is tommy Shelby's daughter and she's super pretty and super dominant at the same time, like a 'girly girl' but could kill you in a matter of seconds, and she meets a boy, who is so soft and is basically a golden retriever, and she's like "i'm keeping him". But obviously she is peaky blinder and is doing jobs like blinding people who owe money, and the boy finds out like two months into the relationship (cause he's new to Birmingham) and he's like "I don't like you doing this cause I dont want you to get hurt" and she's like "I can't I need to do this for the family" but a couple weeks later she's about to finish the job but she feels guilty and asking is this this right, like for the first time she hesitates, and the other junior peaky blinders are like "what 🤨" and they end up finishing up for her, and later that night she tells her father about what happened and tommy wants her to breakup with him so that there no distractions and she reluctantly agreed and broke up with him, like a week later she's having one night stands with submissive and breedable ™️ men and ends up running into her ex with sex hair and heels in her hand and he's like super jealous and mad and yells at her asking if anything was real between them and she yells at him that the only reason was so that she can get over the love of her life and that it's useless to date someone tommy doesn't approve of and she links he deserves someone that isn't a murder psychopath and he tells her that he doesn't care what her father thinks and the fact that she's a peaky blinder and he only wants her anyways they say some sappy stuff and make up after awhile and all is right with the world also sorry that this is long also the boy loves to bake and has a cat named Oliver <3

Thomas Shelby x Daughter! Reader, OC Harold Patterson x Shelby daughter reader

Plot: (Y/N) is very similar to her father. Same personality, same smarts, etc. So when she meets someone who is completely opposite of anything she has done or represented. Tommy finds out and wants her to put an end to it…  [I changed the ending a little, but it keeps to the request.]

Word Count: 2772

Warning: Gif from Pinterest, swearing, drinking, smoking, angry Thomas Shelby, Peaky Blinders level of violence

(Y/N) was walking back from school on a cool afternoon in Birmingham. As she was walking to the Garrison, she runs into a larger body, dropping her school work onto the dirt roads. 

“Oi, watch where you’re going next time you git,” she yells out before she starts to pick up her things. She heard someone rush over and start to help her pick up her things. She is greeted with forest green eyes, freckled skin and gold-rimmed glasses. His long brown locks fall over his face, due to the wind. 

“Um, thank you,” she says, picking up the last of her things. 

“It’s no problem at all. I couldn’t just let a pretty girl like yourself do all that work,” he jokes a little. She giggles at his comment, her face warming up at the words. 

“You’re not from around here are you?” she questions, catching his accent, knowing it wasn’t a Birmingham or London accent. 

“No, I am actually from Edinburgh, Scotland,” he states. She smiles, letting the quiet between the two settle in the loud streets. 

“Harold Patterson,” he says, sticking his hand out to hers. She takes the gesture with the smile still plastered across her face. 

“(Y/N) Shelby. Nice to meet you, Mr. Patterson,” she says. “So what brings you to Birmingham?” she asks. Not a lot of people come to Birmingham out of the blue. 

“Oh, I came here looking for work, there wasn’t a lot back home,” he comments. She nods, fidgeting with her papers. 

“Do you want to continue this over tea?” he asks. This question catches her off guard, no one had ever asked her out on a date because they didn’t want to get on the bad side of Thomas Shelby.  

“Yeah, I would like that. I know a great spot that we can go to,” she suggests. Harold reaches his arm out so she can take it. 

“Lead the way.”   

It’s been a few months since (Y/N) and Harold secretly met, and Harold showed no sign of learning what her family does or is known for. So when she would have to go deal with ‘family emergencies’ Harold didn’t think anything at all. He trusted her, probably more than he should, but she also reciprocated his trust…to a point. 

That afternoon, she was walking with her uncle Finn and some of the younger blinders, sent to deal with some minor issues that had come up. They stood at the edge of an alley, waiting for their victim. 

“There he is,” Isaiah calls out, getting their attention. (Y/N) rolls her shoulders looking between the group. 

“Alright, let's get this over and done with,” she comments before ushering the boys to get him. As the boys pulled the man into the alleyway and were beating him up, Finn and she came in, making sure no one would interrupt their business. 

“You know why this is happening to you?” she questions the man, as he was being helped by Isaiah and another peaky boy. The man just groans out, not answering. She sighs before pulling out her gun, aiming it at his head. Normally she would pull the trigger with no hesitations at all. 

But she hesitated. 

She looked at the man and all she could think about was Harold. If he found out, what would he think? Would he break everything off? But her thoughts were halted by a gunshot. Finn finished the job. She cleared her throat, ignoring their stares. 

“If we are done here, I have a meeting to get to,” she says, placing her gun back into her thigh holster. Finn looked at her, before quickly following. 

“Are you ok? You never hesitate when it comes to jobs like this?” he asks. (Y/N) looked over to her uncle, not wanting to show any emotion. 

“I’m fine Uncle Finn, just a lot on my mind is all,” she replies. Finn stopped her and looked her in the eyes. She was just like Thomas, hiding her emotions, but she never hid them in her eyes. 

“You met someone?” he asks. She quickly covered his mouth, not wanting any nosy people to hear. He soften his gaze on her as she slowly removed her hand from his mouth. 

“How’d you meet?” he questions. 

“Some git ran into me, making me drop some school stuff and he came over and helped me, and then we just started from there,” she states, reminiscing of that faithful day. 

“And he knows who you are?” she shakes her head which causes Finn’s eyes to widen. 

“He had just moved here from Edinburgh, so he has no idea who the Shelby’s or the Peaky Blinders are,” she says, almost excitedly. Finn sighs before pulling out a smoke. 

“You know Tommy will find out,” he comments, she shakes her head. 

“Not unless you don’t say anything. she notes, taking his smoke away. Now, if you excuse me, I have someone to meet,” she states before walking away.  

She walked down to their normal meeting spot and saw him standing there. She smiles before making sure her cost was clear and started to run over to him. 

“Hey,” she calls out, getting Harold's attention. She sees some hesitance from the man in front of her. 

“Are you ok?” she asks. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Let's get going,” he rushes, grabbing her hand and starting their walk. It was quiet between the two as the sun starts to move to a late afternoon setting.

“So I saw something today,” Harold says as they walk down to the river. 

“Oh yeah, and what was that?” she asks. (Y/N) catches his nervousness and quickly held his hand. 

“Harold?” she asks. 

“I saw you and a group beat up some guys,” he states. (Y/N) felt her blood run cold. She never wanted him to find out what she did for her family, especially not now at the start of the relationship. 

“Harry, it isn’t what it looked like..” she tries to explain. 

“What do you do (Y/N) Shelby?! I care about too much to watch you have a chance of getting hurt!” Harold yells. This shocked her cause she had never heard him raise his voice before. 

“Well?” he pushes. She sighs, fidgeting with her ring. 

“Ever heard of the Peaky Blinders?” she asks. He paled at her words. 

“No, you don’t work for ‘em, do you?” he asks, worried that she had gotten herself into some debt with the gang. 

“No, no… um… my family runs the Peaky Blinders,” she states. He looks her over, before bringing her into a hastily embrace. The two falls onto the grass, Harold covering her body with his. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he questions. 

“When people find out who I am, they run for the hills or end up at the hands of the gang. I didn’t want to endanger you just because of my name,” she states. Harold admires her words before bringing her into a tender kiss. She moves her hands to his hair, gripping a good chunk of hair and shifting positions. (Y/N) straddle shim and deepens the kiss. She releases him from the kiss, and both their faces warm from the sudden affection. She smiles down at him, fixing his glasses that became a little crocked. 

“You’ll be the death of me,” she whispers. He smiles before bringing her into another kiss. 

"I'm fine with that," he murmurs against her lips.

(Y/N) walked back into Arrow House, and it was dead quiet. Her mind reeled from her meeting with Harold, making her rethink her future in the family business. Before she could make her way to her room, her father was standing by his office door, arms crossed across his suit-covered torso. He beckoned her to his office, without speaking a word.

“Sit,” Thomas orders. She quickly follows the order, watching her father’s actions. He finishes his whiskey. 

“A little birdy told me that you were seeing someone,” Thomas starts, sitting in his office chair. (Y/N) sitting across from him. 

“Yes, that’s correct,” she replies, fiddling with one of her rings. He lights a cigarette, watching his daughter’s actions. 

“And, who would this boy be?” he asks. (Y/N) gulps down her nerves before licking her dry lips. 

“His name is Harold. Harold Patterson. He had just moved to Birmingham from Edinburgh,” She says. Thomas looks her in her eye. 

“You need to end it,” he states before looking at some papers. 

“What?! Dad that’s not fair-” she starts but Thomas cuts her off.

“It end. NOW!” Thomas states, smoke flowing out of his mouth. (Y/N) stood her ground, not giving into her father’s intimidation. 

“No,” she defends. Thomas stops what he was doing and stared her down. 

“Excuse me?” “You heard me. No. I will not be ending my relations with Harry. He cares for me and I care for him,” she states. (Y/N) had never been nervous about standing up to her father, but she is not only risking herself this time, but she is also risking Harold's life too. 

“You really want to defy me,” he threatens. 

“If you keep threatening my happiness, then yes,” she defends. He rolls his eyes, taking another drag of his cigarette. 

“You will find someone else,” he comments. 

“No, I will only find people who fear me because of you and your gang,” she spits. “Harold doesn’t care who I am and what I do. He cares able me for being me. And you won’t be taking that away from me.” 

Thomas just look at her, shocked a little that his daughter would defend him so hard.

“Then leave,” he spits. This shocked her a little. 

“What?” “You said yourself, I am interfering with your happiness, so leave,” he repeats, his cold words sinking into her heart. 

“Fine, I will,” she states, walking out of his office to pack her things. Tears slowly fell down her cheek.   

Hours later, Thomas goes up to apologize, wanting to make amends with her, but when he gets to her room, it was empty. His heart drops. He didn’t think she was going to follow through with his words. 

“They left,” Finn’s voice breaks his rapid thoughts. 

“What?” he questions, facing his younger brother. 

“They left Birmingham. I saw the two at the train station,” he spits. Arthur then walked in on the conversation. 

“Who left?” he questions. Before Tommy could fill him in on anything, Finn cut him off. 

“(Y/N) left. She left Birmingham, by order of the great Thomas Shelby,” Finn spits. He never gets angry at Tommy that often but when it came to his niece, he was very protective. Arthur looked at his brother, shocked. 

   “Is that true?” he questions. Thomas just nods, not meeting his brother's gaze. 

“All she wanted was to be happy, and you couldn’t even give her that,” Finn bites one more time before leaving, not wanting to be around him.

~ 5 Years Later ~

“Thomas! Eliza! Come on suppers ready!” (Y/N) calls out to her children. They came running down the road to the house that sat on the outskirts of London. Harold and (Y/N) quickly moved away from Birmingham, away from her family and the Peaky Blinders. They cared for themselves, not wanting to worry about her father or people connected to him.

She placed made plates in front of her children and her husband, who had just come home from work in the city. He placed a kiss on her cheek before starting to eat the food she had prepared. 

“So how was everyone’s day?” she asked. 

“Tommy and I met someone,” Eliza says. 

“Oh yeah, and who might that be?” Harold asks. 

“He didn’t tell us his name, but, looked like someone from the pictures you have in your room,” Thomas says. (Y/N) stopped mid-bite, her eyes quickly meeting her husband. It couldn’t be who they thought. Before anyone could get a word in, a knock came upon their door. (Y/N) quickly got up and went towards the door. She saw the outline in the glass, she knew who it was. 

When she opened the door, she was greeted with the cold blue eyes of her father. She was shocked to see him standing there in front of her. She hadn’t seen him since the young couple fled the city.  

“What, not going to let your old man in?” he questions. (Y/N) quickly moved and let him in. He took off his hat, looking around the farmhouse that his daughter owned. He looked over to the kitchen to see two little heads popping out from behind the door. Harold quickly pulled them back into the kitchen, wanting them to finish their dinner. He made eye contact with his ‘father-in-law’ quickly before following his kids. 

“This way dad,” (Y/N) calls out, pulling Thomas’s attention back to her. He walked into the living room, seeing that it has been well lived in. He sat down in one of the chairs, while (Y/N) went to a small cabinet. 

“Do you want a drink?” she questions. 

“Yes, thank you,” he replies before getting handed a glass of whiskey. She had one herself and they just sat there in awkward silence.   

“How did you find me?” she questions, breaking the silence and jumping right into it. Thomas sighed, finishing off his drink quickly before answering.

“I always knew where you were,” he answered. This shocked her, knowing that her father had always known where she went. 

“I have men everywhere, they would keep me informed of your whereabouts,” he states. “But what they didn’t inform me about the two little ones that you two have,” (Y/N) gulped back her drink before looking at her father again. 

“I know who is a Peaky Blinder when I see one, and I may have threatened a few,” she states. Thomas gives a shallow chuckle before finishing his drink. 

“Still the same old (Y/N),” he says. 

“Would you like to meet them?” she questions. This shocked him but quickly agreed.  She smiled before getting up and walking out of the room. Thomas hadn’t been this nervous to meet someone before. He had met many scary and intimidating people before, but meeting his grandkids, scared him to hell and back. The sounds of little footsteps brought him back. He looked up to meet two little humans standing in front of their mother. 

“This is Thomas Arthur, and this is Eliza Ada. Your grandkids” (Y/N) introduces them. At the introduction of their names, his iced heart melted. Even when she wanted nothing to do with him, she still named her kids after him and her family. 

Thomas stood up and kneeled to their level. The two kids move back a little, nervous at the stranger in their house. (Y/N) placed a reassuring hand on their heads. They turned back to Thomas. Eliza moved first, coming closer to her grandfather. 

“Hello,” she says. Thomas gives her a small smile.

“Hello,” he replies. She then reached out and hugged him. This shocked both adults in the room. He then brought his arms around her small frame, enjoying the little hug from her. Little Tommy then moved and joined his sister in hugging him. (Y/N) felt tears well up in her eyes. Watching her kids meet her father was something that would never happen. 

Harold quietly moved beside her, wrapping his arms around her, watching the sweet moment between the kids. Thomas looked up and sent a smile to the two. He picked up the kids, causing them to let out surprised giggles. He let out a grunt but still held the kids. 

“Still got it,” he comments, causing (Y/N) to laugh. 

“Poll and Arthur would love to meet them,” he comments. (Y/N) nods, looking over to her husband. 

“We were thinking about visiting Birmingham for a week or so,” she states, seeing his eyes light up at the news. 

“You can stay at Arrow House with me,” he states. 

“Oh no, dad that won’t-” she tries to reason, but she is cut off by Thomas.

“Think of it as part of my apology. For once it seems that I was wrong,” he says while putting the kids down. She looks back to Harold, who gives her a small nod.  

“Then expect us sometime next week then,” she states with a smile. Thomas moved and brought his daughter into his embrace. 

“I’ve missed you so much poppet,” he whispers. 

“I’ve missed you too dad,” she whispers back. 

[mediocre-writerr]

safe and sound [jennifer jareau]

jennifer jareau x reader

requested by anon: Hi! I love your Criminal Minds fics and was wondering if I could make a request? Where JJ and reader are dating and it’s set during the season 7 finale where reader is the one who shot the robber and is the one who was taken instead of Will. JJ and reader reunite with a fluffy ending. 

*not my gif*

Kings and Queens. Jacks and Jokers. 

Sound familiar, right? When you hear that you think of the playing cards, not some bank robbers who have been robbing internationally. 

It was a bank robbery. Something that you have been reported to at least five times throughout your career, but this time it was different. The robbers known as the “Face Cards” have been robbing banks all over the DC area, only this time were you called onto the scene.

You and your partner Will were driving around on patrol when your police radio went off, “All units in the vicinity of Penn and Southeast, robbery in progress at Colonial Liberty Bank. Shots fired. Repeat, shots fired at the Colonial Liberty Bank. All units.”

Will and you looked at each other as you grabbed the radio, turning the steering wheel to make a U-turn, “426 responding,” 

Will flicked on the sirens as you started to pick up speed. The two of you finally parked on the side of the bank to prevent them from escaping through the side doors, “Better pull back and see if they respond-” Will was about to go on went a shot rang out and a bullet narrowly missed his head. 

“Shit! Cover!” you yelled. 

The two of you took behind the car as you fired at the man who tried shooting Will. The bullet ripping through the man’s shirt and through his shoulder. You watched as the other man began pulling him away from the door and back inside. 

You called for backup and not too long after JJ came running towards you, embracing you in a tight hug, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine, Will over here got pretty lucky,” you said with a smile on your face, patting his back. 

JJ scanned your face, her hands never leaving your cheeks. You grabbed a hold of her hands, pressing a kiss to the palm of them, “I’m okay, let’s just try catching these guys okay?” you whispered and she nodded letting out a sigh. 

Most of the day was spent talking to Chris as you all watched Oliver die. The only goal was to get the hostages out of there without anyone getting hurt, “No more feds. I want the cop who killed my brother,” you let out a sigh, placing your head in your hands.

You, Morgan, JJ, and Hotch all stood there in the van, “Well, I gotta go out there, don’t I?”

“No, absolutely not!” JJ exclaimed.

You looked at your girlfriend with a sad smile, “What other choice do we have?”

“Something! Anything else! They will shoot you the second you walk in, is that not running through your brain?!” she basically yelled.

Hotch and Morgan met your eyes and they took your face to give the two of you some space. Once they left, you looked at JJ and placed your hands on her waist.

She finally leaned in to your touch and placed her hands softly along your neck. You placed your forehead on hers as she sighed. You pressed your lips on hers, kissing her intensely. You wanted to show her how much you love her and care for her even if you’re about to run into a bank full of robbers who probably want you dead.

Once you pulled away, she noticed the determined look in your eyes, “No, no, no! You can’t do this! What about us? What about Henry?” 

“Four people are dead because I killed his brother,” I whispered. 

You pulled away from your short embrace, walking backwards towards the door of the van, “No please! Please don’t leave me!” she exclaimed, tears running down her face as she slid her back against the wall.

You wanted nothing more than to run up and hold her, but you knew that this needed to be done. So no one else could die for your mistakes. “I don’t have a choice baby,” you whispered again, “I love you and I love Henry. Remember that, always,” 

Hotch already knew what you were gonna choose, SWAT members hid behind the cop cars, already pointing their guns inside. You took a deep breath as you started to walk towards the bank. 

You could hear JJ’s screams as you slowly walked towards the bank, “Morgan! Let go of me! Y/N! Y/N stop!” 

You raised your hands up immediately, walking into the bank, “C’mon Chris, you got what you wanted. I’m here. Now please, let them go,” 

“You go,” Chris said, forcing a mom and her children out of there, “What’s your name?”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you told him. 

There was no response from him as he just shot you twice. The bullets firing echoing throughout the entire building and outside. JJ scrambled in Morgan’s arms, her bright blue eyes widening, “No!” 

The team sat there in the van with JJ. All eyeing her like she was about to just explode. One wrong word would just cause her to go crazy, “Where were they shot?” she asked. Garcia just stared at her unsure of what to say, “Where were they shot?!” 

“I don’t know,” Garcia muttered. 

JJ picked up the stack of papers that were lying next to her and threw them at the wall of the van. Smacking her hands down onto the cool metal. Everyone just stared in shock, unsure of whether you’re alive or dead.

Luckily, he didn’t go for the kill shot.

You laid there as you could feel your body going cold. Your shoulder was bleeding out and the hostages who were helping you started to get a little blurry. 

All you could think about was JJ and Henry. The way Henry would run up to you when you’d go over to their house and hug you tightly. 

Or the nights where both you and JJ were off, Henry would lie in the middle of you as a movie played. Eventually, Henry would fall asleep cuddled up next you. Then JJ’s lazy arm would wrap the both of you. Once you made sure they were both sleeping soundly, you’d wrap your arms around both of them safely and securely. 

“I need to cause a distraction while you guys get out of here,” you told the man, who was applying pressure to your wound, “But I need you to tell my girlfriend Jennifer and her son Henry that I love them so much and I’m sorry,” 

The rest of the time you spent at the bank was a little fuzzy. You were more focused on trying to get Chris to turn on the woman and trying not to pass out from blood loss, than anything else. 

Before you knew it there was an explosion and you were just getting pushed into a car. The whole car ride, you focused your breathing, trying your hardest to stay awake. 

The only thing keeping you going were JJ and Henry. What you would do just to hold them one last time. 

Your thoughts came to an abrupt stop when you arrived at a fire station. The fireman helped patched you up much to Izzy’s choice. You watched as she shot him multiple times before sneaking into the firehouse to grab you a change of clothes. 

“You didn’t have to kill him,” you muttered.

“He was a witness, he needed to go,” she shot back without an ounce of remorse. 

Then the next thing you know you were transported back to the car. Everything was going fine or well okay for being a hostage to two psychopaths. Until Izzy just started opening fire on Chris.

“Well Detective Y/L/N, take Chris out of the car and get in the passenger seat. We’re going on a little drive,” she told you, the gun pointed straight at you, “Stop here,” she muttered after a little bit.

The backdoor opened to reveal the Joker himself. He was the former Marine who helped keep pressure on your wound. Your eyes widened slightly at the sight before ultimately remaining your composure.

“Hey Y/N!” he patted your wounded shoulder and you tried your absolute hardest not to wince, “Sorry, forgot about that,” 

“Drive,” she said again.

“Where?” 

“Take me to see your son,” Izzy said and you shook your head. Henry wasn’t your sign biologically, but the longer you and JJ dated the longer it felt like he was. Like your entire life he was actually yours, “I said, drive!” 

You took a deep breath in before driving towards JJ’s house. The drive was tense as your knuckled turned white from gripping the steering wheel too hard. You just hoped and prayed to whatever type of God there was that they could keep Henry safe. 

JJ would be able to get over the loss of you, but the loss of Henry. That’s a different kind of loss she’ll never be able to survive. 

You finally parked across the street. You smiled softly at the sight of Henry playing in the front with Miss Kate and her daughter. 

“He’s a cutie,” Izzy told you and your smile quickly faded, “Looks a lot like Jennifer. Where’s the hospitality Y/N? Come on introduce me!” 

You got out of the car slowly walking up to the house, “Y/N!” Henry yelled, running towards you as he wrapped his arms around your legs. 

You crouched down so his tiny arms can wrap around your neck. You held him tight and close, sucking in a deep breath. Just for a moment, you were transported back to one of your favorite parts of the week. Just for a moment, he was safe in your arms.

Until he wasn’t. 

You told Miss Kate that it was okay to go as Izzy followed you into JJ’s home. Once Henry ran off to grab some toys, you turned your head and looked straight at her, “You touch my kid and I will kill you!” you said with teeth gritted.

Izzy clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth, making a tsk noise, “Now do you remember the deal Y/N? You touch me and both you and Jennifer die. Who’s gonna take care of Henry then?” 

“Y/N! Come play with me!” he exclaimed, running back in.

You crouched down again, ruffling his blonde hair, “I would love to, but I can’t right now buddy. You see, I have to go back to fighting bad guys, okay? Izzy over here is gonna take care of you until mommy comes home,” you could feel the tears start stinging your eyes as you tried to stop them from falling.

“So you’re gonna be a good boy for Izzy, okay? Listen to everything she says, okay?” you ask him

“Okay,” he replies innocently. 

“One more thing bud,” you pull him close to you as you hug him tightly, “I know I am not your mom or dad, but I love you so much. Did you know that?” 

He nods and you smile softly, “I will never let anything hurt you. Everything is going to be okay,” 

“Everything will be okay,” he mumbled back, “I love you Y/N,” 

You sniffled, “I love you too buddy,” 

You take a deep breath and back away from him. Before you walked out of the house, you looked Izzy dead in the eye, pushing your shoulder against hers on the way out. 

You sung open the car door before slamming it shut, “What the fuck do you want?!” you asked. 

“Woah, easy tiger,” Matthew told you, “You’re going to listen to everything I say. If you as dare mutter the two lettered word, your boy is as good as gone. Or should I say Jennifer’s boy is as good as gone because he’s not yours. He will never be your own kid,” 

Matthew made you drive to the train station where he strapped a bunch of bombs to your chest and chained you up like you’re some random zoo animal. Then he ran, like the coward he is, he ran. 

You thought you were as good as gone. But that didn’t matter to you. All that mattered to you was that Henry was safe. He was stuck with the psychopath that is the quote on quote “Queen”. 

Just when all hope was lost Prentiss came running in, “I found Y/N!” 

She ripped the duct tape off your mouth, “Izzy’s got Henry. Forget about me! Make sure Henry’s safe, please!” 

“JJ’s there right now. She’s gonna keep him safe,” Emily tried calming you down, “I’m not leaving your side, I’m gonna get you out of here so you can be with your family,” 

Emily was panicking as she tried to find a way to keep you from blowing up into bits. She punched in one passcode and it beeped, showing that she only had two tries left. 

You shook your head, knowing that in a minute you’ll be gone, and Emily could not be here to be included in the damage.

“Emily, just go. Get everyone out of here,” you pleaded.

She shook her head, “No, I told you you’ll get to be with your family and that’s what’s going to happen. I’m not going to leave you,” 

When she finally unlocked the code, another box opened. 30 seconds flashing and taunting you. This is how long you have left live. 

“Emily, tell JJ that I love her and that I’m sorry,” you whispered, “Now leave please! There’s still a chance that you could save yourself so go!” you screamed. 

She sat there looking at the wires before out of nowhere without speaking she just cut one, “What the fuck?!” you exclaimed, shutting your eyes close.

After a couple seconds, nothing happened. You opened one eye and looked down at the timer. It stopped. You let out a breath and an empty laugh, leaning your head against the pole.

“Emily, I love you and I love that you’re JJ’s best friend. But let me just say, I did not think we’d get this close to where I trust you with my life...literally!” you joked and she let out a soft chuckle.

“Let’s get you to your family,” she told you.

As soon as the bomb squad came to disarm you, you wrapped your arms around Emily, pulling her into a tight hug, “Thank you,” 

“Of course,” 

You were finally discharged from the hospital after a couple hours. Rossi reassured JJ that she could stay home with Henry and that he’ll drive you to the house. She was hesitant at first, but Rossi basically forced her to stay home.

Rossi parked in front of JJ’s patting your shoulder softly, “Enjoy your time off,” he joked.

“Oh trust me, I will,” you fired back and the two of you let out a hearty laugh.

You walked into the house slowly. Henry’s little voice echoing throughout the foyer was like music to your ears, “Y/N! You’re back!” he yelled.

You kneeled down as he made a bee line towards your arms with your arm that wasn’t in a sling, you hugged him tight. Even with one arm you could tell that he was struggling to breathe at how tight you were hugging him.

“I am! Did you pick out a movie tonight?” you asked, raising your eyebrows up at him.

“Yup!”

“Which one did you pick?” you asked and he showed you the DVD case of Shrek 2, “Nice choice bud!”

You looked up to the sound of footsteps to see JJ walking towards the two of you, “How about you brush your teeth and change into your PJ’s and me and your mom we’ll get the bed and movie all set up? How does that sound?” 

“Great!” he replied with a big smile.

“Great!” you responded, ruffling his hair, pulling him into another hug, “I love you,” you whispered to him.

“I love you too,” he told you before running off. 

You stood back up to face JJ. At first she looked angry before her anger turned to sadness. You took her into your arm as she buried her face into your neck, “It’s okay,” you whispered, “Everyone’s safe. I’m safe, Henry’s safe, you’re safe. We’re okay,” 

JJ took your face into her hands, running circles on your cheekbones, “I know Henry’s not biologically mine, but he means the world to me Jay. I wasn’t going to let anything bad happen to him,” 

“You’re just as much as a parent as I am,” she whispered.

“But he’s not mine,” you told her. 

“Then let’s change that, Y/N Y/L/N, marry me. We��ll get married in front of all of our friends and family. Henry will be your son, blood or not. And I will be your wife,” JJ whispered.

You smiled at her softly, “You know, I always wanted a wife and son,” you whispered to her.

“So is that a yes?” she asked.

“In every single language,” you murmured, pressing your lips upon hers. 

You and JJ stood there for a minute, just relishing in each other’s embrace. Your lips moving in sync. When all of a sudden you hear a little, “Ewwwww,” 

The two of you pulled apart and you saw Henry all dressed up in his Captain America pajamas, “Who are you ‘eww-ing’ Mr?” you asked him and he giggled as he ran away from you.

You immediately ran after him, JJ yelling after you, “Y/N! Be careful of your arm!” 

Henry squealed as you picked him up with your one healthy arm, spinning him around the bedroom before dropping him onto the bed. You crashed in your usual spot next to him as JJ put on the movie. 

You felt Henry’s little arm wrap around your body and once his grip loosened you knew he was asleep. Your eyes glanced over to JJ who was sleeping safe and soundly, her chin resting on top of Henry’s blonde head of hair. 

You sighed contently, as you turned on your side, wrapping your arms around the two of them. Henry’s head close to your chest as your forehead rested on top of JJ’s. 

Just for a moment, everything was right where it needed to be.

[blackacre13]

Next part of the actress AU? Love your stories btw

Part 11 is here; here's part 12:

Debbie’s stomach was starting to swirl for a whole other set of reasons, the elevator ding bringing her back to reality as the blonde whipped around with a breathless, “Debbie” catching herself and the glasses in mid-air before she lost her footing and then landing gracefully on the expensive looking carpet, and eyebrow raised precariously at the brunette. “Flowers?”

“And scotch?” Debbie squeaked, holding them up in the air as a peace offering.

“Great minds,” the blonde spoke, pacing forward, snatching a bottle off her coffee table and holding it out towards her. “I hear you like martinis. Here.”

“Uh, thanks,” Debbie smiled, awkwardly exchanging her bottle for Lou’s offered vodka.

“Your flowers are waiting in the dining room,” Lou whispered. “And dinner.”

“You—you bought me flowers?”

Debbie asked, completely thrown.

“Of course,” Lou grinned, waving Debbie towards another room before she’d had the chance to fully look around. “You’re my date, aren’t you? It’s my duty to spoil you.”

Debbie didn’t seem to mind the way Lou had casually called Debbie her date warming her cheeks, even knowing that the blush would stick around for a few minutes and the blonde would see it.

“I…um,” Debbie stumbled, frantically tucking a non-existent piece of her hair behind her ear as Lou watched her with a knowing smirk. “I owe you an explanation. I promise it’s no big deal, but I want to clear the air and—“

“Debbie?” Lou smiled, chuckling quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Need me to open that vodka?”

“No,” Debbie protested too quickly, the blonde looking sideways at her, utterly amused as she tried not to laugh. “I…” She wanted to say that she wanted everything that happened tonight to be clear. She wanted her wits about her. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Lou. It was the antithesis of that. She wanted to remember anything and everything that happened. Wanted to savor it. But she didn’t know how to say it without sounding like a complete psychopath.

Lou seemed to read her mind anyway, not for the first time, and not for the first time, Debbie was immensely grateful.

“Just one drink,” Lou promised. “It’ll take the edge off. A little anxiety appetizer. Don’t worry, I don’t need to get you drunk to get you…” her voice seemed to drift off as her eyes refocused, clearing her throat. “…to reveal any secrets,” she finished, Debbie left wondering what the hell the original end of that sentence had been. She didn’t know if her prediction was exactly what she had wanted to hear or a sentence that would have had her running in the opposite direction making a Debbie Ocean shaped hole in the elevator door of Lou Miller’s penthouse.

Debbie decided to answer with a smile and a nod, too worried she’d make even more of a fool of herself than she already had. She concentrated on Lou’s careful fingers, pouring out a double serving of vodka, prepping the rim of the glass and even throwing in some sort of artisan specialty olives that Debbie hadn’t noticed on the table. In fact, she hadn’t noticed anything. She’d been too concentrated on Lou herself, only now taking a moment to take in the onyx table and vintage retro lighting, no two lightbulbs suspended from the ceiling the same shape, dim rock playing in the background, no doubt from a record player that Debbie hadn’t spotted yet.

Lou’s velvet voice snapped her eyes away from studying a smattering of polaroids on the wall that led into the kitchen as she turned to her, accepting the glass the blonde held out to her with a quiet thanks.

Debbie took a long sip, half to steady her nerves and half because this was hands down the best martini she’d ever tasted.

“What?” Debbie laughed. “Did you moonlight as a bartender during acting school or something?”

“Or something,” the blonde shrugged, her eyes twinkling. Debbie noticed her give an approving nod to the bottle of scotch before placing it on a shelf next to assorted bottles of liquor, only later lifting a mason jar full of water and lemon to her lips as she turned back to Debbie.

“So,” Debbie exhaled, putting her glass down on the table, snapping her fingers awkwardly. God, it was like she’d never spoken to another human being before.

“Debbie,” Lou grinned. “It’s just me here, okay? No cameras. No expectations. No paparazzi or fans or anything. You can relax. Let your shoulders down. Take a breath.”

Debbie hadn’t realized that she’d let her shoulders rise practically to her ears, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment again.

“Hey,” Lou smiled, taking Debbie’s hand and squeezing it gently, Debbie’s eyes trailing down to their fingers, starting to slowly intertwine, trying to ignore the buzzing she felt along her calm and fingertips. “Forget earlier. Clean slate? I made something out of nothing. It’s a bad habit. I owe you the benefit of the doubt. We, of all people, know we have to take every rumor or misunderstanding with a grain of salt. It’s Hollywood. Nothing is what it seems, right?”

“How do you do that?” Debbie asked, shaking her head in awe as she started to trace along Lou’s palm, not missing how the blonde shivered slightly under her touch.

“I haven’t done anything,” the blonde laughed, stepping closer to Debbie, the brunette’s heart starting to race, but it wasn’t nerves anymore. “I’m just…being me.”

“That’s what I mean,” Debbie murmured. “You just…you make everything better. You have this way about you. This calmness. I just…this sounds stupid, but Fuck it, I’m just gonna be honest and say it.”

“Tell me,” Lou spoke, squeezing Debbie’s hand again, her stance moving just slightly until her hips were pressed up against Debbie’s.

“You feel safe,” Debbie breathed, not trying to hide behind other words or explanations. It was the honest truth and it seemed to make Lou glow slightly, teetering even closer to her, their noses almost touching.

“Tell me something else,” Lou whispered, licking her lips as Debbie’s eyes darted down to follow the movement of her tongue, heat simmering in her stomach.

“Maybe it’s the vodka, but…”

“You’ve only had one sip,” the blonde smirked. “Besides, you’re my date, Ocean. You don’t have to make excuses. You can tell me.”

“I want you to kiss me.”

“Good,” Lou nodded, her hand gently lifting Debbie’s chin as she gasped. “Because I’ve been thinking about kissing you again all day.”

“And…” Debbie swallowed, Lou’s fingers pausing just in front of her neck as Debbie’s fingers toyed with the loops on Lou’s pants deciding suddenly to tug at them, her breasts brushing against Lou’s as Lou studied her, her eyes darkening.

“Tell me.”

“I…want you to touch me.”