or the distance to the doors

One day, one rhyme- Day 1418

It seems Amy has the lurgy,
Perhaps even the plague.
She’s “on deaths door,” or otherwise
Something equally vague.
She’s a “gross clod of contagion,”
Not to be seen by kin-
Unless you’ve brought KitKats or Twix,
In which case, come on in,
But keep your distance, mark my words
For if you do succumb
Who’d take care of the two of you?
The likely culprit? Mum.
‘Not I,” says she, I’ve something on,
I really must be off.”
‘Not I,” Dads making tracks, even
Has found a hat to doff.
‘Not I,” the neighbour checks her watch,
“Oh wow, is that the time?
Ive got to go, I’m performing
A stand-up show in mime.”
Nan would, but she’s this other thing
She simply can’t avoid,
“Its work.” Then out she flees ‘ere they
Realize she’s unemployed.
It seems to empty Amy’s house
All that you have to do
Is say you’re sick, and ask them all
To come take care of you.

ma-sulevin  asked:

“I’ll run you a bath.” for Eloise and Cullen?

Thanks for the prompt! :) Hope you enjoy some newlywed fluffiness for Eloise Trevelyan x Cullen Rutherford (for @dadrunkwriting)


A gentle bark draws her out of her reverie looking out over the terrace to the door where she greets the Mabari and Cullen with a warm and gentle smile, tension and anxieties quickly bleeding away.

“There you are. I…” Cullen pauses, before continuing with a soft chuckle as he closes the distance between the two of them in the quarters they’ve appointed for her. “I just realized I’m greeting my wife,” he admits, grinning as he pulls her into his arms. “I rather like this.”

“Me too- husband,” Eloise replies, testing the title with a smile, pressing her lips to his in a soft kiss, feeling the amused smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“You look tired,” he breathes when they finally pull apart, smile fading a little as a large and calloused hand tenderly reaching up to cup her cheek, amber eyes searching hers. He’s touched her so before, a hundred times, and somehow it’s still as soothing, as wonderful as the first. The knowledge that in all this mess, this headache that there’s someone looking for her, waiting for her…

She’s a long way from the lost young woman who’d fled the Circle, a former noble who had people for such mundane things as cooking, shopping, and those basic things a person ought to know. From the girl still hoping that somehow, someday, her parents might find her worthy of acknowledgment. She’s learned to sew, even knit, how to cook some basic meals, how to spot a merchant she can haggle with. More, perhaps most, importantly, she’s learned to exercise the compassion and love she offers so freely to others with herself. She’s stopped waiting for the impossible and instead found other people who love and accept her as she is, one of whom has just this afternoon promised the rest of his life to her.

That that person should be Cullen, a former Templar, and she a mage, an abomination, with their past histories almost defies belief. It’s the sort of thing she’d expect in a tavern song, or maybe a romance serial. It’s not the kind of thing that happens outside of fiction, and certainly not to her. Yet here they stand.

“Thank you,” she teases, unable to resist.

“No! I- Maker’s breath, I didn’t mean…” Cullen stammers, shaking his head.

“Shhh,” she smiles, turning to press a fleeting kiss into his palm, before nuzzling back into it. “I know,” she promises patiently.

“I just meant… I know how these political games wear on you. And being around so many people.”

“It’s been a long day,” Eloise nods, fighting back a sigh, before suddenly laughing at just how familiar the conversation is.

“I’m afraid my dancing’s not improved much since then,” Cullen smiles, catching on to what she must be thinking of.

“That’s alright. Seems I still have poor taste in dance partners. I’d enjoy a dance with my husband sometime,” she continues thoughtfully with a small smile, “but you were right, I am tired.”

It pains her to admit it. This is their wedding day. And they’d both been dragged away from one another shortly after their secret ceremony into various inane meetings, ridiculous posturing, and circular arguments about what the Inquisition’s future should be. There will, of course, be other days. A lifetime of them, she tries to remind herself. And Mia will no doubt wish to do something for them to celebrate when they next visit, and perhaps well as scold them for not inviting her. Pretending otherwise would only make it worse, though. He’d see right through it, and she’s done keeping any part of herself from him.

“I’ll run you a bath,” Cullen whispers, offering a kiss to her crown and an affectionate squeeze where his hands have come to rest on her hips.

“Join me,” Eloise asks softly, watching him from the doorway as he leans over, pouring a sweet-smelling bottle into the ornate tub as it slowly begins filling with hot water and bubbles.

“Maker, yes. I, um… I’d like that.”

“Me too.”

“I- may have been hoping you’d ask,” he admits with the slightest hint of smile, fingers toying for just a moment with the laces of her shirt as they help one another undress, and a flush that Eloise is quite sure isn’t simply the warmth the water is filling the room with.

“Good.”

s4 keith and the marmora suit

there’s something interesting about keith’s blade of marmora suit and how it ties into his actions in s4 

here in season 2, episode 8, kolivan says to shiro “his suit has the ability to create a virtual mindscape reflecting its wearer’s greatest hopes and fears”. however, we don’t know how the marinade suit does this, whether it’s technology or some strange magical property like haggar and the druids use 

kolivan also says “at this moment, your friend desperately wants to see you”. at a time when keith was vulnerable and emotional, and at his lowest point, he wanted to see his brother-figure and the margarine suit reflected that in the form of hologram shiro who offered him comfort- a hope of his

however, holo-shiro also became one of keith’s greatest fears- abandoning him. if you turn the brightness up, you can see a white glow around this shiro proving he isn’t real

but what if the majorca suit’s ability also extends to season 4? a time when keith wears the suit almost the entire season?

what if the reason keith leaves his team is because the marmalade suit has amplified his feelings of insecurity and not belonging on the team? what if his thoughts are amplified into a virtual mindscape, inside his head, that tells him he has to distance himself?

this is the face of someone in pain and it repeats a few more times throughout the episodes

just like in episode 8 of s2, keith is going through a struggle, and i don’t think he wants to separate himself from the team. especially after that significant moment where he said goodbye to his dad and walked out the door, symbolically choosing voltron over his heritage, it doesn’t make sense that 1 season later he’s reverting to choosing his galra side over his paladin duty 

keith has always been ride or die but i think in s4 it’s becoming worse because the mustard suit amplifies his thoughts of ‘voltron is complete, they don’t need you’. what starts as a fleeting thought is becoming, thanks to the suit, a huge internal struggle that keith can see in his mind

he even said it himself in episode 1 of s4 “my absence allowed shiro to re-establish his bond with the black lion. he can finally be the leader i was unable to be”, and it’s becoming worse and worse, to the point that keith was ready to sacrifice himself 

the keith we’ve seen over the course of 4 seasons wouldn’t be so willing to surrender himself. but here he’s resolved, you can see on his face the determination and the understanding that this is what he thinks he has to do

but not having a place on the team isn’t a catalyst for sacrifice. keith is distanced from the team but it isn’t a reason to trade his life, especially in such a futile attempt that he must’ve known wouldn’t work, because his ship wouldn’t have been powerful enough to break the planet’s barrier. there must be another factor at play

the mullet suit is amplifying keith’s fears, like kolivan said it did, but it might also be amplifying his hopes. what if one of keith’s hopes is to ensure his new-found family’s success and happiness? the suit created an image in keith’s mind- if he sacrificed himself, it would give the paladins a chance to win, and for keith that’s all that matters. his hope is to not only save the universe, but to save his rag-tag group who have become his family even at the cost of his life

we’ve seen hints of keith’s insecurities before, especially in s3, but now it’s escalated. who else has deep insecurities we’ve seen, who has been called keith’s ‘stability’, who has been his mutual comfort and who does he listen to when he’s emotional and vulnerable? especially now that kuron-shiro and keith will grow apart

i think keith will bond with lance over their shared fears, worries, and insecurities and they’ll grow closer as a result, but also- i don’t think it’s out of the question that keith might end up seeing a hologram of lance while wearing the mozzarella suit, because that reflects his ‘greatest hopes and fears’ 

TL;DR the mango suit is messing with keith’s mind 

i used to see my parents fight even as a young girl hiding under my blanket. and i would always wonder why my mother simply never walk out of that door. it was all so ironical from the eyes of a ten year old because my mother would always remind me to stand up for myself. but now i get why she stayed because walking out on someone you love is easy but staying and fighting for what you believe in is harder.

lessons my mother taught me//nikitagupta

Hey guys! I’ve told you before that I’m a writer so this is a hella long post because it’s track-by-track. Unapologetically so. Hope you guys enjoy x 

TRACK 1: “… READY FOR IT?

 This song is a battlecry. The thumping bass brings to mind the heavy thud of wolves paws as they race towards their prey, seeking the trail left by a girl who used to leave her heart open and on her sleeve, ready to be snatched at any moment in a snap of their jaws. But no more. From the moment she clears her throat, we learn this battle will be on Taylor’s terms. It is her fight to win.

This is the first love song she’s released and had complete artistic ownership of in three years. It is no coincidence then that there’s reference to the tortured passions of Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. They were a couple hopelessly and dangerously in love with many scars carved on their hearts by the other’s knife. This reference is a throwaway to the long list of ex lovers the girl who bathes in diamonds has had but also a reference to the flickers of hope Taylor feels for longevity no matter what with Joe. Their road may be complicated at times but they will get  there because the game is hers. The constant question of ready for it and in response baby let the games begin is so obviously a call of warning to Joe for what lies ahead but perhaps more subtly it is the call of Taylor’s inner voices and heart to her razor sharp self awareness. Is she ready for the games to begin? Is she ready to open her heart and give Joe a chance to be a better man?

TRACK 2: “END GAME” ft. Ed Sheeran & Future:

This song starts off with Taylor’s declaration that she wants to find a forever. It sounds sincere, gentle, wearied, the tone of the too often heartbroken. But then it shifts, it’s like the rose coloured glasses have come off and she’s reminded of her reputation. Then it’s all tongue in cheek sarcastic satire to keep the smile in place so that we don’t see how much it hurts. She has to weigh up every interaction in the context of her reputation. The addition of Ed & Future speaks volumes; one is a time trusted friend who has finally found a bright love of his own but that was not without heartbreak and the other gives her an edgier attitude that makes her self awareness all the more powerful.

There has been a further loss of innocence in this sharpening of her self awareness, gone are the wistful days of “say you’ll remember me”, that’s all I want. Now it’s all “I don’t wanna touch you, I don’t wanna be just another ex love you don’t wanna see.” She can see the fall right from the start but this time she opts out and says unless I’m your end game… because I don’t want to pick up any more pieces of my broken heart.

Also: Shoutout to Ed for his Cherry inspired verse. It made me feel many emotions too. SWEERAN THRIVES.

TRACK 3: “I DID SOMETHING BAD.”

The girl with the long list of ex lovers is back. However with the casually explicit twist, this narrative seems layered with perceptions and recognition of self-worth, “If a man talks shit, I owe him nothing.” This is drip-feeding the media exactly what they want, she’s stoking the fire herself. But in feeding the fire herself, she’s sending the burning embers back at them. Did you really think the girl who you used as an international rod for slut shaming would stay quiet forever? Nope. She doesn’t care if you burn her like a witch at the stake because she’s already done it. She’s burnt away all of the misplaced guilt and is now revelling in how good they felt in the moment. In fact, watch out she’s blazing with all the fire of a phoenix reborn and you might just get turned to ash.

TRACK 4: “DON’T BLAME ME.”

This & “I Did Something Bad” sound like sister tracks. The girl who jetsets around the world collecting men isn’t quite finished with her tale yet. She reminds us that defining her relationships by their headlines and paparazzi shots is a foolish move because those things are  one-dimensional. Taylor believes in love and this is her way of reminding us that there was love in every escapade of her heart up until now, at least at some point. She’s talking about the heady rushes head spinning intoxication of first glances and hands on skin and it doesn’t matter what the media says about the way she handles relationships because they forget love and that makes you crazy. Maybe in their minds the drug she refers to is not a singular identity but a collective “baby” and to them love will always be something she “uses”. But the heart wants what it wants and Taylor knows that so it doesn’t really matter.

TRACK 5: “DELICATE.”

This is the kind of song that happens when you cut the cord that is the boy crazy perception of yourself. You step back into the shadows and disappear so that they can’t find you. You close your heart, lock your doors and rebuild. And then he shows up. This is a cautionary songpp because Taylor can obviously feel sparks but… she’s just started to rebuild and if they find out the wolf hunt begins again. With delicate disbelieving vocals, we see Taylor start to realise that he can’t possibly want to gain anything from her reputation because it’s so bad… The wheels turn in her head. I imagine the realisation, “Wait so he must like me for me?” With the beat drop comes hope. Details are slowly given and then he stays. He doesn’t run so Taylor gives him pieces of herself; confessions thoughts and then her brain catches up with her mouth and the wheels come to a grinding halt: Her inner monologue screams it was too much too fast. We’ve all been there. It’s too delicate. No going back now. It’ll break and I’ll be left alone. Maybe one day I’ll find someone who doesn’t walk away, one day too.

TRACK 6: “LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO.”

The world tore a girl to shreds, made her play the fool on tilted stages. She retreated and rebuilt. Now the fool is dead. From here on out, she only trusts her army. With high heeled boots, red lips and words as sharp as daggers, she’s cutting herself a path. She is taking no prisoners and she’s accompanied by a savage snake because she and her army will always be better at the game. When she’s finished hunting down your asses, she’ll sit back on her throne with a high pitched giggle and say, “oh look what you made me do.”

TRACK 7:  “SO IT GOES…”

When people are watching, you have to be careful. Cover your tracks. Taylor doesn’t leave her heart open or on display anymore. But then they leave. The door shuts. You lock it with a key and the crashing chemistry you’ve been trying to deny slams into your ribs, knocking the breath out of you. It’s stolen kisses, careless touches, reckless chasing of the high. Body language is a fluency all its own. But a quick reminder before you unlock the door and venture out again; wash the lipstick off your face. *clears throat* you got a little caught up in the moment and you don’t want to blow your cover!

TRACK 8: “GORGEOUS.”

 The childish proclamation of the title to begin this next glimpse into Reputation  is hinting at the satirical inner monologue that this song is , reminiscent of the times you write your crush’s  last name instead of your own to see how it fits. It’s all giggles and late night phone calls, the kind Taylor most likely had with Abigail where they talked real slow because it was late and their mamas didn’t know (: However, it could also serve as a projection of the runaway daydream that fills Taylor’s mind from that very first night when she stumbles home alone to her cats, of what a possible future might look like (with kids one day) The lazy liquor loosened rhythms of Taylor’s thoughts tell us things she hasn’t admitted fully yet but will soon on nights at 4am staring at her reflection  in the bathroom mirror, telling herself the bravest thing she ever did was run - that this gorgeous  swoonworthy British boy with his careless touches and drawling accent has awakened the possibility of something better. This realisation rattles Taylor as she contemplates the gaps in her current relationship. *cue wistful sighs of frustration and enchantment, set to the dialogue of every teenage movie where the girl thinks the boy is just too good looking, how unfair is that?

TRACK 9: “GETAWAY CAR.”

The thing about any movie that has a getaway car scene is that they inevitably crash…. And that’s exactly what happens here. Except, the carnage is human hearts. She was running. There was a person she crashed into. It gets all blurred and tangled, she thinks she’s free but the thing about those movies is that the thing you ran from in the getaway car catches up to you particularly if there’s a track you can follow. Oceans of distance weren’t enough, darling. You needed to disappear. And I think she realises that  but she tries to pretend innocence and will the sunset closer. Unfortunately  the only real  way to untangle yourself is to disappear crying in the back of a getaway car in the dead of night. Without a word. That must have hurt a lot.

TRACK 10: “KING OF MY HEART.”

This song happens in tandem with Delicate. She’d sworn off love. Joe turned up. The British boy with the heart of gold who made his American queen believe. He made behind closed doors a paradise of rooftop nights. Before she knows it, he is every love story Taylor has ever daydreamed of. The line “is this the end to all the endings” made my heart swell because it’s clear Taylor hopes he’s the one. Please let there be no more heartbreak.

TRACK 11: “DANCING WITH OUR HANDS TIED.”

Dancing is supposed to be a joyous thing and maybe it was in the beginning. You can reassure with every beat. Sometimes your gut instinct shouldn’t be ignored though  because it does raise red flags. The door only needs to be fractionally ajar for the hunters to find a way in and set your paradise aflame. It sometimes doesn’t matter how much you dance to escape the flames, they will catch you. You will get tired. Dancing is a bliss that is euphoria swimmimg through your veins if the beat enters your bloodstream in the right moment; you feel like you could live forever. And in the end no matter how much it might hurt to walk away again, you would still dance for just another kick of that rush.

TRACK 12: “DRESS.”

Taylor’s caught up in the chemical rush. Every syllable drips with lust and the glory of the high when your hearts crash into each other, slamming the breath from between your ribs. It’s hands in hair and I don’t care what they think. It’s seeing the worst (hi bleachella) and still wanting. It’s realising you made mistakes before this and why didn’t you just do this from the beginning because it feels so good now you can’t ever have imagined wanting anything else. But every mistake is a marker in the roadmap and you woke up just in time to find where you needed to be.

TRACK 13: “THIS IS WHY WE CAN’T HAVE NICE THINGS.”

I think everyone’s been in this situation, right? Someone burns you and it hurts but in the fun of a party, you click and connect again and it all starts to feel like water under the bridge. Maybe there was over-reacting happening. You throw them a second chance. Redemption. You’re the nice girl and you make excuses. But then they do it again, maybe it takes a couple of things and suddenly it’s too much. You lock the gate for your own safety. But they still expect you not to care. To flash a smile and forgive. I’m sorry. That’s not happening. You get hurt when I push back. I guess I should forgive you because we both threw stones. But… that would require me to mean it. Whoops, *laughs manaically* I can’t even say it with a straight face!!!

PS: It’s not too obvious I have personal experience with this song is it? Thanks KS x.

TRACK 14: “CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT.”

This song is difficult for me to process because I never thought it would actually happen. I seem to remember somewhere along the way, a couple of years back, Taylor expressing frustration that she couldn’t seem to write happy songs about being in love like Ed Sheeran could. Well, I wish you could go back Taylor and tell yourself what you know now.

This song is a three minute ode to happy love. It’s smiles so wide you might split your face in half at the thought of that person. It’s blushing and shy giggles and bursts of song and twirls and all caps texts from your girls as they collectively lose their minds over how happy you are. This is every love story and fairytale Taylor has ever wanted but the wolves are always waiting, not so easy to outrun. 

Taylor says it herself in the  opening lines. She was done. The castle had crumbled. The bricks left bruises blooming on her exposed skin. People were tearing her down and she was hurting. Her heart had been shattered but so had her soul, again and again, relentlessly. And then she retreated, went silent and rebuilt. What she didn’t count on was love. A man who saw all the bruises and broken pieces and said it’s OK, I can still find the real you under all that. Taylor like so many of us looked in the mirror and saw all the danger for herself and for Joe, tried to push him away, keep him safe. That’s a very noble action but breaking your own heart so it doesn’t hurt as much when you feel like the other shoe is going to drop requires apathy from the other person. And Joe, god bless you, you didn’t let her push you away. You broke down her walls and showed you that starlight love does still exist. You loved her for Taylor. The person. You got her to give love a chance when she swore never again so thank you so much for that. I can’t really express how much that means to all of us. 

 This is an anthem of hope for every person who has ever been broken and is in the process of putting pieces back together. It can be done. We will find love. We will be radiantly happy again. We will be the strongest we’ve ever been. 

PS: *leans over to whisper in Taylor’s ear*

I think you’re finally clean…

TRACK 15: “NEW YEARS DAY.”

Piano on the final track… This is an ode of pure hope and happiness, a fitting final chapter to a remarkable story. Everyone wants the glory of the midnights and the lover who will be in their bloodstream like the party. But what we all hope for is someone who stays long enough to help us clean up the bottles on New Years Day. Someone who makes us feel like the messy unfiltered parts look like a highlight reel. Good times and bad times and all in between. They won’t leave. You found him. Forever.

This album is fucking brilliant Taylor. I love you. Proud x.

@taylorswift @taylornation @brian-mansfield

aspoonfuloflanguage  asked:

Hey! So I recently got a new job and moved to a new city and don't get me wrong I'm very grateful... but ya girl's stressed, exhausted, and a little bit lonely. Do you have any advice and/or a funny story to help me through the week?

last night, sam went upstate and took his little nieces and nephews out trick-or-treating. naturally, steve and nat and  i went with him, to help establish him as “The Coolest Uncle Ever: Even Better Than Uncle Terry, Who Is A Cool Cop And Always Smells Like Vanilla.” or at least, that’s why nat and steve went. i just went to heckle sam. 

(as an aside: the dawning realization that i experienced when sam’s sister’s kids came running at him, yelling “Uncle Sam! Uncle Sam!” was incredible. Uncle Sam hangs out with Captain America. perfect. )

anyway, sam has–i think–six nieces and nephews. i think. they kept running around and it was hard to count. also, there may have been twins. i’m not sure about that–it may have been one child who kept changing costumes. it made me very grateful that i only ever had to look after steve and becca. 

the youngest of the little monsters was named seth. seth was three and a half, which he would proudly indicate with his pudgy little fingers whenever prompted. and sometimes without prompting. this was seth’s first halloween. as per sam’s family tradition, seth was decked out in a worn green dinosaur onesie, which came included with dino-face hood and very plush tail. every one of the kids wore it at some point, and after tessa’s (age 7) discovery that dinosaurs had feathers, it now includes a few dozen white feathers sewn onto the ends of the sleeves and tail. 

seth was delighted with this. he spent most of the pre-trick-or-treating time running around growling at people. 

when all the kids were ready to go, sam’s sister lined them up next to the door and dished out the rules: stay in a group, don’t leave anyone behind, don’t go into anyone’s house, etc. we adults were told that the kids were allowed to run along the sidewalks, but had to wait with an adult at the end of each block. when she’d gotten confirmations from the whole group, she opened the door and they went roaring out like a stampede of very tiny bison. we followed after. 

the group veered left right out the door. the house is in a suburb, nice and well lit and very safe, so we let them get a little distance on us. seth was at the back of the pack: his little dino-head tipped down for the charge, pudgy arms and legs pumping like a locomotive, tail like a rudder behind him. 

the rest of the kids charged up the next door neighbor’s driveway. head down, seth kept going.

the rest of the group got their candy and bolted towards the next house, easily overtaking the little dino that could. 

unsure what was happening, steve and sam and nat and I waited at the end of the block. the oldest kids got to us first and compared their loot while we waited. seth pulled up soon after, having eliminated the going-up-to-houses stage and gained ground on the middle children. when he caught sight of the other kid’s candy, he was visibly confused. 

sam got down on his level and asked what was up. 

apparently, a misunderstanding had occurred. seth believed that halloween was a race, and the winners got bags full of candy. no one had actually explained the whole getting-candy-from-strangers part to him. 

seth was devastated that he’d missed a whole block’s worth of loot, so steve scooped him up piggyback and took off at a dead run, which is pretty impressive. i once saw steve outrun a horse. he and seth went full-out. by the time the rest of the kids had gathered with the rest of us, steve had re-done the whole block. and he only jumped three cars to do it in time. 

seth’s candy bag was rapidly filled by the neighbors, who managed to stop gaping long enough to extend their candy bowls. seth himself barely noticed, as he was too busy clinging to steve’s hair and shrieking. 

tessa was very jealous, and commandeered me as a steed for the next block. the rest of the kids quickly demanded the same from nat and sam. (sam’s “i do what he does, only slower” was not a great selling point for the kids, who wanted to go faster, sam.

so we spend the rest of the evening doing piggy-back halloween speedruns.

seth got a lot of candy.

You can find the corrected version of this post here on Ao3. -Mod Hell

anonymous asked:

(So I completely adore you and your blog) I was wondering what's the badge shot? And why use it special? You light up my life by the way

if you’re referring to “THAT SHIT WITH THE BADGE” mentioned in this post then buckle up friend, because the only thing I love more than the badge shot is talking about the badge shot!

The Badge Shot happens around half way through the Dean/Aaron pub scene (in 8.13 “Everybody Hates Hitler” just in case you’re not completely obsessed with this scene like I am) and it looks like this: 

that’s the entirety of the badge shot. the whole thing. but this scene is unbelievable and this shot is the crowning fucking glory.

how many times do you think Dean Winchester has flashed an FBI badge? hundreds of times? THOUSANDS??? and it’s never a Thing. sometimes we see it close up when he shoves it all up in someone’s face, but usually it’s just bish bash bosh badge, put it away, move on. but then there’s THIS, a shot which turns up in the middle of a scene in which Dean is hit on by a dude and DOES NOT SHOOT HIM DOWN.

so Aaron is being cute as shit and telling Dean he thought they had a little eye magic, shared a moment – and Dean realises what’s happening, sloooowly reaches out, pulls the badge towards himself, and closes it. and this stuck out to me from the minute I saw this episode at arse o’clock in the morning on a shitty jumpy livestream. I was WAITING for a gif of him closing his badge to show up. because it’s not just Dean closing a fake FBI badge. that fake FBI badge is Dean’s hunting persona. that fake FBI badge is hunting, full stop. it’s monsters and death and fucking Nazi necromancers but, most importantly, it’s LYING. it’s symbolic of Dean lying, putting on a front, being someone he’s not.

Dean closing that badge in the slowest, most deliberate way anyone has ever closed a badge is Dean consciously choosing to approach this as DEAN, not Agent Bolan (and don’t even get me started on that name choice). this is Dean realising he’s being hit on by a guy and choosing to be HONEST, choosing to be HIMSELF, and to not put on the hypermasculine alpha male hunter front that he usually falls back on.

if he’d just put the badge away — no muss, no fuss, no drawing attention to it — then it wouldn’t mean anything. without this shot, FBI Dean could have said “yeah okay, but no, no moment, this is a federal investigation”, shot Aaron down, left the pub and it would have been 100% believable. but we got this shot. we got Dean Winchester stuttering and blushing and fidgeting with his badge all the way through ”yeah okay, but no, no moment, this is a federal investigation” and the subsequent flirting, fluster, minor panicking, “oh my god what am I doing???”, foot-in-mouthing and bumping into tables is ALL DEAN.

and there’s nothing special about Dean being himself (he’s himself 90% of the time) except for the fact he could have been DONE with this conversation in 1/3 of the time if he’d just stuck to the script, but he CHOOSES NOT TO. it’s ALL ABOUT THE CHOOSING. it’s about Dean DECIDING TO STICK AROUND AND LET A DUDE FLIRT WITH HIM JUST TO SEE WHERE IT GOES. (and, arguably, if closing the badge so deliberately symbolises Dean being honest, but he keeps up the FBI cover then… I wonder… what he could be being honest about…)

if Aaron hadn’t back-pedalled after Dean’s reaction to “is that supposed to make you less interesting?” then you can fucking BET they would have ended up getting cute awkward drinks later and probably having a cute awkward makeout sesh in the car. I mean, if Aaron wasn’t actually tailing Dean and didn’t have a huge golem, but whatever.

(HONESTLY THOUGH, Dean’s reaction to “is that supposed to make you less interesting?” is surprise and poorly concealed interest, so of course Aaron is thinking “oh shit this wasn’t supposed to WORK” and aborts mission pronto and, seriously, Dean’s facial expressions are INCREDIBLE. you can literally SEE him thinking “oh god, what am I DOING, I actually almost WENT FOR THAT, get outta here, Winchester” and it’s superb. he even does one of those calming hand movement things. I can’t believe this scene is real.) 

and, I mean, everything is open to interpretation, but how you can read this as anything other than “Dean gets hit on by a cute guy and is really flattered and flustered and into it and decides to test the water re: burgeoning sexuality in a safe controlled environment and then gets cold feet” and still have it make sense is beyond me.

By Chance

Summary: A/B/O!AU. Female!Reader is an Omega. Alphas and Omegas are rare, and Reader’s been able to avoid alphas through sheer force of will and luck in equal parts.

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, 18+, language

Word Count: ~9,190 (… oops?)

A/N: So I started writing this with the intent to post it when I hit 200 followers. Well that milestone came and went and I’m quickly approaching 300 so it’s high time I posted this. I love all of you and hope you enjoy this <3

I’ve been wanting to write an A/B/O fanfic for a while. So, here it finally is.

I may or may not have gotten… completely carried away writing this.

Masterlist

Originally posted by sxy-seabass

Bucky’s POV

The first time he smelled her was when he was on a mission. Vanilla and Wildflower. The single-minded focus that had been drilled into him by the Hydra brainwashing and training was severed in an instant and his head whipped around to search for the source. He tore his mask off and dropped it onto the ground unceremoniously, sniffing the air frantically as he tried to pinpoint the scent. His blood sang in his veins.

The scents of the city made it hard to pinpoint her, but he wouldn’t give up. He left the spot he’d been staking out for hours, rifle forgotten on the ledge as he jumped off of the roof, dropping two stories onto the ground and rolled to diffuse the worst of the impact. His knees protested in agony anyway, but he ignored them along with the shocked cries of bystanders as he followed her scent.

He’d smelled other Omegas before. Most of them had been claimed, just a passing flicker of recognition in the back of his mind while he was out on mission. Rarely, he’d catch the scent of an unclaimed Omega, but even then it was only a brief, fleeting distraction, his Hydra programming overriding his biological programming.

Something about this Omega broke the control Hydra had over his mind, cutting through the fog with ease. He realized distantly that he’d started remembering things about himself; the feeling of chasing after an omega was familiar, linking him back to a life that had long been erased from his memory.

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Sanctuary - Hybrid! BTS Drabble

Genre: Hybrid! BTS, BTS AU, fluff

Pairing: Hybrid! OT7 x reader

Warnings: extreme cuteness ahead - plot-less fluff?

Summary: The adventures of living with 7 hybrids

Authors Note:  This is just a little something I wrote. I hope you like it~<3

Post Date: 11/14/17

“Boys!” you called from the kitchen. “Breakfast!” You heard scrambling feet before a tall boy bounded into the kitchen. His face was lit up with a boxy smile. He crashed into you and gathered you up in a hug. “Ah! Taehyung, you’re going to kill me one of these days,” you jokingly scolded. His ears flicked before he smiled down at you again, his pointy canines poking his bottom lip.

“I’m a predator Y/N, a big scary tiger!” He held his arms above his head and put on a grimace, pretending to be intimidating.

“More like an oversized cat,” a voice said. Yoongi walked into the kitchen yawning. His black ears flicked above his head as he approached the table. Taehyungs arms fell, and he looked over at Yoongi.

“You’re the oversized cat,” Tae shot back.

“Jaguar,” Yoongi corrected, taking a seat at the table.

“Cat,” Tae continued.

“You’re both big scary predators, now eat,” you said, plating some eggs and toast onto their plates. The two complied, focusing on the meal before them rather than bickering.

The next character to enter the kitchen was Hoseok, your dog hybrid. His tail wagged behind him as he neared the stove. He peaked over your shoulder, practically drooling on you. “That smells good,” he said.

“Thanks Hobi,” you said absently scratching his head with your free hand.

“Is it all gone?” The youngest walked in, his eyes wide.

“Jungkook-ah!” Tae waved the bunny over to the table. He quickly complied plating his own food before the rest of the group ate it up.

“Don’t worry I know how much you all eat. There’s plenty,” you assured. The sausages sizzled in the pan as they cooked. The kitchen was filled with the sound of forks against plates, glasses tinkling and the occasional “can you pass that?” You stood at the stove, still cooking the heaps of food needed to fill their bellies.

           You felt gentle hands at your back, untying your apron. “I can take over Y/N, why don’t you go eat?” Turning, you saw Jin smiling at you.

“Thank you Jinnie,” you said, stepping away from the stove. If you weren’t cooking, Jin was. He loved the activity ever since you taught him how. Soon enough he surpassed your skills, creating mouth-watering dishes that would make Gordon Ramsey cry. In thanks, you rubbed his dark fox ears. He leaned into your touch, fluffy tail swaying.

           Yoongi wordlessly pulled the chair out next to him for you to sit. You had known him the longest out of all the boys and he always tried to look out for you. Sure, he was a hybrid, but he was also older than you, so he felt it was necessary. The black cat put food onto your plate before you could. Below the table you felt his long tail snake around your ankle. He was always very subtle in showing his love, but you found his subtly endearing.

           The sliding glass door behind the table opened, momentarily pouring cold air into the hot kitchen. Namjoon closed the door, unraveling the scarf around his neck.

“How were the woods?” you asked him.

“Good, no one’s been trespassing,” he said taking a seat at the table. Namjoon was a wolf hybrid. He always loved patrolling the woods around your house, feeling it was his duty to protect his territory. It certainly wasn’t necessary, but you let Namjoon do what he pleased.

           You looked around the kitchen table. Most of the boys were filling their plates for a second time. Jin still stood at the stove, humming lightly to himself. It was quite the cozy scene, but something was missing.

“Where’s Jimin?” You asked after taking a sip of your orange juice. The hybrids all exchanged looks before looking back at you. Jimin was the newest addition to the group but had yet to warm up to everyone. It was understandable, given his past. You stood from the table, Yoongi’s tail slipping from your leg.

“I’ll go get him,” you said.

           You never meant to have seven hybrids living with you, but it just sort of happened. After your grandparents passed away, you inherited their estate, which included a rather large house nestled in a forest. A free home whose mortgage was totally paid for was a blessing for a young woman like yourself. The morning you moved in, you discovered Yoongi. He was snoozing away in one of the guest bedrooms. It turned out he had been homeless when he stumbled upon the empty house and made it his. The house was more than big enough so you let him stay with you.

           As time wore on, more and more hybrids showed up at your doorstep. They usually wandered into the woods, wounded and afraid. Some, like Namjoon, kept their distance. Others, like Taehyung, curiously approached your home. A few days ago, you were out in the woods with Hoseok, when you saw a crumpled figure laying against a fallen tree. Huddled under a raggedy blanket was a calico cat hybrid, Jimin.

           You knocked on his bedroom door. “Jimin,” you softly called, “Breakfast is ready. Are you hungry?” No response. You opened the door slowly. The curtains in his room were drawn, darkening the room considerably. However, it was easy to see the ball curled up on the bed. Jimin was asleep, his pink lips parted slightly. He was so cute you had to suppress a squeal. You sat on the edge of the bed and gently ran you fingers through his hair.

           His eyes fluttered open. “Y/N?” he asked.

“Good morning sleepyhead,” you said with a laugh. “I’m sure you’re really tired but there’s breakfast for you. Are you hungry?” Jimin sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Ever since you brought him home, he’d been sleeping endlessly, like he hadn’t slept in years.

“Hmmm,” was all he said in response. Jimin and you got along fine, but he was wary around the rest of the group. You scratched behind his ears, earning a low purr from him. He flopped his head down in your lap and hugged your waist. Smiling, you pet him more. It wasn’t long after you rescued him that you realized he was a sucker for pets and hugs. Much like Taehyung, he would cling onto you and beg for attention. It was cute, and you didn’t mind giving the kitty some love.

           A rhythmic thumping sound caused you both to look at the doorway. There, Hoseok stood, his tail hitting the wood of the doorframe. He was doing his best to not rush into the room and attack the newcomer with questions. Although he was restraining himself, his eagerness showed on his face. Jimin escaped under the covers before you could say anything. You stood and walked to the door, taking Hoseoks hands. You shooed him away, closing the door behind you.

“Aw, Y/N, when will he let me play with him?” He said with a pout. You chuckled and dragged him back to the dining room.

“He’s still shy Hobi. Give him time and I’m sure he’d love to play with you.” You approached the stove and made up a plate for Jimin. Jin helped you, plating a few extra sausages for the cat. You smiled at Jin before padding back into his room.

“It’s just me,” you announced. His blonde head poked out from the covers. Seeing the food, he unfurled himself from the sheets and scooted to the edge of the bed. You sat next to him and handed him the plate. Jimin wasted no time in scarfing down the food. The poor boy really needed some TLC. He seemed to lack sleep, proper nutrition and a loving family. You hoped you could change all that. Within minutes the plate was clean, and he set it down on his nightstand.

“More?”

“No,” he said, flopping back onto the bed. He grabbed you and pulled you down with him. Cuddling into your side, he quickly fell back asleep. At first you were conflicted, you would’ve liked to go back and finish your own breakfast, but you didn’t want to disturb Jimin. It wasn’t long before you drifted off yourself.

           “Where’s Y/N? Her food’s getting cold.” Jungkook asked, placing his plate in the sink. Taehyung came up from behind him and bit his floppy ear. He had a habit of biting things he liked. “Yah!” Jungkook exclaimed. Taehyung leapt back with a laugh.

“She’s probably still with Jimin,” he said, grinning. Jungkook simply hummed. He didn’t understand the cat. When he first arrived, he was quite the opposite, getting along well with the other boys but shying away from you. He didn’t trust humans and didn’t know how to interact with them. Plus, you’re a girl.

           Namjoon was also concerned with you eating. He put saran wrap around your plate and placed it in the fridge. He and Jin exchanged looks before he exited the kitchen and made his way down the hall. Silently, he opened Jimin’s bedroom door. Inside, he found you two snoozing away on his bed. The wolfs dimples appeared as he smiled. As quietly and gently as possible, he scooped you up bridal style. Jimin grumbled in his sleep and turned over but did not wake up. Namjoon carried you to the living room as you slowly woke up.

           Your bleary eyes opened as you were put on the couch. Taehyung and Jungkook were playing video games a few feet away. A bit disoriented, you took in your new surroundings. Namjoon patted your head, making you look up at him.

“You should eat,” he said with a warm smile. You nodded and got up from the couch. Namjoon led you into the kitchen with his hand at your back. Inside, Jin and Hoseok were washing the dishes, dancing to the song that played on the radio. The two goofballs swayed to the music with large grins on their faces.

           The lively scene woke you up more. After you finished your breakfast you made your way into your office to get some work done. Thankfully, your job allowed you to work from home most days. Your office was decorated just the same as your grandfather had left it. Mahogany floors were covered with maroon rugs. One wall was lined with bookshelves, plush leather chairs sitting at either end. The other wall held a small fireplace. Your desk was a beautiful antique you’re certain your grandmother bought.

           An hour into your work, you heard the door open. You looked over your shoulder to find the usual suspect: Jungkook. He smiled at you sheepishly. It was a habit of his to spend time in your office as you worked. The quiet atmosphere and alone time with you recharged him.

“Kookie,” You called, waving him over to your desk. This was the usual routine. He would come in, pull a chair up to yours and shyly ask for pets. He still wasn’t comfortable being pet around the other boys and you respected his boundaries. A cute bunny smile lit up his face as he quickly tucked himself by your side and laid his head in your lap. With your free hand you gently stroked his soft ears. He let out a few happy noises.

           Minutes later Jungkook is snoozing in your lap, dreaming little bunny dreams. The door slowly opens to Yoongi. He carries a glass of water with him which he gently sets down for you. Purring, he nuzzles into your face. You smile up at him and he returns the expression. Usually, you would strike up conversation with Yoongi, but you did not want to disturb the sleeping rabbit. Just as silently as he came in, the jaguar left.

Once your satisfied with the amount of work you put in, you poke Jungkook’s’ nose to wake him up. He cutely scrunches his face before waking.

           “Wanna get movie night going?” Jungkook nods his head with a faint smile. He gets up and stretches, his height towering over you. Frankly, all the boys were taller than you. At first you thought they wouldn’t take you seriously as their caretaker, but it didn’t seem to be a problem. They did however, use your height to occasionally tease you. In a show of confidence, Jungkook brought your head into his chest in an embrace. You laughed into his shirt and wrapped your arms around his back.

           Jungkook heading into the living room while you veered toward Jimin’s room. Perhaps with a little prodding you could get him to join the festivities. You knocked at his door and got a response.

“Y/N?” he called.

“Yup. Can I come in?” Jimin opened the door for you, making sure to close it once you were inside. “How could you tell it was me?”

“The sound of your footsteps,” he answered with a light smile.

“Ah, yes, those ears are good for more than just making you cute,” you teased, tickling them. Jimin laughed and swatted at your hand.          

“Tonight, is movie night. I think we’re all going to watch the latest action film since it’s Jungkook’s night to choose. Do you want to come with?”

Jimin dropped his gaze and fiddled with his fingers, obviously wrestling with the decision.

“We can cuddle the whole time, just us. I’ll make sure the boys don’t bother you either.” The cat looked up with a large smile.

“Promise?” he asked.

“Pinky swear,” you said offering your pinky. He wrapped his with yours, sealing the deal.

           The smell of buttery popcorn filled your nose as you walked into the kitchen. Taehyung was rummaging in the pantry for other snacks. Hobi was pouring out drinks and Jin was making stove-top popcorn. You assumed the rest were prepping the living room.

“Guys,” you prompted, earning their attention. “Jimin is going to watch the movie with us…” Hobi let out a squeal of excitement while Jin did a funny victory dance. Tae popped his head out of the pantry, a bag of chips in his mouth. He let it drop in a dramatic show of surprise.

“But! You need to give him space. He’s still not totally comfortable around other hybrids. And I sort of promised to only cuddle with him.” Your voice trailed off at the end, but the boys heard it easily.

“Whhaaatt?” Taehyung blurted. Jin stopped dancing and frowned. Hobi literally whined, his ears flopping back on his head.

“It’s just one night!” you said. “I’ll dole out all the cuddles after this okay?” A chorus of mumbled ‘yeah’s followed.

In the living room, Jungkook was attempting to build a fort while Namjoon set up the television. Yoongi entered, arms full of blankets and pillows.

“Reinforcements,” Jungkook said with a grin. Yoongi laughed and let the pile fall to the floor. He ruffled the youngest’s hair before plopping down on the couch. Soon enough Hobi came in, hands dangerously full with drinks. Jin followed with several bowls of popcorn which smelled exactly like the cinema. Finally, Tae dumped his snack stash on the coffee table, a proud glint in his eyes. The boys all settled down, adjusting the lights and rationing out the refreshments.

           You entered with Jimin hot on your tail. He had himself wrapped in a fluffy blanket, his ears making it slip off his head. You guided him to the end of the couch where you acted as a barrier between him and the rest of the boys. Some gave him gentle smiles, others looked at him with utter excitement. Jimin however, kept his gaze low. You could feel how tense he was just sitting next to him.

           To calm him, you scratched behind his ears and let him snuggle up to you. The movie began to play, causing the attention to shift off Jimin. He soon had the blanket wrapped around the both of you. He hugged onto you like a koala bear, arms, legs and even his tail wrapped around you. Jimin pressed his face into the nape of your neck where he could easily breathe in your scent. Your steady heartbeat slowed his down and relaxed his tensed muscles.

           Continuous purrs echoed from his chest while he nuzzled your shoulder. You occasionally caught one of the boys looking over at you two with expressions of longing. Eventually, Jimin focused more on the movie than you and began to enjoy himself. He even cheered along with the others at a scene. When the credits rolled you got up and slowly brought the lights up. When you turned around, you found Yoongi talking quietly with Jimin. The calico cat seemed a bit shy, but you could tell he was giving him answers. Yoongi had a rather calming presence. If anyone could coax Jimin out of his shell, it would be him. The big cat even offered him some snacks that were out of his reach. Jimin took it cautiously but seemed happy at the offering.

           Jin came up and hugged you from behind. He rested his chin on the top of your head and murmured, “He’s making progress.”

“I know, it’s great.” At that moment you felt like Jin and you were proud parents looking over their children. Laughing at the thought, you turned around in his arms and returned the hug.

Jin suddenly exclaimed, “Ah ha! She’s all mine!” He scooped you up, laughing maniacally. The rest of the boys looked over at the scene. He looked down at you with a mischievous grin.

“You devious fox,” you said, laughing. Jin ran off into the depths of the house, the more extroverted boys (Hobi and Tae) following behind. You watched over Jin’s broad shoulders as the two scrambled after you, shouting in mock protest.

“No, she’s ours!” Hobi said with a grin.

“I’ll never hand her over!” Jin said, making a quick left turn into his bedroom. Unceremoniously he dropped you on the bed then playfully guarded you from the cat and dog. Jin’s tail swished back and forth as he played with the younger boys. Although he was the oldest, he was never above goofing around.

           Back in the living room, Jungkook and Namjoon were in deep discussion about the movie’s plot, while Yoongi carried on a tentative conversation with Jimin.

           “Do you like action films?” the big cat asked.

“I guess. I haven’t seen a lot of movies to know…”

“We have a lot of movie nights, when it’s your turn to choose I can help you.”

“Okay…that would be nice.”

“You know Jimin, the rest of us don’t have rosy pasts either. We understand. I don’t know the specifics, but we aren’t like the people that hurt you. Y/N wouldn’t let us stay here if we were.”

“I…I know that. You’re just all so close and I feel like an outsider.”

“The rest of the boys went through the same thing, being new to the house.”

           The more they talked, the more comfortable Jimin felt. Despite being a big cat, Yoongi was soft spoken and kind. Sure, his appearance made him seem cold and aloof, but underneath he was sweet as sugar. Jungkook noticed the two conversing and found his curiosity getting the better of him. As Namjoon began clearing the living room, the youngest wandered over to the couch and sat next to Yoongi. He leaned forward and asked Jimin, “Do you like video games?”

           The cat hesitated before shrugging. “I’ve never played them.”

Jungkook’s eyes lit up. “I can teach you. They’re really fun.”

“Okay,” Jimin said. Jungkook took his hand and led him over the TV where he let Jimin choose from the many titles available. Yoongi smiled at the two before he went into the kitchen to help Namjoon.

           That night you woke to the sound of your door shutting. Your room was still pitch black and you couldn’t make anything out. A deep voice whispered, “It’s just me. Sorry I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Yoongi?” You felt the covers being lifted before he crawled in beside you. His arms pulled you, so your head rested on his shoulder. You draped your leg and arm over him. Yoongi let out a breath.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said.

“Oh, more nightmares?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Sorry.” You lifted your head to press a kiss to his cheek. His chest vibrated with a dull purr. Hearing this, you began peppering kisses across his face. You still couldn’t see anything, but you imagined his face scrunching up. After a good ten smooches you rested your head on his shoulder again.

“Sleep tight,” you said.

“Night.”

Call Me Mistress – Ramen (M) (Part 3)

Summary: The Mistress has her first session with Ramen, her newest client.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 12,176

Warning: Sub!Jungkook, Domme!Reader, BDSM, femdom, sexual themes, nipple play, masturbation, teasing, edging, overstimulation, sex toys, profanity

Series: Call Me Mistress

A/N: If you thought Part 2 was something…Enjoy, dears!

Client List: Prologue | River (Namjoon) | Ramen (Jungkook): Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3 | (more forthcoming)

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On Keeping a Notebook

“Keepers of private notebooks are a different breed altogether, lonely and resistant rearrangers of things, anxious malcontents, children afflicted apparently at birth with some presentiment of loss…But our notebooks give us away, for however dutifully we record what we see around us, the common denominator of all we see is always, transparently, shamelessly, the implacable ‘I.’  We are not talking here about the kind of notebook that is patently for public consumption, a structural conceit for binding together a series of graceful pensées; we are talking about something private, about bits of the mind’s string too short to use, an indiscriminate and erratic assemblage with meaning only for its maker.”

by Joan Didion
(1966), in Slouching Towards Bethlehem, 1969, London: Andre Deutch.

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Princess - Part 1 (NSFW)

Summary: When Sam walks in on you in a very compromising position, he finds out one of your biggest secret, which happens to be his too.
Pairing: Future Daddy!Sam Winchester x Little Girl!Reader
Word Counting: 430 words
Chapter: 1/?
Warnings: Daddy Kink; D/s, brief mention of masturbation

Originally posted by cleverdame

“Y/N?”  Sam knocked on your door. “Y/N, are you in there?”

He frowned, wondering if he should enter. The food was ready and you had asked him to call you in your room when it was dinnertime. 

Sam had never entered your room. No one had. On your first day living in the bunker you had put on limits to the brothers; the only rule they couldn’t ever break was the room rule. No one entered your room without your express consent, and you never gave anyone consent. 

Sam wasn’t sure if your request earlier included an exception to your rule. He didn’t want to break it and didn’t want you to be mad at him but you weren’t answering, and he was there for a little while now. 

“Y/N, I’m entering, okay?” He announced, loud and clear.

No answer.

Hesitant, he opened your door. 

You see, when you had started decorating your room, they hadn’t had access to it at all. At first glance, Sam didn’t think there was anything too different in it from any other room. Of course, you had a couple of stuffed toys and DVD’s with bright coloured covers but who didn’t enjoy some guilty pleasure in any form every once in a while. Just then his eyes landed on you.

You were on the ground, lied down with headphones and fucking yourself with a vibrator.

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Missing (Eggsy Unwin Imagine)

A/N: Hey pals! Sorry, I’ve been away for so long - mock exams are getting crazy! I should be writing more soon, and I hope you enjoy this one! It’s my longest one yet - sorry it’s taken so long!

ALSO - if you're not following @flippingeggsy then what are you doing?

Warnings: kidnapping, swearing, violence, angst (it’s a jolly one…)

The gun in Eggsy’s hands shook imperceptibly next to the man’s head.

Blood trickled from a wound on his temple, trailing down his cheek and running over his lips. Eggsy didn’t seem to notice; he pressed the barrel harder into the man’s face.

“Where is she?” He hissed. A crackle sounded through his earpiece and he flinched.

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Start Over.

(a quick story on what happened after Dark walked away from the mirror…)


“Damien! Damien, it’s time to come out now! This game isn’t going on anymore!”
The Colonel had been wandering aimlessly through the whole manor twice now, this time peeking underneath chairs and around doors. The excitement of this little game of hide and seek was still buzzing inside him, even after three hours, and he was looking forward to finding his friends, seeing their faces of mocked disappointment and then laughter. Just like their school days. He was starting to appreciate Mark’s little get together. Strange how quiet the house seemed now though. Oh so quiet. Except for a light ringing in his ears that seemed to follow him. “Come on! Where are you hiding?”
“I’m here, William.” said a familiar voice.
The Colonel spun around fast to the voice and saw Damien standing in the doorway, loosely holding his cane in his hand. A smile instantly rose under William’s moustache, but it faded slightly as he observed Damien more carefully. Something was off. He looked untidy, which was unnatural for Damien; his usual flatly press shirt was now unbuttoned and open at the collar, and his pristine white bowtie was missing. His hair was no longer slipped back but dangling loosely over the side of his face, nearly covering his eye. And… was that eyeliner? A bruised black eye? Either way it brought out that rather intimidating stare he was giving him.
William laughed and clapped his hands as he slowly approached him. “Damien! Very well done. You really got me! For a while there I actually thought you were dead!” As he got to Damien, he reached out and held his arm, just to confirm he was really there. “My goodness, you look awful! Did a dog attack you or something?”
Damien glanced down at William’s hand. He knew by the straining ligaments in the his hand and the sharp creases of his blazer sleeve between William’s fingers that it was a tight and desperate grip… but he couldn’t feel it. One side of his mind reasoned that, well, obviously we wouldn’t be able to feel anything, being a corpse now. The other side of his mind just wanted to cry. Damien rested his cold hand on William’s and sighed. “… I had a small accident, yes.” He told him, stiffly tilting his neck to one side for a second.
The Colonel chuckled, “Well, it doesn’t matter now. I found you!” Scanning Damien’s body, he saw the cane and was reminded. “-Oh, also, you left these behind.” He pulled out of his pockets Damien’s black Mayor badge and his white bowtie, and passed them to Damien. “Wouldn’t want to go back to the office without them, would ya?” he chuckled again, his voice breaking, almost making his laughing seem like sobbing. “Now, where is Celine?” He let go of his friend and began to wander out of the room again, stumbling over his feet like a toddler. “Celine! Darling, where are you hiding?”
As William turned a corner, Damien stepped out of the doorway ahead of him. For a moment, the Colonel wondered how he got there so quick. “Celine is gone, Colonel.” Damien assured him. This was a lie. She was, in some ways, standing right in front of him.
William frowned a little in confusion. “…Gone? She left already? I didn’t see her go.” There was pause for thought. Damien’s mind was racing. Tell him the truth. No, that will make him madder than he already is. But it’s cruel, he’s our friend. He still thinks I’m Damien, I think that’s enough to keep him satisfied for now. But what about me?
Just as Damien was about to answer, William started to laugh. “She probably ran away! Yes. Couldn’t stand the failure of me finding her. She was never that good at hide and seek, even when we were young. You remember, our old games of hide and seek?”
Damien nodded. His mind gave a sigh, one of relief, one of frustration.
“Ah. Good times.” The Colonel began to pass Damien until he was stopped by Damien’s cane. In the distance was the sound of approaching police sirens.
Damien looked at him sternly. “Listen, Colonel. We have to go now.”
“Why? Go where?”
“Away from this house.” He began to head to a nearby door. “The police will be coming soon.”
William followed him, still perplexed. “Why? What’s happened?”
“Mark is dead.”
William stopped instantly. Damien hung back and cautiously watched as fear casted over William’s face. He stuttered, “… But he isn’t. I… I didn’t kill him. It was a joke, right?”
“Yes, it was a joke.” Damien insisted as he returned to William’s side and hooked his arm through his. He tugged William with him as he strode towards the door and said, “More sinister than a joke. It was a set up. Mark was angry at you and Celine so he set you up so you would get arrested.”
Letting Damien pull him towards the door, William pressed, “But he’s not dead. They can’t arrest me, I didn’t kill him. I didn’t kill anyone.”
“Yes, you didn’t. But that doesn’t matter to the police. They don’t care if the suspect is the real criminal or falsely accused; they just want to capture a bad guy, put him away, and get a promotion for it.” They reached the door, where Damien swung the Colonel in front of him so he could look him in the eye and tell him firmly, “Never trust the police, Colonel. Never.”
William nodded lightly, a little scared at how cold his friend’s gaze has gotten. “…Ok, I won’t in future.”
“Come on, then.” Damien open the door and walked outside.
William paused as he remembered. “Wait… what about Bully? They’re still in there.”
“They don’t matter now.” Damien called back as he continued to walk away and up the path that lead up to the mountain side. “Nothing does.”
William spotted that Damien left his cane leaning against the wall next to the door. Why would he leave it? He picked it up and ran after Damien, just as the police sirens stopped and car doors started to open and close.


The police wouldn’t have been able to stop them if they had saw them. Within the blink of an eye, Damien and William would have jumped an extra mile ahead of where they would have previously been seen. But still the hike was slow for them. Damien’s mind rushed with regrets of picking a body with a broken leg as well as a broken neck. Best to just teleport to places in future.
Suddenly William jumped to his side and put the cane back in Damien’s hand. “You seem to be hobbling there, old boy. Use your cane, for goodness sakes. You need it now more than ever before!” William chuckled.
Damien didn’t smile. He let the cane fall from his fingers. “It’s not mine anymore.” He walked on.
William picked the cane back up and tried to catch up to him. “But you’re the Mayor. This is yours. It was given to you by-”
“Not anymore!” Damien yelled, staring at William with the look of a snarling wolf. On seeing William retreat with a startled gaze, Damien looked away and sighed, trying to calm down. Rolling his shoulders, he growled, “Mark is the Mayor now.”
“How? Why?”
“Because he got away and… is pretending to be me.” He took my body. He took my life with it, actually. He felt his fists clenching up and his shell cracking. “I bet it was him who called the police on you. They believe him now, not me…” He sighed and looked to the ground. “I can’t be Damien anymore.” He looked back at William, who was shuffling his way closer, still holding tight to the cane. “And you can’t be Colonel William Warford anymore.”
William blinked in shock. “What? Why?”
“Because the police are looking for a Colonel William Warford! They’re probably on a man hunt for you. You’ll have to change your name so they don’t find you.”
His face fell to a pout fit for a guilty puppy’s face. “But…. I like ‘William’.”
Damien sighed and thought for a second. Let him have it. His nickname, at least. “… Will… You can have Will.”
His smile miraculously grew back as he cheered, “Yay! Will Warford.”
“Wilford.”
“Huh?”
Something that hadn’t appeared on Damien’s face for a small while showed up; a smile. It didn’t seem to suit him anymore. But he still smiled, because Wilford was smiling right back at him. “Wilford sounds better don’t you think?”
Wilford beamed. “… Yes. It sounds cleaner, authoritarian, powerful.”
“Suits you more than William, if I might say.” Damien said and they continued their trek down the mountain. They were coming close to a town. They would stay there for a while, just until they had thought out how they would get their lives back.
“What about you?” Wilford asked just to break the silence. “What’s your name gonna be now?”
Damien shrugged, “I don’t know.” After a small pause he admitted, “I wish I was still Damien.” His hands were in his pockets for the majority of the journey, the left hand was busy running the black silk of the Mayor badge he once wore through his fingers, the right hand was gripping the bowtie. His skin seemed to turn grey as anger built up inside him. “I wish this never happened. I wish it never had to be this way. I wish I had power enough to turn back time and stop all this happening to us… Or at least, I wish I had the power to go back and kill Mark myself when I had the chance.”
“Wow!” Wilford yelled suddenly, breaking Damien’s concentrated rage. He giggled nervously and said, “You got a little dark there, all of a sudden. Are you alright, Damien?”
Damien stopped walking. … That would be ironic wouldn’t it. It rhymes with the back-stabbing son of a bitch’s name anyway. Wouldn’t it make our justice a little sweeter?
He looked up with his new abnormally creepy smile. “… Dark.”
“Huh?”
Dark looked back to Wilford and told him, “Call me Dark from now on. Dark and Wilford. A nice fresh start for all of us.” He swung his arm around Wilford’s shoulders and rested it there as they both walked together.  
“Yeah. Dark and Wilford!… Wilford… War… Wilford War.” Wilford shook his head. “Doesn’t sound nice with just War on the end.”
“We’ll find something for you.” Dark assured.
Wilford looked around him, then at the cane he held. He gasped and held out the cane as he declared, “Wilford War-stick!”
Dark scowled at him. “…No.”
Wilford sighed disappointedly and looked around again. “Wilford War… branch!”
“No. That’s even worse.” Dark took his arm off Wilford’s shoulders and walked on ahead.
“Wilford Warburton?… War-butt-on! Haha!”
“Stop it.”


“Wilford Wardrobe!” Wilford announced, his voice muffled from the inside of the hotel cupboard.
Dark opened the cupboard door and scowled at Wilford who looked at him with an expression that was trying hard to contain a laugh. “It’s not funny anymore.” Dark groaned, hanging his blazer up on a wire hanger.
Wilford observed Dark’s sullen face and frowned. “You found it funny before? Even since we found each other after the chaos back at the manor, I haven’t heard you laugh, not even mockingly. It’s like you’ve suddenly changed, Damien.”
Dark’s lip twitched and he growled, “… I have changed. For a start, I’m not Damien anymore!!”
Wilford flinched. He had not seen Damien- sorry, Dark, in this way. It was usually him who would snap at Dark, and Dark would retreat or just give up having the argument with him. Now… Wilford felt scared to anger him. Not because he was scared of getting hurt. But because he was scared Dark was going to get sick of him and leave him.
Dark saw the fear in Wilford’s eyes through his rose-tinted glasses. That was uncalled for. Let him say it. He’s known ‘Damien’ for years, it’ll take a while to adjust. “… Sorry.” Dark mumbled. “I’m sorry Will. I… I don’t mean to hurt you.”
“It’s fine.” Wilford said as he began to climb out of the cupboard. “Mark has obviously made you angry. He’s made me a little peeved too. Trying to play dead on me so that blasted bastard detective would put me away. Ha!” He walked into the bathroom and continued calling to Dark, “To be honest, the detective is the only person I wish this whole ‘playing dead’ thing wasn’t a joke! Haha!”
Dark didn’t answer. Both sides of him saddened.
“I think I should change my appearance.” Wilford abruptly called out from the bathroom.
Dark blinked. “Sorry?”
Wilford took off his glasses and looked into the mirror. He brushed his moustache with the tips of his fingers. “Well, if I change my name, I should change how I look too! Like you did! You’ve changed from Damien to Dark, and also changed from a well-suited Mayor to a bummed-out businessman! Haha!”
“…Yes.” Dark said. He had moved to the waste bin and turned out his pockets. He took out his bowtie and stared at it. He wondered… He walked to the bathroom. “Here.” he said, placing his bowtie on the side of the sink. “I don’t need this anymore.”
Wilford stared at the bowtie for a while. He smiled. It reminded him of Damien. He held it up to his collar. Nice, but it need to be a bit more colourful. The sound of wood snapping came from the other room and Wilford peeked out to see Dark had snapped his cane in half. He put the broken pieces in the waste bin along with the Mayor badge. Wilford huffed and laughed, “You really are taking this disguise thing seriously!”


Wilford had been gone for a while; he said he had an idea and needed to go to the launderette. Dark sat in the room alone. Well, as alone as a body with two souls could be. There was a deep conversation going on inside his mind.
He’s not going to continue acting like ‘Mayor Damien’. Yeah, he’s got a new identity he can use, so he’s probably going to find another life to live. He could be anywhere. Not so, there’s still a chance we can find him. He’s in your body anyway, I’m sure you’d be able to sense him whenever he’s near. …Maybe. It’s still going to be difficult, like finding a needle in a hay stack. But remember, this is a very shiny needle. If he’s still as pompous and arrogant, and still pursuing show business, he’ll be shouting where he is to the sky and back. …Possibly. You need to be more positive about this. …How can I be positive while a head-up-his-own-ass fucker is walking around in my body while we’re both stuck in this broken, numb carcass and have to be tied to the trigger-happy madman our friend has become?! Damien! … I’m sorry, Celine. It’s just… it’s not fair. Hey, think about the soul this body belongs to, trapped in that horrible mansion. Do you think they’re having a fairer time than us? …No. I can’t believe you made me do that, to throw them out, our friend that you helped get a job, the friend that trusted us. If you’re so mad about it, then why did you come along for this ride?
“Ha ha ha HA!” The door to the room was kicked open. Wilford tip-toed into the room holding his coat over his body to hide from Dark like a curtain.
“What did you do?”
Wilford dropped the coat and stood tall with his arms out wide. “Ta-da!” He didn’t look much different; only four things had changed. One, he wasn’t wearing his glasses, two, his suspender had faded from red to pink, and three, on his collar of his mustard shirt he wore a bowtie as equally pink as the suspenders. But the fourth change really caught Dark’s eye. His once thick brown moustache was now trimmed to a curly perfection and coloured a beautiful rosy pink. With a proud smile and a flourishing bow, he announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, Wilford Warfstache!”
As soon as the coat dropped Dark had been staring at Wilford with wide eyes and mouth agape. Wilford held his pose waiting for a response eagerly; he spent a good few hours trying to wash out his suspenders with his new bowtie, while also trying to find the right Kool Aid drink-mix power that would give a similar rosy shade to his moustache. After a moment of utter silence, Dark smiled a genuine smile and said, “… It’s incredible!”
Wilford released himself from his pose and picked up his coat to hang it up. “Do you think the pink will stand out a bit too much?”
Dark nodded, “Absolutely. It’s pompous and wild and unorthodox. Suits you down to the ground.”
Wilford smiled at Dark as he headed into the bathroom. “Thank you!” He went to mirror to admire his handy work, never losing his wide and childish smile. He sighed, “Goodness, if only Celine was here to see this. What will she think?”
“… She’d be proud of you, Will.”
Wilford peeked around the door to Dark, who was walking over to him. “You think so?”
Dark was still smiling, but there was something in his expression. Uncertainty? Or was it pride? Either way he looked at Wilford in the same way a parent looks at their child accomplishing their dreams. “I know so.” Dark answered.
For some reason that sentence hit him hard in the chest. Almost as if Celine was right in front of him, which made him feel ecstatic. He walked up to Dark and surprised him with a tight hug. “Thanks, Dark.” Dark patted his back carefully, he didn’t want his shell to shatter just yet. Wilford finally pulled away from Dark and made his way to his room for bed; it had been a heavy past few days, but he didn’t really mind. All his friends were alive, Dark was going to stick with him for a while, and he got to express himself, finally, after so many years of intense mental and physical battles.
Damien? Yeah? Moments like that are why I came along for the ride.

CHAPTER FIVE: HE’S YOUR FRIEND?

PLOT SUMMARY: a multichapter imagine fic where the reader is dustin’s older siblings. follows along directly with the events of season 2. she’s friends with nancy, and drama ensues. over the course of the fic we see how the reader reacts to new challenges and a new romantic interest.  ( inspired by two other imagines that i literally can’t find for the life of me. )

CHAPTER SUMMARY: reader is in the dark about a lot, and suddenly.. she’s forced to see the truth at the side of her brother…..and steve.

PAIRING: SLOWBURN Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

WARNING: Swearing and Spoilers

CHAPTERS: ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR.

WORD COUNT: 2.8K+

You spent another day not talking to or seeing Nancy, or Johnathan either for that matter. They had been completely off the radar. You tried calling the Wheelers, and Mrs. Wheeler said that Nancy was over at Ally’s which – you knew wasn’t true ( because you had literally gone out of your way to call Ally ). And on top of that, you couldn’t check in on Johnathan because the Byers just never answer their phone anymore. You had gotten to the level of desperation of asking Dustin if he could get into contact with Mike or Will but  - he didn’t seem to have any luck either. You had even considered calling Steve to ask if he knew where Nancy was but. After their breakup you didn’t want to even mention her around him in risk of making him crumble. And besides, you and him had talked on the phone for like an hour, last night. Call him again you might reek a little a desperation.

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1.5k words of Neil getting flustered daydreaming about Andrew. A little nsfw, and a lot silly. I ended up listening to more than just Charlie XCX’s Boys, but safe to say the rest of the music had the same theme.


Neil isn’t a one-track-mind kind of person, as much as Andrew might suggest otherwise – years on the run taught him to multitask, to prioritize but not overlook anything. Unlike Kevin, even when he’s focused on Exy he can still think about survival, about his friends, his classes, about Andrew.

Well – Could. Usually.

Neil was in class, in a class, in some…sort of class that he definitely can’t currently remember the name of, doodling absentmindedly in his notepad for who knows how long, when there’s a cough above him. His professor is stood above him, looking exasperated, and Neil notices that the rest of the students are pretty much gone; class must have finished without him realizing. The aforementioned professor nods down at his notes with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, at least you weren’t sleeping.” She says, and Neil follows her gaze and realizes that his notepad has maybe two lines of notes, the rest just covered in doodles. The little fox prints and Exy sticks are par for the course, but he flushes and not-so-subtly moves his arm to cover the page to hide the cigarettes and keys and half-drawn profiles that are a little more damning.

Neil mumbles a ‘sorry’ and bolts from the class as quickly as possible, but things only go downhill from there.

Listen. It’s been two weeks since he’s seen Andrew, which is thirteen days too long if he’s honest – Neil has had the luxury of Andrew being in kissing distance almost constantly for the last few years, and now he’s off playing professional Exy and Neil is distracted.

The last time they were together Andrew must have sensed Neil’s desperation and anxiety about their coming separation because he had been heavy and rough, had pressed in close enough that Neil could feel the weight of him all over, always so solid. Then Andrew had slipped his hands under Neil’s thighs and with a harried ‘yes’ mumbled between kisses, lifted Neil fully off the ground, pressing his back up against the door to their room in Columbia and tugging at his legs until they encircled Andrew’s waist.

Neil had gone very very still for a good fifteen seconds while his brain processed what was happening (before coming to the conclusion that he was definitely, absolutely, a hundred percent on board). Andrew had kept still while he did, allowing Neil that time only to press back in close to him, all dense muscle and warm skin, till Neil was pressed up tight against the door, barely able to move but for the unintentional roll of his hips when his body decided that yes, this was very good, more please.

“Yes?” Andrew had asked, one hand coming up to trace Neil’s mouth, still lax in his surprise.

“Yes,” Neil had finally managed to get out, and then, “Yes, Andrew, fuck, yes, yes—”, only to be cut off by Andrew replacing his hand with his mouth, catching Neil’s plush bottom lip, already swollen with kisses, between his teeth as his hand moved down to lightly rest against Neil’s neck.

Which was good, was great, but then Neil had the abrupt and somewhat life changing realization that Andrew was holding him up with one arm. Neil certainly wasn’t keeping himself up.

Neil had pulled back a little, panting, thinking briefly that the light flush across Andrew’s cheeks looked good on him but then, also: oh, and something like wow oh god his arms why haven’t we done this before. And maybe he said that out loud or thought it so hard that Andrew somehow picked up on it, because his expression had gone distinctly knowing and maybe a little smug.  

“You’re drooling.”

“I’m not,” Neil had argued, but his conviction only lasted long enough for him to swipe at his mouth and find Andrew wasn’t lying.

“Are you done? Or am I going to have to give you and my arms some alone time?”

Andrew wasn’t serious, but the sudden flash of images that occupied Neil’s thoughts had him half-tempted to say yes and see what happened. Instead, he’d spent one last moment admiring the stretch of Andrew’s shirt across the top of his biceps, the strain of his muscles as he held Neil in place, the veins and the light freckles and the pale tan lines on his forearms. The contrast between his own darker skin against Andrew’s, the way Neil could feel him flex, feel the shift of solid muscle against him – the implicit power behind it had sent a dizzy rush of warmth to his cheeks, and a low moan threatened in his chest.

Then he had turned fully back to Andrew, and found himself soundly distracted.

Until now. Where, for some reason, his brain couldn’t stop thinking about it. He felt itchy and warm and like he definitely shouldn’t be attempting to captain right now, when Robin and a couple of their freshman recruits were watching him worriedly as he fumbled his second easy shot at the goal in the last ten minutes. He could imagine the unimpressed look on Kevin’s face, the muttering about letting yourself be distracted is idiotic and out gay athletes struggle and I’m perfect so I never think about anything but the game blah blah blah. He could also imagine the face Andrew would make, and the balls he would send in the direction of Kevin’s shins, but then Neil was distracted thinking about the power behind Andrew’s throws and the way his sweat-slick shirt would cling to his body; emphasizing how his shoulder muscles bunched and smoothed out, the hint of skin between his sleeves and his armbands drawing Neil’s eyes like a sunflower to the sun.

Maybe the ‘moth to a flame’ metaphor would be more appropriate because Neil thought he might actually kill himself by walking into traffic or something equally stupid today, and Andrew would have to raise him from the dead just to tell him how idiotic he was. Although if Andrew was digging up his grave for necromantic purposes, that would mean they were at least in touching distance – which was more than could be said currently.


So. Practice went like that, and the rest of the day is more of the same, until Robin stops him from joining the rest of the team for an impromptu movie night and smiles like he’s a dog that’s too old and stupid to bother telling off for peeing on the carpet or humping someone’s leg. He tries not to grimace, facing the embarrassment that comes with her knowing him too well.

“Go and call Andrew. You’re a mess,” was all she had said, but it was enough that he would have flushed to his roots if he had the complexion for it. As it was, he’d just gone very warm and made as swift an exit as he could without outright running.

Listen.

It’s been two weeks and an entire day, which is fourteen too long, and Neil is done. He holes himself up in his bedroom with his back to the door, and bites the proverbial bullet. The phone rings twice before Andrew picks up.

“Neil,” Andrew says by way of answer, and Neil is suddenly thankful that he didn’t call Andrew in public, because his knees almost buckle under him just from hearing his voice.

“Neil?”

“I’m fine!”

“Well, that’s good,” Andrew says slowly, tone moving away from concerned and settling somewhere near to amused. “Is that all you wanted to tell me?”

“No,” Neil replies, suddenly feeling foolish for calling Andrew for no reason other than missing him. God, and it’s only been two weeks.

“How is your new team?” He asks finally, settling on something innocuous to avoid saying something like I can’t get your dumb biceps out of my head I think I might need you to set up a live stream of you on the bench press or I might die. Or any one of the hundred other stupid things he wants to say: I miss you, or I keep thinking about the last time I saw you or I don’t know how I’m going to be able to last a year like this.

“Fine,” Andrew tells him after a moment, “Kevin keeps bugging me to ask how your captaincy is going. I told him he could ask you himself when you get here tomorrow.” It’s a promise and a reminder all in one, but mostly it’s a relief – that Andrew knows him, that he’s only a short flight away, that he isn’t being forgotten. He lets out a slow breath that he feels like he’s been holding all day, his body relaxing the longer he’s on the phone with Andrew.

“I was thinking about the last time we were together,” he blurts after a little while, and curses himself immediately. But then he hears the sound of rustling on the other end of the phone, like Andrew is getting comfortable on a sofa, or his bed.

And then Andrew says, “Oh?” with something like curiosity, and Neil lets himself smile.

here’s a lil hc of the boys + valentines day gifts

  • okay so matt is in love with neil that has been confirmed yes? yes. so every v day he buys neil cliche items like a ridiculously large teddy bear and a bunch of roses and those terrible chocolates. 
  • and neil doesnt like chocolate but he eats them anyway because its the thought that counts. and also now he has a room full of stuffed bears??
  • anyway every time matt buys neil a present he gets all wide-eyed, rapid blinking, confusion morphing into soft smiles, nose scrunches, embarrassment and its?? beautiful. 
  • so andrew and neil dont usually do much on v day. they just chill out and eat ice cream and go on a late-night drive with the windows down and their mixtape playing quietly in the background. 
  • but then andrew sees neil being all smiley and pink-stained cheeked and hes like. that does it. its my turn. (also he just wants neils attention) (he always does)

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The Lost Soldier | Tom Holland

Summary: During World War II, a brave soldier passes through enemy lines and finds himself lost in the wilderness. Eventually, the lost solider finds a small village and a young widow graciously allows the soldier to stay in her home for a single night…

Warning: mentions of injury, some violence, slight mention of blood, tension

Pairing: Tom Holland r x reader

MASTERLIST


There was nothing friendly about the raging blizzard. In the blizzard, there was no way to know which direction to go and the usual landmarks were hidden behind the white flakes that swirled so viciously. The lost soldier raised his hand to shield his eyes from the blinding winds.

The gale whipped each flake into a projectile that stung the unguarded skin. The soldier slowly lifted his foot and placed it in front of the other, forcing himself to keep moving. His body was aching, and his reasonably new battle wounds were bleeding violently. All he could do was to bow his head until his chin touched his chest and keep walking.

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