written in 2nd person

self discipline tips

here are tips I discovered very recently:

  • something is better than nothing. 5 minutes of work are better than zero. Just because you missed something on your schedule doesn’t mean you can’t still work on it, even for 5 minutes. Grow and build on this.
  • second drafts / reviews can be done after.
    • Don’t think you are going to do your very best work on the first try. Take the weight of perfectionism off your shoulders.
  • don’t think about doing it. just do it as fast as you can.
  • build on your productivity, not your failures.
    • If you come from a past of procrastinating and now feel motivated to change and discipline yourself, do NOT try to do everything at once.
    • if you have a set of different goals to accomplish, begin with the most important one. Wait until the rotine of working for that one settles in (you feel productive and comfortable-ish), and then begin with the next. Repeat.
    • this way you’ll be building your way up and not juggling everything at the same time, hoping everything works out.
    • be patient with yourself, you’ll get there!
  • set smaller deadlines for your goals
    • have monthly and weekly-ish deadlines
    • e.g. if you are doing a project, due 22nd Feb, set personal deadlines, like have Introduction written by 2nd Feb, have Methods written by 10th Feb, have project complete by 18th Feb.
    • take them as seriously as you possibly can, don’t miss out on yourself.
    • write realistic daily tasks and don’t stop until you finish them. after them you can do whatever you want
      • on writing realistic daily tasks, the secret is knowing you can only do so much in one day, but trusting you can accomplish everything in the course of any period of time (a week, or 2 weeks or a month, etc.) because you will combine the work from all these different days.
      • it’s very tempting to write down all the tasks you need to accomplish in one day to just get over with it, but the real deal is you won’t accomplish half of them. You’ll feel very unproductive then, wich leads to demotivation.
      • spread daily tasks in the time necessary.
  • have a consistent sleep schedule.
    • if your mind isn’t ready everything will fall apart.
  • have one rest day per week where you plan nothing, do whatever you want except studying. this can be harder than you expect!

(don’t forget these are effective only if you actually put them into practice! good luck babes!!)

52 short stories in 52 weeks

1. A story entitled “A New Beginning”.

2. A story about rising to a challenge.

3. A retelling of a fairytale.

4. A story about three siblings.

5. A story set in London.

6.  A story about finding something that has been lost.

7. A story about a journey.

8. A story set during a war.

9. A creepy story.

10. A story featuring a countdown.

11. A story set at a full moon.

12. A story about a contest or competition.

13. A story that takes place entirely inside a vehicle. 

14. A story from a villain’s perspective.

15. A story set at a concert or festival.

16. A story that begins with a gunshot.

17. A story set in a country you’ve never been to.

18. A story about a historical figure.

19. A story set in a theatre.

20. A story written in 2nd person narrative.

21. A story set on another planet.

22. A story written from the perspective of someone dead/undead

23. A story about a birthday.

24. A story that ends on a cliffhanger.

25. A story set at the summer solstice.

26. A story about nostalgia.

27. A story that features a song or poem.

28. A story that ends at sunrise.

29. A story opening with the words “F*** you!”

30. A story about a magical object.

31. A story set at sea.

32. A story about a curse.

33. A story set 100 years in the future.

34. A story about loneliness.

35. A story that features a real recent newspaper article.

36. A story written from an animal’s perspective.

37. A story about a scientific discovery.

38. A story inspired by a recently observed stranger.

39. A story with only one character.

40. A story about a secret.

41. A romance that ends in tragedy.

42. A tragedy that ends in romance.

43. A retelling of a recent Hollywood movie.

44. A story that takes place the year you were born.

45. A story about a near-death experience.

46. A story about anger.

47. A story about a magic spell.

48. A story set in a strange small town.

49. A story about justice being done.

50. A creation myth.

51. A story set at Christmas.

52. A story entitled “The End”.

When they said they were sending you back to your people, sending you home, you thought they meant Earth. But then you hear the Commander’s voice. You see the Hephaestus coming to fetch you. And you realise almost all of your people are on that ship. Maybe Minkowski and Hera and Lovelace are the closest thing you know to ‘home’ anyway.

You need to get back to them, to tell them what you’ve seen and heard. Your mind is buzzing with things you don’t understand. But soon you’ll see the smartest people you know again. Maybe they’ll be able to make sense of it.

You can’t wait to laugh with them about how absurd it all is, that you’re the first human ever to speak with these aliens. Somehow Douglas Eiffel, certified screw-up, became ambassador of mankind. Minkowski will love that.

Keep reading

phone sex with the rfa (+ v and unknown)

given that one of the biggest part of mysme is phone calls, i couldn’t help but indulge myself and imagine what actual phone sex would be like with the rfa (which includes v and unknown also, in separate universes, but i digress) so here are some thoughts that i would organize into drabbles if i were less of a scaredy-cat

nsfw and EXTREMELY LONG bc i have no soul

Keep reading

Sugared Lies

Warnings: Emotional manipulation, emotional abuse, and berration. Also, this is written in 2nd person POV. That’s not many people’s cups of tea so I figure I should warn you of that.

Summary: Deceit lies.

He tastes like sugar but his aftertaste is bitter. But he loves you and even when you’re rubbing your tongue, willing the bitterness away, his voice echoes in your ears.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

It’s thick, poisonous, and coated with dishonesty but you eat it up anyway. Each time you swallow the lies become more razor-sharp but who else will tell you they love you? Who else will tell you that you’re gorgeous and everything they want.

“Anxiety,” he never uses your name even though he knows it, “you mean everything to me.”

And when you begin distancing yourself from him you feel strangely cold but also brave. You’ve never felt brave before.

The others don’t accept you with open arms but their company is much softer than Deceit’s. Roman’s words are harsh but they’re true. Logan’s are cold but they’re true. Patton’s are funny and sweet and they’re…

True.

You try to go back and duck out but as soon as you do, everyone is in your room begging you to come back. Scared but feeling like maybe you’re needed, you come back and tell them your name, which they use and it’s crazy. It feels odd and wrong but also right and and and…

And he’s angry. “You’re not one of them, dumbass. Don’t be fooled.”

He speaks a language of lies and manipulation that you’re sick of.

“But they care,” you snap.

“I care more.”

Bull

Shit.

Deceit speaks a language of bull shit. Of lies. Of manipulation. You’re sick of it. Sick.

“Liar.”

He sneers and one side of his face begins to look more serpent-like and it terrifies you.

“You’ll never be accepted, Anxiety. They’ll grow tired of you.”

You run until you can’t anymore and collapse on the floor of the living room in the mindscape and Roman stands above you, eyebrow raised.

“Are you all right, Virgil?”


You don’t feel like lying, not ever. The image of the serpent-face burns in your mind. “No.”


Roman bends down, cups your chin and smiles. “Well. I’m sorry about that. Maybe I can help a little?”


He sits down and starts rambling about something silly. He asks for your input. He laughs at your sarcasm and punches your shoulder lightly when you playfully insult him.


“I like spending time with you,” he says and it’s not syrupy or sweet. It’s said casually and so genuinely it knocks you off your game for a moment.


“They’ll grow tired of you.”


Deceit lies.

Always For You

Summary: Reader and Bucky are attending one of Tony’s parties together, but with you in that dress, Bucky has other things in mind

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Prompt(s): Imagine walking into the room and the sight of you in your gown leaves (Marvel Character) speechless.

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it,) swearing, alcohol 

Word Count: 2 089

A/N: This is my entry for @cleolemonfanfiction   ‘s Marvel Smut Writing Challenge so enjoy :)

I feel like I should have written this in 2nd person but I always write in 3rd person so.

- H

Y/N frowned as she stared in the mirror, slowly moving her hands down the sides of her body and over the curves of her hips to feel the silky material of the dress Nat had picked out for her.

Deep burgundy, floor length, low cut and form-fitting with a long slit up to her left thigh, the dress was, admittedly, perfect for the black-tie charity event Tony was throwing in the upper floors of Avengers Tower. That, however, didn’t change the fact that she would much rather be curled up in bed with Bucky than wearing a ridiculous dress ready for a fancy party. 

There was a knock on her door, quickly drawing Y/N out of her bubble of self-critique. “Y/N? You ready in there?”

The reality of what she was about to do dawned on her at the sound of Bucky’s voice, and at that moment she wanted nothing more than to lock herself in her room and never leave.

“Yeah,” Y/N called, sighing deeply as she took one last look at herself in the mirror in an attempt to brace herself. There was no going back now. “Coming.”

She quickly grabbed the black clutch purse sat on her dresser and walked over to her door, the sound of her heels against the wooden flooring mocking her with every step. 

Y/N felt her insides melt the second she opened the door. Dark hair slicked back, cleanly shaven and clad in a black suit that did wonders to his figure, Bucky looked like a completely different person, and she would have been lying if she had said she wasn’t thoroughly enjoying it.

Too busy swooning to realise, Y/N noticed Bucky’s completely dumbstruck look and looked down to the ground quickly, feeling her cheeks heat with a fiery blush. 

“Is it that awful?” She asked quietly, glancing up at Bucky before moving her gaze back to her feet.

“No,” Bucky breathed, his words catching in his throat. “The opposite- Y/N you look… Breathtaking.”

Y/N couldn’t help but bite her lip as she looked back up at him, feeling the familiar dull ache in her heart that still seemed to emerge every time she was with him. 

“Well,” She started, taking one step forward so they were almost chest to chest, a faint smirk still on her lips. “You don’t clean up to bad yourself, Barnes.”

Y/N only just saw him smile back at her before he was leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to her lips. She smiled into it, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck to press him even closer against her.

“Buck,” Y/N warned as he began to trail a path of wet kisses along her jaw, hands moving to sit firmly on her hips. “We’re already late.”

“Then we can spare a few more minutes.” 

His mouth moved down her neck, and she just managed to bite back the moan that had threatened to rise as he sucked on the sensitive spot he knew sat near the base of her throat.

Bucky was biting his lip when she pulled away, his eyes scanning every inch of her body, and it took all of her self-control not to just pull him back into her room by the tie and skip the party altogether.

It took a moment of trying to gain her composure before she could continue. “We can do whatever you want after the party. Deal?”

Seemingly intrigued, Bucky raised his head slightly to look her straight in the eye. A faint shiver ran up her spine as she saw the faint traces of pure carnality spark in his eyes. “Whatever I want?” He asked, eyebrow raised.

Y/N was quiet, pausing to contemplate whether her next response would be a blessing or turn around to bite her in the ass later that night. “Whatever you want,” She repeated.

Bucky looked her up at down once more before letting a devilish smile spread across his face. “Well, let’s go then.”

If Tony Stark knew how to do one thing, he knew how to throw a party. The large room was bustling almost to the brim, and there was a constant, cheerful chatter that almost completely drowned out the soft music being played.

Y/N stood leaning against the bar with Nat, engaged in a primarily single sided conversation that she hadn’t been making a lot of effort to pay attention to. She had been trying to concentrate, she really had, but with the tipsy sensations slowly spreading through her body with each sip of champagne and that the fact that she could see Bucky glance at her out of the corner of her eye meant that concentration had been rendered ten times more difficult.

“You know he’s been staring at you for the past twenty minutes.”

Y/N’s eyes flicked up from her glass - which she was mindlessly tilting side to side, watching the golden liquid swirl around the edges - and up to Nat. “He hasn’t been staring,” She remarked, a sentence that Nat happily ignored before continuing.

“It’s that dress, I swear to God.”

“And who’s fault is this dress?” She asked accusingly, smiling behind her glass as she raised it to her lips.

“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing!” Nat exclaimed. “It’s a ‘get laid’ dress if there ever was one.”

“Nat!” Y/N scoffed, hitting her in the arm with the back of her hand but laughing at her comment nonetheless.

“What! You know I’m right.”

Y/N was silent as she glared across at her friend, running her tongue over her teeth in annoyance.

“That’s what I thought. Now, I’m gonna go find Wanda; go give your boy toy some attention before people start to notice the drool.” 

With one last smirk, Nat took a step backwards and spun on her heel, leaving Y/N cursing her slowly retreating figure.

Sighing deeply, Y/N placed her glass down on the bar and turned so that she was facing Bucky’s side of the room.

He had his side facing her, and she watched with an ache blooming in her chest as he smiled widely at something Steve said; watched how his chest moved as he laughed, and couldn’t help the warm smile that spread across her own features.

Seemingly feeling her eyes on him, Bucky turned his head to the side, his already existing smile only widening when he saw the way she was watching him.

Excusing himself from the conversation with only one snarky comment from Sam, Bucky turned fully and began weaving through the thin crowd of guests towards the bar.

Bottom lip caught between her teeth, Y/N took slow, languid steps forward, only managing to get a few feet away from her starting position before Bucky was standing in front of her.

They were both reaching out to each other as soon as they were close enough, Bucky’s hands sliding down her waist until they sat on her hips and Y/N’s arms wrapping loosely around his neck.

“Is it too early to cash in on that offer?” 

“Offer?” Y/N repeated, raising her eyebrows as she tilted her head to the side slightly.

“I remember you saying something about ‘whatever I want’ earlier,” Bucky noted, his smile turning into more of a sly smirk than anything else.

“Buck,” Y/N said, voice so dangerously slow it was almost sultry, teasing. “You know we’ve only been here for an hour, right?”

“It might as well’ve been an eternity with your wearing this dress,” He remarked, his hands moving back up and down her waist. “You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me, doll.”

Biting her lip and doing her best to ignore the goosebumps that raised on the back of her neck, Y/N took a half step forward so that they were pressed flush against each other and pushed up on her toes. “I think I could probably guess,” She whispered in his ear, breath hot against his neck. 

Y/N smiled as she heard his breath catch in his throat and felt his grip tighten on her hips.

“Are we taking this downstairs?” She asked, still just inches away from his ear.

“God, yes.”

Bucky wasted absolutely no time once he and Y/N were back in her room. He kissed her hard as his body pressed hers against her door, hands squeezing and groping down her sides. 

He slid one arm behind her, grasping the zipper of her dress and pulling it down harshly. Y/N just managed to push his suit jacket off of his shoulders and onto the ground before his hands were at her waist, and he didn’t have to tug hard at the silk soft material of her dress before it was sliding down her body and revealing the black lace bra and panties she wore under it.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” And he was on his knees in front of her, trailing sloppy, wet kisses from the edge of her panties upwards as he slowly stood up, hands gripping her hips so hard there would surely be bruises the next morning.

“Oh, would you hurry up already,” Y/N whined, grabbing his tie and pulling him up so that she could catch his lips in a rough kiss. 

Still holding his tie, she pulled Bucky to the side along with her and curved so that she was walking backwards towards her bed.

Quickly kicked her heels off and to the side, Y/N bent her knees one by one and climbed onto the side of the bed, her hands fumbling to undo his tie before quickly moving to his shirt while he went to work on his belt. 

She smiled against him as she reached the last button on his shirt and pushed it to the floor, and it was soon joined by Bucky’s pants and boxers as he pulled them both down

Y/N couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her as Bucky pushed her back, finally breaking their kiss, as he climbed onto the bed and between her legs.

His metal hand snaked behind her back to her bra, almost snapping the clasp as he pulled it off her chest and tossed it to her shoulder. “You better be ready for me, Doll, because there is no way I can take this slow.”

"Always for-” And he was kissing her hard, not giving her any time to finish her sentence before he was slamming into her.

Y/N screamed his name as he immediately started his fast pace, fucking her into the mattress so hard his pelvic bone brushed against her clit.

“Fuck, Doll you’re so tight, feel so fucking good.“ He hissed, burying his face into her hair, his breath hot and heavy on her neck as she arched her back against him, moving to dig her nails into his back.

Without warning, Bucky gripped onto Y/N’s legs and hitched them over his shoulders, creating a new angle that let him hit even deeper inside of her with every thrust.

"Fuck!” She screamed, already feeling the familiar tight knot in the bottom of her stomach begin to wind.

“You looked so fucking good in that dress, Doll; could’ve fucked you in the middle of that room.”

His words alone almost sent her over the edge, but with the feel of Bucky stretching her walls and his hot breath against her skin and the sounds of their bodies moving together that filled the room she felt her release coming closer and closer.

“Fuck, Bucky I’m gonna come. Don’t stop- Fuck, James!” She cried, nails digging deeper into his back as she felt him shift slightly so that he brushed her g-spot with every thrust.

“That’s it, baby, scream my name for me.” Bucky’s thrust got slipper as he spoke, and she knew he was close as well. “Come for me, baby, I know you can do it.”

All it took was one last snap of his hips before Y/N was coming completely undone under him, screaming his name as her orgasm washed over her in waves.

And Bucky was right behind her, the feel of her walls contracting around him all he needed to be sent over the edge, catching Y/N’s lips in a bruising kiss that stifled both of their moans.

Bucky softened their kiss as they both came down from their highs, settling his weight on top of her.

“I love you so fucking much, Doll,” He whispered, forehead leant against hers as he pulled out of her.

Y/N gave a breathless laugh. “I love you too.”

REQUEST // MASTERLIST

TAGLIST:

Permanent Tag: @sebastianstanslefteyebrow

anonymous asked:

consent fest anon here! :) i honestly like them all so I guess I'll give my favorites. Hmm I love forced proximity, secretly dating, getting together, slow burn, post war/8th year. Either is fine. Def explicit. I'm not huge on casefic atm but I don't even know if that applies here? I love a good background rarepair. Pansy/luna, pansy/ginny, Blaise/Ron, pansmione, honestly love them all tho. Hope that helps? This was harder than I expected..

Hi nonnie! Thank you for giving me some more details, it was super helpful in putting this list together :) I tried to do a range of length but a lot of them ended up being what I’d call medium. They are listed alphabetically!

(Keep in mind I haven’t read all the CF fics yet, but I dearly loved all the ones I have read - would totally recommend everyone check the fest out and I’m happy to do more short rec lists like this if you send me some specifications.)


A Gift for Draco by @norelationtoatticus  33k - E

Though their new relationship is going well, both Harry and Draco have trouble communicating and are holding back from taking things to the next level–both emotionally and sexually. When Harry decides he is ready for more, he stumbles over how to start the conversation, but figures out a plan with the help of his friends. He comes up with the perfect Valentine’s Day gift to show Draco trust, commitment, and desire: sexy pictures of his naked arse. Thankfully, Pansy Parkinson has a camera and is willing to help…

Eighth year, Harry and Draco are together but Harry asked to take things slow and doesn’t know how to reopen the conversation. No side pairings, but lots of awesome friendship moments with side characters, including most notably Pansy taking sexy photos of Harry so he can give them to Draco for Valentine’s Day. It’s not a traditional slow burn because they’re together the whole time, but the slow build throughout the fic is really fantastic. Also did I mention Pansy taking sexy photos of Harry so he can give them to Draco??


It’s Been Draco For A While by @oceaxereturns - 15.5k - E

What harm can a love potion do if you’re already in love?

In which Harry finds out that it’s not a love potion but it can do quite a lot of harm, and Draco finds out how fiendishly difficult it is to fend off his flatmate’s advances when all he wants is to give in to them.

I love me some good pining, and this story takes pining to new levels. Seriously. It’s written in a combination of 2nd person and epistolary but even if that isn’t your thing I would highly recommend you give this a try. There’s a forced proximity aspect in that they live together, so Harry can’t get away when the love potion starts affecting his behavior around Draco. It’s not a traditional slow burn but it gave me some slow burn feelings for sure. Again: new levels of pining, holy shit.


Mixed Drinks and Crossed Wires by @korlaena - 16.5k - E

Draco is a handsy drunk. Harry is okay with it, really. They’re friends, so it doesn’t mean anything.

A post-war fic in which the Gryffindors and the Slytherins have all become friends and go out together regularly…and Draco gets drunk and flirts with Harry…and Harry assumes it doesn’t mean anything. I don’t think it’s a spoiler for me to tell you that this is a getting together story. It also has side Ginny/Pansy and really awesome communication.


Orbit by @henrymercury - 52.5k - E

“The classical problem of celestial mechanics, perhaps of all Newtonian mechanics, involves the motion of one body about another under the influence of their mutual gravitation.”

*

They don’t like each other. They’re not friends. There’s not even a ceasefire of any sort because they’re fighting as much as ever—but there’s definitely something different about it. An added layer of self-awareness they don’t dare identify, but which colours every Scared, Potter? and Do your worst; each You wouldn’t dare and Then prove it.

This is a long one, but it’s so good. It’s got side Luna/Pansy as well as a ton of other really well written side characters. It’s an eighth year story in which McGonagall puts a spell on Hogwarts that prevents anyone from doing anything (sex, fighting, etc.) with someone else without the other person’s consent. Unsurprisingly, the students have things to say about that, and this story handles all of that really well. It also features Harry and Draco being stuck in detention together every week after they get into a brawl during Herbology, and then slowly getting to know each other and acknowledging their feelings. This one ticks a lot of your boxes and I’d really recommend checking it out!


Proper by @violetclarity - 8.7k - E

Draco sighs. “What kind of absolute twit has the chance to have sex with the Chosen One and can’t go through with it?“

In which Draco studies with Gryffindors, learns a new spell, and navigates the difficulty of being in a not-so-casual secret relationship with his childhood nemesis.

Eighth year fic with a side of secret dating - Harry and Draco navigating their new (sexual) relationship while also keeping their relationship under wraps, and how that affects them both. No rare pairs, but some awesome Pansy and Draco friendship moments.


Say The Words (Say Them Out Loud) by @goldentruth813 - 18.5k - E

When Draco gets assigned as the Auror to guard Harry Potter day and night, he is sure nothing good will come of it. But as the days go on Draco is forced to evaluate himself and things he thought to be true about Potter and relationships. Sometimes it’s not love at first sight. Sometimes, first, it’s miscommunication and misunderstanding. A story in which Harry and Draco learn to accept the things they want from themselves and from each other.

You say you like forced proximity? Such as, for example, Draco having to live in Harry’s house while he works as his bodyguard? As they dance around the possibility of being mutually interested and also learn to trust each other? Another one that, while not a typical slow burn, has some of that feeling for me because of the pining. I also love the Auror Draco with non-Auror Harry dynamic.


This was fun to put together, I hope you enjoy these recs nonnie! Please feel free to come scream w me about them if you read them. Also remember to leave the authors a kudos or a comment if you feel so inclined :)

On the Street

Since @meldy-arts was talking about Ezra’s childhood on Lothal, have another 2nd person ficlet….


There’s no room for friendships on the street, at least not in the first three years.  People like Furpill might teach you bits and pieces of pickpocketing, but that was only because he used you for his own living.   An odd person or two left clothes for you, or looked the other way when you took unwanted knickknacks, but that wasn’t really helping.  Nah, that’s just trying to feel better about themselves.  Only one or two people ever tried to help you, in your five years on the street, and they tended to suffer or be shamed for it.

Moreena wasn’t quite like that.  She treated you like an equal, joked and teased like you weren’t any different to her.  It was nice, though she could never help more than friendly words and a few credits.  You always had to wonder, though - was it you she enjoyed spending time with, or the not-quite-you that you’d built up over the years - a preposterously confident twelve year old (but with an older mind) who never had to worry about where the next meal came from, who could take any number of bucketheads with a grin.

She’d never seen you frantically pressing old, off-colour bacta patches onto the wounds that came from adventures like that, nor the scars from where you’d fought loth-cats for your next meal.  She probably never realised you ate raw roadkill, at times, or that an Imp’ once broke all your fingers as a joke.

She never, ever saw the slave-scar on your back.  You made certain she never found the bidding number that sold you off into the only thing more terrifying than the streets….

Business Comes First- Chapter 1

A Peaky Blinders fanfiction set around the end of season 3.

The main character, Alice, has her own backstory etc, but it is written in 2nd person.  I hope you like Alice, I’ve spent a long time imagining everything about her and I love her so much! 

Chapter 1- A Woman Who Drinks // Chapter 2 - Tea for my Lady // Chapter 3- Ricocheting Bullets // Chapter 4- Demons // Chapter 5 - A Country House // Chapter 6 - Numbing the Pain

Summary: Alice is a smart and savvy business woman in a male dominated world.  She uses her wit and power to get what she wants but she has burdens from her past that could hinder a business transaction in Small Heath.

Although only Tommy features in this chapter, as it progresses I’m hoping that the whole gang will play a part in the story.  I would imagine that there will be many chapters of this story, do let me know if you wish to be tagged. 

As always let me know what you think, all feedback is welcome, any replies will come from @bookish-fox​ as this is a side account.  xxx

Warnings: language, suggestions of previous trauma.

Chapter 1 - A Woman who Drinks

Slamming the door to the streets outside, you ascended the stairs of your new home and flopped onto the bed.  Your heart sunk… this is it.  You’re here, Birmingham. Your new home, a two up, two down house with peeling wallpaper and a damp spot in the corner was far from your family’s country estate back home in Devon.  Already, you missed the rolling fields, the clean air and most of all the horses.  Sitting up, you inhaled deeply.  Think of the business, Alice, you think to yourself.  You stand and begin unpacking the boxes.

Your evening was passed sifting through crates of possessions and folding clothes into drawers.  You were heartbroken when you opened a box to find your treasured tea set shattered into shards of floral china.  A tear threatened to spill onto your cheek as you poured the remnants into the bin. You inhaled sharply and made your way across to the window, and moved the thin lace curtain aside with one finger, gazing onto the dark street outside.  

It was empty, but the bustle of music and laughter could be heard from somewhere in the distance.  Everything was different, in comparison to home, but this was your home now, and you HAD to make it work.  The business depended on you to play your role. 

Your family were known across the country for breeding and training race horses. Goodfellows Ltd.  Yourself and your siblings had taken on the business when your father died during the war, and since then, your determined nature had taken the company to a national level, turning yourselves from rural farmers to one of the most desirable and wealthy families in the industry.  You and your twin brother, Henry, scouted the country for potential buyers and partners whilst your sister, Lou, ran the business from home.  You were a set of determined siblings, confident on and off the figurative and metaphorical battlefield and Birmingham was to be your latest victory. 

It took you several days to sort your house out.  You couldn’t bear the sight of the peeling wallpaper so you had it stripped away and replaced.  A new tea set had been purchased, and, although it wasn’t as nice as your old one, it would do.  Your house was starting to feel like a home- something which you always found important on jobs like this- you never knew how long you would need to stay before a deal was settled. 

Every night you looked out onto the street from your window, peaking out from behind the curtain, and it was times like this you felt lonely.  You rarely called Henry as he was always ‘busy’ and Lou always seemed too stressed and frantic with her ever growing brood of children to stay on the phone for long.  When you felt this way, you would simply go upstairs and try to sleep, but regularly your slumber was interrupted with dreams of the past and times that you had tried so hard to suppress. 

Tonight was different.  You were craving company and you were yet to start your business.  Tonight was as good of a night as any.  Quickly you get yourself ready, slipping on a cream dress, matching shoes and hat and swiping red lipstick across your lips.  You smiled at yourself in the mirror, excited to see what the night would bring.  Before leaving, you hastily pulled a wedge of paperwork out of your back, eyes glancing over the details.  Shelby Company Ltd. stood out at the top of the page.  Feeling around at the bottom of your bag you pulled out the photo Lou had given you with the paperwork.  It was battered and ripped but you could make out the three faces of the men that stood around a racing stallion.  Those faces were burnt into your memory, just in case an opportunity arose.  You walked into the kitchen and placed the paperwork and photograph in a drawer- you could only imagine the embarrassment if you met one of those men tonight and they found those in your bag.  

At the door to your house, you checked yourself in the mirror and quickly place a handgun in your bag before opening the door, stepping out onto the street and shutting it carefully behind you.  You followed the sound of the music and laughter, and upon turning a corner you saw the pub.  The Garrison.  It was fate, you chuckled to yourself as you realised just how easy this business deal may be. 

The Garrison was loud.  Very loud.  People danced frantically almost in a stupor as you made your way to the bar.  More than once you had to dodge a flailing arm or outstretched leg so that you weren’t hit or didn’t trip over.  Perching on a stool, you put your bag onto the surface with an audible thump, catching the barman’s attention.  

Your confidence was always something you had taken pride in.  Being a woman in your industry was no easy feat and often you felt the need to prove yourself.  You were independent and you liked it. 

“What can I get you, miss?” The barman asked, his thick Birmingham accent making the words seem longer and more drawn out than they actually were.

“Whisky.” you reply. You watched as he poured your drink. “Thank you.”  He placed the drink down next to your bag and went to another customer.  You surveyed your surroundings, the frantic dancing hadn’t ceased one bit and the noise was almost deafening, but the atmosphere of the pub was friendly, welcoming and warm.  A pub like this was the one thing Devon didn’t have.  

In the corner of your eye, you saw a small hatch open: a private room.  A man appeared at it, cigarette hung lazily from his lips and the blades in his cap glinting softly in the light.  His eyes swept the room before meeting with yours, after brief eye contact, you avert your gaze to focus on your drink.  The man in the hatch was one of the men in the photo, Thomas Shelby.  Upon seeing him, the barman hurriedly rushed over with two more bottles of whisky.  Thomas tipped his hat to the man and the hatch doors were closed. 

You bought another drink and sipped at it slowly, allowing the gentle heat of the alcohol to slip down your throat and warm you from the inside.  Instinctively you close your eyes, embracing the warm. 

“Hmm,” you heard a cough next to you.  You open your eyes.  He sat next to you, looking deep into your soul with azure irises.  His pupils dilated, taking you in.  You break the eye contact and place your glass on the surface.  Business was beginning.

“May I help you?” You ask sweetly, smiling innocently at Birmingham’s most notorious gangster.

He leaned in to whisper in your ear. “Are you alone? How much?” he asks, his breath hot against your skin.  You backed away, your indignation visibly apparent in the frown on your face.

“Excuse me, but I am no whore.” You state.

“Shit, um…” he took a step backwards, “its just…”

“What? I’m here alone with no man? Apparently that immediately makes me a whore? I’m a woman having a drink at a bar, nothing more.” You raised your voice, well aware that people were looking your way.   

His stare hardened as he attempted to regain some composure.  The eyes of the people in the room were on him.  He took a cigarette out of his pocket at lit it with a match.  He was relishing the attention on him, an opportunity to show that he was the king of Birmingham.  He gave a simple look to the musicians in the corner of the room and suddenly they burst into a popular tune causing the dancing to reignite. This was his pub and he was in charge. 

Tommy Shelby was not used to being spoken to in this manner, especially by a woman he didn’t know.  He could see in the way she composed herself that she was not from around here, perhaps this was why she was so confident.

“Coming somewhere like this alone can bring a lot of unwanted attention.” He stated, removing the cigarette from his plump lips with his finger tips, the smoke billowed around his face like a veil.   “Perhaps you’re not used to this kind of society, or perhaps you want some attention.  Which is it?”

“I’m just a woman who wants a drink.”  You reply, picking up your glass and taking a swig.  You could feel him tense next to you.  You weren’t intentionally trying to irritate him, but you were having a good time doing so. 

“Do you know who I am?” He asked, staring you down.  Looking straight into his eyes you nodded. 

“Hmmm.” He took another drag from the cig, “And do you know where you are?”  

“I’m just a woman who wants a drink.” You repeated.  You watched his jaw clench and his stare harden.  Deciding you’ve baited him enough, you pick up your drink and down the last of it.  

“And now, Mr Shelby, I am leaving.”  You smile at him, knowing full well that you had probably outstayed your welcome, you needed this business venture to succeed after all.  You collected your bag and got up to leave.  Dodging the dancers you exited the pub, trying to ignore the buzz that was pumping through your veins.  The interaction had got you so worked up, the adrenaline was rushing through you.  The thrill of the chase of a good deal is what pushed you onwards.  Looking back to Tommy Shelby, standing gawping at the bar, you smiled as you shut the door to The Garrison behind you and began trudging up the road to your house. 

“Hey!” You hear shout in your direction, followed by the thuds of footsteps on the tarmac “Wait!”  You turn and see Tommy striding up to you.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that,” he begins, rubbing his hand over his chin. 

“You can’t walk home alone, clearly you’ve drank far too much.”  He begins walking leaving you stood still in the middle of the road.  You scoff as you follow him, he had some nerve to talk to you like he had in The Garrison, and then to come outside and accuse you of being unable to handle your drink?  You were about to voice your disdain for his attitude when you trip on a loose pebble.  You tumbled to the floor, practically flinging your bag to the other side of the street as you fell.

“Shit.” you mutter, your hands were bloody, with grit and rocks protruding from the wounds.  Tommy turned and offered you a hand up.  Looking him square in the eyes, you clenched your jaw and stood up alone.  His eyes widen, evidently annoyed at your refusal of his aid.  He turns and walks towards your bag which had opened upon impact with the floor. 

“No! Leave that!” you cry, alarm rising within you.  The gun! Tommy raises his hands in a mock surrender as you rush to pick up the bag.  He could not know about the gun.  Shit, he was right, maybe you had drank too much.  Tommy held out his arm for you to hold onto as you walked, and you took it, ensuring to give him an icy glare as you grabbed his bicep. 

The two of you walked in silence.  Tommy felt conflicted: this woman fascinated him.  Who is she? And how did she know who he was? As you walked he stole a glance at your face, taking in your red lips and dark eyes.  He had never seen someone quite like you and he found that oddly unnerving.  Something in your eyes was omniscient and your confident attitude was admirable.  Stealing another glance he looked at you again, and your eyes momentarily met.  

Every now and again you glanced up at his face, his protruding cheekbones casting great shadows across his cheeks.  His face was perfectly chiselled and unmoving, like a marble statue created in the times of Ancient Greece.  You marvelled at the vivid blue of his eyes.  Astonishing.  Alice. STOP.  You needed to focus, business had to come first, your family and reputation was depending on it.  It was rare that you let attraction take hold over you, you were usually so focussed with the job at hand, but, you had to admit it, Tommy was exquisite.  It must be the alcohol that is causing you to lose focus. 

Arm wrapped around his, you turned the corner leading to your front door.  Without saying a word you disconnected yourself from him, and took your key out of your bag.  In your drunkenness you fumbled at the lock, silently cursing your ineptitude.  

“Here,” he takes the keys from your hands and opens the door, pushing it open.  

“Thanks,” You reply, standing in the doorway, turning to meet him.  

“Look, I’m sorry about what I said earlier,” He starts, taking a cigarette out of his pocket and rolling it between his fingers “it was unfair of me to make presumptions, I barely know you.”  He lights the cigarette, the flame illuminating his face in the darkness of the street.  

“Mmm,” you nod.  It was late and the effects of the alcohol were just slipping out of your grasp.  Your upbringing dictated that you should offer him a cup of tea, but it was too late at night for niceties. Business must come first, you needed to arrange an official meeting to start your negotiations.  Then there would be time for niceties. 

“I would like to make it up to you…” He cooly said, his eyes tracing up and down your body slowly.   His eyes stopped at yours, and you held his gaze.  

His eyes were so blue, it was like gazing into a swimming pool and his long eyelashes were creating ripples on the surface with their shadows in the dull light of the end of his cigarette.  He was a striking looking man with strong and harsh features but kind eyes, juxtaposing his hard exterior and stance in your doorframe.  He may be the king of Birmingham, but the Goodfellows were soon going to be the rulers of the country. 

“Okay, Mr Shelby.  I’ll give your secretary a call shortly.”  You interrupt him. You close the door in his face, spinning around so that your back was pressing against the cold wood.  Tommy exuded danger, you could sense it in the very air that he stood in- it was unnerving but also thrilling.  Exhaling sharply you stand up straight and walk into the kitchen and sit down.  

Tommy was right where you needed him; he felt indebted to you- this deal should be an easy win.  You shouldn’t have to stay here long, soon you’ll be back at home in Devon.  You stand and walk over to the kitchen drawer, carefully in order not to crease anything, you pull out the photo and the paperwork.  Your eyes pass over the brothers in the photo, good genes, you chuckle to yourself.  Placing the photo to one side, you sift through the paper to find the phone number of Tommy’s secretary. 

The door shut in his face.  Tommy’s eyes widened as he realised what had just happened.  He remained stood outside the door, his nose practically centimetres away from the chipped paintwork.  His mind worked on overdrive attempting to process the events that had just occurred.  Had he just been turned down?

Fuck sake.  He didn’t even ask for her name.  He turned and began to stride away from the house, silently cursing his stupidity.  That girl’s mouth might get her in trouble, but was evident that she was intelligent, and that was something that he liked in a person.  She didn’t seem scared of him, despite somehow knowing who he was.  That girl had potential and the Shelby Company Ltd. had vacancies. 

He carried on striding away, but then he suddenly stopped.  How the fuck did she know he had a secretary? 

drawings (2); bully || Batboys

Meant to be a one-shot, then again, why not make it a sequel or a part 2?

The request was made on Wattpad (ofc, I need to get outta that site XD jk no I don’t)

Warning(s); bullying, flashbacks of abuse.

Note; this can be read as a sequel (or a part 2, your pick) of drawings || Batmom, will be written in the daughter’s (2nd person) point of view and Batmom will be in 3rd person! Also, mentions of the batgirls!

This is so confusing…I know. I’m so sorry if my writings always confuse you.

;;

In your time living in the manor, you learned how it felt like to have a proper family, people who loved you, who treated you the way you should be treated. Completely different from your past house.

Mrs. and Mr. Wayne were different, your mother and father were very different. They were the one who helped you through everything, catching up on what you missed on being a normal, happy kid. Your brothers also helped you learning things they were good at.

Dick taught you to do some tricks with your body, moving and bending your limbs in ways that you thought were not possible. Also, who would’ve thought that that bubbly ball that mostly made of elastic muscles knew a little bit of ballet? Since you were still young, it wasn’t that hard.

Jason, the others thought he was going to introduce some of his gun collections to you, he didn’t. He brought you to the library to read, he would buy you some books too. Harmless books. When you told him you were interested in poetry, his eyes lit up and he started to show you his collections and you would ask if there was something you didn’t understand.

Tim, everybody knew that his teaching wouldn’t go too far from technologies. He taught you how to use the computer first, then things about the internet, then jumped a huge leap to the basic of hacking. Thank god you were a quick learner. He also would occasionally help you with math.

And Damian. Oh, Damian freaking Wayne. Did he goes all Al-Ghul on you. He taught you how to use a katana for heaven’s sake, how to headlock somebody, where to hit someone to make them fall unconscious. If you failed he would scold you, not too harsh though, he already heard your past.

Then there were Cassandra and Stephanie, they sometimes just couldn’t get along, they were a completely two different person. For an example, one time, Steph wanted you to come with her to spend a quality time watching her favorite shoe but then Cassandra spotted you and asked if you wanted to help her with her training, you wanted to do both. When you took your time to think about it, they would argue.

Barbara then came to the rescue, separating both girls and came with her suggestion which was watching two episodes of Steph’s show and helped Cass with her training for one and a half hour. Barbara would tell you to make a quick decision for your own sake instead of staying silent, she was like a second mother really. You loved them all.

You trusted them yet you couldn’t bring yourself to tell them that the other students at the school were treating you like you were a punching bag.

When your mother told you that she allowed you to finally go to school you couldn’t stop bouncing. Your former parents never allowed you to go to school, let alone study, you always hid your books and papers under the bed. One time when they found out you were learning to count they yelled at you.

Yes, you still loved and excited at the thought school but the way others treated you were too much to bear, it reminded you of your constant abuse at your old house. You still remembered that your mother wanted you to tell her everything about your problems, you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

You didn’t want to burden them. To annoy them with your constant problem, so you stayed silent.

And this morning you tried to avoid as much problem as possible.

You failed.

You were walking to your locker to get the poetry book Jason just gave you the other night, as you reached for the lock your wrist was harshly grabbed, without turning around you knew who they were. Yes, they. There was more than one kid that messed with you. They were your seniors. You hated them, they reminded you of those people you used to call your parents.

“Mute kid.” The voice you wanted to hear the least echoed in your ear.

They didn’t say anything else but started beating you up as they ranted about their bad day, about that one teacher that always told them to do their homework, how they wanted to plot a revenge against that old man. They didn’t stop, feet kicked your ribs, your wrists if not broken, crooked.

Even though Damian did teach you the basic to fight, you still couldn’t bring yourself to fight back. You didn’t want to misbehave.

“Aren’t you going to scream for help?” One of them asked, harshly putting his dirty, shoe-clad feet on your cheek, “oh wait, I forgot! You can’t talk!”

His words emitted a booming laughter from the group.

Your body was already numb, you couldn’t move a muscle even if you did you were sure you wouldn’t dare to move anyway, they would beat you up again.

The only thing you did was whimpering in pain, tears pricking in your eyes, thus only egging them on until you fell silent.

“I think we went too far.” A girl whispered to the others, you heard their distinct conversation before finally blacking out.

**

At the manor, the brothers received a call from your school. Tim was the one who picked up the phone since he was the closest. His eyes widening in pure horror.

“What happened, Drake?” Damian was the first to ask as soon as Tim roughly placed the phone back with a loud clack.

“Bad. Hospital, now!” Tim didn’t waste any time, grabbing his key and slung his bag before rushing out to get to his bike, the other boys following. They didn’t use the car because it took too long to their liking, especially in this kind of emergency.

When Tim acts before thinking then something bad must’ve happened, they knew, Tim tends to plan everything before acts it out.

The hospital hall was crowded as soon as they got in, those boys were magnets for males and females, nobody could resist their attractiveness. A lot of girls were squealing, some trying to approach them only to get ignored as they rushed straight to the room you were in.

Did the nurses gawk at them too? Yes.

Did they care? No.

“Our sister?” The boys asked simultaneously.

One of the nurses opened the curtain, showing your badly bandaged body lying limp on the bed. You were almost covered in bandages. They could see your bruised cheek, ripped lips and a black eye, an infusion pump was attached to your wrist.

They scamper over to your bed, a mixture of worry and guilt adoring their faces as they waited for you to wake up.

“Who could’ve done this?” The eldest son asked nobody in particular as he brushed your messy hair back carefully with his fingers.

“Found them.” Said Tim not too long after, he already brought his laptop out. He must’ve thought about looking it up as soon as he saw you.

They peered over Tim’s shoulders as Tim showed them various of clips he got from hacking through the school’s security. All of them were about the same thing, you getting beaten up, at first they didn’t touch you then it escalated to a relentless beating.

Jason’s fists clenched, “oh fuck no, they didn’t just treat my sis like a damn punching bag.” He hissed through gritted teeth, anger bubbling up within him.

“We have to confront them,” Damian suggested.

“I say we talk to their parents,” Dick added.

“To the principal.” Tim continued.

“Sorry softies, I have to go with the Demon’s plan.” Jason crossed his arms, already sticking up with the idea of beating the shit out of those knuckleheads.

“Tell mom.” As soon as the words fell from Dick’s lips they immediately fumbled with their phones, Tim’s call was the one that your mother picked up first before Tim put it on speaker.

Tim? What’s wrong?” Your mother automatically questioned.

“Something really bad happened at school,” Jason answered for them.

“Is your sister okay!?” Her voice raised an octave, a distant ruffling was heard and a dull thud.

“She’s unconscious.” Damian’s green eyes glanced at you for a moment, “what should we do?”

She didn’t answer though, more ruffling, thumping before a loud bang following after then a short shuffling.

The boys quirked their eyebrows as they looked at each other with the same questioning expression.

A familiar grunt was heard, what did you boys say? She pushed me to the floor then went out without telling me.” Bruce’s voice replaced her.

“What were you doing?” Dick questioned.

What did you boys say?” Bruce avoided the question.

The boys explained to him, short and straight to the point yet didn’t leave any small details. They heard Bruce’s frustrated and angered groan before ending the call without saying anything else.

Just before they could complain, your soft noise in pain gained their attention back. Your eyes slowly flutter open, your right eye only could open slightly, it was hurting you.

You only saw their blurry figures but you could tell that they were worried, so worried. You tried your best to fist your hand, bringing it up to your chest before making circular motions over your chest.

Sorry.”

“What for?” Dick whispered his question to you.

You couldn’t bring yourself to answer, not even with the sign language. You were silent again, eyes staring at the ceiling. You were so tired.

Your brothers didn’t need an answer, they knew what you meant and they told you not to be sorry about it, they understood.

“We told mother,” Damian informed you causing you to sharply turn your head to the side, eyes wide as you thought for the worst. Your mother wouldn’t just sit around doing nothing, you know, everybody in the manor knew.

She would stomp her way to the school, getting the names of the kids that beat you up within minutes, getting them out of their classes and went to each of their houses, giving their parents a promise instead of a thread. A promise that would make their families suffer for years.

You shuddered at the thought, her wrath was the lasting you wanted.

“Mother won’t be mad at you,” Damian assured you as he sat on a chair.

“No, she probably wants you to be more open though,” Tim spoke up, stuffing his laptop back into his bag.

Your hand shifted as you gathered enough energy to talk.

What about you guys?”

“We’ll beat the crap out of them and follow you everywhere.” Jason nonchalantly answered, his arms were still crossed over his chest while his back leaned against the wall.

You frowned, giving him the ‘are you serious’ look.

“Nope, we’ll just put hidden cameras in your stuff.”

Anybody would’ve thought Dick was joking. He didn’t.

You were sure as hell would check everything in your room if they were camera free as soon as you got out of the hospital.

@arufinos​ asked for 👌 for an key item left from them after losing for nol and im a dramatic bitch who cant let this slide normally and writing happened (cw for morbidity, 269 words)

You criss-cross your steps as you pass through the wastes. Balance is a difficult thing. Buffeted by the gales and the moral pressure of the dead, your body bends and strains. Gaze down. There’s nothing up but the Vigil ceiling– until there’s a vengeance-mad dragon up. Then you’ll be nothing.

You look at those who are nothing now. Half buried and half-bodied in the stone, slain knights and dravanians wait for you. They knew you’d come for their carrion and strip them of their worth. Rosaries of any kind made trophies for the war commission. For devout lovers, a solace. And as for you, beads buy your bread.

But not that one. That rosary can’t be touched. Dragoons are off-limits, damn selfish things. The Holy See always claimed them. Probably fetched a price only the Church could collect.

Its not like you’re selfish. You only want the necklace. They want the body. Call him a saint and even his teeth’ll be fit for a ring. Relics sell.

The string of crystal beads circled the man’s open hand. Miraculously uncracked, the expensive rosary dangled its unbloodied Spear over the ground. It reflects the cold blue of his mail and the red that mars it.

But under the cracked visor shows a lowborn visage. The jaw lays at an awkward angle, all blood and bone. About those teeth…

That rosary must have been a gift. People payed a fortune for protection. But by the look in the knight’s ever-open eyes, naught could have helped him.

You tighten your grip on your collection and move on. The beads sing in the wind.

anonymous asked:

hello, saw your answer a few months ago (about brucedick) & was wondering if you had any recommendations for brucejay actually, since i'm quite fond of them...i'm also especially partial to bottom!bruce, so anything along that line (whether brucedick or brucejay or whatever) would be nice as well! thanks for all your contributions to fandom

god sorry i took so long with this, i had to dig deeeeep into the vaults. brucedick here, but no bottom!bruce if i remembered correctly – x

bottom!Bruce should be more of a thing after jay’s death because the boy’s grown big and tall with so much rage inside him… but sadly isn’t. i suggest fics that pair him up with either Clark, or villains. i myself am a casual sladexbruce + thomasxbruce shipper, but a rec would be overkill since there’s so little material out there. *sad trombone sounds*

below are mostly of angsty resurrected!jay, no playful! or sexy!Jay because for me that’s too much like Dick and i need to keep my headcanons straight. most are smut under 5k, and READ THE FIC WARNINGS.

  • Hate to Love by cadkitten, SakuraAme - an almost bottom!Bruce fic that deals with a self-flagellating Bruce and a Jason torn between rage and desire. it’s bleak and sad and everyone’s miserable, which is *my* kind of thing!
  • Not Entirely Untrue by Runespoor - if there’s ever a single fic that would make me a full-time Brucejay shipper, this would be it. a lingering outdoor!smut featuring Matches!Bruce from Jay’s POV that’s so heartbreakingly in character i felt like punching something.
  • There You Go Again by MissNaya - you can’t spell Brucejay without A-B-O! actually you can, but anyway. i love how aggressive and vicious Bruce is here, and how his conscience is guilt-tripping him the entire time. sounds like a regular Bruce day!
  • something better than before by ohmcgee - resurrection!angst that’s short but sharp LIKE A KRIS IN THE HEART. the dialogue just slays me. written in 2nd person so watch out for that if that’s like your kryptonite or w/e. 
  • Where hunger finds us by Teland - don’t you just sometimes ache for bad, bad, bad, predatory, fucked-up Bruce that longs for his robin? no? well this fic has it in spades anyways, and he’s perfect in all his quiet wrongness. 
  • Tomorrow For Today by Runespoor - angsty Brucejay vampire!fic that’s soooo gooooood from start to finish *excited flailing* Bruce’s is just exquisite here in his pained restraint, this fic just haunts me as it captured him so well. 

BONUS ROUND: jay-POV brujaydick

  • Temptation by October_rust - it’s always a rare treat for me to find a brujaydick with a Dick that’s neither a clingy mess nor a vicious sex kitten; Dick and Jay are very in character, AND it’s got bottom!Bruce to boot. 12/10 would recommend.
  • and i run to the center of things by likewinning - an easygoing romp that’s part of an equally delightful villain!AU. Dick is a little ditzy here, but the fic’s honestly good fun and everyone’s happy and sated from start to finish because LET JASON BE HAPPY 2k18!!!!

HTH!

I have just realized I have never posted it here. My first ever english fic/piece xD I only posted it on AO3 eons ago, much before I made this blog. Might as well leave it here.

Was originally written to train my english writing and as a self-comfort piece (bc I have panic syndrome) using one of my bnha oc’s (and then turned into a reader piece). I actually had a long fic planned with plot and stuff and actually did nothing less than 7 chapters for this - which are all in portuguese. I have it in mind to maybe make english versions of it at some point, but I’m not fully confident if there’s interest, so let me know. Either way enjoy the wee piece as it works well as a stand alone one.

It is written on a 3rd person narrative, as I don’t do 2nd person. Fem!Reader. Look at tags for warnings.

Title: Miles Away

Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Reader
Characters: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead
Additional Tags: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Mental Health Issues, Like panic syndrome, Panic Attacks, You Have Been Warned, just an excuse for more aizawa really, Hurt/Comfort, Comfort, Female pronouns, Established Relationship
Summary: Some nights can be pretty bad, especially if you are alone. But sometimes you can be helped, even if from a distance.

Read on AO3 or down below.

Keep reading

Flying Lessons- Poe Dameron x Reader

a/n: i’m sure this has been done before but i wrote this a while ago and idk, i thought it was cute :)) also, it’s written in 2nd person for some reason. my writing style is super inconsistent.

requested by: n/a



Poe pulled you down into his lap rather suddenly but gently all the same and you let out a quiet gasp, growing flustered and embarrassed. His hands came to wrap around your waist to both steady and position you before gliding up to your wrists, positioning your hands onto the controls. You hesitantly tightened your fists around them and he let out a content, approving hum.

Poe’s hands closed around yours, sending little shivers down your arms to your fluttering heart, and he was suddenly reminded of being a small child sitting on his mother’s lap in her shiny A-wing, feeling so light and effortless and perfect as they flew, the ship humming and responding to every command in the form of a slight movement of his hand.

“Isn’t it amazing?” he murmured, lips so close to your ear, and you could tell there was more to what he said. Poe had a dreamy look in his eye, so far-away and distant, and the softest smile rested on his lips. “Nothing else even comes close.”

Keep reading

untrustworthy || zach dempsey

prompt: An imagine where you’re Zach Dempseys girlfriend and you don’t know whether to trust him or not after the tapes get out.

warnings: none

a/n: im trying something new so this is gonna written differently than my usual 2nd person pov


Y/N didn’t know what to feel, she was experiencing too many different emotions at the moment to comprehend even one. She was sitting in her room listening to an audio that was sent to her from a friend, the audio turning out to be the tapes Hannah left behind before her unfortunate death. After sitting through the tapes, Y/N wanted to cry. She wanted to cry because of Hannah’s death, her friends being reasons why and most importantly why her boyfriend never told her about the tapes.

Zach never intended in Y/N finding out he was in the tapes. In fact, he wanted to be the one to tell her, he just never found the right time. To tell someone you were one of the reasons why someone killed themselves isn’t a good conversation topic. So Zach never told Y/N and he felt his heart break when he found out the tapes were released. Zach as well didn’t know how to feel. He was filled with confusion, sadness and anger. God, he hated himself so much right now.

Y/N walked through the hallways of her school and all she could think about was Zach and the tapes. If Zach hadn’t told her about the tapes, who knows what else he could be hiding. These thoughts led Y/N to feel doubtful about Zach, and god it hurt her so much. She loved Zach, and for this to happen caused a rift that formed in their relationship. Y/N was cut out of her thoughts by someone calling her name, she could recognize that voice anywhere. She turned around to face Zach, giving him a small smile.

Zach could tell Y/N’s smile wasn’t her usual genuine and loving smile and he felt his heart pang. But Zach decided to go along with it, “Hey darling, could we talk after school?” Zach asked, hoping Y/N would say yes. Y/N stood there for a moment, thinking before answering, should she talk with Zach? Will he tell her everything? So with a sigh Y/N answered, “Yes, we can talk at Rosie’s Diner.“ And with that Y/N walked off and went on with her day.

Zach sat in a booth at Rosie’s Diner, drinking a milkshake and waiting for Y/N to arrive. ‘God what if she doesn’t show up?’ Zach wondered, stirring his beverage with a spoon. Zach had waited for about 10 minutes and was about to leave before he looked up and saw Y/N walking towards him. 'It’s now or never.’ Zach thought to himself as Y/N sat across from him, rather than next to him like she usually would.

"I’m sorry for not telling you. It was stupid not to tell you and I shouldn’t have kept it a secret. Please don’t be mad at me.” Zach blurted out to Y/N. She let out a scoff and before answering. “Zach you can’t just keep something like that to yourself. I’m mad at you for not telling me, I had to find out through a text message and after what I heard, I don’t know if I could trust you.” Y/N answers honestly as she feels her heartbeat starts to race.

“I swear Y/N, no more secrets please, please don’t leave me.” Zach pleaded as tears started forming in his eyes. Zach hated how he made Y/N feel and how it ended with her wondering if she should trust him or not. Zach felt like an asshole but he didn’t want to lose Y/N. She made Zach feel as if none of the events happened and he could lose himself with her. But Y/N sat in thought, staring at Zach with a blank face. She loved Zach, she really did and she didn’t want to lose him as well. But Y/N didn’t know what to do or say.

With a small sigh Y/N finally answered after a period of silence. “I love you Zach, I really do. I’m willing to overlook what happened and please, no more secrets. I trust you and I hope you trust me.” Zach beamed with relief and joy. “I do trust you Y/N, I’m sorry and thank you. I love you.” Zach answered, putting his hand over Y/N’s. Y/N ordered a milkshake as well and the two talked while the milkshake arrived. Y/N held and the glass in her hand and the both of clinked their drinks. “To us.” Y/N spoke, Zach giving her a grin. “To us.”


i wrote in a different pov and i hope you liked this !! feedback is appreciated and i kinda rushed the ending woops

Billions Of Tiny Atoms.

Summary- When the Winchesters and their half sister find themselves in trouble, a certain angel comes to help shocking them all.

Warnings-

A/N- I’m not 100% happy with the ending, but I’m still hella proud of this! It’s also written in 3rd person. It’s a change from 2nd person but I kinda like it?


He clenched his teeth. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed his jaw. “You have two choices,” he seethed through his teeth, “you can leave on your feet or on a gurney…” Nobody expected this to happen his return took everybody by surprise. He was dead, they saw him die. Yet here he was, protecting their little sister. 

They didn’t understand how the hunt had gone sideways, they did this everyday… I guess they just underestimated the power of an angel. They had been told it was a rouge one, weak and harmless. Whoever told them that was lying through their teeth. 

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Music Series: Friends by Ed Sheeran (part one)

Thank you for the request, Anon! I love Ed. His music is so good, and even though my tickets are in the nose-bleed section, seeing him in August is going to make me a very happy girl!

Before I present this imagine to you, I would like to say one thing. I am doing this imagine because I like this song and I like Ed, huge fan of his songwriting, and I think it makes for a good Harry imagine. I know this song has been linked to ‘Larry’, which I have no issue with either way, I ship nobody from any fandom, and I don’t know that it was sent to me for that reason, or just the love of the song. My answer to a question I was asked about Larry is HERE if anyone wants to read it, but that is not what my blog is about. My blog is about Harry, and my imagines are about Harry and an OFC (Original Female Character), written in a 2nd person narrative, placing the reader in the story as the OFC, because that’s what I personally like.

This is “Friends” by Ed Sheeran, which can be found on Spotify —>HERE<—, and on my Harry Styles Imagines playlist. 😊

xo

Shelli

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theholylight  asked:

Are there any other Persona 4 (or really Persona 3 or 2 for that matter) characters that have been changed for the overseas/English release/version of the game? I know you did Chie (if I remember correctly) so I was wondering if there were more than just her. If there are too many for all three games, you can do just Persona 4 (or 3 or 2, the choice is yours) :)

“Changes” is a strong word. Language is not a building-blocks “Swap A for B” experience, and often times, something that can be expressed perfectly well in one language just doesn’t work in another, hence creating the need for changes *specifically* so a certain effect can be retained. That said, I still find it interesting to look at any things that don’t quite come across the same in a translated version.

Follow me under the cut to learn about subtle missing nuances, phallic symbolism that was removed, eliminated honorifics, and why Teddie’s localization throughout all games he appeared in was a Greek tragedy in 5 acts. 

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