#also cause he fucking scared the shit outta me when he told me he read the fic

[neoncat666]

Blindspot

Fic Link

any shadows over welde fans *absolute silence*

im really normal over zephrael and i wasnt gonna post this on tumblr but fuck it im now more proud of it cause grizzly said he read it and was thrilled about it

if you dont know shadows over welde i cannot recommend the dnd campaign enough you can watch ep 1 HERE its so fucking good please talk to me about these characters

#shadows over welde #zephrael sow #grizzlyplays #CAUSE ITS HIS CHARACTER!!! AND I WANT YALL TO SEE RAE CAUSE HES SUCH A GOOD CHARACTER AND YOU SHOULD WATCH HIM PLAY!!! #also cause he fucking scared the shit outta me when he told me he read the fic #dm.txt #my fic

[cosmicjoke]

When Misumi was mentioned by Muraji Yashiro had this force laugh as if this was really for him. Nah, Misumi least his worries about this case. Tsunakawa's group is ready to give him money, even more if you say money is not what he's after. Doumeki doesn't owe him an explaination since he was the one who got kicked, literally. Doumeki calmly told him to back off for his safety, and again with Muraji, the least Yashiro could do is respect that and back off, let them fight their own fight. Oh, he's suicidal and want to get into the danger? That's even more selfish. his blood will be on Doumeki and Tsunakawa. You going to justify that with "he's in love with Doumeki" too?

Say whatever you like that he's in love with Doumeki (that much is already established since 4 years ago), the fact remains he kicked him out his life and out of his life Doumeki did, and now he's pulling himself to him again. Got hurt knowing he's got a "woman". WTF bro? Tsundere much?? And yeah, Doumeki did order him that, and said No. And clearly Doumeki backed off on that too—and here he is again pulling Doumeki. He got hurt when Kamiya was station to him. That's what I mean using him whenever he please. ( Oh also dont forget he sucks him off whenever he feels like and pouts if Doumeki says no. ) Yashiro said No. But keeps pulling Doumeki in? Saying he'll do after all?

Sympathy, Empathy, Compassion, throw those words to justify Yashiro's actions towards Doumeki? I get it, they cant be all rosy happy and honest after all these years and after all that happened between them, but at least give him the courtesy not to lie. Dont say anything. Dont say you dont remember. Dont say you dont care . And get scared if he hates you?

Doumeki has been honest, this rough handling is his "honesty". He was hurt of what he did to him. That's not exactly on Yashiro, but you cant deny what Yashiro did, it wasn't just a slap on a hand what he did to Doumeki. Yashiro doesn't need to wonder if Doumeki hates him, he needs to reflect on what he even did to Doumeki, not just the bullets either, cause it seems like that's his only concern.

Okay, Yashiro hater. You've got a bug up your ass about him, you can sulk in it yourself. I hate to break this to you, since you're so hell bent on shitting on him, but Yashiro is the main character of this story, not Doumeki. The focus is on him, and his struggle. You clearly don't understand anything about his character, and why he's done the things he's done. If you can't find sympathy or empathy for him, if you can't understand his motivations simply because they're not spelled out in big block letters for your dumb ass, then what the fuck are you doing reading this story? Get the fuck outta' here with your shit.

And no, Doumeki ISN'T being honest. He's hiding his feelings and sending Yashiro into a tailspin of doubt in the process. You want proof? The scene from chapter 46, I think, when Yashiro asks why Doumeki insisted on taking him home, and Doumeki lies and tells him he's just being polite. Bullshit. Yashiro had what amounted to a panic attack in that moment. You're one of these people that clearly has no grasp of the affects of trauma, or how it can impact a person and their reactions and decisions. That's hilarious, considering that's what this story is all about. Like I said, engendering compassion for people suffering from trauma. Yashiro was never trying to hurt Doumeki. He was trying to help him. He went about it in the wrong way, but his intent was never malicious, you fool, and yet you keep insisting and acting like that's exactly what it was, like he only ever wanted to make Doumeki suffer. What, is your reading comprehension level that low? Can you not read between lines at all? Is Yashiro's obvious guilt and suffering over what he did to Doumeki, his plain statement that it's understandable if Doumeki hates him now, not enough to make you understand that he feels regret over his actions? That he never meant to cause Doumeki pain? Maybe you should stick to scholastic books. They're both accountable here. They've both got good reasons for being less than truthful. You can't seem to extend the same understanding to Yashiro as you do Doumeki, and it's painfully, sickeningly obvious the reason why. You just hate Yashiro. Great. Good for you. I ask again, then, why the fuck are you reading a story ABOUT him?

I swear, you people are unbearably stupid.

Don't send me any more asks. I'm not here to listen to this shit. If you do, I'll just turn my anon asks off.

Fucking unbelievable.

#saezuru tori wa habatakanai #twittering birds never fly

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Ch. 21: Apologies (Father’s Day)

AO3

Prev

Marinette purses her lips as she looks at the neatly wrapped package in her hand. She knew she should still give it to her dad, shouldn’t let her hurt over the Gala stop her from celebrating Father’s Day with him for the first time. She’d already gotten confirmation from her Maman that her present for her Papa had arrived. So that was taken care of. A small part of her, the petty part, wanted to use Kaalki and go back to Paris for Father’s Day. But she also didn’t want to hurt her dad, no matter how much he’d hurt her. She had to be better than that, she is Ladybug after all. Sighing, she drops the present onto her bed. Grabbing the rest of what she needed for a movie night at one of Jason’s safe houses, she rushes out of her room. She knew that her dad’s conversation with Superman in the Batcave wouldn’t last too long, and then he’d be looking for her and Damian to lecture the hell out of them. Unfortunately for him, neither of them planned to be around to listen to it. 

“Got everything Pixie Pop?” Jason asks as she rushes down the last of the steps, barely stopping herself from falling. She quickly balances herself and shoots her brother a small grin. 

“Yup. Let’s go before I can get grounded.” She says, rushing past him and out the door, grinning as she hears his loud cackles behind her. It will get better. She’d talk to her dad eventually, and shove the bad feelings away. But she was going to let herself mope for another day. After all, letting herself feel negative emotions was part of the reason her parents agreed to let her stay in Gotham for the summer. 

---

“What do you mean there’s an entire movie about you and Cat boy?” Jason asks, shoving another cookie in his mouth. Marinette shrugs. 

“I mean we have a movie. It’s not my favorite, it’s kind of ridiculous. None of it is accurate. Except, Adrien did voice Chat Noir for the movie...still not sure why he thought that was a good idea.” She says, thinking back to the original premiere of the movie and all of the drama that came with it. 

“Well shit. He’s not the brightest kid, is he?” Jason asks with a snort. Marinette opens her mouth to argue, then remembers some of Adrien’s….less brilliant moments. Okay, so maybe he’s not perfect.

“Ya know, we were once cast as Ladybug and Chat Noir in a music video.” She says, snorting at the look on Jason’s face. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding. Really? Kid, please tell me you didn’t go through with it.” He says, looking mildly distressed. Marinette just rolls her eyes. 

“No, we didn’t. The concept for the video changed and so no more hero costumes. I was terrified though. Kept losing the mask on purpose ‘cause I was convinced the mask would be what gave it away.” She admits with a small laugh. 

“Ya know, that’s almost as bad as the time that someone at WE thought it’d be a good idea to enter B in a Batman look alike contest. Sent in his photo and everything.” Jason says with a snort. Marinette’s jaw drops.

“Wait, really?” She asks. He nods. 

“Yup. But that’s not the best part.” He says. Her eyebrows furrowed together. What could possibly be better- Oh. No, oh my-

“He lost, didn’t he!” She cheers, laughing at Jason’s huge smile. 

“Of course he did! You didn’t really think Brucie Wayne could ever be THE Batman, did you?” He asks with a smirk. 

“Who entered him?” Marinette asks, kind of assuming that Jason did it with Tim’s computer. 

“No one could ever prove anything, but Lucius Fox couldn’t stop smiling for weeks after it happened.” Jason says. 

“No way, Lucius Fox? Oh my god!” She starts laughing again, the negative feelings from earlier almost completely gone. Disappeared. Times like these, she was beyond relieved that she wasn’t an only child anymore. She doesn’t know how she’d ever function again without her brothers and Cass. 

---

Bruce takes a deep breath before knocking on Marinette’s door. He’d spent some time talking to Clark in an attempt to calm down. He still couldn’t believe his two youngest children had gone to the Watchtower without permission...well, he could believe that Damian went. But not Marinette. And then there was her attitude towards him at the Tower. Her posture was very Damian, but her words and tone were very much Jason. He couldn’t decide if he was glad that they were bonding, or frustrated with the way his sons were corrupting his daughter. Not hearing an answer on the other side of the door, he knocks again. 

“If?” He says. Alfred nods. 

“Marinette, I know you’re angry, but shutting yourself away in your room is not the answer. I’ll give you ten more minutes, but then we need to talk about your behavior today.” He says, nodding to himself. That sounded good. That was right, right?

“I’m certain that wouldn’t work on Miss Marinette even if she was in her room, Master Bruce.” Alfred says, giving him an unimpressed look. Bruce’s eye twitches. 

“Indeed, sir. It seems that Miss Marinette will not be sleeping at the manor tonight.” He says, turning to walk away. 

“And I’m assuming you know where she is?” Bruce says, doubting that Alfred will actually give up her location. He’d definitely been picking the kids’ side the last two weeks or so. It was different, and he wasn’t fond of the change. 

“Of course I do, sir.” Alfred says, raising an eyebrow in a silent challenge. 

“Will you tell me where she is?” He asks, trying hard not to huff when Alfred shakes his head. 

“Of course not, sir.” He says before walking away. Right. So she wasn’t sleeping at the manor, but she was safe. If she wasn’t, Alfred would have told him where she was. He mentally runs through a list of possible places she could be. Dick’s apartment, one of Jason’s safe houses, the Siren’s apartment, Paris- He pales as he realizes that she could definitely be in Paris. Was she really so upset that she would go back to Paris? Would she ever come back if she left? He lets out an uneven breath. He messed up. He messed up and now she was going to go back to Paris and she’d never talk to him again. Unless- maybe she didn’t. Swallowing the guilt that appears at the thought, he pushes her door open. If she had left for Paris, she would’ve taken everything with her. The sight of her clothes and sewing supplies still scattered around the room makes him breathe a sigh of relief. She hadn’t left Not yet. He’s about to walk out when an envelope on her bed catches his eye. Frowning, he walks over and picks it up, ‘Dad’ written on it in neat cursive. Now standing by her bed, he realizes there’s also a neatly wrapped package (Batman wrapping paper) on it. He smiles, then glances back at the envelope. He opens it, smiling at the art on the cardstock. It was clearly Marinette’s art, but he was confused why it was addressed to him. 

‘Dad, I just wanted to let you know that I’m so happy you’re my Dad, and I’m so glad that I got to meet you. Finding out that I was adopted was a little scary, but you’ve made sure I’ve been okay through it all. Happy Father’s Day! Love, Marinette’

Bruce blinks. She was scared. If he had to guess, she was most likely scared that the family wouldn’t accept her. They’d been getting along so well, until the Gala mistake. Until he’d decided for her. Assumed she wouldn’t want to go to the Gala. And now she didn’t even want to stay at the manor tonight, and she was angry enough earlier to throw a chair at him. He pushes a hand through his hair, cursing lowly under his breath. He had to fix this. 

---

A sharp pounding at the door makes Jason leap off the couch. He holds up a finger and gestures for Marinette to hide. No one should be here. No one else knows which of his safe houses he was at today. Grabbing a gun, he walks over, glancing through the peephole. He scoffs. 

“Get the fuck outta here Bruce.” He calls through the door, watching Marinette as she immediately tenses as if she’s gonna run. He shakes his head at her. She didn’t have to run, he sure as hell wouldn’t open the door if she didn’t want him to. 

“Jason, open the door. I need to talk to Marinette.” Bruce calls, Jason snorts. 

“Yeah, not gonna happen B.” He says. 

“I would like to apologize to her.” Bruce says. Jason blinks. That’s new. Did the old man finally figure out that fuck ups warrant apologies? He glances over at Marinette, raising an eyebrow. It was her call. The unsure look on her face almost makes him decide for her. Almost. The kid’d had enough of people deciding shit for her. 

“Let him in.” She says. He opens the door, glaring at the man. 

“Is it okay if he comes in?” She whispers, and Jason nods.

“Up to you kiddo.” He whispers back. She stands taller, pushing her shoulders back before nodding. 

“She’s the one who let you in. Don’t fuck this up.” He warns before stepping aside and letting Bruce walk in.

“Marinette.” He says, nodding at her. Jason groans. Yeah, B was totally gonna fuck this up. 

“Father.” She says, shifting so that her arms are crossed, a neutral expression on her face. God, he really hopes her mimicking Demon Spawn is just a phase. 

“I would like to preface this conversation by letting you know I went into your room.” Bruce says. Marinette just raises an eyebrow. Yeah, Jason wasn’t seeing the connection either. “I apologize for invading your privacy like that, Damian has definitely reminded me several times that your personal rooms are not to be messed with. However, when Alfred let me know you weren’t sleeping at the manor tonight, I was worried that perhaps you had gone back to Paris.” 

“I wouldn’t have gone back without telling you. Well, other than akuma attacks. Do you really think I’d do something like that?” She asks, frowning. 

“I know that I’ve done things I’m not proud of when hurt. Things that I came to regret. And I saw earlier today how hurt you actually are. I didn’t realize-” He pauses. “I also read the card that was on your bed.”

“What! No, that was- that was for Father’s Day.” She says with a sigh. 

“I didn’t open the gift. I originally thought the envelope would have a note from you on where you had gone. Or that you never wanted to see me again. I thought the chances were pretty even.” He says and Jason snorts. 

“Oh, okay. Wait, why would you ever think that? Yes, I was hurt. I still am hurt, if I’m being honest. But I don’t want to cut you out of my life.” She says, shaking her head. 

“Nor do I want you out of ours.” Bruce says. Marinette blinks. “I realize now what it must have looked like, to you. Not informing you about the Gala, taking the rest of the family. It was, admittedly, not my best moment. I made a decision for you when I should’ve asked you what you wanted. You could have even come with us as MDC, but I took that option away from you. I am very sorry, Marinette. I am glad that you’re my daughter, sweetheart.” He says and Jason blinks. Well shit. The old man did have feelings. Too bad no one would ever believe him if he tried to say something about it. He watches as the tension in Marinette’s body drops almost instantly before she runs over and launches herself at Bruce. She wraps her arms around him and Jason can see the way her body shakes. Bruce just stands there, staring down at the top of her head in shock. 

“You wrap your arms around her.” Jason snarks. Bruce blinks before listening, returning Marinette’s hug. Well, they were still dysfunctional as hell, but at least now he’d be able to take Pixie Pop to the manor without feeling like an asshole brother. 

---

Marinette bounces nervously in her seat as she watches her brothers hand her dad presents. She’s shocked when Jason hands over a small gift, knowing that the two’s relationship wasn’t….great. She leans forward in anticipation, watching and waiting to see what he’d picked out. 

“Thank you, Jason. Clark will never let me live this down.” Her dad says, the fondness in his tone not matching the frown on his face. He turns the box around and the room erupts in laughter. Somehow, Jason had found a company that made customizable bobbleheads. The body was probably just a stock body, dressed in civilian clothes with a superman suit peaking through the shirt. And the head, the head was hilarious. It was very obviously crafted to look like their dad, specifically with his ‘Brucie Wayne’ smile. It was awful and amazing at the same time. 

“I think Jaybird wins best gift.” Dick says with a grin. 

“Tt. Unlikely. The new katana that Cass and I gave him is obviously superior.” Damian says, crossing his arms. 

“I don’t know Damian, I still haven’t given him my present.” She points out, grinning at the slight frown on Damian’s face. 

“While I doubt your present could be better than mine, there is no doubt it will be better received than Todd’s.” Damian says. Marinette snorts at the look on Jason’s face. 

“Listen Demon Spawn, there’s this thing called humor. That’s what my gift had. I know you wouldn’t know anything about humor, so let me explain it to you.” He starts, and Marinette jumps in to cut him off before they can start arguing. It was Father’s Day, the least they could do is avoid fighting with each other for a couple more hours. 

“And this one’s from me.” She says, passing him the present wrapped in Batman wrapping paper. She grins as Tim and Dick both laugh, not having seen it before now. 

“I think Mari might win just ‘cause of the paper.” Tim admits, taking a large drink of his iced coffee that Marinette had picked up for him. She’d had to fight an akuma right before they started presents, so she’d stopped and got Tim coffee from the shop that he’d tried when they’d all been in Paris. She watches in anticipation as her dad carefully unwraps the box, opening it and pulling out the black suit jacket. He smiles at her. 

“Did you make this? It’s amazing.” He says, and her brothers nod in agreement (though Damian does so reluctantly). 

“Look at the inside of it.” She says, gesturing for him to unfold it. His eyebrow twitches, but he does as she says. She watches his face for the moment he spots it, and grins when his face drops into a wide smile. On the inside of the left side of the jacket, she’d added a breast pocket. It wasn’t really for anything though. Instead, it was so that she could embroider all of his children’s names in a way so that it would rest above his heart. The jacket also had tiny bat logos embroidered at the cuffs of the jacket. The thread was shiny and very dark so that it would barely show up against the black of the jacket. It had to be lit just right to see it, but as he tilted the jacket again, she knew he saw it. It had taken longer than suit jackets normally do for her, but it was because she knew that it had to be perfect. It was, after all, the first piece of clothing she’d made for her dad. 

“It’s perfect, Marinette.” He says softly, running a hand over the names. She lets out a sigh of relief before smiling at him. Things were still a little rough, but they were so much better than they’d been the night of the Gala. She was glad that she had stayed, that she hadn’t ran like she had so badly wanted to.

Next

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @trippingovermyfeet @mizzy-pop @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @jumpingjoy82 @lady-bee-fechin

#maribat #maribat bruce wayne #maribat bio dad bruce #maribat bio dad! bruce wayne month 2021 #maribat bio dad au #mbdbwm2021 #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat jason todd #maribat dick grayson #maribat damian wayne #maribat tim drake #platonic jasonette #platonic dickinette #platonic timari #platonic daminette #ao3fic #fanfiction #maribat fic #maribat fanfiction #day twenty one father's day

[toastedkiwi]

Goodnight

Summary: Chris facetimes you.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Roommate!Reader

“Bubba, I think your cats are trying to kill me,” Chris said the second you pick up his call.

“What do you mean?” You asked placing your phone up against the wall.

“I mean that I woke up this morning to Marie on my face trying to keep my mouth closed as Berlioz strangled my throat,” he said.

You watched as he paced around getting the house ready for him to go to bed. You know he’s fond of having natural light coming in and he loves opening up the curtains in the morning to get his day started.

“They also keep tripping me,” Chris said. “I’m scared for my life.”

You laughed. He finally looks at his phone screen to see that you’re in his big bathroom with wet hair and one of his t-shirts.

“It’s true, Munchkin! I got so many scratches on my arm. They are out for blood, Y/n, and I’ll be their first victim. Then Dodger will be next,” he said.

“We both know that Dodger gets along with Berlioz,” you said. “He even lets that cat eat some of his food.”

“It’s gonna be a fat cat. I also have scheduled an appointment for your cats so they can get their shots,” Chris informed. “And we can figure out when Berlioz can get his balls cut off and Marie can get spayed.”

You giggled, “balls.”

“You’re such a child,” he said shaking his head.

“You’re such a whiny little bitch,” you said.

“That is not nice— Dodger, bedtime,” Chris said.

“Do we ever call each other nice things?” You asked.

“I call you Bubba—,” he said heading down the hallway to his bedroom.

“You also call Dodger that,” you said.

“Yeah. I also call you Honey, Darling, Sugar— oh yeah! I fucking figured out what a sugar baby is, you fucking cunt,” Chris hissed.

You covered your mouth hysterically laughing.

“You fucking jackass! You embarrassed me on a fucking live. My baby sister had to tell me what the fuck a sugar baby is,” he ranted oozing his Boston accent. “I’m getting fuckin’ DMs asking me if I can be their sugar daddy! I’m not that fuckin’ old! Im only 39 living with a fuckin’ 20 something year old popstar, 2 fuckin’ cats, and a dog! I don’t have anytime for a sugar baby nor you suggesting that you are mine! It’s outrageous! It’s horse shit! Some people fuckin’ believe it too! But your ass makes more money than me!”

“Are you good?” You asked as he takes a deep breath.

“Yeah,” he mumbled.

You grinned and put your hair up. He climbs into his bed where a kitten is already on one of his pillows.

“How was filming?” Chris asked seeing that you’re starting your nightly routine.

“It was fine,” you said.

“Was it for... the one song that you and Machine Gun Kelly did or...?” He asked.

“Nah, I did the angsty song that you haven’t heard yet,” you said.

Chris yawns loudly and asked, “when can I hear it?”

“You’ll hear it with everyone else in the world,” you said.

“Lame. I live with you. I’m your emotional support animal,” he said. “I deserve to hear your masterpiece.”

“Dude, you can wait,” you said.

He groaned and pouted like a little kid.

“That look will not work on me,” you said pointing at the camera.

“But, Huuuuuuney,” Chris whined.

“Baaaaaaaby,” you mocked.

“I can put you on the streets, you turd,” Chris said making you laugh.

“Oh, but you see I’m in your mansion while you’re in your suburban white mom’s house,” you said. “All of your expensive shit is here, pretty boy, along with your Camero.”

“That was a gift from RDJ,” he said. “I should probably get it shipped out here.”

“I can make that happen. I was thinking about getting my car out there as well so I’m not stealing yours all the time,” you said.

“You might as well move all your shit out here,” Chris suggested.

“You sure you want that?” You asked.

“I’m pretty fucking sure we’re stuck with each other, Y/n,” he said.

“I knew that the second you practically kidnapped me and made me dog sit Dodger the night we met,” you said making Chris smile at the memory.

“I guess I have been kidnapping you since the beginning,” he said.

You laughed and said, “I told ya.”

“Don’t get snotty,” he sassed.

“How am I being snotty?” You asked.

“You just are— what are you putting on your face?” Chris asked.

“It’s a mud mask,” you said.

“Shouldn’t it be brown?” He asked.

“It’s blueberries and yogurt,” you said showing him the package.

“Then it’s not a mud mask,” Chris said. “That’s just blueberries and fuckin’ yogurt smushed together in that little weird packaging. I can make it myself.”

You giggled and continued to apply the pale blue colored mask upon your skin. He rolled onto his side and propped up his phone on the nightstand. He grabbed his book as well. There’s a comfortable silence between the both of you as you’re finish applying your mask and cleaning up. Chris has Dodger cuddling up with him and he’s flipping to the right page of his book.

“What are you reading this time?” You asked.

“A book,” Chris stated.

He doesn’t need to look that your blue face isn’t too happy about his answer. It makes him smile.

“So,” you said heading into his bedroom.

Chris puts down his book flat on his chest and looks at you. He can’t help but reach over and take a screenshot.

“Why the fuck did you just take a screenshot?” You asked.

“‘Cause I need to look back on that face,” Chris said. “When you look like the chick from Charlie & The Chocolate Factory.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned. “You. Are. Not. Posting. It!”

“Don’t provoke me,” he said.

“You’re so sassy,” you said. “Oh! Guess what!”

“I’m not guessing,” Chris said.

“Please? Please just guess,” you pleaded with a pouted lip.

“Fine... you’re... getting lip injections,” Chris said.

You end up hanging up on him. He laughed and tried to call you back but you don’t pick up. It takes him three tries until you pick up.

“No, Chris, I’m not getting lip injections. I’m going on the VMAs and I’m gonna fucking shit on your name,” you said.

“I can’t wait to watch it,” he smiled.

“I hope you eat shit,” you said.

“That’s my line,” he snorted.

“Whatever,” you sassed going back into the bathroom.

“Are you sleeping in my bedroom?” Chris asked.

“Yeah,” you said.

“Why?”

“‘Cause I miss you,” you mumbled.

“Awww, I miss you too,” he cooed. “You’ll be back soon.”

“I know,” you said.

“Oh, there’s Satan,” Chris said.

Marie jumps up on the bed. Chris is quick to flip the camera around and show you your little white kitten.

“She isn’t Satan,” you said.

“Yes she is! You just don’t believe me,” he said as the kitten made its way up to him.

“Cause you’re a liar,” you said.

“You’re the liar, you fucking blueberry,” Chris said.

“Am I a blueberry or a liar?” You asked turning on the faucet.

“I’m gonna put that on a shirt and sell it,” he said flipping his camera back on him.

Your cat curls up in between the space between his neck and shoulder. You wash away the mask off your face. Chris waits patiently for you to finish up and come back on the screen. He yawned loudly.

“You tired, Bear?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he mumbled.

“Oh look at you three!” You squealed seeing them.

You take a screenshot of them of course making Chris huff.

“Where’s Berlioz?” You asked.

“I dunno. Probably destroying our house,” Chris said. “Or plotting my murder.”

“Why would the cats murder you? You feed them,” you said and turned off the bathroom lights.

“I don’t know their motives,” he said.

You laughed and climbed into his big bed. You get under the covers and lay on your side looking at your phone.

“You’re looking comfy in my bed,” Chris said.

“It’d be better with Dodger and my kitties,” you said.

“Well, Honey, you just outta come back to Boston,” he said.

“And I will,” you said.

You both continue talking until he ultimately crashes. You screenshot your roommate who looks so peaceful in his bed filled with animals.

“Goodnight, Chrissy. Goodnight, Marie. Goodnight, Dodger. Goodnight, Berlioz,” you said.

You watch them for a good minute before hanging up.

Taglist:

@thefallenbibliophilequote @notbrooklynsblog @plokyu23 @anacrcarvalho

Credit to @firefly-graphics for the divider.

A/N: DM me or send a message to my inbox to be in this series’s taglist. It’s easier to track instead of comments.

#chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans #chris evans fluff #chris evans x famous!reader #chris evans x popstar!reader #chris evans x rockstar!reader #fluff #roomies taglist #roomies #chris evans x roommate!reader #coronachronicles #corona chronicles

[hargrove-mayfields]

Day one of the Horror on Cherry Lane Challenge! I’ll be participating this month as a writer! The prompt for today is Knife!

warnings for mentions of suicidal ideation and attempts, death, child abuse, and blood.

Billy met Steve in the psych ward.

Well, they met officially at Tina’s party, but that wasn’t the real Steve. That was the King Steve. Deeper than that though, even the Steve Harrington everyone else saw even after the breakup and the fall from grace still wasn’t the real thing.

That was fake smiles, overdone nonchalance to cover up the wound from his fallen status. Now he was stripped down to himself, all bloody bandages and tired eyes, the boy he was pretending to be finally broken down to reveal this.

Apparently, Ruthie Harrington found her son with his grandfather's switchblade- all the other objects in the house sharper than a spoon and with less sentimental value had already been tossed -bleeding all over her freshly polished linoleum floors. She dropped him off at the hospital a night ago and nobody’s been by to see him since.

Now, it’s by pure coincidence that Billy’s already in on the same day Steve’s admitted.

He’s been locked up the past three days compared to Steve’s one. These small town hicks are jumpier (ha) than he thought, and don’t think doing the walk and turn test on the edge of the quarry after downing a bottle and a half of fireball is as funny as he does. Whatever. Cid would’ve thought that was badass as hell.

So he was admitted, on suicide watch for a stupid joke that wasn’t really worth it, or even really a joke. Max came to visit once. She punched him in the chest as hard as she could and cursed him out for an hour. She’d never done that before. By the time she left they were both in tears, and maybe Billy realized a thing or too about his carelessness. Realized for the first time that someone cared.

But he’s still in here for another week and a half by law, so. He’s not going to mope about it. And while Steve Harrington showing up is about the last thing he’s expecting, he decides that’s at least something he can work with. Definitely brings a little life to the place.

He waits until Steve’s intense watch period is over to bug him, once they’re out of their cramped little rooms for a couple of hours to “socialize” (see, the more sound of mind keep an eye on the other patients while the nurses take their smoke breaks) Billy goes straight to Steve. Him and Harrington are far from friends, but that’s pretty much irrelevant when the only other choices for company are kids younger than them too scared to approach them and people too deep in their midlife crises to bother with teenage drama.

Throwing himself down in the blue plastic chair across from where Steve settled in, Billy kicks his feet up on the table,, “What’s up Harrington? Didn’t expect to see a familiar face in here.”

But Steve, poor Steve, takes one look at Billy with those haunted brown eyes, and his face just falls completely apart. There are tears on his way too pale cheeks before Billy even has a chance to breathe.

The smile drops off of Billy’s face, “Jesus Harrington, I know m’not looking my best surviving on hospital food and cigarettes without a hairbrush, but that’s a little unwarranted.”

“Shut up. Not everything’s about you, Hargrove.”

“Oh I disagree with that. But I get the point. I’ll let ya be.” Billy hums, scooting his chair back and getting up. He stops when Steve starts to speak, “Y-You outta be careful saying that kinda stuff in here.”

“What?”

“That the world revolves around you. They’ll come up with a diagnosis for that and keep you here forever. Drug you ‘til you forget your own name, let alone your status.” Steve tells him with humor, wiping the tears off his face.

Billy nods in understanding, sits back down with an interested smirk, “This ain’t your first time here, is it?”

“Is it yours?”

“Nah. I’ve done some shit on purpose, some on accident. Once it wasn’t even me. But s’never done anything to help so far.”

Steve puffs out a sigh, “Don’t I know it.. I’ve been in and outta this place since I was like, ten. Clearly nothing’s changed.”

“Why? What’s your dirty little secret, Harrington?”

“I cut myself, dumbass.” He deadpans, looking at Billy with a bluntness in his expression that reads more concerning, more like indifference to what he just said than matter-of-fact.

“No shit. But that ain’t the secret.” Billy probes further, can tell he’s getting under that mask Steve wears, “Why do you do it?”

“Legally, I can't tell you. And I don’t think I would anyways.”

“What about if I tell you all about me first? I got no reservations ‘cept the one that got me a bed here.”

“It’s not a hotel, Hargrove.”

“Eh, might as well be. Feels like the damn hotel California.”

“Is that why?”

“Huh? Oh no, I been pullin’ stunts like this long before we left Cali.”

“Like what?”

“Like downing two full bottles of my mother’s meds after she left. Not at the same time obviously, or I wouldn’t be here. Mostly ‘cause my dad didn’t even wanna take me to the hospital either time.” Billy doesn’t look at Steve while he elaborates. Not because he cares, he’s an open book, if a random old woman at the grocery store asked about his last attempt, he’d tell her.

But. He doesn’t like watching people’s faces. Seeing sympathy and concern there. It makes him feel all stupid and guilty. It’s usually not like that with other kids like him, but Steve’s different. He’s got a big heart. Even if there’s no room for himself.

And Billy hurt Steve before. He doesn’t want to see someone he caused pain caring so much about him. He already cracked when Max came to see him. This could be what splits him open, spills out all the things he’s covered up.

So he keeps going, “And like runnin’ out in front of traffic with my friends. They thought we were just playin’ chicken ‘til I stopped dead in front of a station wagon. Metal rims’d done me in for sure if one ‘a the older boys hadn’t pulled me outta the way. Damn near ripped my shirt in half how fast he grabbed me.”

“I’m guessing your parents are the reason why then?”

“Yessir.” Billy deflects, not good at getting deeper into it, “You wanna tell me yours then?”

“I started cutting because Tommy Hagan told me about it. He thought it was freaky, but when he ran his mouth about how they found the neighbor kid in his room, drained of all his blood from his wrists, I wanted to try it. I’ve tried liquor and drugs and all kinds ‘a shit I shouldn’t, but nothin’ stuck like cutting.” Steve pauses for a long time, his eyes going blank, staring right past Billy, “When my mom found out she.. she.. Forget it.”

“Hey, you seen my skeletons. Can’t I see yours?”

“No. I don’t wanna fucking talk about it anymore.” Steve answers, despite his assuredness, his tone wobbling with some unidentifiable emotion.

Talk about mood swings. Billy doesn’t get how nobody would’ve noticed something was up before Steve started carving into himself. Really, he knows someone would have seen it and just ignored it.

It only gets worse though, the reservedness turning to sadness and frustration. None of the words are coming out, but he can tell Steve’s thinking of the stories, reliving all that got him to the here and now. Billy can also tell there’s nothing he can do no to stop him from doomsdaying.

So when Steve is inevitably in the thralls of a panic attack, he tries to hug him tight, to try to get it to stop maybe, that always worked for him at least, but Steve swats him away. Judging from the way he winces, it’s not easy for him to do either, with those thick ass bandages constricting his wrists, but the tears and the pain on his face are buried behind his resolution.

He’s hiding something from Billy.

In hindsight, talking to a new patient about past attempts probably wasn’t his brightest idea anyways, so he switches the subject while Steve works on coming down from his panic attack. He brings up Max and her little nerds, trying to bridge the healthier connections between him and Steve that they’d both been ignoring since the fight. He mentions basketball too, another something they have in common other than trying to kill themselves.

It doesn’t really work, though Steve does stop shaking as bad, just curling up in his little chair and sniffling, pretending not to listen while Billy rambles on and on. But he doesn’t talk. It’s probably better for him not to anyway. Billy himself has been known to say some dumb shit when he’s in distress.

Ultimately, even once the conversation runs out, he stays with Steve until dark. He can tell from the way his gaze sticks to the floor that Steve recovered from his fit a while ago, but he’s embarrassed by having a breakdown in front of him, as if he isn’t in here for the same reason. It helps that he gets it though, and they sit in a comfortable, albeit very prolonged, silence.

Long after Steve gets xanned up and knocked out though, while Billy is still free to wander until the midnight curfew as a low risk patient, he decides to stick with him in his room. Billy’ll never admit it, but he gets nightmares, and he doesn’t want to face that just yet, so with a new friend as an excuse, he’s up half the night watching Steve sleep.

He remembers what happened earlier, how focused Steve was on keeping him away from him, despite his panic, and decides, with a glance at how deeply Steve is sleeping, his greasy hair all strewn about on stiff pillows, that he’s going to figure out what it was.

He snoops around in his bedside drawers, in the bathroom, in the locker in the corner. It’s there he notices the knitted jacket Steve was wearing before, hanging heavy to one side, like there’s something in its pocket. He touches it and feels the outline of something small, so he pulls it out.

He regrets checking though, because it’s a knife. Judging from the old looking engravings on its handle, and the coppery stains within the grooves, it’s specifically the very same one that got Steve hospitalized.

He shoves it in his own back pocket and keeps looking, with a quick glance at Steve, finding a note tucked where the knife had been. Written in perfect scrawl on bond paper that’s been folded a dozen times and stained with tears,

“Do it right next time, why don’t you? Your mother is too soft on you. I’m not paying for this again.

- J.Harrington.”

Billy doesn’t know what to do but throw the note in the trash. Not really in shock, but definitely more than a little fucked up from reading that, he sits on the end of Steve’s bed. His own dad, who'd more than once been the one putting him in the hospital, had never even said anything like that to him.

He didn’t get to talk to Steve much today, but they’ve got as long as Billy’s stuck in here together to fix that. Longer if he just pulls something in front of a nurse. And he wants to, really really wants to.

Because he knows he just met the real Steve, can recognize another broken boy when he sees one, and he knows too, that he never wants to meet a pretty boy like this again.

And if that’s his declaration to get clean, then so fucking be it.

But. He never promised not to hurt anyone. Ultimately he’d still need that outlet.

He keeps the knife. To make sure his pretty boy doesn’t get hurt again.

#CherryLaneChallenge #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #ej writer #story by ej! #tw self harm #tw attempted suicide #tw blood #happy October! #I’m so excited! #I’m gonna try to do all of this but I’m real busy coming up! #im not sure what vibe I’m goin got in this challenge #but I think it’s mostly haunting? #not scary but like that oh moment y’know

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

big brother to the rescue.

BEN MILLER

TRIPLE FRONTIER. ┃ USEFUL LINKS.

❝ request by @meteora-fc: hello hello! hope you're doing well :) i was thinking about a ben miller fic where when they're in the bar towards the beginning the reader is there with her friends and the boys push benny to talk to her bc he's getting distracted from conversation by her across the place. thanks a ton 💖

❝ words: about 1.6k.

❝ a / n: if you'd like to read a second part, lemme know! don’t forget to comment and reblog if you liked it, i’d really appreciate it!

“C’mon, little brother. She’s been looking at you the whole night”. Will says palming his back, after catching him distracted for the third time.

“Go, before I do”. Frankie challenges him with a petty smile, knowing it’s going to be enough to force the boxer to take the step.

Taking a deep, deep breath, finding in that gesture the encouragement he needs, Benny goes straight to you, waiting for the bartender to serve you another beer.

At first, you don’t notice his presence, until the unknown guy stops by your side leaning too over the bar. You two cross your gazes, sharing a soft smile that makes your knees tremble. The blonde looks really good, but for some reason, you have the feeling that he could be an idiot, so when he throws at you one of those horrible pickup lines, you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“I’m gonna give you advice. Don’t hit a girl like that”. You just reply with a chuckle, referring to his words.

“I’m more into hitting men”.

For a second, where you were about to leave with your drink, you squint at him having a sip and trying to understand the meaning of his affirmation.

“I box, professionally”.

“Oh…” You nod your chin, puckering your lips, showing him that this fact doesn’t impress him at all. “Congrats. Good luck in your next fight”.

Not giving him the chance to continue the talk, you come back to your table under the attentive looks of your friends, who are laughing at the poor guy and the gesture on his face. His brothers, on the other hand, have slapped their faces whilst shaking their heads disappointed. As soon as Benny joins him, Santi slaps the back of his neck, causing him to choke in his beer.

“There must be something wrong with my eyes, ’cause I can’t take them off you? Really, Benny? Really?”

The guys are laughing when Pope repeats his sentence, as Will puts an arm over his shoulders. “You’re lucky to have me… Big brother to the rescue”.

Anna nudges you, making you turn on your stool to watch a second guy walking towards you, very secure of himself. The only thing you wanted tonight was to have fun with your friends and seems it’s not going to be an option. Crossing a leg over the other and nailing an elbow on the table, resting your chin on your palm, you force a smirk when he offers you a kind smile.

“Good nights, ladies, sorry to interrupt. William, a pleasure”.

The man holds your free hand without asking for it to stretch it. Firmly. Like only a soldier would do —as your father does. He turns for a second to his friends, laying his oceanic and hypnotic eyes on you with a charming and funny grimace on his face.

“Sorry ‘bout my brother, you know... too many punches”. He has captivated your friends, who are gasping for him and the honeyed tone he’s using, covered by a raspy voice. “He has watched you looking at him and he was nervous, but he’s not a bad guy. Just a little asshole. But he’s worth it, believe me”.

“Okay”. You reply slowly, raising an eyebrow earning your attention little by little.

“He has begged me to not come, but I think you’re too smart to not have a date with him”.

“Your brother was right, you didn’t have to come. And you’re wrong, more or less. I’m very smart, but having a date with him doesn’t seem a very intelligent idea”.

“Got it. But he’ll be waiting for you at seven in Kaleo’s, tomorrow night”. A negative it’s not an option to the soldier, showing you his perfect white teeth in a huge smile clapping his hands before leaving. “Good night, ladies. Have a good time”.

Since last night, you've been debating with your friends if you should go to the date just to prove both men were wrong. Lucy would call you crying if you text her in case the guy is another idiot.

The first test is to see if he'd wait for you, arriving thirty minutes later than the hour William told you. Your heart can't help but race a little when you find the blonde boxer sitting on the hood of a black Mustang, in front of the restaurant. Wearing a white t-shirt and black jeans, he has both legs crossed and his hands laced over his lap. Head bowed down and a sigh escaping his lips as he checks the clock on his wrist. Poor guy, he's thinking you are not going to come.

You send a picture of him to the chat group where your friends are asking you if he's still there and, in less than a second, you receive a bunch of heart emojis from all of them. Keeping your phone in a pocket, as you tuck in your hands too, you begin to walk towards him. Step by step. Taking your time with a soft smirk curving your lips as you come closer and closer. Watching him texting someone too, you roll your eyes, imagining it's to some random chick to hang out with, due you have stood him up. Until you're almost leaning above his shoulder and you see he's texting his brother —who is very interested in knowing if you're there or not. You melt as he replies: “amma wait another thirty minutes, maybe there's traffic”.

“You can say to your brother I'm here”. You whisper into his ear, taking him by surprise and causing the boxer to jump off from the hood.

“Oh, fuck. You scared the shit outta m— Where you readin' my phone?”

“Nah, I've some witch in me”. You lie terrible, feeling goosebumps on your arms when his gesture changes suddenly.

A grin like a Cheshire cat decorates his face, offering you his phone as he pressed the small microphone in the bottom right corner.

“Hey, big brother, I came. I hope you weren't wrong”.

“I'm Ben, by the way”. He introduces himself as keeping his phone in a pocket, to offer you his right hand.

“(Y/N)”. You stretch it then, feeling a little nervous at his touch.

“So, this is the plan. We have a beer, and if you think I'm a freak, you can run away before dinner. No questions, no explanations. You just… leave”.

God, that's really sweet. He's nervous too and you can see in his blue eyes how scared he is if you really decide to disappear.

“Deal”. You accept, tilting your head to the restaurant.

A couple of minutes later Ben is sitting in front of you and the first thing that captivates your attention is the fact that he doesn't put his phone on the table. Living in the technology era, everybody keeps an eye on their devices. Constantly. But he's not like everybody. He wants to talk. Know about you. What you do in your free time, what you do for a living, what unveils you at night… And you talk for hours.

Ben tells you what pushed him to be in the army, why he decided to dedicate his life to boxing and he also jokes about how you could fix him up after his fighting. Something like a plan of the future. Together. As friends —as he points out to not make you feel uncomfortable, thinking that he is forcing you to have a relationship. You also discover that your taste in music and movies are very similar, just like your hobbies. And that makes you think about the fact that William will tell you “I wasn't wrong”.

The boxer gladly takes you home, not stopping your chat even when one of the two of you doesn't know what to say, Benny has shown you in some way he enjoys too much the sound of your voice though —how it goes a little higher when you're excited about something, how your throat vibrates when you laugh. And he's falling in love with the disgusted tic that wrinkles your nose when you don't like something, in a funny gesture.

You would die for staying together a little more, but you have obligations to attend tomorrow and your friends haven't ceased sending your texts asking you how it's going. As Ben stops his car next to your house, you sigh not knowing what to do —if just say bye, thank you, ask for his number, kiss him? Yes, you'd like to kiss him right now, but what does it say about you? Should you wait until the second date?

“Got a fight tomorrow night if you're free”. His proposition pushes you back to reality, turning at him on your seat while resting a shoulder against it. “You can invite your friends, mine will be there”.

“Your brother too?” You ask giggling, noticing the change on his grimace to somewhat underwhelmed because of your interest.

“Yeah, he will come”. Ben mumbles pressing his lips after nodding briefly.

“Ugh… Is he the kind of person who has fun saying I told you?”

Ben's gesture suddenly changes again. The shine in his blue deep eyes reappears and you provoke him a strong laugh when you furrow your nose like he literally adores.

“You've had a good night then?”

“Yes”. You don't hesitate to respond, leaning towards him to press your lips on his cheek with a loud kiss.

“See? He told you”. Ben can't help but make fun of you, earning a soft punch to his shoulder that makes him laugh one more time. “It's in the Holou gym, at seven”.

“Okay, I'll not forget it”. You reply, taking your phone and setting an alarm an hour before starting to have time to get ready. “Good night, Ben”.

“Good night, (Y/N)”.

GENERAL TAG LIST: @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @destynelseclipsa @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @jessprins13 @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @kenbechillin @miahelen @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @katsav17 @skits90s @wildsould1221

TRIPLE FRONTIER: @phoenixhalliwell @goldielocks2004 @pedritomando @spideysimpossiblegirl @im-an-adult-ish @chibsytelford

#triple frontier imagine #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #benny miller x reader #ben miller #ben miller x reader #benny miller

[g-on-ef]

Hey I was wondering if you're still a fan of Helluva Boss and what you thought of the latest episode?

@megashadowdragon asked: have you watched helluva boss episode 6 which came out today ( if you were unaware) what are your thoughts

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It warms my heart to know you guys ask for my opinion ^^ now let's get down to business

WARNING THIS REVIEW WILL BE A NEGATIVE ONE WIT A HINT OF POSITIVITY THESE ARE MY THOUGHTS AND OPINIONS ON THE EPISODE YOU DONT HAVE TO AGREE WIT THEM BUT DONT WASTE MY TIME WIT YOUR NEED TO ATTACK ME FOR HAVING THOUGHTS OF MY OWN YOU HAVE BEEN WARN

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

To answer both questions yes I still watch Helluva Boss however after their latest episode I think I will just stick to writing fanfiction about Blitz and Striker as well as stick to whatever content the fandom creates.

This episode if Imma be honest with you guys was not worth the wait, hell I was literally tempted to leave the episode as it just didn’t have my attention as the others.

The episode had some decent moments where I was chuckling a little but other than that I wasn’t that into it, to be honest the bad out weigh the good. 

Also I wanna add that a while ago I wrote how Vivzipop and her crew did not know how to handle complex characters or complex scenes and I was right, this show and their crew do not know how to handle mature topics without reducing them into a joke but we are getting ahead of ourselves so let’s start with the pros, the cons, and everything in between.

Let’s start of with the pros,

Loona knowing when Blitz was being serious was a nice touch, it showed that even if Loona acts like she doesn’t care about Blitz she actually pays attention to him and knows when he is being serious and when he is joking around.

Moxxie was the true MVP his interaction with the agents had me smiling as well enjoying his moments.

Blitz protecting Moxxie

STRIKER !!!! I am a simp for this imp and I’ll take whatever crumbs I can get to see him ^^

Verosika, Fitzorallia, love them, love them 

And that’s it...to be honest that’s it...like other than that that’s basically all that I like from that episode...

Now let’s get into the rest of this episode...

Okay was anyone other than me confused as to why they decided now was a good time to introduce the agents so late in the game?

Like at this point I am convinced that Vivizie and her crew are just winging it.

The agents were literally thrown in the show and it felt outta the blue, like I said it feels like Vivizie and her crew don’t know what they are doing and are just throwing things together like they could’ve given us hints that the agents were watching them, or give us a hint that they were being spied on, it didn’t even have to be big it could have just been small.

An example would be from my favorite book series Cirque Du Freak, in the first book Mr. Crepsely (a main character in the book) mentions something small that will become huge in later books, it was small but allowed the reader to be curious it gave the reader that something big was coming and we should be prepared.

Like I said it was a small hint but I left me curious and wanting to read more to find out more about what is going on.

Helluva boss didn’t do that it just threw this new idea and new characters without giving the others to grow.

If they gave us a hint that they were being watched it wouldn’t have felt like that idea came outta nowhere.

Also was I the only one that was uncomfortable with the way Blitz kept making jokes about the agent’s dead mom? I’m sorry but that was just wrong on soooo many levels.

Also with the truth serum thing...why did they use it if they weren’t even gonna get answers like again this came outta nowhere because the truth serum was supposed to make them speak the truth not look like they were tripping on acid. On less I missed something please let me now if I did.

Also to be honest the whole confession thing was once again treated like a joke, especially when Blitz asked Moxxie why he let Millie peg him, ummm...an emotional scene like that shouldn’t have jokes of any kind surrounding it, especially when it was supposed to be a heartfull moment.

Now Blitz ... okay Blitz and his vision was a little decent but I also didn’t like it.  A lot of people had their speculation especially with the Stolas scene but the more I look at it the more I see it as a bittersweet moment.

Revealing that he was afraid of intamacy wasn’t that big of a surprised since we already knew that like it was nice for conformation.

Okay now onto the Sto*itz moment in the song ... like I said this was bittersweet moment,

People interpet the scene as how Blitz is afraid to love Stolas others saw it as Blitz was still chained to Stolas and would only be free if he and Stolas talk it out and another mentioned how he was forever chained to Stolas and how toxic the relationship between the two is.

Honestly I viewed it as how Blitz will be forever trapped in situations like this were he is to afraid to love someone or love himself and unless he comes to terms with his own demons he’ll forever be trapped in an endless cycle of pain and misery.

Now onto why I think that that Vivizie and her crew can’t handle mature themes.

Two characters have just had a revelation about their relationship with one another and instead of being honest with each other it gets turned into a joke...again...

Moxxie told Blitz what he felt and Blitz told him he treats him like shit cause its tough love...da freak ??? You just had a moment where you realized you pushed everyone away because you were afraid to be alone so you rather push everyone away so you have an excuse to let them leave and instead of admitting to that you just tell Moxxie it was all tough love.

Not to mentioned that you’re giving compliments and than tell him your done because your out of compliments...again you had a huge revelation and instead of giving the characters time to digest what they went through you just toss it to the side. 

Another thing that pissed me off was how right after a huge moment you throw in a fight scene...I...why...just why ???

You had an emotional scene (that had no build up) but than throw it to the side for a fight scene that shouldn’t have been added at all.

Like the minute Millie and Loona saved them they should’ve opened up a portal and take them away not waste time on fighting only for them to get caught in the end.

Like I literally feel like they wasted all that time on animation than on writing and planning what they wanted from this.

Like again they had an emotional connection/scene and threw it to the side for some fight scenes which was a disappointment because had Loona and Millie saved them  and take them home Blitz could’ve had some major character development and the four of them could have a heartfelt scene admitting everything that bothers them and help them get closer. 

Nope, they decided to just throw a fight scene why I don’t know but it bothers me how they just tossed an emotional scene for some action scenes.

So yeah I am not happy with how that was handle at all.

Let’s also get to the Loona and Millie scenes...Millie crying for Moxxie once again made no sense as we never seen Millie care for Moxxie, hell she cares more for Blitz than Moxxie which is fucked up.

Hell when Moxxie was being critizied by her parents she didn’t do much to defend him hell Sally Mae was more honest with him than Millie.

Honestly Millie feels like she is being written by twenty different people who don’t know what they want from her.

And Loona, Loona could seriously be written outta the episode and nothing would changed.

Also they truly refused to let their characters grow seriously Moxxie was still treated like shit by Blitz in the end so yeah no character growth at all.

And now onto the last scene with Stolas and Blitz ... holy shit man Imma be honest with you guys Stolas asking for sex after saving them feels fucked up, to me it felt like the only reasons he saved the imps is so that he doesn’t get in trouble and for Blitz to reward him for saving them.

Again they could’ve had Stolas saving them and they could have had a heart to heart moment nope we had to toss all that emotional build up (if one can call it that) and toss it to the side for cheap jokes and a horny owl.

needless to say I was beyond disappointed with this episode and with the way they handle the “saddest” scene in the episode I am scared to see how they will handle the other scenes.

AGAIN I honestly don’t see why this episode took so long and I feel like Vivzie and her crew are more focus on the animation than anything else which sucks because this show has so much potential and it is being thrown to the side for pretty designs and shipping moments. 

Anywhore that’s my thought on this show let me know what you guys think ^^

~GoNEF out ^^

#answers asked #anonymous #Anon #megashadowdragon #helluva boss #helluva critical #anti stolas #anti stolitz

[xxred-riotxx]

Limelight

Part Twelve: Give me a color.

{Series Masterlist}

{Next}

This chapter is all smut. Nothing else. There is nothing relevant to the story line. This is also the first smut I’ve ever wrote so it’s horrible, but oh whale. The following chapters will reference this chapter but will not go into detail. You can skip it if youre uncomfortable or underage (again my blog is 18+). I will plan on releasing part 13 early so if you’re not comfortable with reading smut, you still get a chapter. 

Warnings: 18+! smut. eating out. vouyerism?peeping tom? fingering. ass play. choking. rimming. this is honestly sex without penetration. Dom shinsou. bratty reader. sadism/masochism if you squint. daddy/sir.

Word count: 1441

Mustering up courage, Shinsou left the bathroom to shuffled down the hall to his room. His left hand grasped the fluffy white towel that hung dangerously low on his hips; meanwhile, his right hand moved up to the door, his knuckles gently broke the silence. “Princess? Are you in there?” Silence “Y/n? Hey. I’m uh- I’m coming in. I forgot my clothes…” his voice trailed off while slowly turning the brass door knob. “Kitten, are you sleep…- oh my god.” He stood there in amusement. He would have never guessed his celebrity crush would be dancing in HIS room, wearing nothing but HIS shirt. The cord from your ears to your hand told Shinsou you had headphones on. A few seconds had passed before you spun around, noticing the practically naked man staring at you. “Shit. Toshi! You scared the shit outta me!” Hand raised, swinging towards Shinsou’s chest. One hand still on his towel, his other hand swiftly latched behind your back, pushing your chest against his. “I’m sorry kitten.” Your eyes met Shinsou’s mysterious violet eyes. “I- uh- it's okay. Sorry for taking your shirt without asking…” Mumbling under your breath, your heart sped up. It wasn't’ until you felt water droplets trickle against your fingertips, you realized Shinsou was holding you against his wet, and naked, body. “Toshi. You wanna let go? And maybe go get dressed?” You chuckled. “Toshi, huh?” his usual gruff voice had a dark tone to it. “I’m sorry. I just thought it was cute and-” “I never said I didn’t like it, princess.” Shinsou grabbed the hem of the shirt and placed his hand on your lower back, toying with the thin lace of your panties. “I can’t believe I’ve got you in my arms.” Smooth fingertips traced down his chest, before finding their home on his hips. You tucked fingers into the top of his towel, knuckles nuzzled against his adonis belt. “Hitoshi, please kiss me already.” Without hesitation, Shinsou pressed his lips against yours. Wrapping both hands around your plush waist, his tongue pressed against your soft lips. You opened her mouth, allowing his tongue in. The cold metal ball swiped against your inner cheek, causing you to jump, arching your back against the wall. “Give me a color, babygirl. Let me know whenever you’re not comfortable.” Shinsou mumbled against you. His hands clutched the back of your plump thighs, hoisting you up. Legs locked around Shinsou’s waist. There was a  playful pinch on your ass, followed by a husky groan. “What did I say, baby?” Realization struck… Shinsou is a major dom, yet your bratty side was telling you to disobey. “Sorry sir. Green.” Placing you down on his bed, Shinsou gathered your hair in his hands, moving it above your head, while attaching his lips to your open neck. Sucking on the now tender spot, he ran his tongue over the flesh. “You’re so beautiful, Y/n.” His breath hitched, gentle hands were now ghosting over his hard-on under the towel. “I feel like the luckiest guy in the world when I’m with you.” “Toshi, holy shit.” You huffed out. “What? Did I say something wrong?” Panic dripped from his mouth. “No. Fuck. You’re going to destroy me.” Wrapping your fist around Shinsou’s cock, you tugged at his length. At least a good 9 inches, if not more. A shaky moan drifted your attention. “Give me a color, daddy.” your teasing tone caused Shinsou’s dick to twitch under his restraining briefs. His strong hand gripped your throat, squeezing on the sides, your hand now removed from his cock and clasping onto his biceps. “I guess I’ve got a brat on my hands, huh?” Shinsou’s snarl caused your thighs to push together, making the slickness in between your legs increase. One hand tangled in your hair, and the other leaving her neck and settling on your clothed clit. “Toshi.” you whined. “Please.” Shinsou tugged your locks, a hiss slipping through your teeth. Rough fingers found their way under the elastic hem of your soaked underwear, lightly tracing your slit. Your hips thrusted upwards, craving Shinsou’s touch. “Hitoshi, please stop teasing me.” you barely squeaked out. “Ask me again properly, and I’ll THINK about giving you what you want.” His once normal pupils were now dilated and searched your face for any signs of discomfort or confusion. You wrapped your delicate arms around Shinsou’s neck before gazing deep into his lavender irises. “Please touch me, sir.” Shinsou plunged his fingers into your needy cunt, using the gathered slick as lubricant. Shaky little cries encouraged him to curl his fingers, hitting your g-spot with every thrust. “You look so fucking gorgeous, princess. Being such a good girl for me. I bet you taste as sweet as you look.” and with that Shinsou removed his fingers, Your now empty hole leaking with wetness. Your hands coiled into your  hair. Shinsou placed two fingers in front of your face before swiftly taking them in his mouth, tongue swirling, collecting as much sweet nectar as he could. His pleased hum echoed in your ears. “Give me your color, kitten. Because once I taste you, I’m not sure I can stop myself.” The once soft, angelic appearance Shinsou gave was gone, and replaced with a dominating devil; You weren’t sure which you liked better. “...green.” you barely whimpered. “I’m about to make you feel so fucking good baby.” Now laying between your legs, he snatched you by the thighs, bruising your skin, and pulling you closer. Lazy wet kisses were peppered across the skin on your calves before he placed them behind his head. Your hungry whines added fuel to his fire. Licking his way from your knee to your puffy lips, he could feel your whole body shaking in anticipation. Shinsou growled out “Itadakimasu” before attacking your clit with his tongue. You traced your hands over your body before lifting up the fabric against your tummy, revealing your breasts, and toying with your pebbled nipples. “F-fuck T-toshi. I ugh.” You couldn’t even form a proper sentence. Shinsou unfastened one hand from your thigh, the other still squeezing and pulling your pussy as close as he could. Two cold fingers met your warm cunt, scissoring your slit open, allowing Shinsou to lick long swipes from asshole to your clit. The stubble on his cheeks and chin roughly scratched your skin, but the sheer bliss you felt distracted you. Shinsou’s hungry snarls could be heard all throughout the house. You felt the pads of Hitoshi’s fingers rub the tight rim of your ass. “I bet you’ve never been touched here have you, kitten? Do you want daddy to change that? Do you like your asshole being played with?” You screamed as Shinsou plunged his middle finger into your tight, untouched hole. “D-daddy!” “Awe. I’m sorry babygirl. Let daddy kiss it better.” Finger still in your ass, Shinsou licked the puckered ring around his digit. His cock leaking precum onto the sheets, the towel now long gone somewhere on the floor. You clenched, nearly forcing Hitoshi’s finger out of your hole. Desperate whines flowed from your mouth. The feeling of Shinsou’s wet tongue and his thick finger fucking you was nearly enough to make you cum. The babbling mess on his bed motivated him to speed up. “Mm gonna make you cum so hard. -Gonna make you scream my name.” The vibrations from his words rumbled against you hot pussy. Feeling your climax approach, your thighs clinched together against Shinsou’s face, weaving your fingers into his messy, sweat drenched hair. Your hips rutted upwards causing Hitoshi’s nose to bump your needy clit. “Nngh… Toshi… gonna. FUCK.” Your orgasm was so close. You could feel it, you could feel the need to pee. You could feel his fingers abuse your asshole.  The twisting feel in your lower abdomen distracted you from the sound of the door opening. “That’s right, princess, cum on my face.” Speeding up his movements, his tongue greedily lapped against your dripping cunt. “Ah- ah- AH. unnf. Daddy-y-y-y.” Your juices splashed all over Shinsou’s face,  He looked up at you, blissed out, cock red hot and craving attention. “Fuck Y/n.” He released both your thighs and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “That was so hot.” A smug chuckle caught both yours and Shinsou’s attention. “Hell yeah it was!” The both of you quickly glanced at the door before fumbling for something to cover your nude bodies. Hitoshi grabbed the pillow laying next to your head and tossed it towards the door before yelling at his friend. 

“Kaminari, what the fuck”

Taglist: @makkihoe @thegalxe @fandomsandmore394 @myherotrashbin @degenerationarmy @spicy-therapist-mom @dekustowel @kac-chowsballs @mindofess @mirikusashes @yn-tingz @virgoamajiki @chaichai-the-weeb @staygoldsquatchling02 @princeabomination @someweirdshitman @thathoneybee3 @miitsukai @vampsclassiffied @oof-imsorry @sirachano0dles @fionathebanana @lordexplosion-murder20 @ouijaeater15 @whywontyousaveme

#Limelight smau #shinsou smut #hitoshi smut #bnha smut #mha smut #shinso smut

[jasonsthunderthighs]

So much shit has happened.

I don't know where to begin. It's just all so stressful and tirin.

When we were livin in a tent for a week or so, we also met a 40 or so year old dude that lived in the woods by the train tracks. He was cool at first. Very nice and supportive.

But as you know from my other post, the cops found us. We got called on by the cops three times (it wasn't exactly on us, just the other homeless people who actually would hang in front of the buildings in front of the train tracks) and told all of us to basically leave and not to live on the rail roads anymore, since it's public property and whatnot.

So, we leave and stayed hidden for a few days, and even away from the man, cause he was bein a little strange and weird.

On the 2nd of July, I was on the bus with my ex friend to get dabs for us (not my ex friend, cause she doesn't smoke.) and I get a text from my twin, telling me she's scared and that the man found our camp site and started to curse and yell at my twin. She tells him to basically fuck off and not to come back.

When we came back to the camp, we hid out behind this tarp thing that was already put up by someone who use to live there (we found the camp site trashed up and messy when we first came there.) to not be seen by the guy. He walks by our camp site and starts to THROW ROCKS AT US. VERY HARD THROWS AT US. One of the fuckin rocks almost hit my ex friend, which that still pissed me off and I grabbed this metal rod thing and machete to defend us from him, whilst my twin grabbed her hatchet to throw at him. He told us this was “war” (this isn't your turf, mate. 😒) and that he was goin to force us out if we don't leave, and leaves us, walkin back to his camp site.

We relax for a bit, tryin to pack our shit, (and smoke some dabs) and the fucker COMES BACK THROWIN GARBAGE AT US, threatenin and yellin at us. My twin got pissed and we both basically told him he's a coward for just throwin trash and rocks instead fightin us. (Three against one)

So, twin's boyfriend comes back from work and we gathered our shit in the middle of the night, with help from two friend of ours who has vehicles to help us move shit. As we were makin our trips (and almost done) the man COMES BACK (we're in a public parkin lot at this point) and starts to circle the four of us (our friend, my ex friend, my twin and I; twin's boyfriend was tellin his other friend who has a car where to go so we can meet him and whatnot) and threatenin us. We told him we'll call the cops on him, he just laughed sayin that he's got the police in his pockets, and that they won't help or believe us.

What I didn't know was that he tried to choke out my twin's boyfriend earlier with TWO OTHER WITNESSES watchin this man assaultin him for NO REASON. The man said that was a lie and called my twin a lyin bitch when she was on the phone with the cops.

When the cops did come around, her and her boyfriend explained what was goin on, whilst the man was yellin sayin that we're lyin and that he touched nobody. (Havin the cops in your pocket, my ass.)

The whole ordeal was awful. I had a massive panic attack and my friend had to calm me down from it.

Now, my ex friend and I are in a flat with two others who are very, very nice and even in the LGBT community. They can only take two people, so we went instead of my twin and their boyfriend and cat. Nobody wanted to take ‘em in, cause of the cat. Which fuckin blows, so they're actually living in the woods two hours away from here. They're safe, but I still miss my twin so much.

We're gonna be here for a few months to gather up ourselves, physically, mentally and emotionally, and financially wise. I'm workin my ass off to get the process faster and get a place soon.

The good thing outta all of this, is that my new flatmate is gonna teach me how to drive, give me his old car when he gets a new one later this month, AND (hopefully, he needs to talk to his guy) got me a modeling job through this awesome company (I don't know it all yet, he was tellin me bout this whilst I was workin my ass off last night.) so that's a few good things that's happened out of the three months so far.

I'm still gonna be busy as Hell, but I'll try to update and whatnot. I might just reblog a few of my posts, cause I don't have a lot to post right now at the moment.

Thank you for reading. I'll be back when I can.

#not DC #not DC related #personal #personal post #update #life update #I need to shut up #Shut up G

[glassartpeasants]

Fragile Hearts

Tomura Shigaraki x F!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Hanahaki disease, sad reader hours, reader is insecure, mentions of death, name calling, this is really sad so read at your own risk

A/N: I wish this shit didn’t hit different. Wanna know why? Probably because i’ve got 2 series going down at this moment. Crying In The Club plus and a Shigaraki one thats still in the making. So we’re suffering together ya’ll.

It’s angst month motherfuckers >:)

~~~

God he looked so handsome today. Those beautiful ruby eyes always found a way to creep into your brain. How could they not? You felt a wave love whenever you stared into them. It always gave your heart joy staring into them.

But it always gave you pain.

Maybe cause you were to afraid to confess? Or was the fact that he seemed to not even show a pinch of interest in you. Or was it the fact that he seemed much more interested in a different women every day. He didn’t even try to hide the fact that he indeed hire prostitutes or escorts. 

You never showed it but every time you saw a different woman leave his quarters it always felt someone had stabbed you right through the heart. You knew he was a reserved and quiet man. Hell he barely talked to anyone if it wasn’t for a meeting or telling someone off. He was a pretty angry and harsh soul. While you, well,

You were that kind of soul that you would have given the shirt off your back to anyone in need. Many villains (mainly Dabi) asked why even bother becoming a villain if you were so kind to them all, in Dabi’s words “Villains are suppose to be rude and horrible.” It was an reasonable question really. The true reason you became a villain was simple.

You held a unruly grudge against heros.

When you were about 8 years old a fire had started in your family home. The flames were so bright. You remembered that day so vividly. The screaming of your family trying to get everyone out. But they were stuck inside while you had managed to go over to a neighbors house and call the cops but when you called and they heard your voice they said,

“Listen kid we have bigger things to do. Next time when you call make sure there’s a real emergency instead of prank calling us.” And then he hung up. The cops, who were there to protect you had hung up on you.

And that fateful call was what sealed your families fate.

After that, you never really believed in the hero system. They had failed you and your family. Which was lead you to villainy. You may have been a kind soul but you would rather use that kindness to help out someone who you feel is worthy. The League of Villains picked you up off the streets, so to you, they were your only family.

~~~

You laid down on the bed that occupied your room, staring at the ceiling. It was nicer then the old bar you guys use to live in but, to you it didn’t feel the same. You were happy for how far you guys came but it just felt like most of the PLF kinda made you sad. You didn’t know why but it did. Maybe was it due to the fact that you wanted it to be just the league? You weren’t fond of these new people. Probably cause they tore you down a lot. 

Your quirk was Energy, your quirk allowed you to use energy of the sun to heal you and use sun rays. But the down fall of your quirk was that it was absolutely useless at night. So you had to rely on your combat skill in the night. That was one of the reasons they didn’t like you, cause your quirk kinda had a big flaw. But they also merciless teased you about being kind to your fellow league members. 

You wanted to scream at them. Tell them off, do something at least but, no matter what you thought you could do. Your confidence faded when you remember that they would probably tell Tomura about your outburst. And since he has a habit of decaying people without warning, you just decided it was best to keep your pretty mouth shut.

You sigh as you get off your bed before changing your clothes to pj’s. You put on the black tank top and pajama pants which were super soft and fuzzy. Putting on some socks you open the door and make your descent into the kitchen. You tried to be as quiet as you could. Not wanting to wake anyone up while you ran to get a midnight snack.

Once reaching the kitchen you turn on the lights and almost let out a scream but took a breath instead.

“Oh geez Dabi, scared the shit outta me.” You laugh before making movements towards the fridge.

“Good, gotta keep that blood pumping.” He chuckled before setting his whiskey down. 

You grab your snack before going next to Dabi and sitting down. You picked up your fork and begun to eat only to almost choke at Dabi’s words.

“So when are you gonna tell the boss you have a thing for him?” You almost choke on your food before looking at Dabi with wide eyes. What?! Was your staring that obvious? Oh god...

“H-how did you know?”

“We maybe surrounded by them but i’m no idiot. I can tell when someone has the hots for someone else. It’s just funny seeing you even try with that gremlin.” Dabi laughed at you while you crossed your arms. 

“So what if I think he’s hot? I know that I’ll never have a chance with him, considering all the woman he has coming in and out of his office.” You say with hints of sadness in your voice. It wasn’t hard to tell. You knew what this feeling was. You knew you had grown a one-sided love for your boss.

“Well if you think that you better be careful.” You uncross your arms with a confused look on your face.

“If your talking about me getting with him I know’ll get my heart bro-”

“No, I’m talking about you getting Hanahaki Disease.” What in the ever loving hell is that?

“What the fuck is that?”

“I can tell you one thing is that it never ends up being in a happy ending. So pray you don’t get it.” Dabi said before drinking the rest of the whiskey and going towards his room.

You furrow your brows as you look down at the table. Hanahaki Disease eh? Well you could probably look it up tomorrow, since you have no missions tomorrow as far as your knowledge. 

“The disease can’t be that bad, right?”

~~~

You wake up to a burning pain in your chest. You let out a little cough before going over to your bathroom to take a shower. This time you let out a louder cough, it felt like something was in your throat. Ugh this feeling was always the worst damnit.

You start coughing trying to get whatever the hell was in your throat out. You pounded at your chest before a little daisy popped out of your mouth. You fell on your ass while holding your throat, rubbing it as you looked at the flower with confusion. 

“How did that get in my throat?” You crawl over a scoop up the daisy. Looking at it with amazement and confusion. This is impossible, how the hell?

Grabbing your phone you opened up google and searched online for any answers on what this could mean.

‘i just coughed up a flower, what the does that mean?’

You wait for the screen to stop loading only to drop the flower and scurry away from it as fast as possible.

No way...this couldn’t be real, how could this happen! You knew you liked your boss but when you read the article saying it can only happen from a one sided love you knew you were boned.

How can you get rid of a love that has taken so long to blossom? Only for it to be your down fall. You kept reading up on it while sitting on the bathroom floor. The more you read the more scared you became. You could die from it if you didn’t get it treated! But the procedure was said to be very risky and highly dangerous. So it was pretty much up to you to get over your feelings for Shigaraki. Yeah that was going to be a pain in the ass.

Time could only tell.

~~~

Day One

You sat at the meeting while your eyes couldn’t help but stare at him. He was so gorgeous, who could you ever compare to the girls he brings to his beck ad call? They were perfect! You just felt like no matter what you did, you never could get the attention of your leader. No, you need to work on yourself! The disease can’t get worse or else-

“(Y/N)! Were you even paying attention?” Shigaraki’s voice boomed causing you to yelp. Snickering could be heard around the table causing your face to heat up in embarrassment. You look at Spinner and he sends you a apologetic look.

“No Shigaraki, I’m sorry. I had something on my mind.” You say looking down. You’ve never been one with getting yelled at. 

“Well get your head out of your ass and pay attention and if your not going to the doors right there.” 

“I’ll pay attention.” You said as you looked down, trying to stop the tears that threatened to spill. Your nails dig into your clothes thighs as you only listen to Shigaraki. You wanted to but all you could hear was sweet voice that you wished was there instead of the one now.

~~~

Day 5

You looked terrible to say the least. You couldn’t believe that is was growing this fast! I mean when you looked into it it said 2-3 months but you didn’t think it would grow so unreasonable fast!

Thinking about it and pushing your panic aside you’ve come to the conclusion that its going faster because of how deep your love and loyalty is for him. It’s so deep rooted that the flowers are growing faster.

Especially the one growing on your neck. 

You’ve looked into what each flower means and the first one which was a daisy meant innocence, purity and loyal love. This time however, it was a rose. You looked it up and saw that it meant girlhood, modesty and secrecy. You knew why this one had popped up. Probably cause of the fact that you’ve been hiding in your room a lot lately. You didn’t want anyone to catch you hacking up flowers. It was already painful as it is so you don’t need any judgement stares.

That didn’t mean your coughing didn’t go unnoticed though. Your coughs were loud enough that Toga and Spinner came to ask if you were okay a couple times. You told them you were and that you were just sick and that you would get better soon.

‘If by better then you mean dead.’

You shook your head before putting your head into your pillow. Effectively screaming into it out of frustration. How in the ever loving hell where you going to get rid of this damn thing if you couldn’t keep him out of your mind?

~~~

Day 14

You felt like shit. Your entire being just felt weak in general. There were bags under your eyes and more little flowers covering your face. If it were glued on and not attached to your skin, you would have thought it as cute. Now? You hated them, you hated yourself. What would your parents think? Seeing you dying over a man that doesn’t love you back. unknowingly killing you from afar.

A knock came at your door and before thinking you said come in. Your eyes went wide and before you could change your mind Dabi walked in and locked the door behind him.

“How long did you think you could hide huh?” Dabi said as he sat on the bed next to you. He may not have shown it but he was worried. He had known your little thing for Shigaraki but he didn’t know it would be this bad.

“I don’t know. How can I get rid of it when I can’t even look Shigaraki in the face. He would think I’m weak.” You said before coughing up another flower. This time blood was seen covering some of the petals. 

“Shit this is worse then I originally thought. It’s at stage three already. Yours is progressing insanely fast. What will it take to realize that he doesn’t love you.” You knew Dabi meant good with his words but you couldn’t help but feel a little bit of your love for him chip away.

Which caused a flower to fall off of your face.

“That’s it.” Dabi said as he picked up the flower and held it in his hands. You look at him with your brow raised.

“Stay here. But before I do what im about to do, just know I’m doing this to save your life understand?” You nod worried about what he’s planning. All you can do is sigh and hold your pillow closer to your chest as you waited to see what Dabi had in store.

~~~

Day 16

You laid in you bed watching some netflix when Shigaraki barged into your room with an angry look. Your eyes widen as you clung to the sheets you had wrapped yourself in.

“So I’m hearing that you love me.” He made it sound like a statement rather then a question. You look all over in the room to avoid his gaze. You shut your eyes only to have your head jerked towards shigaraki, making you look into his crimson eyes.

“Well news flash, I don’t feel the same way.” You swore you could have felt your heart drop in his stomach. Tears rimmed your eyes as Shigaraki looked all around your face noticing all your flowers. Looking into your eyes noticing how they were slowly turning white, making him let out a little chuckle.

“Your pathetic, you let something like love get in the way of my goal? Your so selfish you know?” Your tears were falling at this point. Blurring your vision while you felt a strong pain on your cheek. Shigaraki had ripped off a flower. A pink rose that bloomed on your right cheek.

“I find this hilarious honestly, look at you, needing my validation. When guess what bitch? Your not getting any. And you never will so you might as well tear off all these flowers off your disgusting face.” You couldn’t say anything before pain filled your entire being as Shigaraki picked off every flower that covered your face and neck, leaving you bleeding. 

You feel a light feeling in your chest as you felt like you could breathe again. the flowers that bloomed on your shoulder were slowly withering away. The feeling off something in your throat went away as well as all the flowers that bloomed on your body that was still left had withered and fell off. Your once blurred vision now crystal clear as you looked Shigaraki right in the eyes.

“Look better. Now if i ever see another flower on your face or in your room I’ll dust you myself understand?” You nod your head yes before Shigaraki let go of your face.

You hid yourself under the covers in order to avoid his gaze. Not seeing the little face of sadness that crossed his face.

~~~

“Did you do it?” Dabi asked Shigaraki when he saw him leave your room.

“No shit sherlock.” Shigaraki said as he walked past him only to be stopped by Dabi’s arm.

“It was for the best. She would have died if you didn’t.” Dabi spoke softly  before taking his arms away, Not looking Shigaraki in the eyes.

“I know.”

Shigaraki walked away before going to his room. Once he stepped in he closed the door behind him before falling to the floor. He threaded his hands in his hair before pulling out all the flowers he had taken from your face. Each one of them a different color. A cold feeling entered his heart, knowing that you were suffering because of him.

He had to remain strong. He couldn’t have love be in the way. At least that’s when he told himself at first. 

Ever since you showed up at the bar that faithful day, he knew he had to have you. He knew that he needed you. Why else would his heart beat so fast when you walked past. He always imagined you by his side, sitting on his throne with him. his queen of the villains.

If only he had confessed sooner. If he had he would not have to see you dying in your room because of it. Watching your life slowly slip from your eyes as the days passed by. You were hurting because of his stupid mistake.

And now he had to suffer the consequences. 

He held your flowers close to his face. They smelled of you. Reminding him of the deed he had just done. Tears hit the petals of the flowers, effectively collecting shigaraki’s tears. It hurt. Why did it have to hurt so bad.

A blue poppy was slowly growing on Shigaraki’s neck.

#tomura shigaraki #tomura shigaraki x reader #tenko shimura #mha #bnha #shigaraki x y/n #mha shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #Shigaraki #mha tomura #tomura shiragaki #TOMURA #mha angst #bnha angst #tomura shigarkai #tomura shigaraki angst

[beclynn-herondale]

Inside TMI Gang's diaries part 5 2/3

Clary: Dear diary, I ran away with Jace, mom won't be happy, but I have to save my Jace. Simon is covering for me, although that won't last long and mom may go mama bear on him, I do love him though and I'll owe him one. So far things have been weird, seeing Jace get along with Sebastian is strange and I don't like it, and Sebastian is as evil as ever, i miss Jace so much, this Jace isn't my Jace. And Sebastian doesn't trust me I know this for a fact, but I don't trust him either and you better watch your back Sebastian.

*Later*

So Jace's room is the same as it always is, so clean not a mess, everything is neat, but he isn't Jace. We went on a date, Sebastian let us cause Jace would be with me, Jace cam speak italian and hates ducks, I'll have to mention this stuff when he is my Jace again, we stole a boat but that's nothing new from what we usually do, the date was nice but I felt guilty for enjoying it, when we came back Sebastian was occupied and creepy, anyway, we had a talk when I woke up later and he is starting to confuse me, but that's what he wants. I went back to bed and got up again, also Jace can make eggs, I don't like them but can't tell him that, also I wonder if he can cook other things, need to make a list of things to ask him when he's back to normal Jace. We also read a copy of his ancestor's book.

*Later later*

Me, Jace and Sebastian, went on a mission kind of thing, Simon calls us team Evil, we fought a demon, and I actually kicked a demons butt, Sebastian took us to a kinda night club, me and Jace got high, Sebastian told me I have a dark heart and like bitch whatever. Me and Jace made out in the club and uh things kinda got outta control, I am not proud, ok, I thought I saw dead people and passed out, I woke up to Sebastian leaving and followed him, demons almost killed me and he saved me, what is he doing? I lost my ring and can't get in contact with Simon, everything is bad and maybe this is all hopeless, no, I just need coffee, sweet sweet coffee, I need a coffee high *coffee/knife/serious emoji*

Possessed Jace: Dear diary, things are good, Sebastian keeps giving me weird looks when I am with Clary though, Sebastian we are still cool though don't worry. Clary is here and it's nice, I want her to be happy and her to have whatever she wants, I am gonna be so romantic but cool about *sunglasses emoji* I am Jace Lightwood, and extremely smooth and she loves me.

*Later*

I took Clary on a date and I nailed it *sunglasses emoji* we went back home after that and I read to her and we went to sleep, after that we went on a mission, my fire goddess kicked ass, and Sebastian took us to a night club place to take care of evil stuff, me and Clary got high and we did some things at the night club. In the morning I made her eggs, I'll make her eggs all the time, Sebastian wants to discuss evil plans now.

Trapped Jace: *sharpening knives* just wait you little shit, keep looking at Clary like that and I'll stab you, I am gonna beat you up, you shall know my wrath, and I will bring it upon you. *Knife/murderous emoji*

Sebastian: Dear evil diary, what can I say, the fruit of evil is ripe, I have evil plans, I have Jace under my finger, I have Clary now too, and soon she'll understand. Jace will do anything I say and Clary will do anything for him, love truly does make one weak. And I wi burn shit. Also maybe I'll play with stuff as well. *Devil emoji*

*Later*

We got into a fight and Clary can kick ass, maybe I underestimated her a tiny little bit. We went to a night club and I talk to Meliorn and I do believe the fair folk will stand with me, and after all I do have something with the queen, and I know what you are going to say what about Jace? Well you see Jace is my backup plan he has no idea ;)

Alec: Dear diary, still sneaking around, Jace is still gone, Clary is gone now too, Jocelyn is angry and I know why she scares Jace now, Izzy and Simon are something, Idk but my big brother instincts are kicking in. Jocelyn and Izzy went to the Iron Sisters and found out there isn't a weapon to separate Jace from Sebastian, unless it is of heaven itself or something. *Shrug emoji*

*Later* so we summoned a demon, and then a greater demon, what have we become? I'll do whatever it takes to save Jace, but like when did we start summoning demons and greater demons like it's not a big deal? I think we've lost our minds, and we are also now apparently going to summon Raziel, what are we doing, but it's for Jace. Also Magnus does look good in his outfit today but there is stuff between us. When did life get so complicated? *shrug emoji*

Magnus: Dear diary, welcome back to the crazy chaotic would of Shadowhunters, I may have lost Clary, but it's not my fault she can make portals, I see an angry Jocelyn in my future. Alec is kinda weird lately but it's probably nothing, Isabelle and Jocelyn were going to the Iron Sisters to see if there is a weapon that can separate Jace and Sebastian, blondie needs to come back so all this Shadowhunter drama will calm down.

*Later*

We summoned a demon and after that we summoned the greater demon Azazel, the little shit almost told Alec who my father is, and I swear what have I gotten myself into? Oh! Also apparently we are gonna summon an Angel now, I have a feeling we'll all be dead by the end of this, it's a miracle we haven't died already, I have to do research and stuff, also Sheldon saved my cat so I am thankful for that, Isabelle and Simon have something going on, Jocelyn is gone, and I want to drink and drink, cause Magnus is done bitches. But also Alec is looking beautiful today. *throws glitter* *sunglasses emoji*

Izzy: Dear diary, Simon came to me like I asked him to, and he told me about starwars or something, I don't remember the plot exactly but I think they had something called lifesavers???? Or something, also they are apparently in space which is cool, and the good guys win. Also me and Jocelyn went to the Iron Sisters and they said I would make a good one but like bish ya girl needs her heels, idk what has gotten into me lately, but when I think about Simon I feel happy and I get this feeling and I want to spend time with him and hear him talk endlessly about starwars cause he is so passionate about it. *Confused emoji*

*Later*

We may have kinda summoned a demon, and then a greater demon, and now we may kinda be getting ready to summon an angel we are on our way to Luke's farm so yeah. . . But yeah, Simon may die and idk what to do... *Blank emoji*

Simon: Dear diary, life just doesn't seem to be letting up, first Clary ran off to do reckless shit, Jace is literally possessed by her evil Brother and is like a puppet, Jocelyn is mad I didn't stop Clary, but honestly who can stop Clary?!?! — Izzy went off to the Iron sister earlier with Jocelyn before she found out Clary was gone and apparently they can't make a weapon to separate Jace and Sebastian without killing them both, this is the part where that intense action yet hopeless music would start playing. *Nerd emoji*

*Later* I told Izzy the plot of Starwars and she listened and laughed and said it was neat, she said It was neat and even though it is so much more than neat for some reason her just listening to me talk about it made me so happy, she may become a fan *Shooketh emoji* but also we summoned a demon, and then a greater demon and now we are going to summon an angel to try and get the angel Michael's sword called glorious cause it's apparently the only weapon that will work, but I may die so rip, but also please let everything be alright but also I do have the mark of cain it's just a matter of if it works. *Worried emoji*

Church: Dear Cat diary, I come to you with the heavy weight of the most fucking done I have ever been, Jem is still hasn't come and saved me, Herondale is still possessed and honestly I am done, fire ball ran away, archer boy is off doing shit, Izzy is falling in love now too and I thought she would be the one who wouldn't like girl love drama? And Simon is probably contributing to whatever chaotic plan fire ball has. evil shit is probably off doing evil shit, where's that sweet little boy? Gone! Because an ass had to be an ass. Sorry I need to control my emotions, I just miss Jem so much, and these kids are driving me crazy, also Magnus you are contributing as well now,Jem Jem Jem pls. Anyway I am gonna go sharpen my claws and eat tuna and drown my sorrows in tuna. *Cat/tuna/murderous emoji*

Tag list: @khaleesiofalicante @chibi-tsukiko @megs-readstoomuch @spotsandclawsthings @magnus-the-maqnificent @replayfootsteps @sarcasticmalecfan @simply-ellas-stuff @my-archerboy

#clary fray #clary fairchild #jace herondale #jace lightwood herondale #clace #sebastian morgenstern #jonathan morgenstern #alec lightwood #alec lightwood bane #magnus bane #magnus lightwood bane #malec #isabelle lightwood #izzy lightwood #simon lewis #simon lovelace #sizzy #church the cat #inside tmi gangs diaries #tsc #the shadowhuter chronicles #tmi #the mortal instruments

[the-cult-of-russo]

Biggest Regret

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader 

A/N: This one wasn't a request. I have Billy on the brain so much that I literally woke up and this popped into my head as I was laying there trying to fully wake up and I had to write it lmao It's just a little thing. A letter from Billy to you. I know a lot of you guys might want a part two for it, the resolution to the letter and there's a few ways it could go. So if anyone asks for a part two, let me know how you want it. Angsty? Fluffy? A mix? And I'll see what the general consensus is. I already have a slight idea about it but I wanna know what you guys want. 

Also this is my AU dreamland where Billy didn’t betray Frank looool

Warnings: cursing, angst, sadness and regret from Billy. Talks of pregnancy and babies and abandonment.

-----------

Y/N,

I know it's been a while and I don't even know if you still live where you did back then or if you'll get this. I'd say some shit like I hope you're doing well, which I am, but… I know you won't want to hear it. 

I'm overseas again right now with Anvil. Me and Frank are taking point on a serious mission we're doing. Anvil's doing pretty well right now and we just got a contract from the CIA which is how we ended up here. Being out here like this, it reminds me of being deployed. Part of me missed it, I guess.

It's given me a lot to think about. It's funny how life and death situations do that to you, puts it all in perspective. And I know… I know you probably hate me and I don't blame you but I just hope if you do get this letter that you at least read it all. 

I never should have walked away last year. I used to think I was a brave man, I mean the shit I've faced in the marines and with Anvil… I never backed down and I always fought. But with this. With you and the baby, I tucked tail and ran and I'll never forgive myself for that. 

Honestly, I was terrified. I didn't think I could be the man you and the baby needed. I don't know what it's like to have loving parents and I hate myself so much for walking away. I don't want to do to my own kid what my mom did to me. I don't want them to grow up thinking I don't care, that I don't want them. It was never about that. I was never angry you were pregnant, I was never resentful. I was just scared that I'd fuck it up beyond repair so I got out of there before I had the chance. 

I should have been there for you, Y/N. I should have been there to hold your hair from your face when you got sick. To go out at 3am and get you pickles or whatever the fuck it is that pregnant women love to eat. I should have been there with you at the birthing classes and the scans and the appointments. I should have been there to hold your hand in the delivery room, to tell you what an amazing job it is you're doing. I should have been there to hold my kid when they came into the world. To be there for you and them. 

I can't take that back. I can't rewind time and be there and I wish I could. I don't know anything about my own baby which hurts the shit outta me and it's my own fault. I don't know if they're a boy or girl, how old they are. I know they'll roughly be a few months old based on when I walked away but that's about it. Do they look more like me or you? Are they a happy or fussy baby? This is the shit that's been running through my head out here. Fuck… I don't know if…. I don't even know if you kept the baby and that shit hurts too deep to even consider. But I know you well enough. Or at least I think I do. And I don't think you would have done that. As much as it would kill me inside, if you did I wouldn't blame you. I'd left you all alone to deal with it and I know neither of us planned a kid. 

Frankie was the one who told me to write this. He's been putting up with me nonstop the last month of us being out here crying  talking about you and the baby. He and Maria miss you, the kids too. Maybe that alone should have told me back then how important you were to me. I'd never introduced any of the girls I slept with to them, but it just felt natural to me back then. I'd wanted to. I couldn't even see just how much you meant to me. 

It's like they always say, you don't know what you've got 'till it's gone. And I didn't know just how much I cared about you until that day I walked away and I fucking miss you, Y/N. Frank and Maria always ask if I'd heard anything about the baby or if I've reached out and it breaks my heart every time with how disappointed they are. I guess I never really thought they'd be excited for me to have a kid. But they're my family, of course they would be. 

Frank roughed me up, you know that? I didn't tell him right away about the baby. He'd ask about you and I told him we decided it wasn't working like the coward I am. But then a few weeks after I told him the truth. He clocked me in the jaw, yanked me around as he yelled about how stupid and selfish I was. And I let him. He was right and I deserved it. I don't think I've ever seen Frankie so mad before and that's saying something. 

I know I should have reached out sooner, but being out here on the front lines like this, it reminds me of how fleeting life can be. And I wish it didn't take something extreme like that to give me the balls to man up and write this to you but I think we've all established I'm not as brave as I once thought I was. 

I have no right asking you for anything, I know that. But I miss you and I want to be a part of our baby's life. And you can ignore this letter or tell me to go fuck myself and I'll listen. If you tell me to stay away, I will. I owe you that much. But I'd… even if you could tell me about them a little, it would mean the world everything to me. And I know I don't deserve shit but I'm selfish and asking you anyway. 

I've seen and done a lot of shit in my life and your face has haunted me every single night since the day I walked away. I saw how scared you were. You were just as terrified as me about the baby and I wasn't there for you. I didn't comfort you or reassure you that we'd get through it together. Instead I shut down and told you I couldn't do it, I wouldn't do it. And then you looked at me with such heartbreak that it makes my chest feel tight and I fucking hate it. Every time I close my eyes I remember those looks and I know I'm a piece of shit for ever putting them on your face. 

It hurts more that you just accepted it. Like you expected it from me. I guess you knew me well enough to have an idea how it would go when you told me. And then you fucking respected my wishes and didn't contact me about anything. You didn't owe me that. You should have harassed me, called me a piece of shit, fought me, got child support. Fucking something. But of course you didn't. You've always been too kind and caring for that. Always looked after me even when I least deserve it. 

And I guess I'm hoping that even through the hate and betrayal you feel for me, that maybe somewhere in there you still care even just a little. Enough to put me out of my misery. Enough to send even a letter with the bare minimum details about our kid. I'm hoping that I didn't change you because you were perfect as you were and the last thing I want is to have fucked you up because of my own insecurities. 

There isn't a day that goes by where I don't think of you. Think of the baby. I wonder how you're both doing and if you're happy. I know you'd be a great mom and despite it all, I'm glad that if I had a kid with anyone that it was you. I'm coming back stateside in three weeks. It's gonna kill me not knowing if you've wrote back or not but I won't hold it against you if you don't. 

I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all the pain I caused you. For making you go through all this alone. For walking away from you and the baby like I did. If I was there I'd be down on my knees begging for forgiveness for what I did. All I can hope is that you take some mercy on me, even just a little. 

I miss you, Y,N. I miss you so much it hurts and I'm just sorry. Whatever you decide, I'll understand and respect it. I love you. And yeah I probably shouldn't say that, might feel like a smack in the face after everything I've done, but I do. And I know I never told you that when we were together. We were never really 'serious' or whatever, or at least that's what I told myself. But it was only ever you. When I was with you there were no others. And I couldn't see it at the time but I'd fell in love with you the moment we met in that damn grocery store. I don't know if you ever felt the same about me but I know even if you did I've ruined that. I don't expect anything from you. I fucked up and I know that. But it doesn't change that I want to be there now. I want to know about our baby, I want to be part of their life. I want them to grow up knowing I care about them because I do.

I hope to hear from you when I'm back but I won't hold my breath. I hope… I hope you're both doing okay and I'm just sorry for everything. I hope one day you'll be able to forgive me.

Billy 

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #the punisher #billy russo imagine

[scammydoesstuff]

So about that 'Blue Bloods' episode…

I recently saw something come across my dash regarding Alex Brightman’s guest appearance on the season 11 episode of 'Blue Bloods' (The Common Good) and it reignited the vehement response I had to the episode as a whole. And, since I have this blog now, I figured…fuck it. I need to rant about it.

So that's what this is.

Take what I say with a grain of salt, of course. This show is so clearly not for me and I acknowledge that, but I went to school for and got my degree in creative writing and so much of this episode pissed me off from a narrative perspective and I just really need to talk about it. Putting it under a Read More, though, so you can ignore me if you’d like while I rage to no one in particular. Apologies in advance if you choose to read on. I'm super long-winded. Luckily I don't have pictures and this is more of just a lot of text, so…it could be longer?

So, to begin, I’ll freely admit that I’d never seen an episode of 'Blue Bloods' before this and I’ve not watched it since. I mean, if the rest of the episodes are as badly written as this one, I have no interest to either, but I digress.

Overall my main problem with the episode was how desperately it avoided ‘showing’ over ‘telling’ and, as a visual medium, that’s kind’ve a big deal. We were told pretty much every detail that was presented to us. These people love to hear themselves talk, but do little to actually show things as they happen and I believe a part of that has to do with the focus of the show itself, which is definitely unique to this brand of television. By that, I just mean that it’s not the format I might’ve expected from a show like this. Most cop shows give a lot of focus to the cases, and the intrigue you get with the characters is how they apply their own skills and knowledge to solve them, with the hi-jinks they get into along the way being more of a bonus.

This is not that kind of show.

No, 'Blue Bloods' as a show is way more interested in the cops and their familial ties than it is about the actual job that they’re doing, as shown prominently with the political plot of this episode which was also very focused on the relationship between Tom Selleck’s character and his daughter and the wholly unrelated dinner scene where they talk about lent for 2 and a half minutes and acknowledge nothing else that happened in the episode. This show doesn’t care about the job of being a cop so much as it cares about the cops themselves.

Which would be fine if I gave a shit about cops, but I don’t.

You could argue that the mentor plot is the exception to that, but that entire situation had no real consequences for the cop in question, Jamie, abusing his power. It was entirely focused on how the situation affected him and how it was fine that he’d nudged this kid to get information which ultimately led to the arrest of Dion's brother, and Dion quitting the program. Hell, if Jamie had, in his final scene with Dion, owned up to his abuse of power and left the program — to then urge Dion to rejoin so that he can have that positive outlet in his life without him there — I would’ve been way more okay with it, but Jamie faces no consequences past ‘I don’t wanna see you anymore’, which I was never convinced he actually cared about in the slightest. There's nothing cathartic about it, it's just shitty and left me feeling frustrated at the lack of consequences for the cop.

But hey, you prolly don’t wanna read me going on and on about those parts. You prolly wanna know why I hate it despite Alex’s plot — which I fully expected to love because he’s perfect and gorgeous even when he’s playing a bad guy and he was just so adorable in his lil suit and they let him keep the scruff this time, and he was all handsome an— I need to stop. That could go on forever.

Anyway, to put it simply; it was bad, but I'll definitely explain why.

Now, I don’t think any of the guests in this episode necessarily did a bad job. They still acted well enough for what they were given. I just think they had a shit script that wasn’t interested in that story line. I mentioned at the top of this that this show cared more about telling than showing and that’s a huge problem when you want me to buy a character being the culprit in your murder plot. I need evidence, not anecdotes. Cuz, yeah, by the end of the episode, I didn’t buy for even a second that Ralph did it. And it’s not because he was played by Alex who is just charisma incarnate. I can believe him playing a bad guy. I also watched his 'Law & Order SVU' episode where he scared the shit outta me. He can play a creepy and violent character very well, he just wasn’t convincing to me as a bad guy in this show.

And here’s why!

First of all, he confessed at knife point. That confession would be thrown away IRL. It’s the same problem with using torture to get information. If a person’s life is threatened or they're being harmed in some way, they’ll usually say whatever it takes to get you to stop threatening them/causing them pain. Same deal here. You can’t convince me with a confession like that.

But they didn't seem to be interested in convincing anyone as far as I could tell. They just expected you to believe it because, ‘no, didn’t you hear? He said he did it, so he did it.’ They had so many opportunities to portray this character as the shitbag that we’re told he is. Hell, great way to really implicate him? Give him a female assistant that Donnie Wahlberg and his partner overhear / walk in on him berating for something small like getting him the wrong coffee or something. Then have them talk to that assistant later on and her mention some weird behavior from him on the night of Andrea’s death. It's cliché, but it's more than what we got.

Or you could have him talk to Meghan in a super condescending voice when he approaches her after her interview later on. Or, hell, have him refer to the murder victim in a condescending way even as he talks about her death. But no. The most we get out of him is that he's maybe a little snarky and smug when talking to the cops, but that’s not enough to convince me he’s a bad dude. Frankly, his producer buddy came off as more of an asshole, if I'm being honest. Just cuz (we’re told) his character did shitty things to her in the past doesn’t mean he’s still shitty. Show me he’s still shitty. I wanna see it and I know Alex is capable of a performance like that.

Second, it’s also just…obvious to make him the culprit if we're to believe everything we're told about him. He and Andrea are described as having had beef a little while before the murder with him being abusive mentally and physically. He’s known in the community to be a misogynist and an abusive person overall. He’s the obvious suspect, but if there’s anything that Scooby-Doo taught me, it’s that it’s never the most obvious person. Like, once in a blue moon, sure — but it’s rare.

So yeah, I don’t believe that Ralph did it. You wanna know who I do think did it?

Meghan.

Alright, so bear with me. This'll prolly sound a little conspiratorial, but hear me out:

She had the motive. She confirms in the beginning of the episode that she’s also a female gamer like the victim, but that she was ‘no Andrea’. Andrea was her competition. They were (supposedly) friends and stuck together as female gamers, but Andrea was still competition. With her out of the way, Meghan’s able to rise in the ranks, if even a little bit.

She had a scapegoat in Ralph — again, the obvious suspect given his tumultuous relationship with Andrea sometime prior — and an obvious grudge against men in their community in general. And, don’t get me wrong, men in gaming can and often are hella toxic — I’m not, in any way, denying that — but she got way more emotional when talking about the men in their community than when she was talking about her supposed friend lying dead in the adjoining room.

Speaking of the adjoining room, how did she not hear the murder happening? It couldn’t have been when she was down in the bar, cuz we see Ralph there too in the crappy CCTV footage that was supposed to show him being an asshole, I think (hard to really see). Was she just fucking around somewhere else when it happened? She doesn’t mention as much that I recall (correct me if I'm wrong on that, of course). And Andrea was strangled to death. I would assume that there would’ve been a struggle with that. Are you seriously telling me she wouldn’t hear that in her adjoining hotel room? Those walls aren’t that thick. I find that kinda hard to believe. And that she wouldn’t have found her till the next morning after that, also strikes me as a little odd.

Going off on some previous points, she shows very little grief over her friend’s death. Not just in the intro scene, either, but later on as well. (Side bar: that intro scene itself was very misleading. Don’t lead with a murder plot if it only takes up less than 10 minutes of the overall runtime, kay?) The show did a pretty bad job at indicating the passage of time, but it’s implied that the convention is still happening when Meghan gets the confession out of Ralph, so it would’ve had to have been the same weekend, or possibly the same week (though most conventions I’m aware of don’t last that long — it’s usually a weekend thing, at most Thursday-Sunday — but it could be similar to AGDQ, which seems to last about a week). So, if this is only a day or so later, why would someone who is supposedly grieving over their dead friend do interviews like nothing is wrong? Wouldn't you, like, reschedule or just politely decline and say you need time to process the shock? Like, when we cut to ol’ Donnie Wahlberg calling her after her interview, she doesn’t look upset — as I imagine she might if they’d likely asked her questions about Andrea / her feelings about the murder — and she seems cool as a cucumber when she asks Ralph to go somewhere private. In fact, the look on her face indicates pretty clearly that she’s planning to do something. Specifically, not that she's scared, that she's angry.

Finally, she’s the one who’s attacking Ralph when Donnie Wahlberg and company arrive on the scene. She doesn’t seem to have any marks on her indicating that he made any move to harm her (again, correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't remember seeing her with any marks / cuts), but he’s got a clear, bleeding cut on his face. She attacked him first and was going in for the kill.

Or…was she? Cuz right before Donnie Wahlberg pulls her into that bear hug to stop her from the attack, she doesn’t do a great job of actually trying to kill Ralph. She was close enough that a quick dart at him would’ve probably been enough to at least injure him pretty significantly — maybe even fatally — and would’ve surely led the cops to pull them apart to secure him, but she kinda just hops around a bit and screams before lunging for him. That’s a really weird way to attack when you actually want to kill someone.

But, then again, I don’t necessarily think she did want to kill him. I’m convinced she wanted that confession, but that she also wanted him in jail and was playing the part of the super sad and hysterical victim who was just so overcome with her grief that she wasn’t in her right mind. I think that’s what they were going for in regards to her character in general, but it came across as less sincere in the performance and more like the character was putting on an act. They then cart Ralph off while comforting her — despite the fact that she disobeyed a direct order from police, which should lead to her being detained as well! — and that plot ends.

So, she gets what she wants in the end. A person she despises is now in police custody, her competition is out of the way, and the publicity she might get for bringing that ‘murderer’ to justice might eventually lead to her own career getting a nice boost. I dunno, it just strikes me as her having a great reason to have initiated this over Ralph just being a misogynist who 'was really trying to kill Meghan and just got the wrong girl'.

So yeah, with what the show presented to us, I believe Meghan’s the real killer. Again, if they’d done more to show me that Ralph was a bad dude or that she was more affected by her supposed friend’s death, or if they'd just given that plot more room to breathe to show those things, I might’ve been more inclined to buy the narrative they were pushing but…as is, I don’t believe it.

That’s pretty much all I wanted to say on the matter. I had a lot of issues with the domestic abuse plot line too, but they barely gave that 5 minutes of the overall runtime, so does it really matter in the long run? This is just…my thought process of the only part of the episode I watched for and how disappointing it was for me. And yes, I timed each section of the episode to figure out how much time was given to each of the 4 plots, plus the dinner scene at the end, but not counting the intro theme, and the murder plot got just over 8 minutes, of which Alex was on screen for half of that time. He got less than 5 minutes of screen time. It was definitely worth it just because he’s wonderful and I just like seeing him on these shows, but from a narrative standpoint, it felt pointless.

Okay, I’m done. Thank you for coming to my TED talk. Unless y’all wanna talk about this some more, cuz I’m so down for that.

#scammy talks too much #scammy rants #blue bloods #the common good #alex brightman #long post is long #I'm long-winded as fuck #obviously I'm not an authority on what makes good tv #this is just all how I felt after watching the episode #It was just so disappointing after the INCREDIBLE performance on Law & Order SVU #if you like it that's cool #I'm not here to tell you you're wrong #or that I'm right about this #like whatcha like #sometimes I just gotta rant and get it outta my brain

[rockhoochie]

Title: Anything and Everything

Link: On AO3

Square Filled: Tongue Fucking

Pairing: Dean Winchester/YN

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Fingering, Oral Sex (M/F), Tongue Fucking, Squirting, Unprotected Sex (seriously, just be safe), Marijuana, mention of prescription narcotic.

WC: 8,290

Created For @spnkinkbingo​

A/N: Well...this escalated quickly! The story is told in alternating POV between Dean and Reader -  Reader’s is regular text, Dean’s is italicized. I debated on splitting this into parts due to the word length, but...well, I’m impatient, and I’m really excited to share this with all of you!  Plus, I think it flows better if it’s read all in one sitting  😉

This fic is dedicated to @fangirlxwritesx67​ - remember that drabble prompt you sent me like, two months ago, that was Dean and reader laying on a comfortable floor, listening to music, and he starts playing with her hair, and they have a first kiss?  Well, here’s your drabble 😄 Thank you for the inspiration!

And thank you everyone for reading!  Drop me a line, let me know what you think - I love hearing from you ❤ ~Sarah

(’Lay Lady Lay’ music and lyrics © Bob Dylan, 1969)

I set a kettle on the stove to boil.

Thank god Donna has this place, and thank god that we were so close.  We’ve been here for days now, nursing our wounds: Sam had a bruised rib and a nasty gash on his torso. Dean had a concussion and a dislocated shoulder. I'd been flung against a wall - I don’t remember much because I'd been knocked out hard, unconscious for hours - but by some miracle managed to come out of it with only a few ugly bruises and a migraine. Not our worst injuries by a longshot, but we’d figured since we had a home base, we may as well take advantage of it. We’d packed up yesterday,  planning on heading out this morning, but an incoming snowstorm kept us from venturing out - it was half a day's drive, and even Dean couldn’t deny that the Impala doesn’t handle best on icy roads.

I like it here. It’s so quiet. And dark. No sirens or traffic, no various and questionable motel noises. No glare of city lights marring the night sky. The only light outside is coming from the moon, the only sounds are the ones I make. I look out the window, wondering when the storm will move in - the moon is full, its brightness gleaming off acres of driven snow that glints and glimmers against an indigo sky. Normally, a stillness like this is a warning, a silence this pure a screaming harbinger - but I don’t feel any threat here. No forebodings, no gut-nettling intuitions. 

It’s peaceful. I’m peaceful. If I ever leave this life behind me, if I’m lucky enough to dodge all the bullets and claws and teeth and blades, I’ll settle somewhere up here, find a small house on a lake that’s tucked away from the rest of the world. He’d love that. And we could just be, live out our days and years together, work stupid pedestrian jobs to pay stupid everyday bills. I’ll plant a garden and he can restore classic cars while we raise a family and just...live...

The kettle sings and hisses, and outside, snow begins to fall in fat, feathery clusters. I pour the boiling water into a handmade, slightly lopsided clay mug that proudly proclaims “I Love Auntie Donna” in a childish script, dip and drown my tea bag, and shuffle back to my spot in the living room - my little nest in a gorgeous, hand-crafted rocking chair next to the fireplace. Donna told me her grandfather had made it, and every time I look at it, it astounds me that another human being created something so beautiful with his bare hands. Every nitch, nock, and spindle carefully considered and meticulously carved. Some of the stain has faded, and patches of lacquer have dulled, but that only adds to its beauty - you can tell this chair was loved.  

The fire I’d built earlier is down to embers. I sit and stare into the blazing coals, sipping chamomile and scrying for answers to questions I don’t know. The room is warm, but I need something over my shoulders, need the weight of something wrapped around me.  There’s a flannel draped over the back of the rocking chair...one of Dean’s flannels. And it’s my favorite of his, the dark red one that brings out his freckles and the deep jade of his eyes. I take it and slip my arms through the sleeves.  It smells like him...like whiskey and wintergreen, leather and cotton, copper and cordite... 

I catch myself before I start to fall too far.  I need to pack up these thoughts and put them away where they belong before they start making me hopeful again. 

I used to let myself get lost in them, let myself wander through giddy daydreams and float among sultry fantasies...I’d close my eyes at night and pretend Dean was by my side, just an arms reach away. I’d imagine it was his fingers pumping inside of me instead of mine, hear his voice in my head as I made myself come. Or I’d simply think about spending a day with him - walking through a park in autumn, stargazing on a summer night, cuddling and kissing on a rainy spring day. But after a while, when I’d accidentally found myself in love with him, I’d put all those dreams on the shelf; I'd only take them down when I was at my lowest and loneliest, grasping for a reason to keep going. There were a few times I’d thought about telling him, making a move...but Dean Winchester doesn’t need another complication. None of us do.

~*~

The shitty thing about being used to four hours of sleep is that when I actually get the chance for more, my brain doesn’t get on board. I came up here a couple of hours ago and I can’t seem to keep my eyes closed. Just keep staring at the ceiling and thinking about things I shouldn’t...

I love this place. It’s cold outside and the wind’s howlin’, but it’s damn cozy in here. If Hell ever gets a blast of Minnesota weather - and I can pack it in, leave the life - I’m getting a place like this. Hell, I’d build it myself, make it just the way we want it. We could move out here, where it’s almost backcountry, leave all the bad times behind us. It’s gonna be on a lake though - I’ll get a boat and go fishing all the time, teach our kids all the tricks to hooking the big ones...

Jesus, knock it off, Winchester. Like she’d let you screw up her life more than you already have.

YN's moving around downstairs. I should see what she’s up to, see if she’s feelin’ okay or wants any company...nah, I should just leave her alone. She got her bell rung bad the other day and it scared the shit outta me...I kinda lost it and yelled at her like a total asshole. I don’t get why I do that. Gun to my head, I guess it’s cause it seems simpler that way - rather piss her off and keep her from getting too close, instead of admitting out loud how I feel about her and watch her run for the hills.

She was in and out of it for almost two days, and I’d stayed with her as much as I could, at least till Sam would bark at me to eat or sleep. She’d used herself as bait - again- and I fucking hate it when she puts herself in the line of fire like that. I can’t stand it when she gets hurt, and this last time was...pretty bad. But she’s stubborn as hell, can’t be talked out of anything she’s already set her mind to. Actually thought she was gonna punch me when I got in her face, but I escaped with only a “fuck off, Dean”. 

And I suppose those are some of the reasons my dumb ass went and fell ass over tea kettle for her - her grit and her style, the way she can dish it as good she takes it, how she handles either a gun or a blade with this almost unnatural grace... one day, I watched her make salt rounds for an hour and it was one of the most spectacular things I’d ever seen - she was in this total zone, her forehead creased in concentration, and lips mouthing the words to a song I can't hear, growling out the cutest “fuck” or “son of a bitch” if she messed up.  

She’s the best part of my day - whether it’s seein’ her all cranky and bleary-eyed in the morning, passed out over a pile of books in the library, or bent over a pool table while she hustles townies  - I can’t think of a better sight. And her laugh is goddamn music to ears. Her eyes, her smile...her anything and everything keeps me going. I can be two seconds away from checkin’ out, but one look at her reminds me that it's all worth it, worth every drop of blood, sweat, and tears.

Christ, just thinking about her like this is making my dick twitch. Doesn’t help that she laid in this bed the last few days because I can still smell her. Her perfume or soap or whatever she uses is fucking delicious, a mix of spice and spring flowers and brown sugar that sticks to her skin and practically makes my mouth water, makes me wanna taste her…

Fuck, now I’m hard. I think about jerking off for a minute, but instead I think about that time Cas showed up in my car naked and covered with bees and swing my legs off the bed. No sense in just layin’ here, thinkin’ about things that’ll never happen. I grab my duffel and pull out my flask (not much left in there, maybe two or three shots) and some clothes. Gonna check out the room down the hall that’s got one of those old school record players. Maybe some good tunes will calm me down, get my mind off things. Off of her.  I turn to leave but then I remember- there’s a little something in my bag I’ve been hangin' on to. I dig through all my crap and find it in the inside pocket. Awesome. Screw consciousness, I’m gettin’ high.

~*~

I hear footfalls against the ceiling - one of them’s awake. It could be Sam, but I know it’s Dean - I know his stride, his tread. And I also know Sam conceded to the pain and downed an extra dose of Percocet, so he’s all but dead to the world for the next six hours.

We all have problems sleeping, each have our lion’s share of blood-and- gore-laden nightmares, but Dean’s always seem worse. They take a bigger toll on him. He wakes up screaming more often, drenched in a cold sweat with his sheets flung from the bed. Sometimes I hear him shouting in the middle of the night and it breaks my fucking heart.

Maybe I’ll go see if he’s alright, if there’s anything I can do for him... I hope he’s not still pissed at me for what happened on the hunt. Sam told me it was just because I’d scared him, because he cares about me, that it’s just easier for Dean to blow up instead of break down. But dammit I wish he’d open up, just a little. There were a couple of nights he and I had spent just hanging out together, nights where whiskey was flowing and secrets were shared...but right when it seemed like he was going to let me in on what was really going on in his head, he’d stopped himself, drained his glass, and said goodnight. 

I know what he’s been through. Or rather, I know of what he's been through. It would be sacrilege for me to even try to begin to empathize. I know about things he’s done, his devils and deeds that are unforgivable in most circles but necessary in ours. 

Dean is a good man. Everything he’s done has been a labor of love, a sacrifice. I know he doubts himself constantly and I know he hurts, vehemently and deeply.  But if he’d just let me in, if I could love him the way he deserves, I’d do anything and everything I could to take all that pain and somehow dull it. Sometimes I can actually get a smile out of him and it’s one of the most marvelous things I’ve ever seen - when the corners of his green eyes crinkle and his teeth peek out from behind those ridiculously perfect lips...god, it’s beautiful. He is beautiful, inside and out and I wish he could see that. 

Now I’m wide awake. My tea’s gone cold, and I’ve spent too much time wallowing in these thoughts that shouldn’t be wallowed in, and I’m not quite sure what to do with myself. I glance out a window and watch the now steadily falling snow, listen to the wind whip and whistle through the frigid night air. Sitting here in the dark alone with all of these thoughts has become too lonely. There’s a  room upstairs,  a little den with a couple of chairs and one of those huge console record players...I’ll grab that book I’ve been meaning to read and hang out in there, let some music fill the quiet and the story busy my brain. 

I take my mug to the kitchen, place it in the sink, and pull Dean’s flannel around me tighter. Hopefully, he won’t mind if I borrow it for the night. This way, I can be close to him without ruining things.

Music echoes down the staircase and I recognize the tune as I get closer to its source. Bob Dylan. Nashville Skyline, I think. Dim, golden light beckons me to follow and leads me to a doorway. I look down and find him lying on the floor, with his ankles crossed, and one arm bent behind his head, blowing a plume of smoke toward the ceiling.

“Hey,” I whisper, and he turns his face toward me, looking up at me with mellow eyes and an easygoing smile.

“Hey yourself. Can’t sleep?” 

I shake my head. “Thought I’d come in here and check out Donna’s music collection. But I see you had the same idea, so -”

“So? Come on in, stay awhile.” He pats the floor beside him, then holds up the joint fastened between his fingers. “It’d be a lot cooler if you did.”

I should really go, leave him to his own devices, avoid torturing myself. But before reason has any chance to intervene, I find myself lying next to him. He’s more of a drug to me than the smoke I’m sucking through my lips. I want to stay away, I should stay away, but I can’t fucking help myself. So like a good little junkie I give in, tell myself this is no big deal, that I can go back to not thinking about him tomorrow.

~*~

I’m so glad she decided to stay.

I don’t know if it’s the weed or the cold, dark night or what it is, but when I saw her standing there, all I wanted was to just have her near me. Even if all I get to do is hear her voice or just feel her presence next to me...well, I’ll take it. It’s not like this anything new, we’ve hung out like this plenty of times...though it’s times like this when I get so comfortable around her, that I really gotta reign it in and make sure I keep my damn mouth shut. And it never seems to get easier - like right now. She’s humming along to the music, making up her own words here and there and playing air guitar and it’s friggin’ adorable. She really is one in a million and if things were different, I’d hold on to her and never let go.

Somethin’ Sam said a while back pops into my head - somethin’ about finding someone who knows the life - and for a second I think maybe things don’t need to be different. Maybe we could make it work. But then I remember I’m toxic. Even for a hunter I drink too much, have too many fucked up thoughts, done way too many fucked up things. No, she deserves someone good, someone better than me. I can’t even believe she’s stuck around for this long. Sometimes I just look at her and wanna scream, “run”, before she gets hurt. I’ve accepted that I’ll never get the happily ever after but she shouldn’t. She can still get out, have a real life, meet someone who’ll give her everything and make her happy. Never in my life will I be able to give that to anyone - it just ain’t in the cards for me.

Then she looks at me, passes me the joint with this sweet smile, and all those thoughts just fade away. And I wonder - like I wonder almost every night - how her lips would feel against mine. 

Sam keeps tellin’ me that I’m an idiot, that she really likes me, that I should go for it. And for a minute, I actually think about it, cause the way she’s lookin’ at me right now is downright incredible - she actually looks happy to be here, with me. 

Is she? 

Truth is I'm selfish. And a bit of a coward. I'm too afraid to love anyone because I'm too afraid to lose them. Everyone I've ever lost took a piece of me with them and I ain't got much left. If anything ever happened to YN, I’d be done. She’d take the last of me.

I’m feelin’ a little goofy. Not stoned or anything, but definitely running out of fucks to give. Then I glance at her and notice she’s wiggling out of her button-down.. .my button-down. She rolls it up, tucks it beneath her head, and stretches back out on the floor. Her tank top is creeping up over her stomach a little bit, and it’s stretched tight over her tits and she’s got nothin’ on underneath…

I swallow hard and bite down on my lip cause I’m this close to just flat-out telling her I love her.

~*~

Part of me wants to tell Donna she desperately needs to redecorate this room...but the other, the part of me that's stretched out on the floor, listening to classic 33s and getting high with Dean, is perfectly content with the old-school kitsch. The shag carpeting we’re laying on is surprisingly comfortable; The color (what is this, ocher? Chartreuse?) - shouldn’t be allowed to exist, but the long polyester threads sprawling beneath us are soothing in a way. The light is low, flickering from two vintage oil lamps that stand on each end of the console, and casts shadows beneath its warm glow.  

Dean looks like he’s about to say something, but the last song has ended and skipped into a static scratch. He hoists himself up to flip the record, and I perch on my elbows and just...admire him. He’s different here. I’ve seen him lounge around the bunker during downtime but tonight he actually seems powered-down, carefree. There's something almost magical about what the calm does to him, how it lifts the weight he carries. His shoulders are relaxed, his movements languid, unhurried and uncalculated, eyes bright and serene. And he looks so fucking good, wearing a well-worn and well-fitting Zeppelin t-shirt that he must've had since before he’d built up his muscle. Softened and faded jeans cover his bowed legs and hang low on his hips, and I don’t think he’s got anything on underneath because I get a glimpse at the cut of his abs and...  

I wish I could tell him how amazing he is, how much he makes me smile, how much I love him; I wish I could show him, hold him, kiss him and just love him with everything I have...

The music starts back up and oh my god… he’s dancing. It’s really more of a slow-motion Elvis maneuver, but it’s the closest thing to dancing I’ve ever seen Dean do. Every tick of his hips pulls the fabric of his jeans perfectly across his ass, and I shouldn't be thinking about him this way but he’s just so mesmerizing…

And then he turns and faces me with his best impression of his best Bob Dylan.

Lay lady lay, 

Lay across my big brass bed

Lay lady lay, 

Lay across my big brass bed...

I throw my head back and laugh, not because he’s being ridiculous, but because he’s being so goddamn perfect. And the joy I thought I’d lost the day I cocked my first shotgun is bubbling up and making me giddy. Or it’s him. Or it could just be the pot. This is a side of him that no one gets to see, not even his brother. I can give him this, a place to let go of it all and just be Dean Winchester for a little while. He’s easy here, content, and he actually seems happy that I decided to stay.

Is he?

He claims his spot beside me again, settling in just a little closer. He's still singing to me and I'm still giggling…

Whatever colors you have in your mind

I show them to you and you see them shine

Lay lady lay

Lay across my big brass bed

Somehow his hand found mine, and he's tracing my knuckles with one calloused fingertip. I take it in mine and glance down at the connection, marveling at how small my hand is in his but how perfectly it fits. His hand is so gentle, warm and solid...it’s hard to believe how often his palm has bled, how many triggers his fingers have pulled, how many bones his fist has shattered.

He shifts, rolls to his side, and gazes down at me while he keeps up his serenade.

Stay lady stay

Stay with your man a while

Until the break of day

Let me see you make him smile

I grin as he brushes my hair from my face, tucks a few strands behind my ear, winds a section around his fingers. Then I see something in his face that’s never been there before - a shade of color reflecting from his eyes that's deep and rich and vibrant…

His clothes are dirty but his, his hands are clean

And you are the best thing that he's ever seen

Stay lady stay

Stay with your man a while

The way he's muttering the lyrics...it’s so sincere, like he means every single word.  The warmth of his body is just out of my reach, and the low timbre of his voice begins to resonate through my veins, nestling into a locked corner of my soul.

Why wait any longer for the world to begin

You can have your cake and eat it too

Why wait any longer for the one you love

When he's standing in front of you 

He’s still playing with my hair, pushing any stray strands from my face…my eyes flutter closed and his touch becomes something warmer, softer. Delicate, intentional kisses pepper my cheekbones, my temples, my forehead...

Lay lady lay

Lay across my big brass bed

Stay lady stay

Stay while the night is still ahead

I feel his thumb and forefinger catch and tilt my chin, and I open my eyes. He’s so close now, close enough that if I rolled on my side I’d roll into him, that if I lifted my head just an inch...

I long to see you in the morning light

I long to reach for you in the night

Stay lady stay

Stay while the night is still ahead

The silent formation of the last few lyrics are the first thing I feel and then his lips are fully on mine, barely grasped between his and I've never felt something so tender and genuine carry itself with so much force. He's cradling my cheek and his kiss feels tentative, uncertain - but at the same time teeming with need, as though he’s waiting for my approval while praying with everything he’s got that I’ll grant it. So I lean into him, slide my fingers along the short hairs on the back of his neck, and pull him closer. 

~*~

Maybe it was the weed, the music, the way the light reflected off her… whatever it was, it just took over. She looked too soft and too damn perfect, layin’ there and smiling that smile. And I thought about the other day when she was lying unconscious on that blood-stained, concrete floor, and the way my guts twisted at the thought of losing her…

I just couldn’t do it anymore.

I couldn't go one more night without telling her exactly how much she means to me. And it was a cheesy way to do it, singing to her like that, but Bob knew all the right things to say.

I actually can't even believe she's kissing me right now, that she pulled me close and wrapped her arms around me. Part of me thinks she's nuts - she's gotta know I got nothing to offer her, that she deserves so much better- better than me, better than this life. I can’t promise her anything - can’t promise a future or comfort... but if she lets me, I can promise to love her, to kiss her with everything I’ve got every chance I get, to hold her close and protect her... even if it’s just for tonight. 

She makes a little sound and arches her body into mine. I don’t know how far this is gonna go, but I’ll take my time getting there. This may just be a fluke, a one-time thing. Or maybe it’s not, maybe I’m the luckiest bastard on the fucking planet...either way, I want to savor every second.

I keep the kisses slow, open-mouthed and gentle. But then I feel her tongue slide along my lower lip and I can’t help but slip mine against hers. This feels so good, just kissing her like this, tasting her and feeling her beneath me. She’s running her fingers through my hair, rolling her hips every now and then, sliding her hand down my side and across my back. I kiss her harder, deeper. She’s moving more, breathing faster, making these quiet little whimpers. I break away and look at her, smoothing some of her hair away from her beautiful face. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are half-closed and right at this moment she could ask me to shoot the moon and I’d kill it dead. 

Her hand brushes my cheek and she pushes into me, silently begging me to keep going.

“You sure?” I whisper in her ear, kissing the space just behind it.

She nods and mutters “please,” and I move my lips down her neck. Her body trembles when I land on the spot where her neck curves into her shoulder - I give her skin there a little nip and she gasps... fuck, I need to hear that sound over and over.  I’m gonna map her entire body, figure out just the right way to touch her. Run my hands over every point, plane and curve, find every spot that makes her moan and quiver and sigh. I wanna drown, lose myself in her. I want her to know that I know how special she is, that I get how lucky I am to be with her tonight, that I understand what she’s giving me. I kneel between her legs, take hold of her wrists, and slowly push her arms above her head.

I need to see and feel and taste every single inch of her and I’m not gonna be quick about it.

~*~

First kisses are usually awkward. Heads bump, teeth collide, hands float and fumble while they try to find a comfortable place to land.

So I don’t know if it’s dumb luck, or just that I’ve practiced this so many times in my mind, but we find a rhythm instantly and we fit, like we’ve known all along exactly how to kiss each other. It’s so perfect that I almost laugh out loud, dumbfounded that I ever thought that we shouldn’t do this. Our kiss is absolute, passionate and all-consuming, and sending every neuron in my brain firing into a tailspin. 

I never want to stop kissing him. 

My arms are above my head and he's teasing me, softly kneading my breasts over my top, flicking at the stiff peaks of my nipples. I lower my hands to pull at our shirts, to let him know I need to feel his touch on my bare skin, but he gently curls his fingers around my wrists again and guides them back up.

"Let me," he murmurs, sliding his palm down my breastbone, over my stomach and finally beneath my top. “Just... let me…” 

Right as he cups my breast and traps my nipple between his fingers he’s kissing me again, swallowing every sound he’s pulling from me. I melt into him, into his kiss, into his touch. He pushes my tank top over my head and then his lips are on my neck, my collarbone, my shoulders. My forearms and fingers are dotted with kisses, along with my hips and navel, and then he’s peeling off my leggings, never once taking his eyes off of me. I’m completely bare beneath him and he’s biting his lower lip, running his hands from each of my ankles to my calves, my knees, my thighs...he looks as though he can’t decide if he wants to ravish me or revere me.

He settles for a smooth, easy assault, touching and kissing me everywhere, lingering whenever I cry out or sigh. I’ve never felt like this, never felt so...worshipped. His fingers and lips glide along my body as though I’m a delicate thing - carefully, thoroughly, and completely. My skin feels taut, chilled and tingling, but my blood is pumping hot and fast beneath. And when his tongue swirls around my nipple, and he takes it between his teeth, I swear to god I’d come right now if he told me to. 

I know I’m wet, I can feel it, hot and dripping and my cunt is clenching, clit throbbing with a deep, insistent  ache that almost hurts. Dean is everywhere, exploring and marking and claiming, until I hear myself begging, pleading...I need to feel him inside of me. I need him to unravel me, to make me come undone.

~*~

The way she looks right now is so goddamn glorious, she doesn’t seem real. She’s ruddy and glowing, twisting beneath me, chanting my name and begging with kiss-swollen lips. I let my hand slide between her legs, run a finger between her folds and christ - she is so fucking wet. She lifts her knees and spreads wide open for me and I dip just the tip of one finger inside. She ruts forward and I push two fingers all the way into her tight, hot pussy and fucking hell, she feels smoother than silk. I keep it slow, steady, loving the way her eyes roll back when I flick my thumb over her clit, and the way her tongue darts between her parted lips as I twist my fingers inside her cunt, searching for that spot...

Her eyes go wide when I find it, and her neck arches back and her hands fist the carpet. She’s quietly moaning and cursing and pushing herself down, fucking herself on my fingers. I catch her scent and some animal urge takes over me; I pull my fingers from her, bring them to my mouth and suck them clean. She's like fucking nectar and I’ve never tasted anything so good and all I want is more…

I pull my shirt over my head, push my jeans off, press her thighs as far open as she can spread them - god, her pussy is perfect, so pink and slick - and take a long, slow taste. She moans, low and long, breathing out a desperate “fuck, yes…” as she cards her fingers through my hair. And I growl, I fucking growl like a goddamn dog, and drive my tongue into her dripping hole. She hooks one leg over my shoulder and tilts her hips and I grab on to her ass and hold her up.  I lick her deep, thrusting and flicking and swirling my tongue, filling my mouth with the flavor of her, then I peer up at her and...My. Fucking. God, she’s a vision. She’s shaking, twitching and gasping when my nose bumps her clit...

I slip my tongue from her cunt, ease her down and spread her open with my fingers, lapping at her folds, her entrance, her clit. Then  I take that sensitive little bud between my lips and suck and holy shit, the fucking sound she makes...I gotta make her come. I need to see it, feel it, hear it.

But first I drag my mouth up her body, stopping to nip at her neck before landing on her lips. She licks into my mouth instantly, sucks at my lower lip, pushes her tongue against mine and I can tell she’s about to lose her mind.

~*~

I'd been in more than one motel room next to Dean's. And I'd always rolled my eyes, convinced that whatever girl he'd brought back with him was just putting on a show, playing porn star with their over-the-top wailing. 

They weren't screaming loud enough.

“Can you taste yourself, baby?” he purrs between kisses, "You taste how fuckin' delectable your pussy is? So hot and sweet...” and I moan into his mouth. He slips his fingers back inside and curls them, nudging my sweet spot. “Want you come, YN…wanna make you fall apart..."

I'm biting my lip to keep from crying out too loudly, stifling the urge to scream because the pleasure he's giving me is so complete and consuming. I swear he knows my body better than I do. He's found places on me and inside of me that feel like they've never been touched until tonight. I'd thought maybe I was hypersensitive, so eager and thrilled that this was finally happening, but no - everything he does is deliberate. He finds a spot and knows whether to bite or kiss, push or pull, grind or slide, when to do it all at once or not at all. Every touch, every stroke sparks my nerves and ignites my cells and I'm down to my last fragments of control. I am utterly at his mercy, reduced to a writhing, wanton mess as his fingers slide inside of me, hitting my g-spot with incredible marksmanship. Then his lips land on my clit again, and...oh God. Oh my fucking god…

It starts in my belly, a molten heat simmering in my core, wavering a scant wavelength away from a fever pitch. It’s hot and thrumming and growing in speed and intensity until it can't be contained anymore. It bolts through me, hot and hard like an electric current and I go rigid as I come, the torrents of bliss saturating every molecule of my body. And then Dean is up on his knees, three fingers deep in my sodden cunt, his other hand laying flat on my lower stomach and muttering "Come on baby,...let go…let go for me…" Either I'm still coming or I'm coming again, hard and completely, and a quiet pull snaps from someplace deep inside... I completely shatter, so stunned with the sensation that I open my mouth in a silent scream as my cum splashes against his hand.

~*~

I tuck back down between her legs and softly lap at the stray drops sticking to her thighs. I’m about to go crazy - I’m hungry, starving for her, and I don’t think I’ve ever been this fucking hard in my life. 

I lay beside her, trace shapes on her collarbone, and watch her as she comes down - the way her tits rise and fall with every breath, the way her throat flexes when she swallows, the way the lamplight dances off her sweat-sheened skin. Her eyes are closed, mouth slightly opened, and her tongue sneaks out every now and then across her lips. Of all the ways I’ve ever seen YN, this has to be the absolute, bar-none best. She’s like a living statue or a painting, some kind of work of art. A goddamn masterpiece. 

I don’t want to stop touching her. Right now, I don’t even think I could. She shudders and opens her eyes when I gently trace a wet finger along her cheek. Then she grabs my wrist, pulls my hand to her mouth, and wraps her lips around the fingers I used to fuck her. She sucks and licks, and all I can do is groan as my fingers slide along her tongue. I gotta distract myself or I’m gonna shoot off right now like a teenager…

I take my fingers back and move to hover over her, and catch her lips in mine again. Kissing her is so...it just feels right. Like hers are the only lips I ever need to kiss again. If this is all we do for the rest of the night - hell, for the rest of our lives, I’d be one hundred percent happy.  But as we kiss, she starts to whimper, moan...and then I feel her fingertips skitter down my torso and brush against my cock. And I can’t help it, I grunt out a “fuck, YN” and chase her touch. She drags her thumb, then her palm against the tip of my dick, smears precome around my shaft then wraps me in her fingers. I bite my lip and rock into her fist while she strokes me, trying like hell not to lose it any time she gives the slightest squeeze. I can feel her breath on my face and I’m starting to fall into the rhythm, getting lost in her touch and the heat of her body beneath me…

Then in the flash of a second, she hooks a leg around my waist, shifts her weight and turns, and has me on my back. She's straddling me, and I watch her slick pussy drag along my cock while my hands slide up her thighs and grip her hips. My eyes wander, slowly, up her body, marveling at her shape and color and just the mere sight of her swaying over me. My eyes meet hers and then...I'm trapped. Hypnotized. Being here with this woman is like nothing I've ever seen or felt before, and there's some part of me that knows I'll never feel this way about anyone ever again.

~*~

My gaze meets his and I'm struck...with exactly what, I don't know. It's thrilling and terrifying at the same time but most of all it's certain; This is exactly where I'm meant to be, astride this beautiful man who’s lying beneath me, stripped of all his layers, and I can feel the moment he surrenders. His mind and his body, his control and his chaos, his pleasure and his pain, all together unfettered and unfurled. 

Potent and fervent primal desire sets in and overtakes me; I want to claim him, feel his skin between my teeth, taste the salt of his sweat.

I shift to my knees, slot myself between his open legs and lean forward, pressing myself against the solid heat of his bare chest, and catch his lips in a quick but ravenous kiss. He tries to chase it but I pull away, letting one hand slide up his sternum, splaying my fingers over his throat. I fist his hard, dripping cock in my free hand and stroke. He breathes out my name with a curse and his head hits the floor as my mouth latches on to his neck.

Releasing my hold on him, my lips move from his neck to his collarbone, down and across his chest, following the blueprint of bruises, scratches, and scars until my nose brushes against the thatch of dark hair between his legs.

I flatten my tongue and lick his thick cock from base to tip, then take just the crown between my lips and gently suck. The taste of his precome fills my mouth and he moans and trembles, exhaling a long, deeply held breath as he laces his fingers in my hair. I take him all the way then, as far as I can, until I feel him hit the back of my throat. I hold him there and swallow, let him feel the soft flex around his shaft. I slide up and down slowly, stroking the inches that can’t slide down my throat with one hand, and cup his balls in the other. He whimpers, high-pitched and desperate, and the mere sound of that sends drops of arousal trickling down my thighs while my cunt clenches and quivers. His grip on my head tightens and I keep steady, caressing and taking him deep, and let the tip of one finger press against his perineum. 

His body tenses and I peer up at him - the muscles of his abs are twitching, his neck is arched back, the tendons there strained and taut, jaw clenched, and teeth bared...he’s holding back, trying not to come. He hisses out a breath and gently tugs my hair, urging me to let him slip from my mouth. “Fuck, YN”, he breathes, and I walk my hands alongside of him, gliding my body against his and brush his lips with a gossamer kiss. 

We both breathe hard, panting, fingers tangling in each other’s hair, hips rolling, hearts racing. His hard, thick length is sliding against the soaked lips of my pussy, the head of his cock nudging my throbbing clit. I look into the dark forest of his eyes, he places his hand on my cheek and suddenly there’s a surge - a swift and commanding energy that surrounds us, tangible and unconditional. 

Our gaze locks as I raise my hips. He grips his cock, lines up at my entrance, and I sink down slowly, relishing every inch that stretches me open, my moan echoing his until I’m completely filled with him. 

~*~

It’s almost too much.

She’s so warm, so wet, and so fucking tight...I swear I blackout for a second. It’s taking everything I got to hold on, and every ounce of control I can muster when she starts to move. 

She’s groaning and sighing, and the way she’s breathing my name is like a siren’s song. I let her set the pace, tilt my hips to push into her as she rides me, find her hand and lace my fingers through hers. She fucks me slow, lets her head fall back and lays her free hand on my chest. Reaching up, I slide my hand between her tits, pinch and tug one nipple between my thumb and forefinger, and she lets out the most beautiful cry I’ve ever heard. And that sound wakes up the damn animal in me and I thrust into her, as deep as I can. I want her to fucking explode, feel her cunt throbbing tight around my dick and soaking me with her cum.

She pulls her hand from mine and moves it between her legs. I pinch her nipple again and she gasps as her body trembles, and I know she’s getting close. “Gonna come for me, YN?” I snarl, and she stills - her head falls back again and her fingers work faster, and I’m so caught up in her that I just start babbling. “Fuck yeah, YN, fucking come all over my cock…that’s my girl...” I pound into her faster as she gets tighter and wetter and then I feel it, her walls clenching and her cum dripping, her body finally going rigid as her orgasm tears through her. 

I slow down and ease her through it, trace my fingertips over the curves of her glowing body and take in how absolutely stunning she is right now - her hair all mussed and tangled, her skin flushed pink, her lips bright red and swollen. Her eyes open and she grins down at me, the lazy roll of her hips picking up speed and I just...fucking...can't anymore.

I throw my arms around her and pull her against me, kissing her sweet lips as I roll us over. She arches into me, takes my face in her hands and purrs "...want it all inside me...I wanna feel your cum dripping from my cunt…" and holy goddamn shit, I'm gonna give her everything she wants.

She raises her knees and hooks her legs around mine, digs her heels into the back of my thighs, squeezes the walls of her pussy around me and I’m gone - all I feel is her silky wet heat, and all I can smell and taste is her sex and I drive in, fast and steady until I can’t hang on anymore. I let go and my world stops, every living fiber of my being at a standstill as I come with a shout. I thrust hard and deep and spill every drop inside of her, pumping her full as she fingers herself to another climax.

I rest my forehead against hers as we both catch our breath. She curls one hand around my waist and the other around the back of my shoulder, raking her fingernails gently along the base of my scalp. I kiss her, soft and quick, and pull out of her, rolling on to my back while I gather her in my arms. 

I glance out the window. The snow’s still falling and the sun’ll start rising soon. The record is long over and skipping, and YN grips me tighter and shivers. “Hey, sweetheart...let me up,” I say, kissing her forehead. She groans but lets me go and I sit up, lean down to kiss her again and hop to my feet. I lift the needle off the record and find a quilt that’s tossed over one of the chairs. YN's curled on her side, and I can hardly wait to get back to her. I cover us both, pull her close, and I stare at her until I just can't keep my eyes open anymore. We drift off in each other’s arms and the last thought I think is a little prayer - that this is how I’ll fall asleep every night for the rest of my life. 

~*~

I can’t remember who said it first. All I know is that it was suddenly there, as though it always had been, free falling from our lips as we moved and moaned and came together. 

We’d awoken several times, one of us roused by a kiss or touch from the other, neither of us willing nor able to let it end without making love one more time.  

The storm has finally passed. Sunshine beams across an azure sky and reflects with blinding brilliance off acres of freshly fallen snow.  I peek out the kitchen window and catch a glimpse of Sam standing near the garage, up to his knees in icy white powder.  

I set a kettle on the stove to boil. 

“Look like we ain’t goin' anywhere any time soon,” Dean says, coming up behind me and circling his arms around me. He moves my hair away from my neck and nips at the exposed skin.

I lean against him and cover his clasped hands with mine. “Can’t say I’m all that disappointed.” 

He hums and kisses my cheek, then moves his hands to rest on the swell of my belly.

“Your old man's gonna teach you how to make the best snowballs, kid. Knock your Uncle Sammy right off his ass.”

I giggle and spin around, draping my arms over Dean’s shoulders. “Big talk coming from the man who got a black eye during last year’s snowball fight.” 

“That was a fluke. She had an unfair advantage.”

"She's less than half your size!” 

“Exactly.”

The door opens and Sam trudges in, shaking and stomping the snow from his legs, laughing as he's nearly knocked over by a whirling, bright pink dervish of weatherproof polyester.

Our daughter runs over to us, cheeks rosy and nose runny from the cold, her apple-green eyes as big as sledding saucers.

“Mommy, Daddy, guess what?! We had a snowball fight and I won!”

“Ho ho! That’s my awesome little girl!” Dean cheers, scooping her up in his arms and swinging her through the air. He rests her on his hip, and they trade an Eskimo kiss. “Let’s go tell your Auntie Eileen and your baby cousin all about how you kicked your Uncle Sammy’s a - uh, butt.”

He sets her down and helps her unlace her boots while she tosses her hat and mittens to the floor. “Yeah, I kicked his ass!” she beams, and the three supposed adults in the room have to bite back their laughter.

“Yep,” he sighs, shaking his head. “Definitely a Winchester. No two ways...”

Once she's out of her boots and winter overall, she runs to Sam, grabs his thumb with her small hand and pulls him through the kitchen. Her tiny footsteps pelt up the stairs, layered with gleeful giggles. Then, with all the vivacity of her five years, she shrieks in triumph, “I beat you again, Uncle Sammy! I win again!”

Dean grins wide, pulls me back into his arms, and catches my lips in a kiss that teems with the same intense passion as the first one he ever gave me. And in seconds I’m melting, into his kiss, into him... into memories of a snowstorm and shag carpeting, the smoke of purple kush and the flicker of oil lamp flames, the pedal steel guitar riff of Lay Lady Lay and Dean’s hip-swaying serenade...

He breaks away, brushes a section of my hair away from my brow and tucks it behind my ear. Then he looks into my eyes with unwavering conviction and repeats the promise he’s made me every day since he took my hand in his - a promise that's as simple as it is complex, selfish yet altruistic,  sometimes dubious but always definite, and anything and everything in between: 

“I love you, YN.”

~Fin

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[allthefallendemons]

Liar, Chapter 1: The Devil Wears Prada (Lucifer Morningstar x Reader)

CHAPTER 2 OUT OF 11 OF THE LIAR SERIES

Prologue

Content Warnings: Bad Words, Gore, Dead Body.

Series Summary: After graduating from UCLA at the top of your class, you decided to open a cafe in LA. Un(fortuantely) for you, the only affordable place was across the street from LA's notorious club, LUX. A week into the store's opening, one of your employees turns up dead. Luckily for you, Detective Chloe Decker is on the case with her civilian consultant, Lucifer Morningstar. Secrets are revealed, promises are broken, and Liars get caught.

**SLIGHT SEASON 5 SPOILERS**

Word Count: 1.7k

--------------------

You walked out of your office, a small smile crossing your features as you watched each employee prep for opening day. "Jamie!" You cheered, walking to your store's supervisor, nudging the blue-haired girl. "How are things going, love? All is well?" Jamie's head shot up, her eyes slightly crazed as she looks at you. "Oh! Y/N! Things are going well! Everyone is pretty much ready, Christa is getting a little anxiety from such a long line but I think we can power through this!" Jamie put a hand on your shoulder, gently patting it. "You should be proud of yourself, Y/N, this is your business! You did this," you smiled, your gaze shifting around the room. You noticed Christa beginning to look frazzled, parting with Jamie so you could take care of your friend. "Hey, Chris, is everything okay?" You murmured softly, looking at your other supervisor with a caring smile. She looked at you, sharing an awkward smile with you. "Hey, I'm just getting a little anxiety. I have a bad feeling about today, I don't know why," you took her hand into your own, gently squeezing it. "You have nothing to worry about, darling. If you start feeling crowded, step into the back office and take a breather. I don't want you to force yourself to do anything," you tried to reassure her, as a grateful look crossed her features. "You're literally the best manager I've ever had," she squeezed your hand softly before letting go. You glanced over at the clock, your eyes widening in excitement "ITS OPENING TIMEEE," you cheered, running to the door to open up shop.

--------------------

The day was draining beyond belief, your last employee had finally left the shop. You didn't mind leaving the rest of tomorrow's preparation to yourself, it was your business after all. You smiled softly to yourself, proud to see the newly emptied shelves. Sneaking your favourite flavoured muffin from the case, you opened up the fridge and began to take out ingredients for the next day. "Thank God I don't have to make bread," you let out a quiet chuckle, reading through your custom baked goods list. "Fuck," you murmured, realizing you don't have the ingredients list for banana chocolate chip muffins. Figuring you must have left it in your office, you began to roam through the hallways of your work. Happily bouncing on your feet as you hummed to yourself. "when the moon hits your eyes," you sang, sliding open your office door "like a big pizza pie, that's amore." The door slid shut behind you as you noticed a lump on your couch. You could feel fright creeping up your spine, your heart thudding in your chest at a million miles a minute. You flickered on the light, preparing to fight this new intruder until you realized it was Christa. "Oh- Holy shit.. Chris, you scared the crap outta me," you let out a relieved laugh, beginning to walk over to the sleeping girl. "I'm surprised you're still here. Hell, I'm surprised you didn't run out after hearing my horrid singing."

Christa remained silent as you moved closer to her, realizing she must still be in a heavy sleep. "Hey, Chris, it's time to wake up," you put a hand on her shoulder, beginning to turn her over. "Chris..." You murmured, feeling your hand come in contact with something sticky. Once you fully turned her over, you noticed something protruding from her chest. "What the f-" your face dropped in terror as you realized your employee was not sleeping, but dead. She was fucking dead. To make things worse, your banana muffin recipe was attached to the knife that was stuck through your employee. In large, bold letters, the words "YOU'RE NEXT Y/N" was scribbled on the back of the recipe. "oh my god," your voice broke as your world began crashing in. Did he find you? You couldn't look at the note in Christa's chest any longer. You felt sick to your stomach, tears beginning to pour down your face as you broke into a sob. "I'm so sorry, Chris," your voice wavered as you took her hand into your own. "I will make sure that you get justice," you choked out as you reached for your phone, making the 911 call. Explaining the situation to the dispatcher, they told you to wait patiently on the scene and not to touch anything.

--------------------

The police finally arrived on scene, escorting you to the front of the store. You sat on the curb still in shock from what the hell just happened. You looked down at your blood-covered hands, feeling tears begin to resurface and run down your face. Who the hell would do this? Was it him? How did He find you so soon? You left him a couple of years back, how the hell is he here? "Excuse me, ma'am? My name is Detective Dan Espinoza, I'd like to ask you a few questions," you sniffled, feeling the pit in your stomach grow as you looked at him with terror-filled eyes. "I'm going to die, Dan," you came to the assuming conclusion that he found you. "How do you know this, ma'am?" Dan cocked an eyebrow, preparing to come to terms with the fact that he was dealing with another loony.

"Because I'm the reason Chris is dead," you said briefly, remembering that you can't blow your cover. "Would you like to elaborate on that? Or should I put you in cuffs right now since you clearly just confessed to murdering your employee." Dan's arrogant smile slid into a smirk as someone put a hand on Dan's shoulder. "Now, that's enough, Daniel. Leave the poor girl alone, she obviously isn't in a clear state of mind." A british voice broke the deafening silence as Dan let out a huff, walking away. A woman sat down beside you, looking at you with comforting eyes. "My name is Chloe Decker, this is my partner, Lucifer Morningstar. Can you tell me about everything that just happened?" Lucifer sat down to your right but you focused on Chloe, going over the details of what happened.

"I was singing that's amore, it's probably my favourite Dean Martin song. Mainly because I was craving pizza, but, that.. coming across that.. I don't think I'll ever be able to eat ever again," you could feel tears begin to flow down your face as the man beside you finally spoke up. "It's not fair for this to happen after such a wonderful day for you," you looked over at the man, gasping in fear and stumbling off the curb. You crawled onto the road, your heart thudding in your chest.

"Michael, no-" the man reached for you, pulling you off the road as a car whipped by. He stared at you, a look you couldn't read crossing his features. You stood there, shaking in his arms as Lucifer looked you in the eyes. "I'm not Michael," he reassured you, noticing your fear, "he's my twin brother," you relaxed slightly, sensing that the man was telling the truth. Mainly because his shoulders weren't slightly crooked but also because if it were Michael, he would have let you get hit by that car.

Chloe noticed the tension between the two of you, walking over to Dan to discuss more about the case. "How do you know my brother?" Lucifer let you go, the entire situation piquing his curiosity. "Yes but not quite well, we..." your heart thudded in your chest at a million miles a minute. Michael mentioned that his brother was impossible to run into. You knew you were standing in front of the devil, but what type of luck would it be that you would meet him after a week of being in Los Angeles.

You were stuck with a choice, to tell Lucifer the truth or to lie to him. You could feel chills run through your bones, this moment seemed to be going on for hours. But it was only a couple seconds after, "I met him in college." Lucifer cocked an eyebrow, tilting his face a little bit more. "College? Is that some sort of inneuendo that I haven't picked up on? Because if it is-" "No- No. I met him when I was in college. I saw him around campus. he was in a couple of my own classes," there was no possible way you could trust Lucifer. What if...

Lucifer saw right through your lie, but decided to play along. He looked you in the eyes, making sure to keep you close. "Well, Y/N, what is it that you truly desire? There must be something that you truly yearn," he leaned a little closer to you. You looked him in the eyes, feeling a pit begin to form in your stomach.

"My dearest Y/N, what is it that you truly fear?" "staying with you."

"Well, I..." you could feel that out in your stomach grow worse as you stepped away from him. "Sorry, I don't feel very good right now," you murmured, tears beginning to well in your eyes. You tried to put on a brave face, looking back at Lucifer. "I'm sorry, a lot is going on right now. I just want to catch Christa's killer," Lucifer's smirk quickly shifted into a shocked look. He glanced over at the detective before returning his gaze to you. "There isn't anything that you truly desire?" Lucifer questioned, causing you to tilt your head. "Not at the moment, I'm sorry," you spoke quietly, feeling frail and vulnerable.

No one could know the truth about who you are. No one.

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[notyetneedcoffee]

No Secrets, Part 4

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader (???)

Warnings: None in this section

Steve loved you and it terrified him.  

The purity of his love for Peggy and the depth of pain he felt over the loss of a life with her ran so deep, it left a gaping wound his enhanced system could not heal. The realization that something happening to you could wound him as deeply practically paralyzed him.  

Had it not been for the effects of the accident. You would have likely never known.

You remembered an old conversation. Steve once told you that the reason he’d been chosen for the experiment was because of who he was, not what he could do. He explained the serum enhanced not just his muscles, not just his physical being, but also who he was.  

“The serum would make worst come out of a bad man and the best come out of a good man.”  

It made you wonder if that’s why Steve’s emotions were so strong, so deep, and so distinct. They were like feeling in primary colors. Bold. Overwhelming.

Talking it through, with or without words, had been important.  

Now you just needed to figure out if you loved Steve enough.  

Even though he kissed you passionately, even though you felt incredible in his arms, even though you loved him, you didn’t know if you loved him as deeply. You just found out how he felt. You just discovered the power you held that could hurt him and more than anything you did not want to hurt him.

He left with your kisses on his lips and knowing that you were not rejecting his deepest desire. It was more than he hoped. It left you feeling both hopeful and frightened.  

The next day a mission sent him to central Africa and you had not been able to talk since. In fact, you had not talked to anyone over the last five days.  It began to drive you mad. You needed to feel normal, be around people. Which is why you were driving down the road, heading into town for a coffee.  

On the edge of town was a little strip mall with a grocery store, a nail salon, a dog groomer, a little hardware store, a teriyaki joint and a drive thru coffee stand. You didn’t even plan on getting out of the car. Just get a latte and feel a little normal.  

‘Shut up, shut up, shut up. You little fucking bitch.’

You looked in the rear-view mirror to see a crappy SUV. The man behind the wheel looked angrier than a wet cat. The woman beside him wept into her hand.

‘Buddy looked so scared. I hate leaving him there. He’s okay. I hate seeing him shake like that.’

‘Screw it. I’m getting the hot stuff. It's so good. Been craving it all day.’

‘Beyonce wouldn’t put up with his shit.’

‘I can’t forget my prescriptions this time.’

‘This is the best song ever.’

The voices of those in cars around you hit you all at once as you drew closer to the intersection. You tried to focus on the road, to shove it all back. Your hands tightened on the steering wheel. Maybe this wasn’t a great idea.  

‘No!’

‘Gonna kill you!’

Your eyes shot to the mirror again where you saw the guy in the SUV grip the woman by the back of the neck, hard. Her cries of fear and pain slammed into your mind.  

‘FUCK!’

The mental scream gave you a split-second warning. Your car smashed into the car in the intersection. The SUV rammed into you. The airbag blew in your face. Everything went fuzzy.  

Dozens of voices all at once battered against you. Your heart raced. You head and face hurt. You couldn’t catch a full breath. As your eyes focused, faces looked through the broken glass at you. You couldn’t tell the difference between their words and their thoughts. So, you stayed in stunned silence.

“Move! Out of the way!” A familiar voice reached your ears.

Sam Wilson pushed aside a man leaning in your car window. His hand touched your head. “Thought I knew this car. What are you doing here?”

“Sam.” You croaked. “Get me outta here.”

“Yeah. Okay.” He stood ‘Bucky is going to lose it.’  

Among the chaos, you tried to focus but couldn’t. So many voices. So much all at once. You covered you face and tried to breathe. A cool metal hand touched the back of your neck. Looking up, you found yourself staring into Bucky’s intense stare.  

“Are you okay?” He leaned over you. ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’

“No.” You clutched his arm. “Need out.”

“Back off!” Bucky roared just before ripping the door off the car. His arms came around you and lifted you out of the car. “I got you, Doll. You hurt?”

“Don’t think so.” Your arms wrapped around his neck.

“Move it, Wilson.” Bucky carried you through crowd towards a black truck. ‘Dammit, woman, what are you doing here?’

“I fucked up.” You whined, head spinning. “I don’t feel so good.”

“Sam! Now!” He tucked you into the truck, sliding in beside you and pulling you close. ‘Hold on. We’re almost away from everyone. Damn it. Look at you, Doll.’

After a bit the volume in your head decreased and air filled your lungs again. Physical pain in your head began to register. You touched your left temple. Bucky pulled your hand away, examining your face. ‘Looks worse than it is.’

‘Cap is going to blow his top.’ You heard Sam’s worried voice in your head.

“I’m sorry.” You whined.

“You’re okay, Doll. We’ve got you.” Bucky gave you a tender smile, but his thoughts were more harsh. ‘Got to stop being so rash. You’re gonna kill me one of these days.’

“We’ll be back to your place in a few minutes.” Sam said from the driver’s seat.

“My car... those people...”

“I left them with Hill’s card. She’ll sort out all the details. Don’t worry, nobody was really injured.” Sam explained. “Let’s just get you back.”

You head began to clear a little. Bucky’s worry still enveloped you as much as his arms. ‘Could have been killed. Good thing we were going for lunch. Dollface looked so scared.’

“The guy behind me.” You swallowed. “He was hurting his wife. Wasn’t the first time.”

“In the SUV?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. I got distracted.”

“Hold on.” Sam hit the remote button and called Maria. As they conversed, Bucky’s fingers combed gently through your hair. He reminded himself you were okay, that you were safe.  

“My face hurts.” You mumbled.

“Looks like you knocked your head on the window.” Bucky spoke quietly. “You’ve got a pretty good burn from the airbag too.”  

‘You should have been safe. About had a heart attack when Sam screamed your name.’

“Okay, we’re here.” Sam pulled in the driveway. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah.” You sighed. “I think so. Embarrassed.”

‘Cap is going to be so mad.’ Sam parked the truck in front of the house. He turned in his seat looking at Bucky holding you. ‘Damn. Damn. Damn.’ He opened the door. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”

You stepped gingerly to the ground and let Bucky lead you inside. He made sure you were settled you on the sofa before heading to the kitchen for ice. “I’m so glad you guys were there.” You put your head back. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, well, we never did get lunch. So, I’m raiding the cupboards.” Sam announced.  

You smiled, even though it hurt. “Make me something too?”

“No problem.” Sam started looking in the fridge.  

“Here, Doll.” Bucky lowered down beside you, gently touching an ice pack to your face. ‘Don’t argue, just let me take of you.’

‘Scooby dooby doo, where are you?’ Sam sang to himself from the kitchen. You smiled.

‘Huh?’ Bucky scowled.

“Sam,” you whispered. Bucky nodded, his shifted examining the burn from the airbag.

‘Looks like it stings. Still beautiful, though. Thank god she didn’t hit the steering wheel.’ Bucky’s eyes intensely examined your face. ‘Got to keep her safe.’

‘Cap should have told him before he left.’ Sam’s thoughts reached you. You froze. Steve told Sam about his feelings for you, but not Bucky. Your eyes locked with Sam. ‘I don’t know how this works. I don’t know if you can hear me, but Cap didn’t tell Bucky how he feels about you. Don’t break his heart.’

You didn’t know which ‘him’ Sam meant, but you didn’t want to hurt either of them. Steve and Bucky were your friends. You loved them both, felt completely comfortable with them. You didn’t want either of them hurt, ever.

‘She’d be so pissed to know how much I just want to lock her away and keep her safe. Keep her here, where I can watch over her.’ Bucky’s thoughts caused a band of emotion to tighten around your chest. His fingers traced your face. ‘You so special, Doll. Love you too much too let anything happen to you.’

“I’m okay, Buck.” You said finally.

“You shouldn’t have left the house.” He scowled.

“I know. You’re right.”

“Sam.” Bucky’s voice rose a little. “Remember today’s date. She actually said I’m right.”

“That’s one for the books.” Sam laughed. “Will that jaw of yours be okay if I whip up some burgers?”

“You sure you want to be around me that long?” You picked at the white powder covering your shirt.

“Ain’t worried about the stupid shit bouncing around in my head.” Sam laughed. “You want cheese?”

“Of course.” Bucky snorted. “Don’t worry about it, Doll. Neither of us wanted you to be sent out here anyway.” He gave you one of his charming smiles. ‘I’d already tell you anything you wanted to know. I’d never hide from you.’

“I’m going to get out of this.” You stood up. “The airbag dust is itchy.”

Disappearing into the bedroom, you were so thankful they couldn’t hear the confused and panic laced thoughts in your head. Steve didn’t talk to Bucky about the feeling he’d been harboring. What were you going to do now?

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