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#i’m sorry saint motel i still love you
moonjxsung · 3 months
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Also! I would love to know what song or songs you think describes each of the boys! (Skz) 💕
I’M SORRY THIS IS SO LATE POOKIE WTAF I LITERALLY SAT ON THIS ASK FOREVER….. okay from songs in my library, here’s what I chose 🫶
Chan:
Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby- Cigarettes After Sex
Like a Star- Corinne Bailey Rae
Her- Majid Jordan
Minho:
Over When You Die- Dada Plan
Brooklyn Baby- Lana Del Rey
Cold Cold Man- Saint Motel
Changbin:
After the Storm- Kali Uchis
For You- TV Girl
Frontin’- Pharrell
Hyunjin:
National Anthem- Lana Del Rey
So Sad, So Sad- Varsity
Novacane- Frank Ocean
Han:
Little Freak- Harry Styles
Norman Fucking Rockwell- Lana Del Rey
Gone Gone/Thank You- Tyler the Creator
Felix:
Tongue Tied- Grouplove
Paris- Magic Man
TTYL- Morabeza Tobacco
Seungmin:
Goodie Bag- Still Woozy
Too Good- Arlo Parks
Are You?- Zeph
Jeongin:
Slowdown- Lunar Vacation
I Love You More- Son of Cloud
She’s So High- Tal Bachman
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katishome · 2 years
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Sweet Talk - Grumps n’ Sweets 2
Pairings: CEO!Harry x Chef!Y/n
Summary: Harry begins to win her over with his persistent attitude and charming quips.
Word Count: 1.7k
The song Sweet Talk by Saint Motel reminded me so much of Harry and Y/n’s relationship in this story:)
Part 1
~~~
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i’m the biggest dummy in the world:( i didn’t tag @treatbuckywkisses for making this incredible moodboard for me!!!!!
“Piss off, Harry,” you groaned when you saw his smiling face outside the shop’s door.
“No,” he only smiled harder.
“Stay away from me!”
***
Harry decided he was going to win her over, no matter what it took.
On Monday, he dropped off a bouquet of Sunflowers, some red roses and lavender added in for some extra color.
Favorite flowers for my favorite girl :)
-H
She’d left them at his secretary’s desk that afternoon.
Allergic, sorry :(
Tuesday, he sent them back to her, an old picture of her at a sunflower field attached.
Liar
-H
And you can bet, they were on his desk by the time he came back from his meeting.
He was met with a picture of her middle finger.
The flowers had begun to wilt by Wednesday, so he bought a new bouquet and they repeated the same thing for weeks.
Harry stood at the door with a small bear, it was white and covered in hearts.
“I think you’ve gotten even cheekier over the years,” he smiled as she let him in. They’d started doing that, Harry just sitting at the counter while she set up for opening. It was nice. The peace and quiet, and just being in her presence felt good. She set the bear with her stuff, and got to work. The other chefs had gotten to know him as well, since he was there every morning when they got to work. He’d become particularly close with the sweet Nigerian woman that reminded him of his grandmother, named Alika.
“Harry! How are you today, sweet child?”
“I’m good Alika, how are you, darling?”
“Good, good! Are you hungry my boy? I’ll make something for you very quick,” she offered with a smile.
“No, no. I had a scone this morning-”
“Scone? From where?!” Y/n shouted from the kitchen.
“Oh, you in big trouble, boy.” Alika laughed as she disappeared through the kitchen doors.
“My mum made them! I swear!” He threw his hands up in surrender, biting his lip to hold in his laugh.
“If I find out you’re lying Harry!” She warned. “You have to go, Harry!”
“Thank you, love. Have a good day!”
He was quickly out the door, but didn’t miss the, “you too!” She shouted back to him.
***
“Hold on just one moment, Ms. Finley,” Harry interrupted. Stepping out of his office, he saw his employees crowding around the floor to ceiling windows down the hall. He pushed through them, scanning his eyes around trying to spot where the siren was coming from. But before he could locate the truck, panic set in. Thick, black smoke was pouring out the front doors of the little coffee shop across the street, if you could still call it that. Everything was a blur from there. He didn’t process shoving people away and sprinting to the stairs, almost tripping about 10 times, or making it out the fancy doors of the Styles Dazzling Designs building.
There was barely anything left. Just a blackened foundation of the once cafe. Harry was brought out of his trance by the sound of sobs and shouting.
“Harry!” Y/n shouted, frantically crossing the street to him. She let out a whimper as she wrapped her arms tightly around him, burying her face into his suit jacket.
“What happened?”
“One of the new chefs burned the caramel and poured it down the sink, everything happened so fast.”
“Are you alright? Not hurt?” He worried.
She gently pulled back and showed him the burn across her wrist, tears in her eyes. She looked so scared and vulnerable, like she did that day he ended things.
“Let’s go take care of this,” he placed his hand on the arch of her back and led her inside.
Y/n’s sitting on the couch in his office while Harry holds a cool cloth to her wrist. A pout on her lips as she looked up at him.
How can he stay serious when she was looking at him like that? Like he was the only thing right in the world.
“Harry?” She whispered, “I'm scared. It’s- what am I gonna do? I haven’t had another job since college. I-”
“Hey,” he started, “ look at me. You’ll be ok, hm? You’ll figure it out. Let’s worry about you and this burn right now.”
She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder. Everything happens for a reason, right? They both subconsciously inched towards each other, breath fanning across one another’s lips.
“Ow,” she winced.
“Oh ‘m sorry love, didn’t mean to.”
“It’s ok,” she smiled softly. She was quite relieved he’d squeezed her wrist, she wasn’t quite ready to be close to him like that again. Though her body thought differently.
***
Harry invited her for dinner, to get her mind off of everything. He sat her on the counters, a glass of wine in her hand as she swung her legs, humming to the background music as he cooked.
They sat on the couch and ate, catching up on work and how things have been since they’d separated. But Y/n had had one too many glasses of wine, and not nearly enough food for all the alcohol to stay down. So he took her glass and walked to the kitchen, giggling at the way she continued to talk to herself. Though, when Harry comes back, she’s nowhere to be seen. He places the water bottle on the coffee table and spots her rings strewn across it. Then her left shoe lay on its side adjacent to the couch pillows, her right on the floor next to the couch, her sweater laying on the floor in front of the stairs. There was a trail of socks going up the stairs.
“What’re you doin?” Harry called.
“Gettin’ in bed!” She replied as if it was so obvious.
When Harry reached his bedroom, Y/n was on her tummy, face buried in his pillows.
She turned on her back to look at him, her eyes drooping and mouth hanging open slightly.
“‘m sleepy,” she whispered.
“I know, you wanna take these off?” Harry asked, hooking his thumbs onto the belt loops of her jeans, tugging slightly.
“Yeah,” she smiled up sheepishly, “want y’hand shirt please.”
He didn’t even think he still had that, but he’d look for her.
“Harry?” She called.
“Yeah, love?”
“Want m’shirt!”
“I know, ‘m lookin for it!”
“I’m cold!” She complained.
“Get under the covers, silly,” he laughed.
He peeked his head out of the closet when she heard her straining and whining.
“Gotta lift your hips, darling,” he chuckled, abandoning his search to help her.
“Can I have some tea and biscuits?”
“If you’re awake in ten minutes, I'll get you some tea and biscuits,” he reasoned, brushing the hair away from her face.
“I don’t think I have that hand shirt anymore, darling,” Harry pouted.
He suddenly remembered that she was an emotional drunk, breathing out a sigh to prepare for the tears that were already forming in her eyes.
“Don’t cry, I’ll find you another.”
“But I want the hand one,” she whimpered.
“I know you do, but how about I find you a better one, hm?”
“Ok,” she sniffled.
With some more tears and arguing, Harry managed to get Y/n into his “but daddy I love him” T-shirt.
She immediately settled down when the smell of him filled her senses, cuddling down into his sheets and kicking out her legs.
“I missed you, Harry.”
“I missed you too, darling. So very much.”
“Harry!” She called out.
He came wobbling over to his room, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
“Where’d you go?” Y/n pouted.
“To the other room,” he responded through a yawn.
“Why? I was comfy lying with you,” she whined, patting the bedding next to her.
She was too cute. It was moments like this when Harry questioned his sanity for leaving her. His heart fluttered when she cuddled into his side, breathing onto his neck. He knew she wasn’t completely sober yet, but that didn’t stop him from enjoying her presence and touch.
***
Harry woke up early to his alarm, Y/n still sleeping peacefully on her stomach. He just sat and watched her for a while with a loving gaze. Bed missed waking up to her so much, the sun shining on her skin made him smile and run his hands along the warm surface. This is what he’d spoken to Ruth about wanting. This closeness, and not with just anyone. With her. And now he had her. He knew she just needed someone to comfort her after the fire, and that she was drunk last night, but he couldn’t help but imagine her finally agreeing to have dinner together. And not to distract her, like a date date. Not as friends, as people who were seeing each other.
He didn’t need to go into work right? He didn’t have any meetings or anything. He could deal with his employee’s fuck ups tomorrow. It was the right thing to do to stay home and take care of Y/n. Maybe he could bake with her. Help her figure out what her next move should be. Since the cafe was unfortunately long gone.
He thought about what he had worked on with Ruth. Gaining control over his emotions. To try not to become too attached to Y/n. He’d texted her last night actually, they spoke for about an hour or so. She had told him it was ok for him to comfort her during this time, but not allow himself to become attached. Because if she no longer wanted to be in contact with him at some point, or if she wanted to stay friends, he’d end up back at square one. And Ruth really didn’t want to see the quiet, cold hearted man she met 4 years ago. He was still closed off and angry, but he’d made so much progress, and it'd break her heart for all that to be gone. She cares for him like a son, he had a big heart of gold, but regret and anger made him build up a wall, and close off his kind soul.
But at that moment, all that advice sounded like complete bullshit to Harry.
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ritartistside · 1 year
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15 questions
So I was taged by the wonderful @duckland
I’m so sorry I’m doing this so many days after the tag, exams have been crazy and it's still not over for me :(
1-Nickname: I don’t really have any. My family used to call me Dorcica as a child which is a mash up of my second name (don't really use it, I use Rita) and the word cat in my language.
2-Sign: Virgo
3-Height: 1,58 m
4-Last thing I googled: the meaning of asthenic and aneurysm in Marfan syndrome
5-Song stuck in my head: Livin’ La Vida Loca, My type
6-Followers: 6 lol
7-Amount of sleep: 6 hours (used to be less, thankfully I recently got treatment)
8-Dream job: medical doctor, working with burn victims
9-Wearing: I dress very trad feminie I rarely wear pants and used to wear high heels a lot but now I can’t in the hospital and the mortuary. I guess sometimes I still dress casual goth/pastel goth but not often
10-Movies/Books that summerise you: interesting question, honestly idk maybe LOTR if you squint at it very hard and take it as an allegory.
11-Favourite song: My type from Saint Motel and Miss the Misery from Halestorm
12-Favourite instrument: Saxophone and recorder (could play them as a child too but I probably forgot how to now plus I haven’t  touched a sax for like 5+ years, still have my trusty recorder tho)
13-Aesthetic: high femme, goth and pastel goth
14-Favourite author: Neil Gaiman, Steven Saylor
15-Random fun fact: not so fun, but interesting, I put people into those black bodybags that you can see in movies during mandatory hospital work I had to do during the peak of covid. I was wearing those white bodysuits and big plastic masks too and worked as a nurse. Plus I’ve done autopsy of the liver, lungs and kidneys in Pathology class.
Again thank you so much for the love and friendship. We don’t talk much, but I always appreciate seeing you on my dash <3
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riverdale-retread · 2 years
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Riverdale S6 Ep 22 (#117:  Night of the Comet)
Here we are at the Season 6 Finale which is fittingly also the apocalypse!
Jughead is at “ground zero of an extinction level event” looking irritated and nothing else. This is highly entertaining to me.  He died in a demon plague while his other dimension self looked on in interest (probably thinking- Ooh more material for the STORY!), was perfectly content in heaven and then got yakked out of it by Cheryl Blossom (whom he does not like).  So his casual, I Am So Tired That I am Bored By My Exhaustion approach to this latest disaster in his disaster-filled life just fits.
So everyone is assembled in Archie’s house.  Shout out to Cheryl and Heather for sitting with the exact same leg crossed pose. Tabitha looks very much like a Mater Dolorosa statuary.  
Toni and Fangs, still looking like Minnie and Micky Mouse, report that the Serpents have been testing the weird magic dome into which they are sealed (Simpsons Did It First).  Betty says a version of fandom commentary that has been making the rounds - that Riverdale  the town itself is a character, whose sole motivation is to hoard all these people and keep them trapped within itself.  Betty describes it as “a roach motel” because you can come in, but you can’t leave. 
Veronica asks Jughead about his portal powers, but even those are limited by Percival’s magic dome.  Archie asks Tabitha about her time travel, and Tabitha says the comet is their inevitable future no matter what. Kevin is confused about why someone else isn’t doing something, which is a very Kevin thing to ask, to which Heather patiently explains that Percival’s spell was very well wrought because he even took care of what the outside world thinks is happening with the comet.   Moose, who was called in to help Kevin with Kevin’s issues, is now also doomed to die but he is being a perfect saint and not spending his time screaming at Kevin about how he’s ruined his life.
Archie, being invulnerable, and Not Baby Anthony, being immortal, are the only two who are going to survive being hammered directly by a comet.  Toni mentions that she’s suggested to Archie that he take Not Baby Anthony into the Bunker when the comet hits. 
Archie is determined to not be beaten by Percival.  He’s so fascinating and kind of horrible.  Archie is so focused on WINNING that even the prospect of everyone he knows being obliterated doesn’t affect his emotions.  Heather and Cheryl offer to do consult other, more knowledgeable arcane powers to see what can be done, but Cheryl doesn’t believe this will work.  She’s the only one who has the honest reaction - scoffing - when Archie says he’s going to try to find a way to dig their way underground out of Riverdale. 
Alice and her two daughters are in their house having a lovely heart to heart. I’m sorry but I hate it.  Alice is making her daughters parent her.  Betty is being a total angel here.  She looks at her weepy useless mother who has been such an agent of pain and terror in her life with kindness and understanding.  Betty Cooper gives her mother the absolution and healing that woman does not deserve.  By the way, this has been bugging me - did Polly ever show herself to Juniper?? Does Juniper know her brother and mom AND DAD that she never met and her grandgrandma are all alive again? Where is Juniper?
At the Babylonium,  apparently all or most is forgiven between Reggie and Veronica.  She’s head honcho and he’s her henchman again. He says he saved the giant portrait of Hiram from the fire at Percival’s.  When confronted with it, Veronica’s very kind reaction is to smile about it, instead of chucking a shoe at him. She even thanks Reggie.  The show misses Hiram, I guess, and maybe the Hiram actor has more power than the Jason actor, so he’s saved the indignity of a doll bearing his likeness being hauled around on set.
Next morning at the Diner, Jughead and Tabitha are sharing a basket of fries. This is how you know Jabitha has to be endgame. Jughead to my knowledge has never, ever shared a plate of food. Taken things off of other people’s plates, yes.  SHARED?  No.  Jughead is chipper about being ‘taken out’ by a ‘magic asteroid.’  He was destined to die anyway so he is trying to find the good in having the end not be ‘banal.’  He also says that he’s accomplished almost everything on his bucket list, but before Tabitha can ask what that is, in comes trouble.
Alexandra Cabot wearing an outfit that takes body consciousness to a whole ‘nother level has a magically easy sounding (!) way for Tabitha to realize her long held dream of making Pop’s a franchise (that she alluded to when Veronica was in doldrums about her stalled life).  Jughead prevents Tabitha from both outright refusing and spilling the beans about how they literally only have like, 12 hours left until the comet hits.   Alexandra is going to be in town for another 10 hrs, which means she will die with them if nothing else changes.
Then we cut to Fangs giving a very unsanitary looking Serpent tattoo to the Not Baby Anthony at the Whyte Whyrm as Toni looks on. He hasn’t had to do the gauntlet, or the thing about shouting the rules at Tall Boy or getting bit by a defanged snake (WHY DID THEY MAKE JUGHEAD DO ANY OF THIS)  so Anthony sounds uncertain when he asks if he’s really a Serpent now.  His parents (who both look younger and less physically mature than he does) tell him he’s the hereditary Serpent King because of what they are.  Everyone in this creepy little family is teary eyed, the show is playing sad music over it but none of this is earned and I want the comet to kill these three off specifically, please.
Heather and Cheryl summon Abigail Blossom, currently trapped in a doll trapped in a cabinet.  The sheer number of candles that are lit can only be explained by the phoenix powers Cheryl has because I think even with two people working fast with a mechanical lighter, the first-lit candle would burnout by the time the final candle is lit.  In any case, Abigail has a solution to the comet that Cheryl (and the Riverdale writers?) finds “Basic, but also Genius.”  You’re a fire starter so just MELT it, because it’s ice.  As to whether she can undo the binding spell trapping them all in Riverdale, Abigail says that she needs something more than freedom from the doll. 
Cheryl goes to collect the “underworlders” trying to dig their way out of town using the mining tunnels and everyone is gathered now at Thornhill.   “I may have divined a pathway through our little conundrum.”  I love Cheryl’s syntax. 
I am horrified and intrigued by the gloves that are attached to Chery’s long sleeved turtleneck.  It looks so extra, which is very Cheryl. It also makes me wonder if she finally cut those nails, being a lesbian and all.   Cheryl says that she needs something special from Toni later, to which she gets a very reluctant response.
And then we learn that essentially, Cheryl is a species of god. She’s the one that is keeping all the resurrected Riverdalers alive. It’s HER POWERS that is keeping their bodies on earth rather than in heaven.  So when she uses all her phoenix powers to melt the comet, one or more or all of them might also throw off the mortal coil once more. (She doesn’t say this exactly but she should’ve.)
When Cheryl and Toni have their tete-a-tete in the sitting room, we are treated to the view of an overhang wall full of very weird art that I am hopeful a more hawk-eyed, technologically competent and knowledgeable fan will one day explain to me.  One of the paintings is what looks like a giant black crow with a crown menacing a little redhead boy and girl pair.  Cheryl explains to an increasingly speechless Toni that she and Toni are going to be sex vessels for Abigail and Thomasina whlie Heather will keep each of their souls safe in a jar.  Cheryl wants to vomit every time she has to say the name FANGS (girl, SAME) but does point out this interesting technicality that it’s ‘not cheating’ if their souls are not in the bodies that are engaging in the sex.  This is a metaphysical version of the bullshit “I was drunk and didn’t know what I was doing” argument but okay sure.
Archie comes home all dusty from digging in the tunnels all morning, followed by being told that he was being kept alive by Cheryl’s God Powers to discover even worse news: Mary Andrews has stopped by unannounced for a visit.   Over pizza and beer, Mary says one of the reasons she came to visit was to tell her son she’s getting a divorce from her wife. It sounds amicable enough. I wouldn’t want to spend the rest of my life with Mary Andrews either.  When Mary says that life is precious and so not to be wasted, Archie looks thoughtful.
Veronica’s absinthe absolutely looks poisonous, don’t you think?  She’s talking to her dad’s portrait while day drinking, which is an interesting way to spend your last day on earth.  Veronica is still quite Catholic.  After expressing a sensible sentiment - she hopes she and her father that she murdered don’t cross paths in the afterlife - she feels guilty, so she gives the portrait a kiss.   Veronica’s kiss is so toxic it literally burns an entire layer of paint with a sizzle.  Damn.   Then Archie fucking shows up and in his customarily brutal manner he asks Veronica to give (?) or sell (?) him a diamond ring with which he’s going to propose to Betty.
How can people like Archie when he does this sort of thing to people?  Veronica looks miserable as soon as her back is turned, poor thing.  The thing is, half of this situation is on her, isn’t it?  Why not just say what she’s feeling - if not a full on confession, then pointing out that asking your ex girlfriend that you cheated on back in the day who has had to bury two male partners AND CAN NEVER KISS ANYONE EVER AGAIN for a WEDDING RING when she’s obviously alone one day of the apocalypse is something that is a terrible thing to do and send him packing? Why pretend you’re fine when you’re not? (Uh, self reveal.)
Thankfully the show is merciful and treats me with Jabitha cuteness immediately after.  In the bright light of the diner as they clear a table, Jughead is trying to talk Tabitha into accepting the franchise offer, come hell or high water. Or comet.  Tabitha isn’t sure.  Then she says he’s trying to be Jack to her Rose and Jughead - of course- says he has never seen Titanic because he’s partial to “early James Cameron.”  Such growth he has had, our boy, no?  He doesn’t say it’s because he’s a weird weirdo! He also just says ‘early James Cameron’ rather than drop words like oeuvre.  Tabitha’s favorite movie of all time is the Titanic. They HAVE to watch it, she says, and he looks so cute and adoring as he mimics her tone - “We *have* to?”  
At Thornhill the ceremony is afoot!  Souls look like glowing jellyfish.  Heather really does trap them in a big jar.  Thomasina and Cheryl get it on, complete with Kissing With Tongue!  I don’t like Toni but I really do like the idea of someone like Thomasina even if she feels historically kind of impossible.  They look very happy and very beautiful together.  Heather, though, is having qualms about this.
Archie’s campaign to be my least liked character continues to succeed.  After springing on the rightly alarmed Betty that Mary Andrews is continuing her path as Terrible Parent by suddenly appearing right this day to unload her issues on to her son, he suddenly proposes.  Way to set the mood, dude.  
Betty is startled, but apparently what Betty wants to be on her last day on earth is kind to everyone she loves. So she is that for Archie - understanding, helpful, hopeful, loving.  Betty tries to relieve Archie of his Rescuing Hero complex.  She also straight out refuses to marry him.  Whatever Betty wants to do with life, it’s not being married to Archie.  That’s interesting.  Because she doesn’t say I Will Marry You When Everything Works Out (If It Does).  What she says is, in the nicest way possible, This is a Shitty Time to Be Asking This You Piece of Shit. It comes out like this: “Ask me again after Cheryl melts that comet, and you and me and everyone  else survives. Or we find another way out from Riverdale.”   I mean, for Archie and Betty to get married all that really is required is for the two of them to survive, you know?  But she is predicating it on everyone ELSE surviving.
In short, she is saying no, and forever.
Archie refuses to take the hint. Or maybe he’s just too dumb to pick up on an bald statement.  He runs out of there saying, in a terrifying way, “I’m going to break through that barrier so I can marry you, Betty Cooper.”  His eyes are blank, his face is empty and his voice is devoid of hope or romance or even much emotion. Archie has just decided this is what the next step is, so he’s committed to it, without joy.  
Cheryl and Toni wake up in bed post coitus in underwear that’s very different from what Thomasina and Cheryl were wearing.  Cheryl thanks Toni, and Toni says it was just to save the town.  Cheryl has yearnings.
When Cheryl checks in with Abigail, Abigail is very happy, and shows her a pile of knots which have to be untied to undo the spell. 
Drake has called Betty!   She has wonderful news - or so she thinks.  Director Wilcox wants the two of them - Drake and Cooper - to HEAD UP the Serial Killer division.  Betty refuses this offer too.  Drake insightfully asks if this is about Archie or because of her bad experiences with TBK.   Betty says it’s neither.  She is ‘moving to the light.’  She doesn’t want to be a hunter of hunters anymore.  That’s very… interesting.  Did Betty meet her DNA quota of killings or something? Is that why she doesn’t feel drawn to crime solving anymore?
Reggie and Veronica are making nice.  Poor Reggie.  His pattern of always being a step behind Archie after Archie has done his damage to Veronica continues into this last day on planet Earth.  Veronica is so sick of everything that she’s decided to work on friendship skills, i.e. being friends with exes like a good lesbian, ‘dating a lot’ without getting into relationships which has been her pattern her whole life, and focus on her absinthe business (much like her first true love, the Rum business).  She hands the casino over to Reggie, and offers to keep him company during the apocalypse.  As friends.  He agrees.  Reggie is so cute though.  He still finds Veronica hot and would so want to rekindle any sort of sexual connection, even if he is officially fine with being friendzoned by her.   His shifty eyes over his teacup as he covers up his disappointment at being rejected was marvelous.
Even nicer, we are treated to Jughead getting weepy over Titanic.  Oh they are so adorable, with their his n hers cozy blankets, and a well established movie watching set up (her head in his lap, all snuggled up).  He loved it, which is good, but then Tabitha says to Cole Sprouse, who has done at least one photoshoot where he was styled specifically to highlight his physical resemblance to Leo Di Caprio that the character Jughead Jones is “cuter than Leo” and it’s kind of a lot and I’m both giggly and embarrassed for everyone at the same time. 
Jughead says that he can’t die OR live with himself if Tabitha doesn’t make a grab for her big opportunity to take Pop’s into the franchise business, so  without saying it in so many words, she agrees that she’ll try.  
As a reward and a gift to them both, Tabitha takes Jughead with her on a time traveler’s epic date where she takes him through a timeline in which they both live into old age, happily married to each other, with a son that takes after him and a daughter that takes after her.  Pop’s stays in business forever, they run it together into their old age, and I guess they just grow old in Riverdale in this blameless lovely life.  They’re both crying at the end of the minute long experience.  I love them.  They kiss tenderly.
Meanwhile, Archie is bashing a barrier with a hammer while his mom comes to yell at him.  Which is about the right speed for Archie.  Betty told on him to his mom.  This is very Archie, to be unable to accept or give tenderness to anyone OR THE TRUTH TO HIS MOM until he’s done a spot of useless violence.  Mary calls it straight - “It’s not ok to be out here hiding from the world.”
Mary thinks that Fred would’ve fought to the end too, but adds that Fred (because he was smarter than Archie) would’ve come home to spend time with his beloved.
Veronica is talking to her Daddy’s ruined portrait and drinking alone.  Her nonstop alcohol consumption concerns me because I’m a prissy puritan. But I am wrong and she is right apparently because Veronica sudden has a brainwave.  She’s a dialysis machine (says Drake)!  She stayed in Riverdale for a reason (says Tabitha)!   She’s gonna go “save her friends!”
At the Diner, under Pop’s and Jughead’s proud gaze, Tabitha signs the documents to take Pop’s national.  Alexandra is thrilled, but when she says they start ‘tomorrow’ all the Riverdalers simultaneously get sad . She asks what’s wrong, but before they can drop the bad news on her head belatedly like a ton of bricks they are all summoned to Veronica’s apartment.
Heather is such a good soul (and also has no choice at this point I guess, but no matter) because she is helping Cheryl untie all the knots to undo the magic holding the town hostage.  With much sadness (for me especially, because I like Heather a lot, and I love how she calms Cheryl the fuck down at all times), Heather says that she’s going to be leaving after it’s all over.   She says Toni and Cheryl are “Forever Soulmates.”  Heather “saw” something and says Choni are “written in the stars.”   In the middle of this sad moment, their phones chime, summoning them. 
Betty has Archie in bed with her, which is the only place he really listens to women at all.  Betty’s egotism can’t help but come through though, when she tries to reassure Archie that his long dead father (the one he betrayed and hurt all the time) would be proud of him.  Fred would be super proud of Archie, according to Betty, because he “supported me, comforted me, loved me unconditionally.”   I’d rather think that Fred who wanted his son to get out to the big world away from Riverdale by earning a football scholarship to university wanted something different from his son than being a good man to just one woman but sure. OK.    
Archie FINALLY takes back his fail proposal, promising not to pressure her ever again.  Betty for her part says that what she wants is to marry Archie after all, and he accepts her proposal.  This is SO MUCH NICER than how Archie did it.   They too are summoned by Veronica.
Veronica has a plan!   There’s a way to ‘augment Chery’s phoenix energies so no one has to die,’ she says. She’s going to absorb everyone’s powers to give them to Cheryl.  Poison = Strength = Superpowers are all the same, according to Veronica and Riverdale.    Powers combine!   She says she needs to share blood, “wound to wound, blood to blood.”   She even has Percival dagger to stab Archie with (she thought this through).   Does this mean the general concern about AIDS has died for good?   I remember reading materials for a research paper once where a scientist at the height of the AIDS crisis, which is when they figured out that straight people could get and give AIDS to each other (before then it wasn’t treated like a worldwide crisis, yay straight people!), that children would never again be doing thumb-pricked blood oaths.   Well we’re doing them again!
Cheryl refuses to be cut for any reason whatsoever (she must have keloid tendencies like me) and Veronica has thought of that too! She will transfer the collective powers to Cheryl with a kiss.
I mean. 
I’ve said this several times before so I might as well repeat it.  VERONICA LODGE WILL ALWAYS CREATE A PARTY EVERY SEASON IN WHICH SHE INTERACTS SEXUALLY WITH A PRETTY GIRL. 
So we’re ticking that box in Season 6!  Yay!
The in-universe justification for these shenanigans is (a) it’s not queer baiting if it’s saving the world and (b) fire trumps poison (this must be rock paper scissors logic).
WHO are they queer baiting by the way?  Do they know they’re on a tv show?  Because nobody present wants Veronica to get together with Cheryl, or for Veronica to be gay. 
Jughead narration breaks in right as they’re all painfully cutting their palms to voice his worry that doing any of this might make it all go terribly badly.  Invulnerability, aura-vision, mind reading, portal opening, and time travel powers get absorbed by Veronica.
When Veronica approaches Cheryl for her kiss, Cheryl looks EXTREMELY excited.  I thought you said this was Queer Baiting, Cheryl!  Did she literally mean I’m Queer and You’re Baiting Me?  OH!  Maybe she did!   The way Cheryl smiles delightedly into the kiss confirms my suspicions.  As I knew she must be, Veronica is a wonderful kisser. Cheryl looks high. 
THEN THE BEST TURN HAPPENS.
Betty, who has also kissed Veronica (and in a different world and time also Cheryl but not in this universe), asks if it worked.
Veronica thought of this too. She points a gun at Cheryl, to everyone’s alarm. (Jughead the most).  Cheryl can see her ‘threatening’ aura!  Then Veronica, who apparently is a crack shot, shoots Cheryl right above her right breast.  The bullet didn’t penetrate!   Jughead’s the MOST REASONABLE PERSON:  “Veronica is nuts! What if that hadn’t worked!!??”  
Tabitha and Archie think about themselves - “I should’ve stayed in Chicago!” and “I guess that means I’m not [invulnerable].”
I love Cheryl Goddess so much. She opens a big portal to go confront the comet, and her exit line is TOODLES.  Cheryl, please restart your cult!
Cheryl puts on a super hero costume change to confront the comet. She looks awesome.
And then, everything is ruined because we join the Fogarties in the Bunker and Toni starts singing at her scared son whose developmental status irritates the fuck out of me.  Why is he so childlike in his fully grown man self body that looks like he could be Toni’s mom?    They’ve lit too many candles.  
Wonderfully, we don’t have to spend a lot of time with them.  We jump to Jabitha’s apartment, where they sit as a family unit with Pop’s, having had their final diner meal, hands held together in prayer.  Tabitha has a wonderful singing voice. 
Barchie are in bed post-coitus.  They call each other primal animals, which is not wrong at all.  I hate this song though.
Veronica and Reggie are sad together, as friends.  Kevin and Moose are holding hands, Kevin asking if he could make Moose happy, through song.  Probably not Kevin. You suck.
And Cheryl is all alone, facing the terror by herself.  This is a burden.  So straight (ahem) dude Archie expended a huge amount of time and energy coming up with very upper-body dependant solutions, but two women are the solution:  Veronica with her strategic thinking and capacity to synthesize everyone’s abilities into a joint solution, and Cheryl with her lesbian courage and fortitude.   This tracks. 
Cheryl is apparently thinking about Toni, and Heather is shown alone in the Thornhill house. 
I really hate this song. It’s really very terrible and cheesy. JUST IN TIME, Nana Blossom, Heather and Britta (summoned for this purpose??) untie all the knots, to a gratifying WHOOSH sound as the dome is lifted.
So in the last few minutes some questions that I had are answered.
They show Polly with Dagwood AND Juniper. I guess they never told Juniper about her dad who was resurrected and then died again because he was killed by Aunt Cheryl.  And Polly never grieved the second death of Jason, maybe? I don’t know.  
The Andrews and the Coopers meet the apocalypse in the living room together.  Jughead closes his eyes to the incoming comet while turning his face up to it, while Tabitha glares at it directly.   Reggie and Veronica hold hands in her apartment, refusing to look at what’s coming.  Kevin and Tom Keller hold hands with Moose in the Champagne Suite (I think?)  to meditate their way through it.  Cheryl can fly while she fights the comet.  She’s frantic and weepy.
So what happened next?  Jughead asks, flat and unamused. 
We’re shown a goldfish in a bowl.  
The last minute plan that Veronica put together and executed together with Cheryl worked, he tells us, but things look weird.  
All of that did something “wholly unexpected and yet also utterly inevitable.”  Calling it inevitable is the Riverdale writing staff telling the audience to shut up, as though that’s ever worked. Nice try, Jughead.  
It’s looking very 1950s.  Archie puts on a letter jacket, looks into Betty’s window, and she’s weeping under a poster of James Dean while Alice comforts her. 
Jughead tells us they are in a “simpler time” before Jason Blossom’s murder, before the Black Hood. “Back to a truly innocent time.”
When Archie bounds down the stairs, the homosexual Mary Andrews is in pearls in a 1950s kitchen also weeping over the death of James Dean. For women like her the 1950s was absolutely not a truly innocent or simpler time. 
“Somehow the year is 1955.”  Jughead is in the Ye Olde Blue & Gold offices, wearing his crown-and-sweater costume from that 1950s style nightmare he had a while ago. He angrily operates a very old school typewriter.  
“And I’m the only one who remembers what our lives were like BC. Before the Comet.”
Jughead looks pissed.
Dun dun dun!  I’m very excited for what’s going to happen in S7, assuming this ending is supposed to be an indication of what comes next, like all their season finales have always been. 
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jojolovenotes · 2 years
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Shdidiidjdjdjs Part 1 Olivia but an adult
I swear I listen to that Saint Motel song ONE TIME and it gives me brain rot not that I’m complaining tho Lmao
Today we have:
Dio admiring her from afar
She got shipped off to some boarding school cause her mom didn’t think it was very lady-like for her to hang around Jonathan, Dio, Artemis, & Anna so when she returns it’s like that one scene in the book of life when Maria returns, fan, hair and all. Except this song is playing during the scene: https://open.spotify.com/track/0qUcpOOna3kkrwfqky85e1?si=MECpNTbjSryAR-Xizbo_Tw
Dio is just admiring her and how she’s grown except she still likes Artemis. But Artemis is kinda being forced into an arranged marriage(best thing my ex, now bestie and I ever did was merge our universe so we could use concepts that we couldn’t stand to not have) with this girl Isabella, and it’s just this big dramatic thing. Almost like Catherine in SIX except like half of them are Catherine……the final Catherine I mean, the blue one, Catherine Parr. And it’s like this whole “I Don’t Need Your Love” scene bc Olivia knows she is going to have to marry Dio, so Artemis gives her the parting gift of a rose. Roses symbolize a lot in this universe. For example, since Dio’s mother needed a name I chose Rose, one of Diana’s middle names is Rose, Artemis gives Olivia the rose, Olivia blames herself for not being able to save Rose and she wears the rose Artemis gave to her even after it’s wilted because she always cared about him. And her curse ties in bc if she didn’t trust Dio he would have been turned into stone but she did because they were childhood friends. Olivia is very new to seeing things. I tend to draw a lot of inspiration from Disney so I feel like this song fits: https://open.spotify.com/track/3eR3lWuvQqOzhTn91nbRCa?si=3IBjZjMnSNKgik1ghTuuoA so it’s like Olivia exploring and she’s asking Dio what everything is, because she’s always had to wear that blindfold, so when she finally takes it off, and gets her curse under control, she’s very curious. She’s very fond of nature because she was an apothecary and so she made medicines out of herbs and such. AH NAH NOT HEART OF STONE PLAYING RN THAT ONE IS SAD BUT IT FITS
When she married Dio she knew what she was getting into, but she did love him to some degree. So she knew that she’d always stay by his side even if it meant dying for him. When she thought he’d been defeated as a vampire she lost it and used the mask on herself. At first she didn’t know how to control herself but when she did learn she also learned how to tell people’s fates by simply looking at the stars so they’d all go to her. It’s almost like….you know the way Sothis sat on the throne just leaning with her hand resting(or was it one of the other green-haired goddesses……) that’s how Olivia was sitting when she told people their fates, which ties in with Soldier, Poet, King.
And now we have Iris playing so I’ll explain how that ties in.
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These specific lines that I happened to have conveniently in my camera roll refer to her curse. She can’t look at people unless she trusts them. Otherwise they turn into stone. It causes her to become very depressed, which is why the blindfold is so symbolic. It symbolizes her internal turmoil. How she had no freedom, so when she does finally take it off she’s free and happy. She has things under control. If she told people that she has a curse they’d have called her a witch considering the time period. She wants to be understood. And I can’t explain how little talks ties in bc I can’t explain how I see it in my head so we’re ending this right here. Sorry for the long rant. I just have a lot of thoughts on Olivia. 😅
Oh, wow. You definitely have plenty of thoughts to share... No worries, I understand feeling passionate about a ship or an OC so it’s cool! 
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been a while since i started following you, so i ask: what are your latest obsessions? you can answer with fandom or other things, whatever you like!
Hi my friend! I love this ask it’s so fun.
My current obsessions are Bridgerton, the song Heat Above by Greta Van Fleet, Mass Effect (still, so sorry everyone), New Girl as I’m rewatching it again for the fourth time, the band Saint Motel, and reading about the Mayan people!
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frogprincx · 3 years
Text
I can’t get the kanej bathroom scene out of my head, so here’s them trying again a year later.
Inej sat on his desk, watching her swinging legs. Kaz was watching her. Though the chaotic night had left her disheveled -- sweaty hair falling from her braid and sticking to her forehead, small cuts left from rough knives -- Kaz still thought she was the loveliest person he’d ever seen.
He tried to ignore the stabbing pain in his side and shoulder as he stripped himself of his shirt, grabbing bandages on his way to the bathroom sink. Kaz couldn’t stop the pained noise that sprang from his throat as he attempted to lift his wounded arm to bandage his equally wounded side.
Inej’s head sprang up from the adjacent room; the bathroom doorway showing only her. 
“Saints, Kaz,” she whispered.
“I’ve had worse.”
“Still-” she stops herself. He’s worked side-by-side with Inej to know when she’s holding something back -- as she is now. He knows that she wants to offer her help; he knows that she’s thinking of the same memory as he is: a year ago, Inej sitting in the motel bathroom, Kaz trying -- and failing -- to help her dress her wounds.
Kaz, forever stubborn, reaches to bandage his side again, shoulder screaming in pain. They lock eyes again, Inej silently waiting for his resignation.
He sighs, dropping his hands to his sides in defeat.
She raises her eyebrows in response, silently stating: Do you want my help or not?
“Can you help me?” he asks.
Inej’s expression stays the same.
Kaz sighs, “Please?”
He watches as she gracefully hops down from her perch on his desk, taking the bandages from his hand.
“I need to clean this,” she frames it as a question more than a statement: Can I touch you?
Kaz nods, his eyes following her steady, practiced movements around the bathroom. Some love-sick part of him realizes that above everything -- his trauma, her’s, the constant work they’ve put in to just be able to touch each other without gloves -- he misses her presence in his space.
She returns with further supplies, settling herself between his legs as he props himself against the bathroom counter.
Though the damp cloth is cold on his skin, the soft graze of her fingertips on his side feel like a wildfire. He tenses under her touch, causing her to look up at him with the same question as always: Do you want me to stop? Kaz shakes his head, a movement so small that if their breaths weren’t mingled together, Inej would’ve missed it.
He loses himself in her as she works -- the few golden strands of hair glowing like the rare Ketterdam sun; dark eyebrows furrowed above even darker eyes; bottom lip pulled between her teeth in concentration.
“You’re good at this,” he realizes aloud.
“I got good at patching the other girls up at the Menagerie,” her voice barely tops a whisper.
The spell is broken. Inej glances up at Kaz momentarily, as if to gauge his reaction. Kaz doesn’t pretend to know all that Inej went through at the pleasure house, but he was no stranger to the dangers presented in one. He’s sure some part of him knew that Inej had been abused at least once or twice while she was enslaved there -- but her honesty shocks him none-the-less. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
She shakes her head, zoning back in on her work. Soon, she moves from his side to his shoulder, the only sound between them their synchronous breathing.
Inej ties the final bandage, but doesn’t move away from his space. She stares intently at a space above his shoulder, right above his collarbone.
His mind flashes back -- Kaz, planting his lips on the same spot on Inej’s neck -- the year that’s passed seems like mere minutes.
Despite nearly everything inside him screaming not to, Kaz softly reaches for Inej’s hand -- both ungloved. 
She leans down -- hesitant, but sure -- lips meeting sweat-soaked skin, completing the unknown cycle the pair started a year ago. 
The moment is over before it even began -- but it happened. Kaz squeezes her hand, locking eyes, sharing the knowledge that despite everything, they’re getting better. They’re healing, for themselves and for each other. And maybe, one day, they can do more than this -- hold each other at night, when they wake from the nightmares that will forever plague them; embrace after months apart when Inej travels the seas; share each other like ‘normal’ couples do. 
But for now, this is enough.
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Destiel Trope Collection 2021 | Day 6: Firsts
24 fics under the cut
Sometimes Things Just Work Out | @vampamber
Rating: General Word Count: 1,027 Main Tags/Warnings: arranged marriage, angel Cas, royalty AU, mistaken identities Summary: Castiel is not looking forward to being forced to marry this Prince Dean person. The angel had never met him, never even laid eyes on him. For all he knew, the marriage would be miserable. Now, this human who's trying to hide in Castiel's room? It made Castiel wish that he wasn't going to be part of an arranged marriage, because he was really starting to like this green eyed stranger.
Through the Night | @smokerdean
Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,147 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel Out of the Empty, Soft Epilogue, First Times, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Sharing a Bed Summary: The motel is the same as thousands of others Dean has stayed in over the course of his life, but it's different, it's better, because he is here with Cas.
The Report Card | @fpwoper
Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1,211 Main Tags/Warnings: First Time, Crack Fic, Blow Jobs Summary: The morning after Dean and Cas first fool around, Dean finds a honest to god report card.
Dragon's Den | @fpwoper
Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,280 Main Tags/Warnings: First Date, Dragon!Cas Summary: Dean and Cas's first meeting is in a coffee shop they randomly chose. It's just... a little dragon heavy.
Taking one for Team Free Will | @fellshish
Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,560 Main Tags/Warnings: First kiss, pov dean winchester Summary: There’s a spell that requires an angel’s kiss to work. Dean takes one for the team.
Cannibal Queen | @one-more-offbeat-anthem
Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1,683 Main Tags/Warnings: creature!Castiel and creature!Dean, first time, porn with plot, virgin Castiel, mild gore Summary: What's a zombie to do when he finds out his (pretty hot) roommate and best friend is a vampire? In the case of Dean Winchester, the plan is to convince said vampire that they should team up and heist slaughterhouses. But when a run goes wrong, there are some unexpected consequences...
A Sign of Affection | @clarrisani
Rating: General Word Count: 2,159 Main Tags/Warnings: First Kiss, Fluff Summary: Castiel learns that different kisses mean different things.
9x06 coda : I'm sorry | @allofmystudentsrunaway
Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2,288 Main Tags/Warnings: Mutual Masturbation, Angst with a Happy Ending, AngstEmotional Hurt/Comfort, fanfic gap Summary: fan fic gap first time.
The blonde-haired witch and the little push | @chaoticdean
Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2,830 Main Tags/Warnings: Case Fic, Witches, Oblivious Castiel/Dean Winchester, Mutual Pining, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Sharing a Bed Summary: It’s not the first time Dean’s ever had to listen to someone referring to Castiel as “his boyfriend”, but it sure as hell is the first time he has to sit through a diner listening to a witch referring to Cas as his husband without even batting an eyelash, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Which would be fine if it didn’t cause actual shivers to run down his spine. (or the one where a friendly witch gives Dean the little push he needs)
Every Part of You | @the-communist-unicorn
Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,097 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, Panty Kink, Married Dean/Cas, Explicit Sex (but non-penetrative so there's no top or bottom), References to Homophobia Summary: Cas discovered his husband's secret completely by accident, but now that he knew, he wasn't just going to let Dean shove it back in that shoe box like it was something to be ashamed of. Every part of Dean was perfect and beautiful, and Cas might have just discovered a kinky side of himself too.
Whiskey and Wifi | @celipuff
Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,401 Main Tags/Warnings: Top!Castiel/Bottom!Dean, Dom Sub Undertones, Neighbors, Castiel Has A Panty Kink Summary: Cas may have lost a WiFi connection, but when he makes his way over to his neighbors house, he ends up gaining something much better.
At Last! | @chaoticdean
Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 3,617 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Friends to Lovers, Best Friends, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, Airports, First Kiss, 5+1 Things Summary: Five times Dean kept his mouth shut, and one time he didn’t.
OUR FIRST TIME | @cooloddball
Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,920 Main Tags/Warnings: Fluff and Smut Summary: Dean & Cas' first time together
Ghost Town Saints | @nothing-but-dreams
Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 4,010 Main Tags/Warnings: College, House Party, Beer Pong, Marijuana, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Friends to Lovers, Trans!Castiel, Supportive Dean, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: College is out for summer vacation, and that means Cas is back home with his family. Ever since he came out as trans, things have been tense, to say the least. After yet another argument with his parents, Cas needs to clear his head. Luckily, his best friend Dean is just a text away. Dean suggests the two of them escape reality for a bit and hit up a party being held at Ghost Town. As they drink and get high, they realize their feelings for each other run deeper than friendship.
It Started With Arousal | @vampamber
Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4,260 Main Tags/Warnings: ABO, angel Cas, alpha Cas, omega Dean, soul bonds, virgin Cas, porn with plot Summary: It was when Castiel violently slammed the demon into the wall mid-fight that he felt it. The bond he had with Dean ever since he pulled the omega out of Hell had been getting stronger lately, but this was the first time that Castiel truly experienced an emotion that wasn't his own. He had expected something like this to happen eventually, but there was no way he ever would have expected such a feeling at a time like this. Dean was… aroused? He spared a quick glance at the hunter, meeting green eyes but seeing nothing that might cause said arousal. When three more demons kicked through the door to enter the room and the fight, Castiel promptly forgot the confusing emotion. For the time being, at least.
Kiss Me | @peanutbutterjelly-pie
Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 4,285 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Compliant, First Kiss, Humor, Friends to Lovers Summary: Dean’s spur-of-the-moment ideas aren’t always the best, as lots of people are able to attest. And his last one really took the cake. Because now he’s unable to forget the taste of Castiel’s lips and he’s got no freaking clue how to deal with this.
Kiss at the Drive-in | @notfunnydean
Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4,380 Main Tags/Warnings: fluff and smut, getting together, drive-in cinema, semi-public sex, car sex, non-penetrative sex, handjobs, shy!Dean, dirty dancing, implied Bottom!Dean Summary: When Dirty Dancing airs in a Drive-in Cinema near the Bunker, Dean really wants to go with Castiel. Of course only because Castiel’s education about movies is still bad. Not like it’s a date. Sadly.
Swayze Always Gets A Pass | @kingdumbass
Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 4,766 Main Tags/Warnings: Bunker Fic, First Kiss, Drunk Dean and Cas Summary: After Dean and Cas get into an argument over a case, Dean tries to apologize by asking Cas to Netflix and chill. Featuring: Cas the movie critic, his drunk friend, Dean, and Dean's tired brother, Sam.
Y Tu Dean Tambien | @a-mandala-rose
Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 6,909 Main Tags/Warnings: High School AU, Geek Dean, Closeted Bi Dean, Pan/Possibly Demi Cas, Referenced Homo/Biphobia, Low/No Angst, Implied/Referenced Consensual Underage Non-Penetrative Sex, Nothing Explicit, Happy Ending Summary: Dean Winchester has a crush. A great, big, secret, gay crush. Okay, more like a great, big, secret, bisexual crush, if we’re being technical. Either way though, the relevant word here is secret, because Dean lives in Kansas, which isn’t exactly known for its thriving LGBT community. In fact, he’s pretty sure most of his neighbors don’t actually know what LGBT stands for and he’d be willing to bet that if asked, at least a solid 10% would think it’s a sandwich. So yeah, nobody knows that Dean’s spent the past six months crushing on Cas Novak, the sexy junior in his Spanish II class, and it’s damn well going to stay that way. “Hola, Señor Winchester,” murmurs a gravelly voice in Dean’s ear, straight out his dirtiest fantasies and close enough to raise the hairs on the back of his neck, as Dean suppresses a shiver. The smirk on the mouth housing that goddamn sinful voice tells him that while he may have resisted the full-body shudder, his red cheeks did not go unnoticed by the boy sliding fluidly into the desk directly behind him. “Hey, Cas.” Nobody knows about Dean’s crush except for Cas, that is. Cas definitely knows.
Game of Survival | @sorajinsei
Rating: Explicit Word Count: 8,317 Main Tags/Warnings: Suspense, Alternate UniverseThriller,Alternate Universe - Purge, Demonic Possession, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies Summary: Who's in the shadows? Who's ready to play? Are we the hunters? Or are we the prey? There's no surrender and there's no escape.
Talk Therapy | shara (AO3)
Rating: Explicit Word Count: 9,309 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Top Castiel, Bottom Dean Winchester, First Time Bottoming, Rimming, Communication Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, ALL the issues Summary: "Alright fine, you can put a finger in me," Dean says one night while watching Cas go down on him. Cas pops his mouth off Dean’s dick and stares at him. "I never said I wanted to put a finger in you," he says slowly, and then stops and tilts his head. "Do you want me to put a finger in you?" ~~~~ Dean comes to terms with this thing with Cas, and with himself.
Bind Me To You | @imbiowaresbitch
Rating: Explicit Word Count: 18,184 Main Tags/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Public Blow Jobs, Mild Kink, Condoms, Mutual Pining, Switching, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Anal Sex, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Light Bondage, One Night Stands, Strangers to Lovers, Teasing, Happy Ending, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Masturbation Summary: Dean and Cas meet in a one night stand, but lust, chance and eventually more bind them together.
Tempered Desires | @mattzerella-sticks
Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 20,013 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Pandemic, Baker Dean, Dean has ADHD, Recreational Drug Use, Meet Cute, First Date Summary: Dating, sex, and finding love were the farthest things on the minds of both Dean and Castiel. There were more important things to worry about - namely the pandemic that swept across the globe and changed everything. Navigating this new environment was hard enough without adding romance. But fate never intervenes when you expect. From first meetings to first dates, we'll see how Dean and Castiel's relationship blossoms despite the circumstances.
Put That On A T-Shirt | @celipuff
Rating: Explicit Word Count: 21,524 Main Tags/Warnings: Dean’s First Time With A Man, Blowjobs, Top!Dean/Bottom!Cas, Semi Public Sex Summary: Getting blindfolded and blown by a random dude his girlfriend knew didn’t exactly sound like an ideal Sunday for Dean, until it actually happened.
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compressoexpresso · 3 years
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~~✨🎧My Type🎧✨~~
Work had been exhausting that week, seeming to drain what little energy the department had at a steady pace. A huge mission had been going on, drug ring needing to be taken down and it was all hands on deck even for Haru meaning more dreaded papers piled haphazardly on his desk to deal with at a later date as the dusty blonde found himself having to trail along with the First Divisions. He got lucky though, landing the one Detective he had no qualms with, (Y/N). You were smart, funny and able to think on the fly unlike anybody else he ever met so it comes to no suprise that the male would purposefully try to get closer to you or learn more about you, a crush already growing within his chest.
Mission complete you were relieved more than anything, finally you could test, relax, and not have to deal with your slightly stuck up fellow detectives for a couple days as it was much easier to bury yourself in paperwork and cut off all outside contract. However luck wasnt on your side, a gentle hand to the upper arm keeping you from leaving as you glance back to meet a set of amethyst colored ones "Hoshino?" Realizing his mistake the Detective just let's go with a small apology "Sorry I was trying to talk with you before you left, the whole department is going out for drinks tonight you should join in" "since when were you the type for drinks?" "Since I'm exhausted and want to relax, anyway make sure you get there" Without another word the figure strode off past you, leaving you to stare at the Brunette's head, a deep sigh emeniting as now you have no choice but to go along.
Unbeknownst to you, Haru had the same situation, his friends blocking the door until the taller man relented, agreeing to go to the bar as he heard that a specific someone would be in attendance.
Walking into the bar any person is greeted with a cacophony of sounds, detectives chatting, drinking, listening to music and when they recognized someone often times greeted them. By the time Haru walked in you were already there, sitting by Ryo downing your alcohol of choice, (e/c) hues watching your friends and colleagues milling about, or at least you had until your eyes met with a familiar set of gold. Damn it he had to be here too, same outfit as always, messy hair and tired eyes but even then it didn't take away from how attractive this man was. For a brief moment you debate not drinking the rest are you were a lightweight but the though quickly dashes from your mind as Haru walks himself over with a grin "(L/N) didn't think you would be here" "could say the same to you Katou now get yourself soemthing to drink and sit down"
An hour passes and both of you definitely can feel a little buzsed, neither tipping the point to being drunk but the alcohol making you less reserved than normal while Haru starts to ramble a little about who knows what but soemthing catches your attention. A tune, familar but still not ringing the bell was floating around the room above the sounds of talking, some already getting up to dance as the first lines start.
"Oooh-ooh ooh ooh
Take a look around the room (Ahh)
Love comes wearing disguises (Uhh)
Break it down by shapes and sizes (Uhh)
I'm a man who's got very (Ahh) specific taste"
Haru recognised the theme immediately, humming along to the tune although gradually moving up to fully singing as he gives a grin, his eyes meeting yours
"You-you-you're just my type!
Oh, you got a pulse and you are breathing
You-you-you're just my type!
Oh, I think it's time that we get leaving
You-you-you're just my type!
Oooh-ooh, ooh-oooh (Uhh)"
A gentle yank of the arm and before you can begin to comprehend, the two of you have joined the others on the dance floor, just laughing and dancing, swaying along with the music as the tipsy blonde still gives you that adorably sweet grin you love seeing but just watching him sing along to the lyrics breathes a splash of pink into your cheeks.
"When there's lovin' in the air (Ahh)
Don't fight it, just keep breathin' (Uhh)
I can't help myself but stare (Ahh)
I'm a man who's got very (Ahh) specific taste"
Right before the chorus starts he gently pulls you closer, practically hugging you as you two dance, that pink steadily increasing until your face is so red that your dance partner almost looks concerned for the blink of an eye although it's swiftly forgotten with the chorus
"You-you-you're just my type!
Oh, you got a pulse and you are breathing
You-you-you're just my type!
Oh, I think it's time that we get leaving
You-you-you're just my type!
Oooh-ooh ooh-oooh"
Haru was sober enough to know what he was saying, silently thanking the liquid courage for the chance to even speak it but as he watches you, a fear of being rejected resides behind those eyes although it dissolves like sand as soon as you send him a playful grin in return and start dragging him from the bar "Where we going?" "Shhh!" With a purpose he watches the much shorter figure drag him around the darkening streets of Tokyo until they reach a small park. It's nothing special, a small grassy block with a playground for children, benches littering the area for couples or parents to sit on, one of which they both sit on to admire the colors painting the sky in vivid orange, peach, and red. All is silent for a moment until the tune picks back up, coming from his crush who very slowly threads his fingers with theirs and using their free hand to tilt his face towards them as they sing the final chorus
"Oooh-ooh ooh-oooh
You-you-you're just my type!
Oh, you got a pulse and you are breathing
You-you-you're just my type!
Oh, I think it's time that we get leaving
Ooooh-ooooh"
As the final words drop from their like he is left in silence for a few moments, mostly disbelief that you seemed to reciprocate the feelings he harbored. Finally he came back from his little state of shock, leaning closer until finally you pull him all the way down, kissing him with a grin and hand wrapped around his tie to keep him close even as he breaks away but there is no reason to fear him running. A deep chuckle and soft eyes are what meet your own as he moves back enough to gaze at you while you wink at him "I think you are just my type~"
+the song is My Type by Saint Motel+
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rizlowwritessortof · 2 years
Text
Meant To Be - Chapter 2
Dean and Jordan are each trying to escape their painful pasts. Their chance meeting and a dangerous encounter begins a relationship that may give them both a new start.
Pairing: Police Detective Dean Winchester/Jordan Taylor
Word Count: 2050
Warnings: Abusive relationship and related violence, nothing graphic.
Aesthetic by @editsbymichele on Instagram; Dividers by @firefly-graphics​
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Dean pulled on his jeans and shoved his feet into his running shoes, then grabbed his gun, clipping his badge onto his waistband before heading outside.
Jordan’s car was engulfed in flames, and the sound of one of the windows exploding from the heat made him jump. “Fucking hell,” he muttered, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of Darrel. He had to be close, watching, probably waiting for Jordan to come out. He heard sirens in the distance as he doubled back and went around behind the building.
He moved quickly to the other end of the structure, peering through the darkness for a sign of his prey, then moved across to the backyard of the houses that lined the east side of the block. He moved carefully, almost silent, from one yard to the next until he spotted Darrel watching the fire from behind a tree near the corner house. As he drew closer, he could hear the man mumbling, “Come on, Jordan, where the hell are you?”
Dean stepped up behind him, pressing the muzzle of his gun against the base of his skull. “She’s in her room, right where I told her to stay, dickbag.”
“Man, who the fuck are you?” Darrel blurted out in frustration as he raised his hands.
“Well, for one thing, I’m a cop. And the local boys are on the way, so let’s go meet ‘em.”
“All I wanted was for her to come out, so we could talk.”
Dean snorted and shoved the gun against Darrel’s head, urging him along. “Social skills are really not your strong suit, are they, Darrel?”
Dean marched his reluctant prisoner back to the motel parking lot, holding his badge high as the police cruiser pulled in, followed by the fire department. The officers got out, guns drawn, and Dean shoved the gun into the back of Darrel’s neck again. “Move.” He tossed his badge to one officer, who examined it and handed it back. “This guy is your arsonist. He also assaulted the woman who owns this car earlier today and tried to abduct her. Sorry, don’t have my cuffs on me, so if you’d do the honors...” He gave Darrel a push, filling the officers in on the details as they cuffed the prisoner. As he finished with his report, Jordan flew by him in a furious blur.
“You son of a bitch!” She shouted into Darrel’s face, then rocked back and punched him square in the face with everything she had. The man howled in pain, blood spurting from his nose, and Dean grabbed Jordan’s arm, pulling her away.
“Fuckin’ bitch broke my nose!” Darrel yelled, as an officer, struggling not to laugh, pressed a wad of tissues to his face. “I wanna press charges!”
“For what? I didn’t see anything. You guys see anything?” Dean asked, unable to smother the grin on his face.
“Nope. Didn’t see a thing,” the arresting officer answered with a wink at Jordan. They walked Darrel over to the rescue squad, letting them staunch the bleeding before shoving him into the back seat of the cruiser. With a nod in Dean’s direction, they backed out and headed for the police station.  
As soon as they pulled away, Jordan bent over, groaning in pain, her hand shoved between her knees. “FUCK. Nobody ever told me how much that would hurt!”
Dean tried not to laugh as he reached for her injured hand. “Let me see.” He gave her hand a quick once-over, then put an arm around her shoulders and steered her back towards the room. “Nothing’s broken, at least. Come on, Sugar Ray. Let’s get some ice on it.”
He walked her around the fire truck and down to his room, ushering her in and seating her in a chair before heading to the bathroom for a towel and to the fridge for ice. She accepted the ice pack from him with a sheepish ‘Thank you’ and applied it, wincing. “I know, that was stupid. But damn, it felt good. For a minute, anyway.”
Dean laughed softly. “Yeah, I bet it did. He had it comin’.”
“So...” she glanced up, watching him pour more whiskey into cups for them both. “You didn’t tell me you were a cop.”
“You didn’t tell me you were an MMA fighter, either,” he joked, and she smiled, blushing.
“I’m not. I’ve never hit anybody before in my life.”
“Yeah, I get that,” he chuckled. “But you did a fan-fucking-tastic job of it.” He sat down across from her, sliding one of the drinks over her way.
She laughed softly. “Thanks.”
“Anyway, yeah – I’m a detective. Violent Crimes Division in Kansas City.”
“Oh. That sounds – dark.”
He geared back a little with a nod, a grim smirk on his lips. “Yeah. Sometimes,” he replied, downing a swallow of his whiskey. “So what do you do? Or did you do?”
“I worked for a local attorney. Small town, small office. Hated to leave him, he was a good boss, I’ve worked for him for years. But I needed to get the hell out of Dodge, you know?” She stared into her cup for a moment. “I don’t know what I’ll do now. My plan was to drive to Kansas City, find a cheap motel to live in until I found a job and a place to live. Can’t really drive anywhere now, thanks to that douchebag.”
“Law office, huh?”
“Yeah. I know, it sounds thrilling. But I ran the office, and I loved it. Just… finding something in the city is gonna be a lot different than working for someone I knew my whole life.”
They chatted for a while, until Jordan was yawning more than she was talking, the adrenaline gone and her exhaustion kicking in. Dean laughed softly, and she gave him a shy, sheepish smile. “Well, it is, what – 2:30 AM?? Are you kidding me?”
“Yeah, pretty late. Listen, why don’t you just crawl into the other bed and get some shut-eye. Tomorrow morning the local PD wants you to come in and give your statement, and then that’s hopefully the last you have to deal with Darrel.”
“God, I hope you’re right. But I don’t want to impose on your space...”
“Not imposing. I offered, and I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want you to. You’re barely keeping your eyes open, and we’ll both be asleep as soon as we hit our pillows.”
“Ok, I won’t argue.” Jordan stood and stretched, then headed for the extra bed, pulling the bedding back and slipping between the sheets with a sigh. Dean stopped in the doorway to the bathroom, looking over his shoulder at her.
“I’m gonna grab a quick shower. See you in the morning, Xena.” He flashed a grin and went in,  laughing as a pillow flew towards him, deflected by the quickly closed door.
Jordan fell asleep still smiling.
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The next morning Dean was gone when she woke, squinting at the alarm clock next to the bed. It was only a little after 6 AM, but she dragged herself out of the warm cocoon of blankets and headed out the back door to her own room. After a shower and some clean clothes, she was feeling almost human, except for the nagging need for coffee. She was just figuring out the miniscule coffee maker in the kitchenette when a knock sounded at her front door. She peeked through the peephole, then smiled as she opened it to Dean, bearing two very large coffees.
“You are a saint,” she said gratefully as he handed her one of the steaming cups and set the other on the table.
“It’s been said,” he grinned, and she laughed. “I thought we’d have a primer, then head to Molly’s for some breakfast before we go down to the police station. If you want.”
“Oh, breakfast sounds amazing. I’ll bet Molly makes fantastic pancakes.”
“And bacon.” Dean’s eyes closed in pleasure at the thought. “Maybe a couple of eggs.”
“Ooooh, and hashbrowns!” She giggled, sipping at her coffee. “You’d think we didn’t stuff our faces with bacon cheeseburgers and fries last night.”
They took their time at Molly’s, eating their fill and lingering over their coffee, then drove to the police station late that morning. It took longer than Jordan had expected, but finally she was putting her signature to the documents and breathing a sigh of relief, hoping that chapter of her life was behind her at last.
Dean dropped her off at her room, and she spent the next couple of hours on the phone with her insurance company, grateful that they would pay for a tow company to haul her burned-out car to a junk yard. Buying a new vehicle would have to wait until she was back to work.
With that depressing thought, she flopped down on the bed and started sorting through the overwhelming List of Things To Do in her head. Get a rental car, find a cheap but hopefully safe hotel to stay in until she could afford an apartment, and, the biggie… FIND A JOB. In a new city, where she didn’t know her way around.
Her mind was still going in circles as she made more notes and chewed on her pencil, and her phone ringing made her jump. She saw Dean’s name and answered with a little laugh. “Hi, Dean.”
“You doing anything important right now?”
“Not really. Just trying to figure out what’s next for me. Haven’t been making much progress.”
“Well, I kinda wanted to talk to you about something. Can you come to my room? Sam’ll be showing up pretty soon, so I hate to leave.”
“Yeah, sure, I’ll be right over.”  
Dean was on his phone when he opened the door, and she walked in and took a seat at the table as he finished his conversation. “Okay, Sammy – see you in a while.” He grinned at her as he pulled out the chair across from her and plopped down.
“So, Dean, what’s up? There’s not a problem with the statement at the station or anything, is there?”
“No, nope, everything’s fine as far as I know. I just wanted to run something by you.”
She leaned back in her chair and looked at him, not sure what to expect. “Okay...”
“So, you’re headed to KC, right? That’s the plan?”
“Well, yeah – it was the plan before my car got torched. Now it’s getting more complicated.”
“Not really. It’s actually pretty simple. See, Sam and I are headed back there tomorrow morning. There’s no reason why you can’t just ride down with us.”
Jordan’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. Why not? We live there, anyway, we’re all headed to the same place. If you want. I’m not trying to push you or anything, but – we’d be more than happy to give you a ride.”
“Is – I mean, would your brother be okay with that?”
“Okay, second thing. So, I told Sam about your former job. See, he’s an attorney, and he just lost his legal assistant about three weeks ago. He hasn’t been able to find anybody else yet, and he’s dying to meet you.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“I’m serious.”
“Dean, I don’t know what to say… The only thing is, I’ll need to rent a car so I can look for a place to live temporarily until I have a steady paycheck.”
Dean grinned. “Third thing. Talked to Donna, my partner. She lives in a two-bedroom place, and she’s been talking about getting a roomie. Not that you’d have to commit to that, but she said you’d be welcome to stay with her until you got settled down there. Or stay on as her roommate if you like it there and decide you want to, whatever.” Jordan was staring at him with her mouth open, so he continued. “Look, I know I just dumped a whole load of stuff on you, you don’t have to answer this second, but the offer – well, offers – are on the table.”
She moved her gaze to the table top and blew out an overwhelmed breath. Tears were stinging at her eyes as she looked back up at him. “Dean Winchester, where have you been my whole life?”
Chapter 3
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1tsnoya · 4 years
Note
Can request a noya and kuroo (separate) hc/ scenario where smexy dancing in the kitchen leads to fem!reader basically crawling all over him in a heated make out sesh [can end up nsfw but not too detailed please if u do]
✧・ *: dancing with their s/o *: ✧・ ゚ headcanons
↦ pairings: yuu nishinoya x reader, tetsurō kuroo x reader
↦ warnings: suggestive (ish) + aged up characters
🌟taglist: @spriteandnicotine @fatheadthemango @tokobaby @virgosetter @tobiokvgeyama @bokutoscake04
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚:* :・゚✧*:・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
nishinoya
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→ yuu wanted to make you dinner one night
→ yeah...i bet ur just 😳 thinking about it rn
→ he ended making a um...a mess
→ he was barely halfway through the recipe and the sink was already full of dirty dishes
→ so you had to end up helping the poor boy
→ yuu: “nooo y/n! i’m fine. see!” and he showed you his hands that were dirty and had sauce all over them
→ you were just like.... how the fuck did the sauce get from inside the pan to all over his hands- it just DOESNT ADD UP
→ so you had to help him
→ the food was surprisingly good like...weirdly good?? maybe it was the love-
→ however...those dirty dishes were awaiting
→ so you helped wash them and noya dried them/put them away
→ it was a little quiet and if you know yuu, he doesnt like being quiet
→ so he ran to his room to grab his little red speaker and slid back into the kitchen blasting My Type by Saint Motel
→ “i’m a man who’s got very specific taste!”
→ while ur hands were still in the sink, washing a plate with the sponge, his warm hands reached to hold you
→ “you-you-you're just my type!”
→ he started playfully dancing around behind you, his soft hands still wrapped around you as you laughed
→ he stayed like that, singing more like talking in a hum to you, until the next song played...
→ latino noya latino noya latino noya LATINO-
→ sorry i love the latino/hispanic hc’s of hq!! boys :’)
→ tanaka and him had learned bachata a few years ago and still knew how to dance to it
→ so he twirled you away from the sink, your damp hands in his warm ones
→ tbh he moved effortlessly. his hips swayed perfectly with yours and your bodies were close together.
→ “inocente, en un juicio impotente”
→ he spun you around one more time and brought you close to his face, admiring how red your cheeks were
→ as the music continued playing in the background, he playfully nipped at your neck with his soft lips
→ he held your right hand as your left arm was hooked around him and bit down at the crook of your neck
→ after getting a reaction from you, he pulled back and flashed a smile at you ~ “te quiero!”
→ then he leaned back in to kiss you, however it was much deeper than before
kuroo
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→ this dork!!
→ he had asked to to help him study for an upcoming exam
→ even though he lowkey didn’t need help cough cough smartie pants he still wanted you to be there
→ so there the two of you were, sitting next to one another with connected earbuds
→ you flipped the page as he spun his pencil with his fingers and then the song changed
→ “ain’t another woman that can take your spot, my—”
→ “babeee. i love this song” he yanked your arm to get you to get up from the chair where your notes were
→ since you weren’t expecting it, you kind of yelped when he pulled you up from your chair
→ the atmosphere has completely shifted. it went from studying and listening to tetsu’s soft humming to him holding your hips close to him, facing you with that flirty ass smirk of his
→ getting more comfortable you hooked your arms around his neck
→ and like that, kuroo and you starting dancing with one another, his hot body up against yours as if you were at one of bokuto’s parties
→ you giggled a little, your cheeks warm from your and kuroo’s close contact, “tetsu! we have to finish studying”
→ “girl, you amaze me - ain’t gotta do nothing crazy! see, all i want you to do is be my love~”
→ he got close and whispered against your ear, “we’ll pass, don’t worry about it, doll” and he grinded against you
→ 🦋✨💞😺💞✨🦋 w-what?
→ his raspy and deep voice mumbled against your ear again...
→ “now if i wrote you a love note - and made you smile with every word i wrote...what would you do?”
→ eh. who needed to study anyway? this was much better
→ you rested your head against kuroo’s chest, your bodies still pretty close
→ he looked at you and smiled, planting a warm kiss on your head
→ you looked back at him and after a few seconds of staring into eachother’s eyes, he picked your chin up to kiss him
→ it transitioned from a soft and innocent kiss to a rough one in the blink of an eye
→ with the headphones still being shared between the two of you, he picked you up, lips still connected, and you wrapped your legs around his waist
→ and as the song continued, so did your kiss, only getting tougher and more passionate by the second
244 notes · View notes
justatiredghost · 3 years
Text
Living for the Moment Ch19
A series of glimpses at Klaus’ life if he’d met Dave in his mid 20s. His life isn’t magically transformed, love can’t fix either of them when they’re both homeless and in a bad place. They’re not even really ready for a relationship yet. But maybe a supportive friendship can set them on a better path, the two of them inspiring each other to take care of themselves. It’s going to be a long and bumpy ride, and the question is, when will they actually admit to themselves that they have feelings for each other? Read More AO3
-
The problem with coming to a sudden stop after burning himself up the way Klaus had been lately was the loss of adrenaline. That had really been the only thing keeping him going. Well, that and the drugs. Thankfully he still had some of those in his system so the ghosts were leaving him alone, because the inevitable crash wiped him out completely. He didn’t have the strength to keep his eyes open anymore let alone enough to hunt down another contact to resupply.
There were a lot of things Dave had said that he wanted to comment on, mostly to ask what was wrong with him, but he just couldn’t right now. None of this felt real. He’d never had someone so determined to stay in his life, and all he could do was wonder how long until he came to his senses. But that was a problem for future him. As most things were. Right now, Klaus just wanted to sleep.
Not that he got much before they were both jolted awake by a car backfiring. The early commuters were likely out, so they had to leave, but Klaus felt so much worse than he had before. The exhaustion, the aches and pains, the ugly bruise welling up on the side of his face where he’d been punched, and to top it all off, he was pretty sure he had a fever.
“Hey, you okay?” Dave asked when he noticed, and of course he had to be all sweet, rubbing his back and everything.
“Oh yeah, sure, all good here,” Klaus said, trying to suppress a violent shiver at the early morning wind icy cold now that Dave wasn’t pressed up against his side.
“Shit, I didn’t give you my cold, did I?”
“What can I say? Petty theft is one of my charms,” Klaus joked, because he didn’t like how worried he looked.
“I wish I could repay the favor and find a place for you to warm up and sleep it off, but— hang on, I have an idea. Come with me?”
Dave stood and offered his hand, and Klaus considered it. He thought about trying to ditch him again, or just refusing to move. But he was too tired to be stubborn and petty, so he decided it would be easier just to go along and he let himself get pulled to his feet.
Usually, Klaus would be more nosey about this, but when Dave left him outside the shitty motel, he just stood there and waited while he went inside to talk with someone. He surprised himself, honestly. He must be really bad off. At least Dave didn’t keep him waiting long.
“Wow, you really do look like shit,” Dave said when he returned, actually able to get a good look at him now that the early morning sun was starting to make its appearance.
“Still hot though, right?” Klaus said.
“Mmm, feverish and attractive,” Dave joked. “You might be overdoing it a little, might want to tone it down a bit.”
“Have you met me?” Klaus replied.
“Well,” Dave continued, unlocking one of the motel room doors on the first floor. “The good news is, a buddy here owes me a favor. She said we can have this room, but gotta be out of here by tomorrow evening.”
“She is a saint,” Klaus said, stumbling inside after him. “I am going to take a 6 hour long bath, so if you need to pee, you better do it now.”
“No, go ahead,” Dave laughed. “I’m actually going to step out for a bit. I have some other stuff I need to take care of. But I look forward to seeing what you look like all pruny.”
Klaus waved him off with an annoyed sound. He turned on the water as hot as it would go and was ready to soak up all that warmth and wash away the grime. By the time he finally climbed out of the bath, he didn’t feel so frozen. Sure, he still felt like shit, but it was better than nothing.
-
For once, Klaus slept like a rock, so he wasn’t all that surprised when he came to, desperate for a glass of water, to discover Dave was asleep in the other bed by the door. On the way back from the bathroom with a cup, he had the sudden impulse to crawl into Dave’s bed and join him, but tried to block that out and just go back to sleep.
The next time he woke up, it was to hear the shower running. Dave was no longer in the other bed. A midnight shower wasn’t all that strange, though, so he let himself fall back to sleep. But when he woke up again a little over an hour later and the shower was still going, Dave still missing, he started to get a little worried.
Well, more curious than worried. Yes, this definitely wasn’t worry. These types of places weren’t really known for having unlimited hot water and he actually wondered if Dave had been the one to ditch him this time. Curiosity getting the better of him, he stumbled out of bed, pausing at the bathroom door to knock.
“Dave? You alive in there?” he called, but didn’t get a response. “I’m coming in. I swear I’m not doing this just to check you out naked.”
As he slowly opened the door, he noticed that there wasn’t as much steam as he thought there would be. The mirror wasn’t even fogged up. When he turned to the tub, the curtain was pulled back just enough that he could see Dave sitting there, letting the water fall over him, still wearing boxers and a t-shirt. His arms were raised as if to protect his head, fingers digging into his hair.
“Dave,” Klaus called again, concerned now.
Dave flinched as soon as he spotted him, but at least he relaxed when he realized it was just Klaus. Then, he scrambled to turn the water off before sitting back, out of breath and just trying to regain his bearings.
“Hi,” Dave said guiltily. Then, he looked down at himself and sighed heavily, picking at the way his shirt stuck to him uncomfortably. “Aw, man. We have got to stop meeting like this.”
“Would it help if I also got in with my clothes on?” Klaus offered.
“No, no, it’s fine,” Dave sighed, not completely able to stop himself from smiling despite everything.
“Your loss,” Klaus said with a shrug. “I’m not exactly one to judge, I was in here for a criminally long time earlier, but typically I don’t think showers are supposed to last very long. I’m surprised you haven’t run out of hot water.”
“Ah,” Dave said, looking away. “I think I may have, actually.”
“May have what?”
“Run out of hot water,” Dave said, and as if to prove his point, a particularly violent shiver ran through him.
“What the hell?” Klaus said. “You should probably get out of there. Only one of us is allowed to be sick at a time, and I already called dibs.”
He passed Dave a towel as he clambered out of the tub. Then, he left him so he could have a little privacy to change while Klaus wandered around the room in search of any extra blankets stashed away. Dave was already back in his bed when he returned, so he unceremoniously dropped his spoils on top of him before selecting one to unravel sitting on the edge of the bed.
“I swear I don’t take all my showers clothed,” Dave said, forcing a chuckle as he followed suit, no doubt trying to lighten the mood.
“Hey, whatever does it for you,” Klaus shrugged, and Dave smacked him playfully with one of the folded blankets.
“I really am sorry about all this,” Dave groaned after they finished with their work, burrowing deeper into the pile of blankets, still shivering.
“What, hogging all the blankets? I guess I can forgive you.”
“Well, yeah, I guess there’s that now, too,” Dave chuckled. “But I more meant, just, all of this-- my little breakdown. It doesn’t happen as often as it used to, but I still get flashbacks and nightmares sometimes. Showers help, they can kinda ground me I guess, this one was just particularly bad, I guess.”
“Oh,” Klaus said dumbly, not really sure what to do with all that openness. Except run, but he’d already tried that and failed.
This all hit a little too close to home; the nightmares and the flashbacks, the whispered confessions in a moment of vulnerability. In Klaus’ experience, it never went well. He knew Dave was just like this, so much more open than Klaus could ever imagine being, but it still sent a chill through him.
As irrational as it was, he didn’t want Dave to learn the same way he had. At least Klaus didn’t have any plans to betray him, so he might as well encourage him to let it all out now.
“Do you, like, what to talk about it or something?” he said uncertainly. “I heard it’s supposed to help. I mean, I know that’s rich, coming from me of all people.”
“It’s nothing, it’s stupid,” Dave said quickly, waving a hand dismissively. “You’ll laugh at me.”
“Okay, well, now you have to tell me,” Klaus said, climbing onto the bed so he was laying on his stomach, leaning on his elbows, head in his hands.
“I, uh, went to talk to someone today,” Dave said slowly. “About getting support. For vets.”
“That’s good, right?” Klaus said, trying to be encouraging.
“I guess,” he said, eyes sliding to the side, avoiding Klaus’ gaze. “It’s just frustrating, it feels like admitting defeat. But I can’t even hold down a job, something’s gotta change.”
“That’s the spirit?” Klaus said uncertainly. It wasn’t like self-improvement was his specialty. But he could definitely understand the guilt that went with asking for help. Which is why he never did.
“Unfortunately, it’s bringing up a few too many memories. And, when I’m stressed, I have nightmares, so that doesn’t help,” Dave added lamely, trying to laugh a little.
“There, there,” Klaus said, sitting up so he could reach out and pat his shoulder. Taken by surprise, Dave burst out laughing and Klaus couldn’t help but grin, pleased he could still make him laugh, even when he was upset. “If it helps, wearing clothes in the shower is nowhere near the top 10 weirdest things I’ve found people doing in the bathroom,” Klaus said unhelpfully.
“Still,” Dave said, before changing the subject. “But enough about me, how are you feeling? Sorry again for giving you my cold.”
“I might learn to forgive you one day,” Klaus said dramatically, hand on his forehead.
“Hey,” Dave said. “I was thinking, and I realized that I just kinda made you come with me here, sorry about that, too.”
“Yes,” Klaus said, again playing it up. “How dare you force me to sleep in a proper bed for a change?”
“You know what I mean,” Dave said with a weak smile. But then his voice turned serious. “I know I was probably a bit too much before, probably creepy too, tracking you down like that. I just want you to know that, if you really don’t want to be here, I’d understand.”
“What’s the matter, starting to have second thoughts?” Klaus asked. “I am a handful. Being friends with me is gonna be a nightmare”
“Seriously,” Dave persisted. “How about we meet up in a few days and talk it out? I’ll have at least a few more answers once the VA get back to me. I know everything feels impossible right now, but being your friend is worth it, to me. But if all of this has put you off, then feel free to make a break for it. I’ll leave you alone.”
“Sure,” Klaus said distractedly.
Dave nodded and turned away, pulling the blankets up nearly over his head.
Klaus had never been told he was worth it before. He’s never been worth anything and he didn’t know how to feel about all of this. He thought he could feel something melting in his core, a warmth reaching him that he never expected to feel. But there was guilt, too. So much guilt.
How was this even happening? Dave was a pretty smart guy, but he just seemed to be ignoring all the warning signs. Maybe Klaus had tricked him into this somehow. He was very good at manipulating people. But, for some reason, Dave kept coming back, there was no denying that. He wanted to trust him, to believe in Dave even if he couldn’t believe in himself, but he knew how dangerous that was.
Klaus felt cold, again, when he went back to his own bed, moving automatically. Mostly he just felt numb, completely drained. And he was more lost than ever. Maybe he was just too sober, maybe drugs would wipe it all away and remind him who he was. Or, maybe it wouldn’t, and he’d wake up one day and hate himself, wondering what would have been.
Hating himself wasn’t anything new, but when he glanced over his shoulder to see Dave’s curly hair sticking out between blanket and pillow, he so desperately wanted to give hope a try.
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batarella · 3 years
Text
The Bullet: A Sequel to the Commander - Part 6 (Jason Todd x Reader)
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FUUUUCK THIS TOOK SO LONG AM SORRY BUT MAAAAN AM I PROUD OF THIS. YES THE FLOYD LAWTON I’M BASING ON IS WILL FUCKING SMITH
WORDS: 10333 WARNINGS: IMPRISONMENT, STARVATION, DEHYDRATION, TORTURE, FIREARMS
MASTERLIST
THE BULLET MASTERLIST
-----
“How do you plead?”
Soulless.
Mindless.
Lifeless.
She finally became that cold, callous machine. It took her this far just to get there.
It was just about as painless as your skin and nerve endings being burned off.
A soulless, mindless, lifeless muster of steel and hard parts.
To every pair of eyes that looked her way, she was no human being. She was no woman. She wasn’t someone who loved or was loved. She wasn’t someone’s cousin, or someone’s lover. And especially not someone who could have been a mother. Taking care of a child would be nothing short of abuse.
She wasn’t Y/N. She was Deadshot. An eerie mimic to her infamous uncle.
With the cuffs on her wrists, three guards on her side, unarmed in case she could possibly reach out for them, she heard the distant flickering of camera shots and murmurs. Her silence was already something to note, with the reporters eating up this story like worms on a cold carcass. But not once did she look up from her feet, at the steel clinging to her skin. Her attention didn’t leave the coarseness of the bright orange suit, sticking to her skin like sandpaper.
“Guilty.”
Her own trial. And she barely paid attention. She didn’t listen to just about anyone who went up to speak, at the lawyers, the judge, the jury with their whispers. She didn’t listen to their stories about her, whether or not they were true. And even if it were a lie, it wouldn’t matter much. It would only add up to the countless life sentences she’d expect to have in the end. It wouldn’t change anything about her situation. Waller was going to win, whatever happens.
For the murders of fifteen different people. Fifteen different cases. It was barely a fraction of what she’d done just by the past few months alone, not including the last one since she swore off killing. But they were the ones she chose to admit to. By herself. Her part of the deal with Waller.
A trial that was supposed to last the whole of the day, ended up being adjourned after barely an hour. Barely any witnesses, barely any proof to go against her. If she hadn’t admitted to anything, she wouldn’t have gotten more than one or two life sentences.
Now, she ended up with eight.
And after her eyelids shielded her away from more visions of the reality in front of her, she still managed to watch herself being taken away. With even more unarmed guards around her in a circle and two standing from a fair distance away, holding AKs and pistols strapped to their hips.
She saw herself being cuffed on her ankles, lead to an armored car like a circus animal. Reporters all around her, snapping pictures and holding out their microphones trying to get something out of her. And despite everything Waller had said, about her histories, her crimes, and all the horrible things she’s done, not everyone immediately went back to looking at her scornfully. At the far off crowd outside the courthouse, there were a group of girls, holding up a sign with hearts around her name. Her real name this time.
And they all cheered for her to be let go. They cried out to her, calling her a hero, calling her things she clearly wasn’t.
A cop pulled her head back to look in front of her, back crouched over, face covered with her hair. When she got to the car, she could no longer hear screams of neither hate nor support. She never felt so alone. So dead. Dead beneath her skin despite her heart still up in a beat. But it was clearly barely there. She was barely alive.
They took her to a plane. Then on another car. Then she arrived in Belle Reve.
Guards gave her looks. And she didn’t care to think about what went on in their clearly corrupted minds. She was taken to a brightly lit room, and despite it being so lit up, everything around her felt cold and dark. Her eyes, dropped down, she let the guard take her hand and press her inked fingers onto a piece of paper. Then they scanned her eyes, took her blood, took a piece of her hair.  
She was given a sign to hold, with her name on it and alias.
She stood in front of the wall with the height meter and faced the camera.
And on her face, she finally gave off a taste of the emotions running through the labyrinth in her mind. Her eyebrows arched down, her shoulders crouched over, her hair coming down to frame her face and her mouth arching down the most terrifying frown.
And her eyes. They looked black from the hooded darkness.
Anger. So much anger. For everything around her. For everything that had to happen.
They took the shot.
Just hours later, her mug shot had circulated all over Gotham, all over billboards and television screens, and almost everywhere on social media. Mixed criticisms. People wanting her to be let out. People praising her to be so brave. People saying she deserved what she got. People saying she should be put on death penalty.
Deadshot. Even when her name was everywhere. Even when the world had claimed her real name for their use. It wasn’t hers anymore.
She will, and always will be, Deadshot.
-----
Cops weren’t supposed to shove him into the back of a car like a dog being tied down and taken to the pound.
Cops weren’t supposed to throw his rights out the window out of fear over the woman who was supposedly above the law.
Cops weren’t supposed put their fear of losing their jobs in front of treating other people with basic human decency and have some sort of humanity left in them.
Cops weren’t supposed to use their job as an excuse to hurt other people. An excuse to let out their personal angers out on people who don’t deserve it.
But Jason Todd, a vigilante who had just been relieved out of god knows how many murder charges over the course of just two years, he shouldn’t expect the cops to be nice to him. As much as they were kind to Batman, as much as Commissioner Gordon was considered saint, there will always be a number of them that are just as bad as the criminals they detain.
They took him almost a hundred miles away from the city. Out into an unknown country side he had no idea where to go to. Not a motel, a gasoline station, or a diner in sight. He must have been in that car for four hours. He didn’t exactly know. Just that it was almost day time when they threw him out, his face meeting the dewy grass and the youthful orange sky. And the air around him felt nothing like the cold Gotham winds. It was fresh, light, healthy to take in. That’s when he realized just how far off he really was from home.
Jason was hungry, throat starting to feel a little dry. And his clothes will barely be enough to hold him up. He had two days. Maybe three days tops. By then he’ll have to make sure he’ll at least find a motel to stay in. He searched his pockets. His phone had fallen off. But he had his wallet.
He started walking to where the car came from. If they ran in circles to throw him off, he’ll probably die before he gets anywhere near the city by now. When the sun had fully risen, his skin now starting to feel the prickling of his sweat and the burn of the hot rays of light, he kept going. He kept pushing his legs forward, one in front of the other.
By sundown, he felt something in his stomach churn and eat him away from the inside. He shivered, despite the warmth. Then he decided to rest for just a few minutes to press back the tingling pain in his horribly dried up throat. He sat on the grass, weight on his hands, then he looked up at the sky, at the lack of clouds and immense brightness.
And he wasn’t upset about any of it. He wasn’t so worried about his life as he should be, dying of hunger, dying of thirst, feeling the heat burn his skin, or that he might never get home soon enough to actually live. He wasn’t so worried about what could happen to him in the cold dark or if he ever actually does find shelter, or help, or a single car that hadn’t passed by him so far.
He was sure he’d survive. He’d gone through worse. So much worse. And it was no different from being a child at crime alley not knowing if he was getting some food on his plate that day or not.
But it wasn’t even because of that why he wasn’t crying out in desperation and scavenging for any sort of help he could find.
He didn’t worry, because all he could ever think about was what could possibly be happening to Y/N in Belle Reve right that moment.
Jason never liked being in the unknown when it came to her, when she wasn’t by his side. When they were apart, as often as he could, he made sure to follow her around when she wasn’t expecting it, keep tabs on her almost every minute of the day, know where she was going and what she wanted to do. It had always been something in him to make sure the one person he loved more than anything else in the world was okay. Watch her from afar. Make sure she wasn’t hurt. That she wasn’t hurting herself. When she came back to him he swore he’d never lose her again. He swore to himself, and to her.
And now it was that all over again. And this time, he might never get to hold her for the rest of his life. This time, he might actually lose her for good. There was no way for him to follow her, to know what she was doing.
And it scared him to death. Scared him so much that it tore away every rational thinking in his head. That was most probably going to kill him. His lack of instinct. His lack of the will to keep going. When all he could think about was whether she was actually still alive and not have the bomb in her neck explo-
Jason pulled on his hair.
He already missed her so much…
He was in the middle of nowhere and he didn’t have so much as a picture of her to look at.
Wait.
His wallet.
He pulled it out.
An old photo of her. From her identification all the way back from the militia. From when she was recruited. He got her files and looked through them. Found her picture. Thought she was pretty. Had the files on his desk for months and after a while he ended up bringing it with him. Kept it in his wallet for two years and completely forgot about it. He thought he was a creep then, especially since they weren’t even so much as friends, but he remembered.
He got out his wallet and took it out from an enclosed pocket.
Hair kept back, cropped up to her collarbone and her face staring at him blankly. But her eyes still had that remnant of brightness and her mouth was so subtly curving up on one side.
Jason had his eyes on that little picture until he realized he had to keep going.
-----
Floyd’s old cell.
Waller and her sick little game.
She wasn’t placed with the other women in the prison with shared cells and barred gates. She was forced into the old cell of Floyd Lawton. Instead its walls of iron were three inches thick, solid, indestructible. There was but a little opening at eye’s length and another by the handle to bring in her food. It wasn’t as small as she thought it would be. But it smelled like five rats had died there this morning.
Deadshot took too long to get in and a baton swung against her back.
She fell to the floor and swore she heard her spine crack. For a moment her nerves stopped working, a buzzing numbness in slow surges, all except for the sharp pain at the base of her back.
“Get in there!” the guard screamed at her then kicked her further down. Crawling into the cell, she heard the gate slam shut and the whole room grow dim, save for a single orange light at the corner.
She didn’t do so much as stand up for a few hours. Her head was stuck to the ground, curled up to her stomach just to cling into some parts of her body that wasn’t already in pain. Everything in her hurt so much. There was a small cot at the corner and a punching bag at the other side. That had to be for Floyd. She didn’t want it. She hated that she wasn’t so much as given her own cell and had to settle for yet another of whatever scraps her uncle left behind. She got his guns. His suit. His fucking name. and now, she fucking laughed, she got his kills, his debt, his life sentences, his squad, his boss, his cell.
Everything she had. Everything she’s ever stood to live for. It had all been a remnant of who Floyd Lawton was. Never hers. She had no identity. Nothing good ever came out of anything he’s given her. Only a lifetime of running and money and taking lives. There had only ever been one good thing that came out of it.
And she had to lose him, too.
Deadshot had no idea if Jason was ever going to be okay. That he wasn’t going to eventually get himself killed without anyone holding him back. She couldn’t check on him anymore. She’ll have no idea if he even dies.
So she was just going to have to tell herself that he’ll be okay.
When the late afternoon came, she finally took to standing from the ground, on her knees, then she held herself up with the wall and hissed at how her bones cracked at the lack of movement. Everything hurt so much. She went to the cot, sat on its edge, and waited until the sun fell and rose again.
In the morning, the guards threw in a single burnt toast through the hole on the door. She didn’t touch it.
When the sun fell once more, she fell back against the wall and closed her eyes. She didn’t even get to sleep. No matter how much her eyelids started to hurt.
On the next day, they threw an apple into her cell. Deadshot took a bite, spat it out, then threw it out of the single window through the bars.
That night, she couldn’t bare not being able to sleep anymore. She tossed around in the cot, turning off all her other senses even when it only ended up amplifying the dead, yet raging thoughts.
She wanted a life. A good one. And finally it was within her grasps and it went away as quickly as it came. This wasn’t living. This was merely taking up space. This wasn’t a life anymore and it sucked when she knew there was nothing to look forward to.
Everything hurt to think about. Everything. Except when it often trailed off to Jason. Then her heart would swell, her wonderous thoughts halted. Thoughts of him. Thoughts of how he was. It was as calming as it was painful. And even if it stung, it brought back her humanity.
So she resorted to him. When the pain became too much. When her cell got too cold, or when the guards started to taunt her. When the cot got too uncomfortable or when her most silent screams haunted her at night.
She thought of him.
Is Jason okay? Is he eating? Is he even alive? Is he back in their apartment or out of Gotham or…
No. He wasn’t going to be okay.
Even if he was alive. Even if he was eating three times a day or if he was out of the state.
She knew. Because the moment she walked out of the apartment all those months ago, when she regrettably left the love of her life, she never stopped looking after him. He had no idea. He thought he was the one following her around. But out on patrols when Red Hood thought he was working alone, Deadshot was a few hundred yards away, looking out on her scope, watching and waiting for anything that might come out to take him down or anything he might not get to handle.
She never loved anyone like she loved him, and she often smiled at how they came to be, how it wasn’t supposed to be. No one would have thought it would work, but when it actually happened, it always made sense. To everyone.
Her Jason. Her sweet Jason.
She clutched at her chest.
She’ll have her thoughts of him to keep going. That somehow if she stayed alive, it was a step closer to getting to be with him again. A step closer than if she were dead.
And subjecting him to that kind of pain, when she knew he loved her, too, when he’s always made it clear, always made sure she knew he loved her.
Okay. Maybe it wasn’t too calming to think about him.
If anything, it only made the pain even worse.
------
Was that a house?
It looked like one.
It had a windmill, too.
And probably a barn.
Twenty-six hours of walking on the side of the road. Twenty-six hours of no food. No water. No shelter. Twenty-six hours, and only two cars have passed by him. Not one of them stopped.
Jason’s hair was sticking to his forehead now from the immense amount of sweat that had seeped out of his hairline, which was only going to lessen his days to live from three to just two or one. His throat. It was practically as course as the cement road.
But when he saw the house. A triangular roof. A windmill. A field right in front and what looked like a small barn by its side.
He only hoped it wasn’t a mirage.
Jason kept going, and his feet felt so much heavier to lug around like they were sacks of rice strapped to his knees. But he kept walking, further down until he started seeing the house’s porch that had a rocking chair inside it. He might have even seen a dog, running out of the house with its tail wagging and going back in through the doggy door.
Once he reached the front yard, he almost fell to his knees. The sun was scorching and he was probably going to come out of this with his skin almost burnt off of his flesh. If he ever does get out of this alive. But he could see from the screen door that there was someone inside. Human beings that might actually have the heart to help him. Jason swallowed what little fluids there was left in his desert of a mouth.
When he stepped into the porch, the dog came out once again, barking at him. It kept its stance outside the door and snarled whenever Jason tried to go anywhere near the front entrance.
“Who’s out there?!”
It was the voice of an old man. Not so old to be rickety and harsh, barely enough to be audible with his mouth probably struggling to keep up. He seemed to be up to his sixties. When he went up to the door, he stared at Jason through the screen.
“You need anything, boy?”
Jason tried to speak, but even that hurt to do. He tried to cough it out but it was like running his throat through a wrought iron bar.
“I’m… I need help…”
The old man stepped closer, peering in through the tiny holes of the netting. “You look like shit.”
“Can I… have some water?”
The dog stopped his barking, it started to take interest in his smell, on his shoes in particular. Its tail was up especially when his nose started smelling up his leg.
“How long have you been out here? The next city’s hours away by car.”
“A day. Probably. I’m not too sure.”
The old man unlocked the screen door and leaned against the archway. “You look like a dangerous man. You ain’t here to rob me, are ya?”
“No sir. Please. I just need some water.”
Jason saw his throat hitch, looking away out into the field for a short while before he eventually nodded. “Take a seat. Right there. I’ll get you a glass.”
The rocking chair. To him, it looked like the softest bed. He slumped down, tried so hard to keep his eyes open when all of him weighed a ton. He heaved his chest up in a slow, steady pace and made sure not to go into whatever light there might be that greets him.
Jason actually did take a bit of a nap when the door pushed open and he jolted in his seat. The man handed him a glass of cold water.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
The dog was beside him once again. This time, it started to pant, like it was smiling at him with his tail wagging. He placed the glass between his lips and savored every single drop of water like it was liquified gold running down his throat. It hurt. All the way down his stomach. But he’s never had anything so refreshing.
“Can't walk back out there. You’ll die.”
“I have to. I can't stay here.”
“Plenty of bodies found at the side of the road with their stomachs inside out. I’m telling you, kid. You won't survive out there.”
With the glass empty, he pressed it onto his head just to cool himself off.
“Here. I’ll get you another glass.”
Jason didn’t want to ask for another but the man had already grabbed the glass away from him and went back inside. When he came out, he brought a sandwich with him as well.
“You’re very kind. Thank you.”
“I said don’t mention it. Folks out here getting lost. Some I offer to help and they end up taking an old family heirloom.”
“I’m sorry.”
“But when they aren’t pieces of shit, it’s nice to know I’ve saved a few lives.”
“Yeah,” Jason bit into the sandwich. “I know the feel.”
“I don’t have a spare bed. But you can stay over at the barn.”
“I really can't stay. Someone needs me.”
“Don’t be fuckin’ stupid. No car’s about to pass by and give you a ride and you’ll die before you’ll even get to Kentucky.”
“Kentucky?! Where am I?!”
The old man burst out a hearty laugh.
“Where you from, kid?”
“Gotham City.”
He whistled a hiss. “You're a long way from home, young man.” Jason took his time to drink up the water. Just so the man wouldn’t feel the need to get him another one.
“You're at the interstate going to Tennessee. From the looks of it, whoever dropped you off took you somewhere between here and Birmingham.”
Fuck. So the cops, if they were even cops at this point, didn’t drive for four hours. They were driving for twelve.
Fuck Waller and her men.
“I should be going.”
“Stay over at the barn. Every three days two buses pass along this road. One for each way. It’s either that, or the vultures will have you for breakfast. That’s more time than you probably have surviving out there by yourself.”
Jason stared at his half-eaten sandwich and his glass of water.
Yeah. Think rationally. He could at least do that for himself. The heat definitely was getting to him.
When he finished his food, he stayed on that chair until the sky went dark.
-----
The food was so disgusting, it was inhumane.
Two days. And all Deadshot had eaten was a stale piece of bread, two bites out of a rotten apple, half a bowl of chili, and a greasy patty. Her stomach was going to give out any second now. And the hot porridge of something they just threw in was definitely going to make her puke if she even had anything in her stomach right then.
Every part of her body numb, she went up to the punching bag.
One.
Two.
Three.
Her fists didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would. Even when her bones were basically made of jelly by now. She hit the bag, balled up her tight fists.
Six.
Seven.
Eight. Nine. Ten.
Floyd. Floyd. Floyd.
It had been a while since he spoke to her.
But every second in this cell, she’s heard Floyd’s name being whispered amongst the guards more than anything else there was. Referring to her. To what she was. Floyd’s second. Floyd’s niece. Floyd’s protégé. Floyd’s heir.
Twenty-six. Twenty-seven. Twenty-eight.
She wasn’t Y/N. None of them cared enough about her real identity. Not even the news stations cared enough to flash her real name on the screen for more than a few seconds before calling her Deadshot for the rest of their report. She can't call herself Y/N in a place where all people would look at her for was to compare her to her uncle.
She heard voices. Outside. Guards.
Lots of them.
“OPEN THE GATES!”
“EVERYBODY, LINE UP FOR EXTRACTION.”
“LET’S GO. MOVE. MOVE.”
Huh.
So that was today.
They all had to be armed. And ready to take her down.
She can put up a bit of a fight. For the fun of it.
She turned away from the bag, fists secured up to her head. She saw their faces incoming. A large shield held by the front liner and about ten viciously armed guards trailing behind.
“Come on, motherfuckers!” Deadshot said.
“GO. GO.”
The door slid open.
The shield pushed her to the ground before she could even do so much as move out of the way. She jumped up, twisted the arm that grabbed onto her and kneed him to the pelvis, stomped on his thighs.
Guns started aiming at her.
“Don’t you dare shoot that gun!” Their leader screamed at them.
Not long after, her arms were being held back, another one grabbing her legs. She flailed and kicked about.
“I can walk, you assholes!”
“Can't take the chance.”
A chair. A wheelchair that looked more like a torture machine than anything else. She thrashed about and screamed just as they placed her to sit on it, strapping her arms and head in place so she could barely move at all.
She calmed. She didn’t struggle. She didn’t even ask where she was going. She knew exactly where she was headed.
When they took her to an impossibly dark hallway where at the end, she saw soldiers without armor waiting for her with a suitcase, she swallowed.
“This gonna hurt?” she asked.
“You won't feel a thing…”
She breathed. Breathed. Breathed. Slowly as the chair went closer to the station, she tried so much to hide her neck, but couldn’t with the straps.
And when she saw the size of the needle gun, she jumped up in her seat.
“It’s been six fuckin’ years since Floyd, you didn’t think to have a little upgrade in your equipment?”
“Shut up.”
They pressed the gun to her neck and shot the nanite explosive right past her flesh and muscle.
It was like surviving a bullet and staying awake the whole time it went into her skin. She screamed out in so much pain. It was a bullet. It was a bullet. It was a fucking bullet. She was shot. No. She was dying. Bleeding. She pulled on all the straps.
“Let me go!”
“Take her back to the cell.”
Every hair on her body was sticking up. She swore she felt it bleed. There was something running down her neck. Onto her orange suit. The whole time she was taken to her place, she wouldn’t stop screaming and crying out for the help that was never to come.
They took her back in, undid the straps.
Then she fell to the ground.
“Calm down,” the guard said. “Everybody move out!”
Once again, she was alone. In an old, dusty prison cell that wasn’t even hers to begin with.
At least she thought she was.
“You shouldn’t be so scared of bullets…”
No.
The nerve of this man.
He just had to show up now.
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“You have no one else to talk to.”
“That doesn’t mean I need you.”
Floyd was sitting on the edge of her little bed, crouched over to his knees. “Get up,” he said.
Something within her, so used to doing exactly as he told her to, it wouldn’t let her say no. She shut her eyes closed and crawled over to a wall so she can pull herself up. Her hand went over to her neck, at the same mark Floyd had on his.
“Don’t touch it.”
She leaned against the wall, arms over her chest.
“Even when you were scared of bullets coming right at you, you were never afraid of guns.”
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
“You love guns. You love what you do. Don’t pretend I put you up to a life you never wanted.”
“This?!” she pointed up around the cell. “This wasn’t what I wanted. Not by a long shot.”
“But you knew there was a risk. You took it anyway. You put yourself in more danger than you can handle because you wanted to.”
No. He fucking wasn’t going to use that against her.
“I cleared your debts. I’m here because Waller wanted another Deadshot on the team. It’s because of you, I have a bomb in my neck. I always wanted to be a fucking great markswoman, but it doesn’t mean I wanted to be you.”
It would have probably stung him if he was here at all. But frankly, a figment of her imagination wouldn’t have its feelings hurt if she didn’t want it to.
Floyd let out a sigh and patted the side of the cot to let her sit beside him.
“Y/N…”
Only in her head. She finally hears her name after two days.
She rolled her eyes and took the damn seat.
“You know why you have that fear?”
Her attention never left the ground.
“You know how much you hurt people. All the way back from when you shot your first target. The more you killed, the more you realized how painful it was going to be when the world bites you back and gives you what you think you deserve…”
“It is what I deserve.”
“You think irony is what’s going to kill you.”
“Stop it.”
“But this is who you are. You have never been me. You have always been a different Deadshot. And I knew that. Always. Zoe could see it. Jason could see it-“
“Don’t. Say. His name.”
“This is you. And you're forgetting what you used to call yourself when you were little. When you weren’t so afraid of it taking your life. I never gave you a name because you’ve already named yourself-“
“FLOYD-“
“You are The Bullet. If you think irony wants you dead, bit it back in the ass. Become your fear.”
“AGH!”
She swung at her side, but Floyd was gone.
-----
A pile of hay was actually nice to lay down on.
The cow that was staring at him the whole time, though, was quite unnerving. The chickens as well. And they woke him up just as the sun began to rise, and Jason never would have thought he’d have to wake up to ten chickens and roosters screaming at his ear, as a well a dog with so much salivation licking up his face.
He relieved himself, scratched his head, splashed his face with a bucket of water. Already, he felt so much better.
When he walked out of the barn, Jason saw the old farmer stretching his arms at the porch. He turned over to him and waved. Jason waved back. then he saw him gesture for him to come over and reluctantly, he did.
“Got a good night’s rest?”
“I certainly did. I can't thank you enough.”
“Don’t thank me just yet. Come on. Let’s get some breakfast.”
“I really should-“
“Oh, young man, you shouldn’t feel like this is of any trouble. ‘Cuz you are going to get your breakfast yourself.”
He wasn’t so sure what that meant. “What?”
“Here’s a basket. Stay away from the chicken at the far back. She likes to peck out of your fingers.”
Oh. Well, shit.
“Okay,” Jason swallowed.
He went back into the barn and walked on over to the chicken coop. There were a few of the females in their cages laying eggs. And the roosters were just strutting about like they owned the place.
A certain one with a smooth head and red and yellow feathers started pecking at his feet. “You know, you remind me of a certain replacement back at home.”
The rooster clucked, then walked away into the hay piles.
“Okay, don’t kill me,” Jason kept his head away when he reached in and felt for eggs in the nest. It was still warm to touch. He took two and placed them on the basket. He did the same over the other ones until he reached the last one. The largest one.
But she had her own eggs inside and there wasn’t really much for both of them to eat. He closed one eye as he reached over…
“BUUUUUCK!” The chicken bit his hand and rapidly flapped her wings at Jason, then he instantly shut the cage door.
“Shit.”
He went back over to the house and knocked on the door. The farmer smiled at him as he took the basket.
“Come on. You can wait over at the table and I’ll fry these babies up.”
“I don’t mean to impos-“
“Eh, come on over.”
The old man had already turned around and went into the kitchen. His house was so small. There was only one couch. No TV. A lot of books. A dinner table that sat two.
He went over to the shelf.
It wasn’t so much the kind of books he read. Not the classics. They were all dime romance novels you’d find at a gas station store. And there were a lot of them.
“My wife left them behind,” the farmer said to him. “I read one everyday. Just to keep some kind of memory of her.”
He smiled. Because he didn’t say it like he was someone to pity over. He said it like it was something to be proud of. And it was.
“You read the paper, boy? It’s over there.”
He pointed at the newspaper on the table. “We got a delivery boy from the next house. I pay him a hefty price just to come all the way up here everyday.”
“They still have newspapers?”
The old man narrowed his boys. “Youngsters.”
He took the paper and sat on the table. Nothing much interested him. Mostly just news on a town in Tennessee.
But there was one, tiny section at the corner that caught his eye.
‘Dead Billionaire Falcone Found Penniless’
‘Gotham City’s billionaire philanthropist Carmine Falcone, after being murdered in his office underneath the Gotham Museum of Art, was discovered to have left nothing to his apparent heirs, as the title of all his assets, the museum included, had been secretly sold out and transferred ownership to various other enterprises from all across the world. This includes all the recently bought out conglomerates and properties from other businessmen of Gotham, such as Salvatore Maroni and ten others. These assets have since been liquidated just days prior to his death. But as they checked all of Mr. Falcone’s accounts, the numbers were as good as zeroes. It is unknown where the money had gone to and why the billionaire chose to do so. The Falcone Family insists on investigating the matter and getting the inheritance that their patriarch had left behind.’
 The old farmer then placed his plate of eggs on the table, as well as a few strips of bacon.
“Killed that boar just a few days ago. Pig’s been feeding me everyday since then,” he chuckled, then he took the seat beside Jason and ate up his food.
When Jason was washing the plates, the old farmer had fallen asleep on his couch. It was refreshing, seeing folks like this so trusting. It will kill him, one of these days. If he ever lets in the wrong kind of people. And looking around, he didn’t even look like he had a gun. If Jason had one with him, he’d give it to the old man just so he’d have some chance against the evils out there.
Jason sat out the porch, on the rocking chair. He watched as the field of wheat danced along the wind, as the grass fluttered with that beautiful, calming sound brushing against each other. Every so often, the wind strengthens, and it was with the bells hung on the door and the windvane that sounded so well with the leaves being blown away. It was so different from Gotham.
He pulled out the picture of Y/N and instantly, everything felt even lighter. And heavier. At the same time. Lighter because she brightens up everything there was, wherever he was. And heavier because she wasn’t actually here. And while he was this lucky to have found the help he needed, she, on the other hand, wasn’t.
He’s never had anyone sacrifice so much for him more than she did.
She loved him so much…
And the prison was all the way over to Louisiana. The opposite side of where he was going. After a night’s rest, he realized there wasn’t even anything waiting for him at Gotham. She wasn’t there. Everything he hated, on the other hand, was. There was nothing left for him. Nothing he could go back to.
“Pretty thing, she is.”
The old man was leaning against the wall behind him, looking over his shoulder at Y/N’s picture.
“Yeah… the prettiest.”
“Your girl?”
He nodded.
“She who you going back to in Gotham?”
“She… uh… isn’t there.”
“Where is she then?”
This man didn’t know anyone five miles outside his house. It probably wouldn’t matter. “She’s… in Belle Reve.”
“Oh,” He wheezed through the spaces in his gums. “Sorry to hear that.”
“I should have gone there with her.”
“Belle Reve, eh?” the farmer asked.
“Yeah.”
“Take the bus across the street. You’ll end up going back to where you came from but that bus’s going all the way over to Louisiana.
“There’s a bus going to the prison?”
“Aye. I suggest you go after her. You got better things to do back at home?”
He didn’t answer. He just stared at the fluttering wheat and the tall grass around it.
“I served my time. Four years. My wife visited me all the time. Made me feel appreciated. Like she never gave up on me. Doesn’t matter what I did or what I’ve done to deserve it.”
“What did you do?”
He laughed. “What didn’t I do? I was a bad kid. All the way up to my thirties. Everyone looked at me like I was some sort of rat. Especially my son. He left the minute he could walk and never came back.”
“I’m sorry…” he shook his head. “And I know how it feels. Being a troubled kid.”
“Then that woman of yours better look at you differently than everyone else, ‘cuz they be the only ones we hang on to. Makes us want to do better and prove them right.”
Yeah. Definitely.
That night, he slept on the rocking chair looking up at the stars. When he woke up, the farmer had placed a blanket over him.
-----
“AAAAAAGGGGHHHHH!”
“Get up from the damn floor, Lawton!”
“My name…” Deadshot spat at the floor. “…isn’t Lawton.”
“I don’t care. Get up.”
The taser was brought right back up against her spine. Daring her. Waiting for her to try to snap another neck. Then with both her arms held back, they started leading her out into the open field.
“Usually, we do this far away from the facility. But with Waller here, she wanted to see what you can do.”
“Ah. Tryouts. Do I get this fucking bomb off my neck if I fail?”
“No. It will detonate.”
“Fuck you.”
Out into the bright, glimmering sunshine, she squinted her eyes and shielded her face with her hair. But she could barely do so much as blink when there were five guards around her, armed this time. She could probably reach out into a man’s hip and grab a gun without them looking if she didn’t already know where she was headed.
Out on the bright, orange field. Clear of grass and littered with human shaped shooting targets. They were, however, laid out side by side, closely to each other. She would have thought they’d be further apart. And they all stood on top of a black, outstretched tire that went in a large circle.
Amanda Waller. One of her men held out an umbrella for her despite her being a few inches taller. There were even more armed men littered around. One more so than the rest. A pale-skinned man with a large AK over his chest, a bullet proof vest, military gear. Sunglasses that shielded his eyes.
Rick Flag.
“So you’re the new Deadshot,” Rick greeted her as they dragged her toward the range. “I see the resemblance.”
“She’s even more daring than Floyd,” Waller said to her. “I’d be careful.”
“Well, we might as well know now if she’s any better than her uncle.”
“I am.”
“Are you now?”
“That’s what she says,” Waller raised a brow at her.
“Unlock her.”
She waited for the guards to take out the cuffs. Smoothing out her wrists, she stretched out her arms.
“How would you know I won't shoot you?”
“I don’t. But I’m here to see if you're just a fraud or if you're at least half as good as your uncle. Now get to work.”
Her neck stretching over to the side, Deadshot went over to the table. A whole arsenal of weapons. AKs. Sniper rifles. Pistols. With all the magazines and ammo she needed. She walked on over and picked the pistol.
The daylight young, the people around her silent, everyone turned their watchful eyes on her, guns out, ready to pounce.
She pointed the AK-47 at the targets and fired.
At the ten targets. One shot on each of their heads. She shot it all within a second, just as she told Waller she could do. And at the next round, she shot those exact same bullet holes in the same length of time. And all over again five times over.
There was only just one hole on each target. A hole she’s shot at several times from a hundred yards away.
She placed the AK back onto the table.
“Done. Can I go now?”
“No. We decided to give you more of a challenge.”
The rubber tire, or what looked like one, where the targets were standing on, they all of a sudden started spinning slowly in a circle at a click on Rick Flag’s remote. Turning over the corner, back facing Deadshot, before it turned back to face her again. It was a fucking conveyer belt.
Deadshot bit onto her gums.
She took the pistol this time.
“Go.”
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
“We didn’t have this in our time,” Floyd said to her ear.
“Shut up.”
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
The targets had turned. She had to shoot their backs. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve.
Almost missed that one. She placed another magazine.
Fifteen.
Sixteen.
Eighteen.
Twenty-two.
The target looked like it was about to break. Even with it made of metal.
Thirty. Forty.
Then the target got faster.
She took an M-16 Carbine.
The recoil was sharp on her shoulder, painful when it pushed her back. She kept firing. Firing. She was slower, took her time just a bit more. She reloaded it not long after until finally, one of the target’s heads actually blew off.
Sixty. Seventy. Eighty
Finally, the Barret MRad Sniper rifle.
The targets started spinning even faster. But she didn’t flinch. She kept her focus.
She breathed.
She slowed her heartbeat.
She cleared her thoughts.
Ninety-seven.
‘Come on.’
Ninety-eight.
‘You’re almost there.’
Ninety-nine.
‘Become the bullet.’
One fucking hundred.
Breaths out, she put the gun back on the table.
Then Flag turned off the conveyer belt.
One hundred shots. Which meant each target should have had around ten bullets pierce through it’s head.
But there was only one bullet hole on all of them. Right at the center of their heads. The same ones she had already made.
“Sorry about the other one,” she shrugged. “Didn’t realize your equipment wasn’t up to par.”
Flag didn’t move his head, but let his eyes follow her until she walked over to the guards, put her hands behind her and smirked.
“I’m surprised you're not asking for a million dollars like your uncle.”
“He asked for Zoe to live a good life. And you couldn’t even give that. And trust me, I’ve already made my deal with your boss. Am I right, Waller?”
Waller’s frown was something no one would be able to draw. Her nostrils were flared up, and the way Deadshot just smiled at her, it was braver than anyone else in the whole building had done.
The guards kept their silence now. Didn’t stick a taser up her back. Didn’t beat her with a baton on the way to her cell. But when they locked her up, they added just one more lock on its hinges. She placed her elbows against the door and looked out through the opening, watching the guards avoid the look on her eye.
-----
Six eggs. The last chicken finally let him hand over her lays and he walked happily out of the barn and walked back into the house.
“Here,” he gave it to the old man.
“Thank you, son. You’re a real good man.”
“No. I don’t… I don’t know how to thank you enough. You saved my life.”
“Ah. Don’t mention it. The company you’ve given me? More than what I could ask for. You remind me so much of my son. Except, you're a lot nicer.”
Jason watched him crack the eggs into the pan.
“I should get going.”
“You won't stay for breakfast?”
“I can't. But thank you.”
“Here,” he went over to his fridge and took out a sandwich. “Prepared it for you. For the trip back.”
He didn’t even know how much he’s thanked this man so far. Who was he? Did he know Jason somehow? Was he someone he forgot?
Probably not. He was just a lonely old man in need of company. His wife would have died three, maybe four years ago, and he only ever goes out into the city once a month. He wasn’t sure if he even talks to people in between them.
“I guess I can have a bite,” Jason said.
The old man’s smile was incomparable.
They ate and laughed the whole time on that table. Jason ate the eggs, drank the freshest glass of milk he’s had in a long time. He had bathed in the barn that morning and he’s never felt better since he got dropped off in the middle of nowhere. It was humbling, where he was.
He could only wish he got to share this with Y/N. He and the farmer would have hit it off.
The old man went out with him on the porch. The bus to Gotham arrives in five minutes.
“Here.” Jason took out his wallet and took out a few bills. “For your troubles.”
“Son, I have no use for money. I grow my own food. I buy only the absolute necessities. You would end up needing it more than I do.”
“Please…”
The old man held out his hand, shook his head. Every time, he surprises him.
“I can't believe I never caught your name…” Jason said.
He grinned from ear to ear, tipped down his hat, then laughed. “Name’s Bruce.”
It caught him off guard. Just for a second. “What?”
“Bruce Larkin. Lived in Tennessee my whole life.”
He stretched out his hand for him to take. Eyes not leaving his face, Jason took it. “What’s your name, boy?”
“Jason. Jason Todd.”
“Young Jason. Pleasure to have met you.”
“You're a good man, Bruce.”
“I may have done my deeds, but I lived a good life. Now go. Bus should be here in a few seconds.”
It almost hurt having to leave the old man behind. One of these days, he’ll come back. Pay a visit. Still, it made him wonder who this man truly was, what his intentions actually were.
He’s only met so many good people, truly good people, ones who never think of anything in return and take happiness out of helping strangers they didn’t know. It was hard to believe that no matter the cruelties he’s dealt with his whole life, there were the pure angels out there to lift him back up.
And, the one thing he couldn’t believe he noticed, Farmer Bruce never once mentioned the mark on his face. Didn’t think it tainted him or looked at it long enough to make him squirm.
He looked back out at the house. Bruce was still there, hands in his pockets.
The bus stopped in front of him and the door split open.
If he gets on, he’ll be off to Gotham.
If he stays behind and crosses the street, he’ll wait another five minutes for the bus to Louisiana. He’ll risk his life and do anything to see Y/N again.
It wasn’t even a hard decision to make.
Jason watched the bus doors closed. Then when it left, he crossed the street. Minutes later the next bus stopped and he got in. Waving at Bruce through the window, he settled down and closed his eyes.
He watched the miles of grass, wide open fields, swamps, forests, and lakes pass through him in the window. He let the calmness help him mellow down. And although it helped, it only guilted him into remembering the tortures his one love had to be going through right now. While he was so lucky, she was suffering. Fuck.
He had no idea what to expect. The day turned to night, then turned back to morning. He was in the bus for hours. Absolutely nothing went on in his mind. And he was scared. He didn’t even have a plan. He was probably going to have to break into Belle Reve. And that was if they hadn’t already taken her away to some god awful mission and possibly lose her life.
He couldn’t sleep on the bus. But he was ready. He was going to stop at nothing to see her.
The gates of Belle Reve. He hopped off the cab and stared at it from the outside.
Then he saw a few guards doing their rounds around the perimeter.
If he was fast enough, he might catch one of them alone. It’ll be all he needed. So he watched the cameras. Found a blind spot. And it was a risk without his visor on.
But for Y/N, it didn’t seem like much of a risk at all.
-----
This cot was going to blow out anytime soon.
It wasn’t even that she was heavy. It was rickety and old, probably the same exact one Floyd used. And Floyd was a large man. The seams started to rip and the place where her ass lays against was as worn out as a dirty rag. She didn’t like to think about why that was.
But god help her if she even cares much about the stupid cot. She laid against the wall, knees up to her chest. The wall was staring back at her like and she wasn’t about to let it win. Was she going crazy? Probably. She didn’t care much about that either. She’ll be working with Harley. She’ll have to be crazy to deal with her.
She heard guards from outside. So she closed her eyes and pretended to sleep.
Only one guard, it seems. There weren’t any talking. And there was only one set of footsteps coming her way. She hated that even more. Then the taunting and catcalling and harassing won't be in any way hindered.
“Y/FN Y/LN?”
That was a first. No one’s said her real name in… ever.
“What do you want?”
She heard the small opening at her door slide open. The guard’s voice was less muffled now. “It’s me.”
Who-
That voice.
She looked up.
“Oh my god…” she leapt up the cot and ran all the way over to the door. Hands on the iron, eyes watery and gleaming against the dim, orange light.
Jason was the most beautiful man in the whole world and he looked no less than an angel disguised as a guard, half his face covered with a mask. But it was, without a doubt, his bright blue eyes that was staring right at her.
“I’m here, baby…”
“Jason…” The endless tears. All of it. She hadn’t even cried her whole time in Belle Reve. She’s screamed. She’s yelled out in the most horrible pain. But she never cried. And all those days of torture, it came out of her now. Even more so when Jason pulled down his mask and pressed his forehead against the door to get as close to her as she could.
At the bottom opening, he had his hand out. Y/N took it and held it so tightly that her fingers started going numb. He took off his gloves so he could feel her warmth. Or rather, let her feel his warmth.
“You are a complete dumbass for breaking in here,” she cried.
“I know. I am. But I’ve always been one for you.”
“God,” she reached out with her other hand, holding both of his. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
“Are you alright? What did they do to you?”
She wanted to lie. Tell him she was okay. Even though she was barely even holding up on her own two feet. “Just about how every prisoner gets treated here…”
“Fuck… Y/N…”
His thumb over her skin, she never felt so happy over something that was never going to last.
“I swear I’ll do anything to get you out.”
“Jay…” she cried. “You’ll die…”
“And if I don’t, you’ll die.”
“I’ll be alright. They’ll let you visit. After a while. I think. I’m not too sure.”
“I’m not taking that chance.”
“Jay-“
“No. I mean it. I’m not going to let this go. You can't possibly expect me to move on…”
No. She didn’t. Not without the worst kinds of pain that’ll possibly drive him mad.
“I’m so sorry…”
“Look at me.”
She did. He was so beautiful…
“I’ll get you out. You won't have to suffer for long. I’ll make sure of it. One way or another, I’m getting you out.”
He’s never held his hand so tight.
“Okay…”
Footsteps. They were coming.
“Shit…”
“I love you.”
“I love you so much. I promise you. I’m getting you out of here, Y/N.”
Y/N. She was Y/N again. Always had been.
Jason stuffed something small into her palm.
Then he left before the other guard could turn to the corner and see them together. He looked at Y/N, who was staring out the opening.
The guard squinted at her, walked closer, then shut the hole closed.
She looked at her palm.
The brightest blue engagement ring stared right back at her.
-----
Jason had to get out.
But he had to do this fast. He was at the guard’s lounge, where plenty were taking their lunch breaks. They didn’t give him so much as a glance when their eyes were focused onto the TV watching a football game. There was a telephone at a wall nearby. One he didn’t have to pay for.
He walked to it.
When he said he’ll do everything, he meant everything.
His pride could fucking suck it. His ego can die. He didn’t care if those assholes will have to think he’d grown soft. This was about Y/N. He didn’t care if he had to strut naked out at the Gotham Plaza. Though, this was so much worse.
Farmer Bruce would have done the same.
And he was going to get all the help he needed.
“Hello?”
“Dick,” his mouth trembled against the phone. “It’s me. Jason.”
“Jason?! This is a fucking collect call-“
“Then you better listen. Y/N’s in prison.”
“What?!”
He told him everything. About the deal with Waller. Her place in the Squad. The bomb in her neck. He tried with all he can to sound as desperate as he actually was. Dick, as much as it pained him to hear, wasn’t so convinced in what he asked of him.
“Jason, if you're asking me to help you get her out-“
“Please. Please. She’ll die. We need Oracle. And Robin.”
“Jason...” He heard Dick sigh.
The cops roared at the TV. Someone scored a goal.
“What Waller’s doing is wrong. You know that.”
“I know, but she made a deal with Bruce that he wasn’t to interfere with her task force.”
“We’re not Bruce. This is Y/N. Please, Dick, she’s the only thing I’ve got… You say you want me back in the family. Well, she’s my family. And I swear, if you help me with this, I owe you my life.”
“Okay. Okay,” he let out a sigh. “Okay. She’s… I understand.”
Jason’s breath was shaking against the phone. “I should be back in Gotham in a day’s time.”
“We need to do this as legally as possible. What did you have in mind?”
“I’m- I’m not so sure. It’s impossible to break her out of this place. They’ve upped the security since Harley broke out.”
“So we wait?”
“On her first mission out with the squad. We can go with them and sneak her out when no one’s looking. And I’ll need Oracle to come up with something that can disable the bomb in her neck.”
“Jason, that could be months from now.”
“Or days. Waller seemed persistent to get her here. I thought she might have been preparing for something. You heard about the news on Falcone?“
“Yeah. Real shady stuff. All his money went out to so many ghost accounts under different names of people that don’t even exist. And they’ve all been withdrawn. That’s billions of dollars.”
“Exactly. What if it’s just one guy? Waller knew about Falcone. She’s been warning Y/N not to work for him for a while. What if she knows exactly who’s behind it the whole time? Falcone’s puppet master to get him the money he needed?”
“That’s a long list of suspects, Jay.”
“We can narrow it dow-“
Loud groans from the guards screaming boos at the TV. When he looked up, he saw the game had been interrupted by breaking news.
Jason stopped talking to Dick when he saw the picture on the screen.
“Jason? You there?”
“Dick… Turn on the news…”
“Reports from Gotham City where it seems to have had history repeat itself from the night before the Arkham Knight Militia occupation. The National Bank of Gotham had just been exposed to a familiar cloud of fear toxin. One-hundred twenty-six people were inside the building as the smoke dispersed, and almost all of them had fallen victim from the bank’s armed guard, who had used his gun to massacre more than twenty people in the building. The victims were shown to have displayed severe cases of mania and hallucinations, causing them to act almost inhumane and do countless of harmful acts.”
“Fuck…” Dick said to the phone. “Not again…”
“The man behind this infamous toxin is no other than Dr. Jonathan Crane, also known by his alias as the Scarecrow-“
Vicki Vale stopped talking to the camera and pressed on her earpiece.
“Hold on. I’m getting reports on Scarecrow releasing a broadcast over at Times’ Square. Air it now!”
The camera switched over to one at the square. It faced the billboard.
Nothing changed. Not even his face. And if he weren’t paying attention, if Jason hadn’t been behind the camera the first time Scarecrow released his city wide warning, he wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference.
“This city… cannot so easily escape my reign of fear… If you thought the last time was the worst I can do, I am telling you now… Citizens of Gotham. This is no longer just about you. You can no longer escape. There is no use in evacuating… I have amassed a new Cloudburst weapon powerful enough to engulf the whole of the country in my latest toxin… This is not a warning to Gotham.
“This… is my only warning… to America…”
“Dick…” Jason said over to the phone. “Wanna bet on where he got the funding for that weapon?”
-----
MASTERLIST
THE BULLET MASTERLIST
------
everyartistwas-firstanamateur  @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki@everyday-imfangirling @comic-nerd-dc@multifandoms916@icequeen208@offendedfishnoises@egdolan@xemiefx@arkhamtoddler@elsenthal@mythicbitchx@supremehaunter burning-alive  @lucy-roo  roseangel013bf @ loxbbg  reclusive-chicken-nuggethttp-cherriesshadowsndaisiesriver9noblezphilophobiazannoylinglyaries@knightfall05flowersgirl02 @l-inkage​ @hyp-oh-critical​
90 notes · View notes
chloelucia13 · 3 years
Text
Nothing Personal: the Playlist
Link
1. Peace - Taylor Swift
All these people think love's for show But I would die for you in secret
2. Crave You - Flight Facilities ft. Giselle
Why can't you want me like the other boys do? They stare at me while I stare at you Why can't I keep you safe as my own? One moment I have you the next you're gone
3. Allies or Enemies - The Crane Wives
I swear I didn’t mean what I said I swear I didn’t mean it ... All is fair in love and war, but I can’t fight with you anymore This will be the death of me Are we allies or enemies?
4. Lemons - Brye
And I don't wanna encourage your abusive behaviour But I just can't let you win I'm legitimately tired of being walked all over By these insecure babies who think that they're men
5. Even if it’s a Lie - Matt Maltese
You're the girl to push away my doubt But it's too late and we’re too young to know
6. Champagne Problems - Taylor Swift
But you'll find the real thing instead She'll patch up your tapestry that I shredAnd hold your hand while dancing Never leave you standing Crestfallen on the landing
7. Cellophane - FKA Twigs
Didn't I do it for you? Why don't I do it for you? Why won't you do it for me? When all I do is for you?
8. Never Gonna Love Again - Lykke Li
How can we Turn around the heartache Oh I, I'm alone tonight babe And I'm never gonna love again
9. Landfill - Daughter
'Cause this is torturous electricity Between both of us and this is Dangerous 'cause I want you so much But I hate your guts
10. Hoax - Taylor Swift
You have beaten my heart Don't want no other shade of blue But you No other sadness in the world would do
11. I Threw Glass at my Friend’s Eyes and now I’m on Probation - Destroy Boys
You're ruining my life day by day The butterflies you give me are literally making me nauseous This is disgusting, like seriously dude What do you think you're doing?
12. Love Love Love - Of Monsters and Men
Well, maybe I'm a crook for stealing your heart away And maybe I'm a crook for not caring for it Yeah, maybe I'm a bad, bad, bad... bad person Well, baby I know
13. The Hearse - Matt Maeson 
I am the man we both couldn't stand I can't wash off the dirt from my hands What was it like to feel in love? What was it like to feel in love?
14. Greek Tragedy - The Wombats
This method acting might pay our bills But soon enough there'll be a different role to fill I love this feeling But I hate this part
15. Gold Rush - Taylor Swift
I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush Everybody wants you But I don't like a gold rush
16. Space Song - Beach House
What makes this fragile world go round? Were you ever lost? Was she ever found?
17. Boys Don’t Cry - The Cure
I would say I'm sorry If I thought that it would change your mind But I know that this time I have said too much, been too unkind
18. All You Had to do was Stay - Taylor Swift
Here you are now, calling me up, but I don't know what to say I've been picking up the pieces of the mess you made People like you always want back the love they pushed aside But people like me are gone forever when you say goodbye
19. She - Dodie
and I'll be okay Admiring from afar Cause even when she's next to me We could not be more far apart
20. John My Beloved - Sufjan Stevens
So can we pretend sweetly Before the mystery ends? I am a man with a heart that offends With its lonely and greedy demands
21. Dust to Dust - The Civil Wars
Let me in the walls You've built around We can light a match And burn them down
22. Fidelity - Regina Spektor
I never loved nobody fully Always one foot on the ground And by protecting my heart truly I got lost In the sounds I hear in my mind
23. Folding Chair - Regina Spektor
Maybe one day you'll understand I don't want nothing from you but to sweetly hold your hand Till that day, just Please don't be so down
24. Enough for You - Olivia Rodrigo
And maybe I'm just not as interesting As the girls you had before But God, you couldn't have cared less About someone who loved you more
25. Cold Cold Man - Saint Motel
Oh, my love I know, I am a cold cold man ... You're the only one worth seeing The only place worth being The only bed worth sleeping's the one right next to you
26. What are you so Afraid Of - Videoclub
What are you so afraid of? Is it love wasting your time?
27. Love - Daughter
I know you regret it, love You told me so many times But I still wonder Why You left with her And left me behind
28. I Hurt Too - Katie Herzig 
When an ocean sits right between us There is no sign that we'll ever cross You should know now that I feel the loss
29. Renegade - Big Red Machine ft. Taylor Swift
There was nowhere for me to stay, but I stayed anyway And if I would've known how many pieces you had crumbled into I might have let them lay ... You wouldn't be the first renegade to need somebody Is it insensitive for me to say "Get your shit together so I can love you?" Is it really your anxiety that stops you from giving me everything? Or do you just not want to? ... You fire off missiles ’cause you hate yourself But do you know you're demolishing me? And then you squeeze my hand as I'm about to leave
30. Happier Than Ever - Billie Eilish
And I don't talk shit about you on the internet Never told anyone anything bad 'Cause that shit's embarrassing, you were my everything And all that you did was make me fuckin' sad
31. Rules - Jayme Dee
You say you know love, but you are just reflecting words you hear No iron in your veins to give you any sense of pain or fear It's just another lie, it's just another calculation And when the power's out, we're just another old sensation
32. Bitter Heart - Memi ft. Staffan Carlen
Suddenly you look like a stranger A face I knew, but I must've forgotten Emotional flicker, you were my everything
---
Oh, I wish that you hadn't pulled the trigger Shot me down with my bitter heart
33. Brush Fire - Sierra Eagleson
How are you, lovely? Reddest rose between all these thorns Morning coffee And a voice to settle all the storms It's kind of funny Hearing you don't need me anymore Just say you love me
34. Sea of Doubts - Azure Ray
A spectator I played my part But nothing could move this heart Until i held the boys hand The little one spoke like a man He showed me death and said This is how you know you're alive
35. First Love/Late Spring - Mitski
So please hurry leave me I can't breathe Please don't say you love me 
36. Deep End - Birdy
Ooh, how do we mend? Ooh, I didn't choose to depend on you It's out of our hands Maybe it will work out in the end I don't know if you mean everything to me And I wonder, can I give you what you need? Don't want to find I've lost it all Too scared to have no one to call So can we just pretend?
37. And the Boys - Angus and Julia Stone
Well, it's been days now And you've changed your mind again All the cracks in the walls Reminds you of things we said And I could tell you That I won't hurt you this time But it's just safer To keep you in this heart of mine
38. Strange - Celeste
I am still me You are still you In the same place Isn't it strange? How people can change From strangers to friends Friends into lovers And strangers again
39. The Cut that Always Bleeds - Conan Gray
To say you loved me all along And kissed the bruises 'til they're gone Bittersweet, 'cause I can't breathe Inside your arms
'Cause if you're gonna leave Better leave, better do it fast Can't live another minute Bleeding from my back 'Cause I don't have another one For you to stab And I don't want to have Another heart attack
---
But even though you're killing me I, I need you like the air I breathe I need, I need you more than me I need you more than anything Please, please
40. James - Maggie Rogers
"Too young, too thoughtless, " I said to myself With idealistic visions all perched on the shelf And I'm still hoping, waiting for you to come home
---
Maybe you're in love or hung up on another And maybe you found a far prettier lover And maybe you'll paint her a picture like you did for me
41. Cry- Cigarettes After Sex
But I need to tell you something My heart just can't be faithful for long I swear I'll only make you cry
Maybe I'd change for you someday But I can't help the way I feel Wish I was good, wish that I could Give you my love now
Tags: @summerdaughter​, @spid3rgwen​, @girlfriday007​, @lmaosupertuff​, @pansexualproblemchild​, @toothhurtyam​, @claudiaatje​, @angstysebfan​, @tyzerman91​, @hawsx3​, @slut-for-buck, @foggyempathfireperson, @etherealghostface​, @bby-aj​, @stolenxkissess​, @joseyrw​
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deans-baby-momma · 3 years
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Wounded Hearts 18
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Spring 2004  Dean’s POV
After meeting up with Dad, who was still with the Sheriff, we head toward the car as I tell him about the suggestion Melonie gave me. 
“I could use one of those,” Dad says with a smile as we head in the direction of the drive-in. Pulling in I can’t help but smile as I see the very girl who recommended this place, her blue and white uniform crisp and clean in the sunlight. 
Melonie walks up to the driver’s side window as Dad rolls it down and begins her spiel. “Welcome to the Pinnacle- oh hey. I see you found it.” she says as she notices me in the passenger seat.
“Yea. We are interested in those melt-in-your-mouth burgers.”
“Okay sure,” she says as she takes her pad out and jots it down. “Want something to drink also? We got any type of soda you can think of or tea or water.”
“Give us two Cokes darlin’,” Dad tells her. Melonie nods as she writes down the order and then walks away.
“So, that’s who told you about this place?” Dad asks, a big grin on his face as he looks at me. “I think maybe it’s not only the food you’re interested in here.”
I roll my eyes as he wiggles his eyebrows and chuckles. “Listen, I am pretty sure I know what is going on here. I can take care of it if you want to….ya know, sample to local cuisine.”
“It is so weird hearing you talk like that,” I say with my own chuckle. “But no, She just got to work so it’ll be hours before she’d have any free time. And besides, who says she is even interested?”
Melonie delivers our food and we thank her. I watch as she turns and walks to the next car to take their orders. She gives off the impression of someone happy and well put together and, well…..those are not the kind of girls that usually go for guys like me. She also seems like the kind of person I could find myself falling for and that’s just not possible. 
We’d be gone in a few days and anyways, my heart is unavailable. 
I take a bite of the burger and moan around the mouthful of food. The flavors all sync so smoothly that it just melts in your mouth. Melonie didn’t lie about that. I chuckle when Dad has the same reaction after his first bite. 
Melonie comes back to the Impala a few times to check if we need anything and when Dad asks for the check I can see the disappointment on her face but she quickly masks it with her usually jovial self. 
“Okay," Dad says after paying for the meal. “It’s almost 3 now. If we get back to the motel and go over the information from Sheriff Aliff, we should be able to take these bastards out and you can get back here before her shift’s over. You said she apparently walked to work? So, offer to walk her home?”
When she returns with our change and receipt, Dad questions her about what time her shift ends and does the ‘dirty work’ for me.
“My partner here will be back at 9 to make sure you get home safe and sound.”
Melonie smiles at me and nods then turns to get back to work as Dad pulls the Impala back out onto the road. Dad tells me he's pretty much got the case figured out. He explains the monster is a bakakku. They are cave-dwellers who feed off the brains of other beings. Dad is fairly certain that there is only one bakakku holed up in a closed down mine near Pineville.
"But if there are multiple bakakku, you don't need to be going in alone," I counter. "Do you even know how to kill it?"
"No. So until your lady friend's shift is over, you and I are going to research and try to find more information," he tells me. "Then while you are making sure she gets home safely, I'll take care of the bakakku and be back at the motel when you return. Be it late tonight, in the morning, mid-day, whenever."
Dad chuckles at his own quip while I roll my eyes.
To hear my dad talk and encourage me to hook up with some rando girl in some rando town for the night is just weird.
"Listen son," he begins as he senses my awkwardness. "Ain't nothing wrong with getting your jollies where you can. Believe me, I know. You may not want to hear this but this job….it's lonely and bleak. Yea we save people but hardly ever get a thank you. So you get your reward other ways. 
"I have been known to seek out those 'rewards' and you know, it's nice. You don't have to worry about anyone catching feelings because if they do-" he shrugs as he continues. "-you're already gone."
"You've…..you have slept with other women?" I am astonished at what my father just admitted. "You cheated on Mom?"
"No Dean!" he demands. "I loved your mom with everything in me but she is gone son. I hate to say it as much as you hate to hear it but I am a man and sometimes I just need to get my dick wet, okay? It's not cheating. My wife is dead."
By the time it's close to the end of Melonie's shift, we have concluded how to take out the bakakku and readied the weapon needed. Dad drops me off at the drive-in and proceeds to the mines. 
Leaning against the building, I watch as Melonie finishes up with the last two customers before she walks over.
"I just have to close out my till and make the drop in the safe then I'll be ready."
"Take your time," I tell her with a smile. She returns it and then tiptoes to kiss me. 
When her lips touch mine, all reserves are gone. Tonight, I will do as Dad suggested and enjoy the rewarding benefits of the job of hunting things and saving people.  And watching Melonie walk away, I absolutely cannot wait!
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Rebecca’s POV  Winter 2003
“He was the epitome of bad boys,” I chuckle as I settle down on the sofa later that night with Sam. He had asked me to tell him more about Whitney’s dad and we waited until the little girl was in bed for the night before getting into it. “Cocky, confident and egotistical. He was handsome as the devil and he knew it. He sauntered around the school like he owned it. He-” I pause to take a drink of my soda. “-actually announced to the school that he was a hero; whatever the hell that meant.”
“A hero? What had he done to think that?” Sam asks, with a chuckle.
“You got me. But, this was also right after he got caught in the janitor’s closet with Krissy Stephens…...by Amanda Heckerling, who just happened to be his girlfriend at the time,” I tell Sam.
“Whoa. He was a playa, huh? How the hell did you get tangled up with him? I mean, you seem so practical and sophisticated.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I so wasn’t back then. No, I was the nerd; the girl who kept her nose in her books and didn’t socialize with anyone. I was shy and bashful. All I wanted was to get through those four years of hell and go off to college. Well we see how that worked out, eh?”
“You wanted to go to college? For what?” Sam inquired, seemingly interested. 
“Psychology. I wanted to be a psychologist. But things changed. Dean happened.”
“So what, did he break up with Amanda and chase after you?”
“Um, no. After catching him in that closet with Krissy, Amanda dumped him in front of everyone; the whole school. Then a couple days later, he literally runs into me,” I stop as I remember the day vividly. “Practically bowled me over. He apologized and then invited me to have pizza with him, even going so far as making sure his little brother was there. They were staying at the Pines Motel and we sat and ate pizza and watched All Saints Day.”
“So wait,” Sam interrupts. “These two boys-kids- were staying in a motel. Where were their parents?”
“I don’t know,” I shrug as I answer. “I never asked. At least I don’t remember if I did. Either way, it was just Dean and Sam in the motel room. After the movie was over, Sam was begging to go to the arcade and I gave him money for some games. I didn’t realize until after he left that Dean and I were alone. And well you know what happened. She-” I point toward Whitney’s room. “-is proof of that.”
“So what happened next?”
“The next day, I saw him in 1st period but after that he vanished. I never saw him again. I found out from the motel manager that they had packed up and taken off in a black muscle car.”  
“Oh wow!” Sam says, stunned. “So he just humped and dumped you? I’m sorry that was inconsiderate.”
“No, you’re right. That’s exactly what happened,” I say with a chuckle. “I hated him too. After I found out I was pregnant, I wished death upon him. But then she was born and she looks so much like him, that it softened my hatred and I realized that I still have feelings for him.”
“Wow, Becky. Just…...wow!”
“I know. So here I am 8 years later, still kind of hung up on the boy that ran away.”
“I’m sorry Becky,” Sam says, dolefully. “If it makes you feel any better, Dean is a giant douche and doesn’t know what he’s missing. He has a beautiful daughter and her Mom isn’t that bad either.” Sam smiles at me.
“Isn’t that bad? Are you saying I’m not drop dead gorgeous Sam? My heart is broken,” I jest, chuckling.
“God no. Becky, I think you are beautiful, gorgeous, hot! But I didn’t want to seem like I was trying to come on to you. Like after spending the day with you I suddenly wanted to have a relationship,” he begins justifying until he realizes I’m joking. “Shut up!” he says with a laugh as he reaches out and pushes my shoulder.
@tftumblin @spnbaby-67 @markofdean79 @lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @travelingriversideblues-x @akshi8278 @keymology @hoboal87 @squirrelnotsam @natura1phenomenon @drakelover78 @larajadeschmidt13 @blacktithe7 @atc74 @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @vicariouslythruspn @sandlee44 @mogaruke @deanwanddamons @supraveng @deandreamernp @lyarr24​
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35 Questions Tag Game
I’m cheating: I was tagged to do 17 questions by @fromthedeskoftheraven and there’s a lot of overlap with the 30 questions that have been sitting in my drafts since I was tagged by @songsformonkeys several weeks ago, so instead of doing both or ditching one, I’m gonna do a mashup.
Thanks for thinking of me, friends! 🥰😘 (Sorry I’m bad at following directions!)
Rules:  answer 17 30 35 questions and tag 17 20 some blogs you want to get to know better
Name/Nickname:  I’m trying to keep my name off this blog for plausible deniability reasons (I have a young teenager who is out here in the wilds of the internet reading fanfic, and we'll both be happier if she and/or her fanfic-reading friends don’t find out for sure that I write smut fics just yet or... uh... ever.)  You can call me thirst or twp, I guess? (Or by my actual name in chats & msgs that aren't public ; )
Gender:  female (she/her)
Star sign:  Libra
Hogwarts house: Ravenclaw, probably?
Height:  5′ 5.5″ (approx 166cm). I always hoped I’d hit 5′6″, but at this point, that ship has sailed. I'm shrinking if anything
Time:  8:31am
Birthday:  mid October
Favorite bands: Beach Boys, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Nico & Vinz, REO Speedwagon & basically anything from the 80′s, Walk the Moon.  (My music tastes are eclectic, and there’s not a whole lot I don’t like.)
Favorite solo artists:  Matt Nathanson, Prince, Rihana, Taylor Swift (one of the few artists all of my girls & I can agree on) 
Song stuck in your head:  ‘Some Things Never Change’ from the Frozen 2 soundtrack (#momlife)
Last movie:  Kronk’s New Groove (#sameasabove)
Last show:  The Mandalorian 
When did I create this blog:  June 2020
What I post:  Mostly Pedro Pascal character gifs, fan art & fanfic.
Last thing I googled:  converting 65.5 inches to cm
Why I chose my url:  ‘Cause I like puns/wordplay and it... uh... seemed like a good idea at the time?
Other blogs:  Yep, several! Main is here, but don’t bother tagging me over there, 'cause I wont see if for like a month (if at all(
Do I get asks:  Some and I love them!!
Following:  991 (so yeah, tag or msg me if you want to make sure I see something)
Followers:  395 on this blog
Average hours of sleep:  My sleep schedule is shit and ranges from 2-12ish hours/night), so who tf even knows anymore. 
Lucky number:  not sure I have one... maybe 11?
Instruments Played:  Piano very poorly
What I’m wearing:  purple henley over a tank top and jeans
Dream job:  I dunno... zookeeper? librarian? studio artist? voice actor? author/artist of children’s picture books?  (I still haven’t decided what I want to be when I grow up)
Dream trip:  One of my cousins took a year off after college and spent the entire time traveling, visiting something like 40+ countries as he circumnavigated the globe, and that sounds pretty fantastic!  Otherwise, maybe something lazy and tropical where someone else manages all the planning and logistics (I am but a tired, stressed-out mom...  I just want to nap the day away until someone calls me for dinner). 
Favorite food:  Mexican (though that gets a little tricky now that I’m not eating dairy)
Nationality:  American
Favorite song(s):  This changes frequently, but current things on repeat are:  Van Horn by Saint Motel, Uncharted by Sara Bareilles, Holding Out for a Hero from Shrek 2, Oh What a Night by the Four Seasons, Downtown by Macklemore, Africa by Toto
Favorite author(s):  Jane Austen, Tolkien, Tamora Pierce, Steven King, Sandra Boynton, Dr Seuss, Shakespeare, Shel Silverstein, Simon R Green, Mercedes Lackey, Edgar Allan Poe, Terry Pratchett, Rumiko Takahashi, and so many others.
Last book:  Ahahahahaha... “real” books... in this economy?  Can I count the Boxcar Children Mystery I started the last time I forgot to take my phone with me to the bathroom? 😅  ...or Simplicity Parenting (reading it for a parent book group run by one of my kids’ teachers)?  These days, when I have time to read for fun, I’m all about fatnfic.
Top 3 fictional universes I wanna live in:  Star Trek tos, Dinotopia, Xanth
Aesthetics:  comfort, green plant life, water flowing (oceans, rivers, lakes), animals, overcast days, the sky, blue green, lots of soft pillows
Favorite animal noise:  cat purring
Random: Our heater is on the fritz, so it’s very cold in our house right now!
Zero pressure tagging (you can do 17, 30, or all 35 questions), and anyone else who wants to do this should consider themselves tagged & tag me when they do it!): @abuttoncalledsmalls @alwaysbethewest @anxiety-riddled-mando @frannyzooey @goldafterglow @heatherbel @immortalstarme @ithinkwehitametaphor @javiers-tac-vest @keeper0fthestars @knittingqueen13 @ladyblogger-margie @no-droids-on-sunday @remmyswritings
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