redroses07

[redroses07]

i love this

how bad do u want me | natalie scatorccio x reader

“Cause you like my hair, my ripped-up jeans, you like the bad girl i got in me.”

SUMMARY: After a quiet conversation with Coach Ben in the wilderness, you come to a realization about yourself that you’ve been avoiding for a long time - you’re in love with your best friend, Natalie Scatorccio.

warnings: nsfw, smut with plot, slight angst!

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

The fire was dying again.

You and Coach Ben sat across from it, the silence thick between you. Most nights, no one really talked anymore. But tonight—tonight felt heavy, like something needed to be said. You were chewing on a piece of dried something (you didn’t ask), half-listening to the hiss of the flames when he broke the silence.

“You ever been in love?”

The question felt like it came out of nowhere. You blinked at him. “What?”

He gave a tired shrug. “It’s the kind of question you think about a lot out here.”

You stared into the fire for a long time, the heat kissing your cheeks. “No,” you answered too quickly. Then, quieter: “At least, I don’t think so.”

Coach nodded, then said gently, “What about boys?”

“I dated some, but my heart was never really in it.”You shrugged, pulling your knees up to your chest. “It’s always been like that. I tried. I kissed them. I let them take me out. But it just felt like going through the motions. Like I was acting out a scene someone else wrote.”

He looked at you, not with judgment but with something like… curiosity. “So what does feel real to you?”

Your heart stuttered. The answer lived right there, under your tongue, ready to spill. And once you started talking, it didn’t stop.

And someone came in your mind.

Natalie.

You let out a long breath and started speaking, your voice softer than usual.

“When me and Natalie were younger… I don’t think I ever realized how much I needed Natalie. But there was always something between us, something I could never quite explain.” You paused, taking a moment to collect your thoughts. "When we were at my house, my mom would always be downstairs, cooking or doing something. And Natalie and I would go up to my room, lock the door, and just... be together."

You ran a hand through your hair, trying to find the right words. “We’d lie there in my bed, close, too close sometimes. I’d press my legs against hers, feeling the heat of her body next to mine.”

“I think I always knew, even back then, that I wanted more. But I didn’t know how to say it, how to make it real.”

Coach Ben stayed silent, watching you as you spoke. His presence was comforting, and yet, there was a pang in your chest as you relived those memories.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

You and Natalie were sitting on her bed in the dim light of her room, the air thick with the smell of cigarette smoke and the faint aroma of her cheap perfume. The faint sound of music played low, something from the ‘80s. Queen, maybe? You weren’t sure, but the static from the speakers added to the feeling of everything being just a little bit hazy.

She was sprawled across her bed, one leg bent, the other stretched out lazily, her ripped jeans showing more skin than you'd care to admit. Her black eyeliner smudged just slightly, as it always did, and her messy hair framed her face in the way it always did—like she didn’t care, but still somehow looked like she owned the room.

You were sitting a little too stiffly beside her, in your usual outfit of pink, a fuzzy sweater and white skirt with a flower hairclip on top of your head. A stark contrast to her—the good girl, the one who was always so... perfect.

You were used to the way people looked at you both, always wondering how the two of you ended up as best friends. You were opposites in every way. You were the quiet, perfect girl, the one who sat in the front of class and smiled politely. She was loud, messy, always caught up in something she shouldn’t be.

Still, here you were. Side by side, as you always were. Yet tonight, something felt different. You could feel it in the air, that shift that always came before something bigger, something you weren’t ready for but knew was inevitable.

“I don’t get why you hang out with me, (Y/N),” she muttered, her voice laced with something you couldn’t quite place. She turned her head, her eyes searching yours for something—maybe an answer. "I'm trouble, you know that, right?"

You glanced at her, biting your lip. You always hated when she said things like that. Like she wasn’t worth it, like you weren’t worth being around her.

“You’re not trouble,” you said, though your voice was quieter than you intended. “You’re just... complicated. But I like complicated.”

She snorted, a sharp sound that made your heart flutter in an oddly comforting way. “Yeah, sure. You like it ‘cause you’re perfect. You’ve got everything together. I’m just a mess.”

That ache you were feeling deep in your chest earlier felt heavier now. The gap between the two of you was always there, but tonight it felt bigger, harder to ignore. You looked at her again, really looked at her. Natalie—your best friend, the one who you’d known for years, who knew you better than anyone else ever could.

“Maybe I like you because I’m not perfect,” you said, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “And I don’t want to be.”

There was a long pause as Natalie processed your words. She tilted her head slightly, watching you closely, and then a small, almost sad smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

“You’re so good to me, cupcake,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart thudded painfully in your chest at the nickname. That nickname. She only ever called you that when she was soft, when she wasn’t trying to hide the part of her that was vulnerable, even if she didn’t always let herself show it.

“I’m not... I’m not good,” you whispered back, your words shaky. You wanted to say more, but the words were stuck in your throat. "You... you’ve been through so much. And you—"

But Natalie cut you off with a shake of her head, her expression turning serious. “You’ve always been good, (Y/N),” she said, her voice like gravel. "You just don’t see it. You always help me, no matter what. You keep me from falling apart."

Her words hung in the air, and you could feel them pressing down on you, making everything feel heavier. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “You don’t have to let me in, you know? You can—"

“I’m not going anywhere,” she interrupted, her voice suddenly more forceful than before. She moved closer to you, her leg brushing against yours as she did. The proximity sent a jolt through your body, making your pulse quicken.

The closeness was something you both had always shared—laying side by side, pressing your legs together when you watched movies, when you talked about everything and nothing. But tonight, with everything hanging in the balance, it felt like so much more.

You stared at her for a long moment, the words you wanted to say stuck on your tongue. But then she spoke again, her voice quieter, more vulnerable this time.

“Promise me something,” she said, looking down at your intertwined legs. “Promise me you’ll never leave me. No matter how... messed up I get.”

You didn’t hesitate. “I promise.”

The air between you two felt thick now, like something unsaid was hanging there. But you couldn’t bring yourself to say it out loud yet. You couldn’t tell her what you were really feeling, not when the world seemed so uncertain.

You were so different. She was so different. And yet, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere but right here with her.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

“She kissed me once,” you admitted, pulling your legs closer to your face.

“Said it was practice."

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Madonna crooned from the cassette player, half-muffled by your bedroom pillow.

Like a virgin… touched for the very first time…

Natalie was sprawled next to you, one foot crossed over the other. Her flannel was sliding off one shoulder, eyes smudged with the kind of liner she never wiped off before crashing at your place. She had a joint in hand, laughing at something stupid you’d said about math class.

“Wanna practice?” she asked, not looking at you.

“Practice what?”

She raised a brow. “Kissing.”

You thought she was joking. But then she rolled over onto her side, facing you, close enough to smell the weed and grape soda on her breath.

You hesitated. “Okay.”

She leaned in like it was nothing. Like you were the one being weird about it. Her lips brushed yours, soft, slow, as if she’d done it a hundred times.

You didn’t even move at first. You just felt it—this terrible, perfect spark crawling up your spine. You kissed her back, and it felt like falling. You wanted to cry, and you didn’t know why.

When she pulled back, she grinned.

You wanted her to do it again.

And she did, again and again.

When she kissed you, it wasn’t playful. Not really. It was slow, searching. Her tongue moved against yours like she was memorizing it.

Later, she had pulled back, breathless, eyes darker than the night.

“Damn,” she whispered. “They don’t kiss like that.”

You didn’t sleep that night.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

“She kissed me again, later,” you told Coach, your voice cracking. “A bunch of times. And then she touched me.”

You didn’t mean too say it out loud, but it was already gone. Out in the cold air, hanging there like smoke.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

It had been late, after another party, when she’d stumbled into your car, laughing. Her eyeliner smeared, her voice sticky sweet with whiskey.

“You’re always so soft,” she murmured, leaning against you in the passenger seat, cheek pressed to your shoulder.

“You’re always so loud,” you said back, trying to steady your voice even though your hands were trembling on the wheel.

She laughed and turned her head, eyes glassy, breath warm on your skin.

“You ever think maybe I’m loud ‘cause I don’t wanna hear myself think?”

You didn’t know what to say, so you didn’t. Just drove her home in silence, the quiet between you almost unbearable.

That night, she left her bedroom door cracked open like she always did when she didn’t want to sleep alone. You followed, heart hammering like you were doing something wrong.

You helped her change. Her skirt was hitched too high, her shirt sliding down one shoulder. When she sat on the edge of her bed, legs loose and lazy, she reached for the strap of your sando, tugging them, letting it leave your shoulder.

“Wanna practice again?” she whispered, lips brushing yours.

Your breath hitched, your cheeks flushing. “Yeah,” you said, and kissed her.

God, you kissed her like it would be the last time. Like it had to count.

It started soft. Your lips, her tongue, the way she cupped the back of your neck. But she tasted like smoke and sugar and something that burned, and soon your sando was half off, her hands under your bra, skimming the bare skin of your sides.

She touched you like she meant it. Like she’d been thinking about it.

Her hand slid beneath your waistband, fingers grazing the elastic of your panties. Your hips jolted.

“Natalie…” you gasped, but it wasn’t a protest. It was a plea.

She paused, eyes locking with yours. “You want me to stop?”

You shook your head.

Her fingers dipped lower, slow and careful, until she brushed against the wet heat of you. You choked out a sound, half gasp, half whimper.

“God, you’re already soaked,” she said, voice low and rough, almost reverent.

She kissed your collarbone as she slid a finger inside, then two. Her touch was practiced, but gentle. She curled them just right, dragging them slow, deep, the heel of her hand pressing firm against your clit. You buried your face in her neck, biting down to muffle the moan tearing from your throat.

“Fuck,” you breathed. “Don’t stop.”

She didn’t. Her fingers worked you open, curling and stroking, coaxing you toward the edge until your thighs were shaking, your back arching, your hands twisted in her sheets.

You came like that, trembling in her lap, forehead pressed to hers, a quiet sob catching in your throat.

She kissed you after, messy and slow. Then she pushed you gently down onto the bed and climbed between your legs.

“Wait - ” you started, but her mouth was already there.

She kissed your thighs first, soft, dragging her teeth across the skin. Her hands pushed your legs open, steady and sure. And then-

Her tongue. Warm, slow, deliberate. She licked a long stripe up your slit, then circled your clit, teasing, tasting.

You cried out.

“Natalie -”

She moaned against you like she was drunk on it. Like she wanted to ruin you slow.

And she did.

The last thing you remembered before the flashback burned out was the sound you made. loud, raw, real - and the way she looked up at you from between your legs like you were something sacred, as she enjoyed

You never noticed but the way she looked at you, it was love.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

You looked down at your lap. Your hands were shaking.

“It was my first time,” you admitted.

Coach Ben nodded, listening intently.

You thought that was it—that the conversation would taper off into silence like everything else here did. But then he looked at you again, steady and quiet, like he was waiting for something to click.

“Maybe the love you’re looking for,” he said gently, “has always been in front of you. Waiting.”

You froze.

The fire popped. Your heart did too, in a different way.

He said it like he knew something you didn’t. Like he’d seen it in the way Natalie passed you her joint with soft fingers. The way she always sat just close enough that your knees touched. The way she looked at you when she thought you weren’t looking - tired, tender, like she didn’t know how to say don’t go.

“Maybe,” he added, “you’ve just been looking for it in the wrong people.”

Your throat burned. You didn’t have an answer.

Just Natalie’s name echoing through your chest like a secret you’d been too afraid to tell out loud.

Maybe he was right.

Maybe she’d always been right there.

Waiting.

And as you return to the cabin the, faint rise and fall of Natalie’s breathing as she lay curled up on the cot, her face relaxed in sleep.

There was space next to her, an empty spot on the edge of the blanket, clearly left for you.

You smiled softly to yourself, a strange warmth blooming in your chest. It was a small thing, but it meant the world to you.

As you moved closer, the cool night air from the door fading behind you, you hesitated. You knew what you were feeling now. You couldn’t ignore it anymore. You couldn’t hide from the truth.

Coach Ben’s words echoed in your mind—Maybe the love you're looking for has always been in front of you, waiting. You thought about it again, about how, all this time, you’d been searching for something that was never really gone.

It had always been Natalie.

You gently eased into the space beside her, sliding your arms around her waist and pulling her close. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake, her body fitting into yours like it was always meant to. You hugged her tightly from behind, feeling the warmth of her skin seep into yours.

And in the quiet of that moment, you realized what Coach Ben had meant. You’d been looking for love in all the wrong places, convinced that there was something out there for you, when all along it was right here. Right in front of you. Waiting.

Natalie.

The love you’d been searching for, the love you had been too scared to admit, was already yours.

And as you held her close, the world outside the cabin seemed so far away. The noise, the chaos, it all faded to nothing. All that mattered was the warmth of her body in your arms and the gentle sound of her breathing.

 Coach Ben had been right after all.

THE END

[redroses07]

i’d leave my man at the altar if any of them even sneezed in my general direction

[redroses07]

Do you think he knows how fine he is?

(he also is such a cutie pie)

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foragers ★ jackie taylor x fem!reader

you force jackie to go foraging with you and she decides to make the most out of your alone time

warnings: SMUT - dry humping, knee thing, biting, making out word count: 1400

"so...what are we doing out here again?" jackie groans from behind you, mindlessly following you deeper into the woods.

you sigh out of frustration, your eyes still fixed to the ground, looking for plants that might be edible.  you had explained this to her about a hundred times already.

"we're foraging," you say pointedly, crouching down to take a closer look at a random plant.

"oh, we're foraging," jackie mocks, raising her hands in faux surrender though your attention isn't anywhere near her.  "my bad," she says with a teasing laugh.

"can you be serious, for like, two seconds, jackie?" you ask, peeking over your shoulder at her. your face is the picture of irritation.

"um, no," she says, reaching down and tucking your hair behind your ear.  her hand affectionately holds the back of your neck.  "what's the point of this anyway?  we've been out here for hours and barely found anything."

her thumb soothingly strokes your skin, and you can't deny that it makes you feel a little more at ease.

"it doesn't matter.  we just need to put in the effort and show that we're contributing in some way," you say.

to jackie, sounds are coming out of your mouth, but she's more focused on the way your lips seem to move in slow-motion and the precious way you look up at her through fluttering eyelashes.

"the longer we're stuck here, the crazier everyone's gonna get.  we need to make sure we have some sort of role to play so no one has a reason to..."

"to what?  get rid of us?  kill us?  i think you're starting to go a little crazy," jackie says with that carefree smile of hers.

"yeah, maybe," you say, standing up to meet jackie face-to-face.  her hand still lingers on the back of your neck.  "but foraging is easy enough."

you weakly smile at her, but she can see the stress written between your brows.  you've been on edge since the plane crash, always worrying about something.  even though you tried your best to hide it, jackie could tell.

"why don't you just relax a little, huh?" she says, both her hands now finding your neck.  they trail downward, softly tracing over your collarbone, then your shoulders, then your sides.  there's an unmistakable excitement in her eyes.

"jackie," you warn, just before she grabs your hips and pulls you into her, eliciting a soft grunt from the back of your throat.  it only motivates her more.

"lemme help you relax," she says with a lopsided grin.

her hips push into yours as she turns you slightly and guides you backwards.  after nearly stumbling over a fallen branch, your back hits a tree trunk with a thump.

without another thought, jackie's lips attack your neck.  her lips eagerly kiss and suck on your fragile skin, leaving trails of saliva in their wake.  she felt you like this in weeks, so she's more desperate and sloppy than usual.  she wants to consume as much of you as she can, as quickly as you'll let her.

"jackie, someone could see," you say, sounding whinier than you intended, your hands tangling in her bouncy hair like second nature.

"we've been walking for hours, no one's out here," she reassures you, her rapsy voice barely above a whisper.  her fingers start to creep under your shirt, a cool contrast to your warm skin.   "besides, i haven't had you like this in forever," she groans.

she suddenly bites down on the column of your throat, causing you to hiss in response.

"jackie!"  her name leaves your lips, something between a reprimand and a moan, as you throw your head back against the tree.  "marks?"  it had always been something you guys were careful of back home.

"you're so whiny," she mumbles, and you can feel her smiling into your neck.  she loves it.  "forget about everyone else.  you can tell 'em we got attacked by a deer or something."

she bites down in a different spot, and you're about to protest, but her knee finds its way in between your legs and the words die in your throat.  jackie notices and looks up from your neck.  she can see the worries starting to fall from your face, replaced by pleasure.

jackie's hands find your bare back just above your waist.  she pulls you into her while slowly grinding her knee against the crotch of your jeans.  pride immediately washes over her as your mouth falls open and each breath becomes heavier than the last.

"that feels good, doesn't it?" she says, lips ghosting over yours.  she doesn't give you time to respond before she's repeating the same motion.

"mhm, feels good," you say, voice slightly higher pitch.  usually it would take a little more friction and a lot less layers to get you panting like this, but you've been so touch-starved since the crash that you're practically moaning every time jackie even grazes you.

your hands leave jackie's hair and grab her by the jacket to pull her into a needy kiss, tugging her so hard that one of her hands leaves your back to brace herself against the tree.  seeing you with a fistful of her varsity jacket drives her absolutely insane and you know it.  she sucks on your bottom lip hard enough to bruise and pushes her tongue into your mouth.

"jackie," you moan against her lips.  your hips are now working with her knee, trying to produce as much friction as possible.  "you're doing so good," you say, knowing she's a sucker for praise.

she feels herself throb in her cargo shorts, so hard that a quiet moan sneaks past her lips.

"fuck, i missed you," she curses, hand moving up your back under your shirt.  "wanna make you cum so bad."

you whimper at her words, starting to rut yourself against her leg even faster than before.  jackie helps you by pressing her knee even harder into your clothed cunt.  she feels like she's on fire watching how desperate you are to reach your release.  how desperate you are for her to help you get there.

"shit, m'gonna," you warn her after an embarrassingly short amount of time.  your grip tightens on her jacket.

"let go for me," she says, holding your face in her hand so that you can't run from her eye contact.  "please," she begs.  "i need it."  that does it.

"oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, don't stop," you moan, hips bucking into her knee one last time before you're arching and cumming in your panties.

she keeps grinding her knee into you, face beaming with satisfaction as she watches that familiar expression find your face.  she couldn't get enough of it, no matter how many times the two of you had done this.  her ego would be unbearable for the rest of the day knowing she was the one who made you feel like this.

only when you came down from your high did jackie stop.  before she could say anything, you found her lips in a long, gentler kiss.  when you pulled away, her eyes were still squeezed shut and her lips were attempting to follow yours.  you couldn't help but smile: she was just too cute.

once her eyes opened, she looked back at you with so much adoration.

"how was that?" she asked, slightly out of breath, though she already knew the answer.

"i needed that," you say, hand coming up to cradle her face.  she leaned into your touch.  "i missed you too."

she looks absolutely giddy to hear you say that, so much so that she leans in and gives your lips a quick peck.

"wasn't that so much better than looking for berries or whatever?" she asks, hands holding your waist.

"yeah, but we need to find something before we go back so we can at least pretend that we were productive," you say, thumb caressing her cheek.

"hey!  i considered that very productive, actually," she says with that smug, suggestive smirk of hers.

"i don't know if they will, though.  especially when they see these," you say, gesturing to your neck where a few bruises are beginning to form.

"sorry, i got excited," she shrugs, though she doesn't look very sorry.  nevertheless, she leans down and places a kiss on each bruise.  "you're too cute not to eat."

"yeah, yeah," you smile, playfully pushing her off of you.  "you can apologize by finding us some berries before sundown.  preferably ones that won't kill us."

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They are expecting💜

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Am I ovulating or is this way too real?

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OH YES

i think this is one of my best studies.... ^_^ 📚 // @rats4brainzzz

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canon

Silly HC that in some very stressful situation where Leo was super anxious and thinking about a million things, Hazel said "you are not thinking straight", Leo's instinct spoke louder and he accidentally said "Of course not, I'm bi".

Percy looks like he's going to say something else, just a lil bit confused, but stop.

Frank passes Piper 5 dollars, narrowing his eyes

Annabeth doesn't take her eyes off the map

Hazel blinks and replies "like....Bilingual?"

[redroses07]

Picture Perfect. // Chapter 1.

TBP!Gerard Way x AFAB!Reader.

A/n:

As of now, chapters will be posted once a week until I say otherwise.

Warnings:

Vomit, cursing, descriptions of gore.

Word count:

1.1k

"L/n? We need you to come in. Now." Franks' voice boomed through the speaker.

You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, sitting up in bed. You shivered, the late-night air seeping in through your window. You groaned and rolled over, checking the clock on your nightstand.

"It's two in the damn morning, Iero. Aren't there other people working?" Despite your meager protests, you peeled yourself out from under your comforter.

"You're gonna want to see this.." he trailed off. "I'll text you the address. Get here ASAP." He muttered before hanging up the phone.

You slipped on a pair of jeans and threw on a hoodie before running out of the door. You didn't bother turning on the radio as you drove. Sitting in silence, you thought over what couldn't wait until the morning. You found someplace to park on the side of the road before making your way up to the building.

The newest member of your crew, Gerard Way, was at the front door chatting with Iero.

You didn't particularly like Way. He always got under your skin and managed to annoy you more than anyone else.

He noticed you, and a smug smirk formed on his face. "Look who finally showed up."

"I was off duty, Way," you spat. "Fill me in." You mimicked Way, snapping on a pair of gloves.

Iero chewed on the toothpick hanging out of his mouth as he flipped through his notepad. "Family of six was murdered. All of them were still in their beds. Who knows how long they've been there? Definitely smells like a long time."

You squeezed through the duo, shoulder-checking Way on your way in. Iero wasn't wrong. You could smell the stench of death from the bottom of the stairs.

You climbed up the steps with hesitation. Once you finally made it to the top, the smell only got stronger. You slowly reached for the door handle when two hands gripped your hips. "Fuck!" You jumped, whipping around and coming face to face with Way. "What are you doing? Don't touch me," You shoved his hands off of you.

"I just wanted to tell you boss assigned us to this case. Together." He added.

You pursed your lips together. "Well, we need to get pictures before clean up gets here." You said plainly.

He smirked again, that stupid fucking smirk that you wanted to slap off of his face. Half of his face was illuminated by the light of the moon. He probably thought he looked so cute. You rolled your eyes and walked into the room.

Describing the scene as gruesome was an understatement. Two young girls laid on opposite sides of the room. You weren't even sure if they were girls, considering there was no skin left on either of their faces. The room was damp with rot, creating a stuffy atmosphere. You took a step closer in an attempt to get a better look. The head shifted as the body settled further. Your stomach dropped as a feeling of nausea washed over you. You pushed past Way, who didn't hesitate to follow you. You ran outside and dropped to your knees, blowing chunks in the front yard.

"Shit, L/n," Way mumbled, pulling back your hair as you continued to heave. "If you want me to take care of the photos, I will."

"Fuck you," you spat, wiping off your mouth. You pulled yourself back to a standing position, face pale and mouth dry. "We're both working on this case. I'm not letting you do this by yourself."

Concern was prominent on his face. His hazel eyes looked you up and down before muttering an 'okay.' He turned away and made his way back into the house, camera in hand.

Iero came over with a water bottle and a camera. "You okay to keep working?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." You mumbled a quick thank you before making your way back into the house.

This case was unlike anything you had seen before. Of course, you had seen some pretty gruesome shit. It was never this bad.

Detective Way being your partner didn't help either. He made you uneasy. Looking at him for too long made your stomach churn and your whole body heat up. You hated it. You hated him.

You shook the thought away as your shaky legs carried you back into the room.

You held your breath as you snapped a few different angles of both of the bodies. Way was searching the room for clues. Iero stayed outside to keep watch of the property. You could never be too safe in times like these.

Way had found nothing. God, could he be more useless? He silently made his way to the next room as you followed close behind him.

The next scene broke your heart even more. The mother was still nuzzled into the father's chest. There was a recurring theme; there was no flesh on their faces.

"What the fuck is going on?" Way mumbled under his breath.

"It's really obvious, Sherlock. This killer has some kind of kink for stealing peoples' faces." You glared at Way.

"But why?" He emphasized his question. "I mean, what's the point, L/n?"

"Fuck if I know.. not like I killed them." You scoffed, beginning on the repetitive cycle of taking pictures.

"L/n, I've got something." Your heart skipped a beat whenever Way's voice filled the dead silent room. He was kneeled, looking under the bed.

You walked over to him. "What is it?"

"A note. It's in.. morse code?" He questioned, handing it to you before turning his flashlight back to the floor.

"What the hell?" You muttered under your breath as you examined the neatly folded paper that read 'for the detectives.' You contorted your face in disgust. Way was right, the paper was littered with dots and dashes.

You slipped it into an evidence baggy. Your mind was filled with the easiest curse words in existence. You knew this case would be the death of you. You hoped not literally.

"What's on your mind, detective?" Way considered, a hint of distaste in his voice as he spoke.

You ignored him and turned away.

The rest of the night was filled with similar-looking obscenities. The rest of the family looked the same, including the infant lying helplessly in its cradle. To both your and Way's dismay, there was no more evidence.

You left after getting cleared by Iero. You didn't, and couldn't, say anything to Detective Way.

Paranoia hit you like a brick on the drive home. You knew there was something far more sinister than you could ever imagine behind this case, but what could it be?

Your mind was restless, shifting between visions of the bodies, the gore, and Way's face. His dumb fucking face and the bodies' lack thereof. You took a sip of your tea, sighing in defeat.

Even though you had to be officially at work in a few hours: there was no way you were going back to sleep.

[redroses07]

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specifically paramore and panic

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“Be kind”, and they’re a Trump supporter.

[redroses07]

Rest in peace Michelle. I truly hope she knew how much she was loved. She’s in gods hands now ♡

[redroses07]

Gerard Way fic may or may not be in the works…

[redroses07]

[redroses07]

when the anti-social nerd boy isn’t as anti-social as you thought…(he has more friends than me)

[redroses07]

thank you guys so much for 800!! i love you all!!