#I know I may come off as a little obsessive about it but the shrink-wrapped muscle look bothers me

[airyairyaucontraire]

A small detail I enjoyed in The Sea Beast, which I'm rewatching this evening: when the hunters shoot at a beast with arrows, the order given is not "fire" but "loose." You hear "fire" a lot in movies with historical or old-fashioned fantasy settings when archery is used in battle, but it's anachronistic/inauthentic - "fire" should be used only with firearms. Pre-firearms the order would be "loose" (these days mostly used as an adjective for the opposite of tight but can also be a verb meaning release) or "shoot."

[blogevaawrites]

Keeping to the schedule.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: angst, sad, marriage, divorce, smut

Summary: After seven years of being married, two daughters and a difficult divorce, they try to understand what went wrong and why they let that happen. 

Part I

“I’m so sorry to do this but we’re having problems with a few scenes. I won’t be at home until next week.” He said from the other side of the line. Since the divorce we have been being very strict with the custody agreement of our children.

“So, will you come to pick them up the next Friday?” I asked.

“Yes, I will be there. And again, I’m really sorry, I tried to do everything in my hands” I knew that he doesn’t like to change anything about the kids, he says we should try to give them as much stability as we can. I couldn’t agree more.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine.” I simply said.

We got married seven years ago, we had a happy marriage, but loneliness and exhaustion made me give up on our marriage. He started to spend more time away, accepting more projects in L.A or any part of the world but home. I guess home wasn’t what it used to be for him and for me because eventually I stopped complaining about his absence.

“I need to talk to you.” I said when I saw him getting out of the shower. I closed the door of the bathroom and l leaned on the sink. “About what? I’m kind of tired, can we leave it for tomorrow?” He said, drying himself with a towel. I was sick of it; I was being left to a side for so long that I didn’t hold it on.  “Not really.” He looked at me then, normally I don’t insist. “I filed for divorce.” His face went from confusion to anger quickly.

We fought, he got really mad. I knew I should have talk to him before doing it, but he was never around, I was mad and sad, I wasn’t thinking properly. He didn’t talk to me for four months after that night, he moved to his mother’s house and did everything in his hands to accelerate the process. I know I didn’t deal very well with all of that and either he did. Our relationship since then got even more complicate.

Our obsession with our kids’ stability grew after that. We both knew they were going suffer the most, at least Anna. She was almost six when all of that happened, she asked a few times, but we never gave her an answer she could understand. Emma was only four, she noticed that something was wrong but was too young to assimilate it.  

“Mom, Lindsay is having a sleepover this Thursday, and we don’t have school on Friday, can I go? Her mom will call you tomorrow to ask you, can I go, please?” Anna asked, taking my attention from the road as I drove us to home.

“Sure honey” I said with my eyes on the road.

“Dad is coming on Friday, right? I will tell her mom to bring me back in the morning” she always gets excited to see him, both do it.

“It’s not necessary honey, he probably will come to pick you up after dinner. I will pick you up to get lunch together at the park, what do you think?” she nodded enthusiastic, eating her sandwich.

Thursday comes quickly and Martha, Lindsay’s mom, picked Anna up. Emma got to sleep very early after a long afternoon at the park. I went down to watch a few minutes a TV show before to go to bed. The doorbell rang, startling me, it wasn’t late, but I wasn’t expecting anybody. When I got close to the door, I recognized the silhouette of the person behind the door.

“Hi, what are you doing here?”

“I wrapped the film early, I’m sorry if it is too late but I knew you wouldn’t mind. You can have the entire day to yourself tomorrow, in this way.”

“It’s fine, but Anna is not here, she’s at Lindsay’s house and Emma is already sleeping.” He looked devastated and it broke my heart. He usually doesn’t spent too long without seeing them. “You can see Emma if you want to.” I offered and he accepted quickly. He got into the house and went upstairs to Emma’s room.

After a few minutes, he came down to the kitchen where I was preparing things for tomorrow. I wouldn’t say our relationship was good, o was getting better. it was confusing. “How have you been? How was everything with the kids?” he asked from the doorframe. I turned around to see him and answered, “It was fine, no incidents.” I simply said. We looked each other for a while, we haven’t talk since we had sex the last time, he came to bring the girls back. He stayed for dinner and a while after, the girls went to sleep, we started to talk about them, about our past together, about us a couple. We kissed and one thing took us to another.

“I want to talk about the last time. I don’t want you to think I…” he started; I knew it didn’t mean anything for him, it was just sex, he has been avoiding me since then but him bringing the subject up made me mad and it hurt me a little.

“I know! Don’t worry! Let’s just forget about it.” I said walking to the front door.

“No, it’s just that we were kind of drunk and got emotional.” He started to say without following me.

“It was just sex. I get it! You made it very clear when you couldn’t wait to leave.” As soon as we were done, he got up from the bed and started to dress up. He told me it was late, and he had a thing to do in the morning, but I knew he was lying. He left me, naked in the bed, the one we shared for several years.  

“I didn’t want the girls to get confused.” He got closer to the door, shaking his head, and rubbing his face roughly with his hands.

“You didn’t want me to get confused.” His eyes got bigger, and I could see the anger growing in his face.

“You couldn’t care less about what I wanted so don’t tell me what my intentions were.”

“You made them very clear.”

He looked confused, but he moved quickly. “You always so understanding. But why don’t you just listen to me? I’m trying to …” He couldn’t say anything more.

“You’re right, it’s kind of late and there isn’t a reason for you to stay.” I interrupted him, he looked mad.

He took a deep breath and kept on “I’m picking the kids tomorrow’s morning” he informed me before walking out.

“They won’t be here until late afternoon.” I said back. He looked at me without saying anything and kept on his walking. I stood at the door, looking how he got in the car. He turned on the engine, and before driving away he looked at me through the window. “Thank God we’re divorced.”

When the topic isn’t our kids, it never goes well. I guess we’re still hurt.

I didn’t fully understand why he got so angry until I saw the pictures.

After he picked the girls the next day, I did some work and later I filled a glass with wine and turned on the television to pick up a film to watch but my phone rang.

“Hey hon! How are you doing?” Lily asked, with a worried voice that I didn’t get.

“Hey! Why are you asking like that? I’m pretty fine.” I said laughing.

“Well! I don’t know, I thought you will be kind of sad o maybe angry, if my ex-husband was dating with somebody after not even a year from our divorce, I would be ready to kill him.”

“What? What are you talking about? I mean he hadn’t told me anything, I don’t think he’s dating again.” I said quite confused.

“Shit! You haven’t seen it, have you?”

Right away, I googled him with the call waiting.

Chris Evans is off market again? The former superhero and the upcoming actress Rachel Welles spotted holding hands and getting affectionate.

He was trying to talk about our night together because he was going to tell me about her. I felt my heart shrinking. I guess I should have been ready for this, he was free to be with whoever he wanted but it hurt me.

“I’m sorry, girl. It must be weird and hurtful. If you need anything you know I’m right here, right?” she asked kindly.

“I’m fine. he’s free to be with anybody but I guess I wasn’t as much ready to see it as I thought.”

“Yeah, knowing something isn’t always mean assimilating it, right?”

“Right”

After the call I refilled my glass and went to sleep with a few tears in my cheeks.

Our relationship began so natural, and it went so fast. We met through common friends, we dated just for tree moths after he asked me to move on with him. We didn’t take long to get married either, we both just knew that it was the right decision. I really loved him, and I know he loved me too. It wasn’t a fantasy, but we were grown-ups when he met, we knew what we wanted for life, in a partner and we found it in each other.

He was a great husband, a great father and a great friend. I single tear fell through my cheek, remembering the beginning of our freefall.

“There’s not a good way to say this. I’m really sorry to tell this but, Mrs. Evans you had a miscarriage.” Doctor Lars said. I felt Chris’s hand in my knee, comforting me. I felt I couldn’t breathe. My heart broke in pieces. “But I’m six months pregnant, this usually happens during the first trimester. This can’t be true.” My mouth slurred. “Well, the actual name is a late-miscarriage, there are several things that may play a part in causing it so we need to do a few tests to find a cause. I know this isn’t easy, but these things can happen, and we can’t do anything to prevent it.” I touched my barely swollen belly, missing the movements of my baby. “What are we doing now?” Chris talked, taking care of the situation. “You will need to go through labour to give birth to you baby. I know this can be a very distressing time and you may be in shock but there’s not other way.” I could hear him breathe hardly before kissing my head.

We went through our worst nightmare. I gave birth to a baby I could take care of. Thankfully, after inducing the labour, the birth came quickly. We decided not to hold the baby. We thought it will be less traumatic in that way.

He went with me through all of that, but we changed. Everything changed.

Five days later, I came into our bedroom to see him packing his suitcase.

“What are you doing? I asked softly.

“I need to go to L.A for a few interviews and shoot a few scenes” I looked at him straightly. Not quite believing he was going to leave so early after everything. “Don’t worry, I asked my mother to come to help you with everything.” he said, seeing my expression. I didn’t want to be alone, I didn’t want his mom here, I wanted him. I caressed his back, calling his attention.

“Don’t go, please.” I muttered. “It will be just a couple days, two weeks max.” he said holding me in his arms.

“Two weeks?” that was so fucking long.

“Listen, I can really do anything. I’m sorry but it’s work. What you want me to do?” he tried to reason with me, in vain.

“Call Meghan and ask her to reschedule it. We have an appointment with Doctor Lars next week.” I didn’t like to complain about his job or ask him to not to do it, but I couldn’t go through that alone.

“Everything will be fine, call me after the appointment and tell me what she says. I will be here as soon as I can.” I pushed him away with my eyes watering.

“Okay” for the first time in our life together he was putting his family in a second place.

The worst thing it was that trip didn’t last 2 weeks, but 3 months. He told me that his next project was being moved forward, and nothing else. He left me alone in the worst moment of my life and I couldn’t forget it.  

After a few more glasses of wine, I took me phone and I called him.

“Hello” he said with a surprised voice. “What’s going on?”

“What was what you wanted to tell me last time? Hey, I know we just fuck but I’m actually in a relationship with some else and you must forget about it.” I slurred, mimicking him.

“You know it.” He said, I could hear him moving to another place. I guess he left the house.

“Of course, I do. Do you think I live under a rock?” I wasn’t jealous I was mad at him, at myself.

“Okay I get it you’re mad, but I wanted to talk…”

“What for? To say sorry for fucking me or to ask me to keep back of your new love.”

“No, it’s not like…”

“Why did you leave me? Why wasn’t I your priority anymore? I asked, removing the tears away from my face. My voice broke a few times, I was unable to keep myself still.

“Where are you? Are you drunk?” he asked hurriedly.

“It wasn’t my blame; I couldn’t have known it.” I kept talking.

“What are you talking about?” his voice was full of curiosity and confusion.

“We didn’t name him, he died without a name.” my face was completely wet, my arms were crossed around my stomach and my heart… I couldn’t feel my heart.

“Are you at home? Pease tell me where you are.” He asked desperately.

“Yes, I’m here.” I muttered before hanging up.

A few minutes later I heard the door opening, and his footsteps. I was in completely darkness, no TV, no lights, nothing but somehow, he knew exactly where I was.

“Hey! What’s going on? What happened?” he asked softly, sitting next to me in the half-furnished nursery.

“Why did you leave me?”

“Well, when you wife files for divorce, it’s actually kind of what you have do” he said with a sad smile in his face.

“You left me way before that.” I said quickly, he left me when we lost our baby. “We never talked about him.”

“I don’t think you are in an appropriate state to talk about him.” He said without looking at me.

“I’m fine. Don’t make excuses! You just don’t want to talk about him with me.”

“I don’t want to talk about him with nobody.”

“I’m not nobody.”

“Why is this so important now? It’s been a year since then, we are not together anymore...” he started to get up from the floor.

“You’re dating again…” I finished the sentence off for him “you told me you weren’t ready. You said you missed me, that you missed us.” I said, remembering what he told me when he was taking me to our bedroom between kisses and caresses.

His face looked confused and tired.

“I don’t get it. Why are so upset? You filed for divorce without telling me why, without giving me a chance to make it better. All I know is you felt neglected, but I didn’t do anything wrong. I thought we were just going through a rough patch, but I thought it was normal after all.” His voice was firmed, he wasn’t yelling me, but I bet he wanted. “I know you don’t think this but I’m not the bad guy here.” His eyes were red and watering. He never told me anything of this. He had been too angry to talk to me about anything.

He walked to the door, ready to leave me.

“You left me.” I said, calling his attention.  

“You already said that.” He barked back.  

“When I asked you to stay you left me for almost four months after I gave birth to my death son. I needed you Chris, and you rather work than be with your wife.” His face kept straight; he knew what I was talking about. I got up when I saw him get closer to me. He looked at me for minutes, as he wasn’t sure about his next words.

“I went to therapy. I didn’t come back home because I wasn’t stable, not because I was working, not because I wanted to leave, it was because I didn’t see another way to deal with everything. You were right when you said holding our baby it would be traumatic, it was.” I didn’t understand what he was talking about, we agreed on not to hold the baby when he was born but he cleared all up “I couldn’t help it, I saw him coming out of you as the same way Emma and Anna did. I needed to see him, and it was the worst thing I could have done, but it was my son.” His eyes never left mine when his body got much closer to me. “I lost my son too, honey. I couldn’t be there for you because I wasn’t handling in the right way.” I saw a single tear going down through his cheek. At least I wasn’t the only one crying.

“Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“Because you gave birth to him! How the fucking hell could I have told you I was the one losing his mind after that? I know I should have stayed with you but believe me, there wasn’t another option, I didn’t find another way.”  

[sugar-petals]

SuperM Fluff & NSFW Notes

↳ 🌹aka some of their romantic antics plus random 18+ imagines 👋

warnings ⚠️ rated (super) m, boyfriends hc, porn mentions, partial fem!reader, sex toys

FLUFF

since baekhyun knows how to make scented candles, he creates one for you as a birthday present with your favorite fragrances.

every entry in mark’s diary involves fond thoughts about you.

taemin kisses you more than his cat kkoongie on a daily basis so let that sink in. his smooch obsession is getting out of hand.

lucas, having giant fingers after all, learns how to knit in order to make you a warm scarf. he’s still a bit clumsy with it and had to call kun for advice, but the result is surprisingly proper and quickly becomes your favorite item. it’s a little huge but well, he thinks in his dimensions. lucas’ next project is a beanie.

ten overwhelms you with pet names. in fact, he seemingly seems to come up with a new one each day.

kai is a candlelight dinner, rose petals and music kinda guy. he does every old-school thing in the book.

taeyong can cuddle endlessly in bed. he just doesn’t wanna leave.

lucas gladly shares his sweaters. they’re ginormous so, perfect cuddle material.

baekhyun is already a fool. so — when he falls in love, he becomes an even bigger fool. or, the contrary happens: he becomes dead silent around his partner because he’s so enthralled. he can take this more seriously than you think.

mark likes to write little cards and many many texts to express his love.

lucas is the type who can help you put on your jeans when they were shrinking a bit too much in the dryer. he’s pretty sexy like that and things can get really touchy.

cheesy fucking kai, and there’s only one guy who would do this, has actually lowered himself over a puddle once so you would have a bridge. brushed it off like a daily workout rep.

not one shower missed without baekhyun joining you. yes, it’s not always sexy time, he likes it when you shampoo his hair and whisper sweet nothings. and obviously: it’ll all devolve to a laughing fit.

taeyong is the type who wants to be proposed to.

taemin will get a motorcycle license and take you for a frequent ride. he loves getting those kind of back hugs.

both ten and lucas are great at making bracelets. wayv’s dorm is fully equipped with charms, strings, and pearls, so expect matching ones for you.

we’ve seen it, that one’s his favorite move. kai wraps his hand around your shoulder when you walk together.

mark will ALWAYS share his melon.

making you swoon on a DVD evening is lucas’ favorite hobby. he will buy you the most sugary-sweet romance movies. he will often browse streaming sites to select the latest sentimental plots. all these dramas seem to have a male lead who is suspiciously tall and lanky.

if you allow him, taeyong customizes your white tees with his cute drawings.

since taemin swims in money thanks to his profession as the god of kpop (yes, this is a registered job name because i say so), he can fulfill you any wish. he’s stingy and pouty when the shinee hyungs can pay, and the motherfucker baekhyun is even richer since his albums have been taking off so he opens his mochi wallet when superm is gathered, but you... are a different case. taemin will humbly empty his entire pockets when he overhears you gushing over something. there’s a voice in his mind going: must splurge!!

mark loves christmas, you establish an annual tradition to stage a whole couple evening.

baekhyun likes to play charades and especially do karaoke with you. he’s always cutely wiggling his butt and dances like a drunk uncle. he hits the high notes anyway and makes sure you score 100 points.

taeyong can make out with you while at the same time making sure that the milk doesn’t get burned on the stove. kiss’n’stirr multitask tyong alert. gotta make sure the cocoa is served in time, you know.

all the members enjoy playing board games. yep, imagine the fun and sheer chaos.

lucas has the funniest laugh ever indeed. he’ll react to all your jokes, no matter how lame they might be. intensely reassuring.

taemin’s hand is basically glued to yours.

taeyong and mark are the kinds of boyfriends that spoil their partner with skincare. fancy a nice face massage with a nice fragrant oil?

baekhyun has been baking heart-shaped pizzas ever since you started dating. he just can’t make them round anymore.

mark will join you on anything you’re currently bingewatching. 

kai sometimes — only half-jokingly — goes down on both knees bowing forward with his hands on the ground just to show how much he wants to thank you. in case you didn’t notice: this guy treats you like a deity.

ten usually gets confused glances from the other members whenever he gets the current date wrong: he simply loses track of time with you.

lucas makes a habit of buying you flowers every other week. but on unpredictable occasions, and he arranges them in places you’d never expect.

taemin will build you a weird-looking snowman to make you laugh, and give it an even stranger name. ten will build one that looks like you. kai doesn’t build snowmen, he just stands there challenging you to throw snow balls at him.

mark will hang out with you at the beach constantly bringing his guitar. he’ll serenade you all the time.

returning from three months of touring, baekhyun has once climbed your balcony when your parents were in the other room. yep, he was that desperate to see you. somebody give this man a rope and helmet.

taeyong writes down heartfelt confessions on 365 folded slips of paper so you can open one every day. your reactions will range from ‘awwh!’ to straight-up tears.

ten does regular couple yoga with you. a mildly challenging form, not the circus acrobat version. he’ll do the difficult parts anyway. you can pretzel this guy up, he’ll do anything to make you laugh.

when it rains you hook your arm around his, and lucas always holds the umbrella. even the wildest gush of wind can’t make it turn inside out. you arrive home entirely dry. xuxi is so cute, he’s also a great source of cooling shadow in the summer without even trying.

taemin’s skinship overdrive doesn’t stop with endless hand-holding, back hugs and kisses. he wants to lay down in your lap whenever he can. he looks damn pretty with his hair splaying there. if you work on your laptop, you can pretty much count to ten and he’s already nestled there.

kai does pushups with you on his back. it’s a staple. each time he does one, he says ‘i love you’. he increases his count every day.

NSFW

it’s no secret that taeyong is great at acting or pulling off any outfit and costume. expect roleplay of the finest kind — literally. he looks good in a firefighter uniform. you’ll be burning up pretty much automatically.

taemin can’t keep his tongue in. it’s terrible. he’s always in the mood for head. his sloppy noises are the absolute worst, it turns you on way too fast.

lucas had some major problems finding condoms that fit him.

ten and taemin are so switchy, they have an unresolved power struggle going on. begs for a dominant third party to help them out.

kai owns expensive latex gear.

baekhyun may be the king of vocals and breath technique, but if you push him far enough he does get hoarse.

taemin often jokes how kai will one day break his dick from fucking too hard.

meanwhile, mark’s dick is already falling off – from fucking too often. this guy has some major hormones going for him. no surprise, a guy who can promote in four kpop groups at the same time is a stamina king.

taeyong likes eating pussy with another party involved. three’s a crowd my friend. sometimes it’s taemin who unleashes his spit waterfall power, sometimes it’s baekhyun who preoccupies himself with nibbling at the inner thigh while taeyong digs in.

taemin owns the most underwear.

mark takes valerian drops because he is so nervous in bed. it never really goes away, it’s his nature.

taeyong keeps a lube collection. a different flavor for all occasions. he likes associating certain scents with specific body parts.

kai has a heels kink. he literally goes wild over it.

taemin likes to have sex with favorite glasses on.

taeyong and kai are the most likely to cry during sex. baekhyun as well if you rough him up enough. 

mark gets rock hard the fastest, followed by kai. he’s a grower.

taeyong gets the best inspiration for a song when he gets a casual dick riding.

taemin watches extremely x-rated erotic thrillers and bdsm flicks that are heavy on the plot. he gets more invested in the characters and actors than you think. since his japanese is amazing? of course he also owns a giant 90s hentai collection. 

when he’s jerking off, baekhyun chokes himself. a) because he’d make too much noise otherwise and b) because asphyxiation is his favorite thing.

kai feels pleasure in his every cell. he cums the hardest. and, as you can expect, his body expresses it the most extremely, accurately, passionately. if you’ve seen it even once, you’ll never look at him the same again.

taemin has less experience than his discography claims, but more than you’d think. he researches sexual techniques as well. you can brace yourself.

mark has not just a tiger inside, but a freak inside, waiting to be unleashed.

sex while gaming is a go-to activity for baekhyun.

lucas has the best stamina when it comes to getting head.

taemin throws his head back during sex. and no, he doesn’t T-pose. i’m kidding — of course he does. but only when he’s on his back.

taeyong tends to grip a pillow when he cums.

or he humps one when he’s by himself.

ten has the best taste in sexy time playlists.

baekhyun has the best taste in singing his own playlist along.

oh, the things kai has bought at a gas station at 3AM.

baekhyun sucks strap the best. he can open his mouth the widest, drools a lot, and makes the best noises unsurprisingly.

how to turn on lee taemin? he likes getting slapped.

since he’s the most avid and most diverse eater, lucas’ sperm tastes the best. he’s shove 50 fruits into his system just to give you a sweet experience.

mark is absolutely a starfish. 

kai wears fishnet tops if you fancy it.

curiously, baekhyun out of all people doesn’t announce when he’s cumming. you’ll hear it, though.

taeyong’s dildo collection is one for the books.

taemin has visited a pro dominatrix a couple times. needless to say, he was the #1 favorite client at the dungeon. having fully submerged into a fantasy world, taemin was one whip crack away from falling in love with the mistress. but then covid happened and the venue closed.

mark’s dick looks really pretty.

taemin can grind on the strap at every humanly possible angle. he’s almost always ready to take it. he carries a prep kit.

kai — that fucker — knows how to make you wet the most with his bare hands. prepare for the thigh ride of your life, too.

taeyong, baekhyun, and taemin have the best arches. kai is coming for the top three as well. ten’s arch is so good, it can’t be considered one anymore.

baekhyun knows every adult movie out there. theoretically, nothing can shock him. in reality, he melts in your hands.

taeyong is so sexually active with you, he has quit eating garlic.

kai will exploit your muscle kink in any way he can.

taemin, being a devil, has that one button on his phone that he can press when you go out for dinner. he’s OBSESSED with getting you off. once you head home, it’s basically running down your thighs.

ten has once opened a condom with scissors to scare away a date that grew weird on him by the time it got to the do.

lucas is too tall for doing missionary normally.

this will surprise nobody: mark is great at constantly keeping up the dirty talk.

baekhyun’s car is sort of like a brothel on wheels. he can’t count how many times he got down and dirty in there. he cleans it all up by himself.

kai can technically grip you the hardest but he’s the gentlest and great at caressing the whole body.

taemin has the easiest time saying what precisely he wants. he is also the best people reader — most your wishes he can pretty intuit. taemin observes your interests well.

ten likes his hair pulled and makes angelic noises when you do so.

baekhyun likes camgirls and erotic chats with strangers online. he spends a lot of money for nsfw internet encounters.

[industriallyinsecure]

Do you still take requests? 👉👈 If so, would you like writing headcanons for a darling that doesn't understand the situation and is too trusting for their own good? Like, they got knocked out on the street by their yandere but when they wake up they believe that they just fainted on the street and the yandere is not their kidnapper but their "savior" looking after them while they were out cold?

I do still take requests! Unless it’s stated otherwise somewhere like the top of my blog or in the master list section, requests are always open!

Formaggio doesn't really know what to expect, but you wrapping his knuckles up and fretting over him like a hen was certainly not it. There’s a certain cheekiness to him, but nothing too overt. It’s hard for him to keep it a secret, so if you asked what happened he won’t hesitate to regale you with an exaggerated version of what happened. He really hopes you won’t ask, though. It’s hard for him to think on his feet when he actually needs to, but he always comes up with a witty deflection that keeps your mind off of it. Tries to use his wiles to keep you around for as long as possible until he is forced to shrink you and keep you tucked away in his underwear drawer.

It takes Illuso every ounce of self control he has to not burst out laughing. Instead he quickly puts on a concerned façade and acts like this was just a random act of kindness. He insists that you stay with him until he’s sure you won’t go blacking out again. You don’t exactly have a choice in the matter regardless because Illuso can schmooze anyone into getting what he wants. He forces friendship on you and, hey, why not just stay over here for a while? You live so close and he’s obviously just looking out for you. Soon enough, you have a very toxic attention whore of a ‘friend’ that insists on controlling every aspect of your life. But, he was looking out for you, right? He saved you that day. He must only want what’s best for you.

Pesci doesn’t really know what to do. It was a moment of panic. He calls Prosciutto and is crying over the phone until his big brother finds him and helps him deal with it. Soon, you’re whisked away to a hotel room while Prosciutto looks for nearby apartments that Pesci could afford. He can’t bring himself to settle in next to you while you sleep, the guilt is overwhelming. When you wake up, he’s overjoyed that he didn’t accidentally kill you and that you seem to like him as well! More accurately, you were thankful that he saved you from being killed or worse, but to Pesci anything positive meant that you obviously reciprocate his feelings. Like Illuso, a toxic co-dependent relationship forms and soon you find yourself at the mercy of his constant self deprecation and gaslighting.

This was worse than Prosciutto thought. Part of the reason he took you was because he didn’t trust you to not get taken advantage of. Better him than someone who had nefarious intentions (ahem), right? He handles the situation well for the most part and frequently has to stop himself from taking you by the shoulders and shaking you so hard your brain rattles around in your skull. The way you shyly snuggle into his shoulder and thank him profusely tugs at his heart and confirms that this was the right choice. He’d enjoy this gentle domesticity in the moment and deal with your tears later if he needed to. It would be easy to subtly age you and bring you back into his arms if you felt well enough to leave, chastising you about taking better care of yourself until you were ready to go home. It’s sort of munchausen by proxy, but he’s not delusional enough to believe there’s something legitimately wrong. He knows it’s artificial, but he does play it up when he sits by your bedside and gently dabs a cool cloth on your face.

Melone treats it like a Misery situation. ‘It’s storming so hard outside and you’re pretty roughed up. All the power lines are down and the hospitals are full. I’ll take care of you’. In reality, he used a throwaway Junior he made just for this occasion to break your leg and incapacitate you. He’s not stupid enough to reveal that he’s your stalker, though. He prefers the part of the Good Samaritan that took you in and is taking care of you. He’ll milk the situation for as long as possible until it turns into an actual Misery situation where he has to break your legs again to bring you back. When you wake up the second time, he’s much more comfortable being lovey dovey and smothering you with love and attention. The first time was a trial run, but now that he tested the waters, he’s more comfortable snuggling close and watching movies with you while you recover, and he might even rub your feet if they’re sore from disuse. If you end up falling for your caretaker, Melone will be overjoyed!

Ghiaccio is afraid you’ve caught on to his ruse and prepares to incapacitate you again. In his time in Passione, he’s learned that no one is what they seem. But you’re oddly compliant when he tells you that you can’t leave just yet. Not that you could find your way back to Firenze, he brought you to the Alps for a reason. Yeah, it was a shitty little place next to a sheep farm and it was cold as all hell (not that he personally minded), but with the low temperatures it would be easy to catch you. He concocts a lie about how he was visiting the city and he couldn’t just leave you there. And you believe him. He then tells you it would be a while before you could go back because the roads were iced over and he couldn’t get his car to start. And you believed him again. As long as you’d blindly believe his words, he could keep you snug and safely nestled away in a little Alpine village until you eventually return his love. You’re obligated to, after all he’s done.

Risotto is always in combat mode, never once letting his guard down. When he slips his arms around your waist to reciprocate your hug, he’s actually just preparing to overpower you and crush you under his weight. He does enjoy the warmth of your body snug against him and the way you nuzzle into his neck. It makes his heart ache when he realizes you weren’t the slightest bit scared of him, and only makes his obsession worse. He knows very well that part of the reason he’s the way he is (meaning yandere) is because of the social disconnect in his childhood because of how he looks. But all he sees is gratitude in your eyes, and it fills his cold, thought to be long dead heart with a giddiness befitting of a child. He can’t help it when Metallica springs into action when you leave, but he’s quick to catch you before you fall, tutting and informing you that your foot must've been hurt when you fell the first time. No worries, he’ll keep it wrapped up and keep you at his dingy little apartment that he may or may not have bought for the purpose of keeping you tucked away.

Sorbet and Gelato take advantage of the situation. Gelato tries to exaggerate what happened and make it seem like they saved you from an onslaught of mafiosi, but Sorbet reigns him in without giving too much away or letting you know that it’s a fabricated story. Gelato uses any opportunity to invade your personal space and cuddle up close to you under the guise of taking care of you. Sorbet is always more subdued in his affections, preferring to just check on you and take your temperature once in a while. But if you finally ask to go home, they’ll let you go. They always enjoy a game of cat and mouse.

[marshmallowprotection]

Write something self indulgent, coward (affectionate)

When his eyes met hers, she knew that that sensation that crawled down her spine wasn't a good one.

Ray was lovely in concept and even more comforting to imagine when she was very scared and lonely. When she felt so lost and hurt about the world. She saw herself in those vulnerable parts of him but being here, underneath his intoxicating and intense gaze left her feeling uneasy.

There was no explanation that she could give him to explain her circumstance, however.

How could she?

Would you believe anyone who was found unconscious on the outskirts of your cult of all things with a cell phone that held information on it with things that they shouldn't be aware of whatsoever?

Would you question reality or their sanity?

When awoke from however long she'd been sleeping, she was surprised to find herself in a dark room, laid back on a couch that didn't feel familiar.

She sat up and that's when she found herself in this situation, staring eye to eye to someone who was simply supposed to be a mere character in a game, not an actual person in the flesh.

She hurriedly rubbed at her eyes but no matter what she did, she could feel every touch and every motion. If it was a dream, it felt too real to be a dream.

His eyes seemed to glow under the blue lights from all the monitors. She couldn't help but gasp which drew his attention from the phone that he'd been staring at.

Her phone, she quickly realized.

There were a lot of flags tipping off in the back of her head and her stomach flopped with that feeling.

Out of everything she knew about Ray and poured her heart into about Ray, she knew it was only good in conceptual theory. Knowing someone as a character wasn't the same as being able to know a person, and that look in his eyes—

She knew that look very well and she knew what it meant. In a matter of seconds, she seemed to unpack her situation and how bad it was. She was in Mint Eye... she was with Ray, and Ray had her phone, which held all of the information to his life and the world around him.

That... it wasn't a good thing.

He was a hacker, too.

It didn't matter how good her passcode was. He likely broke into it to try and find information on why she was there. She wasn't a believer... she wouldn't have papers or IDs with them.

It'd leave him to check the phone, likely assuming that she was a spy or with his father. But, the sole fact that he hadn't said anything...

Now, that was the off-putting factor.

"Did you sleep well," his voice broke the silence as they maintained eye contact with each other. "You know, I hope so. I found you laying outside, in the gardens, all by yourself."

When he stood from his chair, she wanted to sink back into the fabric she was sitting on. She wanted to curl up on that couch and go into the darkness. She knew how dangerous Ray could be when he got it into his head that he wanted something.

That darkened look in his eyes slowly shifted into something saccharine. It made her heart flutter, dangerously. In many ways, it was her weakness. To be desired enough that someone would throw the world away just for you.

But that wasn't truly what Ray wanted to do. He didn't want to hurt others. It would kill him if he actually beat the RFA. She didn't have time to consider that or think about that. He was moving so fast that she couldn't think straight.

Ray kept talking, her phone was tucked away in his pocket as he strode across the room, "I assumed you to be a believer that got lost after their ceremony, but... to my surprise, and you're not a believer at all. In fact, you are... something else entirely."

She swallowed. Her voice wasn't listening to her and she opened her mouth, but words didn't follow. It was empty. What could she even say to him right now? What did he see? What did he know?

Ray paused as he stopped in front of her, leaning down to invade her space second by second, his hand reaching forward to grasp at her chin and nudge it back so she'd met his eyes. It was tender but very firm.

She'd looked at him with that deer in the headlights expression. His face was unreadable, but sheer intensity alone made her shiver.

"I don't know how to feel about this. You knowing everything about me, that is. Yet, you invoke such beautiful words of understanding of my pain and of my life. You seem to know me better than I know myself," his breath fanned against her cheek. "I never thought that the heavens were real, but they sent me an angel... an angel to help me finalize my revenge on that liar and that traitor."

"You understand me, you know everything that I've been trying to do, and you know what I want more than anything... I've seen it. I've read it. I never thought someone could care for someone like me, but... hahaha... hahahaha... I'm sorry, this must be very-very overwhelming, princess. I'm getting ahead of myself, but my heart is beating is so fast, and... all I can think about is how I've been given you, and all of these secrets..."

Her heart dropped as he leaned a little closer, the space between them shrinking by the minute.

"My heart is beating so fast... nobody's ever understood me the way you do. I'll admit... it was frightening at first to realize that someone can know so much about you but... you understand me. You know what I want. You've put care into knowing me... better than I know myself. All I see now... I see it now... I see what I've been given. You've handed me the keys to paradise by coming to me."

"You know everything... you know how to win... you've given me this blessing. I see it now, it's like a fairytale, isn't it, princess? I've never felt this confident before, but I've never had someone like you etch words of my goals so clearly the way you do... hahaha... hahaha."

"I don't even feel upset anymore that you know everything about me because I realize that this isn't wrong... this was always meant to be, princess."

"My heart... I've never felt this alive. Is this the power of your words? We may have just met for the first time... but I know it... I know it... I know it... you're the one... you're the one. You're the one that I've been looking for to help me achieve paradise. You've seen it, you've seen all of my past, present, and future. You've etched it. You've given it to me and protected me."

"When my Savior hears about our guaranteed success to paradise... she'll let me keep you," her stomach twisted when he said it like that. Ray wrapped her hands with his, that look in his eyes left her head spinning.

Keep you.

"Wouldn't you like that? Oh, no... of course, you would. I've seen it. You want me to keep you. You're just like me... you're obsessed... you know this thundering feeling of desire... and you want me to win... you want me to be strong..."

Her words twisted in her throat as she managed, "R—R—Ray, wait."

His lips curled into a smile that seemed to cement her fate. "That settles it, then, doesn't it? The paradise ahead... it can be... truly our paradise... you painted a wonderful picture. Don't you want to let me create it? I know you do... why else would God bring you to me? Why else would he bring me an oracle who sees my vision? Who sees exactly what I desire?"

"Why else would you come to me? Why else would this happen? It's a sign... it's a sign of our victory. I can't wait... I can't wait... so, let me know what you're feeling, Kaitlyn. Because... I've seen into your heart but now I want to hear it in your voice... this fairytale you've spun me, I'll make it mine."

[roxybefab]

Half Dead

Art belongs to @forgivemeimmafloof

Thank you for the request, @florindaxx , I really enjoyed writing this :3

You were horrified of Sans the Skeleton.

And it was understandable, considering the first thing he tried to do when you met him was to chop your head off your shoulders.

You were so sure you were going to die that day, since a goat lady and a flower both attempted to murder you. And then a tall, broad and scary skeleton with a crack in his skull and sharp canines the size of your fingers was attempting it as well.

You had every right to be terrified.

That same day, you had ran away from Sans and hid behind a snow poff, whole body wrapped around yourself as you attempted to warm yourself.

When another skeleton, as tall as the first but thin and silly looking, found your trembling form.

And when he saw you, you started to cry. Begging him to not kill you and telling him that you didn’t want to die.

He didn’t kill you and asked to be your friend, which you complied to. He said his name was Papyrus and that Sans was his brother. He said that he wouldn’t let Sans hurt you.

Then he noticed your pale skin and blue lips and asked if you were okay. And then you passed out on him

When you awoke, you realized you were on a couch and had in front of a fireplace. And next to you was Papyrus, placing a third blanket on your small human body. You immediately thanked the skeleton and searched your bag that had been on you the whole time, and had found a full box of granola bars. And gave him four, which had left him excited and happy. Then the door had burst open and in lumbered Sans the Skeleton. The moment his red pupil had seen you, he had let out a loud roar and attempted, once again, to use his axe to cut your head off.

Papyrus had stopped him immediately, exclaiming that you had food and that he should try the granola bars.

Which left the both of them happy once they had one and realized just how good it was to have actual food again.

Sans almost immediately saw you differently and became obsessed with you, watching as you interacted with his brother and how you always have them food when they wanted some.

Your bag had an endless supply of snacks and candy.

It was another day of you living in the skelebros home with them. And you and Sans had been getting along for a while now. Now that you think about it, ever since he started to warm up to you, you have been leaving little extra snacks in front of his door in hopes of him understanding that you cared for him. And it seemed he understood because he actually treated you like an equal individual most of the time.

He kinda reminds me of a bear or a big dog.. you thought, smiling at the thought. He did occasionally act like one, chewing on many things like his pillow or this piece of wood that he found outside. You wondered what it was like to have the urge to bite things most of the time but discarded that idea almost immediately.

Sans was huge, honestly, and most of the time you would imagine what a hug would be like.

Not to mention his hands fully covered yours whenever you handed something to him.

And today, you were planning on giving him something better. In your backpack, you happened to have a bottle of ketchup which made you all giddy because he loves the stuff. Knowing it was a big deal to share food with another, you were hoping he’d finally warm up to you 100% and that you’d be able to be on friendly conditions afterwards. So you went off in search of him, checking his room and the living room.

Then you went to his brother’s room.

You were so excited to see the happy look on his face when you gave it to him. You were so sure that he’d stopped thinking about killing you and you were pretty fucking positive that he’d care for you.

Upon arriving at his door, you raised a hand to knock, but heard voices on the other side. Papyrus’ and Sans’ to be precise. Now, it wasn’t abnormal for them to be speaking together, they were siblings after all, but the fact that they were speaking in hushed whispers made you curious.

Papyrus was never quiet.

Sans voice slowly caught your ears as you pressed your head against the door, listening to their conversation.

“paps.. bro..”

“Admit it, Sans, you like her!”

“no, i don’t.”

“Admit it!”

“no.”

“Admit it, Sans!”

“i want to kill her, paps. that’s the only reason i’ve been getting closer to her.”

Silence.

You heart paused it’s beating and you felt your arms start to tremble. Your (e/c) eyes watered and your throat clenched up.

A quiet whimper left your lips and you suddenly felt the same way as you had felt when you first arrived in the Underground. Scared, nervous, and untrusting. And then it hit you hard, the shock wearing off as you realized something.

Sans wanted to kill you.

He was simply tricking you.

You couldn’t breathe anymore at this point, feeling as if someone had punched you in the gut and knocked all the breath out of you. Once everything finally clicked in your head, you dropped the ketchup bottle with a quiet ‘THUD’ and shakily turned, a loud sob leaving your lips before sprinting down the hall and down the stairs and out the door. Forgetting your coat and bag, you heard muffled cursing as you sprinted through Snowdin.

He was just using me! You thought, remembering all the sweet things he’d do like getting you little gifts or simply carrying you to bed at night.

Or that time he told you what had happened that gave him the huge injury in his skull.

God, he had even cried when he explained what had happened! You had thought he trusted you already! But he was simply saying it to get you to trust him more.

Out of nowhere, you felt your soul being pulled out of you and turned to see Lesser Dog glaring at you.

You didn’t want to kill anyone.

Oh no.. you thought as he launched an attack at you.

.....

....

...

..

.

“i seriously messed up..” Sans muttered, pacing back and forth in his room as he looked out the window.

she should be back by now..

It’s been a day since he last saw you and he was actually beginning to worry.

Why did he say that? He obviously didn’t mean it, he had just blurted it out!

Why did you have to be looking for him at the exact same moment that his brother was trying to get him to admit his love for the you? Why couldn’t he just agree and let his brother be happy and keep you happy as well?

“hey, pap, i’m goin’ out..” he called out, hearing nothing but silence.

Oh yeah.. Papyrus was out looking for you too. Sighing, the huge skeleton slowly went out in search of you, remembering what had happened.

“paps.. bro..” he muttered his embarrassment clear as he looked away from his brother. His single red pupil darted to the door and back to his brother as Papyrus gave him a determined look.

“Admit it, Sans, you like her!” The younger yet taller skeleton was actually whispering. Something that really confused Sans cause he was rarely ever quiet.

“no, i don’t.” Sans’ face was glowing a deep red as he looked away from his smirking brother. He had no idea why he couldn’t just admit it. Papyrus would leave him alone and he may have a chance to be with you.

But they both were so damn stubborn.

“Admit it!”

He was feeling irritation crawling on his back at this point.

“no.”

And he knew he was going to say something to disappoint Papyrus.

“Admit it, Sans!”

“i want to kill her, paps. that’s the only reason i’ve been getting closer to her.” His face was bright red, embarrassment clear on his face as he let himself blurt it out.

Oh, how he regretted it so much.

That’s when the other skeleton had gone quiet. He had no idea why he said something like that but it didn’t matter because seconds later, he heard a whimper coming from the other side of the door.

Sans froze like a deer in headlights, his only pupil shrinking into a pinprick as he realized who was on the other side of the door.

There was a quiet ‘THUD’ and then a loud sob, followed by the sounds of footsteps running away.

Many curses left his ‘mouth’ as he began to walk towards the door before an arm stopped him.

“I’ll look for her, Sans.” Papyrus said, looking at his brother with a sad look before walking out of the room.

He felt like an idiot, knowing that a defenseless and terrified human was most likely on the verge of being killed. He was scared that you were already dead.

He had to find you.

.....

....

...

..

.

It was cold, too cold for you.

You were full on trembling and had managed to escape Lesser Dog and a few others. Everyone wanted you dead, it was no secret. The fact that your body was cold made you slower, however, and led to you getting hit easily.

But despite everything, you were thinking about Papyrus. He was so sweet and silly and cared about you. He was actually the only good thing down here. He didn’t try to eat you or kill you.

Then you realized something and the fear came hurtling back at you; you currently only had 1 HP.

You were full on terrified now, the thought of being killed making you paranoid that someone was following you.

Before your soul was pulled out of your body..

“hey, kiddo..”

No.. The person who wants to kill me for good had to be him..

Slowly, you turned to the bear-like skeleton, trembling and cowering before him.

Sans felt a pang of guilt hit him where his heart should be, his only pupil widening at the sight of your body.

Cuts and blood covered your arms, your hair was disheveled and your lips were blue.

He was sure that that wasn’t normal for humans.

“(y/n).. listen to me.” He whispered, stepping closer to you.

You flinched, eyes wide as he kept walking closer to you. But you obeyed, waiting to hear him out.

“I-I.. I heard that you wanted to kill me..” you confessed, eyes looking away from him before your gaze met his. He was staring down at you with a sad look, transparent red tears forming in his eyes as he gently lifted a hand to cup your cheek.

He hated seeing you like this, especially after how much you had improved since he had met you.

His sharp phalanges were unnaturally warm and soft, claws barely grazing your skin as he looked down at you. He could tell you were scared of what he was planning on doing but he knew what to do to make you relax.

“i.. i won’t hurt you.. i don’t know why i said that.. i didn’t mean it..” he whispered to you, his other hand gently gripping your waist and guiding you closer to him. Slowly, you settled into his comfortable grasp and lay your head against his chest, feeling a bit safer. A hand ran through your hair and seconds later you felt yourself being picked up.

He carried you all the way back to his and Papyrus’ home, making sure to keep you hidden in his arms. He also made sure that his huge hoodie managed to cover your body in hopes of you warming up a bit.

When he noticed that your lips weren’t that blue color anymore, he relaxed a bit as well.

Papyrus was so damn happy to see you safe and alive. And he immediately gave you a hug, not letting you go for hours.

Currently, he was off in search of a gift for you and you were left with Sans, who had insisted that he healed you.

Your HP was full and you were busy snuggling up to the giant bear.

“so..” His voice got your attention quickly and you looked up at him, “you heard paps trying to get me to admit something.. right?”

Your response is a nod, which makes him sigh before he gently sits up and makes you turn to look at him.

“well, he wanted me to admit that i liked you. as more than friends.” He sighs as you stare at him, red creeping up to his face as he continues talking, “and honestly.. he has a point. as you know, at first i was tricking you. but i completely forgot about it after i told you about the incident. and i.. i actually do.. like you that way.” He managed to choke out, face completely red at this point as he looked down at you.

A wide smile formed on your face before you sprung up and wrapped your arms around him, quietly squealing.

He was confused to say the least.

“I like you, too, dum dum! I made it so obvious!” You exclaimed, calming down and sitting back down. Your smile was still on your face and you noticed him starting to smile as well.

“you.. you like m-me? are you.. are you sure?” He managed out, watching you nod giddily.

“Yes! You’re adorable and sweet and I don’t think I’ve met anyone like you, Sans!” You exclaimed, just as he visibly relaxed.

He chuckled as you hugged his arm and he decided something at that moment.

His phalanges gently gripped your chin and tilted your head up to look at him, his red pupil wide and you managed to see it flickering to a heart before back to normal.

And slowly, he began to lean in, giving you enough time to move away if you didn’t feel comfortable but why would you? Your heart beat picked up it’s speed and your face flushed a bit as he paused centimeters away from your lips. He looked troubled and you knew why.

Chuckling, you moved forward and your lips met his teeth. His teeth felt strange against your lips, they were soft and warm but also hard at the same time.

His phalanges lowered and gripped your waist, your arms slowly wrapping around his neck as it got a bit more passionate.

Seconds later, the door burst open and you guys pulled away.

“ABOUT TIME!” Papyrus said and walked towards you with his gift.

A giggle left your lips at Sans’ red face and you slowly leaned up and picked his teeth.

You might love him, now that you think about it.

Other Masterlist

[theliterarywolf]

How was the sequel to Tales from The Hood, a shitshow?

The original Tales from the Hood, while having some campy horror elements, still managed to present its stories and tone competently while still incorporating themes of struggles of black Americans in urban areas. 

Examples: 

A black politician who’s been trying to fight against police corruption gets beaten to death and injected with drugs post-mortem by said corrupt cops to slander his name. The politician returns from the dead to exact vengeance. Obviously this short tackles police brutality and corruption.

A little boy and his mother who are constantly beaten and abused by what he draws and identifies as a ‘monster’ who, it turns out, is the mother’s new boyfriend. The theme here is Domestic Violence and how often people try to brush it under the rug as just a way of life in the community. 

A former klansman-turned senator buys a building called ‘The Dollhouse’ that is of high historical significance to the local black community, despite their wishes and complaints, to serve as the headquarters for his racist campaign to become governor. The house in of itself was where a confederate-supporter, after the loss of the Civil War, decided to murder all of his slaves rather than see them freed. Their restless souls haunted the place until a ‘voodoo woman’ managed to calm their souls and place them into dolls. You can pretty much guess where this is going and the themes.

The final entry centers around a gang-member who, after getting hunted and shot down by rival gang-members, is taken into police custody and is given one last chance for freedom by a doctor’s new, radical behavioral therapy program. Said therapy takes a note right out of A Clockwork Orange and bombards our main character with alternating images of brutal gang-violence and KKK lynchings. After which, he is berated with apparitions of all the people he’s shot and killed; including a little girl who was a victim during one of his drive-by shootings. Of course, this kind of therapy will only be successful if the subject shows some remorse...

And all of this is wrapped in a framing device of three gang-members trying to find some drugs at a funeral-home, even harassing the funeral-director, which turns out to be a portal into hell.

... *deep breath*

I have to do a ‘Read More’ because this post got long. But I implore you guys to read on to see the abyss of insanity and bad directions that were taken in regards to the sequel of this movie. Please.

The sequel decided to throw ALL NUANCE AND TACT out of the window and give us such wonderful stories as: 

A white girl and a black girl are on a road-trip and decide to go to the... ugh... Museum of Negrosity where the owner chastises them on thinking that the uncomfortable racist memorabilia he owns (collections of minstrel show cartoons, golliwog and pickaninny dolls) are things of the past instead of acknowledging them as parts of America’s racist past. And, for some reason, the white girl is obsessed with buying one of the golliwog dolls because she had one when she was little. Anyway, they sneak back in later with the white girl’s brother who happens to be the black girl’s boyfriend, so they can steal one of the dolls. Through hijinks, the doll comes to life and grows to the size of a human being. The brother/boyfriend gets whipped to death, the black girl gets cut in half by a minstrel-colored guillotine, and the white girl... Fucks the giant golliwog doll, gets pregnant, and a few days later, has her stomach torn open as a bunch of baby versions of the doll go flying out everywhere.

Some gang-members track down a former pimp who’s changed his ways to try and shake him down for some owed money. He doesn’t comply, so they kill him but, golly-gee! How are they going to get the money now~? Oh, I know! Hold a scam medium hostage so he can perform a seance to talk to the pimp to find out about the money. But, oh no~ It looks like the medium’s powers decide to actually work this time~ Ooh~

Two douchebags hookup with two hot chicks and, after the world’s worst game of Cards Against Humanity, they decide to roofie the girls so they can record themselves raping them so they can post it to ‘le dark web’. ... Lo’ and behold, the girls turn out to be vampires who were playing 4D chess to rope the two douchebags in so they can use them for their own recording-something-brutal-to-post-online scheme. 

And... The LAST one. Oh my God, the LAST ONE. *deep breath* Okay.

So we follow a black republican councilman who is married to a white woman and they’re expecting a baby after a long line of miscarriages. But the wife is having weird bouts of bad dreams and insomnia. What are the bad dreams about? 

... I need you guys to understand. That I am not shitposting when I type the following words. *deep breath* Okay. 

The wife is being haunted by the ghost of Emmett Till telling her that she doesn’t deserve to have her baby. You know? Emmett Till? The victim of one of the most brutal, horrific murders in America due to one of the most disgusting, vile acts of racism? THAT EMMETT TILL?!

So..! The black councilman is working for a white politician who... I’m just going to put a direct quote from the movie so you can get where they were coming from.

“That man wants to close down ten more voting locations, all of them in black districts!”

Anyway, after a house-call from a doctor who brushes off the dreams as hormones, the councilman hosts a party for the politician who’s running slogan is ‘Let’s take Mississippi back!’ Gee-golly-willickers! Can’t imagine where they were coming from with that one!!

So the party goes on, the politician even congratulating our councilman on his ‘white wife’, but said wife rushes downstairs after having another dream; ranting about ‘that boy from the field has decided to LIVE! And if he lives, our baby’s going to die!’ And she runs outside with a machete to try and kill the ghost of Emmett Till (who, again, very real person and victim of racist brutality). 

So the councilman’s mother and the local voodoo expert drive up and the voodoo expert tells the councilman that Emmett Till is trying to talk to him about the nature of sacrifice. The next day, the wife is talking about how her stomach is getting smaller, but the councilman doesn’t want to hear any of it and calls the doctor again. And, guys..?! If shit hadn’t jumped the rails before?! The train just starts doing cartwheels from here. 

The doctor is suspiciously short-tempered with the politician this time around and he does examine the wife to confirm that her stomach is indeed shrinking. However, when he’s told that the councilman is the father, he storms out and snaps “I don’t work for coloreds!” 

Then the wife runs out of bed and tells the doctor that the councilman isn’t her husband and that he kidnapped and raped her. So both the wife and the doctor drive off and the councilman realizes that the world has somehow gone back to the era of Jim Crow. 

... Oooh my gosh, typing this is making me want to commit toaster-bath but it gets so much worse..!

So, after the voodoo expert comes to chastise the councilman about not ‘respecting the sacrifices that have been gifted to you’, he is able to see the ghost of Emmett Till (who was a real person, why is this happening..?!) who is there to tell him that he’s decided that he wants to live. Which means that the world will never see the brutal images of his body at his funeral and that will cause a Butterfly Effect in history that will make it so that the Civil Rights Movement never happened. 

You may be questioning the logistics of this, but don’t worry! The ghosts of the girls killed in the 1963 16th Street Baptist Church Bombing in Birmingham come to explain and further berate the councilman about ‘respecting the sacrifices that have been gifted to him’ and working for a racist politician. 

But wait! There’s more! *whines* I keep crying out to God but he won’t answer...

They’re soon joined by the ghosts of the three Freedom Riders who were killed during the Mississippi Burning Murders, the ghost of Civil Rights Activist Medgar Evers, and DR. MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR. 

Not to mention several other unnamed figures who walk up while everyone else starts chanting about ‘respecting the sacrifices that have been gifted to you’, who look like Rosa Parks and Frederick Douglass, just to name a few. 

... I need a drink. I need a cold, stiff drink. ... Almost done. 

So, in comes the Klan. You know, the white-robed bastards; I hear they have an outreach center a few cities away from me. Sure, fine, whatever. The wife is leading them along with the white politician who hits the councilman’s mother in the face with a baton and Emmett Till stops time just as reinforcements show up to tell the councilman that, in order for everything to go back to normal, he has to join the ranks of those who sacrificed. 

“If what you want is worth us dying for, how come its not worth you dying for?!”

And, at first, the councilman disagrees; even being dragged away by Klansmen. However! It’s his wife angrily spitting in his face that makes him realize that this world isn’t the world he wants to live in. So he runs over to Emmett Till to tell him that he will join him... And then he’s beaten to death, becoming a sacrifice to get the world back to normal. And, once it is, his spirit joins Emmett Till’s and walks off into the great beyond. 

So! Not only did this schlocky, B-movie horror movie sequel decide to use a REAL LIFE VICTIM of racism-driven brutality as a story-device, but it also wants to put forth the message that the people who lost their lives during the Civil Rights Movement? Yeah, they HAD to die! Otherwise the Civil Rights Movement would never have happened~!

You see why I hate the sequel to Tales from the Hood so much? Not even mentioning the terrible framing segments of a racial-profiling robot being told these stories so it knows what ‘criminals’ to go after, but this movie is just a temple of ‘WHY?! WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?!?!?!’

[myheroacademiashorts]

Heartbreak - Part 3

Prompt: Part 3 of “Heartbreak”... Pretty much just a confrontation from Mina and Bakugou after finding out that you’ve been dating Shinso. (Requested by @hains-j )

Rating: Fluff, Little Angst, and Scary Reader >:o

Word Count: 3,349

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Of course, after his confession, you and Shinso began dating immediately. You were scared to tell too many people, and your new boyfriend didn’t mind keeping your relationship on the down-low; you confided in Midoriya and Ochaco, but that was all. And it was already normal for you to cling yourself to Shinso while walking through the school hallways, or hang out in each other’s rooms… Neither of you were obsessed with PDA, so that was easy to avoid as well. You were only able to stay hidden under the radar for a week, however; then, the news spread like wildfire.

The one who realized the two of you had started dating was Kaminari, who easily noticed how Shinso tensed up whenever the electric blonde shamelessly shot pickup lines in your direction, or how your eyes always drifted to Shinso’s lips whenever he spoke. That’s what he had told you, anyways, but you had the sneaking suspicion that Midoriya had accidentally let something slip; although he was a great friend, he was absolutely terrible with keeping secrets. Not that you were too angry… You knew the truth would come out sooner or later, but a part of you wanted Shinso all to yourself. Now you’d have to share him with your curious friends. Not to mention a certain hot-head would be finding out, and his reaction to the news would be unpredictable even to you.

Mina had been avoiding you like the plague ever since you’d broken up with Bakugou, shrinking away whenever you rose your voice and avoiding your eyes. She still clung to Bakugou, much to his annoyance, and their friend group still accepted her. You had asked them to. While you were pissed with her, that didn’t mean that everyone else had to hate her too. That wouldn’t be fair. And even then, it wasn’t like you and her were best friends to begin with; the only reason you had begun talking to her was because of Bakugou, but since that had ended, you had no good reason to keep contact with her. Especially after what she had done.

You walked into class the next day, Shinso already on his way to his own room as you slid into your desk, not noticing the pointed looks from the classmates that had already gathered there. Ochaco was the first to approach you, face pale. “(Y/N), I’m so sorry, I swear I didn’t tell anyone!” She murmured, and you knew what she was talking about before she could explain. You sighed, glancing over the others in the room, before turning back to her with a smile. “It’s fine. Kaminari found out, so he’s probably the one who blabbed.”

Tsuyu was close behind your friend, and she sat on top of the desk beside yours. “So when did you and Shinso start dating, ribbit?”

“So it’s true?”

“Woah, (Y/N) is dating Shinso?”

“That’s so cute!”

“When can we meet him? I wanna talk to your new lover!”

The questions and comments quickly flooded in, and soon you were surrounded. “Only a week ago, it’s true, and soon. I wanted to keep it quiet for a bit longer, but…” You shot a playful glare to Kaminari, who grinned in reply. Your phone dinged, and you glanced down to it, smiling when you see who’s sent it.

“Oooo, is that him?” Jirou teased, and you lightly shoved her shoulder away as she leaned towards your phone to get a closer look. Before you could reply, the door swung open with a thundering bang, and everyone’s attention moved from you to it. Bakugou looked more pissed than usual, but avoided eye contact as he stomped into the room, dropping into his seat and glaring at the whiteboard. Ochaco leaned closer to you. “Jeez, who rubbed him the wrong way this morning?” She whispered, and you cracked a small smile.

“Alright, alright. Everyone get into your seats.” Aizawa slinked into the room, his yellow sleeping bag already wrapped around his frame. “(Y/N), congrats on moving forward with your life, so forth and so forth. Everyone come up and grab a worksheet, make sure to turn it in by the end of class. And yes, you can work with others on this.” Momo’s hand dropped back to her side, and before she could formulate another question, the tired teacher had zipped up his bag and was fast asleep on the floor. Ochaco smiled, pumping a fist in the air. “Nice! Midoriya, can you grab us the sheets from the front?” She smiled sweetly at the stuttering boy, and he turned even more red when she thanked him with a brush of her hand against his. Man, he’s hopeless you thought to yourself, shaking your head with a grin as you started on the worksheet.

You worked contently for a few minutes with Midoriya, Ochaco, Tenya, and a few other friends before someone to your right pointedly cleared their throat. Reluctantly, you shifted your attention, frowning when you made eye contact with a familiar pink-skinned girl. She tried smiling at you, but it looked more like a grimace. “Hey, can we talk outside real quick?” She whispered. It had been the first time she had reached out to you, and while a part of you wanted to throat punch her, a small voice in your head urged you to hear her out. You bit your lip.

“Sure, let’s go.” Quietly, you stood from your seat and shot your friends a tired smile before following Mina out of the room. She led you around the corner of the hallway, far enough from reaching ears, before taking a deep breath. “So, uh… How have you been?” She sounded stiff and awkward. You snorted.

“That’s what you wanted to ask me? Spit it out so I can go back to class.” The harsh tone felt strange on your tongue, but you used it nonetheless as you glared at the girl in front of you. Her eyes scrunched up, and she innocently scuffled her shoe on the floor, despite you and her both knowing that she was anything but.

“I… I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

“A little late for an apology, don’t you think?”

You weren’t making this easy for her, and you knew it. You enjoyed it. She looked like she was on the verge of crying, which only made you angrier. How dare she try to reach out for forgiveness now? You were stronger than that, not as soft as Ochaco, who forgave the girl easily out of pity. “I’m sorry! I wasn’t sure what to say, how to-”

“-explain to me that you’re a homewrecker? Hmm, I wonder? Maybe you should’ve written me a note? I like notes, those are nice… Dear (Y/N), sorry for sucking off your boyfriend! See you in class! XOXO!” You toss your hands up, staring at Mina in mock surprise. “But waiting over a month for you to grow the balls? Man, that was sure a surprise! Yay me!”

Mina’s eyes finally narrowed at you, patience wearing thin. “What’s wrong with you? I’m trying to apologize, and you’re not being very nice about it.”

You scoffed. “I’m acting as I should in front of the girl who, may I repeat, came onto a guy who was already in a relationship. One that you knew about very clearly, might I add.”

“It’s not like he was stopping me!”

You paused at that; she was right, it wasn’t just her fault. But you held them both at the same level of guilt, and her trying to pin the majority of it on your ex only made your blood boil more. “I know that. I’m not telling you that I blame you more than him, but that doesn’t justify your actions. Stop trying to play innocent when you were acting like such a… a…” You couldn’t bring yourself to say the word, yet Mina seemed to understand it even unspoken as her hands balled into fists.

“I liked him long before you did!” Her voice was bitter, and her shoulders sagged slightly as the truth began to flow from her lips. “I liked him within the first week of school, before you were even here! But no.” Her eyes became slitted. “You transferred here while we were all happy, and you ruined everything. All of a sudden, it was all about you, the new girl who had caught the infamous Bakugou Katsuki’s eye. You came waltzing into our lives and took the one thing I wanted the most in my life, other than to be a hero; you stole the boy I loved.”

“... That’s the reason you did it? Are you kidding me?”

Now you were really pissed, to the point that your quirk had begun to manifest around your body; black inky tendrils appearing from behind your back like hellish wings, dark smoke drifting from them and gathering by your feet. Mina glanced at them for a moment, unaffected, before pursuing the topic further. “Pretty much, yeah! I wanted him, and I took him from you. It worked, didn’t it?”

“From what it looks like, he treats you like a slice of moldy bread.” The comparison would’ve made you laugh in another situation, but not in that one. But it had been true; Bakugou had been unnaturally rude to Mina lately, icing her out of conversations and ignoring her advances towards him. The worst of it had been during training when, unknown to him, All Might had paired the two together, and Mina had left on a stretcher with multiple broken bones and bruises. Their fight had lasted only a few minutes, and the only reason she hadn’t been in worse shape was because Kiri had pulled Bakugou away from plummeting her further into the dirt.

“But at least I tried! You didn’t fight for him after what I did. You let him go! You didn’t really love him like I do!” Her voice was getting shrill.

One tendril shot out to Mina, wrapping itself around her throat and shoving her against the brick wall. Two more followed in suit, puncturing themselves on either side of her head. Bits of concrete fell on her shoulders, but you doubted that she notices as she clawed at the tentacle around her neck, eyes wide. It wasn’t tight enough to cut off her airways; just tight enough to cause a little panic. To show her you weren’t to be messed with, and that you were tired of the conversation. You leaned closer to her, adding a little more pressure to her throat as you smiled with false kindness. “Never question my feelings ever again. I did love him. That’s why it hurt when he cheated, why it hurt so much to let him go. But once a cheater, always a cheater; and I’m not easily tricked twice.” She was gasping slightly now, but a large part of you didn’t care. Instead, you had begun to like hearing her struggle. The smile turned darker. You knew you should’ve stopped a long time ago, since your quirk wasn’t just what it looked like. If you kept going, you would’ve most likely turned more bloodthirsty, and the thought made you-

“That’s enough.” The tendrils disappeared into thin air, and as they did so Mina inhaled loudly. You glanced towards your voice, wincing slightly as you met the red-eyed gaze of your teacher as he stalked down the hallway, hair rising as he pursed his lips. When he noticed the threat had subsided, he returned to his bored expression, yet anger still lingered. “Mina. Back to class, now.” She didn’t question him, and immediately high-tailed it back to her desk. When she had disappeared behind the corner, Aizawa looked back to you. The anger had simmered, but now there was something more that made your stomach churn; disappointment.

The teacher sighed. “I’m not going to ask for details, and I doubt Mina will push for them. But you’re going to have to face punishment for using your quirk on school grounds without permission.” He paused, gauging your reaction, and glanced at the two punctures on the brick wall before continuing. “One week of detention, and you’ve got to handle all of the chores within the dorm during that time as well.” You made sure to keep your lips sealed, knowing he could’ve given you a much worse punishment, and nodded. “Good. Head back to the classroom. I’ll be there in a minute.”

As soon as you had returned to the room, Ochaco had pounced on you like a cat on a mouse. Guilt was clear on her face, and her eyes darted from Mina to you. “I’m sorry, are you okay? I was worried when you didn’t come back after a few minutes, and sort of sent Aizawa-Sensei to find you.” She puffed out her cheeks, and you laughed.

“It’s fine; I’ve got some detention, and I’ve gotta handle the dorm’s messes for a week. So I guess we’ll have to raincheck on hanging out at that new cafe, huh?”

“Don’t even worry about that! I’m just glad it wasn’t worse!”

You felt a burning gaze on the back of your neck, but chose to ignore it. Mina could go kiss your ass, for all you cared. “Me too. Could you help me with the worksheet? I need to play catch-up now…” You sighed dramatically, and your close friend giggled as she led you back to your desk.

What you didn’t know at the time, however, was that it wasn’t Mina glaring at you, but the blonde boy who had somehow stolen her heart and broken his own.

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

“Thank god it’s finally lunch! I’m starving!” You moaned, and Shinso smiled at your theatrics. After the incident with Mina that morning, you were happy to finally get the day over with. Or at least the school part of it. “What sounds good right now? Chicken katsu or pork ramen?”

“Considering you’ve had ramen twice already this week…”

You playfully glared at your boyfriend, but couldn’t keep the grin from sliding onto your lips. “Third time’s a charm, right?” You said, and the low chuckle he emitted made your chest warm. He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead; now that your relationship was out in the open, he had become more easy-going with touches and short pecks. “Grab us our usual seats, and I’ll bring food to you.” He said, and shoved you forward slightly to your friend’s table before heading to the growing lunch line.

You shook your head, your smile still framed on your lips as you sat beside Tsuyu at your usual table. Midoriya, Ochaco, and Tenya sat across from you, all of them bringing their own handmade bento boxes. You groaned. “Geez, your guys’ food makes me feel lazy for not making my own.” Tsuyu turned to you - she was munching on a yogurt - when her eyes skittered to something behind your head. You turned, and groaned again; but this time, it was in annoyance.

“Can we talk?” His voice was as gruff as usual, his hands tucked loosely in his pockets and a slouch tainting his frame. Bakugou’s attention drifted to your friends for a moment, before returning to you promptly.

“(Y/N)-” You raised a hand, stopping Tenya in his tracks before he could begin his monologue. “It’s fine, guys. I’ll be back in a quick minute, okay?” You stood up, mentally preparing yourself for the second unfortunate face-to-face talk you’d have that day, and took a deep breath. Both you and Bakugou stayed silent as you followed him from the cafeteria to outside. The sakura blossoms were just beginning to fully boom, some of them already drifting to the grass by the pull of the wind. The blonde halted his walking, staring at the trees for a moment before sliding his vermillion gaze to you. You hoped you wouldn’t need to use your quirk again. Two weeks of detention didn’t sound fun, and one week of chores was already enough for you to turn a new leaf to be a straight-A student. Your own teasing made the corner of your lip quirk up slightly.

“When did you start dating that purple-haired freak.” He muttered, hands still deep in his pockets. He was staring at you, unblinking, but his lips had drawn into a fine line and his brows were furrowed. You crossed your arms over your chest.

“His name is Shinsou.” You ignored his question and instead tilted your head. “What do you want, Bakugou? To try apologizing like Mina did? I wouldn’t bother.”

He growled. “Fuck no. I already tried that, and I know that shit doesn’t work with you.”

“... So then why am I out here?”

“I don’t…” He pushed a breath out from his nose, his face looking more frustrated. “I don’t like you with him.”

“Tough luck, buttercup.”

He glared at you, but smiled slightly. Not a smirk, but a rare smile. “I used to hate those stupid nicknames you made up.” He reminisced, glancing back to the blossoms. He bit his bottom lip, thinking, and turned back to you. “Are you always going to hate me?”

You tensed. You had expected some yelling or screaming, maybe him threatening to blow Shinsou up a few times, but you weren't prepared for vulnerable Bakugou. You let your shoulders relax slightly. “I don’t know. Probably not.” You mused, looking at the flowers as his head shot to you. You ignored his questioning gaze.

“Do I still have a chance, then?”

“No.”

From the corner of your eye, you could see his shoulders deflate a bit at that. “I really am sorry.” He murmured, and out of all his past apologies, this one sounded genuine. You looked at him, his eyes staring at the ground and a crestfallen expression glued to his face. A part of you pitied him.

“I know. But I still can’t forgive you. Not yet, at least, and not completely.” You were surprised at how calm you were being; after ignoring him for weeks, you were talking to him as if he were familiar. Maybe not as familiar as he was, but definitely not like a stranger. Was this growth? Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to be nice.

“... If he ever hurts you, I’ll beat his ass into the ground, ya know.”

“I can do that myself if the time comes, thanks.”

He laughed, once, but it startled you. A sad smile was on his lips, and you realized you had never seen Bakugou so open before, dropping his tough-guy act entirely. Before he could open his mouth to speak, however, someone cleared their throat, and his expression went blank. For the second time that day you turned to the noise, but instead of seeing Aizawa, his student intern stood there. Shinso didn’t look upset, face devoid of any emotion as he raised one eyebrow in your direction. “Ready to eat? Food’s getting cold.”

You smiled warmly at him, stepping forward to entangle one of his hands in your own. He was tense, but at your touch he immediately relaxed. “Yup! Let’s go… I’ll see you later, Bakugou?” You left it up as a question, not wanting to push him as you extended an olive branch. Not forgiving, but learning to. The blonde nodded slowly, and you accepted the answer with a growing grin before pulling Shin back into the cafeteria building, leaving Bakugou alone to collect his thoughts.

“You okay?” Your boyfriend asked, squeezing you hand slightly to gain your attention. You slowed slightly, looking over at him, taking in all of his features carefully; from the wild mess of lavender hair, down to his eyes and to the small pout beginning to form on his lips. You stepped up onto your tip-toes, giving him a short but effective peck that melted away his pout almost immediately. “I’m okay. C’mon, I’m starving.”

And you were okay; you had a feeling that everything was going to start being better than okay.

[thezodiaczone]

Virgo Compatibility

VIRGO + ARIES (MARCH 21 - APRIL 19) The razor's edge between love and hate lives in this common but contradictory coupling. Your attraction feels so fated, it's impossible to resist. Fire-sign Aries loves freedom and risk, but helplessly falls for prudent, parental Virgo, an Earth sign landlocked by practicality and protocol. The tips of Virgo's gossamer wings are singed by Aries' flame—yet, into the fire the Virgin flutters. Both signs have a hero complex, and this relationship centers around fixing each other, or exposing the other to new ways of life. For the first six to twelve months, it's exhilarating. Arduous Aries hand-delivers Virgo's sexual awakening with passion that's tender and all-consuming. Cautious Virgo teaches the impetuous Ram how to slow down, prepare and look both ways before crossing. New facets of your personalities unearth themselves—how lovely!

Once the hormone flood is no longer at high tide, however, there are glaring differences to negotiate. Virgo's well-intentioned criticisms feel like a character assault to Aries ("who cares how I fold my T-shirts? I'm still a good person!"). Aries' myopic selfishness makes Virgo feel resentful and unappreciated—especially after hours of listening to the Ram's diatribes with the patience of a paid analyst. At this point, you realize that you've spent way too much time together, and you've lost touch with the outside world. Roll out of bed and reconnect with your individual friends, hobbies and interests. Trust that the other one will be there when you return.

VIRGO + TAURUS (APRIL 20 - MAY 20) ♥♥♥♥ You're a pair of sophisticated Earth signs who blend like cashmere and wool. Taurus adds the touch of luxe and Virgo is the solid standby. You're what could be described as a "lovely couple," with good taste, social graces and old-fashioned values. Although your earthy natures can also make you hippies at heart, you tend toward the traditional, and you both like possessions of quality. You'll set up a lovely, well-appointed home—though Taurus will have to fight neat-freak Virgo to keep the plastic slipcovers off the sofas and doilies off the appliances. Virgo is ruled by intellectual Mercury, and Taurus by pleasure-loving Venus. As a result, Taurus is more feisty, raw and direct, which can offend Virgo's stuffed-shirt sensibilities. However, the Virgin soon looses up and learns to laugh at himself. It's good to have sensible Virgo around to pull the brake when Taurus overspends, heads up to the buffet for a fourth helping or tips his glass for a refill. Responsible Virgo has far more self-control than the Bull. In private, you're both sensual and erotic, and you can spend hours wrapped contentedly in your Egyptian cotton sheets. You share a judgmental streak, and if you're too intent on fancying yourselves superior to the world, you may limit your horizons. Open your minds, and be willing to try something "lowbrow" or off your beaten paths. It keeps life interesting.

VIRGO + GEMINI (MAY 21 - JUNE 20) Gemini and Virgo share a common ruler: speedy Mercury, who zips around the Sun gathering light and information, then disseminating it to the masses. You're both natural communicators with a thousand ideas and opinions. Romance is a cerebral affair for your intelligent signs. Conversations spark into lively debates; asking each other "What do you think?" is akin to foreplay. Although Virgo is a more staid Earth sign and Gemini is a breezy Air sign, you share a "mutable" quality. That means you're flexible, and you can adapt to each other's quirks. Good thing, since you each have a bevy of rigid, borderline obsessive-compulsive habits. (Virgo's can include folding underwear into identical, neat little squares; Gemini's usually involve hoarding, starting new hobbies or impulse shopping.) You both love control, though Gemini is loath to admit this, while Virgo flies the flag. At times, you may wrestle for dominance, a habit you'll need to overcome for this match to work. Virgo's nagging can take the wind out of Gemini's sails; Gemini's sketchily researched half-truths set off Virgo's trust alarm. But combine the depth of Virgo's cautious planning with the breadth of Gemini's boundless curiosity, and you've got the total package. You can make great parents, too, since your styles tend to complement and you'll divide up roles with ease. Gemini can help serious Virgo lighten up, and responsible Virgo can help ground the easily distracted Twin.

VIRGO + CANCER (JUNE 21 - JULY 22) ♥♥♥♥ This is a couple that can outlast the ages, since you're fast friends and seamless companions. Virgo is the zodiac's helper and Cancer is its nurturer. Your emotional connection is instant, and you're thrilled to meet a kindred soul who knows how to give, not just take. It's a refreshing break from the usual energy vampires you both attract! Your relationship is sweet and storybook-innocent: lots of handholding, sentimental cards, and anniversary baubles. Yet, you're practical, too, stowing away college funds for your yet-to-be-born children, earning advanced degrees, taking out a mortgage. Security is something you both cherish. In a way, you're like parents and partners to one another: you both express love by nagging, fussing and feeding. And it works. A pair of self-professed nerds, you love to cook, decorate, read novels and learn. No matter how much money you earn, you both remain thrifty, too. (Scoring a high-end treasure at a tag sale or an eBay auction is orgasmic.) Your signs are both family oriented, and you make sweet but strict parents who live for your children. Generally, you're close to your own relatives, and you enjoy spending time at family events or hosting holiday gatherings. Keeping the sexy charge alive will take a little effort, though, since you both love to stay home rather than dress up or hit the town. Push yourselves to leave the nest, and socialize with other couples more often.

VIRGO + LEO (JULY 23 - AUGUST 22) You're playing with fire here—literally. Passionate Leo is a Fire sign ruled by the Sun, and his solar power can light up a universe. Virgo is a practical, skeptical Earth sign who can throw dirt on Leo's flames before they have a chance to combust into a world-changing wildfire. It's a shame how quiet and subdued the awesome Lion becomes around Virgo. The problem? Leo is addicted to praise, and needs constant encouragement from his mate. Virgo is the zodiac's perfectionist; his critical nature can cause Leo to shrink-wrap himself into diminutive proportions. Think of Leos Madonna and Jennifer Lopez, and their marriages to Virgos Guy Ritchie and Marc Anthony. Yes, they had children with these men, which is important to the family-oriented Lion. However, both megastars toned down their flashy, go-getter images to play wifey. This dynamic must be avoided at all costs. Virgo's earthy nature should be no more than terra firma beneath the Lion's feet. In turn, Leo must shore up confidence, rather than take flaw-finding Virgo's feedback to heart. While Virgo is the helper sign, a codependent vibe can quickly form if he tries to manage Leo's demanding, dramatic life. Your signs are completely different; what's good for the goose is dead-wrong for the gander. Live and let live.

VIRGO + VIRGO (AUGUST 23 - SEPTEMBER 22) Two fussbudget, critical control freaks like you will either suit each other…or deserve each other. For what is a relationship but a magical looking glass into your own dark and twisted Wonderland? You're neurotic neatniks and private pack rats who will either: a) thrive by living in separate wings or residences, b) nitpick each other to death, or c) grow into happily-ever-after hoarders, aging gracefully in a castle of newspaper clippings saved for the ne'er-to-come Someday. Your grounding Earth sign nature can also be your saving grace, as it gifts you with sophisticated, sensual taste. Forget the horn-rimmed glasses and virginal rep that's been cast upon your sign. You love handcrafted cuisine, fecund vineyards, bespoke furniture and majestic interiors. More than that, you both love the STORY behind everything. What would bore other signs fascinates you, and you want to learn about every nook and cranny that went into your captivations. Our advice: pack your perfectly-matched Vuitton luggage and get thee to Tuscany for couples' cooking lessons. Learn the complete history of a region and travel there on an architectural tour. Call it "intellectual intercourse." Bond over your braininess and the passion will follow.

VIRGO + LIBRA (SEPTEMBER 23 - OCTOBER 22) You're next-door-neighbor signs who can learn a thing or two from each other. Virgo is a cautious Earth sign who plans for the worst and prays for the best. Air-sign Libra not only expects the best, he demands it—and thus, he usually gets it. In stressful times, Libra's charm and balanced perspective is a breath of fresh air for anxious Virgo. The Virgin is ruled by mentally-stimulating Mercury, and his mind goes a mile a minute. Libra's ruler is Venus, the goddess of beauty, love and pleasure. Like a gentle lullaby, Libra smoothes the rough spots, helping Virgo relax and trust that everything will be okay. While this may be an illusion, it still has a hypnotic effect on Virgo. Socially, you mix well. You both enjoy arts and culture, and you'll never be at a loss for date ideas: museum openings, concerts, readings. You're also a fastidious pair—you'll have the cleanest house on the block if it's up to Virgo, and the most tastefully decorated home if Libra has a say. The one dynamic to beware: Virgo is the zodiac's helper and Libra is its pampered diva. This can easily turn into a master-and-servant scenario, with Libra feigning helplessness and Virgo scrambling to save him. Like Persephone eating the pomegranate seeds that doomed her to Hades, Virgo must be careful not to swallow Libra's intoxicating tales and sob stories.

VIRGO + SCORPIO (OCTOBER 23 - NOVEMBER 21) ♥♥♥♥ Virgo and Scorpio are two of the zodiac's shrewdest signs. Your collective gaze misses nothing, and your conversations can be as hair-splitting as Freudian analysis. You're both insatiable when it comes to understanding the human soul, and examining your own neuroses can keep you busy for weeks. While your obsessive natures would drive other people mad, it only makes you more fascinated by each other. You're like two scientists in the lab of love, researching, analyzing, and measuring data. Moody and introverted, you both have spells where you crave total privacy, and you'll grant each other that space. You unconsciously absorb so much energy from your environments, and you need to clear yourselves on a regular basis. Nature is soothing—Scorpio is a Water sign, and Virgo is Earth—and you may enjoy a healthy or outdoorsy lifestyle. That can mean renting a private chalet on a pristine European lake, or devoting yourselves to raw food, vegetarianism, and yoga. Virgo is the zodiac's Virgin and Scorpio is the sex sign. In bed, Scorpio can be a bit too intense for earthy Virgo. You're both lusty sensualists, but if Scorpio breaks out the dungeon props and dominatrix gear, Virgo draws the line. The Virgin may indulge a fetish with strangers, but he keeps a strict boundary about how far he'll experiment with a partner. No matter. You're good friends and supportive partners who find beauty in the smallest details—the makings of a quality life commitment.

VIRGO + SAGITTARIUS (NOVEMBER 22 - DECEMBER 21) Virgo is an introverted Earth sign, Sag an extroverted Fire sign, but you can bring out lesser-seen traits in each other. On the outside, you look like an odd couple. Prim, preppy Virgo is a crisply tailored schoolmarm; Sag is a rumpled hippie in wrinkled jeans and weathered shoulder bags, more like a grad student during finals. Still, you're both brainy types who bond through long, intense conversations. Intellectual Virgo has a keen, organized mind; thoughtful Sagittarius is the zodiac's philosopher. Together, you'll ponder the meaning of life and psychoanalyze your mutual friends—behind their backs and to their faces. You can both be preachy and judgmental, and you're fascinated by the foibles of human nature. Beyond the talk, you have different lifestyles, and those require adaptation. Virgo's monkish side can make Sag feel lonely, and the Archer's blunt remarks can hurt the Virgin's feelings. Virgo is great listener, but hesitant to bare his own soul. This frustrates Sagittarius, who craves more intimate sharing. Your habits are different, too. Virgo concerns himself with every niggling detail, irritating the impatient Archer, who thinks in broad strokes. Sagittarius must learn to sweat the small stuff a little more. Thank-you notes, birthday cards, flowers, presents—these gestures don't mean much to Sag, but they mean the world to Virgo. In turn, Sag can teach Virgo how to have fun and take risks instead of playing it safe.

VIRGO + CAPRICORN (DECEMBER 22 - JANUARY 19) ♥♥♥♥ You're pragmatic Earth signs who strike a perfect balance between sensible and sensual. You bring out the best in one another. Virgo is ruled by Mercury, the communication planet. A natural psychologist and articulate speaker, this sign likes to talk everything out. Stoic Capricorn is ruled by stern, repressed Saturn, and struggles to voice his feelings. Capricorn benefits from Virgo's ability to draw him out of dark thoughts. When Virgo's anxieties take hold, practical Capricorn brings a helpful dose of perspective. Dutiful souls, you take care of parents, friends and family members, and your cozy home is everyone's favorite crash pad. Holidays and parties are warm, congenial affairs, and nobody wants to leave. Marriage is a sure success, and you laugh often, excellent medicine for your serious signs. The lovely thing about this combination is how natural you can be—a refreshing break from your formal public demeanors. A favorite example: One Virgo friend, a singer-songwriter, was stricken with a creative block. Her Capricorn husband poked his head into her studio, and found her obsessing. She launched into complaining, and he deftly interrupted: "Wanna f---?" A satisfied hour later, she finished the song. Offensive to prim Virgo from any other sign, but Capricorn can go there. You relax into your carnal natures around each other, loosening up in ways that few other signs can elicit.

VIRGO + AQUARIUS (JANUARY 20 - FEBRUARY 18) To say you're an odd couple is an understatement—and there certainly will be odds to beat. Just figuring each other out could take years, and it might not end well. (Remember tabloid train-wrecks Charlie Sheen and Denise Richards, or Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie Presley?) Judgmental Virgo is an introverted Earth sign with a habit of thinking too much. Breezy Aquarius, a carefree Air sign, is the unofficial town mayor, best friend to everyone from the street sweeper to the CEO. While you complement each other in some ways, your lifestyles are very different. Virgo likes time alone with his books and thoughts, while social Aquarius rarely misses a party and can't be bothered to take life as seriously as Virgo does. Where can you come together? You both like to help people in need, and you're passionate about social change, especially through responsible business practices. Saving the planet is a particular passion for your environmentalist signs. You're as likely to meet at a drum circle as you are at a conference on climate control, or volunteering in the Peace Corps. In fact, this relationship is most likely to succeed if you have a larger common vision. Why not funnel your ideals into a successful enterprise? Go start an eco-village, or open a raw juice bar in an up-and-coming neighborhood—Virgo can grow organic produce in a backyard plot. It will stop Virgo from nagging and nosing into Aquarius's affairs, and will keep restless Aquarius from feeling smothered.

VIRGO + PISCES (FEBRUARY 19 - MARCH 20) Virgo and Pisces are two of the most powerful healers in the zodiac. Virgo is an Earth sign, clinical and data-driven, always there with a practical answer and a helping hand. Water-sign Pisces has emotional compassion, the ability to empathize and absorb other people's pain. You're opposite signs: Virgo is the doctor; Pisces is the nurse. You can teach each other a lot, doing much good on the planet along the way. Virgo is the zodiac's giver, performing acts of selfless service (Mother Theresa is a Virgo). However, it's hard for Virgo to receive, since he views "neediness" as a weakness in himself. Enter Pisces, ruler of the zodiac's receptive twelfth house. The Fish knows how to surrender boundaries and allow people's energy to flow in. Pisces teaches Virgo that accepting love is a generous and selfless act. It opens the door for others to be their greatest selves, to discover their power through contributing. At times, Pisces' emotional nature can overwhelm Virgo, leaving him ungrounded. You both need doses of solitude to reconnect with your souls. Writing, playing music (especially classical compositions or Gregorian chants), painting and creativity is healing to you both. This relationship also brings out your spiritual sides. Meditation, yoga and metaphysical study can open up great psychic channels. These practices also prevent unhealthy addictions, which your easily-stressed signs may adopt as a means of self-medicating. Watch out for secretive tendencies, which you both have as a result of perfectionism and insecurity. Communicate openly, or air your "shameful" skeletons to a confidante—otherwise, you'll beat yourselves up unnecessarily, causing distance in the relationship.

[sakurasangcl]

Don’t Leave Me (pt. 2)

Summary:  Hybrids began as a strange phenomenon, and were soon fetishized. This led to them being bred specifically for sexual use. Owning a hybrid became a sign of status, and celebrities, idols, and famous people in general would show off their status by having well bred and taught hybrids of their own. Following this obsession, BTS was told that it was time for them to get a hybrid of their own. Unable to decide who would be trusted to buy the hybrid, the members end up having Bang PD pull a name (or two) out of a hat. In the end, they buy you, a top-of-the line rebellious dog hybrid.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: mentions of past abuse, physical injuries, light angst

Part 1

Not too long after Jin leaves, there’s a gentle knock on your door. “It’s Jimin, can I come in?”

“Okay,” you reply, turning on the ground to the door. You hadn’t moved much, because the room was so clean and perfect and you didn’t want to ruin it. 

Jimin slowly opens the door and smiles brightly when he sees you on the floor. He gladly joins you on the ground, putting clothes in front of you. “I thought you might want to shower, so I went ahead and found you some clothes that would probably fit you and are comfortable,” he explained. “And don’t worry about being late for dinner. We can always heat it up for you. But we want you to be comfortable… and you don’t seem so in those clothes… No offence, of course.” 

Jimin was right, you did hate the clothes you were wearing. You hated pretty much everything from the adoption center, which was all of your possessions. “Are you sure it’s okay if I borrow these?” you softly ask. 

Jimin nodded insistently. “Definitely. Want me to show you where the towels are?” he asks you, standing up and extending his hand to help you as well. 

You gingerly pick up the clothing, and momentarily stare at his offered hand before taking it. “If you really don’t mind…” you admit. 

Jimin smiles brightly and leads you to a closet. “Here’s where we keep the towels. We also have toilet paper, tissues, and other things in here as well. But there’s toilet paper under the sink in the bathroom too.” he explains. “Here, I’ll grab you a towel.”

Jimin leads you back to the bathroom and turns on the light. He hangs up the towel for you and opens the curtain. “You can use whichever stuff in here you want. And when we go shopping, we can always buy you new shampoo and stuff.” Jimin informs you. “So, I’ll leave you to shower, okay? I’ll turn on the fan before I go too. Just call if you need any help. Someone will hear you.” 

Jimin turns around and turns on the fan, and starts to close the door. Before it’s completely shut, you say, “Thank you.” Jimin shuts the door with a smile on his face.

For once, you take a slow shower. You take your time washing your hair and tail, as well as soaping off your body. You clean off your bruises with a wince, then turn off the water. As you carefully dry off, you check your injuries in the mirror. 

The swelling in your eye had gone down some, but it was still rather colorful. There was a small cut above your eyebrow that stung some, and you dreaded having to ask anyone for the first aid kit. You check out your bruised sides, whining softly in pain as you turned. With a soft sigh you tug the clothing on before going out to find out what was going on. 

You hear them arguing, and your fur fluffs up. Were they upset with you? When Yoongi notices you, he gives you his soft gummy smile. Immediately the others cool down, and Jin suddenly runs off. 

"Will you come sit here?" Yoongi asks patting the chair next to him on the breakfast bar. "Jin went to get the first aid kit," he explains. 

You nod and go around Namjoon, who Jin had been arguing with, who was getting something from the freezer. You sit next to Yoongi, shivering lightly. 

"Here," Namjoon offers you an ice pack. "It will help the swelling go down."

You nod and gently hold it up to your bruise, wincing lightly. 

After a moment Jin comes back, carrying a blanket, sweater, and first aid kit with him. "I noticed you looked cold," he tells you, offering you the sweater. 

You nod and struggle to put it on, causing them all to freeze. 

"Y/N, are you bruised badly?" Namjoon gently asks, coming to crouch before you as you pause in fear. 

Your ears flick as you shrink back and into yourself, suddenly hyper aware of Yoongi's warmth behind you. 

"You can be honest with us," Yoongi softly assures you. 

You timidly nod and lift your shirt, exposing your bruised rib cage. Namjoon slowly reaches out to you and touches your side where it isn't discolored. 

"Your ribs may be fractured. Why didn't you speak up earlier?" Namjoon asks. 

You whine and drop your shirt, shifting in your seat and looking at the tile floor, ashamed. 

"Hey, it's okay. We are new. Would prefer the hospital or emergency clinic?" Jin gently asks. "Whichever you are more comfortable at." 

"Either is fine," you respond deftly, and they lead you to the front door.

They pause, realizing that it wouldn't be smart for them all to take you.

"We can't all go," Jin says.

"Yoongi signed the papers," Namjoon points out. 

"Are you okay with me taking you?" Yoongi asks, turning to look at you. 

You nod, suddenly not wanting to go at all. After much coaxing and the promise of cookies when you get home, you get into the car. Taehyung comes along for the ride, his bright demeanor half the reason you were in the car. 

Once there, you freeze in the car. You shake softly, and Yoongi gives you a concerned look. 

"Y/N, we will be with you the entire time. Do you want one of us to carry you?" Yoongi asks, glancing at Taehyung. 

You feel the muscles in your stomach clench and knot, so you nod slightly. Taehyung goes around the car and opens the door, gently unbuckling you and picking you up. He let's you koala against him with your legs wrapped around his waist and arms his neck. Taehyung holds you up by the thighs as they bring you inside. You hide your face in Taehyung's neck as he sits down, Yoongi checking you in. 

After a brief conversation, Yoongi returns. Him and Taehyung talk, letting you remain silent. Taehyung runs soothing circles on your back, calming you. 

Not too long after you get called back. Taehyung gingerly sits you down on the bench at the office. Before Yoongi sits down you reach out for his hand. He sees the nervous look in your eyes and sits beside you, saying "come in," when a bird hybrid nurse knocked on the door.

She introduced herself and asked about symptoms, causing you to freeze. Yoongi takes about they state they found you in, and the nurse encourages you to elaborate. After a moment, you do. 

"It hurts to take deep breaths, and I'm tired a lot. I think my suppressants are working against my antidepressants, and-and I'm really anxious about meeting new people," you manage to get out, taking hold of Yoongi's hand. 

The nurse nods and jots down notes. Not too long after, a woman comes in who is the doctor. She begins it as a regular checkup, tsking every now and then. 

"Alright Y/N. You've been going through a lot, huh? I'm glad you were adopted when you were. If you don't mind, can you take off your shirt so I can properly see the bruising on your ribs? I'm afraid they are broken. If so, I can teach you to bandage them for the time being. I am also going to switch your medications and give you a recommendation to go to a psychiatrist in a month to see how these medications work. The ones you're currently on should not be taken together." 

"Do you want us to leave the room?" Taehyung asks as you play with the hem of your shirt. 

"We'll cover our eyes, okay?" Yoongi says, and does so once you nod. Taehyung does the same.

With difficulty from the bruises, you manage to take off the shirt. The doctor gently touches your ribs, informing you they are broken. She opens a cabinet and takes out an ace bandage, teaching you how to properly wrap your ribs. She then helps you put your shirt back on. 

"Alrighty, you should be good to go," the doctor says, handing the prescription orders to Yoongi. 

He takes them and thanks her, and you all swing by the pharmacy before going home. 

When you get back home, they all baby you. They're consistent about giving you your medication, making sure you eat, helping you with pretty much anything, and keeping you company. About a week goes by before they bring up needing to go in to work. .

Your ears twitch as Namjoon opens the door, as you had been expecting him for a bit. You had heard some of the conversations that they had been having, and knew that he would eventually come. 

“Hey pup,” he coos, coming in and sitting on your bed. 

You blink up at him and move closer, curling into him. He scratches behind your ears, smiling. 

“We need to go back to work tomorrow, love. We need to work on a new comeback, and we can only go on short breaks for so long. We would all want you to come to work with us, but we don’t want to make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with. There would be a lot of people, it is a new place for you, all of that kind of thing. I just want to know your thoughts. You can, of course, stay here at home if you want,” Namjoon says.

You peer up at him, deep in thought. “What would I be doing if I come to work with you?” you ask. 

“There’s a few things you can do. You will be aloud to watch us practice and record music. You can hang out with me in my studio or stay there by yourself. You can watch tv on one of our laptops, read.” 

“What I do here, but a different location?”

“And less cuddles.” 

“Less cuddles?” 

“Yeah, and less pets.” 

“But I would get none if you aren’t here and I am alone.” 

“Yes, that is true.” 

You pause, thinking. “I want to come,” you tell him, and Jimin bursts into your room. 

“You’ll come?” he asks, excited. 

You nod, and you can tell you made him very happy. Your tail wags a little, still shy.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

To the Ends of the Earth 13

Supernatural 

A/n: Supernatural AU. OOC Gabriel 

Link to Chapter 12

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader 

______

Lucifer…

The devil’s name left your lips before you could really understand what was going on. You felt Gabriel’s arms tense around you. This was the last thing that you had expected. It had been years since you had last seen the devil. Now here he stood in your living room smiling like some old friend. 

Lucifer turned with a smile. 

“Y/n, how nice to see you again….Gabriel.”

Lucifer’s expression went from cocky to totally surprise the moment that he saw his younger brother. It had been millions of years since Lucifer had seen his brother and now here he stood looking not the least bit happy. Lucifer sighed thinking about their last meeting... 

Gabriel stood on earth wrapped in a dark cloak as Lucifer walked around aimlessly. Lucifer had been gone from heaven for a few weeks now and nothing was getting any easier. Gabriel had snuck to earth a handful of times to see his older brother. 

This time, however, was different. Gabriel stood completely silently as Lucifer did whatever it was he was supposed to be doing. After a few moments, Lucifer groaned before turning to his younger brother. Even with the cloak covering his face, Lucifer knew that Gabriel was giving him that displeased scowl that the youngest archangel wore so well.  

“Ugh...go ahead, Gabriel. Say what you are going to say and get it over with.” 

Gabriel crossed his arms over his chest. His golden eyes glowed from underneath the cloak. 

“It's pointless.”

Lucifer nodded. He had to stop himself from clapping.

“There you go, kid! You’re starting to catch on finally.”

Gabriel took a breath before pushing the hood off of his face. His golden eyes were focused on his brother carefully. 

“I am not. I do not understand why you are doing this, Lucifer. It makes no sense.” 

Lucifer sighed. 

“It makes total sense. Our father wants us to bow down to some creation that is beyond flawed. No thank you. We are so much better than them.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. This argument was beginning to get a little old now. After hearing it for the past few months, Gabriel was finally able to argue on it. 

“Lucifer, they may be flawed but they are trying. You aren’t giving them a chance. They deserve a chance.”

Lucifer wanted nothing more than to beat the living hell out of his little brother but he couldn't. What the hell was Gabriel thinking? Why was he drinking the kool-aid that his father was apparently passing out to the angels up in heaven? 

From the time that Gabriel was created, Lucifer always had a soft spot for his younger brother. Time apart had not changed those feelings either.  Lucifer still loved him. Now that he saw what his brother was turning into all Lucifer wanted to do was get a hold of him and shake him. 

“Again, I am not giving them a chance, Gabriel. Just because dad paired you up with one that will be born at some point in the future; that doesn’t mean I have to care for them. Go back to heaven and be a good little soldier like always. Go wait for your little darling to be born so you can follow her around like a lovesick puppy that will use you for everything that you are worth.”

Gabriel didn’t speak for a moment before laughing coldly. 

“Fine, you’ll never see me again.”

Lucifer pulled himself from the memory before smiling coldly. 

“I thought that I was never going to see you again?”

Before Gabriel could respond, Lucifer noticed Gabriel’s arms wrapped around your waist. He smirked looking between the two of you. 

“Oh, my dad! Y/n Winchester is the girl that dad bonded you with. What the hell is it with our family and the obsession with Winchesters? I mean, come on! It's like you all are angel kryptonite or something.” 

When Gabriel didn’t bother to respond, Lucifer sighed. 

“Can you stop giving me that scowl of discontent?”

Gabriel let go of you before turning and walking to the couch to sit down. He didn’t bother saying anything as Lucifer chased after his younger brother. 

“Oh wait, so you’re not talking to me now?”

 Gabriel’s golden eyes rolled up to his brother. Talking to Lucifer was the last thing that Gabriel wanted to do. He hadn’t spent all of his past time trying to forget his older brother for nothing. 

“It would be pointless.”

Lucifer scowled at his brother. 

“So I gotta know...how did Michael and Raphael handle the news that little brother is crazy over a human?” 

“Lucifer, drop dead.”

You snapped and sealed the space between the archangels. Lucifer turned his attention to you. 

“You may want to back off, lady. Maybe go get a helmet or something. I have a feeling that things are about to get really ugly in here.” 

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Lucifer frowned and glanced over your shoulder to his brother. Gabriel didn’t move. He sat watching carefully. Lucifer had a feeling that if he dared to make a move on you he would be in a lot of trouble. The last thing that he really wanted was to have Gabriel punch him in the face. 

“That will do, Y/n.”

Gabriel said. You turned to look back at Gabriel. It didn’t take the two of you being a couple for him to know that you wanted him to get away from his brother. 

“Gabriel.” 

“Y/n, back off.”

Gabriel snapped. You gave your lover a pouty expression before going to join Dean. 

Over the next few moments, you stood listening to Gabriel and Lucifer talk in rapid Enochian. Dean leaned over with a smirk. 

“Any idea what they are saying?”

You shook your head. 

“Why would I know?”

Dean shrugged.

“I figured that Gabriel would shove knowledge of the Enochian language into your head...you two being so close and all.” 

Dean seemed a little surprised by the stunned expression.

“What?”

Dean muttered. You turned away from your brother with a frown. Dean had made a good point. 

“Maybe he wants to keep his own secrets”

You shook your head. 

“We aren’t supposed to have those...yet here we are.” 

Before Dean could respond, Gabriel stood up. He reached out pushing Lucifer away from him.

“Get away from me.” 

He snapped before turning his attention back to you. 

“Come on, Y/n.” 

Adam, who had been watching the whole thing from the doorway stepped in. 

“No, she isn’t going with you when you are mad. I forbid it.” 

Gabriel looked at Adam with an amused smirk. He fought the urge to say something extra sassy. The kid was really playing with fire and he didn’t seem to realize it. Talking back to archangels had to be up there with stupid. 

“And I suppose a great human-like yourself is going to stop him?”

Lucifer said with a smirk but earned a scowl from Gabriel. Adam gave Lucifer a matching scowl as the devil turned to his brother. 

“Who is this guy? Looks like he doesn’t have much time for kicks.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. 

“His name is Adam. He’s Y/n’s twin.”

Lucifer’s mouth dropped. 

“How many damn Winchester’s are there? I swear there is more of them than there is of us!”

Adam shook his head. 

“Hell, no. I am not a Winchester. My last name is Milligan. Who are you?”

Gabriel started laughing hard. He ignored the annoyed expression on your face as Lucifer lightly stepped forward.

“I am Lucifer. Aka Satan...nice to meet you! Well, I really don’t give a damn about you, kid. I am here for other things.” 

“To make my life miserable? You’ve already done that.” 

Gabriel turned his attention back to you. He held out a hand before giving you a small smile. 

“Sugar.” 

You didn’t hesitate before wrapping your hand around his. Gabriel tugged you back to the bedroom that you had just left. 

He shut the door behind him with a frown. You waited a moment before deciding to speak. Gabriel had walked to the couch and plopped down. It didn’t take being in love with the archangel to know that he was pissed off. 

“Are you okay?”

Gabriel glanced over his shoulder at you. 

“I’m just peachy.” 

You tried to fight the annoyance building. Gabriel was not peachy. Nothing about him was peachy! 

“Don’t lie to me.”

Gabriel groaned. 

“Oh, here we go!”

He dramatically laid back on the couch like he was in a shrink’s office. 

“What can I say, doctor? I hate all of my brothers. My father abandoned me and now all of my grace is gone!” 

You sat down on the bed. 

“Very funny, smart ass. That isn’t what I meant! Come on, Gabe. You just saw your brother that you haven’t seen in millions of years.” 

Gabriel threw his hands up. 

“I was in there!”

You quickly stood and walked toward the door. 

“Never mind. I wanted to know if you were okay and apparently that is too hard of a question.”

Gabriel popped up from his place on the couch. 

“Hey! I told you not to go after your brothers that day! We are throwing everything that we had away dealing with all of this shit! That was your choice!”

You gave him a cold glare. 

“Yeah, it was all my fault. Everything is always my fault!” 

You slammed the door and walked down the hall. All that you wanted at the moment was to go on a long drive far away from Adam and anything angel related...

______

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[jgroffdaily]

Jonathan Groff, now starring as a hapless flower shop clerk in an Off Broadway revival of “Little Shop of Horrors,” has a tiny confession to make.

“I am really bad with plants,” said the 34-year-old actor, recalling how rapidly the orchids and other flora occasionally sent his way seem to shrivel up and die. “I kill them.”

We were seated under an oak tree that had just tried to bean us with a fast-moving acorn, somewhere inside the New York Botanical Garden. Visiting had been my idea, and I wasn’t quite sure whether it was cheesy or inspired. (Spoiler alert: The musical is about a bloodthirsty plant).

But Mr. Groff was game — he had never been — and although the Bronx gardens were not especially menacing (other than that wayward nut) they did provide an opportunity for some reflection on his unlikely career swerve.

He’s performed in two juggernauts — the animated film “Frozen” (he voiced Kristoff, the rugged ice harvester, and will do so again in “Frozen 2” next month) and the stage musical “Hamilton” (he played King George, scoring his second Tony Award nomination with just nine minutes of stage time). And he stars as an F.B.I. agent in the critically lauded Netflix serial-killer drama “Mindhunter.”

So what is he doing in a 270-seat Hell’s Kitchen theater performing a show that can easily be seen at many a summer camp or community theater, and that, the producers say, will absolutely positively definitely not be transferring to Broadway?

The answer, he says, is mostly that it’s fun. He loves the idea (“It made me so giddy and excited”). He loves the music (“I’m just obsessed by it”). And he’s as surprised as you are (“I can’t believe we’re doing this”).

“We’re just laughing because it feels like we’re doing a professional version of the quintessential high school show,” he said. “We’re all going to back to that initial nerdy impulse of what made us fall in love with musical theater.”

The other key factor: This revival, of a show that first opened Off Off Broadway in 1982, is a passion project for the director Michael Mayer, who played a formative role in his career. Thirteen years ago, Mr. Mayer took a risk by choosing Mr. Groff over actors with more education and experience to star in an experimental Off Broadway musical called “Spring Awakening.”

That show transferred to Broadway and won eight Tonys; it brought Mr. Groff his first Tony nomination and changed his life. “It was everything I ever dreamed of, come true at 21,” Mr. Groff said. “And, like I told Michael, it’s a lifetime of paybacks.”

In May, Mr. Mayer asked Mr. Groff to join him at the Metropolitan Opera for a performance of his production of “Rigoletto,” and during intermission, said to him, “I think I found the next project we’re going to work on, because I know something about you that other people don’t.”

A week later, Mr. Mayer called and asked him to play Seymour, a clumsy and nebbishy orphan fascinated by exotic plants and besotted by his co-worker Audrey.

The show, written by Howard Ashman and Alan Menken, is now in previews at the Westside Theater, where it is scheduled to run through Jan. 19; the production also stars Tammy Blanchard, as the ill-treated and ill-fated Audrey, and the two-time Tony-winner Christian Borle as her sadistic dentist boyfriend.

“Jonathan presents as a beautiful man, competent and terrific and engaged and completely at ease in his own body — the paragon of the golden boy,” Mr. Mayer said. “But I know that there’s this other part of him that is very much like Seymour — he’s got insecurities, and he’s got this childlike passion for things that he can get obsessive about, in the way that Seymour is obsessed with the plant and with Audrey.”

Obsessions? Let’s just say that as a child, Mr. Groff would type out, from memory, scripts of “I Love Lucy” episodes (he also read books about Lucille Ball, a memoir by Desi Arnaz and a book about their company).

“I am a total nerd, and this role is actually closer to who I am as a person than the other parts that I’ve played on Broadway,” Mr. Groff said. “I have a whole side of me that isn’t the projected image,” he added. “I get this — I totally get it — and it feels like a natural fit.”

His physical transformation from hunky to homely has turned out to be surprisingly persuasive, so much so that this production has interpolated a recurring sight gag about the character’s unattractiveness that, by combining absurdity with plausibility, slays the audience (pardon the pun) over and over.

Mr. Groff, dressed by costume designer Tom Broecker in ill-fitting khakis and a vintage blue shirt, appears to cave in on himself during the first act of the show, as if he doesn’t even deserve to stand fully upright. He wears black mad scientist glasses, a beige cap and blue Chuck Taylors, and manages to look boxier and younger than he is in real life.

“The only way he’s not a Seymour is because he’s gorgeous,” Ms. Blanchard said. “But even that goes away — he just seems to shrink into this dorky thing.”

But is “Little Shop” more than a lark?

“It’s about something larger — it’s Faust,” Mr. Groff said. “It’s about greed, and how far you’ll go to get what you want.” But, he added, “the reason it ran for five years Off Broadway, and there’s a movie, and every theater in the world has done it, is because it so doesn’t take itself seriously.”

Visiting the botanical garden prompted memories for Mr. Groff, who said it reminded him of childhood trips to Longwood Gardens in his home state of Pennsylvania. “The smell!” he exulted.

He grew up in Lancaster County, where his father trains horses. He loved musicals, and dreamed of performing (early fantasy roles: Maria in “The Sound of Music” and Eliza in “My Fair Lady”). As a little boy, he dressed as Mary Poppins and Cinderella and Alice and Dorothy, as well as Peter Pan, before discovering the joys of Robin Hood.

He moved to New York instead of going to college, and after waiting tables and an early Broadway debacle (as an understudy in the short-lived “In My Life”) landed “Spring Awakening.” That show, he said, “was my college experience, in a lot of ways,” broadening his understanding of musical theater and increasing his appetite for risk.

He had known he was gay from an early age, and had been living with a boyfriend since he was 19; he came out to his parents shortly after leaving that show, at 23: “I said, ‘I’m gay, but I’m not going to be in a parade or anything.’”

By 2014, he was starring in the HBO series “Looking,” about a group of gay friends in San Francisco — and appeared as a grand marshal of New York City’s gay pride march.

“I started to just become way more comfortable,” he said. “When I came out it was sort of like, ‘If I could change it I would, but sorry, this is how I am,’ and then it took those years to feel like this is a part of me that I love and I would never want to change.”

He said coming out has had a generally positive impact on his career — he has been landing roles both gay and straight, and “ultimately the payoff has just been that I’ve been able to be more and more myself.”

And he’s happy. For the last year and a half he’s been dating Corey Baker, a choreographer from New Zealand he met while teaching at a musical theater summer school there. He lives in the Chelsea neighborhood of Manhattan, but also recently purchased a house adjoining his father’s horse farm, because he has a fantasy of eventually transforming the property.

“My ultimate dream is to turn it into a kind of artists’ colony for my friends to go make work,” he said.

Mr. Groff shuns social media — he said he doesn’t think his life is that interesting — and bikes around the city. He has no interest in clothing. He showed up for our photo shoot with three T-shirts — white, gray and black — proud that he had heeded a publicist’s advice to bring options.

Although he’s never quite sure what’s next career-wise, he likes the work he has.

“Mindhunter” was an unexpected pleasure — “I’m not naturally drawn to true crime,” he said — but he wanted to work with the director David Fincher, and has enjoyed the immersion in a new world, as well as the time filming in Pittsburgh, which allowed him weekends with his family.

Up next: “Frozen 2.” He won’t say much about what to expect, other than that Kristoff now gets his own song, and that the character is “ready to take it to the next step” with Princess Anna.

As we were wrapping up our conversation, I asked Mr. Groff about an article I had seen in a Pennsylvania paper, noting that he had been spotted in the audience for a community theater production of “Evita.”

Mr. Groff said he loves seeing theater where he grew up, and had been further inspired by the actor Michael Cerveris, who while filming “Mindhunter” had soaked up shows in Pittsburgh. So yes, he was at “Evita” with his 4-year-old niece, and he also made time to see “Mamma Mia!” at a theater where he had performed.

As we hopped into a golf cart to find our way out of the garden, he wanted to show me one more thing. He pulled out his phone, loaded with pictures of the cramped backstage at “Little Shop,” and swiped to a video in which he was running lines with that niece, who has been learning about the show in preparation for attending opening night.

“She’s apparently been telling the kids at her day care that she eats blood, and she’s obsessed with the plant’s eyes,” he said. “But I think she sort of gets that we’re playing pretend.”

[thedistantstorm]

Day 16: “Listen. No, really listen.”

Fandom: Destiny

Pairing: Zavala/Female Guardian

Warnings: PTSD, self-harm, canon-typical violence

-/

The door is locked when he enters. His Ghost works the mechanism for him with ease.

"That's funny," Adelaide, his Ghost informs him, "Miyu never locks the door. Maybe she's not home yet? She could be with Lilith-"

Zavala holds up a finger to silence her. "Do you hear that?"

She turns in the direction he's facing but does not run more than a preliminary scan. Quieter, she admits, "No, I don't."

"Listen." Adelaide shrugs her fins. "No, really listen."

Finally, she does. "It sounds like… scrubbing, almost? But, she's not doing dishes." They're in the entryway, leading to the kitchen. They can see the sink from there, no Miyu in front of it.

"Tamashii."

No answer. Guardian and Ghost share a look of concern. Zavala walks nearly silent through their flat, taking care to make sure his feet on the hardwood make some sound as he approaches.

It's not scrubbing that they heard. It's scratching.

The water is running in the washroom, some of it pink with blood. Miyu, his gentle, sweet Miyu is clawing at her arms, as if to flay off the skin there. Her Light glows bright across the damaged skin, but not to heal, as if she's trying to burn herself from the inside out.

Zavala swallows hard. "Oh, Miyu," He rumbles sadly, reaching for her.

The Warlock shrinks away, frustrated, terrified tears pouring down her face. "I can-" She scores her skin once more. "I can feel it. The Dark. It's on me and it won't go away."

Of course. She's spent the last three days in and around the Hellmouth. It lingers, Eris and Ikora say. Like a toxic miasma, or an aura, a shadow eclipsing the Light itself, clinging to her. He can feel it like an unpleasant tingle, but it's not like contagion, and not terribly strong. This lingering essence seems interested only in the party that has contracted it.

Naturally, there's a psychological aspect to it, too. These nightmares making what would normally be manageable for their kind into an insurmountable situation. Little rest, high stress, revisiting old traumas… Guardians may be immortal, but they retain their humanity. He cannot stress it enough. They endure so much, and yet they keep on. The cost to their mental health? It shows. Humans are not meant to live as long as they do, Light or not. And sometimes, all the coping mechanisms in the world don't make a speck of difference against the occult. Not alone.

"Miyu, stop," He urges, softly, taking care not to make her feel trapped. The washroom is small but he slides behind and around her, so that the door is not blocked off.

"I'm sorry," She says, fingers shaking, bloodied, as she pulls them away from her arms. "I just, I can't-"

"It's okay," He says, holding his arms open once more. "Come here."

"I can't," She shakes her head, voice rising in volume thanks to her frustration. "I have to get it off and it's not-!" Miyu slams her palms against the sink, not hard enough to break it, but the pipework rattles and blood spatters. It has to hurt, but she's already crying and carrying on, it likely doesn't make much difference. "I have to get it off me. I have to. I have to," She repeats, and the clawing begins again. Her Light surges but seems repelled, her internalization of her suffering doing her no favors.

Zavala cannot bear to watch. She'll shred herself to the bone at this rate, compelled to obsess over the obstruction of her Light by this cloying abyss. He wordlessly instructs Adelaide to report this behavior to Ikora. Certainly Miyu cannot be the only one suffering in such a way. Countless Guardians have been to Luna since the Hive began making their presence known.

When she begins bashing her wrists against the countertop he's forced to intervene, reaching from behind and pulling her arms away from her, hands wrapped around her blood-slicked wrists.

"Stop," He commands, but it's less authoritative. More frightened. She's frantically jerking her arms against his hold, trying to get free.

"Don't touch it," She begs. "I don't want it to get to you, too. I have to get it off of me and nothing is-"

"Miyu."

She still fights him, trying to pull away, even though it only hurts her more. She'll break her own arms trying to get free of him, he realizes. This obsessive behavior is sure to come with paranoia.

"I'm not strong enough," She sobs, pulsing with golden Light. "I can't burn it away and I have to. I have to make it stop. It feels like it's spreading-" It isn't, it's in her head. Most of this is in her head. He needs her to calm down, she's not being rational.

"Let me help you," He murmurs, voice low and soft, his cheek pressed against her hair. "Please."

"But-"

"Onegaishimasu, Beloved. Please. Allow me."

Miyu stops trying to resist his hold, looking at her arms and hands like they need to be removed from her being.

"Can Tamashii heal you?"

"I sent him away until everything was fixed. I don't want-" She chokes on a sob, "I don't want him to see me like this."

"Come out," Zavala says gaze pointed at the doorway. "I know you haven't gone far." She gasps through more sobs when her skittish companion hovers through the door, wilting at the damage she inflicted upon herself, but Zavala molds himself to her back, his voice a soothing rumble. "He's your partner. He wouldn't leave you, even if you asked him to." Blue eyes look up at the cyan optic. "Right?"

"Right," Tamashii agrees, voice dimmed by sadness. "Even if-"

Zavala nods. "I know," He says soothingly when they both flinch, Guardian and Ghost like two halves of the same soul. The physical injuries her Ghost can heal. The rest may very well remain in her mind regardless of his intervention. "It will be alright."

Red and white fins spin as he works, Miyu trembling while Tamashii casts beams of sweeping, healing Light over her wounds.

"That's all of it," He tells Zavala, and Miyu whimpers. "All that I can get," He revises.

"Thank you." Zavala casts him a gaze that says he'll handle the rest, and the Ghost disappears into a motes of Light.

"Am I crazy? I know things are-" She turns her head, red-rimmed eyes watching him. "They're making us all afraid and I-"

Zavala shushes her, wrapping his arms around her middle, careful to keep her hands at her side. "No. You are not crazy."

"Eris said she could smell it on me," Miyu admits, terrified. "I don't want it on me."

"Did you-"

"Three times," She takes a gulp of air. The shower stall is still wet, and he’s certain she’s scrubbed herself raw beneath her clothes. "Didn't help."

"Okay." He brings his hands to cover hers when they twitch. She's panicking, he knows the signs of a panic attack coming on. He needs to move her now, tangling together on the tiled floor is certainly not comfortable. "Let's sit down in the living room," He instructs.

"On... the couch?"

Zavala shakes his head. He sits with his back against the bottom part of it instead, and motions for her to sit on the floor between his parted legs, so that her back is to his front. She sits like an animal in a cage, slumped forward. He watches her scratch her left arm idly and reaches for her fingers lest she redo the damage that's been undone.

"Lean on me," He instructs. "It's alright. I've got you."

"I don't-"

He pulls her back against him, but doesn't force her still. She clenches her fists, trying to keep the afflicted parts of herself away from him."Trust me, please. I'm going to make it better."

"How?"

An inhale, deep, and disciplined is followed by a controlled exhale, Zavala repeating this several times. She doesn't have to look to know his eyes are closed; His forehead is pressed to her shoulder.

He is a rock. Grounding, centering. Or at least, he would be, if this weren't so disturbing to her. Instead, in the space between his breaths, he feels her panic and paranoia, and the urge to gather her up tightly against him. But she needs to see. To feel. To know.

It starts as a spark. A single strike of flint and steel inside his belly, before he allows it to curl outward.

"Did you know," Zavala begins, when her breath catches in her throat as it hits her, what he's doing, "That I am the only Vanguard mentor capable of wielding all three ability types?"

He lifts his hands from his thighs and holds them out, palms up, in front of her. His flame is a deeper, molten orange. Not sunny and yellow-white, like hers. Earthy and unwavering, like an eternal pilot light. A beacon.

Miyu shakes her head, breathing sharply in disbelief. Never, in all their time together, has he displayed this power to her. To anyone.

"Give me your hands, Anata," He murmurs against her ear. "Let me help."

The warmth he generates is unusual - with him, the Void is like mineral water and brisk, blessed clarity - but she feels emotion ensnared within these flames. This is sensual. Close. An extension of the soul, bright and kind and so very precious for him to be sharing.

She can't help but feel drawn to it, enchanted by it all around her. It feels like she's burning but it doesn't hurt, like it's her own Light, but it's not. It's patient and gentle, healing in a way hers could only hope to be.

Miyu's shaking fingertips brush his palms and she flinches, the prickling numbness of the latent Dark upon her desperately trying to retain feeling like pain until she presses her hands more firmly into his. He knows what he’s doing. Of course he does. He does not boast about it, but he is so much more versed in how to foster and protect one’s Light than he lets on.

"The Hive's magic is seeped in death, sorrow, and despair. They revel in our suffering," He reminds her, when she relaxes, finally, finally feeling like she's no longer under the malignant influence of the Hive. Her breaths still come fast, and thus he pulls their hands together, in a sort of pile across her lap. "We will defeat them with the opposite. Our Light will not waver. Not so long as we continue to celebrate life, find joy even in our darkest moments, and foster love."

She brings her knees up and leans to the side, curling up in the sanctuary of his embrace. It takes a long time for her breaths to even out, especially since she's still weeping, but he continues to manifest solar light, soothing her to her to the core.

It is not lost on him that her head stays pressed against his heartbeat, that her fingertips follow the patterns of aura across her fingers. Subconscious, half-aware gestures, a come-down from such a high-stress state. He’d expected as much, had seen it plenty of times before. After a long, long while, he hums in a wordless question and her arms come up and around his neck easily, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss as her Light -  angelic and reverent - washes over him in grateful praise.

“Thank you,” Miyu whispers against his lips, achingly fragile. She’s still unsteady when they rise together, but her eyes are clear. It will take a while to recenter herself, but he’ll be there the whole time.

[need-a-fugue]

In the Beginning - Chapter 10

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Summary: He knew how to hide, how to either fit in seamlessly with his surroundings or lean back into the shadows to escape detection. He knew how to get around without money or supplies. He knew how to get any supplies he may need. He knew how to evade and how to disappear. What he didn’t know – from the moment he pulled Captain America’s body from the Potomac – was what the hell he was going to do now.

Warning(s): some angst, some emotional and mental turmoil…

A/N: This is the first story in a series I’ve been working on for awhile (Supernova), an AU wherein Bucky Barnes gets the girl, and a chance at a new life.

-----

He’s gotten more comfortable being in the common area, hanging out for more than the few minutes it takes to swing through and hunt down a snack. But it’s still a place that feels strangely…unwelcoming to him. Either the room is empty, which means that Bucky remains on edge the entire time, just waiting for the strange voice in the walls to call out to him and ask if he needs any assistance. Or there are… people around.

Some people, of course, are easier to handle than others. Natasha, for example… he doesn’t trust her one iota, but he understands her completely, and that makes for an oddly comfortable sort of silent interaction. Clint’s fine too…never silent, but the man has also never pressured Bucky for anything. He simply chatters away – and more often than not, his stories are pretty entertaining – and he never seems to take offense at Bucky’s lack of participation in conversations.

And then there’s Tony, master of the I don’t know you, I don’t like you, and I don’t trust you side-eye glare. Yeah, it’s safe to say that if Tony’s in the common area, Bucky’s turning on his heel and marching back out. Bruce mostly keeps to himself, which Bucky respects. And Sam, who doesn’t even live at the tower, yet somehow seems to always be here… well Sam is Sam.

And Steve. After nearly six months at the tower, Bucky and Steve have fallen back into a close relationship, but it’s different from what their friendship had been before. They’re different people now, sure, no longer idealistic kids just trying to make the world a better place. But it’s more than that. Bucky had been remembering a lot about his life before – both as Bucky Barnes and as the Winter Soldier – but there are still so many things that are so very fuzzy for him.

But Steve, he remembers everything. There’s an odd sort of pressure that spending time with Steve always brings. And while it’s usually bearable at home when they’re alone – probably in part because Bucky had followed his therapist’s advice and told Steve how he felt – when he’s in a group setting with his dear old friend, he somehow feels like he never quite measures up. Maybe it’s because Steve loves telling old stories, vying with Barton tale for tale, and even though Bucky is often in the stories, he very rarely remembers them. Or maybe it’s just because he can see how comfortable Steve is here, with all of his new, (mostly) mentally stable friends.

The point is, being in the common room for more than 5 minutes at a time is one of the things Bucky dreads most in this world. But the possibility of a chance encounter with the increasingly busy and oddly elusive Dr. Tessa Sullivan, would’ve been enough to get to him brave almost any hostile locale.

Since their night together – that first night, which she still refuses to call a date – they’d managed to be alone together a whopping total of two times. Each time required careful planning, not only to avoid raising suspicion, but also because Tessa’s schedule rarely left time for anything… fun.

At the first opening in her calendar, she told her assistant that she needed some time to go over the Avengers’ confidential medical files, which meant she was not to be interrupted. At all. By anyone. No matter what. Then she sent Claire off on an errand and had the voice in the walls beckon Bucky to her office. Once he got there they locked the door and fucked like horny, greedy teenagers on the surprisingly comfortable futon in the corner. I sleep here a lot, she’d told him when he sprawled out on the unfolded sofa, refusing to move.

Two days later, he stood for 40 minutes around the corner, just outside of her office until her assistant finally left. Then he swept in without knocking, locked the door behind him, and… well… fucked her like a horny, greedy teenager on the futon in the corner.

He’s planning on running the same op this afternoon.

But first…breakfast. He knows that Tessa often grabs something to eat on her way into the lab, so when he enters the common room, presumably in search of fruit, he’s not at all surprised to find her there. What does surprise him is the hard, swift slap to the ass that she lays on him the moment he moves through the door.

“Jesus,” he comments, turning to face her. “You greet everyone who comes in here like that?”

Her face is split by a wide, shit-eating grin, and seeing that lights a fire in his chest. “Yep,” she says winking at him.

He assumes, given her actions that no one else is in the room, but he takes a moment to scan the area just the same before following her over to the kitchenette. She reaches up to open the cabinet that Tony keeps stocked with cereal and Pop-Tarts, and when she does so, her shirt rides up, revealing a strip of pale skin above her jeans. He leans in quickly and cups his metal hand over her exposed side, chuckling when she lets out a little shriek and flinches at the cold touch. But she doesn’t actually pull away. Instead, she leans into his palm as she shrinks back down, Pop-Tarts in hand.

“That’s not breakfast,” he whispers into the skin at the back of her neck. She tilts her head to let his lips get closer and he moves his hands to cradle her hips.

“Sure it is,” she tells him, voice calm and level, even though he can feel her body tighten in his grip, feel her breath hitch when begins kissing her neck. “Says so on the box.” He pulls away and grabs the box from her. “Hey!”

“This,” he says, holding up the Pop-Tarts as she spins around to face him, “is garbage.”

Her hands fall to her hips and she stares him down. “You probably think all 21st century food is garbage.”

“Only the stuff with…” he flips the box around and reads off some of the ingredients. “High fructose corn syrup, cracker meal, and… niacinamide?” His once amused smile quickly turns into a confused and concerned grimace, and it’s so reminiscent of a bewildered toddler that she can’t help but bark out a laugh.

He drops the box on the counter behind him, giving a disgusted shake of the head as he does so.

“Let me take you to breakfast,” he says, leaning into her as the laughter settles.

“To breakfast? Is that some kind of pick-up line? Like you want to take me to breakfast tomorrow? Wink, wink.”

“No,” he says, taking her hand in his flesh-and-bone one. “Unless you want to go tomorrow?”

“And before then?”

His eyes tick to either side, making sure they’re still alone, before his leans forwarded and softly kisses her. “Uuuungh,” she moans out, pulling away. An exaggerated frown takes over face as she says, “I can’t. I have to get to the lab, and I’m sure I’ll be there all day.”

“Then let me take you to dinner tonight.”

“What’s your obsession with feeding me?” she asks with coy, crooked smile.

“I need to take you out. On a proper date.”

“You’re such a gentleman,” she mocks.

“Hey, I like… fooling around with you. I really like it. But I’d feel a lot better about things if you’d let me take you out. Officially.”

The smile disappears from her face as she takes in his words. “Okay,” she says finally. “I’ll let you take me out.”

“Thank you.” He kisses her again and she leans in and presses her warm body up against him, forcing him back a step. He hears the crinkle of metallic paper as she continues to kiss him, her left hand in his hair, her right… mysteriously absent.

A wide grin splits his face as she slowly pulls away, and he brings his hand down and wraps his metal fingers around her wrist. “Seriously?” he laughs, lifting her hand up and with it, the pack of Pop-Tarts.

“Dinner’s a long way off,” she smirks at him. Then, her face falling, “Crap. I can’t tonight. I have to run some time-sensitive experiments.” She runs her fingertips down his arm. “Maybe tomorrow?”

He takes hold of her hand once she starts tracing the outlines of the plates at his wrist. He’s still not too fond her touching the metal arm, at least not like that, not in a soft, seductive way. “You’re gonna make me wait?” he asks in a low, deep tone.

She smiles and lets out a slight, almost childlike giggle. “Yep.”

They both turn to the entranceway, heads swiveling in unison, as soft murmurs emanate from the hall. The moment he hears Sam’s loud, vivacious laugh, he drops Tessa’s hand and almost growls.

“So serious,” she mocks, tearing open her package and taking a giant bite of raw strawberry Pop-Tart before turning to leave. “I’ll see you later.” She nods a hello to the group as they enter, leaning over to give Sam his always requested high five, and saunters off to work, leaving a grumpy looking Bucky all by his lonesome.

“What was that?” Sam asks with a coy smile.

Bucky doesn’t even realize he’s talking to him until Steve comes up and shoves him with his shoulder. He looks up to see the man staring at him with an amused smirk. “What?”

“You were just following her with your eyes, all the way out.”

“I was not.”

Clint chuckles, moving over next to Sam and throwing a glance behind him as though Tessa’s still there. “You were definitely checking Doc out,” he says.

“He really was,” Sam laughs.

“He really was,” Clint repeats, folding his arms over his chest and looking straight at Bucky.

Natasha steps in, popping open a bottle of water and leaning onto the counter next to them. “So what? She’s got a nice ass. Let him look.”

Sam shrugs. “She’s got more than just a nice ass.” He turns to Clint, but keeps Bucky in his periphery as he says, “But, oh the things I’d do for that fine ass…” Clint smirks and holds back a laugh. “I’d take her and bend her over –”

“Sam…” Steve begins to chide.

But before he can so much as finish the syllable, Bucky leaps forward and grabs Sam by the collar, growling in his ear one simple word… “No.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Sam issues out, holding his hands up in surrender. “At ease, soldier.”

Steve’s already got Bucky by the shoulder, slowly peeling him off his friend. Clint steps up, unable to keep the laughter at bay. “Relax, man. He’s just messing with you.”

“Yeah,” a completely unfazed Natasha confirms. “Besides, if he so much as tried to bend Tess over anything, she’d kill him.”

“I like to think she’d take pity on me and just kick my ass a little.” Nat raises a doubting brow at him in response.

“It’s okay,” Steve says in Bucky’s ear, patting him roughly on the chest as they both take a few steps back from the others. “This is just their way of… being friendly. You know? Poking fun.”

Bucky turns to him and rolls his eyes. Yes, Steve, he thinks. I know how friends work. But even so…he turns to Sam and shoves a pointed finger in his chest. “Don’t talk about her like that again.”

“Damn, man,” he replies, actually winking at the irate former assassin. “You got it bad.”

Clint comes up to Bucky and claps him on the shoulder. “You know, if you want to ask her out, I can give you some tips.” He turns to face Steve. “No offense, Cap, but I know that talking to girls isn’t exactly your area of expertise.”

“He talks to me all the time,” Natasha quips.

Steve gets a sour look on his face. “I can talk to women. I do talk to women.”

“That’s what I just said. Actually, he talks to Tessa all the time too.” She slides over to Bucky’s left and leans in, whispers almost conspiratorially, “I think he’s been working on asking her out for about two years now.”

Bucky’s pretty sure that’s not true, but he feels his eyes widen just the same, only now realizing that there’s a very real possibility that he’s stepping on toes here.

“That’s not…” Steve rambles. “I’m not… interested… in Tessa. We’re friends. She’s one of my best friends.”

“Good,” Clint beams, as he steals Nat’s water. “Then you won’t mind us setting her up with Barnes.”

Now it’s Sam’s turn to go wide-eyed. “Wait, we’re setting them up? I thought we were just making fun of him.”

“What’s the matter, Sammy? You jealous?” Barton mocks. Sam gives him a little shove, causing him to spill water down his chin. He scoffs as he swipes at his face. “You had your chance anyway.”

“What does that mean?” Bucky asks, words leaving his mouth before he’s able to realize that it’s probably not the best idea to engage in this conversation.

“Sam asked Tessa out once and she said no,” Steve says plainly. But his eyes are alight with stifled laughter as he glances over at Sam.

“She didn’t say ‘no’,” he defends. “She said that she valued my friendship too much to risk losing it.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely a not interested,” Natasha says with a grin.

“Don’t take it personally, Sam.” Clint starts. “You’re just not her type.” He gives Bucky an assessing look, eyes moving up and down his frame. “But this one…”

“How the hell would you know what her type is?”

“Doc and I go way back,” he replies with a quick swig. He chucks the now empty water bottle in the bin and turns back to the group. “I met her ex in Minsk. Sort of.”

“You did?” Natasha leans forward, genuinely interested. “You never told me that. How did I not know that?”

“I’ve never even heard her talk about an ex,” Steve mutters almost to himself.

“Yeah, well… it didn’t end well.” He shuffles his feet into the wood floor, head down like he’s suddenly sorry he said anything and trying to think of a way back out. “Doesn’t matter,” he settles on, before pointing back at Bucky. “Point is… this is her type. Trust me.”

Bucky shakes his head and lets out a long sigh. “Okay, enough.”

“I’m just trying to help,” Barton laughs, holding his hands up apologetically as Bucky breezes past him on his way out of the common area. He turns back to the others and raises his eyebrows, voice taking on a serious tone. “Do not tell her I mentioned the ex.”

Nat throws him an incredulous glance. “Oh I’m telling her about every bit of this conversation.” She too turns to leave, tossing over her shoulder as she goes, “And I’m pretty sure we don’t need to play matchmaker to get those two together.”

[sav-wites-everything]

Always, Sweetheart - PART 1

(Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor x Reader)

Requested: no

Summary: You and your childhood best friend, Roger Taylor, jumped at the first opportunity to get a flat together when you both got accepted to the same University. Living with your rockstar best friend has plenty of perks, but when bottled up feelings and a new lead singer threatens to get in the way, you find yourself saying things without thinking.

A/N: I’ve always been a huge fan of Queen so clearly I’ve been obsessing over BoRhap lately but didn’t know if I should really push that here? A lot of you guys are Marvel or Kingsman fans, but who knows, some of you may be Queenies like me and this may draw in some new followers! Either way, I hope you all like it and make sure to leave some feedback! Enjoy!! xx (also sorry I’m garbage at actually getting out requests. I have like 6 half finished requests in my drafts)

Warnings: angst, swears, mentions of sex, a little bit of FWB!Rami Malek!Freddie Mercury x Reader mentioned

You munched lazily on your semi-burnt toast, a cup of coffee billowing steam on the tiny table in front of you. Pulling the blanket wrapped around your shoulders tighter, your eyes fell on the pair of red heels by the front door of your shared flat. It felt like a rock had been dropped into the pit of your stomach but you chalked it up to the bad toast and black coffee.

You finally tore your eyes away when you heard a bedroom door open from down the hall. Holding your breath, you prayed it wasn’t whatever girl Roger had brought home the night before. Instead, a very sleepy and hickie-covered Roger shuffled into the kitchen. He clearly didn’t notice you as he made his was to the warm coffee pot as he was rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Allowing your eyes to linger on his bare torso a little too long, you cleared your throat as a hot blush rose to your cheeks. Whatever happened to the scrawny punk you knew in grade school?

Roger jumped in fright and spun around to face you, a bit of his blonde hair sticking straight up on the left side. “Good morning, sleepy head,” you giggled into your coffee.

He clutched at his chest before taking a deep breath. “I swear to god, love, I need to put a bell on you,” he replied, his voice still gravelly with sleep.

You rolled your eyes with a grin but it quickly faded as you heard Roger’s bedroom door open again. “So is she from Economics, Intro to American Lit, or do you not know?” you mumbled, a hint of venom in your voice.

Roger just shot you a stern look as a pretty redhead slunk into the kitchen. He hated when his one-night flings stuck around so late into the morning, especially if you didn’t have class in the morning like today. It was established long ago when you two first started living together that Roger could bring back whomever he wanted and vice versa. Although, the last time you brought a man home was about 10 months ago and he didn’t even reciprocate in bed.

Roger always felt embarrassed the next morning, though. Sure, you felt a little awkward too, but you more so felt... sad. Not that you would ever tell Roger this. Lord knows how quickly you’d be having to find another place to live if your best friend found out you had been harboring feelings for him since high school.

As the redhead stared at you wide-eyed, you gave her a forced smile. “Roggie... I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” she said, her voice shakey with obvious fear. You couldn’t help but grimace at the nickname she had given Roger. You could feel Roger shudder at it too but what really caught your attention was the scoff that came out of his mouth.

“She’s not my girlfriend” he replied with a hint of... was it laughter? Was he laughing at the thought of you being his girlfriend? “She’s just my roommate.”

You swallowed down the lump in your throat and blinked back the tears that pricked at your eyes. Standing up with your now empty coffee cup in your hand, you brushed past the redhead who was now much more relaxed and relieved. “Yup, just his roommate,” you mumbled before heading to your own bedroom, all but slamming the door shut.

Roger winced where he stood against the kitchen counter. His eyes remained glued to the chair you had just been sitting in. He didn’t even avert his gaze when... Amanda? Yeah, Amanda. When Amanda snakes her arms around his neck and began planting kisses on his jaw. He hated making you upset with the girls he brought home. This was your home too and he shouldn’t make you uncomfortable like this.

Removing Amanda’s arms from around his neck, he finally looked at her. “I think you should go,” he said monotonously.

She looked at him with shock that quickly diffused into anger. “You men are all the same,” she spat before rushing to gather her things. Roger dragged a frustrated hand down his face as she slammed the front door shut behind her. He turned around to finally pour himself some coffee when he heard the front door opening again. This was a new one. He’d never had an angry girl come storming back in.

Rushing out into the hallway, his heart sank when he saw it was you leaving. You normally spent your days off with him, either at home in front of the TV or down at your favorite cafe. “Where are you going?” he asked, his voice weaker than he intended.

You had the door propped open with your hip as you were finishing tying a blue scarf around your neck. “Out,” you said bluntly.

Roger let out a chuckle but no smile rose to your face. “I can see that...” He had to pause and swallow hard as he noticed you were wearing a low cut shirt and a tight skirt as you readjusted the fur coat you had on. You weren’t just going out. You were meeting someone. A male someone. “Who are you going to see?”

You watched as Roger crossed his arms over his strong chest and you had to tear your eyes back up to his face before you began blushing again. “A guy I met in my design class. What’s it matter to you?” You didn’t mean to sound so harsh but the way he laughed when he said you weren’t his girlfriend still stung.

“Fine,” he huffed as he threw his arms up, “I just won’t show worry and interest in my best friend’s well being.”

You let out a sigh and walked towards Roger, letting the door shut with a soft click. He knew what you were doing and instantly opened his arms to you. You gave him a tight hug before mumbling “I’m sorry I’m being a jerk. You guys were just kinda loud last night and I didn’t sleep well.” It wasn’t a complete lie but you weren’t about to tell him that your heart aches for a love you knew would never be returned.

He held you closer and even ventured to place a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I’m sorry too, love. I’ll try to remember better not to bring someone home when you have the day off.” With one last squeeze he pushed you away gently, still holding your shoulders. “So who is this guy, huh?”

You blushed a bit and looked down at your feet. “He’s just a good friend from class. He asked me to go with him to a new art exhibit downtown.” Looking back up at Roger, you noticed his eyebrows knit together and a soft frown on his lips. “I think you’d actually really like him, Rog. I have to go though. I’m already late.”

Hesitantly stepping out of Roger’s grip, you made your way back to the front door. “Be safe, love.”

You threw a glance over your shoulder with a smile, “Always, sweetheart.”

Like that you were gone and Roger was left feeling like someone had ripped his heart out. He had to remind himself that you could go out with anyone you wanted. You didn’t know that Roger was madly in love with and often dreamed about what it would be like to be the one to take you out to art exhibits and fancy dinners, his hand never leaving yours. If he couldn’t call you his, he could at least always be there for you.

With a sigh, he turned to the phone on the hallway table and called up his friend Brian to see if he was up for some band practice. He needed to let out some pent up frustration.

*******

You closed the front door as quietly as possible. With your shoes clutched in your right hand and a belly swimming with alcohol, you softly stepped down the hallway. It was around 3 am and you didn’t want to wake Roger. You knew he had a long day of classes and then rehearsal for his band’s, Smile, concert tomorrow night.

As you passed the living room, however, you noticed a lamp still on and Roger lounging on the couch with a magazine straddling his bare torso. Why’d he always have to be shirtless?

His chest rose and fell with gentle breaths as he slept soundly. Stepping towards him, you grabbed a blanket off of the arm chair. As you got close, however, the floor creaked beneath you.

Cursing softly, Roger’s eyes fluttered open and landed on you. His lips turned up into a sleepy smile. “(Y/N)...” Your heart threatened to best of out your chest at the sound of your name on his sleepy tongue.

“Let’s get you to bed, Rog,” you said leaning down to hook an arm under one of his.

As you bent forward though, he noticed the growing purple mark on your throat and your smudged lipstick. He grabbed your wrist a little roughly, all hint of him being tired leaving his face. “Where the hell have you been? What time is it?” he snapped.

Yanking your arm out of his tight grip, you back away from him. “With Freddie, you twit,” you snapped back. “And it’s about 3:30,” you said a little more sheepishly.

“This is the third time this week you’ve gotten home this late!” The rise in volume of his voice caused you to shrink back even more. “And I thought he was just a friend but you’ve clearly been shagging him!” He pointed right at the hickie on your neck.

You clenched your fists and felt your face grow hot. “First of all, my sex life is none of your business, Roger!” you yelled back at him. Roger’s eyes went wide, as if he was just now realizing he had yelled at you. “And second, we are just friends! Just friends can shag each other! But that’s something you clearly don’t understand since you have a perfectly good female friend in your own house who cares about you and is more than willing to climb on top of you!” You quickly snapped your mouth shut, the realization of what you had just said dawning on you. You said you would fuck Roger. To Roger.

Roger looked just as bewildered as you felt. His palms became sweaty and he was at a loss for words. This never happened when a girl told him the things she would do to him. But this was so much different. This was (Y/N). His best friend. The love of his life. “You...” Roger began, nervously, “You want to... with me?”

Wringing the straps of your shoes in your hands, you quickly backpeddaled. “N-no. I was just... it was um... an example.. I just...” You stuttered as Roger stood from the couch. It felt as if he was towering over you and although the pair of you could be found in each other’s arms on the couch on a Sunday afternoon, this kind of closeness felt so foreign.

His face was mere inches from your own and his breath smelt of cigarettes and chocolate. “You just what?” he breathed. Just then, however, he could smell the beer on your breath. His heart sank. You were drunk. You didn’t mean what you said.

“I just need to go to bed,” you almost whispered, quickly turning away from Roger and all but running to your bedroom. You closed your door harshly and locked it, leaning against the door and sliding to the floor. Your breathing came out in ragged bursts.

Roger had followed you to your bedroom and knelt in front of the door. He could hear that you were on the verge of sobbing. “(Y/N),” he breathed. You grew silent. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. You’re right, what you do is none of my business. I just... I worry about you.” You remained quiet. Roger wiggled his fingers through the crack below your door. “Do you forgive me, love?”

He felt your smaller hand rest over his calloused fingers, a soft smile spreading across his face. “Always, sweetheart,” you whispered.

A/N: Okay, so this was kind of garbage but I think I am for sure going to add to it. I just want to kind of test the waters and see what you guys think. Make sure to leave feedback! xx

[cinnamonrollstark]

Irondad Bingo: Trope: Angst

My third Irondad Bingo. After that, theres only two more to go (but I'm gonna keep filling it out for fun! Hope yall enjoy. Make sure to read the first two just to get the full impact.) @irondadbingo

◇◇◇

He finds himself gritting his teeth against his pillow. There's so much he wants to say, to disclose, but to think of her brings on a wave of pain, just under his sternum. The sound of her name is a punch to the gut every time it hits him. May is dead.

Today is her funeral. Peter should be getting ready, showering- he hasn't since the night before she died. He's usually compulsive about being healthy, sanitary, and clean, bordering on obsessive, but he cannot fathom why, right now. Why should he take care of himself when May is dead?

He knows that this logic makes no sense, but right now, it does. At least, it makes sense to Peter.

He's still wearing the pajamas he slept in for the past three nights. Peter stares at the wall, curled up in a blanket in Tony's guest room. This is where he goes when he needs to be alone, but most nights, he sleeps between May and Pepper. He hopes that they don't mind, and feels an unbearable burden to them. He also wishes he'd been with May, when she crashed, so they could've been together.

He feels. He feels guilty for being ungrateful for his life. He feels dependent on Tony and that makes him feel small and childish. He feels broken in every imaginable way. He feels like he would be okay if the earth just swallowed him up, right now, leaving a blank space where he once was.

He feels that if he turned to dust right now, that would be okay.

Then, Tony's knocking on the door. Peter closes his eyes and wishes everything would disappear. "Kiddo?" Asks Tony, voice muffled by the plank of wood in between them. "Pep made spaghetti. Do you want to come join us?"

Pete's stomach growls at the prospect of food. Everything about greif makes him feel sick, like he shouldn't eat, or can't, out of respect, but he's hungry as hell. "Okay," Peter calls, and Tony knocks on the door,

.. ..-. —- ..- . -.— —- ..-

And Peter smiles, softly. He knocks back on the wall, .. .-.. --- ...- . -.-- --- ..- - --- ---

I love you too.

This ritual started when reflecting on memories yesterday. It was a thing of comfort between he and his father- then Ben, then lastly, May- communication through Morse code at night. When Peter was little, and had nightmares, waking him abruptly would just end up scaring him more. So instead, each of his caretakers as time passed would knock on his wall, Morse code messages of safety and comfort until he'd wake up and reply, a soft knock on the wall against his bed. Even after the nightmares stopped, Peter and May would knock on each others walls in code after they fought, an apology with no voice.

Peter likes the sound of it, and it makes this place feel a little bit more like home. Tony's feet shuffle away towards the kitchen, and Peter just briefly checks his reflection before heading out.

When he gets to the dining room, Pepper and Tony are chatting about something completely and entirely far too normal, and Peter decides that they were just talking about him and are pretending not too. He doesn't mind. He doesn't have the energy to even care.

"It smells good," he says, and it does, but part of him still feels guilty for some reason.

"Thank you Peter," says Pepper, who ladles a fistful of spaghetti out from the pot at the center of the table to Tony's plate.

"You get any sleep?" She asks, and it takes a moment for Peter to remember that he had said that he was going to nap, but didn't actually follow suit.

"Some," he says, which isn't true, but they wouldn't question him now. "But for the most part I just layed there."

"I hear that," says Pepper, and Tony shoots her a look.

"Mind out of the gutter, Tony. That's not what I meant."

"I should hope so," Tony jokes, and Peter laughs, even though it's kind of gross. He almost doesn't see the glint in Tony's eyes, a spark of some odd form of pride, ignited by that laugh. He makes a mental note to laugh more, even if it's forced, just to see that look.

"So," Pepper starts, a more serious tone blanketing some bad message she's about to relay, "are you ready for tonight?"

Tony falters a bit, didn't want to get to the serious stuff so fast. "Pepper. Not right now."

Peter shrugs. "No, it's fine. I'm ready, I guess. Not something I'm exactly looking forward to, though."

"No," Pepper agrees, "of course not. Just know we'll be there the whole time."

"Thank you," says Peter, taking a sip of his water. "Spaghetti is delicious by the way."

°°°

Tony straightens Peter's tie, dusting off the shoulders of his suit and spinning him around to gaze at his reflection. Peter's lean frame shrinks under the weight of his funeral clothes.

"You look good, bud," says Tony, brushing a stray curl of Peter's down. It bounces back up within seconds.

"You look good. And what Pepper said, it's um, it's okay not to be ready, you know. I don't think anyone really ever is."

Peter leans back against the wall and bites back the sting and dull throb of tears in his throat and eyes.

"Were you?" Peter asks, maybe it's a stupid question, but Tony seems to soften at the question, almost as if he didn't expect it.

"Absolutely not. I'm still not ready for my parents to be gone, and it's been twenty five years."

"Does it ever," Peter starts, and the tears come, and he can't stop them, "Does it ever go away?"

Tony understands what he means, maybe because he's Tony, or maybe because he's been hurt so much in his lifetime.

"I'm not going to lie to you," he says, and through the mess of tears in his eyes, he can see that Tony's struggling to hold it in, too.

"The pain? It never really does go away. But it gets smaller. Because when it starts, it's like this suffocating ball of hurt, you know?" And even Tony is crying, unabashedly, "but as you grow, the ball stays the same size, so after a while it just sometimes rolls around and hits you, where it hurts. And it will hurt just as much as it did in the beginning. The only difference is, it's not so constant. After a while, it only happens every now and then."

Tony places a hand on either side of Peter's curly head. "It gets better, Pete. But right now, you just have to let it hurt like hell."

And he pulls him in, wraps him up in a tight embrace. Peter's hair fans out against Tony's broad chest. For a moment, Peter finds something to be grateful for: the solid, steady rhythm of someone else's heartbeat.

"Okay." Peter whispers against Tony's chest, calming his own breathing as he feels the precise, carefully practiced drumbeat of,

.. ..-. —- ..- . -.— —- ..-