#gotta cut them real neat and put on my wall!

[slashingdisneypasta]

I was bored. I was at Kmart and they have printers there.

I couldn't help myself XD

[bitchassbucky]

.zip

Word Count: 2k

Warning/s: toxic/abusive relationship dynamics, gaslighting and manipulation, abduction, injuries were mentioned, stalking, dark!bucky x dark!reader, emotionally/mentally unstable!reader, dismemberment (not gore-y but still), three very special character mentions, shady corporate stuff, career sabotage?, food mention, sedation/drugging, f-words.

A/N: oh my god, this is the final chapter of CTRL. to all who read from the start, thank y'all so fucking much - from the bottom of my big-ass heart, thank you so much for coming along with this journey. this is my first FINISHED series, oh my god. to @babyboibucky (CTRL's number one fan), @sarge-barnes-sir, and @borikenlove thank you so much for indulging my inner degenerate GHJSDFG and for screaming (affectionately) at me when i first let y'all read the finished draft.

BUT THIS IS NOT THE END (just yet), i will be uploading TWO epilogues very soon: the explicit version and the not-so-explicit version. stay tuned!

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

epilogue:

.eps (explicit)

.eps (cut)

CTRL playlist CTRL moodboard

Your demeanor, character, even tone, changed.

Calculated, cold, unnerving.

But you sat there like a housewife in front of her husband, eating spaghetti and meatballs. Acting all dandy like there isn’t a man strapped onto the chair four feet away from you.

“C’mon, darling, eat! I made your favorite,” your eyes twinkled as Bucky helplessly tugged on his restraints, “oh, sorry, you’re tied up.”

Hm, sick in the head, bad for the heart.

“What do you want?” Oh, wow, even talking hurts for him. His throat is all dried up, he tasted something bitter under his tongue.

You chuckled, moving half a meatball around your mostly empty plate, “for you to stop treating me like I’m stupid.” You spear the meat with your fork, swirling it in the sauce, “I know you’ve been… checking in on me, Bucky.”

Oh, fuck.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I was-- I mean, look at you--” He’s making it worse. You’re mad. You’re angry because he was being a good friend.

He only did that because you were lonely and he’s right: you are lonely.

So lonely that you’re willing to kidnap a grown man to keep you company, “I’m so sad for you.”

“You’re aware you’re the one’s been tied up, right?” You’re curt as you should be, scooting over near Bucky to feed him.

“I can’t eat that—” If he wasn’t sitting down and tied, Bucky would’ve vaulted over you and called the neighbors, she’s fucking crazy!

You giggled, rolling your eyes as if he had the freedom to make a choice right now, “if you’re thinking of screaming… More than half of my neighbors are felons or on parole, I doubt that they’ll call 911.”

Jutting forward the fork, you let the prongs gently touch Bucky’s lips, “now, eat! We have so much to talk about.”

“No. I don’t-- I’m not hungry.” He shakes his head, the fork hitting his chin and clanking down the floor.

“Just eat the fucking food, Steve!”

Bucky flinched at your sudden outburst. The words—the name—seeping in a moment later. Steve? Who the hell is Steve? Was he your husband? Boyfriend? His head throbbed again, his mouth filling with saliva like he’s about to throw up.

You kneel down, pulling a napkin from the table to wipe the meat and the sauce from the floor.

“This better not stain.”

—

He promised thrice.

Once over pasta and meatballs, once over dessert, and once when you were clearing the table.

You relented, of course. Half because you love him and half because it’s getting annoying.

“As long as you don’t leave me, okay?”

“Yes, I promise. I won’t leave you.”

Bucky’s still seating on the dinner chair, slightly slumped without the ropes holding him up, “look, I’m really sorry about the anesthetic, I went overboard with it.” You look over to him—at least he’s regaining his fingers and arms again.

“It’s okay, babe, I wouldn’t trust me either.” If he could stand up, he’d go over and hug you. Helping with the dishes, peppering you with sweet kisses.

A genuine laugh slips out of your lips, “ugh, still… I’m really sorry.”

The last of the plates were neatly stacked, cups and cutleries were placed gently on a drying rack. It was getting late, you could tell.

“I’m not mad, by the way.” You muse, prompting Bucky to lean forward, listening to you.

“What do you mean?” He takes your hand into his, ever so gently.

“You did that,” you squeeze his hand back, gazing into his soulful eyes, “because you love me.”

Did you know that some people could read microexpressions well? Bucky went through a whole lot of them before answering, “of course, I do.”

Contemplating whether you call him out on it or not, you hum, placing a gentle hand on his jaw, “it’s okay, you’ll learn how to love me.”

He has to. He has no other choice.

Bucky clears his throat, “have you seen my phone?” His tone was hopeful, upbeat, maybe he can reach out to someone, anyone, before you can do any more damage.

“Yeah, ‘s on the couch.”

He tried to move, he really did. Bucky’s fairly strong, he can bench an easy 140 on a good day. But even the beefiest motherfuckers have no match for Propofol.

“Don’t worry about your friends, they’re not worried about you, Buck.” The coolness of your tone sends Bucky into a panic—again. “D’you wanna check your messages though? There’s a lot of ‘em.”

Grabbing his phone, you asked Siri to read him his latest notifications.

Urgent: Notice of Immediate Termination

From Joaquin: Where are you, man?

From John W.: Do you have copies?

Urgent: Notice of Immediate Termination

Urgent: Gross Misconduct

From Joaquin: Bucky, what the fuck?

From Samuel Wilson: Pick up the phone, Barnes. You’re fired.

17 missed calls from an unknown number

From John W.: I knew you were a freak but holy shit, dude!

72 text messages from an unknown number

Bucky never really liked horror movies. It made him jumpy and anxious. Too paranoid, even. But now? Now he’s sure that people have never experienced sheer fright before.

His toes cramped inside his boots, his feet were cold, sweating. The little hairs on his legs stood up, goosebumps littering the entirety of his body. If he held his breath, he’s sure he could hear his heart hammering out of his chest. The blood rushes past his ears and onto the base of his skull—he’s gonna be sick.

“What,” he gulped back the saliva pooling in his mouth, “what did you do?”

You’re irritatingly calm, “well, I mean… We’re already together, what do you need those for, right?”

Putting a warm hand over his forehead, you cooed, “poor thing, you look sick.”

—

Bucky thinks it’s well past midnight when the anesthetic wore off.

His limbs were heavy, he had to lean on the wall every couple of steps to regain his balance. Helpless. He’s helpless and you both know it. As if it’s a bear trap, Bucky carefully took his phone from the coffee table.

Why would you leave it unattended?

The screen lights up as soon as he picked up, his lock screen littered with ‘fuck yous’, ‘sicko’, and his personal favorite, ‘motherfucker.’

Ignoring the glaring messages, he went straight for the emergency dialler and—you took out his SIM card, snapping it into two neat pieces, placing it beside the phone.

Bitch.

The golden surface of the card was scratched too, he can’t do anything, use it as a toothpick, maybe? His phone was just as good as a paperweight.

He looks out of the window, limping towards it. Even if he could climb over, it would take him forever to get onto the street. Your neighbors would probably think that he’s just on a bad trip.

“It’s bolted shut. Perks of living alone as a single female.” Your voice made him flinch back, like a kid whose hand was halfway down the cookie jar.

Bucky plays it off with a cough, he can’t be weak now, “no, babe, I was checking out a noise. You ready for bed?”

You smiled softly, taking his hand and draping his arm on your shoulders as you prop him against you, “almost, big guy. Gotta get you settled in bed first. Are you tired?”

Nodding, Bucky kisses your temple, “yeah.” He just needs to play with your sick little games until he regains his strength.

Where would he go? His reputation and his job are besmirched, his apartment is probably crawling with forensics too.

“You fell down and banged your head earlier. Nasty cut on your head too. I told you to not tire yourself much.”

You hit and drugged me but I digress, “Yes, darling. ‘M sorry.”

“You scared me, Buck. I thought you were dead.” Are these tears forming in your eyes?

“I’m not leaving you, not by any chance. I promise.”

He promises a fourth time.

—

Your bedroom was bigger than he thought. But of course, he only saw your desk and your bed through the webcam.

Save from the Ted Bundy-esque corkboard you have in front of your workspace, he feels weirdly at home. You tucked him in, reminding him to wake up every two hours for the painkillers.

“You’re not going to bed?” He muses from behind you, all cocooned in your blankets.

“Just need to take this phone call real quick, babe.” Your back was turned from him as you work on your company laptop. He noticed that the webcam is covered with white tape.

The sound of an incoming call filled the room before you quickly answer it, your voice turning hoarse and raspy as if you’ve been crying.

Hi, Mr. Wilson. I’m so sorry for the late call. Do I- do I need to come in tomorrow? I just... I don’t feel comfortable facing everyone—I used all my home hours this week and—

Miss L/N, I’m glad you reached out to me. Is it okay if I record this call for security purposes? It’s just for you, me, and the HR department.

You turned to Bucky, your face is stone-cold but your voice belonged to someone so utterly helpless.

No, you don’t have to call into work tomorrow… Or any other day.

A dainty gasp and a fucking sob comes out of your mouth, your eyes were telling a different story.

Am I fired?

God, no. Please, Miss L/N, don’t worry about that. We want you with us through this entire debacle. We want you to take some time off—paid. We’ll also grant you… a grievance package.

You could almost hear what he would say next.

As long as you don’t talk to any members of the press or any journalists until our friends in the PR department can clean this up.

A triumphant smile creeps on your bare features, putting a finger in front of your lips, you mimic a ‘shh’ gesture to Bucky.

You round up another mirthless sob as the CEO drones on about the bureaucracy of this whole thing.

He was really nice to me, you know? He took me out on dinners and lunches. He even brought me to his place and I– nothing happened but I can’t stop thinking about it.

I’m really sorry, Miss L/N. I thought he was…

A good guy? I really thought so too.

Please stay offline for a bit, just for the weekend, alright? Someone from the HR department will be in touch with you for the process. We don’t wanna be a hassle more than what Barnes is. On our behalf, please accept our deepest apologies.

Jesus, this guy had the PR department cook up an apology letter.

Thank you—thank you so much, Mr. Wilson. I’ll keep in touch.

You burst out in laughter a second after the call ended. Hearty laughter, the one where you can feel your belly tightening.

“Did you hear how good I was, baby? Oh my god, we had them fooled.”

We? Fuck your ‘we.’

You slide over the covers, propping up yourself with your elbow as you turn to face Bucky, “don’t worry, you don’t need them anymore. You have me, yeah? We have each other.”

—

Out of the most bizarre things that happened to him last week, finding dismembered fingers in the fridge was the least of his concerns.

“Honey!” Bucky calls out, holding the ziplock bag with a pair of tongs.

You bound down the stairs, your laptop in hand as you squint, “what am I looking at?”

Bucky hesitated, maybe he’s going insane too, “fingers. Dismembered fingers—are these yours?”

Setting down the laptop onto the table, you peck him on the cheek, smiling as if him holding a baggie with human remains is just your Sunday normal, “god, I hope not. I need my hands to do things.”

As soon as you look back at him, you dropped the facade: “those are Steve’s. Well, used to be.”

Bucky’s afraid to ask the question where’s the rest of him?

“You know the term pinky promise, right? Well, it has a dark origin.”

Just as fast as a bustling train, Bucky rakes his brain for all the times he promised you something. Hoping that he won’t end up with a stump for a hand.

One vividly bright memory is seared into his brain though, the days blurred together with sharp edges and mismatched colors: we love how we were taught to love.

So, who taught you how to love like this?

[lyricalporcupine]

Talking about how much they love the other to friends/family pls 😊

Here ya go! I did both Yasha and Beau and there is a time skip. I also got carried away with Beau’s part so oops lmao

~~~

“You’re such a fucking sap,” Molly cajoled.

Yasha smirked and shoved her friend, causing him to stumble a bit on the street. He laughed as he regained his balance and turned around to face Yasha, walking backwards without regard to the other people.

“It’s true, darling,” he drawled with his own smirk.

Yasha felt herself flush and knew her face was red to the tips of her pointed ears. “She makes me happy,” Yasha said simply with a shrug and soft smile.

“Ugh,” Molly exclaimed, turning with a flourish that allowed Yasha close the small distance between them to allow them to walk side by side again. “Why?”

Yasha’s soft smile grew. “She’s strong. She’s really funny. She’s smart as hell. She’s honest,” Yasha said with a chuckle, “even if it hurts.”

“She’s an asshole,” Molly countered, to which Yasha laughed.

“I like that she’s an asshole,” Yasha said with a shrug.

Molly smirked at her. “You would.”

Yasha bumped his shoulder and he bumped hers in return.

“Anything else,” Molly asked after a few moments. “What else attracts you to the grumpy one?”

Yasha was silent for a while, hands shoved into her coat pockets. She was quiet for so long that Molly figured she wasn’t going to answer. But then, softly, Yasha said, “She makes me feel safe.”

Molly stared up at his friend. He knew exactly what that meant for her and how important it was. He finally realized that, to Yasha, Beau meant something so precious to her. Something Yasha had been looking for for years that Molly himself had tried to give her. Beau, to Yasha, meant home.

He huffed, his breath drifting up in front of him as steam in the cold air. He linked his arm through Yasha’s and pushed into her side. “You love her.” It wasn’t a question.

Yasha gave a small nod. “So much.”

Molly heaved a dramatic sigh. “Does this mean I can’t tease her anymore,” he asked with a pout.

Yasha chuffed. “She’d probably think you were sick if you didn’t bicker.”

“Well I am all about keeping up appearances,” he said with a self important sniffle.

Yasha laughed outright. “You’re an asshole,”’she said with all the affection she could muster for the tiefling. Which was quite a lot.

“Yes, I am,” he agreed happily. Then he smiled up at her. “But you like assholes. Remember?”

Yasha smirked down at him before kissing him on his horn. “Yes, I do.”

~~~~~~

It was a rare event that Beau visited her parents. She hated doing it, mostly because of her father. But she went, at least once a month, just to see TJ. Beau’s disdain for her parents wasn’t his fault and Beau hoped, that by spending time with him that he wouldn’t pick up their shitty attitude. As the years trudged on, TJ, thankfully, didn’t seem to be anything like their father.

Instead, much to their parents’ chagrin, TJ had instead picked up his sister’s mannerisms, quick wit, and snark. And as a pre-teen, it was only getting worse. Or better, if you asked Beau, who encouraged him.

Despite this, their parents would allow TJ to visit his sister for a week or so, mainly during the summer while school was out. He’d pack a bag and all but run to her car when she showed up and throw himself at her.

Now they sat on the floor of Beau and Yasha’s living room, playing a racing game TJ brought with him. They were neck and neck, tied in their wins. This was the last race and as

Beau was poised for a victory, Yasha walked out of the bedroom and kissed the top of Beau’s head, which caused her to completely forget the game and crash into a wall as she turned her attention to her fiancé.

“I’m meeting Molly,” she said as she checked her purse. Yasha wore a sun dress, something she didn’t often wear, and turned to smile at Beau and TJ when he turned to look at her after crossing the finish line. “I’ll be back later. I was thinking burgers for dinner?”

TJ’s face lit up. “And milkshakes,” he asked hopefully.

Yasha smiled and walked over to ruffle his slightly curly and very shaggy hair. “Only if you let Beau win,” Yasha teased.

“Oh, nevermind then,” he said and turned back to the tv.

“You little asshole,” Beau said with a laugh.

“Beau!”

“What,” Beau asked defensively. “He knows I’m kidding!”

“I know she’s kidding,” TJ echoed.

Yasha sighed and bent to kiss Beau. “Behave,” she said as she headed for the door.

An echo of “No!” followed her out the door.

Beau and TJ smiled at each other as he picked a new game and Beau set her controller aside, content to watch him play.

“Dad says you’re engaged,” TJ said as he got up and shuffled through his games. He looked over at Beau as she relocated to the couch.

“Yuppers,” she replied. “I was gonna talk to you about that, actually.” She smiled at him and asked, “Want to be a ring bearer?”

“I can’t be your best man,” he asked with a grin.

Beau laughed and raised up her arm, flattening her hand, palm down. “Sorry, you gotta be be at least this tall.”

He glared and flipped her off. She only laughed harder which caused him to smile. “Sure, I can be a ring bearer.”

“Excellent,” Beau said. “Yasha will be thrilled I finally asked.”

“When’s the wedding,” he asked as he finished picking a game and came to sit beside his sister, picking up his controller on the way.

“Next fall,” Beau answered. “Yasha likes the colors.”

“Neat,” TJ replied. “You and Yasha have been together a long time.”

Beau chuckled. “You sound like my friends. They think it’s overdue.”

TJ shrugged. “Maybe they’re right.”

Beau shrugged back. “Eh, we got there in the end. All that matters.”

“You inviting Dad,” TJ asked.

“Well if you and Mom are gonna be there, kinda have to invite the old man, too,” Beau said.

“I could accidentally on purpose break his leg so he has to stay home,” TJ offered.

Beau laughed. “Then you and Mom would have to stay home and take care of him.” She gave him a sideways smile. “Thanks for the offer, though, little brother.”

“Anytime,” he said with a laugh. “So, who asked who?”

Beau smiled and flashed her left hand and waggled her fingers until TJ turned to look at the small blue diamond on her ring finger. “She did.”

TJ looked at the ring then up at is sister. “She has poor taste.”

Beau’s mood fell a bit. “Like you’re some ring expert.”

“Not the ring,” he said. “You.”

Beau made a squawking noise and shoved TJ’s shoulder. “Fuck you!”

He laughed as he fell onto his side. “Fuck you, back!” He never paused in his game.

TJ eventually sat back and smiled. “So,how did you know?”

“How did I know what,” Beau asked.

“How did you know she was ‘the one,’” he asked, laying his controller down to air quote.

Beau smirked. “Really want to know? It’s sappy shit.”

TJ shrugged. “I mean. I did ask.”

“Fair.” Beau repositioned herself and draped her leg over the couch arm. “I always thought she was hot, ya know?”

“She is very pretty,” TJ cut in.

Beau smirked. “I’ll be sure to tell her you said that.”

TJ whipped around to face Beau, his dark skin turning darker with a blush. “Don’t you fucking dare!”

Beau laughed and gently nudged him. “Don’t be a shit and maybe I won’t.” TJ pouted at her and Beau laughed harder. “Anyway. She’s always been hot. And she’s sweet as hell. A literal fucking angel, ya know?”

TJ was nodded like he did, in fact, know.

“But there was a moment, so fucking small, that sealed the deal,” Beau said with a dreamy sigh.

“What was it,” TJ asked, finally pausing his game and turned to Beau, wholly focused on her and the story now.

“We’d been dating for a few months,” Beau continued. “And while out doing some errands, we decided, on a whim, to stop at this antiques store. Nothing there caught my eye,” Beau said before quickly standing and heading over to a bookshelf next to the tv. It held books, of course, but also a few knick knacks. Beau reached for a small clay figurine of a dog, one of a set of five, and turned back to TJ.

“She bought this set of dog figures,” Beau said, a dopey grin on her face. “She had been so excited to have found them. As excited as if they’d been real dogs.” Still holding the figure, Beau walked back over to the couch and sat down and handed the dog to TJ to look at. “You don’t really remember, cause you were still pretty little, but Yasha used to be really standoffish. She was quiet and didn’t talk much.” Beau smiled at her brother. “You fell in love with her immediately, nearly forgetting all about me when we came to visit.”

TJ blushed at Beau’s words.

Beau smiled warmly at him. “That was one of the first times she really came out of her shell.” Beau’s eyes slid shut as she recalled the memory, a large grin on her face. “She was so beautiful in that moment.” Beau’s eyes opened but she didn’t seem to really see TJ in front of her, still lost in her memories. Then she blinked and her eyes focused. “It was one of the cutest fucking things I’d ever seen. The way she lit up, little brother. Brighter than the sun.

“That’s when I knew I would spend the rest of my life with her.”

She smiled at her brother, who simply stared back. He finally handed back the clay dog and nodded. “You were right.”

Beau took the figure and cradled it to her chest. “About what?”

“It really was sappy shit.” Then he smiled at her.

Beau launched from her spot and tackled him, lightly pinching his shoulder as she sat on him.

They eventually came apart, laughing and sweaty from their tussle. Beau put the figure back on the shelf, grateful it didn’t break, and sat back on the couch. TJ went back to his game and they were content in their silence.

Finally TJ said, “I’m really happy you have Yasha. And I’m happy she has you, too.”

Bea smiled and ruffled TJ’s hair. “And I’m happy you’re here, too. We both love you.”

“Ugh,” TJ groaned. “Stop.”

Beau laughed and turned back towards the tv, happy with how her life had shaped up to be.

[murderousginger]

Pretty but Naive

Part 2 of Cops and Robbers

Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Some steamy kisses. They're criminals guys, they do bad things.

Word count: 5.4k

Note: This took quite a turn from it's original idea. I hurt my own feelings writing a part, just know that. Take a deep breath and enjoy the ride, darlings!

Tagging: @imagine-that-100 @blinder-secrets​ @rae-you-gotta-be-kidding-me​

Working at The Garrison was so much easier than Sabini's club. After the night that John drove you home to Birmingham, you had started work the next afternoon and quickly picked up the routine. 

No more skimpy or overly shiny dresses. A plain cotton one did the trick and breathed better as you ran around to tables and across the bar to refill drinks. You were back home, so almost everyone knew who you were and why you were there so there were almost no issues with wandering hands or vile words. An occasional drunkard misstepped, but it was nowhere near as bad as London. You were generally happier and making the same amount of money as before.

Harry was a good boss and not long after you were taken on, Arthur bought The Garrison. The boys did their business there anyway so it was only smart they own it. Nothing much changed afterwards. Harry still ran things and you were a hard worker as well as a friend of the Shelby's so you were well cared for.

Except for once. 

On a very busy night, you went to pass around a round of beers to a group of younger Peaky Blinders boys; Finn and Isaiah leading the group.

"Oy, Finn, be a sweetheart and pass this to Isaiah," you said as you handed two beers to the youngest Shelby. He and Isaiah had chosen the seats with their backs to the wall, their friends surrounding them in the other chairs. 

"Yes'm," Finn said as he passed the second beer to Isaiah. "Any way I could get a nip of whiskey?"

Finn eyed you curiously as you stopped handing out beers on the tray and stood up, wiping your hands on the apron around your dress.

"How old are you now, Finny?" You said. "Fourteen, fifteen?"

"There's abouts," he replied, puffing out his chest. "I run things around for Tommy and even play lookout sometimes. I'm grown."

"Hmm," you considered. "I think Tommy'd still prefers you off the heavy until you're at least 17-18 like 'saiah over here, eh?" 

You started leaning back over and passing out the drinks as the group started to laugh and Finn turned red around the ears. He sipped his beer in defeat. You were almost finished passing out drinks when you felt a teenage hand slap your ass and squeeze.

"What is she, Finn, to be calling you Finny and denying you whiskey?" The boy asked. "Is she your old wet nurse?"

The other Blinders teens laughed along with him except for Finn and Isaiah. Both had wide eyes as you slowly stood up to look down upon the teen with a scowl and a cocked eyebrow.

"I did nanny Finny while he was younger," you said evenly. "I've also run more errands for Pol and the boys than you could imagine while you were still playing in the dirt."

You eyed the boy sternly as you felt the heat rise in your gut and your anger increase.

"If I asked, you'd be dead by morning," you said, teeth bared. "But I won't ask, I'll just cut you m'self. So kindly put your hands on your beer and off my arse."

The teen's eyes were wide as his hand dropped from you and went to his drink. His eyes cast down as he let out the smallest "yes ma'am" you had ever heard. 

You nodded, looking up at the rest of the table. 

"Now," you said, expelling your breath and putting a real smile back on, "can I get you boys anything else?" 

A quiet round of "No ma'am" and "No (Y/N)" echoed around the table. 

"Good boys," you said as you picked up your tray and walked away.

The table erupted with laughter behind you as you left. You heard Isaiah and Finn immediately begin to tease the boy and you smiled your way back to behind the bar.

"Always had a way with the boys, didn't you, (Y/N)?" Tommy teased as he slipped out of the private room and sat at the bar. 

"Never had a problem with the ones that weren't easily afraid," you retorted with a wink. "Who wants to keep the yellow ones around, anyhow?"

Tommy chuckled.

----

On slow days, you had time to sit in the private room with the boys and shoot the breeze. On a particularly slow day, Tommy had the others running errands for him and he had decided to sit at the empty bar and talk to you.

"(Y/N)," Tommy asked as he eyed you before taking a drink of his whiskey. "Why aren't you married by now? Surely you've been courted by someone."

You leaned on the counter, leaning in as if to tell a secret. 

"Once," you replied. "Remember Timmy McKee?"

"The git we beat for pushing you down when we was kids?" He asked incredulously. "He had the balls to try to marry you?"

You nodded solemnly. 

"Tried," you whispered. "He was talking to Da about it and started coming around after you lot were shipped out."

He leaned in, curiosity written all over his face.

"I told him if he valued any appendages he'd walk out and not look back," you said solemnly. "Mum turned blue from anger. Dad was stone faced. McKee all but ran out of the house. Ended up marrying Sue. Sweet girl. Pretty sure he beats her."

You shrugged and stood up, going to clean a few of the dirty glasses pilling up by the sink. 

Tommy chuckled, leaning back in his seat and spread his hands across the bar in front of him. 

"What did your dad do after McKee ran?" Tommy asked.

"He started laughing," you said with a grin. "Mum sent us both to bed without dinner."

----

Time sort of blended together after working at The Garrison for a while. It was all pretty much the same. Some nights were slow. Some were packed with people. Sometimes the Shelby's had you working the private room while they conducted business. 

On days off you were closer to your Mum and would visit. She was angry you worked for the Shelby's but seemed happier you were closer to home. When she drove you too crazy you ran off to visit Polly or Ada.

The days bled together, but you didn't care because you felt a part of the Shelby's again. They were family and you felt loved. 

Your favorite part was being able to goof off with your boys, but you had never forgotten the night that John had driven you home. 

On yet another night of working at The Garrison, you were walking back to the bar after dispensing more drinks when warm hands grabbed your middle and spun you into a chest. 

"Did I ever tell you how nice you look in that color?" John said as he deflected your tray from hitting him and took it out of your hands and placed it onto the bar counter. 

His cheeky grin was contagious when he bit down on the pick in his mouth.

"Only every time I wear it, John boy," you said, relaxing into his arms and patting his chest. "What do I owe this honor?"

"Well," he said, faking seriousness, "I've noticed our young Finn has gone from clutching your skirts to wanting in them -- and as one of his big brothers -- I'm here to tease him by teasing you."

"Oh now," you said, your pat turning into a smack, "he's just a babe. The wind blows wrong and he's as stiff as a flagpole. You should know, you've never grown out of it." 

"Maybe," he murmured, ignoring the jab, "but maybe I just like a chance at holding you close, (Y/N)."

Your eyes jerked up to meet his before you giggled nervously.

"Be careful where you aim that charm, John," you warned before you hesitantly stepped out of his arms to return to behind the bar. 

"Right," John said before sitting in an empty seat at the bar. "How about two whiskeys then."

"I can take them to you in the private room if you like?" You asked before turning your back on him to reach the whiskey on the top shelf he liked best.

"That may be a problem, unless Harry plans on covering for you, (Y/N)," John said playfully before raising his voice. "Harry, can I nip (Y/N) off your hands for a bit?"

"Aye," Harry said, not looking up from cleaning off a table. "But have 'er come back out during the rush in a few hours." 

"I can do that, Harry. I'm still right here," you said loudly as you sat back on your heels with the whiskey in your hand. When you turned, you saw John staring at you with a smirk. He rolled the pick across his lips with his tongue as he made eye contact with you. Your breath caught for a moment.

"Well you didn't bloody well ask me, now did you?" Harry chirped back. "You had John do it. So he got your answer."

Harry's retort snapped you out of it and you rolled your eyes at the cranky old man. You picked up two glasses with the hand that wasn't holding whiskey and followed John into the private room the Shelby's used for business.

"Slide in," John said as he went to sit with his back to the wall. 

"A lady doesn't slide," you said, placing the whiskey and glasses on the table and moving them toward the back where John sit 

"Good thing you aren't a lady then, huh (Y/N)," John teased, taking the pick out of his mouth and setting it on the table. 

You huffed a little as you sat down and moved to sit next to John. He was already filling the glasses with a double neat. 

"To bringin' old friends back into the fold," he said as he raised his glass and motioned you to take yours. 

"I've been here a while now," you said, clinking his glass before you both shoot back the drink. 

As you open your eyes and look back at John you catch him staring again. 

"Yeah well," he said, clearing his throat, "might've missed you more than I realized. You're a sight for sore eyes, you are."

"Aww," you cooed teasingly. "Is my John boy getting soft?"

You bumped his shoulder playfully before filling the glasses again. 

"To friends that feel like family," you said, raising your glass.

John hummed noncommittally. 

"Never much thought of kissing my sister," John said with a wink as he clinked your glass. You both quickly finished that round, too. You both put your glasses on the table with a thud.

"Never had the guts to kiss me anyway," you said offhandedly. "You chose not to, remember?"

John grabbed your chin so fast your head spun. His thumb and index finger dug into your skin as he pulled your face closer to his. When your lips were barely grazing his, his fingers dropped from your chin and his hand firmly rested upon your throat. He didn't choke you, but firmly held you in place. Your heart thudded against your rib cage. 

"I could choose to," he said gruffly. 

His blue eyes met yours before looking down at your lips. His tongue wetted his lips and ghosted over your own. You couldn't breathe.

"You could," you finally squeaked out. 

"Do you want me to?" John asked. 

"Yes," you whispered. 

You had expected John's lips to collide with yours, but instead he pulled you closer by your throat and ever-so-softly kissed you. He left you hungry. 

When he let go of your neck and pulled away, you pushed against him in the booth, needing the space to not exist between you. You pressed your lips back on his and could feel his smile as you slid your hands under his coat. 

He licked your bottom lip and you opened your mouth to his silent request, deepening the kiss. His hands pressed into your sides and set your skin on fire. 

As you both continued kissing, one of your hands found his face again and his hands started to wander to your skirts. John softly kissed your jawline and down your neck as he pulled you under him in the booth. His hand found warm skin near your knee and he groaned into your neck as his rough fingers pressed upwards into your soft thigh. 

"John," you half moaned, half said apprehensively. 

You pushed his face up to yours as his hands froze in place and his face pressed against your hand to kiss you again before meeting your gaze. 

"(Y/N)," John murmured back, his pupils blown out and a lazy smile appearing on his lips.

"Slow down," you said quietly. 

Recognition lifted the haze in his eyes and he gave your thigh one last squeeze before he slowly moved his hand down and out of your skirts and used his hand around your waist to upright you beside him. 

He looked at you like you were a spooked mare. He set a soft kiss on your forehead before releasing you from his grip. He cleared his throat, scratching his head as his ears turned pink. 

"Right so," he said. "Another drink?"

You did have another. And another. And when you finished your shift, John was waiting for you with a bottle in hand for many more. You walked through town in the dead of night, drinking and talking -- and occasionally kissing.

You stumbled into your flat at dawn the next morning, knowing full well you were going to nurse a hangover and be miserable before work. But you were absolutely elated.

And when you finished your shift the next night, John was there. 

And the night after. 

And after that. 

John didn't push during kissing after the first night. He waited for you to lead. He started learning your tells as the nights went on and would kiss you or touch you so softly that it would drive you to kiss him harder. You would push against him more until you could feel that cocky grin of his against your lips. And you both would laugh and go back to what you were doing. 

Some nights you wandered town. Others you dipped in the pond. You would sit on the steps of your flat and talk. Most nights were filled with conversations. You talked about each other's days, of business, of family, of dreams or ideas or anything that came to mind.

You were exhausted at work but in such a happy mood that no one commented on the bags under your eyes.

After too many nights out with John to count, there was a slow night at The Garrison that had you itching to be home.

Harry and you both started doing inventory on the liquors to order, as there were not but a handful of patrons in the place. None of the Shelby's had been in most of the day. Business, you were sure. Bloody business. 

Tommy walked in close to midnight, looking stiff. He waved you to him and nodded toward the private room. You nodded and grabbed his favorite whiskey and a glass.

"Long day, Tommy?" You said happily. "Not long till close."

"Very long," he replied shortly, reaching into his breast pocket for a cigarette and lighting it. 

He eyed you for a moment before patting the bench beside him. You sat down and put the whiskey and glass on the table in front of you.

"You've been staying out late every night with John," Tommy said, taking a long pull from his cigarette. 

"I have," you said smiling as you poured him a glass.

"(Y/N), you know he has children," Tommy said kindly. 

"Yuh," you said. "Three, from Martha, his late wife. John's told me."

"Four," Tommy said. "He has four children. A newborn. With his wife."

"Wife?" You said, frozen to the spot. 

"Esme," Tommy said, lightly resting his hand on your shoulder. "A Lee girl. He went to marry Lizzie a year or more back, said he needed a wife. It was my doing. We needed a truce. He needed a wife. He fought me at first, but he seems to like her."

"I see," you said softly, holding your breath. 

"John boy didn't mention that part, did he?" Tommy replied just as soft. 

"No," you flinched at his name. You could feel your lungs lose all their air as your world crumpled around the edges. 

Tommy nodded, more to himself than you, and his eyes were far away. He set his jaw.

"She's missing him, in the nights," Tommy grinded out, rubbing your back softly. "Starting to get worried. Upset. Gypsy women are hard enough to keep in one place. Home with a newborn and three kids. Best to keep her happy. For the truce."

"For the truce," you recited, voice cracking. "Nothing comes in the way of money or family."

Tommy touched your shoulder, and when you didn't turn he grabbed your chin and pushed your head up to look at him.

"Unless it is money or family," he said softly. 

"Hey," he said in a low voice as your eyes locked with his. "Look at me. You're all right, love. You didn't know. You didn't know."

You crashed into his arms, burying your head into his shoulder before your tears could fall. Your breath hitched and Tommy wrapped his arms around you, forgetting about his cigarette dropped into his drink. He petted your hair, soothing you with soft sounds like he did the horses. It only made you hold on tighter.

"Take a couple days off," Tommy said finally, putting your face into his hands. "Go see Polly. Drink some tea. Get your head straight, yeah?"

"Yes, Tommy," you sniffled, nodding into his hands like a child. Tears streaked your face. He wiped one away with his thumb. His eyes softened.

"Atta girl," Tommy said quietly, kissing the top of your head as he pulled you back to his chest. "Stay outta sight for a few nights until you get your head straight. Then come back."

"Tommy," you said, voice so small.

"Yes (Y/N)," Tommy said.

"It was silly of me to ever think I'd really be a Shelby girl, wasn't it?"

Tommy sighed and lightly squeezed you closer to his chest. 

"No, sweetheart," he whispered into your hair as you started sobbing again. "You've always been a Blinders girl. You just can't be his Shelby girl."

When you walked home that night, it was alone. Your chest was tight with anticipation. You only relaxed once you closed your door and locked it behind you. You slid down the door in a puddle and cried again, arms wrapped around your knees.

---- 

Tea with Polly was pretty much what you expected it to be. You waited until the house was empty from the boys running work or errands and then slipped in the back door. 

Your face was still red and puffy from crying, and you froze as you ran into Finn in the doorway. Finn jolted to catch his biscuit before looking up at you and immediately changing his scowl into concern.

"(Y/N), what --" he started.

"Not now, Finny," you said softly. 

"But what --" he tried again. 

"Leave the girl alone and run your errands, Finn," Polly's harsh voice echoed across the kitchen. "Go on."

Polly leaned in the doorway of the kitchen opposite of the two she was cooly eyeing. You shrunk under her critical gaze as if you were already being scolded. Finn huffed and slipped past you to go outside. 

"Not now, Finn," he mocked, stomping away. "Go on, Finn. Bloody adults."

"Water's on the stove," Polly said. "Grab two teas and bring them in to sit."

"Yes ma'am," you said quietly as you set out to do what she tasked you with. In a few moments you had two hot teas placed on the table and sat opposite the chair Polly sat in watching you.

"So," she trailed. "What's wrong with my (Y/N)? Did the boys leave you out again?"

You flinched at the tease. Polly sighed. 

"What'd they do?" She asked in a more gentle tone.

You told her about John and the conversation you had with Tommy. Her face grew more and more grim as the story went on.

"So you were the tarte keeping John from coming home," Polly said, leaving back in her chair. She saw your face fall and she waved you off. "Oh, you aren't a tarte but you were the tarte, girl. All those conversations that were whispered while we couldn't find out what he was up to. Where he was sneaking about."

"I think I love him, Pol," you whispered as you ran your hands through your hair. "Nothing else could hurt this much, could it? He lied to me."

"Don't think with your heart when a man is thinking with his dick," she scowled, taking a long drag from her cigarette and pointed at you. "Even if it's one of my nephews -- especially if it's one of my nephews."

"How was I supposed to know he was thinking with his dick?" You asked crossly, putting your head in your hands. Polly laughed.

"All men think with their dick," she said. "And Shelby's are especially known to ruin many a good thing because of it."

"I won't be his tarte, Pol," you said. 

"I never expected you to be," Polly said, taking a sip of her tea. "I expected you to be smarter. Go be about your business and make him realize his mistakes."

----

You didn't visit your mum, knowing full well that she would only chide you for the indiscretion. You weren't strong enough to pretend, so instead you went shopping. You got your usual groceries, and when you noticed a pretty blue cotton dress in a window, you bought it. You had to. It was Shelby's eye blue.

You stayed home the next day and just read. You soaked in the tub until the water was frigid. You started to fidget when the time came that you usually left for work, but you stayed in. One more night. Two nights at home, and you'll be strong enough to go back into work. You had to be strong.

The next day you woke up and lounged. You took your time primping yourself, putting your makeup on slowly, teasing your hair up into something more intricate than a ponytail, fitting into your new blue dress. With each layer you put more mental walls up, preparing for your night at work. You even wore a pair of higher heels than you usually did. 

When the time came you clacked down the cobblestone to The Garrison, not entirely sure of what your night would end up like but entirely ready for anything. 

You reached the steps of The Garrison and took one last big breath and exhaled before you walked in. 

"Harry, I'm back," you called, walking toward the bar and grabbing your apron to put on. 

"Thank fuck for that, little bird, because we're busy tonight," he called as he emptied his tray with a round of beers to a table. "Grab a tray and I'll see to behind the bar."

"Aye," you called back, already filling a few drinks at the bar and taking their money before doing as he asked. 

The night was definitely fast. You spun yourself around the bar, filling drinks and laughing with a few of the regulars along the way. 

Arthur popped in around eleven and waved you over, smile on his face. 

"Well would you look at (Y/N)," he offered as you walked toward him with a smile. "Don't you look pretty tonight. I'm sure you're getting all the tips." 

You laughed as he took your hand and spun you once, looking from your dress to your heels. 

"Good night on your end, Arthur?" You asked. 

"Good night indeed," he answered, whiskey already on his breath. "Business was good and now that I've seen you, the night is even better."

"Oh, now," you joked. "Don't be too sweet on me. I might melt." 

Arthur spun you into a hug and you laughed as Tommy and John came in behind him. Tommy nodded his head to you before slipping into the private room and John watched you closely before doing the same. 

"Let me go, Arthur, and I'll get you boys your drinks," you said as you went to turn around. 

"Don't be long, love," Arthur said with a wink. "It's going to be a rowdy night."

"The rowdier, the better," you called over your shoulder, already slipping past Harry behind the bar to grab the glasses and the bottle. 

"Get them their drinks and come back out," Harry chided as he worked at cleaning glasses. "Now's not the night for you to run off." 

"Yessir," you said sweetly as you kissed his cheek quickly and slipped past him again. 

"Don't tease an old man and do as yer told," Harry yelled, but he had a smile on his face as he watched you run off. 

You open the door and moved into the private area, the Shelby's already in their spots smoking cigars. Arthur nearest the door on the left, Tommy in the corner facing the door, and John on the right. You stood between John and Arthur, facing Tommy.

"Cigars tonight?" You lilted. "Business really must have been good." 

"We're expanding, (Y/N)," Tommy said. "Bigger and better business." 

You poured their drinks, handing them to each brother, a wide smile on your face. 

"Congratulations, boys," you said. 

"How about a congratulations kiss," Arthur said, taking his cap off and placing it on the table. He raised his cheek to you and pointed at it. "For good luck."

"Now," you said, faking exasperation with your hands on your hips. "Harry just told me not to tease an old man. I thought you said when you hired me to listen to him."

All the boys chuckled good naturedly and you bent down to give him a kiss on the cheek. 

"Anything else before I get out of here?" You said with a laugh. "Harry will have my head if you keep me too long."

"Not right now," Tommy said. "But do check in."

You raised your eyebrow before dipping into an exaggerated curtsy. 

"Whatever you say, King Tommy," you drawled before spinning on your heels and returning to the rest of the bar. 

You left the bottle with them, knowing they'd easily finish it. 

You went through the motions of the night, checking in periodically with the Shelby men to see if they finished the bottle or needed ice, or sometimes just to give one a jab. They all seemed in high spirits over whatever had happened and it lifted your own attitude to see them acting like kids again.  

However, John hadn't said more than a word or two all night and it was driving you mad. He was joking with Arthur and Tommy plenty, but as soon as you would enter the room it was almost like he grew quiet. He watched your jabs and taunts to the other two but never joined himself. 

After the bar had quieted and patrons left for the night, John came out of the room and stood between the door and the bar, watching you clean. Harry had disappeared into the back to take stock and pick up the alcohol to replace the night's used bottles.

"You've been tiptoeing around me all night, John boy," you said, finally breaking the silence. "I'm guessing you know I know and cat's got your tongue."

John stuttered a step but walked up and sat at a chair at the bar.

"I know," he said, tracing the wooden grooves on the bar top. 

"That's all you got for me?" You said, tired but incredulous. "You lied to me and all you can say is you know?"

John gulped, but looked up and kept eye contact. 

"I didn't lie," he said. "I just didn't tell you. There is a difference. Home is home. Business is business. They don't mix. They don't meet. That's why I don't invite her here."

"And I'm neither," you said, washing glasses a little more vigorously than before. 

"You're home, too," he said quietly, resuming his focus on tracing lines on the bar top. "But more like the first home. The one you grew up in as a child. The one your parents read to you and tucked you in, like."

You released a breath that you didn't know you were holding and lifted a soapy hand to your forehead. You dropped your shoulders. 

"Gotta grow up sometime, John," you said before you resumed scrubbing.

"I wasn't trying to hurt you, (Y/N)" he said. 

You slammed your glasses into the sink, hearing at least one break. You paused to take a heavy breath before you grabbed a towel to dry your hands.

"You once told me you're only as much trouble as I'm willin'," you started in a whisper that steadily grew louder. 

"(Y/N)," John pleaded.

"I'm not willin' no more, John boy," you said in a stronger voice than you thought capable. 

It almost sounded like your heart wasn't shattering. You finally found the courage to look him in the eye. His face was sheer regret. You stepped out of your heels and walked the paces to stand in front of him. You rested your elbows on the counter as you held John's jaw in both hands, squeezing tenderly.

"Do me a favor," you said with tears threatening to fall. "Give me a goodbye kiss, then go home to your family."

He looked you in the eye before looking down to your lips and squeezing his eyes shut. 

"It's alright, John," you soothed. "We're alright. I just need a goodbye."

He took a deep breath and placed a hand over your own and squeezed. 

"Goodnight, (Y/N)" he said hoarsely, before kissing you softly. 

You held the kiss for a moment before letting go of his face and leaning back slowly until you were standing upright again. Your eyes were still closed. That was it. It was done.

"Goodnight, John," you said, slowly opening your eyes. 

He was already slipping out of the door.

Tommy leaned in the private room's doorway watching you when you finally pulled yourself together. You decided to grab a rag and clean tables to get away from his prying eyes. 

"Tommy," you stuttered. "I thought you had already left." 

He hummed, kicked off the door frame, and walked your way. 

"Wanted to make sure that went smoothly," he said. "Looked like you parted just fine."

"You should know me well enough to know I'm not that girl," you glared at him before you wiped a table down and moved to another one. "I'm not anyone's tarte."

"Wasn't you I worried about," he said. "John's not always one to hear no."

You moved tables again and wiped it down. 

"What do you want, Tommy?" You asked, watching him follow you around the bar from the corner of your eye. "What are you scheming?"

"I just wanted to see if you're alright," he said before stepping closer. "That dress looks good on you, (Y/N)."

You threw the rag down on the table and stood up straight to look him in the eye.

"I'm fine," you said. 

"You shouldn't lie," Tommy retorted. "You're bad at it. But you did fine." 

You grunted noncommittally as Tommy stood toe to toe with you. You looked up at him and he touched your face, hesitating before he cupped your cheek. 

"(Y/N)," he said quietly as his warm breath teased your lips. 

"Tommy," you interjected, grabbing his hand that cupped your cheek. "You wouldn't lie to me, would you? You wouldn't … not tell me?"

"I wouldn't lie to you unless you wanted me to, (Y/N)," he said.

Your hand dropped from his and the creases that had appeared on his forehead smoothed. You were enamored with how blue his eyes were at the moment. At how they sparkled.

"Now, (Y/N)," he murmured as he leaned closer, "you absolved my brother of his sin with a kiss. Suffer me with a sin from the same indiscretion."

[anastasiaskarsgard]

Digging the knife in deeper with Merkel! 😩😭 thank you and you’ve made me hungry for more!

I’m totally down to write the Merkel and Nicole hot mess express.

“Hey Nicole! Boss wants to see you in his office.” The new red head said as she made her way down the stairs.

Judging by her messy hair and smeared make up, it looked like he had already got his rocks off. Nicole watched the girl as she attempted to straighten her clothing, and couldn’t help but notice how young she looked. The girl was tall and curvy, but the way she carried herself made her just seem awkward. Like the giraffe at the zoo, when it was learning to walk.

Noticing she was being watched, the girl attempted a dirty look, that just came across as funny to nicole. “What’s your name new girl? I’m Nicole. No need to get defensive, us girls gotta stick together.”

The girls face flashed between confusion and fear, and she looked around before saying “my name is Anna, but I’m supposed to say it’s Roxy.”

“Well my real name is Nicole, but the boss likes to name most of the girls to keep them safe from psychos. You never know these days,” Nicole smiled reassuringly. “Well I better go see what he wants.”

The girl tried to smile, but just looked like she might cry. Some of these girls just aren’t cut out for this type of lifestyle, Nicole thought as she made her way up the stairs. She made a mental note to ask about the girl, if the boss was in a good mood.

Coming to the landing, she was met by the Big Mikes. They were the security for the boss most of the time. She’d known them for years and they never talked much or smiled. It only added to their intimidating presence. Both men were at least 6’6 and built like Mac trucks. If they didn’t want someone to get by, they wouldn’t.

Smiling brightly, Nicole winked at one of them as she passed and rapped lightly on the door behind them.

“It better be Nicole!” A stern voice shouted.

Grinning, she opened the door to find her boss, sitting at his desk, looking through some paperwork. Walking over to the chair facing him, she plopped down and waited for him to speak.

She always was amazed how he always looked so neat and composed. Not a hair out of place, a wrinkle in his clothing, or the signs of his sexual prowess was ever present. If she hadn’t seen the state the girl that just came out of his office has been in, she’d never know he’d done anything besides what he did now. She knew all too well that wasn’t the case tho.

“Why am I hearing stories about you and the new pretty boy?” He asked, still not looking up.

“Well hello to you too.” She said sarcastically.

Snapping his eyes up at her, she was taken aback by the anger she found there. She wasn’t sure why he’d care Who she talked to considering he fucked every girl that walked through the place. Sure, she was the only one he fucked more than once or twice, but she hardly thought they were in any sort of relationship. Seeing his facial expression only harden even further, she chuckled uncomfortably and tried to make her face look at ease. “You know how people like to make up shit to make their day go by quicker. I ran into him in the hallway when he was racing out his brothers office. Looked like they were fighting so I tried to make a joke is all.”

He considered her words as he analyzed her for any signs of deception. Finding none, he smiled and shook his head. “I guess I’m just possessive over you doll. You know how it is right? All the girls are falling all over themselves over the guy, which doesn’t bother me, but when I heard you were one of them...”

“You ever see me fall all over anything?” She interrupted, cocking an eyebrow. “I ain’t looking for some pretty boy douche bag, trying to fuck anything that gives him a second glance.” Rising to her feet, she put one hand on her hip, expectantly. “Anything else?”

“No baby. Just keep your distance from that guy. You’re the only girl I give a fuck about in the whole world. The rest of these broads are a joke at best.”

Nicole’s stomach turned, but she giggled and bounced out of his office. Closing the door, she took a deep breath and made her way past the Mikes. She felt like she was going to have a panic attack.

In all the years she’d been around, she’d always thought she was just like all the other girls. Eventhough she was never sent to satisfy clients or made a spectacle of for big wigs, she still had to drop to her knees or bend over whenever the boss demanded it. He paid for everything from her car, to her rent and utilities, and provided her an allowance as well so she was just a personal prostitute in her mind. That seemed safer for some reason. She also didn’t know where he got off thinking he could cheat on her all the time, but still consider her to be his.

Glancing at her new Rolex she’d been gifted for her birthday, she wondered what time Merkel got in. Deciding to ask Tony, she made her way towards the bar, since they both seemed to hang out there a lot. Making her way across the club, she tried to spot either of the tall brothers, but found neither of them. It was still pretty slow, so they’d be easy to spot.

Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted what looked like Merkel, leaving out a side door. Scurrying to catch up, she ran out into the alley to find him there leaned against the wall, smoking a cigarette.

Embarrassed by her obvious haste to catch him, she blushed and looked down sheepishly, before looking back up at him through her lashes. She had this whole routine down, and knew exactly how to look the most attractive and alluring. If she’d captured her boss’s heart, maybe she could capture this guy as well. Not thinking too far into the Possible consequences of playing games with dangerous men’s hearts, she smirked when he grabbed her belt loop and pulled her close.

“Where’s the fire?” He growled lowly, as he turned her to face him.

She knew he was trying to be sexy, and he really was doing a great job, but she couldn’t help herself. “My pants.” She looked up to his face, already starting to fall into a giggle fit. The confused look on his face only added fuel to the fire, and before she knew it, she could barely breathe. “Oh my god! Your face! I wish you could see your face!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Merkel had found out earlier that day that this operation was going to be cleansed in two days. He wasn’t a cleaner, so he didn’t ever really think about what they did. He was the intel. He was good at gaining people’s trust or that wasn’t the right word. He was good at being unthreatening and unassuming.

Being a pretty boy, man whore, that no one took seriously and thought was dumb, was the best way to be if your goal was gathering information. It would blow their minds if they knew he was a computer genius, that spoke 11 languages fluently and had a photographic memory.

The higher ups wanted his files on all the key players, and who he thought were the victims. He knew if they had called for A cleaning crew, then anyone he put on that list as a key player was as good as dead. The victims would go wherever they went and he’d get a month off between jobs. He usually looked forward to moving on, but this time was different.

Nicole wasn’t a key player as far as he could see. She also wasn’t a victim, or one of the prostitutes. She appeared to just be the boss’ favorite. Almost like a pet. A sugar baby maybe. Whatever she was, he was going to have to trust her, to save her. He knew he was taking a huge risk and being an idiot, but he couldn’t get that kiss in the hallway out of his head.

Never in his life had he ever gotten completely lost in a person as he did when they kissed. He was trained to never let his guard down, and always be aware of your surroundings, but when her lips met his, it was like the world disappeared. He knew in his gut that she had been affected just as much as he had, and he knew this wasn’t just lust. He knew lust and this wasn’t it. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he wanted to find out.

As if she knew he was thinking about her, she appeared before him as she hastily made her way out the door. Stumbling to a stop, and turning the cutest shade of red, she looked down and bit her lip. When she looked back up at him, his stomach flipped. Suppressing a laugh at his own behavior, he focused on examining the beauty before him and trying to play it cool.

“Where’s the fire?” He said as he dragged her closer to him by her belt loop.

Her eyes flashed mischievously, and she was already grinning ear to ear as she stated, “my pants.” Busting out into a fit of giggles, Merkel couldn’t help but smile too.

He’d never seen a more beautiful girl. He knew he had to save her from her likely fate. There was no safe way to do this, and he knew she could turn around and get him killed for trying to help her but as he listened to her bell like laugh, he decided she was worth it.

“Oh my god! Your face! I wish you could see your face!” She beamed up at him.

“Let’s get out of here.” He said in her ear, flicking his cigarette away.

“What? Where would we go? What would we do? Don’t you have work?”

“Fuck it. We’d leave here and never look back. Run away with me. Leave all this shit behind.” He smiled warmly and pressed his body into hers.

Nicole stepped back, getting serious real quick. Looking for the joke on his face and finding none, she just stared at him waiting for him to say something. Unfortunately he just stared right back. “Are you serious?” She whispered.

“Why are we whispering now? Yes I’m serious.” His face returned to the stoic mask he normally wore. Internally he was tripping, but externally he looked cool as a cucumber. “You trust me?”

“You’re crazy,” she muttered.

“That’s beside the point.” He chuckled half heartedly and suddenly looked very vulnerable. Nicole creased her eyebrows, bewildered by the normally stoic mans emotions clear on his face.

“Should I -“

“Look I’m going to just be honest. Fuck!” He looked down a beat, before looking her dead in the eye. “If you don’t come away with me now, you won’t make it past tomorrow. A bigger organization than your boss is involved in, has decided that he and everyone close to him needs to go. For good.”

“But your brother...” she cried, his words setting her heart racing.

“He’s not my brother. Everything you know about me is a lie. Everything except this.” Grabbing her face, he crashed his lips into hers, hoping she wouldn’t push him away....

When she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss, he was shocked at how elated he instantly became. She was his. He’d protect her and keep her safe. She needed him and for some reason he needed her too. When she jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist, he moaned into her mouth. “You’re such a good girl. Nothing and no one will ever hurt you. I’ll protect you from everything.”

“You promise?” She breathed into his mouth, as she grinned her core on his already rock hard arousal.

“You trying to get fucked right here in the alley? You keep that up and I’m...” he cut off his own sentence with a passionate kiss to her lips once more.

[adhdeancas]

Sunset Sound: Stairway to Heaven

Special thanks to James @friedchickenangelwings for helping me out with this story. I can’t wait to write this. Read on AO3 here

Summary: Everything is the same up to the end of 15x20. Chuck has been “defeated,” but it was all a farce. When Jack absorbed Chuck, Chuck easily took over the 3 year old’s body and acted as if he were defeated. Chuck!Jack then had the Rusty Nail placed in the barn where Dean died, and with Cas gone, Dean didn’t fight it. Chuck did reimagine Heaven, but he’s fed the same lie to them all: that everything is perfect, they are free, they are in real paradise. Except it’s all an illusion insulated by blue skies and endless horizons. Because, just like the Good Place, people make Heaven into Hell for each other. And there’s nothing Chuck loves more than the natural order of tragedy. He “let it slip” to Bobby that he brought Cas back, when he really left him to rot in the Empty. Dean has to find his best friend before it’s too late, and he has to keep a happy face for everyone else, because Chuck is watching. Always watching.

Chapter One: Runnin’ on Empty

“Well, Cas helped.”

Dean’s heart flutters at that and he looks at Bobby. The damn old man raises his eyebrows; he knows he just buried the lead and he did it on purpose. A soft breath escapes him and he smiles. Maybe this is gonna be alright after all. Hell, maybe he can find that angel and…

“It’s a big new world out there. You’ll see.” 

Dean’s stomach twists at the idea. I don’t wanna see. His stupid brain insists. He takes a swig of the beer in his hand to try to quiet the voice. “Oh, wow.” He recoils a bit and looks at it. “This tastes like the first drink I ever shared with my dad.” He shares a wry smile with Bobby. Drinks with Dad weren’t exactly top-tier, and they both knew it.

“Quality stuff?” 

Dean’s smiling because he feels like he should be. “Nah, it’s crap.” He tries to shift that memory into a good thing, because his memory of his first beer is the crushing doubt and fear that swirled around his head. Finally, he’d done something right enough to earn a beer like a Man, but he still felt… broken. 

He feels the same now.

Maybe it’s because he’d really just wanted a hug.

But Bobby is waiting for him to say something. Dean focuses instead on the surface-level joy of that old mid-evening beer, the pride in his dad’s eyes, trying to drum up the feeling. “But it was fantastic.” 

“Just like this.”

“It’s almost perfect.” Dean manages. He wants Bobby to agree. He wants Bobby to say ‘Yeah, I know, something just ain’t right, can’t put my finger on it,’ but he doesn’t. He lets the silence drag on for a second longer before he fills it.

“He’ll be along.” Dean’s heart jumps, but then he realizes he’s talking about Sam. Not Cas. But he doesn’t want Sam up here anytime soon; he wants Sam to live a nice life with Eileen, like he promised. “Time up here, it’s different. You got everything you could ever want, or need, or dream. So I guess the question is, what are you gonna do now, Dean?”

It kinda feels like when Jack was born and Cas was dead and Sam wanted to go to strip clubs and listen to Zeppelin and eat at the greasiest holes-in-the-wall. Like he had everything he was supposed to want laid right out in front of him, but… none of it made Dean feel anything. He looks around, searching for inspiration, and his eyes land on home. Things always look clearer when he's looking out at ‘em through Baby’s windshield. “I think I’ll go for a drive.” 

“Have fun.” 

He leaves the acrid beer with Bobby and climbs into his car. Maybe he’s insane, but she feels.. different. He is insane. He is in heaven. “Get it together, Dean.” he mutters to himself as he pulls away. Bobby mentioned that his parents are nearby but… Dean doesn't want to face that yet. Nothing to fix your existential crisis about Heaven like a neat talk with your disappointed parents. 

He keeps to the main road instead. He drives for an hour, maybe two, at least that’s what it feels like. From what Bobby said, time isn’t so straightforward here. That only scares him a little bit. Eventually, his brain seems to calm down enough to think clearly. He’d chosen this. He’d accepted this. And he’d meant what he’d said in that barn; he was okay with dying. Of course, he didn’t realize that meant… He didn’t realize that meant more. 

A little voice inside him whispers something evil. He’d just wanted to see Cas again. Even in memories. Like it was before…

He takes a deep breath. “I’m not gonna fuck it up. It’s heaven. I can’t fuck it up in heaven, right?” He laughs out loud to himself, but it’s cut off by Baby groaning underneath him. She starts to slow. “Baby? What the hell?”

She’s out of gas.

Dean grumbles as he pulls over. “Sonuvvabitch, what the-” He almost said what the hell. He’s in heaven. Nothing in hell. Heh. She rolls to a stop and he kills the engine, letting the new silence and stillness wash over him. He sighs. Heaven, huh?

He scrubs a hand across his back and looks over to his right, to an onion field. Yellow and pokey and-

Cas is standing in the middle of it. 

Dean just about has a heart attack. He scrambles out of the car, honks Baby’s horn in the process, is all the way around the car by the time he really sees him.

Cas looks terrible. He’s standing stock-still in the middle of the field, arms down at his sides, crumpled trench coat speckled with the black sludge that haunts Dean’s nightmares. His hair is matted, his face gaunt, eyes sunken in with bags dark as bruises. But what scares Dean the most is the look in his eyes. His eyelids droop and hang and he stares straight ahead, straight at Dean, without seeing him, without any light in them at all. 

It doesn’t look like Cas. 

“Cas?” Dean approaches slowly, hands held out like he would to a wild animal. Cas shows no sign of moving, just stands there. “Cas, look at me, man,” There’s pleading in his voice, but he doesn’t care. He needs Cas to be okay. 

Castiel is not okay. 

As Dean gets closer, he starts to hear screams and crashes. He twists around to look for the source, but it just seemed to come from… around Cas. He looks closer, and Cas’s hands move to fend something off he can’t see. He’s still just staring ahead, but, looking closer at Cas’s face, he sees something he hadn’t noticed before. 

Cas is talking. Well, muttering really. Dean can barely hear him through the pauses in far-off yells. “d-Dea-Dean. Dean- de-Dean.” Dean stomach drops off a cliff. “Dean, just think of… D-du-Dean.” 

“I’m here, Cas.” Fuck the rasp in his voice. Fuck the tears in his eyes. Cas can’t hear him. He can tell by the look in his eyes. “FUCK!” 

He rubs his eyes with his fists furiously. This is so frustrating, this is so-

There is no one there. No sound. Cas is gone. 

Dean strides ahead, but it’s no use. The field is empty, and he is alone. Again. 

It takes Dean a few minutes before he can get himself under control. Cas isn’t there; he has to assume he never had been, not really. So, unless Dean has finally gone off the deep end, it was… what, a vision? A- god, it felt familiar. It felt like - it felt like after purgatory. The same haunted face, the same unseeing eyes. Gone in a blink.

Why am I seeing you again, man? 

But, as sure as he is that there is grass on the ground, he knows Cas can’t hear him.

Dean sits up against his fender and sighs. On the one hand, he is sitting on warm clear asphalt, feeling the afternoon sun bake his face, and on the other, he is miserable and seeing his dead-alive-again best friend. Except if Cas was around, he would come see him. Right? I mean, Dean died. So young. And Cas just told him- 

And Dean is praying to him. And he’s not here. It’s not right. None of it is. That he is sure about. If this was heaven, he didn’t want it.

Dean gets up. Will he ever get some motherfucking peace? He gets in his car, tries the ignition. She starts up again and - miracle of miracles - has gas. He thanks her with a pat and they're off, riding into the eerily-perfect sunset, back the way they came.

Night’s fallen by the time he pulls into the dirt pathway. He parks on the lawn and shivers a little bit in the chill of the night. Funny, he wouldn’t think Heaven got cold. But then again, he wouldn’t have thought Heaven would be shitty either. The roadhouse is inviting and homey, lights on inside. Dean snags a beer from the cooler left out front and kicks the door open softly. “Hello?” He doesn’t know who he’s expecting, but it definitely wasn’t who he gets. 

“Dean!” Charlie wraps him in a hug before he can say anything, and Dean gladly melts into it. God, it’s good to see her. He pulls away and pats her cheek, checking her out. She looks good, normal. Less… dead and bloody than he last saw her? Jesus his mind is a dark place. 

“Hey kid! How the hell are you?” 

Charlie rolls her eyes at the greeting, but she can’t stop grinning. “All things considering, y’know, being dead and all, I’m good!” 

Dean laughs. She’s already rambling, and he missed her. “Sorry about that one,” he winces, remembering his part in the circumstances around her death. 

Charlie chooses to take it as a condolences. “Yeah, you too, dude. But at least we died young and hot, right?” She tugs him over to the bar and leans around to yell at the scuffed doorway. “Ash! We got company?”

Dean’s eyes widen. “Ash? You guys know each other?” 

“Can’t keep geniuses like us apart, compadre,” Dr. BadAss comes out of his backroom, arms spread out in greeting. Dean can’t stop himself from greeting him with a hug. He hadn’t known who to expect here, but Ash and Charlie are just about best case scenario. “What’re you doing here?” 

Dean knows he means how he died, but he looks around anyway. The rest of the bar is quiet and still, and Dean can hear nothing outside the heavy doors either. “I think we gotta problem, Ash.” 

Ash’s face folds into a frown. “What kinda problem?” Dean feels Charlie press in and he glances at her suddenly-serious face. 

“A big one. A heaven sized one.” They all looked around skeptically, a little Scooby-Doo-like, taking in the lifeless room around them. Finally, Ash meets Dean’s eyes, and Dean withdraws a little. 

“Yeah, we know. Welcome to the team, Deano.” 

Tag list: @dochunterwitch  @justonecitizenoftheearth @gnbrules @purpe @castiel-is-a-cat

[evermoreparker]

You're Not The Only One

A/n: Hey :) so I'm not exactly new to tumblr, but new to posting what I write here. Hope you enjoy! 💖

Word count: 1,8k

Contains: a lot of angst, pop culture references, but I promise there's fluff in the end.

Saying that you were in love with Peter Parker was an understatement, you were head over heels, all the cheesy songs you can name it, that was how you felt about him.

Letting your feelings aside for the nerdy boy was definetly one of the hardest things you went through in high school, seeing him getting his first kiss, first girlfriend, but no matter how smart he was, he couldn't see the way you were falling for him.

Now, in college, seeing Peter going on dates was one thing, but him asking if your friend was single? It hurt you like when One Direction went on hiatus.

"Hey y/n" he smiled, god you fucking loved and hated that smile, at the same time. How was it possible to get all giggly just thinking about the way he said your name?

"Hey Pete, what's up?" You said taking a sip of your drink and thinking about how easy it would be having someone like Peter by your side.

"Nothing much, can I ask you something?" Oh no, what did he do? Oh he looks definetly nervous, but also cute, the way he looks confused on why you are taking so long to answer, enough daydreaming from now on.

"Yeah sure" he looks around just to check if someone is around, did he kill someone? Well that would be kinda hard considering that he can't kill a spider, cause according to him that would be "killing his own kind", whatever that means, sometimes I think he's hiding something.

"Ok cool i-is y/f/n single?" Waitwaitwait, he's talking about another y/f/n, it's not your friend, chill.

"You mean my friend?" Now it was your time to be the oblivious one.

"I mean if you think it's weird it's ok, I don't mind, it's just that since I hooked you up with one of my friends one time, I was wondering if you could do the same?" Yeah, that shit hurt more than watching a great show but with one of the worst finales.

"Oh yeah, sure, and she's single, I'll talk to her later and then I text you." Peter hugged you so hard that you couldn't breathe properly, sometimes you wonder where all that strenght came from.

"Thank you so so much" he smiled "And btw, Brad's single again, if you want me to call him" Oh Brad, the same stupid guy who thought North Pole was an urban legend. But here's why you dated him for a while, Peter had a new girlfriend, and you were starting to feel left off, so you decided to take your shot and go on some dates. Brad was your middle school crush, and you kinda owned your 11 year old self, so when Peter told you about Brad being in town, you asked him to hook you both up.

Everything was great, until he would open his mouth. You really wanted to break up with him after your fourth date, but breaking up with someone on his birthday wouldn't be really nice, and then his family came to meet you, then the holidays, until you decided to tell him why you couldn't be with him, no matter how hard you tried, it was impossible to forget Peter Parker.

"Oh no I'm good, but thank you though." You smiled faking the whole thing, it gets easier with years pretending you are not madly in love with your best friend.

Needless to say your friend was confused as fuck when you asked her if she wanted to go out with Peter.

"Ok is this a prank? Is this a trap?" Y/f/n stopped watching her movie to turn around and look at you.

"It's not a prank, I'm ok with that, Peter asked and- doesn't matter, I want you to go, if you want to, of course" Getting out of her bed, she hugged you.

"Oh honey" oh no, not the pity voice. "I'm so sorry, I know how much you like him" you stopped hugging her before she realized you were almost crying on her shoulder.

"It's fine, really, it'd be good for me to move on, it's been way too long and you deserve someone like him" your friend looked surprised, not knowing if you were telling the truth since you were too busy staring at the white walls in her dorm room.

And pointless to say that you spent the night crying and watching Love, Rosie.

"Stupid fucking movie that shit doesn't happen in real life and everyone knows it!" Yelling at the top of your lungs to your laptop screen..

-------------------------------------------‐------

Peter kept telling all the jokes you told him, pretending that they were his, at least this way he could feel you closer to him. He wonders why you've been acting so strange lately.

And your friend keeps laughing, because alcohol has that affect on people, making you forget what you were worried about, making you say things you are not supposed to...

"So, Peter" y/f/n says while drinking her scotch neat "Are you sure y/n was ok with, you know, you asking me out?"

"Yeah she was super cool about it"

"Bet she lied." she mumbles while suddently finding incredibly interesting her glass, little did she know that the boy sitting next to her had enhanced hearing.

"Wha-why? Why would she lie?" Shock crossed Peter's face, almost as fast as realization hit him.

"I gotta go, I'm sorry" too early to swing with civilians around, too late to walk till your dorm room, so Peter decides to catch a cab. Wait could it be? No that would make no sense, why would you let him ask your friend out then? And before he can realize what he's about to do, he's already in campus searching for your dorm.

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

"NOT AGAIN gotta be kidding me, why do you keep chasing someone who doesn't want you?" Oh, ok, you get it, let's not yell to characters anymore.

Wiping your tears for the eleventh time that night, hearing a knock on your door. You decide to ignore, finishing How I met your mother was more important.

"Y/n it's Peter" oh no. Trying to brush your hair with your fingers so that you didn't look like a total mess to the cute guy you love, you open the door.

"Hey Pete, what's up?" You couldn't deny your puffy eyes but you can always blame it on rom coms. Peter felt like shit thinking about being the reason you had been crying all night. You wiped your eyes but the tears came anyway. Peter needed to ask you what was going on, but he also needed to be there as your friend. He opened his arms, and you fell into his embrace.

"You can let it out" he whispered while caressing your hair.

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

After what felt like hours, now sitting on your bed, you finally looked at Peter and was ready to ask why he left so early from his date, but almost like he could read your mind, he decided to ask first.

"Y/n?" You looked at his brown curls, wondering what was like to run your fingers through his hair.

"Yeah?"

"Hm d-do you like me? Like more than friends" Oh shit you're gonna kill y/f/n and her drunk-ass self.

"Whaat?" Your voice went high pitched. So many years lying to your parents but you can't do that to Peter, he knows you more than you know yourself.

"S-so you do like me?" It was his time to sound like he was going through puberty all over again.

Too embarrassed to say something, you just nod and get ready for the "I like you too, but just as a friend", instead you get a nervous Peter.

"Ok what I'm about to tell you is my biggest secret and you can't tell this to anyone"

"Peter I know you know all the choreographies from high school musical, I still accept you" putting your arm around his shoulders.

"I'm not talking about- wait how do you know that? Doesn't matter we'll get back to there later" he fidgets with his hands. "I'm spiderman" before you can interrupt him, he starts talking faster and faster. "I know it's gonna sound totally crazy, but I got bit by a spider at 15, and, well, that explains why I am more... muscular?" He cringes at his words but decides to go on "Also why I aciddently broke your sink while supporting my hand on it, and I can explain everything, I swear" Trying to understand while Peter talked at the speed of light , you finally had answers for what you were searching for.

"Ok... So it was a secret for a secret? Like you finding out about me having a crush on you since I was 14, so you tell me that you are a superhero??"

"Wait I'm not done yet" he takes another deep breath before singing rap god, again. "Being spiderman is extremely dangerous and I didn't want to put you in danger too, I love you too much for that." here it comes, as a friend. "Way more than a friend" before you can ask if Peter was joking, he continues. "And it's already too much that May knows, Ned knows, MJ knows, they are all in danger because of me" now it's Peter's turn to start crying. "I couldn't do the same with you, so I had to pretend I wasn't upset when you had your first kiss, and it wasn't with me, when you had your first boyfriend, all your firsts didn't have a different affect each time, all of them hurt like hell the same way" You are not the only one who's oblivious towards someone else's feelings, and I'm sorry for that, but the risk of putting you in danger, wouldn't let me do anything about the way I felt- I mean, feel about you. I lost way too many important people in my life, I couldn't bear losing you too." He sobbed while wiping his tears. "But now that I know you feel the same, suddently everything is worth fighting for. I love you so much, and- Peter's words were cut by your warm lips meeting his.

Time is relative. You never understood Einstein's theory, until now.

“Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. That's relativity.”

After what felt like a few seconds, but was actually hours, you both pull away with the biggest grin.

"Wanna go out sometime? I know spiderman." He whispers the last part while laughing at his own joke.

"Sure, can I bring Brad?" Peter gasps, pretending to be offended.

"How dare you? At least choose someone who knows geography."

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh Ep33 S4 pt 2: The Best Storyboarder Came Back Just so They Could Draw Tristan Getting Hit in the Nuts

OK lets just get to the good stuff.

God bless you, storyboarder.

(read more under the cut)

The team has entered the Atlantis lair of Dartz, which is also accessible through Paradius in San Fransisco, but youknow...we don’t have magic so it’s not like we could’ve skipped like 10 minutes and just done that instead of the helicopter escape, the Military moment, and the ride through a hurricane.

Oh wait, we do have magic, that’s right...well...for now, pretend we don’t.

Enjoy the snakes.

Strangely, Kaiba does not feel comfortable with the snakes, when snakes really just a smaller and cuter dragon. I love snakes. Never owned one...but I trust em.

Dartz has the Yugioh “old guy” aesthetic of “We just really like yellowed sandstone”

I get that they want this place (and also Yami’s house) to look like a tomb so there won’t be any paint on the wall but this is just a pet peeve of mine that Ancient times freakin loved garish colors on the wall in layers and layers of patterns and yet in fiction we never show that.

But...it doesn’t go with the vibe. I’ll let it go because it would absolutely ruin the vibe to have a bunch of swirly stuff in neon orange and green.

Before we have a chance to grab a step stool and just kinda yoink Yugi Muto, Dartz shows up, and this shot happens.

I couldn’t not grab a cap of that. I mean...look at it. It is SO HARD to foreshorten hands so it looks right and then bam they just did that. It’s just...

...I’ve been breaking down foreshortening in Yugioh shots for a while now trying to figure out why when I do it, it looks like a busted huge hand, but when they do it, it looks really good, and I’m starting to realize that maybe it’s more than just stacking but also...the composition?

You can’t really look at this picture as a whole. The hand is such a strong focal point that you must start there, and then follow down the arm to the face. I think when I do these foreshortening shots I make the hand the same weight as the face, and that’s my downfall. You gotta let the composition force the viewer to slow down and take time in order for the optical illusion to happen...maybe? I’m like over 30 now, you’d think I’d figure this out by now.

Whatever, that’s another post.

So like...what happened to those two people who used to be there????

And now prepare thyself for my lazy math. I know this math is bad. For people out there who feel like working out the geometric growth and calculate just how many souls Dartz slurps up--feel free to tell me. If I like the explanation, I will adjust the Death Count to match it. It’s just too 2020 for me to do more than multiplication at the moment.

Did I count how many people would have existed 10,000 years ago? no. Did I account for plagues? No. Like this math of 4 a day is bad...but eh it’s all I got right now in my mental ammunition.

Something that we did think about was...

Why not slurp up the Pharaoh soul when Yami was still alive? Like we assume the puzzle existed in the past but like...did Yami not get superpowered until Yugi woke him up? Was he in fact useless until he got a little bit of a battery charge during Season Zero when he was dumping people off of bell towers?

And like I get not knowing about the underground Ishtars, and not being able to get a hold of Shadi because Shadi is a lazy ghost, but Bakura was RIGHT THERE. You can’t munch up Pegasus off screen and then say “eh but Bakura’s kinda low tier” we know for a fact that Bakura is not...so like...there must have been some copyright situation where they couldn’t use certain characters. This is a filler arc--but it would have been nice to have at least some explanation as to why it took Dartz so long to finally murder the hell out of Pharaoh.

Which is me expecting way too much out of this show. Just something I was really hoping would get addressed but leave it for the headcanon.

It’s at this point that Mokuba realized he’s standing on top of people.

A crypt made out of human souls! Crazy, usually we’re in a crypt made out of one single human soul....and both of these crypts have Yugi in it.

In Raphael’s storyline, he’s been busy just cleaning up after everyone else. It’s supposed to come off as very serious but I was totally busting up when he’s just dropping bodies into the back of this jeep.

And in the Kaiba Corp plotline, Roland is anxiously wondering if he should be a Dad and save the kids or if he should be a dog and stay in the plane.

He stays in the plane.

Strangely this was the right call. (And this is why Roland has never died)

So they start throwing around cards, as you do, and Dartz puts down his Orichalcos, has he does, when suddenly...they started seeing stuff again. Can’t have a single card game without it.

So the Orichalcos is just a backstory device? For reals?

Something I alluded to quite a few episodes back with Valon was just...wondering why the hell the Orichalcos crew had so much freakin magic as to make all these visions during duels. Turns out...it’s just a thing to occasionally trip on Oricalchos juice. I’m not sure why we never had a vision with Mai, Weevil, Rex, or Gurimo, but at least we now know that Raphael and Valon weren’t as magical as I thought they were.

So we’re in like...outer space. Kind of the last place you’d expect out of ancient Atlantis and Dartz isn’t having ANY OF IT.

And honestly that makes sense. Imagine giving someone 10,000 years ago the run down on outer space. They’d freak. They’d definitely think you’re talking about demons.

If space is an elaborate analogy, we don’t know that yet. For how this is presented, it’s just an old man hootin and hollerin about how much space sucks, and I love that.

PS how anime is this shot of the earth behind the orichalcos symbol and the dude in the middle with the ass length blue hair--really damn anime, right?

Like at least one of you has this wall hanging, right?

For those that are too tired to look it up, Pangea was 280-230 million years ago.

THAT REALLY CHANGES MY MATH.

AND I’M TOO TIRED.

So my thoughts are...either the math is wrong and I’ll fix it eventually in post, depending on my mood come next Wednesday, OR...humanity was deleted and then came back later??? (because the dawn of mankind was 7 million years ago)

OR...

They just felt like drawing Pangea 10 million years ago. Maybe that’s all. Maybe I don’t have to fix anything. I dunno.

Maybe this isn’t Earth.

Maybe Yugioh Earth never had Loma Preita because it isn’t actually Earth. And, like a Final Fantasy situation, is a second planet on a parallel plane of our own?

Either way, I’m not redoing the math because I actually don’t know how to change it anymore. I’m v undecided of the timeline now......maybe the next episode will tell us more? (I doubt this very much)

RIP deathcount.

Yo Atlantis!

I have a lot of questions!

About Atlantis!

And the purpose of the aqueduct going the wrong direction.

Is that in fact the poop shoot?

But wtv it looks neat.

So anyway, that’s all for now, I hope you enjoyed my bad math, and I hope you enjoy your Halloween. Ours is a whole lot of nothing. I’ll be watching lots of Phasmaphobia streams while eating Butterfingers that I legally can’t give to children because it’s an epidemic (butterfingers is like the last candy that my old 30 yo ass can handle without passing out or gagging. Weird how getting older makes me hate all the good things I couldn’t eat when I was younger because I was too young to be allowed to eat them.) and that’s about it.

WHY did Halloween finally fall on a Saturday DURING an epidemic? I only get so many Saturday Halloweens in my youth...just why.

(and here’s a link to read these in chrono order)

[thefloorisbalaclava]

A Lesson in Manners - Part 2

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Fem!Reader

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: porn with some plot

Part One Part Three

You blinked a few times before hopping down from where you sat by the bathroom sink. He hardly acknowledged you as you walked out of the bathroom. His feet were propped up on the small desk that sat against the wall by the window.

"I'll buy you a drink," you blurted. Jack finally looked at you and raised one eyebrow. "For...you know…" You gestured to your bandaged arm.

"I guess that'll have to do," he said standing with a grunt.

"Okay. I just need to change outta these bloody clothes."

He walked to the door. "You do that. I'll be waitin' in the bar downstairs." You couldn't be certain but you thought you saw the hint of a smirk on his face as he closed the door. You shrugged and quickly changed your clothes then checked yourself in the mirror.

"What the hell am I doing?" you whispered. Why did it matter what you looked like? Jack has seen you at your worst and it's not like you were trying to impress him or anything...right? You rolled your eyes and walked out of the room to the elevator. The whole way down all you could think about was how close he had gotten to you. Sure, it had only been to clean your wound, but…

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. You stepped off and turned left towards the hotel bar. It was lively tonight but you could spot Whiskey in any crowd even without his hat. That dark hair, those chocolate eyes, those kissable lips…you shook that thought away as he lifted his hand to wave you over.

"Took you long enough. I was gettin' thirsty," he complained.

"Stop complaining and order us some drinks...please."

"Oh, so you do have manners." He stood and walked to the bar. You couldn't help but to watch him nor could you help notice how he caught the eye of nearly every woman in a five foot radius. You turned and looked down at the table remembering that you didn't tell him what you wanted to drink. Before you could look up again, he was placing a glass in front of you.

"Oh! That was fast."

"Jack and coke for the lady. Whiskey neat for me." He sat and lifted his glass to you before drinking.

"How did you know what I liked?" you asked before taking a sip of your own drink.

"Saw you drinkin' 'em a few times," he admitted. "You been my partner for months now. You don't think I notice these things?"

"I just didn't think you were watching me like that." Your face felt hot but you weren't sure if it was the drink or something else.

"I know everything, darlin'. Hell, I can even tell you what you're thinkin' about right now." He finished the rest of his whiskey and leaned forward, his forearms on the table.

"Are you a mind reader now, Whiskey?"

"Could be. Let's find out." You shrugged and he looked into your eyes. You made the mistake of looking down at his lips but quickly corrected yourself. "You wanna kiss me," he said then sat back, draping one arm over the back of the chair.

"W-what?" You laughed it off and finished your drink in two gulps.

"Aw, sugar, don't be shy about it. I get it."

You rolled your eyes. "You're really full of yourself, you know." He stood and moved his chair closer to yours making you sit up straighter. "What in the world…"

"So you weren't thinkin' about kissin' me upstairs when I was fixin' you up, when I moved in real close to you like so?" His face was inches away from yours; so close you could feel his breath on your cheeks. "You're thinkin' about it now, ain't you?"

"I-I should pay f-for these drinks," you stammered.

He moved even closer. How is that possible? "You do that, sugar." He pulled away but not before brushing his lips against yours. A goddamn tease. 

As you walked to the bar to pay, you remembered to breathe. You could feel his eyes on you and that made you confident but also nervous. Please don't trip and fall flat on your face. The drinks were paid for and after thanking the bartender you turned to find Whiskey was no longer there. You looked around and spotted him at the entrance. You made your way over but without a word he turned and began walking away. What the hell was he doing?

"Whatever," you mumbled and pressed the button to call the elevator.

"You weren't even gonna try to come look for me, were you?" he asked, walking up behind you.

"Does it look like I was looking for you, Whiskey?" You smiled back at him and walked onto the elevator. He walked on after you and stood on the opposite side staring at you.

"How about you come on over here and kiss me like you want to?"

You scoffed. It was true but you weren't going to tell him that. "You arrogant sonofa--" His lips were on yours before you could finish the thought. You made a sound of surprise but your brain was screaming: finally! Just as you were getting into the kiss, he pulled away and walked back to the other side of the elevator car as if nothing had happened.

"There's more where that came from," he said as the elevator doors slid open. "All you gotta do is say thank you." He walked off the elevator and you followed as if you were in some trance.

"You're really still on that?"

He opened the door and let you inside first. "I sure am." You turned to argue but he was so close to you that you collided with him and he had to wrap an arm around your waist to steady you. "Two little words."

"No...way." You smiled at him and he smiled back before looking down at your lips. 

"Dammit." He kissed you again and you laughed against his lips. "What's so damn funny?" he growled as he pulled away from you.

"Nothing. It's just you...well, you taste like...whiskey."

He smirked. "Heh, ain't that somethin'? But I gotta wonder...what do you taste like?" He backed you up until the back of your knees hit the bed and you fell onto it.

"You've kissed me more than once now. You should know."

"I ain't talkin' about that." He looked down at you and bit his lip.

"Oh," you said quietly.

"Is that all you have to say?" He climbed on top of you but would not touch you. "Tell me you want me. Tell me you want this."

"I want you," you whispered.

"What was that?"

"I want you, Jack." You spoke a little louder.

"How bad?" 

You rolled your eyes and tried to sit up but once he touched you your body fell back against the bed. His hands were under your shirt on your stomach and slowly pushing your shirt up. 

"How bad?" he asked again. His hands found your bra and you gasped. "You gotta tell me, sugar." He squeezed lightly.

"So bad. Please," you begged.

"Sit up," he commanded and you did. He pulled your shirt off then reached around to remove your bra. "Oh, you are a sight." He pushed you gently so that you laid down again.

"Jack…"

"Hm?" Before you could say anything else he lowered himself over you and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples. Your hands found his hair and pulled on it. He snarled and bit down on your nipple.

"Fuck." You never wanted him to stop but he did and you whined.

"Gotta see all of you." He tugged on your pants and you lifted your hips so he could pull them down along with your panties. "Look at you."

"You're a little overdressed don't you think?" You reached out to him but he grabbed your hand and kissed it before holding it above your head. With his free hand he reached between your legs and felt how wet you already were.

"All that for me?" He trailed his finger achingly slow up and down your slit before moving his hand away. "Too bad you don't wanna thank me."

"Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" you shouted desperately. He chuckled as he stood up from the bed and undressed slowly. When he was completely naked he laid down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. "I said thank you, Jack."

"I know. I heard ya. I'm just waitin' for you to get on up here."

"Oh...right." You climbed on top of him excitedly but he stopped you. "What?"

"I meant up here." He pointed to his face and you stiffened.

"Are you sure?"

"Hell yeah. C'mon." He licked his lips as he helped you inch yourself up his torso to his face. You looked down at him nervously, sheepishly. "Go on, babydoll. You ain't gonna hurt Jack." You lowered yourself slowly but he must have been tired of waiting because he wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you down onto his face like a man starved. You cried out and held onto the headboard, your nails digging into the wood.

You had fantasies about how Jack's mouth would feel on you but this was even better than you'd imagined. His tongue was unlike anything you had ever felt as he dragged it slowly over your clit then flicked over it a few times. You clapped your hand over your mouth and cried into it.

"Let Jack hear you, baby." He went back to work on you, his tongue tasting you in ways you had never been tasted before.

"J...Jack...I'm gonna...fuck!" Your hands find his hair and pull. You're overstimulated and trying to pull away but he held you down by thighs, taking every last drop from you. "Please...god…"

He eventually let you go then smiled up at you, his lips and chin completely covered in your essence. "God ain't got anything to do with this, sunshine."

"Do you ever stop talking?" you asked breathlessly as you slid off of him.

"Only when you're sittin' on my face. I mean...I don't talk that much, do I? Can't help myself. See I'm ramblin' now and…" He gasped when he felt your lips wrap around his cock.

"I guess I found another way to shut you up." You slipped him back into your mouth and he immediately put a hand on your head while the other fisted the sheets.

"Oh honey...that was cruel. You should at least warn a man before...sweet mother of…" You cut his thoughts short again as you took him into your mouth as deep as you could. He made the loveliest sounds you had ever heard, crying out before grabbing your hair and pulling you off of him with a pop.

You cleared your throat. "What's wrong?"

"Nothin' at all. I just don't wanna finish here." He sat up slightly and dragged his thumb along your wet lips. "You're somethin' else, ain't you?" As a reply, you grabbed his hand and wrapped your lips around his thumb. "Fuck yeah, you are." With a growl, he removed his thumb from your mouth and pulled you up to him wasting no time in pressing his lips to yours. "What do I taste like now?" he asked.

"Like me." You smiled against his lips.

"Damn right I do." He kissed you again. "Do me a favor...roll onto your side for me. That way." He nodded toward the door. You were facing away from him and it puzzled you for a moment until he pressed himself against you and draped your leg over his. As he slipped inside, you gasped loudly and hid your face in the pillow. "Oh no you don't." He grabbed you by the hair and turned your head so he could kiss you. It was sloppy because of the angle and because he was fucking you in earnest. He reached down to lift your leg as he pounded into you and used his other arm to wrap around your middle, keeping you snug against him.

"Oh fuck Jack! Right there!"

"I know, sugar. I know. I can feel ya." He nibbled on your ear before speaking again. "Remember tellin' me I was full of myself?" You nodded. "Well, it seems that I ain't the only one full of me anymore, huh?" 

You breathed out a small laugh before reaching back and tugging on his hair as you turned your head again to kiss him. "Just like that. Please don't stop, Jack!"

"Yeah? You like that, huh?" He licked into your mouth then pulled away to look down and watch himself slide in and out of you. "You got no business feelin' as good as you do," he grunted. His hand slipped between your legs and found your clit. You tried to close your legs but he kept your leg draped over his. "Let go. I got you."

"I...I...oh Jack!" Your toes curled and you arched into his thrusts as you came around him. He cursed lowly behind you and stiffened, holding you still against him as he filled you. You moved your hips and he hissed before slapping your ass.

"Careful now." He must have felt your reaction to him spanking you because he groaned. "If you wanna go again you're gonna have to give me a minute and...you gotta ask nicely." He turned your head and kissed you before pulling out.

"I'm not doing that," you said rolling over so you could face him.

"Don't make me lasso you," he snarled and you giggled. "Wait a minute...you would love that, wouldn't you?" He cocked an eyebrow at you and you hid your face against his chest. Suddenly, he rolled out of bed and went fishing for something in his bag.

"Come back to bed," you whined. 

"Gotcha," he whispered and pulled out a rope. "It ain't my usual lasso...wouldn't wanna hurt ya but this'll do." He stood and waited for you to say something.

"You really think I'm gonna ask you to tie me up?" you scoffed.

Jack crawled over you and put his face so close to yours that your noses touched. "Still no manners." He tsked and sat up, straddling you. Taking the rope in both hands and pulling tightly, he grinned. "Guess it's time for another lesson, darlin'."

[sanstropfremir]

it’s the episode 8 review!!! how many episodes is this show supposed to even be?

the stages from the episode feel like such a grab bag.... i still don’t understand why they didn’t put all the skill stages together, and then did the normal two episodes of the third round. i guess it makes sense that they didn’t want to have six stages in one episode and then three in the other two, but eh. 

feeling kinda average on these as a whole, there’s a lot of good elements going on here but probably because of my own preferences (i don’t listen to ballads or blackpink) none of them really hit all the buttons. hopefully this will be a shorter review because i'm only going to do a quick rundown of the vocal stages; i dont really have that much to say about them because they are (intentionally) not very stage picture focused. i'll do the normal stage breakdowns for the other two though, even though i won’t rank them because we still need to see the other four!

vocal stages

sf9 + tbz + ikon

not much to say here other than wow, that’s RED. glad to see some more specific use of spotlighting and i always love when they light things on fire. i do wish they had fill lit with a brighter amber so we could actually get a bit more detail on their faces, especially because there’s six of them. i appreciated the simple blocking and only using one of the ‘stages,’ this stage didn’t need to be anything complicated and it wasn’t. i don’t love spinning camera shots because they make me a bit ill, and i'll forgive the constant cutting because it's a vocal stage and there isn’t any other real movement that we should be paying attention to. not my favourite of the two, i found it visually a bit too repetitive and complex at the same time. always love a crushed velvet suit though, so bonus points for that.

atz + skz + btob

i was braced for the worst and i dont know what kind of miracle happened but it was listenable! like i said, not a ballad fan but i could listen to eunkwang all day. i love a good plinth for a ballad stage, they’re one of my favourite devices in kpop design and i especially love it with a good groundlevel fog. glad they kept it black and white for the first half of the stage, it was in line with the blooming flower projections, and it made a very clear colour arc. they kept the visuals clean and simple with very little blocking at all, a very smart choice for this stage. not sure why they decided it would be the chanel time stage, which i disapprove of because i don’t like chanel, but i do love eunkwang’s shirt with the cameo buttons and the massive turnback cuffs, very 17th and also 19th century. i know they never do it because they dont read on stage normally but yes absolutely more thin chain pendant chokers on men, thank you! i also liked that there was emphasis on a more traditional lighting scheme, there weren't any crazy concert effects, just some good directional beam spotlights and the rear stacks in the climax. 

third round stages

ikon

costume

the first look for them is definitely my fabourite of theirs so far. there’s enough variation in the jackets that the base layer of tshirt and jeans don’t look too repetitive. and i do love a good statement jacket. my favourite is probably donghyuk’s because i'm a sucker for fringe always.

i don’t like the backup dancers costumes, but given the way i’ve reacted to every other all black outfit for this entire show i don’t think anyone was surprised about that. these ones particularly irk me because they’re very matte; there's pretty much no texture or pattern differentials to define the shape of the limb, which makes them disappear when theyre all grouped together (mostly on the women). i think they probably were intending to make a statement/emphasis on the hands because of the sleeve cutoff point, but there were so many arm movements that were just totally missed because the costumes were just black voids. most egregious parts are here, with the female dancers up center. i can barely tell what the movements are unless i’m paying specific attention to them because there's so many black shapes. maybe it was the point for it to be an indiscernable writhing mass, but it wasn’t my vibe.

don’t love this styling on lisa. i hate peeptoe shoes in general but peeptoe boots are the worst offenders. they make you look like you have duck feet, no matter who you are. especially with a flat cutout like that. a universally unflattering shoe, and i would know, i worked in a shoe store for two years. this whole look is just pg-13 rihanna cfda awards 2014 and really nobody should try to run up against rihanna.

also i have to mention this because it’s actually really bothering me, but lisa’s backup dancers are serving very allgemeine ss looks and i do not like it. generally when we see ‘military’ uniforms in kpop theyre usually modelled off older styles (pre wwii) of western uniforms that usually aren’t in circulation, and they’re usually non-matching and embellished in ways that are deliberately not military. i know logically that it's a budget constraint+they’re backup dancers+current trend thing but the clean lines with only button detailing and the all black and that specific harness shape? it hit my brain the wrong way. i mean, technically those uniforms are designer because hugo boss did them, but the uh..... girlboss move didn’t land for me.

this is my PERSONAL OPINION please for the love of all that is holy do not come yelling at me about this. it’s all under a cut, you chose to read the post.

set

very glad to see some busy kitschy sets! this is a massive build, since there’s essentially three full sets here: the temple, the jungle, and the first tiny room. and all of them are very heavily decorated. 

the starting room is just five walls on casters (wheels), that have been set into place with the cameraman and ikon inside at the start, and then once they exit the walls can be easily struck and rolled off set. simple, smart, and convenient!

i missed it the first couple times around but glitching out the projections in the temple for a split second was a neat little trick.

the silver and polygonal nature of the tiger/panther/cat(?) head is a bit disconnected from the gold and the aesthetic of the rest of the stage for me. the difference between the original room set and the jungle tracks, but the cat head isnt able to make the same leap for me. i'm also not a fan of mixing metals so maybe that’s why.

the tiger/panther/cat(?) head is a fun physical transitional device; i'm a big fan of tunnels and small transitory spaces like that and if they’re well dressed like this one they do so much for establishing place and mood.

i'm very sure i’ve seen this style of polygonal animal head with laser eyes before....i cannot for the life of me remember where or for what. i know wang yibo did a panther stage for sdc3 that had a human formation panther with green laser eyes, i wonder if i'm just crossing wires.

OH nevermind it’s because it looks like the witcher medallion. wires were definitely crossed.

lighting

using purple/teal lighting for the jungle was a smart choice because purple is the direct compliment to the gold and also is much more flattering on humans than green. green is one of the colours that humans can see the most variations in, so when something is green when it's not supposed to be (like human skin), we register that very quickly and associate it with unease and sickness. you know how old fluorescent lights have that greenish tinge that kinda makes you feel ill? it's your cone cells and your brain recognizing that you’re looking at things that are not supposed to be green.

very clean colour arc, i love to see it.

sound

it’s.....fine? i don’t listen to blackpink and have no opinions on their music other than it's not my type. i dont really know what the thematic connection to the visuals is, which is not strictly necessary in a lot of cases, but i don’t particularly care for the conflation of ‘savage’ and a (presumably) precolonial religion that’s assembled from stereotypes of real colonized cultures. you can come at me about how ‘it's not that deep’ all you want but i am here specifically doing an in depth analysis, and i gotta point it out. i'm not here to pass judgement on you if you didn’t realize or don’t care or whatever, i'm just saying that it's important to consume content with a critical eye. what you do with that information is your own personal choice, but you should be aware of it at least. 

staging

they took a big risk eating popcorn right before singing, and we definitely got some residual mouth noises of them trying to clean out their teeth. eating on stage is difficult in general because you have to make sure it's not going to dry out the performers mouths, because they dont have access to water and it takes WAY longer to chew and swallow something than you would expect. there’s a LOT of testing that goes into making stage food and guaranteed it’s not made out of what it looks like or what its supposed to be; i worked on a production of amadeus were we did literal weeks of testing amalgams of different desserts to make sure that salieri could actually eat the ones onstage without totally drying him out, because fun fact about that show, salieri doesnt leave stage like, at all, so there was no way to get him water. poor bloke.

i thought the blocking of this was really smart. the long take from the ‘normal’ room and transition into the jungle was super slick, even if that weird circle the camera did while pointed up at the ceiling was unnecessary and pointless.

bobby’s ‘acting’ was extremely funny and that’s the only way people are allowed to act surprised now. edvard munsch scream style only.

the pacing is a bit off and this time it wasn’t mnet’s editing that fucked it up. as fun as it is to have a feature, clearly she wasn’t allowed within proximity of the rest of them for covid or other yg related reasons, but it made for some extremely long transitions, especially the one out of her verse. it kills the momentum of the stage in that beat, even though they manage to pick it up after.

this is a very simple little narrative arc that’s easy to follow and doesn’t require any extra explaining. which is exactly the kind of arc that groups should be doing at this stage in the game. this is a good formic step up for ikon!

i thought the turning off of the monitor at the end was fun and a good callback to them watching the videos at the beginning of the stage. a nice clean way to make it circular.

skz

costume

FINALLY something different on the skz boys! these were mostly fun eboy looks for them, and i like it on the basis that it's not the same as the last set of costumes.

bang chan out there with his thigh OUT and a (fake) bridge piercing? LOVE to see it. great work.

(copy-paste every thing i’ve said about backup dancers wearing all black)

the backup dancers that were dressed as bystanders/extras were great! they should have kept that with all of them because it would have given a little more shape to the choreography and establishing what function the backup dancers were supposed to have.

set

that is meant to be a giant rice cooker on stage, right? i think so because it's a god’s menu mashup? if that's not a rice cooker i have NO idea what its supposed to be

there’s only two large setpieces here, which was a smart way to go. i LOVE the subway car doubling as the truck, even if the truck itself makes no narrative sense. what a fun way to double the use of a single big piece. you’ll be able to see the way it moves in the full cam but it splits down the centre and there entrance doors at the back with attached stairs that bang chan and the dancers use to climb up.

lighting

not a whole lot happening here. i like the cool white leds in the subway car and the contrast with the more warm tones of the outside, which is good atmospheric establishment, but i can't discern a visible arc. 

not a fan of these projections; they’re in line with what we’ve seen from skz so far, which is: extremely literal. i dont think they’re that distracting, but they’re not to my personal taste. they really should have kept the comic panel theme that they did for changbin’s first verse, because that was inventive and fun to watch! and a great atmospheric indicator! i would love to see a bit more experimental projection use but it's hard when they don’t have a lot of time to build these stages and the lighting team is definitely working remotely.

sound

i love that they made the choice to do some actual talking, it’s a good gimmick and it works for the deadpool/comic book/fourth wall break theme, but australian accents take me the fuck out i am so sorry i cannot listen to either felix or bang chan speak english without laughing uncontrollably. 

i don’t like this arrangement but i'm not surprised about that, given my predilections. i'm also tired of skz shouting STRAY KIDS in every performance they do. i know on music shows it's probably more relevant and yea producers tags are a thing but we’ve been watching this show for nearly two months at this point. we know who you are, you can stop yelling. be more creative with it!

staging

my biggest issue with this stage is that it doesn’t have a payoff. there is an arc here: they’re stealing the truck, but why are they stealing the truck? who are they stealing it from? who are they fighting against? it's kind of important in a stage where the theme is stealing and fighting someone that you tell us who that is. in both of ateez’s previous stages were they were both stealing (rhythm ta) and fighting (wonderland), they made sure to show us who the villain was. there needs to be tension for a big blowup climax to actually pay off. whether it be against a a balloon arm kraken or a fascist government. this stage could have reached that next step if they’d just done a little bit more exposition. 

there were a lot of fun choreo moments here, and this is probably my favourite choreo of theirs so far. i thought the whole first bit in the subway car was excellent and a very fun play on those viral videos that we used to see roll around every so often of dancers doing routines in subway cars.

did it need the guns? not in the slightest. more on this point later. i could talk more about weapons and weight here, but i’ve done that several times already.

like with the tbz game of thrones stages, theyre relying a little too much on the audience's preconceptions of the source material in order to carry the theme. the guns are there because deadpool likes guns, but they don’t actually use the guns for anything? the most we get of the stealing segment is felix and the safe, which admittedly is a great bit with him leaping over and under the ‘laser’ lines (theyre likely led strips). because comic books are by nature procedural and deeply tied to narrative, it's unsatisfying when there’s no tension and no payoff.

HOW did we manage to get two stages that are blackpink covers with remote/tv static gimmick and durags? i know the slot machine of kpop tropes is not very big but surely the probability of hitting triple sevens on this one was pretty low. i’m pretty meh on both of these stages overall. skz was unsatisfying but i loved the choreo in the subway bit so that bumped it up a little ahead of ikon’s in my personal preferences, but i'm reserving my actual rankings for next week. assuming we get the other four stages next week and they dont do something stupid and only show two. which they very well might. i’ve stopped trying to understand why mnet does things the way that they do. 

as always the ask box is open, drop your comments/questions/personal opinions, i love to hear ‘em! but don’t be rude just because some of this is touchier subject material.

[sleepdeprivedheretic]

Price for Flight (Ch.2)

Warnings: Still fluff, it’s tarnished with smut, at the end, though (Like, you can read the fic and skip the end and it’d still make sense).

Disclaimer: This is a work of pure fiction taken from real countries, traditions, and gaining citizenship, spun into a story that doesn’t hold these things firmly. 

To your surprise, the atmosphere wasn’t much different. The two of you talked, laughed, and joked, but this time, there was flirting, blushing, and talk of planning the two of you meeting again. Of course with busy jobs, one would have to relocate, and find the same one, but in another country.

“I would like to move to Japan with you.” You told him. He looked at you with surprise.

“Ya...ya sure? Chickadee, we can always meet in the middle, ya know? Maybe move to a whole ‘nother place?” He offered, but you shook your head.

“I’m a bit more familiar with Japan, and I can speak and write in the language. I just wanna be there, with you.” You murmured, and you were rewarded with one of his softer looks and a warm smile.

“You’re such a sap. My sap.” He smiled at the thought, and you couldn’t help but replicate it.

“Man, we gotta talk about movin’ your job, things, living arrangements….anyways, my parents are naggin’ me about how I should’ve confessed years ago.” He huffed.

“I think the timing is perfect, now. We’re both adults with good jobs, and we both know what we want, now.” You admitted as you leaned the phone against the wall, giving him a view of your neat round kitchen table, and you stirring your tea.

“True. Heh, I remembered the first day ya bumped into me, all cryin’-”

“Hey! I wasn’t crying!”

“-an’ cute. I think the part in which I hadda major crush on ya, was when ya hands down just introduced me to yer friends. Didn’ care if I was foreign, fat, or bullied, ya did that shit as if ya owned the place.” He chuckled at your flustered expression.

“Well, I didn’t really care of what others think.” You mumbled, and he leaned in the camera, giving you a dorky grin.

“So?” He egged you on, and you huffed out a laugh.

“I thought that you were cute even before I really knew you.”

“Wait, really?” He looked surprised, and you nodded.

“Yeah. You were pretty shy, and you helped out when you could, giving that boy some of your lunch, or bringing in a spare umbrella just in case if somebody had forgotten theirs. You were always kind of nice, and I thought that was cute.” You rambled on, taking glances at him as he looked at you with wonderment.

“Ya remembered that five years ago?” He murmured, and you flushed.

“Well, yeah.”

“How cute.” He hummed with a genuine smile.

…..

 “Oh my lord!” You huffed, pulling your wheeled baggage as you made your way to get off of the plane. It was finally happening. Instead of one year like you originally planned, it took two of them. The two of you spent pining for seven long years, and finally, including the year of the aquarium date, it was three years in total that you two were a couple.  

Not only did you had to become a citizen of Japan, but you had to job search, save money, and break it to your family that you’ll be leaving the country. It wasn’t easy, but you’ve done it. Of course, becoming a citizen, you had to go through hoops.

Of course, Taishiro kept offering to move to your own country, but you were adamant in your decision.  You had to lose your old nationality, support documents that proved your birth, citizenship, and even driver’s license as you had to hand-write a letter in Japanese stating on why you were leaving your old country.

Amazingly, you’ve gotten accepted to move within a year, stating that although you are able to marry, you cannot leave Japan for at least five years, and will be monitored each year to see if you were capable of following the laws and customs.

 Save for the lights from the airport, a pitch black sky hovered over you as you made your way down the platform, luggage in tow as you searched for familiar blond hair and bright orange sweater, avoiding the multiple of humming and loud talk of strangers around you.

“Chickadee!” His voice reached towards your ears, and your attention snapped to the direction of his voice. He was standing there, holding a sign with your name on it as he grinned so brightly, you swore that you could hear it.

“Ah! Gummybear!” You shouted out, waving as the two of you made your way towards each other. Truthfully, the last time you’ve actually seen in each other in person was the day at the aquarium, so you were hyped up and buzzing with pleasant nerves. You were here to stay, you thought. You would move your limited amount of luggage to his house, and the day after, talk to your representative about which jobs are available, and how fast you can start.

 Your thoughts were cut short as you were enveloped in a tight hug, him squeezing you as he mimicked the actions of his earlier years, scooping you up as you let out a squeak of surprise, and then twirling you around, except this time, a firm wet kiss was planted on your mouth as he held you up, still.  

“Oh, Baby, I missed ya.” He cooed, and your face flushed as you looked down at him warmly, your heartbeat quickened it’s pace as time seemed to still.

“I missed you, too. It’s nice hearing your voice that’s not nullified by the phone’s speakers.” You admitted, and he nodded as he reluctantly settled you down.

“Where’s your parents?” You asked.

“Decided to visit us when it won’t be so late and we’re not busy.” He admitted, and then noticed your flushed face.

“Oh! You pervert!” He huffed.

“You had to word it like that!” You whined in defense, and he rolled his eyes.  

“’Twas a normal sentence. Ya just have your mind in the gutter. Then again,” A twinkling gleam shone in his eyes as he leaned down, smirking smugly at you.

“-so do I.” He pecked you on your forehead, leaning away as he grinned at your surprised expression.  

“’Come on. Let’s go home, Sweetling.”

You couldn’t have said it better.

…..

 He had moved into an actual house while two years in the relationship, stating that not only they were cheaper than some apartments, but you and him could always refurnish some rooms and decorate the way you want to. Of course he had showed you pictures of it, but nothing compared to stepping inside the place.

It was nicely furnished, and built, him saying that he only had a few years left to pay it off, but with his job, and your upcoming one, it should be easier. Of course there was a little doubt, but you believed that the two of you would make this work.

“I know that you’re tired, but are ya hungry? I fixed us somethin’ to eat.” He broke the silence as he set your bags down on the floor, walking into the kitchen. You plopped down on the dark orange couch, curling into the side of the arm as he came back in with a large tray, setting it down on the coffee table in front of you. He sat down next to you, pulling you up to lean into his side as the delicious aroma sifted towards you. He chuckled, noticing that your focus was on the plate, now.  

“Made it from scratch. Ya probably remember Ma makin’ it, but I thought I’d start givin’ it a whirl.” He explained as you looked at the different bowls of food on the table. Rice, miso soup, grilled fish, pickled vegetables, and green tea laid out before you. You smiled, remembering his mom telling you to sip the tea slowly, and take small bites, and then turning her attention to scold Taishiro for doing the exact opposite.

“Thank you, it smells amazing.” You said truthfully, and he pleasantly hummed, grabbing his own chopsticks, joining you.  

“So?” He asked, breaking the silence when the two of you were done.

“Delicious.” You beamed, and he chuckled as he wiped away a speck of sticky rice off of your face. You weren’t surprised this time when he ate it, but you were a little by the way he stared at you and slowly ran his tongue over his thumb.

“Yeah, it is. Anyway, ya wanna sleep next to me or on the couch? I know it’s kinda sudden, but I won’t force ya to be uncomfortable.” He murmured, and your heart fluttered.

“We can share a bed.”  You admitted shyly, and he smiled a little. After putting away the dishes, cleaning them, and brushing your teeth, you let out a surprised yelp as he picked you up, holding you in his arms as if you were a bride.

“T-Taishiro!” You stammered, and he barked out a laugh.

“Heh, I kinda wanted to do this for a while.” He gingerly laid you on the queen-sized bed, heeding you no mind as he took off his shirt, tossing it into the laundry basket. You admit, he had changed a lot since the two of you were kids. He was round and had gained muscle mass from working out at the local gym, and all in all, he was very attractive to you. You batted away your tired thoughts as you buried yourself underneath the blankets, entirely exhausted as he did the same.

You let out a surprised little hum in your throat as he pulled your frame towards him, slotting it against his as you to hear his thundering heartbeat while you soaked in his warmth.

“’M happy that you’re finally here.” He murmured, and you nodded in agreement, looking up at him.

“Me too. It feels as if it’s a dream, you know? Saying goodbye to everyone at home, looking for a new job in a different place with different laws and customs.” You let the sentence slur as you couldn’t help but nod off.

“Go to sleep, Darlin’. You’ve got a big day ahead of ya, tomorrow, and I’ll see ya after work, alright?” He kissed your forehead.

“Goodnight, Tai.” You murmured sleepily, nodding into his chest, arms wrapped around each other as the sound of his heart beat lulled you to sleep.

…………………

 It was a long day, you had to admit, but it was successful. You were able to start your job within a week, as well as the representative who monitored you, was more than happy to fill you in with any questions that you might’ve had, and was impressed with your politeness, non-criminal background, and over all, good moral character. You smiled to yourself widely, gripping your spare keys to the house as you began unlocking it. He was home, you knew, but it was always safe to lock your doors.

“Honey, I’m home!” You chirped excitedly, and it didn’t take him long to greet you, smiling at your joyous expression as you hugged him tightly.  

“Good day, huh? Ya look way chipper than yesterday.”

“I was happy, yesterday, just tired. I start my job in a week! Plus it’s day shift, so we can have more time for each other when we get home!” You rambled on, and his ears and cheeks flushed.

 He leaned down and kissed you, then. It was a little more firm than the other ones that you’ve shared, a little different and heavier. To your surprise, he licked at your bottom lip, holding you rather closely to him as he sucked and bit gently. Taking the hint, you opened your mouth, and he hummed in approval, sweeping his tongue against yours, goading you into a small moan. It ended too fast as it began, as he broke away, grinning in victory at your equally flushed face.

 “You hungry, Baby? I made somethin special, this time. Just a lil’ somethin’ to tell ya how proud I am of ya.” He  changed the subject, and you looked up at him through your lashes, flustered.  

“You didn’t have to do that, Dear.” You spared him a glance.

“Wanted to. Ya...ya made so much sacrifice just to be here, ya know? Goin’ through loops just to be with me...an’ I appreciate you. Tonight…if ya don’t mind, I want to treat you specially.” He cupped your cheek, brushing a stray hair away from your face with his palm as he looked at you tenderly. Heart swelling, you nodded.

“Are we going to-?” You let the sentence hang, and his face bloomed into a fierce red as he glanced at you.

“Only if ya want to. I know, it’s a lil’ sudden, and I will never push ya, ya know. I’m just a lil’…ya know.” He finished lamely into his rambling, and you understood.

“Taishiro, we have all the time in the world. You’re not the only one who’s nervous.” You admitted, and he sighed in relief.

“We can talk about this later.” He murmured, and you nodded.

“After we eat your amazing dish.” You grinned, and he smiled.

…………..    

He made the two of you seafood tempura, and each bite was delicious. It was nice, you weren’t too tired, so you indulged into some light joking and table talk, surprising each other by offering a bite from one’s chopsticks, laughing as he had the gall to lean down and lick the sauce from your cheek. It was one of the best nights you’ve ever had, feeling so safe in a familiar setting.

“Hah, I love you.” You told him while the two of you cleaned the dishes. He kissed the corner of your mouth and you let out a beaming smile.

“I love you, too.” He admitted, flushing as you leaned against him.

 “Do you know much about sex?” You asked, suddenly, and he stilled.

“Well, uh, I know that porn is highly exaggerated, an’ so…I kinda looked up some information on sites. I wanted to be prepared when we...you know. So I went ahead an’ bought condoms that won’t tear, easily, an’ are compatible with the lube.” He rambled on a bit, nervousness evident in his voice.

“I’m glad you thought things through.” You cooed gently, rubbing his back as you felt him relax a little.

“I didn’t wanna rush ya, but I thought they’d be handy jus’ in case. They’re brand new, so it’ll be a while ‘fore they expire.” He admitted. You smiled.

“You’re more than fine. I’m glad that you took the time to do this. You’re amazing.” You reassured him genuinely, and he gingerly took your hand, kissing the pulse on the inside of your wrist.  

“Thank you, Sweetheart. I think the “amazing” title, belongs to you, though.”

“We’ll share it.” You grinned.

………….*Nsfw

   It didn’t take the two of you long. After reaching the bedroom, he started getting the stuff ready, placing the condoms, moist towelettes, and lube on the nightstand beside the bed.

��Ya sure about this?” He asked, and you nodded, confirming your decision as you tugged at your shirt.   His face bloomed with red as he followed your example, the two of your nervously yet wantonly taking glances at each other. You were already laid out on the bed, knees closed together as your arms rested against your breasts, trying not to let the cool air chill you down as you stared at him through your eyelashes, drinking him in while he returned the favor.

His efforts at his gym routine had shown as he stood before the foot of the bed. He had a thick, burly build, and had gained some weight, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Of course you couldn’t ignore everything that was bared out for you, and you felt heat churn in your stomach as you seen his member twitch with excitement from your staring. It had more girth than length, but it was an impressive size, straining upwards with a slight curve as the reddened tip oozed out clear precum from the slit, and your throat suddenly had felt dry.

“You’re very handsome.” You admitted, and he let out a soft smile.

“Says the beautiful woman lyin’ on our bed.” He slid on top of the mattress, crawling towards you with a heated stare as he effortlessly positioned himself to hover above you, grinning softly down at you with an almost cocky smirk.

“My woman.” He leaned down and kissed you, and you returned it, cupping his cheeks gently as he hummed.

“Mmh. Been wantin’ to kiss an’ do other things with ya for the longest time.” He murmured, and you smoothed out the ruffles in his hair, looking up at him with a gentle look.

“Me too. Glad we figured this out.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna start, alright? Lemme take care of ya?” He asked, and you found yourself nodding, not minding at all.

It didn’t take too long, he poured a generous amount of strawberry scented lube onto his fingers, rubbing the sticky yet smooth liquid to warm it up, as you slowly but surely widened your knees, letting his heated stare burn at your secretive places.  

“So pretty.” He hummed, kissing one of your kneecaps. You almost jumped a little as two of his fingers slipped past your folds, traveling down to the tight muscle of your vaginal opening as he probed it gently, thumbing your clit as you felt the ache be relieved. He was too far away to touch, but he leaned down, kissing you to distract you from your feeble attempts.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. Don’t think that I might last long, since it’s…ya know, first time doin’ this.” He admitted sheepishly, but you kissed him in reassurance, letting out a cooing whimper as his fingers had entered you, gently stretching your walls as his thumb rubbed a little firmer at your clit. Of course his fingers were bigger and more calloused than yours, so you let yourself feel the oddity of the familiar feeling be twisted into something almost new.

You couldn’t but let out a few whimpers, him biting his lower lip as his eyes were focusing onto you, drinking in the foreign noises that you were emitting that caused his dick to twitch as he was now four digits in, stretching you thoroughly.

“I’m ready.” You blurted out, and he gave you a once-over.

“I’m bigger than what I’m givin’ ya. Ya sure, though?” He asked, his own patience was admittedly running thin, especially watching you climb up that high, bucking your hips to his shallow movements as your arousal dripped onto his hand and sheets.  

“Yeah. I think we’ve both been waiting for a long time.” You pointed out, and he nodded his own need was aching and restrained, and you being eager, didn’t help ease his patience.  

“Alright.” He reached for the box of condoms, taking one out as he neatly tore the foil and wrapper. You watched in interest as he let out a needy grunt, tugging the ribbed condom upwards, letting the band settle against the thickness of his girth. He looked as if he was about to cum just from doing that, and you swallowed thickly.

He poured more lube onto the condom, wiping the excess onto the sheets as he positioned himself, gently prodding at your entrance. When the tip was in, he opted to lean down, gripping your hands into his as he kissed your forehead and mouth tenderly while he was neatly seated between your legs.

“I’ll be gentle, okay?” He murmured, and you smiled at the cliché phrase, but it melted your heart on how sweet and genuine it had sounded.

“I love you, you dork.” You grinned as he rolled his eyes rather playfully.

“Love you, too. Hold on, Sweetheart.” He ordered, sliding in inch by inch as your walls stretched to fit the thick girth and size of him. Luckily, you were loosened and stretched, already, so it had surprised you on how easily he had fit. Finally, he bottomed out, but he looked as if he was wrecked, trying his best not to finish so quickly. You thumbed his cheek, poking his nose rather playfully despite the serious atmosphere.

“Ya hurt?” He offered to ask. You shook your head.

“No. I feel full. It’s alright, Tai. You can move.” You said softly, and he did, hardly pulling out as he rutted in small movements, one hand rubbing your clit, as if trying to make you have your release, first.

“Baby, I…I’m tryin’.” He bit out, eyebrows furrowed as you felt the small movements stir your insides, the curved head hitting a certain spot just right, and the ribbed condom helped cause a delicious friction within you. You knew that he wasn’t going to last, long, but you were very close, as well. You wished that it would last a little longer, him panting above you as he squirmed, trying not to cum, as sweat and a bit of tears of frustration clouded his eyes. You in your heightened senses and dizzying mind, couldn’t help but reach up and brush away the wetness, leaning up and kissing the corner of his mouth as you did so.

“I’m getting near, too.” You panted out as your hips bucked into his rutting, legs wrapped around him as if refusing to let him pull farther out. He leaned down, huffing in your ear as the two of your breaths quickened.

“Please? Please cum?” He whined, and the sheer plead had sent fuel to your blazing heat as he continued to rub your clitoris desperately, giving sharper thrusts with an almost feral need. Your brain, as the rest of your body stilled as tendrils of shock shot through you all of a sudden, surprising you as you clamped tightly around him. He cursed, feeling your hot and tight channel grip him ever so tightly all of a sudden, and he couldn’t control his release shooting inside of the condom as his posture mimicked your still form.

It was all too soon, but it quelled the burning and aching inferno that threatened to consume you both. He panted, eyes squeezing shut as your hands had found themselves in his hair, again while you cracked open an eyelid, watching him through the constellation of tears that had mussed into your lashes.

Both of your limbs were trembling, and honestly, you were surprised that he was still holding himself up, refusing to crush you as the two of you floated down from your highs.

“You alright, Honey?” He rasped out, and you nodded, feeling way too sweaty and hot all of a sudden. He surprised you as he gingerly moved out when he felt that you’ve loosened up, again. You felt the weird feeling of him sliding out, making you feel oddly empty as you watched him fumble around, slipping the rubber off, tying it into a knot, and tossing it into the waste basket.

“How are you still even moving?” You asked solemnly, and he chuckled lowly.

“Use to work outs at the gym. This is a little different, though.” He answered, grabbing some of the towelettes, moving towards you. You felt tired, yet warm and safe as he quickly wiped the two of you down, wasting very little time as he threw the used items away. Flicking the table lamp off, he laid next to you, scooping you into his side, resting his chin upon your head as he grabbed the covers and tossed them onto the both of you.

 He kissed you tenderly, as you showered him with little bouts of affection, squeezing his hand gently or running your fingers through his hair.

“You’re amazing.” You broke the silence, and he hummed.

“You should meet my future wife, if ya think so.” He winked, and you smiled, and then yawned as he chuckled.

“Go to sleep, Chickadee. I don’t have work, tomorrow, so we can just ignore my parent’s calls an’ make love all day.” He chuckled, and your heart swelled with warmth as you kissed him slowly, catching him a little off guard, but he melted into the kiss, as if receiving your affections.

………………..

End? End. Yeah reader gets a job, and they get married and have a rebel little daughter named Kirin (Rita’s @youtubequeens OC that we’ve plotted, lol) who’s a tough little shit.

[pleasancies]

Secret

wordcount : 1.3k+

cw : referenced past torture, self-harm

tropes : nightmares, emotional whump, first aid (sutures), hand injury, sibling caretaker, hero whumper

After being silenced whumpee tries so hard to keep their life together, but caretaker knows somethings wrong. They eventually overheard the secret that whumper had been torturing whumpee. Made for @whumpmasinjuly for prompt 21

***

Part 2

No matter how gentle Annie pushed the door, it squeaked like a dying rat to announce her presence. She muttered a curse, it's midnight and her brother's asleep. Gotta mind the neighbors too. They've known Mrs. Payton since their childhoods, but she spend too much time watching late night tv. She would notice Annie only work at unholy hours of the night. She's not close enough for Annie to use her powers.

Annie expected the living room to be empty. She almost throw her body to the couch before she noticed the lights are on. And the sofa was occupied.

It was Kyle. Only him. Sprawled on the seat, one hand outstretched to the coffee table. It was bandaged, red seeping at the edges.

Annie shook his shoulders in alarm. Her brother stirred, his bandaged arm making him wince in surprise as he try to rub his eyes.

"What's wrong with your hands?"

"Work accident." Kyle mumbled.

It wasn't a neat wrapping. Annie knew from experience. The stitching was done with shaky hands, a lot like the ones she used to make after a heist gone wrong and going to the hospital meant going behind bars.

Still she gave him a grin, "You got your hand stuck in the vending machine?"

"Fuck off," There was supposed to be a slight chuckle from Kyle, and he'd tell the real story like a stupid accident when he's experimenting in the kitchen or his dumb boss cutting corners and making everyone miserable, but the look on his face was dark.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Kyle's expression was almost apologetic now, "I had a long day, that's it." He got up from the couch and made a beeline to his bedroom, leaving Annie to her own devices.

After coming home, she doesn't go to straight to bed. Her blood was still pumping with adrenaline. Sometimes when she had to cross paths with a hero, the first few hours home would be dedicated to tending her injuries and getting used to pain. Dealing with it have to be done in silence. She might have been able to make people forget or stop noticing inconsistencies, but it wasn't foolproof if she didn't do her part of pretending.

Annie would have loved the night's incident as an isolated event, but what happened the next morning proved otherwise.

She head to the kitchen at five in the morning, acting slightly groggy as if she slept last night. Kyle was already there. He stood on the sink, gritting his teeth. He's washing the dishes. His bandaged hand holds a sponge. Drops of blood tainting last night's dinner. He's trembling.

"Kyle."

Her older brother doesn't answer. He's transfixed to bits of rice sticking to the bowl. Annie had to practically tear him off from the sink. She hold the urge to slap him while rushing to her bedroom. First aid kits. Supplies that would tip him off of her career. It doesn't matter at the moment.

"Come on, let me help you."

"I can do it myself." Kyle spat. He pulled his hands away.

Annie caught his hands anyway. "Yeah, like soaking your hands in shit would make it better."

Kyle glared daggers at her but he doesn't left like last night. The lines of his face deepened in anger as she examined the wound. The soaked bandages cling at his skin. His fingers had swollen so much in a single night. She could see the stitches now. Red and uneven. Thank goodness Annie didn't see any pus in the wound.

Cold alcohol meets Kyle's skin and he doesn't even flinch. He kept his cool as Annie sutured the cut on his fingers. She traced a faint line above the injury. All straight lines. Right in the middle. With consistent depth. This was no accident.

"Who did this you?"

"I didn't know you could stitch wounds like a doctor, Annie."

"Answer my question first," Annie was surprised how harsh she sounded. Her hands stopped, and she tried again, gentler this time, "Crap, sorry for yelling at you. I'm spooked is all. You came home with flayed fingers last night. And then you do this. What were you thinking?"

"I had an accident at work." His voice sounded so tired she's sure he doesn't get to sleep either. "Are you done patching me up? I have to work."

"With a messed up hand like this? You're kidding. I will literally lock you in the house."

Kyle didn't find her attempts at humor funny. He merely winced as the needle goes through his skin. All Annie had to do after was covering the sutures, and it was a silent affair with tensions thick in the air.

"You're not going to work today right?"

"My boss will be mad."

Something had happened. Kyle isn't speaking. Have to take a different approach.

"You're lying. Someone hurt you. I could tell from the cuts." Annie took a moment, intently studying her brother's face. Somewhere betweeen running away and lashing out. "You don't have to say who it is. We got our secrets, and I shouldn't pry for yours when you let me do my own thing. Just please don't go to work like this. That's all I'm asking from you."

There she does it. A vague confession that her job wasn't what she'd told him. Hints that she know that he knows, and it's okay. All she wanted was to hear a name from him. Who did it.

"I'll stay," Kyle said.

Her heart sanked, but she sighed in relief regardless.

Kyle had changed. That one is certain. For once in her life, Annie was grateful her brother is terrible at keeping secrets. It might have given them an unnecessary amount of lectures from their late parents, but it was a blessing in situations like this. A few years ago after their parents died, Kyle had taken a better paying job for them. His burnout then have been transparent. Annie hoped it would be the last one. That damned self-sacrificing buffoon, she mused.

Her brother is soundly asleep in the couch. He'd been tossing and turning before finally settling down. Annie sat on the floor, absentmindedly playing her old video games on mute. She derived no enjoyment from it. Her mind is elsewhere. Who were the people she had to suspect first? It was outrageous. Villains do abduct, some even beat their spouse, but it took certain lack of foresight to torture a rival's family.

Annie put down her console. Her brainstorming have been futile. No other way around it than asking around in the streets. She turned her attention to Kyle. His legs were twitching. His brows furrowed, and the slight turn his head did suggested a nightmare was upon him. Annie lightly tapped his arm, and he whimpered in fear.

"Stop, I don't know." Kyle mumbled in his sleep. He kept repeating. Please. I don't know. You got the wrong guy.

Something stabbed and twisted in Annie's heart. She whispered to him, "Who did this to you?"

"Sympath, please stop."

Annie stroked his forehead, just like what their mom used to do. Kyle had been her parents for a time, and maybe this time it's a chance to return the favor. She squeezed her knuckles, quelling down the anger radiating out of her. She shushed her brother, speaking of soft things until his breathing slowed. She waited until Kyle stopped squirming before heading upstairs to his room.

She wasn't surprised, but disappointed nonetheless. The Andrea poster her brother collected have been ripped off. Some of the edges stuck on the walls. His trash bin was full of portrait paper.

Of course. The names she'd been looking for. Hell, she should have known. The duo was brutal. They don't hesitate maiming unpowered mooks. Annie's girlfriend have been hospitalized because of them. It was almost natural to see their escalation. Annie turned her attention to Kyle. Poltergeist have been a robber long enough. It's time she took murderer as a title. Sympath and Andrea won't even notice.

[poisonous-widow]

Good enough?

Adult katsuki bakugou / Pro hero x Adult Female Pro hero / singer

Summary: You were cheated on and it broke you down. But things never last forever. You pack your things and you leave with your kids, bakugou is filled with guilt and regret when he realises your truly gone. 

Content: Angst, Crying, Depression, Cursing

WARNING NOTE: If you don’t like reading these types of genres then please DO NOT READ! However, if you are determined to manage through it then i wish you luck. Please be sure to have some tissues, a cry pillow to hug, blankets and water for hydration for the water fountains to come!

P.S: IDK if i’m good at these, first time so i expect this to be bad lol. Enjoy though! (づ^ω^)づ  and please don’t hesitate to comment about it and if i should make a number two, byeee.

__________________

One 

I am, the diamond you left in the dust

How many times has it been..Since you two once said those three sacred words, “I love you”? 

Your Beautiful E/c sea foam hues wandered the beautiful decor of your walls of your- Both shared bedroom. This very room, Four years ago was a cave of love, a sacred place you could never live or feel whole without the other. You let your mind reminisce the memory of the night when you would hold your other half to your bare chest and let your soft slender fingers coarse through his hair lovingly, his arms tightly secured around your naked waist with his forehead to your chest, eyes closed with relaxation and exhaustion from the previous events that happened. Making the bed, usually a mess. 

But now..It felt like a lost,floating memory in your body. 

You released a breathless sigh as you dropped your bag on the plush bed, tossing the keys on the small lamp desk beside the mattress frame, “I’m home”, Your voice whispered. Oh how you wished he would answer you back with a warm welcome, anything that could lift the heavy weight which pushed on you...but no. 

How could something like that ever happen..? 

When you graduated from U.A, Katsuki Bakugou proposed to you and of course, you happily said yes. He was your husband and you, his loyal and up-most beloved wife. You two still continued as heroes but time to time, you wouldn’t show up. That was because you were the head lead singer of the famously known band “koi”. You told your Husband about it and he agreed to keep your singing identity hidden, as long as he got free access to your performances and that he was able to see you in the best views. Singing was your second love and you wanted to have that in your life still, so having your identity hidden and your lover keeping it a secret was a good thing.

However, time passed by, you noticed that things began to change. Katsuki had started his own Hero agency and was never home much. texts and calls never answered. It frustrated you. You could understand the amount of hero work he would get and the amount of events he’d have to present himself to. But you knew when someone needs to take breaks. Shouldn’t he too? You love katsuki so much that you wished that he would take better care of himself. To be home with you and just relax, hearing you sing a sweet tune or be there when you had your...little breakdowns over the littlest things. Katsuki was your rock and would listen to you when you vent out your problems about the band. he would always be there when you needed it. But now he wasn’t. 

I am, the future you lost in the past

VRRR, VRRR, VRRR

What was that..? 

VRRR, VRRR, VRRR!

SHIT, CRAP, IT’S YOUR PHONE! Scrambling around the bed for your bag, making it fall, trying to catch it and end in a miserable failure, you followed suit and plummeted to the floor. Hissing from the pain, you quickly pressed it aside and slammed your hand onto the vibrating mobile, sweeping it to your ear as your thumb slid the phone icon to the right, answering it. 

“Katsuki, finally! you answered your phone for O-” 

“U-uhhm...Y-y/n-sama?” 

You paused and looked at the phone. That wasn’t the low-toned, gruffed voice of your husband. It was your babysitter.

“Ah, I’m so sorry Uraraka” Your cheeks tinted a light pink from the embarrassment you made of yourself to your friend. She giggled over the phone. “It’s okay Y/n” You could feel her smile through the phone “But...are you okay?” She sounded worried now. “Is there something wrong with Bakugou?” This time, Tsuyu’s voice came through the phone, her small ribbit not going unnoticed.

Uraraka and Tsuyu were some of  the few who you were still in touch with and sometimes with bakugou. But through it all, They were the caretakers to your two 4 year old twin boys, Mistuki and Tatsumi. After the wedding and the honeymoon, you wanted to take things to the next level, there is when you’re two balls of lights blossomed into both your lives. While you and katsuki were too busy with hero work or your secret singing career away from the hero agency, they would come and take them for the day. They were two balls of sunshine and mischief and the girls loved them. They both looked like their father but Mistsuki had your sweet motherly and cinnamon roll innocence and the sharp fire of determination, along with the sheer wildness of their father. Tatsumi, was the replica of katsuki himself. He had everything thing equal, to his fire and wild, the ranting (and...katsuki, i-it’s just katsuki! that’ll all! you gave birth to a katsuki Jr), but he did have your sense in some manner. 

“Y/n? You never answered my question” Tsuyu ribbits into the call, snapping your thoughts back to the conversation. “Sorry Tsuyu. I thought it was him. He doesn’t read my texts or voice mails. He doesn’t pick up his phone in particular anymore!” You scoffed. There was a small silence after your little rage. “Guys?” You called out, you heard a slight of shuffling “Oh, right! You shouldn’t worry about it and all Y/n. Bakugou runs his own agency and with his position, it’s difficult for him to attend anything like a break. Business seems to catch him quicker before he can reach a single ounce of rest”

You silently nodded, twirling the sealed bond between your free hand as the small rope tickled your neck. That had to be the reason, you were sure of it. 

Sucking in a small breath and stood up, grabbing your keys and bag while you turned your phone on and tapped the screen so you could hear your friends on loud speaker. “well, I know that you two didn’t call to see me okay, so, want me to come pick up my babies to give you two some relief?” 

Uraraka giggles, this time your mind could visualise her sweet adorable smile she’s always had, her brown hues gleaming. 

“As always, you are straight to the point” Your lips twitched upwards, a small smile appearing. “Ribbit, actually we called to tell you that the band was approved to continue on.” 

You were silent, a smile crawling it’s way to your face and it stretched beyond the cheekbones. This was the greatest success you’ve ever gotten; everyone was waiting for the conformation of it. All your hard work and your amazing band and crew really paid it off. The girls knew about your side career because you told them, you trusted them. 

“This is great! I have to tell this to katsuki, he’s going to be thrilled!” You bolted from the bed and to the wardrobe. “I gotta go guys, I’ll pick up my babies after visiting kastuki. I’ll be there in 20 minutes, bye!” 

“wait Y/n, Don’t you thi-”

You cut them off by hanging up, putting the mobile on the desk you scavenged through the pile of neat hanged clothing until you spot it; the dress you wore on your honeymoon all those years ago. The dress was simple and casual but beautiful nonetheless, it showed every aspect of yourself and not a single wrinkle in sight! i looked completely new. Yes, you were going to be just you; no make up, no formal clothing, nothing professional or superficial. It’s just you as your born self: The girl katsuki bakugou had married. 

__________________________

Seems like I never compared

Wouldn’t Notice if I disappeared

You made it 5 minutes before Katsuki’s break. E/c hues beamed excitement and your body jumped with fresh bolts of motivation, your band, approved and ready for the big leagues! Katsuki was going to be real proud of you, you were positive and sure of it,of course. 

As you walked down the hallway, some people recognised you, the famous hero-wife of the one and only Ground Zero. Making your way through a small litter of crowds, you tapped a formally-dressed woman on her shoulder, making her turn. You gave her a sincere smile. 

“Sorry to bother you, do you know where i can find Katsuki Bakugou? I-” 

“OMG IT’S HER!!! SHE’S HERE!!! OMG OMG OMG!!” 

Your ears were ringing now, it hurt but you manage to keep a calm face. And since Curiosity just couldn’t poke you more, you turned around and a female was in front of you, squealing and red. She looked like she could explode. 

“H-hello there..” You moved your hand a little, a small gesture of a wave. Her eyes blew up like stars behind her glasses.

“GOD!, I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU ARE REALLY HERE! AMI IS GOING TO FLIP WHEN SHE FINALLY MEETS YOU!” 

‘Ami?, who is that?’, you asked yourself. You subconsciously tilt your head

“I...err..see. I guess you and Ami are new here?” The girl nodded freakishly fast, you were more worried about her neck snapping. 

“YES! BOSS IS SO INCREDIBLY LUCKY TO HAVE YOU AS HIS BEST RIGHT HANDED FRIEND AND SIDE KICK! He speaks so softly about you, it’s really rare to actually see him smile! Ami and I were pretty curious about who you were..” The girl seemed to drift off on the last past. 

Your brows furrowed at some of her words, ‘FRIEND!? I’m his wife. and SIDE KICK!? I know that i work with him but the only side kick that man is gonna get is the one from my foot!’, You were practically fuming in your mind. 

“Your very pretty though, miss!” Her words seemed to cut you out of it. You smiled a little “thanks...” You rubbed your shoulder. “By the way, what position does your friend Ami have?” Curiosity was clouding over you now. “Oh! Ami is Ground zero’s Strategic Assistant. They basically go everywhere together” 

‘They basically go everywhere together’

Your heart felt like it got crushed by an invisible amount of weight. 

“W-where...where are they now?” you sternly said, eyes clouded and the girl just mistook it as exhaustion. “Down the corridor and turn right. go down the hallway and it’s the large door at the end on your left” She smiled and points you in the direction to go. You scrambled to escape from the secretary and towards the directions she gave you. 

You stole, the love that I saved for myself

The more you carried on down the hallway as instructed, the more eerier it gets and you feel a shiver crawl up your arms, you rub them to create a friction of warmth. It’s too silent down here. 

Then you hear him. Her. Them.

When you make it to the large doors on your left, your hand reaches for the handle but a moan causes you to freeze your movements from opening it with brutal strength. 

“G-GROUND ZERO! AHN~! SO-AHHN!”

Her voice was loud, nobody would EVER call that a whisper. And to make it worse, she was crying in moans to his name. YOUR husbands name. Palm to your mouth, you stared at the coloured oak doors, frozen. Your body trembled lightly, feeling an absurd amount of weight plummeting on you; Truth was plummeting on you. 

Silence took over her cries whilst you stood outside, still shaken by the current events that are happening and are still winding in your head. Although you can’t hear anything much more. Is that room sound-proof or some-!

“Fuck!! Assistant” 

Ears perked up, that rather loud and clear moan. Your Husbands moan. Irises trembled along with your body, shock piling over each other within you. Your fingers felt cold as they trembled against the handle on the door, your tried your best to steady them as you opened the wood which stood in your way from the truth. Loud rumbles and shuffling occur as you allowed the door to freely open it’s way for you, Her scream of panic, His body trying to straighten itself. 

And I watched, you give it to somebody else

Her legs were tangled around his waist in a lock. Blood ruby eyes trail from the bare figure of the girl Ami. She’s laying on the desk, looking up at the door, to you. He’s over her, muscular arms that once cradled you are now to the sides of her head. The panic and shock in his eyes are visible. 

“Y-Y/n” 

He’s trying to find words for this event which unfolds before your eyes. Ami hides her face. Her face was obviously red from being caught, Getting FUCKED by your husband and your husband FUCKING her. 

“G-Ground Z-zero, I’m so sorry y-your si-side-kick had to s-see this! THIS IS EMBARRASSING” she squealed through her hands. 

But these scars, I no longer hide

Firstly, you didn’t know how to react. 

You knew something had changed, you felt it coming after he got the agency. But like a fool, you ignored it. You thought of it as something small and easy to fix...but nothing as far as this. face giving it’s all, you tried to express your anger to him, to shout our your fury to demonstrate the rage within you. 

It never happened...

Water splattered the ground beneath you. All that was visible were the tears, the depression and anger somewhat showing but the walls you built to sustain the flow of water was cracking and crumbling at the scene. 

Those lonely nights alone with him at work. 

His sudden change of mood, the built up frustration, annoyance and anger. The sudden distance between you both. It was all because of this. Because of her. 

Let’s just get this over with...

“I came here to tell you that the band was approved.” You looked down and rubbed your left arm. Your walls were coming down harder and you could feel your eyes sting from trying to hold back the water flow. However, his eyes glued to your crumbling frame. 

Then a small heartless laugh came out of your lips, “You know, it’s hilarious to think..” You began, gripping your bare arm, the feeling of your nails digging into your flesh was a punishment to yourself. “My career for being a hero with you all this time was to represent that I would always be there, just you and me together on the battle field and in each others arms, but my Singing..” You let out another laugh, it was cracked but all of this was too much for you “My singing and my songs were all inspired from you because you’ve been my inspiration, my motivation and my absolute everything...ever since the day we met” 

Couldn’t love me, if you tried

Because let’s face it...

“I was never good enough was I...”  beautiful E/c sea foamed hues washed away to a rainy grey, red stains of tears lining pathways down your cheeks.

You took in a breath but you never rubbed your face from the tears, you let them slip out. You were already over-flowing with all these emotions, why should you stop them now. Turning around you were about to leave the room, but you halt for a second. 

Katsuki had slipped out of his assistant and was arranging his clothes back on his body as quickly as he can, checking every now and then if you were still in his line of sight. you were leaving. He began to panic, the girl he just fucked erased from his mind. 

Am i still not, good enough? 

Am i still not, worth that much?

“Y/n!!” He yelled, even though you weren’t that far from each other. His arm was reach out, but your back was still in his face. It was only then your head began to turn itself. “You want to know what i’m most relieved about...?” you turned around, a smile gracing your lips.

Sorry for the smile i’m wearing now

“I’m glad Mitsuki and Tatsumi were never here to see this, their back-stabbing, unfaithful and disgusting ass hole..you truly are” Angry tears pouring from your eyes, you let them fall as you flicked the envelope you pulled from your bag into their air, soon falling flat to the ground where his shoes were. 

You were gone when he looked up. 

Bending down he gripped the envelope and trailed the neat cursive writing on the front, his name beautifully designed and full of love. He un-sealed it and opens the letter within. 

To my beloved, 

My love, my life, My Inspiration and the father to our two blessed sons, thank you for supporting me throughout the years and for taking me as your lover. You gave me a brighter world and all the drastic adventures ahead, thank you for loving me with everything you had. 

I’m grateful to whoever blessed me to be fate with you, you and our children are all I need now, the next and from the previous life. With our family together, all is okay and we are strong. You are my everything and that is all i need. 

I love you with every being of my self that i gave

Sincerely, 

Y/n. 

His body trembled erratically when he finished reading your letter, his hand resting on his eyes as he could feel the pain of tears about to flood him. 

“What the fuck have I done..” 

Guess I’m still...

No, wait

It was you that was never Good enough. 

[samsexualdeancurious]

Late Night Visit

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Words: 2,299

Summary: The reader gets an unexpected visit from her boyfriend and his brother.

Warnings: Hurt!Sam, brief description of injuries, this did not go the way I thought it would but I'm actually really happy with it.

Written for Susan for her November 2019 Angel request.

Betaed by @saxxxology

---

“I’m coming, keep your pants on,” you grumble as you hurry down the steps. “Who the hell bangs on someone’s door at midnight anyway?”

When you open the door, you get your answer.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, staring at the sight of your boyfriend being held up by his brother. “Sam!”

“He’s gonna be okay,” Dean assures you, more dragging than guiding Sam past you into the house. “I just need to patch him up and you were the closest.”

“In here.” You direct Dean to the kitchen, where he lowers Sam onto one of your dining chairs. You hover nervously close by, unsure of what to do. When Dean steps back and you see the blood on Sam’s shirt, your hands fly to your mouth. “Oh my god.”

“He’s gonna be okay,” Dean repeats, patting Sam’s cheek lightly to get him to perk up. “Right, Sammy? Gonna be just fine. Sit tight, okay? I gotta get the first aid kit from the car.”

“Right,” Sam mumbles, blinking sleepily around him until his eyes land on you. “Y/N?”

“Hey, baby,” you say, somehow managing to keep your voice calm as you drag another chair over to sit beside him. “Hi.”

He smiles, a little sleepy, and you don’t need medical experience to know he’s probably got a mild concussion. “There’s a nice view.”

Your cheeks warm at his words. Even injured and concussed, he’s still as charming as ever.

“Don’t worry,” he says,  patting your cheek with his cleaner hand. “Dean’s gonna take care of me.”

“Damn right I am,” Dean responds as he reenters the kitchen, bag in hand. He sets it on the table and begins pulling out supplies. “Hope you’re not too attached to this shirt, little brother, cos it’s gonna have to come off.”

“Need new ones anyway,” Sam says with a small shrug that makes him wince.

Dean quickly unbuttons Sam’s flannel and eases it off his shoulders, taking care to not jostle his left one too much.

“Oh,” you breathe when Sam’s injuries, previously hidden by the folds of his flannel and the dark splotch of blood, become clear to you - four distinct claw marks across his ribs and sternum.

“Just need stitches,” Dean assures you as he pulls out scissors and begins deftly cutting away Sam’s undershirt. “How’s the shoulder feeling?”

“It’s fine.” Sam rolls it a little and winces. “Sore.”

“Dislocated,” Dean explains. “Grab me a bowl of water? And we’re gonna need some towels.”

You jump into action, eager to have something to do. You get the bowl first, filling it with lukewarm water so. hopefully, the temperature isn’t too shocking for Sam, and then fetch some raggedy towels from the upstairs hall closet.

“Put a couple of towels on Sam’s lap,” Dean instructs, pulling a clean rag from his bag and dunking it in the water. “I don’t want to make a huge mess of your floor.”

You nod as you spread two towels, folded in half, over Sam's thighs and bunch them a little around his waist. As soon as they're in place, Dean begins squeezing water over the wounds. The water, colored a ruddy pink with Sam's blood, runs down his abs to begin staining the towel.

"Oh no," Sam says, blinking down at the sight. "That's gonna be ruined."

"It's okay," you assure him, reclaiming your sit by his side and taking his hand. "They're old towels anyways."

He nods and then winces, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Stop moving," Dean grumbles, now carefully picking any remaining debris out with tweezers and a surprisingly steady hand. Once he's satisfied, he cleans the edges with an alcohol wipe.

"Stings," Sam mumbles.

Dean ignores his brother as he sets the wipe aside and tears open a little sterile package to reveal a needle, already threaded with a fine black thread you recognize. Sam's come home to you many times with bandages covering carefully stitched wounds, perfect black lines that always heal beautifully. It's now that you realize who exactly stitched those wounds.

"Gonna be fine," Sam promises. "Dean's good at th's part."

"I know," you respond, meeting Dean's mildly stunned expression with a watery smile. "I've seen his handiwork before, remember?"

"Oh, yeah." You scoot your chair closer and Sam leans against you with a happy sound. "'S nice havin' you here - ow."

Dean shrugs, drawing the thread through and continuing his stitches. “Sorry. Gotta get a move on.”

“That hurt,” Sam whines.

“You’ll live.”

Dean works quickly, deft hands flying. You have to tear your eyes away, the sight of black thread pulling the edges of the wound together a little too much for you. You focus on keeping Sam’s focus, speaking softly to him and smiling at his slightly slurred responses. It feels like no time and yet too much time passes before Dean snips the final thread and sits back.

“Good as new,” he declares, wiping the wounds clean with the clean end of the damp rag and digging a roll of gauze from the bag. You catch a glimpse of the stitches before he covers them - neat little black lines, perfectly spaced - and something inside you relaxes. Dean knows what he’s doing. Sam’s going to be fine.

Dean tapes the gauze down and sits back. “How’s the head?” he asks, wiping his hands clean with a new rag.

“Hurts,” Sam replies.

“Yeah, probably does. Want some ice?”

Sam gives a tiny shake of his head, wincing as he does. “No. Just Tylenol and sleep.”

Dean’s already pulling a little red and white bottle from the bag. You jump up to grab a glass from the cupboard, filling it from the spout in the fridge door, and then help Sam take the two pills Dean shakes into your palm.

“Bedtime?” you suggest.

“Yes, please,” he answers, smiling up at you.

You press a kiss to his hair and then make a face. “Maybe a shower first?”

Sam hums. “That sounds nice.”

“We’ve got some waterproof bandages,” Dean offers, already digging through the bag for the items in question. “Lemme put these on real quick.”

Sam holds still while Dean applies the clear cover, carefully smoothing down the edges so no water will get in.

“There ya go.” Dean straightens up with a nod. “Need help getting to the shower?”

“Probably,” you admit.

Thankfully your house is single-story so there’s no need to try and navigate Sam up a set of stairs. Dean helps you get him down the hall to the bathroom. You had your shower built with a bench opposite the showerhead just because you like the convenience - not to mention how much easier it makes shower sex. You’re especially glad for it now, though, because Sam has somewhere to sit.

Dean steps back. “I’ll clean up the kitchen,” he says. “And then get a room for the night.”

You’re already shaking your head. “You don’t have to do that. The couch is a pullout. Sam, will you be okay for a minute while I show Dean the sheets and get an extra towel?”

“Yup,” Sam says, leaning back against the shower wall and toeing off his shoes.

You lead Dean to the hall closet to get him some bedding and one of the extra pillows from the top shelf. Once he’s on his way, carrying more than enough blankets to stay warm, you snag a clean towel and return to the bathroom.

Sam’s exactly where you left him, except now he’s naked. He’s kicked all his clothes - boxers, jeans, socks, and shoes - out of the shower. You pause to set his boots where they won’t get in the way and to dump everything else into the hamper for later before turning your attention to your boyfriend.

“Shower time,” you announce, pointing the showerhead straight down while the water warms up. You quickly shed your own clothes, dropping them in the hamper as well. By the time you’re naked, the water has reached an ideal temperature. You redirect the showerhead to spray at an angle across the stall. Sam hums when it reaches him, stretching his legs out.

“Feel good?” you ask, stepping under the water.

“Uh-huh.”

You get to work washing him, grateful for the detachable showerhead when you realize there’s no way you can hold him up and wash his hair. Sam’s more than content to just sit there, eyes closed as you clean him up. Then you dry him and guide him to the bedroom, where you fetch a pair of clean boxers from the dresser. Thankfully he’s bought things to leave at your place for when he spends the night.

Sam’s asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. You dress in your own pajamas and then stand there a moment, just looking at your sleeping lover, and that’s when the reality of the situation sets in.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, one hand coming up to cover your mouth as you take a step back.

You know what Sam does - you’ve known from the beginning. Your mother runs a shop that caters to hunters who know the right questions to ask. Despite that knowledge, tonight is the first night you’ve seen the aftermath of Sam’s job - the gory, gritty part that happens before Dean patches him up - and that knowledge is like a weight on your chest.

You decide to head down to the kitchen again, hoping a cup of tea will ease your racing mind and heart. When you pass through the living room, though, you’re surprised to find Dean sitting upright on the edge of the pullout bed. He’s cleaned up, changed into blue pajama pants and a loose grey t-shirt, and he looks exhausted in the light of the lamp in the corner.

“Dean,” you say softly, determined to be a good hostess even if you really want to cry - or throw up, you can’t decide which. “Is everything alright?”

He startles, head jerking up, and then relaxes. “Yeah,” he answers, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Everything’s fine. Why are you still up? Figured you’d be with Sam.”

You shrug, looking back toward the bedroom. “I’m just… I don’t know.”

“It never gets easier.”

Your head snaps around. “How’d you know…?”

“I know that look.” Dean pats the bed beside him. “Worn it myself more times than I could ever count.”

You tentatively sit. It feels a little weird, sitting on your pullout couch in your dimly lit living room with your boyfriend’s older brother, who you hardly know, but you’re coming to realize that Dean is the only person who, at this moment, might have even an inkling of what you’re feeling.

“Tonight…” Dean pauses, sighs, and then tries again. “Tonight was your first time seeing him like that, huh?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, staring down at your hands in your lap.

“My first time was when he was sixteen,” Dean continues. “It wasn’t even that bad - he got pushed down a flight of stairs by a ghost. Minor cuts and bruises but he broke his ankle and I had to carry him out of there. Thankfully, he didn’t reach giant status until a year later and I could still carry him.”

You can’t help a small smile at that.

“Dad was furious, of course.” Dean picks at a stray thread on the knee of his pants. “It’s my job, ya know? Looking out for my pain-in-the-ass little brother.”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I know.”

“It’s scary and that’s never going to change.” He looks over at you, green eyes soft. “Not as long as you love him and maybe even when you stop loving him.”

“I’m not planning on stopping any time soon.”

Dean smiles. “Figured that out the first time I saw you two together. Never thought Sam would find someone after Jess but you?” He nudges your arm with his elbow. “I like you. You’re good for him - someone normal, stable, who knows what he does and doesn’t try to stop him.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to,” you admit. “Especially after tonight.”

“Tonight was rough,” Dean agrees. “But we got through it, we’ll learn from it, we’ll do better next time. That’s how it is. I’m just glad Sam’s okay and that seeing all of this hasn’t changed your mind.”

You shake your head. “Not one bit. I do still want a cup of tea, though. Would you like one?”

“Nah. I’m not really a tea guy.”

“Suit yourself. See you in the morning, Dean.”

He gives a little wave as you resume your journey to the kitchen again.

You fill the kettle with water and let it boil, careful to catch it before it starts whistling and waking the whole neighborhood. Once your tea is ready, you sit at the bar and drink it, letting your thoughts settle before you head back to your room. Dean’s turned the light off and the living room is dark when you tip-toe past.

Sam is sleeping soundly, covers pulled up to his nose, and you smile at the sight of him - a little battered but safe and warm in your bed. You flick the light off and round the bed to crawl under the covers on your side. You’d planned to snuggle against his back but even sleeping Sam senses your presence and rolls to face you. You’re more than happy to worm your way into his arms, pressing your nose to the soft skin of his collarbone and inhaling what your brain will always recognize as Sam, no matter how long it’s been.

The gauze covering Sam’s wounds brushes against your arm, a stark reminder of just how bad tonight really could have gone, but you don’t allow yourself to linger on that thought. Sam’s here and that’s all that matters.

---

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—

Team Forever: @mrswhozeewhatsis @laughing-at-the-darkness​​ @tumbler-tidbits​​ @imsuperawkward​​​​ @emoryhemsworth

[chainsawwrites]

                                 TUTORIAL - BAKERY JOBS

Disclaimer: I work in one (1) bakery. Different bakeries are going to work differently, and things work differently in different countries. Also, tw for discussion of food, because that’s what bakeries make.

Going back to my ongoing series of things I know for some reason, today I’m gonna explain how things work in a commercial bakery. I happen to work in a bakery-- a real big supermarket bakery, not a little shop or anything fancy, but the basic process of “get bread made before customers show up” is probably about the same. 

If you want a fairly good idea of what a character might do if they work in a bakery, the whole thing is below the cut.

JOB REQUIREMENTS:

So I know anti-discrimination laws exist and technically my boss wouldn’t be able to not hire someone because of a disability, but broadly speaking it’s not a job for people with significant physical limitations. People who work in a bakery regularly carry around heavy things (think 50 pound sacks of flour), are on their feet for for their entire shift, spend a good deal of time working in the freezer/cooler and near ovens and proofing boxes, and operate heavy machinery.

However, because actual baking usually takes place out of sight and involving minimal interactions with customers (compared to, for example, a cashier), things like tattoos and fluency in the local language can slide. 

Prior experience is appreciated, but no real certificates or education is really needed. Some places might require a food handler’s license, but not everywhere. 

CONDITIONS AND PAY:

This is a job where you can be part of a union in many places, so you’d have someone who looks out for you and makes sure the latch to get out of the freezer from the inside isn’t broken and your boss is following labor laws. Unions might include regional grocery employee unions, the Bakery, Confectionery, Tobacco Workers and Grain Millers' International Union (US & Canada), and so on. Generally it’s a good idea to be part of the union. 

OSHA (Occupational Safety and Health Administration, USA) guidelines or the local equivalent are gonna apply, because it’s a setting with a lot of machinery as well as some pretty giant ovens. 

You shouldn’t work if you’re sick because you’re gonna be handling food, but y’all know the whole thing about hourly employees and paid time off. There are six illnesses that you cannot work if you have though: Norovirus, Nontyphoidal Salmonella, Salmonella Typhi, E. coli, Shigella, and Hepatitis A.

Pay tends to be pretty average for retail-- more than other positions in the store that don’t require as much training, but not very high. Minimum wage is going to vary by location. Labor laws concerning breaks are gonna apply, but vary by location.

LAYOUT:

Before we get too much further, I should really explain what's probably in the back and what it’s used for. A bakery is definitely going to have a good amount of space that’s inaccessible to customers where the bread is made-- think like the size of a high school classroom for the working area, plus other spaces in different areas. I’m gonna describe how the one I work at specifically is set up, starting up front with the customers and working back from there.

Displays: Where the bread is on the sales floor. This would be the entire shop for a small bakery, but for a supermarket it’s a corner of the sales floor that’s visible from the bakery counter + a few other scattered places. This is maintained by the bakery employees, not the grocery employees. You’ve all seen this.

Bakery counter: This is the around chest height wall (usually with a display in the front) that keeps the bakery area separated from the rest of the shop. Customers don’t come back here for any reason. Store management might, but they don’t often. There’s a maybe prep counter on the employee side of it, where bread and donuts and all that are packaged.This is a food safe surface, so you gotta wear gloves if you’re touching it and you gotta hide your energy drink on the shelves under it.

Cake decoration counter: This is where all the cake stuff is done. It’s got a small (by bakery standards, more like the big brother to your kitchenaid at home) mixer, all the various icing implements, and a counter. 

Floor space where all the racks go: Granted that’s pretty much everywhere there is free space, but there are a lot of probably 6′ tall, 3′ wide racks that all the trays of baked stuff go on. They’ve got wheels, they can go into the coolers, proofing box, and ovens, and they always seem kinda like they’re gonna tip which would be a disaster if they did. These usually end up between the oven and the bakery counter.

Oven: We’ve got one (1), but it’s like the size of a small walk in closet. One of the big boi racks described above goes in, the giant door gets shut, and the temperature, steam duration (this is for bread), and time gets set. You pretty much have to stand inside this to get things out of it, which kind of sucks during the summer but it’s only for a minute. 

Proofing box: So you know how bread has to rise? That’s also called proofing. You might have seen proofing drawers on the Great British Bake Off, and this is just about the same concept except it fits five of the big racks in it. It’s a really humid, warm box and it sucks to go near in the summer. It has to be cleaned every so often (which can only be done by standing inside it) and I feel bad for the person who does that, but that person isn’t me.

Dough roller: This is a machine that’s probably about 5′ tall, 5′ wide, and 3′ long. You put sectioned dough in it and it turns it into a cylinder of the right size and all to be a loaf. That’s how come I can make pretty bread at work and not at home. Ours is bigger than this but here’s the concept. 

Tables: You do prep stuff. Big tables. They’ve got storage underneath them.

Microwave: Yes, we have one. Mostly used for making glaze liquid so that we can dunk donuts in it. There is stuff that comes into the bakery as frozen raw dough and gets baked in the bakery, not gonna lie, but nothing gets cooked in the microwave. It’s bigger than yours at home, but it’s not massive. More like the uncanny valley of sizes where you don’t initially realise it’s big. 

Small freezer: This is probably the size of a large walk in closet. It’s mostly cake decorating stuff in here, but it’s in the same actual room as all the bakery stuff.

Cooler: Probably could fit about ten racks? Fresh ingredients (olive, cheese, jalapeños, strawberries, etc) get stored in here, and big racks of bread stuff goes in here to rise overnight before being cooked the next morning.

Bread sectioner: You put a big hunk of dough in here (like 30 pounds big) and it turns it into sections that can go in the aforementioned bread roller. Has lots of big knifes basically. 

Roll maker: This boy. Takes a big sheet of bread dough and makes it into rolls.

Mixers: We’ve got two really big mixers, one that you could probably blend a small child in and one that you could probably blend three or four small children in. The smaller one is used to make batches of icing and the big one is used to make batches of bread-- easily makes 90 pound batches of bread at once. 

Freezer: This is our main freezer, it’s in a different room and is probably the size of the average doctors office waiting room. Mostly it has boxes of things that come in raw frozen and get baked in store-- bagels, some pastries, donuts, etc.

JOBS:

Obviously this varies a lot by location, but because of specific training people do different things. There’s probably 7-10 people who work in the bakery I work at, so there’s not tonnes of staff but there are usually multiple people around.

Manager: In charge, but still has to answer to the store director or whoever. Generally knows how everything works and could do any job, deals with ordering inventory, and generally makes sure everyone’s doing what they should. 

Baker: This is the person who is actually making all the bread. They have to get in hella early (think like 3 am for a 6 am store opening time), so their work day usually only overlaps with everyone else’s by a couple hours. They’d be working unsupervised for the most part.

Cake decorator: They make all the cakes pretty. They do not actually bake the cakes, but they do make all the frosting and so on. There’s essentially a book of company standard designs depending on holidays, graduation season, etc., but they do all the customers’ custom orders too.

Clerk: These are the minions who stock all the displays, make sure everything looks neat, package the bread, and do everything the manager tells them to. 

Generally a given day will have one manager, one baker (may actually be the manager, morning only), one cake decorator, and two ish clerks working.

TASKS:

This is a run through of what happens in the store on a daily basis, though of course everywhere’s going to be different.

3 AM-- Baker arrives and does an inventory of what needs to be made. Starts moving bagels, bread, and so on from the cooler to the proof box and then the oven.

4 AM-- Baker starts on donuts. Donuts have to be put on baking trays, put in the proof box for a certain amount of time, baked in the oven for a certain amount of time, and then fried in the donut frier.

5 AM-- Baker starts on types of bread that are not made in house (sourdough, rye, basically everything but French bread). This dough comes in frozen and is let to thaw and rise in the proof box, then is baked.

6 AM-- Store opens. Clerks arrive and start by checking all the displays for food that’s at its sell by date. This food (usually about two shopping carts worth) is taken out to the compost (I know, it hurts my soul too, it’s corporate policy but I’m trying to look at how it can be donated). Clerks then move onto packaging and putting out donuts. 

7 AM-- Baker is probably making pastries (all the types of danish, turnovers, etc). Clerks are probably packaging bagels and bread, then move onto everything else. 6 AM to 9 AM is probably the busiest time for the clerks, but it’s when things are starting to wind down for the baker.

8 AM-- Cake decorator arrives, checks for special orders, and does their inventory of what they need to make. They follow this inventory for the rest of the day. Baker is doing bagels-- dough comes in frozen and is thawed, given toppings, and then left to rise overnight. Clerks are packaging whatever’s on the trays at this point, pretty much by order of whatever they grab.

9 AM-- Baker makes the dough for tomorrow’s French bread, puts it through the various bread machines, and then puts it in the cooler to rise overnight.

10 AM-- Baker goes home. 

11 AM - 12 PM-- During this time, clerks and cake decorators will take lunch breaks.

2 PM-- Clerks go home.

4 - 5 PM-- Cake decorator goes home. 

10 PM-- Store closes.