#how he couldn't care less if i died. how he'd tell me to kill myself just for fun. just because he can

[dumb-fictionkin-sideblog]

I miss him i miss him i miss him i miss him... i miss him so so much i miss him i miss him miss him miss him miss him i miss him. God i miss him so much i miss him so much it physically hurts i miss him !! I miss him i miss him. I miss him

[thinkanamelater]

Masks Down (Neverwhere & The Graveyard Book crossover)

After leaving the Graveyard, Silas meets an old... friend?

Silas/Marquis de Carabas

CW: Blood drinking

Also on AO3!

With a (metaphorical) heavy heart, Silas left the graveyard and embarked on a long journey. He had his briefcase and steam trunk as all luggage, and he put foot in front of foot, taking on a path that only he could see.

Such path, he realized after hours or perhaps days, took him to London Below.

Beautiful, dangerous London Below. One had to keep both eyes (or as many as one had) wide open. It was a deceiving place, with treacherous people.

And speaking of… Silas felt a tingle down his spine, moments before he heard the voice speak.

“My, what have we here!”

It was smooth, sarcastic, slightly raspier than Silas remembered.

“Don't try me, mist-walker” He let out in a low whisper, looking over his shoulder.

The Marquis de Carabas came into his field of vision, with his signature ironic grin.

“I'm not - ugh” He rolled his eyes theatrically “Nevermind. There's no reasoning with you. Or is there, Silas?”

Silas took a quick step closer.

“Don't say my name out loud” He hissed. He didn't think there was anyone listening, but you couldn't be too careful, not here, on the Underside.

The Marquis raised his palms in surrender, but his grin remained the same. After all, he had wanted Silas to come closer.

His eyes danced with glee as Silas stared into them, and then down into his tempting lips, stopping there for a heartbeat. The Marquis leaned slightly forward, but Silas' gaze had already wandered further down.

The cold eyes narrowed when he noticed the pale scar across the Marquis neck.

“You've been wounded” It wasn't a question.

It also wasn't the type of attention the Marquis wanted from him, but it was attention, and he'd make sure to milk it for what it was worth.

“Killed, even” His tone started playful, and soon died down, as he noticed Silas was not pleased.

“Who did it?” Silas' voice remained perfectly neutral. Except, the Marquis knew him, could recognize the rage burning behind. “Was it the Shepherds? I didn't know…”

The Marquis raised an eyebrow.

“Wait, and how do you know about the Shepherds?”

Another thing that the Marquis could read was the slight twitch in Silas' facial muscles. In the face of someone who did not smile, it was the equivalent of a smug grin. The Marquis hated it. 

“You don't mean…” Impassible, Silas continued walking, and the Marquis hurried after him. “No! Peregrine? Ugh”

There was no reply.

*****

A long silence later, Silas spoke again. His voice was the quiet murmur of dry leaves.

“You're following”

“No, I just so happen to be heading in the same direction you're taking”

“Is that so? There may be more Honor Guards in this direction, and not all of them are as tolerant with your tricks as myself, you know that”

“Maybe a less tolerant guard would have put their hands on me already.” The Marquis grumbled.

“What was that?”

There was only the hint of a laugh on Silas' voice. It was enough to make the Marquis huff. He walked slightly ahead of Silas, holding himself with the arrogance of the man who just so happens to walk the same way as someone who isn't paying them the correct attention.

*****

"We've been walking for almost a day" 

After almost a day, or maybe significantly less time, the Marquis exclaimed in a tone that would qualify as a whine. Except that he'd never accept it, and therefore, it wasn't a whine.

"Why don't we stop for a few minutes?"

Silas maintained his pace, and looked his way. Around him, the Marquis would let his mask slip a little, Silas noticed. Or maybe, he put up on a different mask. Even now, it was hard to tell.

"I thought you weren't walking with me" Silas spoke after this brief consideration. This elicited another not whine from the man. "You're free to take all the rest that you need"

“I know, from previous experiences, that I fit in your trunk” The Marquis winked an eye. Silas didn't take the bait.

“I'm not carrying you, de Carabas”

“Hmm, and if I pay my fare?” The Marquis tilted his head to the side, exposed his neck to Silas with a grin.

This made Silas stop, and the Marquis' grin grew bigger.

There was a flash of movement and the Marquis was suddenly enveloped in a cold, deep darkness. He shivered when freezing lips approached his skin, and held his breath… A breath he exhaled shakily, when Silas pressed a kiss to his neck and pulled back.

He let out a questioning hum, curiously high-pitched.

“Your throat has been highly damaged, I'm not going to cause more harm” Silas' voice was almost warm. He could let his mask slip, too. Just for a moment.

Before the Marquis could lie he was okay, Silas grabbed his arm and pulled up his sleeve.

“If you stain my coat-!” The Marquis screeched, just to say something. He didn't like being taken by surprise.

“You'll have my head, I know, and not in the fun way”

Silas cut him off, and gave another cold kiss to the Marquis' wrist. This time it was followed by sharp fangs tearing the skin.

It wasn't as intense as getting his neck bitten, but the blood rushed all the same, and the Marquis rolled back his eyes, sighing and shaking.

"Silas… I missed you…" He muttered. His head was spinning.

Silas shushed him and held him to his chest.

"I missed you too, Marquis" He replied only when he was sure the other was unconscious.

Then he slung him over his shoulder, opened his trunk, and carefully put the Marquis down. Once the Marquis was positioned as comfortably as possible, Silas leaned down, pushed the hair out of his face, and carried on with his journey.

[itsbenedict]

I just finished hosting a 15-person game of Mafia for some friends. One tradition we have for these games is that every death is accompanied by some themed narration, so for my game I opted to spice it up with some art on top. Had to draw it real quick since I didn't know for sure who was going to die next until it happened.

The game's theme was "JoJo's Bizarre Adventure", with the hidden subtheme that all the roles (stands) were named after They Might Be Giants (@tmbgareok) songs! A list of their powers, links to songs, and a recap of the game under the cut.

01) Mogis - 「Flo Wheeler」

02) TD260 - 「Working Undercover For The Man」

03) JGH27 - 「Good To Be Alive」

04) Raya - 「Stone Cold Coup D'Etat」

05) KK / Sahrimnir - 「Thinking Machine」

06) Spontaneous Combustion - 「The Statue Got Me High」

07) Leviwulf - 「Push Back The Hands」

08) DarkFalco - 「I Am Alone」

09) Deli064 - 「Doctor Worm」

10) Fedaykin - 「Letterbox」

11) Surge - 「I Am Alone」

12) Wikxen - 「Put Your Hand Inside The Puppet Head」

13) Minby - 「Where Your Eyes Don't Go」

14) Bel - 「(She Was A) Hotel Detective」

15) SnakeInABox - 「By The Time You Get This」

Bold roles were Jotunheim (Mafia), normal roles were Johnsburg (Town), and italicized roles were third parties. (Jotunheim is the realm of giants from Norse mythology! The mafia were, in fact, giants! And the town's job was to figure out who might be giants! And the two sides were Jo and Jo! JOKES!)

「Flo Wheeler」 was a town role with a power that was pretty dangerous to the user- if anyone happened to be watching or tracking when a kill took place at night, Mogis would look like they'd visited the target that night in addition to whoever actually did. It could potentially be used to catch a mafioso in a lie, but otherwise it was more of an obstacle for the town to overcome- a miller-type role.

♪ You can't do the time, therefore you didn't do the crime ♪

「Working Undercover For The Man」 was a third-party role working for the Speedwagon Foundation to perform a threat assessment. TD could win with the town, but could win and leave early if he could guess all the names or powers of every other stand in the game. He could scan a name every night, to help that along.

♪ Planning midnight raids / On our unsuspecting fans / While the roadies rig / The video surveillance van ♪

「Good To Be Alive」 was a spin on the usual town doctor role- normally, a doctor can target a player and prevent their death if they would die that night. But... JGH couldn't actually prevent deaths- just fake it. The dead would become ghosts, who couldn't vote and couldn't be killed but were still allowed to talk as if they were alive.

♪ Hello leg / such a shaky leg / Just barely more than decoration ♪

「Stone Cold Coup D'Etat」 was a third party with an unusual win condition. They had to recruit a certain number of people to a private side-chat- and then make sure all those people got killed. Plus, she could redirect anything that happened to her at night to her recruits. If the recruits figured out what she was doing and got rid of her, they'd get a boost to their power.

♪ The bark now commands the trees / The queen is overruled by the bees ♪

「Thinking Machine」 was a town role with a mysterious purpose that didn't seem to make much sense at first. Sah would get, every morning, a strange series of numbers and letters of uncertain origin. It was information, somehow, but how to use it?

♪ Tape has brightening arm connect (Wait, that didn't make sense.) / Self-paint lever itching does! (That made even less sense!) ♪

「The Statue Got Me High」 was a mafia power. As the song describes, the victim is enthralled by the monolith and forced to obey its commands, until their eventual death. That is, Spont could recruit a player to the mafia, but they'd die one night later- and if he wasn't careful, he could die and his recruit would flip back.

♪ And now it is your turn (your turn to hear the stone and then your turn to burn) / The stone, it calls to you (you can't refuse to do the things it tells you to) ♪

「Push Back The Hands」 was a passive ability that caused anything that would happen to Levi- a nightkill, an execution, some other power- to be delayed by one day, giving him some time to react. He'd be told who it was that targeted him, so going after him as mafia was risky.

♪ Screeching tires but never a collision / Endless day without a sunset provision ♪

「I Am Alone」 was a weird one. See, DarkFalco, who was mafia, didn't have a stand as such. She was the stand- and she was the stand of Surge, who was town. They were linked together in everything, meaning the mafia had to work to keep Surge alive on top of their own people. She could send messages to Surge at night to mess with him, though.

♪ Before you fire I should inform you / One of us is a double ♪

「Doctor Worm」 had no real special abilities. His ability was to be pretty good at playing the drums, a power that had absolutely no relevance in a game of Mafia.

♪ I'm not a real doctor, but I am a real worm I am an actual worm ♪

「Letterbox」 was a mafia ability that let Fedaykin pick another player, and offer that player a chance to deliver a private message to one other player of their choice. He could see the "secret" communications, though, and once per game he could edit the message before delivering it.

♪ I'll never know what you'll find when you open up your letter box tomorrow ♪

「Put Your Hand Inside The Puppet Head」 is a classically mafia ability, but in the hands of a town player: the ability to force another player to vote for another. Normally the manipulated person isn't allowed to say what happened, but there was no such restriction here- confusion's no good for the town.

♪ Memo to myself: do the dumb things i gotta do: Touch the puppet head ♪

「Where Your Eyes Don't Go」 let Minby pick someone else to watch him at night. If anyone visited him to target him with an ability, the person he designated would be told the names of those people. A nasty trap for the mafia, as long as Minby doesn't pick a mafioso to share the information with.

♪ Where your eyes don't go, a part of you is hovering / It's a nightmare that you'll never be discovering / You're free to come and go / Or talk like Kurtis Blow / But there's a pair of eyes in back of your head ♪

「(She Was A) Hotel Detective」 was a very powerful town role- Bel was the cop, and could scan another player's alignment at night, plus track or watch them. Except... not directly. She couldn't scan players- she could scan hotel rooms, and if other players didn't check into the hotel at night or give up their room numbers, her information was useless.

Here are the room numbers, in order: Levi (1) Snake (2) JGH (3) TD (4) Spont (5) Sah (6) Deli (7) Fed (8) Minby (9) Falco/Surge (10) Raya (11) Wikxen (12) Mogis (13).

(Oh, and Thinking Machine's codes were actually encoded versions of her results, and Sah would get a weaker version of her power if she ever died.)

♪ She's got her ear to the walls / And she's tappin' the calls / If you've got a secret, boy / Forget about it! ♪

「By The Time You Get This」 imbued its wielder with the incredible powers of... an estate lawyer! Which meant Snake could leave a will behind when he died, naming another player and casting a vote on them from beyond the grave the next day.

♪ By the time you get this note / We'll no longer be alive / But our skulls are smiling still / At the thought of things to come ♪

So! Here's how it all shook out.

Day 1: The first day is always kind of a tossup, since no one has any information yet, and everyone's just trying to verbally stir the pot. Levi soft-claims his role right out the gate, warning town not to try targeting him or else. Mogis is executed, casting a vote on himself to save the town the trouble of dealing with Flo Wheeler.

Night 1: Spont uses the statue to recruit Wikxen, at the same time that Wikxen forces Snake to vote for Levi. So, now the usually-scum power in the hands of town is in the hands of scum for real. Bel scans room 3, and learns that its occupant is innocent. Raya recruits DarkFalco, and accidentally recruits Surge alongside her, to her surprise. JGH tries protecting Levi, to test if his claim was a bluff.

Day 2: Levi tries to push JGH on the basis of having targeted him last night, but everyone agrees to wait and see if Levi actually dies first. Votes circle around Wikxen and Raya for suspicious-seeming defensiveness on Day 1, and ultimately, when it seems like Wikxen's about to be executed, a small group of players flip their votes at the last minute and vote Raya out while she's asleep and can't defend herself. Rude! She was poised to win the game for herself and the town, since she'd convinced Falco that the mafia would benefit somehow if they were all recruited.

Night 2: The mafia kills Minby- and Minby opts to tell have Fed watch him, wasting his power. Lucky for town, though, Bel happens to scan room 8, confirming Fed is mafia since he volunteered his room number. Wikxen's coat contains a furnace where there used to be a guy.

Day 3: Wikxen forced Snake to vote for J, making him look bad- but Sah begins sharing his bizarre results from Thinking Machine, and Bel confirms that they're a log of her detective power. Then she points out that Fed is mafia, and the town falls in line behind the accusation with Sah to confirm.

Night 3: Spont uses the statue to recruit Bel, to keep any more problematic scans from ruining them. Bel, before being recruited, scans room 10, though- and now the town knows there's something funky with Falco and Surge, because Sah gets the results and knows what they mean. Due to their mismatched alignments, though, the encoded version is still misleading, so there's wiggle room. TD scans Spont and learns his role name.

Day 4: Spont concocts a daring scheme. He has Bel lie and claim to have received an incriminating result on him- so that Bel will be caught in said lie when Sah produces his own results. The plan is to frame Bel, who's a dead girl walking anyway, and clear Spont's name going forward. But the town talks themselves into explaining away the contradiction- even when TD reveals Spont's stand name, and Spont denies it outright and claims 「Combustible Head」, a fake vigilante (town nightkiller) role instead, the town explains away that, too. After a few more people claim, TD260 has completed his mission- his correct guess wins him the game and he leaves. Spont cleverly excuses himself by claiming that TD lied about his role to get him to claim his "real" one. Afterwards, the town ends up executing Deli064 instead, for some reason- poor Doctor Worm!

Night 4: The evidence vanishes from Bel's charred and smoking chair- because JGH tries to protect her at the same time the mafia are killing him! Bel is a ghost now, and the town never finds out her alignment.

Day 5: Bel not dying poses a problem for the mafia, because Spont was supposed to prove his own innocence by pretending to kill her! The mafia tries to misdirect by having Bel lie again, claiming to scan room 10 when she actually scanned room 6, Sah. Ultimately, though, the town is able to coordinate behind killing Surge and Falco, which- because they're linked- is a compromise option that both parties are happy with (when perhaps they shouldn't be).

Night 5: Since Bel is technically dead, Spont recruits again, grabbing Sah and removing the threat of scans entirely. If he'd recruited Snake instead, they'd have won on the spot, since only his will-vote prevented them from winning instantly due to outnumbering the town. We move on to a somewhat redundant...

Day 6: It's now down to five players- Spont, Sah, and Bel vs Levi and Snake. The mafia technically outnumber the town, but Bel's vote doesn't count, and Sah's going to burn the next night- so the town can still win by forcing a tie and then using Snake's By The Time You Get This power to place a vote on Spont. But that's if they can figure it out and get on the same page, and... they don't. There's no way there could be three mafia still alive, so the mafia are able to sow total confusion and ultimately get the town all voting for Bel... who's a ghost, and can't vote or be executed, which the town doesn't know because JGH died before he could fully explain. The execution defaults to Snake, and the mafia win the game.

[thewidowsghost]

Stay Strong, Alex - Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

"Detective (L/n)," Rick sneers. "And they say there's never a cop around when you need one."

"So you know me?" (Y/n) asks, her voice soft.

"Of course," Rick answers. "I took a whole year planning this. Watching Alex, preparing," (Y/n) folds her hands together and she can hear Kara pacing behind her near the door. "I know everything."

"How did you know I was Supergirl?" Kara snarks.

"That day at the beach," Rick replies. "Before you started wearing glasses." He pauses. "I had no idea that Alex would end up playing for the other team, so to speak." (Y/n) swallows thickly. "I was just happy she showed up on the date. And then there was a crash. And Alex's kid sister walked away without a scratch," Rick says calmly, looking up at Kara, who standing over (Y/n)'s shoulder. "People at school said it was adrenaline, but, uh . . ."

"But you didn't believe that," (Y/n) finishes, her head tilting a little.

Rick nods, "I saw Kara Danvers do something amazing. And it stayed with me. I knew Kara was living in National City, and then Supergirl showed up in National City . . ." Rick chuckles. "I put two and two together. I knew it was you."

"What happened to you?" Kara asks softly. "I remember when Alex had chickenpox, I was eating lunch by myself," Kara's voice sounds a little wistful as she remembers the Earth portion of her childhood. "You came and sat with me."

Rick chuckles again. "I was fourteen," as Rick begins, (Y/n) rises from her chair to lean against the table. "And I didn't have the nice house or the perfect family that you and your sister had."

"You think we had it easy?" Kara asks skeptically. "You have no idea what Alex sacrificed for me. Or what I was going through!"

"Why?" Rick sneers. "Because you had to hide your superpowers? I was hiding bruises!" Rick is yelling now and (Y/n) had taken half a step backward. "Do you have any idea what it's like to have your mother tell you your garbage every single night?" The blonde man makes eye contact with (Y/n) and the young woman crosses her arms. "A belt whenever you had the wrong opinion? And then I found a lifeline. A father my mom kept from me. And he saved me from her and he moved me away from Midvale. And even though he was always struggling, he always made sure there was food on the table and he got me enough money to go to college. And then three years ago, the state took him from me."

"Your father killed two people," (Y/n) says, her voice low. "He confessed."

"They had it coming," Rick growls and (Y/n) straightens, her arms still folded over her chest. "And now I'm going to rescue him like he rescued me." Rick pauses. "I can't believe we're still talking about me! You have twenty-four hours and eleven minutes." Kara stiffens as Rick continues, "Come on, Kara, show us some of that rah-rah Midvale Junior High Spirit." Rick is yelling now. "Free my dad! Or your sister dies."

Kara growls, zooms over, flips the table, and pins Rick to the wall.

"Oh, you use half this much gusto in springing my dad, you'll have your sister back for game night."

"Kara! We're done here!" (Y/n)'s voice cracks.

Kara lets go of Rick and the man drops to the ground. "Hey. You know what'll be fun?" Rick asks. (Y/n) frowns, an eyebrow raising as she steps back from the man. "Finding out which one of you loves her more." (Y/n) closes her eyes momentarily, a wave of anguish washing over her. "Honestly, I wouldn't know where to place my bet," Rick sneers and (Y/n) swallows thickly.

Kara frowns at the man and after a minute, the two women go to leave the room, (Y/n) pausing for a second.

"Go Stallions," Rick grins.

Just outside the room, Kara speaks, "I'm giving him one minute, then I'm going back in there."

"No," (Y/n) says and Kara turns to look at her, Kara's eyes blazing.

"Why?" Kara snaps.

"Let him sweat it for a while," (Y/n) tells her, her voice softer than usual as she talks to her girlfriend's sister. "We got what we wanted."

"What?" Kara asks. "All we know is how he knows my identity."

"We know that Rick's pinned his whole sense of self-worth on Peter Thompson," (Y/n) explains, her voice still soft. "Thompson is the key to getting Alex back."

Kara's blazing eyes seem to extinguish as she considers (Y/n)'s words.

. . .

An hour or so later, (Y/n) and Peter Thompson walk into Rick's integration room.

(Y/n) closes the door behind Thompson.

Rick grins down at the table, before standing up after a moment.

"Ricky," Thompson says with a smile.

"Dad," Rick says, and the two embrace.

"All that time in prison, I imagined a day when . . . I could talk to you without a pane of glass between us."

"The DEO moved heaven and Earth to free this man," (Y/n) says. "We did what you wanted. Now, tell us where Alex is."

"No. No, not until my father and I are far from here," Rick says.

"You think we're stupid?" (Y/n) asks. "I showed you mine. Your turn."

"So you can toss us in Gitmo?" Thompson asks. "Not gonna happen."

(Y/n) shakes her head in disbelief.

"Maybe he gives you a piece. A little token of goodwill," Thompson adds. "You gotta give them something, Ricky. That's how it works. Just tell them where she is." Thompson narrows his eyes at his son.

"Well, you really nailed his essence, I'll give you that," Rick says.

"What?" (Y/n) asks, stepping forward, her arms crossing.

"I mean, that thing . . ." Rick says, studying his father's face. "He couldn't decide whether to hug me or not. That's vintage Dad." Rick sits back down in his metal chair.

"What are you talking about?" Thompson asks, walking up to stand beside the table.

"My father would never be playing these games. He'd be wanting to get the hell away from here and making sure that he never went back to prison," Rick's expression is one of anger. "I've been planning this for a year. Do you really think I didn't prepare for you," Rick pauses, looking up at Thompson, "Martian?"

Thompson walks over to (Y/n) and shifts back into himself.

"You're down to twenty-three hours and fourteen minutes," Rick says as he gazes at (Y/n) and J'oon. "And counting."

(Y/n) closes her eyes, pressing her index finger and thumb to the bridge of her nose.

. . .

Winn runs down the hall. "Guys! We found Alex. I found her."

Kara - who is standing with Mon-el - turns to face Winn. "You did?" Kara asks frantically.

"We got a ping from her subdermal tracker," Winn explains. "She's not far!"

. . . 

Back in the interrogation room, (Y/n) is sitting across from Rick, her hands folded and resting on the table in front of her.

"(Y/n)," Kara says, opening the door to the room. "Winn found Alex."

"What? How?" (Y/n) asks quickly, rising from her chair to look at Kara.

"I guess you underestimated my sister," Kara says, looking past (Y/n) to look at Rick. "Let's go."

But (Y/n) pauses, turning to look at Rick. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"You're delusional," Kara sneers. "And the second we get back here with Alex, you're going to prison with your dad."

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Rick says with a shrug, and fear surges through (Y/n)'s heart.

Kara strides out of the room and (Y/n) meets Rick's eyes, holding the stare for a moment.

(Y/n) runs out of the room. "Watch him," (Y/n) tells the guard as she runs past him after Kara. "Hey, stop," (Y/n) tells Kara. "Malverne still thinks he's in control," (Y/n) tells her.

Kara turns, looking highly annoyed with (Y/n) at this point.

"He's not acting like someone who just lost," (Y/n) continues. "He didn't even flinch. It's like he expected this."

"No, no, no, we are not listening to that psycho," Kara says, walking closer to (Y/n). "Every minute we wait for matters."

"I - I want to get her as badly as you do," (Y/n) retorts, "but we can't punch our way out of this. We've got to get this right."

"If the shoe were on the other foot, Alex would already be out the door. I'm not waiting," Kara argues.

"You're not the only one who cares about her!" (Y/n) says, her voice rising.

"I'm going!" Kara yells over her shoulder as she strides out of the DEO.

(Y/n) swallows thickly and looks at the ground.

. . .

Kara flies across the city and lands in a warehouse, crashing through the roof.  

"Kara!" comes a faint voice.

"Alex!" Kara yells in reply.

"I'm down here!"

Kara runs over to a metal plate on the floor and bends the metal, puling up the plate. Throwing the plate aside, Kara freezes, reading the writing on the wall: 'NOW YOU HAVE FOUR.'

"Four?" Kara asks. "What . . ." There is a rapid beeping and the timer next to the computer screen flashes to four hours.

. . .

In Alex's cell, water begins rushing into the cement cage. Alex, panicking, grabs her jacket to try to plug the pipe.

. . .

"Oh, my God," Kara whispers, her voice full of fury.

. . . 

Kara walks back into the DEOs' headquarters, holding the laptop in one hand. 

Entering Rick's room again, Kara sets the laptop on the table. 

"Where is she?" Kara asks, her voice steely. 

"I told you not to go . . ." Rick says calmly. 

"Tell me where she is now!" Kara thunders, slamming her hands down on the table. 

"I gave you thirty-six hours to break my father out of prison," Rick replies. "But you didn't listen. So now, that room is gonna fill up with water in less than four hours. I think it's time you got moving."

Kara's lip quivers. "Let me talk to Alex."

Rick leans forward and presses a few of the keys and there is a beep. 

Kara turns the laptop around and leans down to talk to her sister through the computer. 

"Alex," Kara says, her voice quavering. 

"Kara! I sent out a signal, I thought you were coming," Alex says, the water up to her waist now. 

"He re-routed the IP address. He sent us somewhere else. Do you have any idea where you are?" 

"I was unconscious. I could be hours away or I could be in the city," Alex replies, a frown spreading across her face. "I don't know."

Rick leans forward. "Alex, it's Rick. It don't want to hurt you. I keep on telling your sister that. Tell her to get my father, and this can all be over. You can come home and get dry."

"No. Kara, no," Alex says, pointing at the camera. "You do not give that terrorist what he wants. You cannot let yourself be blackmailed. You cannot open yourself up to that, ever. Do you understand me? Supergirl is better than me."

(Y/n) enters the room and, seeing Alex on the screen, runs over. "Alex!"

"(Y/n)?" Alex asks. 

"I'm right here," (Y/n) replies. 

"(Y/n), I need to speak to you alone," Alex says, and (Y/n) grabs the laptop and walks out of the room. 

(Y/n) stands down one of the hallways. "Hun, everyone here is working hard and we're going to find you." 

"The water is rising fast and there are things that I need to say," Alex says, her voice cracking a little. 

"No," (Y/n) says, tears welling up in her eyes. "Don't start talking like this is the end."

"I don't want it to be, but in case that it is . . ." Alex says, pausing for a moment. 

"It's not," (Y/n) whispers. "It can't be. You're a badass, Alex. And if anyone could figure out a way to get themself out of there, it's you. You're gonna hold on until I find you," (Y/n)'s voice cracks, and a tear slides down her cheek. 

"(Y/n), listen to me, please," Alex tries to get out.

"No," (Y/n) argues desperately. "We just had our first Valentine's Day and I want to do more with you. I want more firsts. I want a first vacation. We haven't even argued about where we're gonna go yet, and it's bound to happen. Or what to name our first dog. Do you want to get a dog?" 

(Y/n) lets out a watery laugh. "See, there's a lifetime of firsts that we're going to do together. So," (Y/n)'s voice quavers, "you hold on, okay? Hold on until I get to you. You promise. Promise me!" 

"Yeah, um . . ." Alex pauses, scratching the back of her neck. "Let's name her Gertrude or we could adopt one from the animal shelter you volunteer at." 

"I -" Alex tries to say, but the video cuts out. 

"What?" (Y/n) whispers, typing furiously on the keyboard. "Alex!" (Y/n), frustrated with worry, tosses the broken laptop to the ground. 

"What happened?" Kara asked, striding over to (Y/n). 

(Y/n) meets Kara's gaze, her eyes alight with barely controlled anger. "I-I told you not to rush in. N-now you've made things worse."

"I did what I thought was right . . ." Kara argues. 

"I should have been heard," (Y/n) says, her eyes narrowing. "I should have been listened to. I'm her girlfriend."

"I'm her sister!" Kara argues angrily. 

"And you think that trumps me?" (Y/n) asks. "That you know what's right for her. I . . ." (Y/n) falters. "I got her to be herself, Kara." (Y/n)'s voice cracks. "I-I have just as much to lose as you." (Y/n)'s eyes burn. "You should have listened to me."

Word Count: 2,305 words

Taglist:

@procrastinatingsapphictrash

@makegoodchoices

@fanboy7794​

@theofficialzivadavid​

@confusinggemini612​

[undergrounddweller89]

NOTE : THIS IS A SPIES IN DISGUISE AU, WALTER IS THE CRIMINAL MASTER MIND AND KILLIAN IS THE SCIENTIST

THIS DEFINITELY CONTAINS SEXY TIMES

Not well written though probably and I tend to rarely go through my work to look for mistakes.

Despite Killian being kidnapped and handcuffed EVERY THING IS CONSENSUAL... Tristan is crazy obsessed with Beckett so he's very happy.

Now you've had your warning you read this instead of scrolling past that's on you, lemon is a tag used for stuff like this but if you feel like there are other tags I need to use please do tell me!)

The bag was stuffy, head phones covered his ears, they'd knocked off his glasses in their struggle to capture him, he could barely see without them.

Now his hands were cuffed behind his back, a hand on each upper arm, honestly Tristan was terrified, the car ride seemed a life time, though realistically it was only ten to fifteen minutes long.

He'd pleaded saying he was a no body just a scientist the agency threw in the corner and that no one ever took him seriously.

He was hunched, trying to tuck his head into his shoulders, so this was how he was going to die.

He felt every bump of the car and turn, trying to map out where he was going but he didn't recognise this route, usually he rode every where on his bicycle, deep blue with a silver bell and a basket on the front to pick up dinner on his way home...

Home where he could research the Criminal Master mind Walter Beckett ...to a near unhealthy obsession...alright it was unhealthy when you imagined him pushing you back against the table parting your thighs, fucking you and making you look at him by holding your head with his clawed hand....

Fuck was he going to die thinking about Walter, a man who didn't even known he existed...well he had no one, nothing living to care about...he might as well think of someone who made him happy even if only in his fantasies before he died right.

He was pulled from the car where he tried kicking at his handlers, Tristan didn't get very far though as one of them punch his gut winding him, he was wheezing as he was taken out of the vehicle.

"You know he's gonna kill you for that right."

The first handler smacked the second on the back of the head

"Only if this limp dick tells him, he's too much of pussy to squeal."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that, but Im not covering your ass."

He was dragged through the facility, Tristan refused to make it easy to carry him and went limp.

Both handlers groaned, fuck, great a difficult one, well the first wasn't going to risk hurting him into compliance and the second knew he was on thin ice, if that punch had bruised him their boss was literally going to kill him.

Other workers watched as they went by, another two carried Tristans legs who now tried to struggle again, what the hell was going on!

He was sat in a chair with ease, after all their boss was right there, the workers didn't dare handle him as if he were anything less than a handle with care package with fragile taped all over him.

"Well are you going to take that off him, it's a little hard for dramatic entrances when he can't even see me."

"Yes sir, right away."

The bag was pulled off swiftly with the headphones clattering to the floor.

Tristan squinted, everyone looked like blurs, he could see faces only as different coloured splodges, his hair sticking up in different angles, shoulders aching now, he still sat up right, heart racing

"Where are his glasses?"

Tristan turned to where he heard the man speak, it was cold, commanded respect...familiar but no it couldn't be...

"Sebastian, where are his glasses?"

"I ah, James you see knocked them off in the struggle and-"

A metal arm, supporting four claw digits at it's end clasped his face

"What did I tell you about people with glasses, remove them, keep them what Sebastian."

He had brought the man to his knees holding so tightly Sebastian could feel his skull on the verge of cracking, he let out a cry as he managed to finish the sentence

"Safe!"

"Oh good you can listen to orders, now James..."

He'd let go of Sebastian and beckoned over his other crew member, Tristan knew this voice but it couldn't be him, he must still be disorientated.

"James, what have I told you about harming what belongs to me."

He said softly, curling his his claws around James's tie, Sebastian stepped back, well he had warned his coworker and with a snap and flick of his wrist the tie had been pulled so hard and tight the man's neck had been snapped.

"He had trouble following orders, first few times is understandable, you're settling into this new life but after five years it should not be that hard."

Tristan wished he'd had his glasses because if this was Walter Beckett he would have just witnessed one of Becketts trade mark moves and yes maybe would have gushed like a fan boy.

He was going to pretend it was him until he could see at the least and imagine he was kidnapped by Thee Walter Beckett.

He listened to him calling in clean up crew and for someone to bring up the glasses, his shape coming in closer and closer, it had to be him, the silver blurred limb was on his left, the hair colour.

"Awww poor baby..."

The younger man cooed.

Tristan tried very hard not to lean into his touch when his hair was stroke back and felt the Claws against his scalp

"Don't worry now, my useless men have been dealt with, come on now look up at me."

He didn't exactly give Tristan a choice as he place a claw under his chin

"See, now Mr Mcford I know I have my fans, the ones who do their fanart, their fictions whatever you will, I keep an eye on anyone who searches my name out of curiosity..."

He tapped his nose

"You Mcford like clock work will watch videos that have only the briefest flash of me, pour over articles, fictions..."

He smirked tracing one long metal claw along his jaw

"Reader x Walter Beckett, but you got tired of them, skinny little me always being pinned, submissive, no, no you wrote your own, named yourself Killian, nice name by the way, where I owned you, laid you back and made sure you knew who you belonged to."

Tristan was red, he was so fucking red and wanted the bag back on his head

"But Im not here to embarrass you, you're actually a good writer and it was the first one I ever enjoyed myself to."

Tristan wanted to implode, die right there, hearing Beckett had fucking masturbated to his little story, he let out a whine then hung his head, trying to hide how much that effected him.

The crew came up and pulled the body from the room and handed Walter the item he'd requested

"Face me now, unless you prefer being half blind."

Beckett held his face with his human hand, finger tip tracing a cheek bone, my they were sharp weren't they, what a pretty scientist.

Placing the glasses on, small lights flickered then settled.

"They read your eyes and the lenses adjust to the prescription you need."

Walter explained now casually sitting on Mcford's lap, an arm around the back of his neck.

"I'll cut to the chase, as I said we check everyone who even so much as types my name out of curiosity and when I found out you were working for the agency that has reaaaally caused a lot of problems in my life I researched you."

Tristan was staring, no way did Walter not feel the protruding problem down below, you would literally have to be either dead or have no feeling in your body to not notice that, he was still, he listened to him, was he having a wet dream, it had to be a dream right?

"Besides my uh Internet history...what...what did you find out."

"Oh you know, that you're an under appreciated scientist who came up with designs so dangerous they had to lock them away...and I may have slightly stolen them, now while I could personally and am the only qualified person here to build such delicious technology...."

He slipped his hand under Tristans lab coat, slowly rubbing his palm against his chest and smirking at the shakey breath and the way Tristan adjusted his hips, oh he could certainly feel that reaction

"I have an evil empire to run...I need you Tristan, I want you..."

He leaned in closer, lips nearly at his.

Mcford whined, fuck he was close Walter hadn't even done anything but the raised brow and smirk on Becketts face told him he could feel him twitch and gasped as the hand that'd been on his chest traveled down a finger tip teasing the head of his cock through his pants.

"How do you feel about working for me Tristan, build your machines and what ever else comes to mind, I need someone as competent as myself..."

Walter kneaded him slowly, to the point the slow pace was painful, his mouth was open and another ragged breath left him, this had to be a wet dream a really, vivid wet dream, please don't let his alarm go off...he pressed against his neck, forehead on his shoulder as Walter stroked the back of his neck with metal Claws, cool against his flesh.

Even if he was awake, of course his answer was yes....

"We could even build something together, I'm sure you'd just love to see me work..."

Beckett leered.

Walter was so warm, he was here, touching him, fucking touching him, dragging it out and making him nearly beg and he loved it.

"Yes..."

Tristan panted, lifting his hips trying to get more friction, he still had his handcuffs on he couldn't reach out and touch the man he wanted, his wrists struggling instinctively to part.

"Look at me and say it, Tristan."

That purr went through Mcford's entire being, lifting his head whimpering, biting his lip, he loved the tease, feeling so close to the edge and having Walter deny him...he begged to some god out there that Walter would finish it at least, it was so intense, he knew his clothes were stained with precum, Beckett seemed to enjoy reminding him he knew it was there by playfully tapping a finger over the tip of his cock where the damp patch was.

"Yes...I'll work for you....I have mmmphn wanted to since I ahh first saw you... Oh my god..."

Walter smiled, watching him, listening to him, oh how blue his eyes looked when his cheeks were this flushed, absolutely gorgeous.

"Oh Tristan there is no god, only me and my loving hands."

He returned, unbuckling Tristans belt and reaching in, blushing a little himself as he watched Tristans eyes nearly roll up, his head falling forward.

Tristan watched as Walter finished him off how desperately he wanted to hold onto him, press fingers into his back, he couldn't remember the last time he came this fucking hard or if he'd ever...he was speechless...breathless and fuck he'd made a mess of them both.

He was putty in Walters hands, feeling a claw lift his head again, moaning softly still, his body was tingling all over

"Welcome to the team Killian."

Beckett said sweetly before leaning in and kissing him.

[yetanotherreader]

Useful—6(2)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Y/N Y/L/N

Genre: College AU

Summary: The school's most popular boy wants to be friends with Y/N, out of the blue. It definitely doesn't have anything to do with her hot best friend, though.

Word Count (For the chapter—both parts): 6,367

Warnings (For the chapter): Fluff, Mentions of Depression, suicide attempts, murder, angst, panic attack, fluff, more fluff?

Two parts in what? 5 minutes? Lol. I hate Tumblr sometimes, and so much.

Useful Masterlist        

Chapter 6(2)

Chapter 6(1)

You felt tears in your eyes, tears that you didn't let out of them, "I just..I-" he squeezed your hands urging you to continue, "I feel guilty. Just not good enough for you. Feels like you deserve a better friend."

Dean's little action continued on the back of your hands as he sighed, "You know you've been a better friend to me in the last few months than most people have been my entire life, right?"

"Doesn't mean you don't deserve better."

"There's no better, sweetheart. You're the best. The best high school girlfriend I could have ever asked for," You let out a little laugh. Only Dean could do that, "Mom. She was amazing."

You knew where this was headed. Dean never talked about his mom, and today he was. You held your breath as he spoke that word. Dean was opening up to you, finally. You felt him stiffen, holding back, "Go on, Dean. I'm listening. I won't judge."

"I know you won't. Out of everyone, you won't," Dean's hold tightened on your palm, "I don't have a lot of memories with her, but the ones I have they're all good. She was the best mother." Dean talked about her in past tense, and your heartbeat rose at that. You thought he had a mother, everyone thought that, "When I was four, there was a house fire. Sam was very small, 6 months. Dad ran to save her, but she forced him to save us instead. And he did. I remember seeing my house burn, with Sammy crying in my arms, with mom.

You gasped, your heart aching in your chest for the scared little boy Dean was hiding inside himself, "In the matter of seconds, dad came and picked us up, running in the opposite direction of the house. I kept yelling at him that he needed to go save mom, but all my cries..they were subsided by the explosion that happened in front. Mom was gone...forever. Only because dad had to save me."

You let out a shaky breath. He couldn't have been blaming himself for it the entire time, right? "Dean, it wasn't your fault." You positioned your head, now, your chin on his shoulder as you looked up in his teary eyes. Your faces inches away from each other. You cupped his face with your free hand and wiped the lone tear that escaped his eyes. What all had he been keeping inside for so long?

"It feels like it is," He shut his eyes, letting his tears out, "everything feels like my fault."

Your heart literally hurt in your chest. He didn't deserve that, he never deserved that, "But it's not. He is your dad, obviously he'd save you, Dean. You-you can't be blaming yourself, De."

"I saw someone that day. In the cupboard," you frowned at the new information as Dean rested his forehead on yours, "But I thought it was my imagination. A man. He had yellow eyes. Golden ones.

"I never told that to Dad. I don't know why, I just never did. But that image wasn't something I could have forgotten. But I thought it was a dream. After mom died, Dad worked overtime. He was a cop. I had to take care of Sam."

"Ever since you were four?" You let out before you could stop. That wasn't something a kid should be responsible for. He shifted so that you both were in your earlier positions.

"Yeah. That day, when I was 10, after putting Sam to sleep, I thought I would go play outside. That's when I heard it. Dad was talking to someone on the phone. Mom didn't die in the accident. She was murdered. I got to know that mom was an agent. Undercover. I didn't know what that meant but I understood she was the police. I didn't know how to process this new information and that's when I got my first panic attack.

You shut your eyes, tears falling on your cheeks, "I went into the bathroom. It was hard to breathe and I was feeling hot. I wanted to cry but nothing came out of my eyes," you brought your free hand to his muscled arm and gave it a squeeze, having a hard time keeping yourself from breaking apart, "I turned on the shower and stood there till I was better. I never spoke about it ever again, until now. I trust you, Y/N. Please don't ever break it."

His voice sounded hoarse from keeping himself from crying, "I won't. You matter a lot to me, Dean. The most."

He sighed, as if getting some reassurance, "Depression knocked after that. There were times I almost k- killed myself," You hid your face in his neck, wanting to get closer to him, to see he was there, breathing. He took a pause, nuzzling into your hair, feeling some life himself, "But the thought of Sammy, it stopped me. Each and every time. Sometimes he called my name just before I was about to do it, or sometimes I'd just remember his smile and how it'd fade forever if I pressed the trigger. That was one time I got dad's gun. I didn't even know how to use it. Sammy was my savior, he was my light at the end of the tunnel. He was the one who first noticed my self destructive behaviour. I was 16 and he was 12. He was a nerd, obviously he noticed," Dean chuckled to himself, "And when he found out that I had depression, he was hell bent on helping me. Even after I pushed him away, he didn't budge. By that time Dad started staying in different cities, so Sam and I were pretty much all. Bobby visited us every few days, dad's best friend. That's who Sam told. I was very mad, telling him that he's not supposed to tell just anyone about it. That's when Uncle Bobby smacked me in the head saying, and I'll quote in his accent, 'Family don't end in blood, boy.'" Dean chuckled at his own voice. A sight you wanted to capture forever. How could someone go through so much alone and still be as good as he was? How could someone be so strong?

"Then? Your uncle did something?" You asked softly.

"Yeah. Lots of love and care," He smiled nostalgic, "I felt like for the first time that I had people who care about me enough to bear with me."

"I'm glad you had them. Uncle Bobby and Sam, both of them sound like cool guys."

"Oh my god, yes" Dean laughed a hearty laugh, "They're the coolest guys. I want you to meet them someday! If, uh, if you're okay with it?"

You smiled, "Yeah, I want to meet them too." 

"Bobby owned a garage. He got busy with it, and Sammy started preparing for law school. And I thought I was doing better, much better. My panic attacks were less and I smiled more. But without them, it was lonely. I was scared that I'll go into that dark place again. That's when I met Cassie."

You clenched your jaw, "The Cassie?"

"Yeah," Dean gulped, "We dated in high school. The first girl I liked, I mean, really liked. I was 18 and it was my first serious relationship. I really thought we could make something."

"You….you were in love with her?" You breathed out the words, a sudden wave of hurt passing through you.

"I guess," he sighed, sounding hurt, "I had liked her for a long time and we hooked up. But I think we both wanted more than just a hookup with each other. She was attractive, you know. She was strong headed and confident, someone who knew what she wanted and she was gorgeous. And that was hot to me." Something you could never be, "And maybe I was hot to her too. We went out for a couple of months. Everything was good. I was at her place once, it was mom's death anniversary. The hardest time of the year. And after a long long time, I had a panic attack."

"She helped you, right?" You asked, knowing the answer to it very well.

"She said I was nuts," you clenched your jaw, feeling fury in your head. You never really cared about Cassie, until you got to know she blackmailed Dean to throw you in the pool and later bully you about it. But right now all you felt was her was pure hate. How could she? How could anyone be so insensitive to someone? And especially when that someone is her boyfriend?

"Bloody bitch,"

"Right?" Dean laughed a little, "It was a long time ago, though. I'm fine now."

"Don't act tough around me, Dean," He sighed, "Is that why you never told anyone about your condition?" He nodded timidly, "Oh, Dean."

This time you wrapped your hands complete around his torso, nuzzling into his shoulders. He deserved all the happiness in the world and what he got was all of this, "When that night you found me...you know, helped me. I thought it was going to be the same. We didn't share a very good rapport. I mean, after what I did with you the first day, it was understandable if you hated me. I thought you were going to laugh at me, or maybe tell everyone about how weak I was.

You felt a pang inside your chest at that accusation, you had never been mean to anyone so it felt bad that he assumed that about you. But you understood it, he had trust issues. The girl he trusted, even loved, did that to him so you were a girl who didn't get along with him, "But you were nothing but kind to me. You helped me. That hug was the realest hug I had gotten in a long time. You comforted me and you did all of that. And now that panic attack doesn't feel all that bad. It gave me my favorite person."

"You're my favorite person, too, Dean. I can't imagine a life without you in it, you know. And I promise you, from now on, you will never find yourself alone when you need someone," You pulled away from him and cupped his face, wiping the stray tears. In that moment, all you wanted to do was press your lips to his and pour all the love he was deprived of in that kiss, but you knew that wasn't something that could happen. So you did what you think was closest, repeat an action from the day. He looked at you with unshed tears in his eyes, and all you wanted to do was take his hurt away. You leaned in, slowly pressing your lips to the side of his mouth, tasting the saltiness of his tears. He let out a sigh, "I'm always going to be there, Dean, okay?"

He nodded against your lips and you swore your breath hitched in your throat when they slightly grazed his. You pulled away slowly, maintaining whatever little boundaries were left between you two. It was all friendly, "Thank you."

"Mm hmm," You stood up, walking towards the lake, "The swans are gone."

Dean followed you, "Seems like they are."

"And for the record, Cassie is a dumb bitch."

Dean let out a laugh, "Yeah, yeah she is,"  He stood next to you, seeing the reflection of the moon in the lake, "Why do you keep pushing me away?"

That was the last thing that you expected to come out of his mouth, "Wh-what do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. Every time something happens, you go MIA on me or act like nothing happened. This happened yesterday, before that and today in the fair. What is it that's holding you back from opening up? Is it that you don't trust me?"

It wasn't an accusation, he looked genuinely confused. You didn't think he'd pick on these little things, "It's nothing like that. You're just overthinking thi-"

"It's okay if you don't wanna tell, Y/N. Just don't lie to me. I don't expect you to trust me but the least I can hope is that you don't lie to me and make me feel like a stranger."

"It's not that..I'm sorry," You said, feeling exposed under his stare, "I-I don't know how to talk about.. things. I never did. You mean a hell lot to me, Dean. It has nothing to do with you. It's me. I'm scared. I wish I were as strong as you because trust me, I do want to talk about my feelings. I just can't."

"It's okay, Y/N." Dean sighed and your ears perked up. Is he done with you? Is that all? Your eyes widened as your head turned in his direction. He looked back concerned and cupped your face, "Y/N, I meant it. It's okay. Tell me whenever you think you can tell me. I'm going to wait. I'm not going anywhere."

"Please don't give up on me just yet." Your eyes brimmed with unshed tears, as he looked back with nothing but understanding.

"I'm not. I'll always be here." He whispered, slowly pressing his lips to your forehead, "I promise."

And that's when you knew, it wasn't a silly crush. You were in love with your best friend.

You loved Dean Winchester.

—

A/N: So that's about it. I really hope you liked this one because well, I mean I wrote it I'd obviously want you to like this. Ugh, I'm so bad at this. So yeah, I hope you had a happy reading. Feedback is greatly appreciated, it keeps me going.

Tags for useful:

 @bi-danvers0 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @itsjaybro16 @mml232 @blablatiti @stilltoomuchafangirl @bat-shark-repellant @bluebell-24 @shortwinchester @always-money-in-the-banana-stand @soullessbabee @ima-be-a-mongoose @infinityspacesuniverse @vicmc624 @roonyxx @fandoms-fiend @slythermyg @perpetualabsurdity @whydontwejustgohunting @supraveng @coffeebooksandfandom @justafuckeduphuman @busy-bee-angel-misska @ria123love @woodworthti666 @katiekitty261 @supernatural-fan-123 @yxseminx @janicho88

[leagueofidiots]

Happy Birthday Dabi!!!!

A.) Triggers!! Mentions of past abuse

B.) Shigadabi yeet

C.) I headcanon Jan 18 as the day Touya died, but I wrote this back when I thought his birthday was Dec 6 and I was too lazy to edit things, so,,, yeah

I've never been a huge believer in birthdays. Living with the Todorokis, I always spent it training or locked in my room, screaming and crying and begging for freedom. With Ujiko, they went by without my notice. On the streets, I only did something once. Just found a small alleyway and lit my fingertip on fire, singing to myself in an attempt to try to lift my mood. Honestly, it just made me more depressed.

It's just a day used as a mark of age. Not even worth mentioning. In fact, something to keep secret to everyone but yourself.

So it's beyond a surprise when I swing open the door of my room to be greeted with a loud shout of "Happy birthday!" ringing in my ears. My fellow league members stand in front of me, a small, messily frosted cupcake balanced in Toga's hands and held out to me.

"Guys, what are you doing?" I ask awkwardly. "Also, what day is it?"

"January eighteenth," says Compress. "Did we get our date wrong or something? We had to guess between today, February sixth, and November twelfth. Sources were somewhat unhelpful."

Was it my birthday already? I thought it wasn't for another week at least. Even so, how did they know? I'd carefully avoided the topic.

"You see, once you told us that you were…" begins Kurogiri, cutting himself off once he hits the name we all know he means. "Well, I decided to look you up. Just for a few simple things. Birthday, any interests I could find...I'm sorry if it seems invasive, but I thought it could help us better understand how to help you feel appreciated."

At first I'm put off by it. People knowing things about me I didn't tell them bothers me deeply. But the more I consider it, the less I mind. They care. And it's harmless, isn't it? It won't kill me to play along just for the day.

Toga waves the cupcake in my face. "Well, you gonna take it, Bacon Bits?" she asks gleefully.

I accept it, hesitantly taking a bite. "Mmmm. What'd you put in this thing?" I ask, mouth full. It tastes awful, and I feel my nose wrinkle in distaste despite myself. Between food in general, sweet food in general, and whatever the salty-bitter aftertaste is, I almost gag.

"Oh, crap, is that the wrong one? I put blood in one...I think that might be it. Sorry. It's either chocolate or blood."

Spinner gives her a sideways glance and a whispered, "Whose---"

I spit out the dark batter. "Definitely blood, but uh...You know, I'm good. Not big on sweets anyway."

"Oh!" She takes it back. "More for me then."

Jin drags me out to the common area, mask lifted enough to display a wide grin. "We couldn't do much, but we figured it'd at least be better than before we all knew each other, yeah?"

"Yeah, sure," I say. "You guys didn't have to do anything, you know."

"Yes we did," Shigaraki insists. "You're my right hand, it's only right we should give you at least one day for just you."

"Now we know you're more the type of guy to keep to yourself," says Magne, "so just let us spoil you for the next half hour, then you get to do whatever you want, okay?"

I nod again, shaking my wrist loose from Twice's grip. "Alright, I can deal with that. What did you guys have planned?"

Suichi quickly ties his scarf around my eyes, careful of his claws and my staples. "Hang tight for one sec."

There's a quick shuffling, accompanied by my teammates' voices muttering happily to each other. A portal opens, and a few moments later I'm allowed to see again.

The seven idiots I for some reason chose to live with sit in a half-circle on the floor at my feet, each holding grocery bags with diversely-shaped contents, one of Toga's hair ribbons tied and stuck on top of each. Atsuhiro smiles, and passes me his.

"You guys…" I say quietly. I'm not worth all this effort, all this money, all this time. It'd be better spent planning missions or buying food or really anything else. It's stupid of them to care so much about something---someone---so worthless.

"Not a word," says Jin, as if he can hear my thoughts. "You're worth it. We saved up for this."

It's not anything like when I was a kid, eagerly tearing open neatly and colorfully wrapped boxes, unsurprised at the high cost of the contents. I'd never thought I was worth any of it deep down, but the ritual was still exciting even if I spent it alone on most occasions. But this is nicer. People around me that actually care. I try to make myself accept it.

Baby wipes from Compress, saying he worries about me showering on the days my scars hurt particularly badly. A book from Spinner, saying he'd read it and thought I'd enjoy it. Eyeliner from Kenji, saying she'd tested it for tear-proofness. A sweater from Kurogiri, saying he'd knitted it himself. Several nail polishes from Himiko, saying she wanted to give me the pastel pink as soon as humanly possible. A My Chemical Romance CD from Twice, saying he wanted to listen to it with me sometime.

When it comes to Tomura, he simply tosses an empty plastic bag onto my lap. "I didn't buy anything."

"Some boyfriend you are," I say teasingly. Really, I'm somewhat grateful. As much as I want to feel wanted, I can't help but see the yen racking up, another day without food for the league, the people I care about most suffering as silently as they're able to.

"Yeah, yeah, shut up. My gift to you is that I will leave you alone." He doesn't smile or anything to indicate that he's kidding. "Won't hug you, or try to hold your hand, or anything. You're free."

I push myself off the couch onto my knees, trying to ignore the tugging at my staples. "Tomura…" How do I say it? I don't want to sound like I care too much or anything. "I don't want you to leave me alone. Just...Just when I ask you to, okay?"

Does he think I don't want him? It's difficult to treat him like I do when touch can be so suffocating, so terrifying. Especially with someone like him, who has described laying inches away from me without trying to cling to me like drowning.

I take his hands in mine, careful to leave his fingers to twitch anxiously away from mine. "You deserve to get what you want too."

Tomura smiles up at me, eyes shining a little bit with the effort to remain emotionless at my rare display of affection. "Well, what am I supposed to get you then?"

"Seeing you smile's enough," I say quietly. I regret it instantly.

"Oh, get a room," laughs Magne.

I roll my eyes, and shove myself back up onto the couch. "Thanks, Kenji."

"Always happy to help."

"Well, that's all we have," says Kurogiri, smile showing in his voice. "Let us know if we can do anything for you, but the rest of the day is all yours."

"Enjoy your alone time," says Suichi, helping pull me to my feet. "You're probably not gonna get any more for a long time."

And for once, the thought of being alone terrifies me. If I go alone in that room, how is it any better than those years I spent before the burns, the black hair, the overwhelming hatred?

"Actually, I'd rather hang out here," I say as if it's no matter, as if the thought of closing a door behind me won't send me spiralling back to that ten year old version of myself, screaming and pounding on my walls as a mix of tears and snot pour down my face.

"Oh. Alright, cool." Jin holds out another cupcake to me. "You're positive you don't want this?"

I shake my head, smiling a little. "Thank you guys. For this."

Toga grins. "Anything for our favorite edgelord."

Tomura pushes himself to his feet, snatching the cupcake from Twice. He takes a toungeful of the grainy-looking frosting and smirks at me, passing the cake back covered in saliva. I take his hand, his pinkie sticking out cautiously. "Happy birthday, Dabi." And looking around at them, I finally understand the phrase's meaning.

Click for quality

This is what he's jamming to: https://youtu.be/aWQ_r9nNHt0

[witness-protection-official]

Warning! Lots more cussing this time, mention of doing drugs, and god tier acting from both parties

Also very long this time I spent a sold three hours writing this

Witness Protection - An Eyeless Jack x Female Reader Fanfiction

Chapter 3

You felt as though you were going insane. The man hadn't said a single word to you since the weird field area. Only lord knew if the ancient vehicle you sat in had a working radio. Asking was out of the question, you still had tape over your mouth. Couldn't check, you had tape gloves that went all the way up your arms, rendering them useless. With half lidded eyes, you stare at your disheveled figure in the side mirror. Dear god, you looked like shit. The blood on the side of your face had caked into a gross brown and was beginning to flake off, leaving you looking like you were a burn victim. You wince internally. You had mangled hair, with strands sticking every which way. Bags under the eyes displayed your lack of sleep and slowly depleting sanity. With a nearly inaudible groan, you tap your head against the glass. 'Can't he just kill me and get this over with? I don't know how much sitting in dead silence I'm going to be able to handle.' You slouch heavily, slowly sinking to the floor of the truck.

"You'll hurt your back sitting like that," his monotone voice stated off handedly. You huff and remain there. He sighs and grabs the back of your shirt, tugging you up to sit properly. You groan. Apparently sitting weirdly isn't even an option. He remains facing foward, not even glancing in your direction. Unable to spit insults at him, you level a heated glare at instead. He either doesn't notice or doesn't care. Maybe a good mix of both. It wasn't easy to tell how long you sat there, giving a dirty look to a man that probably couldn't even see you past the hood he had been wearing this entire time, but you assumed it had been about ten minutes or so. The truck suddenly stopped. You break out of your hate filled trance and look around. Why did he park in an actual parking lot? Was he going to let you go? The thought filled your heart with hope. He popped open the center console and pulled out a large bottle of what sounded like pills. Christ, was he about do just pop a few pills to deal with your bullshit? He pulled his mask off, placing it in the back seat. The cap popped off and he dumped a few out, throwing them into his mouth and closing the bottle. He pulled the hood down, giving you a clear view of the side of his head. You voice your distress at his appearance in muffled screams. He sighs heavily, leaning his head back against his seat, not seeming bothered. The screaming grew louder as his features shifted.

He opened his eyes and glanced at you, letting you get a clear view of his eyes. The screaming ceased in shock. How had you not seen them under his mask? With how bright the blue of his iris was, one would think they would glow in the dark. He pulled the visor down to examine his face in the small mirror embedded inside. He licked his teeth, turned his face from side to side. It finally clicked why he sounded familiar. He was the weird guy that had been staring at you when you changed out shifts with a coworker. You sigh internally. No point in thinking about it now, you guessed. He had murdered someone and kidnapped you, you had bigger things to worry about. His buckle clicked and you snapped out of your thoughts.

"I'll be back," he said simply, clicking something on the side of the door and closing it. Did- did that fucker just turn the child lock on?! Where the fuck were you gonna go in blood soaked clothes and taped up arms?! You send a hateful glare at his retreating form. He went into a store. A very large store. The fuck was he doing?

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

He bit the inside of his cheek as he entered the store. Did she really have to scream like that? Probably, not everyday you see a man with grey skin. And it's also not everyday you see him suddenly become a shape shifter after popping some pills. Either way, it really wasn't a boost of confidence for his already weak self esteem. Whatever. He had a reputation to uphold, and that meant keeping his cool, constantly. He'd already almost lost it on her while she was being annoying the night before. No point in risking it now. Jack sighed and rubbed his eyes. He began his journey towards the clothes section of the store before he paused. He forgot to ask what her sizes were. He facepalmed. And she had been wearing heels too. He grumbled, figuring it'd be easier to deal with that later. Right now he had to focus on getting her clothes that weren't stained with blood. He debated on heading to the woman's section, guess her size. No, bad idea. Someone is bound to try to talk to him. He was a tall man, he had no reason to be in the woman's section, and people were bound to wonder. Both his pride and crippling social anxiety told him to not risk it. Avoid talking with people was a priority. With a deep breath, he swiveled on his heel, headed towards the mens. He'd just grab some smaller sized jeans or something. There was a time where baggy jeans were popular right? He furrowed his brows as he thought, as he did a lot. His mind continued to wander until he reached the clothes. He eyed the jeans and opted to grab a pair of skinny jeans, in a random size that looked like they would fit her. He wasn't exactly staring at her legs, so he hoped that brief mental image he had in his mind was enough. He turned to the shirts. Any of them would work, they just couldn't be too big. He really wasn't in the mood to listen to her bitch and whine about him being a 'pervert' because it dipped too low and showed her bra.

He grabbed a basic black tee, looking to be maybe a size smaller than he got his own shirts. That'll do. He got a second pair of pants and a second shirt, just for good measure. He bit his tongue. He knew a little bit about the hygenic needs of a woman, but he hadn't smelled any blood or hormonal spike on her, so he figured she'd be fine for now. As he made his way to a different part of the store, he passed a shelf of hoodies. He backed up. Should he get her a hoodie? That would be awfully nice of him. She had done nothing to deserve any form of kindness from Jack. Letting her live was the extent of his mercy for her. 'But if she isn't cold that's less things she'll have to bitch about…' he mulled it over in his head before deciding. He'd get another hoodie for himself and let her wear it passively. 'What a fucking genius you are, Jack, absolute genius' he congratulated himself, grabbing a dark colored hoodie that was in his size. He nodded, satisfied and went to get a few more items.

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

You had been pretty confident he up and died in that store, he took so long. But alas, he had to return. You watched his form make it's way to your side of the truck and reflexively shifted away. He swung it open, placing the bags he held ontot he ground while he stood onto the step to reach your seatbelt clip. He tore off the tape, unclipping the restraint. The tape on your mouth went next.

"Spit an insult at me and I'll cut off your tongue," he quipped. You closed your mouth. "Good girl," he himself seemed to cringe at what he just said, judging by the sigh he released. You scrutinized his face as he worked on the tape on your arms with intense concentration. He had tiny freckles all over his face. They were so small it was impossible to see them from a distance, but they were everywhere. His nose, his cheeks, even the top of his neck and between his eyes. You would've found him attractive if you didnt know it wasn't what he actually looked like. Tanned skin and soft looking auburn hair helped him sell the whole 'fucking gorgeous' thing.

"What's with the whole 'pretty boy' get up?" you murmur. He pauses and looks up at you, confused. "why did you choose this look to be normal?" He searched her face for any underlying intentions. When he found none, he shrugged.

"Didn't get a choice," He finally managed to get the tape off of your hands and arms.

"You got damn lucky with it then, you coulda been ugly," you shrugged. He took a deep breath and didn't respond, instead reaching into the bag and pulling out a package of what appeared to be baby wipes. "I'm not a baby,"

"I noticed," he opened the package and pulled out a wipe. He gripped your jaw and turned your head to the side.

"I can do this myself,"

"Don't trust you," as usual, his response was simple. He wiped the dried blood off of your face rather harshly.

"Hey, hey! Be gentler! I'm not dead yet!" He growled lowly and held your face tighter in his hand, wiping the rest of the blood off of any currently visible skin. He took another wipe and used it to wipe off any tape or dirt residue off of you. "What gives with the mini bath?"

"You'll see," He pushed your head down, bending you so that your chest was pressed tightly against your thighs. He threw what you assumed to be the wipes into the back before letting you sit up again. He picked up the bag from off of the pavement and handed it to you. "Change," he closed the truck door. He must've gotten you clothes so you wouldnt be covered in blood constantly. You pull out a pair of jeans and a shirt, followed by an extremely oversized hoodie. You quirk a brow but peek out the window. The man was scrolling on his phone, back pressed against the car door. You deemed it safe to change and stripped down, pulling the new, clean clothes on. You rummaged through the bag some more and came across a hair brush, dry shampoo, and deodorant. Questionable items, but you put them to use. You felt like a human again. A soft knock on the window startled you. There he was. You blink dumbly at him. He points down. You look down. You had locked the door. With a sigh, you unlocked the door and he opened it.

"You didn't stare at me while I was changing, did you?" you narrow your eyes in suspicion.

"I've got no reason to," he took the hoodie out of the bag and threw it at you. "Wear it if you want," he threw the bag in the backseat. You huff and pull the sweater over your head. He closed the door and moved to the drivers side. He strapped in and started the truck.

"Why'd you make me freshen up and stuff?"

"You need food. I don't know what you want," He made the short drive to a gas station that was only about five minutes up the road. He unstrapped and went to your side, opening the door. "Out," You unstrapped and slipped out of the truck, a little wobbly from not standing for so long. The heels didn't help.

"You're coming in with me?"

"I'm the one with money,"

"There's another reason, isn't there,"

"That one is obvious. Now listen. You go in there, grab anything you need, and if anyone asks, I'm your boyfriend," he briefed.

"Why do I have to say you're my boyfriend?"

"You won't have to if you don't act suspicious, now lets go, I've spoken to much,"

"You got a word limit or something?"

"Mentally," he ushered you inside.

"You gonna act all boyfriendy?"

"Boyfriendy?"

"Are you gonna act like my boyfriend?"

"Yes, and you'll have to deal,"

"Ew, but why,"

"There won't be any kissing," he rolled his eyes.

"What if you need to?"

"I won't" he guided you to the hot foods area. "Now get your food," He stayed close as you grabbed two slices of pizza and a hot dog, putting them in mini bags. "Its a long drive, go get yourself some snacks," you nod and sort of hand him your hot food, which he holds with no complaint. His eyes hold a glimmer of warning, telling you not to do anything stupid.

You're examining the chips on the different shelves when some girl about your age comes up to you.

"Did you hear?" She leans in close.

"Hear what?" you tilt your head.

"About the murder at that hotel. Apparently the murderer took a hostage with them, one of the staff," you pretend to be shocked and that the hostage was 100% not you.

"Really?" top tier lying this was. You just hoped it was believable. She nodded.

"By the way that guy has kind of been staring you down this entire time," she whispered. "Hey, creep! Why don't you go bother some other chick-!"

"Wait! It's ok," you subtly gulp and turn to your kidnapper, acting as natural as possible. "Babe, are you gonna keep standing there like a stalker?" He shook his head.

"S-sorry," he chuckled awkwardly, moving to stand next to you. He somehow managed to look bashful, blush and all. His posture was slouched to look more weak and not as standoffish. He probably took an acting class at some point.

"Oh, you're dating," she seemed relieved. You nod. "Can I have proof?"

"Why- why do you need proof that we're dating?"

"With the whole hostage thing I just wanna make sure he isn't the murderer, or you aren't, you never know,"

"It does make a bit of sense," your abductor agreed, somehow flying through this whole interaction look weak and pathetic, and making it look like he was completely off the list of possible suspects. She raised her eyebrows, waiting. He looks down at you and you look up at him, seeming to have the same idea. He lean down and you meet him halfway in a short kiss. The taste of iron and blood you expected never showed up. When you two pulled away from each other, the woman visibly relaxed.

"Alright, sorry for being weird. Have a nice day!" she waved. You waved along with the man. He grabs your hand.

"She made a scene, we gotta keep up the appearance," he whispered as he leaned down, followed by a kiss on the cheek to cover it up. You notice some people were definitely staring.

"Got it," you whisper back. Pulling your hand away from his you grab a bag of chips. "Do we wanna get chips or something else for the trip?"

"You'll be eating them more than me,"

"Yeah but I don't want you to think I'm greedy for eating them all,"

"I won't think you're greedy,"

"Yes you will," you put the chips back.

"You can get the chips, babe," You whine.

"But-!"

"You're fine," he took the chips off of the shelf and placed them in your hands. He mouthed something to you. 'Jack'. You assumed that was his name.

"You sure, Jackie? You're 100% sure?"

"Yes," You shrug and grab the collar of his hoodie and yank him down, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you," you coo. He hums and pecks your lips. The line is fairly short as you two go to pay. Jack pays and before you leave the guy manning the register bids you farewell.

"Be safe, you two lovebirds,"

"We will, have a nice day!" The moment you're both in the car you place the bag down and go to fetch the wet wipes to wipe your mouth off. They wer to far back and you sighed. "You're a really good actor," you comment. "Your affection felt real," he hums.

"Likewise," he seemed greatly uncomfortable, and it made you wonder what he meant by metal word limit. Either that or he just really did not like pretending to be dating his hostage. You shrug. Best to ask once you've eaten. You unwrap your hotdog and take a bite.

[v1rg1nvodkasprite]

Profoundly Immoral and Wicked → Peter Parker (Part I)

Summary

After loosing hope and everyone he cared for, Peter turns to devilish actions while risking his own life and the life of the one person who hasn't lost hope for him.

Warnings: language, mention of death, angst, dark!spiderman, endgame spoilers

Notes: hey guys this is a new series that i'm starting. i really like this concept and it's not written enough honestly. lmk if u want to be added to my taglist here. i hope you enjoy!! x

I paced back and forth in the Avengers Compund, nervously waiting for any news to come through my police radio. It was around the usual time that Peter would cause trouble and now all I had to do was wait. "Maybe he's taking a break tonight," Clint said, taking a bite from the apple in his hand.

I shook my head. "He never does," I said, my gaze never leaving the radio. Clint sighed before taking another bite, shaking his head.

"Attention 486 units, we've got a 10-31 in progress at 97-41 Queens Blvd, Rego Park, NY 11374. Any unit in 10 or less," a voice came from the radio. I was quick to respond, unzipping my sweatshirt to reveal the white, skin-tight suit underneath.

"Need any help?" Clint asked, getting up from the chair and I shook my head. "No, I've got this," I said before junping out the window, my wings expanding to glide through the air.

I made my way towards the bank a quickly as possible not wanting the police to arrive before me. If the police got to Peter before I did, he would most definitely go to prison and I couldn't let that happen. He'd be put in the same place as the villians he defeated. He'd be killed instantly.

I perched on top the roof, observing Peter as he stuffed wads of cash into a bag from a broken ATM. After stuffing the cash into the bag, he shot a web to the next building, swinging himself up to the roof. I few after him, grabbing onto him as he landed onto the roof.

He grunted falling onto the ground as I tackled him. "Get the fuck off of me," he said, elbowing me in the face. I groaned, my hand going to my nose as it throbbed in pain.

"Peter, stop!" I yelled to him, sweeping my wings under his feet, making him fall. "Leave me alone, Y/N," he said, shooting a web at one of my wings pulling me down to the ground.

I got up, trying to fly over Peter but he pulled me back down, kick me in my chest. I fell back, the wind knocked out of me. I groaned getting back up, grabbing a Peter from behind, jumping off of the building and flying in the direction of where the Avengers compound was.

"Let me go!" he yelled, throwing his head back, hitting my face. I dropped him, groaning in pain as he fell in top of another roof. I dived down, landing on the building as I ran after Peter.

"Peter please," I called out to him. "Why are you here?" he stopped, turning around to face me. "Because I want to help you. You don't need to do this," I told him, my face full of concern. "I don't need your help. Last time you tried to help, Mr. Stark died and then May died! You don't get to tell me what's wrong from right when you let them die!" She yelled at me, furiously.

I shook my head, "Peter, you know that wasn't my fault. My dad died to save everyone else. I would've gladly taken his place," I said, a knot forming in my throat at the mention of my late father.

It hadn't even been a year since he died and a few months since May died. I remembered that night lividly. Some how, Harry found out that Peter was Spiderman and decided to kill May to get revenge on Peter for killing his father.

The plan was that Peter would try to distract Harry while I snuck up on him to pick up May and fly her away from the fight but the plan fell through.

Harry turned back to face me as soon as jumped out of the shadows and threw May away from him. I dived down trying to reach May before she hit the ground but was far behind her. Peter shot a web down to try to catch her, only for her to hit the ground as the web attached to her.

"But you killed May, you didn't even try to get her. You just let her fall!" he screamed, his throat becoming raw. "Don't you dare say that I didn't try! I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough. I cared about her so don't say that I didn't care or just let her die. I tried, Peter and I'm sorry," I yelled at him, starting to choke.

"She's dead and it's your fault!" he scream at me, shooting a web straight for my chest. An uncomfortable feeling shot through, all of my body cramping up, the web shocking me. Peter had used one of the many combinations my dad put into his suit, tasing me with his web.

I fell to the group screaming out as the jolts of electricity run through me. He stopped after a minute, looking at me for a few seconds as I laid on the ground, not being able to move. I couldn't tell what he was thinking as he watched me but it wasn't long before he short another web off, swinging away.

I waited a few minutes, finally pushing myself up as the rest of my body still felt tight. Of course, I had fought with Peter before and left with a few bruises and scratches but we never crossed the line like that.

I made my way back to the compound, deciding on walking instead of flying. I didn't trust myself to keep myself up as my wings felt like they were on fire.

As made my way up to lab in the compound, I suddenly collapsed. My heart beat was the only thing I heard as a surreal pain in my chest grew. I screamed out in pain as Scott ran to my side.

"Oh my god! Oh my god! Let me- fuck! I'm going to get someone," he said, running away. Seconds later, he came back with Bruce, the pain increasing. Bruce picked me and I felt like small in his arms as he carried me to medical lab, setting me down on the bed.

"She's having a heart attack, give her some aspirin while I set up the ACE inhibitors. Try to keep her calm, okay?" he said, before walking away. "You're going to be okay. Everything's going to be fine, alright?" Scott said, trying to reassure me but it sounded like he was trying convince himself.

I soon passed out, the pain overcoming me. Later, I woke up, my chest still a bit sore but the overall pain had stopped. "How are you feeling?" Bruce asked, sitting down next to the bed. "I'm okay," I said, sitting up. "Woah, woah. Lay back down," he said, pushing me back down gently but with his strength, it wasn't as gentle.

"I'm fine, Bruce," I huffed but he shook his head. "You're not. It seems like you have an atrial septal defect. You basically have a hole in your heart between the two lower chambers," he explained. My eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, "What does that mean? Am I going to be able to go on missions and stuff?"

Bruce sighed, nodding, "Technically, yes but I would t recommend it. The amount of adrenaline that fighting involves could damage your heart over time," he said and I nodded. "You should also take a break from chasing after Peter," he said and I shook my head.

"I can't, you know that. He didn't give up on me when Dad died so I'm not going to give up on him. You remember when I almost drank myself to death everyday. He was the one that made me go to rehab," I said and Bruce sighed. "Yes, I remember. Just take it easy, okay? If he takes it any harder on you, there's a chance it'll get worse. We're looking at you dying, Y/N," he said and I sighed and nodded.

It was still hard to wrap my head around the fact that Peter would ever use that on me. Even during the Civil War, he wouldn't punch me or use any of his webs on me even though I was fighting on Cap's side. I guess he had changed completely. It was going to be really hard to help get back to who he used to be.

taglist

@satanspaghetti , @rencontre-moi-dans-le-couloir , @thewinchesterchronicles , @b-i-g-i-r-l-b-i , @rexorangecouny , @harrysstyleseyes , @weakling-grace , @computersaysnot , @lilibellecms , @jonesyaddiction , @toogoateechild , @boomtownboy , @benders-diamond-earring , @rogertaylors-falsetto

[hazelsmom]

I've been dreaming of my friend, Caleb, who OD'd back in February. He had just gotten out of rehab, too. We all knew he was still using, though. He had actually OD'd a few days before that, but his brother happened to hear him talk and had the sense to call us, since he knew we have Narcan and live close. Luckily, we had a ride over there. It was less than a week later though that he was gone. Jacob called us at like 2 in the morning to say he was dead. We went over to console Jacob. It still doesn't feel real. Like he's just on vacation, but will be back. I wonder if he knew what was happening, but couldn't stop it. I wonder what his final thoughts were. Did he ever think, even for just a second, that maybe this shot is too big? Did he had any thoughts before he fell to the ground? Was he scared, knowing he was likely dying and no one could hear him to come help? Or was it peaceful? Did he just drift off to sleep, not a care in the world, and just never wake back up? We all say things like well maybe if I had checked in on him more...or maybe if I tried a little harder, he'd still be here. But we had no way of knowing. His brother was downstairs while he was shooting up for the last time and had absolutely no idea what was going on just above him. He was sitting on the couch, watching TV or something, going on about his life, while a human being, his own brother, even, was dying upstairs, and he heard nothing. He thought he was just asleep after a long day at work. Their mother came home hours after it happened, again no idea her oldest child was dead in his room, thinking the same as Jacob, oh he had a long day at work, he's probably just passed out. She opened the door to turn the light off in his room, such a motherly thing, to make her baby as comfortable as possible, and there he was, on the floor of his own bedroom, dead. Did she know immediately? Or did she think he was just passed out? The way Jacob tells it, their mother immediately yelled for him to come help, and the moment he saw his older brother, laying dead on the floor, he knew instantly he was gone. Yet, he still tried. He says he knew immediately based on how he looked, lividity had already set in and blood was pooling on his face, but he still ran over to try and move him. To try and wake him up. He said he tried to shake him awake and he grabbed him, and he had been gone for so long already, rigor mortis had set in and his arms stayed exactly in place when he moved him. He said he knew he was dead the moment he saw him. The moment he saw his brothers face smushed against the floor, unmoving, with blood starting to pool already, and his dead, lifeless eyes staring at nothing, that he was dead. But then he still tried to shake him awake. I think about that a lot. Was it a show for their mother? To let her have a few extra seconds of thinking her son was still alive? To perhaps show her without a shadow of a doubt he was gone. Or was he himself perhaps still hopeful he could just shake him back to life, even for just a moment? These are things I'll never know. I'll never know what Caleb's last thoughts were. I'll never know if he had any doubts that he was doing too much. I'll never know if he knew he was dying. I'll never know if there's even the smallest of chance that he did actually know it was too much in the syringe and just didn't care. If that maybe it wasn't exactly intentional, but he just truly did not care if he lived or died. Or hell. Even if it WAS 100 percent intentional and he wanted to die.

I think about death often. I don't want to kill myself. I really and truly don't. I never do it. But I don't want to be alive anymore. Sometimes I dream of being in an accident or having an illness that will kill me no matter what. I dream of my death not being my fault. I think that would comfort my mother. If I killed myself, I know the guilt and grief would drive her mad. After Joseph, her brother and my uncle, passed, she was never the same. And his death was a sudden, unexpected heart attack. And it still killed her inside. Knowing that there was absolutely nothing anyone could have done to save him, even if his wife had literally been standing over him with 911 on the phone, he still would have died. Shit. Even if he had been in the hospital, hooked up to machines monitoring him, he likely would have still died. They say it was quick, too. That he likely didn't know what was happening. Which hurts me. To me, that says he woke up in complete terror, not knowing what was happening to him, but knowing it was WRONG. I hope he went quickly and those thoughts didn't last long. So I do know that if I intentionally killed myself, or even accidentally OD'd like Caleb, it would absolutely crush everything about my mother. She would never be able to move on from it. But an accident? Something absolutely unavoidable? Maybe she'd handle that differently. She'd still be crushed, but knowing she couldn't have saved me might help her heal faster. She's honestly my only reason to NOT kill myself. The crushing guilt of knowing how much pain and suffering my death would cause her, I can't do that to her. And my Hazel, of course. I have to live for her. I know Studer would still take care of her, but my death would affect him, too, and I don't know if he'd be able to properly provide for her the way she needs. Also I absolutely cannot and will not leave her alone with him. I refuse. If I leave him, like I probably should, I'd take her with me. I'd move back with my mother and bring her with me. I know he would fight me on that. Even if he didn't even want her, he'd do it for spite. Just so I couldn't have her. I'd die for her, though. He would have to kill me to stop me from taking her, and I don't think he could. Oh and that would just absolutely destroy my mother. If Studer killed me? Oh man. She would never ever forgive herself. I keep making excuses. Well I can't take Hazel over there with Buster. Buster is gone now. I wouldn't have a room. My mom said the other day, my grandma was thinking of moving in to her room with her so John could have her bedroom, which would leave his bedroom open. She'd definitely make that happen for me. I just keep making excuses because deep down, I know I just plain don't want to live with my mother again. I love her, but she wouldn't let me get away with the shit I get away with here.

Though my fucking mother in law is damn sure trying her hardest to push me out. I deeply, immensely, dislike her. Especially after our little "talk" which was really just her telling me I need to clean up more. Every single thing she said just always circled back to me needing to clean up more and "carry my weight." I do clean up after myself and she damn sure didn't have the same conversation with her son, who hasn't washed a dish in years. She interrupted me often, talking over me every time I dared respond. She didn't listen to anything I had to say, just waiting for her turn to talk again. She had already made up her mind, so why bother listening to my explanations? Like when I tried, repeatedly, to tell her I have never been intentionally rude to her. That if she took something I did personally, that that was not my intention. That when she says hello or something to me when I've first woken up, my grunt in response was not intended to be rude, it was solely that I had just woken up and my brain was not yet fully functional, and that's all I could muster, a grunt. But she takes everything personally. If I'm just straight up not having a good day and am just not in a talkative mood at all, she fully believes it's because I don't want to talk to HER. No. I don't want to talk to anyone. But she likes to be the victim. She likes to think I do it only to her and am rude to her. If I'm wearing my headphones while in the kitchen cooking dinner for us, which I do often, it's because I just don't want to talk to her. No. I just like music. She'll get mad if I don't respond to her repeated attempts to speak to me, even though she 100 percent sees my gigantic blue headphones. I cannot hear her. I can't hear anything but the music I'm playing. But go ahead. Be offended. I have often heard her saying something like ANSWER ME!!! In that fucking voice she does, getting more and more irritated, during a song change or something. Which means she's been saying things the whole time and thinks I'm purposely ignoring her. Or her saying I know you hear me!! And when I say no, I actually didn't hear you. Because of the headphones. She just rolls her eyes like she didn't believe me and refuses to repeat herself.

Oh great. Of course, I'm talking about her, and she comes back home. She had been staying with a friend of hers for damn near a month, and I've got to say, it was downright heavenly to have the house to ourselves. I cooked us dinner most nights. We left our bedroom door open. I walked around in my bra and panties. Hazel needs to go out, but I'm still asleep? Fuck it, I walk to the back room in a bra and panties. Who cares? She came home for like, a day on Friday. Or well, Thursday night. But left again on Friday. Guess it's back to me wearing my Bluetooth headphones not even attached to anything, so I have an excuse to not hear her when she beckons me over to tell me some dumbass story I care nothing about. What was that? Oh can't hear you! Sorryyyy. Sometimes though that doesn't even stop her. I've faked a phone call before while walking thru the kitchen to let Hazel out. Didn't stop her from calling me over to show me some little knick knack she's had for decades. Knowing I'm on the phone. And yet continues to talk, even as I'm walking away. When she had her big speech about us getting closer and other bullshit, I legit had to pee SO BAD. I told her this. I tried heading to the bathroom multiple times. And yet. Every time I'd be like okay well I've gotta pee....she'd be like okay, but here, let me repeat everything I've just said to you, only this time, I'll put the words in a different order!! She does that a lot. I truly do not hate her. I really don't. I just don't LIKE her. I truly would never do anything intentionally rude to her. She doesn't exactly deserve that. We do live rent free in her home. But we will never be friends. And she wants us to be friends. But I just can't do it.

I have tried. I truly have. Like I said, I don't hate the woman and she's honestly never done anything to warrant me being a total bitch to her. I am always polite and respectful when I speak to her. We just will never be friends. I don't like her. I don't like her personality. I don't like her fucking voice. It's grating and shrill and triggers my misophonia. I don't like the way she treats her son, my life partner. Her daughter is clearly the favorite and she does a shit job at hiding it. She also lies about the strangest of things. Take the air fryer for example. One day, an air fryer appears on the kitchen counter. Studer says oh cool, where'd this come from? She says Danielle, his sister, let her borrow it. Oh okay. Cool. That's nice of her. I specifically made a Facebook post saying how much I enjoyed having an air fryer, and I'm so glad Danielle let us borrow it. I told my own mother. Weeks later, he says man, Danielle sure has let you borrow that for a long time. What?!?! Danielle didn't let me borrow it! I bought it on Facebook Marketplace for $5!! What? But you told me....no I didn't!!! I never said that!!! But she did, though. I heard it. He heard it. But she will swear she never did, and get extremely defensive about it when you call her out. But. Why? What was the point in lying about that? She'll tell Studer she's going out after work with "friends," but she's actually going out to dinner with Danielle and her kids. She just doesn't want Studer to join them. Because we have never ever been invited to any of the many birthday dinners or something like that. One time, we needed to go somewhere when she got home from work. We don't have a car, so we'll use hers sometimes. It was later than she usually gets home from work, so he calls her and very nicely asks when she thinks she might be home? She says she's got a meeting with her boss when she got off and will be "just a bit." Her exact words. So. Half hour goes by. Then an hour. He calls, but her phone is dead. More time passes. He starts to get legitimately worried for her. Not even concerned with the ride we needed, he's genuinely concerned for his mother, who said she'd be home soon, and is still not home two hours later and her phone is going straight to voicemail. He calls his sister. Hey have you heard from mom? She says no, but they have a location tracker app on their phones, and she says it shows her at the plasma donation place since like an hour ago. It doesn't update with the phone being off, but that's the last place it had her. We think surely she would have just said she was donating plasma, right? Now going on three hours, and she finally says she's on her way home. She gets home, and he's like dude wtf? And she acts all innocent like she has no idea why he might have been concerned. And when he explained to her dude. You could have just said you were gonna donate plasma. I wouldn't have gotten so worried. She just shrugs and says she decided "on a whim" to go donate after work. Which is bullshit, as the plasma center closes at 7, and she gets off at 7. So she had to have already made an appointment and left work early. Meaning she was already at the plasma center when he called her. She had to get there before 7, and it was like 7:30 when he called. So she lied. Again. For no reason.

Idk. I could go on forever about weird ass shit she's done. Maybe this blog can just be weird shit my mother in law does.