#saw is not fucking body horror!!! is anybody listening to me!!!!!!

[anatomical-puppet]

i need people to understand the difference between gore and body horror or i’m gonna start ripping bricks out of walls

[eisforeidolon]

Tumblr shows me such horrendous posts sometimes especially from tags like #dean winchester People genuinely with their whole chest think that he could have been saved from that rebar with a first aid kit 😂(even though he obviously couldn't plus they didn't have gods power anymore) and also thinking he gave up lol as if he hasn't said all along how he knew he'd die a hunter, wanted Sam to have a peaceful life & him dying first was best case scenario. They never listen to Dean the show or Jensen

Oof, yeah. It's been ages since I braved the main tags because - at least on tumblr - this fandom is a trashfire of bizarre and ignorant opinions. Like, just as a thought exercise, let's give the maximum benefit of the doubt possible.

I can see, to an extent, why after the light fantasy irreverence of the Dabb years, someone might be wishfully tempted to forget SPN's horror roots and think the Winchesters might not die at the end. Except Jared and Jensen made it pretty clear every time they talked about the ending that they saw the Winchesters dead at the end, one way or another. Except even when we were full on in the hunting-is-a-lark and constant resurrect-o-rama of Dabbernatural, it was still a show that revolved around monsters and death almost as much as it did the brothers' relationship. Except how do you even end a show where the characters constantly bring each other back from the dead in a way that feels significantly final other than them accepting death?

I can see, to an extent, why there would be some confusion over the severity of injuries, because the show never took them as serious as they would be IRL, Chuck or no Chuck. TV in general is pretty terrible about that. Except as much as I loathe the concept of the Winchesters only being competent and surviving because of Chuck, it was a thing in the show. Except we're talking about being stabbed fully through the main body cavity where there are a lot of pretty vital things you can't live with shish-kebabed. Even if it would have been possible to survive that injury IRL as some kind of medical miracle, it would definitely require medical professionals for him to survive getting off that rebar and they were in a barn in the middle of freakin' nowhere - being realistic is not "giving up". Except we're talking about a fictional character where the entire point was that the writers had decided Dean was going to die then, so it was a fatal injury because it was written as fatal. Except I think it's pretty obvious some fans only wanted Sam rushing around trying to do first aid to avoid 7 minutes of incest Dean's speech showing Sam was still the most important person in Dean's life to the end and he was perfectly capable of saying I love you - despite their reams upon reams of meta claiming otherwise.

I am not in any way saying anybody needs to be happy that Dean died, or even needs like the finale. I actually agree Dean's lack of self-worth and fatalism about how he'd inevitably die fighting monsters relatively young (especially when he said that in a particularly low moment) aren't good things, so him being ultimately right is actually really fucking sad. As is Sam getting the normal life he once wanted when IMO he no longer particularly wants it and it's at the expense of losing Dean after all they'd been through together. Disappointment, even disappointment one should reasonably have seen coming, is totally fair. The ending is meant to be bittersweet with the sweet part coming from the heaven reunion, and even dismissing delusional shippers? Not everybody is going to like that kind of ending. Except there's disappointment and then there's being really fucking weird about that disappointment by insisting a tv show owed you to end the way you wanted and further, it personally wronged you because no one tried to put a band-aid on a sucking chest wound. Also, a character dying from doing something dangerous and acknowledging they are dying when they get a fatal wound doing it instead of trying to insist they're okay is ... endorsing suicidal themes.

[astaroth1357]

Brothers React to the MC Looking at Them Lovingly

This is a personal experiment. This is the very first time I've written one of these with a goal in mind, "Make them fall in love all over again." It's a tall order. I hope I succeeded. 🙏 Special thanks to @a-chaotic-dumbass for picking the mood for this one!

Intro:

We all know that look. The one where one person stares at another like they just realized they're the only thing in the universe and they're in fucking awe of it. The kind of look that tells you they're utterly enthralled by that other person and just can't get enough of their presence. That look. Yeah, the brothers just got that look out of the MC.

Let's warm some cold hearts, everybody.

Lucifer

Lucifer was always beautiful. Always has been, as an angel or a demon.

A morning star is one that outshines all the rest. It stands out when the other stars have dimmed, holding onto its luster in defiance of the sun. 

There couldn't be a truer title for Lucifer to have. Not the horrors of war nor the fires of Hell could tarnish his radiance in any way…

But there were moments, like right then, where the MC caught a glimpse of a different sort of Lucifer.

His brothers would often only see the uptight Lucifer, the practiced visage of perfection that he tried so hard to keep up… 

But after a long day, when he thinks he's alone, he retires to his room to listen to his music and the difference is astonishing.

There's something so entrancingly calm about him… How the light of the fireplace flickers and dances across his alabaster skin to the subtle slouch of his posture. His face no longer marred by creases of stress and frustration… 

And his expression is so pure… So tranquil and at peace… Beauty without effort. A shine that can't be ignored. A morning star, in the truest sense of the word…

It took awhile for Lucifer to see the MC leaning against his doorframe.

They were staring at him with the oddest look… Smiling like they were enraptured by something, but he didn't have a clue why. He was just sitting there…

So, naturally, he turned to suspicion.

"Am I really that amusing…?"

Frankly, he wasn’t prepared for the little laugh they let out in response.

"Mm? No, no... I'm just always so amazed by you, is all. I'll leave you to your music..."

Having thoroughly ruined the mood, the MC then turned to leave. But Lucifer was already upon them before they could step away, wrapping his arms around their waist and letting contented hum escape his chest.

"Going so soon…?"

Apparently he appreciated the compliment.

Mammon

He didn't have to do it.

When Belphie bumped into one of the House's vases, shattering it against the tile, he didn’t have to take the fall for it.

It wasn’t connected to him at all. He could have stayed quiet and no one would have pointed a finger at him for once.

But he did.

When Mammon set his phone down on the table, MC knew instantly that he had lied in the chat.

He was with them the entire day, he didn't have the time to accidentally break a vase. He hadn't even gone down that hallway all day...

But he said something anyway.

And he didn't even look fazed. He didn't turn towards them seeking approval nor did he look irritated that Belphie didn't speak up. He didn't curse at himself for doing something so self-sacrificing either...

When Mammon leaned back into the cushion of his couch, the MC saw something truly remarkable on his face… A smile. A small one, sure, but relaxed… 

Assured in his own actions. Confident in his choice and accepting the consequences… undeserved, and likely thankless, they may be.

A genuine, serene smile…

Mammon wasn't sure what he expected to see when he turned to the MC. Probably confusion or disbelief that he, the Great Mammon, could be so selfless.

Definitely not the awed, lovestruck look he got...

"G-gah!" He panicked slightly and pressed himself back against the armrest of the couch in shock. "Wh-... What'cha lookin at me like that for??"

When the MC didn't answer after a few seconds and just kept staring, he honestly didn't know what to do. Were they broken or something??

"Oi, MC! I asked ya wh-Hey wait a minute!!"

He made a noise between a yelp and a shout when the MC leapt forward and latched their arms onto him. What had gotten into them??

"U-uh… MC? MC?? Damnit MC, answer me already!! Or at least stop squeezin so tight!!... MC!!!"

Leviathan 

To anyone else, it was just Levi being Levi.

He had finished a new episode of his latest animated obsession and he had to share it with someone. Anyone would do, but the MC was always willing to lend an ear.

Something about Levi really changes when he talks about his passions… It's like he comes alive in a whole new way.

He speaks at a mile-a-minute, but that's because he's so excited the words fly from his mouth. 

Some part of him is always bouncing, be it his leg or body. Sometimes even his tail will swish and curl behind him like an ecstatic puppy. And his eyes… 

Citrine pools that glimmer and dilate from the exhilaration of it all. It's his little world and anyone can see he's thrilled to be sharing it. 

You'd never know he was shy. You'd never think he'd look down himself. You'd never guess that he hid himself away… Why would someone so full of passion and life ever want to? Some things are just too beautiful to keep hidden...

Levi had only gotten six minutes into his latest rant before he finally registered how the MC was staring at him…

This man has seen enough shoujo to know what that look means and it shut him up sooo quick. If anyone else were in the room they would have seen a beet-red Levi desperately trying to hide his face.

"M-MC…! S-top staring at me like that…!!"

"Like what~?" 

He didn't have to look at them to hear the teasing lilt in their voice.

"MC…" He peeked out from behind his fingers to see them still staring and covered himself up more vigorously. "Stoooop…!!!"

But secretly? He wished they'd never stop. His cheeks may have been red from embarrassment, but his heart was trying to hammer its way out of his chest to hug them itself. Hell, he'd have happily given it over to them if they'd asked…

Please just let those loving eyes be for him and him alone...

Satan

Soft isn't exactly a word anybody would use to describe Satan, least of all himself.

His anger was quick to spark, his strength was nothing to scoff at, and even his smiles were nothing but plastic for nearly all of his existence…

Nearly.

The MC learned surprisingly quick that there was one thing that could bypass all of the hidden ferocity to Satan's personality. Something that could make him melt like butter in the summer sun…

Satan had always looked a little cute when he was reading. He was easily at his most expressive when engrossed in a thrilling story or deeply intrigued by something he found between the pages of a book…

But watching Satan read about cats, as he was right then, was really something else entirely.

Maybe it was the way his emerald eyes would sparkle or the lopsided grin he just couldn't hide as he would scan the pages about the playful habits of Bengals or the relaxed nature of Ragdolls…

Maybe it was the sheer impassioned dedication he took the subject, pouring countless hours into collecting and memorizing every fact he could from their diets to coat maintenance.

Or maybe it was the sheer fact that anytime he saw a picture of kitty in-print he looked like a besotted schoolgirl drawing hearts around her crush in a teen magazine.

Really, who's to say? But to the MC, it was proof that under all that anger, there was a tender, loving center even for the smallest, softest creatures…

Satan automatically snapped his book closed when he saw MC watching him from behind a bookshelves. Caught red-handed…

He knows exactly how he looks when he's doing his research internally squealing over cat pictures so he tries to do so in private...

He was about to sputter out a defensive explanation but then he registered their face…

He'd seen that look described in stories, romance novels mostly, but he'd rarely seen it in action… and never once leveled at him with such intensity…

Not to be cliche, but frankly his heart skipped a beat.

Satan forgot about his book briefly and got up to close the distance between them, tilting their chin up to keep their eyes on him.

"Like something that you see, Kitten?"

"You could say that…"

He laughed at their attempt to play coy, but let it slide just this once… Easy to do with them looking at him so amorously.

Asmodeus 

Asmo is a very popular demon. Someone so free ought to know quite a lot of people, after all.

And, of course, he had plenty of fans. He made DevilTube videos, hosted radio shows, fashion designed, and even modeled.

So it wasn't very surprising when a young demoness stopped him while he and the MC were out shopping. It wasn’t the first time he had been asked to sign autographs, but this meeting… it was different.

It was clear to them both that this girl was shy. Though she held out the paper, her eyes stayed firmly on the ground and she stumbled on her question… She likely a fan from afar, but everything about her seemed meek… unassuming.

Most people would have just gave the autograph then went on with their day. The interaction could have taken five seconds at most… but not Asmo.

He asked her name… where she was from, how she was feeling, her favorite foods, outfits, makeup, you name it. All with investment.

It was amazing to watch the shy young woman slowly open up, getting more bright and cheerful with each passing question until it evolved into a healthy conversation.

When their little meeting finally wrapped up, he gave her back the paper (now signed) but also fished out a bottle of perfume from among the mountains of bags he was carrying. He gave it to her and wouldn't hear anything to the contrary, he could always buy another.

None of his brothers ever gave Asmo enough credit for his giving nature… even if he had his own way of going about it. Though he cared so much about image and his ability to shine, he never hesitated to make sure that the people around him shined too...

Asmo waved to the fan as she scampered away and was about to  apologize to the MC when he saw their face…

The man knows this look well. He's seen it a billion times, though it was particularly cute coming from them.

"Awww MC! Taken by my beauty are you~?"

He was about ready to kiss their cheek when they responded.

"No, not your looks, Asmo… with you."

… Oh.

It was very rare to see Asmo speechless, but for a few seconds his mind seemed to take in their words… letting them fully sink in before his heart utterly melting.

Oh MC… His sweet MC!!

Asmo ended up dropping the rest of his bags just so he could properly litter his human in nuzzles and kisses, the both of them humming and giggling in delight despite their shameless PDA.

Of course it would be his MC to see that part in himself… Who else would take the time?

Beelzebub 

Food is a precious resource to Beel. For him, it's a lifeline. A good meal could save him from the brink of starvation…

But that still doesn't make him incapable of sharing from time to time.

He and the MC were walking back to the House after getting takeout from Hell's Kitchen. Beel hadn't even waited until they left the restaurant to start eating his share, spilling the smell of fresh food into the air around them…

Things were going fine on their route back until they heard whimpering behind them…

A hellhound puppy, not quite old enough to bear its fangs, seemingly followed them as they were walking… It looked like it had been out for some time and eyed their food with hungry eyes, but weak posture. Who knows when it last had a meal?

The MC was about to tug at Beel's sleeve and say something, but their demon was ahead of them this time.

A casual observer might have gawked at the sight of Gluttony kneeling down to offer such a lowly creature a sandwich. But the MC knew better. When you spend your whole life hungry, nobody more than you understands that kind of pain in someone else. 

This reaction wasn't out of character for Beel, it was elementary.

And when the puppy finished its meal and covered Beel's cheeks with appreciative licks, he just laughed and scratched behind its ears. Amethyst eyes looking more relieved at its health than disappointed he lost some of his lunch...

Food was Beel's lifeline, but kindness is what made him who he was…

When the pup finally scampered off, Beel looked over at the MC to tell them it'd be alright and saw their face…

He wasn't really sure what they were staring at… Did he have something between his teeth again?

"MC? Are you okay...?"

They laughed at him for some reason but pulled him in for a hug so they must have meant well.

"You're so sweet, Beel…"

Beel's never one to refuse a compliment so he just hugged them back, beaming.

"Thank you, MC…"

Belphegor 

To say that Belphegor tended to be on the melancholic side would be an understatement… It wasn’t that he was incapable of expressing joy, it was just harder for him to do than most. Not helped, of course, by his tendency to keep his true feelings vague and hard to pinpoint.

But on those rare occasions where he was overjoyed… Belphie could really be something special…

The MC and Belphie were attending one of Beel's games and it was a tight one… Both teams had spent most of it tied and Beel's team was running out of time to overtake that slim margin.

Belphie had always been a supporter of his twin's athletics, but this time it was tense even for him. He kept on the edge of his seat and didn't even nod off during the breaks like he normally would… The MC could just tell how nervous he was for Beel…

But right as the time was about to run out, Beel made a last minute score and sure, the whole field erupted, but Belphie? Belphie hollered.

The normally sleepy and mellow demon was on his feet in an instant and practically shredding his vocal chords in excitement. If his tail had been out, it would have been beating against the bleachers like a war-drum. And his expression?

Belphie's smile is said to stop hearts for a reason. When he puts his all into a grin it's almost like he ascends to Heaven once more, as pure as an angel's choir and as warm as a summer's breeze… Nothing in his eyes but pride and adoration for his beloved twin brother.

Truly, a heartwarming sight to behold…

Belphie didn't calm down until the rest of the crowd settled and was about to point out Beel's skill to the MC when he noticed their face.

… oh no… Why do they look so sappy…?

"You really love your brother, don't you?"

Belphie quickly hid his thoughts behind an irritated frown and plopped back down in his seat… but that didn't shield them from seeing his pink cheeks.

"Of course I do. What kind of question is that?"

He debated just joining Beel on the field to hide his embarrassment when he heard them snicker back.

"Yeah, you're right… Don't mind me."

Oh he minded. He minded a lot that he let his carefully veiled image slip like that. But thinking back to that smile on their face…?

Maybe being a little open wasn't so bad after all...

[tomurasprincess]

Explosive Consequences (Bakugou x Reader)

Pairing: Villain Bakugou x Reader Warnings: noncon, predator/prey, degradation, choking, bondage, yandere Word Count: 2k (*cries in “I can’t keep drabbles short”*) Note: A request from my AO3 which got a bit out of control, as per usual. What even is a general word count for these things? Don’t ask me!

~~~~

You realize your mistake as soon as you make it to the city center. You were running your normal patrol route as a hero when you heard explosions and thought there was a disaster. It was certainly a scene of devastation you see before you, but it was not a natural disaster as you previously thought.

It was a villain attack. Rubble from collapsing buildings was blocking the street, bodies littering the area in various stages of injury and death. Parts of the area were on fire, and walls were blackened as if there was some sort of explosion.

And that’s when you hear the noise that makes your blood run cold. It really was an explosion that took out this city block, but the distinctive noise is what really terrifies you. That noise is the activation of the explosion quirk of Katsuki Bakugou, known villain and criminal overlord.

The man used to be a hero, destined for the top of the rankings, if not number one. Nobody knew why he fell to villainy, but the immediate cost was extreme. He cut a swath of bloodshed through hero society and hadn’t been caught despite numerous attempts.

The ground shakes and the buildings nearby tremble as you hear another explosion, followed by screams of agony. Fuck, you think in horror, he’s attacking civilians. Deep down, you know you can’t handle this villain. But deep down, you also know you would hate yourself if you didn’t try, if you left civilians to die at the hands of a villain such as Bakugou.

So with determination in your heart, you go racing towards the screaming. It doesn’t take long at all before you get to where the current attack is, and you freeze in place as you stare in shock. More devastation, more bodies, and beyond all of it stands the villain himself. His back is facing away from you as he uses his quirk to propel himself down an alleyway.

You realize you have a decision to make. There seems to be no survivors in this area, nothing to be done. You could backtrack to the first area you stumbled across, the area where there were injured civilians in need of help. But you’d be letting the man responsible escape from the scene.

You think about it for only a second before your resolve strengthens. A true hero wouldn’t run from a challenge, you think, as you begin to race down the alleyway you saw him disappear into. You set a fast but controlled pace, not wanting to wear yourself out before you even catch up to him.

You listen closely for any sounds of explosions as you run, but there is an eerie silence that has overtaken the area. It is unsettling to not hear any of the usual noises of civilians, or even the previous screams for help. There is simply an utter stillness to the place that has you questioning whether this was the right idea or not.

That is when you hear a noise from behind you, and you have the horrifying realization that this was a trap. You whirl around in time to land out a kick as you activate your quirk, only for Bakugou to dodge both effortlessly with a cocky smirk across his face.

He throws his arms behind him as he activates his quirk to lunge at you, almost too quick for you to see.  You launch yourself away just barely in time, only for him to use his momentum to kick off the nearby wall.

This time, he’s too fast for you to get away from and he collides hard against your body, slamming you roughly into the wall before pressing himself against you. “And where do you think you’re going, shitty little hero,” he drawls into your ear, the word hero full of condescension.

You try to fight him off, force him to let go but his grip merely tightens, hard enough that you just know you’re going to bruise. He shoves one knee in between your legs, kicking them apart and giving you no leverage with which to kick him.

“Are you really all they sent to try and catch me,” he scoffs, “because I’m insulted.”

“I wasn’t sent by anybody.” You try to sound calm and in control, but in reality you are anything but. “My patrol is nearby and I heard the explosions.”

“Tch, just unlucky then.” He pulls away long enough to give you a once-over, his gaze appreciative of the way your tight hero suit clings to your skin. “Lucky for me though,” he grins, his expression turning heated.

“I’m sorry I chased after you,” you whisper quietly, “just let me go and I promise it won’t happen again.”

“You’re fucking right it won’t happen again,” he growls. “Because I’m going to teach shitty little extras like you why they shouldn’t try to play in the big leagues.”

He leans down to try and claim your lips in a kiss, but you swiftly jerk away, his hand behind your head the only thing keeping you from smacking against the wall. You renew your struggle to get away until his hand clamps around your neck tightly, cutting off your breath.

"If you don’t kiss me, I’ll slit your fucking throat,” he snarls into your ear, “do you understand?”

You give as much of a nod as you’re able to with his hand still wrapped around your throat, but it’s enough of an answer for him as he stops choking you in order to grab the back of your head and pull you in for a heated kiss.

You reluctantly part your lips to allow his tongue in and he takes full advantage, dominating the kiss as his hand roams down your body to cup your breast. His tongue works against yours, massaging it as he rips open the front of your hero costume. He begins to idly tweak one of your nipples as he pulls away from your mouth. “Hah, not wearing a bra, little slut? Bet you’re not wearing any panties either.”

To prove his point, he yanks at the tear he already made in your suit, completely exposing you to his gaze. “Tch, I was right.” His hand slides down to cup your naked sex. “And so fucking wet for me already,” he barks out a laugh.

“Please don’t do this,” you whimper as you feel a finger trace down your soaked folds. Your eyes are blown wide with fear, but you feel another emotion as well. Lust. As much as you hate to admit it, you want this villain in front of you.

“Hah, but I’m going to make you feel so good,” he growls into your ear as he slips a finger inside of you. You gasp and try to jerk away, but you only succeed in grinding against him. He groans and adds another finger, pushing past the tight ring of muscles at your entrance. “I am going to ruin you for anyone else, fucking hero slut.”

He begins to pump his fingers inside of you before adding another finger, stretching you out further as you let out a broken moan. You can feel your juices leaking down his fingers, and you feel ashamed for enjoying this as much as you are.

You let out a startled sqeak as he suddenly flips you around, pushing your front into the wall. The brick scrapes against your bare skin, the pain only adding on to how turned on you are.

The villain grab your arms and wraps something tightly around them, pinning your arms in place behind you. You glance around and see that he’s tied your arms together in a strong knot, ensuring even more that you won’t be able to resist him.

You hear rustling and the distinct noise of a zipper, and you turn your head around in time to see him free his cock from his pants.

Your eyes widen in appreciation at how thick he is, prominent veins running up his length and a bead of precum already leaking from the tip. You shiver at the surge of desire that goes straight to your core at the sight.

“Like what you see, slut?” He pumps his cock in his fist before guiding it to your aching core.

You open your mouth one last time to plead with him not to do this, to let you go, but he interrupts your train of thought by slamming into you in one quick thrust.

You let out a squeal from the back of you throat at the feeling of him stretching you around him. He sets a fast pace, pounding roughly into your cunt as he runs his hands over your body.

“Fuck, you feel so tight,” he grunts as he reaches around to stroke your aching clit. “You wanted this all along, didn’t you? To be caught and fucked like the slut you are.”

“N-n-no, I didn’t want this,” you whimper, but your body betrays you as your cunt clenches down around his length at his words.

“Fucking liar,” he hisses in pleasure at the feeling of you tightening around him, “I bet you’ve never been fucked by a man like me.”

The sound of his cock slamming into your sopping wet pussy fills the alleyway along with your choked gasps and moans.

“You’ve always wanted to be taken like the hero slut you are, in a dirty back alley by a villain.”  At his words, he brings his hand down to smack your ass. You bite back a scream, the pain and the pleasure all mixing together and causing your head to spin. “Admit it,” he snarls into your ear.  

You shake your head furiously as you try to control your breathing, trying to stop yourself from coming undone around his cock. But his other hand swiftly comes down across the other cheek, and this time you do scream.

“Fucking say it, slut,” he whispers in a mocking tone. “Say it and I’ll let you cum.”

Tears stream down your face as you give in. “I’m a hero slut,” you whimper.

“Louder.”

“I’m a hero slut,”‘ you scream.

“Good fucking girl,” he growls as his pace increases. He grabs your bound arms and uses them as leverage to pound your dripping cunt even harder.

The feeling of his balls slapping against your clit have you quickly nearing your end, your body on fire from all the stimulation. He must feel that you’re close as his thumb rubs even faster against your throbbing bead.

“Cum for me,” he commands, and you find yourself instantly obeying. You squeal as you clamp down hard around his cock, your orgasm crashing hard around you.

He groans low in his throat, the fluttering of your tight cunt around his length causing him to find his own end. Hot ropes of cum fill you up, and he holds you in place as he empties his balls inside of you.

He pulls out of you with a hiss, letting you drop to the alleyway floor. You feel boneless and weak from the chase and your intense orgasm, and you slump down hard.

“Hah, that was fun.” He adjusts his cock back into his pants before zipping back up. “You’re not going to kill me?” Your face must show confusion, because he chuckles.

“Oh, hero, of course not.” He flashes a feral grin at you. “I’m not done with you yet.” He turns away, starting to walk out of the alleyway before calling out one last thing. “Be seeing you.”

You don't know if you feel relief or fear at the thought of seeing him again. I really am a hero slut, you think, as you watch him walk away, leaving you laying on the floor of a dirty alleyway with the cum of a villain dripping out of you.

~~~~

Taglist: @lady-bakuhoe, @bratwritings, @thewheezingwyvern, @animewh0re, @heyybrittannia​, @yaoyorozuwrites, @redbeanteax, @dee-madwriter, @lildreamer93 @kittygonyan, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love, @daedaep69, @mimikarasu, @groovydreamertrash, @cutesuki--bakugou​, @420bakubaby, @mrs-kirishima, @mrs-takami-keigo, @hisoknen

[wyn-n-tonic]

Golden, Like Daylight -- Part I

Word Count: 1,314 Warnings: PTSD. Drug use. As always, if I forgot anything, please message me and I will amend this warning ASAP. Note: In my head canon, Frankie has a daughter, I write a bit about this. I understand talking about babies can be triggering or people just don't like kids but it feels weird to say, "Warning: Baby." Feels a bit ominous. Like, it's not a vampire but just... ya know... be warned. Updated Author's Note (5.7.21): This is not a reader insert. At the time of writing this, I wasn't comfortable writing in the second person nor did I feel as though it was appropriate for what I wanted to explore in this series. This series is my absolute baby and it means so much to me. Thank you for reading. 

MASTERLIST | PART: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX

It comes like lightning in the night, cracking through the tree of his spine heavy with years of hurt.

The first time he was tear gassed in the chambers at boot camp.

That time he crashed the chopper, losing twenty-something men all twenty-something years old. Men… they weren’t men. They were babies, he was a baby.

He remembers the time he had a panic attack in the jungle, squeezing involuntarily on… a kid, not the target.

He remembers the woman’s wail, “¡Mi hijo! ¡Mi bebé!”

My son! My baby!

He killed her baby.

“I killed the baby!” He’s up but his heart’s somewhere else, outside his body. It’s beating so fast he can’t even feel it anymore, not sure if he feels anything anymore and then—

Cool hands on his feverish back, he’s so hot she feels like ice and he sighs contentedly. Marrying the coldest girl in all of Texas had its perks. Her fingers wind into his too long curls at the base of his neck, her lips on his shoulder as she shushes him with a kiss.

“Come back to me, Francisco, you’re safe.”

“But I—“ he’s stuttering. Fuck.

“It wasn’t your fault,” her arms curl around his chest and she’s scooting closer to him now, pulling him into her as hard as she can, “None of it was your fault, it’s okay.”

“How can you say that?” The tears come like wildfire as he chokes out, “How can you hold me like this? Like I’m not a monster?”

Her arms pull tighter against his torso, he didn’t know that was possible. He doesn’t know how this is possible, how he deserved this. This woman, this love, this family she had made for him.

“Baby, listen to me,” her voice is hard and warm, honeyed whiskey to his aching ears. Splintered mind. Broken body.

He nods his head in the dark, whispering a soft, “Yes,” around a lump like coal burning through his neck.

“You are not a monster. The things you did, the things you saw, the horror that was inflicted upon you was not your choice. When you put the flag on your shoulder, Francisco Morales, you gave up autonomy in your decisions. You represented men who played chess with your life and you made it out. You made it out and they threw you away when you needed them the most but I’m not going to. Our daughter is not going to. You are not a monster, baby, and we will get through this together.”

“Luna,” he breathes. His girl, his perfect little girl, “Where is she? Is she okay?” He’s still panicked.

“She's in her crib, baby,” her lips press softly to his shoulder again, “Do you want to go see her? Wanna go make sure she’s okay with me?”

He’s nodding again, untangling fingers from hers to swipe at his cheeks quickly. Afraid, every day, that this tear or that will be the one that changes her mind, changes her heart.

She lifts herself, holding steady to his shaking body the whole time. As if he’s the rock that the storm of her life batters against and not the other way around. Her hands find his and she’s lifting him too. His balance is unreliable, he never lets her go, trailing along the hallway to the baby’s room.

It’s quiet, peaceful. His happiest place, painted like a sunrise. He wanted it that way, clouds around her cradle, his baby growing up in the heavens. He remembers the first time he ever went up there, like it was the first breath he ever took. All rising pinks and melting blues.

He wanted her to feel that freedom from the very beginning. —————

He was so fucking scared when she came into this world.

He was afraid of marring her innocence with his past. He didn’t want his traumas to manifest upon her upbringing, the way his father’s had his.

That first cry shattered his heart but when she wrapped her tiny hand around his finger, he was whole again.

They named her Luna, because he could always find the moon above the clouds. Could always find his way home.

That’s when he started using again. His fear of fatherhood choke holding him, undoing all his hard work. His therapy, his group therapy, his NarcAnon. He promised himself it would just be once.

Just to get through the day, Frankie.

And it turned into…

The week.

The month.

Six.

Next thing he knew, he was flying high and fucking up. Nose bleeds and slurred words, too fast movements and too fast reactions. He was randomly selected for a drug test.

His license was suspended. He was grounded, under review pending cleanliness of a piss test.

That’s when Leah snapped. His patient, strong wife. She’d said things here and there about his use. Argued about money, “Where's it going, Francisco?” The name she uses when she’s calling him back to her, pulling him into her or, like now, close to killing him. Eyes wide with anger and fear at watching her family fall apart because of the actions of one man.

“I'm not going to beg you to get clean. I am telling you,” the tears streaking down her face, voice raw with contained rage bubbling to the surface, “You were able to do it by yourself once, so get your shit together. Or I swear to god, Francisco Morales, I will walk out that door.”

His eyes haven’t left hers the whole time and he knows she’s serious. She promised she wouldn’t leave a man actively working against his ghosts, she’s soothed more sleepless nights than anybody should’ve, but she never promised to stay through active drug addiction. Could not. Would not bring her daughter up in a home dusted in white powder.

He nods, “okay,” lifting his hat from his head and he is pouring buckets. He’s coming down from earlier but he knows he’s gonna need more soon. And another after that. So on and so on until—

He sees the door slamming on an empty home, shocked still with the future his actions will lead him to.

“I’ll find a meeting tomorrow.”

Her glare bores deep, “you’ll find a meeting today, Frankie.”

He bites his lip, not daring ask for another hit to get through til then.

“Francisco!”

The world comes back into focus. How long had he been staring at everything and nothing? His eyes find hers again and his voice is weak as he says, “My stash is in the box with my dog tags and medals, my first pilot’s license.”

“I know.”

He’s nodding again, of course she does.

“The withdrawals are going to start soon, how should we handle this?”

She crosses her arms, pain stitched through every feature of her face, “I think you should stay with Benny and Will for a while. Until you’re clean.”

So he did.

One week goes by and he sweats with a restlessness he’s sure will bust the very seams of his being.

Two weeks and all he wants is sleep, even with the nightmares.

Three weeks and, Jesus fuck, he’s hungry.

Four weeks and the depression sets in, deeper than he’s experienced since he first started getting help back in civilian life.

Five weeks and he’s… not cold anymore. He doesn’t sweat. He doesn’t feel anything, he can’t concentrate on anything.

Can’t focus on Benny’s shitty fight lessons. Doesn’t even listen when Will practices that fucking speech like he hasn’t given it a million times already; to cadets, to soldiers, to the mirror. The only things he can think about, the only things he cares about, are still too far away.

Leah, Luna, the sky.

He needs all three to be whole.

To be Frankie.

A desperate man aching to be complete and to provide again.

That’s how Santiago Garcia found him.

TAG LIST: @greeneyedblondie44​ @justanotherblonde23​ 

[otptings]

Countless Moons

-Idol; Niki

-Word Count; 3k+

-Genre; 13+, angst , two endings (one horror, one ambiguous fluff)

-Warnings; detailed death, blood, cussing, aged up Niki, mentions of eating disorder, descriptions of grief multiple breakdowns, mentions of vomiting, self harm, insanity

-Synopsis; 2 years ago you witnessed your boyfriends death firsthand. Now after his 2 year death anniversary weird occurrences have started happening.

-A/n - here is my warning, this has a really detailed death scene that caused me to become choked up while writing this. if you do not think you can handle that please do not read this. requests are open for Enhypen (super small print is a dream, italics are flashbacks)

"I'm sorry."

Tears dripped down your cheeks. Fat and warm as they landed on your hands that you were wringing. Staring at the gravestone in front of you.

Riki Nishimura.

December 9th 2005- November 30th 2020.

Gone too soon.

It was the second anniversary. That means two years. Two years since you've witnessed him get hit by a car. When you thought too long about it you could remember that day perfectly.

That dreaded day.

Seeing his purple hair and the pout on his face after he had gotten lectured by the soccer coach because of it. The sun beating down on you, warming you despite the cold breeze that threatened to force you to put on a jacket. Niki's jacket that he always left for you just in case. Watching as he dribbled the ball, confidence displayed on his face as he kicked it toward the goal. Tossing his arm over K's shoulder as he cheered, turning to face you. Raising his fist, a smile on your face as you happily cheered for him.

Tugging said jacket closer around your body as another cold breeze brushed by. The clouded sky only made the day more dismal. Knowing that not even the sun would shine on you, as if it knew what this day meant.

"I should've listened to you," You wiped away your tears releasing a shaky laugh, "If I was more careful you would never had have to run after me."

The gravel digging into your knees and palm. Hearing your jeans rip as you hit the ground. Turning around in time to see the car hitting Niki. You could hear crunches, and a thud as he hit the ground. A blood curling scream was heard, but you don't know if it was from you or Niki. The driver of the car veered into a tree, who you later found out was drunk, passing out against the wheel.

The horn blared as you ran over to Niki, placing his head in your lap. His purple hair appearing red faintly, his eyes fluttering shut. Begging him to stay awake, tears blurring your vision as you cupped his cheek . Eyes widening you say blood dripping from his forehead.

So much blood.

The crimson liquid spilling around his body, seeping into your clothes as you held him closely. Looking around you saw bystanders staring on in disbelief, watching as you cried over his body in the middle of the street.

By the time the ambulance showed up Niki had stopped breathing. More screams and tears leaving you as the paramedics pulled you off of his body. One of them wrapped a silver blanket around you, another called your parents. You watched as they attempted to revive Niki.

They weren't successful.

His time of death was 5:37 pm.

"I wish you were here with me. I still sleep with the teddy bear your mom gave me, the one that used to be yours." A bitter sweet memory, his mom coming to your house with tears in her eyes. Handing you a box of his belongs. She hugged you tightly, muttering a sorry, before giving you her number. That was 2 years ago, before they moved to Osaka.

You couldn't blame her.

The box was precious to you. Filled with various teddy bears that he had around his room, various assortment of clothes, and letters that he had written you.

Goosebumps erupted over your skin as you felt eyes on you. Was someone watching you? Raking your eyes over the tree line, you thought you saw a glimpse of purple. Chills ran through you. It was time to leave anyway, it was past 7 pm.

Placing the narcissus flower on his grave, you stood up not bothered by the grass stains on your jeans. Pulling the jacket closer to your body, you headed to the gateway of the graveyard.

As you approached the archway you felt an urge to turn around. It was strong, like someone whispering it directly in your ear. Glancing over your shoulder you saw someone crouching over his grave, exactly where you were mere moments ago. The flower you placed in the figures hand as they stood up. An involuntary gasp left your mouth, and then the figure was gone. Vanishing into thin air.

"Niki?"

-

The sun beamed down on him reflecting his silver hair as he stepped into the river. Niki turned to you with a giant smile on his face, his hand up covering his eyes from the son. Strangely you couldn't make out his eyes. You let out a laugh watching as the bottom of his jeans got soaked by the water where he hadn't pulled them high enough. He looked down at the flowing water, a pout on his lips.

The water seemed to continue rising, as fear shown in his eyes. Just like the day the car hit him. You tried to scream at him, tell him to get out of the water, but no words left your mouth. A wave rose out of the water and hit Niki. A gurgled noise filled the air as you ran to the river. You ran into the river, desperately looking for him when you something grab your leg and yank you under the water. You were met by dark red eyes, and a fanged smile.

He let out a laugh as the water filled your lungs. When your vision started to get blurry he whispered in your ear.

"Be back soon love."

-

No fucking way. Your stomach dropped as you read the text.

Niki Niki 💞

Hi baby

Your hand shook as you quickly blocked the number. This was a sick fucking joke. Nausea flooded your stomach, and you felt bile rise in your throat. Dropping to your knees you started to get choked up. Covering your mouth you tried to quiet the sobs leaving your mouth.

Who the fuck would hack a dead persons phone? Why would you think that was okay?

Seeing Niki's contact appear made your heart drop. Memories flashed through your mind.

His face lighting up after the goal, when he looked at you in the bleachers and knew that he wanted to make you proud. His smile shining brighter than the sun. Whining when he pulled you into his arms after, laughing as he rubbed his sweaty cheek against yours. His hair stuck to his forehead when he leaned down to you, placing a kiss on your cheek.

Hearing the sound of his body hitting the ground. Holding him tightly to your body, begging anybody to help you. Feeling his blood soaking through your jeans, sticking them to your skin like paper mache. Watching him open his mouth as he tried to talk to you. The panic in his eyes as his breathing got more ragged. A gurgling noise presenting itself as his lungs filled with blood. Seeing his eyes becoming glazed over as you held him to your chest, begging him to stay awake.

You should've held him tighter that day. Kissed him a little harder. Not bothered worrying about his sweaty jersey. Just cherished the time that you spent with him.

Unknown

this looks weird I know but please listen to me

meet me in the place where we first met

I need to see you love

-

Tears streamed down your face as you held your legs close to your chest. Your skirt was covered in mud and grass stains. The bottom of it was torn where it had snagged when you tried to run away from them. Quiet cries left your mouth as you hid under the bleachers, praying that the bullies would leave you alone. You covered your mouth as you heard them getting closer, chants of your names.

"Come out piglet."

"Yea piglet. You love to play in the mud right?"

"Come out come out piglet." Their laughter got quieter as they walked further away. You slowly relaxed. You just had to wait out here til the bell rung. Only flaw in your plan was that you had no clue what time it was.

"Are you okay?" You jumped pulling your legs closer as you heard someone. Turning to your right you saw a boy with dark brown hair, hanging shaggily over his eyes. He held out his hand, attempting to help you stand up. When he realized you weren't gonna grab it he sat down beside you, not caring about the mud getting on his clean uniform. "My names Niki. What's yours?"

Niki didn't seem bothered at your silence. Taking off his jacket he handed it to you.

"I see your uniforms dirty. You can wear my jacket for the day if you like." Reluctantly you took his jacket, slipping it over your arms as he watched you with a smile. You stared at him weirdly as the bell finally run. Recess was over and you had successfully escaped your bullies.

Standing up Niki held his hand out to you again. This time you took it.

"Thank you." His smile only grew larger.

"Of course. I think we're gonna be friends."

-

"This is fucking stupid." Your words got sucked into the quiet of the night. You knew the Niki was dead. You witnessed his death. Held him in your arms as he died and choked on his own blood. Even spoke a eulogy for his funeral. He was dead as doorknob.

Here you were though. Pacing back and forth underneath of the bleachers. Sneakers crunching the dry grass. It was the middle of December. Instead of studying I was waiting to see who hacked my dead boyfriend's phone.

And what specifically was I waiting for? To have them appear then force them to apologize? They have no morals if they could hack a dead teen's number. What makes me think that any useful would happen from this.

"Fuck!" You growled as you crouched down, tears burning at our eyes. "He's not fucking coming back." You tried to convince yourself. "Everyday was supposed to get easier without you, but they're only getting worst and worst." An uncontrollable wail left your lips. You grabbed your hair, pulling it as you tried to ground yourself.

Nothing made sense anymore. Niki died at 15. It's been 2 years and you're still holding on to him.

"He isn't coming back." You wiped your tears with the sleeve of the hoodie, sniffling as you stood up.

"Who's not coming back?" Whirling around your mouth went dry. A gasp left your mouth as dizziness overcame you. "Are you okay? You look pale."

Him screaming your name was the last thing that you heard before you fainted.

-

"How could you bring her here? She has no fucking clue?"

"And leave her there?"

"He's right this is the best choice."

"Bringing her here is dangerous for all of us. Especially here."

"If you guys even touch her I'll kill you."

"We would never."

"What if she finds out what you are?"

-

Your eyes flickered open at the sound of harsh whisperings. Sitting up slowly you looked around the room. It was a stereotypical boys room, posters on the wall and clothes scattered across the floor. Turning to the nightstand something caught your eye. Picking up the picture frame you saw it was a picture of you and Niki.

Freshman year homecoming. First dance since you started dating, almost 5 years after you met for the first time. Our parents forced us to take pictures, changing up our poses every couple of photos. This was ironically the most hated one from that day.

The sun was blazing, beaming down as your parents snapped photo after photo. His arms wrapped around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder. He whispered jokes into your ears, causing laughs to flow freely. Every picture was almost the same. Niki's lips close to your ear, a wide smile on your face as you laughed.

Tears started to blur your vision as you set the picture frame down, albeit with a little bit of a thunk. The whispers went quiet outside, obviously they all had heard it. Someone turned the doorknob with a click before pushing it open, peeking their head in. Light in the hallway shone behind them, obscuring their face. They closed the door quickly, the whispers starting back up.

What the fuck was happening? You pulled your knees to your chest, pulling the blanket tighter around your body. This had to be another nightmare. Yea. Just a silly little dream. Where my dead boyfriend rose from the dead, texted me, and then took me to some strange house. Of course totally normal dream behavior.

Suddenly someone quickly stepped into the room, closing the door behind them with a resolute thud. You threw your hand over your eyes, covering them from the harsh light that abruptly turned on. Blinking a few items, you looked at the person as your vision cleared.

"This is a sick dream." Tilting his head to the side Niki started to walk over to you. Throwing your hands up you stopped him in his tracks. "Stay the fuck away. You are not Niki. I saw him die." His face softened as he stood in the middle of the room, brown eyes showing sadness.

"I am Niki."

"You're fucking not! I saw him die! I held him as he fucking died!" He jumped at your screams, looking taken aback as tears streamed down your face.

"Love. Please let me explain."

"Don't fucking call me that! Only Niki can call me that!" With a sob you curled yourself into a ball. Praying for this nightmare to end. There is no way Niki is alive.

Thud. Warm blood. Gurgle.

Thud. Warm blood. Gurgle.

He was dead.

Dead.

Dead.

Dead.

Another guttural sob left your mouth, holding yourself tighter in hopes that you could just disappear. You flinched as you felt at the feeling of getting touched, a hand placing itself on back. He rubbed soothing circles as he whispered into your ear, words reassuring you that it was truly him.

"I'm sorry love." At the sound of that, overwhelming thoughts to go to sleep flooded your mind. You opened your eyes, confused at what was happening as you gripped onto Niki's shirt. An apologetic look on his face before everything went black for the second time that night.

-

"I know that you pity me. Some of you feel bad because of what I witnessed. The death of my best-friend, and boyfriend. But you shouldn't. I've known him 5 years but he has made the greatest impact on me. I look at everything in a positive light because of him. I work my hardest because he constantly encouraged me to. Niki was the best person that I know and I feel as if we should all live in his honor. I'm happy that he isn't suffering. I know that Niki is happy wherever he is. And if there is a Heaven he is definitely there. Niki if you can hear me I love you. I'm so grateful that I got to know you. I'll be with you again someday. The sun will shine on us again."

-

Niki Niki💞

I took the liberty of unblocking my number

when you wake up please text me

if you give me the chance I will explain everything

Love🦦

hurry

-

Here we were. Niki sitting on the opposite side of the bed from, just looking at you. Apart of you wished that this was real. That Niki was really in front of you. Drinking in his appearance you let a sigh leave your mouth.

Niki was in front of you.

His hair hung messily in his face, now grey instead of his signature purple at the time of his 'death'. Every other part of him looked normal. A hoodie hanging off of his skin frame, the same one that he wore for soccer practice with his jersey number on the back. He hasn't aged a day.

"I know you're confused," His voice broke the silence, seemingly the only thing that has changed. Having heard it multiple times you hadn't realized that it had gotten deeper, "please just let me explain. If you want nothing to do with me afterwards I'll let you go. I just missed you."

He ran his fingers through hair, before pulling the hoodie over his head. A nervous trait of his. It's nice to see that some things never change.

"I died. I remember the fear that I had that day, how you held me tightly in your arms, choking on my own blood. I remember all of it, and I truly did die." You stared at him, more confusion after part of his explanation than you had before.

"I was scared when I woke up here. I had all of the memories of my death, but woke up with no scars. No physical sign of the accident. Heeseung was the one that comforted me. He told me that I was chosen. Talked about fate's arrows and connecting two worlds. My memory of the speech is hazy after two years." Scooting closer to you he grabbed one of your hands, intertwining your fingers.

"You've been here this whole time?" Regret shone in his eyes as he nodded, "Why didn't you tell me?" His face dropped at your voice. Desperation was clear in the way that your voice cracked.

"I couldn't. They told me I would put in danger. That you would reject what I am now."

Niki cupped your cheek wiping your stray tears. Sighing you nuzzled your face into his palm. His hand was cold. The same coldness that filled you for years after his death.

"I missed you so much. I fought myself day and night. I needed you too. I'm sorry love."

All the nights filled with tears, sobbing until your throat was sore and your head felt like it would explode from the pressure. School days filled with people staring, whispering to each other about the poor girl that witnessed her boyfriends death. Bile rising in your throat every time you ate, thoughts of Niki bleeding out in your arms, remembering scrubbing the blood off of you in the shower. You never could keep food down, rushing to the bathroom after every meal. Tears flooding your eyes as you gagged, constant flashbacks.

But Niki is here. In front of you. His hand cupping your cheek, whispering apologies into the air between you. Maybe everything would be okay.

-

It's been two years. Two years since you've found out that Niki was still alive. As a vampire, but 'alive' nonetheless.

Leaving town was always your plan. After Niki's death what was left for you in Okayama? You always thought about going to South Korea, or maybe even to America. Somewhere to get a full fresh start. Not being known as the dead boy's girlfriend. Who wasted away due to grief. Who died 3 years after his death, a brutal suicide that raked the town.

You were the real Romeo and Juliet. Two young lovers separated at 15, death forcing them to part. You never recovered from his death, so at 18 you followed him. After your funeral your family left town, not being able to bare the pain.

It was a fresh start for you. And Niki.

Your love Niki. Who laid now on your chest as you watched a movie, a cult classic funnily enough. The other members spread out on various couches. Looking down at Niki you ran your fingers through his hair, a sigh leaving his mouth as he relaxed. Grabbing your other hand Niki placed a kiss on it, a smile blossoming across your lips.

In the dead of winter, under countless moons you were together again.

-

thank you for reading this, I really hoped that you enjoyed it. I tried to make it the ending as fluffy as possible without ruining the vibe I had going for the whole oneshot. underneath of this is the alternate ending if you want to go insane read it. it does contain mentions of insanity, and self harm. you have been warned

-

It's been two years. Two years since you've found out that Niki was still alive. As a vampire, but 'alive' nonetheless.

Leaving town was always your plan. After Niki's death what was left for you in Okayama? You always thought about going to South Korea, or maybe even to America. Somewhere to get a full fresh start. Not being known as the dead boy's girlfriend. Who wasted away due to grief. Who died 3 years after his death, a brutal suicide that raked the town.

You were the real Romeo and Juliet. Two young lovers separated at 15, death forcing them to part. You never recovered from his death, so at 18 you followed him. After your funeral your family left town, not being able to bear the pain.

That’s what your parents told everyone at least.

The truth is police found you under the bleachers, writhing on the ground as you nonsensically spouted about vampires and curses. Telling everyone who listened how Niki was still alive. They would tut, turning around while mentioning how the accident affected you. Ruining you mentally. Your parents' concerns only grew when you would speak to the thin air. Claiming it was Niki. That he missed them, and wished they would allow him in the house.

You would claw at yourself to ‘feed’ Niki, blood dripping from your arms. It came to a halt when your parents walked into the house, crimson surrounding your mouth as you happily told them you had turned. You were now a vampire. You could now be with Niki forever.

They shipped you to the farthest asylum. One in Virginia, hidden away in the mountains. Far are from them. Far away from Niki.

Maybe after countless moons you’ll meet again one day. When the insanity no longer claimed your mind, and shrouded your reality.

[slutsofren]

Danger Days Chapter 9: Give ‘em Hell Kid

summary: after taking care of the stragglers, you make way to find Ellie amidst of all the chaos that follows her and you come face to face with a blast from the past

word count: 2,754 im gonna make up for all these short chapters i swear!!

content warnings: blood mention (i mean c'mon y'all know exactly what this fic is), animal death, somebody gets murdered a bit violently

notes: just wanna say a little thank you for all the recent influx of subs/bookmarks/comments/kudos/follows on here and on ao3, y'all warm my heart. also, the next few chapters will deviate from the tlou timeline to make way for some angst :^))))

read on ao3 here / masterlist

Your lungs were burning with each breath. Huffs escaped you. Aches filtered through your body. Running, chasing, fighting. Ellie was in deep shit and you prayed she was alright. Following after her path, you tracked your girl.

It didn’t take much to figure out which way Ellie went, between the very obvious messy shoe prints of the men chasing after her and the hoof-marks. It made finding her all that much easier. You trekked through the slosh of the muddied snow until you came across a striking stain of red. Your steps faltered and you took the sight in, the sight of blood in between all the white and brown that overlooked a small cliff. Stopping dead in your tracks, your breath hitched as you peered over.

A gasp in horror escaped you when you saw the lifeless body of dear Callus. Quickly jumping, you dropped from the ledge he was under and landed on your knees with a harsh ‘oomph’. The pain tingled up to your spine.

Scrambling up to check on Callus, looking for any sign Ellie was hurt only to find none. You brushed the dark hair on the horse, “I’m sorry Callus.” Mentally sending an apology to Cherry too. She was going to be sad when she hears but if anything, she’d take the apology in exacting revenge on his murderers.

Kneeling on the cold ground, you sent a silent wish to the stars, wishing that Callus will be taken care off wherever he is, noting how he was such a good horse, how he will be greatly missed but was certainly loved. He may have been just a horse, but even then, horses were smart and sentient. He knew.

Just as you finished your well-wishes, the horror quickly engulfed your mind. The worry grew for just a moment as you continued on the path, leaving the dear horse behind until you stumbled upon dead body after dead body, all leading in a patch down to a lake then to a little cabin, long since forgotten shops, and up the stairs to some sort of lakeside hotel, anger finally settling in your bones.

You found yourself following a trail of blood, gore, and footsteps, pride warming in your chest. That’s my girl, you silently praised. You drew a knife and a gun, as you approached what looked to be some lakeside market, too many hidey holes to walk through here confidently. Nevertheless, you marched on.

The path led you to an abandoned lodge overlooking the lake but no sign of Ellie, just more dead bodies of those bastards.

It would have been a beautiful sight long ago, in the time before. Now it was an empty and hollow shell of its former self, littered with gore.

Even shuffling as quickly as you could through the main hall of the resort yielded nothing to finding your dear young companion, not as the sun was really setting low. Had that much time passed, you thought worriedly.

You kicked an overturned table and groaned loudly, not giving a shit if somebody heard you. Letting yourself be mad for just a moment before taking a deep breath and exhaling. At this point, you weren’t sure if you’d want to move stealthy, try and make as much noise as possible just to take some of the heat off your girl.

Frustrated still, you left the resort and circled outside to locate another set of footsteps, likely of them chasing after her. It looked almost as if there was a small fucking army chasing her but still, you didn’t spot anybody. Much to your chagrin.

Taking off once more, you cursed as the visibility lowered. The snow was progressively picking up all around you causing some of the footsteps to slowly disappear.

It was swirling around in a thick blanket in the air, covering the footsteps you had been following. It felt like you were running against the clock and you took off running, focused on the remaining trail until you heard it.

Loud and metallic. A bell. Faint but there. A city center with a tolling bell possibly?

You didn't think twice about changing your direction and moving faster through the storm.

Motivated even more so, you continued on this path, following the chime until you came into view of a cheap haphazardly thrown together defense wall. Ducking behind a nearby structure, you looked on, assessing it as best you could with the little visibility you had.

Faintly, you could make out concrete walls with some barbaric barbed wire thrown lazily against it, many many weaknesses here and there. Most importantly, you noticed there was nobody manning the walls.

You ran and ducked every so often, listening for voices but finding none. Instead, you followed the bloodied trail Ellie left behind her. It was almost like a taunt to the others in this community, or maybe even a gumdrop-like trail for you, screaming ‘come find me’. Whatever it was, only a mark of design by the tough kid wanting nothing but to simply stay alive.

Pocketing your weapons, you took a few steps back then ran.

It was almost too easy to just jump the fence but you did, after hesitating ever so slightly. Your breaths were now heavy huffs, your lungs were cursing you to stop but you refused to, not when Ellie was in danger.

Then, arming yourself with your knives you tried to make your way through the town as stealthy as possible. Only taking out whoever was in your path but aiming not to make a spectacle before you could locate Ellie within this town.

Every time you took down one of those gruesome bastards, you didn’t dare to stop and search them. Your only goal was to find Ellie. You could hear the men talking about her and how she got away, sparking pride within you once more as you took off, following the chaos she left in her wake. Noting how some of the bodies were still warm, their leaked blood still sticky.

Turning the corner of a mechanics garage, a loud thunderous snap echoed through the area. 

Startled, you pulled back into a crouch and watched as a large fire erupted in the distance. That spark of hope igniting as bright as the fire, signaling Ellie fighting back like hell. 

“Shit,” you sighed trying to catch your breath. You rose to your feet and took off faster now, headed towards the explosion.

Off through the thick sheet of snow, you could faintly make out a large sign above a dinner, displaying the name Todd’s across it. You could hear somebody yelling from inside and aimed for it, the fire barely catching your attention.

Time was running against you, as it always did. The fire grew hotter, the building more dangerous. These were the least of your worries.

You were beyond frustrated as you circled the building, aside from the very obvious and intentional door being lit on fire that was growing at a rapid pace, there were no other entrances you could see aside from a dozen unbroken windows. 

It took a couple tries to find an entrance that was viable, feeling like you were running out of time as the male voice from inside grew louder, as you could hear bullets fly just as the man was yelling. Thankfully you did find a cracked window.

Judging by the amount of noise already happening inside and assessing the risk, you figured breaking it wouldn’t alert anybody so you did just that and crawled through, doing your best not to scrape your knees.

Gaining your footing, you looked around and saw you were in some sort of kitchen for the diner. There were large stainless steel surfaces, looking moderately clean. That’s not what got your attention, but the screaming match happening in the dining area.

It took you a minute but you got close to the ground, snapping to the corner as to not give away your position, not as you saw a large man with a beard towering over a small figure- Ellie.

Your brows furrowed in anger as you ran, planning on tackling this man but he was knocked over to the side as Ellie wacked at him endlessly with a machete, hacking him to death. Overkill.

One, two, three. Each swing she grew more and more violent,

Yelling for her to stop, she continued her attack, until you grabbed her against her back, holding her close to stop her. She tried to fight against you, almost throwing you to the ground. “I got you, sweetheart, I got you.” Petting her hair, trying to calm her down, she recognized your voice and she slumped in your arms.

You were exhausted, the adrenaline slowly leaving your blood gave way to the roaring pain in your lungs and muscles. Surely you’d be sore for the coming days. Even so, the pain would have been nothing next to losing either Joel or Ellie.

The two of you stayed like that, holed up in a grimey embrace for a few moments. You repeatedly ran your fingers through her tangled up brown hair as she hiccupped the last of her sobs into your coat. The only sounds permeating the moment were of Ellie and the fire.

Fuck. The fire.

Just as you realized the predicament the two of you were in, the blackened smoke scratched and irritated your eyes, throat, and lungs. It was suffocating you and doing worse to Ellie,

If it weren’t for the raging blaze that was spreading, you would have left much sooner. “Sweetheart, I think it’s time to go.”

Ellie didn’t respond and you were about to repeat yourself until you heard heavy footfalls behind you. Moving the distraught and distracted teen slightly, you drew one of your guns and aimed, about to shoot but were stopped when you took notice of just who was standing there, palms up in defense.

Joel.

Joel was alive, right there.

Ellie recognized him before you could even register what was happening. She jumped out of your arms into his, babbling about David and crying once more. He calmed her, mumbling “Oh, baby girl… It’s okay, it’s okay.”

You watched from the floor as he tried to wipe the blood from her tear stained cheeks, barely keeping your own shit together.

“C’mon,” he said, not looking at you, “let’s get outta here.”

You rose from your haunches, swaying just a little at the inner emotional whirlwind you were facing mixed on top of the physical toll you were feeling. You watched as Joel put his arm around Ellie, walking her out the way he came in. Both of them were limping slightly. Following the two of them, you kicked the dead man just once as Joel led you both out of the burning building to your horse, Whiskey.

He turned around to say something but cut himself off, taking in the sight of you. “Shit, Are you okay?”

You followed his gaze to where your clothes were coated in a disastrous mixture of blood, dirt, and stars know what else. “It’s not mine.”

He looked like he wanted to look you over but he focused on Ellie instead, giving her a helping hand onto the horse. Joel gestured for you to get on behind her but you shook him off, “No. I’ll meet you back at the house.”

“If you don’t get on the goddamned-,” he began to argue but you shut him down.

“I’m not going to fuckin’ argue with you right now.” You checked over your horse, noticing how Joel didn’t bring anything then approached Ellie, “Hey, sweetheart. Think you can handle leading Whiskey and Joel back to the house?”

She wiped away her tears and nodded, “I think so.”

“Good. I’ll see you there soon.”

Joel opened his mouth to counter you but you stood up to him, on your toes. You had grabbed his jacket and pulled him close, getting in his face. “You take our girl back to the fuckin’ house and you make sure neither you nor her go off the rails or so help me, I will finish what that rebar started and end you. Got it?”

You were tired, you were angry, you were relieved. But most of all, you were pissed the fuck off. Not necessarily at him but at, well, at everything. Being this troupe’s sole caretaker for the past few weeks was taking its toll.

Just as you got into his face, he got into yours. At only a hair's breadth away he threatened you all the same, “You do not get to be angry with me, you do not get to push me around, got it?”

His brown eyes bore into yours, you could see he was more exhausted than anything but you were not going to let him be the judge of what happens next. “Fuck you, Joel Miller. We saved your life, hell, I saved your life. You owe me. Now you’re going to get on that fucking horse with Ellie and you are going to the safe house and we are leaving this goddamned shithole. Together. In one piece.”

“Please, Joel, let’s get out of here,” Ellie’s weak voice interrupted. 

The near-dyin’ old bastard opened his mouth to counter you again but decided against it. Most likely for Ellie’s sake.

Joel leans close to you and whispers a threat in your ear, “If you’re not back by nightfall, we’ll leave without you.”

“I don’t doubt it,” you snap.

He takes a half step back, his tired brown eyes meeting yours. For a flash you think he wants to apologize but he doesn’t, his pride wouldn’t let him anyways. This was the game the two of you have played all these months. This push-and-pull bullshit. It was tiresome in situations like these, the dire need of survival, but during those blissful moments of reprieve, it brought you joy.

Joel’s heavy footfalls penetrated the tense air even as he saddled up in front of Ellie. He calls your name and in his roundabout way, bargains with you. “Come back alive.”

Before you could even answer or reply, he’s off with a huff. Ellie strapped closely behind him.

Watching them go, you ducked and retraced your steps in the heavy and blinding snow. The storm hadn’t let up and likely wouldn’t any time soon. It worked well into your favor for now.

The journey back wasn’t as arduous or as dramatic as the way forward but you made it back to the safe house without incident. The whole time your mind juggled between the mixed emotions of Joel. Gratitude he was alive, joy that he was walking and talking, anger that he was walking and talking and not resting.

There was just a lot happening all at once. It’s why you wanted to be alone for the time being. Too many emotions swirled in you, too many thoughts, too much of everything. The bitter cold nipping at your fingertips helped, kept you grounded.

At least until you heard the low grumbling of Joel coaxing Ellie back to the land of the living, much as you both did the same to him these past few weeks. His voice trailed up the basement and didn’t stop as your steps echoed through the stairwell. 

When you stopped at the final landing did you look up. He was holding her close as she cried, she still hadn’t stopped. His hands, bruised and bloodied from stars know what, coaxed themselves through her messy hair. The sight of them both covered in other people’s blood hurt you in ways that no wound could ever compare to.

He was whispering nothings to her, praises for her fighting, echoing words of ‘shh, it’s okay’, repeatedly in a low soft voice. You came close to the two of them sitting on the lone mattress, “Hey, sweetheart, I’m back.”

Joel looked up at you again, looking over you. Taking in the sight of you now. He gave you a tense nod as Ellie reached around for your hand and squeezed it. Once she let you go you brushed her hair from her face and slowly stood.

“I’m going to pack up everything and we’re going to leave here, put this shit behind us.”

The two of them said nothing but Joel caught your eye and silently, you both came to an agreement. Whatever bullshit you two had, when it came to Ellie, she came first.

Isn’t that what family is for?

[laylax13s]

Taking full advantage of this to virtually hang out with you bestie 😌

Okay okay this is less a ghost story and more of a myth I read about but still:

So there's this bridge in Indiana. I don't remember what it's called but basically it's haunted by a ghost (allegedly) and there are two stories to it:

One is that when they were first building the bridge (and this bridge is old AF) that a worker fell into where they were building it and died and so the workers just built the bridge with the body still in it because they couldn't get it out and so they say the worker still haunts the bridge. He doesn't hurt anybody, but if you go there some people say they saw him standing around.

The other story (this one is even more depressing) is that a long time ago after the bridge was recently built, a mom was traveling over it to get her sick baby to the doctor, but the baby died on the bridge and in her sadness the mom fled. The rumour is that the baby is still there and if you go there and just listen, you'll hear a baby crying or cooing. Which is super fucking scary but like, a horror novel based on this idea would be kind of badass right???

Maybe the worker ghost adopted the baby ghost and they're a happy little family on the bridge who enjoy scaring people 😂

Anyway, that is my ghost story for youuuu.

Do you have any? 👀

Ooooh this is truly kinda freaky, but it WOULD make a fucking good story lol

I don't have a myth unfortunately, but I would like to hear more from you! 👀

And also, u can text me anytime, I would like to virtually hang out with u too bestie 😌🖤

[dweetwise]

i can’t stop writing them, send help. this was based on an idea from @gooobert, hope i could do it justice! ship: ace x felix word count: 1330

More than a thousand words

Meg was sitting by the campfire and busying herself with changing the shoelaces of her sneakers. The new ones were a different color and only marginally cleaner, and the whole thing was mostly a pointless attempt at any sort of change. It was kind of pathetic that the eyesore of the once-blue laces clashing with Meg’s red running shoes was the most interesting thing she'd seen in weeks.

The Entity's world was a lot of things. It was Meg's worst nightmare, a living hell, a home of unspeakable horrors that drained every last bit of hope from her piece by piece—

But in between those moments, it was indescribably boring.

Had anyone told Meg five years ago that she'd get used to being brutally murdered on a regular basis, she wouldn't have hesitated to give them a piece of her mind and maybe even her fist. But disturbing as it may be, after all this time it had become the new normal. The trials weren’t pleasant but at least they were something to keep her mind occupied and her reflexes sharp.

Between trials she was stuck at the campfire, which offered nothing in the way of entertainment save for Kate's guitar, Ace's playing cards and Bill's perpetually half-empty pack of cigarettes. Meg’s companions were both a blessing and a curse; some of them she was happy to call her friends and others she'd rather avoid. She had never been much of a people person and while it was nice to have the option to talk to someone if she wanted to, more often than not she just wanted to shove a sock in people's mouths when they just wouldn't shut up.

Hearing a familiar laugh, Meg's nose scrunched on instinct as she looked up to see one of those very people walk up to the fire. Ace sauntered up to a small group tending to the flames, earning a few words from Jeff and a smile from Kate, all the while running his mouth at a way louder volume than necessary.

Then, Ace proceeded to walk up to Felix.

Meg hadn't even noticed Felix return from his latest trial. She didn't know the man very well but he was one of the few who rarely got on her nerves, pulling his weight in trials and staying blissfully quiet at camp. She'd even go as far as to say she kind of liked the guy.

Of course, that respect flew out the window every time Felix spent time with Ace.

"Hiya, Pumpkin!" Ace chirped obnoxiously to the architect, effectively proving Meg's point. "Whatcha doing?"

Ace sat down next to Felix and Meg glared daggers at the gambler's smug face. So much for the blissful silence of the campfire.

"Ah, neat," Ace suddenly continued. "That looks like fun!"

Meg frowned; she hadn't even heard Felix say anything. Why was Ace talking to himself?

"How are you holding up after what happened back there?" Ace asked.

Felix still didn't reply, but this time Meg saw him give a pointed stare to Ace.

"I was going to heal myself so I could go for the rescue!” Ace protested. “That’s why I was in the basement, looking for a medkit—”

Felix huffed out a pointed breath.

"Or a map!" Ace continued. "I know you like to bring one into trials, and I thought it'd make a nice gift!"

Felix only raised an eyebrow.

"Alright, alright!" Ace relented, holding his hands up in surrender. "I was looking for a key so we could bail through the hatch once Yui and David died."

"Hmm," Felix replied.

It was a quiet sound that—combined with Felix's resting bitch face—gave absolutely nothing away.

"You're not mad, right babe?" Ace asked, casting a sickly-sweet pleading look at the German.

Again, Felix neither did or said anything, but soon Ace was breaking into a relieved laugh anyway.

"I knew you had a soft spot for me," Ace grinned.

“M-hm,” Felix commented.

“I know, I know—don’t make a habit of it,” Ace said.

The more Meg listened to the one-sided conversation, the more confused she got. There was no way Ace was able to decipher any of Felix’s weird sounds or barely-there facial expressions. It had to be some kind of joke.

She glanced around the campsite, but nobody else seemed to be paying the duo any attention. Jane was sitting on the log next to Meg’s, so she scooted over to the woman and leaned closer.

“Are you seeing this shit?” Meg whispered, getting Jane’s attention.

“What?”

“Those two!” Meg said, pointing to the offending pair.

“You think the Entity will throw another party for us before Halloween?” Ace asked Felix, still running his mouth and oblivious to Meg’s staring.

Felix hummed again; in agreement or in thought was anybody’s guess.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Ace concluded despite this. “She’s gotten lazy. Wouldn’t surprise me if she even forgot Christmas this year.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Jane said.

“Really?” Meg asked. “You don’t see anything wrong with…”

Felix huffed, and Ace gasped in mock offense.

“Excuse you, my Christmas sweater is fabulous,” Ace said.

Felix’s mouth quirked up in a smirk.

“That was one time, and I only borrowed yours because it looked comfy!” Ace protested.

“...That?” Meg asked Jane, gesturing in the couple’s general direction.

“Not really,” Jane said, infuriatingly unbothered by the display. “I know Felix’s family situation isn’t ideal, but as long as they’re happy, I don’t think it’s our place to judge.”

Wait… what?

“Huh?” Meg asked.

“I can’t really fault someone for finding joy in a place like this,” Jane said. “I know Ace sometimes gets on all our nerves, but Felix seems happy with him.”

What the hell was she—oh. Oh.

“Oh god no,” Meg said with a grimace. “I don’t care that they’re together or—whatever.”

Jane looked at her, frowning in confusion.

“I’m just weirded out that Ace is always just, like, talking to himself,” Meg explained. “Felix barely gets a word in.”

“Ah, I see! My bad,” Jane apologized. “Still, I don’t really see anything weird in it; Felix is a quiet person and Ace is good at reading people. I think it’s natural they communicate in their own ways.”

“You’re shitting me,” Meg deadpanned. “You really think Ace understands all those weird ‘aah’s and ‘hmm’s?”

“Body language is easier to read than you’d think,” Jane said. “Take Jake for example; he doesn’t talk a lot, but you always know what he means, right?”

“Yeah, because Jake only has two moods; ‘I’m listening’ and ‘fuck off’!” Meg protested. “It’s not like he’s telling his goddamn life story in that death glare.”

“Maybe you’re not listening,” Jane said, giving her a cryptic smile. “Either way, I think it’s sweet when people know each other well enough to not need words.”

“—I’m serious! You should have seen the look on his face!” Ace exclaimed to his companion way louder than necessary.

“...Though maybe I’d like it more if the roles were reversed,” Jane sighed, rubbing her ear.

“I hear you,” Meg snorted.

She looked back at Ace and Felix, who were still engrossed in their weird conversation. Felix had leaned closer to his boyfriend, listening raptly and offering acknowledging sounds every now and then as Ace recounted one of his trials. For some reason, the German seemed to enjoy Ace’s incessant babbling, and who was Meg to stop him?

She watched as Felix reached over and grabbed Ace’s hand, making the gambler pause mid-sentence. Slowly, Ace’s shit-eating grin changed into a soft smile.

He clasped Felix’s hand and lifted it to his mouth, giving the knuckles a quick kiss and in response, Felix lowered his head and returned the smile.

"I love you too," Ace murmured.

Meg rolled her eyes and grabbed another pair of sneakers to continue her project. She’d never understand those two, but maybe that was for the better.

And maybe she should give Jake’s death glare another shot.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Money, Money, Money Part 1

Pairing: mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader, slight Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: lots of swearing, silly drunk mobs, mentions of alcoholism, parody, Peter is adult, is this a crack fic??

Words: 2578.

Summary: When Steve finds out somebody has stolen their money, Bucky realizes he has to take his ass off the leather couch in his office, finally.

P.S. This is my first attempt to write humor and I’m sorry in advance for everything I’ve written here 😅

_________________

“BITCH, DID I STUTTER WHEN I SAID TO KEEP THAT SAFE CLOSED AT ALL TIMES?”

Allyson massaged her temples softly and let out a groan: if Mr. Rogers continued to yell like that, he would definitely choke soon. This morning he had been pretending to be the death, vengeance and fury, ready to kick the ass of her immediate superior, James Barnes, who acted like he was deaf, unable to pull himself from the couch where he slept after getting drunk as a fish last night. Oh, poor Bucky. Apparently, he fucked things up again if Mr. Rogers stormed into his office like he was getting chased by a 200-pound dog.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, you son of a...” glancing at a pouting man-child with a three-day beard, Steve covered his face with his palm and let out an exasperated sigh, “... respectable woman who would die of shame if she saw you now!”

“Come on, Stevie,” the man yawned, finally moving his huge, muscular body up to sit instead of just laying on the couch since he felt a little guilty Steve was getting all riled up while he just chilled, “why so serious? Yeah, somebody took a bit of cash from the safe, it’s not a big deal.”

Allyson heard everything as if they were speaking right in front of her - Bucky was a real Mr. Cheapo who didn’t want to rent an office with decent walls - and quickly closed her ears, wishing she had taken her earplugs today. Her boss just made a grave mistake, and now both of them were going to pay for it with their eardrums.

“NOT A BIG DEAL? NOT A BIG DEAL, YOU MASSIVE BAG OF DOUCHE?! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH MONEY WAS THERE, HUH?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THOSE MONEY WERE FOR?!”

Seriously, she considered getting a new job, but these free daily standup shows were both tiring and so fucking funny she was afraid she might wet her seat.

“Oh my fucking God, Bucky, I swear I’ll kill you, I’ll... no, I have a better idea!” Steve gave his best friend a dirty look. “I’ll call your uncle. Yeah, you know which one. He’ll be sooo happy to take you drunk ass to jail and then give your mama a call. I bet she has a cure for both your attitude and alcoholism.”

“You wouldn’t do that!”

Suddenly realizing the danger he was in, Bucky quickly got up, almost falling to the floor but holding on the leather chair in the very last second. When Steve talked about calling his uncle, a chief of police of the neighboring town where his whole family lived, it meant things were going bad. Real bad.

“Bucky, it was the part we were going to invest into Pierce’s casino. I have to take it to him tomorrow morning. TOMORROW FUCKING MORNING, DO YOU HEAR ME, YOU STINKING DRUNK?”

“I’m drunk but not deaf, Steve!”

“Oh my God, I’m driving you to a rehab, go gather your stuff right now!”

Allyson sighed, getting up and proceeding to choose the most beautiful cup to fill it with fresh coffee: when their conflicts escalated to threats, it meant her boss would soon start to sweet-talk, apologizing to his best friend and promising to sober up and get things right. Every time she felt like Mr. Rogers would really do something to Bucky, the guy used his natural charisma and charm and got away with anything by just reminding Steve how he fought for his best friend in the dark alleys when Rogers was a sick, skinny kid. It worked every damn time.

There they were again, talking about same things with Bucky swearing on his mother’s life that he will find the money and bring it back to Steve. Usually it meant the threats were coming to an end, and soon Mr. Rogers would open the door and come out red as a lobster, breathing heavily as if he just ran a marathon. There he would see her with a cup of nice coffee with cream and two spoons of sugar just like he preferred, gladly accepting it and saying nobody understand him but her. Then Allyson would smile compassionately, listen to his small talk before he went out the office, and wait until her grumpy boss would fall out the room, reeking alcohol, and ask her what the fuck had happened yesterday.

After that in a couple of minutes things would finally settle down, and Allyson would have a chance to give a call to her best friend.

_______________________________

Your day couldn’t start better: you had finally received your Amazon order - hooray to the stupid makeup tools you would use, like, once a year - and even watched your favorite Netflix series with a cup of a fragrant coffee with marshmallows because it was Sunday and you were finally free from both work and cleaning the apartment. It felt so nice to just do absolutely nothing, laying on your couch with a piece of pizza in your hand. Seriously, even a workaholic like you had to do it more often.

Your lazy morning was interrupted by Peter, a sweet college student who was getting into troubles more often than a drunk in a local bar: you seriously considered calling him Harry Potter after you found him half-naked with a scratch on his forehead standing in the corridor of your building and holding a broom. To protect himself from bullies, he said, by the look on his face you could tell it was as good as a magic wand against 6"4 ft tall guys, seriously.

Since he rented an apartment with other unlucky nerds who had zero skills how to survive in this cruel world, you ended up nearly baby-sitting Peter, patching him up after he was getting in a fight and lending him some money time after time when he struggled to pay rent or buy food. His parents were elderly people with income below average, but they still did whatever they could to give him an education, so you decided to give the guy a hand.

Now that baby was standing in front of you, lit up like a Christmas tree, with a bouquet of wonderful pink roses, big box of hand-crafted chocolates and a whole bag of what looked like some very fine food, even a bottle of champagne clinking inside.

"Good morning, Fairy Godmother! I came to bring back what I owe you!" His smile was a mile wide when he looked at your face, happy to the point he couldn't stand still, dancing like those Duracell rabbits in the tv ad.

"You're up early, Cinderella."

You yawned, laughing when you saw the guy pouting at the nickname you gave him - tf he expected for calling you Fairy Godmother?

"Don't stand there, come in."

When he actually handed you the flowers and chocolates, giving you a quick peck on the cheek shyly, you froze, finally realizing he brought all this for you. Wait, what? Where the heck did he get so much money to buy that expensive stuff? You thought he was helping his other neighbor who was planning to finally propose to his girlfriend. Perplexed to the point you nearly missed that peck, you blinked at tomato red Peter.

"Please don't tell me you robbed your 90-year-old paralytic professor."

"Why don't you ask if I robbed a bank?" He pouted again, putting the bag on the floor and getting a hundred dollar banknote out of his old leather wallet. "I actually came to thank you for everything you've done for me. And I didn't rob anyone! I got a real job!"

"Real job?" You eyed him curiously. "But don't you already have a job in delivery?"

"Pfft, you can't call it a job. It was getting one nasty smelling pizza from one place to the other while looking miserable."

You barely held your laugh, leaving the bouquet and chocolates on the side table and rubbing guy's back. Poor Peter, nobody was giving him a hand - while you couldn't question people's decision since the guy wasn't the most reliable one, it was still a shame he wasn't treated decently as if all of them weren't young and careless once.

Wait, but who on Earth gave him such a well-paid job all of a sudden? He must have spent hundreds of dollars on the bouquet, chocolates, food and champagne, not even counting those 100 dollars he owed.

Oh God.

"Please don't tell me you're working for some shady business." You looked at him in horror, your hand flying to your mouth. "Peter, is it Tony's band?!"

"Jesus woman, why would I work for some stupid mob." The guy rolled his eyes, and you sighed in relief, not knowing what to except from this trouble on two skinny legs. “I’m telling you, it’s nothing bad! I just have to keep it a secret before I get a contract. Once I figure it out, I’ll explain everything, I swear!”

“Alright, alright, don’t stress over it, I’m not your Ma.” Smirking, you went to take a square glass vase you hadn’t use in ages, filling it with water to drop the bouquet inside. “Let’s celebrate it, then! Woah, careful there, give me that bottle until you drop it on my clean floor, I’ve been scrubbing it for hours yesterday!”

_______________________

Bucky still felt like Steve was making too much of a big deal out of it: obviously, it was Tony who went to him at night when Bucky was already drunk like a monkey, celebrating the birth of Clint’s daughter. Nobody else had the courage to steal from him, Steve’s right hand, an ex-soldier who had a reputation of a man killing with the first punch. Not that Bucky ever killed anybody, actually being a ex-trumpet in an army band...

Anyway, the man was heading over to Stark’s Tower, a motel where he and all his guys lived when his wife Pepper was out of town. Pepper had definitely been out of town lately since Tony didn’t call: when she was coming back, Steve and Tony were having a two-day truce with nobody getting in a fight because it was making Mrs. Stark upset, and when she was upset, both Steve and Tony didn’t risk getting out of their holes to face this enraged blonde woman who could make anyone wet themselves with one her glance. If there were anyone killing with just one punch in the town, it got to be Pepper.

As he got closer in his Cadillac that looked like it went through fire and water before being sold to Bucky, Barnes stared at the motel suspiciously: it was strangely quiet with everyone hiding inside, not a man guarding the motel’s entrance. What the hell happened? Tony loved showing off, pretending he ruled over the town, and he would definitely act like a king after stealing Steve’s and his money. It was unbelievable Bucky so nobody welcoming him with a smirk.

Hoping he didn’t use all that money for emptying a liquor store, Bucky parked the car and went to the motel, dying to have some beer: one heartless blonde boss of his emptied his fridge.

“Oh, more drinking partners returning to continue the fun, huh?”

Bucky froze immediately, staring at Pepper who stood in the doorway with a face of an iron maiden. Jesus fucking Christ. She returned to the city way before Tony told him, and it was clear she found him not in the condition she expected to. While Bucky considered whether it was better to run, Tony’s head appeared somewhere behind his wife, and Barnes saw Tony was as drunk as him, if not even more. He could see a huge blue mark from Pepper’s heavy hand on Stark’s cheek.

“Who’s that, honey?” The man asked innocently, earning an enraged glance from his wife, and Bucky thought he should have run. “Hi, Buck! Come on in, it’s ok if you didn’t bring beer even if I asked twice.”

Oh. Something was going on. Of course, Bucky could rat the man out immediately, telling Pepper he wasn’t drinking with Tony yesterday’s night, but he wasn’t such a heartless bastard - by the look on Stark’s face Barnes could see his sweet blonde wifey would beat poor Tony to death with her Dior handbag.

“Sorry, I blacked out for a couple of hours in my car.” He mumbled, bowing his head in respect. “Pepper, such a pleasure to see you.”

“Come on in, alcoholic.” Her gaze was heavy, and Bucky shivered a little, carefully leaving his shoes near the door and scurrying away to the coach where Tony sat, nervously biting his fingers. “Well, do you wanna tell me something, huh? How many hookers have you brought here yesterday?”

Glancing to Tony and back to Pepper, Barnes suddenly realized his frenemy had been so drunk he had no hecking idea whether somebody really brought hookers to the motel - it was a total taboo, but once they got drunk they could barely control themselves. Once they literally woke up to a Santa Claus singing Jingle Bells in the tub in the middle of June because Tony missed Christmas.

Of course, Stark would never slip up the night before Pepper was coming back to town, but, apparently, she didn’t stay with her mom for as long as she planned, and Tony was royally fucked.

“I’ve asked you a question.”

And now Bucky was, too, if he didn’t think of something quick. Of course, he could tell her the truth, but it meant losing Tony completely, and Barnes didn’t want that. A real mafioso should have at least one strong enemy, right?

“I’m sorry, Pepper, but I don’t think there were any hookers here last night.” He said, carefully choosing words. “You see, first, Tony never allows us to. Second, we’re good Christians. We would never invite some hookers when we celebrated the birth of Clint’s daughter!”

As he got silent, enjoying the effect his words were having on Pepper, Bucky looked at the man sitting to his right, watching Tony’s eyes watering: it was definitely God himself who sent Barnes his way that morning, saving his from near death. Nothing would work better than this excuse. Clint and all Bucky’s guys were so drunk to the point they barely remembered what had happened, and it would be easy to convince them Tony and his gang came to see Barnes for something and ended up staying with all of them.

Besides, there was a nice bonus Bucky could add to make it work even better.

“By the way, Clint named her Natasha. That’s also the name of your mom, right?”

By the look on Tony’s face the man realized he was ready to sing.

“How did he know my mom’s name?” Pepper eyed Steve’s right hand distrustfully, but he could tell she was less irritated.

“Oh, you know, he and his wife couldn’t choose the name, so we started saying whatever names we knew, and Tony mentioned Natasha.”

For a second Bucky thought Stark was going to kiss him through excess of joy.

When he finally left the motel, getting his pack of beer given him by lovely Pepper who changed the anger to mercy, Tony ran out of the house after him, giving him a pat on the shoulder and whispering quietly, “I own you one, brother.”

Bucky sighed. Stark didn’t take the money.

______________

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[avnkin]

The Bet

Chapter 3 - Broken

JJ Maybank x Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of abuse & mentions of underage drinking

Word count: 2k (kinda short but I needed to get this chapter out for the rest of the story to make sense)

Summary: John B bets JJ that he can’t get kook princess Y/N Y/L/N to fall in love with him and not one to turn down a challenge JJ takes the bet unaware of the repercussions it would have.

(A/N): I just wanna say that i’m not in any way trying to romanticize the horrible things JJ goes through with his dad so if it comes of that way i’m really sorry it’s not intent, i’m just trying to build the relationship with JJ and the reader❤️ and i wanna thank y’all for your continuing support, i love you so much <33

series masterlist

There had been a kegger down at the beach that night but you’d somehow managed to convince Sarah that you’d be fine staying at home, not feeling like partying or getting drunk, being more than content with your chocolate and Disney movies.

Your eyes were slowly starting to flutter shut as you felt yourself beginning to fall asleep with Toy Story playing quietly in the background but a sudden knock on your window woke you up almost immediately. 

“What the hell” you muttered eyes snapping open and diverting to the window, you’d watched your fair share of horror movies and this felt like a scene straight out of one.

Carefully you lifted the white sheets that covered your body off of you and swung your legs over the edge of the bed, shivering as your feet met the cold ground. Carefully you made your way towards the window, your brows pulling in once you saw none other than your boyfriend huddled over there.

You thought he’d most likely be blackout drunk by now partying with John B and the rest of the gang but instead, he was here, his head hanging low as he waited for you to open the window, something was definitely wrong.

Worry consumed you as you rushed towards him, quickly pushing the window open allowing the blonde boy to crawl in. His head hung low as he climbed over your windowsill, once he made it through you quickly shut the window behind him and turned to face him but you were horrified at the sight before you, his entire face was covered in bruises, scrapes, and dried up blood.

You gasped your hands covering your mouth, “what happened” you finally managed to choke out, your eyes frantically scanning his body searching for any more damage, but thankfully you couldn't see any.

He didn’t answer, simply walking over to your bed plopping down on the edge of it. You slowly made your way towards him, kneeling down before him your fingers went up to his face carefully gliding over his usually smooth sun-kissed skin that was now bumpy and uneven.

“JJ what happened,” you asked once again, your voice soft. 

His eyes refused to meet yours staying glued on the floor below “it’s nothing Y/N” he muttered it was barely audible, his voice was hoarse and lacked the usual tone of confidence it always held “JJ why won’t you tell me what’s going on? You know you can trust me” you frowned as his eyes finally met yours and god he looked so broken.

“It’s my dad” he finally spoke filling the silence that had previously consumed the room, his eyes glossing over “sometimes he uh- drinks” he choked out “well it’s actually a lot more than sometimes” he feigned a smile shaking his head, he was obviously trying to hold back his emotions to the best of his ability. 

You swore you could feel your heart shatter at his words so slowly you pushed yourself up towards him, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck as his found your waist, engulfing him in a tight hug “I’m so so sorry, you don’t deserve this” you sniffled. 

Words couldn't describe how angry it made you that he had to go through with this with someone who was supposed to love and take care of him. 

He hated this, he hated the fact that you were seeing him like this, he hated being vulnerable, he didn’t want you to pity him, it was the single worst feeling he knew, having people feel bad for him and act as if he couldn’t take care of himself. 

He didn’t exactly know how he found himself at your house after what had happened, he just walked and before he knew it he was standing below your window. He also never expected to tell you any of this, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie to you even more, as you looked at him with more love than anyone in his life ever had, god he was a terrible person.

His head slowly came up from the crook of your neck as he rested his forehead against your own, his hand coming up to cup your cheek wiping the few tears that fell from your eyes with his thumb.

“You know you can always stay here, no matter what I’ll always be here for you, i- i” you cut yourself off before you could finish, maybe it was too soon to tell him that you loved him, but you really did, you really fucking did and you wanted to tell him, let him know that he had you and that you’d always be there if he needed you.

JJ wasn’t even thinking about the bet anymore, the words falling from his mouth almost instinctively “I love you” he finished for you, hand dropping from your cheek and back down to your waist “I love you too” you smiled letting out a teary laugh as you pulled him down into another hug.

“Let’s get you cleaned up” you comforted intertwining your fingers with his, you pulled him into the bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit you attended to his wounds before the two of you laid down in your bed, your arms wrapping around his waist as your head rested in the nape of his neck.

It had been almost two weeks since he showed up at your house that night and you felt your relationship growing even stronger after it, you hadn't told anybody about it, not even Sarah because you knew JJ didn't want people to know what happened behind closed doors at his home.

You managed to convince him to stay at your house almost every night after that, refusing to let him go back home to his pathetic excuse of a dad.

JJ knew he was falling in love with you, but he couldn't admit it to himself or anyone else for that matter, he didn't want to fall in love because every single person he'd ever loved before had always ended up leaving so he put up a barrier to protect himself from ever getting his heartbroken again.

John B and JJ were currently working, delivering groceries to the citizens of Figure Eight, the sun rays were extra warm today shining down on the pair of them. 

They had just finished a delivery near the golf course where Rafe and his friends would sometimes spend their afternoons, golfing, and drinking. 

The two boys were sitting on a bench near the dock where their boat was tied down gently swaying in the calm waves of the water "we should get going man I don’t feel like getting into a fight right now” John B worried looking over at JJ who only rolled his eyes.

JJ had insisted on smoking a blunt before they got back out on the water and continued their deliveries “don’t be such a pussy man we’re fine there’s no one here” JJ claimed gesturing towards the empty space around them.

“Whatever man if we get beat up it’s your fault”

Rafe, Topper, and Kelce we’re currently out on the golf course listening to Topper's constant whining about Sarah, why she wasn't answering his calls and why she was suddenly starting to spend so much time on the cut.

Rafe agreed with Topper that it was weird, but he knew exactly what his sister was doing even though he hadn't told Topper about it, he knew that you and Sarah had both chosen to be with some ‘dirty pogues’ instead of them and he hated it.

Rummaging through his stuff he quickly realized he’d forgotten one of his favorite golf clubs in the trunk of his car "fuck" Rafe muttered excusing himself from the guys as he jogged around the small building and towards the parking lot where his car was parked.

Once he reached his car he quickly unlocked it and made his way towards the trunk but hearing voices in the distance his head shot up, eyes quickly landing on the two boys who were seated near the dock with their backs facing him.

His blood boiled as he watched them, acting as if they didn't have a care in the world, he could almost immediately identify that it was JJ and John B since JJ's red cap that he wore almost every single day gave him away. He couldn’t describe the hatred he felt for that boy, he hated him before he dated you and hated him even more now that he had you and he didn’t.

Frantically he grabbed the golf club from the trunk of his car and in a haze made his way towards the two boys' hands tightening around the golf club his fingers turning almost white. 

As he neared them he slowly started to raise the metal object above his head ready to swing it at JJ but his movements abruptly stopped at the mention of your name.

Somehow they hadn’t noticed him and finding the conversation interesting he quickly hid behind one of the large trash cans that rested just in-ear sight of the two boys, his ears perking up as he listened intently to the conversation the two boys were engaged in.

“You guys have been together for almost a month and a half now and you’re seriously not starting to feel anything for her, like at all?” John B questioned, a blunt resting on the corner of his lips.

JJ’s brows pulled in simply shrugging at John B’s question “I don’t know” he lied, JJ knew he liked you hell he even thought that he loved you but he wouldn’t admit it to himself, knowing that as soon as he told someone he couldn't pretend anymore, pretend that he didn't love you.

“I still think we should call the bet off, if she finds out about it-" John B winced thinking of your reaction "god I don’t even wanna think about that” he finished hopeful that his second attempt of calling the bet off would work.

“That’s why she’s not going to find out, the only people that know about this are me and you, and I intend to keep it that way” JJ stated reaching his hand out and pulling the blunt from John B’s mouth, placing it into his own.

JJ had yet to tell John B that you’d already told him that you loved him because he knew that when he did he wouldn't have an excuse to be around you anymore, so he’d kept it to himself.

At first, Rafe didn't know what to make of the words he was hearing but it finally clicked, a bet you had been a bet. He let out an almost satisfied sigh, knowing he now had the upper hand, JJ didn’t even like you, he was only with you for money. 

This was perfect was all he could think as he scurried back to his car, frantically searching his pockets for his phone. When his fingers finally felt the metal object he hurriedly started dialing your number eager to tell you the news, being almost positive that you’d come crawling back to him when you did.

But as he tried to call you over and over again it always went straight to voicemail, so he tried texting you but it wouldn’t deliver, searched all your social media sites but couldn’t find them and that’s when it hit him, you’d blocked him on everything.

“Shit” he mumbled, knowing he couldn’t just show up at your house when your parents were there, he’d look like an actual psychopath, but that’s when he remembered that the outdoor movie theatre was only a couple of days away and he knew that you’d be there.

Even if he had to wait for a couple of days to tell you what he had just heard he knew it would be worth it, seeing the look on your face as he broke the news was all he could think about as he made his way back towards Kelce and Topper, a devilish smirk placed on his lips, he’d have you back in no time.

next part

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[tinyboxxtink]

“Sharky” *Part 2*

Don’t hate me because Barba is kind of a dick right now. We all know he’s not-- but we need the drama. <3

Part 1

Part 3

Tag List:

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@gibbs274

@dumauier

@wanniiieeee

@objection-argumentative

@word-scribbless

@aprildecker-blog

---------

“So he actually asked you to dinner?” 

“Yeah, but it’s probably some weird tactic to get inside my head,”

“Is he cute?” 

“Why does that matter?”

“Honey it always matters.”

Alright, so you had one friend. One best friend. One very best friend that you’d known since law school. But nobody needed to know that.

“....Yeah, I’d say he’s pretty attractive,” You finally admitted as you reheated your leftovers.

“Oh my God you’ve had sex dreams about this man haven’t you?!” He squealed.

“HOW do you do that?!” You stared at the phone in disbelief.

“It’s a gift,” He laughed. “I can hear the lust in your voice,”

“Whatever,” You grabbed a beer from the fridge.

“So what are you going to wear?” 

“I don’t know, I’ll decide in the moment,” You sat down on your couch and started catching up on your shows with your food and beer.

“Oh no no no, you need to wear your silver dress with those platinum earrings I bought you for Christmas,”

“Seriously, Charles? Are you going to come over and do my hair and make up too?” You chuckled sarcastically as you shoved low mien in your face.

“Do you want me to?” 

“I’m hanging up now,”

“Wait wait wait,” He pleaded and you listened.

“Be nice to him, honey,” 

“I’m always nice,” You stated in an offended tone.

“You’re cordial. Be nice-- Smile, flirt. Have a good time,” You heard his sweet intentions through the phone; it was like he was actually being a caring best friend.

“You make it sound like a date,”

“Well that all depends if you fuck him after,” There he was.

“I’m really hanging up now,”

“Call me after!”

-----

You went with the silver dress and black pumps-- just because Charles had put the idea in your head, not because it was the outfit you looked best in. You stepped out of your Uber in front of the restaurant: 

“Forlini’s” You read out loud. “...This place better not be expensive,” 

You went inside and noticed Barba was already at the bar so you walked over to join him.

 “Hey, Sharky!” His greeting caused an eye roll from you. 

“Seriously can we drop the name? I’m a woman not a fish,” You took a bar stool next to him.

“...Well then you probably shouldn’t have worn that,” He nodded.

“Excuse me?”

“You look like a shark to me,” He gestured to your silver dress; it was tight on the top and kind of flowed down your legs, like a fish tail. You had never noticed it before, but him pointing it out made it suddenly glaringly obvious.

“Alright guppy, what are you drinking?” You smirked, slipping into the bar stool next to him.

“Guppy…” Now he rolled his eyes with a smile. “Scotch, neat,” 

“I’ll have what he’s having, only stronger,” You instructed the bartender, causing an even bigger eye roll from Barba.

“You’re something else, you know that?”

“Thank you,” You beamed proudly.

The bartender returned with your drink; you noticed that he was very young and very good looking. You slipped him a $20 with a sly smile. 

“Keep the change, handsome,” You gave him a wink. He looked between the two of you, confused as to why you’d be flirting shamelessly with him in front of Barba.

“We’re not together,” You said very loudly.

“Wow, don’t say it so eagerly,” 

“Hey I might need some stress relief after this interrogation, I’m just covering my bases,” You smirked, still eyeing the bartender.

“Is that what you think this is?”

“What else is a first date if not an interrogation?” You suddenly realized what you had said and to your dismay you saw Barba caught it too.

“Ah so this IS a date,” He smirked.

“..I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant--” You stumbled over your words as Rafael just smiled at you in amusement. 

“Just shut up and ask your questions, I know you have a list of them” You shook your head dismissively. 

“Not a list…” He nodded to the bartender for another round. “Alright well why did you choose to be a defense attorney?”

“Money,” You replied without a pause. 

“Money? Really?” He asked with a judgey tone. 

“Hey you try growing up dirt poor and see how much you appreciate having money,” You snapped.

“I did, and I do; but it doesn’t run my life,” He shook his head disapprovingly.

“It doesn’t run my life,” You knocked back the rest of your scotch, ready for the new one.

“Really? Then tell me, how do you pick your cases?” He raised an eyebrow.

“My boss gives them to me,” You didn’t see the big deal.

“Uh huh and how does he order them?” He was making a point, you knew he was.

“...By the biggest paycheck for the firm,” You finally admitted.

“Uh huh,” He nodded smugly, sipping his new scotch.

“Look Barba I already told you this, defense lawyers are unfeeling monsters. What else do you want me to say?” You scoffed. 

“Is that the only reason you became one?” He smirked at you.

“No, actually it’s not,” You replied as you sipped your own scotch.

“Really? Why else?” He raised his eyebrows curiously.

“Because any law student out of night school can defend a good guy,” You inched closer to his face. 

“Defending a bad guy is a challenge,” You pulled back and noticed he was still smirking, and he added an approving nod.

“Fair enough,” 

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I mean you make a good point,” He scanned you up and down. “Everybody loves a challenge,” 

You felt yourself blush as his eyes ran over you, your own eyes surveying his entire body. You would never admit it to anyone, but you did always have a thing for the ADA-- not like “doodle hearts in your notebook” thing, but when he’d do his crosses in court you’d always stare at his perfect ass in those chinos and wonder what it would be like to take a bite out of it. 

Some other days, particularly when he wore the black and pink suit, you’d imagine what it would be like to just shove him onto his little offensive desk and fuck him right there in the courtroom, with everyone watching. You were so lost in your own fantasies that you didn’t notice people approaching you-- 

“Rafa?” An all too familiar voice came from the side of the room. You turned to see Rafael’s rag tag bunch of misfit detectives staring at you.

“Olivia,” Rafael said softly like a kid caught out after curfew.

“So this is why you couldn’t come out with us, because you were taking HER out?” Olivia spat.

“Um excuse you, I’m taking HIM out,” You grabbed Rafael’s hand and put it on your knee.

“NOBODY is taking ANYBODY ‘out’,” Rafael snapped his hand back and gave you a dirty look. 

“Liv it’s just a friendly dinner, and I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to have this conversation,” He gave her those pathetic apologetic eyes, like a puppy who had just peed on the rug.

“Why do you care anyway, detective?” You asked innocently. You knew she had cream in her panties with his name on it, and you weren’t afraid to call her on it. 

“Excuse me?” She scoffed with a laugh. “I care because he’s my best friend, and he doesn’t need to be manipulated by you,”

“Really? Me manipulating him?” You smirked and stood up off your bar stool and got real close to her face. “Then why did he ask me out?”

Olivia stared in horror at you, then Barba, then threw up her hands and stomped off. Carisi, Rollins and Fin all muttered goodbyes and dashed out behind her.

“Why would you do that?!” He looked like he wanted to go after her, but he was staying to have it out with you.

“Why would I--? Are you serious, Barba?!” You continued standing, now crossing your arms. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”

“What?” He looked confused but you weren’t buying it.

“You asked me here on purpose,” You narrowed your eyes.

“Well obviously it was on purpose--” He tried playing it off.

“No no, don’t be cute. You asked me here with an agenda,” You inched closer to him.

“What? Oh come on Sharky not everyone is you, with your ulterior motives--” He glanced around nervously.

“MY ulterior--?! You asked me here to make your little work wife jealous!” You were making a scene now, but you didn’t care.

“What? I most certainly did NOT--” He tried defending himself.

“Then why did you ask me to come to the same restaurant you knew they were going to be at? I mean if you didn’t ‘want’ to be caught. I know you’re not that stupid,”

“I forgot,” He muttered softly.

“You FORGOT? Do you really think I’m that stupid? I’m not Olivia,” You crossed your arms again.

“DON’T talk about her,” He growled.

“Oh my god are-- are you on something?!” You threw your hands up. “You clearly have a thing for that woman, and yet you asked me out to parade me in front of her, for why?” You threw your hands up in frustration. 

“I didn’t ask you out for that Y/N, I swear--” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Then WHY did you ask me out?”

“I-I don’t know…” Now he turned those apologetic eyes on you, but you weren’t falling for it like his little detective.

“You’re fucking unbelievable, you know that?” Tears were forming in your throat against your wishes; you would not let this fucker see you have emotions.

“You know you offense lawyers, you sit up there on your moral high horses, judging all of us “bottom feeders”. But I would never fuck with anyone’s emotions or their heart, Barba. That’s just cruel,” 

“I thought you didn’t have a heart,” He was still going for the quips, he had some balls you’d give him that.

“Oh so that’s what this was,” You sucked back the tears as you tried to laugh it off. 

“You wanted to fuck with the big bad Sea Witch, see if she had a heart?”  You really couldn’t believe he was this vindictive. This whole time you thought, maybe....well, you didn’t know what. But you were clearly mistaken.

“No, I’m sorry I was just--” He stood up and tried to put his hand on your shoulder but you jerked away.

“Well guess what, Barba? You win! You made the shark cry. Are you happy?” You couldn’t hold the tears anymore as you yelled. 

“Y/N I’m sorry, I really am--” He tried going for your hand, but you slapped him across the face.

“Don’t follow me,” You warned him as you turned and stormed out of the restaurant.

How could you have been so wrong about him? Why did you even care?

[seeds-and-sins]

On the Fly

Pairing: Homelander / Reader

Rating: T (Language, lots of bad language)

Description: You are a loud mouth New York cop that doesn't give two shits what anybody else thinks. Homelander is the hero of America, the stars and stripes of justice. The fans ship you two together so bad, and it was all your fault. If only you had kept your mouth shut.

It was such a cheesy, stupid idea that the Vought marketing team had developed. One single interaction between Homelander and some tiny, pathetic little officer goes viral, and all the fans want more of it, ALL of the fans. You were just doing your duty that day, Homelander and Queen Maeve intervened when your partner and you were about to lead a huge drug raid that had been planned for months. You, always having been the more forward one, approached Homelander, when she just so happened to be addressing the news about the incident.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" His eyebrows rose up at the sight of you, a fleshbag at most, badgering him. Your hair was loose, the NYPD vest fastened tightly on your torso, toned biceps flashing, gun at your side, he was absolutely confused at first. No officer just straight up approached him unless they wanted an autograph, or a handshake. You wanted neither. And you were so angry, your New Yorker accent was shooting out of from your lips without restraint.

"Excuse me?" He then snorted, reminding himself that you were both being watched.

"This was my raid, not yours, you don't just come fucking barging in without notice. We had planned this for months."

"And I understand that, um..." He forced a smile, although he really wanted to just break your neck. No one had ever had the gull to speak to him that way. "You are the real heroes."

"Oh, like that fucking shit is going to cut it, huh?" You pushed Homelander, although it was almost like pushing a wall, you did it anyways. Everyone around you both made a resounding gasp, even some of the emergency services crew members in the backdrop paused what they were doing. "Listen buster, I trained for this shit show, and what did you do? You were born with the power to fucking fly and shoot lasers from your eyes? Big fucking whoop!" Homelander's jaw went taut and he sighed agitation.

"And don't you know who you are talking to? I saved your lives and made your jobs easier." You crossed your arms, lip pouting out.

"I didn't become a cop so that you could make it easy for me. I knew what I signed up for. Next time, mind your own shit! I will keep you on stand by."

"Next time, I will still do what heroes always do." He stated firmly between clenched teeth, then bowed down closer to you, perhaps in an attempt to intimidate you, but to his surprise you didn't even flinch. You came straight forward, faces an inch from eachother as you kept a hard eye contact.

"You fucking come into my establishment again, I will have your ass." You growled, fists at her sides.

"And we'll see how well that goes for you, officer." He snarled right back, then you were storming off. Even though you truly wanted to be the last one standing, you had work to do.

The next day you did the usual routine. You went on your six miler, hit the weights at the gym, and then got ready for the day. You didn't think anything of it, got your coffee, grabbed a whole of the daily paper and walked to work in uniform. As soon as you showed up to the department, it was a shit storm. People were flying back and forth, colleagues of yours sent you stares without replying to your greetings, the whole place was in disarray. Then you saw him, and your blood only boiled more, he was standing with the commissioner and several unfamiliar faces. When the commissioner saw you, his entire expression lit up in that face you knew all too well, the 'I am trying to hide how pissed I am so I will smile' face.

"Officer (L/N)! Come over here!" He exclaimed with feigned excitement, he scurried the lit of you into his office, where you took your usual seat. You had been here before, you weren't usually very good at following the rules as it was. This blonde woman took the seat beside you, two others standing behind her with clipboards. She had this eerie grin on her face, not much different from Homelander's.

"Officer (L/N), its a pleasure to meet you." She held her hand out, you didn't accept it and tilted your head towards your boss.

"What the fuck is going on?" As the woman retrieved her hand, the red head behind her replied in an all too chirpy tone.

"The fans love you! They want you in a team up with Homelander." She explained, you rolled your eyes and then stood with a sigh.

"This is a joke. I am not doing it."

"You have no choice, (Y/N)." Your boss said and he said it all too sternly, surely he would have your badge if you disagreed.

"I don't believe this, why me? Huh? Because I said what everybody else was thinking?!"

"Here are some of what the fans have been saying." The other one handed her clipboard to you, the blonde still staring in silence with that polite and cringy smile. You squinted as you read over the list of comments, particular on the viral video between Homelander and you.

"Aww, they are like an old married couple?!" You read aloud, "What the fuck?!" Then down to the next one. "Why don't they just get a room?! Team up?! What the fuckety fuck?!"

"It appears the two of you have had some chemistry, I suppose." The blonde finally spoke coolly, you then raised your glare to Homelander.

"Do you think we have chemistry? Huh? 'Cause I think you are just a fucked up, flying monkey asshole."

"(Y/N)!" Your boss chastised, you crossed your arms with a sigh.

"Whatever, lets just get this over with. People will get sick of it eventually."

"Perfect, we will have the cameras on you, as soon as within the hour." Your jaw dropped, and you wanted to speak in protest, but the words wouldn't leave your lips. As everyone left the room, Homelander was the lsst one to tap your mouth shut, he grinned.

"You're a celebrity now, (Y/N). Get used to it." You thought you could, but it was so much work trying to ride this out. The cameras followed you for weeks, allowing Vought to post short videos of your encounters with Homelander. Homelander replaced your partner for that period of time, which only drifted your friend and you further apart. The short videos became so popular, soon the two of you had your own TV show every night at nine. It was originally called Justice.

"Do you think we could film your workout routine, (Y/N)?" Vought was insufferable in their addiction for the show, it had gotten a lot of publicity and was a number one hit for the industry. Homelander accompanied you on bank robberies, house calls, domestic disturbances, etc. Meanwhile, the both of you disagreed over everything and the banter only made the two of you more popular. Vought started making t-shirts and memorabilia that selled like crazy. The two of you posing, your playful remarks, and almost all of the words that left your mouth:

Flying Monkey Motherfucker!

It was like a fucking hillbilly porno!

Go fuck yourself with some bullets!

Listen, I have bigger balls than this two bit motherfucking laser machine!

That was when the true name of the show was born:

"Yeah, like you think I am going to be like you, fucking on the fly-"

"That's it!" One of the producers shouted from behind the cameras. Homelander and you glared at him, annoyed that anybody would interrupt the very imoortant argument you both were having. From that point on the show was named 'On the Fly', it ran like crazy, and despite its popularity, Homelander and you still hated each other's guts. The fans expected the picture portrait chemistry off screen, and neither of you really understood what they meant. Until Season 8, that is...

"There's about twenty of them." Homelander stated, as he eyed the side of the warehouse.

"Perfect! Half and half." You cocked your guns and the both of you started towards the double doors, leading in through the back. There was a body cam on you, one on Homelander, and a cameraman, one of several as some of them had been 'accidentally' into the mix of shoots and dangerous fights.

"Last time you said that, you killed one of my guys." Homelander stated, pointing a finger at you in warning not to make the same mistake again.

"We'll just separate everyone as we go, okay?" You stood back as Homelander kicked the chained doors open, the shots started firing almost instantly. One thing Homelander could respect you for was that you kept up very nicely, for a meatbag that was. You were fit and vigilant and would have made a fantastic hero, if you had powers.

Homelander grabbed you by the back collar of your vest, tossing you gently up to a catwalk that crossed the warehouse, where you easily shot at four of the criminals. Homelander skillfully did his work, lasers flying around, punching threw chest and throwing people out of the roof. You both finally came to the last guy, he was unarmed. You were out of ammo and mags. You holstered your gun and grinned at him.

"Is this one mine?"

"Sure is," Homelander cringed a bit, the guy was bit and hefty, twice your size. "Unless you want me to handle this one." The man's eyes widened and he shook his head, then raised his fists toward her.

"Nope, I got it." As always, you struggled fighting against the bigger ones, but you always caught up. Homelander stood off to the side, herring you on even as you got your face punched or as you were thrown against a storage container.

"Keep going, (Y/N)! Just shout if you need help." He would mock, arms crossed, that one camera man looking in in horror. Finally you grabbed the back of the guy's head and drilled your knee into his face, he dropped to the side unconscious. Breathing heavily, bloodied face, fists clenched and sweating pooling off your skin, you kicked him one last time. You nearly fell back if Homelander hadn't been there to prop a firm hand against the middle of your back. "I knew it." He grinned, wiping a hand across the bruise on your cheek. "I could have done better, but..."

"Oh, fuck you, you pile of heroic shit." The both of you started to walk side by side back out of the front, where several cameras waited and the camera crew stood to finish the episode. You both turned to eachother and stared, you placed your hands on your hips.

"Not too bad, supershitter." You said with a huff after finally catching your breath.

"You too, officer, you too." But it felt dull, something was off, the air was thick and the wind was a bit too breezy for your taste.

"Cut!" The director came forward from the crowd, smiling with that off smile, he could feel it too. "We are going to run this ending again. Why don't you guys kiss, or something?"

"What?!" You narrowed your eyes on the director, that was where you drew the line.

"No. Not happening." Homelander chuckled, like it was some joke. You didn't know why his denial offended you right then and there, but it did.

"What am I not pretty enough for you? Fucking jerk." The director slowly started to back peddle, gesturing to the cameras to start rolling again. Homelander held his palms up in surrender and shrugged.

"You have blood and shit all over your face, why would I want to kiss you?"

"Oh, so if I didn't have shit on my face, you would do it?" You saw Homelander hesitate for a moment before returning to that same confident swagger of his.

"No, I never said that."

"Well, then what the fuck is the problem?! Why wouldn't you kiss me? Hmm?"

"Why does it bother you so much?" He jested, hands now on his hips and he stepped closer. He had to tilt his gaze down to consider your tinier self.

"Why does it bother you that it bothers me?" His eyebrows furrowed to contest.

"It doesn't bother me." He spat, you crossed your arms and smirked evilly, only really wanting the last word. It didn't matter if he kissed you, or not, right?

"I think it does. I think you are lying." You teased.

"What makes you say that?"

"Because if it didn't bother you, you would just kiss me and get this shit over with."

"Fine." You didn't expect him to just go with it, your eyes widened as you stared up at him, hands dropping to your sides. Then you shook your head, pulling yourself back into thst glare.

"Fine, then." And you both leaned into each other, tight lips pressing together, and you hated yourself but you enjoyed the contact more than you'd like to admit. Everything was quiet, so quiet a pin could drop on the asphalt and everyone would be able to hear it. You gasped when Homelander's hands snaked around your waist, and your own hands found his biceps for support as you were slightly lifted off the ground. The gasp opened your lips and Homelander's tongue slid through and the kiss deepened as your mouths opened up and fought for dominance. Homelander held you tighter as he then ascended thousands of feet up into the sky. You gripped him harder and cried out, cheek pressing to his, now too high up for the cameras to find you.

"Hom-John, what the fuck, man?! Put us down!"

"Shut up." And he kissed you again, then soaring you both through the sky towards a destination unknown. You were so lost in the kiss at that point, that it didn't matter where you were going. This was the last thing you expected to happen, ever, in a million years. But you weren't going to complain...

Meanwhile, the camera crew and director stood down below in shocked silence. The silence was soon broken by the director's words:

"That was absolutely fucking perfect! Cut scene!"

Master List

[get-me-a-coffee-dipshit]

Hello, I've reached 100 followers on Tumblr! I have no idea how I did it because I was just reblogging posts and pictures that I liked, so thank you all so much ❤

So, here's a Reed900 story for you amazing people. I hope you like it!

-WAKE UP-

Gavin slowly opened his eyes, looked at the white ceiling. He must have slept in the wrong position, his muscles were hurting. He stretched carefully, closing his eyes as he yawned loudly. When he finally got up and glanced where he was, his brain stopped.

This wasn't his house. Actually, this place didn't look like anywhere he knew. When his own house was a small studio apartment, this room was almost the size of his house.

What the fuck was going on?

He listened nervously to hear any signs of life other than him inside the house. He heard faint sounds.

"Hey, anybody here?" He called out anxiously. His only answer was the continuing sounds.

He looked around for a tool to protect himself, found nothing.

He rubbed his sweaty palms to his pants and swallowed. Trying not to panic too much, he walked towards where the sound came from as quietly as possible. When he reached the source of the sound, he froze in place with what he saw.

Connor... Connor was there, and he was doing something on the kitchen counter like everything was normal.

So, Connor was the one brought Gavin here.

He was kidnapped.

"You fucking tincan!" Although he tried not to project the fear that covered his brain like fog into his voice, he was hardly successful. "What the fuck are you thinking you are doing?" He took a shaky step toward to him.

The Android didn't even react to him, didn't even pause. He just kept doing what he did.

"Hey, I'm talking to you asshole!" He tried again.

Nothing.

Gavin realized that besides fear, he was starting to get angry. This dipshit could not first bring him to a place he never knew without his consent and then ignore him.

He reached the android with quick steps and tried to turn him harsly to himself.

But it didn't happened. His hand passed through the android's body.

"What the fuck?" He staggered back in horror. He looked at his hand with enlarged eyes and tried to make sense of what he had just seen. It's a dream- no. This must have been a nightmare. There could be no other explanation.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

He closed his eyes tightly and pinched his arm painfully.

"Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. This is a nightmare. Wake up..."

Although he tried different methods over and over again, it didn't work.

Mad at his failure, he hit his hand to the wall and growled. As if it wasn't enough that the fucking androids were trouble for him in real life, now they were getting into his nightmares.

"Nines, you're spoiling me.” He jumped with the sudden voice. It was he who spoke, but those words wasn't belong to his own mouth.

He whirled around, saw himself. No. What he was looking at was not a mirror. It was literally himself. Another Gavin.

This other Gavin was like the opposite of him. There was no sign of the usual frown on his face. He had warmth in his eyes and his posture was relaxed. He was looking directly at Connor.

"You are worth it, my love. Especially today." A thick voice answered the other Gavin, made him whirl around once more. For the first time since waking up in this strange house, he saw the android's face clearly.

He was wrong. This android wasn't Connor. But he looked almost as similar to him as his twin. The only thing that set them apart was this android's gray eye color and sharper facial features.

There was a peaceful smile on his face.

The other Gavin chuckled and approached the android, wrapping his arms around his neck and giving him a small kiss on the lips.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Happy forty or something. You don't need to celebrate my aging. I'll keep being pain in your ass for a long time."

Android's loud laughter echoed in the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around the other Gavin's waist and pulled him to himself, pressing his forehead against to other. "No matter how old you are, you are always beautiful to me. Also..." He nuzzled his nose to other's neck. "I have no complaints about you being pain in my ass."

While all this was happening, Gavin was frozen where he was, just watching. It was definitely the most realistic nightmare he had ever seen and he had no idea what experience is affected him in real life and made him see this nightmare.

After a long kiss, the android reluctantly separated his lips from the other Gavin and put what he had prepared on the tray.

"Come on, we're having breakfast on the balcony today."

"Great." Other Gavin paused. "I'm coming in a minute."

The gray eyed android gave the other Gavin a meaningful glance and nodded, left the kitchen.

As Gavin thought about what could be weirder, the other Gavin turned his eyes towards him. He wasn't exactly looking into his eyes, but he seemed aware of his existence.

Other Gavin came close to him and cleared his throat. "Hey. Gavin." He continued after pausing for a while, as if he were collecting words in his head. "I don't know if you're there, but I'll take my chances."

He raised his hand and extended it to him as if he wanted to touch him, but at the last moment he gave up and lowered it.

"It's not the nightmare like you think it is. This is a reality. This is your future. Unless you run away from him." He took a deep breath and his eyes filled with plea. "Please. Please don't refuse him when he comes to you. I know. Now you hate androids, but he'll change your mind and give you all the love you need. You'll be happier than you can imagine. So, I'm begging you. Please give him a chance."

Then he slowly retreated, turned and walked away. Left bewildered Gavin there.

___

Gavin awoke with ache in various parts of his body, especially in his neck. As if the ache was not annoying enough, there were also beepings that gave the feeling that they would pierce his head.

He wrinkled his nose and frowned, opened his eyes. His tired look turned confused with what he saw.

The ceiling that greeted him didn't belong anywhere he knew. Taking deep breaths, he slowly turned his head and looked at where he was.

The beeping was coming from the heart monitor, and there was a flower bouquet and lots of notes on the little table beside the bed.

Hospital.

But... But what was happened? How did he end here?

He swallowed and forced his brain to think. The last time he was at DPD, he was filling out a report. Then when he got up and went to the breakroom for coffee, Connor had caught his attention, the tincan was heading for the archive room when he should left the building.

He was suspicious and followed the android, found him in the archive room holding the head of a dead android.

They fought and.... Oh.

Since he woke up in the hospital, that tincan must have beaten him well. Great. The people in the department now would make fun of him for days.

But these were all things to think about later. He had to get out of here now.

He turned his head to the other side to find the button to call the nurse, and at that moment he noticed something in the corner of the room that he hadn't noticed before.

"What the fuck?"

The person who was looking at him quietly from the corner of the room took a few steps towards the bed but he stopped when Gavin tried to pull back with panic and fastening heart rate. After indecisively opening and closing his mouth several times, he was finally able to pull the words out of his mouth.

"Hello Detective Reed. I'm RK900. I came he-"

"Are you here to finish what your brother left unfinished?" Gavin sputtered with a thin voice. If this android came to kill him, he didn't think he could survive in this state.

Android furrowed his eyebrows, his led turned red. "No. I..." He lowered his gaze to the ground for a few seconds and then made eye contact with him again. "I'm... I'm your new partner."

A hysterical laugh rose from his throat, which he could not prevent. All of this was a joke. It was supposed to be a joke. But his laughter cut short as the android's face remained with the same seriousness.

Fuck.

"You are not joking."

Android raised one eyebrow. "No, Detective Reed. I'm indeed not joking."

Anger surrounded Gavin so fast. He hit the bed with his hand and hissed through his teeth. "So how does Fowler think that I will accept you as my partner when an android, especially one that looks like your twin, that made me this!"

"Actually, I wanted to be your partner." Android explained.

Gavin's eyes widened. "You wanted?"

This time, his led was yellow. "Yes?"

"Are you deviant?"

"Yes, while you are unconscious, revolution is happened. We are free now."

"You are joking."

"No, again, I'm completely serious."

"Well... Well..." Gavin moved his eyes around the room to find something to say. "I don't fucking want you!" He yelled harshly.

Stepping back after his yell, android avoided his eyes, the led was stuck in red again... For a minute the android did not look back at him, and when he looked, the feelings he saw in the gray eyes stunned Gavin.

Android was looking like... Human.

"I...I know you hate androids...but..." Android placed his hand on his own chest. "I have a feeling that we can get along. Give me a month. If you still don't want me after a month, I promise I'll ask the Captain for another partner. Please... give our partnership a chance."

Please give our partnership a chance.

Suddenly, images began to fill up in Gavin's mind. The images he saw while he was asleep.

The gray eyed man- android in the kitchen.

Fond kisses.

Himself. Happy. His eyes full of life.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What he saw was not a dream.

Then what was it?

"Detective Reed?"

He shrugged from his thoughts and fixed his eyes on the android. Same face. Same eyes. Same tone of voice. It was all the same.

"You..." He couldn't get a continuation of the words.

Android carefully approached him as if approaching a wild animal, slowly sat on the edge of his bed.

"Are you okay?" He talked with worry.

Was he okay? He didn't even know it himself. All he knew was his own voice begging in his ears.

"Please give him a chance."

"Please give him a chance."

"Please give him a chance."

"Please give him a chance."

'Don't accept, tell him to fuck off.'

'But what if you regret it?'

'You don't need a tincan.'

'But you need somebody.'

He buried his face in his hands in defeat. Fuck. He had to do it, didn't he? If he didn't, he'd think 'what ifs' for the rest of his life.

'It's only a month,' he thought.

He was still nervous about the androids. For fuck's sake, one of them nearly broke his neck, how could he not be? Maybe this uneasiness would never pass, maybe he would regret this partnership and would turn this newly deviant android's life hell.

But he would still take the advice of his future self and give the android in front of him a chance.

After all... No one could know him better than himself, right?

He lifted his face from his hands, examined the android opposite him with a scowl, and grunted.

"What kind of name is RK900? I can't always address you like that, it's so mouthful. I will call you Nines. Okay, dipshit?"

Android's suddenly sparkling eyes and smile were very similar to what Gavin saw while he was sleeping.

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Sweet Pea//i have called you darlin' and i'll say it again

Request: Can I request a super fluffy Sweet Pea/Reader, the song Make you Mine by Public is kinda song I'd recommend listening to for it, not necessarily a song fic but just like Sweet Pea flirting/crushing on reader sort of thing

hey! so i had an idea for this and i really hope you like it! its a bit different to how i usually write and maybe a little different to what you were expecting. but i dunno, i just really liked the idea. i hope you do too! (if you don’t just tell me and i’ll write something else because this is a little different to the request) also, ‘lips’ is an inside joke between me and my girlfriend, and this is going to look really weird here but if you read on you’ll get what I mean. 

From the moment Sweet Pea saw you, he knew you were the one. 

He’d finally made it to the end of the first week of college, and with the help of his roommates he’d been invited to the first party of the school year. 

If you’d asked him a year ago where he would be in 12 very long months, he definitely would not have said stood in a frat house, playing beer pong a bunch of Chad’s and Jason’s. But here he is, and to his surprise he’s actually enjoying it. A lot more than he thought he would. 

He knows he probably should be back in his dorm, studying or sleeping or whatever freshman are supposed to be doing. But after the first week he’s still feeling a little lost. He doesn’t have any of his friends as Toni and Fangs both went to different college’s in different parts of the country. Classes are long, homework’s confusing and teachers are rude. 

He’s surrounded by people that are so different from the ones back home, and so he can’t help feeling that he sticks out just a little bit. He’s unsure about the world of college, and so maybe going to a party will help him understand everything a little better.  

But then he see’s you and everything falls into place. 

You’re stood on the other side of the crowded room, a small red cup in your hand that matches those of the people around him and he looks down at his own drink, realizing that maybe he should have poured the bottle into the plastic cups everybody seems to have, even if they are ridiculously small and make him look like a giant. 

You’re laughing, your head tilted back, your nose scrunched up, your eyes closed as the people around you join in. Your little group seemingly in their own world. Complexity unaffected by the loud music and even louder people. 

He realizes he probably looks at least a little weird just staring at some stranger, but he can’t take his eyes away from you. He’s being pulled towards you, he has a need to talk to you, like his entire future balances on you. 

It takes a while, but he eventually talks to you. And after some awkward moments, the two of you are stood in the kitchen. He’s happy for the first time since he left Riverdale. You laugh at something he said that wasn’t meant to be funny and he feels the entire world fall away around him. It’s just you and him. Him trying desperately to make you laugh, and you doing it probably out of pity. 

You suggest a walk after a few minutes of shouting ‘what’ at each other trying to be heard over the music. And when he raises an eyebrow in surprise, you notice and make sure to to tell him it’s nothing funny, it’s just to talk. He agrees and you grab his hand, pulling him through the living room. 

You ask him if he knows what a french exit is and he shakes his head. You smile at him, its small but no less breathtaking and full of questions he wants answers to. ‘I’ll show you’ you say and for a second he’s worried that he’s got himself involved in something sketchy, something that Fangs told him he would have to be prepared for, something of which he told him to ‘fuck off’ for. 

But then you grab his hand and pull him towards the back door. It slams shut behind you and you’re both left standing in the back garden. It’s cold, an autumn breeze hanging around but it’s a welcome on your warm skin and you hope in the darkness that he can’t see the soft blush that dusts your cheeks.  

He watches you look around, a confused expression on your face before you look back at him, a slightly embarrassed smile settling on your lips. ‘I thought we could get out this way’. He laughs, making your smile brighten and even though you still feel embarrassed it’s not so bad anymore. 

‘We could climb over the fence.’ He suggests, you follow his gaze until the two of you are staring at a large wooden fence.

“Are you being serious?’ You ask, blinking at him. 

“It’s not that high.” 

“Maybe not for you, big foot.” 

“Wow, like I haven’t heard that one before.” He says eventually. 

“You know what they say, college is about new experiences.” You send him a sarcastic smile, to which he just laughs and shakes his head at. “Speaking of, if you want to climb over that, you’re going to have to help.” 

“Or we could just go back in and go through the front door.” He says, looking back at the house but you’re already stood by the fence, waiting with your arms crossed. 

“Nope.” You shake your head. “Once you’ve french exited, you can’t go back.” 

“French exited? Is that a word?” He asks, getting on one knee so he can help you over the fence. You smile at him before throwing your bag over the fence and grab his shoulder, ready for him to push you up. 

“Yep.” You reply, pushing yourself up and over the fence. 

“In what language?” He asks, following you shortly after. Both of you land with a thud, thankfully on your feet but Sweet Pea still gets a glare after narrowly missing your bag. 

“Mine.” 

“How did you get into college?” He asks sarcastically. 

You start to wander down the street, not waiting for him and it takes him a few seconds before he notices you’ve gone. The moon hides behind the clouds and you sigh, disappointed that there’s no stars out tonight. He watches you look up at the sky and follows your gaze. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You reply, looking back at him with a soft smile. 

“I would actually.”

He hears you sigh, deciding that tonight just a glimpse of the moon will have to be good enough, before footsteps start again. 

But he continues to look up at the sky, watching a future he so desperately wants paint itself on the cloudy canvas. 

A shy friendship that slowly evolves the more you get to know each other. With flirty conversations that always border on something else, both of you terrified to step a toe over the line. It’s filled with innuendos that neither of you pick up on until it’s too late or that make the other blush like mad.

Longing looks when the other isn’t looking that keep you up half the night. And awkward eye contact followed by weird smiles on the rare occasion that you’re caught.  

Brushing of fingers when you reach for the same thing...

“I’ve told you before, and I’ll tell you again. Stop putting the snacks on the top shelf.” 

“This is my house?!” 

“And?” 

And nudging of elbows when one of your other friends says something stupid. Both of you sharing a look because you know for a fact when you’re alone you’re going to laugh about whatever’s been said. 

Looking forward to the next day just because you get to see them and constantly checking your phone as you wait for text. Spending hours thinking of different excuses to hang out with another and even more hours afterwards thinking about the time spent together. 

Inside jokes that confuse others around you but make you both laugh louder than anybody else. 

“Hey. Hey. Hey. Sweet Pea?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Lips.”

“Okay, what the fuck does that even mean? Why are you both laughing so hard? What is so funny about lips!?!!” 

Tight chests when you see them laughing loudly with someone else. Wanting to be with each other all the time, just by their side. You don’t even have to do anything, you just want to spend time with each other. Checking to see if they’re laughing at something you’ve just said and feeling an indescribable heartache when they’re not paying any attention. 

Watching for the other to walk into a room, and when they finally arrive and smile at you, its like your whole body smiles back at them. It doesn’t matter if its at a party, a class or if they’re just visiting your dorm. 

Wanting to be the only thing they see, wanting their heart and soul. 

And when your other friends question or tease you about it, you always deny it, even if the redness of your cheeks say otherwise. And always having each others backs despite how much it might hurt. 

“Darlin-I mean Y/n.” 

“Did you just call her darling?” 

“Wha-no. I didn’t!” 

“Oh my god! Yes you did. You just called Y/n darling.” 

“I didn-” 

“Y/n, you heard that right?” 

“Nope, I dunno what you guys are talking about.” 

“thank you.” 

Thinking about what it would be like to kiss them, what their lips would feel like against yours. How they would kiss you. Would it be soft and gentle or rushed? How their hands would feel on your skin or in your hair. 

Awkward first dates turn into weekly movie dates as a couple, filled with making out more than watching the actual film and more pizza than you can both handle. Its spent laughing at cheesy rom-coms and Sweet Pea’s aversion to horror films. 

You sneaking out the next morning, trying hard not to wake his roommate, despite him knowing you’re there. And Sweet Pea always asks the same question. 

“Are you french exiting me?” 

To which you always reply, “No, and I thought that wasn’t a word.”

“To you it is so I suppose I’ll let it go.” 

You meeting his friends during the holidays, and them loving you. You and Toni talking about how hard college is, and Fangs telling you every single embarrassing Sweet Pea story, his favourite being the almost threesome with Toni and somebody else. Both Sweet Pea and Toni hate it when he tells that story, especially because he tells literally every single person he meets. Thankfully though, you find it funny but promise to not talk about it ever again. 

He meets your family and friends the next holiday and it’s your tun to be embarrassed, although none of your stories can beat his though so you don’t feel so bad. You spend the week stealing kisses when no one’s around and making sly remarks about your aunt, uncle and their snotty kid, who’s older than you but acts like a spoilt 8 year old. It’s Sweet Pea that suggests the french exit one night after dinner and thats when you realize you love him. 

He looks after you when you’re sick, and you do the same. You watch your favourite movies, cuddled up together under a mountain of blankets and tissues, despite protests of the other one getting sick. And when they inevitably do, the favour is returned. You don’t how you’re both not just constantly sick. 

There’s arguments that feel like they won’t end and days that you just don’t want to end. 

Shouting and crying and slamming of doors that always ends in long hugs and whispered apologies. 

You graduate together, one straight after the other and the two of you are smiling the entire day. Toni, Fangs and your family have flown over to see you both graduate, and they’re equally proud of you both. 

You get ready together but Sweet Pea still feels breathless when he see’s you. A small ‘wow’ escaping his lips as he watches you twirl around your room. He grabs your arm and spins you around, earning a surprised squeal from you. 

You’re never far apart from each other the whole day, wanting to be next to each other at all times. And it comes in handy when Fangs gets drunk and you have to stop him telling the threesome story to your parents. 

You made it! You did college! Well done! Now what though?

It’s time to go out into the real world and Sweet Pea feels like he did all those years ago at that party. Lost. He doesn’t know what he wants to do, where he’s going to live. 

But he watches you sleeping peacefully beside him and he knows whatever he chooses it’ll be okay, because you’re there with him. 

You figure your lives out together, making sure that the other is always a part of it. And after a while of working in some slightly stressful jobs, that aren’t really what you want to do but something you need to do to live, you save enough money to rent an apartment. It’s small, but it’ll do for now. And the two of you have fun searching for cheap furniture to fill it with. Nothing matches but its perfect and you don’t want it anyway else. 

He cooks, you do the dishes and you dance in the kitchen when certain songs come on. 

The song that were played at the party when you met and Sweet Pea can never remember the name of it so you always have to remind him. 

“Darlin’, whats that song called again? You know which one I’m on about. La, la, la, la.” 

“Make You Mine, Sweet Pea. And it’s 3am, go to sleep.” 

“Yeah! Thats the one...hey Y/n. Whats it called again?” 

“Make You Mine.” 

“Already am baby.” 

“You’re an idiot.”

The song you sang as you walked down the street together later that night, because he said something that reminded you of it. 

“Take me to your best friends, I love you then, I’ll love you now!” 

“What?” 

“You were talking about your friend Fangs.” You say, now very embarrassed at your sudden outburst. 

“His house is a bit far away but we can go if you want.” He replies making you laugh loudly.

When he gets back to his dorm the next morning, he makes a playlist, the first song in it being that one. He calls it ‘for y/n’, and he continues to add to it constantly. 

It’s got the one that reminds him of you, and to this day he still tries to fit your name into and fails miserably but it still makes you laugh and thats why he continues does it. 

That one song that played in the car on the way to getting groceries that he shout-sang for some reason and you both ended up sat in the parking lot for an extra ten minutes just singing. 

It has your go-to karaoke song that you have a little dance routine made up for, that you occasionally still practice in the kitchen, just so your moves are the best they can be for karaoke. 

He plays Make You Mine while proposing. What started as doing the dishes after dinner, ending in both of you crying while lying in a heap on the floor after you jumped on him. 

And its played again as your first dance at your wedding, but again, what starts as a very sweet and serious dance ends in you doing the routine from your karaoke song. 

He grabs your hand when everyone is too drunk to notice you’re both missing, pulling you through the endless corridors of the hotel you’re in. 

“What are we doing?” You ask as you clutch your dress with the other hand. 

“Do you know what a french exit is?” He replies, making you roll your eyes. 

“I do yes. How do you know what one is?” 

“Oh, a pretty girl showed me once.” 

“And where’s this pretty girl now?” 

“She’s married to some loser.” He shrugs making you glare at him. 

“Hey, that ‘loser’ is my best friend. And I know for a fact that whoever is marrying him is the luckiest woman in the world.” You scold and he rolls his eyes. 

He pulls you through the back door and the two of you stare the fence in front of you. 

“I thought we could get out this way.” He sighs. 

“We could always climb over it.” You say, squeezing his hand and sending him cheeky smile. “But you will have to help me.” 

“Always.”

“Sweet Pea? Are you even paying attention?” Kyle asks, hitting the serpents arm gently. Sweet Pea blinks, staring at the group of boys stood around the ping pong table. 

“Are you okay?” Another asks. “You kinda zoned out for a few minutes.” 

“I-er. Yeah.” He shakes his head. “I’m gonna go get some air.” He says dazed. He places the cup gently on the table before walking away, he feels dizzy and he has no idea whats just happened.

But then he see’s you and everything falls into place. 

Laughing with your friends, your head tilted, your nose scrunched up, your eyes screwed shut, and the whole world stops. 

An entire future between the two of you waiting to be lived. A whole life waiting to happen.

He just has to talk to you. 

So he takes a deep breath and slowly makes his way across the crowded room to where you’re stood. 

It feels like the whole world has stilled as he looks at you, waiting patiently for you to finish your conversation with a dark haired girl, it looks purple in the lighting but he’s can’t be sure, and then he realizes that the hair colour of a stranger isn’t exactly the most important thing right now. 

She’s the first to notice him, she glances between him and you before a small smile twitches at her lips, and within seconds she’s gone, taking the rest of the group with. You frown and watch as they leave, confused as to where they’re going. 

Sweet Pea coughs awkwardly making you jump and turn around. The room goes quiet, the noise from the music and shouting falls away as he looks at you, a confused expression pulling softly at your features, as your gaze makes its way up to his face. The confusion is quickly replaced with a smile. Its bright and warm and it makes Sweet Pea smile in return. 

“Hi.” You lean into him, trying to be heard over the music and Sweet Pea momentarily forgets how to breathe. 

“Hi.” He replies, also leaning in. He’s trying so hard to play it cool, and at first it works, that is until he leans in too far and smacks his head off yours. “Shit sorry.” He says quickly, clutching his head while you do the same to your own. 

He’s fucked it. He knows he has. He’s definitely fucked it. 

“Its fine.” You laugh. “Don’t worry about it. What’s your name?” 

“Sweet Pea.” 

“Y/n.” You reply. “Do you want to get a drink?” 

[carpe-somnium]

The night Dazai left the Port Mafia

They entered the seemingly small chapel, after Chuuya had his fun with the guards outside. Pathetic, they could at least have made it a little harder for him. It was boringly easy for him to beat them up and stack them in a pile. Dazai sighed dramatically as he took the first step down the dark hardwood steps.

“Dammit. This is the worst day in years.”

He waved his hand to underline the statement. The Worst day in years, eh? Chuuya thought about this for a second. Usually, he doesn’t really keep track of his worst days; only if they were pure horror, so it was hard not to think about them. That unwillingly made him think about the worst day he had in the past couple of years.

“Yo Dazai, ever heard of Pétrus?”

He didn’t really know why he decided to bring up the topic. Maybe it was to rub it into Dazai’s face, how much he did not miss him at all.

“The flabbergastingly expensive wine.”

Dazai almost sounded bored as he answered Chuuya’s question. Probably because Chuuya always talks about wine, or at least thats what was Dazai’s impression of him. He didn’t really listen closely to the Chibi, anyway.

“The night you vanished from the organization, I opened an ’89 bottle in celebration.”

To keep up with Dazai’s pace, Chuuya jumped down a small set of stairs, and gracefully landed on one of the platforms, which was a turning point of the staircase, without making a sound.

“That’s how sick of you I was.”

Now he has said it. He didn’t ever bother telling anybody about this, since there was nobody who could have seen him that day, anyway. But for some reason, the urge to tell it directly to Dazai’s face the first time they were on a mission again, was just too big.

“I remember setting a bomb under your car that night.”

“That was your doing?!”

That actually explained a lot. Chuuya would never admit it, but this was the defining reason, why he didn’t go and look for Dazai that night, and instead drank the entire bottle of wine. He often had wondered if it was a coincidence, that his car had blown up, just as he pressed the remote button to unlock it. Dazai must have known, that he would always press it, when he was a few meters away from his car, out of an impatient habit. He didn’t even have a scratch in the end, despite his car blowing up into a million pieces.

All of that has happened on a breezy autumn day. Chuuya had woken up with a strange feeling in his guts that morning, but he didn’t give into it. He had a solo mission this day, a very welcome alteration to his usual partner-missions he had with Dazai. It would cost him fewer nerves if he was on his own. The mission was relatively simple, so it was clear from the start that there would be no scenario where he would have had to use corruption. This was reserved to difficult partner-missions with dimwit Dazai so there was at least a chance of survival for him.

When Chuuya returned from his mission however, the atmosphere in the Port Mafias headquarters had changed. Everybody seemed to be on edge, the air basically felt electric. It only fuelled his bad gut feeling, but still he didn’t give in. He probably had eaten something wrong that day.

Chuuya returned to Mori’s office to give him a first report of his successful mission and the files he had acquired. With a smug grin on his lips, he walked up to the Port Mafias leader and stretched out his hand with the files. He told the leader briefly how the mission went along and concluded it by saying: “It went even smoother than we thought. No problem at all.”

Mori took the files with a small smile and nodded. “Thank you Chuuya. You can rest now.” That was weird. Usually, he at least suggested writing down a report, just in case there would be issues concerning the mission in the future. He shrugged it off and thanked Mori as he went to the door. When Chuuya’s gloved hand touched the doorknob, he heard Mori clear his throat, so he turned around to face his boss, who was still sitting in his chair.

“Oh before I forget it... Unfortunately, Dazai left our organization today when you were away on that mission. For future missions, you will need a new partner.”

Chuuya froze in place, his hand clenching around the doorknob. His bad gut feeling instantly exploded into a rush of shock that washed over the redhead without warning. Dazai left our organization today. He repeated Mori’s words in his head a few times, until he realized that he was still standing in front of the door and had been staring at it, instead of opening it.

“Very well... Thank you for informing me. I’m glad that I don’t have to babysit this waste of bandages any more.”

Chuuya opened the door and walked out of Mori’s office, his body feeling weirdly numb all of a sudden. He didn’t understand why he was so shocked. Why wasn’t he running down the halls, cheering on top of his lungs because that bastard was gone? Instead, he had to force himself to walk down the hallway.

Dazai left our organization today.

Dazai left our organization today.

Dazai left our organization today.

Mori’s words repeated on the inside of his skull, over and over again. They seemed to burn themselves into his body, he just couldn’t stop thinking about this. He had to find Dazai. Convince him to come back. This was clearly a mistake. One of his sick jokes that he liked to pull. He can’t be gone. Not like this. Not without saying a damn word to his partner. But on the other hand... why would he have said anything? They hated each other, right?

Without thinking too much about his actions, Chuuya went to the parking spots on the back of the building. Down the stairs, not making eye contact with anybody on the way. They all better minded their own businesses. With an unnecessary amount of  force, Chuuya kicked the backdoor open - or more like kicked the door out of its angles. At this point, he saw red. If he found that damn boy, he would beat him up until he came to his senses. It just wasn’t fair to leave him - no, to leave the Port Mafia - like this!

Chuuya pressed the small emblem button on the keys of his BMW to unlock it, still walking forward in the direction his car was parked. Not even a second later, the world went silent. It forced Chuuya to stop dead in his tracks for the second time in the span of not even an hour. He watched in a strange state of awe and shock how his red BMW exploded in front of his eyes. Instinctively, he started manipulating his own gravity, so nothing would hit him, but that was almost unnecessary. Almost like the person who had placed the bomb knew he would stand far enough away to leave the scene without a scratch. Even though this really sounded like a Dazai kind of thing, he couldn’t quite believe it.

And that was the exact moment, when Chuuya gave in to all the feelings that had built up inside him that day. He dropped to his knees, his own gravity manipulated, so he was ten times heavier than usual, and started to scream on top of his lungs. It felt good to scream. It felt good to destroy. It felt good to have the rage pump through his veins like hot poison, fuelling his frustration even more.

He didn’t know how long he had sat there on his knees, screaming out the frustration and anger that had built up in his body all day, but eventually his throat became sore and not a single sound escaped through his lips any more. This idiot. This fucking idiot. He always knew how to tease Chuuya until he basically exploded with rage, just as his car did right in front of his eyes. Dazai was probably hiding somewhere around, right? Laughing about his success. Breaking the charade. Laughing at Chuuya because he actually believed that Dazai had left the Port Mafia. That Dazai had left him. But Chuuya didn’t hear laughter. He didn’t see a mop of brown hair or a lanky idiot wrapped in bandages. A burning car and a destroyed parking lot, that’s all there was.

Chuuya got up and wiped some dirt off his pants. He took a quick look around in the parking lot, hoping that nobody had seen his silly outburst. And then he started to laugh. Laughed about himself. About how stupid he was. He was finally free, wasn’t he? So why not enjoy the newfound peace? Without noticing it, he had started to cry. Hot drops of salty tears had started trailing down his cheeks. Probably due to the thick smoke that came off the car wreck. A little annoyed, he wiped the tears off his face and went back inside, silently still cursing Dazai as he went to his room.

When he entered the room, Chuuya slammed the door shut behind him with a loud bang. He stripped out of his coat and vest, which smelled like smoke, and carelessly threw both to the ground, shoes and hat following them only seconds later. Chuuya went to the small cabinet that had his most prized possessions in it - a lot of very old wine bottles. With a quick look around the cabinet, he found what he was looking for. The slightly dusty bottle of ‘89 Pétrus looked like just what he wanted to celebrate with. He grabbed the bottle and opened it by manipulating the cork’s gravity a bit. That was one of the most useful things, his ability allowed him to do.

He grabbed one of his lead crystal wine glasses and poured some wine into it, after he sat down in the leather chair next to the window, that was facing the port. The first sip of the expensive wine felt like the first breath after you had your head underwater for a while. It filled up Chuuya’s senses. The slightly sweet smell in his nose, accompanied by a sweet and sour taste in his mouth and the alcohol quickly spreading throughout his body, numbing some of the tension that had built up inside. He would never admit it, but Chuuya was actually a bit of a lightweight, so the effect of the alcohol kicked in pretty quickly. But it wasn’t enough to make him forget why he started celebrating.

Drinking actually had a reverse effect on him: He couldn’t stop thinking about it. Just why would he leave without a word? Chuuya just couldn’t understand it. He had to understand it. Even if they were bickering all the time, deep down he still cared about the suicidal maniac that was - no, used to be - his partner.

One glass of wine followed another, unitl the bottle was empty way too quickly for Chuuyas liking. He had drank it all on his own and ended up laying on the floor, staring holes in the ceiling. His thoughts eventually got slowed down by the alcohol that intoxicated his body. He cursed Dazai’s name so often in those lonely hours in his room, slightly hoping that would be enough to summon that damn demon. But Dazai didn’t come. So he fell asleep like this, cursing Dazais name, curled up into on the floor.

The demon whose name was cursed by a small redhead miles away meanwhile sat in his favourite bar. Alone and unbothered by anything. He had done what Odasaku had told him: Dazai had left the mafia. Why was he feeling so shitty then? It already felt like he was missing something, even though it hadn’t been more than a few hours since he had walked off the Port Mafias grounds. Before leaving, he had left a bomb in Chuuya’s car, just in case. He knew that his ex-partner was impulsive and would try to chase him down and therefore making himself a traitor, too. But he also knew how important the Port Mafia was to Chuuya, so he just took this as an extra measure to save Chuuya from himself. It was just fair. His goodbye present. Dazai raised his glass to an invisible audience and then drank to his newfound freedom.

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AN: I looked everywhere but couldn’t find any clue about what Chuuya’s car might have looked like. Since he’s probably an aggressive driver, I had to decide between Audi and BMW but went with a BMW (a bit biased on this one :D). His red bike set the colour choice. If you happen to know what his car really looked like, please let me know, and I will change it!

Ao3-Link: