#this was NOT supposed to be this long oh my god…

[shanastoryteller]

Meg is the first choice, of course, but she’s not suited to this type of long term mission and they all know it. The problem is, almost none of them are. The nature of the beast, she supposes.

That’s why it ends up being her, in the end. Well, it’s almost Ruby, but there’s one thing she has that Ruby doesn’t.

How she ended up here in the first place.

She thought Clyde loved her. She thought he’d take her away, from her father and her terrible life, and so when he died too young, before he could fulfill any of his promises, she’d sold her soul to bring him back.

But he hadn’t kept a single promise. She’d died in her father’s house.

“You remember being in love, don’t you?” he asks, cruel in his callousness, which is different than his other types of cruelty. It’s all he has, shining out in a thousand different ways. “You’ll be better at faking it.”

All she does is fake it.

“Yes,” she says.

This mission gets her topside. It’s worth it for that alone.

~

She slips into a pretty blonde named Rebecca first but by the end of the day, the girl’s screaming has given her a headache, and she slips right back out. She’ll probably just think she had a bad trip.

He’d offered to arrange something for her, but she wanted to pick herself, and she’s not interested in having someone crying and moaning in the back of her mind. But it’s not like there are a lot of options.

She could kill one, of course. But she’s never – she hasn’t been topside, before. Everything she’s killed before had already been dead. So she hovers for the next week, looking for some sort of opportunity, for something she can use that’s not going to scream at her.

The day before she’s going to have to either pick someone or risk being sent back, there’s a car accident.

The girl’s heart is still and her body’s warm, blood pooling down her head, but that’s nothing she can’t fix. She settles into the body, jumpstarting the heart and can feel the skin on her head knitting back together. It’s also blessedly, thankfully silent, with her the only one inside this body. The driver who hit her is dead and people are crowding in, a crying girl pulling her free. “Anne! Anne, are you okay, oh my god, I can’t believe that happened-”

She wrinkles her nose before smoothing out her expression.

The name will have to go. She’ll say she’s reinventing herself after tragedy, or something, but she’s not going to walk around responding to Anne. That’s not her name.

Anne’s a sophomore, which isn’t ideal, but she’s beautiful and doesn’t have that many friends and barely talks to her family, so she’s actually perfect.

She’s also blonde.

She’d been blonde before too.

~

All the demons who had run these sort of missions before give her advice, tell her things that will help her. Some of their assignments had lasted months, but no one’s tried to do it for as long as she’s supposed to.

He likes smart girls.

Be confident. Be flirty. He’s shyer than he looks.

He never had a mother. He likes it when girls take care of him.

He likes to take care of girls too. He wants to feel useful.

She’d had dreams, before, of all the ways she’d could escape her father. It wasn’t common for girls to get more than a basic education, but she’d been smart. She could read and do complicated sums and enjoyed the quiet evenings when she balanced her father’s books. She’d thought she might like an advanced education, thought it could get her out of her life, but hadn’t known how to manage it.

Clyde had seemed easier. More attainable. More realistic.

She’d sold her soul for nothing in the end. She hadn’t even got the full ten years of her bargain.

She doesn’t know how much of their advice she can take.

She can be smart, but considering the school they’re at, all the girls will be smart. She hadn’t been confident or flirty, which is maybe why she’d latched onto the first boy who smiled at her. She never had a mother herself and doesn’t know to act like one.

She’s never been taken care of and doesn’t know how to do that either.

There’s no way for her to do this. She’s going to be replaced and sent back below and he’ll be angry at her and she hates hates hates when he’s angry at her, what he does to her.

“Are you okay?”

She looks up, something cold on her tongue, but falters.

He’s standing there, warm hazel eyes and long dark hair, hunching to try and make himself smaller, and a smile on his face that does nothing to hide his concern.

“Do you ever feel like,” she starts, her dead stolen heart beating too quickly, “everything is falling apart around you and you have no idea what you’re doing and like maybe your whole life is one huge mistake?”

Well, fuck. She’s definitely being replaced now.

Except Azazel’s favorite throws back his head and laughs, smile stretching into a grin. “Every day of my life, more or less.”

“How do you deal with it?” she asks, scrubbing a hand over her face.

He shrugs. “Well, my brother would say women and liquor.” He seems to realize how that sounds a moment later and he pales, “Um, not that I’m – I’m not saying, I wasn’t trying to. He’s just sort of a cad, and – I wasn’t trying to, with you, uh.”

She feels herself softening in spite of herself. “So you’re not one to apply that method yourself?”

“No,” he says firmly, eyes wide. “God, I’m just – I’m sorry. I – I’m Sam.”

“Hi Sam,” she returns, with a smile she doesn’t have to fake. “I’m Jess.”

~

She’s not supposed to fall in love with him.

She’s to worm his way to his side. She’s to keep him from running back to his family, to keep him from rebuilding the bridges he’s burned. She’s to keep him distracted and focused on her until his powers activate and then she’s to guide him into using them, to be supportive and loving and to push him straight into Azazel’s arms.

Sam loves his family so much.

He talks of his brother all the time. His father less, the emotions there more tangled, but love no less fierce.

She nudges him away from it, talks to him about how it’s normal for families to grow apart, to say that they’ll understand when he graduates, that he’ll show them they type of man that he is.

By the time he graduates, his powers will start manifesting, and he’ll avoid his family without her prodding. He knows what they’ll think of him, then, and Jess tells herself that she’s helping him. That this is for Sam’s own good.

If he’s with her, then he’s safe. His father won’t kill him while he’s safe at school. He can’t kill Sam for powers that he’ll never know about.

It’s easy to dig into the anger for his father, to use his last words to Sam as a way to hold him at her side. His brother is more difficult. Jess doesn’t do much with that, in the end, tells herself that it would be too complicated, too suspicious, and as long Dean is sticking with their father it amounts to same thing anyway.

The truth is more complicated.

His father will kill Sam if he has to.

She doesn’t think that his brother will. She thinks that maybe he’d choose to protect Sam, over their father’s wishes, over everything he’d been taught, no matter the consequences.

She fears that she and Dean have a lot in common.

She invites Sam over for holidays, makes summer plans with him, holds as much of his attention as she can manage.

She studies and makes friends and laughs and spends so much time with him, but not all of it. It has to be believable after all, has to be constant, in a way that it didn’t have to be with all the other demons sent to take care of him.

Jess lives a life that had been denied to her and tries to do what she was sent to do and does the one thing she was definitely not supposed to do, which is fall in love with Sam Winchester.

~

His brother shows up in their apartment and she knows that she’s going to lose him.

Sam tries to act angry, but she knows him too well. He’s moving around his brother like a flower following the sun and she asks him not to go, tries to find the words to keep him here, but they all get caught in her throat. If she begged, if she threw a fit, if she demanded it of him, he would stay. He’d tell his brother he’s sorry but he’d stay with her and not help him and burn their relationship for good. He loves her enough to do that for her. She knows it.

She loves him enough not to make him.

He kisses her and she knows it’ll be the last time. He doesn’t.

“What did that take, five minutes?” Azazel is right there, breath on the back of her neck, and his anger fury rage pressing down on her even closer. “Over three years at his side and you lost him in five minutes. What a waste.”

“I kept him for over three years,” she says, tries to keep her voice steady, but knows she fails.

She had him for over three years.

“Not good enough,” he whispers, lips on the shell of her ear. “Guess I’ll have to send Meg in after all.”

Pain erupts hot across her stomach and her screams mix with his laughter.

~

Love always burns her in the end.

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as love tropes: kwon soonyoung

love at first sight (or meet cute au)

'did you hear wedding bells ring? cause that's what i heard when i saw you'

it wasn't supposed to happen. hoshi knew better but he's been sitting at the hotel whole day and boredom clung to his whole body like that stupid fly on the ceiling that refused to budge no matter how many pillows you threw her way. and he knows that it's all for his own safety, knows that fans went ballistic since they learned he landed in this city and he knows that his managers actually want only the best for him. it's just their version of best for him is basically imprisoning him in the hotel and hoshi's version of best for him is letting him roam around the city unguarded. so yes, him walking out of the hotel unsupervised was not supposed to him but oh well, it's too late to think about it now that he's hiding in the very first shop he saw on his way, running away from overly excited fans.

said shop turned out to be a small coffee shop in a ghibli movie characters theme. it's cute, hoshi notes from his position behind the counter. he climbed here the second he entered, quickly realizing that hiding under the tables will not help him. there's no one in the cafe and he has half a mind to call someone from staff when door from his left opens and a person walks in. hoshi instantly shoots up, apologies on his tongue when you finally look up and- oh.

not many things can leave hoshi speechless; he's been in this business for such a long time that it feels like he's seen it all, even some stuff that he wishes he could un-see. he's very used to perfect faces, perfect settings, perfect speeches - he's been trained to know what to say in any situations but right now he's at loss. you are so-

'what the hell you are doing standing behind the counter?!'

-rude. yeah. blinking, he snaps back to reality instead of getting lost in your eyes. it's almost five and sun dances beautifully on your face, it illuminates all your features with an orange glow and he wishes he had a camera with him because whoa.

'i'm gonna call police if you don't step back.' there's slight tremor in your voice but you still try to look confident. 'how did you even-'

'door was open!' hoshia blurts out in his defense, belatedly realizing that this is not a good excuse for hiding behind the counter, where only staff members can go. 'i had to hide, i'm so sorry, but they would've spot me if i chose just take any table.'

your face is very expressive. miriads of emotions change themselves until you settle on confusion. 'hide from who- oh my god, are you a gang member?'

'i-what-' hoshi sputters, looking himself up and down. does he look like a gang member? 'no, i'm- uh, a singer. popular one.'

hoshi is not sure why he added the last bit but it's too late to take it back now. your gaze focuses on his face and he takes this time to study you too. it's hard to pinpoint why, but there's something so interesting and fascinating about you (apart from you generally being really, really pretty). like hoshi could stare at you all day and not get bored, could see you as his muse even.

'okay,' you exhale, looking very done. 'okay. you are a singer. a popular one. hiding from..fans, i presume?' hoshi nods. 'okay. that still doesn't mean that you can stand here.'

hoshi moves like a lightning, quickly jumping to the other side. you're not wearing any badge with a name and he suddenly really needs to know your name. 'sorry again. uh-' he looks around, trying to keep the conversation going. 'can i get one ice americano, please? name is soonyoung, by the way.'

you look... amused. baffled. shocked. hoshi likes how he can pull out so many emotions from you but he is yet to see you smile and that makes him sad. 'okay, soonyoung. one ice americano coming right up, anything else?'

'your name,' hoshi says, beaming, not caring how awfully cheesy that sounded. he goes for a killer: 'i can't keep callling you 'pretty girl' in my mind.'

and there you go, there's your smile. it sets fireworks in his chest and his grin broadens. you look much better with that smile on your face, he decides and proceeds to tell you this loudly as well.

'thank you,' you say, blushing but also laughing.

you don't say your name but laughter is good, hoshi decides. laughter is almost love, no? it can start with a laughter, he is sure. his mind conjures thousands of pick up lines that can you make laugh and maybe, just maybe, if he makes you laugh often enough you'll tell him your name. and then he can get your number and then he can facetime you from whenever and will always be able to look at your pretty face. now that's a solid plan in hoshi's mind and he's never happier for not listening to his managers and running away from the fans because meeting you is worth it ten times over.

a/n: and i finished my 'seventeen members as love tropes' series with hoshi! hope you liked it, let me know! - nini

my other seventeen works are here

my formula 1 works are here

[puma-riki]

No One Noticed...

Synopsis: You've never seemed to make friends well. Sure, you had people you knew and were well acquainted with, but no one ever seemed to get closer to you or want to. You think that no one notices you and you'll continue the rest of your college years alone like all the years before. Except Ni-ki notices just about everything you do.

Pairing: Nishimura Riki x Fem! Reader

Genre: Fluff, Humor (or attempts at), sliIght angst, smau + written parts, idiots to lovers, university au, slow burn

Warnings: consistent cursing

Characters: Enhypen (all), Eunchae (lesserafim), Keeho, Soul, (P1Harmony)

Status: Ongoing (Start: 092124)

Taglist: @bee-the-loser @iaintseggsy @channieismylove | Comment on any chapter from No One Noticed... saying you want to be added to the taglist!! or send me an ask !! | bold could not be tagged :c

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Masterlist | Previous | Next

04. HAPPY WEDNESDAY GUYS‼️‼️ + written

Campus Library 1:54pm

Ni-ki checked his phone for what had to be the 100th time since he took his spot leaning against the wall next to the library stairs. He hadn’t misread your texts, had he? Were you late? Or worse—were you already inside waiting while he was stuck out here, making him look like the kind of guy who didn’t care enough about his grades to show up for a tutoring session he asked for? That thought didn’t sit well, even if it wasn’t possible. Ni-ki had shown up 30 minutes early, too anxious to risk being late.

He opened his phone again, kicking at the small pebbles scattered across the pavement, He was about to send an SOS text to his friends' group chat when he heard a voice

"Are you out here waiting for me?" oh god it was you, he almost broke his neck, turning towards you.

You shifted the worn bag hanging on your shoulder, arms crossed against the breeze carrying the first hints of autumn. Ni-ki locked his phone and shoved his hands into the pockets of his green bomber jacket.

"Uh, yeah." He stood up from against the wall and shuffled his feet awkwardly, "I wasn't sure which study room we were using so, I just thought I'd wait for you to show up" His voice was quiet, and he felt it. This was the first real conversation you two had ever had—and the first time you’d ever looked directly at him.

"Oh, really?" You pouted slightly, your brow furrowing in confusion. Cute, he thought. "I thought I texted you the number. My bad." You walked past him, gesturing toward the stairs. "I’ll make sure I tell you next time, okay?" You smiled softly, tilting your head toward the stairs, signaling for him to follow.

You had only shown up ten seconds ago, and already, Ni-ki's heart was pounding.

He cleared his throat. "Kay," he mumbled, falling into step behind you as you made your way inside the library.

His nerves stayed with him as he climbed the stairs, especially knowing he would soon have to admit he was completely lost in biology—something you excelled at. He didn’t want you to think he was stupid.

After venturing into the library and ascending another flight of stairs, you pulled a keycard from the back pocket of your jeans and tapped it against the door to one of the study rooms.

“This room is reserved for the tutoring program specifically,” you explained, holding the door open for him with a smile. "So, we'll meet here for future sessions too."

Ni-ki felt like he was stepping into a padded cell. He was going to be alone with you in this room for 2 hours, how was he supposed to keep his cool and actually pay attention to the material instead of admiring you. He felt his hands start to sweat in his pockets as he took a seat at the long table sitting horizontally in front of the door after mumbling a shy thanks to you for holding the door for him. He sat his backpack down on the chair next to him as you did the same in the seat across from him.

"So," here came the embarrassment, "What exactly are you struggling with in bio." You gave him a quick glance as you dug in your bag for a notebook and pen.

Ni-ki wiped his hands on his jeans. “Well,” he started, feeling the familiar weight of self-disappointment in his chest, “pretty much everything, honestly.” His voice was quiet, the words almost painful to admit.

"That's okay! Biology is one of the harder classes, plus our professor is kind of a hard ass so it looks harder than it actually is." Your reassurance made his shoulders relax a little, and he let out a breathy laugh, your playful tone helping to ease his tension. You couldn't help but find him a bit cute.

“And it’s still early in the semester,” you continued, smoothing out your notebook page. “I’ll help you catch up.” Your encouraging smile sent a warmth through him. He nodded, wishing he could find his voice.

"Do you have any past quizzes and tests with you?"

“Yeah.” He quickly fumbled through his bag, nerves and the weight of your gaze making his hands clumsy as he pulled out a stack of papers littered with red marks. He felt a pang of embarrassment as he handed them over, watching you flip through his messy work. Red ink stained nearly every page, a reminder of how lost he’d been. He watched as you flipped through them, analyzing where he went wrong and where he had managed to get something right.

“Okay,” you said, setting the papers aside. “We’ll start from chapter one and work through it together. I’ll explain things differently from the professor and see if that helps.” You were already jotting down diagrams and definitions without needing to reference anything, working from memory.

"Okay, cool" he mumbled, trying to not make it obvious that he was taking deep breaths to calm himself down.

You smiled at his shyness, finding it endearing, "Okay so," You finished writing and turned your notebook towards him. As you began explaining biology’s chemical basis, Ni-ki found himself slowly relaxing, nodding along as the confusion in his mind started to unravel. Maybe tutoring wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.

Until you asked him a question.

Ni-kis mind went completely blank when his eyes met yours for the first time in the past hour. He felt heat creep up his neck and to his ears, luckily his hair had been long enough to cover it. he defeatedly admitted that he had no clue how to answer. his eyes downcast at the notebook and your hands instead of your face.

"That's okay! That's why I'm here to help you, you'll get better at it." The warmth in your voice surprised him. He was used to strict teachers, but you were different—gentler. he had partially expected you to be as uptight as some of his professors who would've grown impatient with his hesitation and wouldn't have responded so kindly.

You asked a few more questions throughout the session, and though he got most of the first ones wrong, you explained patiently each time, your soft smiles easing his nerves. When he did manage to get a few answers right, you brightened, praising him and diving deeper into the material. He felt his heart soar and warmth spread through his chest when you did so. With each moment, he felt himself relax, though he stayed shy, mumbling his responses and avoiding eye contact. You didn’t seem to mind, even though it was kind of hard to hear him, but you kept it professional and didn't say anything, not wanting him to feel more embarrassed.

"Okay, its 4:03. We can stop here." You say checking your watch. "Do you have any questions about anything from this chapter?" Your eyes meet his for a split second before he's averting his gaze from you and to a random corner in the room.

Ni-ki shook his head, "Not that I can think of,"

"Alright, then. Don't hate me for what I'm about to do" You tease, taking the notebook you both worked in for 2 hours and scribbling something down on a clean page.

Ni-ki raised an eyebrow, chuckling softly. "What are you doing?" He tilted his head to try and get a glimpse of what you were writing. after a minute you slide the notebook back towards him.

"Before Friday, try answering these questions so we can see if things are making more sense." You say, clicking your pen closed and putting it back into your bag. "You can keep the notebook, by the way."

"You're giving me homework?" He jokes, a pout forming on his lips, as he picks up the notebook and scans the questions you wrote down, there were only 5.

"I said don’t hate me!" you laughed. “Text me if you have any questions, okay?" you laughed lightly as you stood up and slung your satchel-like bag over your shoulder. You watched him nod, beginning to put the notebook in his bag with the rest of his stuff.

"Okay, I will, Thank you [name]" he gave you a friendly smile as you began pushing in your chair and made your way to the door.

"Of course, see you Friday Ni-ki!" you gave him a small wave and opened the door.

"See you Friday" he echoed after you. The door clicked shut and then you were gone, leaving him to sit with the fluttering in his chest.

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 88)

Tera was with V and Lizzy, both of which were hanging around in V's apartment, in much, much closer proximity then they ever would be in public. With Lizzy's head laying on V's lap, and V's fingers carding through her long blonde hair, absent of any helmet or bow.

Tera was sitting on her chest, Lizzy playing with her in a gentle kind of way, lifting her hands up and playing with them as if she was a little doll, Tera was mostly fine with this, but she was quickly growing bored of it, wanting instead the gently swaying, glowing object that was the end of V's tail.

“Vee!” She called, lifting her arms up in the dissasembly drones direction, glasses perched in front of her visor as she was trying to watch whatever was on the T.V.

“What is it cub?” She hummed, and she couldn't help the small smile that was creeping up on her face, she had to admit, N and Uzi's little gremlin was cute as hell.

“Play!” Tera replied happily, smiling and showing off her many, sharp little teeth. Lizzy laughed lightly. “Oh am I not good enough for you? Am I boring?”

“Probably, you're treating her like she's going to break into tiny peices babe.” V replied, picking up the toddler into her own hands and grinning as her eyes followed her swaying tail.

“It's not my kid! You know Doorman would throw a fit if her kid got hurt while we were supposed to be watching her.” Lizzy defended, sitting up off her frei- okay yeah; girlfriends lap so she could get up.

“She's not going to get hurt. Watch.” V placed her on the carpeted floor of her living room, sitting down in front of her with her legs crossed. Tera's eyes lit up, and she attempted to stand;

V's and Lizzy’s eyes both grew hollow for a moment as she balanced on both legs, wobbly and unpracticed, she took a step forward and-

Tumbled over, close, but not quite.

“Do you know how pissed they'd be if Tera took her first steps in front of us and not them.” Lizzy laughed, crouched down next to V as Tera made her way towards them, this time crawling.

“Oh my god Uzi would blow a gasket! I almost hope she does, that would be hilarious!” V replied, smiling and laughing as well, until she felt Tera's tiny hands grab her, and she looked down.

She looked fierce- or as fierce as a toddler could get. Snapping her fangs and shoving on V's peg-like leg.

“What is she…?” Lizzy asked, clearly confused.

“She's trying to wrestle with me…” V suddenly realized, obviously, this wouldn't work, Tera was so small she couldn't even budge V's leg, but the attempt was adorable in it's own way, and V's tail began to wag.

Maybe when she was older, and bigger, they could genuinely play fight without V pretending, but for now… she was about to lose some dignity.

She let the little toddler move her leg some, and Tera grinned wildly, climbing up on V's lap and then trying to climb up the rest of her to reach her prize, the shiny, glowy, unbabyproofed tail.

Of course, neither V nor Lizzy were thinking about that yet. Instead, V was pretending to get beaten up by a toddler and Lizzy was watching fondly, giggling.

“Look at her! She's going to be a little tomboy isn't she?”

By the way Tera was mixing both growling and purring, smiling wide as V sprawled out in fake pain, the answer was yes. V began to laugh at the toddlers antics, it was fond, and soft, and Lizzy couldn't help but blush.

“You're being a great aunt V~” She cooed, and V went stiff, blushing a vibrant yellow as she looked back at the worker drone she was so fond of.

“Shut up. No I'm not.” She protests, sitting up, letting Tera tumble off her back with a peel of laughter, she was completely unharmed, even after she hit the floor with a thump.

“Oh come on girl. Don't lie! It's good to see you care about something other then murder.” Lizzy laughed, watching as Tera pounced after V's tail every time it hit the ground, like a lion cub playing with an older member of the pride.

“I care about you.” V mumbled. But Lizzy only allowed herself to blush at that for a moment before moving on.

“And you care about her. V, you're purring!”

V froze, listening to herself. Sure enough, she was. She rarely purred, and yet playing with this little toddler was bringing it out quite naturally, the only other times she purred, it was with Lizzy.

Dammit, she hadn't meant to get so attached to a kid that wasn't even hers, a kid that her initial reaction to was… not great, at best. But either due to her instincts, or the fact that Tera was just so dang cute, or both. She had.

She would throw herself at anything for this kid. Without question or hesitation.

“Fine! You're right! Are you happy? She's my niece! Agh-!” Tera claimed her prize, tiny fangs snapping onto golden nanite canister. V yelped in pain, N wasn't the only one with a sensitive tail.

“Oooh… you alright babe?” Lizzy asked gently, and V's head snapped back in anger, because… ow. Before it softened at the proud look on Tera's face, and sighed.

“Yeah, you got me.” She said softly, bringing her tail up into her lap, so that Tera would fall gently into it, giggling.

“You're my little hunter huh? Aren't you?” V cooed, lifting up her niece near her face; where Tera placed both her little hands on her visor, smiling.

“Vee! Rawr!” Tera laughed, and V felt her core melt into nothing but goo. Leaning back to stare at the ceiling with Tera now hugging the fur on her jacket.

I don't want kids. I don't want kids. I don't want kids.

“Are you okay? Did she break you?” Lizzy asked, her face coming in upside down from V's perspective.

“I'm an aunt. Lizzy… I'm a fucking aunt.”

Lizzy laughed, reaching down to grab both sides of her face.

“And are good with kids. Suffer with that knowledge, killer.”

V groaned, covering her face. Feeling Tera start purring as she laid there, content to stay with her auntie…

[eeb-rody]

Tfone spoilers

Okay but imagine IMAGINE you're d-16 and your (boyfriend) best friend routinely drags you both into extreme danger even when you explicitly state you want no part in it (to prove a point? For fun? Both?? It's unclear) and on one of these occasions you find out that the authority figure you trusted most mutilated you (and everyone you love) at birth in an effort to create a servile underclass and secure power. Oh and you now have guns for hands sometimes.

As soon as you express anger at this intense betrayal, the One Guy who's supposed to be on your side (the guy responsible for this whole excursion by the way) starts looking at you like you're crazy. It's fine. Not like you've given this guy leeway for every insane stunt he's pulled for the last however long. Whatever.

You're captured by some guys playing commando in a rotting fortress of some kind, they won't help you but they seem to respect strength, lucky for you your body was recently turned into a weapon. You beat the shit out of the guy in charge (he's into it???) because you're angry and he's an asshole and maybe a display of strength will get these freaks to respect you enough to hear you out. Whatever your friend was thinking about you earlier just solidified.

You get kidnapped by a big spider.

Next you're handcuffed On Your Knees in front of the worst guy on the planet. He mocks you, he tortures you, he admits to all of his crimes and laughs in your face about it. You've gotta fucking kill this guy.

The building you're in gets hit by a flying train.

Finally FINALLY you've got this shithead on the run, everyone knows what he did, they probably want him dead just as bad as you do. He's cowering, he's begging, but earlier he was carving graffiti into your chest in front of a live audience so you're not feeling particularly receptive.

And then your impulsive shithead Best Friend shows up and starts talking about building a better world and how killing this evil motherfucker sets a bad precedent. You have thus far shown your friend infinite patience even in the face of severe consequences, his actions have resulted in you being hurt and changed and hurt again and now he wants to talk about the merits of reigning yourself in???

Nuh uh, you're killing this guy, your friend will be mad at you for a while but hopefully he'll understand that you ARE making the world better by killing a dictator who stunts the growth of his own people in order to make slaves of them.

Your best friend in the world sacrifices his life to save this evil piece of shit.

That's what was most important to him in the end. You realize that apparently being morally pure was his priority, nevermind you, nevermind the crimes done against your people, nevermind his "better world". You're fucking done. If he can't just trust you on this after everything he put you through- You let him fall into a big hole.

Only that's not the end of it. After you tear the "king" in half and start blasting at his tacky art deco statues, your friend rises from the pit he just fell into. He's Jesus now I guess and he uses his god powers to kick the shit out of you. He compares you to the man who mutilated you both as children and betrayed your people. Apparently God agrees with him.

My point is, this movie is just Megatron's terrible horrible no good very bad day and I think killing sentinel prime was good and made sense to do.

[mermaidsirennikita]

Sadly, the Wuthering Heights furor has also led to people (many of whom, let us be real, simply dislike the book or otherwise only think of it when it's brought up) to discourse about the content of the novel versus the wrongness of Emerald Fennell's choices with regards to the movie, which of course, has opened up the classic "IT'S NOT A ROMANCE! IT'S NOT A LOVE STORY! BAD PEOPLE! HATE STORY!"

... Which is... also a bad take.

First off, to be very clear, "Romance" is not inherently "genre romance", which is the thing I blog a lot about that was solidified in the latter half of the twentieth century (and which, no doubt, was influenced on some level by WH as much as Jane Eyre, Austen novels and so on). Wuthering Heights is a romance, it's just not a genre romance/romance novel. And indisputably, Wuthering Heights is a love story.

It may not be a love story you like. It may not be a love story with a happily ever after (though I will say—this is one of the few books where I think it's pretty debatable, as "wandering the moors as ghosts", if that is what happened, is kind of... what Cathy and Heathcliff would've wanted... and their ultimate desire was to be TOGETHER, regardless of whether or not it damned them, so is it an HEA in their freaky minds? Maybe so lol). It may ALSO be an abuse story in which the lovers act horribly to each other.... though, I gotta say, MUCH WORSE to literally everyone else in their lives than they do to each other...

But it's a love story. That is one of several things it happens to be. The entire novel is driven by this central love story between Heathcliff and Cathy—a love that is, contrary to what a surface-level reading or reading by word of mouth would imply... very much mutual. I've already gone on about how Cathy Earnshaw is not Heathcliff's victim the way Isabella Linton is, and how Cathy is very much as involved in the love affair as he is. But truly, while their individual internal struggles are the framework and what keeps them apart in many ways—Heathcliff being a man of color and subject to racist abuse, Cathy conforming to society and classist pressures when her natural temperament is very much not of society—what propels the story is this romance.

Because they are supposed to be read as extremely similar, and as two people who do not truly identify with anyone but one another. They're supposed to be read as like minds. They're supposed to be read as thwarted. Some of the things those two say about each other and to each other are legitimately some of the most romantic lines I've ever read.

I mean, are they also kind of sick and wrong? Sure! But I do find it kind of rich to see people who are totally fine with reading dark romance wring their hands over the public at large interpreting Heathcliff and Cathy's relationship as an epic romance. I don't have an issue with anyone enjoying either! But. Let us be real. Part of why y'all are even enjoying work like that is the standard that books like WH set, and the fact that WH does speak to the lure of the dark and the tragedy of people who are super imperfect... and also super in love... continuously fucking up their own lives (and the lives of basically everyone around them) in this push-pull of denial and desire.

When people say "HOW COULD ANYONE EVER INTERPRET THIS AS ROMANTIC?" I just have to question... did you read the book? Because even if it's not for YOU, if it's not romantic TO YOU, surely you can see why other people (me and mine lol) read lines like these and go, "Wow, romantic":

“Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living. You said I killed you--haunt me then. The murdered do haunt their murderers. I believe--I know that ghosts have wandered the earth. Be with me always--take any form--drive me mad. Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! It is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!”

(fun fact: I do have a part of the above quote tattooed on my body and I'm very happy about it)

"My great miseries in this world have been Heathcliff's miseries, and I watched and felt each from the beginning: my great thought in living is himself. If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger: I should not seem a part of it."

"Hush, my darling! Hush, hush, Catherine! I'll stay. If he shot me so, I'd expire with a blessing on my lips."

[said when her damn husband is almost at the door lol]

"I’m not wishing you greater torment than I have, Heathcliff. I only wish us never to be parted: and should a word of mine distress you hereafter, think I feel the same distress underground, and for my own sake, forgive me!"

"'Heathcliff, dear! you should not be sullen now. Do come to me, Heathcliff.’

In her eagerness she rose and supported herself on the arm of the chair. At that earnest appeal he turned to her, looking absolutely desperate. His eyes, wide and wet, at last flashed fiercely on her; his breast heaved convulsively. An instant they held asunder, and then how they met I hardly saw, but Catherine made a spring, and he caught her, and they were locked in an embrace from which I thought my mistress would never be released alive..."

"Kiss me again; and don’t let me see your eyes! I forgive what you have done to me. I love my murderer—but yours! How can I?"

[Read: she is the murderer he is talking about. He's saying she doomed herself to death a long time ago, and he hates her for it. While also crying and kissing her lmao]

They're sickos! Nobody can argue otherwise. But that does not mean they're not in love, and it doesn't mean this isn't a love story, and wagging your fingers at people who read this as the obviously destructive love story this is and find it romantic... doesn't change that.

And the thing is that the book makes it pretttyyyy clear that even if Heathcliff and Cathy has assholery programed into their personalities, WITHOUT the contexts of how they were raised and the society that expects them both to conform to prescribed roles, they would probably just... be together. Like, they victimize people, especially Heathcliff. But they are also victims. The book isn't about a critique of two people Emily Bronte dreamed up; it's a critique of the CIRCUMSTANCES by way of Gothic, subversive melodrama. At the end of the day, their feelings, however passionate they are, are not inherently subversive. Their feelings are NATURAL. But they're twisted and contorted into something ugly through circumstance and the characters' responses to those circumstances.

For Heathcliff, A LOT of those circumstances that did twist him are in fact out of his control. Which is why we hate that casting, right?

But all that said, a love story being dirtybadwrong and about Bad People doesn't mean it isn't a love story, lol. Again—we don't even expect genre romance to be about good people.

Like. Yeah. We know Heathcliff and Cathy are assholes. You're not breaking new ground with that take. The book is still, in many ways, about those assholes being in love.

[peachy-panic]

Not sure if you’re still taking prompts but if you are Id die for a ‘has anyone ever told you how pretty you are when you cry?’ For Jaime 🙏🏼🙏🏼

For the record, I am always happy to take prompts. Thank you for this one! <3

WARNINGS: BBU/BBU Adjacent, noncon drugging, grieving for dead parents

Rowan Smith stands outside the two-way mirror to the observation room, studying his newest assignment. 

The kid is flat on his back in the middle of the room, arms stretched out on either side of him. He’s high as a kite. His body appears to be completely relaxed, his breaths coming in an even rise and fall. You would think he’s in a state of complete euphoria, if it weren’t for the steady stream of silent tears sliding down his temples. 

He clicks on his tablet and makes a note in his file. 

110750 received final dose of diacetylmorphine at 17:09. Tox screen was completed at 22:31. He will be relocated to cell 34A today after his formal intake for the duration of his withdrawal and initial training. 

Rowan saves his entry and clicks the screen to black. He watches for another minute, then, decisively, swipes his key card at the door to let himself into the room. He isn’t technically supposed to mess with him before he’s officially admitted into the system—officially, none of this operation beneath the basement level of the facility really even exists—but Rowan can be discreet. 

He closes the door behind him and walks to the kid’s side, dropping into a crouch. His new trainee is so far gone that he doesn’t seem to be aware that anyone has even entered the room. He just keeps staring up at the ceiling while his tears drip into little pools on the concrete floor.

Jaime, the kid’s name is. For now, anyway. In less than an hour, that will be erased from his identity. Rowan will make him into the perfect blank slate, so that 110750 can become whoever he is required of him at any given moment. 

Reaching forward, he takes a tuft of soft, blond hair between his fingers and lets it drop back against his forehead. Finally, a pair of heavy-lidded brown eyes roll in his direction. Rowan smiles. He wonders if he can even really see him. Almost certainly, he won’t remember this tomorrow. 

“Why the long face, sweetheart?”

The boy blinks hard, like he’s trying to concentrate on something, then brings his hands down to pat the pockets of the jeans they haven’t yet taken from him.

“The picture,” he says, quiet and raspy. 

Rowan tilts his head in feigned confusion. “What picture is that?”

His thin fingers shake as he turns his pockets inside out, a little more agitation slipping through the heavy fog of his high. “My parents,” he says. “My photo. It has… I can’t…”

“Oh.” Smith puts on a sympathetic frown. “That old thing? We had to get rid of it.”

Jaime, or the person that used to be him, turns back to Rowan with a look of slowly dawning horror. “What?”

“You won’t be needing that anymore. We already burned it.”

His face crumbles into true devastation. It’s almost impressive that such emotion can break through the drugs. 

“It’s all I have left,” he whispers. 

God, Rowan thinks. They really brought me a treasure with this one. 

He reaches out again, this time to brush the hair off his forehead with a gentle hand. “Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are when you cry?”

[thatwritterbeach]

One messed up bat pt.2

Dc masterlist all other parts found here

Batfam x reader Jason Todd x reader

Summary: the batfam's approach to Y/n self harming, Bruce is a meanie, and neglectful meanie

warnings: Angst, self harm (active), self hate, depression, anxiety, eating disorder,mentions of alcohol and drugs but not use of either, sexual assault mention, non-con mention, joker has bad touched y/n, puke, purging,

I do not own dc, kinda short sorry. Full bruce hate, I never forgave him for not killing the joker, among other things

Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian all sat around her while Alfred poured tea. Her leg was bouncing and her fingers were tapping on her knees.

"Somebody gonna fill me in," Bruce asked into the silence.

"I second that," Jason said.

"Well, we are here to support-" Tim started to say before Damian cut in.

"Y/n was cutting herself and you have to fix it," he said from his spot next to her. He latched himself onto her arm and rolled her sleeve up to show off the bandage.

"Y/n," Bruce said softly, running a hand down his face in exhaustion. He's too tired to put up with you.

"Why," Jason asked moving to sit next to her and grab her other hand. Tim was sitting on the back of the couch behind her, Dick was perched on the arm next to Damian and Bruce was across from her in an arm chair.

"I'm in a family of superheros that spends more time looking after strangers than they do their own people."

"Y/n," Dick said on a sigh.

"It's our job," Bruce said. Like that excused all the neglect.

"If you're just gonna undermine everything I say and bring up 'the mission' as an excuse for everything there's no point in having this conversation cuz it's just gonna make things worse," she seethed glaring at Bruce.

"No more work talk, just tell us about you," Dick said.

"Damian go help Alfred with dinner."

"But-"

"Go." He rolled his eyes but stomped out of the room.

"I've been cutting since Jason died-"

"Shit," Tim interrupted quietly.

"Burning too when I feel like it. Definitely have an eating disorder, depression goes without saying. All forms of anxiety, panic attacks, anxiety attacks, hmmm," she paused in mock thought looking to the ceiling for answers.

"What do you mean burning," Jason asked before she could continue.

"I use a lighter to heat up a blade, or something else metal and hold it to my skin. Just 1st and second degree, enough to blister. I prefer burning because the pain lasts longer," she explained casually. Stop talking you idiot!

"Y/n," Dick muttered, so sadly the guilt crept up her throat.

"How else do you hurt yourself," Bruce asked sliding her tea closer to her, like that helped.

"I think that's it, don't know I've done shit for so long I don't even think anymore. I blink and there's a few new cuts I don't remember making." Stop talking!

"Oh my god," Tim whispered.

"You black out? Do you drink," Jason accused, unwilling to ask about drugs.

"Nope, never touch the stuff." Where her hands shaking or was she imagining that? Didn't matter Jason's warm and rough hand enveloped both of hers to stop them. Are your eyes meant to get fuzzy when your crush touches you?

"What can we do to help, what do you need from us," Bruce asked eyeing their hands with a touch of unease?

"Oh, now you care. What fifteen, twenty kids later you care? I don't need or want anything from you, actually, no, what I want is my damn job back." Is your heart supposed to be at 150 BPM?

"Sweets, I can feel your heart through your finger tips."

"I'm fine, my heart rate's always a bit fast." But she was starting to sweat.

"Are you having any other systems, how often do you have anxiety attacks," Dicks asked sitting beside her to hold two fingers to her pulse and count.

"Once a week, once every two weeks, I don't know, why?"

"Do you feel like you're going into one?"

She took a deep breath and did a mental self-assessment. Fast heart, sweat, shaky hands, but clear thoughts.

"I don't-I don't...it doesn't feel like it? Maybe just heightened anxiety, I don't know, I feel more anger than anxiety," she told him smacking his hand away when he tried to check for a fever.

"Does your heart rate usually get to 160 when you're mad," Dick asked.

"Sounds right, I have anger issues." Jason snorted out a laugh.

"Welcome to the club kid." His hand moved to tug on her hair then dropped to her neck to rub circles with his thumb.

"When you call me kid it makes me feel small and useless," she told him with soft smile.

"Shit, sorry."

"I cal you kid, like ninety percent of the time," Dick panicked.

"Chill big bird, it's not gonna drive me to a cliff."

"You're not going back to work."

"Wayta' read the room, Bruce," Tim chastised dramatically draping himself over the back of the couch.

"Careful, Tim your fruit is showing," Y/n said, laughing at her own joke. ( Tim is bi in this)

"His what," Jason whisper yelled whipping his head around to check his brother fly. Dick who was 'hip' to the kids slang these days just laughed and high fived her.

"What's fruit then?"

"When someone is gay you call them fruity," she explained gesturing to Tim's totally not straight pose.

"Oh, got it. Wait a damn minute, that's what you meant when you called me a mango nerd the other day."

"Dude you said and I quote 'you can't wear that spring outfit with that fall purse you heathen' with a hand on your hip."

"It was for a benefit ball, I was trying to help you, you fashionably challenged fool."

"Get a room," Tim complained throwing a hand over his eyes like even watching them was painful.

"Was it that peach dress with the blue clutch," Dick asked, of course, he hadn't attended but he saw the papers and news.

"Sorry, I thought I was the girl in this family, let me just turn my closet over to you-"

"Can we get back to your issues," Bruce interrupted, freaking buzzkill.

"Sorry, was my bonding time with brothers I haven't seen together in over a month cutting into your plans. Are you trying to wrap this up so you can put on your Halloween costume and go beat up poor people. Sorry my depression is such an inconvenience for you. Don't worry, me slicing into my own flesh can take a backseat to your useless and selfish vendetta.-"

"That's enough, I do care-"

"Really! Did you care when your second robin got murdered and you couldn't be bothered to stop his killer, did you care when you forced me into that suit and took me out with basically no training? Did you care when the man you refused to kill took me hostage, when the devil you clearly love sank his claws into my innocent skin? Did you even ask when I came back to the cave with blood running down my legs-" Her jaw might have popped from the grinding of her teeth if Dick and Jason hadn't cut her off.

"What the actually fuck, Bruce!" Jason.

"What the hell!" Dick.

"I didn't know," Bruce said hanging his head and shoving his fingers into his hair.

"You didn't fucking ask. Why the hell else would I have come back looking the way I did, did you even notice I was gone?"

"I-"

"I don't care," she interrupted with an eye roll, shaking the boys off her to try and leave the room. Tim was faster and blocked her path but she knew he would cave, they would all give her alone time after the bombshell she'd just dropped. She tried not to smirk when Bruce moved to follow her and both Dick and Jason stood in his way.

"So not only did you fail to stop a kid from being murdered, you failed to tell me he was even dead until after his funeral, and you failed to protect her."

"I hate you," Jason said and they all knew he meant it. The guilt was back, clawing at her insides and making bile rise to her throat. They'd been mending their relationship and she just turned Jason on Bruce without thinking.

"I'm sorry," he tried.

"We don't care," Tim spoke for all of them stepping aside to let her through. She hurried to leave before they changed their mind but stopped short with a soft 'shit' when she nearly ran into Damian.

"You heard it all didn't you?"

"Father's an idiot."

"I'm sorry you had to hear that."

"Tt, I'm sorry you had to go through that, my beloved." (he calls her that cuz she's his favorite and acts almost as a mother figure)

"You mind telling Alfred not to set my place?"

"Of course."

Thank God, he didn't insist on following her. With a quick hug and hair ruffle she sent him off and nearly sprinted to her room, her trained feet not making a sound on the polished wood. They hadn't taken any of her blades yet so she had her pick for one last hurrah before they found her. With what could only be described as a quiet evil laugh she selected a simple pocket knife and skipped to her en suit locking the door behind her. her shorts were off in a flash and she had four quick and clean cuts in no time, the sting was ok but not enough to ease the guilt from blabbing her big mouth so she did a few more. The feeling didn't ease and her chest only got tighter in panic of being found so she cleaned and bandaged them then sank to her knees in front of the toilet. Pressing on her stomach right where her ribs met she was able to bring up her food without shoving her fingers down her throat. When nothing but foam came up and her eyes stung from tears she rose to clean up.

"Y/n, you have two second before I kick in the door," Jason warned. Well shit.

9-24-24

[cakerybakery]

“This sucks and I hate you.” Adam grumbled from his seat at the meeting table.

“Well, we have that in common.” Lucifer chirped as he bounced in place. He had been sitting for too long and needed some time to move.

Adam smirked behind his mask, “what you hate yourself?”

“Yes!”

“God, you’re pathetic.” Adam rubbed his back and groaned, “I don’t know how bitches do this all day.” He put a hand on the bulge under his robe and used the arm of his chair to try and help himself up. He didn’t go far and Lucifer sprung over to help him up.

“She’s getting pretty big.” Lucifer patted the bulge. “Not long until she hatches now.”

“He, and no. Sera said another week and he’ll hatch.” He nodded his thanks for the hand up. “I can’t wait to stop carrying him around. This egg is getting heavy. I’d kill for you to have drawn the short straw.”

Lucifer pretended to gasp. “But she needs her mommy!”

“Call me that again and I’ll deck you.” Adam groaned again and rubbed more at his back. “I can’t wait to put her down. This nearly constantly needing to be touching me thing is getting old. I even have to sleep with her strapped to me.”

“HA! Made you say her!” Lucifer cheered and nudged Adam’s angelic side. “You’ve admitted we’re having a girl. I’ve been telling you for months. It’s going to be a girl.”

Adam did deck him that time, but most of the oof was taken out of the throw by being off center.

Lucifer laughed again. “Okay. Okay. I’ll stop. Here, let daddy rub your back.”

Now, Adam was going to protest but Lucifer’s hands were on him and as Lucifer rubbed at the sore muscles Adam groaned in relief. He let Lucifer rub his back and his shoulders until the bell for the break ended.

“I suppose,” Lucifer drawled looking at his stiff chair. “We should get back to it.”

“Or,” Adam ventured, “instead of talking for the millionth time about our kid’s dominion over purgatory and the laws around it, you could keep rubbing my back.”

“Why I do believe you might be enjoying my company for once.” Lucifer teased as he guided Adam to a chair and started rubbing again.

Adam didn’t want to dignify that with a response, but shutting the fuck up was not on of his virtues. “I’m enjoying the relief from the pain carrying around your bastard child.”

“Well, you could always marry me.”

Laughing hard, Adam had to open his mask and wipe away a tear. “Oh that would kill in Heaven. ‘God has decreed that Purgatory needed a ruler and thus Adam, the first man and first soul in heaven is to produce a child with the fallen angel, Lucifer to create a ruler of both realms, heaven and hell, of angel and human and now the the ritual has been completed and a divine egg created by combining their powers, they’re getting married y’all.’ Oh fuck. I would be excommunicated so fast.”

“Worth it to see the look on Sera’s face.” Lucifer hummed.

“… maybe.”

[slyvieselkie]

The Greens and Reds: Gojō Satoru

Green Flag Satoru (loving husband) vs Red Flag Satoru (man whore)

Check out my masterlist for more!

Hubby: Did you remember to buy my mochi ice cream sweetpie pookie sugar honey baby ૮ ˊo̴̶̷̤ ﻌ o̴̶̷̤ˋ ྀིა

You snicker and sent back a yes, knowing that he'll sulk about how you didn't use the cringy long ass nickname he created for himself. With a hum, you pull out your key with a kikufuku keychain attached to it. As you plan the rest of your day, thinking about the chores needed to be completed, you stop at the entrance.

A pair of heels, diamond heels.

Moans make your head snap up, and your heart sinks with dread. Please don't, please please please, you beg and creep into your own home. A shaky breath escapes you when a familiar voice purrs, and you cling to the wall seeing the debauchery that was happening in your living room. Instantly, tears are streaming down your face and you sneak back out.

How weak, you think, at least go in and fight for yourself. That was the way you had always assumed you'd react to cheating. Just pounce on those bastards and rip out their hairs. But this wasn't a 'what if', and the man in those thoughts wasn't Satoru. The man who had always been so loyal and loving, so protective and reassuring... but no one really knows anyone these days.

And just as you open the door, a figure stands in your way.

"....Satoru?", your eyes dry up as a second Gojō Satoru?

He scowls, seeing the wet streaks along your cheeks and lean down, "Who made you cry?".

You grow speechless because how the hell are you supposed to say 'your cheating ass' when he's standing right here? Seeing you motion to the diamond heels right there, the white haired man is on alert because clearly there's an intruder. Stay here, he growls, and carefully enter the house whilst sticking to the wall.

"Come baby, move those hips~", sparkling blue eyes blink in confusion at that familiar voice.

Storming into the living room, he exclaims, "...What the fuck is happening-OH MY GOSH AAAHHH!"

The figures on his sofa jolt and the two Gojō Satoru's jaws drop seeing each other, "...YOU BASTARD!"

....

You sigh watching the two Satoru's glare at each other. Both of them scratched up and holding a bag of frozen peas against a bruised cheek. All thanks to your Satoru who immediately pounced on himself because he refuses to cheat even in other universes. Yes, the intruder is Gojō Satoru from an alternate universe where you clearly aren't in his life. The higher ups didn't give you an explanation for what happened, but they say that he should return home in by midnight.

"Eugh", your man glances at himself and turns away revolted only to take another look and do the same, "Brother eugh! You fucking man whore!"

The Intruder sneer back, "Goddamn prude, don't tell me you still have a purity ring", your Satoru scoffs and shows off the custom wedding ring, "It's a wedding ring! Do you know what that is, you deviant?!"

As their anger flares up, you move over and place a hand on your husband's shoulder, "Toru stop, you're literally insulting yourself", "I don't claim him! He's not a Satoru, you better change your fucking name when you get lost!"

With a laugh laced with fury, the white haired intruder motion to you, "Look at yourself, fucking dumbass! You could have a roster of bad bitches but you're here stuck with a mid?! Have some pride dipshit!"

"Fuck you...", you panic feeling the atmosphere grow dense as both men start chanting, "Stop, Stop, STOP!"

....

"Toru, call him out for dinner", you turn to your sulking husband, "Absolutely not, he doesn't get to call you mid and eat anything! He can starve to death!", Satoru raises his voice at the end so his clone can hear.

With a sigh, you walk over and giggle when he immediately leeches onto you, "My most handsome gorgeous smart mochi prince~"

His frown instantly turns upside down and Satoru peppers kisses across your face, "I love you so much, god you can't even imagine the things I'd do for you."

Hushing him, you cup his cheeks, "And I love you just as much", "That's not-", annoyed you bit the tip of his nose for him to shut up, "I love you, the you I knew for six years, dated for five, and married for one. The other Satoru doesn't matter to me, let him sleep around if he wants, because he isn't the man I love."

The next thing you know, Satoru is picking you up and making you wrap your legs around his hips as he kisses the hell out of you. He would take you right there on the sofa, but it still needs to be disinfected.

"Sa-mmph-dinner!", you attempt to say while being smothered and he pulls away to whisper, "Later, we're busy", and starts sliding his hands under your shirt.

"Ahem!", clone Satoru glares at the two of you.

Your husband lets you down reluctantly, you quickly neaten yourself and stutter, "Uh-a-please, take a seat! We'll quickly set up the table!"

A pair of sparkling eyes watches as the two of you start bringing the food and utensils out. They observe how Satoru grins as you swat away his naughty hands but you still shyly reciprocate his kisses. They notice the way Satoru stares at you with so much affection as you excitedly pull out the special plates you got as a wedding gift. They twitch when the scent of the home cooked meal fills the nostrils and gosh does it smell amazing. And they widen when everything taste phenomenal, clearly not mid, your Satoru has to sneak it in when you fill up a second bowl of rice.

You hush your husband and smile softly, "I'm glad you're enjoying", the other Satoru poorly covers his shyness behind the bowl, "I-It's eatable."

After dinner, the clone watches Satoru pack the dishes into the washer while you cut up a variety of fruits and plate the mochi ice creams. He joins the two of you for some late night TV shows and hates how he chuckles at the dumb answers the two of you come up with for the quizzes. Time flies by and he only notices the time when he sees you nodding off. It's already 11:50.

"...You should go to bed", your Satoru shows a smirk, "Nah, she's already comfortable here."

What a terrible excuse, he scoffs, but damn does he feel some sort of relief.

As he strokes your hair, the white haired man speaks softly, "Don't die alone and miserable", "What the fuc-", "You don't need to be in a relationship or be married, but at least have that special someone you can fall back on."

And as if the universe was waiting for this, his body starts fading away. He watches as Satoru kisses your head with the happiest smile on his face.

"Our lives are difficult and stressful, find the person that makes it a little more bearable, kay?"

....

Gojō Satoru finds himself sitting on his sofa, all alone. It wasn't a problem before, but he stares at where you had been sleeping so prettily, and Satoru hates how easily convinced he was.

His house is dark and gloomy, with no wedding pictures hanging on the walls, no pairs of cups and toothbrushes, and no cabinet where all the porcelain sits. There's no home cooked meal waiting and no one to love so strongly.

But there's a nudge to his shoulder and the man scoffs. Yeah yeah, he thinks and prepares for bed. You'll find someone, Satoru can hear your sweet voice as he lies in his giant bed.

Maybe, maybe not.

Congrats on fixing red flag Satoru, Lovelies~

Keep tuning in to fix some other red flags! (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈)

[ilovedazaiosamu]

wasn’t that what you wanted? || megumi fushiguro !

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

★ • genre : angst

★ • megumi x reader !

•𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟•

october was a stressful month for megumi, including you. there were so many missions to do, to the point you both obviously didn’t have time for each other. it bothered you, but it didn’t to him. he was acting like you were nothing to him. and your relationship grew apart, as megumi could barely spare any time. you were confused. he had his day offs, but he couldn’t even spare a conversation with you.

this morning, he was in a bad mood. usually, he would do his morning routine. he didn’t this time. he was occupied on his phone, texting yuji. he was complaining to him about how annoying you were. that’s why he has been ignoring you. he didn’t wanna hear your stupid bullshit. somehow, you saw his messages with yuji. it was heartbreaking, it tore you apart. how could he say that about you? you mean, you knew you were a chatterbox, but you thought he didn’t mind it.

”what the fuck, [name]?”

megumi was behind you. he wanted to know why you were on his phone. megumi felt so much anger in him. a little piece of resentment was building up inside him. he snatched his phone away from you.

“is that what you really.. think of me?”

you asked, trying to bottle up the surge of emotions in you. you wanted to ask why, so you could fix it. you wanted to know why. you were befuddled. why would he be with you if you were annoying.

“you weren’t supposed to see that. what the fuck were you thinking? you’re so meddlesome! do you know how annoying it is to live with you?! constantly being questioned, especially nagged! you know what? i’ve had enough of this. just leave. i don’t wanna look at you right now.”

now i was in distress. i didn’t know he had loathed me so much. i thought he still had a little bit of love in me. it looked like he didn’t. tears were staining my cheeks, as his fierce gaze was upon me.

“i thought you—“

“i don’t wanna hear it. i said leave.”

was he always this mean to you? what was stressing him out? you needed to know. but you just couldn’t. not with him ignoring you.

“i’m done, megumi! i’m done! do you know how long i’ve been holding onto this relationship for? how hard i’ve been trying to rebuild our relationship?! i’m trying, but you aren’t! just why? if i’m that annoying, why didn’t you say so? it kills me when you don’t communicate with me! i can’t do this anymore. our relationship is futile, you know why? because of this disrupted communication going on! everything would be just fine if you didn’t leave me hanging! i’m out!”

megumi was silent. through all this time, he was only thinking selfishly. he didn’t see his own mistakes, because his self centered mind only saw others’. sure, i wasn’t perfect, but i tried really hard. while he was distraught, i left. i ran outside, where the rain was pouring down on me. the clouds were crying with me. you knew it was never a good idea to bottle up your emotions. it’s like when a grasshopper comes out of its box, the others will end up escaping too. you bawled as you ran out of the building. everything was such a pain. your legs were strained, your voice too. why was it so hard to find love? to be loved?

i ended up at a cafe, where yuji was inside.

‘shit! i didn’t know he was here. i can’t get out now, i already ordered something..’ you thought to yourself as you panicked.

‘oh my god, he looked at me! shit he’s pulling out his phone.’ you knew yuji was texting megumi.

in a few seconds, megumi somehow arrived. his clothes were soaked. it looked like he was crying to. he was looking around, as if he was searching for you. you caught up on what he was doing, so you hid. you were too scared to see him. you were too embarrassed. you attempted to cover my face with my hair, but he could recognize you from a mile away, so what’s the use? he went over to your seat, and sat himself down. he had an apologetic look on his face. his nose was red, and he was blowing his nose with a tissue. it was so awkward, you felt an uncomfortable feeling in your chest.

“i’m sorry. don’t leave me, forget about everything that i said.”

megumi intertwined your fingers with his, laying his head on my shoulder. you were a little mad at him, but you smiled.

“i’m also sorry, gumi. i lashed out on you..”

you responded to him, with a sincere look on my face. my food arrived, and he kept on staring at it. you giggled at him. he was hungry but didn’t say anything.

“you should start talking more, how are we gonna avoid miscommunication if we don’t communicate?”

“yeah, maybe we should.”

megumi opened his mouth, letting you feed him your fries. he didn’t really like them, but food is food. and for the rest of the day, you both finally spent time together alone.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

★ • notes : i’ll gladly quit if this flops ! the ending is so unilateral LMAO

[exhuastedpigeon]

Lemme help with those Hockey AUs...

👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽

🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒

Kenna I knew I could count on you.

39 for 👨🏽(ps this fic was inspired by your manip of hockey player Eddie with a moustache)

Where Buck’s mustache is still pretty light, Eddie’s is dark and lush and honestly, Buck wants to put his mouth on it. 

Which is not the way he’s supposed to think about his teammate. 

Even if that teammate is also Buck’s secret husband. Emphasis on the secret part. While they were out to the team and their family and friends, they weren’t out publicly at the advice of their agent and the Kings front office. 

But Buck might accidentally out them this November if he didn’t get himself under control. It was just, Eddie looked kind of insanely hot with a mustache. This wasn't the first November he’d known Eddie, in fact this wasn’t even the first November where he’d been in a relationship with Eddie. It was just, this November something seemed different. 

“Why are you staring at me,” Eddie asked with a laugh on November 5th. His mustache was already looking thick and sexy, unlike Buck’s which was still a little patchy and definitely too blond to look good right now. 

“I like the mustache,” Buck said with a shrug, trying (and failing) to sound casual about it. 

“Oh, you do?” Eddie stopped buttoning his shirt so he could turn around and look at Buck directly instead of in the mirror. 

“Y-yeah,” Buck couldn’t take his eyes off of it and here in the safety of their bedroom he was allowed to look, so why should he stop. 

“If you managed to keep out of the box tonight, I’ll let you do whatever you want to my mustache.”

“Whatever I want?”

“Well, within reason,” Eddie laughed. “We have to get on a plane and fly to Boston tomorrow morning.”

“Okay, I can stay out of the box,” Buck said confidently, even though there was a very good chance he was lying. It wasn’t his fault they were playing the Ducks. Everyone knew the Ducks sucked, that was just a fact of life. The sky is blue. Eddie Diaz is the love of Evan Buckley’s life. The Ducks stopped being cool in 2006 when they changed their name from the Mighty Ducks to just the Ducks. 

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Eddie laughed and pressed a kiss to Buck’s mouth. Buck had expected the mustache to tickle, but he found he actually liked the feeling of it against his skin. Oh god, did he have a mustache kink that had somehow only now unlocked in him?

(He didn’t manage to stay out of the box, but Eddie let it slide because Buck had only gotten thrown in the box after he’d dropped gloves with Jonah Greenway after he ran Chimney in the crease.) 

–

“Someone on Twitter called Eddie’s mustache the gayest thing they’ve ever seen in the NHL and, this is a direct quote, that’s impressive because hockey is the most homoerotic sport to ever exist,” Chimney said on November 13th. They were on the world’s shortest flight from Long Island to Philly and Chimney was entertaining them by reading funny tweets about the team. 

“Everything I do is gay,” Eddie said without opening his eyes. He’d played over thirty-five minutes in their game the night before after Millsy had blocked a shot with his face, so Eddie was so exhausted that Buck could feel it radiating off of him. 

It wasn’t like Buck hadn’t played an extra few minutes last night too, but Eddie was a left handed defenceman and so was Millsy, so Eddie had done a lot of double shifting. It had paid off, they’d won the game by one goal. 

“Is your mustache this season extra glorious and sexy this year because you’re fully embracing your gay-ness?” Chimney asked and coming from anyone else Buck knew Eddie would have been a little annoyed, but Chimney was - well he was Chimney. He was always in their corner even when he was pissed at them. 

“Probably,” Eddie smiled, eyes still closed. “Maybe I’ll dress up as Freddie Mercury and post a picture saying we have more than just a mustache in common.”

Buck’s brain short circuited for a second at the mental image of Eddie dressed up like Freddie Mercury, but he was thankfully pulled from that thought before it got not safe for work when Chimney spoke again.

and 39 for 🏒 under the cut

They’re tied 1-1 in the third period against the Ducks when Buck lays a hit on Smith along the boards in the natural zone, knocking him off the puck long enough for Eddie and his fucking beautiful hands to gain possession. Buck grins at Smith as he pushes off of him and follows behind his defense partner, entering the zone two seconds after him. Buck back checks the Duck’s defender that’s coming up behind him to keep him away from the puck and give Eddie another second to put the puck on net. 

And here’s the thing, Buck knows their team is good - they’re the second best team in the western conference right now. It’s like Eddie was the missing piece they’d needed to really take them up to the next level, but in the middle of a game he isn’t thinking about that. All he’s thinking about is that he needs to give the guys the best chance they have to score. Eddie sends the puck back to Mateo and screens the goalie as Mateo passes the puck to Buck at the point to reset the play. 

It’s like it happens in slow motion - Buck takes a shot from the point, not because he thinks he’s going to score, but because he wants to get the puck to the net so they can try to score on the rebound. Except the rebound doesn’t come. Instead, Eddie tips Buck’s shot, redirecting it over Gibson’s shoulder on his stick side, sending the puck into the back of the net.

The ref signals that it’s a goal and before the horn can sound, Eddie is on him, practically tackling him to the ice in celebration. Buck wraps his arms around Eddie on instinct, holding him close as TK, Paul, and Mateo crash into them.

"You're a fucking beauty, Buckley," Eddie says, his mouth pressed against Buck neck in a hug.

They manage to hold onto the lead and when Chim insists on taking everyone out for a drink after because they held onto the lead and didn’t let their defensive play slip even when they were winning. Buck says yes without second thought. He’s expecting most of the younger guys to come out with them, the ones without wives and girlfriends at home. The ones without kids waiting for them. 

He’s expecting Eddie to say he needs to get home to Chris. He isn’t expecting Eddie to say, “I’m in.”

“Is Carla staying late?” Buck asks quietly as they change after cooling down and showering. 

“Shannon’s got him tonight,” Eddie says just as quietly. Buck’s pretty sure the only other person who knows about Eddie’s complicated relationship with his ex is Coach, for some reason being in on that secret, to have earned that kind of confidence from Eddie, makes Buck warm all over. 

“Well then it’s dad’s night out, huh?” Buck grins and slings an arm around Eddie’s shoulders even though they both smell fucking rank and they should really hit the showers. 

“There aren’t many nights where we win, we don’t have a game for five whole days, and I don’t have to rush home to relieve the babysitter,” Eddie grins right back. “Let’s go get fucking hammered, Buck.”

They’re in the locker room surrounded by their teammates. There’s at least two reporters in the room with them right now. Buck can see Ravi has his phone out and is probably live on Instagram. None of it matters, not with the way Eddie’s smiling at him. Not with the way Eddie pulls Buck into his orbit and keeps him there whenever he’s in the room. 

“I-I think everyone is going to get hammered,” Buck says, eyes on Eddie’s mouth because he can’t seem to stop himself. 

“Yeah, but I’ll be doing it with you,” Eddie says and then he ducks out from under Buck’s arm with a laugh. “Come on, we gotta shower. I bet you smell worse than Sid’s lucky jock.”

make me write

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

Better Off - Bernard DeMarco x OFC - Chapter 12

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11

AO3

Summary: Susie returns to Thorpe Abbotts following the loss of DeMarco

Warnings: more angst :)

Word Count: 2.6k

Tags: @xxluckystrike @latibvles @footprintsinthesxnd @mads-weasley @joyfulbookreviewmarvelspy @justheretoreadthxxs @blakelysco-pilot

Thorpe Abbotts was quieter than Susie remembered it when she finally returned - her two-week-long disappearance drawing to a close - Meatball's leash around her wrist, a suitcase swinging back and forth in her other hand. When she'd arrived on Beatrice's doorstep, she'd had scarcely more than the clothes on her back, but in her sister's eyes, she would've been remiss to let her leave without at least a new pair of shoes to replace the worn out old boots on her feet.

The crunch of gravel split the evening quiet as she headed down the road towards her hut, each breath practised and purposeful. Susie could already imagine her bunkmates' sympathetic frowns, and they made her want to vomit. She had endured enough of that from her family - those knowing stares, imagining how she must have felt the moment they'd pulled her sister's battered corpse from the rubble - she didn't need that from these people too, these people who knew her less and could only speculate more.

Meatball's nose knocked against her leg as she fumbled for her key, prying open the front door and trying her best not to drop anything. Her efforts were rendered futile, however, as Maeve crashed into her the moment Susie stepped inside, sending her stumbling back a step in surprise.

"Oh my god," She huffed, throwing her arms around her. "Don't scare me like that again!"

"Who are you, my Ma?" Susie almost chuckled, awkwardly bending to put down her bag so that she could hug Maeve in return.

"For a while, she thought you'd been kidnapped," Charlotte shrugged as she crossed the room to join them. Seizing the hand on Maeve's back, she gave it a reassuring squeeze. It was the only acknowledgement of her reality that Susie could stomach.

"And you did nothing?" She teased half-heartedly, peeling herself away from the embrace. "Remind me to never come to you two in an emergency."

Maeve chuckled at this, and opened her mouth to speak. But her words fell on deaf ears as Susie's gaze locked upon her bunk - the sheets clean and freshly changed, a big metal box sitting at the foot of the mattress.

"... What's that?" She asked slowly, cutting off whatever had been said.

But she knew what it was, really. She'd seen a footlocker before.

Charlotte stared at the box with a saddened frown. "It's his."

Susie's brow furrowed. "They're supposed to ship it to his parents."

"He asked them to give it to you."

That was something far heavier - far more real - than she'd expected from him. But perhaps this had always been who DeMarco was. Susie had certainly gotten used to avoiding the truth of him to spare herself from something as wretched as feelings. If only she'd been any good at it.

They took the leash from her without a word, and she tossed her suitcase aside as she reached the bed, staring down at the box, the initials 'B. A. DEMARCO' stamped upon the lid in thick, black letters. To look inside meant more than simply opening the thing. It meant accepting the importance he had imbued upon her by leaving it to her, this token of his identity.

Susie wasn't sure how long she simply stared at it, listening to the thump of her heartbeat as it drummed in her ears - but when she looked up, the room was empty.

The hinges squeaked as she flipped open the lid, swallowing hard at the collection of belongings stuffed inside, scattered in an organised state of chaos that immediately struck her as so quintessentially him.

Tucked neatly amongst the letters and photographs was a folded sweater, and atop the scratchy wool lay an envelope. Susie didn't know his handwriting well, but there was no doubt that this was it, for across the paper were scribbled the words 'To be read by Susie Lamb'.

Her hand trembled as she reached for it, tearing clumsily at the flap until the envelope was practically ripped in two. She'd never seen her name written in his hand before, but the moment she read it, it was as if she could hear his voice echoing through her head, as if he were sitting right beside her.

Hiya Suze

If you're reading this, that means I've gone down - which is unfortunate, to say the least. Hopefully I'm alive in some stinking Nazi prison camp somewhere, but even that's a pretty sad thing to be hoping for.

Either way, if I know you I know you're probably thinking that I'm a goddamn idiot right now for giving you this box instead of shipping it back to my folks. Which is suppose is fair, but I've decided there's some stuff I wanna get off my chest first, and I don't need my Ma reading all this.

I love you, Suze. I don't know if I'll have told you that by the time you end up reading this, but I hope I have. I also don't know if you'll feel the same - you're like if a brick wall had pretty hair or something, so I'm not even gonna try to guess what's going on there. If you don't, feel free to burn this, and I've left my folks' address in here somewhere so you don't have to keep all my shit. But please do me a favour and at least finish reading this thing first.

I think you're the best person I know. I literally can't think of a single other person that I'd trade over being with you. I know that you think deep down you don't really deserve to have people who care about you - I know you feel especially bad about how much I care about you, cuz you're kinda mean to me, but you should know that I never take any of that stuff personal. You're mad about a lotta stuff, but if I ever helped make you feel better, even once, then I think this whole thing has been worth it, really.

You told me once that you're not very pretty, and I swear it's the closest I've ever been to having a full-on goddamn stroke. When I saw you at Charlotte's wedding today I could barely look at anything else - I don't think I heard even a quarter of what that priest was saying. I think you think there's something ugly or broken in you, but Susie I need you to know that I'd happily spend the rest of my life proving to you that that ain't true. Even when you're grumpy or mean or you tell me to shut up (which you do all the time, and I think you're mostly just deflecting) you're never gonna be able to stop me from wanting to be here with you.

There's a chance we'll see each other again after you read this. If this whole thing is coming off as stupid then do me a solid and pretend you never read it. It's very late and I've had a lot to drink tonight. And I don't think I'm very good at being charming even when I'm sober.

I have no idea what's gonna happen to me, but I think a part of me feels okay because I know that no matter what happens up there, you're gonna be safe down here. And you're gonna be okay. I know you hate that you'll never be the same as you used to be, but you shouldn't be so hard on yourself. I've only ever met this version of Susie, and I don't think I've ever loved someone better.

I'm yours, Suze, whether you like it or not (although I know you'll tell me to fuck off if you don't, and I promise I'll listen). I don't know how to close this out with anything except that.

I'll see you tomorrow, but I hope future me gets to see you soon too.

Benny.

A teardrop landed upon the end of his signature, the curl of the 'y' blotted beneath the saltwater. Susie hadn't even realised she was crying.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to throw something, break something, because how dare he leave her like this? How dare he make himself so essential to her - give her a place of sanctuary only to tear it away again? Her mind was reeling, stumbling to catch up with everything he'd written, to fully comprehend that someone out there had written these words down and truly, earnestly meant them.

It was hard for Susie Lamb to believe that a man like Bernard DeMarco could love her. But he always made it sound so easy.

'When I saw you at Charlotte's wedding today...'

That had been the night? That day of all days had been the one - the one that clicked something for Benny, that made writing this letter seem all at once of utmost importance. The night she had been judged 'not the marrying type' - too abrasive, too cold to ever be loved and give love the way Charlotte could.

But he'd seen it. He'd known her better than the rest of them, and to him, she was worthy.

Susie never could've written something like this. The admission made her stomach hurt.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Crickets chirped noisily in the grass as a cool afternoon breeze brushed through her hair, sending shivers down her neck. Holding her cigarette to her lips, Susie took a long, deep breath, reaching a hand into the paper bag in her lap. The fields appeared so much larger when she was alone.

"Hey," Charlotte's voice echoed from behind her, clutching her own lunch as she clambered down the grassy slope to meet her. "Mind if I sit?"

"Yeah, sure," She nodded, mouth full as she took a bite of her sandwich.

Charlotte grunted faintly as she crouched down to sit beside her, wedding ring catching the light even beneath the gloomy layer of clouds that hung above them. Susie didn't look at her - just buried her cigarette in the wet dirt, extinguishing it as she sniffed loudly.

"You'll be okay," Charlotte stated after a while. She could feel her stare.

"Not something I've been known to deal with very well."

A pause. "... You mean your sister?"

Now Susie turned, eyes wide and watery. "What d'you know about that?"

Charlotte shrugged. "I know something happened to her. I assumed she died. We've all seen the photo you keep in your truck."

"That's none of your fucking business," She spat before she could think better of it, regretting the words as soon as they left her. Charlotte was unphased.

"You're allowed to make it my business. You don't have to do all of this shit on your own, Susie."

Her teeth dug into her bottom lip, tasting the metallic tang of blood as the skin split.

"We've been working together for over two years, it wouldn't kill you to let me in some time. Like you did with him."

"Don't," Susie squeaked, little more than a whisper. "I don't wanna talk about him."

"You should. It'll feel like shit until you do."

"It'll feel like shit anyway. Talking about it just reminds me of all the stuff I should've said to him."

"... Like what?"

"Like I loved him," She sniffed again, wiping her eye with the ball of her palm before the tears that were forming could fall. A half-eaten sandwich was clutched in her hand, but she found she'd lost her appetite.

Charlotte let out a huff of almost-laughter. "Oh, he knew that."

Susie's brow furrowed, the weight of her frown twisting her entire face. "I don't think so. I was bitchy and stubborn, and-"

"Susie." Her voice was soft yet firm, and it shut her up immediately. "He knew that. Everyone knew that."

Her vision had blurred through the tears, an involuntary gasp of laughter escaping her. "You think?"

"You two weren't as subtle as you thought you were, m'love," Charlotte grinned. At this, Susie began to laugh - chuckles coming soft at first, before they began to shake her shoulders, expression contorted beneath the weight of her smile. But somewhere along the way the tears had slipped in too, guffaws slowly giving way to sobs, and before she knew it she was crying against Charlotte's shoulder, tugged closer in a sideways embrace.

"You're gonna be okay, Susie."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was an unusually cold day, even for November, the stink of oil still thick in the air from where the mechanics had burnt it away the night before, tyre tracks cutting through the wet sheen left by the rain across the tarmac. Susie reached for the flask of tea in the passenger seat, taking a long sip as she let the warmth soothe her throat, filling her up from within. Letting out a breath, the air fogged in front of her face, condensation steaming up the windscreen.

"Heya," Maeve chirped as she stepped up to the window, fingerless gloved leaving her fingertips cold and pink as they drummed against the metal, a scarf wrapped tightly around her neck.

"'Ello," Susie greeted in return, passing her the flask without ever having to ask. "Y'alright?"

"Yeah. Bevan says we're gonna need to get a new .50 caliber in for the Riveters, though."

"You're kidding."

"Nope."

Susie sighed, scrounging around in the glovebox for a moment until she found her notebook. "Might take a while. I'll probably have to make a special trip for it."

"I'll come," Maeve shrugged, the suggestion giving her pause. The girl had occupied Susie's passenger seat countless times, but it still felt like his.

"Alright, sure. Thanks for letting me know."

Flashing a smile, Maeve began to walk away, almost skidding on her heel as she did a double take, reappearing at the window fast enough to startle. "Oh! By the way-"

"Jesus Christ."

"- Post came in this morning when you were out. Left yours on your bed."

"Fab. Thanks," Susie nodded, engine roaring as she stirred it awake, the truck shuddering beneath her as she pulled away.

Maeve hadn't been wrong - as Susie returned to their hut a few hours later, a pair of letters were sitting upon her pillow, unopened and untouched, waiting for her to receive them. She gnawed absent-mindedly at the inside of her cheek, tired from a day's work and barely paying attention as she scanned the addresses etched upon the envelopes.

The first came from one of her sisters - Sally or Nancy, although she could never quite tell their handwriting apart, nor could she remember their addresses without checking. Sucking her teeth, she tossed it onto the nightstand, a wordless reminder to read it later before she went to bed.

The second gave her pause.

The envelope was far more battered than the first, corners dulled, ink smudged in places. For a moment she'd suspected one of her brothers - perhaps Ronnie's musings from whichever French town he was currently billeting in. But she knew his writing, and this wasn't it.

Nevertheless, it was certainly familiar...

Brow furrowed, Susie let her curiosity seize her, clumsily tearing at the envelope until the folded scrap of paper came free, unfurling in her palm.

Hiya Suze

The opening line hit like a punch to the gut, knocking the air from her lungs until she couldn't breathe, until she felt ready to keel over and vomit across the polished floor.

She wasted no time with the letter's contents - they could wait for now - her eyes scanning immediately to the end of the page. A choked sob tore free from her throat.

All my love,

Benny

[daitranscripts]

Iron Bull Cutscene

Dragon Hunting

Iron Bull Masterpost

If the PC kills a dragon and Bull isn’t in the party Iron Bull: So you killed a dragon, and you didn’t bring me along. It’s fine, I know how it goes. You gotta have the team you’re comfortable with for the big jobs. Still, you find another one out there, I’m happy to help. Always wanted to go up against one of the big guys.

If Bull is in the party when a dragon is fought

Approaching a dragon Iron Bull: Looks like Dragon territory. Oh, this is gonna be good.

When the dragon appears Iron Bull: Oh, would you look at that! That is magnificent!

During the fight

Iron Bull: (Shouts)

Iron Bull: Oh, yeah! Look at that! Taarsidath-an halsaam!

When Bull takes damage

Iron Bull: (Grunts.)

Iron Bull: I’m okay!

Iron Bull: Still worth it!

When the dragon is defeated This… is the greatest day of my life! Did you all see that? (Shouts.)

—

The PC speaks to Bull back at Skyhold

Iron Bull: Inquisitor! Come have a drink!

Iron Bull: To killing a high dragon like warriors of legend!

1 - Dialogue options:

Investigate: What is this? [2]

General: I’m not drinking that. [3]

General: [Drink.] [4] +Iron Bull approves

2 - Investigate: What is this? PC: What exactly am I supposed to be drinking? Iron Bull: Maraas-lok. PC: What does that mean? Iron Bull: It means drink! [back to 1]

3 - General: I’m not drinking that. PC: No offence, Bull, but I think you’re on your own. Iron Bull: Ah, suit yourself. Scene ends.

4 - General: [Drink.] PC: (Swallows.) Iron Bull: I know, right? Put some chest on your chest.

Iron Bull: That little gurgle right before it spat fire? And that roar. What I wouldn’t give to roar like that. The way the ground shook when it landed. The smell of fires burning… Taarsidath-an halsaam. You know Qunari hold dragons sacred? Well, as much as we hold anything sacred.

Iron Bull: Here, your turn.

5 - Dialogue options:

Investigate: What was that Qunari phrase? [6]

General: I’m done drinking. [7]

General: [Drink.] [8] +Iron Bull approves

6 - Investigate: What was that Qunari phrase? PC: That thing you just said. You shouted it during the fight, too. What does it mean? Iron Bull: Oh, taarsidath-an halsaam? Closest translation would be, “I will bring myself sexual pleasure later, while thinking about this with great respect.” PC: You shouted that while it was breathing fire at us. Iron Bull: I know, right? (Grunts.) [back to 5]

7 - General: I’m done drinking. PC: I think I’m finished, thanks. Iron Bull: Really? Really. (Chuckles.) More for me, then. Scene ends.

8 - General: [Drink.] PC: (Swallows.) Iron Bull: Yeah! The second cup’s easier. Most of the nerves in your throat are dead after the first one.

Iron Bull: Ataashi. “The glorious ones.” That’s our word for them. Ataaaaasheeeeeee.

9 - Dialogue options:

Investigate: Why are dragons sacred? [10]

General: I’m sorry we had to kill it. [11]

General: Now I feel awkward. [12]

General: They’re just beasts. [13] -Iron Bull slightly disapproves

10 - Investigate: Why are dragons sacred? PC: Why do you think the Qunari think of dragons that way? Iron Bull: Well, you know how we have horns? We kind of look more… dragony… than most people. Maybe it’s that. But a few of the Ben-Hassrath have this crazy old theory. See, the tamassrans control who we mate with. They breed us for jobs like you’d breed dogs or horses. What if they mixed in some dragon a long time ago? Maybe drinking the blood, maybe magic. I don’t know. But something in that dragon we killed… spoke to me. [back to 9]

11 - General: I’m sorry we had to kill it. PC: It’s a shame we had to kill the dragon. Iron Bull: Damn good fight. [14]

12 - General: Now I feel awkward. PC: When you put it like that, I’m worried I killed one of your gods or something. Iron Bull: Nah. One of Tevinter’s gods, maybe. They worshipped dragons, right? Kill the shit out of them all you like. [14]

13 - General: They’re just beasts. PC: Dragons are big and powerful, but they’re just animals. Iron Bull: They’re more than that. Shit, the Vints used to worship the damn things. [14]

14 - Scene continues.

Iron Bull: Dragons are the embodiment of raw power. But it’s all uncontrolled, savage… So they need to be destroyed. Taming the wild. Order out of chaos. Have another drink.

Dialogue options:

General: I’m really done. [15]

General: [Drink.] [16] +Iron Bull approves

15 - General: I’m really done. PC: I’ve had more than enough already. Iron Bull: Your loss!

16 - General: [Drink.] PC: (Swallows.) Iron Bull: (Laughs.) Nice! To dragons! (Swallows.)

Dialogue options:

Flirt: To you. [17] +Iron Bull slightly approves

General: To good fights. [18] +Iron Bull slightly approves

General: To bringing order. [19] +Iron Bull slightly approves

General: To bad drinks. [20] +Iron Bull slightly approves

17 - Flirt: To you. PC: To the Iron Bull. Iron Bull: And his ass-kicking Inquisitor.

If romanced/slept with Bull Iron Bull: Hey. Hey, kadan, listen. I always want to say this, and I never can when we’re off saving the world.

Iron Bull (female PC): You’ve got fantastic tits. Iron Bull (male PC): You’ve got a fantastic ass.

PC: Awwww. Scene ends.

18 - General: To good fights. PC: To finding the biggest, baddest things in the world and showing them that we’re badder. Iron Bull: Anaan! Scene ends.

19 - General: To bringing order. PC: To building order out of chaos… even if it means killing some dragons along the way. Iron Bull: Even. “Even if?” Especially if! Scene ends.

20 - General: To bad drinks. PC: To whatever this is, and the hangover it’s going to give me tomorrow. Iron Bull: Anaan! Scene ends.

[babygirlboeser]

munch matt thoughts…

this man would LOVE going down on you. could live between your legs and will go for hours if you let him. he just wants to make you feel good and loves watching you fall apart for him. he’s always ready too, it would take literally nothing to get him going. i feel like you could just randomly walk into whatever room he’s in and say “matty i want head” and it might catch him off guard for a sec but he would NOT be asking questions. he actually finds it so hot when you’re straightforward like that, know what you want and aren’t afraid to communicate it. then he would practically be jumping up and dragging you to bed, or just scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to the bedroom and tossing you on the bed. or you’re pushing him down and climbing on top of him and riding his face. no matter what, if you’re ready he’s ready. this man would never pass up the opportunity. he just loves it.

head between your legs for hours and him making you cum so many times, “cmon baby you can give me one more.” he never wants to stop because he just loves seeing you all fucked out and whining his name.

PRAISE. from both of you. you’re literally just laying there but he keeps calling you good girl and telling you how good you taste. if he’s really going at it and overstimulating you he’d tell you you’re taking it so well, doing such a good job, “look so pretty like this”, etc. you’re of course also praising him, constantly reminding him how good he’s making you feel and that’s he’s so good at this. though between your gasps, moans, shaking legs and crying his name, he gets the point.

first time with him; whether he’s confident or nervous, he’s damn good at it. either he’s had lots of experience, or he’s just a fucking natural. as for the first time, on one hand i feel like he would be mr. confident right off the bat BUT i could potentially see it either way. maybe the first couple times he’s worried he’s not doing well because he just wants to please you but he doesn’t know your body yet. he’s constantly asking for reassurance and you can tell he’s nervous. you keep reminding him that it feels so good and praising him between moans. if he was nervous at all, well, between the praise, the sound of your moans, the way your thighs shake and clench around him, and the way you tug on his hair and grind against his face, it would not take long for him to become confident in his abilities.

like i said i could see him being confident right off the bat however if he wasn’t then just imagine after he eats you out for the first time and him looking up at you with those pretty doe eyes asking if he did okay and you’re just laying there trying to catch your breath and whimpering out a “y-yeah” like fuck yes u did okay was that not evident by the screaming your name and my whole body shaking?

he’s a fast learner. if you told him to do something differently or that you didn’t like something, he would listen and change what he’s doing right away. he just wants to do whatever is gonna make you feel best. i feel like communicating what you do and don’t like would be so easy with him and you would both learn each others bodies really fast.

moaning against your pussy and thighs. also kissing your inner thighs before and after he eats you out. whispering sweet things against your thighs like how beautiful you are, that he loves u, etc.

would 10000% wrap his arms around your legs to hold you in place, but how could you not squirm when he’s making you feel so good?

don’t even get me started on those long ass fingers fucking into you while he’s sucking on your clit.

FACESITTING. i cant even form a coherent thought about this. just. facesitting. and him grabbing your hips to hold you still and telling you to stop squirming. you cum so fast when you’re on his face. he looks so pretty underneath you and he thinks you look so pretty on top of him.

if you were being bratty he’s either pinning you down and pulling as many orgasms from you as he can or he’s just edging you for so long until you’re shaking and begging him to let you cum. he would love to hear you beg and whimper. ur an overstimulated mess but that’s your payment for giving him attitude. he of course does eventually give in and make you cum, he’ll never actually just leave you hanging, he loves you too much and wants you to feel good but he did have to have his fun with it first.

he would get so turned on just by your moans and knowing that he’s making you feel so good but man is practically finishing in his pants but you of course are always willing to return the favour and give him some mind blowing head but he’s already so worked up from pleasing you that he cums so fast the second you take him in your mouth.

i could honestly probably keep going but in conclusion matt is hot as fuck and would give you the best head of your life and there’s nothing he loves as much as he loves making you feel good.

ok this was supposed to be just a couple quick thoughts but i just couldn’t stop and literally sat here writing these for an hour i’m so sorry i’m omw to horny jail now bye

[tcustodisart]

Don't mind me I'm just being cringe.