#“booty bump all that negativity away”

[masugi-sugi]

I woke up to a video of yeop doing zumba and now I feel like I can take anything my day throws at me

[lady-z-writes]

I was asked to write a sequel for this Heisenberg x Reader where Reader is an American visiting the village and her crop tops and booty shorts have caught the eye of Heisy. She's very intrigued by the village and has asked Heisy to let her stay with him instead of the little inn...

Purely smutty part 2 ahead:

The walk up to the factory proves to be cold for you in your little outfit. He sees the chill bumps on your skin. Yes, he's looking. Yes, you notice the side-glances from behind his glasses.

He hadn't really offered to take your bag when you checked out of the inn but you sort of tossed it at him so he begrudgingly shoulders it on the hike.

He's...intrigued by you. Your spunk, your audacity. It's off-putting yet he kinda likes it.

"You live in a factory?" your eyebrows raise as you cross the bridge.

He's puffing on a cigar, the smoke wafting behind him as the wind picks up.

"What'd you expect?"

You give him a once-over and he'd be lying if he said it didn't thrill him to have your eyes on him. "Good point."

The urge to push you against the wall and pin you there is strong. Entering his domain, he feels a sense of control returning and he's making an effort to behave himself.

A loud thud makes you jump, drawing closer to him. He can feel your body heat, almost reaches up to grip your hair and pull you nearer.

His hand falters to your side, a gentle touch - just one - but you notice.

He wishes he had his gloves off, wants so badly to feel how soft your skin is, to touch those chill bumps, bruise you and watch you squirm beneath him.

You draw closer despite his stillness. It's like you can read his expression, can see the gears turning as he thinks the most impure thoughts.

And then you do the most curious thing.

You touch him.

A simple touch - your right hand on his forearm - but he feels it, thanks the heavens that he'd left his jacket off and rolled his sleeves up.

His mouth is dry, suddenly doesn't have any witty retort. He meets eyes with you, letting out a deep exhale that teeters on a growl around the edges.

And you break the silence:

"Do you have any whiskey?"

Wonders never cease.

You're a good time, he decides as you're halfway through your drink. You've wandered around a bit and inspected his makeshift office.

He'd taken you a specific route to get there, doesn't want to turn you off with his metal army before this can go wherever it's going.

"And you're here by yourself?"

He raises an eyebrow at that. "...yes?"

It's been silent since you thanked him as he poured whiskey, which is odd. He thinks you must have been deep in thought and is intrigued that this is what you come back with.

"That's surprising to me," you set your drink down, walk over to him. He clears his throat, trying to look at your face and not your tits.

"Is it?" This is the most he's spoken to you, he realizes.

You don't owe him this compliment. You don't owe him anything and he's finding it challenging to grasp this. Why would you, a tourist, come to his residence and compliment him?

He's fighting off those negative thoughts, trying to tell himself that not everything is manipulation; but his experiences have routed his brain to fire at defensiveness as an instinct.

He doesn't have much more time to process this before your lips are pressing against his.

To his surprise, he kisses you back.

It's instant, your reaction once he's leaned into you: you pull him closer, let your hands trail down his shoulders. The chill this touch sends through him...

Then suddenly it's like you're reawakened, remembering yourself:

"I'm sorry - I'm so sorry if this is too much," you suddenly break away from the kiss, just the slightest bit but he's pulling you closer, almost bruising in his next move.

You've made a mistake, he's sure, and in the next two minutes he'll let you walk out of the factory unharmed - mostly because he's still a little shell-shocked this is happening - but after that? Two more minutes and you're his.

The kissing continues, intensifies. You force his gloves off and you let him touch you; his fingers on your flesh, tracing down your exposed stomach in that shirt. You're warm, real, and it's making him lose control bit by bit.

"What do you want?" he manages in a growl when he has you pressed against his desk.

His eyes are closed behind those glasses and you see the tension in his jaw.

"K-Karl," you hum, slightly out of breath from the intensity of the moment. "I want you, isn't it obvious?"

It's enough.

It's everything.

He's letting you kiss him and undress him and - God - it's been too long since he's been wanted. He's losing himself, can feel the guarded demeanor just melt away with every caress, every sigh.

Your hands travel between his legs and Heisenberg groans at the stiffness of his cock. He's so hard for you, it's flattering.

Before he knows it he's let you strip him of his shirts, unbuckle his belt. His bare hands stroke over your soft clothes before he pulls those off too.

Staring at your tits, he dips down to pop your left nipple in his mouth, fingers playing with your right one. There's no hesitation, no asking for permission, no denying the pleasure you both seem to crave from each other.

His cock is leaking by the time you pull him from his pants. The relief from your touch doesn't last long and he can tell you're eager to blow him but he can't wait any longer.

Pulling your panties off, he lets his fingers fumble over your clit before jutting a finger inside you. Greed consumes him as he works you toward your first orgasm; muscles clenching around him, warm wetness reigniting a long-buried desire in him.

When he's satisfied, he pulls from you, coats his cock in your wetness, then lines himself up with your eager pussy.

"A bed?" you gasp at him.

He shakes his head. "No. Now."

"Karl," you gasp, trying to press against him.

He almost uses his powers and then he remembers he's faking good - playing a role - not ready to steer you away, especially not now.

"Quit being a cocktease," he mumbles.

You raise a brow at him. "So he has a spine? Fascinating."

Oh, you wouldn't believe the half of it.

"You gonna spread those pretty legs or am I gonna have to get creative?"

You don't reply, but your body shifts closer to the edge of the desk he's seated you on and you shove your hips against him in a slow thrust.

His grip is bruising when he spreads your legs for you. He's learning how much of a brat you are and...he kinda likes it - the fight in you, the fire.

You're gripping at his neck when he slides into you and he just about busts at the moment. Fuck, it's like you're exposing all of his needs right in the moment. He feels exposed yet oddly safe.

You're so wet for him and he, of course, has to mention it several times; is proud of it, impressed. It gets better when he keeps constant pressure on your clit, pressing a thumb against it and rubbing deep, slow circles.

You cum. You cum on his cock and he chokes on air at the muscles tightening around him, the way you squeeze him as you're panting out his name and knotting your fingers in his hair.

"So good, fuck, so good," you gasp.

The mouth on you...

You're unlike anything he's ever seen. To have you fucked so good on his desk, it almost feels like a dream.

Before you get too comfortable, he pulls back, slips out of you, forces you to your feet. Shaky legs steady you and he spins you around and shoves your face against the desk. He's probably bruised your cheek from the pressure, but you don't seem to mind.

Easily, his cock finds your pussy and he glides right back in. Eyes closed, he throws his head back as he slowly starts a steady pace in you.

Glory. What glory.

And when you say, "damn it, oh fuck, Karl...gonna make me cum again," he feels his cock twitch inside of you, knows that he's too far gone.

"Mmm, quickly, kitten," is all he can get out before you're rutting back against him.

He lasts longer than he expects, really, given the circumstances.

You almost don't get off again before he's pulling back from you to spill all down your lower back.

The moment you feel him shifting, you throw your weight back against him.

"No, in me. Karl, please...I'm...it's safe,"

He doesn't really comprehend all that - not after hearing you tell him to cum inside of you.

It's too late, he's officially too far gone to hold back anymore and he cries out as a powerful orgasm overwhelms him.

You're cumming too, based on the noises you're making and the way you're slamming yourself back against him in desperate fervor. It just adds to his rutting into you; so powerful, fingers digging into the flesh on your hips.

"Fuck, take it," he pants, enjoying the moment. "Such a fuckin' cocktease strutting around town like that," he's rambling at this moment, sounding like an old drunk as he comes down from his release, letting you ride yours out. "Been thinking about this all day - this pretty sight - fucked so good..."

You're practically flat against the desk now, ass on display for him as he slowly slides his half-hard cock out of you.

The room is filled with a humidity he hadn't felt before; with a silence now that the ringing in his ears is done.

You're looking over your shoulder at him, hair a mess, some of his cum dripping out of you.

What a beautiful sight. Picture perfect, really.

"Holy fuck, Karl..." you gasp with a laugh.

He lights a cigar, stands there perfectly naked, just looking at you. You feel like an art exhibit.

"You mentioned a bed," he raises a brow at you. "And I'm not finished with you yet, kitten."

You accept the invitation without blinking.

[kopikokun]

Request 03 : Jaehyun + Bestfriends to Lovers + “Fuck it, a new year is about to start, and I can’t go another year hiding this from you - I love you.” (72)

New Year’s Eve was something you always looked forward to. The annual occasion had your gut whirring and you biting your lip swollen in excitement.

Your group of friends classified you as the positive type. The type who looked past the gloomy clouds to see a rainbow. The type who tilted your head skywards when it poured, fluttering your eyes shut and letting the minuscule droplets pelt down onto your face.

You thought negativity was overrated. Sure, you could feel sorry for or punish yourself for forgetting your umbrella that one rainy day, but wouldn’t it be better for both you and the people around you if you just took everything with a smile?

Thus, you didn’t take New Year’s as the end of something good, but rather the beginning of something bigger, better even. You were often teased for this mindset. People said you sounded like their aunt on Facebook with ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ posters against her teal walls. Jaehyun especially just loved to rave about how old you sounded. That he felt like he was hanging out with a yoga instructor when he was around you.

You scoffed. It was almost comical how he said all that, yet here he was in your bedroom – like every New Year’s Eve – flopped on the bed beside you.

“Hey, what are you thinking about?” pestered Jaehyun.

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie. You’re doing that funny face you do whenever you’re deep in thought.” Jaehyun tapped your nose.

You swatted his hand away. “I do not make a funny face whenever I’m deep in thought.”

“Yes, you do!” Jaehyun wrapped his arms around your waist and tugged you closer. “Like this.” He furrowed his brows and pursed his lips.

“I do not!” You thrashed against him and he caged you in with his legs. “Jae! Let go of me!”

“No,” Jaehyun tucked his face in the crook of your shoulder. “I’m sleepy, and you’re cosy.”

You flushed. How could he still make you flustered after so many years? At least your heart didn’t pump out of your chest like it used to, but you still felt the faint pounding in your ribcage whenever he was around. You always tried to smother your feelings towards Jaehyun; you didn’t want to demolish a perfectly good friendship. But it never truly disappeared. It always lingered at the back of your heart, resurfacing whenever he smiled at you or laughed.

“Jaehyun! We can’t stay in like last year!” you complained. “I want to see the fireworks!”

Jaehyun whined, snuggling closer. “But doesn’t cuddling with me sound so nice right now? I just took a shower, I smell nice, and it’s cold out but warm in here. What else could you possibly want?”

“To see the fireworks.”

Jaehyun pulled away from your shoulder to scrunch his nose at you. With his left hand, he nestled your chin between the dip of his thumb and first finger and squished your cheeks together, your lips puckering. “God, you’re so persistent.”

“I told you over the phone how much I wanted to see them,” you pointed out. Jaehyun released his hold of your waist and rolled away onto his back, hands clasped on top of his stomach. “If you wanted to stay inside and cuddle, you could’ve spent New Year’s with your booty call.” You gnawed on your bottom lip, staring up as your fan spun. You couldn’t help but be jealous of Jaehyun’s ‘endeavours’. You had no right to – he was only your friend – yet you naïvely clung to the idea of him having feelings for you. You brushed the thought away.

“What? And miss hanging out with you?” Jaehyun scoffed, shifting to prop himself up with his right elbow. “I wouldn’t miss hanging out with you for some girl I met in a bar. And you know it was only a fling.”

You restrained the urge to turn and face him, instead opting to stand to your feet. The cold wooden tiles felt unfamiliar beneath your soles. “I know, Jae. You don’t have to justify yourself. You can sleep with whoever you like . . . I don’t care.” Lies. You were spouting nonsense, but Jaehyun needn’t know that.

“You don’t?”

Why is he pushing this? “Well, it’s only fair since you don’t bother with who I sleep with. Because, you know, personal space; boundaries.” You offered a half-hearted smile. Jaehyun returned it with much less enthusiasm. “So come on! Go get dressed. I’d rather spend New Year’s eating good food and staring at amazing fireworks than talk about our bland sex lives.”

“Hey! Who said mine is bland?”

“Oh my God, shut up, Jaehyun!” You ran your hands down your face. “And by the time I’m done, you better be off your ass and ready.”

As you trudged into the bathroom, you heard Jaehyun call after you. “You’re starting to sound like an old lady again!”

You couldn’t believe you had feelings for that dumb-ass.

***

“See, this is exactly the reason why staying indoors for New Year’s and cuddling is the superior option. At least then we wouldn’t havie to bear the stench of vomit and sweat.”

“It isn’t that bad, Jae. You’re just being overdramatic.” You dragged an unwilling Jaehyun, making your way through the dense crowd. “And I’m not eating cup ramen like last year, so having street food is an improvement in my books.”

“Then we could’ve just ordered something!” protested Jaehyun. “We could’ve had warm food . . . and warm cuddles.”

“And the fireworks?”

“We could’ve seen a livestream! I heard Haechan’s going with Jaemin and Jeno, we could’ve asked them to broadcast it for us.”

“But it’ll look so much better in person, Jae.” Your footsteps slowed to a halt in front of the rows of vendors and haphazardly arranged tables. “And we’re already here anyway, to go back now would be a waste.”

Jaehyun grumbled beside you, crossing his arms and pouting. You shook your head and manoeuvred the two of you to a tteokbokki stall, mustering the sweetest smile possible and ordering your fill. From the corner of your eye, you caught Jaehyun’s tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip.

“See, Jae. Doesn’t this look so much better than last year’s overcooked ramen?”

“Excuse me, you’re the only one to blame for that. You were handling the stove, not me. I make excellent ramen, okay?”

You nudged him with your elbow, childishly making a ‘Meh, meh, meh’ sound. The vendor gave you an odd look as she passed you your tteokbokki and you smiled sheepishly. Jaehyun snorted.

“Serves you right,” said Jaehyun as you strode towards the riverbank which was teeming with both the elderly and teenagers.

“Shut up and walk faster. I didn’t come all this way to listen to you nag and not see those damn fireworks.”

“Okay, auntie.”

You raised your fist and made what you hoped was a menacing face. Evidently, it wasn’t – Jaehyun was laughing. In spite of your best efforts, your heartbeat began accelerating as you stared at the man before you. A warm glow overtook your cheeks.

The rough bump of someone’s shoulder against yours made you stumble. You realised with a start that the crowd had begun their mad dash to the open area – the one with the best view. You blindly reached for Jaehyun’s hand, tugging him with urgency. You were behind schedule; you thought you had had enough time to make it without being caught in the crowd, but you and Jaehyun’s bickering had been a factor you failed to consider – which was dumb of you because you two always squabbled.

You picked up your pace, mumbling low “sorry”s along the way.

“Hey, slow down! I’m going to spill my tteokbokki,” warned Jaehyun.

You gripped his hand tighter and shot a pleading look. “Please, Jae. I really want to get a good view of those fireworks.”

Jaehyun smiled softly, his eyes crinkling around the edges. “Okay, you cutie.”

With every pound of your feet against the pavement, the sound of people buzzing with unadulterated excitement grew clearer and clearer. You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth. You were going to make it. You had to.

And you did.

The area was brimming with life. Festive lights were strung across lampposts, people were wearing light-up hats. Everywhere you turned all you could see were hundreds of faces alight with joy, anticipation.

And the sky, my God the sky. Unlike previously, it was clear, with no buildings obstructing your sight. The wide expanse of pitch black darkness was littered with stars and, maybe it was just your giddiness, but you swore the moon shone brighter than it usually did.

“Wow, it’s so pretty,” you breathed.

“It really is.”

You turned to look at Jaehyun who was staring right back at you. You flushed. “Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked.

“I’m just thinking.”

All around you, people began counting down the seconds to New Year’s. With each number, you felt your gut stir.

“Ten.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nine.”

“I – It’s nothing.”

“Eight.”

“You’re lying, Jae.”

“Seven.”

“Maybe I am.”

“Six.”

“Ah, just tell me.”

“Five.”

“I told you, it’s nothing.”

“Four.”

You huffed. “Fine.”

You began counting with the crowd, but you could still see Jaehyun staring intensely at you from the corner of your eye. You clenched your jaw anxiously.

“Three.”

Jaehyun inhaled shakily, and he ran a hand through his hair. What is up with him?

“Two.”

“Fuck it.” Jaehyun reached over, taking your hand which wasn’t holding onto the tteokbokki cup in his. Your eyes met and you creased your brows. “A new year is about to start, and I can’t go another year hiding this from you.”

“One.”

“I love you.”

The fireworks went off immediately, bursting with colour, blooming into bright, luminescent flowers against the ink black sky. The crowd’s cheers were deafening, yet the sound of your heart ringing in your ears was somehow louder.

Jaehyun held your gaze. “God, I’ve loved you for so long. Every time I look at you, it’s like I’m glowing. I love being around you. I love you. I love your eyes, your smile, your laugh, your stupid thinking face – everything about you makes me melt. I’ve wanted to tell you for years, yet I’ve never had the courage to. I’ve wanted you to be mine for the longest time, and – and I know this is a shitty confession—”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and grinned. “Shut up, you dumb-ass.”

“I love you too, Jae.”

want to request? go here!

[pockpop]

bts reaction to s/o being thicc

↬ synopsis; reaction to their s/o being thicc 

↬ genre; fluff, minor angst, mature themes, thicc!reader

↬ requested? yee, thank you for requesting love ♡

↬ a/n; this was kind of all over the place I’m sorry :( BUUUUTTTT it’s finally here 乁( •_• )ㄏand I hope you like it!

jin ♡

days with him having no work, no promotions to do, no interviews, just you and him, were your favorites. he was so alive and instead of lazing around or just chilling, he was always pushing you so stuff with him. but on this particular day, he wanted to bake with you. you two danced around the kitchen together, being silly and cute as you baked a cake.

but you hadn’t been paying much attention and your hip bumped the table, knocking over a glass cup and shattering glass everywhere. almost instantly, jin was moving to get you out of the way of the glass since you were barefoot.

“no jin don’t-“ but he was already lifting you off the floor and onto the counter, his large hands still gripping your love handles even though he set you down.

“I could’ve gotten up there by myself you know,” you mumbled making jin smirk,” just let me take care of you for once, yeah?”

you rolled your eyes but let your gaze fall down to where his hands were still settled. “there’s glass everywhere you know,” you said meeting his eyes finally and his cheeks flushed as you caught him deadass staring at you. he would’ve defended it as admiring. but he couldn’t help it, your chosen outfit left nothing to the imagination and now that he was really looking at you, his mind was going into overload because damn how’d he get so lucky.

“right the glass, but first-“ he leaned forward capturing your plump lips in a kiss. when he pulled away, the dorkiest smile was on his face,”sorry I couldn’t help myself, you’re just so kissable.”

you seriously had to push him away to go get a broom.

yoongi ♡

yoongi loves naps okay, hundred percent loves them but after having them with you? he honestly now can’t sleep without you near. they just ain’t the same.

you were at work when you got bombarded with texts from him like

I’m sleepy, come home

it’s been proven, sleep without you isn’t it

don’t make me nap alone

I feel abandoned

you had to laugh at how needy he was being but when you did finally get home, he was dragging you to the bed.

“wow nice to see you too,”

“we don’t talk during cuddle time.” he’d state in all seriousness and is already laying down and making grabby hands for you to join him.

you changed into one of his shirts and some shorts before joining him, one leg swung over his hips, your soft body curling into his. you could feel him relax instantly at your touch and had to laugh when he was snoring just seconds later.

hoseok ♡

you two were riding in his car, top down,late night, blasting your playlist. you two had shared a blunt or two and singing along to the songs way too loud.

hoseok had one hand on the wheel and the other gripping your thigh, constantly squeezing it whenever he had to brake or to get your attention as he rapped lyrics of love to you.

his hooded eyes were always looking over to you, his heart fluttering seeing you bounce on his leather seats as you sang along, being so free and happy, the streetlights didn’t have anything on how you fucking glowed.

a friend had pulled him aside that night and made a comment on your weight but that comment was so negative and ignorant, he couldn’t understand how they couldn’t see how gorgeous you were.

so when he had parked somewhere remote and found himself with his head between your thighs, your moans being the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, he sure as hell didn’t regret telling that friend to fuck off.

namjoon ♡

you were meeting his friends for the first time and of course you were nervous. he had talked you up well and you wanted to have a good first impression.

you had clothes all over the room by the time namjoon had come over to pick you up. he came into your room to see you bent over in your closet.

“while that’s a nice sight to see, baby why aren’t you dressed yet? we’re gonna be late.”

you turned around to face him with a pout and he had to smile at how cute you looked.

“because I have no clothes”

namjoon scoffed looking at the hundreds of clothes just thrown everywhere,”you sure about that?”

groaning, you stomped over to him and rested your head on his chest and instinctively he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible.

“what if they don’t like me or you know say some shit.”

“say some shit about what?”

you looked up at him then stepped back,”about all this,” you said motioning to your body and namjoon raised a eyebrow,”nah ma not this shit, you fine, you look like a queen in whatever you put on all this and you need to get dressed so I can finally show off my baby.” he mushed your forehead gently with his pointer finger and laughed when you swatted his hand.

“I can’t stand you,” you replied but still started gathering the clothes from your first outfit choice and namjoon just pulled you close, giving you a passionate kiss on the lips.

jimin ♡

you two were at this house party that honestly jimin didn’t want to go to. he only went along because you begged him to and you looked fine as hell in the new dress he bought you. it was a short summer dress that hugged your plump body so perfectly, he wouldn’t lie he had his eyes on your booty most of the night.

The place was packed with people, Hennessy spilt on the floor, and the smell of weed in the air. the floor was thumping from the pounding bass from the speakers and when one of your favorite throwback jams came on, you pulled jimin onto the dance floor.

your back to his front, instantly his hands were gripping your waist as you threw it back on him so well.

you always knew how to move your body in a way that always blew him away, your hips found the rhythm better than his dance trained ones and you always had him hypnotized.

let’s just say y’all danced all night and he was so damn happy he bought you that dress.

taehyung ♡

“can you just sit still for me? a little longer baby I promise.”

recently you two had watched titanic for the first time, and you joked to taehyung to ‘paint me like one of your French girls.”

but an hour later and you were laying across the couch in your living room being painted by him.

your eyes looking right at him as he sat behind the canvas, his cocoa brown eyes continuously glancing over as he sketched you out. his pencil was capturing every dip and curve, the softness of your round cheeks to the stretch marks decorating your hips. when he caught your eyes, he bit his lip, almost blushing like schoolboy, you both giggling a little at the interaction.

once he was finished, it was his hands guiding themselves over your body, always in admiration and full of love.

jungkook ♡

of course jungkook was aware of how curvaceous you were. shit you two had been together for a few months and he’s still clingy af, but today just hit different.

you two were supposed to be going to a little get together at hoseok’s, a pool party since the summer heat was relentless lately.

jungkook was already dressed and playing his game to pass the time while he waited for you.

“baby? what about this swimsuit? I don’t know, maybe it’s showing too much?” you call from the room, jungkook barely glanced over his shoulder and instead said,”come out here and let me see it.”

he went back to pounding on the controller, his mind already wandering back to the game.

but the moment you stepped into his eyesight, the game was damn near forgotten.

his eyes trailed from bottom to top, the bathing suit left you nowhere to hide and he fucking loved it. the two piece did its job to accentuate every curve it could, showing off your soft tummy and thicc thighs. jungkook’s ears burned red and a shy smirk spread across his face.

“well? say something!” you pushed twirling for him.

“damn,”is all he could really stutter out making you laugh out loud.

let’s just say y’all showed up a little late to the party but definitely the flyest couple there.

[r3b3lgrrrrrrrl]

A LunaTic and her Gunn (Part 1)

"The Girl in the Cheetah Print Coat"

"OH!! KELLS!!"

Ashley yells from across the living room.

"I forgot to tell you, I invited my girl Luna out with us tonight. She's a bad ass chick whose an artist too. She shoots the most intimate pictures. You'll love her mus...."

Colson is sitting at the large dining room table rolling up joints for his birthday party tonight. He's listening but honestly he doesn't care who's gonna be there. His main objective is to get fuuuucked up tonight. Last year before The Big One.

"You mean Luna Smith, That Brooklyn Bitch!?!" Pete interrupts Ashley excitetedly. "I FUCKING LOVE HER!!! Dude, she's like one of my greatest friends. We go back to before I was doing stand up. She's one of the first people to push and shoot me."

"ME TOOOO!!!" laughs Ashley "I didn't know you knew her, that's crazy!"

In unison, "You ain't shit, until you've been shot by a Lunatic!!" they shout, laughing.

Colson fires up a joint as he vaguely listens to Pete and Ashley swap stories about this Luna chick. Running around Brooklyn, late night missions, this show here, that show there, .... all basic punk, riot gurl shit.... But wait.....? Talking her way outta a B&E AND resisting arrest charges!? Colson's ears perk up. He's just about to join the conversation when he's distracted by Dom, Ashley's boyfriend, plunking down beside him.

"Happy Fooking Birthday, Mate!!" he says as he helps out rolling and shots begin to flow. Colson's mind loses any thoughts of Luna.

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

An hour or so passes. The rest of the band shows up and a few close friends too. They're all over to pregame before dinner and the killer house party planned for afterwards. Over the bump of the music Colson hears the door bell. Needing a break and wondering who the fuck is at his door, he yells "I've got it."

He opens the door to find the back of a tiny body in a black leather jacket with long golden blonde hair cascading down it. There's a short, flowing red dress under it, booty popping out, tattooed legs and chunky heeled combat boots.

"My kinda style..." he thinks to himself, looking her up and down.

She turns around revealing bright, blue eyes. "HI!!!" She says, a wide smile spreading acrossed her face, making her eyes dance. "I'm Luna, Ashley's friend. You must be Colson." She continues, sticking her hand out to shake his. "Uh, yeah..." He stumbles, running his hand through his blonde hair subconsciously after he shakes her hand. "C'mon on in...." He steps back to allow her inside.

"Fuck Dude. Where have I seen her before??? He wonders to himself. "GOD, I KNOW I FUCKING KNOW HER. FUCK, FUCK, FUUUCK. God she's beautiful. I hope I wasn't an asshole. Fuck."

As Luna follows Colson inside she gently grabs his wrist. When he turns to her, she says "Ash told me it was your birthday. I hope you don't mind but I made you a gift."

"Wow. Thank you." Colson says, caught even more off gaurd.

"Wanna see it?" She asks.

"FUCK YEAH!" he replies with a huge grin.

"Cool." She says with a smile. "I need a table."

"Oh, it's like that???"

"It's like that." She shrugs.

Colson guides Luna to the dining table which now is littered with liquor bottles, cans of monster, rolling papers, joints and jars of bud. He clears off a space for the black leather portfolio case he just notices that she has been carrying.

"I hope you like it." She says, looking up into his sparkling blue eyes with a tiny smile.

She unzips the leather case exposing a canvas with the logo from his Lace Up album painted as the background. In the middle is a black and white photo of a young Colson looking directly at the camera from side stage. It's safety pinned on top of a peice of studded leather. Scattered through out the canvas are cut outs displaying little negatives. The top showcases his stage name MGK and under the picture is a ripped ticket stub. Luna steps aside, watching Colson's eyes light up in excitement and disbelief.

"HOLY. FUUCK." He says, looking over at her. "This is fucking amazing. Thank you".

He reaches to hug her but she ducks out of his grasp.

"Wait, wait, wait..." She says, lifting the art peice out. She touches the bottom of the canvas, making all the negatives light up bright to be clearly seen. They are of him performing during the same show.

"WHAT THE FUCK!!" He yells bouncing around the room, geeking for a second. "THAT IS FUCKING BAD ASS!" he exclaims. Without thinking Colson grabs Luna tightly around the waist, lifting her up and spinning her around. She laughs loudly, pleased with his happiness. "Thank you." He softly says again, kissing her lightly on the forehead as he puts her down, blushing. She can't help but notice how delicious he smells, with his long arm draped around her shoulder and his 6'4 body towering over her 5'2 frame. He engulfs her as he leans in to take a closer look. He recognizes that night immediately. Leaning back and staring so deeply into her eyes he can see the ring of yellow around her irises for the first time.

"Two things. Your eyes are fucking insane. And who took these?" He asks directly.

"Uhm... Thank you? And I did, at The Gramercy, I believe. It's on the stub on the bottom." She replies.

As Colson looks at the ticket stub his heart is racing. It confirms what he knows. "It's her. It's her. It's her." His mind keeps repeating. "Holy Fuck, she's The Girl in Cheetah Print Coat!!!" his brain can't help but scream. "Fuck it" he thinks "Shoot your shot."

"You gotta boyfriend?" Colson asks Luna ducking down closer to her face, mustering all his bravery, while his left arm is still around her.

"No." She says quietly, lightly shaking her head with a look of intrigue.

With that he craddles the side of her face with his whole right hand, kissing her deeply.

Luna's body had been warm since he first scooped her up but it immediately sets on fire the moment his mouth presses upon hers. She feels a wave wash over her, making her nipples hard and vagina plump. "WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?? I haven't since Just..." She thinks with a flash of pain in her heart before she allows herself to give into Colson completely and the electricity he sends pulsing through her body.

She kisses him back fully. Tongues dancing and exploring each other's warm mouths. Ending it with a long, intimate kiss on the lips, Colson stares at her deeply again.

"Be my birthday date?" He asks

"Yes." She answers without hesitation.

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

From across the room Ashley and Pete stand side by side watching their friends interact. "Well, THAT was unexpected." Ashley says. "Yeah." Pete replies. He and Ashley know both Luna and Colson very well. As good friends do. "They're either gonna soar or crash and burn. Either way, it's gonna be one hell of a ride." Ashley goes on. Pete stands with his hands in his pockets. "Yep.....and I blame it all on you." He jokes, lightly jabbing her in the ribs. She shoots him a 'bitch please' look. "They've both been through a lot." Ashley says. Pete sighs. "I know." As they make their way over to their newly acquainted friends.

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

"LOOOOOONS!!!!!!!!!" Pete and Ashley both scream.

"What she make you, Kells? Ashley asks while grabbing a laughing Luna for a tight hug.

"Yeah, she makes the best presents..." Pete chimes in, waiting his turn to hug and greet his friend.

"DUDES. Check this shit out." Colson says. Picking up the canvas and displaying it proudly in front of him.

"Damn, Loons!! You really out did yourself with this one!" exclaims Ashley. "How'd you do the lights???"

Luna beams. "Thanks, Ash. I just cut the canvas and ran a little watch battery powered strand of lights around the inside of the frame to put behind the negatives. It really wasn't that hard."

"It's fucking bad ass art is what it is. Thank you again." Colson says leaning in to kiss her directly in front of their friends. Luna blushes when she catches Ashley's eye afterwards. Ashley smiles back, happy for her friend.

"NOW WHO'S READY TO GET THIS FUCKING NIGHT STARTED!!!!" Colson yells as he carefully puts his gift back into its case. "Yo, Bro" he says turning to Pete. "You mind running this up to my room so it doesn't get fucked up? Thanks, Man." He finishes as Pete agrees and takes the case.

Colson turns to Luna. "You are something else, aren't you?" He half asks, half declares to her, while holding her face with both of his huge hands. She smiles as he slides his warm tongue back into her willing mouth.

"I could kiss her all night." He thinks.

Pete interrupts them when he returns. Colson kisses Luna hard before breaking away and declaring "AND WE OUT!!". He grabs Luna's hand tightly and leads her into the night.

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

At TAO everyone is laughing, eating and drinking. Luna is set between Colson and Ashley. Across from Pete and Rook, whom she just met but immediately decides she likes when he brings his drumsticks to dinner.

"Why do they call you That Brooklyn Bitch?" Rook asks.

Pete laughs "Because Loons over here is the ultimate underground scene queen. She knows you're hot before YOU know you're hot. Plus, her grandparents are Patti Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe. AND, she'll fuck you up, no questions asked. You don't get anymore Brooklyn than that." Pete continues laughing.

Luna rolls her eyes and smiles. "Thanks, Bud. You describe me so well. Fuck that I'm an artist. I make people cooool" Luna smiles, giving Pete the finger. "And of course you just gotta fit my lineage in there, hunh? Fucking Ass." She says laughing, throwing a peice of bread at him. "No," she continues, still smiling, turning to look at Rook. "I've had that nickname since I was a kid. It started because I was never afraid to throw down. No matter where you or I are. If you are my friend and there is a problem, you can count on that bitch from Brooklyn to be there."

"TRUTH!!" Shouts Ashley next to her. The girls laugh, as Ashley raises her glass to Luna's, cheersing all the shit they have experienced together through out the years.

Luna turns back to Rook "Ultimately it morphed and took on a life of it's own. I eventually began using it as my pen name when I first started putting my work out because I wanted to succeed on my merit, not my name. None of my art... visual, audio, none of it, is signed with my real name. It's all That Brooklyn Bitch."

Rook nods his head in acceptance. "Scraper trying to make it on her own name. I can dig it."

"Hold up. You're Patti Smith's granddaughter. Like THE Patti Smith?" Colson chimes in.

Even though his hand was on her thigh, Luna didn't realize he was listening. "Mhm." She replies.

"That's crazy. I'm reading Just Kids right now. I didn't know they had a kid. I thought he was gay????"

Luna chuckles at his confusion. Smiling she says "Yes, yes he was gay. But yes, they did have a baby. My mom's not in the book upon my request. They had put her up for adoption and only reconnected when I was young, shortly before she died. That's how I ended up with my Mom-mom's last name. She adopted and raised me afterwards."

"Damn Babe, I'm sorry." Colson says putting his arm around her shoulder.

"No need, I'm ok.... As long as you don't ever call me Babe again, you're much more creative than that." She says with a smirk, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek.

"Word. We'll come up with something special." He says with a smile kissing her on the lips. "You ready to party?" he asks as he stands up lifting one of the dozens of shots of Patron that have magically appeared on the table. "To a great night. Great friends, and to an upcoming great year!! Let's get FUCKED up! The only thing I wanna remember from tonight..." he continues, looking down at Luna "is that tonight was the night I finally met Luna Smith, That Brooklyn Fucking Bitch!!!"

Laughing everyone cheers and slams the celebratory shot.

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

To be continued.... Because after dinner is the ride to the birthday party and after the birthday party is the after party.... And exactly what is up with The Girl in the Cheetah Print Coat????

🎉😈 🎉

[redhoodieone]

Don’t Tell Me Part 3

Don’t Tell Me Part 3

A/N: Okay!!! Here is Part 3 to “Don’t Tell Me” and I gotta say…it’s a little darker than I intended for it to be. Of course, I took Tim Drake’s storyline from “Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker.” In this particular story, Tim (as a young fairly new Robin, of course) was kidnapped by the Joker and was tortured mentally and physically for three weeks until Batman found him and saved him. After Tim healed, Bruce believed Tim was fine because after everything that happened, Tim seemed happy and normal. But…as the story goes…maybe Tim never healed and never got over what happened, especially since Tim’s a very emotional person.

But what will the Batfamily have to do now that Tim’s an enemy? Can they save him, or will Tim possibly have the same fate as Joker?

 Warnings: Language, bird killing, betrayal, and more later on.

   Jason didn’t know what to expect when he discovered Y/N was pregnant with his child, let alone what to expect when he would actually become...a father. Father... Jason Todd had a father once, before he became a ruthless crook, and went to prison. Even after, he never returned home. Jason’s mother and himself had more than a rocky relationship between drug addiction, and soon found himself alone on the streets. Which gave poor street rat Jason an opportunity to steal the Bat-mobile’s tires...and the rest is history. Bruce was a good father to him; despite his and Jason’s constant ups and downs. After the longest time of feeling replaced and betrayed, Jason even forgave Bruce and learned to love Tim as a younger brother. But in the end, Jason always considered Bruce his father, and even secretly thought that if he were to become a father, he would hope to be a worthy one as Bruce. But Jason knew he would never admit it out loud. Who would believe Jason had thought once or twice about being married and having children? No one, especially those who knew him as an angry, scarred, and troubled young man. But underneath the hard and difficult armor, Jason had always wished to have his own family at one point in his life. Ha. Family. Family... Jason still couldn’t believe Y/N is pregnant. The thought of a beautiful, wonderful, and kind woman like her carrying his child makes his heart soar and expand, as if finally, he could have the family he’s secretly hoped for most of his life.

He silently hopes Y/N got pregnant the night of his birthday, but he wouldn’t count on it. He admits he knows nothing about how conceiving works besides sex and wouldn’t know how to do the math to figure it out.

If anything, he just remembers how Y/N looked underneath him; with her hair spread out on the pillow, the sweat beading on her forehead, her breasts bouncing, and her kissable lips parted when she tried to breathe but Jason kept knocking the air from her lungs.

The fact that Y/N is even pregnant with Jason’s child makes him want her more.

But Y/N’s pregnancy is a secret to everyone else, except himself of course. Jason knew about her secret doctor’s appointments. But Jason’s questions were answered when he spied on Y/N throwing away her failed birth control.

The sickness, the little bump, and how Y/N keeps to herself just proves she’s different than before. Jason knew he was guilty as Y/N was; even when she didn’t keep up with taking her birth control, he didn’t wear condoms on most of their sexual activities because he wanted to feel her hot, wet, and tight pussy with just his bare cock. And a condom would surely prevent his fantasies and desires with Y/N.

Is it a boy? He would surely convince Y/N to name the little boy after him, since Jason was positive his son would be the spitting image of him (looks and personality, of course) and it would just make sense for a Jason Peter Todd, Jr. Is it a girl? Oh...Jason knew if he were going to have a daughter, he would love her with all his heart and do whatever it takes to protect her and Y/N for the rest of his life. Maybe this is life’s way of forgiving him, for all his sins and mistakes, so Jason can finally have the happy ending he deserves. And maybe...just maybe...Jason can be the man he’s always wanted to be. “Red Hood, you imbecile! Your communicator’s off!” Robin spats, and lands beside Batman, who are now behind Red Hood. “Are you asking to die, Todd?” “Robin...” Batman warns. His voice already deep and low, and his Bat glare already permanent on his face. “No personal names called in costumes.” “Yeah, you little shithead! What the hell do you guys want?” Red Hood snaps and twists his body around to face them. After patrolling for a couple of hours and with only a mugging and some goons stealing from a jewelry store, Jason found himself bored, and sitting next to his favorite gargoyle. He stands, and towers over Robin. “I already did my job around here, and so far, nothing has happened.” Batman growls. Jason knew his attitude and mouth weren’t helping the situation. “Okay fine, what’s going on now?” Red Hood asks as kindly as he could, which isn’t a lot. “The Joker has been missing for three days.” “So, what else is new? Joker’s been missing before, and we find him, kick his ass, and throw him back in fucking Arkham. And when he’s out again, we repeat. How’s this time any different?” Red Hood questions. “No clues. No sightings. No lead. This is different. I don’t know what he has planned this time,” Batman answers grimly. “Usually, Father and Drake always know the Joker’s actions and schemes before he does. This escape seems as if it was calculated before Joker could even thoroughly plan it himself. The escape may have been designed outside of Arkham, from a source who knows every detail of the premises and is well informed with the employee’s schedule to successfully bail him out. The question is, who could have pulled it off?” Robin asks, he hums in questioning. “Names...Robin,” Batman reminds. “Sorry,” Robin mumbles. “It’s a damn habit...” “Look, normally I would have already ranted about how your golden rule of “not killing and justice not vengeance” would have ended this cat and mouse game YEARS ago, but this is not new, Batman. I can’t fucking count how many times you’ve practically allowed Catwoman to walk out of Arkham for a booty call, or how you hand over the bad guys to Arkham for them to escape within one day. What’s so special about this one particular Joker escape?” Red Hood explains, and even lifts his gloved hand to count his fingers to name off a few ideas. “Is he going to blow up Gotham? He’s tried and failed miserably before. Is he going to kidnap Robin to attempt to turn him against you? He’s tried a million times, and it’s only worked once but that was taken care of. Is he planning to Batnap you and propose to you on top of Wayne Enterprises, because of the whole ‘chase me and I can’t live without you’ running joke, while the rest of us are tied up and gagged with bombs strapped to our chests? Maybe...” “Red Hood!” Batman shouts angrily. “Hold on, he might be onto something...” Robin considers it. “What? It’s not like Joker’s tried that yet. It’s just a fucking suggestion, old man,” Red Hood defends himself. Nightwing jumps down into a kneeling position and faces his father and brothers. A somber frown is on his face, and he gives off a negative vibe. Something’s wrong, and the rest know it. “Where’s Red Robin?” Batman asks Nightwing. “I don’t know. He hasn’t been answering his communicator all night. I can’t even get Oracle to trace it,” Nightwing answers truthfully, despite his eyes not meeting anyone’s. He exhales, and finally forces himself to look up to his father. “I...I think something’s wrong with him, Batman.” Batman breathes deeply, and walks closer to Nightwing. “What do you mean, Nightwing?” “This...this isn’t the first time this has happened. Oracle noticed he’s been MIA for a week. He hasn’t been cooperating. He hasn’t been patrolling with anyone,” Nightwing lists off his concerns. “Oh please, Grayson. Drake slacking off is hardly a concern or issue to even be worried about him. Perhaps he’s being too intimate with Y/N. He’s most likely back at the Manor, doing the baby-making process I’ve been reading up on lately. I would like a nephew, and I hope Drake’s sperm cells are sufficient swimmers and impregnate Y/N rather quickly. She has been different lately...perhaps she already is with child,” Damian reveals. “Damian!” Batman growls enraged. Jason felt his heart beat faster than before. Just hearing about Tim trying to be intimate with Y/N makes his blood boil like a volcano. “No, that-that’s not what I’m trying to talk about,” Nightwing sighs, and shakes his head. “I don’t want to say this...but I guess I’m the only one who can tell you the truth.” “Nightwing,” Batman begins and pauses instantly. He fears the worst. Batman knows he would be a fool to think all is well when the world keeps getting darker and shittier every day. “Just tell me the truth.” With one last sigh, Nightwing’s teary eyes look up to Batman’s. “O-Oracle...she has...reason to believe...t-that Tim was the one who released the Joker out.” The air got thicker. The silence between the four men shocked them; and made them question why Tim Drake would help the Joker escape. If anyone knew Bruce Wayne, they would say he’s a loving, protective father of all his children. And if one is being accused of something horrific and questionable, he would defend them until he died. “What did you just say, Dick?” Batman asks, appearing to have not heard Nightwing clearly. “W-we think Tim is responsible for allowing the Joker to escape. Y-you see, Oracle was able to go through Arkham Asylum’s surveillance cameras, and Tim had to be the one to get passed all of them successfully,” Nightwing explains hastily. “So, he’s not even on camera?” “Well, no but-“ “Then you have nothing to prove your accusation. If you have no evidence, then you can’t accuse Tim of doing something as wrong as letting an insane, murderous, criminal out of Arkham,” Batman says angrily. His breathing is uneven, and his temper is about to burst. “Let me just explain it,” Nightwing tries to reason. “No, no I don’t want to listen to your reasons, Dick. H-how dare you accuse Timothy of doing this? If anything, why not accuse Jason or Damian?” Batman yells, unable to keep his rage under control. The brothers stepped back, because Batman’s anger is frightening; even to them growing up. “Why not accuse me? After all, I don’t kill, and when I don’t kill, they’ll just keep escaping, murdering innocent people, and destroy every ounce of happiness I gain for only a short while. Because maybe I did it. Maybe Alfred did it, too.” “Do not bring Pennyworth into this,” Robin threatens. “Just listen to me for a minute. He wasn’t caught on cameras, but couldn’t someone who knows Arkham as well as us have done the job and not get caught? It would have to take a genius to go in undetected, do the job, and get out as if nothing happened? The only problem with this theory is, what would Tim get out of it? Why would he want the Joker out?” Nightwing clarifies his case. Batman stays silent. He turns to face Red Hood and Robin. “He...he wouldn’t, though. He is different. He’s always so aware and sure of everything. Why would he do this?” Batman whispers, mostly to himself. “He never had a bad past; not like the rest of us. I...I always thought he was going to stay good. I thought I would never have to worry about him.” Jason couldn’t believe this. He didn’t want to believe Dick, but something in his gut was telling him to hear him out. Could someone as good as Tim really turn bad? Would Tim happen to know his and Y/N’s secret? Oracle beeps into Nightwing’s communicator. “Go ahead Oracle.” “Nightwing...I-I have some bad news for you. Well, for all of you really. Get online now,” Oracle commands. Red Hood pushes a button inside his helmet where he is watching the screen load the video. Batman and Nightwing look down to their wrists where a screen lights up, that links them online with Oracle and Alfred. A shaky video loads, and it appears someone unknown is recording a brown shoe box, where a dark and reddish bird, a robin to be exact, is lying down dead with its eyes open outside of a nest with two small bird eggs inside. “Well! Isn’t this precious! This robin birdie was a mother,” the voice belongs to Joker. His high screeching laugh made the men silently gasp. The camera moves away from the mother bird and zooms in on the eggs. “Aww...new life. They say in death, live continues on...but not for these unborn children.” The camera then turns around and Joker’s face takes up the entire screen. His dark eyes send shivers down the Batman and Batboy’s bodies. His painted red lips curved up into a deadly smile. “I finally have your attention now, Bats? You’re probably asking yourself, ‘Now why would the Joker attack and brutally kill a bird, who just laid her eggs, and didn’t have the beautiful opportunity to see her children hatch from their little eggs, and take that first breath in this dark, evil, and deadly world I, Joker reign in?’ You know, while I usually take my sick pleasure in torturing your family Bats, or some innocent people I don’t even know or care about. But I must say Bats...even your family can surprise me!” Joker laughs hysterically, before he dramatically frowns. With a hand holding his cheek, his mouth opens wide. “And let’s just say, this wouldn’t all be possible without your third Robin...” Batman growled and shut his eyes tightly. This was too much for him. Red Hood feels his insides burning with rage. No, no there’s no way Joker could know...he thought to himself. Tim wouldn’t do this... “I am beyond surprised Bats! Even I couldn’t have done this all by myself! After all, who would have thought that the second former dead Robin would have knocked up a woman, who is supposedly dating your third Robin? Did you know that, Bats? The so-called damned Prince of Gotham knocked up the Batfamily slut, Y/N Y/LN. Now that’s a mouthful! And now I bet you’re wondering where your faithful and more-than alive Robin is,” Joker says, and turns the camera and it zooms in on Tim Drake, dresses from head to toe in his former Robin costume but painted in exact Joker makeup. “Who would I thought I could manipulate and influence his mind twice? He must not be as sane as you believed, Bats!” Batman’s breathing heavily in panic. When Tim Drake was younger, Joker managed to kidnap him and manipulate him into being Joker’s son. But luckily Batman was able to treat him and stop Joker’s influence from taking over his mind. But maybe Joker is right. Maybe Tim isn’t as sane and good as he once believed. Red Hood watches in complete horror how Tim glances up at the camera and smiles, very similar and terrifying as Joker’s. “Whoever this Robin was...his spirit is destroyed, as I have destroyed the second’s, and even yours, Bats!” Joker cackles. Joker turns the camera once more as he holds up the robin’s eggs to the lens. “Oh, and as for these baby birds? I can’t wait to eat them, just like I can’t wait to eat yours, Red Hoodie!” Joker tosses back the robin’s eggs into his mouth and his teeth breaks apart the poor, unborn birds’ eggshells. The liquid from the eggs, blood, and flesh stick to his teeth, creating a grayish ooze with blood, and his maniac eyes shine as his laugh echoes throughout the tape. “Now, that was very delicious! Those robin eggs were tasty, and I know Red Hoodie’s and Y/N’s will be very tasty too! Isn’t that right, Y/N?” Joker asks, and turns the camera to face Y/N, lying on a dirty, torn up hospital bed, but she appeared to be groggy and unresponsive to her name. “Well, she’s just tired because being pregnant with Red Hood’s baby MUST be exhausting! That kid’ll come out like a cannonball!”

Jason clenched his teeth and fists. He was pissed off; angry and frustration weren’t enough. A sudden strong energy takes over his body. He feels the urge to protect his love, and his child. No matter what. Even if he must kill Joker.

Jason no longer cares about the golden rule. The love of his life and unborn child are in danger, and if he doesn’t find them, he’d lose them both.

He’d even lose Tim…his brother.

“I’ll even eat her egg when she’s just three months along! You know me Bats!” Joker’s laugh ends when the tape ends.

The screens are off when Red Hood notices Batman, Nightwing, and Robin are glaring at him. “We’ll talk more about that at home. Until then, we need to find the Joker, and save Tim and Y/N,” Batman announces, and motions the boys to follow him. “How dangerous could Drake even be? He has the anger and the strength of a toddler,” Robin claims sarcastically. Batman stops, and faces his sons. There is the worry, the anger, the tears in his eyes he can’t fight back anymore. “None of you remember how Tim was back then. You had your own life Dick, the solo career as Nightwing. Jason, you were back into Gotham with your vengeance. And Damian, I didn’t even know you existed. So, none of you were there when Tim was just starting off as my Robin. He was a happy kid, a kid who loved to learn and be the best. But Joker got to him before me. He tortured him for three weeks. Brain washed him. Torment him mentally and physically. Used him as a solider to get back at me. But because of Tim’s natural innocence and happiness, he was made a perfect target. Tim…was and still is an emotional guy. If something were to snap in his head, it would be the end for him. If he wanted to, Tim could have killed hundreds, maybe even thousands, just to hurt me. Tim was and still is the perfect solider, and I’m going to be the one who pays, again,” Batman confesses. “Why would you pay? I’m the one who should be paying for what I’ve done,” Red Hood asks quietly. Batman releases a choked sob. “Because I knew about Tim’s pain...and I never helped him. I didn’t think he’d ever need help.”

“What do you mean?” Nightwing asks. “Did you know this was bound to happen?”

“Yes. I knew it was eventually going to happen. And now that it’s happened…I have to stop him myself.”

Jason knew what Bruce meant, and while Bruce may have a plan, Jason knew he wasn’t going to stand beside him when it comes down to the Joker.

Jason wants nothing more than to put a bullet through the Joker’s skull.

“If he hurts Y/N, the baby, and Tim,” Jason chokes out before he manages to pull himself together. Hot tears are streaming down his cheeks, and he thanks God he has his hood on. “I’m going to kill the Joker. I don’t give a fuck about your golden rule anymore. If you get in my way, I’ll kill you too. If you kill me right after, I’d still not give a shit. Because what’s it going to take for you to realize he’s a fucking monster who’ll keep doing this over and over again until you’re the last one standing? So, how many more people have to die or be crippled for you to see he needs to die? Me?! Barbara?! Tim?! Y/N?! My fucking unborn child?! Or does Alfred, Dick, or Damian have to be the last ones for you to see it?” Jason screams.

Batman exhales. A pained look is on his face, and he looks defeated already.

“Maybe this time…I won’t stop you from doing that…if it needs to be done.”

[crispychrissy]

The Trouble With Witches

Summary: A witch hunt with the Winchesters has some nerdy twists along with an interesting spell. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester Word Count: 3868 Warnings: Extreme nerdy stuff, canon SPN violence, a bit of naughty flirty talk, and bunnies (they need a warning, you’ll see why).  A/N: This is for @percywinchester27‘s PJO Quotes Challenge! My quote was “We'll have to work on your bunny phobia later.” and it’s highlighted in bold in the fic. Honestly, this is pretty much a borderline crack fic and had me laughing pretty hard. It has some Star Trek references in it, so if you don’t understand, please Google them. This was beta’d by the lovely and now very giggly @queen-of-deans-booty. Any feedback would be appreciated! Enjoy!

“Come on, we need to get moving, Thumper,” Dean grumbled from down the hall in the bunker.

You didn’t particularly like the nickname he gave you, but you were just naturally jumpy like a rabbit, so it stuck. Well, it mostly stuck after the first time he scared you and you punched him square in the nose before jumping around while you panicked. He always told you that the moment you punched him was the moment he fell in love with you. Such a romantic, that Dean Winchester.

Life hadn’t always been this peachy. The brothers took you in after your family was killed in a car accident. It turns out that your dad’s business partner had made a deal with a demon to have your father killed so he could take over the company. When his partner found out that the company was left to you in the will, the demon came after you next. Luckily, Sam and Dean were there and saved you before the demon was able to kill you.

So here you were, almost a year later and you were happy. You had Dean as your amazing boyfriend and Sam as your best friend, and you wouldn’t trade it for the world. You fell hard and fast for the green-eyed freckled Winchester, and who could blame you? He was basically pure sex appeal on bowlegs, but he was also the kindest man you’d ever met.

You hauled your overstuffed duffel bag over your shoulder and trotted out of your shared room with Dean down the hallway to the garage. Dean let out a quick breath of air when you climbed up the stairs into the garage and took your bag from you.

“You do realize it’s just going to be a simple witch kill,” he shook your bag, “you didn’t have to pack your entire wardrobe.”

“That’s not my entire wardrobe, Hedgehog. I doubt we could fit even half of it in Baby,” you said, laughing at Dean’s eye roll at your nickname for him. Ever since you came into your bedroom and saw Dean, who was fresh out of the shower and eating a whole cherry pie that was sitting on his stomach, you started calling him Hedgehog. The wet spiked hair and him enjoying fruit while lying on his back… it fit him too perfectly.

Dean slammed the trunk closed and you and the Winchesters all climbed into the Impala, heading straight to this witch case that Sam had found only a state over in Colorado. The article Sam had found said that several people had died in this town due to choking. On hairballs. Sam had already had it narrowed down to a few people in town that had a connection to all the victims, so it should be a relatively easy case.

The five-hour drive passed pretty quickly thanks to the epic trivia battles you had with Sam. You downloaded a trivia app, similar to Jeopardy, and went head to head with him. You pretty much dominated him in the science, technology, and biology fields, but he was pretty quick with his knowledge of history and math. You ended up winning overall but Sam had already challenged you to a rematch on the way back right as you pulled into the motel.

“Come on, Sam. How can anyone remember the quadratic formula? I only know it begins with negative B, but I can’t remember anything from high school. How do you remember that? Weren’t you studying to be a lawyer?” You playfully bumped his shoulder as you walked to the trunk and pulled your bag out, waiting for Dean to get the room key from the front office.

“I was pre-law, but those damn songs they used to make you learn the formula…it just stuck with me,” he said, shrugging and smiling. “You’re gonna go down on the way back, though.”

“Bring it, Sam! I’ll just school you in anatomy again,” you smiled, putting your hands on your hips.

“The only anatomy you need to study is mine, baby,” Dean purred in your ear as he came up behind you and linked his arm through yours, walking toward the motel room.

You jumped when he linked his arm, but quickly turned around and pressed a quick kiss to Dean’s lips. You pulled away, only to have his grip on your arm tighten and pull you back to him so he could kiss you properly.

“Guys, come on,” Sam groaned from behind you.

Dean smiled against your lips and pulled away, shooting you a wink before walking ahead of you to room number nine. He unlocked the door and you all piled in, ready to research the case. You didn’t mind having to share a room with the boys, but another room occasionally didn’t seem too bad when you wanted to have alone time with Dean. For as loud as he snored, Sam was a very light sleeper, so you and Dean had to behave when you were all in the same motel room.

Sam already had his laptop open and was pulling up more information about the cases from the medical examiners reports. Dean pulled three beers out from the cooler and popped the tops off before handing them out to you and Sam. You saw the telltale furrowing of Sam’s brow and you knew he found something.

“So, get this…” you began, right before Sam was going to speak.

He glared at you and sighed in disapproval, causing you and Dean to giggle.

“So,” he paused, narrowing his eyes at you, “the hair in the victim’s throats was all rabbit fur.”

“Rabbits?” You asked again, raising an eyebrow.

“Rabbits,” he confirmed. “The report says that there was no evidence of irritation or scratches on the esophagus of any of the victims, so the hairballs weren’t forced down manually.”

“Death by rabbit,” Dean snorted and took a sip of his beer, “that’s pretty unlucky.”

You and Sam both rolled your eyes and shook your heads in unison.

“We can split up and each take a crime scene. There has to be hex bags if we’re dealing with a witch. I don’t see any strange bags logged into evidence for any of the cases, so they’re probably still at the crime scenes. Three of us, three crime scenes. Let’s go,” Sam stood up from his chair and pulled on his suit jacket. You were all already dressed in your Fed threads, so all Dean would need to do is drop you off at your respective crime scenes so you could search.

For the next four hours, that is exactly what you did. Sam found his hex bag first, shoved into the corner of the sofa in the living room. Dean was next, finding it in the night stand next to the victim’s bed, and you were last to find yours. Yours was shoved into the entertainment center behind a stack of DVD’s. This witch was getting better at hiding the hex bags, and you were thankful you decided to search behind them.

Dean came by with Sam already riding shotgun and picked you up so you could head back to the motel and research the type of magic. You had witch killing bullets all ready, but it was always nice to know if you were going to be walking into something, or rather someone, more powerful than a normal witch. After quick pit stop for burgers, you were all back in the motel and buried in books and laptops.

“Hey guys?” You had noticed something at your crime scene and wanted to see if the boys saw it, too. They both grunted in acknowledgement.

“Did either of your victim’s own pets?” you asked, pulling out a small card from the inside pocket of your blazer.

“Mine had a cat named Kirk,” Sam responded, looking up at you and arching a brow.

“I’m glad you took that house, then. Mine had a dog, don’t remember its name though.” Dean added.

“Huh. Mine had a cage for something, not sure if it was a bird or rabbit…but I did find a business card for a local pet store on their fridge. The symbol on the card looks so familiar.” You handed the card to Sam, watching his expression change from confusion to recognition as he looked it over.

“This…this symbol is a Witch’s Knot. It was used in the middle ages to identify witchcraft. Nice find, Y/N.” Sam passed the card to Dean. “I think we found our witch.”

Dean studied the card and nodded. “She’s got a connection to all three victims because they all had pets. How many pet stores could there be in this tiny ass town?”

“Not to mention it would give her access to the ingredients she would need to perform this kind of magic. And the furballs of course,” you added, standing from your chair and stretching your back while you yawned.

It was already after nine at night, and you knew the boys wouldn’t want to wait until morning to take on the witch. The risk to another innocent life is too high. The killings were spread weeks apart, but all three of you noticed that they were getting closer and closer together.

“Let’s head out. I pulled up the address on Google and it looks like she lives in the apartment over the shop,” Sam said, standing up from his chair and undoing the buttons to his dress shirt. He grabbed a flannel and pair of jeans before stepping inside the bathroom and closing the door.

“Would you like some assistance undressing, Mr. Winchester?” You purred, stalking closer to where Dean was sitting on the bed.

“Mmm. Why yes I would, Ms. Y/L/N,” he purred right back at you as you reached for his belt.

“You guys do know I can hear you, right? I’m coming out in sixty seconds, so you two better be changed and ready to go,” Sam spoke from inside the bathroom.

“I’m so glad you are finally coming out, Sam. I think we all knew for a while because of the hair, but I’m so proud of you Sammy.” Dean could barely hold in his laugh as you two quietly giggled and stripped out of your Fed threads.

“I’m not gay, Dean. But from what Y/N has drunkenly let slip about your sex life, I think tha-”

“WHOA. Okay, stop right there.” Dean glared at you and you just shrugged in response, shooting him a playful wink.

You could hear Sam’s booming, yet muffled laughter coming from inside the bathroom as you slipped your flannel on. You loved the two of them so much. Sam was like a brother to you and knew you could play around with him like you were his sister. You could mess around with him just as much as he could with you.

Sam slowly opened the door to the bathroom and peaked his head out right as Dean finished buckling his belt. He smiled that you were all fully clothed and stepped out into the room to grab his phone. He tapped a few times, putting in the address of the pet store, and pulled on his jacket

‘Let’s head out,” Sam said, popping the clip out of his pistol to check which bullets he had inside. You and Dean mirrored his actions, satisfied that all three of you had enough firepower to take out several covens.

The drive to the pet store only took ten minutes, but you were nervously chewing at your lower lip the entire drive. Something didn’t feel right about this witch and the odd way she was killing people. You swallowed your reservations right as Dean pulled up to the curb outside the pet shop. The lights were on in the upstairs apartment, so someone was home.

Once all three of you had gotten out of the car and stowed your pistols in your respective waistbands, there was a bright flash of red that came from a window upstairs in the apartment. You all exchanged looks for a moment before running toward the front door of the store. Sam already had his lockpick unzipped and began picking the lock.

“Come on, Sam. She’s doing a spell right now,” you whispered as Sam fumbled with the lock.

“Not helping, Y/N,” Sam grunted a few seconds before the lock disengaged with a muffled click.

Dean brushed past you both and pushed the door open, cautiously sweeping left and right with his pistol raised. You and Sam followed shortly after him, pulling your pistols out as well. Dean pointed toward the far back corner of the storefront to a set of stairs that led up. Nodding, you followed behind Sam and headed back toward the stairs.

Dean stopped when he reached the top of the stairs, waiting for you and Sam to catch up. He nodded toward the door at the end of the hall that was already slightly open. Dean led the way and pushed the door open. All the lights were on inside the apartment and Dean stopped in his tracks a few feet inside. You and Sam were right behind him and almost bumped into Dean when he stopped. You were about to ask him why he stopped when you looked around the living room of this apartment.

“Holy Star Trek,” you whispered, mouth still agape. The entire apartment was covered in Star Trek posters, models, and various props. There were autographed posters of the original Star Trek with William Shatner, small models and figurines of the cast from The Next Generation, and several props from other Star Trek spin offs.

“Are you in nerd heaven, Sam?” Dean asked, nudging his brother with his elbow.

“No, Dean. This is a little too obsessive for my taste. Jeeze, everything in here is Star Trek themed,” Sam said, carefully making his way into the middle of the living room.

He wasn’t kidding. There were several shelves covered in large pieces of Star Trek memorabilia, including a cardboard cutout of Riker sitting in the corner. Even the pillows on the couch and the remote for the television was Star Trek themed.

“Spread out, we need to kill her before she kills someone again,” Dean said, pointing you toward the bedroom and pointing Sam toward the kitchen.

The bedroom also matched the Star Trek theme of the living room, including a Star Trek bedspread and a Bat'leth on a shelf in the corner. Pretty much the only thing in the room that was not Star Trek themed was the altar covered in various spell ingredients at the foot of the bed. There was still smoke rising from the metal bowl, meaning a spell was just completed.

You made your way over to the closet as you finished out your sweep of the bedroom. The moment you opened the door, you were immediately stumbled backwards, tackled by approximately thirty small and fluffy rabbits pouring out of the closet and into the bedroom. You couldn’t help the shriek that came out of your mouth as the furry sea of bunnies quickly overtook you.

Dean and Sam ran into the room, guns raised, sweeping back and forth to help you with whatever threat caused you to scream. The moment they saw the plethora of rabbits that were surrounding you, both Dean and Sam began to chuckle.

“It’s not funny, guys! They scared the crap out of me,” you grumbled back, which only made Sam laugh harder.

“We'll have to work on your bunny phobia later,” Dean said between giggles, “but at least we know where she got all the rabbit fur from.”

You shook your head at the two brothers and gently nudged a rabbit away from your leg with your foot. You could hear a few of them were eating something in the closet and it seemed like more and more rabbits were pouring out onto the floor. You were a pretty big Star Trek fan yourself, and it only took you a moment to recognize what was happening.

“Tribbles!” You yelled, earning confused looks from both the boys. Sam glanced at the closet, then back to you, and his eyes widened.

“Come again?” Dean asked, glancing at you and then to his brother.

“They’re this little furball things from the original series of Star Trek. They reproduce in a very short time when they’re fed. I think this witch did a spell that made the rabbits have the same reproduction behavior as Tribbles from the show,” you explained to Dean.

“Yeah, I remember that episode. They started with like ten of them and by the time a day passed there was thousands,” Sam added, making his way over to you.

You nodded and gestured toward the altar. “The spell was still smoking when I got here, so we may be able to reverse it if we can find her spell book. Help me look before we’re drowning in rabbits.”

The next five minutes, all three of you frantically pulled apart the bedroom trying to find the spell book. Finally, Dean pulled the spell book out from under the mattress and tossed it over to you. You loved research, and the extensive studying you did on spell reversal and neutralizations in the Men of Letters library was definitely going to come in handy for this.

Luckily it was a simple duplication spell and not some crazy reproduction curse. Reproduction spells were much more complicated and required a lot more ingredients than what the witch had laid out on the altar. You quickly found the spell she used in the book and began tossing ingredients into the bowl. The amount of rabbits had continued to grow, and it was starting to be difficult to walk.

“Dean, go to the kitchen and see if she has any cinnamon. There’s none left in this dish,” you said as you handed Dean the empty bowl. He disappeared from the room and you glanced down at Sam, who was now sitting on the floor with four rabbits in his arms and several more in his lap.

“Really, Sam?”

He looked up at you with a dopey grin on his face, “What? They’re cute. It’s not like there’s anything I can do to help you. Might as well enjoy it before they disappear.”

You rolled your eyes at him right when Dean came back into the room with some cinnamon in the dish.

He waded through the swamp of rabbits to reach over and hand you the bowl. “Got it. Do you need anything…” Dean glanced around the room at eye level and furrowed his brow. “Wait, where’s Sam?”

You looked down at Sam who was now practically swimming in rabbits. The amount of rabbits that had spawned had to be in the high hundreds and the ones that didn’t spill out into the hallway were still inside the bedroom. Even Sam, as tall as he was, had rabbits up to his mid-chest, while you were surrounded by a sea that reached a little above your knee. It was only a matter of time before the rabbit level reached critical and overtook the altar, so you had to move quickly.

You added a few pinches of cinnamon to the mixture in the bowl and chanted in Latin. “Vicissim amoris, mutationem fortunae. Eaque omnia redire consistere rectum.”

The room was immediately filled with the same bright red glow that you saw from outside, forcing you close your eyes. It felt like something whooshed past you and you could feel no more resistance or fur on pressing on your legs. You slowly opened one eye and looked around. There was only one rabbit remaining, and it was currently curled into a ball in Sam’s lap

“Everyone okay?” You asked, opening your eyes completely and looking around.

“Yeah.” Both Sam and Dean said at the same time.

You exhaled sharply and put your hands on your hips. “Well then. I think I can check ‘be swarmed by hundreds of rabbits’ off my bucket list.”

Dean ran over and scooped you up in his arms, pulling you into a quick kiss. “I’m so proud of you. I think you’re a bigger nerd than Sammy.”

“Possibly. But at least I’m not on the nerd level of this witch.” You smiled and pecked him on the lips again.

“Speaking of the witch, where did she go?” Sam said as he stood up, still with the rabbit in his arms.

As if on cue, the witch walked into the apartment whistling. You recognized the song immediately as from the episode ‘The Inner Light’ from The Next Generation, one of your favorites of all time. All three of you grabbed your pistols and darted out to the living room.

She looked up in shock. “How are you still alive?! You should have suffocated by now!”

“We have someone nerdier than you,” Dean said before he shot the witch square in the chest. She shrieked and slumped to the ground.

“Grab her body and let’s get out of here,” Sam said as he walked over to her body and scooped it up, bridal style, in his arms.

Dean began walking over to his brother and stopped when you didn’t follow right away. He turned and cocked his head. “You okay, sweetheart?”

You smiled and nodded. “Yeah, give me a second, I’ll be right down.”

A few minutes later you arrived at the car with your hand behind your back. Dean opened the trunk to swap out his witch killing bullets and, the second he opened the bottom to reveal the various weapons, you plopped the Bat'leth from the witch’s apartment on top of the set of machetes.

“What the hell is that? Is that from her apartment?” Dean asked.

“It’s a Bat'leth. And yes. Not like she’s going to be using it anymore.” You grinned.

Dean smiled and kissed your temple. “My adorable nerdy Thumper.”

You giggled and patted Dean lightly on the ass before hopping into the back of the Impala. After burying the body, you all returned to the motel room to pack. Having been with the boys for so long, you were all packed and on your way back to the bunker within ten minutes. You kicked Sam’s ass again in trivia, much to his displeasure, and you arrived back to the bunker just as the sun was coming up.

You threw your duffle bag on the bed in your shared bedroom with Dean and began to unpack. Your stomach grumbled and you ceased unpacking in favor of a snack. Walking into the kitchen, you smiled at Dean who was already making you both a sandwich.

“My hero Hedgehog,” you said, ruffling his hair before stacking your sandwich on top of his on his plate. You started walking back toward your room when Dean spoke up.

“Hey! My sandwich!”

You walked back over to him and grabbed his hand. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“To boldly go where no man has gone before.” You winked at him and turned, leaving the kitchen.

“Is that a kinky thing?” Dean yelled before running through the kitchen to follow you.

Tagging some friends! @katymacsupernatural @sofreddie @just-another-busy-fangirl @kittenofdoomage

[jakeallison96]

Ex Back Law Of Attraction Success Dumbfounding Diy Ideas

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My Ex Came Running Back

[sisters-of-sin-blog]

Drunk Chocobro HC’s

Brought to you today by SayaSin.

My sister and I wondered what the hell the guys would be like drunk off their pretty little asses and well, that put a fire under my booty to let the world know!

Noctis: [The Loud One]

First and foremost, Noct is terrible at holding his liquor so things get pretty interesting pretty quickly - holy hell this kid. You know the kind of people who drink to look cool but need to make sure you see and hear them do it? Meet Noctis; the epitome of “Listen to me, I’m fucking cool!” For some reason if he can’t hear himself he believes you can’t hear him. Trying to hold a conversation? Negative. You’ll end up with the chopped and screwed version of whatever topic you where trying to elaborate on because he cuts in every 5 seconds with slurred responses about 10 octaves above normal human decibels. Trying to hold a conversation with someone else? Negative. He’ll be across the room singing the song of his people just to make sure you and everyone else remembers his princely ass. This usually ends with either one of the boys cupping a hand over his mouth for the rest of the night to shut him up. Goes missing quite often. Can usually found passed out on the couch nearest the bathroom or in a corner with a sign on his back reading "If found, return to Ignis"

Bonus: Prone to alcohol sickness – Intensive cuddles needed.

Ignis: [The Talkative One]

Tends to pass up drinks when out for a night of debauchery since he likes to keep an eye on everyone (mom does what mom wants) HOWEVER when he does give in to peer pressure from his wonderful friends, prepare your ears because the ever so stoic Ignis goes off on tangents when he’s submerged into the depths of the bottle! His conversation is completely intellectual and enlightening. Or at least it would be if you could understand a single word the man is saying. Ignis is fluent in drunken gibberish. In his mind, it comes out clear as day, but to unsuspecting victims, “Pardon?” and “What the fuck is he saying” are significant responses you’ll become pro at in no time! Not out with the guys? Get ready for a slew of drunken texts. It’s true what they say about alcohol being the ‘Truth serum’ but the texts are just half the fun. It’s the look on his face after you ask him about them that really rustles his jimmies and has you desperately trying to hold in laughter.

“I…I never should have indulged in Ifrit’s nectar.” Let the intense blushing commence!

Bonus: A very flustered Ignis.

Prompto: [The Overconfident One]

He can hold his own, that is, until he can’t. As the night progresses the show begins! Here we see our sweet, energetic and ever so shy ball of sunshine casually sipping away.. –record scratch- WRONG.  Sure his sweet demeanor (if that’s what you wanna call it) and energetic mannerisms remain but that shyness gets an instant boot out the door! When the liquor flows, his confidence grows. Literally. He floats around to everyone. Will dance with anyone. Will have a drink with anyone. Want him to do shots? He’s the first to to ask “From a glass or my belly button?” Want him to strip? Hope the bar top is scuff proof! Prompto is also VERY persuasive in this state. He’ll make you want to have that last drink with him. He’ll turn on a few sultry words you didn’t know he had the brainpower to pronounce let alone use in the correct context! One minute you’re telling everyone your goodbyes for the evening, the next you’re out on the dance floor for ‘One last dance’, hips gyrating in ways you never thought possible against the blue-eyed tyrant.

Bonus: He gets VERY touchy.

Gladio: [The Emotional/Dramatic One]

It takes a while for him to get to this point but ho boy, lucky you! Out with the guys having a grand ole time, only to be interrupted by a toast to you 4 at the table. Okay cool, no big deal. Gladio says a few words of praise for his fellow companions. All is well in the kingdom. NOT.  After a couple more bottles, the big guy does another…and another…before eventually you find your shoulder has turned into the man’s tissue.  This is a routine and there’s no end to it until the big teddy bear blacks out.  The “I love you guys!” or “You guys are the greatest. I’m so fucking lucky” declarations come out in waves and yes, he ugly cries, holy six. First time this happened, you couldn’t believe your eyes.  This stone wall of a man turns to jelly right in front of you and no one says a thing as if the most normal bout of behavior ever! Following the episodes of tears comes the overdramatic reactions to any and everything. And I mean EVERYTHING. Spilled your drink? “OMG okay DON’T panic, I’ll get you another!” Someone bumps into you by mistake? “WHO THE FUCK DID IT?!” Ignis says it’s time to head out “4AM IS NOT LATE. DAMN YOU’RE ALWAYS RUININ’ THE FUN” (followed by angrily storming out, also followed by Ignis rolling his eyes so hard he can see the new recipe he came up with earlier that day) Yup, some weird big brother/toddler trope that leaves you shaking your head by the end of the night.

Bonus: Has a thing for kissing you four on the cheek.

[badlydrawnstuff]

Labry AU, part 7. \o/

It had been days since Labry was last seen. Most of Hell’s inhabitants did not care- He was probably up on the surface, or dead. It didn’t matter.

The three that did care were perched on the roof of the old hospital.

“Should we really check?” Cherry asked her sisters, looking down at the entrance. “I don’t want to end up--”

She was cut off by Sherry, who was grinning. “Fight him? Yeah, me neither. I just wanna grab his ass again! He’s got such a great butt.” Wyne sighed, and Cherry put her head in her hands. Wyne turned, and leaned around Cherry to punch Sherry. “We’re gonna darn check on him, whether ya’ll like it or not! It ain’t like we’re booty calls for a gay man!”

They discussed the matter an hour more before finally voting 2-1 on going in. “If I can’t grab his butt, what’s the point?” was Sherry’s only defense- Which was ignored by both Cherry and Wyne. The two glided down to the entrance and promptly went in, leaving Sherry alone. With a shout of surprise, Sherry hurried after them.

-

Cherry was not amused. Having been the only one to find the stairs, she tried to lead her sisters by voice alone. Unfortunately, they were hopelessly lost, and Cherry went on without them. They’d be fine.

Finding Labry himself- if he was actually here- turned out to be a difficult task for Cherry. She had checked half the hallway so far, with no signs of life. She’d called his name out, as well, to no avail. He’d usually meet visitors with a threatening glare and choice words, not silence.

“I don’t think he’s here, ladies!” Cherry called out, her voice echoing down the hall. From the other end, which Cherry hadn’t checked, came Wyne’s voice.

“Then who’s this fella I’ve come across?” Ah. Wyne had found him.

Bumping the door open a bit wider, she found Wyne seated on Labry’s lap. Labry himself was sitting cross legged on the floor, his gaze locked onto the floor. “We’ve got a sad lookin’ cowboy tonight, Cherry.” Wyne pointed out, lightly prodding Labry’s face. He didn’t move, merely glancing at her. True to her statement, he did seem down.

“What’s wrong, Labry? Do you finally need to get laid?” Cherry joked, seating herself to his right.

“No.”

Just no? Cherry raised her eyebrows and tilted her head, gazing at him. Sure, he was cute, but that wasn’t why she was staring. Sherry, having finally caught up, quickly sat on Labry’s left and placed her hand on his rear. He only looked at her, not even bothering to stop her.

Sherry quickly caught onto Labry’s mood, and moved her hand to his shoulder. “Talk to us, soldier! You look sad.”

Labry was uncharacteristically quiet. He looked around the room, an unsure expression settling on his face. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, if not a tad hoarse.

“Who was I to you three before I lived down here?”

Only Wyne responded. “You were our pal, cowboy! We’d stop n’ chat with ya whenever we’d see ya!” Labry nodded, before asking a new question.

“Was I like how I am now?”

Wyne was unsure how to respond. Taking up the speaking mantle was Cherry, who shook her head. “If you mean sad, definitely not. If you mean being loud and violent, only the first one! Your bark was way louder than your bite.”

Again Labry nodded, thinking about this answer. Sherry decided to raid a nearby duffel bag. Both Cherry and Wyne ignored her.

-

“Are you trying to remember stuff?” Wyne finally inquired after a period of silence. Labry grunted and nodded, possibly looking sadder than before.

Again, they sat in silence, the only sounds being their breathing and Sherry rustling through the bag. They sat like this for a couple of moments, before the quiet was shattered by Sherry triumphantly yelling “I found it!”

“Found what?” was quickly asked by both Cherry and Wyne, to which Sherry held up a dust covered cell phone. “I thought it might have something on it!”

Cherry smiled while Wyne took the phone and brushed it off. “You’re good for something after all, sister!” Sherry pouted, whining that she was great for all sorts of things. Not bothering to respond, Wyne handed the phone to Labry.

Labry looked at it like he had been handed a foreign object. The slightly scratched screen, the colorful cover, the charms- They all seemed unfamiliar to him. He only stared at it, until Wyne gently took it from him, and turned the power on. “Might be a tad better if it’s on, cowboy.”

Labry found himself staring at the background- a photo. He swiped the apps out of the way, curious. The background contained five angels, most of which he barely recognized.

In the middle, a purple angel, a wide grin on his face. He was presumably holding the phone to take the picture. His other hand was pulling on a blue angels mouth, to make it seem like he was smiling. This blue angel, Labry recognized.

On the shoulders of the purple angel, a white angel rested. Labry recognized this one for sure- Merkabah. He’d met Labry the previous week. His gaze next went to a green angel, looking directly at the camera. Labry squinted- He’d attacked this angel multiple times. Tearing his eyes away from her, he looked at the last angel in the shot- a red angel that was looking down at the others. Labry faintly recognized this angel, too. He’d killed this one in combat.

Thinking about them, his heart tightened. Had they been important to him? The blue angel certainly had, with how Labry felt sadder just looking at him.

Labry would have been perfectly content staring at the home screen background, if not for Sherry urging him to check the photo gallery. Opening it warily, Labry was met with well over one thousand pictures to look through. “Good fricken’ luck, cowboy,” Wyne mumbled, looking almost offended at the gallery’s size.

They spent well over an hour looking through the photos and discussing them- At least, the succubi did. Labry was still strangely quiet, rathering to simply observe. The gallery was full of other angels, or pictures of the purple angel in front of things.

Finally reaching the end, they found a picture that told Labry what he wanted to know- If this phone was really his. It was a picture of Labry, when his feathers had still been falling out. He’d snuck the picture in a mirror when he’d been dragged clothes shopping by the succubi.

“That’s me...” Labry muttered, earning the surprise of the succubi. “You can speak?” Cherry teasingly asked, lightly prodding him again. “Yeah, that’s you. You know what else is you?” Eyebrows raised, Labry replied in the negative. Cherry leaned over and started the gallery over again, showing the first picture- One of the purple angel with a brown angel child, both smiling widely.

“The purple angel is you, cowboy!” Wyne announced, pointing at it.

Labry nearly dropped the phone in shock, something inside him shattering to pieces- His heart, perhaps? Sherry patted Labry’s shoulder, watching his face. “If we’re gonna talk about the old you, we’re gonna use your name! You’re still Raphael to us!”

Labry stared, mouthing the name. “That was my name? Raphael..?” It sounded strangely right to Labry, despite not recognizing it.They discussed this for a few more minutes, before Cherry noticed the time and panicked. They had jobs to get to! The succubi hurried out, saying rushed good-byes and good lucks, leaving Labry alone again. He looked down at the phone, his shoulders drooping. Just how much had he changed?

[darker--serenity-blog]

Best Balance

PART ONE

I stood in front of my bathroom mirror, hair clung to my face on all sides, and if I was lucky enough, they wouldn't curl.

My reflection was blurred because of the condensation from my shower and I was actually glad. It's not that I didn't want to see my face I just didn't want to be bothered by it. I wrapped the towel around me and took in a deep breath, my mind couldn't stop thinking 17 days ahead of me.

Almost two years ago..

I shook my head, not wanting to think about it, if I kept pushing myself into the past I wasn't going to be able to move on and get better.

My neck slightly burned as if a scar would rip through my skin and I shuddered. I took one last look at the blurred image in the mirror before deciding to push it back again.

 I walked into my bedroom and carelessly threw my towel on the bed, with a few choice looks, I decided on being lazy by changing into my sweats. I didn't want to be bothered by the day, or by anything really. I fell onto my bed and looked up at the ceiling, it seemed miles away and my breath caught. Am I having a dream?

 No.

 I rolled onto my side and stared at the nightstand beside my bed, on top rested, my diary, a few books I'd stolen from the witches and my phone, which I oddly haven't touched in a few days, apart from small things. I didn't find myself pulled to it like I normally am.

"I'm concerned for you." I say out loud, and frown. Why did I say that?

"Because I am." I nod in agreement with myself and sit up.  Am I depressed?

No. I am not depressed, I'm overthinking, and over feeling. Witches wrote about vampires all to wrong.

'Creatures that hold no emotion.'- I think I cried over a bagel the other day.

/Aaaaaaaannnnyway/ I moved my phone from the stack and set it beside me before grabbing the first book, it was a study on vampires written by a coven member back when the originals first moved here..

So most of it was shitty-ass-information that Kol probably told them. I flung it to the other side of my phone and grabbed the next book, my diary.

I flipped it open, reading the last entry

Jan. 29. 2014

"Dear.. Diary, Ow. My feelings on paper huh? I don’t like it. Well, I do, but sometimes I won’t… For the last year, my life has gone from being a normal teenage girl, in school, having fun, to becoming a witch in the Harcest, to being the last Harvest survivor, to having all the magic over power me, to my crush dieing, to me dieing, digging my way out of my grave and being a vampire… An eternal 15"-

wasn't  I sixteen?

-" year old.. I can’t feel nature anymore… Rebekah shouldn’t have done this, but then again, if not, I’d be dead… What’s better for now? Everything is louder now. Sometimes that’s a good thing, and other times, it sucks. I’m staying with Lucian. In Kit’s room, that I’m tempted to just completely take over, I’ve gotten some memory back that I didn’t know I lost. Hmm. I’m tired… I should get some sleep. Well, now that I’ve gotten all the negative things off, soon, I will be writing stories of my happy days. But that will wait."

I shake my head and turn the page, picking a pen out of the drawer in front of me, I sit back and pull my legs up as a make shift desk.

"Dear Diary..

I want to write about happiness, and sunshine and rainbows.

I should. I've had a lot of good things happen to me since January of 14'. I've been thinking about my life to much lately, my old life? Piano lessons, Tim, even Monique.. that's a touchy subject right now.

I miss it. I don't know why.. I hated it really.

Things have changed I guess, even feelings have changed. I can't help but over feel, and I don't like it. I feel like.. an emotional brat that complains to much, even if I won't complain.

My magic is waving, I don't know a better way to describe it. I get hit by waves of it so hard I have to sit down, or sit on my hands. Then immediately, I have to get  a blood bag..

I should just let Kit work with me on humans,-"

I look up from my diary and freeze, starring at the pile of paintings I'd been working on recently, behind the 'acceptable to look at ones' lied the one that I painted with slight frustration. It was an image I couldn't get out of my mind. Injected by a hateful group of dead witches who wanted me to remember it.. I set my diary down, open still on the page I was using and flashed to the other side of my room.

It was a hesitant movement, and very shaky as I moved paintings and boring drawings aside. She was a tall painting, almost to my shoulders, and honestly, I'm pissed I painted it.

 I stared at the painting for at least twenty minutes before I could even move. I let out an angry scream and slammed my hands through it, grabbing the eyes and ripping down, shredding the thick canvas without so much as a grunt  of effort, I tore each piece off and ripped until I was covered in two inch pieces, some black or red, but most the bad dull white.

It was me and I couldn't rip it apart enough.

I never wanted to be a witch.

I didn't want to be a vampire.

They cursed me with both.

I blinked my vision back into focus with an angry stream of tears as I looked around my recently cleaned room, the canvas was everywhere. I couldn't even force myself to move. I was exhausted. I always slept, but never got rest.

I stared at the painting behind the now destroyed wooden frame, and a small part of me felt okay.  The lion stared back with dark eyes and I smiled. I stood up quickly, filled with a small amount of energy. It was weird. I moved back to the bed and sat down, grabbing my diary and continuing.

-"That's not happening. I'm not ready for it.

I need to figure things out first, or maybe I just don't 'want' to be ready for it. I need to figure out the whole 'magic is also food' thing.

I wish /anyone/ knew more about witchypires. I wish I knew more about what I was.

I kind of feel.. like an outcast, and it's kind of a stupid feeling."

Maybe the ancestors know something?

No.

We aren't talking to them. That is a very bad idea. Very bad.

But what if they do..

I growl and slam my diary shut, rising to my feet in an instant.

I move to my closet and cringe. I don't feel like wearing anything. My eyes glide back to my bed, I could crawl into it.. and sleep.

My head turns back to my closet so fast I get slapped a little bit by my hair and grin.

Red suit jacket, black tank-top.

Maybe some leggings.

Definitely black booties. Gotta mean business.

Mean some mean business.

Sneaking out won't be an option, but I can easily walk out, make it less suspicious.

I'm horrible at it.

I push open my bedroom door and listen quietly. I could pin point almost everyone's location.. except..

I bumped back into my room with a small grin, "Where are you going dressed like that?" Diego took me off guard and for a moment I stammered. Why is his hair so fluffy- focus Davina.

"I'm going out." I nod. Technically it wasn't a lie. I was going out.

He places his hand on his chest and looks hurt for a second. "Is it a guy? Is that why you were trying to figure out if was clear?"

I shake my head softly and chuckle. No. Guys think I'm literally string cheese.

"No. I just want to go... for a walk."

3.2.1-

"You're lying." His demeanor changes and he crosses his arms. "Why? Don't trust me?" I wanted to just vanish.

There's a small list of people I can't lie to.

1.Marcel.

2. Kit.

3 Dreamy eye- Diego.

"Just.. don't tell anyone." I plea softly, slamming my hands into a begging form, along with some trademark witchypire eyes.

"Vina." His voice was hard. Ugh. I don't have time for this. I need to go. Get it over with already.

"Sorry.." I whisper before flicking my hand and throwing him across my room, he lands effortlessly on my bed, asleep.

It's lowkey something I wish I could see- GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF WOMAN.

I quickly rush out of my room and down the stairs, I just need to clear the front door...

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 PART TWO IS NEXT.