#I actually meant to save money for now and that was like half of what I had left

[acridid-s]

So, unfortunately, I am not only too stupid to install Linux, a few important apps (mainly Affinity Photo) are not compatible with it, so I will have to continue using Windows for a while. At least I know a techbro (not derogatory) who knows ways around all the shit I don't want and there are multiple, ever-updating tutorials on how to disable or trick the system into altogether removing all the AI shit. I also bought the oldest possible PC model they had (it was the successor model to the PC I've had for nearly 7 years, but the employee said it was THE "weakest" model they had- which by today's standards still means that it is MORE than usable), so this one might not even have at least some of the shit I don't want.

[homunculus-argument]

My usual problem of "and then some other shit happens" is that they keep piling up on top of each other. This morning, I was just about to start work when

mail comes in. I've received a letter from the tax office.

I open the letter and get a Fuck No Way That's Right kinda bill.

time to hit up my accountant and ask what the fuck do I do now

realise that I haven't delivered my accounting stuff for like four months either, gotta apologise to her about that too

e-mail doesn't go through, double-check the address, re-type my whole apology and explanation again

four consecutive e-mails do not go through

fuck I gotta call them, where's my phone

just as I was about to make a phone call, I receive a phone call

forgot I had a phone appointment with my doctor, turns out I do not have a natural physical resistance to poison damage, and my medication resistance is something else.

confident in my ability to execute two unrelated tasks at once, I take a sip of my tea while on the phone. Naturally I fuck it up and pour the lukewarm tea on my lap instead.

figuring that since I'm unhurt and only poured enough to soak my clothes, not my chair, I'll just sit with the wet tea on my lap until the phonecall is over, and hang them to dry on the balcony later.

phonecall done, I remove my clothes and go hang them up to dry.

spot my little ficus tree cutting on the balcony, decide to water it since it's so hot and I don't want the thing to die.

coming back inside after leaving my clothes on the balcony, my boyfriend sees me undressed and wants affection.

he also wants to show me a video that he came upon.

make myself more tea

coming back to my computer, remember the phonecall I was supposed to make.

call the accounting people and tell them I can't e-mail the person I worked with, and get informed that the person I had been working with quit unexpectedly, and the one currently running the whole business on her own will look into my shit once she's personally out of the hospital. She meant to call me earlier about What The Fuck I'm Doing but unfortunately hospital.

promise her to deliver my accounting things today since it's the least I can do to not make her day any worse than it already is.

save through my paypal activities, log onto my online bank, check my account and do some math to confirm that I should more or less be alright until my next payday. Move some more money to my bank card account for groceries, and log out.

remember that the reason why I logged into my bank in the first place was the accounting, and log back in to get that data.

send my records to my new current accountant with apologies for not doing that for four months despite of being supposed to do it monthly.

finally done with that, satisfied of actually Getting Things Done, I suddenly realise I've spent the past three hours on random sidequests, haven't even touched whatever it was that I was planning to do today, and top of that I've completely forgotten what it was that I meant to do.

waste another half an hour writing a meticulous account of how I spent my morning doing everything else than what I meant to.

[inkskinned]

100,000 dollars is not a lot of money.

it is also a lot more money than i will ever have. my student loans make up half of that - they're coming back, i'm told, like we all bounced back recently. the other day while paying for gas to go to work, i overdrew my account without knowing it.

i sat in the car and looked at the charge and tried to do the math. where the fuck is the money even going? i don't live extravagantly. i live in a hole in the ground, in an apartment the size of a sneeze; covered in ants. yes, i wanted to live close to a population center. maybe that's my fault. i've downloaded the apps and i've spoken to the experts and i've cut back on excess. i can't help the pharmacy bills or the medical debt.

i have a good, well-paying job. when i googled it to see if i was getting a fair salary, i found out i'd be making "upper middle class" money. which doesn't make sense - is "upper middle class" now just "able to afford a one-bedroom without a roommate". when i was younger, upper-middle meant a nice big house and a backyard and vacations and not flinching about eating at a resturant.

i was talking to my friend who is a realtor. he said 100,000 dollars is extremely cheap for housing. he's not wrong. 100,000 dollars would change my life. 100,000 dollars also won't really buy you anything. it could get you out of debt, potentially, if you were lucky and had a certain amount of scholarships to tack onto your degree. you could pay off the car and then have enough left over for "spending" money. how fucking amazing. one vacation, maybe two if you're thrifty. and then - like magic - the money would evaporate into nothing. people would sigh and tell you see, you should have put it into savings! like "upper middle class" people can't afford to value "actually living" over squirrelling wealth. you should spend your life only in scarcity. like that is what made the rich people all their real "actually a lot of money".

100,000 dollars would literally set me free. it also would just set me back to "earning normally" instead of paying down debt into infinity. god, do you know how many of us just want that? that our first thought is we could stop scrambling and just be free of debt if we won the lottery? that we don't even necessarily need to stop working - we just wouldn't have to worry about failing or falling?

and. at the same time. 100,000 dollars is next to fucking nothing.

[cressidagrey]

Lightning in a Bottle - Chapter 4

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was actually pretty much useless. The only thing she wanted was to be somebody's first choice for once in her life.

Also known as: Azriel's shadows decide that if he doesn't treat his mate right... they'll just do it for him.

Warnings: 

ANGST, very bad self image, some sort of non graphic self-harm (if you squint), Rhys is kinda an asshole, vomiting

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

There wasn’t so much as a scratch on his son. 

Not a hair on his head was harmed. 

Nothing. 

Feyre cleaned him with shaky hands, running a rag wet with warm water over his skin. Nyx was babbling in response, shaken but clearly…alright. 

Nyx. His son. 

The sudden weight that was lifted off Rhys' shoulders, as he crossed the room in three long strides...it felt like he could breathe again…as he pressed a kiss to Nyx’s head breathing in that scent that was unmistakenly his and then doing the same with Feyre. 

Her scent was thick with misery, shaking against him…Lilac and Pears, usually so perfect...

“Eira’s blood is all over him,” Feyre whispered. “I’ll wipe it off and I just find more.” 

Elain was sitting across from them, silently drinking tea, eyes concentrating on something far away. He wondered if she saw anything…any vision at all? But she didn't say anything. 

Feyre hung onto his hand and he cast out his mind, feeling Madja’s determination, as she…she tried to…

Save her. 

Save her from dying because she had thrown her own body between death and his son. 

For years, Rhys had believed the second-born Archeron sister to be... 

She had just been there. 

Existed in his periphery. 

She had been the only one who had at least tried to make Feyre’s life easier, the one who had cooked and cleaned and hacked up wood and washed the blood out of Feyre’s clothing and mended it when she had taken a tumble…Eira had at least tried. He still didn’t think that it had been enough but she had that going for her. 

Privately, Rhys had thought that the only thing that was fierce about Eira Archeron was her ability to love. 

The one and only time she had outright argued with any of them… had been about her sister… about Nesta and their intervention. 

She had argued harshly and fiercely about how they had no right to do this, about how it wasn’t fair…about how she would pay back that money if it meant that they would leave Nesta in peace. 

It had not only surprised him but also Amren and even Feyre…and even when they hadn’t listened to her…

It didn’t matter what Nesta threw at her head, her sister was still there every week, waiting for him to bring her up to the House of Wind. 

Every week. Like a clockwork, she had been there. 

Rhys easily admitted that he hadn’t been particularly understanding to her at that time.

And now, that ability to love had been…it was going to be the one thing killing her, wouldn’t it?

He hadn’t said it. He had only said that it looked bad…but he could feel how Madja was slowly reaching the limits of what she could do for her. 

Everything that was…

Eira Archeron, the one cauldron-born sister with no great ability. The one that had seemingly adapted well enough to being fae…never complained, never said anything. If she had suffered, she had done so silently. 

The quiet one, the one that liked the background…the one that had pined away silently over his brother, when her twin sister had been the object of his desires. 

Rhys had half expected that to end in a brawl, but once again…Eira hadn’t…nothing had been said. She had been willing to silently pine away.  

And then the mating bond had snapped for Az and that had been…

Quite frankly, the last fucking thing Rhys had expected. 

Every…every other female would have somehow made more sense in his mind. 

“Where’s she?” Nesta stormed into the room, Cassian hot on her heels. 

“Upstairs,“ Feyre answered. “Nesta, let Madja work,” his mate tried but Nesta fixed her with one look. 

“She’s our sister. If she dies, I am not letting her die alone!” Nesta snapped out, stomping upstairs. 

And that was that. 

Nobody tried to stop her. 

“She won’t die. It’s Eira,” Elain said, her voice strangely detached. Like that was written in stone, with all the trust in the world and Rhys wished, he had some of her confidence. Nobody else had it. 

Mor sat on one chair, knees hugged to her chest. His normally always so bright, colourful cousin curled together in one miserable ball. Feyre shook next to him and he reached out for her hand, gently squeezing it, before he let her go. 

He could feel the very foundations of his brother's mental shields wobble. 

His eyes snapped to Azriel.

To Azriel who stood there, hands still covered in Eira‘s blood, red streaks on scarred skin. 

Outwardly there was only a flurry of shadows trailing around him, worriedly. No other signs. 

But his eyes…his stare was empty. 

*Cassian. Don’t let him leave your sight,* he told his other brother sharply, mind to mind. *And try and get him to clean his hands,* he added as an afterthought. Maybe that…Maybe that would help…maybe…

*Rhys,* Caddian whispered into his mind. *If she dies…I don’t know if we’ll be enough.* Cassian didn’t say anything that Rhys wasn’t thinking. Nothing that he wasn’t dreading. *You know how he…he spent centuries waiting. He never talks about it but we both know how much he wanted a mate. How much he just wants to be loved…and…*

And the mating bond had just snapped. And if Rhys hadn’t pushed for Azriel to wait, they wouldn't even be in this fucking situation. 

Azriel’s mate’s blood…Feyre’s sister’s blood…Eira’s blood…it was on his hands. On Rhys’ hands. 

*I know.*

*If she dies, I don’t know what he’ll do.*

Neither did Rhys. 

“Madja is the best. If anybody can save her it will be her,” Cassian said aloud, probably for Azriel’s benefit, crossing over to Az, gently reaching out to touch their brother’s shoulder. “Come on, we’ll get you cleaned up,” he said quietly, gently pushing Azriel from the room, probably in search of a bathroom. 

Rhys pressed a kiss to Nyx's head, who was looking around the room wide-eyed, not understanding a thing what was going on. There seemed to be no sign of their son being exhausted from the magic he had expelled. Nothing. 

A problem for another day maybe. As long as he seemed fine... 

 “Mor?” he said quietly as he kneeled at his cousin’s side, reaching out for her, hand hovering…Mor looked at him, brown eyes wide and tearful. 

His cousin. He had killed Keir with nary a thought. 

“I never thought he would…do this,” Mor whispered, reaching out for his hand. “I thought…”

There was a tiny part of Mor that still believed that her family could change…that had still loved her parents…hadn’t wanted them dead. And he had taken that from her. 

“I know,” he whispered and she squeezed his hand in response. 

*I am sorry…* he said nonetheless in her mind and he could feel her surprise and then her acceptance. Mor wasn’t angry. Even when she had every right to it...Right to hate him for killing her father, even when Rhys had every right to do that as well. Hate could fester easily under such circumstances. 

*I am not,* Mor disagreed. *He got what he had coming…* A pause. Then she pushed a memory at him…Eira’s still body…the grey pallor of her usually pale skin…the way she had been limb and cold in Mor’s grasped as she had winnowed them to the River House and then fetched Madja…all in the span of seconds.

The blood…the dagger to the heart she had taken…Azriel’s magic pulsing around her, the shadows that hovered…all of it…it looked like the scene out of a nightmare. 

*It’s not looking good, Rhys,* Mor whispered. *Az doesn’t deserve this.* No, he didn’t. But neither did the female laying up there and fighting for her fucking life. 

All of it just because of…

He had pulled it all out of Keir’s head before he had killed him. The whole hare-brained plan, if one could call it like that. 

Nyx’s wings an obvious sign of his “half-breed” status…and with that, not something that Keir could stomach the thought of bowing to one day. Kill the heir, destablise the whole Night Court…Hope that Rhys could be baited. And then Keir would have made his move and the Night Court would be reunited under the glorious reign of Keir. 

And because of that, of the obsession of one male…his son had nearly died. 

He looked up sharply as he heard the steps. “Madja.” 

“I removed the knife. I stopped the bleeding,” Madja said, the dress she wore blood-flecked. “I did all I could.” 

He didn’t doubt that. The question was just if that was going to be enough. 

“She’s alive. For the moment,” Madja cautioned them quietly. “She’s…She’s fighting. The poison they dunked that knife in was…particularly nasty. It stops the blood from clotting…makes the pain feel much worse than it is.” 

She didn’t need to spell it out. It was torture. “Is…Is there an antidote?” Feyre asked, her voice shaking. 

“None that her body would be able to absorb without killing her right now,” Madja said carefully. “She’s…magically exhausted. She expelled…most, if not all of her magic.” 

“She never had much in the first place,” Mor choked out. “She probably tried to winnow and…”

And that hadn’t worked. It had failed. 

“What…what can we do?” Feyre asked, her voice shaking. 

“We wait,” Madja answered calmly. “I gave her every potion I could…I healed as much as I could… If she pulls through the night…I would be cautiously optimistic,” she told Feyre, her voice gentle. “Infection has already set in. She’s feverish. Lady Nesta is with her.“

And Rhys didn’t doubt for one moment that Nesta would stay right at her side…she was stubborn like that. 

“Is she…is she in pain?” Feyre asked, her hands tightening on Nyx, who was sucking on his thumb. 

Madja hummed softly. “She will be for days, High Lady,” she told Feyre, not unkindly. 

*Rhys…Could you…Please, I don’t want her to be in pain. Even if she doesn’t…even if she dies, Eira shouldn’t be in pain.* 

No, she shouldn’t be. 

*Of course, Feyre Darling,* he agreed quietly. As much pain as he could take from her, he would. 

“Mor?” he said aloud, and his cousin looked up, unfurling from her little ball. 

“I’ll deal with the fallout,“ she said, her voice only shaking around the edges. “Amren and I will manage." 

“She should be back soon,” he said aloud.  *She’s dealing with…the carnage,* he said into Mor’s mind and his cousin just nodded. It was better that…most people didn’t know what had happened...they didn't need to deal with the bodies…especially when they themselves didn’t even know how it had happened yet. 

Instead, he pressed another kiss to Nyx’s head and then, even when he didn’t want to leave him…he walked up the stairs to Eira’s bedroom. 

She had taken over a room on the third level of the house…away from both the master bedroom and also the room Elain had chosen, overlooking the garden. 

Eira’s room overlooked the River. It wasn’t the biggest bedroom either, with sloped ceilings that made it look smaller than it was…and the usual furniture that Feyre had picked for every room in the house. 

He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but maybe he had expected the room to have gotten a little bit more personality in the over 2 years that Eira now lived there. Something. Anything. 

The only thing that made it obvious that it was her room, was a box of thread spilling over her desk. 

Eira was on her bed and Nesta was sitting at her side, glaring at him as he opened the door. “Out!” Nesta snapped. “I do not want you to see her like that.” 

“See her like what?” Rhys asked, eyebrows climbing into his hairline. Half dead? Her skin was still grey, breath raspy…as he stepped closer to the bed, he could see the sweat beading at her hairline…

Nesta glared at him as she tugged a sheet around her, covering her.  

“In a state of undress,” she told him sharply. 

He blinked twice. 

He really couldn’t care less about it. Besides, she was still wearing a dress, even when Madja had cut it open to make it easier for her to reach the wound on her ribcage. And he had seen her in less…when she had been thrown into that cauldron and spat out again, the white cotton of her nightgown had become translucent. 

He hadn’t cared, because the only female he even wanted to look at anymore was Feyre, and her sisters were his now…

“I really don’t care about that,” he assured Nesta, who just glared at him. 

“She would,” Nesta spat out. “Eira would care, Rhysand.  She saved your son at the expense of her own life. The least you could give her is some fucking respect and her modesty.”

Right. 

“Is there ever going to come a day where you don’t expect the worst of me?” he asked with a sigh, moving to her desk to pick up the chair and bring it over to her side. 

He watched with surprise as shadows started to cover her body…becoming nearly solid in places, obscuring her torso from view, only leaving out her face and her limbs. 

Nesta stared at them for a moment but then seemed to think that they couldn’t possibly make it any worse. 

“Why are you here?” Nesta demanded from him. 

“I am a daemati,” he gave back drily as he sat down in the chair, mustering Eira’s prone form. Fine-boned, pale skin with a smattering of freckles just like Feyre. Not fragile, but…delicate.

“You are not poking around in her head,” Nesta seethed. 

“Even if it would take away her pain?” he offered lightly. Nesta harrumphed.  

“Then what the fuck are you waiting for?”

 Rhys took that as the only agreement he was going to get.

He reached out with his mind, expecting to carefully brush up against Eira’s mental shields…It seemed to be the only magical thing that she had easily caught on to. 

He had always left her mind alone, no reason why he should delve any deeper than surface sweeps he did on instincts…not when Eira’s mind had always been…soft in a sense. More worried about how other people felt than herself…

Now…unconscious. Ravaged by fever…there were no shields. Her mind bloomed under his touch, suddenly, harshly... She dragged him inside and he tumbled right into her memories. 

One quick snapshot after another. So quickly…too quickly. 

***

Wooden Ruler to her knuckles. Pain biting. Hard. Crying. Do not lie to me. 

She hadn’t lied. She hadn’t. The letters had truly changed places in front of her. She couldn’t help it. She couldn’t…

***

A hand grasping underneath her chin, so tightly that it hurt. Steel grey eyes. Her eyes. She inherited them. 

Your resemblance to a mole rat is rather unfortunate. But don’t worry. I am sure you’ll make a proper wife someday. To a farmer maybe. 

That was alright. She could be a wife. She wanted to be a wife. Even to a farmer…she…She wanted to be a wife. She wanted to have children…a baby…

***

Molten ore being poured into her veins. Humanity burned away. Fury. So much fury poured over her body. Your sister stole from me… And she paid the price. In blood and pain and drowning. 

Heat and Cold and burning alive and freezing…

She hit the floor, her whole body not her own…not anymore. 

Not her body. Never her body. Never again. 

***

Again. And Again. And Again. 

Back and Forth and Back and Forth and Back and Forth…

A quiet moan as she pulled at her ears, too long, too pointy, not hers, not hers, she never wanted these, but they were there sprouting from her head and they heard too much and she saw too much and she…

Back and Forth and Back and Forth…Iron taste in her mouth, too sharp teeth biting into her lip. 

She didn’t care. 

Back and Forth and Back and Forth and Back and Forth and maybe she would fall asleep and she wouldn’t hear heartbeats and she wouldn’t hear voices and she wouldn’t be heard, sat in that closet, in that tight and dark little place, because everything else felt too much. 

Back and Forth and Back and Forth and Back and Forth…

***

Peace. For the first time…in a long time. Peace. Just her hands, stitching on that button, one after another…the notes building in her throat. A children’s lullaby. Feyre had loved it. 

Stop your screeching, girl, I am getting a headache.

Said the scary one. 

The words stuck in her throat. 

She didn’t do it again. Not where anybody could hear it. 

She should make no noises. She wasn’t allowed to make any noises. Not allowed to take up any space. 

***

Screams muffled by pillows, shaking and crying and weeping and she didn’t know how she could stand it…Griefing and crying and she wanted to shout and scream and she couldn’t…she couldn’t…she couldn’t…

***

She was a failure. She always was a failure. Never enough. It didn’t matter what she did. She was dumb, she was stupid, she wasn’t good enough. 

As far as cauldron-made goes, she is pretty much useless.

So pretty. So beautiful…so blonde, with golden hair. So powerful. Everything she wasn’t. 

Everything she shouldn’t be.

Laughter. 

It was the truth. She was useless. 

She couldn’t do what came so easily to everybody else. No winnowing. No anything. Not good enough. Regardless of how hard she tried. 

***

Please. Please. Please. Just once…Just one time…

Garden. Wrought Iron table and chairs…broad wings sunning in the sun…a quiet conversation…a male’s laugh. So beautiful…so handsome…so kind. 

Her sister turned…he smiled. 

So beautiful.  So handsome. So kind. Hazel green eyes…dark curly hair. 

She wanted him. 

But he didn’t want her. 

So in love. With Elain. 

Not with her. Never with her. Never would be. 

Nobody would ever want her. He wouldn’t ever want her. 

***

Her sister. Her sister. Regardless of anything. 

Don’t come crying to me if she bites off your head. I warned you.

She wouldn’t. Her tears didn’t matter. To anybody. She would deal with them herself. It was her own fault. She didn’t listen. 

She couldn’t listen. Her sister. Her sister. 

Her fault. 

She should know better. 

***

Don’t you have anything better to do? Like make another ugly dress?

Silver embroidery floss, red silk. 

Black thread. 

Little hands painstakingly stitching, only for the dress to be just as painstakingly wrapped up and put in the chest at the bottom of her bed, never to be seen again. It was better that way. 

Never would be worn by a bride on her wedding day…or a Valkyrie on the day of her mating ceremony. 

Ugly Dresses. Not pretty enough. Not good enough. Never good enough. Not for Nesta. Not for anybody. 

***

Her own fault. Shouldn’t eavesdrop. They never heard anything good about themselves. 

We don’t need Eira. Quite frankly, it’s better if she doesn’t go. Elain is the prettier one, anyway.

Nobody needed her. Better if she didn’t bother anybody. Elain was prettier. Always was. Always would be. She was the ugly one. She wasn’t needed. She was worth nothing. 

***

Delicate tea. Ginger Cookies. Her sister’s favourite. Sun outside in the garden, dancing on the wooden floor…

Eira, find somewhere else to be. I really have more important things to do. 

Of course. She was a bother. She shouldn’t. She should know better. Others were more important. Shouldn’t bother. Stupid. Stupid. STUPID. 

***

Quiet. Don’t bother anybody. Make yourself useful. 

Nyx. 

So beautiful. 

Just like Feyre. 

Sing. Softly. So nobody could hear. 

So nobody… just Nyx. Hers and not hers. Feyre’s. 

Envy. So much envy, because she wished she had what her sister had. She wished she had a husband and a baby and somebody that loved her. 

Somebody who didn’t hate her. But she didn’t. 

So she sang. Another human lullaby for the future High Lord. 

Again and Again and again and her broken heart broke even more. 

***

Blue velvet box. Winter solstice. 

Pearl Earrings. Beautiful. So beautiful. 

But for her…for her useless. Her ears weren’t pierced. 

He hadn’t even noticed that. It hurt worse than even his smiles at her sister. 

He had brought her a gift…but it wasn’t a gift that she could use, no gift that…no gift that was special to her…no thought behind it… just an item on a list to be checked off. 

Something for Eira. Beautiful and Impersonal and…

No attention paid to her. 

She didn’t deserve his attention. Never. 

But she wanted it. Just once…

Please, Please, Please, Please…

***

She wanted to help. She always wanted to help. 

At least I found two males in my life willing to marry me. The one you have your ridiculous puppy crush on is never even going to look at you!

Her sister. Her sister. Her sister. 

She wished to cease existing. She didn’t care anymore. 

She could disappear and she would do them all a favour. 

Especially him. 

***

Fledgeling happiness shattered like a glass bottle on a stone floor. 

Could you at least try to get over him? It’s…it would be better for…this court.

Her feelings. An inconvenience. Should get over them. Now. Before they make trouble. 

Even when she never told anybody. Kept that secret close to her heart….

Of course. She would never tell him. 

She would never say a word. She would close her eyes and wish herself far, far away. 

Better that way. 

Wasn’t good enough. Useless. Stupid to think that she had a chance. She didn’t. Ugly. Not Enough. Worthless. Do not take up space. Melt into the background. Cease to exist. 

***

Rhys snapped himself from her brain, and then promptly wretched, vomiting onto the floor. 

[thezombieprostitute]

Your small town has been invaded by a biker club. They want a peaceful takeover but they can twist your arm if needed.

Holy shnikes, I spent so much time working on this! I almost had to make it a two part story! I've barely been able to work on anything else because I needed to get this story written up instead. I honestly think I've never written anything like this before.

Word Count: ~3.6k

Warnings: Choking, Dub/non consent, Implied violence, Knife play (mild). Please let me know if I missed any!

Next Part

Sheriff Lee Bodecker and Mayor John Walker caved to the bikers pretty quickly. Part of you could understand why; only a handful of officers in the entire county compared to a full biker gang? They'd never stand a chance. Better to be allowed to live without having to worry about ending up in the hospital. The Mayor didn't care so long as he got to keep his job, which now meant making the bikers happy.

Which meant paying the bikers with money from the city budget. Your library's budget in particular.

When you'd tried to argue about it, Mayor Walker hit back with "well we can't take any more from the school! Besides, no one needs the library anymore. They've all got their home computers and Internet. You'll be fine with the new budget."

In the end you'd had to let go all but one very part-time employee, relying on two or three volunteers instead. You were already working long hours but now they felt endless. With the budget cut, you had to reduce the purchases of new books in favor of maintaining the Internet connection several of older patrons relied on. Almost half of your day was spent working on applying for grants for additional funding for after-school programs and free-lunch programs for during the summer breaks.

Looking over everything, you were certain you'd have to dip into your own meager savings if you were going to meet the needs of your community. Mayor Walker really didn't seem to understand what the people of his city actually needed, but he didn't seem to care so long as he was in charge.

During an after-school reading time with the Kindergartners you're surprised by the entrance of one of the bikers. You think he's the second-in-command, but you're not sure. He's definitely not the blond in charge; "Cap" you think they call their leader. Still, you have kids to take care of, and this newcomer is a grown man. He can take care of himself.

When the story is done it's time for a nap for the kids. This is very likely the longest they've ever been away from home, away from family, and the sleep helps keep them from getting overstimulated. It was another thing Mayor Walker just didn't understand. All of these kids had parents that worked full time and couldn't afford a babysitter. There were no daycare options, either. Decades ago the kids could be left with a grandparent or a cousin, but they're all working as well or moved out of town. That left the library as a haven for the kids who didn't have access to the limited after-school activities as an option.

If there's anything good about working in such a tiny library it's that you can keep an eye on the kids and the biker while going about your other duties. Thankfully you'd gotten some WD-40 for the book carts so they wouldn't squeak and wake anyone up while you re-shelve books.

You also get a better look at the biker. He's sitting in one of the chairs reading The Hobbit. You hate to admit it but he does look handsome. Longish dark hair, steely blue eyes. For some reason he's still wearing his gloves. If only his arrival hadn't heralded such troubles for you. Well, at least he wasn't causing trouble.

Shelving the books gets you a bit of stretching and some impromptu squat exercises. You spend so much of your time at a desk that this is the closest thing you get to a workout. Given how your body continually snaps, crackles and pops, you could probably use more.

Your exercise is cut short by Ruth's entry and you have to fight the urge to let out a groan. Ruth is one of the older ladies in town who refused to get a computer for her home. Unfortunately that means each time she visits, you have to walk her through even the most basic elements of using a computer so she can send an email to her granddaughter. The entire time she complains to you about how much she hates computers and how much she wishes her daughter would've raised her own daughter correctly and been happy to just accept a phone call, and on, and on, and on.

"Hello Ruth," you quietly say, customer service smile on. "Let me go ahead and log you in to one of our computers?"

"I'm not an invalid!" she loudly complains. You try to quiet her, pointing to the sleeping children but she isn't having it. "All you youngsters thinking an old lady can't do anything for herself! How dare you imply I can't log on to a computer? I'll do it my own self."

You take a breath to steady yourself before looking over at the little ones. They seem largely undisturbed but, knowing Ruth, they'll be awake sooner rather than later. Sighing you go ahead and get their after nap snacks ready. Just another hour or so until their parents start coming by to pick them up. It doesn't take long before Ruth is yelling at the computer, complaining to you that "it's clearly broken" and "why can't we just write letters" along with her forever complaint of "wouldn't have to do this if she'd just pick up the damn phone!"

The kids start waking up and you quickly have to balance keeping them from being upset by the angry lady while also knowing any attempts to placate the angry lady will be met with more anger. Thankfully the snacks are a good distraction for most.

"Would you like some help on a different computer, Ruth?" you ask through gritted teeth, knowing the answer.

"Oh stop treating me like one of those brats," she snaps back. "What kind of library is this where computers are more important than books? Shouldn't even have these monstrosities here!"

"Excuse me, Ruth, is it? I'm Bucky." You'd been so distracted going between Ruth and the kids you didn't notice the biker had put down his book and walked over.

"Oh don't get me started on you and yours!" Ruth retorts. "Town was so much better before you hooligans came along! Now I can't even call the police to help me out when then those teenagers are loitering in my yard!"

"Well Ruth, let me give you my number so the next time you can call me instead of the police," he offers. You're surprised at how calm he's sounding despite being yelled at.

Ruth huffs, "you no-good-beatniks! How dare you insult me! You should get out of our town and leave us good folk alone!"

The biker, Bucky, smiles, "seems to me 'good folk' don't go harassing people who are just trying to do their job." You have to bite back a laugh at that comment. It's no good riling her up even more.

Ruth storms out, letting you focus on the kids who are looking unsure if they should be upset or not. You give the biker a quick "thank you" before giving the little ones all of your attention. He nods and goes back to his reading.

Soon enough the parents start coming in and picking up their kids. Several of them stick around long enough to check out a book or movie and you have to balance taking care of the remaining children with getting the families out on their way. It's always such an ado that makes you really wish you could hire some extra help. A few parents complain about the snacks you gave their kids and you remind them, yet again, that they are free to donate snacks they consider appropriate. All the while you keep your customer service smile up, despite how much you're internally screaming and crying.

Things finally calm down and you're able to sit and take a breather. You desperately want to quit but this community needs a library, even if the Mayor doesn't think so. And goodness knows they'd never be able to hire anyone else to work these conditions. You look over to where the biker is sitting, still reading. If his gang hadn't shown up, you'd be in a much better position. Maybe even able to take a vacation.

Checking the time you decide to keep your professionalism and head over to the man. "Sir, excuse me?" He looks up at you, bright blue eyes momentarily startled. "Sir, we're going to be closing in about a half hour."

"Oh, yeah, sure thing," he nods as he closes the book. "Also, please call me Bucky."

"Sure thing, Bucky," you nod, too tired to argue.

"Gotta say, you do a lot of work for a librarian."

"What do you mean by that?" You don't hold back the bite in your tone and cross your arms.

He chuckles, "I didn't mean to offend. Just, I thought librarians were just supposed to check out the books, y'know? Maybe answer questions? Didn't expect you to also be a daycare, IT person and all that."

"And that's just the work that you saw," you snap at him.

"Don't you have anyone helping you out?"

"I did, before your gang came along!" You're unable to hold back any longer. "Because of you the Mayor cut my budget! I had to fire pretty much all my staff! I can't get the half the books the people of this community want! I have to beg the state government for funds to make sure kids have food when they don't school meals! Do you know how much cleaning I have to do because there's no room in the budget for professionals?! Do you have any idea how many of the things around here I have to pay for out of my own pocket?! You bikers demanded protection money and it came out of my budget!"

Bucky's gloved hand grabs neck, stopping you from talking. You try to fight but his arm is stronger than expected. Surprisingly he doesn't look angry so much as amused. "You know, I never thought I could go for the librarian type but this fire of yours does something to me." Your nostrils flare and he chuckles. "I've been yelled at twice today, Doll. A man can only take so much."

"I'm sorry," you grumble as best you can.

His hand loosens, "what was that, Doll?"

"I'm sorry," you repeat. "While you are the reason my budget was cut, you're not the one who made the decision. I'm sorry I took my anger and frustration out on you."

"That's more like it," he snickers. He pulls you uncomfortably close to himself. "And I'm more than happy to reward that better behavior." You look at him, confusion written all over your face, as the leather of his glove caresses your cheek. "Like I said, I never thought a librarian would rouse my interest, but you're something else." You roll your eyes and try to pull away, but he isn't having it. His grip tightens around your throat again, even as his smile widens, baring his teeth. "I can be very good to you, Doll, so long as you're good for me."

His implication is clear and you really don't have any options.

"I need to close the library," you grumble.

Bucky removes his hand from around your throat, "good idea. Don't want to get caught now, do we?"

Your body is shaking as you go about the routine for closing the library. Your brain is working overtime to try to figure out some kind of way out of this. Running isn't an option. Even if you made it to your car, where could you go? Calling for help definitely wouldn't do anything. You seriously doubt he would hesitate to make an example of you if you ran.

With the last of the doors locked and the blinds closed you return the biker and almost whimper, "my office?"

"Oh Doll," he cups your chin. "You don't need to be scared of me. I'll be good to you."

"Do...do you...do you have a condom?"

He chuckles, "don't worry, we're not going that far tonight. But I love that you're ready for it."

Without warning he grabs you and pulls you in for a suffocating, forceful kiss. His tongue quickly pushing its way past your lips. Mentally reminding yourself to do what he wants, you open your mouth to give him access and he moans. One of his hands moves down to your breast and you have to will yourself to not flinch away from the touch.

"Take off the cardigan. And the top," he orders.

You back up just a bit so you can oblige. "The bra as well?"

"Nah, that'll be for me to remove." His voice sounds rougher than before and his eyes are definitely darker. He seems amused by the fact that you maintain eye contact while removing your clothes. "You're so pretty when you're defiant," he teases. "But I'm sure I'll have you pleading for more in no time."

Willing your eyes not to roll you instead snipe back, "don't make promises you can't keep. Wouldn't be the first disappointment I've had."

He has the nerve to laugh at that. "I'll make a believer out of you, Doll."

Walking to your office, he sits in your chair, gesturing for you to get on his lap. "Make me think you want this," he commands.

Taking a deep breath, eyes never leaving his, you move to straddle him. He's surprised when you grab the back of his head and turn his face up before shoving your tongue down his throat. He moans in appreciation and his arms wrap around you as he returns your fervor. You bite his lower lip and start grinding against his crotch.

He removes his right glove before undoing your bra faster than you expected. You pull apart from him just long enough to remove the bra and he takes the opportunity to latch himself to your breast. His ungloved hand moves to fondle your other breast while his surprisingly strong left arm holds you up. His ministrations have you gasping as your body instinctively continues to grind against him. His slow, languid movements are in direct contrast to the speed your hips have set and the difference is affecting you.

Suddenly you're on your back on the desk. Bucky had managed to move his left hand to prevent your head from banging on the desk. Your eyes widened from more than just surprise at the realization of how fast and strong he was.

"Sorry, Doll, you were getting me too worked up already," he smirks at you. He moves his hands so they're on each side of your head, hovering over you. "It really is the quiet ones, huh?" You can't help roll your eyes and he chuckles. "Let's see how loud you can get."

He quickly unbuttons your pants and pulls them off of you before getting out a knife. Your breath hitches and he chuckles as he takes the blade to your panties, cutting them off of you. He puts the panties to his nose, "you smell so good. How long's it been, Doll? Months? Can't imagine you get a lotta action in this town."

"It's been a while," you confess, heat burning your cheeks at how turned on you are. You can't bring yourself to look at him.

He stuffs your panties into his pocket and taps your thighs with the knife so you spread them open. "You look so pretty like this," he snickers, clearly amused by your discomfort.

He slams the knife into the desk by your head, making you yelp in surprise. Using his left arm to hover over you, he whispers into your ear, "such a pretty scream," as his fingers start playing with your pussy. He groans at how wet you are, "fuck, Doll, I should'a known you'd be into the rough play."

You squeal as he mercilessly jams two of his fingers into you, all the way to the knuckle. As you involuntarily arch your back he alternates licking, sucking and nibbling your nipples. He adds a third finger and mercilessly drives his hand in and out of your soaked pussy. He pushes himself up and uses his now free arm to start choking you. You try to push his arm away, but it's impossibly strong. You're shocked to feel your orgasm building as your gasping for air.

He must sense it too because he grins and starts ordering you to "give me what I want, Doll. Cum around my fingers. I can feel how close you are." He gives your nipple a sharp bite that pushes you over the edge and cum with a hoarse scream, his fingers never slowing down, his grip never letting up.

It's only after you've stopped cumming that he eases up. "That was fucking gorgeous," he taunts before pulling his fingers out of you and licking them. He closes his eyes and moans at your flavor, making you burn with embarrassment. You start to get up but his left hand keeps you pressed to the desk. "I'm not done, Doll."

"I'm sorry," you murmur. "I shouldn't have assumed."

"God you're a good, smart girl. Keep those legs spread for me." You do as he says while trying to look anywhere but him. He pulls the knife out of your desk and flips it so that the hilt is pointed towards you. "Look at me, Doll. I want you to watch." You struggle to look and he rubs the hilt of the knife against your oversensitive clit, making you jump. "I said, look. At. Me. Doll." You're quick to follow his orders this time.

He puts the knife away before undoing his belt and pants. As much as you could feel when you were grinding against him, as much as you could see the his bulge, you weren't expecting his cock to be so big. Your eyes widen and he chuckles, "like I said, we're not going that far tonight. Now be good and don't move unless I tell you."

Grabbing your legs he pulls you so your ass is a little off the desk and runs his cock over your pussy, gathering up your slick and rubbing over your clit, making you whimper. He starts groaning in pleasure, "god you're so wet from just one orgasm. Can't wait to see how soaked you get after a full night with me." He positions your thighs so that you're squeezing his cock between them and he gives a few thrusts, spreading your own juices all your thighs.

"Gonna mark you up with my cum," he growls as he picks up his pace, squeezing your thighs even tighter. His hands are hurting you but his cock keeps rubbing against your clit and it's feeling so damn good you don't register his words. You moan and whine as you barrel towards your next orgasm. "That's it, Doll. You make the prettiest faces. Can't wait to see you covered in my cum. Gonna look so damn pretty with my seed all over you."

He squeezes your thighs impossibly tight and you cum so hard from the pain and pleasure combination you don't notice him ejaculating all over your stomach and chest.

When he finally catches his breath he reaches into his jacket and pulls out his phone to take a photo. You try to protest but he gives you a warning look. You drop your face, trying to not cry from how dirty you feel. He puts the phone away and lifts your chin, "don't worry, Doll. That photo is just for me." He kisses the top of your head and you try not to wince. "And because you were so good to me, made me feel so good, I'll be good to you. Now get your clothes back on and I'll escort you home."

"Can I clean up?"

"Not until you get home," he growls. "You don't get rid of my marks until I give you permission."

"Yes, Bucky," you sniffle.

"Aw, don't be like that, Doll," he gently chides. "I take care of what's mine."

The next morning you wake up from a nightmare riddled sleep, feeling more tired than ever. After your morning routine you step outside to head to the library but stop short when you see Bucky on his motorcycle, waiting for you. Wordlessly he hands you a helmet and you don't even try to question or talk him out of whatever he has planned, you just put the helmet on and get on the bike behind him, holding him incredibly tight so you don't fall off.

He stops in front of City Hall and helps you off the bike before walking you in. He doesn't stop until he's led you to the Mayor's office. Your shocked to see Cap, the leader of the biker gang, sitting next to Mayor Walker, whose nose has recently been broken. You gasp and try to turn away but Bucky grabs you and keeps you facing the Mayor.

Cap pats Walker's shoulder, "now what did I tell you?"

Walker shudders a little before looking at you and shakily saying, "I'm so sorry for cutting your budget so much. I will amend that today, making sure to take the money out of my own salary."

Your shaking, unable to respond. Bucky whispers into your ear, "what do you say, Doll?"

"Th-thank you, Mayor Walker," you stutter. "I...I really appreciate that you've ch-changed your mind."

"That's my girl," Bucky whispers before guiding you out of the office.

Next Part

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly

[andhumanslovedstories]

To the extent you feel comfortable sharing ofc - why do you need a mouth reconstruction? Is that something dental insurance doesn't cover?

Best of luck for your recovery <3

I have a combination of very weak enamel and furious teeth grinding. The combination meant that my teeth were sheered down until the enamel was gone. I was down to just the dentin underneath, which means my teeth were only going to start eroding faster. Multiple dental providers were saying that I was on track for dentures by fifty. I was super cold sensitive on one side, and I had a tooth pulled on the other side due to a botched root canal, which meant there was no way to comfortably chew many types of food. It was affecting what I’d choose to eat, and buddy I do NOT need more obstacles to eating. And just aesthetics-wise, my teeth’s appearance didn’t bother me enough to pay this much just for them to look better, but I didn’t love that they were permanently yellow and that my face was losing height due to how small my teeth were.

(I’m convinced my prosthedontist and my dental surgeon were both more bothered by the aesthetics of my mouth than I was. My surgeon literally said, “I bet you were pretty insecure about your teeth before this, right?” And I was like “ummmm not really?“ and he was like “really? I mean good! But please understand they look so much better.”)

So I got gum surgery and a base for a dental implant installed several months ago, and now I’ve got temporary crowns in which are actually these connected blocks of teeth that I need special floss to take care of.

They’re So Big and So White.

And tomorrow I get my permanent crowns which should look and feel like real teeth! And then after that I get fitted for a mouthguard to prevent me from wearing the new ones down to nubs as well. (You can use an over the counter mouth guard for grinding, which is what I was using while I was buying time to get my teeth fixed. I’m getting in custom fit in the hopes my jaw will be less sore when I wake up. Any mouthguard is better than no mouth guard if you’re a grinder though, trust me. Save yourself the enamel and the money.)

Speaking of money, I’ll be super blunt: in total, I paid about $8000 for the gum surgery and implant, and $36000 for almost entire mouth of new crowns (I’ve only got two original teeth left). Insurance covered a little over half the surgery fees and like $2k of the crowns. (My insurance will pay for up to 50% of the price of a crown every two years, and I need about twenty crowns all at once, so. Yeah.) I investigated going to Mexico or Canada to get the work done, but ultimately my dental situation is complicated enough to require coordination of multiple providers and regular check ups over many months. It was going to be to complicated to arrange that internationally, plus travel and lodgings, to be worth the diminishing amount of money I would save. I do think I could have gotten all this work done for cheaper, but I’m not sure if it actually would have been something I followed through on. And basically, the sooner I get this work done, the better in terms of face shape and teeth migration and all that, so I was like “fuck it let’s go,” so here we are. In twenty-four hours, I’ll have a brand new mouth.

[fandoms-in-law]

Seeing Through

Summary: Today, Steve is moving out and his parents choose now to have one of their random days home.

Author's note: Why does it feel like half these prompts are the same or similar? I need to reduce the amount of Steve songs prompts I put down.

My Idea for this Fic: 'I see Through You' - Taboo songfic - Steve moving out, saying fuck you to his parents.

/\/

They weren’t meant to come home. Steve had planned everything around his parents never being there.

Except there they were pulling into the driveway as the Party helped him load all his things onto Eddie’s van; and his father did not look happy.

“Quit groaning, Wheeler, or you’re unloading all the boxes alone later.” Eddie laughed as he and Mike carried Steve’s mattress out. His parents would assume that was theirs, that Steve was taking furniture they’d brought with him, but after injuries and fighting the Upside Down for so long, he’d replaced it, saved and spent his own money to have a better nights sleep.

“Steven!” His parents had gotten out of the car now, and the yell had anyone close enough hurrying out, concerned looks on their faces. “What is the meaning of this thievery?”

Steve glanced from them back to the house, and around at the people he called his family. “I’m moving out. Not going to leave anything I brought in your mausoleum.” He replied, measuring the space between them and how much slower than a demodog they moved.

After everything they’d fought, after finally moving out, there wasn’t much power his parent could swing over him. Also Hopper was probably just inside, ready to either come out or go to his room depending on how his parents reacted now. The likelihood they’d try to call, or at least threaten them with, the police was decent but Hopper would cut that off immediately if they saw him.

“That mattress-” His father began again, gesturing harshly before Steve cut him off.

“-I brought myself. Yours will be back on that bed frame by now.” That had been his request, whomever was bringing his mattress down put the old one on before bringing it out, and Eddie double checked it just twenty minutes ago.

A cold laugh came in response. “You expect me to believe that? With the crooks van you got to move your things in plain view.”

Steve bristled, glancing over to check Eddie wasn’t about to react for him. “That van and its owner have done more honest work in the last 6 months than you two have in your entire lives. They’re my family; you’re strangers who share my DNA”

“At least we aren’t common thieves.” Hello Mother, nice of you to join the conversation, Steve thought meeting her narrowed gaze.

“Of course you are.” He scoffed, “White collar crime, Nancy called it. Underpaying workers, dodging taxes. You’re crooks in pretty clothes but common enough. I’ve seen through the mask and I’m gone. No more son for you to forget about.”

“We don’t forget you and the destruction you’re doing to our name.”

“Stop twisting your reality to fit your views. This is me taking my life out of your hands in the sweetest goodbye. Actually you’re making it a bit bitter by your presence. How about you fuck off as you usually have done?” Steve had noticed his father focus more on the van again, and Mike stood near it while Eddie disappeared into the back of it. Baiting them would keep the focus where it needed to be.

Possibly not that much though, as his father took a step closer, “You aren’t leaving. What money do you have to-”

“Quite a bit actually. Or did you assume the jobs you forced him to get paid nothing?” Robin was at his side now, Nancy’s handbag under her arm.

“Odd accessory choice. She got one of them?” He quietly asked, knowing that Nance was still likely to have two guns in her bag.

He didn’t need her now before turning back to his parents. “Also Grandfather died. I know you were far too busy for the funeral but I inherited a far amount from him despite you never allowing him contact. Guess you never were god.”

His father tried to retort, but didn’t get a word out. His mother simply levelled a judgemental look at him, one he hoped nobody suggested was similar to looks he pulled, before heading into the house, “And that was your Grandfather’s failing, wasting funds on untrustworthy youth. I shall be ensuring none of our things are taken.”

Once his parents were inside, Robin and Eddie were leaning on each of his shoulder’s, nail bat left leaning against the doors to the truck with Mike. “Wait, did you really inherit from your Grandad?”

“Yeah, we wrote letters for a while. First did it after finding his address, half sobbing cause they’d abandoned me. So many tears cried over such worthless people.” Steve replied, “I found better easily.”

/\

“Steven.” His mother called, stopping him from climbing into the van, some letters in hand. “Why are all these utility companies saying they’ll be cut off from tomorrow?”

He blinked at her, continuing to sit down. “Because I saw through you. You tried turning them off ages ago just expecting me to pick the bills up, so I did. And now I’ve told them all I, the bill payer, will no longer be living here. They were very understanding.”

With the door shutting Eddie had them on their way to the apartment they’d gotten. It wouldn’t be perfect, but it would be far more of a home and a family than he was leaving.

[qprpbj]

ik u posted ab this like a million and one years ago but ur pb&j runaway au literally haunts me. like literally stare up at my ceiling at night thinking about how fcking upset soda and darry would be haunts me. so i must know how do u think that went down 😣 like who brought up running away who actually brought it up as a Serious Thing They Could Do was it impulsive or heavily premeditated did they have a very solid plan HOW DO THE GANG REACT TO ITTTT omg this au haunts me SO BAD u have no idea 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ in my head i envisioned it as like they have a plan and a set day but then darry does smth that Really pisses pony off and he’s like “johnny 😐😐 idc we were meant to go in two weeks we’re going NOW i fcking #hate my brother” SO I NEED TO KNOW HOW U ENVISIONED IT i’m dying dead no matter what btw i love ur mind about the outsiders

stop bc i thought i elaborated more on that but when i scrolled down my account i literally made one half assed post and that IT oh that is so insane. i literally think about them on the daily though it’s not even funnyyyy so this ask made me so happy 🙇🙇 (just so you know these are basically all just messages of mine copy pasted from chats with @girlishwhimsies bc i’m too lazy to write it all out in diff words and bc the lore for this au still EATSSSS but id be SOOO happy to elaborate more on anything :D)

- i’m imagining some universe where like. the slap and everything never happens but that also means pony never really has a reason to bond with darrel so it just stays tense and weird for years and eventually he’s like. 16/17 and johnnys 18/19 and everything’s just gotten worse and both of them are so tired of their lives here. pony sees some obscure movie at the theatre and/or reads a new age book that’s set in new york about queerness in some way (idk what movie and/or book. will have to research) a la i’ve seen it in the movies and in the books i’ve read, this place is real, it’s not just in my head btw. and pony brings this to johnny and excitedly tells him this plan he has to just. up and run away to new york. he can drop out and change his name and get new ids (it was the 60s tbf) and say he’s a year or two older and he’ll get a job too with johnny. that they don’t have to just dream about being far away from tulsa, so to speak, they can just. do it. the only thing stopping them is themselves and their fears

-pony going to the library and stealing maps and checking out like 10 books about travelling and saving money and about new york and. maybe one or two he hides about queerness

-them asking dally what new york is like and dally getting all pissed but not thinking much of it. then suddenly they’re vanished with all their belongings overnight and dally knows Exactly where they’d have gone. the gang has to follow them but they never catch up

-dally shooting up in bed one night like a week later at like 3am rushing over to the brothers house all i know where they are. they asked me about. about new york the other day. oh my fucking god and darrel’s all just??? new y— NEW YORK?? what the hell did you SAY TO THEM??

-frankly i think they’d wanna go and look after them but they’re poor and darry has a job so. they just put out missing persons requests and have no choice but to call it a day. darry feels guilty but they were never that close but. but soda??? soda knowing pony ran away from him??

-i think pony would leave some cryptic message in a copy of gone with the wind (ironic) addressed to soda in the cover before he leaves but soda literally doesn’t read so he probably doesn’t find it it for ages. something about how you were the only thing keeping me alive in tulsa but i gotta go be my own person now, get away from all of this shit

-darry turns what remains of pony’s room upside down inside out looking for anything but. there’s absolutely nothing left for him

-pony sends a letter back to soda a couple months later all were safe and sound in new york and we really miss you, sodapop, every day. tell dally new york ain’t as bad as he thought…he oughta give it another shot someday. maybe you too, soda. tulsa ain’t home to people like us, soda, you’ve gotta understand why we had to leave

-he sends his first letter without a return address yet bc he’s not ready for soda to know where he is but the next one!!!

-by then it’s been like six months and pony’s hair is bleach blond (smiles) and he looks healthy for maybe the first time really ever. pony sheepishly coming out from behind his friend in some goofy totally-not-pony outfit (bc he’s fallen in loveeee with fashion. btw.) and soda hugs him so fucking tight he swears he stops breathing for a minute

-you know…darry’s been real choked up since you left. you know he…he gets it, right? he’s like you. n’he’s real torn up you left when he couldn’t, honey.

-maybe you…could bring him here, too. there’s family here for him if..he wants it. he’s just gotta get brave like i did.

[readyplayerhobi]

Because, I Love You | 13

; Genre: Fluff, angst

; Word Count: 2k

; Warnings: References to alcohol use,

; Synopsis: According to society, Jeon Jungkook should not be with you. He should   be with a younger, hotter and thinner girl instead of wasting his time   on you. It’s a good thing Jungkook doesn’t care what society thinks   then.

; A/N: Took a long time for this one! It's not very long but...we all love Jungkook being massive heart eyes for his girl, right?

; Masterlist

-

Jungkook paused in the doorway, half in the bathroom and half in the bedroom. Of all the things he'd expected on his wedding night, it hadn't been to see his new wife sprawled on the bed, fast asleep in her wedding dress.

Yet, there you were.

Smiling, he shook his head slightly before he began the arduous process of removing his tuxedo. It looked good, but there were so many damn buttons everywhere. By the time he was in just his boxers, he let out a sigh of relief at the freedom of not being wrapped up like a present.

Quickly, he pulled on some clean boxers and a plain white shirt before turning to you. Now, how did he resolve this? 

You'd enjoyed yourself throughout the reception - drinking freely with friends and family alike. Although you were trying for a baby, you'd tested negative (yet again) so had decided to fully embrace the evening. Which you most definitely had, and he'd never seen you this drunk before.

As pleased as he was to see you carefree and happy, he'd limited his drinking because of the twist in his stomach. You might deny it, but he knew that you wouldn't have been drinking as much if the day had gone smoother. If his mom hadn't been a bitch of astronomical proportions. So he'd drank enough to be merry, but no more - he wanted to be sober enough in case anything else happened, or if you needed him.

You hadn't for most of the night, except that moment when he thought you were accidentally going to fall into a table full of empty glasses. Now, though, he was glad that he could think pretty straight. He'd swapped to water a while ago, so he wasn't drunk but wasn't sober either.

Which means he has to make sure you go to bed comfortably. You might be sleeping well now, but he's positive you won't enjoy waking up if you're still in your dress and a full face of makeup.

Sighing, he heads back into the bathroom and is glad that you've both decided to save money by coming back home instead of booking a room for a second night. It meant that all the stuff he needed was right here, instead of trying to forage through suitcases.

Grabbing what he needs from your skincare basket, he shuffles back into the bedroom and eyes you once more. The pillows are going to need washing - he can see the makeup has already smeared on the bedding. Something for later.

"Right, let's get you comfy." He mutters to himself, placing the items on your bedside table before crouching beside the bed. You're facing away from him, so he's got relatively easy access to the fastenings at the back of your dress. As much as Jungkook would love to boast that he got you out of your dress fast, it’s actually him five minutes of quiet cursing and frowning. He's half-convinced they sewed into you the damn thing, but finally, the dress is loose enough that he'll be able to get you out.

"Okay, come on baby. Work with me." Jungkook says, sitting on the bed and gently pulling you into a matching position. You instantly fall against him, your face mashed into his neck and he realises he'll probably need to change his shirt again. Shaking his head in amusement, he presses a kiss to your temple before beginning the process of carefully pulling the dress down your arms.

He doesn't want to cause any damage to it, but it's absurdly hard when you're laying like a dead weight against him. After a few minutes of effort - honestly, he should be a lot better at undressing you by now - he lays you down on your back. The dress is now fully off your arms and shoulders, and he carefully pulls it down until it’s passed over your hips and finally your legs.

"Yes!" Jungkook exclaims, before wincing and glancing back over to you. Why he thinks that will wake you up when he's just been jerking you around for five minutes…well it's always the thing you least expect.

Finding a hanger, he slots it into the sleeves of your wedding dress and fastens it just enough to make sure it won't fall off. He doesn't have that fancy bag it came in, so he takes it into the closet and hangs it up. The bottom of it piles on the floor and he twists his lips in annoyance, but there's not much he can do about it.

Heading back out, he grabs one of his oversized shirts before spending the next few minutes wrangling you into it. It's big on you, something he knew you'd be happy about. He'd enjoyed oversized shirts before, but they weren't big enough to be oversized on you. You'd never said anything, but he'd been able to tell that you were upset you couldn't wear his clothes.

So he'd bought even bigger shirts, and the problem was solved. He got to be comfy and you got to wear his clothes without feeling self-conscious. Not that he told you he'd bought them, instead he'd just dressed you one day and smiled at the surprise on your face.

Now, they were your favourite type of pyjamas and leisure wear. After the long day, he was sure you'd be happy to be in some comfy clothes again.

Grabbing the stuff he'd brought from the bathroom, he knelt next to you, crossing his feet as he rested on them and frowned down at it all in his lap. You needed your makeup taken off - he'd learnt long ago that girls didn't like wearing makeup to bed, and given you were probably going to wake up hungover, he wanted to try and make it at least a little better for you.

Chewing his lip ring, he takes out a makeup wipe from the pack and begins to carefully wipe it along your face. Foundation and blusher and other stuff he's vaguely aware of leave your face and stain the wipe. It takes two whole wipes to get all the face makeup off, and he then has to focus on your eyes.

Now he has to be extra gentle. He's watched you do this many times, and he's pretty confident he can do this. Or he hopes so.

All the pretty colour that had enhanced your eyes transfers to the wipe, and he carefully peels the false eyelashes from your eyelids. He's not entirely sure what to do with them, but he presses them onto a clean piece of tissue in case you want to keep them or something.

Finally, you've got a clean face and you haven't even stirred in your sleep.

"Best husband ever." Jungkook whispers to himself, frowning in concentration and biting his tongue as he wets a cotton wipe with cleanser. Sure, he might be doing this wrong, but he's trying! It's the thought that counts.

Next comes your moisturiser, which he carefully dots onto your face before rubbing it in. It amazes him how you don't even twitch as he massages your face, the moisturiser sinking into your skin to give you all the health benefits you lose. After that, he carefully adds some eye cream to your eyelids and under your eyes - you do this every night, and he does pay attention - before coating your lips in some of your lip sleeping mask. The pot is tiny, and his fingers are big, but he manages to not scoop the entire thing out by accident.

Finally, he sat back and looked over his work. Sure, it probably wasn't as in-depth as you would have done it, but it was good enough. Your skin was clean and had that shine it always did after you'd moisturised, the look of health.

He couldn't help the fact that you were likely to wake up feeling like death, but he could at least make sure your skin didn't suffer for the day's activities. If he wasn't so unsure of whether he might accidentally make you choke, he'd try to brush your teeth as well. 

Gathering everything up, he put it all back into their places in the bathroom before brushing his teeth. The movement makes the rings on his finger shine in the light and he can't stop the grin as he looks at them. His friends had thought it a bit odd that he'd got an engagement ring, too, but he hadn't cared. He'd wanted the physical reassurance, and now he had the wedding band to go with it.

If only the day had gone as well as he'd imagined - his anger at his mom was still bubbling underneath everything, and he knew that his therapist was going to have a field day with this when he saw him again. Jungkook knew one thing, though, and that was that he'd never forgive his mom. There were things you didn't do, and today was one of them.

She'd burned the bridge between them both today, and he had no intention of rebuilding it. The last thing he wanted was for her to poison his new marriage and potential future children. She'd had her chance, and she'd ruined it.

Spitting into the sink, he sighs deeply before turning the lights off and walking out. Somehow, you'd managed to wriggle under the covers whilst he'd been in the bathroom and all he could see was the top half of your head, your nose peeking out cutely from the covers. His chest swells once more with love, and he nods to himself.

Yep, he'd made the right decision today. He loved his mom, he did, but he couldn't let her run his life with her venom. Jungkook had a wife now, and one day he'd hopefully have children, who didn't deserve to have someone so cruel and mean in their lives.

Climbing into bed and turning off the light on his bedside table, he shuffles down and lets out a quiet groan as the muscles in his body finally relax. He was young and in the best shape of his life, but the day had been long and tiring.

He’d woken early from nerves, working out frequently to try and shed some energy before the wedding, the wedding itself and then the reception after where he danced and laughed with friends and family. All of that would have tired him out on a normal day - he wasn't exactly Mr Outgoing on the best of days.

But he'd had a lingering tension that had made his body feel like he was standing on a live wire ever since his mom. Despite how everything had carried on smoothly, he'd found himself clenching his jaw and fists many times throughout the night, and his head hurt now.

Taking in a deep breath, he lets it out slowly as he stares at the dark ceiling. His therapist is going to have a fucking field day with all this to unpack.

Blowing out slowly, he rolls onto his side and shuffles closer to you. Normally, the two of you don't sleep cuddled - that's something people who've never shared a bed long-term have done. Your normal positions to sleep were on your sides, back to back. The cuddle was for a few minutes after you got in bed.

But right now, he wanted the inconvenience of it - the dead arm, the overheating, the restless legs and all the other annoying things. Jungkook needed to feel you in his arms, to feel that you were here with him and that the stress and tension of the day were worth it.

Pressing his face into your shoulders, he slid his arm around your waist and managed to wedge his leg between yours. It won't be comfy for long, but he doesn't need long.

As he said, he was tired and he'd always been good at falling asleep. Sure enough, it's only a few minutes before the only sound in the bedroom is the deep breaths of sleep. 

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Okay here's one. I really dont think I'm the asshole but my ex sure does.

AITA for refusing to buy my partner a jar of pickles?

So this story has like, a little background and some confounding factors i think but i really could go both ways on whether i was the asshole.

Ill start with both my ex (21nb) and i (23f) had severe mental health issues and were working on treatment when we were together. Theyd been in and out of inpatient stays throughout our three year relationship. Towards the Day of Pickles, i had my first inpatient stay where i got help i desperately needed to keep myself safe. This happened to be about a week after my 23rd birthday, but about two and a half weeks before their 21st birthday.

Anyway, at that time i had just gotten out of the hospital and started a new job at Joanns Fabrics (i outlived that retail fucker and im proud of it). I had been unemployed for the previous year and a half because of the pandemic and so the retail job was really my saving grace to have some sort of income to buy gas and groceries. My parents let me live rent free with them in their basement but i spent a LOT of time essentially squatting at my ex's dorm because my situation with my parents was not great.

Now my ex was also being financially abused by their mom so they had a monthly "allowance" of 200$ (of their own money they made at their on campus job) and no access to their bank statements. So i spent a lot of my own money on gas and groceries for both of us, and anything we wanted to do for fun, like visit the city. Without an income, this was SUPER stressful for me and i spiraled pretty hard with feelings of worthlessness and hopelessness. Supporting two people, even minimal living expenses, on an income of exactly 0$ is the WORST.

Anyway, i got out of the hospital and pretty much immediately went back to picking up as many shifts as i could at work because id been on staff for all of two weeks before hospitalization. Knowing retail, i was probably on the precipice of losing hours or being fired altogether.

My ex wanted me to take time off to celebrate their 21st birthday (they didnt celebrate my birthday that year) and travel to see their family and drink etc. I got scheduled for an inconvenient time. I would have to miss their birthday if i didnt find someone to cover. I managed to switch shifts with another coworker who was nice enough to let me have her morning shift, so i was able to at least travel separately and be a little late to dinner.

The night of their birthday my ex wanted to get drunk and so we went to the liquor store. Now im generally pretty picky about alcohol but if i get anything special i always get enough to share. Mysteriously, no one ever offers to share the expense or pay me back. So with all of 150$ in my account, i purchased enough alcohol for myself and the rest of the party, and a bottle of (cheap af) liquor for myself. I was broke af until my next paycheck and was pretty much planning on giving up meals and staying at home because the commute to work was shorter and meant less gas.

My ex picked out a jar of boozy pickles and asked if i would get it for them for their birthday. I should note that with all the stress i was under i had found a birthday present for them but hadnt actually placed the order (was waiting to get paid). I also didnt lie to them about this and had told them that i hadnt gotten their birthday present yet. They were upset by this and told me they felt like i didnt care about them, to which i snapped and raised my voice a little.

I gave them a bit of a reality check. I told them in no uncertain terms that i was under a lot of stress, from nearly killing myself to being flat broke with little to no help from my family other than a conditional roof over my head, ordering their birthday present wasnt super high on my list of things to do and that i knew what i was going to get them and that i intended to order it as soon as i had the money to do so. After years of the sole attention being focused on keeping them alive, i needed some support and acting like i didnt care completely ignored EVERYTHING i did to keep us both afloat.They cried and played the victim as they tended to do and i was too stressed to do anything but be angry.

So when they asked for the pickles i told them no. I have NOTHING left in my bank account, and anything that was in my account was already allocated for something else.

They told me i was being selfish for buying myself alcohol on THEIR birthday, not even getting them a present, yelling at them, and then refusing to buy the one thing they asked for, especially after i refused to take off work the day before to hang out with them and their family. In front of our friends.

I told them that i was purchasing the alcohol for the whole party, that the present had slipped my mind, and that they were accusing me of not caring about them when i snapped. Then i walked out.

My bff went outside to help me cool down and i told him what was going on and how stressed i was and he said that he agreed with me, it was childish to expect me to pay for everything with no help from anyone and then act like im unreasonable for having to put limits on what i can purchase.

My ex ended up getting so pissed by all of this they broke up with me two days later, saying that their birthday was the final straw for them after I'd been so codependent and relying on them too much to survive.

I think its all ridiculous given all of the stress factors i was dealing with at the time. I feel like we're all entitled to the occasional emotional outburst/bouts of forgetfulness when we're stressed. But my ex seems to think im a selfish asshole. We've been no contact for the last two years so this isnt like a pressing concern or anything but it does make me roll my eyes occasionally.

So tumblr, aita?

(Btw im also much more financially stable now that I'm fully and properly medicated and away from them.)

[jaysgirlx]

❝ 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄 ❞

❥ pairing: dick grayson x civilian f!reader (part 2 of a series)

❥ summary: dick has to find you after all he put you through you don't deserve what your ex is doing to you.

❥ warnings: moreee angst, fighting, acts of violence, many mentions of depression, anxiety and thoughts of death

❥ wc: 3.8k

"I think the best plan here may be to pay the price, Grayson," says Damian walking into the Batcave, nearly dragging a half-awake Tim.

"That's just dumb, for all we know he'll just use the money to take her away with him. Steph and I will get her back. This guy is clearly a coward" Cass says in an annoyed tone while leaning on Duke who kept quiet.

"What if he has used his own money to hire people to fight us, he can't be that sure that we would actually pay the price," Bruce says interrupting the conversation. "And I do mean "we", y/n is practically family Dick if you decide you want me to pay the ransom we will"

"That's quite a lot of money to risk Bruce," says Barbara "Cass may be right, he might just take her away once he gets the money"

"Stop it you guys, just let me think!" Dick nearly screamed, trying to hold himself together. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see that it was Jason, "I know you're not exactly happy with me right now. But out of all of us, we need to be strong Dick. In a situation like this, we need you as our leader"

Dick didn't know how to feel, of course he needed to be the leader but he couldn't even manage to be a good boyfriend to you. Could he even save you? Were you still even alive? The blood on that envelope had been dried for fucks sake. And Steph had told him she hadn't seen you in 2 months, not since you moved back into your place.

No wonder he couldn't track you, you had been kidnapped for 2 goddamn months, and was his fault. He fucked up and left you alone to heal, he didn't realize how stupid of an idea that was. But for now, he needed to let go of that, he needed to find you and rescue you.

"We're not paying the ransom, even if y/n is still alive…he'll most likely take her with him," Dick says, causing everyone to stop their chatter. "Babs I need you to try and locate them, I know it may be a lost cause but it is our only bet"

He pauses for a second formulating a plan. You had been kidnapped for an estimate of 2 months now and if you were still alive, that meant your ex was still here. Which means he needed money.

"Tim, could you do a background check on y/n's ex? Find out his patterns, if he doesn't get money from me he'll definitely be looking for other ways to obtain some" Tim who was half awake, nodded and opened up his laptop to work alongside Barbara. Dick kept silent for a while before asking the rest of them to try checking abandoned warehouses, or any other places they possibly thought you could be.

Bruce tried talking to Dick but he tuned him out. Over the years he learned how to pick out the bits and pieces Bruce wanted him to hear and ignore the rest but right now he was tuning him out completely. The thought of you being dead made him sick, things weren't supposed to be like this. He was supposed to protect you, he loved you that's all there was to it. He felt a hand on his shoulder and it was Jason. He didn't say anything and that's exactly what Dick needed. He needed a moment to breath and just think.

He knew you ex was crazy but he didn't really know anything else about him. He didn't know if maybe there was a past of crimes he overlooked or maybe your ex was even the man he claimed to be. For fucks sake, he wished he had listen to you more when you talked, when you had practically begged him to. He thought that he was doing you a favor but all he did was put you in danger.

He could only hope that you would forgive him.

It was cold and empty. The air felt harsh to breathe and you never felt so dead. You weren't sure if something was holding you down or if you just couldn't move.

Everything hurt.

There where flickering screens in the background while soft hum got louder and louder. You could barely make out what was happening around you and maybe you didn't even want to know. Your eyes searched the room, you were in a bed covered by what seemed to be a blanket. You were tied down, your body was just weak. Where were you? What time was it? When was the last time you had eaten food? Were you dying?

The flickering screens finally caught your attention and there you saw him standing in front of a bunch of TVs, your ex-boyfriend and all your memories came flooding back. He kidnapped you...how long ago was that? And where were you? Your mind could only think of one person: Dick Grayson. You meant it when you told him, you couldn't be with him any longer but that didn't mean you didn't still love him. You'd be crazy not to when you and Dick had met you not he was some flirty playboy who flirted with every girl until he showed you otherwise. After dumping your crazy ex and going to Divk for comfort, you realized how caring he could be. So you entered a relationship with him with high expectations that he'd always treat you so well and everything between you to have been perfect.

Then he'd started cancelling plans last minute and you knew something was up. Dick didn't like secrets and it was the biggest surprise when he confided in you that he was Nightwing. You were obviously worried, worried one night he wouldn't come home but you accepted him because you loved Dick Grayson, not Nightwing. You met Jason soon after and the two of you hit it off, Dick wasn't fond of the friendship but Jason didn't mind looking after you. Jason saw you like family. Yes, he was dangerous but he knew it would break Dick's heart if anything ever happened to you.

A quiet sob fell from your lips while you thought about Dick. You hadn't even realized your eyes were filled with tears and that your fingernails were digging into your palms. You wanted to cry and shout, but you knew that was dumb. You didn't know if anyone was coming to save you but that didn't mean you wouldn't try and keep yourself alive.

While you tried you calm yourself down, you saw a black figure walking over towards you. You knew it was Roman so you closed your eyes.

Pretend to be asleep.

He won't notice.

You steadied your breaths and allowed them to fall into a pattern while his steps grew heavier and closer. His hand gently stroked your face, making you mentally gag. "You used to be sooooo perfect for me...but then you put your nose where it didn't belong" You felt something cold and thin press across your face. A blade. If you hadn't been scared before you definitely were now.

The fear inside you wasn't just from the blade but more of what he was going to do with you after. You know he isn't going to kill you because he would've done that by now but no possible way he wants to stay in Gotham. Were you still even in Gotham? There were still so many unanswered questions, but all I knew was that this room was decorated with old TVs that it seemed that Roman had been using. Still, all that didn't matter, staying alive and staying put did. If there was any chance you were in Gotham and anybody was looking for you, all you had to do was just hold out a bit longer. Dick would come for you, if anybody would, it had to be him.

The cold feeling of the blade eventually left your face and after a couple sentences of mumbling and mutters, those heavy footsteps finally walked away and slammed a door behind him. A opened your eyes and your breaths became more frantic, you knew for sure now that you were alive and that you could handle this. Small bits of pieces of what you had experienced here popped into your head but you shoved it back down. Now wasn't the time. You need to calm down and think. For all you know staying put may not work. You wanted to still be angry with me but how could you be when all you wanted was to be in his arms again. You need to see him again, even if it's just to hug him.

You needed to see Dick one last time because you were still so hopelessly in love with him.

Dick is standing in front of your favorite cafe. It was on the verge of closing and he could never understand what appeal you found in it. You said the coffee was really good especially when you put a bunch of sugar in it but didn't that apply to most coffee? For a brief moment, he smiled at the thought of maybe being able to share coffee with you like that. Just one last time, if you'd still have him.

Dick had always been fascinated by you. You were so accepting of him and his family and there was never a moment where he doubted your love. He never meant to accuse you of cheating, if he could take it back he would. If he could re-do that entire night over, he'd do it properly. He'd apologize for canceling your date and explain to you how he had been feeling for your safety. He shouldn't even have let you go that night, he should have told you the truth.

For the last month, while Tim and Barbara endlessly searched Gotham's cameras CCTV, and public records the rest of the siblings spent their free time tearing through every abandoned warehouse in hopes of finding you but they failed every single time. Every day Dick contemplated paying the ransom and risking losing you if you weren't already gone. He needed you back and he wasn't the only one worried about you.

Your parents were worried sick, all they know is that you were kidnapped but it still hurts them. Your relationship with them may not have been the greatest but that didn't mean they wanted to lose you completely. They never liked Dick, they tried to be supportive but Dick once showed up. He knows now how badly he mistreated, how much he fucked up. All you did was love and care for him and he let you down time and time again but wouldn't this time. He was going to find you and never leave your side again.

He left the cafe and went towards the phone store nearby. Dick had bought you your latest phone but never got around to connecting it to Barbara's location system which tracks all of them including Bruce. Which meant he had to go to that store and see if they could track it using the information when it was bought. He even managed to find the box it came in in your apartment.

He was able to find out that your phone was either dead or broken because it was disconnected. He thought he had reached another dead end until the cashier said its last location was tracked which was supposedly a play near Gotham's most popular TV company's buildings. The only abandoned one is the former headquarters but just getting into there is difficult, there is no way you'd be there and no one knew right?

He left with that thought on his mind and a cup of disgusting coffee full of sugar.

The quiet hum of the computers and the small chat between his sibling filled the room while Dick tried to eat his dinner. He picked at the fried rice Jason had picked up for him and the rest of his family. All it did was remind him of you and the way you always wanted to order out instead of eat something home cooked. It wasn't cause you were bad at cooking but more because you loved trying new foods every once in a while. Dick bit down on his tongue hard, tasting a cold metallic taste that barely brought him back to reality.

It had been nearly a month since you had gone missing. Daimen thought you were dead. Cass and Steph kept going through your apartment, looking for something to stop them from giving up. Jason was silent. Bruce was angry, he saw you as the perfect fit for Dick. He had never seen his son happier. Babs knows you're a survivor, you wouldn't die on her like that.

"Dick, snap out of it", Barbara said slowly reeling him back into reality. You and her had always gotten along so well, especially after Barbara got shot, you were there for her like a sister. That when he knew, that's exactly when Dick knew he was in love with you and couldn't handle watching people he cared about in pain. "Tim and I found some stuff...we have good news and bad news"

"Just tell me" He grunted out, whatever it was he could handle it, as long as there was a chance you were alive. You had to be alive, you still loved him and he had so many apologies to give you once he had you back into his arms again.

"Once I hacked the CCTV of y/n's apartment I was able to get a couple of photos of this "Roman Jennings" guy and I had Tim cross-reference them with what we knew already knew about him.." she paused as if what she said next could break Dick "This guy doesn't exist in Gotham. Not only do no records tie to him...there's no information on him anywhere"

Dick knew that most of Roman's murders had been made look like suicides and hadn't been caught but he hadn't realized that maybe "Roman Jennings" doesn't exist and that they might've been following a false lead the entire time. How could he waste a month on this? What if she's really dead-

Calm down, Grayson.

Worrying will get you nowhere.

"I'm guessing that's the bad news?"

"Yup, the good news is that, on the cameras near that abandoned TV company's old headquarters, I found the same guy leaving and entering the building every day for the last 6 weeks. I'm not completely sure but I think that's our guy" Dick was sure he heard her completely but that didn't matter. Your phone had last been located in that area and it was the only lead they had. He knew you didn't have much time and there was no way he was just going to sit here and wait.

"I'm going to check it out, Babs sends me the coordinates," Dick said as he put down the food on the counter. The silence that was surrounding him, should've been a sign that for the words that come next but Dick just couldn't think about all that right now. He needed to get to you, bring you home. Bruce felt a need to interject but he felt that it wasn't his place. But Jason had no problem with interfering especially in this situation, "Y'know you're not going in alone right? And definitely not without a plan"

Jason grabbed onto Dick's arm, roughly pulling him away from the door. The tension between them had never been resolved, no matter how many times Jason tried to make it clear that he never had any romantic feelings for you. Jason saw you as family and tried to be there for you especially since most of the time you got upset because of Dick. Bruce was ready to step in now, seeing as Dick was now angry, stressed, and running on practically no sleep. Dick rips his hand away in anger and pushes Jason, "Jason I really don't need your opinion on this, y/n has been trapped for almost 3 fucking months now. If I don't go right now, she could die"

"If you go in alone and angry, you might just be the reason she dies. Do not fuck this up for the rest of us" It hadn't really occurred to Dick that maybe this wasn't just about him and that the rest of the family had cared about you. Dick had always seen Jason as a wedge between the two of you but he never really thought he actually cared. He thought Jason just did it to mess with him. Before Dick could even respond, Steph spoke up, "She's our family too Dick, we all want her home but we have to do this right"

"Y'know she's the only one, I can talk to about menial matters," Damian says quietly, "She made it easy to just talk about those small things even the stupid ones" Maybe the stress of the situation had caused him to forget how much of positive impact you had on his family and how much this was affecting them. "Look I'm sorry guys I just…

"Want her back?" Bruce says looking over at him "we all do, so just give us a couple more hours to plan how we're getting inside and what we will do?"

Duke who had been quite quiet finally speaks up, "I think you should rest Dick. If you're going to be the one to get her out of there you need rest. Proper rest"

"I second that!!" Cass says, appearing from behind Duke. All Dick could do was nod, he was tired and stressed and just needed a little bit of sleep. He left with a weak smile and found of the guest rooms in the manor. Once he hit the best he was out like a light. That night he dreamt of you, your smile, your cute hobbies, your contagious laughter, and more. While he slept he dreamt of you, kissing you, loving you and even marrying you. Dick Grayson was utterly in love with you and couldn't wait any longer for you to come home to him.

The next morning after that was stressful, to say the least. Barbara and Tim had calculated the best time to infiltrate the headquarters when Roman wasn't there. Except that was during daytime which meant no Nightwing. Attracting attention could only get more people hurt and Dick wasn't going to risk it. Jason, Cass, and Steph agreed to come along while Damian was on standby with Duke and Bruce. Tim and Barbara would be feeding Dick information through an earpiece and would be doing the same for everyone else.

Their plan wasn't perfect but it was the best they had. Dick would in with Steph, while Jason and Cass stayed outside to not only stop Roman from entering but also catch him. Jason and Cass had no problem being ruthless if they had to be but since there was still light out they would have to keep a low profile. Officer Gordon borrowed them police uniforms which they hoped would be enough to scare Roman away if he even sees them. If not, they were ready to fight if it came to that.

Dick and Steph quietly entered the abandoned building, they went through a back door Tim was able to locate after finding the building's original floor pans. The entire building was very old and quite huge so, Tim mapped out the building for them so it would be easier for you to be found. If you were even in there. Inside the building was extremely cold but it didn't seem abandoned. It actually looked like a home. Which was a good sign, it confirmed someone was staying here. It meant there was a chance you were here. "Did she talk about me?" Dick asked Steph, trying to break the harsh silence. The two hadn't spoken up since the two of you had broken up. Steph didn't take sides but she wasn't exactly happy to hear how Dick was treating you and behaving.

"Depends, what are you willing to hear"

"Anything at this point"

Steph was quiet for a while, the two of you had searched through about 2 offices and 4 other open spaces and nothing had come out of her mouth. Dick was just about to let it go just before Steph finally spoke up, "She hated loving you. Not in a bad way, just in a way that made her miserable but feel ungrateful. She thought that she was difficult to love especially since you had been the one to approach her. She hated fighting with you but she hated the thought of her not being enough more"

Dick knew he had fucked up at every turn of your relationship but he hadn't realized how much that really had affected you. how much damage he did. In his mind he was just hurting himself but this whole time you had been the one suffering. "We all have underlying issues Dick so not everything that went wrong was on you and believe me y/n really loved you. After she'd been done ranting, she'd always think of how happy you made her and how sweet you were to her when you actually showed up. There's no doubt she would have married you"

"Would have?"

"You accused her of cheating Dick, she loved you endlessly and you just threw it in her face," Steph said after checking another room that was once again empty. "You hurt her in a way that shouldn't be forgiven and you'd be very lucky if she did forgive you"

"I know, I know! I would do anything to take back what I said to her, what I did to her. Do you know what I would give to be able to restart our entire relationship from the beginning? Do you know what I would give to open this next door and believe she's in it?" Dick kicked open the door in anger, the room was filled with lit-up TVs that seemed to be surveilling the abandoned building and parts of Gotham.

Dick wasn't sure if was he hallucinating from all the anger, stress, and need but there you were in what seemed to be an air mattress with a blanket and a book. You looked weak, like you hadn't eaten much but you seemed okay? Like you weren't hurt physically because Dick knew the deepest scars were always mental.

"y/n?"

Your name barely left his lips but it was just loud enough for you to hear. You turn to look at him and first he can see the surprise on your face and the relief but that quickly changes to a soft smile. A smile that could break his heart and fix it in an instant. A smile that he hopelessly missed. Dick never stopped loving you and he could only hope you still loved him and maybe, just maybe in that moment that's all that matters.

❥ taglist: @meowkn, @kazzattack @chichinaylo, @yourlocalcringydaydreamer, @orchidsangel, @nia-jul, @mayfieldss, @millyhelp

[dozing-marshmallow]

~VISITING CHRIS MCLEAN IN JAIL~

(Months in his sentence.)

It was quite scary, walking down the aisle of inmates. You made sure to stick close to the guard escorting you to Chris’ cell. The place reeked of alcohol and sweaty bodies, flaming your nostrils, making you solely rely on your mouth for breathing. So much rubbish was thrown between floors, loud chattering from other prisoners bursted the air. Walking down, you heard too many lewd comments passing about you. 

Yikes...

Further down, you could recognise Chris’ laughter.

”How has he been doing?”

The guard thought it better to show you.

There he was. Your favourite man in tangerine.

Rather than metal bars, he was behind transparency. Isolation?...

God, he was meant to be a prisoner, not have his ravishing lifestyle still concur because he happened to have money. His wealth was as self absorbed as he was, needing to radiate everywhere, even in a time where it was simply not enough to save him. In comparison to the single bed and toilet most imprisoned busybodies were limited to, for starters, there on his wall was four portraits, two of them being of the island, one being himself, the other one being the wedding day. That may have been the most selfless act he’s done yet. We then have his toy statues of himself, you and Chef on his shelf, too self promoting to be part of the utilities of the prison...and two rolls of toilet paper. Some prisoners are lucky to even get one.

He was sitting at the edge of his flat bed, looking shallow, but when he saw you, oh man, did he get excited.

”(Y/N)!” He yelled, jumping up and onto the glass that separated you. His hands pressed onto the door and saliva already slipped out his mouth at the sight of you,”(Y/N)... You...You actually came...to see me!”

”Hey Chris...” it was so uncanny to see him without that necklace,“How are you? I have a present for you!” you marginally lift the sealed box to him... Well, half sealed since it had to be checked first. The look on those officers’ faces... You would never forget it. It was bizarre, yes, but it was allowed.

”Presents!” his excitement overflown,“You know I love presents, nothing without them! Give me, give me, give me!”

”Uh...” you saw the slot was too small for your box.

“What’s the matter? Can’t find the right pair?”

The guard that assisted you kindly took the gift and handed it to him via cautiously opening the door. Chris didn’t have any intention to assault anyone, for his mind was too preoccupied with glee as he hurriedly went to open it, only to be greeted by anarchy.

”Larry?”

”Yeah...” you beam sadly, catching sight of Larry’s green head, peering curiously out from the box,“They were able to make him shrink and I knew you were lonely in here. I would visit you everyday if I could, but the rules state that if I did, it could mean your sentence would have to double.”

“Bummer. Thooough I wouldn’t wanna stay in here any longer than I need to! For whatever stupid reason. Now that I have my best friend in the whole world! Even though I told you to take care of him...” there he goes with that glare.

Not even a damn thank you,”Sorry Chris... But it’s better I give him back to you before the environment protection crew cleansed him too much. And I don’t know how I could take care of Larry.... Besides, he would be more happy with you than with me.”

”You’re forgiven, my absolute darling!” He set Larry down on his table before returning back to the door,”Sooo, what’s new with you? It feels like it’s been ages since we had any quality time together!”

“Erm... I’ve been better...” doubt weighed your words; it was hard to keep eye contact with your husband when his eyes were endlessly wide. Not knowing what else to do, you stupidly return the question.

“Good, good...” he hums, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the glass,“How’s Chef? Dead or something?”

“Chris!” You exclaim. Your husband always had some sadism, but most of the time, it was out of humour. Disturbingly, it was almost like Chef’s death was something he wanted,”How could you suggest something so horrible so casually? Especially on your friend?”

He shrugged,”What can I say? He hasn’t come see me in a while. Or maybe he has, but I just can’t see him because he’s like a ghost. Do you reckon he could float through this glass like how they do in the movies?”

“No... Thankfully, not.” you decide to leave out Chef rejecting your offer to accompany you in visiting Chris that day,“Chef’s been...busy.”

“Busy? Busy dying?” you hysterically shake your head,“Huh...” his eyes trail off to the side, slightly relaxing,“Have you ever realised that we slowly die everyday?”

You shudder. Death was such a lighthouse for Chris to ingest. Here though? Where everyday was the same thing, with a mere minute feeling like an hour? You knew this couldn’t be good for him,“Stop talking like that... You know that’s not how you really feel.”

He raises an eyebrow,“Oh, but what if it is? I no longer fear the deaths of the people I supposedly care about.”

“Is that right?” Supposedly? You were heartbroken.

“Oh! But I still love you. A lotttttt. Trust me!” His sight quickly returns back to you, springing a large smile on his face. There was something strange about it, but you fought that thought by giving a reciprocal.

“I...love you too.” why was it so hard to say it back?

“Really? Really... Really!” He places his hands whole back on the glass, going completely quiet as he stared at you. Just staring. You would’ve thought he spaced out, but his eyes were well aware of your being, standing before him, patient. Eventually, he starts speaking again with a soft tone,”Ohh...I can’t wait...to sleep in my own cottage again with you...to touch your hair...to touch you...”

Don’t dream about it so soon...,“Me too Chris... I... The bed feels so empty without you.”

“I have a solution for that!” he chimes. Whenever Chris is this inspired, you know it’s not gonna be nice,“Why don’t you do something unreasonable and end up in here with me? After all, I did nothing wrong to be here! I blame all those people who can’t take a joke nor know how to mind their business! All my accusers were nothing but absurd! It’s not my fault the island ended up the way it did! Besides, it was totally worth the ratings! Genius, am I right?”

Still thinking like a host, are we Chris?,“I-I’m good... I don’t think they would let us be bunkmates anyway, especially if you’re in...solitary confinement.”

“Oh yeah? Even if I threw up a thousand big ones for them?“ he scoffs,“Suit yourself. I guess I’m gonna have to continue pretending that my pillow is you. Your fault too.”

“What...” he’s not joking as well. That struck a nerve,“How is it my fault you chose to sell the island to that toxic waste company?”

“Come on!” his face stretches like it’s common sense,“No one could have expected something like that to happen! It was a complete fluke! No one can be blamed for that, especially not me!”

Of course he was going to make himself the victim: he’s worn nothing but orange for the past few months, couldn’t live by his own agenda and was constantly surrounded by people. Poor little Christian, the tragedy king, hasn’t life been hard on him,“That’s the thing though, isn’t it, Chris? The island was your stewardship and it was your decision to sell it to them. The only person to blame is-“

With the slam of his hand, a wobbly echo of glass emits through your body, leaving your words untied,“Don’t you scold me! You‘re the one that came to visit me, and I know I didn’t sign up to hear you forcing the blame on me for something that was out of my hands! It was out of my estimations, okay? Ugh!”

It took a lot to keep it together. This is exactly why you could never communicate properly with him. Why couldn’t he just slim his ego and accept that jail was his fault for once?! No one else was going to serve jail for him, maybe Chef was right in avoiding Chris,“Fine whatever, have it your way.” you glance down at your wrist, where the watch Chris asked you to keep safe for him buckled,“It seems that my visiting time is up anyway.”

“Aw, seriously? You just got here!” he huffs, magically getting over the heat of the argument,“Could you promise to bring some chocolate next time you visit? It'd be a reaaaaaaally great birthday gift.”

That’s right, it is coming up soon. You nod,“I’ll have to make sure it’s fine with the police officers first, but I’m sure they’ll allow it.”

He’s certain of it,"Course it'll be! They'd allow me to keep portraits in here, but not chocolate? Barbaric!" Certainty. His hamartia.

“Hah, that’s true.” first time in ages you both found something to agree on,“Well... Take care, Chris. I’ll be on my way now.” You turn on your heel and would have accelerated, had it not been for the man in question’s interesting choice of parting words.

“No kiss? Boooooo.”

You twirl back around, trying to figure out the best way to break it down to him,“We... We can’t-“

A disgusted sigh of his plagues your sentence,“I’m not a bird, (Y/N). Tweet tweet! I can tell there’s glass here. Erm...” he was in the spotlight of improvising, which he’s lived through dozens of times,“Let's do this..." he puts his fingers up to his lips and on removal, he whistled an exhale.

On cue, you hold up a hand and clench it like you had caught it, and done the same. Chris shook from exultation on process, the orange clothing his body clothing his mind in that moment.

"Awesome! See, she still does love me! (Y/N) could never abandon me." for a minute, his voice swooned with profound romance that you founded with him once upon a time. He turns away to the side and smiles, the lovey dovey flying away,"What will happen when our hostess comes next? Will I still be behind bars? Will I get to eat chocolate bars? All the answers soon to be revealed, right here on Total...Drama...Island!”

You take that as your cue to leave. He had gone to another world. Man made. Chris had never done stuff like that before... 

"Hey kitty, what about my kiss? Big Randy over here would like one too." Randy or one of the other prisoners tried coaxing you a few steps in on your exit of the institution of criminals, lust painted all over his oily face.

"Eugh." you stick a finger to your gagging mouth to the stranger prisoner's distaste.

The inhale of the outside air was all the cure you needed from the red-blooded fumes of that place.

Talking to the wall... Would it really be okay to let Chris back on the streets like that? Was prison even a good place for rehabilitation? On one hand, yes, it was about time Chris had felt the weight of his crimes, but on the other hand, was forcing it down his throat the best way to get him to willingly amend?

You won’t be surprised if after his release, he went on to joyfully add onto his record, which was kind of unfortunate- he was your husband. 

And you want him to come home.

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

DP X DC WRITING PROMPT #9

(An idea I had late last night when I should have been sleeping)

(#) = Notes at the end of post

(*) = Just me building off of other ideas

✦

Lost Children Saved by the Lost

After being rejected by his parents and almost captured for experimentation, Danny escapes into the Ghost Zone. He wanders listlessly for nobody knows how long. It could have been days, months, years, but he wouldn't know how much time had actually passed.

He missed his friends, his sister, hell even his bully. However, the longer he wandered, the more he began to forget their voices, their facial features. Everything. He couldn't even remember what his obsession was. He wandered so long that the only thing he remembered was the aching and devastating feeling of his parents rejection of half of himself.

Eventually growing bored of the neverending expanse of the Ghost Zone, he takes a random portal and winds up in the DC Universe. Although, not in modern times. He finds himself hundreds of years in the past but couldn't find it in himself to care.

At least until he hears the cries of a child in distress. He goes searching and finds a little boy, weeping while curled up on the filthy ground, begging for his parents. The boy was emaciated, clearly not having had food in a very long time. His core jolted and ached at the pitiful cries. Was this his obsession? What was he supposed to do?

He only hesitates for a moment before he approaches the crying boy.(1) The boy flinches at the movement of shadows before looking up to meet the aurora green eyes of a man made of starlight.

"Hello, little one." He greets softly, automatically speaking the boy's language he heard only moments before. (2) "What's wrong?"

The boy is quiet as he wearily examines the man before him. Long hair the color of snow illuminated by moonlight. Olive skin that seemed to have a blue tint to it. The pointed ears and the loose, black clothes that seemed to have the cosmos playing across them. The most striking of all the man's features, however, were the rays of blue-green light flowing from his back like the tails of comets racing across the night sky. Despite the light they exuded, the wings seemed to absorb the heat from the air, letting off a cool but pleasant temperature. (3) The boy gazed cautiously into the man’s eyes, looking past his odd features, and found only kindness as well as a strange, deep-seated sadness. No matter how his mind said no one can be trusted, his gut said the man meant no harm. He decided to respond to the strange man's question.

"My parents," he began, stopping to wet his painfully dry lips. "They don't have money for food. They left me here because I am too much of a burden to keep."

The boy looked down, avoiding the man's eyes as if ashamed. His words made the man's core ache even more than before, vague and foggy memories flashing briefly behind his eyes. His core pulsed in his chest, urging him to do something. He didn't know what exactly, so he simply said the first thing that came to mind.

"Now that won't do. How about we look for others who would take care of you instead?" He said as he gently picked up the small boy and carried him cradled in his arms. The boy stares up at him as the man walked with his head held high and looking forward.

"Who are you, mister?"

The man's eyes became clouded as he mulled over the question before answering, carefully measuring his words.

"I've long forgotten what my name was. It's been so long since anyone's called me by it." He said, with sadness coloring his tone. They walked in silence for a couple of seconds before the man seemed to brightened a little. He looked at the little boy with soft, green eyes and a smile. "Why don't you choose a name for me, little one?"

The boy gained a look of concentration as he took the request seriously. The man continued walking in silence as he let the boy think, eyes forward as he searched for a family to take the boy in. His core was tugging him towards one particular house, practically singing as he came to a stop in front of the door. (4) He leaned down to gently set the boy on his feet before he himself kneeled to the boy's level.

Hands on either side of the boy's face, he kissed the child's forehead. Silently, he placed a blessing on the boy, a faint glow that went unseen to mortal eyes. He wished for the boy to know true love and happiness. For his parent's abandonment to leave no scars on his mind or in his heart. With that, he stood up once again and knocked on the door.

"Goodbye, little one. I've done what I can." He said as he turned to walk away.

"Wait!" The boy called out. The man stopped and looked back with a curious light in his eyes, the stars on his clothes seeming to briefly brighten as well. Once the boy saw he had his attention again, he continued.

"I thought of a name for you. If you'd like to hear it?" He askes hopefully.

The starlit man smiled, before nodding. "I'd be happy to hear what you've come up with."

The boy brightened up before opening his mouth to speak once more, hurrying as he heard footsteps approaching from the other side of the door.

"What do you think of..." (5)

✦

Whelp. That was interesting.

Notes:

(1) Should the boy be an actual character that's established in the DC Universe or just a random child?

(2) When I thought of this, I was thinking Danny wound up somewhere in Ancient Rome. So, I think he'd be speaking Latin here.

(3) Comets are made of stardust and ice, which means they are also cold instead of hot. At least until they're warmed by the sun. I thought it was quite fitting, honestly. They also are often seen to give off a blue-green color! How cool it that? Ha!

(4) Danny's obsession is so ragged and starved after wandering for so long that it latches onto the first thing it could to give it a jumpstart. Protecting lost children (lost in one way or another) and leading them to families who would actually care for them. He is the one who urged Martha and Johnathan Kent to adopt Clark. He helps Billy Batson eventually find a forever home. This even plays a role in how Bruce meets each of the Robins. Jason will be the first and only child Danny ever fails to give a permanent home to because of Jason's feelings towards Bruce over his death. Danny adopt Jason?

(5) When I was thinking of what the boy would name him, I immediately gravitated to the names of stars, which seems pretty obvious considering how I described Danny here. Anyway, what I chose was Regulus because it's a blue-white star and the brightest one in the constellation Leo, also called the Lion's Heart. Not only that, but the Latin meaning of Regulus translates to "little king" or "prince". Not to mention it's also a common name among Saints. You don't have to use the name Regulus tho! Come up with anything you want to call him!

(*) Should Danny just be an immortal patron saint of orphans and lost children, or should he be upgraded to a patron God?

[negans-lucille-tblr]

My Worthless Love || Part Two

Summary: At first, Dean can’t believe his luck that he gets to date a porn star, but soon the cracks start to show, and Dean gets to see a totally different side to the industry that bursts his bubble and leaves him torn. 

Rating: 18+

Part Tags: angst, mentions of sex, being used for sex, hints of foreboding, fluff, romance, heart to heart

Part WC: 2753

My Worthless Love Masterlist || Read this fic in full when you subscribe!

Your POV

You’re still thinking about your date with Dean as you sit yourself down at your dressing table in front of your vanity, reaching for your hairbrush to detangle your freshly washed hair. You sigh heavily, wondering if he’ll get bored of you soon enough, and knowing there’s only so many times you can expect him to be a perfect gentleman before he gets bored and finds a girl who isn’t an idiot and will fuck him on the first date. But you’d promised yourself this time it would be different. This time, the guy you date will be different, and the only way to ensure that is to make him wait. 

You think about that drunk guy you’d walked past who clearly recognised you, and you smile softly when you remember Dean moving to your other side to protect you from him. You remember Dean brushing it off as just a drunk man trying to hit on an attractive woman, and how he didn’t seem to bat an eye at any of the other men whose attention you’d grabbed that night or the two dates before that, either. Either you’ve been extremely lucky and Dean extremely naive, or he knows your little secret, and he’s just biding his time. 

In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if the guy that works for him at his workshop – Justin you think you remember him saying – hasn’t pieced it together yet. Maybe Justin being a bit too friendly with a few too many women has been your saving grace this time. But it’s only a matter of time now. Dean’s going to find out eventually, and you’d rather that come from you. So maybe it’s time to come clean, and show him the side of you that you wish you didn’t have to. 

Your phone ringing cuts through the silence of the room and the noise of your mind, and you realise that you’ve only been brushing one section of your hair the entire time you’d been in thought. Clearing your throat, you put your brush down and grab your cell, sighing slightly at the name that’s flashing on the screen. 

“Hey, Dick, what’s up?” you ask, trying to sound more enthusiastic than you are. 

“Hey baby,” he practically cheers down the phone in his usual over enthusiastic patronising tone he always speaks to you in. “Listen, sweetheart, it’s been three days, pressure’s on to take this job.” 

You sigh heavily at the very reminder. You’d been so caught up in Dean recently, you’d actually forgotten about that. 

“C’mon, baby, you know the deal. You refuse this and the company won’t hire you again, that’s half your work gone,” he tries to push. 

“Dick, c’mon, you know I don’t like that guy,” you remind him, playing with a loose strand of cotton on your bathrobe.  

“We’ve all gotta do jobs we don’t like doing, Y/N,” Dick replies a lot more bluntly this time. 

“Dick,” you try to reason, already getting frustrated. “You know what he’s like… you’re meant to be looking out for me, not pushing me to work with assholes like that.” 

“No, I’m meant to be getting you work, but I can’t fuckin’ do that if you’re turning down scenes left, right and centre. This affects my pay too, y’know,” he huffs. “Just be a big girl, suck it up and do one fuckin’ scene with the guy, okay?” 

You purse your lips, not wanting to give in or even compromise, but you know that Dick is right. If you turn down this scene, then the company is less likely to book you for other scenes, and then you’ll barely have any work or money.

“Fine, but I want them to be clear on my limits list, okay?” you press, waiting desperately for Dick’s confirmation. 

“Sure, I’ll make sure they get it. I’ll send you the details for the shoot in the morning, get some rest.” 

You roll your eyes knowing he can’t see it and hang up, throwing your phone back down onto the dresser clumsily as you clench your jaw and try to calm yourself back down. Once again you focus on brushing your hair, moving on to applying your skin care as you try to distract yourself with thoughts about Dean once again. But it’s no use, Dick has officially put you in a bad mood, and the thought of your new upcoming job is keeping you on edge. 

Your phone once again begins to ring, and you’re just annoyed enough that you snatch it up without looking at the screen first. 

“What?” you bark down it. 

“Oh hey, urm, sorry, is this a bad time?” 

Instantly you relax a little upon hearing Dean’s voice on the other end, and you take a deep breath and pinch the bridge of your nose to relieve some of the tension there. 

“Sorry, I thought you were someone else, what’s up?” you pry softly, trying to remain calm. 

“I urm… I know it’s late, but I was hoping we could meet up and talk?” he asks awkwardly. 

“Dean, it’s almost midnight, we were together like two hours ago, what’s going on?”

“I just really think we should talk about something,” he tries again. 

Your mind is too much of a mess to figure out just what Dean might be talking about. Maybe he’s hoping a late night call will change your mind about not fucking him on third date. Maybe he’s finally ready to admit he knows your secret. Maybe there’s something else entirely, but either way, now you’re intrigued, and it’s certainly taking your mind off of Dick and your new job. 

“I don’t wanna get dressed up again,” you argue with a sigh. “Look, just come to my place, I’ll text you the address.” 

You figure your apartment is the best place to be. You can throw him out if the conversation doesn’t go the way you want it to, and it means you don’t have to make too much effort to get ready and go out at this hour. Though as you hang up, you realise you should at least put some clothes on under your robe, and maybe a touch of make up. The guy has never seen you not dressed up for a date, so he doesn’t need that shock at midnight. 

You text him your address as promised and settle for putting on some simple sleep shorts and tank top under your robe, hoping if you look ready for bed, he won’t take too long and will leave again once he’s said whatever it is that’s so important. Pouring yourself a large glass of wine, you figure you’ll need it as you try your best to relax on the couch and await Dean’s arrival, wondering just what the hell he might want to talk about.  

As you sit and watch Dean bouncing his leg and looking around your apartment for what might be the hundredth time, you consider breaking the silence yourself, starting to get a little irritated that he hasn’t just spat it out already. 

“Really is a nice place,” he compliments for the fourth or fifth time; you’ve lost count now. “Much nicer than my apartment. Urm… what do you do again to afford something like this?”

As soon as Dean braves looking you in the eye after his bold question, you know exactly why he’s here and take a deep breath. 

“I think you know,” you reply softly, your heart beginning to thud just a little bit harder as your mind now begins to race, coming up with all the different ways this could go from here. You’re more disappointed than you thought you’d be at the prospect of Dean being just another guy that’s discovered your secret and wants personal gain from it. 

“I might’ve found out,” he confesses, clearing his throat and looking away as a blush begins to stain his cheeks. 

“And?” you prompt, not able to tell from just looking at him exactly how he feels about it. You’re still not even sure how long he’s known. 

“And I figured we should talk about it,” Dean counters. “Can I– Can I get a beer or something, my mouth is like… really dry,” he starts to fluster. 

“Sure,” you nod softly, getting up to head over to the fridge in the kitchen, glancing back over your shoulder as you watch him bouncing his leg even more violently than he had been. 

Clearly the guy is nervous about the whole thing, but he must realise he’s got the upper hand here, right? You’re the one that’s been caught out in a lie here – Not a lie, just a half truth, you remind yourself as you twist off the caps of both beers and make your way back over to the couch. You hand him his beer and smile nervously at him, before sitting back down, telling yourself that you didn’t exactly lie at any point about what you do for a living. 

You’d gotten good at avoiding the subject over time, and that didn’t change on your dates with Dean. You’d let him talk about his garage and fixing cars, and then distract him with more questions about himself before he could ask you what you do in return. And it’s not like you wouldn’t have ever told him. If things were going to start looking like they were getting more serious, you’d have come clean eventually. It’s just not exactly a good first date conversation, and you wanted to be sure that he actually liked you and not just the thought of you. 

“So how long have you known?” you pry, focusing on playing with the edge of the sticker on your bottle. 

“I found out tonight, after our date,” he confesses. 

“Was it that guy that recognised me?” you wonder, wanting to know just how you’d given it away. 

“No, but that and the guy walking into the door does make a lot more sense now…” he half laughs, though you can tell he doesn’t actually find it all that funny, so you’re not off the hook just yet. “I urm… well, I was kinda gonna… y’know… blow off some steam, and I accidentally found you.” 

Dean’s cheeks only turn darker yet, and you almost find it cute that he’d be so embarrassed about that given what you’re talking about and who he’s talking to. 

“I see,” you nod, finally understanding. You’re not exactly one of the big names, so you realised the chances of him finding you accidentally were slim, but not impossible, and if he really had no idea who you were before that, maybe this is some cruel twist of fate that he’s found out this way. “So, let me guess,” you sigh, sitting up a little straighter. “You found out what I do for a living and now you’re wondering why a professional slut wouldn’t even put out for you on the third date?” 

You realise that your accusation is a little crass and a whole lot unfair, but you’ve been down this road with guys before. As soon as they’ve found out about your job, they’ve changed. As much as you’d like Dean to be the exception, you’re not holding your breath that he will be. You bravely look him right in the eyes when he doesn’t immediately answer, noticing them widen at your question as he instantly shakes his head. 

“That’s not why I’m here,” he tries to defend.   

“It’s fine, Dean, you don’t have to pretend to be some Prince Charming, I’ve been here before.” You don’t even mean for your tone to be so aggressive, but it is, and you start to realise just how angry you are to be in this position yet again. Maybe you should give up on dating altogether, just accept that men only want one thing from you. At least then you can’t be disappointed.  

“What?” Dean frowns, his own voice starting to raise, his tone hardening just a little.  “I never said–” he cuts himself off. “Hang on, why are you the one that’s pissed with me? I’m the one that just found out that the girl I’m dating fucks men on camera for the whole world to see and she didn’t even tell me!” 

“But she won’t fuck you, right? That’s what’s bothering you about all this?” you argue back. “You know what, Dean? Fine, I’ll fuck you, let you have something to brag to all your little friends about, but don’t expect a fourth date after this.” 

You rise to your feet and pull the tie on your robe, letting it hang loose to expose your pyjamas underneath, and Dean also rises to his feet, now frowning even deeper than before. 

“No, that’s not why I’m here,” he insists once more. “Does it hurt my ego a little that you didn’t wanna sleep with me? Sure, but I’m a big boy, Y/N, I got over it pretty damn quick. What bothers me, is that you weren’t just honest about it,” he retorts. 

“Can you blame me, Dean?” you implore, feeling pent up frustration turning into something else – something sad and heavy in your chest. “This happens every time. In fact, I don’t know why I’ve not learned my lesson yet, maybe this is all my fault, after all.” 

“What happens, Y/N?” Dean presses, frustrated. “A guy gets upset because you lied to him?” 

“No, a guy I’m dating finds out what I do, and suddenly that’s all he sees… and it’s all he wants from me.” 

Dean opens his mouth, but no sound comes out yet. He shuts it again and takes a deep breath, looking down at the beer bottle in his hand before gently placing it down on the coffee table. He steps closer, and bites down on his plump bottom lip for a moment before opening his mouth and trying again. 

“Okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t think about it like that,” he confesses with another blush. “I guess I was hurt that I’ve been nothing but honest with you, and I thought you’d been the same. I’m not used to dating like this, Y/N. I’m normally the asshole that only wants one thing, but you’re different, and I like you… and I’m not just saying that because I know what you do now. If we’re being completely honest, normally I wouldn’t even have the patience to make it to a third date.” 

You giggle slightly at his brutal honesty, appreciating it far more than all those guys that just pretend to be different to the rest but really only want one thing. And there’s a sincerity about him that makes you believe him when he says he really didn’t know before tonight, and that he really did like you even before he found out. 

“I get it now,” he reassures you, stepping closer again. “You didn’t want me to be like them… and I won’t be… not with you.” 

“Please don’t be,” you beg him quietly, not even thinking about just how fragile and vulnerable it makes you to ask something like that of him. 

“I promise I like you for you, Y/N,” he confirms, “or I wouldn’t be thinking about a fourth date, or how much I wanna kiss you right now and then go straight home afterwards, just so I can prove to you that I’m different.”  

“So my job doesn’t bother you?” you check, feeling your own cheeks heat up. 

“I mean… I’d rather my girlfriend didn’t show everything she owns on camera while sleeping with other men, but… I’m also not going to be the guy that tells you to change for me.” 

“Hang on, girlfriend?” you smirk. “Slow down there, dude, we’ve only been on three dates.” 

Dean instantly blushes violently. “I should go, I’m not used to this kind of rom com crap, I’m trying to be cute, but it’s clearly not working,” he complains, clearly embarrassed.

You laugh softly as you reach out and grab his wrist to stop him from turning away and heading towards the door. 

“You should at least give me that kiss you’ve been thinking about,” you tell him with a gentle smirk, biting down on your bottom lip as a smile begins to flitter over his lips. 

“Are you sure? It’s pretty passionate,” he tries to tease back, clearly getting his confidence back just a little. 

“I think I can handle it, it’s you that you should be worrying about,” you counter, leaning your face closer to his with a quiet giggle.

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[helpimhyperfixating]

Kinktober Day 3: Glove kink - Jotaro x Reader

Kinktober masterlist

CW: GN!reader, mafia leader Jotaro, fingering, beyond that it’s pretty much you get what the title says :)

Word Count: 1787

“No, darling.” Jotaro spoke, his smooth and deep voice commanding and reaching every part of the room, even if it was just you and him.

Panting softly, you looked up at the mafia leader, sitting in a neat suit, hands covered by black, latex half gloves that stretched around his fingers, leaving his palms exposed. A way for him to feel your warmth and skin without leaving fingerprints, he had said.

Your face felt flushed as you sat before him on your knees, completely naked while he remained fully dressed, his right hand holding your face, making sure you kept your eyes on him.

“We are going to do this my way, understood?” Jotaro spoke as he leaned in, squeezing your cheeks together while he analysed your face, waiting to see if you’ll give any objections. None came, making him lean back in his chair, seemingly satisfied while he let go of your face.

“Up.” The mafia boss spoke, patting his thigh in a clear command, the move causing his sleeve to ride up ever so slightly, revealing the purple and teal swirls inked onto his arm.

Swallowing softly, you blushed and got up, feeling more than exposed before him.

Jotaro Kujo, notorious leader of the Joestar family - your boss.

It was never meant to be like this, you simply wanted to get in, earn some good money, and get out. But life had a funny way of throwing a wrench in the wheel.

You’d fucked up. What was supposed to be an easy supply job had ended with you being robbed by another mafia gang - rivals. And while you’d gotten off unscathed, all the items had been stolen, and you’d gotten the attention of the man in charge.

Just fifteen minutes ago you’d been ordered into his office where he made you strip and sit before him on your knees, his form looming over you as he remained relaxed, his legs crossed.

Under his scrutiny you’d sat in silence, your head bowed down as you tried to think of anything to say to apologise, to make it right, to get out of the punishment that would assuredly follow. Yet when you finally began to speak your words of apology, he shut you up, placing both feet on the floor before you and grabbing your chin.

And now here you were, hugging your naked self as you slowly approached, glancing between his stern face and his lap where his hand still sat. Not even inviting you - no - commanding you to sit down.

Embarrassed and anxious, you turned your body to sit down sideways, trying to save at least a little decorum, but that had the mafia leader click his tongue in warning, causing you to freeze before you turned straight again, your face burning even brighter as you carefully lifted your leg, placing your knee next to his hip before mirroring with your other leg on his other side, slowly sitting yourself down to straddle him.

Awkward, you looked at him, only to see him looking at you, a single eyebrow raising and you suppressed a whimper, looking back down as you slowly shuffled forward, moving to actually straddle him instead of sitting on his knees like you were.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Jotaro spoke after a few seconds, your stomach nearly pressed into his from how close you now sat.

This time, it seemed like he did want an answer so you swallowed, agreeing softly. “No it wasn’t.”

Leaning back in his chair, Jotaro let his gaze run down your body, his hand coming up to rest on your side where his thumb rubbed back and forth across your stomach. It felt almost like he was determining quality of a meat.

“You know why you’re here, don’t you?” He asked and you looked down, nodding.

“It won’t happen again, I swear, I-“ Jotaro cut you off by grabbing your face once again, lifting it to look directly into your eyes while he squeezed your cheeks together - though it wasn’t rough or painful.

“I don’t like verbal apologies. They’re empty and useless.” The man mused, letting go of your cheeks to instead cup your chin, your heart hammering in your chest as you felt the cool texture of his half gloves on your skin. “This is your first offense so I’ll let you off with a warning.” He said, lifting your chin a bit while his thumb on your side now started tracing the space by your ribs. “I need your loyalty, however.”

Swallowing nervously, you looked into his eyes, his pupils slightly blown out while he gazed at you, a single strand of hair running past his forehead, breaking up his otherwise well put together appearance. He was expecting a show of said loyalty.

Shifting slightly on his lap, Jotaro’s eyes darkened even further if that were possible while you brought your hand up and took hold of his wrist by your chin.

You slowly tried to life his hand away from your chin and he let you, giving you confidence to continue on your path as you opened your mouth and took one of his gloved fingers into your mouth.

It was a strange texture as you lifted your tongue to wet the digit, seeing a flash in the raven’s eyes as he took over, pushing a second finger into your mouth, pushing down on your tongue before rubbing back and forth along the muscle, his thumb landing on your chin for leverage.

“There we go.” He praised, continuing to coat his fingers with your saliva until he pulled the digits out of your mouth, admiring the added shine to his glove.

Breathing softly but heavily, you were sitting there on his lap, waiting for any reaction as the mafia leader then gripped your waist tight with the hand that sat there, pulling your pelvis flush to his, your chests connected as he reached his right arm around your back, the palm of his hand gliding down your ass before he placed his wet fingers by your entrance, pushing in without warning.

Gasping, you clenched down around him, whimpering at the penetration while Jotaro gently shushed you, his lips right by your ear. “You’ll be good and take it, won’t you?” He asked and you nodded almost instantly, biting your lip. “Good and loyal, how I like.” He whispered, kissing right by your ear.

Slowly, he started moving his fingers, thrusting in and out of you, your saliva still coating the gloves and making the drag through your walls easy.

Panting, you were leaned up against his chest, your hands clenched into fists as you held them between his stomach and your own, wanting to cling to him but too nervous that he wouldn’t like it.

Jotaro was quick to fix that however, his lips right by your ear. “Hold onto me, sweet thing. I can tell you need it.” He hummed, seeming to truly be enjoying himself as he fingerfucked you, starting to go faster and faster, making sure to hit that one spot deep inside.

Moaning as he did, your hands unfurled as you clung to his jacket, his hand on your waist moving to sit right above your ass, beginning to rock your crotch into his while his fingers were still buried deep inside.

The smooth latex of the glove rubbed across that sweet spot in your walls, shallowly thrusting to keep as much contact as he could, rubbing back and forth while he rocked your front into the bulge in his expensive pants, making you leak all over it as you let out breathy moans.

“Sir-“ You whimpered out, feeling him speed up his thrusts, the sensation of his glove inside you turning you on way more than you’d cared to admit.

“Are you gonna cum?” He whispered into your ear, still rocking you into his own erection in time with his thrusts, making your moans grow and you nodded frantically, feeling that familiar knot in your stomach grow, steady and hard. “Keep rocking.” He ordered, pulling his left hand away from your back to instead place his fingers back at your mouth, waiting for you to obediently open up.

You did just that, rocking your hips like a bitch in heat while he kept thrusting his fingers deep inside you, his left hand now sticking three gloves fingers onto your tongue as you wrapped your lips around them and sucked.

Embarrassed, humiliated, yet so so aroused, you just turned your brain off, drooling around his fingers as you chased your orgasm, tasting and feeling the latex of his gloves, even smelling it as you let out a muffled moan.

Seeing your eyes go hazy as you sucked so greedily on his fingers, Jotaro grunted as he shifted in his seat, letting his head rest back against the chair as his mouth opened a little, your rocking turning him on more and more while he kept his right hand firmly where it was, bringing you to the brink of orgasm.

Feeling yourself approach climax, you began to whine more, little breathy noises of pleasure leaving you every time he thrusted his fingers in.

“There you go, let go.” Jotaro grunted, rubbing the digits in your mouth along your tongue, watching your drool coat his glove and down to the exposed part of his hand, making him shift his hips again as he cursed, his eyes transfixed on the way your lips wrapped around the latex.

With his shift however, his bulge pressed perfectly against you as you rocked your hips, together with his fingers hitting that sweet spot inside your walls. Sucking in a breath, you moaned as your walls clenched around him, sucking the digits in just that bit further as you orgasmed, the raven purposely curling his fingers inside you, making you buck your hips as you rode out the waves with muffled moans.

Only once your orgasm faded did Jotaro let up, pulling his fingers out of you and away from you completely, causing you to gasp in relief as you clung to his jacket still, panting to get your breath and composure back.

“You did well.”

His low voice brought you back down to earth as you looked up, seeing him looking down at you with the smallest of smirks.

“Thank you.” You whispered, casting your gaze down but Jotaro chuckled, placing his drool-slick finger under your chin to raise it, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“I’ll know who to call when I need it, hm?” He asked and you blushed, feeling his bulge still pressed so firmly against you.

Yet still, you immediately knew that you would obey his every whim.

“Yes, sir.”

[nicomoon69]

so in my spider! Bernard AU I’m slightly changing up his character so here’s basics on Bernard:

- Bernard is still into cooking and it started years back purely because he didn’t trust the food industry. that meant he spent ages learning how to cook and figuring out how to make a lot of popular food items. he has a little list of companies he trusts and doesn’t. he doesn’t want to open a restaurant anymore/become a chef, more so being interested in keeping himself and others healthy

- Bernard knows a freaky amount of things he probably shouldn’t but masks knowing said knowledge with his conspiracy theories (he only believes in like half of them) so to most people he’s just a crazy guy saying crazy things. he still ends up being on a few watchlists so he tries to throw those off by also being a conspiracist online (he also truly enjoys it, but that’s an added bonus)

- Bernard’s actually really smart but due to above as well as a lack of giving a shit about school material (he prefers scientific what ifs and weapon/super hero/vigilante stuff) so he ended up not being able to get into the courses he would’ve preferred due to his mostly average grades. it’s why he’s now double majoring in physics and biology in hopes of getting to do a masters in something closer to that (also a bit of pressure from his parents)

- Bernard has had suit designs for himself and other vigilantes just lying around (which is also how he got a pretty functional suit in a pretty short amount of time). it was mostly a hobby where he’d think about what if scenarios

- Bernard when possible does everything on paper, since he doesn’t trust the government and other big corporations. it’s why his empty apartment has stacks of paper laying around (all neatly categorized and sealed, but it looks like a mess to anyone else)

- kinda in the same vein as the last one but Bernard has most of his money in cash, only having what is absolutely necessary on his bank account. he also claims it saves him money since he can’t just freely spend money with a tap of his card (it’s kind of true since when he had to spend money for his suit he actually had most of it lying around)

- Bernard had a short phase in high school that had him convinced he needed to learn russian so he can now speak a bit of russian, but most importantly he can do the accent really well. it’s what he used as spiderman to throw people off of his identity (it gives Tim a genuine headache)

- Bernard works a part time job at a restaurant as an assistant chef (he needs to buy groceries and pay rent after all). it’s a little italian diner a few blocks from his apartment. he always get leftovers and food that’s about to spoil to reduce their waste

I don’t know if I missed anything important, but this is basically going to be my characterization on him! if you have any suggestions or can point to canon that directly conflicts with these ideas pls lmk! I’m always up to revise my stuff :)