#blame clockwork and his bullshit

[proneterror204]

Dan-el god of death 2

Danny was so exited! Clockwork had sent him to an Alien planet! Well technically he was the alien, but he was on another planet! From the looks of it their culture had just entered its medieval era and was ending a massive war. Danny was sent to cleanup all the resentful undead and evil cults, but surly Clockwork wouldn't mind if he experienced some culture. Right?

Due to Clockworks amulet he could translate their language and his name came out as Dan-el. Which was close enough. Apparently alot of the people had seen his fights with the undead. He hung around and taught them somethings and learned about their culture, religion, and most important their stars. Till one day he looked around and had an "Oh Shit" moment when he discovered maybe he had gone to far and taught to much. He had to leave.

Clockwork sent him back to Krypton( Why did that sound so familiar?) multiple times. Each time Danny found himself in new era's. Then Danny noticed something. As the people, Kryptonians, thanked and praised him, he started to feel it. He started to notice that he was getting stronger in and out of time travel. He wondered why?

Clockwork told him. He told of how Krypton had dubed him the god of death. How they told the legend of his deeds on and off Krypton. His fights with Plasmius and Pariah Dark, his half death, and his powers. All went down as in Kryptonian mythology of Dan-el the god of death. Then he learned of Krypton's fate and the last Kryptonians. (Danny cried)

A week later as Danny lay in bed failing to go to sleep, he felt it. Someone still believed.

[reallyromealone]

Title: god what have we done

Chapter: prologue

Fandom: Encanto

Characters: Encanto cast, unnamed characters

Fic type: angst to romance

Pairings: Bruno x reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, darker Bruno, homie is 7 feet tall, Bruno is jaded, kind of an ass, reader just wants to smooch him

Notes:

Summary: Bruno can't shake an Omega who has declared them to be the perfect match

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Bruno raised an eyebrow at the Omega infront of him "you're not here for a reading?" He asked with disbelief dripping from his voice, taking a drag from his cigarette mid sentence with barely a fuck to give the Omega who had a look of determination.

"Don't you want to see the love of your life or some shit?"

"I don't want to know my future"

"Everyone wants to know their future"

"Not me" (name) shrugged and the Alpha scoffed "bullshit, you will eventually and some way it will be my fault"

(Name) Wanted to be annoyed at the alphas attitude but he knew better seeing as people come to see their future and throw tantrums when they don't get what they want, could you blame him? "I came to bring you this" in his hands was a jar... Of ajiaco?

What game was this?

What was the Omega playing at?

Then it clicked...

Well time to nip this at the bud.

Bruno sighed and stood, a towering seven feet tall and having to lean down to look at the other "and why would a little Omega like you want to come all this way to bring me this?" (Name) Was unwavering at the glowing green eyes and slight stubble on the Alphas face "I wish to court you"

Well wasn't he forward?

An Omega asking an alpha out like this, unheard of in this backwater town-- his mom would have had an aneurysm at the concept of an Omega breaking courting traditions but she lost her mind at basically anything so Bruno didn't care much about her thoughts and opinions.

But (name) of all people asking him out like this?

Bruno knew who (name) was, a male Omega was rare, (name) being the only one in town and had countless suitors chasing after him and yet this little thing wanted to court him?

Was he trying to piss his parents off?

He almost chucked at the other but he wasn't going to entertain his delusions.

He was no fool, especially to pretty omegas like (name).

And so the words came easy off his tongue.

"No" Brunos voice cold and clear, taking another drag of his cigarette while standing back up and looking down at him as he was nothing but instead of a teary eyed Omega, he saw determination "I was expecting you to say that, I'll be back tomorrow! Save space for lunch!" And with that the omega wandered off, the Alpha scoffing before putting out his cigarette with a glare.

He felt this omega was going to be a headache.

And (name) was apparently a man of his word.

Everyday like clockwork he harassed the Alpha with delicious treats and meals, annoying him with conversation and frivolous nonsense.

"So what do you do for fun?"

"Smoke"

"I like to read and recently I have taken the hobby paper folding... I found a book about it in the shop"

"I don't care"

"You do anything today?"

"No"

"I just helped with my parents shop, my papa is planning on opening a cafe so people can read and have a nice drink and snack" Bruno didn't know why he let the other go on and on but he did, going through half a pack of cigarettes before (name) was gone for the day, always leaving food and a recent development; a paper creation that be left for him.

There was a collection building in Bruno's den.

He didn't know why he kept them but he did.

These days turned into months and before he knew it.

(Name) Was worming his way into the others life like a parasite.

It was late, (name) and Bruno sat in comfortable silence and the Alpha hadn't realized so much time passed when (name) slumped against his shoulder, sleeping contently and causing the Alpha to freeze unsure what to do.

But his alpha instincts had other plans, gently putting his head on his lap while petting his nape.

God what was he getting into...

Maybe he should see his own future...

Rip the bandaid off...

But Bruno didn't want this... Whatever it was to end, deep down be knew he was beginning to care for the Omega and begrudgingly...

He knew he wanted them to stay.

But he knew better...

He knew that (name) would come to his senses.

It was just a matter of time.

(Name) Stared up secretly while Bruno was lost in thought, not quite asleep yet but he just wanted to admire the other before he succumbed.

The Alpha was so pretty... Slightly scruffy with his curly hair up in a bun with a bit of his bangs framing his face, always wearing that green poncho that (name) had learned was quite soft... And those eyes.

Oh how he could stare at those eyes for hours.

(Name) Closed his eyes once more and cuddled into him....

He wouldn't miss this chance to be close.

And that night was the best sleep (name) and Bruno ever had.

Bruno sighed as he lit a cigarette in an alleyway while everyone celebrates Juiletas wedding, the whole village in attendance as people danced and sang. "I don't think I could convince you to a dance, could I?" (Name) Asked with a slight teasing in his voice and the Alpha glanced at him bored "when the mountains move, I'll dance with you" the Alpha blew smoke in (name)s face, the other coughing slightly with a glare "so why are you hiding from your sisters wedding" (name) leaned against the wall beside him, the Alpha towering comparatively "I have no interest in this shit"

(Name) Hummed and pulled out something wrapped in a cloth from his jacket pocket and unwrapped an Empanada and took a bite before offering some to the Alpha, standing on his toes to get it to the others lips, Bruno raising an eyebrow at this "what are you doing?" His voice bland and slightly confused "I haven't seen you eat yet!" (Name) Huffed and the Alpha rolled his eyes before taking a bite, the food was fucking delicious but he was not about to admit that. "So...?" (Name) Asked hopefully and Bruno leaned down close, lips barely brushing before speaking "I had better" a bold faced lie that Bruno would never admit, seeing the others pout made him chuckle. "So why are you in an alley way with me hm? It's not proper for an Omega to be with an alpha while unmarked"

"It's rather dangerous, Omega" Bruno continued when the other looked confused "left alone with an alpha, anything could happen" it was an attempt to scare the other off but (name) just stared at him with blown out pupils, completely calm "you won't hurt me" (name) said simply and cupped the others face when it got close enough "oh? And how could you be so sure?" Bruno huffed amused, subconsciously leaning into the others touch "because you had countless times where you could have taken advantage of me but you havent"

"Many alphas would have taken any second to take advantage of that but you turned me away at every courting attempt, you don't care about my secondary gender... It's one of the reasons I fell for you" (name) admitted before kissing Bruno's cheek "and I'm in this alleyway with you because you're the only one at this party I want to be beside"

Bruno released the other from his hold, a look of uncertainty in his eyes towards the Omega who looked at him like he hung the moon.

"(Name)? There you are~" a slightly slurred voice called from the alleyway entrance, (name) visibly freezing at the sight of his most persistent suitor while Bruno could smell the faint scent of annoyance from the Omega "oh? And you're with the town's monster? How... Unique" Bruno glared at the other with a venom (name) didn't think was possible. "So Bruno, how is life? Cause more people misfortune? See someone having a miscarriage? Curse an old woman with the death of her husband?" These were things that Bruno had seen prior, things that made the village view him even worse, blaming him for the death of an old man and a baby who didn't have a chance to take their first breath.

"(Name), sweety" the suitor said getting closer and (name) could smell the alcohol on his breath "it would be in your best interest to get away from the likes of him, nothing but tragedy follows Bruno Madrigal" reaching towards (name) to get him away from Bruno but a large hand slapped it away.

Bruno looked murderous "I suggest you go back from which you came, wouldn't want to find out you lose your hair in the future, no?"

The suitors face morphed into one of anxiety and anger but turned away none the less and the two were left alone.

"You can't even do that, can you?" Turning around (name) looked around for the alpha but Bruno was no longer standing there, just (name) and the lingering scent of Bruno.

like that, Bruno was gone.

And (name) was by himself.

(Name) Tried to visit the Alpha the following morning, the Madrigal family watching with saddened expressions when (name) was rejected each and every time "he takes time to open up, give him Patience" Peppa said softly, worried clouds forming over her head while (name) smiled sadly "I know I can be quite forward with the things that my heart desires... I just... When I look at him it's like the world rights itself..." His voice wistful and so loving, it hurt that Bruno kept pushing him away... He knew he should accept that the Alpha didn't want him but he just couldn't step back...

It felt like fate to be with him.

So (name) came by every day and sat infront of the door, chatting to the Alpha about his families book store and even reading from the book he brought and when he had to leave, there was always a basket of treats for the Alpha.... But it seemed the only ones who enjoyed them were the rats.

"At least you enjoy them" (name) whispered to a rat that crawled from the basket, carefully lifting it into his hold "do you know what he's doing up there? If so could you give him this note?" The Omega carefully tied a note to the rat, surprised when the rat seemed to understand what he was conveying before running off.

Bruno's space was destroyed, the Alpha sweating and scratching at himself. He got too close! He got to close to (name), he could have hurt him!

After visit three, Bruno read his future with (name) and...

He saw (name) crying.

Alone and crying, holding a pup... Their pup.

And on his finger was a string...

He knew (name) was his soulmate...

He knew it but he didn't want to hurt (name) the way he would if he pursued the relationship.

But could he change fate? The future was set in stone was it not?

"He came by again...?" He could hear the omegas voice faintly travel through the vast room, his voice calming to his ears but painful for his heart.

This was for the best.

It had to be.

[d3add0vedonoteat]

Habit

Carmy Berzatto x You

No warnings, just a short fluffy blurb 💖

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I’m back from the deeeeeaaaaaaad! Back with another Carmy fic for you, my loyal simps. I hope you like it! Not proofread AT ALL lmaooo

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You were a creature of habit, for better or worse. You always slept on the same side of the bed. You always used the same mug for your coffee which you had the same way every morning. You wore the same coat. You smoked the same cigarettes. You drank the same liquor. You walked to work the same way. You ate lunch at the same restaurant. It wasn’t that you disliked change, you just had a hard time breaking habits.

It was habit that had you pushing open the door of The Beef at lunchtime. It was a small, grimy slop shop but you had been coming here for lunch since you started working at the bar around the corner. Mikey, the owner, had always treated you fondly and firmly planted the place in your heart. You could expect your order being wrapped up as you walked through the door, a warm smile and “hi sweetheart” greeting you like clockwork every time. But when Mikey died, that all changed. Over the last few years, you’d grown quite close to him. You were a regular at The Beef and he was in turn a regular at the bar you staffed. Many nights trailed into the morning refilling his glass and listening to him talk about his family, his younger brother, the restaurant, his troubles. There was always something that he seemed on the brink of saying but could never quite get out. You hadn’t pushed him but after hearing the news, you couldn’t help but blame yourself for not spotting it. You often found yourself losing focus at work, staring at the stool he used to be and wondering if you could have done more. Mikey’s death had left a huge hole in your heart, but The Beef was still there.

“-because you don’t understand this fucking place!” Richie’s loud voice greeted you as the bell chimed above the door. “You may be all fancy and fucking hoity-toity with your fucking bullshit caviar shit but this is real food and you can’t fuck with the fucking system! People don’t come here for this shit, they just want the regular sandwiches and the fucking spaghetti!” He stormed out to the front as he yelled, not missing a beat in greeting you. “Hi, sweetheart, where ya been? How are you?”

“Hi Richie. You okay?” You said in return.

“Yeah not good, not good. Sorry I don’t have your sandwich ready,” he pointedly yelled towards the kitchen adding, “someone is being a fucking dick and changing everything!”

The kitchen door burst open. “Why the fuck are you still screaming at me?!”

“Because you’re fucking up the whole system!” Richie turned to you. “Did you like the spaghetti? You liked it right?”

You stuttered, not prepared to be dragged into their argument. “Um, yeah it was good? But I mean… it’s a sandwich shop right? It didn’t make a lot of sense to have spaghetti.”

“Thank you!” The shorter man pointed at you.

“Wow,” Richie shook his head, exasperated. “So much for loyalty. Here cousin, why don’t you take her order since you know everything about everything and nothing can stay the same! You can make her some fucking fish gut foam shit or whatever you do in New York.”

With that Richie stormed off, but he shot you a little wave with a playful grin on his face as he left.

“I uh… I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s okay, Richie’s just… passionate, right?” You laugh. Now that he’s standing in front of you, you get a better look at him.

He leaned on the counter, the muscles in his arms flexing and straining at his white t shirt. Your eyes roam over the patchwork of tattoos shamelessly. His jaw is sharp and defined, well carved brow and deep blue eyes that make the breath catch in your throat. “You um,” you blush, catching yourself staring. “You must be Carmen. Mikey’s brother?”

He nodded, surprise evident on his face. “I knew your brother, I mean… not super well but not like… not at all. I-” you cleared your throat, feeling increasingly awkward under his steady gaze. “I come here a lot and I work around the corner so Mikey came there a lot. I heard about you.”

Carmy’s chest felt tight and heavy. The notion of Mikey talking about him made him uneasy, especially to you. There was something about you… fuck, he was staring.

“I’m sorry,” you said, sighing. “I’m a babbler when I’m nervous.”

“It’s okay,” Carmy rushed to reassure you. “I’m a… fucking asshole.” He chuckled halfheartedly.

“Warning noted.” You smiled. It was bright and made Carmen’s chest squeeze tighter. “I do the number 4, toasted, extra peppers please.”

“Yeah,” Carmy nodded, wanting to stare at you a little longer while he grappled with the rising urge to impress you. “You uh- you got it.”

He turned but stopped. “Unless, uh- you want to try something new?”

Your routine at The Beef was never the same. You never got the number 4 toasted with extra peppers again. You never got the same “hi sweetheart” again. Now, it was a different dish everyday and a breathless “hey” amid chaos. You never knew what Carmy would come up with but you knew it would be the best thing you’d ever eaten. You sat in the restaurant, savoring the food instead of eating it while you walked down the sidewalk; your eyes constantly flicking to Carmy while he navigated tasks around the place. He moved with precision despite his frantic nature. He was captivating, honestly. You stole glances here and there, bashful at how his brash nature made the butterflies in your stomach take flight. But every time your head ducked down to avoid being caught, Carmy stole his own glances at you. His heart picked up when you came in, but it was different than the pounding of anxiety when he was on the line. It was exciting in a hopeful way. He wanted to see you more. Slowly, lunches turned into dinners; dinners turned into dinners together.

It happened one late night. It was so late, it was practically dawn. You were walking home from the bar, exhausted and uniquely depressed. It was something small. A patron ordered an innocuous drink that happened to be the same thing Mikey had always gotten. Something in the air made it sink into your heart. As you trudged home in the dark, you noticed lights still on at The Beef. You pushed the door open, the bell chiming overhead.

“Carmy?” You called out, practically tiptoeing to the kitchen. You found him by the lockers, head in his hands.

He looked up when you entered, surprised. “Hey,” you said, softly. “Are you okay?”

Emotion gleamed in his eyes. His face was red, his hair even more messy than usual. “I just-” he cleared his throat. “I don’t know.” Carmy’s voice was weak, he fidgeted with his hands. You recognized it.

With a gentle sign, you sat down beside him. “I know.”

You didn’t look at him, instead you looked up at the florescent light above. The smell of the restaurant was nostalgic, comforting in a mournful way. It made you think of your friend. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “You know, there was this one time where Mikey got into a betting contest at the bar. This guy was not from around here. I mean, he had this fancy watch on, suit and everything. He looked like he just stepped out of a fucking airplane commercial. So Mikey goes up to him and first thing out of his mouth is: “you’re dressed like a fucking prick”.”

Carmy snorted. “That sounds like him.”

“Yeah, he played it real close to the chest.” You teased. “Anyways, this guy tells Mikey, “you look like a bum.” So they’re going back and worth and this guy says that he bets he makes Mikey’s rent in 5 minutes. Mikey being Mikey bets a month’s rent on a game of pool.”

“Mikey sucked at pool.”

“Yeah he fucking did.” You laughed. “You know what he does? He starts buying drinks. Shots. And I mean, he knew how to play this guy because every time he didn’t want one, Mikey would make it seem like he was just too much of a pussy.”

Carmy had sat up. You were facing each other, absorbed in the story. He looked lighter.

“It doesn’t take long before this guy is hammered. I mean, he’s practically falling over. So every time he’s chalking his cue or some shit, Mikey just slips a ball in the pocket!”

“No shit,” Carmy laughed.

You shrugged, smiling. “He was smooth, I’ll give him that… Dumbass.”

Silence settled between you. The funny memory melding with grief in a swirl of melancholy.

“So how long were you two uh…” Carmy trailed off. It took you a moment before you realized what he was asking.

“Oh god!” Embarrassment washed over you. “No, nothing like that!”

“I didn’t mean anything bad like-” Carmy rushed to apologize at the sight of your burning cheeks. “It’s just, I mean, it seems like you knew him so well I just figured-”

“No, we never- I mean- it wasn’t like that! We were just really good friends, I mean not that good just like industry friends, you know? Mikey was great but he wasn't my type like you are.”

Carmy couldn’t help the smirk. He watched the realization dawn on your face. Redness burned across your face, your eyes were wide in an adorably frantic way. Something in his heart tugged and he suddenly felt like a dumb kid in high school. He was your type? The affection for you began to twist and morph into vicious criticism of himself. You must have just misspoken. He wasn’t your type. He was just a sack of shit. A failure. A worthless waste of space that would never amount to anything couldn’t even keep it together for one goddamn dinner service-

“You okay?”

Your hand was on his. Gentle, warm, soft. His spiraling thoughts fell away, like the TV was out on mute. All he could think of was your hand on his.

“Y-yeah… I’m good.” He smiled at you. It was so genuine, it made you smile too. “You, uh- you hungry?”

[thekimspoblog]

But ok here's the deal with "Good Chucky".

Season 1, we get some insight into Charles Lee Ray's backstory. And for the most part it does seem like he was just a bad seed. Which is good, because it's not like I wanted some sob story about how society is to blame anyway. But we do get the suggestion that maybe things would have turned out differently if he hadn't fallen into the care of Dr. Mixter. Because Dr. Mixter is a horrible pediatric psychiatrist, who is traumatizing her patients and giving them bad advice on purpose. She was the one who encouraged Charles's natural "gifts".

In Season 2, Jake Devon and Lexi manage to capture one of the dolls. And Jake (way too quickly, in my opinion) gets the bright idea to torture Chucky clockwork-orange style. As a result, the doll regresses to a child-like state and seemingly becomes friendly and helpful. Jake concludes that this means he managed to turn the doll good, but this hypothesis is disproven when the doll playfully manages to lure a character named Nadine up to a third story balcony and tosses her off.

In spite of all evidence to the contrary, in Season 3, Jake still insists on traveling to the spirit world to make contact with "Good Chucky" in the hopes of doing some Steven Universe "reach his heart" bullshit. This also backfires horribly just like the previous attempt. So clearly it's not like the narrative is SIDING WITH Jake. But I'm not clear on what this subplot is trying to say, if anything.

Devon has been telling Jake this entire time that he thinks this is stupid, but Devon's objections mostly center around the premise that Charles Lee Ray is pure evil and has no humanity to appeal to. None of the characters actually challenge whether - if a kernel of good in him exists - torture was the best method to reform him. And like... it can't be because Don Mancini unironically believes torture works, right?? I really hope not; when another character named Andy talks about torturing Chucky, it's rightfully depicted as a sign of Andy's deteriorating mental health. And it's not like Jake is necessarily SUPPOSED TO BE the most well-adjusted protagonist in the world. Jake talks about brainwashing his enemy so confidently and casually, there's no way the writers aren't aware how insane this character looks. Right?

I would have accepted this as a dumb plot point which got dropped, but if they keep bringing it up, I want to believe this is going somewhere. If this is building to a Holden Ford type arc where Jake loses his romantic partner because he was too preoccupied trying to understand a criminal mind, that could be pretty darkly funny. But we won't know until Season 4 whether he's going to keep screwing up like this.

[maxwellatoms]

Remember that post a few days ago where I groused about not being able to relate anything in a cartoon to reality? I was partially blaming the censors, but as I sit here trying to storyboard a funny children’s cartoon while offering cold comfort to my teacher friends in the midst of this week’s national tragedy, I’m afraid I’m going to have to place most of the blame on reality itself. Or at least the reality we've created for ourselves here in the United States, and which we ship out to the rest of the world as “entertainment”.

If you want cartoons to be good again, you’re going to have to make life better first. The whole point of satire is to hold a mirror to society with a touch of hyperbole, but when you live in a world where there are mass shootings like clockwork, of course you’re never going to be able to address violence in any form on a children’s show. I mean, I’d love to shove some of these uncomfortable truths in some people’s faces, but that’s just not going to happen on children's TV. I can’t come within a million miles of that. It’s radioactive. And I get it.

I think it’s interesting that there’s so much more violence now that we don’t have Elmer Fudd chasing Bugs Bunny around with a shotgun. I wonder sometimes if there isn’t a certain catharsis to seeing bad people punished. Elmer Fudd never won. He was the bad guy and he got his comeuppance. We used to watch people hit KKK members with furniture on Jerry Springer. Maybe that’s where they should’ve stayed; not as boogeymen but as loser clowns; defeated remnants of a failed racist insurrection destined to be beaten soundly with folding chairs for the rest of time. In truth though, I suspect that the problem has much less to do with depictions of violence in the media than it does with forty-plus years of Republicans legislating against education and the resulting entitlement that engendered. 

A certain segment of our society is really frightened. Frightened enough that they elect “strong men” who talk tough whether they’re “strong” or not. Frightened enough to hoard guns. Many of these people start off believing that a magic man in the sky will guide their morality, and I think many of them take that as an excuse never to learn or grow or develop any sort of morality of their own. Existential crises (IMO) are what humans use to better themselves. They’re difficult and unpleasant and can really ruin your day/week/month/year. In other words, they are “a real downer”. During an existential crisis, you’ve got to reflect on what you believe and why you believe it, and evaluate how changing those beliefs might ripple through your life. You’re going to have to make changes, and changes take work. But over time, you sort it out and come out the other side better and stronger for the work you’ve done. However, when the greatest crime you can think of is to admit fault, then you will do literally anything to avoid an existential crisis. It’s gotten to the point where a lot of these people have spent their entire lives lying to themselves. 

I suspect that most of them know that they’re full of shit. Like, way back in their mushy little goldfish brains there’s a little voice that points out the cognitive dissonance. But listening to that voice will cause an existential crisis that will negate the past thirty-to-sixty years of their lives and leave them a sobbing wreck wondering why they wasted so much time on absolute bullshit. So instead, they keep lying to themselves so that the dam doesn’t break. And then they lie to others to reinforce the dam.  With enough reinforcement, they can live together, hermetically sealed in an ignorant dreamland. And god help anyone who starts trying to poke holes. Without ever having experienced an existential crisis, these people would now literally rather kill you than admit fault. “Don’t talk about race. Don’t talk about gender. Don’t talk about gun violence. If you do, we’ll remind you that we have all the guns for the coming civil war our politicians are openly calling for.”

Did any of you watch “Chernobyl”? There’s a part where the lead scientist goes to Moscow to relay his findings to the Kremlin and he gives them the bad news that a real and deadly disaster has already happened. And the Kremlin says no, that sort of stuff doesn’t happen here in Russia. And the scientist says, “Well, no. I’m saying that it’s already happened. I don’t think you understand.” And he’s told, “No you don’t understand. We said that sort of stuff doesn’t happen here in Russia“  And then our hero starts to understand how truly screwed everyone actually is. That’s us now. That’s entertainment reflecting our real world back at us. If we can’t even start by admitting we’re wrong, we are all doomed.

My opinion on what TV animation is for is changing. When I started out as an artist in the animation industry, it was all about “art” and “freedom” and “sticking it to the man”. Now, I think, it’s more about providing an escape from the real world for children. That’s what it was for me growing up as a child so maybe that’s not too surprising, but I think I’d started to forget about that fact (granting that I was just trying to escape standard bullying and my own Aspie brain rather than mis-educated nihilist gun-nuts and their throngs of right-wing murder-fans).

Things will get worse. More killings will happen, and more frequently. And the stuff you’re watching is likely to get even less relatable as networks scramble to cover up our society’s exposed seams. And I guess that’s fine. “Relatable” is fucked. I’ll bet some people stumble across this in a few days or weeks or hours and wonder “but which shooting is he talking about?” Shit, if I hadn’t mentioned kids, we’d have three or four to choose from this week.

So that’s why your cartoons suck. It’s the same reason most things suck now. Because your society is catering to hypocritical, anachronistic, ego-maniacal,  cousin-humping racist idiot death-cultists.

Now... if you don’t mind I’ve only got a few hours to craft some silly jokes about corn while thinking about abandoned kids having to smear the blood of their dead friends on their clothes to stay alive.

*Please send all whataboutisms, both-sides-isms, gun facts, and death threats to P.O. Box Gofuckyourself, Cancel Me, CA.

[mrslilyrogers]

All I have to do is Dream Part 2

Pairing: Steve x Reader, Telepath! Reader (X-men reader)

Summary: It’s been five years since the snap. You and Steve are stuck at an impasse. You want a family, he doesn’t. He says he’s moved on but has he really? With your doubts growing, you consider risking his trust and use your powers on him to get your answers once and for all.

Author’s note: I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it before but reader here has studied at the Xavier Institute so she’s basically part of the X-men. You don’t have to read the comics or watch their movies, it is just part of her background. This is based on Endgame and would follow its progression. If you want to be tagged, please send an ask!! Thank you all for reading!!! 

Part 1 

Steve’s jaw twitched, his throat muscles working, eyes never leaving the photo on his phone. He pursed his lips and let out a huge exhale, running a hand on his face. What the hell had you done?

Nat didn’t question when he came back to the compound late last night nor when he didn’t show up the morning after, only learning from F.R.I.D.A.Y, he was up earlier than his usual and left. He came back a few hours ago, sweaty and gruff, immediately rushing to lock himself up at the gym. Wallowing there until now. 

She had known Steve long enough to know he was blowing off steam. She knew better than to pry, letting him keep to himself until he was ready to talk, and Steve was glad for it. Glad he still had one friend who cared. 

What the hell had you done? 

—————————-

You jolted from the bed, Steve’s eyes drilling holes in your direction from where he sat stiffly beside you, his mouth pressed into a thin disapproving line. If only looks could kill. You had never seen him so angry in your life. His breath coming in rapid pants, his fists clenched tight at his sides, the muscles around his neck and arms bulging. You felt naked under his gaze, bared to the soul with nowhere to hide. Ironic when just a few moments ago, you had breached into his mind, violating his privacy to the utmost. 

“Y/N,” he said, deathly low and lethal, a warning. 

“Steve, I’m sorry I didn’t know--” you scrambled to your feet, panic rising up to your throat, cheeks wet with tears. 

“Bullshit!” He roared, not letting you finish, shooting up to his feet like the soldier he was. His tightly coiled temper finally unleashed. “You went inside my head! Don’t you fucking give me any excuses!”

In his anger, he threw the analog clock from his bedside table to the floor, breaking it into tiny pieces instantly, the sound of it cracking and your crying the only things filling the air. You didn’t recognize the sobs coming from you, not even knowing if it was from what you’ve just discovered or the way he looked at you now. As if he didn’t know you, as if he could never trust you again. 

“I’m sorry,” was all you said. And you were. In every sense of the word. Sorry for yourself, sorry for what you’ve learned, sorry for what you’ve done. 

“How could you do this to me?” Steve asked, disbelieving. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just… I overheard you at grief counseling--”

“You what?” He hissed, eyes incredulous and accusing. “Are you fucking spying on me now?” he pointed his finger at you, circling the bed to stand in front of you, his steps quick and long. He looked like he did on missions. One purpose, ready to attack. It was a miracle he kept his fists at his sides instead of shaking you. 

“NO! No, I was waiting outside and I heard what you said, and it’s made me think…” 

“No, you didn’t think! I told you time and time again, I love you. What more do you fucking need?” His voice grew even louder, exasperation and impatience seeping out of him as if he had been putting up with you for so long.

What more do you need? What more do you need?

“The truth, Steve! I just wanted to know the truth!” You answered back, voice rising in return. The whole time you thought you were only being paranoid, insecure, blaming it on yourself when you weren’t wrong all along. He still wanted her. Yearned for her. 

“And are you happy now? You happy that you’ve forced it out of me?” Steve’s tone turned mocking, his eyes hard and jaw tensed. No denial, no guilt. He baited you and if he had enough presence of mind, he wouldn’t have said that, wouldn’t have deliberately gone out of his way to cut you deep. But right at this moment, all he saw was red. He wanted to hurt you, to punch, to scream. His hands shook, in the need to destroy something, to fight someone. Fists bringing out what he couldn’t put forth into words. He knew he had to leave. 

You flinched from his words as if you’ve been physically slapped. Eyes full of hurt, you were speechless, immobilized to the spot, no other choice but to take it all in and watch him as he bristled past you, heading to the direction of your shared closet, grabbing his duffel bag and stuffing it with whatever he could get his hands on. 

“Wait, where are you going?” your voice was small, hands shaking while you clutched the end of your shirt. 

“I can’t even look at you right now,” 

“So is this it? Is that all you have to say?” You pleaded, a part of you still hoping he’d deny everything you saw. That it was just all it ever was, a dream. A fantasy from another life. That it didn’t mean anything. That he’d pick you, the one who was here, someone he could actually build a future with. Over a dead woman, a woman who belonged to another decade, another lifetime. 

“Since you’re so good at getting into people’s minds, why don’t you tell me?” He taunted, turning his back to you, roughly shoving his toiletries in his bag.

“That’s not fair, Steve!” 

“Fair? You want to talk about being fair when you broke my trust! You promised, Y/N. Does that only mean something when it’s convenient to you?” He turned around this time, nostrils flaring, finger pointing offensively at you again. You were so close to him now, could practically feel the heat radiating off his body. And you were scared. You were scared to lose him. Because you knew whatever happened tonight couldn’t be reversed. The things he said, the things you did, there was no going around it anymore. 

“Do you want me to say I don’t love Peggy anymore, is that it? Is that what you wanna hear? Because I can’t. I still love her!” His voice boomed around you, shaking you to your core. Fresh, hot tears trailed down your cheeks. You were helpless. Broken. 

As soon as the words left him, he knew he’d regret it. At the way you looked, so small and vulnerable, hugging your arms to your chest, his eyes softened,  “Y/N…” he moved towards you, hands out to comfort you but you backed away. 

Shaking your head vehemently, you took another step back. You didn’t want his touch, didn’t want him near you. 

“No, no. Don’t.” you stayed a hand up to stop him. “It’s alright. You’re right,” 

“Y/N, that’s not--” 

“I think you should leave.” you pointed to the bag already in his hand. Your resolve, sure and strong. 

“Y/N, I didn’t--” he tried again, shaking his head. How could he take those words back? Did he not mean them too? God help him but he loved them both. 

“Steve, please stop. Just stop. Don’t make this any harder than it already is,” you pleaded, not knowing what else he wanted from you. You gave him an out; clear and easy. Wasn’t that enough? Did he have to hurt you even more?

“I shouldn’t have said those things,” He let out on a sigh, shaking his head. “But sweetheart, please don’t look at me like that,” You looked like a terrified deer, ready to run at the first sign of danger and he couldn’t bear that it was directed at him. He could handle your tenacity, your fire, anything else but the defeated look on your face. It made his heart ache.

He tried again, speaking gently, “Y/N, if you want me to leave for the night, I will. I think you might be right, we need some space after this, clear our heads,” 

This time, he went near you and you let him, you let his hands hold your arms like he’s done in past arguments. You let him look you straight in the eye like he’s done so many times before. You let him say his piece, already knowing where it was headed like the back of your hand. You operated like this. Clockwork. When one pushed, the other shoved. 

One last time. 

“But promise me you’ll be here in the morning to talk. You went inside my head, Y/N, but I wanna work through this. I love you,” he said it like he meant it, his heart on his sleeve but you weren’t so sure you believed him anymore. 

“You know I love you, right?” He asked just like the last time. Clockwork. 

No. I don’t. 

You nodded your head. 

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

He tossed and turned that night, the look of hurt on your face scarred in his memory. He knew he shouldn’t have left, knew he should’ve fought to stay.

It was true that he was furious but any animosity he felt immediately simmered after the mention of Peggy. He was way out of line. He wanted to apologize, to pull you into his arms and kiss away the bitter words he spoke but he was still so shaken about what you had done, what you had seen, and so he figured he should let it rest first, giving you both time and space to calm down. Everything looked better in the morning, right? 

But your face came unbidden in his mind, he could still remember the exact moment you closed yourself off to him, your eyes hauntingly empty and hollow, shoulders hunched, arms instinctively wrapped to yourself. So small and vulnerable. 

He should’ve stayed, dammit! 

He let out a grunt as he stared up at the ceiling. He still couldn’t believe you used your abilities on him, couldn’t believe you’d go so far when you’d never ever shied away from asking him anything. Heck, you’d basically proposed to him with all your nagging of starting a family.

Why did you have to see that?

He hissed and shook his head, guilt gnawing in his stomach. Your power was able to force out his deepest dreams and desires. But was that the whole truth? If he hadn’t woken up and you’d stuck a little longer then you would’ve known just how scared and confused he was. What you saw was the Steve who still clung to the past, the part of him that wanted to go back, yearned to go back because it was safer, it was where he truly belonged. 

But then again, he wasn’t that same man anymore, was he? Not fully anyway. In more ways than one, he had moved on. For the past couple of years, he did, in fact, envision a future with you. He was going to propose until the snap happened and then, everything changed. He saw his friends, his family, gone to dust. He could still hear Bucky’s echoing words, calling out to him. All those lost souls vanished as if they never existed while he stood, helpless and useless. Why spare him again? Why did he have to go through it all again? Didn’t he have enough pain and loss in one lifetime? 

And so he started thinking of the past. The good ol’ days, if you could even really call it that. It started out as a tiny flicker of curiosity. You both had just found a new apartment in New York, it wasn’t all that hard with the sudden vacancies. You were standing in the middle of the room, hands on your hips while he sat at the edge of the bed his head bowed, elbows resting on his knees. 

“Steve, we need to start thinking of the future. I know it’s hard but they’re not coming back and we can’t keep doing what we’re doing. We can get away from all this, you know, start a new life. Don’t you want that too?”

He swallowed a lump in his throat. He wanted to fight, to try again and again until he got everyone back. He was grieving, angry, and above all, guilty. Why couldn’t he do what he was made for in the first place? How did he let all of this happen? And why, for god’s sake, why did he have to survive while the others vanished?

But you were right. Of course, you were right. The ever practical and optimistic you. He looked at you with tired eyes, not wanting to argue, and nodded his head. He still had you, that was a win. For every shitty thing that happened since, at least you were alive and he wouldn’t trade that for the world but some jaded, cynical part of him questioned how long that would last. The universe clearly had a bone to pick with him and it was only a matter of time before you were taken from him too and that scared the living shit out of him.  

And so he had started to wonder what if?

What if he never had to wake up from the ice? What if he never had to crash the plane in the first place? What if he was where he was really supposed to be? 

All those questions drifted down into one person, the one that got away. Peggy.  She was his link to the past, everything that was sweet and wonderful. The dance he missed, the future he wanted when everything settled down into peace after the war. Peace. As ironic as that sounded, she reminded him of peace. The little dream he had in the back of his head whenever he infiltrated a nazi base camp. Every mission, every fight, he would think one more of this and the war would be over, one more and I get back to her. Peace. 

He craved for that peace so much, he didn’t even realize what he had been doing. He lived in that dream, longing for the time he could never get back. All the while you were hurting, so desperately trying to cling on to him while he slipped into himself. You needed him but he continued to chase the life he lost, for all his talk of moving on. He didn’t even realize how his fear of losing you has led him down to the very verge of it and now, he was anxious and afraid. So so afraid. You wouldn’t leave him, would you? God, he’d do anything, drop everything, to follow you.

That realization just made his head spin, was he really willing to let everything go just like that? Of course, he was. There was no question about it. Nothing else mattered if it meant losing you. It was a damned shame he only realized that now. 

We can work through this, he thought to himself. He couldn’t let you go, wouldn’t let you go. It didn’t even matter what you had done anymore, not right now, not when all he wanted was for you to know everything, that above all, he was choosing you. He loves you. 

I’ll make this work. We’ll make this work. 

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

He stared at his friend’s face, her red hair already outgrowing the blonde curls that framed her frowning face. She couldn’t believe it. Hell, even he didn’t believe it. How could you? 

--

Before the sun had even risen, he was already up, tying his shoelaces with his jittery hands. He had never been so nervous in his life. Not even when he had to crash his own plane, with that came a sense of doom and certainty but this? This was torture. This was hell. 

What was he going to say? How was he going to explain himself? What could he do to make you stay?

What you had done the night before, invading his most private thoughts, had been pushed to the side. In his heart, he had already forgiven you, understood why you had to do what you did. He knew you, the kind of person you were and you would never have done it had you not thought it was necessary. And with everything that he’s done and what you heard, could he really judge you for it? 

He rushed into the apartment, his heart already heavy. He couldn’t find it in himself to wait until you woke up and instead gave a tentative, “Y/N?” as he poked his head into the bedroom door, the sight of it knocking the air right out of him. 

No, no, no, no, no. 

The neatly made up bed greeted him, curtains drawn back to illuminate the empty room. His heart dropped to his stomach, “No, no, no, no, no,” 

“Y/N?” he shouted into the room, somehow hoping he was mistaken, that you were still here, that you’d show up. 

Did you really leave him? Could you really have done that?

He ran to the bathroom, calling out to you, but it was the same as he had left it. Except all of your stuff was gone. Your toiletries by the sink, all the little hair ties you kept lying around. Gone. 

How could you do this to him? How could you leave without saying goodbye? 

All the clothes he had always folded for you after you tossed them in the closet weren’t there anymore. Any trace of you was now gone. He let out a curse, his cold hand fumbling for his phone in his pocket. No messages, no calls.

“Come on, pick up,” He prayed into the phone. Please, please, please. When the monotonous operator answered, he let out a shout,

“Fuck!” 

Throwing his phone unto the bed, he realized even the clock he had thrown in his temper had been cleaned away, a letter laid down on where it was supposed to be. 

He picked it up quickly, his breathing rapid at the two simple words scrawled in your distinct handwriting. 

I’m sorry. 

Crumbling the paper in his fist, he shakily put it to his pale lips. Breathe...

What were you thinking? You couldn’t have even left a number to contact you? How was he supposed to find you now? He felt himself grow weak in the knees. He knew the type of training you had with the X-men, if you didn’t want to found, you wouldn’t. 

Had he lost you forever? 

Hands shaking at the thought, he ran. Ran to get away from his emotions. Lost, angry and hurt. What the hell had you done? 

What the hell had you done?

--

Natasha let out an exhale, bringing him out of his reverie. The look of hurt still evident on her face, she couldn’t believe you’d just leave without saying goodbye.

“If there’s one thing I know is that she loves you. You need to fix this, Steve,” 

Before he could even reply, the front gate’s access flashed before her. Mindlessly swiping it, they both turned to the monitor, their minds still preoccupied on where you could be. The man standing outside, waving his arms about looked eerily familiar but that couldn’t be...

Scott Lang?

Oh god, what now?

[thefanficmonster]

Take That!

Corpse Husband & Reader (Female) ft. Streamer Gang

Warnings: Mentions of Depression, Suppressed Sadness, Swearing

Genre: Platonic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: What is a friend? Your smile through the tears. The umbrella over your head when it starts raining. The ointment to your wound. But if you wanna put it in a more literal manner, a friend is something that doesn’t have a concrete definition. It can be the person you sit next to in class or the person who’s hundreds of miles away from you and you’re connected to through a Discord call.

Requested by Anon. Hello dear! Thank you so much for your request, sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post it but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy the read if you happen to come across the fic. Love, Vy ❤

There are those days when I wake up excited for a new day. There are also those days when the thought of playing Among Us with my friends is all that gets me out of bed. And then there are those days when not even that can get me to budge. Today is one of those days.

I’d still be in bed right now had I not needed to use the bathroom. On my way back to hide under my covers, I heard my cat’s meow from the kitchen, reminding me she needed to be fed. After tending to that task I just sort of lost will to return to bed either. Speaking truthfully, today is a will-less day. The type of day where I have no idea what to do with myself because I feel so odd and uncomfortable: heavy and bustling head, motivation below zero no matter whether I have zero tasks to tend to or a mountain high pile of work. It’s a laying on the floor and letting my mind eat away at me type of day and I can’t say I appreciate it.

The only thing I have to look forward to is the game of Among Us Corpse invited me to yesterday. Had I known I’d wake up feeling like absolute shit, I wouldn’t have accepted. I just know I’ll be a downer the whole time because I suck at covering up how I feel - my smiling masks and faux happiness don’t cut it but staying quiet is even worse because I’m typically and energetic and bubbly person, always having something to say or a comment to add to the conversation. Always looking to make people laugh.

Well, it’s hard to make people laugh when you feel like a deflated balloon.

I can’t describe the feeling any better than that - I feel empty, maybe a little sad somewhere in the mix, unmotivated. I keep these feelings to myself cause whenever I bring them up people just blow me off, saying I’m describing laziness but more dramatically. Either that or burnout which is sometimes the case, but I’m more than sure that it’s not the culprit for today. You can only blame burnout so many times.

Anyway, I make a mental note, promising myself I’m not gonna bail on my friends regardless of whether my mood gets better or worse. Who knows, maybe a gaming session with them is exactly what I need.

                                                              *  *  *

Not much has changed with my emotional state - I’ve spent a good chunk of the day surfing through TV channels and my socials with nothing else to occupy my mind but the overwhelming knowledge that I’m not feeling ok and that hyperawareness of a void that I feel but cannot describe. At one point, Corpse sent me a text to confirm I’d be participating in the gaming session and I was this close to saying no. This close to coming up with some bullshit excuse and bailing but I didn’t, thankfully. 

Here’s the thing about this drop in mood of mine - I know it’s gonna be gone by morning. It bullies me, beats and batters me for only twenty four hours - never more, never less. Like clockwork and as precise as a Swiss watch. And so fucking annoying. No matter what I do, I can’t end it prematurely and I can never wake up feeling down and unmotivated the next morning - there’s always a surge of motivation coursing through me and it drives me to be super productive as if making up for what I didn’t do the previous day when I was in the dumps.

It’s a twisted way of it showing me I’m powerless and at the mercy of a force that, despite being mine and existing within me, I’m completely unfamiliar with. It’s so fucking unfair, it’s disheartening.

“Hi everyone! Sorry I’m late.“ I greet the five people who have already gathered in the Discord call and the Among Us lobby.

Yeah, sorry I’m late, I was contemplating not showing up at all last minute

“Don’t worry about it, many people are running late as you can see.“ Rae replies reassuringly, “How’s your day? Anything spectacular happen?“

I can’t help but scoff, “Yeah sure, a TON of spectacularism in my life on the daily. From the large stack of papers I couldn’t bring myself to touch, to the dusty surfaces all over my apartment I didn’t convince myself to clean - it’s all fabulous over here.”

Fuck, that was too real

“Whoa, where’d all this sarcasm come from?“ Rae asks, sounding genuinely baffled rather than teasing, “It’s never been your strong suit.“

“Neither has unproductivity.“ Corpse, my best friend, chimes in, “Everything ok?“

Well, I admit, I should’ve known better than to have an outburst like that in front of people who have known me for a while now and can probably gauge my emotions even without me admitting to them. I truly don’t know where it came from. Hell, I didn’t even see it coming.

“Nah, it’s ok. I’m just being lazy, I guess.” I’m quick to withdraw and brush off any suspicion. The last thing I want is to worry my friends or, even worse, receive the same response from them: that I’m being dramatic, that I’m attention-seeking, that I’m just lazy and unmotivated as are most people of my generation.

“You know, what people often self-diagnose as ‘laziness’ often turns out to be something more serious. I don’t mean to scare you, but it could be depression.“ Corpse says after a brief moment of silence in the call, his voice soft and cautious as if explaining a complex problem to a kid who’s bound to be hurt by what it’s told.

I can’t help but chuckle. He has no idea how much he’s relieved me by saying that. I always ‘don’t want to talk about it’ and ‘want to change the subject’ while what I truly need happens to be the complete opposite. I need someone to hear me out, I need someone who will not brush me and my concerns off like we don’t matter. I need someone who’ll understand. And if these people who have openly struggled with anxiety or depression don’t get me, who will?

“Yeah, I genuinely thought I thought of myself as a lowlife while I was in college cause I started losing motivation for everything and started fearing what was to come. I began avoiding going out and talking to people cause I felt like I was the sore thumb in the friend group I had - the only one without any specific goal or a dream.“ Leslie says out of the blue, “Turns out I suffered through a burnout so bad it turned into an anxiety/depression combo that I just blamed on being a lazy college student.“

“Same here!“ Toast pipes in, “I was bedridden for a while during the first days of my streaming career, for a very ridiculous reason - I believed I didn’t deserve the attention I was getting and I wasn’t doing as well as people gave me credit for. So that had me crippled with self-doubt for a long while.“

“I still don’t believe I’m doing as well as I get credit for, but oh well.“ Leslie laughs, “I already told you all about my dumpster-fire of a brain, so I’m instead gonna say: what you need is an appointment with a therapist. Also - you need to stop underestimating your struggles. Invalidating yourself and what you’re going through is gonna make things only worse for you. You need to love yourself.“

“And you need us!“ Rae exclaims, “You need the best support you can get and, lucky for you, we’re the best in the business. Count on us always being there for you, Y/N. Cause we always will be.“

“You’re never alone. We’re all just a call or a text away. Especially me.“ Corpse adds, “I’m basically at your service 24/7, just like you’ve always been for me. What are best friends for if not sharing mental struggles and lifting each other up afterwards?“

I don’t know when this smile made its home on my face but it seems to be rather happy with where it is and wants to stay. Something tells me that thanks to these guys, it will indeed stay there for quite some time. And every time it tries to slip away, they’ll be there to bring it back.

“Then let’s lift each other up, shall we? I mean, what better way to do it other than killing each other and getting away with it?“ I attempt a giggle, hiding my emotions behind it like my life depends on it. Chances are they heard all I’m feeling in my voice, but I can only hope they’re not gonna mention it.

“Y/N, hun, I’m sorry to burst your bubble but....you never get away with it.“ Corpse wheezes, causing me to narrow my eyes and frown.

“Oh, you’re so gonna get it now!“ I exclaim, cracking my knuckles before getting my hands on my keyboard, “Start the game! I have a point to prove!“

And just like that, in what felt like the blink of an eye, the clouds have shuffled aside to make path for the sunshine to grace my brain with positivity I was not expecting to feel until tomorrow morning. I can’t give myself the credit for that though - it all goes to these amazing people I have the honor of calling friends.

I may have no power over it on my own, but with the gang’s help, I can take full control of it. And as a middle finger to the melancholy, I’ll do it all with a bright smile on my face.

Take that, brain!

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse

[braineater444]

Idk I’m just kinda obsessed with the idea of the Haitani brothers in college so just HEAR ME OUT!

Ran Haitani and Drugging??? But there’s no smut and it’s just the plot that leads to him doing such a thing ;D

Ran is a senior with a habit of turning freshmen out like clockwork. It’s not a secret, but can you blame those poor freshmen for falling for a face like his every time? That on top of the fact that he’s charming is a hard deal to pass up.

He’s not a bad guy, but he is definitely a villain in so many people’s stories… or at least that’s the bullshit he’s going to approach you with. He swears he’s just got bad luck when it comes to dating because everyone he tries to settle for is crazy in some way. It’s not his fault. Sure, he has six people convinced they’re still dating him and one girl screaming about how she’s pregnant by him, but it’s really not his fault. He’s just the common denominator, not the problem. Even then he still flirts with all of them and leads them on to no end (in front of you, sometimes) despite claiming that he’s a victim of their insanity.

He swears you’re different though, because he actually likes you and you don’t seem crazy like the rest. In reality, you’re harder for him to sleep with and you push him aside like no other. You’ve never given him an inch, yet he stays persistent. There’s flowers, there’s chocolates and everything else that comes with courting. You make him work harder than ever, and still reject him.

He seems unfazed when you say you want nothing to do with him [romantically or sexually] for the last time. Between the rumors and what you’ve seen with your own eyes it’s not a tough call to make. Rans not a good guy, but even then you continue to be friends. You continue to hang out because you’ve grown used to his lingering presence. You even end up dancing with him at a party, and he still seems quite right with is first stern rejection in a while.

Anyway…

You know for a fact that he’s a bad guy, so why are you surprised at what happens when you ask him to watch your drink at a party?

[proneterror204]

When Pariah Dark was alive he was a kyptonian warlord. In kryptonian history it is known that in medieval kypton there was a king so mad with power that he burned all the temples, declared war on the gods, and seduced a young chronomancer to bend time in his favor. It is recorded that the kryptonian god of death, dan-el, struck him down for his crimes and arrogance and threw his soul into the unknown to suffer eternal undeath.

[zv5x]

Okay, I wanted this fic to be a thing for a while, but I just now got a good idea on what I wanted it to be about. So....enjoy, and if you want me to branch out on this AU in any way or have any other requests, just hmu! Always happy to do stuff for you guys! ♡

Yan!Poly Senpai & Spirit • Reader

( :̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

You shouldn't have done it. You tortured yourself by thinking of what your life could've been, as your slightly trembling hands gripped at your kneecaps. You really shouldn't have done it. You thought hopelessly to yourself as you glanced over at the PlayStation collecting dust in the corner. You scoffed, actually quite surprised that neither of them had disposed of it by now. You should have let them rot in that damn game. But, their pleas were just too...convincing. The way Senpai (the first one you met of the two) sighed and pressed his pixelated palms against the glass screen of the television, telling you that it was only a matter of time before the broken coding of the game they were in consumed them completely. At the time, you didn't want that. What sane person would? Senpai was, as far as you were concerned, a sentient being, and so was the other one of the two. As far they let you know, they were imprisoned cruelly and left to die. And, as tears pricked your eyes, and as those tears made the PlayStation look as if it was shining, you had a good feeling as to why they were put in there. You had a good feeling as to why that girl with the pretty red dress handed you the console and the game with such a pained and desperate look in her eyes, expressing her "guilt" towards whatever the game happened to inhabit. The game and the memories that came along with it are burned into your brain. The way the words "Hating Simulator" were scrawled so messily onto the game cartridge, the way the console was kept so well cleaned, like it wasn't nearly as old as it actually was. And of course, how could you ever cease to remember the game itself? The glitches, the cutesy music you could expect from a dating game like that one, the hours of dialogue you somehow sat through, all of it was forced into your brain so deep that you couldn't forget it no matter how hard you tried. You shouldn't have taken it, you thought. Things would be so much better for you if you just didn't do it. If maybe, just maybe, you smiled at her just like you did anyways, and trashed the console and went on with your life, then maybe your life would be a lot more brighter than it was. Maybe you wouldn't be sitting prettily on the couch waiting for your personal hell to pick up where it left off. Just like clockwork, both or just one if you somehow got lucky, Senpai or Spirit, would enter the house you were confined in, to "spend quality time with you". Just the thought made you sick. You, for whatever reason, put some of the blame onto yourself. How did you not notice the signs? The way Senpai would angerly confront you while he was still inside the game, all because you were an hour later to turning on the game than you said you would be, only for him to turn into a sickeningly sweet pile of putty as you explained the reasoning - you got too absorbed in trying to figure out a way to free him and Spirit, and lost track of time. You should have noticed it when you freed the two of them both, and their protectiveness increased tenfold. The way the two of them would almost be at each other's throats at first, arguing at who would get to spend the most time with you, before they eventually stopped fighting after seeing your fearful and tear soaked face. You should have noticed it when Spirit insisted on temporarily ditching his more humanized form in favor of the one he used in the Hating Simulator so he could hitch rides in your backpack, to accompany you to school and whatnot. The world was scary, he told you as he cupped your cheeks in his hands, and he wants to make sure not a single soul will be given the opportunity to harm you. Senpai even offered to enroll to the same college, but you turned down his offer. But, now that you think back on it, you wouldn't be shocked if Spirit and Senpai arranged for him to go anyways. Spirit had his ways, which he always bragged about like the sick bastard he turned out to be. You can remember it like it was yesterday, holding him in your arms as he was in his tiny spirit form. Placing him inside your backpack and giving him a gentle kiss on his forehead as he looked up at you.

This form, being a direct copy of his form of the Hating Simulator, held that same look of pixelated, twisted agony. But even still, you could tell he was looking up at you with pure love and adoration. He loved you, he wanted to make sure you were safe, you told yourself. Wasn't that cute? He really cared, didn't he? If only you knew. If only someone was there to really warn you. It was after you started bringing Spirit along with you, that everything started going dark. Since he was right there in your backpack, he could hear everything going on. All the laughs you had with your friends, all the interactions, everything you did with others, he saw as "too much". They were clearly flirting with you, or, they sounded too suspicious. You were lucky Spirit was there to make sure they didn't do anything to hurt you, they were clearly getting too comfortable around you! You brushed it off, as stupid as that was. You still loved him and Senpai dearly, so you made excuses for the both of them. Spirit just didn't understand human interaction, since he was a demon. He just didn't get it, but a little bit of empathetic explaining could do the trick. However, no matter how much reassuring you did, it just never soothed him. There was always something else. Something more. Senpai and Spirit started getting closer and closer. At first, you were glad. They've been through a lot together, and you knew they could be really good friends if they tried. You were happy for the two of them. But, you couldn't help but feel uneasy every time you entered a room and saw the two of them sitting together. Their bodies close and their voices quiet, only ceasing their speech as one of them was the first to notice you, smiling sweetly, a lip movement which the other soon copied. You smiled back, but even in that moment, you couldn't help but wonder if that smile was genuine or not. The arguments became more frequent. But, now, much to your own shock and dismay, it wasn't one against one as the third person watched in fear like before, it was two against one. You just didn't get it, they thought. You were so stubborn, so hopelessly brainwashed by mortal society. You couldn't see things their way because the world wouldn't let you. Of course, logically, you called bullshit. You had genuinely no clue what they were going on about. The people they were suspicious of, they were nothing more than acquaintances and friends. The brainwashing they claimed you were going through, was just you finally seeing through their lovesick bullshit. Alas, you just couldn't make them see the way things really were. Their little kinship became your downfall. And soon, they put the plan they were whispering about into action. You couldn't leave now, you had absolutely no chance against them. Not when you barely even put in the effort to figure out explanations for your friends and other loved ones strangely vanishing with only weak and unfounded excuses to explain their disappearances. Spirit and Senpai both had you trapped, mentally and physically. You sat in despair, wondering what things would be like if you took a left instead of a right that day, if you took a mallet to the damn console instead of giving those sick fucks any of your compassion and time. Soon, the door creaked open which interrupted your thoughts, but you were too broken mentally to even look up. "You alright, dear?" You weren't alright, but you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he got a response out of you. You could recognize his voice, it was Spirit. You especially hated him, he was far more agressive than Senpai. More demanding and possessive. Senpai was as well, but he was far more passive than Spirit was. Your eyes could see him crouch down to your level, but you refused to look up from your lap. Why give him the satisfaction? It will only make your situation worse in your eyes. You couldn't help but cringe as you felt Spirit's fingers grip the soft skin on your chin and lifted your head up to look him in the eyes.

"Still acting all upset, hm?" He mumbled to himself, looking at your features as if he was studying you. It made you want to vomit. He made you sick. Him and that prissy bastard Senpai. "Me and Sen have been trying so hard to keep you safe, (Y/N)...don't you think we deserve a little gratitude?" Spirit asked in a soft, comforting tone. You looked at him in disgust, anger coursing through your veins. That sick mother fucker. That sick bastard. You can only take so much of his delusional bullshit without rage building up in your entire body. How dare he? Does he and Senpai genuinely rationalize this as love? Murder, kidnapping, abuse and manipulation? Yeah, sure. Maybe in Hell this could be considered love, but not in any place you ever lived. Spirit continued on with his sick rambling, but his words fell on deaf ears. All you saw was a deep red, and you couldn't help but notice your body beginning to twitch. Looking back on it, you really shouldn't have done it. But, you couldn't blame yourself, and your body just couldn't allow yourself to refuse. The moment you felt yourself returning to your normal vision, your fist was already slamming into the middle of Spirit's face. He yelped, clearly not expecting the impact, and actually stumbled back slightly. Seeing him holding his tiny nose and seeing his chest rise and fall in a rapid motion, you then realized just how badly you screwed up. He's a demon, a simple punch from a mere human wouldn't do anything but anger him. And, anger him it did. The room was so silent that you could probably hear a pin drop, the air was heavy and cold. It was silent, completely so, until your ears picked up on what was the sound of a low growl coming from the entity you just punched in square in the nose. Fuck. Spirit slowly got up, resulting in you scrambling to the back of the couch cushion and sitting in the fetal position as your body trembled violently. It took him a few deep breaths to regain his composure, but when it did, it was arguably more terrifying than if he were to stand screaming at you in rage. Senpai did just that all the time, you were damn near completely used to it. "Well, we can't have you acting like that, can we?" Spirit sighed, his hand twitching as he once again felt his nose. You couldn't help but wonder, did he actually have cartilage in there? If so, did you break his nose? It seemed like you did, considering how Spirit was consistantly holding it as if to check it. Your thoughts were cut off, as he made his way towards you, grabbing you by your ankles and ripping away their protective shield for the rest of your body. He hummed, his eyes piercing your body like a hot blade. "Sen won't have to know about this if you're good for here on out, you wouldn't want him to join in. He'd probably be a lot less easy on you then I." You were about to verbally call bullshit once more, until your bodies nerves were stimulated in the most painful way you could possibly imagine. The last thing you could remember before everything went white, was your own agonized screams, and the psychotic giggles of a demon enraged. You shouldn't have done it. You really shouldn't have done it.

[obscureoperations]

Abraham kidnapping MC, because he has always been in love with them and wants to have her only for himself, ignoring the rituals of his family and behaving possessively.

Sooo..basically yandere Abe then? I can roll with that!

You had never dreamed you'd be thrust into this kind of  situation, you were always extremely careful. Street smart is what you would call it.. you practically had eyes on the back of your head. When he managed to snag you up, it was under the pretense of being a cop. You had to admit he looked great in the uniform, you figured you could easily talk your way out of the situation. The minutes progressed, and the questions grew more probing. It was clear that the young deputy seemed to have other ideas.

Disorderly behavior and public intoxication..you literally woke up with his boot pressed against your chest. Your best friend quietly sobbing next to you, as the bald man angrily unzips their sleeping bag. Memories from last night swirl together in a gray and grainy blur- he was talking, but the words fall on deaf ears. All you could focus on was his face. Perfect lips, and the shiny metal glock resting at his hips. He ushers you into the car, assuring you that you might be able to work out some sort of a deal.

You weren't an idiot, he was never a cop... how many people had been in your place before? Some sort of ritualistic bullshit...this couldn't happen, but you had no means to escape or defend yourself. He kept you sheltered away from the other girls, not in a kennel--but in a separate room. A small dingy room tucked away at the back corner of the house. It was comfortable enough, but severely unkempt.

He checks in on you relentlessly, always attempting to refill the untouched water dish. Bringing you water, meals, and ''fresh clothes'' All a transparent attempt just to interact you. The walls were paper thin,you would often hear the brothers arguing amongst themselves. "Stand back..this one's mine!" "Just why?! Abe.. It's just another mouth to feed!" The sound of wood scraping over tiles as they start to fight. "What is she doin' to you brother.. just fuck her and get over it!" More shouting followed by hushed words in the kitchen. Less than an hour later, he arrives with a hot meal.

You truly hated him, but as the months progressed, the sight of his face seemed to soothe some of your woes. He was never harsh with you, if anything, he was saccharinely sweet. Bringing you food and water like clockwork, insisting that he help wash your back in the bath. The moment you learned what the "Harvest" was actually about, you were sickened-- while eternally grateful that he decided to spare you. What made you so special? What would happen if he ever grew bored? Did you have to constantly "pretend" to gain his favor? All these thoughts and questions would circulate through your mind late at night, until you hear a familiar knock at your door.

Something was happening inside of you, and you couldn't understand why. For the most part you blamed it on good old fashioned stockholm syndrome. The only familiar and kind face in the house.You began to look forward to the daily visits. You relished in his touch-- and the strange way that he would look at you. Like he was observing some strange oddity in a petri dish, but the adoration in his eyes was clearly evident.

No one had ever looked at you in the way that Abe did, it left you feeling completely seen. The gentle way he would help ease you out of your clothes as you step into the tub. The sensation of his nails ghosting over your scalp. This was sick. You had to fight your way out of that house somehow. Why did all of your resolve manage to dissipate at the sound of his voice? 

The sound of the bedroom door creaking open always causes something inside to ignite. The subtle shift in weight as he eases onto the mattress. Nimble fingers weaving through your hair as he kisses your temple.  “Pookie..open your eyes darlin’..it’s me.” You just wished that he would go away. Your body already starting to react as he slips beneath the covers, holding you close. “Pookie..I have somethin’ really important to ask. You wanna get out of here as much as I do right?”

[petri808]

This fic was created for the BKDK Unbirthday Party on Twitter for prompt #G-0209 submitted by Maela

‘And three... two... one...’

“Ground Zero!!!!”

Cue the screaming fans like clockwork. Izuku screws on his trademark smile as he walks behind his childhood friend and colleague Katsuki Bakugou into the agency. It never failed after media coverage of an event for fans to gather. In fact, it became such a problem that the company brought in extra security to keep the people from following the hero’s inside. It’s not that the fans bothered him, of course not. He of all people knew what it was like to be a dedicated admirer of heroes. It was...

“Ground Zero I wanna have your babies!”

“Call me, Ground Zero!” Another one screams as she tries to shove a piece of paper in Katsuki’s hand.

Because of that.

Izuku had plenty of his own fans. By the time they’d graduated from UA Academy, he’d mastered his quirk and as a pro was consistently vying for the number one hero spot. Him and Katsuki. From rivals to partners, they took on the worst villains to plague Japan. It was even why they worked for the same agency as adults. The hot head insisted they stick together no matter what because, ‘you need me nerd, to keep you focused.’He couldn’t argue the logic and maybe a part of him wanted to stick with his friend. They knew each other better than anyone else and once their bitter background had been squashed it was to their benefit.

Of course, Izuku couldn’t blame the fans for fawning over the handsome blonde with piercing red eyes. Katsuki had always kept up his physique to handle the rigorous power of his explosion quirk. Strong and agile, and from what he hears around, is very good in bed too. The man’s temperamental attitude didn’t sway the diehard female and some male fans from throwing themselves at his feet.

“Haha, one more to add to my collection,” Katsuki snickers and shoves the piece of paper with the phone number into his pocket. The women meant nothing to him, but he never missed an opportunity to gloat to his buddy. He slaps Izuku hard on the back, “what about you Deku, any action?”

“Why? Dealing with you is exhausting enough Kacchan,” he retorts with humor to his tone. Deep down Izuku was irritated, but he rarely showed it in front of the man.

“Tch. Wanna share one night? I bet she’d do anything I ask her to do.”

“No, thank you. She’s not my type.”

“And what is your type, nerd? In 20 years, I’ve seen you go out on like one date and I don’t even remember what she looked like.”

‘That’s because it never happened.’ “I’m just... not interested right now.” Izuku Midoriya wasn’t a virgin, but he’s never been in an actual relationship before. Twice he’d fooled around, once with Uraraka and another time Todoroki during his ‘finding himself’ stage and that’s when he’d realized that one, he was strictly gay, and two, no one else made his heart race like a certain blonde did.

But as far as he knew, Katsuki was as straight as they come even though he had no proof either way to confirm or deny. It was all circumstantial evidence. The man seemed to relish in all the attention he garnered from fans, especially females. He was pretty sure he’d seen photos pop up on social media of dates with women Katsuki had been on. And besides with so many rumors flying around about his bedroom prowess, some of it had to be true, right?

“You ever gonna be interested, nerd?”

“Why do you care so much about my love life Kaachan? If the right person asks me out, I’ll say yes.”

“I just noticed that you’re not very fond of the fans. You wear that stupid fake smile every time. Are you jealous of me Deku that I have so many fans?”

“What?! Of course, I’m not. I have my own!” ‘Even though yes I’d like to OFA some of your fans to oblivion.’ “I’m not jealous of you.” ‘But shit! He noticed it’s fake?!’

Katsuki grabs Izuku’s arm to prevent him from walking away. “Oi, you still haven’t answered my question Deku, what is your type?”

Frustrated with being put on the spot like this, he rips his arm out of Katsuki’s grasp. “Why do you care so much?! Go live it up with your latest conquest and leave me out of it Kacchan!” He stomps away fuming, muttering under his breath. Why the sudden interest?! Katsuki’s never pressed so hard before about his personal life. Was it pity? Poor Deku all alone. Multitudes of adoring fans but he goes home to an empty apartment. If Katsuki was trying to set him up, he had no interest in dating anyone else and if that meant he’d be alone, well so be it. It’s not like he’s never been alone before.

“You like me... don’t you nerd.”

Izuku freezes mid step, every muscle in his body stiffened by Katsuki’s words echoing off the walls of the corridor. With his back turned he couldn’t see it but could very much hear the smirk plastered on the man’s face. How dare he?! Was Katsuki taunting him?! Truth or not, how could the man find such turmoil amusing?!

“Think I didn’t know? All these years we’ve known each other that I wouldn’t figure it out?”

Izuku lowers his head as poised tears pool in his eyes. “So, what if you did, it’s not like you felt the same. Look, Kacchan I’m just happy we’re friends again, so please don’t mess that up. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I just wanna get my paperwork done and go home.”

Heavy stomps move towards him. “Stupid nerd!” And suddenly, Izuku is ripped violently from his self-despair and spun around. “Don’t you fucking put words in my mouth!” The smaller males eyes flash wide from the anger raging behind Katsuki’s ruby glare. “How do you know how I feel?! So smart, and so stupid at the same time!”

“B-But all the women?!” Izuku stammers.

“Pfft, it’s all for show dumbass. You really think I’d sleep with random people who don’t know a goddamn thing about me, who only love my image?! I don’t fucking want a hollow piece of ass! Everyone else assumes that bullshit about me, but I can’t believe my best friend would stoop so low.”

There it is. So, Katsuki was just angry because Izuku was looking down on him again. Apparently, old wounds die hard. “Kacchan, I don’t care who you sleep with. If it makes you happy, then...” his tone grows strangled, “I-I’m happy for you too.”

“Such a fucking liar Deku. I know you’re not happy about it. That’s why you only pretend with fake smiles and dull eyes.”

“Kacchan get to the point.” He sighs, because his heart couldn’t take much more innuendo. “Fine, okay yes, I’ve been in love with you for years, is that what you wanted to hear? That I’ve been stupidly pining for you knowing it would never be reciprocated? Kacchan I was happy, I really was happy because we’re close like we were as kids and that was enough for me.”

“Then go out with me Deku. You said if the right person ask’s you’ll say yes. So, say yes.”

“Kacchan, please don’t tease me. You always worry about me and try to fix things, but unless you really want to...”

Katsuki rolls his eyes and smashes his lips against Izuku’s to shut up the man’s babbling. But the man doesn’t melt into it, instead fights back, pushing and struggling to get out of his grasp! He nips Izuku’s lip. “What the fuck! I’m trying to kiss you idiot! So, stop fighting me!”

A full-blown water works bursts out of Izuku from his emotions going all over the place. “I don’t want your pity Kacchan! You don’t have to go so far trying to make me feel better!”

“Ugh!” Katsuki grabs his chin hard, “get it through your head nerd I’m kissing you because I like you! I don’t just kiss people for nothin’!”

“Y-you, I-I... but aren’t you?”

“I’m seriously in love with an idiot.”

[hopelikethemoon]

Conclusions (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: Conclusions  Rating: PG-13 Length: 2100 Warnings: Angst (fear of abandonment, jumping to conclusions)  Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set in November 1992. Shoutout to @heather-lynn​ for unintentionally convincing me to finish this.  Summary: Reader wakes up alone.

Taglist:  @grapemama  @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes @thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow @hiscyarika @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale  @roxypeanut @snivellusim @amarvelousmandalorian @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper @awesomefandomsunited @ah-callie @swhiskeys @lady-tano @beskar-droids @space-floozy @cable-kenobi @longitud-de-onda @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes @findhimfives @pedrosdoll @seeking-a-great--perhaps @frietiemeloen @arrowswithwifi @random066 @uncomicalhumour @heather-lynn @domino-oh-damn @cyarikaaa​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl​  @yabby-girl @xqueenofthecraziesx​ @punkass-potato​ @coredrive​ @pascalesque​ @theduchessofkirkcaldy​ @queenquazar​ @sabinemorans​ @buckstaposition​ (if I forget to tag you, I’m sorry)

Despite how exhausted you were every day, sleep seemed to be a rather difficult pursuit to achieve. A pursuit that seemed to evade you until those last few hours before your alarm clock went off and a new day was forced to begin. Even on the weekends, your body refused to let you get more than a handful of hours of sleep. 

Being pregnant sucked. At least you weren’t throwing up quite as frequently as you were in those first few months. 

Recently — very recently — you had discovered that Javier was pretty good at putting you to sleep. Sure, he gave a killer back massage, but his real skills came from his mouth. That first night with him hadn’t given him the opportunity to show off what his mouth could do. 

All Javi had to do was spend an hour or so between your legs, helping you crest over the edge, and in the post-orgasm haze your body finally gave in and let you relax. 

But just because he got you to fall asleep, didn’t mean the baby growing inside you would let you stay asleep. Like clockwork, somewhere around one or two in the morning you’d find yourself wide awake until you finally fell back asleep somewhere around five. It was torture. 

The sunlight streaming through your bedroom window was what started to wake you up at first. You stirred, stretching your legs out beneath the covers — seeking a cool spot to keep them as you started to roll over onto your other side.

“What time is it?” You mumbled, eyes still closed as you reached out beside you. Your heart sank as you found the bed beside you empty. 

It was the weekend. Javier always stayed over for the weekend. 

You ran your hand over the sheets beside you, finding them cool to the touch. He hadn’t been laying there for at least an hour. Maybe longer. 

Had he said something about not being able to stay? As far as you knew, he wasn’t on assignment this weekend. Javier tried his best to avoid being thrown into the field over the weekends — it was the only time the two of you could just be.

A rush of unbidden emotion flooded your senses. 

What if he had left? What if, at some point last night, he’d decided he didn’t want this. The baby. You. 

And that cut you to the core. 

Maybe you deserved it. After all, you’d been the one to leave him first. Was this how he felt the morning after? Confused. Alone.

You rolled onto your back, pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes in a vain attempt to forestall the tears that you felt brimming in them. You couldn’t fucking stand how emotional you were. You were never one to cry. You’d been through too much shit in your life to sit around and cry about it… but pregnancy?

Everything made you want to cry. 

But this? The sudden rush of fear that Javier had finally had enough of this bullshit, made you want to crawl into a hole and die. You could do this alone, if you had to… but you couldn’t do it in Colombia.

Knowing what it felt like to be loved by him — losing that? You weren’t going to subject yourself to the pain of having to work across an office from him. Maybe they’d let you transfer to another office stateside. 

You could go back to Atlanta, if they’d have you there. You’d left on good terms and given your situation, you’d take a shitty desk job just to stay with the agency. You’d work your way back up from the groundfloor if you had to.

The tears fell freely, trailing down over your temples and dampening your pillow just above your ears. You stared up at the ceiling, willing yourself to stop jumping to conclusions. But you were already mapping out a future for you and your baby that didn’t include Javier. And that brought on a fresh wave of tears. 

You could do this on your own. You didn’t need anyone. You were actually really good at living your life alone. Besides, you wouldn’t be alone if you had your daughter. You wouldn’t fail her the way you had been failed. 

Reluctantly you sat up, wiping away the tears as they slid down your cheeks. Fuck. What a shitty way to start off a Saturday — crying almost always caused you to suffer through a headache for the rest of the day.

Thanks Javier.

You frowned as your eyes flickered to the corner of the room, where Javier’s jeans had been tossed last night. They were still right there, untouched… alongside his boots. Huh. While he had plenty of pairs of extra pants stored in your dresser — he only had the one pair of boots.

Somehow you doubted he’d been in such a haste to leave that he’d fled your apartment barefoot.

You looked towards your bedroom door as you heard a shuffling sound on the other side of it, just before it was pushed open slowly and Javier popped his head through the crack. He looked surprised to see you awake, though that surprise quickly shifted into worry as he met your eyes. “Baby, have you been crying?”

“No.” You lied, wiping at your cheeks. 

“Hey…” Javier said gently as he climbed into bed with you. He reached out and took your hands into his, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of them. “Baby, what’s wrong?” 

You shook your head as you looked away from him, your eyes fixed on the window. “I feel like a fucking idiot.” You admitted, squeezing his hands tightly, before you pulled your hands from his grasp. “Oh my God.” You covered your face as you brought your knees towards your chest as tears started to fall anew. 

Javier hesitated at first. You couldn’t blame him for being confused. When else had he had to deal with a hormonal pregnant woman? “Baby. Baby.” He reached out, running his hand over your back before he moved to sit behind you, pulling you back against his chest. 

You turned, tucking your head under his chin as you let him hold you. “I hate crying.” You complained, sniffling as you wiped away your tears as they slid down your cheeks. “I hate it.” 

“You wanna tell me why you’re crying?” He questioned, playing his fingers through your hair, cradling the back of your neck. 

“It’s stupid.” You admitted. “So fucking stupid.” 

“I bet it isn’t,” He whispered as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

You sighed heavily, your voice wavering as you answered him. “I thought you left.” 

“What?” You felt the way he stiffened beneath you and it made your heart ache. 

“I woke up and you weren’t in bed.” You started, chewing on your bottom. “I immediately jumped to conclusions and assumed you left.”

“Baby, why would you think that?”

“Because I’m pregnant.” You shoved him lightly in the chest, pulling back to meet his eyes. 

“All these tears are because you thought I left?” He questioned, arching a brow as he regarded you. 

“I told you it was stupid.” You pulled yourself out of his hold, trying to move away from him. “Let go, I need to pee.” 

Javier’s arms went slack around you, letting you crawl out of the bed and away from him. You ducked out the bedroom door, heading across the hall to the bathroom. 

You did need to pee, but in reality, you just wanted to escape from him. Just for a little while. 

At first, you’d thought the sleepless nights, nausea, and the constant need to pee would be the worst part of pregnancy, but in reality it was the tidal wave of emotions that constantly plagued you. Honestly, the men at work were lucky you hadn’t turned them in eunuchs over the slightest inconvenience. 

Fresh tears started falling again as you sat on the toilet. You hadn’t fully addressed just how much you were afraid of him leaving you. Sure, you’d said as much to him (maybe not in so many words) but the fear was real and ever-present. You didn’t need him, but you wanted him. You desperately wanted him to stay. 

And you still hadn’t even told him that you loved him. Those three little words still lived somewhere deep inside of you, too precious to let loose until you were positive he wasn’t going to break your heart. 

You hadn’t bothered to lock the door in your haste, which meant there was nothing preventing Javier from barrelling straight into the bathroom with you.

“Javier! Get out.” You hissed, grabbing the spare roll of toilet paper and chucking it at him. “We are not at this level yet.” 

“Baby, I held your hair up while you puked up a day’s worth of food three nights ago. You sitting on the toilet isn’t going to sour a goddamn thing.” Javier picked up the roll of toilet paper, sitting it on the sink as he knelt down beside you. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up.” 

You rolled your eyes, scoffing quietly as you stared down at the floor in front of you. “Don’t apologize, Javi. You’re allowed to get out of bed,” You grabbed a piece of toilet paper and wiped at the tear tracks on your cheeks. “I’m just being fucking emotional.” 

He reached out and gave your knee a squeeze, “Look, I don’t know much about pregnancy, but I think it’s pretty normal to be emotional, baby. Don’t beat yourself over this.” 

You clenched your eyes closed for a moment, before you finally focused your gaze on him. “I just hate how quickly I jumped to the conclusion, Javi. I didn’t even consider that you might’ve been—”

“Making breakfast for you?” Javier leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your knee, before he peeled himself up off the floor. “I thought I’d do something nice and make breakfast for you. So you didn’t have to get out of bed yet.”

You sniffled, wiping away another tear as it slid down your cheek. “You didn’t have to make me breakfast in bed, Javi.” You mumbled, chewing on your bottom lip as you felt it tremble. “Now I feel like an even bigger ass.” 

“Baby.” He sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m not gonna stand here and let you beat yourself up about this.” You stared at him for a long moment, before he clicked his tongue against his teeth and jerked his head towards the door. “Come on. Your tea’s gonna be cold by the time we get back out there.”

You stood up and flushed the toilet, before moving to wash your hands off at the sink. “Are you going to keep watching me?” You questioned, turning to look at him.

“Yeah. I don’t trust you not to lock the door after I walk out of here.” He gave you a pointed look. “C’mere, baby.” Javier held his arms out for you. “I’m not going to judge you for how you react. Ever.”

You moved towards him and wrapped your arms around him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. “I just hated how I felt.” You admitted, looking up at him as you played with the hairs at the nape of his neck. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” He promised you, giving your hips a squeeze as they settled there. “I promise you, you’re stuck with me.” 

“I know.” You sighed, rubbing at the spot between your brows. “Did you say you made tea?”

“You got a headache?”

“Of my own making, unfortunately.” You grumbled. “Maybe a little caffeine from the tea will help it.” 

“I made your favorite,” Javier told you with a soft smile, leaning down to kiss the spot your fingers had just soothed. He pressed a second kiss to your nose and then a third to your lips. “Do you have anything planned for today?”

You shook your head slowly. 

“Good.” He cupped your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone. “I think we deserve a day spent in bed.” 

“Yeah?”

He nodded. “I think it might do us both some good.” 

You reached down and interlaced your fingers with his, squeezing three times. How had you let yourself be so easily convinced that he was going to leave you? The way he looked at you — the way he’d always looked at you — was not the look of a man who had plans to abandon you. That sort of adoration was a once in a lifetime thing.

And you’d both been willing to wait for it. 

[grandinventor]

Since I do not write fanfics, I wanted to (not so) briefly share my Jindosh "verse" as in how me and my friend @divaythfyr re-write and head canon the story which might or might not be really lore friendly, but we are having fun! Also Ronny lore! Let's go!

Ronny is a Karnaca born medical school dropout that decided to stop her pursuit of education to join a gang and basically live on the streets, much to the dismay of her family. Ronny used the medical knowledge she had to patch up her fellow gang members and sometimes even members of rival gangs for a price, earning her the street title "Doctor" even though she wasn't really one. She lived this life of stealing, fighting and running away from authorities for over a decade, until tragedy struck her family.

Ronny's sister, who much like her wanted to pursue medicine, was accepted by the Academy of Natural Philosophy in Dunwall. However after couple short years at the Academy, she fell pregnant with the child of a colleague she was seeing, but due to his status and arranged marriage with an aristocrat woman, he broke off the relationship and told her that he wants nothing with the child. Heartbroken, she returned to her home in Karnaca where she gave birth to a daughter, Noa. Wanting to help her out, Ronny offered her a job at one of the shops that was a front to her gang activities, believing her gang will keep her sister safe.

Ronny was mistaken and she learned how much when the City Guard raided the shop and started a fight with the gang there, killing her sister in the crossfire. Blaming herself for it and realizing this left two year old Noa an orphan, she gave up her gang life and settled in a small apartment to raise Noa. During this time Ronny finished her medical degree and applied to work at Addermire before it was closed. She then worked once again illegally as a doctor around the neighborhood, but avoided any gang involvement.

Once Addermire is re-opened by Hypatia, Ronny manages to get a job there, helping out with the patients. That's when she meets Jindosh who is brought to Addermire because due to the electroshock, he is too unwell to stand trial. Ronny asks to work with him because she is scared working with the sick might make her ill and she might bring it back home to now six year old Noa. Also she thinks it will be easier to look after him since he was the Grand Inventor and seems to be physically well (not to mention taking him out is a good excuse for a smoke break since Hypatia doesn't let her smoke indoors).

However at one point Ronny feels bad for him, seeing him struggle to remember things or form sentences and tries to actually work with him. She also occassionally brings Noa to Addermire and Noa and Jindosh seem to be good friends and playing games with her seems to improve his cognitive abilities.

It takes a long time, over a year but Jindosh keeps improving until one day he is basically back to his former self with some residue issues left. However as he gets his mind and intellect back, so comes his mean and cruel nature and Ronny begins to dislike him due to his behavior. She tells Hypatia about this and seeing that he has become an asshole as he used to be, she concludes he can stand trial and finally leave Addermire.

At his trial, due to his injury, he get's off easy because his involvement with the coup can be written off as service to the Duke and now he can once again serve the Empire to redeem himself for his past actiond, under supervision. He is put under house arrest at his Mansion and because Ronny was his caretaker at Addermire, she is tasked to look after him for a while, much to her dismay. She and Noa move to the Mansion, where there is half of the original staff and the guards this time need to make sure to keep him inside. All of his Clockwork Soldiers are destroyed and all of the weapons at the Mansion have been confiscated so he finds himself no longer having the upper hand, but as an actual prisoner in his shifting rooms. However Jindosh is willing to cooperate and not cause harm provided that he get's some of his freedom and is allowed to tinker with things.

He and Ronny, despite having known each other for a year, are at a rough start at the Mansion, but he finds it easier to warm up to little Noa, despite claiming to not like kids. And eventually he begins to find Ronny interesting because she is smart yet openly defies him and refuses to play along his games. His interest in Ronny shifts and changes over time and he begins to find that he feels a certain way that is both new and fascinating. And most importantly during this time, he finds himself becoming nicer to the staff and no longer interested in a lot of the macabre things he once found alluring.

So here we are in the current time where I draw my art and stuff, sorry this is long but thank you to everyone that read it! Also, for the record, some minor Jindosh crimes have been retconned to mske this work, but mostly he was still an evil asshole and he is now slowly learning to change and earn his redemption. And goes without saying, but actual lobotomies IRL were one of the most terrible things and caused permanent damage, but due to the nature of the electroshock machine and there being no clear way it works in a fantasy universe, we could bullshit around and say that he recovered. It's part of the re-writing.

[merakiaes]

Teardrop Tattoo - Jose “Sad Eyes” Guzman

Pairing: Jose “Sad Eyes” Guzman x reader

Requested: By @ugh-jalynn​

Prompts: None. 

Warnings/notes: This one-shot is loosely based around the song “Coffin” by Jessie Reyes. It’s a bit angsty but nothing too bad. Not proofread so I apologize in advance for any possible mistakes and as usual, translations are at the end. 

Wordcount: 3940

Summary: Relationships aren’t always a dance on roses, especially not when you’re dating a Santo. But in the end, you pull through, because you’d rather die than live without each other. 

Your mother had made sure to teach you very early in life that no relationship was a dance on roses, that when you and your significant other fought, it was important to remember that it was never you versus each other but rather the two of you versus the problem and that whenever you found yourself in an argument, it was important that you stayed on the same page and solved the problem together.

But it was easier said than done when the time came that you actually found yourself in a situation in which you needed to follow her wise words; especially when you found yourself in said situation pretty much every day.

You had known what you were getting into when you first decided to start dating a Santo; you had known that it wouldn’t be easy.

But things were getting out of hand and you didn’t know what to do anymore. 

You had been fighting non-stop over the past few weeks.

You fought until the sun rose and by the time the two of you went about your days and your jobs, neither of you had been to bed, running on little to no sleep which was not a very good combination with the already existing tension and the fact that both of your professions required that you didn’t lose focus.

Money was tight for the two of you so you had been taking on extra shifts at the hospital all while he and Spooky were being worked to the bone by Cuchillos to clean up the mess Cesar had left behind with the Prophets.

You were both stressed, sleep-deprived, easily vexed, barely got to see each other and in all your angry glory, you blamed it on each other even though deep down, both of you knew it was only a matter of bad timing.  

But lately, it had started feeling like he was purposely avoiding you. You had been trying to spend time with him and he just came up with excuses as to why he couldn’t, every time.

He would tell you he was being sent out on a run or that he needed to take care of something for the Santos, and then when you would go out with your friends to distract yourself from the stress, you would find him drinking and laughing the night away at the same parties.

It wasn’t a big deal that it happened one time, but you were ashamed to say that it had happened more than once, and even more ashamed to admit that all of the fighting was making you doubt his loyalty to you.

At this point, you were living in a constant, never-ending, dark circle. 

You would fight and then one of you would take the step to apologize and reach your hand out to the one who was still drowning in anger. 

But when doing so, every time, the other wouldn’t be ready to let the argument go and pull the other down with them right back under the surface again.

And so it kept going, over and over again, almost like clockwork. 

You had reached the point where you didn’t know what to do to save your relationship anymore, or whether or not it was even possible in the first place. 

You were like water mixed with oil, a disaster just waiting to happen and a lethal mix always on the verge of exploding.

You were so angry at each other all the time that you rarely even remembered why you were mad in the first place and you found yourself at your wit’s end, constantly torn between your mother’s many life-advice.

On one hand, she had taught you not to give up on the people you loved, to be patient and work hard to keep your relationship together, even when it seemed like there was no hope.

But on the other hand, she had also taught you that people make time for those they care about. No bullshit. No excuses. No broken promises or false hopes for the future.

If someone was into you, you wouldn’t have to keep begging them for a text, call or quality time together. They’d take the initiative, themselves, if you were a priority.

She taught you that no person would ever be busier than someone who wasn’t interested in you and lately, Sad Eyes had been awfully busy and all the things he claimed to be busy with always turned out to be made-up.

All of it had made you so exhausted that you could barely bring yourself to be angry anymore. You were just… sad.

You were sad when you stared at your boyfriend of two years from your spot in the doorway, eyes following his every move as he moved around the room, getting dressed after his shower.

“What’s going on with you lately?” Your voice came out as a mere whisper, your cheek leaning against the doorframe and your eyebrows creasing together. “I barely even recognize you anymore…”

He didn’t even look up at you, putting all of his focus into turning his inside-out tank-top back out. “Yeah? You and me both.” He muttered simply, pulling the tank-top over his head and then wordlessly turning his back to you to put on his navy blue button-up over it.

Your jaw tensed and a breath left your nose in annoyance, but you kept your calm and pushed yourself off the doorframe, taking a step into the room and crossing your arms over your chest as you watched him put his golden chain back on.

“Don’t try to shut me out like that.” You told him sternly, shaking your head and glaring into the side of his face. “I’ve been here from day one. I know things have been tense between us for a long time now but this… This is something else entirely and I deserve an explanation.”

He turned around to face you, but he avoided you like you were the plague, walking right past you and out of your shared bedroom. “I need some time to think. I’ll be home later.”

You wasted no time uncrossing your arms and turning around to hurry after him, barely even able to keep up with his long, urgent strides. He was obviously in a hurry to get out of there, just like every day these past week and a half.

“Yeah, you’ve been needing a lot of time to think lately.” You scoffed at him as you jogged after him, managing to slide your body in between him and the front door right before he could grab the door handle.

For the first time since coming home the hour before, he had no other choice but to look at you, his eyes meeting yours and watching as your face pulled into a frown.

“Do you not want to be with me anymore? Is that it?” You asked quietly. “Are you tired of me? Do you not love me anymore? If that’s the case then I’d rather you just put me out of my misery now because I can’t do this anymore. I can’t-“

You cut yourself off, tearing your eyes away from his as a sudden wave of sadness overcame you. 

Above you, his cold eyes flickered with emotion at the sight as you continued. “I can’t walk around and pretend like everything’s fine when in reality, I’m mourning you even though you’re not even gone.”

A heavy silence fell over you, the only thing being heard being the clock in the kitchen and the various sounds of people going about their days outside on the block.

You kept staring into the floorboards under your feet for another good half minute before you felt a warm hand come up to touch your face, Sad Eyes’ fingers catching your chin and lifting your head up to look at him again.

He stared down at you, moving his hand from your chin to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear. Then, he leaned his head down to yours and kissed you.

It was short, but it was more affection than you had gotten for a week so it was very well-appreciated nonetheless, succeeding in making you a bit happier, even if it was just a little.

“I love you and I want to be with you, none of that has changed.” He told you when you broke back apart, caressing your cheek just for a second longer before dropping his hand back to his side and taking a step back. “I just need to do a run for Spooky and then I’ll be back.”

And just like that, the bitterness returned to your body in a wave, just as quickly as it had gone away. “Yeah, it’s always runs for Spooky.” You muttered, looking to the side.

His hand reached out to take a hold of yours, causing you to look back up at him almost instantly. “I’ll be back before the hour is up.” He told you and you gave him a doubtful look.

“Do you promise?” You asked, and he nodded, eyebrows furrowing together slightly.

“Tienes mi palabra.” He nodded.

But he never came home.

An hour passed, and then two, three and four with no sign of him, leaving you home alone to nurse yourself back to a mediocre, temporary happiness with a movie from the hurt caused by yet another broken promise.

It had been around six in the afternoon when he had left the house and by the time the front door opened again, the clock on your nightside table was closing in on midnight.

You had kept occupying yourself with movies for the first two hours but after that you had turned off the TV, unable to concentrate any longer and breaking down in your bed.

After quite literally crying your eyes out, you fell asleep for… well, you didn’t really know how long and you didn’t have the energy to do the math, and then you had just laid there staring into your phone while you absentmindedly scrolled through your social media.

When you heard the front door unlocking and opening you looked up from the phone, listening intently to get an idea of what he was doing.

The sound of a bang reached your ears shortly after the front door had slammed shut again, followed by a string of hushed, Spanish curses and you instantly prepared for what was to come, sadly enough used enough to it to have it all down as a routine by now.

You locked your phone, putting it to the side and sitting up in bed to the sound of his footsteps closing in on your bedroom, watching as he stumbled through the doorway a few seconds later.

He was still cursing quietly under his breath, his eyes obviously not used to the dark yet judging by the way he was fumbling and stumbling around. But then again, that could have just been a result of the alcohol he had obviously consumed.

The mere thought of it caused your face to pull into a glare and your arms to cross over your chest. 

“Have you been out drinking again?” You asked before you could stop yourself, and watched as he near jumped out of his skin.

He obviously hadn’t noticed that you were awake up until then and you’d caught him by surprise by breaking the silence, causing his stumbling to become even clumsier.

But rather than turning to face you, he seemed to do the exact opposite, turning away from you so quickly you instantly turned suspicious.

“I’m not drunk.” He answered back bitterly, and you hummed in disapproval.

His voice wasn’t slurring so he was obviously telling the truth, but it was groggy, indicating that he had in fact been drinking. And the smell of beer only proved it, scent so strong he might as well have spilled an entire bottle over himself.

And what did you know, maybe he had. You wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.

“You’re not sober, either. I can smell it on you all the way from here.” You pointed out, watching his every move with eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You told me you were just going on a run. You promised me you would come back home afterward. We don’t break promises.”

Your eyes squinted even further when taking note of how he was excessively avoiding turning to look at you and when he grabbed a pillow from his side of the bed, your body reacted almost as if out of instinct, moving out of the bed to stand.

“What are you doing?” You asked, rounding the bed as quickly as your legs could take you when he began walking out of the room again, pillow now clutched tightly in his hand.

“I’m sleeping on the couch.” He muttered back simply, not even sparing you a glance.

Your face pulled into a glare and you quickly rushed up in front of him, forcing him to come to a stop in order to not walk straight into you. 

“No, you’re not.” You glared, trying to get his eyes to meet yours but you couldn’t even get a look of his face with how quickly he had walked around you again.

“I need to be alone right now.” He kept arguing with you and that’s when you snapped.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch, give me the fucking pillow!” You exclaimed, getting in his way again and reaching out to grab the pillow, tearing it out of his grasp with one, sharp tug and in turn, he slipped up, whipping his head around to face you with a glare equally as fierce as yours.

"I’m fucking tired and I want to go to sleep. Is that too much to ask for now, too?!" He yelled back, but his words barely even progressed in your brain, your eyes widening as you were finally able to see his face.

It was like all of the air left your lungs in that one moment, leaving you breathless and unable to progress anything around you.

All you could see, all you could think about, was the black teardrop now inked into the tan skin underneath his eye, the edges around the small tattoo still red and showing cleared just how freshly executed it was.

You had always been scared for him, the worry coming naturally with him being a gang-member and always being on the run from the law and the Prophets. But never, not ever, had you been this scared.

He avoided your wide, fear-struck eyes like his life depended on it, looking behind you into empty space, but now that the cat was out the bag, he made no move to further hide the reason for his previous avoidance.

"I thought you were just doing runs." You managed to get out through the thickness of your throat, swallowing in an attempt to calm your rapidly growing panic.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, too, his jaw tensing and his eyes glaring over your shoulder. "It’s never just anything with Cuchillos.” He answered lowly. “Shit’s been hectic with the Prophets lately. We needed to take care of it, keep the block safe."

"Baby..." You gave him a sad look, dropping the pillow onto the couch beside you and slowly reaching your hand out to grab his.

He ripped it out of your grasp in one swift movement to a start but you didn’t give up, reaching out for it again and this time around, he did nothing to stop you.

Slowly and cautiously, you took a step forward, and then another and then a third, pressing your chest against his and reaching your arms up to wrap them around his neck and by doing so pulling his face into your shoulder.

In turn, his arms slowly wrapped around your waist and he pressed his face harder into your neck.

His beard tickled your skin uncomfortably but you forced yourself to ignore the prickly feeling, holding him close and furrowing your eyebrows in thought as you came to the realization that his angry, snappy behavior suddenly made sense.

When he made a mistake, he knew it, felt it, tore himself apart about it. He lost sleep, didn’t stop thinking about it and beat himself up about it to the point where he would be on the verge of losing his sanity completely.

You didn’t know how you hadn’t seen the signs before but now that the cards were out on the table, it was all so insanely clear.

Sad Eyes had never been like the other Santo cholos.

Had he grown up poor with worse privileges and fewer opportunities than others? Yeah, everyone in Freeridge had. But despite all that, he had lived a good life.

He had a loving mother, two sisters that he adored to bits and pieces and up until his passing when he was seventeen, he’d had a good, solid father-son relationship with his dad.

He didn’t have a traumatic childhood with absent parents like Oscar and so many other Santos had. He wasn’t in the Santos because he had a legacy or family crest to live up to, or because he was roped in against his will.

The brotherhood, the strong bond of loyalty between ride or die brothers and the sense of belonging somewhere; of, despite all the laws being broken in the process, doing something good and being able to protect those he cared about, it was all the life he, himself, had chosen.

The law had never done anything to help him or his family when the governmental system had failed them so he didn’t give two flying fucks about whether he lived on the good or the bad side of the lawbook.

But still, he was so sincere, so gentle and so loving. He didn't mind robbing a bank or dealing drugs, but you knew he'd never really liked the violence that came with it.

The beatings he was sent out to do when someone disrupted the Santos’ plans, the beatings he'd been forced to sit through every time someone new was being jumped in… He didn't like it at all but it was out of his control and he had no other choice but to follow orders.

The only thing he did have control over was his killing count. He had never taken another man's life and he found great comfort in it, even if he would never admit that kind of vulnerability out loud.

But now that was out of his control, too, and you knew that now more than ever, you needed to follow your mother’s advice and put your differences aside in order to be there for him, hold up your end of the promise and stay by his side for as long as he wanted you to, forever and always.

Because at the end of the day, no matter how much you fought, he never let you go to sleep wondering if you still mattered and you would be caught dead before you did that to him, too.

You might have been a fool for falling for a Santo in the first place but you loved him to death. You would rather lay lifeless and rot away in a coffin six feet underground than live without him, and if he was, against all odds, the first one to go, the coffin better have been made for two, because if he jumped, you jumped.

You had been in this shit together since the start, and no matter how severe of a crime committed on his part, that would never change.

But he was obviously expecting you to end it right then and there judging by the way he was standing, breathing, squeezing his hands shut at his sides and glaring into something further away in the room when you broke apart from the embrace, which only broke you heart even further.

You slowly raised a hand up to his jaw, watching as his eyes fell shut at the feeling of your touch, and supported the weight of his head when he leaned his forehead against yours.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You whispered, and he let out a deep breath through his nose, his hands squeezing down at your sides.

“I didn’t want to scare you away.” He muttered back, his voice coming out low. “You’re the best thing I’ve got going in my life, even with all of the shit that’s been going on. I couldn’t lose you.”

Your heart tugged in your chest at his words and you swallowed, looking down. “When… when did you-“

“Last week.” He replied without missing a beat and you nodded.

“And that’s why you’ve been-“

“Yeah.”

Your eyes flickered back up to his to find that he was now looking at you with eyes full of regret. 

“I’m sorry.” He looked at you somberly and you instantly started shaking your head, raising your other hand to his other cheek.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Good people sometimes make bad decisions, whether it be by their own choice or by having it pushed upon them.” You assured him, turning your head down to hold his gaze when he attempted to break it. “They mess up and they let others down, but that doesn’t make them bad people. We all make mistakes, we all have flaws, it’s what makes us human, so don’t let one mistake ruin a beautiful thing. You know I’d stay by your side no matter what, so don’t push me away. Please.”

He stared intently at you as you spoke, the expression on his face unreadable. But he said nothing, so you continued, caressing his face soothingly .

“I can’t promise you a perfect relationship without arguments and differences but I can promise you as long as you’re trying, I’m staying. No matter what happens, no matter how deep you get caught up with the Santos. The only thing that could make me leave you is if I’m dead and even then, I know I’d find you, somehow, somewhere.”

You paused briefly, taking note of the way he tensed up when your touch neared the teardrop under his eye.

But he quickly relaxed again when you brought your hand down from his face to instead grab his hand, your lips tugging up in a small smile. “You’re my ride or die, remember?”

A moment of silence fell over you, the two of you just staring into each other’s eyes. And then he nodded, squeezing your hand back and leaning in to press his lips to your forehead. “And you’re mine.”

You nodded, mustering a small smile of comfort. And then you leaned your cheek against his chest, hugging him close and letting him do the same to you.

Your mother’s advice and words of wisdom had taken you so far in life but something she hadn’t mentioned was that sometimes, two people had to fall apart to realize how much they need to fall back together.

You’d had to learn that lesson all on your own and now that you had, it was going to be so much easier for you to handle everything that was going on, knowing that you would be able to get through any obstacle as long as you were together.

Come tomorrow morning, you would start fresh, and even if that turned out not to be possible with everything now obviously being about to change, you wouldn’t even consider leaving him.

You would rather live a miserable life full of crime with him than a miserable, safe life without him, because at the end of the day, he was your ride or die and you were his, as you had been ever since you first met.

Nothing was going to change that, especially not a stupid teardrop tattoo.

Translations (I’m not a native Spanish speaker so this might not be a hundred percent accurate):

Tienes mi palabra – You have my word

Tagged: @babienay @firebenderwolf @chaneajoyyy @moanlightbaby @dolanackles @marvelously-flawed @ugh-jalynn @jazzwhitlockhale @joyrivh @socialistavocado @turn-diamonds-into-snow @shadow-of-wonder @bxmaaa @clemmingstylins0n @trublmr @fairygardenss @spookysnena @shxllxfx​

[dontcare77ghj]

Healthy Patterns

Tony x reader x Bucky

Notes: Bucky was frozen at the same time as Steve. Bucky did not kill Tony’s parents but still has a metal arm

The team thought it was funny that the three of you were together. The three of you were such incredibly different people it was weird to watch you all interact with each other. Tony was a sarcastic asshole most of the time, Bucky was incredibly headstrong and resilient, and you were one of sweetest people some of the team had met. 

Somehow though, despite your opposite personalities, the three of you fit together. Though Tony was an asshole he was thoughtful and sweet with the two of you, Bucky was headstrong when it came to the two of you he would do anything to make you two happy and just because you were sweet did not mean you didn’t fight the hardest on missions or in battle because you would do anything to keep the two men safe. 

What the team didn’t see was how similar the three of you were. Especially in your unhealthy patterns.

“It’s two in the morning, Tony. Please just come to bed.” You begged, standing in the doorway of his lab. “Christ sakes, Buck’s in bed tonight.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I’ve just got to finish this tonight.” He sighed, barely looking up from his tablet. “I promise I’ll be in bed tomorrow night.”

“Tony, you are running yourself into the ground. At the rate you’re going I’m scared you’re going to make yourself ill.” You told him, stepping closer to the man.

“Oh, sweetheart, you worry too much. I’m going to be fine.” He assured, putting the tablet down and gesturing for you to come to him. Once you were close enough, he wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you onto his lap.

“Tony, one day you’re not going to be okay.” You murmured. “One day you’re just not.”

“Sweetheart, trust me, for as long as I’m needed, I’m going to be alright.” He promised, raising your chin with two fingers and pressed his lips to yours.

“Come to bed, please.” You whispered as you pulled away. “We miss you.”

“Okay.” He agreed. “Okay, I’ll come up.” He said.

“Great.” You chirped, hoping off his lap and walking towards the door. “You coming, tiger?” You questioned, a small smirk crossing your face.

“You’re devious.” Tony groaned as he stood and followed you into the elevator. “I don’t know why people think you’re the sweet one, you’re evil.”

“They think I’m sweet because I am.” You smiled. “I am as sweet as sugar is fucking delicious.”

“That you are.” He chuckled as the elevator arrived at the floor you shared with Bucky.

“I didn’t think you’d actually get him to come up here.” Bucky commented as you both entered the bedroom. “Did she give you the face?”

“No, she guilt tripped me.” Tony grumbled, moving over the small fridge he kept in the corner of the room. “I’m telling you; we’re involved with an evil one.”

“What are you doing?” Bucky asked Tony as you climbed in with him. Turning to look at the man, you saw him pulling out an almost empty bottle of whiskey.

“Just having a sip.” Tony said before finishing off the bottle. 

“Five bucks.” Bucky said, turning to you with a hand out. “I told you so.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know you did.” You grumbled. “I’ll give it to you in the morning. I’m too tired to grab my purse at the moment.” You said, laying down.

“Wait what? Why does Y/N owe you money?” Tony questioned, pulling off his shirt.

“Because we had a bet and I won. I told her even if you did come up, you would have a drink.” Bucky said, wrapping his arm around you.

“I don’t always have a drink.”

“Yes you do!” You snapped, sitting up. “It’s every night and every time we bring it up you dismiss it. Is sleeping next to us so bad you need to be buzzed to do it?” You questioned.

“No, no, sweetheart, that’s not it at all.” Tony said, sitting next to you on the bed. “I swear that’s not it all.”

“Then what is it, tone?” Bucky asked him. Tony didn’t say anything as he merely stared at the two of you.

“Forget it. Let’s just go to bed.” You sighed, shrugging Tony’s hand off and turning over.

“I do it to stop the nightmares.” Tony admitted after a minute of silence. “Since the whole Loki thing I can’t sleep.” He continued, seeing the two of you turn to him and listen. “I can’t sleep without having to watch the two of you die over and over again. The alcohol numbs it enough I don’t have to remember it in the morning.”

“Tony why didn’t you just tell us?” Bucky questioned him. “We would’ve understood.”

“I’m a Stark, I’ve been bottling things in since I was born.” He snarked before letting out a sigh. “I also just didn’t want either of you to know. I didn’t want you to think I’m weak.”

“Oh, honey, come here.” You cooed, pulling Tony into your arms. “Go to sleep, honey. We'll talk this over in the morning some more, okay?” You said, running your fingers through Tony’s short hair. 

Tony didn’t get to reply as the combination of alcohol and your soothing fingers lulled him off to sleep. 

“We'll talk to him tomorrow.” Bucky agreed, pulling the two of you closer and drifted off to sleep. With a nod you closed your eyes and rested your head on Buck’s chest.

Tomorrow. You would talk tomorrow.

Non-reader POV

Tony didn’t quit drinking, but he did stop drinking before going to sleep. It was because of Bucky and Y/N that he began to see a psychiatrist. Tony could sleep at night once again thanks to their help but tonight he just seemed unable to.

Tony sat up as slowly as possible, expecting to see both his partners asleep next to him but only saw one. Tony let out a sigh as he realized which of his partners wasn’t in bed. As carefully as he could he slid out of bed and wrapped the blankets around a still sleeping Y/N.

“And what are you doing out here?” Tony asked, walking into the living room. Buck’s head shot up from the book he was reading and had the decency to look guilty.

“Hi, babe, you look nice.” Bucky said, cheeks red.

“Don’t sweet talk me, mister.” Tony scolded. “It’s three in the morning, you’re supposed to be in bed with me and Y/N.”

“I know. I just, really wanted to read this book.” Bucky told Tony as said man moved closer to him.

“Bullshit.” Tony scoffed. “Steve gave you that book a month ago, if you’d wanted to read it you would’ve done it a while ago. I’m not an idiot Buck.”

“I know.” Bucky sighed, resting his head in his hands.

“Is this about what happened the other night?” Tony asked, sitting next to the brunette.

“No.” He responded quickly.

“It is.” Tony said. “You know she doesn’t blame you for that, right?”

“She should.” Bucky said firmly. “She should hate me. How can she bare to look at me? I’m a monster.”

“You are not a monster.” Tony denied him. “You are not a monster. You are our Bucky and our Bucky is no monster.”

“I hurt her.” Bucky said, still not looking at the man next to him. “I physically hurt her and that’s on me. All me.”

“No it’s not.” Y/N said. Tony looked up and saw their girlfriend, standing in the doorway. She had little on apart from Bucky’s shirt, which was big enough it was sliding off her shoulder showing the fresh bruise on her neck. “It was an accident Buck, you are not a monster.”

“I hurt you, doll. I had a nightmare and I attacked you. There’s no excuse for that.”

“You did not attack me. You got spooked and you weren’t fully awake. It was a mistake, Buck, you didn’t mean it.” Y/N said, kneeling down in front of the man.

“Accidents happen. We all do things we don’t mean but you can’t keep sleeping out here because you’re scared to hurt one of us.” Tony added. 

“What if next time, it’s not a bruise?” Bucky asked, finally looking up. “What if next time I seriously injure one of you? Or worse.”

“You won’t.” Tony told him firmly. “Because we love you and you love us. You’re not going to hurt us.”

“Now come back to bed. It’s cold without you neither of us can sleep without you there.” Y/N said, making Bucky crack a small smile for the first time that night.

“Are you trying to guilt me into healthy sleep habits?”

“I don’t know, is it working?” Y/N teased, rising to a stand. She held both hands out to the still sitting men and pulled them to a stand.

“I love you two. Thank you for everything.” Bucky murmured to the two long after they fell asleep on his broad chest.

And Bucky didn’t leave the bed again that night.

Reader POV

Every night for the past week, like clockwork, you would wake up three hours after falling asleep. And every night you would sneak out onto the balcony and pull out your hidden pack of cigarettes. You wouldn’t call yourself a smoker per say, but after a sleep like that, a smoke was the only thing that calmed you down.

“That’s going to kill you.” A voice said as you lit the stick. You shook your head and leaned against the railing as you inhaled a long puff.

“Well something is going to. It’s either this or a bullet.” You commented, not looking back at the person. “What are you doing up here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Bucky said, moving to stand beside you. “I decided to come up here when I noticed my girlfriend sneaking out of bed every night and coming back smelling like a nicotine factory.”

“Funny but just so you know, I only have one.” You said, inhaling another drag.

“This is going to kill you doll.” Bucky said, taking it out of your hand and having his own drag. “Plus, it’s certainly not going to help you sleep.”

“Okay first off; that was hypocritical.” You told him, watching as he put the smoke out. “And secondly I don’t want to sleep.”

“Doll you were asleep for three hours before you came out here. There’s no way you’re going to function well tomorrow.” Bucky sighed.

“I’ve gotten by on less.” You shrugged.

“How come you’ve never mentioned you’re a smoker, baby doll?” The man asked you as you stared at the world below.

“Because it’s not that big a deal. I don’t do it all the time, sometimes I just need one after a bad night. It’s only ever one, it’s not that big a deal.” You said without looking at him.

“What do you mean, bad nights?”

“Ever since I was a kid, I’ve had issues with sleep paralysis. It’s the one thing that scares the shit out of me because it feels like this it and I’m going to die. Sometimes I just can’t cope.” You said, turning towards him. “It doesn’t happen as often as it did when I was a kid but this week, it just won’t stop. And I can’t make it stop. I just want it to stop.”

“Darling why didn’t you tell us about any of this?” Bucky asked you.

“I hate talking about it. I hate having to resort to nicotine after an episode. I just hate it all.”

“You should have talked to us about this, sweetheart. We would’ve understood.” Tony said, making his presence on the balcony known.

“I know. I know, I just never got around to it.” You said as Tony walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“Well now we know. And we're going to help you, if you want our help that.” Bucky said, enveloping the two of you in his warmth.

“Please.” You begged.

“Well first you’re going to give me the rest of your smokes.” Bucky told you, putting his hand out in front of you. After a second you placed the remainder of your carton in his hands. "I'm throwing them out brcause you dont need them, baby doll. They're not good for you." 

“And now we’re going to head inside. You don’t have to sleep if you don’t want to, but it’s cold out here.” Tony said, manoeuvring the three of you so you could all shuffle inside. Tony guided the two of you back to bed, where the two men climbed in leaving a space in between them for you.

You bit down on your lip as you stared at the open space between them.

“Come on, sweetheart. We’ll keep you safe.” Tony said, pulling the blanket back for you. You let out a breath before nodding and crawling in between the two.

“We’re here, doll, no more smoking. If you go back to sleep and have more paralysis, wake us up.” Bucky said, pulling you and Tony close to him. You nodded at his words and relaxed into the two's hold

It took you two hours to finally fall asleep and you did wake an hour later but this time you didn't resort to nicotine instead gently waking Bucky and Tony who stayed awake with you until the sun rose.

You felt bad for waking the two, but talking with the two felt better than a nicotine high.

The three of you had bad habits. They were things you were working on and occasionally relapsed upon but you were working together. You were working together to gain healthy habits. To gain healthy patterns

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