#he was probably thinking this guys a fucking moron I want to kiss him so badly

[cosmicisbored]

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

hi i could request mafia!carlos where he is like mean to everyone but you and is super protective and possessive with reader please!?

Mine - Carlos Sainz

<word count - 7833>

It was nearing on dinner time, and Carlos still wasn't finished with the meeting he had gone into hours ago. Business had been booming lately, and he always had people wanting to make deals with him.

The maids were scrambling, since they normally asked you or Carlos what you wanted for dinner. You didn't know, so then the responsibility usually landed on Carlos. It was such a small decision to make that would have zero consequences, but your mind had gone blank.

You knew you usually shouldn't interrupt Carlos' meetings, but it was surely nearing the end, and there probably weren't many more important things to talk about. You approached the door and heard some frustrated conversations on the inside. "I am not having this move screwed up by you fucking morons," you heard Carlos spit. 

Knocking hesitantly, you opened the door and poked your head around it. "Not right now," Carlos huffed, and he was looking rather dishevelled. His suit jacket was sitting askew on his body, his top button had been undone and his hair was ruffled due to how many times he had run his hands through it. 

Carlos looked up as the door opened, and his face completely softened. "Hey, baby, you OK?" he asked, opening his arm out to you to slot yourself into. "Can I ask you something really quick? It's OK if not, it's not important," you said as you felt the eyes of all the men in the room on you. 

"Yeah, of course, c'mere," he said, glad to see you after hours of dealing with these useless wastes of oxygen. "Turn away," he commanded the people around you, not wanting them to see you or watch your body as you approached him. 

He didn't want their dirty, sinful gazes on you, since he wouldn't be able to control what they were thinking like he could their actions. The thought of it made him sick, and he didn't want you to be exposed to the world he lived in. 

You were his serenity in the madness, and he couldn't have that tainted by people with purely bad intentions. He could keep you safe, and that was exactly what he would do until he took his dying breath. 

As the men turned their chairs away, all that could be heard was the click of your heels on the cold marble floors as they echoed in the high ceilings. "What do you want for dinner?" You asked as he rested an arm around your waist. 

"How does steak sound?" He said after thinking for a moment. 

"Yeah, good. Sorry for interrupting," you apologised, sweetly smiling at him. He looked tired, but only you would be able to tell. He would keep a stone cold, stoic face on while he was around other people, but would become the clingiest man you had ever met when it was just the two of you. 

"Don't be sorry, I'm very glad to see you," he smiled, tugging you in for a kiss on the cheek. "And we should be done within half an hour, given that these guys stop being such fuckwits," he raised his voice slightly so that the men could hear.

"I'll see you in a bit," you smiled, turning and walking back out of the meeting. Once you were out of the room, Carlos allowed the men to turn around and look at him again. They seemed to get the hint and they stopped fucking around with him, since the realised it wouldn't get them anywhere. 

If Carlos wanted something, he would get it. If he wanted something done, it would be done his way or no way. He had that power, and he was sure as hell going to use it. 

As he had said, his meeting was wrapped up within half an hour, and he had his security on the doors to make sure they all left and wouldn't try anything. You were stood on the stairs as you watched them go, and one of them sent you a flirtatious wink. 

If Carlos had done something like that, it would have sent shivers up your spine and butterflies in your stomach. But he had made you feel a shiver of disgust, an uncomfortable tingle that made you feel uneasy. 

You saw as he leant into the guy walking beside him, whispering something to him with a filthy grin plastered on his face. Carlos' ears pricked up when he heard the mention of the men seeing a beautiful woman in the house. 

"I wonder how much he pays her to saunter that cute ass of hers up to him like that, because I'd fucking give it to her," he joked, but the man he was walking with stayed silent. He saw as Carlos' face turned into pure, unbridled rage. 

Without warning, Carlos rushed up to the guy, pinning him against the wall by his collar. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" he spat in his face, and the guy just stayed silent, practically shaking with fear. "I asked you a fucking question, who the fuck do you think you are talking about my wife like that?" 

Carlos let the guy sweat for a bit, and he opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. He was frozen in fear and instantly regretted what he had said and he wanted so desperately to take it back. "You say anything about her again, or you so much as think about her again, I will know and I will make sure she's the last goddamn thing you get the pleasure of fucking thinking about, got it?" he said, pressing the guy against the wall even harder.

Security didn't bother intervening, knowing full well that Carlos could handle himself. They knew when to step in, but they were enjoying the show.  "Answer me when I fucking speak to you. Do you understand?" he spat in his face again. 

"Y-Yes," he stuttered, not able to meet Carlos' eyes. 

"Show some fucking respect, yes what?" Carlos said through gritted teeth, gripping onto the guy's collar as his knuckles turned white. "Yes, sir," the guy gulped, praying that Carlos would just let him go. Carlos released the man from against the wall, but not before he swung and punched him square in the face.

The sickening crunch of his nose echoed around you, and you took a sharp intake of breath at the sight of the blood running down his face and dripping onto the floor. "Get the fuck out of my house," Carlos commanded as the guy scurried out of the door along with the rest of them. 

Carlos inspected his hand, his knuckles split and purple bruises were already blooming over the skin, but he still hadn't realised that you were there. He liked to keep you away from that side of his life, but you seeing snippets was inevitable.

You moved slightly, but the halls were very echoey, so he heard you, his head snapping up to where you were stood. "Hey, princess, we're all done," he said, trying to hide his hand behind his back. But, he could tell by the look on your face that you had seen something. 

"How much did you see?" he sheepishly asked, trying to stop his hand from shaking. He couldn't feel the pain now because of all the adrenaline running through his veins, but he felt this weird numbness. "All of it," you said, descending the stairs towards him.

"Well it's been taken care of now. Sorry, you shouldn't have had to see that," he apologised, his head hung low. He didn't like the look of worry on your face, your features flushed with concern. He never wanted you to stress or worry about him. "It's OK, I don't mind," you dismissed as you stood in front of him, "You go sit down, I'll get some stuff to wrap up your hand," 

"No, no, I'll do it, don't worry," he shook his head, pulling his hand away from you as you tried to inspect the damage. He could take care of himself, and he wanted to deal with the slightly painful consequences of his violent, yet just, actions. "Carlos, please," you softly sighed, not wanting him to pull away from you. 

On the day you got married, you vowed to take care of him in sickness and in health. Yes, that wasn't geared towards when your husband had broken someone's nose and his knuckles were split, but it still applied - especially in the world you were living in. 

Carlos was now at the disadvantage, since he could never say no to you. You could ask him for the world, and he would burn anyone in it to give it to you. You could ask him for the stars, and he'd go to space himself to retrieve every last one for you.

"Fine," he sighed, letting you lead him over to the dining room table. You could smell dinner being made in the kitchen next door, but you still had some time to patch Carlos up before then. "I'll be back," you told him, walking out of the room and leaving him to think for a minute. 

Just thinking about the way that guy had spoken about you was making his blood boil all over again as he clenched his fists, not caring about the sting that stretching the open wounds caused. 

He hated the fact that he knew other people had definitely spoken about you in worse ways, and thought about you. They would have this sick, twisted, perverted version of you in their dirty little minds, where they only used you and threw you away like a ragdoll. Where they only used you for your perfect body and pretty face before discarding you. 

If he had a dollar for everytime he knew someone was thinking about you, he'd be a rich man. Well, he was already rich, but he'd be filthy rich if that was the case. The worst part was: there was nothing he could do. He was only able to give that man what he deserved because he had heard him say it, but not everyone was dumb enough to say it within earshot of him. 

"Hey, you OK?" you asked, placing a hand on his shoulder as you snapped him out of his thoughts. You had noticed that he was clenching his fists so hard that his nails were digging into the flesh of his palms and leaving red crescents behind. 

"You know, you didn't have to punch him," you said, pushing another chair right next to him and taking his hand. "I am not letting grimy bastards like him get away with saying things like that about you, not at all," he told you. 

You produced a disinfectant wipe from its packet, gently wiping it over his skin, cleaning the blood away from the area. Carlos quietly hissed as it stung, but he had been through a hell of a lot worse, so it was nothing he couldn't deal with. 

"I thought you'd seen him wink at me but I guess not..." You quietly said, rooting through the first aid kit to find bandages. "Sorry, he winked at you? Fucking pussy ass bitch got off easy then. I'll kill him, I swear to god," he seethed, and you struggled to keep his hand still while you wrapped it up. "Baby, don't worry about it, he's gone," you said. 

He was grappling with himself internally, wondering how you could remain so calm after what he had done and said. If he had it his way, Carlos would have hunted him down, punished him for a short while, then sent his body home in multiple parts over the span of a few weeks. "Sure, whatever you say," he reluctantly agreed, resting his hand to make it easier for you. 

You wrapped the soft white cotton around his still slightly bleeding knuckles, before pinning it into place so it wouldn't come off. "Thank you, princess," he smiled, placing a hand on your thigh. "No problem," you told him, resting a head onto his shoulder while you waited for dinner. 

"Have you still got that party on tonight?" You asked, tilting your head to look at him from the side. Shit he thought, having completely forgotten. It was a club that one of his associates owned, and he needed to go just to keep up appearances. Charles and Lando would be there too, so it wouldn't be all that bad. 

"Yeah, yeah I do. I won't stay out too late, don't worry," he told you, kissing you softly on the top of your head. "Can I come with you?" you sweetly asked, knowing he wouldn't want you to go. But, you had the perfect plan to make him say yes. 

"No, baby, no. You know what the people there are like," he dismissed, not wanting you around those people. Sure, Charles and Lando would be there, but they were the only other decent people that would be in your vicinity. "Please? I wanna go and have some fun," you pleaded, batting your eyelashes at him. 

Carlos sighed, not wanting to regret the decision he was about to make. "Fine, you can come, but you have to stay by my side at all times, OK?" he said, already feeling nervous about taking you. But, saying no to you was the hardest thing he would ever do in his life, and he had never done it once. 

"OK, yeah, of course," you happily giggled, glad to go out. Sure, you got to go out and do the day to day stuff, but never without security or Carlos hanging around you constantly. You understood why, since Carlos was in dangerous business with some minacious people, but it would still be nice to let loose for a night.

As soon as you had finished dinner, you ran up the stairs to get ready. Carlos smiled to himself, loving how you liked to get all dolled up whenever you went out. It also meant he would have his work cut out for him, keeping men away from you, but it was worth it if you got to feel like a million dollars. 

Carlos came up to get changed not long later, spotting you pinning your hair into place at your vanity table. "Michael is ready with the car whenever you're ready to go," he told you, speaking about your driver that had been with Carlos since before you had. 

"OK," you confirmed, finishing off your hair and applying a lick of lipstick across your lips. You walked into your wardrobe, scanning the hangers for a dress to wear. Despite the amount that you had, none of them really stood out to you. 

"I like the red one, if that helps," Carlos called out to you, walking in as he tucked his shirt into his slacks. It was like he knew what you were thinking, and he always knew the solution to combat the problem. "Which one?"

"The one you wore for my birthday last year," he smirked, and your cheeks instantly heated up at the thought of what you got up to. You had never enjoyed a club bathroom more, and I'll leave the rest to your imagination.

"Sure, I like your thinking," you nodded, taking it off the hanger and slipping your silk robe off your shoulders. Carlos just watched as you slipped the red fabric over your body. It hugged your curves and made you look like a model. 

You tried to twist your arms around to the back of the dress to zip it up, but Carlos was there in a flash to do the job for you. He braced on hand on your waist as he pulled the zip up towards your neck. When he was done, he placed soft kisses down your neck and across your bare shoulders.

"Hey, hey. Lay off it," you giggled, trying to struggle out of his grasp. 

"But I don't want to," he whined, sucking on your neck and leaving red marks on the skin. 

"Carlos!" you scolded, spinning away from him and looking at yourself in the mirror. The splotches were already turning a deep burgundy, and you ran your fingers over them. "Carlos," you sighed, pouting at him. 

"How else are people going to know you're mine? It's for your own good, I promise," he smirked, swinging his jacket over his shoulders. Carlos walked over to the shoe rack, picking out the shiny black Louboutins that he adored on you.

He placed them in front of you and you stepped into them. They made your legs look longer, and the extra few inches looked good on you. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, Carlos held his arm out to you, and you took it. 

"You look stunning, baby," he complimented, raking his eyes over your figure as you walked. "Thank you, you're looking rather handsome tonight," you returned.

"Thank you,"  he smiled, helping you into the car. Michael drove the pair of you to the club, and there was already a queue down the length of the street to the doors. The security guard let you and Carlos straight through with a nod of his head, pointing you in the direction of the VIP section that was cordoned off with a red rope. 

Carlos threaded an arm around your waist as you weaved through the crowd in an attempt to keep you as close to him as possible. "You stay with me at all times, no matter what. If for whatever reason you can't find me, you stay with Charles or Lando, got it?" he reiterated, leaning down to talk in your ear so you could hear him over the loudness of the club. 

"Yeah, I got it," you nodded, willing to do what he asked since he had reluctantly agreed to bring you with him in the first place. He saw people's eyes rake over your figure for longer than his liking, and he hated how sleazy the guys that came to these places were.

There was not a single good thing about them - they were truly the scum of the Earth that he wished he could squash beneath his feet. They were the reason he hated bringing you anywhere with him, and he didn't want them anywhere near you. 

Carlos was on edge, to say the least, as he gripped onto your waist and tugged you impossibly closer to him. Charles and Lando were easy to spot as they sat together, downing some sort of shot. "Hey, guys," Carlos alerted them of your presence and they stood up to hug you. 

"Hey Carlos, Y/N, you guys want a drink?" Lando shouted over the music, pointing to where the bar was. "Yeah, I'll come with, Y/N wait here with Charles," Carlos instructed, walking over with Lando. He couldn't stop himself from glancing over at you every five seconds as he waited for your drinks, and he hated being away from you. 

Yes, it was only for barely even five minutes, you were in safe hands with Charles and you were in very clear view, but he still felt like he was too far away from you. Lando moved to the other side of Carlos, nodding over to two guys standing next to them at the bar. 

"Listen," he said, and Carlos trained his ears on their conversation. 

"You see the chick in the red dress?" one of them said, pointing in the direction of where you were sat. "Yeah, the one with Leclerc?" the other asked. 

"Yeah, she is a knock-out. I'll bet you fifty that I can get with her tonight," he smirked, hitting his friend in the shoulder. "Isn't she with Leclerc? He won't let you anywhere near her," 

"No, he flies solo. She's probably just some trouncing bimbo after his money, she'll be an easy catch," he said, holding his hand out for him to shake in agreement. 

"I'll take the one on the left, you get the one on the right," Lando said in his ear, eyes glued to the men who were starting to get suspicious. Carlos didn't want to cause a scene, so he had already, unfortunately, ruled out any form of violence. "No, no, I've got it covered," Carlos said, and Lando knew he'd be fine. 

As Carlos approached, the men instantly knew who he was. "The chick in the red dress is pretty cute, you should go for it," he started, giving them a bit of confidence as small, sly smiles formed on their lips. "If you want to die, that is."

For a moment, they looked at him, confusion written all over their features. They really were thick and couldn't connect the dots that had all been laid out perfectly for them. "If you want to keep living your miserable, pitiful, useless little lives, I'd suggest you don't talk about or look at my wife ever again," he told them, suddenly turning serious.

Their faces completely dropped in horror as they backed away. Carlos was using every ounce of self-control that he possessed to not hit them. "S-sorry," one stuttered. Carlos loved to watch them squirm, loved to see the pure fear he could feel radiating from them.

"You should be, now fuck off," Carlos spat, wanting them out of his sight. He turned back to Lando and picked up your drinks, making a beeline straight for where you were with Charles. He sat beside you, so close that your thighs were touching as he wrapped a comfortable arm around your waist. 

Holding onto you made him feel a bit more easy, knowing he could keep you safe if you were closer to him. As the boys settled into casual conversation, you had already finished your drink and were wanting another one. 

As you usually would, you stood from your seat and started to walk towards the bar. "Hey, where are you going?" Carlos asked, grabbing your wrist. 

"I'm going to get a drink, does anyone want one?" you asked, not seeing the meaning behind his question. "Not by yourself you're not, princess," he sighed, going to stand up with you.

"Don't worry about it, you guys got the last round, these are on me," Charles chirped, leaving the table. Carlos pulled you back down beside him as Lando carried on talking. "Remember, you don't go anywhere without me," he muttered in your ear.

No matter what, Carlos always had an arm around your waist or your shoulders, or a hand firmly on your thigh. People needed to see that you were his, and if they couldn't tell by the closeness of how you were sat with him, or the now purple marks down your neck and shoulders, then they'd be able to tell by the grasp he always had on you. 

"I'm going to the bathroom," you told Carlos, taking his hand and standing from your seat again. "OK, I'll come with," he said, glad that you had told him where you were going. You were doing as he'd asked, and that made him happy. 

"You wait here, I'll be out in a second," you said, trying to leave him by the door of the women's bathroom. Once he was sure you were in, he walked in and stood by the sinks. For all he knew, there could have already been some dickhead in there, waiting for some unassuming victim to walk into their lair. 

One of the doors in front of him opened, and it was like the past was walking right out of there and smacking him square in the face. "Carlos! If you wanted to see me, you certainly didn't have to follow me in here," she winked, the pitch of her voice sending uncomfortable shivers down his spine. 

"Marissa," he acknowledged, mentally willing you to hurry up so that he wouldn't have to deal with her for long. "Bit dodgy waiting in the ladies' room, don't you think?" she asked, sauntering up to him and running her hands across his chest. "Someone's been working out-"

"Get off me," he snapped, batting her hands away. Her touch felt agonizing, her fingertips like ice that he could feel through his shirt.  "Aw Carlos, don't be so rude to your old friend, it's not like you're with anyone either," she cooed, her voice turning sultry in a way that was supposed to be seductive. 

Rewind seven or so years, and Carlos would have fallen for her false charms and taken her home, maybe spent some of his hard earned money on her. But now, he had new eyes and saw right through her facade. He was glad to be out of that period of his life, because he was forced to become a better man, and that meant he could have you, and he wouldn't trade it for the world. 

"I'm married, I'm waiting for my wife at the moment," he deadpanned, stepping away from her and folding his arms as a way to block her off from him. "Carlos Sainz? Married? Oh that's a funny one," she giggled, twirling her dark hair around her finger. 

"I'm glad you found it funny, because I'm serious," he said, not even giving her the decency of eye contact as he spoke. "My Carlos would never commit to a relationship, let alone marry someone," she said like she knew him. She might have at one point, but she certainly didn't anymore. 

"I'm not your Carlos, and I never will be again. Now go and enjoy your evening," Carlos told her, trying to get rid of her. "How about you come to my table? We've got drinks, you can bring Norris and Leclerc, I'm sure they'd love to get in on the fun," she said, batting her eyelashes at him. 

"Marissa just piss off will you?" Carlos spat. As if by the grace of god, the other bathroom stall opened and you walked up. "Baby? Who's this?" You asked as if you hadn't heard their entire interaction.  "Hey princess, this is Marissa, old friend of mine," Carlos explained, immediately welcoming you into his embrace. 

"We were a lot more than friends," she smirked, clearly trying to make you mad. But, you knew that Carlos had a past, not a great one, but it was still a past he had been open and honest about. "I'm Y/N, it's a pleasure to meet you," you sweetly smiled, ignoring her comment.

You held your left hand for her to shake, your engagement ring shining bright and proud under the harsh lights of the bathroom. To be blunt, the rock that sat on your finger was massive, and unmissable. Marissa clearly caught it in her eyeline and visibly grimaced, before plastering a fake smile on her plastic lips. 

"Likewise," she practically hissed at you, before turning back to Carlos. "Well, it's been nice chatting, but I'm going to have to go. Call me, Carlos. I've missed you," she flirted as one last attempt to make you mad, but you just found it pitiful. 

When you knew she was gone, you turned to Carlos. "Call me, Carlos, I've missed you," you giggled, mocking Marissa's voice. He chuckled along, glad to have you back in his arms. "Come on, let's get back out there," Carlos said, pulling you along with him.

As you approached Lando and Charles again, you heard them cackling. "You will never guess who just came over here," Charles laughed, playfully whacking Lando on the shoulder. 

"Looks like a walking corpse, awful voice, and an absolute slut for you, Carlos!" Lando giggled like a schoolboy. "Marissa?" Carlos said, cocking an eyebrow as if he were genuinely unknowing as to who they were talking about. "Aren't you clever, how'd you guess?" Lando sarcastically chuckled as the two of you sat down.

"Because she just tried to fuck me in the bathroom while I was waiting for Y/N," Carlos told them as he watched their faces turned shocked, yet extremely amused. "Shit no way!" Charles exclaimed.

"Yes way, I could hear her touching him and she said 'Someone's been working out' and I wanted to kill the bitch," you explained, Charles and Lando loudly laughing. Carlos was flabbergasted. He had never heard you say you wanted to kill anyone, or inflict any type of violence towards someone.

You were always so soft and compassionate, but he found this side to you amusing. "She might as well have gotten down on her knees and begged for it. 'Please fuck me Carlos, I'm a desperate whore for it!'" You mimed, causing Charles and Lando to double over due to how hard they were laughing.

Carlos, on the other hand, wanted you to say it again, but without mimicking Marissa. You had never begged for it, because you never had to. He gave you whatever you wanted at the drop of the hat, and most of the time, you never really asked for it. He just gave it to you. He gave anything to you.

You were loving the bitching session you were having with Charles and Lando, Carlos occasionally chipping in with a few words. Taking Carlos' hand, you inspected the red scabs on his knuckles. He was able to take the bandage off before you came out, since they had healed over pretty quickly. 

"Who did you beat this time?" Lando asked with an air of levity, since he knew what Carlos was like. He had a short temper most of the time, especially when it came to anything to do with you. "Just some fuck who needs to wash his mouth out with bleach," Carlos tutted, looking at the red crusts scattered around the skin. 

"I'm surprised the guy is still alive," Charles chuckled, and you never really got used to how braizen they were about ending people's lives. "So am I," Carlos agreed. You all carried on talking, and Carlos could feel eyes on him on occasion.

He looked over, past the red rope to see Marissa with her friends, all smiling and waving. He just rolled his eyes, but he saw there was a group of men with them that they had lured in. He supposed it was supposed to make him jealous, but it just made him feel sorry for them.

The guy's eyes kept on wandering onto you, and he was really wondering if this was going to be the third guy he'd have to have a word with for looking at you. It would be a new record. He stared daggers at the guy, but his eyes weren't averting from you.

He was sick of telling people you were his and he was yours. He figured he might as well just show them. You were completely oblivious to it, chatting merrily with Charles and Lando still.

Charles and Lando had clocked that he was staring someone down, and that always proved that he had something up his sleeve. "Baby, c'mere," he said, tugging you onto his lap by your waist. You straddled his thigh, slightly shifting around to get comfortable. 

None of them seemed to get the hint, as the group of them carried on smirking and chatting while still watching you and Carlos. Marissa winked at Carlos, and he just couldn't take it. Without warning, Carlos captured your lips in a heated kiss. 

He pulled you closer to him as your tongues danced in harmony and your hands kept him with you on the sides of his face. He kept on kissing you, barely giving you any room to breathe, but you didn't care. Kissing him was better than oxygen. 

As you continued, you subconsciously rolled your hips against his thigh, and he had to brace his hands on your waist to keep you still. If you carried on like that, it would send him absolutely feral, and that was not what you needed right now. "Sorry," you smirked as you realised what he was doing. 

"Don't be, not for that," he breathed, his heart pounding out of his chest as the group on the other side of the club finally got what you were doing, and finally started minding their own business. 

You noticed a few of the boy's business associated approaching where you were sat, so you went to move from his lap. "No, you're staying right there," he said lowly in your ear, and you were happy to stay there. 

It felt like he was talking to them for hours, and he probably was. They weren't really talking about anything of importance, since you were in public, but it was business enough to become boring. Carlos' work and deals never really interested you, you just cared that he was enjoying himself. 

You yawned, resting your head on his shoulder and nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck. You had enjoyed your evening, but you were starting to become a bit weary. "You tired?" Carlos asked quietly. "Just a little bit," you confirmed as his fingers traced up and down your spine. 

"We can go home, Charles and Lando are coming back with us because we've got some stuff we need to talk about, but we can go," he told you.

"It's OK, you can carry on talking to people, I don't mind," you yawned again, still clinging onto him. Sure, it was loud in there, but you didn't really mind. You were safe and comfortable with Carlos, so you weren't really bothered. 

"No, we're going home. My baby is tired, and she is top priority," he said, noticing how your eyes were slightly reddened due to tiredness. You didn't protest, simply letting him stand you on the floor. He said his goodbyes, and walked out with you, Charles and Lando. 

Just as you got out to the pavement, where Michael was waiting for the four of you, you heard a shriek and you audibly groaned. "Carlos! Can you drive me home? I don't have a ride," Marissa appeared, attaching herself to his other arm. 

"Get off me," he said, swatting her away from him like a fly on the wall. 

"What, so you're just going to leave me here, with all of these people who want to take advantage of me?" she cried, scurrying along behind you.

"If it'll get rid of you, then that sounds like the perfect plan," he scoffed, opening the front passenger door for you to get in, but you didn't budge from where you were stood. You weren't the possessive type like Carlos was, since you knew he was completely loyal to you, but Marissa was getting on your nerves. 

"Please? I'll reward you," she hummed, stepping closer to him. You were getting sick of it, and you couldn't hold yourself back. "Get your slutty ass away from my husband, whore," you spat, stepping in between them.  

Marissa's eyes were clouded with darkness as she turned to look at you. "I think you'll find that your husband loves a whore," she countered, closing the gap between the two of you. 

"I'm sure one of those men you were throwing yourself at tonight would love to take you home, but they probably find you insufferable as well," you said, crossing your arms as she got ever more close to you. 

It was as if the events unfolded in slow motion, as her arm raised, ready to bitch slap you in the face. Carlos was quicker though, grabbing her wrist. "You've seen what I've done to people, so don't think I'm scared to add you to the long list of individuals who have fallen to my mercy," he told her, and her face was priceless.

Carlos liked it when people were scared of him, and he especially liked it when the people were people who he thoroughly disliked. "Alright, alright, whatever. Someone else will gladly take me home," she scoffed, walking away.

"Who are you and what have you done with my wife?" Carlos asked, holding the car door open for you again. "Oh I'm still here, she just got on my final nerve. That bitch put her hands on what's mine, and I can't have that," you smirked, hopping in and closing the door behind you. 

He'd love to hear you talk like that more often. He didn't get to see that side of you regularly, but when he did, it made this tiny thing in his brain tick.

Charles, Lando and Carlos all clambered into the back seat as Michael pulled away from the club. The car ride was serene compared to the bustling atmosphere of the club, and it had gotten completely dark outside. 

Once you were home, Charles and Lando went to sit in the living room and Carlos escorted you upstairs. For a second, you just stood in the middle of the room, not mustering up the energy to undress yourself. Carlos knew you too well, his hands finding the zip of your dress. 

"Can I take this off?" he asked, pulling you backwards so that you were closer to him. 

"Yeah," you nodded, appreciating that he was asking, even if he knew you would always say yes. "Thank you," he softly said, tugging the zip all the way down to the small of your back, the garment falling off your body into a pool around your feet. 

"Do you want to put this on for now?" he asked, unhooking your robe from the back of the door. "Yeah, thank you," you said as he slotted your arms through the sleeves and tied the thin belt around your waist. "No problem, baby," he smiled, leading you over to the bed and gently sitting you down on the edge of it. 

Carlos sunk to his knees in front of you, taking your left foot into his hand and slipping your heel off of you. He moved his hands over to the other foot, taking your other heel off. He leant forward, gently kissing the inside of your calf, his lips soft against your skin. 

His lips moved up, to the inside of your knee, then your thigh, before he stood and leant over to kiss you on the forehead. "What do you want to sleep in?" he asked, standing in front of you with his arms folded. 

He had taken his suit jacket off, draping it over a chair in the corner. He had rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and he had undone his top two buttons. He looked downright delicious, but you couldn't help but want to see what was underneath the blue cotton. 

It clung to every muscle of his arms and chest, and his cheeks were flushed a slight red due to the alcohol he had drunk. "I want this," you said, tugging at the material of his shirt. Yes, you did want the shirt, but you also wanted an excuse to see his brilliant physique. 

Carlos just chuckled, seeing right through your facade, but he did as you asked anyway. He didn't say anything, he untucked it from his slacks and unbuttoned the rest of it, shrugging it off his shoulders and handing it to you. "Thank you, baby," you smirked, taking it from him. 

You took your robe off and slipped your arms through the rolled up sleeves, only doing a few of the bottom buttons up. As you sat there, you couldn't help but stare at him. Perfectly sculpted muscles under lusciously tanned skin, the perfect combination. And it looked damn good on him.

"If you wanted me shirtless, all you had to do was ask, princess," he teased, a smug smile dancing across his face as he noticed your staring. He was gorgeous, anyone with eyes could see that, but he knew he was. And he knew that his girl knew it too. 

"You're not going to do anymore of those buttons up?" he smirked, not even attempting to hide the fact that he was staring. He would have rather looked without the shirt in his way, but Charles and Lando were downstairs, so he needed to remain calm. 

"No, it's comfier this way," you smiled as he disappeared into the bathroom and reappeared with a pack of makeup wipes in his hand. He sat beside you, gently wiping away the makeup from your face. 

He held your chin with his fingers as he tilted your head up to look at him, making it easier for him to get everything off. "There we go," he softly said, inspecting your face to make sure he had gotten everything. "Can I take these out?" he asked, fingers tapping at the pins in your hair. 

"Yeah, course," you confirmed, tilting your head down this time. He pulled the pins out of place, your hair falling all around your face. Carlos moved to sit behind you, splitting your hair into three strands and plaiting the sections and tying them. 

"There you go, now you are all ready for bed," he smiled as you shuffled over to your side of the bed. He pulled the duvet over your body, kissing you on the forehead. "I'll be up as soon as I can, the stuff with Charles and Lando shouldn't take too long," he told you. 

"No rush, take your time," you mumbled, your eyes falling shut already. Carlos collected another shirt from the wardrobe and turned the lights off. As he walked down the stairs, Charles and Lando saw that he was buttoning up the other shirt he had to get. 

"What were you up to up there, Carlos?" Lando mischievously giggled, leaning forward in his seat. "Now we know why you had to take Y/N upstairs and she couldn't go by herself in her own house," Charles chipped in, also giggling along. 

"If that was the case, I sure as hell wouldn't be back down here with you two. Now, what do you want to drink?" Carlos asked, approaching the drinks trolley that sat in the corner of the room. "Whatever alcoholic substance you'll give me," Lando said, and Carlos poured three glasses of some amber liquid for them.

"Perfect, now let's talk business," Charles smiled, taking his glass and handing one of the others to Lando. "So, transport is sorted, but we might have to make some changes to the personnel carrying it out, since the guys I talked to earlier today are thick as pig shit," Carlos explained.

"I've got the cargo waiting in the port until we send for it to be moved. I've had it all tested and counted every morning and every night since it's been there," Charles told them, and they carried on with their business talk. 

You were still upstairs, tossing and turning. It had felt like hours since you had gotten into bed, but it had only been half an hour when you checked the clock on your bedside table. You had slept without Carlos plenty of times, but tonight was just one of those nights where you didn't want to. 

Carlos had said he wasn't going to be too long, but you thought that the time you were waiting for was starting to constitute as long. There was no use in just waiting for an answer, so you shuffled out of bed and buttoned up your (Carlos') shirt a bit more. 

You padded down the stairs as you heard them talking about yachts or something. Whatever it was, they seemed to have strayed away from business, but you never know. They could have started selling yachts.

"Carlos," Charles alerted him to your presence as you descended. He suddenly didn't have a single brain cell focused on business, he was solely thinking about why you would've come downstairs. One part of his brain started to worry that something was wrong, but you looked fine. 

"Eyes off, boys," he quietly said, Charles and Lando averting their eyes from your shirt-clad figure. They knew how protective and possessive Carlos was with you, and they respected it. He didn't want anyone else seeing his girl the way he did.  "Sorry to be a pest, I was just wondering what time you were coming to bed?" You asked, hoping he would just come up right away, but you weren't expecting anything. "Soon, I promise," he confirmed. He knew you didn't sleep overly well without him.

When he was holding you in his arms as you slept, you felt completely safe and like nothing could possibly harm you. Carlos had promised to protect you until he took his final breath, and you believed him. You had grown so used to being around him all the time, that you never wanted to be away from him. 

"OK, sorry to interrupt again," you apologised, turning away and heading back for the stairs. "Don't be sorry, baby, it's OK," he told you, watching until you disappeared upstairs. Carlos finished up with whatever needed doing, and he said his goodnights to Charles and Lando. 

"So, we've got the shipment moving on Thursday, set to arrive in Madrid on Saturday, and I'll be at the halfway point in Lyon, Carlos will be in Madrid, Lando will be at the start in Prague," Charles confirmed, outlining the basics of the big move that was happening. 

"Yeah, and I'll be meeting you guys in Madrid on the Saturday as well to check up on everything," Lando nodded. Carlos had planned for you two to spend a couple of days in Madrid after everything had happened, and he was looking forward to the days away.

"You guys can hang around for a bit if you want, help yourself to anything and leave whenever," Carlos said, standing from his chair and leaving his glass on the table. Yes, Charles and Lando may have been his business associates, but they were also his closest friends that he trusted, so leaving them in the house wasn't an issue. They all had each other's backs, and were always there when needed. 

"I'm here now, Miss Needy," he teased, opening the bedroom door and closing it behind him. "You didn't have to come up earlier than you planned, you know?" you sighed, rolling to face away from him. You didn't want to see that smug smirk of his, even when it was plastered on his handsome face.

"Well I did. If you want me, you have me at anytime of the day, no matter what, princess. But I know you already know that," he told you, clambering into bed behind you. "Goodnight," he mumbled, instantly feeling tired as he got comfortable.

Carlos wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you as close to him as he possibly could, nuzzling his head into your neck as he softly kissed it. "Goodnight, Carlos," you muttered through that darkness, already feeling more at ease with his mere presence. 

You may have lived in a dark, definitely illegal world, but you wouldn't trade it for anything. Carlos' job was less than desirable to you, but he seemed to enjoy the thrill, so you joined him for the ride, and you always would. 

A/N - OK so I absolutely adored writing this, I don't know if this is very 'mafia', but I still thoroughly enjoyed myself. I don't know why I'm suggesting this, since I'm already really behind on this, but would you want a part 2 in Madrid with some... Mafia drama? I won't elaborate, just lmk! Requests are open, love you! 💖

|masterlist|

[imyourbratzdoll]

Hey? I got a request for a Logan Howlett x reader x Ex! Steve Rogers one shot,(or two if you feel like it). Maybe one where Steve makes a bet with his nasty friends to date reader and she finds out and confronts Steve, but he's an asshole about it and then she leaves the tower. Years later she's with Logan Howlett and happily married and Steve is living with a lot of regret. He tried to get her back but Reader tells him what she really thinks about him and it's not good.

hi! I will be doing a part 2 where logan comes into the picture, as for now, I hope you enjoy what I've written. thank you for sending me this!

summary - the reader finds out everything was all a bet, leading her to confront steve and finally leave them behind.

warning - angst, swearing.

the gifs I use aren't mine, divider by @newlips

All fairytales start with a sad beginning.

As I enter the hallway with the biggest smile, I suddenly hear Steve talking loudly with Sam and Bucky. My brows furrow, not meaning to eavesdrop, but it’s hard when they are talking so loud, but I wish I had left.

“So when are you gonna pay up, Wilson?” I lean against the wall as I listen, wondering why Sam would have to pay Steve. Maybe he owed him money? 

“Me? What about Barnes? He was in on the bet too!” The sound of scoffs fills my ears before chuckles follow.

“I can’t believe it was so easy for her to say yes.” My brows furrow, wondering who she was and who she said yes to. Bucky continues to speak, answering the questions I probably never wanted answered. “How does someone like Y/n think you would want her?” The moment the words leave his lips, my heart drops. Finally, understanding everything, the pieces to the puzzle connect rapidly before my eyes.

The smirk on Steve’s face when I agreed to a date, the way he’d snicker with his friends anytime I’d walked into the room. How he’d ignore me anytime I’d try to show affection in public, and he’d check out other women whilst we were together. Everything was starting to make sense, and I couldn’t believe I was fooled. Who else was in on this bet? Was everyone laughing behind my back? Was this entertainment for them? 

“I know, right? You should’ve seen how excited she was when I asked her out.” The words and the cockiness of Steve’s tone cause my hand to cover my mouth as I choke back a sob. Tears brim as I hear them laugh about me for the next few minutes. “Next, I’ll give her some lie about loving her just so I can get into her pants. How much do you guys want to bet how long it’ll take for her to give in?” 

I take a deep breath when his words hit my ears, closing my eyes for a split second before I gather my bearings because I wasn’t raised to take shit from a man. Inhaling and exhaling, I tell myself that I don’t need him, and it’s his loss for losing me. 

My eyes open, nodding to myself before I push away from the wall and enter the room, causing the three horrible men to go silent. As I stare up at Steve, all three pairs of eyes look at me. He holds a cocky smirk as he steps forward, expecting me to jump into them. 

“Hey, baby. Did you miss me?” The smirk drops when I continue to stare, no emotion shown as I hold myself back from punching him in the face. 

“I was just a bet? So everything was a lie?” The sight of them snickering, and looking at each other as they look down at me, makes my blood boil. 

Steve shrugs, “so what if you were? You're lucky you even held my attention. I mean, have you looked at yourself lately?” My brows furrow and my mouth opens and closes, filled with disbelief. “Why are you looking at me like that, baby? Why don’t we just forget this mess and go to my room.” The smirk returns, and he moves forward and goes to wrap his arms around me whilst leaning down for a kiss. 

My hands come up as I push against his chest, looking at him like he’s grown three heads. “Are you fucking serious? I’m not going to have sex with you, you fucking moron. You know what, Steve? Go to fucking hell! And take your friends with you.” I push Steve away and storm out of the room, quickly heading to mine to grab my stuff and go. I couldn’t be here anymore. The thought of everything was too overwhelming.

The moment I have everything packed, I leave and don’t look back. There’s no point in saying goodbye to these people, as they probably were a part of it all. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[farfaras]

Steddie week. Day 3: First kiss. 1.4k words. Ao3 link.

@steddie-week

~

Yeah, they’re absolutely, 100 percent, morons. Like, who even is this stupid? Steve thinks that ever since facing off an evil wizard with interdimensional powers, they do not have a sense of preservation or survival when it comes to actual normal human beings.

They just wanted to have dinner! Honestly Eddie hasn’t had much trouble with people, the story that was put out made him look like a hero (which Steve is glad for, because he is) and the town believed it like they’ve believed everything since 1983.

But these fucking jocks will not leave Eddie alone. Steve is tired of this, he can’t even imagine the exhaustion that Eddie feels.

When they approached them Steve knew that it was going to be a little bit harder to get out of than the other times. There were 5 of them, and just Steve and Eddie. When it’s just one or two, Steve can usually just scare them off with a glare and a name drop.

And Eddie.

He’s an idiot.

An idiot!

Since the whole thing he pulled in the upside down, they’ve had talks. About how he’s not a coward. He’s brave and he doesn’t need to prove anything. Sometimes running is okay. Sometimes running is the only option.

But he still has trouble believing it sometimes.

Steve is patient and understanding. Robin has said many times how people have a process.

He just wishes Eddie didn’t have to live his process right at moments like these!

He loves Eddie (wait, hold on, what?), but he can be somewhat impulsive and unpredictable. Steve was hoping that while he was defusing and excusing themselves, Eddie would follow his lead. Well, wrong.

He doesn’t even know what happened! One moment he was talking and the next they’re running away from some soda splashed jocks. Oh come on, Eddie.

Robin sometimes jokes about him and Eddie being the kids’ co-parents. The kids find it funny, for some reason. Dustin calls them both dad and Mike likes to call Steve mom as if that would bother him.

But right now, Eddie doesn’t feel like a co-parent as much as he feels like another goddamn kid. Always the babysitter.

So now, they’re running from 5 guys who are pissed. And sticky.

“Why the hell did you do that?!” Steve is almost hysterical.

“I panicked! They’re so many!” Eddie is panting, and he doesn’t know how much more he’s gonna be able to keep running.

“So throwing drinks at them was your solution?!” Steve is talking a big game, but in an alternative universe, he’s probably the one who threw the drinks.

“Better than what you were doing!” Eddie argues.

“I was doing just fine!” He was! Steve was gonna get them out of there. Unscathed. He had to. That’s what he’s for.

“Words weren’t gonna stop ‘em.” True, but at least they could’ve walked out or ran, before they were pissed.

“Well I hardly see anything that could stop them now!” They take a turn so they have some time to think of something while the jocks catch up. But like Steve said there’s nothing that can help them here.

There’s some stores. And an alley in the middle of a clothing and a pet store. Eddie grabs his hand and guides them towards the clothing store. “Come on, follow my lead.”

There’s some mannequins in front of the store, Eddie takes a long dark coat off the mannequin. “What are you doing?” Steve asks.

“Shh.” Eddie just shushes him. He shushes him! What is he on?

“Wha- don’t you shush me!” He whisper yells with not a very convincing anger in his voice.

“Stop asking questions and just do what I say!” Eddie requests. Which is kind of a lot to ask considering he’s the one who worsened the situation. “I got us into this and I’ll get us out.” Huh. Steve thinks that’s fair, but he’s still hesitant.

“But I don’t know what we’re doing.” Steve doesn’t like that.

“Me neither. But it’s better than nothing.” Steve thinks Eddie kinda lives by that philosophy. Does he have that one on that doctrine he came up with?

What’s the difference between philosophy and doctrine? Huh. Wait, no sidetracking. Steve, focus! You’re both in danger.

Eddie puts the coat on, it’s so long it covers most of his legs. He also grabs the beanie and jacket that were on the other mannequin and puts it on Steve. “What’s this even gonna do?”

“I told you to stop asking questions!” Eddie’s eyes look wild.

“Sorry.” Steve’s sure Eddie is scared right now, but he does a good job of hiding it.

Eddie takes his hand and they run to the alley. Who has a dead end. Shit. They hear the voices turning the corner. Fuck, they’re gonna come across the alley anytime now.

Eddie turns to him and backs him into a corner. “Kiss me.”

Well. Steve couldn’t have heard that right. He shakes his head. “What?”

Eddie turns his back on the entrance of the alley. It’s kinda dark and they’re all the way to the back. “Now! They’re coming!” Eddie demands.

Eddie doesn’t give him much time to answer or even come up with something to say. Suddenly there are lips pressed to his. Eddie swallows any sound of surprise he might’ve been about to make. Eddie’s hands are on his chest and Steve finds himself putting his hands on Eddie’s waist and pulling him closer, as if he’s acting on instinct. There’s footsteps, voices, they seem to stop in front of the entrance. Steve doesn’t exactly know what they’re doing because he’s closed his eyes. They mutter something, god knows what, and then they go on their way. Looking for them somewhere else.

However, they don’t stop kissing when they’re gone. In fact, Steve hugs Eddie’s waist now, pulling them chest to chest while Eddie’s hands move to his face. They pull apart just to catch a single breath before going back in. Huh, now they’re just making out. Steve can call it what it is. He doesn’t know what Eddie is doing with his tongue, but he’s not complaining at all.

“I- um.” Eddie tries to step back but his embrace is strong. “My long hair.”

“Your…?” Steve’s brain isn’t computing much right now.

“From their point of view, it-“ Eddie inhales deeply. “It probably looked like a girl and a guy kissing.” Oh. Oh, Steve is so stupid. “Plus this coat almost looks like a dress.”

“Yeah, no, that’s- you-“ God, can he not even form sentences anymore? “Good thinking.” If he could, Steve would facepalm right now.

“They’re gone now.” Eddie nods.

“They sure are.” Steve confirms. Doesn’t really know what else to do.

Eddie looks around, and then directly at his eyes. That’s intense. “You can let me go now.”

He can let him go now. Eddie’s hands have moved to his shoulders, probably not knowing where else to put them.

He could let him go, now. They could go back to their respective places. And move on like this was another normal day for them.

He could do that.

Or.

Or he could confront this. Confront this thing that’s been going on between them for, in Steve’s humble opinion, far too long. He was scared before. He still is, but it doesn’t feel like something he can’t conquer, now. So he makes the decision. He’s not running away from this anymore. Even if sometimes that’s all you can do, that’s not the case here. He could be doing so much more. They could be doing so much more.

“No.” Steve says. And it’s said with finality.

Eddie looks confused. “What? What do you mean?”

“I won’t let you go.” He shrugs. They’re still holding on to each other. “I like you too much for that.”

“What are you saying?”

“Exactly what you heard. I like you.” He leans in. He waits for Eddie to back off, show any type of discomfort or rejection on his face. But there’s nothing like that. “Can I kiss you again?”

A gasp comes out. Eddie nods. “Yes.” It’s whispered and if they weren’t so close he might’ve never heard it.

This one is more gentle. Slow and soft. Almost lazy, like they don’t need to rush because they know they’re gonna get to this again. And again.

“I like you too.” Eddie rests his forehead to his.

Steve smiles at him, and when Eddie smiles back he knows. He knows that he’s gonna fall so hard. He kinda already has.

[bluebeary-jay]

hiii!! I LOVE ur writing so much especially your fluff sooooooo

fluff w this prompt?

“fine, keep acting like you hate me.”

CONGRATS ON 1K U DESERVE ITTT ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

HIIII MY FIRST LOVELY 1K REQUESTER 💕💕💕

Okay okay okay so you didn't specify which character you want so I picked Javi cause I already have a few Joels in my ask box buuut I'm actually really happy with how it turned out so I hope you'll like it!! ((There's so much fluff in this one though it's only 1.4K words))

Thank you again, darling, happy reading and i love youu!!! 💖

Javier knew that he made a mistake.

Maybe not a mistake – mistakes so very often had grave consequences in his line of work. More like a miscalculation. A stupid prank.

“A mistake,” Steve told him sternly. “You absolute moron.”

Peña just flipped him off.

Okay, maybe flirting with that secretary in your plain sight was a dumb move, but at the time it seemed like a perfect retaliation. And really, it was you who started all of it by wanting to prove to Javier the night before that he does get jealous when it comes to you.

He didn’t. He doesn’t. What he felt when you let that man at the bar flirt with you for at least twenty minutes had nothing to do with the fervor of hot kisses and passionate words that poured out of Javier after he whisked you back home.

“You were practically green,” you said softly later that night when you two were lying in bed. You had your head on Javier’s chest and he was stroking the skin of your back softly, trying to silence the whirlwind of conflicted emotions inside of him.

“F’course I wasn’t. Just had to make sure that guy wasn’t gonna try anything with you.”

“If you say so. But I think you’re full of it.”

You acted so smug about it, and only stopped after Javier completely tired you out. But what he tried to hide by biting your ear gently and kissing his way down your body was how true your words really rang.

Because deep down Javier Peña knew that he was jealous. He had a good reason for it, of course – you were fucking gorgeous, after all, and maybe he was still slightly insecure about what such a sweet angel was doing with a sinner like him. And besides… This was the first serious relationship he had in years. It was hard to separate the wary side of him that instinctively denied any sentiments and kept everyone at bay from the new him who tried to embrace the warmth and safety your love was giving him.

So that was probably why he decided to get back at you.

And the next day when you stepped out of the chief's office, you were greeted with a sight of Javier tucking the hair behind the ear and complimenting the earrings of the new secretary he was talking to. He made eye contact above her shoulder and sent you a wink when you squinted with disregard, obviously knowing what he was up to.

He also made sure you saw him swiping his bottom lip slowly with his thumb – a move he very well knew always got you hot and bothered.

Though when he looked up again, you were gone.

Maybe he could’ve guessed it’d end like this, Javier thought as he casually (and not at all nervously) walked around the embassy, looking for you. It was supposed to be a payback – for what exactly, even he didn’t know – but it backfired immensely when after his little stunt you opted to avoid him the rest of the day.

And that was a low blow. Because while your attempts at ignoring him were futile, only serving to get Javier going and making him eager to rile you up and see you break, it didn’t give him the same satisfaction when you weren’t there to witness his teasing.

Since you worked in the same building, you couldn’t exactly avoid him forever, but damn if you didn’t try. It took Javier half a day to finally escape work and manage to corner you in one of the file rooms.

You didn’t look up even when he locked the door, obviously aware that it was him you now were trapped with.

“You sure are good at hiding from a DEA agent, cariño,” Javier rasped, a little breathless but weirdly excited from the chase.

But you didn’t move, still casually gathering necessary files. A hint of a smile was dancing in the corner of your mouth and that was the thing that confirmed his suspicions that you weren’t actually mad at him, but only beating him as his own game.

And honestly, as Javier’s eyes wandered over your silhouette, admiring the beauty of the woman he fell in love with, he was willing to let it go.

He slowly sauntered to you, feeling all hot under his suit the closer he got. You always seemed to have this effect on him.

“Are you still mad?” he asked huskily, circling you like you’re his prey. You lifted your shoulder in a half-shrug, and your fake disinterest only turned him on even more. He snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you against him and humming with satisfaction when he saw you pressing your lips together to suppress a smile. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, querida.”

You didn’t take the bait like he hoped for, and Peña groaned in small frustration when you continued to give him the silent treatment.

For fuck’s sake, you really had him wrapped around your little finger.

“Fine,” he murmured, breathing hot air on your ear and smirking with delight when he felt you shiver slightly against him. He pressed his lips to the spot below your ear softly, and then continued to go down the column of your neck. “Keep acting like you hate me.”

You didn’t move or acknowledge him in any way, but Javier could see your hand, which was previously sorting through some papers, gripping the shelf as if you tried not to lose yourself in his ministrations. It made him smile to himself and wrap his arms more securely around you, forcing you to take half a step back so that your bodies fitted together perfectly.

“We both know that’s all it is. An act,” Javier murmured, peppering your neck and shoulder in slow, tender kisses. He sighed heavily, with peace he rarely experienced these days, and closed his eyes as he felt your form melting into him. “Serás mi muerte, bebita.”

You stifled a laugh and leaned your head back on Javier’s shoulder, glancing at him with twinkling eyes. “What are you even doing here, agent Peña? Didn’t you have some unfinished business with that secretary?”

“Why, you jealous?” he asked, nibbling at your skin, and you snorted.

“You wish,” you replied but then squealed when he bit your neck unexpectedly.

“Mi nena terca.”

You stopped hiding your beautiful, radiant smile and turned around in his arms, leaning back against the shelf. Javier kept his hand between the small of your back and the harsh metal, not wanting it to dig into your skin uncomfortably.

“You didn’t last very long,” you said, but now your tone was soft, with no traces of mockery or playfulness he heard earlier. “I thought that given how things once were, I’d be the one to eventually seek you out.”

“It’s ‘cause I don’t wanna go back to how things were,” he whispered, his eyes boring into yours, trying to convey to you that he meant every word. “I don’t care about anyone else, bebita. You are the one for me and I want you to know that.”

“I know, Javi,” you reassured him gently, brushing some hair away from his forehead. “You don’t need to explain.”

“Still.” He nudged your nose with yours, inching his lips closer to where he desperately yearned to put them. “Let me make it up to you. Take you out. Somewhere romantic, not that dingy bar like the last time.”

“Because you don’t want to see me flirting with strangers?”

Your seemingly innocent question made the hold he had on you tighten, and Javier exhaled heavily through his nose.

“Fuck, bebita, have you seen yourself? Of course I don’t. You are mine, and mine alone.” He planted a soft kiss on your lips, not looking away for even a second. “And I’m yours.”

It didn’t feel weird, anymore, to say it. It felt right and warm, and wonderful. Javier never would’ve guessed he’d feel like that about anyone, but here you were – so perfect and standing right in front of him.

“I really wanna kiss you,” you whispered, and he mirrored your bright smile, something very few people have ever seen.

“Just to shut me up? Or have you perhaps missed me, too?”

Your lips surged forward, smashing into his eagerly and not bothering to answer him. Agent Peña let the overwhelming love for you guide his movements as he cradled the back of your head and pulled you closer and flush against himself.

Seemed that from the very beginning he didn’t need to feel jealous.

It was clear that you were his and his only.

Serás mi muerte, bebita - You’ll be the death of me, baby

Mi nena terca - My stubborn baby

[tanasha-not-yet]

What do you think Greylock's favourite food is? And do you think he prefers sweet or sour foods?

ah idk idk!!

i tried to reply to this like two times already i feel veery cringe about these but you knew what you were subscribing to when you hit the follow button so behold

instinctively i want to give him: 1. love for sweets (to fight with cedric over jellybeans, to mess with slickwell by 'degustating' every fucking cake they make at the kitchen, to have a ton of lil candys in his pockets etc. it has a con tho bc i think the message 'this fat guy likes sweets A Lot' is preeety problematic but dude. this thin guy likes sweets just as much imo let them be.) 2. love for some stinky shit like garlic and onion (for a IM NOT FUCKING KISSING YOU AFTER YOU ATE THAT GARLIC BREAD YOU MORON situation) 3. love for little treats and snacks (to make this person eat crackers and leave crumbs where cedric doesnt want them to be; plus it lines up with some attention troubles hc which is based on totally nothing) 4. also in terms of cooking id give him an ability and love for baking?? i think?? cannot relate to it at all but this man Would bake a bread toad or a bunch of cedric shaped cookies with a comically long nose to eat in front of him (EATING HIM UP you know) (and when cedric tried doing the same thing in revenge he would end up with hilariously ugly fucked up cookies from those tiktoks which greylock would laugh at for fucking days)

if i tried to say anything based tho? based? me? i can only say cringe sorry my bros. but i think some of these would make sense: 1. him having some restrictions about sweets (medical or maybe personal). based on the sour look he gives cedric when he conjures a piñata. this hc is kinda bad in terms of making the original message (greylock hates the spotlight being stolen) less clear by adding on an additional reasoning. but i think its hilarious like You Fucking Knew I Cant Eat Too Much Sugar Per Day And Invoked Every Candy I Love Right In Front Of My Face. You'll pay for it Right Now 2. since i hc his job mainly being about organising parties in the castle he probably hangs out around rich people a lot and kinda eats from the same table?? if it makes sense?? so in my head he knows quite some things about superexpensive food and can define vines (their ages, sorts of grapes, country etc you know this stereotypical rich shit), super obscure caviar sorts and idk im not rich lol 3. he totally have eaten some Too Spicy Sauses or Too Big Steaks or Too Strong Drinks just to prove he can. competitiveness is like his main trait he totally knows what it's like to attempt to say a fully coherent toast right after 100g of vodka so that the king even wouldnt notice he's drunk just because a random nobleman said he couldnt. this may also be one of many reasons he chose to entertain the kids (I REPEAT, ONE OF MANY) if he had a choice of course

maybe these are too childish i apologize if they are. two years into i still cant place a full three dimentional character in my head my media literacy is dying on the grave of the last book i read an embarrassingly long time ago

[punkflower11]

Choose Your Own Adventure: Miles Morales - Part 5

Prev | Masterlist

————

Okay, time to diffuse this conversation.

"Tell me what? That his own father works for a fascist and oppressive organization intent on undermining a government of the people? Right, screw this. Sorry Miles, but I think I'm done 'ere."

He needed to do something and fast. By now, Miles definitely should have learned not to act upon the first idea that his mind supplies him with but apparently the universe thought that it was too out of character for him, so.

"You know, that's big talk coming from someone who looks like they'd tear apart the government themselves."

He could grab Hobie and kiss him. That... was certainly an idea. An idea that Miles would not be opposed to he thought, looking approvingly at Hobie's lips.

Ah, shit.

It was happening again.

What if he started choking? The absurdity of the notion slaps Miles across the face. Choosing to ignore how the fuck that idea spawned into his brain, Miles quickly decides that it would probably be the less stupid of the two ideas, given the circumstance.

(Not that it was the one that he preferred, of course.)

"Mate, you are literally proving my point by profiling me. That's exactly what officers like you are doing!"

Miles let out a singular, pathetic wheeze. It was the least convincing choking noise he had never heard, and definitely not enough to tear attention away from the conversation. Louder, Morales.

"'Officers like me?' Son, I don't think that I'm the one doing the profiling here-" the cop was cut off by a harsh cough to his left. Several pairs of eyes snapped in Miles direction.

Not that loud!

Seeing as he already had everyone's attention, he figured that may as well commit to the bit and continues hacking.

"Miles?"

"What's wrong with him?" Jeff asks, genuinely confused. Rio looks at him, incredulous.

"We call it 'coughing'," Hobie deadpans. Jefferson glares right back.

"Oh really? I had no idea."

"Hush. I think he might be choking on something." Rio observes. Miles begins another round of intense coughing. That's it, he thinks. Oh no, I'm dying! Be worried, pay attention to me and forget your quarrels!

Miraculously, it seems works as the arguing ceases and everyone grows concerned.

"Baby hold on- Does anyone know CPR?"

"Don't look at me." Jefferson tells her.

"'Punch to the gut 'll prob'ly help up," Hobie suggests.

What.

"What? No! In what way will winding him will help?" Yes, Thank you sane and reasonable person.

"Dunno, innit supposed to 'elp stun 'is diagram or somethin'?"

"What do you mean- that's exactly-"

"How on God's green Earth did you manage to pass Biology? Did you even pass Biology?"

"Guys, really not the time." Miles rasps. The three watched as Miles continues to figuratively cough up his soul, no doubt tainted by weeks of endless deceit.

The thing is that it wasn't even good deception. If Miles wasn't already cursed for lying then bad acting was definitely a runner-up.

"We should punch him." Please don't.

"Try it and see what happens."

"Miles, hold on-"

“You know what, I think I'm actually starting to feel a little better now, so y-” Oh no.

That's when Miles actually begins to choke.

It's kind of hilarious. What moron thinks he can fool his family by pretending to choke, and then in the process actually starts choking? Miles wants to scoff at the comical misfortune, but can't because at the moment is busy coughing up his own lungs.

Miles feels a hand begin rub circles his around back. Tearing his gaze from the table to find the owner of the arm, his eyes find Hobie. At this Miles dies a little on the inside, dumbstruck by Hobie's touch. He tries not to overthink it. Tries.

Fortunately, his coughing begins to tapper off shortly after downing two glasses of water (his own and Hobie's). Never doing that again, he promises himself, clearing his throat.

"You police and all ya shady tactics." Hobie scoffs. 'Wanna help people.' What a load of bull."

Miles was about to pound his boyfriend's head in for cursing but decided to let it slide as his voice was a bit sore.

"I'm shady?" Jefferson reeled, incredulous. "Alright then, I'd like to know what you were doing with Miles all that time he was at your house." Oh shit. They did not prepare for this.

"Well we- uh, ahem. That's nunya effin' business. As if I would sell Miles out to a copper."

"Well as a 'copper' and his father I'm the best person he could trust." Yikes. This was not a road Miles wanted to go down tonight.

"And I’m asking you to for once get your head out of your arse- er, assets, and try see it from his perspective!”

"This is who you’re dating? Really, Miles? This guy.” Jefferson asks Miles. "I’m just gonna say it. I don’t like him."

"Funny, because I don't remember asking you to." Miles replies, irritated. He isn't sure why, but this tips him the wrong way.

"Miles," Rio warns.

"I’m sorry but no, actually. You asked to meet him and here he is. Why do you have to like him? I do, and really, that should be enough. All I've asked you to do is sit at the same table with him for ten minutes and not kill each other, which for some reason is proving to be a difficult task."

Honestly so what if his parents didn’t like everything about Hobie. Did it really matter if they didn’t approve of his clothes, attitude or opinions so long as Miles was cool with it? In the end he was the one dating the teen, not his parents.

“He is an anarchist-”

"He's also my boyfriend, who clearly happens to care about me. Didn't you tell me to watch out for people who have my back? Guess what; Hobie has my back. Even when you can't." He knows it’s cruel, but it doesn’t stop him.

Underneath the table Hobie intertwines his fingers with Miles’ and gives the hold an encouraging squeeze. Miles continues.

"I'm not asking you to love him. I mean, I would appreciate it, but just getting along would more than enough."

Surprisingly, this seems to silence any remaining disputes. Reluctantly, both Hobie and his Dad turn their attention back to the once abandoned meals.

The stillness is stiff and uncomfortable, which Miles knows he’s likely responsible for.

Miles hates how much of this he has to fight tooth and nail for. And how in the end it wasn't going to matter as he and Hobie weren't even seeing each other in the first place.

If a little part of Miles was somewhat hoping that the whole experience could bring two together, it had proved to be a dumb idea. He wasn't exactly sure why he thought it would work, as fake dating was always recipe doomed to fail spectacularly. Which was fair, as deception hadn't done much for him anyways.

Oh well. Guess you can't lie your way into happy parents and a free boyfriend. It was really too bad.

"I know that it's probably impossible for just one cop to change a system. In fact, sometimes I think I might be contributing to it, doing more harm than good." Jefferson eventually says. "But damn if I won't try anyways."

Miles is left stunned. His eyes follow Hobie who seems to be having a similar reaction to the words. What shocks him even more is the admiration he finds twinkling in the teen's eyes.

"I... actually respect that. A lot."

"You're a little odd, but I think I understand where you're coming from. Miles seems to like you, so you must be alright." Rio adds.

"Yeah. Even if you still look like vandalism and bad ideas." the officer chuckles. Hobie grins mischievously.

"Guilty."

"And you're grades are alright?"

"Dad."

"My grades are brilliant." Funny enough, this was actually true.

"I had to ask."

"You really didn't."

"They had better be for all that silver crap you wear." Jefferson then says to Hobie, much to Miles' mortification. Thankfully, Hobie's response to this is to laugh.

"S'what Abe said too."

"He sounds like a smart guy."

"He wishes." Hobie snorts.

"That your brother?"

"Unfortunately."

"I had a brother." the elder takes a sip from his glass.

"I heard. Sorry 'bout that one." Jefferson smiles, bittersweet.

"All good. Just gotta keep pushin' you know?"

"Yeah."

The four continued to converse throughout the evening, managing to steer clear of any more hiccups. Rio and Hobie engage in a light debate over whether Elvis Presley was really an icon or a fraud, and later, Hobie shares his love of 'expressive art' with Miles' parents.

("I even did this piece on the B's bridge last week," Jefferson chokes on his water.

"Wait, that was you?")

Eventually the dishes were scrubbed clean after Rio's insistence that everyone take a fifth serving (Hobie somehow able to eat more meanwhile Miles was on the verge of combustion) when Miles decided to take the opportunity and excuse the two from the table.

"If you don’t mind, Hobie and I are gonna tap out now." He says, arising from the station. Miles looks to the other and smiles tellingly.

"My room?" Hobie chirps a 'sure' and gets up, following Miles down the corridor.

"Remember to leave the door open!" he hears Rio call from behind him.

"Right." He was not doing that.

Sliding down the corridor with help from his socks, Hobie purposefully slams into Miles. The two stumble forward, awkwardly catching each other all whilst failing to stifle their laughter.

"You boys better be behaving yourselves!" A voice sounds from the kitchen.

Miles stills and gives Hobie a pointed look, grabbing the other by his hand. Hobie fastens the grip and doesn't let go. Instead, he pulls Miles in closer and playfully presses a kiss to his forehead.

"For performance points," Bastard. Heart pounding in his ears, Miles half-hardheartedly rolls his eyes before pushing open the door to his bedroom. Hobie wastes no time in collapsing onto Miles' bed as the door swings closed behind them. Draping himself over his desk chair, Miles sighs a breath of relief.

"We actually pulled that off. Huh."

"I can hardly believe it myself."

"I guess fake dating really does work."

"Careful, you don’t want to jinx it." Miles jokes.

He watches Hobie's gaze thoughtfully trail around his room from his posters, to figurines and art supplies. In a way, having Hobie in his room felt like opening him up an intimate part of Miles' life. Encompassed around his own personal space, filled to the brim with personality and expression. The last non-relative person to visit his room had been Gwen, who, at the time Miles had also low key had a thing for-

-and why exactly was he drawing parallels between people he liked visiting his room-

-honestly it was almost like he enjoyed setting himself up for disaster but-

"Did your mom actually play trombone in high school?" Hobie asks suddenly, fishing Miles from out of his spiral.

"Yup. She’s really proud of it."

"I liked her. Concise." Hobie chuckles.

"Well she hasn’t expressly forbid me from seeing you yet so I’d say that’s a good sign." He says, thoughtful.

"And Jefferson?" Miles winces.

"He doesn't hate you. Dislike certainty, but I think he respects you."

"'e’s not too terrible himself." Hobie shrugs.

"Glad you think so." Miles says dryly.

"But we aren't dating," Hobie points out.

So it doesn't matter anyways.

Miles frowns.

"Guess not." Hobie cocks his head to the right.

"You sound bummed."

"I mean, a little." Miles stiffens.

Did he really just say that?

Out loud?

Goddammit Morales.

"Could have been fun." he hastily adds.

"The food was good," Fortunately Hobie doesn't seem to catch on to the slip up.

"Aye. Shame I can’t eat like that every night." Hobie pokes fun.

Well.

Technically,

"You’re always welcome back, you know. I’m sure my mom would be ecstatic to have you." Miles pokes fun.

"As your…?"

"Which ever. Friend. Boyfriend." Hopefully both. "Just show up as yourself, whoever that is."

"Cool. I uh, should probably head out now."

"Right. Want me to show you out?"

"Out your window?" He asks, confused. Right. Because leaving through the front door is apparently a foreign concept.

"Never mind. So, see you in a bit?" Miles watches as Hobie slides open the unlocked window.

"Sure thing babe." Hobie says whilst climbing out of the room.

What if.

The idea grabs and shakes him by the shoulders, but once it pops up it's definitely there.

Technically, nothing was stopping Miles from asking Hobie out right now. Except for the fact that, well, it was crazy.

It wasn't even a question of whether he liked him or not. Frankly, It was so painfully obvious that it was a good thing his parents thought that they were already dating.

Plus, was it really okay to ask the universe for more? Because, really, it had already been a miracle that tonight had turned out okay. The chance that he could monumentally fuck things up between them were so high on the scale that it should have scared him into going back to chasing Gwen.

But they didn't.

Wait, Miles was getting ahead of himself here. Did Hobie even like him back? Even reading into it was difficult. Additionally, Miles knew that Hobie was a flirt. While it was nice to think that the gestures were sweet, in reality they were probably meaningless. Ouch.

Then again, what was the worst that could happen? It wasn't like Miles was expecting him to say yes anyways. At least this way he'll always know that he tried, and that for sure that nothing was ever there.

"Hobie wait," He blurts out before he's finished weighing the pros and cons.

"Yeah?" Hobie waits, one foot out the window. Miles inhales sharply.

Was this it?

Now or never.

massive shout out to my beta beloved @ihrtwillow for helping with me out with that ending. yeesh.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Follows from @angst-after-dark's piece here

-

There's a little coffeeshop down the road from the soup kitchen, and Jameson makes his way there, clutching a handful of dollars that Taron's friend had slipped him when he told her to fuck off and stop trying to make conversation. Then he'd apologized for telling her to fuck off. Then she'd given him the money.

He curls up on a couch in the corner. It's a million years old and sagging in the middle, but soft, and he can sit here sipping coffee until they ask him to leave. Dark clouds gather overhead, promising rain. Thunder rolls somewhere in the distance, as low as Robert's voice rumbling when he ordered Jameson out of the cage.

He misses Nanda's deeper growl, the purr always at the edge of every order given. Men always talk to him like that, low and deep. There are so many flavors of deep voices, so many different tastes on his tongue.

The thunder comes again, louder this time.

"Oh, Elsie'll be scared as shit," He mutters. Taron's goat - or, well, Zizi's really - didn't like loud deep noises like that. She'll be hiding in the barn behind haybales or something. Taron'll have to hunt around for her.

Well. Not his problem anymore. He'd seen the look on Taron's face after he hurt him, heard the get out of here that the man never said.

Jameson looks down, taking another sip. The coffee is good but it just makes the way his chest twists in hurt and... and guilt, cut a little deeper. He had known sooner or later that Taron would get sick of him. It was just a matter of time..

But he still feels like shit about it.

The little bell over the door rings as people come inside, probably just wanting out of the rain that had started to fall, droplets tap-tap-tapping. Jameson closes his eyes, fighting the saltwater heat stinging there. He doesn't cry anymore. Robert took every year he had left. He won't cry again.

He was stupid to think his broken brain was worth fighting for. His broken body, scarred and in pain all the time. The legs that some days don't work, and he has to pretend he doesn't want to do chores so he doesn't have to admit that he does want to help, but his knees won't straighten out without agony, his legs won't hold his weight. He was stupid to think some guy would want to deal with his nightmares and how sometimes he tastes the voices of people who have died, how nightmares wake him up screaming.

With all his scars and his fucked up bald patches, he isn't even pretty enough to earn it by opening his legs. Nobody wants a scarred slut.

Especially not one who pulls a knife when you're just trying to help him, the fucking moron.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Stupid-

He jams the palm of his hand against his eyelids, fighting the way his throat closes up, how badly he wants to cry. Not here. Not now. Not ever again.

The couch dips as someone sits down next to him, and he turns to snarl fuck off, can't you see I'm a fucking danger to you only to have the words die in his throat, the taste of them turn to nothing on his tongue.

Zizi, head tipped to one side, waggles her fingers in a wave. "Hello."

Jameson blinks.

Then he looks away, and-

Taron, lurking with hands in his pockets. Long sleeves cover the bandage Jameson knows is there on his arm. He looks as bad as Jameson probably does, the exhaustion written in his face and frame.

"What-..." He has to clear his throat, rubbing aggressively at tear tracks to pretend they never existed. He looks from one of them to the other. "Why the fuck are you here?"

Zizi is the one who answers. Her voice pops on his tongue, like always. If she ever kissed him he might melt into the floor. "We came here for you, Jameson."

"... Why?" His eyes go to Taron. The cold anger of this morning isn't there, not even when Jameson searches for it, for even a hint. He just looks tired, and... relieved. "I fucking cut your arm. You could have bled-"

"Gave myself stitches." Taron shrugs, as if discussing taking a short walk on a sunny day. "Done it before. Not such a deep cut."

"I'm..." He didn't know what to say. He had been thinking about leaving an apology note at the restaurant, taping it to the door and then disappearing again. Easier for them. Easier to understand that he knows he isn't wanted anymore.

Except-

They're both here.

"I'm not safe," He finally says, rasping, just above a whisper. "I have nightmares-... all the time."

Zizi puts a hand on Jameson's shoulder, thumb rubbing a little there, soothing. How she does this - touches without intent or coercion, only affection - is a revelation for Jameson. He can't remember anyone before the two of them who could touch him without demanding something in return.

Taron, where he stands, only nods.

"I wake up and I-I don't know where I am. I could... do anything. Hurt anybody. I hurt you. I don't want to-... But I don't know. I only see..." He trails off. "I only see Robert. Or Brute."

The two of them share a look, but Jameson doesn't see it. He's staring down at his coffee again. Outside, thunder cracks and the lights in the coffeeshop flicker. Someone laughs nervously across the room, acidic like orange juice.

"People who hurt you," Zizi says, voice low and soft. She moves close to him and something in Jameson's iron isolation cracks. He leans against her, lets his head rest on her shoulder.

"People who fucked me up," He agrees, eyes closed. "Better I stay off by myself, anyway. It could happen again. I could hurt someone again-... I don't-... I don't want to hurt someone again... But I wake up and I see him, and I know if I don't fight this time... it doesn't fucking matter. I hurt you, and you, you did the right fucking thing, telling me to go. I won't bug you anymore. I'll fuck off, and you don't have to worry about me anymore."

"Oh, honey," Zizi murmurs. Her arms go around him.

There's a silence.

Then, Taron says in his own soft, deep voice, "I didn't tell you to go, kid."

"... What?"

"Didn't... Didn't want you to go."

[undreaming-fanfiction]

With This Ring (14)

Chapter 13 here, Ao3 here

“So…that’s that.” 

How flat, how definite. Steve might have just solved a murder and sure, it felt fantastic and he was drunk on the victory, but it didn’t really change anything. The triumph turned into ashes in his mouth. 

Eddie was still dead. And their arrangement was done. 

The church was quiet, vacated by most of the wedding guests, but Robin and Nancy were still with them, embracing and waiting for what would happen next. 

“I…” he whispered, taking Eddie’s cold hand in his. “I’m…I’m happy you won’t be stuck down there any longer. I really am. And I’m sorry if this sounds stupid, or if I’m seeing something that’s not there.” 

Eddie bit his lip. “Steve…” 

“No, let me finish. Please.” It was almost funny. While Steve prided himself on wearing his heart on his sleeve, no matter how vulnerable it made him, he wasn’t great with words. Just a few hours ago, he had no idea how to voice what he felt. But now the words were pouring out, raw and unfiltered, and he had no intention of stopping them.

He grasped Eddie’s hand even more firmly and felt the cool metal of the ring that, in spite of his and Nancy’s family, found its way to the right person. “Having you back, even for such a short time…it made me realize I was an absolute moron when I thought I could ignore you. That I could forget you, you and your music. At first, I thought it was just an outlet, a hobby, but…I don’t think I would have fallen in love with it so deeply if it weren’t for you. I think I fell in love with music because it was a part of you.” 

Eddie’s lip was trembling, but he wasn’t letting Steve go. He interlaced his fingers with Steve’s and pulled him closer, holding their hands cradled to his chest. How could Steve not continue after that?

“I fell in love with you years ago, Eddie. It took me way too long to figure it out, but…that’s what it is,” he shrugged. “And maybe I should have kept it to myself, to let you pass peacefully. But I wanted you to know. I’m selfish like that.” 

“Selfish my ass, Harrington,” Eddie chuckled, but the sound was wet, pained. “I haven’t seen you do a single thing for yourself.”

Steve smiled at him. “Then let me show you one.” 

Slowly, giving Eddie all the time in the world to move out of the way, he kissed him. It was a brief and chaste peck on the lips. 

Eddie whimpered when Steve pulled back. Before he knew it, Steve’s arms were full of his friend, his love, as Eddie pulled him into a tight hug and buried his face into Steve’s shoulder. 

“You asshole,” he whispered. “You utter asshole. You couldn’t have done this when I was still alive, huh? You just appeared one day with your…your hair, your hands, your stupidly bright smile, made me forget I’d ever even looked at other boys, even if I had no chance with you. And now…how the fuck am I supposed to move on, huh? How am I supposed to leave?” 

Steve was stroking his back, his hair, and maybe there were some of his own tears too. “I’m so sorry,” he muttered into Eddie’s wild locks. They smelled of Steve’s shampoo. “Told you, I’m selfish. And I really didn’t want to hold you back, I swear, but it’s just…it’s impossible not to love you.” 

“Says the guy I’ve been in love with since he butchered “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” on the school piano,” Eddie snorted, but soon his smile faded away. “I think we have…what. Two days before they deliver the tape, and then it’s over for me. I thought…I really thought I’d be happy. But it feels like I’m leaving everything I love behind.” 

“Eddie-”

They barely registered the church door opening. The next sentence, however, was way more difficult to ignore. 

“Well. Good thing you probably won’t have to.” 

Steve and Eddie spun around and stared at the quiet procession from the land of the dead. It was led by Murray who did his absolute best not to limp under Alexei’s weight. Bob was by his side, holding a bunch of books. There was Benny, Nancy’s grandmother, and many others. 

Well. That wasn’t menacing at all.

“But...I signed the contract,” whispered Eddie. He was still wrapped around Steve and didn’t seem keen on leaving their embrace.. “Stupid, I didn’t even think...but I signed it. I need to move on.” 

As surprising as it was for someone without blood flow, muscles or skin, Murray’s face seemed like there was a vein twitching. “Yes, you did sign it.” But instead of finality in his voice, Steve detected...annoyance? Confusion? Definitely internal conflict. 

“...but?” asked Steve, prompting Murray to voice whatever was eating him up inside. 

“There might have been...a loophole,” he muttered between clenched teeth. “If I’m honest...I don’t know if I should be impressed or mad.” He motioned towards Bob who was proudly holding Eddie’s contract in his injured hand. “Read it. And you,” he said to Bob, “tell him what you did.”

Bob’s smile was, as always, gentle and unassuming. He briefly cleared his throat and glanced at the paper. “I, Eddie Munson, swear to move on. My conditions are: I record my music and send it to my contact, Craig in Indianapolis, with potential royalties, rights, whatever...to Wayne. When it reaches him, I can go.” He winked at Eddie and Steve as if it answered everything. 

They just stared back. 

Murray tapped his finger impatiently on the ancient tome in his arms. “And what did you do...?!” 

“Oh, right.” Bob folded the paper back into his shoulder bag, with less care than would be appropriate for such an important document. “When did you send that tape?” 

“Uh…today?” 

The soft tone of Bob’s voice carried on. “Did you check it before sending it?” 

When Steve just stared and remained quiet, a confused wrinkle on his brow, Murray growled. “Just tell him.” 

Smile still on his face, Bob shushed Murray. “I’ll do even better. I’ll show him.” He reached into his vest pocket and produced something black and tiny. It was Ozzy, grumpy and sleepy as always. Bob gently nudged his side and the bat’s wings unfurled, revealing a familiar-looking tape. 

Eddie’s mouth opened in amazement, his eyes wide and still glistening with tears. “Oh.” 

Bob grinned at him, although there was a tinge of guilt in it. “I’m afraid I decided to…how to say it best. Meddle a bit.” 

Eddie licked his lips and stared at Bob, as if he’d just handed him a winning lottery ticket. “So…it never got sent. It won’t reach him because it’s here,” he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. “I...I thought it was already collected on its way to Craig. You decided to swap it?!” He was laughing at the end, wiping his eyes. “Jesus H Christ, undead bureaucracy, am I right? I’m so glad I have rule-breaking friends!” 

Alexei, who had left Murray’s shoulder and was sitting perched on a nearby statue, winked at Steve. He had a hunch that Ozzy had some help opening the case. But Murray could never learn about the feathers left on Robin’s floor, or the nonexistent vein on his forehead would actually explode.

Steve still couldn’t believe his ears. It sounded too good to be true. “So...it’s that simple?” he asked cautiously. “We just...tear up the contract, you do your magic thing and Eddie will be-” 

He couldn’t bear to say it. He couldn’t say it because what if it wouldn’t work? 

Steve tried again, forcing the words through his teeth. “Didn’t you say that no one would ever ask for these spells? And that there was some horrible cost to the ones that worked?” 

Murray really seemed at the end of his rope. His bony fingers clutched the book like a lifeline. “Yeah, I said all of that. And it all stands, except...there’s a certain...peer pressure.” He spat out the words like a curse. “Eddie, congratulations. You’re the first one to get kicked out of the world of the dead. There’s even a petition.”

Eddie just blinked. “There’s a...what?” 

“A petition.” Another paper found its way into Bob’s hands, and he passed it to Eddie in barely contained triumph. “We, the inhabitants of the Hawkins section of the world of the dead, have decided that in order to rest in peace and quiet, we agree to break the unwritten law against resurrection spells.” He laid his healthy hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “No offense Eddie, we love your music so much, but if we ever have to hear you moan about an imperfect chord again or smash your forehead against piano keys, we might have to rebrand to a purgatory.” 

Eddie’s dark eyes skimmed over the signatures. There were...a lot of them. “How did you have time for this?” he asked incredulously. No way had this been completed in the short time he was upstairs. “Was that you, Bob?”

Bob laughed and shook his head. “Oh no, I’m not that persuasive.” 

Murray’s murderous stare revealed to everyone what he thought of that statement. 

“I’m serious, Eddie. I was working in the tower with Murray and Alexei. But someone else volunteered. Someone who provided invaluable help to our...revival cause.” 

Eddie of course asked who it was, who was the one that decided to give him a second shot at life, but Steve didn’t need the name. As he heard gentle steps behind him, he immediately recognized the pattern that haunted his dreams to this day. He turned towards the sound and felt breath catch in his throat. 

“Hi, Steve.” 

“Hi, Barb,” he choked out and reached towards her, pulling her into a hug. He heard Nancy’s sob near the altar and the sound of her heels. Soon the embrace wasn’t just him, it was the three of them, just like the day of that fateful pool party. 

There was a “I’m so sorry” said, but he didn’t know if it was him or Nancy. Probably both. And Barb was still smiling and stroking their backs, quietly instructing them to breathe. 

“Why can’t you come back?” whispered Nancy, and Steve was stabbed with a new thorn of guilt. In his elation of getting Eddie back, he never spared a single thought to all the people taken before their time. 

But Barb shook her head, hugging him and Nancy even closer. “I’ve never been much of a rebel,” she laughed into Nancy’s hair. “My only regret was that I never got to say goodbye to my parents, never got to tell them how much I loved them for the last time. And with Eddie coming back…well. I hope he won’t be opposed to delivering one letter?” 

Her eyes found the long-haired young man. 

“Of course. Shit, of course I won’t,” he choked out and joined their group embrace, squishing all three of them together. “I mean, I won’t mind. I will deliver anything you ask for.” 

“Thank you, Eddie.” Barb had been detached, almost shy in her life, but now she was relaxed. For the first time that Steve had known her, she seemed to be at peace. 

Nancy held on to her, gripping Barb’s sweater with white knuckles. “B-but! You had so much to live for! Still do!” 

Barb’s pale hand kept patting Nancy’s back, stroking between her shoulder blades just like she had a thousand times before, when her best friend got bullied for being too thin, when she lost an argument with her teacher despite being right, when she dared to think for the first time she might not be in love with Steve despite him being exactly what she should have wanted. The coldness didn’t dull the comfort of the gesture. 

“Nance. I know it hurts, and I’m so sorry I had to leave you. But I need to go. I’m okay with that.” She took Nancy’s face into her hands and wiped away the tears, smiling from behind her glasses. “Hey, don’t be sad. Accidents happen, it’s not fair, I know. But it was only that - an accident. You and Steve did everything you could to save me. I saw you both. You fought for me until the very end and I’m so grateful to have been loved like that.” 

She looked at Steve and, in a very non-Barb fashion, pinched his cheek. “Don’t make that face. Despite what you think, you did enough. More than enough. I might not have seen it that way directly after, but now I know. Neither of you did anything that would need forgiveness, but if it helps you…I forgive you. And I want you both to be happy.” 

She squeezed Nancy, Steve and Eddie one last time and then took a step back. “I think we’re ready to proceed here,” she smiled at Murray. 

The skeleton grumbled in annoyance, but he picked up the old grimoire. “Finally, I was getting worried my bones would turn into dust before we finish this…exceptional resurrection. Now, will the sacrifice come forward?” 

That caught Eddie’s attention. “A sacrifice? What sacrifice?” 

Murray moved to the side and so did the visiting inhabitants of the world of the dead. 

In the middle of the aisle sat Dart. He was impatiently grooming his whiskers. “That would be me. Hi again.” 

The skeleton’s bald spot was about to catch on fire. “Apparently, the tome does not specify a human sacrifice is needed,” he muttered through his teeth. “How original to think of that, Bob.”

Eddie ran to him, kneeled in front of the disinterested cat. He held Dart gently by his sides, as if he’d wanted to shake him by his shoulders.  “Oh no no. Nonono. You won’t. I can’t be responsible for someone’s death. And you…you helped me so much. I mean, you bitched a lot, but I held it together thanks to you and Ozzy. I can’t-” 

Dart pawed at Eddie’s hands, no claws. Yet. “How cute. You really think you can keep a cat from doing what he wants to do.”

“But-”

“No buts, Edward Theodore Munson.” But of course, Eddie had that wounded look that no one, not even Dart, could resist. He sighed and nudged Eddie’s knee as an apology. “How long do you think I have, huh? I can’t even jump on the counter in Benny’s bar without help. I’m going blind. I know that my time is coming. And that brutish ginger asshole is getting closer and closer to my territory.”

“What asshole?” whispered Steve to Barb. 

Barb shook her head. “The cat Dustin’s neighbors have. Garfield’s his name, if you can believe it. He’s not even fat. But he’s been getting more and more control over Dart’s street.” 

Dart disregarded them and continued. “I can just waste away and die somewhere in a ditch, or I can do something useful with what I have left. Something meaningful. But…” he dragged out, nonchalantly wrapping his tail around his front paws, “if you happen to feel slightly indebted, you can promise me this. When I return for my next life - and I will, nine lives and all that - give me a warm bed, good food and all the things that make a cat happy. It would make my departure much easier, knowing I have a good home waiting for me.” 

Eddie decided to break even more unwritten rules and lifted Dart into his arms, hugging him. “Of course. Shit, you don’t even have to ask, I’d do that even without you doing…well. This for me.” 

Dustin once told Steve that cats couldn’t smile, science said so. Still, what was on Dart’s face was definitely a smile. “I know you would, Eddie. This will be the only sentimental thing I ever say, but…I wouldn’t do this just for anyone. So be safe and make good choices before I come back to watch over you.” 

“I will.”

“Good. Now let me down so I don’t spend the rest of my life exchanging pleasantries.” 

As he walked with his fading feline grace towards Murray, Dart looked back at them one final time. “Oh, and a word of warning. If you get me a collar with one of those annoying bells, I’ll scratch you where the sun doesn’t shine. Yes, that will make for good last words. I’m ready now.” 

Steve put his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, pulling him close. “See you soon, Dart. Don’t keep us waiting.” 

Feeling Eddie’s skin turn warm again was one of the most joyful moments in Steve’s life. Kissing him properly for the first time on warm lips, through tears, mumbled confessions and shared breath, that was definitely on the list as well. Going house shopping with Eddie with the massive payout from the Carver family - yes, a permanent restraining order was a part of that deal - and seeing Eddie’s excitement (“It has air conditioning, Steve! And a proper shower! Fuck, I feel so rich!”)? That one too. 

But there was yet another moment that competed for the number one spot of instances where Steve’s heart could burst from happiness. 

It was the same day when they ruined Nancy’s wedding. Chief Hopper forced Eddie to go to a hospital for a quick check-up. “You were dead, young man,” he said and his tone allowed for no counterargument. “You’re not dying again on my watch.” 

Eddie was lying in the hospital bed, bitching and moaning about the food, the smell, the feel of the sterile sheets, the atrocious hospital gown. “Imagine this. You die. You don’t eat for a year or something. And the first food your newly resurrected tongue tastes is a hospital meatloaf. Is that the justice I deserve?! I say no!” 

Steve was way too happy to argue against his boyfriend’s misery. He just assured him that the second he got discharged, they would get dinner, his treat. They were listing all of the restaurants in Hawkins and discussing the pros and cons of each one. The meatloaf didn’t count, said Eddie, and Steve had to agree. Eddie’s first meal of his new life had to be perfect. 

There was a knock on the door. 

“Come in!” 

A nurse opened the door and announced that Eddie had a visitor. Steve knew who it was even before she could utter the name. After all, he’d snuck out to use the hospital phone the second he could. And now? He just watched with a smile so wide it hurt his cheeks how Eddie’s face lit up. He committed it all to memory; Eddie’s shaky breath, his hand - ringless for once, doctor’s orders - over his mouth in disbelief. “No way.” 

He saw a flash of flannel in the doorway. A gruff voice said: “I need no introduction, thank you, now let me see my nephew!”

Eddie suddenly didn’t mind being seen in that ugly hospital gown. He jumped out of the bed, much to the displeasure of all the machines checking his vitals, and flung himself at the older man, his words too fast and interlaced with sobs to understand. 

Wayne Munson dropped his bag and pulled Eddie into a crushing hug. 

“My boy.” 

Final chapter here

[alicepao13]

So. The 7th episode of Hudson and Rex after a long and fully undeserved hiatus. First of all, good episode. Even if the plot is ridiculous and overdone in other crime shows, and the concept “Russian spy in St. John’s” is kinda laughable. But hey, I’ve heard more improbable stories in the news lately, so who am I to judge what’s realistic anymore?

How many English speaking people would be able to differentiate a French accent from an Eastern European accent in three words? Just wondering.

I don’t usually laugh in this show (not where I’m supposed to, anyway) but Jesse’s deadpan delivery of "Is it interesting?" was spot on.

Absolutely thought the boyfriend would have somehow ended up being tied to the murder. That didn’t happen. Then I thought the professor would have something to do with it. Didn’t happen either. Either I’m broken or they finally wrote a good script.

Charlie speaking out loud his findings as he searched the victim's library. It's probably for Rex who can't read lol

"I'm not a caveperson". Nope, it's still caveman, you can have this one, boys.

A Canadian getting banned from entering the US for violence? That’s truly a bad guy.

I did not understand anything about oil rigging in the Arctic. Nor do I want to. You guys can keep your Canadian secrets.

It happens in every show. If it's a cop show, we hate the feds. If it's a show about feds, the cops are morons.

How come I've watched so many shows referencing Russian spies and I don't remember Novichok nerve agents being mentioned by that name?

The moment Sarah gave Charlie the antidote that was pretty much where my hopes for a ride to the hospital were dashed. Like, come on, man, let me live a little.

Joe was rightfully pissed about getting stonewalled, although I don't think this case would have been necessarily solved faster if CSIS shared their intel.

Ah, Trina. That must have been her on the phone. It's nice to see they kept in contact.

Charlie’s house??? On my screen???

Charlie and Sarah in Charlie’s house??? On my screen???

Charlie knows the story of Sarah’s family. That’s cute.

Some mentions of Sarah’s family this season. I’m getting my hopes up.

*Charlie and Sarah about to kiss* Rex: Oh shit they’re gonna fuck again. *runs away* Charlie truly meant it when he said that Rex knows to make himself scarce.

“CSIS Safehouse” in large, Arial font letters. Oh boy, I’d like to see the audience screening that warranted that. (People are dumb. I know.)

So the first three letters of CSIS are for Canadian Security Idiot :P

Rex with the syringe in his mouth: Anyone with thumbs around?

Of course Charlie would inject himself with the antidote as he was dying like we’re in some Die Hard movie (I’ve never actually seen them). This was like 5% of the whump I was hoping for.

And then he gets up and stumbles a little and that’s it? How is it that difficult to write some whump? Arrest him and then pass out!

I liked that they finally managed to set up something comedic in the first arc and finished it in the last scene, with Jesse’s interpretation of what every other character’s reactions meant. I agree with them, by the way, Austin Powers is a bad choice, Jesse.

Also, Rex would make a fine ballerina apparently. Charlie secretly agrees.

It was a good episode, I don’t feel let down. As I’ve said before, it’s hard to have that promo hanging out there for 3.5 months and have the episode live up to the expectations. But it had the team working as a team again, Charlie’s house came back from the war, there were cute Charah moments again, there was team banter and funny scenes and Rex saved Charlie's life a bunch lol. I’m not sure what they were trying to do with the first couple of episodes. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

The next episode is promising me whump again. I refuse to get my hopes up again but at least it will be only a week until then. Sadly, it seems like Rex is inside the prison. Like, what the fuck. That alone would be a major red flag for any inmate, they wouldn’t even need to know he’s a cop. Although if Charlie ends up getting beaten to protect him, I’ll forgive them for that and for that atrocious undercover hairstyle. However, it truly was an opportunity to see them working separately.

I love that they mention that Charlie has arrested so many guys in there. Maybe it would work if Charlie slicked his hair back… and Rex turned into a cat.

[sapphire-weapon]

You're right, they were insane, because RE2make Leon was perfect. He so brilliantly embodied American White Guy that has no fucking idea how hard life gets. He just doesn't get it. He went head on into danger, because I don't think he fully understood/comprehended exactly what he was getting into at the start. It's why he so stupidly went along with Ada (yes, I know he SAID he didn't trust her... but like... he definitely had a moment of "wow, she's attractive and claims to be a superior, so I'm desperate for her approval and will accept the kiss", like a total boyish moron). Which is exactly what he was meant to be. It was an excellent (and devastating) lead up to where he is in RE4make.

It's like I said before, I don't understand how people think the mafia backstory is canon considering how much of a sheltered, naive dipshit Leon is in RE2.

RE2make had the opportunity to go back and make him harder earlier on in order to be more in line with said backstory, but they actually went and made him softer. He VERY MUCH comes off as someone who's intellectually aware that people are dishonest and not everyone always has his best interest in mind, but he hasn't yet lived it, so he doesn't know if he should trust his gut or not.

That's why he goes along with Ada, even if he doesn't fully trust her. He wants to trust her. His sheltered upbringing makes him feel like he should, because he's never had a reason to truly question authority -- let alone an authority as high up and official as the FBI.

And as the night goes on, and he doesn't get any overt red flags from her -- just subtle ones here and there that he could wave away as "reading too much into it" -- he's able to more easily buy into the narrative, because he just wants it to be true so badly.

So, when she kisses him, because he's clung so tightly to this delusion he's built up around her, his mind blanks out. Leon knows intellectually that an FBI agent would never, ever make a move like that. But he's too deep in there now to pull back and call bullshit now.

Not only that, but Ada is probably the hottest woman who's ever been even remotely interested in him -- much less to the point of kissing him. Again, because he's had a sheltered, uneventful, bland life up until this point. He lacks life experience, and he seems to also lack any real sexual experience, so what's a guy like him to do other than lean into it and let himself get lost in the fantasy?

But when Annette tells him the truth, what really happens there is that she digs up all of those tiny little doubts and shines a light on all of the little things about Ada that just felt Wrong somehow, and she validates his suspicions. And suddenly, he can't lie to himself anymore. Because now, it's not just his inexperienced self not knowing when or how to make a judgement call. Now, someone else has seen it, too. It's not just in his head.

There's no way that a child from a mafia family would be able to buy so thoroughly into Ada's FBI narrative. The FBI would have literally never been his friends. Even if he was adopted by a cop, cops have issues with feds, too. Mafia parents + local LEO foster dad = FUCK NO I DON'T TRUST THE FBI ARE YOU KIDDING

It just doesn't make any sense. I don't understand how someone can look at his inexperienced, sheltered, naive ass and genuinely think he's had a hard life up until this point. RE2make Leon has no street smarts, no practical wisdom to draw on at all.

That's the point of his character arc.

To buy into the mafia backstory means erasing the purpose/efficacy of his arc and literally why would you ever want that, as a fan of the character?

[nikatyler]

Zeph 1.0

can't believe that yesterday i was like eh i'm not sure about that armor, it looks so good on them

(x)

oooh a pretty evil lady!

(x)

same girl, same, about everything that has ever happened to me

(x)

it's been 84 years (more like 16 hours) but i'm finally opening bg3 again ✨

i think i'll do some more goblin camp shenanigans today if possible 👀

ohhh right. essentially i've already murdered like half the goblin camp so now the other half of the camp is trying to murder me, huh?

Me: "ah yes I'm far enough" *the explosion hits Zeph and Zeph dies* *reloads* "ah yes now I'm definitely far enough" *the explosion hits Zeph again and Zeph dies again*

"yeah we've got this" *the entire party dies*

Fucking gnolls man

yeah it's been a long bloody day

HELLO SAY THAT AGAIN

hUH

jesus christ this man is h🫣rny

Okay so I'll go watch a baking show with my mum in a bit and then we're going back and doing da thing 😏

Sorry for not giving updates if you were looking forward to them, anyway a little thing I love is how everyone sleeps on their back. I do that and apparently that's weird to everyone around me? 😂🤨

I will literally be in my bed like 🧍‍♂️

(x)

newest development in my bg3-rotten brain

did i mention this game is doing things to me because it is doing things to me

(x)

Anywayyyy you know what time it is 😌

I may have just spent an hour organizing everyone's inventories and figuring out who gets what armor and all but we're good to go now I think

Explosive shrooms, yay 🤩

(x)

I'm 💀💀💀 I need to go to bed lmao

Okay so basically what happened um. I don't know how but it did. So I wanted to help Astarion. But I clicked the wrong thing. And I pushed him off the boat. And he died.

I RELOADED BUT HOW DID I EVEN DO THAT 😭😭

If there's one thing about me it's that I'll accidentally murder my favourite vampires

(x)

I love Zeph so much they're so prettyyyyyy

Kinda wanna make a modern day version of them in ts4 and have them interact with my other characters. They'd fit right in

(x)

hole hehe. hole

(x)

my bi ass is having a bit of a dilemma rn

(x)

gay gay gay they're in love your honor

HELL YEAH KISS

(x)

Raw footage of me during my latest combat

I was actually so stressed dude 😭 thankfully we made it through but ahhhhh

Does anyone else apologize to the characters when they get hurt? Like sorry lil guy in my computer I'm sorry I'm putting you through this I promise you'll make it out I PROMISE ah fuck you're getting hit again oh no sorry sorry ahhhh

So uh. The adamantine forge fight huh. 🙂

(x)

Granted it doesn't count ts4 correctly rn probably because I haven't updated yet but…yeah 😅😅

(also I have way more hours on ts4 actually, this is just since Jan 2023, I played through Origin/EA app before and then switched to Steam for reasons)

(x)

my fucking thoughts exactly, i hate this battle 😭😭 on a real note i relate to him so much when he's whining DUDE WE LIVE

i should've known he wouldn't take that as a good thing lmaoooooo dude creases when you smile is the biggest compliment smh

FREN!!!

(x)

oops

(x)

I'm sorry what

(x)

pwettyyyyy

(x)

I'm sensing that I may have messed up real bad in Last Light Inn yesterday...ooops

I should've reloaded to see if things could turn out differently but I've done a lot afterwards, idk if I wanna go back now 😂 No spoilers pls, that's something for me to figure out in my next playthrough

"ooops" people DIED 💀 people i had previously saved died 💀

(x)

You're never gonna believe who I murdered again

(x)

I'm fucking crying I need you to resurrect him you moron stop shaming Zeph for having a sex life Update we are so back lads

(x)

Funny how fast I went from "I think Zeph is mostly good, they just want to get rid of the parasite and help people along the way" to "actually fuck it darling you're so right some power would be nice"

(x)

Crying laughing sending this to my sibling who's in art school. On point

(x)

"eh we'll be fine i don't need bonuses" *rolls 1*

(x)

daddy Ketheric omg💀💀

(x)

uh anyway

(x)

this is the best they are the best 🥹

(x)

Don't be upset, I will reload, just don't be upset with me pleaseeee 😭

The "please a videogame vampire at all costs" disease is real I'm afraid

(x)

Uh oh it's almost 3am, tomorrow will be an eepy day, well it's worth it

(x)

I'm so close to having a funny number of hours played 🤭

(x)

Killed the workout, now let's kill this guy that I struggled with for half an hour. Almost killed my whole party in the process so I quit and decided to kill my legs instead 😂

(x)

[the-character-lounge]

Sing with me kiddo! Chin up~ Chin up~ Put a little laughter in your eyes! Brave it~ Save it~ Even though you're feeling otherwise! Pahahahahahaa! Isn't singing fun!~

Spinel has a PTSD panic attack

Randy kissed his cheek and giggled. “Al- Alright alright.. I w- won’t be all sm- smoozy with y- you… a- at least not for n- now.” He took one final sip of his coffee and placed the bits for all three cups down on the table before getting up. “W- Well, I figure w- we’ll have a couple hours t- to kill before listening i- in on the meeting. L- Let’s go back t- to your place and celebrate! I- I have a little s- something I’ve been w- wanting to give you!” He headed for the door, a light, confident bounce in his step.

"Uh, yes sir--" Spinel blurted timidly, then covered his mouth and froze a moment. He breathed, then shook it off and quickly followed after the ram, feeling disgusted with himself for that. Once outside he quickly forced himself back in to arrogance, tail flicking slightly. He still wasn't feeling all too well but feigned confidence and pride, forgetting the flower would be showing the immense discomfort that kept lingering and wrapping around all his thoughts. Even the good ones like feeling flattered started to trail back to Uncle Candy, and he was honestly just glad to be getting far away from that near lookalike for the time.

Randy blushed upon being called ‘sir,’ but pretended not to hear him. As they walked, he looked over at him, watching the flower’s colors share his true feelings. He looked curiously at Spinel, then back forward. “… wh- why are y- you feeling so e- embarrassed?” he asked, still looking forward with the phantom of a smile on his lips. “Ar- Aren’t you gl- glad I think you’re more th- than just a pretty f- face?” he chuckled and softly nudged him with his rump.

He glanced over with a flat and uninterested stare, head held high. "Of course I am but I don't see why you were so surprised at my 'genius'." He snorted and looked away a bit. "Seemed like the obvious thing to do." He shook a hoof off a little as he walked, "Ugh I touched him..."

He rolled his eyes and gave his neck a little lick. "Oh c- come on be n- nice. He is helping us.. Even if he doesn't know it." He smiled as they walk, stealing a few licks and kisses every now and then. He couldn't help being so affectionate, even thought the 'act' was over. He realized Spinel would probably get all grumpy at him eventually, so after on last shoulder kiss, he focused on walking instead of praising him silently with little affectionate gestures.

"Yeah well if he doesn't know, that just makes it more risky because he's a fucking idiot, Randy. An easily pushed around blabbermouth." The kisses and licks were a little flustering but they kept him able to continue feigning his confidence. But on the inside it felt like he was swimming in disgusting oatmeal smelling tar while he was gasping for whatever emotions he could to keep himself looking 'fine' otherwise.

Randy frowned a bit. "Hey.. Th- the poor guy doesn't know an- any better. I- If anything, he'd be j- just as horrified as a- any pony else who found out C- Candy was the s- sick bastard we kn- know him as." He looked at him with a hint of concern. The flower was now a raging storm of colors, most of which were colors that meant he was brooding about something. When they reached a street corner, he tried to wave a taxi down. As they waited, he looked at Spinel with a timid, worried look. ".. S- Something on y- your mind?"

"Oh don't start feeling sorry for him, he's what, in his 20s? And if he still doesn't know he's probably delivering drugs and fuck tokens to sick assholes who are using them on Celestia knows what then I hate to break your bubble, he's just a really big moron." He frowned, looking off. He felt a wave of sickness come over him suddenly but gulped it back, shuddering. And then he broke in to a pace at the question, snorting a few times through his nostrils. "I hate him. I hate him. I hate him more than any pony could ever understand. I fucking hate him. And I-" he made a dry heaving sound a moment, "I talked like him I-- I--"

Randy quickly trotted after him and circled around to stop him from going any further. "W- Woah woah e- easy..." He looked at Spinel, the concern on his face growing. "Th- That wasn't C- Candy you know... It was his brother. His naive br- brother who isn't purposefully t- trying to hurt any pony..." He gently put his hooves on Spinel's chest. "I kn- know that they m- must look similar... B- But they definitely aren't the same pony." He gently rubbed his chest and continued to stare at him with a worried look. "... L- Lets get a taxi and get y- you in a bath... Okay?"

"You don't know that...!" he said suddenly in a highly distressed voice, "I mean he has a fucking dog as a fiance so who the hell knows what things he's not saying...! For all we know that whole family could be secretly fucked up. We. Don't. Know." He wanted to start pacing again, but Randy was keeping him there so instead his two front legs continued to lift and fall. "Why couldn't it just be Candy? Why couldn't it just be that simple?!" He didn't know how to express why this was so distressing. The thought alone distressed him even further, because a moment he considered Sugar like a relative of his own only because he still felt-- He made another dry heave and began shaking, eyes losing clarity.

Randy watched him become reduced to a scared, anxious heap and he pulled him into a small hug. "H- Hey hey.. I- It's alright...."'he whispered. "... L- Look, now th- that S- Sugar's been bugged, we'll be able t- to find out if th- that's true.. If Sugar is m- messed up like his br- brother. B- But we c- can't let that worry us now. A- And even if h- he is.. It doesn't really m- matter does it? Wh- What matters is that we kick that b- bastard t- to the curb." He waved a taxi down, and helped Spinel inside. "L- Let's just... be pr- proud that we've scored an- another little victory over that stupid f- fucker whose fault th- this all really is.. Okay?" He softly rubbed his shoulder.

He nodded, keeping quiet as he sat down in the taxi. He leaned on Randy, eyes still not all there as one hoof snaked around blindly until it could find his hoof which was then squeezed tightly. Every passing moment he kept hearing more and more of that voice and laughter in his head, and as it grew in to a roaring hurricane in his mind it seemed to manifest suddenly in to something worse. He actually cried out, flinching badly as he quickly hid his face to Randy's neck.

Randy squeezed his hoof back softly, and gently nuzzles the top of his head. ".. Y- You're gonna b- be okay," he said in a soft voice. "I- I'm here, I- I'll protect y- you..." He softly shushed him, and continued to squeeze his hoof. "H- He won't hurt you a- again... N- Not as l- long as I'm h- here... Shhhh shh shh..." He pressed his lips to his forehead and reached around with his other hoof, pulling Spinel into a hug.

"He didn't-...." he choked out and trailed off, clinging on to the ram and not caring if they were in a taxi. Not until the taxi pony impatiently tried to check in with them to ask where they wanted to go, which was promptly greeted with a VERY angry Spinel who was yelling at the top of his voice at the driver, "Just shut the FUCK UP and drive your ass to Polished Dreams and MIND YOUR OWN FUCKING BUSINESS ASSHOLE!"

Randy softly pulled him back into the hug, and looked at the driver, afraid he'd kick them out. "Pl.. Please... Just drive o- okay? I'll d- double the f- fare if you c- can get us there in l- less than five...." He returned his attention on Spinel, and let go of his hoof so he could full on hug him, stroking his back and softly rocking him. A few bars at a time, he hummed their lullaby, still rubbing his back, and pressing his cheek to the side of his neck.

Spinel was trembling between rage and disgust. At first, the hugging didn't seem to help. It just made that horrible sick feeling worse and he could swear he was drowning helplessly in completely different arms at the time, but even still clinging. The humming was the only thing that made him realize this wasn't true, and he began to gulp in air and let it out heavily, slower and slower until his breathing was finally able to settle. He spoke weakly, "I... tried... I couldn't do it... I tried..."

He didn't know what Spinel meant by that, and he kept rocking him softly. ".. All th- that matters i- is that you tr- tried your best.." He softly kissed his forehead once, before keeping him in a tight embrace. The taxi pulled up in front of the store, and he softly loosened up the hug. "W- We're here," he whispered softly.

Spinel nodded, gulping heavily and breathing in deep one more time as he let his features melt in to indifference as he walked out. Of course inside he was still seething, but he didn't want other ponies seeing him like this. Thinking that, it surprised him, because he realized he had one exception where he once had none. He glanced at Randy for a long time before he started to walk to the side elevator.

Randy paid the taxi nearly triple instead of double, as an added tip. "Th- Thank you," he said as he followed Spinel to the elevator. Randy softly leaned on him as they waited, his hoof blindly searching for and grabbing hold of Spinel's hoof. He gave it a small squeeze, and stepped into the elevator with him when it arrived. He kept holding his hoof all the way to the suite floor, and even when they reached the door.

Spinel kept eerily silent and stoic the whole way, slowly walking to the suite and not even giving the guard so much as a glance as he let the two of them inside. The moment the door shut though, he collapsed to the floor and started hitting his free hoof on it over and over in anger and pain, biting back tears and making strained noises. He hated this. He completely hated this. He was being so weak and such a huge disappointment and all after he made such a big effort to do a good job. Randy taking care of him like this was so humiliating and even moreso because he was clinging to him for it.

Randy sat on the floor next to him, and softly rubbed his back with his free hoof. "... You d- did good today," he said softly, once Spinel had stopped hitting the floor. ".. Y- You should b- be proud." He let go of Spinel's hoof so he could wrap his foreleg around his shoulder. ".. I- I am... Pr- proud of y- you that is." He hugged Spinel from the side and stared at him. "... Y- You want me to g- go draw up a b- bath? ... M- Maybe order us some o- of that ch- chow mien too?" He asked with a soft, calming voice. "O- Or I c- can maybe dr- drop by the c- cake store Wh- while you take your b- bath... P- pick s- something up for y- you..."

"Bath..." he nodded, unable to get many words out. He took some heavy shaking breaths, "Not...not hungry... Don't go..." He managed to pull himself up so he could stand again, staring at the floor. He started laughing suddenly.

He got up also, and softly stroked his shoulder. "... I- I'll go get it st- started..." He said in a hushed voice, looking concerned about the sudden outburst of laughter. He went to the bathroom and began drawing water from the faucet, testing it and letting it run so it could get nice and warm before he plugged the tub. After that he stayed knelt by the tubside, just staring at the water and playing with it quietly.

He continued to laugh for a while, nodding again and again at Randy's voice. He had no control of himself. It was horrifying and suffocating and he just wanted things to be normal. He took off what he was wearing and tossed it on a couch, looking around at the suite that now looked strange to him. He let his eyes wander over every detail, re-familiarizing himself with it, reminding himself that all of this belonged to him. That he earned it. That he wasn't what he once had been, that he was far better than anything Candy could have made him. And on top of that, he was the one to tear down Osiris. He already won. This was just stomping out the last cinder. Easy. Easy. He finally found his comfort and went to the bath, taking the flower and putting it on the sink counter. He nuzzled his nose to Randy's mane and took in his scent a moment before stepping in to the tub and sitting. He stared at Randy timidly for a while in silence, then cracked a smile. "Grab me a bath bomb...?"

Randy nodded, a complacent look on his face. "Wh- Where are they?" he asked, his hoof still playing with the water. The laughter had really.. Offset him.

He pointed, "The gold basket behind you, just toss one in, any kind. Not the pink one though, that's uh... That kind that I use..." he cleared his throat and looked away a moment. He looked back, smile getting a little wider, but somehow more broken. "I'm going to be okay."

[livlepretre]

I love Bekelena and it’s a damn shame it never happened in the show. I have to be honest with you, I’m not a big fan of the TVD series. I only enjoyed the first 2 seasons. I actually like the books better, although some people may want to fight me on that😅.

My analysis:

Prior to chapter 63, after the way Rebekah has been treating Elena, she should just dump her and move on. But it’s not as simple as that. Elena loves Rebekah and will be forever grateful to her for sticking up for her at the manor and bringing her back into the outside world. And she went 3 years without love, affection, and attention. So when she falls in love with Rebekah, she gets all those things but it doesn’t come without a price. Elena doesn’t want to be a vampire but Rebekah wants her to become one so they can be together forever. So her not agreeing to that is basically her saying “I don’t want to be with you forever” and we all know that when Rebekah gets hurt or angry, it’s never a positive thing, especially for the one she loves. So like the typical undead teenager she is, she lashes out in hurtful ways by doing (well we don’t know for sure do we😉) thing that would force Elena to doubt her relationship. And that’s the last thing she wants, since it’s practically all she has left. It’s a very cruel thing to do since she knows how it makes Elena feel. Well Elena couldn’t leave but she could call it quits with Rebekah. But even though she should since she hasn’t been treating her right, she doesn’t actually want to because she said it herself in chapter 63, she won’t give up the only love she has. And in chapter 50 when Elena and Klaus were on the rooftop and he basically told her she’s not as beautiful as she used to be which we all know was just Klaus being horrible and malicious. I believe that she may have internalized that since she is 3 years older than the last time she saw him while he hasn’t aged a day. And she even said to Elijah that she knows her face isn’t what it was. Obviously, Elena can have anyone she wants but she doesn’t feel like she can because she thinks she lost her magic looks. Also I just have to say Klaus is a fucking moron, how can you tell her she’s not as beautiful as she used to be, but you’ll make out with her TWICE??!! Seriously dude grow the fuck up. 🙄 So even if Rebekah did cheat on her with Stefan (which would be a really fucked up thing to do since this is the girl you claim to love), I don’t believe Elena would automatically say “ok we’re done”. She would be angry obviously and maybe she would break up with her (and that would be really awkward since they live together), she wouldn’t want to give up what could be her only chance at true happiness even if it hurts which it shouldn’t. I can imagine her saying “Well, I made out with your brother so we’re even.” Rebekah has been in a sexual relationship with her brother for who knows how long and she fell in love with a guy only to have to share him with said brother. She probably doesn’t really know what cheating really means. Even though she kind of experienced it when Stefan kissed Elena twice at the manor they were all living at first. She knows that it hurts and it makes a person angry. Elena is most likely her only stable romantic relationship. And she’s doing a pretty good job of wrecking it all over the fact that Elena doesn’t want to do what she wants. And you said in a post that weeks have passed since chapter 63, so that little drama queen Klaus kept them apart for weeks. He knows the damage that Elena’s isolation did to her and yet he’s still twisting the knife!

This story depresses me, angers me, saddens me, puzzles me, and kills me.

BREATHTAKING

YOU ARE A GOD

Absolutely unreal how dead on this analysis is.

I'm actually extremely emotional that you put the time in to analyze this fic like this and then to write it all out for me 💖💖💖💖💖💖 thank you for sharing, this is like a perfect thesis on exactly what is up with Elena and Rebekah

[spiced-koi-friend]

Name Calling

Quinacridone, or "Q" tries to get to Bettel through the one way way he knows how, and tests Obsidian's patience when he doesn't get his way.

Previous Chapter

Obsidian, Quinacridone, Gavis Bettel, & Banzoin Hakka

TW: suggestive flirting, mentions of injuries Words: 1158 | Rating: M

Obsidian startles as a pair of legs replaces the paperwork he was doing. He glares up, locking eyes with Q who just gives a flirty grin.

“Hiya big boy~”

Q leans forward, enjoying how Obsidian bares his teeth as he teases his nails along his jaw. 

“Get. Off. My. Desk.”

“Aww, but I’ve been a good boy!”

Q hops down, yelping at the smack to his ass as he walks away and Obsidian resumes his work.

“Handsy~”

“What do you want?”

“I’m bored, and Betty-boy isn’t answering my texts.”

“Did you send anything concerning?”

“Well no, but how am I supposed to guarantee that my prophecies will come true if we don’t know where he is?”

“Just do what those bullshit horoscope websites do and make it vague. His paranoia will make it a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“They’re not bullshit! In fact, my horoscope this morning said that you were a bitch!”

“Watch your mouth, brat.”

“Ooooooh~!! Feisty. Well, I gotta go make a little prophecy for our little jester. Love you~!”

He waves as he exits the room, blowing a kiss to Obsidian who only groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Why do I even bother keeping him around…”

… 

Bettel receives a ping on his phone, looking down in alarm at his texts. Hakka raises an eyebrow, peeking over Bettel’s elbow.

“What?”

“My oracle just told me that I’m gonna die soon! Oh gods, I’m doomed…”

“You’re not doomed! Plus, how the fuck would a text oracle know that?”

“I don’t know! All I know is that they’ve been right so far!”

“Uh-huh…”

Hakka takes Bettel’s phone, scrolling through the messages.

“Bettel, you do realize these predictions are meant to be generic daily texts that you’re not supposed to respond to, right?”

“Really? That makes a bit more sense as to why I didn’t get responses early on…”

“Why do you even get daily text predictions anyways? Are you paying for this shit?”

“Me? No. I got this prophecy thing from a sketchy guy in a cloak at a carnival this one time and with each like, crystal ball scrying thing you got a free subscription to daily prophecies or something. I just had to give my phone number.”

Hakka just looks at Bettel in disbelief, pausing with his scrolling. 

“I don’t know if that’s legal, but like, dude. So many of these are just them saying you’re gonna get hurt.”

“And I did! They’re accurate!”

“This one just says you’ll get stabbed unexpectedly.”

“Which time is that- OH YEAH THE MOSQUITO BITE.”

Hakka looks, so done with this conversation already. 

“I don’t know why you need this clarified, but a mosquito bite does not count as getting stabbed.”

“Well it’s like, it stabs you.”

“Not the same thing. Not even remotely.”

He continues scrolling through the texts, making many faces.

“This one says that you’re going to fall from grace, and then you replied that you tripped on a rock. Not what that means.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, man. I get the text, and it fulfills itself.”

“I think you’re a moron.”

“I mean, that’s probably true, but HEY.”

Hakka hands back Bettel’s phone, shaking his head.

“If you don’t want this stuff to start eating away at you and make your anxiety worse, you should probably block them.”

“It’s not their fault they get words of wisdom from the gods!”

“But they don’t. These are just them cycling through the same five prophecies for you. They probably roll a die every morning to see which one they’re gonna haunt you with.”

“You know how clumsy I am! Plus, for all you know, the gods themselves could be controlling that die.”

“I give up.”

Hakka throws up his hands in surrender, walking to the kitchen to make himself something. Bettel has now gotten all his new clothes clean and has been lounging about in a shirt that says “men fear fish, women want fish, me am fish” and sweats all day. He texts back his oracle, saying “no thanks” and setting his phone down.

“So explain to me again why getting bit by a mosquito doesn’t count as being stabbed?”

“BETTEL PLEASE-”

…

“OBSIDIANNNNNNNNNN-!!”

He jumps in his seat, nearly knocking his stuff off his desk. Q nearly breaks down the door, looking upset.

“May I remind you that it is traditionally considered far more polite to knock?”

“Betty-boy didn’t like my prophecy!”

“And you’re… pouting?”

Q walks inside, dragging his feet before collapsing dramatically in one of the leather chairs across from Obsidian’s desk. The back of his hand is pressed against his forehead as his body is draped across the arms of the chair.

“It’s just not fair! What is an oracle to do when his best customer rejects him? I’ve been wounded!”

“Don’t sit in that chair like that, you’ll crease the leather.”

Q sits up, directing his pout towards Obsidian.

“You don’t even care!”

“Why should I? You loudly barged into my office to throw a tantrum.”

“You’re supposed to make it all better! Tell me I’m a good boy, or something!”

“I don’t wish to lie to you right now, but I will keep that in mind for next time you’re good. If that ever happens.”

Q clutches his chest with a dramatic gasp, looking hurt.

“Obbie! Don’t say things like that!”

“That’s not my name, Lachlan.”

“Ew, don’t call me that.”

Obsidian smirks, knowing he’s gotten his point across with his melodramatic oracle.

“Are you done?”

“...no…”

He leans back in his seat with his arms crossed, still grouchy about not getting his way. Obsidian takes a small amount of delight in seeing him finally so quiet, resuming his work. Q just scrolls on his phone, to which Obsidian feels a buzz in his back pocket eventually. He takes just a moment to glance at his screen to see it’s from Q, before putting it on do not disturb and going back to writing. The oracle gets impatient with his lack of attention, going back to sitting in the chair the other way, like a child acting out.

“I told you not to sit like that.”

“And what are you going to do about it?”

Obsidian raises an eyebrow, not even lifting his head to look at Q.

“What you’re trying is not going to work. Sit properly or I’ll have you escorted out.”

“Make me.”

“Try again.”

“No!”

Obsidian slams his fist on his desk and gets up, to which Q just grins widely. He picks up his mystic by the front of his robe, holding him at the same height so they see eye to eye. Q’s eyes are just filled with lust, grabbing onto Obsidian’s wrist to help hold himself up.

“Hi~”

“Going to explain yourself, brat?”

“Nope!”

Obsidian growls, shoving Q towards the desk and pinning his head down.

“Then perhaps a little persuasion will get it out of you.”

[lovey-dovey-dulcie]

Official-ish introduction!

Waaah hellooooo. This is @dulciedeleche's selfship blog! This blog may or may not be more active than my main lol we'll see

I don't have a lot of things to say so I shall list off my f/os. Iiiii don't really have a way to use emojis and I can't really think of any unique tag names so these f/o tags aren't gonna be too fancy oops

Also unless stated otherwise, I am 100% okay with sharing them! If you aren't, though, feel free to block. I won't hold it against you ^^ /gen

Also once again proshit/comshit DNI

f/os under the cut

Main f/os:

P.izze.lle (S.uga.ry S.pire)

My. darling. wife. And my bi awakening lol. She's my newest f/o but currently at the top bc I'm fixated on her the most and I'm incredibly head over heels. She's gone through a lot, which makes sense considering her source material isn't finished yet, but I still love her all the same and I can't wait for her game to be finished! I will be so normal (I will not be normal)

O.cta.vo (C.aden.ce of H.yru.le)

Bard hubby bard hubby. A fucking moron but he's my fucking moron. What makes him so much better is that he shares his VA with an M.L.P character. I honestly love this smug purple bitch so much

A.sto.r (Ag.e of C.alami.ty)

I hate this man. I'm kissing him on his stupid pasty-ass lips. I'm throwing him in a ditch. I love him. It's WEIRDDDD he has quite the lack of a developed character arc and he is far from someone who fits my cutesy aesthetic/tastes or whatever but I just. think he's hot, alright? Have you HEARD his voice?? Duuuuude. I also think it's funny to selfship with him bc of goth bf and girly girl gf. We ARE personifications of a Hot Topic next to Claire's

Sub f/os (is that the right term to use for f/os I don't think about as much?? Eh whatever):

P.epp.ino (P.izz.a T.owe.r)

Yep, I'm part of the crowd that saw him upon release and wanted his hand in marriage. I too wish to love, cherish and comfort this man. I also have a unique sona for him named Cece. I'll probably show her off at some point soon lol

V.ikto.r (A.rcan.e)

A friend of mine got me into this show a couple years back. I haven't actually. watched it yet, ahaha, but this guy is her favorite character and he's mine now too. He's a cutie, what can I say?

Crushes:

Mr. O.rang.e (P.izz.a T.owe.r) (rightmost image)

I'm not sure how or why I have the hots for him, but something about him is very adorable to me and he is MERELY just a concept character

The N.ois.e (P.izz.a T.owe.r)

Yeah not NEARLY to the extent of everyone else here, partly bc he already has his canon gf, but. he's smoochable to me okay. And also just a silly guy. I love his campaign. I might just have a thing for the gremlins tbh ajfhgajfhghjfskaf

BONUS: Queerplatonic partner:

R.ose.tte (S.uga.ry S.pire)

P.izz.y has two hands. We're both in a qpr with her and we love her :>

Friends and family:

P.unc.hy (A.nim.al C.rossi.ng) (son)

D.obie (A.nim.al C.rossi.ng) (grandpa)

C.aden.ce (C.ryp.t of the N.ecro.Danc.er) (friend/sister figure)

P.inki.e P.ie (M.L.P) (best friend)

F.lutte.rsh.y (M.L.P) (best friend)

S.tarl.ight G.limm.er (M.L.P) (best friend)

And so there you have it :P