#i busted the wrong guy out of jail sends me every time

[markleesthighs]

Can you make a part 2 for “Forbidden Moonlight”? I’d like to see some gun fighting, some car chasing, some actual mafia jaemin action with the “I would die and I would kill for you!” kinda spirit? I mean the one who requested it has great theme ideas, it is definitely chef’s kiss and I don’t think it should be left off in just 1 part. We gotta know what the ambassador offered to jaemin.

-i'm on a break, so i finally got a chance to write it! I Sorry requests have been taking long, haven't gotten a chance to write in a while. I hope you all enjoy!

read part 1 here

You missed school for the rest of the day. You didn't even have a chance to explain your situation to Jaemin, feeling guilty. In your limo ride home your dad kept scolding and yelling to you about Jaemin. He went on and on about how stupid you were. To be fair, you had no idea Jaemin was associated with the mafia as well as your dad so you brushed off his comments. When you arrived home you didn't bother to talk to your parents as you stormed up to your room.

"There you are, m/n."

"JAE-"

Jaemin rushed to shut your mouth with his hand.

"How did you know where I was?"

"I have a tracker on your phone." "You psycho."

"But you love this psycho."

"What are you doing here?"

"I thought since you've had a pretty shitty day that you'd want to come with me to a drag racing competition."

"Jaemin, you know I'd love to but my parents-"

"God, have you never snuck out before? Just do the thing in the movies where you use pillows to make it seem like you're in bed sleeping."

"Fine."

You piled up your pillows and covered them with a blanket and added a wig to really sell it.

"Let's go."

Jaemin climbed down the lattice below your window that had vines growing on it. You rolled your eyes figuring that's how he got up here. You also saw the busted circuit breaker box, showing how Jaemin got past your tight security. Jaemin jumped over your gate and helped you up and over for your escape. He pulled you onto his motorcycle and you both rode off to the underground drag race arena.

When you arrived it was everything you imagined. Intimidating guys and girls left and right. The security stopped you (clearly since you didn't fit in with your preppy outfit) but Jaemin reassuring the guard saying you were with him. You were expecting Jaemin to be one of the top betters or backers behind a driver but Jaemin started to get changed into a racer uniform. Part of you was worried and Jaemin could tell.

"Don't worry baby, I've done this a dozen times."

You still pouted.

"And yes, I've won every time, and I'll win again for you."

He pecked your lips.

"You better."

He chuckled at your comment as he got into his car. You were standing among his mafia members will visibly worried.

"On your mark racers!"

You heard the loudest rumbling you've heard come out of a car, covering your ears.

"Get set!"

The smell of burnt rubber came towards your nose and the cars became even louder.

"Go!"

The cars sped off with a huge cloud of smoke blowing behind them causing you to cough.

"First time?"

A very tall handsome guy looked down at you that looked like he could tear you to pieces in a second. You nodded in response.

"You must be m/n. Jaemin's talked a lot about you, I'm Johnny one of his members in his...company."

"I know he's in the mafia business, you know?"

"Oh, well at least he told you the truth."

Your conversation was interrupted by the sound of the cars approaching you heard all the screams and cheers as you saw Jaemin's car approaching. But you also saw the other one not too far behind. It was intense watching the cars quickly approach the finish line, your heart was beating rapidly with adrenaline. Jaemin was leading before the other car caught up and they kept going back and forth it was causing you to have anxiety. But at the last second, you saw Jaemin pull ahead and crossed the finish line. You and the other members screamed loud cheering and hooting. Jaemin got out of his car and you ran up and hugged him.

"I was so worried."

"Aw, my baby was scared? What did I tell you I'm a professional."

You saw people exchanging money and people cashing out after betting on Jaemin, you assumed everyone bets on Jaemin. Suddenly gunshots were fired and you heard cop sirens getting closer.

"Fuck, which one of you called the cops?!"

Jaemin grabbed your hand along with the other members following you to the back alley where their motorcycles were. A few gunshots were fired in your direction and Jaemin blocked you from the shots. You saw a bullet hit Jaemin.

"Fuck!" "Jaemin! Are you alright?!"

"I'm fine, m/n, if it came down to it, I would die for you."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Can you two lovebirds quit it for one second!?" Mark yelled.

You hopped onto Jaemin's motorcycle as he sped up getting ready to leave. Johnny and others were yelling at him to go ahead and that they'll hold the cops off. Jaemin thanked them and you two sped off into the streets and onto the highway back to his house. Luckily, you both arrived safely at the house with Jaemin's guards being attentive. You sat silently in his living room awaiting the other members who were slowly trickling into the mansion. You saw the maids rushing to give Jaemin a first aid kit before he brushed them off saying he could do it himself. Jaemin was struggling to reach the bullet on the back of his shoulder and he was cutely trying to reach to remove it. You giggled telling him you could remove it for him.

"Are you sure m/n?"

"Yeah, I'm studying to become a doctor so don't worry. "

Jaemin stared as you remove the bullet from his shoulder as he hissed you apologized kissing his cheek. He looked at you stare at his shoulder with such care as you delicately dabbed his wound with rubbing alcohol. As he thought about it he never had someone who cared for him this much, most of them wanted him for sex, money, or reputation. You'd always ask him if something hurt and warn him about you stitching up his wound for him. You wrapped his arm up and you looked up at him to make sure he was ok and Jaemin looked at you with pure love in his eyes. He smiled at you and softly kissed your lips.

"God I love you."

You laughed "I love you too, Jaemin."

He kissed you passionately, leading your kissing to become faster and deeper. As Jaemin was about to take off his shirt, one of his members interrupted the two of you.

Jaemin groaned screaming "What the fuck is it now?! Can't you see I'm busy?!"

"It's Mr. y/l/n."

Jaemin immediately froze, got off of you, and basically commanded that you stay where you were. But you weren't about to miss a showdown between Jaemin and your father, so you followed shortly after. You eavesdropped around the corner of the entrance where your dad and his associates stood along with Jaemin and his associates.

"I know you have him. I want my son back. I don't need someone like you to ruin his future."

"Funny, because last time I believe you offered me a lifetime get out of jail free cards, airway travels, and millions of cash whenever I asked."

"You know that wasn't the deal Jaemin, I told you to leave my son alone for those offers, but you don't seem to hold up your end of the bargain."

"What can I say? Despite you being a complete dickhead, your son is quite a lovely darling."

"Well, would your 'lovely darling' like to see this?"

Your father pulled up a video on a laptop his associates were holding, it was Jaemin and his buds in a club, but you can clearly hear what they were saying.

"Jaemin, I heard you 'found the one' you lucky piece of shit," Johnny spoke.

"Yeah, he's been treating him to everything, it's funny how those lovebirds act around each other," Taeyong added.

"There's no way Na Jaemin found someone to 'settle with', boss you're basically a god, you can get whoever the hell you want." Jaehyun drunkenly spoke.

"I can't believe you got lucky with m/n, he's basically the ideal leverage we need to take this gang to the next level," Lucas said.

Your heart stopped, leverage? What the hell was going on? Jaemin was still silent at this point.

Ten then jumped in "There's no fucking way you're actually in love with m/n right? He's not even that good-looking."

"Fuck yeah, the only thing good about him is his daddy" Haechan responded.

"Don't worry guys you know the only reason I'm keeping m/n is so I can milk out m/n's daddy of his money like a cash cow," Jaemin spoke.

You felt the tears starting to pool up in your eyes as they silently fell down your cheek. Is this what Jaemin really thought about you? What the fuck? So all of this was a joke? You were just fucking money to him? You hated yourself for thinking Jaemin actually loved you. Your dad was right, you didn't need a liar and manipulator like him in your life.

After Jaemin's words were played your father's laptop closed.

"What's wrong, Jaemin? Why so silent?"

"You can't do this."

"Who's going to stop me, think about it, it's my word against yours."

"Blackmail is a fucking cheap way to get what you want."

"How else did you think I got to this position? Beating those who get in my way. Now got get my son, get him for me, or else I'll send this to him to watch for eternity."

"...Yes, Mr. y/l/n."

"Oh and for the future Jaemin, do not think about seeing m/n ever again. You know the consequences."

"...Yeah yeah."

You quickly scurried back to the couch and wiped your tears off your face. You pretended to lie down and be asleep. Jaemin shook you to wake you up.

"Hey, baby?"

"Jaemin? What's up?"

"You...you have to go..."

"W-why?" You said trying not to break in front of him. You gazed into his eyes, is this really someone who didn't love you? You can't trust anyone anymore.

"Your dad is a ruthless man, and he has leverage on me, it's something that will change the way you look at me forever. To spare you the pain, I have to let you go now."

"J-Jaemin...fuck you."

You got up immediately but Jaemin grabbed your wrist.

"m/n...just know that I still love you, I sw-"

"You're just a fucking liar, I hope milking my dad's cash cow was worth losing the person who loved you most."

Jaemin realized you heard everything and was stunned. He watched you walk over to your father who embraced you in his arms with fake responses saying how he was so worried and other bullshit like that. Jaemin ran out to the front in hopes of you turning back. He wanted you to turn back, he doesn't want to lose the love of his life. He didn't want your dad's money, he wanted you.

"m/n! Please! I'm so sorry!" Jaemin was crying pleading on his knees.

He looked up at you, the full moon was behind you, beaming through your beautiful hair, reflecting off your soft smooth skin, just like the first night he met you. But this image was different. The moon shined on your tears and the streaks that fell down your cheek. He saw you with endless tears as each drop sparkled like a crystal in the light. You looked down at him and slapped his face.

"Fuck you Na Jaemin, I hope this was worth it."

You hopped into your car with the moonlight shining through your window as you took one last glance at Jaemin. He was broken and defeated. No wish on the moon could save him now.

[kulemii]

hullo! for the rgg questions, may i ask for A13, B4, C6, D9 and F10? sorry if that's too many!!

Not at all!

A.13) Favorite minigame(s)?

Too damn many lol. Everyone's just like, 'well ya can't go wrong with karaoke' and while I agee, I've gotta admit that I really only enjoyed karaoke in y0. I don't maybe because of the Majima and Nishiki? Maybe because of the UI? Idk, all I know is y0 is the only game where I couldn't get enough of it.

All time fave though? The fucking cabaret minigames in y0 and kiwami 2. Amazing gameplay! The music???? I wannnaaaa be your girlll oohoooooo. Or, WHERE IS MYYY LOVE!!!! I CANNOT FIND TI!!!!!! BOPS! BOPS OF THE HIGHEST ORDER! The girls??!?!?!?! Every single one of them??? I fell in love! LOVED THEM! My favorite girls were from y0 tho- Ai, Yuki, Saki, Hibiki. BUT KANA IS MY FUCKING WIFE!!!!!!!!!!!! I loved her so much! I was happy to see her in the next game. Despite the retcon.

The disco minigames were a blast a well! I sucked at them but they were a good time. Love to break away from all the bloodshed and tears to go bust a groove in my local Maharaja. Fantastic fun.

Dance battles in Y5?!?!??!? THE MUSIC????!??!??!? BOPS!!!!! BOPS ALL AROUND!!!!!! Wildly entertaining!

The taxi shit was fun too and hell, I even enjoyed hunting in Saejima's part. And I know a bunch of folks aren't gonna like this one but I really liked the Live Chatting in y6. It gave me some good laughs and I liked seeing Kiryu perving out on the internet lol. Fucking sue me, idc.

B.4) Who would you like to post more about but you don’t? Why don’t you?

Majima, most definitely! I don't because I think, I've said this somewhere here before, I feel like Majima tags are oversaturated to a degree. I know the word 'oversaturated' has a seeming negative connotation but I don't necessarily mean that in an insulting way. I just feel like, everything that can be said about Majima has been said to death and no one needs my input at this point.

C.6) If you could revive any deceased character, who would it be and why?

Nishiki. Nishiki's story began in a time where the writers felt the only way to end an antagonist's story was to kill them off and I don't think that was necessary. They're fucking yakuza- send their asses to jail sometimes! Shit. Granted, Yakuza 1 didn't have a very in depth version of Nishiki. When I met Nishiki, I was playing y0, so seeing the way his relationship with Kiryu slowly crumbled killed me and so did seeing him crumble. I would have loved for him to have survived and then get to have a redemption arc. Hell, Kiryu accepted Hamazaki- I'm sure he could do the same for his childhood friend and sworn brother.

D.9) Any hot takes? (Something that might not win ya any new friends)

Answered here, my friend! Warning, it's extra spicy.

F.10) Who would be your kyodai?

Omg, I think hate this question and I'm the bitch that came up with it lol. Um, probably Nishiki. (aww shit, here we go again) I would have loved to have been the support system he needed while Kiryu was away. I really think that with the right support, the right guidance and acceptance, Nishiki's story would have turned out different. And for the better. And I don't mean this in a shippy way either. The poor guy was just a lost punk that wanted to be seen beyond his brother's shadow. I'd give my right tit, to have been that for him (no smushing, i promise).

[frostedfaves]

Damage (2)

Part 1

Pairing: Jake Peralta x fem!reader

Summary: Y/N attempts to avenge her mother and save future victims.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: angst, family angst, magical angst, death

-

"It's clear here. You should be able to get all the way to the storage room without detection."

Y/N turned to the group after doing a quick sweep of the building with her powers. Jake nods in response, his features quickly shifting into a frown when he saw her magically open the door. He was quick to grab her arm before she could step inside.

"What are you doing?" he whispered as urgently as possible.

"Going in," she responded with a confused look before going to walk in again, the grip around her arm only tightening. "Jake, let go."

"No, you can't go in. You'll get hurt."

Y/N rolled her eyes at him. "Jake, I'm the least of your worries. I literally have powers to protect me and you made me wear this vest." She noticed the concern still swimming in his eyes and sighed. "Don't worry. I'll stick behind you guys and keep the exits sealed to trap them."

"Fine." He couldn't help the smile that broke through in response to her grin as he let her go and they entered the building.

-

The team spent weeks following that night of successful busts rounding up the entirety of Patali's men. Turns out there were a lot of them. After news broke--much to the dismay of the squad--that some had been captured, the rest quickly fled into hiding. Unfortunately for them, they didn't have powers to counteract Y/N's. By now, they'd arrested and charged every member of the drug ring, but had yet to catch their leader.

-

"Hey, Y/N!" Amy greeted with a smile as she and the other squad members walked into Y/N's apartment, the rest giving her the same line or a simple head nod. She was just about to close the door when she realized there was one person missing.

"I can't believe you were gonna lock out your favorite."

Y/N turned back to see Jake's hand inches away from hers on the door to stop it from closing, unable to fight the warmth in her cheeks. "Well it's not my fault you were late. You snooze, you lose, Peralta."

"Well then, I guess I'll just take my gift back--"

"Gift?" She grabbed his arm from behind his back to reveal a bag from her favorite craft store. "What did you...?" She let the sentence fade as she met Jake's eyes again.

"Well," he began as he came in finally and closed the door behind himself, meeting her eyes again with a shy smile. "I may have done a little digging and found out that today was your birthday so... happy birthday." His smile fell when he noticed the tears building in her eyes. "Oh no, did I get the date wrong?"

"No, no," she quickly reassured him, blinking back the building tears with a small sniffle. "Sorry, I just haven't gotten a birthday gift in like years so..." Before she could overthink it, she rushed forward to wrap her arms around him,, resting her head on his shoulder. "Thank you, Jake."

He let out a low chuckle, forcing himself not to enjoy the warmth that radiated from her body pressed against his or the pleasant scent of whatever wonderful perfume she'd sprayed that morning. "You don't even know what it is."

"Doesn't matter. Thank you." She opened her eyes and noticed everyone staring at them, quickly pulling away and clearing her throat. "Right, so anyway." She took the bag from Jake and dropped it on a nearby table as she came to sit in front of the group.

"Now that I've got you all here, I'm pleased to say that I've figured out a way to catch my dad. I'm going to lure him to my childhood home. His last remaining piece of home is hidden there. All I have to do is find it, break it, and he'll come rushing back to find whoever did it and punish them. I'll drain his powers and then you can arrest him. It should be easy, since he's literally nothing without the extra help."

"Are you sure you can do it without him hurting you, though?" Charles questioned with a hint of fear in his features, and Y/N couldn't help but appreciate his concern.

"He may have gotten away with a lot of things in his life, but I'm not letting him get away with anymore. What he's failed to realize all this time is that constantly killing and mentally destroying people paired with aging takes a toll on the body, magical or not." She stood up then, unable to fight the grin that followed.

"Let's go put that old man in jail."

-

They got out of the van outside of the house half an hour later wearing bulletproof vests. Y/N met eyes with Jake again and before she could question the look he gave her, Rosa bumped shoulders with her.

"All good inside?" she questioned quietly.

"Give me a second." She closed her eyes and ran through the building in her mind, being sure to check even the surrounding area for traps before opening her eyes again. "All good. Let's go."

The squad followed her inside and locked the door behind themselves as Y/N turned to face them all, her eyes watering slightly.

"I'm pretty confident that I'll get him and that I can protect you guys from him, but just in case..." 

She stepped in front of Terry, who was the closest. After conjuring up a large ball of glittering pink, she cracked it over his head like an egg and the insides covered him until his entire body glowed in the color. She repeated this action with everyone, getting to Jake last and sending him a quick--hopefully reassuring--smile before coming back to stand in front of everyone.

"I thought about making you all invisible but he'll know you're here regardless. This will protect you from any trick he uses to escape or try to get inside my head."

-

They followed Y/N around the house as she looked for the item, staring at the place in awe. The house was really a smaller scale mansion, lined with too many expensive items to count. Despite this being the home that Y/N grew up in, there were no pictures of her or her mother. Only intricate portraits of Pavlo himself in different poses, further proving his hatred of everyone but himself.

"I found it!"

They all followed her voice into a room with marble flooring, empty of everything except a long shelf filled with different books, expensive lamps, and other items the group couldn't seem to identify. They watched as Y/N turned around with a black box in her hands, opening it to reveal the shiniest jewel they'd ever seen.

"It's a Nuxvarian diamond," she added when she caught sight of their confused faces. "You leave it to protect a place you care about. Nothing bad can happen to it, or the place it's guarding while it's here. At least, until it's magically destroyed."

She tossed it out of the box and into the air away from everyone, quickly dropping the box and using both hands to shoot rays of pink toward the object. Everyone ducked as it broke into pieces with a deafening crack, turning to dust as it hit the floor.

"Cool," Rosa muttered with a grin that shocked the hell out of Y/N, just before the ground began to shake in the place where the diamond dust landed.

"Shit, that was fast," Y/N whispered with even wider eyes.

"What should we do?" Terry quickly asked in a panic, bringing Y/N back to her senses.

"Um, just get against that wall and do not try to jump in under any circumstances, got it?" She watched as they nodded and got into position before turning back to the dust, trying to gulp down any fear that threatened to escape.

Seconds later, Pavlo appeared in full human form, giving her a look that would melt any regular human to a puddle.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Y/N?"

"Hello to you, too, Dad."

He lashed out in anger with a ray of black glitter, but Y/N was quick to send it back to him, managing to cut his arm open in the process. His head fell back as he roared with laughter in response.

"Wow. Look at you, all grown up! Here to avenge your mommy's death? And what, you brought your little friends to watch?" He gestured to the detectives and Y/N couldn't help sparing them a glance, careful not to linger on Jake's fearful gaze. "Answer me!"

Y/N ducked as another ray was sent to her that she didn't have time to block. "Stop! You think you have any right to be angry? You can find more people to run your stupid fucking drug ring but I can't just find a new fucking mom, or get back all those years of being a normal child that I lost! So stop the tantrum and act like a rational adult for once in your fucking life!"

Pavlo let out another roar, the humor missing this time. "You're talking a lot of big shit for such a small brat. You forget that I had Nuxvar crumbling at my feet within minutes with my bare hands, so I won't even break a sweat dealing with a tiny piece of shit like you."

Y/N paused to take a deep breath, trying not to let him take her too far into her anger. "It doesn't matter what you say anymore. When I'm done with you, you'll be just another sad sack rotting away in jail because you couldn't just do the right thing and be a decent person."

"And how do you expect to get me there? I destroyed the one thing that gave you a chance against me."

"You didn't destroy the copy." She pulled the shrunken copy from her pants pocket, magically growing it to regular size and tossing it at him. "This ends today."

He simply glanced at the book in his hand before dropping it with a sinister chuckle, his eyes turning completely black as he kept them trained on hers. Y/N watched him fearfully, jumping when she suddenly heard her mother's voice directly in her ears.

"You shouldn't do this, Y/N..."

"No--"

"You know this isn't what I want..."

"Dad, stop--"

"I'm glad Pavlov killed me, or I would've had to do it myself..."

"Stop! Fucking stop!"

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could, clamping her hands over her ears in a failed attempt to keep the layered whispers out that were coming from inside her own head. Her breathing and heart rate quickened continuously as she felt herself going mentally insane the longer this went on. Finally deciding she'd had enough, a long, piercing scream followed by a thick cloud of glittering pink was released before she could stop it. It exploded even bigger, shaking the whole room and seeming to destroy everything within the four walls as it threw her backwards to the ground with the force of it.

When it finally cleared, the detectives looked around as their protective glaze disappeared. Jake instantly ran to Y/N, mind thinking the worst as the rest of the squad recovered.

"Y/N? Y/N!" His arms wrapped around her as soon as he saw her sit up, pulling back for a second to brush her hair away from her face. "Are you alright? What happened?"

She pulled herself out of her exhausted haze to attempt a response, her words falling short when she caught sight of the other side of the room.

"No," she croaked out.

"What? Y/N, what--"

"No!"

She pushed herself off the floor, running and falling to her knees again in the spot where her father stood, a pile of ash all that remained.

"No no no, fuck!"

"Y/N, it's okay." Jake commented, by her side again within seconds, until she pulled away from him again.

"No Jake, I was just supposed to take his powers, not his life! Now I'm just like him!"

"Y/N, listen to me," Jake practically growled out as he came face to face with her once more, this time placing his hands on her cheeks to hold her close. "You are nothing like him, okay? You did what you had to do to protect us and yourself. He did damage. You did good for the world. It's not your fault."

Y/N stared into his eyes a moment longer until sobs began falling from her mouth, her body collapsing into his arms once more as her tears soaked the shoulder of his shirt. She squeezed her eyes shut once more, grateful for the contrasting silence of the room as she tried to wrap her head around the mess she created. Jake was right, but he was also wrong.

She did damage, too.

[heartslogos]

newfragile yellows [948]

"When the ninety nine percent rise up I hope they go for you first, and that’s a compliment.”

“Thank you,” Max says to Sera. “I’m assuming it’s because of the polo. Is it because of the polo?”

“It’s the polo,” Sera confirms, “Combined with the khaki and the weirdly white brightness of your unnervingly straight teeth. The only thing that distinguishes you from members of some kind of cult is the fact that your nose is crooked."

“Again, thank you. Thank you. I knew it was the polo. It’s always the polo.”

“And yet you still don’t change out of the polo.”

“No, how else will people recognize me as coming from wealth?” Max replies. “All the better to lure the rich into a false sense of security and then surprise them with my left leaning ideals, featuring heavy socialist themes.”

“I can’t believe we’re friends when you look and sound like that, and then you say those kind of things and I go. Yeah. You could be a lesbians friend,” Sera says.

“Now, not that I don’t appreciate you constantly making remarks about my veneer of affluence, but is there a reason why you’re bringing it up right now?” Max pauses, gesturing for Sera to wait. “Actually. I have another more pressing question.”

“Shoot.”

“How come you never tell Evelyn or the Lavellans this kind of thing? Evelyn and I are cousins, we come from the same dirty blood money. And the Lavellans, despite all odds, have a surprising amount of material goods to their name.”

“The Lavellans don’t count,” Sera says. “Because they’re like, sharing all their property among their huge ass family communally. They’re like their own communism and then they share with all their friends and like — adopt people into their family for the sole purpose of sharing stuff. Doesn’t count, they’ve got a lot of wealth that they’re constantly giving away. And Evelyn doesn’t count either because she doesn’t look the part like you do. For one thing, I don’t think she owns a polo. Also the closest she’s come to khaki is an Inquisition combat uniform.”

“That’s fair. So why are you bringing this up now?”

“Because you’re supposed to say something nice to your friends before new years. It’s tradition.”

“Ah. In that case, uh — well, Sera. There’s no one I know who’s better than you at keeping a person nice and level,” Max says. “ But is this truly the best time or place for this lovely new years tradition to happen? Surely you aren’t on a deadline.”

“There’s never a wrong time to let your friends know how you really feel.”

“Sera, at this very moment Bull is attempting to break out of his own house while we watch, being incredibly useless as all of our friends gather on his yard to watch.”

“Yeah, I’m gearing up to do something. So I figured — might as well tell you how I feel about you now before I possibly kick it from interfering with the Lavellans and their crazy holiday competition.”

“Good thing Bull’s arm healed, huh,” Krem says walking up to them and holding out a very large plastic container filled with white and red cookies. “This isn’t from the Lavellan kitchen, by the way. These are from ours. Dalish and Grim made them. It’s from a box recipe so you know it’s safe.”

“Oh, thank the Maker,” Max takes a cookie. “So any of us figure out how we’re going to bust Bull out of his own house without letting the Lavellans know they’ve lost their taste tester?”

“Nope. We’re trying to find someone willing to sacrifice themselves to the noble cause of being the first to go onto Lavellan taste testing shifts. No takers yet,” Krem carefully holds the box of cookies under his arm as he waves at Bull. Bull flips him off. “I’m not volunteering that’s for sure. Last I heard the Lavellans are heavily invested in testing out every single type of nut they can get their hands on. I never knew there were so many ways to put walnuts into a cookie. Chopped, ground, whole, in the center, around the edges, just on top, folded into the batter — and that’s just one nut. They haven’t even gotten into the concept of mixing nuts together.”

“He’s going to be diabetic by the end of this,” Sera says, and then, “Put me on for first shift with the crazy bakers.”

“That’s very noble of you, Sera,” Max says. “So what’s the catch?”

“Look,” Sera points at the house. “The Lavellans are like, basically calling in all of their PTO for this thing. All their shit is overflowing onto the rest of us. And it sucks. I’d rather be in there with them eating five different variations of the same cookie rather than at work having to figure out what complex kind of schemes they were juggling around all of Thedas like a traveling circus. So yeah. Sign me right up and tell Dagna that I love her but I can’t fuckin’ handle this anymore. It’s like, some kind of irresponsible that those two had so much responsibilities assigned to them that the second they call time off at the same time as each other our intel and transport divisions descend into absolute butt-fucked chaos.”

“Eloquently put,” Krem says, turning and yelling at a group of their friends standing in Bull’s driveway, “You guys can quit it, Sera’s volunteered to go first. We gotta figure out second now.”

“What were they doing?” Max asks.

“The most intense game of rock-paper-scissors you’ve ever seen in your life. You could televise that shit and award prize money for the kind of deep psychological strategies those dunces were using. If only they could apply that sort of concentration to their actual jobs we’d be doing fine. Maybe we should just send criminals to the Lavellan’s house for punishment rather than threatening them with jail. Seems to work as a good incentive for our employees.”

[sunritual]

Let’s try this again

They should make a law where if the police don’t read you your Miranda rights you get out of jail free, like if you don’t get your receipt at fast food restaurants you get a mail free

The shaggy law - There should be a law that if you continuously and shamelessly deny doing something, no matter how indisputably obvious it is that you did it, you should get off free for pure savegery.

Confederates as “rebels for tradition” is laughable

Ram rainbow spiral horns profile.

People think grammar rules are etched into the universe — they’re not. When people say AAve is incorrect and ignorant, they say that their conception of how one should speak is inherently correct despite no evidence/truth. Grammar is agreed upon not mandated

Hippie sauce infusion pizza joint

Plain nude balconette with little purple and pink flowers at wiring

How could anyone predict anything happening but how could any be surpised either

Hierarchies - nahhhh

Humans aren’t inherently higher than any other creature or thing, but as humans i don’t think it’s wrong to prioritize other humans. There no better or worse but there is optimal for certain environments and lifestyles.

What differentiates a piece of art from a slightly different replica - when is it an entirely different piece altogether? Moving a figure slightly? Adding a splash of paint ? Changing a color to the point where no one could tell? Is the persons perception the deciding factor or what’s actually on the canvas. If abstract art is about the perception, and the waning behind it - does it change with these things?

An exhibit where people are invited to paint over and destroy or change the art

The differences between us and other. Are feeble - not illusory but

Periwinkle sky blue black and white each of a half circle . Faded out

Uni should be about exploring ideas — new and old famillar and foreign - honeing writing reading reasoning debating listening etc skills.

Umm, Karen were your parents married when you were born?

Ummmm no, umm i mean , uh ,yes —what??

Then why are you policing what other people do?

Dark blue light blue orange lemon circles layer on top of each other, several difffent sizes

Job apps tip!! For every job you apply to , Change your last name on your resume to the last name of the hiring manager and they will think you are related to them and hire you with nepotism. ( then, or coarse, legally when you get the job)

Unpopular opinion: i don’t really mind diarrhea

I for one think it’s incredibly brave of the brats girls to reclaim such a derogatory term

Starting every Describtion of every British show with “its kind of like skins but..”

Beanie baskin took that treat she snatched it - she ain’t even askin

The squad bod - a group of ghost friends share one body in which they have to live their lives -

My playlists are a matter of fact, not opinion. They reveal truths about the human experience

A cats gorilla imeritive of aesthetics.

I don’t chose them, they are not for joy but for truth. They are not intelligible but feel able

📝 narrative - longing

👼 chaotic

🌾 childlike wonder

Things that seem homo and phobic ATST

- Woodstock

- Brown eyed girl

Life has a funny way of sneaking up on ya when you think everything BG a gone wrong and everything bows up in your face

If women can’t do drag because they have an advantage then what is drag? Is it having good looking tits and a waist ? Looking like woman? or is it about having charisma uniqueness nerve and talent?

Examining Tik toks through different philosophical lenses

What makes it so they put parenthesis around lyrics in a song? What intonations and such make it parenthesis worthy

What’s an article of clothing from your childhood that you viscerally remember for seemingly no reason

I feel like the problem with the property brothers is they had too good of a childhood

Do you ever wonder if personality traits would be diffferntnin different cultures? Would a quiet person be even quieter if they were brought up in North Korea? Or the same amount of talkativity? Do we have the traits no matter what, or are we inclined to be more of one way than the others around us. Are personality traits created by comparison to those around?

Maybe the anxiety comes from knowing your not “supposed” to be as quiet as you are. You don’t really want to talk, that’s okay , but it’s expected that you do. So you are anxiety that your not living up

I find happiness every single day

This feeling has made me so appreciative of my mental state usually. How many people feel like this on the regular? How many people have this as their default? I am so lucky. My default is happy. I have my issues, but i need to appreciate the gift i was given. I was given elation. Childlike wonder. Curiosity. Adventurousness. Self completion and fullness. The rest will come.

If you see a celebrity you want to talk to in public but don’t want to bother them, make sure they don’t see that you saw them and start a fake conversation telling a friend that they should buy a product they are a sponsor for, and that they should use their coupon code. When they approach you to thank you for being such a loyal fan, obviously pretend to be shocked that they just so happened to be there

Christianity excuses selfish politics and beliefs

Things i never would’ve noticed if they weren’t pointed out to me:

-Left and right handed ness

Rating sports teams by uniform colors

Balloon animals but make it clothing!

Logics doesn’t care about your feelings, but it certainly cares about your biasees.

He who findeth keepith, whilst he who loosith weepith.

Religious thought often starts at the conclusion they want and attempts to make arguments justifying it.

Jewish debate starts with an agreement that we are going to follow the book, but argues about what the book truly says. Not good enough when you are still just following the book

Why did Jesus need to die for our sins

Dream - swimming in a lake and bump into something you think is a human tying to save to but is it! Oct 29 9:03

Candle company logo etc

I’m sorry for your loss

It’s not oka

If people can accept that stupid bad jokes can be

Is there a reason for each thing existing? Sufficient reason

Understanding if an area is a matter of perspective or fact? Is it Emperical ?

If you assume you have free will you limit your critical thinking ability and therefor stour actual free will - you need to navigate technology such as algorithms that show you why at you want to see or you completely loose free will - you cannot chose when you don’t even know a choice. there is Somthing controlling you

Revelation is within it doesn’t involve others - can happen in a moment

Revolution- requires work and years and years of convincing others m

What counts as a second chance? What counts as a first chance? What does giving someone the benefit of the doubt entail ? Letting them out of jail , or letting them have a 2nd term as president.

**Picture of coke or Pepsi book**

Trump supporters be like: THIS is the BALLOt sleepy crooked joe SEND to MY neighbor. So much FOR democracy

One flew over the coup coups nest

Ashge-nazi = Jewish trump supporter

The heathers of the USA are Cali, New York and Texas. Florida, too

Shape shifting would solve all of this. I could go to Washington DC, pretend to be trump, concede then leave. It would be hilarious, however if me and trump looked identical and had to so the most idiotic crazy shit to prove to America that we indeed are the true DJ.

Coup busting outfit - light cute short sleeve camo shirts , army green super utalitarian cargo pants , double sash belts in leather with grommets studs or spikes (to be decided by team (with democracy) or left up to the individual) leather (vegan available) lace up knee high boots (maybe with spikes if not too 2012) and the pies de resistance two army green denim shoulder high gloves that fold down as far as needed for the comfort of the fighter. Will be adorned with patches decided by the wearer. Edges will be frayed to honor to the coup busting aesthetic and spirit of the endeavor. We can decide on a signature lip color, but spf is required for all fighters. Of coarse we will have those football stripes below the eyes, don’t be stupid.

How far away can something be from a face and still have humans think it’s a face

Senator Portman - i hope you are well, and want to thank you for the hard work you have put in to this election. However, it has become abundantly clear that joe Biden and Kamala Harris have secured more than enough electoral and popular votes to warrant recognition as president and vice elect. Upon reading the transcripts of he hopeless court cases, there is absolutely no evidence of vote measurable fraud. is time you stand up for democracy and face reality by congratulating he pair on their success. Americans and scared and they need a powerful republican voice to demounce the unsubstantiated conspircy theories that attempt to thwart democracy in this beautiful county. Please do the right thing , and stand with sanity, freedom and democracy. History books and citizens will thank you. May god bless you, your staff and loved ones

Could mermaids exist through evolution in the future

Me learning about real us history - all the nations destroyed by the USA—- I’m the baaad Guy

The rest of the world - duh dodododosodo

Print that looks like a page of writing that has been sourced in water so it’s bleeding and darker in speckles

Zamps= examples

Clothes with green screen cut outs

Robots don’t need to be sentient to destroy us.

Navy mock neck long sleeves big orange and little white stripe on tube cage sides

A veritcal line stretch waistband

Cross cross and straps back

Square high neck

Scarlet polka dots around can light blue text and beach image as front

Blue stroke red inside square, blue triangle rainbow with eye and funky font

Y either know a particular topic or not , but it’s hard to pin down intelligence on one category

Cream background , ice cream pink script name kinda bev hills hotel script looking ish

Move your mouth in a differ way

Supersonic vibrating butt cleaner

Half magenta half red violet a blue teacup in the center with white floral frills thick serif font

Pink background am orange flower in a vase white present ribbon n red as a table

An app that familiarizes people with science - through experimental learning ― hands on experiences that make it seem less top down and authoritarian , and more like a set of steps that we take, things that anyone can do to get closer with nature and the world

A social media philosophy app - teaches what others said and gives people a chance to express their views , postulate, argue, etc gadfly? How would be avoid a shit show, how can we make social media more humanitarian. how can we care about people while also expressing deeply held ideas , how can we encourage users to examine their deeply held ideas without alienating them. How can we discourage hatred and abuse and groupthink with design? How do we slow people down and encourage them to recognize the human behind the screen. Street epistemology? Socratic dialogue?

Socrates - asking questions. Breaking it down to bits. Deeply understanding their argument. Asking about different possibilities and circumstances. Take vast assumptions and show scenarios that make go against them.

Build fact checking into apps

Narrative self vs experiential

Walks you through steps of the sciefitifc method and encourages you to explain how you feel each step actually helped you- then walks you through a scientist doing the same for their reasarch

Republicans only want to be free in the specific ways that benefit corporations

Are Christians more willing to support the death pen early because they already believe in the cruel and overstepping punishment of hell?

Where did the idea come from that you need to remain impartial when trying to persuade

The idea that there is someone in a similar but different dwelling, hearing similar but different sounds and feeling similar but different feelings is wild

We synthesize sets of traits, and particular actions in a super biased culturally constructed way

With the way we see things as humans- we categorize things into groups that aren’t really reaaal ― paratheletic groups

I just want the people and jobs that benefit society

Connection to nietzsches Dionysian art and eckheart tolle/Taoism

No matter your personality, there is probably a part of the world that you would fit in with naturally.

An ordinary girl is selected as one of the representatives of earth in the first meeting of various alien species after one advanced planet discovered and United 10. Confused as to why she was chosen, she goes on her journey meeting

Wha ba Bada da da da da dada he’s a wha ba ba dadada as a matter of fact it’s not my fault if you came up here thinking that you would win

Wanting to break boundaries and rules for the sake those who are hurt by the rules

You are imagining the best case scenario of the life you want to have and experience Ming the reality of the life you so have.

Yes her drips cosmetics line to students i. Class

Chez it people can goldfish people

Your personality flows where a system needs it to go to maintain balance

[forunfeltimaginations]

Let’s try this again

They should make a law where if the police don’t read you your Miranda rights you get out of jail free, like if you don’t get your receipt at fast food restaurants you get a mail free

The shaggy law - There should be a law that if you continuously and shamelessly deny doing something, no matter how indisputably obvious it is that you did it, you should get off free for pure savegery.

Confederates as “rebels for tradition” is laughable

Ram rainbow spiral horns profile.

People think grammar rules are etched into the universe — they’re not. When people say AAve is incorrect and ignorant, they say that their conception of how one should speak is inherently correct despite no evidence/truth. Grammar is agreed upon not mandated

Hippie sauce infusion pizza joint

Plain nude balconette with little purple and pink flowers at wiring

How could anyone predict anything happening but how could any be surpised either

Hierarchies - nahhhh

Humans aren’t inherently higher than any other creature or thing, but as humans i don’t think it’s wrong to prioritize other humans. There no better or worse but there is optimal for certain environments and lifestyles.

What differentiates a piece of art from a slightly different replica - when is it an entirely different piece altogether? Moving a figure slightly? Adding a splash of paint ? Changing a color to the point where no one could tell? Is the persons perception the deciding factor or what’s actually on the canvas. If abstract art is about the perception, and the waning behind it - does it change with these things?

An exhibit where people are invited to paint over and destroy or change the art

The differences between us and other. Are feeble - not illusory but

Periwinkle sky blue black and white each of a half circle . Faded out

Uni should be about exploring ideas — new and old famillar and foreign - honeing writing reading reasoning debating listening etc skills.

Umm, Karen were your parents married when you were born?

Ummmm no, umm i mean , uh ,yes —what??

Then why are you policing what other people do?

Dark blue light blue orange lemon circles layer on top of each other, several difffent sizes

Job apps tip!! For every job you apply to , Change your last name on your resume to the last name of the hiring manager and they will think you are related to them and hire you with nepotism. ( then, or coarse, legally when you get the job)

Unpopular opinion: i don’t really mind diarrhea

I for one think it’s incredibly brave of the brats girls to reclaim such a derogatory term

Starting every Describtion of every British show with “its kind of like skins but..”

Beanie baskin took that treat she snatched it - she ain’t even askin

The squad bod - a group of ghost friends share one body in which they have to live their lives -

My playlists are a matter of fact, not opinion. They reveal truths about the human experience

A cats gorilla imeritive of aesthetics.

I don’t chose them, they are not for joy but for truth. They are not intelligible but feel able

📝 narrative - longing

👼 chaotic

🌾 childlike wonder

Things that seem homo and phobic ATST

- Woodstock

- Brown eyed girl

Life has a funny way of sneaking up on ya when you think everything BG a gone wrong and everything bows up in your face

If women can’t do drag because they have an advantage then what is drag? Is it having good looking tits and a waist ? Looking like woman? or is it about having charisma uniqueness nerve and talent?

Examining Tik toks through different philosophical lenses

What makes it so they put parenthesis around lyrics in a song? What intonations and such make it parenthesis worthy

What’s an article of clothing from your childhood that you viscerally remember for seemingly no reason

I feel like the problem with the property brothers is they had too good of a childhood

Do you ever wonder if personality traits would be diffferntnin different cultures? Would a quiet person be even quieter if they were brought up in North Korea? Or the same amount of talkativity? Do we have the traits no matter what, or are we inclined to be more of one way than the others around us. Are personality traits created by comparison to those around?

Maybe the anxiety comes from knowing your not “supposed” to be as quiet as you are. You don’t really want to talk, that’s okay , but it’s expected that you do. So you are anxiety that your not living up

I find happiness every single day

This feeling has made me so appreciative of my mental state usually. How many people feel like this on the regular? How many people have this as their default? I am so lucky. My default is happy. I have my issues, but i need to appreciate the gift i was given. I was given elation. Childlike wonder. Curiosity. Adventurousness. Self completion and fullness. The rest will come.

If you see a celebrity you want to talk to in public but don’t want to bother them, make sure they don’t see that you saw them and start a fake conversation telling a friend that they should buy a product they are a sponsor for, and that they should use their coupon code. When they approach you to thank you for being such a loyal fan, obviously pretend to be shocked that they just so happened to be there

Christianity excuses selfish politics and beliefs

Things i never would’ve noticed if they weren’t pointed out to me:

-Left and right handed ness

Rating sports teams by uniform colors

Balloon animals but make it clothing!

Logics doesn’t care about your feelings, but it certainly cares about your biasees.

He who findeth keepith, whilst he who loosith weepith.

Religious thought often starts at the conclusion they want and attempts to make arguments justifying it.

Jewish debate starts with an agreement that we are going to follow the book, but argues about what the book truly says. Not good enough when you are still just following the book

Why did Jesus need to die for our sins

Dream - swimming in a lake and bump into something you think is a human tying to save to but is it! Oct 29 9:03

Candle company logo etc

I’m sorry for your loss

It’s not oka

If people can accept that stupid bad jokes can be

Is there a reason for each thing existing? Sufficient reason

Understanding if an area is a matter of perspective or fact? Is it Emperical ?

If you assume you have free will you limit your critical thinking ability and therefor stour actual free will - you need to navigate technology such as algorithms that show you why at you want to see or you completely loose free will - you cannot chose when you don’t even know a choice. there is Somthing controlling you

Revelation is within it doesn’t involve others - can happen in a moment

Revolution- requires work and years and years of convincing others m

What counts as a second chance? What counts as a first chance? What does giving someone the benefit of the doubt entail ? Letting them out of jail , or letting them have a 2nd term as president.

**Picture of coke or Pepsi book**

Trump supporters be like: THIS is the BALLOt sleepy crooked joe SEND to MY neighbor. So much FOR democracy

One flew over the coup coups nest

Ashge-nazi = Jewish trump supporter

The heathers of the USA are Cali, New York and Texas. Florida, too

Shape shifting would solve all of this. I could go to Washington DC, pretend to be trump, concede then leave. It would be hilarious, however if me and trump looked identical and had to so the most idiotic crazy shit to prove to America that we indeed are the true DJ.

Coup busting outfit - light cute short sleeve camo shirts , army green super utalitarian cargo pants , double sash belts in leather with grommets studs or spikes (to be decided by team (with democracy) or left up to the individual) leather (vegan available) lace up knee high boots (maybe with spikes if not too 2012) and the pies de resistance two army green denim shoulder high gloves that fold down as far as needed for the comfort of the fighter. Will be adorned with patches decided by the wearer. Edges will be frayed to honor to the coup busting aesthetic and spirit of the endeavor. We can decide on a signature lip color, but spf is required for all fighters. Of coarse we will have those football stripes below the eyes, don’t be stupid.

How far away can something be from a face and still have humans think it’s a face

Senator Portman - i hope you are well, and want to thank you for the hard work you have put in to this election. However, it has become abundantly clear that joe Biden and Kamala Harris have secured more than enough electoral and popular votes to warrant recognition as president and vice elect. Upon reading the transcripts of he hopeless court cases, there is absolutely no evidence of vote measurable fraud. is time you stand up for democracy and face reality by congratulating he pair on their success. Americans and scared and they need a powerful republican voice to demounce the unsubstantiated conspircy theories that attempt to thwart democracy in this beautiful county. Please do the right thing , and stand with sanity, freedom and democracy. History books and citizens will thank you. May god bless you, your staff and loved ones

Could mermaids exist through evolution in the future

Me learning about real us history - all the nations destroyed by the USA—- I’m the baaad Guy

The rest of the world - duh dodododosodo

Print that looks like a page of writing that has been sourced in water so it’s bleeding and darker in speckles

Zamps= examples

Clothes with green screen cut outs

Robots don’t need to be sentient to destroy us.

Navy mock neck long sleeves big orange and little white stripe on tube cage sides

A veritcal line stretch waistband

Cross cross and straps back

Square high neck

Scarlet polka dots around can light blue text and beach image as front

Blue stroke red inside square, blue triangle rainbow with eye and funky font

Y either know a particular topic or not , but it’s hard to pin down intelligence on one category

Cream background , ice cream pink script name kinda bev hills hotel script looking ish

Move your mouth in a differ way

Supersonic vibrating butt cleaner

Half magenta half red violet a blue teacup in the center with white floral frills thick serif font

Pink background am orange flower in a vase white present ribbon n red as a table

An app that familiarizes people with science - through experimental learning ― hands on experiences that make it seem less top down and authoritarian , and more like a set of steps that we take, things that anyone can do to get closer with nature and the world

A social media philosophy app - teaches what others said and gives people a chance to express their views , postulate, argue, etc gadfly? How would be avoid a shit show, how can we make social media more humanitarian. how can we care about people while also expressing deeply held ideas , how can we encourage users to examine their deeply held ideas without alienating them. How can we discourage hatred and abuse and groupthink with design? How do we slow people down and encourage them to recognize the human behind the screen. Street epistemology? Socratic dialogue?

Socrates - asking questions. Breaking it down to bits. Deeply understanding their argument. Asking about different possibilities and circumstances. Take vast assumptions and show scenarios that make go against them.

Narrative self vs experiential

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid: Part Two

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,064

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

Dean had his suspicions about this case, and you didn’t believe your dad when he said he took care of it. There was something about keeping a secret in and lying about it that you could spot other lies as well. It takes one to know one is what they always say. Dean knew exactly where he was going and knew that St. Anthony’s Cemetery was on his way out of town. It was the cemetery that everyone went to after dying, so if your dad was lying, then the body wouldn’t be in the grave.

“What's up?” Sam asked when the car stopped.

“Isn't that the graveyard back there?”

“Yeah. So, what? Bobby already checked it out.”

“And my dad is never wrong?” you scoffed.

“Yeah, we'll take a peek, and then we'll hit the road. Can't hurt,” he shrugged.

Without another word, you two left the car, and Sam had no choice but to follow. Entering the cemetery, you bounced between graves until you found the one that you were looking for. The only grave with overturned soil was Clay Thompson’s grave. If your dad was wrong, then a body wouldn’t be in this grave.

“Hey, I think I found it,” you called out, pointing to the grave. “Does that look fresh to you?”

“Yeah, actually,” Sam muttered.

Dean thought ahead and brought the shovels beforehand, so he handed you a shovel and got to work. Once you got down to the coffin, you opened it to reveal there wasn’t a body inside.

“What is going on here?”

“I don't know, but something stinks.”

“Looks like the dead are coming to life,” you sighed.

“Where do you think Clay is?” Sam wondered.

“If I had been dead and suddenly brought back to life, I would want to go home. We should find out where he lives and check there,” you sighed, turning away and leaving the two.

Dean watched after you, and his head started turning over what could be wrong with you.

As soon as you got to Clay’s house, you could sense something was wrong. Entering the place, you shined your flashlight around to see it was a normal looking house. The gun in your other hand stayed trained right in front of you in case something decided to attack you at a moment’s notice. There was no indication that the dead was even back here. Rounding the corner, you came face to face with Clay Thompson. He saw an opportunity and began to attack. Before he could even put your hands on you, you blasted him with magic, sending him toppling to the ground.

“What the hell was that?!”

“You're Clay Thompson, right?”

“Please, there’s money in the safe!” he begged.

“We don’t want your money,” you rolled your eyes.

“Who are you?”

“FBI.”

“FBI? Oh, my God. This is about Benny.”

“Dude, you’re the dead one here and you’re complaining about Benny?” you asked.

“He killed me! He shot me in the back! I'm supposed to let him get away with that?”

“Hold up. Are… are you confessing?” Dean asked.

“Please. I'll go with you. Just… just don't wake my kids,” he cried.

“You’ll go with us… where?” Sam asked softly.

“Jail.”

“Let me get this straight. You're Clay Thompson, and you died five years ago? Three days ago, you climbed out of your grave and killed Benny Sutton?”

“Yes,” he hung his head.

“Get up,” you snapped. He scrambled to do so, still scared shitless of you. “You’re dead!”

“I guess. I-I don't know what I am.”

“Clay?” a woman called out, entering the room with a phone in her hand. “I called 911.”

“It's okay, honey. These folks are the FBI. They're here about Benny.”

“Why don't you come with us, Mr. Thompson? I think that'd be best,” Dean chuckled.

The dead man could only nod, but Sam dragged both you and Dean out of his house to speak privately.

“Dean,” he sighed.

“He’s a monster!”

“He's a soccer dad.”

“What do you want to do with him?” he asked.

Suddenly, lights flooded your vision, and you heard Jody’s voice among other real officers.

“Freeze! Drop your guns!” Jody yelled.

You, Dean, and Sam were surrounded, and Jody wasn’t playing around this time. Sighing, you dropped your gun to the ground and put your hands up in defense.

“Remember the guy you said that was dead and couldn't possibly commit murder? There he is,” Dean said, doing what she asked.

“And?”

“And? And you're welcome for catching the undead killer zombie.”

“Whatever he is or isn't, that don't give you the right to shoot him in the middle of the street,” Jody snapped, taking out her cuffs and handcuffing Dean.

Two other officers did the same thing with you and Sam.

“Shoot me?” Clay squeaked.

“You're free to go, Mr. Thompson,” Jody assured him.

“Free to go?! What the fuck is going on?” you asked.

“I can't believe you were gonna kill me!”

“You're a zombie!” you yelled.

“I'm a taxpayer!”

What the fuck is going on in this town?!

“What the hell is going on in this town?” you asked, leaning your head on the brick wall since you three were arrested and taken to jail.

Each of you got a phone call, and each of you called your dad to come help.

“So, what? Sheriff's in on this?” Dean asked.

“The zombies are paying her off?” Sam theorized.

Looking around the empty room, you noticed through the glass windows that Jody was talking to your dad as if they were friends.

“Hey, look,” you pointed it out.

“So, what? Now they're friends?” Sam scoffed.

Jody left your dad’s side and walked into the room to let you go.

“You’re lucky,” she muttered, opening the cell door.

Without waiting, you shot out of your seat and left the cell, marching right over to your dad with a deadly look. All he could do was sigh since he knew he was busted. However, if you would only talk to him, he could help you move past this bad mood of yours. Grabbing the handles of his wheelchair, you pushed him out of the station with the brothers trailing behind you.

“Bobby, I thought the sheriff hated you?” Sam said.

“She did till five days ago.”

“Let me guess, the dead started rising five days ago?” you asked. “You knew about this and didn’t tell us?”

“Yep.”

“I think what Y/N meant to say is, you lied to us?”

“Look, I told you there was nothing here. And there isn't. Not for you.”

“There are zombies here.”

“There are zombies, and then there are zombies. Come with me.”

“Dad, who are you hiding?” you asked, but he didn’t answer.

He didn’t answer anything on the way home, and Dean had enough of it when he walked into his house.

“You want to tell us what the hell—”

A woman wearing an apron walks into the room carrying a plate which interrupted Dean.

“Oh, hey. I didn't realize you were bringing company.”

“It’s four a.m., babe. You didn't need to cook,” your dad chuckled.

“Oh, please! I’ll get some more plates,” the woman smiled, going back into the kitchen to get some more plates.

“Babe?” you asked, looking at him.

“Karen. My wife.”

“Karen died, dad. You told us this.”

“Exactly,” he sighed.

Karen came back out with more plates, and as soon as Dean saw the pie on the table, he was sold. Everyone sat down at the table, but you couldn’t seem to eat. Losing this baby of yours lost your appetite, and you knew everyone noticed.

“This is incredible, Mrs. Singer,” Dean said with his mouth full of pie.

“Thank you, Dean,” she smiled.

Both you and Sam gave a pointed look at Dean, but all he could do is shrug.

“It's great, Karen. Thanks. Could you, um, just give us a minute?” you asked politely.

She nodded and left the room, and the smile left your face.

“What the hell is the matter with you?” you snapped at your dad.

“Y/N, I can explain,” he sighed.

“Explain what? Lying to us? Or the American girl zombie making cupcakes in your kitchen?!”

“First of all, that's my wife, so watch it.”

“That is not your wife! She died, dad! People just don’t come back from the dead! If they did, my mother would be here but she isn’t!” you yelled emotionally.

“Bobby, whatever that thing is in there, it is not your wife,” Sam sighed.

“You think I'm an idiot, boy? My dead wife shows up on my doorstep, and you think I'm not gonna test her every way I ever learned?”

“Then what is it? Zombies? Revenant?” you asked.

“Hell if I can tell. She's got no scars, no wounds, and no reaction to salt, silver, or holy water.”

“Dad, she crawled out of her coffin. Something has to be at work here.”

“No, she didn't. I cremated her. Somehow, some way, she's back.”

“That’s impossible,” Sam scoffed.

“Tell me about it.”

“You bury her ashes?” Dean asked.

“Yeah.”

“Where?”

“In the cemetery. That's where they all rose from.”

“How many?” you asked.

“15 or 20. I made a list,” he stated, handing the list over to Sam. “Uh, there's Karen, Clay, and Sheriff Mills—her little boy came back.”

“That’s why she wanted us to drop it,” you understood.

“And there were no signs? No omens?”

“Well, there were the lightning storms.”

“That's what we said. What else?” Dean asked.

Bobby wheeled over to his desk and grabbed a book, reading from the last page that was opened.

“And through the fire stood before me a pale horse. And he that sat atop him carried a scythe, and I saw since he had risen, they, too, shall rise, and from him and through him.”

“So, Death is behind this? The Horseman? The Grim Reaper?”

“Apparently.”

“And you didn’t think to take this as a bad sign? These Horsemen want the Apocalypse to happen.”

“Yeah, I know, but—”

“Don’t you dare say, ‘it’s your wife’. It’s not.”

“Bobby, why would Death raise 15 people in a podunk town like Sioux Falls?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know.”

“You know, if Death is behind this, then whatever these things are, it's not good. You know what we have to do here.”

“She doesn't remember anything, you know.”

“She’s dead! Brain doesn’t function anymore. Of course, she doesn’t remember.”

“Remember what?” Sam asked.

“Being possessed, me killing her, or her coming back.”

“Dad,” you groaned.

“No, don’t ‘Dad’ me. Just... just listen, okay? She hums when she cooks. She always used to hum when she cooked. Tone deaf as all hell, but... and I never thought I would hear it again. Look, just read Revelation. The dead rise during the apocalypse. There's nothing in there that says that's bad! Hell, maybe it's the one good thing that comes out of this whole bloody mess!”

“What would you do if you were us?” Dean asked.

“I know what I'd do, and I know what you think you got to do. But... I'm begging you. Please. Please. Leave her be.”

The next day, you knew that getting something inside your stomach would be the best thing for you. It’s been days since your last proper meal, and you were at the diner picking at your food while you three discussed the case.

“So, what do you think?” Sam asked.

“There's nothing to think about. I'm not gonna leave Bobby at home with the bride of Frankenstein.”

“Hell, if you think I’ll let it happen,” you scoffed.

“Then, what do you want to do? Just walk in there in front of Bobby and blow her skull off?”

“If she decides that Bobby's face is the blue plate special, I'd like to be there.”

“Fine. See what else we can find out,” Sam groaned, getting up and leaving you and Dean alone… bad idea.

“Okay, this diner is completely empty except for just us. Want to tell me why you’re not eating or sleeping?” Dean asked.

“I have to go check on my dad,” you whispered, leaving your plate of food exactly like how it was when you got it.

Grabbing your jacket, you left Dean alone to figure out what the hell was wrong with you.

Wanna get tagged? Add yourself to this document! If your tag doesn’t work, find out why!

@sing4mejensen​ @essie1876​ @gh0stgurl​ @redsalv20​ @superrandomnatural​ @scarletmeii​ @babypink224221​ @gaveherhearttotheliontattoo​ @akshi8278​ @a--1--1--3​ @kendlemariee​ @miraclesoflove​ @earthtokace​ @teamfreewillsstuff​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @kiwihoee​ @jennazeise​ @phantomalchemist​ @posiemax​ @22sarah08​ @tricksterdean​ @andi-mendes-barnes​ @put-my-favorite-record-on​ @countrygal17a​ @whit85-blog​ @sammypotato67​ @knowledgefulbutterfly​

[the--blackdahlia]

Dr. Feelgood Companion Piece

So, the amazing @smokeandmirrorz inspired me to write this, and convinced me to post it. It kinda goes along with their’s, but not exactly. Also, it’s got Steven x Duff because I’m trash.

Setting: Dr. Feelgood’s Asylum for the Criminally Insane

Summary: The Rose gang was doomed the minute Axl got caught. They scattered, Slash and Izzy going one way, Duff and Steven going another. Until Duff is caught.

Nikki had just left Dr. Stanley’s office when he heard the hushed rumors from some of the more coherent people. A new resident of the asylum. Nikki smirked to himself as he found a seat next to Vince, who was trying to sunbathe through a dirty window.

“You hear?” Nikki asked, nudging the blond.

“I hear a lot of things. You have to be more specific,” Vince didn’t even have his eyes open as he relaxed.

“We got a newcomer,” Nikki said. “Wanna take bets on what got them jailed up like us?” Vince opened one eye.

“What are we betting?” Vince asked.

“You can have my dessert for a week if you get the closest,” Nikki told him. “And you know with Mick cooking, it’s good.” Vince sat there for a moment, contemplating, before he nodded in agreement. “Okay, what’s your guess?”

“Why do I have to go first?” Vince asked. He sighed and looked out over the yard, where he could see Tommy bouncing around. “Well, I don’t hear any laughter, so it’s not another Tommy. Maybe he murdered his whole family?”

“Ouch,” Nikki laughed. “Okay, I guess he’s a war vet like Mickey. Too many explosions too close to the ear?”

“Can’t wait to meet him,” Vince laughed. “I heard Mick is making chocolate cake next week.”

****

Michael McKagan sat in his room, a look of pure anger on his face. He hated people calling him Michael, his name was Duff. He hated people poking and prodding him like he was a fucking cow. And, worse off, he hated that they took him away from Steven. When the police showed up to get him, he told Steven to run, thankful that he had. And they kept asking him where he was. Duff wasn’t going to tell them.

“Michael,” The doctor in the corner spoke up.

“My name. Is Duff,” He growled. The doctor sighed.

“Right, right. Duff, do you know why you’re here?” Dr. Frehley asked.

“Because this country hates scum like me,” Duff gave him a small smirk.

“You were hanging out with the wrong crowd and you got caught,” Dr. Frehley told him. “With some rehabilitation, we can get you back to being a fine, upstanding citizen…”

“I don’t need rehabilitation!” Duff snapped, jumping up. The only other person Dr. Frehley had seen with such a short fuse was Vince Wharton.

“Duff, you were hanging out with a gang of bank robbers. You almost killed three police officers. The only reason you aren’t in a jail cell right now is…”

“I know, I know,” Duff crossed his arms over his chest.

“Now, are you going to tell us where the other members of the gang are? Saul Hudson? Jeffrey Isbell? Michael Coletti?” He noticed the way Duff’s hands balled into a fist at the mention of the last name.

“He doesn’t go by that name,” Duff hissed. “That name was given to him by an evil man. Don’t you ever call him that name ever again.”

“You know that William Rose is already here. And it’s believed that we have Mr. Hudson and Mr. Isbell on the way. We’re just waiting on Mr. Coletti…”

“Don’t call him that!” Duff screamed. Before he could launch himself at the doctor, one of his aids was through the door, holding Duff down. “Get off me!”

“You need to calm down Mr. McKagan,” Dr. Frehley told him. “This will help you.” Duff felt the prick of a needle in his arm and his body started to relax. “When you wake up, maybe you’ll be more willing to talk.” The aid rolled Duff onto his side, so he was looking at the brick wall.

****

Tommy’s laugh could be heard across the common room as Mick, Vince, and Nikki were allowed in the next day. He was sitting by a redhead who was staring up at the ceiling. The three made their way over.

“Fuck, it’s Rose,” Vince grumbled as he saw who Tommy was hanging out with. “I hate him.”

“You hate everyone who looks better than you,” Nikki smirked. Vince swung to hit him, but he had already expected that and moved. 

“Did you hear we have a new guy?” Tommy asked. “Axl said he might know him.”

“Did he now?” Nikki asked, siding up to the redhead. “Wanna help me win a bet?” Axl was about to open his mouth when a new face, dressed in the patient garb, made his way into the common room with two aids at his side. “That him?”

“Duff?” Axl asked. He jumped up and made his way towards the blond. “Duff!”

“Axl!” Duff pulled away from the aids. They watched from the sidelines as the two met.

“They got you?” Axl asked. “Where are the others?”

“I don’t know,” Duff admitted. “Izzy and Slash left. Steven was sick so we hid and the cops came and I told him to run…”

“Shit,” Axl sighed. “This is not how I had this planned Duff.”

“I know,” Duff nodded. “The doctor who’s been interrogating me, he said they’ve got Izzy and Slash…”

“I haven’t seen them yet, but we’ll keep our eyes open,” Axl motioned for Duff to follow him. “This is Mick, Tommy, Nikki...and Vince.” Axl rolled his eyes slightly. “This is Duff. One of my gang.”

“You weren’t lying about robbing that bank then?” Vince asked. Axl shook his head. “Damn.”

“Let’s hope they’re wrong,” Axl told Duff. “This place ain’t someplace for them.”

****

A few days later, Jeffrey Isbell, AKA Izzy Stradlin, was brought in. He had a shit eating grin when they led him out of the ambulance and into the asylum. And a few days after that, Saul Hudson, AKA Slash, joined them with a mass amount of curly hair shielding him from the rest of the world. Nikki, Vince, Tommy, Mick, Axl, and Duff greeted them.

“Izzy here is a master lock picker,” Axl explained. “Duff’s the muscle. Slash is great at a knife and well, other weapons.”

“No wonder you ended up in here,” Nikki nodded.

“What about Steven?” Mick asked. “You don’t talk about him much.”

“Steven was usually the face we sent in to get the money,” Duff explained. “And he was really good as explosives.”

“Oh, I like that,” Tommy laughed.

“That must make you the mastermind,” Vince looked at Axl. “My apologies to your gang.” Slash chuckled, causing the redhead to glare at him.

“I can’t wait to get out of here,” Axl sighed. “I hate you guys.”

****

It had been several weeks since Duff had been brought in, and every day, they asked him and the others for Steven’s location. And every time, Duff would laugh right in their faces.

That was until the night that an unconscious man was brought into the asylum. Mick saw it through the window as they brought him in on a stretcher. He could hear their whispered voices as they deposited him in a room, talking about how Dr. Criss or Dr. Carr would be by the next morning to assess him.

“Got a name?” One aid asked.

“Uh, Michael Coletti,” the other one responded as they got the file ready. “Alias, Steven Adler.”

“I see,” The first one replied. Mick stared at the door. He couldn’t wait to see Duff in the morning.

****

Duff shuffled along for breakfast. He had kept his temper in check, so the meds weren’t a requirement. He looked up at Mick, who was making the eggs.

“Anything new?” Duff asked. Mick gave him a smirk and leaned over to give him his eggs.

“Someone new was brought in last night,” Mick told him. “Completely in the dark. He was unconscious too.”

“Why does this matter to me?” Duff asked.

“They said his name was Steven Adler.”

Duff nearly dropped his plate when he heard the name. He ran out of the line, out of the cafeteria, with the aids following him. He rushed down one hall, trying to find what empty room they would’ve put him in.

“Steven!” Duff yelled. “Steven!” The few patients that had to eat in their rooms looked out the small windows in their doors, including Vince, who had gotten into a fight with a man named Sebastian the day before.

“Duff!” Vince called out. “Three doors down on the left.”

“Thanks Vince!” Duff rushed down the hall to Steven’s room. Looking in the window, he saw him on the bed, asleep, with Dr. Carr standing over him. “Steven!” Dr. Carr turned to look at Duff as the aids grabbed him. “Let me go! Steven!”

Duff was dragged back to his room, two away from Steven’s, where he was sedated and thrown on the bed.

****

Later that afternoon, Duff was released and he immediately went to Steven’s room. But looking through the window, he didn’t see him anywhere. The aids urged him along, sending him outside for some air with everyone else. The whole time, Duff kept his eyes peeled. He spied the group he hung out with standing together, talking to someone. Slash looked over and smiled, motioning him over.

“Duff, look who’s here,” Slash told him. Tommy was laughing and joking around with whoever it was, and as Duff got closer, he felt his heart stop. There was a black eye and split lip, but he knew who it was.

“Steven,” Duff breathed. The other blond smiled at him.

“Hey Duff,” Steven replied. Before anyone could do anything, Duff was pushing his way past them and wrapping his arms around Steven. He kissed him deeply before burying his face in his hair.

“Oh, that’s...okay.” Vince laughed a bit. Axl wanted to hit him, but he didn’t want to take a nap yet.

“You’re okay,” Duff whispered, holding onto Steven.

“I’m okay,” Steven nodded. Duff pulled back to look at the black eye. “Went down with a fight. You would’ve been proud of me.”

“Always am,” Duff smiled. He looked over at Axl. “So, got a plan?”

“A plan?”

“We got our explosions expert. And Mick works in the kitchen, and I know that Tommy is in the infirmary enough that he has the nurses wrapped around his finger,” Duff explained. “I think that we could bust out of here.”

[painterofhorizons]

When TV gives you all the tropes...

I am absolutely thrilled rn. So every Sunday prime time there’s a German crime movie running (usually Tatort but they have other setups as well). They have different investigation teams set in different cities throughout Germany and they solve crime cases. Then every couple of months you see the same team again, but each week there’s a different. So usually I don’t watch that regularly, only like when a case description catches my attention. They are usually very well done (kinda one of the best German movies you can get), but also very specifically German and not too much my taste (though the older I get the more I catch myself looking it Sunday nights).

Well tonight my dad happened to call me telling me that this episode was from our towns team again so I switched in because it’s always nice to see which corners they show, if you recognize something etc. Also I have (for the same reason) watched the last two episodes from my town as well and I really like the team.

Anyways what my point is: tonights episode (which built up on the last one) hit ALL the fanfiction lovers feelings. Summarized in short: the investigation duo is König and Bukow. They had a case last time when theys couldn’t catch the bad guy for his actual crime but set him up with anotherone and had him (falsely) put in jail for that. I like them because both characters are somewhat in the grey/not strictly good/bad/right/wrong corner. So the bad guy from last time is pissed as fuck, pulls some strings from in jail and teams up with another psychopath in jail. Psychopath 2 gets out of jail, gets a job as the facility manager of König’s apartment building, installs some espionage setup, poisens her meds and sets up audio stuff to make her secretly go insane (getting her insomnia with strange sounds/makes her hear voices, has her get horrible skin rash with poisened meds) - but she only realizes at the very end and really worries so much she’s getting insane loosing her mind.

Then we have Bukow, who’s father has some business with drug dealing. But the father also has cancer and refuses to have it treatened. The father kinda wants to take what little time he has left to take down some other drug dealers - but beholde! While that scene, the police was investigating and wanted to bust both old Bukow and the other drug dealer. Then we have another colleague from Bukow and König, who has beaf with Bukow and wants to score him off - but (character development!) in last minute decides to warn Bukow senior that there’s police and he shall fuck off. BUT the other drug dealer turns out to be psychopath#2 (the facility manager) who then comes and shoots Bukow senior. So the in jail bad guy who had teamed up with sociopath#2 had him destroy both Königs and Bukows life because he was pissed, right?

Then we have König, breaking down in her car, telling Bukow on the phone that she feels like she is loosing her mind, that she is scared as fuck and the they will just lock her up in a ward but really, she is so scared - ONLY to have not Bukow be on the phone but some salesperson who wants to sell her shit!

König previously went to jail to speak with the bad guy and told him they set him up because conscious, right? Then bad guy plays bad mind fuckery with her.

So Bukow and König get to the scene, Bukow senior is dead, König almost insane, meanwhile shot sociopath#2 turns out to be Königs facility manager. So Bukow sends her home to clean up evidence, because still nobody is allowed to know that they set up bad guy in jail, right?

Meanwhile Bukow goes to jail to talk to bad guy. Not to kill him but to threaten him.

Then Bukow goes back to König and has his “my father died”-emotional moment.

ALSO the last time Bukow senior went to lunch meeting with Bukow and they talked about the cancer, he said “time is too short to wait with you know who” - SO in the end they sit in Königs flat, Bukow past tears because father dead, they look at each other and then kiss.

I mean EXCUSE ME? It hit ALL the right tropes and feelings. It had EVERYTHING. I liked the Bukow/König movies before, but this one just made it all perfect. It kinda feels like a last episode for this team, I’m not sure we will ever see them again, and my dad didn’t like the episode too much because honestly not knowing the two episodes before this one, then this one really was off and too much. But knowing them?

Boy, I am emotional. It was like a perfectly written fanfiction. It was brillant.

[littlemissagrafina]

Fics That Give Me Feels

(Angst, whump, hurt/comfort etc.) Regularly adding new fics

Please note that some of these can and will be TRIGGERING for some so please be careful.

Depression, self-harm, mental health, death, etc. Sorry if I missed anything else that might trigger anyone (I haven't read through these properly in a while) if someone spots any triggers will you please let me know?

Stay safe babes, Agrafina out.

After the Storm Passed

Sometimes, Peter felt like he wasn't quite... real. Like maybe he wasn’t really himself but a bad copy of himself. Like maybe he’d come back wrong.

Lost boy's lullaby

"Goodnight my angel, now it's time to sleep

And still so many things I want to say."

- Lullaby, Billy Joel

Peter was surely tired and exhausted.

He has been exhausted since five... years ago? Right? He has been fighting Thanos since that time and he had been beaten up pretty badly. And of course, who would have forget the time that he actually died--disintegrating second by second on an unfamiliar planet, fighting the inevitable of fading away... fading into nothingness. He has been fighting since that time and now, he just couldn't get any break, could he?

i love you 3000, peter parker. whether you believe it or not.

what if, after seeing morgan, tony gets another visitor in the soul realm?

teach me to be comfortable in my own skin

"Mr. Stark?"

Mr. Stark hummed but did not lift his eyes from his work. "Yeah, kid?"

"Does it bother you that I'm not normal?”

Will I Ever Make A Sound?

Mental illness does not discriminate. It doesn't give a damn if Peter Parker is Spider-Man. It takes and it takes and it takes.

But there is hope. There is always hope.

By @losingmymindtonight

Being Alive (is different than living)

The lines between life and death become blurred for Peter Parker and his family and friends when Thanos snaps his fingers. But living again when you were once dead? Well, that's the hardest part. Peter finds that surviving and living are two very different things. It's a cruel and unfortunate thing to discover.

does it ever get better? (a journey through self-harm)

By @imstrandedonthemoon

the courage of stars

Peter falls silent again, exhausted, and Tony takes the time to study the kid carefully. Peter is sullen in a way he’s never seen before, shoulders hunched and weighed down by some unseen force.

He’s just not… Peter.

“Come on, Pete. Talk to me,” Tony prompts. “If you want to see the stars, I can take you. I’ll take you wherever you’d like.”

or

Sometimes, Peter can't breathe. Tony does his best to help.

+

mosaic thoughts

Tony watches, face tight with concern, as Peter swallows thickly. The kid’s hands twitch irritably where they rest on his thighs, and Tony’s eyebrows fly up at the increasingly open display of anxiety.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Tony prompts gently.

Peter shakes his head fiercely again, face beginning to crumple as tears start to spill down his cheeks. Tony quickly gets up and kneels in front of him.

“Easy, kid. It’s okay, it’s okay. Just take some deep breaths and you can tell me what’s wrong.”

Peter makes another sound before finally choking out, “I can’t - I can’t!”

or

Anxiety steals Peter's colors, but Tony's there to bring them back.

+

to build a home

After the snap, Peter comes back, but nothing is the same. He's now faced with near-crippling anxiety, depression, and PTSD. But thankfully, he's got a Tony and amazing friends and family to help rebuild everything he'd lost. Recovery isn't easy, but it's worth it.

+

teach me how to say goodbye

Tony curls Peter into him protectively. “Don’t hurt him!” Tony warns, and the man laughs.

“Oh, I’m not going to do anything. You are,” he says, placing the gun down on the floor. “Well, technically you have a choice. Either you can kill your boy, or you,” he says, pointing at Peter, “can shoot Iron Man. I’ll leave it for you to decide. The survivor will be free to go, never to hear from me again.”

(In which Peter and Tony face the hardest decision they've ever had to make.)

By @tonystarkstan

I can't find a title for this

By @justme--emily

This hit really close to home and had me sobbing.

Tell Me You'll Be Fine

"Tony." A voice, gentle and warm, spoke from behind him. Tony frowned slightly, that sounded very familiar but..

Tony turned around to look at the boy- no, the young man. Tony balked slightly.

He was taller now, definitely taller than Tony was. He filled into his body well, his muscles thicker and shoulders broader, still lean though. His hair was a little shorter, too, but it was still the same brown curls. The same doe eyes. The same trusting smile.

"You're-" Tony tilted his head, taking a step forward and huffing in disbelief. The boy- no, man, walked up to meet him, smiling softly. "Pete?" Tony asked quietly, hesitantly.

"Hey, Mr. Stark."

You should be here

Since coming back from the snap May and Peter had been moved into the tower, easing the separation anxiety between everyone.

Aunt May had become Pepper’s personal assistant which meant she could see more of Peter.

Not long after the rest of the Avengers were pardoned and moved in as well. It was a little tense to start with but soon everyone was building their broken relationships back up, a lot of crying and apologising involved.

Peter soon found himself with an extended family that he loved very much.

Now it was his Eighteenth birthday, and he’s happy. He is…

by @marvels-blue-phoenix

Through Your Tattered Window Pane

While fighting a battle he wasn't supposed to be in, Tony loses his memory. He slowly regains it, seeming to remember everyone... except Peter.

+

Am I Just a Shadow You Drew?

Tony has been distant lately. Peter learns why. [AU: No powers]

By @emeraldmoon

broken by my own hand (put back together by yours)

"For the first time he realizes how perfectly the kid fits into his life. In his arms, against his chest, under his chin, in his entire world."

What Do I Need?

He's not coming. If I wasn't such a burden to him before maybe he would have helped me now. Maybe he would come pick me up and everything would be okay. But everything's not okay because I ruined everything. I should have lied more. I shouldn't have talked to my counselor. This. Shouldn't. Be. Happening.

By @scooter3scooter

Diamond of the Day

Peter couldn't let Mr. Stark die. He wouldn't let him die. He had lost Ben, he wouldn't stand by and not do anything.

Or

The Avengers Endgame/Merlin crossover that no one asked for and made me sad

+

Tumblr Drabble/One Shots

+

Whumptober 2019

By the stunning @itsreallylaterightnow

Resetting the Bone

"Morgan was being sweet, he knew that. She didn’t understand how Peter was sick. She had heard somewhere- how nobody could guess- that he was hurt on his left arm. She knew he had done it. Not a bad guy.

She’d come up with the idea that he needed a Band-Aid to keep on his wrist. Pride glowing on her face, she made sure he had one every morning. Peter wore it all day for her.

Morgan kept giving him Band Aids every visit. She didn’t give up. She was being sweet. She was trying to take care of him. But he really wished she would stop!"

these christmas lights keep shining on (without you here)

With Christmas right around the corner, Peter doesn’t know how he can move on without Tony. Thankfully, he has his family to help him through it.

By @marvelous-writer

Just gonna let em hate

It’s not like anything changed much.

Peter is usually great brushing off all the shit everyone gives him for being himself. It usually doesn’t matter what they think; what anyone thinks really.

So why is it getting so hard for him to do that recently?

By @starrykitty013

cracks in my glass house

Since adopting Harley, the adjustment period had been... hard.

Harley didn’t seem to think Tony cared about where he went or what he did or when he did it. He’d had to bail Harley out of jail more than once already. Harley had brought home girls and boys alike on various nights, only to send them home in the morning and never speak to them again (not that Tony could judge, but by this point he’d passed out more NDAs than he could keep track of).

But it was fine. Everything was fine. Tony loved Harley. He’d do anything for him.

Except let Peter become one of those nameless faces he spent the night with.

TLDR; Harley is a ~bad boy~ and Tony doesn’t want him to hurt Peter.

New Dream

“You ever tried to escape?”

Peter chuckled. “Yeah. Lots of times I end up back here, brink of death. Though, twice Tennison was so impressed he let me have extra dinner and no experiments the next day.”

“Wow, kiddo, living the luxurious life, huh?” it was astounding how quickly they’d fallen into a comfortable companionship.

“There was a guard who helped me once,” Peter’s smile dropped with his volume. “But he had to leave. They never found out he helped me. I was hoping…”

He trailed off and shook his head. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to hitch a ride with you when Captain America comes to bust you out, huh?”

Tony’s heart jumped. Oh, kid, if you knew just how much I wished for that. “Yeah, I guess I’ll let you come along. Only one stowaway allowed, though, you hear me? No weird mutated turtles or rats or something.”

Peter laughed again, and for a moment the cold cell felt warm.

[leelee10898]

Chikara: Ojike (3/?)

Summary: Ellie finally moves forward with her life, and something goes horribly wrong. Ojike translates to Fear.

Warning! This chapter contains violence, pain and sexual violence. Read at your own risk.

Series Raiting: Mature. Angst, character death and violence, Nsfw content.

Catch up HERE

** I apologize in advance. Line break is not working

"Again." He ordered. Ellie got into position as Colt charged her, she quickly ducked under his punch and jabbed him in the side. Colt turned around and faced her, this time his leg swept out and Ellie quickly jumped out of the way, taking out his other leg. Colt fell to the ground,  but not before he grabbed hold of her ankles taking her down with him. He pinned her down on the ground, his face inches from hers. "Damnit Ellie. Remember always watch your opponent's movements. It could be a matter of life or death." She rolled her eyes "Is this really necessary?"

Colt let go of his hold on her, Ellie used her body strength to flip Colt over. She straddled him pinning his arms above his head. "Always watch your opponent's movements." She smirked at him. "Cute." He chuckled. She pressed her lips to his, as he wriggled his arms free, his hands stroking her sides.

"Ok, let's work on another sequence."

Colt jolted up from a dead sleep. It was just a dream, but damn if it didn't feel real. Shortly before Ellie went to Riyas, Colt taught Ellie some self defense. Every member of the Kaneko family was made to take different forms of martial arts. Teppei may not have wanted Colt to take the helm of the MPC, but he damn sure insisted he have the same training. He looked at his phone, 8 pm which mean it was 11pm Eastern time. He crept from the couch, and walked out the back door taking a seat on the steps. He punched in his passcode and opened his photos,opening the one album that got him by, Ellie.

There weren't many, mostly of prom. A few from their time together at the garage, the times they spent sneaking around with each other.  He missed her so much it hurt, the days were ok he kept himself busy, but the nights wore the worst. He told himself not to do it, but his needs got the best of him. He punched in the number he memorized by heart, blocking the number of course. He held it to his ear as it rang on the other end, 3 times before he heard it

Hello?

He felt like the air had been sucked out of his lungs. Such a sweet sound, a sound that could bring him to his knees.

Hello? She said again.

He couldn't speak, but god did he want to. He wanted to tell her that he loved her and missed her so much. He wanted to tell her that he was coming there, to be with her, to protect her, but he just couldn't. He shouldn't have even called.

Colt? Colt is it you? He could hear the desperation in her voice.

He panicked, quickly hanging up the phone.

"Hey, there you are? How's that side feeling?" A voice came up behind him. He quickly wiped the tears that had been pooling in his eyes "Hey x, yeah im feeling a little better. I'll be heading back home tomorrow. " he stood averting her gaze so she wouldn't see the sadness he couldn't shake. He stepped into the house, ximena following behind. After he was attacked he went to the only place he thought he could get help, ximena. He filled her in on what happened, And how the assailant told him that Wallace sent him. Colt was planning on going after them, hunting them down and taking care of them once and for all.

"I know you miss her Colt. But you're going to burn yourself down before you can even make it to her. Get out of LA, got be a normal guy." Ximena ruffled his hair with her fingers. "I don't know how to be a normal guy X. And if the brotherhood is out there still, it's not safe for me to be around her, not yet." He flopped down on the couch,  wincing in pain as he forgot about the fresh gash on his side. "I just hope you know what your doing kid."

******

East Coast.........

"Colt. Colt is that you?" Ellie panicked,  desperate to hear his voice, but she was met by the end of the call.

"Hey, whats up Ellie? Ingrid came to find her as she had stepped away once she noticed the blocked call flashing on her screen. It had to be him, he would be the only one to call her blocked, but why wouldn't he say anything?

"I think Colt called me blocked." Ingrid gave her a stern look. "Did he say anything?" Ellie shook her head no. "Well how do you know it was really him? I think you need to put your phone in your purse." She took the phone from Ellies hand, and slipped it into her purse. "And enjoy the movie with us. Nick seems to really like you." Ingrid grinned looping her arm in Ellies. "Yeah, You're right. Ok I can do this." Ellie took a deep breath and rejoined the two men for the movie.

Over the next couple of weeks Ellie spent most of her free time with Ingrid, Kyle and Nick. She knew Nick liked her it wasn't much of a secret, Ingrid made sure to tell her every chance she got. She also broadened her horizons by taking a few dance classes, and not the classical training ones her father forced her into, since she enjoyed learning from Logan. It was two days before Christmas break kicked off.  Ellie had just finished her last paper and pressed send, closing her laptop when ingrid busted into the room. "Get up, were going out."

She demanded, throwing open Ellie's closet. "Ah. Ok where are we going?" She came up beside Ingrid, who was frantically searching through Ellies clothes.  "Nothing. You have nothing here. Guess you'll have to wear something of mine then." Ingrid sighed. "Ingrid, slow the hell down, where are we going?" Ingrid stiffened rolling her eyes as she turned towards Ellie. "Ellie. It's the sigma beta sigma holiday mixer. The most important of all holiday parties on campus, and we scored an invite." Ellie knew a few of the sigma brothers, she helped a few of them writing reports for them.

"Yes. Yes this will work beautifully." Ingrid held up a bright red short flare dress, with a squared neck and spaghetti straps.she handed the dress to Ellie, and motioned to change. It fit like a glove, she paired it with a pair of black tights and booties, colts leather jacket the finishing touch. She scrunched her hair,  giving the illusion of perfect beach waves. Ellie looked at herself in the mirror, it had been a while since she got dolled up, but she felt good. "Ok, time to take a selfie." Ingrid grinned as she slid up next to her, both posing for the picture. "

She posted the photo to Instagram, tagging Ellie and they headed for the party.

Once there Ellie enjoyed herself dancing and chatting with some people she met in a study group. She broke into a smile when she spotted Nick approaching with two red solo cups. "Hey you." Nick handed her a cup. "You look stunning Ellie." She held the cup in her hand, staring down at the contents. "You're not going to end up drunk off one drink. Its holiday punch." Nick teased as Ellie lifted the cup to her ruby lips taking a modest sip. She immediately grimaced at potent concoction she ingested. Nick snorted at her expression. "Ok, that was downright disgusting." She gagged.

She shared a few dances with Nick, before she knew it it was almost 12. She went in search of Ingrid to let her know she was leaving, she had a ton of packing to do and her flight left at 10 am. She looked everywhere she possibly could before giving up her search. "Can you tell Ingrid I had to leave. I can't find her anywhere." She asked Nick who was nursing a beer in the corner of the room. "Yeah, sure.  Do you want me to walk you home?" He searched her eyes for any kind of sign "No, I'll be alright. Thanks though. You're such a good friend Nick." She stood on her tiptoes placing a kiss on his cheek. "Yeah, good friend." He half chuckled. "Merry Christmas Nick." She smiled as she headed for the door.

It was a couple block walk back to the dorm. She pulled colts jacket tightly against her body, to shield herself from the bitter wind that slashed against the sheer fabric of her legs. It had just snowed a few days prior, so she had to be careful walking not to slip in ice with the slight heal on her boots. She made it a block from the frat house before she noticed a shadow trailing behind her. A chill rippled through her body, but not from the cold. She picked up the pace, trying to put some distance between her and the uneasy feeling of the stranger behind her. She crossed the the other side of the street in hopes the other person would stay on the opposite side, and when they followed she felt her heart drop and pulse race.

Just 2 more blocks to go, but the uneasy feeling grew as the person picked up their pace. Ellie broke into a sprint as they headed for the dimly lit alley that separated her from the town and the campus.  If she could just make it onto school property she would be ok. She walked into the alley, a dead end. Her nerves getting the better of her, she took a wrong turn, there was only one way out and the person following her, a man, was now right in front of her, blocking her only exit.

"Man, you're a hard one to get alone." He spoke, as he gave her a crooked smirk. "St- stay back. You. You don't know who you're messing with." Her voice betrayed her. "Heh," he laughed. "I know exactly who you are Ellie wheeler. Man, Jason said to take care of you." He began to move forward, Ellie cowering away backing into a wall. "You're a lot cuter than I expected. I think I'll have myself a little fun before I kill you."

"Jason? No. He's in jail." Ellie whimpered in disbelief.  "Oh. You didn't hear? He escaped. And he wants retribution for your betrayal." The man lunged for her, somehow she remembered the training she got from Colt, her father and Logan.  She stepped to the side slightly, bringing her knee up and slamming it into his groin hard. He crumpled to the ground with a loud grunt as Ellie ran towards the opening of the alley. "No you fucking dont." He reached out grabbing her leg, pulling her down to the cold, unforgiving pavement. She picked herself up quickly,  shaking off the stinging pain of her hands.

Her assailant gripped her by the hair spinning her around and slamming her into the brick wall, hitting her head. A small trickle of blood ran down her face, As she screamed out. His hand gripped tight in her hair he spun her around to face him. "My. My father is a detective,  he will see you in jail. And my. My friends, the MPC. they'll kill you." She sobbed out the man looked at her with a wildness in his eyes. "I'll be long gone by the time they find you sweet thing. The brotherhood stays hidden." He began to push her dress up. Panic set in, she flailed wildly as he cupped her mouth drowning out her screams. She moved her head biting down on his hand hard, eliciting a scream from the man. He lifted his hand and back handed her, sending her to the ground again. "You little bitch. I'm going to enjoy this." He spoke as he grabbed her legs, pulling her towards him. Ellie thrashed her legs frantically, freeing one and kicking him into the stomach. She stood, adrenaline pumping,  anger coursing through her veins. She kneed the in his jaw as he doubled over in pain from the kick to his abdomen. She should have ran, she should have screamed for help but the only thing on her mind was hurting the man who attacked her.

As she landed blow after blow she felt herself being torn apart, the shy sweet nerd she once was falling away, leaving something behind she didn't quite recognize. The man collapsed on the ground, face bleeding badly from where Ellie punched repeatedly. With some strength he grabbed hold of her ankle yanking her to the ground. He hovered above her grabbing her head on either side and slamming it back into the pavement with a sickening thud. Her eyes flickering shut she seen a figure ran into the alleyway pulling the man off of her. The last thing she heard was her name being called repeatedly as she slipped into blackness.

Permatag

@kennaxval @hopefulmoonobject @crookedslimecreatorpasta @be-still-my-aching-heart @ao719 @speedyoperarascalparty @riseandshinelittleblossom @cocomaxley @bobasheebaby @ownworldresident @cordoniaqueensworld @indiacater @blackcatkita @darley1101 @hazah @desiree-0816

ROD

@daniv2278 @brightpinkpeppercorn @lovehugsandcandy @going-down-downtown @mercyparkcrew @emichelle @annekebbphotography @walkerismychoice @yesivefallenpreytothechoicestrap @zaira-oh-zaira @sweetest-marbear

@simsvetements @zaffrenotes @professorortegasstudent

@akrenich @ifyouseekheart @client-327 @choicelogansbitch @choicesarehard @paisleylovergirl @itskismetbb @itsmarleen

@rhischoicesfanfics @distinguishedsaladoperawinner @iplaydrake @coffeebeandragon @jasidu2 @charliezchan

@umiumichan @sarwin85 @skdskdskdskdskdsk @liamzigmichael4ever

@littlemissimaginativerhi

@sumbarbietingz

[weasleysicon]

Conspicuous [Greaser!Ashton One Shot]

requested?: no

a/n: hello all, i’ve been very sad and stressed lately so i’ve decided to write a greaser!ashton one shot to fill that empty void in my life. the picture attached straight up gave me the inspiration. enjoy! i also recently hit 400 followers and i would like to thank everybody so much! i love u guys

warnings: language, violence, mention of violence, smut (i’ve never written smut before so i’m S ORRY if it seems a little awkward)

word count: 7.6k (this is the longest thing i have ever written in my enTIRE EXISTENCE)

another a/n: shoutout to my love, sierra (@cosmocalum), for helping me with this one shot when i was really stuck! love u buggy <3

Conspicuous, 1: standing out so as to be clearly visible. 2: attracting notice or attention.

1956

“SO, HEARD YOU’RE getting out today,” his cellmate, Vinny, piped from across their small shared cell. Ashton turned his attention away from the book he was reading, looking at the blonde man across from him.

“Seems that t’be that way,” he added quietly, not in the mood to have a conversation. Ashton Irwin was arrested for tagging and petty theft in 1953, leaving his entire life behind. He had everything he could’ve ever wanted, he was planning on finally giving the love of his life the promise ring his mother passed on to him, his family was finally opening their hearts to him, and he was surrounded with quite possibly the best people he could imagine.

He could still remember the day he was arrested; he could remember the look on his girl’s face as the cops busted into his small apartment and took him away from her, for three years.

“What are you gonna do once you’re a free man?” Vinny questioned, attempting to keep the conversation going.

“What kind of dumbass question is that, Vin?” Ashton grimaced, disgusted by such a question. He looked at Vin, who was holding a look of general wonder. He sighed, “if you must know, I’m going to get my girl. I know she’s been waiting for me all these years.”

“Irwin, she ain’t wait for you, bud.” Vinny wasn’t trying to sound like an asshole, but he felt that Ashton deserved the truth. “No girl ever waits for their fella in prison, no matter how much she loved you.”

Ashton turned his head back to the book, “she waited for me, Vin, I know she did.”

            -------

“Irwin, up! You’re out,” the guard sounded as he pulled open the cell door. Ashton closed the book he was reading and stood up to finally get out and find his girl. As he was walking through the corridor, some of the inmates were cheering, the others jeering. All of the words of anything but affirmation rolled off his back, he was getting out and they weren’t. Nearing the front desk, Ashton could see his best friend, Calum, sitting in the waiting room. A smile painted across his face, happy that someone came to get him. Rounding the corner to the desk, Ashton was presented with papers that he had to sign stating that he understood his parole and he was passed a bag with his belongings.

“Hey, mate,” Calum’s thick, gruff Australian voice sounded through his ears. Calum stood up from where he was standing to envelop his best friend in a hug, which Ashton very happily returned. “I’ve missed you, man. Streets ain’t been the same without you,” Calum said. He wasn’t lying, their small group of four hadn’t been the same once their key member was jailed, considering Ashton was like their leader in a sense.

Ashton flashed a small smile, “let’s go, Hood, I got things to do.”

As they neared Calum’s car, Ashton smiled again. “Still got your old Hudson Hornet? Nice to know that things haven’t changed much,” Ashton mused. Calum cracked a smile as he unlocked the doors and the two men slid into the car.

“What’re you gonna do now that you’re out?” Calum sounded, starting the engine. Ashton was ripping open the plastic bag and grabbed out the only two things he had on his person at the time of his arrest: his leather jacket, and his wallet. After sliding on the black jacket, he opened his wallet and took out the small picture he had.

“I’m gonna go see Sweet Pea, she’s gonna be over the moon that I’m out,” Ashton said quietly. He could’ve sworn he heard Calum’s breath hitch at the mention of Sweet Pea. The smile Ashton had on his face faltered a bit, “Calum, what’s wrong?”

“Mate, no one’s heard from Sweet Pea since you got locked up. She stopped coming around,” Calum said quietly, scared that if he said it any louder that Ashton would blow up.

Ashton’s head snapped away from the picture and towards Calum. She what!? He really had no words. She always told him that they were together forever, that they would always wait for each other, no matter what. “That’s… impossible. Maybe she just didn’t wanna hang out with you three dodo birds without me, take me to her house.”

Driving down the street couldn’t have been more awkward for Calum. He’d only scraped the surface of everything that’s changed. He didn’t even tell him the worst part of Sweet Pea dropping him, and honestly, he didn’t want to.

As they pulled up to her folk’s house, Ashton swung the door open and almost flew up the stairs to the porch. Upon knocking, the sound of laughter could be heard from inside and Ashton’s heart skipped a beat, that was his girl’s laugh. Knocking on the door, his heart was pounding in his chest. The door swung open, revealing some schmuck who didn’t look like he belonged in the house. “And who are you?” this mystery guy questioned.

A grimace took over Ashton’s face, “none of your business, where’s Sweet Pea?” As soon as he said her name, she appeared from behind the man, a worried look on her face.

“It’s okay, Johnny, it’s just Ashton,” she said, grabbing onto Johnny’s bicep. “Go wait for me in the kitchen, love, I’ll only be a minute,” as soon as she muttered those words, Johnny pressed a light kiss to her lips, causing Ashton’s eyes to almost bug out of his eyes. What in the actual fuck? Why is he kissin’ my girl? My girl! “Ashton--”

“Sweet Pea? What’s goin’ on?” Ashton asked. He couldn’t believe what was going on. His girl, with another man, kissing him and calling him love. “I just got out, babe, I’m here to take you home,” Ashton said, stepping closer, attempting to pull her into him. Sweet Pea backed away from him, rejecting his gesture with a swat of her hand.

“No, Ashton.” She ran a hand through her hair, trying to formulate the words she needed to get her point across to him. “You weren’t there for me, what was I supposed to do? Johnny’s good to me, Ash. He loves me, takes care of me, and most of all, he doesn’t get into trouble,” she explained. She wanted to wait for Ashton, she really did, but she couldn’t take the pain of not knowing if he was okay or not, if he was staying alive in prison or getting killed in the courtyard.

“You don’t belong with him, darling, he’s a fuckin’ preppy. He can’t protect you like I can, you know that, Sweet Pea,” Ashton tried to reason, stepping closer to her once again. When he reached for her again, he was met with Johnny stepping in front of her.

“I can do her one better, Greaseball,” Johnny taunted. “I can provide a life for her. The only thing you can provide for her is pain and danger, whereas I can give her the life of luxury a beautiful woman like her deserves--”

“You know nothing of our fuckin’ relationship, so I’d back up if I were you, you trust fund baby,” Ashton interjected, about halfway to sending Johnny to the emergency room with a broken nose.

“I know plenty, asshole. Get back in your buddy’s little car and tag a wall or something, trash,” Johnny finished, holding his arm out so Ashton couldn’t shuffle any closer to her. “She doesn’t love you, man--”

“Johnny, plea--” Sweet Pea tried to silence them, knowing now that Johnny was trying to get a rise out of Ashton.

“Men are talking, Sweet Pea. Go to the kitchen and find your mother,” Johnny turned his head ever so slightly to give her a hardened look. “I think you should leave, Trailer Trash.”

As Ashton was starting to step down the stairs, he turned around to glance at Sweet Pea once more, a look of sadness washing over his face. “You always said you’d wait, Sweet Pea, no matter what. You lied to me,” Ashton whispered the last part, scared that if he said it any louder, he would cry, which he did not want to do. Sliding back into Calum’s car, he let out an exasperated sigh and ran his fingers through his hair.

“For what it’s worth, mate, you still have us,” Calum said, trying to lighten up the mood.

Ashton whipped his head to Calum, “shut the fuck up and drive, Hood.”

             -------

“So he just showed up three years later—fresh out of jail—to… what? Try to get you back?” Rosie asked. Rosie was Sweet Pea’s long term best friend who knew every nook and cranny of Sweet Pea’s history with Ashton. It wasn’t hard to see the confusion in her eyes, this wasn’t a normal situation.

Sweet Pea swirled the tea around in her mug as they sat in the small diner on the Northside of town. Ever since Ashton was jailed, Sweet Pea steered clear of the Southside, scared that she might run into Ashton’s gang. “Yes! Then Johnny tried to pick a fight with him, calling him Trailer Trash and Greaseball, it just- it wasn’t good, Rose.”

“I can’t fucking stand Johnny.”

“Rose!”

“Well, it’s true. He needs to get off his high horse. You’ve been with him for, what, 11 months? You were with Ashton for 4 and a half years! Johnny doesn’t have shit on him,” Rosie expressed. Truth be told, Sweet Pea did feel something when she saw Ashton for the first time in three years. He was the first man she ever loved; he taught her how to be daring, showed her what true passion was. She could never forget that, no matter how much she wanted to.

She was angry at Ashton for getting himself locked up, yes, but he didn’t deserve to be dragged the way Johnny did. “I-I have to go, Rose. There’s something I need to take care of,” Sweet Pea blurted as she abruptly stood up from the booth and placed a few dollars on the table for her tea. She needed to talk to Ashton, to hear him out, without Johnny around. She didn’t know how she was going to do it, but dammit, it needed to happen soon.

             -------

“I’m sorry about that, man,” said Calum to his best friend, “what happened at Sweet Pea’s house this morning was uncalled for, you didn’t deserve that.” Calum was right. What happened at Sweet Pea’s house was uncalled for, but there was nothing he could do about it. Ashton appreciated having a friend like Calum though, he was always there and although sometimes he’s a little moody, he always made sure his friends and family were taken care of.

“It’s okay, Cal,” Ashton reassured. He sighed, he didn’t know what he could do to get her back, not when she’s with that fuckboy preppy. “I just-- I need to take my mind off of her. Would you mind taking me to my parents house? I need to apologize for not talking to them for three years.”

“Ashton--”

“I don’t have time to argue about this. Just take me, please, Calum,” Ashton pleaded. Calum obliged, as the two men walked out of Calum’s small apartment.

Pulling up to Ashton’s family home, he felt the same excitement and worry he felt as when they pulled up to Sweet Pea’s house earlier that day. Ashton didn’t keep in contact with his family while he was in jail, too afraid of the disappointment and the stress he’d be putting his mother and siblings through. As Calum’s car sat on the curb, Ashton stayed staring at the house. There was a different car in the driveway, which Ashton just waved off as the possibility of his mother purchasing a new car. But then he saw it. The curtains were drawn back and he had the perfect view of the inside of the house, where he saw a little old man cross into the living room and sit in a big arm chair that he also did not recognize. Ashton was… confused, to say the least. “What in the,” he whispered to himself as he unbuckled his seat belt.

“What are you doing, Ash?” Calum questioned, ready to stop his friend from going and scaring this poor old man.

Ashton looked at Calum for a split second before directing his stare back at the house. “I need to see who that is and why the fuck he’s in my mother’s house.” As Ashton was getting ready to open the car door, Calum placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Listen, man, this is going to be hard to hear,” said Calum, “your family moved out of town about a year and a half ago, nobody knows why or where they moved to.” At this, shock took over Ashton’s body. He slowly pulled the car door closed and sat there, shell shocked. His family left him.

“Th-They left me?” Ashton said in the smallest voice. Ashton wasn’t one to cry but dammit, this was the straw that broke the camel's back.

“Ash—“

“No, Calum, they fuckin’ left me! First, the love of my life decides to replace me with some preppy asshole and now my family up and left me! I have no one, man, no one!” Wiping a few stray tears off his cheeks, Ashton sniffled and the look on his face hardened.

“Ashton, you’re not alone, mate. You have me, you know my apartment is open to you,” Calum said quietly, “why don’t we get drinks tonight, huh? Might do ya some good.”

The ride to the bar was filled with silence, neither of them knowing the correct words to say. Ashton was a little more on edge, with good reason. The ride seemed to be going on a little longer than Ashton had remembered, noticing that they entered the part of town where Luke and Michael lived. Luke and Michael lived more on the Eastside of town, whereas Calum—and now Ashton—lived on the Southside of Grand Haven. “What are we doing, man?” Ashton asked, “I thought we were going to the bar.”

“We are, Ash, we’re just doing something first,” Calum assured him.

At this point, Ashton could add skeptical to the list of emotions he was currently feeling. “I can see that, but my question was what are we doing?” Ashton emphasized the question, hoping that Calum would catch onto the hint of annoyance in his voice. Calum did not.

“Just-- you’ll see, mate,” Calum said to his best friend, “you’ll see.”

Ashton sighed. “I fucking hate surprises, Hood.”

It turns out that exactly what Ashton thought was happening, was happening. They had picked up Michael and Luke to join them at the bar for the night. He wasn’t explicitly angry, he loved Michael and Luke to pieces, he just hadn’t told them that he was released from prison, much less anything else that was currently going on.

The rest of the car ride was awkward, to say the least. It was filled with small talk, mostly from Calum and the other two, with occasional head nods from Ashton to show he was still down on Earth with them. Every once and awhile, one of the boys would attempt to converse with Ashton about how he was doing, with no prevail.

About three hours later, Ashton was feeling light on his feet. He typically wasn’t one to get drunk quickly but not having a single drink for three years really changes a person's tolerance. Although he was feeling better, his thoughts were still consumed by Sweet Pea. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to get up begin walking towards the exit of the bar, leather jacket in hand, but that’s exactly what he was doing. He didn’t get far, as one of the boys tried to grab his bicep to stop him. “Whoa, whoa, whoa where are you going, mate?” Michael asked, trying to pull his friend back to where everyone else was.

“I’m goin-- I just need a breath of fresh air, mate,” Ashton said, “I’ll be back.” Knowing that he couldn’t keep him from going outside, Michael let him. As Ashton was standing outside, it seemed as if his brain and his feet were moving on autopilot. He wasn’t sure if what he was doing was the right thing, but the alcohol in his system was telling him otherwise. The bar they were currently at was located in the central part of Grand Haven, towards the back, but Ashton has made this walk many a time. The February air was quite chilly tonight, but his leather jacket kept him warm enough, as well as the alcohol in him. Walking down the street, Ashton was all in his head. He wasn’t quite sure of what he was going to say yet, he just knew he had to go to her.

About halfway to the Northside of town, the once busy streets of Grand Haven began to quiet down, as everyone was off of work and inside their homes. It was beginning to get colder as well, as it was nearing the later part of night. The walk from the bar to Sweet Pea’s house wasn’t very far, it was just taking Ashton longer since he was intoxicated and worrying about how he was walking so he wouldn’t trip and fall. He was so caught up in his own mind, he almost didn’t register the hand slamming on his shoulder. “Cal, mate--”

“Did you not hear me, Greaseball?” Ashton turned around to be face to face with some random townie. “Go back to your dumpster.”

Ashton blinked, suddenly it seemed as if the alcohol in his veins was leaving his body. “Excuse me?” He was confused for two reasons: why this person decided to bother him, and why in the hell did this townie think it was fine putting his hands on him?

“You don’t belong here,” the townie once again repeated. Ashton felt his face heat up, who was this person to say whether or not he belonged somewhere? Why does it matter? What was Ashton doing that bothered this person so much?

“Sorry you feel that way, mate,” Ashton said, “bye.” The townie obviously wasn’t pleased with Ashton’s tone of voice, seeing as he once again grabbed his shoulder and shoved him. If Ashton wasn’t already fuming, he sure in hell was now. As he turned around, he scowled at the person behind him. “What the fu--”

Ashton’s words were met with a fist straight to his mouth. Is this piece of shit townie really trying to pick a fight? It didn’t take long for him to react, swinging at the townie himself. Ashton let the anger that had been boiling in his body all day take over, swinging relentlessly at the guy, receiving a few punches to the gut and cheek himself. Ashton wasn’t going to stop until the man was on the floor and would leave him alone. With a few more swings to the stomach and chin, the townie was sent to the ground groaning. “Fucking hell,” Ashton muttered as he turned around to leave the man on the ground.

“You’re on the wrong side of town,” the townie groaned as he stood to his feet. Shouldn’t I be saying that? Ashton thought in his head as he turned around to once again come face to face with the townie. How in the fuck did he get up? The townie snickered, “you’re gonna regret coming back.” He reached into the pocket of his blue jeans and pulled out a switchblade, smirking at Ashton.

“What the fuck?” Ashton said, stepping back. The townie stepped forwards once again, swinging the switchblade, slashing him on his stomach. Ashton doubled over in pain, hand gripping his stomach. The townie swung again, this time slitting Ashton’s cheek. Shit, if Ashton thought he was in pain now, this was excruciating.

The townie crouched down to Ashton’s level, smirking, “you’re trash,” he spat, “go back to prison where you belong.”

             -------

The sound of the doorbell startled Sweet Pea from the half sleep state she was in. She glanced at the clock on the wall above the television set, 2:54 AM. She blinked a couple times, wondering who was at the door at such a late hour into the night. She flicked on the porch light, looking through the peephole. Ashton. It’s Ashton.

Sweet Pea quickly unlocked the front door and swung it open, to reveal a hurt Ashton. He half smiled upon seeing her, as that was all he could do without doubling over in pain. “Ashton,” she began, pulling her robe tighter around her as the chilly February breeze hit her unexpectedly, “are you okay? Let me take a look at you.”

Listening to her, Ashton sauntered over to Sweet Pea. She lifted her hands, running her fingers along his cheek, where the new slash made home. As her finger ran across it, Ashton hissed “Gentle, love,” he whispered, afraid that if he spoke too loud he’d scare the small, doe-eyed woman in front of him.

“Come on, let's get you cleaned up, okay?” She asked, carefully gripping his bicep so she could pull him inside her house. Sweet Pea lead him into the small kitchen and had him sit the table so she could get the first aid kit to tend to his wounds. Walking over to him ripping open an alcohol pad with his teeth, she looked into Ashton’s eyes for the first time that night. There was something in them she couldn’t exactly pinpoint; she didn’t know what she was doing. Here she was in her kitchen, cleaning up her ex-boyfriend-slash-ex-con after what seemed to be a bad fight at nearly 3 AM. “This is going to sting a little,” she warned him before bringing the alcohol wipe to his split lip to clean off the dried blood. Once again Ashton hissed, pleading Sweet Pea to be gentle, to which she replied with a small smile.

“I’m sorry,” Ashton started, “I shouldn’t have come to bother you, love.”

Sweet Pea sighed, “what happened to you?”

“I was at the bar with Calum and the boys and I needed to come see yo--”

“No, Ashton,” she said to him with her eyes shut as if she was trying to figure out what the right words were to say, “I’m not talking about tonight. I’m talking about in general. What happened to the man I once knew? My Ashton would not have gotten himself locked up.”

“Sweet Pea, please,” Ashton said. He’d been waiting to tell her why he got put into prison in the first place for the longest time, he just… he didn’t know how. How was he supposed to tell the love of his life that he was caught shoplifting when he already had a warrant on a tagging charge? “This is gonna be really hard for me to say, doll,” Ashton told the woman in front of him, looking at him with a sense of worry that Ashton could detect a mile away, “I was arrested on a petty theft charge when I already had a warrant out for tagging.”

“You… what? You had a warrant out for your arrest?” Sweet Pea was in shock, to say the least. She hung her head, pinching the bridge of her nose. Ashton had never felt more guilt for anything in his entire life and seeing Sweet Pea this incredibly disappointed in him made everything worse. “What’d you try n’ steal, Ash?”

“What?” Ashton asked, taken aback by her words.

“You heard me,” she said, “what did you try to steal?”

Ashton took a deep breath, “medication for Harry.” Little Harry Dawkins was Ashton’s youngest sibling, only twelve at the time of Ashton’s arrest. “He was-he was sick. Mum couldn’t afford the medication for him, I couldn’t afford the medication for him. I wasn’t going to let my little brother be in pain, doll, you know how much my siblings mean to me,” Ashton said quietly, lowering his head in shame. He looked at the floor and then slowly raised his head to make eye contact with Sweet Pea. “I’m angry at myself for getting arrested and leaving my family and leaving you for three years, but I’d do it again. If it meant Harry or Lauren or you were getting what you needed, then fuck, I’d steal anything.”

Sweet Pea felt her stomach tie itself into knots at his words. Ashton always has been a family man. “I understand,” she told him, “you shouldn’t have stolen, though. You could have come to me, love, my parents would’ve been more than happy to get Harry the medication, they have the money for it.”

“I was supposed to provide for you, Sweet Pea, not the other way around,” Ashton said, head hanging low once again.

As much as she would like to suppress it, Sweet Pea couldn’t ignore the feelings she still felt for Ashton in her heart. This was the man she was with for almost five years, how could she not still feel something for him? Sure, he was in jail for three years and she’s with Johnny now but she couldn’t help but think of that would happen if she gave Johnny, and possibly her family up, all for Ashton.

By that morning, Ashton was long gone. Sweet Pea offered for him to sleep on the couch, seeing as he was in no shape to be on his own, which he was thankful for, he just didn’t want her family to find him in the morning. After she cleaned him up, they spent hours catching up and laughing about old stories from when they were still together. Although he wasn’t afraid to admit it, he was scared of his feelings for Sweet Pea. He knew he still loved her, of course he did, but she was with someone new and he had to respect that. As much as he wanted to swoop her into his arms and kiss both of their pain away, he knew that’d only cause more tension.

             -------

Ashton walked into the small diner that morning, he quickly caught sight of his three friends sitting in a booth towards the back. As he was walking to them, Luke looked up and smiled when he saw his friend. “Hey, fellas,” Ashton said as he slid into the booth next to Luke. Looking at the boys, Ashton could tell that Michael was nursing a hangover, as well as Luke.

“What happened to you last night?” Calum asked Ashton, “you can’t just disappear like that, man.You look horrible.” Ashton let out a huff. He knew that Calum was just looking out for his best interest, but holy shit, Ashton was a grown man who could take care of himself. Worry about yourself, Calum.

“I went to see Sweet Pea,” Ashton started. Upon hearing that, all of the boys suddenly perked up. “On my way there, some random townie stopped me, talking about how I was in the ‘wrong part of town’ and then pulled a fucking blade on me.” As soon as he said the word blade, Michael’s eyes went wide.

“Dude, are you okay?” Michael asked.

Ashton laughed, “I’m fine, mate,” he said to Michael, “Sweet Pea cleaned my wounds for me.”

“Sweet Pea? She took care of you?” Calum asked, almost as if he didn’t believe what Ashton was saying. What’s that supposed to mean? Ashton tried to hide his annoyance, but he wasn’t always the best at hiding his facial expressions.

“Yes, Calum, she took care of me. After that we talked for hours. I explained what happened to her and then we spent some time catching up,” Ashton said, “it was really nice.”

“You sound like a lovesick puppy,” Luke chuckled.

“So what if I’m in love? It’s not like my feelings for her have faded away at all,” Ashton raised his voice. Who were they to criticize him spending time with Sweet Pea? Why did it matter if he was still in love with Sweet Pea or not?

“Mate, we’re not trying to piss you off or anything,” Luke started, “but you need to take a look at the situation. She’s in a relationship with someone else, who she probably loves. I know this is hard to hear, but you need to accept the fact that maybe she’s moved on from you.”

             -------

“Mom, I need your advice,” said Sweet Pea, walking into the living room where her mother was sat in her chair with a cup of tea.

“Of course,” her mother said, setting down the romance novel she’d been reading. Sweet Pea’s mother was always the one person she knew she could always count on. Her mother gave the best advice which always had her best interest in mind.

“Don’t get mad at me, mom,” Sweet Pea said to her mother who now had furrowed eyebrows, “Ashton was over last night,” As soon as she mentioned Ashton, her mother's face went to normal, her lips forming into a small smile.

“I know that, honey,” her mother said, “I could hear your guy’s quiet laughter.”

“Mom!” Sweet Pea yelled, covering her face with her hands. “I need to ask you a question.”

“Shoot,” her mother already could guess what Sweet Pea was going to ask, but didn’t want to prod at her daughter, she wanted Sweet Pea to come to those revelations herself.

“When Ashton and I were talking, I-I felt something. Something that I haven’t ever felt being with Johnny,” Sweet Pea started. She wasn’t sure how exactly how to word her feelings to her mother, or even to herself. “I think-I think--”

“You’re still in love with Ashton,” Sweet Pea’s mother finished for her. As soon as the words escaped her mom’s mouth, her eyes went wide. “Don’t worry, sweetie, I already knew. How could you not still be in love with him? You were with him for almost five years, you wanted to plan a future with the man,” her mother said, and she was right. Before Ashton was jailed, Sweet Pea had sat down with both of her parents, explaining that she was in love with the ill-tempered Greaser who she saw a complete future with.

“I don’t know what to do, Mom,” Sweet Pea whispered, hanging her head down in frustration.

“You tell him, dear,”  her mother said, “love is too beautiful of a thing to let go like that. If you don’t tell Ashton how you feel and you stay with Johnny, you’re going to regret that for the rest of your life.”

Sweet Pea took a deep breath, her mother was right. I need to tell Ashton, I need to tell Ashton, I need to tell Ashton. The sentence kept repeating itself in her head over and over again until they didn’t sound like words anymore. But what about Johnny? “Mom,” Sweet Pea said, “what about Johnny? Isn’t it not fair to him for me to leave him for someone he considers ‘trailer trash’?”

“It’s more fair for you to leave the relationship now then it’d be if you stayed with him while in love with another man,” her mother said. Sweet Pea always knew her mother had great advice, but it only seems that she is purely talking from the heart right now.

“Mom, you are really passionate about this,” she laughed at her mother. Her mother smiled fondly, looking over to photo of her and her husband.

“Honey, I was in another relationship when I realized I was in love with your father. If I wouldn’t have left that other man, I wouldn’t have your father and more importantly, I wouldn’t have you,” her mother explained. Sweet Pea wasn’t in shock, as opposed to just in awe of her mother. “You need to fight for love, Sweet Pea. And let me tell you, Ashton Irwin is worth fighting for.”

             -------

A little over a week later, Johnny was sat at the dinner table with Sweet Pea and her parents. She’d been acting a little out of character tonight, with good reason. She had given a lot of thought to what her mother said and yes, she was going to end things with Johnny and confess her feelings to Ashton. How could she not? It wasn’t that Johnny wasn’t good to her, she just didn’t share the same chemistry with him that she has with Ashton.

The family ate in silence, the awkward tension rising in the room. Johnny very awkwardly cleared his throat and looked at Sweet Pea’s parents. “If I could have everyone’s attention, please,” he asked as he stood up from his seat, directing his attention to a very awkward looking Sweet Pea. “Sweet Pea, I love you. I know we haven’t been together very long, but I know we’re here to stay,” Johnny began, causing Sweet Pea and her mother’s eyes to almost bulge out of their heads. This cannot be happening. Sweet Pea whipped her head over to her mother, who was staring down at her plate, pushing the pot roast around. Helpful.

“Johnny, what are you doing?” She asked him. She had a feeling of what he was going to do, but she didn’t want to believe that’s what actually was happening.

Johnny sighed. “Let me finish, Sweet Pea,” he demanded. For someone who’s confessing their love, he’s awfully rude. “As I was saying, I wanna spend the rest of my life with you,” he said, moving from his seat the kneel in front of her. Sweet Pea couldn’t contain the gasp escaping from her mouth, as well as her mother. This was not happening right now. “Please, please, please marry me, Sweet Pea.”

She looked into his eyes for the first time that evening. This wasn’t the future she saw for herself. She didn’t see her elf as being a little housewife for a man who didn’t even appreciate her; she saw herself with someone who wants better for her and someone who was okay with the fact that Sweet Pea didn’t want the stereotypical family. Sweet Pea saw herself with someone much like Ashton. “I-I… Johnny, I need to talk to you,” she looked over at her parents, “alone.”

Sweet Pea’s parents excused themselves to the backyard, while Sweet Pea stayed seated in her chair. Johnny stood up and began pacing, which made Sweet Pea even more nervous. “What are we talking about?” Johnny asked, stopping so he was standing in front of her once again.

“Johnny,” Sweet Pea started nervously, “I don’t know how to tell you this.”

Johnny furrowed his eyebrows together, “tell me what?” His tone sounded a little harsher than Sweet Pea would like, not that she was surprised.

Sweet Pea closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. It’s now or never. Opening her eyes, she muttered, “I can’t marry you, Johnny.” As soon as the words fell past her lips, Johnny’s eyes went wide and his once blank stare was hardened.

“Oh yeah?” Johnny started, venom lacing his words. “And why is that?”

“I don’t- I don’t love you…” Sweet Pea whispered.

At that sentence, Johnny scoffed. “You don’t love me?” he shouted. “Who do you love? Hmm? I wanna know the truth.”

“Johnny, I-I--”

“No I know who, you love that fuckin’ Greaseball, don’t you?” he sneered. “That piece of shit can’t provide for you. I don’t know why you think that being with him is going to be easy, Sweet Pea,” Johnny laughed, “if you’d marry me, you wouldn’t have to work a day in your life. That Greaser can’t offer you that. You’ll be working more than he does.”

Sweet Pea stood up from her seat, blood boiling that he could ever talk about someone so amazing in such a demeaning tone. “You know what, Johnny? Yeah, I do love that ‘fuckin’ Greaseball’, who’s name is Ashton, by the way. That man has shown me more love in the four and a half years I was with them than an entire lifetime with you,” she spat. Johnny looked a little taken aback at the newfound attitude Sweet Pea has acquired. “Before you judge someone, why don’t you actually get to know them? Ashton has more kindness in his pinkie than you have in your entire body, his smile can light up a room, and fuck, you can lose yourself in that man’s eyes for hours.” She didn’t know why she was telling Johnny all of this, perhaps she was more so talking to herself at this point than to him. “I love that ill-tempered man with the sweetest heart,” she ended, looking back at Johnny’s hardened face, feeling absolutely disgusted with herself for putting up with him for as long as she did. Shaking her head, she began to walk down the hallway where her bedroom door was. Looking back one last time, she smirked, “you can leave now, Johnny.” And like that, she single handedly realized two things: Johnny was a piece of shit and that she was sure that Ashton Irwin was the love of her life.

             -------

“You sure you don’t wanna go out with us, mate?” Calum asked Ashton. The boys had all been trying to convince Ashton to go to the bar with them again, but Ashton couldn’t bring himself to go.

Ashton flashed a small smile at his friends, “why don’t you guys just go? I’ll be fine here.” Not wanting to waste any more time, Calum just nodded and bid his best friend goodbye. Ashton sighed to himself, happy that he was finally alone.

Ever since the night that Sweet Pea took care of him, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. She was already always consuming his thoughts, now it was taken to the next level. He found that night at Sweet Pea’s house to be very therapeutic, knowing that it was probably time for her to know the truth.

For the next hour and a half or so, Ashton stared at the small black and white television set Calum had set up in the living room. The movie Casablanca was playing and Ashton couldn’t help but feel a sense of sadness. Sweet Pea absolutely loves this movie with her entire being, always watching it when it came on the television and of course forcing Ashton to watch it with her. Towards the end of the movie, there was a knock on the door, startling Ashton out of the relaxation he was previously feeling.

Standing up from the couch, Ashton went to the door and looked out the peephole. It can’t be. As if acting on autopilot, he swung the door open to reveal Sweet Pea. He looked her up and down, taking note of the upset look on her face. “Sweet Pea, love, why are you here?” Ashton asked her.

She looked up into his hazel eyes, and knew that it was time. “I need to talk to you, Ash,” she said to him, “it’s important.”

Upon hearing those words, Ashton’s heart rate picked up and he stood to the side, ushering Sweet Pea into Calum’s apartment. She looked around for a second, her eyes landing on the television set. “You’re watching Casablanca,” she smiled softly.

“Your favorite movie,” Ashton said to her. Sweet Pea turned her head away from the television and to Ashton once again in complete awe. He remembered.

As Ashton took a seat on the couch, Sweet Pea went over and sat down next to him. She didn’t exactly know how to tell him, but it shouldn’t be that hard, right? She had gotten over the obstacle of telling Johnny, but now she was faced with her biggest obstacle of all: telling Ashton her feelings. “So,” she awkwardly began, “Johnny proposed to me.”

Ashton’s eyes widened for a moment. She was goin’ to marry that piece of shit? “Oh-oh yeah? How’d that g--”

“I told him no, Ashton,” she interrupted him. Just then, she felt her breathing go slow. Ashton, on the other hand, swallowed one of the many lumps in his throat. “I told him no,” she repeated again, softer this time.

“You did?” Ashton asked. “Why?”

“Because he’s not the one I love,” she said, looking down at her lap. Sweet Pea looked up, looking gazes with Ashton, the confused expression very clearly painted on his face.

“He’s not the one you love…” Ashton pondered out loud, more to himself than to her.

Without thinking, Sweet Pea whispered, “I love you.” Had it not incredibly quiet in the apartment, the only noise coming from the television that was basically muted, Ashton could’ve missed the three words he’s been waiting to hear for the past three years. “You-you what? Really?” he asked.

Sweet Pea smiled, finally happy that she got what’s been eating her alive for the past week out into the open. “Of course I do, Ash,” she said, reaching her hand out to grasp his, “it’s you. It’s always been you.”

Ashton looked at her in complete and utter shock. He couldn’t believe that she actually said it to him. Sure, he knew she probably still had a little bit of love for her, but she was really good at hiding it. He closed his eyes, basking in the moment for a second. It was what Sweet Pea said next that made everything feel real.

“Ashton,” she said, catching him out of his own thoughts. “Kiss me. Kiss me as if it were the last time.” She was quoting the movie, and the line couldn’t be more fitting for the moment.

Ashton collided his lips with Sweet Pea’s in what seemed like the most desperate, romantic, lustful, and overdue kiss either one of them had ever experienced. It was rushed, but slow. Sloppy, yet beautiful. Neither of them had even realized that in all this time, this was what they needed.

They kissed each other as if their lives depended on it, and before too long, they were shedding one another of their clothing. Ashton’s head was spinning, as this was the happiest he’s felt in the last three years. Heaven. This must be what Heaven feels like.

When Sweet Pea rid herself of her top, Ashton’s pink lips attached to her chest, sucking and marking her as his, leaving a fiery trail in his wake. Sweet Pea let a moan escape her lips, which was music to Ashton’s ears. He could feel himself getting more and more excited as the minutes were passing by, the excitement building in his stomach.

When Ashton flipped the two of them, so she was now beneath him, he finally pulled down both his trousers and his boxers in one swift movement. Ashton sighed at the simple relief he found from just freeing himself from the confines of his pants. He then pulled Sweet Pea’s pants and underwear down and sat up, smiling at her. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he said to her, making the heat rise to her cheeks as she pulled Ashton by his face down to hers to catch him in a messy kiss. As their lips moved in sync, Ashton trailed his hand down her body, stopping at her heat. When he slipped his fingers through her folds, Sweet Pea let out a squeaky moan, fueling Ashton to go further. “You’re so wet for me, doll,” he rasped lowly, “just for me.”

“Just for you,” she quietly moaned. Her moans grew louder and louder and Ashton began to pump his finger in and out of her, preparing her enough to handle his length. When Ashton decided to finally stop building the anticipation, he reached over to the coffee table and pulled the condom from his wallet. Sweet Pea chuckled, “I hope that condom isn’t three years old.” Ashton chuckled back at her awkward comment, sliding the condom on and lining himself up at her entrance.

He looked down at Sweet Pea, clutching her hips and finally pushing himself into her, earning a loud moan from her, to which Ashton replied with a low growl. As Ashton began to thrust, he felt all of his problems fade away. Here he was, with the woman he loves, who loves him back, sharing one of their most romantic moments. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

They were a mess of tongue, sweat, and the sound of skin slapping skin mixed with her soft moans became the soundtrack to the moment. Sweet Pea was nearing her orgasm, Ashton chasing his own, with his thrusts becoming less rhythmic and sloppier.

As Sweet Pea reached her high, squealing a moan, Ashton wasn’t far behind her. Letting a few curse words fall past his lips, he reached his own high with a sigh of relief. When he pulled out of her, Sweet Pea let out a quiet gasp from the sudden empty feeling. Ashton pulled off his condom, throwing it into the trash bin across the living room, taking time to pull on his boxers. He once again took his place on the couch and handed Sweet Pea her panties and his t-shirt, in case the boys came back earlier than he hoped.

And as Ashton and Sweet Pea were laying on the couch, post-sex, neither one of them had ever been more in love than in this moment. He placed a sweet kiss to her forehead, which was lightly covered in sweat, to which Sweet Pea cuddled deeper into his side. “I love you,” he whispered to her, “so fuckin’ much.”

Sweet Pea smiled up at him, “I love you more.”

taglist: @cosmocalum @roselukes @hotmessmichael @fucking5sos @calumculture @ohhmuke @ghostofch @kinglycalum @notoriouslyhood @slimthicccal @calntynes @astroashtonio @glitterprincelu @catchinqcalum @irwinkitten @talkfastfletcher @monsteramongmikey @hereforlukescruff

feedback is appreciated!

[sprydecreates]

wedding bells

requested by: no one :)

warnings: angst (break up), language

pairings: shawn mendes x reader

type: headcanon/list; gender neutral (doesn’t use any pronouns)

summary: after a brutal break up, shawn is there to pick you up, and then some.

a/n: i know.... i keep weaving in and out of tumblr...... oh well. had this idea in mind and i really liked it. hope it’s not too bad ♡

flash back friday

you and shawn met in elementary school due to a school project called flat stanley, where you send a little paper character to someone you know and have them take stanley through their lives for a bit.

your family knew shawn’s, and so you two were introduced for the first time.

since you two were kids, you didn’t really have a way to keep in contact with each other.

good thing for you, you two were reunited in middle school, when shawn’s family came in for a visit.

finally, you two were able to keep in contact, and you remained good friends until high school.

until meaning, you didn’t have anyone to bring to prom, and you invited shawn

which, of course, caused a whole cliche like “he saw me walk down the stairs and fell in love”, but deadass. like that’s really what happened. boy seen you all pampered and dressed up, and did the whole “..wow” with the little heart eyes and had that little blushy patch shining through

soon after, he asked how you felt about long distance relationships while on facetime.

hoping he’d take the hint, you said “there’s really only one person i’d see myself with that’s far away” and take him through a “well he’s like eight feet tall, has brown hair and brown eyes, kinda sarcastic but will cry if he thinks he hurt someones feelings, shall i go on?” 

and hes OblIviOus right. genuinely thinks you’re talking about some celeb you’ve stanned for a couple of months. so he’s just like “uh, if you want. you seem happy about him, so i’m glad you’re happy”

and you pull a “yeah, you do make me happy”

WHEW BOEH

this sweetie raises his eyebrows and widens his eyes, Finally realizing you’re going on about him, and he’s like, “huh..?”

“did you seriously think i wouldn’t notice you rubbing little hearts into the back of my hand on the way to prom?”

“i mean yeah but that’s on my side, i didn’t realize that you liked me back??”

“i was sure you’d take the hint when i said i’d love to have a boyfriend like you”

“y/n you Know how bad i am at taking hints”

“yeah, i know, now.”

and that started the talking phase, which only lasted Maybe a month and a half before you two started dating.

you and shawn dated from senior year up until freshman year of college.

you stayed in your own state because of the in-state tuition, and shawn stayed in canada to be closer to his family

because you two were now considered to be in the ‘real world’ and actually had to fend for your own in a sense, you two became super busy, and rarely got a chance to speak to each other.

this eventually lead to you two breaking up, as you couldn’t keep up with each other at this speed, and distance.

you both agreed to give each other some air, and continue talking when the other had enough time to heal.

but, out of fear that the other hadn’t had enough time to get themselves together, neither of you contacted the other and the friendship fell through.

present time

two years have passed, and you are now in a relationship with your fiance.

yes, you read that right. f i a n c e.

you didn’t necessarily think it’d happen, either.

after your friendship with shawn fell through, you downloaded tinder, and matched with (y/f/n). you decided “eh, why not” and now you’re here.

you didn’t really even want to marry this dude this fast, but he brought you to a popular and packed, expensive restaurant with his entire immediate family, and popped the question while using a microphone. how fun, totally not anxiety driven and absolutely not embarrassing :)

but, since shawn, you were having doubts of finding someone else. so, this was like a last shot for you, in a sense.

but, here you are, and it’s about four months from the wedding date.

nothing is written in stone, apart from the venue

you were going through your contacts, finding out who you were going to invite.

down the line, shawn popped up.

what were you going to do now?

you wanted to invite shawn because, hello, he had been apart of your life since  e l e m e n t a r y  s c h o o l. you couldn’t just marry someone and ten years down the road bring it up like “hey yea sorry about not inviting you :/ thought it’d be awkward ://////”

but then again, your fiance was well aware of your history with shawn. it’s not like he was going to leave you at the alter if shawn came, but you were still a bit iffy considering (y/f/n) is a little insecure when it comes to you talking to other guys.

despite feeling off about you, you decided to message shawn anyway, and inform him of whats going on

2:43 PM: “hey shawn!”

2:51 PM: “(Y/n)?”

2:53 PM: “yeah?”

2:57 PM: “Hey! I was just making sure this was still your number. I didn’t have it deleted on purpose, just got a new phone about two months ago.”

3:04 PM: “no problem, sorry we haven’t talked in a bit. how are you?”

3:10 PM: “Pretty good, how are you?”

3:13 PM: “i’m doing well, i actually just got engaged not too long ago!”

3:35 PM: “Oh, yeah, I noticed that. Congrats”

3:40 PM: “:( you okay?”

4:15 PM: “Just confused as to why I’m being told this like four months since it happened.”

4:20 PM: “I wanted to tell you, i just didn’t know how to bring it up in a normal conversation. that and my fiance is a bit weird about us talking.”

4:24 PM: “What do you mean weird?”

4:28 PM: “he just gets freaked”

4:33 PM: “Lol I don’t know why he’d get upset at you messaging me just to tell me that you’re getting married to him. Seems like he’s scared.”

4:39 PM: “idk. anyway, i was wondering if you’d like to be invited?”

the conversation went on for half the evening before you both said goodnight and went to sleep.

you were woken up by (y/f/n) standing over you with your phone in his hand.

“(y/f/n)? what is it?”

he had his eyebrows raised in a ‘caught you’ type of way, peering down at you and practically shoving your phone into your face, “what’s this about shawn?”

you let out a short but forceful breath through your nose, “what about it? and why are you in my phone-”

“‘can’t wait to see you’? ‘i think he’s scared’? what the fuck is that about?”

you were sat up in your bed by now, as he had spent the night at your place, “what the fuck about it, (y/f/n)? he used to be one of my closest friends, i’m not going to skip out on inviting him-”

“oh but you don’t back me up when he thinks i’m scared of him? or when he talks shit about my family?”

“all he said was he figured you proposed that way?! why are you freaking out over this?”

“why aren’t YOU freaking out- you know what. i’m gonna head out.”

and with that, he left.

a few weeks and after several arguments later, you officially changed your relationship status to ‘single’ on facebook.

shawn was one of the first to message and ask if you were okay.

you explained everything that had happened, and how you drunkenly figured out (y/f/n) had hooked up with his ex because “if you get to fuck someone else so do i”. even though   . you and shawn haven’t been face to face in like two years  . ok

not even a week later, shawn was at your front door with two weeks worth of clothes packed.

the first few days were reserved for him to kind of hold you, and make sure you were alright. you were sad it was over, and angry that he cheated and used an assumption to do so.

on the third day, though you finally opened up about the situation that lead to the breakup.

you and shawn were on your couch, and it was about midnight. you had been on the topic of busted relationships, and that’s when you felt like it was appropriate to complain, “i’m just, so, confused? like i don’t know what went wrong with it.”

shawn, who had always been real with you, decided to add his opinion in, “he wasn’t ever right for you, from what all you’ve told me.”

you sighed and shook your head, waving your hands in a defeated motion, “i know, he wasn’t ever my type. it’s just, we made a life together,” shawn made a disapproving hum, but kept his words to himself, “and yeah he was kind of a bitch, and his family was really weird and acted like they were better than me, and,” you continued for roughly fifteen more seconds before shawn interrupted

“(y/n), do you hear yourself?” he held his hand sternly against his half crossed legs. you didn’t speak, as you thought he would continue, “you sound like you were living in an imaginary jail cell. there’s more bad than good about him, and i get that usually happens after a breakup, but i’ve heard what, TWO good things about him since i’ve been here? if he’s as bad as you make him seem, which i completely believe, then you’re better off without him.”

you held your head down, staring at the floor while shawn continued on, and spoke softly when he was finished, “i know i probably am, i just can’t wrap my head around why he cheated. he was supposed to love me, and i feel like it was my fault this all ended-”

“it wasn’t ever your fault (y/n).”

“i just-”

“no, listen to me. this man proposed in front of his family because he knew you’d get nervous and say yes so you wouldn’t cause a scene. then when he realized you wouldn’t obey his every order, he didn’t want you anymore. he wanted you to say you were a fixer upper and that HE was the one to help you. but you helped yourself, and he hated that. he literally left you out of nowhere JUST because you invited me, someone you hadn’t spoken to but for mere minutes each year to wish me a happy birthday or new years. then he immediately went and hooked up with an ex, that didn’t you say he lied about talking to at the start of your relationship?”

“yeah but-”

“i don’t mean to interrupt all the time, but there’s not any buts to be had. he realized you weren’t going to be his trophy wife, and he resorted to his ex, who he knew would be there. you’re better off, (y/n). it might take some time, but it’s true.”

you sat in silence for a couple of minutes, taking in all that shawn had said. and, he was right. that piece of shit left you, YOU, all because you invited your ex to an event that bounded you and your fiance together. so, fuck him, and everything he made you go through.

the rest of the night was spent with you and shawn making fun of (y/f/n).

what the future holds

next thing you knew, you and shawn had graduated from college, and (y/f/n) proposed to his ex. but you hadn’t been thinking about him much, especially since shawn had gotten back into your life.

you two were actually looking through apartments up in michigan, and planned to move in with each other by july.

now, you two did this in order to ‘save money’. in reality, two months passed and you two started to catch feelings, again. whooooo would’ve guessed that was going to happen?

regardless, you didn’t mind, and shawn certainly didn’t either.

come to find out, your relationship status changed to ‘in a relationship’ with shawn not even six months after moving in with each other!

your relationship was really sweet, to say the least.

lots of reassurance from shawn, most of the time it was random

temple kisses while you were working on something for your internship to let you know he supported you

really careful and patient when you were stressing out

little “i love you”’s at the most random times. kind of like extra greetings from kurtis conner

tons of showing off, something (y/f/n) never really done

shawn was Extra. like he made a while ass snapchat story dedicated to you because he couldn’t get enough of you

his headers on his social media were always related to your relationship

just genuinely heart warming things

continuation of the heart tracing on your hand (you later on got a tattoo of a heart on the hand he held the most)

he’d get shy when you’d compliment his singing, which would usually happen when he’d serenade you in the floor at night, and he’d have that same blushy patch appear right before he’d hide his smile in the crook of your neck

while sitting next to you, if he couldn’t see your entire side profile, he’d always move your hair and tuck it behind your ear. he also liked to do this thing where he rubbed your ear after doing it

you knew you loved shawn, and he knew he loved you.

like, this dude has loved you for years. of course it dwindled and changed as you both grew, both apart and grew, but he always felt something.

so, it wasn’t a surprise when this conversation took place one night, you both sat on the couch as the background noise of the tv filled the room while you worked on a project, and he was writing a song that’d be for you when it was finished.

“hey, (y/n),” shawn said, a bit lower than the tv’s volume.

“yeah?” you answered monotone and focused on the finishing touches of your project.

he had been staring at you with those soft eyes, so his tone came out a bit more soft too, “let’s get married.”

[fireintheforest]

Penance, part II

Skrit, skrit, skrit, skrit.

“What do you think Lillandril told him?” Muraz asked Amara as they observed Saufinril cleaning the main floor of the den with a brush, mainly the area that still held stains of blood and rotmeth from last night.

“Obviously told him what he did was not fine. Obviously upset about the fight.” Amara replied, her hair up in a silk headwrap and wearing her red silk robe.

“Yes but what else?” Muraz asked, “When he stepped out, he looked like he’d just seen a ghost. Do you think he’s getting sent back to the Isles?”

“What is it with your obsession of Saufinril returning to the Isles? He went and came back, didn’t he?”

“Getting sent to a far away place, to learn etiquette. Wherever Altmer go to learn that. And he returns and he’s got no heart so he doesn’t love anymore. Because it was fed to a daedra in exchange for power.”

“If you just spoiled Farida’s second part to me just now, I’m throwing you down the stairs. Also, you damn well know he’s not like that.”

“Fine, but what happened. What did he say. This is the second time this year that these guys are killing me with their suspense!”

“Learn. Altmeris.”

“Yeah, yeah. Amara, what if the guy he beat up was an important customer and he sues the bosses, and we have to close the Den? My great-grandmother’s ghost will haunt me for the rest of my life! And what if Saufinril gets thrown in jail?”

“Well, he has been to jail before, hasn’t it? I…don’t think we’re getting sued nor that that guy was anyone important.” Amara had sounded uneasy at the possibility of the Den closing, however, “In any case, he’s survived jail. It’ll suck, but he’s survived it.”

“But he’d ran into Thalmor, Amara.” Muraz whispered, “And Thalmor jail is worse than jail jail. You go in, you don’t go out. Everyone knows that. I’ve heard they send their prisoners out when they’re going to be executed because here you have to eat people when they die and they don’t want that, they toss them in mass graves!”

“Muraz, that is disgusting.”

“I’m not the one tossing people in mass graves! In any case, what if Lillandril told him to run away to avoid the Thalmor from seeing him when they bust in but he’s compulsively cleaning out of guilt?”

“He doesn’t- well he did wash every single plate, pot, utensil and glass in the Den that one time.”

“What if it was actually-what if they’re members of a cult or secret organization and this was all according to the plan, to some plan, and Saufinril has to pretend it was bad but he actually got initiated and is actually really proud? Look at him! Two days ago he had this…this vague air of a living dead and now he’s scrubbing like his life depended on it. It’s because he became a member!”

Amara slowly turned to look at Muraz, “….by beating someone up in an establishment, Muraz? Also rotmeth stains are damn hard to remove.”

“What if ‘ran into’ the Thalmor is more like, code for joining? Like he tried to tell us but couldn’t tell us? What if someone in the Isles recruited him and he’s doing a mission and Lillandril was talking him out of it and-Oh Amara, oh, Yffre. Amara, remember when we found his room empty? What if that ginger guy was the guy he was seeing Kartan behind his back with, remember? The guy he wanted to marry instead of Kartan? What if the wedding never happened. What if the ginger guy left him at the altar and that is why he returned, and he ran into him twice yesterday and the memory of being humiliated and dishonored and having lost Kartan was what drove him to beat him up, because the guy was also being a jerk-Amara don’t give me that face, he came to the Den and asked for Samin, ok? Right in front of the mer that was willing to ditch everything for love, for him and-”

“First of all,” Saufinril’s voice made them both turn and see that the Altmer had stopped washing and had been listening for a while, “one would never in one’s life join the Thalmor. That’s preposterous. Second, one can hear you two from here. And third, one never cheated on Kartan, Muraz.” that last sentence came out as a particularly nasty snap towards the orsimer.

“You touched a sore spot with K-a-r-t-a-n.” Amara whispered, going to the stairs and followed by Muraz.

“How was I supposed to know he could listen? Also didn’t they break up like, 3 months ago?” Muraz replied quietly. They both got to the main floor, where Saufinril continued cleaning. His tone of voice and expression were back to normal when he looked at them and said,

“You have the nerve to wake up this late.”

“Look who’s speaking about nerve! The brawler. In the middle of shift, of the Den, no less! And to a customer!” Muraz pulled out a seat nearby and sat down, “What was that about, anyways?”

“Rich of you to talk about our waking up hours when two nights ago you’d still be sleeping at this time.” Amara added.

“The man.” Saufinril replied, pointing to the back of his neck and ignoring Amara’s observation, “He came back, pissed one off and…well the rest is history.”

Muraz’s eyes widened. “He came here just to pick a fight with you?”

“No, maybe he didn’t know one was here. But in any chance, one handled it poorly.” Saufinril went back to washing. Muraz observed him and asked, “So…about Lillandril…”

“About him?”

“He took you away so fast, and with how you looked, one thought you were going to pick a fight with him too-”

“No! Muraz, never. With him? Never.”

“I know, I know. I’m just saying, I feared you were going to keep letting your fists fly.”

“What Muraz is trying to say,” Amara interjected, “is that we’d like to know what Lillandril told you last night.”

“Yeah. Well, one wouldn’t ever fight him. If anything,” Saufinril dipped the brush on the soapy water and continued, “one almost wet oneself when one saw him. He just wanted to talk.”

“Yes, but about what?” Muraz urged.

“It’s private.” Saufinril replied vaguely, “And if one sits and tells you all about it, one won’t have time to beat the bedroom rugs, which are a lot and some are nasty as Oblivion. Like yours, Muraz. Probably yours.”

“You’re no fun, you don’t tell me things anymore.” Muraz protested, crossing his arms and leaning back, “I want a divorce. Come on, he literally yanked you away and then you stepped out looking like you came out from a funeral. I need to know. Also, what were you thinking, getting in a fight with someone in the Den?”

“Don’t go there, come on.” Saufinril protested, stopping for a second, “One already got sermons from Amara here and your mother right after Lillandril’s talk. One doesn’t need another one.” Amara just gave him a sweet smile.

“Ok but what did Lillandril say!” Muraz insisted, then stopped, eyes wide, “He didn’t kick you out, did he?”

“Muraz, would he be cleaning the Den if he’d gotten kicked out?”

“You got put in servitude?” Saufinril turned to glare at Muraz, “Ok, ok. Sorry. Don’t beat me up. He said something to get you out of that studio looking like that. Was it bad news?”

“Umm…sort of.” Saufinril moved the container with soap and water to another section that had the liquor and blood. Amara and Muraz both approached.

“I’m guessing it obviously had to do with the fight. The one in the Den. Did you tell him about the market one?” Amara asked

“One had to, yes.” A dip and the brush was back scrubbing the floor.

“Did you tell him of the you-know-who?” Muraz asked, “The guys…them….those?”

“Thalmor, Muraz. Yes, one told him. One had to.”

“And?” Amara asked gently. Saufinril sighed and scrubbed harder, “And one caught their attention and then had a bar fight, do you know what would’ve happened if they’d been patrolling nearby, heard a commotion, gotten in and seen one? And started digging their noses where nobody asked them to? We’d all be screwed because of one. Particularly,” he lowered his voice, “particularly Lillandril and Rialas. And one.” His tone of voice went back up, “So that’s what we talked.”

There was a silence until Muraz broke it with a, “So…you’re grounded.”

“One is 228, one is not grounded.”

“Why are you cleaning the floors?” Amara asked

“Because, Amara, this mess,” he pointed the area around, “was what one made and one has to fix it.”

“Ok, then why are you cleaning the carpets after this?”

“Because tasks like these are not just to fill some ‘oh one is grounded and one will finish this stupid punishment so one can go back to bullshitting again like usual once one’s guardians aren’t mad anymore’ quota. When someone does something wrong, it’s correct to apologize and fix the mistake. One apologized and one has to make things right; not just with cleaning away the shame that one’s actions brought to Lillandril, Rialas and the Den, but also to regain their trust. Everyone’s trust. One handled both situations poorly and that put Lillandril, one and everyone here at risk, and one has to take responsibility for it and reform. One’s slip could’ve caused real damage to people one cares about, and we’re lucky that so far, the Thalmor haven’t rained down on us because of one’s carelessness.”

Amara nodded solemnly. Muraz gave a “huh” and then asked, “Then why did you refuse to let me go with you when you went to see Hekla and Armi at the tavern after the rouge incident and instead sent me to clean all the dishes?”

“Well, because you were grounded.” There was a minute of silence and then Saufinril dumped the brush at the water and continued washing, “Alright fine, one is grounded. But it doesn’t erase all that one just said. One really has to reform from this. That was a shitty way to handle things. One could’ve just had any other bartender take his order and gone clean tables or something. One could’ve just tried to keep the peace and left when that pig’s bodyguard stopped the fight.”

“In any case, you both discussed catching the Thalmor’s eye.” Amara summarized, “Don’t be too hard on yourself. I don’t think they’d be interested in raiding some bar when they have other matters at hand.”

“Yeah, so. In other news, last night before the incident, mother told me there’s a new girl here.” Muraz said

“Really? Name?”

“I don’t remember, I didn’t care. She starts today in the evening, she’s probably sleeping.”

“Do you think she saw the fight and was like ‘oh good riddance, I’m out of here. I’m not working in the bar with the Oblivion Crisis in it’ and legged it?” Amara joked

“’Oh thank you so much for this job opportunity-oh nope. Nope. Bye.’” Saufinril joined in

“How long do you think it’ll take her to realize Rialas is the owner of the Den and not some high-end courtesan only for important customers?” Muraz wondered.

“Is this a bet?” Amara asked, turning to him, “because we need to settle the one about Saufinril. In any case, I say two weeks. Give or take.”

“One week.” Saufinril chimed in, “She can’t be that stupid. Also what is this about a bet with one?”

“No, but Ria could interfere. So I say a month.” Muraz said, passing a hand through his hair, then he stopped when he saw Saufinril’s bruises in his arms and the busted knuckles and chuckled. Saufinril turned to look at him and asked, “What?”

“The bruises and your arm,” he pointed at Saufinril’s arms, “it’s all blue and yellow. Like, just blue and yellow. It’s how you see. We’re seeing how you see.” Amara looked at the Altmer’s arms and immediately started to laugh along with Muraz while Saufinril watched.

“You both are so funny.” He said sarcastically, as they laughed, “A comedy duo.”

“Saufinril, what color is this?” she pointed to her robe, and laughed as Muraz did too. Saufinril gave them the middle finger, unable to hold back the grin anymore, and went back to scrubbing.

[masterserris]

FUNERAL FOR A MAGICIAN FINAL PART: Be Human

Mysterio is back in action! Renewed, what will he do next?!

“I analyze and I verify and I quantify enough One hundred percentile No errors, no miss I synchronize and I specialize and I classify so much Don't worry 'bout dreaming Because I don't sleep

I wish I could at least 30 percent Maybe 50 for pleasure Then skip all the rest

If I only was more human I would count every single second the rest of my life If I just could be more human I'd have so many little babies and maybe a wife

I'd roll around the mud And have lots of fun Then when I was done Build bubble bath towers and swim in the tub

Sand castles on the beach

Frolic in the sea Get a broken knee Be scared of the dark and I'd sing out of key

Cuss when I lost a fight Kiss and reunite Scratch a spider bite Be happy with wrinkles I got when I smiled

Pet kittens til they purred Maybe keep a bird Always keep my word I'd cry at sad movies I'd laugh til it hurt

I'd buy a big bike And ride by the lake And I'd have lots of friends And I'd stay out too late

If I could just be more human I would see every little thing with a gleam in my eye If only I was more human I'd embrace every single feeling that came in my life

Would I care and be forgiving? Would I be sentimental and would I feel loneliness? Would I doubt and have misgivings? Would I cause someone sorrow, too? Would I know what to do? Will I cry when it's all over?

When I die, will I see heaven?”

(This was the only full version I could find RIP)

Characters: Neo Mysterio (Quentin Beck), Doc Ock (Otto Octavius), Spider-Man (Peter Parker), Alexandria Beck (Alex), Sandman (Flint Marko), Chameleon

Warnings: Explicit gore and death, violence, mentions of past abuse, mental illness, physical illness, swearing

^These warnings are here for the story as a whole. If you get invested by reading a less graphic chapter, then be prepared for the warnings above in other parts!!

(swearing in this chapter + moderate/mild gore and violence)

Parker was taking photos of the event for the Daily Bugle, but as everyone was leaving, he had caught the four Sinister Six members out of the corner of his eye. He was not about to let them escape. 

Luckily, since all the celebrities were heading out, he had a perfectly good excuse to leave himself and change into his spider suit. He quickly tailed them from a distance as they headed to their hidden limo. He shot a spider tracer at the vehicle as they were entering, but this did not go unnoticed.

Just as Quentin was about to get in, he saw the tracer on the back hood and immediately shot his eyes up enough to glimpse Spider-Man. He jumped back and his Neo suit materialized over his dress suit. Chameleon and Otto sped off into the night after Mysterio peeled the tracer off the car. Flint and Beck were ready for a fight.

Flint: “Ay, Spider-Man! Why can’t ya just leave us alone! We wuzn’t doin’ nuthin’!”

Neo Mysterio: “Right, leave it to you, Spider-Man, to ruin our little night on the town. I’m honestly not surprised since you always have a habit of making my life worse than it already is.”

Spider-Man: “Really, bowl-face? I just wanted to tail you guys and find out what you were up to. You’re the ones wanting a fight! And besides, I really find that hard to believe. You’re the Sinister Six. It’s kinda your brand to make bad things happen. And no one made you become a super villain in the first place. You all chose to be one.”

Flint: “It ain’t that easy, Spider-Man. Life has a nice way a’ pushin’ guys like us around to do things we don’t really wanna do.”

Spider-Man: “So don’t do it, then! You think your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man doesn’t also have spider-problems? We all do! Our choices are what make us heroes or villains. You were literally given a second chance, Beck! That’s more than most people! Are you really gonna throw that away by sticking with these guys?”

Flint turned to Mysterio, worried for his friend.

Neo Mysterio: “Spider-Man, every time you’ve interfered in my life, things have gotten worse. I was just some nobody committing petty crime to try and pay off my debts and make a new life. But you caught and beat me. Put me in jail, only to be busted out by my new friends. They’ve treated me far better than most people ever have. Every time you try and stop us, more people get hurt. I died because you just HAD to defeat me.”

Spider-Man: “I- no... that’s... But even still! Think of all the people we saved! From Ultron! From Terrax! Those worlds would still be under treat!”

Neo Mysterio: “Maybe! You don’t KNOW that! I can NEVER trust you hero types! So many of you flip-flop between hero and villain or just fight amongst yourselves all the time! At least I know where I stand with villains.”

Spider-Man: “Beck! Please! You’re making a mistake! Marko! I know you’ve struggled with being a villain in the past! Both of you can walk away from this, here and now! Do the right thing you know to be true!”

Flint: “Sorry, Spidey. I got people countin’ on me to see this through ‘til the end. I ain’t no quitter.”

Peter desperately turns back to Mysterio.

Spider-Man: “Quentin! Think of your sister! Would she want you to do this? Throwing away your life again after everything that’s happened?”

Mysterio was deathly silent for a moment, before snapping.

Neo Mysterio: “Don’t you DARE. Don’t you dare for one SECOND try and use my sister to try and manipulate me into doing what you want me to. You have no idea what we’ve gone through. You don’t know a THING about me, Spider-Man. Just. Stay away!”

And with that Mysterio slammed a smoke grenade on the pavement. Before Parker could leap after them, they had vanished completely. Peter was no closer to finding out their plans nor where their new base was. All he knew is that he drove Beck further away. He screwed up.

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

After meeting back up at the Sinister Six base, they all except for Quentin had departed to their quarters. It was certainly an interesting night. Beck had thanked them once again for trying to cheer him up. With a sigh he reached into the communal fridge for something to drink.

???:” Fancy meeting you here.”

Beck whirled around in shock only to see Flint leaning against the table, looking smug.

Quentin: “Hoooooly fucking shit man, you scared the hell out of me. Don’t do that again,” he said with a smile.

Flint: “Hah, it’s hard ta get the jump on ya, so I’ll take what I can get haha. Anyways, I just wanted ta see how you’re doin’ after.. ya know.. the Spider ruinin’ our picnic and all.”

Quentin: “God, he pisses me off so bad... I’m not even completely sure why, either. Yeah, it’s annoying when he gets in the way, but I think... I think it’s that damn big mouth of his that gets me.”

Flint: “I know whatcha mean. D’ya know he once called me Flinto? Fuckin’ FLINTO. What the hell is that supposed ta mean? I wasn’t even offended. Just... confused...”

Quentin: “Well, I mean, I don’t LIKE being called ‘bowl-head’ very much, but I think it more has to do with his bullshit view on life. Like, I can respect it enough, but he seems to think it’s just SO easy to stay out of trouble. But the thing is, trouble grabs you, it sinks you in and you just can’t get out. Then everything is ruined and you’ll never be free again. So what if I came back to life? I still gotta finish this. No matter what. Maybe after that, we can all... rest, but I kinda doubt the world will let us. We’ll always be bad in their eyes. People just... don’t seem to get that anyone could be in our position... If things had just gone a little differently. It’s his... smug.. stupid naive ideals that just rub me wrong, I guess.”

Flint: “Well, jeez, I guess so... Look, I wuz just hopin’ you had a good time, is all. Soon, hopefully we can put all a’ this junk behind us, okay?”

Quentin: “Yeah.. tonight was good. No matter what. Thanks for.. sticking by me, Flint. It means a lot. Maybe... Maybe when everything is done, you can visit my sister’s place and your daughter can see my niece?”

Flint: “Yeah. I’d like that. Sounds like a plan, buddy.”

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

It was less than a week later that Peter was alerted by the police scanner. Numerous reports were flooding in of a certain fishbowl-man causing terror downtown. With a heavy hearted sigh, Peter leaped into action.

He was hoping, more than anything, that Beck could do away with this life of crime. He was a good person, deep down in there, or so Parker believed. Why was he so hellbent on helping the Sinister Six? So much so that he would risk it all again?

Peter swung building to building, closing in on the commotion. It was not hard to spot. Mysterio had conjured up a whole horde of demons and monsters to scare people away. His fear gas was driving people wild, having them panic and sprint blocks and blocks away. To his credit, Beck knew how to get people out of the way when he needed them to.

Parker was ready, this time. He had a gas mask on and had calibrated his lenses to better see through the hologram projections. Not perfect, but it would do.

Spider-Man: “Hey! Hey Mr. Fun House! Why aren’t you at the carnival where you belong? Can’t you see these people HATE your show?”

Neo Mysterio: “Always with the JOKES! Well, laugh THIS off!”

Mysterio shot at Peter with his hand lasers, hoping to knock the hero away. He could not afford this interruption right now. Spider-Man took the hit, but dodged the second barrage. It stung, but he could shake it off.

Spider-Man: “Hey! Fine! You want serious? Let’s get serious!”

Parker swung in and slugged Mysterio right across the helmet, sending them both clattering to the ground with a grunt of pain. They both quickly got to their feet and prepared to fight.

Spider-Man: “Stop this, Beck! Final chance! Stand down and tell me why you’re robbing Alchemax! What does Octavius want so bad?!”

Neo Mysterio: “I have nothing to say to you! I don’t owe you anything! Least of all my breath and time! Just leave me alone and everything will stop!”

Spider-Man: “Sorry, can’t let that happen, Mysty!”

Peter shot a web right past Mysterio, hitting a car. Yanking forward he launched himself at Mysterio, aiming to smash that bowl of his. The only thing was that Beck dodged at the last second, making Spider-Man land onto the car with an agile flip. When Peter turned around Quentin was already sprinting at him, ready to throw a haymaker punch.

Peter dodge to the left with a somersault, making Beck slam his right arm into steel. His carbonadium fist was imbedded within the vehicle, making him an easy target for Peter to kick.

Quentin blocked Peter’s foot with with his free arm. Parker was shocked at Mysterio’s raw strength. He suspected that he was in fact fighting a robot instead of the real deal. Why would Mysterio simply be in public? Wouldn’t he hide himself while his robots took the attention away from him?

Coming to this conclusion, Peter was done pulling his punches. When Mysterio freed himself from the side of the car, Peter slammed a lamppost against Beck’s head, thoroughly shattering his dome. People still nearby gasped as Quentin went clattering to the ground. Any human would surely have been killed by such a devastating blow.

With a groan, Beck got to his feet, his head bleeding from the shards of glass cutting him open.

Peter’s heart dropped at his mistake. How could he have screwed up so bad? He surely has a concussion, or worse, a hemorrhage in his brain from such a nasty impact. He could keel over dead at any minute. God, all that blood was pouring out of him, wasn’t it? Just like. Just like... 

Spider-Man: “Oh god, Quentin, you’re bleeding! Stop moving, we need to get you to a hospital!”

Neo Mysterio: “What I NEED is you to stop looking down on me, Spider-Man...”

Wiping the blood from his brow, Beck rushed at Spider-Man, not letting up. Parker did his best to fight back, but Quentin was inhumanly strong. Never had Peter known that he was holding back so much. The prototype super soldier serum was certainly no joke and Beck just had so much rage.

Spider-Man: “ENOUGH!!”

Parker threw a punch with all his might at Beck, a last desperate attempt to stop this fight, but Mysterio simply caught his fist. Caught a punch from Spider-Man, the guy who could lift a tank and who fought the Incredible Hulk. Peter was shocked.

Neo Mysterio: “I’ll be your punching bag no longer, Spider-Man! Today, YOU LOSE!!”

Quentin pulled his fist back and slammed Parker across the jaw, sending him face-first into the pavement. With a “shink!”, Beck unsheathed the blade on his wrist and held it an inch from Peter’s neck.

Neo Mysterio: “huff... huff... I win... Today, I win...”

As suddenly as Mysterio, attacked, he pulled away, sheathing his blade once more. Peter was rather confused. Most super villains aren’t in the business of sparing their foes.

Neo Mysterio: “I’m letting you go... I don’t wanna kill anyone... not you... you don’t deserve that... you’re just fighting me to protect others... I get it... but... If we ever battle again... and I beat you... I’ll let you go... Only if you promise to let me go and not follow me once I’m done... If you win? Well... then you capture me, it’s that simple.... but if I win? Then you just leave with your skin still attached.... deal?”

Peter was reeling. Still seeing stars from the blow that he was dealt. He was in no position to refuse. Mysterio was sparing him. He would just have to beat him next time. He didn’t like giving up. He never gave up. Peter was not going to give up now or ever. He would keep fighting. Today just wasn’t his day.

Spider-Man: “D-deal....”

Neo simply stared at him with cold eyes before vanishing in a puff of green smoke. The robot doubles that Peter was worried about were already done robbing the place 5 minutes ago, anyways. Quentin himself was the distraction this time. And now he was once more a wanted man. The cycle repeats once more.

Peter shakily got to his feet, helped a few citizens recover from the gas and commotion, then swung away. He had a lot to think about, and a lot of healing to do.

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

Beck went back to the base, prize in hand. His face was properly stitched up by Otto, along with a new serum that faded scars over time. He was exhausted in all ways imaginable, but he still had energy to do one last thing.

He compressed his armor into an under suit once more after fixing his helmet and teleported to a rooftop a few miles away, wearing a simple green sweater and soft dark jeans. He sat on the very edge of the roof, observing the sunset from his precarious vantage point. A matcha latte in one hand and his cellphone in another.

He called his sister.

                                     End of Funeral for a Magician

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

Thank you all so much for reading! It means a ton! I shall make a master post with links to all the chapters, along with a link to the playlist that accompanies this story!

As a bonus, there shall be some art to go with it from a special someone who I commissioned for this!

Have a wonderful week everyone, and thanks for sticking with me through this emotional roller coaster!!

-MS

[kee-writestrashh]

Guns for Hire

Ramsay Bolton x Reader

ao3

Summary:  You are the wife to the Heir of the Red Kings, Ramsay Bolton. living the undercover life of a mob wife has its perks, and you love your husband. But you find out something that seems to unfold a series of unwanted events…

Chapter 54: Dead af

You sighed, turning back to the still open door and walking through it, letting your feet carry you blindly until you realized you were sitting on the couch in the den.

You saw Ben standing there, talking away on the phone as he fought with the Bluray player. Kaden climbed up beside you and hugged you tight after he set his bowl of popcorn down.

"Don't be sad, aunt (y/n). Mama says it will be okay. They got the wrong man." He said, nodding in his five year old wisdom.

Ben pat you on the shoulder as he left the room.

"Who's your favorite?" Kaden asked, kicking his shoes off and pulling his popcorn in his lap.

"Favorite what?" You finally asked, glancing down at the boy.

"Character. I like Rey. She's tough. I think I will ask her to be my girl friend if I ever see her." He said.

You grinned at his innocence and sighed, "I dunno. I like BB. The droids are always my favorites."

"Uncle Ramsay likes Star Wars too. I seen all his stuff in his old room."

"Yeah, he likes the bad guys. Like Kylo." You nodded.

"I don't think Kylo is bad. Just sad and kind of angry." The boy shrugged as Liz came in and sat down beside you, pulling you into her.

The embrace was so warm and caring, it seemed to break you as you sobbed into her shoulder.

"Shhh... It will be okay." She cooed gently stroking your hair in a motherly way.

You weren't sure how long you sat there in her arms, crying, wishing your own mother could hold you.

Finally the tears subsided into small sniffles as you blankly watched TV with Liz and Kaden.

"No more crying, okay? We have to be big. They just made a wrong guess." Kaden smiled at you.

"Wrong man. Wrong guess." You said slowly, an idea hatching.

"Let's go." Ben said, looking apprehensive as he stopped beside your seat, giving Liz a quick kiss on the cheek.

You wiped the last of the tears away and stood, slowly.

You and Ben said nothing until you were almost in city limits.

"Right, the lawyer is on the plane out here. Should be here in three hours or so. His name is Skinner. He's a Boy. Ramsay and Damon met him in college. He's good. And he's in our pocket for sure. Remember, keep your talking to a minimum. The less you say, the less the press can twist your words." Ben finally said, lighting a cigarette. It must have been a mark of how stressed he was because he hardly ever smoked.

"Right. Mouth shut." You said, fixing your smudged makeup in the window visor mirror.

Anger surfaced from nowhere as you walked into the station. The anger inside you so loud Ben had to steer you along and sit you at a table as you couldn't process anything properly. It was like something deep inside of you snapped.

You balled your fists so hard, your nails cut into your palms, but you didn't notice as you stared at the leg of the table, jaw clenched, feeling your son move about almost excitedly.

A cop walked in, depositing Ramsay roughly in the empty chair across the table. He wore his smirk, lip busted.

"What did you do?" Ben asked, looking Ramsay over.

"They didn't like my singing apparently. I don't understand why. I have such a lovely voice. Might have been the song choice. FUCK THE POLICE!" He laughed, eyes glittering in malice.

"Would you stop making this harder?" Ben whispered exasperatedly.

"So how much am I paying to get out of here?" Ramsay asked casually, adjusting the handcuffs.

"You're not." Ben said quietly.

You whipped your head around so fast to look at the man beside you, you cricked your neck.

"What?" You demanded, rubbing your neck as Ramsay narrowed his eyes with a small frown.

"They denied bail. Ramsay, this is serious. They've connected you to everything since the bar burned, even accusing you for all the Starks. That's top of the list. They're pushing for life. Skinner is on his way. Be here in a couple hours or so." Ben said, staring at the table.

Ramsay gave a small sigh, "orange is really not my color. No matter. Call the exterminator. I have solid alibis for everything, you know where to find them."

"Baby, we have to get you out of here." You said desperately.

"What? Why? These are my kind of people. Murders, rapers, thieves, drug dealers." Ramsay chuckled.

"She's right, boss. We don't have enough Kings or Boys in here to keep you safe. Too many lions because of Robb Stark." Ben said so quietly you could hardly hear him, looking strained.

"I'll be fine. Just a bunch of shit rags. And if it gets too bad I'll just shank someone and get put in solitary until court day. Push it, I'm supposed to be throwing a bachelor's party soon." Ramsay shrugged, giving you a long look, "I said our blades are sharp. Not wet. Stop crying, woman."

You gave him a dirty look but gave a small grin at his smirk, giving a small sniff.

"Come here." He said, leaning forward.

You leaned across the table, placing your lips to his. He pulled away from you too soon and stood, frowning at his orange jumpsuit.

"Do what the wife says." Ramsay said, looking at Ben and holding his hand out.

"I'll be back later with Skinner." Ben nodded, shaking Ramsay's hand.

You stood from your chair, walked around the table and wrapped your arms around your husband.

He pushed the side of his face into yours and inhaled you.

"Just a night or two. Don't have too much fun without me." He joked.

You snorted.

"Stay out of trouble. You're not as fast as you used to be, Scrappy-Doo." Ben said, giving Ramsay a very hard look.

"Yes, father." Ramsay tutted, rolling his eyes.

"I want every man involved in the Boys and Kings at dinner tonight." You said forcefully, struggling with your seat belt and pregnant belly.

"Why?" Ben asked, helping you with your seat belt.

"Damnit, just do what I said, Ben!" You shouted, giving a frustrated growl.

Ben raised his brows at you but nodded.

"Also, there's a fabric shop on the corner. We are stopping there." You dictated.

"Um, right. Can I ask why?" He frowned.

"Because I said." You hissed.

"You good?" He asked, looking alarmed.

"Fucking peachy. Quit asking questions and just take me to the damn fabric shop." You growled, looking anywhere but at Ben, knowing you would feel bad for being so mean if you did.

"What is all this for?" Ben grunted under the weight of all the different black fabrics.

"Mind your matters, Benjamin." You said, climbing into your seat.

×××

"There you are. I was coming to tell you dinner is ready and everyone is here." Matt said sliding into the empty drawing room.

"I'm glad they sent you to find me. Close the door." You said, setting your pencil down and looking up from your paper.

Matt gave an uneasy look, but did as you said.

"Miss tagging walls?" You asked casually.

"Eh, sometimes." Matt shrugged.

"How many little buddies do you know good at tagging?"

"A fair few. Why?" He said, crinckling his brow.

You held the piece of paper out. Matt crossed the room and took it.

"What's this?" He asked, looking down at the drawing. "You do this? It's pretty fucking sweet."

"Thank you, dear. Now, shoot it and send it out. I want the entire city covered in this by the morning. I will explain later." You said, rising from your seat and leaving Matt alone in the room.

You walked up to your room to change.

You glanced down at your jeans and shirt. Fuck it. You tucked your gun into the waist of your pants and left the room.

You entered the dining room, taking Ramsay's empty seat.

Dinner was a very quiet, awkward affair as you watched the men around you trying to figure out the purpose for being here.

You leaned back into the chair, resting your elbows on the chair arms, placing your fingers tips together, and crossing your legs. You surveyed the table. Your seat made you feel powerful as you looked down the table.

"Thank you, gentlemen for meeting my request on such short notice. I am certain it would have been much more enjoyable with Ramsay here.... Now, why is my husband in jail?" You said, almost shouting the ending.

Nobody said anything as they stared at you.

You rose from your chair, glaring down the table as if spitting acid.

"I will ask one more time." You said taking a steadying breath. "Why the fuck is Ramsay sitting in jail while I share a shitty dinner with all of you? Think I'd rather share my company with you lot?"

Ben looked like he was about to say something but you shot him a nasty look that made him look away.

A man shifted in his chair.

"And what can you tell me?" You asked, walking over to him.

"There's nothing. No trace of a rat or any of our men leaking information." He said, looking uncomfortable as you stepped into him.

In one fluid motion you pulled your gun from your pants waist and shot the man point blank in the face.

You turned back to the stunned room, wearing a smirk even Ramsay would be proud of.

"Does anyone else have any more useless information for me?" You asked, giving a sweeping glance over the table at every man's face.

You spotted a man who pulled at his collar. You walked over to him, fingering his unused knife.

"How was your dinner?" You asked politely.

The man swallowed, "it was excellent."

"Good. Now, what can you tell me?" You said, picking up the knife and eyeing it closely.

The man swallowed again, sweat forming as he watched you examine the knife. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't hear you." You whispered with a smile.

Again he opened his mouth, but closed it as words failed him.

You grabbed the man's hand and placed it on the table, "spread your fingers and don't move."

He did as you instructed. You could feel him trembling in fear. Fucking pussy. You looked up at the table with a wide, fanatical grin.

"Gentlemen, it seems we have a problem and the mute cannot tell me." You laughed, bringing the knife down as hard as you could on the man's pinky.

He screamed in pain, pulling his hand to him, cradling it in his other.

"Stop bleeding on my goddamn table!" You screamed at him, pressing the knife to his throat.

You turned back to the room, ignoring the sounds of pain and agony beside you.

"Every day my husband sits in jail this man will lose a finger. He only has nine now. Who will be next?" You said, baring your teeth and pointing at a man down the table. "You. You're next. Until the rat is brought to me or my husband is returned to me, there will be hell. You are all dead as fuck. You only thought Ramsay was scary. I am so, so much worse."

The same manic laugh that crept up on you from time to time, escaped you.

"Because I'm in such a bad mood..." You said, stabbing the other man beside you in the neck.

He slumped forward. You clucked, pulling the knife and setting it on the table.

"You all are dismissed." You said waving the table away and then pointing at Matt, Ben, and Alyn, "except you three. You stay."

You stood there, glaring at the men as they all scattered like a herd of spooked cattle.

Once the room was empty, except you, the Boys, and the two dead men, you dropped the act with slumped shoulders and a deep sigh.

"Boys, I want chaos. Everywhere. Blood needs to wash the streets. More everyday. Everyone. Lions, Stags, Roses, Towers, Kings." You said, taking an empty seat as pain in your back and side caught you offguard.

"What are you doing, (y/n)?" Ben asked cautiously as Alyn stared unblinkingly at you.

"Taking the heat off Ramsay. He can't have done all of those things if say... oh, I don't know... I did it." You said slowly.

"What are you talking about?" Alyn finally spoke.

"I mean if we make it look as though Ramsay was never the one in control or ever engaged in any of those activities we can send the police on a wild goose chase, looking for a crime boss who doesn't exist." You said, nodding at Matt, who pulled the paper from his pocket and laid it out flat on the table.

"Foxes and the First Order. You are so Ramsay's wife." Ben said with a small huff.

"It was your son who gave me the idea." You said, rising from the table. "He said the cops got the wrong man. Made a wrong guess. So let's get back at them. Let the fox out fox the cops. Terror in the streets for everyone. No one singled out. Now, send Carmen to my room, and get ready for hell on earth." You said, leaving the dining room.

"Come in." You called, standing at the window.

Carmen came in quietly, looking you over, "Ben said you would like word?"

"I have it you were a seamstress once upon a time?" You said, still gazing out the window at the shining lights of the city in the distance.

"A damn good one." Carmen said, puffing her chest out.

You grinned, "Good. Follow me."

You walked swiftly and purposefully to the sewing room you had found a few days ago. On the table in a corner was all the fabric you had bought earlier.

"I need you to make this for me." You said, holding out your phone.

Carmen took it and examined the picture closely, zooming in on detail, and nodding to herself.

"Easy enough." She said, "Just get me a hard copy and I need to measure you."

"Pictures are by the fabric.  When can you have it done?" You said, crossing the room to the fabric.

"Saturday at the latest." Carmen said, taking in the psychotic air about you.

"Perfect." You said with a small grin.

A knock came on the door.

"Enter!" You called, as Carmen dug through a drawer to find a tape measure.

"(Y/n), I know Ramsay said to do what you say... but... do you know what you're doing?" Ben asked tentatively.

You laughed, "No idea."

Ben opened his mouth but said nothing, watching his mother in law take your measurements.

"But if there is one thing I have learned in being Ramsay's wife, it is that if you are crazy enough to do it, it is crazy enough to happen. Don't worry, Ben. I've got this. Our blades are sharp." You smiled.

"Riiight. Well, I'm off to gather up Skinner. His plane finally came in." Ben said, giving you a skeptical look.

"Be safe. Give my husband my love. And Ben, do not breathe a word of this until it is time." You warned as he left.