#i could get at least three months or more out of what id have left from my retirement acct

[kurophiliac]

Hello, It's Plato. I am making this post to provide additional context on the accusations for those who do not use Twitter. As you saw from @bezierballad 's apology, the screenshots were all faked. But there's more proof I wanted to add that they did not include. I'm sure many of you have already heard this on Twitter, so my apologies for the repetition. These are just the main points I want to get out.

Zex, the creator of the screenshots, has been caught in several lies.

According to the time stamps in the fake screenshots, it would have been impossible for the messages to have come from the server where they claimed the conversation took place. Charlie left in 2023, Zex joined in 2024, and the screenshots were all marked "today." They also can't be old screenshots because Zex and Charlie were not on the server at the same time.

When asked to provide message IDs, Zex said that they had already left the server (where they claimed to have obtained the screenshots from). However, as of right now, they are still on the server. They will be promptly removed once a moderator wakes up.

Charlie and I's nicknames from the screenshots are not nicknames or pfps we ever had in the server they supposedly came from. These nicknames were exclusive to a 7-person group chat. The only reason Zex knew of them was because of a screenshot I posted a month or two ago. It would have been much more believable if they had used our actual usernames.

(Edit) Something I forgot to add- when Zex was questioned about how they got onto the server, they said they pretended to be a proshipper and DMd me for the link to the server where they took the screenshots. However, I haven't been active in that server lately, and I never sent anyone any server links within the past 6 months.

How were the screenshots faked?

There are two likely scenarios. One being that they were generated by a bot. There are *many* services out there that will generate fake discord texts. OR they used an alt account or friend to "roleplay" Charlie and I thirsting over Charlie's non-existent 5yo cousin. Which is infinitely worse.

So, who really is Zex, and what was their motive?

The easiest explanation regarding motive is just that they wanted to make proshippers look bad. This is pretty typical anti behavior. Charlie and I could have been selected at "random" as we are two bigger sebaciel accounts. But there might actually be more to it.

Now, from this point forward, we are stepping outside the realm of fact and inside the realm of educated guesses. There exists a person who has serious grudges against me, Charlie, and Bezier. Only one person who we are aware of. This individual is a proshipper with a history of going undercover as an anti to stir up trouble and a history of faking screenshots to make antis look bad.

This person was also in the server where the original confession/accusation was made.

They had deleted their account prior to the confession. Zex is actually a new account that only joined the anti server (where the confession was made) yesterday. They basically came into the server just to make this accusation. Pretty suspicious. It's likely that Zex, in an attempt to ruin Charlie and I's reputation as revenge for us ruining theirs, created these screenshots. As seen in the posts by Bezier, Zex asked them to make a post because they didn't want to deal with the repercussions. Zex knows these screenshots are fake, and they also know that people will eventually figure it out. So, if their attempt to frame us didn't work, at least they'd be able to ruin Beziers reputation. Or perhaps even all three, if people were more divided and hadn't come to a consensus. Please keep in mind that there is no evidence that the individual with the grudge and history of faked screenshots and causing drama is actually Zex. However, it is seeming more and more likely.

Anyway. This has been a very tiring day. I am grateful to Bezier for taking down the OP and writing an apology. And as for Zex- I will likely be taking legal action against them.

[aliaology]

Hiya love, I don’t know if your requests are open and if they aren’t feel free to delete/ignore but I was wondering if you could do Jack, Quinn and Luke reacting to older Hughes sister bringing her boyfriend to the lake house and they’re so cute the three are trying so hard to hate him they just can’t?

yess babe this sounds so fun!!

PSA i lowkey read it wrong and instead of older hughes sister, i did younger hughes sister. uhm... i had already written so much i couldn't figure out how to fix it so we have to stay this way. IM SORRY BAE

MR PERFECT

like your brothers, you didn't live at home anymore. in fact, you didn't follow in luke or quinns footsteps. university of michigan was not your school, university of tennessee was. you moved down there with a full-ride scholarship for softball. down in tennessee, that's where you met a boy.

this boy's name is grayson, and unlike you, he didn't actually attend your college. you met him at one of your games. his sister was on your team, and you had accidentally run into him when you were on your way out of the stadium. he had a nice southern accent, and was raised to always treat a lady right, at least that's what his mama told you.

now, after a few months of dating, and meeting his family; it was time to meet yours.

"they don't have a thing against us southerners, right?" grayson asked, clearly nervous to meet your parents, even more nervous about your brothers.

"calm down, gray. they're gonna love you." you spoke softly.

you took one hand off the wheel and grabbed his hand in yours, lacing your hands together. he let out a breath before bringing up your twined hands and kissing the back of yours.

"you promise?" he asked, his free hand resting on the door with the window down. his hand gripped the top of the door loosely.

"promise, gray. my parents already like you from the stuff ive told them." you told, turning down your road.

his grip on your hand got a tad tighter. "i think i'm more nervous about your brothers." he confessed.

you sucked in a breath through your teeth, your grip tightening on his hand now instead. "id love to reassure you, gray, but they can be such overprotective dicks." you admitted.

grayson nodded, clearly nervous. his nerves just flared up more as you pulled into your lake house driveway. hesitantly, he removed his hand from yours and got out of the car as you put it into park. your parents were already walking over, your brothers on the porch. grayson walked to your side of the car and opened the door for you.

smiling, you turned the car off and grabbed his hand, getting out with his help. you turned to your parents who were just a few feet away from you, grayson shut your door for you.

"hi mom- dad" you smiled, pulling them both into a hug. ellen laughed slightly as jim just smiled.

"god sweetie, we missed you so much. its so weird knowing you're down in tennessee." ellen told.

footsteps approached, many of them at a time. your brothers came behind your parents. "weird to be in tennessee, but its fun."

you removed yourself from your parents before being swept off your feet by your closest brother, luke. endless hugs came from your brothers before they all finally left you alone so you could introduce the boy you brought home.

"grayson, these are my parents: ellen and jim." you pointed to them. "and those are my brothers: quinn, jack and luke." you told.

"everyone, this is my boyfriend, grayson."

your parents were overjoyed, welcoming the boy with open arms. your older brothers though, weren't as welcoming. as soon as the word 'boyfriend' left your lips, they all looked at each other. quinns arms crossed, jacks eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and luke just stared.

you noticed their behaviors and how uncomfortable grayson felt under their gazes. you sighed and grabbed graysons hand. "we'll be unpacking for a bit."

-

quinn didn't like grayson, or he tried not to, just like his brothers. who does this... cowboy think he is? thinks he has a chance with his little sister? the girl who plans on moving to a big city, becoming journalist. he would only drag her down.

though, unlike jack or luke, quinn noticed the way the boy looked at his sister. grayson looked at you as if you hung the moon. like you were the reason he was alive, breathing, why his heart was beating. sure, he knew the look of love all too well due to his parents.

but this look, this was more. all of graysons love poured out through his looks. he loved to look at you. it made quinn loosen up a bit.

-

jack definitely didn't like grayson. the way he dressed, jeans and timberlands. who does that in this weather? the cowboy hat must've been way too big for his head too, it kept falling in front of his eyes.

the way he talked. he knew his parents were comfortable with grayson due to calls before, but how was he allowed to already call them 'ma and pa?' or when he spoke to the boys, his accent was almost forced away, but with you his southern drawl was at its peak.

the way he walked. god, did your boyfriend not learn how to properly walk when he was younger? okay, maybe jack was being a bit too harsh. but this was his little sister we're talking about. he had to make sure she only got the best.

but like quinn, he noticed something. it wasn't the looks quinn noticed, but it was they way he talked to you, and about you. when grayson talked to you, his voice was always soft, never raising even when in a playful mood. he also seemed to do his best to not swear in front of you, even when the word 'fuck' was said in about every five sentences that came out of your mouth.

and the way the boy talked about you? you may have well been an angel in his eyes. he always brought you up, even if you had no relation to the topic. grayson made sure you somehow related to it.

but that didn't mean jack liked him.

-

luke disliked him... moderately. his main reason for disliking him was because he was scared the boy would take you away. growing up, you and luke were the closest due to being a year apart from each other. the smaller age gap between you two compared to the others gave you guys a strong bond.

luke called often. before, during, after games, practices, sometimes even parties. every now and then he loved to call you his twin, even if it wasn't true. no one would really be able to tell.

but like the other two brothers, he disliked grayson whilst noticing one thing the others didn't: how he touched you.

now, luke didn't want to think about any weirdo guy even poking you. but he saw how grayson was with you. the southern boy was gentle. his touches were feather like when in front of your family.

graysons hands never traveled lower than your hips, and even then, he did his best to be polite and make sure you were comfortable. if you two were on the couch together, his arm around you would rest on your shoulder. his thumb would gently rub your skin back and forth. grayson was just polite.

-

the brothers couldn't pick him apart. oh, how they wanted to hate him, but he treated you so well. and all the individual things they noticed he did? you did them as well, and collectively they saw that.

the three boys realized how much grayson meant to you, how much you meant to him. you two were good for one another, and instead of trying to force you two apart, they made sure no one could come between you.

[storm-angel989]

Heyyy hope you are having a great day! Could I request a Valentino x daughter fic, where the reader had just arrived in hell and he helps her adjust? Thx

-🕯anon

HAPPY WEEKEND! The editing continues (in between adulting of course!)

Enjoy!

It was the smell she couldn’t get used to. 

The scent of rotting garbage that filled her nose every time she stepped out of the V tower- every time she stepped out from under her fathers direct protection. The clangs and clamors, yellings and beepings of car horns surrounded her. It was almost like being home…except, maybe a touch more dangerous. She turned to walk away from the red limo that sat, waiting for her. She had made it this far, after all. 

Her phone rang, adding to the noisy chaos that was the pride ring. Startled, she pulled it out of her pocket and scowled at the caller ID. Of course he knew the second she stepped out of the building. 

“Uncle Vox? What’s up?”

“You left the tower without telling us, everything okay?” Vox’s voice floated through the line. 

Reader rolled her eyes as she scanned the street. “I did tell you- this morning. I have an appointment to get my school uniform fitted, remember? Dad said I have to finish high school…there was a whole discussion…” 

“Your appointment is at noon. It's eleven and it takes ten minutes for the limo to get there. You’re too early.” 

On the other end of the line, she could hear what sounded like the ting of the elevator. Fuck. She was sure he was on his way down.

“Uncle Vox, I was going to walk to the shop. And maybe stop for a coffee on the way, I mapped my route with VoxQuest before I even walked out the door.” 

“You can’t just leave the tower whenever you please sweetheart, it’s dangerous out there. This is a much different world than you’re used to.” 

The dial tone buzzed in my ear and I turned around to see Vox walking towards me. I tried to hide my scowl. Three months. I had been in hell for three months and the lack of freedom felt like chains around me. On Earth I had the freedom to come and go throughout the world as I pleased. People feared me. No one messed with me. Partially because at the end of the day, I was a nobody- just another soul scraping my way to survive. But my arrival in hell shed light on exactly who I was- who my father was. And that made simply existing dangerous. 

My father passed when I was five. My mother before that- in childbirth, or so I was told. I didn’ have very many memories of him when he was alive- and even less so of his two best friends, Velvette and Vox. And none of my mother. All I knew of them is that when they died, they left me alone in Earth’s version of hell. 

I grew up fast, like most kids in my situation. So my early death wasn’t exactly a surprise. But what was a surprise was meeting my father within the first twenty four hours of my arrival in hell. Even more so to be thrust into a life of luxury- a stark contrast from fighting to survive. 

“Ah. Not to mention you don’t know any of the good places in town. Also does your father know you drink coffee? You’re a little young- not that I’m judging.” He continued as he tucked his arm around me. “Come along now, let me escort you if you insist on walking.”

There was a part of me that chafed at the supervision. I was almost a sophomore in high school, and I had been on my own for years. But another part of me, a bigger part of me, relaxed ever so slightly, the pounding fear in my heart, the wonder if I would survive another day melted with each passing week. 

The bell rang as we entered the coffee shop and I crossed my arms uneasily. As I studied the menu I scanned for the least expensive item. I hadn’t actually planned on buying anything. Even with the bright gold credit card I now carried in my wallet, it seemed like a waste of money- an unnecessary luxury- when the apartment never seemed to run out of coffee pods. It was more the warmth, brightness and safety of the shop that I craved. The memories of warming cold hands on hot water filled cups, scraping together pennies to save for an occasional teabag. 

“What looks good to you?” Vox asked. “Their blueberry coffee is killer.”

The uncomfortable feeling of embarrassment settled in my gut. He wouldn’t understand, even if I tried to explain it.

“Just uhm, a small black coffee,” I replied as I shifted my weight uneasily. 

He raised an eyebrow, “you take cream and sugar at home.”

“Yeah but that’s extra and I don’t want…”

He gave me an odd look but reached over and squeezed my shoulder comfortingly. “Why don’t you let me pick something for you? Go find us a spot to sit, your dad should be joining us in a few moments.”

Grateful to be free of the burden of ordering, of the anxiety I couldn’t kick that surrounded paying, I slid into a window seat and watched as the crowd passed by. A few moments later I heard the bell ring and looked up as the tall figure that was my father made his way into the room.

My memory of him alive was sparse, but in death, the man was larger than life. People moved when he walked, listened when he spoke and the fear they emitted around him was practically tangible. I watched as he scanned the room, and when his eyes met mine they practically lit up.

“Bebita, darling,” he cooed as he took the chair across from me, “Vox tells me you snuck out of the tower?”

I felt myself flush, “I’m sorry Dad I…”

“Forgot?” 

He reached across the table and took my hand in his. To my surprise he gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I understand, cariño. It must be tough, going from all the freedom in the world to being locked into a cage. Let’s try to be a bit better going forward, okay? Death in this world is far more permanent than on Earth.”

“Yes, Papi,” I muttered quietly as I looked down. 

“It must be strange to you,” he continued. “It was for me, when I first entered hell. For you, it’s an even bigger change. An overnight princessa.” 

I looked up at him to meet his gaze. 

“I looked up where you lived- or at least, where they claimed you lived. The rest of my intel says you ran the streets on Earth. And at such a young age,” he continued. “So to find yourself here- thrust into the lap of luxury and comfort, no longer fighting just to put food in your tummy, that lack of adrenaline rush must leave you feeling as though something is missing.” 

“I don’t know what to do,” I blurted out. “I have everything I ever dreamed of at my disposal. And I…and I don’t know what to do with it.”

Valentino studied me. A moment later, Vox joined the table and slid a steaming cup towards me. 

“This is what I’d like to suggest,” Valentino continued, taking the proffered cup from Vox’s hands. “And what I think will help you adjust the best. Help to ease you into this new life, since what we have been doing just doesn’t seem to be helping.”

The familiar panic settled over me. Was he kicking me out? Was my lack of obedience, lack of adjustment too much for him to deal with? 

“Hey, kiddo, take a breath,” Vox said quickly with a sharp look to Valentino. “There isn’t any reason to worry.” 

“Not at all,” Valentino said with another squeeze to my hand, “I was going to suggest that when we get you fitted for your school uniform, we review the list of clubs and sports that you can partake in. I think getting you involved in something, and establishing a day to day routine will help you adjust.”

“We all have one,” Vox added as he took a sip from his mug. “A routine, I mean. And we well know those survival instincts don’t just go away overnight. Finding an alternate way to access that adrenaline will help you settle in.”

I considered as I took a sip of my coffee. Sweetness exploded on my tongue- sugar and chocolate and cream, all combined into one. It was a heavenly treat, and I almost couldn’t believe it was real. That this was real. I looked out the window for a moment.

“Bebita? Tell us, what is on your mind?” Valentino asked as he studied me, “Please. Speak.”

“I’d like to do something to help. Not everyone who ends up in hell ends up in the life I now can lead…right? There must be some way to give back, to help those who used to be in my..situation.” I said finally. 

Vox and Valentino exchanged looks. Slowly, Vox nodded.

“We can look into that, sweetheart. That could be something we do…together, if you wish?” Valentino said slowly. “It isn’t something we…I…feel comfortable letting you go out and do by yourself.”

“We could even make it a family thing,” Vox added helpfully, “get Velvette involved.”

I could feel myself start to perk up. The more hands that helped, the better, right?

“Yeah, I would appreciate that. Thanks, Dad.”

I saw him smile and I took another drink from my cup, letting the warmth spread through me. 

“We’ll get you settled in, sweetheart,” Valentino told me, “I promise.”

[goomyloid]

What was your process for making the Noelle amv, if you don't mind sharing?

hii! im not sure how eloquently or clearly ill be able to explain it but i definitely have some pictures you can look at!

(the video)

i actually got the idea while i was away on a trip with very limited wifi -- it wasn't Trust Me that i got an AMV idea for first, but instead it was one of 4syu's other songs, There's Nobody. for such a happy sounding song it really made me so sad, to the point where if i tried to sing it to myself id get choked up by the chorus LMAO. it was baddd

but basically i was rapidly trying to find both songs on spotify so i could listen to them offline, and it only took me a few loops of Trust Me and thinking about the original MV to make me go "ohhhh. how can i make this about noelle." And so i did .

i was thinking about doing a storyboard, but in the past, i've found that doing storyboards for animations/AMVs lowkey... kills my motivation altogether... SAD... but i saw the whole video so clearly in my head, and i didnt want to make the same mistake i made before... so i went right to doing quick sketches (while still on my trip...) just so i could get the ideas out of my head

i was torn on what to do with my style at the time, whether i wanted to make it more similar to the original video, or to her canon appearance, or to MY style and how i draw her. i think it kind of ended up as an amalgamation of all three...? at the very least, her light world color palette definitely was more bland and desaturated, like i purposefully wasn't trying to do anything special with her colors.

after that point, and getting maybe a few of the actual drawings done, my motivation crashed again, and i left it all to marinate for nearly a week. it was baking, guys, it wasn't abandoned, listen to me, why are you throwing tomatoes at me,

i had up to about the "I dreamed about that again" animation done and stopped, and it wasn't until i decided to sit down and start editing it anyway that i really got in my groove again. i got all my little assets into a workable state so i could really try to sit down and make the video come to life and all

the really fun part was honestly working on the desktop backgrounds. i really wanted to limit colorpicking from the original video as much as possible, but i decided that making look as similar as possible to the original could help with the contrast i wanted to add later.

i drew these two backgrounds first. i was hoping i could somehow fit the bunker into the second one, but decided to do something different anyway. the second one's ui didn't actually change until later in the editing process.

drawing THESE were fun especially, and im happy with how they came out. i think the dark world icons are really cute still. one thing i really did know i wanted to do from the beginning was to turn the soul/undertale icon into the deltarune one.

i was worried if the shift from the Windows Field Background to the dark world would be too sudden, like you would just blink and suddenly it was all different, but i think it ended up all right...?

the not so fun part was drawing all the different boxes, lmao. it go really tedious by the end, so i tried to reuse as many of the same ones as i could.

a lot of copy-pasting and tracing rectangles for sure.

i also had to make sure the animations didnt Suck. i brute forced those things and used every last braincell i had in order to make those pictures move bros

fun fact. ive never animated hair like this before. or in any complex manner really. i had to use sooo much brain here... heres how it started vs. how it ended up

had my animator gf hype me up thru the whole thing... i was having a great time based on the filenames alone

aaaand then ummmm i edited it. i learned after effects like 1 month ago. never touched it before. i learned it for internship purposes and then used my newfound powers for evil it seems

i split the whole thing up into multiple compositions of course, but i probably could have split things up more... im sorry for having 84 layers on comp 3 its not my fault

editing a video in 12 fps was a fun change though -- very easy for my brain to go frame-by-frame, and yet still some of the timing ended up being off... tis the goomy way

like i said before, i started editing when i barely had half the drawings done, but seeing it all start to be in motion really pushed me to finish it up. and i mean Really. like i finished the whole thing maybe 48 hours after i first started editing.

and...i think that's it? i do a lot of discord art streaming to friends lately but i kinda kept this one more under wraps compared to usual, i think i just wanted to surprise everyone... look guys i remembered how to make a video! and it's three minutes! waow

sorry if this is way more than you asked for LMAO

also, the AMV hit 5k views on youtube today! ive never had a video do well like that so quickly! thank you!!

[angelmachines]

teru & socialization

i've posted about this before but something ive been thinking about a LOT is mp100's themes of loneliness (and eventual connections). i think this is an aspect of teru's character (in particular) that gets left out because it's not as explicit but i've been wanting to do a deep dive on it for a while and i finally sat down to do it. just a warning, this post is gonna be LONG.

these two panels are from chapter 16 of the manga (which i'm using for my evidence because i. dont want to scrub through the anime LOL). initial sentiment: teru uses his powers to cheat having friends/a good social life and wouldn't have that if he tried earnestly. this is a fair interpretation of the scene. with what we know, at this point of time (as in within the teru-mob fight) teru would not be able to connect with other people earnestly, due to his mindset. which i think is a fair interpretation, HOWEVER:

(from chapter 17 ^^) the first panel shows teru's expression to be strained and the second is visibly unhappy. this puts the first set of panels into a different context, that maybe underneath all of this, teru doesn't WANT any of this life that he's built. keep in mind that i'm analyzing this with teru's possible autistic tendencies in mind & you dont have to believe he's autistic, im not your dad, but i do find this a pretty meaningful indication of masking if he were

(note: yes, the strain can definitely be read as comp-het, and i would agree but that's not relevant so go read this post on that instead)

even if the rest of these panels show teru content with his life, i think these expressions are pretty vital to how we read his life especially because we know so little of it. think about it, if you were a kid desperate for affection because you couldn't get it anywhere else, especially not in a way that would come off as "mature" or "unaffected", wouldn't you also look for validation in your popularity? even if it aligned you with people who you consider fundamentally different to you? my point here is that teru can't not stand out-- it's in his nature-- and we are shown how he tries to blend in & receive attention in the only way possible to him; which is to say that he molds himself into something that is palatable, likeable, and superior to other people. if he's nothing, like mob, he has spent his entire life covering up for it. if he fails socially, like mob, he has to be good at everything (even if he cheats to do so) so that everyone else can look past it.

(side note for my teru angst enjoyers: this is a panel of his mom. the mom who he hasn't seen in years. doesn't it make sense that, if he hasn't heard his mom say he's proud of him for literal years, that he would overachieve in response? not related to the autism thing i just have the teru bug. also don't be misogynistic in my notes both his parents suck we just get a singular mention of his mom)

so if teru couldn't meaningfully have friends before mob, that could very easily be because of his past mindset, right?

...except, we don't.. really... see him make other friends afterwards.

but, the awakening lab, right?

(ok i lied to you sorry there is one anime screenshot and thats because it stood out to me while i rewatched it earlier this month. sorry.) id like to bring attention to this screenshot during the cultural festival because the awakening lab can definitely be seen as a direct contradiction of this and i'd like to point out a couple things:

1) in this scene the shiratori brothers are in another room 2) them and the other three are friends with ritsu (or at least close enough acquaintances to want to see him).

considering this is one of the only times they appear together for Fun i am more inclined to believe this is an encounter where they went together because they all would've gone separately anyway. this isn't to discount the possible bond that these characters might have, but thats the thing. we... aren't really shown that they're friends and enjoy spending time together outside of this screenshot, where two out of six of the members are not even present. not to mention that teru is still placing himself in a role separate from his peers. despite stripping the superiority away, teru is still the awakening lab's mentor, not friend. teru still views himself as fundamentally different in a context where his psychic powers don't make him that way.

...except with mob. i bring this placement of power up because where he is the awakening lab's mentor, teru declares mob to be his rival, or, in other words, teru is just like him. he is accepting that mob and him are the same. (and if we view mob from an autistic lens... so on and so forth)

as if to hammer in that point even further-- in the summer vacation omake, teru explicitly states that "summer break is just a super long, super boring stretch of alone time." i'm not sure of the timeline here, but guessing from the hair, we're at least post season 1. which gives us explicit confirmation here that teru is spending the break alone despite his relationship to the awakening lab. his connection to mob is a lifeline here because mob is one of the only people who can intuitively understand teru's isolation without judgment

(also, on that point of teru's autistic tendencies: teru does and says a LOT of things that would raise other peoples eyebrows and doesn't seem to notice.

here we get teru actively admitting to his home life, right in front of reigen, WHO COULD CALL CHILD SERVICES ON HIM? this genuinely made me rethink this character entirely. teru's filter is... minimal. he isn't constantly volunteering information and generally minds his own business, but if you ask? Well.

teru is a social person, but to say he is proficient in understanding social situations seems... wrong. teru views his loneliness as boring because, despite being fairly open, does not actually allow himself to think about his own feelings and how they affect him. this loneliness is boring because he doesn't have enough of a reference to realize its not

if we are taking pre-mob teru to be a version of himself who is masking, or at the very least someone who is faking a lot of stuff in a less autistic sense, the fight with mob changes teru to the point where he no longer hides himself. in the same way that mob was able to shake teru's fragile superiority complex i think the change in appearance marks the end of the self teru had built up. from this point on we see him become a lot more... Him. his appearance and his fashion choices are, presumably, completely normal to him and we get no indication that he believes otherwise despite the reactions it gets-- which is... well, i wouldn't be writing this post if i thought it was one of his most neurotypical traits.

in fact, he seems... pretty oblivious to what other people think of him. which is an interesting distinction to make considering the intelligence we Know he possesses (which is not to say that you are unintelligent if you don't pick up on social cues, just that its common for media to depict it that way.) these traits are made pointedly, even if unintentionally, separate, ESPECIALLY when you note the amount of characters who Do ruminate on or stare at teru's appearance.

some examples. i don't even think this is all of it-- case in point.)

[notiddygxthgf]

12. three months

★ pairings: plug!wakasa imaushi x f!reader

★ synopsis: the one where you have the hots for your dealer, and Wakasa is always eager to please a customer. (don't let your bf stop you from finding ur hubby)

★ content warning: smut, angst, lotta porn w a lotta plot, car sex, dealer wakasa, cheating, oral sex, sneaky link, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, sex while high, consensual drug use, mentions of abuse, unprotected sex, so much more...

★ a/n: so.... I have definitely been on hiatus. So so so sorry about that my little pookie bookies. life has been so cray cray lately. ur fave premed student has been struggling ngl. but I'm back up on my grind and I'm cranking out these chapters again! This one took a while to write because its definitely not a writing style I'm used to, but I needed to get this out to get to the good good. waka girlies, u will enjoy this chapter... I'm not spoiling but, stay tuned!!! love u allllll

★ w.c.; who even knows bru

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BLACK STILETTO HEELS CLICKED AGAINST linoleum, one after the other – the sounds rhythmic and soothing. You could faintly hear the fabric of your pencil skirt rustling as your thighs rubbed together, strutting down the aisle of the office with confident ease. You ran these streets. Least, that’s what it felt like when you came down that aisle every morning after you clocked in.

Right. Let’s run it back.

Three months had passed since your last meeting with Wakasa. You had taken some time to mull the whole thing over, and while a part of you wanted to hate him, you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

Three months of thinking, eight months of loneliness, three months spent repeating the same day over and over again. Three months at a job you didn’t really like, trying to make ends meet after Takeomi had cut you off.

Three months without him .

The unopened message sat in your phone the way it had been since you’d sent it. It seemed like years, now, that you had been running your tired gaze over the small field of text below the drunken mash of letters you had sent.

Read 12:01 AM

Swishing the burgundy booze around the bottom of your glass, you rested your head against the cold, unforgiving surface of the bar table. 

You swiped your ID through the reader, punching out for the day. Pocketing the little card and lanyard, you continued onward. You came up to an elevator, same one you used every day. You pressed the same buttons to get down to the same door you left through every day.

Every day.

With a quick nod of your head, you greeted your coworker – who was on her way in just as you were making your way out. You weren’t too big of a fan of her, in all honesty. You felt she was too superficial. Then again, who wasn’t in a place like this?

You were making good money, though. That’s all that mattered.

The rush of cool air that greeted you as you pushed past the gold-rimmed office doors provided a brief respite from the stuffy office. The city streets stretched before you, bustling with activity as people hurried by.

You took a deep breath.

Heels clicking against the pavement with every step, you walked with a purpose. The air of confidence you strived to exude seemed to mask your internal turmoil – feelings you felt were much better left unsaid, feelings that had been bottled away in the cellar of your mind for the past three months.

Three months of repetition.

Three months of regret.

Three months spent trying to remember the intricate valleys and curves of his body, the small features you had come to adore.

Three months spent trying to forget him.

Though you had struggled initially with your feelings toward Wakasa, you couldn’t really bring yourself to hate him. You had spent a good quarter of a year mulling it over in your head, breaking your last interaction with him into microscopic bits and pieces.

You had concluded that he had done it to protect you.

You knew he had been right to an extent but, shit… a man of his standing should have been able to find a way to make it happen…

…right?

You hadn’t heard much about Takeomi since the fight with him and Waka. Not even a peep. You didn’t know whether to feel alarmed about that or not.

You felt like you were being watched from a distance. Always. It felt like you were trapped in a never-ending cycle.

With your phone in hand, you dialed the number for a cab. The familiar anticipation began to build again while you waited for the vehicle to arrive. 

On the streets below, the city lights flickered to life, casting an amber glow on the sidewalk. You looked around for a moment, and then something piqued your attention.

Vrrrr.

There was a deep, rumbling sound in the distance, one that seized your heart in its grasp. For a moment, you were right back where you had been eight months ago. Your eyes searched the street until they fell upon a motorcyclist who had slowed to a stop in front of your building. Well, not in front of it, across the street. 

The sight of the rider stirred a pang of nostalgia deep within you.

In that split second, memories flickered through your mind. Memories of stolen laughter, hidden kisses… Memories of hushed promises against soft lips, some broken and some kept. His silhouette triggered an unexpected surge of hope.

You strained to see the rider’s face, heart racing. You yearned for that familiar, lazy gaze – the warmth it once held. 

But as he popped the helmet off of his head, it wasn’t blond hair that fell over his shoulders. No, just regular old brown hair and a stubbly face. 

It’s not him.

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut.

Your gaze fell. 

The cab’s arrival disrupted the moment, its tires screeching against the pavement until it came to a stop by the curb. With a weighted sigh, you climbed into the cab.

Your heart throbbed with a bittersweet ache. As the cab pulled away, you couldn’t help but wonder about the chances you wished you had taken with Wakasa, the what-ifs that lingered in the recesses of your mind. 

The cab carried you away from the scene, leaving behind the phantom of a love that had become a haunting memory.

-

The cold, yellow liquid felt refreshing as it burned its way down the back of his throat, that familiar acidic texture eating away at his stress. He sighed, setting the glass down on the counter.

As the bittersweet elixir numbed his senses, the pulsing beats of the club melted away, merging with the cacophony of laughter and chatter all around him.

Lost in a haze of intoxication, Wakasa let out a heavy sigh, setting the glass down on the counter with a thud. His friends eyed him up warily, faces etched with that familiar look of concern. He heard voices, people telling him to slow down, to regain control.

Of course, he paid them no heed. Glazed eyes reflecting a distant detachment, senses dulled from the liquor… worries numbed, just the way he liked it. In that numbing embrace, he found solace. Time and time again.

“I think you need a therapist, man,” Benkei whistled, nursing his own strawberry margarita. “If you’re still hung up over a hook-up this long after the fact, there’s something wrong with you.”

He pushed his friend’s concerns aside with an air of indifference and a quiet hum, too caught up in the muffled chaos of his own mind to truly acknowledge his worries.

“I think you need ‘ta hop off my dick,” He retorted, pursing his lips. “I know what I’m doin’, Kei. ‘M 27 years old.”

Benkei knitted his brows, muttering something into his margarita along the lines of, “Sure don’t act like it.”

“‘M fine, guys. Promise,” He smiled, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He knew he hadn’t been himself in a while, of course, but he would be damned if he admitted that. “What, a man can’t drink in peace?”

“No, Waka, the problem isn’t you drinking in peace,” Shin added matter-of-factly. “‘S the fact that that’syour eighth beer of the night.”

Waka glanced down at the half-empty drink in his hand – or half full, depending on how you looked at it – as if he, too were surprised at the number. “‘S Friday night, anyway. Go hard or go home.”

Waka thought he had put on a good show. He thought that, if Shin squinted hard enough, he could mistake him for a sober man. 

He thought wrong.

Shin shook his head, “It’s fuckin’ Thursday, man.”

Although he refused to acknowledge it verbally, he knew Shinichiro had brought up a good point.

Who was he kidding, anyway? It didn’t help. None of it did. The booze, the clubs every weekend, the faceless hookups and lap dances – none of it distracted him from the mess you had made in his heart.

Three months.

“It’s okay to admit you need help, Waka, y’know we love ‘ya,” Shin tilted his head. “Seriously.”

“Honest to God,” Benkei hummed.

The whole world knew he was a mess. Why couldn’t he just admit that something was wrong?

Waka ran his tongue over his teeth like the sharpened edge of a blade. He almost hoped it would draw blood. Anything to make him feel something.

“I…” He hummed, trailing off for a moment. “I think I need one more shot, then I’ll go home.”

Benkei shook his head.

Shin looked disappointed. Still, Waka couldn’t quite bring himself to care. 

Not even when his two friends had to carry him home.

-

[ 2:00 AM ]

Outgoing Message - 2:00 AM

You get home safe? 

.

Incoming Message - 2:00 AM

Yeah man. Thx 4 askin.

He holdin’ up ok?

.

Outgoing Message - 2:00 AM

He’s alr now, im staying w him tn

Gotta make sure he don’t puke in his sleep

Lol

.

Incoming Message - 2:00 AM

This ain’t healthy for him…

.

Outgoing Message - 2:00 AM

Ik… we gotta do smth man

.

Incoming Message - 2:00 AM

Ik, h8 2 see him like this

.

Outgoing Message - 2:01 AM

Idk i mean my lil sis is friends w her i think?

It may be time for ummm

.

Incoming Message - 2:02 AM

An intervention lol?

You know how Waka feels ab us gettin involved w his antics

.

Outgoing Message - 2:02 AM.

Not us.

I know a way

.

Incoming Message - 2:02 AM

It don’t involve Take’s ex girl, do it?

.

Outgoing Message - 2:03 AM

Jus follow my lead, alr?

.

Incoming Message - 2:03 AM

… I don’t like where this is headin, shin.

But I trust u.

Delivered.

-

[ USER CALL LOG ]

Best Bud (Waka)....... (Incoming) 5:00 PM (30 sec)

Lil sis (Emma) ………. (Outgoing ; declined)  2:10 AM 

Lil sis (Emma) ………. (Outgoing ; received) 2:11 AM (26 mins)

Benkei …………………. (Outgoing ; received) 2:12 AM (1 min)

Shibuya Pizzeria ……. (Outgoing ; received) 2:30 AM (1 min).

[ END OF USER “Papi Sano”S CALL LOG]

.

-

.

[2:05 AM]

[Automated]: you have 3 new messages. Play back?

[USER] Selected:

[NO] …

… [View Inbox]

…

[ Last 3 Months ].

[REPLAY>>] Message from ‘Pretty Thing’.

Transcription:

“ Hi Waka, It’s me… I know ‘s… [hiccup] been a while. I’m- Just. Wanted to let you know that I’m in the area. And, first of all… fuck you, for what you did to, to me, you– ugh. You bastar- [hiccup] -d. I’m calling to let you know that I’m much better off without you. Me and my girls are havin’ a ball… a… a ball here tonight. Without you…….. Ugh, who am I kidding. I don’t even know why I called you. You probably haven’t even thought about me in months. I know I’m g’nna [hiccup] wake up tomorrow and forget I even sent this message so– [hiccup] just do me a favor, okay? You owe me that, after breaking my heart the way you did. Just forget you never saw this message, okay? Delete it. It’ll be better for both ‘f us if we just pretended this never happened. Fuck. How do I delete a voice message? I–

[???]: Girl, who are you talking to?

I gotta go, Waka, but… [sigh] I miss you. Okay? Fuck, I really miss you. I would never admit that sober. Thankfully I’m gonna delete this message before you ever see it, so it’ll be like it never happened. Not like I would have remembered anyway. Okay. Which button is it again? Ah, wait, shi –”

[ End of Message. ]

[Automated]: Would you like to play the next message?

[ No. ]

[ Play ]

[Automated]: Replaying message from ‘Pretty thing’.

-

The harsh neon lights buzzed against the night sky tonight at the Eclipse. Even from where you were standing on the curb, you could hear the bass throbbing through the pavement, the vibrations in the air, the smell of sweaty bodies grinding a few yards away. 

YOU  |  I’m here babe wya

Hitting send, you pocketed your phone. You took a deep breath, tightened your grip around the strap of your purse, and then stepped forward. The moment you entered the club, a wave of sound and sensation enveloped you. The air was thick with perfumes and colognes, the faint aroma of liquor lingering somewhere – probably the ground. 

Disco lights painted the crowd in fleeting bursts of colors, highlighting dancing bodies, dazzling outfits, and sin. 

In all honesty, you had no idea why Emma had even thought to invite you out here tonight. It had been eons since your last trip to the club. But, still, she said some event was happening and she didn’t want to go alone, and who were you if not the world’s best friend?

You searched the crowd for her familiar face and, sure enough, there she was, standing by the bar on the far end of the room. Blonde hair down to her back and a sweetheart dress that revealed just enough cleavage for you to know she was scouting out free drinks tonight, she was hard to miss.

You couldn’t help but smile as she waved you down wildly, gold bangles glinting beneath the club’s kaleidoscopic lights. There was an old song playing, one you couldn’t quite remember.

Emma’s grin only widened after you approached the bar and took a seat next to her. You scooted a little closer, cupping your hands over your mouth and shouting, “You weren’t kidding about this place!”

She laughed, a sound that you could almost hear in your head despite not being able to catch it over the music. “It’ll be fun! You brought ‘ya dancin’ shoes, right?”

Your eyes darted over to the dancefloor, where bodies writhed beneath the bass of the music. The sensation you felt was somewhere between excitement and hesitation. “I ‘dunno if I’m there yet, Emma– It’s been a while!”

“What?” Emma shouted. She rolled her eyes, glancing down at the other end of the bar. “I didn’t bring you here to mope, babe, we’re getting plastered!”

On cue, the bartender returned with two green drinks in hand, furnished with tiny little umbrellas. He set them down in front of the two of you, reached behind the bar, and then set two more red cocktails down before you.

“Let’s get this party started!” Emma squealed, sliding one of the green drinks your way. She held her drink in your direction, “To girls’ night!”

You clinked your glasses together in a toast.

Taking a cautious sip, you allowed the sweet concoction to flood your parched mouth. It was coconutty, with a hint of lime and –

The liquor hit you like a punch to the face. You scrunched your nose up, coughing a bit. 

“Shit, that’s strong,” You remarked.

“It’s a Coco Loco!” She answered the question you had yet to ask. “With two extra shots of rum! I knew you’d like it!”

You weren’t really a fan honestly, but you didn’t want to tell her that. Not after she had just spent money on drinks for the both of you.

“It’s good,” You said anyway. 

Emma clapped a hand on your shoulder, “That’s the spirit!” She exclaimed happily. Her makeup was creased a bit around the corners of her lips, where you knew she had been smiling all night. “Melt the pain away, girl.”

-

Wakasa stumbled out of the car, pulling his arm out of Shinichiro’s tight grasp. His annoyance was palpable in the way he kicked the car door shut behind him, paying no mind to the driver as he pulled away. He stood now on the edge of a bustling sidewalk in the middle of what might have been the shadiest-looking corner in Shibuya. He took a long drag from his cigarette, tendrils of smoke melting into the midnight blue around them.

“The hell are we doing at a seedy joint like this?” Waka grumbled, voice a low growl of discontent. With a scowl, he readjusted the collar of his deep purple dress shirt. 

Shinichiro bounced on the balls of his feet, stuffing his hands into his pockets with a sigh. His breath materialized into the air in front of him, a cloud of white amidst the darkness. 

“Figured we’d let loose a ‘lil tonight,” He spoke with such casualty that it almost came off as a little dismissive. He nudged Wakasa playfully, a humorous glint playing in his dark eyes. “Find some loose local girls for a quickie, yeah?”

Under any other circumstances, he would have been jumping at the opportunity. Seeing as he had spent the last few months attempting to drink his regrets away, however, he was anything but chipper at the prospect.

Waka’s annoyance only deepened, brows furrowing. He took another puff of his cig, blowing out the smoke with a quiet scoff. “I’m over fuckin’, man,” he groaned. “I’m goin’ celibate… startin’ today, no more bitches f’me.” 

“Like I’d ever believe that from you,” Shinichiro snorted, a subtle grin playing at the corner of his thin lips. He slung an arm over Wakasa’s shoulders. The height difference between the two of them was emphasized as they walked side by side. “Jus’ give it an hour, Waka,” he urged, tone oddly persuasive. “If you hate it, we can leave. If you don’t have a chick’s legs wrapped around your neck by the end of the night, I owe you fifty.”

Waka sucked his teeth, irritation melting away with newfound curiosity. “Might do it ‘jus to spite ‘ya,” He retorted.

“Right. Wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Shinichiro replied, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. There was something in his tone that raised Wakasa’s suspicion, the slightest feeling that Shinichiro might be up to something. “And don’t be bitchy with me ‘jus because I won’t let you pregame a fuckin’ liquor bar.”

Waka shot Shinichiro a fiery glare, cigarette ember glowing bright, before flicking the thing onto the ground in one deliberate motion. “Blow me,” he muttered beneath his breath. 

The two men stood in front of the club’s entrance. Wakasa slowed, locking his gaze onto the club’s exterior. Then, with a reluctant sigh, Waka entered the building.

-

As the night wore on, you found yourself lost in the spell of the music, lost in the endless sea of dancing, grinding bodies. The colored lights were hot against your sweaty skin. You knew the makeup would be melting off of your face by the end of the night if you kept going on at this rate. Hell, your mascara had started migrating already.

Emma’s Just-dance-inspired moves were contagious. The two of you were dancing on one another, performing a routine you seemed to remember all too well for someone who hated playing Just Dance so much.

The club seemed to ebb and flow like a living organism tonight.

You had lost track of time a long time ago. The songs had begun to bleed together seamlessly. Somewhere along the way, you lost your sweater. The dress you had decided to wear was stuck to your waist, plastered down with sweat. 

Yet, in spite of this, you were having more fun than you had anticipated.

Your flow was broken only when Emma grabbed you by the arm and led you to an empty corner. The both of you caught your breath.

Cheeks hot and flushed, you sighed contentedly, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, Emma, but you were right.”

“You havin’ fun, girly?” She giggled, giving you a playful sock in the arm. “Told you you’d feel better if you got out of the house.”

You nodded, feeling slightly liberated. She was right. You were actually kind of glad that you came out of your shell for tonight. 

Emma raised a playful brow. “You want to get a refresher?”

With a nod and a thin-lipped smile, you let Emma lead you over to the bar.

The two of you took a seat for the second time that evening, taking a moment to cool down and catch your breath. 

Emma turned her attention to the bartender – the same one she had just tried to hit on 30 minutes ago, “Two waters, please,” She ordered.

You tuned the bar out after that. Feeling a little melancholic, your eyes scanned the scene. The lights, the bodies, the music, the drinks. It was all so… messy. Yet, still, there was that unmistakable electricity in the air tonight.

Just as you were about to turn back to Emma, your gaze locked onto a figure against the wall. Immediately the recognition set in, and your heart skipped more than a few beats. It seemed to stop altogether.

There, standing in the dim corner, the lights danced over his familiar features – pretty button nose, downturned eyes, arched brows. His hair was back in a messy bun tonight. Even now, he had that passive, unamused look on his face.

He looked exactly the same as he had the day he closed the door on you.

Well, if you want to be technical, you closed the door on him, but you meant that in the metaphorical sense.

His piercing eyes scanned the crowd with a touch of his signature indifference. He exuded an air of mystique, momentarily entrancing you all over again.

And even now, three months later, his effect on you had not wavered.

Emma’s touch on your arm brought you back to the present, breaking the spell he had cast. “Hey,” She asked, concern evident in her voice. “You good?”

Your eyes were drawn back to the entrance, and your heart sank when you spotted your blond, ex-situationship once again. Panic surged through your veins immediately, seizing your lungs. It felt as if the walls of the club had gotten much smaller, all of a sudden.

Waka was standing there by the entrance, only a few yards away, with Shinichiro by his side. He looked every bit as breathtaking as you remembered him to be.

And he was looking right at you.

He can’t see me.

I need to hide.

He can’t see me.

You whipped your head back around towards your friend, flashing her a faux smile. “I’m gonna,” You swallowed, voice unsteady. “I’m gonna go back to the floor.”

Without even waiting for a response, you turned abruptly and slid off of the barstool. Your pulse was racing as you pushed through the wall of bodies behind the bar and made a beeline for the dance floor.

Emma was calling after you. You didn’t care.

The urgency to put distance between you and your past had consumed you whole. The bass pounded in your ears, matching the rapid thrum of your heartbeat. The music drowned out her voice as you merged with the sea of people once again.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried your best to lose yourself in the rhythm. Your movements were a frenzied, frantic mess of anxious movements. This time, when the lights flickered over you, the shadows they cast brought back memories of your history, your mistakes. 

I will not let him ruin my night, you told yourself.

Yet, still, you dared one last glance around. 

It was to scout the area for a suitor. That’s what you told yourself. 

Subconsciously, however, you searched for Waka amidst the colorful, blurred throng. Your heart began to race again when you spotted him by the bar, head turning slowly, eyes flitting over the club scene. It looked like he was searching for something.

The realization hit you like a train.

He’s looking for me.  

a/n: aaaand we are back with another cliffhanger! I'm so sorry. i have been, so bad to u all lately. life has been crazy! I think I may be shadowbanned, idk, I still dk how tumbly works. anyway! I did not like writing this chapter but it was a totally necessary segway into the next one, which will be very very very very very... jus trust me yall will love it. you know the drill, leave comments, suggestions, anything in down below and I will like, cry reading ur messages as always. Next chap is gonna be my fave like everrrr omg...

I obviously do not own tokyo revengers or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

taglist: @tokyorevengersslut69, @mikeys-bike-slut, @midtwenties-angst, @sleepysnk, @enneadec, @noaabean, @galactict3a, @em1e, @drakensdarling, @wakashawty, @satanlovesusall666, @sin-and-punishment, @mztoman, @sanzuicide, @bontensbabygirl, @strawberrychrome, @scaraphobia, @bertholdts--butt, @xiedoll, @missgab, @keiskyutie

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[luna-writes-stuff]

Home Sweet Home, Lucifer

Song link

Fanfic, gn! reader

Reunion, platonic/romantic (depends on interpretation), S13 E07!

Word count: 1963

Tw: I had absolutely no motivation when I wrote this, so I’m sorry it if sucks. Use of swear words, SPN series centred. Obvious spoilers for S13. That’s all? Can be read as platonic. (NOT PROOFREAD)

Summary: When Lucifer finally escapes out of Apocalypse world, he is left on the streets without powers. It would seem as if you were meant to come across him, and save him from the people mistaking him for a homeless person.

Requested by @blueangel-love . I’m sorry if it isn’t what you had hoped! Inspiration was very low for this one but I did my best. I made another Lucifer reunion fic this month! It’s a better version! You can find it right here <33

Buy me a coffee/force me to write more!

“You know I'm a dreamer

But my heart's of gold.

I had to run away high,

So I wouldn't come home low.”

Not two seconds ago, he had stood in a different world, fighting to get out of it, and now, his face was met with the hard concrete of the sidewalk. Bright sunlight immediately blinded him, the sight very different than what he had been used to in those past short weeks. Confusion seeped into him as he roughly got up, looking at all the people walking around him.

“What is this?” He muttered to himself. “Cincinnati?” He was deliberately ignored by bypassers, only gaining dirty looks, or eyes directly glued to the ground. “Excuse me, could you tell me where I am?” He wondered to a woman, but she ran from him before he had the chance to resume. “Just a moment of your time, sir? ‘Cause I don’t know…” But the man had already left before he could finish his sentence.

This was stupid. He was Lucifer of all people. He wasn’t to be ignored by simple humans. He could curse himself for even trying to be polite.

“Oh my god, when are they ever gonna get those people off the street?” A woman scoffed as she and her friend pushed past him, ignoring his incredulous looks. “Excuse me? Those people?” He repeated, following them in slight offence. “No eye contact, Beverly.” The same woman mumbled. “You have no idea who you’re talking to, lady.” Lucifer threatened, though it didn’t come off as terrifying as it usually did. He knew it.

“Just when things went right,

It doesn't mean they were always wrong.

Just take this song,

And you'll never feel left all alone.”

The woman sighed, reaching into her pocket as she handed the blonde a dollar bill. “Here. And don’t go spending it on drugs now.” Scoffing at the little paper, Lucifer balled it up, throwing it over his shoulder. He chuckled at her, shaking his head in disbelief: “I’m Lucifer.” But as he snapped his fingers, nothing happened to her. Instead of a bloodcurdling scream or a plea for mercy, a joyful laugh came out. “Honey, you’re not Lucifer. My ex-husband’s Lucifer.”

You didn’t know how it even happened. You watched him forced into an otherworldly portal not a month ago, and suddenly, the devil himself had been standing on the sidewalk of a random town. It couldn’t have been a coincidence that he was there. He must have been looking for something.

Dread settled in as you watched him threaten the ladies, though they didn’t seem scared by his appearance. “Oh my god.” You whispered to yourself, shoving your fake ID back into your pocket before running up to the three, placing your hand on Lucifer’s shoulder. “Hey, there you are!”

Immediately, the fallen angel spun around, his eyes widening as he came face to face with you. “Y/N?” He voiced, his voice flooded with relief, which you had trouble understanding. “Oh, am I happy to see you!”

“Take me to your heart.

Feel me in your bones.

Just one more night.

And I'm coming off this long and winding road.”

You and Lucifer hadn’t been the best of friends in all honesty. Out of everything you had to deal with and he had to deal with, you simply seemed to be bothered about each other the least. In fact, you had actually helped him a handful of times - if that didn’t include him trying to murder everyone and take over this world. Be that as it may, it still took you by a huge surprise when he wrapped his arms around you to force you into a hug.

You didn’t quite know what to do. If his intention was to smother you to death, he was failing miserably. You awkwardly patted his back before he let go of you. “I am so sorry for the inconvenience!” You faked towards the two women. “Forgot to take his meds this morning.” “What?” He interrupted, waving his hands in dismissal: “No, I’m fine.” “Thank you for looking out for him!”

You quickly grabbed the angel’s arm, setting a fast pace as you tried to pace your way through the crowds. He simply followed you as if it was the most natural thing ever. When the biggest crowds of people had departed, you stopped, turning to him with a scowl. “What the hell were you thinking?” You scolded. “And how the hell did you get back here?”

He refused to answer. He just looked at you as if you were the most interesting thing he had ever seen. “Lucifer?” “I’m just so glad you’re here.” He breathed, pulling you into another hug. You frowned at the notion, now hugging back, though nowhere near cosy yet.

“I'm on my way, I'm on my way.

Home sweet home.”

“Are you okay?” You asked him, pulling from his embrace for a second time. “Yeah, yeah, just fine.” He shrugged. “I gotta figure this out because this…” He snapped his fingers, pointing towards a man across the street who was caught up in his phone. “Isn’t working.”

You breathed an ‘ah’ of understanding, shaking your head at him. “Your test drive for your grace is to intend on killing people then see if they explode?” “Yeah!” He laughed, as if it was the most obvious thing. You merely nodded at him in uncertainty. “Right. Yeah, sometimes I understand why the Winchesters hate you.” “Wow,”

You ignored his sarcastic scoff. “What are you doing here?” Two people walked past you, causing you to grip his shirt, pulling him to the side of the street. Lucifer seemed completely unfazed by it, easily answering your question as if it was the most obvious thing in the world: “Oh, Kevin opened a rift and I jumped in.” “Kevin?” You voiced in surprise. “Other world Kevin,” he clarified, nodding his head from side to side. “Met my other world brother; total douchebag.”

“Tonight, tonight

I'm on my way, I'm on my way.

Home sweet home.”

You didn’t respond to that, still unsure of what to make of the entire situation. Lucifer smiled at you, widening his arms in glee. “But you’re here!” “Yeah,” you nodded. “We should get you some clean clothes.” “Don’t worry about it,” he shook off. “I gotta get to Heaven, though. Get some extra juice.”

You could have cursed him for immediately running off to heaven again. Regaining your grip on his shirt, you forced him into a back alley, making sure you weren’t seen by anyone. Pushing him against the wall, you gave him an accusing look. “Lucifer,” “Hello.” He smiled, that ever-evident cheeky expression on his face. You did your best to keep your face neutral. “You can’t just come here out of nowhere without any grace whatsoever, then expect to waltz into Heaven and expect them to hand some extra to you.” “Well,” he sighed, stepping out of your hold, shrugging as if it was nothing.

“I can.” All you gave him was an unimpressed look. He frowned at it. “I’m not weak.” “I could take you in a fight right now.” You remarked. Once more, that stupid cheeky expression returned: “Oh, are you sure?” “That wasn’t a challenge.” You sighed.

“Too bad. Was looking forward to it.”

“You know that I've seen

Too many romantic dreams.

Up in lights, falling off the silver screen.”

Asshole or not, he knew when to stop. Sometimes. But now, he could see the conflict in your eyes. He knew you got along well with the Winchesters and their angel. “Listen,” he mumbled. “I appreciate the concern, but I am an excellent bluff,”

You couldn’t suppress your chuckle at his words. “Right,” “Not to you apparently.” He continued. “I spot tells.” “Which is why I like you.”

You weren’t an idiot. You knew what had happened with Heaven and everything - Castiel had told you many times. And though there was nothing you could do to halt Lucifer’s ultimate demand of the sanctuary again, you never failed to remember the disappointed looks on the faces of your closest friends. You couldn’t even completely explain why you and Lucifer got along so well. You simply seemed to.

“My heart's like an open book

For the whole world to read.

Sometime nothing keeps me together at the seams.”

“Come on,” the angel almost whined. “I really gotta get amped up. Right now, I’m just… useless.” “Ouch,” you commented, knowing his celestial powers weren’t there now, which practically made him human. “So, will you help me?” He finished.

You observed him for a short second. Considering everything he had done in the past, he looked truly miserable now. And that wasn’t necessarily due to his appearances. Something had changed within him and you could easily see it. And if you could, so could others.

“If I said no, you couldn’t explode me.” “No,” he answered. “But you’re gonna say yes.” His confidence was what took you aback. “Why is that?” “Because I like you,” he spoke plainly. “And you like me. It makes sense.”

“I'm on my way, I'm on my way.

Home sweet home.

Tonight, tonight

I'm on my way, just set me free.

Home sweet home.”

He was so full of himself at some times. It made you all the more cautious of his actual plan. “And your plan after regaining your grace? Back to ruling Heaven?” “Haha, you’re so funny.” He spoke sarcastically, his laugh dramatically fake. Then, he shook his head, shrugging to his next words as if it was nothing: “I’m going to meet my son.”

Something in your face shifted upon his words. He saw it immediately, taking a step back at your reaction: “You met him?” Even if you would lie, he’d know. “Yeah.” “So, you can lead me to him?” He encouraged, his voice filled with eagerness. You had trouble rejecting it.

“Lucifer, listen. There are bigger issues going on right now.” “Such as?” He deadpanned. “Bills? Food? Other mortal things?” “Asmodeus.” He stopped ranting as soon as you spoke those words, disgust evident in his features. He didn’t even try to hide it in his words: “Ugh, he was such a pain in the ass.”

“Yes, and now he’s our pain in the ass.”

“I'm on my way, I'm on my way.

Home sweet home.

Yeah, I'm on my way, just set me free.”

His eyes fell on his surroundings for reasons you could not place. Usually, he wouldn’t think twice about dismissing your offer and disappearing. But you were a welcomed sight after the apocalypse world, and he couldn’t just disappear now. You were his safest bet without his grace.

“Okay,” he relented. “We’re going to Heaven, regain a bit of my grace, I’ll help you handle that asshole Asmodeus and you arrange a little meeting - father-son, you know?” You blinked rapidly at him, still not sure how you managed to convince without as much as a ‘please’ or ‘thank you’. He couldn’t stand your hesitance.

“Come on, whaddya say?” The Winchesters would hate you for this.

You’d recover.

“Get rid of Asmodeus first,” you offered. “Then, we’ll see how it goes.” “I knew there was another reason I liked you!” Lucifer exclaimed as he clasped your shoulder, unable to withstand the smile on his face.

This was probably going to turn out to be a horrible idea, but you’ve done worse things in your long line of work. And there seemed to be something about him now that made him much easier to read. If he was going to betray you, he would hurt himself doing it. He’s too vain to let that happen.

And besides, being close with the devil had its perks.

“Home sweet home.”

[allthingsfangirl101]

Extremely Long-Distance – Timothy McGee

Every morning, I wake up and instantly look at the picture of my husband and I on our wedding day. Whenever I look at that picture, the rock in my stomach makes it so I can't get out of bed for at least an hour.

My husband, Special Agent Timothy McGee, and his supervisor, Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, were in Afghanistan working on the suspicious death of a marine. Apparently, his head was shipped to his wife.

Tim isn't supposed to tell me about his cases but he knows my mind will come up with a worse case than he ever could. My cases usually ended in a shoot-out between the suspect and NCIS.

I try to busy myself during the day, but nothing kept my mind off my husband in the middle of a war. The nights were the worst. I haven't slept since Tim went overseas three days ago. To be honest, it took me a month to get used to sleeping next to him. Now that I have, I can't sleep without him.

Abby has called every day to check on me, but her phone calls have only made my anxiety worse. Every time the phone rings, I'm terrified they're calling to tell me something has happened to Tim.

I got back from grocery shopping for the third time this week. I walked aimlessly through the aisles, not really needing anything but not wanting to go home either. When I finally forced myself to go home, I slowly unpacked the random groceries.

I jumped when my phone rang. I couldn't help but hold my breath as I looked at the caller ID.

"Hi, Mom."

"You sound relieved," she said trying to sound happy but you could tell she was sad.

"Guess I am," I shrugged. I put my phone on speaker and kept putting away groceries.

"You went grocery shopping," she sighed. "Again? Honey, isn't that like your third time this week."

"It gets me out of the house," I said simply.

"Tim's still in Afghanistan," Mom said like a statement instead of a question.

"Yes," I said that word getting caught in my throat. "He is."

"Have you called him?"

"He's in Afghanistan, Mom," I sighed. "I can't call him. I don't even know where he is in Afghanistan. I have no idea where the camp is. I have no idea how long he's going to be gone. I don't know."

My voice broke as tears filled my eyes. I took a shaky breath and spoke up before she could try to comfort me. "I got to go, Mom. I'll call you later."

I quickly hung up the phone as the sob escaped. I sat at our kitchen table, put my face in my hands, and sobbed.

I love my husband more than anything in this world, but moments like this made me hate his job.

When I finally calmed down, I stood up and made myself a small dinner. I spent the night, slowly drinking a glass of wine as I watched a random movie. Halfway through the movie, my phone started ringing. I looked at the phone number, extremely confused. Something in my gut told me to answer the call though.

"Hello?"

"Y/N? Can you hear me?"

"Tim!" I gasped. "You're calling. . . I can't believe. . . Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Tim chuckled.

"How's the case?" I asked, just to keep him talking.

"It's over," he said. "We should be shipping out in a few hours."

I let out a shaky breath at this news. My eyes filled with tears as I tried to think of what to say to him.

"That's good," I said, my voice soft. "Will Gibbs let you come home before going back to work?"

"I think so," Tim chuckled. "But you know Gibbs."

"I do," I nodded. "But I also know that he loves you and will let you come home to your wife who hasn't slept since you left."

There was silence on the line. I would've thought he had hung up, but I could hear him breathing. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he finally said. "I'll be home as soon as I can. I promise."

"I know," I said softly. I took a shaky breath before saying, "I love you."

Tim let out a small chuckle. "I love you too, Y/N. I promise to get home as soon as I can. And maybe we can both get a good night's sleep."

* * * * *

Eighteen hours later, I was sitting on the couch with a glass of wine and a book that was taking me longer than it should to finish. I gasped, almost spilling my wine when the door opened. I threw my book down and ran toward the door. Tim laughed when I jumped into his arms. He instantly caught me and held me tightly.

"I missed you," I sobbed into his shoulder.

"I missed you too, baby."

Masterlist

[mercurygray]

I know you said you were feeling your MotA girls, but maybe #28 turn the page for Molly and Rosie, please. Only if you're feeling it. Thank you!

The last time he'd been here, he'd been bombing the place.

Nuremberg certainly looked different from the ground, though the sight of so many crumbling houses and rubble strewn streets wasn't enough to change how Rosie felt about anything he'd done for the last three years. War was war and war was hell, and that was all there was to say about that. They were at the end of it now, and they would move forward.

The address he'd been sent to find was a still-standing warehouse - something of a marvel in this city filled with ruins. A soldier outside nodded in greeting, and he instinctively opened his wallet to show his pass, the official ID card they'd given him for the Palace of Justice.

"I'm looking for Sergeant Mahoney. I was told I'd be able to get a tour."

The soldier nodded him inside, and in he went, facing down huge racks of crates that seemed to go on for miles.

A woman was standing next to a desk, clipboard in hand. She was wearing a very beat-up field jacket and what looked to be jump trousers, her pockets baggy with extra equipment. Rosie suddenly wished he'd brought his bomber jacket, and not the wool overcoat that made him look like - well, a lawyer. (At least he'd left the briefcase back at the hotel.)

"Are you Sergeant Mahoney?"

She looked up from the clipboard. "I was told I might expect a Major Rosenthal this morning. Are you him?"

Rosie wished again for the jacket. "It's just Mister, actually, Sergeant. I officially got out of the army a few months ago."

What she thought about that he really couldn't tell - she was studying him with a long and patient look. "They told me you were a pilot - a rather good one."

Rosie tried to bite back a smile about what counted as 'rather good' after 52 combat missions and a list of awards so long even he couldn't remember what they all were. "It has been said."

That was what made her smile. "Most pilots wouldn't let you forget that."

He shrugged and smiled. "I'm not most pilots, Sergeant."

She nodded. "Well, Major. What would you like to see? I have a wide variety of Europe's finest all at your disposal. What's your fancy? Landscapes? Pastorals? Portraits? Sculpture? A favorite artist I can find for you?"

It sounded overwhelming, less like a museum and more like the private tour he wasn't sure he wanted. He couldn't say, exactly, what had brought him here, but it wasn't that - the mindless acquisition. "I didn't come to see anything in particular. Just mentioned I wanted to get out of the office for a bit and they sent me here. Show me ...show me your favorite, Sergeant."

She looked at him for a moment before giving half a smile. "All right."

"So how does a museum curator find herself in Europe?" He asked, trying to be collegial as she walked him down a long aisle, boots echoing in the half-dark.

"Not a curator," she corrected. "I'm an archeologist. I had a brother at Pearl. Joined the WAC after…you know." She turned to look at him, hardly breaking a long stride. "How does a lawyer get into the business of flying airplanes?"

"He decides he doesn't like bullies. How does an archeologist decide she wants to jump out of them?" He pointed to the patch on her jacket, the Airborne patch she still hadn't removed from her shoulder. "Screaming Eagles is a paratrooper outfit, isn't it?"

Another smile - a real one, this time. "She decides she doesn't like bullies either. And the pay's pretty good. After we got all the way to Germany they decided they could use someone like me and I stayed on here." She checked the number on the end of a shelf, counted in a few boxes, and removed a frame from the shelf, pulling it down and setting it onto the floor. "Well. Here we are, Major. This is my favorite."

The painting in question was a portrait, done in a plain, workaday style - a simple head-up view of a woman with a reddish cast to her hair, wearing a black dress and a string of pearls. The pearls gleamed from the canvas, easily the most noticeable thing about the piece. Rosie wasn't much of an art critic but nothing about this was ringing any bells. "Anyone I should know?

"Nope. Artist is unknown," Mahoney said with a vague smile. "I don't know what her name is, either. I've been calling her Ruth, after a friend of mine. We've got all sorts in this warehouse - Rembrandts and silver that belonged to the Rothschilds. And we have a hell of a lot of this - bits of people's lives that they'll never get back. She's not important on her own - but she's...she's someone's wife, or sister, or aunt. She's important to someone. There's a note on the back about the framer - that'll give me a town to start in. Maybe I can get her home." She gave a long hard look at the painting, her gaze thoughtful. "I spent…eighteen months taking away lives, and now I get to give them back."

And isn't that why I'm here, too, he thought silently. A warehouse full of treasures, and she shows me this. Most curators wouldn't let you forget what they've got.

But she's not a curator. "Sergeant, are you free this evening?" He asked suddenly. She looked up. "I'd like to take you to dinner, if I may."

She let out a surprised laugh. "I'm not sure that would be regulation, sir. Sergeants can't be seen out to dinner with Majors."

"We could start with you dropping the Major and calling me Rosie."

Another smile - wider this time, like she was turning a page on something, letting it come into full view. "Oh, so you're that Rosenthal." The way she said it made him smile - she'd known the whole time, and was just stringing him along to test him. The desire for dinner increased.

"I did say I wasn't like the other pilots," he offered with a shrug. "Should we say...six o'clock? I promise I'll do a better job of blending in."

'Not too good a job," she said with a smile that charmed him entirely. "I'm not sure I can be seen out with a pilot, either."

-

Molly Mahoney joins us from The Darkening Sky where she is a paratrooper, an academic, a memoirist, and somehow usually always in the middle of an argument about ethics.

[mayzingly]

all the s2 ep3 parts ruined with yapping

!!SPOILERS, IF YOU HAVENT WATCHED ANY OF THEM GO WATCH THEM!!

I haven’t seen an episode be split up in parts since s1 ep10, so either Brittany decided to do it in parts instead of all at once because she knew we would complain about it literally being three months since the last one, or THEYRE COOKING

^^^^^^^^

so the episode starts with them walking on a path, which means im allowed to assume that Pyrare and Ajacenus went in the forest and then got ajavex from somewhere.

first thing I notice right off the bat is how enthusiastic they are about beating their sister up😭😭 like y’all are forgetting that whatever injuries ajaceare gets, ajacent has to deal with. they just don’t fade once she becomes uncorrupted, do they

that’s all I had to say about the first part, since it was surprisingly more boring than I remember

^^^^^^^^

this is my favorite out of the prevs.

the episode starts with ajaceare running like she just got 500$ from her mom and was told she could spend it on anything. dub then asks her how collecting pieces has been going. she pulls out a BIG ASS BAG. if im correct there are 20 artists featured in jsab minus the ones that already gave their pieces and some of them are one timers (avenza, pegboard nerds (iirc), plesco, silva hound, nanobii, TECHNICALLY omnitica, etc etc) so like where did she get all them pieces???

there are multiple theories about who those people could be, but I choose to believe theyre 2/5 out of Shirobon because

THATS A TAIL. AND YOU KNOW WHAT HAS A TAIL? A FOX. AND YOU KNOW WHATS A SONG BY SHIROBON IN JSAB? FOX!!! TOTES DIDNT RUN ON ONE HOUR OF SLEEP LAST NIGHT😃😃😃😃

also, I hope this is just a transition because OTHERWISE HOW DID SHE NOT NOTICE THEM.

one sentence to describe this episode: tri-py.

anyways, onto the next one. you better get your popcorn ready cause im about to RANT.

*cracks knuckles*

and OF COURSE SHES ON A TREE.

why is literally every monster either corrupted or a pacifist in tpc. like YALL GOT FIGHTING SKILLS, USE EM “don’t you know we monsters never attack shapes??” That’s only for YOU, your SAILOR MOON HAVING ASS HAIR LOOKING ELDER SISTER, and “SAILOR MOON”’S BITCHASS BARRACUDA HAVING FRIEND.

girl. im sorry but if I was a monster id be throwing these hands left and right.

“How could you have gotten corrupted like this?” gee idk, maybe a corrupted person touched her!??? Shocking wow “You’re supposed to stay in the mountains like the rest of us!!” bro shes 1000, im pretty sure shes able to not be huddled under u all the time.

“Now give me your pieces!!”

again, this makes

NO.

FUCKING.

SENSE!!!

IF SHE WAS TALKING ABOUT PYRARE, SHE WOULDVE SAID “Give me HIS pieces!” But instead shes saying “Your”.

I don’t know WHY the hell Ajacenus and ajavex would even have pieces, because it’s clear that they don’t have the triangle symbol like every other group member, but even if they did, IT WOULD BE INCOMPLETE BECAUSE AJACENUS IS SUPPOSED TO BE WICKED - AVENZA AND AJAVEX IS DEADLOCKED - F-777!!! SEE HOW ITS TWO DIFFERENT ARTISTS???

AND PLUS, EVEN IF SHE DID JUST MEAN PYRARE, HE WOULDNT HAVE A SINGLE PIECE BECAUSE THEY HAVENT GONE TO THE LAND OF TRIANGLES YET!!!

CAUSE I KNOW DAMN WELL SHE DIDNT FORGET TO ANIMATE THE HAIR DETAILS. I DONT GET WHY THEYRE LEFT OUT OF THIS, THEY COULDVE USED THE SHIELD FROM HER DRESS INSTEAD!!

PYRARE, MOVE!!! QUIT BEING LAZY!!! MOVE YOUR FACE!! DUMBAS-

AND THEN YOU HAVE THE NERVE TO CLAP. BRO.

BROOOO🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

one sentence to describe this episode: BRITTANY COOKED BUT NOBODYS HUNGRY🔥🔥

last and definitely least, is the 4th part. now, the whole video was a bossfight so I don’t have much to say except SHE GOT PUFF PONYTAILS YAAAAAAAAA

I hope she isn’t batshit ugly or I might just remove s2 ep3 part 5 from my consciousness once it comes out

…yeah I had to remove it from my consciousness because WTH is this

“What happened to me?” Girl do you have the big D? (dementia)

HAHAHHH THE STUPID FACE HE MADE IN THE HALLOWEEN SHORT IS BACK, only thing I’m happy about. However…

“It isnt right for a male to hit a female” dude sybau. you throw hands all you want if you feel provoked. pussy.

anyways, onto dub. his section was the only entertaining part. Seeing him tweak like that genuinely made me go “😧” IRL

“Which caretaker is it!? I swear if it’s the anxious one…” made me BUST OUT laughing. Though I do wonder what he would’ve done if the flower lied to him and said it was “the anxious one” who I’m assuming is cube.

“So you decided to come out of retirement?” im curious about this, because… how does he even go into retirement in the first place?

though, I’m gonna talk about three things here.

1. I think (Altered) finally gives us an answer to what Circusic meant in episode 2. “The same way you are!” So we all saw him get revived by the reaper and turn into circubit, so when he says that I can only guess that Iris got revived that same way. You get revived, but with some perks, aka ALTERATIONS.

2. Every flower is infected? That means George is probably back.

3. Circusic is infected??? Either he doesn’t know that hes uncorrupted; or HES BAAAACK!!!!

[kenyatta]

NOT LONG AFTER she started, Uber deactivated Barbosa’s account out of the blue. So she switched to renting one on Lyft from the same guy. Now she drove as “Shakira.” When the Lyft app prompted Barbosa to confirm her identity by scanning her license, she texted the guy she was renting from: What now? He sent back a photo of Shakira’s ID. Oh. She was real. He paid Shakira a fee each week. Driving without a license, under the table on a tourist visa, loaded Barbosa with stress. One night, Barbosa picked up a passenger at 2 am and he tried to kiss her. She had to fight him off and left him one star on the app; she didn’t want to risk calling the cops. Another time, she was pulled over for having her lights off. Barbosa froze as the officer strode up to her window, worried she might get her car towed and end up in jail, or even—who knows?—deported. She showed the cop her Brazilian driver’s license, and said she’d left her American one at home. He let her go. In WhatsApp groups, and while waiting for riders at Logan Airport, Barbosa chatted up other Brazilian drivers also renting accounts. They traded tips about driving without papers, the nuances of the fuzzy don’t-ask-don’t-tell status quo in a country that hasn’t passed comprehensive immigration reforms in more than three decades. Far from an ICE officer on every corner, she heard, if you kept your head down, didn’t drink and drive or pick fights, you could manage. [...] One of her customers left their wallet in her car. She followed the woman’s convoluted instructions to return it, driving to two far-flung locations over two hours. Miffed, at one point Barbosa opened the wallet. She looked at the woman’s license, blonde with blue eyes. Barbosa snapped a picture. She thought the woman might tip her or at least say “thank you” for having wasted two hours, unpaid, to do her a favor. Instead, the woman was rude and short, giving Barbosa the push she’d been looking for. “I said, yeah, now I’m going to use this.” Over the next few weeks, she would click through the driver onboarding process on both Uber and Lyft, reading over the steps to create her own account, mulling the risk. Finally, lying in bed on Christmas night, the first one she’d spent without her family, it was time: She opened her phone and scrolled to the blonde woman’s license. Barbosa uploaded the license to the Uber app. She used the woman’s name but her own insurance and registration. She entered her own iCloud email and phone number and set her own picture—brown hair, brown eyes—on the driver profile. She made up a Social Security number, submitted the application, and went to sleep. The next day, Uber approved the account. Like that, Barbosa was in business for herself.

[wandas-luvr]

you know just how to be cruel

pairing: leigh shaw x fem!reader

summary: leigh comes over in the middle of the night to ask you a favor.

warnings: 18+ minors dni! soft(ish)dom!leigh (she is still her regular amount of mean), idk probably mommy kink undertones because that's how i live now, fingering (r receiving), oral (r receiving), praise, criminal amounts of teasing, leigh being a rude, condescending bitch but she makes it up to you, leigh being unrightfully possessive (but it's okay bc it's hot), mediocre aftercare bc leigh

-

you look at the clock on your phone as you hear a loud, repetitive knock at your door. you ignore it, deciding no good could come from suspicious knocking at 3:45 am on a thursday, sighing and turning over, getting sucked back into whatever trashy reality tv show was coming on.

then your phone buzzes. once. twice. three times in the span of a minute. before you even get the chance to pick it up to see who it is, you receive a call. you look at the caller id suspiciously: leigh shaw. you click to answer immediately, having heard the news about her husband just recently, wondering if she was calling after missing your condolences call when you were told.

before you could even get a word out you here her voice on the other end of the line. short and clipped, no room to argue or joke with her.

"i'm outside, let me in, it's cold out."

you get up and walk to the door, eyebrows furrowed, wondering why on earth leigh shaw would show up to your door at this hour, especially after what had happened with matt. upon opening you see leigh, clearly upset, but not appearing to be sad. the only thing you can see in her eyes is anger.

"leigh, what are you..?" you cut yourself off, not wanting to upset her more or make her feel unwelcome, "are you okay?"

she scoffs at you, rolling her eyes and walking straight past you into your home.

"don't do that, you know better."

you sigh, clearly, this would not be a very pleasant night.

"you're right, i'm sorry. i'll ask again, but if you get pissed, remember you're the one who told me to say it. what the fuck are you doing here?"

"better. lose the tone next time though, it's not cute on you. i need you to do me a favor."

you chuckle slightly, trying to lighten the mood or at least diffuse the tension the elephant in the room has been creating since she stepped into your apartment.

"awfully big talk for someone who is very rudely asking me for a favor."

"my husband died a month ago, i don't have to ask your permission to be bitter. and last time i checked, you weren't in charge of me."

you knew exactly what she was talking about. before she had met matt, she asked you to experiment with her, leading you through a series of heartbreaks and letdowns until you couldn't face it anymore and left her. throughout the six months the two of you were "together" she took you on a totally of five dates, showing up late to three of them. you had begun to feel like all she used you for was sex, and you simply couldn't bear it anymore. not when you were aching for her to love you the way she told you she did.

you look away, biting your lip, taking a deep breath to collect yourself. you didn't want to set her off, and she clearly wasn't in the right place to hear that she wasn't in charge of you either.

she walks towards you slowly, lifting your chin to encourage you to look up into her eyes, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

"you know what i'm here for, baby." she smiled, sickeningly sweet, with a condescending scrunch of her eyebrows and nod of her head. "the question is: are you gonna give it to me? hm?"

you freeze, you feel your chest constricting and can hear yourself swallow thickly, as you consider. ethically, you know it's wrong. you know it will only crush you and give leigh the quick distraction shes looking for, nothing more, but you can't help it. everything about her makes you lightheaded and weak in the knees, and you knew she'd take care of you, she always had been so generous.

"leigh...i don't think-"

"shh, baby, that's why it's perfect. you don't need to think with me, remember?" she looks into your eyes, looking for any signs of true unwillingness, before pressing the softest of kisses just behind your ear. you can feel her smile against your skin as your breath hitches, or course she remembered.

"love..?" she trails off, waiting for some sign of a response from you, settling for a simple look into her eyes. "are you gonna let me fuck you? make you feel good just like i used to?"

you bite your lip, nodding, mumbling a quiet "please.."

you watch the grin spread across her face, she knew she had you the moment you opened the door.

"see! i knew you'd remember how much you missed me!" she pushes you back toward your couch, leading you to sit on the arm as she stands between your legs, wrapping you up in a deep, heated kiss. "hmmm, that's my girl."

you almost retort, going to tell her she has no right to call you that, when, as if she could sense it, she tugged on your hair, clearly a preventative warning to watch your mouth.

as a reward for your obedience, you feel her lips start to move downward, drifting to your cheek, then your jaw, down to your neck, clearly leaving bruises in her wake.

she chuckles against your skin, hot breath tickling your neck, when you instinctively tip your head to give her more room. smiling at the way she'd created a pattern of muscle memory in you that would never fade no matter how many years passed.

you feel her hands untangle from your hair and drop to your thighs, before she pulls back to look at you: flushed and breathless before she'd even started with you. she gently rubs her thumbs in place, causing you to squirm towards her, barely stifling an embarrassing whine. you internally cringe as you can see the gears turning in her head, watching her piece together your reactions, before she gasps softly, clearly having figured you out.

"awww, sweetheart, it's been a while hasn't it? no one's touched you in so long, i bet you're just soaked," her hands drift towards your pajamas shorts, her fingers pulling the flimsy material aside to get a pick at your panties. "oh, honey, look at you. you made such a mess for me! oh, i bet you're just aching, aren't you?"

you nod, canting your hips up as you feel her fingertips barely ghosting along the gusset of your panties. she shoots you a look, cowing you immediately, your pleasure had always been on her terms.

she smiles, before clearly growing impatient herself, pulling your panties to the side and lightly running two fingers between your folds. a shiver wracks your body as she gasps at your wetness, playing with it between her fingers cockily. something about her soft smirk would never fail to make you clench around nothing.

you feel her fingers run up your slit as slow as human possible, until they finally reach your clit, your head tipping back and mouth opening the minute her fingers so much as graze it.

"awww," she exclaims through a chuckle, "god, you really were aching for it. that's it, pretty girl, you just shut your eyes and enjoy it. no thinking, just let it feel good, yeah?"

you nod, moaning softly, as her fingers start to circle your clit, just the way she knew you liked. your nails digging into the arm of the sofa underneath you as leigh played you like a fiddle, muttering dirty phrases under her breath endlessly.

"fuck, you look so good. does that feel nice, baby? oh, i bet it does, sweet girl! yeah, you're welcome, honey, i know this is what you needed."

as you pant and moan underneath her leigh decides she's bored of this, wordlessly bending down to her knees in front of you, fingers drifting downward as well to circle your entrance. laughing when she feels how you try to suck her fingers in as you clench around nothing.

"leigh, please, i need you..." you moan out without thinking, desperate to get her to finally fuck you, "i need you so bad, leigh...please? i'll be good."

"hmm, good girl, begging and i haven't even asked you to yet. just fucking perfect for me." she mutters under her breath as she sinks her fingers into you, blowing softly on your clit to watch your hips jump. "there you go, take it for me, baby. you can do it, come on, be a good girl and just take what i give you."

you moan loudly, grip on the sofa tightening as your nails dig into the fabric. legs subconsciously spreading wider for her of their own accord, every movement of your body fine tuned to her liking.

"that's it, baby, tell me how good it feels. i like to hear that i'm doing a good job." she jokes, winking at you when you fake playfully at her before shutting you up with her mouth on your clit.

your eyes squeeze shut, moaning as she sucks your clit into her mouth, alternating with the pace of her fingers sliding in and out of you expertly. she grins against you, knowing she's winding you up in exactly the right way, touching all the right spots and saying all the right things to make you want her that much more.

she speeds up her pace, apparently intent on having you ruin the upholstery on your couch, smirking when she feels the telltale clench of your walls around her fingers.

"shhh, baby, you have to quiet down, okay? we wouldn't want you to wake up the neighbors, right?" she smiles condescendingly before doubling her efforts, intentionally making you louder for her just to watch you flush at the thought and try to quiet back down before repeating the cycle.

within minutes, she has you cumming on her fingers and her tongue, gripping her hair as she insists on cleaning you up just to hear you whine under her as she teases your sensitive clit.

"leigh, i-"

"shhh, baby, she don't have to talk about it. all we need to know is that it made me feel better, and it definitely made you feel better." she grins, pulling you against her and kissing your head softly, allowing you to lay against her as you catch your breath.

[rootvegetableboy]

cm dev log #5 - march 2024

march was mostly a resting month for me, so this dev log is a bit sparser than you may have come to expect. i’ve still got a few things to show off though, simple as they are ^_^

[photo ID: a gif of the player character shooting small orange bullets around a room. the bullets have a short sparking-out animation upon impact. end photo ID.]

to start, i figured out destroy animations. this is a great step forward because now my bullets actually make a little sparky explode upon impact instead of just disappearing… and since i figured out the code for this already, it won’t be too difficult to expand & apply elsewhere, like death animations for enemies. that’s the nice thing about coding: once the code works, i scarcely have to touch it again, and it’s easy to replicate.

actually, it’s kind of funny that i’m saying that, because the next thing i did was rework some amount of previous code for my save/load system.

[photo ID: the in-game menu’s save/load section. it has three available file slots, two of which are in use. end photo ID.]

way back in january i talked a little about building this system; i kind of glossed over the specifics but mentioned i had some issues with integration into the larger in-game menu. this wasn’t intentionally misleading, but i realized recently i’d left a lot unfinished in this regard… i hadn’t actually coded a way for the save file to be labelled by the room the file was created in, (the “Wicker - Neighborhood” in the respective january screenshot was just a placeholder) and i ran into a bunch of unexpected issues when i tried to create multiple save files. one of the funnier ones was that every file’s name would change to reflect the most recent one created, even though the files themselves were still distinct in every other way. it was a fun example of how sometimes what the problem looks like is very different from what the problem actually is: it looked like every save file was getting overwritten by the most recent save, but the only thing that was actually being overwritten was the displayed text.

after i fixed all the issues i could find and the save/load menu was working exactly as intended, i turned to my partner to express great relief at being finished with this particular system! and then halfway through my next sentence i realized that there is currently no way to access save files from the start menu, and you can only access them when you’re already in-game… so, still more work to do actually…

[photo ID: the first screenshot shows the inventory holding only the item “Parchment” with the options “BACK”, “USE”, “LOOK”, and “DISCARD”. “LOOK” is highlighted. the second screenshot shows the same inventory, no options visible after “LOOK” was selected, and there is now a textbox that displays “> It’s a little drawing of a ladybug playing the flute.” end photo ID.]

another change i made to the in-game menu was to the inventory. previously, item descriptions were displayed in small text above the inventory window and were not optional to view. the description was always there (provided you had at least one item) and would change respective to the item currently selected. i realized pretty quickly that this would get hard to read if the menu was opened against a light background… so now, the “LOOK” item option will provide extra info via regular textbox for those who desire it. (i’m planning on displaying the player’s HP in a different way for the same reason). i also think something as small as item descriptions are only really sought out by players who enjoy reading in games, so it’s not something i need displayed at all times. this way of handling the text also lets me write longer, multiple-page descriptions if i so desire :-)

aside from this, i made a few small adjustments to combat. the gameplay is still pretty easy at the moment, but the few adjustments i made will let things ramp up in difficulty nicely once i let the enemies also have bullets.

well, looks like that’s it for march. i hope you have a good april! i’ll see you all on may day ^_^

[thedeathlysallows]

memento mori

Chapter 1: Poison Ivy

Months Earlier

           “We’re sending you to Washington state. We’ve had reports of a newborn army in Seattle and the Volturi have done nothing but twiddle their thumbs. Find newborns. Eliminate the source. Report back immediately. Questions?”

           “No.”

           “Good. Oh, and Agent? Whatever you find, don’t let personal feelings get in the way of finishing the job.”

           Titania had said it with a knowing look in her eye that I couldn’t quite place during the debriefing, but as I get closer and closer to Forks there’s the dawning of realization. There are vampires here. I can feel them. The air is thick with their presence.

           My father’s house reeks of them.

           “I really wish you were staying with us, kiddo.” Dad hugs me tight after I walk through the front door and ushers me to the living room. I look him over for any subtle differences, but find none. He’s the same. Untouched by whatever darkness is lurking around.

           Good.

           At least Charlie Swan is safe.

           However, that leaves the question: why does this house smell like vampires have been living here for years?

           “Yeah, well, you know how it is. I like having my own space.” I make my tone apologetic, but in reality I’m relieved I won’t be staying with my dad. Technically, I shouldn’t even be in Forks. My mission is in Seattle. Titania will look the other way, though. She always does as long as I get the job done.

           I don’t love the idea of a double life and I especially hate that I have so many secrets from my dad. He was always my rock. My safe place. Mom was never stable enough to take care of me, and I really have no clue how the court gave her full custody of Bella aside from complete bias. I was old enough to make my own choices, and I chose dad.

           He looks at me with a fondness in his eyes that makes my heart ache.

           “I really wish I could stay, Dad, but I just…”

           He puts a hand up and shrugs. “I get it. Don’t want your old man cramping your style. I was young once. I was hip.”

           I laugh and walk to the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge. Dad eyes me with a frown. “What? I’m twenty three. You wanna check my ID officer?”

           “Nah… maybe… did you ever use a fake?”

           “No,” I lie. Another truth I can never tell. It was far more than just fake IDs and underage drinking, but I’ll die before I tell my dad. “So… Bella? How’s that going?”

           He told me a while back about my younger sister’s odd, troublemaker boyfriend, but I always felt he was holding something back. I often left those conversations with something tickling at the back of my mind; however, I never pursued it. Now, I regret it. Hopefully there’s time to make up for it.

           Dad grumbles, expression growing stormy. “Had to let him back in the house.”

           Judging from my intuition and the smell in the air, he never left in the first place. Out loud I say, “ouch, old man. You let your teenage daughter strong arm you like that?”

           “She threatened to go back to Renee if I didn’t.”

           “Oh.”

           I shouldn’t be surprised by that at all. Bella’s notorious for using the mom threat, after all. She’s done it since we were kids. Part of me always wished she would grow out of it, though. Clearly that will never happen. It’s sad. Our dad doesn’t deserve that. All he’s ever wanted from either of us is the tiniest bit of love.

           Hence why hiding everything from him hurts so much.

           Being self-aware really sucks sometimes.

           “Do you think you could talk to her,” Dad asks after the silence stretches on for too long and I’m picking at the PBR label to stop from picking at my nails from nerves.

           “Mmm, Dad, I don’t know if that’s a good idea. You know Bells and I have always fought like cats and dogs.”

           “Right. I was just hoping I guess.” He visibly deflates.

           Fuck.

           “Okay, I’ll try. Just don’t do,” I gesture to his current posture that’s reminiscent of a kicked dog, “that. Where is she any-”

           Before I even finish my question, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and the air shifts dangerously. My eyes dart to the doorway of the kitchen where Bella stands with one of them. He’s one of the golden eyes, weakened by consuming animal blood, but dangerous all the same. And my sister is holding his hand like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

           I didn’t hear the two of them come in. I didn’t sense him in time. This is why I can’t stay in Forks with Charlie. I’m weak around them. My love for them makes me weak. I can’t afford to be weak.

           “Hi,” I finally say after I calm the pounding in my ears and tame the instinct to attack, kill.

           Bella looks visibly flustered, like my sudden appearance is too much for her. Maybe it is. I mean, last time we talked I was lecturing her about being an irresponsible idiot. She has every right to still be annoyed by that I guess.

           Dad is the one to break the ice. “Rosie, meet Edward Cullen. Bella’s boyfriend.”

           Fuck.

           My mind races. Does he have a connection to what’s happening in Seattle? How often is he over here? How often is he alone with Bella? Does Bella know? Are there more? Oh, God, are there more? How many more? Where do they live? Are they all golden eyes like him?

           Edward nods his head almost imperceptibly, his eyes locked onto mine.

           A mind reader then. That’s fine. Nothing special. I’ve handled his kind before.

           “You’re back home?” Bella breaks my staring contest with her boyfriend. She’s not happy and it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. Her tone is sharp and her body language is tense.

           “Oh, relax,” I tell her. There’s a bite to my words as well. “I’ve got work in Seattle so I’m here visiting. I’ll be hanging out more often, though.”

           If Edward has two brain cells to rub together he can tell what I am. If Edward is smart he can hear the threat in my words.

           “Seattle? You aren’t staying there are you?” There’s a new emotion in Bella’s voice. Panic.

           I nod. “I am, but don’t worry. I’ll stay away from the serial killer.”

           “We don’t know it’s a serial killer yet,” Charlie adds in.

           “Right, but that’s what I’m here to figure out.” I take a sip of my beer. “The organization I work for heard about all the murders and they sent me to investigate. I’m hoping I can get to the bottom of it quickly and head back to Charleston before the month is up.”

           Edward quirks an eyebrow, an amused expression on his face. “That quickly?”

           I hate his voice instantly. It’s the same lilting, musical cadence all the bloodsuckers have.

           “Mhmm. I’m very good at my job,” I assure him.

           “Well in that case you have my thanks for keeping all of us safe.”

           I narrow my eyes at him. What a smug little bastard. I don’t like him. In fact, I think I would hate him even if he was just some human boy. Speaking of…

           “How’s Jacob?” I ask Charlie the question, but Edward is the one who answers.

           “Bella doesn’t see him much anymore.”

           Smug and controlling, then.

           Good job picking one of the worst, little sis.

           I’m suddenly desperate and itching to start my investigation, so I check my watch and sigh dramatically. “Wow, look at the time! I should get going so I can check into my hotel on time. Gotta start work bright and early tomorrow. I’ll be back though.”

           “Any leads,” Edward asks.

           “Yeah. I think so. See you tomorrow.”

           I give Charlie a kiss on the cheek and Bella a wave. I can feel Edward’s eyes on me all the way to the front door. It won’t be hard to find out where he lives, and if he has any sense at all, he’ll warn the others that death is coming.

           My drive to Seattle is far less eventful than my visit back home. The three hour trip gives me time to ponder and stew over Bella’s involvement with vampires. She’s not a stupid girl, I finally decide after a while. She just thinks she knows better than everyone else and will overlook danger like it’s nothing.

           Suddenly, this job feels a lot more daunting.

           The Society set me up at the Four Seasons Hotel right in downtown Seattle. It’s a corner suite with a view of the bay that makes my heart squeeze tightly in my chest. I miss Charleston already. Sure, I didn’t grow up in the coastal southern town, but it’s where The Society conducts most of their business. Their seat of power, if you will. It’s also where I did my first year of college. The parties were always ridiculously fun.

           I toss my bag on the bed and plop down on the couch by the window. It gives me a perfect view of the warehouse the Agent before me tracked the newborns to. He’s been MIA for a week now, and at this point it’s safe to assume the worst has happened. As I stare out the window I feel a strange flutter in my chest. There’s something staring back.

[stormxpadme]

Whumptober 2023 No. 16 - Gurney/Flatline/"Don't go where I can't follow"

Scogan Bingo challenge Our Song

As tempted as Logan was, cutting off Tony's damn ugly head right this instant: He was honest enough to admit, this latest fuckup was mostly his own fault. Just three months after that period had ended when he'd not known if he'd ever share a damn battlefield with his partner again at all … Shouldn’t he seriously know better than leave said careless idiot out of his sight in any fight?

Maybe it was true what they said, that for ferals, learning by pain took particularly many lessons. "Stark!" Logan had to hold back from yelling into the damn radio integrated into his mask even more unrestrained, mostly because he'd need Tony's hearing on certain radio lines sharp and intact in a second, not bleeding all into the guy's helmet. "Get your metal butt down here."

"Still wrapping things in the sky, Logan." Visibly reluctant, Tony touched down on the still sickeningly largely red-stained concrete next to him. Guy was apparently unfazed that the actually well-protected spot between a couple of car wrecks where they'd left their injured team leader earlier, was suddenly deserted. "You don't want any of these escaping towards downtown unless you're keen on even more bad press." Tony gestured toward the dozens of pitch-black unmanned drones in the air, each of them armed to the teeth. Far too many of them indeed still operable, while Logan had at least been able to take care of almost all the enemy's tanks on the ground out before they could have reached the first inner city ring.

It was yet another despicable, senseless attack by their current arch-enemies that the Orchis public relations department would no doubt be quick to blame on what was left of mutantkind either way. No helping that. Neither artillery on wheels or wings nor the news were Logan's biggest worry for the moment. His claws extending as his agitation and anger grew, he took a warning step towards Tony's bulky shape, leaving no doubt about how quickly all those shiny, brand-new red and gold layers of metal would rip open after one well-aimed slash if the guy didn’t pull his head out of his own ass immediately. "I don't give a fuck about the sky. Missing something down here by any chance?"

Tony opened the visor of his helmet to reveal an honestly confused-seeming frown, his lips under his sweat-dripping goatee tight with sudden realization. "Uh. S.H.I.E.L.D. medics got Cyclops out of here 10 minutes ago while you were two blocks from here. He was stable so I wanted him out of the line of fire. I told them to get him straight to the Tower. I thought you called them …"

"I don't call government authorities. Ended up in one of their holding cells too often for that. You better tell me you got a signal on those medics. From S.H.I.E.L.D. Who just fucked off with one of the world's most wanted." Logan focused stubbornly on the required gravity in his growl to get it through to Tony how much the guy had just fucked up, clenching his fists only harder to keep himself under control.

"Look, they had the right badges and uniforms and all. I had JARVIS check their IDs. They belong to that small still functional part of S.H.I.E.L.D. that's on our side. I'm not an idiot, Howlett. They probably saw the news and were just nearby. No need to get your panties in a knot." While Tony started to sound seriously irritated, at least he was typing away on one of his arm displays at lightning speed now, no doubt exchanging a series of orders with his in-house AI. Hopefully, he wasn’t too late about second-guessing his trust in any kind of uniform actually seeing through the lies regarding Scott's – thanks to Orchis' so very damaged – reputation and legal record.

It had been a fight against windmills from the start, trying to get such truths through to the world, with the help of just as quick as public missions like this, putting their faces all over the news in the right context, before they fucked out of there again to go back under. The catastrophe that was the aftermath of the latest Hellfire Gala wouldn’t be reversed so easily, not this time. Logan hadn’t cared a lot for this farce from the start and was only playing along for now out of an annoying obligation to Tony and Emma, as without those two, he would have lost the man he loved once more half a year ago, and without any way currently available to get him back no less. Logan was not about to go through that all over again because of someone else's stupidity. Maybe Tony should be screwing Frost more often to get a couple of distracting excess hormones from his system. "I suppose you didn’t wonder why they came and left without sirens when they're supposed to transport someone with a sliced open femoral artery through New York rush hour."

"Look, I don't think …" But that only sounded like a very weak protest at this point, those hectic attempts of establishing said contact with that supposed E.R. car on Tony's communication system looking even more agitated. The guy's tanned skin had turned significantly whiter.

"No, you don’t. Or you might have remembered we didn't exactly have good experiences with ambulances lately." Logan tapped one of his claws against Tony's chest plate to make him work faster, a cynical grin curling on his lips when the guy winced, both from the unambiguous threat and the memory of all those months of housing not only Logan but a very special kind of patient in the laboratories of his Tower. "Unless you want to start putting Scott back together again all over – after you're done renumbering your own bones, that is – you better not have lost that car, Stark, I swear to god."

"We got them," Tony assured him to visibly his own relief, letting out the breath he'd been holding. "They're halfway on their way to the Tower. Looks good to me. JARVIS, hack the security camera of that E.R. car for me. Give me a visual." Tony let out a silent curse at the feedback he was receiving from his AI via the button in his ear. "Too far for a video feed from here. I got audio though."

"They say anything?" Logan started pacing the wrecks around them with his hands firmly folded behind his back and gritted teeth, still holding back by a thread from strangling Tony. But now he was at least willing to give this albeit unlikely development of one of their former partners actually being useful again to their kind for once a shot. Thing was, they indeed weren’t done yet, keeping their enemies from raining even more destruction down on the city and thousands of civilians, just to ruin mutantkind's standing on Earth even further. Leaving lightly was out of the question.

And Logan knew very well what Scott would have had to say about him leaving the party early. Much as he hated Stark's dick right now, it had been Scott earlier, sending Logan away after stupidly running into some damn bullet, the second he'd been stable enough to risk leaving him alone for a while.

It obviously wasn’t only Stark's ability of decision-making that had greatly suffered from recent events. Maybe in truth, it wasn’t even him, Logan was being so damn pissed at right now, waves of blood-red wrath gushing over in his mind as the usually well-suppressed images from the last time that Scott had ended up in captivity filled his soul. The distant sharp taste of bile in Logan's mouth as he'd entered this one damn room in that Orchis base and at first, had seen nothing but stitches, blood, infection, and explosives in cavities where they had no place being. Flashes of months filled with doubt and fear in his head, scraps of regular screaming matches in his ears, the fragrance of more alcohol than should have been inside a recovering patient at any point in his nose … Holding his partner's hand through one goddamn procedure after another, until miraculously, somehow, Scott had not only been back to his feet but in actual fighting shape … All of that, once more, possibly for nothing if Logan didn’t pull himself together right now, to function for the man he'd long stopped shying away from admitting how much he really loved him. He'd already lost the woman who had been part of that steadily growing and intensifying relationship of theirs, and there still was no telling if and when they'd get her back. He wouldn’t fucking lose Scott all over again as well. "Stark?"

Tony held up his hand impatiently to shut him up, with narrow eyes as he kept on trying to make out any suspicious conversations, any noise that had no business being in an emergency car, over that noisy line. "They're not talking. I don't hear them working either, though." He threw another restless glance at the smoke-filled sky and the surrounding streets, grunting every now and then at a new explosion far too close to not yet evacuated buildings nearby, as the scattered shapes of his automated suits were still busy, trying to take out all of the enemy's vehicles. Logan and he would both have been needed in that stand-down, still, there was no question about that. But not while they couldn’t be sure they weren’t needed somewhere else far more urgently right now. "He's awake though, I think. Sounds like he's okay." A hint of a grin twitched on Tony's lips, his posture relaxing the slightest bit when Logan, too, closed his eyes for a treacherous moment of premature relief. "Looks like they gave him some of the good stuff. Your guy's humming."

Immediately, the hope shyly flickering in the ice-cold worry filling Logan's soul froze all over. "Humming what?"

Tony tilted his head at him in confusion over Logan's lack of enthusiasm. "Well, he's not exactly Brian Johnson but sure sounds a lot like Highway to hell to me."

"Get me the fuck in the air. And better pray we catch up with them in time."

Tony didn’t get it, still, obviously, judging by that bewildered look on his face before his visor closed again but by now the two of them had been working together long enough at least for the guy to recognize that tone of absolute, unquestionable authority in Logan's voice that always said, playtime was over. That, no matter who was actually in command at any given time, better obeyed right now if they didn’t care to catch a claw. The hated uncomfortable pressure of a sturdy metal frame pressed against Logan's back as Tony wrapped his arms around his chest from behind, not giving him a second to prepare before yanking him off the ground. Logan's stomach dropped dangerously when the guy's current favorite suit sped up to its fastest capacity within split seconds, following the direction of the coordinates that JARVIS had long fed into Tony's helmet. "Wanna tell me at least why we're gonna make headlines for abandoning the battle before it's over this time?" Slightly breathless from the rapid takeoff and the atmospheric pressure on his body, Tony's annoyed voice in the radio link was slightly subdued but still loud enough for Logan's enhanced senses to pick up on.

"That's our song," he growled out between his own labored breathing and swallowing back the remains of a too-big breakfast in his throat. God fucking damnit, how much he hated flying. "He needs me. How far?"

"Another minute. We're close enough for a visual now." The hold of Tony's sturdy metal gloves on Logan's sides tightened for a moment as a dismayed noise escaped his lips. "Goddamnit, Logan, they opened the tourniquet. He's bleeding out. And they got blades in their hands. If they see us coming …"

"Hijack the car electronics, stop the damn thing. Distract them. Then drop me right above." Logan's voice was missing the suddenly hoarse quality of Tony's shocked words, even the threatening hiss of their argument a minute ago. The sober levity that he'd not least learned from the man he loved in the course of the decades had crept back into it, that was such a stark contrast to his instincts cut loose whenever a battle demanded a white run. Whenever he had to let the animal off its chain to cut his way through a whole army of hostiles, consequences and damage be damned. When that was needed, when he was forced to leave a fight covered in guts, he had no problem giving in to those basic desires for death and revenge; it was what he was good at. It was why Scott kept on hiring him for his teams whenever Logan was available for such conflicts. Because he was the fucking best at what he did. There were these kinds of situations though when the muzzled berserker threw himself against the bars of its cage in vain, drooling venom from split, raw lips in greed. When all that energy in his cells and his soul had to be fueled instead into the cold calculation of a single, perfectly orchestrated move, of one precise shot, just like he'd been taught to aim for it by a certain team leader a long time ago. Because the collateral damage of leashing out would include something Logan was not willing to sacrifice. Never again.

He could tell by the way Stark suddenly went very silent behind him, not even one of his stupid quips on his lips, that this rare, targeted side of Logan impressed – maybe scared – the guy a lot more than the usual blood dripping from his claws, and maybe that was enough in terms of retaliation for the man's stupid error earlier for Logan's taste already. Fuck-ups happened, and if there was one thing to be said about Tony at least, it was that he was usually very thorough about correcting them. When the inconspicuous white car with the blue cross painted on its sides in question finally came into their sight, Tony had indeed managed to stop it already, and in some remote alleyway far off the battle-induced chaos downtown no less where they could approach unseen. With the thrusters of Tony's suit reduced basically to zero, it required the guy to use a lot more physical strength instead. Not exactly a cake run thanks to Logan's adamantium-steeled weight as he very well knew. But that way, they could near the car's roof silently from straight above. Farther too long torturous seconds for Logan's taste passed while his partner just a few feet away was once more in mortal danger … But it was worth it, reluctantly giving in when Tony hissed at him to wait while he inched into the position that his visual was giving him, right above one of the enemies who were none the wiser, the driver trying under filthy curses to get the car going again while those other two goons screamed at him to hurry from behind.

Those shouts quickly stopped when Logan crashed through the car's roof with all of said heavy weight, instantly killing one of the enemies with the bone-shattering impact alone. The other died from some claws in his heart and in his lungs before he could even raise the hand with that damn blade either in Logan's direction or the one of the lifeless, blood-covered figure on the gurney in front of him.

Perceiving with only half an ear focused on his surroundings that Tony had taken out the driver with a well-aimed shot from his palm cannons as well, Logan already bent over his lover with his mouth bone-dry and his heart racing, cutting the next best sheet in reach into stripes with his claws to wrap it around Scott's injured thigh again … But one single look at his partner's ashen skin color, and the deafening silence in the back of that damn car, already let him know those desperate measures might be coming too late. "Stark!"

"On it." Tony flew through that hole Logan had just made and came down next to him with a clank, grabbing a handful of instruments and scanners from his belt Logan had no idea what the fuck they even were. Pushing Logan away from Scott's unmoving body, toward the headend of that gurney, he was discussing, ordering, pleading more nervous and angry by the syllable with his AI via his radio, too low for Logan's too harsh, too irregular breathing to make out every word. "Shit, he's flatlining. My girls are already on their way. We'll have transfusions here in less than two minutes. We just gotta keep him afloat until then." Audibly gritting his teeth, Tony stuck some shiny metal stuff somewhere to Scott's chest after ripping open his uniform top, following the instructions from his electronic helper that Logan knew he could trust at least for such inevitable emergency measures. "Might wanna step away."

"Just do it. Bring him back." Kneeling on the car's ground next to Scott, as his knees had suddenly given in, it was the second time within minutes that Logan hardly recognized the sound of his own voice. His hands were clenching down on his own thighs so harshly they almost broke the brown and black latex of his uniform as that certain terrible, frightening twitch jolted through Scott's body, leaving it rearing up against those straps around his chest and hips that Logan hadn’t even bothered to open yet. In vain, he listened for something, anything, the smallest thud in his ears, a single pained gasp, no matter how weak … His hands were shaking more than he cared to admit when he closed them around Scott's too-pale face, resting his forehead against his lover's, this time trying to no avail to get rid of those horrible memories of the last time he'd cowered over Scott like this, entirely convinced he'd have to carry it out of that damn house to the nearest coffin. "Come on, Slim. Get yourself together. We had that discussion. No going where I can't follow, remember?"

"Nothing. Gonna try again. Get back, Logan … Wait." Stark let out a deep hiss, lowering his hand with the remote for that mini defibrillator again, not a second after Logan had let out a suspicious noise almost close to a sob himself.

Already, Logan's lips were softly pressed to those beautiful full ones so close, over which a faint but definitely perceptible warm breeze had just come. Almost at the same moment, they had a rhythm again, and unbelievably, miraculously, Logan could feel the faintest twitch at where he'd instinctively reached for Scott's hand.

"Ouch."

"Anyone ever tell you, you got a terrible singing voice, Summers?" Tony straightened up from his hunched position with a chuckle and briefly squeezed Logan's shoulder, a gesture of support, friendship, and apology that Logan was only too ready to accept. "I'll get those transfusions and one of the medics."

Logan just barely nodded, with Tony flying off already, not taking his eyes off Scott's blood-smeared VISOR for even a second. Reaching for some cloth nearby, he carefully wiped it clean so he could be sure his lover would be actually looking straight at him when he whispered those certain small words to him that for a moment he'd been convinced he'd never get around to tell that damn idiot ever again. Jesus, this really needed to stop. "You know I love you, bub, but don't think that's gonna save you from me whupping your damn ass for that little stunt as soon as you're patched up."

"I saw her, Logan."

That answer that didn’t want to make the slightest sense at first was so far from the usual teasing back to such a promising threat that Logan raised his head again, pulling off his mask for a moment to be able to show his partner everything he'd gone through in the last few minutes, and his puzzled frown on top. "You saw …?" Her.

Her. Just when Logan had thought he'd managed to sober up, stop that dangerous loss of control of his emotions that someone with his gift could so seldom afford, especially not in public, he felt his eyes fill with tears all over again as it dawned on him what … where Scott could only have seen anything in those last few minutes of being dead more than alive. And what it might possibly mean that even in that short window, apparently his soul had been found by someone they'd both no longer been able to sure was still anywhere around on a half-mortal plane like this to even make contact like that. It still didn’t have to mean anything, of course. In spite of all the resistance they'd been able to rouse in the last few months, they still weren’t anywhere close to turning the current catastrophe around. The loss of the missing person in that relationship of theirs might never be undone … But maybe, just maybe, they could at least allow themselves a small shimmer of hope again. "Jeannie …"

"She says thank you." The weak hold around Logan's hand tightened another little bit as Scott pulled him close for another kiss. The faint scent of salt from those tears that his VISOR was hiding mixed with the few clear drops falling on his skin from Logan's face as they let themselves fall for a brief moment more into that closeness growing every day between them. Just for another sweet second or two before the nearing roar and hum of Tony's suit revealed, proper help was on its way.

'Still up and fighting, Red.' Logan could have sworn he heard the soft, bright chuckle of a beloved voice behind his forehead when he reluctantly let go of Scott to let the professionals – real ones this time – do their job. Still up and fighting.

*******************************************************************************

@whumptober | @whumptober-archive

@scoganbingo

[magnoliamyrrh]

and at some point my therapist said, well listen, if you're going to be too fucked up to be independent, than you'll just live with your parents and that is it.. and i just fucking lost it in that moment

like, thats not on the list of things that's possible. yea, i could keep living with them, and work part time if im able or do some sort of thing to bring in some money. but thats not on the list of things that's a possibility

turns out two suicide attempts later and two deadly severe eating disorders later and therapy later and running away from home at least three times for weeks or months on end, by some miracle of god my family is no longer abusive. id still much rather kill myself than spend my life living with them though. i will never be able to truly breathe or be myself, not really, ever. what is the point of a life like that? i have spend the vast majority of my life that way, i do not want a lifetime of it more....

. ... and my parents and especially my stepfather have made it very clear that they are unwilling to do such a thing. even if i had some severe mental disorder theyd be unwilling to do such a thing. made it very clear id be a burden on them. they may have in recent years pity for the severity of my physical health issues, but i know damn well underneath that, itd be a fucking burden. even with all the household help i could possibly do, even bringing in some money, id be a burden and in the way. theyd and especially my stepfather would never stop resenting me, seeing me as nothing more than a failure, or some pathetic thing which needs too much and cant give enough in return. id be ruining their retirement too, anyway, and they deserve better than having me as a burden

.... thats not a damn option here

and my grandmother who raised me, very similar situation. absolutely suffocating, and she wont take me in long term anyway, and even if i work part time ill never stop hearing the end of how much of a failure and shame i am - not like i dont hear that now

...and my other grandparents, they likely would. they would drive me insane too, theyre controlling as all hell. and id have to deal with being around my father at least every once in awhile, which sounds far faar from pleasant.... but they need help in their old age, and they would welcome having me around at least...... but i dont know how much of an option that is, either

....and what - live with a friend, get married even? thats never going to happen. by this point i should get it well in my head, im going to be single for a lifetime. i refuse to be a burden on anyone like that, anyone deserves better than someone whose already with this many issues at only 23. and most people arent exactly in the best economic situation to have someone around who cant work themselves to the bone. and those who do have that economic situation - lets say there are women who would want a housewife;; any woman deserves better than one which is already sick by this age though, who has periods of being damn near dysfunctional, who is so fragile. it would be selfish and cruel and stupid to let anyone ever be with me

....... and so, what exactly am i left with here, in the likely case i actually cant find some sort of superhuman strengh which 98% of people with this condition cant find to get some sort of decent paying job and have independence?...... ? because spending my life being a fucking burden on others isnt what i want to do. and sure i dont have this mentality when it comes to other disabled people, but i do with me. its not something i want...... so.. what exactly? ..... see if the orthodox nuns will take me in? see if some other religious sect from somewhere will take me in? ..... kill myself and be done with all this?

better perhaps anyway, for my parents to have a dead daughter than one that burdens and disappoints them for an entire lifetime