#i mean. killing your best friend would do it but still

[y3sterdaysproblem]

smoke and mirrors - chris sturniolo

chapter one

summary: your best friend Matt backs out of plans you had made together, so you replace him with his brother. the only problem is the two of you can’t stand each other.

{enemies to lovers, fake dating}

includes : explicit language, fluff, smut(penetration, oral, fingering, etc.), angst if you squint, lots of bickering, slow burn

wc: 2.4k

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a/n: first series! it won’t be super long, but I hope you enjoy. send requests for more fics!

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“Matt, you can’t back out now!” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest as you stare at your best friend where he lays on his bed, setting his phone down to look up at you.

“I’m sorry, love, something came up and I can’t make it,” he apologizes, shrugging his shoulders. “I can’t get out of it.”

You groan, throwing your head back in frustration. You had a family wedding to attend and already RSVP’d with a plus one, which was supposed to be your best friend Matt, who had lovingly agreed to pretend to be your boyfriend for the night. Your family was super invasive about you getting a boyfriend, and you wanted to avoid all of the comments and questions by just pretending to have a boyfriend for one night at the wedding, but your plan was falling apart.

“What am I supposed to do? I already told everyone I was coming with somebody, they’re gonna know I was lying if I show up by myself,” you tell him, trying to rack your brain for any ideas.

“You could bring Nick,” Matt suggests, picking his phone back up and going back to scrolling.

You scoff. “Yeah right, like Nick could pretend to be straight for an entire night. He’d be caught in less than an hour.” You shake your head, moving to sit on the edge of the bed next to Matt. “I’m gonna have to go on, like, Bumble or something and find some random to go with me.”

Matt looks up at you over his phone, waiting for you to lock eyes with him before he starts to speak. “I mean… I know one other guy you could ask.”

You tilt your head, excited to hear the suggestion, before you realize who he’s talking about and your eyes widen, head shaking rapidly. “Absolutely not,” you put your hands up, pointer fingers crossed over in an X. “I am not asking Chris, no way.”

Matt raises his eyebrows and purses his lips. “I told you I knew someone, I didn’t say you’d like what I said.”

You roll your eyes. “He would never say yes to me anyway, even if I did want to ask him.”

Matt shrugs. “Maybe. You could always bribe him, he loves a good bribe.”

You think about it for another moment, knowing it would be easier to get Chris to do it than it would to find some random guy to go to a wedding as a first date, but the thought of spending an entire night next to Chris made your skin crawl.

The two of you had never really gotten along, even with you being around as much as you were, you guys never clicked, in fact it was the complete opposite, always insulting each other any chance you got, ignoring each other, and always avoiding being in the same room by yourself, even if only for a few moments.

“I mean… I could try but I really can’t promise I won’t kill your brother, Matt,” you half joke, but not really. “Might turn you into a twin.”

“That’s fucked,” Matt laughs, using his foot to kick you lightly. “I‘ll still be a triplet, even if you kill him. I’ll just be a triplet with severe depression and no will no live.”

“You’re so dramatic,” you tell him through a laugh. “Your life would be so much quieter, wouldn’t that be nice? You’d secretly thank me for killing him.”

Matt shakes his head at you with a smile, though his eyes tell you he thinks you’re crazy, before looking back down at his phone.

“Killing who?” A voice sounds from the doorway and you look up to see the man of the hour staring back at you, a disinterested look on his face.

“You,” you smile sweetly up at Chris.

“That’s nice,” he says, flashing you a fake, tight lipped smile before turning to his brother. “Hey, can you take me to go get food?”

Matt groans and throws his head back, closing his eyes. “But I’m so comfortable,” he whines.

You take a deep breath and consider your options. Chris, who you hate but have known for years, or a random guy who might be a serial killer? You’d definitely be safer with Chris, but the thought of having to be near him without his brothers for an entire night seemed like hell. Especially having to act like you were pleased to be in his presence.

“I’ll take you,” you speak before you can stop yourself.

Both Matt and Chris look at you with shocked expressions, Chris having a bit of disgust in his eyes.

“I’d rather starve, thanks,” Chris replies. “Matt, c’mon seriously, can you take me?” He asks again.

“Chris,” you say in a stern voice, standing up from the bed and walking towards him. “Let me take you. I need to talk to you.”

Chris watches you walk past him through the doorway and then looks back at Matt, shooting him a confused look, to which his brother just shrugs, before he leaves to follow you, finding you by the front door slipping your crocs on.

“The fuck is this about?” He asks, trotting down the stairs to meet you by the front door. “You in love with me or some shit?”

You look up at him with an unamused expression. “You wish I was in love with you.” You huff. “I told you, I gotta talk to you.”

You open the front door and head outside towards your car, opening the drivers side door. You look behind you and see Chris standing in the doorway, staring after you. “I’ll buy your food,” you tell him, and he immediately shuts the door behind him and walks up to your car. “You should’ve led with that!” He says.

You both get in your car and you start driving. “Where do you want to go?” You ask him, turning your head to see him on his phone. “Chris,” you push, reaching out to smack his phone out of his hand, causing it to land on the floor.

“What the fuck, dude. Unnecessary.” Chris huffs, reaching down to grab his phone, but he tucked it between his legs instead of going back on it. “I don’t know, McDonald’s?”

You groan. “You always get McDonald’s. Can’t we get like Popeyes or something?”

Chris looks at you, raising an eyebrow. “Well I didn’t know you were gonna eat, too, jesus. Sure, Popeyes is fine.” He goes for his phone again, but you reach out and grab his hand, stopping him.

“Wait,” you start. “I actually do need to talk to you.”

Chris sighs and puts his phone away in his pocket completely, looking over at you. “Okay, spit it out then.”

You flash a glare at him quickly before returning your eyes to the road. “So… Matt was going to be my plus one for a wedding I’m going to, but he can’t go anymore because something came up, and I can’t ask Nick because he’s gay and that just won’t work, and so that just leaves you.” You tell him nervously.

“So what if he’s gay, your family homophobic or something?” Chris asks, annoyance lacing his voice.

You sigh and pull into the Popeyes parking lot, pulling into a spot and throwing the car into park before you turn your body to face Chris. “No, they’re not homophobic. It’s just… I kind of told them I was bringing a boyfriend.”

Chris stares at you for a moment before laughing, completely unserious. “You? A boyfriend? That’s hilarious. I can’t believe you’re lying to your family about having a boyfriend.”

You don’t laugh though, you just drop your eyes down to your lap, knowing that this was exactly how the conversation would go.

“Wait a minute, that means you want me to pretend I’m your boyfriend? Fuck no, I’d rather be single for the rest of my life. Forget it, dude, you’re shit outta luck with me.” Chris shakes his head, bringing a hand up to run through his hair.

You nod and start backing out of the spot, heading towards the drive-thru. “Yeah I figured that was how you’d respond,” you murmur.

You guys order your food, and you still pay for it, staying true to your word, before heading home. It was a quick but quiet ride back, both of you getting out of the car without a word, not even a ‘thank you’ shot your way. You take your shoes off and head back up to Matt’s room, seeing him in the same position you left him in, only now he was watching a movie, and you got in his bed to join him with your food.

“How’d it go?” He asked, reaching out to steal one of your fries.

“Exactly how I expected it to go. He laughed in my face and said he’d rather be single for the rest of his life than pretend to be my boyfriend,” you tell Matt, looking down at him from where you sat.

Matt smiles up at you, reaching out to pat your leg. “Sorry, kid. You tried.”

You nod and look up at the tv screen, starting to eat your dinner.

-

The next day, you’re sitting on your couch panting your toes and watching your favorite comfort show when you hear the doorbell ring, startling you as you weren’t expecting anybody over today. You look down at your toes and swear under your breath, seeing that you smeared polish along your skin.

You set down the polish on the table and stand up, walking to your door and pulling it open, jaw dropping in shock when you come face to face with Chris, the last person you expected to show up at your door unannounced. You almost wanted to rub your eyes in case you were mistaking him for another triplet, but you knew your eyes didn’t deceive you.

“Chris?” You question. “How did you get here?”

He rolls his eyes at you. “I ubered?” He says like it’s obvious. “You gonna let me in or what?”

You take a step back and let him into your house, shutting the door behind him. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure?” You say, sitting back down on your couch. He follows and sits at the opposite end, looking over at you.

He ignores your question, watching you as you continue to do your toes, cleaning up the mess you made. “Why not just get your toes done?” He asks.

You look at him with an annoyed expression. “Costs money? Why spend money when I can sit around and do it myself?” You go back to painting your toes. “Why are you here?”

Chris shrugs. “Been thinking about what you said yesterday, about the wedding.”

You stop what you’re doing and put the polish back down, turning your attention on Chris completely. “Did you change your mind?” You ask him.

He sighs and licks his lips before speaking. “Consider it my charity for the year,” he smiles, tilting his head at you. “But I need a small favor from you.”

“A favor in return isn’t charity, Chris, it’s like… eye for an eye or whatever.” You look at him deadpan. Of course he’d want something in return, he could never do something for you out of the goodness of his heart.

“Whatever, dude, you want my help or not?” Chris asks. “If not I’ll just leave, doesn’t make a difference to me.”

You huff and give in. “Fine. What’s the favor?” You ask him.

He pulls out his phone, scooting a bit closer to you on the couch. “There’s this girl that will not stop hitting me up and she’s driving me crazy. I told her I’m not interested, I’ve ignored her messages, I even blocked her on snap to see if she’d get the hint but she still texts me every day.” He shows you all of the unanswered messages and your jaw drops.

“Holy shit, what does this girl see in you?” You laugh, reading how desperate she was for Chris.

“Funny,” Chris replies, unamused.

“What does this have to do with me?” You ask him, looking back up at his face.

“I think it’s only fair if I pretend to be your boyfriend at the wedding, you pretend to be my girlfriend on social media. Only for a few weeks or until she stops messaging me. Plus, you’re way hotter than her. ” Chris tells you, and by the tone of his voice, he’s completely serious.

You feel heat rising up your neck and you try to get it under control before your cheeks turn red. “You think I’m hot?” You ask him, a teasing lilt in your voice.

“Not the point,” he replies.

“So you tell me that you would rather be single for the rest of your life than pretend to be my boyfriend, and now you want me to pretend I’m your girlfriend?” You clarify, and he just nods, like it’s no big deal. “Pretending to be together at an event is one thing, but you want to take photos to look like a couple? That’s a little… intimate don’t you think?”

Chris shrugs his shoulders. “I’m a big boy, you’re a big girl. Don’t think you can handle a little physical touch without falling for me?” He smirks, leaning in closer to you.

You grimace and reach up to push his shoulder away. “Gross, dude. I could have sex with you and still not fall in love with you and your terrible personality.”

Chris gasps, fake shocked, throwing a hand to his chest. “I am a very good lover, why do you think this girl won’t stop texting me?”

Your eyes widen. “You had sex with her?!” You shriek. “Chris, no wonder she keeps blowing your shit up!”

Chris groans and throws his head back, leaning it on the back of the couch. “It was supposed to be a one time thing, I don’t know why she’s so hung up on me!”

You find yourself giggling a bit before you stop and clear your throat, not wanting to give Chris the satisfaction of making you laugh. You compose yourself and shake your head, clearly disappointed in the boy across from you. “Fine, I’ll pretend to be your girlfriend, but no kissing! I draw the line at kissing.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry, I don’t want to kiss you,” Chris cringes. “So… I guess we should start planning this?”

You nod and smile towards him, placing your hands in your lap as you guys start to figure out how to execute both individual plans.

-

a/n: this chapter is SUPER short but it’s kinda just to get a feel of the fic and how it’s gonna play out. I really hope you guys like this series im so nervous about it!!

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @st6niolo @mattslolita @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696

[kinichval]

haiiii ;3 can i request kinich and a reader who’s like half siren? like in h20 where when they’re dry they have legs and mualani finds her injured and keeps her in the springs and one night when he goes to see her she’s singer and he like falls in love? i’m not the best with ideas but ignore if you don’t want to lol

hi !! ty for requesting :3 i love the idea so i gave it a shot. i'm not deep into the siren mythology so i switched the lore and tried my best writing this one < 3

"you can't just take in a random stranger in your house just because they're injured, mualani."

"but they were suffering and needed urgent help!"

"then, you should've taken them to the clinic. who knows how severe their injuries are or if they have good intentions."

the conversation of your savior and a stranger stirs you awake from your slumber, eyes fluttering open as your mind gradually processes that it is time to get up. well, maybe if your legs weren't a bit impaired then standing up would've been useful.

except you're not in the best shape as you found yourself tangled in washed-ashore seaweed causing you to trample over rocks and bruising your legs; this means that you can not transform back to your siren appearance (and vice versa if your tail was injured). thank archons, your ridiculous situation ended soon when a kindhearted mualani decided to tend your injuries.

you were honest with your true self with mualani, believing in your instincts that she is as kind as she shows herself to be. like you, she was one with the waters, a soul that's tied to the flow of the oceans and destined to live freely just as the waters liberty to just be.

in the silence of mualani's shelter where you rest and heal, there's the envy creeping up in your heart that you desperately want to repress. but no, it makes itself known for you are not like mualani.

mualani is a free-spirited surfer, an adventurer of the seas; while you were a siren shunned out by society, viewed as a menace and a threat to the land's safety. kill a siren on sight before they destroy your life is what the people would say.

but you do not have the heart to decline her kindness, rather you want to see her heart as a chance to be seen by humans in a different light. because if mualani can, then why can't they?

still, you uphold the value that your mother had instilled in you; there's no point in proving your kindness when they do not believe in your existence. so you remain hidden within the confines of mualani's home, waiting for your injury to subdue until you're able to become siren again.

"kinich, this is yn. yn, this is 'malipo' kinich." mualani introduced you to a trusted friend of hers with enthusiasm high enough to reach the heavens. simply, you give the dendro user a nod and a gentle smile, he returns the gesture with a civil nod of acknowledgement. kinich's reserved attitude is intimidating, given that mualani is the only human you had ever interacted with, you're confused how human relations work and whether the land culture is different from those who reside under the waters.

you trust that mualani hasn't let a word out about your identity, yet it doesn't assure you when you feel the man's skepticism clawing at your skin as if he's ready to capture you the moment he confirms your true nature.

or maybe you're just overthinking.

kinich never intended for his lingering stare to feel like a dagger pointed at your neck, on the contrary, he harbors the curiosity to learn about you. he often finds how his mind wanders off to mualani's newfound friend whenever the usually occupied space in his head is vacant. who is she? why is he so subconsciously adamant on knowing her? only he fails to grasp a clear picture of reason as to why the voices inside his head are telling him to seek at least a fragment of her soul.

"mualani, thank you for taking care of me."

as a parting token, you granted mualani to experience your siren form. the two of you are within the privacy of the springs that only a few ever come to visit under the moonlit night sky.

your heart sinks at the thought of returning back to the deep, uncertain if you shall ever come up to the surface once your clan learns about your predicament knowing that despite you were well taken care of, they will only emphasize the what-ifs and assert the dangers of a siren caught on land.

natlan's springs are peaceful. you requested to have time in the waters for yourself the next night; promising that when morning comes, you are off to return to the ocean where you belong. but right now, you are neither your ascribed identity or whom you want be, you are just part of the waters.

cold air hits your skin, you lightly splash the water with your luminescent tail and softly smile at the quietness. sometimes, the water doesn't have to be constantly flowing, staying still is alright.

in the midst of your solitude, you hum a tune that your mother used to lull you to sleep when you were a young siren. your voice mimics the gentleness of a mother's love, a cradling feeling of tenderness and comfort. slowly, it shifts to a song, your voice becoming louder and alluring.

and just like a serenade, your song had captivated a certain saurian hunter's attention, he stands on the opposite edge of the spring right across where you were situated in. your eyes still closed and immersed in your enchanting euphony.

"i believe i'm not under a spell, but allow me to compliment your melody. may i stay here and listen?"

kinich fixes his composure, hiding the nervousness inside his pocket. but oh, the moonlight acts like a spotlight on your figure, your true nature completely open for him to realize that you are not human at all.

but kinich isn't fazed, neither does he yield the urge to capture you in exchange for the prestige that comes with catching a siren alive.

"are you not afraid?"

instead, you were the one afraid, wrapping your arms around your torso as if it's any help in shield your true form from his green and amber eyes.

"i'm fascinated. you are a beauty."

at this point, kinich does not intend to supress his longing need for you. he's conscious and sober, implying that a siren's song is not all about luring prey into the waters.

sometimes, just like yn, a siren's song is an open book to her innermost thoughts and heartbeat's poems. it doesn't need to hold words for kinich to depict the sentiments carried into the wind as she sings; to be known, to be understood.

"may i stay with you for tonight?"

this time, you wish for the moon to stay in its place, for time to pause, and for kinich to stay in the springs with you.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

Oh goodness I am so excited to finally being able to read part two!

Alright it is devastating right off the bat and I know, I know I should be worried about her and I am. I am SO worried, but my mind completely went somewhere else when Dean PICKED HER UP. The man is so strong and I am just...

“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says.  Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?” Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you.  “Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls. 

I was prepared for this coming but dang... "I hope you've learned your damn lesson" is a line that breaks my heart more than I should. It cuts to the quick for me, because to me it's worse than just saying "I told you not to do something." It's not heartless, but it's enough of a rendition of it that it just makes you go "oh wow."

And oh my word the two lines from Dean when she got mad KILLED ME. The:

"What's this, some kind of Latina temper?" he asks snidely.

AND

"Oh, I'm sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?" he snarks.

I was literally screaming. It's like he wants her to kill him. I know that Dean loves her so much but oh my goodness it's about to get so real for him. Man is about to be torn to shreds.

You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence.  He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room. So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space.  He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.

Oh sweetie pie, Dean you're an idiot, but we love our little idiot even when he loses his temper because he cares so much. This part really got to me, because at first I was like "oh why would she stay with him in his room," but I get it. Even though she's upset, Dean is still her best friend and the man she loves and even though he's the one that made her feel this way, she still wants to be comforted by his presence. I always think that, this particular thing is so bittersweet to read about in relationships.

Or at least that's how I took this bit 😅.

Side note: I am happy that the reader didn't have to tell the woman about her son. That would have broken me to read that especially after the reader promised that they would find her son in part one.

It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard.  Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself. 

Oh my word. I love you friend, but WHY!? Dang it, this pricked at my heart. It's so good, so heart wrenching. I feel so bad for him, but it really just reinforces why he "lost it" with the reader earlier. Goodness the trope of the reader getting yelled at by someone who loves them about putting themselves in danger really is just such a good one for Dean and you do it so well.

His apology is really just pricking at my heart. It's so good, so forthcoming so honest. And the thought that he was "better off alone" is so on brand for him. I know that we've talked about that before, but it really does fit him, and I love how you weave it into this fic.

You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes.  And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms.  “You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing.  “Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.” 

She's crying... I'm crying. It's really just tears all around and such a good moment. Also the him saying "You don't have to cry for that"... YES SHE DOES.

This is just overall a really wonderful vulnerable moment that you've captured that feels real for both the reader and Dean. Especially when she talks about "working with my heart, not my head." I think that if it were me, I would also be "working with my heart." I don't think that I'd be able to take myself emotionally out of the situation that they're in all the time because they're hunters.

The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday. 

Hoping for some FORESHADOWING 🙏🏻👀

Also the salsa lesson is just so cute. And the way you took a really emotional moment to a cute salsa dance to a steamy session to a giggly awkward moment is great. The transitions make it seamless.

And the song choices were perfect! When the reader was describing what the song meant I was like, "oh yeah, that's him right there. There's the man officer." lmao 🤣

Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss. He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds.   A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck.  “I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.

I was again so emotional reading this, because oh my word, poor Dean just reliving the moments where the reader almost died.

And also the final scene 👀🌶️ I should have known from the gif at the beginning tbh lol.

ESPECIALLY THIS LINE:

“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”

I don't know why that wiped me out after everything tbh.

Not to mention that the sex was also giggly towards the end and I really just love that. And the love confessions KNOCKED ME OUT.

I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand. 

Oh I'm riding a train of emotions, and all of this was so good. Especially Sam walking in on them. I was laughing so hard at Dean's reaction:

“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”

It's all wonderful my friend! And I can't wait to read another fic from this universe! 😊

Devour Me - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader 

Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. (18+)

AN: Here's Part 2! **Read Devour Me: Part 1

Song Inspo: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique. But really it’s “Ven Devórame Otra Ves” by Lalo Rodriguez. (You’ll see why.) 🤭

Word Count: 5,400

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Blood, character death and violence, smutty smut, angst, Dominican slang, and tons of sexy fluff.

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 2: "Telenovela Style"

Your resulting scream of agony is as unforgiving as the ground when your knees buckle, hitting the hard cement.

Andy grips you with the strength of a monster. 

Then he holds you down as he drinks your blood. 

No matter how you struggle and whimper, you can’t push him off, and you’re getting weaker by the second.

Until Andy is ripped away from your neck, and is taken care of the way all vampires must be. He doesn’t even feel the blade coming. 

When you’re able to look up, Dean stands above you with thinly veiled fury. He doesn’t have time to consider what he’s just done. 

He bends to gather you up into his arms, all the while trying to stamp down the panic clenching his heart. He calls your name, but you can only make weak sounds as your bleary eyes meet his. 

“Dean,” you manage. The ragged wound in your neck is bleeding profusely down your chest and shoulder, seeping into your shirt. He takes your hand and clamps it hard against your neck, even though it makes you whimper.

“Gotta stop the bleeding,” he says, apologetic but firm. “Keep pressing.”

In your stupor of pain, you don’t realize that your screech woke the entire nest. Dean has to lock up his worry; he looks up and finds his brother and Cas already fighting a hoard of angry vampires. 

Dean carries you over to them and lays you down against the wall with the other humans. He keeps a protective line in front of you, but he decapitates a vampire before she can sink her fangs into Sam next.

The two of them work together, and with Castiel’s smiting power behind them, the angel and the two men are able to clear the rest of the nest. 

By the end, only you and two of the women being held captive are still alive. The third girl’s heart just finally gave out. Sam takes the survivors to the nearest hospital. 

Meanwhile, Castiel approaches where you sit up against the inside of the barn, barely awake, while Dean kneels with you, holding you to his chest. He meet’s Cas’s blue-eyed request with a nod. So Cas stretches out a hand and touches two fingers to your forehead. 

You’re healed in an instant. Dean marvels, like he always does when Cas displays his power. Dean is able to breathe a little easier, the vice grip on his heart easing as he touches your neck.

The tan skin is once again smooth, if still stained with blood. You blink back into wakeful consciousness. 

He shifts so he can see your face. “You okay?” 

You meet his eyes but can only nod. His jaw is still tight and tense, and you can’t blame him. 

You know you’ve messed up. Big time. You nearly got everyone killed, including yourself…and now, you have to tell a mother that her son is dead. 

Dean helps you up, holding you by your arms and waist until you’re steady on your feet. You have a hard time meeting his eyes, but when open your mouth to apologize, he beats you to it. 

“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says. 

Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?”

Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you. 

“Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls. 

You tilt your head at him as your irritation begins to spark. Meanwhile, Castiel is the one who backs up as he glances between you and Dean uncertainly.

“I made a mistake, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do,” you shoot back. “I was a hunter long before I met you.” 

“Yeah, well, color me surprised that you’ve made it this long,” he snaps. 

Your temper flares hotter. “You know, you’re not so goddamn perfect either.” 

“Never said I was,” Dean says. “But when my gut tells me something ain’t right, I need you to fucking listen. Otherwise, we get a day like today.”

His words are edged with grit by the end of his little rant, and you don’t appreciate it. Your lips purse in anger.

“I don’t care what that legendary gut tells you,” you sass back. “I’m not a little girl, and you’re not my damn father!”

Dean raises incredulous brows at the way you’re shouting at him. He crosses his arms. 

“What’s this, some kind of Latina temper?” he asks snidely. 

You truly become incensed at that. 

“Oh, you want to take it there?” you ask, as your eyes narrow. “Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Dean won’t admit it, but in that moment, he’s a bit intimidated by the quiet threat in your voice. Still, his fuse is lit, and he’s way beyond curbing his internal filter.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?” he snarks. 

You let out an incredulous breath. Your eyes begin to sting.

“You’re such an asshole!” you shout back. There, understand that?

You turn away from him before your frustrated tears can fall, but you stop short once you notice Castiel dragging out the bodies of the dead…including Andy. Your throat constricts, and you begin to stalk out of the barn. 

Dean calls your name in frustration. 

“What?” you hiss. 

The only thing that makes him hesitate is seeing the state of you when you turn back around. His anger crumbles, and maybe something in him breaks when he sees your tears. They’ve welled up in your eyes, and a few of them carve a path down your cheeks. 

You’re still covered in your own blood, and he hates it. He hates it more than anything. 

Later, you see the state of yourself when Sam returns with the Impala. In the reflection on the backseat window, you see the blood dried down your neck, staining nearly half of your shirt.

You see the black rings of your mascara and eyeliner around your eyes. You look a mess, and you try to wipe underneath your eyes. It’s a fruitless effort.

After you all finish burning the bodies, Dean starts the long drive home. You insist on stopping to tell Rachel Campbell about her son, but Sam says he already took care of it when he drove into town. 

You frown, but you no longer have the energy to be angry. You further withdraw into yourself, and your lower lip trembles as you look out the window. Through the rearview mirror, Dean sees more tears slipping down your face.

What Sam told him (but he won’t tell you), is what one of the survivors said. One of the mated pairs had taken Andy…to “adopt” a son of their own. 

That night is quiet and tense in Dean’s room. You have to wash your hair all over again, and scrub the blood and grime from your body until only your skin remains. But you don’t have the energy to do more than braid your wet hair afterwards and pull on your lucky Journey shirt, which is still full of holes. 

Dean knows that it’s bad when you need the “dreamcatcher,” as he’s called it in his head. You’ve never had a nightmare while wearing that shirt, or so you claimed a while back. 

You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence. 

He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room.

So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space. 

He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.

In the morning, Dean’s woken by the familiar smell of coffee…and the less familiar sound of loud salsa music. 

What the fuck?

After he brushes his teeth, he puts on his robe and slippers and heads down to the kitchen, where he finds you in a seemingly better mood. You’re mopping the floor, of all things. You’re out of your pajamas, instead wearing a loose shirt that falls off your shoulder and some spandex shorts. 

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo,” you sing softly along with the music as you dance from the kitchen to the living room. Your phone is connected to a Bluetooth speaker on the coffee table. 

Dean starts to smile, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway to watch you.

At an instrumental break with a run of conga drums and trumpets, you pause in your mopping to do a little twirl as you dance, with a soulful roll of hips and a flair of salsa steps. It makes Dean’s smile kick up into a smirk.

He walks in on purposefully light feet until he’s sidled up behind you in the living room.

“Nice moves, Shakira,” he quips. 

It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard. 

Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself. 

“You trying to give me a heart attack?” you ask with a hand on your heart. 

Dean forces himself to smile a little. “Sorry. But might I remind you, not everyone here’s an early bird.”

You give him a wry look.

“You’re the only one around here who sleeps past 10 a.m. Cas dipped out a while ago, and Sam’s on a run.” 

But you graciously grab your phone to lower the music to a more bearable level. Dean doesn’t yet know this about you, but this—listening to music, dancing, cleaning—it’s all your way of coping…and releasing as much of your pain, terror, and regret from yesterday as possible. 

You then look up at him more guarded. The two of you exchanged a lot of unsavory words last night. In fact, it may just be the worst fight you two have ever had in almost three years of knowing one another.  

Dean senses the shift in you, and his amusement fades. He just can't let things stay like this. He won't.

He hazards drawing closer and touching your arm.

“Look…I’m sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I know I was being a dick,” he says. “You’ve just gotta understand something.”

You wait for him to continue with furrowed brows, sensing that whatever he’s about to say is hard for him. 

“There’s a reason I don’t do this. The uh, relationship thing,” Dean continues, clearing his throat. His thumb swipes along your arm. “It’s not just this job. It’s my fucked up life. I tried to warn you before—” 

“Dean,” you say with a sigh, but he raises his hand. 

“Please, just…let me say it,” he says. “You know the spiel. But things can change on a dime. Even on a damn milk run, like a dusty nest of vamps.”

You know that. You know you could’ve died yesterday, and he doesn’t need to remind you of that fact. Before you can start to get petulant again though, Dean continues. His jaw is working, like this next part is more difficult for him to admit.

“Trust me when I say, us being together is dangerous, for both of us,” he says. “For a while I, uh…I started to think Sam and I were better off alone.”

That casts you into dismay. Because you know Dean isn’t lying. He’s really contemplated spending the rest of his life devoid of love, so he won’t have to lose it. 

Dangerous, for both of us.

You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes. 

And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms. 

“You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing. 

“Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.” 

Your fist clenches in his shirt when you remember Andy, latched onto your neck, and how Dean had to save you. You know he’s remembering it too when his brows furrow, and his gaze falls away. You reach a hand for his cheek.

“I know I fucked up,” you admit. “I was working with my heart, not my head. I just…”

You wanted so badly to help that kid and his mother. You also know that Dean understands; you see it in his eyes. He holds your hand to his cheek and brushes his thumb across the back of your hand.

“I know,” he says. “I really am sorry, baby.” 

The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday. 

It’s just…days like yesterday remind you why that could be a very bad idea. 

More of your tears bubble over, and you head willingly into Dean’s arms. “Me too…”

He holds you tighter than ever. His hands rub down your back, tangle in your hair, and he drops his lips onto your hair. You sniffle, wiping your face dry in his shirt. And for a while, the two of you have peace in the relative quiet. 

Music still plays from the speaker though. And when another salsa song starts to play on your playlist, you start swaying. A smile works its way onto Dean’s face. 

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” he teases.

You smile into his chest. “We should go dancing sometime.”

Dean just laughs. “Oooh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” you reply, batting your lashes up at him. You slip a hand on his shoulder and into one of his hands. He’s forced to hold you as if the two of you were about to start Fred Astair-ing across the living room. 

“Have you ever danced before?” you ask. “Like real dancing.” 

“Not salsa, I’ll tell you that,” he quips. 

“That’s okay. I’ll teach you,” you reply with a coquettish smile. “It’s just a few simple moves.”

Dean gives you a wan look. “You made it look anything but simple.”

You blush at that, but you meet him with a pout of disappointment. You don’t let up, even when Dean frowns. He huffs at you in resistance.

“No,” he insists. You just brush a gentle thumb along his neck, biting your lip in askance.  

But the longer he stares at your beautiful, hopeful eyes, the more cracks form in his resolve. 

Eventually, Dean breaks with a sigh, and a shake of his head. 

“You’re too much, you know that?” he mutters.

It’s then that you know you’ve won.

So with a happy squeal of excitement, you clap your hands and move to stand next to him so you can show him the basic steps of salsa dancing. 

You make him take off his robe and slippers, leaving in his shirt and plaid pajama pants. Then you instruct him for a few minutes, correcting his footing and getting him to move on a beat. You’re pleasantly surprised that he has some rhythm.  

Dean sighs once again. How the hell did we get here? Heat crawls up the back of his neck as embarrassment starts to set in. 

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he grumbles.

“You’re doing good,” you encourage, with a growing smile. “Now come on, feel the beat in threes. One, two, three. One, two, three…”

Once he sort of has the basic steps and turns down, you move to stand in front of him. There you show him how to hold you, how he’ll move forward, and you’ll move back. It takes a little while, but you slowly move through the combinations, then do a little twirl underneath his hand. 

When he pulls you back in without faltering, you give him a beaming smile. “Very good!”

A subtle grin raises his lips at your enthusiasm. He also feels his face heating up at the praise.

But you pause when a certain song filters through the speakers. It’s an old one (and it never fails to make you blush), but you love it.  

“Ooh, yes,” you exclaim with delight, and you turn up the volume.

“What’s this one?” Dean asks.

“Ven Devórame Otra Ves,” you inform him. Not that he knows what that means. You sing along a bit with the first couple of verses while you encourage Dean to lead you in the dance. 

This song is just slow enough for him to attempt it, and the funny thing is, he doesn’t feel all that uncomfortable with the steps now. He’s starting to get a feel for how to move, both with his feet, and with his hands as he guides you by your waist, holding your hand close to his chest. Still, Dean’s also curious about the lyrics you’re singing. 

“What does it mean?” he asks.

You huff in amusement. “You sure you want to know?”

Dean raises a brow. “Well, now I gotta know.” 

You giggle at that, though you correct his steps when he leads with the wrong foot. 

“Okay. It’s about a guy who’s pretty much a player,” you say with a smirk. “His bed has been a revolving door of hot ass, but he keeps thinking about this one woman who used to have him turned inside out…”

Dean’s lips curve at the familiar image you’re conjuring. He manages to turn you under his hand, then pull you back to him in one smooth motion. He looks down at you with a deeper gleam in his eyes. You bite your lip, soothing your hand from his shoulder and down his arm.

As the song’s verses come, you translate for him. And for Dean, your voice in itself is a spell.

“Even in my dreams, he says, I thought I had you devouring me. And I dampened my white sheets remembering you,” you begin. Your words are smooth like black velvet. “In my bed, no one is like you, who draws my body on every corner, without a piece of skin left over.”

Dean is getting hot under the collar as you push away, dragging your fingertips along his back as you turn around him. When you come back into his line of vision, his attention is attracted to the sway of your hips, clad just in those little spandex shorts. He has to clear his throat a bit. 

You eventually return to him with a warm hand against his chest. 

“Ven, devórame otra ves. It means, come devour me again,” you continue, looking up at him from under your lashes, “Come punish me more with your desire. Because I kept my love for you…because my mouth has the taste of your body.” 

You smile at the laser focus of his green-eyed gaze. “Come devour me again.”

You push off with another little spin. When you reach for his hand, Dean yanks you back into him, eliciting a gasp. The move disorients you for a moment, but you giggle and hold onto his arms. Your hands glide up to rest on his shoulders. 

He’s holding you flush against him, and as you shift a thigh between his legs, you unintentionally graze against his hardening length. You look up at him with a smirk.

“You’re a little…stiff,” you say, both flirtatious and teasing. “Let’s loosen you up.”

You shake his shoulders out and try to get him to relax. Dean raises a wry brow, because you know damn well whose fault it is that his body is coiled tight. But you place his hands on your hips as you move back into the dance. 

“Feel what I’m doing there?” you ask. He looks down on you with growing heat.

“If I could do that, we wouldn’t be together,” he rumbles. 

You try to stifle a laugh as he pulls you in close again, just swaying for a bit. Soon enough, you grin knowingly when his hands start to slide lower on your ass. His head bows to yours, ready to meet you with a kiss. 

You stop him with your finger on his lips.

“Question: do you consider yourself more of a tits or ass man?” you ask him. You’re half teasing, but still curious. Dean snorts at the question. 

“More of a connoisseur,” he replies, smirking. 

“Ah.” You nod sagely, and you point between him and yourself. “So this is like a ‘sample the menu’ situation.”

Dean’s smirk deepens. “Sweetheart, you’re a goddamn buffet.”

You splutter laughing…and that’s when he finally pounces. He claims your lips with greedy passion. His hand winds into your hair, gripping tight and ruining what’s left of your loose ponytail. The strands coil around his hand in messy curls while he also gets a healthy grip of your ass through your thin shorts. 

You smile into his lips, even as you acquiesce to him guiding your head to the side, so he can slip his tongue against yours. You grip his arms more for stability while he manhandles you, kneading soft flesh and making pleasant tingles run up your spine. 

After a little while, his mouth burns a hot path away from yours. He noses down your neck, skimming his lips across your skin. It sets your nerve endings on fire and gets you breathing more shallowly in his ear. You cling to the back of his shirt, holding him close. 

Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss.

He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds.  

A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck. 

“I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.

So you slide your hands down, slow between the dips and planes of muscle in his back, and rest at his hips. Your thumbs delve under the hem of his shirt and tease the skin there. 

And you start slow, pressing wet, nipping kisses of your own to his neck while you inch his shirt up. You feel his smile on your neck. His grip on your hip flares to life. Still, he lets you tug his shirt up and over his head. Your loose shirt comes next, revealing the same black satin and lace bra you wore the first time he ever got you topless in his arms. 

A fan favorite. Dean grins. He reaches around to go for the clasp, but your firm push on his chest takes him by surprise.

He falls back onto the couch with a grunt, looking up at you then with raised brows. You’ve got a mischievous little smirk on your face that heats his blood and makes his cock twitch.

You take out the rest of your falling ponytail, shaking your hair out wild. Then you let your hands drift down your neck, over your clothed breasts, and finally to your little shorts.

Dean rubs his palms down his thighs and watches. A smirk forms across his lips as you slide the fabric down the curve of your hips. It leaves you in a red thong, familiar to him by the little tear it has on the front. (Again, his fault.)

You climb aboard his strong thighs to straddle his lap, using his shoulders as leverage as you sink down. You make sure to rub yourself teasingly against his clothed erection. He groans in appreciation. His hands fly to your soft, thick thighs and squeeze. 

“Aw, I like this,” Dean says, half on another moan as you grind down a bit harder on him. 

“Yeah?” you tease. You take his face in your hands and capture his lips with your own. Your tongue invades his mouth, and he welcomes you with a deep hum. It’s slow and hot at first, but Dean feels the loss of you when you break from his lips.

Instead, you treat him with the same trail of kisses he gave you, along the curve of his jaw and down his neck. But you don’t stop there.

Your hands move over his chest with purpose, tweaking over each hard nipple while your mouth burns a wet line down and down his sternum. Dean groans at your ministrations, but lets you leave his lap to slide down to the ground, between his thighs. 

“What’re you up to, baby?” he asks, despite having a very good idea of it. He catches the playful, yet determined gleam in your eye. 

You pause, briefly leaning back up to give him a heated kiss. You part from him with a grin. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” you ask. “I’m gonna devour you.”

Dean stares hard at you as goosebumps break out across his forearms. 

Oh, fuck yeah. 

A giggle bubbles in your throat at the expression on his face. But you continue, taking his pants down his legs first, before his boxer briefs. 

Dean’s body tenses in anticipation. You’ve gone down on him before, but somehow it’s different this time. He feels like every single one of his nerve endings stands at attention along with his dick. And you’re taking your sweet time working him up. 

Even when his cock is finally free, you sooth your hands down his legs first, maybe teasing him a bit as you drag your nails down his inner thighs. Dean makes a strained sound, though he tries to hide it by clearing his throat.

Your gaze flicks up to his with a little smile. He’s holding the back of the couch; his fingers are digging into the old cushion in effort to keep still for you. But his eyes stare into yours like a man starving. You know what you’re in for after you have your way with him, but for now, he’s quite literally under your control. 

So you take him in your hands first. Dean groans as you tease him with light touches, soft movements, your thumb slowly circling over the sensitive, weeping head of his cock. It's torturous enough to make him drop his head back against the couch, closing his eyes tight.

And suddenly, he blinks them open again.

“Shit,” he utters, when you finally take him into your mouth. Your tongue is soft and wet, your lips move over him steadily, and your hands caress whatever your mouth can’t take, even teasing his balls. 

You work him over relentlessly, until he can’t help but spill everything he has to give into your waiting mouth. When you suck off and swallow whatever remains, Dean’s heart stutters like syncopated conga drums. 

He shudders and struggles for breath afterwards, watching your every movement—from wiping your mouth to shooting him that satisfied little smirk. 

You press one last kiss to the inside of his thigh before you raise from where you’ve been kneeling on the hard ground. 

Dean manages to lean forward and helps you up by your elbows. But then he pulls you back into his lap and kisses you deeply. He doesn’t let up until you’re panting with him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he manages to say. His voice is deep and laced with grit. 

He’s still panting heavily. You giggle and press your warming face into his neck. 

“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”

He brings your face back to him with a hand on your cheek. For a second, he just looks at you. His thumb strokes across your full, thoroughly kissed bottom lip.  

“Say it,” you encourage softly. “Whatever you’re thinking. Right now.”

A smile tugs at his lips. He can’t help but oblige you. 

“You’re too damn much,” he says again, both gruff and fond. Despite how you drive him up the fucking wall sometimes, he doesn't think it'll ever be enough for him, what he has with you.

Because this is something he'd almost given up on. Didn't think he'd get to have it. And it almost scares him, how much he wants you. How much he...

“I love you,” he says. His thumb traces along the familiar curve of your cheek.

It hasn’t been all that long, but he knows. You weaseled your way in without even trying. The least he can do for you is be honest.

Your fingers curl around his wrist, holding his hand in place. You tilt your head at him.

“Oh, yeah?” you ask. 

Dean hesitates, but he nods. “Yeah.”

A smile grows across your face. “Eh, I’m still on the fence.”

At his flat look, you laugh and lean in for a kiss. He allows it, a little petulantly. But you make up for it with sweet affection. Your gentle hands stroke down the column of his neck, down his chest. You then lean back so he can see your face.

“Yo te amo,” you whisper. “Te amo y te quiero, más que tú puedes creer y entender.”

Dean smiles. He doesn’t understand all of it, but he gets the important bits. He hears it in the tone of your voice. He sees it in your eyes. They shine with emotion, but mainly with love. 

Dean kisses your hand. He lets go, just so he can slip his hands around you to finally unhook your bra. He tosses it across the room without bothering to see where it lands.

You do though, and you meet him with a slightly narrowed gaze. 

“Are you making a mess of my clean bunker?” you tease. 

His lips curve as he kisses you again, while his hands each get a generous handful of your breasts. 

“Ah, hello, ladies." He grins. "Miss me?”

You can’t help but laugh. He’s such a dork sometimes.

But you hum when his thumbs brush over hardened nipples, then drag deliberate circles over them, and pinch just hard enough to make you whimper in pleasure. The sensation zips through you, enhancing the flood between your legs. 

“I fucking love that sound,” Dean mutters, and licks a hot path in the valley between your breasts. His lips move against your dewy skin when he says, “Do that for me again.”

When he takes a nipple in his mouth and nips a bit hard, you have to oblige him. Your voice rising high is music to his ears.  

So he goes for your panties next. You help him get them off and return to his lap. With a breathy moan, you revel at the feeling of his fingers probing into your wet heat.  

However, you and Dean have been too engrossed in one another to notice the door of the bunker unlocking, and heavy steps down the spiral staircase. 

It’s Sam who’s back from his run. Unfortunately, he soon has to shield his eyes upon reaching the living room. 

“Damn it, Dean!”

You yelp in surprise, but Dean laughs and holds you close to shield you from view. As a bonus, it presses your breasts against his chest. 

“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”

Sam scoffs. “You’re having a moment on the goddamn couch!”

“Sorry,” you say, though it’s muffled in Dean’s neck. Your face is red hot with embarrassment. 

Sam rolls his eyes heavenward and tries not to see anything else on his way to his room. 

But Dean’s chuckle reverberates through your chest as his hand goes to your cheek. He encourages you to pull back, so he can see your face again. 

When he does, he smirks at the scarlet blush dusting your cheeks and neck. You bite your lower lip, but despite your embarrassment, you’re happy.

Your own words replay in your mind when you lean in for another kiss.

I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand. 

AN: Yay! I hope you enjoyed Part 2 of the “Midnight Espresso”-verse! I loved writing this one so much. I know we're just doing fanfic here, but I genuinely put my heart and soul into this one. ❤️

Also, here are a couple of Spanish translations:

(Note: other Spanish-speaking countries may interpret certain words differently.)

[During their fight]: 

“Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Translation:

“You’re shameless. Keep messing with me, damn it. Then you’re going to see who I am (<- This is Dominican slang. It essentially means fuck around and find out what I'm made of.).”

[Song lyrics: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique]: 

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo.”

Translation:

“I don’t know tomorrow. I don’t know tomorrow. If we’ll be together, if the world will end.”

Keep Reading:

Next in this series is "Chico Malo" ("Bad Boy"):

Summary: You catch Dean red-handed—with one of his favorite episodes of Casa Erotica.

▶️ Next Story: Bad Boy (Chico Malo)

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[miifu666]

Hi I’m a big fan of your blog , love how you draw the characters!!

How do you think monkey king and suklha would court each other.

Helloww ♡♡♡

Funny you ask that!!! 😭 i just finished a doodle about that too!

Since Wukong's a hot tempered and unpredictable monkey king with a high self esteem. I like to add a bit of Monkey facts in his behaviour. Ofc besides the fighting the gods to keep his lover i dont think thats normal monke

From what i know, male monkeys usually start the flirting to enter a sort of consortship with the female. So i believe, Wukong despite the virgin that he is. Would be the first one to show interest.

Monkeys usually spend time with their future mate during courtship, so i figured instead of eating and talking to eachother to spend time. Wukong would challenge Suklha during the first few stages of courtship, if Suklha manages to outwit him he would let out these noises thats a mix of excited chirps and amused chuckles. Seeing Suklha managed to beat him in his own challenge is akin to her saying

"oh you're good, but ill try and beat you to show you im capable of being beside you"

even better when Suklha lets him groom her properly, it would take hours upon hours for him to show her that he's a good mate to keep her pretty and light colored hair clean. Suklha sitting down and waiting for him to finish, only to groom him back with her own pinchers is a sign that she accepted Wukong's feelings. (In his head anyway)

This works with Suklha, too. Centipedes spend time with their mates to start the mating ritual. Female centipedes usually release certain pheromones to attract the male interest. Wukong might notice how she has a more enzymatic scent, floral and berry-like, reminding him of the tree peaches in flower fruit mountain. This works with monkeys, although i think they release a certain odour when they want to mate rather than... courtship-

This in turn, makes Wukong more physically affectionate towards Suklha. His hands never leaving her waist whenever they talk to someone, glaring at anyone who dares to come pick her up like some sort of harlot. Wukong would compliment her to make her pay attention to him more whenever they're in public, of course this is Wukong. Hes not that good with compliments-

Suklha : you dimwit! Ive told you before how to do it!

Wukong : It seemed like i was right at first! Why are you getting so mad over! Just because you're decent-looking doesn't mean you can reprimand me however you like!

Suklha : ...?

Wukong , counting his fingers : Smart, quick-witted, courteous! Just because you're all that doesn't mean you can shout at me all you want!!

Suklha : i..

Wukong : AND STOP LOOKING SO GOOD

Suklha : IM BREATHING???

Wukong : WELL YOU LOOK GOOD DOING IT

Lastly, it would be a hard way to recognize but Wukong would speak towards her with a deeper tone of voice than usual. He'd even try to talk to her more calmly than yelling high-pitched like usual.

He'll smile more and probably do anything, yes even kill some demons and yaoguai to get an object of her desire or something that reminds him of her. Like a red jacket he saw in a village near the mountains, he'll snatch it and put it on Suklha without any word. Not even a "here's a new jacket" nope. They're already this deep in the courtship stage, she should understand what he means when he gives her things. He might glare at Suklha whenever he sees her missing the object he's given her, no words, just bites and glares.

All in all, it would be a bit chaotic. Like seeing your two best friends slowly getting together. Especially Suklha who despite showing interest in the courtship, suddenly denied Wukong of her answer after his proposal. Of course, this isn't done out of spite. She knows the consequences of accepting his proposal and she wont let a creature of this world suffer due to her. Suklha is a trickster, but she still has a heart.

[gingiesworld]

Ghost (2/?)

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 4.8k+

MINORS DNI 18+

Taglist : @mothertoall2 @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad @reginassweetheart @machyishere @gemz5 @pawiie @duckiekong @alexawynters (If you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)

It was a struggle for Y/N to settle in to living at the compound, although it was a comfort to them for Wanda also being there, when she’s not on missions, it was hard for them to be completely comfortable, knowing that the others didn’t really trust them.

“Welcome back girls.” Steve smiled once both Wanda and Nat returned from their recon mission, Wanda could sense that Y/N wasn’t at the compound.

“Where’s Y/N?” She questioned before greeting the team.

“They went on their own mission.” Tony informed her.

“In other words, killing in cold blood.” Steve scoffed, earning a glare from Wanda.

“It’s not cold blood if it stops Hydra from ever forming again.” Bucky retorted, turning Steve’s attention to him.

“You don’t know that these people have links to Hydra, for all we know it could just be their own hitlist.” Steve countered, watching as Bucky shook his head.

“You don’t understand Steve.” He spoke calmly. “You were never a part of Hydra, you were never their puppet, manipulated into doing their work. You were always the good one, on the good side.”

“That doesn’t mean that what they’re doing is right.” Steve raised his voice slightly.

“So, would you rather there be a chance that Hydra rebuilds, without any one being able to stop it?” Bucky questioned. “Innocent people going missing for them to be experimented on and tortured?”

“We would be able to stop it the right way.” Steve tried, making Wanda chuckle dryly.

“No, we wouldn’t.” She spoke up. “What Y/N is doing is the right way, they are making sure that no innocent people will ever be hurt again, no families would experience the loss that we have all endured, that Y/N has endured.”

“This is unbelievable.” Steve muttered as he turned to walk away.

“They’re right, Frosty.” Tony added, making Nat chuckle at the nickname. “Y/N’s way is more of a preventative measure.”

“Do you agree with this?” He asked Natasha, who looked him straight in the eyes.

“If I thought there was a chance that someone would rebuild the Red Room, I would do what Y/N is doing right now.” Natasha told him honestly, her arms crossed. “So yes, I do agree with them.”

“But these people have families of their own.” He tried as Nat shrugged.

“It stops them from brainwashing their children, or grandchildren into thinking Hydra would be the solution to every government or world issue.” She told him firmly. “Governments, politicians and agencies all have their own agendas to benefit themselves, I remember you once said that when you went against the Sokovian Accords to protect your best friend.”

“Bucky was innocent, we all know this.” Steve tried weakly, knowing he was losing his argument.

“I still have a lot of blood on my hands, innocent blood.” He reminded him. “It doesn’t matter if I was under their mind control and had no idea what I was doing, but it was still my hands that followed through on their orders, the assassinations.” With that Steve just walked out, leaving them all behind in a huff.

“When will he get that self righteous icicle from up his ass?” Y/N spoke from behind them, making everyone turn around, the smile on their face growing as their eyes met Wanda’s.

“You’re back?” Wanda questioned as Y/N nodded. “I thought you would be gone longer?”

“I am, as they say, efficient at my job.” They smirked, making her shake her head.

“I’m happy you’re back.” She told them, patting their arm awkwardly before she stepped away. “I am going to get cleaned up.” She said as she started her way towards her room, Nat followed her into her bedroom, closing the door behind them.

“What was that?” Nat questioned as Wanda shrugged, feigning ignorance. “You know exactly what I mean, Wanda, with the awkward pat.”

“What do you want me to say?” Wanda questioned as she sat on the edge of her bed. “That I have some unresolved feelings, especially since they came back into my life after spending a couple of years thinking they had died in my arms.” She sighed as she began to play with the sleeves of her sweater. “Truthfully, I don’t have any unresolved feelings towards them, because I know how I felt about them. I remember the feeling as though it was yesterday and I still have those feelings, maybe even stronger now.”

“But what about Vision?” Nat questioned as Wanda shook her head.

“I don’t know, I know I felt something for him, but with Y/N it’s different.” Wanda admitted. “I can’t quite explain it because I never thought I would ever feel as safe as I did when I was in Hydra.” She chuckled lightly before continuing. “I know how weird that sounds, given Hydra’s history and all, but they made me feel safe, I knew that while I was there, I wouldn’t ever come into harm's way, neither did my brother. Y/N cared for the both of us, unlike any of the other guards who worked there.”

“What about when they weren’t there? They must have needed to take a day or two.” Nat questioned as Wanda shook her head.

“They were there every day, without fail.” Wanda told her. “Or they had the only other guard they knew that they could trust, watch over us while they accompanied Strucker. Y/N saved both myself and Pietro, on multiple occasions, knowing just how it would end for them if they ever got caught.”

“You were in love with them.” Nat stated, earning a shush from Wanda.

“I was.” She whispered before she looked at her hands. “And I still am.” She admitted. “But I don’t know what to do, I’m not even sure I am ready for it myself, especially with Vision in the picture.”

“You do know, you will have to choose.” Nat told her. “You know both of them would want you to be happy, no matter what or who you decide.”

“I know.” Wanda took a deep breath. “But I am not ready to lose anyone else, not yet, not ever.”

“I’m sorry about Steve.” Bucky spoke as he entered the training room, seeing Y/N at the weights. “He thinks that there is always a choice, especially when people's lives are in our hands.”

“But how many people has he killed during war? How many enemies has he killed during missions?” Y/N questioned, putting the weights down. “He thinks he is doing good, following orders like the good soldier, for the same government in which Hydra had hidden inside of over the decades.”

“Trust me, I understand where you are coming from.” Bucky started before being cut off by them.

“You don’t understand.” They told him. “Once he knew that you were still alive, he never gave up on you, he fought to get you back to being you. He is your friend, your brother in arms, I never had anyone who would fight for me like that. I had my family taken away from me, I watched them die before my own eyes and I was just a stupid kid who couldn’t save them.” They took a shaky breath before continuing. “I couldn’t save my younger brother. He was barely five years old and he died in my arms. Strucker watched me break on that night, he took away the last bit of happiness and hope I had left. So yeah, I remained with Hydra, following through on the orders I was given, that was until I met Wanda and Pietro. They reminded me what it meant to be family, to have someone who would go to the literal ends of the earth for you, because they would have died for each other, and their home. They reminded me that, maybe yeah, working with Hydra isn’t the greatest choice, hell, it’s not smart either but they only joined because they were misled, Hydra took their beliefs, their faith and used it for their own gains, making themselves two weapons that would match the greatness of the Winter Soldier. Steve may have seen war over the years he’s been on top, but he hasn’t seen the same war that you and I have so he doesn’t understand.” Bucky only nodded, knowing they were right with everything they had just told him. “Not everyone’s war is the same war, whether it be physical or mental.” With that they walked away, heading up towards the kitchen to grab some water.

“You’re new here.” A voice sounded as Y/N opened the fridge.

“Unfortunately, I am.” They answered, turning to face a teenager.

“Are you an Avenger?” He questioned excitedly.

“Not really, no.” Y/N answered him honestly. “Are you?” They questioned him.

“No, Mr Stark doesn’t think I’m responsible enough.” He told them, jumping down from the counter. “But I am your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman.” He smiled confidently.

“Oh, so you’re the bug kid?” They teased him with a smirk.

“No, I’m Spiderman.” He answered them seriously.

“Just a question, how do you manage to climb walls or ceilings, if it's because your skin is like that of a spiders, how does that work through the costume?” They asked him, a serious expression on their face.

“I don’t really know.” He pondered, thinking about it. “I never really thought about it.”

“I’m only joking, kid.” They told him with a light chuckle, heading towards the exit. “I need to go and shower, but it was nice meeting you Spiderman.”

“Peter, Peter Parker.” He held out his hand for them to shake.

“Y/N.” They introduced themselves before heading straight to their room, Steve entering shortly after they left.

“Don’t interact with them.” He ordered Peter. “You don’t know what kind of killer they are.”

“Technically, aren’t we all killers in some way.” Peter told him honestly.

“They are different, dangerous and untrustworthy.” Steve told him sternly.

“I think I can trust my own judgment Mr Rogers.” Peter told him confidently before retreating towards Tony’s lab, leaving Steve defeated.

As the days went on, Y/N still remained distant from the rest of the team, only going to the kitchen for food or water, and training at night while everyone was either asleep or occupied with other things. One night, they never expected to have company whilst they were doing their own training.

“Hey.” Nat spoke up as she entered the room, watching as Y/N soon started to put down the equipment they were using.

“I was just finishing up.” They started before grabbing their belongings and heading towards the exit.

“I didn't want you to leave, Y/N.” Nat told them calmly. Y/N observed her, trying to figure out what she wanted. “I know it’s hard for you to settle in here right now, especially with Steve on his high horse.”

“What are you trying to get across?” Y/N asked her, tilting their head as Nat shuffled on her feet and glancing around the room.

“You were right, we all have blood on our hands, whether we intended or not.” She started, Y/N remained silent as they listened to her. “You are more alike to a vast majority of us here, we have all had a bad start in our careers but we had the chance to turn it around, fight for something that’s worth fighting for and Steve, he just doesn’t understand that. He has always fought for good, he has never had to endure the lack of choices the rest of us here have. He just doesn’t understand that sometimes freedom of choice isn’t always an option.”

“That’s not going to change how he sees me, he won’t ever trust me, not alone nor a part of this team.” They told her honestly.

“Then prove it to him.” She told them firmly. “Prove it that you can be trusted, not only as a part of this team but as a person.” Y/N then turned to walk away before she started to talk again. “You know, Wanda seems happier with having you here and back in her life. I’ve never really seen her so settled here, not before you came here.”

“She deserves to be happy.” Y/N spoke quietly, turning back to her once more. “That’s all I have ever wanted for her, to be happy and safe, and I know she is safe here with all of you.” With that they left the training room, leaving Nat alone in the empty room. Y/N had started to feel a new sense of belonging since having that conversation with Nat, feeling more at ease in their new home.

“So, you only have one more job left on your Hydra Agenda?” Maria questioned as she joined Y/N in their room, looking over the information they had gathered on the last name.

“Yeah, but this may be harder than all of the others.” They told her, giving her the folder. “Theodore is the head of an old Mafia family, his location is like a fortress.” They informed her. “It’s going to be harder for me to just sneak in and get the job done under the radar like I have all of the others.”

“And it seems he has doubled his security measures too.” She murmured as she combed through the pages. “So you’re going to need a team.”

“But with this one, we may be able to take down this whole organization itself.” Y/N stated. “It will help the local police too, especially since most of the crime here is caused by them.”

“We can always talk to Fury about putting a team together and then we can take them.” Maria told them. “I’ll speak with Fury and see if we can spare a team of SHIELD agents and when we can get this job done.” Y/N thanked her before she left their room, shortly after Wanda entered, leaning against the door frame.

“Hey.” She spoke softly, gaining their attention, gesturing to her to come inside.

“Hey.” They smiled awkwardly as they turned their desk chair to face her. “Are you okay?” They asked as they watched her walk around their room, observing the decor.

“You haven’t decorated, you know, like made this room your own.” She told them as she turned to face them.

“Well, I don’t exactly know what I’m supposed to do.” They admitted shyly. “I haven’t really thought of colours or anything else like that since, well you know.” They looked down at their hands, sadness evident in their posture.

“That’s okay.” Wanda reassured them. “Maybe we can make this room more your style if you’d like.”

“I don’t even know what my style is.” They chuckled as they rose from their chair, heading towards their closet. “I think I just dress in the same colours of my uniforms, which luckily is always black.” They didn’t watch as Wanda found an old picture of herself and Pietro when they were teens.

“You found this?” She questioned as she picked it up, a small smile on her face.

“I uh, Maria found it on the ground near me when they found me.” They admitted sheepishly. “I couldn’t not keep it, I know this is going to seem messed up but you and Pietro were like the only family I had ever had over the years. You both made me see what it was like to finally have hope and someone who would always have your back.”

“It’s not messed up.” She whispered shakily, her eyes burning into Y/N’s, neither of them breaking away. “I just thought it was lost forever.”

“No.” They shook their head. “I lo..” They stopped before thinking carefully what to say. “I like having that picture around, because it reminded me of the two of you.”

“You know, Pietro thought highly of you, even with your position at Hydra.” She told them as she placed the photo back down. “When we thought you died, he uh, he was almost as broken as I was.” She admitted as she sat down on the edge of their bed, playing with her fingers.

“I am sorry.” They apologised once more, only for Wanda to wave it off.

“You don’t need to keep apologising for that.” She chuckled lightly as she looked in their eyes, her gaze soft as she spoke. “The important thing is that you are here, you’re alive and I finally have you back.” She took a shaky breath as Y/N listened to her words. “I understand that you couldn’t come and look for me, and that’s okay.”

“I did want to find you.” Y/N admitted shyly. “I wanted to make sure that you were okay, that you were safe and well you are, given the circumstances.” They took a deep breath before they spoke once more, looking at her intensely. “I really am sorry about Pietro, he was a hero, not just to you or me, but to the whole world and your home.” Wanda nodded before she wiped her eyes, Y/N was quick to move to sit beside her, cautiously wrapping an arm around her.

“Thank you.” She sniffled as she looked at them as they sat beside her. “But, maybe we should go shopping for some paint and decorate this room. Get you out of this compound and maybe have some freedom from work.”

“Yeah, we should do that.” They agreed as they removed their arm from her. “Maybe after my last target.”

“Are you almost done with that list?” She questioned as Y/N nodded.

“I just have to assemble a team to accompany me on this one.” They told her. “Unfortunately, this last one knows that someone is onto them and well, it’s going to be extremely difficult to do my usual thing.”

“I can help.” Wanda started as Y/N shook their head no. “Why not?” She questioned as she stood up, her eyes burning into them.

“I just.” They started before they let go of a breath they were holding in. “Fury is picking the team so I don’t really have a choice who is joining me.” Wanda observed them, hoping they would say something else but only to receive silence.

“Okay.” Wanda pursed her lips before she headed towards the door, wanting to say something more but deciding not to as she left them alone in their room. Y/N looked at their door before they groaned and lay back on their bed.

“You know, it’s kind of sad how you both tip toe around each other.” Nat spoke up with a smirk as she leaned on their door frame.

“Are you sure you don’t have some sort of superpower?” Y/N questioned as she just chuckled.

“Nope, I am just extremely bored and well I have been asked to accompany you, Maria, Clint and some other agents on your next trip.” She informed them as she stepped in their room. “But you should really grow a pair of balls and tell her how you really feel.” She told them quietly as she stepped inside their room and closed the door.

“I don’t know what you mean.” They tried as Nat moved to sit in their desk chair.

“Yeah, you do.” She told them. “I can see how you look at her, ever since you came here you give her the same look every time.”

“I can’t tell her.” They said as they sat up, facing the Widow. “I just got her back and I don’t want to lose her again. I can’t do that again, she was my lifeline whilst we were both in Hydra, the one person who helped me hold on to the hope that I had already thought I had lost when I was younger.”

“Trust me, you won’t lose her.” Nat told them softly. “I can see just how important you are to her too.”

“Really?” They asked hopefully.

“Really, it’s kind of a hobby of mine to observe everyone and figure out things before anyone else does.” She told them with a smirk. “I don’t like to be the last to know, and it’s even better when I know things before Stark because he hates not always figuring things out.”

“Thank you.” Y/N spoke shyly as they picked at their cuticles. “It’s nice to have a friend, if that’s what we even are.” The two shared a laugh as Nat nodded.

“We’re friends.” She told them as she stood up. “But, I would kick your ass if you hurt Wanda in any way shape or form.”

“You wouldn’t need to.” They told her, watching as she raised a brow. “I would kick my own ass if I ever did something to hurt her, no matter how small it is.” Nat smiled before she headed towards the door.

“Good.” She smiled before opening the door. “I shall see you at the briefing for our mission.” With that she left the room, Y/N remained in their spot, thinking about what Nat had just told them before deciding to get up to find Wanda. Searching her room and everywhere else they could think of before they entered the kitchen, watching as Wanda cooked as Vision helped her, Wanda laughing as Vision spoke to her, their chest tightening at the scene that played before them before deciding to head back to their room. Not realising that Wanda knew they were there, a sad look in her eye at the doorway of the kitchen before she continued her conversation with Vision.

“Are you okay, Wanda?” Vision questioned as he observed her change in mood.

“Oh, yeah.” Wanda over compensated as she continued to cook.

“I am not entirely an expert on human emotions, but I can see that you are clearly troubled by something.” He told her. “You have actually been like this since Y/N had arrived here.”

“It’s nothing.” She tried to wave him off.

“Wanda, I like to think that you and I are somewhat friends.” He spoke as he watched her actions. “And not just because of the connection with the mind stone, so I just want you to know that if ever you need to talk about anything, I am always here for you.”

“Thank you Vis.” Wanda spoke quietly, keeping her eye on the task at hand as the next few moments were filled with silence before she spoke again. “I just want to know why they wouldn’t want me to accompany them on their last job on this list, they told me it’s a dangerous one and that they need a team.” She slammed the wooden spoon down as she continued. “I have my powers, I am in control and I will help more so than any of the trained SHIELD agents Fury will assign.”

“Maybe they’re just thinking about your safety.” He reasoned with her. “I understand that they have always wanted to keep you safe, as from the stories you have told me.”

“But I need to think about their safety too.” Wanda told him. “I can’t go through losing them, not again, I’m not strong enough.”

“You are stronger than you think Wanda.” Vision told her before the two carried on with their task.

As the days went on leading up to the mission, Y/N had tried their hardest to avoid both Wanda and Vision, after witnessing their interaction in the kitchen as they both cooked, but as they were getting their gear all set, secretly hoping for Wanda to come to see them off, but she had had the same idea as them.

“All set?” Nat questioned as they approached the car, getting in the passenger seat without another word.

“So, does everyone understand what the plan is?” Y/N asked her, ignoring her observing glance.

“They do, no one comes out alive.” She informed them, watching from the corner of her eye as they nodded. “Are you going to be okay?” She asked them as she drove towards their destination.

“Yeah.” They told her bluntly.

“Are you sure? ‘Cause it seems like you have your knickers stuck up your ass right now.” She told them, making them look over at her.

“I am sure.” They told her. “And for the record, I wear boxers. Knickers would strangle my bollocks.”

“I didn’t want to know that!” She exclaimed with disgust on her face, making Y/N chuckle as they approached the rendezvous point for their mission. Seeing the team of agents who were assigned along with Maria and Clint who were both ready to complete the mission. “But, we’ll get this bastard.” She told them as they got themselves ready, placing their mask over their head before exiting the car with her, weapons in arms as they approached the others. Maria was going over the plan once more, making sure that everyone knew their positions and the goal of this mission before they all made their way to infiltrate the fortress. Clint being their eyes from high above, alerting them all on comms of when they had come across an enemy, ready to take them down.

Both Y/N and Nat were making their way swiftly through the halls, shooting anyone who was a threat to either of them, heading straight towards Theodore’s room. Y/N had one goal in mind and that was to completely disable any chance of Hydra being reborn. As the air was filled with the sound of gunshots and yelling, both Nat and Y/N had approached the door to Theodore’s room, Y/N had signaled for Nat to breach the door, throwing in a flashbang before Y/N had entered the room, shooting anyone who was armed in the process before their eyes found Theodore, who had a gun raised at them.

“What do you want from me?” He questioned as he had aimed his weapon at Y/N’s head.

“This.” Y/N answered bluntly before pulling the trigger, watching as he dropped to the ground as Nat followed behind them.

“Looks like you didn’t need to buddied-up after all.” She smirked as they turned to face her. “You practically cleared this room on your own.”

“I like to be efficient.” They told her as they moved to exit the room, looking behind her as they watched one of Theodore’s men enter the hall, their gun raised as Y/N moved to push Nat to the side before shooting him themselves.

“What was.” Nat started before she turned to watch as Y/N fell to their knees, holding onto their stomach before she moved to them. “We need a medevac now! Theodore’s room, Y/N’s been shot.” She spoke through her comms as she soon put pressure on their wound. “Be careful, they’re using diamond tipped bullets!” She told them as she tried to keep pressure on their wound. “You’re going to be okay.” She tried to reassure them, listening as the gunfire was starting to die down.

“Nat!” Maria yelled as she ran through the hall towards them.

“It’s bad.” Nat told her, watching as Y/N was slipping out of consciousness. “Really bad.”

“It’s going to be okay.” Maria told her. “We have a chopper ETA 5.”

“But.” Nat tried again as Maria shook her head.

“Trust me, they have survived worse than this.” She reassured her. “We’re going to get them to Dr Cho and you know yourself she is the best.” Nat nodded as she kept pressure on the wound.

“Y/N?” She called out as she noticed their eyes closing. “Y/N?” As she kept calling their name, more agents and medics had arrived, Maria moving her to allow them to do their work as they lifted Y/N onto the gurney.

“Come on.” Maria pulled Nat with her, heading straight towards their car and heading straight towards SHIELD HQ. “Since when do you care about them?” Maria questioned as she drove, Nat’s eyes remained on her hands which were covered in Y/N’s blood.

“I uh, we’re friends.” Nat told her honestly, diverting her gaze towards the road ahead as Maria sped through traffic. “But they saved me.”

“What?” Maria questioned.

“They uh, they pushed me out of the way.” She mumbled, her eyes going back to her hands. “I wasn’t paying attention behind me, and Clint never warned us of any other assailants. He should have informed us, he was informing the rest of you. I heard him on comms.”

“What?” Maria questioned, her brow furrowed as she thought for a moment. “He had the drone monitor. Do you think it was deliberate?” She questioned as Nat thought for a moment.

“He wouldn’t have been able to tell who was me or Y/N on the monitor.” Nat responded thoughtfully. “Do you think it was deliberate?” She questioned as Maria shrugged.

“I don’t know, but I will find out when we get back to HQ.” She answered firmly, wanting to get to the bottom of it.

[howtostartafight]

You really thought you did something? That uno reverse card is pointless (and dumb) when all of your points are untrue and don't even have a basis in canon. The Jedi (as written by Lucas) have never justified or even perpetuated a genocide and I have no idea where you are even getting your information when it is so blatantly untrue. (Anakin and Dooku were both no longer Jedi when they committed the atrocities that they did.) The Jedi don't even use violence as their first choice, they're diplomats first and foremost. They even offered Palpatine the option of surrendering before he killed Saesae, Agen, and Kit and Mace realized he was too dangerous to be kept alive.

The Jedi are not a cult by any definition, they don't brainwash anyone and they certainly don't force anyone to stay a Jedi. Dooku himself left the Order with no contest and even remained in contact with people there because they loved him and still thought of him as a friend even though he didn't want to be a Jedi anymore. And what "dark & unnatural families" are you even talking about???? Jedi come from all over. Dooku was a noble, Feemor was a farmer's son, Quinlan was royalty, Aayla was a slave, A'Sharad was a legendary Jedi's son. The Jedi came from all over and your attempt to generalize is sad. The Jedi don't need to "fix" anyone, they teach them the ways of the Jedi and if that doesn't fit with how the child wants to lead their life, they can join the Jedi Service Corps or, y'know, go home???? They don't even kidnap kids, the parents have every right to refuse. Hell, Quinlan's parents DID refuse and Tholme only taught him when he was younger because of how strong his psychometry was. Quin was never supposed to join the order, but his parents were killed by his aunt and then his aunt tortured him, and it wasn't safe for him to be on his home planet anymore. Jedi aren't hive-minded either, the Jedi Code is literally up for interpretation by members and they're aware they have differing interpretations

You also can't fucking remake the definition of genocide just because you feel like it??? A genocide is, by definition, "the deliberate and systematic destruction of a racial, political, or cultural group." The Jedi were most definitely a culture and their genocide was planned for over a thousand years, so definitely deliberate and systematic. The Jedi don't mold children to their box, because there's no single, perfect way to be a Jedi. They teach mindfulness and self-discipline, they value knowledge, balance, and teaching. They aren't victims of circumstance, their deaths were orchestrated and planned for and, again, a GENOCIDE. The Jedi were quite literally the most open minded people in the galaxy, they were inter-galactic diplomats and peacekeepers. There is no way they would have been able to do their job if they weren't open minded and considerate of other cultures.

Sure I'll give you that maybe the Sith weren't based on Nazis, but you can't say that Palpatine's (Nazi based) Empire is separate. Palpatine is a fucking Sith???? He is the culmination of over a thousand years of planning and manipulation. He IS what the Sith wanted. He and his Empire aren't separate from the Sith, the Sith RAN the Empire. He created it, he defined it, and he is exactly what the Sith dreamed of. Complete and utter power and control over the galaxy. The Jedi weren't even remotely similar to Nazis, they welcomed differences (including religions, so many Jedi practiced their homeworlds religion) and had the most diverse range of sentients in their ranks. They didn't even have to hide behind a halo, they knew they weren't perfect, because they were only human, and strived to simply be the best they could.

The Sith's core beliefs were not "self-empowerment and personal freedom"?????? Where did you even get that idea?? Self-empowerment literally means "making meaningful choices and positive change" and not a single change the Sith ever made was positive. Yes, the Sith were founded by a former Jedi, who wanted more knowledge and POWER through the dark side. They were driven by their hatred, anger, and greed for more than what they had. They spent a thousand years planning for a galactic takeover, they started a war for it, and began their takeover with a genocide. No sensible Sith was focused on survival, they literally killed each other to further their own power when the other showed weakness.

Sith concepts are the opposite of great??? They kill each other to further their power, which is part of the reason they fell (because of all the infighting). I have no idea where you got the idea that Jedi think people "need their saving" and "who you are is bad and wrong" because it's insane. The amount of differences welcomed and cherished by the Jedi compared to the Sith?? The Jedi openly allowed their members to practice their homeworlds religions and cultures (Bariss, Luminara, Shaak-Ti, and Ahsoka all do off the top of my head). Sure you may feel that way about the Sith, but that just signals to me that something about Star Wars was fundamentally misunderstood by you, because every time the Sith appear on screen, they do something AWFUL. (Genocide, murder, torture comes to mind).

Yea I know the Sith were former Jedi. Former Jedi who became fanatics and started millenia of suffering. They also left the Jedi themselves, the Jedi didn't "throw them away". They rejected their new practices because they were dangerous and built their empire on the backs of slaves and suffering.

Jedi were peace-loving warrior-monks. They spent their lives fighting for democracy and equality. If you had bothered to do your research, you'd know that both the Sith and the Jedi were based on "knighthood, chivalry, paladinism, samurai bushido, Shaolin Monastery, Feudalism, Hinduism, Qigong, Greek philosophy and mythology, Roman history and mythology, Sufism, Confucianism, Shintō, Buddhism and Taoism, and numerous cinematic precursors." Please point to where on that list Catholicism and Nazis fall. I beg of you to give me one good example of how the Jedi are inspired by either of those things. Just saying it is never going to make anyone believe you. And point me to where the Jedi were systemic liars, because I can point you to where the Sith were.

I am very far from media illiterate. Lucas wrote the Jedi as the good guys. Therefore, they are the good guys. It wasn't shades of gray where the Sith were right sometimes and the Jedi were right others. The Jedi were warrior-monks who kept the peace for centuries. I know exactly what I'm talking about. I have citations and proof. You do not. You have not given me a single example of your claims.

I didn't even call you either of those things, please get checked for cataracts. Don't even know where you got the idea that I was a weird church kid or I tell people they're "going to burn in hell" but honestly you clearly make illogical assumptions all the time so I'm not shocked.

order 66 was NOT a genocide. you can only genocide people & cultures, you can’t genocide a systemically deified super-religion that wants everyone in existence to either agree with them & exist their way or burn in hell for eternity. any decent ppl who went down with the purge forfeit their lives down the drain along with their family, home & very sense of self. they. had. it. fucking. coming.

from an indigenous person, fuck y’all for even comparing order 66 to genocide & talking all over survivors of real genocides to save face for your evangelical faith & the people you think are good guys. you are not about to disrespect the continent-sized OCEANS of blood that make up our ancestors & loved ones who were lost to real genocide. fuck off.

[gothamite-rambler]

Lex pt 2

Lex (in the middle of a long, boring story): I had Superman on the ropes. I could've killed him, but then freaking Batman ruined things!

Bruce (staring into his coffee cup): Tragic loss.

Lex: Right! I almost had him and then that jerk stepped in, but wait let me go back to what led up to that. You know, before Batman stepped in.

Bruce: Mm-hm.

Bruce stayed focused on his black coffee as Lex continued to drone on about this past incident, which Bruce didn’t believe, mainly because he was there as Batman. Lex didn’t almost kill Superman; he had kryptonite that Batman was able to swipe away quickly. Currently, though, he wasn’t Batman. He was Bruce Wayne, lost in his own thoughts.

Bruce (in his head): I'm so tired... I only got an hour of sleep. Younger me could keep going on forty-five minutes, but now I can barely focus. Is Lex still talking, he repeated this story once already?

Lex (continuing to ramble): I hired a good lawyer, though, and those charges were dropped! Great, right?

Bruce: Fantastic. Want to discuss another story about yourself?

Lex smiled, feeling this was an appreciation of him, when in reality, Bruce would rather be anywhere else at the moment but was too checked out to leave.

Clark (calling from a distance): Bruce?

Clark visited Gotham to search for Bruce, needing his aid for a plan involving Lex, who was currently in the middle of scheme in Metropolis. He wasn’t expecting his buddy to be out for coffee. Lex, thankfully unaware of who Clark Kent really was, had no idea why the reporter from Metropolis was in the fancier part of town.

Lex: Bruce, there’s a crazy person calling for you!

Bruce glanced behind his shoulder, then returned to staring into the dark liquid.

Bruce: That’s a friend of mine.

Clark heard Bruce say that and smiled happily.

Lex: A poor guy is your friend? As a joke or something?

Clark, having overheard what Lex said next, changed his smile to a stoic expression. He wasn’t surprised that even in civilian clothes, Lex couldn’t resist being a jerk to the middle class or poor. Clark made it to the table where Lex eyed him suspiciously while Bruce wondered what the graining specks in his coffee were.

Clark Kent (stammering): Bruce… Wh-Why is that random guy with you at this place?

Lex Luthor (rude): Random? That’s rich coming from you. Oh wait, you’re not rich either; I can tell. To spare my friend the stress, I’ll order you kindly to leave.

Clark clenched his fists tightly, staying next to Bruce and preparing to pull him away.

Clark: I’m here to see my best buddy! I was visiting Gotham to... get lunch with him at a good restaurant, not this fake French cuisine with tiny food and expensive prices.

Lex smirked, resting his arms on the table.

Lex: That was a long-winded way of saying you’re poor and taking him to a gross fast food joint.

Clark: Well, Bruce would disagree. He likes cheap and simple foods, right Bruce?

Bruce hummed while taking a long sip from his coffee, the bitter taste refreshing on his tongue as he felt his mind become less weary. Bruce raised an index finger as he downed the entire fancy clear mug of his black coffee.

Lex (judgmental glare): He’s ignoring you. Take that as a hint.

Clark: No, he’s tired and needs a minute.

With a playful smack, Clark tapped Bruce on the back of the head as Bruce placed the empty glass back on the saucer.

Bruce: All right, that tasted bitter. Just how I like my coffee. Clark, when did you get here?

Lex (chuckling): Oh, ouch! He wasn’t even aware you were near him. That’s what you get for hitting him. Who do you think you are?

Clark: More important to him than you, isn’t that right, Bruce?

Bruce (shrugging): I mean, I’d rather be at work.

Lex (oblivious): Bruce, I get it. This nuisance is bothering you. I’ve seen him in Metropolis. He’s just a paperboy.

Clark (shocked): Paperboy?!

Bruce (correcting): He’s a reporter and journalist at the Daily Planet.

Clark: That’s right!

Lex (laughing): A reporter? That’s hilarious. The fact that he thinks he’s friends with you is even funnier. I thought you bottom feeders were supposed to be good at research and noticing the obvious.

Bruce eyed Clark warily but remained silent since this wasn’t his villain.

Lex: Bruce, pal, what did you tell him? I need to know so I can use it on another poor person.

Bruce: We’re actually friends; there’s nothing deceitful about it.

Clark: Aww, thanks Bruce.

Lex scoffed, remaining doubtful about this, which only made Clark angrier.

Clark (tight smile): The crazy thing is, I recognize you. Lexie, was it? Insane billionaire, arrested numerous times but always walks away because of your money… Superman has beaten you to a pulp how many times? Lost count. Bruce, you know how many times he lost?

Bruce (dryly): I stopped counting after fifty.

Lex (clenching his jaw): Okay, my name is Lex. Lex Luthor, and the charges were dropped.

Clark (sarcastic): Yeah, daddy’s money does that for you.

Bruce cleared his throat, visibly annoyed.

Clark (stumbling over his words): Not—Not you, buddy. You haven’t committed serious crimes and then walked away because you threw money at the problem.

Lex: Okay, but he’s bailed his son out of jail a lot. Sorry, Bruce, just needed to prove a point.

Bruce shrugged, getting up to get another cup of coffee. Clark and Lex waited for a few seconds, silently judging the other man.

Clark (speaking first): I have to admit, though, Lex, you look less crazed and disheveled than you did in that mugshot where you got arrested for punching a yacht captain. Impressive, did you make sure to buy out the shirts they're selling of your mugshot on the front?

Lex: He told me he’d kick me off the ship when I did nothing wrong! And yes, I'm fighting for a copyright on the shirts! That's my money!

Bruce sat back down at the table with a new cup of coffee and took another sip.

Bruce: I’m going to take this with me.

Bruce poured the rest of the contents into a travel mug he brought with him, causing Lex to look on in shock.

Lex: He got that from you, Cline? Only poor people take leftover coffee with them!

Clark (gritted teeth): My name is Clark.

Lex (smirking): Paperboy, don’t you have a sensationalist, false story to write?

Clark: Hey, we fact-check all our sources! That was only in the '60s!

Bruce stared at his carrot cake, pondering if he should’ve gotten a different flavor.

Bruce: I should’ve gotten the strawberry cake. This is too dry.

Lex (glaring at Clark): I’m not sure what he told you, poor man, but he probably just said that you were friends to be nice. So I’m going to say this one last time: leave.

Clark clenched his fists, anger bubbling beneath the surface. Bruce sighed, standing up with his travel mug.

Bruce: Clark clearly needs me for something urgent, Alexander. My apologies, but I have to talk to him before he says or does something he regrets.

Clark gulped, holding his head down.

Bruce: We can meet up in three weeks.

Lex shrugged.

Lex: Works for me; we can discuss that merger you were interested in.

Bruce (shaking his head): I wasn’t, but put that in the back of your mind for next time. Clark, go the other way.

Clark (smugly): I will. Have the day you deserve, Alexander.

Lex: You call me Lex!

Clark walked off, smiling. Bruce raised his coffee as a sign of goodbye to Lex and followed behind Clark. Lex crossed his arms, perplexed at one thing and assuming the two were out of earshot.

Lex: Bruce is a strange man, but is he friends with that guy because he’s lonely? Geez, I have to find some middle-class people he can be around.

Clark groaned, unfortunately overhearing what Lex said.

Bruce: He’s talking about us?

Clark: Yes... I hate that guy. When were you going to tell me you were talking to that asshole? Is this like Arthur? What does he have that I don’t?

Bruce: Oh my God, for the last time, Arthur and I are friends. Get over it. With Lex, we got stuck in an elevator during a business trip. He kept rambling about the dumbest shit and blaming everyone for his crimes, but he assumed me barely responding meant I wanted to be his friend. He hasn't left me alone since.

Clark (nodding): That sounds about Lex.

Bruce chuckled, agreeing.

Bruce: Yep, today he caught me when I was tired and offered to buy me coffee. I couldn’t say no; it’s free coffee.

Clark (gently patting Bruce on the back): Also fair. Freaking Lex, trying to steal my best buddy.

Bruce: I can’t believe I’m in the middle of this. What did you actually visit for?

Clark (serious): Well, bad news... Lex is after Batman this time, and I thought you should know.

Bruce (concerned): How did you find this out?

Clark: A reporter has his ways of finding out because I'm a credible one. Not one that spreads false news!

Bruce: We are not even near him anymore; calm down. We can discuss the rest of this at the manor.

Clark: Perfect.

Clark placed his arm on Bruce’s shoulder, but the man sidestepped away, not in the mood.

pt 1

[maxdibert]

What are your headcanons on Severus and the Malfoys? Do you think he genuinely considered them friends, or was it part of his cover? Or were they ever really friends at some point?

I have so much to say about this! I actually have two different versions of the story, and I think both of them could be canon. I can never decide between them because both seem plausible, so I’ll share my opinion on each and let everyone decide which one fits best.

Despite being a poor, scruffy, half-blood kid from a working-class background, I think Lucius took Severus under his wing because, after all, Lucius was already a 15-year-old teenager who was likely quite involved in pure-blood extremist circles and had probably heard of Voldemort by then. He was probably trying to make a good impression by recruiting as many people as possible. And despite Severus’ background, treating him with respect was a pretty shrewd move to maintain unity within Slytherin and promote that “us against the world” mentality. This would ultimately foster the cult-like environment that developed during that era. I also think that, after seeing that Severus, beyond his background, had a strong interest and talent for the Dark Arts and was a good student, Lucius probably saw that Severus’ skills could be useful, which is why he kept him under his wing. Lucius Malfoy is often portrayed as a snobbish buffoon, but besides being a shrewd man, he’s part of high society, old money. And even the classist aristocrats know how to make use of the working class and recognize talent because, historically, they’ve maintained their position by exploiting such talent.

I think Lucius and Severus maintained that mentor-pupil relationship for many years, and once Lucius graduated, he intervened to help Severus be accepted and valued within his House while also using him as a sort of personal charity project. Like Cher in Clueless (who’s based on Emma Woodhouse from Jane Austen) taking on an awkward kid from the North without wealth or pedigree and turning him into someone fit for high magical society—a kind of social experiment, if you will. I think this made Severus feel indebted to him, at least before Voldemort killed Lily. I also believe that, during Severus’ school years, his gratitude stemmed not only from this “mentorship” but also from the fact that, for the first time, someone believed in him and motivated him to pursue his ambitions. Lucius was like a father/older brother figure whom he respected and appreciated for seeing him as more than just a poor kid with nothing.

That said, my interpretation of their relationship splits into two possibilities once Severus becomes a double agent.

On one hand, there’s the idea that, after Lily’s death, feeling guilty and determined to actively work for Voldemort’s downfall, Severus emotionally distanced himself from the Malfoys as much as possible. The relationship they developed over the next 18 years would then be solely a means to an end—to gain favor with someone influential within the Ministry and among the most important dark wizards. Deep down, it was all a façade because the Malfoys also represented everything he despised and regretted being a part of, so he decided to cut off any emotional attachment to them. Basically: it was all fake.

The other version, and the one I prefer because it feels more realistic, is that Severus, as the abused and abandoned child he was, would always experience cognitive dissonance toward people who treated him well during his most vulnerable years. It’s something evident in his view of Lily, even though he was joining a group that literally wanted to kill people like her, and I can see it applying to his view of the Malfoys as well. Though they were a family actively working to end people like Lily, and Severus would ultimately have to confront them if it came to it, he’d still struggle to sever his emotional ties with the Malfoys. Just as he couldn’t understand why his friendship with Lily was ending because of his choices, I don’t think he’d be able to emotionally cut off the Malfoys, even if he knew they were terrible or knew he might eventually have to face them in battle. Much like how Lily being the first person to treat him with kindness was enough to make him risk everything to atone for his indirect role in her death and his support of Voldemort, I think Lucius “taking him in” also carved out a streak of loyalty in Severus toward his family. Severus strikes me as someone fiercely loyal to anyone who’s shown him kindness or understanding, even if that loyalty is against his own interests. And despite everything, I think he genuinely cared about the Malfoys. While he no longer admired Lucius, I think he still respected him in a certain way, like a younger brother who knows his older brother is a jerk but still sees him as his older brother.

I also think Narcissa had a kind of “older sister” vibe for him—that when she and Lucius were dating and Severus was still a kid, she saw him as this scruffy little guy, like a cute but poor puppy. And that impression probably stuck with him too. I think he always felt more comfortable with her than with Lucius, since she was associated more with the maternal than with authority. While his favoritism toward Slytherins was partly to maintain appearances and partly due to resentment toward Gryffindors, I believe he genuinely liked Draco. This affection, though, was likely another form of cognitive dissonance because Draco was far more similar to James than Harry ever was (in terms of character, classism, and using his status, family name, and influence to torment others). But just as his hatred of Harry was a reflection of his resentment toward James, his affection for Draco was probably a reflection of his relationship with Lucius and Narcissa.

[shygirl4991]

Faker

Im going through a hard time this month with my cats health so thought i do a random vent fic enjoy.

Summary: They fake to make it, they both are lonely losers that manage to make the best of it. Sometimes a vent fight helps them find some peace from their trauma. Tag: Trauma bonding, crush hinted, SMG34, the gays are fighting

SMG4 yawns as he gets out of bed, the morning light shines hitting the man in the eyes. He squints as he closes the curtains, for once SMG4 got to bed at a decent time. With a proud smile the guardian leaves his room to get breakfast together, that's when he notices a purple blur pass by his window. He turns and sees a depressed looking SMG3, concerned for his partner he runs to his bedroom to put on his iconic overalls before heading to Three’s coffee n bombs. As he approaches the cafe, he catches SMG3 sitting at a table outside. With a bright smile Four greets the man “Hey three! How is everything going?” Three sighs as he glares at SMG4 “What do you want SMG4?” he spat out making SMG4 take a step back. It was clear as day that Three was not having a good day, he looked around and noticed not a single customer showed up. Frowning, Four nervously points it out “Still not having luck?” Three growls getting up from his seat “WHY DO YOU CARE?” The anger and hatred that came out made Four’s eyes go wide. 

He then lets out a sigh as he keeps talking to Three with a cheerful tone “We are friends Three, of course i would worry. Is there any way I can help you?” Three rolls his eyes walking to his cafe door “Why? To show you're better than me?”  Four shakes his head “No! Come on Three, we make a great team don't we…there is no need to push me away.” Three’s grip on the door handle tightens, every night since the usb garbage incident he has been haunted by an image of SMG4. He grins down at Three calling him pathetic, that he is nothing but a faker acting tough when he is nothing but a softy at heart. His grip lightens as he wonders if that version of Four had a point, shaking his head he pulls the door open. Seeing this Four runs after him, he grabs Three’s hand in concern “Three what is going on with you?”

Three turns smacking Four’s hand away “What's wrong?  Everything I do fails! No matter how hard I try to entertain people, everyone sees my content as cringe. I make the cafe of my dreams and no one comes due to…the owner being unlikable.” Four reaches out to comfort Three only for the other man to walk away from it, Four looks down thinking before giving the man a small smile “You have done successful things, you're super smart and figured out how to out smart so many of the villains we fight! Remember zero, how you pointed out how to save Mario!” Three lets out a bitter laugh “You mean the same monster that killed Terrence, yeah i really got a victory for us there.” 

Four starts to get upset at how the guardian kept brushing aside his attempts to comfort him, Three walks behind the counter looking at Four with annoyance. SMG4 walks up to the counter giving SMG3 a desperate “Let me help you out Three,” that got SMG3 to laugh “Help me? How fake can you be, ah yes help with my trauma as you ignore yours!” Four stare’s confused at his partner, Three places a cup in front of Four “You were an asshole to your best friend on his day, you got a keyboard that almost killed us all. Oh yeah, how about using my past against me to get everyone to come to your fucking Christmas party!” SMG4 stares, mouth agape at SMG3 words, slowly he smacks the table causing the cup to jump slightly “oh yeah? YOU ALMOST SHOT ME BECAUSE YOUR OLD VILLAIN FRIEND TOLD YOU TO!” SMG3 growls climbing the counter to be taller than the other man “YOU ALMOST DROP ME FOR THE PERFECT VIDEO!” Four grabs Three’s leg throwing him to the floor causing the cup to fall, shattering, Four was done playing nice with the man that clearly just wanted to fight “YOU THINK NO ONE CAN TELL BUT WE ALL KNOW YOUR THE FAKE!” Hearing those words angered the man, Three kicked Four’s leg causing him to lose balance and join him on the floor. SMG3 pins the man down growling “FAKE! AT LEAST I DON'T PRETEND IM A NICE PERSON THAT CAN DO NOT WRONG!” 

They both stay silent staring at each other, breathing heavily after all their yelling. Three lets go of Four as his eyes water “And yet…i still think you're my best friend..” Four sits up surprised to hear Three’s words, thinking over the pair’s past he lets out a small chuckle “Guess in the end, we both suck huh?” Three wipes his eyes giving a small smile “At least you can admit you suck, been telling you for years.” Four playfully smacks Three as they both giggle feeling better after their small fight. Three grabs Four’s hand shyly looking off to the side, hiding his blush “I’m frustrated that things don't go my way, I hate being second place…so I took my anger out on you.”  Four smiles and scoots closer to his partner resting his head on the man's shoulder as their fingers intertwine “I forgive you, plus your right…I fake being okay cause it's hard to face all I have done.”  Three hums as he turns looking Four in his eyes “Yeah well…we have our ways to cope just remember im always here for you.” They both smile softly at each other forgetting that the cafe was open, Meggy giggles seeing the sight. Meggy and Tari walk away from the cafe with a big smile “I think it's best if we let those to talk out their feelings Tari.” 

[whateverisbeautiful]

I feel like Rick went through the most physically in TOWL and TWD. While Michonne went through the most mentally. So many people would say Maggie is the strongest female character, but I firmly believe it's Michonne. Michonne lost 2 sons, killed a bunch of kids, saved Judith, lost her female best friend, lost her boyfriend, then her soul mate, and still have the courage to rebuild civilization and have another baby. Maggie doesn't have half of what Michonne has been through. So my question is, who do u think is stronger and what makes the other stand out more.

Hi @theoneswholive32 ! It was definitely interesting to watch the ways in which Michonne and Rick's internal and external hardships paralleled each other in TOWL. And I wrote out the rest of my response to your question below: ⬇️ 💗

I do believe Michonne’s strength is unparalleled. And in choosing who stands out the most, I’m choosing Michonne every time. To be as multifaceted and well-rounded as she is, to be both one of the world’s toughest and one of the world’s tenderest, it makes her an incredibly admirable character who embodies that quote Deanna shared - “Someday this pain will be useful to you.”

Over the course of her journey, Michonne learned to turn her grief and pain into something productive and motivating rather than destructive and devastating all while still being in tune with her hurt and emotions rather than neglecting or supressing them. 

I think it’s hard to compare traumas, in that apocalyptic world especially, so I can't say I agree with the statement that Maggie hasn’t been through half as much tho.

I do agree that Michonne has been through so much and more than people tend to acknowledge. Just because one of her most painful experiences happened offscreen and before she joined the group doesn’t mean it should be dismissed. To experience losing a child at any age is absolutely tragic, and especially as a toddler when they are so defenseless and dependent on others to keep them alive. It makes sense that Michonne shut down the way she did after the horrors she endured. And the fact that she went on to grow the way she did, not by being a strong warrior robot but by reopening her heart and letting love and family in again is one of the greatest signs of her strength and character.

Maggie was put through the wringer too and one of the unique things about her losses is that the three closest people to her (husband, father, sister) didn’t just 💀 but were unalived by human hands. Two of which she had to watch lose their life painfully, slowly, and all just so their murderer could make a point. And that’s on top of the rest of her family being taken out by walkers on the farm. So, even with me being overall neutral on her character, I can’t deny that Maggie has been through a lot of hell and that she’s a strong woman.

I think one of the notable differences between Maggie and Michonne’s strengths is in how they address their issues. After Rick spared Negan, it made sense that Maggie would feel extremely hurt by that executive decision but rather than talk to Rick about it as family she concocted plans behind his back which had tragic ramifications. Whereas when Michonne has an issue with someone she’s been shown to go directly to the source and address things which is another sign of her maturity and strength. 

Now I do think when it comes to physical violence, Michonne is the woman they put through the most physical harm and that is upsetting for several reasons. There is certainly an aspect of it that feels racially charged, even if subconscious because take 9.14 for example, I genuinely can’t see them being comfortable having Maggie or Carol be beat with a pipe while 7 months pregnant the way Michonne was.

One of the millions of reasons I’m grateful to Danai for what she wrote in ep 4 of TOWL is that she actually gave Michonne the space to acknowledge what she’s been through and voice her hurt. And Michonne also got to have someone who cared to acknowledge her scars and hurt as well through Rick. That was important because all too often Black women are portrayed as having to carry so much on their own and just keep it pushing without anyone caring to see their pain or vulnerability.

And to add one more reason that I feel Michonne is exceptionally strong and a standout character is because when she found someone she could trust and be held by in Rick, she opened herself up to that too. It could have been so easy for someone as competent as her to stay the independent lone wolf but she found a partner who she can be her most human and vulnerable self with and that vulnerability shows a whole lot of strength.

So that's my little essay response. Thanks for asking! 😊

[izzyy-stuff]

For your 300 follower bash, can I request a short story/drabble where the reader is either the sixth member of TXT or a member of a gg like maybe Le Sserafim or Aespa and is in a relationship with any member (I'm ot5 so it really doesn't matter who <3) I do kind of like the idea of Hyuka being the love interest and can totally picture the other members teasing him a lot, but again any member is fine <33

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 - 𝐇𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐊𝐀𝐈

bf!blond!Kai x fem!reader

in which no matter how much his friends tease him about his girlfriend, he knows they love her just as much as he does.

wc 1.4k

warnings kissing, slightly suggestive

↪ izzy speaks... first fic for the 300 bash!! I am happy it's with huening too! I've been meaning to use these pictures for a while now.

event post | event masterlist

The smile on your face slowly fades away as you watch the three dots disappear, leaving you on ‘seen’. You raise an eyebrow in confusion, but you don’t get a chance to pay it any more attention as your best friend, Yunjin, wraps her arm around your shoulders, smirking.  

“Look who’s being all lovey-dovey again,” she teases, giggling as she snatches your phone. “You guys are so adorable it makes me sick.” Kazuha and Chaewon share a laugh with her, shaking their heads at the brunette. “Hey! Give it back! I’m in the middle of a conversation!” You try to take your phone back, but it only leads to more of Yujin’s laughing. 

Little did  you know that your dear boyfriend Kai is in the same situation as you, hiding his face in embarrassment as Beomgyu holds his phone. 

“Can’t wait to see you again,” Beomgyu reads out loud, running around the room. Usually, he wouldn’t dare to do something like this. It was Kai’s privacy, and there was no way he would cross the line, but a dare was a dare. 

“Just read it all! Get it over with,” Kai whines, his cheeks red as he stares down at his lap, listening just like everyone else. “Oh, god. I’m not reading that. That’s for sure,” Beomgyu frowns, catching Yeonjun’s attention. The youngest’s eyes widen as he realizes what chats one of his best friends has just stumbled upon. “No, no, no, don’t look through that! This far is enough. Give it back,” the blond looks up again, his eyes full of fear and awkwardness. 

But before Beomgyu can do as he asked for, Yeonjun is already up, stealing the phone from him. “Yeonjun!” Kai yells, his mind too clouded with thoughts to use honorifics. “Oh my god!” The eldest gasps. “How can our fans call you an angel?” He dramatizes. “You’re nasty.” 

“Just kill me,” Huening sighs, closing his eyes. Taehyun chuckles, patting his back. “It’s not the end of the world,” he reminds the blond, rolling his eyes when he notices Yeonjun taking pictures of the chats on his phone. Sometimes, he doubted if Jun was actually the eldest of them all. “It might be, though! She is going to kill me if she finds out you’ve read our chats.” 

“I won’t tell a soul,” Yeonjun proclaims, still laughing as he hands Kai his phone back. “But I’m glad you don’t act like a complete angel, at least with your girlfriend. Honestly, the whole innocent act has been freaking me out.” 

“I’m not even going to say anything to that,” Kai answers, gripping his phone tightly as if he were scared someone might take it away from him again. “Now, answer your girl. You don’t leave a girl waiting when she asks to hang out.” Hyuka rolls his eyes at him, opening his phone again, “I’m not stupid. I know what to do and what not.” 

“Right,” Beomgyu is the first to scoff, but it doesn’t move Kai a bit. Once his girlfriend had his attention, nothing bothered him anymore. 

♡⸝⸝  

You watch Sakura, Yujin and Kazuha go over the choreography repeatedly, mentally going over the steps along with them. You definitely couldn’t say you would excel the dance yet, but you’ve had enough for today. If you went through the choreography again, your legs might as well give up. 

“Okay, we’re clocking out now! Have fun!” Eunchae grins, swinging her bag over her shoulder while Chaewon stands beside her wearing the same annoying smirk. You catch Yujin rolling her eyes and have to laugh. “I am going to leave in a bit, too,” you say, and your best friend immediately turns to you. “What? I thought we were grabbing dinner together after practice!” She complains. 

You open your mouth to answer her, but all that leaves your lips is a shaky breath full of regret. You squeeze your eyes shut as you remember the plans you made, clapping your hands together and muttering a quiet “sorry” through them. Yujin sighs when she notices your eyes. She can’t even blame you. Not when you seem so genuine with your apology. “I kind of…forgot about it,” you admit. “And made plans with Kai instead.” 

“Alright then. You’re lucky I know Kai has been busy, and you haven’t seen him much lately,” she shakes her head, and you smile again, jumping up to hug her. “Thank you, thank you!” Yujin smiles as she wraps her hands around you. “We can have dinner tomorrow. What do you think?” You ask hopefully, and she chuckles, nodding. “Go hang out with your boyfriend now,” she says, pushing you toward the door with a laugh. 

“I’ll see you tonight! Bye!” You quickly wave at Sakura and Kazuha before the door closes behind you, and you stand in the hallway, beaming as you notice your boyfriend sitting on the side, scrolling on his phone. “Hey,” you greet him quietly, making him raise his head immediately. “You should have come in. No one would mind.” Kai grabs his bag from the bench, slightly shaking his head as he walks to you. “It’s fine,” he assures you before gently pressing his lips on yours, one of his hands wrapping around your waist while the other rests on your cheek. “Hi, pretty,” he mumbles his greeting against your lips, making you bite your bottom lip to constrain your smile. 

Hyuka holds your hand as you walk through the HYBE building, telling you about his practice and some of the stupid dares they did during their break – purposefully not mentioning the one involving his friends reading your chats – while you tell him about your practice and the main points of your new choreography, bragging about how fun they are. 

He only lets go of your hand when you get to the entrance, smiling as he lets you walk outside first, watching you walk to your car while he waits for a few minutes, just like he did many times before in order not to get anyone suspicious about your relationship with him. People don’t need to know that you’re on your way to his dorm. 

♡⸝⸝  

You chuckle at the familiar voices as you step inside the dorm room. You feel at home. Not only because of your boyfriend, but also his friends, who’ve never been anything but welcoming to you. 

“Don’t mind then. Beomgyu and Soobin got immersed in League again,” Yeonjun simply waves at you as he passes the front door on his way to his room. “Taehyun just finished making dinner, or you know where the snacks are,” he smiles. “Thank you,” you smile back, taking off your shoes. 

It doesn’t take much longer for Hyuka to arrive, too, pulling you in for a hug as soon as he gets to you. You giggle, wrapping your arms around him and relaxing. “Have they been bothering you a lot?” Your boyfriend asks softly, and you swear you could get lost in his eyes when they lock with yours. You shake your head, grabbing his hand. “You know that’s not possible.” You’re right. No matter how much his friends tease him about you whenever they get the chance, they love you just as much as Kai does. He has to smile, remembering all the times they had told him how happy they were for him. 

“Right,” Kai mumbles quietly, his eyes on your hand holding his as you take him to his room. 

No matter how much time he spends with you, every moment and touch will always be as important to him as when you first got together. “Get a room!” Beomgyu yells, making Hyuka snap out of his thoughts. “Shut up!” He yells back at him, hiding his flushed cheeks as he follows you. 

You never need to do much with Kai to have fun. Honestly, you prefer not to do anything when you’re with him. Being able to relax after a long day with some lazy kisses and back rubs sometimes means so much more than having big plans. And today is no different. 

Kai tugs your hair behind your ear and pulls you in for a kiss as soon as he sits on his bed. You get comfortable on his lap, grinning into the kiss as you close your eyes. “You’re so pretty,” he mumbles against your lips. “I haven’t been in the shower yet. I’m all stinky,” you laugh, cupping his cheek. “Still beautiful,” he assures you, not wasting any time and pressing his lips on yours again, unable to get enough. “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” you whisper back with a smile.

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[caughtthedarkness93]

My friend, a man stood in front of you and said "I would like to kill my political opposition. I would like to command the military to use physical violence against those who do not bend the knee to me." And at best, you decided it was a problem you could stomach.

This is a message he has leaned on repeatedly. He has not been subtle or ambiguous about it. Donald Trump has, in multiple situations, said that the people who do not agree with him are traitors, has said that he considers "radical leftists" to be "the enemy within," defined anyone left of Mitt Romney as a radical leftist, and said that he wanted to harm these people. And before you say that no, he didn't do that, he did.

So I want you to tell me: I want to not write off conservatives. I've known many through the years and back in the 2000s, I actually respected a lot of them. I don't want to believe the worst about you.

But you saw a choice between a candidate threatening to use the arm of the state to enact physical violence against people who do not agree with him politically and someone who wasn't.

I can see what you're doing here, the veneer of respectability, the genteel persona. I honestly wish political conversations like that were still possible. But it rings so very hollow when your standards-bearer is an avatar of petty vengeance and cruelty.

So by all means, try. Try to justify why this is the man you chose to put in a position of power. I'm listening. But the walls you're going to have to climb here are high. I will be civil as long as you are. But I will not let lies and cruelty stand. And as I see it here, you have voted for lies and cruelty. What say you in your defense?

conservatives are evil

[elibean]

here is Lu Guang screaming "NO" in reference to Cheng Xiaoshi in excruciating amounts of pain for your listening pleasure

[dykedvonte]

Honestly I see Jimmy's refusal to put Curly out of his misery less about his weird feelings of envy or his delusions but the fact Curly is all but stated to be a shield to Jimmy from his actions and people seeing the worst in him.

The only characters that Jimmy really interacts with one on one before the crash are Curly and Anya, two individuals he has wildly different relationships with. It's likely that Curly really did most of the talking between them as the pilots and the rest of the crew as staff. They didn't know of Jimmy's more reprehensible behaviors cause they never really had the chance to and Jimmy is subconsciously aware. If they had disliked him more than Anya would have told Swansea earlier or even Daisuke when things got really bad.

It's why he takes the immediate opportunity to blame Curly; He's the shield. He's saved Jimmy's ass more times than he can count and more times than Jimmy would ever admit. Even when he can't really do it anymore, he mentally shields himself from his own faults by putting Curly between them. Letting Curly die puts too much on him because he doesn't know how to function without a safety net.

In the end Curly only lives because Jimmy needs the idea that Curly will inevitably make things better to stay alive, meaning Curly has to live, no matter how much it pains him to do so.

[serenuum]

having SO many mike warren thoughts i want to share but THEYRE ALL IN MY NATIVE LANGUAGE AND ITS TOO ENERGY CONSUMING TO ACTUALLY TRANSLATE ANY OF THEm like what the FCUKK

anyway its once again going insane over special agent mike warren hours happy going insane over special agent mike warren hours to everyone who celebrates < 3333

[thursdayg1rl]

my sister ignored me again. in front of my aunt.