#it’s insane how fast your life can become a total fucking mess

[starshapedsupernova]

oversharing in the tags pls scroll unless you’re nosy <33

[hannieehaee]

titfucking

content: smut, established relationship implied, titfucking, mentions of cum-eating, etc.

wc: 697

a/n: this just came to mind at some point lol i hope u guys like it

masterlist

seungcheol -

commandeers you all throughout it despite his composure being on a very thin thread. no matter how hard he tries to fight the effect your tits around his cock have on him, he'd end up cumming faster than usual, crying out your name and begging you to give him a repeat of this as soon as he got hard again.

jeonghan -

yoon jeonghan? stuttering and out of breath? unheard of! only time you may ever see this side of jeonghan is when you get on your knees, lower your tank top and wordlessly offer up your tits for fucking. he'll stutter and make a fool of himself as he nods along, thanking you under his breath for wrapping those pretty tits around him.

joshua -

one of the only times in which he'd take a subby position in the bedroom. his obsession with your body would manifest itself in such an obvious way as he praised and worshiped you for making him feel so good in such a filthy manner.

jun -

absolute boob man, which means the idea might likely kill him on the spot. the mere mention of fucking your tits has him almost cum untouched. always comes extremely quickly at just the sight of his cock in between your breasts, giving you a huge upper hand.

soonyoung -

his eyes stick to your tits any time you're shirtless around him, and the same would occur when you gave him the grand privilege of wrapping them around his dick. he's a little extra loud and sensitive when he gets to fuck your tits, usually losing all ability to think the moment the idea is brought up.

wonwoo -

kind of a little more nonchalant about it when its first brought up but a total mess once you actually pull out his cock and begin lining it up between your tits. becomes a pathetic and desperate mess as he watches you do as you please with his cock.

jihoon -

goes insanely red and stammers for a whole minute before being able to express how down he was for the idea. this would become the main event in every late night fantasy he had about you whenever you were away from now on. he'd quite literally cry at the pleasure and sight.

seokmin -

eyes crossed and hands crumpling the sheets between his fingers. a bit of drool coming from the corner of his mouth at the feeling of your sleek tits (sleek from his cum ofc) suffocating his cock. prettiest cries known to man as he tries to praise you in between moans. is literally crying by the end of it.

mingyu -

a chorus of yeses fills the room as he enters an overly excited state, grabbing you by the hand and leading you to your room. in less than a minute you'd both be undressed and he'd be hard as a rock. would babble and drool throughout the whole experience, begging you to do it every so often.

minghao -

chuckled at you for having such a filthy idea. very down for it, but not too outwardly enthusiastic. would want to keep some sort or control during it since you are on your knees for him and everything. would have to use up all his strength to keep his composure.

seungkwan -

genuinely wonders if you have ulterior motives to kill him. you offering such a filthy thing would make him lose his mind. any last bit of sanity he may have had would leave his body when you actually put him between your breasts. would practically black out during it.

vernon -

something he's always wanted to try with you but felt too shy to ask. when you first bring it up, he literally starts choking on the food he was eating. disregards his near-death experience to drag you to your room so you can permanently alter his life with your tits around his cock.

chan -

moans out loud at the suggestion. needs it and needs it now, no matter what other plans you may have had prior. cums embarrassingly fast but makes up for it by licking his cum off your chest and worshiping your body for hours on end.

[highdramas]

your lips, my lips | b.b.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝'𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: language, possible tfatws spoilers

word count: 2404

summary: is there a more divine thought than being kissed by bucky barnes?

note: here's another installment in the twalb story <3 again, you don't have to read these in order, they stand independently, but they do all work together! PLEASE leave feedback/reblog! this is extremely helpful for me writing future parts to know what everyone likes or doesn't like!

enjoy! <3

how do you know when james bucky barnes is going to kiss you?

you’ve learned that you’re not good at figuring out when, how, or if he is going to kiss you. there have been countless moments outside your door, inside your apartment, inside his apartment, down the street at the pizza place, where you thought… this is going to be it. he’s going to hold your face in his hands and you’re going to feel the cold sting of metal that has somehow become so warm to you. he’s going to pull you in closer to him and your eyes are going to roll back into your head and you’re going to experience the bliss that is kissing james bucky barnes.

the time has never come.

because every time you tip your head back slightly and think this is the moment, it has simply never been the moment. sometimes, bucky clears his throat and gives his head a little shake, as if ridding himself of the thought that you both just shared. the thought that you could kiss right now and never look back and hope for the best. but you know bucky, you really know him, and you know that though he may not admit it often, he is fearful. and if he’s anything like you, he’s afraid of ruining this good thing that sits between the two of you, like a glowing ball of energy and goodness and understanding.

despite your fears of never wanting this feeling to subside or fade or crash and burn in some fiery death, that doesn’t mean that every moment you’re around bucky, you’re not thinking of him kissing you. because you are. and it’s driving you slightly insane.

right now, you sit with bucky in central park. you have learned many things about him, but one of the more recent things is that he has never been on a picnic. you had gaped at him then, and you think you said something along the lines of-- “you were wooing women in the 40s and never took one on a fucking picnic?”

that’s another thing about you and bucky.

you may fear a lot, but you do not fear him.

there has never been a moment where you have pushed bucky to tell you more than he was comfortable with. at the start, once he knew that you were already well aware of who he was and some pieces of his history-- it felt like you both started with a mutual understanding. an understanding that says, i know, and it won’t make me run.

but he has told you what he wants to, in bits and pieces. the first time, it was about yori. it was about the look in yori’s eyes when he talked about his son to bucky, it was about how bucky doesn’t know how he can make amends here, how he can say or do anything to possibly help a man who has lost his son at the hands of a man who he has come to call friend.

you have watched as guilt and anger have made a mess of this beautiful man.

and what did you do in return?

sometimes, you didn’t speak. you didn’t think that was what bucky was looking for. you were simply there, with a listening ear and a careful touch.

other times, you did. other times, you couldn’t help yourself.

it was hard to sit and watch and listen to bucky torture himself over and over and over-- you would burst, you would take his metal hand in between yours and you would squeeze and you would say-- “you are not the things that they forced upon you.”

and bucky halted at that. bucky halted and he stared at you, eyes that were moments ago frantic and full of fright, trying to blink some of those feelings away. he would blink and he would try to slow his breathing and he would finally say to you, “how can you know what i’ve done and not walk away?”

“bucky, ever since i’ve known you, the only direction i’ve wanted to walk is towards you.”

he tells you the hard things.

but he also tells you the good things. the things before hydra.

like the dates he went on, the way his life looked in the forties.

so, naturally, when you found out about the lack of picnics in the life of the winter soldier-- you had taken it upon yourself to decide that a picnic was exactly what you two needed.

it was four months ago that bucky asked if you needed help building your cat tower. later, you would call him a creep for spying on you, but you would say it with a smile on your face and a light nudge to his ribs. and in four months it has been hard to stay away from him. that is, when he wasn’t away himself-- you know of his work with the falcon, and really, you think it’s a good thing. you met sam briefly a week ago, after they returned from god knows where, and sam had been nothing but a gentleman. out of the corner of your eye, you even think that you might’ve seen sam nudging bucky and murmuring something that you couldn’t quite make out.

so when he is here, you try and savor every moment, every laugh, every brush of his fingers against yours and every sweet look you two share.

and you hope that maybe one of these times, he will kiss you.

“damn-- this is good.”

the corner of your mouth turns up as you watch bucky sip on the sickly sweet wine you brought. there is a wide assortment of food before you-- strawberries and brie, crackers and cheese, plump purple grapes and chocolate that makes your mouth water. you had made sure to go all out for bucky’s first picnic.

“i didn’t know if you would like it,” you say, taking a sip from your own. “it’s like juice. so sweet.”

bucky furrows his brows. “you know i have a sweet tooth,” he mumbles and it makes your heart sigh because, yes, you do know this. you know him.

for a moment, you turn your focus on the scene in front of you. there are kids running around the park playing, couples laying in the grass, a dog owner throwing a frisbee to a black lab. everyone with their own little lives, their own quiet eternities that you will never know of. when you look at bucky, you wonder what these strangers wonder about you.

you stare and you are not embarrassed to do so, not even when bucky meets your gaze with a firm smirk. “can i help you?”

“no,” you shake your head defiantly. “just looking. is that allowed?”

“i guess,” he says and leans back on the palm of his gloved hand. “don’t know i’m much to look at.”

a snort leaves you. his brows furrow. “are you serious?” you finally ask.

“yes, i’m serious.”

“bucky, i don’t know how else to tell you this, but you are certainly not hard on the eyes.”

you watch as his face goes red and you have to halt yourself. “oh my god,” you say. “you’re blushing.”

“i am not. that’s ridiculous.”

“yes, you totally are! you’re blushing because i said you’re easy on the eyes!”

“it’s a natural bodily response.”

“sure, buck.”

there’s a beat of silence and you chuckle, if only to fill the air and to avert your eyes from his gaze. he’s staring at you with a slightly slacked jaw and a gleam in his eyes that you don’t think you’ve seen before-- and it feels like a bucket of ice water has been dumped atop your head. “you’ve never called me that before,” he says quietly.

“oh, yeah, well--” you chuckle again and you shrug. “i don’t have to--”

bucky shakes his head instantly. “no. i don’t mind.”

you smile at him and you look down at your empty cup and back up to him. “we should start heading back.”

the two of you make quick work of gathering together your picnic. you laugh as bucky takes a swig from the bottle and you swat at him, saying public intoxication is very illegal, to which he rolls his eyes. you take the last sip of the bottle and then you’re on your way back to your apartment building.

the earth is on the cusp of spring-- where the nights are finally starting to get long and the air smells crisp, smells like pollen and change. you lean against bucky as you walk and you let out a sigh. “i love spring,” you murmur to him. “the world always feels so new.”

bucky looks over at you and he nods his head. “it’s nice,” he says in quiet agreement.

that’s one thing that you like about bucky-- he doesn’t fill silence unnecessarily. you do. you’ve been trying to break the habit in the months you’ve known him, much to his amusement. he has called you out plenty of times. “i can tell you’re itching to talk. i don’t mind. i like listening to you.”

he’s carrying the majority of your things and you offer to take something off his hands at least three times in five blocks, and every time he screws his face up as he looks at you, as if to say-- funny.

he’s good at saying things without really saying anything at all. you don’t like to think too hard about how he picked up that skill.

bucky helps you into your apartment with your things, and he goes a step further and he helps you put away leftovers and wash the dirty dishes you two had created. “i know if i don’t help you now, they’ll be in your sink until i come over again.”

so you stand side by side, he washes and you dry and put away. you play the bee gees and you’re surprised by how much bucky enjoys it. you’ve been traveling through decades of music with bucky, and now, you’re on seventies. bee gees, fleetwood mac, blondie, abba-- you’ve curated a perfect playlist for him. when you come home from work and hear him listening to it through the thin walls of this old apartment building, you try to ignore the way that your heart swells.

and just as fast as you got swept up in your day with james buchanan barnes, it is coming to an end. you walk him to your doorstep and you lean your head against the doorframe as he stands in it, lingering still, staring at you. “can i help you?” you mimic him from earlier.

bucky laughs.

you love that laugh. you want to earn it again and again and again.

“just looking,” he says in a voice that you have a suspicion is an impression of yours. your jaw drops, and he laughs again, and you don’t know if your heart could swell anymore.

your laughter mingles with his, like a waltz floating through the air until it dissipates above your heads. all that’s left is you and him and the dim light of the hallway and the god awful carpet. “well…” he motions behind him. “i should…”

“yeah.” you bite down on your lip and push back off the doorframe. “night, buck.”

“night, doll.”

your breath hitches and you put on your best smile and you watch as he begins to step down the hall, and finally, you click your door shut.

it’s like pure energy courses through your body. you place your hands on your hips and you pace, looking down at kitty who has emerged from your bedroom. she meows up at you, and you sigh. “oh, honey,” you murmur as you bend down to scoop her into your arms. “why won’t he kiss me?”

you stand there for a few moments before you begin to grow frustrated with yourself. why do you have to wait for him to kiss you? you know that the lines have been blurred long ago, that there is simply no way that he can look at you like that and not want to kiss you too. setting kitty down, you wipe your hands on your jeans and you decide that you are going to be bold, you are going to be brave. and if it blows up in your face… well, you’ve always been somewhat impulsive. you’ve found your way through things blowing up in your face countless times.

you swing your door open and bucky is already there.

with all of your momentum, you almost collide into him. he catches you by the elbows and looks at you, pupils slightly blown, concern on his pretty face. “were you going somewhere?”

“no!” you stammer out immediately. “no… no. i was--” you sigh and you lick your lips and you finally fix your eyes on him. “i kind of-- i kind of thought that you were going to kiss me, back there. and i was disappointed that you didn’t because… well, i don’t think i’m reading into things, but i really think that we might be on the same page about--”

bucky will never know how you were going to finish that sentence, and frankly, with all the frantic nonsense you were spewing, you don’t know if you even knew to begin with-- because he takes your face in his hands and his lips brush yours.

he’s rid the gloves. that’s the first thing you notice, that delicious cold of smooth metal again your cheek. the next is that his lips are so soft. the third is that you could kiss him forever and you think you could never grow tired of it. he is gentle yet demanding, passionate but so incredibly tender that it breaks your heart. it breaks your heart over and over again thinking about the way he thinks about himself, the things that were forced upon him.

you part. a string of spit connects your lips and it makes you laugh and it makes your cheeks grow warm. bucky reaches out with the hand made of metal and wipes your bottom lip and it makes your heart thump, thump, thump in your chest.

“we’re definitely on the same page,” is all he says before he takes your face once more. this time, you shuffle backwards and into your apartment, the door clicking shut. "there's just a dance to these things, doll."

[asweetprologue]

Nili’s Benchmark Geraskier Fic Rec List

hey yall! I officially hit 750 followers (a few days ago, I blew past the benchmark without even realizing!), which is... insane. I truly can’t believe that so many people over the last year have enjoyed my presence in this fandom enough to continue to follow my work. you guys are so great and I love you all so much, so I decided to put together a gift for you!

this is a list of my favorite geraskier fics from the fandom, which I have been putting together over the last year or so. a few of these are big in the fandom, but a lot of them are smaller pieces that I feel deserve more attention! I have provided ao3 and tumblr links where I could find them, as well as ratings and summaries. Most of these are canon!verse because I’m not personally a big fan of modern au’s, but there will be a few of those scattered throughout as well. I’ve divided the fics into two sections: oneshots and multichapter. See the list below the cut!

Being in this fandom truly has gotten me through the pandemic in a big way and I have made so many good friends while here. thank you all for validating my weird obsession with these characters and enabling me in these trying times <3

Oneshots

all that was good, all that was fair (all that was me is gone) | M | 7517 | WARNING: Graphic Depictions Of Violence | @xdandelionxbloomx

Somewhere, deep in a forest, a man drags himself from his grave by sheer power of will. He lies gasping on the forest floor and does not know who or what he is. The world is wide and wonderful, though, and there is so much to see.

Or, Jaskier is so stubborn that he literally comes back from the dead.

Another fascinating addition to the mythology of the Witcher. Jaskier’s slow rediscovery of himself is so well done here. One I’ve come back to again and again. 

As Fast As Love Can Go | T | 9628 | @bygodstillam

There are Faeries in the Wood.

That's what everyone said, at least, not that there was any solid proof. Jaskier had tried, more than once, to find some. Just a hint somewhere, of a real story, of real magic. But all anyone seemed to have was stories.

Jaskier was determined to find proof. He wasn't expecting to find a witcher in the process.

Fascinating fic with some really interesting worldbuilding, and a fresh new take on True Love’s Kiss. Also with some great art by @hehearse!

beautiful, he stirs up still things | T | 2575 | @alittlebitmaybe

“You’re not asking me to dance,” says Geralt.

Jaskier turns his palm up on his knee, offering it. “I think you’ll find I am.”

Just them dancing. This is a lovely sort of pre-relationship dynamic. So soft.

Dialogue Prompt | NR | 2932 | @reinvent-and-believe

Dialogue Prompt 48: “You make me want things I can’t have.” Wordless I-love-you 50: buying them a special treat when you go out shopping

Geralt gets Jaskier a gift, which prompts some confessions.

Even a small love | E | 22,272 | WARNING: Rape/Non-Con 

“Well,” Jaskier replies distractedly. “Lots of things want to strangle you.”

“You don’t.”

It isn’t a particularly troublesome accusation, or even necessarily an accusation at all.

This is one I read early on in the fandom, and it really stuck with me. The dynamic between Jaskier and Geralt is perfect, and the misunderstandings between them feel so realistic. The non-con is not extreme, but do mind the warnings. 

For the Space of a Heartbeat | T | 2021 | @drowningbydegrees

As it turns out, falling into bed with your very best friend who you are privately very much in love with isn't nearly so nerve wracking as waking up with them the morning after.

Just sweet, morning after discussions. I love to see them talking for once.

Greensleeves | T | 10,414 | @rebrandedbard

When Geralt crosses paths with Jaskier in the spring, the world is dressed in green. Quite literally. Everyone everywhere is wearing green, and it all comes down to a song Jaskier has written that, to his mortification, has become popular throughout the Continent. It's torment, being forced to preform the song over and over again and have his heart broken anew. But who is this Lady Greensleeves the people say Jaskier is so maddeningly, heartbrokenly in love with? At the baron's wedding party, Geralt is determined to find out.

This is one of my personal faves - there’s just something about Jaskier’s feelings being put on blast while Geralt remains totally oblivious that I think is so very them. And the resolution at the end is delightful.

I Don’t Wanna Fall (If It’s Not In Love) | E | 13,902 | @writinglizards

The first time it's out of desperation. Things get rapidly out of hand from there.

OR the building of a relationship through mutual wank sessions.

I love everything Ashley writes, but this one was the first fic I read by her and it still has a warm place in my heart. I also highly recommend It’s Been A While (makes me cry every time) and Tell Me Honestly

Like a Storm, Like a Flood | T | 1065 | @valdomarx

Jaskier is leaving for the winter, and Geralt can't bear the thought of not seeing him for months.

It was soooo hard to pick only one fic by George, but this one is so soft and sweet and yearning I just had to go with it. This is really just about Geralt finally hitting a breaking point and saying enough is enough.

one flesh | E | 10,763 | WARNING: MCD 

“Well, then. I’m a ghost.” Jaskier spread his arms grandly. Geralt held his gaze for a moment, then dropped his head and laughed. Jaskier put his hands on his hips. “Do fill me in on what’s so funny.” It wasn’t funny. It was just so - ridiculous, the things Geralt’s fucked up brain would invent. This had to be the last nail in the sanity coffin, it just had to be.

Or: Jaskier is a ghost, and Geralt is a mess.

Jaskier dies and comes back as a ghost to haunt Geralt into taking care of himself. Geralt does not handle this gracefully. This fic is so sad and heartbreaking, but the ending is so sweet.

to render it transparent | E | 23,901

Geralt wakes up warm, peaceful, and utterly content, which is how he knows that something is severely wrong.

Sigh. This fic. This is a time travel fic - Geralt ends up in the future living with Jaskier on the coast, just after the mountain. It’s slow and beautiful and extremely bittersweet, all about how we choose to love people despite how much it can hurt us.

With All the Continent A Stage | M | 4745 | @greyduckgreygoose

Later, Geralt learned that the play was four hours long. Four hours long. It didn’t feel like it. Most of it passed by in a fever dream of ominous music, dance-fighting and dryads in gossamer leaves, swinging from hoops attached to the ceiling. Yennefer made an appearance, played by Priscilla in a glittering negligee. She sang a song to Geralt about putting him “Under Her Spell”, and they had a sensual dance number which was made a little strange by a sickened Jaskier (played by Jaskier) coughing loudly in the background.

(Jaskier invites Geralt to a musical production inspired by his own life.)

Jaskier basically writes Geralt a love letter in the form of a four hour long play. Geralt is an idiot about it.

Multi-Chapter Fics

A Lover’s Lament | M | 25,364 | @somedrunkpirate

So,” Jaskier begins, as casually as he can, “you are telling me, that in theory, if I were to be in love with someone — anyone — that person could well be in terrible danger?”

Of all terrible and ridiculous things that have threatened Geralt’s safety, Jaskier’d never thought that loving him might be what will get him killed.

I honestly can’t count the number of times I’ve read this fic. The monster is so interesting, and the mythos of it fits seamlessly into the world of the Witcher in my mind. Jaskier being so afraid that his feelings are going to put Geralt at risk, clearly unable to see that Geralt is going through the exact same thing. I think about the scene with them looking at each other almost daily. 

A Pair of Gloves, the Scent of Roses | M | 24,134 | WARNING: Graphic Depictions of Violence

In the bustling days before the Midsummer festival, Geralt is sent into the countryside to deal with a monster - with Jaskier once again by his side. But the bard has not forgiven him, and while he's not hiding his contempt for the Witcher, he is recalcitrant about revealing his true motives for joining him. As the hunt turns into a desperate mission to save an innocent man and the monster is not what is seems to be, Geralt learns a few new things about his old friend and decides to finally attempt to mend the rift between them...

This is one of my favorite’s in the fandom - it feels so believable, the world is so rich and the oc’s are convincing and charming. Geralt and Jaskier feel so honest here, stumbling around each other but still drawn together. Beautiful beautiful beautiful

Bearing the will of the flower | NR | 11,449 

The way Jaskier sees it, his hobby of following a witcher around was always pretty likely to get him killed.

The fact that it's happening now because the witcher in question doesn't love him, he thinks as he coughs up crumpled flowers, hardly makes a difference.

My favorite hanahaki fic in the fandom. I’m such a sucker for these, and these two idiots being so incapable of talking about their feelings really makes them prime candidates. 

Food of Love | T | 22,488 | @wallatile-qvibbler

I brought a dead princess back to life through the power of song is the kind of thing that would have got an eyebrow raise even from the stone-faced Geralt of Rivia, so it's a good thing he and Geralt will probably never see each other again.

(or: the one where Jaskier channels magic through his songs, and it almost never goes as expected.)

This is a Jaskier and Renfri centric fic, which wasn’t something I knew I wanted until I read this. Jaskier is a bard which in this AU comes with magical powers, but it feels so well integrated into the universe that I wish it was just... how the Witcher is. Renfri is so good here, and even though Jaskier and Geralt barely even interact you can feel the tension and love between them. Cannot recommend highly enough.

friends and allies of the witcher | T | 10,312 | @theamazingbard

Yennefer crawls over to her newest cellmate. They’re curled up on their side. Breathing, but only just. She’s not sure what she’s hoping for when she turns them over. Still isn’t when she sees that it is indeed Jaskier.

“Shit."

Yennefer and Jaskier each suffer in more ways than one at the hands of Nilfgaard.

Yennefer and Jaskier get capture by Nilfgaard and tossed into a cell together. Exactly what I want out of season 2 honestly. Their interactions are gold.

I’d Be the Choiceless Hope | E | 45,188 | WARNING: Rape/Non-Con | @lesdemonium

As a baby, Jaskier was visited by a fae, who gifted Jaskier's mother with Jaskier's obedience. As Jaskier grew older, the "gift" became more of a curse.

You know I’m not gonna make a rec list without listing Zoe’s Ella Enchanted au. Need I say more?

Silver and Copper | M | 56,139 | WARNING: Graphic Depictions of Violence | @kaer-cuan

Geralt is just supposed to pass through the quiet Lettenhove area. He's not anticipating being begged by its people to help save their viscount from a curse that keeps him from daylight. Lord Jaskier, they call him, and he's likely dying.

As Geralt struggles to untangle the ugly web of history that has lead to the increasingly complicated curse, he finds himself spending more and more time with the strange young viscount and wondering just what he might have been before the curse, and who he might be after. But things are not always as they seem, and as the curse tightens its grip on Jaskier, Geralt is forced to face the fear of failing yet another person whose choices were stolen from them.

Or-

Jaskier is kept from becoming a bard. Geralt finds him anyway.

This is a fic that haunts me. It’s very scary in parts, and mind the tags - there are some very heavy themes here. But it’s beautiful and touching, and Jaskier feels very true to himself even though his origin is so different.

we could be married (and then we'd be happy) | E | 50,222 | @a-kind-of-merry-war

Jaskier reached into his pocket, fingers grasping around the little box. He pulled it out with what he hoped was a romantic flourish, flipping it open to reveal the simple gold band inside. “Geralt,” he said, confidently, cooly, like this wasn’t terrifying, “Will you marry me?”

Geralt and Jaskier fake marriage proposals to get free deserts and shit but it goes tits up when Vesemir catches them in the act. Not knowing how to fess up, they go along with it for a while, which is hell because they’re both pining like mad. As I said, I don’t love modern au’s, but it’s merry so of course this one had to end up on my list.

~

And that’s it! 20 fics for you, and hopefully you can all find one or two you haven’t read before. There are a lot of people and fics that I didn’t include in this list only because I was trying to not put a million down (which I could). I highly recommend anything by @wherethewordsare, @julek, @contemplativepancakes, @witcher-and-his-bard, and @inber, as well as those linked to fics above, and I’m sure there are others I forgot to mention. Yall have truly made being in this fandom worthwhile <3

[errorpeachy]

☾ Will He? ☽ 《Bakugo and Izuku X Reader》

Song: Will he - Joji

Angst?... Angst.

TW: Mentions of cheating.

Things had been difficult.

You stared at the boxes that littered your room floor, absentmindedly fiddling with the promise ring you wore on your left ring finger. You could probably sell it- it looked like it was worth a lot. It didn’t mean much to you now anyways. Sighing, you flopped back onto your unmade bed, goosebumps rising as you felt cold air waft through the AC vents in the ceiling.

It had been a long night. You moved everything out of what was once you and Bakugo’s apartment, purposely doing so while he was on patrol. It hurt a lot- you had been together with the blonde for a total of 5 years, living with him for three. In all honesty, you thought that you two were bound to get married at some point, as did all of your friends. You seemed to be the only one who could compliment his temper, even though it had calmed down throughout the years. Apparently, you were wrong.

It had gone on for two months. For two months, you excused his behavior. You excused his late night visits to the bar, thinking it was just hero work getting to him. When he came home late, you excused that too. You wrote off his immediate showers as him just being smelly from work. And when you walked over to hug him and he pushed you away, you let it go. You refused to think about why he smelled like perfume that wasn’t yours, and remained willfully ignorant. Of course, you knew deep down something was wrong. He no longer gave you the soft smiles he used to when you got excited over something. He held you when you slept, but you didn’t hear a word from him in the morning. No good mornings, no kisses, not even a grumble about how you’re too hot and you need to get off of him, nothing. The concern was eating you from the inside out, and you needed to know what was wrong.

And soon, you did.

“Hello! Thank you for calling Ground Zero’s hero agency, how may I help you?”

“Hello, it’s me.” You muttered softly, tapping your fingers against the granite counter of your kitchen. “Oh! Y/N! how are you?” The receptionist said cheerfully. You sighed, pushing your hair out of your face. “Not well. Listen, don’t go telling Katsuki I called, but I need to know something. Was he supposed to be off yesterday?” You asked, hand gripping the phone tightly. She paused for a second, and you could hear the clicking of her keyboard as she looked up his work schedule.

“Yes, it shows that he was off yesterday and never clocked in.”

You bit your lip, drawing blood on accident. “He wasn’t home yesterday until late.” You said quietly. She paused, before letting out a sigh. “Listen, I know it’s not right for me to keep this from you, but if you tell Mr. Bakugo that I gave you this information, I’ll get fired. So listen, he recently took on this new pro-hero that just debuted. Her name is Akemi. That is all I can tell you.” She said, before hanging up. You stood up straight before dialing the one person you knew could help.

“Hey, Izuku?”

Staring at his drink, Izuku remained concentrated before sighing. “Well, I don’t want to worry you, but those all sound like signs of cheating.” He said, causing you to choke on your food. When you had called Izuku and asked him to meet up at your favorite restaurant for lunch and some helpful advice, this wasn’t exactly what you expected.

“Cheat? Katsuki? Never.” You said, purposely avoiding the look Izuku gave you as you stuffed your mouth with more food. He sighed, running a hand through his green locks. “Look, I’ve known Kacchan for a very long time. I don’t ever think he’d cheat on you- at least, I don’t want to think about it. He was very focused on his hero career and becoming number one in high school, so the fact he managed to find space in his heart was a shock in and of itself. However-“ he stated, holding up a finger, “Kacchan is a very fast-paced, goal driven person, and because of the stuff that made him who he was growing up, I also know he’s very destructive when it comes to relationships. I mean, he bullied me throughout my life and even told you that you had to keep up with him if you wanted to be with him.” He said, taking a sip of his drink. You looked down at your hands, before sighing. “I know- but I just don’t understand why he’d do that. I mean, he’s too focused on his work, you know?” You said. Izuku shrugged. “Maybe he feels dissatisfied. It’s nothing to do with you, but maybe he feels like something’s missing and is trying to use other people to fill that gap.” He said. You leaned back, looking at him. “Well, then what do I do?” You asked

Izuku smiled. “I’m glad you asked, cause I wrote it down.”

The plan was simple. You were to go to the bar Bakugo visited and wait. If this Akemi girl showed up and they did anything, you were supposed to snap a picture and go home. When Izuku first suggested it, you looked at him like he was insane.

“So I’m supposed to stalk him like a crazy person?!” You shouted, watching as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, yeah.” He said, before yelping as you snatched his journal from him and hit him over the head.

“OW! Hey- cut that out!” He said, grabbing it from you, “I’m being serious! If you go, you’ll get the evidence you need. And if he doesn’t do anything, then you’ll be at ease.” He said, rubbing his head. You paused to think, sitting back in your chair. “Fine. I’ll do it.” You said, watching as Izuku gave you a determined smile.

That was how you ended up in this mess. You sat at a table far off in a corner, watching as Bakugo checked his watch. He’d been sitting alone for about thirty minutes now. Starting to relax, you got on social media before hearing the door to the bar open. You looked up, and felt goosebumps on your skin as you watched the person walk in.

The person in question was Akemi, who had walked over and sat down next to Bakugo. Your boyfriend. You watched as they started to talk, hands balling up into fists as you watched her giggle and touch his arm. “This bitch.” You muttered, feeling anger and sadness bubble up in your chest. What gave him the idea that it was okay to do this? You were never one to get upset about your significant others having certain friends, but this was just absurd. You watched them flirt and steal glances, becoming more and more upset. What was wrong with him? Why was he doing this?

Then they kissed.

You swore you could hear your heart shatter as their lips molded together. You felt tears hit your clothes as you started to cry. Snapping a picture, you quickly paid and got out of there as soon as possible. You didn’t want to see anymore.

You hastily made your way to your car, wiping your face as you dialed Izuku’s number. “Y/N?” “You were right, Izu. He’s cheating on me.” You said, sniffling as you got in and drove home. You could hear him move to grab his journal. “Okay, you can come stay with me until you find a new apartment. For now, go home and pack a bag. Wait there and confront him, then leave. When he’s on patrol I’ll have Mina and the others help you move out.” He said, writing things down. You nodded quietly, trying to swallow the knot in your throat as you walked into your apartment and began to pack your bags.

It was 2:45 AM when Bakugo got home. You had cried everything out at this point, and your eyes were now fixated on the TV. You tensed up as he walked in.

“Where were you.” You asked coldly, eyes not leaving the tv. He didn’t spare you a glance. “I was with Kirishima and the others.” He lied. You grit your teeth together. “You’re lying. I called Denki not long ago.” You said. It was true. You had called the whole bakusquad begging them to help you move, because you wouldn’t be able to do it by yourself before he got home from work tomorrow.

“He wasn’t there.” He said, setting his bag down. “Why are you so pissy? Did I do something?” He asked, finally looking at you. You inhaled, grabbing your phone.

“Who’s Akemi.”

He paused, watching as you turned to wait for his answer. Instantly, he got defensive. “She’s a coworker. I go to the bar with her sometimes after work.” He said. You nodded, before standing up. “Do you kiss her sometimes too?” You asked, causing him to glare at you. “What the fuck? No, I don’t.” He sneered, crossing his arms. “Do you think I’m cheating or something?” “I don’t think, I know you are Katsuki.” You muttered, pulling up the picture and showing him. He immediately reached for your phone. “Where the hell did you get that?!” He asked, trying to grab it out of your hands. You wrestled with him before tossing it out of reach. “Why does it matter? You’re fucking cheating on me Katsuki!” You shouted back at him. He shook his head. “She kissed me. I didn’t fucking like it Y/N, I pushed her off.” He said, causing you to get angrier. “You’re a fucking liar! I watched you kiss her back Katsuki!” You said. He growled. “You stalked me like a psychopath?!” “Yeah, and apparently I had to because you can’t even stay faithful!” You yelled, before grabbing your phone and making your way to your bags.

Bakugo followed you, watching as you slung them over your shoulders and grabbed your keys. “What the hell are you doing?” He asked. You turned to look at him.

“I’m leaving, Katsuki. Don’t bother contacting me.”

You arrived at Izuku’s door with tear stains on your face and bags full of your clothes. He rushed you inside, taking your bags as he sat you on the couch. “I ordered takeout. I got your favorite.” He said, handing you the box and breaking your chopsticks for you. You thanked him quietly before blinking.

“You remember my favorite takeout?” “Yeah! I thought you’d like it after what happened. I got ice cream too.” He said, blushing a little. You smiled softly. “I... thank you Izuku.” You muttered before turning on the TV and opening your box. He nodded, taking your bags to his spare bedroom. You sniffled, hearing your phone start to ring. Groaning, you set your food aside and grabbed it.

Boom boy💞

-where are you

You scoffed. Ironic of him to ask.

-None of your concern. Stop texting me.

-Y/N I’m sorry, please just come home and talk to me.

-No. I’ll be blocking you now.

You blocked all his social media accounts and his number before setting your phone aside, going back to eating your food. After a while, Izuku emerged holding two spoons and a pint of ice cream.

“Hey, are you alright?”

“Do I look alright? Hand me the ice cream.” You said, causing him to laugh and give you a spoon, popping the top open. You dug in, confiding in him as you ate the frozen treat.

“I just can’t believe he’d do something like this! Five years down the drain...” you muttered, sighing as you grabbed his remote. He nodded quietly, patting your head. “I know, I’m disappointed in him... but you’ll be alright. It sucks right now, but somebody will treat you better one day.” He said, smiling gently at you. Feeling your face heat up, you looked away. What was wrong with you?

“Hey Izu? I’m gonna go to bed.” You said, standing up abruptly and putting the spoon in the sink. He blinked before nodding. “Alright. Goodni-“ “Yeah, Goodnight!” You rushed, shutting the door to the guest bedroom and slumping down onto the floor.

What the hell are you gonna do now?

[fabricated-misslieness]

Peter Parker x gender neutral hero reader

Had the idea out of nowhere, thought it’d be fun

Reader has the ability to resurrect, but have they told anybody? Guess what, no. This technically means that they’d be invulnerable to eternal death by old age, except they’d live dying from old age over and over until the end of time.

Requested: No

Word Count: 1842

Warnings: Major character death, swearing, angst to fluff, sad Peter, promise rings, car crash, atheist Peter and atheist reader, swearing

He thought the 5 stages of grief were false, just a meme to laugh at on the internet. Boy, was he wrong. It was real, all too real.

You'd proven him wrong.

He wished all the ceremonies would be done.

They were overwhelming. He barely had any time to grief before all the events had begun. As a result, he had to bottle up all his feelings. All those speeches he gave in frustration, all those fake smiles he had to give, and all those condolences he had to receive, he wanted it all to be over. When he had the time and everything was over, he finally realized that you were truly gone.

He wished he could have warned you sooner.

“Look out!” His spider-sense had told him before he could warn you. Those were his last words to you. All the pleading, shouting, sobbing.. that’d been done when you were long gone. It was his fault and he would never stop blaming himself for it.

He wished that by some miracle, you’d be with him again.

You didn’t have powers like him, you didn’t have powers, tenacity or years of training like most of the Avengers. You were just you, a teen without a family, with bare strength, flexibility, and the biggest heart he knew. Perhaps in another timeline, you’d never become a hero. You’d just be his lover, supportive and loving and caring and all that. He would do anything, kill, betray, massacre, if it meant having you back. Maybe it was selfish, maybe it was irrational, but he wanted you to be here, with him. 

He wished you’d never left him.

But Peter can’t control life and death, the same way he couldn’t control your actions. You were gone. Nobody could change that and nobody would. He should stop visiting that sapling.. or maybe he should go more frequently. It made him cry more but… maybe that was the way to let you go.

He wished to live forever.

To visit that tree every single day until he died, to see it grow the size of a Coast Redwood, because he knew you were strong enough for that. To live for you, to continue going for you. You’d want that. You’d wanted kids, you’d wanted marriage, you wanted to die of old age with him, you wanted to do so much with him. If he couldn’t do most of those things, at least he could do one. At least he could live like you wanted him to.

Ned, Tony, the Avengers, they were like family to him. They, along with aunt May, had helped Peter come to terms with you. They'd been with him through and through, just like you had once.

Which is why he started all over again when he saw you.

“Hey Peter.” Soft-spoken words in the same gentle voice he’d learned to love. Yet, why was he hearing this again? For a second, he contemplated this, thinking about all the possibilities. This could be a new person with the same voice, he could be hallucinating, which makes ‘I can still hear their voice’ true; this could be some sort of recording… this could be you.

He whips around, almost too fast, to see you, in the flesh. This couldn’t be. You’d died, for god’s sake, you’d died! He saw your lifeless corpse. He was there at your funeral, he looked into your casket at the reception, you were there. So why the fuck are you here now?

“Who-” Peter chokes back a sob. He can feel the tears prick his eyes; he thought he’d ran out of shit to cry out, yet his body finds a way to defy him. “Who the fuck are you?” He has a right to be confused, and to feel threatened. He’s a teenager with superpowers who’d witnessed his partner’s death, and then suddenly he’s back in front of him as if nothing had happened. For all he knew, this could be a new supervillain with transformation powers. Loki and other mutants proved that anything could be possible.

"I know you're confused, and probably scared, but…" You step forward slowly, arms cautiously reaching out to your love. Peter slaps your hand away, but you understand why.

"No shit!" Peter shouts, backing away from you and towards his web shooters. Whoever you were, supervillain or not, you definitely knew about his powers. He could climb up the wall and get to safety. Though everything in him was fighting against his logic and longing to hear you speak and explain.

"I'm not here to hurt you," You step back, remembering just how shitty that phrase is. It's also a phrase a villain would use, and Peter knows that perfectly well. "I'm sorry about that. I don't mean it like a supervillain." It really felt like that was you, but he couldn't trust you until he was sure. "Peter, I'm your lover. I'm (y/n)."

Peter almost runs into your arms but he fights to stop himself. "How do I know that's you?" He shouts. The thin walls would alert neighbors, but he didn't care.

At one point, he'd begged and pleaded for you to come back. Now you were in front of him, and he hadn't done anything for this to happen; he was sure it wasn't those gods he prayed to, as an atheist.

"You can't." You mutter under your breath, hoping he doesn't catch it. You hadn't thought this through enough. You fiddled with your hands, pacing back and forth. Unbeknownst to you, you were scaring Peter. The pacing had made you look insane. Then, you got a thought. The promise rings you'd gotten each other like the cheesy naive teens you were. They were unique, custom-made, courtesy of Tony, and you were buried with yours. "Peter." 

"I was buried with this. There's no other like it." You hold up your hand, showing him the ring. "Hell, I was buried in these!" You gesture towards yourself.

Tears stream down Peter's face as he scrambles for his ring. He'd left his in his nightstand drawer while he cried all those nights. The engravings had scratched against his skin as he wiped his cheeks. He grabs it out of the mess of the drawer, the sight of it causing the tears to start rolling in bigger, hotter droplets.

"(y/n)!" Peter cried out. The promise ring was enough to prove you were… you. Plus, you looked sincere.

"Sweetheart." You sigh out of relief. Peter rushes over to you, wrapping his arms around you in a concerningly weak hug. He buries his head into your chest. You kiss him his hair multiple times to reassure him. "I love you, I'd never leave you."

"But you did!" Peter sobs, further staining your burial clothes. You didn't particularly like them or anything. Peter knew that, but your family was in charge of it.

"I know I did, I'm sorry." You cup Peter's cheeks and pull him to look up at you. The sight of his face, puffy and teary-eyed, it made you feel bad because you were the cause of it. "How about we sit down and I explain?"

He nods, pulling you over to the bed.

"You need anything? Water or..?" He shakes his head.

You sit on the bed, but Peter pushes you to lay down. He snuggles into your side, still sniffling but doing better. "Well, where do I start?"

You run a hand through Peter's hair as you think. "For starters, I can resurrect."

"What the fuck."

"I know, totally weird. I figured out when I got into a car crash. I was pronounced dead on the hospital bed, but when they came back to move the body, I was suddenly alive again. Nobody had an explanation, since they tried with a defibrillator earlier and it hadn't worked." Peter reaches for your hand. "They called it a miracle, some work of god. It sounded like bullshit so I never believed it. There was never really a second time until now, which proved my ongoing theory."

"That's… rough." He really didn’t have anything to say.

"That's rough, buddy." You quoted, to which Peter laughed.

For a moment, you sit in silence. Neither of you know what to say or even if you shouldn't talk. Maybe you should get up or maybe you should stay. Peter speaks up, ending both of your insecurities.

“So.. you’re alive. Does that mean we’ll get our happy ending? Get married… maybe have kids?” He looks up at you with pleading eyes, even if he knows you agree. You got these promise rings and you’d talked about your happy ending a whole lot. Should you be thinking that far ahead? Whenever you thought about the future, all you saw was Peter as your husband.

“Everything we’ve talked about. Yes.” You sit up a bit, which confuses Peter for a second until you pull him onto your lap and pepper kisses all over his face. It’s something you commonly do when talking about stuff like that.

“I missed this.” Peter mumbled. “But I do have one question, well, maybe a couple.”

“Ask away.”

“You were buried with the ring, so what happened with the grave?” You grimace, which makes Peter giggle in anticipation for the obviously chaotic story you’re about to tell.

“I dunno what happened, but it exploded. When I woke up the casket was broken and the dirt above it was scattered everywhere. Might have messed up other graves, hopefully the dead don’t come after me.” Speaking of which, you rub a little dirt smudge off your ring.

“Did it happen at the hospital, too?”

“No.” You shake your head, gazing off as you think about it. “Maybe it’s my powers looking after me. After all, I wouldn’t love being buried alive.”

Peter winces at the thought. “Right. Wouldn’t your powers mean that you’re immortal?”

“Yeah…” You frown, pressing a kiss on Peter’s nose to reassure the both of you, maybe more for yourself. “I would be, and I’d be very lonely too. Damn, never thought about that.” 

Peter pulls your hand up to his lips to kiss your ring. “Then live for me, just as I did for like a week.”

“A week? It’s been that long?” You scratch your head. “It was a few hours at the hospital. Maybe it’s cause of how brutal that dude beat me.” You shiver, remembering the pain you’d felt right before your death. “Has it made the news?”

“Yea. It’s like a movie now.” Peter laughs. “Fighting crime while the criminals think you’re a ghost. Wait.. wouldn’t that mean you’d have to hide your identity? I’d be alone with school, nobody to defend me from flash? Man, that’d suck.”

“Unfortunately. Although the crime fighting part is fun, the rest would be awful. Well, I could get a new identity. That cool haircut I’ve always wanted, a new cool name like… I don’t know, Remy?”

Peter laughs loudly, “Remy is not a cool name!”

“Hey, don’t hate on the Ratatouille rat.”

[diavolodigitale]

L’appel Du Vide: 00 Despicable Him

It took me a whole goddamn year to finally win the fight I fought against myself and start posting this story. I have 7 complete chapters written already but now cannot seem to find the strength to continue, so I was hoping releasing it into the world would give me a nice boost. Anyway, my friends enjoyed the story so if in reality it turns out to be bad, it’s obviously their fault, not mine ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Rhys is the CEO of Atlas and Jack's AI is back, surprise, surprise! Now Rhys is dismayed, Jack doesn't care much, and the events of Borderlands 3 are just beginning to unravel. Is there any way to fix the plot of this game? Would it be any better if Rhys had to cooperate with Jack this whole time? Well, this is your chance to find out!

Spoiler: yes, dammit, it would. Everything's better with a bit of Handsome Jack in it.

Genres: Fix-It, Developing Relationship, Alternate Canon, POV Third Person, Humor, Drama, Plot-driven (kind of? well, it has plot)

Pairing: Handsome Jack’s AI/Rhys (this is only the 1st chapter so don’t expect much yet)

Characters: Handsome Jack’s AI, Rhys

Rating: M for Mature but not in this chapter lol

Size: around 2500 words (chapter 1/11)

Rhys’s office was great. He liked to sit in his big executive’s chair and dreamily look outside instead of doing the paper work. The view was also great. Well, kind of.

What did not seem so great, however, was the war he had been recently dragged into by the Maliwan corporation. He didn’t like being involuntarily involved into global affairs, especially those that had something to do with fusions or takeovers. The situation his company was in was bothering him at the moment, so he took a deep thoughtful breath and continued staring into the window.

“Hey, kiddo,” said the voice of somebody who definitely could not be in Rhys’s office neither at this given moment nor at any other time. Rhys was almost sure in his sanity so he proceeded to ignore the not-uttered words, although he, for some unknown reason, became visibly shaken.

“He-e-ey,” said the voice with those familiar little notes of annoyance that would let the hearer know that the person speaking clearly didn’t like being ignored.

A half-transparent blue hand waved in front of Rhys’s face, and he totally lost it.

Still somehow managing to remain seated in his chair, Rhys jerked back and rolled right through the blue figure formerly standing behind him.

“Wha…” muttered Rhys, barely able to speak at all, “Jack? What are you… I mean, how… I mean, is that really you?”

“Calm down, Rhysie,” said Jack with the same smug expression on his face – perhaps, the only thing that was unchangeable apart from his self-confidence, principles, self-esteem, disrespect for the others, sly nature, and, well, many, many other things really. “I get it, you’re happy to see me, but gosh, have some self-respect!”

Rhys was still confused, so after a few seconds of silence Jack felt the need to add, “Of course, it’s me”.

“But I thought you’re…”

“Dead? Gone? Dead and gone?” Jack clicked his tongue three times. “I thought, you knew me better, Rhysie. I thought, you’d welcome me with your arms wide open. Are you not happy to see me?”

“I am,” Rhys started nodding zealously and clenched his fists tight, hoping that Jack wouldn’t notice he was shaken. “But I don’t understand. What happened…”

“What happened was a mistake. I was gone for a while, but now I’m here to stay.” Jack leaned towards Rhys’s face and smiled. It was in no way an amiable smile. His glowing eyes reminded those of a vulture watching his prey. He already started to smell fear in the air.

“And where exactly is here?” asked Rhys with the last glimmer of hope fading from his voice. More than anything now he wished for the story not to repeat itself, but it was not like he had a choice or something.

Jack only tapped on Rhys’s temple with his index finger and leaned back. Rhys didn’t feel the touch but the gesture itself made him uncomfortable. He knew what it meant, unfortunately.

Jack jumped onto the table of the CEO of Atlas and crossed his legs and arms, waiting.

Rhys swallowed loudly. This was not great at all. He was sure his head was clear from this phantom and there was nothing to worry about. He was sure he would never again be convinced to go against his nature and pursue the world domination. Or any kind of domination. He was sure, but whenever it came to Jack, he was a defeatist.

“This can’t be true. I don’t believe you came back. I must’ve hit my head or I’m just seeing things…” Rhys’s voice quavered in disbelief when he spoke.

“Now-now, honey, no need to worry so much. You know I don’t like it when you wince, it makes you look older. Seeing me here must make you feel sorry for what you’ve done, but you should know that I don’t hold any grudge. Actually, I’m kida proud of you, you know. It only proves I was right all along,” said Jack roguishly. His manner of speech made his words sound benign, as if he was forgiving sins during the confession. Rhys was still not buying it.

“I did what I had to, what you made me do! If anything, it was YOUR fault, YOU betrayed me, so don’t you try making ME responsible for everything! I don’t know what kind of mind game this is, but I know you can’t be here.”

As Jack opened his mouth to yet again say something pricky, Rhys, still sitting in his chair and tightly gripping its arms, yelled at top of his lungs, “Begone! Begone, foul apparition!”.

The apparition sat on the table, sandbagged and with a dropped jaw, for a few moments and then uttered “Wow. Just wow. I’ve always known you’re weird, but this is just… wow. Are you on drugs or something? I’m not judging, you just seem really… deranged? I wanna say deranged, but I’m not sure it’s the right word.”

Rhys snuffled resentfully and looked at Jack with a brooding expression on his face. “You won’t go?” he asked, not really hoping anymore.

“Nope, kiddo. Everything’s gonna be just like the good old times – me as a hero and you as a… as a… I dunno, a less attractive sidekick?” Rhys quietly sighed, holding his head in his hands. “We’re gonna hang out, kill bandits, save the world, and I will always, always be at your side. I’ll make sure of that.”

“I killed you, Jack. I destroyed you. I ripped you out of my body, tore you apart and threw you away from my memory. Nothing’s gonna be the same anymore, you know that.”

“No, Rhys, I was killed by some OTHER goddamn crappy bags of… ugh, I’m not even gonna bother with that. You and me just had a misunderstanding. Often happens between two forceful promising personalities, like between me and the previous Hyperion CEO. Oh, wait, no,”–Jack scratched his head and furrowed his eyebrows–“no, I killed him, that’s a bad example. Anyway, you know what I mean.”

“I smashed my fucking arm to get rid of you! You,”–Rhys pointed his cybernetic finger at Jack–“are the only one who is insane here if you think that’s nothing. We both know what we did, Jack. Whatever you want, I’m not helping you. The last time I tried, you took control of me and tried to end my life.”

Jack’s expression turned from stolid to menacing as fast as gray clouds cover the sun and it starts raining in summer. He wanted to be good, he really believed that he did.

“Why do you always have to be so stubborn?” he hissed at Rhys. “I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want me to. No matter how much I don’t want to admit it, I’m dependent on you, you little whiny coward, so do me a favor – be a good boy and listen to what daddy has to say. You kept your eye implant, didn’t you? Don’t even try arguing with me, I know you did. It was your decision to leave it be, so it’s you who brought me here. I’m grateful for that and I promise not to be nasty. No taking over bodies and no homicidal tendencies. Well, at least when it comes to you, pumpkin.”

“…Okay,” fumbled Rhys. Even though he didn’t believe this was really the case, he knew disputing with Jack never solved anything anyway. “Although… I didn’t really use the chip afterwards. I don’t know how you’ve found out I had kept it, but I surely wasn’t that stupid so as to put it back into my head after what you had done. I really want to know how you’ve managed to–”

“We all have our secrets, Rhysie. But enough about me, let’s talk about you.” Jack gave Rhys a wink. “How’ve ya been? Must admit, I fell out of the loop and now need an update,” he said petulantly. Now he was idly looking around as if he had lost all interest in what was happening.

Rhys decided to let go of his worries for now. If he couldn’t make Jack talk, his only option was to gain his trust once again and find out how he survived. Or if he did at all. Just be composed, not the worst scenario you’ve ever been in, he said to himself.

“Um, actually, I’m great. This is my office and… We’re doing fantastically if you disregard the fact that we’re at war with Maliwan and currently I am occupied with this new–”

“Yeah-yeah, okay, what was there about a war? I don’t remember Maliwan scum being at least somehow dangerous. How did you even manage to mess this up?”

Rhys stood up from his huge chair, arms akimbo, eyes disdainfully narrowed, and went on with his story, affronted and even a little peevish.

“As I was saying, I’m working on a new plan right now. At this point I’m pretty fed up with Katagawa, this new CEO of Maliwan,”–definitely peevish right now–“Oh, in fact, I just hate him so much!”–now even irate–“The day he murdered all his siblings, he just mobilized his fleet and went straight to my planet! Who in the right mind does that? Could’ve sent a message at least. Anyway,”–Rhys hid his hands into his pockets and sunk back into his chair, having lost all his righteous anger–“he wants our corporations to merge, to fuse, as he says, to become one.” The irritation on Jack’s face was becoming more distinct with every word Rhys said. “He wants me to sign the deal and share my developments with him, can you believe it? That greedy bastard!”

“Proposals like that don’t just come out of nowhere. Seems like he’s been watching you. This Katagawa guy, what does he offer you in return? Money, contacts, tech?”

“Himself, I guess,” said Rhys without any second thought.

“What?” asked Jack contemptuously. He was already close to seeing red. Rhys forgot how it worked with him.

“He said we would become partners, but I think it’s all lies to make it seem pretty. I suspect he will simply take control of Atlas and our new shiny guns, and all my work will be wasted.”

“I see, no one can trick our Rhysie,” said Jack, grinning. “Thank god, at least some good news.”

“That’s right!” said Rhys, perhaps, more enthusiastically than he should have. “No one,” he added more quietly. Except for you, you snake, muttered the inner voice inside his head.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something this whole time. Funny how I really haven’t been here for long, but you know. May I?”

Jack’s incisive manner of speech was absent, so Rhys took his guard down for a moment, getting the feeling that this conversation was like one of those they used to have before – unbraced and at times even innocuous.  

“I know what’s on your mind, Jack,” he said, heartfelt and certain.

“You do?” Jack undoubtfully seemed surprised at his interlocutor’s insight.

“Yes. I’ve noticed how you look at me and I know exactly what you want to ask.” Rhys made himself more comfortable in the chair, crossed his legs and sat straight, in a more business-like manner. “This,”–he made a vague hand gesture around the area of his mouth–“is a siege mustache. Shh, let me finish, you can’t say anything I haven’t heard about it before. My troops love it, and as a good commander, I do what I can to boost morale on the battlefield. Of course, I don’t go out there, but they are happy enough when they see my hologram. A-a-and, now you can talk. I guess. If you want to. By the way, I don’t care if you hate it, it’s my face so–”

“You know what? I love it. Love it. Never thought I would say that, but I am saying it right now, so here you are. The second rule of a successful boss – do what the fuck you wanna do with your face. The first one is murder the previous boss, of course.”

“Really?” gingerly asked Rhys, who, in reality, had never heard anything good about his poor moustache.

“Really. But I must upset you, Rhysie. This is not what was bothering me. You see, there’s this other little thing, pretty close in its significance to your moustache.”

“Oh,” uttered Rhys nonchalantly, “what is it?”

“Hyperion. What’s with it? What’s with MY Hyperion, Rhysie?”

At the sound of that very word Rhys hunched in his chair and felt as if he was reducing in size under Jack’s cold gaze.

“After what had happened… the Helios was destroyed and everything collapsed and…”

Rhys sat silent, not able to go on, and this was the last thing he should’ve done. Jack was not in the mood for such a behavior.

“Look me square in my fucking translucent eyes, Rhys, and tell me – what is with my Hyperion?” yelled Jack.

He still sat on the table quite far from Rhys, but it seemed like the room suddenly shrunk and he was right in front of him. Jack was a ghost, a phantom, not able to do anything, not able to inflict any damage or even touch him, but Rhys sensed the danger. No matter in what form, Handsome Jack was still Handsome Jack.

“I don’t know. I guess, somebody took control of it after I left. The weapons are still being manufactured, but I didn’t bother to find out who was the next in line after Helios was… after I destroyed Helios.”

Rhys exhaled loudly and averted his eyes from Jack. Oh, yes, making Jack angry is much easier than making him proud, how could I forget, he thought.

“I see. I didn’t doubt for a second you would do that to infuriate me. Believe it or not, this is the first time I’d rather be disappointed. But you know what? It doesn’t matter now. Now we’re bonding,” Jack sucked the air through his teeth, “now we’re rebuilding what was destroyed like a family we are. Isn’t that great? Look at us, two best buddies exchanging the latest news.”

“And you promised not to be nasty this time...?” Rhys made a feeble attempt to save himself and remind Jack about the terms under which he was allowed to accompany him.

“Yes, Rhysie, and you know damn well I keep my promises.”

And he did. But only when he promised to kill somebody.

[thewebcomicsreview]

Seeing as I don’t have a job right now (one week furlough), I managed to get a lot of writing for Saffron and Sage done today. Now I feel good! Time to ruin that with a Homestuck 2 Liveblog! Last time: Jade kidnapped “Yiffy”, much to Jane’s distress! No time for that, though, as we’re back with the Candyland Kids. 

HARRY: vrissy, i know this is a stressful predicament but i think that's going too far. HARRY: my dad believes in us. HARRY: and if he thinks there's something we can do, then there has to be a way!

Kind of interesting that Harry holds his dad’s opinion in such high esteem, considering that his dad has been AWOL pretty much his whole life.

TAVROS: Uncle john isn't to blame for this,,, HARRY: yeah, no shit tav. HARRY: this whole situation is because of YOUR insane hitlermom.

How the hell does Harry Anderson know who Hitler is? When did that conversation come up? This is a completely different universe! 

TAVROS: Is less sincere,,, than it is,,, an attempt to weaponize something difficult for me, TAVROS: In order that you can win an argument,,, with harry anderson,,,,, VRISKA: GRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! VRISKA: WILL YOU ALL JUST VRISKA: SHUT!!!!!!!! VRISKA: UP!!!!!!!!

A good example of why characters like John, Jade, Vriska, and sometimes Karkat are important in Homestuck or in stories generally. They actually do shit. 

VRISKA: Neither you nor your friends have anything really important going on. VRISKA: Your lives and your planet are a total 8ore! VRISKA: 8ut somehow John loves you anyway. VRISKA: Try and be fucking gr8ful for that every once in a while. VRISKA: Not everyone is so lucky.

Vriska please do not be pining for middle-aged John Egbert. You have literally half a dozen semi-official love interests (John, Terezi, Eridan, Tavros, Meenah and Kanaya), please don’t pick the one old enough to be your dad. It was already weird enough when Adult John got hot and bothered by teen Roxy in the epilogues, to say nothing of you fucking a middle-aged homeless clown in a bush.  

thespiansGlamor [TG] began pestering adamantGriftress [AG]

Oh, fuck you, Homestuck. It’s bad enough that Harry and Dave are both going to be referred to as “TG” in chatlogs, but now Vrissy and Vriska are both AG and have the same font color! 

TG: i've allocated the strife specibus with the scissorkind abstratus? TG: hm. TG: using this weird vocab and stuff feels... well, weird. TG: i'm not sure why, but it seems as though everything that's about to happen is that much more important now. TG: or maybe it already was, but i just didn't understand just how important until this moment.

One issue with wearing your metaphor on your sleeve as much as Homestuck 2 does is that thematically important lines become really obvious. 

I like how the triangle-shaped panel around Vriska escaping the crowd by simply walking into it is reminiscent of a magic 8-ball. That’s clever! 

VRISKA: Your society... no, your whole planet... it deserves to 8urn str8 to MEGAhell, and I'm gonna 8e the one to fly it there! VRISKA: I'm gonna shatter your paradise into pieces with my 8are hands and SHIT IN ITS GRAVE!!!!!!!! VRISKA: HOW'S THAT FOR A FUCKING ST8MENT! VRISKA: YOU GOT ALL THAT, JANE CROCKER? VRISKA: DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT'S COMING FOR YOU???????? VRISKA: YOU'VE MESSED WITH VRISKA: ********VRISKA******** VRISKA: ****FUUUUUUUUCKING**** VRISKA: ********SERK8T********

There’s some extreme Dungeons and Dragons energy here, where Vriska’s plan to escape a mob of reporters working for a totalitarian dictatorship run by literal gods is to simply walk outside and publicly declare her intent to destroy the world as punishment for its sins. 

And yeah, this is how that plan usually works in DnD, too.

Man, the next page is a wall of text, whereas in old Homestuck this’d be an animation. I get “fair wages” and “small budget”, but is still feels weird to see a big Strife scene merely get described with boring-ass words.

Fearing gunfire, the few paparazzi who aren't currently getting their asses handed to them by the world's angriest traffic cone start to trip over each other, diving for cover.

The world’s angriest traffic cone.

Far away, in her lair, Jane Crocker grabs the two sides of her computer monitor with enough strength to snap it in two. She can't believe what she's watching. Behind her, from a shadowy corner of the room, there is an agitated growling noise and the rattle of chains.

Is that Yiffy? Is Yiffy an animal? Please tell me Yiffy is not a person that Jade named Yiffy. 

....Actually, please tell me that Yiffy isn’t an animal Jade named Yiffy that is Jade’s child via sex with another animal that might be my breaking point.

Vriska alights on the ground, rakes her throat, quietly spits out a little wad of blue, and wipes her mouth unceremoniously. Tavros pats Harry Anderson tentatively on the arm. Vrissy tries to be badass and cough up something too but she doesn't really make it work.  

Vrissy::Vriska Vriska::Mindfang

It’s weird that John’s sprite is the same even though he’s middle aged now, but I like that his God Tier outfit doesn’t fit any more. Isn’t it magical? Ahh, who cares.

JOHN: this old thing is pretty uncomfortable in a lot of ways. JOHN: hm... JOHN: when we get a moment, maybe the two of us could brainstorm a redesign? JOHN: no pressure though. HARRY: !!!

Oh, that’s why! That’s cute. 

JADE: theres something i need to tell you

don’thavefuckedadogdon’thavefuckedadogdon’thavefuckedadog

JADE: john... i have a daughter JADE: shes almost harry andersons age JOHN: ... JOHN: ... JOHN: you have a daughter.

Named Yiffy?

ROSE: It was at this point that Jade came to me. ROSE: I could understand her pain quite acutely, and so... ROSE: I agreed to carry a child on her behalf. KANAYA: . ROSE: ... Without telling Kanaya.

Without-

Kanaya is your WIFE. You LIVE WITH HER. Even ignoring the question of why you’d keep 9 months of pregnancy from your wife, how? Kanaya would have been living with humans for years at that point and she’s literally in charge of reproduction don’t tell me she thought Rose just got fat for a while and then lost the weight really fast. 

ROSE: I'm... not sure why I made that decision. ROSE: I regret not telling Kanaya, of course. ROSE: But I can't say that I regret going through with it. ROSE: At the time, it didn't feel as though the deception was even all that prolonged. The whole affair was... short. ROSE: Purely physical, and nothing more.

ROSE: John, there isn't a father. ROSE: Jade and I are the sole parents of this child. JOHN: oh. JOHN: ... JOHN: OH. JOHN: oh i'm so sorry, i didn't th- ROSE: That's quite alright John, although you might like to direct that apology more towards your sister. ROSE: All I will say is that if you would like to take up the particulars with us, ROSE: Some *other* time, 

Actually, if John doesn’t know that Jade has a male dog’s genitals due to a fusion accident, I’d love to know what that all-caps OH means. What does he think happened, that Jade and Rose managed to have a baby? 

JOHN: so... how did you hide the pregnancy? ROSE: Oh, that was simple. ROSE: Jade's genes being, as they are, part canine, the gestation period was substantially reduced.

OH NO 

Yiffy is literally a furry, isn’t she? Moreso that Jade, she’s a full-on “Can be naked onscreen and it’s okay because she’s covered in fur” dog girl.

JOHN: i think i understand everything so f VRISSY: WAIT!!!!!!!! VRISSY: YOU MEAN TO TELL ME VRISSY: NOT ONLY DO I H8VE A SISTER VRISSY: 8UT YOU NAMED VRISSY: YOUR ****SECRET CHILD**** VRISSY: ********YIFFY********????????

Vrissy makes an excellent point. 

ROSE: We didn't call her Yiffy. ROSE: That would be a quite ridiculous thing with which to burden a child. ROSE: Her full name is Yiffany Longstocking Lalonde Harley.

Vrissy looks as though she is about to shit the belltower they are standing in, brick by brick.

ROSE: It was, in hindsight, a monumentally terrible decision acting as the final chapter in a long series of novels, each one full of progressively more terrible decisions than the last. ROSE: But that is the name that we decided upon.

Oh, wait a second. Vriska changed Vriska Maryam-Lalonde to Vrissy, and changed Harry Anderson to just Harry. So obviously she’s going to rename Yiffy to literally anything else, then rename Tavros, and then we’ve got a new set of four kids as Vriska leaves to do something else. That’s what going to happen, right? Right? Please? 

ROSE: You have to understand... this whole situation ended up playing out a bit like an ironic game of chicken between the two of us. ROSE: Something that far outstripped anything that the Strider fraternity could have produced in their wildest, most jpegged creative wet dreams. ROSE: But in the end that triumph of irony came back to bite us in the fucking ass, as irony is wont to do. ROSE: There was absolutely no possibility of us casually letting you all know that, by the way, we had had a secret daughter named Yiffany Longstocking. ROSE: At least, not right away. ROSE: But carapacian change-of-name paperwork is so complex and circuitous that, eventually, keeping quiet forever just seemed like the more reasonable option.

This is, even for Homestuck, monumentally stupid. You named your daughter Yiffany Longstocking as a joke and then kept the child secret because you were embarrassed. You two are awful fucking parents. You are the worst parents in the entire series, and that includes Bro Strider and the spider that made Vriska feed it children. 

And we’re literally at the point where the writing is bad and the joke is how bad the writing is. This isn’t enjoyable to read; you can’t make a bad B-movie My Immortal fanfic on purpose.  

Even now, Yiffy is likely being held at spoonpoint

I feel like “Jade and Rose have a secret daughter named Yiffany Longstocking” can be a joke or it can be drama but maybe not both at the same time. 

[hockeytrashgoblin]

I’m Needy ~ Travis Konecny

A/N: Hi yall, a special treat for you! A two for one smut with Nolan and Travis! Not together but hey maybe later. I’m stressed, depressed, and dealing with it by writing smut. A Max Domi one is on the horizon. Enjoy!

*4 months earlier*

"(Y/n) just move in with me! I live right near the university!"

"No you don't you ween."

"I live pretty close. Come on it'll be perfect!"

"Trav please be serious for 5 seconds." I sighed loudly making him laugh. 

I'd been friends with Travis since we were kids. He was my brother and I's best friend actually. We're twins and Travis loved joking around about it. I would be lying if I said I didn't apply for a Philadelphia school to be closer to him again.

"I am being serious babes. I've got a two bedroom and it's big so all your shit will fit."

"I dont have that much shit."

"Pfft yeah okay."

"I can hear that eyeroll you bitch."

"It was deserved. But seriously (y/n) think about it."

"I don't want to crowd you teeks."

"You won't. I really want you to be close if you're gonna be here. Just promise you'll think about it? You've got a few months to decide still, I don't need an answer now."

"Okay I'll think about it."

"Promise?"

"Yes you goon, I promise."

*present time*

I didn't realize that living with Travis would entail so many parties. The parties weren't really an issue but watching him get drunk and grind all over countless girls was. No girls ever spent the night thank God. I always took care of Travis once the party was over. 

Now however the party was in full swing. I was sitting on the counter nursing a drink talking with Nolan while trying to keep an eye on Travis. A box-dye blonde laughed too loud at something he said. I rolled my eyes and Nolan made a gagging sound making us both laugh.

"How long do you think until they're in bed?" 

"Judging by how fucked up he is I'm surprised he's not fucking here right now." I said laughing with him.

"I'm just glad there's another person around to deal with him too now. Before I was the only one who would only get tipsy and make sure no one died."

"I don't like getting crazy drunk. Trav on the other hand.." I trailed off looking over to him mixing a bunch of alcohol together.

"He's fucking insane. I dont think he ever remembers what happened the next day."

Conversation flowed easily between Nolan and I as it always did. He was around so often so he had quickly become my best friend too. He was the only one who knew about my feelings for Travis.

"Hey how's your head? Should you really be at a party right now?"

"I'm fine mom." He said rolling his eyes and playfully shoving my shoulder.

"I just wanted to make sure." 

"I know, it's sweet that you care but I'm totally fine. Promise."

"Okay good." We were quiet for a bit before I spoke up again. "Hey do you want to hangout in my room instead? I'm getting kinda sick of watching Travis dry hump that girl."

"Yeah I get that. Let's go."

"We're cuddling. That's a threat." I said unlocking my door making him laugh.

"Alright."

"I'm touchy. It's worse with alcohol."

"You and Travis are exactly the same that way. You both need to touch someone all the time." I pulled him down into my bed.

"Yeah well touch me already Nol."

"Sounds like you're asking for something totally different."

"I wouldn't complain."

"Oh really?" He asked leaning to hover over me.

"I mean as long as it's clear we're just friends and I only have feelings for Trav, then why not?"

"That's clear. We're just two friends helping each other out. I don't have any feelings towards you either."

"Okay then fucking comere and touch me." I pulled him down and attached my lips to his. He moaned into it and rested some of his weight on top of me. I was trying to get our clothes off as quick as possible.

"Someone's eager." He mumbled into my neck.

"I haven't been this sexually frustrated since I was a teenager, I just need you to get in me already."

"Whatever you want (y/n)."

Soon enough our clothes were off and he was 3 fingers deep in me. His thrusts alternated between sharp and fast to rubbing along the inside walls of me and it was torture.

"Fuck Nols, your fingers feel amazing but I need more. Please?"

"Yeah. Yeah sorry do you have a condom?"

"Drawer." I said pulling him back in for a kiss. He blindly fumbled around but pulled back with a victorious smile on his face which made me roll my eyes and laugh. He quickly put it on and was hovering over me.

"Are you sure (y/n)?"

"Yes I'm sure. Make me forget about Travis for a few minutes yeah?"

"I'll be the only thing you're thinking about in a second." He said in my ear as he kissed my neck.

He guided himself into me and groaned loudly as he inched his way in. I was silent as I threw my head back trying to get adjusted to the intrusion.

"You okay?" He asked, kissing along my chest and collarbones.

"Yeah sorry, it's been a while. Like 6 months a while. I'm good though, you can move."

"Thank God. You're so tight, I'm not going to last as long as I want to."

"Fuck..you feel so good Nolan holy shit."

He built up a steady rhythm that had me moaning loudly underneath him. The only other sound you could hear from this room was skin on skin slapping as his thrusts picked up speed.

"How are you so wet that it doesn't even feel like I have a condom on fuck." I couldn't answer. I was a whining mess at this point. He chuckled and started rubbing my clit. "I can feel you getting close (y/n). You gonna come on my cock?"

"Yes, fuck Nolan, yes right there! Shit!"

"I'm close too. Want to get you there first though."

It didn't take long until I was finishing and screaming. The orgasm lasted long enough for Nolan to finish too and then some. He was fucking relentless on my clit. He collapsed on top of me out of breath and we were just quiet together for a minute.

"Not bad." I said making him snort.

"Yeah you weren't so bad either."

"Nice."

"Did I make you forget about Travis?"

"Yeah for a bit."

"He's gonna be so lucky once he fucking clues in that you like him."

"Yeah well we'll see if that ever happens."

"Come on we should get back out there. Who knows what kind of mayhem is happening out there."

"Yeah sure."

We went back out and couldn't find Travis anywhere. Nolan and I split up to try and ask around to find him. I ended up at Claude and he told me that he had gone to his room alone. The alone part shocked me but sure enough I saw that blonde from earlier hanging off of Nolan now. I laughed and winked at him before going off to find my boy. I knocked on the door and got no answer so I just unlocked it with my spare key. I got into the room and locked the door behind me.

"Tk?" I called out into the dark room.

"Hmph." I heard from the corner behind his bed.

"Trav, honey, what are you doing on the floor?" I asked crouching in front of him.

"Don't call me that I'm mad at you."

"Any particular reason why?"

"Hmph." He said again getting up.

"Travis talk to me why are you mad?"

"You fucked Nolan! You fucked my best friend!"

"Trav, what are you talking about?"

"I heard you! In your room. 'Fuck Nolan. You feel so good Nolan'." He imitated my voice and I rolled my eyes.

"I don't sound like that."

"Yes you did! Why did you do that?"

"Travis-"

"Why? Why fuck him when I've been right here the whole time? Your whole life pretty much? Why Nolan?"

"Travis listen-"

"No! No, I'm the one who loves you not him! I'm the one who wants to hold you and take care of you! I want to get to see your body not him! He's not better than me."

"He isn't Travis, no one is."

"Then why would you fuck my best friend (y/n)? When I want you so much why would you?"

"Travis I didn't know that. Nolan is my best friend too. There wasn't any feelings involved at all."

"So what you're just being a puck bunny now? Why would you do that? You're too good for that." He asked getting more upset than angry.

"Travis, love, I think you need to go to bed. We can talk about this later, alright? Promise."

"Okay fine. Will you sing me to sleep please?"

"Of course Trav." I sat on the bed next to him and started singing brushing hair off his face trying to relax him to sleep. Eventually it worked and I left the room to help clear out people and clean up after them.

"How's the baby?" Nolan asked.

"Not great. He's sleeping but he's upset with me."

"Why?"

"He heard us.."

"You mean?"

"Yeah he heard it all. He's like mad at me Nols."

"I'm sure it'll be okay. Travis holds grudges but I don't think he could ever hold one seriously against you."

"I hope you're right."

The rest of the night was spent quiet until everyone went home. I tried to sleep, I really did, but I was so upset that Travis was mad at me that I just stayed up all night crying. I eventually gave up and went to the living room to do some school work. I had a couple essays due in a couple weeks and if I didn't have to worry about them anymore that would be ideal. I didn't notice how late in the morning it was getting until Travis came stumbling through to the kitchen.

I started gathering up my things to go back into my room. I got everything in my arms and tried to quickly leave the room, almost crashing into him in the process.

"Shit sorry.."

"Watch where you're going." He said in a snarky tone.

"Sorry I just- sorry." I sighed looking down and left. I closed the door and cried again. I got my essays done and handed in by noon. I knew Travis was probably just sitting around but I didn't necessarily want to bother him so I stayed in my room. I cleaned for a while but I mostly just laid there quietly, confused. Until he barged in of course.

"You planning on ever leaving this room?"

"Nope."

"It's dinner time come on let's order something."

"I'm not hungry."

"Bull, you haven't eaten all day."

"I just don't really have an appetite today I'm sorry."

"Stop with this shit and pick what you want to eat." He said getting snarky again.

"I don't want to Travis."

"Well you have to."

"Maybe I shouldn't. I better start watching my weight if I'm just some fucking puck bunny now right?" I said with an edge in my voice.

"What are you talking about? You're not a puck bunny, who told you that?"

"You did. Last night."

"Last night..? Are you sure I said that to you?" I shot him a look and he raised his hands in surrender. "Okay dumb question sorry."

"You don't remember saying that to me? So you don't remember saying anything else to me either then?"

"I remember most of last night. I just can't believe that I'd say something like that to you. You know that's not what I think of you right?" I just shrugged and he came to sit beside me on the bed. "I have never thought that about you. I think too highly of you for that."

"You did tell me last night I was too good for that."

"I meant that part."

"Okay."

"I also remember you putting me to bed promising we would talk later about you fucking my best friend." He spit out the last few words. "I can't believe you would do that."

"Travis it didn't mean anything."

"It meant something to me."

"Travis I'm sorry okay?"

"It isn't okay."

"Well it should be. I'm an adult and you're not my dad. Plus I have to watch you like twice a week get drunk and fuck whoever will let you! That means something to me too."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I don't want you to fuck all those girls. Last night you asked me why I fucked Nolan when you've always been right here for my whole life. What was that supposed to mean?"

"I don't want to answer that question."

"For fuck sake Trav why not?"

"Because I don't want to."

"God you know why I've never chosen you my whole life?"

"No and I don't think I want to."

"Too bad."

"Rude."

"I never chose you growing up because you never made yourself an option! You were always too scared and you spent years making me look stupid pining after you. Even now when I'm pretty much confessing 13 years of built up feelings for you you still can't give me any answers. I never picked you because you never grew a pair and made yourself an option for me to pick. Because if you had I would've picked you over and over and over again. I pretty much did anyway."

"I didn't know you felt like that."

"How could you not have known all this time? Everyone knows."

"Well no one told me."

"That's bull. My brother teased us both about it so much."

"Yeah but I just thought he was being an idiot."

We were quiet for a minute both just sitting there not really looking at each other. I had just confessed almost everything to him and he still wasn't saying a single thing back.

"Look Trav, I'm sorry I slept with Nolan. I was fucking frustrated."

"Whatever, don't worry about it." He said getting up and going to the door.

"Travis wait!" I called to him, my voice cracking with tears. He turned around and frowned at me. "Did you really not mean anything you said last night?"

He didn't answer. Just shrugged and left my room. I wanted to cry again but the tears had run dry and I wanted answers. I got up and found him by the front door slipping his shoes on.

"I'll be back whenever, I'm going out." He reached to open the door but I reached past and slammed it. "What the fuck?"

"You're not going anywhere until I get some fucking answers, you fuckhole."

"I have no answers."

"Then we're gonna be here a long damn time huh?"

"You're fucking insane." He rolled his eyes and tried to leave but I boxed him in against the door. This shouldn't have worked at all. He was much bigger and stronger than me but he just stayed put. Well for the most part. He kept wiggling around so I pushed forward so most of my body was pressed up against his, my knee between his legs.

"Fucking talk to me you coward."

"What do you want me to say (y/n)? I'm fucking mad at you. I don't want to talk."

"We have to talk because if we don't you're going to be super mad at me forever and I'm not having that shit. We're not allowed to be ruined by me sleeping with someone."

"It was my best friend."

"I know Trav."

"You should've at least asked me, talked to me about it or something."

"You want me to ask permission to get fucked?"

"At least by Nolan yeah." He said shrugging.

"You're fucking delusional teeks."

"Why? Why is it too much to ask for you to let me know if you're going to be with someone?"

"Why are you acting so jealous?"

"M'not jealous." He said quickly making me laugh.

"You are fucking so! You can't just sit on the ground last night whining about 'why isn't it me? Why won't you fuck me instead?' then be all pushy today about it and expect me to believe that you're not jealous. You're so jealous. Why?"

"You shouldn't have slept with him."

"Love, we're well past that. I'm sorry." I said exasperated, bringing my hands down around his waist to hug him. "I'm sorry."

"Would you do it again?"

"Honest answer, if I got as frustrated and desperate as I was last night again and he offered I would."

"Goddamn woman, what had you so fucking horny that you decided that was the move?" He asked, rolling his eyes.

I decided to push the boundaries a little. Just to see what would happen. I couldn't make it any worse. I shifted my weight making my thigh run against Travis' dick making him gasp. I put my hands on his hips and pulled him closer to me.

"You did."

"Me?" He looked genuinely shocked by that answer.

"Yes you. Always you. How could you not gather that?"

"I don't know.."

"You always talk such a big game about how you can tell what a girl wants but can't figure out that I fucking want you?" I asked brushing my thigh against him again. I could feel him getting hard and it made my mind race. He wasn't stopping me, he wasn't disgusted by me.

"I thought you were always too annoyed with me to want me in any way."

"No Trav."

"I always thought I was too much."

"Travis you're not too much for me. You never have been. You never will be." I pressed against him again making him groan.

"Fuck.." he whispered before lifting me up, making me squeal. He carried me into his room and threw me on the bed before crawling over me. I instinctively put my hands on his hips and he held my face and half my neck in one of his hands.

"Trav.."

"Did you really mean everything you said?" He asked looking desperate and vulnerable. Not something I was used to from my boy but I did love that he felt that he could be that way in front of me.

"Of course Travis. Every word." 

"So you really don't think I'm too much?"

"Of course not."

"And you'd really choose me if it was an option?" He asked not looking at me anymore. I reached my hands up to either side of his face to make him look at me.

"Over and over and over again. I would choose you so fast, love."

And suddenly his lips were on mine in a soft but desperate kiss. It was years of hidden feelings being poured into it and it was a little overwhelming, not gonna lie. He pulled back and had the biggest smile on his face which made me smile too of course. The boys smile was contagious always.

"I really want you to choose me."

"Are you finally giving me the chance to?"

"Yes. Please (y/n)?"

"Yes Travis, I'm choosing to be with you. You're mine."

"You're mine." He said nipping at my bottom lip.

"Yours." I said pulling him down on top of me kissing him again. It was way more heated this time as he pushed himself against me making me moan quietly.

"Come on, you can be louder than that." He teased rolling his eyes.

"So make me be louder than that Tk."

"Oh I fucking plan to babygirl." He sat up to take his clothes off and I did the same, really just wanting to feel Travis on my skin finally. "You're always so loud in your room alone."

"Maybe I wanted you to hear me."

"Well I did." He was holding his dick and stroking it lazily. "I've touched myself like this to your sounds so often. That seems creepy to say, sorry."

"Don't be. I touch myself to the sounds of you too. When you're fucking some random girl I do and imagine it's me you're pounding into the bed."

"No more imagining. You're going to be pounded into this bed today."

"Please Travis? Want it so bad. Feel how wet I am for you babe." I took his hand and brought it down to me. He slipped two fingers in and we both moaned.

"This pussy is fucking water babe. I did that to you?"

"Every fucking day you do this to me Travis."

"And it took you 4 months to crack and fuck someone? Babygirl how did you not go crazy?"

"I did." I said shrugging.

"I'm gonna fuck you so good. Better than Nolan."

"Babes it's not a competition."

"Sure." He said waving it off. "I'm not gonna prep you anymore. You're probably still good from last night yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm good. Get in please?"

"How can I say no to that?" He leaned down to kiss me quick. "You want a condom?"

"Are you clean?"

"Yeah I always use condoms and the team check us every couple months."

"If you always use them why are you asking me?"

"Because you're special (y/n). I trust you and I just kinda really want to feel you. If that's okay."

"Yeah it's okay. Fuck me raw Trav. I love that shit."

"Did Nolan fuck raw?"

"No he didn't." I said making him smile.

"Then I'm special too." He said slowly thrusting into me. My mouth dropped open and I just nodded. "Feel good baby?"

"Fuck Travis. Move. Please fuck me?"

"So fucking needy." He chirped before starting up a steady rhythm. It wasn't fast at all like I thought it would be. He was fucking me like he had all day to do so, which I mean technically he did but it was again overwhelming. His thrusts were powerful but still lazy at the same time. He had me moaning and writhing on the bed underneath him. He left kisses up and down my neck, shoulders, chest, anywhere he could reach really. It lasted a long time and I was really savoring every moment with him. I finished a couple times in the time he was fucking me, touching me, and loving on me. He had already finished once too but he just kept fucking through it. His pace started picking up again.

"You close again baby?" I asked, brushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

"Yeah. Fuck. You feel so fucking good. Look amazing finally wrapped around my dick like I've wanted you for so long."

"I've wanted you just as long baby. Cum for me, love." I said kissing kis neck and scratching down his back.

"Shit.. fuck okay." His speed increased a lot and all you could hear was skin slapping together, me whining, and travis grunting. Arguably he was the hottest sound in the room. He was really pounding into me hard and I finished again all over his dick as he came inside me. He collapsed on top of me breathing heavy. We were quiet for a while just trying to calm down. He grabbed a tshirt off the ground and wiped us both down. He got back in bed and laid on top of me. We laid there for a while longer quietly just me running my fingers through his hair and him tracing patterns on my bare skin.

"You can leave if you want now."

"What?" I asked him confused as he rolled off me.

"You can go. Now that you got what you want, you don't have to stay here."

"Travis I- what? What on earth are you talking about?"

"You fucked me like you always wanted to, you can go. I'll be around next time you want to."

"Travis Konecny you're a fucking idiot."

"Um okay ouch? Why?" I rolled my eyes and threw my leg around him holding him close to me. 

"Is that really all you got out of everything I said today? That I just wanted to fuck you?"

"Well you did didn't you?"

"Of course I did. But I meant everything else I said too. I'll choose you everytime and not just for sex. I choose you for everything. I want to be yours. I want you to be mine. I thought I made that clear."

"You didn't." He let out a sigh of what I guess was relief and hugged me closer.

"Maybe you're just dense, love."

"I could be." He said with a smirk.

"Well just to make everything crystal clear, I want you to be my boyfriend Teeks. I always have."

"Really?!" He yelled in my ear.

"Ow you fucker, yes."

"Oops."

"I'll fucking oops you." I said kissing his jaw.

"I was really expecting you to just want a friends with benefits kind of thing. I was ready to settle for that."

"Travis you never have to settle for anything. You never have in any aspect of your life and never will. I want this with you."

"You really want to be with me? Even though you know how I am? What if you get sick of me?"

"It's been 16 years and I'm not sick of you yet. I want to be with you Travis. All of you. Angry Travis, happy Travis, sad Travis, stressed Travis, overexcited Travis. All of it."

"Really?"

"Yes really. Now stop trying to push me away and just date me already."

"Okay deal. You're mine now. Get fucked Nolan."

"Oh my God." I said rolling my eyes.

"Was I at least better than him in bed?"

"Trav-"

"No tell me, I wanna know."

"You were better but his dick was bigger. Do with that what you will. As long as you know that I'm never ever going to sleep with Nolan or anyone else for that matter until you get sick of me and dump me."

"Never going to happen babygirl." He kissed my forehead, making me blush. "So just me and you now? Exclusively us?"

"Yeah unless you don't want that?"

"Oh no I absolutely want that. I'm not sharing you with anyone."

"Me neither."

"I'd never hurt you like that."

"You better not or I'll tell your mom."

[superfanficnatural]

The Cold Of Heart

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Summary: (I really do not want to spoil) You decide to tell Dean how you really feel.

A/N: Ok so I found this and completely forgot about it so I’m just going to post it lol. As always, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: I’m not spoiling but angst, negative thoughts. Don’t worry, no triggers or anything like that. 

Gif is not mine

Six years. You had been hunting with the Winchesters for the past six years, falling in love with one of them almost instantly. At first, you wanted to make sure that it was real, not just infatuation, so you waited. Expecting it to go away, you were surprised to find out that your love kept running deeper and deeper, finding new reasons every single day to love that goofy green eyed hunter. Once you knew you were in love with him, you waited, praying that he would feel the same. Everyday, you dropped subtle hints, hoping that he would pick up on them or at least show some kind of attraction to you. After all this time, he didn’t say or do anything, so you decided enough was enough, you were going to confess your feelings for him. 

Walking into the library, you saw Dean sitting down on one of the chairs, propping his feet up on the table. You smiled and walked up to him, “Hey, Dean. Where’s Sam?” you asked.

“He’s out, said he had to go shopping for something,” he grunted, looking up at you.

You went over and sat down at a chair across the table from him, taking a deep breath, “Hey, I uh, have something to tell you,” you warily admitted.

“What’s up Y/N?”

“I- at first when I- um... I think-” you were a stuttering mess, already having a blush on your face.

“Y/N, take a deep breath for me,” he chuckled, putting his feet down and resting his elbows on his legs, giving you his attention.

You took in another deep breath and exhaled slowly, “For the longest time, I waited,” you started, “I waited for you to give me a sign, anything that showed that you felt the same way,” you started.

“Y/N...”

“Don’t, please, let me say this,” you shakily cut him off.

“Ever since I first met you, I had this undeniable attraction to you. At first I thought to myself, he’s just attractive, it’s all just physical attraction,” you began, “But after a while, getting to know you, I found myself falling deeper and deeper. The way your eyes shine when you have a genuine smile on your face, the caring and protective side of you for those you love. I couldn’t help but fall for you,” you breathed, a smile threatening to grow on your face.

“You never gave me any kind of indication that you felt the same way even after all of the hints that I dropped, I don’t know if you ever even really saw them but I decided that enough was enough and that I should just flat out tell you,” you took a deep breath, “I’m in love with you, Dean Winchester,” you picked up your gaze and looked at him. He seemed like he was having an internal struggle and his face had lost all color. 

The silence was deafening and you didn’t know if you could take it any longer. After a few moments, he steeled his face and responded.

“Y/N, I’m sorry but...”

No

No no no no please, don’t

“I don’t feel the same way.”

You couldn’t breathe, a lump in your throat closing off your air, your eyes wide and mouth agape. You felt like you were being sucked into a bottomless pit of despair, becoming disoriented you couldn’t feel your arms or legs. You thought that he was just hiding it because he was scared, that he didn’t want to ruin what you guys had. Your heart was broken, and there was nothing that you could do to fix it. 

There’s nothing else he can say that could break me further than this

“You’re like a little sister to me.”

A tear fell down your eye, followed by another, and another. There was this pain in your chest that hurt more than any stab wound, any gunshot. It felt like it was piercing your heart, bleeding it of its life. You couldn’t be here anymore, seeing Dean’s steeled face with no emotion, you couldn’t handle it. You got up and ran, ran as fast as you could to your room, your legs feeling like ghost limbs. You shut the door and sat down on your bed, bawling your eyes out. 

He didn’t take the hints because he never liked you. Why would you ever think that he would like someone like you? You aren’t even his type, eat too much greasy food, love handles for miles, you’re disgusting.

The voice in your head was driving you insane, it voiced everything that you were afraid to admit, all of your insecurities. 

You never deserved someone like Dean, you don’t deserve happiness, only suffering.

“Shut up,” you growled. “That’s not true,” you muttered, not believing it but hoping if you said it, it would become believable. 

Even you don’t think that, you’re pathetic, they only asked you to join them so they wouldn’t feel bad if you died on a hunt by yourself. God knows you can’t hunt to save your own ass.

You couldn’t stop the voices, they were overbearing, bringing all of your deepest darkest thoughts up to the surface. You couldn’t sit still, pacing around your room with tears streaming down your face. Bringing your hands up to your head, you tried to get rid of the voices but they weren’t letting up.

You can’t get rid of us, for we are your inner thoughts, the ones you tried to push down. If only you had understood that you were worthless, this wouldn’t have been happening.

I can’t do this anymore, you started packing all of your stuff up with haste, throwing your clothes into your duffel. You grabbed the keys to your car and snuck out of your room, Dean wasn’t anywhere in sight so you took your opportunity and ran to the garage, getting in your car and hightailing it out of there. You were on the road for about ten minutes before you started crying again, flashes from your conversation coming back to you.

You’re like a little sister to me

I don’t feel the same way

You felt like you were suffocating, unable to draw breath. Your heart still had that piercing pain, as clear as ever. The tears were coming at full force, blinding you so you couldn’t see the bright lights rapidly approaching your car.

Dean’s POV

Shit, I knew that conversation was going to come sooner or later. I had noticed every single hint that Y/N had dropped, but I made sure that I didn’t give her an inch. She could never find out.

After our conversation, she ran back to her room, tears falling down her face. I felt terrible, I had to force myself to stay in my seat so I wouldn’t go and comfort her, knowing she wouldn’t want anything from me. I went back to my room and could hear her crying through the wall separating us. There was a huge pain inside of my chest that no matter how hard I tried to push down it just wouldn’t go away. I felt like a complete asshat but this was for the best, I can’t do that.

After about half an hour, I decided to go talk to her, wanting to see if I could make her feel better. Walking into her room, my heart dropped. It was clean, she had packed up all of her stuff.

Fuck, no no no

I ran to the garage and saw that she had taken her car. I rushed back into my room and took out the tracker that could trace her car. 

Why isn’t she moving?

I didn’t have time to dwell on that, I got my jacket and keys and ran to baby, getting in and pulling out of the garage, baby’s wheels skidding on the floor from my speed. Checking the tracker, she was about three miles ahead of me. After a few minutes, I saw bright blue and red lights lighting up the forest and my vision.

No

I drove until I saw it, her car totaled, smashed into some other person's car. I got out of baby and overheard the officer say, “The witness in the other car said that she seemed to have tears in her eyes so she couldn’t see the road.”

I rushed up to the car and saw her. Body limp, flown out of the car from the windshield, cuts all over her face and body. The officer tried to stop me but I pushed him off of me and rushed to her.

“Y/N? Y/N can you hear me? No no no no, don’t leave me, I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave me,” I choked out, tears streaming down my eyes. I couldn’t breath, her normally bright and beautiful face now colorless, her eyes that once had fire in them, lifeless. 

It’s all my fault. 

She’s gone and it’s my fault

I let out an ear piercing scream, the pain in my chest too much to handle. My soul felt like it was being ripped out of my body, punishment for not telling the truth. 

If only I hadn’t pushed her away, we would be safe and back at the bunker

I succumbed to the thoughts in my head, it really was my fault. She’s dead because of me, just like everyone else.

Two Weeks Later

“Dean, can I come in?” Sam asked, knocking on Y/N’s old bedroom door. There was no answer so he walked in, recoiling and holding his nose with his hand. The stench of alcohol everywhere.

“Dean, what the fuck? What are you doing?”

“Fuck off Sammy, leave me alone,” he muttered, drunk off of his ass.

“Look, Y/N’s death hurt both of us, but she’s gone Dean! She’s gone, and drinking yourself into a stupor isn’t going to bring her back!”

“Get the fuck out, before I kill you,” he snarled.

Sam took a step back, the venom in his voice scaring even him. He left the room and slammed the door, angry that Dean wasn't letting him help.

Dean took another sip of the bottle, emptying it. He was disgusted with himself, not caring if he died or not, knowing that it was his fault Y/N died, he felt like he deserved it. Hell, he wanted it. He had no purpose left in life, without Y/N, everything was dark. She was the light in his world, the light that woke him up in the morning, the light that made him want to fight to become a better person, and he was the one who snuffed it out. He threw the bottle against the wall, roaring out in anger, the tears steady streaming down his face. He picked up a shirt next to him, the only one that Y/N didn’t pack and brought it to his face, deeply inhaling her scent, bringing another wave of tears to the surface. 

If only I was strong enough to tell her, to tell her that I loved her.

Y/N POV

You woke up in a bright room, completely alone, in what seemed like a white box.

“Hello? Is this the new and improved version of hell?” you yelled out.

After a few moments, a door appeared and a man walked in. Fairly short, blue eyes and a beard, he seemed harmless.

“You don’t look like a demon,” you remarked.

He chuckled, “No, I’m not a demon, but who I am doesn’t matter, what does matter, is that it isn’t your time yet.”

“What do you mean ‘not my time yet’?”

He walked over to you, standing a few feet away from you, he smiled softly, his eyes glowing white, then everything went blank.

Forevers Tag List: @magssteenkamp​ @shadowsinger11​ @donnaintx​ 

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags: @akshi8278​

Female Reader Tags: @punof-agun​ @emoryhemsworth​

[smallheathgangsters]

Sober Wishes | J.S.

A/N: Finally finished another John request. I hope you all like it and I always appreciate your feedback! 🧡 Please consider that English is still not my first language :)

Request: “Can I request a 36 & 14 with John please 😊“ by @shelbygirlsclubx​

Pairing: John Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 3143

Type: angst, fluff

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

You’d been lying on the sofa of your living room in your apartment for a few hours now. You didn’t know what time it was, but you guessed that it had to be around midnight. Your back was rested against the edge of the sofa, your legs bent and an open book resting against your thighs. In your right hand you were holding a glass of wine.

You had stopped counting how many glasses you’d already had, but when you had poured the residue of the liquid out of the bottle a few minutes ago, you knew it had been quite a lot. You didn’t have the worst alcohol tolerance, but a whole bottle was even a lot for you.

You groaned when you realised how much you’d drunk. But it was already too late, so you just accepted the fact and waited for the intoxication to take over your mind and body.

You focused on your book again, turning to the next page. You enjoyed the story very much and hoped the drunkenness wouldn’t settle in too fast, so you’d be able to finish reading the chapter you were on.

A year ago, there would have been no chance for you to get this drunk. John had always been there to stop you when he noticed you having enough, but never keeping you from having fun, enjoying your drunken evenings as a couple, joking around and playfully flirting with each other, even though you’d been together for over three years. He would have carried you to bed carefully whenever you started feeling groggy and sleepy, taking off your clothes and make-up, changing you into comfortable pyjamas and tucking you under the blanket. Then he’d crawl under the sheets with you, wrapping his arms around you and cuddling you until you fell asleep.

In the mornings, he would make sure to keep the kids out of your shared bedroom, letting you sleep in and not be disturbed. John would sneak out of bed, go down to the kitchen and clumsily make his children breakfast and send them out in the garden to play. Then he’d come back to you, bringing you a cup of your favourite tea to the bed. He would kiss your forehead and say: “This will help with the hangover.”

While the tea had always cured the pain in your head in mornings like those, the pain in your heart you felt since not having John by your side anymore, never went away, no matter what you drank. Not even wine or whiskey helped the overwhelming ache pulsing in your chest.

You took large gulps of the beverage in your hand and only a few minutes later you stared cluelessly at the empty glass, asking yourself what your life has become.

You sighed when you thought about how stupid this whole behaviour was. There was literally no point in getting drunk and feeling sick in the morning, because the real pain never went away. Not even after the hundredth attempt.

You read the last few sentences of the chapter and closed the book, throwing it carelessly on the coffee table next to the sofa. Then you pushed yourself up into a sitting position trying to figure out the state you were in. After waiting a moment and not feeling too bad, you swung your legs over the edge of the sofa, getting up.

It didn’t even take two seconds until you crash landed on the wooden floor, hitting your head on the table. You moaned out in pain, closing your eyes. Maybe your state was worse than you thought. Your hand blindly reached out, trying to find the coffee table. When your fingertips got in contact with the wood, you grabbed it, pulling yourself up slowly. Finally, you had manoeuvred yourself into a sitting position a second time, placing your spinning head onto the cold surface of the table.

Fucking pathetic.

That was all you were. Pathetic. And you were so happy John knew nothing about the condition you were in. He’d be so incredibly embarrassed. He’d be embarrassed about ever having been together with you.

You let out a sob, not knowing what to do in this exact moment. You felt so helpless.

Helpless and incredibly hopeless.

How come you were so incapable of getting your life together again? It wasn’t as though you’d been the first person to go through a breakup. That was life and there would probably be a lot more heartbreaks to come. There was no way you could react like this every time love didn’t work out the way you hoped it did.

You lifted up your head from the table, looking blankly around in the living room, but your eyes weren’t able to focus on a point. You let out another desperate sob.

Maybe you deserved this. Maybe you deserved the pain never going away, not having control of your life anymore. After all, it had been your fault you and John had broken up. You had broken John’s heart and it was absurd of you to be crying about heartbreak, when all he’d ever done was love you. The pain that was eating you alive was all you doing, not John’s and there was nothing to blame him for.

The memories of you walking out on him when you had felt the negative side of his lifestyle completely taking over, invaded your mind. Out of fear, out of insecurity, you had walked away, leaving him all alone again with his four kids. You didn’t dare to think about how you’d made him feel, only caring about yourself, instead of helping him, helping his children. It had been too much for you to bare, the negativity, the violence. The murder. It had kept you awake at night and pacing around the house during the day. In the end, it had become too much for your weak soul to handle.

Nevertheless, it was a lame excuse. It was an excuse that sounded like you were only thinking about yourself, yet again.

You felt yourself erupt into sobs, tears piling in your eyes and then eventually spilling over your cheeks slowly. You pushed yourself back against the sofa, placing your head into your hands and crying quietly into them. How much you wished John was here to comfort you.

And while you sat there crying, the drunkenness increased, making your brain think irrationally.

After feeling like you’d calmed down, you pushed yourself up with your hands on the coffee table. Before taking a step, you waited a moment, hoping that you’d be able to somewhat find your balance and not fall over again like the first time.

Luckily, you didn’t, and your legs began walking towards the front door and out of your apartment, down the stairs, onto the streets. If you were being completely honest, you had no idea where they and your mind were taking you. They seemed to work on their own and there was nothing you were able to do about it. Or maybe you just didn’t want to do anything about it. Maybe it was exactly what your subconsciousness wanted to do but wasn’t able to in a sober state.

Before you even knew it, you suddenly stood across a strangely familiar large wooden front door. You couldn’t tell how long it had taken you to get here, you’d lost all track of time. But not even a second later, your hand rose, clenched into a fist and knocked hard against the door. Instead of stopping after a few knocks, your intoxicated mind decided it was appropriate to just not stop at all.

Suddenly, the door was torn open.

“Bloody hell, what the actual–“

You stared at the man in the doorway, whose breath hitched in his throat when his eyes landed on you standing there.

“Y/N?!” he gasped shocked. “What on earth are you doing here at two in the morning?”

You stumbled a step towards him and gave him a drunken smile. “Hello, John …”

It was hard for you to form the words. They were sticking to the roof of your mouth, not willing to roll over your lips.

John gripped your shoulders and leaned down a little, observing your face closely. “Are you okay?”

“Sure …” you slurred and tried to lean against him, but he held you in position, understandably not letting you get too close to him.

You heard him sigh deeply. “How much have you had to drink tonight?”

Your lips formed a cheeky smirk. “A bottle of wine … maybe?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not a maybe,” he said, giving you a taunting look. “Can’t really let you stay outside at this time, can I?”

It wasn’t a question directed at you, he was talking to himself, thinking about what to do with your drunken mess. But nevertheless, you felt the urge to answer him. “No, you can’t. That would be mean …”

You pouted at him, what made him roll his eyes. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably gorgeous,” you giggled.

He huffed. “Yes, you are unbelievable gorgeous. But not tonight. Tonight, you look fucking insane.”

“Insanely beautiful,” you slurred, still giggling to yourself. John sighed again and then finally let go of your shoulders. He placed a hand on your back and guided you into his house.

With the first step into the entrance John’s sweet scent surrounded you. It blurred your senses, bringing back the times when you were living here, together with him and the kids.

He noticed something being on your mind, because you had stopped in your tracks, looking blankly down the hallway.

“Everything all right, Y/N?” John asked you cautiously. He probably thought you were about to throw up, but on the contrary, you were feeling much better since the scent had taken over your senses and your body got the warm, comfortable feeling of being at home. Finally.

“Yes …” you whispered quietly, totally lost in your thoughts, “I’m … very good actually.”

John nodded slowly and gave your back another soft push. “Let’s bring you to the guest bedroom, shall we?”

You hummed in response, letting his gentle touch lead you down the hall, towards the last room. His hand grabbed the handle, pushed it down and opened the door for you. While you stood in the middle of the room, not knowing what to do with yourself, John went to the bathroom next door and came back with a glass of water. “Here. Drink this.”

You obeyed, taking the glass with both your hands and bringing it up to your lips to take little sips. Then he went over to the bed, pushing back the sheets. “Now come here and lay down.”

Again, you did as he said. He took the now half empty glass from you before you let yourself fall onto the mattress ungracefully, letting out a muffled groan. John moved your legs onto the bed as well and covered your body with the sheets.

“Are you not staying with me?” you asked sadly, not realising that it was a very inappropriate question.

“No, that wouldn’t be a good idea,” John answered.

“I’m really sad, you know,” you blurted out. John had already started walking towards the door, when he stopped. He turned back to you, giving you a look that you didn’t understand. The alcohol had made it hard for you to read the expression on his face.

“Me too, Y/N,” he breathed, almost inaudibly.

“Good night, John,” you said, giving him a dumb smile and snuggling into the pillow and sheets.

John waited a moment and then he cleared his throat. “Good night, Y/N.”

You didn’t even hear him shut the door to your room, falling asleep right away. But it wasn’t a good sleep and you kept waking up, tossing and turning. You probably had to try and get as much rest as possible, considering the amount of alcohol you had in your blood stream, but you started feeling slightly sick after waking up for the fourth time. You decided that it was pointless and pushed the sheets away from your body, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. Your head was pounding, but you’d had it worse before, so it was bearable.  

You padded over to the bathroom, opening the door as quietly as possible. When you looked at yourself in the mirror the memories from the evening before washed over you. It was as though you had totally forgotten that you’d showed up drunk at John’s door at two in the morning and then slept in his guest bed. His home still felt so much like your home, that when you’d gotten up a few minutes before, you hadn’t thought about the reason you weren’t in your apartment at all.

You cursed under your breath. Your hair was tangled and there were unpleasant dark circles under your eyes, making you look exactly like the rough night you’d had. You turned on the tap and washed your face with ice cold water, trying to make the uneasy feeling in your stomach go away. As expected, it did nothing of that sort and the headache was still there too.

You sighed, leaning against the sink and staring at your face. You looked tired. And sad. But nothing about that was surprising.

The thought of maybe being able to sneak out of the house before everyone was awake crossed your mind. You held your breath, trying to be as quiet as possible to listen to the sounds in the home.

Your hopes were crushed when you heard a muffled squeal. Katie. That meant the kids were awake and that also meant that John was awake. You shut your eyes, trying to calm your nerves.

When you felt like you’d already spent enough time procrastinating in the bathroom, you eventually opened the door, stepping out into the hallway.

“Y/N, there you are!”

You flinched, turning your head into the direction of the guest room you’d slept in. John was standing in the middle of it.

“The door was open, and I thought you’d already left,” he said.

Your gaze fell to the floor awkwardly. “I was planning on leaving right now anyway … thanks for letting me sleep over.”

“Don’t you want to stay for breakfast? I’m sure the kids wouldn’t mind,” John said in an almost too good mood in consideration of the circumstances. He even gave you a cheeky smile when he said the last word.

“Oh, no. Thank you so much for the offer, but I can’t,” you murmured, embarrassed by the way he treated your mess of a human being so nicely. “This whole … situation … I’m very sorry about everything, John. I had no control over myself yesterday and this shouldn’t have happened.”

“No,” John replied, “this shouldn’t have happened. But it’s still okay and you mustn’t worry too much about it. I know how it’ll mess with you if you don’t let it go.”

You gulped. You hated hearing him tell you that he knew you. Because it was true. He still knew you so well and it put you in a very vulnerable position.

“I’ll try,” you whispered. Then you glanced over your shoulder to the living room where the sound of children’s laughter was coming from. “I should really get going.”

The loss of your drunkenness gave you back your ability to read people’s facial expressions and also made you tell that John’s was filled with hurt.

“I really want you to stay for breakfast, Y/N. I think there are a few things we should talk about,” John said, making you blush a little out of awkwardness. Your eyes found his and the blueness overwhelmed you. You’d almost forgotten how beautiful he was. The cute little freckles on his nose and cheekbones, the pouty rosy lips.

And while you just stood there, gazing at his perfect face, you suddenly blurted out something you actually didn’t want to say out loud. “I can’t stop thinking about us.”

You threw your hand over your mouth the moment you realised what you’d just said, but it was already too late. John gave you a weird look, as if he was trying to comprehend what you’d told him.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry, I– I don’t know what I was thinking … again,” you stammered, tearing your eyes away from his and helplessly looking towards the front door, wishing you were able to simply turn around and run away.

All of a sudden, you felt two strong arms around your body, wrapping you into a tight hug.

“You need to take a deep breath and calm down, Y/N. And you need to stop worrying so much,” you heard John murmur, resting his head on top of yours. You sighed into the hug and let the tense muscles in your body relax. His embrace felt so good.

“It was a stupid thing to say, I’m sorry,” you apologised again.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you don’t feel the same way,” you admitted sadly.

John pushed you away from his chest and then snaked his arms around your waist, looking down at you. “Y/N, I think of you every single day. Though I have to admit, I was absolutely heartbroken when you left. The kids asked me why you were gone and when you’d come back …”

You gulped, feeling tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. You didn’t want to cry. It wasn’t your turn to cry. Still, hearing about the children made it worse and it was hard holding the tears back. “I’m so sorry …”

“I’m still very hurt. You never explained to me, what made you run. I know it was my job and the dangerous life and all. But … you never exactly told me why. If you had only given me a chance to change some things, to change some of my ways, maybe even be around more … whatever it was. I would have done anything to make you stay, Y/N.”

“But I just left …” you whispered sadly.

John nodded. “You just left.”

You looked up at the lovely man and gave him a shy smile. “In that case, I won’t leave today. At least not until we’ve eaten breakfast with the kids.”

John’s face lit up. “Lovely! Katie missed you so much, she’ll be over the moon!”

“I missed her too. And … I’m not just saying that, I hope you know that, John,” you told him carefully.

“I know, Y/N.”

“Good,” you smiled. “Let me get into the kitchen then. I’ve got to make up for last night and cooking breakfast seems like a decent first step.”

You gave John another smile, this time a wider one than before and hurried down the hall.

[rogerbikes]

8 more days until my husband graduates from bootcamp.

I cannot believe I survived almost 8 weeks without him. Was I alone in it? No. But I need to honestly stop knocking myself of the credit I deserve.

Still remember the card ride we were on when he was complaining about how dead end his job was and how better off we’d be financially if he had joined the Navy.

We were brand new parents. Hit with a fucking pandemic, living in a shit hole and feeling like shit holes. Our daughter was five months old. I had no job and we didn’t know what the next couple months were going to look like. Let alone the next couple YEARS. It was scary, dark and sometimes felt hopeless.

I remember being at home all day with the baby while he worked. Breastfeeding, watching TV, entertaining the baby and waiting for him to come back. Not knowing when things were going to change or how.

“Then why don’t you just do it?” I said. And from that moment we had a plan. I can’t believe everything started from a simple conversation and now we are at the end of the hardest part. Not only that, but we have ANOTHER child on the way.

I seldom take the time to give myself slack or credit or really admire the life I have. The things I do. I’m always concerned with not doing ENOUGH.

My husband left in May and since then I’ve successfully weaned our impossible daughter off breastfeeding. Gotten her on a schedule. Managed to feed, change and entertain her for weeks. I’m growing a human. I’ve moved out of our apartment. Dealt with the emotional turmoil that is pregnancy and being totally cut off from your spouse. I’ve done a lot and honestly I didn’t let it destroy me.

I’ve had some really great times through all of this. Like my daughters first birthday and birthday party. Watching her grow, become more interactive, silly, independent. Going to a carnival for the first time in forever. Going to the lake. Dying my hair. Going to the museum. My anatomy scan of the baby. The tiring walks we take in the mornings before nap time. The desperate nap time car rides. Going to the YMCA for swim time. I’ve done my best to enjoy all the little things. Despite it all. Even the joy of getting a letter from my husband can make my day.

But here we are almost at the fucking end! I’ll finally have a little bit of sanity back. And hopefully some more information about the future.

I’ve really had to push myself so much these past few weeks. In a way I think it was totally healthy for me to have this time alone. SO much has happened the past two years it’s insane. I never got to digest any of it. The thing about having kids is, I don’t think you ever do. Everything is go go go until those really big moments happen where it all kind of hits you. Like when the Princess at her birthday party was “crowning” her an official princess and the fact that I’ve been holding this little girl for over a year hit me. I could remember her very first cry and how it made my heart flutter. That’s when it hits you.

Or when she’s sleeping and I get to just look at her peacefully and remember the sleepless nights on my end when we just brought her home. Nobody lies when they tell you enjoy every moment because it goes so fast. It does! It’s time consuming. It’s hard work. It’s never quiet. I guess on the rare occasion that it is, you can truly soak it in.

Being away from my husband forced me to take risks, do things I didn’t think about doing before, being more organized, on top of things. In control. I mean I think we spent the first 9 months of her life not having a clue how to do anything. She was the boss. There was no order at all and we were both a wreck on the inside and out.

I used to not go to the store alone with my daughter because I was afraid of this, that and the other. I also never took the car seat out by myself or knew how to install it. Didn’t like driving with her alone in the backseat. Was afraid to feed her real food instead of baby food I knew was impossible to choke on. All these fears I overcame! I stopped dreading mornings as much and instead prepping for them mentally.

Also I started to slowly but surely get rid of people from my high school off of social media which I know sounds silly but it gives me anxiety. However when I actually do it I feel so much better and don’t regret it at all. I’m rapidly approaching my mid 20’s and it really is time to let go of the past. I’ve had such a hard time closing chapters and realizing I’m in a new one. Social media makes it THAT much harder but I think it’s even harder to break from it as a whole. It’s just unrealistic since my generation was raised on it. It’s so ingrained in me. It’s much easier to just create a safer space for yourself than force yourself off of something that provides creative expression.

I genuinely enjoy MY OWN content I just get annoyed by others. I’m still healing and processing past events and relationships. But those things were real and deep so I need to be forgiving with myself about it. But I definitely have gotten to points in the past where it’s like all I would think about. Now I’m not allowing myself to have SO MUCH dwell time. I need to live and be present. But also gentle with myself as I dont have THEE most stamina out there. Like seriously. Catch me with dizzy spells all the time.

Another big thing I accomplished was changing my name (again) legally which was A PROCESS! I’m never changing my name again. Seriously it is not worth it. Props to my 21 year old self for doing the most and going knee deep with transition but JFC was it a mess to get out of.

This is such a long post but it’s been a long summer so far.

Anyways. When it comes to genders I’ve time and time again come back to the same conclusion that I’m just fluid. A few months ago I was very turned off my anything feminine and felt more masculine again but when I get into THAT mindset I’m very one track mind. Blinders on.

The reality is I’m capable of feeling feminine and being happy in it. Like currently I’m VERY femme vibes and I’m comfortable with it. I’ve found a happy medium. Will I ever grow my hair rapunzel long again and flaunt around like I’m a cottage core princess? No. That’s just not me. Ironically enough I love that aesthetic I just know it isn’t ME. I’m way more rough around the edges. And that’s okay. I’m learning to stop trying and to just BE.

I’m excited to see how my marriage will feel after coming back together. We weren’t in a super strong place a few months ago. I always knew we have a solid foundation but there’s always so much to work on. Most of it comes from the inside of either of us. There was so much lack of being people. I think most new parents go through that but nobody wants to talk about that.

The first year of parenting is supposed to be some magical quirky shit show that everyone has a good wholesome laugh about. When in reality it’s just a flaming messy shit HOLE that you laugh about otherwise you will cry about it. But you end up crying regardless.

Anyways. The bottom line is. I’m ready to fucking move on. Move OUT. And go forward. This is just a little mile marker for me to say “you did it! you got through those dreaded 8 weeks!”

[bamon4bamily]

TVD 9x16 - What happens in Vegas... (part 2 of part 1) Enjoy! =)

Cut to – The hospital location.  As soon as they arrive, they figure they must have made some kind of mistake. It is in fact a Psychiatric Hospital, but it looks like it has been abandoned for years.

UBER DRIVER: Looks like you might have the wrong address…

KAI: It’s the right address, look (shows Damon his phone with last night’s route).

DAMON: Guess it is…

UBER DRIVER: Are you sure you guys want me to leave you here?

IKER: Trust us, man, after last night, it can’t get any crazier.

UBER DRIVER: If you say so. Good luck! (Drives away).

ALARIC: (Looking at the creepy place, already regretting whatever they did there the previous night) Why?! Why on earth would we come here!

DAMON: Guessing princess bride here (referring to Kai), had something to do with that.

IKER: There is no way that call came from here...

DAMON: Let’s check it out. We’ll do it fast, in and out; just to make sure Stefan isn’t passed out somewhere inside.

ALARIC: I’m getting too old for this shit…

DAMON: Oh, come on, Ric! Think of it as another one of your Indiana Jones adventures (mocking him for the photos he took in cosplay), the Last Crusade, if you like.

ALARIC: Shut up…

They go inside… the place is straight out of a horror movie.

 IKER: Okay, I’m officially creeped out.

DAMON: I say we split up; it’ll be faster and we can cover more ground.

KAI: Have you ever seen a horror movie? That’s exactly the kind of decision that gets everybody killed… Trust me, I would know.

DAMON: Fine, Michael Myers, you can come with me. 

We’ll look this way... Iker, you and Ric can search down that corridor.

IKER: Sounds like a plan. But, 20 minutes max, then we meet back here.

DAMON: 20 tops. (Teasing, as him and Kai are walking away) Oh, and watch out for the killer clown…

IKER: Yo, don’t play with that shit, man! You know I hate clowns...

ALARIC: So do you, Damon. So, if anyone is pissing their pants, my money is on you. 

(Damon and Kai walk towards one direction, Iker and Alaric, towards another).

KAI: Do you really think Stefan is here? I mean, I know he’s dark and gloomy, but this is a bit extreme… even for me.

DAMON: The only reason we are here is because your crazy ass is definitely responsible for dragging us here last night.

KAI: Yeah, probably… but still, creepy AF…

DAMON: Now you know how we feel when you’re around. But… what I am really intrigued about, is how the hell you joined our little party.

You must remember at least getting on a plane or something...  

KAI: No… Last thing I remember, I was taking a nap, and then… puff! I woke up here…

DAMON: You couldn’t have driven; so how the hell did you get here… Makes no sense.

KAI: Ooh…! What if I can do that Bonster trick?! That’d be freakin awesome!

DAMON: Of course you can’t, that’s stupid. Unless… No, no, I refuse to believe that…

KAI: What? You think Bonster...? Hey, it makes more sense than the alternatives…

DAMON: No way! Hell no! Let’s just drop this little mystery of ours and do what we came here to do… (they continue searching; suddenly, he stops dead in his tracks) Shhhhh, do you hear that?

KAI: What? No…

DAMON: Listen…

KAI: I am! I don’t hear anything…

DAMON: I thought you had vamp hearing…. Listen harder.

KAI: (Standing completely still and in total silence, trying to listen…)

DAMON: (Does a vamp speed trick, scares the shit out of Kai) Killer clown!

KAI: Jesus mother of Christ! (Damon cracks up) Not funny, asshole! 

I literally almost shit myself! And, I’m hung over, so that was a real possibility!  

DAMON: Ew, no, no, no… you’re disgusting.

KAI: Just being honest… don’t act like you don’t know what that’s about.

DAMON: Yeah, no... definitely not having this conversation! 

Come on, let’s pick up the paste; vamp speed our way through this place before we become the victims of the “based on a true story” Saw movie.

Cut to – Iker and Alaric

 ALARIC: Sorry we got you into this mess, man.

IKER: No worries. I’m used to it. These types of situations pretty much sums up what it’s like being friends with Damon.

ALARIC: Tell me about it. My life said goodbye to “normal” the day we became friends.

IKER: Ditto (they laugh in complicity).

ALARIC: He’s a good guy, though. I mean, considering…

IKER: He is… I’m really glad Bonnie gave him a chance; never seen him this happy… like, really happy.

ALARIC: Me neither… I think we both know he wasn’t truly happy with Elena. Don’t tell her I said that… but no matter how hard they tried; it just wasn’t going to work; too messy. Gotta say, it’s kind of ironic that when he “got the girl”, turned out it wasn’t the “right girl” … After all his love drama, it was about time he finally found “the one”.

IKER: It sure was… Hey, man, look…  (spots something strange ahead, vamps to it. It’s a black garbage bag; which wouldn’t be all that strange if it weren’t new). Check this out… (Alaric opens the bag, and starts taking memorabilia from iconic Britney Spears videos, which are clearly originals) What the…

ALARIC: I’m starting to believe Stefan wasn’t kidding…

IKER: Nah… you don’t think… Can’t be, right?!

ALARIC: When those two (referring to Damon and Stefan) team-up, anything is possible, so… maybe?

IKER: Oh, shit! This is getting crazier than I thought!

ALARIC: Straight out insane. Let’s go back. I’m pretty sure Stefan isn’t here, and this place is giving me the chills.

IKER: Me too… (they head back to the meeting point).

Cut back to Kai and Damon.

 KAI: We’ve searched everywhere, I really don’t think he’s here…

DAMON: You’re right. Another dead end; let’s go back. (Just as they are about to turn around, Damon spots something) Wait… do you see that?

KAI: Hell no! I’m not falling again.

DAMON: No, I’m serious. Look... (they see something shiny. Damon takes a closer look, picks it up) It’s Donovan’s badge.

KAI: So, they were definitely here with us…Anything else?

DAMON: Nop, just the badge.

KAI: Well, let’s head back, see what we all make of it. This place is really starting to freak me out… the vibes, you know?

DAMON: Yeah, I know… (they speed vamp back to the meeting point and reunite with Alaric and Iker).

ALARIC: Find anything? Cause we did…

DAMON: Stefan?!

ALARIC: No, this (shows him the bag with the memorabilia).

DAMON: What is all this?

IKER: (Teasing) You know perfectly well what it is…

KAI: All too well, sweetheart.

DAMON: At least I didn’t get married in a tutu, princess.

KAI: That princess thing got old like an hour ago. You really need to start thinking outside the box, Damon.

DAMON: That’s right! Yes! A box! I remember a box!

ALARIC: Great! And…?

DAMON: That’s it, that’s all I got.

ALARIC: (Sarcastic) Very helpful, Damon.

DAMON: Well, we also found this… (shows them Matt’s badge)

ALARIC: Interesting… still not a lot to go on, but that confirms we were all here. Listen, guys, I may have a theory…I still don’t know how, or why, but I believe we actually did go to Britney’s house, the real Britney; at some point during the night…Look at the props; they don’t seem fake… Which brings me to the conclusion, that we must have stolen them from her house. Now, as for why? … I have no fucking idea, and I can live without knowing…

KAI: The Britney Spears?! Nah, there’s no way we would be able to break into her house!

DAMON: But what if we didn’t break in… What if, and just hear me out on this, Sheriff Donovan pulled the cop card… and that’s how they let us in.

ALARIC: Matt wouldn’t do that.

DAMON: Maybe not sober, but…

ALARIC: Still, they wouldn’t have let a wasted cop and his pals in for some tea.

KAI: But if we sneaked in… let’s say, hiding inside a police car?

IKER: A police car! Yes! I told you I remembered something about a police car; it was one of those suv ones…

DAMON: We must have stolen one…

IKER: Wouldn’t be a long shot.

DAMON: Don’t those things have trackers though? They would have found us in seconds.

KAI: Not if you know how to disable a tracking device… which I do.

DAMON: Why am I not surprised…

KAI: I had a lot of time on my hands, figured I’d learn a trick or two.

ALARIC: Okay, this is getting even more confusing. I say we go back to the villa, for all we know Stefan might be back. We can check the hotel parking lot, see if we find a stolen cop car; work it from there.

KAI: Agreed. We really need to get out of this place; freaking me TF out. Uber’s on me. 

(They wait for a while, until their uber arrives. As they drive away, on one of the top floor windows, a freaky clown waves goodbye).

Cut to – The boy’s hotel villa. They walk inside, and hear the piano playing…

 DAMON: It’s that damn monkey! (They walk into the living room, only to find Britney Spears, in the flesh, playing the piano).

BRITNEY: Hello, boys…

KAI: Britney…the Britney Spears…?

BRITNEY: The one and only…

KAI: (Totally fanboying) Oh my god! 

DAMON: (Totally fanboying too) OMG! OMG! OMG! It’s Britney, bitches!

BRITNEY: Aw, you’re  sweet… 

(takes a gun out of her purse and points it at them). Now, shut the fuck up and tell me where the hell is the rest of my stuff!!

ALARIC: Wow, wow, wow… please, don’t shoot! It’s right here (hands her the bag, she looks through it).

BRITNEY: You’re lucky I like to handle somethings on my own. You’d all be dead if my security were involved…

DAMON: (Still fanboying) Lucky… I love that song!

BRITNEY: Now, where is Stefan? We need to settle this little feud of ours, once and for all.

ALARIC: Wouldn’t we all like to know…

BRITNEY: What do you mean? He was with you (referring to Damon), the cop, and the howling boy, at my house last night.

DAMON: Wait, so, neither of these guys were there with us?

BRITNEY: No… but if you had brought him (referring to Iker), maybe things could have turned out differently (winks at Iker).

Tell you what, boys, I’ll help you find him. As long as you help me get my long-awaited trophy win, on “Mr. Bon Jovi”.

DAMON: Wait… so that concert story; that was you? 

I thought Stefan was messing with me!

BRITNEY: Oh, that was me… Prick made me think he was Bon Jovi, I was totally fangirling, so embarrassing. That was before I got really famous, and I met the real John. Made me feel like a fool when I told John we had met before, and he was like: “uhm, no we haven’t”. So, as you can understand, it was only fitting that I would get him back for that.

DAMON: I’m with you, Brit, Stefan is a dick!

ALARIC: Can you give us any insight on what happened at your place? Might help us figure out where he is.

BRITNEY: I know from my security cameras that they used a police suv to gain access. Then you (referring to Damon), did some weird eye thing to my security team, and they just stood there, doing nothing. I also know from the cameras, that Stefan took my babies Justi and Kevi (referring to the baby elephant and the monkey). And you (to Damon), stole the memorabilia I had from my videos… My red leather suit better be intact, or I’mma kill you!

DAMON: Oops…

IKER: Don’t you dare say: “I did it again”...

BRITNEY: Wait… I think I might know where he is… Back when we first met, we were here, in Vegas. He took me to this spot in the desert he liked to go to; he’s such a weirdo… Anyway, maybe he went there? You know, for old times’ sake…

ALARIC: Maybe… but it’s gonna be hard to find a “spot” in the middle of the desert, and we don’t have much time; our plane is leaving in like 3 hours.

BRITNEY: Well, if you want to go back home with the rest of your pack, you really don’t have much of a choice.

KAI: There’s no way we are going to find him if he is in the middle of the desert.

BRITNEY: It’s Britney, bitch! 

Of course we’ll find him. Listen, you boys take the cop van and follow mine, I’ll lead you to the spot.

IKER: Except, we don’t know where it is…

BRITNEY: (Smirks) But I do… (shows them live cctv footage from inside the cop car) See, boys, I have eyes everywhere! It’s in the parking lot.

 (They go to the car and find Matt and Tyler inside, a cellphone in Matts hand, and a lot of empty bottles lying around. As expected, neither of them remember anything about the previous night; it’s a miracle they even know who they are. The only thing they keep repeating, and cracking up about is, Rawson Neal Psychiatric Hospital. They are clearly either still drunk or high on something. They decide it’s best they stay behind and get some rest in the villa. Damon, Iker, Alaric and Kai get in the cop car, and follow Britney to the site.)

 BRITNEY: Okay, boys, this is the spot.  (They get out of the car, start looking around. She get’s out as well, points the gun at them). Did you really think I was going to help you?! Aw, cuties…no one messes with the Brit! I gave Stefan his, now it’s time for yours …

KAI: But, Britney, what about us (referring to himself, Iker, and Alaric)? We didn’t do anything!

BRITNEY: Guilty by association… Now, give me your clothes, and the car keys… Quick, or I swear I’ll shoot! (They hand her the stuff; she gets in her car. Just as she is about to take-off, she opens her window) If you want to know where Stefan is; it’s easy, he’s exactly where he belongs… Good luck trying to find an uber to pick you up here… And, by the way, sweetheart (talking to Damon), there’s only one princess of pop, and it ain’t you. 

(Gives them the finger, and drives away).

DAMON: (Looking heartbroken) But… Britney…

ALARIC: (Sarcastic) Well, isn’t this peachy!

IKER: At least she left us our phones.

ALARIC: There is no way we are going to catch that flight, or find Stefan any time soon. I think it’s time to call Caroline…

DAMON: Shit! Shit! Shit!... Fine… I’ll do it… (dials). Care, it’s Damon… Listen ...The bachelor party got a little crazy and, well...we lost Stefan.

BONNIE: Uhm…think we might have a problem of our own…

DAMON: Bon?

BONNIE: It’s me, I think… Anyway; the bachelorette got a little crazy too, and, well… we lost Caroline.

TVD 9x16 (part 2) coming next! Hope you stop by, read and enjoy! =)

[tsarinastorm]

Season 7-Adam Sackler/Reader-Chapter 2

Word count: 3.5k

Ratings: Explicit.

Chapter 1

Adam watches you walk away stunned, and he is fuming at Jessa. He feels like breaking something. Right now. Fuckin’shit. He gets up to leave, pushing his chair out aggressively, once outside he screams. He turns arounds and sees the last person he wants to be near right now: Jessa.

“She was a fucking bitch. I did you a favor. It never would have worked anyway,” she says as she cools takes a puff of her cigarette.

“No, Jessa you’re the fucking bitch here! You only think of yourself and you need to make sure that everyone around you is just as fucking miserable as you are! Dammit! You destroy everything you touch!”

               He punches the closest brick wall, and his hand begins to bleed. That is going to hurt in the morning, he thinks. Jessa throws the cig down, and grabs his injured hand with one of her hands, then touches his face with her other hand.

“Listen, Adam. We have a connection, something that no one else has or understands. That has to mean something, and you know it.”

“Jessa, the only connection we have is common unhealthy behaviors, Hannah-hating, and fucking. The only thing we’ve had left out of those for a long time is fucking and now we won’t have that! You’ve humiliated me, which tells me everything I need to know about how you really feel about me!”

Jessa looks like she’s trying not to cry while simultaneously being infuriated. Adam stalks off thinking to himself that he’s blown his chance with his dream girl. Jessa runs after him saying, “Adam, come back!”

“I should have said this long ago: I never want to see you again Jessa!”

Apparently the last comment was enough to stop Jessa from trailing behind him. He hadn’t been this tempted to drink in years. He reminds himself that he has auditions coming up and he can’t risk his career, or it will all be worth nothing. He’s sure him becoming a drunk mess won’t help him win over Y/N.  Imploding the rest of his life won’t fix the situation. He then remembers that he has Y/N’s number, and he smirks. He won’t call Y/N tonight or tomorrow because she probably needs time to cool off, but he will get a hold of her, hope is not lost.

It had been four days since your explosive conversation with Adam. For the first two days, you had heard nothing and that was oddly comforting. The silence allowed you to work on forgetting how you had felt about him, and gave your attraction to him time to cool. All of that was lost on the third day, when he began calling you. You know it was him because he’d now left you eleven voicemails asking to talk, or for you to call him back, both requests were accompanied by streams of curse words and the sound of things breaking in the background.

There is a part of you that wants to breakdown and reach out to him, to see where this connection goes. But the rational part of you refuses to go down that road. If he could do that to Hannah, he could do that to you. You know tons of details about his relationship with Hannah because of her writing, and you know it was full of issues. Then there was the apparent soap level drama of Adam and Jessa, then throw Hannah into the mix, and you’d be asking for a load of headaches. You also considered just hooking up with him because you had never felt such a raw desire for a man, you tried to convince yourself that you could fuck him and get it out of your system. You subsequently reminded yourself that you’d likely not be able to stop at just one time, and you’d be directly inserting yourself into that mess. You could be just friends with him, but you knew you’d likely only feel stronger about him than you already did and you’d end up getting hurt.

You put your internal dialogue aside as you adjust your skirt, and make your way from your first meeting of the day: your editor. The conversation went as it did typically. She had suggestions for your work that is about to be published, and you made notes from her grammar checks. Now to meet with your agent, even though you knew what that meeting would consist of: planning the new book tour, promotional schedules, paired with strong hints for you to immediately start writing your next work.

“Y/N! Y/N” You hear and turn around to see Adam following you. Great, guess there goes your whole plan of ignoring him and continuing to repress your feelings. He catches up to you easily.

“Are you stalking me? How did you know I’d be here?” you say in an annoyed voice. You’d read Hannah’s works and you knew all about how he would just turn up in places she’d be. Now you think that you must be his new target. How were supposed to ignore him and move on when he refused to give you space.

“I googled you and I found out who your agent was, and figured there was a good chance that you’d be around her office.” He says as he keeps walking with you, your attempts to outwalk him fail because his long legs make it easy for him to keep pace with you. He keeps on talking as you say nothing.

“Look, I am so sorry for what Jessa did. That’s a bad situation but it’s over now. It has been over for a long time. I should have told you who I was to begin with, I’m sorry for that but I was afraid you’d shut me out. I was right about that part.”

“Adam, I really don’t want to be involved in your melodrama. It’s not my thing. It has never been my thing, and it will never be my thing. You must know that this can go nowhere, I’m friends with Hannah, and I know way more about your relationship than anyone should. I guess I’ll see you when I see you.” You walk away. Once you’re a reasonable distance away, you look back and notice that he stopped following you. You feel bad and you kind of wanted him to keep following you, but you know it’s for the best.

After being pushed away by Y/N, Adam goes to the only person he thinks can help. And one of the people who doesn’t want to get involved: Hannah. He figures maybe Hannah can give him advice, console him or something. Now, he’s sitting her apartment again watching as Grover plays with some baby blocks. Hannah hands him a glass of milk and sits down.

“So, are you going to tell me what’s going on, Adam? Or do I have to guess?”

“Hannah, I really fucked things up with Y/N. I saw her today and she couldn’t get away from me fast enough.”

“Having one of your ‘exes’ drop bombshells on her in a public place is probably not a good way to start a relationship.  I’m sure she’ll cool down with time. She’s really guarded, I’m her friend and I never know what she really thinks or feels. I’ll get hints from her writing but aside from that, she usually keeps it all to herself.”

“I know if I could just get her to talk to me, or really listen, things could work. Hannah, I know I’ve only known her for a short time and only scratched the surface, but I already feel things for her that I never thought I could feel. I’m going fucking insane here.”

“Look if you want to talk to her, or more precisely, talk at her: we have writing group tomorrow. Just stop by after. I’ll be there and maybe that will make her more agreeable to hear you out.”

Adam nods his head and thinks that may work, or it may make Y/N think he’s more a stalker than she already does.  He supposes that’s a risk he’ll have to take. He can’t get her off of his mind.

“But before we agree to go through with this, are things really over with you and Jessa? Because I’m not going out on a limb to get my friend to give you another chance if you’re going to run back to Jessa in a few months after your first fight.”

“It’s really over, I let it continue for too long anyway. I told her that we had no real connection and I never want to see her again. I’m pretty sure she’s skipped town like she always does when she’s fucked things up.”

“I’m holding you to that Adam. I’m doing this because you deserve to be happy too. I meant that when I told you at my party. I also think you and Y/N could be really happy together, but she is very stubborn so you’ll have to deal with that.” Adam can’t help but laugh at that. Both Hannah and Jessa were extremely stubborn and so was he. He knew he could work with stubborn.

You pull your jacket up closer around your neck as the wind blows and gives you a slight chill. You listen to Hannah go on and on about her current life dramas (something about a girl she knew from undergrad who’s been published, you think) and about how she worries about Grover. At least being around Hannah gets you out of your own head for a while as you were instantly sucked into her issues. When you look up, you see Adam walking your way. He must really be stalking you. You grit your teeth in response. Hannah speaks first.

“Hi, Adam!” Adam grumbles something in response to her as he focuses on you instead.

“Y/N, will you please just listen to me. We can talk over dinner or something. Whatever you want to do. If you never want to see me again after that, I’ll stay away.” Adam begs. You desperately try to look away. You can feel Hannah watching you, and you wonder why she is being so quiet about this. It’s her ex-boyfriend, begging you to spend time with him. Her silence is then broken as she turns to face you.

“Look, Y/N, just go to dinner with him. Even if you don’t want to, it may be the only way to get him to leave you alone.”

“Are you sure it’s okay with you? It’s not weird for you, or anything?”

“It’s totally fine. Adam and I are friends now. You and I are friends. I want you to go. Go, and have fun.”

Hannah waves you away and she goes in the other direction, leaving you and Adam alone. You look at Hannah as she walks away, then set your gaze back on Adam, “Fine. One dinner. Take me to a place that still serves breakfast. Breakfast food is my favorite, in case you care to know. And you have to promise to leave me the fuck alone after this if I ask you to.”

“Pinky promise.”

Adam nods, and offers you his pinky. You shake your head and start walking. Every time you think you have him figured out, you learn something about him that throws you for a loop. You and Adam make your way to a small diner in his part of Brooklyn. Neither of you talk along the way, but the tension can be felt in the air. The diner is certainly not what you were expecting at all. Adam said it’s one of his favorites, and you could see why. It looked homey, like the type of place you could find in any small town in America. It was a nice change from the normal tempo of New York’s restaurants. You order coffee, and a breakfast platter of bacon, and pancakes. Adam orders biscuits and gravy. When the waitress goes to the next table, you raise your eyebrows at Adam and say, “So start talking. Make me understand your past relationships and why I should give you a chance. Because I really don’t understand this insanity.”

He recounts his history with Hannah, the start as fuck buddies, and how that blossomed into a relationship. You’re shocked to learn that he was hit by a car while trying to get away from Hannah after she decided she didn’t want him to move in and blindsided him with the news at Jessa’s surprise wedding. She had left those details out of her writing. He talks about a girl named Natalia that he briefly dated who called him out in public but he probably deserved it, the next tale is him helping Hannah with her OCD, followed by his first role on Broadway, and Hannah’s unilateral decision to go to Iowa. Then he gets to a woman named Mimi Rose from Hannah’s time in Iowa and how she dumped him, and he gets to Jessa. You ask him to sum up his emotions for both of them. You can’t help but worry that he’ll one day go back to Jessa or Hannah, and if you’re going to move forward in anyway, you need to know his feelings. You sat and listened to quietly until now, and you were entitled to one question.

“Can you tell me how you feel about both of those relationships now?” You finally ask in a voice that’s soft, not combative.

“What Hannah and I had was real and intense. Because of the intensity, I think we both held on longer than what was healthy, or at least, I did. I assumed what if it was real, it meant it was forever. I liked that she needed me, and she’s a bit self-centered so as soon as I did my own thing, she checked out. We both were attached to ‘us’ for the wrong reasons and ultimately kept each other from growing.”

“I actually understand that. It’s easy to think that because you feel something real it can’t go away or change. And it’s understandable that the intensity of your feelings can blind you to reality. Happens to people all of the time.”

“Has it happened to you, too?”

“Since you’ve been honest about this, I’ll be honest too. Yes, there was a guy I fell for, hard. We were on-again, off-again. It was real love: passionate, poetic, and raw, et cetera. It didn’t work out, we were always on different pages, but for the longest time I thought it would somehow last, that somehow it would all work out in the end. Then once I was outside of it for long enough, I realized it wasn’t healthy and you can love someone deeply and they can still not be the love of your life, or the one you’re meant to end up with. Tell me about Jessa.”

“Jessa and I bonded over our addictions right after Hannah dumped me. We understood each other and we both wanted to screw over Hannah. We encouraged each other’s bad habits; it was like when two fucking hurricanes meet. Or fire and powder as Shakespeare would say. I mistook our similarities for compatibility. It was like seeing yourself in another person and it seemed right for a while, but I was really seeing all the worst parts of myself being reflected back at me. I ended our relationship a long time ago but she would turn up at my place, and I would let her stay, regret it, then the cycle would repeat. I let her stay because it was easier than finding something real, or something good with someone else.”

“And it was easier than being alone, right?” He looks at you and nods. You feel the warmth of the back of his hand gently brush yours. Still feels like electricity as it had when he touched your knee that night in the bar. You find your hand moving towards his without permission. The waitress then sits down the check in between you and that action breaks the spell, you move your hand away swiftly.

“So what are you guys now then?”

“Nothing now, we’re completely over. I told her I never want to see her again that night at Hannah’s party after what she did. She’s skipped town like she normally does once she’s ruined someone’s life.”

“How do you know that you won’t end up in the same cycle again with Jessa or Hannah?”

“Because I only want you. I know what better is now.”

“Well my opinion is still the same. I don’t want that drama and I won’t ruin my friendship for a man. But maybe one day it will work out. I’ll stay open to that possibility, just not now. I mean we can still talk and stuff, just no relationship.” He walks you back to your apartment, your shoulders can’t help but bump into each other along the way. He begins singing some ridiculous song that he said he had to sing once at an audition. When you arrive at your building, you turn back to him and give him a weak smile.

“See you around, Adam.”

“See ya around, kid.”

You’re running later than what you’d like, but it’s a Saturday morning so you decide that it’s not that big of a deal. As you exit your building, you see a tall, broad shouldered man with dark hair leaning against the gate. You think he looks a lot like Adam from behind but you think it can’t be him. Adam would have no reason to be here. The man turns around when he hears you approach.

“Adam, what are you doing here?”

“I came to see you, obviously. What are you doing today?”

“Just errands…what is your deal? Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“You know what. Waiting outside my building to see me.”

“I happen to really fucking like you and I want to spend time with you. I want to know more about you and you said we could still talk,” he informs you in an exasperated voice as he moves his hands to emphasize his point.

“I’m not interested in anything romantic. I just can’t do that. I can’t sacrifice who I am. But we can be friends, I suppose. And I did say we could talk… You can join me if you promise to behave.”

“Scout’s honor”

“Were you even a scout?” He laughs and shakes his head no. The two of you begin your day. You go to the grocery store where you learn that he really loves milk for some reason, and you tell him that you have no domestic skills at all as you pick up some microwave dinners. You buy yourself a bouquet of flowers, then he pulls out one bloom and puts it behind your ear so it rests against your hair. When you’re looking around at a market, he mentions again that he can make furniture. You sit down at a little café and you each grab a quick sandwich. Then he asks you why you ghostwrite when you’re already successful.

“As a matter of fact, I happen to ghostwrite because it gives me a change of pace, and a way to get out of my own head for a while. It’s a great cure for writer’s block. It also pays well and I happen to like the supplemental funds in my bank account…Now I can ask you about your career since you opened up the door.” You say as you take a bite.

“That is how a conversation typically works, Y/N…SHIT! They put mustard on my sandwich.”

You ignore his outburst and continue with your question, “How do you choose your roles? You clearly don’t do traditional or mainstream.”

“I look for something that makes me feel something, something that’s real. You know the kind of thing that people can watch, feel it deep down, and it stays in their minds for a while. For me, that is art, and isn’t that the point of it all?” You ponder that answer for a minute before moving on.

“What’s your biggest fear?”

He thinks about his answer for a minute he leans in towards you as he reveals, “To live a life that’s meaningless, to sell myself out.”

Wow, you weren’t expecting him to go that deep, you lean in, putting your elbows on the small table in front of you and look at him to decipher if he was being a sarcastic ass or being serious. His hands shake your arms and he looks you straight into your eyes with his amber ones as they bore into you, he adds, “What’s your biggest fear, kid?”

“Kid? Are you ever going to explain that nickname? I fear failure more than anything. I also fear that one day I’ll wake up, be old, and realize that I’ve never did all things I wanted to do and it’s too late.”

“Then make sure you do all of those things now.”

You slowly make your way back to your apartment building as the two of you chitchat the whole way, you don’t want the conversation to end. You enjoy Adam’s presence more than you would ever openly admit. Today was a really good day. When you get to your door, Adam catches you off-guard by leaning in and gently kissing your forehead. He then turns and walks away. You’re half infuriated that he kissed you, thereby breaking the friend thing you’d agreed on, and the other half of you wanted to melt into him or chase after him for a real kiss. Instead, you turn the door into your apartment.

You feel Adam’s cock thrusting into you from behind, his pelvis grinding into your ass, while you’re on your hands and knees below him. His finger crush into your hips so deep that you’re sure that you’ll have bruises there for the next few days. Then as one hand remains on your hip, the other hand slaps your ass with a whack! You can’t help but moan and ask for another one, harder than the first. He switches hands and slaps the other side of your ass. You can feel your orgasm building as the pleasure increases and you feel your hips buck back into him as his hips slam into yours, forming a rhythm. You hear him groan in your ear, and it sounds delicious. He reaches his hand down to play with your clit, and you moan loudly and place your hand over his as you rock into his cock and hand. Your climax is moments away and you can feel your muscles clench, and you swear you can taste the pleasure.

Then you wake up, alone in your bed. You’re dripping wet from your dream, and you have your thighs pressed together for some friction.

Jesus

, you think, you need to get this out of your system. Isn’t it enough that Adam has taken over your waking thoughts, but now he’s taken over your dream conscious as well? You knew you shouldn’t have gone to dinner with him, you knew this would happen. You were falling for him, and you couldn’t stop yourself.

@og-selene @shesakillerkween

[quakerjoe]

Look Up the word SOCIALISM. Please. It has fuck-all nothing to do with guns.

I ran across this comment:

“I am for gun rights.. does that make me less socialist?”

Are you fucking kidding me? There are really people THIS stupid. This is why America is about to collapse like the Soviet Union did. It’s not because we were outspent like they were, it’s because we’re suffering under TWO pandemics right now- Covid-19 AND TOTAL FUCKERY because far, FAR too many people are just that ignorant.

As a veteran, I was trained to use firearms. They’re tools for hunting and killing. End of story. Want one? I’m all for it! Everyone who’s willing to put in the effort to train and get a license for one should have one if they really want to. I’m all in, hoss.

However, when you’re equating having a killing tool that makes it way too easy to put someone to death with alongside a political style of governance, you’re a fucking idiot. Only in #Murica do people have this issue. By my account, the 2nd Amendment should be shit-canned. It’s outdated and nobody takes it seriously anymore. How so?

“A well regulated militia...”

Let’s stop right there. When this was written, children, there was no standing army in the new USA. At best, each state was, in theory, expected to raise their own militias and even then, they owned their own weapons that they had to buy themselves (and we’re talking the same rifles they also used for hunting with). A British Regular of the time, a professional, well-trained soldier, could fire 3 rounds per minute. A yokel from some Colonial/State militia? One. Maybe two at best. Training was nothing less than lax back then and it was insanely expensive. 

To the point- if you want to join a state militia, i.e. the National Guard, then fine; own a gun. In the more modern sense, if you want to join a branch of our fine armed forces, then you’ll train and you can have a gun. No problemo. Once you’re discharged and leave, you can transfer your training creds and easily get a civilian license to own and operate one. Easy-peasy. Right?

But no. Not in #Murica. Here, people no longer read and deteriorated cognitive skills only let too many yokels retain what they want to hear, like NRA talking points on FOX fuckin’ “News”. These selfish cunts are so wound, stupid and bent on being free-range ammosexuals. What the fuck are they afraid of? I’ll tell you.

Smart people.

The whingers on the far right... motherfuckers one and all... with their bibles in one hand and guns in the other... They fail to know what hypocrisy is here. Be that as it may, they’re scared of smart people. They know that more often than not, they’re ability to have an intelligent conversation is rather stilted and smart people can kick their asses when it comes to how politics work, what Jesus actually said in that bible they never read, and how viruses work for that matter. These wank-socks need their guns to make them right in an argument.

To compound things, these knuckle-dragging, inbred, mouth-breathers are mostly a bunch of “nigger haters” and they know that the “Justice” system will continue to jail the Black Community for the most minor infractions, essentially re -instituting slavery while they can literally go into Federal property, armed, take it over, vandalize it, and then leave scott-free. Precedence has been set. They can shoot Black people with little to no repercussions. Precedence has been set.

I could go on and on, but I’d like to bring this question to your attention: What the unholy fuck does that have to do with socialism? Eisenhower was not only a president but he was a general during WWII and his policies were very socialist. By today’s standards, the man would be what right-wing fuckwits would call a “radical leftist”. So would Abraham Lincoln.

Capitalism, as it stands today, un-regulated and un-tethered, has done what for the USA? Massive class warfare and overwhelmingly unfair practices by the top financial elites? Yep. All the rules of olde that were put in place after the Great Depression that were designed to keep that from happening again have been dismantled since Reagan’s time and mostly by the GOP while the Democrats say and do little to nothing about it and they’re only getting more complacent about it. I’m not saying that Capitalism is bad; far from it. However, if it is left to its own devices, it will work like a cancer, not like a working form of governance. No system is perfect, but Capitalism is the most vulnerable, especially in a nation with a base in democracy like the republic that the USA used to have and doesn’t anymore. Once disinterest and complacency set in, the rich and powerful will swipe democracy out from under you like a table cloth without a care as to how many dishes they break or how big the mess will be; you won’t see it coming and you’ll be the one left having to clean up after. The food and drink will be gone along with the silverware, but the mess is all yours to enjoy. You know- like NOW.

Switzerland has a government a lot like ours. It’s a Democratic Republic. “Everyone owns guns!” Um, true to a point. Men do. Women do. BUT. They’re all trained. Come legal age and graduation from high school, you’re in the army, Fred. You do your bit for country and then when you get out, you keep your gun. NO AMMO. Repeat- NO AMMO. That’s all under lock and key where you, as a reservist for life, would go to train periodically.

Chicken-shit fuckwits in #Murica are too fucking scared and/or lazy to join the armed forces or law enforcement. BUT they still want their guns without having to earn the right or privilege. THAT is what pisses me off. No “militia” skills, but boy they’re fast and happy to endanger everyone else just so they can sit out in the woods with their friends, shoot beer cans and have circle-jerks around the ol’ campfire while talking about race cars and titties and swapping jokes about how many “niggers” it takes to do something.

It’s not just a redneck stereotype; it’s the real deal. Those industrial-grade gun fuckers out in Michigan who thought it’d be just fine to “occupy” the capital while armed make the rest of us who earned the right and privilege to have firearms look bad. You also know damn well that there really aren’t BLACK people acting like these infantile taint-barnacles either. You don’t see hordes of women packin’ heat on the way to the clinic for a routine checkup, do you? They ought to, especially when there are anti-abortion fucks out there ranting about shit they know nothing about, spewing their lies by twisting biblical verse when in fact the bible is NOT anti-abortion. It is only mentioned ONCE, and the verse is FOR abortion. Imagine a woman coming in for a pap, palming a .357 on her way through a crowd of these ignorant cultists who think they’re doing “the lord’s work”...

All of this shit isn’t particular to any form of government except for American-style “democracy” where uninformed opinions are now given the same merit and weight as that of a well studied, well informed fact. Anyone who wants to “make America great again” would have noticed that the policies in place that made us a world power to begin with were all backed by SOCIALIST principles, providing a regulated and more fair framework on which the gears of capitalism were attached to run like a smooth, well tuned machine. Today, that framework is shot to pieces and the whole system works more like the junk drawer in your kitchen.

Today, #Murica has a framework made of PLUTOCRACY, welded together with FASCISM and let’s not forget that it is painted in Red Socialism for the Wealthy, White Supremacy, and Blue, sunny-skies of Nationalism that keeps the masses proud of this country because of what we were, not who we truly are. Those days are far gone; days when the NRA was FOR GUN REGULATIONS and were all for proper education, safety and training, in an era where SOCIALISM built our infrastructure, rich fucks were taxed heavily to keep them from gaining too much power over the masses, and we were on the rise in industry, sciences, and education.

Today, smart people are feared, intelligence is out of fashion, and pride in how stupid and ignorant one is has become the national pastime. As a nation, its people are arrogant and endlessly selfish and too stupid to know to punch up when punching down is easier because Americans, in general, are lazy. Even worse, they’re offended by everything while BEING one of the most offensive people to wander the Earth.

Don’t believe me? Keep an eye on the comments to this post...

[softest-cinnamon-roll]

“[text] Hey, it’s me. I heard banging noises and I’m terrified. Please save me. and “I wonder if I still have that ouija board…”

“[text] Hey, it’s me. I heard banging noises and I’m terrified. Please save me. and “I wonder if I still have that ouija board…”

“I wonder if I still have that Ouija Board”

Deep down, Eddie knew it had been a bad idea to pull out the Ouija board that the losers had collectively bought him for his birthday last year. Of course, it had been a simple joke, something for them all to laugh about in the years to come. Eddie was never meant to actually use it.

Yet, he had, and now he was seriously regretting it. The whole place was cold, colder than it had ever been, and Eddie was beginning to freak the fuck out.

He had been bored, extremely so, therefore he had pulled out the board and set up some candles around the table before turning off the lights. At first, nothing exciting happened, and it was simply just Eddie holding onto the planchette tight in his grip.

“Is anyone here with me?”

No response.

“If anyone is here, can you please spell out your name?”

Nothing. Nada.

It had been an hour and Eddie was still as bored as he had been back then. One more question, he would ask one more question and then he would call it a night, pack the board up and forget about it for the rest of his life. Well, forget about it until Bev or Richie brought it up on some drunk night out in the future.

“Okay, uh, is anyone here with me? Anyone at all?” Eddie asked, his voice a little shaky and he gripped onto the planchette even tighter. There was nothing at least, not at first. A few seconds passed and Eddie was about to pack the board away when the planchette moved under his hand.

Eddie gasped, moving his hand away from the planchette as though he had been burned, scrambling backwards so his back was hitting the wall. His face was pale white at this point as he stared at the board still sitting on his coffee table. “I- fuck,” he breathed and his eyes widened as his breath showed up in the air. It was then that he realised how cold the room at become and his heart rate picked up tenfold.

“This is crazy,” he breathed, running a hand through his hair. “This is insane. I imagined that, right? I just- was wanting something to happen so badly that I did it on my own…” As Eddie continued to ramble to himself, the candles in the room blew out, leaving the room in total darkness. “Fuck!”

This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. The whole Ouija board thing was meant to be fake, something used in movies to scare kids to not mess with the afterlife. That was the whole reason the losers bought Eddie the board in the first place, as a fucking joke. It was never really meant to work!

His thoughts were broken off by a loud bang coming from his kitchen and Eddie felt tears well up in his eyes, panic flooding in his chest. Oh god, what had he done? What the fuck had he been thinking? He was about to die alone in his house after being stupid and playing with the Ouija board without having any friends present.

Eddie looked around the room for some kind of saving grace, and like by magic, he spotted his phone. Without making too much movement, Eddie scrambled for it, taking it in his shaking hands and unlocking it. It took a few times, but he managed, pulling up Richie’s number and typing out a quick, panicked, message.

[To Richie] Hey, it’s me. I heard banging noises and I’m terrified. Please save me. - Eddie

Immediately, the tick appeared next to the message to show it had been read, followed by the little bubble at the bottom, highlighting that Richie was texting back. It didn’t take long, and soon Richie’s response appeared underneath his first message.

[To Eddie] Eds what the fuck are you talking about? Is there someone in your house? Do I need to call 911. - Rich

[To Richie] No! No 911. I found the Ouija Board. Please help.

There was no further reply from Richie and Eddie let out a soft sob as the cupboards and drawers in the room started banging aggressively. He tugged on his hair, praying that this was all a dream, that he would wake up in his bed in the morning in his bed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Suddenly, the banging stopped, leaving Eddie’s apartment in an eerie silence. All that could be heard was the harsh breathing Eddie was making, and he covered the palm of his hand over his mouth to try and stay as quiet as he could. In hindsight, Eddie should have realised it didn’t matter how loud he was, if there was a demon in his house he was going to die whether he was loudly breathing or not.

The sound of the door to his place opening caused his heart to jump into his throat, “H-Hello?” He called, carefully moving away from the door.

“Eds?”

Eddie let out a huge sigh of relief as Richie appeared in the doorway, eyes wide and glancing around the room at the mess. “Richie-” he breathed, standing up and taking a step towards him. He barely made it two steps when the window to his living room burst open and Richie was thrown across the room due to the force, his head just missing the sharp end of his coffee table. “Richie!”

A groan echoed across the room and Eddie exhaled that Richie was still alive. He wanted to go over to him, but was scared something would happen to him or to Richie. “Eds,” Richie’s voice called, groggy from the impact. “You- you need to end the interaction with the board!”

As soon as RIchie said it, Eddie felt stupid for not figuring it out before. His head whipped to the board and Eddie sucked in a deep breath before he lunged for the board and the planchette. Objects in the room started to move around fast, throwing themselves at Eddie in an attempt to stop him reaching the board.

With the planchette in his grip, Eddie scrunched his eyes shut and shoved it forward on the board so it was covering over the ‘goodbye’ word on the board. “GOODBYE!” He screamed, keeping his eyes scrunched shut as everything in the room went still.

“Holy shit,” Richie breathed, his head popping up from where he had landed on the ground. “Jesus Eds, you crazy?”

Eddie rushed over to Richie, checking all his body and his head for any signs of injury, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Richie shook his head, a smile on his lips regardless of the shit that had gone down mere minutes ago. “I’m fine, just sore. More importantly, what the hell?” He asked. “Why would you, are you really that insane?”

“I was bored,” Eddie admitted, looking down at his feet and Richie squeezed his hand, comforting him. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have.”

Shaking his head, Richie cupped Eddie’s cheek, “Don’t, it’s fine. As long as you’re alright that’s all that matters.” He groaned, sitting up properly. “Why don’t we pour ourselves a drink and focus on cleaning this place up? Maybe even getting rid of the damn board?”

Eddie laughed, nodding his head. “That sounds like an amazing plan.”

* * * * * 

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