#yes this may just be me wanting to mother billy

[wonderjanga]

Biblical Marvel

This is connected to the Revival post. If you don’t want to go find that, let me give a quick summary of it. In that post, Mary and Freddy die a lot in their Marvel forms. As a result of this, Billy has to revive them a lot. It honestly stresses the poor boy out too because at the end of the Revival post, Billy finds some grey hairs. So, yeah.

Anyways, so people think Marvel is god sent in human form to protect them. (Let me also connect this to the Billy is Really Old post too. In that post, Billy has been a hero since 1940.) It explains why he hasn’t aged over the almost 80 years of him being a hero. Not only that but once, a homeless person asked him to turn water to wine, and he did, though that’s more a of Jesus thing.

Speaking of Jesus, some people think Mary and Junior are Jesus split in two. I mean, Mary has blue eyes (from C.C.) and brown hair (From Marilyn) for Christ’s sake. Not only that but her name is Mary. Maybe Jesus/Mary is honoring his/her mother. And as for Junior, maybe Mary took the looks and he took the gender?

Marvel: *sorting through letters and replying to a bunch of fan mail while sitting at a table in the kitchen.*

Wonder Woman: *Sitting next to him, eating ice cream*

Flash: *zips over and is now leaning on Marvel’s shoulder looking at the fan mail* “Dude, is that fan mail?”

Marvel: “Yup.” *finishes replying to a letter and putting it in the ‘done’ pile*

Flash: “How do even get fan mail? Do they know your address or something?”

Marvel: “Whiz Kid.” *picks up a super fancy looking letter*

WW: “Pardon?”

Marvel: “Whiz Kid. He gets them, and then he gives them to me.” *opens fancy letter*

Flash: “Wait, that little dude who does the radio show?”

Marvel: *Doesn’t like being called little but thinks it would be weird for him to defend himself while in Marvel form* “…Yeah… That ‘little’ dude.” *Takes out letter and reads it before sighing*

WW: “What’s wrong?”

Marvel: “The pope asked me to dinner again.” *sighs again and puts letter down on table to slouch and spin in his chair like a depressed little kid* “Now I gotta think of another excuse.”

WW: “The pope? As in the Catholic pope?” *eats bite of ice cream*

Flash: *looks to WW* “You know who the pope is?”

WW: *looks to Flash* “Yes? Flash, I may be from Themyscira, but I’m not completely ignorant of man’s world.” *looks to Billy* “If you don’t mind me asking, why don’t you want to go?”

Marvel: *shrugs as he slows his spinning to a stop, having came up with an excuse. Picks up letter and starts replying* “I don’t know. Do you want to have dinner with a guy you’ve never met?”

WW: “I see. I suppose not.” *goes back to eating ice cream*

or

Mary: *Watching a show on a TV in Mount Justice*

Robin!Tim: “Mary? Could you help me with something?”

Mary: *pauses show* “Huh? Yeah sure.” *flies over to Tim* “What’s the problem?”

Robin!Tim: *sitting at the kitchen at the counter with a laptop* “Can you tell me everything you know about angels? I’m writing a paper about it for school.”

Mary: “Oh. Uh, sure?” *Proceeds to talk Tim’s ear off for the next 15 minutes about angels and their different types and personalities and such*

Robin!Tim: *finishes paper* “Thanks a lot.” *closes computer and hops off chair*

Mary: “No problem, but why’d you ask me specifically? Why not use the internet?”

Robin!Tim: “Aren’t you like the primary source?” *heads back to his room*

Mary: *confused*

or

*Captain Marvel flies down and asks to pet a woman’s dog when all of a sudden, a mother holding a child runs up to him*

Mother: “Please cure my child!” *holds child out to him* “You can perform one of your miracles, right? Please!”

Marvel: “What?” *looks between Mother and child.*

Child: *looks really sick*

Marvel: *gets concerned at the sick child* “You haven’t taken him to a hospital?”

Mother: “It’s too expensive! Please! Just this once.”

Marvel: “Uuuuuuuuuuuhhhhh…” ‘Solomon! Help me!’

Solomon: ‘Repeat after me, Billy’ *proceeds to rattle off healing spell*

Marvel: *repeats spell and heals child*

Mother: “Oh, thank you! Thank you!” *hugs child tight* “I’ve never been much of a religious nut, but now I’ll have to start believing more. Thank you so much!”

Marvel: *Little confused by sudden mention of religion* “Your welcome? Have a good day, miss.” *floats off the ground, giving her a little wave before flying off*

or

*Freddy is hanging outside one of a meeting rooms in the Watchtower because he wasn’t allowed in due to the face he looked like a kid. He’s now talking to someone on the phone.

Junior: *talking on a phone he magicked from God knows where while floating a foot or two off the ground*

Kid Flash: *bored out of his mind, leaning against a wall, standing next to him cause he also wasn’t allowed in for the same reason*

Junior: *ends call*

Kid Flash: “Who were ya talking too?”

Junior: “My friend, Cain.”

Kid Flash: “What, like bible Cain?” *was joking*

Junior: “Yup.” *didn’t realize he was joking*

Kid Flash: “What seriously? The Cain from the Bible? The Cain that stabbed his brother? The Cain that’s immortal because he stabbed his brother?”

Junior: “Yup.” *starts typing on phone, a little too nonchalant about the conversation*

Kid Flash: “And Cap just lets you be friends with him?”

Junior: “Uh yeah? Why wouldn’t he? You know he’s friends with him too, right?”

Kid Flash: “Wait really? Shouldn’t they hate each other or something?”

Junior: “No? Cain’s pretty chill.”

Kid Flash: *blinks a couple times at that* “Huh.” *he seems a little surprised*

*The meeting ends and the heroes file out of the meeting room before Kid Flash can ask another question*

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hi! I want to start off by saying that I absolutely ADORE your stories!! ❤️💖💖😁😁😁😁💖💖❤️ And I also really hope you make a series out of the de-aged Captain Marvel au! The potential cuteness and absolute chaos is great!

Tim Drake no longer owned Drake Manor.

When his mother died, it had fallen out of his family's assets as his father had been less than prepared to run the company. When he woke that was.

At the time, Tim had been struggling with the loss and the craziness life had become. Moving to the penthouse was a necessary evil because otherwise, Bruce would have noticed that his "uncle" wasn't around as much. He hadn't really missed the manor, but it was a comfrot to see it there, unchaning since his family fell apart.

He always told himself he would repurchase it, making a mental note whenever he was at Wayne Manor, but he never did for one reason or another. The building remained on the market, but it was considered bad luck among the elites to purchase ancestral homes and the regular populance could never afford it.

Tim would sometimes glance at the manor while driving his motorbike to visit the Waynes. Occasionally, he would stop at the gate, staring at the building and reminiscing.

It would help clear his head on some dark nights. He silently promised himself that when he retired from the field, he would come back home and maybe raise his own family here. It was likely a lie because he couldn't imagine a life without being a vigilante, but it was a nice thought anyway.

He did that today, going for a drive to clear his head and aiming to stop in front of his old home to climb over the fence and sit under the same tree when he realized with a start that the yard had been cleaned up and a group of people were moving items into the building. Yanking out his phone, Tim did a quick search, feeling all the blood drain from his face when the listing now read: SOLD

An overwhelming sense of numbness erupted from his chest as he looked back up, watching the moving crew go to and fro with the belonging of the new owners.

Someone had bought his childhood home. Tim had allowed it to slip through his fingers.

He doesn't have time to process that before a child's laughter has him swinging his head to the top of the gate pillars. There, a boy with bright blue eyes is watching him, eating a giant swirl lollipop.

Tim's heart launches when he realizes how close the child is to tilting over as he yells "Hi mister!"

"Hey there." Tim says as calmly as he can speak."Are you okay up there? You can fall."

"I'm fine. It's really easy to climb up here."

Tim knows. He used the same method to follow Bruce and Jason as a kid. Still, it doesn't make it safe so he steps closer, just incase he needs to catch the kid. It helps, having this distraction from the ache of his mistake in not rebuying Drake Manor.

He ignores the empty sign that the child is leaning against, the faded outline of his family name showing where they removed the metal shapes. He can't handle that right now.

"If you're sure. My name is Tim by the way. What's yours?"

"I'm Billy! I'm five years old! " the boy answers, holding up his hand with a cheer. He gives his lollipop two licks before he gestures at Tim with it."Why are you standing in front of my house?"

"I just.....got curious. You have a pretty house." Tim says as evenly as he can.

"It's super pretty inside, too! My Dad bought it for my Mom and Papa," the boy cheerfully tells him. We move next to my uncle because my Dad says we have to stay close to family."

Wait.

"Bruce Wayne is your uncle?" Tim asks, and the boy nods rapidly. He even points down the street to where Wayne Manor can be viewed from a far distance- neighbors, they may be- the two properties were very vast. "He lives over there with my cousins."

Cousins.

"Oh" Tim hears himself say "That would be me."

Billy eyes sparkle "You're a Wayne?"

"Yes, Tim Drake-Wayne."

"I'm Billy Phantom! Heir to throne!" Billy shouts leaping off the pillar cuasing Tim to launch forward with his arms streach out ready to catch. He hits the ground with a oof but a lack of weight in his hands says he failed to caught Billy.

Not that it mattered as Billy floated in the air harmlessly. Tim glances at the workers to see if anyone has noticed that the boy is apparently a meta, but they don't even look over. Maybe the information was disclosed upon hiring?

"Are you Robin?" Billy says in his face, flouting upside down and staring into Tim's round eyes. He still lays in a heap on the floor, position for a catch and it must make quite a sight to any onlooker. "You look to big to be that one."

Before Tim could even think of an excuse, multicolored rose petals started to fall around them in a dazzling down. It appeared like foral confiti falling from the heavens. Billy flips around to see a pale, beautiful woman dressed in a gothic attire walking toward them.

Behind her, plant life blossoms into a wonderful sight. "Mom!"

"Billy, what did we say about Uncle Bruce's secret?" The lady says, voice musical to the ear.

"But Mom! Only the ghosts are around!" Billy whines, pointing at the moving crew further down the driveway, who have yet to pay attention to them. They didn't care that a goth version of Posion Ivy had strutted by.

"That's no excuse. What would your auntie Jazz say?"

"She says I was not being trustworthy with secrets and other peoples' feelings. I'm sorry." Billy slumps, flouting down to pout on the ground.

"Exactly. Hello Timothy," the woman continues, turning her purple eyes towards the down boy.It's lovely to have family over. "I'm Sam, goddess of the Green. Bruce recommended this place to us. We are excited for the next ten year vacation"

Bruce has a lot to tell him, more then just selling his family house without letting Tim know.

[tremordusk]

Episode 5 Theory: Agatha's Trial is not what it seems (Part 3)

Lilia’s Vision of Agatha’s Official Trial was disrupted by Teen.

Originally when writing this I was going to claim the trial was a mix of Agatha, Lilia, and Teen’s trials but after some thought and the evidence I gathered— that’s not the case.

(At this point you’re probably wondering why I haven’t addressed Rio and Alice yet— I was saving them for this). 

The reason this isn’t Teen’s trial: 

 “familiar’s don’t get a vote”

In the coven he is seen as their familiar and therefore isn’t an official member of the coven. Especially in episode four where Alice’s curse dealt with him differently than the other witches. By this logic Teen doesn’t get an official trial. However, because of the reveal that Teen is Billy Maximoff — we can conclude he was personally involved in Agatha’s trial whether intentionally or unintentionally. 

Right when they entered, the first thing that Teen says is that he lost his spell book. The previous trials he had his spell book so right from there things are off. It may not seem important but this is the perfect time to remember that Teen is a Maximoff and like his mother he does have telepathy, telekinesis, and mental manipulation as his abilities. And based off WandaVision it is possible to lose control of those powers from extreme emotions if Wanda taking over Westview proved anything.

Hypothetically if we go down the line of Teen (Billy) unintentionally being involved in the trial— here’s why:

episode 4: Teen/Billy is injured and according to Agatha there was a LOT of blood. 

He surprisingly made a fast recovery but if we are claiming he lost a lot of blood, he could still be reeling from it. Losing lots of blood can lower blood pressure and cause potential brain damage, dizziness and a couple other symptoms. Generally it takes about several weeks to recover from losing 1 liter of blood. So yes I’m saying he wasn’t fully okay walking into that trial. In short, he probably wasn’t fully in control of his powers since bleeding out. 

So maybe his powers ran a little rampant and he affected Lilia’s vision (we saw he could manipulate her at the end of s1e5) so who’s to say he didn’t affect her vision and in turn changed the layout of Agatha’s (unofficial) trial?

Teen grew up in the 90s Halloween in WandaVision episode 6. I’m not sure if the layout of the third trial is supposed to be 80s or 90s but it may or may not be relatively close. Agatha was also around during the Halloween episode in WandaVision so maybe Teen’s still recovering mind just went back to something close to his childhood in order to make sense of Lilia’s vision and Agatha Harkness herself. 

Also friend of mine pointed out the ouija board for the trial was a generic one that teenagers typically use to fool around and it’s not the one that real witches use. 

The blood moon as I previously mentioned represents:  “When the veil between the living and the dead is at its thinnest. “ which could mean the people Agatha has killed but with Teen disrupting the trial it could be representing his position as a creation of the Scarlet Witch and then disappearing when Wanda took down Westview… or part of Lilia’s vision trying to make sense of Teen’s (future) involvement. 

Another point I wanted to mention:

What if I said Teen’s worst nightmare was actually becoming like his mother and him squabbling with Agatha proved it— leading to the ending shot with him wearing a similar crown like his mother? 

The mind does crazy things when it’s sleeping (because he’s recovering from blood loss) and to have this happen or infiltrate Lilia’s vision by accident. Teen could be processing some issues he has not yet voiced about his mother and Agatha could be an unintentional stand in that reminds him of that — within the context of Agatha’s trial which is a vision that Lilia is having. (I know I might not be explaining this well but bear with me). 

He wanted to be with the coven but immediately turned when he realized how little they treated Alice’s death

^ this part was off to me and you could write it off as Teen’s insecurity of his place in the coven and losing the connections (Alice and Agatha) that currently connect them together. 

(Look at that I got to Alice now.) 

We see he forms a bond with Alice throughout the episodes and we also see him and Agatha fall into a mother son relationship. The reason I’m still saying this is Teen disrupting the vision of the trial is because of one (okay two crucial things):

Alice’s Death and Rio’s lack of appearance. 

Queue to the beginning of episode 4 where Agatha is nonchalant and trying to get everyone to move on from Sharon’s death (which I think most of us are clear is because Agatha wants to avoid seeing Rio who is Death incarnate). 

Lilia says, “a woman is dead” when Agatha tries to get everyone to move as they try to properly bury Sharon. This scene here indicates a sense of respect for the fallen.

They took the time to bury Sharon… so why didn’t we see Alice’s burial? 

Next part here:

Previous:

[scarlettsandmaroons]

it came like a postcard | n. romanoff

about me | series masterlist | natasha romanoff masterlist

pairing: professor!natasha romanoff x collegestudent!reader

chapter twelve | chapter thirteen: she stayed the same

chapter summary: there was nothing more bitterly endearing than the postcards she'd receive of you every year. postcards from your travels, milestones, everyday life. a life that she was not a part of anymore. a life that she was exiled from until she finally sees you again.

warnings: angst; non-aggressive fighting, minimal shouting, one-sided anger, guilt. smut; dom!natasha romanoff x sub!reader | minimal mommy kink, degradation, slight choking, hair-pulling, spanking, light hints of exhibitionism. cheating, possessiveness

a/n: and she lives!!! hi! i'm alive. i know i've been completely m.i.a for 2 months, but i have been terribly busy, and i desperately needed to take time for myself. regardless, i am back. and i really do thank you for the anons who worry about me, and the people who asked how i've been. i see those messages, i just didn't have the mental capacity to reply yet, but really it means a lot that people care enough to ask. i love you all always! mwa

hands tugged at your hair. 

you chanted billy's name in your head. 

this was supposed to be done in your honeymoon. but you knew your fiance would never have it in him to pull your hair so hard that your body is forced to arch back. 

billy billy billy billy billy billy billy billy billy. 

"children always think they do it better than their parents. always so full of themselves," she whispered in your ear, her hand snaking to wrap around your throat to hold you harder against her chest, her lips on your ear. your left knee was barely staying atop your vanity, your arm was extended to hold yourself up, pushing against the mirror while your other was reaching back for her neck. 

for a moment, you got a glimpse of yourself; your mouth open, your back arched, your lace—oh so expensive—dress hiked up to your hips, and your boyfriend's mother whispering in your ear: "but let's be honest. mothers always do best."

and then with some repulse, she curls her fingers inside you. and you have let the loudest moan you have ever in years. 

"aww," she pitied. "you. fucking. whore. you missed me haven't you?"

you don't know how you got there. but she does. she remembers every second that led up to that moment right there. 

from the christmas cards billy would send home of the two of you kissing, or holding hands, or on some trip, to finally, an invitation. 

she traced your golden name on the front of the card, and every letter she knew you so carefully wrote for every invite. she ran her fingers through the hard paper, most especially the front. basking in its memory of your touch, hoping that she may feel the last bit of the touch you left on it. 

and then suddenly, she's there. her son, the same one she hadn't seen in so long was there. he was near the front shaking hands with the entering guests. she was at the back, near the snacks table. she was holding a glass of champagne, an arm crossed over her body. 

and then he saw her. 

the way he walked down the aisle towards her in his white suit, and a black handkerchief so neatly tucked in his pocket. his hair slicked back, his shoulders broader, him a little taller. 

he extends his hand for a handshake before he gently pulled himself into almost a two second hug that merely truly was a pat on the back and a gentle hi. 

"i didn't think you'd come," he said. 

"i was invited, wasn't i?" 

he cleared his throat, looking away. "yes," he says. 

there was a silent pause. "where's the lucky girl?" she asks, taking a sip of her drink. 

she sensed hesitation in him. she knew he wanted to hug her, to hold her, to feel her motherly warmth like he hadn't for a long time. but there was a line between them. while they hadn't talked in years, there was a part of her that wondered if what kept them apart was you. had you told him? if you had, she wouldn't be here wouldn't she? had you told him she made you uncomfortable then? maybe something less worse than her fucking you. had you initiated the no contact? 

but who was she kidding really? she knew it's her. it's always her. she forced a wedge between them because she hadn't called. because she hadn't asked how he's been, where he went. because the guilt hit her finally. because she was too much of a coward. 

he cleared his throat again. "she wouldn't want to see you," he'd said in his big manly voice. 

she was fazed almost—his voice had grown so much. he was no longer the 12 year old who would insist he deserves a bowl of ice cream through the gap between his teeth and his lisp; he was no longer the 18 year old who demanded her to give his bestfriend a better grade. 

he was no longer the kid she used to take on midnight motorcycle rides, the kid she'd tuck to bed after reading a children's book to, the kid she'd hug to sleep in her bed in wanda's absence. 

he was all grown up. and she should assume. so were you. 

and you were. 

she knew that because she watched you grow in the postcards she was sent. but it hadn't truly hit her until she found you. until she saw you through your vanity mirror. your face looked more mature, your hair was different. something about what she saw made her think that you were no longer the girl who was struggling to keep it down, laughing while trying to walk the pavement to the door from your dinner date. 

so much of you had changed. and she knew that from a mere glimpse of you. 

and then she caught your eye. 

she hadn't realized how much more your face could drop until she saw it happen. it's like your face became too foreign of your smile. like you hadn't done it properly for awhile. 

"mrs. romanoff," you said.

she felt chills, a sharp line that went down her back, and then goosebumps on her arm. mostly she felt something in her heart, a small pinch to the chest at how truly you've grown. away from her, apart from her, distanced from her reach. your voice was a little deeper, more controlled, smoother. more so, it was cold. free of any form of emotion, or love for her name. 

you spoke like a stranger. like someone who hadn't told her "i love you". like someone who hadn't memorized her name. like someone who's never said it. 

"y/n." she swallowed the lump in her throat. "how are you?" 

"i'm good." you tell her. "billy's outside."

"i know, i saw."

"then why are you here?" 

you weren't looking at her. in fact, you continued on your routine like she wasn't there at all. 

"i wanted to see you." 

"why?" 

thoughts raced her mind. the words brewed in her stomach, it came up her throat but she swallowed it back down, only allowing a lie to come out of her mouth. "i wanted to congratulate you."

"i think you're better off congratulating your son than your former student, don't you think?" 

she didn't say anything. she couldn't. but she couldn't leave either. she's here. she's a few steps away from you. seven years she's waited for this. what is stopping her? why couldn't she say more? why couldn't she come closer? 

"why did you leave?" she finally said after what felt like an eternity. "why did you leave me, y/n?" 

you froze. 

slowly, you turned to face her. "you are the last person to ever have the right to ask me that."

"i always do what i don't have the right to, don't i?"

you chuckled bitterly. "you do," you tell her. "somehow, i get the sense you're proud of it."

"makes life more fun."

"was it fun?" 

"what?

"was it entertaining to you, mrs. romanoff?" anger was starting to build up your voice. memories of your freshman year flashed through your mind. 

"what is?" 

and she seemed as clueless as ever. so you stopped. you took a deep breath, let yourself calm down for a bit. and you swallowed every word that now might be your only chance of saying. 

'it's been seven years.' you reminded yourself in your head. 'i'm happy with billy. i don't need this. i've moved on.' 

except you haven't. you wanted to scream at her. you were only nineteen. and frankly, you actually loved her. and she used you. she made you betray the two people who cared for you over some revenge she was never entitled to pull you in the middle of. 

"i think you should go now," you tell her, unable to look even at her figure through the mirror. 

she didn't move. she didn't say anything. she was just standing there, as if waiting. 

"mrs. romanoff, i'm sure you and your wife has been assigned seat outside," you say breaking through the silence. "please." 

"was that why you left?" 

you weren't sure what about her words flipped a switch inside you that all the words, the anger, the feelings, the emotions that you swallowed came hurling back up. but you kept it in. you kept it in your throat just enough that you were able to turn to her slowly, finally meeting the eyes you were so keen on denying you longed for; and tell her in the slowest way possible, "what?". 

"was my wife the reason you left?" 

your face wrinkled in so much disbelief at how nonchalant she was. at how she asked that as if she were only truly curious without care. more so at how she deliberately left out the questions that she should be asking. 

'are you okay?'

'were you okay before?'

'after all these years, are you okay?'

at most, what she should be saying is 'i'm sorry'. but no, who would natasha romanoff be if not an unapologetic disciplinarian who likes to take advantage of her students to get back at her cheating wife. 

"you have some nerve, mrs. romanoff," you say with such infliction she physically felt all your rage from just a simple sentence. "you have some nerve even coming here after what you did."

you, at the point, were already facing her, finger pushing at her from across the tight room. your bridesmaids are waiting outside, your mother who's fresh out of rehab for the 9th time, and your stylists who you all made wait so you can escape to the small closet with the vanity and breath. 

"you left," she told you with not a hint of anger, or resentment, but rather you got an ounce of condescension as if you were back in her classroom, just the two of you, and she points out a fact you already knew. 

it was ironic how it riled you up the same way it used to. but truly, while things remain as stronger than time could ever be, things change. the chill down your spine wasn't like the goosebumps you'd get before. it was sharp, fast. like a calculated knife swiping across your skin just enough to hurt, but never enough to draw blood. there was a pulse not where you used to always find it where it shouldn't be, not between your legs but in your temples. 

and suddenly you were back to being the 18 year old demanding that she looks at you. that she stops ignoring you. 

except this time, you weren't sure what you were demanding her of. were you demanding that she understands? that she apologizes? that she accepts her fault? 

"you used me!" you yelled at her, emotion flowing out of your mouth. "i was ninenteen! i was an innocent kid, and you used me!" 

"i—" you didn't know what she was trying to say. was she going to deny it? was she going to apologize? 

something inside you regretted that you didn't let her say anything. but you knew, had she looked at you with sympathetic eyes, had she apologized, had her body relaxed, had she looked at you like she'd loved you for the longest time, even if it were as fake as everything she used to show you; all anger will cease. 

"it wasn't real." your throat closed. and your tears gathered in the corner of your eyes. and she wasn't doing anything. not frozen—just unwilling to move. and somehow, the way she looked at you, straight through you like she's watching tv, made you realize that... she wouldn't understand. "but it was real to me."

pause.

you hear murmuring outside until it stopped altogether. and then you heard footsteps. then a knock. 

"babe, are you ready?" 

billy. 

it took you all the power you knew you had barely of to tear your gaze away from her and wipe your tears. 

"30 minutes baby," you shout at him back before you realized you actually wanted to escape and decided to head for the door to go to your fiancé. 

"i'm sure you'd look absolutely perfect," you hear a smile from his voice. "i'll come back in a bit, i'll just talk to the coordinator."

natasha stops you in your tracks right when you were about to pass her. right when your arms were not even an inch apart, so close to brushing but far apart that your skins never touched. 

"im sorry," she whispered. you feel her reach for you, then her hand holds yours, and your skin burns against hers with all the longing of the seven years packed with her absence. 

you looked at her. it was no crack in her stoicism; it completely shattered before you. and then you finally see her. you see her shoulders drop, and the ends of her lips twitching. you see her emerald green eyes, the way it craves for you; her eyebrows, the way they plead for you. you see her, you see her look at you, you see the way she calls for you. 

"please don't go," she whispers so intimately. even in an empty room, she kept it so closely between the two of you. the warmth of her words, the heat of her skin, too close that it melts you. 

and while reason fought with you. while wanda's voice repeats a 'she used you' in your head, it was always countered with 'but she won't be here had it not been real'. 

her touch lingers. and it burns, and her warmth set you aflame. and you were on fire. your robe felt like it was raging with flames. and your body aches. 

with no further thought, you pull her into a searing kiss. your arms took hold of her red locks. shifting constantly, unable to get enough of the feeling of her strands entangled between your fingers. 

her hands roam around your body, taking in as much of you as she could. you could feel her hands everywhere, like she was trying to fit seven years worth of you in a minute. and you are completely unable to compose yourself, moving your body so impossibly closer, looking for more ways to feel her; from desperately trying to hang your leg by her waist, to forcefully pulling yourself against her that you feel she might fall. 

your kiss was wet, sloppy, hungry, desperate, passionate, everything that set your soul alight. saliva drips from your mouth down to your chin. you weren't aware whose it was. but you feel her snake a hand in between you and she swipes a thumb under your lips to clean it up. 

she pulls away a little looking at you while she sucks the saliva off her thumb. and that—that very gesture, the way she looked at you, the way her other hand holds your lower back and supports your body that hers is so heavily pressed on—was what silenced all reason in your mind. 

you grabbed her lose tie, and her hand instinctively goes to grip your neck, and you both pull each other back into your kiss. this time, you walk back, pulling her in the process until you hit your vanity. 

you both scrambled to get each other's clothes off, but to no avail, she settles with your robe barely falling off your shoulders, and her silk white top untucked. 

you were sure if anyone were outside, that the grunts, the breaths, the subtle whimpers were everything that they can hear. and when you should truly care most, when your soon-to-be husband is within the building welcoming guests for your own wedding that's to happen in about an hour, and the people who matter most has seen his mother enter the room which the only noises coming out of at this moment were your wet kissing, this moment when reason fights hard for a place in your head, you don't care. 

"don't..." you stopped her when she slows down. when she gently tries to lift you up the vanity while a hand runs up your thigh so soft, so smooth, so teasing. when her kisses slows down, and she takes more control, and it cleans up a little. you moved away, taking grasp of her wrist. "don't make love to me. at the very least, you owe it to billy to let him have that."

you see something inside her dull. the flurry of colors behind her green eyes gets the tiniest gray tint. and she stiffened.

for a moment you thought she'd stop. but then her features hardens, her jaw clenches, her shoulders raise. 

and then she harshly took a handful of your hair and pulled your head back until you were practically resisting of pain and fear she might break it. her lips hover not even an inch above yours as she closely examines your face. 

"if you wanted to be fucked hard, you could've just said so," she tells you. and then she manouvers you around, carrying you and practically throwing you against the wall, her body pressing heavily on yours. "but that's my bad, of course you want to be fucked," she says. "you're a slut."

she rode up your robe, and your lace dress underneath it, spreading your legs further apart until one of your knees lay heavily on the edge of your table. 

"please..." you whimpered, face pushed hard against the cold surface of the mirror. 

she trailed a soft line up your leg, her touch spreading fire to your skin, a pulse to your insides, heat to your core. 

your whimpers filled your room. the sound of your submission, the smell of your desire filled her senses. she never thought a day would come that she would have you in her hands again. most especially, not in this way. 

"you can be patient, no?"

you gasped when she cupped your sex with her palm. she lowered her body, and pressed it hard against your own. her other hand tucks a portion of your hair behind your ear so it's not covering your eyes. 

"i think, you need to learn to be patient, darling," she whispers against your ear. 

you felt her weight. and her warmth, and somehow, with the very little reason left in your body, you remembered the door. you remembered the sound it made when billy knocked on it.

billy. 

billy.

your billy. 

her son billy. 

you couldn't move. the weight of her body held you in place. but you forced your hand to find the back of her head. you resisted the moans. you resisted the uncontrollable urge to grind against her arm by forcing yourself still. 

"nat, we can't," you whispered. "we can't do this here." 

suddenly, she was rubbing your pussy. with the entirety of her palm. she was rubbing your swollen nub, and your hole, and everything that her palm covered. your mouth dropped wide open to let out the most animalistic moan you had absolutely no control of. and then she pulls your hair back so your ear is right where her lips were at. 

"says who?" she pushed. "you're an adult now, you can do whatever you want."

and then there was wanda. 

and then wanda was whispering in your head: "you're just a kid,"—and you wanted to pull away. "she shouldn't have taken advantage of you." you can't move. your body refused to. instead, you drank on her heat, and her warmth, and her. "she was trying to get her revenge on me."

your mind said no. you hoped your body was strong enough to do the same. it wasn't. instead, you could feel the tears forming in your eyes as your inhibitions slowly faded away. 

you were like a puppy in heat. squirming under her, unable to control what desire flowed through your veins. "then tell me, who do you belong to?" she said, her voice a seductive whisper. "i don't touch what's not mine." 

you chose to silent the thoughts that screamed in your head. the voices that shouted of anger, reason desperately trying to be heard. 

"you." your voice was eager and you had absolutely no remorse for your words. "i belong to you." and somehow, though disguised by the desire you had for her, in your very core, and hers, you knew it was true. 

so just like that, her fingers started rubbing tight circles against your clit. the pressure from her touch even against your clothed core emitting a loud pornographic moan from you that even you didn't know you can make.

"such a slutty little mouth you have," she cooed against your ear, holding you still with her hand against your throat and the other rubbing your center. "i want to hear all the sounds that pretty little mouth can make." 

you grinded against her fingers, your eyes closing shut as you've fully given into the pleasure of her touch, intoxicated by the kisses she left across your back. 

"y/n? are you okay?" but then you heard his voice from the other side of the door, and the moment you did, natasha's finger entered your dripping cunt with no warning, starting in an incredibly fast pace, pumping into you hard and fast. 

your eyes shot open, thinking—hoping that after hearing his voice, the desire you have for the lady fucking you right now would be washed away by the thought of the man you're meant to marry in half an hour. you thought you'd push natasha away and run back into the arms of your fiance. 

but when your head turned towards the door and all you thought then was the woman behind you, you knew that not even your fiance's voice, his face, or him can control what eager desire you had for the woman. the desire you've long had for her. 

"y/n, what's going on, i can hear your voice. are you crying?" the man asked again, interrupting the moans you tried hard to swallow down.

"i..." you managed to let out, looking pleadingly at the woman with eyes that wished for her to slow down. 

"go on. answer him," she said, completely ignoring you as she added on another finger, your hips grinding against her palm for some friction against your clit. "or would you rather he hears your slutty moans?" 

you could feel that coil in your stomach beginning to tighten with your eyes starting to water in sheer pleasure. you turned your head back towards the door, huffing as you held back your moans, chasing for your orgasm.

"im okay, billy!" you practically yelped his name coming out as an unintentional moan when you've reached the peak of your orgasm, having now natasha help you ride it down. "im..." you panted. "im okay. just trying to get into my tight dress." you said. 

"do you need me to help you?" he says, then he chuckled, "i know im not meant to see my bride but i'll close my eyes!" though you had no remorse for your actions, not for your words, not for your desires, billy's innocence didn't fail to make your heart ache in guilt. 

you opened your mouth in an attempt to speak but before any words could come out of your throat, natasha's fingers had already beaten them as it slid through your mouth, hearing a soft, "clean them."from natasha.

the way she had her fingers in your mouth; the way she spoke, encouraged, urged when her son was merely a door away from her made you wonder if she felt what you did at this moment: guilt. her son being outside should make what she's doing with you slightly harder but it didn't. natasha was not troubled by any guilt as she bent you down the table, holding you down with both of your hands on your back, her hand keeping them in place. 

she pulled your panties down, and the skirt of your dress even further up; her eyes falling immediately on your ass that she stared at with admiration. then her hand rubbed softly against your exposed ass. 

she could hear your whimpers, that moan you let out when you felt the cold air against your dripping cunt, or the heavy breaths of you just waiting for what she'd do next.

her fingers ran through your folds, smearing the wetness that gathered on your hole. she bent down, her body pressing against you and her mouth on your ear. 

"you're not married yet so there wont be anything wrong if i do..." she trailed off her words into a sudden slap on your ass that had you yelping in pain. 

"what was that?" billy asked. "y/n, are you sure you're okay?" you didn't say anything. "will you open the door for me please?"

another slap was planted on your ass. and a couple more that in your head you counted to be 15. each one leaving a hard painful sting on your skin that as much as it shouldnt have, had added into the pleasure of having been bent across the island, exposed under natasha's eyes. 

"billy..." you huffed, tears falling from your eyes in both pain and pleasure of natasha's every slap. "i think you should... go," you said, heavy breaths in between your words. 

there was silence.

"y/n i—" he hesitated. 

you hummed feeling natasha's fingers ghosting against your clit again. "is my little whore scared that her boyfriend would hear her slutty moans?" natasha asked, her fingers lightly pinching your clit that sent waves of pleasure over your stomach. 

you whimpered, letting out a weak yes before suddenly feeling her entering 3 fingers inside of you. fucking you in a merciless pace that had you moaning so loud you were sure billy heard every slutty moan that came out from your lips.

"your pussy is so tight, baby." 

but frankly, you didnt care. you were far too focused on the pleasure natasha is giving you that if everyone were to hear you, you won't even bother. the way her fingers pumped into you, filling you up and sending you over the edge with every twist and every shift in angle. 

"y/n, my mother is here..." he finally says. reason shot up your brain. and you feel a stutter in natasha's pace. but she didn't stop. she continued on, now even harder than ever that you feel you are losing your mind. "have you... gotten the chance to talk to her?" 

"oh god mommy please..." you moaned out, unable to keep it in, moving your hips to match every thrust of her expert fingers. "please... please... please..." 

your mind left no space for billy though you try to force him in it. you feel his hesitation. you feel his doubts. you know the questions that raise his mind. but you didn't care. you were chasing the high you have longing for, for years. 

"you're such a desperate little whore aren't you?" she cooed. "whores dont get to come." 

she pulled out. 

and then it dies down. 

you came back from your high, the cloud from your judgement faded. and you were suddenly scrambling to cover yourself before billy could even think of unlocking the door with the key on the desk outside. 

you didn't think of looking at natasha. not one second. not even at her white-stained trousers, or her brown boots underneath. you fixed your hair, you closed your robe, and you opened the door to billy, welcoming him to yet another one of your mistakes. 

natasha remained invisible behind you. 

she was set to the side, flicked off, disregarded. as she should've. then regret surged through your muscle, guilt through your every vein. 

what had you done?

and once again, as he always have, and as he promised to always do, he opened his arms for you, welcoming you into his warmth, washing you away of your sins, as if his hug reinstills you of your virtues, and your truth, and who you are, which is beyond this, which is all that he truly sees. 

he spared a glance at natasha, before leading you out of the room, safe in his arms, safe from harms way. and neither of you ever looked back. 

you walked out on her. 

for the second time. 

but this time, she actually saw you. she saw you walk out of the door, she saw you leave, she saw you choose someone who isn't her.

this time she wasn't holding any flowers as she walked through the door of her home. water dripping from her hair, petals drenched with the heavy showers of what she read her city should be clear of for today. 

this time, her wife wasn't in the kitchen. lifeless flowers on the floor yet they're of color, a candle rolled off an empty paper bag by the threshold. 

this time, no realization hit her. her brain didn't have to process anything, she didn't have to stand frozen, with her hands shaking denying every bad thought that raced her brain. 

this time, she had no wife to run to. no wife to pull off the floor to question what she'd done to you. no wife to cry to her to tell her you had ran off with billy. no wife to tell her you were gone. that your mother was being released, and you chose to go back to her with billy.

you left her before. you left her again. 

and much like the last, she no longer has you. except this time, she won't ever have you back.

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Angel of Small Death

Part 3 of my Halloween mini series!

Dark Priest! Billy Russo, Dark Priest!Matt Murdock, Dark! Frank Castle

Warnings: Blasphemy, kissing.

You take two steps towards the altar, before stopping in your tracks.

“At all?” You ask.

“No, nothing,” Father Murdock answers, “Only a few bits and pieces of our time together, but he has no recollection of his childhood.”

The pain in your chest is searing.

“I see.” You answer.

“It's possible, it may come back with time, it's too soon to tell. Perhaps visiting him regularly might help. Though, if he grows agitated or violent, don't hesitate to come find me.”

You nod, studying his face unabashedly. 

He holds a stoic expression, before the realisation hits you that he can't see you.

“Um, yes, Father Murdock.”

The corner of his mouth twitches.

“Please, when we are alone, you can call me Matthew.”

“Okay… Matthew.” You murmur, feeling something cold trace it's way down your spine.

“I hope we can find a way to work with each other once I am Abbott.”

You blink, surprised, a sliver of dread passing through your body.

You want to protest, as if anyone would vote a stranger into such a position, but you find a way to hold your tongue, smiling at him, though he can't see it.

“I hope so too, Matthew.” You say evenly, before you excuse yourself to carry out your duties.

.

There's a knock on your door.

You sit up in bed, grabbing your robe and swiftly tying it around you, you call out in question.

“Hello?”

“It’s me.”

You reach for the latch, unlocking and pulling open the door to find Billy, dressed in loose fitting fabrics, looking down at you with glassy eyes.

“What is it?” Heavy concern in your voice.

“I can’t sleep, I keep trying to remember you. Can we go for a walk?” He asks.

It’s the middle of the night, but you nod, grabbing a scarf to throw over your head to protect your hair.

You take the back exit, so that no one can hear your footsteps and open their doors curiously and find a man where a man definitely shouldn’t be. You didn’t even understand how he ended up at your door undetected in the first place.

“For future reference, if you get caught in the women’s dormitories, you will be excommunicated from this place.” You say softly, giving him a rueful smile.

He inclines his head, but makes no apology.

You choose to walk the more isolated path, not wanting anyone to catch sight of you with Billy alone at night. Your robe was long, down to your shins, but beneath it you were only wearing your cotton chemise that barely touched your knees.

“How long was I at the monastery before leaving?” He asks first.

You blink, remembering what he had told you.

“You came when you were seven. Your mother had sold you for opioids, and when the woman that was taking care of you died, her husband passed you off to the monks here.” You spare a glance at him before you continue speaking.

“I arrived when I was fourteen, and we became friends before you left at eighteen. I haven’t seen you since that day, until now.”

“Did I- at least write you letters?”

“Only for a few months, but after that, no, nothing.”

You glance up at the moon, full, in all its glory, illuminating the path you've taken, through the trees, towards the cemetery.

“But you… we were close?”

You nod, “As close as two people of the opposite sex could get in a place like this.” 

He pauses, looks at you for a long moment. You smile patiently.

“I keep dreaming of you.” 

“Of our past?”

He shakes his head.

“Of you, now. Ever since I woke up and saw you, there's just been this pull, and I'm trying to figure out if it's always been there.”

You shake your head.

“I couldn't tell you.” You answer honestly.

You feel something inside of you flutter, that he might have felt the same way you did, all those years ago.

He turns, and continues walking, and you follow.

Tonight wasn't too cold, the robe wrapped around you was keeping you warm, but the stillness of the cemetery was starting to get to you.

This was supposed to be a holy place, a final resting area for the dead, but you had this odd feeling of being watched as you moved through the tombstones, passing the occasional crypt.

At the centre of the cemetery, you come upon an old stone gazebo, a statue of an angel posed in the middle.

“This place… I've been here before.” Billy murmurs, stepping in.

You feel your heart squeeze in your chest, looking at his back as he steps in, tilting his head in confusion.

You didn't want to talk about it, you didn't want to tell him about here, and the small mistakes you made together.

He turns, studying you, and you drop your head to study the stone floor in the dim moonlight.

“Tell me.” Billy says, determination in his voice.

“Tell you what?” You whisper.

“What happened here?” 

You swallow, shaking your head.

“Nothing.” You answer.

“You're lying to me.”

“I'm not.”

He huffs, raises his hands to press them to either side of his head.

He looks distressed, and you feel your throat squeeze, you reach forward to take his hands into yours.

“The truth is that I liked you, way more than you liked me, and you left, and you stopped writing, and you moved on to better, godlier things, and so did I. That’s the truth.”

He shakes his head violently.

“Then why do I feel like this for you? If you really meant nothing- why?”

Your breath halts in your chest before you speak.

“What do you feel?”

He stills, opens his eyes with determination in them, his hands squeezing yours, holding you in place.

“Like every vow I’ve ever made is worth breaking for you.” 

You gasp, leaning away but he doesn’t let you.

“You shouldn’t be talking like this.” You say calmly.

He blinks, tilting his head.

“I’m only telling you the truth,” He takes a step forward, and you back up in response, “Am I not allowed to speak my truth?”

Your body responds to his proximity, the darkness around you making you feel hidden. Your back bumps against the statue of the angel.

“B- Father Russo-”

“-Don’t pretend that we haven’t done what we’ve done. You’ve matured too much to deny these things.”

You suck in a deep breath, watching as he raises a hand to push your veil off of your head. He grips a lock of your hair, admiring the feel of it between your fingers.

Your lips part as his fingers trace their way behind your neck, he uses his thumb to tilt your head upwards.

“The scent of your perfume fills my senses.” He whispers, quoting Solomon to you right as he presses his lips to yours.

You raise your hands, pressing them against his chest, hesitating as his kiss deepens.

The response of your mouth is reflexive, it comes from somewhere deep inside you, kissing him eagerly the way your body demands.

“Your lips are as sweet as honey.” He quotes again, kissing your jaw, and then down, over your neck.

It’s unlike anything, your head tips back to allow him access, a burning between your thighs that demands more, demands your acknowledgement.

His hands undo your robe, opening it up to press his palms to each side of your ribs, sliding up to cup your breasts. You gasp when his thumbs brush your already peaked nipples, a sweet, tingling pleasure works its way over your skin.

His mouth is hot on your chest, tongue darting out and it reminds you- of a few days ago when you’d been in a similar position with a different man.

You gasp, pushing him back with all your strength. Billy pauses, a solemn expression on his face, his eyes dropping to eye your body through the open robe.

You huff, reaching to tie your robe shut.

“I’ll excuse your actions, because I think that head injury has clouded your judgement. But you shouldn’t do that again.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and you pause, your anger being washed away by sympathy, “I’m just so confused all the time, and my thoughts are so fractured.”

He shakes his head.

“The only time I have a clear thought is when I’m thinking of you. I’m sorry, please- please don’t hate me.”

You frown, feeling for him, you reach out, wrapping your arms around him securely. You feel his hand rise to stroke your hair.

“It’ll be okay.” You soothe, your body tingling with the ghost of his touch.

.

.

.

[hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch]

Agatha all along spoilers

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Okay okay sure

First off! I’ve seen people on Twitter already going mad but I think I need people to understand, this show was never targeted at a specific lesbian ending, yes! Very queer show and of course lots of Agathario but Rio is death, I always thought a kiss of death would happen because otherwise we’re being silly with ourselves it’s not queer baiting and it’s not helpful to be mad because marvel wont want to do things like this again if we start getting angry, the cast and crew were so proud of this and we should be too (we can vent a little and I plan too but I won’t tag actors or creators because I’m not weird)

But! I will say dying for Billy (technically I know she did because of Nicky because Billy got into her mind like a loser and a bitch and she wanted to redeem herself or whatever) is a bit strange I guess I get people saying ‘oh well of course lesbians get screwed over’ but you know for a marvel show to have actual canon lesbians who are kissing, yeah it’s scraping a barrel but if it’s received well I have no doubt they’ll do it again, I mean in the comics agatha gets resurrected and who’s to say that won’t happen? Anyway I’m ranting and yeah a little sad about the ending because it does feel like the killing eve ending but! Let’s get into the two episodes

Alice! My love, my baby I’m so sorry! Rio was right you died doing your job as a protection witch but it still hurts! I hope the afterlife is good to you and treats you well I love you 🥰

Jen! My beloved you did it! You got your powers back, I can’t believe agatha bound her that’s so funny and messed up! God agatha were you that low on cash???

“He’s an abomination” Damn right Rio get him!

Also the change in agatha a little about not wanting to see Rio when she died like yeah it’s a quick change but I think it’s Agatha putting her shields back up, she does want Rio back she definitely does but also it’s like ‘oh actually I’m putting my guard back up because I’m scared and you did something that hurt me’ (she is my scar!)

Rio being pissed off that agatha doesn’t want her and that she loves it when she’s like this unfortunately ladies this foreplay went a little too far and got ruined by a man (fucking typical) them basically flirting through their whole fight was great too

Also going back to episode 1 where Rio said ‘so take my power’ and Agatha replied ‘cute, but you know that would kill me’ BECAUSE SHE HAD TO KISS HER TO TAKE HER POWER! Did I get it right? Pretty sure I did so I declare that in their private moments agatha never kissed Rio but just started at her neck so not to accidentally kill herself during sex (dramatic lesbians)

Also in ep 4 when Agatha tries kissing Rio but then Rio stops her, I have a depressing feeling that Agatha was so upset at being reminded of what happened to her son she was willing to take the kiss of death I guess? Or maybe Rio can control stuff like that and kiss Agatha fine if she holds her power in but thinking she’s death I think it’s the first one

Rio cutting the road and stepping through I’m not gonna lie I was shocked! I gasped guys and I don’t do that often like obviously they knew was fake but I didn’t I love just thinking about Rio stepping in and out of the road but also where is the ‘road’? Is it just Agatha’s house? Have they been walking around in circles this whole time, god the citizens of westview may need to start looking for other places to live

The Salem era! I loved it (I do want more backstory but I think we’ll get some interviews explaining it so that’ll be fun) ‘born from scratch’ beautiful line Rio turning up I was like ‘oh daddy’s here to help with the birth’ then I quickly remembered she’s death and agatha begging not to take him and then I realised daddy isn’t here to stay for good reasons (like most dads)

Little Nicky was adorable! Such a cute kid and helping his mother trick witches? Putting him to work agatha, I like it! Start them early I say

Also they created the balled! So cute and heartbreaking since Agatha had to sing it all the time when killing these witches constantly being reminded of her son

Also her killing everyday then the one night she doesn’t rio takes their son??? God Rio give her a fucking day don’t you have like billions of other souls to take?? Just walk very slowly 🙄

Billy carrying the trauma of killing three (that’s right I count Sharon too!) witches because he created the road makes the ending worth it actually (not by much) because he has to suffer the consequences and deal with ghost agatha, get recked!

Rio and Agatha will definitely reunite (source: Me) Rio says she hates ghosts but only because she’s death and ghosts probably don’t want to move on, be a bit like trying to round up cats. HER AND AGATHA CAN FINALLY WALK TOGETHER FOR ALL ETERNITY

Anyway I have work in an hour and I’ve been up since 4 it’s now 6 and I’ve slept about 3 hours soooo if this is all ramblings I’ll try to add things later but yeah I loved the last two episodes yeah we could’ve gotten a bit more Agathario but I truly think they didn’t anticipate the overwhelming reception for them (Kathryn and Aubrey did though definitely)

I’m up for any discussion too I love talking about this stuff but works been hectic recently hence why I’m watching the episodes before work because after I’m just knackered but I’m off this weekend so I can reply properly to people

[quicklyshinycollectorfan]

AGATHA ALL ALONG SPOILERS EPISODE 5

I don't think Teen is The Big Bad Guy or even The Mini Bad Guy

I think he's in danger, like, life threatening danger

I have theories, but this are the main ones:

1-Mephisto

Yes, yes, I know what you are thinking, but hear me out

I didn't read any comics with Billy (yet), but I know some things

In WandaVision, they say that Wanda created the twins, that they were real. What if they actually have real souls?

Maybe Wanda created the bodies and souls of Billy and Tommy and when she dropped the Hex, only the bodies dissapeared and souls were left "floating"

In this case, maybe Mephisto captured the kids souls and kept them, maybe in a simulation like Wanda did with the people of Westview (that would explain the dad comment) but somehow Billy was able to escape (magic?) and now he wants to go through the road to get enough power to free Tommy and for them to have permanently bodies

Another possibility is that when Wanda created the twins, she only created the bodies, not the souls. The souls, she took from Mephisto and when the Hex fell, they returned to him, but with more conscious and would be the same thing as I said previously, with Tommy being kept, Billy being able to escape and trying to save his brother

In this cenarios, Mephisto would be the Big Bad Guy

2-Nick

Yes, I think Nick Scratch might be the Villain

I know that in the comics, he and Agatha doesn't exactly get along

Maybe, Agatha did something that might seem like she traded Nick for the Darkhold, or maybe she really traded him and regretted, but now Nick, grown up, wants revenge against his mother and what better way to do it if not with the son of the woman who took Agatha's powers (in his perspective, what she traded him for) ?

In this case, when the Hex fell, somehow Nick was able to get Billy, pose as his dad and incentivate him to go through the road, to find Agatha, to kill her or something along these lines, or to bring her to him somehow. Maybe he conviced Billy in this cenario with something related to finding Tommy.

(Listen, I feel like Tommy is going to appear, maybe in an actual presence, maybe just being mentioned, but he is going to come up at some point in the show)

I have other theories and may add to this post later, but this is all for now

Personally, the Nick Scratch theory is my favorite, even if it does not happen like that

[jisforjudi2]

THE FAITHFUL SECRETARY

Chicago Tribune

UPDATED: August 10, 2021 at 12:23 a.m.

Before the women’s movement, back when Father knew best and network TV made room for Daddy, when Mary Tyler Moore was Laura Petrie, not Mary Richards, actress Barbara Hale was playing a single working woman on TV.

Hale, now 71, remembers what appealed to her about the role of Della Street, secretary to lawyer Perry Mason on the series that was based on the mysteries by Erle Stanley Gardner.

“When we started (in 1956), it was the beginning of women not working at home. I liked that she was not married. My husband didn’t have to see me every week married to another man, and our children didn’t have to see me mothering other children.

“When (my son) Billy was in the 1st grade, we went to school for the first parent meeting, and on his desk were little projects he’d made-pictures of Daddy and Mommy and his sister and his animals. And underneath my picture-I wish I had it now, but the teacher kept it-he’d written in inch-high block letters, `This is my mom. I love her. She is a secretary.”‘

On Friday, the latest Perry Mason two-hour movie, “The Case of the Telltale Talk Show Host,” will air on NBC, one of seven productions that will carry the courtroom stalwart and his unflappable Girl Friday into 1994.

“I guess I was just meant to be a secretary who doesn’t take shorthand,” she quips. “My assistant wants you to know I’m a lousy typist too-33 words a minute!”

The Emmy award-winning actress is a Hollywood survivor-going into her second half-century in a profession she never dreamed of pursuing. A veteran of the old studio system and of television’s infancy, her co-stars in those early years were household names-Sinatra and Cagney and Stewart and Mitchum-when she was the ingenue.

RKO Studios was her “paid education,” as she puts it, her training ground. She met her husband, actor Bill Williams (who died several months ago), over coffee at the studio commissary.

Today, she still offers ample evidence of the effervescent beauty she was in the ’40s and ’50s-and even earlier, in Rockford High School, when her buddies entered her in a May Queen contest and she won. “I still know them, dear, and we 15 get together every three years. It takes three years to get over the three days we spend together!”

Her career seems to have evolved from being on the right Chicago street corner at the right time.

The daughter of a Rockford horticulturist and a homemaker, Hale (born in DeKalb) was studying at the Chicago Academy of Fine Arts, living at the Harriet M. McCormick branch of the YWCA and planning a career as a commercial illustrator and portraitist.

One day, as school let out for the summer, she was standing at the corner near the Drake Hotel with a girlfriend who’d come to town for a couple of weeks to look for modeling work. While they were waiting for the bus taking them to the North Side, a car drove up and someone tossed a card at them. It referred them to a modeling agency.

“A couple of weeks later, I went to see my buddies, and I told one of them the story about the card,” she recalls.

“She said, `Barb, you’re kidding! I was sitting in the little coffee shop at work this morning, and a lady came in and sat next to me, because it was the only seat left. She was pouting. I asked if she had a problem, and she said, “Yes, darn it. I have a model agency and I saw this kid on a corner, in a red coat, and can’t track her down. She’s exactly what one of our ad agencies is looking for.” Barb, what coat did you have on that day?

“I said, `My red coat-it’s the only coat I have.’ And she said, `Barb, I think that card was meant for you.”‘

It was. Hale went in to the Seaman Agency, and stopped Connie Seaman in her tracks. “She said, `Oh, my God-honey, don’t move! Al, get over here quick!’ Al came in and said, `It is her! Let’s see-we’ll shape her eyebrows, put on a little more lipstick, pull her hair back … ‘ and I said, `Just a minute, sir-what are we talking about?”‘

Hale was “a green 19” when she began fashion modeling, and after about a year and a half, RKO offered her a six-month tryout. The day after she arrived in Los Angeles, she visited the studio and its casting director, Dick Stockton.

“As I was shaking hands with him, the phone rang. He took the call, and as he listened, he started looking at me. `Yeah, yeah, yeah, just a minute.’ He turned to me and asked, `Honey, can you say a line?’ I said, `I don’t know.’ He said into the phone, `There’s a kid in the office right now. I think she’ll work. I’ll send her right over.’ He told his assistant, `Take her to wardrobe, take her to makeup, take her to Stage 6. One of the kids is sick. We’ve got to have a girl there immediately.’

“It hit every paper the next day. Cinderella story. First day on the lot, she gets-of course they said a starring part. I had one line, but you know about those things.”

Apart from that walk-on, in “Gildersleeve’s Bad Day,” she made her debut in 1944 in “Higher and Higher,” opposite Frank Sinatra.

Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz, Ginger Rogers and Jane Russell were all at RKO then. So was Burr-who would be her TV series co-star about a dozen years later.

Hale studied dancing and singing at the studio. She began to appear on screen regularly-four movies in 1944, two in 1945-and eventually won leads in such movies as “The Boy With Green Hair,” “The Window,” “Jolson Sings Again” and “The Jackpot,” performing even while pregnant.

“I told Billy (her son, actor William Katt, who starred in the television series “The Greatest American Hero”) he should put on his resume that he was in `The Jackpot’ and `Lorna Doone,’ and he said, `Mother, I wasn’t,’ and I told him, `Oh, yes, you were!”‘

She continued her movie career and was a mainstay of television dramas until 1956, when a producer offered her the Della Street part in the pilot of what turned out to be a 9 1/2-year run. Hale went on to win an Emmy for best dramatic actress for the role in 1959.

“We did 36 shows that first year,” she says. “And we’re still doing it!”

She says that Della “was-and still is, to a great degree-a woman who knew what everybody was thinking. She was informed, and very observant of everything that went on. That was my challenge as an actress-to be a necessary part of the office without being too aggressive. Della was quietly overpowering: She knew when to speak and when to keep her mouth closed.”

Hale sees Della as having remained constant, to an extent. Her task is basically the same. But there have been some subtle emotional changes.

“I think she’s a little more at home, relaxed, showing her knowledge not only of the case, but also of her boss. In the early days, it was all business. Today there’s more of a camaraderie between them, a little more humor and more sensitivity to each other, which comes with years of being side by side.

“She’s trying to see that he stays healthy,” she says. “She’s taking him off coffee.

After nearly 300 episodes, “Perry Mason” folded in 1966.

In the mid-1970s, the show returned briefly with other actors and faded quickly. During the ’70s and early ’80s, Hale worked sporadically. She was in the original “Airport” in 1970, and appeared opposite her son in a 1978 surfing movie, “Big Wednesday.”

In 1985, producer Dean Hargrove asked her what she thought of the idea of a “Perry Mason” reunion show. She told him, “it would be divine, but we are 25 or 30 years older than we were then.” He said the intention was to use them as they were and to bring in a few new young actors to replace cast members William Talman, Ray Collins and William Hopper, who had died.

“Dean said, `There’s a young blond kid in town. I want to talk to him, not his agent. He’s done a series-“The Greatest American Hero.” But I can’t reach him.’

“I said, `Oh, well, that young man is in Kansas City doing “The Music Man” right now, and I can get you in touch with him if you want.’ And Dean asked, `You know him?’ I said, `Dean, I changed that boy’s diapers!’ Billy played in the first nine (Perry Mason) movies, then went on to another series of his own.”

“Perry Mason Returns” in 1985 was a Nielsen triumph, and with Perry stepping down from a judgeship to defend Della against murder charges in the first episode. From then on, the Mason bunch have visited America’s living rooms every few months.

After nearly four decades, Hale says the role of Della still offers unexpected moments.

“This week, at the end of the show, very quietly and very surprisingly, Perry plants one on Della,” Hale says. “It’s a first!”

Originally Published: May 16, 1993 at 1:00 a.m.

www.chicagotribune.com/1993/05/16/the-faithful-secretary/

[rhiannswork]

w. rojas || have you ever thought about it?

warnings: talk of pregnancy, julia 🥹🥹, a mockery of the scene where cami asks daisy if she wants kids, let’s act like mr. rojas has a bed in the house, fluff, camila just being tired :((

“so, if im correct, you began dating warren around the beginning of the aurora sessions?”

“ahh yes i was…” you nodded. a smile grew on your face as you heard your husbands name.

back then, it was easy to get into studios, wear something a little flashy and boom you’re in. after seeing the reoccurrence of the group ‘the six’ alongside daisy jones, you took it upon yourself to hang around them more often.

you lingered at the door, listening for instruments. you didn’t want to walk in on a take.

“hey babe,” you heard warrens voice from behind you. “hi warren.” you turned around quickly, you were faced with a tall, fit man, with a wife beater and slightly tight pants. “we’re not recording a take, don’t worry.” he walked in front of you to open the door for you. “after you.” he smiled.

you walked into the room and seeing a soft atmosphere. eddie creating a bass riff, julia dancing to the riff with her mother, billy and daisy revising lyrics, karen and graham were no where to be found.

“this was way before we knew they were screwing to be honest.”

“warren, ‘bout time.” eddie smirked with cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth. he rolled his eyes as he walked closer to julia and camila. “hi mija.” he picked julia up in his arms.

you watched as he bounced her up and down to eddie’s riff. “she loves this riff…” camila laughed as she brushed her hair behind her head. “i can tell.” you smiled.

“you always used to find something that could hold you up, your knees would be just a’going.”

camila watched the way you adored warrens careful touch with julia. “do you want one y/n?” she spoke softly before placing her chin on your shoulder. “wha- huh? you mean now?!” you turned around with a panicked look.

“no! no… don’t be like me,” she sighed as her eyes glanced over to billy entranced by daisy, as if they were the only people in the room. “in time… you think warren would want one?” she looked over to him taking julia to his drum set. you watched as he carefully placed the big headphones on her and placed her on his lap. he handed her two drumsticks and cupped her hands and slowly starting playing a rhythm.

“i don’t think he’d want a baby with me.” you shook your head with a chuckle to follow. “why would you think that y/n.”

“i’m not fit for it cam. i don’t want to bring a kid out in this world… it’s cruel. what if i’m not a good mother!” you quietly yelled to her. “what? you’d be an amazing mother. i thought i wouldn’t be able to handle jules. believe it or not, i was crying almost every night. it’s natural but you know what else is natural? you becoming a good mother.”

you smiled at her words. “this may sound weird but i wish you were my mother.” you chuckled as you looked down. “i’ll be your faux mom.” camila lifted your head up by your chin as she glanced in your eyes.

you could depict the hurt in her eyes, this conversation was more complex than it sounded to anyone else. all you could do was telepathically apologize to camila. she sent back an ‘it’s okay.’ with her eyes.

“your mother… she was a strong woman. an extremely strong woman.” you sniffled as you put a smile back on your face.

you stayed at the house where the band (minus cami and billy) lived. it was late when everyone got back, everyone had a quick bite of chinese food and headed off to bed.

you finished up your shower and headed to warrens room. “hey, i feel like i haven’t talked to you all day.” warren watched you walk to the bed. “sorry, just… thinking.” you nodded as you wrapped up under the covers.

“what about, my love?” he turned to you, propping his head up. “do you ever… in the future, maybe… want a baby?” you looked over to him. “of course i do. i’ve gotta carry this drumming legacy on somehow!” he joked. you scoffed as you rolled your eyes. “alright ringo. camila had asked me when i came to the studio.”

“oh yeah?” he grabbed your hand and placed a soft kiss on your knuckles. you hummed as you nodded your head. “i just want to be ready for him or her. i want to be a good mother.” your eyes stayed on his hand.

“and you will be. right now, we’re gonna be young and in love. we can worry about that later alright? don’t stress yourself out.” he muttered before placing one last kiss on your forehead and a lingering hand rubbing your cheek.

“i feel like i’ve done this mothering thing right. i mean, i’ve done it three times.”

[deliciouskeys]

So I liked what we have of season 4 a lot?! I don't know if I set my expectations really low, maybe didn't expect to get that fandom feeling back, but I think I can say with certainty that I've enjoyed e1-3 of s4 more than e1-3 of s3, and mayyyyyybe even more than e1-3 of s2. Some of the storylines don't interest me, but that was true of prior seasons too.

Things I am loving so far...

(under cut because there may be teensy weensy spoiler references)

Sister Sage! Yes, she says the lines that are in the trailer, but they are so misleading about the type of character she is. I LOVE her so far.

Homelander's frustration with being adored no matter what he does and his ennui about being surrounded with sycophants (which tbf, he engineered). I am SO glad they're walking that back to some degree. Related to point 1 above, I am delighted by the way he goes about solving this problem.

Every single scene with Ryan is so fucking good?? Like, Cameron Crovetti is the ideal Ryan of my mind's eye when I write fic. I feel SO bad for him. But I am loving the divorced plot and them jockeying to be his dad. Some of it reads like fucking fic, in a good way too. Like I can't believe the conversation between HL and Ryan after he comes back from Butcher's place actually happened on TV and not in my head.

I am actually SO SO happy they decided to outsource Billy Butcher's shitty tendencies to his Tyler Durden. I did not expect him to fucking apologize to Ryan for the S3 debacle. Even ~I~ felt apologized to for that "necessary for the plot but makes zero sense outburst".

I am loling every time Noir speaks. I don't know why, but I'm finding it hilarious.

I think they're actually doing a good job with A-Train's storyline, or a better job than I expected to justify how he becomes their new double agent.

I'm enjoying Chace Crawford's work in season 4. I like that he's sincere about the comic relief role.

Hughie is so charismatic, and for the first time in 4 seasons I think he elicited tears in me (in the scene right before his mom shows up when he's listening to his dad's messages).

I like Ashley's dialogue more this season than season 3. Part of that may have to do with me enjoying her character when she's angry rather than scared shitless or "trying to imitate HL"

I welcome the larger Victoria Neumann presence, and can't wait to see more about her past.

I enjoyed BIlly Butcher using a crowbar in a fight

I enjoyed seeing Antony Starr playing a mommy and a daddy and a.... secret third thing in the mirror.

What I'm meh about...

I hate to say this but the Boys' storylines are mostly dragging and feel disconnected. I'm already tired of Frenchie and Kimiko refusing to talk to each other and attempting to drink/drug their problems away. The mystery about why Frenchie is distraught was mostly solved right away, and Kimiko's mystery is still some derivative of her backstory in S2. It just doesn't feel connected.

Mother's Milk is fine, but I do think his character took a turn toward the unreasonable in season 3, and it has sort of continued. It's not clear to me why he's kicking Butcher out of the team multiple times, especially when Butcher saves them, and clearly has nothing better to do with his time. It feels especially cruel to kick him out when he tells him about the terminal illness.

Annie's storyline is.... fine, I guess. Maybe it will develop into something more interesting, but it feels like the writers don't exactly know what to do with her now that she's out of the Seven. I don't know why Firecracker had to have a personal vendetta against Starlight beyond being a symbol of 'wokeness'. I guess I'll wait to see if Annie's meangirl past becomes relevant as the season goes on.

Firecracker is okay. I'm amused that Homelander seems bored and annoyed by her, so I take it it's fine if we feel the same way too. It's certainly an interesting addition to the Seven to have someone so underpowered.

Hughie's mom frustrates me so much I wanted HL to come and laser her instead of Hughie after that chase. Her explanation made it worse for me, not better. I await to be proven wrong, but so far I think Hughie is being a really kind person to her. "Your father didn't want me to talk to you". But you were allegedly talking to him for years? And you son is in his 20s, I think you could have contacted without his daddy's say-so. UGH.

I don't really care about this so much, because I don't like character deaths, but it is pretty funny when Vicky doesn't kill Hughie or Butcher, and when Homelander is nerfed beyond all belief and is unable to laser Hughie in a closed space. I'll chalk it up to him losing a step or fifty with the enlargement of his prostate.

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Pizzicato

Chapter Nineteen

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela, Dean/Cas (unrequited)

Other characters: Miriam Talbot (OFC Bela's mother)

Word Count: 2567

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, putting out other people's fires, and old baggage, unbeta'd

A/N: Castiel and Trouble's friendship is something I didn't realize she had been missing until he was in front of her. There are a couple of big truth bombs in this chapter and I hope I handled them respectfully. This is an AU and it is not indicative of this author's feelings on canon or any other fandom shipping practices.

Series Masterlist

Posting on Dean’s instagram account was par for the course as the band’s publicist. You bothered to know what a hashtag was, for one. For another it also allowed you to check traffic on posts and actively moderate things to help the comment section look best for Dean’s image. Afterall, Dean trusted you, you weren’t going to leak anything or make him look like an idiot.

You were a goddamn professional and this wasn’t the hardest thing you’d done in the last year, but Jesus fuck were you pissed.

Dean hated tattoos. Really, he hated needles. He was black out drunk when he and Sam got their matching flaming pentagrams. He actually had a panic attack the next morning after realizing he let someone “sew ink” into his skin. By sheer force of will and through the bond of shared grief, you got him to go with you for Jo’s memorial tattoo on the tenth anniversary of her death. It was in your all-time top five ultimate Dean-Y/N memories.

And now it meant jack shit.

You edited and cropped the photos, sent two back to Bela to post on her account and then posted the lion’s share onto Dean’s, making him look like the diligent boyfriend while Bela was busy in the chair. You thanked Billie for taking care of “his girl” and made sure the shop was the location and tagged. You wanted to punch something, it looked so good. Then you sat back and let the interwebs do its job.

Okay, in actuality, you emailed about twenty different people, had a conference call with the tour management marketing team, scheduled radio station drop ins and followed up with Meg on the expected release of Dean’s photoshoot and interview. These days it may just end up online, but you hoped she was able to score him real physical print space.

It was just as you were winding down for the night, when your phone rang. It was past any reasonable business hours and you were already done with your skin care routine, but then you saw the caller id.

“Miriam! Hi!” You tried to sound pleasantly surprised.

“Don’t Miriam me, young lady. What is going on out there? Is it drugs? I thought we missed this stage when she quit acting for college. You’d tell me if this hoodlum was pressuring her into risky behavior wouldn’t you?”

Which was a lot to unpack right off the bat like that, luckily you had experience dealing with Bela’s mother.

“It’s just a tattoo. She’s not on drugs, I promise.”

“And what about this Dean? I knew they were seeing each other, but this seemed a bit more intimate— not exactly in the public eye.”

Oh, she was good.

“He’s not on drugs either. And—- he actually isn’t thrilled with tattoos. This might be all Bela, if I’m being honest.”

“Have you seen the things they’re saying? The things they’re calling her, Y/N?”

You rolled your eyes and heaved yourself out of bed, you needed your laptop if you were going to continue this conversation rationally. 

“Let me look into it— what site were you on?”

“Oh, I’m not sure. Olivette, one of the boardmember’s wives, told me she read about it online during dinner.”

You inhaled deeply and started your usual rotation of sites, you’d have to add some new tags to follow Bela’s buzz more closely going forward. 

“And you’re sure this wasn’t just bad blood from Olivia? I’m not finding much besides general surprise.”

“It’s Olivette. And yes, I’m certain. She wouldn’t make me worry without a reason.”

And then you realized what you were missing, it wasn’t just People or TMZ you had to worry about. You went to Hello!’s twitter and you found what had Miriam Talbot’s friend in a huff. 

You started scanning the comments, gathering the most common complaints and judging their amount of influence via cursory glances. You did not know a lot of the news personalities or celebrity bloggers in the UK. You were going to have to meet with Bela and figure out a better approach going forward.

“Okay, Miriam, it’s almost eleven here. I know you probably called me as soon as you woke up, but consider me on the case. Alright? Bela’s fine and this is just a minor hiccup.”

“If you’re sure, Y/N, dear.”

You sighed. “Of course. I would warn you if there was anything to worry about. But please just let this run its course. You know how the tabloids are.”

“Unfortunately I do, that’s why I called. Please keep me updated if anything else comes up?”

“Will do. You have a good ni-day!”

“Goodnight dear— and thank you.”

You smiled at your lap. “Anytime.”

You let her hang up. Then you promptly pulled up your contacts list and warned Bela that her mother was sniffing about online and to call her at a decent hour. And finally, you spent the next four hours (or so) online until you had swam to the bottom of the cesspool and decided it wasn’t worth your time. At least not right then, not so exhausted.

Three days passed since the snobby UK gossip rags’ judgment rained down and, as expected, it had already just about fizzled out. You sat in a cafe with a quad shot flat white, waiting for your lunch date to arrive. Not truly a date, though it wasn’t a meeting either.

It was a diplomatic mission.

Then you spotted him and your stomach swooped, feeling the loss of his presence in your life all over again.

“Hey, Cas.” You stood and held your arms open for a hug, which he accepted with a timid smile.

“It’s good to see you, Trouble,” his gravelly voice murmured in your ear. He still smelled the same.

You pulled back and looked him in the eye, searching for anything but the sincere blue reality in front of you. He held no grudges, not with you, without even discussing it you knew he was still your friend. 

You then punched him squarely in the shoulder. “That’s for ghosting us all for the last nine months, assbutt!”

He grunted, and rolled his eyes. “I can accept that.”

“Good. Because I missed you. We all miss you.”

He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows in challenge.

“So— heard you have a kid, huh. That’s —- weird.”

Castiel exhaled and shook his head. “Who told you?”

“What? Nobody. I have eyes. And spend enough time online to draw some conclusions.”

“Kelly told you.”

“She didn’t have to. She’s amazing by the way— are you a thing now, now that you know he exists?”

Castiel looked affronted. “Me and Kelly? Oh, no. That was a teenage mistake. We were young. And we’ve both matured into vastly different people. But I respect her and I think— I hope I’ve earned her trust.”

“Tell me about him—- he’s what? Twenty-twenty one?”

“He’s twenty three and very talented. Kind, impossibly optimistic even.”

“Yikes, tough combo out here.”

“Tell me about it.”

You shared a look and he smiled at you like he knew what you were thinking about. Like you were reliving the same joke.

You blinked away the sting in your eyes.

“Go get your dark roast and get back over here, we’ve got things to discuss.”

His eyes softened, but Cas didn’t argue with you.

You sipped your drink and tried not to let all of the questions that had been building for months run away from you. He was back both too quickly and too slowly. You cleared your throat, the awkwardness you had been fighting back rushed to the surface.

“So— I presume there is more to you calling to get lunch. Not just asking about Jack and goading me about my latest tattoo?” Cas wasn’t one for small talk.

You nodded and swallowed around another perfect mouthful of milk and espresso.

Castiel’s face went through a journey when you didn’t quickly reply. “He doesn’t want to see me—- he made that quite clear.”

“And what about since everything?”

“What do you mean?”

“I know Dean’s called you. He might not have been big enough to actually apologize in a voicemail, but I know he wants to fix things— he misses you as his friend, too.”

“Then he should be able to suck up his pride and make the effort,” Cas snipped, the first sign of the lingering anger from his and Dean’s fight.

“I haven’t exactly seen much of your effort. Do you not want to fix things?--- And I’m not talking about coming back to the band— that ship has sailed. I’m talking about twenty years of friendships you just walked out on.”

Cas stared at his coffee, his eyebrow ring arched with his bitchy expression. He hated being corrected, you knew that. But this had gone on long enough.

“I’ve spoken with everyone but Dean,” Cas explained. “It’s not perfect, but it’s progress.”

“You never spoke to me,” you spat.

Cas’ eyes softened again. “I always knew where your loyalties lie, you took your time, too.”

“Wait— even SAM?!”

“Sam and I haven’t lost contact this whole time.”

You sucked in air. “Oh, he is so dead.”

“Y/N. It wasn’t like we were plotting or anything. He was worried about me, I was worried about Dean.”

“Yeah, but if Dean knew—”

“Ask Sam, but I don’t think he could hide anything from Dean if he wanted to.”

You knew he was right. Ever since Sam got sober, transparency had been something Sam put into his closest relationships anyway. Beside Dean being ruthless and stubborn, well, you supposed Cas was right. 

“Why do I feel like this band just doesn’t want me to be able to do my job?”

“Your position as group therapist is fairly tenuous. Especially with Pamela involved.”

“I meant my real job. If I had known you were on decent terms with, well, everyone but Dean, it would have made things a lot easier, young man.” You couldn’t help but smile now. Sure you were hurt, but the eggshells you had been stepping over for so long really only took up a single corner of the floor.

It was freeing.

“I never meant to cause you any distress.”

“That doesn’t make it go away, Cas.”

He bowed his head, but popped back up to meet your gaze. “I know. I apologize. I didn’t want you to think that I was done— with any of you.”

You pinched your eyes closed quickly and then reached over the table to squeeze his forearm. “Okay. So— you’ll come to Dean’s birthday party, then?”

Cas patted your hand with his left and sat back, breaking the contact and sat with the invitation for a heavy moment.

“What makes you think he’d want me there?”

You glared at him, all tattooed and handsome and absolutely clueless about how much his absence has affected Dean. Sure, Dean got to keep the band, but it wasn’t the same without Cas. Cas has had to start over entirely, become a dad and rebuild his career all without any of the support Dean has had around him through his own troubles.

“Look— I know you’re Mister Independent and I don’t want to set back any of the progress you’ve made without him needing you around. But he still looks for you whenever we all go out. And hanging out with Kevin, made it abundantly clear to him that you were available— you just weren’t interested.”

“Why do you always make it sound like we were an item?”

You rolled your eyes. “Look, we all know Dean has attachment issues. I’m not saying anything was kinky between you guys— that’s not my business. But, as friends, you guys deserve to at least get some answers— closure or forgiveness can come later, if you get there.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Really? You’re not just saying that to get me off your case?”

“Yes, really.”

You smirked and Cas’ smiled with his eyes, fidgeting his lip ring with his tongue.

Cas cleared his throat and took a sip of his coffee before changing gears. “So, your friend Bela and, uh, Dean?”

You groaned and hid your eyes in your hand. When you looked up he was laughing at you.

“What?!”

“Stop— we both know what it’s all about.”

“Kevin seems to think Dean’s whipped.” Mischief continued to dance in Cas’ eyes.

“Well, it’s about time.”

“I told him, the only one who has had Dean whipped in over a decade is you.”

You choked on your spit, sputtering at Cas’ bluntness.

“They don’t know it’s for show do they?”

You inhaled deeply. “Sam knows. Dean and Bela have their own private agreement about it all. But, uh, yeah, you pretty much guessed right.”

Cas watched you thoughtfully, futzing with his lip ring with his top teeth now. 

“How are you holding up?”

“Me? I’m fine, why?”

Cas nudged your ankle under the table with his combat boot.

“As someone who was definitely in love with him for most of my life— I know the symptoms.”

You sighed and shivered at being seen and having your long held suspicions confirmed. You rubbed your upper arm, trying to fight the goosebumps. “I’m fine. Nothing has changed. He’s just been working on himself and that is— distracting.”

Cas hummed, head cocking to the side as if looking at you with a different angle would give him more insight.

“I mean it. He’s in therapy and everything. Sam and him are working out. He’s been insanely focused on the latest album—”

“He’s doing penance.”

“Maybe. But he wants to be better. It’s not just guilt. I don’t know how to explain it. But, you’ll see what I mean.”

Cas eyebrow popped up again.

“You will,” you insisted.

“You always were able to read me weren’t you?”

You chuckled at the back of your mouth, short and knowing. “Guess it comes with being stuck with each other for so long.”

“Shared trauma response,” Cas teased.

“Or that.”

You finished the last of your drink and looked around the cafe.

“So, where we going to eat? I think we’ve had enough heavy— sushi?”

“You buying?”

“Phantom Traveler is covering this as a business lunch.”

Cas stood and pushed in his chair. “Okay, well then, bring on the seafood.”

You stood and let Cas walk you outside, his hand on the small of your back until he could offer you his elbow on the sidewalk. You smiled up at him and pulled him tight to your side.

“I’m glad you’re back, Cas.”

“Well, we’ll see if everyone agrees with you, won’t we?”

The afternoon passed quickly, catching up and sharing memories that were now tinted with the grief of the last lost year. Things made more sense the longer you thought about how the band had been acting, especially way back at the Animal Shelter where Cas’ niece had been more than willing to put in her two cents. You texted Sam while you waited for your meals, warning him where you were and what you knew.

‘Have fun.’

His only response. Asshole.

But everything kept from you, kept from Dean, wouldn’t last forever. It couldn’t. Now you at least could control the narrative a bit more by being in on it all. Or most of it at least.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter Twenty: Arpeggio

[jamdoughnutmagician]

A Slice Of Life (Waitress AU) part 6

Doctor!Steve Harrington x Waitress!Reader

<- Previous part Next Part ->

Word Count:2,208

*dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist // Steve Harrington Masterlist

“Steve, what on earth are you doing here?” you whisper-shout as you round his table.

“I heard this was a great place to get some pie.” he says with a smile. “Plus I came to see you, I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N”

“You can’t be visiting me at work like this, doesn’t this go against our keeping things low-profile agreement.”

“I don’t care about that, I know how I feel about you, and I’m not ashamed of that. I like you a lot, Y/N, and sometimes I think you think like me too, and I want to be the one to make you happy.” he says sincerely.

“It’s not that simple, Steve. Yes I like you, of course I do, but all of it doesn’t matter when I’ve got Billy breathing down my neck and watching my every move. He’d wring my neck if he even saw us talking together right now.”

“I know this whole situation is completely crazy, and not ideal, and hell, I’ve only known you a few short months, but you’ve worked your way into my heart.”

“Steve..”

“I’ll wait for you, however long that may be, I’ll wait for you. You’re worth waiting for.”

You fight against the tears welling up in your eyes at how patiently sweet and loving that this man was to you, your heart pounding against your chest.

You wipe your tears with the back of your hand quickly, turning away, before turning to Robin on your way.

“Uh, Rob, can you serve table 7 for me please, I need to run to the back for something.”

“Sure, is everything okay?” she asks, laying a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“I’m fine, honest I am, thanks” and with that you were rushing to the bathroom, slamming the door behind you with a shaky breath and tears bubbling in your eyes.

Why was nothing simple?

You dry your eyes, and pull yourself together in the bathroom mirror enough to go back out into the diner, and when you look out you find the seat in which Steve was sitting bare. Robin tidying away after him.

“Hey, Y/n, that customer I just served, he sure did leave a generous tip.” she smiled as she wiped down the table with a cloth.

“That’s-uh- that’s really good, Rob, you deserve it.” 

The day had felt long and tiring as you sit down with a sigh next to Nancy on the bench outside the diner.

“You waiting on Billy to pick you up?” 

“Yeah” you say quietly.

There’s a beat of silence between you two before Nancy speaks again.

“You know, you’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for. That’s the thing that I have always admired about you, you come into work every day with a bright smile on your face, even though that terrible man is waiting for you at home.”

“I guess being here, making pies and making people happy with the pies that I make is the only time I get to escape from being Billy’s wife. We were so young we got together, and I was too dumb to realise that being Mrs. Hargrove wasn’t all that I thought it was going to be. I've been with him for so long that somewhere down the line I forgot what it was like to just be myself.” you huff, wringing your hands together in your lap. “Not Billy’s wife, not Mrs. Hargrove, just Y/n.”

“Well, you know what? Just Y/N happens to be one of my best friends, and I’m so glad that I get to exist in a world with you in it.” she smiles. “And I’m sure as hell this baby is going to have one of the best mothers that they could ever want for.”

Just as you were settling into the warmth of Nancy’s kind words you’re brought out of it by the blaring horn coming from Billy’s car as it cruised to a stop in front of you.

“Alright, well I’ll see you on Friday Nance, I love you.” you give her a final hug before getting up.

“I love you too darling, take care of yourself.”

 You close your eyes as best you can, desperately trying to fall asleep and ignore Billy’s presence in the bed beside you, but that proved to be an impossibility as his form leered over your shoulder, placing a trail of kisses to your shoulder.

“Babe, I know you’re awake, why don’t you come a little closer and treat me how a good wife treats her husband, huh?” He says in that way he does when he’s trying to get what he wants from you. It makes your skin crawl.

“I don’t feel like it.” you mutter, burying yourself deeper under the covers of the duvet in the hopes that somehow the world would just disappear around you.

“What makes you think you have that option, hmm?” his hand traces up your arm, and it’s all you can do to close your eyes as he leans close, his voice in  your ear. “I feed you, I pay for the roof over our heads, I put clothes on your back, c’mon all you gotta do is reach behind and give me a little hand-job or something? I ain’t askin’ for the world, sweetcheeks,”

“Billy, please, I’m really tired. I just want to sleep.”

“Fine, if you’re not going to look after me, I guess I’m just going to have to take matters into my own hands.” he grumbles, before getting out of bed and making his way to the bathroom. “I’m gonna go have a shower and jerk off since you wanna be a bitch about it.” 

The bathroom door closes behind him and you suddenly let go of a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding on to. A relief washes over you, finally a chance at peace. You snuggle down into the sheets, laying a protective hand settling around your growing bump.

Dear Baby, I hope someday someone wants to hold you for twenty minutes straight, and that’s all they do. Without any expectations, hope or agenda, and they don’t pull away. All they do is wrap you up in their arms and hold on to you tight without an ounce of selfishness to it.

Steve had texted you, apologising for showing up to the diner unannounced, asking you for the chance to make it up to you. You told him that it was fine, that his apology wasn’t necessary but he still insisted so, you told him to come to your house at 8.00 am sharp, but to stay behind the cover of the trees on the opposite street, watching out for Billy as he took off for work for the day.

Pregnant, affair with your doctor, lying to your husband pie. Chopped walnuts and pecans, lumpy oatmeal with raisins instead of chocolate chips thrown in for good measure, flambé, of course..

At 8 am sharp there’s a knock on your door, and you can’t help the excited buzz you feel settling its place in your heart. You pad your way towards your front door, waddling slightly as you walk, the past few weeks in your pregnancy had suddenly made the easy, everyday things very difficult and tiresome. Your belly was now rounding out in front of you very prominently, there was certainly no hiding the fact that you were pregnant now.

“Hey, I just wanted to apologise for upsetting you last week, I didn’t mean to just show up to the diner unannounced like that, but I was driving past and before I knew it I was pulling up just to come and see you.”

He’s dressed in a simple and soft navy henley shirt, and pair of light-wash denim jeans, his hair flounces in a perfectly messy style that on anyone else would have looked unkempt, but he carries it off so effortlessly. As you bring him in for a hug, his warm and woodsy scent fills your senses, wishing he would hold you for just a bit longer, if only to be surrounded in his welcoming warmth.

“That’s really sweet of you, Steve. Why don’t you come in?” you say, standing back and opening the door for him to come through. “Billy’s gone for the day, and I’m off work, so I was going to spend my day trial-running a couple of new pie flavours, you wanna join me?”

“I would love nothing more.” he smiles in that glorious way that he always does, pink lips curving into rose-tinted cheeks.

You set out all your ingredients and mixing bowls on the kitchen’s work table, before reaching for your apron that hangs on the hook of the kitchen’s door.

“Here, let me.” Steve says as he takes the apron from your hands, and pulls it over your head. The material clinging to your belly. “Turn around for me.” and as you turn around, you feel his strong hands tying off the strings of the apron in a neat little bow at your back.

You bring out the pastry you had already made from the fridge before handing it over to Steve.

“Here, do me a favour, sprinkle some flour down and roll this out for me please.”

He does as you ask, dusting the worktop in flour before placing down the pastry and rolling the rolling pin over it.

“How’s this?” he smiles looking at you from over his shoulder where you are mixing together the filling for the pie on the stovetop. A slowly stewing mixture of pink rhubarb, green apples and red cherries, bubbling together in a sugary sweet-syrupy mixture.

“Looks good, now all we’ve got to is blind bake the pie shell for a couple of minutes whilst this comes together.” 

“Mmhmm” he hums gently, the pie shell in its tin ready to go, left out on the worktop for a moment as he turns his attention to you, brushing your hair away from your neck as gently kisses your soft skin. 

“Y’know, it was my mom who taught me how to bake a pie. I would sit on the kitchen counters every time and just watch her as she worked. She was always so happy in what she was doing, not once did I ever see her in the kitchen without a smile on her face. She’d come up with all these different flavours and combinations and it was delicious every single time. She’d always tell me that the secret ingredient was love, and I don’t know if I ever fully believed her until I started baking for myself. She’d always give the pies the strangest names too, like ‘Bed-Time Story pie’ or ‘Summer Vacation pie’, my favourite one was ‘Pretty Baby pie’, she told me that that was the pie she made when she found out she was pregnant with me.”

“And what’s this one called?” he asks, nodding towards the mixture of fruit bubbling away on the stove.

“Well let’s just call it, hidden lover’s pie” you smile, turning the stovetop off and turning to look at him and as he looks back at you he cups your face in his hands and kisses your lips so sweetly. Pulling back from your lips he smiles at you so warmly.

“You're so beautiful.”

“I’m fat.” you laugh softly, resting a hand on your baby bump.

“You’re pregnant, there’s nothing in the world more beautiful than that.”

“Well I sure as hell don’t feel beautiful. I’m tired and cranky, totally not prepared and have no idea what I’m even doing. Just thinking about having this baby makes me scared as hell. I don’t know how to be a mother.”

“Nobody knows what they’re doing the first time they have a baby. I mean, my friend, Eddie and his wife had a baby not too long ago, and that man was the most nervous, terrified, panicked father-to-be that I had ever seen, but as soon as I delivered that little baby girl and he got to hold her in his arms for the first time? It was like a switch flipped in his brain and it all suddenly clicked into place.” 

“You delivered her?”

“Yeah, little Lydia Munson, I’m her god-father too. She’s a sweet kid, and her parents love her so much, she makes them very happy.”

You give a short hum as Steve takes your hands and pulls you close to his body, wrapping his arms around you in a safe, loving hug.

“..She makes them happy, just like being right here, with you in my arms, makes me happy.” he says, and with that he wastes no time in kissing his lips against yours once more, one hand tangled in your hair, the other hand is a steady presence on the curve your hip as he leans into you more to deepen the kiss.

You make me happy too, Steve, more than you could ever know.

You allow yourself this moment of quiet and blissful peace in Steve’s arms. A chance to let yourself just be taken as you are, not as Billy’s wife, not as the waitress from the diner, just as Y/N, nothing more, nothing less.

@keerygal @penguinsandpotterheads @mrsjellymunson @paybacksawitch @seatnights @ali-r3n @potatobeanpies

[xxxninjaxxx23]

A girl and her crush!

Part 1

Tara x Ethan

In the quiet town of Woodsboro California, 18 year old Tara Carpenter is at home cooking a big meal after hearing that Sam, her older sibling is coming over for a visit. It’s been about 5 years since Sam left for college in Modesto. It took a while but she managed to get a bachelors degree in law firm. She now works as a lawyer and a “damn good one too” as Tara quotes it.

The little sibling herself is almost about to finish high school and her father Stu Macher couldn’t be more proud. Ah yes, ever since her mother Christina Carpenter died of cirrhosis (a result to the past drinking) Stu made it his mission to raise his only daughter and her half sibling. The word “half” shocked the young sister when Stu told her that Sam’s father is his former best friend Billy Loomis.

From the stories she heard from her dad and Sam, Billy was an awful parent. He was always high on drugs or messing around in clubs rather than help take care of his own family and when he was home, he always lashed out at Christina over small things like someone taking the last orange or something not being cleaned.

Sam was no exception and has too suffered Billy’s wrath to where Christina would use makeup to cover up Sam’s bruises. Eventually Billy left the family and never came back. Stu used to check up on them every now and then, even berated Billy for beating his own family. He once got into a deadly fight with the said friend but despite Stu being taller and more fit, Billy’s strength tripled with drugs in his system and sometimes it took even Christina’s help to stop him.

Nevertheless, Stu and Christina kept each other company. One thing led to another and eventually Tara was born.

Tara didn’t realize how much she zoned on until she heard the smoke alarm go off “Ahh! Oh no, no!” Tara quickly turned off the oven and took out the garlic bread. It was a bit overcooked and looked very crunchy.

Stu ran into the kitchen “Tara What was that? Are you overcooking the food again?” He said with a sly smile. Tara giggled, her dad has always been a goofball always up for fun and jokes. “Um the garlic bread might be a little crunchy. But at least the pasta is ok.”

Stu smiled “Look at you already cooking meals by the age of 18.” He stared off into the window “If only your mother could have seen you now.” Tara nodded. She knew Stu was still grieving along with her as well. Christina wasn’t as bad as Billy was if you take away the bottles.

‘It’s actually Billy’s fault that mom started drinking heavily, eventually leading to her death’ Tara thought.

Then the pair hear the doorbell ring. Stu picks up the spoon and seasons the pasta “There’s your sister! I’ll take it from here sweetie, why don’t you show the guests to their table?” Tara nodded “Sure thing Mr chef.” She said before heading to the front door.

Tara opens the door where she’s greeted by Sam and a tall man with a beard. “Sam!!” Tara said hugging her as Sam hugged back. “Tara!! It’s been so long.” She takes another look at Tara. “My gosh. Look how much you’ve grown.”

The bearded man speaks up “Grown as in more mature right?” Tara shot a glare at him “Ha,ha. I may be small but I can still bite if I need to.” She said making a bite gesture at him.

Sam lightly slaps his shoulder “Richie!” Then turning over to Tara “O-K before this gets awkward. Tara this is Richie, my boyfriend. Richie this is my sister, Tara”

“Pleased to meet you “little” sister.” Tara got mad again but shook his hand a little rough “If you call me little or short one more time, I’ll tear your arm off.” Richie smiled “Well we don’t want that to happen now do we?”

Tara led the couple to the table as dinner was just about ready “I’ll go get the plates, don’t get too comfortable at dinner you two.” Tara said laughing as Sam tossed a napkin ball at her.

Tara gathered the plates with the food ready to go as Stu turned off the stove. “Um dad…we kinda need one more plate.” Stu hung up his kiss the cook apron “Oh? Did Sam invite a friend over.” Tara had to stop herself from laughing “Y-yeah a friend…I guess you could say that.”

Stu was confused for a minute but took another plate out and filled it, handing the dish to Tara. The sibling brought out the plates to the couple who shared a kiss “Um. Mr bearded man, you might not want to do that while my dad is here. Richie looked a little nervous but Sam held his hand.

“It’s ok sweetie. Our dad is nice one you get to know him.”

Tara smirked “Really? Because I saw him go wide eyed when you brought up having a “boyfriend” years ago. “Tara!” She shrugged “What? It’s true…Oop here he comes.”

Tara quickly takes her seat as Stu brought out the last two plates for him and Tara. He sets them down as his eye caught a man sitting at the table next to Sam “So you must be the “friend” Tara was talking about.”

Tara covered her mouth, snickering. Sam looked down for a minute then back up to her father. “Dad this is Richie….m-my boyfriend.”

Stu almost went wide eyed but kept a calm expression as he walked up and introduced himself to Richie which he did the same “it’s a pleasure to meet you sir” he said. Tara shook her head at Richie like saying “Good luck man, your gonna need it.”

As the family eats the well made dinner Tara prepared, Stu asks everyone what their future plans are, mostly Richie. “Well sir. I do like movies and writing in my free time. Im hoping to be a movie writer one day.”

Stu nodded “I’m a movie guy myself but writing one has always been a challenge for me.”

Tara looked over at Sam and Richie “Well dad I think these two can help you with that and make your dream come true.” Sam shook her head and nudged her boyfriend “Nope that’s all him. I’m just here to make sure he doesn’t get roped into a lawsuit or save him from one.”

Stu clapped his hands as he turned over to Tara “what about you sweetie? You going to follow in your sister’s footsteps or mine?” Tara smiled “Neither. I’m going to study to be an actress. It’s always been my thing ever since I was a kid.”

“I think I remember you begging me to buy you a stage.” Stu said, laughing “You wouldn’t let up so Sam and I had to make one out of cardboard.

After that, you asked me to be the cameraman while Sam was your co-Star on stage.”

Sam grinned “I still remember that all too well.” Then the family continued to talk to one another while finishing off their food.

(Later) “Sam you can take the guest room.” Stu said as he went to wash off the dishes. Richie was about to join Sam in the room but was pulled back by Tara. “What gives?” He said. Tara raised a brow and gestured over to her father in the kitchen. “Ohhh right, right.”

Tara called from the kitchen “Dad. I think Richie wants to stay the night is that’s ok?”

“Sure. Just make sure you get a blanket and pillow for him. You know where we keep them.” While Tara went to get a blanket and pillow for Richie, Sam went to the kitchen to chat with her step dad some more.

“So you got a new boyfriend huh?” Stu said as he was putting the clean dishes on the drying rack. Sam nodded as she put the drying towel away “Yes I do but….please don’t scare him away dad.”

“I won’t pumpkin. Your an adult now free to make your own decisions. I’ll have to respect them but you know I only want what’s best for you and Tara.” He looked out the window

“God knows I wouldn’t want you girls to end up in your mothers position because of….him.”

Sam didn’t say anything except hugging Stu from behind, letting tears fall from her eyes.

Afterwards, the family turns in for the night. Richie takes the couch much to Tara’s dismay as she wanted to play video games in the living room.

(The next morning)

Tara woke up later than her family as expected but she finds the guest room and couch empty. She heads into the kitchen to find Stu cooking breakfast “Hey dad, did Sam and Richie leave?” Stu shook his head. “Oh no they are just heading out to get groceries, they’ll be back shortly.”

Tara nodded as she decided to play video games in the living room as it was the weekend yet again. She invited Mindy and Chad game to play back 4 blood with her.

They all got excited to play another round and try to get further in the game. As they started up the game, Tara got lost in her thoughts.

The last week and chapter of her school life is drawing to a close and Tara was sweating bullets. She has yet to decide on what university to go to and if she would get accepted in.

‘Stop it Tara! You’re worrying too much about the future. I mean yes my career relies on me getting into the right school and making it in the big city.

“Damit! Noo. We were so close” Mindy said. Chad then spoke up “Tara? You still there.” Which the small girl snapped out of her thoughts and answered back.

“Sorry guys. I-I just need a moment. I’ll be right back”

Tara sets her headset down and does a quick skim through the photos on her phone. She smiled by how many pictures she took when hanging out with her friends. But her heart sank when it was her and a certain bleached haired boy she knew all too well. Tara also asked herself why she still kept them.

Seeing those pictures of him on her phone caused Tara to bury her face in her hands and sob. (though the mic was still on)

She still remembers that text and the girl with him all too well.

To be continued

[tookishcombeferre]

Metamorphosis & Mutation: A Cedric the Sorcerer Playlist

My hand slipped and made a 2+ hour playlist. My challenge for myself was that I was not allowed to use *any* of the songs from the series.

If you know how much I love music, you know I love a good challenge. There are one or two songs that cuss in them. (Only one "f-bomb" from a Passenger song, but it's worth it because the song "Fairytales and Firesides" is beautiful. The line "We are bitter losers, snarling through our smiles" was just too perfect to pass up.)

"The Incident" and its immediate aftermath is represented by "The Sacrifice of Faramir" for ... reasons. It just felt perfect. Any LotR fans will likely understand that and where my mind was going with that one. (Surprising number of parallels between Sofia and Pippin, Cedric and Faramir, and Goodwyn and Denethor. Might make a post about this eventually. Due to the casting in movies, which don't get me wrong, overall I love, very few people remember (or know) that, in the novels, Pippin was 28 at the beginning of the book and turns 29 in Gondor near the end of the trilogy. Hobbits don't reach full cultural maturity, and are considered minors, until 33. Billy Boyd was actually the oldest of the hobbit actors. So, most people forget that/ don't know that fact. But, now you know! :D) (I may or may not have spent four years of my life researching these books and relationships in almost monastic levels of isolation except for when my [now] spouse and our mutual friends would drag me out my dorm room to ensure I ate and hydrated myself. The sad thing is I am only kind of hyperbolizing.) A note on the song "I Found" by Amber Run - that is meant platonically/ paternally. If people read anything else into that DON'T. Just DON'T. (For people who have read "In the Flares of the Sun," and continue to read it, this song will hit different. The whole idea of "I found love where it wasn't supposed to be, right in front of me, talk some sense to me." is just ... it hits. Platonically. It hits from two directions for folks who have read the chapter "First, Do No Harm." Honestly, this song has always given me *deep friendship* vibes more than anything else anyway. The first playlist I ever used it on was an adopted mother-daughter relationship in a dystopian novel I was writing. It was used right alongside "You'll Be In My Heart" from Tarzan. So, if you want to know the vibes I get from this song, now you know. The kid was based on Thomas Paine so it was actually a "Common Sense" pun. ;D) "Show Me" by Idina Menzel is also intended platonically. I first heard that song on an Anna and Elsa tribute video so I've always thought of that song platonically. But, if you're gonna weird about either of those songs, just don't. With that out of the way, there are some very "me" choices in here. "This is the Moment" from Jekyll and Hyde was my *jam* in middle school. I almost broke my CD of the "dream cast album" with Anthony Warlow as Jekyll/Hyde playing it so many times on my CD player before I got an iPod. (I NEVER claimed I was not old, y'all. Also, I'm actually auditioning for the role of Jekyll/Hyde in December. XD) The fact that there is both Jason Robert Brown and Marianas Trench on this playlist is a very "me" choice. Also, yes, I did put two songs from the new Hunchback of Notre Dame with Michael Arden as Quasimodo on here. Don't *judge* me. (Made of Stone is a perfect song for Cedric, COME ON!) Also, if I chose to set Cedric's rant to Roland as "If It's True" from Hadestown. It is *my* prerogative to give my sad trash-panda this beautiful rant. If I wanna play that pre-dungeon moment as a little more justified because it felt a little more true than not ... it's *my* playlist. (Hadestown is based on the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice. The song "If It's True" is set just after Orpheus has just gotten his butt whooped by Hades and told that he's worthless, that he's basically lower than dirt, and that music and love are meaningless.) (1. I'm absolutely setting this playlist in the universe of "In the Flares of the Sun." So, mild spoiler, in the first verse of this song, for backstory about something that has only been implied so far, but is coming up in a future chapter. The spoiler is very blink and you'll miss it. It's like a line and a half of the song. But, it's there, and I did choose the song intentionally because of the backstory I built in the world of that fic/ other fics I'm planning for future. So, you'll get a brief glimpse into my brain. 2. But, let's be real:

"'Cause the ones who tell the lies/ Are the solemnest to swear/ And the ones who load the dice/ Always say the toss is fair/ And the ones who deal the cards/ Are the ones who take the tricks/ With their hands over their hearts/ While we play the game they fix/ And the ones who speak the words/ Always say it is the last/ And no answer will be heard/ To the question no one asks" Mmmmm ... so perfect. So angry. Also that: "Tell me what to do" - so many different characters that could be directed towards.) But, this is also why I put the world's best anti-villain anthem that sounds like a Disney-princess "I want song" right before it. It's about the *juxtaposition.* It's about the *nuance.* (Cedric basically is Dr. Jekyll. Okay? It's probably why I love him. Jekyll/Hyde has long been a favorite character of mine.) Also, I'm obsessed with Collabro. Their covers are so good, and the story of how they came together is so supremely weird and serendipitous. Look them up. They do not disappoint. Also, "Chosen Family" is one of my favorite songs ever. I used the one where Rina Sawayama and Elton John sing together. Though, Rina Sawayama is the original writer. I love both versions, but I also just love Elton John so much, and I love the version where he sings with her. I hope y'all enjoy it too. I will spread the gospel of this song forever because I just love it. And, I had to end with the credit's song of "The Tigger Movie" - "Your Heart Will Lead You Home" - because that movie destroys me every single time I watch it. The end. That's my notes on this. There are a whole bunch of other songs I didn't cover. But, yeah. These are the ones I wanted to make notes on. This got really long. If you can't tell music is something of a special interest of mine. I managed to refrain from putting full blown oprea on here. You're welcome. I'm not sure exactly where I would have gone if I *had* decided to put opera on here. But, it's not an impossibility or something I wouldn't do, or haven't done, for other character playlists in the past. XD

[chaparro0456]

Damian school days series 

Prologue Part 2

Bruce is with Damian in the library

Damian: Father is there something you need I’m in middle reading the art of war it’s quite interesting book

Bruce: How would you like if I sent you to an  academy to further your education

Damian: No need I can teach myself just tell what subject you want me to study and I’ll learn it on my own

Bruce: Damian i think it’s best if I sent you to school starting next semester

Damian: If you think it’s for the best then I won’t argue against it

Bruce:That was easier then I thought it will be

Damian: I just have one request I don’t want to share a class with drake

Bruce: Oh you’re not going high school you’re going to an elementary school

Domain: No I rather share a class with drake then be surrounded by children 

Bruce: Damian kiddo you are a child your only 8 years old and it’s important for children including you to have a proper education and socialize with kids your own age you might even make lasting friendships

Damian: I already have friends Jon and Billy I don’t need more

Bruce: Damian Billy is 13 i wouldn’t say that near your age and Jon is a great friend of yours but he’s a 3 hour drive away and you don’t always get to see him besides from y’all super sons portals even then it’s just hero work

Damian pouts silently

Bruce: Look kiddo when your mother sent you to me I promise to myself to try to give you a regular childhood

Damian: I doubt most American children live in big mansion or don’t have an elephant named Dumbo 

bruce: A somewhat normal childhood kiddo you’re my son and I want what’s best for you and I believe that best is being around other children like yourself

Damian: I guess…. you’re not sending me to an away school are you

Bruce: Kiddo no it’s just for a few hours a day I’m not going to send you anywhere where I can’t reach you

Damian: Okay I’ll give it try but I probably won’t like it

Bruce: Who knows maybe you will like it

Bruce ruffled Damian hair

Damian: Do I need supplies

Bruce: Yes you would how about next week you could go with Tim and pick out a backpack pencil case folders and anything else you may need or want

Damian: Alright baba

Bruce gave a soft smile to Damian before he left the library

Damian couldn’t explain it but he was nervous he doesn’t know why



Previously Next (will be a link soon)

[inlovewithalotoffandoms]

Quitting?

Scott McCall x Sister!Reader

Stiles Stilisnki x Fem!Reader

Summary: With the help of your brother Scott, Stiles finds out the true "identity" of your "manager", and you confront him.

"Why won't Billy let her go overseas?"

"Sacurity Stilinski, you know that."

"BS! Billy is killing his greatest asset without a reason. So what's the reason?"

"Loomis always has his reasons."

Stiles scoffed and walked out of the room. He then decided to go see Scott for help.

"Stiles, Y/N's not here."

"I was actually looking for Scott."

"Scott's not home either. He went with Y/N."

"Did they tell you where?"

"No. Sorry Stiles but i really have to go to work."

"I think I know where they could be. Thanks Mellisa."

He then went straight to the one place he knows where you are. He opened the door to see you, Scott and Billy talking. When you looked over your shoulder and saw him you ran and kissed him.

"Stiles, hey. Oh I missed you so much."

"Missed you more."

"Uhh, big brother and the manger still here."

Time Skip

"Y/N, hey babe, wait up!" Stiles called out as he ran to catch up to you in the school hallway.

"What is it, Stiles? I gotta go." You tell him.

"He lied," Stiles stated as he got straight to the point.

"Who?" You asked.

"Billy, he lied. There wasn't going to be an International tour because he can't leave the country. He's got no citizenship, no official identity. He's got no passport, no bank account. He doesn't freaking exist." The sarcastic boy ranted.

"Whatcha talkin' 'bout, Stiles?" You asked in an accent.

"He's saying that Billy has been lying to you this whole time." Scott jumped in as he rounded the corner.

Time Skip

"Oh, you blood-suckin' old vampire. You bled me dry, and you still want more?"

"I'm not an uncaring man, Ms McCall."

"Don't you 'Ms McCall' me, you toad!"

"If you are so determined to get out of our contract-"

"You're damn right I want out!"

"Well, I will personally loan you the money that you owe to Jamboree Attractions."

"You-You still have your claws on me! You still have me working here like a damn slave in a salt mine! You phoney, no good piece of trash! And I'll shoot you in your freaking face if I have to!"

After a moment of silence, you spoke up again, "Billy, who are you?"

"I am you, you are me."

"Cut the horse-shit! Everything I've ever known about you's been a lie!"

"Y/N/N, you all good?"

"My past is the least of your problems, my dear. Everyone else you associate with lives from you Y/N, even Scott..That's right even your own Brother has looked after himself before he's looked after you. Yes, I have lived from you too but the difference is you have also lived from me." He then continued, "We have supported each other because we share the dream. We are the same you and I."

"We are not the same! I was innocent before you cane along and screwed me up!"

"I'm out. I'm getting the money and you are gonna leave me, my brother and my mother alone. You got the Billy? If that even is your name."

The was another moment of silence before the older men spoke up again, "Maybe you should fly away, my dear. Away from all of this, but. If you do choose to leave, then I for one would be very lonely, so would your mother and brother. But I think you may be lonely too or you'll see, my girl the truth about the rock of eternity...It is forever, just beyond her reach."

"Hey, Billy!, f u!"