cell phone out

geminidragonjasminealexandra  asked:

Let's fight! (Pulls out cell phone and plays Pokemon Go) I am taking your GYM! Yes, the one at the library! Mwhaha! I am so evil! Look! I am going to put a Blissy 2k+ on it so it will be a pain in the butt to get back!

Noooooo! *thunk* 

Why are you the way that you are????

The Friendly Wager (Part 1)

Summary: AU. Reader and Bucky Barnes are neighbors and best friends. After yet another bad date, reader comes home to find Bucky with his typical weekend target. They decide to make a wager about dating, but is there more on the line than reader cares to admit?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 2,528

Warnings: language, fluff, sarcasm, bad date, implied sexual situations (no smut)

A/N: This is my submission for the lovely Kait’s ( @bionic-buckyb) 5k AU Challenge. Congrats on the followers, friend! My prompt was “Can you please come over so I don’t feel so alone?” I think this will have at least seven parts, so Kait, please feel free to disregard it till it’s completed :)

Part 1 - 2

Originally posted by talkinboutmyimagination

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anonymous asked:

I know your crazy busy with life and use your writing time for drive and winter song but... Could you write a smol sick fic? Nothing long or extravagant! It would be a blessing.

Summary: Yuuri falls ill during a practice at the Ice Castle. Pre-Episode 5.


When Victor excused himself from practice to take a quick phone call, Yuuri was fine. Perhaps a little quieter than normal while he rehearsed a combination spin out on the Ice Castle rink, one gloved hand extended gracefully overhead, but there was no indication that anything was wrong.

He was fine.

How that changed so quickly was anyone’s guess.

Victor was gone for less than five minutes, and when he returned, Yuuri was on his knees in the center of the rink with his head in his hands. Victor took one look and started running, even before he fully registered what he was seeing. He wasn’t wearing his skates for practice today, but that didn’t stop him from running out onto the ice and slipping and sliding for the first few steps before he regained his balance.

“Yuuri.” Victor came to a clumsy stop in front of him, and when he dropped to his knees, the ice soaked through the fabric of his pants. He grasped Yuuri’s shoulder and said, “What happened. Did you fall?”

Yuuri was shaking. His face was so pale that even his lips had lost their color, and he kept squeezing his eyes shut and reopening them as if to clear his vision. “Dizzy,” he said.

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technically single || stuart twombly (smut)

word count: 6278

warnings: oral (both receiving), smut, strip club, unestablished relationship

author’s note: so i was listening to the way i are by timbaland and i just felt the need to use it as some sinsipration! enjoy xo

pairing: stuart twombly / reader

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Heart Of Gold

PAIRING: Peter Parker x Reader (Female)

(ANONYMOUS) REQUEST PROMPT: Reader comforting Peter with reassuring and loving words after being bullied by Flash Thompson.

WRITTEN BY: @spiderlingy / Krystal W.

WARNINGS: Angst & fluff.




    You calmly strutted through the laughter-filled halls of Midtown High School with your textbooks clutched against your chest, sparing a genuine smile to the students who waved in your direction. According to the teachers and students throughout Midtown High School, you were considered to be an intelligent and well-respected student. You had grades above an A in every class and did not mind tutoring another student. You were also well-known throughout the school due to your spot on the school’s swimming team. Being properly raised by your parents, you’d grown to be very lady-like, calm, generous, and warmhearted. You enjoyed brightening up a person’s day and helping a person in need. Doing kind gestures would make your heart flutter in happiness and satisfaction. You cared so much about helping others that sometimes you would even forget to help yourself.

    Shortly, you arrived at your locker and dialed the combination of the lock. Unlocking it, the first thing you saw was an old photo taped on the locker door—you smiled at the sight of it. The photo was of you and your best friend, Peter Parker. Your head rested on his shoulder, smiles displayed on the both of your features. The memorable photo was taken a few years ago. When his parents died, Aunt May and Uncle Ben had became his surrogate parents and took him in. When you found out about his parents’ death, you refused to leave his side. You two had been inseparable ever since. Even through the toughest times, Peter was always there for you as you were always there for him. It’s you and Peter against the world—together, you were invincible

      Most of the times, when you were over at Peter’s house, you two would just do homework, have deep conversations, or watch movies and cuddle next to each other wrapped in blankets. Aunt May would walk in to catch you two sleeping the night away together—cherishing the adorable sight by sneaking a quick picture. Aunt May and Uncle Ben were convinced that you and Peter were destined to be best friends, or even more, since the very start when you two had met in elementary school.

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x-files au crossover where mulder is the beast but instead of a rose it’s a clock gradually winding down 9 minutes and scully is belle but instead of books it’s science (she’s been strange since her mother mysteriously disappeared) and then her dad dies so her uncle walter takes custody but she trades her freedom to save him so he has to go get help from the town doctor daniel waterson aka gaston meanwhile at the castle frohike (lumiere) and byers (cogsworth) along with scully’s missing mom maggie (mrs. potts) and emily (chip) are trying to get her to break the curse which can only be broken if someone actually believes mulder PLEASE SOMEONE WRITE THIS

anonymous asked:

What would happen if the chocobros + nyx find their s/o having a little fun with their self moaning their name ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Chocobros Reacting to your ‘ALONE TIME’

Keep scrolling for good times! <3

Noctis: He hesitates passing by your guest suite at the castle. I guess you didn’t shut the door all the way. (shrugs) The first thing he hears is the electronic buzzing of your vibrator. Let’s be open here, ok? You know Noctis would be a little rough in bed. So you’ve got the highest, most intense setting on that thing turned up just when he strolls past the doorway. He hears your whimpering, as if in pain. That makes him stop completely in his tracks. But he’s baffled when he hears his name echo into the corridor in a low purr. When he hears his own name a third time, he is certain of what you’re doing and has an instant erection. He struggles with whether or not to come in and join you. GODS he wants to join you and dig in. He hears the shuffling of footsteps behind him, decides to close your door for you, and retreats to his own quarters for a hot jerking session.

Prompto: You’re out camping with Prompto (as friends) doing little photo shoots together for a local mag. At the end of the night, you part ways into separate tents. Prompto’s out for a late night snack when he hears you fooling around. The sound of your moaning mixing with the midnight symphony of the cicadas is the most pleasurable sound he’s ever heard in his life. He may be innocent, but there’s no doubt in his mind you’re having a little party for one in there. He tries to block out your quiet cries as he searches through the food supply when he hears his name coming from your tent. His breath catches in the back of his throat like a hundred pound brick. Did he just imagine that? His hands stop all movement to get a better listen. … He hears your voice raise while you work closer to a climax and his name spills into the night air. Whooo boy. Prompto rushes back to his tent for his OWN party of one.

Gladiolus: You’ve been good friends with Iris for a really long time and you’re staying the night at the Amicitia household for the hundredth time. No big deal. And like usual, your massive crush on Gladio keeps you at a safe distance to avoid any awkward conversations. But that night, the family’s been enjoying a little casual drinking and urged you to join. When you retire to the guest room and settle down for a little aroused relaxation time, Gladio decides to come and voice his OWN feelings for you. Before knocking on the door, he hears the subtle squeaking of the metal bed frame as you rock into your own fingers. He retracts his hand and considers walking away when he hears you growling his name. After that, he enters the room quietly, slides into bed WITH you and replaces your hand with his. (”It’s been too long since we’ve kept this to ourselves, princess.”)

Ignis: Iggy KNOWS you’re mad about him. And he uses it as a tool to keep you worked up all fucking day. You’ve been dating for months now and intimacy is not uncommon. As a matter of fact, sex happens all the time. But for some reason, today he’s decided to tease you to no end. He drops you off at home one night after a date, and apologizes that he can’t stay over. He’s got some important meeting early in the morning. (god damnit.) You don’t even make it to your bed. The sexual tension has you laid out half naked, in the dark, on your living room couch. Your panties are DONE FOR. But … you forgot your cell phone in Iggy’s car. He has keys to your apartment and quietly lets himself inside. When he sees you with legs outstretched on the sofa, sobbing his name over and over again, he knows he won’t be getting any sleep tonight. He locks the apartment door behind him, and calmly removes one article of clothing at a time with each step closer to you. You’re not even aware of this slick mother fucker’s presence until his weight is on top of you and green eyes are blazing into yours. (”You left something in the car, my sweet. I thought it was just your cell phone. As it turns out, you left ME too.”)

Nyx: You and Nyx have been together for a little while now. And tonight there’s been a pretty bad argument. You part ways on negative terms but at the end of the night he’s still the man that shows up  in your fantasy world. You’re soaking in the tub with a waterproof toy between your legs when Nyx has the urge to come apologize for being to stubborn. He warps right through the front door (like he’s smooth or something,) helps himself to a beer from the fridge, then freezes when he hears you whining his name as you edge yourself closer and closer to euphoric freedom. He nods his head and with a little chuckle, sets the beer bottle down. He enters the bathroom without permission. “Even when you’re pissed at me, you still want me.” You’ve gotten an orgasm already, but Nyx kneels beside you outside of the tub, submerges his hand to your sex and works your right.back.up.

So Much

Summary: Ian is married to Mickey when he goes away for three days on a work retreat. Mickey spends some time at the Gallagher’s house with Fi, V, Debbie, and Mandy to accidentally get extremely drunk and confess some things.

Word Count: 1557

“It’s only three days, babe,” Ian says before putting his jacket on.

Mickey nods. “I’ll be fucking fine,” he tries to say convincingly, but Ian sees right through him.

Ian giggles. “A three day work retreat is not something to be so worried about.”

“Not worried,” Mickey lets out a heavy breath, and tries to avoid making eye contact with the taller man. “Just gonna miss you is all.”

Ian smiles and walks closer to his husband. “I’m gonna miss you too.” He places a hand on the dark haired man’s cheek. When Mickey finally looks up, he kisses him lightly. “I gotta go, Mick,” they lean their foreheads together.

“Okay,” Mickey tries to make his voice steady. “Love you,” he smiles.

“Love you too,” Ian says before separating from his husband. He grabs his coat and wave goodbye as he walks out the door.

Mickey stands there for a moment, but he phone cuts off the silence. He sees a text from his sister. “Gallagher house. 7:00. Don’t be late.”

OK, Mandy.” He’s glad he’ll have something to do tonight instead of sit in this apartment all alone.

Instead of doing nothing all day, he cleans for the first time in his life. Chores and cleaning were never enforced rules in his house growing up, so it’s not something he’s used to doing.

To his surprise, housework takes up a lot of time. When he checks the clock, he sees it’s 6:30 already, so he jumps into the shower, changes and starts walking to the Gallagher house.

Mickey walks into his husband’s family’s house and looks around for where everyone is. When he doesn’t see anybody, he makes his way into the kitchen to grab a beer.

Suddenly he hears the back door open, when he turns to see who it is he sees Mandy, Fiona, V, and Debbie. “Hey,” Fiona greets. Mickey tips his beer at her in return.

V starts to chuckle. “Lookin’ a little gloomy, Milkovich,” she says because she knows Ian left for his trip a few hours ago.

He scoffs. “The fuck would I be gloomy for? Who even uses the word ‘gloomy.’”

“I do,” V shoots at him. “And because your boy toy’s gone.” She chuckles.

Mickey rolls his eyes. Luckily, he knows how

to cover his emotions, but he is pretty upset about it. “It’s three fucking days, not the end of the world.”

“A lot can happen in three days, Mick,” Debbie pushes making the other three girls laugh.

He chucks the middle finger in return. “Fuck all of you.” Mickey puts his eyes on his beer making sure no one sees what he’s really feeling.

“Don’t be an asshole,” Mandy says to her brother. “We know you miss him.”

“Fuck off, holy shit,” he hisses. “Let’s eat already.”

Once the girls quit teasing Mickey, they eat their dinners. The five of them sit around the table having conversations about work, raising kids, and just some pointless, silly stuff. After they are done eating, Fiona brings out more alcohol. Mickey rolls his eyes at her and claims he’s ready to leave, but the girls insist that he stays with them instead of being alone.

Unsurprisingly, V is the first to get completely trashed, but to everyone’s amazement, Mickey is just a drunk as her. Mickey can hold his liquor, so they were assuming he had drank much more than them. Instead of drinking with him– Mandy, Debbie, and Fiona decide to joke with him when they see him staring at the wall, deep in thought.

“What’s on your mind, Mickey?” Debbie prys with a grin.


“What about him?” The girl’s notice that his guard is down for the first time in forever, so they crowd around him.

“Miss ‘im. Miss him a lot,” he sighs. “He’s the best, y’know?” Mickey smiles when the others agree with him. “The fucking best.”

The girls giggle. “What do you love about him so much?” Mandy asks before taking her cell phone out to videotape the response.

Suddenly Mickey’s eye widen. “Oh shit. That’s a loaded fuckin’ question.” He pauses. “You want everything, like how and why and when,” he asks confusingly, “or just like the things I love in general? Like all his little freckles and the bright green eyes and shit like that?” No one can believe what they’re hearing– Mickey’s actually going to be sincere for once in his life.

“Ummm, everything. How and why and when– whatever that means.”

He grins. “Here I fucking go,” he prepares himself. “Back when I was seventeen and he stormed into my bedroom with that rusty ass crowbar to try to get the gun I stole from Kash. He was so fucking fearless, and that’s when I knew.”

V raises her eyebrows. “Knew what? You were too fucking stubborn to know anything.”

“No. I knew he’d be the one I loved from that day forward which is why I was so fucking stubborn. It scared the shit outta me, I’ll tell ya,” he snorts. “I wouldn’t kiss him for two years– literally every time he tried I threatened to ‘rip his fucking tongue out.’ The day I did though it really made me know that he was it for me. That feeling we had between us– I was fucking gone for him. I got shot that same day,” he raises his eyebrows. “Why do I always get fucking shot because of him? What the fuck?”

Fiona laughs. “Okay, get back on topic.”

He nods and takes another swig of whiskey. “Then the day when DCFS came and he got sent to that group home,” he starts. The girls give each other the same shocked expression because they’ve heard bits and pieces about this day, just not everything. “That day I invited him to sleepover. He was so happy when I asked– God, that cute fucking laugh he had,” he shakes his head. “Anyway, he came over after work and we watched movies and I made food for us, it was nice, which I’d never have admitted back then, but it was, I always thought so. We talked, we kissed a little, we fucked–” he pauses and gets a terrified expression on his face. “Then Terry walked in.”

“Mick,” Mandy says under her breath. Though she wants to hear what happened, she nervous to hear the story.

“He fucking caught us. That fucker went straight for Ian. He started punching him, almost knocking him unconscious, but I jumped on his back and screamed for him to leave Ian alone,” he shutters. “That’s when he started on me. Beat me until blood covered my whole face, and after that he was about to head for Ian again. Thank God I found enough strength to hit him again, causing a distraction because I don’t know what he would have done to him. Eventually though, he pistol whipped me and I don’t remember anything from then to until Svetlana came and Terry forced her to rape me–”

“What the fuck did you just say?” Mandy says harshly.


“About Svet?”

“How do you think the bitch got pregnant? Terry forced her to rape me and Ian had to fucking watch,” he says coldly. It was a terrible day for them. “Then after Ian was gone, he said I had to marry her or else he’ll kill Ian. So I did what I needed to do– should’ve told Ian right then though. Maybe he wouldn’t have left.”

They all look at him with sorrowful and shocked eyes as he pauses.

“When I found Ian though– after he left– I knew I couldn’t let him leave ever again. I’ve never needed anyone before, but fuck, I’ve always needed him. I could careless how fucking crazy he is, I need him and I’ve loved him in all his twisted and fucked up forms.” He starts to smile. “So what I’m saying is that I love him so much because we survived all that shit. Through all of that, he still managed to turn me into a better man and a better father to Yev. So that’s why.”

Debbie jumps on Mickey, pulling him in for a tight hug. She can’t believe the two of them needed to go through so much to get to where they are today. Once Debbie let go and Mickey looks around the room, he notices saddened and awed faces. “I also love his red hair, and that fucking smile,” he starts saying to lighten the mood. “And his abs– I mean shit,” he says with a laugh, causing all the girls’ jaws to drop. “Oh and I love his long arms and legs so much because when it’s cold he always wraps himself all the way around me to warm me up. I love that stuff so much,” he snorts. “Or when he clings onto me while he’s sleeping, I love that too.” He smiles. “He’s fucking perfect.”

“Man, you’re gonna hate that we got you this drunk tomorrow,” V laughs as the everything lightens again and she thinks about how Mickey is going to react to the thought of this conversation once he sobers up.

“Well, I’d appreciate me being drunk like this while ya can, ladies,” he laughs and then passes out, leaving the girls to drink by themselves.

anonymous asked:

How do you feel about people claiming that in marrying Bruce, Selina's character will be ruined? I of course see that argument as odd, seeing that she's said numerous times in the past that she wants to be happy, and with that, settling down and having a family. Do you truly think that would waver who Selina is?

You already know that I don’t. I wrote about my thoughts on Selina and family and marriage awhile ago and you can read about it here. Linking it seems like such a cop out but it’s pretty long. On that note I will say this: when people have brought up the idea that getting married would ruin her character I had no idea what they were talking about until I read this. Warning: do not read unless you can afford a spike in blood pressure.

Most notably this critic is says this:

She is a thief.  She is a thrill seeker.  For her, it’s all about the hunt.

And this little gem right here:

I see so many people on social media saying how romantic this is.  It makes me wonder.  Is this just a knee jerk reaction to seeing two long time lovers finally getting together?  Have people really even taken the time to analyze this relationship?  Or, are the ones shipping this the kind of people that value need over want?

Eye roll to the fullest. As a Batcat blogger I take that as a personal challenge. Yes, we have taken the time to analyze this relationship and we have almost 80 years of material to go on and I’ve come with the receipts. 

I suppose this is what most people are referring to when they say that Catwoman’s character would be “ruined” if she got married. Those who are saying that are grossly oversimplifying her character and missing an important part of Catwoman’s development as a character. It reduces Catwoman to just a thief and that does her such a huge disservice. It has been true across multiple versions and media that, Catwoman does not always want to be defined as a thief. That thrill of thievery that they’re referring to, and Selina has said this herself multiple times, wears off. Thieving and other criminal activity has gotten her thrown in prison, almost killed, and she’s had to fake her death a couple of times because of it (as recently as Future’s End). The criminal lifestyle has almost ruined her life and eventually it ends up making her feel empty and trapped. 

Going back to the Bronze Age after Selina spends some time in prison for her crimes as Catwoman once she’s paroled she wants to move on and distance herself from her past. (Batman #308)

Later on during a meeting with Bruce she tries to disguise herself because she worries that being seen in public with her will hurt his reputation and cause a scandal. (Batman #313) 

Skipping ahead to the Pre-Flashpoint era Catwoman’s second on-going series was all about her reforming and becoming the defender of Gotham’s east end. In the very first issue of her series we get a lot from Selina’s perspective on why she does it. To really understand you’ll have to read her first on-going series because a lot of stuff went down towards the end of it that makes Selina disenchanted by the criminal lifestyle. At the beginning of her second series she can’t even bring herself to put on the costume because it’s brought her so much suffering and she feels defined by what she considers to be past mistakes. (Catwoman [v3] #1)

I don’t think that Selina thinks that marriage is the end all be all, but I definitely don’t think that it’s something that she’d completely rule out either. In fact I think that Selina hasn’t seriously considered it because she just never thought that it was an option for her. It’s funny to me that so many people think that Selina is strictly anti-marriage when 1) she’s never said that before and there’s nothing in canon to indicate that she feels that way and 2) some versions of her have expressed a desire to have a family. 

I wrote about this in my previous post but from Catwoman’s second series while Selina steals an ancient dollhouse she talks about her childhood and mourns the loss of her family and the fact that she missed out on that stability growing up. I think that indicates that there is some kind desire to regain that. (Catwoman [v2] #39)

There it is–Everything I’ve always wanted. Everything I’ve never had…Preserved over millennia in perfect condition. Priceless miniature. Stable family.

Emphasis mine. I also can’t stress enough that Catwoman’s Earth-2 counterpart point blank said that she wanted a family and a new life badly enough that she came up with some ludicrous lie about having amnesia in order to obtain it, but she thought it was too late. Earth-2 Catwoman ends up marrying Batman and having a child. The Brave and the Bold #197 was all about Bruce and Selina’s desire to start a new life and finding happiness with each other. In the Bronze Age version Bruce and Selina both retire to raise their daughter together and in the latest version they raise her as a crime fighter. That proves that marriage doesn’t “trap” Selina by any means. She did however feel trapped being Catwoman.

Still not convinced? Okay. I know that The Dark Knight Rises isn’t everyone’s favorite version of Catwoman, but something Christopher Nolan got right… Selina Kyle is introduced as a thief but she’s working for Daggett with the promise that she’ll be compensated with a software that will allow her to erase her criminal record which she wants to use to start a new life. She tells Bruce:

I started out doing what I had to. Once you’ve done what you’ve had to they’ll never let you do what you want to…There’s no fresh start in today’s world. Any twelve year old with a cell phone can find out what you did. 

In Batman: The Telltale Series Selina has an excellent dialogue with Bruce about her criminal career where she lays it all out. She says:

You’re a good man, Bruce. But good men don’t lie with thieves.I know what I am. No noble intentions, just the thrill of breaking what they say can’t be broken. Knowing there’s no safe I can’t crack, no fortress I can’t infiltrate. Proving I can… I’ve stolen from corrupt jerks like Hill, but I’ve taken plenty from good people too. And for what? Some shiny new toys and a crappy apartment on the edge of town? The high is nice but it wears off. And you look around and see…nothing. So you get back out there. Try and chase that feeling down, but it never amounts to anything really.

What has remained true about Selina in the comic books and other media is that she begins her life as a thief, but eventually she wants out but she feels defined by it. She feels like she has no other choice but to keep going. People really look down on Catwoman because she’s a criminal. She gets really dismissed as just some thief. This is something that Selina internalizes and is insecure about. Selina doesn’t always think that she’s a good person and that she can’t be anything other than a thief and a criminal. The idea that all Catwoman wants to do is live a dangerous life of chaos and crime is exactly the type of label she very often tries to break away from. 

The argument that Selina shouldn’t get married because she’ll feel trapped is ironic considering that there’s a lot canonical evidence that she actually feels trapped by The Life™ and it just reeks of concern trolling. Somehow people think that risking imprisonment and death and being defined as a criminal is a more preferable outcome than marriage. 

Catwoman is a character that’s always reinventing herself and always looking for a second chance. I don’t think that that always means marriage and family, but I don’t see why it can’t especially since it’s never been done in the main continuity before. 

I’m not going to bother addressing an argument that Bruce and Selina have a one sided relationship, because it’s obvious nonsense and I’ve dedicated many a blog posts already refuting that. I suggest going through my tags if you really want to know, but I will say this because I think it’s crucial: in spite of everything that people say and think about Catwoman and what she often thinks of herself Batman never stops believing in her. 

Batman has been a constant presence in her life and more often than not it’s his unwavering belief that deep down she’s a good person that inspires her to see the good in herself and get the second chance she so desperately seeks. Whether it’s inspiring her to become the whip wielding defender for Gotham’s most disenfranchised, running off to France, or starting a family. Batman and Catwoman have found a lot of happiness in each other so I find the idea that marriage would “ruin” Catwoman’s character to be, quite frankly, absurd.

Batman and Catwoman have been together for 77 years. It’s just time.

anonymous asked:

Scully lay motionless on the floor, her skin stained with blood.

This is also for the anon who requested a teaser.  This is what I wrote Tuesday, before deciding that a complete re-write of S6 better suited my purposes.  This scene is likely to change.

 Scully lies motionless on the floor, her skin stained with blood, and for the space of a heartbeat, Mulder stands frozen in the doorway of his apartment as the world falls away around him.  He steadies himself against the doorframe as lightheadedness overcomes him, the edges of his vision actually darkening… and then he’s flying across the room to her side.

She is white, so white, her already-pale skin nearly translucent, and the blood, God, there is so much blood, can she possibly be alive?  Her chest isn’t moving, and in the face of the enormity of it, the very idea of her loss, like this, after everything, now….

He suddenly remembers the way he’s acted today, the things he’s insinuated about her.  He’d never said that he was sorry for not trusting her, and it’s insane to be thinking about that now, to be lamenting that he’d never apologized for doubting her, as though his apology would make her any less-

No.  His mind refuses to even permit the word.  Not in relation to Scully.

All of this flashes through his mind in the breath of time between him arriving at her side, and his knees hitting the floor by her ribs.  Dimly, he feels the blood, her blood, soaking into the knees of his jeans, as he reaches out for her.

With a shudder and a gasp, her eyes open.

For a moment, she doesn’t seem to recognize him, and she jerks her arms back against his hold, her eyes full of panic and terror, but he keeps a firm grip on her until she sees that it’s only him.  She doesn’t calm, though; instead, she dissolves into the most violent sobs he’s ever heard from her, worse than when she’d been saved from Pfaster’s clutches, worse than when her mind had been tricked into thinking he had betrayed her, worse, even, than after Emily’s funeral, when she’d cried into his suit jacket outside of the church for nearly a half hour.

Mulder bends down as far as he can, even though the angle is excruciating for his back and knees, mindful of the fact that she could be gravely injured, and slides his arms carefully around her, helping her to sit up.  She clutches at him with a desperation that nearly breaks his heart.  Her hands scrabble at the back of his shirt, move higher, past his collar, and he suddenly feels a sharp sting as her nails dig into his neck and scalp, hard enough to draw blood.

He doesn’t care.

He thinks, dimly, of the defensive wounds murder victims leave on their killers, and it seems appropriate that she’s marking him in much the same way, because isn’t it his fault, as always, that she’s here?  He had torn off to the basement without a second thought, knowing full well that Padgett’s accomplice had still been at large, that the writer’s attention had been focused tightly on Scully, that she could be at risk.  He could have waited long enough for her to pull on her boots and follow him to the basement, but no, he had run on ahead, without a second thought for her.  Just like always.

Scully is, at last, beginning to calm in his arms, her uncontrolled sobs subsiding into sniffles and hiccups, but she’s trembling violently, shaking against his chest, and with most of the feeling having gone from his legs and his lower back screaming, Mulder can’t remain in this position any longer.  Without stopping to worry that Scully will be angry at his presumption, keeping one arm at her back, he slides the other under her knees and stands, cradling her carefully against his chest.  She keeps her arms locked behind his neck and doesn’t protest.  He briefly contemplates where to put her while he calls for an ambulance; the couch is closer, but she’ll be more comfortable on his bed.

She shivers violently in his arms, and he opts for comfort.

For once, Mulder is glad that he’s careless about the state of his bedroom, because the unmade bed makes things much easier, allowing him to set Scully down without first turning down the covers.  He sits her on the edge of the mattress and gives the comforter a sharp yank, pulling it around her shoulders, keeping her warm while he surveys the damage.  He looks, hesitantly, up at her face, and she meets his gaze.

“We need to see what he did to you,” he says, and after a moment’s hesitation, Scully nods.  She reaches for the buttons at the front of her blouse, and the comforter, freed from her grasp, begins to slide back down to the bed.  Mulder catches it and pulls it back up.  “Let me,” he says, and Scully nods, returning her hands to anchor the blanket around her shoulders.  Mulder carefully frees each button from its mooring, bracing himself for what he’ll find underneath the blood-soaked cloth… but the skin of her chest, under her ruined bra, is unbroken.

It’s far from unmarked, though.  A livid bruise, at least eight inches in diameter, has bloomed on the left side of her chest, directly over her heart.  Mulder sucks in his breath at the sight of it, and Scully glances down.

“I felt it happening,” she whispers.  “I felt my skin tearing, I could feel my ribs separating, my heart being squeezed.”  She shudders, tears threatening again, and pulls the blanket tighter.  “I’ve never felt pain like that, Mulder.  Never.  Not even during the worst of my cancer.”  She takes a deep breath, steadying herself.  “Why didn’t he finish the job?” she asks.  “Why am I still alive?  Where did Padgett go?”

“He’s in the basement,” Mulder says, and the thought of Padgett, standing in front of the incinerator with his manuscript, is enough to remind Mulder of what he still has to do.  Reluctantly, he stands.

“Where are you going?” Scully asks, trying valiantly to keep the panic from her voice.  Mulder can’t blame her; there had been no sign of Naciamento anywhere in the apartment, and it’s quite possible he’s still on the prowl.

“Padgett is still in the basement,” Mulder says.  “He as good as told me you were going to be the next victim, Scully.  I want him back in custody again before he has the chance to do any more harm.”  Bending down, he takes his backup weapon from his ankle holster and hands it to her, but she shakes her head.

“Mulder, I shot at Naciamento.  I emptied my magazine straight into his chest and it didn’t even slow him down.”  She pushes his gun back at him.  “That’s going to do you far more good in arresting Padgett than it will protecting me right now.”  She’s right, of course; Mulder had heard the gunshots.  Scully doesn’t miss shots at a hundred paces.  There’s no possible way she could have missed her target at point-blank range.  He bites his lip, weighing both courses of action: go after Padgett and leave Scully unprotected, or stay with her until the ambulance arrives, potentially letting a killer slip through his fingers?

He only has to look at Scully, really, to decide.

Mulder digs his cell phone out of his pocket and dials nine-one-one.  Scully groans when she hears him requesting an ambulance, but he continues on, undeterred.  He calls in for backup and to report an agent down, suspect still at large.  That done, he tucks his phone away and sits on the bed beside Scully.

“The paramedics are unnecessary, Mulder,” she says.  “I’m fine.”

“If that’s true, they’ll be able to tell us when they get here,” he replies.

“And what are we going to tell them?” Scully asks.  “That the ghost of a psychic surgeon attempted to remove my heart from my chest and was somehow interrupted?”

“We tell them that you’ve been attacked,” says Mulder simply.

“They’re probably going to want me to go to the hospital,” she protests.  “We could be there for hours, easily.  Possibly even overnight.”

“Scully,” says Mulder, his voice gentle, “you need to let them check you out.  You know you do.  Especially now.”  His gaze bores into her, and finally, with a sigh, she nods.  “And if they keep you overnight, I’ll stay with you, I promise.  You won’t be alone.  Not for a second.”

“They won’t let you,” Scully says.  “If I’m admitted, they’ll send you home, I’m sure.”

“Just let them try,” Mulder says fiercely.  He wraps his arms tightly around her, and together, they wait for the paramedics to arrive.

anonymous asked:

*Alright*, I love you. DjWifi

Did someone say Fox screaming???? What? Just me? ::grins evilly:: Enjoy ^_^

“Nino,” she whined, “please you HAVE to do this for me!”

“Oh, so now I have to,” he replied with an infuriating little smirk, “seeing as how I never approved of your akuma chasing in the first place I don’t think I have to do anything.”

“Come on, I need to be able to report on what happens!”

“Which I don’t see you having a big problem with, seeing as how you will be there miss I suddenly have super powers.”

“That’s not the same and you know it! I need actual footage. People are going to get suspicious if I just suddenly stop posting shots of the battles on my blog! I have already had complaints from some of my most dedicated viewers!”

Nino simply shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “So tell them you finally developed some common sense and decided that almost getting killed on a weekly basis was a terrible plan. You can say your boyfriend talked you into it.”

Alya glowered at him.“Ha ha very funny. Do you really think anyone will buy that anyways? Do you think Marinette is going to believe that I just suddenly stopped caring about the Ladyblog? That will be the end of my secret identity!”

“You could always just tell her. I mean you told me.”

“I also sleep with you, you bozo.”

“Bozo? Really?” he asked with an amused smile.

Alya bit back a scream of frustration. She really didn’t have time to be arguing this right now. She should already be transforming and heading out to meet her partners. Perhaps she needed to try a different tactic.

She lowered her chin and twisted her mouth into a pitiful pout, “Come on I need you to do this for me,” she said in the same voice that usually got him to rub her back or get up to fetch snacks in the middle of the movie. “Think how disappointed Adrien will be if there isn’t any new footage on the Ladyblog tomorrow. Could you really live with yourself knowing that you let down the two most important people in your life?”

Nino simply raised an eyebrow, clearly not impressed with her argument. They stared each other down for a few seconds before a devious gleam entered his eyes. “What do I get out of this arrangement?” he asked with a knowing smile.

“No,” Alya protested, already guessing where this conversation was heading.  

“Come on, if you expect me to run into the middle of a battle with a camera I want to hear you say it.”

“Absolutely not, you know what happens.”

“I have no clue what you could possibly mean,” he said with false innocence.  

“Nino,” she whined, tapping her foot anxiously. She really didn’t have time for this.  

“Give me one good reason why I should do this for you.”

“Because you want to have sex again ever?”

“Nope, try again.”

“Come on, please???”

“You know my price.”

“Ugh. Alright, I love you.” As soon as she said the words she let out a loud involuntary scream. She clasped her hand over her mouth, her face flushing with mortification. There were definitely drawbacks to acquiring magical fox powers.

Nino gave her a triumphant smile, his lips pursed together in amusement as he vainly attempted to stifle his laughter. He stood up and walked over, plucking the cell phone out of her pocket and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I love you too babe. See you at the fight.” And with that he hurried out the door to make his way to the most recent attack.

“You know, I really like him,” Trixx said popping up from Alya’s pocket and giving her a sly smile.

“Oh don’t you start.” 

Invisible, Chapter Five

Summary: Cursed as a child, you have lived your entire life invisible and alone. When deaths start happening in your town, the Winchesters come rolling in to investigate. What will happen when Dean is the first one who has been able to see you since you were a kid? Will Sam believe that you’re real? Will Dean believe you when you tell him you haven’t killed anyone? And why, after all of this time, is Dean Winchester the only one who can see you?

Invisible Masterlist - Previous Chapter

A/N: following the boys in this chapter. :)

word count: ~1500

Keep reading

Worse Than a Slap (Coda to 12x11 “Regarding Dean”)

During the spell, Dean managed to find time to send a message out. Only thing is he can’t remember what he said. Now Castiel is avoiding him, and he can’t figure out why that is? But when he does, he knows exactly what to do. (AO3)

            Castiel sits in the war room, surrounded by papers, maps, and books. They go unnoticed, untouched, as Cas stares at his phone. It rests in his hand, his grip on it tight. It-He is shaking. The pin board is just a few feet away, Kelly’s smiling face in the center staring at him, laughing at him-

           “Cas, we’re home!”

           Castiel looks up, whipping his phone away, hiding it in his pocket. He stands, just as Sam walks into the room, a bag of take out in hand.

           “Sam,” he attempts a smile, “good to see you. Is Dean-“

           “Right, here, Cas,” Dean walks in, a grin plastered on his face. He’s already got a drink in hand, and takes a sip out of it.

           “Dean,” Castiel smiles, “You remember me?”

           Sam and Dean share a glance at Castiel’s reaction. Dean walks forward; just enough to see Castiel’s blue eyes were starting to get glassy.

           “Of course,” he starts, “Why wouldn’t I?”

           “The memory spell,” Castiel says, tilting his head, “the one you told me about?”

           “I did?”

           “You don’t… remember?” Cas closes the gap, frowning, “is it… do you-”

           “No, no,” Sam answers, walking towards them, “we handled it. Dean’s better.”

           “I have no memory of anything that happened while under the spell,” Dean shrugs, “but thankfully, that’s the only thing I can’t remember.”


           Dean and Sam exchange another glance as Castiel steps back, hands reaching into his pocket.

           “Did I,” Dean asks, “Did I say anything el-“

           “No,” Cas cuts him off, blushing, “you called to assuage me of any worry. Although telling me about it did nothing to help.”

           “Sorry Cas,” Dean chuckles, laying his hand on Castiel’s shoulder, “wasn’t in my right mind.”

           “That’s right,” Cas says, shaking his head, “you weren’t.” He doesn’t look at Dean. Dean swallows hard, and turns to look at Sam. Sam shrugs.

           He walks towards the table, putting the bag down. “We were just about to have dinner, Cas,” Sam says, “would you like any-“

           “No,” Castiel says, stepping away from Dean, “I think I’ll just go lie down. I’m… tired.”

           “Really? I thought you couldn’t get-“

           He walks away before Dean can finish. All Dean can do is watch him go.


           “What?” Dean says, gruff.

           “You sure you can’t remember anything from the curse?” Sam asks, pulling out the food, “Like, at all?”

           “It’s just one, big black spot Sammy,” Dean sighs, moving closer. He waves his hand by his head, “’S’all gone!”

           “Well, you better hope it comes back,” Sam says, “because something tells me your little chat with Cas wasn’t just that.”

           “You and me both,” Dean mutters, taking one of the containers and popping it open. He takes a bite of the rice, and looks back at where Castiel walked out.


            Sam is sitting at a table in the library, looking over the spell book Dean and he had acquired. He’s been making notes on them, their translations, trying to glean any useful spells he and Dean might need in the future. That is, until he hears the sounds of footsteps. He looks up to see Castiel standing in the entryway, wringing his hands together, and looking everywhere but at him.

           “Something on your mind, Cas?” Sam puts the book down.

           “May I,” Castiel starts, “May I speak with you?”

           “Of course,” Sam smiles, “you know that.”

           Castiel nods, still not meeting Sam’s eyes. He shuffles forward and takes a seat across from Sam. He drums his fingers on the wood. Castiel takes his time talking, so Sam does the first step for him.

           “Does this have anything with how you’ve been avoiding Dean,” Sam says, startling Castiel into looking him.

           “You noticed?”

           Sam rolls his eyes. “You haven’t been exactly subtle,” Sam leans back, “maybe don’t run out the second he enters a room.”

           Castiel blushes, remembering what Sam is talking about. A few days ago, Castiel had been in the kitchen looking for something, anything to do. His head was in the kitchen and the general humming distracted him from listening. That’s why he didn’t hear Dean until he was right behind him.

           And how Dean scared him enough to hit his head on one of the shelves.

           He bolted the second he could, refusing to look back at Dean. If he did… he wouldn’t have left.

           “It may,” Castiel answers Sam’s first question, leaning back as well.

           “What is it?”

           “Dean, when under the spell,” Castiel says slowly, choosing his words carefully, “How… how was he?”

           “How was he?” Sam parrots, eyebrows raised.


           “Well, he was fine… for a bit,” Sam tells him, “it was kind of funny, too. He got slapped… forgot the names of things… even forgot which key was Baby’s. But then, then he couldn’t remember his name or-or my name. He forgot more and more with each passing minute it… it scared me. And through it all he was just-happy.”


           “He couldn’t remember his life,” Sam says, “the life of a hunter. Anyone would be happy to not have this life.”

           “Does he,” Castiel swallows, “Does he wish he still doesn’t remember all that we-all that he did?”

           Sam raises a brow at Castiel’s misstep, but answers him anyway. “No,” he says, “he doesn’t. Sure, being able to live a life without being a hunter is rare, but it wouldn’t be Dean. It must have felt nice, for a bit, too escape, but Dean knows this is what he wants in his life.”


           Sam can see Castiel thinking, and then watches as he pulls his cell phone out from his coat pocket. He plays with it, fiddling with it while looking up at Sam every few seconds. Sam waits, not wanting to scare him off.

           “Hey Sam I was-Cas?”


           Castiel stands, pushing the seat back. He stares at Dean, eyes wide and mouth open. Dean mirrors him for a few seconds, then comes back to himself.


           He turns and walks out, leaving Dean standing there, his hand outstretched. Dean frowns, lowering his hand. He looks to Sam, only for Sam to roll his eyes at him and shrug. Dean slumps, and walks over to take Castiel’s seat across from Sam.

           “Do you have any idea what I did?”

           “I might have,” Sam snorts, “before you spooked him.”

           Dean throws his arms out, “Really?”

           “It must have been something big, Dean,” Sam says, “I bet you wish you were back dealing with slap-girl.”

           “I wish all Cas did was slap me,” Dean says, looking down, “at least it’d hurt less.”

           Sam’s about to ask what he means when Dean pushes back his seat, eyes locked on something.

           “What is it?”

           “Cas’s phone,” Dean answers, holding up the small, black object, “he must’ve dropped it when I… yeah.”

           “His phone?” Sam’s eyes widen, “you know what this means?”

           “We can text Claire and play a prank on her?” Dean huffs, “I don’t know, Sam!”

           “We can see what you said to Cas, idiot,” Sam tells him.

           “Oh… right,” Dean smiles, then frowns, “Wait… how are we even gonna do that?”

           “Leave that to me.”

           Sam holds his hand up, and Dean drops the phone in his hand. Dean gets up and moves to Sam’s side, hovering over him.

           “How’d you even get in?”

           “I knew the passcode.”

           “What was it?”


           “Zero…nine…” Dean’s face scrunches up in confusion, “Wait, isn’t that the day we-“

           “Here it is!” Sam says, “but… it’s not a call.”

           “What is it?” Dean leans in closer.

           “It’s a… voicemail.”

           The brothers look at each other. Sam asks Dean if he should press the button, seeing as how it’ll be Dean’s voice they’ll hear. Dean nods, because he’s just as curious as Sam. Sam presses play.

           “Hey Cas! It’s Dean… I know, it’s Sam’s phone but-uh, he told you I broke mine right? I’m sure he had, too-look, that isn’t important. I just wanted to tell you, before I… before… I-uh, no, no keep it together, Winchester. I… sound crazy, don’t I. I also don’t have another shot of recording this message given… well, I won’t draw out the suspense Cas, I’ve been hit by a curse. Some witch got me and… I’m forgetting. Everything. It’s hitting me in bursts like, one moment I’ll have forgotten how to use a pen and the next I don’t… don’t know my own family. And, well-I just wanted to tell you something before I forget. Something I thought I’d get to tell you in person, maybe after a bit too much to drink and I’m a little less afraid. I don’t know if Sammy and me’ll be able to get out of this one. I don’t even know if I’ll know what I’m in in the next hour. But… I want you to know, even if I forget, that… that I love ya, Cas. Not as a brother and not like a friend but, like, the real deal, Cas. I feel it in here-in my heart-whenever I look into your eyes. And the sad thing is I’m even starting to forget what color they are which-which is crazy because they’re my favorite color and-look, I just I wanted you to know because after everything we’ve been through, you deserve to hear these words before either one of us bites it for the last time. I just… didn’t think it’d be now. …What do you mean I’m almost out of time? Who are you to tell me-“

           The message cuts out after that. Sam takes a quick glance at Dean from the corner of his eye. His brother is frozen, staring at the device slackjawed. There’s a tear near his eye threatening to fall, and Sam can feel Dean’s body shaking.


           He turns, heading in the same direction Castiel went, running after the angel. Sam watches him go.


           Castiel is in his room, lying on his bed. He holds onto the pillow, resting his chin on it as he stares at his blank television screen. He’s just about to turn it on when he hears a banging on his door.

           “Cas!” Dean calls from the other side, “Cas, open up!”

           Castiel does nothing but watch the door with wide eyes. He doesn’t even move, careful not to make a sound and alert the elder Winchester to his presence.

           It doesn’t matter.

           Dean kicks down the door after a few minutes. He walks in, staring at Castiel with something burning in his eyes.

           “Dean!” Castiel yells, shocked, “You kicked down my door! What are you-“

           “Why didn’t you tell me?”

           Castiel’s eyes widen a fraction before they return to normal size. Castiel looks away, fingers playing with the pillow.

           “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

           “Seriously, Cas?” Dean asks, adrenaline making its way out of his system. He collapses onto the bed, a hand resting on Castiel’s ankle. He rubs his thumb across it. Castiel watches him carefully. They sit like that for a few minutes. Castiel dare not run, because he knew Dean would quickly hold him down.

           “I heard what I said.”


           “Dropped your phone,” Dean chuckles, “by the way, September 18th?”

           “It… means a lot to me.”

           “It means a lot to me, too.”

           “Dean, where are you going with this?”

           “I meant it, y’know.”

           Castiel raises his brows at Dean’s confession. Dean isn’t looking at him, but the flush is fairly visible crawling up Dean’s neck.

           “I thought you said you couldn’t remember?”

           “I did,” Dean says, “but, hearing myself I… it all just came back to me, and… you want to know what I was thinking, when I called you?”

           “I’m surprised you know what you were thinking back then.”

           “I was a little miffed, when I got your voicemail,” Dean chuckles, “but then I started to forget what I was trying to do so I… I focused on your voice. It brought me back. And then, when I was talking, I tried remembering all the little things about you that I… your trench coat, your jokes, how you always look out for me, even when I want to throw you against a wall because of how you do it… your eyes.”

           “I thought you couldn’t remember the color of my eyes?”

           “For a second,” Dean tells him, “but I looked up at the sky, and I remembered.” Dean turns to him, “Cas, don’t think for a second that this spell made me say something I didn’t really feel. When I was trying to hold on to the most important things, when my head was fogging up worse than San Francisco, my love for you was one of the things I kept a tight grip on. I just wish I didn’t end up losing it, s’all, even for a night…”

           “Fuck you, Dean Winchester.”

           Dean looks up at Castiel to see tears in the angels eyes.

           “Fuck you for calling me,” he continues, “for giving me everything I ever wanted and then ripping it out of my hands.”


           Castiel pushes the pillow away, and moves closer. “The next time you have something to tell me, something important,” he growls, grabbing Dean by the shirt, “don’t wait for the next time your life is in danger.”

           Then he kisses Dean. Dean is surprised, but soon enough melts into the kiss, raising his hands and threading them in Castiel’s hair.

           Castiel turns them around, pushing Dean on his back and straddling him.

           “By the way,” he says, pulling away to give Dean some air, “I love you, too.”


           “Dean? Dean?”

           Sam is walking down the hallway, Castiel’s phone in hand, trying to find Dean.

           “Look, Dean, I know you didn’t want me to hear what I did,” he says, walking closer to Castiel’s door, “but know I still love you, and don’t think any less of you.”

           “Okay, good, do you mind shutting up?”

           Sam startles, turning to Castiel’s open door–and instantly regretting it, turning back with a heavy blush on his face.

           “Dude, seriously?” Sam yells, “you could have closed the door.”

           “Sorry,” Dean giggles, body pressed up against Castiel’s under the covers, “guess I forgot.”